History

The beauty of the world has
two edges, one of laughter,
one of anguish, cutting the
heart asunder.
--Virginia Woolf

I feel often that my world is in two pieces.
The joy and the sorrow.
The before and the after.
The part you see and the part I hide.

It has been three years without Dave.
I have nothing new to say about that.
It is as it always was.

A stretch of lonely forever that has no end.
And at the same time,
the blink of an eye.

Dreams die hard and you hold them in your hands long after they've turned to dust.
-- Dragonheart.

And so I do.
Hold those dreams.
Hold this dust.

Coming home from Chicago,
I couldn't wait to get home.

To tell Dave all about it.
There was a part of me
that really believed,
really believed,
that he would be there,
waiting for us,
ready to hear the stories,
smiling, laughing.

And the emptiness of our house
turned my heart to dust.
I was so sure,
so sure.

When you are sorrowful look again in your heart, and you shall see that in truth you are weeping for that which has been your delight.--Kahlil Gibran

I sit under a weeping willow often.
The long fronds sweep the ground,
creating a new world
under its umbrella.
I sit in my Haroldson chair.

I think.
I do weep.
I delight.

But mostly I argue.
Still.

The Shack touched me deeply,
because the grieving father
who was so angry with God
is so like me.

I don't doubt His presence.
Or His love.
Or His power.
Or even His wisdom
most of the time.

I just think He was wrong.
Wrong.

Many folks want to serve God, but only as advisers.
-- Unknown.

And that would be me.
I still think I know better.

There is an image in The Shack
of the man
working with
the Holy Spirit
clearing
this ugly,
overgrown place
in a garden.
The work is hard.
The thorns sting.
He bleeds.

And of course,
it turns out,
he's helping the
Holy Spirit
prepare his own heart.

To love again,
to forgive.

I think about that a lot.

�The walls we build around us to keep sadness out also keeps out the joy.�--Jim Rohn

And I know that by living with
this sadness,
I am also able to keep
the joy,
the joy that was Dave.
I can no longer have
one without
the other.

I have said many times that grief
is but a mirror,
a reflection.
The depth of our grief
is matched by the
depth of our love.

But we should not be afraid to love,
or to love again,
just because we might
experience pain,
pain again.

�One cannot be deeply responsive to the world without being saddened very often.�--Erich Fromm

And that's what Dave brought.
His absolute joy
at being alive,
his complete fearlessness
in love,
his way of giving his all,
every time.

Whether he was saying hello
or goodbye,
giving a hug
or telling a story.
In love and in life,
Dave
was 100�R>all the time.
Unafraid.

Unafraid of the future,
of being hurt,
of being a fool.

Knowing that regret
over inaction
out of fear,
is hardest to live with,
he would choose to
risk
and give
the big hug,
the shining smile,
the heartfelt song.

God will not look you over for medals, degrees, or diplomas, but for scars.--Elbert Hubbard.

And sometimes,
we get hurt.
Or rejected.
Or feel foolish.

And even when we don't,
we risk loss and
heartbreak.

We are scarred
in this life.

I am scarred.

But I live.
And love.

And explore the journey
that is this life,
what is left to me,
for now.

Remembering
I am not home yet.
There is much for me to do here.

Not Home Yet lyrics

To all the travelers
Pilgrims longing for a home
From one who walks with you
On the journey called life's road
It is a long and winding road
From one who's seen the view
And dreams of staying on the mountain high
And one one who's cried like you
Wanting to much just to lay down and die
I offer this, we must remember this
We are not home yet
We are not home yet
Keep on looking ahead
Let your heart not forget
We are not home yet
Not home yet
So close your eyes with me
And hear the Father saying "welcome home"
Let us find the strength
In all His promises to carry on
He said, "I go prepare a place for you"
So let us not forget
We are not home yet
We are not home yet
Keep on looking ahead
Let your heart not forget
We are not home yet
Not home yet
I know there'll be a moment
I know there'll be a place
Where we will see our Saviour
And full in His embrace
So let us not grow weary
Or too content to stay
Cause we are not home yet
We are not home yet
Not home yet
So let us journey on
We are not home yet
We are not home yet
So keep on looking ahead
Let your heart not forget
We are not home yet

Not home yet

Not Home Yet lyrics - Steven Curtis Chapman lyrics

Not Home Yet Video - Steven Curtis Chapman Music Videos

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Sunday, December 2, 2007 8:28 AM CST

Finally figured out how to get the slide show from Dave's memorial service on here! Thanks again and again to Jeffrey Townsend.

Make video montages at www.OneTrueMedia.com

Thursday, August 23, 2007 8:39 AM CDT

It's today.
August 23rd.
Two years.
Two achingly long years.
Two blink-of-an-eye years.

It's different this year.
Not better.
But different.

The blistering heat of August is absent.
The mornings are cool and misty.
The evenings have a nip of September.

Football has started.
Even that seems different.
More subdued, less intense somehow.

Like Kathy said,
I'm learning to move around this awkward piece of furniture that somehow arrived in my life. It's still there. Always will be. But I don't have to slam my shin into it continually just to prove that I can still feel something.

Grief is like a burden.
One we always carry.
We don't get to put it down,
but with time,
we learn better how to hold it.

Grief in the beginning is like being torn open.
Your heart is raw and exposed.
Even kindness burns.
But somehow, some day,
you begin to knit yourself
back together,
into something that resembles
a person,
whole,
in one piece.

To do that,
I've had to weave this
missing of Dave
into the fabric of my being.

The scar it leaves is part
of who I am now.

The last two years
meant learning to live in
an alien world.
It's a landscape that exists in my heart.
It's impossible to explain.
Some call it a wasteland,
a vacant lot,
like being consumed with fever,
only cold,
so cold.

For me,
it was a lot like drowning.
Surrounded by water.
Learning how to breathe again.
Without Dave,
I didn't know how to breathe,
how to be alive
without him.

So one step at a time,
I breathed in,
brought the icy waters
into myself.
And breathed out,
indigo ink,
no oxygen,
no relief,
no life.

While I wasn't dead,
I didn't recognize myself.
I stood looking in the mirror,
hand outstretched
to trace the jawline
of the stranger
who looked back.
"Who are you?"
"I am you. I am not you."

I'm reading a book called, "Everything happens for a reason." I bought it because I wanted to argue with it. I wanted to fight with it. I wanted to find what I believe.

Tall order, it seems.

Does everything happen for a reason?
I guess I don't know everything.
Yet.
I also guess
like everything else,
it depends on what you mean by reason.

Reason:
justification
basis
excuse
explanation
logic
motive
sanity
sense
judgement

The word reason is both rational and rationale.
It's comforting to think that our world makes sense. That things happen in accordance with a master plan of some sort, that events are not random and senseless, that Someone is in control, that what happens to us has meaning.

That becomes harder when it hits closer to home. When addressing an event in someone's life that is painful, these ideas start to sound a little trite. "It's all for the best." Someone actually said to me, "Just think how Dave's death will be an example of living in Christ to so many." To which I could only think...."And him LIVING in Christ wasn't a good example?" See what I mean? Globally, it tends to work, personally, it kinda falls apart for me. Like the card Mindy got me today..."Do you ever feel like your guardian angel just went out for a smoke?" Yeah, actually, sometimes I do.

But mostly not. And even in the hardest of things, there is meaning to be found. Let me give you an example. 18 years ago, for 25 days, Dave and I were lucky enough to be parents to Kyle Douglas. 25 magical, beautiful, spiritual days. And then Kyle died and we were plunged into that netherworld of grief, that place where you must not only confront death, but make friends with it, and walk hand-in-hand with the fact of earthly death.

Sidebar: Of course, there is eternal life and everlasting hope in Jesus, but I'm talking this side of heaven, which is all I can really speak to. There is solace in the eternal, but it does NOT, NOT erase the pain of the temporary.

When Kyle died, I had a lot of people offer me reasons. "Oh, he was spared so much suffering, all those operations he would have had to have." "It's for the best." "You'll have another." "You're young." "Be glad you only had him 25 days, that way you didn't have a chance to get too attached." Sigh.

No reason could suffice. Ever. Ever.

Does that mean Kyle's death was meaningless? Not at all. When Kenny was diagnosed with autism, and we were walking like zombies through a grief that had no definition, no certainty and no closure, when Kenny screamed for hours at a time or laughed at things that weren't there or stayed up night after night...I remember feeling so overwhelmed with gratitude. Yes, gratitude. Never once did I look at that child, that little boy with the blonde curls and the kaliedescope eyes, and think, "Why me?!" Every day, every single day, when we woke in the morning, light streaming in the window, I would put my hand on his little chest and feel that heart beating so solidly. I knew it could be worse. Far worse.

Meaning, yes.
Reason....not so much.

I search for meaning, for reason in Dave's death.
I find much in his life.
In his courage as a cancer survivor.
In his character as a teacher.
In his enthusiasm as a coach.
In his passion as a musician.
In his loyalty as a friend.
In his humility as a servant of God.
In his honor as a son.
In his caring as a brother.
In his humor as an uncle.
In his love as a husband.
In his tenderness as a father.

I have yet to find anything that might be considered better because of his death. Anything that gives reason.
Not A reason, but reason, sense, justice.

Meaning...well...I'm trying.
I know that Dave's death was not meaningless.
I know that his death impacted many people.
I believe that there are far more ripples from this rock than I will ever know about.

Because some have been kind enough to share how the ripples in the water touched them, there are things I do know. I know that there are women who, because of Dave's death, because they heard my anguish, stopped themselves from sniping at their husband because he left a wet towel on the floor or put the diaper on backwards or bought the wrong kind of tomatoes. That instead, they took a breath and realized that they were blessed to have him still here, still breathing.

I know that there were people who were afraid to show their feelings for fear of being thought weak, who learned through Dave's example what true strength and courage looked like, and how God shines though our weakness.

I know that there were people unable to reach out and make meaningful connections with the people that they loved most, who watched Dave and I and realized that the depth of our hurt is but a reflection of the depth of our love...mirror images...two sides of the same coin...and that you must risk in order to love, but that love is worth any price...and guarding your heart is lonely. That love is not a feeling, it's a decision.

I know that there were people who were afraid of death, who learned, like the 14 year old narrator in "The Secret Life of Bees" that "anyone who thinks dying is the worst thing don't know much about life," and took courage from the light shining through Dave, even...and maybe especially...at the end.

I know that there were people with no spiritual beliefs who saw Dave's death and longed for the certainty and serenity he showed. I also know there were people with strong beliefs whose faith was shaken to the core by Dave's death and confronted questions they didn't know weren't answered.

I know that there were people who learned how to listen, how to fully be there and how to say something when they didn't know what to say. That reaching out matters.

I know that there were people who learned how to humbly accept help and see it as a sign of love, not a sign of weakness.

How to laugh, really laugh, in the worst of times.
How to listen to music with your whole heart.
How to talk with no words.
How to make a game out of washing dishes.
How to Dave-hug...or at least close.
How to cheer for their team.
How to smile with their eyes.
That hope sustains.
That love never dies.

And I know I learned more than all of these people combined.
Thank you for that, Dave.
And for everything else.

I love you always, Shell

AND PS. It would STILL be better if you were here.

We went to the Rock today.
24 white roses.
One for each month
we have lived
without Dave here.
730 days we have
gotten out of bed,
taken one step forward,
kept breathing.

Thank you to those who sent their thoughts today...
Bryan Stroud & family...always faithful.
Dee, always Dee.
Tami...hugs back.
Alex... :-).
Mom who called...and is coming!
My sis, who's loaning me her kids.
DadBob & JudyMom who brought flowers and hugs.
Mindy who brought coffee and kids and love.
Bob who called.
And Cindy.
Ginger from across the country
and Missy from across town.
Kathy from Iowa, Jacob's mum who signed on CaringBridge.
Kara, living without Butch.
Cathy, city mouse, who sent a card.
Mike, who just crossed two years without his daughter.
Will & crew, whose words touched my heart in a way I can't explain.
Sue, the first to remember and sent:

"From the wings of a darkened night, small lights of hope are born."

Friday, August 18, 2006 3:21 AM CDT

This is not nearly as polished as the slideshow that Jeffery Townsend made for Dave's service, but it does have Dave singing!

Magic Penny, written and performed by Dave Meyer
Melt with You, performed by The Currents, Dave lead vocals
Don't You Know That I Hear?, written and performed by Erik Haroldson, for Dave
Growing Older With You, written and performed by Dave Meyer for Shell
Friends, performed by Dave Meyer and Erik Haroldson

Create your own video for free at www.onetruemedia.com

You can see in the pictures much of what we miss.
You can hear in the songs.

I miss his smile. Yes, Kathie, Dave was always smiling. He was happy at heart, always. No matter how difficult things got, Dave saw the glass as half full. Even more, he'd be likely to say, "Look, how thoughtful, they left me room for more." He was the kind of person who made the best of everything. Some of you know about his TGIM campaign... Thank God It's Monday! Dave was appreciative of life. He was grateful and hopeful. Never once, during his entire journey with cancer did he say, "Why me?" Not once. When he first found out it was cancer, true to form, Dave said, "There are kids (students) who will have a hard time with this, I need to pray for them." Then: "Get me out of here, the hospital is for sick people." When I look at all the pictures, you can see Dave's love for the people around him. Pictures of him smiling directly at the camera are pretty rare. In most pictures, you can see him looking at the faces of the people he loves, smiling at them. And so handsome...my heart still leaps when I see him.

I miss the sounds of him. His voice, so resonant, so pure. Dave singing, all the time. The strumming of his guitar. Dave humming as he worked. Music everywhere, all the time, in the car, in the house, in the yard, on the field. I miss his laughter. He was always laughing, finding delight in everything, reminding me to not take things so seriously. "Lighten up, Francis!" he'd say. He made everything fun. And the stories...Dave always had a story. Students called his classes "DAVE 101" because they'd learn so much about him. He shared his life, his faith, his music, his love with anyone who'd care to listen.

I miss his walk. Zach walks like him, one foot slightly turned in, which gives a bounce to his step. It was a happy walk. Kate would say, "I could always tell he was coming by the jingle of his keys." And Dave often didn't walk. He'd jog, jump, shuffle, dance. His eyes would twinkle, and he'd twirl me around in grocery store aisles and other odd places.

I miss his touch. Dave was a hugger. He used to tell the neighborhood kids, "Can't go by without a hug!" He hugged everyone. And he hugged like he meant it. Warm, huge, engulfing embraces. He was a snuggler. Backrubs, footrubs, brushing my hair. He used to drive Denise crazy.

I miss his thoughts. He was a talker, too. We could spend hours talking about a little league game or a book we'd read or the meaning of a song or sharing memories or God or autism or anything. Dave was incredibly intelligent and insightful. He was interested and interesting.

I miss his example. Switchfoot's song asks, "Are you who you want to be?" And I often fall short. I am easily angered, I am selfish, I am impatient, I am quick to judge and slow to forgive. Dave was none of these things. He saw everything through a prism of love. He had a strength of character, a conviction that held him above the petty level most of us operate on. His students sensed it. The love and respect he had for them as people above all else, and they responded to that. There was something extraordinary about Dave. People were drawn to him and he changed their lives, just by being Dave.

I miss his silliness. He was a goofball. Goofy. Joking, laughing, making up games.

I miss how his eyes would go soft when he held a baby.

I miss how his little Toyota used to rumble up the driveway.

I miss how he would set out my contact case and my toothbrush when I was up late on the computer.

I miss how he changed the oil in my car.

I miss looking at pictures with him and saying, "Remember that?"

I miss how excited he'd get when I made his lunch for him.

I miss his smile at ballgames, that look in his eye..."That's my boy!"

I miss seeing him coach, encouraging, guiding, teaching, excited and enthusiastic.

I miss his creativity...songs, poems, drawings.

I miss the little notes he left in odd places for me.

I miss dancing with him.

I miss seeing him read his Bible and pray every morning.

I miss seeing his face as he listened to music, especially music from Erik, Mark, Will.

I miss seeing his eyes light up when he saw the kids.

I miss holding hands with him. And how he's always start singing the Beatles, "I Wanna Hold Your Hand..."

I miss sneaking into the kids' rooms at night, leaning on Dave, listening to them breathe.

I miss....everything. I miss....him.

A Year Without Dave - In Pictures

Friday, August 18, 2006 3:21 AM CDT

Create your own video for free at www.onetruemedia.com

Sunday, June 4, 2006 11:48 PM CDT

I'm working on closing this site. It's time. Time for a change. Maybe a change of luck will follow!

Over the next few days, I'll be refining the front page so that it is more of a memorial page for Dave. The first thing I did was update the links to the Union-Bulletin articles about Dave. They had been retired from the U-B site, so I took my saved copies and linked to them. So if you haven't seen those articles, or got broken links before, check them out above. Got a bit more work to do, then I will then save the front page, the journal history and the guestbook to cd for the kids to have in years to come. I will plan to keep this site open until around the anniversary of Dave's death, which should give occasional visitors a chance to catch up and find us at our new place...

Rest assured, there will still be a cyberhome where you can track the happenings (or mishaps, as the case may be) of Team Meyer. Check out the new blog: The Meyer Family Space

I'll be making the first update with Kate's dance recital. I'm working on getting some pictures and video together to post there tomorrow. She was beyond beautiful, and both brothers were in the audience, a little worse for wear, but on the mend, each giving her a yellow rose after she danced. It was a good night, and I'm holding tight to the belief that it's a corner turned.

Sleep well, all....
Love, Shelley

PS. Our dearest Amanda Biddle made a graduation speech...check out this link: U-B Article on 2006 WaHi Graduation

Friday, June 2, 2006 10:27 PM CDT

WHOO HOOO!

The tests came back. It's just the regular old stupid staph, so Zach got to come home....IN A LIMO!

Thanks to Pete and Kyle!

GOING TO BED IN MY OWN BED!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Friday, June 2, 2006 4:49 PM CDT

Thank you to all the prayer warriors out there, and to all the hordes of lively, hungry teenage boys who boisterously clamor in, ride the bed, eat the chocolate and keep Zach's spirits up.

Reports:
Zach: The surgery went well. The bone is intact and perfect. Hooray! The cultures show that the infection is staph, which is no surprise. We will find out tomorrow if it's a garden variety staph. If so, Z will go home on oral antibiotics. If it's a resistant strain, they will do another surgery and place a PICC line in his arm and he will receive IV antibiotics at home. The line would probably not be able to be placed until Monday, so he'd likely go home Tuesday. We're praying HARD for alternative #1.

Kenny: The labs showed no signs of infection and they have ruled out kidney stones. So, bottom line, they aren't sure what's causing it. The good news is, they are treating it as if it's a topical infection in the penis/urethra, rather than an internal infection in the bladder, so they've put him on antibiotics and a topical antifungal cream. (As a side story, if you've ever tried to give a pill to a cat...triple that and you've got a close picture of what it's like to try to put cream on a 15 year old's owie penis!) Today he says it's much better and that there wasn't any blood in his urine. This is Kenny report, unverified by anyone, since he flushed the toilet...so I'm hoping he's telling it straight, but right now, I think he'd say ANYTHING to get us to leave him the hell alone! He says the pain is better, too. And he didn't fight Grandpa putting on the cream, so we hope we're on the mend. The doc says that it needs some close follow-up, however, even if the antibiotics clear it, because they don't know why it's happening, and while it might be just an odd infection or a fluke, it could also be signs of something serious. He'll see the pediatrician in a week.

Kate: She's hanging in there. Her big dance recital is tomorrow. It's been pretty tough on her. She's been very worried about her brothers, and missing Mom. She was just a wreck on Wednesday. Luckily, my mom got here, and she got to go home to her own house, and that helped hugely, also my mom is great with lots of snuggles and cuddles and came into the house and slept with Kate in the big bed, so that did wonders for her spirits. I think she just needed some emotional filling up, and thankfully, my mom was there to do that job in my absence. I let Kate stay home from school yesterday and stay with me at the hospital. I think that helped, too, and she snuggled some with Zach, too. Although, I have to say, he got progressively crankier as the day wore on. He hadn't eaten since friends brought milkshakes by the evening before and he didn't go into surgery until 4:00...so he went about 20 hours without eating. By about noon, he was arguing with his bed. Sheesh.

He's definitely ready to be home. He's cruising the halls in a wheelchair, trying to see how quickly he can make tight turns, driving nurses crazy and is generally chomping at the bit.

Mom: well, I could be better. I've had a lot of support...Deb, Dee, Alex, Karen, Laura, Mindy, Evy...bringing coffee, food, taking me for walks, checking in, listening. Thanks, guys. Thanks, Huxolls for taking Duke! Thanks to my C-friends, Cathy, Cheri and Claudia keeping the prayers going.

I know there is a bigger emotional storm on the horizon. With all the crisis, I've not had the time or fortitude to even let the reality of Doug's death come to the forefront yet. Once the fallout settles, I know I'll need time to process, to feel, to grieve.

Sleeping okay, eating okay. Many, many flashbacks to when Dave was in the hospital exactly one year ago. Sudden pictures that leave me feeling hollow and empty and surreal. Sounds and smells that bring back the fear in the pit of my stomach. It's been hard for the kids, too. Those memories are right there, so close I can touch them. And it's awful.

Today in Walla Walla, a cleansing rain, rinsing the dust from the air, cutting the heat. It's good. God is good, all the time. We're turning a corner.

Love you all,
Shelley
PS. I wonder how many people out there think I'm either crazy or am making this crap up. This sort of thing doesn't happen to real people does it???? I guess so! For reference, see the shit sandwich entry in the journal history that Kendrie's mom wrote!!!

Thursday, June 1, 2006 10:20 AM CDT

New update from another guest journalist, this one from Claudia, member Team Meyer, Texas branch:

Zach's surgery was delayed until 4 p.m. but the results indicate that there is no infection in the bone. This is a real relief!! Now we just have to wait for the antibiotics to work.

In the meantime, as if we needed more in the lives of our dear Meyers, Michelle is now with Kenny in the ER with pain and blood in his urine. No determination has been made as yet regarding the nature of this problem.

So, please continue to keep this family in your prayers as you have been. I think they all need time off for some foolish hi-jinx, myself!!

Claudia Williams

Well, it's finally happened... Shell's chaotic life has necessitated a guest journalist! Deb Wright here, reporting on Zach's status:

The "bazooka" antibiotics that worked so nicely the first 24 hours stalled enough to make the doctors want to poke around--they lanced the main site yesterday, taking lab samples. It was very painful for Zach, and more than a little scary.

The lab result are back and they aren't good. There is raging infection, bringing back the original concerns about getting this thing resolved before the bone is compromised. They will be doing surgury this morning on the infected area, to remove any diseased tissue and to take a bone scraping for testing.

The surgeon is working around a full schedule, so we don't know what time it will be yet. But your prayers are so very welcome, whenever you can find a moment.

As far as how he's doing emotionally, Zach is indignant that he can't eat breakfast, in a completely normal and healthy 14-year-old manner. :) He's being very brave, determined to be just like his dad.

Michelle is hanging in there. She always says "Do I have a choice?" when I tell her to keep on hanging in there. I guess that pretty much sums it up, doesn't it? Thank you all for your loving support of the Meyer clan... sometimes it's what keeps them going in the face of all their astonishingly bad luck.

-Deb Wright

Wednesday, May 31, 2006 11:16 AM CDT

Well, quick update and then a shower and then back to the hospital.

Thank God for Dr. Bergstrom. He's the best. They started Z on two "bazooka" antibiotics, and his shin redness and swelling went from covering his entire shin to 7x7 cm, so the antibiotics are working. At this point they do not think the infection is in the bone, which is wonderful news! The infection is responding to the antibiotics, and there was a dramatic response the first day. Since then, it's been pretty stable, so they are worried about taking him off the iv antibiotics too soon. They are considering a PICC line so they can do the antibiotics long term. We'll know more today.

My mom is coming! Hooray. Thank you to all who visit Zach, it really lifts his spirits. Thanks to Bob & Judy for taking Kenny & Kate. Thanks to Dee for being there in every way. Thanks to Alex and Deb and Karen...

Our family is experiencing another crisis. Dave's very best friend from college, Doug Andrews...he was the best man at our wedding, our first son Kyle was Kyle Douglas after Doug, he and Dave were born two days apart and for years were inseparable. They called themselves twin sons of different mothers. Doug had broken his neck several years ago in Hawaii and after that struggled with severe and chronic pain. He dropped out of touch, but never from our hearts. Dave often tried to find him and stayed in touch with Doug's mom, Sharon. Doug had just found out about Dave's death. On Sunday, Doug took a stuffed animal to Kyle's grave and committed suicide. I am devastated and heart-broken and wishing I had done something, anything to find him, to reach him. He will be buried next to Kyle in Gig Harbor. My heart aches with this loss, knowing it is the last thing Dave would have wanted. He loved Doug, beyond all reason. Please keep his family in your prayers as we all try to understand and come to grips with this horrible, horrible thing.

I love you all, Shelley

Tuesday, May 30, 2006 1:16 AM CDT

Last Memorial Day, Dave went into the hospital with blood clots in his lungs.

Tonight, Zach has been admitted to the hospital. He has a bone bruise, cellulitis and possible bone infection. It's very serious. They are starting IV antibiotics. Please pray that the antibiotics will work, that he won't have to have surgery or lose any bone in his shin. He is in incredible amounts of pain, please pray for that to be relieved. Pray the antibiotics work quickly. They said it sometimes takes six weeks.

He's so brave. He said, "Don't worry, Mom, I'll be just like Dad and only see the positive."

I'm so scared. Love, Shelley

PS. We're skipping Memorial Day next year.

Tuesday, May 23, 2006 5:33 PM CDT

Please see Kevin Terry's page and leave a prayer message for him and his family. He's been admitted to the hospital, and it seems the end is drawing near.

Cathy now has a blog: Lessons from Lou so you can keep up with her and Sweet Lou.

Another friend, Kara, has a website for her husband, Butch. (LINK IS FIXED...SORRY!) Butch Gamboa Please send that family a prayer or two also.

Thank you to everyone who's dropping off print cartridges. We MUST find a cure.

I cannot believe that yet another family is being torn apart, that four more little ones will have to grow up without their daddy. My heart is breaking.

Love, Shelley

Thursday, May 18, 2006 11:48 PM CDT

Hi everyone,

Just a quick update. I can't believe I'm staring Friday in the face again....we just got back from Vancouver and it's time to pack for Seattle. The good news is the whirlwind is almost over.

Last weekend, Zach's basketball team went to Vancouver to an Oregon Prep basketball tournament, looking for a little competition. Seems that we looked in the wrong place. The boys played incredibly well and swept the tournament, winning their games by an average of 28 points. Amazing! It was fun to see them so on fire! Mom and Dad got to come and see the games, as did my Uncle Art and Cousin Gwen. It was a fabulous time, beautiful weather, a great weekend.

We were pretty tired after that!

Kate is playing softball and having a really good time. Things are gearing up for her dance recital on June 3 at Cordiner Hall, so she's getting excited about that.

Kenny misses track, but is having a good time playing Challenger baseball. He's hitting the ball like crazy, and gone is the wood-chopping batting stance.

Zach's school baseball team finished their season winning most of their games. His select baseball team has been gearing up and had their first game yesterday. They beat Milton-Freewater 21-2. Zach played catcher all 8 innings and was so sweaty! He hit a triple and slid into third base and came up a MUDBALL! Ick. But he had a blast! He hit two triples and a solid single. He is LOVING his coach and feels like he's learning a lot. We'll have tournments pretty much every weekend through July.

Got the boys registered for classes at WaHi. Can you believe I'll have two kids in high school???? Football practice starts in a few weeks and they're excited for that.

Thanks to everyone that bought raffle tickets from Zach:
Kathie Farrens
Judy Peasley
Terri Hampson
Carol Bond
Marc Yonts
Mike Braddock
Ty McEuen
Shannon Ahrens
Bryan Eggart
Val Neiffer
Laura Rau
Kristi Wellington-Baker
Brian Richard
Bob & Judy Meyer
Bob & Mindy Meyer
Alex Falcon
Maribeth Bergstrom
Mimi Mott
and "Help Is On The Way" Debra Wright

And a HUGE HUGE THANK YOU to the two companies that sponsored Zach's playing on this team:

Evergreen Labs: Staci Wanichek, Cassie Rothstrom & Cheryl Corn
and
O'Brien Chevrolet

Amazing support. We are so grateful!

Wish us luck in our Seattle tournament. Win or lose, we win because we get to see Evy, Erik, Canute & Sonja and Mark & Christina!

Love you all,
Shelley

Monday, May 1, 2006 0:45 AM CDT

It's the little things that get you.

Had to buy peanut butter. I only bought creamy peanut butter today. Dave was the only one that liked crunchy peanut butter. The jar with the red lid looked lonely without its blue-lid companion.

And this weekend, working like dogs in the backyard, prepping for the fence. Zach putting on the music, and half-dancing, half-trotting, loping across the yard with that unique bounce in his step and that huge Meyer grin. It's hard to describe, but if you've ever seen Dave feeling just a little silly, you know EXACTLY what I mean.

Thanks Kevin, Debra, Jake and Megan Wright for all your help this weekend. Mimi, Amelia, Alexio, and Alison joined in, too. Wow! It was back-breaking work...that ancient fence was really in there. But we had Kevin, thank heavens. And three delightful teenage boys, ready to prove they were as manly as Kevin. It was miserable and fun, pizza never tasted so good, my muscles are sore, and I can hardly walk, but it was good, soul-cleansing work.

New song for you:

Praise You In This Storm by Casting Crowns

I was sure by now
That You would have reached down
And wiped our tears away
Stepped in and saved the day
But once again, I say "Amen", and it's still raining

As the thunder rolls
I barely hear Your whisper through the rain
"I'm with you"
And as Your mercy falls
I raise my hands and praise the God who gives
And takes away

I'll praise You in this storm
And I will lift my hands
For You are who You are
No matter where I am
Every tear I've cried
You hold in Your hand
You never left my side
And though my heart is torn
I will praise You in this storm

I remember when
I stumbled in the wind
You heard my cry
You raised me up again
My strength is almost gone
How can I carry on
If I can't find You

As the thunder rolls
I barely hear You whisper through the rain
"I'm with you"
And as Your mercy falls
I raise my hands and praise the God who gives
And takes away

I lift my eyes unto the hills
Where does my help come from?
My help comes from the Lord
The Maker of Heaven and Earth

And God sends help, in the form of Deb and crew. Deb wearing a shirt that on the front says, "HELP IS ON THE WAY" and on the back, "HELP IS WALKING OUT THE DOOR" Thank goodness she hasn't walked out!

Love you all,
Shell

PS. Zach's selling raffle tickets to raise money for his baseball team's travelling costs:
First Prize: Mariner's getaway, two box seat tickets behind home plate, two nights lodging in Seattle and #100.00 cash.
Second Prize: Dinner for 2 and one night's lodging at Wildhorse Casino and 2 rounds of golf.
Third prize: $250.00 cash!
Tickets are $10. Let me know if you want one.

Wednesday, April 26, 2006 1:26 AM CDT

Hello, those of you who are still here. I've been struggling, not knowing what to write. Writing over and over in my head, but unable to bring it to paper...or pixels, I guess.

Coming home from Kelso after putting Zach on a plane to DC and Kenny & Kate on a motorhome to Long Beach...I passed milepost 158, just west of Tower Road on Highway 84.

That's where Dave hit ice on December 23, 1996 and wrecked the van. The wreck that started the journey.

We have a tradition of having a moment of silence and a prayer of thanksgiving as we pass this milepost, thinking of so many things....how Dave could have died in the triple roll-over, how my Dad had just fixed the seatbelt, how they might not have discovered the tumor without the wreck...in short, how a car wreck was a gift.

So I turned off the radio and prayed. Or if I'm honest, how I tried to pray. It's been hard lately.

Dave and I used to play the radio game. It's an annoying game of my invention where Dave and I would pick a song, like "I Ran" by Flock of Seagulls or "Leah" by Donny Iris or "Somebody's Baby" by Glenn Frye or "Rock the Casbah" by the Clash...some random song, and then flip through the radio channels til we found it. The rule was, if you could sing along to the song that popped up, you had to listen to it before you skated to the next channel. If you didn't know it, surf away.

So after I left milepost 158, I turned on the radio.
"If You're Gone" by Matchbox Twenty
I think I�m just scared - I think too much
I know this is wrong it�s a problem I�m dealing

If you�re gone - maybe it�s time to go home
There�s an awful lot of breathing room
But I can hardly move
If you�re gone - baby you need to come home
Cuz there�s a little bit of something me
In everything in you

I listen. I cry. I sing along. The song ends, so I hit seek and move to the next song...

"Ain't No Sunshine" by Bill Withers
Ain't no sunshine when she's gone
It's not warm when she's away
Ain't no sunshine when she's gone
and she's always gone too long
Anytime she goes away

Wonder this time where she's gone
Wonder if she's gonna stay
Ain't no sunshine when she's gone
and this house just ain't no home
anytime she goes away

And I know, I know...

Ain't no sunshine when she's gone
Ain't no sunshine when she's gone
Only darkness everyday
Ain't no sunshine when she's gone
and this house just ain't no home
anytime she goes away

So I cry. And scream a little. I'm alone in my car, except for Duke, who doesn't seem to mind that the lady at the wheel is descending into madness before his eyes. He sighs a little and snuggles in to sleep a little more.

I think about that poem....
There are lots of versions, here is one:
Cancer is so limited.
It cannot cripple love.
It cannot shatter hope.
It cannot corrode faith.
It cannot destroy peace.
It cannot kill friendship.
It cannot suppress memories.
It cannot silence courage.
It cannot invade the soul.
It cannot steal eternal life.
It cannot conquer the spirit.

Limited? It has changed my entire life. Every moment, from August 23, 2005 on. No...from December 23, 1996 on. Every moment.

Can't shatter hope? Tell that to anyone who has had to call hospice, to come to that point of knowing that there is no more battle to wage, that the fight is over.

Can't corrode faith? Tell that to a mother who holds her child down for the thousandth needle stick. How can I not question faith in a God who is allowing my children to grow up without their father?

Peace? Cancer has caused so much strife, so much anguish, so much heartache. Peace is a small, still island in the midst of a hurricane, an island often completely under water. I remember watching footage on the tsunami right after Dave died, thinking that even the oceans were outraged, thinking that the wall of destruction mirrored my inner feelings. And later, feeling so horrified...my one anguish so pales in comparison to the complete and utter devastation experienced by so many, feeling so ashamed for being so wrapped up in my own grief that I couldn't even muster caring about anything else. One cancer wife told me that she had similar thoughts after 9/11...the irrational feeling that maybe the world would finally "get" what it is she was feeling.

Friendship...oh, some are like gold, aren't they? But even the best of us break down, fall short and aren't able to shoulder what we need to sometimes. I don't know a person who has gone through cancer or something similar who hasn't said, "Well, you find out who your real friends are..." We've all had the experience of losing a friend. And we say, maybe they weren't really all that great a friend to begin with. Not always. Like my dad has wisely said, "Some can and some just can't."

Memories? Tell that to Cathy, who sits with Lou, her memories unshared, having to break the news to him, fresh every day, that he has a brain tumor. For me, the memories are divided...my life is divided...before and after.

Courage...I've never been so scared in my life. I've lived in the shadow of fear for 9 years. I live in terror because there is still more I can lose. There doesn't seem to be a quota, a place where one can say, "Well, I paid my dues. Not my turn. Go hit someone else up for it this time."

Yes, it can invade the soul, it can make you doubt everything you ever believed, even eternal life, and our loving Father. My spirit is weary. I look down the road and see no relief, no rest, no renewal.

On a good day, and yes, there are good days still, I can see that most of what I just wrote about has another side, that often the sting is temporary, the pain, the despair coming in waves, waves that will once again recede and allow the sun to shine through.

(And I know some of you sent me that poem, and in many ways, I do like it and draw strength from those ideals, so please don't be offended or hurt by my thoughts here...but I have to honestly wonder if whoever wrote it ever really looked at cancer and the damage it does.)

So I turn the radio channel again, as all this is drifting through my head, and the tears are running down my face, and I hear....

Testify to Love by Avalon
All the colors of the rainbow
All of voices of the wind
Every dream that reaches out
That reaches out to find where love begins
Every word of every story
Every star in every sky
Every corner of creation lives to testify
For as long as I shall live
I will testify to love
I'll be a witness in the silences when words are not enough
With every breath I take I will give thanks to God above
For as long as I shall live
I will testify to love
From the mountains to the valleys
From the rivers to the sea
Every hand that reaches out
Every hand that reaches out to offer peace
Every simple act of mercy
Every step to kingdom come
All the Hope in every heart will speak what love has done

Faith, hope and love,
these three remain,
but the greatest of these is
LOVE.

And although Dave was each of those things, in every way, until his very last breath....he was
HOPE
FAITH
PEACE
FRIENDSHIP
MEMORIES
COURAGE
SPIRIT AND SOUL SURE OF ETERNAL LIFE
he was most of all,
LOVE

And in the end, it's what I still have. Love.
My hold on the others is tenuous at best, but love, this one I have, this one I believe, this one I hold.

Love, Shell

Monday, April 10, 2006 2:53 PM CDT

This week we lost
Clyde Green
Eric Buss
and a man named Gary from our list.

Matt had his surgery for his recurrence, and it appears his tumor is more aggressive now.

Kevin Terry needs your prayers. He's battling confusion and weakness from this disease, trying to rally to start a new chemo.

John Borre is battling blood clots.

Mike Messinger got good news. He's off treatment and had a stable MRI! HOORAY!

Update from spring break coming soon.

Monday, March 27, 2006 8:28 PM CST

As Cathy said, this has been an awful week in the brain tumor world.

We lost our dear Fred Schappert. We grieve with Cheri and Olivia and his family.

We also lost John Collins, a very young man, who was diagnosed only 18 months ago.

Kevin Terry has had trouble with nausea and awaits MRI results. He has a dedicated wife and four young children.

Eric Busse has had some major symptoms, an MRI showed huge growth in many areas, and he is now on hospice care. He's a young surfer and bike-rider with an incredible mom and a lovely fiance.

Matt Downey is battling a recurrence, after just getting married in August.

Clyde Green has been experiencing increased symptoms and loss of function and is no longer having any kind of treatment. Clyde and Brenda's 13 year old son, Justin needs prayer; it's a rough road for him.

Please pray for these men and their families. Fred and John were much too young, as is Clyde. Kevin, Eric and Matt are all in their 20's or early 30's. These are young, strong men, fighting with all they have. It's unimaginable. Unacceptable.

Love, Shelley

Friday, March 24, 2006 3:58 PM CST

Fred Schappert died this morning...
please pray for Cheri, Olivia, Bryan, Augusta, Jennifer and Michelle and all his family....

Father, please hold this family close in Your loving arms, protect them, comfort them, let them know Your love, reassure them that You are welcoming Fred home. Amen.

Love, Chelle

Tuesday, March 21, 2006 9:17 AM CST

I'm sorry, sorry for leaving you wondering.
Is everything okay?
Am I all right?

Truly,
yes.

And no.

Learning to live with
Dave's absence.
Filling days with
busy,
rush,
chaos,
taxi,
kids.

Lots of new stories to tell.
Nothing new to say.

Wonderful things happening,
here in this world.
He should be here.
Anger at God.
Tears of frustration,
whole body rage.
He should be here.
I should get to see his face
when Zach makes a rebound,
when Kenny gets the silver,
when Kate dances through the backyard.

Life isn't fair.
Same song,
second verse.
I'm tired.
Tired of it.
You must be, too.

I can't tell the stories,
on their own,
without saying what it means
to have these things happen
without Dave.

It's like living off-key.
Like a song,
that's too sharp,
sometimes
too flat
sometimes.
While it's still beautiful in places,
it's strained,
trying too hard,
full of false notes.

Every day, I think.
I can't do this any more.
Every day, I do it again.

Now the stories.....so much has happened.

Kenny skiied beautifully at Mission Ridge. I took Kate and Zach out of school that Friday, so they could go, too.

On the way there, we saw Dave. At Kyle's funeral, Robin described the jet streams you see in the sky. He said, "Do you ever see the jet stream, blazing across the sky, with no airplane in sight? Do you know what that is? That's Kyle. He's cloud skiing." On the way to Wenatchee, we saw, not one, but two jet streams, side by side, across the sky, no jets to be seen. Dave and Kyle, cloud skiing together.

It was amazing. There is really something incredible about the Special Olympics. There's an atmosphere of excitement and vigor that I've never experienced anywhere else. There's a freshness in the air. I know that Zach and Kate were incredibly awed and inspired by the athletes. I was, too. There are lots of "sweet" stories floating around about Special Olympics. Don't buy it all. This was cut-throat competition. These athletes train hard and they compete hard and they want to WIN! There is a comraderie, a cheering on of competitors that is rarely seen elsewhere, though. Well, except for Kenny. I have video of him frowning at the guy who aced him out of gold three times!

Kenny went back to leadership camp as a junior counselor. He was so excited. He just loves being up there with all those kids, and Amanda Biddle and Amy Wolski look out for him. Who wouldn't have a blast with two of the prettiest girls at WaHi doting on them? He's really proud of himself, and so am I.

Kate had softball tryouts. She is excited to be playing a team sport again. She didn't play last year. The year before, Dave coached their team, and they sang all season long. Their little voices, continually streaming out from the dugout, cheering on their friends. I'm not sure how much softball they learned, but they had a great time.

Kate continues to dance at the studio and is on the dance team at school. Also in choir. Lots of early morning practices. You can imagine how well this sits with Kate! She takes after her mother in that regard. Ugh! She's deep in a geology project right now.

Zach's basketball season is over for now. He'll be playing on an AllStar team this summer, but for now, it's on to school baseball. He's also trying out for the select baseball team, which will start up pretty soon. It's fun to see him in that catcher's gear.

Basketball was amazing this season. Most of the kids on the team have been playing together since they were 7 or 8 years old. We've watched them grow as players and as young men for the past 6 years, and I'm continually amazed. Many of us moms think they are the handsomest team out there. But they are also the nicest. Don't get me wrong, they play hard and very aggressive. But off the court, you couldn't find 12 nicer kids. They always crack me up. Some of you know Zach and his space-bubble...for those that don't, well, Zach's space bubble is pretty much non-existent. The kid sits on us, drapes himself over us, steps on us, walks into walls, that sort of thing. He's like an over-grown puppy. Well, most of the kids on the team are like that. It's like watching a litter of puppies roll all over each other. It's this incredible transformation, because on the court, they are Warriors.

Zach's level of play this year is astounding. He looks just like his dad. He's shooting, rebounding, and playing defense like a terrier. It's been really fun to watch. In the Spokane tournament, where our team only lost one game, Zach had a game where he fouled out on an intentional foul. It's incredible to see the passion with which he plays. The last foul the ref called intentional, which, if you know Zach, was just crazy. Zach headed to the bench, pulled his jersey over his face, sobbing. He puts his entire heart into whatever he does. His emotions just overflow. And the guys on the team are so behind him. It's okay that he has those outbursts, they support him through it.

The night before an early morning game, the guys were playing in the pool, looking like little kids. Zach and Andrew were writing on each other's chests, laughing these huge belly laughs. One of the dads said, "Hey, they have an early game coach, shouldn't they get to bed?" Mike said, "This is what it's all about, let them play." Mike is an incredible coach. He's brought this group of players so far. He expects the best from them all the time, expects them to be fundamentally sound, whether they're behind or ahead, and he expects them to be respectful and honorable at all times. And maybe most important, he cares about them as people, and wants to be sure they are having fun. They work hard for him, because he inspires that in them. He makes them better players, but he also makes them better people. I'm grateful for his presence in Zach's life.

That morning game was a squeaker. We eeked it out in double overtime. Then, at 9:00, the boys were ready for lunch! So we all went to Perkins. Andrew had been sick, fighting strep throat. At the restaurant, Andrew threw up. What a scene! Thank goodness for Joe Wujek, 'cause Mike doesn't do puke very well!

Went back to the hotel, Andrew started feeling better. Got something to eat. Then he dressed for the game. Mother Hen Zach said, "Mom, do you think Drew should play? Is he going to be okay?" I said, "I'm sure Mike will look out for him, Mike is Drew's dad after all!" We got to the game, it was a very physical game. Drew went in. Scrappy little guy. Now, you have to know that Drew is huge in heart, but small in body. Zach weighs about double what Andrew does, and delights in picking Andrew up, often calling him "my Andrew." The guys love Andrew for his humor and his indomitable spirit. I know that Zach wasn't the only one who was a bit worried about "their Andrew."

So...Drew goes up for a rebound against this bigger guy. And the big guy comes down, with his knees on Andrew's shoulders, and flattens him. Our guys all rush to Drew. Coach keeps the guys on the bench out of the fray, "Sit DOWN!" Zach was on the bench. Andrew slowly gets up, feeling sick, just been crushed, and starts walking to the bench. The crowd applauds...loudly, they know what a fighter he is. Andrew is pulling it together, he has better control of his emotions than Zach. Suddenly, Zach can't stand it anymore. He jumps up from the bench and meets Andrew halfway. He throws his arms around Andrew and shouts at the top of his voice, "I LOVE YOU, ANDREW!" and walks with Andrew back to the bench. I wasn't the only mom with tears. We went on to win that game. But that moment, between Zach and Andrew really summed up this basketball season for me. Dave would say, "It's about the man next to you."

This last tournament they played as Dave's Warriors. It was a tournament full of memorable moments.

Ryan on the floor, hip pointer and all, still going full boar. Gary, suspending time below the basket. Jake, bringing the whole team's defense to another level. Tim, rebounding. Zach S, back with us, ankle healing. Sam, new haircut, and an incredible 3-point shot. Seth, amazing ball handling skills. Matthew, talking about skateboards and baseball. Pat, always smiling. Drew, scrappy as ever. Garrett, speeding down the court like lightening. And my Zach, playing like his dad, playing for his dad. These are Dave's Warriors.
Zach Attack
Windex
Swish
Champ
Cadillac
Big Ben
Cheetah
Ryno
The Hammer
Charlie

Dave was adept at nicknames. He loved these boys, and I know he's so proud of them. I wish they could feel it, see it, know it, like they'd be able to if he were here.

We put together a music video, with video clips and pictures from throughout the years and had a party to cap the season. It was rowdy and silly and incredibly sad, too.

I miss him so.
Love, Shelley

PS. Cartridge update coming soon....Oh Lord! What have I gotten myself into???? Pictures on this afternoon.

Thursday, March 9, 2006 8:32 PM CST

This is a music video I made of Kenny's ski adventure. It's not loading very well because the file is so huge and I'm using tinypic which can't really handle it and so there are black lines in it that aren't in the original and it cuts off in the middle, and ends with a terrible shot of Kenny frowning at the sun, (stop to take a breath in the middle of this run-on sentence) but it gives you a little peek into the weekend, so I thought I'd put it up here anyway, it was quicker than trying to upload several pictures.

Here's an early prototype of the basketball one. It doesn't have any videoclips, just pictures. It has the same problems the skiing one does, but it gives you an idea. You should see them when we play the dvd on the tv. They look fabulous, if I do say so myself. I've also learned how to tweak the pictures and clips now so that there aren't any weird cut-off shots like there are in these. Anyway, I'm having fun with it. My house is a MESS because I've done nothing but work on videos. I'm making a HUGE one for the team. When I get them perfected, I can burn some DVDs for people who want them. Next project, Kate's dance recital!!

Love, Shelley

Wednesday, March 8, 2006 12:03 AM CST

Updates on basketball and skiing coming soon, I promise. I've got to get the stories down before I forget!

But....this weekend, Kenny is going back to Leadership Camp, this time as a Junior Counselor! I'm really proud of him. He's been going to training for several weeks now.

If you would like, please write Kenny a letter telling him how terrific he is. Send it to me at meyer1986@charter.net and I'll print it out for him. They have a closing ceremony at camp, and the kids all get these letters from home, and so if you'd like your letter included....get it to me by TONIGHT! Wednesday. Sorry for the short notice!

Love you, Shell

Saturday, March 4, 2006 9:50 PM CST

Quick note from beautiful Bavarian Leavenworth, snuggled in the mountains. Kenny skied beautifully today, earning two bronze medals. Kate and Zach also skied/snowboarded with Uncle Bob. We are all having a fabulous time!

Last weekend in Spokane, Zach had a tournament, it was wonderful....I have a million stories from that one. Will update when I get home.

Sorry for making you worry. I had a terrible week last week. Watching Zach play, deciding to take coaches up on the invite to play All-Star basketball....I missed Dave a lot. The Warriors were his kids, and it's just not the same without him.

Which launched me into a funk along with a lot of anger, which I'll share when I get home. Probably not tomorrow...I can feel the exhaustion already, and we have another day on the mountaintop tomorrow!

Love to you all,
especially Deb, Meg, Jake and Kevin who courageously took Duke this weekend so Sara wouldn't have to do it again. We love the Wrights and the Huxolls!! Also the Braddocks who are taking care of our cats...thanks to the Motts who did it a few weeks ago! We love our neighbors, too.

GO KENNY!!!! He says it's GOLD tomorrow!
Shelley

Wednesday, February 22, 2006 1:49 AM CST

It's the little things that sneak up on you.

Steeling myself for the 23rd.
Reading Zach's essay about his Dad.
Ready for the hard stuff.
Deep breaths,
you can do this,
I tell myself,
preparing,
anticipating,
bracing.

Then today, taking out my contacts,
I use the last of the contact solution.
It's the bottle that Dave and I both used.
And it's gone now.
Empty.
I sat there staring at the bottle,
the last drops falling to the counter,
as do my tears,
crying,
missing him.

One more thing happening without him.
Life marches on,
mercilessly,
insistently,
continually.
Ready or not.

One more tangible piece of Dave,
gone.
Like his smell on the coat,
fading.
Trying to keep the bits and pieces
I still have,
the parts I can still hold,
like his damn toothbrush,
still in the bathroom,
his shirts,
still in his drawer.

The kids come in
every night,
like they always have,
open Dave's drawer,
grab one of his t-shirts to wear to bed.
We hold what we can.

Love, Shelley

Wednesday, February 22, 2006 1:49 AM CST

Thursday, February 16, 2006 0:42 AM CST

Many have asked, so here you go:

Ya-Ya's in Bloom by Rebecca Wells
Cell by Stephen King
Son of a Witch by Gregory Maguire
The Drowning Tree by Carol Goodman
Middlesex by Jeffrey Eugenides
The Last Crossing by Guy Vanderhaeghe
Reading Lolita in Tehran by Azar Nafisi
Teacher Man by Frank McCourt
Saving Fish from Drowning by Amy Tan
A LightHouse by PD James
Christ the Lord: Out of Egypt by Anne Rice
Lirael by Garth Nix
The Kiterunner by Khaled Hosseini
The Best American Short Stories 2004 ed. Lorrie Moore
Raising an Emotionally Intelligent Child by John Gottmann (this one I've read a zillion times, but it lives on my nightstand quite often, probably more than most, but shares space with:
Raising Your Spirited Child by Mary Sheedy Kurcinka
Siblings Without Rivalry by Adele Faber & Elaine Mazlish
Real Boys by William Pollock
Smart Girls and Smart Boys by Barbara Kerr
Everyday Blessings: The Inner Work of Mindful Parenting by Myla and Jon Kabat-Zinn
Giving the Love that Heals by Harville Hendrix
Reviving Ophelia by Mary Pipher
Raising Cain by Michael Thompson
Odd Girl Out by Rachel Simmons
Protecting the Gift by Gavin deBecker

Hope you're all having a good night. Zach has a tournament in Walla Walla this weekend. Spokane the weekend after this. The weekend of March 3-5 Kenny will compete in the Special Olympics ski events in Wenatchee.

Also, remember the picture that Zach made of words in the shape of Dave's guitar? He's submitted it to a woman who is writing a book for children whose parents have brain tumors. It will be a book written for and by kids. Looks like our Zach will have his work published in that book! Nothing in writing yet, but he's pretty excited. If any of you have kids who would like to write, draw, etc...about their experience, let me know and I'll put you in touch with the author.

Love you all, Shelley

Thursday, February 16, 2006 0:42 AM CST

Saturday, February 11, 2006 10:24 PM CST

Okay, got some pictures back, and this one is worth backtracking a little bit to share. When the Warriors beat Clarkston, at the end of the third quarter, they were up by quite a few points, and the buzzer rang. They headed over to the bench, the guys on the bench got up, I expected shouting, jumping, cheering, high fives and back slaps. Instead, this....

These are amazing kids. They put their arms around each other, pulled in close, leaning their heads together, and quietly soaked up the moment, holding onto each other. These kids have supported each other and been through a lot. I have to believe that Zach wasn't the only player to take a moment to think of Dave during this big win. Dave coached them along with Mike until he no longer could. He loved these kids. You can see why. Each of them is something extraordinary.

Some of you have been waiting for an update on the poop machine, I mean Duke.

