The results of yesterday's CT scan showed no signs of Prairie Dogs, so I'm now about a year and three-quarters in remission! The doctor says the exact timing is less important than the actual result, so we are celebrating the great news and ignoring any clock right now.
Actually, Terry celebrated the news "hahhed" and is now fast asleep as I write this. I won't be "fahh" behind. (It's a New England thing).
Thanks for the good vibes.
It's good to be alive.
mike
Wednesday, December 15, 2010
Friday, December 10, 2010
Good Vibes Needed Twice Coming Up
Team Mike has had a long rest now, which is a sign that my recovery continues to go well. But, we need you to spring back into action for two days in the coming week and a half, and send your good vibes to me and Terry.
On December 14th I have my regular 6-month scan (CT this time), and will get the results the next day--which I'll post. Terry and I had a scare a few weeks ago when I felt some pain that was very similar to what I experienced when all of this started in February of last year. So, for a few days we both thought, "Here we go again." It now appears that it was sinus pressure from a head cold that was starting, and the pain symptoms have gone away. Even so, we are anxious to have this scan so soon after that scare, and need your good vibes to help pull us through.
On December 20th I have my third esophogial dilation, to stretch the scar tissue in that area. I have been able to chew and swallow most anything I want to eat, but do feel increased tightness in that area, so am doing this as a precaution, and for the doctor to check for any constriction since the last dilation. That will tell us how often I can expect to have this procedure done in the future. The procedure is safe and fast, but does require full anesthesia. Think of it as an oral colonoscopy.
I'll end on that thought.
mike
On December 14th I have my regular 6-month scan (CT this time), and will get the results the next day--which I'll post. Terry and I had a scare a few weeks ago when I felt some pain that was very similar to what I experienced when all of this started in February of last year. So, for a few days we both thought, "Here we go again." It now appears that it was sinus pressure from a head cold that was starting, and the pain symptoms have gone away. Even so, we are anxious to have this scan so soon after that scare, and need your good vibes to help pull us through.
On December 20th I have my third esophogial dilation, to stretch the scar tissue in that area. I have been able to chew and swallow most anything I want to eat, but do feel increased tightness in that area, so am doing this as a precaution, and for the doctor to check for any constriction since the last dilation. That will tell us how often I can expect to have this procedure done in the future. The procedure is safe and fast, but does require full anesthesia. Think of it as an oral colonoscopy.
I'll end on that thought.
mike
Saturday, November 27, 2010
Check Another One Off the 'Revenge' List
Everyone knows what a "Bucket List" is--a list of things a person wants to do in their life before they, well...kick the bucket. Sometime during the worst part of my treatment for cancer I started to make something that amounted to a "reverse bucket list." It was a mental list of things I wanted to be be able to do again, to get back the quality of life I enjoyed before my diagnosis and treatments. If the old saying is true that "Living well is the best revenge" then in my case the best revenge I could take on my disease was to reclaim as many of the things in my life that cancer had threatened to take away for good.
The list started out modestly and mostly without my own awareness of it--like working hard just to do the simplest things like taking a walk around the neighborhood with Terry.
Check.
Then it was eating solid foods again.
Check.
The it was weaning myself off the medications that clouded both my waking and sleeping times.
Check.
This invisible list started to grow and the "checks" started to mount up as I built some momentum. Up until then I was not really aware that I even had a list--I just wanted to feel better and put the cancer behind me. But soon I did have a list, even if it wasn't written down on paper.
Get healthy enough to teach summer classes.
Check.
Do "Deck time" with Terry (and stay awake for it!).
Check.
Play golf.
Check. Well- it was nine holes, riding on a cart and skipping a few holes along the way, but it still counted to me.
On July 4th 2009 I told my running partner, Jeff, and Terry that I would be ready to run the Peachtree Road Race one year later--at a time I was still breathing heavily after a short walk. That was the first long-range item I put on my list.
On July 4th, 2010 I ran the entire distance of the Peachtree with Jeff.
Big Check!
Them, as I had done a year earlier on that date, I put another long-range item on the list--to run the Atlanta Half Marathon on Thanksgiving day. And, like I did a year earlier, I really wondered "What the hell are you thinking?"
