Journal History

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Sunday, August 29, 2004 7:44 PM CDT

"How are you?" he asked, and like many, (although not all,) he genuinely wanted to know.

"I'm thoroughly miserable 24/7, interspersed with periods of total despair. I miss Gerry more each day, not less. Nothing helps; nothing eases the pain. It takes my breath away and makes me frantic to escape it. I can physically feel the pain of my broken heart. I don't feel his presence because I'm too overwhelmed by his absence. I am alone, lost, despondent," I wanted to say.

Instead I said, "I'm making it."



Hello, everyone. I am in Memphis this week, visiting my friend, Pat, and her daughter, Tera. Pat and I have been close friends for about 8 years. Tera was diagnosed with a brain tumor a year before Gerry was. She is now 11 years old, and her tumor is growing again. She and her parents are staying at the Ronald McDonald House in Memphis while Tera undergoes further treatment at St. Jude Children's Research Hospital to stop her tumor again. Her family needs all of your prayers. If you would like to check her progress, their website is www.terasplace.org

I know that it has been a very long time since I wrote. That's partially because I've been busy with the start of school and re-establishing routines, and partially because this particular entry has been kicking around in my brain, forming quietly, for some time now.

When Gerry and I started this website two years ago, we had no way to anticipate all that it would become. It was, at the time, mainly a way to disseminate information about Gerry's illness to our friends and family. It was a management tool for cutting down on the phone calls but not leaving folks in the dark. Over time, it nourished us. It encouraged us when friends, family, and even strangers from near and far would write to say they were thinking about us and praying for us. It became a forum to share not just information, but feelings, struggles, triumphs...the things Gerry's illness brought with it.

Now, I think, the time has come for me to stop writing here. The site will still be here, and I will check from time to time for messages, but that's all. There is nothing more to say. We are down to the everyday tedium of grief. The "getting on with it." There is nothing to report. A million little things pile up each day to cause us pain. We miss Gerry with every breath we take.

As for myself, I don't want to sleep. I don't want to be awake. I don't want to be at home. I don't want to be away. I don't want to be in familiar places because of all the memories. I don't want to be in new places because those are experiences I'm not sharing with Gerry. I feel trapped in some hellish existence that I didn't choose and can't escape. Nothing is right, nor will it ever be again.

That's the way things are now, and will be for the foreseeable future. I know that probably sounds very different from the writing I've done on this site over the last couple of years. I don't regret being absolutely hopeful and optimistic and certain that everything would be alright. I think that's the only way Gerry and I and the boys could have made the most of the time we had together. We couldn't have lived those months in fear and sadness, always waiting for the other shoe to drop. I'm glad we faced it head on.

But that part is over now. This part is long, and sad, and monotonous. I'm not sure that other version of me exists anymore. This experience is changing me. I don't know what the end result will be, but I'm not that other person right now, and I don't want to pretend to be. Neither do I want to be a messenger of despair, endlessly recounting my daily sadness, so I think it's best that I be finished here.

As you know, I am a person of many words. However, I have no words to express my gratitude for the way everyone who has read this site has reached out to us in some way. Whether it was just checking in without a message, thereby making the counter increase (I'm such a numbers junkie!), or sending a message, or saying a prayer, or doing something more tangible for us, all of you have played a part in our getting through this experience. "Thank you" seems woefullly inadequate, but it's all I have.
Thank you.

Love and blessings,
Laura

Thursday, August 12, 2004 0:35 AM CDT

Hello, everyone.

In the car yesterday, the boys were chatting and I was only half listening until Patrick said, "If only Daddy were here."

At that, of course, I tuned into the conversation, trying to mentally brace myself for whatever poignant and heartbreaking statement was to follow.

He continued, "If only Daddy were here, we could have gotten to the front of every line."

I had to chuckle. It's nice to know that in the midst of their sadness, my children can still be children, sometimes concerned primarily with their own egocentric pleasures. What followed was a (bitter)sweet discussion of which rides Daddy would've enjoyed at Disneyworld, had he been able to go and ride with us.

Gerry must've been on Patrick's mind this evening, too. Patrick was looking at the black and white photos in the kitchen and remembering the fun we had during the photo shoot. I'm especially glad he can remember something other than Gerry's decline and death.

It's been two months since Gerry died. How could two months have come and gone already?

How can it be only two months I've been without him when the loss of him feels so infinite?

How can the world not have ceased functioning without him in it?

It seems to me that the very sky should reflect the grey gloom that has settled on those of us who loved Gerry so deeply. It seems like so much longer than two months since he left us. It feels like I've been sad forever already.

I know that part of the reason it seems longer is that he really wasn't with us for quite some time before he died. He was more my charge than my partner in those last months. In a way, my grief is older than two months. In some ways, my grief is two years old, because much was lost when we first heard the words, "brain tumor."

Yet my grief is still very fresh, very raw. It's new, and bitter, and uncomfortable. It brings with it not only pain but also uncertainty. So much of what I believed about my life, my future, my very identity - is gone now, forever.

The life I was building, had built, has been stolen before my very eyes. Watching Gerry die, along with our future together, was like being a little kid on the seashore. I watched, horrified and helpless, as the tide came in, wave by wave, destroying my beautiful castle.



Love and blessings,
Laura

Saturday, August 7, 2004 1:02 PM CDT

Hello, everyone.

No, we have not fallen off the planet. We've been out of town without internet access.

We took a rather last minute, spur of the moment, week long trip down to Gulf Shores with some friends. Gerry and I have always taken the kids to the beach every summer, and the boys didn't want the summer to end without our beach trip. So, knowing that it would be impossibly hard for me, emotionally, to go down there alone, I asked some friends if they could go with us. We booked what were just about the last available accomodations for all of us and went.

The beach has always been a very special place for Gerry and me. We had hoped to eventually retire there, and spend our golden years walking the beaches and enjoying visits from our children, grandchildren, and friends. We used to sit side by side on the beach for hours, just reading books and chatting and watching the boys play. It was our favorite place.

So, understandably, it was very bittersweet for me to be down there last week. As much as I love the beach, it, like everything, has lost its luster for me without Gerry there to share it. Going to all of our favorite haunts down there was important to the boys, but a little hard on us, too. Nothing is right anymore.

We are home now, and the boys start school next week. They meet their teachers on Monday and their first full day is Wednesday. It will probably be helpful to us in some ways to get back into that routine. In other ways, though, I know that it will be the routine that gets me down a little. Once we're back to school, it will be even more obvious that Gerry doesn't come home at the end of the day. It will be painfully obvious that he's not there to help decide what's for dinner. He won't be there to catch up at the end of the day and share stories of things that happened that day. It will all be different, and wrong. Nothing is right anymore.

Time is supposed to help all of this, some people say. More often, though, the people who have been through similar situations say that it's not that simple. The sadness and deep sense of loss never go away. I guess it just becomes somehow bearable over time. Maybe people just learn to live with it, to adjust to the constant ache, the way people with a physical pain or challenge eventually learn to work around it or tune it out. I don't know. All I know is that so far, it's getting harder and harder, not easier. Of course, it's only been two months. Time is creeping.

I'll try to write more sometime soon.
Love and blessings,
Laura

Thursday, July 22, 2004 11:13 PM CDT

Hi, everyone.

Well, we're home, and we're tired!!! We came home on Tuesday, after a few more fun filled days in the midst of all things Disney. On Monday, we went to Disney Quest, which is a five story arcade, with lots of virtual reality games and classic arcade games, too. All of the boys loved it. Jacob was completely kicking behind on a kung-fu type game. (Regular arcade, not virtual reality.) He was playing against a guy who was probably about 17, and Jacob's character kept knocking out the other guy's character. The older guy would just look down at J and shake his head in defeat. It was great.

Zak and I especially enjoyed a game where we designed our own roller coaster. The computer stored our design on a card, which we took over to a simulator and rode our coaster. It was fun, and we tried it twice because our first coaster was only a 4 out of 5 on the scariness scale. Our second one was a 5.

Patrick loved the driving games, and he and I raced a good bit. He's a wild driver! I'm glad they don't let 6 year olds drive on the street.

When we arrived home, we discovered that some wonderful friends had done a little HGTV number on our house. Things were re-organized, and straightened, and cleaned...it was amazing. The carpets had been cleaned, the deck had been pressure washed, closets had been completely re-organized, a whole new room had been set up for Zak! We have all been very happy with everything that was done. We knew about a little of it, but had no idea that our fairy organizers had become completely posessed! Thank you VERY much, you guys.

Since we have been home, I've tried to keep on track with the spirit of organization. My friend Amye has come over and kept me on track. (She was one of the masterminds behind the surprise organization project.)

The day we came home, Jacob jumped right onto starting a business. He calls it "Big Brother for Hire." He will go to someone's house and play with the children while the parents do other things around the house. He'll play with them, prepare juice and simple snacks, help with simple crafts, start videos, even change wet diapers. He loves children and is great with them. He's very excited. He's always been an entrepreneur at heart.

I guess that's about all the news from the homefront. It won't be long until school starts - August 11th. I wonder if it will be hard for the kids to go back and face their friends, or if they will welcome the return of that routine. I don't know how many of their friends know about Gerry's death.

As for me, I am struck daily by the overwhelming ache for the one thing I can never have. I want Gerry back, with our plans, and dreams, and whole life ahead of us like it was a little over two years ago.

Love and blessings,
Laura

Friday, July 16, 2004 12:41 AM CDT

Hello, friends and family,

We're still in Orlando, showing the kids a good time. Jacob is beginning to be a little more adventurous and is riding some of the tame rides. Zak is with me on all the thrill rides. I can't believe how he has changed in the last few years. He would never have done this 2 years ago. Patrick fall somewhere in between - occasionally more adventurous than Jacob, but not ready for the bigtime yet.

To all of you who are wondering, yes, it's incredibly hard to be here doing these things without Gerry. I miss him every second. I'd never even heard of NAM or this NAM convention before Gerry and I were together. But I miss Gerry every second no matter where I am. Everything is hard without him. The very act of taking a breath knowing that he's gone forever is itself excruciating. Maybe I'll eventually grow accustomed to the pain.

Our friends here at the convention have been very nice. Many who had not seen us since Gerry died have come to us to express condolences, but have generally left the kids out of it (which is good) and have left it at "We're so sorry. We're praying for you." I was a little apprehensive about the kids going through another round of condolences a month later, but people are leaving them alone.

I am operating on my usual small amount of sleep, although I was able to sleep late this morning since we had a luncheon meeting and didn't hit the parks at our customary early hour. We've been rising at 6:15 to be there when the parks open, and sometimes stay for the closing fireworks before coming home, after which I sometimes go hang out with John Paul and Giddie downstairs for a while. When I come up, I do usually have an hour to two hours of reading and planning yet to complete for the next day. Then I sleep.

We've probably walked at least 20 miles each already, in heat indices of around 100 degrees Farenheit. (At least) We're all dripping by the end of the first hour. The kids are holding up well. I think they are having a blast, despite the fact that this trip is challenging everyone's endurance.

I'll try to write again soon. Right now, my kids are ready to GO! We're off to the Magic Kingdom.

Love and blessings,
Laura

Wednesday, July 14, 2004 6:56 PM CDT

Hi, everyone!

We are in Orlando, at our annual church convention. It is very hot, but we are having a good time anyway.

I know it's been a long time since I've posted, and this will be brief, since the internet service through the hotel is probably $50 a second. Sorry.

I hope to post again soon with more details. Right now, we're off to a dinner function and then I'm going to get my kids in bed early.

Love and blessings,
Laura

Sunday, July 4, 2004 10:43 PM CDT

Good evening, friends and family.

First: Old Business.
The scholarship website is now up and running, for anyone who wants to contribute electronically. The address is listed above, in the intro of this website. (It's www.KimesFund.com)

Also, I am still actively seeking memories, stories, impressions of Gerry, from all aspects of his life. Please email these to me at lrkimes@earthlink.net

Ok: New Business.
The boys are all home from camp now, safe and sound. Nobody is sunburned, nor has poison ivy, nor has any illness or injury related to camp. They all had a fantastic time.

Today, we went to the lake to Gerry's grandparents' house for the Fourth. That's where we go for Thanksgiving, for Christmas, for lots of what I call "barbecue holidays" such as Labor Day and the 4th of July, for random visits, and where I have a trillion memories spread over 18 years of going there. That's also where, two years ago today, Gerry had his first headache - the beginning of the end.

It was strange in some ways to be there today. There were ghosts of visits past around every corner. Do you want to know what struck me the most, though? Two things, really. There is a new TV, a very nice flat screen deal, in the downstairs den. Gerry would have totally loved that, and I don't think he ever even saw it. Cool new technology was right up his alley.

The other thing was something else he was missing. While at camp, Zak began learning how to "kneeboard." He was excited about it, and wanted to learn more, so we acquired one, (thank you, Sittie,) and took it to the lake with us. Zak got out there today and was amazing. He was brave, and persistent, and coordinated, and had a wonderful time. Gerry would have been surprised and enormously proud. Zak has always been cautious, but he wasn't today.

Patrick is wanting to learn to waterski now. His cousin and godfather, Doug, kindly volunteered to help him learn with the training skis. Patrick decided to wait until another day, but Zak tried a few times.

Those are the very same training skis on which Doug himself learned to ski. I remember it. Gerry drove the boat, I was spotter, and Doug's dad was in the water with him, trying to help him up. It should be Gerry helping our boys learn these things, and that part makes me sad, but it was so sweet and fitting that Doug jumped in to help.

Another thing I realized today is how much Gerry has taught me over the years, about all sorts of things. From how to tie off the boat at the dock to who has the right of way on the water to how to cut across the waves and not capsize, I learned it all from Gerry. That was one of the best things about our relationship. We each had our areas of expertise, so there was a definite division of mental labor. I suspect he bore the lion's share of knowledge and expertise, though. He was always great at figuring things out, especially how something worked. I always let him do that for me. Maybe it was mental sloth, or maybe it was just efficient use of our collective brain trust.

What I'm discovering now, though, is that when faced with something that would have been Gerry's "area," I am now often able to close my eyes, or concentrate for a second, and recall how Gerry would have approached the situation. That has happened to me a couple of times lately, and I have been thankful to him each time. I'm thankful that not only did he outright teach me plenty of things, but he also modeled how he solved problems and figured things out. In essence, he taught me how to think like he did, and that is quite a skill to try to master. My husband was a brilliant man and very analytical thinker. I'll never be able to truly think like he did, but I'm grateful to be able to muster a poor imitation. It helps me these days.

"My husband was..."
"Gerry used to..."
"Daddy loved..."

All the past tense - I'm still not used to it. I slip occasionally, and my children often correct me. Especially Patrick. Whoever says a six year old can't understand death is smoking crack. Patrick understands plenty.
Unfortunately.

Tonight we watched the fireworks downtown. We listened to patriotic music. We enjoyed it. We missed Ger. I guess we can check off another holiday without him.

It would be nice to know that there were a finite number of tears to be shed, or a finite number of total meltdowns to have, or a finite number of times something seemingly insignificant could ambush me before I felt better. At least then I could mark them off, one by one, getting ever closer to the light at the end of the tunnel. I'm a list maker by nature, anyway, so that would suit me perfectly. But, alas, there is no such number. The grief is infinite, and it's here to stay.

"It gets better. Time heals all wounds. The first year's the hardest. Your memories will sustain you. The way you're feeling is normal. Grieving is a process."

They're all cliches. Grief, I think, is very individual. It fits no mold, nor preconcieved notion of certain measurable steps or stages. It has no set time frame. There is no right nor wrong way to work through it. Grief just is. Grief is pain, it is sadness, it's loss, it's darkness, it's absence, it's tears, it's numbness, it's apathy, it's sleepiness, it's sleeplessness. It is all those things and more, or less, or different things, depending on who you are and what your situation is. Grief can't be measured or controlled. Grief just is whatever it is.

I am a young, grieving widow. I have a million questions about how to be a young, grieving widow, and there are no right answers. I just have to figure it all out by myself.

Meanwhile, I'm still a mom, and a daughter, and a friend, and all of those things keep on rolling. We leave Sunday for a week in Orlando. So this week, I'm a mom/vacation planner. I have a garage full of smelly camp laundry to do, and about 50 websites to navigate to plan a Disney vacation that won't leave us exhausted and frustrated. I have a very smelly dog and two aging cats whose care I must coordinate for the time we're gone. I still have a bunch of paperwork to finish to complete my conversion from "married" to "widowed." It's a busy life, and I, as always, keep on muddling through it.

Thanks for muddling with me.

Love and blessings,
Laura

Tuesday, June 29, 2004 6:31 PM CDT

***New! Check out the camp photos!***

Hello, friends and family.

Lots of people have asked how the big camp drop-off went, and how the kids are doing there.

Drop-off was great. They were basically ready for us to get lost as soon as we got them to their cabins and helped them put sheets on their bunks. Sittie and Giddie went with me to take them, which was especially great since I didn't know where I was going.

Since I've gotten no phone calls from children wailing to come home, nor from camp directors telling me someone has a huge rash, or broken arm, or irreparably bad attitude, I must assume that they are doing well. Further evidence that they're having fun is that I saw on the camp website today some great photos of my children having fun at camp. There is a secure website for parents to view photos that are uploaded daily - it's wonderful. There is a really cute one of Patrick on horseback - all toothless grin and pride. There's one of Zak with his whole cabin, and he's arm in arm with his counselor. There are a couple of Jacob happily doing arts and crafts, and hanging out with buddies.

The most compelling evidence that Patrick is having fun came today, though. I am supposed to go retrieve Patrick tomorrow, because 6 year olds only stay for a half week as an intro to camp. Today I got a letter from him in the mail. It was one line, and he didn't sign it, but I knew it was from him by the handwriting and the spelling. It said simply, "Do Not pick me up"

I laughed out loud. He's obviously having a blast. I can't wait to hear all about it, and I'm sure I will, as soon as he gets in the car tomorrow.

Meanwhile, back at the home front, I miss them an appropriate amount, but I'm not sitting and pining. I know they are happy and safe, so I'm enjoying reconnecting with some friends while I have the chance. I'm also trying to get my brain wrapped around the fact that we are leaving in a little over a week for Disney, Epcot, Seaworld, etc. in Orlando. I am nowhere near ready for that!

I'm also trying to tie up loose ends in the paperwork department of my life and Gerry's death. All things hinge on the death certificate, though, which is currently missing in action. It's been almost three weeks, and nobody seems to know why it isn't here or where it is. I'm working on it.

Today, someone wrote to me, hoping that things were getting just a little easier every day. While I very much appreciate the thought, for the record, they're not. Things suck, and according to the forecast, will continue to suck for the duration of the foreseeable future. I am already thoroughly tired of feeling the way I do, and I know that I've only just begun to feel devastated. Last night, I went to the movies with friends. There was a preview for a movie that I know Gerry would have wanted to see. It struck me that he'd never see it. Stupid things like that ambush me all the time. There will be a million large and small "firsts" without him, there will be a million things that remind me constantly of how much I miss him and how much our family has lost.

There is no end to the grief awaiting me, and no short-cut around it. I just have to muddle through it, day by day, sometimes breath by breath, in the faint hope that someday, far into the future which right now holds no appeal, I will feel ever so slightly less desolate.

Meanwhile, keeping me grounded is the fact that I have three small people living in my house who still need their Cheerios in the mornings, and so I tumble out of bed and put one foot in front of the other. For them only.

Love and blessings,
Laura

Wednesday, June 23, 2004 10:51 PM CDT

Hello, friends and family.

I never really know what I'm going to write until I start typing. Whatever comes, comes.

I can't believe it's been two weeks. I still look at Gerry's photo somewhere and I can't believe he's really gone forever.

This morning, there was an 8am Mass for Gerry. I've known since last weekend. I fully intended to go, and to take the boys. I totally flaked. When I realized it some hours later, I was so angry with myself! I really wanted to go, and I can't believe I missed it. I slept right through it, never having set an alarm, because as of last night I had forgotten all about it.

I think my brain left me when my heart did, two weeks ago. It must have been a package deal. Here's another example. I had to call my sweet friend Michael today. I remembered that I had spoken with him by phone yesterday, and I remembered the first two sentences of the conversation, but nothing more. I had to call him to ask him what was said, and if we had set up any appointments or get-togethers, because I could remember nothing more of the conversation. Michael is Zak's drum teacher, so usually when we talk on the phone, it's to set up the next lesson after we chat. I didn't want to flake on that, too, so I had to call.

I felt ridiculous. It's totally unlike me to be so out of it. When Gerry was sick and requiring so much full time care, each day was pretty much the same. I used all my mental energy to stay awake and to manage his care and his meds. I guess I've used all of my reserves, because I sure seem to be running on empty now. I have to get back into the habit of living out of my organizer, I guess.

In getting the kids ready to go to camp, Gerry's dad got his and Paul's old trunks down from the attic. That's what they used to pack for camp. Gerry's was full of memorabilia, mostly from our high school years. It was fun to see some of those things again:

*His senior uniform shirt - seniors could wear yellow golf shirts while the rest of us were stuck with green or white
*A shirt he had signed by a bunch of friends when he was graduating - my message took up most of his back
*Old Camp Cosby C.I.T. manuals and photos
*Lots of notes and cards from me
*A bunch of old newspapers from our high school

In one of the newspapers, someone was asking the juniors (my class at the time,) where they though they'd be in ten years. My friend Ben was the first to answer, saying that he'd be in his last year of med school. He's a trauma surgeon now. I was asked also, and the 34 year old me loved my 17 year old answer. I said I'd be "married to Gerry, own my own business, have approximately 1.5 children, and be ecstatically happy." Every bit of it was absolutely true, except that in 1997 I had approximately 2.5 children. Life was good then.

I miss Gerry all the time. I especially miss him when I need to carry a sleeping child off to bed. I miss him when his stupid dog wants out at 2 in the morning. I miss him when something funny or interesting or sad or scary happens, and I want to share it with him the most. I miss him when I see his handwriting on something. I miss him when I look at our boys, and know all that they will miss, and lament the ways this experience will forever change them. I miss him when I cry, and grieve, and want so much for him to put his big arms around me and hold me tight. Probably the worst bitter irony for me is not having him to share this terrible experience with me. We're supposed to share everything, forever. That's what all those sweet, young, sappy love notes said.

I hope everyone has some little stash of sweet cards or notes. Don't throw everything away, thinking that it's just clutter, and that there will be an endless stream of those things forever. There may not be.

Love and blessings,
Laura

Monday, June 21, 2004 1:35 AM CDT

Hello, everyone.

I know it's been a while since I posted, but it is late tonight as I begin, and I'm trying hard to turn over a new sleeping leaf, so I will try (probably in vain) to be brief. I'm already behind - that sentence was certainly not brief!

So, our first Father's Day without Ger...

The first order of business was to go to church for Gerry's 9 day memorial Mass. (Yes, it's been 11 days, don't get too picky. There's obviously some fudge room.) The boys had not been back to church since the funeral because they needed some time and space from everyone "consoling" them. The Mass went well, and the boys were not mobbed, nor were they terribly uncomfortable. They stopped right inside the door and lit candles and said prayers for Gerry, which could have easily unglued me right from the start, but I held my act together.

I had asked the boys what they wanted to do about Father's Day, offering a few suggestions, ranging from pretending it didn't exist to going to the cemetery. Zak really wanted to go to the cemetery, but Jacob and Patrick didn't. That was fine. What Zak and I had in mind was to make cards or drawings for Gerry, go and say some prayers for him, and then burn our cards and let the smoke take them to Heaven for us. That appealed to all the boys, so they all made cards and Zak and I took them. It was very nice.

I sent the other two boys on ahead to a family breakfast. They asked if we'd burned their cards, we replied that we had, and they seemed perfectly satisfied with that. They did not want to get/make and then have to sign a bunch of cards for grandfathers, uncles, and godfathers as we normally would. I guess that was a little too much emphasis on the occasion for them. So, I hope all of those very important and special men in our lives will just understand this time. Catch y'all next year.

The rest of the day was fairly low key. Kristin and Alan and their girls returned to Atlanta. Paul began his return to Detroit. I plan to spend the week getting my boys ready for their very first trip to summer camp, which has been planned all summer. They still want to go very much. In fact, without ever even having been yet, they're beginning to ask to stay longer! They will be going to the same summer camp that Gerry and Paul attended as boys. That's very bittersweet. I wish so much that Gerry could show them around, but I know that he will be very present there with them. It was one of his favorite places.

This evening, I saw something that was a sweet message from Gerry to me, that he was thinking of me and of a special memory we have together. It was nice.

I find myself perpetually exhausted right now. I had put my tiredness on hold for so long, that I think it will just take a while to all work out. I am allowing myself all summer to try to get my sleeping habits back on track. I can seem to sleep at normal times for a day or so, and then I'm back to being up at this hour. It'll straighten out eventually...

Speaking of which, I need to go to sleep. Somehow, we are finding the resources to muddle our way through this one breath at time. Thanks for keeping on checking on us and praying for us. We still need it.

Love and blessings,
Laura

Wednesday, June 16, 2004 0:14 AM CDT

Hello, everyone.

I made it through our anniversary the way I make it through everything, I guess. I just put one foot in front of the other. Not that I didn't have a huge meltdown last night, and consequently woke up with a huge headache this morning. What usually gets me, though, isn't my own stuff. It's when my kids melt down.

Zak burst forth with a wail of "I want him back!" last night at bedtime, and that completely unglued me. I got him calmed and asleep, but my night was downhill from there. Kristin sat with me through my grief. She's so good at that, probably because she's borne her fair share already, having lost both parents. She isn't afraid of my suffering.

There are so many little snippets from recent days that are worth sharing. There's no real cohesion to any of it, save the common thread of the loss of Gerry.

One sweet friend shared with me that when she told her 6 year old, who had prayed faithfully for Gerry, that he'd died, the little girl replied, "Does that mean I can call him Saint Gerry now?" (Ger is having a good laugh about THAT one!)

When I was standing over his casket, looking at him for the very last time, and trying to pray for him, there was his voice, clear as a bell in my head, making a joke.

Old friends I had not seen in 10 years or more gathered at my house after the funeral to look at photos and share stories with me and the boys. It was sadly beautiful.

Friday morning, Zak came and told me that Daddy had come to lay down with him the night before. He said his dad rubbed his back and touched his hair (like he'd done hundreds of nights before). Zak said, "I'm not making it up, Mommy, I promise." I told him I fully and truly believed him, and that I know his dad was trying to tell him that He would always be with us.

There is an image burned into my brain from the funeral. I'm sitting in the front pew on the right side of the church. I'm on the end, right next to Gerry's coffin, which Paul chose and which was exactly what it should have been. It's covered with the most simple flowers available -white roses and greenery - no baby's breath, which Ger always thought was silly. The smell of the roses mingle with the scent of the incense. I'm looking across the coffin to the opposite side of the altar, where Father John Paul stands to give a homily that at once preaches the message of the gospel and pays tribute to his brother. It was a peaceful, beautiful moment in time.

What follows is the gospel reading we chose, and then Paul's homily.


Gospel Jn 11: 20-27

When Martha heard that Jesus was coming, she went to meet him; but Mary sat at home. Martha said to Jesus, “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died. But even now I know that whatever you ask of God, God will give you.” Jesus said to her, “Your brother will rise.” Martha said to him, “I know he will rise, in the resurrection on the last day.” Jesus told her, “I am the resurrection and the life; whoever believes in me even if he dies, will live, and everyone who lives and believes in me will never die. Do you believe this?” She said to him, “Yes, Lord, I have come to believe that you are the Messiah, the Son of God, the one who is coming into the world.”



The homily John Paul delivered at Gerry’s funeral:

To be honest, I don’t know where to begin. So, today, I begin like Martha – ‘Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.’ Lord, if you had bothered to listen to my prayers, our prayers, Gerry would be sitting at work right now and the rest of us would be somewhere else, going about our normal lives. God, if you were just or merciful or loving, none of us would be here and we would all be much happier. Only a sadistic, merciless, hateful, vengeful God would take a healthy 33 year old husband and father of three young boys and give him a terrible disease and only two years to live, taking him from his wife and children. Only a sick, perverse God would rob my parents of their firstborn, my grandparents of their eldest grandson and me of my only brother. What kind of God would let this happen? Like Martha, this is where I begin today. But, like Martha, I know that my God is not sadistic or hateful, vengeful or merciless. I have to believe, I have to hope, that my God is good and loving, kind and merciful and that this is all a part of his plan, his will.

Laura, so often in the past two years, has described Gerry’s illness as a journey, a walk. How many times has she spoken of those heroic friends who have shared in this walk; of our loving family taking every pain-filled, teary-eyed step on this path none of us ever imagined we would be asked to walk; of the numberless strangers who have prayed that this cup pass from Gerry, if it be God’s will.

The Maronite Church also uses this image of journey to describe death. Gerry’s journey is not yet over. In the poetry of our tradition, Gerry’s soul continues its journey. Now he must cross the Nahr Naar, the River of Fire. What a powerful, frightening image. A river of flames burning intensely, eternally, waiting to consume souls – a powerful furnace whose flames burn white hot to purify the soul of every stain of sin, so that it may be made worthy of the perfection of heaven. But, in this frightening image, the souls of the faithful stand at peace because, there is a bridge across this river. The bridge which stands over the river of fire is Christ himself. The pillars which support this bridge are the Eucharist, Jesus’ living body and blood which gives life to our souls and bodies. Our faith, Gerry’s faith, teaches us that the Eucharist is the food for our souls on our journey in life, through death, into eternal life. The priest prays every time he distributes the precious body and blood of Christ that it be for the forgiveness of sins and eternal life for those who receive it.

As Gerry stands on the bridge of his faith, his soul waits for us to accompany him. As we walked hand in hand with him for the 35 short years of his journey on earth, now our prayers accompany him. We pray for Gerry now, as he walks the way to eternal life, so that when he reaches the heavenly mansions of light, his prayers may accompany us on our journey.

There is a beautiful hymn we will pray at the cemetery, which captures our faith. The hymn is one sung by Gerry’s soul which cries out to us, “My brothers and sisters, come, assemble, and give me peace that I may go in peace.” And we respond, “Gerry, our brother, go and be at peace.” And with confidence in the resurrection, Gerry’s soul cries back to us, “My brothers and sisters, be at peace, for I am now at peace and will be forever more.”

There is so much more I want to say, as a brother, who wants to relive every moment of my brother’s earthly life so that everyone can know what an incredible man he was. As a priest, who wants to echo the preaching of St Paul to the Thessalonians, reminding them that if we believe Christ died and rose, then we too will be raised with him, that Gerry who fell asleep believing in Christ, will rise with him. I didn’t know where to begin, and I don’t know where to end.

I began in anger, confusion and frustration and cried out with Martha, “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.” So we should all end in love, confidence and hope and cry out again with Martha, ‘Yes, Lord. I believe that you are the Messiah, the Son of the Living God. I know my brother will rise.’

***********************************************************

Love and blessings,
Laura

Sunday, June 13, 2004 2:49 AM CDT

Dear friends and family,

I truly have no words to convey my gratitude for all the kindness, love, and support that has been given to us during these past few days. I read the messages on this site and am astounded that so many have followed our journey.

On Thursday night, we had Gerry's visitation, wake, and Rosary. As we stood in the front of our church, speaking with all of the people who had come to pay their respects and show their love, we began to get word of how many people were still waiting in line to speak with us. At one point, when we had been receiving visitors for about an hour, Zak looked back at the line, which was still all the way out the door, with no end in sight. He turned back to me and asked, "Mommy, is it infinite?" I smiled and said, "The love people have for your dad? Yes. Absolutely."

The service was delayed because the visitation was not over. The outpouring of love and support, respect and admiration for Gerry was truly humbling.

Friday was the day of Gerry's funeral. In the midst of our tragic loss, Gerry's brother, John Paul, has been amazing. Over the last week, he has made all of the arrangements almost single-handedly, freeing me to help my children, and sparing his parents this horrible task. He handled everything with grace and strength, and with his brother's wishes and my own foremost in his mind at all times. Everything Paul arranged was absloutely perfect and in complete accordance with what Gerry would have wanted. He honored his brother and our entire family in everything he did, most especially in the Liturgy he celebrated for Gerry's funeral.

Through the grace of God, Paul managed to say the most difficult Mass of his life. Every movement he made was filled with truth and sincerity, and his absolute belief in the Holy Eucharist, the Resurrection, and his own calling to the priesthood. With a heart that was clearly laden with a staggering mix of sorrow and hope, Paul delivered the most sincere and powerful homily I have ever heard. It could not have been more perfectly appropriate, and my heart burst with pride and sadness to see this younger brother find his way through his grief and anger to the message of hope in the Gospel. I know Gerry must have wept with admiration and gratitude for the way Paul glorified God through this journey's end.

My children did attend all parts of Gerry's services, including going to the cemetery. I think it was good for them to get that closure. They are so very sad and still somewhat dazed by all that has happened, but they are also able to have laughter each day. We talk about Gerry constantly, and have had lots of old friends around recently to tell fun stories they've never heard about their dad. I want them to know he's still very much alive within us, and that won't change.

That brings me to a request. Gerry was only on this earth for 35 years. I only had the pleasure of knowing him for 18 of those, and the immeasurable joy of being his wife for almost 12. My children, however, have only known their dad for 10, 8, and 6 years, and for a good portion of that time, he has had a brain tumor. I have a million little stories and anecdotes to tell them about Gerry, but that's just my perspective. What I would love more than anything, is to make a book for my boys of all the memories and stories that others have of their dad. I want them to be able to grow to understand more about who he was and why the line of people to show their love for him was so long.

So, if you knew Gerry, as a child, as a student, as a business contact, as a friend, as a cousin, as a fleeting acquaintance, I am asking you to write a memory, or an impression, or an anecdote about Gerry so that I may make it part of a legacy for our sons. It can be long or short, and if you can't pick a favorite story, send several. Every single memory we can gather of him will be precious to my children, not only now, but especially as they grow into men. Gerry can still teach them by example, if you all help me to show them different aspects of the amazing husband and father I knew. You can send all of these to me at my email address, which is lrkimes@earthlink.net

It is exceedingly late now, and I really must begin to try to get back onto some sort of normal sleep schedule, so I will stop writing for now. I have plenty more to say, and will write again the next time I find a quiet moment. Thank you all, again and again, for sharing my journey and my burden.

Love and blessings,
Laura


** As Laura mentioned before, we have established a scholarship fund to take care of the boys' educational needs. This fund will serve as a general account for any donations to the family. In lieu of flowers, help us to honor Gerry's memory by caring for the boys. Donations can be sent to

The Kimes Scholarship Fund
c/o Kassouf and Company
2208 University Blvd
Birmingham, AL 35233

In the very near future a Pay Pal page will be linked to this site, for anyone who would like to make donations through the internet.

For the past two years, you have overwhelmed Gerry, Laura the boys and our entire family with your amazing support through countless hours of prayer, endless acts of generosity and untold kindness and love. Please know that you have been, are and will be always in our prayers.

John Paul Kimes

Wednesday, June 9, 2004 2:28 PM CDT

** If you have previously viewed this page, please go to the bottom of the page for information on how to donate to the Kimes Scholarship Fund.**

Hello, friends and family.

This is the entry I've dreaded for almost two years now. I've written and rewritten it a dozen times in my head over the last few months, and it's never right. This whole situation is not right.

This morning, at about 7:10 am, Gerry's struggles finally ended. He'd had a very rough night, with fluid building up in his lungs and a fever that was 103 degrees by this morning. I knew all night that it wouldn't be much longer, but I wasn't sure if that meant minutes or hours. By early this morning, I felt fairly certain that it would be today. I even mentally figured out the date and tried it on for size. June 9, 2004. Our wedding anniversary is this Monday, June 14th - twelve years.

It was a very peaceful passing this morning, with the early morning sun streaming through the stained glass window in our den, bathing Gerry in a golden glow. His mother and an aunt were on one side of him, and I on the other. We were all calmly touching him and telling him we loved him and we were here with him. I'd been telling him for days, "I'm here with you. I won't leave you. I'll be here with you." I kept my promise to him as we watched him leave us and go Home.

I sent Gerry's aunt upstairs to get Zak and Jacob out of bed immediately. They had said they wanted to be with Gerry when he died, but it happened very fast, so I sent for them right away. Patrick, who had told me he didn't want to be here, was spending the night with a friend.

Jacob and Zak came downstairs asking what was going on. I told them it was time to say goodbye to Daddy now, and they did. They told him they loved him, and we all stood quietly crying and talking to him and about him for a few minutes. It really was a beautiful way to go, and I'm sure Gerry felt our love as he died.

I went to Patrick's friend's house, crawled into bed with him, and told him. He cried, and we talked just a little before he didn't want to talk about it anymore. At first he didn't want to come home, which was fine, but he changed his mind and did come. He eventually went into the den, sat right down by Gerry's face, and looked at him. I think it was good for him to get that closure, especially since it was on his own terms.

The arrangements are:

The visitation will be at 7:00 pm tomorrow night, (Thursday, June 10,) at St. Elias Church, a Rosary to follow at 8:30.

The Divine Liturgy for Gerry's funeral will be on Friday, at 10:00 am, also at St. Elias Church.

In lieu of flowers, donations may be made to a scholarship fund, and those details will be on this site within the next 12 hours or so. Please keep checking.

I cannot thank you all enough for all of your thoughts, prayers, kind words, and help during our battle with this heartbreaking disease. You all have uplifted us more times and in more ways than I can express. I anticipate that I will keep making entries for at least a little while, as I work through my grief. I would be honored if some of you kept reading and responding. This site has been a blessing and a ministry to me.

While I am absolutely devastated by our loss, and feel that my very heart left me this morning, I am so glad for my sweet Gerry to finally be free.

Love and blessings,
Laura


** As Laura mentioned above, we have established a scholarship fund to take care of the boys' educational needs. This fund will serve as a general account for any donations to the family. In lieu of flowers, help us to honor Gerry's memory by caring for the boys. Donations can be sent to

The Kimes Scholarship Fund
c/o Kassouf and Company
2208 University Blvd
Birmingham, AL 35233

In the very near future a Pay Pal page will be linked to this site, for anyone who would like to make donations through the internet.

For the past two years, you have overwhelmed Gerry, Laura the boys and our entire family with your amazing support through countless hours of prayer, endless acts of generosity and untold kindness and love. Please know that you have been, are and will be always in our prayers.

John Paul Kimes

Tuesday, June 8, 2004 2:15 AM CDT

Hello, friends and family.

I got on the computer to do some long neglected internet banking, and, as luck would have it, 2:00 am is when the bank does its system maintenance. So, I'll update instead, which I intended to do after the bank. (I sound like I'm running errands in cyberspace. Next stop on the information superhighway, the bank...)

Sorry, it's late and I ramble...

We've been home now since Friday. Gerry has seemed more settled and calm in general since we've been home. I'm pretty sure that on some level, he can tell we're home. We always have plenty going on around here now. There are visitors and hospice nurses and the kids and the normal sounds of cooking and watching TV - plenty to tell Gerry that we're home.

We stay up with him at night in teams of two. That way, if he spits up and needs suction or has a seizure, there are two of us to handle the situation. So right now I'm on the first shift with my brother in law (I really think I'm ready to drop the "in law" part), Paul, and our shift will end at 3:00 am when we wake Gerry's parents for their shift. They are currently upstairs asleep in my bed. There are others who take shifts, but for the past two nights, that's been the arrangement.

Every other hour, there is something to do for Gerry. Often, we're dispensing medicine, or sometimes just his water. Everything goes through his feeding tube, with the exception of pain medication. The schedule is so complicated that we've made a chart, which really impressed the hospice people for some reason. How in the world would we keep up with it all otherwise?! Doesn't everyone make a chart?

On Saturday night, I told the boys that the tumor was growing again. Zak immediately asked why we were home if that was the case. I told him there was nothing further to be done but keep Daddy comfortable. Jacob asked, "Then what's going to happen?" Zak insisted that Daddy would get better. I told them that we expect that Daddy is going to die soon. I told them the nurses would come in regularly to help us keep Daddy comfortable. Patrick asked if he was going to have a step-dad. I explained that it wasn't like running to Walmart to pick one up, and that it would take someone incredibly wonderful and amazing to be worthy of the three of them, so I just don't know if that person would be out there for us.

Patrick cried and crawled into my lap. Zak asked if he had shot cans off the deck with a b.b. gun with his dad for the last time. I told him yes. He talked about the plans he had for this summer with his dad, and I said I had a million plans with Dad that were gone, too. Patrick said, "I need a dad!" Jacob asked, "Who's gonna teach us to shoot a b.b. gun, and all those kinds of things?" I reminded them that Giddie taught Daddy, and that they have wonderful men in their lives who will help with all of that. There was more discussion, and more tears. At one point, Patrick asked if we could put all of Daddy's pictures away after he died so that we wouldn't see them and be sad.

I think that Impossibly-Gut-Wrenching-Conversation-With-My-Children #263 went as well as it could have. Somehow, God always seems to grace me with the words to say to them at those times. People ask me every day how the kids are doing. I think they are doing ok. We have a strong faith and a strong family and a love that is a tangible force, so we will get through this.

As hard as it is to experience my own loss, it's my children's loss which is greater. I know Gerry. I fully realize and understand the depth and strength of his character, the eloquence of his wit, the scope of his intellect, the beauty of his generosity and love. My children have only begun to scratch the surface of their understanding of him, and they are losing their chance to discover those things first hand. They will have to rely on me and the countless others who know and love Gerry to paint that picture for them. I will go to my grave trying to do him justice, but I know I will forever fall short, and it breaks my heart for them.

As I watch Gerry struggle on, I view it as one final gift he is giving our boys. He's showing them what true courage is. He's showing them how far a person can go to fight for something worthwhile. His life is absolutely worth the fight, and he always promised never to give up, and I believe he's honoring that promise. What an example to our boys. When he does go to his final home, it will be because his body gave out, not because he ever gave up.

Love and blessings,
Laura

Friday, June 4, 2004 11:32 PM CDT

Hello, everyone.
Thank you for all of your messages of support and prayer. It does help to read them and feel the love coming our way.

We actually came home today, Friday, just after lunch. I had things sped up because I got a little nervous about getting out of there. It just seemed that the longer we stayed, and the more every little detail of his body was examined, the more likely it was becoming that problem after problem would just keep surfacing and make us more and more nervous to go home with him. I wanted no delays, so I requested that we move up our departure, and everyone at the hospital and with Hospice was very cooperative and got us home quickly.

Gerry has been sleeping the entire time we've been home. He's only barely responsive to major stimuli, so I'm not really even sure he knows we're home, although we've told him. The boys have been home to see us, but they went to a baseball game tonight and then back home with the Ritcheys. They are going to a birthday party tomorrow, and then they will come home. Sometime tomorrow after they are home and settled, I will talk to them about the MRI and what to expect over this next period of time.

I think that being at home with Gerry for at least a few days will help the boys be able to let go, or at least that's my hope. I hope that they will come to realize in a very tangible way that this is no longer where Gerry belongs, and that none of wants this for him. I hope they can feel that way, too, and really know that he is going to be better off with God. Children can be so pure and innocent and trusting - although this will be absolutely heart wrenching, they may be better able to accept this than we think.

I bounce between completely devastated and numb. After two years of knowing the odds, and 6 months of progressively more grueling battle, I still can't believe this is happening to us. It is too surreal, too wrong. Gerry and I had the closest thing possible to the perfect relationship, the perfect union. We truly are two halves of the same whole, and I am not me without him. The last time I was without him, I was 14 years old. I feel like anyone who meets me and gets to know me now doesn't really know the real me. She's not here anymore.

Then sometimes I'm numb, and I'm outside of myself, watching someone else wander through a bizarre and twisted life. That doesn't feel right, either. Falling completely apart isn't me. Nothing really is. Nothing's right. Sometimes, I have to just consciously let go, trust, rest. Somewhere deep (deep, deep) inside, I know that things will eventually be ok again, even joyful. I know we can get through this, with lots of love and support and the grace of God. Meanwhile, it just totally and completely sucks.

Please continue to pray for us, and for a close friend of mine in the brain tumor world whose brain tumor is also growing again. Their family and medical team need much wisdom to navigate the next course of treatment.

Thank you for your love and prayers.
Love and blessings,
Laura

Wednesday, June 2, 2004 11:29 PM CDT

Good evening, friends and family.

I arrived home from Chattanooga yesterday evening, and came straight to the hospital. Gerry is about the same for now. He is opening his eyes more, but I don't know that he is actually seeing anything. Sometimes it looks like he has focused on my face for just a moment, but it's fleeting, and I don't know for sure whether he knows it's me.

His creatinine is 1.6, which is still coming down. His blood pressure is still staying up, which is bad. The fever is unremarkable, and there don't seem to be any other pressing medical issues right now.

All that being said, Gerry did have an MRI today. His last one was a little over two weeks ago, when we first came to UAB. At that point, the tumor was stable. A week ago Friday, when he had a CAT scan, there were no major changes there, either. Today, though, the MRI showed that the tumor is growing again.

There is no further treatment that wouldn't kill him. So, we are going home on Saturday to make him comfortable and wait for God's timing. We have known the odds all along, and Gerry and I said our "goodbyes" or whatever right in the beginning, back in July of '02. We found at that time that we had no regrets, and that we didn't feel the need to make any major changes in our life, our priorities, etc. We knew when the tumor regrew that more treatment could only try to buy us some more time. We have tried hard to make the best of that time in any way possible - all the way down to things as mundane as going to Cheeburger Cheeburger to take Ger to lunch.

Still, no matter how many times I hear that he's going to die, I never get used to the idea. That news just does not get any easier, no matter how many times I hear it.

All I have told my kids so far is that Daddy is coming home on Saturday. I will wait to tell them about the tumor until we are all home together again. If they need to melt down or fall apart, I want them home with me so that they feel completely comfortable to be exactly how they need to be.

Hospice will be helping us at home. Someone is coming tomorrow to talk to me about details - what equipment we need, etc. We are going to pare down to the minimum amount of medical equipment necessary to keep him comfortable. That will reduce the hassle factor for us, and also the fear factor for the kids. He will still have his feeding tube, through which he will get all of his nutrition, all of his water, and all of his meds.

He will not have any IV, but we will keep the PICC line so that if we ever need to give him IV pain medicine or something, we can easily do that. He will be on the same small amount of oxygen he is currently on. It makes it easier for him to breathe and stay comfortable. We'll be getting a hospital bed so that he can be propped upright to breathe easier. Details, details...

I guess I get lost in the details because those are easier to handle than the big picture. Gerry is beyond our reach, beyond medical help. I told him today that it's all between him and God. We will support him and be with him and love him, but that's all we can do.

Please pray for my children, for Gerry's peace, and for the rest of our family as we walk this final walk. I still pray for Gerry's healing, and I know that all things are possible with God, but I also know that He doesn't always give us the answers we want. It looks like God's will and my will don't coincide this time, and I must prepare for that.

Love and blessings,
Laura

Monday, May 31, 2004 11:36 PM CDT

Hello, friends and family.

I am still in Chattanooga, but I've been getting updates many times daily from Sittie and Giddie.

Gerry is still pretty stable. His creatinine level is now 1.8 - yahoo! Normal range for that is from .7 to 1.3, so he is approaching the normal range. I've been told that his normal may be a little higher now, because there could be some permanent amount of diminished function, but every tenth he comes down makes me happy.

His packed red blood cell count is falling again, so we are going to begin banking blood for him, a little at a time. (It expires.) Giddie and I will give the 2 units he will need for his next transfusion, and we will see where we need to go from there.

The docs are still working to get Gerry's blood pressure and pulse rate to come back down into a more normal range. They're working with the medications slowly, because the last thing anyone wants to do is to bring his blood pressure crashing down too low.

He is finishing up his antibiotics today and tomorrow, so we will have to wait and see what, if anything, happens once he's off them. These are the ones he was on for the original problems of aspiration pneumonia and the blood infection. I don't think the latest blood cultures, drawn Friday, have grown anything. That's good news.

I'm not sure if the goal of getting him home this week is still realistic. I don't think we'll know until Thursday or Friday. It's hard (and usually pointless) to think that far ahead, since things change so much daily. Case in point: we left home four weeks ago today to have an MRI and a clinic appointment, and Gerry hasn't been home since.

The boys and I have had a fabulous time together here in Chattanooga with the Ritcheys. I've enjoyed spending so much fun, silly time with my kids. I've also loved not being in charge and not making any major decisions. The boys have loved having me here. It's been therapeutic for all of us, although I have missed Gerry terribly. There have been many moments that have hit me hard that Gerry is supposed to be with us for this kind of stuff. My kids are feeling it, too. It's hard, but like I told Zak today, we have to consciously make the choice to put that sadness on a shelf until later, so that we can live in this moment and have fun. We can't let our sadness totally keep us from having moments of joy. It's hard to take control of our emotions like that, but if we don't, then we waste this precious time together.

I am going to sign off now and get some sleep. We grownups have spent way too many nights in a row sitting up talking half the night, only to get up in the morning and take off for another full day of sightseeing fun with 11 children. Today we went to the aquarium, to Ben and Jerry's for ice cream, to a special candy shop, we rode the incline railway up Lookout Mountain, and we swam in the pool. If I don't get some good sleep tonight, then I'm going to have a hard time staying awake on the drive home tomorrow. (Thank goodness for Starbucks!)

Love and blessings,
Laura

Friday, May 28, 2004 10:42 PM CDT

Hello, everyone.

Things are still looking fairly positive. Gerry's creatinine level (I did check that spelling with the docs,) is now 2.1 - yahoo! Other levels of various and sundry blood stuff are trending in the right directions, too.

The last I heard, they were checking to see if his fluids were balanced - he has been very dehydrated. They think he's about caught up, so they will be decreasing the amount of water he is getting through his IV, and be increasing the amount that he gets through his feeding tube, into his gut, like the rest of us. That is the preferable way to receive his fluids, not only because it moves us one step closer to home, but also because it is the better way for his body to absorb water without so much swelling. Today, even his eyes are very puffy, poor thing.

His blood pressure and pulse rate have been steadily rising, most likely because of all the fluids he's receiving and retaining. He will be getting a beta blocker to help bring his blood pressure down.

The blood cultures that were taken a couple of days ago, after Gerry spiked a couple of random fevers, are negative so far. That's good news, and means we don't think he has any other infections going on.

The overall game plan right now is that he will finish all of his antibiotics over the weekend, then we'll wait to see if his fever/infection comes back. If it does, then more cultures and possibly losing the PICC line will be the next steps. If he doesn't get fevers after the antibiotics have stopped, then the PICC is safe for now. Meanwhile, everyone will be working toward getting Gerry off the IV, off the continuous feed and back to bolus feeding through his tube, and watch for his kidney functions to continue to improve. As all of those issues are settled, we'll be watching for his level of consciousness to improve.

Currently, he sleeps all the time. That may or may not change much as his other medical issues are resolved. He will most likely have another MRI next Wednesday morning, to see if the tumor status has changed. Gerry will have no further chemo for the tumor - he is finished. Any more chemo would probably kill him at this point. But, if the tumor has grown, other decisions which may need to be made would be more easily made. If the tumor hasn't grown, we'll know that any other issues going on aren't tumor growth.

Our goal is to be able to get Gerry home at the end of next week so that our family can all be together again. My children are very ready to be at home again, and to have me at home with them. They have been away from home and from me (except for visits) for almost four weeks now. They have done amazingly well, but they are reaching their limits.

Right this very moment, I'm sitting in a hotel room in Chattanooga with my children and the Ritchey family. In fact, Jacob is reading over my shoulder as I write. I have come along on vacation with them, and I am so glad to have this time away to spend with my kids. I miss them. We all needed this trip. I debated it and considered it, and didn't commit until this morning. My kids didn't know I was even considering it until we left today. (I didn't want to risk disappointing them if Gerry became too unstable for me to go along.) All the docs told me to go, though, that Gerry is stable enough, hallelujah!

So, I will be getting my info by phone, but I will still update the site as I can. Mostly, though, I'll be having lots of fun with my kids and the Ritcheys until we get back on Tuesday.

Thanks for all your continued prayers.
Love and blessings,
Laura

Thursday, May 27, 2004 1:05 AM CDT

Hello, friends and family.

Glory to God! I prayed that He take from me the dialysis decision, and He did. Yesterday, the renal docs came in and said Gerry was not, in fact, a candidate for dialysis right now, and that it wouldn't help him. Furthermore, his kidney function was beginning to stabilize. God is good!

Then today, we were told that Gerry's kidney function has actually begun to improve, and that the renal guys are only going to follow him from afar. More good news!

Here come some techinical details - if you're bored, skim and skip! His creatinine level, (I hope I spelled that correctly,)which in a normal person is 1, had been creeping up. It peaked at 2.8, which is when the words dialysis and kidney failure came up. Today, it was 2.5, which is definitely moving in the right direction. Creatinine is something that the kidneys should clear from the blood, so when there are higher than normal levels of it in the blood, that tells us that the kidneys aren't cleaning the blood the way they should. So for you numbers junkies out there (of which I am definitely one,) I'll keep you apprised of the creatinine level as it continues to fall, I hope and pray. We're certainly not out of the woods yet, though.

There are some other things in the blood that the docs are watching, and those are all looking better, too. The transfusion seems to have helped turn things around a little. Gerry is less anemic - his hematocrit is 30. It was 24 before the transfusion, and a man's normal level begins at about 36, so he's much closer to where he should be. The better level of red blood cells (his hematocrit) is helping his body to keep more fluid in the blood vessels, where he needs it. Previously, a lot of it has been leaking into his tissues instead, which is called third spacing, and explains how he can be dehydrated and swollen with fluid at the same time. His fluid balance seems to be better now.

All that said, he has had a couple of fever spikes over the last two days, so another set of blood cultures is being done to try to figure out why. He could have another infection of some sort, or the same one. If it is the same one, the PICC line will have to go. I'm actually hoping for a UTI (urinary tract infection) from the catheter, so we can keep the PICC. I know that's a weird thing to want, but it's the lesser of the evils at this point.

His blood pressure and heart rate are also up. That is presumed to be because of the increased fluid level in his body. They're watching it closely.

He is still sleeping all the time, and is virtually unresponsive. I've seen one or two very small things today from him that may indicate he is beginning to come to the surface a little more. No one knows for sure how alert he may get if or when all of these other medical issues are solved. We will just have to wait and see.

