Mom at the Mitchell Park Domes with grandchild #4 (Eliana) and #3 (Conrad).

Today our Christmas wish has been granted.

We saw the scans of Mom's brain before the radiation and after. The tumors that were once significant in size and number have either shrunk out of existence or are drastically reduced to pitiful little stumps that hopefully have lost their blood supply due to their radiated blood vessels. The scans of Mom's esophagus continue to show improvement in that the "thickening" that was caused by the cancer and the scar tissue continues to slim. At this time, the tests do not reveal any cancerous areas in her lungs, liver, or abdominal region in general.

Both Mom's radiologist and oncologist agree that we could not have hoped for better test results. Moreover, they said that her overall health is an encouraging sign and reason to remain hopeful. At this point, the doctors' orders are to continue eating well, exercising, and report any symptoms. Mom will not undergo any additional treatment at this time because there is nothing to actively treat. She has another set of tests scheduled for the end of March.

We should be aware, however, that the chance of recurrence is high. It is possible that the tumors that remain in her brain could start to grow again. Or, new disease could emerge, anywhere. We need to keep a close eye on it by paying careful attention to any symptoms and through regular tests. If or when the cancer rears its ugly head, we will have treatment options. Chemotherapy, which is normally not an option for brain tumors because of the brain blood barrier, may be effective in the future because the radiation has likely weakened this barrier. Radiation will remain a powerful tool, as well. Her radiologist said that if tumors start to grow again in her brain they will likely not be so widespread so the radiation therapy would be more targeted. While this discussion does not sound optimistic, to us it is extremely comforting to know that treatment will be available.

While most of my talk today revolves around the medical treatment that my mom has received, I truly believe that there is much more at play here. I have not figured out this spiritual journey that we are all on. But, I am getting closer everyday. One thing I am certain of is that it is not Mom's time to move on. Not now. So, we will continue loving each other and living our lives, being thankful for every moment we are together.

Today as I was sitting in the parking lot at church waiting for my dad to drop Mom off, I saw the most joyful sight—Mom driving herself to church!

I will never forget watching that little Fiat pulling though the parking lot and realizing that it was not my dad, but my mom at the wheel. She drove like she always has, like a woman on a mission. And today her mission was illuminated by a cheerful pink scarf.

It sounds like such a simple thing. But, I cannot describe the joy that this picture brought to my spirit. In fact, I got out of my car, starting jumping around the parking lot and throwing fists into the air. "Yeah, Mom! You Go, Mom!! Woooo Hoooo!!!"

My mother is the most independent, active woman that I have ever known. She has been known to say goodbye to my dad at sunrise and not come back until the sun sets. But, for the past three months, Mom has not driven anywhere. She has had to depend on her family and friends for transportation everywhere. And not once have I heard her complain about this loss of independence. The only thing she has said is that she "feels bad" that Dad has to take her everywhere.

On Tuesday Mom will have her CT and MRI tests run. On Thursday we will meet with her doctors and they will tell us what they find. We don't know what the tests will reveal or how the doctors will respond. But, one thing is certain. Today, December 16, 2012, Marguerite Conrad drove herself to church. And that fact couldn't have made her daughter happier.

Mom continues to be feeling pretty well. She has been completely off the steroids for a little over two weeks and she is not experiencing any new or returning symptoms. Once in a while she feels a slight pain in her head. But, considering that she underwent full brain radiation, that is not surprising. Lack of appetite and a tendency to tire more easily remain part of her daily experience. Nevertheless, she is maintaining her weight and has enough stamina to enjoy her many activities including lunch dates with friends, going to church, shopping, movies, and even yoga and aerobics.

Now that we are into December, we are counting down the days to her next set of tests. On December 18th they will be running a CT scan on her chest and abdominal region and an MRI to determine how the tumors in the brain have responded to the radiation. On December 20th we meet with her oncologist and radiologist to discuss the results of the tests and next steps.

Many people tell me that they are very inspired by my positive attitude. But, I have to admit, as the 20th draws nearer, my anxiety levels are rising. Although my daily experience tells me that Mom's condition has improved dramatically in the past two months, part of me is afraid. We have finally settled into our "new normal" around here. We are enjoying our lives and want to keep this momentum going. In fact, I decided the other day that I would be content in this state of waiting for next fifteen years. I suppose this is what everyone who lives with cancer wishes could happen.

I know that this probably goes without saying, but I ask all of you, as we move closer into this holiday season and closer to December 20th, please keep my mom in your prayers. I would also appreciate a prayer for my family to give us strength so that we can be everything that Mom needs, now and always.

Below is a recent picture that Alicia took of Mom at Barnes and Noble. Doesn't she look wonderful!!

