Gerry Update

IN THE BEGINNING.......

2009-04-05T17:07:00.000-07:00

It began with a light pinch, as light as one would hold a butterfly by its delicate wing. It ended with a grasp so strong that it took some of the strongest pain-killing drugs known to humankind, to stop it.

In November, 2007, Gerry noted that he had a tiny ache right below his breastbone. When it persisted for a week, he went to his doctor to inquire about it. Did he need his heartburn medication increased? Yes, that would be worth a try. He had once had the stomach bacteria h. pylori. Would that cause this? Hummm...could be. He was sent for blood work. He was more tired than usual but had just finished working 14 hour days and was fatigued.
A few more weeks passed with no change in the pinch in his chest. He seemed to becoming more wan so when he returned to the doctor, his blood work revealed a drop in his hemoglobin level. A stool sample test divulged that there was blood in all six samples. Since there had been colon cancer in his family, this is a test to which Gerry faithfully submitted, every year. His family doctor and the surgeon to whom he was referred, both mentioned a bleeding ulcer as the possible cause of the blood loss. Stomach problems were nothing new to Gerry. He always suffered from severe heartburn and had been taking some type of heartburn medication for the thirty-two years I had known him.
We made the first of many trips to the hospital on February 8, 2008. Gerry was scheduled to have a gastroscope to see the extent of the ulcer. The endoscopy room was full of patients, in various states of consciousness, laid out or sitting up sipping on juice through straws. The attending nurse gave her memorized instructions to Gerry and told me to return in an hour. They wheeled the gurney on which Gerry laid, into that sterile place where anything can happen.
I think I got a coffee, went to Walmart and gassed up. I arrived back to the endoscopy unit in forty-five minutes to see Gerry's work-socked feet sticking out from under the bottom of the flannelette sheet. The room was now empty except for him and me. I bounced in and said, "Hi Sweetie. Were you talking to the doctor yet?" Our eyes met; his glazed, mine hopeful.
Gerry whispered, "It's cancer."
I waited for him to jump up and say, "KIDDING!!" but he didn't. He just laid there. We just stared at each other in shock. Our lives had changed in one second with a six letter word, C-A-N-C-E-R.
I now had a pain in MY stomach; a pain that did not signal physical pain like Gerry's but a pain that clenched my soul and would not let go for a long, long time.

Arms

2009-03-26T07:30:00.000-07:00

This photo was taken of Gerry many years ago. He had just stripped a roof in Kensington. Look at the eyes.
______________________________

Gerry was always proud of the muscles in his arms. Those muscles were made of wood, gyproc and bricks. They were molded by hammering, sawing and holding. They were formed with diligence, determination and obstinance.
After Gerry's first hospitalization in February, 2008, I noticed his hands were becoming whiter and his arms were losing their muscularity. He noticed too. I said that would come back when he started working again. I said this as his watch became looser on his wrist.
As Gerry recovered from his surgery, chemotherapy and radiation, he did regain some of his muscles back. In fact, last summer, he was seen on our steep barn roof screwing tin on it. When I questioned his decision to take on such a risky task after what he had been through, his response was, "Who else is going to do it? It has to be done or the barn will rot out." His arms were getting stronger and he still could easily squeeze my hand until I "would give"! The timepiece on his arm tightened up.
As Gerry became ill again, and his days consisted of staying in bed until 11:00 AM and going back to bed at 9:00 PM and resting in between, the arms once again became feeble as they rested on the blankets. I would look at them and reflect on how he once could drive a 2 1/2 inch common nail with three hits of the hammer, how he could toss a bundle of shingles over his shoulder and climb a ladder to a rooftop like a cat and how he could fire a bale of hay into the door to the loft from the wagon down below.
The watch now rests on my dresser. I look at it. I think of the arms; those arms that were so strong that I never had to fear anyone or anything because they could move a mountain.

I am sick

2009-03-23T17:16:00.000-07:00

I am sick.
I am wheezy.
I can't breathe very well.
I am tired.
I have no energy.
I have walking pneumonia.
I will get better.
Not like Gerry.

Gerry, CAN YOU HEAR ME?

2009-03-19T04:16:00.000-07:00

This is a photo of the display at the funeral home. Thank-you to all who were able to attend the visiting hours, the funeral, come to the house, bring food, send cards, give donations, etc. I have been overwhelmed with your generosity.

Where is Gerry? I miss him. It has been a week now and that is long enough.

"Where are you, GERRY? Are you hiding? Your boots are still here and I have your wallet. The truck is in the yard and I have to ask people to help when I want to move heavy objects. Do you think I should get new carpet in Clayton and Jenna's apartment? And, oh yes, Jen and Wayne, have run into some problems with the renovations and we need your opinion. Your "Little Buddy" is growing a lot and talking more every day. You should hear him! When are you coming back? I have to much to tell you!"

Comforting Words

2009-03-11T19:46:00.000-07:00

Last Saturday, Gerry experienced very few moments of lucidity but one of those moments will stand out prominently in my mind forever.
He had been taken by ambulance to the hospital. I was out of the room fetching something while Sister Darlene guarded Gerry. When I returned the nurse was giving Gerry an injection. Of course, I was curious as to what drug was being infused into my husband's body. When Darl said the word "morphine" my mind numbed. MORPHINE. Gerry was really sick. Gerry was in a lot of pain.
After the nurse left the room, I sat on a chair beside Gerry's sleeping body and held his hand. I started to cry and put my head on the bed rail. I quietly sobbed for the ten thousandth time in thirteen months. His clouded eyes sprung open. He held up the blanket and mumbled, "Slide in." I lowered the rail and laid beside Gerry back to front. He put the blanket over me and enfolded me in his once-muscular arms and comforted me by whispering, "We'll get through it."
Four days later, I once again laid beside him. This time, I was telling him I loved him as he gasped for his last breath. Gerry passed away this morning.

The WIngs of Angels

2009-03-10T07:21:00.000-07:00

The angels' wings are seeking to enfold Gerry into their soothing clutches, but he resists. They are fluttering around, waiting, but he shuns them with regular deep breaths, blowing them away. Sometimes he taunts. He holds his breath. They swoop, wings outstretched but another strong breath is expelled and they are blown out of bounds. When the time is right, they will capture him, lifting him heavenward and into their world.