Gerry is (has always been) in God's hands. We will support Gerry and try to help him all we can within reasonable limits from the outside, but it is between Gerry and God to show us how this is all going to play out. Gerry's will to fight and live combined with God's will for our lives will determine the outcome, so all the rest of us can do is make the best decisions we know how to make, pray a LOT, and trust. I'm trying to rest in my faith, have peace, nurture my children through this and lead them by my example, and be patient. God's timing is perfect, and His grace is sufficient, I'm told.

These days, I'm trying to spend a little more time away from the hospital with my children. They actually need my presence more than Gerry does right now. I can't be sure he even knows when I'm here. I do know that if he IS aware of my coming and going, then he is also 100% supportive of my leaving him some to take care of our children. He'd do anything for them. So, I'm not at the hospital all the time. If you're coming to visit and want to see me, too, it's a good idea to call first so we don't miss each other.

I guess that's all I can think to say right now. It's late; I'm starting to fade.

God bless you and thank you for your continued prayers.

Love and blessings,
Laura

Monday, May 24, 2004 11:51 PM CDT

Hello, friends and family.

Things have been relatively stable since Friday night's "big adventure." Gerry has had no further seizures, but he has basically been asleep since then.

His main problem now is his kidney function. His kidneys are not functioning well, and they are slowly getting worse. The doctors have been trying to reverse this trend in various ways. Today, we were told that he is not responding to those efforts. We must begin considering the possibility of dialysis for him.

When I first heard mention of dialysis, my knee-jerk reaction was negative. No way would I want to put Gerry through some long, drawn out, torturous procedure that may or may not help him. After it was explained to me further and in better detail this afternoon, I am willing to consider it further. Gerry's would be a one time dialysis, which would be less difficult than long term dialysis.

I have told him twice that if he is still fighting, then we are, too, but that if he needs to let go, that's ok. He hasn't let go. He doesn't seem to be quitting. So, I don't have the right to deny him something that may help him, as long as it is not torturous. I don't know yet. The decision doesn't have to be made right now, and it will take much further discussion with the various medical teams to make that decision. Incidentally, that's Impossible Decision Number 236.

Meanwhile, Gerry is anemic, which is bringing with it a host of its own problems, so tonight he is having a transfusion. That actually has a small chance of kicking his kidneys back into gear.

We are working on getting set up to direct donate for Gerry, just in case he needs more transfusions. Before you all run down to UAB, trust me, I will put out the all call on this site if and when we need some more donors for him. I know just where to come for that kind of help!

So for now, please pray for Gerry's kidneys to begin to recover before it's too late. We have come so far, and it just absolutely breaks my heart that we could get what we've been fighting for, namely tumor stability, and then some complication could take him out.

Also, pray for all who know and love him, because I know that I haven't cornered the market on heartbreak over Gerry's illness.

I pray that God blesses all of you and your loved ones - all who have prayed so faithfully for us and followed our progress. I pray that God abundantly blesses our medical teams, all the amazing doctors and nurses and techs who are helping us on M8 - the neuro wing.

Love and blessings,
Laura

Saturday, May 22, 2004 10:27 PM CDT

Hi friends and family,

I just spent quite a long time making an update, and then this computer crashed and ate it. So, I begin again. I just told Stacy I'm ready to throw this thing out the window, but I guess I should have it checked for viruses instead. I've tried to do the virus updates, but I can't get them to download - it just locks up. I fervently wish my favorite computer geek weren't completely incapacitated.

So anyway, a lot can change in a very short amount of time.

When last I left you, things were looking up. The lungs were clear, the blood infection seemed to be under control, Gerry was very awake, the speech therapist had come in and fed him ice chips, we had a plan to repeat the swallow test on Monday, and to probably go home early next week.

Then things began to unravel. We found out that Gerry is having kidney problems. That may be due to the antibiotic he's on for the blood infection, or due to the fact that he's dehydrated, or both. Ger is being pumped full of fluids, and his limbs are swelling, yet in his blood vessels, where it counts, he's dehydrated.

Also, Gerry's blood sugar has been running very high, so now he's being given insulin to keep it under control. It may be high because of the tube feedings, the steroids, the infection, or all of the above.

About 2:00 yesterday afternoon, Gerry began a funny breathing pattern. He'd hold his breath for a short while, and then he'd breathe very hard to catch up. After a few minutes of watching this, we called for the nurse, who called the doctor.

The doctor grew concerned and ordered a bunch more tests - bloodwork, urinalysis, a chest x-ray, and a renal (kidney) ultrasound. None of the tests shed any light on the subject, so everyone was just watching him.

I went home to pick up my boys, but they were about to go swimming with the Ritcheys, so I let them go. I had dinner with my parents. During dinner, I got a call from Giddie saying that Gerry'd had a seizure. It was time to give him his regular anti-seizure medicine, so that was given.

About an hour later, Gerry had another seizure. At that point, a different anti-seizure med was given to him. Eventually I picked up the boys and we went home to settle in for the night. I was keeping in touch by phone. We went home, watched some tv together, and began to crash. Patrick fell asleep on my bed, Jacob fell asleep on a chair, and Zak was still awake. I was literally turning out my light to go to sleep when the phone rang.

It was Giddie, saying that Gerry was in respiratory distress and his heart rate was very high, and I needed to come back to the hospital. I drove to UAB thinking that this may be Gerry's last night with us. I was trying to wrap my brain around that. I prayed that God save him if at all possible, that He give Gerry a peaceful passing if Ger had to go, and that He talk to me and help me make any decisions I needed to make.

When I walked into the room, everything was in full gear. The nurses and doctor were bustling around. Gerry was red on his face and chest, he was sweating, he was snorting and working very hard to breathe, even on 100xygen, his heart rate was very high, his blood pressure was high, and he was posturing, which is a certain funky way of holding his arms and legs rigid.

Ger's parents and I were not looking at each other much, because I think we were all afraid to see that "this is it" look in each other's eyes. Each of us needed to keep it together for a while longer.

After talking to the doctor for a few minutes, she said she was really worried that this was a brain problem. Another possibility was that it was a metabolic issue, since his kidney functions were known to be decreased. Because of the posturing, though, she was very worried about a tumor event, so she ordered a CAT scan. She also oredered bloodwork and an EKG. There was a great deal of concern with his heart rate so high that he would go into cardiac arrest. We were told it was likely they'd put him in the neuro-ICU. I said that if he went, I was staying with him. The doc said, "They have visiting hours." I said, "No, if he's dying tonight, I'm staying with him. Period." I explaied further that my kids were on their way, and they WOULD see their Daddy, no matter what. Everyone said ok.

I had called Christopher shortly after I arrived and told him that I hated to ask him to do this, but I needed him to bring the boys to see Gerry right then, possibly for the last time. They arrived just as Gerry was being wheeled off for his CAT scan. The kids spoke to him briefly and then he left. Patrick was exhausted, so he curled up on the air mattress with Sittie and fell asleep. Jacob stayed awake for a few minutes, long enough for Cathy, another of our favorite nurses, to bring him and Zak each some tea. Then Jacob, too, fell asleep. Zak was wide awake. When he'd first arrived, he'd held out his hand with his rosary in it, and said, "Look, Mom, we prayed the whole rosary on the way over here." Christopher told me that when he'd told Zak they were coming to the hospital, Zak had gone straight to the rosaries and offered his brothers theirs, and then led everyone in the prayers on the way here. He's such a good boy.

Anyway, Giddie went down to the CAT scan with Ger while the rest of us waited. He called frequently with the play by play. By the time Gerry came back from CAT scan, he had settled down. His breathing was more normal, his heart rate was down, he wasn't posturing, and seemed to be resting. It was decided not to put him in ICU.

The bloodwork ruled out a metabolic issue, the CAT scan looked very much the same as the last one he'd had, and no one was very sure what had happened. Burt was called at some point during all the activity, and in the end, everyone's best guess is that Gerry was having some continuation of the seizure activity he'd been having earlier. If it was a seizure, it lasted for about an hour. The second seizure med eventually kicked in and stopped it.

Ger remained calm and stable, so I sent the boys back home with the Ritcheys, but I stayed. He has been sleeping ever since, which is probably a product of the medicine and the prolonged seizure. It is now close to 24 hours later, and nothing has changed. We're watching him like a hawk, though.

It was a physically and emotionally exhausting night. I managed to strain my back and shoulder, and despite my wonderful massage therapist's best efforts for hours this morning, it is still very stiff and painful. Emotionally, it's hard to say exactly what I'm feeling. There is so little of Gerry left in there, and I can't tell for sure if he even recognizes me any more. I know he would hate to be this way, but I know he wanted to fight to the finish.

Last night, in the middle of everything, before he went for his scan, I got in close and told him that if he was still fighting, then we were fighting like hell right along with him. I also told him, though, that if he was tired of all of this, and his body just couldn't take anymore, then we'd be ok and he could go. I don't know if he heard me or not, but he didn't seem to quit fighting. After that chat, I just assured him that we were all there with him, and that we would stay with him no matter what.

At this point, if he's tired, I have no right to ask him to keep fighting. That's why I deliberately chose my words. I didn't spend the night urging him to "hang in there," or "stay strong," or "keep fighting." I just told him that we were there, and we loved him, and we wouldn't leave him. I told him that I could tell he was working hard, and I was right there with him. On the other hand, if he wants to keep fighting, I don't have the right to take that away from him, either. It's hard to know what he wants right now, since he hasn't communicated meaningfully with me in about two months.

I really miss him.

We're supposed to make big, hard decisions together.


I'll update when there's more to tell.

Love and blessings,
Laura

Friday, May 21, 2004 9:03 AM CDT

Hello, everyone.

I have caught up on a little sleep, so hopefully, I can give you a coherent update.

Much of our little laundry list of prayer points seems to be coming along well. Gerry's pneumonia seems to be gone, or mostly gone. All the docs and nurses say his lungs sound great. Right this minute, he is on no oxygen at all, and his blood oxygen saturation is staying around 95%, which is considered normal. I think the plan with regards to the pneumonia is to keep going with the breathing treatments and antibiotics for a few more days, as a way of preventing it from coming back, especially since he's still in the hospital and in bed all the time.

As for the staph infection in his blood, it seems to be staying under control. His fevers are hanging around under 100 degrees, so no one is getting too worked up about them. His blood cultures from the other day are still negative, I think, so I think we're almost out of danger of losing the PICC line. As a quick aside, I'll explain the PICC line, because I think some people are confused. My apologies for that. I get so used to throwing these terms around on a daily basis that I start to assume everyone knows them like I do.

PICC stands for Peripherally Inserted Central Catheter. It is a catheter that goes into a vein in his arm - Ger's is in his left arm just above and to the inside of his elbow -and the end of the catheter is somewhere just above his heart. A little tube with a cap is all that is on the outside. It provides acess to a vein at all times, so they can give any IV meds that way and also draw blood from it, all without sticking him with any needles. The PICC was placed during a minor surgical procedure in November, and it has been there ever since. I take care of it for him, and it has been a blessing, especially as Gerry's other veins have become harder and harder to access.

So, anyway, having to remove the PICC line because of infection would be very bad, because we would have to figure some other way to access a vein for the continued IV antibiotics that he will need, as well as for all the bloodwork he continually needs. Fortunately, for now it looks like he can keep the PICC line because the infection is under control.

Gerry has been much more awake and alert these last couple of days. He still isn't talking again, but I hope that he will again as his strength continues to build. Our friend and eye doctor, Frank LaRussa, had recommended that Gerry's contacts stay out while he was sleeping so much. So poor Ger has been virtually blind for a few days. Now that he's awake more, though, I think he may be able to get his contacts back.

I went home last night to be with my boys some. The situation they've had with the Ritchey family has been the best possible situation for them under the circumstances, but the boys are still beginning to wear thin after being away from home now for close to three weeks. The last few times I had visited with them, they were melting down and needing more mommy time. Yesterday, I picked them up from school, and spent the evening with them, and then we all slept at home in our own beds. Tonight, we will do the same. I hope that they will be recharged enough to face a few more days of separation after that. I also hope and pray that Gerry will be well enough to come home next week.

Right now, he's still a little too sick to be home. I don't want the full responsibility for his care right now. I hope that soon, though, he will be well enough for me to feel comfortable bringing him home.

I guess that's all for now. I'll sign on again when there's more to tell.

Thank you for all your prayers. Keep them coming!!

Love and blessings,
Laura

Tuesday, May 18, 2004 4:44 PM CDT

Hi, everyone.

Time for an update. I'll try to be concise, but that's not my specialty, as you all know by now.

Ger has had some more fevers, another bevy of tests, his feeding tube has been changed to a different kind, and his antibiotics have been tweaked repeatedly.

Test results are showing that a)Ger has pneumonia, which we already suspected, and for which he is already being treated. He probably did aspirate.
b)He has a staph infection of the blood, and the PICC line is the most likely source. The antibiotic that the Infectious Disease team put him on is seeming to help, and should cover the staph. The problem is, we have to be able to get a blood culture from the PICC line that comes back clean in order to be able to keep the PICC ilne. If the blood cultures keep coming back positive for staph, the PICC line will have to come out while the ifection is brought under control. Where to go from there is still up in the air.

So for now, I would appreciate prayers in the following areas:

a) That Gerry continues to build strength and fight.
b) That the infection in his blood is brought under control quickly enough that he can keep his current PICC line.
c) That Gerry's pneumonia clears soon.
d) That the tumor remains stable while we get these other issues under control, since he can't be on his chemo right now.
e) That all the doctors and other staff working on Gerry's case are filled with God's guidance and wisdom as they lead us and make decisions about him.
f) That we, as his family, make the right choices for him.

Thanks, as always for your prayers and support. I'll update again ASAP.

Love and blessings,
Laura

Sunday, May 16, 2004 8:04 PM CDT

Hello, friends and family,

We are still at UAB, of course. When Gerry first arrived here on Friday, a bevy of tests was ordered immediately. He had a repeat chest x-ray, all kinds of bloodwork, and an MRI. The MRI was a key piece to the puzzle, because we needed to know what was going on in Gerry's head. Had the tumor begun to grow rapidly again, and that caused the swallowing difficulties? Was there a bunch of swelling in his brain that caused swallowing problems, leading to the aspiration which caused the pneumonia? Was the tumor still stable?

The answers to those questions would help us decide how to proceed. If the tumor were growing again, then we would know that Gerry was basically beyond medical reach, aside from making him comfortable. If swelling were the issue, then we'd need to crank up his steroids again to reduce it. Fortunately, neither of those was the case. The MRI showed that the tumor was exactly the same as it had been on the May 3rd MRI - stable. With that information, we were ready to give Gerry everything he needed to rally yet again.

So, as to the question of why he suddenly had swallowing difficulties and subsequently aspirated? There are no definitive answers. Burt said that sometimes when a patient whose neurological functions are already depressed then gets any little infection, all the functions get worse. It could be that he was brewing some type of infection, and that set off the aspirations that led to his pneumonia. It could be that the increased Thalidomide dosage, which made him so tired, caused him to get sleepy enough to aspirate something, which set off the infection, which set off more aspirations. We'll never really know exactly what transpired. It's kind of a chicken vs. egg thing, and it doesn't really matter, since it wasn't tumor growth or swelling. The bottom line is that he has pneumonia to be treated.

He had a fever on Friday, but it went down with Tylenol. Yesterday was a day of trying to figure out the best plan for getting some nutrition to him. It wasn't as easy as it sounds - nothing is easy with Gerry. We waited all morning and part of the afternoon for a speech therapist to come and do another kind of swallowing evaluation to see if it would be safe to give Gerry anything by mouth. Finally, that test was done, and he failed. The next step was to try to get a feeding tube down his nose and into his stomach. That was a nightmare. The first guy who tried to do it just forced and forced and made Ger turn purple and panicky, and I ejected that guy from the game.

The next nurse who tried got it in, but after the x-ray to confirm it was in the right place actually showed that it was coiled, it had to be removed for another try. Several more tries ensued over the next few hours, all of which wore Gerry out terribly. He didn't have enrgy to spare, since he was already dealing with a major infection, and it had been close to 4 days since he'd had any nutrition. Stacy was Gerry's nurse last night. If you've kept up with our site for a while, you may recall that we ADORE Stacy, and think she totally hung the moon. She not only knows her stuff inside and out, but also advocates for him like one of us would.

Stacy spoke with the doctor, and they decided to try a different kind of tube. Of course, Stacy got the tube in and Gerry was finally able to get fed. The nutritional part of things now seems to be under control, so far. He is processing the feedings well.

During the night, though, Gerry spiked a fever. Never a dull moment, remember? So this morning, another round of bloodwork and cultures was ordered, and the antibiotic was changed. Gerry's fever got up to about 103 degrees, and is 100.1 now. He's had another hard day. He's had more blood drawn for blood cultures, which can't all come from his PICC line, so he had to get stuck again. He's been catheterized again for another urine sample. (Ouch!) He had his lungs suctioned out, undeniably the most horrifying part of his day, in order to send off a sputum culture. (Don't you just love that word?)

It would be a terribly cruel irony for us to get Gerry's tumor stable again, only to have pneumonia take him out, but that is a real possibility. That being said, he has been known to rally like crazy before, so we'll just have to wait and see what the next few days bring. I have prayed that God keeps Gerry in His hands, because I definitely do not want the burden of making impossible decisions for Ger. I have let the kids know what we're facing, another gut-wrenching set of conversations, but they're handling it. We'll just keep on doing whatever seems best at the time, and wait for God's timing and His plan to unfold. That's all we can do.

Thank you for your prayers for our whole, big, wonderfully close knit family. We are suffering at the thought of losing Gerry, but we are strong together, through God's grace. I ask God to bless and keep each of you, and to bless especially the Ritchey family, who are doing such a beautiful job of taking care of our children for us right now. They are amazing, generous, open-hearted, fun people who absolutely epitomize being living examples of Christian faith.

I'll write more soon.

Love and blessings,
Laura

Friday, May 14, 2004 8:57 AM CDT

Hello, everyone.

It's hard to know where to start - I have been so busy and tired that I haven't updated in a long time, and MUCH has transpired.

When last I updated, Ger had begun therapy in earnest and was making a little bit of progress. As of last Friday, Ger was doing fairly well at therapy, but was getting tired. We were able to get him out on Saturday night for our son, Jacob's, First Holy Communion at church. That went well, with no problems, and Gerry seemed to enjoy it. He sort of sang along with some of the hymns and mouthed some of the prayers. Jacob was very glad he was there.

Saturday night, Gerry's dose of one of his chemo drugs was increased. It was a scheduled increase, but it has a very sedative effect on Gerry. Consequently, he was very sleepy for most of Sunday. The kids came and visited anyway, which was good.

Monday Ger was zonked out and did nothing in therapy. Tuesday was much the same, and we found out that Ger was being discharged. At first, I was very disappointed, mostly because I thought that he was being discharged because everyone was writing him off. After talking more with his therapists and case managers, though, and seeing him basically sleep/zone out through another day of therapy, I felt better. He isn't being discharged because someone is giving up on him or not giving him a chance. It's just that he does not have the stamina for this pace right now, and if we keep him perpetually exhausted, it will hinder any progress he could make in any area of his health. So the plan was to send him home with a schedule of continued therapy for us to follow with him, and send him to outpatient therapy, and give him time to rest and rebuild enough strength and endurance to make significant, consistent progress at Lakeshore.

The plan was to discharge today, Friday, after giving Giddie and me a little more time to learn all the things we need to know before going home. Meanwhile, a couple of days ago, Ger began to cough a little when drinking. It got worse on Wednesday, after decreasing his steroid dose (another planned change) on Tuesday. His speech therapist ordered a swallowing study, which showed that he was aspirating a little with liquids. That puts him at risk for pneumonia. So, we modified his diet to thickened liquids and well-drained solids. That was Wednesday. By Wednesday night, Ger seemed to be aspirating a little more, in spite of the thickening. By around 4:30 on Thursday morning, his breathing was rattling and he was getting a fever.

The doctor ordered antibiotics and a chest x-ray. The x-ray didn't show definite aspiration pneumonia, which sounded very familiar. I told him that last time, it was assumed that Gerry had pneumonia even though the x-ray was inconclusive. That time, it was several days before we all sorted out that it was actually blood clots in his lungs. I told the doctor all that, so he ordered a chest CT scan.

We went by ambulance to Healthsouth hospital for the CT, which can't be done at Lakeshore. While Ger had his scan, I put everything in God's hands. I told Him that I am so tired of making big decisions for Ger, and that I prayed that any decisions I make would be in line with God's will. I further prayed to be able to discern God's will. Anyway, the scan came back - no blood clots. Glory to God for that one, because that's more serious. It did show early aspiration pneumonia. I spoke to the doctor, and was given the choice to take Ger home and have Home Health come and give him IV antibiotics, or have him admitted to UAB.

I chose UAB, because I want to work with Burt to get another MRI or scan of Ger's head and see what is going on. It's possible that when he went down on the steroids on Tuesday, it kicked off some rebound swelling which caused the rapid decline of his swallowing abilities. (We immediately went back up on the steroids on Wednesday after the swallowing study.) Anyway, Burt and I need to figure out if we can increase the steroids more and get the swelling and therefore the swallowing under control again, or if the tumor has actually started to grow again, in which case there will be more tough decisions to make.

Right now, the priority is to get him transferred to UAB, get the infection under control, and see what's what in his brain. To that end, I think the bed at UAB is ready now, so I need to sign off and pack up so that we can go. I now have the laptop with me, since I will be with Ger constantly at UAB, so hopefully I can update more frequently over the next couple of days.

Please keep praying for us. Things change so rapidly with Gerry lately - it's scary.

Love and blessings,
Laura

PS I didn't take time to proofread - forgive me any typos or grammar flubs.

Thursday, May 6, 2004 1:40 AM CDT

Hello, everyone!

Well, Tuesday was Gerry's first day of therapy, and he basically slept through it. I took him from one therapy to the next, but he was so exhausted that he was a zombie.

It was not a great way to start. However, Wednesday morning (today, to me) he was alert, and was able to give maximum effort all day. He spoke to his speech therapist, balanced for his occupational therapist, hit a drum and followed some other commands for his music therapist, and supported some of his weight with his legs on a special contraption for his physical therapist. He was on fire today!

He even spoke in response to a question from my mom this afternoon when she came to visit after all that therapy. I would have really guessed that he was far too tired at that point to talk at all, but he did. She asked how he was doing. I suggested that he could answer, saying, "I'm tired." Instead, he looked up and said, "I'm good." That may not sound like a very big deal, but he almost never says anything that isn't just echoing what's just been said. It's also so typical of Ger to say he's good. He is never a whiner, and he has such a strong will to survive this and get better. He constantly defies the odds, and with God's continued help, will keep on doing so.

His typical day starts around 6:00 am, with getting cleaned up and dressed for the day, doing some of his passive physical therapy in bed (that one is mostly up to us), getting breakfast, and getting his meds.
8:00 Speech therapy
8:30 Occupational therapy
9:30 Music therapy
10:00 Break
10:30 Physical therapy
11:30 Lunch
12:30 Occupational therapy
1:00 Speech therapy
1:30 Break
2:00 Psychology
2:30 Physical therapy
3:30 Music therapy group
4:00 Back to his room for the evening

I am interested to see what happens with him tomorrow. Today was his first full day to really participate in all of his therapy, and it was somewhat grueling for him. I'm hoping he doesn't have another zombie day tomorrow due to fatigue from today. I'll know in a few more hours.

Speaking of which, I'm going to bed!!!

Please join me in praying for continued improvement and for a permanent cure for Gerry. I want my husband back, and my kids want their daddy. We can get him back with God's help and a lot of hard work!

Love and blessings,
Laura

Monday, May 3, 2004 5:12 PM CDT

Hello, everyone!

What a day this has been! It started at what is, in my opinion, a thoroughly detestable hour of the day - 5:00 am.

I was up at that hour to get myself and Gerry ready for his 7:15 MRI and 8:00 clinic appointment. Our transportation was supposed to come at 6:20 to pick us up, but he was a no-show. So at the last minute, Giddie called Gerry's good ol' cousin, Doug, who was at our house in record time to help us get Gerry into our van. Doug said he just had a feeling going to bed last night that the transportation would be an issue, so when the phone rang this morning, he was up in an instant.

Usually the night before an MRI, or for several nights before an MRI, I am on edge and don't sleep well, worried about the results. Then, in the MRI waiting area and all the time leading up to Burt (Dr. Nabors) telling us the results, I am a nervous wreck as well. Not this time, though. I have had a deep sense of peace for several days now, a God-given feeling that things are going to be ok. I slept just fine last night, and felt no nervousness at all this morning.

When Burt came in to see us, he said that the MRI shows that the tumor is stable, and maybe even a little better! That's miraculous news! In January I was told there was extremely little chance of ever getting the tumor under control again. Yet, it seems to be going dormant again, at least for now. There is no additional bleeding, but the previous bleeds have not reabsorbed yet. As they do, we still expect to be able to regain some of the functions Gerry has lost.

Burt said that what we need to focus on now is rehab. He is tweaking some of Gerry's medications to make sure that we have him on the smallest possible therapeutic doses of seizure meds, etc., without excessively sedating him. Burt wants to give Ger the best possible chance to progress in rehab. His chemo will remain mostly the same, except for the CCNU, which makes his platelets tank. That will be a smaller dose this time.

Speaking of rehab, the latest we heard last week about Lakeshore was that Blue Cross was going to need several days to send Ger's info to their medical director for review, and that IF we got him in, it definitely would NOT be today. We, of course, wanted to get him in today for a couple of reasons - one being that we would already have Ger out of the house, and another being that the sooner he begins rehab, the better.

All of us had prayed for someone at Blue Cross to understand and move quickly, but I had really mentally let that whole issue go. I felt certain that we'd get him in, but I gave up on it being today. After Burt gave his talk on the need for rehab, he left the room and Richard went to go get supplies to draw Gerry's blood. Meanwhile, who should call but the nice lady from Lakeshore, saying that we should bring him straight there when we were done!

Hallelujah! Two miracles in one day. God is certainly taking care of us, and I know He will continue to do so. I am looking forward to watching Gerry improve. We took him over there and got him settled in today, and he will begin therapy tomorrow.

Oh, and here's another big God-wink. I was a little hesitant about not being able to be by Gerry's side all the time to advocate for him, because our hospital experiences have convinced us of the crucial role a patient's personal advocate can play in getting the best care. When I got the call to bring Gerry to Lakeshore today, I was told that the Blue Cross rep has requested that we stay with Gerry through all of his therapies to learn everything we can about what they're doing for him! Praise God! Giddie and I will alternate so that each of us can still get some down time, but one of us will always be with Gerry, watching out for him.

We may have a long, hard road of rehab ahead of us, but we are more than ready, willing, and able to face that. God has brought us this far, and I really think He will bring us all the way. A million thanks to all of you for your continued prayers for us, and especially your recent, specific prayers about platelets, the MRI, and Lakeshore. Gang, we're batting 1000! Let's keep those prayers going, for continued tumor death, and for improvements through rehab.

I really have to go now - I need to get back to Lakeshore. I really only dashed home to grab our stuff, and to take a second to update everyone. I don't want to take the laptop to Lakeshore because I don't have a safe place to put it while I shadow Ger all day, so I'll update whenever I can.

Keep the faith! God is good!

Love and blessings,
Laura

P.S. To my special friends from the MRI waiting room this morning, it was wonderful to meet you, and I pray that you also received good news today!

Tuesday, April 27, 2004 10:38 PM CDT

IMPORTANT: Even if you've read this entry, see the addendum at the end - added Wednesday afternoon, April 28th.
Thanks, Laura
---------------------------------------
Hello, everyone.

It's time once again for an update.

Most things are about the same as they have been. We were able to go down again today on Gerry's steroid dosage, which is a very good thing. He is now on 6mg per day. We're working our way down, 2mg every two weeks, until he is completely off them, God willing.

His platelets are very low, though. Platelets are the part of the blood that help it to clot, and stop bleeding. They are low because of the chemo that he takes once every six weeks. In fact, they are the lowest they've ever been. Normal starts at 150,000 and Gerry's are currently 27,000. Not good. That is as of yesterday. Someone is going to come tomorrow morning and draw his blood again to check them. If they are still in the 20s, then Gerry will have to go into the hospital for 24 hours to have a platelet transfusion. We don't want that, so we're all praying for platelets!

I know I mentioned on one of my recent updates that I went away for a scrapbooking retreat recently, and while I was there I met someone who is an Occupational Therapist at Lakeshore Rehab. She is the one who showed me some very helpful and effective things to do to combat the swelling that Gerry was having in his right arm and leg. Those measures have continued to be very effective, and the swelling seems very much under control now. I think it was a definite God wink that she and I were both there that weekend.

In fact, I know so, and here's why. A few days after we got back, she called me and said that she couldn't get Gerry off her mind. She said that the more she thought about him and some of the things I'd been telling her, the more she thought that he could really be helped by coming to Lakeshore as an inpatient. She told me that they have a special cancer program that people come from all over the country to experience, and that they also have a special brain injury program. Ger would kind of cross over both. She said he would get physical therapy, occupational therapy, and speech therapy twice each per day. He would have 7 hours of intensive therapy per day. She said all of their patients improve, and she thinks that they can really help Ger. He would stay there from one to eight weeks.

So I called Richard (nurse practitioner) and Dr. Nabors, and they thought that it was a really good idea. They sent the orders to Lakeshore, and I called today to follow up on the paperwork. I think I spoke with the head of case management, and she was very nice. We set up a tour of the facility for tomorrow morning, so Giddie (pronounced with a soft G, by the way,) and Sittie (Gerry's mom) and I will all go on the tour while Ger's cousin Doug stays here with him. God bless our family - they sure do help out all the time. Lately, I don't know what we'd do without Doug around. (I know his mom might disagree, but I'm certainly not too unhappy that he hasn't yet found a job!)

Anyway, tonight, another woman called me from Lakeshore to ask a bunch of questions. She is the liason between patients and the insurance nightmare, I think. She, too, was extremely nice, and was trying to gather any and all helpful information that will help Blue Cross understand why this would be such a good move for Gerry. All of this was put into motion because I took a little time for myself to go on a scrapbooking retreat. God certainly does work in mysterious ways.

Assuming all goes well with the tour tomorrow, and we feel comfortable with the program, the paperwork will proceed, and I guess it will be up to Blue Cross. Gerry has an MRI and an appointment with Dr. Nabors on Monday, so we're all aiming to get him approved so that we could take him to Lakeshore after his appointments on Monday. That would be best for all of us since we'd already be out.

So, we need lots of specific prayers right now. Pray that Gerry's body produces more platelets right away. Pray that someone who gets our case at Blue Cross sees that Gerry needs to be at Lakeshore and agrees to it. Pray that Gerry's MRI on Monday brings good news. Pray that Gerry is strong enough on Saturday to go on a special healing pilgrimmage here locally.

I guess that's all for now. I'll try to update again in the next couple of days about the platelets and any other pertinent news.

Thank you, as always, for checking on us.

Love and blessings,
Laura

ADDENDUM: A home health nurse came this morning and drew Gerry's blood again. As of today, his platelet level is 40,000. Wahoo! No hospital time, no transfusion! Many thanks to all of you who prayed for platelets, did the platelet dance, gathered them from dusty corners of your homes, or whatever. It worked!
Love, Laura

Monday, April 19, 2004 10:43 PM CDT

Hello, everyone.

Where does the time go? I'm actually a little surprised that it has been a week since I updated everyone.

I guess a little recap is in order, although, thankfully, Gerry has been fairly stable. We have been able to decrease Gerry's steroid dose a little, and in another week, we'll reduce it again, assuming that he is still doing well. That is a very good thing. We're trying to get him weaned off the steroids altogether, because they are a double-edged sword. They were necessary to control swelling in Gerry's brain, but now that doesn't seem to be an issue. The side effects of steroids are many and they aren't pleasant, so the sooner he's off those, or down to only a small dose, the better.

The steroids are a big factor in Gerry's loss of strength and loss of muscle mass. They make his face very puffy, they can cause him to be wakeful at night, they probably contributed to weakening his tooth to the point that it cracked, they can mask symptoms and infections - they just cause a host of their own problems. I'm very hopeful that we can get Gerry weaned completely off steroids again.

Sometime last week, I made it my goal to get Gerry to say some things that weren't just echoing something we'd just said. For example, I know that I can usually tell him, "Say good morning" and he will. What I wanted to know is if he could pull out of his brain some word or words that he hadn't just heard, and get them to make all the connections necessary to come out of his mouth. It's actually a much more complicated process than we ever think about it being.

So anyway, I started by asking him some things like, "How is your lunch?" I wasn't getting anywhere that way, though, so I figured I'd better simplify things and ask him something more concrete. I began holding up objects and asking him to name them. At first, I had no luck, but one day last week, when he seemed particularly lucid, I held up the telephone. I asked him, "Can you tell me the name of this object?" At first he said, "Tool..object." I told him that was a good effort, and I was pretty sure he was thinking of the right word, but it didn't seem to be coming out the way it should. I asked him to try again, and he said, "Telephone." We were all rejoicing, and he was chuckling. I told him that I know it must seem ridiculous to him that his dad and I were so happy that he could say telephone, but that it really was a great step forward. I explained to him that he had previously only been echoing what we'd said, but that this time he had pulled out a word from the memory banks and said it out loud. I often get the feeling that so much more conversation is going on in his head than is coming out. He may even think some of it is getting out when it isn't.

Later that same evening, Ger's mom asked him the answer to 9 times 9. At first, Gerry said "18", but then corrected himself and said "81." That was great in two ways. Not only did he say something that was an original thought, but it was also a computation. I think those were positive steps, indicative of increased cognitive function.

He seems to be making another positive step. When Ger first lost use of his right arm, he also began to "pocket" food on the right side of his mouth. That's just what it sounds like - after eating, he would have a bunch of food still stuck on the right side of his mouth, between his teeth and gums. I've mentioned before that his dad and I have to clean out his mouth for him. (Lovely.) Well, lately, Ger seems to be pocketing less and less. There are still some types of food that cause him more trouble than others, but in general, he seems to be better able to feel what's over there and clear a lot of it himself.

Those are sort of subtle improvements, but they are important. He's not on a steady decline. He's still able to rally and improve, just as he has always been able to do. He's amazing.

This weekend, I was able to get away Friday and most of Saturday to go to a lake house with some friends. We relaxed some and scrapbooked some, both of which were good for me. When I got there, I called home to check in, and Giddie put Ger on the phone. He talked to me much more than he usually talks all at once.

ME: Hi, Ger!

HIM: Hi, Laura.

ME: I love you.

HIM: I love you, too.

A minute or two of me talking to him...

HIM: I love you, too.

Then I talked to Giddie for a minute...

ME: Bye, baby.

HIM: Bye, baby.

ME: I love you.

HIM: I love you, too.

I was so impressed that he said so much in a row. He was able to keep focused on talking to me on the phone, which is very hard for him. He is exceedingly distractible these days.

While I was gone, I had a great talk with another scrapbooker there who is also an Occupational Therapist. She works a lot with brain injured and brain tumor patients. She is also very well trained in dealing with lymph edema, which is a particular type of swelling. We have been battling that in Ger's right arm and leg. Some of his edema is veinous, which is deeper, but some is lymph edema. She was able to show me some different things to do for Ger, and they have already begun helping. God wink...

I guess that completes the update for now. We are still putting one foot in front of the other, and putting our faith in God. That's how we get through the day.

Thanks for your thoughts and prayers.
Love and blessings,
Laura

Tuesday, April 13, 2004 3:25 PM CDT

Hi, everyone.

We did actually make it to church for Easter this Sunday. The transport service was able to come and drive Gerry for us. It was very kind of Mr. Butler (the guy who owns the service) to do that.

On Saturday night, Gerry said almost the entire Rosary with us - probably about 40 prayers in all - and we were thrilled. Then the storms kept us awake all night, so poor Gerry was totally exhausted on Sunday. He wasn't really able to participate at church, except for trying to sing a little of the last hymn. He came home and had a nap, after which he perked up a little.

We make him talk at least a little bit every day. Sometimes he will only sing a line from a song when I prompt him by singing the line before it. Sometimes he says a little more. Most of what he says is just repeating something we tell him to say, or giving a standard response. Occasionally, the response is not quite so standard. For example, last night, at bedtime, Zak said, "I love you, Daddy," like he always does. Most of the time, Gerry can't say anything. This time, he said, "Thanks." Zak, good natured and funny as always, said, "Well, that wasn't exactly what I was looking for, but I'll take it!"

We continue to go to the sink to stand every day. We try to do it at least twice per day. It seems that he's slowly beginning to build a little strength in his legs. Lately he is a little more able to support some of his own weight, so maybe we're making a little progress.

His right arm is still totally inoperable, but we do physical therapy on it, too, to keep it limber and try to preserve muscle mass. The days just kind of get taken up with getting Gerry dressed, and physical therapy, and feeding him, and cleaning his mouth, and making sure he gets all of his meds, etc. We look around, and it's time for the kids to come home.

In other news, we got a new van yesterday and it's fantastic. Our old one is on its last legs. We'd like to extend sincere gratitude to all who helped us with this purchase.

I guess that's all for now.
Love and blessings,
Laura

Wednesday, April 7, 2004 11:59 PM CDT

Hello, friends and family.

The last time I wrote was last Friday, so I'll do my best to give a thorough update since then.

This weekend, our friends Kristin and Alan and their girls Mackenzie and Maddie came to see us. They are the friends we go see in Atlanta every chance we get. We had a very nice visit with them on Saturday. I look forward to the time when I can take Gerry and the boys back to Atlanta to visit them again.

On Sunday, there was just no way Gerry was going to make it through church, so he and I stayed home, and the boys went to church and to lunch with Gerry's parents and the rest of the family. On each of those days, Gerry was still talking a little here and there.

On Sunday night, we gathered on my bed in the den (where we live now) to have our nightly family prayer time. Gerry's parents were here with us, and we all said our free-form prayers and then began to say our nightly decade of the Rosary. For those who don't know, that involves saying the Lord's Prayer once and then a prayer called the Hail Mary ten times in a row. (That's not all it is, but that's the short explanation.) Anyway, after a few Hail Marys, Gerry started praying with us. We were all very surprised and overjoyed to hear him pray with us. The rest of us were choking back tears as we all kept praying, not wanting to do anything to disturb Gerry's momentum. He prayed about 5 or 6 prayers with us that night. A few minutes later, when the boys were kissing him goodnight, he actually managed to say "love you" in response to them. It was magical.

On Monday night, he prayed a couple of prayers but then became distracted and quit. He's very easily distracted. Monday he had physical therapy, and our friend who is a massage therapist also came and worked with his right arm some. (She gave Giddie and me massages, too! Love her!)

At bedtime Monday night, after I brushed Gerry's teeth, I looked into his mouth with a penlight, just to check on the place where he'd had oral surgery a few months back. The incision site is still in the process of slowly healing and closing, and we watch it to keep it clean and monitor it for infection. While I was in there, Gerry moved his tongue a certain way and I realized that his molar next to the surgical site was cracked almost completely in half!

The first thing Tuesday morning, I was on the phone with Richard, Dr. Nabors' nurse practitioner, letting him know that Gerry had a tooth problem and that we'd be going to see the oral surgeon again. I wanted to call to check with him first about not giving Gerry his blood thinner shot that morning and to see if there was anything else I should know.

I got Ger an appointment for that afternoon, so Giddie contacted the transport service, and thankfully, the man was able to work us in on short notice. The oral surgeon took one look at it and said, "Oh, yeah, that tooth needs to come out." So poor Gerry had a tooth pulled yesterday afternoon. Previously, he'd never even had a cavity.

It was a quick and uncomplicated extraction, according to the nurses. They said that it was rotten all the way down to the tips of the roots, but that everything around it looked fine. Apparently, that was the original cause of all the problems he had this winter which led to the first oral surgery. The tooth must have had a tiny crack in it, large enough for bacteria to get in, but not large enough to see with the naked eye. It didn't show up on any of the x-rays because it ran perpendicular to the direction of the x-ray, so the x-ray would have been looking at it on end. Hopefully, now that the tooth is out, there will be no more mouth problems. Poor Gerry has had enough weird complications to last three lifetimes! Enough, already!

After his surgery, we had to battle him to keep the gauze in his mouth long enough for the blood to clot. Fortunately, the blood thinner that Gerry is on clears from the system quickly, so it wasn't an issue by the time he had the tooth pulled in the afternoon, since I didn't give him the medicine in the morning. Now he has to eat soft foods for several days, and nothing hot, and he can't drink through a straw nor spit, because it might dislodge the clot and make him bleed again. We still have to try to keep his mouth clean and brush his teeth, though. It is a multi-stage, multi-person process. Let me assure you, it is THOROUGHLY heinous for all involved.

Today, Gerry has mostly slept, even though he hasn't had any pain killers since last night. I checked that with Richard today, and he said that brain tumor patients don't excrete sedatives as efficiently as the rest of us, so he suspects that Gerry is still groggy from the sedation and pain killers from yesterday. We're supposed to check in with Richard again tomorrow to give him an update on whether Gerry has perked up any.

Gerry was awake this morning while we dressed him, and I played a Van Halen cd for him, because he loves them. He sang along with a couple of lines on one song! Even though his mouth is sore, I guess he just couldn't help himself. He's still in there. He had physical therapy again this morning, and he got a brace for his right foot and ankle, and also a brace for his right wrist. We stood him up at the sink, which is actually part of his therapy. The cabinets provide leg support and don't let his knees buckle, while the edge of the sink gives him somewhere to grab and brace himself with his arms. Typically, when we've done this, his right arm has been no help at all. Today, though, even though he seemed totally out to lunch the whole time, he actually gripped the sink a little with his right hand! We don't know if it was a deep rooted reflex or on purpose, but either way, that's progress!

We didn't even try to take him to family night tonight, because he was too sleepy, but we do intend to try our best to get him to church this Sunday.

Well, I guess that's all the news for now. God continues to bless and take care of us, especially the boys. It seems that they are handling all of this very well, considering everything that's happened.

Thank you for checking on us.
Love and blessings,
Laura

Friday, April 2, 2004 10:29 PM CST

Hello, everyone.

We have had a very good day. Praise God, Gerry has talked a lot today!!! He went three days without saying a word, but today, the neurons connected and he has said all kinds of things. Gerry's amazing ability to rally has surfaced yet again!

We should have known it was going to be an interesting day when we started getting him cleaned up and ready to go this morning. He was in a funny mood, very alert, laughing at the things we were saying and wandering all over me with his one good hand! I tell you, he was in rare form. I got him to say "no" and "yes," and it was very exciting.

Next he had physical therapy here at home, and he did pretty well with his right leg, which has been particularly weak. He was able to do some kicks with it. His right hand still isn't moving at all, but he can move his right arm a little. We didn't get him to a standing position this morning during therapy because we had to save strength to get downtown for his CAT scan.

Going to and from Family Night on Wednesday night had been such a monumental (and almost impossible) task, that we hired a service to take us to the appointment today. Giddie (Ger's dad,) found a "Special Needs Transport Service" to help us. It was a van with a wheelchair lift, which picked us up from home, drove us to the appointment, and was available to take us home again literally the minute we walked out of the clinic. It was wonderful.

The scan showed that one area of bleeding looked a little better, and the other looked about the same. Nothing looked any worse! We have added the blood thinner again, but at a reduced dose, to try to balance the need to avoid future blood clots with the need to avoid further bleeding. We have also added the Thalidomide again, which isn't believed to be a cause of the bleeding and is believed to be a cause of tumor death. Furthermore, if he remains pretty stable for a week, we can reduce the steroids by another 2mg. This is all good news!!!

Burt says that as the blood is re-absorbed by Gerry's body, there is no reason to believe that his arm and speech won't get better. He agrees that we should continue to be as aggressive as we three (Gerry, Giddie, and I) have the energy to be with regards to all of his physical and mental rehabilitation. During one of the times we had to stand him up this evening, he actually supported almost all of his weight by himself.

Yesterday, during a moment when Gerry was alert, I got serious with him. I told him that we (on this side of the tumor) are operating and will continue to operate under three guiding principles. I told him, "We believe that:

1) You are still in there.
2) You are trying as hard as you can to beat this.
3) You will get better and be back to your old self eventually."

I promised him that we would continue to operate on those assumptions and never give up, and he agreed (by nodding) that he would also never give up.

I do believe that he will never give up. Today, while sitting in various waiting rooms, I saw him do things with his right arm and leg that were physical therapy moves. I know he is trying his hardest. I am so proud of him and I admire the way he has faced all this trial and challenge with courage, and grace, and strength, and perserverence. Never have I seen him give in to self pity. Never have I seen him ask, "Why me?" He is so amazing, and I know his parents must be proud of him as well. While I pray that my children never have to face such an adversity, I also pray that if they do, they will show the kind of character that their dad has shown. I hope that we're doing as good a job raising them as Gerry's parents obviously did with him.

Tonight Gerry is understandably exhausted. It was a big day for him, both in terms of getting out of the house and also in terms of the physical and mental effort he showed today. It is a great effort to him to speak, but he spoke to his brother and his mother and his aunt on the phone, he spoke a little to the nurse and the doctor, he spoke to his dad and to me, and said hi to Zak. It was a banner day, and we were all joyful to the point of tears. It was so nice to hear his voice again, to hear him say, "I love you."

Do me a favor, and say that to someone the very next chance you get. Don't take it for granted that they already know it. Even if they do, there's nothing like hearing it.

Love and blessings,
Laura

Tuesday, March 30, 2004 1:49 PM CST

Hi, all.

Gerry cannot talk at all now, but there is some movement from his right arm every now and then. He is "out to lunch" a good bit of the time, but then sometimes he is very "with it," laughing at jokes and clearly following what is going on around him.

He is going to have another CAT scan this week to see if the bleeding is settling down on its own. Right now, the scan is scheduled for Friday. I will update again after that scan, or sooner if anything changes dramatically.

If this bleeding settles down on its own, this could all lead to very good things in terms of tumor regression. We are in a make-it-or-break-it phase right now. It is completely in God's hands, because everything that can be done medically about the bleeding in his brain is being done.

Keep praying for a miracle!
Love,
Laura

Wednesday, March 24, 2004 11:32 PM CST

Hello, friends and family,

We have had a strange week. The weekend was pretty good, with Ger getting a little stronger. We had a great visit with some good friends from high school. We were beginning to plan to take the kids to Atlanta at the end of this week. It's Spring Break this week and we thought we'd spend part of it with our friends there.

Monday, Gerry had an appointment with Dr. Nabors. It was a post-hospital, pre-chemo checkup. It went fairly well, and we all agreed to forge ahead and not change any of the drugs. Then Gerry, Sr. (whom I will hence forth call Giddie, as my kids do, for simplicity's sake) and I took Gerry to a favorite restaurant for lunch. We noticed that he was starting to slur his speech.

By the evening, his speech was very slurred and he was stammering quite a bit. His mouth was sort of pulling to the left, but his left arm and leg were not affected. I talked to Dr. Nabors and he thought it might be Bell's Palsy. We agreed to touch base again on Tuesday morning to see if anything had changed.

By Tuesday morning, Gerry almost couldn't speak at all. I tlaked to Richard, Dr. Nabors' fabulous nurse practitioner, and he had me give Ger some extra steroids, thinking maybe swelling was to blame. I was supposed to call at 3 or 4 that afternoon to tell him if Ger was better. By 11:30 am, Ger was definitely not better, and I was more concerned. So I called Dr. Nabors again, and he said he'd set up an appointment for an MRI that afternoon.

Gerry had an MRI yesterday afternoon, and then we saw Dr. Nabors and Richard at the clinic, even though it was not a clinic day for Dr. Nabors. I was really worried that we were going to find that the tumor was ocmpletely out of control and that Dr. Nabors was recommending no further treatment.

In typical overachiever fashion, Gerry doesn't follow any expectations. When he looks good clinically, his MRI looks worse. When he looks worse clinically, his MRI looks better. So, strangely, Gerry's MRI actually looked better yesterday than it had in January. Many areas of the tumor seemed to be dying or dead. Dr. Nabors and I looked at it in great detail on the computer. We agreed to be cautiously hopeful that the chemo regimen may be working, and to go ahead with it. However, a tumor response like this can be temporary, so we take this "good news" with a grain of salt.

We did see a small bleed which didn't look new, so Dr. Nabors said to quit the blood thinner until Monday. He said he had no reason to believe that the speech wouldn't get better. We even discussed tapering Gerry down on the steroids some, since there didn't seem to be any significant swelling in his brain. It was all sort of guarded good news.

This morning, when Gerry woke up, I noticed that he didn't seem as mentally "with it" as he has been. Then I did a more thorough neuro-exam and discovered that he couldn't move his right hand or arm at all. He also wasn't speaking at all, and I was having trouble getting him to even nod. I talked to Richard, who talked to Dr. Nabors, and we decided to get a CAT scan. The bleed we saw Tuesday was on the right side, so it didn't account for the right hand being paralyzed. The suspicion was that there was a new bleed.

Gerry had a CAT scan today (after we called in enough troops to get him dressed, downstairs, and into the car). After the scan, which was at an independent place a few blocks from Dr. Nabors' office, we were told to stay in the waiting room. I knew that probably wasn't great news. Richard came in and picked up the scans, told us there was a new bleed, and that he was taking the scans to Dr. Nabors. We stayed put.

This is yet another thing I love about Dr. Nabors. He is so NOT about the ego, as so many doctors are. He knows how difficult it is to move Gerry from point A to point B these days, so he and Richard walked back over to where we were to discuss the results. There is a new bleed in the left side of his brain, which does account for the right arm problem. The bleed is in a part which was nasty looking tumor in January, but was just a cyst, or area of fluid, on Tuesday's MRI. A cystic area usually indicates dead tumor which has left a cavity which then fills with fluid - harmless. Only today, that fluid was blood.

There were some other, very small areas of blood, but they are tiny. None of these bleeds is anything like the all over "catastrophic event" that Dr. Nabors warned us about when we started the blood thinners. However, it remains to be seen whether these smaller bleeds, all of which are in tumor areas, will settle down and resolve, or will continue to happen and worsen. At some point, I guess they would become catastrophic if they don't stop.

We stopped the blood thinner after the Tuesday morning dose, so by the time Gerry woke up on Wednesday, the blood thinners would have been gone from his body. We aren't sure what is making his tumor bleed. We are holding off on the Thalidomide for a few days to see if that will help. However, the Thalidomide may have been contributing greatly to the tumor getting better. It's all a delicate balancing act at this point. We've stopped the blood thinners, so Gerry is at an increased risk for blood clots in his lungs again. Yet if we keep him on them, he will be more likely to continue to bleed. We have stopped the Thalidomide for now in case it is contributing to the bleeding. Yet what if it was contributing to tumor death?

Dr. Nabors was talking about how all of the bleeds are in tumor areas. I made a comment that the tumor seems to be collapsing in on itself. He said that it sort of seems that way. I don't think this fits any pattern he's seen. I told him that Gerry is teaching him how to throw his books out the window! I don't know if the tumor collapse, if that's what this is, is a good or bad thing. If Gerry continues to bleed, that could become a very bad thing. On the other hand, I wonder if these bleeds are part of his tumor's death...

It proves to me what I have believed all along: that each tumor and each patient and the interaction of those two is unique. Two seemingly similar individuals can have the exact same diagnosis and treatment, and still have very different experiences. We just never know what will happen, and we have no real viable choice but to try to fight and try to make the best of whatever comes our way.

So that's what we're doing now. We still had family night tonight. We laughed and had fun. Life must go on. Keeping things normal whenever possible is important. We are to watch Ger for any other changes, and then we will have another CT scan next week sometime to see if things are settling down. (Sidebar to God, in case He's reading this tonight...now would be a fantastic time for that flashy miracle we've been discussing. It would be SUCH fun to see Dr. Nabors' and Richard's faces when a scan came back completely devoid of tumor!)

Dr. Nabors said they could admit him to watch him, but that they wouldn't do anything differently than we could do. So for now at least, as long as we can manage him, we're staying home. That has to be better for Gerry, mentally. I feel sure that if he could tell me his opinion, he'd much prefer to be home. I know I do.

Maybe these strange bleeds are going to cure him. Maybe they're going to kill him. No one knows. Maybe it's neither, and this is just another strange bump in the road. I'll tell you, though, our road has so many bumps that I'm not really sure there's any road left. It may be all bumps!

Meanwhile, I'm pretty much missing Spring Break with my kids. I usually try to do lots of fun things with them during Spring Break week. They are having fun, though. They are off with the Ritcheys again, which is right where they want to be. The boys joined us for family night tonight before taking off again. I'm glad they are able to get away from all this and have fun. It's hard for them to see their dad in such a state, and I think it's pretty distressing to them that he doesn't talk. Zak seems to be able to get Gerry to say more than any of the rest of us can. Tonight, Zak walked into the room where Ger was and said, "Hi, Dad." Gerry replied, "Hi, Dad." Zak laughed and prompted him to say, "Hi, Zak," which Gerry did, and that was the most he'd said all day. I think it's a huge effort for Gerry to talk right now. Later tonight, Zak got him to say "goodnight." If we do get past this, Zak will be crucial to the rehab process, I bet!

I will journal again when I have a chance. Bear with me, as I try to sort out things around here and find time to escape the zoo long enough to update everyone. Thank you all, as always, for checking on us. We pray for you all every day. (By the way, I've prayed so much lately that I woke up from a dream last night and realized that I had literally prayed two decades of the Rosary in my dream!)

Love and blessings,
Laura

Thursday, March 18, 2004 11:33 PM CST

Hello, friends and family.

I finally find myself with enough time and energy to write again. Being home is wonderful, but it is also a workout!

Gerry is now off of the oxygen altogether. Yahoo! He has been off since Tuesday and is doing fine without it. A home health nurse was here today to take his blood for routine weekly labwork, and when she listened to his lungs, she said they sounded fine! Granted, she's no pulmonologist, but I assume she'd know rattling or wheezy lungs if she heard them.