As I sat with Mom tonight after work in her living room I asked Mom how she is doing. This may seem odd, as I should know how she is doing because I see her every day. But, I figure that it is always good to straight to the source, in case there is anything that I am missing.

She said that she feels pretty good. Tired, at times, but good. I asked her about her feet. She picked up "the bad foot" and wriggled it all over. This was something that she was not able to do eight weeks ago due to the brain tumors and edema. Heck, she couldn't even walk. Now she is walking Lucy with my dad, participating in her aerobics class, and walking two miles every day in her living room with her walking video.

Food is still an issue in so far that it is just not appealing. But, Mom is maintaining her weight, which is an absolute incredible feat. In fact, Mom weighs the same as she did last January when she was first diagnosed with esophageal cancer!

Another positive is that Mom is now completely weaned off of the steroids. She has been down to 1/2 a pill every other day for about a week now and she is not experiencing a return in symptoms. As I have said before, I am not a doctor, but I don't think I need to be to know that this is a good sign.

One thing has been weighing heavily on our minds. What happens next? We know that Mom has scans scheduled toward the end of December. But, we really have no idea what the course of treatment will be after we get the results back. So, tomorrow I am going to call Helen (our go-to nurse) and ask her what we might expect in the coming weeks.

One thing is for certain. We know what we are experiencing right now. Life. And, we couldn't be more grateful.

The following post has been sitting in my "Drafts" folder for weeks. It is a bit old, and unfinished. But, there are many important things to share. And, since my Mom's newest motto is "Nothing is 100%", I am just going to let this one fly as is. Enjoy!

So many wonderful things have happened since my last post. I am not going to remember all of them at one sitting. But, I will share with you the ones that first come to mind.

Mom was so completely surprised when she received an envelope from a friend of days gone by. Gloria and Mom were friends in Longfellow grade and junior high school in La Crosse, WI. Mom said that she hasn't seen or spoken to Gloria since she was a teen. Recently, Gloria found this blog and wanted to share her support. She mailed mom a FROG (fully relying on God) card, pictures from their school days, pictures of Gloria's beautiful family, and a very touching letter. When Mom received these gifts, she kept repeating, "I can't believe this! I just can't believe this!!" Thank you so very much, Gloria. We are thinking of you and are comforted by your presence on this journey.

Mom received another surprise when she answered her phone in the early hours on Friday. Gonzalo, who was a former student of Mom's and nephew through marriage, called from Panama! After her phone call, Mom texted me right away. "Got a call from Gonzalo!!!" She was so excited to have talked with him, as they haven't seen each other in years. Gonzalo has been following this blog and I have been in touch with him on Facebook over the past year. He told me that when he read the post I had written that said "No Cancer!" Gonzalo grabbed a group of friends and went out to celebrate. When his friends asked him what they were celebrating, he replied simply, "Life."

On Friday my Mom and Dad celebrate their 49th wedding anniversary with Aunt Karen and Uncle Roger. The foursome went out for Chicago style pizza. For as long as I can remember, Aunt Karen and Uncle Roger have been a constant source of love and support in our lives. Now, with this cancer, my aunt and uncle remain as steadfast as always. Although they live an hour and a half away, it feels as if they are right here. They are always making the effort to come for a visit and calling to see how we are doing. We are so very lucky to have them now, and as always.

Today I want to share with you "The Miracle of the Spilled Milk." My hope is that someday when you need it you can apply this lesson in your own life. And, you won't even have to spill a glass of milk to set the miracle in motion!

During my mom's hospital stay (yes, I am still ruminating on this experience. But this isn't bad. I promise.) I came home one afternoon to try to get some much needed sleep. My efforts were futile. I was not able to sleep. Nor was I able to eat or do much of anything. My body and soul were paralyzed in shock and grief. Because of my inability to tend to my basic needs (I had not slept in more than 30 hours and my last meal was a bag of peanut M&Ms the night before), I was getting extremely weak. The only thing I knew was that I had to get back up to Milwaukee to be with Mom. And, in order to get enough strength, I had to eat something. Anything.

I tried cereal. But, I couldn't stomach that. I can't remember what else I tried. But, there was something else, I think. Finally, I decided that I could probably drink a glass of milk. So, I poured myself a glass. After a couple of sips, I placed the glass of milk on a T.V. tray.  And, as luck would have it, it spilled -- all over the T.V. tray. All over the floor. And, all over the T.V. controller.

Now, this is going to sound really crazy. But, as I sat there looking at the milk, I actually considered just leaving it. I was that drained. I figured that Charlie would clean it up when he got home. Or, the dogs would lick it up. Nothing mattered. I really didn't care.