November 25th, 2010. Jeff and I and our friend Margo started out together and all of us completed the 13.1 miles a few minutes apart, about 2 hours and 15 minutes later. As she had done at the Peachtree Road Race, Terry was at the finish line to cheer me on, with a huge smile and a hug.
Check.
Even though the distance was more than twice as far, the half marathon was not the emotional experience the Peachtree Road Race was a few months before. It was as if the Peachtree opened up the door to getting back any part of my life that I wanted, and this was further validation of that possibility.
While there are still a number of small items on my Revenge List, one large item remains and I've set my sights on it for the summer of 2011. I am already working with my ENT doctor to get cleared to SCUBA dive--with the hope of going to Roatan, Honduras in June for our 5th anniversary (we got married there) and to get back the one last thing that cancer threatened to take from my life for good. I can't wait to add that "Check" to my Revenge List!
mike
The list started out modestly and mostly without my own awareness of it--like working hard just to do the simplest things like taking a walk around the neighborhood with Terry.
Check.
Then it was eating solid foods again.
Check.
The it was weaning myself off the medications that clouded both my waking and sleeping times.
Check.
This invisible list started to grow and the "checks" started to mount up as I built some momentum. Up until then I was not really aware that I even had a list--I just wanted to feel better and put the cancer behind me. But soon I did have a list, even if it wasn't written down on paper.
Get healthy enough to teach summer classes.
Check.
Do "Deck time" with Terry (and stay awake for it!).
Check.
Play golf.
Check. Well- it was nine holes, riding on a cart and skipping a few holes along the way, but it still counted to me.
On July 4th 2009 I told my running partner, Jeff, and Terry that I would be ready to run the Peachtree Road Race one year later--at a time I was still breathing heavily after a short walk. That was the first long-range item I put on my list.
On July 4th, 2010 I ran the entire distance of the Peachtree with Jeff.
Big Check!
Them, as I had done a year earlier on that date, I put another long-range item on the list--to run the Atlanta Half Marathon on Thanksgiving day. And, like I did a year earlier, I really wondered "What the hell are you thinking?"
November 25th, 2010. Jeff and I and our friend Margo started out together and all of us completed the 13.1 miles a few minutes apart, about 2 hours and 15 minutes later. As she had done at the Peachtree Road Race, Terry was at the finish line to cheer me on, with a huge smile and a hug.
Check.
Even though the distance was more than twice as far, the half marathon was not the emotional experience the Peachtree Road Race was a few months before. It was as if the Peachtree opened up the door to getting back any part of my life that I wanted, and this was further validation of that possibility.
While there are still a number of small items on my Revenge List, one large item remains and I've set my sights on it for the summer of 2011. I am already working with my ENT doctor to get cleared to SCUBA dive--with the hope of going to Roatan, Honduras in June for our 5th anniversary (we got married there) and to get back the one last thing that cancer threatened to take from my life for good. I can't wait to add that "Check" to my Revenge List!
mike
Saturday, November 20, 2010
Remembering Al Fleetwood
The email arrived in Terry's box on the morning of Tuesday, November 16th. It was from one of her best friends, Cynthia Fleetwood, and the subject line said it all, "He's gone." Her husband, Allison "Al" Fleetwood, Sr. had passed away the night before in a hospice care facility near their home in Cruso, North Carolina. Al succumbed to pancreatic cancer at the age of 80. The AJC obituary described his battle as one fought "with courage and grace." While I did not see Al during that battle, I have no doubt that we was characteristically courageous and graceful in his final days, even while enduring one of the most painful kinds of cancer.
As I write the rest of this, it's now Monday the 22nd, and much has taken place since hearing of Al's passing. Al's family had a memorial service for him in Atlanta yesterday--it was well attended and included some touching moments made by friends and family. Terry went up to NC to pick up Cynthia, so she could attend. Cynthia stayed with us for two nights and along with the memorial service, I heard so many great stories about Al. Those stories confirmed many of my own perceptions of Al as a professional, father, grandfather, husband, friend, and lover of life.
