Rest in Peace

I am deeply saddened at the death of Patrick Swayze. My beloved Pastor George died of pancreatic cancer shorty before Swayze was diagnosed. It is a horrible form of the disease, and one of the deadliest. I can still hear an oncologist telling me "you know there is no cure for that" when I mentioned my pastor's illness.

No cure. Those are harsh words. As I write this a dear co-worker is going through a similar situation with her father. A fairly young man in good health he felt a bit under the weather one day and went to the doctor. He was given 2-3 weeks to live. He is now in the hospital on morphine and unresponsive. Two short weeks.

Cancer. It is a scary word. Probably the most frightening one anyone can hear. There are so many types, many of which are curable, but a few that are not. I am thinking of all the loved ones I have lost to that word. Too many.

God bless us all.

Priorities

This past week has been a crazy one here; major wildfires in the hills surrounding my area. the media seemed to ignore it for the first few days - whatever happened to "breaking news?" Oh, well, I thought, maybe there are more important things to cover. After all, news to one person is just everyday life to another. After a few days the coverage was everywhere. Of course, it was about as fresh as a three-day-old sandwich. Well, I had friends who lived at the edge of the fires; they were keeping me updated, what did I need the 'net or TV for? Radio was doing a decent job. Sort of.

Then Thursday came. trying to watch TV was difficult as helicopters buzzed around outside. Had the fire surged again? Was the freeway jammed? Had there been a wreck? No. Michael Jackson was finally being buried. Isn't it sad what things people find important? Isn't it sadder what things the media chooses to tell us in the first place?

Or is it just plain scary? The fire was - and is - a life-threatening matter. Michael Jackson's life is over. The only thing depending on his funeral was, well, nothing.

Think about it.

All That Jazz

Had a nice time at the Hollywood Bowl last night. A dear friend invited us to go with her to hear some jazz. It isn't my kind of jazz - I prefer New Orleans style - but some of it was wonderful. The best part was enjoying a night out with my husband and my friend on a balmy Southern California evening. It stayed quite warm throughout the night, but the sheer joy of being outside under the stars was not to be beat.

Heart Surgery

Well, if there is any place that tests your faith, it is the waiting room in a hospital where your spouse is undergoing open-heart surgery. What seems like endless days is in reality only a few hours. It does drag on, especially when word is sent that they are about to close - if everything looks ok. But - and that is a huge word - just in case it doesn't look good enough, then another procedure will follow and it will be a couple more hours. So you wait the 20 minutes that they first tell you, then another, and another, and another. After the first hour you know something isn't right, but you stay calm. After all, everyone prayed the minute you found out there might be a problem. Everything is going to be ok.

And it is.

You're told that your spouse won't wake up for hours, but you have to see them, just to make sure that they are still breathing. Steeled for the horrific sight of tubes and machines, you silently walk into the ICU expecting them to look as if they are dead (as one friend warned you) and are told that they are already awake. Looking far better than anyone should at this point you praise God for his healing and you smile. Your faith has gotten you through. God is good.

Good Times

Been having some great time at the Disney Resort this year. First got to go for free on my birthday - and they dedicated all of Disneyland to me! It was great fun! Then I got to back another day to California Adventure - they had given me a two-fer ticket! And in May, back to Disneyland for my job - and got paid to go! Wow! This is my Year of Disney!

Here We Go Again

Well, our medical group decided to change cardiologists so John now has a new cardiologist. This one is gung ho on doing preventive work - which means he wants to have John's mitral valve repaired now and not later. Trouble is, he isn't the one who would undergo open heart. This doctor is used to running things over at Cedars-Sinai where they do this sort of thing less invasively. Welcome to St. Josephs. Here they are still into cutting open the chest. Nasty piece of work. Well, another thing for God to handle for us.

Zoo Membership

Well, last December John and I decided to join the LA Zoo. It has been wonderful. We go about every two weeks. It's good exercise to walk the hills, and great excercise for the soul to be outside and with the animals. I'm in love with the little meerkat, John adores the hippo (Otis) and the little koalas are just so cute. I have taken hundreds of photos - digital, thank God. It really is a great place to go. My feet get really tired and sore, though. :-)

Pastor Abe

Pastor Abe has been settling in to the job quite well. Although Abe has preached all of his life, he has only been a pastor for a short time. I was a bit concerned, but things are going well. Last Sunday we had a wonderful worship service. Even though we had a few members missing, it seemed as if the Sanctuary was filled. And I believe it was, with the Holy Spirit. How good it is to have Church again, and not simply go through the motions.

Hallelujah!!

Well, finally we have turned the corner - at least according to the cardiologist. John is pretty much back to normal, and even a little bit better, and thinner. God has taken care of us, and gotten us through what was basically 7 months of hell. Don't want to go through that again.

Life Goes On

Our Pastor went home to be with the Lord on January 24th. The congregation is drawing closer together and closer to God. Death truly is a part of life and when one passes the rest must go on. Rather than mourn we must now rejoice. George is with the Lord and healed. It just is not the way we would have chosen.

God is still good. All the time.

