"May your trails be crooked, winding, lonesome, dangerous, leading to the most amazing view. May your mountains rise into and above the clouds." Edward Abbey

Upon arriving at home tonight after work, Sam had a lot to tell me, mostly about his support group since that is where he spent a couple hours today. This support group meets at Providence Cancer Center and is composed of people who are all stage IV cancer patients.  It is so interesting the different outlooks each individual has toward his or her illness and the related diagnosis.  They range from complete denial to "OMG, I am going to die tomorrow!"  The common denominator is the fear factor with each of them and that is what had Sam perplexed when I got home.  Sam does his best to encourage each participant to not be afraid, to face his or her fears and to act on them.  He sets a wonderful example for each of them and for all us in working each day to make the best of an extremely difficult situation.  Tonight, though, he was asking questions of me such as, "What really am I here for?"  I have learned not to become upset at these questions, just to listen because I know that the only reason he is headed down this path (and usually it is only for a few minutes or so) is because of some discussion at the support group.  During our conversation, Sam mentioned that he was now the only person left from when this group started two years ago.  AHA!  My light bulb moment.  He normally tells me when someone is no longer with the group, but he has not said anything about anyone no longer being there since the first of the year.  Now I understand why he has been dragging his feet about attending the support group the past couple weeks. I do not blame him one bit; however, this is a fear he needed to face and today he faced it head on.  Sam is needed at that support group because he is a mentor to anyone who comes through the door because of his courage and because he represents hope. Hope for the future to reach that amazing view is why Sam is here and somehow I will find a way to relay that message to him.

The mighty Yukon River at Eagle, Alaska.

We are starting to make plans for camping, hiking, fishing and whatever we can do in the 2-3 hours where Sam has energy this summer. More than likely he will be doing a lot of sitting and watching me while I do the fishing but you can bet he will be freely offering unsolicited advice.  Oh boy.  Since he is the fish whisperer, though, there is plenty I can learn from him on that subject.  But when it comes to setting up the camp...I will have to find something else for him to give 100% of his attention to while I do that.  Maybe that will be the time to encourage a nap!

Life is great right now and for that I am quite thankful.  Work is extremely busy and is gearing up to get even busier.  Even better is the fact that my job requires me to spend time outdoors.  What could be better than that during summer in Alaska?

Ciao!

Love the one you're with. Stephen Stills

Tonight in Anchorage emotions are all over the place.  A nasty mayoral election is on tap for tomorrow (we voted early!), the legislature is attempting to make some tough choices in the next couple weeks before session ends and the entire state is up in arms about the oil & gas tax issue, there are several issues on tomorrow's ballot which are potential life changers for many people, but the biggest issue tonight on everyone's mind is that Samantha Koenig, an 18 year old barrista who was kidnapped February 1, was found.  We have all held out hope she would be found alive, but it appears she died shortly after she was kidnapped from her job.  I can only imagine the nightmare her family has experienced since that night.  My heart breaks for all of them, especially her father.  I pray he is able to find some peace and comfort now that Samantha has been found.

As for us, Sam and I each enjoyed a good day.  Sam found lots to do at the animal shelter and then watched Kentucky beat Kansas.  He is one happy camper right now.  Tomorrow is his support group and he is considering staying for the oncology rehab (physical therapy).

My most important task tomorrow is to make sure our Nenana tickets get to Carrs and put in the right box (as I was just informed, anyway!)

Ciao!

Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn’t do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover. – Mark Twain

Sam and I went for a leisurely Sunday drive today - only 230 miles roundtrip - to Eureka, Alaska.  Normally, the wind at Eureka is, well, let's just say if Eureka were a city, it definitely would be the "Windy City" rather than Chicago.  Since it is a lonely roadhouse with a few cabins, it is a great stop along the way to Glenallen.  We decided to drive there for lunch and it was beautiful.  The Matanuska River is starting to come alive, fresh snow is on the glacier, and the best part, no wind!  The snowmachiners (snowmobilers for you Outside) had a poker run at Lake Louise today, so we shared the roadhouse with many of them.

At the Matanuska Glacier overlook today on the drive to Eureka.

Yesterday I managed to talk Sam into going to the gym with me.  He did not exercise much this week and he needed to get his body moving and get the blood circulating.  Today as we were driving, he finally told me he is experiencing a new pain in the middle to lower part of his left lung which is why he did not do much this week. Of course, with my family history, my first thought is the heart...and then...what in the heck is he doing telling me this when we are already 40 miles out of town?!?!  I then remind myself it is difficult for him to tell me about new issues, so driving down the road when he does not have to look me in the face is much easier. This new pain, Sam believes, is from a new tumor his GP talked about a year ago. Whether or not it is, we will not know until the next CT scan which is not scheduled for a couple months yet.  No matter what, new pains and new tumors are a part of the process.  We hope and pray the Tarceva has slowed the process down, something we will never truly know since non-small cell lung cancer - adenocarcinoma of the lung, is generally thought to be slow growing anyway.