I had only a handful of opportunities to get to know Al, but I cherished every one of them. In a word, I admired him and hoped that I would someday come to be just a little like him. He was a true iconoclast--one by choice, not by alienation from the movers and shakers. By that I mean, Al lived among the establishment much of his adult life, but was never a part of the establishment. Al was an architect, with a degree from Georgia Tech--a traditional southern university. He was a fighter pilot in the US Marine Corps, one of the most traditional institutions in our country. He was associated with several major architectural firms in the boom period of Atlanta's growth--including John Portman and Associates, who had a hand in building much of downtown Atlanta's skyline. He was considered so good that many of those firms sent him to far away places to get troubled projects completed on time and within budget.
So, on paper, Al looked liked any other skilled and accomplished professional in the world of big business, but he always knew that he was not of that world. He wanted more out of his life, so he read broadly and deeply, loved the banter of friendly contested conversation, would pursue things that he just simply wanted to learn about, and he enjoyed the arts and music.
Once he retired from the world of Big Architecture, he chose to live a simple and frugal life with Cynthia in the mountains of North Carolina--nearly as far off the "social grid" as people can be in this day and age. He and Cynthia were extremely happy living as caretakers of a small, isolated cottage surrounded by the Pisgah National Forest--where I first met him.
I found out quickly that Al was not just another very intelligent person--in his world and mine people with that quality are plentiful. But Al had the one thing that is extremely rare these days--he had used his native intelligence and worldly experiences to achieve wisdom, which is what I came to admire most about him. Al "got it" as much as any other person I've met in my life--and then shared and taught what he knew to his family and friends in his straight-forward but compassionate manner. After all, he was a Southern Gentleman at heart!
As I think he would be proud to know, Al taught me a lot--even in those few times I had to be around him. From what I've learned since the time of his passing, I am just one person among many in Al's life who can say that.
mike
As I write the rest of this, it's now Monday the 22nd, and much has taken place since hearing of Al's passing. Al's family had a memorial service for him in Atlanta yesterday--it was well attended and included some touching moments made by friends and family. Terry went up to NC to pick up Cynthia, so she could attend. Cynthia stayed with us for two nights and along with the memorial service, I heard so many great stories about Al. Those stories confirmed many of my own perceptions of Al as a professional, father, grandfather, husband, friend, and lover of life.
I had only a handful of opportunities to get to know Al, but I cherished every one of them. In a word, I admired him and hoped that I would someday come to be just a little like him. He was a true iconoclast--one by choice, not by alienation from the movers and shakers. By that I mean, Al lived among the establishment much of his adult life, but was never a part of the establishment. Al was an architect, with a degree from Georgia Tech--a traditional southern university. He was a fighter pilot in the US Marine Corps, one of the most traditional institutions in our country. He was associated with several major architectural firms in the boom period of Atlanta's growth--including John Portman and Associates, who had a hand in building much of downtown Atlanta's skyline. He was considered so good that many of those firms sent him to far away places to get troubled projects completed on time and within budget.
So, on paper, Al looked liked any other skilled and accomplished professional in the world of big business, but he always knew that he was not of that world. He wanted more out of his life, so he read broadly and deeply, loved the banter of friendly contested conversation, would pursue things that he just simply wanted to learn about, and he enjoyed the arts and music.
Once he retired from the world of Big Architecture, he chose to live a simple and frugal life with Cynthia in the mountains of North Carolina--nearly as far off the "social grid" as people can be in this day and age. He and Cynthia were extremely happy living as caretakers of a small, isolated cottage surrounded by the Pisgah National Forest--where I first met him.
I found out quickly that Al was not just another very intelligent person--in his world and mine people with that quality are plentiful. But Al had the one thing that is extremely rare these days--he had used his native intelligence and worldly experiences to achieve wisdom, which is what I came to admire most about him. Al "got it" as much as any other person I've met in my life--and then shared and taught what he knew to his family and friends in his straight-forward but compassionate manner. After all, he was a Southern Gentleman at heart!
As I think he would be proud to know, Al taught me a lot--even in those few times I had to be around him. From what I've learned since the time of his passing, I am just one person among many in Al's life who can say that.
mike
Monday, July 26, 2010
Prairie Dogs Still in Retreat!