Jen and I are ready to let him go. We have seen him suffer enough.

Rites

2009-03-08T10:04:00.000-07:00

As the ambulance backed into the driveway yesterday, I knew that once Gerry was carried out, he would not be coming back, in body anyway.
When he woke up, he was short of breath and his legs were very weak. He was also very confused. It was not a difficult decision for me. I knew it was time. I called Jen, my sisters, Mom and our good friends, Carl and Donna. We had coffee, some laughs and fellowship as I got things gathered up. Gerry didn't resist going. He was not really "here". He was admitted and is now in a private room in the Palliative Care unit. He is fighting sleep, as usual. Today he had a shot of morphine, a shot of Versad, a sedative. He tried to get out of bed and succeeded by eventually falling on the floor and having the power of a lift to pick him back up. He had another shot of Versad. This time he scooted to the bottom of the bed. We thought he needed the bathroom so we tried that. No luck! They gave his the third shot, this time intravenously and he dozed off. Gerry was never one to give in easily, even to the bitter end. He now talks incoherently to us. He talks about people who have passed away, his mother, his uncles Erskine and Ernest, old neighbors and friends. I am sure they are beckoning to him. His eyes are darting and blinking. He has a catheter. The priest was in and said the "Prayers for the Sick".

Jen and I are very sad.

Did I Mention?

2009-03-05T20:14:00.000-08:00

And by the way, Gerry has another infection BESIDES SALMONELLA. He now has pseudomonas. He is on two antibiotics now. There is never a dull moment.

Home vs Hospital?

2009-03-05T18:28:00.000-08:00

A tide of uncertainty washes over me tonight. The flirty tide ebbs at the shore of reason and recedes until the crest of a new current rises.
Gerry stumbled and fell three times this morning. He knees just buckled. Twice, I was not near. I had to help him gather his long, sprawling limbs and to stand him upright again. This afternoon, he seemed more stable but was "spotted" when walking. He is now sleeping in the living room on a sofa-bed. That was a big step. He is a man of routine and when I said he wasn't going upstairs tonight, he protested slightly but was easily persuaded to bunk down on the couch. I will sleep on it too.
I was talking to a couple of heath care professionals today. They used words and phrases like "hospital", "quality of life" and "you have to think of yourself". I am resisting putting him in the hospital. He loves home and so do I. I don't mind the work but now I am concerned about his safety. Tonight, he had another fall. I was right there but he tumbled and injured his face by his cheekbone. It was bleeding.
As I tucked him in, I wondered if I was getting in too deep; if I was drowning in an ocean of self-righteousness.
As the seas rise and fall, so does my uncertainty.

Every Day-Something New

2009-03-04T19:21:00.000-08:00

I am tired so here is a synopsis of today.
*I call his family doctor and leave a message to call me.
*Home care makes its first visit. Gerry is disengaged and unsteady on his feet but the visit goes well.
*I go to town. I order a swivel, rocker, recliner at Sears, etc. My neighbor, Donna, stays with Gerry.
*People visit. THANKS!
*Jen and Isaac visit. YEAH!!
*More people visit.
*Don't hear back from doc.
*I clean Gerry's feeding tube site and notice an abscess. I clean it out and it is bleeding. Fix it up the best I can. I will see what it is like in the morning. Always something....

Up a Tree

2009-03-03T15:36:00.000-08:00

There has been a change of plans. Today, after I helped Gerry downstairs, I noticed the feeding tube was threaded through his legs and he had come down with one sock on. He didn't even notice these things and since he got up quickly, I didn't have time to assess him before we headed down. He was also very "gravitationally insecure" and I felt battered by the time I got him settled. It was at that point I decided that Gerry could not be taken to Moncton in a van and experience a three stage test. The whole experience would take about 14 hours. There was just NO WAY. I called his family doctor and the physicians who share the practice were both stranded off Island. I called my dear friend and oncology nurse, Susan, to see if she thought I was making the right decision. She concurred with me so I quickly emailed Dr. Colosimo, head of nuclear medicine in Moncton,to cancel the appointment and received an almost immediate response expressing that he hoped we could arrange it a different way. Tomorrow, hopefully his doctors will be back on the Island and we can arrange a hospital to hospital transfer. That means he would be admitted here, transferred by ambulance to Moncton and be admitted there for the testing and then transported back to Summerside. Time will tell what will happen.

Last year, during the ice storms, Gerry would be fretting about the broken trees, the leaning boughs near the power line running to the house and the frozen drain near the garage door. This year he lies on the couch, looks out the window at the glassy branches and says how pretty they are.

Above is a photo taken late last January of Gerry (on the ladder) and his dear friend Carl as they cut down drooping branches near the power line leading to our house. He received his first diagnoses less than two weeks after this photo was taken.

The Bread Rises

2009-03-01T07:06:00.000-08:00

I am cooking.
I am making home made beans, home made bread and a raspberry custard pie I saw in my Martha Stewart magazine. Gerry used to love home made beans and home made bread. I have made thousands of loaves for him and every batch seemed, to him, to be better than the one before. He could make a meal out of bread and one more thing. I have seen him polish off a half loaf in one sitting. I am not sure if he will eat any of today's bounty. If he does, it will be a minuscule amount compared to his previous feasts.

Yesterday, I managed to get the IV done without a hitch. My sister Carol came out to be here when I did it, in the event that we had to call 911! Thanks, Carol. Gerry sleeps a lot; in fact I have to rouse hi shortly since I have to do the IV routine again. We head to Moncton for a white blood cell scan on Wednesday. It is going to be a very long tiring day for him.

As the bread rises, so do my apprehensions, about many things.

The picture above was taken last February 8, one day before we received his cancer diagnosis. Gerry and Isaac are enjoying Mumsie's home made bread and beans.