He's growing and pooping and growing and pooping, and if he weren't so impossibly cute, I'd strangle him. Speaking of such, it's a good thing my kids are cute, too. All the promises of "I'll feed him, I'll walk him, I'll clean up the messes!" Well, if you've ever had a puppy, you know who REALLY does the work. Thank heavens for my Bissell Little Green Clean Machine!

Some of you are waiting for an update on my mental health. Apparently, some of you gauge that by how my bed looks, so here you go:

Yeah, not doing so well. Although today it actually is made. The pic of Duke was taken today, and you can see the sheets. No comforter, it's in the dryer, Duke puked on it. Someone, who shall remain nameless, but whose initials are MM, cannot resist that face and stupidly shares food with the puppy sometimes. Sausage and puppies apparently do not mix well. And yes, I really am reading all those books. Well, most of them, about three or four are on deck. The rest I'm in the middle of. I'm finally able to read again, and I guess I'm going overboard.

Kenny puked today, too, up on the slopes. Please pray that we won't have a bout of the flu. I am SO not up to that. Kate's going with Uncle Bob again tomorrow. She's really excited.

Last, I re-read some of the journals, and am really struggling where to go with this. I haven't decided anything, but it's been hard for me to make the journal reflect what I want it to. And I don't know how to explain that. Some of it is that people think I'm crazy or losing my mind. I'm not. But grief is hard work, and there really isn't room for a lot else some days.

Underlying every moment, every event, every day, we miss Dave. Most of the time we make it through. Sometimes it builds to the point of being unbearable. No, often it builds to that point. Often. We do what we have to do, but it's not enough. It's hollow most of the time.

Part of that phenomenon for me is that so many times, every day, I can see Dave in my mind, not memories, but as if he were here. I can imagine just how he would sit, or stand or walk, the gestures he would make, the words he would say. It's as clear if it had actually happened.

But I don't feel him. And I really thought I would. And part of it makes me feel incredibly sad, alone, bereft, abandoned. And part of it makes me feel angry. I remember hearing this song when Dave was getting sicker.

I Can Still Feel You
Collin Raye

It's that feeling that someone
Is standing behind me
And I turn around and there's no one there
And it's the sensation
That someone just whispered
Yeah and I still hear your voice but you're not really here
Your memory is like a ghost
And my heart is it's host

I can still feel you just as close as skin
Every now and then
All by myself, in a crowded room, or my empty bed
There's a place you've touched
With your love no one gets close to
I can still feel you, I can still feel you, I can still feel you, I can still feel you

You said you'd love me forever
Then you said it's over
And left me without the missing link
I thought I'd forget you
But I guess I forgot to
And lately I've been too confused to think
When I reach for someone new
It's like I'm touching you

I can still feel you just as close as skin
Every now and then
All by myself, in a crowded room, or my empty bed
There's a place you've touched
With your love no one gets close to
I can still feel you, I can still feel you, I can still feel you, I can still feel you

In everything that moves
In everything I do

I can still feel you just as close as skin
Every now and then
All by myself, in a crowded room, or my empty bed
There's a place you've touched
With your love no one gets close to
I can still feel you, I can still feel you, I can still feel you, I can still feel you
Oh, I can still feel you

And I remember being comforted by the words of the chorus. "I can still feel you just as close as skin." I thought, that will be us. After all, we are so close, if anyone has a love that can survive death, that can remain connected across heaven, it's us, right?

The connection between us was so powerful. From the first time we were together. Do you know the story of that night? We were both working at The Old Spaghetti Factory and a bunch of us decided to go to the waterfront restaurant CI Shenanigan's in Tacoma to dance. It was restaurant employee night. We went and danced and laughed and had so much fun. Dave and I were drawn to each other. We danced. Madonna's "Crazy For You," Bruce Springsteen's "I'm On Fire," Bryan Adams' "Heaven." Not wanting the night to end when the bar closed at 2:00, we talked friends into going to Denny's for coffee. We sat and had coffee and ice cream and talked and talked. It got later, everyone left. Dave and I decided we should go. We went to the parking lot and stood by my car (a pinto look-alike called a bobcat). The rain was pouring down. We didn't care. We stood there for hours, soaking wet. Finally, it started to get light. We sat in my car for a while. Rex Smith's "You Take My Breath Away" played. We talked and talked. Commuters came in for breakfast, the world woke up around us. The sun rose, and broke through the clouds. Watching him get into his VW bug, with his U2 button on his Members Only jacket, I knew something special had happened. And I hadn't even kissed him yet.

I believed in that connection with all my heart. I still believe it. And I believed it would survive death.

But I don't feel him. I feel this horrible, aching, gaping, burning, searing, throbbing, screaming emptiness where he should be.

I never imagined death was so final. So complete. So separate.

It wasn't so with Kyle. Perhaps because only days before his death, he had been part of my body. But I could feel him. Sense him.

A few days ago, I found this.

I opened it. And cried. Last year, in early February, we found that nothing was stopping this tumor and they told us it was a matter of time. A matter of months.

Then it was Valentine's Day. Dave has always sent flowers to wherever I was during the day. Now, if you know Dave well, you already know this, but Dave loved flowers. His favorite part was the smell. He loved the roses from our yard because they were so fragrant, he preferred them to the beautifully sculpted but bland roses from the florist. I used to find him in the yard, his face buried in the blossoms. He brought special ones into me, always saying, "Smell this one!"

So last Valentine's Day, no flowers. Hmmm...memory acting up? But later in the day, I find in my car that box. Golden box, beautiful bow. Candy? No, I opened the box to find a gold and crystal rose from the jewelers...

I thought, how beautiful. And then, how expensive! And then, how un-Dave-like! It was beautiful, but incredibly fragile, too perfect, and devoid of scent and life. Not at all reflective of the things that Dave valued or loved...

But when I found the box again this year, I finally understood. Or maybe I finally allowed myself to understand. It's a rose that will not die. It's a rose that will be here for me, when he no longer can.

It's the most beautiful rose I've ever seen. Can you smell it, Dave?

Love, Shelley

Saturday, February 4, 2006 0:56 AM CST

One year ago today.
I think about the roller coaster ride
we've all
been thrust onto...
the highest highs,
the lowest lows,
the fear,
the loss of control.

One year ago today,
Dave was recovering from surgery,
a successful surgery,
symptoms gone,
feeling great,
feeling hopeful.

Scheduling gamma knife for the tiny nodule
that remained.
Feeling confident.
"Shelley, we'll beat this thing again.
It can't beat love, you know,"
my warrior would say,
holding my hand,
reassuring me,
comforting me.

Two days later,
holding my breath while they placed the screws,
drilling into his skull,
Dave serene,
no pain meds,
"God will take care of me"
he'd say, with that famous grin.

Hugging the nurses,
whistling a tune,
filling out the crossword puzzle with my sister,
Peter and Mark with us,
always with us,
Dave,
singing along to the music
always in his heart,
calming another patient's fears,
with a touch of his hand,
saying, "You're da man.
You can do this.
It's easy, I'll be right in the next room."
Dave's love,
surrounding us,
protecting us,
warming everyone within reach.

Then wheeled into the MRI.
Waiting,
waiting,
waiting.
Eating brunch through the Hannibal Lector mask.
Smiling.
Waiting.
The doctors take too long to review the scans.
My heart,
slowly sinking.
Then Dr. Rock-n-Roll comes in.
And the bottom fell out of my world.

"It's grown in these two weeks.
Too big to treat with gamma knife.
We can treat the most problematic areas.
We can't stop this.
The radiation will cause symptoms,
so will the tumor.
It's your choice.
It's your last at-bat.
Do you want to go out swinging?"

Dave said,
"Fight pressure with pressure."
But he didn't say,
"Shelley, we'll beat this."
I waited for it.
It never came.
I knew.
He knew.

No surrender.
No giving up.
But a peaceful trust
in God, to handle
what was coming.

One year ago,
the darkest days.
Not the loss of hope,
but a different hope.
One we never wanted to accept.

Here we all are,
it's been a long year,
full of heartache,
fear and pain.
But also joy,
peace,
and most of all, love.
So we hang onto that love,
as the coaster careens around another corner,
dropping us into the next valley,
trusting that it will climb the hill again,
to the top,
where we can catch our breath for a moment,
where we can see clearly,
and where we will know,
we will feel
that
what matters most, still remains.

Tuesday, January 31, 2006 2:08 AM CST

*****ATTENTION!!!*****
I'm losing my mind. Can't find my address book. I need these folks to e-mail me their mailing addresses:
Peter & Cheryl Wiederspan
Mark & Christina Nelson
Erik & Evy Haroldson
Peter & Danielle Bain
Thomas Bebee
Will & Stacy Mouat

Just a few notes, I am still soooo tired!
We went to the basketball tourney in Lewiston. Wow! What fun we had. Great group of kids. And to top it off, they beat Clarkston to win it all! Clarkston beat us in the Pendleton tournament, and they also beat us on Saturday at this tournament. Sweeet revenge....the Warriors did awesome! Just a few pictures:

THE CHAMPS!!!

Some of the fans...these are the sibs.

Zach and Gran'pa Spud (Judy's dad).

Zach and Nana (Bob's mom). Other fans in attendance: Bob, Mindy, Annalee, Caleb, Uncle Butch, Aunt Christy.

And of course, Grana and Granpa.

Congratulations, Warriors. We love you!

Shelley

PS. Here's a clip of Zach 22 on defense!

PS. Found in Dave's day planner:

"Happiness is not the absence of conflict
but the ability to deal with it."

Friday, January 27, 2006 0:27 AM CST

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Wednesday, January 25, 2006 0:34 AM CST

LOTS OF NEW PHOTOS IN THE COH ALBUM ON THE YAHOO SITE! CLICK THE 3 KIDS ABOVE TO GO TO THE YAHOO PHOTOS!

Click here to see the front-page Union-Bulletin article on Conspiracy of Hope! I tried to scan the full pictures, but it didn't scan well, I'll play with it a bit and scan it later! There was a picture of Dave, the one at the top of the page in the frame Lisa gave me, and a picture of the photo board, too.

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Here is a picture of Shane teaching Zach to play Dave's guitar. I love the smiles. I hope that Zach will smile when he plays, like Shane does, like Dave did.

This is what Kate is doing when Zach is playing guitar!

This is what Kenny is doing while Zach is playing basketball.

Here is a picture of Zach and his team. They were AWESOME in Pendleton, going all the way to the championship game and taking second in the tourney....only losing by 3 in the last game. Amazing. And such great kids.

See what I mean? Here is Zach and Ryan helping Zach S out the door. Zach S broke his ankle and is out for the season. Drat!!!

This is the team amusing themselves on the slide in the park between games.

After celebrating a great showing in the b-ball tourney, it was time for all loyal Seahawks fans to make a LOT of noise at the Meyer house. Wish I had got a shot of them with their HONK FOR THE HAWKS! sign that they were waving at all the cars on Bryant street.

And tonight, how do I even begin to describe tonight? Once upon a time, there was a teacher named Dave, who wanted to be a rock star. He and some kids at WaHi, who also had rockin' dreams, got together with some other folks, called themselves "conspirators" and brought a dream to life. Kids (and Dave) sang and danced and played music and made people laugh and cheer and cry. They took money at the door and donated it to a worthy cause. They called it: CONSPIRACY OF HOPE.

The COH concert was always near and dear to Dave's heart, as was his music, his guitar, his desire to make a difference in the place he lived....but nothing was dearer to him than those kids.

Tonight they did a video tribute to Dave. It had clips of some of his COH performances and pictures of him. It was beautiful. I love those kids. They are amazing. Dave loved them all so. And it's obvious, they loved him, too.

Front of shirt.

Back of shirt.

Speaking of amazing kids, Kenny has three businesses signed up for his Recycle for the Cure project, and many, many individuals committed. He has already received 20 cartridges, and I've been notified that more are on the way!

And this morning...there they were on our doorstep! WOW! Thank you, Kathie, you are amazing!

Thank you so much to everyone...spread the word.

We can make a difference.

We are all CONSPIRATORS OF HOPE!

Love, Shelley

Monday, January 23, 2006 11:25 PM CST

Warning: not for the faint of heart or the worry-warts.

I'm having another of those days.
The days when I not only can't fix it,
but I can't stand it, either.

Another part of the cycle.
Another low on this roller coaster.

Kevin is faltering.
Lou can't walk.
Fred is dying.
Hadley has no trial to enter.
Hailee's been in the hospital.

I write to these people.
I love these people.
People I've never seen,
never touched,
who are still my friends.

Sometimes my only friends.
If it weren't for Lisa,
dropping by,
the gift of another adult voice
in my house,
someone to just hear
the small, everyday stories,
I think I'd come unglued.
Amid the busy, rowdy noise
of kids and their friends,
it's so lonely here.

I try to pray,
for those still in the fight,
I try to pray
for my children
I try to pray
for what's left of my family,
but on nights like tonight,
my prayers feel useless,
empty,
falling through darkness
to land
unheard
unseen
unfelt.

And I know, I realize,
each time I write to these friends,
that I am living their worst fear.
I am their nightmare.
I live in the place they never want to go.

A barren place,
a place where
the loneliness is numbing
and the pain is searing,
a place of utter solitude,
where I am completely alone
where there is no Dave
and I can't feel God
and I don't feel love.

If you can't fix it,
and you can't stand it,
then you've just got to wait it out,
ride it through,
keep moving,
keep breathing,
and wait
to be able to see
the love that never fails.

I know it's there.

Shelley

PS. Update at 12:35 am Pacific time....
of course the love is there...
it came knocking on my door,
in the form of Dee,
friend beyond measure,
bringing coffee at midnight,
listening,
accepting,
hearing,
caring,
understanding,
Dee, you are wise
warm
wonderful.
Claudia, thanks for nudging her!

Monday, January 23, 2006 0:42 AM CST

Very quick update before bed:

Lou is in the hospital, he cannot walk. Please pray for him. They don't think his symptoms are being caused by tumor, but aren't sure what it is. Pray for Lou and pray for Cathy and their two boys, Drew and Damon. She is handling things beautifully, but is very afraid. Pray for God to continue to guide her steps as she cares for Lou, makes decisions and cares for her boys.

The tournament in Pendleton was great. The boys did fabulous, taking second place in the tourney. They lost the championship by only 3 points. Zach was on fire, despite his blisters. Oh to be young and heal that quickly!

Kate had a great time with Uncle Bob on the slopes. She loved it and is already trying to figure out how she can get on the mountain again!

PS. GO SEAHAWKS!!!

Love, Chelle

Saturday, January 21, 2006 9:20 AM CST

*** We're at almost 100,000 hits on this website. If you are the 100,000th person, write a note in the guestbook! Then send me an e-mail. A Dave Meyer cd to visitor #100,000!!! ***

A year ago we were in the hospital in Seattle. Dave had surgery for the third time on January 18th. The trip over was like the third circle of hell. Rain, snow, sleet, every person I love in a car on that treacherous mountain. The flights were cancelled. Dave was out of it...the tumor causing so much swelling, his brain not working right. Tension was high. I remember my Dad deciding to go out of our way to get gas at Costco and being furious, not wanting to go over the bridge in the snow, handing Dave the cell phone, telling him, "Call my Dad and tell him we are NOT going to Costco. I'll give him the $2.50 he'll save in gas." Ranting in typical Michelle style. I looked over at Dave. He was staring at the cell phone like he'd never seen it before. The bottom dropped out of my world. It was the scariest moment of the journey. I think at that moment the tumor became "real" to me. We'd been battling the blasted thing for 8 years, but Dave was always on top. Small headaches, a bit of forgetfulness, tired sometimes. But this. This was different. This man, Dave, so bright. So bright in so many ways. Quick, intelligent, caring, loving, sensitive, creative, musical, determined, strong. He shone so brightly, people were drawn to him in an inexplicable way.

And here we were, driving down the road, and he didn't know how to work a cell phone. It became a joke later. But it was never funny.

And within a few days after surgery, Dave was back. He fought and won again. He was walking stairs, smiling brightly, no longer crooked, making jokes with the nurses, telling me, "Not today!" A year ago today, I had so much hope. We were ready to go home, scheduling gamma knife for the tiny residual tumor they couldn't remove during surgery. Dave was back to being himself. I spent so much time on my knees, thanking God for this reprieve, this gift. "We'll beat this, Shelley, we will," Dave would say. I was sure we would. We always had.

Don't forget CONSPIRACY OF HOPE at WaHi on Tuesday and Wednesday.

Other news:

Zach is learning to play Dave's guitar. Thank you, Shane, from the bottom of my heart.

Zach has a basketball tourney in Pendleton this weekend, but his feet are messed up from snowboarding blisters that aren't healing correctly. Went to the doc yesterday, and Ted did some minor "surgery" on Z's feet. He's riding the bench for a bit until they're better.

The plumber came and fixed my faucet. Said we need a new water main. Guess I should be glad some things never change, eh, Evy, who understands exactly what I mean...car, plumbing, sewer...repair projects gone wrong$$$!

Kate is skiing with Uncle Bob today. She's very excited. Kenny is skiing with Special Olympics today. They should have a lot of fun.

DON'T FORGET INK CARTRIDGES!

Duke, well, looks like we're out of the newborn puppy stage. We're doing all the usual puppy things now. Chewing, barking, waking us up all night long, pooping and peeing every 10 minutes. But, wow, he's so darn sweet!! We love him to pieces. For everyone that asked, his dad is a chocolate lab and his mom is a smaller, white, mixed-breed mutt!

PRAYER ALERTS:

My friend, Cathy, and her husband Lou, who live in Chicago on the 58th floor, they don't have a website, and I forgot to ask for prayers for them on Thursday (I'm so sorry, Cathy!), but Lou had an MRI Thursday, and it looks like there is some growth. They are making treatment decisions, and it's so hard. Here's a post she put on the list, since it's already public, I think it will be okay to post it here. It gives you an idea of what they are battling and how much Cathy loves that man. Please pray for them.

Greetings dear list friends,

MRI was late last night...scheduled for 8:30, we got there at 9:15 due to
various reasons......no one there to check us in. They are open until 11:00.
We go into the MRI department and find someone. The only good thing about
evening MRI's is NO ONE is there and so it goes faster. Go with Lou into the
changing room, like always. How many MRI's have there been since October
05.....perhaps something like 12 at least.....each one, the "first" one for my
Lou......"have we been here before "....."what do we do
here"....sigh.......last night, no different. Go into the MRI room, hold his feet, like
always....and pray as the machine makes it's loud noises.......please please not this
time, not yet... we aren't ready for that yet.....we can live this way, we
really can......it's ok like this.....I'll take him like
this..........sigh...... it's over.....back to the changing room. On our way out, Lou says "I
thought we were going to go dancing after this"........this is why we keep doing
this, isn't it.........this is why we keep going, keep searching, keep
hoping.........

This morning, no email from the dr. Not a good sign. I finally email him.
He says "where can I call you". Not a good sign. He calls. It's not
good news, but, it could be worse. There is progression in the main tumor
(which has been dormant since it shrunk over a year ago now), and the lesion.
"How much progression" I ask? "maybe 15r so, just eyeballing it". OK,
like I said, could be worse, huh, I know this. I know this after the week
we have seen on our lists.....it could definitely be worse. Some say less
than 25rowth is "stable", right??? We have had hardly no treatment since
October really. There was no change after 5 weeks of no treatment, so we went
to the low dose temodar, but he didn't really get much this month all told.
Now what? Doctor says several chemos we can try....and a new trial is
available. But I know the real issue.........should we do it.........can Lou do
it.........he is NOT walking well now.......doctor says it is not due to the
tumor. Why can't he walk well? His counts are all very good. He does look
good. I think maybe the ruta is helping his alertness.....but.......chemo
and Lou.........tough.........bad reaction to just about everything........

Now what........don't know........nothing until we see the doctor next week
anyway..........just going to be with my guy, as the snow falls
outside........snuggle in, hang on, and pray...........pray for all of us.........what a week
it has been............God bless us all........

Cathy B. w/o Lou, age 69, dx inoperable gbm 10/04

Kevin and Kari are starting a new chemo combination on Tuesday, his MRI showed growth. Please pray for this next chemo to be THE ONE!

Fred, Cheri and Olivia are making it through the days, a slow process, painful, but full of many small gifts and much love. Please pray for these days to bring many blessings, many memories to treasure.

There is an 18 year old boy on our list who has been given no hope by the doctors, his spinal tumor continues to defy any treatments thrown at it. Please pray for him, his mom and his sister.

Hadley Bug, Hawaiian princess, her treatment is in a sort of limbo right now, pray for the right treatment to become clear to her mom, Angela.

Hailee has been quite ill and in the hospital. Please pray for healing for her and strength for her mom, Melissa.

Brenda, her husband Clyde and their son, Justin need our prayers. This BT journey is so hard on families. Clyde has chosen not to pursue further chemo or surgery.

So many families, so many struggles. Such bravery, such heart, such love.

Such love. Shelley

PS. Please join me in praying for the families whose loved ones have lost
the battle against brain tumors in 2005. These are from one of the
lists to which I belong. The name of the patient is first, and the
parenthesis indicate caregivers/family members who were members of the listserv. As you can see, the list is far too big. Please pray for a cure to
be found.

2005 Honors:

Laura Adams (mother of Ashley)

Lori Arquilla Andersen (daughter of Linda Magiera)

Glen Baker (cousin of Jacki Fitzmorris' mother)

Ugo Bartole (husband of Debbie)

Doug Bennett (brother of Don)

Bill Bither (husband of Carol)

Bruce Brink (husband of Shaun)

Jack Brownell (father of Jacki Fitzmorris)

Gordon Brunhild (gentle husband of Sunnie)

Leo Burr (husband of Jean)

Tino Carbone (father of Krissy)

Pam Caulfield (wife of John)

Johnnie Cochran

Kevin Collins (husband of Carol, brother of Carol Roberts)

Mary Lois Cook (mother-in-law of LeeAnn Boston)

Damien Cusick (husband of Susan)

Ginger Dorn (wife of Henry)

Dorothy (mother of Stacey)

Lesli Farry (twin sister of Lori Najera)

Lauren Fitzgerald (daughter of Michael)

Donna Fraser's father

Darlene Garth (mother of Kelli Froman)

Melanie Gillmeister's mother

Sophie Goddard's father

Howard Goldberg (husband of Carole)

Rich Gordon (father of Carey)

Raymond Gravlin

Larry Graybill (husband of Sue)

Janel Gubeno (sister of Michele Jenkins)

Betty Hamlin

William Hapgood (husband of Lili)

Dell Hesler (brother of Terri Martin)

Daryn Lyn Holland (son of Fritzie Samford)

Janet Huebner's brother-in-law

John (husband of Kathryn Geyer)

John Jacobs (father of Abra)

Jamie Johnson (husband of Cindy)

Tony Kapulka (husband of Melissa [Plantation Towers])

Andy Keenan (fiance of Erica Brown)

Kevin (husband of Angela Gilliam)

Gwen Kuss (sister of Jessica Smith and Natalie)

Nigel Lee (husband of Diane)

Daniel Richard Levin (son of Barb Ott)

Myrna Lewis (sister of Diane Eickhoff Barnhart, stepmother of Cindy Butler)

Shelly Lewis (husband of Peggy, father of Lynne Siegel)

Spencer Mattson (son of Julie and Rob)

John May (father of Marci Baumann)

O'Dean McKenney (husband of Sabrina)

Ken Melton (husband of Sue)

Edith Meltzer (mother-in-law of Cathy Meltzer)

Michael Metcalf (husband of Donna)

Dave Meyer (husband of Michelle)

Mike (fianc� of Troylene Cooper)

Stephen Miloscia (son of Mary)

Roxanne Morrissey (mother of Christine)

Gill Mustafa (mother-in-law of Ziv Shevket)

Ivan Noble

Brittany Ren�e Nolan (daughter of Marilynn)

Norman (father of Francesca Cull)

Apostle Babalola OlaOjo (father of Ann McLean)

Will Oliver (husband of Helen Pitt)

Martha Jane Pap (mother of Lynn Krasiewich)

Bud Paulding (father of Trish Thackston)

Irene Philips' aunt

Bob Popowski (father of Maria Carr)

Andy Posa

Leigh Roberts (wife of Stephen)

David Rufo, Sr. (father of David)

William Sansalone (son of Maria)

Sarah (daughter of Ron Holmes)

Linda Sargeant (mother of Scott)

Ian Scott (husband of Marje)

Scott Sellers (husband of Kellie, brother of Heather)

Vince Sgro (husband of Fran)

Bonny Shannon (mother of Patty Simons)

Philip Shattuck (brother of Shari Ouillette)

Russ Shields (husband of Tina)

Hardip Singh (father of Harpreet Kaur)

David Taubenfeld (husband of Felicia)

Robert Tisch

Barbara Tona (mother of Mike Tona and JoAnn Sei)

George K.Y. Tseo, PhD (husband of Hui Fu)

Eugene Vance (father of Wanda Graham)

Patricia VanDragt (mother of Kellie Wiersma)

Chris Wilcome (friend of Lisa Weinstein)

Jeff Wilcox (son of Ken and Kathy)

Dr. Lee Wiltse (father of Emily Woudenberg)

Pat Wolter (son of Connie)

Mike Wowk (father of Julie Watt)

Paul Young

Yuri (father of Marina Mandelzweig)

Richard A. Zanol, Sr. (father of Jennifer Talluto)

Monday, January 16, 2006 7:28 PM CST

Today, ten years ago, Dave got his girl. He called her Katie and BabyCakes. Every time we were pregnant, he was sure it was a girl, hoping for a girl. And then Kate was born.

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Dave was radiant. We watched the video today from the day Kate was born. How little did we know that our lives would change so drastically in less than a year. Dave looks happy, joyful, energetic. But he also looks pale and thin. Or do I only see it now?

We celebrated at the ice rink. Just like last year. Last year, we were preparing for Dave's third surgery, scheduled January 18th. Dave couldn't skate, but could cheer the girls on.

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I can't believe she's TEN!!

I'm so proud of her. The shirt she wore for her party has a picture of her as a baby, with Dave and I both looking at her. It says, "Pretty baby." I hope she always remembers how he adored her.

Love, Chelle

Wednesday, January 11, 2006 6:16 PM CST

Did you see the D.O.G. banner above? It's our new motto: Depend On God. And we have Duke to remind us!

Okay, Claudia....I'll tell the story about Duke's name, but first, let's see if anyone can guess. All of Claudia's guesses were wrong. Deb and Melinda, you're disqualified, because you already know where "Duke" came from.

First 5 people to get it right get a Cancer Sucks Club button!

I've been thinking we need to add a middle name that starts with "J" so that he can be a DJ like David Joseph. Even though no-one ever called him DJ. Any votes on that?

Meanwhile....
He's been such a sweet puppy. As you can see, he mostly sleeps:

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We are enjoying him tremendously!

Other news:
Kenny went skiing Saturday. He said he had a blast, only fell once and went on the lift six times! He's such a snow enthusiast.

Kenny's decided to do his community service project on brain tumor awareness and wants to raise money for research. So...here's a request: if you have used print or toner cartridges...for printers, copiers, fax machines...send the empties to Kenny. He will turn them in to Al Musella, and 100 percent of the proceeds will go directly to brain tumor research.

If you see Zach walking like an old man, that's because he went snowboarding on Sunday with Uncle Bob. He had a fabulous time, but methinks he overdid it just a tad. Hmmm, so unlike Zach.

Kate started back to Explorers, and it seems to be going well so far. She's very excited about her birthday this weekend, because the cousins are coming, the cousins are coming!

Me, well, it's a good thing that Duke is here, filling us all with such love, because most days remain pretty empty. Full of "stuff." Stuff to do, stuff to take care of, stuff to taxi kids to....the ache, however, remains, just under the busy.

Love, Shell

*****Jan 12 update*****
We have our 5 winners:
Kari Terry
Monica
Sara Huxoll
Kelli Knudson
and Kevin/Stefan via Kirsten

Consolation prize to Claudia, for entering twice! :-)

Well, we actually named him Duke for the Duke University Blue Devils basketball team. Zach has been a fan of Duke and their b-ball team since he was 4! (A Duke fan, even before a Cougs fan....hard to believe, I know.) We also thought that it was a bonus that Duke University has one of the very top brain tumor treatment centers in the world, and that they directly consulted on Dave's case for several years.

Cancer Sucks Club buttons going out to the winners. Please e-mail me your mailing address, my address book is buried in the closet!

Claudia gets a button, too, for pure persistence!

Save those printer cartridges, toner cartridges for fax machines and copy machines are good, too! And a HUGE thank you to Kathie, for all your help and dedication. Kathie found a way for all the printer cartridges from Walla Walla Community College to go to Kenny's project!! HOORAY!

And in response to Kathie's question, my understanding is that Kenny can continue to do this project all 4 high school years if he chooses. He will definitely continue through this school year and the summer. He re-evaluates his blueprint in the fall for his sophomore year, and decides then what to do. I suppose there's a chance that the Musella Foundation will stop accepting cartridges at some point, but they've got a great deal going for now, so I wouldn't anticipate it ending anytime soon. You can check it out at Virtual Trials & Musella Foundation Website They can get up to $5.00 for a single name-brand cartridge. And 100f that goes to brain tumor research. WHoo hoo!!

Also, please note,
THE DAVE MEYER CONSPIRACY OF HOPE CONCERT will be at WaHi's auditorium on January 24 and 25 (repeated show) at 7:07 pm. Free will donations at the door...I'm not sure what cause the concert is benefitting this year, will try to find out. Please try to come!

Love you all, Shell

Sunday, January 8, 2006 1:43 AM CST

Okay, first some pictures from the past few weeks, just so you can keep up on what we've been doing.

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This is Dave's birthday party. It was rather impromtu. We had decided to just spend time together, just me and the kids. But as the day wore on, we decided we had to have a cake. It was a big joke in our family, how we always got a cake, even though Dave didn't really like cake. So we got cake, rented Stripes, Dave's old favorite movie, and a few friends dropped in. We decided to have the sparkling cider that Secret Santas brought.

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Will and Zach toast Dave.

Kenny, Meg, Kate, Will and Zach blowing out the candles.

Deb and Shelley, from Kate's slightly lower perspective.

Kenny being, well, Kenny.

We were invited to the Bergstrom Almost New Year's party and the kids made gingerbread houses.

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Will and Quinn. Or as Dave called them: "Double D and Q."

Kate and Zach. Notice the Cougar shirt? In this picture, the last one and the next ones. Does he own anything else?

Then today, well, a friend had these puppies....you can guess the rest of the story.

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Will, Zach and Andrew...riding in the car, on our way to "just look." Kenny was skiing today, so we knew we couldn't get a puppy, just look.

Zach fell in love with every puppy he held.

This is Duke, previously known as Chase. I took the most pictures of him. I must have known.

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Kate holding Duke/Chase and Ty, the second runner-up.

How could you say no?

Whew, it's been a long day, and we're all DOG-TIRED!
Ha!

I can't believe I did this.
But if Hailee and Melissa can do it.
And Olivia and Cheri can do it.
I guess I'll survive, too.
I guess I'm not brave enough for the tatoo!

His name is Duke, and he is impossibly, ridiculously cute.

And I promised Sara I'd tell you that he has one sister and five brothers that are just as cute, ready to go to new homes. Her email is in the guestbook!

Thank you, Sara, and also McKenzie, Megan and Mia, for letting us have this little darling. We promise to take good care of him. So far the cats are a little miffed, but mostly disinterested. The puppy looks for his brothers and sister a little, but likes to burrow in Kate's hair, that seems to make him feel happy. He hasn't cried much at all, although he wasn't happy on the ride home. I hope he learns to like riding in the car! Anyway, he's asleep, snuggled up to Z right now. (His name got drawn out of the bowl first.)

PS. Duke may be a Blue Devil, but his collar is Cougar Crimson!

Goodnight all,
Love,
Chelle...craziest woman in three counties!

Saturday, January 7, 2006 2:12 AM CST

January 6.
Happy Birthday, Cindy.
Happy Birthday, Cheri.

Dave used to call this day "Happy Un-Tumor Anniversary." And, as you might guess, he had a little song that went along with it.

That was one of the differences between Dave and I. He saw this as a day for celebration. The day the surgeons took out the tumor.

I saw it as one of those dark days. The day they told me that my husband's tumor was malignant.

He had been in that wreck on December 23. They did an MRI, put him on anti-seizure meds and steroids, and scheduled him for surgery. At the pre-surgery conference, the doctor asked, "Do you have any questions?" Dave said, "Only one. Do you believe in God?" The doctor looked Dave in the eye and said, "Yes, I do." Dave relaxed into his chair and said, "Okay, Shelley, you take it from here."

So I asked a million questions.

Then the doctor had one for us. "Do you have a will? A living will?" Dave said, "Do I need one?" Dr. Gehling kind of shook his head and said, "What you and I are going to do, there's nothing more dangerous, except maybe a heart/lung transplant. You need a will."

Dave said, "If it will make you feel better, I'll get one. But if I was going to die, it would have happened on that highway. There's a reason I'm still alive."

So Dan Hess helped us draw up wills. Thank you, Dan.

Then we researched everything, everything. And talked to doctors all over the place. Debated about having surgery with Mitch Berger, who is a world-reknowned surgeon, then at UW. Didn't know what to do. Dave said, "It's okay, we'll just pray, and we'll know." The next day, huge snowfall, closed passes. Dave said, "See, that's the sign. We stay."

The band came. Mark, Erik, Steve. They played music loud and late into the night. They wanted to shave Dave's head and write "Open other side" on his left side, but didn't, they were too busy playing guitar and singing. Our little house rocked that night.

The next day, we went to the hospital. There were crowds of us in the waiting room. All with these bandages around our heads, thinking we'd make Dave laugh. Dr. Gehling had thought Dave's tumor was very slow-growing as it was so large and Dave had had no symptoms. He said, when we do the surgery, I'll look at the cells, we'll know if it's malignant or not." Dave and I held hands, Robin prayed with us, and he was wheeled down the corridor.

Dave's tumor was right temporal lobe. They told us it could affect memory and emotion. We waited. Would he be okay? Would he still be Dave? Would he remember us?

Dr. Gehling came out and let us know that things were going well, but the slides had shown malignancy. Told us he'd know more after the UW pathologists had looked at the samples. Preliminary results were grade 2.

Whew, I thought, grade 2. We're not at 4. This will be okay.

I went to the recovery room, a friend snuck me in. Dave opened his eyes, smiled at me and said, "Not today." (Story of that in journal history.) So I knew he was okay.

Was feeling pretty good, pretty optimistic, Dave had come through surgery with flying colors, the tumor was low-grade. This was good, right?

Went to see Dave once they got him settled in ICU. Kathy Yancey was his nurse. She's a member of the famous class of '81. As I talked with her, and she worked over Dave, she wouldn't look into my eyes. When I finally caught her gaze, there were tears in her eyes. I knew then that she understood something I didn't. And for the first time since the patrol called about the wreck, I felt real fear. Paralyzing fear. Stomach-dropping, head-spinning, panic-inducing fear. I looked at Kathy and said, "I need to talk to the doctor again." She said, "I think so."

So I met with him again. He explained everything to me again. And again. And I still didn't get it. It didn't sound so awful. Low-grade tumor, debate about radiation, no need for chemo, too slow-growing for chemo.....I made him tell me again. Finally he said, "Michelle, are you asking for numbers?" I said, "I guess I am." He said, "80f people with this kind of tumor will die within 2-3 years." I said, "What about the other 20 He said, "Some on each side of that." Then he told me about a child he knew who had had a grade 4, the dreaded GBM, who was still living 16 years later. Turned out he was a student of Dave's, someone Dave knew and cared for. And then, he said, "But kids are different."

But we all know that Dave had never been 80n his entire life, right? 80as never enough for him in any endeavor. So I held onto hope.

Dave was moved to a regular room, some double vision, some facial numbness. They assured us it would go away, it did. Dave was pretty tired, slept Tuesday mostly. Then Wednesday, he wanted to talk. What did the doctor say? I told Dave that it was cancer. He stood up and said, "Hospitals are for sick people. Get me out of here." Then he said, "There might be kids who are having a hard time with this diagnosis, let me talk to someone so I know who to pray for."

The first night Dave was in the hospital, I went home, because Kate was still nursing. When I woke up in the morning, I couldn't find Kenny. Kenny was 5 at the time, and didn't talk much yet. When I went into the living room, he was sound asleep on Mark's chest. I'll never forget that.

He said his first goal was to be home for Kate's first birthday, January 16. He got out of the hospital January 9. His second goal was to dance at her wedding. I suppose they have dance floors in heaven, but it's not the same.

Love, Shelley

PS. Look in the photo album on CB for some pictures of the Kyle grief cocoon and the snowball fight.

Monday, January 2, 2006 1:52 AM CST

(Jan 3 - I added a pic of me with Kyle, see below)

Today is January 2.
One of the five happiest days of my life.
It's the day Kyle was born.
Dave was so excited. All through the pregnancy, Dave was sure this was a girl. He bought this little pink sleeper. He was just sure that Kyle was a girl. Actually, he was sure it was a girl all four times! But if he were to be a boy, his name was to be Kenny or Erik. Kenny or Erik. Erik or Kenny. We went back and forth. Dave said, "Oh, it didn't matter anyway, since Amanda Loree was going to be born." A few days before Kyle was born, we had an ultrasound, because there had been so much confusion on his due date (turned out he was 3.5 weeks overdue!), and we discovered he was a boy! A boy! We were amazed. And suddenly decided to name him Kyle. Don't ask me why or how. It just happened.

Dave's brother, Bob, was in town for the weekend. I'd had a lot of contractions on Dave's birthday, he was hoping that Kyle would be born on his birthday, but it didn't happen. Then early, early on January 2, I started having contractions. Dave was completely beside himself. He got the stopwatch, and not only timed, but wrote down every contraction, with full description. It finally made me crazy and I threw away his paper and pen. So no cute momento for the baby book.

Dave loaded the car.
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You can see how excited he was. He took a picture of my giant belly on our way out the door. I don't have that one scanned....sorry! Or maybe not. That's something else you might not know. Dave LOVED baby tummies. He continually rubbed my tummy, talking to the baby, reading books and singing songs. All our babies immediately recognized and sought out Dave's voice. He loved other baby tummies, too. Just ask Denise.

A textbook, almost silent, exactly 12 hour long labor later, Kyle was born at exactly 6:00 pm. He was beautiful. Perfect. Dave was amazed. Simply amazed.

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I've always loved this picture. You can see the excitement, the nervousness, the awe.

Dave was the best Daddy ever. He was thrilled. He cut the cord. He gave the first bath. He changed the first diaper. He flew Kyle through the air on his hand...Air Kyle, he called it. He soothed Kyle by snuggling him next to his skin and nestling his little head against his neck, humming deeply, so Kyle could feel the vibrations and hear his voice. He loved to sleep with the baby, could hardly bear to put him down.

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We were a family, we were delirously happy. I had planned to go back to work. The minute I held Kyle, I told Dave, "I can't do it. I can't leave him." So we changed plans, so I could stay home.

We had 25 gloriously happy days. Days of joy. Days untouched by fear or doubt or pain or sadness. Nothing but pure hope, a trust in the future, a closeness, a growing together that was simply miraculous.

Then, one day, at the mall with my friend, Dave with Erik and Mark on the way to a gig, Kyle stopped breathing.

I remember it like a movie. So surreal. I remember my heart beating so loudly in my own ears, pounding, pounding, adrenaline rushing through my body. I couldn't tell if Kyle was breathing, if his heart was beating or if that was my own heart. I started CPR. Someone asked me questions. I couldn't answer, so a little black girl, about 14, tiny, willowy, took Kyle and continued rescue breaths. I watched her in amazement. The ambulance arrived. I remember seeing the paramedic uniforms. It was like my dad had arrived. I felt safe suddenly. I knew that if anyone could save him, they could. They ripped open his sleeper, blue and white striped. They started an IV. They put a tube in his mouth. They motioned for me to follow them. I saw Kyle's pacifier on the floor and grabbed it. I would hold that pacifier for weeks, afraid to let go of it. I climbed into a police car which followed the ambulance to the hospital. It took forever to get there. We were at Cinnabon when it happened. I remember smelling the cinnamon on my clothes and feeling sick, retching in the police car.

We couldn't find Dave. He was somewhere between Tacoma and Seattle in the days before cell phones. We kept calling, calling anyone we knew. Finally, Dave came in the door. I couldn't look at him. Couldn't bear to see those eyes. I just held onto the pacifier. And we waited. Finally, the doctor came in. I don't remember what he said. I saw his face and I knew. I remember feeling like a block of ice. I couldn't think, couldn't feel. We went into this room, and Dave held Kyle, combed his hair, sang to him. I watched. I held Kyle, but felt nothing. Nothing at all.

They took us to a room. A room with a phone. We called some people. The lady from the funeral home came to take Kyle's body. I remember asking her to be careful, be gentle with my baby.

Then it was time to go. We didn't want to walk out that door, knowing it meant that once we passed that threshold, that real life would start again.

We went home. Decided we shouldn't be alone. Dave wanted to sit in Kyle's room, I couldn't go there. Immediately we knew that this was going to be hard, that we were going to have to work to understand that while we were on the same journey, we were taking different steps. We had to work to make sure those steps were toward each other and not away.

We called Peter and Cheryl and they came to be with us. The band arrived late at night, breaking our hide-a-bed. My dad and sister arrived, Denise with one shoe and one pair of pants. My mom was stuck on the highway with a broken down car. Dave's parents came. Peter fixed the screen door, it was squeaking, it sounded like a baby's cry to me, so Peter fixed it.

There were a lot of people there, I remember Mark and Peter and Cheryl and Denise stayed for days. They never left. Our parents, too. They all stayed until we told them to go home.

I remember Mark and Denise and Peter cocooning with us for the few days after Kyle died, waiting with us for answers from the doctors (hypoplastic left heart syndrome), sitting with us, crying with us, just being there. We planned a funeral. We found a cemetery. We selected a gravesite, a headstone. We had the service in a beautiful chapel overlooking the sound, trees all around, Mark and Erik's voices surrounding us in songs, songs that had just been played at our weddings.

On the way home, it began to snow. People rushed back over the pass, hoping to beat the weather. We went home. The tension lifted, enormous relief in the air. And we had this huge snowball fight, screaming and laughing, almost hysterical, verging on mania from days spent inside, grieving. The diaper service kid came to pick up the pail, a somber look on his face. He looked at us like we were lunatics, having expected to find us grief-stricken. We laughed at that, a laugh tinged with just a little hysteria, not sure yet how to "be" in this new world. How to find our place? How to find each other?

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We did. We made it through, with a lot of help, a lot of support, and a lot of effort, too. Another of Dave's famous sayings:
"Love is not a feeling, it's a decision."
How right he is. It's the commitment that carries us through. The choice. The decision. The being there, even when it's easier not to.

Some say that time heals. I'm not sure that's true. I miss Kyle every day, just as much as I ever did. It hurts, just as much as it ever did. The death of a child leaves a scar like no other. On the psych diagnostic "v-codes" in the DSM-IV, losing a child is on par with being in a concentration camp. It's wrong, on that level, on that scale. It's out of order. There is no healing that. You learn to live with it, around it, in spite of it. Dave and I talked about how it always felt like someone was missing. Always. Counting heads, "One, two, three.....(silently, in my heart, 'four.')"

At least Kyle's not alone now.
I, on the other hand...

Tears. Chelle

Wednesday, December 28, 2005 2:36 AM CST

It's after midnight.
It's Dave's birthday.
He would be 43.
He loved pizza and bowling and football.
He loved pie and didn't care for cake.
He loved Reeses Peanut Butter Cups.
He loved the ocean.
He loved hugging.
He loved singing.
He loved his guitar.
He loved Jesus.
And he loved us.

So many times, I've missed him so.
So many times, I could actually see him.
Laughing at Kate and Zach squealing and squirming when picking up pieces of fish to feed the seals.
Helping Zach with his first shave.
Stretching his body, leaning his head back, half-closing his eyes in the passenger seat of the Suburban..."Riding in style, eh, Shelley?"
Buying roses for Kate's dance recital.
Making Darren put on the Santa hat to fill the stockings.
Going with Darren to buy silly, stupid, outrageous, and sweet stuff to put in the stockings.
Putting bows on his head.
Smiling, laughing, the spark of life in any gathering, that was Dave.

We miss him so.

Saw an ad for a movie today. A quote from the movie: "If you cain't fix it; ya gotta stand it."

So we're standing it.

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Kate and Amy opening stockings.

Zach and Kenny opening stockings.

Luke and Jake, well, opening stockings.

Zach saving the puppy on Kate's new game system.

Getting ready to leave Kelso, in the new Suburban. PS. For Lord's sake! I have my CHEATING shoes on, which add at least 2.5 inches. Those boys are getting too tall!

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Kate and Grandpa, we're back in Walla Walla for Christmas part 2!

Annalee, Kate and my new "grandbaby" Kacey.

Standing it.

Love you all, 'Chelle

PS. More photos on photo page. Tomorrow I'm going to try to see if I can find some birthday pictures of Dave through the years. Don't know if I'll be able to pull it off on such a short time line, tho!

Friday, December 23, 2005 9:25 PM CST

December 23.
A date that will always burn in my memory.
The date that our world changed forever.
The date that we began a roller coaster ride that brought the highest highs and the lowest lows, that lasted forever, but ultimately ended all too soon.

Most of you know this story. Nine years ago today, Dave and his brother, Bob, decided to go to Portland, about 4 hours from our home, to pick up some furniture. I didn't want them to go. Selfishly, I wanted Dave home. So they left very, very early in the morning.

And hit ice outside of Boardman. They rolled the van three times. I got a call from the state patrol saying they'd been taken to the hospital, no word on their condition. Mom and Dad were packing to leave. They stayed to help get things sorted out.

So began one of the longest hours of my life. Phone call after phone call to hospitals in the area. No-one knew anything about them. Finally, an hour later, I reached a nurse in the Hermiston ER. "Yes, they just came in. They're fine. They're making all the nurses laugh. Bob will need a few stitches, but they're okay."

Whew! Crisis over, so I thought. We drive to Hermiston. Dave says, "There's something growing in my head." I think he's crazy. The doctor put the CT scan on the lights. This huge mass is staring at me. This huge white thing, pressing Dave's brain to the side. "That's got to come out," I say, running my fingers over the outline of this monster living inside my love's head. "That's got to come out."

"Yep," says the doctor. "We're sending you to the nearest neurosurgery center by ambulance." Dave was having an erratic heartbeat, they didn't want us to go by car. Where in the world is that? I ask. "Walla Walla," he says. So we ride home, in a bumpy ambulance.

They hook Dave up to IV's. Tubes. Medications. Scans. Tests. Anxiety. Fear. Terror. Hope. Love. A cycle we would come to know intimately over the next 9 years. A cycle we'd repeat every 8-12 weeks for the next 9 years. Holding onto one another. "We'll get through this," Dave would say, "together. We'll beat this thing."

How many times did I sit with him, holding his hand, while they pumped medications, poisons into his veins? How many times did he reach over to reassure me? How many times did I hold my breath as the doctor put the scans over the lights, waiting to see what the beast was doing? Was it asleep or on the prowl? Too many to count.

Too many times sitting in waiting rooms. Too many times facing the possibility that the monster in his head could take away everything that mattered. Too many days of sickness. Too much fatigue. Too much loss. Too many times.

And yet, not enough. Not nearly enough.

2005 is almost over. Today is 4 months since Dave died. One third of a year. I have a hard time believing we've made it this far. So many things he's missed. Kenny's first football game, his first touch down, his smile in that WaHi Blue Devil helmet, Kenny's 15th birthday, Zach's touchdowns, interceptions, sacks, his love of the game, his excitement, his basketball games, Kate's dance recital, her Christmas program, my birthday, our anniversary. And more to come.

It's funny that we ended 2005 in much the same way we began it.

In January of 2005, Dave was scheduled for surgery in Seattle. We had a new (to us) car and went over the pass on the worst travel day of the year. It was horrific...like something out of revelations. I remember thinking, "Everyone I love is on this mountain. We're all going to die together." There was snow, torrential rain, ice...what a mess. The pass was closed, the flights were cancelled. We pulled over to put chains on the cars. Dave wandered around with the directions on this little plastic mat, reading them, drifting from car to car. Finally, he put it over his head to dodge some of the snow/rain that was coming down. I remember watching him, and the fear, it was so sharp it took my breath away. Earlier I had handed him a cell phone, and he looked at it like he wasn't quite sure what it was. It was one of those moments, where the bottom drops out of your world, and you're left with that sickening, gut-punched feeling.

And now, at the end of 2005, again in a new car, travelling on one of the worst days of the year, bumping over ice in Hood River, torrential rain in Cascade Locks, high winds in Troutdale, and no electricity in Seaside, here we go again...this time without Dave. And I look at our kids, and I have that same sharp fear, that sick feeling in the pit of my stomach.

Because it's so wrong. They are doing well. I'm proud of them. They stay focused on what matters, and they keep moving forward. But it hurts, because they shouldn't have to. They all have that sadness behind their eyes. They've been robbed of something so essential. They'll be okay. I promised Dave, they'll be okay. But it could be, should be so much more than just okay.

Love, 'Chelle
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Tuesday, December 20, 2005 1:20 PM CST

Okay,
Wow.
Lots to tell.

First of all, Secret Santa:

I don't have the little tags handy, so I'll have to post the clever poems later, but at Annalee's Bowling Birthday Bash, the Secret Santa-S! revealed themselves. The poem for the 12th day mention being tired of running around! Anyway, I was partly right...it was my lovely family...sister Mindy, sister Missy, mom Judy, grandma Ginger, Dee Wellington and sister Stephanie. What a fun adventure that was. It was wonderful for the kids to have something to look forward to each day. So thoughtful and so just like them!

Now there's another mystery...someone left a GIANT bag on our doorstep, someone who's been reading the website...there was a picture of McIllvaigh man, and a Patrick sitting on a crabby patty ornament to keep M-man company! (If you don't watch SpongeBob, ask your nearest neighborhood kid.) A lovely angel ornament for me, a purple ornament for Kate, a note and ornament about John 3:16 for Zach, a snowman made of football ornament for Kenny, other ornaments that said PEACE and LOVE and this beautiful framed PEACE with the verse about "My peace I leave you..." Beautiful. Amazing. And I have no clue who it is!!! Thank you, Mystery St. Nick!

Last...we did trade in the Toyota. With the year-end rebates and the red-tag specials our local dealer was having, I had the choice between an 03 Tahoe, an 03 Quest, or an 05 Suburban....all for roughly the same money. So we got a good trade-in on the Toyota, and bought the Suburban. Will post a pic soon. Hooray. I purchased the extended warranty, too, so hopefully, no more car woes for a while!!

Love you all,
Shelley

Friday, December 16, 2005 11:21 PM CST

The concert was awesome! And LOUD!!! Kate was miserable until Teri gave her some earplugs. Then she bounced around and danced. The kids had a lot of fun.

The crowd lifted Tim up and passed him around. I'm not sure what they call that. Guess I'm getting old.

They had a good turnout, especially considering they were competing with WaHi's Winter Concert!

Thank you, Tim. You are amazing!

If anyone would like to donate to Tim's concert for brain cancer research, contact him at mailto:tandt@bmi.net

We've been busy, busy with dance rehearsals. Kate is a gypsy. Very cute!

Secret Santa has been busy, too.

On the seventh day of Christmas
as you think of swimming swans,
Enjoy a shower/tub of bubbles
before the morrow dawns.

(My favorite Bath & Body Works shower gel in Orange/Ginger, plus scented bubbles for the kids.)

On the eighth day of Christmas
the milking maid took sick.
We hope you enjoy this ornament.
Could it be from Old Saint Nick?

(A beautiful cardinal ornament plus some very cute gingerbread ornaments.)

On the ninth day of Christmas
the ladies danced all night.
We hope you enjoy these goodies,
Perhaps you'll share a bite?

(Moose Munch and yogurt-covered pretzels from Harry & David. They were gone in 5 minutes, since Q-baby, aka the bottomless pit, was here!)

On the tenth day of Christmas;
the lords are all a leaping.
We hope this tea is soothing
Just before you go to sleeping.

(A cute mug with a reindeer on the handle, Christmas tea and Peppermint and Spice tea....of which I am enjoying a cup right now! At least this one won't cause me to gain any weight!)

We're really enjoying the Secret Santa. It looks more like Mindy all the time. Whoever you are...thank you for brightening each day and giving us something to look forward to.

Today Zach played in the Student vs. Staff game at Pioneer. The kids only lost by 3 points. Sounds like a good game. Quinn and Andrew did the commentary. Oh, I wish I could have heard that! Zach had a lot of fun. We were up too late last night making him a shirt that says:
FRONT: Who's on the attack?
BACK: ZACH ATTACK
Very fun.

Hugs to all of you.
Love, 'Chelle

PS. No the paper did not catch fire...it's just an odd perspective in that picture! :-)

Wednesday, December 14, 2005 11:35 PM CST

Front Page Article in the Walla Walla Union-Bulletin
Concerted Effort

Wednesday, December 14, 2005

Student's Project draws band for benefit Concert: Concerted effort pays of
Wa-Hi senior Tim Johnson wanted to hold a small benefit concert to meet a class requirement, but he got a whole lot more.