Here is where the miracle came in. Something inside of me said, "Don't leave the milk. You have to clean it up."

Now, I don't know if you have ever realized this. But, when you are cleaning up a big mess, your mind is focused on the mess. You are not thinking about taking the kids to soccer practice, a conversation at the office, or, in my case, that the cancer we hoped was gone had metastasized to my mom's brain. For those few minutes, my mind was given a break from the horror that was consuming me. And when I finished the job, I felt better. I don't know if it was the slight physical activity that improved my state. Or, the brief respite from the pain. But, I actually felt better. Moreover, I immediately attributed the improvement to the simple act of cleaning up the spilled milk.

This realization inspired me just enough to formulate a plan. If I could drink some milk, I could drink an energy shake. I also knew that the more I did, the better I would feel. So, I pulled myself together, drove to the store, bought some Ensure, and was on my way back to Milwaukee. This may seem trivial. But, to me it was nothing short of miraculous. Not only did the spilled milk give me enough strength to get off the couch, it ultimately brought me  to where I was most needed — at my mom's side.

So, here is the lesson. If you are ever feeling so low that you don't think you can go on, do something. Do anything. Move your body. The slightest change can make just enough difference so that you can move on to the next step.

PS: Before I left for home that day, Mom had been sleeping well, ate a great breakfast, and was preparing to polish off a lunch of turkey, mashed potatoes, and gravy. If she isn't an inspiration, I don't know what is!

This is not going to be a pleasant post. Don't worry. Mom is doing fine today. There are no changes in her health. But, if you are not in the mood to read about deep-seeded fear and anger, then I suggest you skip this one. (I will try to write an uplifting post next!)

When I was a teenager, I worked as a cashier at Hardees, the fast food chain. One night I had a terrible dream. A dream that I have never forgotten and doubt I ever will. It went like this:

Nightmare One

I was alone, standing behind the counter at Hardees and prepared to take the next order. A man walked up to my register. He pulled out a gun and very calmly told me that I was going to die. He said, "It will go like this. I will count to three. One, two, three. Bang. Ready?" He proceeded to count. "One. Two. Three." And I awoke.

Tonight, for probably the millionth time, I was damning the hospital doctor for "giving my mom 6 months to live." I do not believe that the doctor's prognosis is correct. But, I do believe that this practice is very harmful. It is beyond harmful. It is destructive. And, it was my nightmare come to life.

Nightmare Two

I was sitting beside my mother's hospital bed. The doctor came in. A man that we had never seen before, but a face that I will never forget. Very calmly he said, "The tumors are extensive. You will die from this. With treatment you can expect to live 6 months to a year. We will treat you to extend your life. Then we will manage your pain." About the only thing he left off was the, "Ready? One. Two. Three..."

Every day since that doctor (or gunman depending on how you want to look at it) said those words, I have been rewriting this story in my head. I replace his "6 months" with the "fourteen years" of another patient that Mom's oncologist told us about. His, "We will treat you to extend your life" is replaced by Mom's oncologist's hope that "the radiation may eradicate the tumors". I read everything I can about holistic approaches to healing and encourage Mom to incorporate them in her battle plan. More than anything, I live for today.

You may wonder why I chose to share this with you. Honestly, I do not want to haunt anyone with these words. I just want to release this nightmare. I figure if I can just get it out, maybe it will be gone forever. Also, I think that someday another person who is on this same journey may come upon this post and take comfort in knowing they he or she is not alone. If you can rewrite the story and live for today, you can keep those demons at bay. Oh, and fuck all of the doctors who spew out their unwanted prognoses. You better check in with God the next time you count someone out of this race!

This past weekend we had a wonderful visit with Mom's brother and his wife, Jim and Sonia!

Uncle Jim and Aunt Sonia (as I call them) flew in from California Friday afternoon. Because I had a date with my 8-year-old son at his school Halloween party, I was not able to join them for dinner at the Twisted Cuisine. However, I heard that the food was good and I know that Mom was so happy to have them here.

On Saturday morning, Mom, Dad, Uncle Jim, and Aunt Sonia went to a craft fair at Bradford High School. They came home with a bunch of goodies, including T-shirts for Craig and Nina (my cousin) that say "Bike Naked", a Green Bay Packer outfit for Eliana's doll, and an advent calendar for Nina's dog that holds milkbone biscuits. (It is the cutest thing!) That afternoon we sat around talking. It was so fun to hear the many stories about Uncle Jim and Aunt Sonia's grandson Bug. (His actual name is Ryan, but he goes by "Bug" for now.) Then, we
all went out for legendary Kenosha pizza!