A New Challenge

2009-02-27T18:48:00.000-08:00

After Gerry's stomach surgery last year, he had to use a feeding at night to deliver enough nutrition to his altered body. They sent us home with a pump, boxes of food supplement, syringes, sterile water, tape, etc. We had been given a course on utilizing the pump, cleanliness, etc., etc. So, for almost every night since February 22 last year, I have connected the tube and everything that goes with it, and every morning, I have disconnected it. I said "almost every morning" since for periods of time, he tried to go without the feeding but could never quite eat enough to keep his tall, muscular body going.
We came home from the hospital yesterday after spending eleven days there. I now have a new challenges ahead of me. Gerry is on an antibiotic that is administered intravenously. Since he has a PICC line (this is a 42 cm. line that enters his body on his upper arm and is threaded through his circulatory system, terminating in his aorta), I, yes I said "I" am going to mix his drug, put it in an IV bag, hook it up to a pump, connect the tubing to his PICC line and run the drug into his body. I had training on how to do it. I know I can do it, but I do it today for the first time and there are a million little steps so I am a bit, er, tentative. Sister Carol is going to come out and assist with moral support.
I don't like having to do these things but I am glad I can do it so Gerry can be where he wants to be, HOME.
When he went to the hospital on February 16 he was on 20 mg of painkiller twice a day. He is now on 80 mg twice a day....not a good sign.

Gloves? What for?

2009-02-26T17:44:00.000-08:00

When Jen and Wayne moved back to the Island from Sussex, Gerry thought buying Lloyd's old house for them to live in was a great idea. So that is what happened. It had been built in about 6 different stages through the years so was all pieced up. In succeeding years, Gerry put it on a new poured concrete foundation, put in a cement floor in the basement, "squared off" the house by building additions to it, put new siding on it, put in a new chimney, etc. His strong and dirty hands were a testament to his hard work. He had a vision for the old house which sat on a beautiful lot with mature trees on Rayner Creek Road. He had planned on renovating the inside completely. It was all cut up and he had a vision in his head to gut out the bottom floor, redesign it and rebuilt it; something that Gerry had done many times before. He was a "doer". In fact, a former employer of his said to me this week, that while other people were thinking about what to do with a problem, Gerry had it DONE.
As time and his disease progressed, he said that he would have to hire a couple of men to help him. As more time passed he said he would oversee it and the men would do it. Finally, we hired men to do it. The work started this week as he lies in the hospital bed. Jen and I have never had to pay anyone before to do carpenter work for us. We took Gerry for granted. He just did it.
I took pictures of the renos today and showed them to him on my laptop. He so wished he could be there. He is getting out of the hospital tomorrow. I am going to administer the IV drugs at home. Yes, I know. It sounds scary and it is. He goes to Moncton on Wednesday for a nuclear medicine scan of his white blood cells.
Today, he told me he needs a pair of good work gloves. I am to go to Mark's and get him a good pair; a pair that will protect his small, lily-white hands. He has plans for his hands but I am doubtful that his body will hold them up.

A Giving Gift

2009-02-25T07:08:00.000-08:00

Four years ago, Gerry got me a very unusual Mother's Day present. Since I love gardening and wanted to make some new flower and vegetable beds, and replenish some old, I received a tandem truckload of topsoil in the corner of our backyard. As the dump truck dumped and the red soil tumbled, I envisioned the vivid blooms and the luscious vegetables that would spring from its bountiful depth. Every summer since then I have shovelled and wheelbarrowed many loads to near and far perimeters of our yard. We have enjoyed the grace and fragrance of the Casa Blanca lilies, the rapid growth of the red oak near our driveway, the tartness of the red rhubarb and the eye closing, mouth watering taste of a freshly picked ripe tomato.
Although the pile of dirt has diminished in the last four years, there is enough for one more summer. As I spread the iron-rich loam on the ground this year, I will think, with appreciation, of one of the best gifts I have ever received.

Good Start to the Day

2009-02-24T07:07:00.000-08:00

Gerry got up this morning and feels pretty well. He had a shower, shave, etc. and was lying down when I left. His sis-in-law, Irene, is going in for a bit while I do some things home. We still don't have a date for his Gallium scan or his aortal scan so until we get results from them, we are in the hospital. His mind is very clear today, so that is great! I feel like I am talking to a regular person!!
He said today how blessed and loved he feels to have me there all the time. That makes it all worth while.

A Hospital Room-An Extension of Home

2009-02-24T07:05:00.000-08:00

Gerry's hospital room has become an extension of our home.
Every day I go home and and head back to the hospital toting things on my list. I have a mirror, newspapers, a Martha Stewart Living magazine. There is a great recipe in it for "Raspberry Custard Pie". I am not sure when I will be able to make it. I have Gerry's favorite pillow, movies that I play on my laptop and two Willow Tree Angels given to be by friends; the Angel of Friendship and the Angel of Hope. Today, I took back a measuring tape. Gerry thought he needed one. He has been looking at the corner cabinet that holds the television. It has shelves and a little closet. He thinks he will build one for our big TV we got at Christmas. I explained to him that I didn't think he needed a tape measure since the dimensions would all be different and he has built houses from his head before so it would not be difficult for him to duplicate a simple corner cabinet but he persisted. Well, I took the measuring tape from home and he has not mentioned it since.
How much longer will we be here? I say "we" since I have been staying here, also, about 22 hours a day. I just CAN'T leave him at nights. He is staggery and I am afraid he will get up and fall. He has two scans coming up. Depending on the results, he could be on an aggressive antibiotic for weeks. The kicker is, it can only be administered intravenously. It is called "Imependium" or something close to that! Anyway, we will cross that bridge when we come to it. When he was home he was on 20 mg of long lasting painkiller twice per day. It is now up to 70 mg twice per day. I am concerned about the need for the increase. Chemo? Not sure yet what is going on there.
Thanks to my three beautiful sisters who are here every day and bring me things I request. I can't tell you how much I appreciate all of you!

Who Are You And What Have You Done With My Husband??