By Sheila Hagar of the Union-Bulletin

When Tim Johnson needed a community service project for his U.S. government class, snagging a band for a charitable concert seemed like no big deal, he said.

``I figured I'd get a small local band and do it at The Underground, and that's pretty easy to do,' the Walla Walla High School senior said.

By Tuesday, between tracking down a sound system and distributing fliers, Tim was no longer so certain of how easy his project would be. In his words, ``Things got kinda big.'

Which can happen when you remember that your middle-school music teacher's kid plays in a Los Angeles-based band that's beginning to get some real press and is touring the Pacific Northwest.

Gosling, which hatched from the earlier name of Loudermilk, is a band on the upward move, said Jim McGuinn, owner of Hot Poop. The band has three albums out and another will be released in late spring.

When the band played a concert in 2003 at his Main Street business, it was one of the biggest, best-attended events he's hosted, McGuinn said.

Lead singer Davey Ingersoll, the eldest of eight children, spent some of his early adult years in Walla Walla and the Tri-Cities, said his dad, Dave Ingersoll.

In recent times, Gosling has been featured on Warner Brothers television, MTV and in movies such as Dracula 2000. ``We've had major producers call our house,' the senior Ingersoll said, ``We've had the drummer from Pearl Jam call and say he's heard stories about me.'

The band plays alternative rock
with a sort of ``twisted-Beatles' sound, said Ingersoll.

Ingersoll handed down his musical talent to his firstborn, bringing Davey into the studio as he recorded television and radio advertising jingles.

More recently, the elder Ingersoll uses his gift as the band and choir director of Sager Middle School, which is where he saw musical promise in another band student, a younger Tim Johnson. ``He played bass (guitar) for me. He's always loved rock and roll,' Ingersoll remembered.

Tim, 17, still loves rock and roll - if he doesn't end up as a pilot, playing in a band is the next option on his list - one of the reason's he's pumped about bringing Gosling back to Walla Walla, he said.

But the project, initially begun as a quest for a good grade in a civics class, is allowing Tim to fulfill another love.

He chose to direct his community service requirement to funding brain cancer research through the American Cancer Society.

The concert will be a tribute to Dave Meyer, a Wa-Hi coach and teacher who died of brain cancer in August, Tim said. Meyer played guitar at College Place Presbyterian Church, where the Johnson family attends and where Tim has played guitar at services since he was 8.

The government class project has gone from a ``lot of nothing to quite something,' said Scott Keller of the local American Cancer Society.

Keller laughed.

Perhaps more important than the money the event raises are the lessons Tim Johnson is learning, Keller said.

Agreed, said Bill Plucker, U.S. government teacher at Wa-Hi. ``Tim has run across some tough challenges.'

This is one of the most ambitious projects he's seen a student undertake, Plucker said. Many of the ideals he has for students are coming to fruition through Johnson's experiences, from finding a proper venue for the concert to getting equipment and advertising lined up on time.

The project requires students to focus on an intended outcome, create a schedule and name a goal that shows awareness of civic virtue, he said. ``They have to sacrifice themselves to contribute to the common good, whether that's for their neighborhood, their community, the nation or the world.'

Plucker knows Johnson's original idea has snowballed, almost running the student over at times, he said. But in the end, money will have been raised for a worthy cause, a mentor honored and the young man will have learned putting it all together is - in Johnson's words - ``harder than it sounds.'

For those wishing to help Johnson earn an ``A-plus' and fund cancer research, the Gosling concert will be at Sager Middle School in College Place on Thursday, 7:30 p.m. Admission is $5 at the door.

Tuesday, December 13, 2005 9:20 PM CST

The Manifesto of the Lance Armstrong Foundation

We believe in life.
Your life.
We believe in living every minute of it with every ounce of your being.
And that you must not let cancer take control of it.
We believe in energy: channeled and fierce.
We believe in focus: getting smart and living strong.
Unity is strength. Knowledge is power. Attitude is everything.
This is the Lance Armstrong Foundation.

We kick in the moment you�re diagnosed.
We help you accept the tears. Acknowledge the rage.
We believe in your right to live without pain.
We believe in information. Not pity.
And in straight, open talk about cancer.
With husbands, wives and partners. With kids, friends and neighbors. And the people you live with, work with, cry and laugh with.
This is no time to pull punches.
You�re in the fight of your life.

We�re about the hard stuff.
Like finding the nerve to ask for a second opinion.
And a third, or a fourth, if that�s what it takes.
We�re about getting smart about clinical trials.
And if it comes to it, being in control of how your life ends.
It�s your life. You will have it your way.

We�re about the practical stuff.
Planning for surviving. Banking your sperm. Preserving your fertility. Organizing your finances. Dealing with hospitals, specialists, insurance companies and employers.
It�s knowing your rights.
It�s your life.
Take no prisoners.

We�re about the fight.
We�re your champion on Capitol Hill. Your advocate with the healthcare system. Your sponsor in the research labs.
And we know the fight never ends.
Cancer may leave your body, but it never leaves your life.
This is the Lance Armstrong Foundation.
Founded and inspired by one of the toughest cancer survivors on the planet.

LIVESTRONG�

That is the Lance Armstrong Foundation Manifesto. Powerful words. Powerful thoughts. Many of you know that Dave wore a yellow LIVEstrong bracelet for the last few years, always replacing it when it broke. He believed in what Lance Armstrong was doing for cancer research and admired Lance Armstrong for making his battle with cancer public and using that to inform people and make a difference.

Here's the thing you might not know. Dave read Lance Armstrong's book, It's Not About the Bike." He, well, how shall I put this? He didn't care for the book much. He was diametrically opposed to some of the things that were said. I'm not going to go into detail, I know that some were very inspired by the book, and that's great. Every cancer survivor, every family member, every health care worker that hears Lance's message and is moved to help in some small way or is empowered to keep fighting, every person Lance touches....they are like candles in the darkness, coming together to bring light into a very awful place. That is a good thing.

But let me offer to you,
Dave's Manifesto
Taken from:The Wild Man's Journey: Reflections on Male Spirituality by Richard Rohr & Joseph Martos
1. Life is hard.
Know this ahead of time and do not waste your life trying to make it easy for yourself, as all uninitiated men will try to do. We must be signed with "the cross" ahead of time, or we will spend all our lives avoiding it. "The stone that the builders rejected...has become the cornerstone." Matthew 21:42

2. You are going to die.
Mortality must be made real to the boy by trials, hazing, scarring, facing death and the fear of death. Without a truthful cosmology, we are trapped in our own pathology, and who is to blame for it? All woundings must become "sacred wounds" to prepare us for the final letting go.

3. You are not that important.
The initiate must be rightly situated in the world that demands respect from him, or he will have a false sense of himself that will need constant reassurance (the modern self-esteem movement). Humility is of central importance for human truth and happiness.

4. You are not in control.
The initiate must be led to the limits of his own resources and ability to control outcomes, so he will learn to rely on the Other. It is not a world of unlimited progress, but in fact a limited world. God is in control. We must admit that powerlessness.

5. Your life is not about you.
You are a fragment of something and Somebody much bigger than yourself. Your job is to listen, obey and adore, not calculate. You are a part of a great and holy mystery. Otherwise you will assume that you create all the patterns, and it is your job to figure them out by yourself.

I can't tell you how many times I heard Dave quote these ideas to me. He often said, "Shell, it's not about me." The "life is hard" and "you are not in control" became like private jokes, a shorthand between us.

I'm not as mature as Dave. I would rail on about the unfairness, about the wrongness, about the "why?" of it all. Dave always said, "Shell, it's bigger than that." And "all I can do is walk the path before me the best I can."

Not a serene acceptance of death.
Not a surrender to cancer.
He fought like crazy.
But he trusted the Other completely.
Trusted in the promises.
Trusted in the outcome.

This is what Robin was talking about when he said that Dave would be the first to tell you, he was an ordinary man. This Wild Man book talks about how in youth, we will strive to ascend, to achieve, to rise up. In maturity, we are content to be the patient receiver of the gift, realizing our place in the scheme of all creation. Ironically, it was this sense of humility, this understanding of himself as just a person, that allowed Dave to touch and reach so many. He was not only the receiver of the gift, he was the conduit...passing it on to those around him.

His vision was bigger than mine. Still is.

Love, Shell

Monday, December 12, 2005 8:13 PM CST

Visit this link: Relay For Life
to learn about a Relay for Life fundraiser. You can buy a ticket to try to win the Dave bear!
Image hosted by TinyPic.com

Also, all locals note:
Timm Johnson, a young man from our church, has organized his civics project around a concert to benefit brain cancer research! What a kid! The concert will be
Thursday, December 15 at 7:30 pm at Sager Middle School in College Place, WA.
If you live near here, please try to come!

Okay, onto Secret Santa, but first a Dave story. I told this one to Darlene over lunch today (thank you, Darlene...what a wonderful gift. I love you!) and I told her I was going to get it up on the site, so here it is.

Every year we decorate the tree together. The first Christmas Dave and I spent together, we had a Christmas branch instead of a tree, and we stuck it in a cardboard box and made ornaments out of construction paper. We had no real ornaments and no real money, either. He decided then that we should start a tradition when we had children of getting them an ornament each Christmas, so that when they left home and had their own trees, they'd have at least 18 ornaments to put on it!

So a favorite part of Christmas is pulling out the ornaments and remembering that year...Zach's Harry Potter from the year he read the book and became obsessed. Kenny's Tigger with Soccer Ball ornament from the year he first played soccer. Kate's orange kitten ornament from the year we got Macky.

So I asked the kids, "Do you know which ornament is your Dad's very favorite?"

Zach's guess: "The guitar one that Erik got him."
Kenny's guess: "The Yoda ornament."
Kate's guess: "The mom and dad beavers trying to string the lights."

Wrong. It was McIllvaigh Man. What is a McIllvaigh man, you ask? Well, it is the absolute ugliest ornament on our tree. See?

Image hosted by TinyPic.com

But Dave loved this ornament. It's a little like the Velveteen Rabbit, it looks worn and shabby. I remember it looking like that when it arrived, however. Every year, Dave would hang it front and center. And I would move it to the back of the tree.

See, one of Dave's students gave him that ornament when he taught sixth grade at McIllvaigh. McIllvaigh was a school that was in a gang-infested, poverty-stricken area of Tacoma. And one of these kids, I wish I could remember which one, gave him this ornament. It's his favorite.

So, we hung it on the front of the tree. I looked at it...and decided to move it to the back, where it always was. Sometimes it's the things you can't see that matter the most. I think Dave would approve.

Tonight's Secret Santa:

On the sixth day of Christmas
the geese are all on strike.
We hope you enjoy these almonds
(Perhaps on a hike?)

And a lovely bag with red and green jordan almonds, chocolate covered almonds and butter toffee almonds. Yum!

Blessings to you all.
Love, Chelle

Sunday, December 11, 2005 10:55 PM CST

On the fifth day of Christmas
We bring you this good cheer.
Five golden rings we can't afford
at this special time of year.

Secret Santa strikes again, via Mimi. A lovely bottle of Meier Sparkling Spumante! A fizzy, festive, non-alcoholic treat so we can all enjoy it together.

I'm suspecting Aunt Mindy more and more. These cards look suspiciously like birthday party invitations and birth announcements that I've seen before.

Packaged up and delivered tons of fudge today. Peppermint-chocolate layered, peanut butter/chocolate layered, and Irish Cream. Yummy!

Kenny came back from Leadership Camp. He was walking on air. He was so excited. He obviously had a really great time. He got lots of notes, not only from family, but from teachers and friends. Many notes mentioned how they see Dave in Kenny and how proud they are of him. I'm going to put them in an album for him. By the way, he was impressed that I drove up the mountain.

It's funny, I didn't realize how much I missed him until he got back. I didn't worry about him this time. Cody and Amy were there, I knew he'd be okay, and he LOVES the cold and the snow. Usually I fret (at least a little) when one of my chicks isn't in the nest. I guess one of us is growing up. Maybe both. But it sure was great to see his smiling face come bouncing up the walk!

Kate's better. Rat's nest gone...for the third time! Zach spent the weekend socializing with friends, I have to make an appointment to see him these days.

Hugs to you all,
Chelle

Saturday, December 10, 2005 10:09 PM CST

Hey all,

Well, new hints in the Secret Santa mystery. Today, our neighbor, Mimi delivered the package. So....our Secret Santa must be out of town this weekend. That leaves out Cindy and Deb, since I talked to both of them today. And Lisa, she's still home across the street. Hmmmm....

On the fourth day of Christmas
the calling birds have fled.
We hope you like this frame
that we have brought instead.

Inside a beautiful frame, cherry wood with black inlay. Gorgeous. And it goes perfectly in my house, so....another hint, they've been here before. Hmmm...wonder if Mindy is out of town? Peg denies it's her.

I think it's someone who scrapbooks because the little cards are sooo cute, with borders and stickers and little graphics. But I know a LOT of people who scrapbook.

Okay, let's take a poll. If you think you know who it is, write your vote in the guestbook. Deb votes for Alex, who denies it, but also said I was stupid to ask her over the phone because it's easier to lie over the phone than face-to-face. :-) What a crack-up.

Thanks to all who wrote letters for Kenny. I took them up to Tollgate today. Driving through the snow. By myself. In an unreliable car. EEEEEKKKK!!!! is all I can say about that. But I knew they just had to be there for the closing ceremony tomorrow. So I'm not sure if I'm a lousy mom for forgetting to get the letters in earlier or a great mom for having the guts to drive up a mountain to get them to him. No votes in the guestbook on that one, okay?

I'm trying to get a picture of the HUGE rat's nest in Kate's hair after laying in bed for six days. She's finally feeling better. I know because she's running away from me squealing, and she just stole my camera. Brattiness is a sure sign of returning health.

Love you all, Chelle

Friday, December 9, 2005 6:51 PM CST

Our Secret Santa has uncanny timing. Went to pick up Zach from the PiHi party, and got back....package on the doorstep.

On the third day of Christmas
the French Hens flew away.
We've brought you a Christmas story
to brighten up your day.

Inside: 2 ornaments, some Christmas tree bling bling and "How the Grinch Stole Christmas." Which is Dave's favorite story of all time. He used to watch the listings to watch it on tv. We have it on video, but he thought it was better to wait until the movie was showing on tv and plan for it. Lots of popcorn, lots of snuggling and Dave, in his best grinchy voice:

You're a foul one, Mr. Grinch.
You're a nasty, wasty skunk.
Your heart is full of unwashed socks
Your soul is full of gunk.
Mr. Grinch.

Zach was delighted, looking like a little boy instead of a half-grown man, smiling and laughing, "How did they know?" He also counted the days until Christmas and figured that this Secret Santa must know our schedule, since the 12 days will end just before we leave for Seaside. (Thank you, Ted and Laura for that gift!)

Wow.

Thank you for the lunch, Peggy. The food was wonderful, but the company was even better!

Love you, Chelle

PS. Can you stand one more good thing? Today we all wrote letters to Kenny for the closing ceremony at his camp, and when I asked Z to write one, he said, "What do I write?" And I said, "Just write some of the things that you like about your brother and tell him you love him." Z said, "I don't think I can do that." So I mentally prepared the speech about how there is something to like in everyone, even if they annoy you sometimes and how we sometimes need to search for the positive, yada yada...and Z says, "There are so many things I like about Kenny, how could I chose which ones to write about?" I said (my mind reeling in sudden confusion and awe), "Just pick your top few." Z thought for a minute and said, "They're all my top ones."

Okay, everyone together, "Awwwww!"
What a kid. Both of them.

Friday, December 9, 2005 2:12 PM CST

Okay, folks.
Sit down.
Are you sitting?
I mean it.
Sit down.
Now put down your coffee.
And swallow whatever's in your mouth, we don't want your computer screen spewed upon.
Ready?

GOOD NEWS!

Ha! Bet you didn't expect that!

My dad, hero that he is, knew someone in Kelso at a Toyota dealership. If we can bring the van in there, and prove that it has this problem that Tim at Wayne's Automotive says it has, they will fix it.

Yep. THEY WILL FIX IT!

Free!

Yipee!!!!

Thanks to all of you who prayed for us. Don't stop yet...but it looks like we're on the way!

Love you all, Chelle

Thursday, December 8, 2005 10:01 PM CST

Okay, guys. My pity party is over. For now. I'm sorry, sorry, sorry. I really, truly didn't mean to induce guilt! I didn't. I was just whiny yesterday. And feeling profoundly alone.

It truly does help when people write in, I feel less like I'm in a fishbowl then, and more like I'm sharing with friends. Claudia wrote on her site (link above: Robert Williams) about the power of a witness. The need we have for someone to verify, to affirm, to testify to an event. When we're facing about a life-altering event, like cancer or death or autism, the need for a witness, someone to affirm and verify our reality is so profound. It's easy to feel alone, even when surrounded by people. It's easy to feel that tenuous grip on sanity slipping away. So thank you, for being willing to be my witnesses, there is real power and healing in your very presence.

Still, I apologize for guilting you all and feeling sorry for myself.

Speaking of feeling sorry for oneself, I ordered some buttons that say, "Cancer Sucks." Let me know if you want one!

Joan Didion writes about self-pity in her book, The Year of Magical Thinking.

People in grief think a great deal about self-pity. We worry it, dread it, scourge our thinking for signs of it. We fear that our actions will reveal the condition tellingly described as "dwelling on it." We understand the aversion most of us have to "dwelling on it." Visible mourning reminds us of death, which is construed as unnatural, a failure to manage the situation. "A single person is missing for you, and the whole world is empty," Philippe Aries wrote to the point of this aversion in Western Attitudes toward Death. "But one no longer has the right to say so aloud." We remind ourselves repeatedly that our own loss is nothing compared to the loss experienced (or, the even worse thought, not experienced) by he or she who died; this attempt at corrective thinking serves only to plunge us deeper into the self-regarding deep. (Why didn't I see that, why am I so selfish.) The very language we use when we think about self-pity betrays the deep abhorrence in which we hold it: self-pity is feeling sorry for yourself, self-pity is thumb-sucking, self-pity is boo hoo poor me, self-pity is the condition in which those feeling sorry for themselves indulge, or even wallow. Self-pity remains both the most common and the most universally reviled of our character defects, its pestilential destructiveness accepted as given. ...In fact the grieving have urgent reasons, even an urgent need, to feel sorry for themselves. Husbands walk out, wives walk out, divorces happen, but these husbands and wives leave behind them webs of intact associations, however acrimonious. Only the survivors of a death are truly left alone. The connections that made up their life - both the deep connections and the apparently (until they are broken) insignificant connections - have all vanished. ... I could not count the times during the average day when something would come up that I needed to tell him. This impulse did not end with his death. What ended was the possibility of response....We are repeatedly left, in other words, with no further focus than ourselves, a source from which self-pity naturally flows. ...I remember despising the book Dylan Thomas's widow Caitlin wrote after her husband's death, Leftover Life to Kill. I remember being dismissive of, even censorious about, her "self-pity," her "whining," her "dwelling on it." Leftover Life to Kill was published in 1957. I was twenty-two years old.

I'm still thinking about that. Interesting to me, that my self-pity is okay, but pity from others stings. I'm not sure why that is. It's definitely something I think about. When am I wallowing or dwelling? When am I simply honest? When am I putting on a brave face and denying the reality of what I feel? I'm in an odd space tonight, thinking about feelings rather than actually feeling them.

Thanks, Mike and Lisa for being there to help with the auto wheeling and dealing yet again.

Thanks to our Secret Santa...

Yesterday, a beautiful basket of pears with elegant pear napkins came with this note:

On the first day of Christmas
We bring these pears to you.
We would have brought the partridge
but from the tree it flew.

Today, we got a cute Christmas bag with CHOCOLATE!!! You'll see what kind...

On the second day of Christmas
We bring this gift with love.
Please eat the turtles,
and definitely eat the Dove!

We have no clue who this Secret Santa is. We feel so loved. Thank you, whoever you are!

Love, Chelle

Wednesday, December 7, 2005 5:25 PM CST

(An aside, CaringBridge, amazing CaringBridge...our guestbook finally got big enough that they archived older entries. So....when you go there today, it will only appear that a few people have signed. You can click the link to see the older entries...if it's your first visit to the site, I recommend you read those. They are the most interesting part!)

(Aside #2...speaking of guestbooks...THANK YOU to folks who take time to "sign in, please." I can't tell you what it does for the little sanity I have left. This site gets between 500-800 hits per day, and even given that 100 of those might be me and another 100 might be two or three people who like to obsessively hit the refresh button, and 20 or so are my mom...that's a lot of visitors. But what's with the 2-3 entries a day in the guestbook??? Charlie's talking to the wall. Only a few select folks will get that one. Anyway, I do feel less nuts when you talk back to me!)

Back to your regularly scheduled drivel....er....program:

AAAAARRRRGGGGHHHHH!

Okay, what am I doing wrong?
I've tried to live a good life.
I've made a lot of mistakes, but I'm always sorry.
I try to be a good person.

Somebody's got it in for me.
It's not paranoia if they truly are out to get you, right?

Found out today that my van's engine is kaput.
Kaput.
Zonk.
Dead.
Well, dying.
End of the road.
Going to the great junkyard in the sky.

It's a 2000 Toyota Sienna and has only 65,000 miles on it. Of course, the warranty expired at 60,000 miles.

Sigh.

Maybe instead of talking about crap sandwiches, I should have been busy being grateful for transportation! Sorry, Meshach, for not appreciating you. (Our van's name...as in Shadrack and Abendigo...don't laugh...why can't all Bible names be easy to spell like Adam or Noah?)

Another bite, Judy P?

Okay, gonna go sulk for a while.

Love, Shell

PS. The kicker? Get this. I paid the dern thing off Monday. As in, this past Monday, three days ago.

Still think I'm paranoid?

Maybe I am, because I'm considering removing this entry in case I decide to trade it in!

Sunday, December 4, 2005 0:28 AM CST

Okay, okay, okay. Settle down everyone. I made my bed. You guys are hilarious. I can't believe how many emails I got about sleeping on a mattress. It's made now. You can sleep better tonight. I was sleeping fine. :-)

We got our tree today. We always go to Klicker's and pick one from the field. Mike Klicker was there, and it was great to see him. I even got to talk to Laurie on the phone when she called looking for him. It was cold and muddy, the snow has melted into muck.

Funny aside, Zach predicted this. That the snow would melt and it would rain. Then he said it would snow again in a couple of weeks and do the same thing, but that we'd have a white Christmas. Well, Kate is now convinced that Zach can tell the future. "HOW did he know that, Mom?" "Well, sweetie, that often happens, it was pretty easy to predict." "NO, Mom, he KNEW!" She's very impressed. I told Z the story, and he smiled, then said, "Mom, I was just making stuff up." I said, "Yes, but you're her big brother, she thinks you can do anything." A moment of introspection...Zach looking serious. "I'd better be careful then, huh?" Wow.
Image hosted by TinyPic.com
Looks like an ordinary tree!

So, at Klickers, there was no Dave to say, "Uhhh, guys, that one's way too big."

So we ended up choosing a tree that, once on top of our van, drew some wide-eyed looks. Zach thought it looked like the tree was eating the van.

As we drove up to the house, Zach, humming the Mission Impossible theme song...."Project Xmas: Your mission, should you choose to accept it...get the tree IN the house..."

Easier said than done. We got it halfway in the door, but Kenny, who was kindly holding the screen door open, got stuck. And he was in the way. So we jockeyed him out.

Then we get it in the house. We stand it up. Crunch! "Why does that tree have that big bow in it? It didn't look so crooked in the field." And we realize that the tree is bowed because it won't fit. It's bent like a banana, scraping off half our ceiling.

So I get the stepstool (Thanks, Grandpa Bob!) and Zach gets the handsaw (Thanks, Mike Braddock!) and he cuts the top of the tree off so it will fit. Having never used a saw much before, that was a precarious kind of maneuver, the tree swaying and me trying to keep it upright.

So we finally wedge in into the corner. Now we have the tree that's trying to eat the living room.

Tomorrow we put lights on it. That ought to be fun.

Today, Kenny said to me, "Mom, you're doing a good job. I know it's hard without Dad and you have to be the only one all alone. But you're doing a good job." He was so earnest and so serious. I didn't know whether to laugh or cry, so I did both.

The house is full of kids tonight. I love boy town. They are so funny. Even if they do eat everything in sight.

Love, Shelley

Update: we got the decorations on:
Image hosted by TinyPic.com
Kenny said, "It will never fit!" You can see that even after a second cutting of branches, the angel still tilts quite crazily on the top of the tree, although she is actually pretty sturdy, only because her head is wedged against the ceiling! Kenny thinks it looks like she's going to jump. I said, "No way. Any guardian angel for this family is going to be a heck of a lot stronger than that!"
Image hosted by TinyPic.com
Zach hung Kyle's ornament.

Kate hung our special, secret ornament. Apparently, it involves holding your tongue just right.

The tree looks great....and our living room survived, as long as you don't want to get anywhere in a hurry! See...I can't even get the whole tree in the picture!
Image hosted by TinyPic.com

Just for Cheri and Cathy, my far in distance, close in heart friends. HERE IS THE BED!! You can see the sheets...however, Kate is sick, so she's in the bed, so it's not made-made, but there are sheets on it!

Thanks, Darlene, for being part of that team!

Image hosted by Photobucket.com

Thursday, December 1, 2005 11:33 PM CST

Where do I even start?

Joan Didion (sp?) in her book, "The Year of Magical Thinking," talks about the great divide that is death. She says, people will say, "Oh, he died after a long illness" as if the protracted means of death gives one time to prepare or get ready or lessens the sting somehow. And yet, no matter what, it's like a grand piano falling on you from the sky. She talks about, it was an ordinary moment, and then everything changed. One minute you're fixing dinner. The next your life is irrevokably different. She talks about how every death is sudden. One moment, someone is alive, is here. And then they are not. They are dead. Irreversible. Permanent. Unalterable. From one moment to the next, everything has changed forever. Never, never to be the way it was before.

It's a bleak thought. Bleak and cold, like the snow outside my window.

But it's not as bleak as the quiet desperation that lives within my heart.

Tonight, I finally managed to get some sleep as the kids were doing homework and relaxing. We had gone to Zach's basketball game, watched him make a great steal and sink it, watched PiHi squeak a win over their cross-town rivals, wished Dave was there. Renee said, "You know he sees." I said, "Yes, but I can't see him...can't see that smile, that glint in his eye that says, 'That's my boy!'" But it was a daily, hourly, minute-by-minute missing of Dave, an ache that is familiar to me as the rise and fall of my chest as I breathe, my constant companion, part of me now, like my heartbeat or my skin.

But later, as I was napping, Kate woke me up to tell me that the one working toilet we have was overflowing. And that constant, familiar ache for Dave just exploded. Exploded into a fury. I climbed out of a bed that hasn't had sheets for four days because I just don't care about putting sheets on a bed, to clean up in the bathroom and try to work a plunger that's as foreign to me as a chainsaw, and take towels down to the laundry basket that's overflowing, and walk by the van that JiffyLube has probably ruined and see the snow that I hate to drive in and step on a sticky mess on the kitchen floor and...all I could do was scream. Not on the inside. Out loud. Really loud. Wordless, mindless, screaming, agony and rage.

Three pair of startled eyes stared back at me. They scurried and scrambled and helped. And I cried. Just cried. The kids came and we cried together.

I took out the garbage and walked around in the snow, my footsteps soft and muffled, all sound absorbed by the blanket of white, the light glowing from our windows, making the snow sparkle. I breathed in icy air, deep into my lungs, so deep it hurt.

And I thought, "He's never coming back. Never." And I couldn't bear it. At all. Not at all.

I came back inside, Kenny, Zach and Kate were all subdued. We stood together in the kitchen. Each of us leaning on a different counter, arms folded, eyes averted, waiting, silent tears rolling down my cheeks, the rage quiet for now.

It took a long time. They just waited with me. And I told them how sorry I was that I had frightened them. I talked with them about how sometimes, it's like Jania says, you turn your back on a faucet that has a slow leak, and suddenly, it overflows, seemingly without warning. "The sink is full," she used to say, shaking her wise head. "Sometimes the sink is just full." And today, my sink was full.

"In plain words, it just sucks," I said, sounding not nearly as wise as Jania.

Zach looked around and said, "Pretty much, yeah."

He did that little shake of his head, and looked at us out of the corner of his eye. And we laughed. Pretty much, yeah.

We put the house back together. I spent some time talking with each of them. They are amazing kids. Each of them said, "Mom, it's okay to feel that way. We all miss Dad. It's not your fault. It's okay." They have had some hard lessons, but they have learned well. They are honest and true and courageous. Their feelings are deep, and they are able to manage them, and able to stay present when others are having strong feelings, too. Unafraid to reach out in love, even when things are at their hardest, their stormiest, their scariest...they know about sticking together, about being honest, about love.

They are sleeping now. I am blessed to have them, each one of them.

But I'm lonely. I went down the long list of people I could call. I'm blessed, there are many. But none of them is Dave. That's who I really want to talk to. That's who I need to hold me. I get lots of hugs, and while that's nice, to be honest, it's not even close to what I want or need. Not even close.

Well, except Mark. I could use a Mark hug. It's close to a Dave hug.

You know, sometimes I try to remember Dave's faults. Isn't that weird? I do it to make myself remember that he was a real person, not something I made up. One of his high school classmates, Bryan Stroud, wrote about that once. He said, "I suppose it's natural to idealize people in these situations, but in Dave's case there wasn't much you could idealize.

I inevitably pulled out the yearbook last night. I wasn't exactly in the thick of things at high school and when you go to the index the evidence is right there. By my name there are two page references, one of which was the senior picture. By Dave's there were about 10. He'd been a football team captain, basketball team captain, homecoming king, member of the ASB (Associated Student Body) cabinet, choir, etc. A very talented guy, but most important of all, he wasn't a conceited ass when he easily could have been. He never talked down to anyone. I saw where he was also listed as "most inspirational" on the basketball team. But of course.

Dave went on to follow in his father's (Smilin' Bob, as he was known) footsteps to teach at Walla Walla High School. He was apparently a favorite, just like his dad had been.

When I saw him at the last high school reunion his head was still chopped up from surgery and he talked about the cancer fairly casually. It was discovered by accident, literally. He and his brother had been in a minor car accident and when they were checking him over they discovered it. He called it "Willy Walnut," because that was about the size of the tumor. He was still able to smile about it.

A genuinely good man has left this world."

I know what Bryan means. It's almost unreal. It's easy to remember the good stuff, there was so much about Dave that was beyond good, beyond ordinary, and for me, sometimes it feels like a fantasy, so I try to remember the bad stuff, too. Truly, there isn't much.

Tonight the kids and I were at KFC/A&W, and Kate wouldn't share her rootbeer float with Zach. "Just like Dad," he grumbled. And we all had a good laugh about how Dad never did like to share food.

And he was unbearably cheerful in the morning.

And he didn't know how to fix a damn thing.

And he wouldn't make phone calls. Ever.

And it took him 20 minutes to put in his contacts.

And he never changed the oil in the cars.

And he couldn't keep a secret.

And he wouldn't put Christmas lights on the house.

And never listened when he was playing his guitar.

And he trimmed his beard and left whiskers all over the sink.

And he called me ShelleyBelly.

And he would never hurry.

And he would never make a decision if he could avoid it.

And he got mad when I put more garbage into the can that was already full.

And he trusted everyone.

And he would obsess over random details, like finding a 3 cent error in the checkbook.

And he used to sing silly little songs when you were trying to be serious.

And he would never defend himself.

And he left little yellow sticky notes everywhere.

And he left glasses of milk in the freezer.

And he entered every sweepstakes that came in the mail. And bought the magazines, too.

See, he was real. And he was the best. There was nothing about him that I didn't love completely. And I'd give anything to have him back. Anything.

Love, Shelley
who is off to her unmade bed, to sleep on a bare mattress, alone.

PS. A few corrections: Willy the Walnut was actually the size of the residual tumor after surgery....the original tumor was the size of a tennis ball. And the car accident that Dave called minor...they rolled and totalled the van, but did have only minor injuries.

And I found out that Dave's Rock at WaHi, was not 3,500 lbs. It's actually over 3.5 TONS! 7,500 lbs. WOW!

Tuesday, November 29, 2005 1:12 AM CST

Well, we made it through Thanksgiving. That's about it. We made it through.

It was hard. Just as hard as I expected. Harder in some ways.

Dave was missing at every corner. Denise and I kept looking at each other, saying, "Dave would love this." There was no Dave to do funny things to the turkey, no Dave to get in the way when I was making dill rolls (which I didn't make), no Dave to say a prayer before the meal, no Dave to remind us what we were gathering for, no Dave to fight with Dad over the peach pie, no Dzve to dance silly dances, sliding through the kitchen. No goofy hats. No unexpected hugs. No toll gates. No shouts at the football games. No sense of wonder. No child-like delight. No Dave.

Just a hollow feeling. The sense of something missing. Someone missing. Us missing someone.

It was good to see Denise, Darren and kids as well as my mom and dad. We were glad to be with them again, it was far too long. The kids were elated to be together again. Uncle Rufus and Shelly came for dinner, which was great.

On Friday, we saw Disney on Ice. The show was Finding Nemo. It was wonderful. The kids had such a great time, wearing Nemo hats and Bruce hats. Eating $10.00 snowcones from turtle cups and watching the skaters with wide eyes. When Goofy skated out, Denise and I looked at each other, and tried to smile.

We got to see Kari, one of the first Whitman students to work with Kenny, when he was four, five and six years old. It was wonderful to see her. I was proud of Kenny, he's grown and changed so much, and I was glad that Kari got to see him, to see all the work that she did so many years ago paying off in so many, many ways. We ate dinner at the Old Spaghetti Factory. Dave and I were both working at OSF when we began dating, so that was another moment where I could scarcely believe he wasn't there. I kept looking for that smile. Looking for that gleam of pride in his eye as Kenny talked to Kari. Kenny who was the little guy that Kari helped learn to put words together into sentences. I wanted Dave there, to remember with me, how far Kenny's come. He's the only one who really knows. The only one besides me.

We got to see Erik, Evy, Canute and Sonja as well as Mark and Christina in Seattle. It was wonderful, we've missed them so. They've stuck closer than anyone throughout the past two years. They are our family. Check out the picture of Zach and Sonja at the end of the page, and you'll get some kind of idea of how much love there is.

But it was the first time we gathered without Dave. It was a strange feeling, stranger than I expected. Our family is like a chair with one leg sheared off, shorter than the rest. The damage means we no longer sit easily. We shift and tilt and try to find the balance we used to have. We try to find a new way to belong in the places that we love, with the people that we love, but it's a shift we don't understand how to make yet. We've found some kind of equilibrium when it's just us, but if you add anyone to the mix, the hole is so prominent, we're at a loss. I find myself stuck, not wanting to move, feeling hollow, brittle and scared.

But I'm learning. And trying. So I'm grateful for that.

I did find much to be thankful for this holiday. I am trying to make that be enough. But it's not. It's just not. Every thing that Dave misses, every moment that we need him and he's not there...it's just not enough. People try to help. They remind me of all the good things. Don't they know that I'd trade all of that and more to have him back here with us where he belongs, where he fought to be? I find myself saying, "Yes, but..." Yes, we have wonderful memories, but we don't get to make any more. Yes, he's in a wonderful place, but we wish he was here with us. Yes, people are supportive, but they aren't Dave. Yes, we were so so lucky to have had him at all, but we want him still.

Kendrie's mom shares a story she wrote last Thanksgiving, which is pretty funny, but also dead on. Click here for Kendrie's Website

Friday, November 28, 2003 0:21 AM CST
KRISTIE'S PATHETIC, LAME, COMPLETELY RIDICULOUS CANCER/THANKSGIVING ANALOGY:

First of all, I have to say how much we appreciate those of you who check on this web site and take the time to sign the guestbook. Several of you, and some who have e-mailed me privately, have made the comment you are glad to see me (try to!) put a humorous spin on things, and that you�re glad to know we�re coping so well. To be honest, I have no idea if we�re coping well at all. I just make it a point to do my crying and worrying and stressing in private, and put on a happy face, USUALLY, in public. But today, in this journal entry, I�m going to be a little more honest about things and the way I am really feeling. I�m not sure what has brought about this pathetic moment of self-introspection, but feel the need to get some things off my chest. If you don�t want to hear it, exit now, it won�t hurt my feelings. I promise to kick myself in the butt and be back to normal tomorrow. (No, I will not be taking volunteers for the chance to kick me, so all of you just put your hands down now. No, no, do NOT form a line!)

I think it�s the whole Thanksgiving holiday. Thanksgiving. Giving thanks. Something I�ve found pretty easy to do most years, and took for granted pretty much every year up until now. Sure, I know a little bit about worrying about the health of family members. Who doesn�t? My dad has muscular dystrophy. My mother-in-law is on dialysis for renal failure. My husband had two major surgeries to get rid of a cancerous tumor six months ago, and had a nice chunk of the inside of his head removed at the same time --- reconstruction still a work in progress. So I thought I was a veteran at worrying, but always managed to give thanks irregardless. WRONG. Nothing prepares you for the fear and worry when your child is ill. More than ill. Ill with a disease that, even in this day and age, still claims innocent victims. And now you want me to give thanks????? So here�s the lame analogy I came up with:

Imagine every year for Thanksgiving that you and your family go to a wonderful all-you-can-eat buffet. The food is always great and you look forward to getting the same delicious meal, year after year. So this year, you give your standard order to the waitress: an appetizer of �love�, a �caring� salad, the side dishes, �thoughtfulness� �compassion� and �laughter� and a big, juicy entr�e of �good health and happiness for everyone�. The waitress brings you everything you asked for but the entr�e. Instead, in front of you on the table, she places a big, fat crap sandwich. And the conversation goes a little something like this:

You: �excuse me, I didn�t order this crap sandwich�

Waitress: �house special. You got it without asking�

You: �but I don�t want a crap sandwich. I want good health and happiness for everyone.�

Waitress: �well, you got a crap sandwich.�

You (getting upset) �well take it back and give me what I asked for instead!�

Waitress points to a sign that says �Absolutely NO substitutions�

You say adamantly: �there is positively no way I am going to be able to choke down this crap sandwich and I think it�s really unfair for you to expect me to�

And the waitress replies �hey, look. You�ve still got love, caring, thoughtfulness, compassion and laughter, so try to appreciate those. Oh, I almost forgot, here�s your condiment tray for the crap sandwich. You also get big overflowing bowls of fear, worry, anger, guilt and resentment. Bon Appetit!�

And so you�re looking around the restaurant, feeling really grumpy about your crap sandwich, and you realize that there are a lot more people with crap sandwiches than you ever thought possible. And from the looks on their faces, none of them ordered them, either. Then you see a couple of tables with really, really big, Dagwood-sized crap sandwiches and you summon the waitress again. �Excuse me, why are their crap sandwiches so big?� And she explains that those people are facing situations even worse than yours. Their kids haven�t responded well to treatment, have had cancer relapses, or worse yet, died. And you start to think maybe your crap sandwich isn�t so bad after all. Maybe you should keep your big mouth shut, choke it down, and be glad when it�s all gone and everyone is well again. And then, right then, your waitress reminds you of one last thing: �Management reserves the right to serve you another, bigger crap sandwich, anytime they want�

That�s a little how I feel right now at Thanksgiving, living in this surreal world of leukemia. I know there are other people who are having a rougher time of things than we are. I know Kendrie is responding well to her chemotherapy. She is in remission and God willing, will stay there. But I am having a very difficult time Giving Thanks for this crap sandwich, and I�m unbelievably resentful that there are more crap sandwiches being made in the kitchen even as I type this, and terrified more than you can possibly know that our family might be due another platter.

I resent that �in remission� doesn�t mean cured. It doesn�t mean anywhere near cured. It means cured for right now. Today. Kendrie could relapse tomorrow; next week; next month; ten years from now. When are we ever supposed to relax? When will this knot in my stomach go away? It�s the last worry on my mind at night and the first thought in my head when I awake each morning.

I resent that for the rest of her (my) life, every time she complains of an ache or a pain or runs a fever, I will fear that the cancer has returned. Prognosis is no where near as good for kids who have relapsed. Dear God, don�t let her relapse.

I resent that I can no longer brush her forehead or cheek without covertly checking for signs of a fever.

I resent that despite my best intentions, my other two kids are getting the short end. There are only so many hours in a day.

I resent that I am so tired, and then feel frustrated with Kendrie for being the source of that, then feel ashamed of my frustration.

I resent that I saw Kellen had bruises on his shins tonight and for a split second, all I could think was �Dear God, not two of them.� It does happen; two kids in one family. What family could endure that? The ones that have to, I guess.

And that�s my point --- to all of you who say, �I don�t know how you do it� or �I don�t think I could do it� Well, of course you could. Do we have any choice? We do it because to do otherwise would be to shortchange Kendrie, and all the kids with cancer, which simply isn�t an option. And I try to do it with a little bit of grace and humor and optimism because quite frankly, if I wrote too many journal entries like this, I would depress the shit out of everyone, myself included. In fact, I don�t know what I hope to accomplish with this one, except maybe trying to explain that underneath the jokes and �looking on the bright side� is a terror so real that sometimes I lie in bed at night and can�t breathe. And I�m not trying to be overly dramatic. I�m trying to be honest. Leukemia kills children. Yes, the �cure� rate is 85 percent (For ALL, which is what Kendrie has. Other kinds have lower rates than that.) That means 15 percent still die up front, and the other 85 percent ONLY have to worry about a relapse for the rest of their life. I�m feeling a little sick to my stomach just typing all this, so maybe I should move on.

There are some things I am truly grateful for:

I am grateful that it looks like a CVS pharmacy exploded in my kitchen. That means there are drugs that can be used in an attempt to cure my child and beat leukemia.

I am grateful Kendrie has tolerated the treatment so well so far. I am grateful for remission.

I am grateful my husband has a good job with good insurance and that so far, finances are not one more worry to add into the rest of this.

I am grateful for the friends and family, both near and far, who have supported us so kindly, and who will read through this awful journal entry and love me anyway.

I am grateful that when Kendrie was diagnosed, my mother was able to drop everything to come to Georgia and be with us. I am grateful that my dad and my sister so willingly held down the fort in her absence.

I am grateful my husband had cancer this spring. Had he not, he wouldn�t have been placed on the �Do Not Deploy� list and he would have been in Sarejavo when Kendrie was diagnosed. As hard as that week was, I am grateful we were able to face it as a family.

I can�t come up with a reason to be grateful that Kendrie is going bald, but I�ll work on it.

I am grateful that my crap sandwich isn�t any bigger than it is.

So, like Kristie, I'm grateful my crap sandwich isn't any bigger than it is. I've choked down a lot. More than some, less than others. When you get past a certain point comparisons are useless. It's all crap.

I'm trying to focus on what I am grateful for.

I'm grateful for the three children I have left on this earth,they are my heart.
I'm grateful for my son in heaven, he taught me how to be a mommy and how to survive even when...
I'm grateful that I have family and friends that care, far beyond what I deserve.
I'm grateful to live in a town that loves like no other.
I'm grateful that I had the honor and priviledge of loving Dave for a million reasons.
And I'm grateful for the God I believe in, who promises not to leave me or forsake me.
Love to all of you, 'Chelle

Here are some pictures:

Image hosted by TinyPic.com All the kids, posing with Bruce the shark.

Zach and Kenny with Kari.

The guys.

Luke with his Nemo hat.

Jake, too cool for words. I LOVE this kid!

Kate and Sonja, better known as JK, "Are you sure we're not related?"

Kenny, Zach and Canute.

This picture is worth a thousand words. How hard it is to leave.

Wednesday, November 23, 2005 10:33 PM CST

Okay, I was wrong. I am grateful. For all of you. You are such steadfast supporters, always there in deed, thought and prayer. I am thankful. I am thankful that I got to have Dave in my life at all, even though it was far too short. Many, many blessings have come our way, and I am indeed grateful.

And yet, still, there is this part of me that screams....TAKE IT ALL AND GIVE DAVE BACK! Talking to Claudia, she said something that resonates with me...for instance, yesterday, I wanted to get back in bed, pull the covers over my head and wait. Wait for him to come home. I wanted to say, "Okay, God, I'm done. I did well, I've been strong, I passed the test. Now give him back."

Three months. Three months. A quarter of a year.

That "quarter" does weird things to my mind. I keep thinking about when Doug (Dave's college best friend) brought me a cake with the word "HAPPY" and all these squiggles on it. He had made it himself. Two-layer, leaning, frosted in mounds of buttercream...with these little red marks on the top. Looked like chicken scratch. I puzzled and puzzled. Finally Doug said..."HAPPY quarter of a century!" The squiggles were the top 1/4 of the letters in the word CENTURY. Dave laughed until he had tears running down his face.

Now, a quarter of a year without Dave. It feels like a quarter of a century. No, it feels like a whole century. It's been forever without him.

We rode in the car today, on the way to Denise's house, and the version of "I'm Already There" by Lonestar with the wives and children of the soldiers talking on it came on. "Daddy, when are you coming home?" "Daddy, we miss you." "Daddy, be safe and come back to us."

Driving down the freeway, all four of us cried, tears streaming down our faces.

I'm already there
Don't make a sound
I'm the beat in your heart
I'm the moonlight shining down
I'm the whisper in the wind
And I'll be there until the end
Can you feel the love that we share
Oh, I'm already there

He is. He isn't. How I wish he was.

Love, Shelley

PS. I'm also grateful for Blue Devil football and all the people that make it what it is. More about that tomorrow.

Monday, November 21, 2005 1:39 AM CST

I found this note from Dave today. Not the first time. Not the first time I've seen this note, it's been tucked away for years. And not the first time I've found a note from Dave since he died. I've found many. Hundreds probably. Dave was a note-leaver. On the bathroom mirror, under my pillow, in my pockets, on my windshield. His love language was "acts of service." And that was how he showed his love. By doing the little things, things that showed he cared.

When I got ready to leave the house in winter, I'd find my windshield already scraped.

When I stayed up late, and Dave was already asleep, I'd find my toothbrush sitting next to the sink, toothpaste already applied, and my contact case waiting there, too.

When he was gone late to football games, he'd leave messages on the answering machine, singing songs, so I'd be able to hear his voice when I got home.

I can't tell you how much I miss him. I debated about putting this note on the website. But if you read it, maybe you'll understand just a little better how impossible it is to adjust to life without this man.

Now that he is, face-to-face with God, I wonder what he's saying. I wonder if he knows how much we miss him, how much I miss him. I know he knows how much we love him, how much I love him.

Image hosted by TinyPic.com

Tears today. Lots of tears.
Thanksgiving's around the corner. And I'm not grateful. I'm not.
Love, Shell

Thursday, November 17, 2005 7:57 PM CST

Image hosted by TinyPic.com

That should say, "Kate."

We love you all.
'Chelle

Tuesday, November 15, 2005 11:16 PM CST

Hello everyone,
Just a quick note. Zach had his first basketball game today. To check his schedule, click here: PiHi 8th Grade Schedule

Kate is enjoying choir and dance at school and preparing for her dance recital at Cordiner Hall on December 17. She seems to be doing well with not having to switch schools and feels more secure.

Kenny is trying out for basketball at WaHi. I'm quite proud of him, because there must be at least 40 freshmen in there, and only room for about 24 players on the teams. He's working hard.

Watch the paper, everyone, on Thursday, I put a note to you all in there, with a pic of Dave. I'm working on the handwritten "Thank You" notes, but with tendonitis in my right arm and 600 to write, progress is extremely s...l...o...w! I apologize for that. I hope you know how very much all your support is appreciated.

Thanks Wendye for the soup, "Spouting once, spouting twice, spouting chicken soup with rice!"

Thanks, Erik & Evy, Mark & Christina for the phone call. Hearing your voices filled my heart. I miss you all so much.

Must sleep.
Love, Shell

Tuesday, November 8, 2005 8:31 PM CST

NEW ALBUMS WITH ALL THE ROCK PHOTOS, ALL THE COUG PHOTOS AND ALL THE TOUCHDOWN PHOTOS--CLICK ON THE FAMILY PHOTO LINK ABOVE (THE YAHOO ONE)

Union-Bulletin article entitled "Rock Solid Tribute"

Bear with me, this page keeps getting revised as I learn more of the story behind this awesome memorial. Keep checking to be sure you've read the latest version.

Another amazing, heart-warming, gut-wrenching day in this journey. Val told me to bring the kids and be at the WaHi gym at 3:30. We gather, the day crisp, clear and cool, the sun shining brightly, not a cloud in sight. Football season is over, bringing a sense of sadness coupled with a new freedom. Anticipation fills the air. As this huge flatbed semi pulls into the parking lot, with a mysterious, huge lump wrapped in plastic on the back, I find myself looking for Dave, truly expecting him to come jogging out from behind the weight room, keys jingling, the ever-present bounce in his step..."Did I miss anything?"

Val "Applebutter" Cole, and the class of 1981 got this giant rock to put on WaHi's campus. Karla Broughton, Dave Cochrane, Joe Golden and Lisa Pontorolo were there today, too. Val, Joy Cunnington Moniz and Scott Young had picked out this rock. Joy tells the story of going through a field of huge boulders, testing out each one, laughing and crying and asking Dave, "This one?" They got the right one. This rock is 3,500 pounds! A huge crane lifted it from the truck (carried it right over my van!) and gently placed it on the grass, just outside the entrance to the gym.

Image hosted by TinyPic.com

The kids pulled off the black tarp to reveal the most beautiful rock, etched with Dave's name, the WaHi emblem, a basketball #22, a football helmet, plus his guitar. Not just a generic guitar, but his friend, his companion...his guitar. (Recognize your photo, Evy?)

Here's a pic:

Image hosted by TinyPic.com

It was overwhelming and beautiful. I had a hard time looking at people, I was scared to slow down and let myself feel. I held together okay, until I hugged Skip, who walked through the valley with us. Val talked a little, dedicating the rock to Dave and giving our family the Class of '81 donations. We held hands in a circle, Skip prayed, Lisa commended Val on pulling it all together so beautifully.

Image hosted by TinyPic.com

It's so fitting that there be something of Dave at WaHi. The people at WaHi meant so much to Dave. He loved that place. He gave his all, as a student, as a coach, as a teacher. He was proud to be a Blue Devil. He was involved in ASB, he was homecoming king, class speaker, football and basketball co-captain, involved in Chamber Singers, drama and an excellent student. He loved it at WaHi, he wanted to be involved in everything, and know everyone. He loved the class of '81. He carried that love and school pride into his teaching there.

The rock is perfect. It's big enough for kids to climb on. And our kids certainly were climbing, wrestling, cavorting around--with Matt and Doug, of course! Mindy looked at them and said, "You know Dave would be right in there." I know he would love this. Dave always said, "Stand on the Rock." His foundation was always secure. Dave was my rock, my steadfast protector, my fortress, my hiding place. He never faltered, never wavered. The man was as solid as this rock. I'm not the only one that drew strength from his constant faith and his abiding love. Touching the face of the rock, so deeply etched, designed to weather any storm, in any age, from now until forever, I was reminded of Dave. I saw many people tenderly trail their fingers over Dave's name, clearly they felt it, too.

One of our favorite songs by the Shepherd's Staff:

Put my feet on the Rock,
A firm place to stand,
Put a song in my mouth
And now I lift up my hands

The rock, like my bracelet, says:

FAITH HOPE LOVE
THE GREATEST OF THESE IS LOVE

Dave showed us that love, every day, in so many ways. Each day brings new memories. It's conference week, and I remember Dave, bounding out the door to conferences, eating dinner on the go, looking forward to the night, never complaining, wanting to meet the families of his students. Wanting to find a way for each student to succeed. And most importantly, making sure that each student felt valued, felt cared about, felt loved.

Do a Dave thing. Go let somebody know that you love them. Especially if they are hard to love. The ones who are the least loveable need it the most. "Make it a great day." (DM after Coach Frosty at PLU.) Do a Dave thing...and remember.

Last week the WaHi choirs had their first concert of the year, under the direction of Norb Rossi. The last song was in memory of Dave, "I Will Lift Mine Eyes." Music, another place where Dave gave so freely, and now WaHi remembers. Just like homecoming, Dave always read these goofy poems announcing the court, this year, Ron read one for Dave. WaHi remembers. Football players with DM wristbands. Students with gray brain tumor bracelets and yellow LIVEstrong bands. WaHi remembers.