Sweet Pea giving me the evil eye stare down.

I know he is in pain when he is very quiet and that is how the entire conversation got started.  Sam did not hardly say a word for the first half hour and I finally commented about the silence. The challenge for him is determining how painful it truly is because he is already on pain meds, so asking him to rank it on a scale of 1-10 is simply unreasonable on my part.  Instead, I secretly maintained a silent vigil watching him out of the corner of my eye and listening to him breath to determine for myself how painful it truly is.  He seemed a bit uncomfortable, so without the pain pills, it is probably a 6 or 7.  With the pills, it is probably a 1 or 2.  When Sam swam for the UofO, he learned a relaxation technique which he still uses today.  It has proven to be a life saver for him and he used it today.  That really makes a difference as well and makes the pain and other issues much easier to tolerate. Rather than fight the pain, he acknowledges it and controls it rather than vice versa.  He is amazing.

Of course, upon returning home, Sweet Pea met us at the door and immediately began giving us a piece of her mind that we left her alone with Rocky.  She gets very anxious when we are both gone for more than a few hours and is quite relieved when we return since she is the true caregiver in the family, don't you know?  I am fairly certain she is much more worried about Sam being gone than me because she hardly notices me when I come home from work.  Unless it is time to eat, of course, then I am the chosen one.  I count on her to tell me when Sam is truly not feeling good and she does a fine job of that.

We had a good weekend altogether and are looking forward to a good week as well.  The snow is melting rapidly and, although it is probably wishful thinking, I hope we have seen the last of it.

Ciao!

You cannot win if you do not play. Unknown

Yes, I totally made that up because I have no idea who came up with that saying first.  Tonight I think the lottery is a great subject to talk about for a bit.  From what I just read online, the mega millions is up to something like $640 million.  Even if I am a few dollars off, it does not matter because no matter how you look at it, that is a boat load of money.  Now, seriously, what will a person do with all that money? If I win (and do not worry, I cannot since Alaska does not have the lottery as I pointed out in a prior post) I will give it to people who are terminally ill.  Not, for instance, to the American Cancer Society, because most of that money goes to research and finding a cure. I will give it directly to the families because the cost of surviving is almost insurmountable and sends many, many people into bankruptcy, foreclosure and other dire situations.  Very few organizations provide financial assistance for day to day living expenses for families with high medical bills. For many caregivers, this is an added stress on top of worrying about the patient and maintaining a household, regardless of whether or not it is 2 people or 10 people. Sometimes it really angers me so much money is being given to finding a cure when nothing is given to those who are just trying to survive until a cure is found.  Yes, it is a catch-22 in a way, but lowering the stress level of the caregiver in turn lowers the stress level of the patient which in turn does keep the patient alive longer.  So, if you happen to be the lucky one, I will not try to make you feel guilty, but I do hope you will think twice about what you chose to do with your winnings.  Oh, and I will offer you congratulations and a "way to go!"

Now you know another one of my many soapboxes.  Lucky you!

Our first day in Alaska, May 2008.  We were so excited!

Sam is in a great mood tonight.  That is always a good thing to come home to.  I am ever so lucky, too, because I married a man who likes to cook. On the days he is feeling good, dinner is always ready when I get home. It is awesome.  Tonight he grilled halibut and made his own honey mustard sauce.  Yes!  Plus, we are working hard to empty the freezer because fishing season is just around the corner.  The cats like this time of year, too, because they get the leftovers.  Sweet Pea, though, is a princess and she only eats salmon.  She knows how to give a dirty look, too, when she realizes it is a halibut kind of night.  HA.

We have no plans for the weekend except to workout.  I am now down to 6 weeks and counting.  Starting to get a little bit nervous.  120 miles.  What am I thinking?  Plus, two friends are riding on the Glass Half Full team with me and I am certain they are already in better shape than I am!  

In case you are wondering, at 9pm it was still light out and 43 degrees.

Ciao!