The best part of the entire weekend, was Uncle Jim's special surprise. He brought a slide projector and about 20 slides of him, my mom, and my grandparents from when Mom and Uncle Jim were kids. Because there were only a few slides, we spent many minutes on each. We laughed at my grandmother's tendency to cut off people, but to take great pictures of walls. Aunt Sonia took great pleasure in pointing out my uncle's ears whenever there was a question of his identity. I especially enjoyed seeing pictures of my mom as a young girl. She was tall and thin -- all arms and legs -- just like I was!
 
The picture below was taken just after the slide show entertainment. From left to right: Aunt Sonia, Uncle Jim, and Mom

 

I am not a doctor. But, I am a daughter. And, I have to say that Mom is doing amazing. Her thought processes are quick and nimble. Her body is responding to her brain well enough for her to participate in her yoga class (which she attended today). Her smile is contagious. And, her heart is filled with love for all of the wonderful people who support her, each and every day. I am so thankful for this day. Oh...and one more thing! She looks so very pretty in her colorful head scarves!

On Wednesday, after a beautiful morning at the zoo, Mom and I went to her oncologist appointment. This was the first time that we were to talk with Dr. Ritche since learning of the brain metastasis. While Dr. Ritche acknowledged the seriousness of this development, he said that it is possible that the course of radiation that Mom just completed will destroy the brain tumors. As he told us before, small cell cancer is tough because it spreads very quickly. However, it tends to respond favorably to radiation. He shared a story of a patient of his who was diagnosed with small-cell lung cancer that metastasized to the brain. They were able to eradicate the brain tumors with radiation. The man lived an additional 14 years. Dr. Ritche told us that he cannot say if Mom will live one year or 14 years. But, he will do everything in his power to give her the best chance for survival.

As we left the appointment, Mom and I were walking arm in arm down the cancer center halls. Mom's doctor had just given us some encouragement and nothing could bring us down. Then, I couldn't believe my eyes. Walking toward us was the hospital doctor who told us three weeks ago that Mom would die from this cancer in six months. I held on tight to my mom, walked right up the doctor, and said rather boldly, "Hi. Remember us? You treated my mom in the hospital about three weeks ago. Look at her? Doesn't she look amazing? She is doing so well!" The blank look on his face told me that this young doctor had no idea who we were or what her condition was. (Funny how I will never forget his face.) Then Mom and I took off for Barnes and Noble. And, we rode with the sun roof wide open.

Below: Mom and I at the zoo. It was a gorgeous fall day and we enjoyed just being outside.

 

As many of you know from reading this blog, when I need peace and comfort I often go out into nature. And, nature never fails to put this whole world into perspective. This Sunday was no exception.

Sunday morning my 5-year-old niece, Eliana, and I got up early to go for a sunrise hike down by Lake Michigan. We were walking south along the bike path that parallels the lake as the sun started to peek over the water. If you have never watched a sunrise before, you may be surprised to learn that the sun doesn't slowly work its way up. It actually happens very quickly. In fact, you can see the sun move against the horizon. (Of course, I know that the sun is not moving and that it is actually the earth. But, that is how it appears.) Although I didn't time the sunrise, it only seemed to take a few minutes for the round, blazing ball to be lifted up and exposed in its entirety.

When the sun popped up into the sky, I was struck by an overwhelming feeling of connection. The sun rises every single day, whether anyone is there to watch it or not. And, it stays with us throughout the day, warming our bodies and lighting our way. How often do we appreciate what the sun does for us? When do we acknowledge the serenity the sun brings when it reassures us with its steadfast ways? It occurred to me that the sun I was gazing upon was the same sun that watched over the hundreds of thousands of people that came before me. And, it will continue to provide life for thousands, or perhaps millions of years after I am gone.

Another strong sensation also overtook me at this moment. I felt that the sun, the earth, and I were suddenly very close together. We were not very different in terms of size and we were not far apart in terms of distance. It felt almost as if we existed within one of those snow globes that you see at Christmas time. And, like the feeling of connection, this feeling of closeness also gave me an overwhelming sense of peace.

Somehow I knew that everything will be okay, regardless of where this cancer journey takes us. Cancer or no cancer, eventually our bodies will be separated during this lifetime. But, we will always be together as part of something much greater.

My bedroom window faces east. And, every night this week, as I lay in bed thinking about how much I love my mom and fearing what the future may hold, I take comfort in my little snow globe. And, I remember, the sun is on its way.

While I do not have anything "medical" to report, I can tell you that Mom had the most wonderful glow about her today. After breakfast with Dad, Mom and Alicia spent the day shopping, taking in a movie, and talking over coffee. When I came by after work, Mom was making Dad a dinner of sourdough, grilled cheese sandwiches. All of these activities would not have been possible about three weeks ago when Mom was admitted to the hospital. Then, Mom and I sat on the couch and talked about today's miracles and looked at some pictures of Amanda from a few years back.