2009-02-20T07:32:00.000-08:00

Gerry thinks we are in a hotel. He wondered last night how much it would be to stay an extra night. I told him around $50 so he said we should stay since it wasn't too much.
He acts goofy in front of the nurses and it is embarrassing sometimes. I try to make eye contact with them and wink or nod. When I talk to them in the hall I tell them that he is not normally like this. He speech is garbled and his thoughts are fragmented and scattered.
He talks about building things and is constantly looking at the workmanship in his room for "straightness". Last night as he dozed off he was hammering in the air. I would love to know how many times he has wielded a hammer. It would be in the millions!
We are still trying to get his pains meds regulated. He has to go to Ch'town for a scan this week....more info to follow...

Arachnophobia

2009-02-18T17:44:00.000-08:00

Gerry is on pain meds and he is halucinating a bit. Today he wasn't as bad. He only saw a few spiders. The highlight of the day was, whilst waiting for the oncologist, he was lying on the examining table. He was looking at the ceiling and spotted another spider. He said Look-at-the-spider! I said It-is-not-a-spider. He said Yes-it-is. I-see-it-moving. I said Gerry-it-is-a-mark-on-the-ceiling-tile. And-it-is-winter-and-it-is-the-hospital. He said IT-IS-A-SPIDER. With that, he jumped off the table, grabbed the National Geographic I was reading, got up on the table on his knees and took a swipe at the ceiling with the Amalfi Coast! All the while, the IV hooked to his PICC line strained toward the IV pole.
He never did admit it wasn't a spider. In fact, he remarked later this evening, he wanted to go back and prove to me it WAS REALLY a spider!!

The staff is working on getting his meds regulated.
KUDOS go to Carl and Donna for feeding the stove and walking the dogs.

Life in the Grouchy Lane

2009-02-17T16:46:00.000-08:00

Remember this.
We have a wood stove in the basement. Although Gerry and I have split the blocks with the wood splitter, sometimes I need smaller pieces. Gerry HATES it when I do this because he is scared that I will cut myself with the axe and I hear him sighing upstairs and yelling "ARE YOU ALRIGHT?"

I don't want everyone to think that this whole experience that we are going through is all lovey-dovey, full of mushy, reflective nostalgia. Today was one of those days that Gerry really irked me.
I am not sure if it is the drugs, (Dilaudid injection every two hours) the infection in his bladder and blood, the cancer or combinations of the aforesaid mentioned but he really TRIED my nerves today.
If I pulled the curtain too far, there was a sigh and a gesture.
If I couldn't make out what he said, there was the comment, "You should have your hearing checked.".
If I moved the chair and it scraped across the floor, there was "THE LOOK".
I held my tongue. I didn't speak. I didn't give him "The stare". I didn't give him the "Silent treatment". I wanted to. BIG TIME.
I just kept thinking, "Here I am, off work, devoting my time to you, making you a priority, advocating for you, becoming more educated on your condition so I can make informed decisions and ask intelligent questions and you are giving me GRIEF?"????" Meanwhile, when visitors called, he was the perfect gentleman, laughing, joking, engaging in conversation that would befit Barak Obama and I would think, "What's up with this?" And to top it off, when I left tonight, he snidely remarked, "I suppose you are going to have a glass of wine."
"I said, "Yeah, probably." And guess what Gerry, I AM HAVING A GLASS OF WINE.
AND, I SPLIT WOOD IN THE BASEMENT TOO.....TWO BIG PIECES OF BIRCH AND I DIDN'T CUT MYSELF!
Last night I cried all the way home because I felt so bad for him
Tonight I cried all the way home because I felt bad for ME.

Strong vs Weak

2009-02-16T17:38:00.000-08:00

As I glanced over my shoulder, tonight, at Gerry's feeble figure basking in the glow of the hospital TV, I was taken back to another time which was much different.
It was a few years ago that we decided to sell the big upright piano that Jen had, sometimes reluctantly, played. She loved music but never really enjoyed playing the piano, much to my chagrin. Since she was now on her own we chose to pass on the piano to anyone who would pay $300. We received a call and after giving our address, a half-ton drove in the yard. Expecting a crew of men to exit, we eyed a little ancient man with the money in his hand. He backed up to the front door and Gerry started to move the unmovable. The old man, at the back of the piano, held his hands on the sides as Gerry tugged with gritted teeth and grunted as sweat broke out on his brow. As the piano advanced, the older one remarked how heavy "she" was, even though he was bearing about one-tenth of the weight. The piano moved magically as I stood back giving directions. Finally, it was on the truck, parting words were said and the old man drove off, happily.
This morning, Gerry could not sit up in bed. With the help of my sisters, we got him to the hospital and he was admitted for a bladder infection. He is confused and very sick and will be in the hospital until this clears up. I am wondering about the "benefits" of chemo.
Gerry has a saying...."I have a strong back, but a weak mind." Right now the only strong thing is cancer.

Gerry the Protector

2009-02-15T15:55:00.000-08:00

As Gerry hid in the kitchen, the man at the door knocked and mumbled.
I had been awaken minutes before to Millie's alarming bark and felt my way dwnstairs in the dark to hear someone knocking on the door. I heard a man talking to himself in drunken slang; talking about needing a drive and wanting to use the phone. I had silenced Millie and I listened, hoping he would go away. I was scared. He continued to knock so I crept silently upstairs to get Gerry. I said, "Someone is at the door and he's drunk." Gerry srpang from the bed, pulled on his jeans and was downstairs in a flash, with me behind him. He hid in the kitchen and listened to the knocking.
"I want to use the phone!" the voice said.
All of a sudden the tone changed and he said " this. I am going in!" For some unknown reason, we did not lock the door that night and he opened it and started to enter our home. Gerry, in the dark, was on him with panther like speed. He grabbed him my the collar and literally threw him on the deck. The intruder tumbled off the desk and rolled onto the lawn. I forget what Gerry was saying, but it was not, "Welcome to the Bernard home". The man got up, brushed himself off and started for the road. I could see him gersturing obscenly to Gerry and yelling uncomplimentary comments back at him but he did not offer to return!

Gerry is a fierce defender of his property and his family. I was reminded of this story last night as I spied the baseball bat under our bed.

It is now three days after chemo and Gerry is starting to feel a bit better. He has chemo a week from Monday if his bloodwork is OK.