The results of last week's PET scan came back normal. No sign of any PD's to be found. Different from how we were counting, they are now declaring me to be 18 months cancer free, so the added good news today was that update on my post-treatment calendar. It's not an exact calendar to begin with, but it was a nice thing to hear. The next scan will be in 6 months.
The oncologist continues to be impressed with how I have responded to the treatments and gotten back to so many of the things I did before that time. I mentioned that I did the Peachtree 10K and his eyes lit up! He confided that he did the Peachtree for 23 years before his own diagnosis and treatments (for the same cancer I had), but never felt the urge to get back into exercising again.
But, all of the news is not glowing. I am experiencing some latent side effects from the radiation treatments (aka, "The gift that keeps on giving") that are going to need some special attention in the near future--and probably for the rest of my life. All of my symptoms are quite common for a year after treatments , but come under the old saying, "Just when you thought it was safe..." None of this is life threatening, or increases the chances of the cancer recurring, but is serving to remind me that this disease will always be a part of my life.
But enough of that. Terry and I are going out to dinner to do a little celebrating for all the great news we got today, and will make a toast to Team Mike once again for all the love, support, humor, and good vibes you've sent our way to help us come so far so fast.
mike
The oncologist continues to be impressed with how I have responded to the treatments and gotten back to so many of the things I did before that time. I mentioned that I did the Peachtree 10K and his eyes lit up! He confided that he did the Peachtree for 23 years before his own diagnosis and treatments (for the same cancer I had), but never felt the urge to get back into exercising again.
But, all of the news is not glowing. I am experiencing some latent side effects from the radiation treatments (aka, "The gift that keeps on giving") that are going to need some special attention in the near future--and probably for the rest of my life. All of my symptoms are quite common for a year after treatments , but come under the old saying, "Just when you thought it was safe..." None of this is life threatening, or increases the chances of the cancer recurring, but is serving to remind me that this disease will always be a part of my life.
But enough of that. Terry and I are going out to dinner to do a little celebrating for all the great news we got today, and will make a toast to Team Mike once again for all the love, support, humor, and good vibes you've sent our way to help us come so far so fast.
mike
Saturday, July 10, 2010
Good Vibes Needed Again Soon
It's been a while since Team Mike has been called into action, but we need everyone to send us your prayers, thoughts, good vibes, etc. on two days coming up soon. Mike's periodic PET scan is scheduled for July 20th. We won't get the results until the 26th because the lead oncologist is out of the office the week of the scan.
We will post the results to the blog as soon as we have them.
The continuing good news is that Mike is feeling nothing that might predict a bad scan result. We are cautiously confident we'll get good news on the 26th, BUT we are not taking anything for granted, so please send those good vibes to us.
As always, thanks for checking in on us.
Mike and Terry
We will post the results to the blog as soon as we have them.
The continuing good news is that Mike is feeling nothing that might predict a bad scan result. We are cautiously confident we'll get good news on the 26th, BUT we are not taking anything for granted, so please send those good vibes to us.
As always, thanks for checking in on us.
Mike and Terry
Monday, July 5, 2010
Another (6.2) Milestone Reached
The long hot spell that went through the whole month of June and into the first days for July broke the day before the Peachtree 10K Road Race, giving 55,000 relieved runners one of the coolest starts in the race's history. Combined with a new starting format that eliminated the shoulder-to-shoulder crowding in past races, this was easily the most comfortable of the 14 Peachtrees I've ever done. And running 45 pounds lighter than in 2008 helped a lot!
Two weeks before the race I figured I had no chance of running the whole distance, and was OK with a plan to maybe walk a mile or more of the course. Then, nine days before the race, I did a practice run on the whole Peachtree course with my running partner, Jeff Rupp, in miserably hot and humid weather. To my surprise I walked only a very small part of it, and knew then I had a chance to run the whole distance come July 4th.
I got a little emotional as my right foot hit the starting line and activated the timing loop tied to my shoe. As I reflected on that for the first few minutes of the run, I realized that the emotions came from knowing I had gotten back yet another part of life that cancer had taken away for a year. I had not realized how much I had missed running the Peachtree last year until that moment--and I was going to enjoy every step of the way, especially knowing that there was no question I could finish, and run the entire distance. I was pumped, and even had the nerve to tell Jeff not to let me run too fast for his pace (This is a guy who has run the Peachtree 20+ times and did a half marathon last November).