Yesterday, Gerry slept until about noon, and then his cousin, Doug, and I, got him downstairs for lunch. After lunch, he was feeling pretty strong, so I got his walker and he walked across the den to his chair using it. I stayed by his side, but he never needed my assistance. Once in front of his chair, he was able to let go of the walker and stand using only his own balance for about 15 seconds. That may not sound like much to some people, but to us, it's huge. A week ago, Gerry would never have been able to do that. Two weeks ago, he could barely breathe, even with oxygen, and couldn't even sit up in a chair on his own. He has made big progress.

Yesterday, late in the afternoon, he really wanted to go upstairs to the bathroom, so his dad and I helped him. Again, he was able to cross most of the den with his walker. We came back down and headed off to Gerry's parents' house for Family Night. We almost didn't get Gerry up the few front steps into his parents' house. He spent a few minutes kneeling down (gently - we just couldn't keep him up when he buckled) on the next to the last step. Gerry's dad told him to go ahead and pray while he was down there, while we waited for Doug to get there to help us! Meanwhile, Gerry's mom came out, and so did Candy, so we were able to lift him to his feet again with much effort on everyone's part. We got inside - barely.

Coming out again a few hours later was another "barely" kind of proposition, so we decided not to even try to make it up our few stairs to our bedroom. Instead, we reverted to our plan B from when Gerry was discharged, and went downstairs to make a sleeping arrangement. There was already an air mattress there, and we were all too tired to even consider moving our regular bed at that hour, so we used the air mattress. Getting Gerry onto that was a total circus! It is a tall, quality, self-inflating air mattress, but it is still lightweight, so it slides around, and it is slippery, even with sheets on it. We managed, with the help of our friend, Mark, to get Gerry sitting on the side of the bed. While I ran off to get Gerry's bedtime meds, which are much easier to swallow sitting up, Gerry slid off the edge of the bed, despite Mark and Gerry Sr.'s best efforts to keep him up.

So, Gerry Sr. and Mark and I had to flat out lift Gerry, who had no energy left at all to help us. First I had to put the wheelchair against the far side of the mattress and set the brakes, to keep the mattress from sliding away from us! Then, I got on one side, and Gerry Sr. got on the other, with Mark in the back. On three we all lifted with all we had, and on four, Mark and Gerry and I fell over sideways onto the bed! At least we were on it! What a scene - we had to laugh. We finally got poor Gerry turned around correctly on the bed, got his meds and his shot into him, and were able to say goodnight. He is such a trooper. He never complained; he just went along with us and laughed.

During the night, Gerry had another seizure. When I talked to Dr. Nabors after it was over, at 2:45 am, he was impressed that Gerry is off the oxygen and doing well. We figure that the seizure may have been triggered by Gerry's total exhaustion last night. Exhaustion can lower a person's seizure threshhold. It wasn't a big one, and Gerry actually slept through it, not even remembering it this morning. I did what I always do when he has a seizure: my adrenaline immediately cranked, I talked Gerry through it, I watched him for a few minutes afterward to make sure he wouldn't seize again, I called Burt to see if he wanted to tinker with the meds, and then I prayed the Rosary and other prayers for Gerry's healing until I was finally able to fall asleep again at about 4:30.

So maybe he did too much yesterday. The way we see it, if you never push yourself to your limit, you never know where your limit is. Besides, we have to get everything we can out of whatever good time we have, so we're not going to sit around all day long. When Ger feels like going and doing, we're going to go and do. If we pay the price the next day by sleeping all day and being extra tired, so be it. Actually, though, today, Gerry had a pretty moderate amount of energy.

We had another bit of a three ring circus getting him out of bed, because the air mattress had lost air overnight, so it was squishy this morning. We had to call Mark to come back because he slid off into the floor again because the bed was so low. Ger's dad and I couldn't do it by ourselves. After we got him up and dressed, though, Gerry wanted to go to lunch! The place he wanted to go had no ramp, so we nixed that. No way were we going to try any steps today after he already slid into the floor once. We went to a similar restaurant that had a ramp. That's when we noticed we'd all but totalled another wheelchair!

We are already on wheelchair number two, having bent the bolt on the front wheel of the first one to such a degree that it wouldn't function. Also, I don't know if I mentioned that we broke a leg rest the other day, so we had to have that replaced as well. Now, we're on our second wheelchair, second set of leg rests, and we got ready to go into the restaurant and the wheelchair wouldn't roll. The bolt on the front wheel was bent. Undaunted, Gerry's dad popped a very impressive wheelie with the full load of wild-eyed Gerry holding on for dear life. Into the restaurant we strolled, making a grand entrance to the amusement of the patrons and employees.

Never a dull moment around here.

We finished our lunch in time for me to help settle Gerry at home and run off to the vet with our two cats before picking up our boys for a dentist's appointment. Suffice to say, that is a whole other story with a very angry 8 pound cat squashed into a carrier with her 13 pound sister, a feline urinary tract infection, a big puddle of cat pee and various other surprises, enough flying cat hair to make a pillow, forgotten medicine, a hair shirt, cats in the carpool line, and a barely made dental appointment. (No cavities for any of us! Well, I can't really vouch for the cats.) Anyway, my cats aren't speaking to me anymore and I am left wondering why kitty amoxicillin is bubble-gum flavored like kids' amoxicillin. Wouldn't it be better to make it beef flavored?

So, we've been out of the hospital for just over a week, and I have had time to reflect on our 11 whirlwind days a bit. Here's what I think. There were about 24 to 48 hours in there when we were very uncertain that Gerry would ever get out of the hospital. It looked grim as he slid continually downhill. Yet, even as we prayed for their wisdom, the doctors were able to re-diagnose him and change his treatment, Gerry was able to rally and turn the corner, and he got out just a few days later. Blood clots in the lungs are very serious. That is something that can kill a person instantly, with little or no warning. Yet it didn't kill him instantly. He was able to hang in there, and keep fighting, and last long enough for the right meds to start working.

My conclusion from all that is that we are not finished yet. God has more for us to do. If not, I think Ger would have died already. Our job and our purpose now is to keep on doing what we have been doing. We will keep living out loud, thanking God for each day as we ask for another, spending good times with our children, our family, our friends, working hard to get better and stronger, looking ahead to a future together, trying hard to be what God wants us to be and not take anything for granted. I pray fervently that God isn't finished with us for a very long time, but whatever our time is, our job is to be good stewards of that time.

It's an on-fire kind of existence. It's a no fears, no regrets kind of life. It has plenty of challenges, but also plenty of rewards, so we are ever thankful for every bit of it.

Love and blessings,
Laura

P.S. Tonight, we're sleeping in our own bed upstairs again. Yeah! The simple pleasures in life...

Monday, March 15, 2004 10:58 PM CST

Hello, everyone!

We are still enjoying being home. We have had a couple of very good days. Gerry is doing well and getting stronger, little by little.

He has a couple of good, energetic days, and then he has a day or two of rest. Sunday, he was strong enough to shower for the first time since the hospital. I was able to get him out of bed and help him with his shower without his dad's help. Then we went to Dreamland for ribs with Gerry's family. That was a big day for Gerry, so today he has been very tired and has mostly rested.

We are trying to settle into a new routine. Usually, Gerry sleeps most of the morning, and then we get him up and dressed and bring him downstairs. I can generally do the getting up and dressed by myself, but getting him down the stairs still takes an extra adult. We stay downstairs until bedtime, and then make the difficult trip back up. I still think we can get back to the level of independence he had before the hospital, though. It just may take a while.

To Gerry's credit, he is willing to do the work. He doesn't complain about the amount of energy it takes just to do simple things, like come downstairs and sit in his favorite chair, or go out to lunch. He just keeps on plugging, working hard, pushing himself to get stronger. A lesser man would stay in bed all day and wither. I'm proud of him.

Helping him is very physically demanding right now, and those of us doing it stay pretty exhausted. Tomorrow night is the banquet to honor all the Hoover schools' recipients of Finley Awards. That's the character award that Jacob won. That will be our big outing for tomorrow. I pray that Gerry has the energy to make it!

Speaking of energy, I'm going to bed now, so that I might have some tomorrow.

Until next time...
Love and blessings,
Laura

Thursday, March 11, 2004 11:53 PM CST

Hello, everyone!

We are so happy to be home! We arrived home at about 3:45 yesterday afternoon (Wednesday.) We rested a while, and then went over to Gerry's parents' house for Family Night.

It was great to do something so normal, even though some of us were completely exhausted. We were in bed asleep by 10:00 last night. Even though he must be anxious to sleep in his own bed, too, Gerry's dad kindly agreed to stay over last night and tonight, just to make sure that he's here if we need him during the night. Until we get Gerry's strength and endurance built up again, it will be difficult if not impossible for one person to handle him alone.

However, I totally believe that we can get back to the point where he can do more for himself. In fact, just since we've been home, I've seen an increase in his endurance, his energy level, and his overall alertness. I know that being home again is helping him recover.

Last night at bedtime, I turned off all the phones, and this morning we slept and slept. We needed that so much! We woke up feeling very well. Gerry was alert and talkative, and wanted to go to Cheeburger-Cheeburger for lunch! His dad and I had been promising him that as an incentive to work hard to get better and come home. Guess what? He didn't forget!

Guess what else? We took him to Cheeburger-Cheeburger and chowed. Live out loud! It was fun. When we came home, we sat outside in the sun for a few minutes. The weather was beautiful today. I couldn't believe all the things that have bloomed since we've been away!

A home health respiratory therapist came out today to do an evaluation on Gerry. We couldn't get him completely weaned off the oxygen in the hospital, so he came home with some. He was only on about 2 liters, which is not much. Anyway, the guy brought a pulse-ox monitor, which Gerry is to wear continuously until about lunchtime tomorrow, so it can make a recording for the doctors. Gerry's oxygen is now on only 1.5 liters, and his saturation is in the mid to upper 90s. That's great. I'm very optimistic that we can soon have him weaned off the oxygen completely.

Another small victory is that we are managing the stairs up to the bedroom, albeit not nearly as easily nor as often as we were. At this point, we're trying to limit stair travel to one trip down and one trip up per day. So far, so good. Tonight's trip up was stronger than last night's, so I know we're moving in the right direction.

The kids are happy to have us home, and we are happy to be home with them. It's so nice to have our nightly prayers all together again! I think they have been saving up all their bickering until we were all back together, though. I guess they have been so good while they were away, that they're now ready to relax and let it all hang out! It's a small price for us to pay, I guess. They have been through a lot and have handled it beautifully.

God is blessing us daily, helping us cope and helping Gerry get stronger. I pray that He continues to bless you, too.

Love and blessings,
Laura

Wednesday, March 10, 2004 10:41 AM CST

Praise God, we're going home today!!!

I think we'll be leaving sometime after lunch. Levon came at about 9 this morning, and we got Gerry up and went to the stairs. I think we're going to be able to manage our stairs at home! Yeah! Another victory!

We may not be able to go up and down them several times a day like we used to do, at least not at first, but I think we will be able to do it enough that we can sleep in our own bedroom and still come downstairs to socialize or leave the house. We will work up to doing more. God has been so good to us!

I am going to go pack now. It's going to take a U-Haul to get us out of here! I will try to update again later tonight, after family night. If not, I'll sign on again in the morning.

Thanks for all of your prayers! Keep 'em coming; we still need our big miracle!

Love and blessings,
Laura

Wednesday, March 10, 2004 1:40 AM CST

Hello, everyone.

I was just in the middle of my update, and I was totally on a roll, and then I hit a wrong key and lost it all. I'm so bummed! So here I sit, starting over, hoping that my train of thought hasn't derailed.

We had another good day today. Gerry's oxygen level is good, his lungs sound better, and we were able to go walking again with the big upright walker. Gerry was able to resume one component of his chemotherapy tonight, and will be able to take his next dose of the other chemo next week. His platelets have come back up into the normal range, above 150.

The long and the short of all this is, I think we're going home tomorrow (today - Wednesday). Yeah!!!! Glory to God for this recovery!

We probably could have gone home today if Ger's dad and I had been totally comfortable with it. We have to be safe, though, and not go home too early and fall down. We want to stay until tomorrow so that Levon, Ger's physical therapist, can take us to the mock stairs to help us see if Ger will still be able to make it up the five stairs to our bedroom at home. He will also help us transition to a regular rolling walker like the one we had just gotten at home when Ger got sick this time. We LOVE Levon - not only is he just nice and personable, but he also scored us our own upright walker and portable oxygen tank so that we could practice getting up and walking on our own. God is sending us just the right people to help us through this.

We have come up with a contingency plan in case Gerry can't make it up the stairs. We will temporarily relocate our bedroom to my workshop room downstairs. That way, we can drive right up to the door of the bedroom with Ger. There is also a bathroom on that level. If we need to go upstairs to the den or kitchen, we can just push him around to the front door in the wheelchair, or if that proves impossible because of the slope, we can put him in the car and drive him around to the front door. If it looks like we won't be able to rehabilitate Ger to the point of climbing the stairs again, then we'll look into getting a chair lift.

The important thing is to get home and be with our children as a family again. We need to get out of here and live out loud! We have things to do yet, and obviously, God has more in mind for us because He's brought us through this latest crisis.

Many of you have heard me talk (or write) about the singer, David M. Bailey, before. He also has a brain tumor. He says that each morning when he wakes up, he knows that means God isn't finished with him yet, and that God still has faith in him. When David wakes, he says, "Thank you. Hallelujah! What now? One more day."

I think that is such a beautiful and simple morning prayer. It acknowledges the joy that the gift of each new day should bring. It acknowledges God as the Divine Gift Giver. It acknowledges the responsibilty to be a good steward of that day, that gift. It acknowledges that each of us only has today, right now. There are no guaranteed tomorrows.

This hospitalization has been a scary experience. There were times when Gerry's hold was rather tenuous, and we truly wondered if we ever would get out of here. We have spent many long, late hours by his bedside, praying silently, fervently, for his health. His turn around has been quick, and rather surprising to the doctors. We can only thank God for that turn around, and pray that we are good stewards of the gift of time we've been given.

I will try to update tomorrow either when I find out if we're actually leaving, or when we get home, or if all else fails, in the middle of the night tomorrow night, as usual, when things finally settle down.

A million thanks to all of you for your prayers and your support in many ways. Let's keep storming the Heavens!

Love and blessings,
Laura

Monday, March 8, 2004 11:30 PM CST

Hello, friends and family.

Usually at this time of night, I am watching TV so that I can stay awake, and am typically in the middle of sorting out some medical mayhem for Gerry. Tonight, Gerry is having a little trouble settling into a deep sleep, so instead of watching TV, I'm writing my update early. The good news is that I have no medical mayhem to sort for him tonight, so I am free to sit here and write.

Today has been good. Bit by bit, day by day, through the grace of God, Gerry is getting better. Burt seems impressed with how quickly Gerry is rallying. I figure that part of that is because he is no quitter, and has never dwelled on the downside of any of this. Part of it is that his dad and mom and brother and I have kept constant vigil by his side, always advocating for him, working with him, stimulating and encouraging him, and making sure he is getting the best possible care in every way.

The biggest part of Gerry's recovery, though, is that God isn't through with us yet. He's bringing us through this, and I know that He's hearing Gerry's name constantly, every day, from all our wonderful friends and family, as well as from people who don't even know us but who have heard our story and felt moved to pray. It is amazing and very humbling to us to think of all the people who are praying for Gerry. I know we would be astounded if we knew the actual number. I feel a profound sense of gratitude to all of the people who are praying for us daily.

On the subject of gratitude, let me express my enormous and most sincere thanks to the Ritchey family. Christopher and Dunia have taken in my children during this family crisis, and have basically adopted them as their own. My children have had a consistent, loving, joyful, faithful family atmosphere to help them through this. The Ritcheys have made room among their eight children for my three with a warm and welcoming spirit that can only be described as faith in action. I am deeply grateful to them for loving my boys as they do.

I know that some of you want details, so here is what is significant from today. Beginning with the first med student through the door this morning, my opening line was that Gerry was supposed to get his catheter removed first thing today. It was out by 8 am, hallelujah! The next big victory was that the physical therapist came by with a different kind of walker, and we got Gerry up and walking. He went all the way to the nurses's station and back! (Now granted, that was only about 20 or 30 feet each way, but it was a big step for him.)

While we were touring the nurse's station, one of the residents waved to me, and it occurred to me how many of the students, residents, nurses, techs, doctors, interns, etc. know us by name and face now. I decided it was definitely time to get on the payroll or get out - we've been here too long!

Later in the morning, we got Gerry up again to go to the bathroom, which we repeated tonight. He has been out of bed three times today. The oxygen level in his blood has remained pretty good even though we were able to turn his oxygen down a little today. All the doctors think his lungs sound much better, and they are all starting to make little noises about the types of things we'll need to know when we go home. For example, I am going to need to learn to give him his blood thinner shots.

Dr. Nabors said that Gerry's platelets are strong enough to go ahead with his next round of chemo once we're home. His breathing treatments have also been reduced from every four hours to every six. Things are moving in the right direction. Gerry's dad and I know that part of Gerry's going home depends on our ability to manage him, so we are working hard to perfect our routines together. We make a really good team. So do Gerry's mom and I, and Gerry's brother and I. Even though the circumstances are far from nice, I am not sorry to have spent so much time with Gerry's family - our family.

I guess that's all I have to report for now. God willing, I will have another positive update tomorrow night.

Thank you all, as always, for your love, prayers, and support.

Love and blessings,
Laura

Monday, March 8, 2004 0:38 AM CST

Good evening, everyone.

Today has been a mostly good day. All morning long, Gerry's oxygen level was up and he was feeling pretty well.

Around lunchtime, Dr. Nabors came around to talk to us and he was pleased with Gerry's alertness and the numbers he was seeing for Gerry's oxygen saturation. He said Gerry's lungs sounded much better, and that his platelets are up to 125. (Normal range starts at 150, so 125 is great. When we came to the hospital a week ago, his platelets were around 50.)

While he was still here, Gerry desperately wanted to get up to go to the bathroom. He hadn't been out of bed in a couple of days, because he was too weak. So Burt said, "Well, let's try to get you up and see." This is just one of the many things I admire about him. In the room at the time were only Gerry, big Gerry, Burt, and me. Yet Burt didn't say, "Well, on my way out I'll tell the nurse," or "Wait until the physical therapist comes later and try it." He jumped right in to help do it.

The three of us got Gerry to the edge of the bed, and then stood him up. He was weak, but he made it. We got him into a chair at the side of the bed. Burt was quite pleased with that, as were we. Gerry sat up in the chair and ate his lunch, then his dad shaved his face, which hadn't been done in a week. Any of you who know Gerry well also know that after a week of not shaving, Gerry has tree trunks growing out of his face. The thick stubble was making him uncomfortable, so I had brought his electric razor from home.

The physical therapist happened to come in while Gerry was still in the chair, which was another God-wink. If we had just gotten him back into bed, he would have been way too tired to get back out again. Since he was still up in the chair, she did some exercises with him in the chair and then got a walker. We got him up and he walked about three feet with our assistance before we put him back into the bed. Those were great steps in the right direction.

As the afternoon progressed, though, Gerry's bladder started having terrible spasms because of the catheter (it happens sometimes,) so the pain was back. As the pain got progressively worse, so did Gerry's oxygen level and heart rate numbers. We couldn't begin to wean him off the oxygen because the pain was interfering.

The nurse got the doctor on call to order some pain medicine and some other drugs to stop the spasms. Around the time he got those meds, I left to go spend a few hours with my kids, whom I've barely seen in a week. I called to check in and learned that things only settled down for about 30 minutes before the spasms continued and the pain was back. Our fabulous nurse, Stacy, (whose name I misspelled last night - sorry, Stacy!) was on top of things, calling the doc to check on the pain meds. Apparently, the medication ordered by tonight's doctor was different than the meds from last night, which actually worked. Once Stacy called back and explained that, the doc authorized the same drug from last night.

The hitch was that he was going to have to wait a while to take the second drug because of having taken the first. After I learned all that, I decided to call Burt at home. I figured tomorrow is Monday, and Burt is in clinic all day, so we won't see him until evening. If Gerry continues to have problems with this stupid catheter, he could wind up in pain again all day tomorrow before Burt came around or before we waded through the chain of command. So, I jumped to the top tonight. I called Burt at home to tell him how the afternoon and evening had gone downhill, and to ask when the catheter could come out, since it is causing such misery.

Burt says it can come out first thing tomorrow! They have gotten all the information they needed from his tinkle - mainly that the diuretics are doing their job and that there's a good balance of fluids in vs. fluids out. By the time I came back up to the hospital tonight, Ger was asleep, having had the heavier drugs, but I know he'll be glad to know that the torture tube is coming out in the morning!

I also told Burt about Gerry walking a little today with the walker, and how the physical therapist plans to get a different type of walker tomorrow. We talked about how Gerry's numbers have done the same thing for two days now: they are strong in the morning when he isn't in pain, and then as the day and the pain both progress, the numbers fall. He and I agreed that once the catheter is out and the pain isn't an issue anymore, weaning Gerry off the oxygen will be much easier.

Our goal for today was to turn the corner. In spite of the spasm setback, I really feel like we did. Our next days will be focused on getting Gerry off the oxygen completely, and getting him mobile enough to be safe going home. Thank you for all your continued prayers. They're working. Keep 'em coming!

More tomorrow...

Love and blessings,
Laura

P.S. We need to get a concrete driveway made that goes to our front door, so that I can pull the car down into the yard to get Ger into and out of it. Does anyone out there know of a way we can get a good deal on this project, or know someone who would do a good job and not take advantage of us? Thanks!

Sunday, March 7, 2004 0:38 AM CST

Hello, everyone.

I'm noticing that over the last few days, my updates have gotten earlier and earlier. I guess I'm tired tonight because I'm planning to write this and then at least doze off a little.

Typically, I've been staying up until at least 3:00am and then Gerry's dad wakes up to be with Ger for the morning and I sleep until the bright-eyed doctorlings show up at 6:00am. (This is a teaching hospital, so there is a flock of doctorlings to see us every morning.)

Anyway, tonight, I think Ger's dad and I can both sleep some at the same time. Why? Well, for one thing, our favorite night nurse, Stacey, is back tonight. She is caring, and smart, and experienced without being jaded, and very willing to go to bat for us. We LOVE her. We can relax when she's here, knowing that things will be handled correctly. For another thing, Gerry is currently enjoying the most peaceful deep sleep he's had in days.

The reason he is sleeping so well is that he is drugged. He was having some problems with his catheter, causing him to be in considerable pain today. It had gotten progressively worse throughout the day, but I had not been able to get much done about it, try as I might. Our day nurse, while perfectly kind and competent, was just not a bulldog like Stacey is. I pushed her to do all she could do, which was page the doc on call for this floor, but he was tied up with something going on in the ER.

So I told her that I was going to do an end-around and call Dr. Nabors and track him down. I left messages for his nurse practitioner, at his private desk, and at his house. I even emailed him. To my surprise, he never got back to me. To give him the benefit of the doubt, maybe he's out of town or something. He is allowed to have a life of his own, I reluctantly admit.

Anyhow, the minute the shift changed here, I went and found Stacey and got her on the case. She tracked down the on-call doc and got some pain meds for Ger. When they hadn't worked an hour later, she tracked him down again and got some more for Ger. Soon after, he was resting comfortably. God bless Stacey.

So, now that I have sort of updated about tonight, I'll back up and update about today. Today was a much calmer and quieter day than yesterday. Gerry was very alert and talkative for most of the day. It was wonderful to see him laugh again, and make jokes, and express his opinion, and give his mom and me a hard time about things. Bring it on, baby!

An Occupational Therapist came to see him this morning, and she turned out to be someone we have known from our church. She and Gerry and I were all in the youth group together. That was a nice little God-wink, because she was able to spend some extra time with us and give us some exercises to do with Gerry.

He also saw a Physical Therapist today. I think PT is going to work with us to get him back up and out of bed over the next several days. Maybe since he is resting so well tonight, we'll be able to at least get him sitting up on the side of the bed tomorrow. Any sitting up or stirring around he does is good for his lungs.

Gerry's oxygen level was pretty steady today. We didn't make any great strides in weaning him down, but he was exhausted and in pain, so that's not surprising. We did change back from and open top oxygen mask to a nasal cannula, though, and he has done well. That is a good step in the right direction, because the nasal cannula is a little less intervention than the mask.

The catheter pain issue was our main hitch today. I think we have the pain licked, and it is most likely just irritation from the insertion (yow!), but next week sometime while we are still here, the Urologists want to get an ultrasound of his bladder, etc. just to make sure nothing else is going on. (We more or less demanded a Urology consult tonight - and we got it, of course.)

So I guess that's about it for today. Gerry's lungs sounded a little better to those who listened today, and they think the persistent cough that he has had for the last 24 hours is related ot irritation in his lungs caused
by the fluid in there and/or the medicine to bring it out.

Advice for the day - If you ever need to be in the hospital, take along a personal advocate who can stay with you. I can't imagine how people who don't have one actually get the caliber of care they need and deserve. Nurses are overworked and the medical hierarchy makes some of the simplest things difficult. I've said this before, and Ger and I live it: be an informed consumer of your own healthcare.

God bless and keep all of you. Keep praying - I'm hoping we can start to turn the corner tomorrow. We've had enough little setbacks.

Love and blessings,
Laura

Saturday, March 6, 2004 1:52 AM CST

Hello, friends and family.

We have had a very busy day. Gerry has had more tests today. He had a chest x-ray, a belly x-ray, and an echocardiogram, which is an ultrasound of his heart.

The general consensus among all our various doctors seems to be that Gerry does not have pneumonia, he doesn't have any blockage going on in his intestines (there had been some question), and his heart is functioning normally.

There is still a good bit of fluid in his lungs, so they will be giving him more diuretics. They've streamlined his antibiotics to a preventative dose, and have discontinued the IV fluids.

About mid-morning, things began to look up a little. We managed to clear the intestinal problem, and the diuretics kicked in, so Gerry began to feel better. He was able to breathe better, so his oxygen was decreased from 80% to 40%.

All of this was after a seizure. It was another small one. Dr. Nabors says that when Gerry's body is under great physical stress, it can lower his seizure threshhold. So, even though his anti-seizure medicine was within the normal therapeuic level, it didn't work for him right then, because of everything else.

Most of the day was good, with a general trend in the correct direction. However, since progression can never be linear for some reason, tonight Gerry's oxygen has had to be increased again. What's more, he has just now gone to sleep after literally HOURS of coughing with every breath. He's pitiful.

On the plus side, Gerry was more himself tonight than he has been since we came here. He was laughing again, and commenting, and just participating. He was even getting itrratable and complaining, which I like to take as a good sign.

Well, it looks like we'll be here a while longer, at least until mid-week. Keep praying for us.

Love and blessings,
Laura

PS. I am literally falling asleep at the laptop, so I hope this message was somewhat coherent.

Friday, March 5, 2004 2:25 AM CST

Hello, friends and family.

My friend, Pat, and I have often joked about getting things done in our "spare time," which we have always defined as the time between two and three a.m. Here I am, updating you all in my "spare time."

As I begin this entry, it is 2:30 am on Friday morning, which still feels like Thursday night to me. It has been another long day at UAB, without improvement. If anything, Gerry may have gotten a little worse today. His oxygen had to be increased again and there are some other issues that are still complicating things. Gerry doesn't even have the strength to get up and go to the bathroom now, even with lots of help.

It's late, it's dark, and it's very tempting to give in to fear, dread, and despair. Yet as I was praying the Rosary over Gerry just now, the line "Lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil" from the Lord's Prayer kept standing out to me. I cannot yield to the temptation to despair any more than I should yield to the temptation to lie, or hate, or otherwise sin. This darkness, this fear, is not from God, and I reject it and re-claim my hope, which is from God and in God.

People get very sick, and then they get well. Sometimes slowly, sometimes quickly, but people do get well every day. This is but another bump in the road. Granted, it seems to be a big one, the kind that can make you have to get your car re-aligned... so I'm re-aligning myself instead.

So, today (Thursday) was my birthday. I'm now 34. It wasn't my best birthday, but it certainly could have been worse. Thank you to all the people who called, or came to visit, or sent me flowers, or brought me a special lunch, or took me to dinner, or answered the hospital phone "Hello, it's Laura's birthday," or signed in on the website, or emailed me today. All those things helped to make today special for me in spite of the circumstances.

I am going to go to sleep now, so I might have a chance to function reasonably tomorrow.

Love and blessings to all of you,
Laura

Wednesday, March 3, 2004 11:44 PM CST

Hello, everyone.

It's Laura again. Whereas Gerry seemed to be improving slightly yesterday, things went somewhat downhill today.

All morning, the oxygen level in his blood kept slowly falling even though the oxygen level the machine was blowing was being increased. When Dr. Nabors saw him mid-morning, he decided to call the Pulmonary (lung) specialists, as well as the Infectious Disease guys.

Later in the afternoon, the pulmonary team arrived and examined Gerry. The pulmonary doctor ordered some further tests, one of which was a CT Scan of Gerry's lungs. In order to have that scan, Ger had to have an IV line put into his right hand. He has a PICC line in the left arm, but that couldn't be used for the injection of the dye. So a male nurse was sent to try to start the line. Gerry's threshhold for pain is pretty low right now, as are his platelets, and his veins are shot. So it was an uphill battle.

The nurse basically went on a fishing expedition on Gerry's arm. Paul, Ger's brother, was coming unglued. Meanwhile, a doctor was trying to get blood out of an artery in his other wrist. Poor Gerry! I was trying to coach him, reminding him of our natural childbirth training together. It was odd to be on the coaching end of things.

So after the first nurse went fishing and blew a vein, another male nurse came in to try. I looked at him and said, "Joey, I'm going to be really honest with you here. The last guy went fishing. We're not fishing again. I know we really need these tests and I agree with that, but my husband has been through enough. You get one good shot to get this, and if you don't, we're done. They'll have to find some other way to figure this out. Good luck - I hope you get it in one shot." To which Paul added, "Then she won't have to kill you and eat your young."

Anyway, Joey got it on the first shot, luckily for him and for Gerry. The CT scan revealed that Gerry has fluid and blood clots on his lungs. That is not good news at all. Apparently, it was probably not pneumonia in the first place.

So they are giving him medicine to clear the fluid from his lungs. The blood clots are a bigger problem. We can't just do nothing, because more clots could move to his lungs and cause more troubles, or even kill him. The way to combat the blood clots is to give him blood thinners. His platelets are already low, and when you add blood thinners to that, it just increases the likelihood of bleeding. He could bleed internally, including bleeding in the tumor or elsewhere in his brain.

If that happens, according to Dr. Nabors, it would be a "catastrophic event" and there would be nothing that could be done for him. That's the worst case scenario. It's not nearly as likely as more blood clots. The blood clots are something we CAN try to fix, and the bleeding is something we're just going to have to leave in God's hands. So we'll do what we can, and leave the rest to God.

They have switched Gerry from nasal oxygen to a half face mask. He mostly breathes through his mouth, so this seems to be getting more oxygen to him than the nasal cannula was. Right now (at 1:00 am) he is trying to rest. His dad and I are probably going to need to stay awake tonight in shifts, because Gerry keeps trying to take off his oxygen mask. He also tries to get up, and those are two things he absolutely cannot do right now.

His dad and I have pulled an all-nighter together before, when Ger had his second biopsy. He was in ICU that night, and we couldn't visit until morning, but I wouldn't go home, so big Ger stayed with me. Only that time, we stayed in a waiting room all night. At least this time we have a private room with semi-comfortable chairs and our own bathroom.

Anyway, that's the update for now. We have prayed a lot today for the doctors, that God will grant them wisdom and inpiration to do what is exactly right for Gerry. We also pray fervently, as always, that Gerry be totally healed and restored.

Love and blessings,
Laura

Tuesday, March 2, 2004 10:15 AM CST

Ok, let me try this again. I was busy playing guest ghost writer for the journal, as Laura is out with some well-deserved personal time,when Gerry decided it was time to get out of bed. So, here I sit, with Gerry and his father-in-law, Jerry, (both taking a needed nap after our getting-out-of-the-bed adventure) unfortunately in UAB hospital. The doctors continue to treat Gerry for what they believe to be pneumonia (spelling?) [For those who have not yet guessed, this is Paul, the usually-out-of-town brother and chronic poor speller].

As I was saying, the doctors are treating Gerry as if he had pneumonia and have, as of this morning, increased his antibiotics. Gerry has made some minor improvements but not enough to give the doctors enough to say when we can head back home. Gerry is alert and sharp, although physically weak. Whatever is in his lungs is not coming out and that is restricting his oxygen intake which, in turn, exacerbates his physical weakness. Hopefully, the anitbiotics will kick this infection's butt and we can go home by the weekend but, as always, no promises.

Since Laura has asked me to up-date the journal for her today, I thought I would take the opportunity to say my own heartfelt thanks to everyone for everything. My family is continually awed and amazed by the love and kindness shown to us. So many people from so many places have come into our lives and we into theirs in the past eighteen months. You continue to share with us your love, your time and most importantly your prayers.

I just had a friend visit from Italy and I wanted to share with you all one of the things he told me. He commented that Gerry was approaching his illness with great dignity and that Laura was one of the most incredible women he had ever met - her strength, love, hope and optimism. His words were special to me and I wanted to share them with you all. Gerry and Laura's strength and hope, and that of our entire family, are fed by the constant out-pouring of goodwill, love and prayer from everyone who visits and reads this website. And, since I am always somewhere else, I thought I would take the oppportunity to say thank you - to Gerry and Laura for their great example of faith and strength, courage and love; to my family for their great hope and tenacity; and to all of you, for your generosity and prayer.

Please know that all of you are remembered in my daily prayers. I ask that you continue to hold us all in your hearts and that you storm the heavens with your prayers. May the Christ, the Divine Physician and Lover of Mankind, grant us each the healing we need, give us His own strength to overcome our weakness, and fill our hearts with His peace.

jpk

Sunday, February 29, 2004 9:36 PM CST

Hello, friends and family,

I know that I mentioned in my update on Friday that Gerry had a cough and was getting antibiotics. By Saturday night, he was worse, and we made the decision to bring him to the hospital. He was admitted at about 10 pm Saturday night.

Dr. Nabors says that it was definitely the right decision, because Gerry is sicker than we could have handled at home. He is on two different IV antibiotics and a third, oral antibiotic now. We still don't know exactly what he is fighting, and we may not for a day or two yet. We are waiting for some cultures to grow. Meanwhile, he is being treated for bronchitis and pneumonia and probably some other things, while it all gets sorted out. Better safe than sorry.

He isn't much better yet. It may take a day or two for the meds to really start helping him. He has regular breathing treatments, is on oxygen (just a nasal tube - not a ventilator), and still spends just about every breath coughing and wheezing and rattling. It's pitiful. He's more hydrated now, though. That's at least one improvement, because he was heading for dehydration and his appetite was dropping off at home.

The doctors wanted to wean him down from the oxygen, but he isn't able to keep his oxygen levels high enough on his own right now. He's more alert than he was yesterday at home, though. So I guess some things are a little better, but his breathing really isn't yet.

I will update more as I know more.

Thanks for your continued prayers and well wishes.
Love and blessings,
Laura

Friday, February 27, 2004 4:14 PM CST

Hello, everyone!

Today is Zak's birthday, which means a)I now have a ten year old! and b) it's been 10 days since I updated.

You guys wouldn't believe how hard it is to find some free time to update when nobody needs anything from me. Usually the minute I sit down to do something like this, Ger needs my help getting up to do something, or one of the boys has a problem or needs my attention, or it's really late at night and I'm too exhausted to think straight.

We're still plugging along. Ger has strong days and weak days, alert days and not so alert days. Lately he's been pretty tired and weak. This morning he woke up with a congested cough, so he'll be back on antibiotics to try to make sure he doesn't wind up with pneumonia.

Meanwhile, we try to go out to lunch or do something interesting most days. He doesn't want to be home bound, and just spend all his time either sitting in front of the TV in the den or lying down upstairs in the bed. It's part of that brain physical therapy I've mentioned before. A change of scenery is good, and he's usually more alert after we've gone somewhere. Of course, it takes us at least two hours just to get up, get showered, get dressed, and get loaded into the car to do anything. Sometimes it's incredibly frustrating, and I get really tired of constantly being late. But like I've said before, we've no choice but ot play the hand we're dealt.

When I was having a quick brag last time, I left out an important one. Gerry was recently chosen "Parishioner of the Year" at our church. It was announced at our big annual banquet. Father Richard, our priest, said that it isn't because of Gerry's illness that he was chosen, but because of the way he is handling it, and because of the way his situation has brought the parish together, and increased everyone's prayer life.

Now that the season of Lent is upon us, the children and Gerry and I have made a commitment to have our special Bible story and prayer time every night, without fail. It is such a special time for us and the kids enjoy it very much. We all gather on my bed and read Bible stories, then we pray, thanking God for all the blessings of the day, and asking for Gerry's healing and our strength as a family to get through this. We pray to please God in the way we handle our situation. Then we pray one decade of the Rosary together. This week we've been praying the Sorrowful Mysteries of the Rosary, which begin with Christ's agony in the garden and end with the Crucifixion. Not only has this helped us all get into the proper mindset for Lent, but it has also helped us to put our own sufferings into perspective. The ritual of our nightly prayer time really calms all of us and prepares us for bed. It's a wonderful way to wind down our day together.

I'd like to encourage those of you with children to make your own nightly prayer ritual. It's a great way to teach kids gratitude for each day, to encourage them to think beyond themselves in praying for others, and to model for them your faith and values. (Not to mention it's nice and calming and settles everyone down for the night!)

Well, I guess that's all for now. I'm off to watch Little House on the Prairie with my sweet 10 year old. It's one of the few shows that we can feel good about watching together.

Love and blessings,
Laura

Tuesday, February 17, 2004 10:22 PM CST

Hello, everyone.

I'm sorry it's been so long since I posted an update.

I've now had the talk about Gerry with all three of the boys, separately. It has been interesting because they have each had very different comments, questions, and concerns. I'm very glad I made the decision to talk to each of them alone. I didn't want anyone to get bogged down in his brothers' concerns when he had his own. It's overwhelming enough as it is.

Patrick was very matter of fact about it, although he understood it, at least intellectually. He said that if Daddy dies, he doesn't want to go to the funeral, because funerals are boring. I told him we didn't have to cover that territory now. I reassured him that no matter what happens, Daddy and I love him, and that we will get through all this together. I told him we'd still live here in our house, he'd still go to his school, etc. I told him the part about how he and his brothers couldn't have made this better, nor worse - that they didn't do this. He said, "I know. God did it."

Whoa - no - I told him God didn't "do" this. He said, "But God could fix it." I told him that was right, and that we were asking God to fix it, but that just like when he asks me for things, and I can't always say yes, God doesn't always say yes, either. I asked him if he realized that if Daddy dies, he'll be gone forever. He said yes, he knew, that we wouldn't see Daddy again until we got to Heaven. Then he explained to me that it would be hard to find him, though, because it would be like a really big church with lots of people. I told him that my idea of Heaven is that it's a perfect place, and if he wanted to see his dad, he could just think it and Daddy would be right there. He liked that idea, and went off on a tangent about having powers in Heaven.

He didn't cry or get outwardly upset, but was very age appropriate in his concern about how this would affect him personally. He even asked me if I'd ever remarry! (He said he would want me to, so he could have a dad.) I don't think he was trying to be crass - he was just being six and expressing his needs as a little boy. He needs a dad in his life, and that was his way of letting me know. He will absorb the emotional impact of all this as his heart allows.

I have also talked with Jacob. He is really hard to read because he's so introspective and quiet. He asked me who was going to work now since Daddy isn't, and I explained to him about disability insurance. That was a conversation that was right up his alley, since he has always been extraordinarily interested in financial matters. Then he asked me when Daddy was going to be able to work again, and I told him that Daddy might never work again. I told him the tumor is still growing and making Daddy unable to work, and that we're trying a different chemo to try to stop the tumor, but that it might never stop. He said, "And if the tumor never stops growing, then what?"

I told him that if the tumor never stops growing, it will kill Daddy. His eyes got big and he blinked back tears, (he always fights tears,) then he shook his head and left the room. I followed him, saying we had to talk. He replied emphatically, "This conversation is over. Drop it!"

I made him come sit down and let me hold him and tell him the rest. I told him I owed him honesty about his dad, and like his brothers, he did agree with that part. He asked me if his brothers knew, and I told him they do. He asked if his teachers knew, and I said they do, and that he could talk to any of them or any other adult in his life. He asked what if he's at school when it happens, and we talked a little about that. We talked about what kind of symptoms might lead up to Gerry's death, so that he wouldn't worry that every time he stepped out the door to go to school, he might come home to horrible news.

I told him all the things I needed to him to know - about how he and his brothers couldn't have caused this, we'll still live here, we'll get through this together,...all the main points I'd made with his brothers. Jacob didn't say much. He cried a little, but fought it the whole time. I guess it went as well as it could have. I think he's being a little distant with Gerry right now. I suppose that's his way of trying to protect himself.

Meanwhile, we went to Atlanta for a long weekend because our boys had Friday and Monday off from school. We had a really nice time, as we always do. We went to Gerry's favorite Atlanta restaurant while we were there. He had a lot of very lucid time and seemed to have pretty good energy levels for most of the time we were there. I saw many glimpses of the real Gerry fighting his way to the surface. I think it was good for his brain to be back in a familiar, pleasant setting. He was pulling old knowledge and inside jokes out of his brain, and was participating in conversations. It was nice.

Gerry and I try to do some things that we consider to be brain physical therapy. I try to make him ask for things or answer questions in sentences, instead of just gesturing. We try to provide him with interesting experiences, or do things in different ways, to keep his brain active. I don't want it to get lazy - use it or lose it! Gerry has also been doing a self-designed bit of physical therapy on the numb spot on his face. I didn't even really know that, until he shared with me this weekend that the numbness is essentially gone! It's as if he has been able to retrain his brain to recognize that nerve again, or he got it to wake up, or whatever. No matter how you slice it, that is good news.

Today, Gerry has been very tired. I think the trip was fairly exhausting for him, but he spent a lot of today asleep, so maybe he will be alert and awake tomorrow.

Ok, before I go - just a couple of quick brags. Jacob has gotten a character award at school. In the midst of all of this, he is still kind and considerate and helpful to his teachers and classmates. He was chosen from all of the second graders.

Zak did a great job in the fourth and fifth grade musical, and even stepped into a small speaking part at the last minute when someone was sick. He has also been chosen to be part of the Broadcast team at school. He is on the technical team which runs the camera and computer equipment for their closed circuit TV morning announcements. He's perfect for that job.

Patrick is doing very well at school. His writing is particularly amazing to his teacher, and he totally loves reading, spelling, and math.

I think the boys are coping with all of this as well as they can. And I think everyone at their school is trying very hard to take extra special care of them. God bless them all.

Love and blessings,
Laura

Thursday, February 5, 2004 11:45 PM CST

Hello, everyone. It's time for another update!

So, this week has been much better than last week. Of course, it started out with Gerry falling, though. The majority of his tumor is in the frontal lobes, and frontal lobe injuries or tumors make people impulsive, lacking in judgement, etc. Consequently, when I told Ger to wait a minute while I got his wheelchair out of the back of the truck, he decided to get out of the truck on his own, lost his balance, and face-planted before I even knew what was happening. That was in the parking lot of the kids' school. He got a little road rash on his forehead and on his knee, but he's fine.

His face was bleeding when the kids got to the car. When we got home, Zak told me that he was upset and scared by his dad's fall, which led to a discussion which turned into "the talk." I think it went as well as could be expected. I told Zak that when his dad was in the hospital, he had his MRI early, and that it showed that the tumor was still growing. He asked me when it would stop growing, and I told him that it might not ever stop. I told him that we are going to try another chemo, and that Daddy is going to fight as hard as he can, and that we will not give up hope.

Zak said, "Why are you telling me this? I don't want to hear this! Don't tell me bad things!" I assured him that I would do anything not to have to tell him these things, but explained that he deserved honesty, and he did agree with that. I also assured him that no matter what happens, we would get through it together, and that I would help him. I told him that we will still live in our house and he will go to his school, and I will be here to take care of him. I also told him that nothing he and his brothers have ever done or not done could have caused this, nor made it worse, nor fixed it.

He would let the anguish wash over him for a minute and then push it away. He decided he wouldn't think about it, that he would pretend that it wasn't happening. I told him that was fine, but he could talk to me or his teachers or another trusted adult whenever he wanted. I know that his little mind will absorb the information in pieces, as he can handle it. He is paying a lot more attention to Gerry, and making a point to come in from school and hug him and talk to him. I know that he got the point of the conversation - to cherish our time and not take it for granted.

It wasn't as hard as I thought it might be. God's grace was with me. I haven't found the right time to talk with Jacob and Patrick yet. I guess I'll know when the time is right.

That night, I went to bed really stressed about all the practical details of all this - paperwork, financial worries, that kind of thing. I was able to fall asleep finally by reminding myself that "His eye is on the sparrow, and I know He watches over me." In fact that piece of a song has been running on my internal soundtrack ever since.

Tuesday was a whole day of God affirming that sentiment. From morning until night, He sent me messages through many different people and methods that He has it all under control, and that it will be okay. Gerry and I have both been filled with a deep peace and joy since Tuesday. We have believed since the beginning of this journey that God might let things get really bad for Gerry, but we have never lost faith that He will heal Gerry somehow, in His own time.

Some may want to say that we are in denial, but I don't believe that's the case. I will make whatever practical preparations are necessary. If I were in denial, I never would have spoken to Zak. I believe this hope and faith and peace is from God. I believe that Gerry will be healed.
If I am proven to be mistaken in the end, then I'll deal with that at the time, but now is the time for us to be steadfast in our faith.

As complicated as our life has become in terms of medication scheduling and physical therapy and doctor's appointments, etc., it has also become more simplified in some really nice ways. Often, we can be found sitting at home together, just chatting or watching TV together, and it's refreshing not to be running around all the time. I straighten up at night when everyone is safely tucked into bed. Gerry and I generally get up slowly in the mornings. What was all the rushing around we used to do? Obviously, we can live without most of it.

We did have a bit of a busy day today. Gerry had an appointment with Dr. Nabors this morning. It was just a follow up after last week's hospitalization. Gerry took his first dose of the new chemo this week, and that went well, with no side effects so far. Dr. Nabors told us this morning that Gerry's blood counts may drop in a couple of weeks because of it, and we'll just have to watch for that. This chemo is taken for one day every 6 weeks, but it takes action during all of that time. Gerry will have another MRI after 2 cycles.

After the appointment, we dropped by V&W to check on some paperwork, and then grabbed lunch in the car (there aren't many wheelchair friendly restaurants downtown,) and then went to Gerry's physical therapy appointment. It was a full day, and Gerry was so worn out he slept for 3 and a half hours this afternoon.

Speaking of sleep, I guess I should try to get some myself.
It's late, and tomorrow is... actually, tomorrow is today!
Love and blessings,
Laura

Sunday, February 1, 2004 4:49 PM CST

Hi, friends and family,

I'm Sure some of you are wondering why I haven't posted in so long. Some of you already know.

Late Tuesday night, Gerry was hospitalized. He was having hallucinations about aliens, so Dr. Nabors had me bring him to the hospital so that they could figure out which meds were causing the problem.

While we were there, they went ahead and did the MRI that they were going to do this Thursday. The news was not good. In fact, the images made me physically sick. The CPT-11 has not worked, and the tumor has grown considerably. At least I have the aliens to thank for moving us along a week ahead of schedule.

Dr. Nabors is prescribing a different chemo for us to try. It doesn't have miserable side effects, and it is another oral drug combo, so no more infusion clinic. Once the tumor is this advanced and aggressive, it is beyond difficult to get it in check again. But not impossible. That's what we're banking on. This new chemo does not help the majority of people, but for a very few, there can be a great benefit. Since it shouldn't interfere with his quality of life, we are moving forward with all the fight we have.

"If there's one chance in 500, someone's gotta be the one."
(That's one of my favorite lines from one of David Bailey's songs. He has a brain tumor, too.)

While we are NOT giving up hope, and will not give up hope as long as Gerry is still alive, we are forced to face some practical matters. I am faced with the monumentally gut-wrenching task of beginning to prepare my children for the very real possibility of their father's death. It's hard enough to see this in black and white; I have no idea how I will be able to tell them. God's grace is the only way we'll get through it. I would rather do or endure anything than have to tell my kids how terribly sick their dad is. I feel like I'll be robbing them of their inocence, a fundamental part of their childhood.

On the other hand, they absolutely deserve the truth, and the time to cherish their dad and realize that his time with them may be short so that they don't take it for granted. I have the daunting task of leaving them some hope in tact, but not overinflating that hope so that they are shocked and unprepared if he does die.

The truth is, he has been slipping away from us incrementally for a while, but more dramatically over the last few weeks. He hasn't been the husband I knew nor the father they knew for some time now. I will not give up hope that we could get him back, but I know that the odds are overwhelmingly against us, as they have been from the beginning.

I am grateful for the time that we have had already. We have essentially been on borrowed time since the beginning of all this, 18 months ago. We had about a year of relatively normal life, during which time we were able to do some things that we wouldn't have otherwise done, and which we wouldn't trade for anything. The trips we took- to Jamaica with our children, to Santa Fe by ourselves, to New York with family, and down to the beach with a group of friends, all stand out as special memories that we will cherish always.

We will continue to try to make the most of whatever time we have, as all of us should try to do. As Gerry"s brother, Paul, said in his sermon at church this weekend, "Life doesn't always make sense, but it does always have meaning. That meaning is to love and serve God and to bring others to do so as well." I couldn't agree more about life not making sense, because it makes absolutely no sense to me that Charles Manson is alive and well and living off tax payers' money in prison, while an amazing, intelligent, loving, hard-working family man like Gerry is being struck down in his prime. However, our job is to love and serve God, which we try to do directly through our worship, and also in the way we treat others around us.

Everyone wants to help, of course. Everyone wants to DO something. I understand that, because I'm like that, too, when someone I love is in crisis. There are a few things to do, but most of those are covered. What we need is a miracle, which no one but God can do for us. Everyone else can pray like crazy. I think we can all pray fervently for Gerry's complete healing, the deluxe miracle, while we also pray for strength to face the challenges ahead and grace to accept God's will. We can pray for peace and courage, especially for my children. We can pray that their faith will stand strong through this trial, and that they won't turn from God if their dad dies. We can pray for wisdom for the doctors in guiding us through this, and wisdom for me and all of our extended family, in guiding the children through this. I pray for their teachers and counselor, and principal, and Sunday School teachers, that they will all have the wisdom and grace to help them through this. There is no instruction manual for this situation.

I'll write more soon. Right now, I have to go get dinner and get my overly tired kids in bed. I will try to talk to them this week, and will probably post another update after that.

Please pray for us, and for our whole extended family.
Love and blessings,
Laura

Friday, January 23, 2004 8:22 AM CST

Hi everyone,

Gerry was able to have his infusion of chemo this Tuesday. His platelets had come up some, but not a whole lot. They are still low. "Normal" starts at 150, and his got as low as 85, but this week were up to 93. Like I said, not a huge improvement, but enough for them to treat him.

He tolerated the treatment fine. Our main problem right now is that his muscles are very weak from the steroids he's been taking for months now. Dr. Nabors decreased his dose a little, so hopefully that will help. Steroids are a two edged sword. They keep his brain from swelling, but they eat up his muscles. He fell down three times on Monday. With his platelets low, his risk of bleeding and bruising is higher, so that's not a good combo. His balance is pretty off right now as well.

We are going to physical therapy twice a week to try to improve strength and balance. He started about a week ago, so maybe it will start to help soon. Our practicing at home will make a difference, too.

I am not positive that Gerry will have the fourth dose of CPT-11 for this round at all. I have emailed Dr. Nabors about it but don't have a reply yet.

In other news, poor Zak, my almost 10 year old, was the unfortunate one to find my neighbor's dog dead yesterday in the landscape pond next door. The dog was very old, and confused, and had been missing for two days. The boys were out helping look for him when Zak saw him. He is so wise, though. He left the group of kids without mentioning it, saying he needed to go to the bathroom. Then he came and got me and we went together to tell the mom. Zak didn't want to upset the kids whose dog it was. I'm proud of the way he handled it. He was a little upset about it, but I think no one expected to find the dog alive.

I'm off to get us ready for another day. Thanks for checking on us.

Love and blessings,
Laura

Tuesday, January 13, 2004 10:00 PM CST

Hello, everyone.

It has been really hard for me to find time to write lately. I am struggling a little to get my day to day life under control. Everyone was sick last week, all at different times. Only Jacob escaped the virus.

We've added physical therapy into Gerry's regime, so that's two more appointments per week for him. Right now, Gerry is having more and more trouble getting around. He's pretty weak, and has fallen a few times, so everything we do is slow and careful. I used to take things like getting into and out of bed for granted, but not anymore. There are a lot of little movements and a lot of muscles involved in getting positioned correctly in the bed.

Gerry is hanging in there and trying to stay positive. He rests a lot, works every chance he gets, goes to lots and lots of appointments, swallows about 80 to 90 pills per day, and prays every night with the boys and me for his healing. It makes for some pretty full days.

I am hopeful that the chemo is working. I figure maybe while it's weakening him, it's also weakening the tumor. After the tumor is under control, we'll just rehab the heck out of him and build him back up. Meanwhile, we'll just try to hold our ground and go to PT to learn how to get out the front door and down the steps without busting his fanny on the front steps, or how to get him out of the floor after a fall without putting me in traction.

Another reason that I am hopeful that the chemo is actually working is that I'm not seeing any more cognitive decline. Sure, his memory and processing are not at 100%, but they seem to have leveled off and are not deteriorating further. We can rehab all that stuff later, too. If anything, his word finding seems to be less problematic, leading me to believe that his brain is already trying to work around any damaged areas.

We just have to wade through this deep water first.

Speaking of deep water, we tried to take the plunge again today. Gerry was supposed to have another chemo infusion today. It would have been his third of four in this cycle. However, Gerry's platelets were too low for him to have treatment today. They told him to come back to try again next Tuesday. Hopefully, Gerry will get back on track then.

After the last two infusions, he will have two weeks of rest, which he will definitely need. On February 5th, he will have an MRI to find out if this chemo is working. At least, I hope it will still be on February 5th. I'm not sure now with the treatment delay. On the MRI, I guess we will be looking for anything but tumor growth. Stability, shrinkage, whatever, just no growth.