Horse Sense

2009-02-13T07:06:00.000-08:00

I had the occasion to go over to our barn the other day. It is now used as storage for some of Gerry's junk. It was a cold day and as I walked in my thoughts went back to years ago when we had horses in there. As I looked straight ahead, there was the stall that Whirley had. He was the quarter horse colt that cornered me one day since he did not like anyone around him when he was eating his grain. Next was Molly's stall. She was a beautiful, kind Appaloosa that I had to give penicillin shots to, to prevent infection from a bite she received the day we got her. Gerry held her head and I injected her, not willingly! And there was Queenie's stall. She was a big old Belgian that we tired to breed but whose biological clock had run out. As my mind drifted back, I saw the vapor from the horse's breath on those cold winter days, the cobwebs hanging from the windows, the flecks of hay and straw dust as they danced in the sunbeams and I heard the snorts and whinnies from the herd as they awaited their grain and hay. And the cats, they were in my mind's eye too. Their tails were held high as they meowed to be fed. And there was Gerry with his coveralls on, forking the manure into the wheelbarrow and wheeling it outside the open barn doors to the pile over and over....the sweet smell of manure filling my nostrils. We sold the horses a few years ago and their places were taken by old doors, windows, antique hand pumps and almost anything else you could mention...but they are "boring" things. Not like the horses and the sights, sounds and smells of that day.

Marg and Meds

2009-02-10T18:52:00.000-08:00

Gerry had his second chemo treatment today. YIPPEE!! Donnie was in the chemo room too. I knew Donnie when I used to work as a casual at the Post Office in the early 80's. He was head letter carrier and I was a lowly letter sorter. I became good friends with his wife, Marg, later, though TOPS (Take Off POUNDS Sensibly). Marg is a bit older than I am (not much!) but she is the kind of person you want to be like when you grown up. She is SWEET! We had a secret heart-to-heart in the hall. We talked about how we feel guilty about being annoyed with our husbands, about how hard it is to be "there" all the time and how we yearn for our old lives. Gerry and Donnie are both receiving the same treatment for liver cancer. When Marg and I went on a trip together to Atlanta a few years back, we didn't know that we would sharing the chemo room today. It certainly would have tainted the fun we had!!
Gerry is on pain meds and I find he is uncharacteristically jolly. I am glad he is happy but the fact that it is not normal, is troubling.

Plans....

2009-02-08T20:24:00.000-08:00

He keeps saying...TOMORROW
I am going to put the trim around those windows.
I am going to light the wood stove in the workshop.
I am going to "cork" the tub in the apartment.
I am going to put the Christmas decorations in the attic.
I appreciate everything you do for me even though I don't get the things done that I said I would.

A TWO PAXIL DAY

2009-02-07T19:57:00.000-08:00

Gerry has lost his license..... DUI of cancer (Driving Under the Influence of Cancer)
I told him today that I don't want him driving right now. I am worried that he will not have an acceptable reaction time and that he will not make good decisions in operating a motor vehicle. I told him that I am telling him this out of concern for him and he replied that he knows I have his best interests at heart. I told him when he gets "squared around" he will be driving again.

My Experiment

2009-02-06T05:51:00.000-08:00

My eyes have been bothering me a lot lately so I decided to do an experiment yesterday. It went like this:
Hypotheses-Tears cause one's eyes to burn after repeated exposure
Materials-Eyes and maybe tears
Procedure-Whenever I feel like crying, I will STOP and think of something fun.
Conclusion-YES, it is true. My eyes felt fine last night.

Every time yesterday, when I was cast in the pit of sadness, I thought of the EXPERIMENT. I went for a walk and saw a truck like ours go by then wondered how much more Gerry would be driving his truck. I could feel the tear bucket filling up and just before it overflowed I took a deep breath and the level went down.When I opened the freezer in the afternoon, there was a big piece of dark fruitcake, Gerry's favorite and I thought how he would hoe into that if he was well. Once again, I could feel the tingling in my eyes start but remembered the EXPERIMENT.
Last night, as I put the nightly wood in the stove, I gazed at the diminishing pile of wood that Gerry and I had split last summer, finishing it on his last day of chemo. I picked up a piece, stopped for a moment and remembered that beautiful sunny day, in the back field, Gerry hoisting the heavy logs on the splitting platform as I controlled the hydraulics that would split the log into a size more conducive for our stove to use. It was a happy, happy, day. Many days of chemo and radiation were done and he was still able to do things he wanted to do. As I thought of this, I also thought of how small his muscles are now and how white his hands are and since it was late and my experiment was over, I let the tears fall.

Chemo....NOT!

2009-02-03T18:41:00.001-08:00

Gerry was supposed to start chemo today. He had his blood work done and his Neutrophil count was too low to have the chemo. Neutrophils are white blood cells who are specially designed to fight infections. He was not really as disappointed as I was. I didn't show it but it just seemed like another roadblock. He came home and had a rest. I went back to town and ran errands. Around 1:00, he and his buddy, Carl, went to Arsenault's Saw Mill to pick up some lumber for a wagon Carl is repairing. They unloaded it when they got home, he then visited the carpenter who is going to do Jen's renos and did a few other things. Jen, Wayne and Isaac came down for some chicken fricot and home made bread that sister-in-law, Irene, brought to us. Gerry had some home made bread and "sandwich spread" and I had TOO MUCH fricot!
As dusk descended on another day, the northeast wind brought an abundance of snow. It was another day that our family was intact.