Thank you, Val. Thank you Class of '81.
Thanks to all the people that supported this incredible effort in one way or another:
(The list was big: if I missed you, let me know! Any errors are mine and entirely unintentional.)
Special thanks to Lloyd Cunnington of Thompson Monuments and to Dave and Charlie Konen of Koncrete Industries and Konen Rock. Thanks to Dave Cochrane of Konen Industries.
Thanks to school district administrators and plant facilities staff for your efforts and cooperation.
And to the Class of '81 members:
Val Applebee Cole
Thomas Beebe
Scott Young
Joy Cunnington Moniz
Lisa Webb Pontorolo
Karla Griffin Broughton
Vickie Kibler
Tim Towner
Tammy Toon Cordoza
Tammy Buccarelli Sprengal
Steve and Laurie Jordan
Craig Nelson
Janalee Croft Davis
Dave Cochrane
Joe Golden
Stephanie Edwards Plowman
"Stella" Cheryl Hansen
Sarah Williams Dahger
Roger Zander
Robin Clayton Thomas
Rick Tuttle
Rick Anglin
Brad Springer
Ray Hansen
Mike and Laurie Klicker
Mike Lucarelli
Marlit Stevens Stubb
Marla Fitzsimmons
Mark and Lisa Klicker
Margaret Noble Jackson
Denise Richmond Habash
Lori Gardener
Lori Deeringhoff Wahl
Lori and Matt Tucker
Lance Jacky
Lori Long Hinton
Linda Hapner Clark
Laura Rau
Kim Gugliemelli
Kevin and Kirsten Pribilsky
Kelly Thompson
Kay Gugliemelli
Kathy Lopez Yancey
Jenny Lloyd Charlo
Gretchen Mann
Dave Neissl
Cindy Pederson
Chip and Roxanne Lake
Cathy and John Hair
Carri Aichele-Klein
Bob Case
Becky Girsberger Janis

Thank you for making this possible. Thank you for the donations for the children. I wish I had better words to let you know, how much this means, how your gift honors Dave, how truly grateful we are, how loved we feel. How important it is to us that you all remember.

There are many places in this world that are wondrous, but none come close to this town...Walla Walla, a small town, in the middle of the wheat fields, where love is something you can touch.

Love, Chelle

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Here are some TOUCHDOWN photos!
THANK YOU KEVEN PECK!

GO BIG BLUE!!!

Thank you, WaHi coaches and players. We love you all!

Tuesday, November 8, 2005 2:22 AM CST

CaringBridge is acting funny, I know the guestbook is taking a long time to load. I saved all the journal entries and all the guestbook entries to a cd, just in case. I tried to change the background to COUG colors, but the button says "create page" instead of "update page" so I'm afraid to click it and lose everything. I lost all the formatting of the front page, but was able to retrieve it from history, whew!

Zach and Tiff had a ton of fun at the Cougar game, we were all jealous. Kenny and Zach get to go next weekend with Uncle Bob and Granpa Bob. The girls are getting pedicures.

Conference week already. Whew, that was fast. The kids all have stellar report cards. Amazing. I'm very proud of them, since many, many times the last thing any of us feel like doing is what needs to be done. And in comparison to the monumental task of learning to live without Dave, schoolwork, housework...all those daily things just seem pretty insignificant. We're doing it. But it remains hard. Was thinking today, we don't eat at the table any more. It's just too hard. That empty chair, that space where Dave should be. None of us can face it. So we often eat in my bed. It's cozy family time, if a bit unconventional. And my sheets are clean all the time now. I have to wash them practically every day because it's hard to sleep among green beans and mashed potatoes!

Val Cole and the Class of '81 have some kind of surprise planned at WaHi tomorrow at 3:30. I'll let you know what it is. Val got me a bracelet...it says: FAITH HOPE LOVE Yes, I think, everytime I look at it. Faith, hope, love. So tonight, that is my prayer for you all, my friends. Faith, hope, and love.

Love, Chelle

Friday, November 4, 2005 1:24 AM CST

Wow, what a couple of weeks it's been.
Kate came down with the flu. Nothing like a sick kid to bring everything into sharp relief. Everything is put on hold. Nothing matters but the moment, no matter what else is going on, it waits. It was hard. Not just for all the usual reasons, but because I was so alone. Dave was the sick-kid-guy. Nobody is better at cleaning the carpet, rinsing the towels, bringing a cool cloth, running to 7-11 for gatorade, running to WaHi in the middle of the night to be sure there were plans for his class for the next day. As a teacher, Dave had sick leave and a substitute system to call on. At the college, for most years, I didn't have benefits, and we don't have a sub pool. If I'm gone, my supervisor covers my classes or we cancel. So, Dave has been the stay-at-home-rock-the-sick-baby Daddy for years. So, as I'm holding Kate's hair back so she can throw up at 4 am, I just cry. I cried because I was so alone. No reassuring smiles over her head. No-one to run for the washcloth. No-one to pat me on the back and tell me what a good mom I am. No-one to share the load. No-one that even knew it was happening. In the scope of it all, it's such a small thing. Kate is back to her happy, bouncy self. It wasn't really such an earth-shattering thing, just a sick kiddo. But it all came crashing down on me. That stark realization. It's just me. Lots of people can help with lots of things, but when it comes down to the wire, now it's just me. And if you know me, you know I've never been one to duck responsibility or pass the buck, but in that moment, I wanted to scream and run and hide. I didn't. I won't. But I did cry. And feel alone. And, actually, yes, feel sorry for myself.

Then I got the bug, sort of. We're pretty run down around here. By the time we get home, it's late. By the time we process any emotion that's been kind of waiting all day, it's even later. By the time we calm down to sleep, it's too late. I've been running on sheer adrenaline for months. It's bound to catch up with us. I spent Monday sleeping. Then we had the gang here for Halloween. Another first without Dave. It doesn't get any easier. He would have loved it. The big boys were chasing each other through the neighborhood and jumping out to scare their little sisters. Everyone was dressed up in crazy costumes. Good food, good people. I watched, thought about last year. Same people, all together. Except one. We've been through so much in the last year. So much has changed. Even us. Maybe especially us. But there is much that hasn't been lost. And I hang on to that.

I want to take a minute to thank a couple of people who have really come forward to support our kids. Matt Stroe, who picks up Kenny for school every day. I know that Kenny looks forward to seeing Matt every morning, that those 10 minutes have grown to be some of the most important minutes of his day, that he counts on that time, that connection. That he sees Matt as someone he can trust and talk to. And Bryan Eggart, who has started a bible study on Tuesdays with Zach and two of his friends. I know that Zach counts on Bryan and looks forward to Tuesdays as a safe place. Dave was always on the lookout for refugees...people, especially kids, who needed a place to be, and someone to be there for them, in small ways...and he would find a way to do that. Matt and Bryan, thank you for doing the same for our boys, for being men of action, not just words, for doing more than you have to do.

Onto the newsy stuff....Zach decided to play basketball this year. I was glad. He seems to feel better and do better overall when he's involved in a sport. He was worried, especially with his leg injury (seems to be healing nicely), but he made varsity. He's feeling unsure about that, feeling like there are some guys on jv that are better players than he is. I'm glad he's on varsity only because we don't have to get him to school at 6 am! We're having enough trouble with 8 am!

Kate and I talked at length. She's really feeling the need for more stability in her life, and was feeling very disjointed with all the coming and going of the Explorer program. So I met with her teachers, who are so supportive and understanding, and we decided to have her take a leave of absence until after the holidays. Kate said, "Good, that will be after Dad's birthday." She seems to be glad to be able to settle in one place for now. Although we spent the last two nights with her hounding me to make a multiplication problem big enough that she couldn't do it. HA. One week out of the program and she's driving me crazy! That inquisitive mind is simply relentless. I'll be glad when she gets back to it. I think I'll ask Karen to send her the homework anyway!

Kenny & the WaHi frosh had their last game of the season tonight. They lost to Southridge in a big way, but played with heart. Kenny didn't get to play in the regular game, but they played a 5th quarter, so that some kids who don't get much play time in the regular game can play. They engineered a play especially for Kenny, and the QB threw him the ball and he ran for a touchdown! It was awesome. He was so excited. The team just mobbed him and he spiked the ball and the kids lifted him up in the air, shouting, "Kenny! Kenny!" He was beaming. I was shouting and crying. Dave would have been so proud of him. And he would have been so proud of all those kids. They have really rallied around Kenny. All season, those coaches and those players have done so much more than they had to for Kenny. They did more than just let him on the team, more than just include him. They supported him, encouraged him, made him part of the team. They helped him find a way to feel close to his dad, to make football without Dave somehow bearable. When people say, "I don't know what this world is coming to, kids these days..." I can look on that field and know that our world will be okay. I can trust these kids with my son. They're honorable, caring young men. They say the measure of a society is how it treats its most vulnerable citizens...the children, the elderly, the sick and the disabled. So I know, that at least in Walla Walla, the future is bright. Get on your shades.

Love you. 'Chelle (you see, I had to change the spelling of Shell to match my two friends who follow...so we can be the 3 C's!)

Please pray for Lou, hubby of my city mouse friend on the 58th floor, Cathy. His MRI showed slight growth, they're making decisions about what to do. I remember those days of too many options, no good or clear options, and the awesome responsibility of making monumental decisions without any kind of guide under huge time pressure. Pray for Cathy, for wisdom and discernment and for peace as she tries to find answers that don't seem to exist.

Please pray for Cheri and Fred. They are losing their family pet today. When it rains, it pours. Seems like some of us go through more umbrellas than others. They have a daughter just about Kate's age, who is sad and struggling with the changes in Dad. And Cheri is trying to reassure her daughter, and care for Fred, and work with the doctors to figure out what's causing what symptoms.

Also pray for reassurance and confidence for my friend, who is the best mom.

Praise God for answered prayer for another friend.

Friday, November 4, 2005 1:24 AM CST

Tuesday, November 1, 2005 11:28 PM CST

Music Video Codes by VideoCodeZone.com

Dare You To Move
by Switchfoot

Welcome to the planet
Welcome to existence
Everyone's here
Everyone's here
Everybody's watching you now
Everybody waits for you now
What happens next?
What happens next?

I dare you to move
I dare you to move
I dare you to lift yourself up off the floor
I dare you to move
I dare you to move
Like today never happened
Today never happened before

Welcome to the fallout
Welcome to resistance
The tension is here
The tension is here
Between who you are and who you could be
Between how it is and how it should be

I dare you to move
I dare you to move
I dare you to lift yourself up off the floor
I dare you to move
I dare you to move
Like today never happened
Today never happened

Maybe redemption has stories to tell
Maybe forgiveness is right where you fell
Where can you run to escape from yourself?
Where you gonna go?
Where you gonna go?
Salvation is here

I dare you to move
I dare you to move
I dare you to lift yourself
Lift yourself up off the floor
I dare you to move
I dare you to move
Like today never happened
Today never happened
Today never happened
Today never happened before

Saturday, October 29, 2005 12:03 AM CDT

New photos today, October 29, 2005. Both on the caringbridge site photo page and at the Yahoo photo link...click on the Halloween 05 album.

Cry Out to Jesus
by Third Day

To everyone who's lost someone they love
Long before it was their time
You feel like the days you had were not enough
When you said goodbye

And to all of the people with burdens and pains
Keeping you back from your life
You believe that there's nothing and there is no one
Who can make it right

There is hope for the helpless
Rest for the weary
Love for the broken heart
There is grace and forgiveness
Mercy and healing
He'll meet you wherever you are
Cry out to Jesus, Cry out to Jesus

For the marriage that's struggling just to hang on
They lost all of their faith in love
They've done all they can to make it right again
Still it's not enough

For the ones who can't break the addictions and chains
You try to give up but you come back again
Just remember that you're not alone in your shame
And your suffering

When you're lonely
And it feels like the whole world is falling on you
You just reach out, you just cry out to Jesus
Cry to Jesus

To the widow who struggles with being alone
Wiping the tears from her eyes
For the children around the world without a home
Say a prayer tonight

Monday, October 24, 2005 3:17 AM CDT

I need to find some time to write.

After the numbness of denial, and the outcry that is bargaining...anger is the next phase. I've been there. Off and on for a week or so. It's a hard phase to write about. Especially when I'm mad at everyone and no-one. Nobody wins, no matter what they say. Alex knows what I mean. It's hard to explain. It's this feeling that...well, one part of my brain says, "Shell, if you're mad at EVERYONE, perhaps the common denominator is YOU." And the other part of my brain says, "So what's your point?" It's like when we were going through the diagnosis process with Kenny. I'd call my mom and say, "Gosh, I'm really worried about Kenny. (Insert example of odd Kenny behavior here)." And if Mom said, "Honey, I think you're doing this right, you should go get it checked, you're such an aware, thoughtful mom." I'd seethe..."How can she even imply there's something wrong with my child." If however, she said, "Honey, Kenny is wonderful, he's perfect, just yesterday you were telling me how smart he was with that puzzle, I'm sure he's fine, all moms worry." I'd jump all over that..."Don't you take my concerns seriously? Aren't you listening at all??" Z and I were talking about that wounded animal reaction, that feeling of irrational, defensive, protective rage that can be triggered by the smallest of things. It's funny how I can sit outside myself and say, yep, this is exactly what you'd expect...and still have it consume me. Unfortunately, awareness doesn't give us an avenue around the pain. Hopefully an understanding of what it is and how to walk through it. But no free passes.

An example.

On an internet listserve I belong to (one devoted to parenting-not the brain tumor ones), about a week and a half ago...women were complaining about their husbands. Oh, they leave wet towels on the floor and the toilet seat up and don't change a diaper right and whine if their wives go out to a movie. I want to scream at them. I really do. I want to shriek and throw things that break loudly. Don't they know how lucky they are to have their husbands there?? I'd give anything to have Dave here to leave a wet towel on the floor.

Not really a good example, since Dave never did any of those things that were listed...but I'll give you this one. Last week, after a particularly rotten day, when 20 or 30 things went wrong before noon and I thought I was going to have to call a taxi to get Z to the doctor because all those people who say, call me if I can do anything, couldn't....the garbage disposal backed up. I stood in my kitchen and cried. I felt abandoned. And I wanted to yell, "Dave, where are you?" Which is actually kind of funny, because Dave is the last person on earth who would have a clue about how to fix a garbage disposal. But I would have given anything to have him standing there in the kitchen, with that perplexed look on his face, holding a screwdriver in one hand, shrugging with the other, being absolutely no help at all, saying, "Hon, I don't exactly know what you expect me to do...I'll take a look at it, but you'd better call my dad."

Luckily, Cindy came by, called Mike and he bailed me out of a truckload of spaghetti stuck in the drain. And Tiffany got Z to the doctor-thank you, Timm! His quad appears to have a tear, so he'll be out for a few weeks. Didn't get to play in the big final game against cross-town rivals at Garrison. (We won!) This injury did happen on a td run against Richland, though, so as Z says, "At least I got the 6 points!" Z's season is over. Tiffany and I both got teary when, after the game, the PiHi and Garrison players all took a knee around their coaches in the center of the field then raised their helmets together and shouted "WaHi!" They'll all be together next year. Basketball starts Monday. Z wasn't going to play school ball or AAU, but something happened over the weekend. Q, Jake and Paul were here overnight, boy town was fun, but man, they can pack away a LOT of food! (Thanks Deb, for keeping the late hours with me and for caring.) Anyway, now Z wants to play. I don't know what changed his mind overnight, but I'm glad. He seems to do better overall when he's in a sport. Pray for protection for him as he plays; he's gotta learn to hear pain as his body's message to stop!

Kenny has two more weeks of football left. We had his IEP last week. Another first without Dave. Things are going well for him at WaHi, and it seems that most of the programming that's in place for him is a good fit. He wants to play basketball again this year.

Kate is fighting a cold, but having fun with dance, choir and school dance team. She's thinking of dropping Explorers (her TAG program), she loves the program, loves the challenge, but feels unsettled spending that time outside the regular classroom, I think she's yearning for a home base and some stability. We're all meeting about it tomorrow. Please pray that we'll make the right decisions to support her best. I'd hate for her to lose the academic challenges and opportunities that Explorers provides, but her emotional well-being has to take priority.

Had a nice brunch with Bob and Judy today, thank you. Then we went to the farm to carve pumpkins and eat along with our church family. It was so good to be there. I'm up most nights and have been having a hard time getting up on weekends, so it was good to have an afternoon event. Wish Dave had been there...he never minded pumpkin slime. I hate it.

Anyway, back to the original story. If you are lucky enough to have your husband today, nag him a little less, appreciate what he does well, be grateful for him, and hug him once for me, okay?

More about anger later. I managed to skirt the big stuff in this entry, it will come when it's time. Shelley

PS. Thanks, Alex and Lisa...for being there during a very tough, lonely week, for not forgetting that for me, it's not over. It's just beginning.

Saturday, October 22, 2005 7:56 PM CDT

Music Video Codes by VideoCodeZone.com

To hear the song click on the play button above. You'll have to click the stop button on Dave's song or you'll have two songs going at once.

"Be My Escape"
Relient K

I�ve given up on giving up slowly, I�m blending in so
You won�t even know me apart from this whole world that shares my fate
This one last bullet you mention is my one last shot at redemption
because I know to live you must give your life away
And I�ve been housing all this doubt and insecurity and
I�ve been locked inside that house all the while You hold the key
And I�ve been dying to get out and that might be the death of me
And even though, there�s no way in knowing where to go, promise I�m going because
I gotta get outta here
I�m stuck inside this rut that I fell into by mistake
I gotta get outta here
And I�m begging You, I�m begging You, I�m begging You to be my escape.

I�m giving up on doing this alone now
Cause I�ve failed and I�m ready to be shown how
He�s told me the way and I�m trying to get there
And this life sentence that I�m serving
I admit that I�m every bit deserving
But the beauty of grace is that it makes life not fair

Cause I�ve been housing all this doubt and insecurity and
I�ve been locked inside that house all the while You hold the key
And I�ve been dying to get out and that might be the death of me
And even though, there�s no way in knowing where to go, promise I�m going because
I gotta get outta here
Cause I�m afraid that this complacency is something I can�t shake
I gotta get outta here
And I�m begging You, I�m begging You, I�m begging You to be my escape.

I am a hostage to my own humanity
Self detained and forced to live in this mess I�ve made
And all I�m asking is for You to do what You can with me
But I can�t ask You to give what You already gave

Cause I�ve been housing all this doubt and insecurity and
I�ve been locked inside that house all the while you hold the key
And I�ve been dying to get out and that might be the death of me
And even though, there�s no way in knowing where to go, promise I�m going because
I�ve gotta get outta here
I�m stuck inside this rut that I fell into by mistake
I�ve gotta get outta here
And I�m begging You, I�m begging You, I�m begging
You to be my escape.

I fought You for so long
I should have let You in
Oh how we regret those things we do
And all I was trying to do was save my own skin
But so were You

So were You

Thursday, October 20, 2005 5:36 PM CDT

Lots of emotional stuff to write, will update those issues tonight, I think....

But on the business end:

1. DVD's of the service, which include the heartfelt songs that Erik and Mark wrote and sang for Dave, the worship songs that Dave loved sung by Jeffrey, Patrice and Shane, Amazing Grace led by Hannah, and Forever with the children doing the hand motions, and of course, the magical picture and music show pulled together by Jeffrey...will be available soon. It costs Jeffrey about $8 in supplies to make each DVD.

We'd like to have an idea of how many we'll be needing, so if you want one, please let me know ASAP. If you can afford the $8, you can get that to me. If you can't, and want one, there has been a donation to help out in those situations.

A huge thank you to Jeffrey. He's done so much for us. The time and energy and love he has put into this project is a reflection of the love he and Dave had for one another and for their Lord. It's truly awe-inspiring.

2. As far as donations, an update for you all. The Big Blue Booster Dave Meyer Memorial Scholarship Fund is over $2000. This fund will benefit students at WaHi. The Dave Meyer Children Educational Trust is over $9000. Jim Hayner helped us structure that fund so that it would be protected and used only for the children's educational expenses. People have been incredibly generous and we are so grateful.

Thank you all. S

PS. Please pray for some of the BT wives and their husbands:

Kari, link above for Kevin Terry...Kevin is really fighting, struggling, they just got bad news on the last MRI.

Cathy, my dancing friend on the 58th floor, her husband Lou is on a new trial.

Cheri, my cheerleader mom friend in CA, her husband is on a new chemo. I'll ask her if I can post Fred's site here. Site is above: Fred Schappert.

These are valiant women, standing beside the men they love, living life in the trenches of this battle every day, raising children, researching treatments, caring for their families, and keeping hope alive, and yet still finding time, energy and love enough to support me. Join me in praying for them and their famiies. Pray for a cure...we can't lose one more father, son, brother, husband to this disease.

(later)
Too late. I got on the list tonight, it's 12:45 or so, and found out that a man named David died day before yesterday. I don't know him or his family well, just talked with his wife a few times, as they seemed to be walking just a few steps behind us for the past few months. David was 38. His children are 7 and 5. He never gave up hope and used his situation to reach out to others. Sound familiar? Too familiar. It has to stop. My prayers go out to his wife, Felicia, tonight.

Saturday, October 8, 2005 12:01 AM CDT

Whew! Well that little entry created quite a flurry, didn't it? LOL. Well, I guess most of you don't know how much of a flurry, because you don't get the private e-mails. Side bar....it would be good for those e-mails to go public. Grief, this journey through an alien, barren landscape, is universal. Most have walked a similar path. Each path is different, but there are commonalities in our experiences, threads as Jeffrey calls them, echoes...my feelings, my thoughts echoed in someone else's story. Some choose not to share or to share with a select few. Their right, their call, their decision. But I do know that the sharing of these stories brings understanding, brings connection to others, and opens the way for God to be present. "Whenever two or more are gathered"....we cannot do this alone.

So that is a part of the reason that I share, that connection, touching that universal archetype within us all. It's not the most important reason. This journal, which began as a way to convey information, grew into the story of an incredibly loving and courageous man and how powerfully he touched the people around him. It has changed again, into the story of my heart. It is a way for me to preserve these days, these feelings, these stories for my children. As they grow, they will want to remember. This is a way for them to know what happened, a way for them to recall what it was like.

Every day, I consider taking it off the web, making it something private, for my children. So far, I haven�t felt the need to do that. The responses I receive indicate that this journal touches a nerve for many, that it gives people a way to not only offer caring to us, but to further examine some of these issues in their own lives, their own relationships, to stop and remember what is of real value. It�s a small echo of Dave. Every day he shared himself with his students, his friends, his family. He was real with what was happening, the good and the bad. He always found a way to direct our eyes and our hearts toward God. God is the river, Dave is the rock, this journal is the ripples across the surface of the water.

In this effort, I strive for honesty above all else. It is tempting to "pretty up" the pictures, to gloss over the hard parts, to focus on the beauty. Our culture expects that. In some ways, we expect ourselves to be less than human. There cannot be full love without the risk of searing pain. A person like Dave, in life, gave so very much. It makes sense that there is a huge wound now that he's gone.

As a therapist and psychologist, I find people�s responses to that pain interesting, fascinating. As a person, I find some responses comforting and some less so. But all are made in love, and I feel that. Some are quick to assure me that what I feel is normal. Some resonate with what I�m feeling. Some are made anxious by it. Some draw parallels to their own experiences. Some pray for me. Some make assumptions. Some are frightened for me. Some are probably frightened BY me, although no-one's said that yet! Some offer advice or books. Some search for meaning. Some have encouraged me to not apologize for my anger. I don�t feel apologetic for feeling. Emotions are what make us human, all emotions. Some want to take away my pain or ease my burden, and realize that they can�t; that in most respects, the work of this journey is left for me to do. I can reach out for support and help, and I do. I�m not laboring under the delusion that I have to do this alone. I can�t. The work is mine, only I can do it, but I have support in doing that work. Some clearly think that I have lost my mind, and are worried about me. I�m okay, really. Really. I�m okay, in the way a woman in labor is okay.

When a woman gives birth, it hurts. It�s painful. It�s scary, especially if it�s the first time. She can get help and support and comfort from those around her, but the real work only she can accomplish. It�s exhausting and all-consuming. There are times when she feels like she simply can�t do this another minute. Sometimes she screams or cries or gets a wild look in her eye. Sometimes she says, �Just make it stop. I can�t do this anymore.� Those around her feel helpless and frantic. Then she reaches deep within herself, finds that reserve, holds her husband�s hand and musters the energy to move things one step further. This cycle can happen over and over again. And in the end, she�s got a gift beyond all measure, a sense of relief, and immense pride in herself.

The analogy is imperfect, as all analogies are. For one, there is no epidural for loss! The tunnel of grief is longer and more convoluted. Knowing when you�ve reached the �end� is impossible. The rewards are less tangible. The reasons less clear. But all-in-all, the gist holds. It�s a labor of love. And it�s perfectly natural and perfectly ordinary, and astoundingly miraculous and extraordinary all in one.

We tend, as a culture, to shy away from the hard parts, the ugly parts, the less than perfect moments. In movies, the laboring mom, with perfect make-up, hollers a little, her husband wipes her brow, and �Oh, it�s a boy!� and there are beautiful smiles. Most moms kind of roll their eyes, knowing what the reality for most is truly like.

Our culture glosses over reality. We are uncomfortable with pain. We teach it early. We pick up babies who fall and say, �There, there, it�s okay.� Nope. It�s not okay. They hurt. How much more real, more validating would it be if we could say, �Oh, that hurt. I�m right here.� We want to stop two year olds from feeling angry. How much better if we can acknowledge their anger, their burgeoning sense of self, and help them learn to use the power in their feelings positively instead of telling them not to feel it. We have trouble when our children feel sad. We numb them with tv. We fix them with cookies. We tell our teenagers they are over-reacting when they pout or seethe or express angst over their friendships and the state of the world. We laugh at their �drama� and call them moody. As a people, we generally do a lousy job of being able to tolerate hurt and anger and pain and grief�.the whole �negative� spectrum of human emotion. We want to fix it immediately, and make it all better. And while it�s important that we are making progress, that we aren�t stuck, it�s just as essential not to skip over the steps�the denial, the bargaining, the anger, the sadness�.these are essential before the acceptance. These are cyclical; they return in a spiral, we revisit old stages at new levels over time.

My hope is to teach my children about this spiral. To allow them their feelings, all of them. To let them know that joy and pain are simply two sides of the same coin. That in truly experiencing the joy of life, they will be open to the hurt. They will have to risk in order to fully love. And to learn that the risk is worth it. And to learn that the biggest gift we can give to someone who hurts is to walk with them, to allow them to feel, allow them to express. And to do the same in times of joy and celebration. And to allow others to do this for you. This is friendship. This is love. This is a gift from their father, who loved without any reservation about the risk. Every time. A man who was unafraid to love. A man who was unafraid to cry. A man who was unafraid to stand up for the ideas and people and the God he believed in.

Missy said something very profound at the game yesterday. She shared about a man who said that time doesn't really change anything, or heal anything, we just learn to carry the burden differently. That resonated with me. After almost 17 years, Kyle's death is still there, the hole still the same, the hurt as deep and as piercing as it was that first day, but I have learned to live with it, around it, through it. I carry it differently than I did.

Now there is new learning to do. Thank you all, for listening, for caring, and for walking with me as I learn a new thing...or maybe it's an old thing in a new way...again.

Love, Shelley

Thursday, October 6, 2005 1:56 AM CDT

This is awful.
It's worse than I could have imagined.
It's simply indescribable.

I'm falling apart. I can't do this anymore. We're a mess. A mess. I can't think. I can't feel. I can't see.

Kenny had his 15th birthday. Dave's not here. How can that be?

Homecoming, spirit week, football...the things he loved, and he's not here.

I guess the numbness is lifting.

We're struggling. There just isn't room for anything but this grief, this empty feeling. People don't understand. They've already adjusted. Gone on. Kenny, Zach, Kate and I are on hold. Waiting for something that will never come. Trying to grasp that. Living in a world we no longer recognize. A landscape where emotion swirls past us and through us, overwhelming us, making us feel no longer part of anything.

The resilience of children is a gift and a curse. Middle school is the worst. Some of Zach's friends have accused him of being moody and mean and unpredictable. Gee, I wonder why. (For his part, he does admit to being mean, in particular when pushed to talk about things he doesn't want to talk about, and saying some things he regrets...we spent a lot of time on alternatives....) People can't understand. They don't grasp it. I don't think I grasp it. They're back to normal. We're not. We'll never be. There's this huge hole inside of us, and it SCREAMS all the time. All the time. Most of the time I manage it, most of the time the kids do, too. That in itself is a miracle.

I guess I just feel crazy, insane, inside. And I'm pretending to be normal, like a real person. The edges are blurred. The line between real and unreal wavers and falters. I no longer feel sure of anything. I am adrift, without my anchor. Without a place to stand. Without a place to belong.

And I'm angry, too. Angry that we have to face this, that we have to find a way through it. Angry that there are people who don't understand. Angry that horrible people keep living when Dave is dead. Angry that there are people who don't appreciate what they have. Angry at God. Angry that homework and dishes and laundry still have to be done. Angry that Osama Bin Laden didn't get a brain tumor instead of Dave.

There are so many pictures that fly through my mind.

Some of Dave. His smile. His laugh. The spring in his step. His voice. Then...the horrible ones come...him trying so hard to eat...laughing at himself when he fell, trying to make light of something so ominous...clenching his teeth against the suction machine...mouthing words with no voice...whispering "I'm sorry" ...telling his dad after the seizure..."I'm glad it's me and not you." And Bob saying, "You don't know how many times I've prayed the opposite." And Dave saying, "Yes, I do." Before long, I have to force my mind away.

I drift to pictures of other people...

Calling Zach home from Idaho on Saturday, telling him he needed to be here. Seeing his face, when he saw how much worse his dad was in just a few days. Watching the realization dawn.

Kenny, always so frank, "I just see the life going out of him."

Kate, sitting with me on the hallway floor on Friday, asking, "WHEN is Daddy going to get better this time?" Deep breath, "Honey, I'm not sure he's going to." Momentary silence, holding her breath. Then the wall came up. "Oh," she says, "Can I still go to Katie's sleep over?" Me, terrified that she wouldn't face it, she was refusing to see what she saw.

Then Zach came home. And Kate let herself feel. She was waiting for him. Deb came over. We took turns, holding the kids, talking with them, giving them time with Dave, walking through it, answering questions, telling them what they needed to hear, knowing they'd remember this forever. It was such hard work. At the time, I couldn't have imagined anything harder.

The night before Dave died, the boys went to bed. Kate wouldn't. She wouldn't settle, wouldn't lay down, wouldn't budge. Finally, I'm exasperated. "You've GOT to get some sleep!" I shout. "But, Mom, I just want every minute with him I can have." I relent. Dave was running a fever, so we put a cool cloth on his head, rubbed his head and neck, put down the sides of the bed so we could snuggle him. We lit the unity candle from our wedding. And Kate talked.

Mommy, what happens to your body when you die?
Mommy, what is heaven like?
Do animals go there?
Why do people get cancer?
Why doesn't God answer every prayer?
What will happen when Daddy dies?
Why can't we call 911?
Why can't they give him different medicine?
How can it be Christmas if Daddy isn't here?
Will I always remember him?
Does God hear me?

And a million other questions. We talked until 4:00 am. Talked and talked and loved Dave. We read to him from his bible, we played his favorite music. Finally, her eyes were so heavy. I said, "Baby, it's okay to rest." She said, "Mama, will you watch him?" "Yes, I'll watch him." "Mama, will you wake me?" "Yes, if anything changes, I'll wake you."

She laid down on the couch. I laid on the floor, between the couch and Dave's bed. We slept. I woke at 6:00 am. Dave's breathing was so shallow, his heart rate so fast. He was hot with fever, so I stroked his head, cooled him down, talked to him a bit. Knew it was close. Tried to stay awake, but slept.

At 8:00 am, Kate jumped up and bolted from the couch, leaping over me. She ran to Dave, put her hands on his head and said, "Mommy, is he breathing?" Adrenaline was rushing through my body, I put my hand on his chest, thought I felt a faint breath, put my hand on his throat, maybe a flutter of a pulse, he was still so hot. Then another slight movement of his chest, then nothing.

It wasn't scary, it wasn't painful, it was quiet, and peaceful. And awful, this horrible, insidious slipping away.

I would have missed it. But Kate knew. Jim said that Dave must have nudged her on his way by. Somehow she knew.

The unity candle was folding in on itself. I blew it out. She and I spent some time with Dave, crying, talking. Then we woke Zach. We had some more time together, then Kenny came in from the motor home. We had some more time with just us. The four of us, together with Dave, riding that first wave of grief. The shock, the intensity, the finality. Then a bit of calm.

And my sister and her family came downstairs. The first wave for them. Kenny, Zach and Kate were in a calm state, and were able to hug and comfort their cousins. At one point, Amy was sitting on my mom's lap, crying and crying. Zach watched for a minute, then picked her up, held her to his chest and rocked her until she calmed. Just as he later did at the service. Such a tender moment. Darren, wearing Dave's shirt, hugging Kenny. Jake's blue, blue eyes, full of tears.

We held each other, we cried. Eventually we made phone calls. Ron made the announcement at Cordiner Hall, where all district staff were assembled.

We bathed Dave, annointed him with oil, dressed him in his new Blue Devil football shirt, his coaching whistle and his Goofy hat. Then we prayed.

Later, when the funeral home came to take Dave's body, the children were all at the foot of the stairs, sure they didn't want to be present when that happened, but wanting to be close by. As we wheeled Dave out, I looked down the stairs, the kids were all intertwined, tangled together, holding onto one another, a dozen eyes watching as one. I knew then, they'd be able to count on each other. The worst had happened, and they were making it through, leaning on each other.

I'm not sure why I'm telling this story. Maybe to try to reconnect with that feeling I had that day. The feeling that somehow, some way, it would be okay again. I've lost that feeling now.

Please pray for me. Love, Shelley

PS. Also, please pray for my friend. God knows who she is and what she needs.

Monday, October 3, 2005 11:05 AM CDT

****NEW PHOTOS OF KENNY'S BIRTHDAY ON THE YAHOO SITE--SEE LINK ABOVE****

Life is rolling along.

Football. Football is good. Got a pic of Kenny and Matt, I�ll scan it in, it�s worth a thousand words.

The WaHi Journal did a big article on Dave, with the famous Greg Lehman photo of Dave and Kate on the front page. There was a picture of Dave and Zach on the back page. Kenny was sad that there wasn't a picture of him and his dad, especially since he is the WaHi student. It was a loving tribute and included a lot of letters about and to Dave.

I�m going to post another letter here. This is a letter that I found in Dave�s wallet. He carried it for quite some time. It�s folded, dog-eared, and worn, and notes are written all over the outside of the paper. It was obviously important to Dave, something he read many times over. Inside:

Dear Mr. Meyer,
I�m sitting here, thinking about what to write. There�s so many things I want to say to you. At the beginning of the year you told us, well asked us, if we could meet anyone in the world, who would it be. Well, to tell you the truth, I met that man my freshman year. He�s you. You are probably one of the most brave, caring, strong, and inspiring men I�ve ever met. No matter how much you hurt, how tired you were, you always had a smile on your face. You�ve taught me to be a better, care-free person. To not take anything for granted because it could all be taken away from you in the blink of an eye. I will be proud if I grow up to be half the man you are. I won�t lose hope. Since you first told us about your tumor coming back, I kept telling myself, �God, please carry him through our graduation, and far beyond.� I�m still praying for you, every day. I fell closer to you, more than any teacher I�ve ever had. This is probably the hardest letter I�ve ever had to write. Everything happens for a reason, right? I just wish pain wouldn�t come without a reason. I love you, Mr. Meyer. My prayers and thoughts are with you.
Love always,
A

I don�t have his permission to post this, so I�ll just put his initial. Obviously, a fabulous kid. Now in college. Thanks, A, for telling Dave. Thanks for telling him when he was still here, able to feel it. I know he treasured your words, as he treasured you.

We had Kenny�s family birthday party on Saturday. We went bowling. The kids were doing the Fred Flintstone bowling style, in honor of Dave. It was fun, but like Kenny said that night. �It was different, it wasn�t the same. It wasn�t as good.� Kenny always seems to hit that nail square on the head, doesn�t he?

Kendra and the church youth group threw Kenny a surprise party last night. He was thrilled beyond belief. They had cake and decorations and a Miami Dolphins pi�ata and music and presents and cards. Wow. What great people. And, Kendra, you�re a gem. Thank you so much.

Sunday, September 25, 2005 11:49 AM CDT

A month. It's been a month. Has it really been a month? Can it have only been a month?

Some days are so hard. I read my last entry...."I couldn't do this without you." And I think, "Am I really doing this?" The answer is no, not really. I look like I'm doing this. I'm doing what needs to be done. But I don't really feel here.

The numbness, this self-protective shell is all encompassing, it infiltrates everything. I remember it so well. When Kyle died. When Kenny was diagnosed with autism. I remember shortly after that, holding Zach at his first birthday, smiling and clapping and helping him open presents and blow out candles. In the pictures, in the video, I look like any other mommy. I remember feeling dead inside, wondering if I would ever, ever feel anything that resembled "happy" again.

But you do, you find your way back. I work with toddlers. I watch them learn to walk. They fall and they cry and they fall again. I've often thought, "If I fell that many times, I'd just give up and keep crawling." But they don't. They get up again and again until they've got it. And so will I.

In the meantime, nothing really seems very important. In comparison to the huge whirlwind of desolation that I know lies beneath the numbness, I find little motivation for anything else.

It takes enormous amounts of energy to learn to live without him. And I'm not even there yet. I'm not learning to live without him yet. I'm learning to stay alive without him. That's all I can do. I say and do all the things I'm supposed to, but inside there's this sense of being on hold. I wonder how this world can keep on spinning, madly, wildly as it always has, when for me, it's stopped.

People say "how are you doing? how are the kids?" I laugh inside. There are no answers to those questions. People ask them because there really isn't anything else to say. I say I'm getting through the days. One at a time. And I am. That's all. I don't seem to have room to return phone calls, answer e-mails or write thank you cards. But at the end of the day, I'm still here. That's something.

Two of the hardest days have passed. My birthday, two days after Dave died. Our anniversary, last Tuesday, September 20. 19 years. Deb and I went to dinner, ordered our husband's favorites, then came home and watched the video of Dave and my wedding. We laughed watching it. The music was beautiful, Mark and Erik singing. Dave's song for me...."I want to grow older with you, make each day a dream come true, love has slowly created one from two. Can't wait to spend the rest of my life, growing older with you." The funny part was Dave and I talking to each other, the whole way through. Aren't you supposed to be quiet up there? Dave and I were talking, laughing, smiling.

I'm going to try to post some pictures from the service on the caringbridge photo page...click the link above.

Monday, September 19, 2005 11:59 PM CDT

Moms Camp Out

Lisa, Mimi and I took the kids, well except Zach and Drew, who had a b-day party to go to and were chicken to camp with the moms!....we went just for overnight. We had a wonderful time, the kids splashed in the water, we sat around the campfire, we slept on tree roots that worked their way through air matresses. The weather was perfect and the dirty eggs were the best food I've tasted in a long time.

Arrival was sketchy. We went to Fishhook...closed. We went to Charbonneau...full. Finally, we found a space at Hood Park. Whew. Thought we were going to have to go back to all the guys who weren't sure we could pitch our own tents with a failed mission. We pulled into the campsite, beautiful, right on the water. Moms unloaded gear, kids ran to the water. Moments later, Kate and Allie come running up the hill. "Mom, look at this rock!" I'm thinking, "Seen one rock, seen 'em all." So I glance over and begin to say something like, "In a minute, honey...." and she and Allie both insist that Lisa and I look RIGHT NOW. Kate holds out a rock. It's a roundish rock, broken in half. An ordinary rock. On its side it says:
DAVE
Really. The rock says Dave. Someone had written on it in green marker. And Allie found a shell. So we had Dave and Shell at the campsite. Mike was disappointed, 'cause he couldn't go, but Dave got to.

Other happenings:

Kenny has had 3 football games. In Yakima, in Lewiston, and in Walla Walla. Their team is undefeated. Kenny's got to play in all the games. He believes that they save him for the last quarter so he can come in and save the game. Cracks me up. We should all have so much confidence. He has a date for homecoming. A very sweet girl named Kendra. She goes to our church and is on the volleyball team. She's terrific. She wore a shirt to Kenny's home game with his name and number on it. At the home game, when Kenny went into the game (5th quarter), half the crowd exploded, cheering for him, and the guys on the sidelines started chanting his name. It was awesome.

Zach had his first football game last Thursday. Pioneer won 48-6. Zach was soooo fired up. I have never seen him like that. Our theory was that he was playing LOUD so his Dad would be sure to hear him. He was excited...and played incredibly well. He had two touchdowns, several sacks, two really long runs and ran for a ton of yardage. He was named one of the players of the game, which meant he got to be on the sidelines with the WaHi varsity team when they played on Friday night. It was great to see him down there on the field, walking among the players, just like his Dad did. Although Dave never had to carry water.

Kate's started dance, and is loving it as always. Dance recital is December 17 at Cordiner Hall for those of you who need to mark calendars. She's excited for choir and dance team at school to get started. She's enjoying school and loving her new teacher.

I went back to work today. It was good to be there. Thought I'd do a few hours. Ended up working most of the day. It was good to be busy with things that were interesting. It was good to see the little preschool faces coming back, having grown so much over the summer. Toddlers start tomorrow. I can't wait for that.

Thanks, camping buddies. It was the perfect cap to a miserable summer. Just what I needed.

Love, Shelley

PS. You won't believe this. I completely emptied Kate's room and started from scratch, got it cleaned and organized. Did the same with the garage. Thanks, Alex, the "Clean Sweep" with latte was fun. Thanks, Cindy for the truck. Thanks, Mike, for running a used carlot across the street. Thanks, Matt, for getting Kenny to school. Thanks, Cyndi, for getting Kate home from dance. Wow, there are so many people to thank. You are the best. I couldn't do this without you.

Saturday, September 10, 2005 8:45 PM CDT

Yesterday, Alex came to visit. I found out that Dave's ashes were ready to pick up. Alex said, "Are you going alone? You can't go alone." So we talked for a while, and she agreed to go with me. I'm so grateful, the experience was so surreal. I know I would have felt so empty to be in that place by myself. Instead, I had Alex, keeping me grounded, keeping me sane, reminding me I wasn't alone.

We picked up the wooden box, surprisingly heavy, with a little clink...the fish symbol Dave always wore. The box is lighter wood with an inlaid cross of darker wood. The box is smooth and simple. Alex and I found ourselves touching it, stroking the surface. It was somehow irresistable. Warm and comforting and beautiful, kind of like Dave himself.

Alex and I talked about ashes, and what you do with them. She talked about her Dad. I felt so unready to decide, and Alex helped me see that it was okay to take my time. After hearing her, I felt decidedly less "creepy" about keeping the box here. I wondered how the children would react. They were just like Alex and I, drawn in, needing to touch it. Kenny, especially, touches the box every time he goes by. It reminds me of when Dave would sleep in the living room, and we would stroke his head or give him a kiss as we went by. It's good to have something to touch.

Kyle's ashes are in a blue marble box, buried in Gig Harbor. I'm unsure what I'll do, but I'd like for them to be together. Weird, since they already are. I feel better about being able to take my time, thanks, Alex. I love you.

We are getting through the days. Some times are hard. Some times are okay. The grief comes in waves. Crashing over us, sometimes little by little, sometimes all at once, then receding, leaving us drained, but cleansed. Like the beach, there are sneaker waves, things that hit us unexpectedly, things you just aren't prepared for. Like seeing that Dave was cremated on my birthday, and that date is on the bottom of his box. I didn't know what I felt...my eyes flew to Alex. She held my arm. The wave came, then retreated.

Our house feels empty now. Dave, in life, was such an incredible, awesome presence, that, in death, his absence is huge. Huge and loud. The house echoes with the missing of him. Things feel hollow sometimes. I find myself listening for Dave, for the jingle of his keys, the spring in his step, the strum of his guitar, the song of praise, the deep laugh. I find myself looking for Dave, a blue and white jacket, a pair of sunglasses below a baseball cap, a doo-rag, a whistle, a smile. I find myself feeling for him, in giant hugs, soft touches, high-fives. There are echoes of him everywhere. Zach strums his guitar. Kenny laughs deeply. Kate hums as she works. I tell myself it's enough. It has to be enough. It's not.

Kate holds her little pink heart pillow. She gave it to Dave when he went in the hospital in May. It never left his side. He slept with it every night. She says, "It smells like Daddy." She won't sleep with it, because then it might smell like her. I found her crying one day. She thought it was losing its smell, so we found a sweatshirt of Dave's and wrapped the pillow in his shirt overnight, to refresh the Daddy smell. What will I do when it fades for good?

There are still many beautiful stories to tell of Dave's last days and hours. Some have heard them on the phone, but here....I can't do it yet. I don't know why. Words, phrases and stories, these are my friends, my ways of coping. But some places I can't go yet.

I am so grateful to be surrounded by such loving people. The calls, visits, cards, e-mails....so caring, so sustaining. Such nice things people say. I have had many people say that I'm strong, that I'm amazing, that I'm inspiring.

Okay, guys, here's the real deal. I'm not. I'm really not. I'm not strong. But I do know how to lean well. Thank you for being people I can lean on. I'm not amazing. But I do know how to be honest and real and how to feel. Thanks for caring about that. I'm not inspiring. But I do know how to get out of the way, to allow a process to happen as it is meant to, and like Dave, to let things happen through me. Thanks for being part of this. Some have said I'm brave. I'll take that. I am brave. Sometimes I'm scared, but I decide to reach out anyway. It's not easy, but it's the only way I know. Dave and I learned a lot about being honest and risking and connecting and what it takes to make relationships real in the moment. We learned it the hard way, through Kyle, but we never lost it. Dave used to say, "Life is 10 percent what happens to you and 90 percent what you choose to do about it." There is no day but today. I don't do this as an example. It's not the "right" way. There is no "right" way. Each must find their own way. This journal started out as a way to convey information when we were out of town for treatments. Along the way it's become something else entirely. I'm still not sure what it is, only that I'm grateful for the company along the way, and I'm grateful for the chance to share some parts of Dave with you, and I'm grateful to God for seeing us all through.

Love you all, Shelley

This song speaks to my heart today. I encourage you to go to www.air1.com to listen to some of this music that I've been posting, it's powerful to hear.

"A Little More" by Skillet

Love is all around you now
So take a hold
Hidden in our words
It sometimes ain't enough
Don't suffocate day after day
It's building up
Cause when you're feeling weak
You know I'm strong enough

Just one more day
One more day

Oh, let the world crash
Love can take it
Oh, let the world come crashing down
Oh, let the world crash
Love can take it
Love can take a little
Love can give a little more

Love is indestructible
So take a hold
Sometimes hard to find
A reason good enough
I'll stand beside you
Never leave through it all
And faith will bring a way
To the impossible

Just one more day
One more day

Oh, let the world crash
Love can take it
Oh, let the world come crashing down
Oh, let the world crash
Love can take it
Love can take a little
Love can give a little more

You can find me
You can find me
You can find me anywhere
Take a look over your shoulder
I'll be standing there
Standing there

Love is all around you now
So take a hold
And faith will bring a way
To the impossible

Just one more day
(You can find me, You can find me)
One more day
(You can find me anywhere)

Let the world crash
Love can take it
Oh, let the world come crashing down
Oh, let the world crash
Love can take it
Love can take a little
Love can take a little
Love can take a little
Love can give a little more
A little more

Take a little more
Take a little more

Friday, September 9, 2005 10:31 AM CDT

Taking Zach to school this morning. On the radio:

I love you more than the sun
And the stars that I taught how to shine
You are mine and you shine for me, too
I love you
Yesterday
And today
And tomorrow
I'll say it again and again
I love you more
I love you more

Zach singing along. Tears on my face. I miss him so.

Tuesday, September 6, 2005 7:36 PM CDT

I find it hard to write now. There seems to be nothing to tell. People ask me how I'm doing, what I need. The only thing I need no-one can give, so I say, "I'm doing all right." Am I? Hard to know. Just working through the days as they come.

Small Dave story....I went to see Elaine at the payroll office and discovered that Dave had taken out a voluntary life insurance policy that I didn't know about. It was a real blessing, as the amount of the policy nearly covers the debt accrued through cancer/autism these past few years. It means that we should be able to keep our house. Sigh of relief. That's not the real Dave part, though. After leaving the district office, I ran into the mini-mart to get a soda. On the radio:

You know our love was meant to be
The kind of love that lasts forever
And I need you here with me
From tonight until the end of time

You should know, everywhere I go
You're always on my mind,
in my heart In my soul

You're the meaning in my life
You're the inspiration
You bring feeling to my life
You're the inspiration
Wanna have you near me
I wanna have you hear me sayin'
No one needs you more than I need you

This was the song Dave and I danced to at our wedding. I smiled, cried a little and said, "Hi, Dave."

Thursday, September 1, 2005 0:21 AM CDT

Dave's Memorial Service

A beautiful day, sunny, clear and not too hot. 1600 gather, wearing clothes bright with blue, purple, Hawaiian flowers and Disneyland characters. They are here to say goodbye. The only clouds are inside.

There are beautiful flowers everywhere, pictures of Dave, a Wa-Hi football jersey and helmet, high school trophies and his beloved guitar, the only object that meant anything to Dave, looking lonely on stage.

Bob and Judy, on their anniversary, grieving, sad, welcoming friends and family.

Shane, Jeffrey & Patrice play beautiful music, some of Dave's favorite songs.

The football coaches, resplendent in Wa-Hi royal and white, come in from the field, tan and tall, smelling of the sun and fresh grass crushed under cleats. They are warm when I hug them, they feel strong. They feel like Dave.

We gather in the family room, but after praying with Robin, Denise and I can't stay there, we sneak to the back of the sanctuary to watch the people and listen to the music. Zach finds us and sneaks in to hug his friends. We long to be part of all that is happening. We want to take in every minute. We want to stop time.

I find myself needing Mark and Erik and Deb and Cindy. When we come into the sanctuary, I see those faces and break into a smile. I wonder what people think when they see me smile.

We settle in the pews. Kate sees Dave's guitar and snuggles close. "I miss Daddy." "Me too, love, me too." I find myself wishing I had 3 sides, so I could be right next to all three of our children.

I hear Skip welcome us, pray with us. Above him, a picture of Dave, sitting with bandana around his head, on the front porch at the beach, putting on his boots. The picture is washed with blue, you can just make out the water in the background. You can see he's readying to walk away.

Dave's brother, Bob reads from Dave's favorite chapter, Romans 8: "I am convinced that nothing can separate us from the love that is Christ Jesus."

Jeffrey and Patrice and Shane begin to sing:
"Oh Lord, You're beautiful,
Your face is all I see
For when Your eyes are on this child
Your grace abounds to me...."

Erik Haroldson plays the piano, sings in a voice so pure and strong and clear, the song he wrote for Dave twenty years ago:
"My friend with the magic guitar
Lend him your ears, open your heart
He�ll sing a song for you
Because he knows just how you�re feeling
And if you listen carefully, I�m sure that you will see
The story of the magic man hidden behind his words
And then he�ll smile songs of happiness
And he�ll whisper words of tears
He�ll share all his secrets with you
Because he just wants, just wants someone to hear

Don�t you know that I hear?"

Zach, leaning forward in his pew, sending Erik love, so that Erik can sing. Kate, singing along, softly.

Peter Wiederspan, talks about how we can get to know Dave better...by loving those around us, by learning to play and instrument, and playing it long and loud and ignoring everything else around, by telling everyone in sight when you fall in love, by honoring your parents, by loving Jesus and letting His light shine in you, you'll know Dave better.

Shane, Jeffrey & Patrice begin "Forever," a song Dave sang with the kids when he taught Vacation Bible School, kept singing with Sunday School classes and finally brought up to the sanctuary. The children came forward to do the hand motions.

"Let my song be a sweet perfume
Rising up to heaven
Let my life be a prayer to You
Pleasing You forever..."

Mark Thompson came to tell us of Dave, a basketball player, learning to coach football, reaching out to care for each player, no matter their talent. He spoke of the years of Tuesday evenings, Coach and the Music Man, preaching and singing at the chapel at the Christian Aid Center, ministering to and loving the least of these. Of a man who learned from his parents to love and be loved and to follow God in all he did. A man unafraid to really love the people in his life and to tell them so.

Dave's brother, Greg, read from James 1, "Count it all joy, my brethren, when you meet various trials, for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness....Blessed is the man who endures trial, for when he has stood the test he will receive the crown of life which God has promised to those who love him."

Mark Nelson, guitar in hand, the pain of losing his friend etched on his face sang "Coming Home."
"The sun stood still today
And everything was bright
And even though there was no time
They waited an eternity
For you

You held your son so close again
Your Father pulled you closer in
And all the angels held their breath
And watched you take another step
To Him

The angels were dropping everything
To lift you up and bring your wings
A choir sang their welcoming
And you joined in once more to sing

Hallelujah"

Harvey Wellington shared about Dave, the full meal deal, a young boy running through campgrounds, a boy surrounded by love and faith, a teenager eating everything in sight and playing basketball every spare moment, a young father struggling with loss, a teacher and coach who truly made a difference for so many, a grown man who told kids, "I believe in you. You can do it."