The delay makes me a little nervous. I don't want the tumor to get a chance to gain ground during this hiatus. On the other hand, Gerry is pretty weak, so he does need a chance to rest and rebuild. We're not going to let this get us down. We took our day off and did some fun things - went to the book store, ate lunch, had a nice nap. Then I took Ger back to the oral surgeon for another follow up apppointment. His mouth seems to be healing, finally. It will be slow going because the chemo kills dividing cells, which are exactly what he needs in order to heal. He can do it, though.

I read a definition of hope today, and I thought it fairly accurately represented the way I feel. It's from a book called The Anatomy of Hope (I still can't make anything underlined in this journal entry screen!) by Jerome Groopman, M.D.

"Hope is the elevating feeling we experience when we see - in the mind's eye - a path to a better future. Hope acknowledges the significant obstacles and deep pitfalls along that path. True hope has no room for delusion. Clear-eyed, hope gives us the courage to confront our circumstances and the capacity to surmount them."

In my mind's eye, I can see us looking back on this whole experience, gleaning from it the lessons we were unable to fully get in the heat of the battle. I can see us working hard to get Gerry back up to speed, and I can see the boys learning and growing and gleaning their own lessons from this trial. I don't expect the path to healing to be smooth, or straight, but I do expect us to get there.

I have hope.

Love and blessings,
Laura

Friday, January 2, 2004 8:51 PM CST

Hello, everyone, and Happy New Year!

Gerry had his chemo infusion on Tuesday, as planned, and that went well. That afternoon, we saw an oral surgeon, Dr. Holmes. Dr. Holmes took a panoramic x-ray that showed Gerry's whole jaw as well as his teeth, but still could not see any obvious origin of infection - more mystery.

Dr. Holmes spoke with the nurse practitioner from Gerry's neuro-onc's office, and we all decided together that it would be good to go ahead with some in-office surgery that day. So, Dr. Holmes made an incision, cleaned the area, took a biopsy, and inserted a drain, to be removed this coming Tuesday. He said he still didn't see an obvious source for the infection, but on the bright side, the jaw bone looked good. There had been some concern that Gerry might have osteomyelitis, an infection in the bone that would be very difficult to cure. Now, that doesn't seem to be the case.

However, we won't have the biopsy results until Monday or Tuesday, so we still don't know exactly what is going on in Gerry's mouth. He is on a third, even stronger antibiotic, and is still somewhat miserable about this whole mouth situation. He doesn't have much pain, but his lip and chin are still numb, and now he has an annoying rubber drain tube stitched into his mouth, which he has managed to shred so that it's no longer a tube, yet is still attached. His mouth is full of yuck and the whole thing has gotten him down a bit.

I asked him today how he was feeling pshychologically, and he said that his mental game would improve 100% once the mouth stuff gets repaired. I only pray that this time, we will get some answers, and not more questions!

We had a very pleasant New Year's Eve with friends who live across the street from us. The four of us went to a very nice restaurant and had wonderful food in a nice atmosphere. It was a relaxing way to ring in the new year. Our children, at home with one of their favorite babysitters, fell asleep at 12:01, having barely made it to 2004 awake. When we came home, they were all piled on the couch asleep together like puppies. We took a few pictures of them and then went to bed! My back wasn't up to hauling them one by one upstairs to bed, so we covered them up and left them there.

We are currently in Atlanta visiting our "family by choice." Today we took all of the kids to their favorite park and played until dark. We all had fun, throwing the football, playing chase, and generally making ourselves very tired.

My boys are certainly learning that they aren't the center of the universe lately. They don't always like it that Daddy's needs take up so much of my time, but they do understand it. They help a lot and are really caring and considerate young men.

I will write more after we know more about the pathology results from Gerry's mouth. Hopefully that will be Monday. As far as I know, Gerry will still have his second infusion of CPT-11 on Tuesday morning, so we will again be up and out at the undeniably ugly hour of 6:30 am.

Right now, I'm off to play Scrabble with my friends!

Love and blessings,
Laura

Monday, December 29, 2003 8:04 PM CST

Happy Holidays, everyone!

We are now finished with our two weeks of Christmas celebrations, and are trying to slow down to enjoy what's left of the kids' holiday from school. Today, I took them to paint pottery at one of those paint it yourself places. They enjoyed that.

So, on to the saga of Ger's mouth. When last I left you, we had been to the endodontist, who had found nothing specific and put Gerry on an antibiotic. By last Monday, (ok, disclaimer - this is going to get a little gross)there was an area in his mouth that was beginning to "drain." So we went back to the endodontist, thinking that now, surely, he could find the problem if it had gotten bad enough for the infection to begin coming out.

Sadly, many more x-rays and weird tests later, we still had no answers. In typical overachieving fashion, Gerry has managed to get something going on with his mouth that defies diagnosis or explanation. The endodontist, Dr. Smith, put Gerry on a second, stronger antibiotic to patch him up through Christmas, and said he should think about getting another opinion.

Our regular dentist recommended another endodontist, also named Smith. Today, we say Dr. Smith2. He had more high tech equipment. He x-rayed. He poked around. He x-rayed some more. He asked questions. He put a probe into the drain site to try to trace it to its origin. He x-rayed some more, all the while trying to figure out the source of the infection. Bottom line - it does not seem to be an abcessed tooth. It does not seem to be a problem with the gums. The path of the infection, when traced by sticking a little metal probe into the hole where the infection has been draining, seems to run parallel to the jaw, but not down to the root of a tooth.

So we don't yet know what it is, but we know a few more things that it isn't. Dr. Smith2 recommeded that Gerry see an oral surgeon tomorrow for a consultation, who will then probably recommend exploratory surgery to figure out where the infection is starting and why. Right now, it's a big mystery, and Dr. Smith2 would not even specualate as to what the problem could be.

On the positive side, since the drainage began, Gerry hasn't had much pain from the teeth. The numbness is still present, though.

Tomorrow, Gerry will begin another round of CPT-11 infusions. Hopefully, we will begin seeing some results some time during this round. We have to be downtown at 6:30 am for the labwork. The infusion is at 7:30, and then Gerry has the appointment with the oral surgeon at 3:00pm. It will be an early morning (something I HATE) and a long day.

But we're here, and we've made it this far, and Gerry is strong enough to start chemo infusions again, so there are lots of things for which to be grateful.

I will try to find time tomorrow or the next day to give another update. Until then, thanks for checking on us!

Love and blessings,
Laura

Tuesday, December 16, 2003 9:52 PM CST

Hello, friends and family,

This is another quick update to tide us all over until I have time to write more. Very soon, I'd like to provide an update that gives all of you a glimpse into a "day in the life" of our family. It's never dull...

Anyway, as I struggle to try to finish any Christmas preparations that need finishing before my children get out of school Friday, Gerry continues to struggle with one strange malady after another.

On the positive side, there are several points:

He hasn't been hospitalized for anything in more than two weeks.

His knees, which had been bothering him terribly and becoming more and more painful, have improved greatly.

His elbow, which he rug burned severely in what he calls a "lesson in humility," is finally healing. (He was hurrying after one of the kids and tripped over another one of them!)

He hasn't had any more seizures.

The latest herbs and mushroom extracts that his Oriental Medicine doctor sent, along with the resuming of his trips to our Network Chiropractor, seem to be helping him in many areas.

On the negative side, however, Gerry has developed a strange toothache that is a painful puzzle. His tooth began to hurt late last week, and continued to worsen throughout the weekend. Yesterday, I took him to our dentists, (a fabulous husband and wife team,) who could find nothing on the x-rays and nothing definite upon examination.

Their thought was that he may have a tooth with a tiny crack in it, and it will either get better on its own, or get worse to the point that we can tell what's happening. Last night, he took a pain pill, and before too long, the part of his face from the middle of his bottom lip down to his chin and over to the edge of his mouth was numb. It is still numb now.

This morning, I called his neuro-onc's nurse practitioner, and our dentists. The nurse practitioner said that if the numbness were due to tumor, which was my first thought/fear, then the numbness wouldn't be confined to that small half of his chin. If it were a reaction to the pain med, it would have gone away when the medicine wore off. That left a tooth problem as the only answer.

Our dentists referred him to an endodontist, and we saw him this afternoon. He examined Ger, took his own x-rays, and still couldn't find a definite answer. He tapped several teeth, exposed them to cold, then to hot, all in an effort to isloate and discover the problem. Four teeth seem to be painful, and this endodontist said that to do anything like a root canal at this point would be guessing.

His theory is that Gerry could have a tooth with a small crack into which some bacteria have gotten and set up an infection. He put Gerry on six days of antibiotics to see if that helps. On the bright side, the dentists, endodontist, and neuro-oncologist are all working together and communicating about all of this. Hopefully, someone will figure it out and help him. We need for the situation to get better or worse, so we can find an answer. Right now, as painful as it is for Gerry, the situation isn't acute enough to point in a clear direction.

So, poor guy, he's suffering and hitting the pain pills again.

Well, I have to run. I want to get my details done so that when my children are out of school, we can enjoy spending time together instead of running around finishing things. I don't feel like I've been able to give them much attention lately. Mommy guilt...it's a powerful force!

Thanks for the prayers! Keep 'em coming!

Love and blessings,
Laura

Monday, December 15, 2003 8:56 AM CST

Hi all,

I just have about 30 seconds to jot a quick update.

No news is good news - i.e. nothing exciting and dramatic has happened since my last post. Yeah! Also, it's Monday and Gerry is NOT in the hospital! Maybe we've broken our every-other-Monday-admission cycle at last.

I will write a better, more detailed update later, but I just wanted to chime in and say that we are doing fairly well, and Gerry has had no more seizures.

Thanks you for your prayers, and for signing in to tell us you're praying for us. Keep on praying!

Love and blessings,
Laura

Friday, December 5, 2003 5:38 PM CST

Hello, everyone.

It has been a very eventful and busy week around here, so I'm just now getting a chance to post an update.

On Tuesday afternoon, Gerry had his PICC line and Greenfield filter placed. For me, it was a long afternoon of waiting because they came and took him from the room at 2:30 and he wasn't returned to me until 5:45. Everything went smoothly, and he was released from the hospital on Tuesday night. We arrived home at about midnight, at which point we were grateful to be able to sleep in our own bed.

Wednesday we hung around the house, I tried to get some things straightened, do laundry, etc., and we waited for the Home Health nurse to come and show me how to take care of Gerry's PICC line. PICC stands for Peripherally Inserted Central veinous Catheter. It needs to be flushed with Heparin every day so it doesn't clot, and the dressing must be changed once a week, or when it gets wet.
The nurse came in the afternoon, and I think I've got the hang of it.

Yesterday was Gerry's fourth infusion of CPT-11, so now he will have two weeks off from infusions. (Meanwhile he is on a dose escalation schedule with Tamoxifen to work up to the therapeutic range.) Anyhow, the infusion went well, and we were able to go grab some lunch afterward and get home in time for a nap. I actually got to sleep for an hour before I had to get the boys. That was important since I'd been awake since 5:00am to get us to the infusion on time. Getting out of the house in a timely fashion just doesn't happen around here anymore. Everything's too complicated. Gerry and I even came up with a mathematical equation to express the situation.

X = Y + 30 min.

where X is the amount of time Gerry needs in order to get ready to go and
Y is the amount of time I allot for him to get ready.

No matter what the value of Y, X is always equal to Y + 30 minutes. So that's why we're never on time anymore. We try to laugh about it, because there is no good solution.

Anyway, this morning Gerry was going to try to go to work. We had a plan for trying to get out of the house in less than 3 hours, and I was going to take him to work for a little while before we ran an errand or two and came home to rest. That plan was thwarted for in several ways.

First, my youngest, Patrick, who has been having fairly bad headaches for about two months now, woke up feeling poorly and wanted to stay home from school. (Sideline on Patrick - he's had a CAT scan which was clear, and we've been to a pediatric neurologist. He has Patrick on a special diet and a vitamin B2 supplement to try to stop his headaches.)

So Gerry and I decided to go back to sleep for a little while after I took the other boys to school, and then we'd wake up and see how Patrick was feeling to decide what to do with the rest of the day. At about 9:15am, I awoke to the bed shaking. Gerry was having another seizure. I sat with him and talked to him until it was over, and then called the doctor. Boy, I will never get used to seeing that. It stinks. His anti-seizure meds have been increased, so we'll see how that works. This one may have been a little shorter than the last one, but it's really hard to say. It's so traumatic for me to watch that I don't have a very accurate concept of the time it takes. It was less than a minute, though.

Also, at least he was in the bed already this time, so I didn't have to worry that he had hurt himself falling, and I didn't have to subsequently get him out of the floor. Plus, Patrick didn't see it, which is also a blessing. Gerry recovered more quickly this time, and after a nap, was ready to get up and move around. He wanted to go out to lunch, and since we are determined not to let this disease rule every aspect of our lives, I agreed. After all, people with other seizure disorders go out in public and live their lives.

I'll refer you to the equation above to explain why we didn't leave the house for "lunch" until 2:30pm! Oh, well. I had wrapped Gerry's arm to keep it dry while he showered, but I didn't do a good enough job and his PICC dressing got wet. So I had to change the entire dressing, which goes slowly for me because I'm still new at it. Then I flushed the line and then we were FINALLY ready to go!

Never a dull moment...

That has become my mantra lately.

Right now, as you can tell, our daily lives are filled with a lot of medical mumbo jumbo and managing little crises as they come along. Sometimes I feel stretched so thin I think I'm going to break. But then I remember to be thankful that I'm physically and mentally and spiritually able to take care of my family. I remember to be thankful for all the people who help us all the time - with errands, with the kids, with meals, with home projects - and I know that I am truly blessed. It is my privelege and (most of the time) my joy to take care of Gerry and the boys and our home. It just gets a little exhausting sometimes.

My friends from my Bible study sent over a "Spiritual Bouquet" which is a basket of blessings. It is filled with sweet notes and each person's favorite topical scripture quote. It has promises to pray for us, and offer rosaries and holy hours of adoration for us, and it contains gift certicates for all kinds of stores, delivery places, and fun things to do with our kids. Not only did my friends plan and gather all of those things, but they took the time to make the basket pretty and girlie, with little ribbons on each card. It was such a treat and one of the most thoughtful things anyone has ever done for us. We know some amazing people.

So even though we've experienced so many bumps in the road lately we feel like we're off-roading, we keep our heads high and keep on keepin' on. We still believe that Gerry can beat this, and we are determined to do everything we know how to do to make that happen. That includes staying positive and strong in general. Not that we never get down, or afraid, or discouraged, or overwhelmed, but we pick up, dust off, and keep moving forward. Any day we're together is a good day, and we thank God every night, as a family, for another day together.

This is our life and we're going to live it. Period.

Love and blessings,
Laura

Monday, December 1, 2003 10:32 PM CST

The Kimes Family saga continues...

In the "never a dull moment" category, we are back in the hospital! That's right, every other Monday for the past five weeks, Gerry has been admitted to the hospital. It wasn't planned that way; it has just worked out that he's been in 3 times in the last 5 weeks.

So here's what happened this time. Brain tumor patients have an increased risk of getting blood clots. (I'm not sure why..) One of the drugs Gerry is about to begin taking (to add to his chemo cocktail) also carries an increased risk of blood clots. So Gerry was to go in this morning for an ultrasound of his legs, to get a baseline. It was supposed to be a very quick, outpatient test.

What was found was a blood clot behind his left knee. The doctor thinks it is an old clot, but that doesn't mean it isn't dangerous. The danger is that it could break free and travel to his lungs, where it could kill him before we could do anything about it.

To prevent that from happening, Dr. Nabors had him admitted to the hospital so that he can have a Greenfield filter installed. That will happen tomorrow. How does it work? There is a very large vein in each leg, situated adjacent to the large artery in each leg. Those veins come together in the abdomen at the inferior vena cava. The docs will insert a catheter into the vein in one of his legs and feed the filter through it until it is at the inferior vena cava, where it will be deployed. The filter looks like a teepee - it is six little titanium wires joined together at the top.

The filter will let blood flow through, but will catch and hold any blood clots that may form and break free, headed for his heart and then his lungs. The clots will hang out in the filter until the body reabsorbs them. It is a permanent device, and never needs any maintenance or adjustment. We have already heard from many friends that their loved ones have these filters and have done extremely well with them.

I'm glad that this problem was found and will be so easily fixed. This particular clot may have had nothing to do with his tumor, but could have broken free and harmed him if not found. We should get out of here late tomorrow (Tuesday,) or maybe Wednesday.

Also while Gerry is in here, he is going to have a PICC line installed. That is a long, soft flexible silicone catheter which will be placed into one of the large veins in the bend of his elbow. It will be threaded up to a large blood vessel that leads to his heart. The outside part, at the crook of his arm, is secured. This will allow his medications, especially his chemo infusions, to be administered much more easily. He won't have to be stuck each time. Plus, since the blood flow is so rapid that close to his heart, the vein will not be irritated by the meds.

Gerry's next chemo infusion is this Thursday, and Dr. Nabors fully expects that Gerry will be able to have it as planned. This quickie hospital stay is just another little hitch, but shouldn't be anything too major.

Shifting gears for a second...

We have begun praying together as a family again, before bedtime. We began when Gerry was first diagnosed, but it fell by the wayside until recently. We are enjoying it. It is a sweet family time together, and a great way to end the day. We pray for Gerry, and visualize him getting better, and then say a decade of the rosary together. I'm glad that we are able to come together as a family and grow closer to one another and closer in our relationship to God through this trial. I think that's one of the lessons this disease has for our family.

Gerry has begun to get the impression of a lesson for him in all of this, too, but I'll leave that for him to share later if he chooses. (He's asleep right now!)

Anyway, I'm getting bleary-eyed, so I guess I'll try to figure out how to get comfortable in the chair/cot contraption, and get some sleep.

Love and blessings to you all,
Laura

Monday, November 24, 2003 4:03 PM CST

Hello, everyone.

It has now been a week since the seizure, and Gerry hasn't had any more, thank goodness. I guess the anti-seizure medication is working.

Gerry has slept a lot this week, sometimes as much as 20 hours a day. According to Dr. Nabors, that is probably partially due to the tumor itself, partially due to the seizure, and partially due to the anti-seizure medication. He says we should begin to be able to separate out what is meds and what is tumor in the next week or so, and we may be able to adjust the meds a little. Gerry has begun to come out of the fog some as the week has passed. He's still very tired, and his thinking is somewhat muddled at times, but I am seeing some improvement.

His poor body has had so much to absorb lately. His tumor is growing, so that's taxing in its own way, and then he started a completely new chemo regimen, then he had the seizure, which is a huge electrical storm in his body, and now he must adjust to anti-seizure medication. No wonder he's tired! I think of his sleeping times as healing times. His body is at rest so that it can expend energy coping with all that has happened and is happening to him.

We've been fairly reclusive this week, except for going to his chemo infusion on Thursday. That went smoothly. Gerry also went to his qi gong class at his kung fu school on Wednesday morning. The Blue Dragon is great in that each student is encouraged to adapt the class to his abilities as of that particular day. So, Gerry went and participated sitting down and enjoyed it.

He is scheduled for his next chemo infusion on Wednesday, the day before Thanksgiving. This will be his third infusion, and we've been told that the third or fourth infusion is sometimes when the side effects appear. We're hoping that won't be a problem for Gerry, and that he will still feel like having Thanksgiving with his family.

We have all kinds of help right now, for which we are truly grateful. With Gerry really not able to be alone, and still very tired, even going to the grocery store can be a challenge. We are blessed to have so many loving people in our lives who are willing to do those kinds of things and run errands for us.

I guess that's the update for now. I've been too busy around here to update before now. Caring for Gerry plus managing the house and the kids has kept me swamped. I'll update as often as I can!

We really need this chemo to work, and to work fast. Please keep praying hard!

Love and blessings,
Laura

Wednesday, November 19, 2003 1:20 AM CST

Hello everyone.

I don't know about you guys, but I'm sick of the drama around here! Never a dull moment lately...biopsy, tumor growth, new chemo, and now this.

In the wee hours of the morning on Monday morning, Gerry had a seizure. At 1:55am, I awoke to some gutteral noise from Gerry. I thought he might be getting sick, so I asked him if he was ok. He was standing between the foot of our bed and our bathroom, but the room was dark, so I couldn't tell what was happening. When I spoke to him, he made another noise as if to answer me, and then he just crumpled to the floor.

I sprang out of bed and turned on the light, at which point I saw that he was having a grand mal seizure. He's never had one, and I've never seen one except on TV. The only way I can describe it is truly horrifying. That image is with me whenever I close my eyes.

I immediately became unnaturally calm, (God's grace - thank you to all of you who pray for that for me) and moved some things out of his way, then sat and talked to him and touched him while he seized. I told him everything would be ok, that I was there with him, etc.

The seizure lasted about 20 or 30 seconds (YEARS) and then he was somewhere between conscious and unconscious. I called his parents, who live very close, and simply said, "I need you here, NOW." Gerry's mom said "OK" and hung up. Then I called 911. Meanwhile I was getting dressed, checking on Gerry, and talking to the 911 operator. Gerry was snoring, eyes wide open and staring, and unresponsive.

When I let the firemen in, who were here very quickly, our dog went ballistic, barking and backing away. Before I could get him stashed in the basement, he and the firemen tromping upstairs had awakened the kids. I think Patrick never fully awoke and went right back to sleep. Zak and Jacob were wide awake, though. They were scared and confused and calling to me - I was trying to reassure them, checking on Gerry, and answering questions from the fire and rescue guys. Meanwhile, Gerry's parents arrived. I know the boys were very happy to see Gerry's mom, Sittie, who went in and sat with them and loved on them.

The rescue guys checked Gerry out, who was beginning to respond more and more, and then called for an ambulance. I had gotten in touch with Gerry's neuro-oncologist, and went back to reassure the boys once more and say goodbye. Gerry's parents stayed with the boys while I rode along in the ambulance. I briefly told the boys that Daddy'd had a seizure, which happens with brain tumors, and that we were going to the hospital for a day or two to get him some medicine to control seizures. I think at that point, Zak had gotten a notebook and was enlisting Sittie's assistance in recording the details of what was happening. He and Jacob were also interested in watching out the window as Gerry was loaded into the ambulance.

My parents and my friend Pat met me at the ER.
At the hospital, Gerry was admitted, filled with anti-seizure medication, had an EEG, and was observed for about 36 hours. He was released about noon on Tuesday.

Dr. Nabors says that 30-40f brain tumor patients will have at least one seizure at some point. They are controlled by medication, and Gerry should be able to continue his chemo as planned. He has to be kept fairly quiet this week, and he cannot drive (by law now) for at least 6 months. (I know that makes those of you who live and drive in Birmingham feel a little better!) Also, for a week or so, he cannot be alone, in case of another seizure. It may take some tweaking to get the medication just right so that he won't have any more seizures.

I've talked to the boys and warned them that it could possibly happen again, but I've told them that we probably won't have to call 911 again. After the first seizure, we only have to call 911 if one lasts for more than 5 minutes or if he has more than one in rapid succession. I told them that even though it looks very scary at the time, it doesn't hurt Daddy or leave him damaged in any way. We just have to keep his head safe and turn him on his side so his airway stays clear. I've told them that if that should happen, they can leave and go love on each other and on Scout until it's over.

I don't know how else to help them, but I am doing my best to keep them out of the house in the afternoons in the hopes that if he does have another one, they won't be here for it. That thought actually seems to make Zak uncomfortable. He says I need to call him right away if it happens again, because he's concerned about his dad. Anyway, the boys are going to 3 different friends' houses after school Wednesday. I like to give them a break from each other as well as from our whole situation. It also keeps the house a little quieter in the afternoons for Gerry, who still has an extremely low chaos threshold and is periodically somewhat confused.

I'm flying without a net in trying to help the kids deal with all of this, and I'm doing so without my parenting partner. I think it's just another bump in the road, and that things will settle down again. We simply need to adjust to another new normal. I've already begun moving things out of our bedroom to give Gerry clearer paths to walk. What I really need to do is get my newly found de-cluttering guru to come back and help me some more. She and I worked miracles on our home office last week (clearthenoise.com). I have some other projects around here that I'll set in motion over the next few days.

Gerry will still have his next chemo infusion on Thursday morning at 7:30am, so I would love to know that you guys will pray especially hard then. We need super potency without super toxicity. We need strength and courage, and a super-charged immune system. We need wisdom to make good choices in treatment, and to know how to help our children. We need a whole lot of God.

Thanks for checking on us.

Love and blessings,
Laura

Saturday, November 15, 2003 10:44 PM CST

Hello, everyone.

Gerry had his first chemo infusion on Thursday, and it went smoothly. The appointment was originally scheduled for 7:30 am, but was changed to 2:00 pm because of overbooking. We finished at about 5:30 pm, so the whole process took about 3 and a half hours (including almost an hour in the waiting room first.)

We didn't watch any movies this time, unless you count the little "Introduction to Chemotherapy" video we were required to watch first. Gerry was tired, so we read a little and he dozed a little.

So far, he has not been sick, thank goodness. He's tired, and a little foggy, but that's about all for now. The effects will build as he has the next few infusions, so he could be sick next time or the time after, but we'll just cross that bridge when or if we come to it.

We went out tonight with some old friends to dinner and a one man comedy show at the local library. It was a lot of fun, and it felt great to just laugh and forget about everything for a while. We had gotten to the point this past year where we didn't think about Gerry's brain cancer all the time. In fact, we rarely thought about it between doctor visits. Now I feel like I'm walking around with that cloud over me all the time again, and it's a rare thing to escape it for a while.

A very dear friend recently told me that if I felt like I was losing faith, she'd keep it for me for a while so I'd know right where to find it again. I thought that was a wonderful way to express that sentiment. I'm trying very hard not to lose faith, though. I was pondering the concept of borrowed time, and the phrase about "prolonging life." I remember when Gerry was first diagnosed, some doctor said something about just trying to prolong Gerry's life as much as we could. At first that made me really sad to hear it in those words, but then I thought, wait a minute. Aren't we all just trying to prolong our lives as much as we can? I mean, that IS life, right?

So we live. We go through another day, trying hard not to waste it worrying how many more there will be. Some days we're more successful in that endeavor than others. It's hard to live solely in the now. I really don't have regrets about the past, but it's a challenge not to fret about the future.

People say to us, "I don't know how you do it." I guess "it" is live our lives with this hanging over us. But what choice do we have? If we lie around and cry, then what good is that? If I get hit by a truck tomorrow, do I want my last day on Earth to have been spent wallowing in self pity and fear? Do I want my children to have memories of Mommy spending days in bed? No way. That alone is enough to get me out of bed in the morning.

We put one foot in front of the other. We wait for our miracle, sometimes patiently, sometimes not. I asked God the other day if he was going to have Gerry fail all the treatments and THEN heal him. I told Him that if that were the case, then I might need a little extra sprinkle of faith and patience to endure that. I never got a good answer from Him. God's a cagey conversationalist.

Keep praying for us. Maybe He'll answer one of you guys. (If He does, give us a call!)

Thanks for your love and support.
Love and blessings,
Laura

Tuesday, November 11, 2003 7:55 PM CST

Hi, friends and family.

We met with Dr. Nabors on Monday to get the rest of the details on Gerry's new chemo. He will begin CPT-11 this Thursday. The infusion itself takes 90 minutes, and he has to have labwork first, then anti-nausea meds, then at the end there is a one hour observation period. His infusion is supposed to start at 7:30am, so since he has to go to the lab first, we're going to try to be there by 7:00. We figure the whole process will take about half the day.

So, that will be our new movie viewing time. If we have to be there sitting around waiting for an IV to drip, then we may as well make the most of it. We plan to rent DVDs each week and bring the laptop to watch them. Gerry will have the weekly infusion for four consecutive weeks, and then have two weeks off for rest. We should be able to watch quite a few DVDs in all that time!

Fortunately, Gerry is not expected to have horrible side effects with this drug. Some people have some side effects, but they tend to be manageable. There are other things that can be added to his regimen which don't add toxicity but which could offer some benefit, so we will probably be adding those along the way. The first of those substances is Celebrex, which Dr. Nabors already prescribed and Gerry has already begun taking. We want to be as aggressive as possible without killing him with the treatments!

We are also working with Dr. Nabors and Dr. Bai, Gerry's Oriental Medicine Doctor, to do whatever we can to boost Gerry's own immunity to fight this thing.

It's a bit disappointing to have spent a year fighting and then wind up right back where we started, but that's where we are, so we just have to deal with it. We're still heavily in the market for a miracle, if anyone has an extra one lying around...

Gerry is feeling alright these days and still recovering from the biopsy. His main hitch is fatigue, but afternoon naps are always a good way to combat that!

Maybe this recurrence will push us to find some strange combination of treatments that cures this thing for good. Gerry could be the one - why not? Someone will be, eventually. Where there is life, there's hope, so as long as he's still here, I'll keep holding out for our miracle. I have to - it's the only way I can function.

I guess that's all I have to report for now. We'll update again later in the week to let you know how the chemo goes. We appreciate your prayers, especially for healing, but also for guidance, and peace, and strength, and faith, and patience, and grace. A few extra prayers to combat Gerry's anxiety on Thursday morning would also be helpful.

Love and blessings,
Laura

Thursday, November 6, 2003 0:29 AM CST

Hello, friends and family.

I'm sure that everyone is ready for news from Gerry's recent hospital fun.

Gerry's biopsy was Monday at around 2pm. He did well, and spent the night in the ICU, as a matter of routine caution. I spent the night in the lobby, watching DVDs on our laptop, as a matter of routine discomfort.

Gerry was released on Tuesday at about 6pm, and at that time, we were given the results of the biopsy by the neurosurgeon. The result was not what we had hoped.

The tumor is progressing, and is transforming to a higher grade. Now it is at least a grade 3 (out of 4). It started out a grade 2 last year.

Our fabuolous neuro-oncologist, Dr. Nabors, called us at 6pm tonight to give us more information and answer some of our questions. He will be out of town for the next two days, so we can't see him until Monday. He knew we'd need information and have questions, so he took the time to call us tonight.

Surgery has never been and will never be an option for Gerry. His tumor is too spread out. Radiation has been exhausted. So that just leaves chemotherapy for now. The chemo that Ger was taking, Temodar, has done all that it can for Gerry, and is now failing to keep the tumor at bay. That can happen - tumors become resistant to drugs, or certain parts of tumors never respond to certain drugs in the first place.

Temodar and radiation did kill a huge portion of the tumor, but there are foci which are resistant which have to be addressed. These spots, or foci, of resistant tumor are mad now, and are more aggressive. (You've heard the phrase "That which doesn't kill us makes us stronger" - I guess it applies to tumor cells also!)

So, there are fewer tumor cells, but they're pretty bad guys. Gerry will need to switch to a different chemo to try to kill these cells. The previous drug, Temodar, was an alkylating agent. The next drug will work in a totally different way. It is a DNA topoisomerase inhibitor. It keeps the tumor cell's DNA from rejoining after dividing to make a new cell. (I'm sure I'm not doing a great job of explaining that - look it up on the net if you really want more info!) Anyway, I explain that (poorly) in order to say that it's not that one drug is more or less strong than the other. They just work differently. We've killed what we can with the axe, so now we're going to try the baseball bat.

The drug that Gerry will probably start next week is called CPT-11. Instead of being orally administered, like the Temodar was, CPT-11 is administered through a one hour infusion, once a week. This is done for four weeks in a row, and then he will have two weeks off. That makes for a six week cycle. It can take one or two full cycles for the drug to start really making a big difference, so Gerry may get a little worse before he gets better.

The side effects of this drug are not bad. He isn't expected to get nauseous, nor should his blood counts suffer. Later, we may add other drugs to the mix which don't add toxicity, but which offer some synergistic effectiveness.

So, since Gerry has beaten the odds thus far, we are going to assume that he will continue to do so. Why should we believe otherwise? I refuse to entertain the idea that Gerry and I will not grow old and cranky together. God will just have to do His part to make sure that happens.

We're taking things one day at a time, and are appreciating your support, and prayers, and other help.

Thank you for checking on us.

Love and blessings,
Laura

Thursday, October 30, 2003 7:55 PM CST

Hello, friends and family.

Boy, we had a long, exhausting day playing the "hurry up and wait" game at the Kirklin Clinic today! Those of you who have played that game know what fun it can be!

Our appointment this morning was at 8:50 am, but we didn't see Dr. Guthrie until 10:50 am. That's how it is sometimes in the ugly world of neuro-oncology and neurosurgery. I figure on any given day, they are having the unenviable task of yanking the rug out from under someone, and that someone probably has (understandably) a million questions. I've been the one falling off that rug, and I've asked my questions and had them patiently and kindly answered, so I really don't begrudge anyone the right to take up a good chunk of the doctors' time. It just makes for a long wait sometimes for those of us who are currently less urgent.

Dr. Guthrie seemed like a nice guy, who knows his stuff inside and out, and is interested in getting Gerry through this as quickly, safely, and painlessly as possible. We can certainly get behind that.

After talking with Dr. Guthrie and having our questions answered, we talked to another doctor and filled out more paperwork. Then we were sent to pre-admit (at about 12:15) to fill out more paperwork and talk with the anesthesiologist, get the pre-op instructions, etc. Then, we were off to the lab for the pre-op bloodwork, and last, but not least, to the patient services area to pre-pay our deductible and get our insurance ducks in a row.

We left at about 1:20 pm, starving, anxious to leave the cold, fluorescent-lit gauntlet of pre-admissions and get out into the sunshine in search of lunch.

So, what did we learn today? We are to report to the hospital on Monday morning at 5:30 am. Those of you who know me well will know the extreme dislike I have for that hour of the day! Anyway, if nothing goes wrong, Gerry will be released sometime on Tuesday. We will probably not know any results of the biopsy until Wednesday or Thursday. More "hurry up and wait."

We haven't told our kids any of this. We'll do that on Saturday, so as not to detract from Halloween. We want them to have enough time to absorb the information and ask questions, but not a whole lot of time to get stressed about it. It's always kind of a balancing act with kids, and we just have to try and find our way with them as we go along.

I guess that's about all for today. A big thanks goes out to everyone who has offered to help out during all this. We are so thankful to have such support!

Gerry is feeling well, and is not terribly anxious about this anymore. He feels certain that this time will be smoother and less painful than last time. I will make sure of that, or die trying!

Meanwhile, we're not going to spend a lot of time worrying about all of this. We have a fairly low-key, fun weekend planned with our boys - maybe some time at the park, a date for Gerry and me, etc. We will keep praying for our miracle and trying to accept it in God's time.

Thanks for being with us!

Love and blessings,
Laura

Monday, October 27, 2003 3:59 PM CST

Hi, everyone.

Gerry has an appointment with Dr. Guthrie, the neurosurgeon, on Thursday, Oct. 30. We will be discussing Gerry's situation and his upcoming biopsy.

We are under the impression that they will want to schedule the biopsy for the following day, but we will be asking to put it off because of Halloween. We want the boys to have a normal Halloween - not one where Daddy is in the hospital and someone else takes them to trick-or-treat.

So I assume the biopsy will probably be Monday or Tuesday.

We will update again after Thursday's appointment.

Thanks for praying for us!

Love and blessings,
Laura

Tuesday, October 21, 2003 4:07 PM CDT

Hello, everyone.

Well, Gerry had an MRI yesterday, and the news was not exactly what we had hoped it would be. However, it wasn't entirely unexpected, either.

The unusual area that appeared on the MRI in September, and which led to the PET scan, is now larger. Even though the PET scan was consistent with dead tissue, and we have been operating under that assumption, the PET scan is not infallible.

Dr. Nabors says that since the suspicious area is larger, he is increasingly uneasy about it. One option is to keep on doing the same things we've been doing, (the steroids, the same chemo), and wait to see if things get worse on the MRI or clinically. However, if we wait until something like that happens, then we're already behind in the game by the time we figure out the tumor is growing. So, right now, it seems that our best option is for Gerry to undergo another biopsy.

It will be the same kind of biopsy as last time, a stereotactic biopsy. That means that Gerry will undergo one procedure to screw a 360 degree metal frame into his head. Then, he will have a CAT scan which will allow the doctors and computers to map out exactly where to biopsy in relation to the frame. After that, the surgeon, with the help of the computer, will drill a hole in his head and take out a pice of tissue the size of the head of a needle. It will take 24 to 48 hours to get the results from the pathologist.

God willing, all of this will prove that what we're seeing on the MRI is indeed necrosis. If it should prove to be new tumor growth, then we will have to evaluate our different chemo choices with Dr. Nabors, since that will mean that the Temodar is no longer working. We aren't going to worry about that yet, though. We're going to take this one step at a time.

Gerry is not excited about the prospect of more drilling into his head, naturally, but he did pretty much know this was coming. That does help. He says that since they obviously didn't let all the evil spirits out last time, they have to do it again!

The time line for all of this is still somewhat unknown to us. I was waiting to put this update on today, hoping to hear something, but I didn't. We will have an appointment with the neurosurgeon to discuss all of this, and then the biopsy could be scheduled for as soon as the next day. What we don't know right now is when the neurosurgeon appointment is, but we think it will be next week. We will, of course, post that update here when we know.

Please say some extra prayers for us right now, especially for Gerry. This procedure is fairly painful and Gerry knows that ahead of time this time, so his anxiety level is pretty high. The steroids he is already on are no picnic, either, bringing with them their own set of side effects. To put it mildly, this is all one big yuck!

We pray for the grace and strength to bear this latest trial in a way that is pleasing to God.

Thank you all for your prayers and support.

Love and blessings,
Laura

Thursday, October 16, 2003 2:11 PM CDT

Hi everyone,

I thought I'd jot a quick update. Gerry is still on the Decadron (steroid) to ease the swelling in his head. He hasn't had any more problems with his legs, and he hasn't had any more severe headaches.

He still isn't driving, so I am still driving Miss Daisy, as we like to say. Gerry's next doctor's appointment and MRI are Monday, October 20th. We may have a little better idea of what is going on inside his head after that.

Gerry may be released to drive again after that, or maybe not. I don't know.

I guess that's about it. We'll just keep on keepin' on and see what comes.

Thanks for checking on us!
Love and blessings,
Laura

Thursday, October 2, 2003 3:36 PM CDT

Hello, friends and family,

I thought I'd give an update on some things that have been going on with us lately.

Around the time of the PET scan, Gerry was beginning to experience intermittant weakness in his left arm and leg. When we saw Dr. Nabors, we discussed it with him, and based on the two times it had happened at that point, Dr. Nabors thought it was not caused by the tumor. He suggested that maybe Gerry had some kind of pinched nerve or disc problem going on in his neck.

Gerry had also had a few headaches at that point, but they were usually right before he ate, and went away with eating and/or taking Advil. So, we thought those might be low blood sugar headaches.

Then the weakness began to increase in frequency and severity. Over the course of last weekend, the headaches became worse, the weakness became much worse, and I noticed that Gerry was no longer driving well.

On Monday, I called Dr. Nabors' nurse practitioner and also emailed Dr. Nabors, telling them of my concerns. I was becoming very worried at that point. My biggest fear was that the PET scan had given us a false negative, which can happen, and that the tumor was beginning to grow rapidly.

The nurse called me after talking with Dr. Nabors and told me that Dr. Nabors believes that there is swelling going on as a result of the dead tissue. The dead tissue, or necrosis, can cause the same types of symptoms as the tumor.

So, Gerry is back on the steroid Decadron to reduce the swelling, and he can't drive right now. This will continue at least until his next appointment and MRI on October 20. At that time, we will all re-evaluate the situation. His body will eventually reabsorb the swelling and necrosis, but there is no way to tell how long that will take. If his symptoms are all gone and the spots on the MRI look the same or better, then we may be able to taper him of the steroids again and put him back behind the wheel.

If the spots look worse, or the symptoms are still a problem, he may be headed for another biopsy. A false negative from the PET scan, although unlikely, is still a possibility. So if things still look suspicious, he will need another biopsy to confirm that we are really dealing with dead tissue. If the tumor is growing, we need to know so that he can switch to a different chemotherapy.

That scenario is not a fun one, so we're just going to pray that the symptoms and spots are better or at least stable next time, and that this is just another bump in the road to recovery. The prospect of another biopsy is stressful to us, but especially to Gerry, who would have the giant metal frame screwed into his head again. Yuck.

I'm guessing that since his tumor was so large in the first place, and the area of dead tissue we've been talking about for the past month is relatively small, we may be going through these kinds of ups and downs for a while yet as more of the tumor dies off. Even though it's rough, dead tumor is still better than live tumor. We just have to keep managing the symptoms as we go along.

I've seen a quote that fits this situation:

"We can't change the winds. We can only adjust our sails."

So that's what we keep doing - adjusting. The bright side to the timing of all this is that it seems to be under control in time for Gerry to go on his scheduled deep sea fishing trip this weekend. He's getting excited about that; it's always a great time.

As always, thank you for your support and prayers. A special thanks to Candy, for faithfully signing in with some quick quip on the guestbook! Thanks also to those of you who have offered to help us with getting everyone from point A to point B these days, since Gerry's not driving. (Thanks for taking him to class and work today, Sharon!)

Love and blessings to all of you,
Laura

Wednesday, September 24, 2003 1:20 PM CDT

Hello friends and family,

Gerry had his PET scan yesterday to try to determine whether the MRI showed new tumor growth or dead tissue. He was injected with radioactive glucose, and then scanned to see which tissues metabolized the glucose rapidly and which did not. The PET scan (positron emission tomography)shows a map of those metabolic rates. If the glucose is metabolized rapidly, that's indicative of tumor growth. If the glucose is metabolized very slowly or not at all, that's indicative of dead or dying tissue.

Dr. Nabors, our wonderful neuro-oncologist, knowing that we were on pins and needles waiting for an answer, went yesterday afternoon and tracked down the nuclear medicine guy who reads the scans. That doctor was in the middle of reading another scan, but Dr. Nabors had him pull ours up and look it over. He called me at about 4:30 yesterday to tell me that it looks like dead tissue!!!!! I was so relieved, I didn't know what to do. I have never been so happy in my life to hear that my husband is partially brain dead! (There have been jokes that some had suspected as much for years!)

So, the plan now is to go see Dr. Nabors tomorrow morning and discuss the final report, since that was just the preliminary finding. Then, Gerry will start this month's round of Temodar tomorrow night, and he will continue taking it like before, as long as it keeps working, for up to 24 cycles. This will be cycle number 11. The only difference is that Gerry will now have monthly MRIs for a while, so that we can all keep a very close eye on things, since there have been false readings with PET scans occasionally. A false negative is potentially devastating, so we will watch him like hawks.

We can't say enough good things about our respect for and trust in Burt Nabors. He really went the extra mile to go track down our results as quickly as possible, and had spent a long time on the phone with me the day before, at the end of his long day, answering all of my questions about the scan, its results, and our possible courses of action. I also have tremendous respect for his wife, Mary Leigh, whom I have known for some time. She has four young children and a husband who is not around much, because he is working hard to save my husband's, and many other people's lives. I don't think I could be a doctor's wife, and I respect the hard work she does with her family.

Every night when we pray, we pray for all of you who are praying for us, and we also pray for all of the doctors and researchers working to find a cure. I would like to encourage all of you who pray for us to also pray for those doctors and researchers and their families, who work hard and make sacrifices to try to help us. Burt is in the clinic seeing patients for part of the week, and in the lab doing research for the rest of the week. He really works two very demanding jobs. (Even more demanding when I'm in his face asking a million questions!)

Meanwhile, back at the ranch, two of my three boys have strep throat. Poor Jacob is on his second antibiotic because the first one wasn't working. He's been very sick. Last night at bedtime, Zak told me his throat was hurting, so off we went today to confirm that he, too, has strep. Our wonderful pediatrician wrote a prescription for me to hold for Patrick in case he gets it, too. She knows that I would never fill it unless I had to. I don't like for my boys to be on anything unless it's absolutely necessary. In a strange way, it has been a blessing in disguise to have sick kids these last few days, because it has given me somewhere to focus other than on Gerry's tests. I wouldn't wish my kids ill for anything, but the timing was good.

Gerry and I will discuss all the strep stuff with Burt tomorrow to make sure that he feels comfortable with Gerry starting his chemo in the middle of all this. He may want Gerry to wait until everyone is well, just to make sure that Gerry doesn't wind up with strep in the middle of chemo. That would be very hard to weather.

It has been a roller coaster couple of weeks. Our trip to the beach was enormously fun, even with the shadow of fear looming over us. We laughed so hard and so often that I spent much of the week with sore abs. The last few days have been the hardest, waiting for the scan and the results. I was very filled with dread and apprehension, and, in my usual style, trying to steel myself for the worst. The Thursday morning of his MRI, while I showered, I had gotten a clear image in my head of Burt telling us that there was something bad on the MRI. Then yesterday, after the scan, while I was puttering around at home trying not to sit by the phone, I got another clear image of Burt telling us that the scan was good. I felt more calm yesterday after the scan than I had any of the previous few days. It was very strange. I didn't let myself get my hopes up that it was true, but I couldn't deny that I felt calmer. I guess the Holy Spirit was with me. Some of my friends call it my sixth sense.

By last night, I was exhausted and wrung out from all the stress. I am going to call my massage therapist and try to get an appoinment asap. That will help. Then, I think I will call around for a sitter for Friday night, so that Gerry and I can go out and celebrate!

Thank you again for all of your prayers. I know that some have you have been praying overtime for us recently, and we sincerely appreciate it!

Love and blessings,
Laura

Thursday, September 11, 2003 9:41 PM CDT

Hello, friends and family.

Gerry had his MRI today (at the crack of dawn!), and we also got the results from his neuro-psyche exam. Gerry is very happy to hear that this exam was better than last time, and his cognitive function appears to be totally intact.

The MRI was a little questionable. There is an area on there that could be dead tissue, or it could be some type of new tumor activity. Clinically, he is doing so well and having no symptoms, that we're just going to hope it's tissue that is still dying off due to the radiation. The MRI can't differentiate between radiation effect and new tumor, so Gerry will have a PET scan to try to discern what is really happening.

We are taking a long-planned vacation with our children and some of our friends from this Saturday until next Saturday. Since it takes at least a week to set up the PET scan, because of dealing with insurance and scheduling, it works out well. We don't have to sit at home this week and wonder what's going on; we can go to the beach and have fun with our friends and family and worry about it when we get back.

So that's the deal. He will have the PET scan the week after next, and we'll hopefully know more then. Until then, please say some extra prayers for us that it's just dead tumor. (By the way, a priest I asked said he does believe that it matters if more people are praying for you, but I won't get into all that right now - I don't have the energy. Just pray for us!)

Meanwhile, we don't want our kids to worry, so we're not telling them any of this. For those of you who see us often, please keep that in mind.

Thanks, as always, for checking on us, praying for us, and supporting us.

Love and blessings,
Laura

Tuesday, September 2, 2003 9:21 PM CDT

Hi everyone!

I know it's been a long time since we wrote anything, and I've been catching some grief about it. Sorry! I hope you'll always assume that no news is good news.

We are very grateful that people still check on us and pray for us. We are also grateful that we have nothing major to report. Mostly, we've been occupied with trying to settle into a school-year routine.

Once again, we are very happy with the boys' teachers this year, and continue to be quite content with our little neighborhood school. All three of our boys are in school this year.

Gerry's next MRI is next Thursday, September 11th. His neuro-psyche exam is this Thursday, although I don't know how long it will take to get the results of that back. We don't expect any surprises on the MRI. I figure that with as much tumor as he has in his head, it really has nowhere to go, so if the tumor were growing, we'd see outward signs before we found out via MRI. That being said, I seriously doubt that I will be able to refrain from getting uptight about it next week.

Recently, I was talking with a friend about the last year, and she asked me if I could see anything positive that has come out of it. That's an interesting question to ponder. We found out how many people care about us and want to help. That has been pretty amazing. We've also gained perspective. We always knew what was important to us - that hasn't really changed. It's more that our realization of how short and uncertain life is has given us the courage to act on some of our priorities. I don't think Gerry and I would have taken our fabulous trip to Santa Fe if it hadn't been for his tumor. I know we wouldn't have taken our family to Jamaica last year. We would have relegated those things to "someday," and found a million other pressing, mundane things to do with that money. A year from now, we wouldn't have remembered how we spent it, and there would still be a million more mundane, forgettable things to stop us from getting out there and making some wonderful memories.

There are smaller, more everyday ways that our new perspective has brought freedom, but those two trips are a good illustration. So I guess I'd say that perspective is the good thing to come of all this.

I'd still trade the perspective back in a heartbeat to know that Gerry was tumor free forever. There's a whole lot I'd trade for that.

But I don't get that choice. I don't think God plays "Let's Make a Deal!"

Here's some stuff for you guys to ponder. Some friends and I were batting this around today. Feel free to chime in on the guestbook with your own perspective. We were discussing God and His role in illness, and in miracles, etc. Do you really think God micro-manages? I don't think he "causes" illnesses. Is it something He "allows" as part of some grand plan? Does He know that 5 years from now, such and such calamity will happen that will lead to something else, which leads to something else, which somehow fits into some design of His? If so, why? Is He just tinkering around for the fun of it? What is His ultimate goal with all of this Divine Plan, if there is one?

And what about miracles, if you believe in those? Who gets them? Is it the one who prays the loudest, or the longest? Is having 2000 people praying for you better than just 20? Or 2? Does whether you get a miracle depend on your faith? Does the person receiving the miracle have to have sufficient faith? If so, what about babies, who can't understand faith? I want to believe in miracles, but I don't want to believe in a random or arbitrary system of their distribution. I don't know that I believe in a merit-based distribution, either. Does God really need for us to pray and tell Him what we need? Doesn't He know what we need? If so, why doesn't He just give it to us, if He's so benevolent? Are there certain hoops we have to jump through? Say the magic words, and you'll get your grace. I don't have any answers, but I have lots and lots of questions.

Love and blessings,
Laura

Thursday, July 31, 2003 1:39 PM CDT

Hello everyone,

It has been entirely too long since I put on a journal entry. However, Laura is a much better writer, and I would much rather read her entries than to write my own.

As she said in her last entry she gets really wound up at MRI time. I believe and have told her so that the wind up is worse than the pitch. She winds up every MRI and says that it is better than worrying only if something shows up.

I know that until there is a cure I am living under the shadow of a recurrence. But I want to live not fear. I believe that we are doing all that we can to help my situation, through medicine, alternatives, and prayer. And as always, thanks to everyone who keeps our family in your prayers. We keep you in our prayers as well.

Work is going fine. Keeping me on my toes. I still look forward to going to work each day, which has always been my gauge of work satisfaction.

I will try to write more sooner.

Sincerely,

Gerry

Friday, July 18, 2003 3:25 PM CDT

Hello, everyone.

I'm very sorry I was remiss in my posting duties last week. I was really only in town for a little less than 24 hours, and I just didn't take the time to put an entry here after the MRI. When I got down to Fairhope, I didn't have a way to get onto the 'net, so that was that and here we are.

The MRI results were pretty much the same - stable, thank God. I get really anxious every time an MRI is coming up. A lot of the bt patients and caregivers I know get that way. With most cancers, it seems that the longer a person lives after diagnosis and treatment without a recurrence, the better that person's chances are of never having a recurrence. By the five year mark, most folks are breathing easier and are even considered in remission.

With brain tumors, it's different. In general, for most bt patients, it's not a matter of if the tumor will recur, but when. The longer he goes on being stable, the more I worry that this time will be the time when the monster has come back. I know that's not very pleasant or positive, but I can't help it. Each time I prepare myself for the worst, just in case. It's just that I never again want to be caught so off guard, to have the world knocked completely out from under me like it was one year ago today.

When that doctor came into the room, looking ashen faced and solemn, as if he'd give anything not to say his next words, I knew that life as I'd known it was gone, and something else entirely was about to take its place.

So, Monday, there I sat, a bundle of raw nerves, in the MRI waiting room. It's a basement room, with no windows, no music, decorated in that completely coordinated and calculated way that leaves no room for anything interesting or surprising. Everyone in there is quite, ocassionally whispering to a companion, as if it were a library or a church. To me, it seems more like a courtroom as I sit and wait for the big magnets to pass judgement. Do we get to keep on living our new reality, or will that get snatched away, too, this time? Pass or fail? Live or die? What will the big machine say this time?

Then we look at the MRI films ourselves while we wait to see the doctor. "Does it look different to you?" "I don't know, what do you think?" "Should we pull out the last ones and compare?" (We always have all of them with us.) "Let's just see what Burt says." Then we wait. Sometimes, the waiting isn't long. Sometimes the office is running behind, and the tension builds inside me, as I wonder if this is one of those "before" scenes. You know, like in the movies, when the family is happily driving down the road, laughing and joking, and the audience knows that there is a truck around the next curve which has crossed the yellow line. The oblivious family is having their "before" moment - before their lives are changed forever by what is about to happen.

It doesn't affect Gerry the same way. He asked me why I worry each time that the tumor will grow. He assumes that it will remain stable. I told him that it's self preservation, in a weird way. It's my way of trying to take the intensity out of the blow, should it come this time. I never want to be that surprised again. It's just my own coping mechanism. He copes by assuming that everything will be fine. I cope by hoping for the best while trying to prepare for the worst.

So this time, the big magnets say we're ok. God has smiled on us again.

So here we are, a year later, forty years older, although I can't vouch for wiser. I've noticed the last year has aged me in strange ways I never would have expected. For example, my hearing seems to have really begun to suffer this past year. I tire more easily. Those are stress effects, I guess. Constant stress can do crazy things to your body.

Gerry is finding that doing math in his head much more of a challenge now. Most people laugh and say that it's always been a challenge for them. He also tires a little more easily, but those are things to which we've adjusted. We'll keep on adjusting as needed. I've seen a quote that says, "We cannot change the wind. We can only adjust our sails." That's certainly true in this case. Whatever effects will come from the tumor or the treatments, we have no choice but to live with it. Put one foot in front of the other. Keep on keepin' on.