Good Drugs

2009-02-02T18:38:00.001-08:00

I have been missing Isaac.
I miss picking him up at the sitters and I miss the activity he creates when he is here. Although Gerry would lay down his life for him, Isaac's presence for great periods of time is not conducive to healing! So I was thrilled to have Jen, Wayne and Isaac visit last night for supper and to spend some time with us.
When they arrived, I tried to grab Isaac for a quick hug...but he ran away, spying something interesting to explore. Throughout the visit, I would endeavor to playfully grab him but, in his exuberance, he would giggle and wiggle free. Jen mentioned that he it is hard to get a cuddle from him since he is busy learning experientially!
About an hour after supper, Gerry went to get a "cup of tea" and Isaac wanted a "cuppateatoo". It has become a tradition. Gerry has his tea and Isaac has his chocolate milk or some other drink, in this case, red Gatorade. They sat side by side on the couch with their "tea" and toasted with the traditional "Cheers" chant, clicking Corel cups with vigor; Isaac more vigorous than Gerry.
It was then, that I saw my chance. I sat by Isaac and he was now positioned between Gerry and I. After one of the toasts, I gently put my arm around him and drew him near. I kissed his sweet little head and as he sipped his Gatorade. I held my lips to it for a long time. It was as if a stream of well-being transcended from his warm little fine-haired head, passed osmotically through my lips and was directed to a pleasure seeking portion of my brain. I felt great comfort. It was a drug more effective and pleasurable than anything that could be bought in the best pharmacy in the world or purchased illicitly in any dark alley of a big city. It was free and it was legal and I took a few more "hits" of it before the night was over.

Yearning For Old Times

2009-02-01T05:54:00.000-08:00

It was heartwarming to come home from town yesterday and see the workshop door open. As I entered, there were Gerry and Carl, mounting a mail box on a stand for our new neighbor. Pungent welding smoke filled the front end of the shop as Carl adjusted his welding helmet. Gerry sat fiddling with the door on the box, trying to get it to close. They were exchanging insults. It was like just old times.

Last night Gerry's two brothers and sister came over for a game of auction. There was the usual bluffing, swearing, pounding the table and laughing. Gerry enjoyed the game but found it hard to sit for a long period of time so I had to take over once in a while. After they left, he conveyed to me that he was not feeling well at all; that he felt things were coming quick. I didn't know what to say.

After he went to bed, I was fidgeting around, something I do a lot these days. His coveralls and work jacket were laying on the washing machine. For some reason I searched the pockets. I found Kleenex in one pocket, nothing in the next, Kleenex in another and then I found what I was looking for......two nails in the left pocket of his jacket. They would be there so he could take them out with his left hand and hammer them with his right. It was a vision that gave me peace. It was just like old times.

Thank God It's Only Food Poisioning

2009-01-30T19:11:00.001-08:00

Well, I got an interesting call this morning. The call display said "Dept. of Health". I am not surprised to get calls from health departments anymore. It was from a public health nurse named Karen. She said blood test results from Gerry revealed that he had Salmonella poisoning!!!!!!!!!!! She asked if he had eaten any undercooked meat lately and I replied that he hasn't eaten hardly ANYTHING lately to which she wondered if he had eaten any raw vegetables, nuts.....I said NOOO, he is not eating much and is on a feeding tube. The thing is, he is feeling a lot better as of tonight. I think it may have been lingering for a while.
I DO have to remind myself that he still has aggressive cancer and that, although he is feeling better, it may not last, but I will TAKE TODAY.

Home and Eating Carl's Peanut Brittle

2009-01-29T17:40:00.000-08:00

Gerry is home from the hospital. Jen and Isaac were here for a visit this afternoon. It was awesome to spend time with them!! Gerry is feeling a lot better than he was before he want in, OBVIOUSLY! That was the goal! He is getting his pain meds under control so that makes him more comfortable.

Thanks to our dear neighbors, Carl and Donna. They are ALWAYS doing things for us. Today, Donna made supper for me, and Carl made Gerry peanut brittle. Donna said Carl took longer that usual because he wanted it to be perfect, for Gerry. I could go on and on about their generosity, but I will save that for another time.

Cry or Laugh

2009-01-28T17:40:00.000-08:00

Were you ever in a situation where you wanted to laugh and couldn't? Or shouldn't? Or it would be just plain RUDE?
The first time it happened to me was at the funeral home during my father's wake. My father had drown. My Mom, sisters and I were in shock. We had endured hundreds of people passing by us, conveying their condolences, saying they were sorry and we were languishing in our sorrow. I am not sure what happened but as I was sobbing, I started to laugh, OUT LOUD. I stiffled it but remember how embarassed I was.
That could have happened to me today if I had not been more careful.
I have been really sad since Gerry's last diagnosis two weeks ago. My whole thinking revolved around him; his healing or non-healing his life or death and my future with him or without him. Today he got "a bed" and was moved to a bright room with a view, as opposed to spending two days in the Emergency Deptartment in a dark corner. That would be enough to make anyone give up. Gerry immediatey began to feel better after he got his new room. It was a semi-private and it wasn't long before his roomate moved it. He was an elderly gentleman known to us, who has suffered from a stoke a day or two before PLUS, I would say, has a touch of Alzheimer's. He was from a local farming community located in a valley and he may have been off the Island before but I am not sure. His wife was "coarse" as my mother would say and was well known for her love of the bottle. Her voice and coughing were testaments to her life long love of cigarettes. Poor Fred (not real name) had been housed in the Emergency Department with Gerry the night before and was telling his visiting wife about all the cows that were there last night. Gerry said he did not recall any bovines running around...and Fred said there were PIGS too.....Lots of pigs. Well, the nurse came in and was asking Fred routine questions for his admission.
Have you been to a hospital out of the province in the last 12 months......
Do you have asthma? diabetes?
Have you ever been exposed to HIV!!!! I LOST IT...I couldn't stop laughing. There was poor Fred with a shock of white hair standing on his head and mumbling in a muffled tone...Noooo.... I am glad the curtain was across. I had to stifle my laugh...
Then she asked him if he had any allergies. He said yes....he was allergic to a drug he was on one time....she asked what it was...he said...CRESTON (Crestor...a cholesterol medication)....(I could feeling a giggle starting to build up)...then she said....what are the reactions you have? And he said....they stripped the muscles from my legs...(I could feel the giggle growing....) Then his wife added...it happened to a lot of people in "THE VALLEY"....I was shaking by this time, covering my mouth with my hand.....the giggle had grown into a breathless silent LAUGH....I was picturing people in the valley with legs stripped of muscle.....THEN he said that it was no surprise since it said the muscle stripping was a side effect and it said so right on the package!!!!!!!!!!!!! (I was wheezing by now....Gerry was trying not to laugh out loud too.) And if you knew the characters in the scene it would be even funnier!
It was a stress-reliever. I am sure there was a reason Fred and Maggie were put in Gerry's room today. His cheeks grew rosier, smile grew broader and his love of laughter had risen from the dead.