From the Frying Pan Into the Fire

Boy, can things get worse, or what? Since my last posting my husband went to the ER and was admitted to the hospital. Atrial Fibrulation (erratic heartbeat) and Congestive Heart Failure. The end result of 24 weeks of Peg-Interferon/Ribavirin treatment.

Two weeks have passed and there is only slight improvement. John can barely do anything without becoming short of breath. His medications have been totally changed, and he is now relying on sleeping pills at night. It isn't much of a life, but we grasp at every tiny bit of improvement.

We did have one really good day when we took an out-of-town guest and went to the Zoo. We also managed to see a movie. And we did go to Knott's Berry Farm courtesy of my job, though we barely saw anything more than the Mystery Lodge show. At least we were able to do something. His doctors say he is doing well, but he sure doesn't seem to feel well.

Making matters worse, our sweet Pastor died last Thursday. It was expected, but still a shock. Pastor George wasn't very old; in his early 60's. There is now a big gap in our lives. God rest his soul.

End of One Journey, Beginning of Another

Well, 2008 is over. The long journey of treatment for John is over. Maybe. The effects of all the drugs they gave him are still weighing heavy on his body. Since my last posting much has happened.

We made it through the 24 weeks. John had a small resurgence of life, then his blood count went down, the weekly Neupogen shots went in, and life disappeared again. The aches and pains grew worse, breathing problems surfaced. A good night's sleep was hard to come by. The final weeks were the worst. It was all John could do to keep going; much of the time he didn't. He spent hours - days - doing nothing but sitting in bed. It's gotten so bad that he can barely walk 10 feet without having to rest.

So this is what the treatment has done. I wonder, is it worth it to eradicate the Hep C virus if at the end you have no strength to enjoy it? Is is worth it if your marriage is in shreds? My advice to anyone facing the decision to have the treatment or not is to run. Run like hell. Enjoy your life. This Interferon will rob you of what little you have.

Three weeks have passed since the last Neupogen; two since the last Interferon. He took the final Ribivirin pills a week ago. There is no change. He seems as bad now as he was during the treatment. He tells me the pain is better, but his actions do not show it. I use the term actions reservedly. He does very little. He goes to work, but I'm not sure how much he does other than sit and fret. At home he does nothing but sit. He rarely turns on his computer. Playing either the piano or synthesizer is out of the question. Forget about petting the dog, or rubbing the cat. Even hugging the wife is pretty much obliterated.

We can only pray that someday the effects of this stuff wear off and that there is no permanent damage done to John's body. When asked if he would re-do the treatment in case the Hep returns his answer: NO. Too bad that wasn't the answer before. This is one of those "cure is worse than the disease" times.

I know that God is taking care of us, and I believe - I have to - that He will make things better in the long run. But the long run is a very hard and long one.

Loosing mama at the begining of 2007 was hard; going through the legal matters involving probate was harder. Dealing with Pastor's illness, and then his wife's was horrible. But dealing with what has happened to my husband is the worst. It sometimes feels as if I am not married, as if my husband has left and someone else is sitting in his seat and sleeping on his side of the bed. As I said, I believe God will take care of everything, but that does not make it easier in the middle of the night when I feel alone. It does not help as I look at the future and see endless days of going nowhere and doing nothing. It does not help when I want to be held and loved and there is no one there to do so. But He will get me through, just as He has the past 25 weeks.

God is good.

God's Love

Much has happened in the time since my last posting. Our pastor was diagnosed with inoperable pancreatic cancer. Our congregation is praying for God's will, whatever that may be. Another of those times that test our faith, and stir our soul.

The worship services have not turned sad and melancholy - in fact they have been more worshipful than ever. We are truly connected. When Pastor walked back in to the Sanctuary for the first time after getting out of the hospital - it was as if the Spirit of God blew a breath of comforting air through the room.

Hard time either make us or break us, they also show us quite distinctly, God's love. His love goes beyond our circumstances, and is constant - no matter what. If I did not have God's love then I would not want to continue with life, but because of His love, I not only want to continue, I have hope that it will get better.

Tested Faith

It seems like all I do is complain. Guess that's part of the depression. Depression is a side-effect of my husband's Hep C treatment. What they don't tell you is that the spouse suffers all the same side-effects. Yes, even some of the physical ones. When you have a true marriage, then you do become one, as some put it, which means that you both share just about every experience. Oh, I realize that some of it is akin to sympathy pains, but trust me, they hurt every bit as much.

Right now it is the depression I am dealing with. It is so hard to continue what passes as normal life when you feel sorry for yourself, and you feel totally alone. I finally realized that much of my depression is from loneliness. Oh, John is physically present, but mentally and emotionally there is no one there. I had hoped that getting him off of so much sedative meds would help, but it was short lived.

An example: last night over dinner I mentioned that next week we were scheduled to see a movie - we've been trying to go every other week just to keep us from being "prisoners". His answer, "I'm shaky". Boom - my depression hit. His answer showed where his mind is - on his own condition. He really wasn't commenting on what I said; I doubt he even heard what I said, just that I made some noise.