Meanwhile, we wait, hope, pray, and work for a cure. On that subject, some of you may remember that UAB was granted one of two SPORE grants for brain tumor research last October. The other one went to UCSF, I think. Anyway, it's a five year grant for translational research - which is research that is easily translated into actual treatments for the patients. (As opposed to the very abstract, microbiological kind of research on which translational research is then based.) Monday, Dr. Nabors told me that UAB is supposed to have a patient advocacy representative as part of their team or committee for the SPORE grant. He asked me to be the representative for UAB and I think I'm going to do it. He thinks it will involve serving an advisory board and going to the yearly national meeting, as well as other things.

I'm honored and excited to get to be a part of this. I'll get to speak on behalf of the patients, from their unique perspective. I'll get to put in a plug for what they need. Maybe I can make a difference. I guess I've been the squeaky wheel without being too obnoxious. Dr. Nabors has gotten used to my twenty questions at the end of every appointment. Gerry said that they needed a trouble-maker and that Dr. Nabors automatically thought of me! We'll see what happens.

Gerry will get to have another fun neuro-psyche exam sometime next month. I know he's looking forward to reciting lists and recreating little line drawings again. We'll get to see how much of his brain is tied behind his back this time. (A friend of ours was joking about how smart Gerry is, even though he's had a very big brain tumor all this time. The friend said imagine what Gerry could've done if he hadn't had half his brain tied behind his back!)

I guess that's about all the news for now. I'll try to get Gerry to write something again soon. It's been a while. He just doesn't have a whole lot of time to sit and write, between working full time and trying to live a normal life, doing complementary medicine and swallowing up to 50 pills a day. (That alone is fairly time-consuming.)

Until next time, keep on praying. It's working!

Love and blessings,
Laura

Friday, July 4, 2003 11:14 PM CDT

Happy Independence Day, everyone!

We went downtown (along with the rest of the inhabitants of the greater Birmingham Metropolitan area,) and watched the fireworks from the top of a parking deck where my mother works. We always spend Friday nights with my parents, the way we spend Wednesday nights with Gerry's family. We're all about the traditions and routines.

The fireworks were nice, and the weather was just about perfect, if not a tiny bit chilly - very unusual! The boys ran around and played with other kids while we all waited for the show to start. It always amazes and impresses me how quickly kids make friends. They say hi, exchange names and sometimes ages, and they're off and running, new friends. Too bad we can't all be more like that as adults.

After the fireworks, we miraculously managed to avoid being trapped in traffic for an hour, and were home in about 20 minutes. That has to be record time. It's a good thing, too, because we had a few more little things to do here tonight before we fly to New York tomorrow morning. We are all excited to be going to convention this year. It really reminds me of how far we've come this year.

Last year, at the convention, we were still flattened by Gerry's very fresh diagnosis. It was very hard to picture ourselves having the opportunity to go to the convention this year. We said it would take a miracle to make it to this year. Now we have our miracle. We live it every day. Gerry gets out of bed and goes to work. That's our miracle. He comes home and kisses us, and eats dinner with us, and carries on normal conversations. That's our miracle. Gerry goes deep sea fishing with his dad and some work buddies. That's our miracle. He practices tee-ball with Patrick, to help him improve his hitting. That's our miracle.

It may not be flashy, it may not be all at once, but we live our miracle, little by little, day by day, and suddenly now, almost a year has passed. That truly is a miracle. We have so much joy and hope now. We have so much more confidence that Gerry can beat this than we had at last year's convention. We can face our old friends from all over the USA and thank them for their prayers. We can rejoice with them at meeting for another year's festivities. We can all be grateful to God, together, for the chance to gather in His name again. It's a beautiful thing, our miracle.

When we return from New York, Gerry will have his next MRI. We pray for continued tumor stability, and for Gerry's continued strength and health while he undergoes chemo. He has done extremely well with the chemo so far - another miracle.

The MRI is on the 14th, and then Gerry's one year survival anniversary is the 18th. Wow.

Time -
A gift, a blur, it flies, it crawls.
We try to measure it, mark it, control it.
We can't. It is what it is.
How much do we have?
Who knows?
Are we halfway there? Are we near the end?
We can't know until it's over, and then
Is it too late?
Only if you have regrets, I say.
Live with no regrets, and maybe, just maybe
Time won't be so scary.


Love and blessings,
Laura

Monday, June 16, 2003 4:18 PM CDT

Hello, everyone!

We are back from a fantastic trip to Santa Fe, NM. Gerry and I left on Tuesday after the Party With a Purpose and spent a week together in Santa Fe for our 11th anniversary. We rented a convertible and spent lots of time driving around the scenic routes, stopping when something looked interesting.

We went on a hot air balloon ride, which was unique and exciting. Even though we had to get up at 4 in the morning to be in Albuquerque by 5:30, I 'm still glad we did it! (We even had to do that twice, because the first time, the weather didn't cooperate and we had to scrap the flight after we'd gotten there!)

We went to a mineral springs spa and had relaxing, detoxifying, healing treatments. We ate amazing New Mexican food and shopped quite a bit. We slept late, watched movies, and enjoyed spending some concentrated time together.

It was very much like a second honeymoon, especially since it was immediately preceeded by a large, stressful, important event! I'm so glad that we got away like that. It was the most normal I've felt since Gerry's diagnosis. I didn't even think about his tumor. It was a gift we gave ourselves (with a little help from some frequent flyer miles!)

Soon we hope to put up a link to some photos of the party and of our trip. We haven't finished gathering photos from the party yet, and I have one last roll of film to develop from Santa Fe.

Gerry began this month's chemo as soon as we got home, and is now finished with another round. That makes 9 rounds of chemo he's taken, with approximately 15 more to go. So far, so good, thank God. He will have another MRI next month, and we have no reason to expect any surprises.

Next month, we will also be embarking on another trip, this time as a family. Actually, most of Gerry's extended family will be going. It's our annual convention trip with our church. Last year's trip, which was to Minneapolis, was right after Gerry's diagnosis and is quite a blur to us. The kids enjoyed the Mall of America with its indoor theme park and aquarium, but that's about all we did. This year, we will be going to NYC, and I will be doing my usual pre-trip research and planning to make this trip much better.

Usually, the boys and I study the places we'll be going, especially anything with historic background, so that the boys have a better appreciation of the places we visit. We have had wonderful trips to Washington DC, Austin, Anaheim, Pittsburgh, and Detroit. We are looking forward to our time in New York.

Some people have asked me what I'm going to do now that the auction is over, and isn't consuming all my time anymore. Well, the American Society of Clinical Oncologists had its annual meeting May 31- June 3, and I'm working on reading the abstracts from the research presented there that have do to with brain tumors. I like to stay on top of the latest research.

Other than that, I'm trying to spend some concentrated time with my kids this summer, doing fun things at home and around town. We only get about 18 summers with our kids, so I want to use them wisely!

I hope you will join us in continuing to pray for healing for Gerry, and for inspiration and guidance for all the doctors and researchers working on finding better treatments and ultimately, a cure for this disease.

Love and blessings,
Laura

Sunday, June 1, 2003 10:32 PM CDT

Dear friends and family,

What a great party we had last night. Gerry and I should recover by July or so!

I think some money is still trickling in, but so far, it looks like The Party With a Purpose raised about $28,000 to give to the American Brain Tumor Association for research. That is completely fantastic. My two goals in setting up this party were to raise at least $25,000 and for everyone to have fun. I think we accomplished both of those! I was even able to relax and enjoy myself because I had so many wonderful people helping.

To everyone who asked someone for a donation, ran an errand, helped set up, helped break down, helped run things during the party, bought a ticket, made a donation, listened to me stress out, assured me that it would be fine, and/or came and had a good time,

THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU A MILLION TIMES!

This party would have been nothing without all of the above mentioned elements falling into place.

I look forward to what I call the "post-game analysis" when we get back from Santa Fe, because I love to work with all the numbers and see what worked really well and which items were really popular. There are a couple of details I do know already, though.

First, the highest dollar live auction item was shaving Jacob's and Patrick's heads. They actually don't look as bad as I thought they would. I haven't cried. They look quite adorable in do-rags, in fact. Today, as Gerry was putting Patrick's rag on him so Patrick could go outside to play (we don't want to sunburn!), Patrick grinned and said, "We really helped Daddy a lot, didn't we?" That's when Gerry and I told him that the haircuts raised more money than any other item. His little five year old face glowed with pride.

Thank you to all the bidders on that one. You gave my boys the enormous gift of being able to do something tangible to help their Daddy. OK, now I have tears.

To all of you who were concerned that the boys would be upset about their baldness, don't be. When I originally expressed concern about it a few weeks ago, my very wise, Zen, 7 year old Jacob looked at me with peace and reassurance and said quietly, "Mommy, it's only hair."

Kids are amazing. Speaking of which, the other detail I know at this point is that one of the best selling teacup auction items was my friend Tera's painting. Tera is a ten year old friend of mine who is living with a brain tumor. Her tumor was diagnosed almost exactly one year before Gerry's, and her parents are some of our dearest friends. They helped us tremendously during those early days of diagnosis, fear, and confusion in July.

Tera made a painting of a cat for the auction. A teacup auction is like a raffle, where bidders buy tickets for $1 each and put them into the boxes which correspond with the items they desire. At the end of the night, each item is awarded through a raffle-type drawing. Tera's box had $80 worth of tickets in it! She should be very proud of that. I'm very proud of her, especially since she is not particularly comfortable drawing attention to the fact that she has a brain tumor. Thank you, Tera, for your wonderful painting. You rock! Congratulations to Michelle Kassouf, who totally stuffed the box and went home (thrilled) with Tera's painting. Michelle, you rock!

Gerry and I both enjoyed the party enormously last night. I have walked around all day with a big grin on my face, because it's over and it was great!

My next project is to pack for Santa Fe; our plane leaves early Tuesday morning. We are very excited about this trip.

I'm going to try to get some sleep now. I have to re-train my body to stop stressing now and sleep without dreaming about the auction all night. Wish me luck!

Love and blessings, and thanks again,
Laura

Friday, May 30, 2003 10:28 AM CDT

The Party With a Purpose is tomorrow night!

Gerry feels good.

I feel...stressed, tired, and excited. Too much running through my head to even make sense now.

Tomorrow night, it will all be great, and we will have fun, and raise lots of money for more research, and it will all have been worth it! Right? Somebody?

My friend had a dream where she saw herself and Gerry and me hanging out together, (a very common occurence,) and Gerry had no more cancer. It was in the past. She said we were calm; we weren't jumping and screaming for joy; it was just gone. There was a feeling that the tumor was something we'd already beaten. I like that dream. She awoke happy and peaceful. I'm going to borrow that feeling for a while. Thanks, Margot.

Love and blessings,
Laura

Tuesday, May 27, 2003 5:10 PM CDT

Hello, all, from the land of fast and furious last minute preparations!

There are only FOUR more days until the Party With a Purpose! Everything is almost ready, and it's going to be GREAT!

I'm sorry this is extremely brief, but there is still much to do. We are well. Gerry feels great. We are looking forward to seeing lots of you this weekend at the auction, and we're looking forward to the auction being finished!

Thank you for checking on us. We'll write again soon.

Love and blessings,
Laura

Thursday, May 22, 2003 5:35 PM CDT

Hello everyone,

Another busy week has passed. Time is flying as we finish preparing for the big Party With a Purpose. If you are planning to come, and you haven't sent in your reply/ticket order yet, please do so as soon as possible. The caterers need a number from me early next week.

There are lots of great auction items for your bidding enjoyment! Go to our event website (use the link below) for a listing of some of the exciting items. Some people have asked about the attire for the event - it's dressy casual. Gerry will probably be in slacks and a golf shirt. It would be silly of me to have a party in his honor and make it dressy, since that's totally not the kind of guy Gerry is!

Gerry's actual birthday was last weekend, on May 17th. He spent the day on a deep sea fishing expedition with his dad and some guys from work. They had a great time, wonderful weather (which is more than I can say for us in Birmingham), and caught lots of fish. Gerry even caught the biggest one, a twelve and a half pound snapper.

God gave me a little reminder this week that I need to slow down a little and not forget my first and most important job, "Mommy." My five year old awoke in the middle of the night Tuesday night, burning with fever and sick at his stomach. I took him to the doctor on Wednesday, and, as I suspected, he had strep throat. So he and I had a calm day at home instead of the crazy day of errands I had planned while he was at Mom's Day Out. It was kind of nice. Today, he was good as new, thanks to the shot of antibiotics.

I had a little bit of a hard time picking out a birthday card for Gerry this year. Everything kind of hit me as I stood in the Hallmark store. Ten short months ago, we weren't sure we'd even make it to this birthday, and yet it's also kind of scary how quickly those ten months have flown past in a blur. Hallmark doesn't really have a card that covers those kinds of feelings! Well, I did get over myself and manage not to have a complete come-apart right there in the middle of the mall. I decided on one sappy card (the kind he hates,) and one funny sarcastic card, which is more his style. It's not like he doesn't know how I feel after all this time, anyway.

I guess that's about all for now. His next round of chemo will be after we get home from Santa Fe, around June 10 or 11. Meanwhile, I have more last minute preparations for our big party. It's really taking shape, and I think it will be lots of fun. Only NINE MORE DAYS until the Party With a Purpose - oh my gosh! Please plan to join us if at all possible!

Love and blessings,
Laura

Tuesday, May 13, 2003 7:52 PM CDT

Hello everyone!

It's been a few weeks since I wrote - sorry! I have been super busy with one thing after another.

Gerry is still doing very well. He is trying to be as normal as possible, and, to a reasonable extent, put all "this" behind him. I, on the other hand, am eating, sleeping, and breathing our situation 24/7 right now because I'm trying to finish up all the preparations for our big fundraiser.

On that subject, let me take a second to say a big THANK YOU to all of you who have already donated your products, services, talents, time, and money to help make this a successful fundraising event. We are receiving reply cards every day from people telling us that they will be joining us! We're very excited. If, by some chance, you did not receive an invitation and you'd like one, please email me directly at lrkimes@earthlink.net with your address and I will get you one immediately. I hope you'll forgive us if names or addresses weren't quite right, or if we have inadvertently failed to send you an invitation. We want everyone to come! It's just a daunting task to sit down and make a comprehensive list of everyone who may possibly want to come. I haven't planned anything this big since my wedding 11 years ago.

I can't believe it has been 10 months since Gerry's diagnosis. In some ways, the pain and fear are so fresh that it seems like it was yesterday. Then on the other hand, our lives "before the brain tumor" seem like a distant memory. As the year anniversary approaches, I'm filled with a strange mix of gratitude and apprehension.

I'm grateful that Gerry has lived this long and this well, given the initial prognosis we were facing. Yet, I am somewhat frightened by how quickly this year has flown. I want to stop time, or at least slow it down, keep it from slipping away...but I know that's impossible. The best we can do is to notice it as it passes, to savor it and not fritter it away foolishly.

I'm protective of my time now, and very sensitive to having it wasted. I want to use it well, to make lasting memories, to laugh and talk and listen. One thing Gerry and I have decided is that we want to celebrate our time milestones more, especially our anniversary. Our family has always done a good job of celebrating birthdays, due in large part to the tireless efforts of my amazing mother in law. Gerry and I generally failed to do much about our anniversary, though. So this year, we're taking an anniversary trip together to spend some "grown-up" time. We don't want to let our anniversaries pass unnoticed anymore, and we don't want to put off seeing and doing things we've always wanted to do "someday." So, within reason, we're going to work on doing the things on that list, just in case "someday" never actually comes. We don't have the luxury of the naive illusion of forever anymore.

My mother was kidding me about the timing of our trip, (a few days after the big party,) saying that people were going to think we took all the money and split! I reminded her that all checks are made out directly to the American Brain Tumor Association, so we couldn't embezzle it even if we wanted to do so. Besides, as my friend Kristin put it, that money is "to buy Gerry a new brain!" Gerry called that "changing his mind."

He still has his warped sense of humor!

'Till next time...

Love and blessings,
Laura

Thursday, May 1, 2003 9:23 PM CDT

Hi everyone!

We have had a very long day of getting kids where they needed to be and various medical appointments. I will be rather brief and write a better update soon, because the boys want me to snuggle for a minute before they fall asleep, and that's important stuff!

Gerry had another MRI and checkup today, and things look good. In fact, these MRI's looked a little better than the last ones. It is very good news. We're getting our miracle - keep on praying!

We also met with Gerry's Oriental Medicine Doctor, who has some more detailed instructions for Gerry to follow with his diet, etc., in order to help his body fight the cancer and tolerate the treatments. She specializes in helping cancer patients.

I told you I'd be brief - I have to go snuggle with my babies! (Plus I'm exhausted!)

Love and blessings,
Laura

Friday, April 25, 2003 8:51 PM CDT

Wow,

April has flown by. Laura and I spent several hours today working the Lebanese Food Festival at our church, St. Elias. The festival continues tonight and all day/evening on Saturday April 26. It is a fun time, great food, and you can see traditional dancing, bread making(and eating) and many things Lebanese.

I am traveling again for work this weekend and next week. My next doctor visit is this coming Thursday, which includes my next MRI. I am still going strong, working and playing and living a generally normal life. The event planning for our ABTA Fundraiser is going strong. We have already received a lot of great items for the auctions, and are continuing to seek more items, as well as cash donations to the American Brain Tumor Association. All money raised goes directly to ABTA who will earmark all of the funds to go to research grants.

Please plan to join us on May 31 at the Bare Hands Art Gallery at 1st Avenue South and 21st Street. Within the next few days, we will have the event web site up and running (thanks to very hard work by John Dahle) and will post the site right here for everyone to visit.

Please keep praying for our family, as our family prays everyday for all of you. So far my miracle is coming through everyday living with no tumor problems.

Thank you all again,

Sincerely,

Gerry Kimes

Addendum: The Party With a Purpose website is now up and running! Please go to www.equatorium.org/pwp/
and see all the details! More information such as auction items and sponsors will be added often. Thank you. -Laura

Friday, April 11, 2003 10:03 AM CDT

Hi everyone!

Gerry finished his latest round of chemo on Wednesday night, and was able to fly out on Thursday morning for a business trip to Denver. It's so nice that he's able to work and be pretty normal.

The next MRI is scheduled for May 1st, so we will, of course, let you know at that point how things look. It is amazing to hear words like "stable" in relation to Gerry now. As great as stable is, I know that he's only 6 months into chemo right now. He still has about 18 more to go. If there is no tumor progression during all the chemo, then my understanding is that he will have a good shot at remaining stable for several years.

That information makes me all the more determined to make the fundraiser a big success. I want to do all that one person can do to help further the cause of finding a cure in time to save Gerry and others like him. Through the grace of God, and all of your prayers, it looks like maybe we're buying some time to wait for the cure. We pray every day for all the researchers working on a cure for this deadly disease.

Of course, we still pray daily for Gerry to be cured, and we know that the cure could come straight from God, but I think the cure is no less "from God" if it comes "through man" via modern medicine, or Chinese medicine, or whatever!
We'll take it any way we can get it!

I am still completely open to any donations for the auctions - big or small. I am especially seeking any sort of weekend vacation arrangement within easy drive of Birmingham - such as a long weekend at someone's beach condo, or something in Chattanooga, or Destin, or whatever. However, anything you think you'd like to bid on is welcome!!!! I do hope that a great many of you are marking May 31st on your calendars and making plans to join us! I am working hard to make sure it will be fun and well worth your time. I hope to begin actual ticket sales on May 1st, but if you are already planning to come, please feel free to email me with your ticket requests now. Very soon, I hope to have a separate website up and running with all the pertinent information about the event. You'll be able to access it through this site.

Well, I have some sweet visitors at my house, and I need to run.

Thank you, thank you, thank you, as always, for all of your kind prayers and support. I know that it is all the prayers that have helped both of us do as well as we have these 8 (almost 9!) months.

Love and abundant blessings to you and your families,
Laura

Monday, April 7, 2003 9:02 AM CDT

We met with Dr. Nabors, our Neuro-Oncologist, on Thursday, April 4, 2003. At that meeting Dr. Nabors says he considers my condition stable as I continue to tolerate chemotherapy well, and have exhibited no deficiencies.

The chemotherapy plan for now is to continue the same monthly routine until at least 12 months, more likely 24 months. That assumes that I continue to tolerate the temodar as well as I have so far. I started this month's run of temodar on Saturday and will be finished on Wednesday. I am off of the steroids, and anti-seizure drugs, and feeling better. I still get run down by the chemo, and need to sleep more during that week especially. But the blessing continue in my ability to do pretty much whatever I want.

I work full time, take care of getting the kids to school every morning, and spend as much time with family and friends as possible.

Thank you all again for your support.

Sincerely,

Gerry Kimes

Wednesday, March 26, 2003 12:58 AM CST

Two short weeks later and I am finally writing on the web page again. To those who do not see our family regularly, we are back to being remarkably normal. Which further shows how blessed we have been by all of the prayers and support from all of you. Please keep praying for our family. It will be early May for the next MRI, until then, I will continue with monthly Chemo, and trying to be normal.

Laura and the boys were able to spend the last three days in Atlanta with our friends Alan, Kristin, MacKensie, and Madison. Just after Laura left, I discovered I had gotten her cold. I am working hard to fight it, and I think it will be short.

Work at V&W Supply continues to go well and be a blessing for me. I am not sure what I would do without a job to get up for each day. I am treated normally by my friends there who do not cut me any slack. Having cancer does not matter, and I can't use the excuse of the radiation machine breaking down anymore. So I show up, stay most of the day, and try to get things accomplished.

I have my temper back under control, even without happy drugs. I had a discussion about religion with three friends at lunch today that was very amicable. I now have an assignment to e-mail my brother the priest regarding some particular parts of Catholic Dogma.

Find a way to laugh each day, it is better than an apple for keeping the doctors at bay.

Sincerely in Christ,

Gerry

Thursday, March 13, 2003 8:26 PM CST

As I usually do, I will start off this journal entry with an apology for how long it has been since an update. We do appreciate everyone who continues to look to this site for updates on our lives.

I have been working much closer to full time hours, which leaves even less time for journal entries. I came home tonight at 6:30pm after a sales meeting at work, and my kids acted like they couldn't believe it. How mercifully short their memories are. They don't remember when I worked in Gadsden for 4 years and 6:30pm would be an early arrival time for me.

Just a warning note for the general public, I am off of Zoloft and my temper is back. It flared up royally (as in I made a royal ass of myself) last night after dinner. Politics and religion are two subjects I am not allowing myself to discuss anymore. And as my father pointed out, no one will change their beliefs about either from a conversation. My apologies to everyone present for my unseemly display of anger.

On a better note, I am tapering off of the Dilantin, which is an anti-seizure medication I was put on after my brain biopsi. I have never had a seizure so the doctor is letting me taper off the drug. In approximately 4 weeks, I hope to be free from taking any drugs on a daily basis. However, as long as the chemotherapy shows progress, I will continue the same regimen for up to 24 total months. That won't be too bad as it only is for 5 days each month and I just completed the 5th month.

The plans are moving forward for the "Party with a Purpose" in honor of my birthday. We are still waiting on ABTA(American Brain Tumor Association) to deliver the sponsor letters. Hopefully in the next two days they will be received and we will be lining up the donations for the auctions(live, silent, and teacup). The party is definitely shaping up for May 31, 2003.

I will close with one of my favorites from Laura's new book of proverbs from around the world:

Dry pants catch no fish.

I read that as life is messy, but you have to jump in to enjoy it. I am continuing to get messy everyday and you should as well.

Love,

Gerry

Monday, March 3, 2003 8:35 PM CST

Greetings everyone!

Well, a long and busy day is over. It started at the crack of dawn trying to get the five of us out the door early so we could drop the boys off at various places before school. Patrick thought it was great that he got to school before his teacher did! We had to wait in the office until someone was in his classroom to watch him. It's funny and sweet what a five year old thinks is really cool.

Then we were off and running to make it to church at 8 am, because in our church, today is Ash Monday. We get a headstart on Lent compared to our Roman Catholic friends. After Mass, we were off and running again to get down to Kirklin Clinic so that Gerry could get his bloodwork out of the way before his 9:30 MRI. That MRI waiting area needs some music or something. Some days it's like a morgue down there - we're in the basement with no windows, it's cold, and nobody talks to each other. It makes for a long wait. I always bring a book or something to do.

After the MRI,(during which Gerry said he fell asleep!), we headed back upstairs to see Dr. Nabors, our Neuro-Oncologist. Now I always get nervous at MRI time. I don't sleep well the night before, and I have to work at not getting too jangly while waiting for Dr. Nabors to come in and tell us how it looks. Today was no exception. So when Dr. Nabors came in and started putting the MRI films from this time and last time up side-by-side, I was already in a bit of a state. Then he began to go into a rather detailed description of MRI imagery in general, and then Gerry's specifically. Meanwhile, I was literally getting weak in the knees, thinking that he was working up to bad news. I vividly remember thinking, "I may not be able to remain standing for this."

Thankfully, that fear was unfounded. He got around to telling us that everything still looks good! He even used the word "stable!" I know he didn't mean to torture me that way; he was just trying to give us thorough information about what the scans can and what they can't tell us. I guess by now he knows that we are definitely big information gatherers. Anyway, Dr. Nabors proceeded to talk about how we have made it through the bulk of the treatment now, and the rest is kind of auto-pilot, with Gerry continuing to take chemotherapy each month for another 7 to 19 months. We briefly discussed what we'd heard at the bt conference about 12 vs. 24 months of Temodar, namely, that studies have shown an advantage of 24 over 12 months, but nobody knows yet if there is an advantage to 36 vs. 24, or if 18 is as good as 24, etc.

What we do know is that Gerry is tolerating it extremely well, and his bloodwork is showing that. His liver isn't overly stressed by the toxicity, and he is generally healthy (except for that little matter of the weed in his head.) The particular chemo that Gerry is taking does not have a cumulative toxic effect in the body, which is very good. In other words, each month, his body processes out the toxins from that round, and doesn't start the next round with stored toxins from the previous month. Clinical trials of this particular drug (Temozolomide, or Temodar) began in 1995, and so they are beginning to be able to tell that there don't seem to be any negative effects of the drug showing up in those who are blessed enough to still be around eight years later. All good news.

I asked Dr. Nabors if he thought that the tumor was acting like grade 2 or grade 4. Originally, we were told that although it looked like grade 2 under the microscope, it might indeed be a higher grade, more aggressive tumor. Today I asked that question in the framework of knowing that we do not want to change the way Gerry is being treated at all. We still want to be aggressive in fighting it no matter what, within the parameters of keeping Gerry's quality of life as high as possible. So far, we've been able to do that amazingly well. I was mostly curious about how Dr. Nabors would classify the tumor now, sort of in hindsight. He said that gliomatosis cerebri can be any grade, and that the term generally describels the diffuse nature of it, which is what we understood to be the case from the start. That said, he did indicate that Gerry's is certainly acting like a lower grade tumor. He also said that if we look up information on "gliomatosis cerebri," that what's out there is not encouraging. (We already knew that!) However, he said that in his practice with his patients, he sees those with gliomatosis cerebri doing very well. Praise God, I think Gerry is one of those!

Dr. Nabors also discussed with us what would be happening after all the chemo is over. That's right, we were actually talking in terms of what to expect more than a year from now! I can't describe how wonderful it is to be thinking that far ahead again. He said that Gerry would most likely not need any further treatment at that point, just monitoring, unless and until something changed. He said at that point, the best thing Gerry could do is just continue implementing whichever lifestyle changes he wanted to do in order to fight/prevent disease. It's incredible to hear him talking about that period as if he fully expects it to occur in just that way. For now, we are to keep on going with the Temodar each month, and be normal in between. Hallelujah!

Gerry is going to be weaned off the anti-seizure medication now, since the amount he is taking is not enough to do anything, and he has never had a seizure. That will be one more foreign substance, one more everyday reminder of this, that we can eliminate. Dr. Nabors said that getting off that might also give Gerry even a little more energy, even though that has not been a big problem lately.

Gerry will be taking a slightly higher dose of the chemo this time, and from now on, if he continues to do well. The reason is that he never did get all the way up to the maximum beneficial dose yet, and since the tumor seems to be responding to it and Gerry seems to tolerate it so well, then in the interest of continuing to be aggressive in treating it, he will raise the dosage. This time, Gerry still won't be at the full dose, and Dr. Nabors said we may not go all the way up. We'll just take it one month at a time. At seven and a half months post diagnosis, we are happy to do just that.

I'm sorry I didn't post sooner today. I know that many of you have been waiting to hear something. By the time we were finished, though, it was time to get our kids and head into the evening with its homework, dinner, bedtime, etc. I generally only get to write after the kids are in bed!

Gerry starts this fifth round (of 12 to 24) of chemo tonight. We expect no problems. With all that out of the way for another little while, I can throw myself a little more fully into the fundraiser project. Any day now I will have the official sponsor letters and forms from the American Brain Tumor Association, and I will be able to begin accepting donations of money, goods, or services. I am amazed at how wonderful people are being in wanting to help and to donate things for our party. I guess I shouldn't be amazed, though, considering how truly kind and generous people have been to us throughout this journey so far.

I repeat this because I feel I can never adequately thank you enough - once again, please accept our most sincere and humble gratitude for all your kind prayers and support in so many ways. We can only hope to become worthy of such love.

We pray daily that you and your families will be blessed abudantly, as we are.

Love and blessings,
Laura

Monday, February 24, 2003 9:37 PM CST

First let me apologize, I do not know how long it has been since I put in a journal entry. I am doing very well; still going to work everyday and feeling more normal everyday. I just shaved off my hair again because it was not growing in very full. But at least it is growing.

I am doing so well that a member of my church said he moved me to second on his prayer list. I told him that was fine, as I was at best between third and fifth on my children's list. We do continue to pray for everyone that prays for our family.

My next appointment is Monday 3/3/03 with an MRI. We hope to see no change. I believe that my miracle may well be to continue living a normal life until a cure for my cancer is found. As we stated, many researchers now believe that a cure will come in the next decade.

I hope that everyone will be able to come to the benefit party we are planning for May 31, 2003 at Bare Hands Gallery. Laura has been pouring a lot of effort to make this benefit very successful, and the American Brain Tumor Association has guaranteed that all funds we send will be earmarked for research grants.

Please remember to laugh everyday, even if you have to work to make it happen.

Gerry Kimes

Wednesday, February 12, 2003 11:20 PM CST

Hi all.

Well, no news is good news around here. Our infrequent communications are simply evidence of life going on, which is a good thing. I hope that even though we only update roughly once a week now, most or all of you will still keep checking on us. It gives me enormous comfort and strength to know that so many are thinking about us and praying for us. It's very important to us.

Gerry came through his most recent chemo (last week) with flying colors again. Praise God for that. The preparations for the big fundraiser continue. We don't have a name for it yet - any suggestions will be appreciated! I've tried this one on for size, but I'm not sure if it fits:
Ger's Big Birthday Bash and Brain Tumor Benefit

Also, I want to thank those of you who have already come forward with items to contribute, or with offers of help. God has blessed us richly with an abundance of amazing and generous people in our lives. The kindnesses we have experienced and continue to experience leave me speechless. (Me? Really? I know...hard to believe...)

What's next for us? We just plug along and Ger gets blood work weekly until early March, probably around the 3rd, when we see the doc again. That visit will include an MRI to see how it's going up there, and then Gerry may be able to wean off the anti-seizure meds he's been on since diagnosis. Since he's never had a seizure, Dr. Nabors said that if the MRI looks good, (please, God!), then he can go off the Dilantin. Gerry is anxious to get off as many drugs as possible.

That's it for now, I guess. Thank you all again for checking on us and praying for us. I've read about people being abandoned by their friends after something like this, particularly if it gets to be a long illness. We are so blessed that people continue to love us and show concern. Thank you.

Love and blessings,

Laura

Friday, February 7, 2003 6:21 PM CST

Hello, everyone!

Gerry has had three of his five chemo doses for this round, and is doing fine. The rest of us are healthy, too, so far. We have been incredibly lucky not to have gotten sick yet this season. It seems like everyone I know has sick kids. We've had the flu shot, but I know there are some other really bad viruses going around, as well as strep throat. There are many, many kids absent from school.

Gerry continues to have basically no deficits from the tumor or the treatments. There is a score given to BT patients to describe how well they are functioning and how well they can care for themselves. Sometimes when looking at requirements for clinical trials, you'll see "minimum Karnofsky score 70," which describes the minimum functionality a patient entering the trial must have. At our doctor visit on Monday, Gerry was described as operating at "essentially 100%." I think we'll get our miracle, little by little, with a very large part of it being that Gerry is able to function fully right now with such a large mass in his head. Fatigue is his main symptom these days, and that is much better now than when he was finishing radiation.

I have learned how quickly things that are going well can change, especially with brain tumors. I have also learned, from others in the BT world, that this path is never a straight and simple one. I don't expect to continue like this forever, with no other problems. (Although that would be fantastic, and we'll certainly take that, God!) I think that at some point, there will be bumps in the road. That could be next month, next year, or ten years from now. I do think, however, that with continued prayers, and continued research by the BT docs, we will be able to beat this thing eventually. My guy is a strong one, and my God is even stronger still!

Thank you, as always, for continuing to pray for Gerry's complete and permanent remission. You might also want to add some prayers for wisdom and guidance and inspiration for all those who are working and researching to find a cure for this stubborn disease!

Love and blessings,
Laura

Monday, February 3, 2003 10:49 PM CST

Hi everyone!

We had an appointment with the neuro-oncologist, Dr. Burt Nabors, this morning. It was Gerry's monthly checkup before beginning the next round of chemo tomorrow night. There was no MRI this time, because those are every other month. Gerry is having no problems right now, praise God!

Dr. Nabors is great. We came back from the brain tumor conference with all kinds of questions about the new information we heard there, and about what we've researched since. Dr. Nabors is not an egomaniac; he answered all of our questions and is willing to talk to other docs if their information seems to differ from his, or read the things we're reading to see where we're getting our questions. It seems clear that his primary focus is Gerry's health.

In other news, we have confirmed May 31st as the date for our fundraiser. Soon, I hope to be able to give you a link to a special website about the event. I am very excited about this party. I think it can be a really fun way to do something meaningful. Mark your calendars!

I can't think of anything particularly inspiring or pithy to say in closing, because, quite frankly, I'm tired. So, especially in light of all the crazy viruses going around right now, I'm going to let my body rest and keep my resistance up!

Good night and God bless!

Laura

Thursday, January 30, 2003 at 08:34 PM (CST)

Hello everyone!

We had a great time with our friends in Atlanta last weekend. Actually, we prefer to think of them as "family by choice." Our boys call their girls their "pretend cousins." It's very sweet how much these kids love one another.

The last time I posted a journal entry, I quoted some research I had seen about stem cells. I'm still reading all kinds of new stuff every day. It's mind boggling, but one thing is clear. Doctors and researchers are trying to come at brain tumors from all directions, in the hope of finding some way to offer an actual cure.

So I think now is a good time to spill the beans on something that has been rattling around in my head for a couple of weeks now, and which has gained more substance over the last week. Since Christmas, I had been thinking quite a bit about special occasions, as I mentioned here on the site. I knew that I wanted to make Gerry's birthday this year extra special. The conclusion I've come to more recently is that I don't want to throw just another blowout party to celebrate the continued survival of my warrior-hero husband.

I want a party with a purpose. To that end, I would like to announce that this year, in honor of Gerry's 34th birthday, I am organizing a birthday bash/fundraiser to benefit brain tumor research. Some of my wonderful friends have already begun brainstorming with me, and I think I may truly be able to make this happen. Gerry's birthday is in May, and I haven't nailed down a firm date yet, but I'm looking at May 31st.

My fabulous friend Wendy has said we can use her art gallery, Bare Hands Gallery in downtown Birmingham, for our facility. Her equally fabulous husband, Michael, is a musician and thinks his jazz combo can play. I'm thinking about cocktails, (but not cocktail dress,) and hors d'ouvres, and a silent auction. I may even be able to convince a couple of the wonderful men in my life to organize a golf tournament for that day.

There are a million other details I will need to begin considering, but that's the plan as it stands now, in its infancy. I am narrowing down charities which fund bt research, and scouting around for reasonable food and liquor, or for some corporation or individual to help underwrite the cost of those two big-ticket items. I'm working with the city's best accounting firm, L. Paul Kassouf and Co., to make sure that all the funds get to the charity properly, and that those who donate are able to claim it on their taxes.

More details will be posted as they are settled. For now, I just want to make you aware of the event, tell you that I'm very excited to be able to do something like this, and welcome your suggestions/ideas/donations/offers to help! I hope that all of you who find it geographically feasible to join us for the party will do so. Mark your calendars now! How we'd love the chance to thank each of you personally for all your prayers and support!

On a different note, and I may get in trouble with my friend for this, but here goes:

I have a sweet friend from Spain who has been here on a work visa which is expiring. It cannot be renewed, but she can get a different kind of visa if she has her own business. This is a person who just wants to live and work and pay taxes and be a good citizen here for a few more years before returning to Spain. Her business is translating. She is a lawyer in Spain, and is very smart and articulate. In fact, her English is good enough that she is usually a close second behind me in Scrabble. (She'll kick my behind any day now.) She can do medical, legal, or just about any kind of translating. She has been in the operating room to calm and comfort a Spanish-speaking man during his surgery. She has translated 200 page legal documents. You name it, she can do it. So, if you know someone who needs something translated to or from Spanish, please email me at lrkimes@earthlink.net and I will put you in touch with her.

Thanks for listening to my rambling commercials tonight. We hope to see you in May!

Love and blessings,
Laura

Thursday, January 23, 2003 at 10:43 PM (CST)

Hi everyone!

This is just a very quick note to say that all is well with us right now. We are headed to our home away from home in Atlanta tomorrow to celebrate someone's first birthday!

I'm still up to my eyeballs in literature and research. I have to take it a little at a time or all the gigantic medical words make my eyes cross!

Maybe I'll get a chance to use some of those words in Scrabble this weekend...I think Scrabble is great brain exercise, even when I lose.

One thing I have learned recently is that stem cells can be taken from a person's own bone marrow and used to grow new cells. They can also be transplanted from one person to another. A recent paper I read said that it's been discovered that "stem cells in bone marrow can develop into brain cells, not just blood and bone cells as previously thought. This discovery suggests new approaches for repairing damaged or diseased brains." This is the kind of research that gives me great hope that medicine will find a cure for BTs before too much longer. I hope that someday, not only will stem cells (or some other new therapy) be able to cure the brain tumor, but also to repair any damage to the normal tissue that was caused by earlier treatments like surgery or radiation.

The article I quoted came from NewScientist.com, January 20, 2003 and was written by Andy Coghlan, if anyone would like to read the entire article.

Have a great weekend and try to stay warm!

Love and blessings,
Laura

Monday, January 20, 2003 at 10:10 PM (CST)

Hi everyone!

We're back from Ft. Lauderdale and a weekend of learning, connecting, and keeping warm! We arrived about 24 hours before the conference began because that was the best way we could arrange our flights. It turned out really well because it gave us some time to explore a little and have some down time together. The weather was wonderful - about 75 degrees compared to the 25 degrees our families were enduring at home!

The conference began on Friday afternoon, but most of our heavy-duty learning was on Saturday. We spent all day Saturday in various lectures given by some of the top doctors in the country in all fields relating to the treatment of brain tumors.

Dr. Keith Black, a very well respected neurosurgeon from Cedars-Sinai stated very definitively that it isn't a matter of "if" the docs find a cure for brain tumors, but rather "when." His projection is that there will be a cure in the next decade or so. A couple of months ago, I might have doubted that Gerry could make it that long, given the dismal lifespans of most brain tumor patients. Now, I have met (personally and in cyberspace) many people who are 5, 7, 11, 15, even 19 year survivors of brain tumors. Not only that, but we learned so much about what kinds of research is being done and what new treatments are on the near horizon, that I think the next 5 to 10 years have the potential to be very exciting for those in the BT world. Gerry has an excellent chance of being among the first to be cured - actually cured - of his brain tumor. That's exciting!

The weekend was filled with hope and inspiration as well as information. We networked with other BT patients and caregivers, sharing stories, feelings, and struggles. We were treated to small concerts by David M. Bailey, whose songs I have quoted on this site many times. He is a 6 year brain tumor survivor, and a funny and insightful guy. Gerry especially enjoyed a song of David's we heard this weekend about getting constantly searched at the airport. My favorite song of his is "One More Day," in which he reminds us that every morning we wake up with one more day to hug a loved one, watch the sun set, start working on our dreams. He recommends saying the following to God every morning: "Thank you. Hallelujah. What now?"

Boy, there was enough information this weekend to make our heads spin. I feel like I've had a crash course in micro-biology. I came home with reams of information to read, along with lists of medical journal articles to read, websites to investigate... it's time to get my amateur PhD in microbiology and neuro-oncology so that I can digest all the information. I want to stay on top of all the latest research and findings so that we can use anything that is applicable to Gerry as soon as it's available. It is my privelege to be Ger's full time research assistant again. Thank goodness God gave me intelligence enough to wade through all this stuff, accompanied by a medical dictionary!

We had a consultation with Dr. Zeltser, who is also from Cedars-Sinai. He reviewed Gerry's MRI films and records briefly, and talked to us, answering some questions we had. In his opinion, we are absolutely on the right track and have been very proactive and organized. When we asked him if there is anything else we could be doing right now, he pointed us in the direction of a couple of other things we can investigate and discuss with our doctors, with the idea of possible adding other drugs to the Temodar.

We also learned about the political and financial side of the BT world. Unfortunately, brain tumor research has just a fraction of the funding that some other illnesses, like breast cancer and AIDS have. Part of the reason for this is that BT patients haven't been very vocal. I guess lots of them are just trying to survive. Another reason is that BTs are not as common as a lot of other illnesses, so not as many feel passionate about it. The really scary part is that we still don't know what causes them, and still have only crude ways of prolonging life after the diagnosis of a BT. Anyone, anytime, could wind up with a brain tumor, and be instantly thrust into a very frightening life or death struggle!

If someone reading this has a way of raising funds, or needs a tax write-off, or would like to make a donation of any size in honor of Gerry, I urge you to do so. There are many worthy organizations trying to raise money to fund more brain tumor research. One you might consider is the American Brain Tumor Association. You can find them on the web.

Sorry - that's all for my soapbox for now! Suffice to say we had a good time and learned a lot this weekend.

Gerry continues to do well. He is working each day and enjoying a relatively normal life on a day-to-day basis. Thank you, as always, for your thoughts and prayers and for checking on us.

I'm off now to read a nice little 45 page paper I printed from the internet tonight about treatment options for malignant gliomas - just a little light bedtime reading! (I should be asleep in no time!)

Love and blessings,
Laura

Wednesday, January 15, 2003 at 05:46 PM (CST)

Dear family and friends,

Tomorrow morning, we are off to sunny Florida for the Brain Tumor conference. We are looking forward to learning more about what is being done around the country, and to meeting new people who know exactly what we're facing.

Recently, I joined a brain tumor support group on the internet. I have been reading other people's stories and situations for the last week or so. One thing I have realized is how amazingly well Gerry has done throughout this entire ordeal so far. He seems to have dodged the bullet with regards to a lot of the possible radiation and chemo effects. It's like he's being shielded from the worst of all this. I pray that it continues, as I continue to pray for his miracle. Maybe the shield is the first part of the miracle. I sincerely, deeply, with all my heart hope so.

Anyway, I'm sorry this is so short, but I still have loads and loads of stuff to do before we go tomorrow! I wish you all a safe and happy weekend.

Love and blessings,
Laura

Sunday, January 12, 2003 at 08:03 PM (CST)

Dear family and friends,

Another round of chemo has come and gone without incident. Gerry finished his third dose of Temodar on Friday, and like last time, suffered no particularly ill effects. So far, we have been incredibly blessed with how well Gerry's treatment is going and how well his body is tolerating everything. We are acutely aware, however, that things can change quickly, so we ask that you keep praying daily for his miracle!

Later this week, we will be heading out of town for a Brain Tumor Conference in sunny Ft. Lauderdale, Florida. (I'll bet some of you didn't know that BT Conferences even existed! We didn't, either, until fairly recently.) We hope to connect with other survivors and deepen our knowledge of our whole situation. The conference will be attended by various medical personnel as well as survivors and their families.

Our middle child, Jacob, turned 7 years old this week. He had several celebrations with family and friends. Birthdays and holidays have always been large, multi-phase events in our family. Now we have even more reason to want to fully celebrate everything we can.

Gerry is feeling well and says that sometimes he even forgets he's sick. He worked essentially full days all last week, and aside from being tired, felt great. I'll try to get him to take the time to chime in personally again soon.

We were rebels on Friday when we left our 10:00 am radiation oncology follow-up appointment at 11:30 without ever having seen the doctor. At 10:55, the nurse had come out to the waiting room to ask Gerry where he had his MRI done! They didn't even have his scans yet! Completely infuriating. Our time is far too important to us to sit around for an hour and a half with absolutely no explanation nor apology. We told the receptionist that if that doc wants to know how Gerry is doing, he can call Dr. Nabors (our neuro-oncologist/ main doc) and ask! It felt good to take charge and say, "We won't accept this kind of treatment!!!!"

Value your time. Don't let anyone waste it for you.

Speaking of time, I have to go get my little guys in bed. It's a school night!

Love and blessings to you all,
Laura

Tuesday, January 07, 2003 at 12:01 PM (CST)

Dear family and friends,

Thank you for all the extra praying you always do around the time of Gerry's MRI appointments. Keep it up; something's working! As Gerry said, the MRI seems to show "decreased tumor activity," which is definitely a good thing. We can peacefully coexist with this turkey for another 60 or 70 years if it will just not grow.

I spent last weekend at the beach. It was an annual scrapbooking retreat weekend I attend with some fellow Creative Memories leaders. I enjoyed myself, ate some good seafood, walked on the beach, stayed up late with a girlfriend...nice stuff.

In some ways, though, it was kind of hard to be down in Gulf Shores this time. Gerry and I were just there in June for our tenth wedding anniversary. It was about a month before we found out about this new direction our lives would take. We spent a lot of time on that trip discussing our plans and dreams for our future together, some of which has to do with Gulf Shores. We have always wanted to own a condo down there and to eventually retire down there. Ever since the first time I went down in the winter and watched all the sweet snowbird couples walking along the beach, I've wanted to retire there. This time, it wasn't so easy to watch those sweet couples. I no longer have to the naive luxury of assuming we'll make it that far.

The thing is, I never should have been able to make that assumption in the first place. We were never guaranteed to make it that far. Really, the thing that has changed the most is our perception. Now Gerry and I realize fully that we only have today. Beyond right this second, I have no guarantees, no certainty, and no right to assume. On the other hand, we all have to live our lives as if we have some time left. We have to dream, to plan, to work toward a future. Otherwise, what's the point?

So I find myself in a sort of internal debate. On the one hand, there's a strong "seize the day" component, a desire to not forget that life is precious and uncertain. I don't want to lose this new perspective we've gained which is one of the positive things to come from Gerry's cancer. On the other hand, there's the part of me that can't fully live that way, that wants to feel safe. That's the part of me that doesn't want to look at every holiday, birthday, vacation, as if it could be the last. I know I can choose not to look at every occasion that way, but knowing that I can choose doesn't make the actual choosing any easier. It's rather difficult not to let those thoughts creep into every "special occasion." I want to strike a balance between turning my back on that kind of thinking and yet looking at everything as a "special occasion."

It's all about the time. How much time do we have left? What do we do with it? How do we not waste it? Is time getting away from us? Do we look at every passing day as another victory, another day that Gerry is alive and that we're together and that we surround ourselves with love? Do we look at each passing day as one step closer to a very uncertain future? If he only has a year, or five, or ten, then do we mourn the passing days as they go by? It's all about the time.

Time is both predator and prey.

I guess that's where it's helpful to remember that we never really had a guarantee before, and we didn't go around afraid each birthday was the last. I strive to keep the perspective, but lose the fear. That's not an easy task, but I think it's probably my only choice. I don't want to be sad or afraid, and so I have to choose faith. With every passing semi-normal day, it becomes a little easier to maintain the faith that Gerry will survive this, and so will I. God will see us through it.

A friend sent me this quote in an email. It's from a song called "Carol Me Sweetly" by Charles Brown. I've never heard the song myself, but this is the chorus, and I think it nicely sums up what I've said. I will probably even use it for the title page of our 2003 family scrapbook album.


"Then sing me no anthems that mourn the year's passing, no songs yearning back to the what might have been.
Then carol me sweetly of days still before me, of mountains to climb, oceans to swim, of dreams yet to dream, and the faith to begin."


Love and blessings,
Laura

Thursday, January 02, 2003 at 04:18 PM (CST)

I had the MRI this morning followed by the neurologist visit this afternoon. According to Dr. Nabors, everything is progressing well. As well as can be told from the MRI's the tumor is not growing. Clinically, I am doing very well. I am tolerating the chemotherapy treatments well.

We will continue to stay with the current therapy which is doing well. Because of the radiation treatment, there will always be an image of the tumor on the MRI scans. They are now looking much more closely at the contrast images, which show blood flow. If there is no new or larger images undercontrast, they feel pretty certain no new tumor growth is happening.

I feel great, and our lives are approaching pre-cancer normal. I am able to be at work every day, for most of the day. I am still resting in the afternoons, particularly around the week of chemo. I am able to take my chemo treatments at home, at bed time, by taking pills.

Thanks to everyone who continues to pray for my health and for our family. We maintain prayers for everyone in return.

Thank you,

Gerry

Wednesday, January 01, 2003 at 03:16 PM (CST)

Happy New Year, everbody!

We had a very enjoyable time last night. Some of our high school friends came over, most with their children, and we all had a very casual evening. The boys managed to stay up until midnight this time, which they had never quite accomplished before. Last year, I think they made it to about 11:45 and then passed out cold!

Of course, New Year's Day is always a time of reflection, of looking back and looking ahead. A new year lies ahead, with all its promises, plans, and possibilities. For us, it's a time of great hope. We hope to see God's miracle really take shape in our lives in 2003. I don't think either of is is very sad to say goodbye to 2002. It's time to move on.

Last night, I asked each of my children if they had any special hopes, dreams, wishes, or plans for this coming year. Jacob, whose birthday is January 9th and who loves all things cash, said that he hopes for "50 bucks." Patrick, whose birthday is not far behind on February 1st, folowed Jacob's lead and also hoped for "50 bucks." Zak said that he hoped for a good year and that his best friend will be in his class at school when they start 4th grade in the fall.

I try to have those little informal checkpoints with the kids every now and then, partially to see how they might be feeling about Gerry's cancer. It seems clear to me that they are not preoccupied by it, because they don't take those "wishing" kinds of opportunities to talk about Daddy getting better. I think that's great. I am very glad that they don't have to spend a lot of time thinking about Gerry being sick. Gerry doesn't act sick most of the time, so that probably helps them feel normal and safe. The changes they really notice are his naps and dietary restrictions.

I think it was Jacob who told me one time that it's not that he doesn't care about Daddy being sick, but he just doesn't think about it. He doesn't sit around thinking, "Oh, my dad has cancer." I told him that's fine, and that I know he cares, and that I am glad it doesn't bother him very much. I envision the boys' guardian angels wrapped around their little hearts, protecting them from fear and worry.

I don't generally make New Year's resolutions, per se, but I do have some plans for this year. I intend to continue working on improving the overall health of my family, by cooking more of our meals from the highest quality, purest ingredients I can find. I intend to continue learning more about how we can all boost our immune systems through lifestyle changes, and then work toward those changes. I intend to continue making the relationships in my life a top priority, by making time for God, family, and friends. I intend to gradually build my home-based business again, as Gerry's health continues to improve and we get more efficient at our day-to-day tasks. I intend to continue to count my blessings daily, and remember to be thankful for them. I intend to try my best to make every minute count.

Best wishes to you and yours for a wonderful 2003.

We will update after tomorrow's MRI.

Love and blessings,
Laura

Saturday, December 28, 2002 at 02:01 PM (CST)

Greetings, everyone!

Boy, I love the South! It's warm and sunny outside today, and I have kicked all the kids outside to play with their friends and all their new stuff. Gerry is at the movies with his brother, and I have a few minutes of quiet in the house all by myself...nice.

We are having a very full holiday season, as usual, and I guess we wouldn't have it any other way. We have seen many good friends, and spent time with lots of family.

As you may have seen in the guestbook, it is true - my good friend Kristin did beat me in Scrabble last weekend at her house. She even took a picture of the board! Her husband, Alan, also my good friend, beats me about half the time. I later redeemed myself in the wee hours of the morning during a strange mix of Scrabble and giftwrapping. "Pass the tape, pass the letters, write down my score, I need something else to wrap,"...it was a study in multitasking. We do so enjoy our friendly competitions!

After about five days of staying up until at least two in the morning, I have finally gotten some sleep and feel better. Almost everyone in our house is battling a lovely headcold, but, as Ger said, that's normal. We are getting into a fairly good "new normal" routine. Many times when you don't hear from us, there's nothing to tell. I've heard that some people are wondering if Gerry really is as OK as we say he is, since he doesn't chime in on this site as much anymore. Let me assure you, we're brutally honest people. He's doing very well. He just doesn't take the time to post unless I remind him. He goes to work everyday, then comes home in the early afternoon and often heads off for a nap. By the time he gets up, it's time to eat dinner, then get the kids to bed, and then we unwind and collapse. He doesn't think about taking the time to write, partially because things are sort of normal. So, we apologize if you've been worried. Gerry really is doing well.

As Gerry said, the next set of appointments is on January 2nd, and includes another MRI. We try not to get too anxious about that nor to hang too much emphasis on it, because it may not show any change. We are human, though, and would love to hear good news. For me, it's good news to look at Gerry, though, because I can see the difference in how well he is doing now compared with late October/ early November. We are told the chemo will get easier as we go.

Gerry has also officially passed the "worst case scenario" prognosis prediction of two to four months. He is a little over 5 months "out", as they say, or five months since diagnosis. We are going to a Brain Tumor Conference in mid-January, and look forward to meeting other survivors. Our other BT friends who have gone to conferences say that networking with other survivors is wonderful. Maybe we'll even meet someone with Gerry's same diagnosis. We still have never heard of anyone with his exact tumor type. We will also have the chance to meet other doctors and medical professionals who deal with brain tumors. It's a whole new world I never dreamed we'd ever be getting to know.