”That which doesn’t kill us makes us stronger.” - Friedrich Nietzsche

Do you know how many times people have repeated Mr. Nietzsche's quote to me?  The first time I heard it,  I reacted with a "hmmm...yeah...very true..." but each time after that, all I wanted to do was pretty much just reach out and slap the person up the side of the head!  However, it is a very true statement and I remind myself of it day in and day out. I just do not need or want to hear someone else repeat it to me again.  Ever.  Anyway, as a caregiver, you find yourself juggling many hats and you just do not know how you are going to continue on like you are.  Those are the times, for me anyway, when I realize I need to take a step back and do something just for me.  It does not matter what it is or how long it lasts, only that it is just for me, whether it be a quick walk, a Chai tea, workout, nap, Dairy Queen blizzard, or whatever, it is all about me.  Just a few minutes of "me" time and I feel revitalized and able to continue on with whatever it was that needed my attention immediately.  In addition, drinking lots of water and staying well hydrated makes a significant difference in my attitude and in my stress level.  Pretty darn amazing the little things one can learn about one's self. Plus..."that which doesn't kill us..." you get my drift, I am sure.

Dan Audick and Sam messing around on the dock at Big Lake.

That was a lot of rambling and after re-reading it, I am not certain I got my point across, so I hope you can figure out what I was trying to say!

Sam spent a few hours at the kennel today.  Two puppies were there along with six full grown dogs.  The favorite today was a Doberman Pinscher.  Sam was told he was a bit shy so he might have a problem getting him out to walk.  Apparently, the Doby was bouncing all over the place and could not get out the door fast enough.  He did not seem so shy to Sam, obviously.  Sam and the Doby both got some much needed exercise, needless to say.

Last night we talked a bit more about Sam's legs.  He believes that his legs are once again losing strength like they did last summer.  Since he has already been through it once, he understands what is happening when he experiences certain sensations, or even the lack thereof.  In his words, it will really be a big deal if he is able to rebuild the strength in his legs on his own, especially since the doctors have told him no more radiation.  I hope he is able to rebuild the strength and maintain it.  The catch is, currently his leg strength is probably only at 85% after losing complete feeling in his left leg last summer from a tumor pressing up against his spine in the lower back.  Radiation was able to shrink the tumor and Sam was therefore able to regain most, but not all, of his strength through physical therapy.  Now that I am putting this into words, I am wondering if this is not something we will continue to go through, kind of like the old style of football the Bears and Packers used to play - working the ball back and forth until finally someone is close enough to the goal to actually score.  I digress.  Anyway, what this does do is remind both of us that his bone structure is extremely fragile and his back even more so.  He has been told more than once that any wrong move and he could be paralyzed from the nerves in his back being cut off by the cancer in his spine.  Even with that knowledge, though, Sam still does his best to live life to the fullest.

Spring is on the way here in Anchorage, slowly but surely.  I was thrilled yesterday to be able to drive all the home without going into 4-wheel drive.  However, just trying to get out of our garage this morning required the 4-wheel drive.  At least now it is down to just the trip to work rather than both.  Progress.

The baseball season is upon us.  Opening day is right around the corner.  Wonder how my Rockies and Sam's Giants are going to do this year?

Ciao!

It’s not the size of the dog in the fight, it’s the size of the fight in the dog. ~ Mark Twain

People often ask me if I have a good support system.  Personally, I feel I have one of the best.  My friends here in Alaska, my friends and family out of state, and I am also involved with an online support group through CancerCare.org.  The support group I am with is specifically for caregivers of those who have lung cancer, so I  am involved with a group of people who thoroughly understand my world as I know it now.  We have become quite close, so when anything happens to one of us, we all are affected because at some point or another, we know each of us will also experience the same thing.  We share many tears of joy, frustration, fears, and many blessings in disguise.  As I have been with the group for 2 1/2 years, I am considered one of the "veterans," in fact, there currently is only one other caregiver who has been with the group longer than I have. That fact kind of scares me, but it also gives me hope because it means that Sam is still here with me and doing quite well compared to many others in his position.  I was reminded of that over the weekend as one of our members experienced a very deep loss and she has not been with us long which means it was also very quick after the diagnosis.  My heart breaks for her and her family.  Through her loss, though, the rest of us are able to learn from her experience, and hopefully by the time it is our turn, we will be much better prepared for our own situations. That is my definition of blessings in disguise because the more comfortable and aware we become of what we are facing, the greater the amount of dignity and respect will accompany that difficult time.  Hopefully it is a lesson learned for all of us.

Sam seems to have had a good day, although he did not venture out.  The snow is melting and therefore we have ponds of water, which as one journalist noted, compare well with the canals of Venice right now.  One of Sam's concerns is being wet, so to avoid getting splashed and therefore, drenched to the bone, he stays in.  I am grateful for that because besides looking like a drowned rat, he also runs the risk of quickly developing pneumonia, so we like to keep him as dry as possible.  Who would have a thought a former Oregon Duck swimmer would be doing his best to stay dry?  I certainly would not have!

First of many sockeye on the Kvichak last summer.  We stayed at Blueberry Island Lodge.
 One of our best fishing vacations yet.  Can't wait to see what this summer brings!

