The C Word - A new battle ensues

Oh my gosh, I have absolutely no idea where to begin or how to even process this day. 

 I could start with the mundane absurdity of our refrigerator leaking this morning. I discovered that at 2 AM when I went downstairs because I couldn't sleep.  I think that was God's way of giving me something else to think about. It's not an emergency. I will deal with that later.

We arrived for check in at 5AM and at 7:30 George was off to surgery.

I had asked Dr. Bastidas if it would be the same routine and he said yes.  Off to the waiting room I went (after getting myself a large breakfast).

The last time he had CRS/HIPEC I got word about 9:30-10 that it was a "go" which meant that the HIPEC would occur. At 11:30 Dr B had come out with his update.

Today, 9:30 came and went. 10:30 came and went. Hoping for the best I thought that perhaps they were not going to announce he would have HIPEC and just moved forward. If this were the case then I expected to see Dr. B sometime around noon.

I had plenty of company. Rosemary, Denise, Sara and Chloe, Stan, Cathy P, Victoria. At noon the waiting room volunteer came over and told me that someone would come give me an update at 1:00.  I was still hoping for the best and thought that perhaps the surgery took longer because of all the detail work that needed to be done.

At 1:00 Dr. Bastidas came out and took me to the consult room. As soon as we walked in he said, I don't have good news for you."  He went on to explain that upon opening George they saw cancer everywhere. There were not a lot of mucin out materials like the last time, but the cancer was all over his small intestines and I think he said on the liver too. They couldn't get it all. There was just too much which, of course, meant that they couldn't do the HIPEC (chemo). A good deal of the time was spent unraveling the small intestine and trying to find a portion that could be saved. They ended up cutting out half of it, leaving him with 105 cm.  Doctor says that nutritional sustenance needs 100 cm so George had just enough to cover that. He did not need stoma bag. He also said that there was some small bowl obstruction (SBO)... Which totally explains the nausea even more.

He said that it would probably be difficult to find an oncologist willing or able to do chemo. We will need to meet with Dr. Sheh to see if there are other options out there.  We will now probably be needing to use Immodium and Lomotil a whole lot more to manage chronic diarrhea.

He said that he does not believe the pathology changed, meaning that he believes it is still low grade appendiceal (i.e. Non aggressive). He said something about tumor markets which he ran for the last set of  labs... But I don't know enough about that to know what he was talking about.

He explained the various tubes and lines that I would see. Two of them will go home with us. Although George will be able to eat, his nutrition has suffered these past weeks. One of the tubes will be used to pump food directly to his belly and is something I will need to learn to hook up at night. The other line is to extract excess gases off his stomach. These should be temporary if he is able to resume eating. 30 days or so.  If he is doing okay and at least maintaining weight, they will come out. If not, I guess they stay in longer.

I'm trying to think if there was anything else they talked about, but you can imagine I and the kids and family are reeling from this seemingly disastrous news. We don't know the short or long term expectations and may not know that for days or weeks. Pathology report should be done by early next week.

I dread having to tell George when he wakes up. As I said in a previous posting, he already feels useless... We need to figure out how to learn to live WITH cancer, knowing (at least for now) there is no other treatment. I am trying to wrap my head around all of this. I think God was preparing me for this because I just had a sense of dread for the past few days, more than before. Up until a few days ago I was not feeling this way... Hence what I wrote last night... I wanted to believe the best... I wanted another miracle... God doesn't always answer us the way we want or expect... So now I need to see if we can figure out the why of all if this... Try to make sense of this... 

I will go home sometime tonight to try to rest (it may be ambien induced rest). I don't know if we will be able to tell George tonight. More likely it will be tomorrow so I want to come back bright and early to be here when he's told (by myself or Dr B).

Thank you today for Sara who helped make two very difficult calls. For Cathy and Victoria for shoulders to cry on. For Rosemary and Denise being here for moral support.

We have a new battle to attend to now. Well, perhaps the same battle, just different lines have been drawn now. We were not expecting to have to ramp up this soon.

I will post daily to keep others informed. I think I need to restrict visitors to family and closest of close friends for at least a day or two to give us all time to digest this information and start to come to terms for how this impacts us in the short and long haul. I pray that we are able to get George to a place where he is comfortable, to where pain is manageable, bodily function in control as much as possible... So we can do a bit more living and experiencing joys. Right now it looks bleak but we don't have all the information yet. Pray, pray, pray!!!!

The “C” Word - The Next Chapter, Day 26 - The Night Before Surgery

I have to be honest.  I put on a brave face where everyone else is concerned.  Maybe it was the way I was raised, “If you have nothing good to say, don’t say anything at all.”  Maybe it is because the things I have had to deal with over the years are, in the grand scheme of things, not as big as other people’s issues.  That is not to say that it diminishes my life or feelings, but I look at others with much larger problems and wonder what it is that I have to complain about.  It’s a choice, often a conscious choice, for me to decide that “I’ve got this under control”.  The majority of the time, this is a true statement.