The biggest challenge on the Peachtree course is called "Cardiac Hill", a long steady incline that has earned that nickname a few times over the years. Near the top of Cardiac Hill is Piedmont Hospital, where I got all of my radiation treatments and most of my chemo treatments last year. At the top of Cardiac Hill, I raised my hands and made one clap--as a kind of 'atta boy,' knowing that most of the remaining course was downhill from there. Another small wave of emotion came and went quickly because I really knew then that nothing could stop me from finishing.
My wife, Terry, and Jeff's wife Deb were waiting for us about 200 yards before the finish line, where Deb took the picture above. We hugged after that, and Jeff and I did the last few yards of the course, got our t-shirts (mixed reviews on the design), found the car and opened up the coldest, best tasting beers ever, and went to the Rupp's house for the traditional post-race orange rolls.
Later than day, Terry and I found a quiet spot in the midst of a family barbeque and commented just how normal it had all felt. It had been a very long time since we could say that, and in the end it was more appropriate to down play the significance of the day's event, and just go back to living day to day. If "Living well is the best revenge" (in this case against cancer), then that's what we'll do every day for the rest of our lives.
I hope your July 4th was as good as ours.
mike
Friday, June 18, 2010
Getting Ready for the Peachtree
If you live in the Atlanta area you know all about the Peachtree 10K Road Race, held every year on the 4th of July. It has 55,000 runners and is the largest or second largest 10K race in the world--depends on who's counting. Since moving to Atlanta, I have run in the Peachtree in all but two years--one of those being last year, when I was still too weak to watch the race in person, much less run it. But, I did go over to our friends' house (Jeff and Deb Rupp) to do our traditional post-race celebration of getting in the hot tub, drinking cold beer, eating freshly baked orange rolls, and complaining that they once again picked the worst t-shirt design to win the 2009 contest. Truth be told, I was in no shape to get into the tub, I couldn't drink beer yet, had not yet started back on solid food, and had no shirt of my own to complain about. So, right then and there I declared that I would get healthy enough to join Jeff for the 2010 Peachtree.I gradually got strong enough to start walking regularly with Terry around our neighborhood, and began to work out in the GSU gym in the fall. I started to run on the indoor track at GSU, which then led to outdoor runs of about 2 miles, 2-3 times a week. In early spring I could actually see myself being ready for the Peachtree--maybe not to run the whole distance, but surely able to finish it with some combination of running and walking (more walking than running).
When I completed my race application on line, I noticed a small box that people could fill out to talk about their motivation to run the 2010 Peachtree. So, I briefly told the story of my cancer and treatments, my pledge to get ready to run this year, and my progress up to that time. To my surprise, about a month ago I got an email from a woman who writes stories for the Peachtree Road Race Magazine, asking if they could publish my story and requested a picture. So, I sent them the "No Prairie Dog" picture from last November, and explained the meaning behind it. (Click on the page image to enlarge it)
I originally thought this was going to appear in the Atlanta Track Club newsletter that would go only to ATC members. As it turns out, it was sent to everyone who is entered to run the race or work as a volunteer--probably about 60,000 people! My first reaction was "Shit, now I really DO have to run the race!" But, the truth is I'm now running 4 miles, 3 times a week, and expect to walk only a very little bit of the 10K course.
In my emails with the magazine reporter, I emphasized that this is not just my story. The full story includes Terry and everyone else who gave me such great support along the way. As the story says, I'm running the Peachtree to show that it is possible to come through adversity, and to sometimes even find a silver lining in it. I'm also running it to again say "Thanks" to all of you who helped me come this far.
So, around 7:30 am on the 4th, send some good vibes as I start on the course. Then, know that around 9:30, I'll be in the Rupp's hot tub, drinking cold beer, eating orange rolls, and proudly holding up (and complaining about) my 2010 Peachtree t-shirt!
Of course, I'll be napping by 10:30.
Have a great July 4th holiday.