When I look at my mom, I do not see illness. Instead, I see the most beautiful and courageous woman who is more alive than anyone I have ever known. (Except for maybe Conrad. Mom and Conrad are about tied these days in appreciating the wonders of the world.)

Oh...one more thing! I want to share a picture with you that captures a tender moment between Mom and Eliana. If this doesn't brighten your day, I don't know what will...

People have told me that they admire how positive I am in writing this blog. And, yes, it is true -- I try to stay positive. After all, the alternative isn't such a great option. But, sometimes I hurt so incredibly bad that I couldn't imagine a worse pain.

All of my life my mom has been there to help heal my wounds -- both physical and emotional. She has done more for me than any other person on this earth. And now, I feel so helpless because I can't make this cancer go away. If only I could make this cancer go away...

Tonight as I type through a veil of tears, I think of all of the people who are with us on this journey. When I see that this blog has had over 3,200 page views, I know that we are not alone in our pain. Nor are we alone in our search for answers. There are so many people in this world who love my mom. Thank you so very much for loving my mom.

Mom had another miracle to tell me about today. She said it was either a miracle or a sign.  As she was opening the ladies room door at Froedert Cancer Center, standing in the doorway was her friend Mishu! (I know that I am likely misspelling her name. Please forgive me.) This connection brought much happiness to Mom's day.

Mom's radiologist is starting to lower her steroid prescription, which has been reducing the swelling in the brain and thereby reducing the symptoms of unbalance and trouble walking. Of course, this makes me nervous because Mom has been enjoying feeling quite well for the past week or so. By reducing the steroid, her symptoms may return. As I understand it, the hope is that the radiation treatments should be helping with the tumors and the swelling should not be as pronounced. So, what we need to pray for over the course of the next few days is that the radiation has been blasting the hell out of those tumors and that the symptoms do not return to the degree they once were.

Friday night Mom, Amanda, Conrad and I went to Culvers after picking Amanda up from a social at school. We had such a nice time sitting around, eating, talking, and laughing.  Below is a picture of Mom and Amanda. (Yes, Amanda has painted whiskers. She also has her tail on, as always, but you just can't see it because she is sitting on it. The attention she gets with that tail!) I just wanted to share this happiness with all.

I stopped at my parent's house today to help Mom clean out the fridge. What a liberating activity that is! Getting rid off all of the old and making room for the new. In fact, I was so inspired, that I cleaned out my own fridge when I got home.

When I got to Mom's house, she was sitting in her chair, writing in her journal. She read me today's entry. I cannot remember the exact wording. But, I'd like to share the take-a-way with you.

Mom wrote about her mom -- my grandmother. Grandma didn't like to wrap presents. She used to put gifts in brown paper bags and staple them shut. But, my mom told me, that the things inside of the brown paper bags were the most wonderful hand-made items. Grandma must have been an excellent time manager -- spending her valuable time making the gift, but not wasting time on the packaging.

Mom said that she looked out the window this morning and saw the grey sky. She said that we just needed to unwrap the grey sky to find the miracle waiting for us today. Just like Grandma's gifts.

Then Mom showed me the miracle of the day. She picked up her left foot (the bad foot as she calls it) and moved it from side to side. That was something that she was unable to do a week ago.

Tomorrow is supposed to be another grey, rainy day in southeastern Wisconsin. But, I am sure that there is another miracle just waiting to be unwrapped. We just have to look for it.

Every day my mom continues to amaze me. This morning she sent me the following text message:

"Do you want me to call on your lunch with insights and funny things?"

My reply: "Yes!"

Her text message says it all. She is learning and laughing just as always. And she wants us all along for the ride. So, please take comfort. Today was a good day.

This is the most difficult thing that I have ever had to write. Therefore, I am going to stick to the facts. As we learn more, I will post the information.

On Monday, October 1st I brought Mom to the emergency room at Froedert. Her oncologist, Dr. Riche, was concerned about her growing inability to walk. The ER doctor was fairly certain that the problem was neuropathy. But, Dr. Riche ordered an extensive MRI of her brain and spinal cord.

After 8 hours of tests and waiting, the ER doctor confirmed our worst fears. Mom’s cancer has spread to her brain and is pretty extensive. It can best be described as “salt and peppering” the back and top areas of her brain.

She was immediately admitted to the hospital. They put her on a steroid to reduce the swelling caused by the lesions and reduce the symptoms that she has been experiencing.

The hospital doctors met with us the following day. They said that the cancer was no longer curable. They believed that the plan was going to be to administer radiation to prolong her life, which may give her 6 months to a year before her body would succumb to the disease.