Rev. Robin Peterson, Dave's pastor and mentor for most of his life, shared about meeting the teenager, the shining star, scholar, athlete, full of promise, who shone, then struggled, then overcame. He reminded us what Dave would have said. He was an ordinary man, who accomplished extraordinary things by allowing himself to be used as God's instrument. He shared the lyrics of a song and he shared his broken heart, the depth of his love for Dave showing in his words, his face, his voice.

Then the slide show, put together by Jeffrey Townsend. An incredible tribute. I gave Jeffrey 300 pictures (scanned by Thomas Bebee) and a set of songs. Jeffrey created pure magic...pictures of Dave, as a little boy, growing up in the arms of a loving, secure, faithful family. As a child, playing with his brothers. As a teenager, shooting hoops and playing football. As a young man, playing music. As a husband, shining with love. As a father, every picture a portrait of adoration. As a patient, showing strength through his weakness. As a friend, enjoying moment with the people he loved.

In the background, "You'll Be In My Heart" by Phil Collins, "My Front Porch Looking In" by Lonestar, "More" by Matthew West, "Forever Young" by Rod Stewart, "This is Your Life" by Switchfoot, and "I Can Only Imagine" by MercyMe. Kenny and Zach and Kate are all singing along with each song, getting stronger with every word, raising their voices in true Dave fashion, celebrating the love, the music...one and the same. The love and the music.

Dave's smile is in every frame. In many of the pictures, other eyes turn toward the camera, but we see Dave, gazing on the faces he loves, drinking them in. We see birthday parties where all the adults sit on the perimeter and Dave is playing right in the middle with all the kids. Pictures of him, in coaching blue or black, striding across the field, clipboard in hand, encouraging pats on the back for players. Pictures of him tenderly holding babies. Pictures of him throwing the ball for his boys. Pictures of him with his head thrown back, laughing. Pictures of him with his guitar, shining that smile, talking to Mark and Erik without any words at all. Pictures of him in his wheelchair. Pictures of Darren shaving his head. And finally, pictures of him in the hospital bed where he spent his last days, still connecting with people, welcoming them in, drawing them near.

We cried, then laughed, then cried some more. Amy cried, unable to be consoled. I lifted her. She clung to me for a few seconds, then reached for Zach. He held her until she could breathe again, until she felt safe and calm.

We then sang "Amazing Grace" with Hanna Peterson's beautiful voice leading us.
"Amazing grace
How sweet the sound
That saved a wretch like me
I once was lost
But now am found
Was blind but now I see."

I'm sure I'll be editing this, there is so much to say, and some of the words are jumbled, but beginning to sort themselves out. I know I've made mistakes, but it was a beautiful tribute to a great man, who lived for others, never letting an opportunity to care or reach out pass by. He had many "refugees," people he took in and called his own. He faced every trial honestly and bravely. He gave his all. Someone said, "The paper got it almost right. They said he was a kid magnet. Dave was a people magnet." How right that is. I am still hearing about people whose lives were touched, transformed, by knowing Dave.

It was a priviledge to know him, to love him. And saying goodbye is nearly impossible.

The obituary follows:

David Joseph Meyer
December 28, 1962 � August 23, 2005

Dave Meyer, 42, died at home, surrounded by love, after a valiant eight-year battle against a malignant brain tumor. Throughout his journey, he never gave up, fought the good fight, and showed us what courage looks like.

Dave was an incredibly caring person with a bright smile and a warm embrace. His boundless energy, positive attitude and love for God touched everyone who knew him. He was an inspirational teacher, who loved his students and cared about each one. He was a coach who had an impact on his players on and off the field. He was a loving husband and a father beyond measure. He was a gifted musician and songwriter, sharing his love of music with so many. This was a man who glowed with the love of Jesus. He was a hero and an inspiration, although he never liked to hear that, always giving the glory of his accomplishments to his Lord.

Dave was born in Aberdeen, WA in 1962 and grew up in College Place and Walla Walla, attending Davis Elementary, Sager Middle School, Garrison Middle School and Walla Walla High School. He was an outstanding athlete, scholar, and student leader. He was involved in student government, basketball, football, Chamber singers, and drama. He earned his Bachelor�s Degree in English at the University of Puget Sound in 1987, where he played basketball, played in a band, �The Currents,� and was a member of the Beta Theta Pi fraternity. He did his graduate work at Eastern Washington University. He married Michelle Lynn Bond in 1986.

Dave taught at Curtis Junior High and McIllvaigh Middle School in Tacoma. He and his family returned to Walla Walla in 1992, where following in his father�s footsteps, he began teaching and coaching at Walla Walla High School leaving a legacy of love, honor and integrity in all he did. He taught history and English and coached football and basketball at Wa-Hi, and helped create the Conspiracy of Hope annual event. He volunteered his time, coaching Little League baseball, Little League softball, YMCA basketball and AAU basketball. His love of the game and his code of sportsmanship have guided many young athletes. He was an active advocate for youth with disabilities, encouraging opportunities for inclusion and acceptance for all people, coaching Special Olympics and Challenger baseball. He volunteered at CareNet and the Christian Aid Center.

He joins his son, Kyle Douglas Meyer (January 2-27, 1989) in heaven. He is missed by his family: wife, Michelle Meyer, sons, Kenny and Zachary Meyer and little girl, Kate Meyer, his parents Bob and Judy Meyer, his two brothers and their families, Bob, Mindy, Annalee and Caleb Meyer and Greg, Stephanie, Aaron and Micaiah Meyer, his parent-in-law, Carol and Dennis Bond, his sister-in-law and family, Denise, Darren, Jakob, Amy and Lukas Ullmann, his grandparents, Spud Grim and Edith Meyer.

Dave was a man who never knew a stranger, who truly loved the people in his life and never missed an opportunity to show that he cared. His light continues to shine in each person who knew him, especially his children.

The Walla Walla Union Bulletin also did a front page story on Dave, The TriCities Herald did a story on the front page of the local section and the news from Kennewick came and did a news story, interviewing teachers, administrators and students about Dave.

It's so clear to me that I won't be the only one missing him, that he leaves a huge hole for so many.

Union-Bulletin Article:
Wednesday, August 24, 2005

WW coach, teacher dies
David Meyer, remembered as `a kid magnet,' died this morning after a long fight with cancer.

By Sheila Hagar and Luis Gomez of the Union-Bulletin

MEYER
A longtime Walla Walla High School teacher and coach died Tuesday morning after battling cancer.

David Meyer, 42, taught social studies at Wa-Hi since 1992, and coached basketball and football. He participated in various clubs and organizations on campus.

Meyer was involved in and influenced by gospel music and played in a Christian band, Wa-Hi Principal Brian Pendleton said today.

The teacher was diagnosed with brain cancer in late 1996, after a car accident required a head CT scan. He died in his home after valiantly battling his illness, Pendleton said.

``Dave was absolutely a warrior. I couldn't describe him in any other word. This (disease) was absolutely not going to get him down. With every surgery his goal was to get back in the classroom in six to eight weeks,' Pendleton said.

``He was a tremendous man of faith.'

The school district was supportive of Meyer's goal, hiring a long-term substitute teacher to fill in for the ill teacher when he was gone and to be ready to step into the gap on days Meyer's strength would not allow him to finish classes, the principal said.

``He never left the job for good.'

Meyer's dedication was noted by his students, Pendleton said. ``A lot of kids would say to you that they learned how to battle things in life by watching Dave Meyer. He was loved by many, many students.'

Skip Pritchard, associate pastor at College Place Presbyterian Church, had known Meyer for 23 years.

Meyer led the church's worship team and was a favorite among the congregation's children. He also played guitar at the Christian Aid Center and befriended special-needs adults, Pritchard said.

In his journey with brain cancer, done with faith and courage, Meyer taught people how to live, the pastor said. ``He lived his life out loud. This was a remarkable man.'

The Meyer family has chronicled their past year on a Web site called Caring Bridge, a free, online service that allows families to keep people updated during ordeals such as theirs.

``It was a place where everyone could keep updated on his condition, and it was easy to go up and talk to him and ask him about things,' Pendleton said. The site allowed school staff and friends to understand the situation without imposing on the family, he added.

The Walla Walla resident came from a family of educators. His father, Bob, and his mother, Judy, also taught at Walla Walla public schools.

Meyer was homecoming king at Wa-Hi in 1980 and graduated in 1981. He earned his bachelor's degree in English from the University of Puget Sound.

``This is a tremendous loss to our educational family,' Walla Walla School District Superintendent Rich Carter said in a written statement released Tuesday.

``Dave was a kid magnet who really connected with students. Our district is grieving his passing, but will remember his strength and dedication to education as we welcome students back for a new year.'

Meyer is survived by his wife, Michelle, and children, Kenny, a ninth-grader at Wa-Hi, Zack, an eighth-grader at Pioneer Middle School, and Kaitlyn, a fourth-grader at Berney Elementary School.

Funeral arrangements are pending at Herring Groseclose Funeral Home, 315 W. Alder St.

Tuesday, August 30, 2005 2:31 AM CDT

Let me first say, this entry isn�t for everyone. I�m going to talk about some of the less pretty aspects. I�m going to talk about the hard work of dying. It�s not easy to write, and I imagine it won�t be easy to read.

It finally dawned on me why it�s been so difficult for me to write about Dave�s memorial service. It�s because it�s not finished. We gathered together, we celebrated Dave�s life, we honored his memory, his accomplishments and recognized what a fine man he was and how many, many gifts he brought into this world. It was a beautiful celebration of a life well lived, and a great tribute to a great man, and also to those people who helped him become that man, and supported and loved him throughout his life, his parents, brothers, family, teachers, coaches, students and friends, also me & our kids. All this was mentioned.

I�m going to talk some about what wasn't mentioned much: his death, specifically the process of dying. And recognize some of the people who were there for him during the darkest, hardest times. People who didn�t shy away, people who shouldered the work that needed to be done, the physical work and the emotional work. People who hurt terribly to see a strong, vibrant man in such a weakened state, but didn�t close their eyes or turn away.

The lion�s share fell to me. I need no recognition, and have in fact, received far more than I deserve. I describe my share, to help you better understand. I was honored to be able to be his partner, in sickness and in health, for better and for worse, until death parted us. I walked beside him, and I did not falter. I didn�t sleep. I didn�t eat. I looked death in the face, and knew its sting would be unbearable, but temporary. I held our children while they cried and realized that their father would die. I told Dave everything in my heart. I soaked up every second with him that I could, even when people told me to "get some sleep!" I realized that because of the way that Dave loved the people in his life, that this process was bigger than me, and I opened our home and shared my last days with him with other people who needed to touch him one last time, when part of me wanted him all to myself. I did the best that I could to honor Dave every step of the way. He told me he wanted to fight, and I gave him those chemo pills until he simply could no longer swallow them. I made the hard decisions alone when he could no longer make them with me. And when it was time, I told him that it was okay to rest. I told him that he had done well, that his children were strong, because they were of him, that they have learned so much from him, and promised that I would make sure they would be okay. I gave him permission to leave, reminding him that he was no less a fighter, no less a warrior, that it was time to lay down the sword and receive the crown. I did it with honor and dignity, and I know he was grateful. It was the hardest thing I've ever done.

Here is the key. I didn�t do it alone. My mom and dad were here, 24/7 for the last three months. Yes, three months. They never wavered. They never faltered. Not once. My dad told Dave, �I love you as my own son.� And he did. Mom, too. They gave him medicine when it was next to impossible, they changed bed linens, they turned him to prevent bedsores, they held him while he threw up, they wiped his face, they fed him, bathed him, they brushed his teeth and swabbed his mouth. The list could go on for pages. My dad would help transfer Dave from bed to wheelchair, holding him up, hugging him, saying, �This is my favorite part, you know you were the one who taught me to hug.� He held Dave securely, talking Dave through it, keeping him safe. Mom played back-up, reading what we needed without us having to ask. This strange dance, this odd synchronicity, not what we wanted, but what Dave needed. They shouldered a burden they did not have to. They did it with grace and love. They never complained, or even acknowledged how much they were giving up in order to be here for me and for Dave.

When I reached that point, the nadir where I was certain I could not go on, that I could not see this through to its inevitable conclusion, I called my sister, Denise. Without a second thought, she dropped everything and came. She stepped in when I was exhausted, she stayed awake all night, she sat with me as the reality that Dave was truly dying crashed over me. She reminded me that I had the power of love, that I could do this. She was covered with puke and pee and sweat and never flinched. She soothed us both with gentle strokes and reassuring words. Darren was apprehensive, but came anyway. He faced this full-on and came to realize the honor in the part we had no choice but to play. He learned that it would be okay, if Dave died when he was alone with him. Like the rest of us, he worked through fear, because of his love for Dave, and found strength he didn�t even know he had. He stayed the course and took up the yoke, easing my burden.

I'll touch on just a few others. Jeffery, who didn�t say, �Call me if you need anything,� but came on Tuesdays and said, �Go, I will be here.� He walked through the valley with Dave.

Jim, who tenderly wiped Dave�s face and held the bucket for him as he threw up for the 10th time that day.

Skip, praying with us every day, bringing peaceful music, helping with bathroom duty in the hospital.

Matt, whose heart broke every time he came to the house, who continued to come anyway, unafraid to feel, unafraid to love, showing us strength and courage beyond his years, pitching in, facing the hard parts, telling Dave he would be there for his boys, knowing this was the greatest gift he could give.

Amy, who is only 15, and was losing a man she has loved for most of her life, a man who thought of her as his little girl. Amy, braver than most of the adults I know. Being here, facing death, even when she was unsure.

And Deb, who put her own life on hold to be a second mother to my children.

These are people who loved Dave in life, and continued to love him in death, who loved him enough to not be afraid, and to find courage even when they were. They helped me help Dave with the work of dying. They didn�t fall apart, or focus on how hard it was for them, they just did what needed to be done as Dave died. It�s not as pretty or uplifting or encouraging as all the magical things that happened when Dave lived, but they are no less important.

There are others, and of course, Dave's family was here often, and supported us, too, but as I said, they have already been recognized, honored and thanked, publicly and privately. Most people are aware of the ways his family has loved and supported him and what wonderful people they are. The service was beautiful, and an incredible life was celebrated, along with the simply amazing people who made it possible. Their love and support have been beyond measure.

But it�s time for me to also recognize these other people, the ones who were my rock and my fortress, the ones who held fast during the ugliest, most horrific hours and helped me make something beautiful of the worst thing in my life. The ones who made it possible for Dave to die the way he lived. The quiet ones in the background, who aren�t being acknowledged or sent sympathy cards. The ones who didn't fall apart or shy away or get stuck in their own pain. I know Dave would want me to thank them. I know how grateful he was. I saw the way his eyes searched for my dad, the way he visibly relaxed, knowing my dad was here. Along with me, my dad was the one who stepped into the gap the most. I�m more grateful than I can even tell you.

I can rest now. I�ll try to update about the service tomorrow.

Monday, August 29, 2005 3:10 PM CDT

Update on the service coming soon.
Every time I try to write it, I just cry.
Soon I'll be able to get it.

I plan to keep this site going, and to give you reports about how Dave is still shining. I have so many examples already.

Thank you to everyone for all your support.
Love, Shelley

Thursday, August 25, 2005 6:35 PM CDT

NOTICE PLEASE:
There was an error in the e-mail sent out to the school district employees. We had planned a reception after Dave's memorial service at the College Church, and just a day ago, found out that the fellowship hall is under construction. We had hoped to find a way to serve refreshments and have a gathering time after the service. Skip visited the church, and it seems that just wouldn't work. We do invite folks to take time to connect after the service, we can gather on the lawn and in the foyer. The e-mail stated that "the family wants privacy." Well, you all know that was so NOT Dave. We welcome a chance to share some time with all of you, you are so important to Dave. We are just unable to offer a formal reception in the fellowship hall as planned.

Here is a letter that Matt Stroe wrote to Dave. Matt has been a real source of support and caring to our family. His presence over the years has influenced us greatly. He is one of the most Dave-like men I know. He is not afraid to really love the people in his life. He is determined and everything he does, he does with honor and integrity. He has been here for us through these past few weeks, and has really looked out for Kenny. I know that it was easier for Dave, knowing he had to go, since he knew that Matt would be there for his son. Dave loves you, Matt. We all do. Like you said in the tv spot, you're passing on Dave's love. He shines in you.

"Dave,
You have been an important part of my life for the last 13 years. You helped turn me into a player when you were my coach, and you helped turn me into a better coach when you were my mentor. But most of all you helped turn me into a better person by being my friend. I have very fond memories of our boys' weekends to watch the east/west games. Zach running up and down the bleachers in Seattle, Kenny doing a play for us in the back seat of the car, and our conversations about the next season, or you giving me the history and meanings of different songs. Those trips meant a lot to me as does the friendship you and I share. I think of you not only as a coach, mentor, and friend but also like a brother. You have taught me so many things about life. You may not have told me those things, but I watched you. You taught me that life can throw you some curve balls, but that doesn't mean you watch them go by, or stop swinging. As a matter of fact you have to swing harder for the things you want and love. When I graduated from Wa-Hi you wrote in my annual that you were glad to know Matt Stroe. The fact is I am the one who should be glad that you know me, and I am the one who was lucky enough to get to call you my friend. You were with me for all of my growing period as a coach. I was able to learn from one of the best coaches I've ever had. You taught me how to care for kids no matter how talented they were because every kid wants someone to care for them. When the time comes, I am looking forward to coaching your kids and hopefully teaching them the things you taught me. Dave, thank you for everything you have given me over the past years. Thank you for helping me become the person I am today. But most of all Dave, thank you for teaching me how to swing away. Your friend, Matt Stroe"

Wednesday, August 24, 2005 8:37 PM CDT

To see the article in the paper, visit:

http://www.union-bulletin.com/main.asp?FromHome=1&TypeID=1&ArticleID=28074&SectionID=1&SubSectionID=1

Get on your GO BIG BLUE shirts, your Hawaiian shirts, your Mickey Mouse shirts and come remember a valiant warrior, an inspirational coach, a caring teacher and a loving man. Suits and ties optional. The girls here are wearing bright dresses, mostly purple!

Memorial for Dave Meyer
Saturday, August 27, 2005
3:00 pm at the Walla Walla College Church on 4th and Bade in College Place, Washington

Donations may be made in honor of Dave to:

The Dave Meyer Memorial Scholarship Fund
*a scholarship fund for student athletes at Wa-Hi
*managed by Big Blue Boosters
*contact Herring Groseclose

The Meyer Children Educational Fund
*an educational fund for Dave's children
*managed by Eastgate Banner Bank
*contact Herring Groseclose

All arrangements by:
Herring Groseclose Funeral Home
315 West Alder
Walla Walla, WA 99362
(509)525-1150

Tuesday, August 23, 2005 3:12 PM CDT

I thought that the world would be a dimmer, darker place today. I thought I would feel alone, abandoned, bereft. As Kenny, Zach, Kate and I held each other and cried, I looked at their faces, and I knew. Dave's light still shines. It shines brightly in our children. It shines in each person he touched. One candle may not be burning, but that candle lit so many others that the glow is warming every corner of our world. And the world where Dave plays football with Kyle must be unbearably bright today.

I will share some more stories, there are so many precious, tender moments from the past few days. For the moment there are things to do.

Details of the service to follow, it will likely be this weekend.

I can almost hear God say, "Well done, good and faithful servant. Welcome home. Hold your son. I will hold the others. I will hold them."

In His mighty grip,
Shelley

Monday, August 22, 2005 2:34 AM CDT

A day of circles complete. Updating friends who are close in heart, but far in distance. Laughing and crying together as we share memories of a man who leaves an indelible mark on everyone he meets.

Zach came home a day early. It was hard for him, as he missed the gradual decline, and even though he was updated over the phone, it's something else entirely to see his strong, vibrant Dad this way.

Kate was definitely waiting for Zach to come home to allow this process to become real for her. Kenny's been very in tune all along, he's incredibly perceptive, and always, always cuts right to the heart of the matter.

There is lots to share, but I have to get some sleep, so will sum it up by saying, the kids each spent much time with me, crying and hugging and talking it out. They are so Dave's kids! They are in the moment with their feelings, honest and true and deep. They allow the waves of hurt to come, and reach out to me, and I hold them close. We work it through together. The time with just us has been so precious. The kids shared many, many favorite memories of their Dad. Pictures in our hearts. Then they each spent some quiet individual time with Dad to share with him what is in their hearts.

It was hard. It was real. It was an honor, to be their shepherd, their guide through this valley and to help them turn to the only One who can ever fully answer the questions. They honor and reflect their father in so many ways, and are learning to honor and reflect their heavenly Father as Dave does.

Dave is sleeping now. He has not had a time of real alertness today. He mostly rests easily, he does complain when we move him! He still flutters his eyes and his breathing rate increases when someone talks with him. I know it's driving him crazy not to be able to talk back, and I sense that he is hearing.

There is much more, so many to thank, so many who have been here. That will have to wait until I'm less rummy! Denise, thanks for coming when I was sure I couldn't take one more step on this journey. With you, I can.

Love, Shell

Romans 8:35-39

Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or danger, or sword? As it is written, "For your sake we are being killed all the day long; we are regarded as sheep to be slaughtered." No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am sure that neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor powers, nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.

Monday, August 22, 2005 2:34 AM CDT

Saturday, August 20, 2005 2:25 AM CDT

I think this is the third entry today, so check the journal history for more info.

Tonight, we gave Dave a bath, and he woke up fully for the first time today. He was awake and talking a bit, and drank some water. He seemed to feel better after the bath, much more comfortable. He wasn't awake long, but was fully focused and communicating with us when he was. He went back to sleep, but the sleep was different than it had been all day. All day, he was very unresponsive, a few times leaning into my hand, but mostly not responding. He squeezed Cindy's hand once, and opened his eyes for Amy. But after the bath, and being awake, his sleep was different, seeming more like normal sleep. He was sleeping lightly, but still responding more, nodding his head, murmuring "mm-hmm." Yesterday his breathing was from his diaphram, not wanting to choke on the mucus. The mucus is gone with the patch, and he's breathing easily and normally now. Yesterday and earlier today, he was not really moving much, but tonight, he has been moving more, reaching out, helping us with bedding changes and pillow adjustment, giving direction with his hand as to how he wants things. The pain in his neck has eased, and he's holding and moving his head normally now. We haven't had to give any nausea or pain medication. It's a small reprieve, but one we treasure.

Thanks, Deb, for the late night heart-to-heart, it's just what I needed. You always know. I love you.

Erik and Evy, you were (again) there for me during the tough parts of today. Reaching for you is as natural as breathing. I'm grateful beyond words for the lifeline that you are.

Thanks for the kind words of affirmation, Judy & Bob, it meant a lot.

And Mom and Dad, I could not do this without you.

Z comes home tomorrow. He's been having a blast in Idaho, and checking in on the phone every day. We miss him like crazy.

Jim, you made quite an impression on Kate, she wants to know when are you please coming back and will you bring your three girls? We so enjoyed seeing you with her, it gave us a glimpse of the kind of father you are, fun, loving, patient and delighting in the funny quirks.

Night, all.
Shell

Friday, August 19, 2005 4:43 PM CDT

2nd update today. See journal for first.

Dave has been sleeping all day today. He woke up for a minute or two a couple of times, but mostly is sleeping peacefully.

He is no longer squeezing our hands or responding in any way, so it's not clear if he still hears us. I believe he does. So I talk to him, rub his head, and tell him how much we love him, and how proud we are.

Jim and Mark left today. Jim, it was great to reunite with you, your willingness to come and be there is so appreciated. Some bonds are never weakened, even by time or distance, your faith is strong and a great gift to us.

As they left, hugging Mark, seeing his eyes, it was one of the most painful moments of the journey so far for me. Mark, you've been there, every step, for more than 20 years. Whenever we needed you, you came. With quiet, strong hugs, guitar in hand, and your ready laugh, you always found a way to help us through. We love you, more than words can say. You are Dave's brother. Watching The Currents again, I am awed by the connection, the love between you and Dave and Erik. It's a very profound thing, a bond of love and music, a sharing that goes beyond mere words. And that love has surrounded the rest of us, sheltered us. Evy and I often talk about the strange miracle that you three are. It's something many people never get to know. And today, even surrounded by some of the best people in the world, I have never felt so alone as when your "convenient Lexus cage" pulled out of the driveway. I miss you already.

My Father's House by Audio Adrenaline
I don't know where you lay your head or where you call your home.
I don't know where you eat your meals or where you talk on the phone.
I don't know if you got a cook, a butler or a maid,
I don't know if you got a yard with a hammock in the shade.

I don't know if you got a shelter, say a place to hide.
I don't know if you live with friends in whom you can confide.
I don't know if you got a family, say a mom or a dad.
I don't know if you feel love at all, but I bet you wish you had.

CHORUS:
Come, and go with me, to my Father's house.
Come, and go with me, to my Father's house.
It's big, big house, with lots and lots of room,
A big, big table, with lots and lots of food,
A big, big yard, where we can play football
A big, big house, it's my Father's house.

All I know is a big ole house, with rooms for everyone.
All I know is lots of land, where we can play and run.
All I know is you need love, and I've got a family.
All I know is you're all alone, so why not come with me?

Dave will soon be in his Father's house, teaching Kyle about "listen and hustle."

Harvey & Darlene sent this link:I Can Only Imagine
Thank you so much, this is one of Dave's favorite songs. Thanks for your visit last night, too. Harv, you had a hand in shaping a young boy into a great man. We're so grateful that you'll have a presence in Zach and Kenny's lives, too.
Love, Shell

Friday, August 19, 2005 10:34 AM CDT

Have you ridden a rollercoaster lately? Do you remember the anticipation, the flutter in your stomach as the coaster climbs the hill? Did you feel that slight stall, that quiet moment at the top? Then the bottom drops and you fall. Then there's a time of relative quiet, and it starts all over again?

That was yesterday for me.

I made the decision to call hospice. It was a hard decision for many reasons. Number 1, I'm a control freak, and calling in someone made me feel less in control. The hospice nurse came in and said, "You're still in charge, we won't try to boss you around." Bob smiled a little at that one. I told her, "I'm a pretty hard person to boss around." Number 2, in some ways, it feels like giving up. I know in my head that it's not, that we're working toward different things, but in my heart, it's difficult to accept. Dave has fought so valiantly for so long, it's hard to consider another way of being. And Number 3, it was the first real decision that I have made without Dave in 20 years. Most of the time, in these journals, I talk about "we" decided or did. This time, Dave was not really able to help me make the decision. That was a lonely, bereft feeling.

But Dave could no longer swallow pills. He wanted to fight this thing with everything he had until the very last possible moment. So until he physically couldn't swallow the pills, I kept giving him the chemo. I feel good about that. I'm glad that I supported his choice and his decision to fight, no matter what the cost. I'm glad that we waited to call hospice until we absolutely had to. If he becomes able to swallow pills again, and indicates he wants chemo, I can always stop hospice. (They only allow comfort measures on hospice, not any treatments.)

Now that he can't swallow pills, he'll be getting all his medications in liquid or suppository form. Should have seen his face when I told him about suppositories!! This will make it easy to get medications in him reliably. Since we stopped giving him pills, the nausea is completely gone.

He was able to eat some applesauce and some mandarin oranges yesterday. We're able to trickle a little water into his mouth with a small straw without him choking.

He was holding his head at an odd angle yesterday and indicated that his neck hurt. I massaged it for him and we got some pain meds, which helped. He slept well last night.

Hospice has been wonderful so far. They got us a suction machine to help with the mucus. They're getting Dave an extra-long bed since he doesn't easily fit in the regular size. The help with medications has been wonderful.

We had lots of visitors yesterday. Wonderful people, and it was good. Crowded sometimes, but okay. Dave always likes a party. He's able to squeeze hands, and listen, sometimes nodding his head.

Mark and Jim are here, that seems to have brightened Dave up quite a bit.

Matt Stroe, you are the best. We love you so much.

Love, Shell

Wednesday, August 17, 2005 5:44 PM CDT

Tears. Lots of tears. We have made the most of these last few weeks and I am so glad. Dave is surrounded by people who love him, who stroke his head, who tell him what a fine man he is, a wonderful father, a nearly :-) perfect husband--a life partner beyond what I could ever have imagined or come close to deserving, an inspirational coach and a teacher beyond measure. Before Zach left for Idaho, after spending some special time with Dad, Dave looked at our children's faces, then at me and said, "We done good, Shell. We done good." And so we have.

I fear our journey is nearing the end. Dave has been confined to bed for the past week or so, unable to use his left side. Swallowing is becoming increasingly difficult. His breathing has changed over the last 12 hours, he has a lot of mucus in his throat, which makes it hard to breathe, and chokes him sometimes. The vomiting has pretty well abated, thank God. He is unable to eat or drink much, just a few bites and sips here and there. It's getting harder to get the medication in.

He's been pretty alert and with us most of the time, but today even that has taken a sharp decline. When he's awake, he's not really very oriented, and has not been talking, although he seems to hear us.

We've made some great memories over the past few months, and are making sure that Dave hears all the words, everything he needs to hear.

I hope I'm wrong, he's proved statistics wrong so many times in the past. He's been a brave and valiant warrior, fighting this battle with everything he has, continuing to smile and just be Dave....if you've ever been in his presence, you know exactly what I mean. If you've ever been the recipient of that Dave smile, or one of those Dave hugs, you know. Even now, he finds the strength to lift his good hand and stroke my hair when I lay my head on his chest. That's Dave, always giving.

I love him more than I can say.

For those of you that don't know him well, I'm going to paste in a letter from Jillian, his long-term sub last spring. I hope she won't mind, I can't find her phone number to ask permission. But it gives a clear picture of the kind of man Dave is. Amazing, remarkable, unequaled.

"Dave �

I should have written this note two months ago, but my Mom always says that it�s never too late to say thank you. I�m afraid this little card doesn�t have enough room to hold all the gratitude I felt for having the chance to brush elbows with you, but it�ll have to do!

When Ginger called me in January, asking me to sub long-term for �THE� Dave Meyer, I said yes with fear & trepidation, wondering if I had what it would take to fill the biggest (figurative) shoes at Wa-Hi. Turns out I didn�t, and that was the point. From the first day, it was overwhelming how much your students cared about you. They are drawn to you, Dave, not because of your gift for teaching, your extensive knowledge in history & English, or even your passion for music (although you�ve got all of those things.) They are drawn to the Jesus in you, the one who radiates His love to every single kid that walks through your door, in every single lesson, song, story, or smile. You love them with the love of the One whose love they need the very most. And that doesn�t come from you. Thanks for showing me that I don�t have what it takes to really love these kids � but He does.

Thanks for being so gracious with such a stubborn, learning teacher. You encouraged me, even when I didn�t deserve it, just because you knew I needed it. You gave me chocolate, smiles, cookies, and hugs when I was grouchy. You showed up, when every fiber in your body screamed at you to stay in bed. Thanks for teaching me what it means to be faithful.

I�ll never forget what Nick Clark wrote on his final, in answering the question, �What did you learn this semester?� He said, � Mr. Meyer showed me what it means to really fight.� Thanks for fighting for those kids, Dave. They noticed.

You are a man of true faith, and the truth about your character has really been revealed in your �Cancer Journey,� as you called it on your Cultural Profile. You are a fighter, faithful to your core to the only Source of real LIFE. I�m honored to have worked with you this year. Thanks for the chance to teach with you, and through that, to discover the kind of teacher I want to become. I�m blessed to call you a colleague and honored to call you a friend! In Christ, Jillian"

Wednesday, August 17, 2005 1:32 AM CDT

If you can't hear the music, check back in an hour. I uploaded the music to my geocities free site, and it can't handle all the traffic, so it disables itself for an hour.

Better day today, meds stayed in. We changed bedding and did a bath and all that rocking around brought up some breakfast, but overall, okay.

Jeffrey and Shane came to sing, play guitar and keyboards with Dave. Dave was singing along, and tapping his foot and hand to the music. It was a beautiful, healing, loving time for him. Thanks, guys.

Dave's got his days and nights turned around, wants to have some deep conversations between, oh, say 2:00 and 3:00 am. Sheesh. I'm looking like I'm 85 these days.

Where do tadpoles change?
In a croak room.

What kind of hair do oceans have?
Wavy.

Why was the broom late?
It over-swept.

Bumper Stickers:

Give me ambiguity or give me something else.
We have enough youth, how about a fountain of SMART?
Chaos. Panic. Disorder. My work here is done.
I'm not tense, just terribly, terribly alert.
I started out with nothing and still have most of it left.
I just got lost in thought. It's unfamiliar territory.
The two most common elements in the universe: hydrogen and stupidity.
Everyone has a photographic memory. Some just don't have film.
It's not hard to meet expenses. They're everywhere.
She's always late. Her ancestors arrived on the Juneflower.
Warning: dates in calendar are closer than they appear.
According to my calculations, the problem doesn't exist.
Madness takes its toll. Please have exact change.
What happens if you get scared half to death twice?
I intend to live forever, so far, so good.
Taxation WITH representation ain't so hot, either.
Why be difficult, when with a little effort you can be impossible.
Lottery: tax on people who are bad at math.

Restored by Jeremy Camp

All this time I've wandered around
Searching for the things I'll never know
I've been searching for this answer that
Only will be found in Your love

And I feel it my heart is being mended by Your touch
And I hear it Your voice that's shown my purpose in this world

You have restored me from my feeble and broken soul
You have restored me

I've only come to realize my strength will be made perfect at Your throne
Laying all reflections down to see the precious beauty that You've shown

And I feel it my heart is being mended by Your touch
And I hear it Your voice that's shown my purpose in this world

You have restored me from my feeble and broken soul
You have restored me

Laying all these questions down
You've answered what I need
You've given more than I deserve
You're making me complete

You've given all these open doors
I'm humbled at Your feet
Because of what You've done for me

Monday, August 15, 2005 11:19 PM CDT

Thanks for all the prayers. The seizure was a very small one, and my mom and dad were here. Thank the Lord my dad is a trained EMT. Dave was in the best hands. I was at work. My mom called, and she was handling it well and really calm. Later I told Dave that if he wanted me to stay home, he should just ask, he didn't have to cause such a commotion! By the time I got to him, he was alert and responsive, without any meds on board at all.

My mom and dad have been the absolute best, they have given up their own lives in totality to be here for us. They have taken care of everything, and have let me have my wild, crazy bursts of painting, etc. I couldn't ask for more. And they've been so understanding and suportive, whatever my mood or state of mind. They never scold or lecture or tell me what I "ought" to be doing. They are so amazing to trust that I have a sense of what needs to happen, even if it seems whacko to them. They know how ;much I need that illusion of control. We've had lots of help....Dave's dad has helped with the house so much, mowing the lawn and putting in floor. Judy has come by to help with laundry and dishes. Jeffrey has come to visit, Mike has helped with transporting, Mindy has rubbed feet and taken the kids (Bob, too...the kids, not the feet.) Deb took Kate today so she could have a break and relax a little. Ted & Maribeth took Z on their family vacation to Idaho, Z called, he's having a blast. We're so lucky to have so many people. Thanks for dinner, by the way, Cindy. And Amy, thanks for coming by, Dave wasnt' very talkative that day, but his eyes followed you everywhere....you were his little girl, even before Kate, and he's always had a special place for you. Alex was there on the other end of the phone while I was at the hospital, and Erik was there for me on the way there, and Evy afterwards. Couldn't do it without you guys!

We elected to take him to the hospital anyway, just in case and to get his levels checked. As I suspected, his tegretol level was low. Those pills are designed to dissolve over a long period of time, so anytime there is vomiting, the patient doesn't get the full benefit. He's also been choking on the size of the 400 mg tabs. All other blood work was great.

They tried giving him the suspension (liquid) tegretol, but it's only 100 mg/ml (teaspoon) so he had to drink 8 tsp. It was icky, and it came right back up! So we tried the 200 mg tabs, they are much smaller. They went in and stayed in. He's been keeping them in the last two days, since the IV decadron, but his levels must have already been plummeting from the vomiting before, so they called this a break-through seizure. Dave is allergic to the meds that they can give IV for seizures, so IV is not an option. They did give us an emergency med in case he has another seizure before his levels get stable again.

He's been keeping the oral decadron and everything else in the last two days, so that's good. He's tired from the seizure, but is still quite himself, and actually talking a lot more these last few days, much more than last week. Voice is stronger, too.

And he's a little snippy and fiesty, which is good to see. He made some more jokes in the ER.

We tried thickening his water tonight, but that was a disaster. Right now, the best bet seems to be getting the small pills and giving them with applesauce. Amazing what happens when the meds stay in!

They also gave him 2 liters of fluid in the ER, so that was good, to make sure he's still hydrated, although this weekend he was eating pretty well. Well....better than before, still not putting away plates of food like the usual Dave, but better.

Ala Willy: How do you make a kleenex dance? Answer: You put a little boogie in it!

We love you all, thank you for your support and prayers.
Love, Shell

Monday, August 15, 2005 4:43 PM CDT

Please pray.

Dave had a seizure about an hour ago. We are at the hospital now, he's stable, and responding and talking to me. We think that his tegretol levels dropped because of all the nausea and inability to get the meds into him reliably.

He's on IV fluids, they're checking his tegretol level and checking for infection. He has no fever, so they think there probably isn't an infection.

Please pray for God to place His healing hand upon Dave. Dave's already charming the nurses. More later.

In His mighty grip,
Shell

Monday, August 15, 2005 1:20 AM CDT

Three-legged dog walks into a bar, says, "I'm looking for the man who shot my paw." That's the other Jake joke I forgot to post yesterday. I'm sure I'll remember more.

Denise and kids drove all the way to Seattle to deliver the PET to gamma knife. Thank you, thank you. Nurse Neese brought lots more nursey kinds of things to make life easier. Mom and Dad are still here. Dad and I have transferring Dave down to an art form. It's an odd synchronicity, but one I appreciate so much.

Dave was tired this morning, but perked up a lot again in the evening. Talking a lot more than he was. Keeping meds in. Keeping our spirits up. Shouldn't that be the other way around?

We wait. We pray. We laugh. And mostly, we love. And appreciate those of you joining us in the wait, the prayer, the laughter and the love.
Shell

Saturday, August 13, 2005 10:57 PM CDT

"What do you get when you cross an elephant with ex-lax?"
"OUT OF THE WAY!"

Two peanuts went into a bar. One was assaulted.

Little, tiny voice answers the phone, "Hello?"
"Is your mommy there?"
Tiny voice whispers, "Yes."
"Can I talk with her?"
Tiny voice whispers, "No, she's busy."
"Well, is your daddy there?"
Whisper: "Yes."
"Can I speak with him?"
"No, he's busy, too."
"Well is there anyone else there?"
"Yes, the firepeople are here."
"Can I talk to one of them?"
"No, they're busy."
"Is there anyone else there?"
"Yes, the police."
"Can I talk to the police?"
"No, they're busy."
"OK, so your mommy and daddy and the police and the firepeople are all there, but they're busy?"
"That's right."
"What are they all so busy doing?"
Tiny whisper: "Looking for me."

Kenny, getting ready for anesthesia for a dental procedure, says to the doctor: "Are you the one that's gonna knock me out?" Doctor says, "Yes, that's the plan." Kenny says, "Not if I knock you out first!"

Just a sample of what was flying around our living room tonight. Lots of laughter, and Dave smiling, laughing. And zinging us.

I said, "Well, I'm a slow driver, Dave calls me Pokey. I'm pretty cautious." Dave: "You THINK you're cautious!"

Mom to Dave: "You look pretty spiffy today." Dave: "TODAY???"

Denise to Annalee, "How old are you now?" Dave: "42." Denise, "What?" Dave: "Why don't you ask me how old I am??"

What a night.

Obviously, Dave has perked up quite a bit! We got some IV fluids and decadron at his appointment yesterday, which made a huge difference. He's back at it. Good appetite, good energy, and full of well....his eyes ARE brown, after all. Singing some, even.

PET scan will be reviewed at the Gamma Knife Board on Monday and at the Neuro-Onc Board on Wednesday. Dr. Sacks didn't have the disk yet when we met with him, and said that really, without the report, we probably wouldn't get much good information. We did look at the scan, but it's very different from an MRI, and all Greek to me. He does have a very pretty brain. :-)

We'll know more as it comes. A song for you:

"Rest" by Skillet

Still, soft quietly spoken voice
That persistently calls my name
And quickens my heart to come
And I come

And I rest in the shelter of Your love
And I rest in the wonder of Your Grace
And I rest in the shelter of Your love
And I rest in the wonder of You

Embraced in the promise of You
Is rest for the weary soul
Releasing all that is mine
I reach for You

And I rest in the shelter of Your love
And I rest in the wonder of Your Grace
And I rest in the shelter of Your love
And I rest in the wonder of You

Take all the old and You make it new
Everything I give to You
You're the hope that can pull me through
Hallelujah

Saturday, August 13, 2005 10:57 PM CDT

Wednesday, August 10, 2005 0:49 AM CDT

***CHECK OUT THE BLUE DEVIL FOOTBALL LINK BELOW*** It includes pics of Z at football camp. When you get to the site, click the Players of the Week link.

PET scan will be Thursday afternoon at 1:15 pm. Dave has been very weak today, didn't get out of bed at all, except to go to the bathroom. No nausea and no headache, though, praise the Lord for that. He's been awake all day, but not talking very much, just nodding/shaking his head. And gesturing with his hand, but I can never figure out what he means.

He's such a sweet man, he kept waving to me tonight, and then tapping his chest. Finally I understood he wanted me to lay my head on his chest. So I did. And HE gave ME a backrub. I am most certainly the luckiest woman on the planet.

He's been talking more this evening, feeling good overall, just tired. Only one more day of the new chemo, then rest for a few weeks. Hopefully, not taking those HUGE pills will help.

He has a doc appt on Friday to see how the blood counts are doing on this new chemo.

Tonight Kenny told Dave how sad he was that he wouldn't be coaching or teaching this fall. He was really looking forward to playing football for his Dad, and being at the same school where Dad teaches. Dave said, "Don't worry, Kenny, I'll get back there." Pray for that, k? No energy to write more. Night all. S

Tuesday, August 9, 2005 1:12 AM CDT

New medical news: Dr. Rockhill (better known as Dr. Rock-n-Roll) said that a PET scan would give the same information, and we can have that done locally. Although it would have been nice to see our coastie friends, it's a good thing. Travel would be very hard on Dave at this point.

The sign thing isn't working. Kenny keeps turning it over to "Not a good time for visitors." In Kenny's world, it's never a good time for visitors. When I bought his name plaque, there was Kenneth, which meant "handsome" and Kenny which meant "gracious" Guess which one I got??? HA!

Hope you're enjoying the Peach Basket pictures. Gotta get some sleep.

Love, Shelley

Sunday, August 7, 2005 5:01 PM CDT

Medical news: Looks like we have to go to Seattle to get an MRI spectroscopy. Put in a call to our angelic nurse, Jodie, at the Gamma Knife Center at Harborview to help us get that set up. Meantime, we'll stay on the VP-16/Tarceva. We can always rotate back to the CPT-11/Avastin after a round of VP-16. Duke has several protocols running now that rotate chemo agents, thinking this may be a good way to delay the tumor developing resistance to any particular chemo. It's all speculation, but with good logic behind it.

Peach Basket News: We had a lot of fun. Dave was able to go to Zach's first game and Kate's first game. The kids both played really well and had a blast. Neither team made it too far in the tournament, but they had a great time. Kate looked awesome and scored several baskets. Zach had a buzzer-beater 2 point shot to tie one game. Very cool.

Erik, Evy, Canute and Sonja and Andrew, Adrienne, Jeremy and Brent all came for the weekend. We got to see Dale and Ginger yesterday. Bob and Judy and Bob and Mindy saw most of the kid's games. Mom and Dad stayed with Dave while the rest of us finished the tourney. The heat was simply blistering, and Dave couldn't stay out there all day.

Today we watched old video of the Currents, the band that Dave and Erik and Mark were in during college and a few years after. It was fun to see them, looking so young and rocking on stage, such stars, with the fan blowing their 80's hair all over. Evy and I were dancing together, the ultimate groupies. Ah, memories. We were all singing along, and took time to remember Steve, being Bono in the pizza parlor, with his red beret and long hair. We miss him, every inch of that 6'6" guy. The Doctor, leaving 30 minute messages from Hawaii on our answering machine, messages with l-o-n-g pauses. Giving hugs that just swallowed you up. Drumming like he was in an Olympic sprint. And smiling, always smiling. Sometimes smirking. We love you, Steve. Mark, wish you had been there today.

Dave is enjoying having visitors, but sometimes things are a little hairy around here, so we're implementing a new system.

There will be a sign in the window. One side says: "Visitors Welcome." The other side says, "Not a good time for visitors." So please, check the sign before you ring the bell.

Thank you for your continued prayers, support and love.

Shelley

Friday, August 5, 2005 1:38 AM CDT

Deb's right. Shampooing carpets, got the entryway and hallway painted. Grout still waiting for Denny, I guess!

Dave was feeling pretty weak today, but is awake more and quite alert and with it.

We heard from UW. They are questioning whether what shows on the scan is actually tumor growth or necrosis from the gamma knife. I was quite surprised by this, but they were the ones that did the gk, and know better than I, besides, that would actually be good news. So..... they say, get an MRI spectroscopy (a scan that can help determine if the tissue in question is growing/alive or dead, and stay on the CPT-11/Avastin. We meet with Dr. Sacks tomorrow to decide.

Peach Basket is this weekend. Zach and Kate are both very excited. The kids have had a good week. They went swimming with Deb & kids, Kenny has been doing BDAD every day and went to the pool again today, Zach has been riding bikes with friends, today he and a bud rode all the way to Bennington Lake to fish. I looked on our deck thermometer and it said 109*! Crazy kid. He came home covered in mud from hunting frogs. Kate's been all over the neighborhood, the McEuen's have kind of taken her in, and she's been able to go lots of places with them. Bob & Mindy took the kids on Tuesday, they had a lot of fun playing with the little ones.

Sigh. Kate got her school supplies yesterday. She can't wait for school to start. Kenny can't wait for football to start. Zach is more in my camp, mourning that the start of school is coming so soon. And on my birthday no less! How dare they take my kids on my birthday???? The nerve. I know I'm supposed to look forward to the first day of school and some time to myself, but I like having the kids around. They're sweet (most of the time), funny and very interesting people. Guess I'm a little biased.

Anyway, it's just one more sign that time is marching on, and I'm dragging my heels a little nowadays. I'm praying for God to give me what I need to keep moving forward.

In His grip,
Shelley

Right Here by Jeremy Camp

All the world is watching
All the world does care
Even when the world weighs on my shoulder now,
These feelings I can bear
Because I know,
That you�re here,

(CHORUS:)
Everywhere I go,
I know you're not far away,
You're right here
You're right here, yeah

All these thoughts I�ve wasted,
All these thoughts I fear,
Even when these thoughts have faded,
I still know that you�re here,
So I can rest my hope in you

(Repeat Chorus)

Many of times that I have felt alone,
Many of times that I have the world was crashing down upon me,
You always stood here by my side,
You were always there ...

Everywhere I go,
I know you're not far away,
You're right here
You're right here, yeah

Tuesday, August 2, 2005 4:56 PM CDT

Well, getting to the doctor appointment was an ordeal. Got Dave in the shower, after a near spill in the bathroom. Got him dressed, he had some yogurt and about a million pills. Then the puke came. He threw up once in the bedroom. Thought we had it under control, but when he stood up to come downstairs, puke again. Poor guy. We upped his dex, that should help, if he can keep it down! Zofran isn't really helping much, which tells us the nausea is due to swelling. Thanks for coming to help, Bob.

The visit with the doc was good. He said, "Big guy, I'm not giving up on you!" He prescribed the tarceva and VP-16, and we'll check next week on blood counts and how Dave's feeling, if all is good, we'll add temodar at that point. The pharmacy had to order the meds, so we won't start until tomorrow. Both are pills, so that will be easier than IV. I'm actually glad that the pharmacy didn't have them in stock, because I expect to hear from UW tomorrow after tumor board. Turns out Dave's scans didn't get there in time to get on the agenda for last Wednesday. Not sure what's up with Duke, but we're not waiting around.

After the appointment, we visited with Skip and Mom & Dad in the waiting room. Dave ate most of an IceBurg hamburger and blackberry shake and felt much better after eating something. Got him home and he's taking a little snooze. He was awake most of the night, so thankfully Jeffrey is coming over, which he doesn't want to miss a minute of, so he'll be awake this evening, and hopefully sleep tonight. And me, too. When he doesn't sleep, neither do I!

Going out with the girls tonight. Should be fun. Painted the living room yesterday. Still staring at that grout. Decided to paint rather than grout. Maybe it's just cuz grout is such an ugly word. I mean, say it to yourself....grout. Ick.

Love to you all, thanks for the prayers. Thanks for the cookies and pizza and everything, Diane, cookie lady. Love, Shelley

Sunday, July 31, 2005 8:45 PM CDT

Oh, Diane, down there in the other corner....don't you know that up here in Walla Walla it's ALWAYS football season???

Just ask Lisa, my across the street neighbor. Football. Monday through Sunday. Football. January through December. Football. Sunup through sundown. You guessed it. Football.

Love you!

PS. #1. No, but you do have to move several footballs and tees in order to mow the lawn. #2. Yes, often. #3. Yes, always. #4. Yes, despite this ex-cheerleader's yelling. Shook my pompoms, even, but no luck. #5. No, but considering the traffic we've had, I may just put them out with their little aprons and make some cash!

Sunday, July 31, 2005 0:22 AM CDT

Not much to update. Dave had some nausea today, and was very tired this morning. Actually, all day. He was pretty wobbly this morning. Up and down. Yesterday, he navigated stairs really well. Today, no go. We're learning to roll with the punches.

It's a wild rollercoaster ride. Joy and pain, terror and love, peace and panic. But I'd take this crazy path with Dave over a safe, sedate walk in the park with anyone else. If you know Dave, you know why.

Starting to take a toll on the kids. Everyone's pretty emotionally fragile right now, trying to adjust to the reality of what life is like in this moment, trying to keep hope alive, trying to find those peaceful moments in the day. It's hard. Scary for them to see Dad, who's always been big and strong and their source of safety and protection, be the one who needs help.

Deb took the kids to the pool today, a much needed break for them...thanks, hon. Got Mark's cd in the mail. Dave was so happy! Listening to "Driving the Eights" all day.

Dave's dad has had some dizziness, so pray for him, too, k?

I'm sure there's more, but I'm drawing a blank. Love you all, Shelley

Sunday, July 31, 2005 0:22 AM CDT

Not much to update. Dave had some nausea today, and was very tired this morning. Actually, all day. He was pretty wobbly this morning. Up and down. Yesterday, he navigated stairs really well. Today, no go. We're learning to roll with the punches.

Starting to take a toll on the kids. Everyone's pretty emotionally fragile right now, trying to adjust to the reality of what life is like in this moment, trying to keep hope alive, trying to find those peaceful moments in the day. It's hard. Scary for them to see Dad, who's always been big and strong and their source of safety and protection, be the one who needs help.

Deb took the kids to the pool today, a much needed break for them...thanks, hon. Got Mark's cd in the mail. Dave was so happy! Listening to "Driving the Eights" all day.

Dave's dad has had some dizziness, so pray for him, too, k?

I'm sure there's more, but I'm drawing a blank. Love you all, Shelley

Thursday, July 28, 2005 6:00 PM CDT

Things are deteriorating rapidly. It's frightening and heartbreaking. We got a wheelchair for Dave today. He's unable to walk even a short distance, and he's a big man, 6'2", so I can't help very much. He had another fall last night. He decided to get up and go to the bathroom without me and fell. No injuries, luckily he missed all the furniture and the bedroom is carpeted, but it scared me good. I said, "WHAT were you doing??" He said, "Well, I was trying to win you some money." I said, "Money??" He said, "Yeah, I was entering the stupidity contest." So as you can see, our Dave is still there. He's amazing. So strong, such a fighter. His body is betraying him at every corner, and he just smiles, hugs and tries harder. He finds humor in the tough spots, and although they call me the caregiver, it's the other way around. He cares for everyone around him. He reaches out, comforts, reassures, hugs, smiles, and makes us laugh.

We went down to the summer football camp today. As most of you know, Dave is a football coach. Has done football coaching at Walla Walla High School for 13 years. Our son, Zach, who's 13, today his team won the championship, his watermelon relay team won, and Zach was awarded best 8th grade player of the camp. It was beautiful. The kids at camp gave Dave a huge cheer. It was a shining moment for Dave and Zach, father and son on the football field together, beaming with pride in themselves and each other. Dave has had such an impact on so many young men through his teaching on and off the field. His patience, love, integrity and gentle strength show in everything he does.

Dave's enjoying visitors. He has never had a bigger smile than when he saw Erik, that was good for the soul, although I missed my dance partner. Denise and crew came, too. Denise and I wallpapered while Bob and Erik re-did the bathroom floor. We've also been lucky enough to see Bonnie and Denny, Dave says he needs his bite monitor back, Den! Aunt Nita, Uncle Ken and Grandma were here, too. Dave really brightens up when someone comes to see him. Jeffrey came and brought his keyboard, what a healing night for Dave...and for me, thanks Lisa, Teri and my ever-faithful, Deb. He was glad to see Cindy today, and Amy, you are an absolute gem!