Gerry today

2009-01-27T19:47:00.001-08:00

Gerry does not have a bladder infection. He has a blood infection. Dr Khan, the oncologist, said it is common in patients with a blocked bile duct. He is on IV antibiotics and will be in the hospital for a couple of days. He does not have a room yet...maybe tomorrow! He is on a lot of pain meds and is in and out of sleep but shaved himself today with an electric razor...thanks to my sista Chick! His bilirubin level is down which indicates the chemo could be working.

Love Affair With A Tree

2009-01-27T18:41:00.000-08:00

Our grandson Isaac was born on November 16, 2006. November 16 is my father's birthday so when he appeared on that date, we were thrilled!
Every Christmas when I was a child, we performed the ritual of hunting for a Christmas tree. In the 60's, you could go to anyones's woods and cut down a tree. You didn't even have to know the person! The woods belonged to everyone!! In mid-December my 3 sisters, Dad and I would drive along back roads of Indian River, Spring Valley and Long River. We would trudge through the woods seeking the perfect tree. Sometimes, Dad would cut it down, stand it up in the snow for our perusal and let it slowly fall into the soft snow after we disapproved because it was too skinny; something my sisters and I hated, and still DO hate, in all living things!

In the quest of beginning new Christmas traditions with out family, we decided to take Isaac Christmas tree hunting this year. Times had changed since the 60's and we were relegated to the hunt at a tree farm. Jen, Wayne, Isaac, Gerry and I headed out on a mission one Sunday in December with a saw and a truck, looking for two trees.....two trees that were not skinny. Gerry was feeling well then; not his "old self" but well enough to trudge through the swampy swale. At times he carried Isaac, his little legs unable to keep the pace. Finally, we found one and then two fat trees and the three men cut them down. Isaac's cheeks were rosy from the frosty air but we were exposing him to experiential learning. Wayne dragged one tree to the road where we would pick it up and Gerry hauled the other one but was unable to finish the course. The much younger and healthier Wayne completed the relay.
I put the tree up, enjoyed its fragrance, decorated it and undecorated it. For some reason I just could not take it down after the festive season. It was in a room that we did not use much so it didn't matter if it was left in the corner. There was no reason to leave it up. Something was holding me back from taking it down. I told a friend, whose husband was also suffering from cancer, that I did not want to take it down since I was not sure what my life would be like when another one went up next year. She agreed and also admitted that although it was well into January, some of her decorations still graced her house.

My tree is still up. I am not sure when I will take it down. The needles dry. They fall to the floor. The branches become brittle. There is little fragrance. It is becoming skinny but it stands and will stand and I love it.

Mom and Me

2009-01-26T21:09:00.000-08:00

Gerry is in the hospital. His cheeks looked red tonight and he was nauseous despite the anti-nausea drugs he was taking. I took his temperature and it was 38.8, 0.8 degrees above the magic "38.0" at which time active chemo patients must report to the hospital. To make a long story short, he was admitted. He has a bladder infection and they are giving him a lung CT scan tomorrow. I am nervous.

As I was driving home tonight near midnight, I started feeling sorry for myself, then I thought of Mom. One day in May, 1972, Dad went trout fishing with his brother-in-law. As the Mountie cars sped over the railway tracks in Kensington later that day, little did we know they were heading to the Lake of Shining Waters in Park Corner. Dad and my uncle had both been drowned. Here was Mom;
-42 years old
-with 4 daughters, the oldest 17 (me and heading to an out-of province university in September)
-living with her mother
-working at Cavendish Farms
-with no life insurance
-with a car but no driver's license
-with no medical plan

I am still not sure how she did it.
As I thought about her, she gave me strength and I knew I would be alright.

Gerry's condition....

2009-01-25T19:29:00.000-08:00

Gerry is not feeling great. He finished chemo on Friday and is worn out, nauseated, etc. He does not look good. He has not driven his truck in a week.
:-((

Counting Crows

2009-01-25T16:53:00.001-08:00

One day as I stood in the kitchen of Gerry's father's house, he stood gazing out the window at the snow speckled fields. From his mouth came the words, "Two crows joy..."
He turned as I said, "What does that mean?"
As the ashes from his cigarette fell to the floor, he asked, "Ya never heard a that before?"
"No." I answered pensively.
He recited,
"One crow, sorrow
Two crows, joy
Three crows, a letter
Four crows, a boy."

I walked over to the window and peered out and, sure enough, two crows were pecking at the exposed potato stalks, seeking sustenance to get them through this cold day. I wondered what joy would happen as a result of their pairing and our sighting.

Since then, when I see crows, that little ditty echoes in my head.

Yesterday, I was at our apartments which are located beside the vacant "Rosemary" house. This was a century home and carriage shed we bought a few years ago. Rosemary, the previous owner, had passed away in the house by her own hands and I have always felt a ghostly presence whenever I was at the property. Maybe it was the magotted rat I found in the barn, the rope hanging from a loft beam or the reappearing Guardian mailbox at the driveway's end, after I had taken it down and put it in the barn, several times. Or it could have been the many crucifixes we found in the house, pictures of the Last Supper that graced the discolored walls or the dead birds in the dark attic. Gerry had planned to make apartments out of the old house that stood "straight as a die" and had already done some work on it before falling ill. After putting the house on the real estate market, some friends told me about the good fortune they had selling their houses, after burying a St. Joseph's medal under the For Sale sign. St. Joseph is the patron saint of real estate and I thought he was worth a shot. It took several months but the property finally sold and I give St. Joseph full credit.

I gazed at the property yesterday and thought of how eerie I always felt when I was there. I was also disheartened to think Gerry was not well enough to fulfil his dream of turning the shabby and tired house into a vibrant dwelling. He lamented many times in the last year, about how he wished he had his health to work on the house. Although it was a financial relief when the house sold, it was also the end of an era for Gerry; an era of visions, hard work and dreams fulfilled. As my eyes followed the roof, up towards the chimney they met with one crow flying overhead.