Mike
Sunday, April 25, 2010
Recent Checkups, PET Scan in July
Mike recently had checkups with two of his doctors and all indications are that his recovery continues to go well. Great news. He is running twice a week now, and still on schedule to do the Peachtree 10K on the 4th of July.
His next scan will be a PET Scan on July 20th, with the results given to us on the 23rd. Please send your good vibes on both of those days, and we'll post the results as soon as we can.
In the meantime, we are racking up lots of "deck time" here, and looking forward to a long stay at the beach in May.
Mike and Terry
His next scan will be a PET Scan on July 20th, with the results given to us on the 23rd. Please send your good vibes on both of those days, and we'll post the results as soon as we can.
In the meantime, we are racking up lots of "deck time" here, and looking forward to a long stay at the beach in May.
Mike and Terry
Friday, April 2, 2010
What a Difference a Year Makes
Sometimes 365 days can seem like a very long time, while at other times it seems like things that happened a year ago took place just yesterday. Terry and I kept our 2009 appointment book with all of the medical events from last year in it. Every week or so we look at it to remind us of, well, where we were at that time last year.
This week a year ago, I went through the worst period of my treatment phase. We drove my brother Jim to the airport on March 31 at around 1pm, and about 7 hours later I was being admitted to Piedmont Hospital for what would turn out to be four days. Terry's urging to not wait until the next morning literally saved my life. In the middle of that night I had a cardiac event that was brought on by my second round of chemo two weeks earlier. My heart was racing at 180 beats per minute, and I was sleeping through it! Even after the nurse woke me up after responding to the monitor's alarm, I couldn't feel my heart beating that fast. If that event had happened at home, I would not have survived. The cardiac event was compounded by me reaching the lowest point possible with my white blood cell count--which had been predicted. I spent four days in a dilaudid fog, which included some horrible nightmares, and some other dreams that had me convinced that 1) I had been left by my friends at the men's Final four tournament (while still in my hospital gown and bed), 2) Terry had come one day to take me to the airport to do a speech in Kansas, and 3) the timers on my many IV dispensers were bombs, so I needed to take out the IVs before the timers hit zero. Thankfully, the first one I took out alerted the nurse who rushed in and managed to convince me that it was just a dream. "Right, easy for you to say."
Terry and I have marked this as the worst days of my treatment and her most terrified period, but because of that we also marked the next week as the time when we can say I started to get better--which I celebrated today by running three miles outdoors on a drop-dead gorgeous spring day. Last night we spent several hours of "deck time", recalling how much we love to do that, and missed it so badly last year--and thinking back on where things were this time last year.
We are not naive enough to think that our battle against cancer is over forever and I still have some lingering and some permanent effects from the radiation and chemo, but we are definitely feeling great about how much of our lives we have gained back in "just" 365 days.
To all of you out there who helped us in any way and sent those good vibes when they were needed so often, we want to say again--thanks. So, go out, find some Prairie Dogs, smile at one of them and then kick the shit out of it for us.
Mike
PS--I picked three of the Final Four teams, including Butler. I'm probably dreaming that, too.
This week a year ago, I went through the worst period of my treatment phase. We drove my brother Jim to the airport on March 31 at around 1pm, and about 7 hours later I was being admitted to Piedmont Hospital for what would turn out to be four days. Terry's urging to not wait until the next morning literally saved my life. In the middle of that night I had a cardiac event that was brought on by my second round of chemo two weeks earlier. My heart was racing at 180 beats per minute, and I was sleeping through it! Even after the nurse woke me up after responding to the monitor's alarm, I couldn't feel my heart beating that fast. If that event had happened at home, I would not have survived. The cardiac event was compounded by me reaching the lowest point possible with my white blood cell count--which had been predicted. I spent four days in a dilaudid fog, which included some horrible nightmares, and some other dreams that had me convinced that 1) I had been left by my friends at the men's Final four tournament (while still in my hospital gown and bed), 2) Terry had come one day to take me to the airport to do a speech in Kansas, and 3) the timers on my many IV dispensers were bombs, so I needed to take out the IVs before the timers hit zero. Thankfully, the first one I took out alerted the nurse who rushed in and managed to convince me that it was just a dream. "Right, easy for you to say."