On Wednesday, October 3rd, Mom was released at 12:00. At 12:30 we met with Dr. Gore, her radiologist. Dr. Gore was not in total agreement with the prognosis the hospital doctors had given us. She said that although the cancer is considered incurable at this point, many people live with uncurable disease. She said that she will continue to fight the disease, taking it step-by-step. The first step is ten days of radiation. The second step will be determined by how the cancer responds to the radiation.

All things considered, Mom is doing amazing. The resilience of her spirit is her backbone. Her love for her family and friends is her fuel. She meets every day accepting this challenge and amazes us with her determination. Stay strong, Mom. We are with you.

If anyone has specific questions, please call me. I will do my best to return your calls and answer your questions. 262-945-4872

Mom got the results of her CT Scan today.

NO CANCER!!!

I will write more later.

This past weekend has been very busy with lots of fun stuff. Friday night we all went to see Alicia's debut in "Noises Off". The performance was so spectacular that even Dad was impressed. And, of course, we are all so very proud of our favorite star, Alicia. Saturday Mom and I took Conrad and a friend and all three dogs for a hike at Van Patten Woods. It was a gorgeous end-of-summer day. Today, we headed out to the Wilmot flea market. We entertained ourselves on the drive playing car bingo and Conrad made out like a bandit with a bunch of goodies!


Tomorrow it is back to the grind. Me to work. Mom to Freodert. She is going in for some blood work and a CT scan. On Thursday she will meet with both her oncologist and her radiologist to discuss the results of the tests and any concerns that she might have. One of the things that Mom will be discussing with her doctors is the neuropathy that she is experiencing in her feet. She has a pretty constant numbness and tightness, which makes it hard to walk.

Above all, what we really need to hear is that the CT scan comes back clean. Please, please, please.... Let it be clean.

Eight months ago today was the last day of life as I had known it. The next day I would receive the worst news of my life. And things would be forever changed.

The night my mom was diagnosed with esophageal cancer, I sat on the edge of my bed with waves of the most extreme nausea rolling over my body and soul. "My mom has cancer. This can't be happening. My mom has cancer."

Today my mom is cancer free. I know that this does not mean that tomorrow she will be cancer free. I also know that her health and vitality may never return to what it once was. But, today my mom is cancer free.

I saw Mom for a few minutes this morning before I dropped Conrad off at school to deliver his after-school snack. I spoke with her this afternoon on the phone when she called to see if I bought my house one of the chair covers that she found. I spoke with her again this evening on the phone, just to chat about the days events, what our friends and family are up to, etc. While it was not an exceptional day by most people's standards, to me it was one of the best days ever because my mom was part of it.

When I call my mom and she doesn't answer, her voice mail picks up. Every time that I hear her recorded voice I am so incredibly thankful that I will hear her voice in "real time" again. More than anything, I fear the day that her voice will no longer be part of my daily world. I pray with all that I have that day will not come for a very long time. And, once again, I remind myself that today is a good day.

Today, I have a short story to share with you. This was an exchange between Conrad and I the other day. I have been thinking about it all week. There are many things that I could say about it, but I think the story will say enough.

A mother and her young son were walking home one warm afternoon. They passed an old man with twinkling blue eyes who playfully threatened to shower them with his garden hose. The boy looked up at his mother.

Boy: "That is a nice man, Mommy."

Mother: "Yes, Son. He is very nice. Did you notice his blue eyes?"

Boy: "Yes, Mommy."

Mother: "It makes me sad to think that I will never see your eyes when you are an old man."

Boy: "I will be sad when you die, Mommy. I will think of you every day."

At that moment the mother looked into the face of her young son and saw the eyes of an old man.

Mother: "I will think of you every day, too." (pause) "Let's go eat some dinner."

According to the American Cancer Society, 2012 will bring with it 1,638,910 new cases of cancer. My mom holds the title to one of those cases. Two good friends of mine are battling a new family cancer this year. Since you are reading this blog, your life has been affected by at least one cancer—my mom's cancer. It is likely that you know others who have battled this disease. It is also likely that many of us will receive the dreaded diagnosis ourselves at one point in our lifetimes.

Friday evening at 6:00 my mom and her God-sent friend Ruth will be walking the Survivor Lap at the Relay for Life. If you would like to sponsor them, you can call my mom. If you would like to attend the event, below is a link to the event information.

http://main.acsevents.org/site/TR?pg=entry&fr_id=39340

Mom and Charlie are sporting the same look these days.

Dad decided to get in on it, too.

This was not planned in any way.