WINGS AND WINDOWS

2009-01-24T03:44:00.000-08:00

As the mourning doves' wings whispered gently against our kitchen window, I couldn't help but be reminded of a time many, many years ago in my grandmother's kitchen.

It was a time when grammies didn't work, wore dresses and aprons, cleaned the tops of the coal stoves with emery paper until they shone and baked raisin puff, drop cookies and cooked pumpkin jam. On day, as I played on the oil-clothed floor, I heard a thud and turned my head toward the window. My grandmother gasped and looked at me. "Did you see that?" she asked.

"What?" I answered, as I got up to have a look.

"A bird hit the window! That means there is going to be a death in the family," she imparted.

As I looked out the window, there it was; little sparrow lying on the step, beak gaping, eyes staring and breaths diminishing.

"Is it really true that someone is going to die, Grammie?" I anxiously quizzed.

She responded, "That's what THEY SAY."

I really can't remember if any family member died due to the bird's collision but I do know that in the 45 years since then, quite a few relatives have passed on so it may be true!

Last summer, I decided I wanted a ledge bird feeder for my kitchen window. Gerry and I went to the workshop and he whipped one up in about 10 minutes and installed it just outside my kitchen window so I could enjoy the jays, chickadees, etc., at close range. After I poured some seeds in it, it was no time until the birds started to flock to it. I had to remain still when they were feeding, lest they would become startled and fly away. It gave me a wonderful opportunity to see these amazing creatures at close range.

Recently, mourning doves began to visit. In fact, the other day, one just sat in the feeder, watching me as I went about performing kitchenly duties. It sat there a long time before spreading its wings and coasting to the top of the garden shed. Lately, there have been three doves in the feeder. I move around the kitchen freely as they watch. When they want some seeds they jostle each other, jockeying for the best position in the feeder. Their wings gently brush the window over and over again. They scramble around, pecking at each other unaware that I am watching them and thinking of that day, long ago. A day of Grammie, a bird and a window.

January 23

2009-01-23T04:59:00.000-08:00

Gerry had a "slow" day yesterday. He never got up until 11:00 and then laid down on the couch after I disconnected his feeding tube. The new tube is much more comfortable. Thanks to my dear friend, (nurse) Susan, for gently encouraging Dr. Bannon to replace it.

I feel Gerry is getting a bit mixed-up, just not as sharp as was was. He was also saying that he noticed how free doctors were with their pain medication now. Also, Gerry asked Dr. Khan if it would be OK to have a beer and he said it would be. Gerry noted to me that liver problems and beer don't usually mix, so he said he KNOWS why the doctor said he partake in something he enjoys.

I was lookimg at some old pictures yesterday. It is very difficult to look at them now. There he is, working, playing, holding Jen, beside me. Everything was fine. How I yearn for those days again.

Gerry gets his chemo pump off today. He has to go in again in two weeks to get it on again.

Enjoy your day!!

Jan. 22

2009-01-22T06:30:00.001-08:00

Since I have had so many people interested in how Gerry is doing, I took a suggestion from a dear friend and decided to write it in a blog to get to as many people as possible. I appreciate ALL your emails, good wishes, etc. but I have so many good friends, it is impossible to respond to every one personally. Please continue to email me and I will respond as time permits.

Here is the chronology of Gerry's latest condition:

On December 17, he had a CT scan to check his abdominal area for any returning cancer. On December 30 we met with his oncologist, Dr. Khan, who informed us that the scan was clear. The next appointment with him would be in three months for a lung x-ray. We REJOICED! All the treatmets and tears of the previous 10 months had paid off. We celebrated the New Year with renewed hope. D. Khan also suggested we try to go without the feeding tube for a couple of weeks to see if he could maintain his weight. The first week went great. With almost constant eating, he only lost 1/2 lb., which was in the ball park. On Monday, Jan. 5, he woke up feeling like he had the flu with pains in his tummy, nausea and fatigue. OK, there was a lot of flu going around at that time. He could not eat much since his appetite was not there. Later in the week, I noticed that he had a yellowish tinge to his skin but I didn't mention it to him. Maybe I was imagining things. That was until HE noticed it too. He was sleeping a lot. On Jan. 10, I was heading to town on icy roads and "accidently" put the car in the ditch. I called Gerry but he was still in bed and did not answer the phone. It was the first time in my life that Gerry could not come to rescue me. I had to call our neighbor to come up with his tractor and tow me out with the help of another neighbor. I was very disheartened. I confided to a few friends that I was afraid something was very wrong with Gerry and that I was worried that the cancer had come back in his liver.

We went to his family doctor on Monday, Jan. 12. She referred him to the surgeon who performed the major stomach surgery last Feb. Gerry's feeding tube was bothering him and he had pain in another part of his abdomen. I keep thinking it was nothing since he had gotten a clear scan report in December and it was only a month ago. I was HOPING it was gall bladder. Dr. Bannon thought long and hard and told Gerry he needed to be in the hospital, so he was admitted the next day for blood work, ultrasound and another CT scan. The tests comfirmed Dr. Bannon's initial diagnosis, although he didn't tell us at the time. There was now cancer in his liver. The bile duct was blocked and we would have to see Dr. Khan for consultation.

Gerry was now back on the feeding tube since he was very nauseous and had no appetite. He had lost almost 5 lb.

We saw Dr. Khan on Tueday, Jan. 20. He stated that the tumors were not that significant but their location was troublesome. They were right at the duct. If they had been anywhere else, they would still be undetected. Why didn't they show up on the scan a month ago? They were very small and were aggressive. Everything about Gerry has been aggressive. Why should the cancer be different?? The doctor gave Gerry the option of trying chemo. There was a 30% chance that it will shrink the tumors and "buy time". The chemo would not destroy the tumors but give him a longer time on earth.

Gerry started his chemo yesterday. He had several drips and is now wearing a chemo pump for two days. He went to bed last night with two tubes running into him; his feeding tube and his chemo pump. I continue to take care of him and am off work until the end of next week for sure and we will see after that.

Appreciate each little second that you have with your loved ones. You never know how many more you have with them.

Stay tuned.