I know that what John is going through is rough - I know he feels horrible much of the time, but by obsessing on every little thing, much of which is normal, he is making himself feel worse. And he is making me crazy. Yesterday he saw our regular doctor. She is an Internist. Dr. Adelman was so surprised that John looked so good - his eyes clear and bright, skin color normal. She was delighted with how well the treatment is going. His reaction? He "felt terrible" and could barely walk across the street to confirm his appointment next week with the cardiologist. (However, when we went to have his blood tested he sprang from his seat and practically sprinted to the lab.)

Amazing, isn't it? Our attitude really does go a long way in determining how we feel. If we decide that we feel like crud, then we feel like crud. If we say, "I feel good", then the aches and pains really don't hurt as much.

I can empathize with Jesus, the way he felt in the garden. The other night as I lay in bed, John two feet from me, yet quite distant, I suddenly had a vision of Jesus crying out to God in the garden, lonely, scared, worried, with his dearest friends just a few feet away. Sound asleep and oblivious to how He felt. I know that God is with me, just as Jesus knew that the Father was with Him. And yet . . . the human in all of us still feels sad and lonely.

This is not just a treatment that John and I are going through. Like with Job, this is a test of our faith. I pray we pass it.

Finally, Good News

The blood test results are in - the virus is undetectable! That means the treatment is working and John will be cured of this nasty Hepatitis C! Thank God. If we had to go through all this hell for nothing, well, it would not be a good thing. Knowing it is working helps, a little. It's still rough in the middle of the night, and the physical and emotional pain is still there, but at least we know it is not for nothing.
I am so glad that all the suffering that John is currently going through will at least have a good outcome. To see him hurting, or so tired he can hardly lift his head is rough, and we have almost five more months to go, but we can at least see that there is light at the end of this dark tunnel. Cured. What a wonderful word. What a miracle. What a God thing. Hallelujah!

another thing

Do you remember the old Saturday Night Live sketches with Roseanne Rosannadanna? I loved her spots, Gilda Radner was a master of comedy. Her tag line for these sketches was "if it ain't one thing, it's another". Well, it's another thing. While John and I are enjoying a renewed life, our Pastor is facing cancer surgery. George is one of those people who look big and mean, yet are truly a teddy bear. He is one of the sweetest, most caring individuals I've ever met. And he internalizes everything.

Well, at least God didn't make us go through both things at once. But like Roseanne, or rather her father, always used to say, "if it ain't one thing, it's another."

Another opportunity for prayer, and a chance to strengthen our faith.

What a Difference a Day Makes

Yesterday morning I felt as if my life was over, this morning I felt like I had a chance at living again. Amazing what a little "meltdown" can do for a person. It seems like there will be hills and valleys while John is going through this treatment. The problem is, the valleys are deeper than crap, while the hills are about ant sized. :-)

Ok, enough self-pity for this week (I'm being honest). I truly love my husband and wouldn't trade him in for anyone else. I've actually had an actor that I had a crush on in my teen years in my office. Inches away from me, smiling at me. And all I could think about was John. Isn't it amazing. When I get into those nasty dark depressions, I need to remember that. I think that I have discovered it isn't my faith in God that will get me through this - that is unwavering and would be with me even if John and I weren't together. What will enable me to stick this out is my love for John. We are doing this so that John will have a longer life without the shadow of Hepatitis C hovering over him. Sometimes you have to go throught what seems like hell to reach heaven.

Well, John is worth that journey.

Always Darkest Before the Dawn

Well, we have good days, and we have bad days. Then we have worse days. Last week sucked. We both feel as if we are prisoners to this stuff. I figure they call it Interferon because it interferes with your life. Even a mundane task like going to the grocery store is difficult. Going anywhere is difficult.

I have cabin fever. John could probably go for weeks without going anywhere (except church) but I can't. I have a form of agoraphobia. If I stay home for too long, then I won't go anywhere. Make that, can't go anywhere. I become so afraid of getting out of my little cocoon that I can't do it. Fortunately I work. That gets me out every weekday. Heaven forbid I stay home even a single day due to sickness. I'm afraid that will all that's going on I won't go back to work. And I like my job. But right now I feel trapped. Work, home, work, home, church, work, home. An endless cycle.

Well, only 21 weeks more.

Lord, help me.

Surviving

Well, this week has been much better, though my poor John had to take one day off of work because he was so exhausted. We've been trying to go on with life as normal, but once in a while it just catches up. At least this Saturday we have no errands to run, or chores to do, or anything else. I'm planning to take it easy myself and maybe just sleep. We both need more of that.

Golly, week three is almost over.

To the Edge of Hell

Last night was the second injection; what a difference. John slept through the night. He woke up with a headache and the achy feeling, but nothing like before. We can probably handle this. I doubt it will get any worse now. The long-term effects will be monitored by the doctor and can be treated. Anemia is the one they worry most about. And he may not experience that. If the week follows it's course, he will feel a little beter each day until Wenesday or Thursday he is almost normal. Fridays will be good, until injection time. Life will go on, and with the Lord's help, it will not be so bad.