I gave Mom a call tonight. Her and dad are still up north and will be heading home tomorrow. She said that she still has coughing spells, but they are easing up. Her feet still feel numb. On Monday she goes to see Dr. Ritche and she will discuss these symptoms with him. He would like to do an endoscopy when her esophagus has healed. But, it looks like that might be a while, yet. That is okay though. I want Mom to take all the time she needs to heal. I am looking forward to seeing her tomorrow or Friday. Not only do I miss her, but I am curious to see how her hair has grown. It doesn't take much to amuse me. That is what happens when you quit watching television.

Tomorrow is the Fourth of July and Mom and Dad are heading back up north for a week. This time it will only be my parents, up until the last day. Then Craig and his family will move into the cabin for the next few weeks. Of course, Mom and Dad would have loved to spend more time with them, but Mom has to be back on Friday for a social gathering. The next week she will be heading back up to Froedert to meet with her oncologist.

Today Mom told me that she has a new concern to share with her doctors. Her feet feel numb. She knows that can be a side effect of the treatments. But, it seems odd that this would be occurring now. Other than that Mom is feeling better slowly but surely. She still needs her rest and the coughing fits are still with her. Her esophagus is also still healing and therefore painful at times. But, everyday she shows a slight increased interest in food. Today she was inquring about Subway. I think a meatball sub is in the near future.

The best thing that happened this week is that Mom invited me to go to Door County with her on October 6th. While the trip will certainly be fun, the very best thing about it is that she made plans for three months from now. A month ago Mom wouldn't have made plans for a week in the future, let alone three months.

Every day I am thankful that I have another day with my Mom. When anything goes wrong, or I am just having a bad day, I think of the gift that we have been given. Nothing in this world compares.

I haven't posted in the past few days because I do not have a smart phone or lap top that would have given me Internet access over our mini-vacation weekend. I am sure I could have used my brother's, but being chained to a computer all week at work I always enjoy the break from technology.

After hearing (and sufficiently spreading) the good news, Mom, Dad, Conrad and I headed up north to meet Craig, Madeline, and Eliana. Although the weather was a bit dreary and our time limited, we had a wonderful weekend together. I can't tell you how many times I just looked at my mom and thought, "She is here. She is at the cabin. How lucky we are!"

We did much of the usual stuff. Paddle-boating. Kayaking. Hiking. Swimming. Creature catching. Mom took things pretty easy, as she should have. She continues to have the horrible coughing fits. But, they do seem to be getting farther apart. And, she was able to eat more solid food. In fact, Saturday night she had her first hamburger in probably two months!

The best parts about the weekend were the little things.

Mom forgot her belt at home. When she got dressed Friday morning her pants dropped to her knees. So, Dad made her a belt out of a piece of rope. Mom and I both laughed at her new style with her roped pants and her stubbly head. But, she couldn't have looked more beautiful to me.

Now five-years-old, Eliana decided that she wanted to sleep in the loft with me and Conrad. Craig and Madeline were hesitant because they thought she might get scared in the middle of the night. But, Conrad reassured everyone that he would take care of her. I awoke that night to hear Eliana "crying". I shot up like a flash and asked her what was wrong. She laughed at me and said, "Silly, Kerry. I'm not crying. I'm laughing!" And she proceeded to tell me about her funny dream the involved her beagle Buster walking on the ceiling.

Determined as always, Craig and Dad set up the new trampoline in the rain. After the guys finally got it assembled, we pulled out lawn chairs and sat around watching the kids bounce. Now that is entertainment!

Madeline has been doing a great job with her new Weight Watcher's program. She really doesn't need it because she looks great. Nevertheless, she seems to be enjoying counting food points and awarding herself points for exercise. It was just one more quirky thing to add the mix of our family weekend.

Today, Alicia met Dad for breakfast. Dad told Alicia that I drove on the way home going 80 miles an hour the whole way and cussing at anyone that got in my way. I called him up to discuss his unique perspective on the situation. He said, "Hey, I'm not complaining. You got us home quickly!"

Mom just received a call from the doctor. 
NO SIGN OF CANCER!!!!

No news, yet. Mom went in this morning and they ran the test. They said that it can take up to three business days to get the results. Unfortunately, if the news comes in over the weekend, I will be out of town and unable to post on this blog. Maybe I will be able to post through my Dad's smart phone. I will try!

Wednesday is a very important day. Wednesday morning at 6:30 Mom will have a test done that will determine the success of the cancer treatment. What we are all hoping for but rarely say aloud is that there will not be any cancer detected. None. Zippo. Zilch. 

I had a limited conversation with mom tonight because she was at the hospital and getting ready to leave. So, I don't know the exact kind of test they are running. But, I do know that she doesn't have to drink any radioactive fruit flavored yuck. That in itself is something to celebrate. The hospital will call her later in the day on Wednesday with the results. You can bet that I will be posting as soon as I can to let you all know what the test reveals.