Meanwhile, we're still waiting to hear from UW, UCSF, and Duke. Got a call from UCSF that we missed, called back, he'll call tomorrow. ***Update: he called back today. He's recommending VP-16 and Tarceva. He's also not completely sure that the CPT-11/Avastin has truly failed, because the regimen was screwed up with the hospital stay and low blood counts.

We'll have to make a decision soon, and it may be our last shot. Dave's not strong enough to withstand much more on the treatment front. It's scary how quickly things are declining. Not much more than two weeks ago, Dave was playing football with Zach and Kenny in the yard. Now he struggles to feed himself.

Dr. Prados & Dr. Spence have given thes options in the past: hydroxyurea, rapamycin, gleevec (Dave's tumor tested non-responsive to gleevec), accutane, VP-16, celebrex, or interferon. I wrote to Dr. Stark-Vance and asked if she had any experience with any of these or combos of these and if she would recommend one course of action over another. The only thing she said was that she'd recommend a combo rather than a single agent, and that she knows Duke uses a combo of hydroxyurea and gleevec, but that she hadn't seen any success with that yet.

So, thank you for all the uplifting, caring notes. I appreciate you all. I haven't time right now to reply to everyone individually, but please, know we read the notes and are warmed by them.

It means a lot to Dave when people sign the guestbook. We have a little ritual, before bed, we call up the website, (well, actually now I have to write them down and bring to Dave), but we read the entries from people that day, and then we pray for everyone who wrote in that day. It is a magical, peaceful, healing time of day for us. I am continually amazed. Even with all that's going on, Dave wants to get to the guestbook, not to see who's written to him, but to see who he can pray for today. He's been that way from the very first. In January of 1997, he woke up from surgery, looked into my eyes and said, "Not today." Which is our little private joke...when we were dating, he used to ask me to marry him every day. Not willing to close any options, I'd say, "Not today!" So it was his way of telling me that he was still Dave. Anyway, after he said, "Not today," a while later, he asked, "Well, what did they find in there?" I told him it was cancer. He thought for a minute and said, "There are going to be some kids at the high school who will have a hard time with that, we need to pray for them." That's the kind of heart he has. Later he said, "Hospitals are for sick people. Get me out of here." That's the kind of spirit that's been our biggest ally in this fight.

God, please, please, we need him so much. Please, please heal him.

PS. Please pray for a woman we know from the list, she has two girls, and her husband, who suffered from a brain tumor, ended his own life. They are devastated.

Also, for one of my little toddlers, Nolan, and his family. He has been diagnosed with leukemia and his family is staying at Ronald McDonald house, far from home, enduring chemotherapy treatments for this little one who isn't even two years old yet. His prognosis is very good, 85 percent cure rate from what I've been told, but they have a long road of difficult treatments ahead of them.

Tuesday, July 26, 2005 8:15 PM CDT

Today we're listening to the Currents, Dave's voice, strong and clear, wishing we could stop the world, right here, right now, holding on to these rare moments, these quiet spaces, this time together.

Moving forward using all my breath
Making love to you was never second best
I saw the world thrashing all around your face
Never really knowing it was always mesh and lace

I�ll stop the world and melt with you
You�ve seen the difference and it�s getting better all the time
There�s nothing you and I won�t do
I�ll stop the world and melt with you

(you should know better)
Dream of better lives the kind which never hate
(you should see why)
Dropped in the state of imaginary grace
(you should know better)
I made a pilgrimage to save this humans race
(you should see why)
What I�m comprehending a race that long gone bye

(I�ll stop the world) I�ll stop the world and melt with you
(I�ll stop the world) you�ve seen the difference and it�s getting better all the time
(let�s stop the world) there�s nothing you and I won�t do
(let�s stop the world) I�ll stop the world and melt with you

The future�s open wide

(let�s stop the world) I�ll stop the world and melt with you
(let�s stop the world) I�ve seen some changes but it�s getting better all the time
(let�s stop the world) there�s nothing you and I won�t do
(let�s stop the world) I�ll stop the world and melt with you

The future�s open wide

Hmmm hmmm hmmm
Hmmm hmmm hmmm hmmm
Hmmm hmmm hmmm
Hmmm hmmm hmmm hmmm

I�ll stop the world and melt with you (let�s stop the world)
You�ve seen the difference and it�s getting better all the time (let�s stop the world)
There�s nothing you and I won�t do (let�s stop the world)
I�ll stop the world and melt with you (let�s stop the world)
I�ll stop the world and melt with you (let�s stop the world)
I�ll stop the world and melt with you (let�s stop the world)

Monday, July 25, 2005 4:55 PM CDT

Now a different kind of waiting.

The scan shows growth. We expected that. We didn't expect the extent. It's fully crossed the corpus callosum--we're now dealing with a "butterfly glioma." The means it's invaded the frontal lobe on the left side. It's also grown greatly on the right side, more in the frontal lobe, and now there is parietal lobe and occiptal lobe involvement. Many of these areas are clearly outside the area where they did the gamma knife.

Scans went to Duke, UW and UCSF today. We'll wait to hear about next options. There are some other chemos out there, none very good. Radiation and surgery are not options.

We walk through this valley, and cling to each other and to our Savior.

Love, Shelley

Take My Life by Jeremy Camp

Here I am before You now
I'm like a child reaching out
Here I am I'm giving all I can
Breaking my pride I feel I'm through
Shattered inside I run to You
And now I give it all to You

Take my life take my mind
Take my soul take my will
I am Yours now, and I give it all to You

Laying all down before my King
Offering all my everything
Laying all down before the One I serve
I can understand the reasons why
You came on this earth and died
And now I give it all to You

I can feel You on my shoulder
So I know that You are there
I can see You paint my picture
The beauty is all there

Monday, July 25, 2005 11:40 AM CDT
Monday,
waiting
waiting
waiting
praying
praying
praying

we get results at 1:15 pm. Please pray with us.
In His grip,
Shelley

Thursday, July 21, 2005 12:19 AM CDT
CANCER SUCKS!

We went to the cancer center today. As expected, Dr. Sachs wants to move Dave's MRI up sooner because of all the symptoms he's been having. So the MRI is tomorrow at 4:00 pm. Please, please pray your hardest, most earnest pleas on Dave's behalf.

He could not have avastin today because he has a HUGE bruise on his neck where he fell and hit the edge of the table.

He could not have CPT-11 because the doc doesn't want to give him any more CPT-11 until they know for sure whether the tumor is growing or not.

We have an appointment Monday to get results of the scan.

Doc said to keep Dave's decadron at the 8 mg level for now, until we know what's going on.

We're getting a walker today. Getting into the cancer center was horrible today, it almost killed both of us. Hopefully, Dave will be able to manage a walker. If not, it will have to be a wheelchair.

We're in the midst of painting and getting ready to do some work in the bathroom to make it safer for Dave. The plywood floor in the bathroom is just not gonna cut it any more. And we really need to have a shower in the tub in the main bathroom, because it takes Dave so long to do everything that the kids can't get in to shower. Sigh. And: EEEK. Like home improvements/repairs were just the fun adventure we need right now. Okay. Enough whine. I'm just thankful for Dads (mine and Dave's) who are so generous with their help and carpentry skills.

Dave's sleeping now. Before he fell asleep, he said, "I'm sorry." My heart is broken.

Love, Michelle

PS. Heard this song on the radio on the way back from the cancer center. No matter how we despair, there is hope, and our lives are worth enough that He died for us.

I Know by Seventh Day Slumber

Wonder what can be so bad
That it makes you want to die
I wonder what could be so tragic
Makes you want to take your life
You have your Savior on the cross
While you sit on the throne
Put yourself up on that cross
Put your Savior on the throne

And I know it's hard to take what's happening
And I know life is tough sometimes
And I know it seems like there's no hope for you
And I know your life is worth more than you can see

It's hard to see beyond your pain
When you feel so dead inside
It's hard to see what you've been given
It's hard to find the hope in life

And I know it's hard to take what's happening
And I know life is tough sometimes
And I know it seems like there's no hope for you
And I know your life is worth more than you can see

And I say look at Jesus' hands
Those scars are there for you
You know He understands
What you're going through

Wednesday, July 20, 2005 8:54 PM CDT
Wednesday,
thank you all who hit your knees last night and gave God an "earful" like Diane. Prayer power, combined with an increase in Dave's dex, has made a difference. He's clearer today. Was up for a while, and although still shaky, he could walk. He hasn't eaten a lot, but what he ate stayed down. We'll take what we can get at this point.

I'm still only on chapter 2 of Harry Potter, and Z is really giving me a hard time. Drat. I finished 2 books last week: Little Earthquakes and Angry Housewives Eating Bon Bons, but this week, nothing doing. And Z thinks it's funny that he read a book faster than I did. I'm slipping!

Kenny is in a much better mood today as well. He's been quite worried about Dave, and for Kenny, it means he struggles with getting angry. Angry at the docs, angry at the disease, and sometimes angry at Dad and the rest of us. It's so good to see him smile.

Zach's spent the last few days in a cave. He hurt his leg in All-Stars, and now hurt it again at BDAD (Blue Devil Athletic Development-agility, fitness and weight training), so he's been laid up, reading, reading, reading. I think he's a little bummed.

Kate's been practicing for Peach Basket. Zach has played with the same 3 guys since they were 8. Now 3 of the little sisters, plus a neighbor girl, have joined to make the little sister's team. They are so cute. The boys haven't practiced at all, but the girls are pretty serious about the whole thing. Peach Basket is a street 3-on-3 basketball tournament they do here. They block off all the downtown streets and set up hoops. It's a ton of fun. If anyone can come that weekend, it will be a blast! You're all invited!

Love, Shelley

Wednesday, July 20, 2005 0:49 AM CDT
Hello all. Okay, prayer warriors, it's time to increase the time on our knees!!

Dave has had a hard time these past few days. He's pretty much lost all function on the left side. He can still move his left arm, but can't use his hand at all. His leg shakes so much when he tries to stand that he's been pretty much confined to bed for the past few days. His right arm and leg also have tremors. He's been confused some, too. It's very scary for all of us.

He has had some trouble swallowing, tending to choke. He's eating only sporatically, and he's thrown up a few times.

He has times where he seems to be himself, where he's alert and with us. And there are times when he's pretty blank. His face is droopy on the left side.

We upped his steroids to see if perhaps the symptoms are due to swelling from the gamma knife. Too early to tell if that's working.

The gk folks told us that 3-6 months after gamma knife that he'd have extreme fatigue and that the dying of the tumor cells in the treatment area would cause the same symptoms as the tumor....loss of balance, motor trouble with his left side, confusion and memory loss. Looks like we've got that in spades. He's due for a scan in early August. We see the doctor on Thursday, I'm expecting they'll move the scan sooner. If it shows growth outside the gamma knife treatment field, we'll know this chemo is no longer working. If it shows growth within the treatment field, then it might be necrosis, and we'll ask for a PET scan to determine if the tissue is living or dead. Surgery this time is not an option. Dave is not strong enough to survive a surgery, especially when he's on blood thinners. I don't know what our options are. I do know they are few.

Please pray for Dave. Pray for his fighting spirit to return. Pray for him to feel the energy of the love that we all have for him. Pray for us all to hang on to the hope that's seen us through. These are dark days.

We love you all. Shelley

Sunday, July 17, 2005 4:40 PM CDT
Dave had his doctor appointment on Thursday. Good news, the blood counts are rebounding, and he didn't need to take any procrit. This was the week off chemo. Yeah!

Dave's still quite tired. Left side is losing function, which concerns me quite a bit. He had a very nasty fall this week and cannot grip with his left hand any more. His appetite is pretty good when he's awake, but having only one hand to work with makes eating a chore.

You should see Zach. He knows that doorways and steps are difficult for Dad, so he just positions himself so that Dad can use his shoulder for support. He's patient, and just waits until Dave is ready. It's one of those bittersweet moments. A young boy should not have to guide and support his Dad. It should be the other way around. And yet, Zach quietly assumes this responsibility, shouldering it with grace, dignity and love. I'm proud of him. And my heart breaks for him.

Thanks to Sarah and family for inviting us last night. It was fun to be out of the house for a bit. Happy Birthday, Sarah.

Zach's reading Harry Potter, thank goodness he's almost done. My turn next.

Love, Shelley

Thursday, July 14, 2005 3:08 AM CDT
A pretty regular day! A normal day! For the Meyer household, this is unequivocally a MIRACLE!

After weeks of sleeping most of the time, being weak and disoriented when he was awake, having difficulty telling the difference between dreams and reality (let me tell you the one where he thought we were on an island and there was a conspiracy to steal someone's pile of cash.....) Dave got up this morning....morning I said, not evening, not afternoon, morning....and had breakfast. Slowly. Then lunch. Then Wendye came by with cookies and lemonade! She told Dave to stay up for another hour. And I went to teach my class. Came home at 9:30 and Dave was still awake.

And not only awake, but alert. With it. Groovin'. No fuzzy, glazed donut look in his eyes.

He got pretty tired by the end of the day, but wow. To see him up and around and in conversations was pretty amazing. And wanting to be up. The last few weeks, anytime he was up, it was because I insisted he get up.

Pray that it lasts, that it's a turning of a corner, that this week off will give his counts time to rebound. The boys got fight in him yet! We're celebrating!

You are Worthy of My Praise by Jeremy Camp

I will give, you all my worship
I will give, you all my praise
You alone, I long to worship
You alone, are worthy of my praise

I will worship, with all of my heart
I will praise you, with all of my strength
I will seek you, all of my days
I will follow, all of your ways

I will give you, all my worship
I will give you, all my praise
You alone, I long to worship
You alone, are worthy of my praise

You are worthy of my praise

I will bow down, and I'll hail you as king
I will serve you, I will give you everything
I will lift up my eyes to your throne
I will trust you, I will trust you alone

I will give you all my worship
I will give you all my praise
You alone I long to worship
You alone are worthy of my praise

I will give you all my worship
I will give you all my praise
You alone I long to worship
You alone are worthy of my praise

You are worthy, You are worthy
You are worthy of my praise

Oh, I will give you all my worship
I will give you all my praise
You alone I long, I long to worship
Well, you alone are worthy of my praise

You are worthy of my praise

Wednesday, July 13, 2005 12:25 AM CDT
Today we rest.

No chemo. Dave's got a doctor's appointment tomorrow afternoon, and will get a shot of procrit, but it's that magical week where the week off from CPT-11 coincides with the week off from Avastin. Whoopee. Maybe this will perk Dave up, having a rest.

Next chemo is next Thursday, the 21st.

Here is our family theme song:

Now And Forever by True Vibe

Hands on the clock count the minutes, the hours
Your love has the power, stronger than time or space
You're the rock that I stand on, my anchor
To You I will give all the praise
And there's nothing that I've got to hide
With the power of God on my side

Now and forever
I promise I will always love You
All my life
One thing I know for sure
We'll be together
Every day I'll love You better
More and more
Now and forever I'm Yours
Now and forever I'm Yours

Lost in a dream, under stars, under moonlight,
You are the one Light leading me out of the dark
You're the breath that I breathe, all that I need
Nothing will keep us apart
And I'm giving You my guarantee
That in You I will always believe...I believe

All that I have I'll give to You
You know that there's nothing that I won't do
Whatever it takes, whatever it takes

Saturday, July 9, 2005 8:28 PM CDT
Ahh baseball. It's over for the summer. Sigh. The kids made a good effort, but fell to Kennewick today. Didn't rally back this time. They only scored 3 runs. It was tough, but fun. Zach had all good at-bats, (1 walk, 1 hit and I can't remember the others, but he got on base every time...and he scored 2 of the 3 runs.) He had a spectacular jumping catch at short stop. He had one dropped ball--he caught it on the edge of his mitt and it squeezed out. Deb calls those snow-cones. And an error--just got by him. Made a few other plays. He got himself into a pickle between third and home, which was very exciting, especially since he was quick enough to get back on base safe! He pitched a couple of innings, and held his own pretty well against a good hitting team. I think he only walked one batter and it was when he tried to throw a curve and the ball popped out and hit the batter. Oops! Anyway, it wasn't the super game he had yesterday, but it was good and he had fun. Deb, Jake and Megan came with us. Jake is turning into quite the photographer, and Z is always glad to have his "second mom" there.

Dave's very, very tired. Last night he had the same pain in his lung that he had when he went to the hospital on Memorial Day. It was pretty scary. He was even making the Chewbacca noise. I gave him some oxycodone and he fell asleep, but I stayed up most of the night making sure he was breathing. So I'm tired, too.

Breathing by Lifehouse

I�m finding my way back to sanity again
Though I don�t really know what I�m gonna do
When I get there...
Take a breath and hold on tight
And spin around one more time
And gracefully fall back to the arms of grace

�cause I�m hanging on every word you say
And even if you don�t wanna speak tonight
That�s all right, all right with me
�cause I want nothing more
Than to sit outside heaven�s door
And listen to you breathing
It�s where I wanna be, yeah
Where I wanna be...

I�m looking past the shadows in my mind
Into the truth and I�m
Trying to identify the voices in my head
God, I wish it were you
Let me feel one more time what it
Feels like to feel alive
And break these callouses off of me one more time

�cause I�m hanging on every word you say
And even if you don�t wanna speak tonight
That�s all right, all right with me
�cause I want nothing more
Than to sit outside your door
And listen to you breathing
It�s where I wanna be, yeah-ah...

I don�t want a thing from you
I bet you�re tired of me
Waiting for the scraps to fall off
Of your table to the ground...
�cause I just wanna be here now...

�cause I�m hanging on every word you say
And even if you don�t wanna speak tonight
That�s all right, all right with me
�cause I want nothing more
Than to sit outside heaven�s door
And listen to you breathing
It�s where I wanna be, yeah...

�cause I�m hanging on every word you say
And even if you don�t wanna speak tonight
That�s all right, all right with me
�cause I want nothing more
Than to sit outside heaven�s door
And listen to you breathing
It�s where I wanna be, yeah
Where I wanna be...
Where I wanna be...

Friday, July 8, 2005 8:47 PM CDT
WHEW! Turns out Dave got the message backward. Zach's pertussis test was NEGATIVE. YIPEE!! We're happy about that one!

The All-Star game was great today. Zach played short stop and batted 4th in the line-up. He had a double, a single, and 2 walks. Very exciting game. They were down 1-11 at one point in the game, and came back to tie it. It came down to the bottom of the 7th and Pullman managed to get in that one run, to win the game 13-12. The kids did great. They have a lot to be proud of. Zach pulled his quad (thigh) muscle running to first in his first at-bat in the top of the 1st. Had to sit out a couple of innings, but ice and ibuprofen, and he was back at it. It was a really fun game. They play tomorrow at 10:00 in Kennewick. Hoping, hoping they win that one.

Baseball is just the best.

Love, Shelley

Thursday, July 7, 2005 6:51 PM CDT
Hi everyone!

Chemo day...always good to see Alex's face. Makes the trip to the dreary basement worth it.

Good news, Dave's blood counts are hanging in the barely okay range. He got CPT-11 and avastin today. His eye is still bothering him, we'll be making an appointment with Dr. Poff, his optometrist. Dave's having a lot of "drippy nose" and blowing his nose a lot. Last few days that's been bloody, a concern because of avastin and blood thinners. So far, nothing too severe, but we're watching and praying about this. Doc gave him some allergy meds, hopefully that will help.

Dave's been sleeping 18-20 hours a day. Seems to be most awake at night after 11:00 or midnight. He's like a newborn, got his days and nights mixed up. Doc gave him some ambien, hoping to turn the schedule around. Dave doesn't want to take any more pills. In fact, that's always been an issue, and is now huge. With his short term memory being, well, pretty much blotto....he's always arguing with me over meds. Always insisting he took them. Luckily, he's only got the tegretol to take for the most part (anti-seizure meds). He's almost weaned off the evil decadron. And once he's off decadron, he can stop the pepcid.

Having some trouble with what Dave calls SAD...Sudden Acute Diarrhea. Poor guy. He's also losing weight pretty rapidly. Partly because he's never awake to eat!

So, all you faithful prayer warriors, there's a whole laundry list of pretty minor stuff to pray for. There's also a biggie. The right side of Dave's face is drooping again, showing some paralysis. It was quite pronounced before surgery in Jan 05, and got better after the surgery. It's the tumor invading the motor fibers on the right side. It also affects his left leg, which tends to drag. The leg has been pretty much the same since Jan, tends to be worse when he's tired. But the facial paralysis had gotten a lot better, and today it's worse again. This could be tumor growth, or it could be swelling. If it's swelling, we might have to up the decadron again. Ick. But better than the alternative.

The other thing is, all of this could be due to the gamma knife he had 5 months ago. They said that in 3-6 months, he might have extreme fatigue and the same kind of symptoms that he had with the tumor. So it could also be due to those cells dying off. We hope that's the ticket. Necrosis is nasty stuff in and of itself. The hope with necrosis is that eventually the body will dispose of those dead cells, and necrosis is pretty self-limiting, unlike tumor growth, which continues unchecked. During the last surgery, much of what they thought was tumor growth turned out to be radiation necrosis from the Aug 05 gamma knife. Only time will tell. The August MRI may tell us something, but not necessarily. Necrosis and tumor growth look much the same on an MRI. Sometimes an MRS (Spectroscopy Imaging) or PET scan can tell the difference, but not always. Guess we'll cross that bridge when we get there. Doc considered doing a scan now, and decided we could wait until August.

Zach's All-Star baseball tournament starts tomorrow. He's very excited. The tournament is in Kennewick. They have a game at 1:00 and if they win, one at 7:00. Then the games Sat and Sun will depend on if they win or lose. It's double elimination and the championship game is on Monday. Yay! We get to watch more baseball!

Dave took a message from the pediatrician. It looks like Zach's test was positive for pertussis. No wonder. The good news is that whooping cough is most contagious in the first week, when the patient has the cold symptoms: runny nose, sore throat. Well, that was clear back in May. They say that after three weeks it's no longer contagious, so we're past that. Mindy is watching Caleb and Annalee closely, since small children are more at risk, especially if they've had some but not all of the pertussis vaccine series, usually completed with a booster between ages 4-6. For children who are vaccinated, the immunity wanes around age 11. Luckily, whooping cough is not a terribly dangerous or debilitating disease for older children and adults. It was WAY easier than chicken pox! Way! I asked the doc about Dave being low on white cells and if this was a concern. He said, nope, that if Dave was going to get it, he'd be showing the signs a while ago, so we can assume he's safe.

I think that's all the news for now.

I've been struggling with positive attitude lately. Fatigue leads to impatience for me. This is a long journey, a marathon, and I've spent much of my time sprinting. It's catching up to me. Letting go is not my strong suit, I'm quite the control freak. I know, this may surprise you. HA! There are some things beyond my control, however, and I've been beating my head against a brick wall, trying to make things something they aren't. Did I tell you acceptance is one of my weaker suits as well? I think this has benefitted Dave over the years in this war. I've left no stone unturned in this figth. I've spent dozens of nights with no sleep, talking to people all over the world, learning as much as I can. Doctors, nutritionists, patients, herbalists, homeopathic doctors, faith healers, pharmacists, nurses, acupuncturists, caregivers, authors, the list goes on. We've been in battle mode for over eight years now--no holds barred, full boar for over two. (To say nothing of the parallel battle we wage with autism!) I guess I'm just sensing the need for a change to happen within me. I keep waiting for normal to return. (Yeah, I know, how normal was it EVER around this house?) I'm not adjusting, I'm fighting and stalling and kicking and screaming. (The kicking is mostly inside. The screaming actually happens.) I guess I'm struggling with a lot of really big issues right now. And I think, as always, I am the foil to Dave. He's so tired, he has no trouble with living in the (awake) moment, and just being. I'm used to seeing more spark, more fight. So I try to pull it out of him. And get more intense about, well pretty much everything. And I'm pretty intense to begin with. Anyway, I need prayers from you all. Prayers that God will set my path right, that I will recognize what is "resting" and what is "giving in." That I will know when to push and when to just relax. That I will learn to smile and laugh with Dave when he buttons his shirt cock-eyed or forgets who he's talking to on the phone in the middle of a conversation or breaks another plate because he forgot he was holding it....instead of sighing with exasperation. He takes it all in stride, finding enjoyment in all things. I so wish I was more like him.

It's interesting, there's this movie floating around cancer circles: www.thesurvivormovie.com It's a great little clip, meant to be very inspiring. The main theme is "I have cancer, but cancer does NOT have me." Which is a wonderful, positive attitude. I like much of the movie a lot. It's a little short in the faith department (to quote my good friend, Laurie), but okay. But there is this one thing that BUGS me!

~Caveat~ I am the first to acknowledge that positive attitude, and making the best of what comes your way is key. That some of us are dealt some pretty crappy stuff, and if we have faith, God will help us bring good from that. Wonderful things, wonderful people have come into our lives because of cancer. Don't get me wrong.

But there's this part in the movie that talks about cancer being a "lesson" and that when we have a setback, it's an opportunity to relearn the "lesson." Kinda sets my teeth on edge.

I don't believe that God or fate or anyone or anything sent this horrible disease to us in order to teach us a lesson! We all learn from what happens to us, if we are open to it. But the idea that cancer is a lesson bugs me. Makes me batty. (Okay, I revised the cuss words out of that....this is a G-rated website after all.)

And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose. For those God foreknew he also predestined to be conformed to the likeness of his Son....Romans 8:28-29a

For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you a hope and a future....I have loved you with an everlasting love; I have drawn you with loving-kindness. Call to me and I will answer you and tell you great and unsearchable things you do not know. Jeremiah 29:11;31:3b;33:3

Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall trouble or hardship or persecution or famine or nakedness or danger or sword?...No in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loves us. For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord. Romans 8:35,37-39

Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day. For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen. For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal. II Corinthians 4:16-18

I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances....I can do everything through him who gives me strength. Philippians 4:11b-13

And these, that do remind me that God will use our earthly suffering to bring great things, if we have faith in Him.

..."My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ's sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong. II Corinthians 12:9b-10

Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! In his great mercy he has given us new birth into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, and into an inheritance that can never perish, spoil or fade--kept in heaven for you, who through faith are shielded by God's power until the coming of the salvation that is ready to be revealed in the last time. In this you greatly rejoice, though now for a little while you may have had to suffer grief in all kinds of trials. These have come so that your faith--of greater worth than gold, which perishes even though refined by fire--may be proved genuine and may result in praise, glory and honor when Jesus Christ is revealed. Though you have not seen him, you love him; and even though you do not see him now, you believe in him and are filled with an inexpressible and glorious joy for you are receiving the goal of your faith, the salvation of your souls.
I Peter 1:3-9

Waxing philosophical today.
Clinging to the promises, claiming Dave's perfect healing, fiercely praying for that perfect healing to happen here on earth, feebly trying to make my will, my desires reality.

Shelley

Tuesday, July 5, 2005 5:02 PM CDT
We got transportation for Thursday, thank you for your offers, Tracy, Marty/Max, Peggy, and Laura. We are so grateful!

Still Believe
by Jeremy Camp

Scattered words and empty thoughts
Seem to pour from my heart
I've never felt so torn before
Seems I don't know where to start
But it's now I feel Your grace fall like rain
From every fingertip washing away my pain

I still believe in Your faithfulness
I still believe in Your truth
I still believe in Your holy word
Even when I don't see, I still believe

Though the questions still fog up my mind
With promises I still seem to bear
Even when answers slowly unwind
It's my heart I see You prepare
But it's now that I feel Your grace fall like rain
From every fingertip washing away my pain

The only place I can go is into Your arms
Where I throw to You my feeble prayers in brokeness
I can see that this is Your will for me
Help me to know You are near

Sunday, July 3, 2005 4:19 PM CDT
Happy Independence Day! We are so fortunate to live where we do, and are grateful to all those who sacrificed in the service and defense of our country so that we could enjoy the freedoms we often take for granted. Uncle Darren, this one's for you!

We've got a campfire going in the backyard now most evenings. Come by, bring your own marshmallows.

Sleepy days. "Tired" continues to be the word around here. Dave's been feeling very nauseous, too, which concerns me. He's not eating much.

Mom & Dad left, had some things to do. The kids are drifting and kind of lost without them here. We miss Amy and Luke, too.

My dad's best buddy from middle school/high school died a few days ago. His name was Jim Pruitt. They are planning to go to the service in Bellingham. I'm glad that Dad got to see Jim again a few weeks ago.

We need somebody to stay with kids on Thursday while Dave gets chemo. From 8:30 am to about noon. Involves getting boys back and forth to BDAD, too. The pay is terrible for this job, and the perks are worse. :-) Call me if you're the one! 522-5429. PS. We still haven't got Z's whooping cough results, so if you have kids under the age of 5, or kids who aren't fully immunized, you're not the one.

Strong Tower by Kutless

When I wander through the desert
And I'm longing for my home
All my dreams have gone astray
When I'm stranded in the valley
And I'm tired and all alone
It seems like I've lost my way

I go running to Your mountain
Where your mercy sets me free

(chorus)
You are my strong tower
Shelter over me
Beautiful and mighty
Everlasting King
You are my strong tower
Fortress when I'm weak
Your name is true and holy
And Your face is all I seek

In the middle of my darkness
In the midst of all my fear
You're my refuge and my hope
When the storm of life is raging
And the thunder's all I hear
You speak softly to my soul

Thursday, June 30, 2005 4:34 PM CDT
Underdog by Audio Adrenaline

I am so weak and I'm so tired
It's hard for me to
Find enough strength to feed the fires
That fuel my ego
And consequently all my pride has all but died
Which leaves me
Down on my knees
Back to the place I
Should have started from

(CHORUS)
Been beat up
Been broken down
Nowhere but up
When you're facedown
On the ground
I'm in last place
If I place at all
But there's hope for this underdog !
That's the way, uh-huh, we like it!
That's the way, uh-huh, we like it!
You can call me the underdog

I'm in this race to win a prize
The odds against me
The world has plans for my demise
What they don't see
Is that a winner is not judged by his small size
But by the substitute he picks to run the race
And mine's already won

Tuesday, June 28, 2005 5:59 PM CDT
THE PIC ABOVE IS FOR ALL OF YOU WHO SAY: SHELLEY, WHY ARE THERE NO PICTURES OF YOU???

Thank you for all the prayers.

The port (blasted thing!) worked the first time, exactly as it's supposed to. Long story here, but the port has mostly been a pain in the chest, so I'm glad it finally worked.

Dave's counts are low, but not too critical. They are continuing to give him the procrit, which is keeping his red cells barely in the normal range. They'll continue that at his weekly infusion. His whites have been drifting down slowly, and today they prescribed neupogen. It means another shot in the tummy. Poor Dave. His tummy looks like fireworks....all these lovely explosions of red, purple, blue and green. Sigh.

Dave seems stronger today, able to stand up/sit down without too much shaking. Stairs are better, too. He's still pretty wobbly while walking, tends to drift a lot. Looks a little tipsy. His focus is getting a little better, too. He is staying in conversations better. Finishing them is still a problem, and the short-term memory is pretty much non-existent at this point. But overall, I think he's improved a lot since the hospital stay. We've got a way to go before he gets back to how he was before the clots, but day by day, it's better. I try to remember that God's time is not necessarily going to bend to my will or my schedule. I don't succeed much, but I try. My patience is pretty much shot. I'm tired. I'm easily frustrated. I feel pretty battered right now. And, get this....it looks like Z has whooping cough. Sigh again.

Gotta feed kids and get to Jake's baseball game. Thank goodness Mom is here to help with dinner!

KOKO! Shelley

PS. Funny how there's always a song, isn't it? God is offering us "more than fine" every day, every hour, every minute. Today I need reminding that we were never promised calm waters, only safe passage.

More Than Fine
Switchfoot

When I wake in the morning,
I want to blow into pieces.
I want more than just ok, more than just ok.
When I'm up with the sunrise
I want more than just blue skies.
I want more than just ok, more than just ok.

I'm not giving up, giving up, not giving up now.
I'm not giving up, giving up, not backing down.

More than fine, more than bent on getting by.
More than fine, more than just ok.

When I'm wet with the sunshine.
I want more than just a good time.
I want more than just ok, more than just ok.

I'm not giving up, giving up, not giving up now.
I'm not giving up, giving up, not selling out.

More than fine, more than bent on getting by.
More than fine, more than just ok.
More than fine, more than bent on getting by.
More than fine, more than just ok.

More than oceans away from the dawn.
More than oceans away from the dawn.
More than oceans away from who we are
More than oceans, more than oceans, yeah.

More than fine, more than bent on getting by.
More than fine, more than just ok.
More than fine, more than bent on getting by.
More than fine, more than just ok.

Tuesday, June 28, 2005 10:31 AM CDT
Chemo day!

Please pray that Dave's counts are up so that he can get the CPT-11 as scheduled today. Also pray the dern port works like it's supposed to! (grrrr)

Had a great trip to Idaho...more later, with pics. Kenny had a blast at football camp. The players are fabulous.

Zach ended a great season (a losing team, but Z had a great year and kept his spirits up). He found out that he made the 13 year old All-Star Team! He's very excited about that. They get introduced at the championship game tomorrow, and we're all excited and proud. MORE baseball...it just doesn't get any better than that!

Amy and Luke are visiting with Grandma and Grandpa. How fun for the kids.

My mom and dad are still here. They've been amazing. So willing to drop everything to come and help. They have their own lives, their own committments, and yet, when we need them, they are here unconditionally. It's more than we could ask for. We are blessed beyond belief to have them and their giving hearts and hands. I don't know what I'd do without them holding down the fort, taxi-ing kids and helping Dave so I can still work. Thank you Lord, for providing this gift of caring through them.

Thanks for the many notes this week.

Love you all! Shell

Wednesday, June 22, 2005 1:26 PM CDT
Chemo day.

Well, Dave's white cell count was too low to get chemo today. He's been on some kind of chemo continuously for two years now, and it's really taking a toll on his bone marrow. We're switching to CPT-11 two weeks on, one week off. Same number of doses in a six-week cycle, but hopefully having the break every third week will help his counts rebound. They could give him neupogen, a white blood cell booster, but it would mean 14 days with no chemo, so we're going to try this new schedule first.

His red cells are low also, and they gave him another shot of procrit.

The avastin doesn't affect the blood counts, because it's a monoclonal antibody treatment, not a chemo. So that will continue every other week. Dave got avastin today.

Thanks for all the prayers and the notes in the guestbook. It made Dave smile to see the entries today. It really does uplift his spirits. He's so blasted tired. And fighting an eye infection, too. He's losing weight pretty rapidly...6 pounds this week. Anyway, every note helps.

Standing on the promises,
Shelley

PS. Take a look at Z's smile! He's so happy to have those braces off!

Wednesday, June 22, 2005 2:17 AM CDT
A wonderful Father's Day we had. We are so blessed...surrounded by the love of so many great dads.

Today was baseball...Zach's friend, Jake, invited him to play on his team, since they were short players. It was a great night. Deb and I loved watching the boys together on the same team again! Zach hit two doubles and played catcher the whole game. They won!! It's a lot of fun to be on a winning team once in a while!

Kenny is in Moscow, Idaho at the University of Idaho football camp with all the rest of the Wa-Hi football players. (This is why Jake's team was short...lots of kids at football camp.) Kenny is having a lot of fun. He's playing wide receiver, said they lost one scrimmage today and won one, and he caught some passes. Very cool. He's having the time of his life, and we miss him terribly! We're going to Idaho on Thursday to watch some of the scrimmage on Friday and bring him home. Can't wait to see him. He's had fun calling us with the cell phone. What a crack-up!

Kate's latest thing was getting bitten by a spider. What a scene! We had to google it to be sure it wasn't a brown recluse or hobo spider...thanks, big brother Z for bringing THAT to her attention. Thought it might have been a hobo, but finger is all better today, so guessing it's not. She's having fun playing with the neighborhood girl gang. There are four of them that swarm up and down the street through the houses and yards, pestering the big brothers and squealing a lot. I just shake my head when I think of what it will be like around here in 4 years when they're all teenagers!

Dave is slowly feeling a bit better. He got up and walked a little today. He went to the baseball game, sat in the van because of thunder, rain and lightening, but enjoyed getting out for a bit. His pain is a lot better, but he is still exhausted...and having some nausea, too. He says eating is just a chore. Thanks for all of you who are lifting him up in prayer. It's been a really, really hard few weeks. I'm hoping that getting up a little more and exercising will help him regain some strength and energy.

Keep signing that guestbook, please. Dave loves to read the entries before he falls asleep, and he prays for each person who writes in.

Love you all, Shelley

Wednesday, June 22, 2005 2:17 AM CDT
A wonderful Father's Day we had. We are so blessed...surrounded by the love of so many great dads.

Today was baseball...Zach's friend, Jake, invited him to play on his team, since they were short players. It was a great night. Deb and I loved watching the boys together on the same team again! Zach hit two doubles and played catcher the whole game. They won!! It's a lot of fun to be on a winning team once in a while!

Kenny is in Moscow, Idaho at the University of Idaho football camp with all the rest of the Wa-Hi football players. (This is why Jake's team was short...lots of kids at football camp.) Kenny is having a lot of fun. He's playing wide receiver, said they lost one scrimmage today and won one, and he caught some passes. Very cool. He's having the time of his life, and we miss him terribly! We're going to Idaho on Thursday to watch some of the scrimmage on Friday and bring him home. Can't wait to see him. He's had fun calling us with the cell phone. What a crack-up!

Dave is slowly feeling a bit better. He got up and walked a little today. He went to the baseball game, sat in the van because of thunder, rain and lightening, but enjoyed getting out for a bit. His pain is a lot better, but he is still exhausted...and having some nausea, too. He says eating is just a chore. Thanks for all of you who are lifting him up in prayer. It's been a really, really hard few weeks. I'm hoping that getting up a little more and exercising will help him regain some strength and energy.

Keep signing that guestbook, please. Dave loves to read the entries before he falls asleep, and he prays for each person who writes in.

Love you all, Shelley

Sunday, June 19, 2005 8:46 PM CDT
FATHERS...

When the good Lord was creating Fathers
he started with a tall frame,
and a female angel nearby said,
"What kind of Father is that?

If you're going to make children so close to the ground,
why have you put Fathers up so high?

He won't be able to shoot a marble without kneeling,
tuck a child in bed without bending,
or even kiss a child without a lot of stooping."

And God smiled and said,
"Yes, but if I make him child-size,
who would children have to look up to?"

And when God made a Father's hands,
they were large and sinewy.

And the angel shook her head sadly and said,
"Do you know what you are doing?
Large hands are clumsy.

They can't manage diaper pins, small buttons,
rubber bands on pony tails or even remove splinters
caused by baseball bats."

And God smiled and said,
"I know, but they're large enough to hold everything
a small boy empties from his pockets at the end of a day..
yet small enough to cup a child's face in his hands."

And then God molded long, slim legs and broad shoulders.

And the angel nearly had a heart attack.
"Boy this is the end of the week, all right," she clucked.
"Do you realize you just made a Father without a lap?
How is he going to pull a child close to him
without the kid falling between his legs?"

And God smiled and said,
"A Mother needs a lap.
A Father needs strong shoulders to pull a sled,
balance a child on a bicycle,
or hold a sleepy head on the way home from the circus."

God was in the middle of creating two of the largest feet
anyone had ever seen when the angel could contain herself no longer.

"That's not fair. Do you honestly think those large boats
are going to dig out of bed early in the morning when the baby cries?
Or walk through a small birthday party
without crunching at least three of the guests?"

And God smiled and said,
"They'll work. You'll see.

They'll support a small child who wants to
ride a horse to Banbury Cross,
or scare off mice at the summer cabin,
or display shoes that will be a challenge to fill."

God worked throughout the night,
giving the Father few words,
but a firm, authoritative voice;
eyes that saw everything,
but remained calm and tolerant.

Finally, almost as an after-thought, he added ~ tears.
Then he turned to the angel and said,
"Now are you satisfied that he can love as much as a Mother?"

The angel shuteth up..

Author Unknown

Wednesday, June 15, 2005 4:29 PM CDT
Chemo Day.

Thanks for the brownies, Alex. What a gem you are. It's always so good to see your smile, you brighten my day. I'll take you over Martha any day!

Dave's blood counts are still marginal. High enough so that he could get the full dose today, not low enough to get any more procrit, but still low overall. His O2 sats are 99, which is great, but he's still very, very, very tired. He mostly sleeps all day.

I talked to the doctor and it looks like the levaquin is taking care of the staph infection. I also asked him about the risk of cerebral hemmorage with CPT-11 and the oral blood thinner, coumadin. He agreed with Dr. Stark-Vance that the lovenox is safer and more effective, especially for brain tumor patients. He said most people don't want to do the home injections and it's more expensive. We said that we'd do whatever is safer and more effective for Dave, so they called Premera. (Have I mentioned you need to hug your local Premera/Blue Cross people?) and they agreed to pay for it. So we'll be going back to daily shots in the belly. Now that he's more stable, the shots will only have to be once a day.

Thank you all for your faithful support. The kids at youth group made Dave a plaque of praying hands and presented it to him at church on Sunday. I'm continually awed by the love and care shown to Dave and our family. Please continue to pray for Dave, especially for his energy level. He's not able to really enjoy anything right now, and that's a tough place to be.

A friend is getting some test results today, so please join us in praying for this wonderful person and for wisdom and discernment of the medical team.

Love, Shelley

Sunday, June 12, 2005 10:42 PM CDT
Listening to the Newsboys, knowing our God is unknowable. Jesus is the final answer, even when we don't know the questions.

Newsboys - Who?

How you gonna reckon with a God like this?
When you gonna face what you can't dismiss?
Whatcha gonna say to the... soul kiss that is my God?
Fearsome like the sag in a fat man's chair?
Sweeter than a patch of Rogaine hair?
How do you define what you can't compare?
This is... My God

And there's no use explaining what can't be contained

(chorus:)
I'm not following a God I can lead around
I can't tame this deity
That's why Jesus is the final answer
To Who I want my God to be!
He's Who (I want my God to be...)

How you gonna reckon with a God this great?
Why you gonna measure what you can't equate?

Whatcha gonna say to the... Checkmate that is my God?
Stronger than the burn of an aftershave?
Tender as a burger in the microwave,
rarer than the air in an empty grave?
This is... My God

And there's no use explaining what can't be contained

(chorus)

How we gonna work this out?
To fabricate a God like this?
No doubt
We'd end up worshipping a Christ of our own design
But Jesus doesn't fit that profile
His ways aren't mine

I'm not following a God that's imagined!
Can't invent this deity
That's why Jesus is the final answer
To Who I want my God to be
He's Who I want my God to be!

Sunday, June 12, 2005 1:38 AM CDT
Special Olympics track meet in Milton-Freewater today. Kenny won gold--THREE times! He won in the 100, the 200 and the relay. It was very exciting. He was so proud. And so were we.

Zach had a great baseball outing. Looked good pitching, catching and at the plate. Team is still struggling, but improving. Fun kids, too.

Not much else to tell. Going to bed. Love, Shelley

Saturday, June 11, 2005 1:32 AM CDT
Artist: Hawk Nelson
Album: Letters To The President
Song: Take Me

Can you hear me? Does anyone around me
Feel the way that I feel now?
'Cause from the window where I sometimes cry
I just want to see Your face tonight
And I�m willing to lose everything I am

'Cause I need you more than ever
I need Your help to find where I�ve been going wrong so far

Take me under Your wing tonight
Make me so perfect in Your eyes
Hold on 'cause it will be all right
You�re not alone anymore

When You�re near me, I feel like I just found me
In the traces of the boy from yesterday
But in a world that is so black and white
I will take the steps to change my life
And I won�t be coming back to here again

I need Your loving hand to guide me
Through the maze of all the things inside me
Then I�ll know that I�m alright

'Cause I need You more than ever
I need Your help to find where I�ll be going wrong so far

Take me under Your wing tonight
Make me so perfect in Your eyes
Hold on 'cause it will be all right
You�re not alone anymore
Please help me get from worse to better
Before these tears soak through this lonely sweater
And let me know that I�m all right
I still have one strike of this match left
And I�m holding on to my last breath
And its getting a little dark around to see here

Take me under Your wing tonight
Make me so perfect in Your eyes
Hold on 'cause it will be all right
You�re not alone

Take me under Your wing tonight
Make me so perfect in Your eyes
Hold on it will be all right
You�re not alone

And You�ll be here forever, forever You�ll stay
And You promised to love me, You�ll love me always
You�ll love me for always, You�ll love me for always
Always

Thursday, June 9, 2005 3:00 PM CDT
Whew, we are home.

Dave has an angry abcess on his arm from the staph infection, but the blood cultures came back and the infection is sensitive to levequin, an oral antibiotic, so they let Dave go!

We made it to Kenny's 8th grade recognition night and we also got to go see Kate get a math award/medal this morning.

Yesterday we spent all day at the cancer center getting chemo.

Today, we rest. Breathing is still difficult and painful, and Dave is tired. The blood thinners will prevent new clots from forming, and the existing clots will be re-absorbed by his body in time. We're watching carefully for signs of bleeding. His coumadin is at a therapeutic level, so we don't have to give the lovenox shots any more, although I did hear from one doc that said the lovenox would be safer than the coumadin. I'll check that out with our doc and see what he says.

Thank you for your prayers. Too exhausted to write more. Shell

Monday, June 6, 2005 3:25 PM CDT
Hello folks, Today I turned "mad" into "action." I met today with the director of nursing and with the director of radiology.

As for using the port for CT scans, they said that their protocol is to try an arm IV first, and only use the port if that fails. (The tech was not accurate in what he told me.) It is true that the port can handle the contrast for the CT, but they said that the contrast medium is very viscous (thick and syrupy) and that they do have to put a higher volume in at a faster rate for a CT than they do for an MRI. This is why ports are not preferred, because there is a chance the contrast can "blow" the port and make it useless. So they try an arm IV first. They do have a procedure to call an RN to use the port if the IV stick fails. The whole point of the protocol is to protect the port if possible. This makes some sense to me, and it is reassuring to know that they will use the port if they have trouble with the IV.

So that led to my next question, which was: ok, now we have two sites accessed on a compromised patient with low blood counts. Twice the opportunity for infection. Why would they not remove one of them? The nursing director said that this was a mistake on the part of the nursing staff, that they should have left the arm IV in only long enough to make sure that they didn't have to repeat the CT scan and then should have taken it out. She will also address the issue at Urgent Care (an RN who refused to access his port and stuck him three times for a blood draw and then ended up calling an ER nurse to access his port anyway. I mean, there is the misery factor to consider in all this...hasn't the poor guy been through enough???) (The Urgent Care doc, btw was terrific!)

I also brought up the lack of proper procedure and hygiene that I had observed in some nurses. (Again, most of them are absolute gems, on the whole Dave is receiving excellent care, and the majority of nurses are top-notch and very caring.) I explained exactly what I had observed and told her that I had asked them to wash their hands, be more thorough in their sanitizing of the port cap, to wash their hands and re-glove after examining the weeping abcess on his arm before administering IV meds...the list goes on.

Bottom line, she is going to be retraining all nurses re: hygiene/procedure, in general and also specifically as it relates to ports, and will be reviewing with the nurses that refused to take out his arm IV what they should have done. They will also be doing a training in the proper use and care of ports, the director of radiology said he would also review with his staff the protocols and reasons for them, and when to call an RN to access a port.

Joycey brought to my attention that all staff that have been in contact with Dave should be tested to see if they have an active staph infection or if they are a carrier. I got that suggestion after the meetings, but I will definitely request that action be taken. Good idea, Joycey.

Dave has turned the corner. He is definitely feeling better today, and is so much more himself! It's very encouraging. Looks like we finally got the right antibiotic on board. The doc will be keeping him a while, he wants to make certain the infection is resolved before sending him home, and we still have a way to go on thinning the blood, his clotting times are still pretty fast. They're being extremely careful with the coumadin, because the avastin causes a risk of hemmorage, so they want to walk that particular tightrope very carefully.

I think that's all for now. Shelley

Sunday, June 5, 2005 3:15 PM CDT
Well folks, the infection in Dave's IV site turns out to be a strain of staph that has proven to be resistant to the first two antibiotics they tried. We're on a new combo of two powerful antibiotics. They're afraid that it will infect his port and that they'll have to remove the port. This is scary, because he's on blood thinners, and surgery while on blood thinners is always risky. And the worst is, the IV site was completely unnecessary since Dave had the port, and it was already accessed. The CT tech told me the port couldn't handle the rate of infusion of the contrast for the CT. I told him that they use the port for the contrast for the MRI's, and he said, "Oh, but this is much faster." Turns out to be a bold-faced lie. I should have known...I mean the vein the port goes into is much larger than the veins they use for IV's. I'm so mad. And some of the nurses in the hospital are not being careful about hygiene when they access his port. I complained, and am watching them carefully. The doc is setting Dave up on IV fluids through his port so that will hopefully reduce the risks. I'm so mad. The hospital administrator will hear from me tomorrow. Dave missed Kate's dance recital, and now will likely miss Kenny's 8th grade graduation, since they don't think he'll be able to go home until Wednesday. Please pray they get the infection under control.

Sunday, June 5, 2005 0:41 AM CDT
Saturday night, still in the hospital. Hopefully, the antibiotics are working.

Kate had a dance recital tonight. She danced beautifully. I was in awe of my little girl, so poised and grown up, so graceful. I only wish Dave could have been there. We did tape the dress rehearsal so that he could watch it, but it's not the same as having him there. Kate was really sad after the recital. We went to see Dad at the hospital, but she really misses him.

Thanks for keeping the prayers coming.

We're so grateful about Dave's tumor shrinking so dramatically. Dr. Sacks said that the radiologist used the word "miraculous" in his report.

As soon as we get settled in back home, I want to set a date for a repeat 24-hour prayer vigil. One of praise and thanks. How wonderful would it be to have that same stream of prayer, rising to heaven, thanking God for all His blessings.

I'll let ya know! Love, Shell

Friday, June 3, 2005 8:46 PM CDT
Now Dave has an infection in his iv site, the one on his arm, not his port. It's swollen, red, and has red streaks. They're starting him on antibiotics. Pray they work quickly. His arm hurts a LOT!

In His grip,
Shell

Friday, June 3, 2005 11:09 AM CDT
Kenny is off to Tacoma to compete in the State Special Olympics track meet. It's kind of scary for Mom, since he's going on his own this year, without Dave with him! He's growing up!

Dave's blood is still not at a therapeutic level, so they're going to keep him another day. He walked stairs yesterday and did great, so that was wonderful. He's pulling out of the morphine haze now, and is much more alert.

Dr. Sacks says perhaps tomorrow he can go home.

Thank you for your continued prayers.

Love, Shell

PS. Another song for you. God is always here. We know right where to find Him.

Artist: Matthew West
Song Title: You Know Where to Find Me

I saw your sky fall down today
Suddenly turned from blue to gray
Till one by one the raindrops
Turned to tears upon your face
Wish there was something I could do
Wish I could ease the pain for you
But I�ve never felt so helpless
It�s like you�re drowning right in front of me
And I�m reaching out but you can�t see
There�s something holding on to you so tight
So I guess this is all I say to you tonight
If you ever need me
You know where to find me
I will be waiting where I�ve always been
If you ever need me
You know where to find me
I have never left you; I�m where I�ve always been
Right by your side
Right by your side
If the whole wide world is on your back
If the strength you need is the strength you lack
If you�re in a crowd but all alone
If you can�t stay here but you can�t go home
If you can�t answer all the whys
�Cause you�re too tired to reach that high
I want you to remember
If you ever need me
You know where to find me
I will be waiting where I�ve always been
If you ever need me
You know where to find me
I have never left you; I�m where I�ve always been
Right by your side
Right by your side
If the whole wide world is on your back
If the strength you need is the strength you lack
If you�re in a crowd but all alone
If you can�t stay here but you can�t go home
If you can�t answer all the whys
�Cause you�re too tired to reach that high
I want you to, I need you to remember
If you ever need me
You know where to find me
I will be waiting where I�ve always been
If you ever need me
You know where to find me
I have never left you
I�m where I�ve always been
Right by your side

Thursday, June 2, 2005 6:20 PM CDT
IT SHRUNK!
IT SHRUNK!
IT SHRUNK!
IT SHRUNK!
IT SHRUNK!
IT SHRUNK!
IT SHRUNK!
IT SHRUNK!
IT SHRUNK!
IT SHRUNK!
IT SHRUNK!

Did you hear me?????????????

IT SHRUNK!!!!!!!!

Dr. Sacks showed me the scans today. Dave's tumor was big in April. It was growing across the corpus callosum and there was a streak and a satellite lesion on the left side, as well as growth of his tumor on the right side. Today's scan shows very little tumor left. There's a rim, but it's truly amazing. Truly astonishing.