And now, we are looking forward to another terrific summer and the many mini-vacations we are hoping to take.  Fishing regulations for the Northern Cook Inlet Region came out yesterday and they cover our favorite spot at the Little Su.  It looks like things are going to be a bit different this summer, so we will have to plan accordingly.  Just makes for a bit more excitement.  Fred the king salmon is still out there waiting for me and I will definitely be seeking him out.  He has avoided me for 4 summers now, it is time for me to find him!  I am hoping some of Sam the Fish Whisperer has rubbed off on me because I could certainly use some of his secrets.

As the land manager for the Alaska Native corporation I work for, I also will be visiting a lot of our lands over the next 6 or so months.  Hopefully Sam will be able to travel with me on many of those trips as well.  That is one aspect of my job I absolutely love and am really looking forward to heading out and seeing our lands through the eyes of the shareholders, the Elders and the descendants.  Summer cannot come fast enough!

Ciao!

Laughter rises out of tragedy, when you need it the most, and rewards you for your courage. -Erma Bombeck

Mt. Augustine at sunset.

Home after a long weekend away.  Sam and I had a great time in Homer, and the weather could not have been better.  Well, maybe a few degrees would have been good, but nonetheless, we had a terrific time.  There is not one place we have been to in Alaska which we have not liked, and Homer is definitely one of our "more" favorites.  The scenery is simply amazing.
The state of Alaska has three different programs in which you can purchase land from the state.  Currently, two of those programs are in process.  The first is the land sales auction in which specific areas of land are put up for sale and you can bid on those properties.  As in regular auctions, the sale goes to the highest bidder.  In the second program, the state lists various parcels of land which have not yet been surveyed.  Residents can then stake land within those parcels for a recreational use cabin.  The resident will then lease the land for a period of time and then purchase at the fair market value once the survey and appraisal have been completed.  Since the day we decided to move to Alaska, Sam has wanted to participate in one of these programs and build that cabin every guy dreams of in some remote spot off the grid.  Up until Sam's diagnosis, I was fairly supportive of this (although...I did have my qualms about a few things, such as walking in 11 miles to some remote spot that may or may not have any dry land to speak of...) Anyway, Sam is back to having a strong desire to do this.  Hence our discussion, especially since some of these lands are in the Homer, southern Kenai Peninsula area.  We discussed it indepth several times throughout the weekend and Sam was never able to get me to agree to it for several reasons, and they all relate to his health.  For example, if we purchase or bid or stake out the land right now, it will take at least one summer, if not two, to clear the land for at least some type of foundation.  Sam's physical health does not allow him to put forth as much strength as he used to.  I would not be able to help because I would be working, meaning either he is out there alone (!!!) or some buddy of his is out there with him (!!!!!!!)  It would involve digging post holes many feet down, pouring concrete into the post holes or pad, and all this after he, or they, have cleared away all the trees, brush, whathaveyou.  By the time this is completed, a few years from now, Sam's health is probably going to have deteriorated much more, or he might not even be here.  Which, if you know where I am headed, means I now have another piece of property I am probably never going to go to (we already have one in New Mexico) yet I will not want to give it up because it is part of Sam's dream.  We had a few miles of total silence in the truck since we were having the final discussion as we were headed home.  Me trying to figure out how to compromise and Sam trying to work through all his emotions.  Finally, he broke the silence by telling me he understood where I was coming from and what I was saying.  It was very difficult for both of us at that point, needless to say.  Plus, I do not want to discourage him from pursuing a goal.  However, this is one goal which for right now, just does not make sense in any manner whatsoever. I felt very sad at that point, and still do, and hope we can figure out a way to have that cabin or yurt or whatever out in the middle of nowhere while Sam is still around to enjoy it. Only thing is, we are going to have to win the lottery soon in order to make it happen.

I am very grateful he wants to get out and do things.

Sam's health seems to be doing pretty good right now, although he did admit to me over the weekend that for some reason his hips/pelvic area seem to constantly be cold. We wondered if it was nerve related or circulation related so we walked a lot trying to get his body going again. He has not said one way or the other about how he is feeling now, although he has on several layers of clothes, so I am thinking he is still cold.  In addition, the rash from the Tarceva is all over his chest and back.  It is probably the worst I have ever seen it.  We are grateful for the rash, as it means the Tarceva is working, however, it certainly is uncomfortable for Sam.  He tries not to scratch it, but I catch him doing it all the time.

As for me, I spent the day at the FERC scoping meeting for the Susitna-Watana Hydropower Project (another word for "dam").  It was a project started and stopped in the 80s and now the current governor has renewed it. Part of my job is staying informed on projects like this, especially since the land the dam and reservoir will be on belong mostly to my company and its village corporations.

All in all, things are going well!

Ciao.