Thursday evening Mom, Dad, Conrad and I are heading up north to the cabin to meet Craig, Madeline, and Eliana for a mini vacation. Nothing in this world would be better than celebrating some good news with my family this weekend.

After picking him up from summer childcare, Conrad and I stopped to visit Mom. Conrad has a very important job at Mom's house. He puts Spike on the kitchen floor and feeds him worms. (Spike is the Bearded Dragon.) It is one job that Mom dreads, not because she is disgusted by the lizard's table manners. But, it is just one more chore that she doesn't want to think about. Today Spike was especially hungry and eagerly gobbled up six worms.

Mom and I sat and talked for a bit about this and that. Caught up in our conversation, we didn't realize that Conrad fell asleep while on lizard duty -- right in the middle of the linoleum floor! But, wait...where was Spike? He was missing! 

The missing lizard was more than a little upsetting to Mom. I tried to reassure her that we would find him. After all, he is a big, slow, not-so-bright reptile. In less than five minutes we found Spike hiding between a shelf and the wall. I picked him up and put him back in his cage. Then I decided it was time to wake the sleeping child and head home. 

Conrad is not an easy child to wake. In fact, when he was younger, if he fell asleep on the way to the grocery store, I would lay him on the bottom rack of the cart and he would sleep the entire time. But, I managed to rustle him up. The first words out of his mouth, while his eyes were still slits were, "Will someone put Spike away?" 

Perhaps this doesn't sound quite so funny now. But, at the time it was very amusing. Mom had just been telling me how much she appreciates Conrad's help with Spike and how he does such a good job. Then, of course, Conrad fell asleep and the lizard wandered off. Mom freaked and during the whole incident Conrad slept soundly—only to awaken with his first thought being his responsibility.

Tonight, as I was running this story over and over in my head with a chuckle, I realized something. Five months ago, almost to the day, was the worst day of our lives. It was the day that Mom was diagnosed with cancer. I honestly thought that I would never smile again. I was sure that the good days were over. I was wrong. Very, very wrong. Yes, the past months have been tough. But, we have had many, many good times. We have laughed and loved and lived. And we will continue to do so.

Whoa! It has been another three days since I posted. But, you can consider that a good sign. Mom is doing pretty well. Every day she eats a little more solid food. She is maintaining her weight. And, most importantly, she just seems happier. Yoga, aerobics or a nice walk are a part of her daily routine. And, she says that she is up to having Conrad two days a week while I am at work. Tomorrow is their first full day and they are headed to the movies. Of course, if it ends up being too much for her, we have a back-up plan. But, Mom wants to have him and Amanda. And, the kids want to be with her, too.

Tonight when I stopped to visit Mom she looked very well! I think this is the best that I have seen her in six weeks or more. She said that she had a pretty good day, but that she was expecting a coughing fit to come along at any minute. She also said that mornings between 8:00 and 9:00 are the worst. So, she takes a nap then. Nothing wrong with that!

Here is something that is very exciting. Mom's hair is growing back! She told me before, but now you can really see it. Just when we were all getting used to her bald head...

Mom went to a special Yoga class at one of the hospitals here in Kenosha today. The class was for cancer patients and focused on breathing. Not only did she learn some new things about breathing in regards to relaxation, but also that breathing helps cleanse the body of toxins. She enjoyed the class. But, she was the only one who attended! Can you believe that? A free class and not a single other person attended. Needless to say, she received some very personalized attention.

Mom told me something tonight that I will always remember. She said that she doesn't go to classes like that expecting to become an expert. Her only goal is to leave learning one new thing. If she can learn one new thing, then the effort was worth it. No wonder my mom is so smart. Learning is her lifestyle.

Today I was so touched to receive the perfect postcard from Mom's friend, Michelle Nielsen. On the front of the card is a picture of trees on a mountain top and a quote by John Muir.

"In every walk with nature one receives far more than he seeks."

It amazes me that Michelle knew how strongly that message would speak to me, especially considering that Michelle has only known me through my Mom and this blog. It is incredibly ironic that I discovered the most magical spot just the other day in the woods near our home. It is like the landscape one might see in the Lord of the Rings movie, only real—lush with green ferns and grasses that reach up to your shoulders and a quiet stream with just enough stepping stones to get you across. I brought my son there because I needed to share this place with him. When he asked me if I have ever seen a spot this special, the place that came to mind was Machu Picchu. Yes—a Machu Picchu only blocks from my home in Kenosha, Wisconsin.

Thank you so very much, Michelle, for being such a wonderful friend to my mom and for keeping all of us in your thoughts.