I have several other trips planned in January, and will actually only be in town for one weekend, the weekend of the 11th, when I'll have my January scrapbooking workshop. I will try to post updates as often as possible, and to remind Gerry to do so in my absence. We will definitely post on the 2nd to let you know what the MRI shows.

Love and blessings,
Laura

Thursday, December 26, 2002 at 11:19 AM (CST)

Merry Christmas to everyone.

I hope everyone's Christmas was a joyful as ours. However, with two big families, we are not done yet. I think our last celebration will be this coming Sunday afternoon.

I am feeling great. Thanks especially to everyone who is keeping me and my family in their prayers. We continue to pray for everyone praying for us.

I am suffering from a minor head cold. But it is nice to have a normal ailment. We have visited friends in Atlanta, and are going to be visiting other long-time friends in Birmingham tonight.

Other news, my next MRI will be on January 2nd, along with a visit to my neuro-oncologist. I will do another round of Chemo the week following.

We will try to update more frequently. Thanks to everyone again for their support.

Love in Christ,

Gerry Kimes

Wednesday, December 18, 2002 at 09:46 AM (CST)

Holiday greetings, everyone!

Boy, the hustle and bustle really grabs me no matter how hard I try to keep it simple. I feel like I've been running around like crazy for weeks!

We have managed to go driving and looking at lights a few times, though. We went to Hayden (north of Birmingham) and enjoyed the display there. There is a farm which is a Pumpkin Patch in the fall, and which has a big drive-thru Christmas lights display in December. It was nice, and we didn't have to get out and walk in the cold like you do at the zoo.

Our church had its Christmas program last weekend. Zak and Jacob participated, but Patrick refused. He seemed to enjoy watching from the safety of Gerry's lap, though. There were parts where the audience participated in singing Christmas carols, and I have to say, I got completely choked up when I looked over at Patrick and Gerry singing together. It was so sweet, and I was overcome with a weird mix of gratitude and fear. I am so grateful that we are here, and doing well, and that Gerry and I and the kids all have each other in the first place. On the other hand, the fear creeps in sometimes and I couldn't help but be terrified that this could be our last Christmas together.

I have never been someone who gets melancholy around the holidays. I've never had a reason to have a hard time with the holiday season. This year, though, it seems that I am having a bit of a hard time, and that makes no sense. We have every reason to be thankful and happy. Gerry is doing well with his treatments and is feeling stronger and more normal all the time. And yet there's fear. It also makes me angry with myself. I keep reminding myself that I can't give up the joy of today for fear of tomorrow, but some days I can't help it for some reason. I think I'm probably just overtired, and stressed. I'm also probably putting too much pressure on myself to make this Christmas somehow more special than previous ones, just in case it's the last.

But truth be told, I should be living every day in that "just in case" mode. We all should. I don't mean that we should be hedonistic, but just try to live with no regrets. I'll regret being scared this Christmas if I don't get my mental game in gear soon. The sunshine and warm temperatures we've had for the past few days are certainly helping. I think when we get out of town tomorrow, I will begin to feel better. We are going to Atlanta for the weekend, to see our dear friends there and celebrate Christmas together. If something doesn't get done by the time we leave tomorrow, it's not getting done, because as of tomorrow afternoon, I will cease to prepare and begin to celebrate.

Going to Atlanta is like escaping for us. Our friends' place is an oasis for us, where we don't have any of our normal stuff to do, and we all just relax and focus on spending time together.

We went last night to have a family portrait made. It wasn't for Christmas, of course. There's not enough time for that. It was just to have a family photo made. A very sweet friend of mine gave us the sitting as a gift. We decided to have a black and white done for two reasons. One, we've never had one. Two, Gerry is bald and I thought it would look cool. Plus, as a bonus, I knew that if he were feeling rather green when we took the photo, it wouldn't show up on black and white! He felt fine, though, thank goodness. The photo session was relaxed and fun, and the kids mostly behaved. (We bribed them with ice cream!) We should get some good shots. We'll post one when we get them back after Christmas.

Well, since Gerry and I have never gotten organized enough to send Christmas cards, please accept our wish for all of you to have a most blessed and joyous holiday season. I know it's not very personalized, but it's the best we can do. Sometimes, you've just gotta let some things go!

We do pray daily for "all the people who are praying for us." The boys include it in their litany of prayers, too. We are grateful to all of you for the support you give us and we send you our love, now and always.

If we don't happen to post again before Christmas, have a very Merry Christmas!

Love and blessings,
Laura

Wednesday, December 11, 2002 at 04:36 PM (CST)

Hi all!

Everything is still going well with us. We are so thankful that this time around was better. That is a Christmas present for us! It's so nice to have Gerry feeling well as we head into Christmas. We are trying to have a very family centered holiday season - stringing cranberries, driving around to look at Christmas lights, etc. Yesterday, the boys were thrilled when I suggested we make Rice Krispy treats together after school. You know, it really is true that it's the little things in life that mean the most. If any of you know of a fabulous Christmas light display in the Birmingham metro area, I'd love to hear about it. We have always enjoyed driving around at Christmastime, listening to some of our Christmas CDs, in search of beautiful (or even really gaudy) displays. It's great cheap entertainment.

Lately, I have had the opportunity to spend at least a little individual time with each of my boys. They are so rapidly becoming their own people. SOmetimes I realize that I haven't actually had a conversation with any of them in a while, so it's nice to have a little one-on-one time just to listen to them. One of the true pleasures of parenthood is getting to know these little creatures and learning how their minds work.

Besides Christmas songs, I'v ehad one particular song on my internal soundtrack quite a bit lately. I don't know who sings it, because it is on a homemade compilation CD that a friend of Gerry's cousin sent us. Anyway, here are some of the words:

Things aren't exactly as I thought they would be.
I won't pretend, disappointment's never free.
The sky's on fire
Feels like the sky's on fire.

I may be young but I'm feeling old
Like somebody borrowed years
And I found out they are sold
But I still love you, although my sky's on fire.

Refrain:
To the Author of Life
Be the Author of my life
To the Author, do you hear me sing?


That song describes perfectly some of the things I've been through in the last few months. "The sky's on fire" is a perfect description of how I felt when it looked like everything I thought my life would be was going up in smoke. I have grand plans to raise a little family and grow old with Gerry watching our grandchildren grow. That didn't seem overly ambitious until July. That kind of disappointment is certainly costly.

I know I have talked before about feeling old, and that my mental age at any given moment is a good barometer of how I'm feeling in general. I don't think the years that were borrowed from me are sold, though. Lately, I feel pretty young again. Things around here have been trying to approach normal, and that helps me feel early thirties instead of early eighties.

I love the line that says, "I still love you, although my sky's on fire." I do love God, and have turned this mess over to Him in a lot of ways. I trust Him to author all of this for us, and lead us through it. More and more I get the feeling that things are going to be OK for us.

Well, I'm going to finish up the last of my Christmas shopping on line now, and hopefully get all registered for a brain tumor conference that we want to attend in Fort Lauderdale in January. Gotta go see if Delta will let us fly down on frequent flyer miles...

I hope all of you take some time out to stop and smell the wassail, and maybe have a real-live, honest-to-goodness conversation with someone you love. Give yourself that holiday gift.

Love and blessings,
Laura

Monday, December 09, 2002 at 09:25 PM (CST)

The second round of chemo is over, and went remarkably better than the first round. The changes we made with our doctor for anti-nausea medicine worked out wonderfully. I did not miss a meal, nor a day of work. This round has taken away my fears for having to have chemo for a year or more.

Everything is going well in our family's preparations for Christmas. We have pretty much finished our shopping, except of course my shopping for Laura, but I don't need a tumor to excuse that. I am a man, which means that Christmas shopping starts 12/24. We are trying to spend time with our boys doing Christmas activities. As we like to say at work, "It's all good".

Life is starting to even out. Laura and I both commented last week that it still feels like we are stuck in July. It is hard to believe that the end of the year is almost here. Our new routines are becoming normal.

Sincerely, Gerry


Dear friends and family,

We're putting in a double entry tonight. Maybe that will compensate for our long absence this week. It was a busy week, but a good one. As Gerry mentioned, this round was sooooo much better than the first one. We call that first round our learning curve round. I was more prepared for a bad week this time, though. I had help all lined up and tried to get organized for what I thought was going to be Gerry's two week absence. That was how it felt last time - like Gerry was away for a while. This time, he stayed!

Even though Ger was much better this time, I still needed help getting all the Christmas decorations up. That's where my friends came in. My friend Kristin came over from Atlanta and helped me all weekend. I hated to see her go home today. Our friend Margot came on Saturday, and she and Kristin and I managed to get most of the outdoor stuff done. We were spared from braving the roof, though, when my neighbor, Spike, put the lights on the house. Actually, several neighbors had volunteered to help with that. We have such a great community of neighbors who are really friends.

Our plan for Saturday night was to have a fairly quiet night at home with our friends and put up the Christmas tree with the kids. You know what they say about the best laid plans...our children had a different plan. We spent Saturday night in the ER of Children's Hospital!

It seems that while we adults were trying to get dinner on the table, my boys decided to play that timeless classic, "cops and robbers." That was all well and good until somebody had the bright idea to tie the robber's hands behind his back. Even that went well through Zak's and Patrick's turns to be the robber. Jacob was not so lucky, however. While "handcuffed" thusly, poor Jacob managed to escape the arresting officers, but had the misfortune to trip while fleeing. He pitched forward into the front hall whereup he hit the hardwood floor face-first, with nothing but his chin to catch him.

When we came running in response to the ensuing bloodcurdling screams, we discovered that Jacob had split his chin all the way to the jawbone. Yuck! He was incredibly brave about it ,though. He had four stitches on the inside and six on the outside. When it was all over, he said, "Mom, I'm gonna be the coolest boy in first grade!" I think he already was.

The good news about that story is that we weren't blamed for the accident at the ER, and so nobody called Child Protective Services on us! It makes me nervous to go to the ER because I know the staff is trained to look carefully at "accidents." It's weird to go somewhere you know you're suspect until proven innocent. It has to be that way, though.

The rest of the weeken dwas mercifully uneventful, with occasional glimpses of normal. I guess with three boys, a trip to the ER for a stitched chin is actually pretty normal!

Love and blessings,
Laura

Tuesday, December 03, 2002 at 05:04 PM (CST)

***Day Two of the December chemo cycle***

Dear everyone,

Well, last night, Ger began this round of chemo. Today, he went to work and stayed almost all day. He has also eaten well today. Now he is taking a well deserved nap.

So as you can tell, so far so good! This time, he has gotten onto a better anti-nausea routine. He started taking the anti-nausea drug on Sunday night, and then took it three times yesterday before taking the chemo last night. He was moving a little slowly this morning, but he says he is feeling well.

He does have a bit of a head cold, which is particularly bad timing, but what can you do? I figure he's probably moving slowly because we had a very active day yesterday. We were on the go all day, and then moved some furniture around in the afternoon, followed by a Christmas party in the evening. That's a lot for him these days.

I know this is short, and not particularly deep or meaningful, but I did want to update you because I knew people would be wondering how the chemo is going. Gerry will take the second of these 5 doses tonight at bedtime. Right now I'm off to spend some time with the kids.

Love always,
Laura

Sunday, December 01, 2002 at 09:14 PM (CST)

Dear friends and family,

This will have to be rather brief because I am worn out from all the Thanksgiving festivities!

We hope all of you had enjoyable times with loved ones this weekend. We certainly did. I think we've possibly had enough turkey now to last us another year. (But never enough sweet potato casserole for my taste!)

Gerry was able to eat fairly normally all weekend long, which was just another thing for which to be thankful! We had a nice time with Gerry's family on Thursday, then a very relaxing evening with my parents and some family friends on Friday. (We had lasagna - a nice break!)

Tonight, we finished off the holiday with a gathering with the other side of Gerry's family.

On Thursday, Gerry and I were talking about how we couldn't believe Thanksgiving was here already. I told him that I feel like I'm still kind of stuck back in late July. It's like the whole world went "Screech!" and came to a standstill, and I'm still digesting all that has happened. Gerry said he feels the same way. Our minds are still trying to get back in gear with all the new information.

Anyhow, Gerry has been feeling increasingly well lately. The really cruel joke is that now that he is feeling pretty normal again, it's time for him to start chemo again tomorrow. At least we know that he CAN feel good in between treatments. Knowledge is power.

Thanks for your continued prayers for us, and for the blessings you are to us.

Love,
Laura

Monday, November 25, 2002 at 04:06 PM (CST)

Hello, friends and family.

What a difference a week can make! Last weekend, when we were in Atlanta, Gerry slept almost the whole time. He was exhausted. Even when he was awake, he wasn’t fully there. He just wasn’t himself. By Wednesday, though, he was back. He was sleeping less that 80 hours a week, and he was beginning to return to being the same smart-aleck guy I’ve loved for 17 years. This weekend, our Atlanta friends were here, and they definitely noticed the change. The old Gerry is back, at least for now. It may get rough again when he resumes chemo next week, but it’s nice to know that for part of the month he’ll be his old self. More prayers answered!

As I was riding around today running errands, I was, for some reason, thinking about the sequence of events in my life over the last year or so. It never ceases to amaze me how things always seem to work out. For example, this time last year, Gerry and I were under a lot of stress trying to decide what to do about our kids’ schooling. We knew that we wanted to pull them out of the school they were attending, but we weren’t sure when to do it, or exactly where to put them instead. We considered going back to home schooling, putting them in a different private school, or sending them to our neighborhood public school. We finally decided to go with the public school, but were still torn about pulling them out mid-year versus waiting until the start of this school year to make the change. Ultimately, we decided to change after last year’s Christmas break. It was a little difficult, but not nearly as bad as we thought it might be. As it turned out, we couldn’t be happier with the school and the faculty and administration there. Also, thank goodness we changed last year! I can’t imagine how hard it would have been for all of us, but especially the boys, if they had been starting a brand new school this August in the midst of a family crisis.It all worked out.

Here’s another example: Last spring, when I was considering the upcoming year, (I think I will forever be on the school calendar and think of “years” in terms of school years, from fall to fall,) I was deciding which of my activities to keep and which to drop. I was feeling spread too thinly last year and wanted to pare down. I decided I would spend the upcoming school year focused on my family and my business. I dropped almost every activity, including turning down a very good friend who is also this year’s PTA president, when she asked me to handle the school newsletter. It was hard, but I told her I needed to take a year off from everything. She understood. I dropped almost everything, and refused to sign up for anything. I thought I would be spending this year getting more organized at home, baking cookies after school, and building my business. Now I’m so glad that I did turn everything down, so that I can spend this year taking care of my family, and focusing on getting Gerry well. My business can wait another year or two at its current state. It’s all working out. God helps me to move all the puzzle pieces around in just the right way, even when I’m not sure why they’re moving.

I’ve been a big believer in seasons of life. I believe I can have anything and everything I want for myself, just not all at the same time. I need to sequence the things I want to do, based on my family’s needs at the time. Now is the time for me to focus inward and take care of the homefront. To that end, I’ve been trying to get my holiday shopping done as early as possible this year. I want to spend as much time as possible enjoying the season with my family. I want to play games, spend evenings driving around looking at Christmas lights, and make decorations with the kids, not rush around to the malls chasing down the latest must-have toys for my kids. Even my children seem to be sensing that we have a different sort of holiday in store for us this year. They only asked for a few things, not their usual millions. When I asked them for a few more gift ideas, they actually said they had enough toys! Can you believe it? Could it be that their priorities are maturing?

Well, as Thanksgiving rapidly approaches, I consider all that I have for which to be thankful. I am thankful for the way life's puzzle pieces always seem to fit, for the beautiful fall weather we’re enjoying, for a truer sense of this Christmas season, for children who may finally be getting the real meaning of things, for another month together, for joy in the journey, for the chance to postpone chemo until after Thanksgiving, for Gerry's ability to eat a little and enjoy the holiday, and for the opportunity to tell you all how much you mean to us.

Thank you for all of your prayers, and may God give you such a multiplicity of reasons to be thankful that you can’t possibly list them all.

Love and blessings,
Laura

Friday, November 22, 2002 at 04:39 PM (CST)

Hello everyone!

Wow. Days like today are one of God's most magnificent achievements. Today was one of those fantastic Fall days. The sky was blue, the sun was bright, the air was crisp, and the leaves were spectacular. There is one particular tree that I watch every year, waiting for it to change colors, because I know that it will be amazing when it does. It is now in full splendor, and when I passed it today on my way to pick up Patrick from school, I just had to stop for a moment and admire it. I thanked God, out loud (I was alone in my car!), for putting a tree like that in my path. It fills me with joy just to see color and beauty like that. I just adore the Fall.

Did you ever catch yourself looking at a kid and thinking, "Boy, he sure has it good, and he doesn't even know it!"? I have. I look at my school aged kids, and I know that their biggest worry is this week's spelling test or whether they get invited to a buddy's birthday party. Their biggest responsibilities are not losing their jackets, picking up their toys, and not waking Daddy from his afternoon nap. They get out of school, knowing that Gerry or I will be there to pick them up, knowing that they can get a snack at home and head out to ride bikes with the neighbors' kids. A lot of us had it that good as kids. I know I did. I had a white picket fence kind of childhood. The irony is that we, like my children, didn't fully appreciate the simplicity and freedom we had. We just didn't get it. By the time we "got it," it was gone!

That makes me wonder, am I "getting it" now? Do I fully appreciate what I have and the way my life is at this stage? I hope so, but I doubt it. I think we should probably just continually strive to fully appreciate all that we have wherever we are in life. It's that whole "attitude of gratitude" thing.

That's an appropriate mindset, I guess, considering that Thanksgiving is next week. We are looking forward to it now that Gerry is able to eat a little more. We are also happy to report that as of tomorrow, Gerry will have outlived the initial, terribly grim progosis of 2 to 4 months! We love to celebrate every little milestone possible!

Hopefully we will write again before Thursday, but if not for some reason, we wish all of you a wonderful Thanksgiving with people you love, and a truly grateful appreciation of the beauty of your lives.

Love and blessings,
Laura

Tuesday, November 19, 2002 at 04:47 PM (CST)

Hello everyone!

We are home after a fun weekend with friends. It rained and was cold all weekend, but we managed to find things to do with the kids. We did initiate our friends into the world of Chuck E. Cheese. It is a crazy place – no one should go alone the first time. You need someone to help orient you and keep you sane!

Sunday we took the kids to an indoor climbing wall. Zak loves that, and was able to get pretty far up the wall. This time, Patrick gave it a shot, too. He did well, making it up the wall to about twice his height before fear took over and he came down. That’s pretty good considering he was the smallest guy out there.

Gerry had an appointment with his Neuro-Oncologist yesterday for a checkup after this first round of “big chemo,” as we call it. His blood work is looking fine, with all of his counts where they should be, so that’s great news. He still looks good clinically, i.e., he can touch his nose with each hand with his eyes closed and perform other equally useful tasks. The doc was explaining to us that this is the valley for BT patients. This time of big chemo after radiation is particularly tough because the fatigue and toxicity are still present from the radiation and chemo before, even though there was a “rest” period, and then we have to add the larger dose chemo on top of everything. Dr. Nabors said that the fatigue generally gets better over time as we get further away from the radiation. Speaking of time, we did ask today how long the chemo cycles will continue. He said Gerry will have at least 12 cycles and maybe even as many as 24. That’s when he started telling us that this is really the worst part. He said he knows it’s hard to imagine spending a year or even two feeling the way Gerry does right now, but that it will get better.

Dr. Nabors also helped us work out a strategy to try to get on top of the nausea next time. After this next cycle, which will start the Monday after Thanksgiving, Gerry will have another MRI. Hopefully, that scan will show that the chemo is working, although it may show no change at all, which is also good. Anything but growth is good news.

That does not apply to hair growth – hair growth IS good news, at least to Gerry. His eyebrows, which had previously fallen out over only half of each eye, are growing back! A casual observer probably can’t tell they were ever gone now. That’s morale boosting, because Gerry was very unhappy about walking around with eyebrows that only went halfway across where they were supposed to go! We are also seeing some fuzz peeking out on the top and left side of his head. The right is still clean as a whistle, but I hope that will regrow in time, too. Radiation hair loss seems to be a different animal from chemo hair loss. (Ger’s chemo doesn’t cause hair loss.) Radiation hair loss only occurs where the radiation actually was, and we can tell which parts of his head got more or less radiation by how much hair is there! He has a patch in the back that never fell out. The boys, who have been watching the movie, “Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon,” want him to grow that section really long and braid it like the Kung Fu guys. Personally, I think that would be a good look for him. It would go with his new quieter, gentler, Zen-Ger personality. The problem is, it would take way too many years to get that long. I suggested (in jest, of course) that he grow it long enough for a hair weave! He doesn’t always appreciate my humor…

On a totally different subject…I’m the kind of person who likes to make connections between events, ideas, etc. Maybe it’s part of being a Southerner. One of my favorite authors, Anne George, who lived and wrote some hysterical books right here in Birmingham, once wrote that Southerners like to “connect the dots.” She said that if you put two Southerners, who are complete strangers, in a room, they would immediately have something to discuss. It wouldn’t be the weather, though. They would be trying to figure out whom they know in common. It’s just in our DNA to make connections, I guess. I also do that. I’ve mentioned connections on this site when I’ve talked about “God winks,” or those little not-so-random things that happen to us coincidentally to make things easier. Those of you who know me as a fellow Creative Memories Consultant know that I once gave a talk at an Area Meeting about Newton’s Laws of Motion as they apply to our CM businesses. I like to connect all kinds of dots. I connected some Sunday night.

As I was driving us back from Atlanta Sunday night, the boys were watching a movie on the laptop, and Ger was napping. I was taking advantage of the quiet by praying the Rosary. For non-Catholics, let me explain a little about the Rosary. To me, praying the Rosary is a way of asking Mary to pray with me. It is a devotion, a form of prayer in which we meditate on different events in Christ’s life and Mary’s part in His life. There are ten decades, or sets of prayers, to the rosary. During each decade, we meditate on a certain Mystery, or event in the life of Jesus. There are different sets of Mysteries, but the ones I always use are called the Joyful Mysteries. This is mostly because those are the only ones I know by heart. The repetitive prayers of the decades provide a good background and rhythm to keep me focused on that decade’s Mystery, or meditation. So that’s my quick understanding of the Rosary, and I put it here to give you background, if you aren’t familiar with it.

So anyway, I was driving and praying the Joyful Mysteries. As I did so, instead of thinking about them in a purely Biblical times kind of way, I started to see parallels, or sort of a message for me in my life today. I began to connect the dots. The first Joyful Mystery is the Annunciation, when the angel tells Mary that she will be the mother of the Saviour. Mary was young, and unmarried, and probably afraid and bewildered. The angel didn’t say, “Would you like to be Christ’s mother?” He just said it was so. She had no choice. Her only choice was about how she would react to the news. She accepted her new lot in life, even though she surely didn’t understand why she was chosen, nor the full impact of what was happening to her. I started thinking about how that’s like what happened to us. Out of the blue, we were given news that was frightening, and confusing, and we had no choice about it. We didn’t know why this happened, nor where it would (or will) lead our lives. We just had to accept it.

The second Joyful Mystery is the Visitation, when Mary goes to see Elizabeth. The baby (John) in Elizabeth’s womb leapt for joy upon Mary’s greeting. John recognized that Jesus was present. That brought to mind how our new situation has taught us to recognize Jesus in new ways. We see the Divine in people, places, and situations like we never would have before. That is a blessing.

The third Joyful Mystery is the birth of Jesus. Jesus was born to save us. He was human, and real. He grew to teach people about His father, to perform miracles, and to save humanity. I believe that He still works to teach us about God, and that He still performs miracles. He still saves us, and I believe He will give us a miracle and save Gerry. I am reminded that when I’m feeling afraid, Jesus is still present in a very real way in my life. I can rely on Him for strength and comfort.

The fourth Joyful Mystery is the presentation of Jesus in the temple. According to the law and custom of the time, Joseph and Mary brought Jesus to be consecrated to the Lord. Simeon was there, and saw Jesus, and recognized Him as the Saviour. Simeon began to glorify Jesus. We must try daily to offer our situation to the Lord, praying that we might glorify Him in the way we present ourselves, and in our handling of this crisis.

The fifth Joyful Mystery is the finding of Jesus in the temple. When Mary and Joseph found Jesus in the temple after three days of searching, I’m sure they were overjoyed. They were understandably irritated that He’d been lost, but I would think that, as parents, they were ecstatic to find Him unharmed. I’m reminded of how our Father feels when we have been absent from Him, and then are subsequently restored to a close relationship with Him. He is surely overjoyed to have us back in the fold. We have suspected that one of our purposes in enduring this trial is to bring ourselves, and even possibly others, into a closer relationship with God. Perhaps our struggle is helping to improve someone’s prayer life. I know it has changed forever the way that I think of God, and His presence in my life.

He is much more an everyday companion of mine than ever before. I am much more likely to praise Him and thank Him and turn to Him than I ever was before. I trust Him like I never did before, and I’m learning to listen for His message like never before. It’s a richer existence.

Love and blessings,
Laura

Saturday, November 16, 2002 at 05:06 PM (CST)

Hello everyone from Atlanta where we are currently the guests of our great friends Kristin and Alan Glaser. We spent the afternoon in Chuck E. Cheese (Hell), a first for the Glasers, an entirely too regular occurrance for the Kimeses.

We are enjoying good company and a relaxing weekend with no real plans except to be fodder for Laura to beat at Scrabble. She studied the Scrabble dictionary on the way from Birmingham. Not like she really needs help to beat the rest of us. For me, it is like watching NASCAR for the wrecks.

I have been feeling well and at peace all week. I have completely lost the taste for wheat, including not being able to stand the smell of it. Strange changes my body is going through, but all are blessings in that I can only experience them if I am still here and kicking. Even traffic can be viewed as a blessing, I use the time in traffic to remind myself to slow down enough to reflect on the beauty around me, and all of God's blessings.

If any of you get the chance, catch the last show of "Late Night Catechism" at the Alice Stephens center at UAB, Sunday night at 7:30pm. We caught the show on Thursday night. It was a wonderful one-nun show. Particularly funny if you have ever gone to Catholic School. Still funny if you were a "public" student.

I need to go now, as I am falling asleep on the keyboard. I need a nap before Scrabble.

Love in Christ,

Gerry Kimes

Monday, November 11, 2002 at 08:22 PM (CST)

Dear friends and family,

Things have calmed down after a busy and enjoyable weekend. Our church was hosting a regional convention, so we were able to visit with dear friends whom we don't often see. That's always a treat.

Gerry continues to feel fairly well, although food is still not very appealing to him. He has to force himself to eat what little he does. Today, though, we decided to look at it in a different way. We have read a bit about fasting and how the body can rid itself of toxins and unwanted materials through fasting. So perhaps we can look at his lack of appetite as his body's way of imposing a fast, so that he might rid himself not only of the toxins from the chemotherapy but also of the tumor itself. He will still try to eat, of course, but we choose to embrace his small appetite rather than fret over it.

We were with some people today who prayed over us and with us. It was another amazing experience of God's love for us. One of the people praying for us mentioned that God doesn't waste anything. He uses everything and every situation for His purpose if we let Him. I have mentioned before my sense that our current burden is serving a purpose in the lives of others. Some of these situations are known to us, some have been mentioned in guestbook entries, and I get the feeling that some are completely private to those experiencing them. We continue to be grateful for this forum, which, if it weren't for Gerry's cancer, we wouldn't have. Many of you would never have even heard of us.

Now, though, because of this tumor in our lives, and the journey that we are taking, we have something to say, some way to say it, and someone to listen to us. It is a very humbling thing to try to write what is happening to us and within us, and to know that so many will read it. It is humbling to think that something we say may have an effect on someone else's life. And yet, that's what we see happening. I try to let God work through me here. I try to write without much editing - although those who know me know that I am compelled to edit for grammar and punctuation. My point is, I just begin writing and let the words take me where they will.

Another thing mentioned today was God's shield of protection for Gerry. That was particularly meaningful to me because of something I first heard 11 years ago, at our betrothal ceremony. In our church, there is a ceremony for engaged couples. As our priest blessed the rings that we would exchange at our wedding, he said that our rings would always be a shield of protection for us. I was really taken by that image. Our love for each other, and our bond as a couple who were joined by God, symbolized by our wedding bands, would be our shield throughout our lives. Gerry used to take his ring off at night to sleep. When he became sick, I remember half-teasingly chastising him that he should never remove his ring, because it's his shield. Now he doesn't remove it.

If we are chosen to endure this trial, then it is because we are strong enough to bear it. Our relationship, our support system, our faith are all strong enough for this test. "Before," when I would hear of someone's hardship, and of how strong that person was, I would remember the saying about how God never gives us more than we can handle. I used to stop and thank God that He thought I was weak, since He had never given me anything truly tough to handle! Now I can only assume that we are tough enough to handle this, and I can remind myself to handle it little by little and day by day.

At Gerry's last appointment with his neuro-oncologist in October, the doctor was showing us the latest MRI scans and how the tumor looked slightly smaller. He also said that the white area on the MRI would always be there, that even if the tumor dies, the MRI will look cloudy because of scar tissue. Two things struck me about that. The first is that the doctor was talking about "always" with regard to Gerry. He was talking in terms of a lengthy future for Gerry. That "always" was a term of hope. The other thing that struck me was that having him say that the MRI would always look that way seemed very much like God setting the stage for a complete reversal of this situation down the road. I used to think his healing would have to be all at once and very dramatic to be recognized as miraculous, but now...I know that a gradual healing that leaves no trace on the MRI is just as dramatic, and I've known from the beginning that any healing at all will be miraculous.

I have confidence in that healing. I have faith that God is taking care of us in His way, in His time. We are patient and accept that this may be a long road to recovery, but we believe that Gerry will recover. For now, we will keep praying that the tumor will continue to lose it's grip on Gerry, and that fear and trepidation, which are not of God, will continue to lose their grip on both of us. It is by God's hand that Gerry is still walking, talking, working, and functioning, and it will be by God's hand that he triumphs over this affliction.

Yesterday, our priest read us a small passage from a book he has about the writings of Cardinal John Newman. Someone had asked Cardinal Newman, "How does the world manifest tokens of God's presence?" His answer, in part:

How then, it may be asked, can this world have upon it tokens of His presence, or bring us near to Him? Yet certainly so it is, that in spite of the world's evil, after all, He is in it and speaks through it, though not loudly. When He came into the flesh "He was in the world, and the world was made by Him, and the world knew Him not." Nor did He strive nor cry, nor lift up His voice in the streets. So it is now. He is still here; He still whispers to us, He still makes signs to us. But His voice is so low, and the world's din is so loud, and His signs are so covert, and the world is so restless, that it is difficult to determine when He addresses us, and what He says. Religious men cannot but feel, in various ways, that His Providence is guiding them and blessing them personally, on the whole; yet when they attempt to put their finger upon the times and places, the traces of His presence disappear.

from Newman for Everyone edited by Jules M. Brady, SJ

We can't micromanage the ultimate macromanager. He has a plan, and we don't often know much about it in advance, but I do believe that if we're quiet, and still, and open,...sometimes we can figure out enough of it to feel peace. I think that's what happened to me today. When we left the prayer session today, my internal soundtrack was blasting the refrain to a song I don't even really know. I just know a tiny bit of it from a commercial on TV - but it says "God is in control" and something about not being forsaken. Even though I just know that little bit, it was loud and clear to me today.

Somehow, in God's time, this will all be OK. Meanwhile, we are, through the grace of God and the help of all your prayers and support, up for the challenge.


Peace and blessings,
Laura

Wednesday, November 06, 2002 at 03:45 PM (CST)

Hello everyone!

What a beautiful day we're having here in Birmingham today! We have had sooooo much rain recently that I think we were all beginning to wonder if we'd ever see the sun again!

Sorry it's been a while since our last update. Things have been kind of rough around here for a while. Gerry had his first round of the heavier chemo last week. He took it Monday through Friday. As we already shared, Monday he got sick because he didn't take the anti-nausea meds first, but Tuesday was better. As the week progressed, he was more and more wrung out and sick to his stomach. He wasn't throwing up, but he couldn't eat. He pretty much stopped eating all together on Thursday. So, of course, he became weaker and weaker and began to sleep most of the day.

He went to work for a little while Friday after staying home in bed on Thursday. On Saturday, we went to a family birthday party, after which he came home and crashed. He slept from 3:30 Saturday afternoon until 9 that night, woke up for about an hour, and then slept until about 11 Sunday morning. I tried to take care of him the best I could, but there wasn't much I could do except try to make sure he had the opportunity to sleep and that he stayed hydrated. He just couldn't eat - nothing sat well.

Meanwhile, I had my Creative Memories Open House on Sunday, which went well. On Monday, our youngest son, Patrick, stayed home from school with a sinus infection. Gerry was still really sick and weak, so he stayed home, too. I took Patrick to the pediatrician and got antibiotics. I got some, too, since I am also battling a sinus infection. We also put in a call to the nurse practitioner at Ger's neuro-oncologist's office. She was able to call in a different anti-nausea medicine for him, so I picked it up with the rest of the meds. Ger slept from about noon to 5 pm on Monday, and awoke feeling semi-ok, so we agreed to go to a family function at a nearby Japanese restaurant we all love. That night, (Monday), Gerry was able to eat for the first time since Thursday. I was so happy I could have cried!

Yesterday, he woke up feeling pretty well, so he decided to try to work a few hours. I was going to drive him, though, since he was still fairly weak and his reaction times were slowed. Meanwhile, our second son, Jacob, woke up with a stomach virus. He was very sick all day yesterday, and I had fun trying to juggle getting Zak to school and back, Gerry to work and back, both of us out to vote, and keeping Jacob at home and away from everyone! In between emptying "the bucket," I was running around with the can of Lysol spraying everything but Jacob's face! Thanks to Gerry's dad and Godmother, who both helped, we managed to get everyone where they needed to be all day. By bedtime, I was exhausted! Of course, Jacob was up for a while in the night, and then Zak was up with a bad dream. So I'm still exhausted, but I think I have time for a quick nap before Family Night tonight.

Today, Hallelujah, everyone woke up feeling much better!!!!!!!! Plus, the sun is finally out! Gerry was able to go back to work for a while again today, and Jacob should be ship-shape for school tomorrow, and so far, no one else is throwing up. Things are definitely looking up.

It was so easy to get discouraged and so tempting to lose heart while Gerry was so sick. He was weak and not himself, and it seemed that his quality of life was terribly poor. I was scared of losing him while he's still here - losing so much of him to the drugs that he's not really him anymore. I found myself wondering if the chemo would kill him before the tumor ever has a chance to. I am ashamed of myself for being so easily knocked off course. I need to believe and trust in God always, even when things look dark. I know that next month's chemo might be worse because the dose will be even higher, but I also know that after about a week or so, he WILL start to feel better. That knowledge brings strength. Gerry is much more himself today, and I see God's light bringing us out of the tunnel.

We have been renting comedy movies and stand-up routines and trying to find opportunities to laugh and enjoy life any way we can. If you have a favorite comedy that never fails to make you laugh, sign in and tell us about it! Watching funny videos helped get us through some of the chemo anxiety. After that first night when he got so sick, it was a little tough for Gerry to want to take the next dose, knowing that the effects would just build throughout the week. We would pop in a video, then Ger would take his drugs, and then we would lie very still in bed and watch the movie, distracted from the anticipation of getting sick. We were able to turn a sort of scary, unpleasant situation into a semi-pleasant ritual. I'm all about creating little rituals. They're very comforting.

Lately, I have mentioned to a couple of people that it seems that God is trying to see how much I can juggle at once. Mom was in the hospital for a week, and as soon as she got out, Ger started chemo and was really sick all week while I tried to care for him, care for the kids, and get ready for Open House. Then, the minute he began to turn the corner and eat again, my kids started getting sick. However, I am learning just how much I really can juggle, and still maintain some sense of sanity. I feel strengthened by these trials, and kind of empowered. I know that God gives me the grace to keep moving and keep doing what needs to be done in order to take care of the people I love. I also feel like His grace is multiplied in me by your prayers for us. I am, as always, grateful for your prayers and thoughts and messages of hope and encouragement.

I am going to go take care of me now, and grab a quick nap before dinner tonight. We continue to pray for abundant blessings for all of you and your families. Thank you for checking on us.

Love and blessings,
Laura

Friday, November 01, 2002 at 12:27 PM (CST)

Hi everyone, I am feeling slightly better today, yes the chemo has put a damper on my tap dancing. I wasn't very good in the first place, so no one has missed it.

I am lucky to have such a wonderful wife who helps keep me in line. When I am staring off into space, she reminds me to get up and move. I tell her that the dilly-dallying and the dawdling haven't really been a problem, but when I start dragging my feet, it really puts a crimp in available time for other activities, such as work.

Speaking of work, my boss has been so supportive, reminding me to take the time I need to get better.
Last night of chemo for this first round is tonight. When I find what works for me with this regimen, I should be able to handle the chemo pretty well. It is very strange to me not to be hungry, anyone who has ever seen me knows that I have not missed many meals. Luckily I have those stores to carry me for a few days(or weeks if need be).

I am heading home for a long nap this afternoon. Thank you as always for the prayers.

Love in Christ,

Gerry

Thursday, October 31, 2002 at 02:26 PM (CST)

Hi everyone!

This will be a fairly quick update, as I am busy trying to get ready for my Creative Memories Open House this weekend, as well as make sure our ducks are in a row for Halloween tonight! As you can tell, no matter what else is happening, life does go on.

So I know you're all wondering how Gerry is doing. He has had three nights of chemo. The first night was kind of rough, but the next two were better because he took the anti-nausea medicine. It seems that the chemo is beginning to wear on him. He's kind of dragging, and fighting a headcold, and his stomach is never quite right, so food is not very interesting. Yuck.

It's really hard for me to see him feeling rotten like this. It hurts that there isn't more I can do to help him. He's doing an amazing job of balancing his body's need for rest with his spirit's need to push on through some of this. He doesn't give in to the yuck, but knows when to take a day off to rest and rebuild. Only two more doses in this cycle...

I'm trying to strike a balance of my own - somewhere between fiercely protecting Gerry's immunity in every way I can and yet being reasonable. So far, I have been able to hold back the urge to completely disinfect the kids before I let them walk in the door in the afternoons, but it's a struggle! Especially when I hear that there is some sort of stomach virus going around. The last thing Gerry needs right now in his compromised state is some opportunistic virus or bacteria. I guess I'll just have to trust the parents of the other kids not to send their kids to school sick.

That's it for now. I'll try to get Ger to chime in tomorrow or the next day. Thank you, as always, for your continued prayers. I know we'll get through this. I keep thinking of a family friend who spent a very rough year going through some heavy duty drug therapy for her own serious illness. She wasn't herself for that year, ad the drugs were very debilitating, but she's well now. The drugs did their job, and her body rebuilt, and she is her old self again. That's the power of prayer, and spirit, and determination, and love. We have all those things. We'll make it through this.

Love and blessings to you and your families,
Laura

Tuesday, October 29, 2002 at 08:40 AM (CST)

Well, the first night of Heavier Chemo went OK, I woke up at 3am and was sick, but I took the anti-nausea medicine and was fine to go back to sleep. I will take the anti-nausea medicine with the chemo tonight and I should not be sick tonight.

I feel well enought this morning to work, so here I am, at work, doing personal internet things, only for a few minutes. Laura & I appreciate everyone's support, even old high school friends we have not kept in touch with. People still say they don't know what to say. It is difficult for everyone to deal with, even more so for people we haven't seen in years. Even though we may not have been in touch, it is a two way street. Don't feel like you failed. We only graduated with hundreds of people, it is a little tough to keep up with all but the best of friends for 10-15 years. We still like to hear from you.

Sincerely in Christ,

Gerry Kimes

Monday, October 28, 2002 at 04:09 PM (CST)

Hello everyone!

I'm happy to announce that my mother got out of the hospital yesterday! She is well on the road to recovery, and while I will miss the quality time we've been spending together, I am glad to see her get out of there. Now she and I can both get back to our "normal" lives - whatever "normal" is. Thank you for all your prayers for her.

Gerry survived his weekend of inventory and the long work hours that brought, and we had a nice time with our friends on Saturday night. Yesterday, I strongly encouraged him to sleep for a large part of the day so that he wouldn't be starting chemo tonight already exhausted. It didn't take much convincing. In fact, he's napping now. A very sweet friend brought us some really yummy soup for dinner, which has made my life easier today. She even made sure it was all stuff that Gerry could eat! He and I will tag team tonight, because he has Kung Fu from 6 to 7, and then I have somewhere to be at 7:15. Having dinner already prepared is such a great help. Thanks, Virginia!

I am quite a bit behind on everything I'm supposed to be doing these days - running my business, learning more about our new nutritional program, getting the kids ready for Halloween, etc. Not to mention trying to keep the house straight - always a huge weak point of mine. All this and now I'm getting some kind of cold-type crud. Of course, that couldn't have anything to do with all the gallons of rain we've had for what seems like the entire month of October! I guess God thinks we REALLY need a good washing! I'm rallying, though, and getting a little bit organized again. I try to remind myself that I don't have to be all things to all people all the time. My main job is to take care of my family, and I take that job very seriously.

The Fedex guys delivered Gerry's chemo drugs today, and he will take his first dose of this round tonight. We are hopeful that the side effects will not be very bad. He will take the drug tonight through Friday night, and then have 23 days off the drug. We will update you on how he's faring as soon as possible. I also hope to post some new photos soon - I know you guys want to see some Jamaica pictures!

Our mental game is good. To some degree, I think that I am just too busy to be upset, but I know that God is giving us strength and peace and perserverence. We continue to tweak our daily routine in order to incorporate as much laughter and joy as we can in every day. We try to watch funny movies, read funny books, and just look at life with a sense of whimsy and appreciation. That attitude really helps, especially if you have children! Trying to look at the things they do with a sense of humor saves everybody a lot of aggravation.

Thank you for all your continued prayers and messages of support. Know that you are acting on God's behalf when you uplift us like that. A special thanks goes out to all of our travelling friends who have recently made a point of praying for us in churches and shrines far and wide. From the US to Canada to Spain to Lebanon, God is hearing Gerry's name and I know He is listening and taking care of us. We pray that He continues to use us and our situation to glorify Him, and to serve His higher purpose. That is one prayer I have added to the ones that used to be my standards - that we be worthy of the beautiful sons he gave us, that we will raise them in the way He wants, and that somewhere, someone is loving their future wives and raising them well. Now I also pray that He makes us His instruments, and continues to play us for a very long time!

Love and blessings,
Laura

Saturday, October 26, 2002 at 03:38 PM (CDT)

HI everyone!

Well, Gerry is working like crazy this weekend because it's inventory time at work. He has always enjoyed working hard, and we are so grateful that he is ABLE to work hard all weekend. He has felt very normal lately, which is a huge blessing. He still tires, and benefits from naps, which we understand may continue for quite some time as a result of the radiation. But that's ok, because who wouldn't like a reason to take afternoon naps?!

I've barely seen him this week, due to a combination of his workload and my vigil at my mother's hospital bedside. It's been a long week and I don't know if we've even taken the time to let our encouraging news really sink in. People congratulate us, and I remember, "Oh yeah, the MRI looked encouraging."

We like to say that we are "cautiously optimistic." We are grateful to God that the tumor hasn't grown, but we know we have a long way to go. We are prepared to be patient, and give God the time to work it out His way. We know that medical science can only take us so far, that it will be God who sees us through this challenge.

Meanwhile, I have been spending most of my time at the hospital where my mother is still being treated for an infection resulting from a cat bite. Cat bites are apparently very serious, and the doctors are being extremely cautious. They seem to be determined to get her almost completely well on IV antibiotics before they let her go. My dad has had to be at work all week, so I have been keeping her company and helping her out. It's hard to sit in a hospital bed for a week when you don't feel all that sick.

So, I guess my endurance is being tested! I was able to spend a quiet evening at home with my two older kids last night, (Patrick was spending the night with his best friend), and it was so nice. I've missed them this week, too. Hopefully, Mom will go home in the next couple of days, and that part of my life will be back to "normal."

OF course, that will be just in time for Gerry to begin chemo on Monday night. We don't anticipate that to be terribly disabling, though. Time will tell.

Speaking of time, I'd better wrap this up so I can leave the hospital, go grocery shopping, pick up my kids, and go straighten my house before the babysitter comes tonight. Gerry and I are actually going to some friends' house for dinner. Hopefully, he'll get home from work in time to catch a nap before that!

We will update again as soon as possible!

Love and blessings,
Laura

P.S. My uncle got some great news this week! He had surgery for his melanoma, and they did some lymph node mapping, which is a relatively new thing. The final pathology reports show that there is no more cancer! So he's done. He will have regular scans to keep an eye on him, but no chemo or radiation for him. Thank you to all of those who were praying for him, too.

Thursday, October 24, 2002 at 01:50 PM (CDT)

This will have to be a quick message to everyone. As always thank you for your support and prayers. I am feeling great, my mental state is steadily improving, even if Laura says I am more quiet now.

I am not trying to be quiet, I just don't have that much to say. I am very happy that my treatment is showing progress to date. As the doctor said to us, by the three measures they use to gauge a patient's progress, I am doing extremely well. It must be because of the prayer warriors. I will continue to do everything I can to improve my immune system and keep my attitude screwed on straight. I will give you a better update later. You may be hearing only from Laura through the weekend, because my company is taking the yearly physical inventory starting tomorrow, until we are finished.

Love always in Christ

Gerry Kimes

Tuesday, October 22, 2002 at 01:18 AM (CDT)

Dear friends and family,

Like I promised, I’m back with a more detailed update. It’s been a very long day! Gerry went back to the MRI machine at 8:30 this morning, and was back there for almost an hour. I said the rosary and then read a book, but it was still a very long hour to me. When they gave us the films, we went out into the hall and pulled them out for a peek. The moment of truth…

We didn’t pull out the first set, which we had with us, for comparison. We just looked at today’s films. Even without a side by side comparison, we could tell that the tumor looked smaller! I asked Gerry if he thought it was just wishful thinking, but he said it definitely looked smaller to him, too. As we got in line to register for his labwork, I wept with elation. From the time I had awakened this morning, my internal soundtrack had been going strong. It was a bit of a song that my Aunt Mary Ann wrote, a beautiful song of praise. I had known all morning that God was with us to see us through the day. Thank you for all your prayers this morning – I know that you helped us feel God’s protection.

Next we met with our neuro-oncologist, Dr. Nabors. By the time we were in one of his clinic rooms, we were beginning to make jokes and enjoy our usual banter, and just generally relax. Dr. Nabors put up the previous scans and today’s, side by side, and we discussed them. He showed us which views to compare, and agreed with our untrained assessment that the tumor appears to be smaller. He pointed out that the ventricles, which were previously closed by tumor and/or swelling, are now open. He talked with us extensively about how Gerry has been feeling and how he tolerated the first round of treatment. He said that when they assess brain tumor patients, they look at three things. The first is how much Decadron the patient is taking – which, in Gerry’s case, is none. The second is the MRI – which, in Gerry’s case, looked better. The third is how the patient is doing clinically – which, in Gerry’s case, is very well. The doctor was very impressed that Gerry has continued to be able to work throughout this whole process, and that he has had no headaches, even without the steroids. He is still essentially asymptomatic. So by all accounts and by all criteria, Gerry is officially doing well!

We discussed Gerry’s next treatment steps. He will start chemo again on Monday. He will take a dose that is double the previous dose, for five days in a row, and then nothing for 23 days. During that time, he’ll have labwork done twice to monitor his blood counts. At the end of that 28-day cycle, we’ll see Dr. Nabors again and discuss how well he is tolerating the treatment. If all is going well, as expected, then the dosage will be increased for the next round. At that point, it will be the dosage he will stay on, I think. Again, he’ll have bloodwork done twice during the cycle, and then at the end of that one, he’ll have another day like today – MRI, labwork, neuro-oncologist appointment, radiation oncologist appointment. He will continue to have MRI’s every other chemo cycle.

They are still going to keep a very close eye on him, of course, because we’re a long way from home free. So far, so good, though. We are thrilled.

After that appointment, we went to a nice restaurant for lunch. We had each called a few people, including our mothers, to begin spreading our encouraging news. During lunch, I got a call from my mother. She informed me that she was headed to St. Vincent’s Hospital to be admitted. She was bitten on the hand by a cat yesterday morning, and by mid-morning today, her hand was swollen, she had fever, swollen lymph nodes, and big red streaks going all the way up her arm. Her doctor wisely sent her straight to the hospital to be admitted for IV antibiotics.

So, after Gerry’s last appointment of the day, with his radiation oncologist, we headed over to St. Vincent’s. The radiation oncology appointment was a lot like the earlier appointment – Gerry and I joked around while we waited, and the doctor told us he looks good.

We got to St. Vincent’s ER at about 2:30, and I sent Gerry home at 4 to collect all the boys. I stayed with Mom until 6 p.m., when they were finally getting ready to take her to a room. She could certainly use a few prayers, too!

All in all, it was a very long day.

Gerry said he was not surprised by the news. He had expected it to be just about what it was. He was, of course, very pleased. I guess I was more prepared for bad news than I realized, because I felt a tremendous sense of relief and joy when we saw that the tumor was smaller. We know that this may be a long battle to fully recover, but we are ready to persevere. God has His own plan and His own timetable. We don’t have to understand what the reason for all this is; we just need to do our best to work through it and praise God for all His blessings in the meantime.

Today, we certainly feel blessed.

Much love and blessings to you and your families,

Laura

Monday, October 21, 2002 at 06:32 PM (CDT)

Praise God, the news is good!

Gerry is at Kung Fu right now, and I feel a little strange updating without him, but I knew how many of you wonderful people have been waiting all day to hear something and I didn't want you to wait any more!

So, I'll give you the basics now, and then we may update again later in a little more detail.

Gerry had an MRI this morning which showed that the tumor is somewhat smaller! Also, the "mass effect", or, in English, the swelling and structural deformities that were going on in his brain because of the tumor, seems to be greatly diminished. For those of you who like medical jargon, his right ventricle was formerly swollen shut, and now it is totally open!

The plan is to begin chemo again on Monday. There are more details, but like I said, I'll wait for Gerry. (Don't want to get in trouble!)

I'm sorry it took me so long to get to the website, but another family member was unexpectedly sent to another hospital's emergency room and so I left the last of our appointments to go be there. I've just gotten home.

I can't thank all of you enough for all the praying you've done for us today and over the last 3 months. Keep it up! We're certainly not out of the woods yet by a long shot, but today's news was very encouraging. It was very comforting this morning to know that so many of your thoughts and prayers were with us - especially to me as I sat out in the MRI waiting room for an hour while Gerry went "into the tube."

I have to go figure out dinner now, but we'll log in again as soon as possible.

All things are possible with God!

Love and blessings,
Laura

Friday, October 18, 2002 at 03:58 PM (CDT)

Hi everyone!

I think we're finally back to the real world again. We are trying to get mentally ready for Monday, when Gerry has an MRI. The MRI will be at around 8:15 am, and then we have appointments with his neurooncologist and with the radiation oncologist. It will be a full day of medical rigamarole.

I think we're both getting a little... antsy about the MRI. I'm sure those of you who are close to us are, too. I've noticed Gerry is quiet lately. He says he can't quite put his finger on how he's feeling. He has been quieter in general since all this started. That's an interesting side effect of cancer, although I guess any life altering event can have that kind of repercussion.

Anyway, I can sort out several different feelings I'm having. First of all, he's been feeling so well that it's easy to assume that things are going our way. I really don't want to see any "hard evidence" that things aren't going well for him. That is, of course, our biggest fear, that the scan will show the thing has grown. On the other hand, I am hoping to see good news, and yet trying not to get my hopes up too high. The scan may not show any noticeable change at all, and I'm trying to keep that in mind. That would be a sort of good news in its own way, just not the fabulous news we'd like. And then, of course, there's that small, very human, very vulnerable part of me that so desperately wants to see the Deluxe Package, Flashy Miracle. The kind where the doctors scratch their heads and consult with each other a lot, and finally say, "We don't know what to tell you. It appears to be totally gone. It's a miracle!" The realist in me knows how terribly unlikely (but not impossible!) that is. The praying really hard part of me says that all things are possible with God, and I do believe that, and have quadrupled my prayer efforts.

I was telling a friend last night that my prayers tend to be very selfish. I can't help it - I don't want to lose my husband, my soul mate, my sons' father. I see amazing things happening around us, some of which are directly related to Gerry's cancer. I know that there are more great things happening in people's lives that we don't even realize. For those things, I am very grateful. If Gerry and I are going through this so that some specific changes can take place in our lives and/or in the lives of some of the people around us, and if this is our task because we're strong enough to handle it and get through it with our family intact, then so be it. We accept that, in fact we embrace it. I've told God that. However, I've also told God that I want to come out of this thing with the five of us together! Not that "you'll always be together in spirit" kind of way, but literally together here in Hoover, Alabama!

I get uppity with God sometimes. I tell him, "Don't you dare give me three boys to raise and then take their father away!" I've always fully appreciated the fact that mothers and fathers are different, and parent differently, and that God set us up to have both for good reason. I can't be both to these boys. So I fuss at God sometimes, but I know He can handle it.

So in some ways I'm ready for Monday to be over. At least the anticipation will be gone for now. In some ways, I wish we could just exist in this in between time warp for a while, not knowing, just living our lives. It's rather unfortunate that it's on a Monday, since our last incredibly bad news came on a Monday. If I were a superstitious kind of person, I'd think that means we're in for more bad news. But I'm not a particularly superstitious person, so I choose to believe that this is God's way of redeeming Mondays for us. We'll march in there on Monday and find out that everything is going to be all right. I hope and pray.

Maybe Gerry and I should indulge in another "day of denial" this Sunday like we did last time. That was a nice day. Sort of the calm before the storm. This could be the calm before a different kind of storm. This storm will be all the attention and hoopla that results from Gerry's transformation from "Tumor Boy" to "Miracle Boy!"