We started the CPT-11/Avastin combo the end of April. His symptoms got better right away. Now we know why.

Answered prayer number two million and seven!

And not only that, but Dave continues to improve, and is ready to come home tomorrow. We'll continue with the CPT-11/Avastin. Dr. Sacks said, "We just have to watch it really carefully so we don't kill him with the side effects!"

God is so good. We gratefully, humbly, tearfully accept, cherish and celebrate the miracle he's granted us. Thank you for your prayers, those prayers are the building blocks of Dave's healing, built on the rock of our Savior.

Love, Shelley

Thursday, June 2, 2005 12:15 AM CDT
Thursday morning.
Thank you for all your prayers. As always, God is true to His promises.

Dave was able to complete the MRI yesterday. We saw Dr. Sacks this morning, and he said there is some swelling, but the computer wouldn't let him call up an old scan to compare it to, so he's not sure if the picture is the same, better or worse as in April. I'll go to his office this afternoon and should know more then. And we'll find out more about chemo then, too. Didn't do the chemo yesterday.

Dave had a strange incident yesterday where he woke up, coughed and then couldn't breathe at all...couldn't move any air at all. He was panicked and it went on for what seemed like forever. Finally, it cleared and he could breathe again. Once he could breathe again, he started having chest pain, and the pain in his back was gone. This scared us quite a bit, as we feared the clot had broken loose and moved closer to his heart. The doctor said no, with the blood thinner on board, things will be okay. So it was just weird. We did find out that the ultrasound showed he does have more blood clots in his legs.

His blood pressure continues to be low, his heart rate is staying pretty close to normal. His oxygen saturation went down in the night, so they have him on oxygen now.

But the good news is, after that odd incident, his pain is much better. They loaded him up with morphine before the MRI at noon yesterday, and he hasn't had any morphine since. The pain is much better. Praise the Lord. Answered prayer number two million and six!

Dave's legs are quite weak. He's exhausted and shaky, but more alert today. Feeling much, much better.

They say he'll get to go home tomorrow. I'll get to learn to give him lovenox shots twice a day. I need Nurse Neese to live closer!

Gotta get a shower. Thanks for the prayers, the thoughts, the visits, the flowers, the food, the chocolate. There are too many people to try and list them all. Please know how grateful we are.

Love you all. Shelley

Wednesday, June 1, 2005 1:07 AM CDT
Thanks for all the prayers.

Dave is still experiencing a lot of pain. Breathing really hurts him right now and they are giving him the maximum dose of morphine. So he's either sleeping or making the Chewbacca noises. He says he's going to star as a wookie in Star Wars Episode VII because of the sound he makes to get through the pain.

The medication he is on is lovenox. It's injected into his abdomen twice a day. Yee haw. Now I get to learn to give shots. He'll be on it for a while. They also added coumadin. Both are blood thinners to prevent new clots from forming. Dave's had a low heart rate and low blood pressure for several weeks now, so that's contributing to the clots. We don't know whether the clots were a result of the tamoxifen or of the port placement. They did an ultrasound of his legs to see if there are more clots in his legs (deep vein thrombosis or DVT), as they believe the clots in his lungs travelled there from his legs. We don't have results of that yet.

They attempted to do an MRI today, but were unable to finish it as Dave was in too much pain, and having trouble breathing in that confined space.

He's agitated and confused when he's awake due to the morphine, so it's been a rough couple of days. They'll try to finish the MRI tomorrow. He'll have his chemo as usual tomorrow. Neither of the agents he's on now are generally considered to contribute to blood clots.

Gotta get some sleep. Thanks for praying.
Love, Shell

Monday, May 30, 2005 8:55 PM CDT
Please pray all.

Dave woke this morning with a sharp pain in his back and difficulty breathing. We took him to urgent care. Now, 10 hours later, after a huge ordeal, he's been diagnosed with pulmonary emboli....blood clots in his lungs. He's been admitted to the hospital and they are giving him a med (not heparin or coumadin...starts with an L...) to prevent more clots. They also gave him morphine for the pain.

It's very scary. Please pray. Thanks to Deb for feeding my kids, and thanks to my mom for coming out on a moment's notice to help out (she'll be here in a few hours). Thank goodness someone answered their phone today! Doesn't pay to fall ill on a holiday, I guess.

Standing on the promises, Shelley

Thursday, May 26, 2005 10:58 AM CDT
Life rolls along....Dave had chemo yesterday. You're right, Laurie, the port made life sooo much easier. Dave continues to handle the side effects of the chemo pretty well. He has some digestive upset, but not too much. He's pretty tired, but still going to work. We're grateful that he's feeling pretty good. His blood counts are low, though. Last week they gave him only 80f the CPT-11. This week was avastin, so he could have a full dose. (Avastin is a monoclonal antibody treatment, not a chemo.) Please pray that his blood counts will come up so he can have the full dose of CPT-11 next week. Both white and red cells are low. Platelets are okay.

Anybody want a kitten? They are very sweet, very cute, and very in need of new homes now! Only two left! Get yours now! Special offer only available on this channel! If you call now, we'll include this kitty litter free! That's right, FREE! Ha! You laugh....I'M SERIOUS!

Love you all!
Shelley

Friday, May 20, 2005 5:06 PM CDT
Well, the port is in. This should make life a little easier for Dave. He's resting now. He'll be pretty sore until the incision heals up, but after that, it should be smooth sailing.

I sure hate hospitals. Denise, it was really weird to be in a waiting room without you.

It'd gonna be a long baseball season, me thinks. Zach is playing really well, and his hitting slump is a thing of the past, he's been hitting the ball every at bat, so that's a good thing.

Kate's dance recital is coming up on June 4. Kenny has the state Special Olympics track meet that weekend, too. Life's gonna get real complicated here pretty quick.

GET DOWN by Audio Adrenaline

Lavishly our lives are wasted
Humbleness is left untasted
You can't live your life to please yourself, yeah
That's a tip from my mistakes
Exactly what it doesn't take
To win you've got to come in last place
To live your life you've got to lose it
And all the losers get a crown

I get down and He lifts me up
I get down and He lifts me up
I get down and He lifts me up
I get down

All I need's another day
Where I can't seem to get away
From the many things that drag me down, yeah
I'm sure you've had a day like me
Where nothing seems to set you free
From the burdens you can't carry all alone
In your weakness He is stronger
In Your darkness He shines through
When you're crying He's your comfort
When you're all alone, He's carrying you

This valley is so deep
I can barely see the sun
I cry out for mercy, Lord
You lift me up again

He lifts us up, over and over again. And today we can see the sun. We get to sit at a baseball game, eat sunflower seeds, track balls and strikes and cheer. It just doesn't get much better than that.

Love to you all, Shelley

Monday, May 16, 2005 2:13 PM CDT
We're meeting with the surgeon, Dr. Capel, today to talk about placing a port. Dave's white counts have been okay, but on the low side, so please pray that the surgery goes well, and that he gets no infection from the placement of the port.

Meanwhile, back at the ranch, all is well. Dave is feeling okay for the most part. We went to the balloon stampede this weekend and had a great time. The night glow is really spectacular. We never did make it up early enough to see the balloons lift off, too tired.

Today, we celebrate BOB MEYER! It's his birthday. What a wonderful day! We're so grateful to have his support, love, witness and guidance in our lives. We're so thankful for his example.

"I talk and talk and talk, and I haven't taught people in 50 years what my father taught by example in one week." Mario Cuomo

"Children have more need of models than critics." Joseph Joubert

Thursday, May 12, 2005 5:50 PM CDT
Updates are sparse, I know. That's good news. Not too much happening. The pic above is Kenny at the regional Special Olympics track meet. He got 2 gold medals, a silver medal and a 5th place ribbon. He's now qualified to go to the state meet at Fort Lewis in June. WAY TO GO, KENNY!

Dave got his third infusion Wednesday. He is certainly holding his own. The double vision has cleared, his balance is pretty good and his energy is okay. No nausea or vomiting, and only one bout of intestinal upset.

He'll have an MRI in June to see if the tumor is finally shrinking.

Monday we see the surgeon about placing a port. The veins are getting very, very difficult to find, and this weekly infusion is taking a toll.

The kittens are growing like crazy and are all over the house. It's been a lot of fun. Well, mostly fun. I'm soooo glad they can use a litter box now!

Thanks to Alex for the brownies and the laughs. Thanks to Missy Peterson for the music and the prayers. Thanks to Deb for always being there and both Debs for taking my kids. Thanks to Mom & Dad Meyer for all their help. Thanks to Bob for eating lunch at your desk. Thanks to all our church family for the meals and the prayers and your continual uplifting of our family. Thanks to Melinda for being the most understanding boss in the world. Thanks to Jillian for being the greatest sub in the world. Thanks to Bev for her love and her constant support. Thanks to Mark for coming to see us. And to all of you who walk this journey with us....who are there during the crazy rollercoaster times, and the peaceful times, and the dark times, too....thank you for your love.

"I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me." Matthew 25:45

Thursday, May 5, 2005 11:56 PM CDT
Please pray for little Caleb. He was dehydrated last night and needed an IV. We're hoping he's a lot better today.

We're going to Spokane tomorrow to watch Kenny in his regional track meet. Should be fun. Z is staying with the Wrights and Kate is staying with the Priors. So Dave and I will get some time alone! WOW!

We have been bottle-feeding a litter of orphaned kittens for the past week. What an adventure! They are adorable. And best of all, we have someone who will take them all if we can't find other homes for them. The kids are enjoying the kittens a lot. I took some pictures and will try to get them up for you to see soon.

Dave is feeling very tired and is having quite a bit of intestinal upset with the last round of chemo. No fun. Had to stay close to the restroom today, so didn't go to work.

Thanks again, Alex, for bringing a little fun into that dreary chemo room. Not to mention chocolate!

Thursday, April 28, 2005 2:50 PM CDT
http://pg.photos.yahoo.com/ph/shibelle007/my_photos

The above link will take you to my photos at yahoo. 192 new pictures to look at!

The albums:

Choir Trip Pioneer: Kenny's 8th grade choir trip
Amy's Birthday/Puppies: Amy Ullmann's 9th birthday, pictures in Kelso, pictures of Sophie's puppies, and a few baseball pictures.
Spud's Birthday: We celebrated at MomJudy & DadBob's house. Pictures of Spud, Caleb, Annalee, and of course, the ultimately photogenic combo of Missy and Zach.
Music: Missy Peterson, Shane & Tracy Longmire, Jeffrey Townsend, & Skip Pritchard in their healing ministry.

I hope you have fun seeing them.

For chemo updates, see journal history. Dave is at work today! YAHOO!

Wednesday, April 27, 2005 11:11 PM CDT
Okay.
Answered prayer #3: No side effects. Dave is feeling good. A bit tired, but pretty good.

No, right now he's feeling fabulous. His face is lit like a Christmas tree. I haven't seen him glow like this in quite a while.

It's music. Music and good friends. Missy Peterson had the idea...let's get together and sing. So she came, brought Shane & Tracy Longmire, Jeffery Townsend, & Skip Pritchard. It was wonderful. Healing. Powerful.

Dave is aglow. Thank you friends. As Skip prayed, "We know that whenever two or more are gathered, You are there." How blessed we are.

How blessed we are.

For update on chemo, see journal history.

Wednesday, April 27, 2005 11:11 PM CDT
Okay.
Answered prayer #3: No side effects. Dave is feeling good. A bit tired, but pretty good.

No, right now he's feeling fabulous. His face is lit like a Christmas tree. I haven't seen him glow like this in quite a while.

It's music. Music and good friends. Missy Peterson had the idea...let's get together and sing. So she came, brought Shane & Tracy Longmire, Jeffery Townsend, & Skip Pritchard. It was wonderful. Healing. Powerful.

Dave is aglow. Thank you friends. As Skip prayed, "We know that whenever two or more are gathered, You are there." How blessed we are.

How blessed we are.

Wednesday, April 27, 2005 4:20 PM CDT
2 pm (see journal history for previous entries today)

CPT-11 is in. Dave's feeling fine, a little wobbly, heart rate still low, but overall okay.

Alex came to see us. She always makes me laugh. Good thing she has such an understanding boss!

Now we rest. And pray. And hope. And love. And believe.

Thanks for being with us!

PS. Terri...how's this for COUGAR???

Wednesday, April 27, 2005 1:11 PM CDT
Anti-nausea meds in, avastin in, cpt-11 soon to come. Dave's doing well. His heart rate is only 40, tho, so they're watching that. Doc thinks it's withdrawal from the thalidomide. Dave's dad came by to sit with Dave while I run home to get the music. Need to listen to Matthew West "Happy" while at the Cancer Center!

Answered prayer #1 (well, #1001 really, but for today..) The insurance will pay!!! Hooray...and if you know anyone who works for Premera Blue Cross, hug them!

Answered prayer #2: The nurse, Katie, was able to easily find a vein. We'll be doing a port soon.

Thanks for everything, ya'll. KOKO!
Love, Shelley

Tuesday, April 26, 2005 6:45 PM CDT
Met with Dr. Sacks. After much research and even more prayer the CPT-11 & Avastin will begin tomorrow. It's a 4-5 hour infusion process.

Please, please pray.

Pray that this treatment will work, that it will halt the growth of the tumor, destroy the cancerous cells, and spare the healthy cells. Pray that Dave will feel good and remain strong and that his blood counts remain steady. This combo should have fairly minimal side effects. Pray that our insurance will agree to cover the $4000 per week it will cost. While you're at it, we could also use a good vein :-) !

Thank you for your diligence, your dedication, your love. We see the love of our Savior shining in your faces, working through your hands and your prayers. Our God is an amazing God. "Even when my hands are heavy, I will lift them up to You!" We lift our hands, our voices and sing His praise. His grace is sufficient, He is our haven, our hiding place. Tonight we rest, tonight we pray. Tomorrow we fight.

A Cherokee elder was teaching his grandchildren about life.

He said to them, "A fight is going on inside me...it is a terrible fight and it is between two wolves."

"One wolf represents fear, anger, envy, sorrow, regret, greed, arrogance, self-pity, guilt, resentment, inferiority, lies, false pride, superiority, and ego."

"The other stands for joy, peace, love, hope, sharing, serenity, humility, kindness, benevolence, friendship, empathy, generosity, truth, compassion, and faith."

"This same fight is going on inside you, and inside every other person, too."

The children thought about it for a minute, and then one child asked "Which
wolf will win, grandfather?"

The old Cherokee simply replied.... "The one you feed."

Tuesday, April 26, 2005 1:57 PM CDT
Artist: Seven Places
Album: Hear Us Say Jesus
Song: Even When

This week, I prayed, one time
My phone, it rang, I put You on the other line
And now my thoughts they drift around
My knees remain unacquainted with the ground
Unless my faith is put to the test and I am forced to bow
Although I'm in this flesh it doesn't mean You shouldn't have the best
from me, from me

[Chorus:]
Even when my eyes are dry
even when my soul is tired
even when my hands are heavy, I will lift them up to You
It's not about how I feel, oh Lord I am here for You
I exist for you

I close my eyes but all I see
Is a background of black, bouncy squiggly lines
And this week's mistakes coming back to mind but
I will lift my voice and make a joyful sound
Forget about me, I only get me down
Although I cannot see it doesn't mean I shouldn't sing to You, to You

[Chorus]

You've given me Your life and have held mine together yet I find
Excuses to slouch in my pew
But when glory divine
Is sitting in my very presence, the least that I can do
Is give my all to You, give my all to You

[Chorus]

Saturday, April 23, 2005 4:14 PM CDT
Babe Ruth Try Outs Today!

Zach was great. It was so fun to see. He listened to his mother and swung his new bat LEFT-HANDED again! Worked like a charm. He hit well, and smashed it a few times. Fielding looked great as well. Very fun for Dave to be there.

Kenny had track this morning. Working on the long jump. Got into the car and said, "Whew, I'm outta shape." Funny kid! We were tired, he was in a choir competition in Pasco yesterday, and it was a long night. But the choir did very well and sounded beautiful.

Heard from Duke this morning. Early. Talked to Dr. Friedman early today. He was in early on a Saturday, he's obviously very dedicated and I know he sees half of the brain tumor cases in the country cross his desk. But, man, it was a disappointing phone call. I had talked to Dr F. in Feb after Dave's gamma knife. Said, "We can't help until he shows progression." Saw Dr. Prados, he got Dave on tamoxifen/thalidomide.....good news for a while, then double vision and bad MRI. Sent all the records to Duke. Dr. F. called 2 weeks ago and said, send the scans, the slides, etc. We did again, and waited, waited. Got the call at 6 am today. He said, "Well, how's he been doing since January?" I'm not too awake, so I didn't say, "Well, I told you all that 2 weeks ago..." I just went thru it again. Then he said that he didn't have any clinical trials Dave was eligible for, that it was too soon to say on the CPT-11/Avastin, and that he couldn't offer us anything different or more than Dr. Prados, maybe he'd recommend hydroxyurea/gleevec. End of conversation. Turns out Dave's tumor tested to be non-responsive to gleevec. (Thank you, Dr. Sacks for running that test.) So I guess we're back at square one. Maybe square negative one, because the tumor has continued to wreak its havoc in those waiting weeks, and the double vision is daily now, even with upping the dex. And some days the walking is not so steady. AAAAAAAHHHHHHH!

Dr. Prados mentioned several options: VP-16, Iressa, Tarceva, beta interferon, rapamycin.
The $64,000 question:
HOW DO WE DECIDE WHICH ONE AND IN WHICH COMBINATION???
CPT-11/Avastin is another option, as is PCV. And I talked to Dr. Merchant about a mushroom that has been in use in Japan with good results. Dr. Merchant is beginning research in the US. We may be able to add this to any other combo we use. I don't know what to do, and we've already waited too long.

Right now we're leaning toward the CPT-11/Avastin combo. It's new in use, but has shown some amazing results. 21 patients, 10 months...only one showed tumor growth, 8 had stable disease, the rest had improvement. It is not labeled for use for brain tumors, and will likely cost us abour $4000 per weekly treatment. Next step is to find out if insurance will cover it.

We are on our knees daily, praying for guidance and discernment. Got a call in to Dr. Prados to see what he thinks about CPT-11/Avastin.

KOKO. On a sad note, a few prayer requests. Kate's classroom teacher and PE teacher are married and their child was stillborn yesterday. We are broken-hearted for this little family. Please pray for comfort in their loss.

Also, Mark Daltoso, who was diagnosed with a brain tumor 5 years ago and waged a mighty battle against his tumor, has laid down his sword. He died on April 18, 2005. He was a much beloved husband and father to 4 children. His mother has been by his side throughout the journey, and has been a source of invaluable support to us, as well. Please pray for Mark's family, especially my dear friend, his mother, Marguerite.

Many mother's hearts are hurting.

Wednesday, April 20, 2005 11:48 AM CDT
When I hear this song, I think of Dave. And when I hear that question, "are you who you want to be?" I know that Dave can say YES!

This Is Your Life by Switchfoot

Yesterday is a wrinkle on your forehead
Yesterday is a promise that you've broken
Don't close your eyes, don't close your eyes
This is your life and today is all you've got now
Yeah, and today is all you'll ever have
Don't close your eyes
Don't close your eyes

This is your life, are you who you want to be
This is your life, are you who you want to be
This is your life, is it everything you dreamed that it would be
When the world was younger and you had everything to lose

Yesterday is a kid in the corner
Yesterday is dead and over

This is your life, are you who you want to be
Yhis is your life, are you who you want to be
This is your life, is it everything you dreamed that it would be
When the world was younger and you had everything to lose

Don't close your eyes
Don't close your eyes
Don't close your eyes
Don't close your eyes

This is your life are you who you want to be
This is your life are you who you want to be

This is your life, are you who you want to be
This is your life, are you who you want to be
This is your life, is it everything you dreamed it would be
When the world was younger and you had everything to lose

And you had everything to lose

Tuesday, April 12, 2005 7:28 PM CDT
New Disney pictures on the yahoo site. Go visit the address above, and click on the DISNEY HAROLDSON-STYLE album. Way cool pics, thanks Evy & Erik. Trying to find a way to upload the DVD that Mindy made. It has pics, video and music....wonderful.

Tuesday, April 12, 2005 7:28 PM CDT
New Disney pictures on the yahoo site. Go visit the address above, and click on the DISNEY HAROLDSON-STYLE album. Way cool pics, thanks Evy & Erik. Trying to find a way to upload the DVD that Mindy made. It has pics, video and music....wonderful.

Thursday, April 7, 2005 2:04 PM CDT
We met with Dr. Sacks today and looked at the scans. The news is not good. The tumor is growing, and pretty significantly. It has crossed the corpus callosum and there are new tumor sites now in the right hemisphere.

This precludes doing any more surgery. The will not do surgery if both hemispheres are involved.

No more gamma knife, either.

We have tried almost all chemos that have any kind of track record at all. This leaves experimental treatments/clinical trials.

Scans went out to Duke today.

Please pray, we are running out of options.

It's miracle time.

Thursday, March 31, 2005 5:45 PM CST
Hello all, still experiencing computer woes. Borrowing a friend's computer for a quick update.

The good news. Dave has been feeling great since last update. Finally got bored being a house-husband/daddy and went back to work in the afternoons. Seems to be going well, and he's so glad to be back with "his" kids. The administration has been very supportive of Dave, and we're grateful he has such wonderful people to work with/for.

The not-so-good news. Yesterday Dave was fine in the morning, but by noon had double vision. This could be for one of three reasons. 1. Tumor growth. (bad, we don't want this one) 2. Swelling due to the gamma knife. (best option, can usually be controlled with decadron, but can cause lots of problems and may get worse.) 3. Radiation necrosis (not as bad as tumor growth, it means the gamma knife is killing the cells, but the dead/dying tissue is causing problems. If it doesn't get too big/bad, his body will eventually get rid of the dead tissue, but it takes a long time, and the necrosis can cause the same problems as the tumor and sometimes requires surgery to remove. This option is better than tumor growth, but less than ideal.)

So.....I came to school to bring Dave the decadron (he's been off it completely for 2 weeks), and there were three police cars in the parking lot, and three policemen in his room. Talk about adrenaline rush...I was SCARED. Turns out it was an awareness campaign about the dangers of drunk driving. Whew.

Dave took the decadron and within an hour, his double vision had cleared up. This is a fairly positive sign, far from a guarantee, but good.

We called the doc, and they brought Dave right in that afternoon for labs and an MRI. He wasn't scheduled for an MRI until end of April. Now we're waiting on results.

Man, I really HATE waiting. I'm no good at it, and I've had a LOT of practice and it's not getting any easier. Hmmph.

Love you all. KOKO and KP (Keep Praying!)

Monday, March 21, 2005 10:38 PM CST
Will be offline for a while, computer problems. If you'd like to check out more Disney photos, you can go to: http://pg.photos.yahoo.com/ph/shibelle007/my_photos and click on the album called Disney 2.

Dave will start thalidomide soon. He had to fill out a million papers and forms (and we all know how he LOVES that!)

Hope to be online soon with photos of Zach's b-ball tourney and baseball games. Kate will be in the talent show tomorrow and we'll hope for pics of that, too.

Love to all, Shelley

Wednesday, March 9, 2005 10:56 PM CST
Back from Disneyland! What a wonderful, wonderful time. Peter, Cheryl, Austen, Peyton & Ethan, we can't thank you enough for everything. What an amazing gift!

Denise, Darren, Jake, Amy, Luke
Bob, Mindy, Annalee, Caleb
Erik, Evy, Canute, Sonja

Thanks for joining us and making it such a special time!

I'll post more, including pics soon. Suffice it to say, it was the BEST!

San Francisco was also great. Dr. Prados is amazing. He first read the MRI for us, and although it was difficult to do because we had to keep switching back and forth between cd's to see both images and couldn't do a side-by-side comparison, he says that Dave's tumor looks better, it looks like it's beginning to shrink. He said that there are some people who have really great response to tamoxifen, and perhaps Dave will be one of them. (WE ALSO KNOW THAT ALL OF THAT PRAYER POWER HAD MUCH TO DO WITH THAT TUMOR MAKING A RETREAT!) He suggested adding thalidomide to the tamoxifen and increasing the dose of tamoxifen. He also outlined for us some other next steps he would take in the event that the tamoxifen stops working. The only downer was that Dave is not eligible for the Poly ICLC trial because he's had too many procedures. Dr. Prados did let us know of some other trials that Dave would be eliglible for, but those are single-agent trials, so for now, and as long as we can, we'll stay with the tamoxifen and add thalidomide.

If you'd like to read more about any of the treatments I talk about, I'd recommend www.virtualtrials.com It's a great website with lots of information.

Gotta get to bed now, but wanted you to know that we're home with answered prayers in hand (or in Dave's head at any rate!)

Love you all,
Shelley

Monday, February 28, 2005 5:51 PM CST
God is good, God is so good.

Today, Dave had his MRI. The tech was able to get a vein for the contrast without any trouble...that is a blessing!

Dave got copies of the scans. I looked at them, and, as a lay-person, it's difficult for me to tell the difference between tissue swelling from the gamma knife and actual tumor growth. I have not compared the scans side-by-side, but it looks to me like the mid-line shift is about the same, and the tumor has not progressed any further across the mid-line into the left hemisphere. That is a blessing and an answered prayer.

The area near the motor strip and moving toward the brain stem looks a little larger to me. I'll have time to compare the scans side-by-side later and we'll see.

The other blessing is that Dave is still feeling good, still quite himself...if a little bit more distractable and forgetful, but all-in-all, it's good.

We probably won't be able to get an official opinion on the scan until we see Dr. Prados in SF on March 8th. Usually they send Dave's scans to Spokane to be read, and then we hear the results when he meets with the local doc a few days later, this time, no can do....we're going to DISNEYLAND!!!

Thank you for all your prayers. We hope that these prayers will empower the gamma knife radiation and that we'll see the expected results in two months!

Love, Shelley

Monday, February 28, 2005 1:25 AM CST
Our prayer vigil is half over now. It's been an incredible day. We are feeling so loved and surrounded with God's love. There are at least two people praying in each 20 minute time slot. Some slots have as many as six people and one slot has a family of 10, 2 individuals and our youth group praying.

I had the privilege of being with Kenny during his 20 minute prayer at 9:40 pm. It was a blessing to me to hear what is on his heart.

I'm due to wake up Z in 2 hours and Kate an hour after that. Thank you for all your prayers today and always. Love, Shelley

Saturday, February 19, 2005 6:42 PM CST
Thank you for your prayers. The non-tumor situation we asked for prayer about is on its way to being resolved. This is a huge relief for us.

Dave continues to feel great. Today was a good day. We watched Zach have an awesome game in his AAU tournament. Dave came home and played football with Kenny.

He has started the tamoxifen. It starts out at a low dose and works up to a very high dose. Breast cancer patients generally take 10-20 mgs per day and Dave will be working up to 160 mgs per day. He says, "Bring it on!" We haven't heard from Dr. Prados so we'll see what he says about the tamoxifen when we get there.

Dave decided to delay putting in the port until we get back from San Fransisco so he won't have to worry about it while we're there. He's not on any IV meds at the moment, so it's not too pressing.

On February 28, Dave will have his next MRI. Borrowing a fabulous idea from Lori & Erik, we'd like to have a 24 hour prayer for Dave from 11:00 am on Sunday February 27 to 11:00 am on Monday February 28. (His MRI is at 10:00 and takes about an hour.)

We're looking for 72 people to each commit to praying for Dave's healing for a 20 minute time slot. This will mean 24 hours of continuous prayer for Dave's healing!

PS. Please feel free to share this to other folks you know who might want to participate. If you are willing to pray, please e-mail me at meyer1986@charter.net I'll try very hard to accommodate time requests. Thank you for your unwavering support.

Imagine the power of all that prayer, sent up in a continuous stream, imagine the response from heaven, imagine Dave, surrounded by and filled with God's healing light, imagine him completely well. Pray for this vision of wellness we see so clearly to become reality.

COME WITH US AS WE CLAIM GOD'S PROMISES!

Philippians 4:6 "Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God."

1 Peter 5: 6-7 "Humble yourselves, therefore, under God's mighty hand, that He may lift you up in due time. Cast all your anxiety on Him because He cares for you.

2 Corinthians 12:9-10 "But He said to me, �My grace is sufficient for you, for My power is made perfect in weakness.� Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ's sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong."

Deuteronomy 31:6 "Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid or terrified because of them, for the LORD your God goes with you; He will never leave you nor forsake you."

Matthew 11:28-30 "Come to Me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take My yoke upon you and learn from Me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For My yoke is easy and My burden is light."

Proverbs 3: 5-6 "Trust in the LORD with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways acknowledge Him, and He will make your paths straight."

Isaiah 43:1-2 "I have summoned you by name. You are Mine. When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you. When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned; the flames will not set you ablaze."

Matthew 7:7, 8, "Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you. For everyone who asks receives; he who seeks finds; and to him who knocks, the door will be opened."

Psalm 18:6 "In my distress I called upon the LORD, and cried unto my God: He heard my voice out of His temple, and my cry came before Him, even into His ears"

Romans 5:1-5 "Therefore, since we have been justified through faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom we have gained access by faith into this grace in which we now stand. And we rejoice in the hope of the glory of God. Not only so, but we also rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not disappoint us, because God has poured out His love into our hearts by the Holy Spirit, whom He has given us. "

Romans 8:37-39: "No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through Him who loved us. For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord."

Romans 8:28 "And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love Him, who have been called according to His purpose."

Love you all. Shelley

Thursday, February 10, 2005 9:21 PM CST
Friends, I again petition you and covet your prayers. We are dealing with a situation (not tumor related) and need the Lord's guidance in dealing with our emotions and our response. Please pray for divine wisdom, God's intercession, and peace.

On the bt side: We heard from Dr. Friedman. He said that because of the gamma knife, that Dave would have to show tumor progression to be eligible for any clinical trials. Dave has a scan in 3 weeks. If it shows any progression, Dr. Friedman said to call him before we do anything at all. He said that any of the chemos recommended by Dr. Spence would be good to try.

Waiting on a callback from Dr. Prados re: starting tamoxifen now.

KOKO!

Thursday, February 10, 2005 12:38 AM CST
Hello all. We met with Dr. Sacks today. First line, they're going to place a port. This will make all IV things easier. They've had a tough time finding veins lately, so this will make life easier overall.

Second, Dr. Spence and Dr. Sacks recommend starting tamoxifen right away while waiting for the consult with Dr. Prados at San Fransisco. Dave's counts are good right now. Platelets are 200,000 and white cells are at 2.2 (normal is 3). They said the tamoxifen shouldn't impact his counts, and it's an oral med. I will be checking with Dr. Prados's office today to make sure it's okay.

We're set to meet with Dr. Prados and/or Dr. Chang at University of California San Fransisco on March 8. Thanks to Peter's generosity with his frequent flyer miles, we'll be taking a few days before to take the kids to Disneyland. We were going to wait until spring break, but decided that Dave may be on a new chemo, so we'd like to go while he's feeling good.

Dr. Friedman from Duke called back, but during a time my cell didn't get reception, so I called him back and am waiting for his return call.

Not much other news. Thanks for keeping those prayers coming!

Love, Shelley

Saturday, February 5, 2005 8:52 PM CST
Another good day!
Dave is feeling great, looking super and just being him. We watched Z and teammates win 4 straight bball games this morning. What a show! Utterly fabulous. Nothing better than cheering on your kids, listening to Dave call them by the nicknames he gave them. Games at 8, 9, 10, & 11. The kids were tired by the end, for sure!

Robin came by and prayed with us. A real comfort and strength.

Listening to Matthew West "Happy"

Take a look at the mountain
Stretching a mile high
Take a look at the ocean
Far as your eye can see
And think of me

Take a look at the desert
Do you feel like a grain of sand?
I am with you wherever
Where you go is where I am

And I'm always thinking of you
Take a look around you
I'm spelling it out one by one

Chorus:

I love you more than the sun
And the stars that I taught how to shine
You are mine and you shine for me too
I love you yesterday and today
And tomorrow I'll say it again and again
I love you more

Just a face in the city
Just a tear on a crowded street
But you are one in a million
And you belong to me

And I want you to know
I'm not letting go
Even when you come undone

Chorus:

I love you more than the sun
And the stars that I taught how to shine
You are mine and you shine for me too
I love you yesterday and today
And tomorrow I'll say it again and again
I love you more

Bridge:

Shine for me
Shine for me
Shine on, shine on
Shine for me

Chorus:

I love you more than the sun
And the stars that I taught how to shine
You are mine and you shine for me too
I love you yesterday and today
And tomorrow I'll say it again and again
I love you more

God loves us more. More than we can imagine. More than we can fathom. And Dave shines, shines for Him.

Yes, today is a good day.

Friday, February 4, 2005 11:54 PM CST
We're home, we're home, we're home!! Hooray!

Thanks to Denise, Mark and Peter for being there on one of the most awful days. Come to think of it, you three have been there EVERY awful day. Maybe we shouldn't let you come around anymore!! (Just kidding, of course....what would we do without you there in our time of need? Without Denise to keep me sane, Mark to hug me and Peter to pray with us, we'd be LOST! You guys are the BEST! Remember the snowball fight the day after Kyle's funeral, when the diaper service guy thought we'd lost our minds? And Denise in her yellow pants? And Mark and Steve and Erik piling with us on the hide-a-bed and bending the couch? You have been there for us time and time again. Thank you!) And Evy, Canute, Sonja and Echo (and Erik via Florida), thank you for your loving welcome and providing a place where we can just be. The Haroldsons have been there for us, too. Evy, do you remember singing "Buytl sphere, I come bouncing back to you, butyl sphere..." to Dave? He thinks it was during a pictionary game. We laughed so hard remembering that. Thanks Moms and Dads for keeping the home fires burning while we were gone.

Dave is looking and feeling GREAT!!! You'd never know he had a tumor in his head at all. We had a good trip home, laughing and searching for decent music on the radio. Heard Travis Tritt:

"It's a great day to be alive, I know
The sun's still shinin' when I close my eyes,
There's some hard times in the neighborhood,
But why can't every day be just this good?"

Today is a good day. Me and my love, driving, and singing, the wind and the sun outside. No non-existent pizza parlors to try to find. Hugs and stories from the kids when we got home. Like Dave says, "Make it a good day."

On the business side, we sent scans to Duke (NC) and San Fransisco for further opinions on the chemo. Everyone seems to have different ideas. This will be the lynchpin and the least clear decision for us. So please pray for guidance and signs that even us stupid people can read!

Jodie Lee, Dr. Rock-n-Roll, Lily, Marie, Dr. Goodkin....you guys rock! The GK staff at Harborview are like no other people on earth. We felt among family yesterday. Never once did they look at Dave like a "patient." They took time to see him and respect him for what he is...a real person, with a real life, with real people who need and love him. Thanks, guys, we'll never forget it.

Gotta get some sleep. Love, Shelley

Thursday, February 3, 2005 3:12 PM CST
Please keep praying. I hope there are lots of you praying.

Dr. Rockhill shared the MRI with us. The news is not good. In fact, it could hardly be worse. The tumor has grown a lot in the last two weeks. It is beginning to invade the corpus callosum, which is the tissue that connects the two sides of the brain, so it is encroaching on the other side. It is also growing backward, nearing the brain stem and invading the motor cortex.

The volume is much too huge to treat with gamma knife. Dr. Rockhill did create a treatment plan. He says that they can treat a larger area than they usually do, but with a smaller dose, they cannot treat it all, he is selecting the parts where he feels the tumor would do the most damage as he grows. This carries a risk of swelling, which he said has about a 50% chance of causing Dave to have to be hospitalized in about 3 weeks.

He said the other option is to treat the symptoms with steroids, and try a chemo when Dave's counts came up. The surgeon and the neuro-oncologist also consulted on the case. Basically, they left it up to Dave. They said that they could pull out this one last-ditch effort and go out swinging, but possibly compromise his quality of life, with no guarantee that we are even buying more time.

We are scared beyond belief. We all prayed together, seeking God's wisdom and peace with the decision. Dave wants to fight with all he has. He's an amazing warrior. He said, "Fight pressure with pressure."

So they're readying the machine, and he'll go in for the treatment soon. Please pray for a miracle. Please.

Thursday, February 3, 2005 11:31 AM CST
9:30 Thursday
We're at the Gamma Knife Center, Dave had the headframe placed and is now in MRI. We'll get the results shortly.

We met with the docs yesterday. Dr. Spence went over his history very carefully. We appreciate his thoroughness. He's the only one who caught the growth the time before the second surgery. He said that Dave's platelets were still too low to begin chemo and said that his white cells are also now low, which carries a risk of infection. He can't start any chemo until those counts rebound. We discussed 3 different options: accutane (used as an acne med, given in high doses sometimes kills cancer cells), tamoxifen (a hormonal treatment often used in breast cancer), and thalidomide (used to be used for morning sickness, caused major birth defects, is now used to inhibit the growth of blood vessels, which tumors need to grow). None of these are stellar options. He said that Dave may be able to do more carboplatin at a lower dose. We also talked about doing a combo of these agents, either at the same time or in rotation. We will be seeking second opinions from Duke and San Fransisco again.

They had a hard time starting his IV today, and a hard time with his blood draw yesterday, time to consider a port, especially if he goes on an IV chemo.

His platelets are at 133,000, which is approaching normal. This is good news. His white cells are at 1.6, normal is around 3.0. They gave him a preventative dose of antibiotics to prevent infection.

Denise is here, thank goodness. Peter is here, too, but we can't find him right now! We had a nice sleep and Evy & Erik's last night. Good to see good friends! We also had the traditional pre-procedure dinner at Old Spaghetti Factory. Jodie is our nurse today, she is FABULOUS! Dr. Rockhill is great, too. He's the one who kept us sane at the hospital and is the doc who keeps us informed. We so appreciate both of them.

Will write again while Dave's in the machine. Love you all....keep praying!

Wednesday, February 2, 2005 1:18 AM CST
Kids say the darndest things....even when they're teenagers. Dave's students are some of the most incredible people we have ever met. They are all unique, and bring such a wonderful, fresh perspective to life and living. They are talented, caring, funny and smart. Bob brought us some cards that they made for Dave tonight. Some made us cry and some made us laugh until we cried. All of them touched our hearts.

When Dave played his guitar and sang "Refugee" at the Conspiracy of Hope concert, the students' love for him filled the auditorium. It's something that simply cannot be described. I think those kids know that he truly loves them, he really cares. And they are there to support us.

I have scanned some of the cards to the photos page. Will add some more when we get back from Seattle. I'm not sure any card can top our two favorites from 1997. The first one said: "Bummer about your cancerous tumor, man." The second said: "I was shocked when I heard about your tumor. Probably not as shocked as you though."

Some of the front runners tonight include:

"A get well card to one of the best people in the world, from the other one."

"Get better now."

"Get well soon, so you can come back and yell at us some more!"

"Hope you get well soon!! Get lots of rest and for goodness sakes watch some movies!! There are some good ones out there."

"What's the one thing that could brighten your day while you're away from school? Midget Men!!" (Inside of card is filled with little stick people. This is one I'll scan soon.)

"If I could, I'd take down each and every little cancer cell you have." (Cover has drawing of two wrestlers, will scan this one, too.)

"I've never met you, but my best friend is always telling me how lucky I am to have you as a teacher this semester. She had you a couple of years ago, but she still remembers. She said you're the only teacher that ever made her WANT to learn. She also said you had an amazingly beautiful soul."

"You gain strength, courage and confidence by every experience in which you really stop to look fear in the face. You are able to say to yourself, 'I lived through this horror. I can take the next thing that comes along.' Eleanor Roosevelt -- We all miss you and wish you were here with us. Come back soon."

"Isaiah 40:29 He gives power to those who are tired and worn out; He offers strength to the weak. -- I will be praying for you."

"Wishing you a WHALE of a recovery!" (drawing of a whale.)

"Don't blow up your briefcase again!" (If you don't know this story, you HAVE to call me and hear it!)

"Keep fighting!"

"Stars
I see the stars
Can you see the stars?
The stars all the way to mars
Stars driving fancy cars
This one star has gone very far
The star I know belongs to the Blue Devils
He's reached many stars
And succeeded every level
This star is Mr. Meyer
A triumph fighter"
Ken Sanchez (Ichiro)

"Yo Mr. Meyer, Hope you're having a splendid time away from school. You better be. Well, git 'r well--you know what I mean."

"You are in my prayers. I pray that God will bless and heal you."

"Hope you get better soon. Mrs. Meyer loves ya, I know it."

"Since you won't be here until April, we wish you a Happy President's Day and a very special Valentine's Day."

"You are an extremely strong man and many look up to you. You are in my prayers and just remember you are loved and cared for by an amazing God. Stay strong!"

There are some other portraits of Dave, too, as well as some beautiful drawings. Some guitar drawings, too. One very beautiful picture and sweet note from a girl who plays guitar and earlier this school year, she lost her grandma to cancer. She's right in what she says; it's a horrible thing, cancer. But it cannot take away from us the things that really matter, the love we have for the people in our lives. That love is eternal, it lasts for always. Like Maya Angelou said, "People may not remember what you said, they may not remember what you did, but they will always remember how you made them feel." Tonight, we feel loved, blessed, comforted and strengthened. Thank you for that.

Monday, January 31, 2005 10:44 AM CST
Monday, Monday....

Not a lot new to report. The roller coaster has seemed to slow down for a bit, anyway!

Dave's recovery continues to move forward. This third time is a little harder, a little slower.

Dave got his staples out on Friday (a bit of a painful process...Dr. Sacks gave me the tweezers so Dave could pinch him next time he's in!)

They also checked his platelets. They were low again, 52,000. So he got an infusion of platelets on Friday afternoon. His platelets were 71,000 on Monday, so they aren't dropping as fast as they were. That's good news, as it means that he is finally beginning to make his own platelets. They will check his platelets again on Wednesday.

Next leg of the journey (also known as "when the roller coaster starts up again"), we travel to Seattle on Wednesday and meet with Dr. Rockhill about the gamma knife. Then we will meet with Dr. Spence. The meeting with Dr. Spence is crucial. He'll be recommending a chemo regimen, and we have lots of questions for him. There's a good chance that we will want to seek a second opinion from Duke and/or San Francisco. The chemo piece will be the key to keeping this thing from growing again, and UW doesn't have the most aggressive approach.

They will also do an MRI to see how much the residual tumor has grown in 2 weeks. It's on the big side for gamma knife already, so if it has grown much at all, they may not be able to do the gk. So, please pray that the residual tumor has remained stable and is within the size limits for the gamma knife.

Denise will be there with us for gk, and Angel Jodie will be our nurse again. Mom and Dad will be holding down the fort with the kids. Thanks to Mom & Dad and Bob & Judy for all their help these past two weeks.

Blessings to each of you who take the time to read this, who take the time to pray for Dave and our family. Dave really appreciates the notes on the guestbook, and he LOVES it when people write in with the nicknames...Sherriff, Gilligan, Charlie, and others....Thanks! It made Dave smile.

Please pray for our friend, Mark, his 4 children and wife, and his mom, Marguerite. Mark is a 5 year survivor of a brain tumor and has been in the hospital since Monday. The doctors here are not offering any options, so they are seeking advice from other places. Please pray that they will find what is needed to bring healing and health to Mark.

Wednesday, January 26, 2005 2:00 PM CST
SPECIAL EVENT TONIGHT AND THURSDAY NIGHT!!

CONSPIRACY OF HOPE CONCERT
WALLA WALLA HIGH SCHOOL AUDITORIUM
7:00 PM
SPECIAL APPEARANCE BY THE GUITAR MAN DAVE

DON'T MISS IT!
PROCEEDS BENEFIT TSUNAMI VICTIMS

**For medical update from yesterday...good news!...see journal history.

**See new photos on the photo page.

MORE GOOD NEWS: The ambulance bill has been taken care of, turns out it fell through the cracks and had never been submitted to insurance! Whew! Thank you Paul and Teri for your offers of assistance in the legal matters. You guys are amazing!

Tuesday, January 25, 2005 8:44 PM CST
Well, we finally talked to a doctor that had real information for us. We talked to Dr. Rockhill (Rocklin?) at the Gamma Knife Center at Harborview.

First: pathology report. Dave's tumor has not gotten more aggressive since last surgery. This is good news. It's still an Anaplastic Astrocytoma III. Tumors are graded from I-IV. I being a slower-growing, less infiltrating tumor and IV being the most aggressive and malignant. Dave's tumor was initially a grade II eight years ago. The tumors tend to become more aggressive over time. The best explanation of why is that during each treatment (radiation or chemo) you will kill off tumor cells. The cells that die first are the least aggressive, leaving the hardiest, most aggressive cells that multiply. Anyway, we were relieved that we are not dealing with a grade IV, more commonly known as GBM or glioblastoma multiforme.

Second: some of the tissue that was removed was necrosis. Necrosis is dead tissue from radiation. This can cause swelling and other problems. This is from his previous gamma knife treatment. It is difficult on an MRI to tell the difference between tumor growth and necrosis. Sometimes a PET scan can tell the difference, but not always. So it turns out that all the "growth" they saw on the scan was not live tissue. This is a good thing...it means the previous gamma knife did kill some tumor. The problem with radiation necrosis is that it can cause the same problems that the original tumor did. There is a pretty good explanation of all that at http://www.braintumorfoundation.org/tumors/gamma.htm

Third: some of the tissue they removed was LOWER grade. This is amazingly good news.

Fourth: the tumor board all agrees that the remainder of the tumor should be treated with gamma knife. The surgeon did not remove this last part because is is deep in the motor strip and he felt would certainly leave Dave with some left side paralysis. So they feel that treating it with gamma knife is the best way to go.

Fifth: the downside: Treating the residual tumor with gamma knife will almost certainly cause swelling in that area, which means that Dave will have some left-side motor problems. How much is not known. Initially, it will subside when treated with steroids and as time lets the swelling subside. The problem is that in 3-6 months when the cells of the tumor in that area begin to die off, we could face radiation necrosis again, which would cause left-side motor problems, which would likely be permanent and if the necrosis is bad enough, might require more surgery to remove it.

Our alternatives are to: 1) Do nothing and watch. This option is unacceptable. The tumor would grow and cause the same problems....and worse. or 2) Try another chemo to see if it would shrink the tumor. All the tumor board docs agree that since Dave is young and relatively deficit-free that the more aggressive approach is what we should do, even given the risks. They were not hopeful that the tumor would respond to any conventional chemotherapies, as it has already developed resistance to the best chemos available. After gamma knife, we will be adding a new chemo regimen, but it has a better chance to work in combination with the radiation.

So, we are scheduled for gamma knife on Thursday, February 3rd. We'll go to meet with both the gamma knife guy (Dr. Rock-n-Roll as Dave calls him) and the neuro-onc (Dr. Spence) on the Wednesday before. Dr. Rock also said that they would do an MRI and that there is the real possibility that the tumor will have grown enough in these two weeks since surgery to make it ineligible for gamma knife.

So that's the deal. Dave will get his staples out on Friday here in WW. HOORAY!

So prayer requests:

1. First, foremost, obviously and always: pray for complete and total eradication of every cancer cell from Dave's body.

2. Pray that the tumor will not grow so they can perform the gamma knife.

3. Pray the gamma knife will target the tumor, spare surrounding tissue and that Dave will experience minimal swelling and no problematic necrosis, so that he'll retain full use of his left side....he really wants to still be able to play his guitar!

4. Pray that the next chemo regimen will be the one that this tumor is sensitive to and that the chemo will kill any remaining cells and keep the tumor from growing.

I think that's it. If you've hung with me this far, thanks for reading, thanks for caring, thanks for praying. I hope I remembered everything.

Love you all, Shelley

Monday, January 24, 2005 9:25 PM CST
Monday night.

Dave went to the hospital to get his platelets checked. I'm worried because he is having a lot of nausea, and threw up today. This could mean increased intracranial pressure.

He decided to take a nap before going to the hospital. Grrr. Finally went, and his platelets are down to 77,000. Which is low, but not critically low. The doctor at the cancer center didn't seem to think he needed an infusion. They were going to check with Dr. Spence. Who incidentally didn't have a clue that Dave had required daily transfusions of platelets while in the hospital. We'll do some more checking tomorrow. It's so frustrating. Why didn't I go to med school?

I did get a wonderful note of apology from PiHi. They have revised their policy and will be reviewing the students on a case-by-case basis before sending out any of those blanket form letters. They were very nice about it, and very sorry that they had caused us additional stress. It was nice to be heard.

Didn't work on the ambulance thing today. Some things have to wait until tomorrow.

Thanks for all your support. You guys are da bomb. Love you all. Shelley

Sunday, January 23, 2005 11:30 PM CST
Wow, what an experience. We got up this morning, and made it to church. Now we are really home. It was incredible. All those smiling faces. To see so many who had held us up all week was wonderful, to hear the voices lifted in song. You truly are His hands, His feet, doing His work. We remain awed and humbled by the love we are shown.

Dave is resting. Finally through with all the poking they do in the ICU, he is able to really sleep.

He's looking more bruised today, but less puffy. Balance is still an issue, and you know our Dave. Why only do one flight of stairs when you can do two? Why ask for help if you think you can get it on your own? Heavens, I think.....he survived brain surgery only to kill himself on the stairs!! He's getting better about letting us help him.

We'll go to the hospital tomorrow to check the platelets. I'm worried, since he had at least one infusion of platelets each day in the hospital and it's been 2 days since they've been checked.

Hopefully, we'll hear from gamma knife tomorrow.

Dave's spirits are good. I ask him how he feels, and he says TERRIFIC! It's amazing. I think I use that word a lot, but I can't find another that does him justice. He's a strong and courageous warrior, doing battle with the armour of God protecting him.

Thank you for the smiles, the hugs, the food, the flowers, the notes, the financial help with the extra travel and medical expenses, and the prayers and especially the love. Without love, we are nothing.

Saturday, January 22, 2005 8:14 PM CST
We're home!!! Hooray! Dave is looking better each day. His left side weakness is about the same as yesterday. He says his left leg just sometimes decides to say, "see ya!" and leaves. So far so good on the stairs, tho. His thought processes and response time are better than before surgery. Praise the Lord! Now if we can just find a way to keep it from growing again.

Now the complaints. Just time for me to whine, I guess. Feel free to check out now.

1. Pioneer Middle School has the NERVE to send me a nasty letter about Zach's absences. Geeze. The kid broke his arm and has a sick dad. And still had a 3.85 at last grade report. Imagine. *sarcasm on* Good thing I kept them informed about what was going on, asked for his assignments ahead of time and helped him keep caught up in classes. *sarcasm off* (Well, he did fall behind in science some, but should be caught up by Monday.) Just irksome. You'd think those absences were for shopping trips. Grr!

2. The ambulance company in Pasco is sending us to collections because our insurance still hasn't paid the $777 that it cost to transport Z to the hospital when he broke his arm.

3. We STILL don't know when gamma knife is.

4. The oncologist from UW had nothing to tell me, just that he'd talk to Dr. Sacks.

Okay, I think I need some sleep and a good cry. Must be all that driving. I think I have ITF disorder....inability to tolerate frustration.

Tomorrow will be better. Love, Shelley

Friday, January 21, 2005 6:03 PM CST
Man, was I tired last night! Look at all those typos!

Today is a good day. First some jokes.

Nurse: "Dave, are you an organ donor?"
Dave: "Yes I am, but not today or tomorrow."

Dave, looking out at torrential rain on the pass and over a foot of standing water: "How ya doin', Denise?"
Denise: "We don't need chains...we need a BOAT!"

Michelle, to Judy as Erik, Peter and Mark tell the ICU nurses that they are ALSO Dave's brothers so they can get in to see him, "So how was it raising 7 boys?"
Judy: "Well, after the first 3 it was a piece of cake!"

Dave was discharged today. We still don't have a date for gamma knife, but it looks like probably next week or the week after.

His platelets are barely holding, but they didn't have to give him an infusion today, so hopefully they're on the way back up. He'll get checked in WW Monday or Tuesday.

Dave is gaining strength and balance quickly. Each day brings great progress. He's still got quite a bit of work to do, and tends to run into that left side wall, but he's doing well, and can do the stairs, so that's good.

His faith and magnetic personality still shine through. There was a woman in the waiting room who was also visiting a woman in the bed next to Dave. When we went into the hall to practice the stairs, she heard Dave say he was thirsty. She ran to the cafeteria and got him some water. There was another gentleman visiting his son. He got up to congratulate Dave and wish him well. People are so wonderful.

We're in Kelso right now, and will spend the night here. Then with our escorts, Bob & Judy, we'll make the rest of the drive tomorrow. Dave can't wait to see the kids. When I get a little sleep, I'll log the stories of the kids & ICU. Got a few pictures, too.

Thank you, thank you for everything. KOKO!

PS. Please pray for Allison. She is 10 years old. She has a tumor in the brain stem. Her 2 year survival anniversary was yesterday. She is an amazing little girl, and this disease has ravaged her. After surgery, radiation and chemo, she was hospitalized for 4 months, couldn't talk for 3 months, and now, 2 years later, she still uses a wheelchair. She continues to improve, and her tumor was stable at last MRI. She has an MRI coming up soon. Although I will probably never know the outcome, I pray for her and her family. Her grandmother was Dave's roommate in ICU...she has colon cancer that has spread throughout her abdomen. This family has been hit very hard.