Terry and I have marked this as the worst days of my treatment and her most terrified period, but because of that we also marked the next week as the time when we can say I started to get better--which I celebrated today by running three miles outdoors on a drop-dead gorgeous spring day. Last night we spent several hours of "deck time", recalling how much we love to do that, and missed it so badly last year--and thinking back on where things were this time last year.
We are not naive enough to think that our battle against cancer is over forever and I still have some lingering and some permanent effects from the radiation and chemo, but we are definitely feeling great about how much of our lives we have gained back in "just" 365 days.
To all of you out there who helped us in any way and sent those good vibes when they were needed so often, we want to say again--thanks. So, go out, find some Prairie Dogs, smile at one of them and then kick the shit out of it for us.
Mike
PS--I picked three of the Final Four teams, including Butler. I'm probably dreaming that, too.
Friday, February 19, 2010
Ricardo "Rick" Consuegra
We heard the sad news yesterday that Rick passed away early in the morning of February 18th, in a nearby hospice facility.
Rick was a very robust 69 before cancer struck him down so quickly. We would often see him walking far from the house for his daily exercise, and he loved to work on the little red vintage sportscar that was his pride and joy.
We've learned that Rick came to the US from Cuba 48 years ago and he and Obmara were married a year later. They were a quiet couple who worked hard to make their yard and house look great all the time. They also enjoyed going to the duplex they owned in Florida and at one time planned to sell the house here and move there on a permanent basis.
Funeral services for Rick will be held tommorrow (2/20) at noon. Please send your thoughts and prayers to Obmara and their families when you get a moment.
mike
Rick was a very robust 69 before cancer struck him down so quickly. We would often see him walking far from the house for his daily exercise, and he loved to work on the little red vintage sportscar that was his pride and joy.
We've learned that Rick came to the US from Cuba 48 years ago and he and Obmara were married a year later. They were a quiet couple who worked hard to make their yard and house look great all the time. They also enjoyed going to the duplex they owned in Florida and at one time planned to sell the house here and move there on a permanent basis.
Funeral services for Rick will be held tommorrow (2/20) at noon. Please send your thoughts and prayers to Obmara and their families when you get a moment.
mike
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
Update on Rick--Worst News Possible
We saw Rick's wife, Obmara, yesterday and heard terrible news about his status. His recent downturn was due less to the chemo and more to his rapidly worsening overall condition. He has been given just 3-4 weeks to live. While we've known since he told us about his cancer that he would not survive, we were stunned to hear such a short timeline. Very tragic for two people who were just settling into a well-earned happy and quiet retirement.
They have lots of family in the area and are getting very strong support from them, but this is a very sad thing to watch happen so close to us.
Please keep them in your thoughts.
mike
They have lots of family in the area and are getting very strong support from them, but this is a very sad thing to watch happen so close to us.
Please keep them in your thoughts.
mike
Sunday, February 7, 2010
Need Good Vibes For Our Neighbor
Our next door neightbor, Rick was taken to the hospital by ambulance this morning after a very bad reaction to his second chemo treatment. He looked pale and weak when I saw him. His condition has deteriorated rapidly since getting his diaagnose of liver cancer just two months ago. I hope this setback today is due more to the chemo than his overall condition.
Please keep Rick in your thoughts and prayers, and I'll provde an update when I know something more.
mike
Please keep Rick in your thoughts and prayers, and I'll provde an update when I know something more.
mike
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
Prairie Dogs Still in Retreat!
We got great news this morning on my six-month follow up CT scan. No sign of cancer and no false positives!
Thanks to all of you for the good vibes, prayers, etc. you sent our way this time around.
I'll have my next scan around mid-2010, but will continue to post to the blog every once in while to report on my progress and that of others we have mentioned here lately.
Mike
Thanks to all of you for the good vibes, prayers, etc. you sent our way this time around.
I'll have my next scan around mid-2010, but will continue to post to the blog every once in while to report on my progress and that of others we have mentioned here lately.