Our good friends, Kimberly and Mark Boackle, have already begun planning to return to Jamaica next year on our "victory tour." They were the ones who suggested we check out FDR, the resort, on the internet when they heard we were looking into going to Jamaica. They had run across it one time in searching for a place to go, and thought it looked great. They were a little jealous that we made it down there before they did, but they've committed to joining us next year for a celebratory trip with Miracle Boy. Our sweet friends Kristin and Alan have said count them in, too. I think it would be fabuous to just take over the place with friends and family of Miracle Boy. We'll have shirts printed. "Friend of Miracle Boy" "Cousin of Miracle Boy" "Mother of Miracle Boy" "Grandfather of Miracle Boy's children" "Son of Miracle Boy" Wouldn't that be awesome? Everywhere we'd go, the staff would ask us about our shirts, and we could tell them the amazing miracle that God performed in our lives! Now that has to appeal to God. What so you say, Lord? Can we shout it from the rooftops in Runaway Bay, Jamaica in October 2003? We'll make it happen if you will!

I'm not trying to imply that I'm a big deal-maker with God, because I generally don't do that. I don't think He plays "Let's make a deal." However, I am human, and sometimes things do slip out that way. Mostly, I just ask for strength, and guidance, and I beg for mercy and a miracle. It doesn't HAVE to be the very flashy miracle, although that kind would make it easier for everyone to see that it's God's work. It could be that the tumor just remains the same size for the next 70 years or so, and that would be just fine, too.

At any rate, say an extra fervent prayer for us on Monday, that we are strong enough to handle whatever news comes our way, and that we glorify God in our handling of our situation.

As the plan stands now, sometime shortly after Monday, Gerry will start chemo again. It will be the same drug, but at roughly triple the dose. He will still take it orally, but it won't be every day. It will be five days in a row, and then 23 days off. Of course, if we get our flashy miracle, maybe he won't have to do that at all, but for now, that's the plan.

We will update the site as soon as we are able on Monday. I know that everyone will be anxious to know something.

Thank you again for your continued love, support, and prayers.

Much love and abundant blessings to you all,

Laura

Monday, October 14, 2002 at 11:26 PM (CDT)

Dear friends and family,

Well, we are home, and already have our pictures developed. We took fourteen rolls all together, although some of those were the kids' disposable cameras. We got some really nice shots. We also got Gerry's fishing pictures, so we'll try to pick a few and post them. We are only allowed to put three up at a time, so we'll have to be selective.

Our big trip to New Jersey, New York, and Jamaica was no more and no less than exactly what we needed it to be. The first part was wonderful because we got to see dear friends and family we never see often enough. Our two-year-old goddaughter, Victoria, is gorgeous and bright and lots of fun. She hasn't ever spent much time around our boys, but they all got along famously.

We also visited with my Uncle Mike, who has recently discovered he is facing melanoma. He and Chris treated us to a wonderful dinner at their house. We spent a little time in NYC with Auntie Margot, one of our dearest friends from high school. She's been living in NYC for four years, but is moving back here this month. We will be very glad to have her back in town.

I'm so happy that we included those visits in our trip. Our friends and family have always been extremely important to us, but never more so than now. Staying connected to the people we love helps us remember how important it is to enjoy every minute of every day.

The resort we chose in Jamaica was perfectly suited to our needs. Gerry and I badly needed a chance to lie around and relax, and do some more reading from our huge stack of research material. The boys, on the other hand, enjoyed being free to play and explore and be as active as they wanted to be. That's where the nanny, Sherita, was absolutely indispensable. I highly recommend Franklyn D. Resort in Runaway Bay, Jamaica, if you are traveling with children. They were constantly entertained, but not scheduled. They mostly played in the pool and played tennis, but they also played on the beach, fished, (Patrick was usually the one who caught all the fish), played on the waterslide, played air hockey, and enjoyed shows and dancing after dinner.

I had two very relaxing massages in a beautiful spot on the end of a pier. For those of you who enjoy massages, imagine having one in a private hut in the Caribbean Sea, with the sound of the waves against the rocks and cool island breezes to aid in your relaxation. I was very close to falling asleep both times.

Gerry and I also had time to think about and discuss the next steps in his treatment. Since those first days after diagnosis when everything was so intense, we had settled into the treatment routine, and then into the "break from treatment" routine. We hadn't really taken the time to think about or talk about how we felt about where we'd been on this journey and where we're going next. Also, since then, we've both been doing a lot of reading, and hadn't had a lot of time to compare notes. Usually, when I finish a book, I give Gerry a synopsis of it, or I tell him it wasn't really worth mention, or I tell him he needs to read it himself. So, some reflection time in the lush tropical setting of Jamaica was a much-needed perk.

Both of us were feeling worn down mentally when we got there. I don't know if it was just the slow, seeping, daily knowledge that this is really happening to us, or maybe the impending MRI next week, or just plain fatigue. Something had begun to sap our energy and rob us of our joy. However, with our rest, relaxation, reflection time, and the amazing beauty of Jamaica, we both feel much better now. There's something wonderfully therapeutic about sipping a frozen drink while lying in a hammock in the shade by the crystal clear turquoise water of the Caribbean. It's easier to see God when surrounded by all that natural beauty.

When we got home, our house and carpets had been freshly cleaned in our absence, both thanks to Virginia, a wonderful angel in our lives. She even brought us some wonderful salmon and sweet potatoes for dinner. We have begun a very strict dietary plan in an effort to get as healthy as possible, and to strengthen Gerry's immune system. I'm trying to learn much more about nutrition and about how to shop and where to shop. We are trying to eat whole, organically grown, unprocessed foods as much as possible, within the guidelines of some restrictions that Gerry is under to keep swelling to a minimum. It's a challenge, but one of many that I will happily face in order to help him. I'm learning that there are all kinds of great things to be found in my local health food store, some of which my children will actually eat as well!

Gerry also continues to go to his Tai Chi classes, his network chiropractor, and his DOM (Doctor of Oriental Medicine), who is helping us with nutrition as well as treating him with acupuncture. We are learning about meditation and visualization as methods to deal with stress, and to try to help his immune system from the inside. It seems to be widely accepted that our human knowledge of exactly how our minds work and all that they are capable of accomplishing is incomplete at best. We are actively working to discover any reasonable way that Gerry can work toward helping himself, while weeding out the radical and unsupported weird stuff that can be found in abundance out there. Anyone who makes wild claims that they guarantee they can cure you but have been kept down by some medical establishment conspiracy is someone to be viewed with skepticism. Believe it or not, those guys are plentiful.

I have a very dear friend who also has a loved one with a brain tumor. I recently asked her if the situation ever stops "hitting" or sinking in. (She has been dealing with this for a year more than I have, almost to the day.) She told me no, not really. I asked her that at a time when our own situation was really hitting me hard. I have talked before about my internal soundtrack and the songs that play there, and mentioned that I can tell how I'm really feeling by what song is playing. I have come to realize that I also have another gauge that has been with me since that first night in the hospital.

That fateful Thursday, when we had gone to the neurologist, gotten the MRI, and subsequently had the world completely knocked out from under us, Gerry was admitted to the hospital. He was to have a brain biopsy the next morning, and we were both very afraid and overwhelmed. Gerry had the presence of mind to ask for a lawyer. We did not have a formal will, nor a living will. His uncle called an attorney friend who very kindly came right up to the hospital that night. As I stood in a hospital room full of family and friends, with my children bouncing around the room, signing a stack of legal documents - will, living will, power of attorney - that were preparations for the possibility of Gerry's death or incapacitation, I suddenly felt very old. I wasn't supposed to be signing up to make "pull the plug" decisions about my husband. I still had a child who couldn't button his own pants! I shouldn't be facing the death of my husband until I at least have grandkids. I told Gerry that night that I felt about 85 years old.

So my other gauge of how my "mental game" is doing is how old I feel at any given moment. Some days I'm 85. On good days, I'm only about 45. I don't know if I'll ever feel 32 again. Thirty-two-year-olds don't ordinarily have to deal with this kind of thing. Of course, Gerry and I have never been ordinary, I guess. Today, I feel good. I'm in my forties.

We came home to a bunch of very sweet cards, emails, and messages on this sight. Plus that whole clean house/carpet thing. Those things are such an answer to our continued prayers for help and strength to face our situation. Thank you, again, to all of you who are praying for us and thinking of us. You help to keep us going.

Well, I guess I've rambled enough for now. I hope that each of you has the opportunity at some point to take the kind of relaxed family time that we just had. Even if it's not particularly far away or exotic, find somewhere to get away and be together. Try your best not to put it off. You never know what tomorrow may bring.

Much love and blessings,
Laura

Monday, October 14, 2002 at 01:33 PM (CDT)

Hi everyone!

Well, we're home, back in the real world again. Our trip home was much less eventful than the trip to Jamaica, thank goodness. We did not stay an extra day, although we appreciate all the wonderful words of encouragement to do so. We decided it was a lot of hassle to go through for just one more day, and we'd been gone 10 days already. It is actually good to be home and sleep in our own beds, eat familiar foods, and drive the relatively sane streets of Birmingham, even if I did come home to a rather odiferous science project (formerly leftovers) that was inadvertantly left lying in wait for me in the back of my van! Yuck!

We also came home to a beautifully clean house, thanks to Virginia, and even freshly cleaned carpets, thanks, I suspect, to Vivian. What angels we have in our lives.

I will write more later today, and share stories and insights from our trip. Right now, though, I have to go get Patrick from school, 14 rolls of film from Sam's, and get the big boys from their school. (They were excited to go this morning!)

Love and blessings to all of you,

Laura

Tuesday, October 08, 2002 at 03:22 PM (CDT)

Greetins from Jamaica Mon.

As usual with us, there is a story.

We had a great time in NJ/NY with our friends and family. We went to see the USS Intrepid, an Essex Class WWII aircraft carrier (OK, dad pushed everyone into it). The boys loved it, especially the SR-71 Blackbird spy plane that was on display. The next day we had brunch with Auntie Margot at the Barking Dog Restaurant. We then rode the subway to Central Park; rode a carriage around some of Central Park; then played for a while on a playground with a large boulder, which the kids climbed for more than an hour.

Here comes the story. Sunday morning we got up at 4 am, a glorious hour, to haul everyone to the airport for a 7:15 am flight out of Newark. The plane took off, gained altitude, then lost altitude, then gained altitude, then lost it again. At that point, the captain turned the plane around and informed us that the landing gear would not retract. We made an emergency landing at Newark, complete with fire trucks on the runway. Patrick and Jacob slept through the entire incident; Zak maintained his composure nicely.

After sitting on the plane for two and a half hours at the gate, we were told that the problem could not be quickly fixed. So we had to de-plane, retrieve our luggage, and take a Mr. Toad’s Wild Bus Ride through NYC to JFK airport. We were booked on a flight that left at 2:30pm, which stopped at Kingston, before flying on to Montego Bay. We arrived at Montego Bay around 6:30pm, cleared customs, and found our bus to the resort. Our driver, Carlton, made our 1-1/2 hour bus ride interesting and entertaining by pointing out local sights, teaching us some Patois, telling us facts about the island, singing Harry Belafonte songs, and teaching us his favorite beer drinking song. Zak especially liked the beer song.

We arrived at the resort at 8:30pm, grabbed dinner and crashed. The next morning, we met our nanny, Sherita, who the kids love. She gave us a tour of the property and showed us all the many things there are for kids to do. There are a couple of things for adults, but who really cares about that? Our plan was always to lie around the pool, interrupted by lying around the beach, accompanied by frozen drinks and frequent naps. We are accomplishing that goal and the kids are having a blast.

So far they have really enjoyed playing tennis with the “pro” Wayne, and getting drinks from the bar. They also love the pool, the waterslide, fishing at 4:30pm, and foozball. Laura had a great massage in a hut on the pier.

Sherita is awesome. She keeps up with the boys, and all their stuff, and cleans our suite. The suite is roomy and comfortable, even though only the bedrooms are airconditioned. If you want to see where we are, you can look up FDR or Franklyn D. Resort on the internet. I think the web address is fdrholidays.com, but I'm not positive.
We haven’t figured out how to call home yet using a prepaid calling card we have, but we are alive and well (and hot). This time it is lizards instead of giant crabs that we run into around every corner.

We are still debating when we are coming home. I guess it will still be next Sunday, although there is a concerted campaign to stay one more day since Air Jamaica cost us a day at the resort.

Love to everyone,

Gerry, Laura, Zak, Jacob, and Patrick (Big Mon).

Monday, September 30, 2002 at 08:42 PM (CDT)

September 30, 2002

My research assistant reminded me tonight that it has been a while since I wrote a journal entry, so here goes.

First a retraction (clarification), I had previously written about the lack of a creative outlet, when I was correctly reminded that my Kung-Fu/Tai-Chi work is intensely personal and creative. I was really speaking of a more public creative outlet. So thanks to Sharon who keeps me straight.

The fishing trip this weekend was outstanding. My father and I were able to go to Destin with friends from work. This trip had been planned and booked back in late June, before I was diagnosed. I was lucky that it was planned for the time I had to rest after radiation. No one on the boat got sick, as we had an incredibly beautiful and calm day at sea. The captain was excellent and put us on fish consistently. As a group, we caught our limit of Red Snapper, as well as two good sized Grouper. Everyone caught fish, and Dad got one of the largest Snapper of the day. However, it was not the largest fish landed on the boat. Robert (Uncle Fuzzy to his friends, picture Santa Claus as a plumber), landed a Jack Cravelle, which we all estimated to be 40lbs.

I will post some pictures when they are developed.

Laura went to Camp McDowell to crop with Creative Memories friends all weekend. She completed 60 pages, and had a very good time. Zak went to Anne & Jerry Renno’s house (Dennie & PopPop) for the weekend and enjoyed himself. Jacob went to his friend Jack Reed’s house for the weekend and enjoyed himself. Patrick stayed with my mother (Sittie) all weekend and enjoyed himself. A little bit of separated time seems to have done us all a world of good and gotten us all ready for our big trip this week.

We leave Thursday morning for NJ to stay with some of our best friends in the world, Boyd & Janice & Victoria Peters. We will visit Auntie Margot Miller in NYC as well.
We are trying to schedule time to see Laura’s Uncle Mike who was recently diagnosed with melanoma.

We leave Sunday from NJ to fly to Jamaica where we will be vacationing as family for a week. We will be back in Bham on the 13th.

I continue to improve in strength and health. I am feeling great, almost completely back to normal. Although I continue to look like Uncle Fester’s Redneck Cousin, I will not apologize for that.

Thank you all for supporting us.

Love always,

Gerry

Friday, September 27, 2002 at 11:02 AM (CDT)

Hi everyone!

Just a quick note to tell you that all is well. Gerry is completely off his steroids, and has been for almost two weeks, and has had NO headaches! Since headaches were the only symptom he had in the first place, and now there are no drugs in his body to prevent them, we like to think that means that he is winning!

He is off to Destin this weekend for a deep sea fishing trip he had planned with some buddies "before." (Now everything is divided into "before" and "after" we found out about his tumor.) Anyway, thanks to God, the weather has cleared down there and the trip is on!

Meanwhile, I'm heading off to a ladies' retreat and scrapbooking weekend, and the kids are all farmed out to separate households. Five of us going in five different directions! We needed it, though. It's a nice break for the boys to be away from each other all weekend after being trapped together indoors during all these days and days of rain. Gerry and I are looking forward to our own time to pursue our interests, too.

Then, next weekend, we're off on our big trip! We are excited! We just pray that the weather will cooperate for that, too.

Gotta run! Know that we are well, and grateful for you and the blessings you bring us. We'll update again when we get back!

Love and blessings,
Laura

Monday, September 23, 2002 at 05:11 PM (CDT)

Dear family and friends,

Sorry it's been so long since our last update! I liked Gerry's last one so much, I wanted to leave it there a while. Just kidding! That's only part of it. The other part is just that we've been busy.

Lately I've been listening to some music by a man named David Bailey. He had a brain tumor also, and was told he had about 6 months to live. Well, he chose not to accept that estimate, made some changes in his life, and pursued treatment aggressively. That was more than 6 years ago and he's still going strong! So anyway, one of the biggest changes he made in his life was to quit his big corporate stressful job and go back to his first love, music. Now he's a full time musician. Where is all of this going? No, Gerry isn't quitting his job. He enjoys his job and it isn't terribly stressful for him. What I'm saying is that David Bailey's music has become part of my internal soundtrack. He has some songs that deal directly with his having been told he was going to die, and some that are more indirect, dealing with issues of time and perspective on life, and some that are just good songs about other subjects altogether.

A couple of the lines I especially like from two of his more direct songs seem to find their way to my mind a good bit. In one song, called "Live Forever," David sings: (my apologies to David if I misquote a word or two)

The doctor said I didn't have much time left.
A year or two, at the very best.
He said to kiss my wife and get my things in order,
Then get ready for my eternal rest.
Well, I smiled as I listened to his sentence.
All his smarts, there was one thing he didn't know.
While he was busy counting my remaining minutes
I was busy watching my grandchildren grow.

In another verse, the nurse has told him maybe one in 500 can survive, then she turns and tells his family that a world of drugs won't keep him alive. He sings:

Well I clenched my teeth as I listened to her verdict.
All her years had only taught her how to run.
She forgot the truth behind her numbers…
If there's one chance in 500, someone's gotta be the one!

In another song called, "Hey!" David sings:

Well they told me I only had a year to live.
And I said, maybe so, but maybe not.
Could be that I only have tomorrow
And who are you to tell me what I've got.

He said, I'm a man who is wise and learned
Every day, people pay for my advice
I said, yes, but there's something you've forgotten
I'm stronger than your laboratory mice!

He said, yes, but I can't deny the numbers
I've got a chart that spells it out in black and white
That may be true, but I see the world in color
And that puts it all in a different light!

I love those lines. The one about seeing the world in color really speaks to me. I love that attitude of, "I am going to live, and do it out loud and in color, no matter what your predictions or numbers say!" Exactly!
So, we are watching the Gulf as the time for our trip approaches. Keep your fingers crossed that we actually get to go. With all the hurricanes and storms brewing, it's not looking good right now. Meanwhile, we are working on building up Gerry's health and immune system as much as possible, both to fight the cancer and to prepare for the next round of treatment. I am reading hundreds and hundreds of pages of all kinds of information about fighting cancer. I try to filter out the really wild stuff and distill out the things that apply to us and our situation. Silly me, I guess I thought I was finished doing this kind of intense research work when I graduated from college! I'm not complaining, because I believe in the "use it or lose it" philosophy. I'm using my brain and all those critical thinking skills that we try so hard to cultivate in our kids.

Anyway, that's what's going on with us right now. We're in sort of a holding pattern with regard to treatment, but we're using the time wisely, I think. Gerry continues to feel a little better each day, and we treasure every second together.

Hold your loved ones and tell them what they mean to you!

Love always,
Laura

Wednesday, September 18, 2002 at 10:03 PM (CDT)

September 18, 2002

Everything is still going very well. I feel great, and the doctors cleared me to drive again yesterday. It is great to have that freedom back again. I am still slowly (in my type A mind) recovering from radiation/chemo. I have to keep realizing that I only stopped the treatments 6 days ago. I am still tired, but not as much so. I still have a bad taste in my mouth, but not as much so. Nothing tastes right to me yet, and I still have a very small amount of nasal congestion hanging around.

Thanks to everyone who has been supporting us with food. You are all too kind. We have to share meals with other people to make sure that the food does not go to waste. We enjoy sharing meals because it usually means good company during the meals.

Bible study of the Day: Psalm 34.

As I mentioned in my last update, my next MRI and doctor appointment is on October 21st. As I think I mentioned, and Laura has mentioned, we are not expecting the tumor to be gone. As long as I don’t have ill effects, which by definition means the tumor is not growing, I will be happy to continue with my plan to live to 100. Now of course we will be happy to accept the flashy kind of miracle, but we both look at each new day as a miracle that I can continue on “normally.”

Well, Laura usually tells me about her down days after she is over them. She is a wonderful, loving wife and a constant reminder of how blessed I am. Even after being married for 10 years, and being together for 17 years, it is unusual for me to use the word wife. To me, she is just Laura, the other half of me. Even now, or especially now, that is even clearer to me. We are both still going through reams of information and I know that if she reads something important, I can trust that I don’t need to see it. She provides all I need. I can’t trust anyone the way I trust her. I am going to let her see this now, I will just let her read it on the web site. It’s a little game we have started playing. However, we did not define the rules, so I hope I did not just break one. If I did, it would not be the first time.


Yours in Christ,

Gerry

Tuesday, September 17, 2002 at 07:29 AM (CDT)

Hi everyone!

I was talking to some friends last night at Bunco and the subject of age arose. We were all sharing how we used to think 30 or 40 sounded old, but the closer we all get to 40 or 50, the younger those ages seem. It pointed out to me something I’ve noticed about myself lately. I think of age totally differently now than I did “before.” (Now everything is marked in terms of “before” and “after” diagnosis.)

I used to see age the way most young people do, as something inevitable that happens to us and somehow robs us slowly of our vitality, looks, strength, health, youth.

Now I see age as a privilege. I look at people in their 60’s and 70’s and even beyond, and I think, “How privileged and lucky they are to have made it that far.” Especially if I see an older couple together, I am struck by the profound gift they’ve been given to have lived so long and still have each other, and I always pray fervently, on the spot, for that same gift. My biggest dream right now is to grow old with my husband.

Tonight’s soundtrack is a religious song, a throwback from my days on the SEARCH team. (That was a team of high school kids who put on religious retreats aimed at other high school kids.) Its refrain is:

Turn an ear to me, O God.
Answer when I call.

Another line is: Give ear to my pleading, and hear me, O God of my heart!

That’s me these last few days – pleading with God. Pleading for healing for Gerry, for a long life together, for Him to have more work for us to do together – years and years of work, no matter what that work is, as long as we’re together.

So, as you can probably tell, it’s been a rough few days for me. My “mental game,” as Gerry and I call it, hasn’t been where it needs to be. I get really scared sometimes, thinking of the possibility of trying to make a life without Gerry. I was 15 when we got together. I don’t even know how to begin to make a life without him, and I sincerely don’t want to learn. I am not me without him. I don’t know how to breathe without him. We are two halves of the same whole.

I know that is borrowing from the future, and not staying in my current 24 hours. It’s also, to some degree, giving up the joy of today for fear and dread of tomorrow. I’m trying hard to get my head back in gear and stop doing those things. It’s an uphill climb some days, and I get angry with myself for letting myself get down in the first place, because I know how hard it is to claw my way back up. I also know how vitally important it is that I do claw my way back up.

Some have said to me, “You have to have down days sometimes. You’re human.”

Let me tell you, some days, it sucks to be human.

I like me better when I’m strong.

So how do I get strong again, you ask? I take one day, one hour, one minute, one second at a time, and I go through the motions, praying for strength and grace and guidance. I “fake it ‘till I make it.” I put one foot in front of the other and do the daily things I have to do, and try like crazy to find all the positives I can, anywhere I can.

When Gerry couldn’t taste very well, I rejoiced that his daily kelp juice wouldn’t be so yucky now. When he started to talk about the kelp tasting nasty, I rejoiced that his taste is returning.

I try not to search too hard for the “why” in all this. That can drive you crazy. Sometimes, though, a possible “why” will show itself, so I try to find encouragement in that. For example, here’s another one of my infamous theories.
Whenever I used to hear of someone else’s troubles, and of how that person was so strong, and of how God never gives you more than you can handle, I always used to rejoice that God thought I was so weak that He hadn’t ever sent me any major troubles. (And yet, I always knew my day was coming…) So anyway, our day came and now we have this burden of our own. We seem to be handling it reasonably well. Recently, a friend came to me and was explaining some of the positive effects our situation has had on her life and that of her husband, in making them re-evaluate priorities, listen to the warning signs of their bodies, etc. She was not the first person to tell me that our situation is affecting others in a positive way. So my newest theory is that maybe God gave this particular challenge to Gerry and me precisely because we ARE strong enough to handle it. I told Gerry that if we are meant to go through this so that others can learn to love God and love each other a little more, then so be it. God must know that we are strong enough to bear it, and bear it we will. We just hope and pray that He isn’t done using us for this or some other purpose for a very, very long time!

As usual, coming to this site and writing these thoughts has made it all more manageable for me and I think I’m finished with my little pity party now. I know that some of you have told me that it’s hard for you to read these entries and that sometimes you cry. I’m sorry about that. I really am. Unfortunately, there is nothing about this situation that is easy, except maybe loving my husband and children and family and friends more than ever. If it’s too hard to read this, I understand. But I have to be open when I write. It’s who I am and I think it’s how God uses my words to touch people. I don’t try to make people upset – it’s just that life isn’t always easy. This is the hard part, the “worse” part of “for better or worse.” I get through, day by day, because, as my mother always says, “You do what you have to do.”

Peace, love, and abundant blessings to you and your families,

Laura

Saturday, September 14, 2002 at 01:34 PM (CDT)

September 14, 2002

Radiation and Chemo treatments ended on Thursday the 12th. I am very happy to be done with that course of treatment. My next MRI and doctor visit is on October 21, 2002. After which I am sure that we will schedule the next rounds of Chemo therapy. I would love the flashy cure, but I am in this for the long haul, even if the cure is slow and steady.

In between, we are taking our family to NJ/NY to visit friends, and then for a week in Jamaica.

I am still trying to sleep as much as possible, to recover from radiation. I still feel fine, except for tired, and other minor problems.

I had a great Tai-Chi class this morning, followed by a birthday party at Chuck E Cheese, which did not completely blow all of the Tai-Chi benefits. One of the interesting things I have come to realize. I don’t really have a creative hobby/outlet. I enjoy my work, and other hobbies, but I don’t count any of them as really creative in a personal sense.

I think everyone should definitely have some creative outlet. If you are like me, try to find that outlet and nourish it.

I can’t say often enough how uplifting it is to have everyone keeping our family in your prayers. We also pray everyday for everyone who is supporting us. Thank you all.

I have decided to live to at least 100 years old, just to prove that I can.

Yours in Christ,

Gerry

Tuesday, September 10, 2002 at 09:40 PM (CDT)

September 10, 2002

I am really looking forward to ending my radiation treatments. The last treatment is on September 12th, this Thursday. I apologize for not putting more entries up on the web site. I have been feeling more run-down as the radiation has progressed. I am still feeling well in general, and have no real adverse effects. The fatigue is normal, and just requires more sleep than I am willing to allow. It is difficult to finally face the need to slow down enough to acknowledge this intruder in my body.

Speaking to several people who have been through similar treatments, I have been assured that once the radiation stops, my energy levels should quickly return to normal.

I would like to share this e-mail story with everyone. It is one of those tear jerkers, but I find it is better to go ahead and cry about it, for no real reason.

She had been shopping with her Mom in Wal-Mart. She must have been 6
years old, this beautiful red haired, freckle faced image of innocence.
It was pouring outside. The kind of rain that gushes over the top of rain gutters, so much in a hurry to hit the earth it has no time to flow down the spout.

We all stood there under the awning and just inside the door of the
Wal-Mart. We waited, some patiently, others irritated because nature
messed up their hurried day. I am always mesmerized by rainfall. I
get lost in the sound and sight of the heavens washing away the dirt and dust of the world.

Memories of running, splashing so carefree as a child come pouring
in, as a welcome reprieve from the worries of my day. Her voice was so
sweet as it broke the hypnotic trance we were all caught in.

"Mom, let's run through the rain," she said. "What?" Mom asked.
"Let's run through the rain!" She repeated. "No, honey. We'll wait until it slows down a bit," Mom replied. This young child waited about another minute and repeated: "Mom, let's run through the rain." "We'll get soaked if we do," Mom said. "No, we won't, Mom. That's not what you said this morning," the young girl said as she tugged at her Mom's arm. "This morning? When did I say we could run through the rain and
not get wet?" "Don't you remember? When you were talking to Daddy
about his cancer, you said, 'If God can get us through this, he can get us through anything!'"

The entire crowd stopped dead silent. I swear you couldn't hear anything but the rain. We all stood silently. No one came or left in the next few minutes.

Mom paused and thought for a moment about what she would say. Now some
would laugh it off and scold her for being silly. Some might even
ignore what was said. But this was a moment of affirmation in a young
child's life. A time when innocent trust can be nurtured so that it will bloom into faith. "Honey, you are absolutely right. Let's run through the rain. If God let's us get wet, well maybe we just needed washing," Mom said. Then off they ran. We all stood watching, smiling and laughing as they darted past the cars and yes, through the puddles. They held their shopping bags over their heads just in case. They got soaked. But they were followed by a few who screamed and laughed like children all the way to their cars. And yes, I did. I ran. I got wet. I needed washing.

Circumstances or people can take away your material possessions,
they can take away your money, and they can take away your health.
But no one can ever take away your opportunities to make memories
every day! To everything there is a season and a time to every
purpose under heaven.

A friend sent this to me to remind me of life, hope you have enjoyed it. I HOPE YOU STILL TAKE THE TIME TO RUN THROUGH THE RAIN.
Keep in touch with your friends; you never know when you'll need them.

-Anonymous


Sorry to subject you all to that. Just cry and get it over with. You will feel better; I know I did.

We have booked a family vacation for early October that will take us all to NJ and NY for a few days to visit old friends, then to Jamaica for a week with the kids. We are looking forward to getting away for a big trip for our family. Our kids are already pumped up over the idea of going to Jamaica. One of the biggest draws is getting off the airplane, walking down the stairs, and crossing the tarmac to the airport.

I am going to bed now. I hope that everyone continues to connect to what is really important in your life.

Love always,

Gerry Kimes

Sunday, September 08, 2002 at 09:20 PM (CDT)

Hi friends and family!

Please be sure to visit our photos section and see the latest photo of Gerry with his new look!

We have had a very nice weekend and an especially nice day today.

On Friday, we hung out with my (Laura's) parents as usual. I love all the little routines and rituals we have as a family. I've been told we have a lot of them, and for us, that's just right. I remember well some of the rituals from my childhood, and it is one of my fondest wishes that my children grow up with those kinds of warm memories, too. For example, every afternoon when my dad would come home from work, I would wait by the window to see his car. As soon as he turned off the engine, I would explode out the front door, yelling, "Daddy, Daddy, Daddy, Daddy!" at the top of my lungs. Dad would have to ditch his briefcase and sprint from the car because as soon as I reached the top step of our front porch, I would launch myself high into the air, secure in the knowledge that he would always catch me in his big Daddy hug. Only as an adult did I find out that his heart was frequently in his throat as he ran to catch me! He never once missed, though. Then my mom and I would follow him to their room and lie on the bed and talk to him about our day as he changed from his suit into his "at home clothes."

Gerry has very fond memories of sitting on the counter at his grandmother's house, eating kibbee straight from the grinder. (Kibbee is a Lebanese dish made with raw ground sirloin. It can also be baked or fried, but lots of people love it raw.) His family went to his grandmother's house for lunch every Sunday.

We have rituals with our boys, too. Every Wednesday night is Family Night at Gerry's parents' house. Usually there is a crowd. At a minimum it's us, his parents, his Aunt Gayle and whichever of her kids aren't studying, playing sports, or off at school, and Gerry's grandparents. During the summers, when Gerry's brother Paul is home from Rome, he is always there, too. He likes to cook and is great in the kitchen, so he usually gives his mother a break when he's here and cooks for us. One of our favorite dishes is "Pollo con higos," or chicken with figs. It's a Spanish dish. Due to Gerry's limited memory of his high school Spanish courses, though, the dish has been renamed in English - "chicken and children." It's a running family joke. "Hijos" means children in Spanish, so there was a slight mixup when Paul first introduced the dish. Now every summer we look at the fig trees out front and ask, "Are the children ready yet?"

Anyway, another of our rituals is Friday nights with my parents. We have dinner and hang out. My dad usually chases the kids around the house and wrestles with them, and later my mom reads them books before bed or tells them stories from my childhood. Lately, we have gotten into watching "Monk" together. It's a detective show and we all love it. The boys all look forward to our Friday nights.

We have a first day of school ritual. I pick the boys up, give them new books I've bought them, and take them for a milkshake at O'Carr's so they can enjoy and tell me all about their day. This year, we wound up at TCBY because O'Carr's wasn't open, but it still worked!

I think rituals are a secure, familiar, reassuring thing. I'm proud that we haven't missed many of them since this started. We only missed the one Friday night that Gerry was in the hospital and one when we were out of town in Atlanta, but we made up for that one the following Tuesday! So Friday was our normal Friday night thing, except that Patrick slept over at Frankie LaRussa's house. Frankie is Patrick's best friend, and has been for a couple of years now, which is a lot to a four and a half year old! I was proud of my baby. He had a blast and wasn't homesick at all! The big boys went home and spent the night with my parents on Friday night, and went to Oak Mountain with my dad the next morning to go kayaking.

Saturday, I had an all day crop. (I'm a Creative Memories Consultant - I teach people how to preserve their photos and stories in photo-safe, heirloom quality photo albums. A "crop" is a workshop where I provide time, space, tools, and help for my clients as they work on their albums.) This one was from 9 a.m. until 9 p.m. and was arranged by a sweet consultant friend of mine, Kristyn Bara, and by some of my regular croppers. It was wonderful. I got to crop right along with them this time, and they all brought food so we had the most fabulous potluck meals. A great many of my clients have become my good friends. Spending time with them at crops is one of my very favorite parts of my business.

Today, all 5 of us got up at what we consider to be the crack of dawn (at least 3 of us are definitely NOT morning people). We left at about 6:45 a.m. with Gerry's dad to go fishing. Actually, we went catching. I've been fishing before, but neither I nor the boys had ever been catching! Giddie (Gerry's dad - it means Grandfather in Arabic) has a friend who belongs to a club that owns some stocked ponds. So off we went to the middle of nowhere (that's about a 75 minute drive from here) this morning to catch some fish. We all had a great time. It was a beautiful day, and really not too hot. Being out in the middle of nowhere was very peaceful and quiet. No phones rang, there was only the occasional car going by out on the road, so the only sounds were the happy and excited noises of my children catching bream after bream in the pond. Most of them weren't "keepers," but that didn't bother the boys at all. It was very process oriented. It was such a nice day - nobody got hooked, which is a miracle in itself fishing with three small children on one small dock, nobody freaked out about the crickets we used for bait, nor about the wiggly fish which sometimes got loose on the dock, nor even about the water moccasin which lurked around our fish basket as it hung in the water holding our few "keepers". The boys were all fairly patient about waiting to have their hooks baited, and everyone generally cooperated beautifully. I tried to bait a hook; I really did. I could grab the cricket just fine. That didn't bother me. But when it came time to put a hook through it, I just couldn't do it. I guess I have a little Buddhist in me somewhere. (It doesn't extend to mosquitoes, fire ants, bees, or roaches, though!)

Giddie's friends used mealy worms for their bait. The boys kept getting confused and calling them measly worms!
We came home exhausted, had breakfast for dinner (Thanks, Carlo!), and have gotten the kids off to bed. We all fell asleep in the car on the way home, except for Giddie, who drove! When we stopped for lunch on our way back, Jacob had already fallen asleep in the car. As the car slowed, he opened his eyes, but I quickly realized he wasn't yet awake. He was still fishing! He said, "Watch this," and mimed pulling up a fish and trying to grab the line as it wiggled. Then he set his "fish" off to the side of him and looked at it with pride. It was hilarious!

It's been quiet here tonight, and that's bliss. I guess I hadn't realized how little of that we've had lately. So, after a beautiful day and quiet family evening, we're off to bed. The boys prayers tonight were especially sweet as they prayed for God to "help Daddy" and "make him not get sicker" and "make the next MRI show that the cancer is DEAD."

AMEN!

Love and blessings,
Laura

Thursday, September 05, 2002 at 04:44 PM (CDT)

Greetings, dear family and friends!

We so enjoy reading your guestbook entries. Thank you to everyone who has written to us with a note of encouragement or a sweet quote or an inside joke! Thank you also to those of you who check the website frequently but don't send a message. I know that there are many of you who are praying for us and thinking of us but, for your own reasons, don't sign the guestbook. We love you and appreciate all of you!

Well, it's been another few beautiful days since we last spoke here, and we are still doing well. Gerry has only 5 more radiation treatments to go! He is still napping in the afternoons, but he also still working in the mornings. What a blessing to be able to work. That's like a line from a movie I like, "Return to Me." Carroll O'Connor's character is sweeping up after a long day at his restaurant, and his granddaughter, played by Minnie Driver, asks if he needs help. He replies, "No, thank you. I'm blessed with work." Gerry's being able to work is so good for us in so many ways.

His going to work is normal, and we need as much of that as we can get. Going to work means he has somewhere to go and something to do every day. He wouldn't want to just sit home and wait to be sick. His going to work gives me some sense of normalcy and allows me some time to do my normal things - errands, housework, being with the kids, etc. Going to work makes Gerry feel productive, and he is, and it also forces him to streamline and be very efficient. We all need little lessons in how to ignore the unimportant stuff and get more of the important stuff done.

There is an organization to which I am fortunate to belong, called the Madonna and Child Guild. It is a group of moms who get together and support each other in trying to be the best Christian (most of us are Catholic) women, wives, and mothers we can be. We have speakers come and talk to us about different relevant topics, and we also do charity work, especially work that has to do with mothers and children.

At one of our meetings one day a few years ago, we had a speaker whose name I don't remember right now, unfortunately. Anyway, she was speaking to us about the tough times as a mom, especially when the children are young and very demanding. She read a prayer about those times, and although I don't remember the exact words anymore, I remember the point, and I still think of it often. The point was, we have to change our perspective on those tough times. We need to be thankful when the baby wakes and cries in the night - thankful that we are physically able to go to that baby to offer comfort, thankful that we can pick up and nurse that child, fill his needs, and return him to his safe, warm bed, thankful that the baby is healthy enough to cry out in the night for comfort. There are people all over the world who are not physically able to go to a crying child in the night, those whose children are lost, those whose children are too weak from starvation to even cry. There are mothers who have no food, no milk, no comfort to offer their babies in the night.

For those of us with clingy toddlers and early school-aged children, the perspective can also change. My four year old may want to climb all over me with sticky hands and a runny nose. My eight year old may want to sit in my lap to watch a movie, even though he hangs off of my lap in every direction and my legs lose all circulation. My six year old may wind up in my bed some nights because he's had a scary dream, and then proceed to do his best imitation of a tornado for the rest of the night, leaving us to awaken bruised and groggy the next day. But the thing is, before I know it, those three boys will be mortified that they even have parents. They'll want me to drop them off three blocks from their destinations so their friends don't see me. They'll have to be asleep for me to catch a cuddle, I know those times are coming, and that they're normal, too. So I know I have to cherish these sticky, sweet, clumsy, clingy, cuddly, golden, growing moments while they're here, because they will never come back.

Our lives have taken a strange and unexpected turn lately, but there is perspective to be gained at this bend in the road, too. We are all together, here in Birmingham, while Gerry goes through treatment. There are plenty of families who have to drive several hours each day for treatment. We have met some of them. We met a family who gets up at 4 am to drive their two year old to UAB for radiation each day. His appointment is at 8 am. We realize how fortunate we are to live in the midst of a big medical community. There are families who are separated during treatment, with the patient and part of the family in one city, and the rest of the family in another.

There are many cancer patients whose chemotherapy is not oral. Those people have to go to the hospital and receive it, sometimes in painful ways. Some of them have to remain in the hospital for their treatments. We have the enormous blessing of outpatient treatment.

We have a city full of family and frends. I can't imagine what it must be like for people who have moved far away from their extended families, or who, for whatever reason don't have extended family on whom they can call in a time of crisis. What do those parents do when they need help with the kids? Who brings them wonderful dinners when they are just too tired and stressed to think about cooking? Who surrounds them with a barrage of fervent prayers constantly offered on their behalf? We are so blessed.

What about those people who get bogged down in the statistics and prognoses and predictions of the medical community? There are people who are told they have only a short time to live, who actually accept that, and by accepting it, facilitate their own deaths. How blessed we are that Gerry has a fighting spirit and a deep and true love for his life. How blessed we are that God gives us all the strength to take up this fight. How blessed we are that we know enough about God to ask Him for that strength. If you are facing your own medical crisis, and the numbers aren't in your favor, DON'T TAKE IT LYING DOWN! Doctors know a lot of facts and fancy words, they know case histories and medical journal articles, they know certain things about the way the human body generally works, but they don't know God's will for us. They can't tell the future. They are wrong every day, probably almost as often as they are right. There is plenty they don't know about the way the human body works, and there is an especially large gap in their knowledge of the way the mind, spirit, and soul work with our bodies to heal ourselves.

The medical community does acknowledge that most of us use only a small part of our minds. (Some of us a smaller part than others!) It is my belief that somewhere in that unused majority, God has placed our ability to heal ourselves. Some people are able to reach deep inside and find that part and find healing from seemingly unhealable wounds, incurable illnesses. I think that sometimes, THAT is God's miracle for us. We all have it in us, that capacity for a miracle. We just have to find it, trust it, pray for it, use it. God can give us a miracle in a flashy, now-you-see-it-now-you-don't kind of way, where we feel His healing touch and there is a dramatic, instant recovery. (A friend of mine calls that the Deluxe Package.) But I think that God can also give us our miracle by a quiet whisper in our hearts, a whisper that points the way to that latent self-healing part of us. That's the kind of healing that isn't so dramatic, the kind that happens slowly, day-by-day, with occasional setbacks and stumbles, and is every bit as miraculous and born of God as the flashy kind. We are hoping and praying for the flashy kind, so that there can be no doubt in even the most cynical mind that this is a miracle from God, but meanwhile, we are fighting and working and praying hard for the slow, steady, self-healing kind. That, too, is straight from God.

I'm certainly not trying to villify the doctors. Our doctors have been wonderful and have given us great care. Some of them have prayed with us, and I'm sure they are praying for us. I'm just saying that doctors don't know God's will, and that we have to have the courage to say, "Thank you for helping me in every way you can, but please keep your statistics to yourself. We have no intention of conforming to that. God is not bound by those charts and numbers, and so we choose not to be either."

So we choose not to be bound by any numbers or predictions. We choose, as we always have, life.

Live it out loud and in color.

Love,
Laura

Monday, September 02, 2002 at 09:29 PM (CDT)

Dear friends and family,

Wow! What a fun and relaxing weekend we had in Atlanta with our friends. We had big breakfasts every morning, hung out at parks with the kids during the day, and played board games and laughed until the wee hours every night. That was just what we needed! There were no schedules, no demands, not even any expectations. We just enjoyed being together with people we've known for 17 years and doing what we always do together.

Thanks to modern technology, the ingenuity of my brilliant (even with half his brain tied behind his back) husband, and a well stocked Radio Shack, the kids were able to watch DVDs in the car all the way to Atlanta and back. Boy, did that add to our peaceful trip! Gerry rigged up our laptop with a car power source, three way splitter for three sets of headphones, and amplifier to give enough volume, along with a velcro strap to hold it in place. What a man!

We are feeling great after the R&R, and Gerry has only 8 more radiation treatments to go. Things are looking good for us to take a fantastic trip in early October. We will start by going to New Jersey to visit with other friends we have had for 17 years and spend some good time with our Goddaughter. Then we will head to Jamaica, to a resort where each family is assigned a nanny. That way, whenever we need a rest or some grown up time, then the nanny can take over. We weren't sure we'd have the energy for something like Disney or Italy, which both involve a lot of walking, so we chose an all-inclusive resort where we can just lie on the beach if we want.

Lots of Love,
Laura

Since it has been a while, we are double teaming this entry. I have to agree with Laura, that this weekend of R &R was fabulous. We even got in some homestyle BBQ for the holiday. We had a late lunch on Monday at the newest Dreamland BBQ, in Alpharetta, GA. The food was great, but they don't quite have the sweet tea correct. Still, as always, it is well worth the trip.

Also, speaking of food, we had a great parent night out dinner at Bones on Saturday night. Bones is definitely one of the top steak houses in the country. The service was outstanding as well as the food. I highly recommend it when you are next in Atlanta.

So, I am going to be spending the next few days recovering from my food indulgences this weekend. I am still feeling great. No real side effects from chemo or radiation. I will try to take a digital photo with the new Kojak look and post it to the site in the next few days. Going now to watch a funny movie before bed. I am looking forward to a busy and productive day at work tomorrow.

Also, thanks to Leo Joseph, who due to his eclectic selections of music at work, gave me the answer to a Trivial Pursuit question. When the question listed off the first names of the members of the Swedish Super Group ABBA, I was able to name the group instantly. Let's start with Spyro Gyra tomorrow Leo.

Yours in Christ,
Gerry

Wednesday, August 28, 2002 at 01:58 PM (CDT)

Dear family and friends,

I tried to live up to our goal of having an entry nearly every day. I wrote this message last night, but the Caring Bridge server was down and I couldn't post the message! So here it is, better late than never.

In general, no news is good news. We saw the Radiation Oncologist today - that's a weekly event, usually just before or after radiation. Anyway, the word is that Ger is a model patient. He isn't having headaches, even though they have been able to wean him down to half of his original steroid dosage. (Yeah!) He doesn't have thrush, a possible side effect of the steroids. His weight isn't changing - i.e. the steroids aren't making him ferociously hungry nor is the chemo making him sick. His blood counts are staying in the normal ranges so far, and he's still able to go to work everyday and be fairly normal. Those are all amazing things when you consider the size (huge) and location (everywhere) of his tumor. I tell him he's already a walking miracle.

He has had 14 of his scheduled 25 radiation treatments. His last radiation day should be September 12th, and that will be his last chemo day at the current dosage as well. We will then have about 5 weeks off before he has another MRI to see how he's doing. After that, he will begin the heavier chemo regimen. We are trying to plan a family vacation to be taken during that "off" time. We have the doc's okay, so now we just have to finalize where and figure out funding. "Jump and the net will appear." We don't really care what we have to do or which cards we have to max out to get there. This is very important to us. (It's also very exciting and something really great to be the light at the end of this first tunnel!)

Gerry is enjoying the normalcy of feeling swamped at work. He's getting teased about adding a new excuse to the company's list of lame excuses for being late for work - "My radiation ran late because the machine went down." We are so fortunate and blessed that his employers are such good and Godly men. They couldn't be more wonderful to him.

Speaking of Godly men, I went to Office Max today for a quick copy and laminating job. While waiting for the laminator to get warm, the man behind the counter struck up a conversation with me. He asked how many kids I had, and I told him about them, and he jokingly said he'd put me on the prayer list at his church. I replied that I would love for him to put my husband on that list instead, and told him about Gerry. That was unlike me, or at least the old, pre-tumor me. Anyway, the talk got serious then, and he had me write down Gerry's name, and I added this website address. (I hope he's reading this!)

This wonderful man of God then began to tell me a story of hope from his own life, a story of his wife battling a life-threatening illness, and of her subsequent miraculous recovery. He quoted me his favorite scripture, which helped him in his time of need, and we discussed God's many amazing blessings. All this over a 32 cent copy job! At the end of the conversation, after I had paid for the copies and laminating, he asked me if our family was struggling financially yet and handed me his business card. He said that if we ever needed a fundraiser, his wife could do a Premiere Jewelry fundraiser for us.

I was very touched by the kindness and generosity of this man. He was God's angel for me today. God tends to send me at least one every day, an extraordinarily bright spot in the day. I pray for special blessings for my Office Max friend.

On a totally unrelated subject, for those of you who have been following Zak's karate career, he did get his rank promotion to Orange Belt today. He was rightfully proud of himself. I told him, before we went in today, that I was more proud of his effort and his attitude than I ever would be of any rank he attains. His classes will now change to Monday and Wednesday, and he gets to use sparring gear now. Very exciting!

I asked Patrick today if he is getting used to Daddy's bald head. He said he is, and we agreed that most things aren't so bad once you get used to them. I guess that's true for Gerry and me, too. He said today that he just listens to his body every day, and since he is feeling good, he isn't bothered by worry or fear. We would rather focus inward, on how he is actually feeling, than get too bogged down in diagnoses and prognoses and blood count numbers and possible side effects and all the outward minutiae that can rob us of our joy. I think of it as skimming along the surface of reality, keeping our heads above water and heading on downstream. Every now and then that insidious undercurrent called fear threatens to drag me down. That's when I have to use my undertow strategy - swim sideways, looking at the banks - which means, look around me, take stock of here and now, and realize the joy in the journey. That's how I break the grip of fear whenever I feel it, and get myself back to bobbing along, enjoying the ride. It pays to have a strategy. That's true in any kind of crisis.

I read a quote today that said something like, "Dream big...but keep it simple!" I like that. I have big dreams for my life and my family. I want us, together, to see our boys grow into loving, honest, good men. I want us to dance at their weddings. I want us to be there to spoil our grandkids. I want us to be around to take care of our parents if they need us. I want to grow old with Gerry in this house, day by day, making our life together. Those are big dreams. They didn't seem so big two months ago, but they are. They are also simple. Love God. Love each other. Teach our children to do the same. It doesn't get much simpler than that.

Thank you for all of your prayers. They are working. For those of you who are new to this whole reaching-out-to-God-through-prayer thing, I saw another interesting quote today. "Don't cry out to God as a last resort; reach out to Him first." It's easy. Just talk to Him. I think He likes that.

Lots of love,

Laura

Monday, August 26, 2002 at 08:17 PM (CDT)

Hi family and friends!

We had a nice weekend. Lots of good time was spent with family and friends. Ger lost a lot of hair, and then got fed up and shaved what was left! It was falling out because of the radiation, and only in the places where the beam enters and exits. Since it was falling out in certain spots only, it looked kind of like he had the mange. Plus, his scalp was irritated and his hair hurt, like when you've had a bad headache or fever or a too-tight ponytail. So shaving seemed like the best option.

Patrick was quite dismayed at the sight of his dad with a bald head, but he got over it. He rubbed Gerry's head, and felt some stubble, (because you know Gerry can shave at 8 a.m. and have 10 a.m. shadow - it's the Lebanese genes), and decided to call his daddy "Cactus Head." That seemed to make Patrick feel okay about it. Gerry likes to call it his Mr. Clean look. I have called it Kojak (he needs a lollipop,) and Uncle Fester. He didn't like that last one too much. But then again we've always harassed each other and neither of us would have it any other way.

We played Scrabble with some friends until the wee hours on Saturday night and had a blast. Yes, we are such geeks that we have Scrabble stories that go back years. There were great moves, words that were played which weren't really words, great attempts to bluff down a challenge, etc. Ger is the king of becoming fodder for our Scrabble stories. We realized this weekend that he takes a rather backwards approach to the game. Most of us look at the letter tiles we have, then look at the board, and try to think of a word that we can make with our letters to fit onto the board. Gerry, on the other hand, tends to randomly select an interesting word that pops into his head, then see if he can somehow morph the letters he has into working. Or sometimes he gets so stuck that he throws out total garbage and tries to bluff his way through. Like the time he tried to add the prefix "un" onto "creepy." He tried in vain to argue that uncreepy is a word. Anyway, a roaring good time and lots of good food was had by all!

A huge thank you needs to be said again to all the wonderful folks who are bringing us meals! My days are very hectic with all my chauffer duties, and Gerry is tired, so neither of us is in any shape to cook or otherwise figure out dinner these days. Thanks again, publicly, to Charlotte Rumore for coordinating the meals. Everyone should have a friend as sweet and kind and genuinely Christlike as Charlotte. What a treasure.

That reminds me of one of the really cool things to come from all this. Many of our friends from different segments of our lives are interacting and getting to know one another. Some are only getting a glimpse of one another through the public guestbook messages, but others are meeting because of coordinating meals or other help. I hope you guys enjoy each other as much as we enjoy all of you! Gerry and I pride ourselves on being able to be friends with a wide variety of people. It's fun to see some of those different groups mingling a little. If you like someone's guestbook entry, and there's an email address for that person, then email and say something nice!

We are planning a long weekend trip for this weekend. We're looking forward to leaving Cancer in Birmingham for a few days. We probably won't update the site from Friday until Monday, unless the Spirit really moves us to say something.

I have the joy back in my journey now. I realized today as I was running errands that it had been at least half an hour since I had given a thought to the tumor. It was nice to realize that it isn't dominating everything I do and think anymore. Of course, I do have moments when it hits me full force, but I just try to take a breath, ask God for a little help, remind myself to take only 24 hours at a time, and keep moving. It works. You should try it the next time you find yourself about to have a serious stress meltdown about something.

Jacob was sick over the weekend. He had strep throat, so I had fun trying to keep him separate from Gerry as much as possible. Poor J was soooo sick, but he's very smart, and listens to his body, so he slept almost all day Friday. I took him to the doctor Friday afternoon, and by Saturday morning, he was a new boy. God bless modern medicine, and the judicious and well-placed use of antibiotics! God bless Dr. Judy Habeeb, for suggesting that we take a dose at the office to make sure it would stay down, so that I didn't have to force my baby to take a shot! Jacob is such a trooper. He gulped his meds and then let the nurse quiz him to keep his mind off being sick. She said, "Let's think about something else. What can we think about?" I told her, "He's good at Math!" So she began with 5 plus 5, but rapidly realized I wasn't joking. She couldn't believe that a 6 year old first grader could add numbers like 46 plus 29 in his head. Jacob was very proud to show her how smart he is, and the distraction worked. Win-win!

The kids have generally been great lately, and have seemed to take all this cancer stuff in stride. They were fantastic today while Gerry took a nap. They have adjusted well to his needing quiet nap time in the afternoons. Gerry and I are having a little trouble adjusting our schedules to accomodate his naps, but we're getting there. He has to re-vamp his already abbreviated work day, and I have to remember that I only have a couple of hours at a time to get my doings done. I enjoy seeing him so much, though, and I want to be the one to ferry him around town. I am grateful that we have the time together.

We have a wonderful lady who cleans our house, and she came today. She even brought food! Coming home to a freshly scrubbed house and clean sheets is fantastic. Thanks to everyone who has or does contribute to our "Friends of Gerald L. Kimes, Jr." account. That is how we are able to have her come every other week. It's a big blessing!

Our spirits are high, and our faith is strong. We will get our miracle. It may be a long journey, because it seems like God has a lot of work to do through us along the way, but we're ready. We can face anything together. I have never known that more than I do now. Find that person in your life who makes you complete, who makes you a better person, who builds you up when you need it most, and then hold on tight! If you aren't where you should be in your relationships, then there's no time like the present to straighten it all out. Find that person who is good for you, and don't settle for less. We all deserve the kind of relationship that Gerry and I have. God wants no less for us because He loves us.