We are very blessed. In the brain tumor/cancer world, we are one of the few, very lucky ones. Please pray that this merciful gift will continue for us, and be granted to others like Allison. If you can order a gray wristband from www.abta.org the proceeds go to brain cancer research. Love, peace and joy to each of you.

Friday, January 21, 2005 2:41 AM CST
Hello everyone. Dave continues to amaze us with his resilience, strength and faith. He's doing reallly well today. His eye is really, really puffy from fluid buildup, but it's starting to go down. He got up and walked a little today, and he found it exhausting and he was pretty wobblly, it was good to see him up and around with thatfamous smile..

we still haven't heard much. there is some residual tumor, and they think they can gamma knife that but we don't know when that will be. We'll get pathology report and chem plan next Friay when they take out his staples. He's scheduled togo home tomorrow!!

I am in awe of him. Icannot believe how well he is doing. Hispersonality is definitely intact. He's the same sweet guy. And h did tell me "not today" for those of yu that know that signal.

Well working on a very stragne keyboard, and very tired. Will see you soon. Thank you for everything. PS. we go a great nurse today!

Thursday, January 20, 2005 1:30 AM CST
Hello faithful prayer warriors!! Keep it up!! It's working, it's working, God is merciful and great and hears our every prayer, knowing our every need before we ask.

Dave is in pretty good spirits this evening. He is processing so much quicker than before the surgery, and the droop on his face is completely gone. He is able to move his arm completely and freely and is also able to move his leg. He is weak, but this will resolve with work and time and as the swelling goes down.

He takes such strength from knowing how many are praying for him and thinking of him. Please keep those notes coming, they mean the world.

My mom and dad took the kids home today, travel was good. Hooray. Bob & Judy and Bob, Mindy & kids and Greg, Stephanie and kids are staying until tomorrow. Denise is right here beside me, every step of the way. Thanks for the note Bonnie, Dave needs me, and I'm glad I have Denise to keep me going and mom & dad to make sure the kids are okay.

The docs from tumor board met and then shared the results....WITH DAVE!!! What were they thinking??? He isn't quite sure what they said. He thinks gamma knife is coming, but he also said tonight and his nurse looked at him like he had a hole in his head...ha (okay, bad pun, but it's almost midnight and Denise and I are doing laundry, so we're entitled. Ask us about the green puzzle sometime! The one with the ducks.)

Dave's pain is better, they have him on oral pain med (oxycodone) now rather than morphine, so he's more alert.

The OT came and tried to get Dave to stand up. He said, "Nope, not gonna do it, my head hurts." So the PT came, made him stand up and he promptly threw up on her. Serves her right, I'd say. He's been getting zofran for the nausea.

I forgot to check on platelets tonight, they did have to give him additional platelets this morning.

He had the nurse from hell all day today, but the night nurse is a gem. Let's hope that it's better tomorrow. I think the nurse was just mad that we took over the waiting room. We had 20 people here supporting Dave all yesterday and today. Plus Erik, Evy, Canute, Sonja, Mark, and then some school folks dropped by. How great that there was an OSPI conference in Seattle. Thanks for coming, Brian, Ron, Kenny, Malia, Missy and Rob.

Thanks for everything. Now, like Zach said, "God, do your stuff...amen!"

Wednesday, January 19, 2005 3:08 PM CST
Dearest Ones,
it's noon on Wednesday. Last night was pretty scary. They finished surgery around 6:00 and we talked to the doctor who said that everything went fine "mechanically" and that we'd have to wait and see when Dave woke up how things were.

We got to see Dave in the recovery room around 7:00 and he was very groggy. Much more so than the other times. Turns out that he was shaking very badly after surgery, from the trauma to his brain/body and the loss of blood so they gave him demerol. This made it much harder for him to wake up. He seemed very out of it, not too responsive and he had great difficulty moving his left side. After very many tries by me and the nurse, he finally did move his left hand and leg a little.

At around 8:00, they took him to ICU. We got to see him around 10:00. He was a little more with it then. He opened his eyes and when I said he had scared me, he said, "Typical Meyer move!" And I knew we were okay then. He was still experiencing a lot of weakness and difficulty on the left side, and with so much bleeding there was a real risk of that being due to a stroke. So they ordered an MRI. I looked at the order and it said "urgent" with really freaked me out. I tell you, I don't think I've ever prayed so hard. They took him to MRI about 10:30 and I asked the doctor to come tell me about the results.

FINALLY, at 2:30 he did. He was not Dave's neurosurgeon, he was an intern or resident of some sort....he was in with Dave during surgery. Anyway, he said that the MRI looked good, that he didn't see any bleeding. He was not able to hazard a guess about how much of the tumor they were able to remove. He did say they checked the margins carefully, which involves removing what they think is tumor, and then taking a small sample of the surrounding tissue and doing a frozen section to see if there are malignant cells in that tissue. He said that the tumor board would meet this after noon to determine a lot of things: 1. Grade of the tumor (how aggressive it is...graded on a I, II, III or IV. Dave's was a III, it may have changed.) 2. How much tumor was removed, how much remains. 3. If they need to do gamma knife on any remaining tumor. 4. The next chemo protocol.

When we saw Dave this morning, he was much better! Praise the Lord for his merciful love and his mighty protection! He is getting stronger on his left side and he is talking to us, just like Dave! He's having less difficulty opening his eyes and the droop on the left side of his face looks better to me.

Dave did have to have another infusion of platelets today. Please pray his body will rebound and heal from the effects of the last chemo (carboplatin) and begin making his own platelets.

He is in some pain, but because they did the MRI so soon, this time he is able to have some morphine. They usually only give tylenol after brain surgery because the narcotics can mask the symptoms of a brain bleed.

They had placed a drain in the surgical cavity to prevent fluid build-up in his brain. That has been removed.

They have given the order for him to move to the medical floor and out of ICU as soon as a bed opens up. That's great news.

The kids were able to see him this morning and are quite reassured after seeing that Dad is still Dad.

Please pray for:

Dave to be able to make his own platelets and for all bleeding to continue to be controlled.

For pain relief for Dave.

For strength and control to return fully to his left side. I mean, he HAS to be able to play his guitar, and that requires a dexterous left hand!

Safe travel for my parents and the kids as they go back to Walla Walla this afternoon.

Peace of mind for the children as they have to be away from Dave and I.

We love you all so much. Thank you for your love and your prayers and your support.

Tuesday, January 18, 2005 6:50 PM CST
It's Tuesday at almost 5:00 pm. Dave went into surgery at noon and they started operating at about 1:00. They expect the surgery to last until about 6:00 pm. Dave is holding his own, but his platelets were very low despite 3 transfusions. He has had a lot of bleeding and they are concerned, so they were just starting a transfusion when they called me at 4:00.

We came to the hospital last night and they admitted Dave to administer the platelets. His count was around 20,000 and they wanted him at 100,000 to do surgery. Normal is around 400,000. The second transfusion brought him to 127,000. Please pray that the bleeding will be completely controlled.

The trip here was awful, there was freezing rain, snow, ice and flooding. It took us 9 hours to get to Seattle. They closed the pass right after we got through. Thank you for your prayers, we got here safely and just in time.

Seems the power of prayer for Dave is red hot, literally. Last time we were in Seattle for surgery, the hotel caught fire. Today there was a fire in the hospital. We were evacuated, and the fire trucks came, but it was cleared up pretty quickly. The nurse from surgery that I talked to didn't even know it happened, so that was good.

Thanks for all your thoughts and prayers. KOKO!!

Sunday, January 16, 2005 1:37 AM CST
*SEE NEW PHOTOS ON PHOTO PAGE*

Whew! What a day!

We left Friday morning around 6 am and went to Seattle. Praise the Lord, the roads were clear. We spent about 5 hours at the hospital, and met with Dr. Silbergeld and Dr. Rocklin. Dr. S is certain he can remove at least 90f the tumor.

The tumor is in a less tricky spot this time, as far as critical brain structures, so that's good. It is very near some major blood vessels which is a big concern. Bleeding in the brain is a real problem, your brain is about the consistency of custard, so there's no way to stitch that, in case of bleeding. Dr. S said that given the situation, the surgery is about as risky as it was last time.

We met the Haroldsons at Spaghetti Factory for a lovely dinner. Took a little detour getting back to the freeway. As a leader, Erik...fabulous, as a follower, me...not so much.

We heard from Dr. S's nurse, Cynthia, and she said that Dave's platelets were low from the chemo, so he needed a platelet infusion right away and to go to the ER when we got back to Walla Walla. We did. They, of course, knew nothing of what we were talking about. Finally woke up 3 different doctors, but it took Jim Butler, nurse extraordinaire, to get the ball rolling. Unfortunately, they had to order platelets from Portland. Soooooo....we went home at 2 am, got a little sleep, put Kenny on the ski bus at 6:30, and later went to the hospital to have the platelet infusion. They will check his platelets again before surgery and probably give him more just to be safe.

The surgery is scheduled for Tuesday the 18th. He goes for an MRI at 10 and then goes into surgery around 11am. Please pray for him and the surgeons at that time. He will be at the UW Medical Center, and will probably be there until Friday. They will do an MRI on Wednesday to determine whether they can do gamma knife again or not, and that will be done before he leaves the hospital.

Today, we celebrated Kate's 9th birthday. We took a bunch of little girls ice skating. What a wild ride. They had a lot of fun.

There will be a healing service for Dave at the College Place Presbyterian Church tomorrow, Sunday, at 7 pm. We'd love to see you if you can make it. It's a time for prayer, worship, annointing with oil and laying on of hands.

Thanks to everyone who's helping out....grandparents with the kids, Wendye the ever-faithful, Karen with the travel snacks, Mindy with the care package and everyone with meals. We are so grateful.

Now pray for this darn snow to stop so we can get back to Seattle!! :-)

Love you all, m

Friday, January 14, 2005 0:00 AM CST
Okay, now we heard back from the tumor board at UW. The surgeon who did Dave's last surgery is confident that he can remove 90% of this new growth. Then the gamma knife guy said it would be small enough to gamma knife the rest of it. He said the goal would be to get Dave back to "microscopic disease" before starting another chemo. Wow!

This was unexpected, and sudden. They are convinced we have no time to wait. I am, too. We will meet with the surgeon tomorrow. Please pray for safe travel and for the docs to have supernatural, God-inspired wisdom as we come up with the RIGHT plan.

We're probably looking at surgery Wednesday.

Thursday, January 13, 2005 6:25 PM CST
Heard from Dr. Friedman at Duke today. He is *the* BT guy in the US. He said for Dave to have this next round of carboplatin then get an MRI and send him the scans and he'll help us with the next step. I feel soooo much better having him on board.

The gamma knife board reviewed Dave's scans and they are certain that the enlargement on the scans represents new growth. He said one of the larger lesions may have necrosis in the middle of it, but that overall the scan shows progression of the tumor.

The UW tumor board reviewed Dave's scans yesterday to see about adding another agent to the current chemo and to check the possibility of more surgery. The gamma knife guy (Dr. Rocklin) didn't think that surgery would be an option due to location of the tumor. He also said that more gamma knife is not an option because the growth is too big. And besides, obviously the gamma knife didn't work.

So, pray that this carboplatin is doing its job. Dave has been pretty ill, he's very nauseous all the time and is very tired. He's falling asleep at every chance. How he works at school all day I'll never know.

His next infusion is scheduled for the 20th, we'll schedule an MRI for shortly after that. Meantime, keep up that most powerful weapon in our arsenal...PRAYER!

Monday, January 3, 2005 11:26 AM CST
Well, Dave is sick. He went to work anyway, but he's quite nauseated. This is good news, we think. The last chemo didn't make him sick, and it didn't work. Maybe this is a sign it's doing its job. Please, God, help this chemo attack every last malignant cell and eradicate all signs of cancer. In His precious name, Amen.

Thursday, December 30, 2004 10:47 PM CST
Today is a sad day. We're taking down the Christmas tree, and that's always a little sad. It's the time of year we think of Kyle more than usual, too. And today's news didn't help.

Dave's MRI was not good. The tiny spots that were treated with gamma knife have grown hugely since September 30. There is a lot of swelling from the growth and there is mass effect, which means his brain is being squished to the side because of tumor growth. It's pretty obvious the BCNU is not working with growth this rampant.

So we called UW. The doc there recommended carboplatin. We called Duke as well, but Dr. Friedman isn't in the office today. So we went ahead with the carboplatin. It's essential to get something going right away. And if Duke has something else to offer, the carboplatin shouldn't interfere. Worst case he might have to wait 3 weeks to start a different treatment.

We need a miracle, folks. Because Dave's tumor bed (the site where the original tumor was removed) opens to a ventricle, he is not eligible for many of the promising new treatments that are in clinical trials right now. We'll see what Duke says, but it looks like it's a matter of trying different chemos and combos of chemos and antiangiogensis agents (which inhibit blood vessel growth...tumors grow huge numbers of blood vessels to feed themselves).

So please pray. If you've been praying, thank you and please keep going. Pray every day. One trick I learned is put a little dot on your watch...when you see it it will remind you to pray for Dave. If you have a LiveStrong or brain tumor awareness wrist band...wear it every day and when you see it, remember to pray. Put Dave on any prayer chain you know about.

I guess I sound a little desperate. I feel a little desperate.

Lots of love to all of you, Shelley

Wednesday, December 29, 2004 11:58 AM CST
Yesterday, Dave had his birthday....and an MRI. With the MRI tech from hell he says. 5 sticks before they got it. Pray this was because she is lousy and not because Dave's veins are giving out.

We should get results tomorrow. If blood counts are good and tumor is stable or (please, God) shrinking, then he'll have his next BCNU infusion tomorrow. If blood counts are poor, but MRI is good, we wait for his counts to come up. If counts are okay, but MRI is bad, then we need a plan C...or is it D...just how far down the dern alphabet are we, anyway?? I know we're NOT to Z.

Hope to post birthday pics soon. We celebrated with Mindy, whose birthday is today. Happy Birthday, Mindy!

Friday, December 24, 2004 1:53 PM CST

8 years ago yesterday, I didn't want Dave and his brother to drive to Portland (4 hour trip each way) in the snow just to pick up a table. I wanted him to stay home with me. Since I was so witchy, they decided to leave really, really early, the plan being to get back early, so I'd have less to complain about. So I was barely out of bed when I got the call from the state patrol...."your husband has been taken to the hospital...." Took me an HOUR to find the hospital, finallly they said he'd be fine, come get him. His brother just needed a couple of stitches where the coffee thermos had hit him. Whew. My dad drove me to the hospital a few hours away from home.

When I got there, Dave said, "Something's growing in my head." I thought he'd lost his marbles. I asked the doc, "Is he okay?" The doc popped the CT film over the lights and said, "Not really." The tumor, visible to my untrained eye, was huge, the size of a tennis ball, and pushing Dave's brain to the side. "We noticed his eyes were unequally dilated, so we were ruling out a head injury, and found this." I shook my head...."That has to come out!" I said. "You're right about that the doctor said. I looked at my incredible, amazing husband, young, healthy, strong. It was inconceivable. Unacceptable.

Thus began our BT journey. Dilantin, decadron, surgery, seizures, radiation, dismal prognosis. The whole package. Thankfully that package also included friends, family, prayer, delivered meals, fundraisers, concerts, hugs, hand-holding and six and a half years of perfectly clean scans.

We're in the midst of battle again. We baked a cake yesterday and Dave celebrated his 8th birthday. He celebrates his 42nd birthday on the 28th, and has an MRI that day. We're hoping for another miracle.

We've been given 8 wonderful years. Kate was just a baby when Dave was diagnosed. Now she's 8 1/2 years old, in third grade, and every bit the Daddy's girl she was meant to be. Our sons are growing into fine young men, every bit the image of their wonderful father, following his inspirational example, learning from his continual presence in their lives.

We have been blessed on this rollercoaster ride. There are so many people to thank, so many who have been our feet when we couldn't walk, our voices when we couldn't pray. You're all amazing.

Happy Birthday, Dave!

Thursday, December 2, 2004 4:05 PM CST
There are brain tumor awareness wristbands available now. They are like the Lance Armstrong cancer awareness wristbands, but they are soft gray in color...representing the "gray matter" of the brain. They say "Sharing Hope" and are available on the American Brain Tumor Association website: http://www.abta.org

Tuesday, November 30, 2004 2:16 AM CST
Dave is still doing well. His labs were today and they are still good. His pulmonary function test was last week, no results yet.

He's pretty tired, and still has that nagging cough and a bit of a sore throat.

Now....the rest of us, well, that's another story. Kenny broke his perfect attendance record of 6 years and was sick the whole week of Thanksgiving and missed school. He was soooo mad. I stayed home with him and got it, too. No strep, though, the doc says it's adeno-virus. Kate came down with it middle of the night, well, actually Sunday morning. I was down for 5 days solid, felt horrible for another 3 and am still coughing. Kenny was the same, so I expect Kate to be down til Thursday or Friday. She has it in her eye, too. Ick. Should have known to up the vitamin regimen when I said,
"Gee, it's been ages since the kids were sick!"

Zach went to Seattle with the Dammarell family to see Drew Bledsoe slaughter the Seahawks. He also got to go swimming, horseback riding, stay in a suite, eat room service and apparently avoid all germs. After the fall he's had, I'd say nobody deserves it more! He had a great time. Thanks Linda, Tom and Jacob.

The NINE fairy hats are all finished for the recital, (100 glue sticks later--no, I'm not kidding)...now just the santa hat and skirt...and only one of those! Going to bed!

Love you all.

Sunday, November 21, 2004 2:13 AM CST
Saturday night, Dave's not sick. He's very, very tired, but no nausea or anything. We rested today.

Thank you, thank you for all the prayers.

Friday, November 19, 2004 4:09 PM CST
Well.....

the BCNU is in! They did everything right this time, including protecting it from the light. And Dave's still not sick. I guess this is good.

He went to Kenny's basketball game right after chemo was done (Thanks Brother Bob for sitting with him through the infusion). Then he came home and ate a Big Mac and some of Janet's fabulous apple pie. Graded some papers and eventually went to bed. He's at work today.

I'm sure that he's Clark Kent's twin. Or at least his cousin.

Zach is off crutches...limping quite a bit, but we don't think the toe is broken. Bruised some, but not too bad. The nail is broken at the base, so that's the ouchiest part. Zach said his goal is to not get injured again this year. He said this, then promptly walked into the wall at the top of our stairs and proceeded to stumble down the stairs. How is it that this kid can pitch a baseball into the mitt every single time and catch a grape in his mouth from 20 feet away while diving across the bed, but he can't walk straight??

KOKO! Love you all, Shelley

Tuesday, November 16, 2004 5:33 PM CST
I tell ya what. God's got some weird sense of humor. Got a call from PiHi today. Two of them. From the nurse.

#1 Zach hurt his foot and is on crutches. We'll probably go to the doc when he gets his arm checked next and have it x-rayed to see if he broke his toe.

#2 Kenny had two odd episodes of shaking today at school and they're wondering if they are seizures. About 30% of kids with autism begin having seizures when they hit puberty.

My heel is better. I can wear shoes and walk...although I do kind of lurch like Frankenstein.

Dave is coughing so much he's puking.

So far Kate is safe.

As the hound on Aristocats says, "Kreiminitly!"

Sunday, November 14, 2004 11:47 PM CST
Dave has his next infusion on Thursday, November 18 at 1:00 pm. If you can, please pray. Pray for: protection of the chemo itself so that it gets into Dave's veins fully potent, that the chemo will attack and kill all remaining tumor cells and that Dave will tolerate the infusion and subsequent nausea well.

I hurt my foot on Friday. Thought I cracked a bone in my heel, but it's quite a bit better today. Pray I'll get well so that I can take care of everyone else!

We see the original doc for Zach's arm tomorrow and the second opinion guy next Tuesday. Please pray for Zach's arm. He's doing his exercises faithfully, and is already regaining a lot of motion, but it's far from good.

Thank you so much for the way you faithfully hold us up in prayer.

On the fun notes, Kate is preparing for her dance recital, which other than making 9 costume hats, is a lot of fun. Kenny is enjoying basketball, his coach is a gem. He has a home game on Tuesday.

Sunday, November 7, 2004 1:10 AM CST
Dave got his blood counts on Friday. They look good. Hooray and thank you for all your prayers...they worked! Or rather, God worked!

New prayer request. Zach's arm is not healing well. They took off his cast 3 weeks early, because the bone is bowed. The doctor wants Zach to exercise his hand and see if it can be pulled back in line. Zach has lost almost all mobility in his left hand. He's quite upset because that's his catcher's glove hand. His arm looks quite crooked as well. We're going to seek a second opinion this coming week. Please pray for wisdom for the doctors and complete healing for Zach. He's devastated that the injury may affect baseball.

Denise and kids are here for a visit. Soooo much fun. And Kenny has been quite hospitable. What a rare treat! Amy and Kate are joined at the hip, I think.

I have reduced my hours at work...it's just been too much. My supervisor, Melinda, has been encouraging, supportive and helpful. I'm hoping that being home when the kids get home every day will help lend some stability. Please pray for some sense of peace for the kids, it's been pretty chaotic. Pray for us around this decision, too, please, as it will stress us financially, but with Dave working such long hours at football, it just seems the right step to take.

Wednesday, November 3, 2004 2:57 PM CST
This song reminds me of the comfort and rest we get from our Father, if we only ask.

Rock Me To Sleep
By Tom Hunter

All I can hear are the crickets
And the whistle from some lonely freight
I've been working so hard to make everything right,
But for now, it'll just have to wait.

(CHORUS)
'Cause tonight I'd like you to rock me to sleep.
I'd like you to sing me a song.
I'm tired of trying to figure things out
And I'm tired of being so strong.

I've never been too good at asking--
I'm more apt to do it alone.
And it's strange how a lot of us think something's wrong
If we can't do it all on our own.
CHORUS

It's funny how times when you're hurtin'
Make what's so familiar seem strange.
So when you need help, it's hardest to ask
And it always takes so long to change.
CHOURUS

Monday, November 1, 2004 12:45 AM CST
Life rolls along at the Meyer house. Well, rolls may not be a bumpy enough word, but you get the idea.

Thanks to the generosity of the Pribilskys and the Wrights, we now have a wonderful new washing machine. We are so grateful....and laundry is actually fun again.

Bob's been trying to fix the hot water heater. We still leak, but we have hot water for showers, dishes and LAUNDRY! So we're blessed.

Dave is feeling pretty good. He's lost some weight and doesn't ever really feel hungry, but is trying to keep eating. His skin is really dry....his Ms. Clean wife has been pushing the washing of hands and the use of Purell at school, so he's added a hand cream to the regimen!\

Thank you for the prayers, please keep them coming. Dave has an appointment this week for labs. We hope his blood counts are holding steady. He's mostly over the virus he had, but the cough remains, and concerns me.

Conferences and football playoffs are coming...always a hard time of the year for Dave. Prayers for strength and energy and efficient TA's are needed.

Blessings to all of you who hold us up so faithfully. We are blessed beyond measure. We had a little Halloween gathering last night, and it was wonderful to be surrounded by friends. It was a happy night...pics to come.

Saturday, October 16, 2004 12:15 AM CDT
Dave's balance is better the last two days. He saw the doctor on Friday. The results of his bloodwork were great. No problem with his counts. His lung test was "fine" whatever that means. I'm still concerned about this cough that he can't shake. The doc doesn't think he has pneumonia.

We had a fun night last night. Dave stayed home from the game since it was in Wenatchee. Some of Z's friends came by and we played Dutch Blitz. It was a blast. Kate and her friend, Katie, did a fashion show, and we listened to the Currents on cd!

Wednesday, October 13, 2004 5:24 PM CDT
Today, Dave's balance is off. He's extremely fatigued. Went to school and had to call for a sub.

He had his PFT yesterday, we should get results when we meet with Dr. Sacks on Friday. Unfortunately, Dave's been battling a virus, so he's been coughing and hacking like crazy, so I don't imagine the test will be too accurate. He'll also have labs done.

These tests will be repeated in 5 weeks, when he's scheduled to have his next infusion, to see if he's able to have it. PFT and white/red cell counts have to be okay to do the infusion.

With the BCNU, turns out it was stored and mixed correctly. We're still not sure about whether it was protected from the light after it was mixed, but we know it was not during the time (2 hours) the infusion happened. Next time, we asked the pharmacy to protect it from light and it will be cloaked in light-blocking material as it is administered.

That's about it for now.

Monday, October 11, 2004 11:56 AM CDT
Well, is it good news or bad? Dave threw up yesterday. Hooray, I think. He felt okay to go to the football meeting yesterday and is at work today. So we just KOKO. Mom and Dad are here for a visit, it's been good to see them and the kids are so excited they get to sleep in the motorhome!

I'll be talking to the cancer center folks today to find out about the BCNU and how it was mixed/stored, etc.

Love you all.

Friday, October 8, 2004 9:21 PM CDT
I told Janet this morning that I was waiting for the other shoe to drop. Dave is still doing okay, he's feeling a little weak in the knees, and did gag once when he was coughing, but still cautiously okay.

The problems: received an email from a doc who specializes in bts. What follows is the text of an email he sent me.

"The thing to watch for is lung function.. get a referral to a pulmonary specialist for a baseline breathing test now, then repeat it frequently to catch the first signs of lung problems.
BCNU infusions are tricky if the nurses don't do it all of the time... it has to be in a glass container - not the plastic bags used for everything else, and protected from the light, and only lasts about 8 hours after they mix it unless it is refrigerated. If you notice they aren't following those rules, tell the doctor. The reason I mention this is I once talked to someone who also said he had no nausea and the bcnu wasn't working and he saw my page on bcnu (http://virtualtrials.com/bcnu2.cfm) and noted that he was getting it in a plastic bag, exposed to the light over a long period of time. He argued with the doctor who said it didn't need to be in glass, and they checked the package insert, and found it to be true. They
then tested it and found the iv bag only had a small % of the bcnu that it should have had.
Al."

Dave is getting the PFT (pulmonary function test) next week and before each new round. The BCNU was in a glass bottle, but I have no idea how long it was mixed and how long it was exposed to light, so the bad news is, the BCNU might have been compromised, and that might be the reason he has no nausea. We will call the doc on Monday and find out about the light exposure and how long it was mixed.

Big thank yous to Dale Smelcer who came and worked on Kenny's window today. Bless you, Dale, and LaDessa for offering him!

Love you all, Shelley

Friday, October 8, 2004 10:57 AM CDT
PRAISE THE LORD! HE IS SO GOOD TO US, AND PRAYER IS SO POWERFUL!

Thank you for your prayers, they are working, Dave has been protected from any nausea. He feels fine and is getting some extra sleep today.

He is so amazing, so inspiring. I'm so thankful to have such an incredible person in my life. He's the best husband and father I have ever seen, bar none!

MAKE A JOYFUL NOISE! Whoo hoo!!!!!

Thursday, October 7, 2004 8:09 PM CDT
Chemo is in!

So far, so good. It took 4.5 hours instead of 2. Some of that time was for the antinausea drug to drip in. Dave had no pain during the infusion, which was good, and the IV was placed easily. That's usually the case, he has good veins, but the MRI tech last week really messed up his left arm, but good.

Robin came by to pray with us before we went to the cancer center. That was a blessing. Janet prayed with me before I left work. We are so grateful for Robin and Janet who always have the right words to say to uplift and comfort us.

We're awaiting the nausea, it's 6:30...nothing yet. Dave says he's fine and won't be sick. Stranger things have happened.

Our house is falling apart. We have a beautiful new roof, but Kenny's window fell out last night. I mean the window just fell out. The whole thing.

Now we just pray the chemo is killing EVERY LAST ONE of the tumor cells.

Thanks for the prayers today. You should have seen Dave during the infusion, he had his headphones on, listening to Third Day, and his face was peaceful, serene.

Tuesday, October 5, 2004 6:01 PM CDT
We met with Dr. Sacks today. According to his interpretation of the films, Dave's MRI was not what we had hoped. The scan shows what Dr. Sacks and Dr. Moraldo think is new growth in the lower part of the frontal lobe. This is growth since the scan in July. It's too early to tell if the gamma knife is really working on the spots that were treated in August, but these findings indicate new growth beyond what was treated with gamma knife. It's diffuse growth that enhances, the word they used was "speckled" so the growths are not large, but there are many spread around. The enhancement means that these areas are composed of fast-growing cells. This is not good news.

There was one part of Dr. M's report that offered an alternative point of view, saying that it could be radiation necrosis (proliferation of dead cells from the gamma knife), but that it is much too soon for that. Dr. Sacks says that it's too soon to see results from gamma knife and that the findings represent disease progression. Well, perhaps all the prayers accelerated the gamma knife? That's what we'll keep praying for. We all know Dave is not typical in any way!!

We start BCNU on Thursday afternoon. Chemo is really the only way to attack this diffuse growth. Dave will take off Thursday and Friday, and hope to be well enough to go back to work on Monday. They said that this particular chemo causes a lot of nausea and vomiting, even with an anti-emetic like Zofran. Please pray that he will be able to tolerate the BCNU and that it will completely obliterate those tumor cells. Pray also for protection for his lungs, as BCNU causes pulmonary toxicity. Also for his veins, Dave has good veins, but BCNU causes hardening of the veins, and it's likely they'll have to put in a port at some point. Also for his blood counts, as BCNU is very hard on the bone marrow....we have to watch his white and red counts, and his immunity will be compromised. Lastly, BCNU causes leukemia to develop in years after treatment. Pray Dave will be spared this effect.

Thank you to all who have rallied around us. Dave is continuing with his very positive attitude, certain that the BCNU will be the thing to do the trick. I keep saying he's amazing, I just don't know another word that describes him so well. He truly is.

Friday, October 1, 2004 0:41 AM CDT
Dave had his MRI today, September 30. We get results on Tuesday. We're praying ferverently that the gamma knife is working. We'll also find out on the 5th when/how he'll start the new chemo.

Bob and crew have been roofing like mad. In two days, they tore off the old roof, put up tar paper and flashing and have about 1/2 the shingles done. They are amazing.

Thanks so much to our church family. I'm continually overwhelmed and humbled by how much support we have received.

Thanks beyond measure to Mom Judy and Dad Bob. Thanks also to: Bob Hull, Dan Burbank, Dale Johnson, Doug Hayes, Bill & Peggy Cox, Darlene & Harvey Wellington, Deborah Prior, Richard Greenwood, Skip Pritchard and Jason.

Thanks to Wendye Bren, the cookie lady, for your caring and your "neat rows" therapy!

Thanks to all who brought food for the roofers.. Jana Scudder, Peggy, Deborah, Darlene, Mindy, Judy and others I didn't get told about. Including the person who brought the scalloped potatoes!

Thanks for the folks that rallied around Zach to cheer him up after his broken arm. Kirsten Pribilsky, you are an answer to a prayer. Thanks Karen McDaniel, Alex Falcon, Mindy Meyer, Dale & Ginger Johnson, and Lynn Ferrell. Thanks to his teachers for caring. Thanks for the note, Steve Walk. Thanks for the help on the comforter, Nancy Klicker. Thanks for taking my carpool day, Alex. Thanks for listening, as always, Deb.

I know I'm missing people. If you read this and know of someone who helped on that old roof project that I missed, please let me know.

We are so very grateful. Words are inadequate.

Saturday, September 25, 2004 3:03 PM CDT
***NOTE*** NEW PHOTOS ON THE PHOTO PAGE!!!

Well, everyone says hang in there, and I'm trying, but not doing a very good job.

Zach is happy not to have to have surgery. His pain is responding to the meds, but maybe a little too well, because he overdoes it and we all pay the price in a few hours. Like last night he went to the WaHi game. big mistake. He was in agony later on. He's frustrated, and I'm exhausted. He can't do anything on his own, including bathe, go to the bathroom, eat, brush his teeth, etc. I'm up with him several times a night for bathroom trips, pillow adjustments and meds. Reminds me of when he was a baby, but I'm quite a few years older and not tolerating it too well.

Dave is experiencing all the headaches and fatigue they said he might. He said, "I hate it when the doctors are right." He slept in until almost 1:00 pm today, and that's unheard of. He's so tired, and in a lot of pain and is going to ask the doc for some meds. If you know Dave, that says something. He HATES meds. Maybe he and Zach can share vicodin. They say the effects of gamma knife can be felt for even a year afterwards. Let's hope not at this level!

His MRI is September 30, not October 5. October 5 is when he meets with the doc and gets MRI results and arranges the new chemo.

Kenny is also not coping well. He's had a run-in with the custodian, the principal, his math teacher and got kicked out of football practice. He is very smart-mouthed right now and defiant. "So?" and "Whatever" are favorite phrases.

Not that I'm one to talk. I'm certainly not handling all this gracefully. I'm short-tempered, irritable, overly sensitive and easily offended. I go back and forth between yelling and crying and can't seem to find a balance. Please pray for me in this area specifically if you can.

Oh yeah, and we just found out that we can't wait until next summer to replace our roof. It has to be done now. Thank God for Bob and Judy. Today they also fixed the valve on our hot water heater. We thought our washer was leaking, but it was the hot water heater. Whew, the valve was better than having to get a new washer.

Didn't I already say "uncle?"

Friday, September 24, 2004 5:47 PM CDT
FINALLY!!!!!

SOME GOOD NEWS!

We met with Dr. Hutson this morning, he examined the x-rays and said that Zach will not need surgery. Zach is quite relieved.

Dr. H said that it's easier to cast when the swelling goes down a little more, so Z will get his permanent (8 weeks) cast on Monday.

Today Zach said, "What about PE? What about my clarinet? No football....gee, all I'm gonna be able to do is WORK!" Poor kid. :-)

Thanks for the prayers. We were supposed to travel to the mountains this weekend, but looks like Zach isn't going to be up to it.

Thursday, September 23, 2004 2:45 PM CDT
Well, here's a new patient for you to pray for. Seems like when it rains, it pours, and we've been living in a hurricane for about a year.

Zach was carrying the football in a game in Pasco yesterday. He was tackled, and his left arm got mixed up in the wrong place. They called an ambulance, and he went to the hospital, and sure enough, it's broken. And broken pretty badly. Both bones are broken. We'll see an orthopedic surgeon to see if it needs surgery to have pins placed. The guy at Lourdes thought it probably would.

So Zach's football season is over. He's very sad, and worried about basketball. He'll be in a cast for 8 weeks.

He's also in a considerable amount of pain. They gave him vicodin, so he's resting pretty well right now.

For more photos, you can go to http://photos.yahoo.com/shibelle007 there are a few albums there.

On the Dave front, he has an MRI on October 5. Please pray that it shows the gamma knife is doing its job. He will meet with Dr. Sachs the same day as the MRI to arrange the BCNU chemo infusions. He'll probably start the next week.

Okay, I've had enough. Uncle. Mercy. Somebody toss me an umbrella.

Monday, September 20, 2004 5:33 PM CDT
Well, I talked to Dr. Friedman from Duke. He agrees with Dr. Spence. He feels like Dave is in good physical shape so he should try the BCNU before resorting to any clinical trials. I'm not sure how I feel about it all. I've been depressed since talking to Dr. Friedman, but maybe it's for the best. We're now checking with San Fransisco to see if they say anything different.

Dave is amazing. I talked to him just a bit ago, and he said, "OK then, here we go. I can do this." He's ready for battle. All I can do is cry. Evy might not use her mom's word, but I will. It's a pisser.

Friday, September 17, 2004 7:41 PM CDT
We met with Dr. Sacks yesterday. The options from UW don't look very good to us. Dr. Spence is recommending BCNU. BCNU is an IV chemo that has been around since 1972. It's not terribly effective IV, although it has shown some promise inserted into the tumor cavity at surgery in gliadel wafers. The side effects are many. First, all the classic chemo stuff, severe vomiting for hours after each dose, loss of hair and suppression of the bone marrow, meaning immune suppression. The usual dose is every six weeks, but due to the fact that Dave's been on chemo at such a high dose for so long, even though his counts have been good, Dr. Sacks doubts he'll be able to rebound very well, and every six weeks would be optimistic. The other side effect is pulmonary toxicity...basically, it causes infiltrating fibrous growths in the lungs and can lead to respiratory failure.

The other options are CCNU (an oral chemo) and PCV (an IV chemo), they all 3 have similar (dismal) success rates, and Dr. Sacks feels that the BCNU is the least toxic so that's where to start.

We're in the process of talking with Duke. They have some promising trials. Gleevec is a chemo that attaches to a genetic marker in certain tumors, Dave's could be tested to see if he's a responder. There is also a monoclonal antibody treatment which involves using the DNA of the tumor cells and injecting a radioactive substance that would specifically attack the tumor DNA. It is very experimental, but we know of some people who tested it in the early stages 4-5 years ago and are still around to tell the tale. It would also mean that Dave would be radioactive in North Carolina for 6 weeks in isolation. Not fun.

Guess we'll see if Dr. Friedman thinks Dave is a candidate for any of the newer treatments available at Duke.

Please pray for wisdom for Dr. Friedman, and pray he will have something to offer us.

You can read about the different treatments at www.virtualtrials.com

Tuesday, September 14, 2004 10:39 PM CDT
We heard from Dr. Spence at UW. I talked with him on the phone, brought him up-to-date, and he said he'd look into it and call our local guy. Dr. Sacks called, and we have an appointment on Thursday at 11:00 am to see what the recommendation is. We'll be seeking a second opinion from Duke. It seems that UW is not terribly aggressive in their approach, and Duke seems much more so. Luckily, our local doc is also supportive of a very aggressive approach, so we'll see what he has to say. It will be another week before we can get all the scans to Duke again for a second opinion. Luckily Dr. Friedman is very quick to call back. The Duke BT site is http://www.cancer.duke.edu/btc/ if you are interested in visiting. Please keep praying.

Please also pray for the families on the brain tumor list. We have lost 6 people to this horrible disease this month, and it's only the 14th, and two others are on the final parts of their journey. It's heartbreaking. Most of them are very young, with young families, a few are children. It makes us even more grateful for every day.

Love you all, Shelley

PS. Thank you to the lovely ladies who have been there beyond measure these last few weeks. I've had some wonderful lunches, and even more wonderful listening ears...thanks Janet, Laurie, Donna and Deb. I love you guys.

Friday, September 10, 2004 7:57 PM CDT
Hello all,
Finally heard from Dr. Spence at UW. Re-explained Dave's case to him. He is going to call Dr. Sacks with his recommendations. We will also be submitting Dave's scans and history to Duke for a second opinion again.

So finally things are moving.

Not much else to tell. Dave will probably be having an MRI in October. Don't know when yet.

Monday, August 30, 2004 11:05 AM CDT
Hello friends and family,
Thank you so much for your continued prayers. School has started and it's been quite a whirlwind at our house. Kenny is in 8th grade, Zach is in 7th and Kate is in 3rd. They are all really enjoying school and their teachers. Kenny & Kate are so happy to be back. Zach is a bit more reluctant. He has a killer schedule: Explorer Language Arts, Explorer Literature, Explorer Science, Algebra, Social Studies, Band, PE and an exploratory class called Money Matters. He's gonna have a ton of homework! And Algebra goes on his high school transcript...so that's a little nerve-wracking. The boys are both doing football, so we don't even see them until 5:15 pm. That's been hard to adjust to...for mom anyway. Kate starts jazz and ballet in 2 weeks.

Dave has been at work full time, and at football practice every day. He's been really tired the past 4 days, and having a lot more headaches. Pray for pain relief and he also asks for prayers that he doesn't have to go back on the steroids. He hates that stuff.

We're still waiting to hear from UW, and getting frustrated on that end. I'll make more calls today.

WaHi had the Blue vs. White scrimmage Saturday and we all went and had a lot of fun. It's great to be at football again! WaHi plays this weekend in the Qwest Seahawks stadium in the Emerald City Kickoff. We'll be playing a team from Olympia. Should be a fun weekend for all.

Thanks again for all your support and prayers. We read the guestbook every night before bed, and are so grateful to each of you!

Love, Shelley

Monday, August 23, 2004 11:57 PM CDT
MONDAY

Dave went to work today from 8 am to 3 pm and then football practice from 3-5 pm. He came home and looked great. His eyes are less puffy. He had a little headache, but it went away with tylenol. How strong is this guy, anyway?

He's icing his head and going to bed early.

We're still waiting to hear from Dr. Spence at UW. Guess I'll have to rattle some cages tomorrow.

KOKO (keep on keepin' on)
Love you all, Shelley

Monday, August 23, 2004 11:56 PM CDT
THE HISTORY

For those of you who don't know the full story of Dave's brain tumor saga....here's the copy I just submitted to virtualtrials.com There's more to add, but this is the basic story.

Dave Meyer�s Story

In 1996, my husband, Dave, was 33 years old with two small boys and a baby girl. He was a high school history teacher who coached football and basketball, working out with his teams and riding his bike to school. He was full of life and energy and love for everyone around him. His life motto has always been, �Use things, love people.� He had a few headaches, but attributed them to fatigue. He was considering visiting the doctor, because he noticed during basketball games he�d occasionally be overcome with a funny, surreal feeling and sounds were distorted. But before he could make that appointment, the world crashed in. He was driving to Portland with his brother, early in the morning, December 23, 1996. They hit a patch of ice and the van rolled 3 times. The state patrol called our home to say he�d been taken to the hospital. It took me over an hour to locate the right hospital. By that time, I was frantic, but when I finally talked with the ER nurse, she said, �Yep, they�re cracking the nurses up. Your brother needs a stitch over his eye, but that�s it. You can come get them!� �Whew,� I thought, �That was close!� Little did I know.

When I walked into his room, Dave said, �There�s something growing in my head.� I looked at the doctor and said, �Is he okay?� thinking Dave was one fry short of a happy meal. The doctor said, �Not really,� and popped a CT film over the lights. They had done the scan because his heartbeat was irregular and his eyes were unequally dilated. Even to my untrained eye, the tumor was huge, taking up fully a quarter of his head and pushing his brain to the side. �That has to come out,� I said. �You got that right,� said the doc. �If he hadn�t been in this accident, he�d have been dead in a month or two.� Who knew you could be grateful for car accidents?

So, we were off to the nearest neurosurgery center, which happened to be in our hometown, Walla Walla, WA. We saw the neurosurgeon that night and they did an MRI. They put Dave on decadron and dilantin and sent him home for Christmas.

Dave had surgery on January 6, 1997. There were 20 people in the waiting room, pulling for Dave, all with �sympathy bandages� on their heads. The doctors were unable to remove the entire tumor because it was wound around some major vessels and his optic nerve. The diagnosis was anaplastic astrocytoma grade 2-3. The neurosurgeon had said earlier that if it was �cancer� that it was probably a slow-growing variety, since the tumor had grown so large with so few symptoms. Even though they said cancer, we were feeling pretty confident that it was slow growing and all would be okay. Until I got to ICU. The nurse was a friend of Dave�s from high school and she was crying. She wouldn�t look me in the eye. I knew I didn�t have the full story. So back to the neurosurgeon I went. �Tell me the story again.� Finally, he asked if I was asking for numbers. I said, �Yes, I guess I am.� He said, �With treatment, 80% of the people with this type of cancer live 2-3 years.� My mind reeled. WHAT??? He has 3 small children who need him. This cannot happen. But I knew that Dave had never been at only 80% his entire life. He had to be in the group that lived, he just had to.

I told Dave about the diagnosis. He smiled his famous smile and said, �Get me out of this place. Hospitals are for sick people!� He went home after only 3 days of charming the nurses. A few weeks after that, he made a surprise appearance at a community concert: �Conspiracy of Hope.� This concert benefits a different charity each year, and Dave was instrumental in getting it started a few years before. He sang a song that he wrote for our son, Kenny, who has autism. It was wonderful, and the crowd went wild!

Dave had 33 sessions of radiation. Our entire community was praying for him, bringing us meals, helping with the driving and the kids, bringing meals and groceries to our home. He went back to work right after radiation began. Staff had donated enough time for Dave to take the entire year off, with pay, but he went back to work after only a few weeks. The radiation oncologist said, �Well, what�s the plan here?� And Dave replied, �We�re going to kick its butt!� His strength and attitude are inspiring.

Dave continued to have MRI�s every 3 months. After 6 months, the residual tumor began to shrink away. Pretty soon the scans were deemed �clean� and only taken every 6 months. Dave just continued doing all the things he�s so good at, teaching, coaching, singing and inspiring. He often said, �It ain�t nothin� but a thang. There�s a reason I�m still here.�

Dave�s tumor showed some growth 6.5 years later, March of 2004. After much consultation, he had another surgery, this time at the University of Washington. Then he began a regimen of high-dose temodar. He took this chemo for 21 days then rested for 7, as opposed to the usual take for 5, rest for 23. And right after he started chemo, we decided to take the kids to Disneyland. Kate came down with chicken pox the morning of our second day there. Isn�t that just typical? Oh well. Even then, Dave managed to smile.

Dave continued on the chemo for 14 months. During all this time, he continued to teach, coach, play music, and encourage hundreds of kids, especially his own three.

Just this last week (8/19/04), Dave was at UW again for gamma knife radiation to treat two tiny tumors that were found on his last scan. On his website, www.caringbridge.org/wa/davemeyer you can see his incredible smile as they screwed the frame into his head.

Today, he�s 41 and grateful for every day. He celebrates his survivor status by saying, �Well, sometimes you have to excuse me if I act like a kid�I�m only 7 and a half in my new life!�

When he first found out about his tumor he said, �My first goal is to be home for my baby girl�s first Christmas. My next goal is to dance at her wedding.� We all have no doubt�he�ll be there!

Saturday, August 21, 2004 9:52 PM CDT
SATURDAY

Hello all. Dave continues to do amazingly well. He went to football practice today. 9-12 and 2-5. It wasn't too hot today, only about 87, so that was a blessing.

He does have a lot of swelling on his forehead and puffiness around his eyes today. I think he's probably been on his feet too much. He's putting ice on it and resting now.

Thanks for all your continued prayers and support. Dave says he can definitely feel it. He says he feels lifted up. I say, okay, as long as Jesus doesn't lift you ALL the way up. :-)

Friday, August 20, 2004 11:36 PM CDT
FRIDAY NIGHT

TO CHECK FOR NEWS ABOUT THE GAMMA KNIFE, SEE JOURNAL HISTORY

TO SEE PICTURES OF THE GAMMA KNIFE, SEE PHOTO ALBUM

We're home now. Dave was sooo glad to see the kids. He looks really great. He's been on the phone non-stop since he got home.

He's planning on going to football practice tomorrow. They have daily doubles in 100 degree heat, from 9-noon and again from 2-5 pm. He's amazing.

Forgot to tell you all that he wore his Walla Walla Blue Devil Football shirt that says "COUNT ON ME" like he did for both surgeries.

The picture on the front page is a picture of Dave playing guitar at Erik & Evy's house last night. He stayed up way too late singing and playing with Erik, but as he says, "It was good for my soul." He was so happy to be with Erik again and to play music.

Sonja and Canute, Evy & Erik's two children, were also a trip highlight. Canute sang along with Dave a number of times, and Dave danced the Charlie Brown dance while Canute played Charlie Brown's theme song. Sonja played and sang as well, and watched the Olympics with me. It was a very special time, and seeing them, as well as Peter and Mark, made us miss living near Seattle, it's easy when it's not raining!!

Thanks for all your support. Thanks to Denise for sitting with me yet again, and always being there when I need her. And to the grandparents for watching the children. And to Peter for a lovely post-GK dinner!

Please continue to pray that over the next 4-6 weeks, the radiation will do its job and as Diane Phillips says, "annihilate that annoying sucker!"

Love, Michelle

Thursday, August 19, 2004 9:03 PM CDT
THIRD THURSDAY UPDATE -- CHECK JOURNAL HISTORY FOR PREVIOUS UPDATES

Hi everyone, it's 7:00 and we're back at Erik and Evy's house. Dave came through the procedure remarkably well. He did have a pain pill after they took the frame off his head. He's been icing it, trying to prevent swelling where they screwed the pins in.

Right now, he's sitting with Erik and playing Erik's guitar. It's wonderful to hear him play and sing. He has an incredibly happy heart. It's amazing to see the affect Dave has on people. The nurses at the hospital just love him. His generous spirit touches all those around him. He even helped Denise and I finish the last answer on the crossword puzzle!

Now we wait. They said that we could expect headaches, fatigue and nausea in about 4-6 weeks. That's when the tumor cells will begin dying off. They'll do an MRI around that time frame to see what's happening. They did say that if other small tumors do pop up, they can use the gamma knife again. This is good news, although we're praying REALLY hard that we NEVER have to do that.

Meantime, we'll be blasting it with a new chemo. Hopefully we'll find out very soon what that will be.

Dave has certainly felt your prayers and support today. He said that after they put in all the lidocaine (which was pretty ouchy) and were beginning to place the first screw, he felt overwhelmed with anxiety. Suddenly, he felt a sense of deep peace wash over him and he was completely calm.

I've got to get some sleep. Thank you to everyone, please continue to lift Dave up in your prayers for healing. Thank you to the prayer warriors who met at church today. Thank you to Denise for sitting with me. Thank you Peter, for making us laugh. Thanks to Mark for your hugs. Thanks to Janet for "McDonalds" money. Thanks to Erik, Evy, Canute and Sonja for opening your home to us.

Love, Shelley

Thursday, August 19, 2004 1:02 PM CDT
It's 10:00 am. Dave is in the machine, receiving the radiation right now. He is listening to Switchfoot, Audio Adrenaline & Relient K. He'll be in the machine for one session of 62 minutes and then a second session of 24(?) minutes.

The MRI did not have good news for us. The lesion that they had seen before has grown since July 19. They also noted several other areas of growth. One area that was significant is in the motor area. These other new lesions are very small, but they feel they represent true growth, not just an abnormality of the scan. The good news is that they can treat these lesions as well, so they are going to treat all the tumor growth that is visible.

We'll need to meet with Dr. Spence at UW about a new chemo regimen to take care of the cells that are growing, but are not yet visible on the MRI.

It's very scary news. Please keep praying. Dave is holding up well, and taking strength from all of you.

Love to all. Michelle

Thursday, August 19, 2004 12:05 AM CDT
Hello, we're at the hospital now. Dave has had the frame placed without any medication at all. He's feeling very tough and macho about that! He had a snack (thanks Evy!) and will be going into the machine about 10:30.

Thank you all for your prayers. He's really feeling the support, says he's feeling a great sense of peace.

Will update you on the progress as we go.

Denise and I have almost finished the jigsaw puzzle!

Love you all!

Tuesday, August 17, 2004 1:13 PM CDT
We met with doctors at Harborview yesterday. Dave has a new growth in his right frontal lobe. This new growth is very small, but it was not evident at his MRI in May, and shows on the MRI in July. It's quite scary that it has grown so quickly, and is in a new place. It's also scary that it grew while Dave was on temodar (chemo).

The doctors from the tumor board are recommending gamma knife. Gamma knife is high intensity radiation that is very accurate and focused on the tumor growth. There are 201 beams aimed at the tumor. (See the main page for a link to information about gamma knife, you have to scroll to the bottom.)

On Thursday, August 19, 2004, Dave will undergo gamma knife at Harborview in Seattle. We are hoping that this will halt the growth of the tumor.

He will go into the hospital at 7:00 am and they will place a halo or frame around his head, by screwing it into his skull (ouch! They will give him some IV pain meds). They took x-rays yesterday to determine the exact placement, because they want to avoid the area of his past surgeries, because this area is vulnerable to fracture.

Then they will do an MRI to determine the exact area of the tumor. Then they meet to plan the radiation exactly. Then Dave will be placed into the gamma knife machine. Depending on the shape and size and complexity of the growth, he will receive 1-4 "shots" of radiation, each consisting of 201 beams. They say this takes 1-3 hours.

The first MRI after radiation typically looks worse than before because of the swelling. The radiation will ruin the DNA of the tumor cells so it cannot multiply. So we won't know for 3-6 months how well this worked.

Most people tolerate the procedure pretty well, with minimal headaches and nausea. It can induce seizures, however, so they want him to stay in Seattle on Friday. Long term, there are two scary things. One: Dave has a large blind spot in his left eye, a result of the last surgery in June 2003. This gamma knife procedure could possibly damage the vision in his right eye. If that happens, he won't be able to drive. As you can imagine, he's not too keen on that happening.

Another danger is that since Dave has had radiation previously, he has about a 15 percent chance of developing radiation necrosis, which is proliferation of dead cells. This can cause the same problems the tumor does and would have to be removed via another surgery.

We will also have to meet with the neuro-oncologist in Seattle, because the temodar is obviously not working, and we need to decide what route to take.

So, please, please, pray for Dave on Thursday, pray for the doctors, too. Pray for God to heal him of this new tumor completely.

Monday, August 2, 2004 3:39 PM CDT
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