Mike
Friday, January 15, 2010
Need Good Vibes for Rick, Danny, and Deb
It's past midnight and I'm able to enjoy a late night glass of wine (or two) (or three) but my thoughts are turning to others who are still fighting their battle with cancer and having a much more difficult time than I experienced, so I'd like to ask you to put them in your thoughts and prayers in the coming days and weeks.
Our next door neighbor, Rick, is not doing well at all. Terry saw him a few days ago and thought he was very weak and has lost a lot of weight. We don't know his full status, but it doesn't look good. A while ago Rick told us that he knew he wouldn't survive, and just wanted to not feel the pain of his cancer.
My own "treatment buddy" Danny Medley has a scan on February 25th, so please send him your best energy that day for a negative test result (yes, that's the good one). Danny is still not able to swallow as much as a sip of water, but has managed to gain 15 pounds by eating through his tube. All I did was lose weight every single day when I had my feeding tube in, so that is remarkable. I admire him for that, more than anyone can imagine.
When we were in Phoenix in January we spent some time with Bob and Deb Pangrazi. I've known Bob for many years--he's a true giant in PE. Now, he's the primary caregiver for his wife, who's been diagnosed with cervical cancer--actually misdiagnosed for several months, delaying the start of her treatments. Deb just finished her second course of radiation and chemo and they are waiting it out until she can get another scan done. Terry and I had had a wonderful time with them, relating as couples who've gone through this together. Bob and Deb get 'full points' for whatever part of the fight against cancer that can be credited to a positive attitude and sense of humor. To help them even more, please keep them in your thoughts in the coming weeks.
mike
Our next door neighbor, Rick, is not doing well at all. Terry saw him a few days ago and thought he was very weak and has lost a lot of weight. We don't know his full status, but it doesn't look good. A while ago Rick told us that he knew he wouldn't survive, and just wanted to not feel the pain of his cancer.
My own "treatment buddy" Danny Medley has a scan on February 25th, so please send him your best energy that day for a negative test result (yes, that's the good one). Danny is still not able to swallow as much as a sip of water, but has managed to gain 15 pounds by eating through his tube. All I did was lose weight every single day when I had my feeding tube in, so that is remarkable. I admire him for that, more than anyone can imagine.
When we were in Phoenix in January we spent some time with Bob and Deb Pangrazi. I've known Bob for many years--he's a true giant in PE. Now, he's the primary caregiver for his wife, who's been diagnosed with cervical cancer--actually misdiagnosed for several months, delaying the start of her treatments. Deb just finished her second course of radiation and chemo and they are waiting it out until she can get another scan done. Terry and I had had a wonderful time with them, relating as couples who've gone through this together. Bob and Deb get 'full points' for whatever part of the fight against cancer that can be credited to a positive attitude and sense of humor. To help them even more, please keep them in your thoughts in the coming weeks.
mike
Good Vibes Needed on January 18th and 20th
Mike has a CT scan on January 18th--his first follow-up scan since getting the "all clear" last fall. We'll get the results from the lead oncologist on January 20th and post them right away.
Please send some good vibes our way on those days. We continue to need your support to keep the great news going from the end of 2009.
Mike continues to get stronger. He's able to work out in the gym and to run short distances, looking to get ready for the Peachtree Road Race 10K on July 4th.
He still needs to be careful with what he eats, but has expanded his selections and is able to eat a little more at meals lately. Lots of foods are still out of bounds for him and his ability to taste certain kinds of food is still limited--and still no spicy food allowed--but he's getting back some of his appetite and meals are less of an adventure than they were before he got his esophagus dilated.
Progress, whatever it is and however small, is still the name of the game for him.
Terry and Mike
Please send some good vibes our way on those days. We continue to need your support to keep the great news going from the end of 2009.
Mike continues to get stronger. He's able to work out in the gym and to run short distances, looking to get ready for the Peachtree Road Race 10K on July 4th.
He still needs to be careful with what he eats, but has expanded his selections and is able to eat a little more at meals lately. Lots of foods are still out of bounds for him and his ability to taste certain kinds of food is still limited--and still no spicy food allowed--but he's getting back some of his appetite and meals are less of an adventure than they were before he got his esophagus dilated.
Progress, whatever it is and however small, is still the name of the game for him.
Terry and Mike
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