Thus ends today's mini-sermon.

Gerry and I and our children pray for all of you daily, that you find peace and abundant blessings. It can't be said too often that we love you and treasure you and feel humbled and grateful to have all of you praying for us and sending us your love. Thank you.

Love,
Laura

Saturday, August 24, 2002 at 08:24 AM (CDT)

August 24, 2002

As Laura said in her last journal, I am feeling more fatigued. I am ½ way through the radiation treatments. Except for needing an afternoon nap, I am still feeling great.

Going, Going… There goes the hair. It has started falling out. But as someone pointed out to me yesterday, mine will come back, and I am not spending hundreds or thousands of dollars to hang on to it. The hair was never really an issue with me. This gave me an excuse to have the buzz cut I wanted for years.

Rick and Bubba have a promo spot that says something like 200 feet of buffet line and only 4 hands. I think about that when confronted by a choice of how to react to a situation. We really have a buffet of reactions we can pull out and use. And the best part is it is a buffet, we are not required to use any particular one or combination. I have been making a conscious effort to keep those reactions positive (like yeast rolls, fried chicken, and gravy) not questionable (like rice/broccoli casserole, mystery meat in sauce). Why even put those things on your plate so that you feel obligated to at least eat some? Go with the things you know are the right choices. My problem all along has been to keep those kinds of thoughts straight in the heat of the moment.

When the 8 year old (going on 16) smarts off for the 5th time this afternoon, it is hard to keep the hands down, the voice calm and reason with the child. I am lucky to have a new perspective that I don’t feel like I have time to fix relationships later on. I have always known in the back of my mind that fixing relationships is not really an option, but now I think of the buffet line. I also like to think of the trust piggy bank, which I believe is a concept I picked up from John Maxwell (21 Irrefutable Laws of Leadership).

I highly recommend reading any and all of his books. They are entertaining as well as educational. He states that in any relationship, each person has a piggy bank associated with the other person in the relationship. Every time you do something you say you are going to do, you deposit a penny in that person’s piggy bank with your name on it. Anytime you do not do what you say you are going to do, you withdraw a quarter. If you reach in for a quarter and there is not one there, you have effectively ended the trust in your relationship. Trust, just like a piggy bank, cannot go negative. If you think about relationships in your life, I believe this is a great analogy for how trust works. It is a much larger withdrawal when you break trust, than the deposit for keeping trust. It also shows the time it takes to build trust with another person.

Laura mentioned the neuro-psyche exam results. Apparently the grade junky part of my brain is completely unaffected by the tumor. I don’t like being told that I am below average in anything. I know my short term memory sucks, it always has, but I still want to know how they graded me on line drawings. I was too shocked to ask during the results. Oh well, let Go. I don’t need to remember line drawings in my work, or my daily life. Oh yeah, I asked for that exam, stupid me. We now have a baseline to compare any changes to, which was really the only point. Not to break down my ego. As my wife has always said, nothing damages my ego. I am quick to point out that I do not know any positive effects from a damaged ego, so I keep mine intact.

My brother is preaching the sermons this weekend at St. Elias. He called me last night to let me know what the gospel reading was. I do not envy him his task of creating a sermon on this reading, the second half of the story of Nicodemus, from John 3: 12-21.
Knowing my brother, he does not want to shoot for the obvious of John 3:16, but actually dig a little farther into the whole story of being born again of water and spirit.

Well this may be a little short, but I have a private screening of Jimmy Neutron, Boy Genius beginning any minute, as well as a Tai-Chi class at 9:30am.

I hope this finds everyone in good spirits as I am.

Love always in Christ,

Gerry Kimes

Thursday, August 22, 2002 at 02:35 PM (CDT)

Hello, dear family and friends!

I apologize that it has been several days since our last update. Part of the reason for the delay is my new committment to get more rest. I had previously done most of my updating after 11 p.m., but I'm dreaming by then these days! Another reason for my literary absence is that I didn't know what to say. I was feeling a little Eeyore-ish, and felt I had nothing to offer.

Due to several seemingly small things,and some help from above, I am over it now! I'm more Tigger-y again! (For those of you who are wondering about these bizarre Pooh references, you need to borrow my Amanda Gore video on stress busting, or go to her website at www.amandagore.com and get your own video. You won't be sorry. She's fantastic and hilarious!)

We have had a good week. Gerry is starting to feel some of the fatigue that comes with radiation, so we are slowing down a little and adjusting to compensate for that. He will now be partaking of a wonderful tradition mostly associated with toddlers and college students - the afternoon nap. In fact, he's having one right now!

We met with the neuro-pshyche guys this morning to hear the results of Gerry's fun day as a lab rat. As we suspected, he is at least above average in just about every way. The only area where he wasn't outstanding was a visual memory kind of thing that we have always known was not his strong suit. No biggie - this was just a baseline, anyway. It is meant to compare Gerry now to Gerry later, not Gerry now to everyone else. The really great news is that all of the areas that he needs for his job and his everyday life, such as verbal skills, complex analytical and reasoning abilities, general knowledge, etc. are in wonderful shape. I keep reminding him that with a tumor as big and infiltrated as his, he really shouldn't even be able to walk around, so he is already a "miracle boy." We need to let go of the silly little deficiencies, such as not being able to reproduce a line drawing from memory (who cares?), and rejoice that he is so very intact!

Zak and Jacob are enjoying school very much. Patrick is anxious to start back again. We were able to go, as a whole family, to watch Zak take a rank advancement test in his karate class yesterday. He was invited by his Sensei (Master/Teacher) to test early, because Sensei thought he was ready. That was amazing to me because Zak has missed several classes since Gerry's diagnosis. Zak was unsure and nervous about testing, but Sensei reassured him and I'm so glad Zak went through with it. It is such a thrill to us to watch him. He's like a different person when he is in that dojo and gets out on the mat to do his thing! It's like he flips a switch. He is very self-assured and calm and focused...it's wonderful. We won't get the official results until Tuesday, but I'm pretty sure he will be getting his orange belt. His Sensei knows our situation, and would never have encouraged Zak so strongly to test if he thought there was a possibility he'd fail.

Jacob is still campaigning hard for more math homework and to go to second grade. He is such an interesting and neat little guy. Last year, in kindergarten, he was allowed to go to second grade for math, because he was way ahead. This year, he wants to skip first grade altogether and go to second! We have convinced him to give first grade a chance, and to give his teacher a chance to get him back into second grade math and/or find ways to keep him challenged. You have your work cut out for you, Mrs. C, but you seem to be up to it!

Patrick seems to be coming out of his 6 month bad mood. He did not like going with us to treatment the one morning I took him, so now he goes to a friend's house each morning. (Thanks a million, Pat!)

Gerry continues to suffer absolutely no nausea from the chemo. We are sleeping well, he is eating well, and he even still has hair. So far, so good! We can certainly live with a little fatigue!

We check the website daily like you do, and it is so wonderful for us to read your messages! (I must confess, being such a numbers person, I love watching the visitor count increase, too!) This site is such a two way street. I have prayed a lot recently that God use Gerry and me as his instruments. That image came to me in prayer one day and I thought it very fitting for us since we met in band all those years ago. We aren't tools, or messengers, but instruments. I think he plays us through this site, and what you're reading now is the music. Take hope and encouragement and inspiration from this site, and from watching God be with us in our battle. We take hope and encouragement and inspiration from you, through this site. God is a great composer.

I don't think I've mentioned this in my journal entries, but I came across a quote when I was looking for a card for a friend shortly before Gerry's diagnosis. I'll paraphrase.

God only gives us 24 hours in a day because that's about all we can handle. When we are feeling overwhelmed, it's because we're either holding onto hours from the past, or we're borrowing some from the future.

I cling to that some days. I remind myself to take it 24 at a time. I can handle that right now, and sometimes only that. I remind myself not to forego the joys of today for fear and dread of what tomorrow may bring. I have been a little lost and overwhelmed the last few days. I felt as if the peace I'd found had somehow slipped away from me. I didn't know how that happened, nor how to get it back. Then it came to me, "Hello? Remember God?" So I prayed to God, a very simple prayer - "God, help! I need peace. Come to me. Help me. Let me feel that you're with me. Send me your Holy Spirit." My internal soundtrack would click onto a line from a hymn at church, "Come Lord Jesus, come to me, in my soul by faith to dwell." He came, of course, and now my peace is back. I have rediscovered the joy in the journey.

I am learning to Let Go and Let God, as the old saying goes.

Thanks for reading and checking on us!

Love,
Laura

Tuesday, August 20, 2002 at 12:15 AM (CDT)

August 19, 2002

Another day walking, talking, and yes, I can even chew gum. I did so even while walking and talking.

I met with Dr. Fiveash, Radio-Oncologist this morning after treatment. Everything is going well and we are stepping down my steroid dose, gradually. Still have no ill effects of the radiation and chemo combo. Don’t expect any.

Had a good day at work. Whenever Charlie Spencer, our shipping manager for 25 years is out, I come to a new appreciation for what he does. I can do a passable job in that position, but the man has been excelling at it for 25 years, so much so that he is a legend in B’ham plumbing supply. Lucky me, I am the guy who has to find a replacement when Charlie retires in a few years. David Allen is looking good. (just kidding Dave).

I have come to question how other people deal with the diagnosis of cancer. It appears that many people blindly accept what ever the doctor tells them. And if others experience the initial shock the way that we did, it is no wonder that cancer kills so many people so quickly. I don’t blame the oncologist who first gave us the news, he was trying to be honest, and uplifting. But when the conversation contains words like 2-3 months to live, it is hard to get past that point to the uplifting part, about doing everything possible to fight. I have to admit that Laura and I spent the first two days in shock and disbelief trying to learn everything we could about my prognosis. After reading terrible statistics about similarly diagnosed patients, I refused to read any more. I realized that my mental state had as much to do with my physical well being as anything else.

So I relied on listening carefully to my body, which was not sending me signals of any problems. I don’t have any real problems, so I live my life as close to normal as I can. I do not have the same energy level, but only from a stamina perspective. My days need to end in the mid afternoon, not 5-6pm. However, I know I am just as effective as ever, I just need to be more efficient to get everything done in time.

Everyone needs to pay attention to their mental state. The body/mind is one organism. They cannot exist apart. Logic, without emotion, and spirituality cannot maintain a healthy person. Experience your life. Experience what your body is telling you. Those little aches and pains, may be from some emotional blockage, not a purely physical ailment.

Here is a bible passage from the book of Sirach, chapter 2:1-11, that I have found comforting:

1 My son, when you come to serve the LORD, prepare yourself for trials.
Be sincere of heart and steadfast, undisturbed in time of adversity.
Cling to him, forsake him not; thus will your future be great.
Accept whatever befalls you, in crushing misfortune be patient;
For in fire gold is tested, and worthy men in the crucible of humiliation.
Trust God and he will help you; make straight your ways and hope in him.
You who fear the LORD, wait for his mercy, turn not away lest you fall.
You who fear the LORD, trust him, and your reward will not be lost.
You who fear the LORD, hope for good things, for lasting joy and mercy.
Study the generations long past and understand; has anyone hoped in the LORD and been disappointed? Has anyone persevered in his fear and been forsaken? has anyone called upon him and been rebuffed?
Compassionate and merciful is the LORD; he forgives sins, he saves in time of trouble.


By the way, my soundtrack includes a lot of Frank Sinatra (thank you Macaroni Grill), Charlie Daniels Band, Creed, and Van Halen. No one ever said I was normal.


Walk with God, bathed in His peace,

Gerry Kimes

Sunday, August 18, 2002 at 10:04 AM (CDT)

Good morning, friends and family!

A funny thing has been happening to me since all this started. I now have an internal soundtrack. "What?" you ask? Well, surely you have all experienced having a song stuck in your head. Usually that happens because you've just heard that song. Since the first night in the hospital, though, I have had a constant mental soundtrack to my life that is not at all dependent on my having heard a certain song recently. It's really interesting, because if I'm not quite sure how I'm feeling at a particular moment, all I have to do is get quiet and listen to the soundtrack. I can tell how I'm really feeling down deep by listening to the song. The first night in the hospital, the night before Gerry's biopsy, I couldn't sleep at all. While I sat in a chair watching Gerry sleep, the song was Aerosmith's "Don't Want to Miss a Thing." Other songs have had their air time, although right now, I can't think what they were, because today's soundtrack is too prominent. The others were more upbeat and optimistic. I'll get back to you on those when I remember them. Sometimes they are Church songs, or even just pieces of Church songs, like one line that says, "Cease Not Praying."

Today, the overwhelming soundtrack is a country song, "Another Day in Paradise." (NOT the Phil Collins song.) I did actually hear this song this morning, but I heard lots of other ones today, too. This is the one that stuck, though. For those of you not familiar with this one, some of it goes like this:

Kids screamin', phone ringin',
dog barkin' at the mailman bringin'
that stack of bills, Overdue
Good mornin' Baby, how are you?
I gotta half hour, quick shower
Take a drink of milk but the milk's gone sour
My funny face makes you laugh
Twist the top on and I put it back
There goes the washin' machine
Baby don't kick it
I promise I'll fix it
Long about a million other things

Well it's okay, it's alright
Just another day in Paradise
Well there's no place that I'd rather be
Two hearts, one dream
Wouldn't trade it for anything
And I ask the Lord, every night
For just another day in Paradise

I have always liked this song because I can relate to it so well. There's always that kind of chaotic scene going on around here and always something needing to be repaired by Gerry, but we have always savored our chaos because it's ours. We wouldn't really have it any other way. These days we do thank God each night for another day together and ask for another. Not that we didn't before, but now there is a new urgency to it all. There's also a new beauty and order to it all. It's as though we were living in color, and in stereo, but now everything has been digitally enhanced, there's surround-sound, and the volume is turned UP! We see every little thing differently now.

Zak's teacher, Mrs. Morris, gave us a book called When God Winks. (I know that title is supposed to be underlined, and I tried very hard last time I gave a book title to find a way to do it. This journal form on the site won't let me do it. I even tried pasting my entry from Word, but the site still ate the underline. It's driving me crazy. Those of you who know me also know that I strive to represent myself well with my grammar and correct usage of the English language. Thanks, Mrs. Guy.) Anyway, before I digress too much, I'll get back to the book. I confess I haven't had the chance to begin reading it yet, but I understand that it is about all the little coincidences and serendipities in our lives. The book points out that many of those are from God. In our new surround-sound lives, Gerry and I have really noticed those little winks from God, and have recognized them as such from the first day at the neurologist's office. We see God everywhere now. It's amazing.

Speaking of that first day at the Dr. Brockington's office, today marks the one month anniversary of that fateful MRI. I can't believe it has already been a month! What a long, strange trip it's been. (I told you my life now has a soundtrack!) The last month has been a whirlwind and a roller coaster, but I'd have to say the great majority of our days have been upbeat and positive. We have experienced love and blessings like never before. We have discovered the power and influence of this site, and truly believe that we are doing the Lord's work by sharing our experiences with you. We have renewed our faith in God and our devotion to Him and have enjoyed the fruits of that relationship. We have seen our relationship with each other, heretofore an already amazing one, grow even stronger, closer, and more mutually nourishing. I have seen Gerry grow and change and become a more outwardly emotional person. I used to tease him that he had no emotions, and that it would take a certain well placed type of kick to make him cry. I guess we got our kick...

It's like we are fully awake now. We were awake before, and living well, we think, but it was that I-still-need-one-more-cup-of-coffee kind of awake. Now we are wide awake, no mental cobwebs to clear, ready to face the day! We're wired for sound and ready to go!

Speaking of which, my children are about to crawl out of their skins to go to the pool, so I'd better go suit up! We are spending the day with some friends, having a nice family day in their backyard around their pool. Paradise.
Go find your Paradise and enjoy it.

God bless you and your loved ones.

Love,
Laura

Thursday, August 15, 2002 at 11:23 PM (CDT)

This morning, woke up only 5 minutes before the alarm, so I felt like I got all of the sleep I was going to get anyway. Isn’t that a terrible way to live in the first place. We all push ourselves so hard that it seems perfectly normal to have to be jolted awake by the radio/alarm.

I think I will follow my friend Michael Glaser’s suggestion and start weaving hemp shirts and tending to my free-range chickens in the crystal garden. Yeah Right! Every time I hear the words free-range chickens, all I can think of is John Lovitz in a “League of Their Own” kicking chickens and screaming about leashes.

7:20 am brought another exciting Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride in the Clinac23 Linear Accelerator; to get an idea of just how cool this process is, check out this web-site for the machine. http://www.varian.com/onc/prd055.html After the ra..diation (Ship out of danger?) we attended 8am mass at St. Elias for the Feast of the Assumption of Mary.

As Laura said in her journal entry yesterday, my brother is a great homilist. His sermon about the reason for our devotion to Mary was great. It was so good, I am going to do a horrible job of summarizing the sermon, especially for those non-Catholics out there who usually cannot understand our prayers to Mary. First off, Mary is not worshipped as God is worshipped. For those of you who have seen “My Big Fat Greek Wedding”, Paul pointed out that the Man is the head of the household, but the Woman is the Neck and she can turn the head any way she wants. During the Wedding at Canaan, Mary asked Jesus to perform a miracle, which He was not ready to perform. However, He did as Mary asked. My brother Paul made the point that we petition Mary to intercede with her son on our behalf. He stated that just as our human mothers do not refuse to help us, our Heavenly mother will not refuse to intercede on our behalf. For those of you far better than I am for explaining Catholic beliefs, forgive me for my shortcomings.

After mass, I went to work, and was able to stay for most of the day. I am still feeling 100%, and have no intention of ever feeling different. I believe that God is healing me, and my body is doing its best to get in line with that healing. I am starting to lower my steroid dose at my doctor’s instructions. It is a slow weaning process, that will take several weeks, assuming I do not have any further headaches from swelling.

I hope that everyone who reads this web site, will stop, and take stock of their lives. Make sure that your priorities are straight. As I said before, you really don’t want a slap upside the head to make you stop and think.

Walk with God, bathed in His peace,

Gerry Kimes

Wednesday, August 14, 2002 at 11:00 PM (CDT)

Hello again, friends and family!

I apologize that we always seem to update this after most of you are sleeping, so that you are usually reading the previous day's entry. Oh, well. We catch as catch can these days.

Today was the first day of school for Zak and Jacob. Hopefully, you've seen the Staples commercial where the dad is zinging through the aisles, happily tossing school supplies into his cart while his disgruntled children watch, and a tune plays in the background...cue music..."It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year!" Now, I dearly love my children and love to spend time with them, but enough is enough. There is a reason that violent crime rates dramatically increase in the summer months. My kids are totally sick of the heat, sick of each other and sick of me. I don't think they even realized how ready they were for school to start until they went today. They came home happy and ready to see each other. Hooray!

Patrick spent a large portion of the day with friends, and was even treated to a movie. (Thanks, Charlotte and Michelle!) He had a great time and passed out cold right after dinner. Hooray again!

Gerry continues to undergo radiation and chemo, and is still feeling completely well. He says he has no intentions of feeling otherwise. We have already accepted his healing from God, and we simply demand that his body come in line with God's will. We are willing to be patient while his brain catches up with that healing.

We went again today to the same prayer service we attended last week. All of the kind people there are still praying for us and were delighted to see Gerry still looking and feeling well after 5 treatments. Something kind of interesting happened. I have been slowly reading a book called Miracles Do Happen by Sister Briege McKenna. She is a nun who was given the gift of healing, and finally accepted that gift after fighting it for a while. She has been credited with many healings. The book is on loan from a friend, and since I started reading it, I really haven't discussed it with anyone. Out of the blue today at the prayer service, someone came to me and made reference to the book and to the way Sr. McKenna recommends we pray over someone who is sick. Then tonight at family night dinner at my in-laws' house, another friend brought a message to me that a mutual friend of ours had contacted Sr. McKenna and she is now praying for Gerry. Wow. That seemed very much to me like God moving the little puzzle pieces around again. You bet I'll be finishing that book in the next day or so. There is definitely something in there for me.

While I know this is a short entry, especially for me, I do need to get some sleep. Tomorrow, I will be taking Ger to his 7:20 am radiation, which means dragging three sleepy, not-quite-on-a-school-schedule-yet, little boys out of bed so they can be dressed and ready to go to a neighbor's house by 7am. (Thanks, Leslie!) I really want to drive Ger tomorrow, though, so that we can go from radiation to Liturgy at our church, St. Elias, at 8am. (All are welcome.) It is the Feast of the Assumption and Gerry's brother, Paul, is giving the homily. That is always a treat. We had a sneak preview tonight - we know that he will actually reference the movie My Big Fat Greek Wedding in his sermon. Paul is a fantastic homilist.

It's off to sleep for me.

God bless you abundantly,

Laura

Tuesday, August 13, 2002 at 10:46 PM (CDT)

August 13, 2002

Woke up really early again this morning. Felt reasonably well rested. The lack of sleep did catch up to me during Zak’s Karate class this afternoon.

I had a great morning at the Blue Dragon Academy. My energy level was great, and the class this morning was seated meditation. Sifu John Bright-Fey had great thoughts about keeping yourself calm, relaxed and at peace.

Even after a flat tire on I-65 N at 7:20am (when I was supposed to be at radiation), my father and I were able to make it to the appointment by 7:45am. They were great, worked me right in so that I could make my neuro-psyche exam at 8:00am. I was only a few minutes late. Everyone was very nice, the tester and the psychologist. Lots of lists of words, lists of numbers, stories, etc. to listen to and recall. Tell me these numbers in reverse order. Draw this picture from memory. What is the speed of light? Who wrote Faust? Who was Mahatma Ghandi? What is the Quran? How are the words play and work alike?

Except for not remembering that the speed of light is commonly listed as 186,000 miles per second, I really did not miss any of the other history/knowledge questions. I do not recall the exact details of stories in the exact right order either. But now I can have a trained professional tell me exactly how bad my short term memory has always been.

The exam only lasted 3 hours, which included the 45 minute interview with the psychologist. At least the tester had a reasonable sense of humor, and I tried not to mess with her too much. I did teach her how to pronounce Goethe (author of Faust), and told her not to waste her time reading such a dark depressing story.

After my saint of a dad took care of running around errands for me at work, and getting the flat tire fixed, he took me home in time for me to make the meeting at Shades Mountain Elementary with the kids’ teachers, principal, and counselor. They are a great bunch of people. They already had strategies for keeping the kids directed and filling their time with rewarding tasks helping out with younger grades if necessary. We let them know all the information we have given the kids, as well as how they are coping. School starts tomorrow, and we all believe this will be great for the kids to get back to the structure of school life.

I know this is a rather incomplete entry, but I need to go dream of line drawings, and arranging blocks in certain patterns, and stop watches timing my ineptitudes.

May God bless and keep everyone who has helped us, and continues to pray for our family. I especially pray for Mark Mangels, that his bomb comes to blow up both of our tumors, and for Cathy Bertanzetti.

Walking in God’s light,

Gerry Kimes

Monday, August 12, 2002 at 08:14 PM (CDT)

Dear friends and family,

Well, Gerry has been on the chemo drug Temodar since Friday, and the only change we've noticed is that he is a little more awake these days than usual. We can certainly live with that! He is also doing well with his radiation treatments. Temporarily, they've changed his time to 7:20 am, so I am grateful to my father-in-law, Gerry, for taking him so that I don't have to get the boys up and out at that hour! By the end of the week, he should be back to the 8:00 am slot. That will work out better for me, and then my father-in-law can resume his avid pursuit of the perfect game of golf.

We went to Shades Mountain Elementary today to meet the teachers for Zak and Jacob this year. Everyone at that school is so great! We feel very blessed to have landed there mid-year last year and to already feel settled and comfortable there. With it being a neighborhood school, carpooling and getting help this year will be easy. Zak will have Mrs. Morris this year and Jacob will have Mrs. Coleman. They both seem to be wonderful, caring individuals, who will help our boys through this year in any way they can. We also stopped to say hello to last year's teachers, Mrs. Harvey and Ms. Balazik.

Thanks to the suggestion of my good friend and former teacher, Kristin Glaser, I have set up a meeting with the principal, the counselor, and the boys' teachers. We will meet tomorrow so that I can tell them the details of Gerry's treatment plan, what the boys know, how the boys are handling it so far, etc. The principal, Mrs. Juli Feltham, was very receptive to this meeting and I am thankful for the spirit of teamwork and fellowship that we are getting at Shades Mountain. I also happen to know that many of those wonderful people are joining us in praying for Gerry's healing. Who says there is no prayer in public schools? It's there, if you know where to look...

We are struggling to get onto a suitable schooltime schedule. I'm sure those of you with school aged children are doing the same. Patrick is eagerly anticipating his entry into 4K with Mrs. Noblitt in September. I think it will do all of us some good to have the structure of the school schedule this year. I've never been a very schedule-oriented person. I like to be laid back, and fly by the seat of my pants. We definitely enjoyed our homeschool year with its more casual schedule. However, God, in His infinite wisdom, led us along the path to where we are now, in preparation for this trial, and I couldn't be happier to have the boys exactly where they are!

Gerry gets to have a Neuropsychology exam tomorrow. Oh, joy! We actually requested it. We want a baseline exam on record so that later there can be a comparison if we feel like he is losing function. He isn't expected to lose any neuro function due to his radiation nor chemo, but we decided to ask for a baseline anyway. We have long been advocates of being informed consumers of our healthcare, so we don't mind being vocal about what we think we need. Dr. Nabors has been great. His office didn't hesitate to set up an appointment. The problem was, the appointment they set up was for September 9, which is two days before his last scheduled radiation treatment. Some baseline! So, Gerry didn't hesitate to call the neuro-psyche guys himself and strongly request an earlier exam. They fit him in tomorrow at 8:00 am, which, for now, is not his radiation time. See how God works things out for us? Amazing. Oh, but here's the kicker - Gerry was told he MIGHT be out of there by 2:00 pm, but it could be as late as 5:00 pm! A whole day of neuro-psyche testing. He can't wait.

I reminded him to take his Gameboy, which a sweet, generous, and thoughtful friend gave him for just such an occasion. He also plans to take the third Miss Julia book. For those of you who enjoy Southern authors, try the Miss Julia series by Ann Ross and the Southern Sisters Mysteries by Anne George. They are all good for a laugh and just full of Southern wit and wisdom. The Anne George books are generally set in Birmingham, which is a bonus to us!

Tonight we attended a healing prayer service at St. George Melkite Catholic church, where my aunt Rosalie Ritchey attends. It was a beautiful service full of traditional chanting and eloquent prayers.

Every day, people ask us how we are doing. Every day, I tell them that we seem to be doing better than many of those around us. We are so filled with God's love and uplifted by all of your prayers for us, that we are honestly coping very well with our challenge. We send our prayers to God daily to watch over all of you, and to share with you some of the peace He is giving us. My fervent wish is for each of you to feel God's presence in the very real, by-your-side-all-day, nourishing, calming way that we do.

Every day seems to get a little more normal for us, and every day our faith strengthens that God is with us through this journey and that everything will be alright. The priest at the prayer service tonight reminded Gerry to "Walk by faith, not by sight." Beautiful. We will do that, Father.

God bless you,
Laura

Sunday, August 11, 2002 at 12:16 PM (CDT)

Got up early again this morning. I never was a bright and early kind of person, must be the drugs. I have had 2 out of 25 radiation treatments, and 2 out of 42 chemo treatments.

The chemo drug, temodar (temozolomide) is oral, so I take the pills at bed time, every night. I started Friday, did not notice any ill side effects on Saturday. Took 2nd round last night. Still no ill effects (and I do not expect any, as I have always had a strong stomach).

I feel great, as well as blessed. I really enjoyed Mass at St. Elias last night. The readings were just what I needed, and Fr. Richard’s homily really focused that God’s gifts come in the form of the Holy Spirit. Which I believe is what is giving me such a sense of peace.

Kristin and Alan Glaser, some of our best friends, spent the weekend with us. We played Trivial Pursuit until way too late, and had a great time. As usual, I fell asleep in a chair. They have been such a great source of help and joy. Their beautiful children, MacKenzie and Maddison bring even more happiness into our home. And anyone who brings Thai Food and Sushi is always welcome.

To Malia Go, who has added us to her serial e-mail rantings, we await with baited breath the next exciting installment. Laura and I laughed out loud. To Bette and Rod Go, Malia’s wonderful, overly generous parents, thank you from the bottom of our hearts.

I am really looking forward to getting into a full week’s routine next week. Radiation is at 8am, and only lasts 15 to 30 minutes, putting me at work seriously tardy. But I am happy to be there at all. Tebra Hulsey has already taken care of writing me up once last week for my tardiness.

Thanks in advance to Jeanette Wyrick who called today to say she is making meat pies. I can’t wait to have some.

Thank you to Louis Joseph, our cousin, and a cancer survivor, for the kind words after church last night, and for all of the help you are giving to our extended family. Also, thanks to his wife Wadia.

My apologies to anyone and everyone whose name I mangle in my rantings, I was never good at spelling. Now I just have a better excuse. And don’t think I won’t play the Brain Tumor Card when the times are right.

We are getting ready for lunch with the extended family for my Uncle David and Aunt Jeannie’s wedding anniversary. I need to go. I will try to write daily. Still no promises.

Gerry

Thursday, August 08, 2002 at 04:35 PM (CDT)

Hi everyone!

Another day we're together is another beautiful blessing. Today has been full and interesting. Gerry went to work again this morning after logging in another amazing journal entry. (I joke with him and tell him he'd better get down there and earn at least SOME of his salary!) Most of you know we've been together for 17 years, and have essentially grown up together. I remember when we had Zak, our first son, and I was thrilled and amazed to get to know Gerry as a father, a whole new person than the one I had known before. Now, again, I am amazed to know him more fully as a man of great faith, a man handling a crisis, a man gracefully facing the possibility of his own impending mortality. Never in a million years would I have pictured myself sitting next to Gerry at a charismatic prayer and healing service. To say that kind of thing is out of his comfort zone is a monumental understatement. And yet, there we were yesterday, side by side, witnessing the gifts of the Holy Spirit around us, and being completely open to God's plan for us. Incredible surprises greet me every day. I am so eternally grateful to God for putting me with this brilliant, gentle, generous, logical, funny, loving family man. What did I ever do to deserve such a life?

That brings me to a theory of mine. Gerry is always teasing me because I have many theories covering a variety of subjects. However, even he admitted yesterday that many of my theories tend to be true when it's all said and done. So here's my theory on all this. Ger has always been a natural leader, and has influenced those around him. He has gathered friendship and respect from the people around him ever since I've known him. He is generally known, however, to be a man of logic. He is respected for his pragmatism and his analytical abilities. Although he has always had a relationship with God and a faith, he has kept that faith on a highly personal and private level.

So I figure, that puts him in an amazing position to make a huge impact after being healed. If someone who is known for logic and reason, and well respected as a rational individual, stands up and says, "Look at me; I have received a miracle from God", then what an amazing effect that could have!

So getting back to our day, I attended a rosary for Gerry this morning while he was still at work. It was arranged by my sweet, hard-working friend and neighbor Vivian, to give Gerry an extra prayerful send off as he began treatment today. It was nice. Then I met an old friend for a nice quiet lunch. It was such an oasis in the middle of my hectic life to have those two calm, peaceful events this morning. It was great to catch up on things with you, Lisa!

I retrieved Gerry from work, where I'm getting a rather unpleasant reputation for being his "chaperone," and our next stop was UAB. A great many of you have sent us information about all sorts of doctors, treatments, and facilities. We want you to know that we are grateful that so many of you care enough to do your own research and to try to help us. We have done exhaustive research as well, following up on all the leads we have been given and on things we found on our own. Not all brain tumors are alike, and Gerry's is particularly difficult. It makes a great many treatments impossible because it is so spread throughout his entire brain. We have spoken to doctors all over the country, and were impressed with how many of them knew our doctor at UAB and felt that we couldn't be in better hands. We have felt God's hand guiding us through this process from the beginning, and we are continually led to be right here at UAB. Those of us who have been in Birmingham all our lives may have a tendency to underestimate UAB because it is so familiar, but it is a world class facility. Amazing research is being conducted right here in our own backyard. There were no viable alternatives anywhere that Gerry would be eligible to use that couldn't be done right here, in the loving embrace of family and friends. The bottom line is that medicine doesn't yet have anything to offer Gerry besides an extension of his time. There is no cure. Our cure will have to come from God. So, after much soul searching and prayer, we have made the decision to remain here under the care of Dr. Burt Nabors.

Gerry had his first radiation treatment this afternoon. It went well, I guess. There isn't much to it, to the outside observer. Gerry lies on a table wearing a mask that is custom molded for his face, and which is snapped down onto the table. That is to hold his head perfectly still and in the same place each time. Then this morning, they took some x-rays, which they will repeat every fifth time, to make sure the alignment is still right for the radiation. The actual radiation wasn't much different from the x-rays. The machine moved around and positioned itself, then Ger heard a buzz and that was it. That process was repeated a few times, and he was finished. Afterwards, the nurse drew blood for his baseline labwork, so that he can begin his chemo tomorrow.

The chemo drugs were delivered to us last night from a special pharmacy. I looked into this big box and...whoa! I was a little overwhelmed at all the bottles. I felt better when I realized that the pharmacy had packaged each day's dose in a separate bottle. That was a relief! So, for those of you who are detail people, here are the treatment details as we understand them right now. Gerry will have radiation treatments five days a week at 8 am. This will continue for 25 treatments, or five weeks. We originally thought it was going to be six weeks, but it is based on the total amount of radiation they are trying to give, so I guess they are giving more at each dose than we thought at first. He will have blood drawn weekly to keep a check on all his blood counts. Anyhow, starting tomorrow night, he will also take a nightly dose of a chemo drug called temozolomide. We are so fortunate that the drug is given in pill form, so he will just swallow five pills each night at bedtime. The chemo run is for 42 doses, which is six weeks. After all that, there will be a resting period of a few weeks, where they let his blood counts normalize, and then he will begin a much heavier chemo regimen. That will be a dose that is roughly triple the current dose, and he will take it for five out of every 28 days. We don't know how many of those cycles he will take.

So that's the plan for now. A few more thanks are necessary. Thanks to Mary Alice Guerrera, Gina Henley, Adrienne Reed, and someone else from St. Elias (I"m sorry I'm not sure who), who have brought us meals so far. We are eating much better than we normally do! Also, thanks to Adrienne Reed, Michelle DiPiazza, Patricia Weaver, Christine LaRussa, Candy West, Laura Fandos, Paul Kimes, Beverly and Gerry Kimes Sr., Gayle Kassouf and kids, and any and everyone else who has babysat my children over the last few weeks. What a help to us to have such wonderful people around us to love our children and get them out of our stressful situation for a while.

Thank you especially to Vivian LeMaster, Christine LaRussa, Melissa Jones, Gigi Copeland, Kristyn Bara, Tracey Shunnarah, and Elizabeth Eaton, the wonderful team of friends who came over while we were out of town and scrubbed my house within an inch of its life! My bathroom has never looked so good! Those of you who know me especially well will remember that I have always been the type of mom to take the kids to the park instead of scrubbing the shower. I don't regret that at all, but it sure was great to come home from Minneapolis to a sparkling clean house!

BIG, totally inadequate thanks to Vivian LeMaster, who is probably doing more than even I realize behind the scenes, keeping things organized.

Thanks to all of you for your words of support, and your steady prayers and love.

Thanks to God, for my life, for the wonderful people in my life, and for His strength and peace. He is going before us every step of the way, leading us where He wants us to be.

Thank you,
Laura

Thursday, August 08, 2002 at 07:18 AM (CDT)

August 8, 2002


Yesterday was another great day of God showing us his blessings. I have been feeling great, and been able to go to work every day this week (even if only ½ days).

We attended a prayer/healing session with a Charismatic Catholic group that Laura’s godmother Kathy Tortorice is a member of at Our Lady of Sorrows Church. It was a very moving experience that certainly helped strengthen our faith. In yet another strange twist that constantly shows you how small the world really is, the group is led by Olga Coburn, a wonderful teacher from my high school years at John Carroll.

We had a “Big” Family night dinner at Sittie’s (my mothers’) house. As much of our Kassouf/Kimes clan that could attend, did. A great meal cooked by my brother Paul, the priest. Which by the way, I am still looking for that great deal you are supposed to get by having a priest in the family. So far, he can successfully shame Hispanic cooks at restaurants into preparing our grandfather’s meals the way he prefers. Given all that our grandparents have done for the family throughout our lives, I am thankful that at least that much gets done.

To my uncles, David and Gerard Kassouf, thank you for the overly generous, permanent loan of a new laptop, as mine is not portable because of battery problems. At the rate I am going, I will need corporate sponsor logo patches on my hats, and jackets.

To my grandmother, Naomi Kassouf who expressed to me how much I have meant and done for her, all of my fondest memories are touched by her. She showed me how big families are supposed to love and support each other. Eating kibbie right out of the grinder on her countertop as a toddler, having Sunday lunch for the whole family every Sunday, indulging her grandkids up to the point of needing to lower the boom on us to make sure we weren’t being spoiled. Also, don’t forget, “The man may be the head of the household, but the woman is the neck, and she can turn the head any way she wants.” Remember, God did not do this to me, but He will give us our miracle to take away the cancer. No matter what, you have my children’s weddings to dance at.

To my grandfather, L. Paul Kassouf who has been a rock of constant strength for our family, a source of pride for me, and an example of how to conduct myself in all things. I have always appreciated your advice, even when on notable times, I have ignored it, always to my detriment. Thank you for all you have done, and continue to do for me and my family. And as much as I love to bring up the one beating you ever gave me, I know I deserved it, and have profited from it all my life.

OK, I am supposed to be getting ready to go to work, and I think I have done enough cathartic crying for today.

Monday, August 05, 2002 at 11:04 PM (CDT)

August 5, 2002

“Another Glorious Day in the Corp. Every Meal is a Banquet, Every Paycheck is a Fortune, Every Formation is a Parade.”

I woke up this morning feeling tired. Go figure, a vacation that was not particularly fun or restful, a full day of traveling, and not enough sleep. Who needs a brain tumor.

OK. Don’t worry, I am not feeling sorry for myself. In fact I am at peace. I had a great start to my day with a Chi-Kung session that left me really energized. Took some time to review more doctor opinions, and speak to another extremely helpful and personable doctor, Amar Gajjar from St. Jude’s who helped us understand in layman’s terms some of the conflicting information we have been receiving. We are confident that all that can be done medically is going to be done for us here at UAB with Dr. Burt Nabors. And in Birmingham, we can remain surrounded by our incredible support group of family and friends.

We have scheduled the start of radiation and chemotherapy for this Thursday, August 8th, 2002. We have checked into every other option that has been offered. We believe that this is the best course of action to maintain quality and quantity of life.

That being said, it bears repeating that the only way I am going to win against this cancer is by having God heal me. I do believe that God will do that through a variety of methods, and I will not exclude any of them. But if you read the medical literature, which we have, and frequently regret, there is no medical hope short of a miracle. Which as Laura points out to me daily is fitting and just for me. Anyone who knows me, knows that my faith in God is not something that I have spent much of my time proclaiming. As He heals me, I will have no choice but to give the credit to Him.

I spent some time at work today, which makes me feel almost normal again. I will spend more time at work tomorrow, hammering out the details.

Love your families and get your priorities straight before God slaps you upside the head to set you straight.

Gerry Kimes

PS – Thanks God. :-)

Saturday, August 03, 2002 at 09:45 PM (CDT)

Dear friends and family,

Tonight's topic may seem a little strange to some of you. It's such a paradox to me, but we have realized so many blessings from our situation, and I'd like to share some with all of you.

When we first learned of Gerry's diagnosis, we were devastated. But after a day or so, we began to see blessings all around us in a way we never had before. One of the first things we realized was that we have had 17 amazing and wonderful years together. We don't regret a single second of it, nor would we do anything differently. We are proud that we married right after college, didn't waste much time before beginning our family, and have always put family first. Gerry has never been the kind of man to work 60 hours a week, and more than once, we have soul searched and made career choices together that have reflected our priorities. He has never had a job that kept him travelling frequently, and we have stayed here in Birmingham where our extended families could be an integral part of our everday lives and those of our children. Our realtionship has always been rock solid, and only contiues to grow stronger every day. Some people live to be 85 and can't say that. Some people look back on their lives with regrets - they realize too late that their priorities were out of line. I pray that doesn't happen to any of you. Put God and family first, and God will take care of all the rest.

We also feel blessed to know, while we are alive, how many people love us and are willing to help us and pray for us. The greatest blessing in that is that we are able to say thank you, and we love you, too. When our circumstances have improved, we look forward to taking the time to express our gratitude to you personally.

We have the tremendous blessing of focus. We fell like we have always lived our lives to the fullest, and haven't gotten too bogged down in "sweating the small stuff," to quote an overused phrase. Now, though, we are so focused on the things that are important and so free to let everything else go. Some of that is due to the efforts of some of you. You are taking care of meals, housework, etc. so that we can focus on each other. Beyond that kind of thing, though, we no longer get aggravated by daily annoyances like traffic. We are free to say, "That just doesn't matter." Body image, posessions, petty concerns, - none of it matters anymore. That is a gift I also wish for you.

What a gift we have to wake up each day together. All any of us has is today, and we have been reminded of that in a very stark way. We hope that our awakening is yours, also. Know in your mind and in your heart, down to every last cell, what a blessing it is to wake up each day amidst the people you love. Cherish those people and don't waste any time in telling them that you do. Those of you who know me (Laura) well, know that I do tend to tell people how I feel. I got a wake up call to do that when a dear former teacher of mine died, and I realized I had never taken the time to go back to my high school, where she still taught, and tell her what a difference she'd made in my life. I started at her funeral, to tell people what they mean to me.

We have the blessing of God's peace. We do not give up the joy of today for fear or dread of tomorrow. We don't have room in our hearts for those kinds of negative emotions. When fear or dread or sadness threatens to overwhelm us, we remind ourselves not to give up our joy. Like I said, all we have is today, so why would we waste it?

There are a million other large and small blessings that we see each day - in gifts people give us, the overwhelming generosity of Gerry's employers and of our many friends and loved ones, in little serendipities that occur for us constantly, in the words you write to us on cards and on this website, in the way our path to treatment has been smoothed, - in all, too many gifts and blessings to enumerate.

We pray, as a family, each day, that God abundantly blesses all of you who are being such a blessing to us. Share the gifts our situation is giving us. Take them home to your families. Love God. Love each other. Everything else is extraneous.

Thank you.

Laura

Thursday, August 01, 2002 at 10:35 PM (CDT)

Hi everyone! We haven't disappeared; we've merely relocated for the weekend.

We are in Minneapolis for a church convention trip that we had already planned, and saw no reason to miss. We are as far along as we can get right now in pursuing treatment, so we're having a fun family vacation while staying in contact with you guys and also a large portion of the national medical community through the miracles of modern technology.

That being said, I'm sure you're wondering what the latest news is. We have spoken with Dr. Freidman at Duke for a second time, and while he concurs on the diagnosis of gliomatosis cerebri, he disagrees with the treatment approach. On Tuesday we had another appointment with the radiation oncologist (RO) at UAB, and we virtually grilled him about the differences in treatment plans. We felt we had our questions answered and decided to continue along our path toward treatment at UAB.

However, we already had things rolling to send Gerry's info to a doc at Memorial Sloan Kettering in NY, so we did that in order to get a third opinion. (Special thanks to Priscilla for pulling strings!) We hope to hear from them by email, however, we are having some technical difficulties in accessing our email from here. Meanwhile, back at the ranch, a wonderful friend was working overtime to pull strings at the City of Hope in California. (Thanks, Hank!) As luck would have it, their tumor board only meets once a month, and that is tomorrow!

Well, many times already in this interesting little journey, God has smoothed the way for us and put people in our path at precise moments, and we assume this is another one of those times. We happen to have all of our records with us, including the MRI's which were scanned onto CD for us by another of God's little providentially placed people. (Which reminds me, if you ever need any photo work done - scanning old photos, dealing with digital stuff, etc., please go see our new friend David at Choice Pro-Lab in Homewood!) So we have burned the midnight oil and put the concierge desk to work for us tonight and we got everything sent to City of Hope in time for tumor board tomorrow.

We are anxious to see what they say, because we are certain that God is taking the lead in all this. It could be that everyone agrees on the diagnosis and treatment, and we are solidified in our decision to be at UAB. On the other hand, Sloan Kettering or City of Hope may have something to say that is intriguing enough to send us travelling to hear them out. Or perhaps we are being led to people who will have protocols to help us two years from now, and we will know about it because we have been in touch already. Who knows?

Gerry is still feeling well. We all tire easily these days, and I guess that is just stress. We had a good time at the Mall of America today, taking the boys on Amusement park rides inside the mall and eating at the Rainforest Cafe. We also went under the mall to the aquarium, where we saw turtles, all kinds of fish, and lots of sharks. The boys were especially thrilled to be able to stand at a tank and touch stingrays and sharks as they swam. They did that for at least 45 minutes. I told Gerry we need a tank like that at home if it keeps them that occupied! (Zak agreed wholeheartedly!)

Anyway, before I ramble my way out of any more sleep, let me say yet again how very grateful we are for all your support and prayers. You uplift us daily and help us to keep putting one foot in front of the other on this journey. Never in my life have I said "thank you" so many times and yet felt it to be so inadequate. Words don't fully express what you all mean to us and how touched we are when we read your messages. When I feel weak, I come to this site to feel God's love reaching out to us through you.

Again, thank you.

Laura

Tuesday, July 30, 2002 at 07:21 AM (CDT)

I woke up this morning at 5am, feeling calm, and physically great.

We have had another couple of whirlwind/confusing days. Everyone we have spoken to have been very supportive.

We spoke very briefly, on Monday July 29, with Dr. Henry Friedman from Duke who has been reviewing our case. He was not happy with the results of his pathology report and apologized that he would sort it today and call us back. I quickly gave him the diagnosis from UAB of Gliomatosis Cerebri. He said that he would probably end up concurring with this diagnosis. But as a parting shot, he said that he would not use radiation. Which is 100% opposite of UAB’s suggested protocol.

As Laura likes to say, I am such an overachiever that I can’t have a normal brain tumor. So, I am causing confusion just even for the diagnosis.

Laura stopped by the house of Susan Forehand, one of her dear friends through Creative Memories. Her wisdom is causing us an incredible sense of peace in God’s will. As Susan said, ‘If God wants you to be a miracle to witness to Him, He is not going to make it easy for the doctors to sort out.’ Through everything that we are doing, we know that God works through all avenues, medicine, prayer, healing touch, Tai Chi, Chi-Kung, visualization. Everyone, please keep up with your prayers for me, and even more important, find your connection to God, and spend time with your family.

There are too many people for me to thank in this entry, but some that really stand out:

Jim Herritt and Carlo Joseph, owners of V and W Supply Co., Inc. who are continuing to support our family, even though I am less than part time right now. Don’t forget all of the employees who prove everyday that we are Equal Opportunity Employers. If you need plumbing fixtures, please support those who support us http://www.vwsupply.com.

My Sifu (See-Foo/Master), John Bright-Fey at the Blue Dragon Academy in Hoover. He has taught me so much since I began to study Kung-Fu, Tai-Chi and Chi-Kung with him in October 2001. What I have learned has been invaluable in this experience. He continues to work with me privately as well as in classes to increase my body energy and fight the cancer. If you have any interest, visit the web site at http://www.newforestway.com. If you are curious, e-mail me or call, I will be happy to share my experiences.

Dr. Stasi Bara my chiropractor who helped me heal a 15 year old injury in May 2001. In the process, giving me increased vitality, health and sense of well being. I am visiting him regularly. He is a network chiropractor, which he can explain much better than I can, but in my layman terms, he does not crack and pop your spine or joints. But I can attest to his abilities. http://www.barachiropractic.com.

Certainly not least, Spike and Vivian LeMaster, our friends from high school who we moved next door to 5 years ago, and rekindled a wonderful friendship. When they are not spending themselves further into a hole to help us, they are organizing people to finish our kid’s playfort, and clean our house.

May God bless every hand that is reaching out to our family.

-Gerry

Wednesday, July 24, 2002 at 07:15 AM (CDT)

I am doing ok, no loss of function. Still sorting out the diagnosis. Some type of Astrocytoma, which is a primary brain tumor. Mine is very diffused throughout the right side of my brain, and appears to be spreading to the left.

It all started with a severe headache on July 3. I was nauseous, but just slept it off. The next Wednesday, July 10, I got another severe migraine right after lunch, and my vision tunneled. That time was the first time I knew it was a migraine. I went to my primary doctor, they gave me a shot of Imitrex which fixed me up. Gave me samples and a script and said come back if they get more severe or often.

We started to look for a Neurologist to visit. At the same time I was looking for triggers in activities or foods. On Wednesday July 17, 2002, I had another migraine, for which I took Maxalt which was prescribed to me by the primary doctor. I also went into my good friend Dr. Frank LaRussa for an eye exam about 2 hours after the migraine. He did a thorough exam, found nothing wrong, and very interestingly I was not light sensitive to the exam.

Laura found a friend whose husband is a neurologist at Carraway, who saw us on Thursday the 18th, 11:20am. Dr. John Brockington did a Neuro exam, said you're fine, gave me some samples of Imitrex, and a script. He said it is unusual to start migraines at 33 years old with no prior history, so he scheduled me for an MRI, MRA right then, to rule out a mass or anurism. He said he would call us back in a couple of days once he reviewed the films.

Once I finished the MRI, the tech handed me my films and told be to take them right back to Dr. Brockington. Dr. Brockington explained the results and admitted me immediately to Carraway for a Stereotactic biopsy. The biopsy was performed on Friday, and I spent Friday night and Saturday morning in the Neuro ICU. Dr. Evan Zeiger, the Neuro-Surgeon was wonderful as was the entire staff at Carraway. Given what we were going through, the staff could not have been more supportive.

While in the Neuro ICU, I was labeled “Belligerent” which at the time I thought was humorous on the part of the nurses. Laura was only able to visit me for 15min every 4 hours. She said that my personality was altered, and she was scared. The nurses explained that it was the anti-seizure drugs and steroids. I thought that if you could respond to the nurses in the Neuro ICU, you were belligerent, because the other choice as obviously comatose.

By Saturday morning, I was not quite as manic or belligerent, although I can highly recommend the chicken broth on the clear liquid diet tray, which according to Laura, I was selling it to anyone and everyone at the top of my lungs.

I was released on Saturday, at about 2pm. Another of Laura’s friends, upon hearing of our situation told us that her husband is a Neuro-oncologist at UAB, Dr. Bert Nabors. Dr. Nabors met with us on Sunday morning to go over our copies of the MRI films to explain what we were looking at. We had a day of denial on Sunday, thanks in large part to the help of my parents and all of our friends. We ate late lunch and saw My Big Fat Greek Wedding, a wonderful movie, everyone should see it.

We met with Dr. Evan Yielding, the oncologist at Carraway on Monday the 22nd. We were told that the pathology report listed my tumor as a grade 2 astrocytoma, which is a primary brain tumor with no linked causes. He said that the prognosis is not good, but that we will fight through it. He forwarded all of my information to Dr. Friedman at Duke University, for his opinion.

We then had a clinic meeting with Dr. Nabors at UAB. He feels like my problem is a case called a gliomatosis cerebri, which is an astrocytoma, but a very heavily spread and growing type. Dr. Nabors is having the UAB Neuro-pathologists review the biopsy and we are trying to formulate our treatment options. Because I am young and retain 100% functionality to date, the prospects are good.

Not to mention my wonderful wife and three beautiful boys as motivation, I will make it through this.

The outpouring of love, support, affection, and help from everyone is absolutely overwhelming. Laura and I don’t feel worthy, but we take it as a blessing and are using the support to help us concentrate on getting better and keeping our family intact in the love of God.

-Gerry (The Hammer, AKA Tumor Boy)

Monday, July 29, 2002 at 12:54 PM (CDT)

Dear friends and family,

For those of you who are new to our situation, here it is.

Gerry had a series of bad headaches which led us, over the course of a couple of weeks, to see a neurologist named John Brockington. He checked Gerry out and thought he looked perfectly fine, was ready to give a diagnosis of migraines, but also wanted an MRI just to set all of us at ease. If only.

The MRI showed a large mass in his right frontal and parietal lobes, and crossing over to the left frontal lobe as well. He was admitted to Carraway, which has a very renowned neurosurgery department, and Dr. Evan Zeiger performed a biopsy the following day. The biopsy was Friday, July 19th. On Monday, we were given the news that his tumor is called an astrosytoma, which is malignant, and very deadly.

On Tuesday the 23rd, we saw Dr. Burt Nabors, a neurooncologist at UAB, who confirmed that he thought we were up against incredible odds, and he suggested a treatment plan. His plan includes radiation with chemotherapy, followed by a higher dose of chemotherapy.

We are currently getting other opinions of our case from all over, but are leaning toward staying at UAB for treatment. So far, it seems that this is our only treatment option to prolong his life while maintaining the quality he now enjoys for as long as possible.

All of that being said, we believe in miracles and are praying and working daily to get one. We do not intend to give up or succumb to statistics, because each person is different and each tumor is different. Gerry is very stubborn and very strong and otherwise very healthy. We will fight, and fight hard. He has everything to live for, and everything going for him except this pesky little thing called brain cancer.

We are carried daily by your prayers and kindnesses, and we are overwhelmed and humbled by the outpouring of support we are receiving. At 7:30 every morning, a group of people prays for Gerry and visualizes him healed. If you feel called to add your prayer and visualization to that, then please do so at 7:30am each day.

If you are wondering if there is anything else to do, my sweet friend and neighbor, Vivian LeMaster is handling a list for me. If you email us, we can give you her telephone number privately. Our children would probably love to get cards or letters from you. They love to get mail. They are doing well with all of this. We have told them that Daddy has a tumor and that we are going to do everything we can to make him better. They have asked a few questions, but not the biggie, so we haven't gone there with them. We don't want to scare them to death or take all the joy out of our todays for fear of tomorrow. So that's where we stand.

We will update this site often, as new information is available.

Thank you again for your support,

Laura and Gerry

Sunday, July 28, 2002 at 04:31 PM (CDT)

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