But there are times in the dark, stillness of the early morning hours or when I have the opportunity to get some time to myself (which, trust me, is not very often), that all the fears and doubts creep in and I am a puddle of tears.  I don’t like others to see that part of me.  I have become good at hiding it – avoiding it.  Most of the time anyway.  I am a hypocrite when George cries and I tell him it is okay to do so.  It makes him more human.  So why do I hide this part of myself like I do is anyone’s guess.  Perhaps it is because I do not like to admit that I am not always strong.  Perhaps it is because I don’t want anyone to feel sorry for me.  It could be one of those or it could be something I am not even aware of.

I have written how much I have turned to my Christian music for comfort and peace.  There are certain songs that make me weep.  It will happen at church sometimes.  I dab at the tears, embarrassed that not only can I not hold them in but I can’t explain why they occur.  I think it is because the songs make me so humble in the eyes of the Lord, it is through Him that I exist.  I weep because He loves me in all of my sinful, not so pretty ways (and yes, I am telling you that I have faults!)  In those moments I feel so vulnerable – no one likes feeling vulnerable and I fight against that all the time – yet I feel God touching my very soul with his music, with the gift of song and I can be both down on my knees in prayer or lifting my hands in praise. 

Some of the losses in my life have been significant - - a college roommate and grandparents some 30 years ago, my husband Mike, my dad, my mom to name a few.  And I have lived through those times of hurt and pain with as more grace than I ever thought was possible. Though there were some very dark periods of time for me after those, for the most part I was able to look to God and see a reason or a purpose for them being taken from my life.  I have been able to find peace and positive energy in spite of the seemingly unsurmountable losses.  I have an innate sense of God’s love and know that God will see me through no matter what life sends my way. 

I am extremely humbled by all the people around the world who take the time to say a prayer for us, to offer us their love and support.  Many we do not know.  To say I am grateful would be a huge understatement.  Who am I that all these people should care?  God’s grace and mercy overflows from them to me and renders me speechless and I fight back tears of humility and thankfulness.

It is in the songs of Christ that I surrender myself to Him.  It is as though He is reaching into my heart to let me know that I am loved, that WE are loved.   I know that I have absolutely no control over where life is taking me.  It scares me sometimes because there is no crystal ball.  And trust me, there are times I want that crystal ball so badly.

I want to know that George will be whole once he is healed from this surgery.  I don’t have that promise or that guarantee.  I am so afraid of this surgery because he is so much weaker than before the first surgery.  His spirit seems so broken these days when he talks about being tired of being tired… of not know what his purpose is here on earth… of his frustrations that he made a promise if he lived through the first surgery and he has not been able to fulfill that promise yet. He has lost all sense of self.  Feels he falls so short as a husband and provider.  And as hard as I try to lay that all before our Lord I find that my humanness keeps bubbling up and the fears sneak back in.

I remember after Mike died that when I looked back at those last weeks of life that things happened that should have been a sign, but of course we didn’t know it.  We saw people that we hadn’t visited in awhile.   We became foster parents as a pay back of sorts – because Mike wanted to give someone else a chance just as he had been given.  We were doubly blessed because Rachel had a little baby, so Mike got to experience being a grandfather for all of 6 weeks.  We were in a good place spiritually, he was enjoying being part of a church family and was taking a Bible study.  It was all so good, the best it had been in our 20 years of marriage.  And, then… POOF, it was gone. 

And now I find myself looking for signs of that happening again.  Will I know it before it happens?  I find myself asking questions I never thought I would have to ask.  “George, what is your “limit”?  What kinds of conditions are you willing to live in?”  I have to know that because if not now, then at some point this cancer or some other health condition could lead to my having to help make a decision.  I hate having to think of those things.  But even though there are true moments of doubt and despair, inevitably I know that there is “not a spot where God is not” and no matter what happens, no matter what cards are dealt, not only will a survive but I will thrive. 

I feel for George - - these past two years have not been fun for him, nor for me.  These recent weeks have been horrid.  How many times is too many times to go to the restroom (even though many are false alarms, he doesn’t trust his body signals).  Back and forth and back and forth seems to be the bane of his existence.  What kind of life is it to live in fear of being too far from a bathroom?  Up until December he had gotten things to a relatively good place and things were pretty manageable.  Will they ever be that way again?  Will he find some peace or happiness when all is said and done?  Or will things be worse?  No crystal ball to give us those answers.  We have to wait and see what is in store for us.

This is my final posting just before surgery day.  George will not see this for many weeks.  I pray that when he does read this that he is in a better place than he is today.  I pray he is recovering well from surgery.  I pray that he experience being NED (no evidence of disease) for a period of time.  I continue to lift him up to the Lord – because I am not in control of his earthly life.  And I vow to continue to be strong for him, to stand beside him, to tend to whatever his needs are in the short and long term.  “In sickness and in health, for good or for bad.”  Before George heads in to surgery I will hold his hand and reassure him that I love him and I will wait for him and I will be there for him.  I will reassure him that all will be well and not let him see any doubt or fear.  I will believe that for him because in this moment he finds it difficult to believe. And when I am weak, I know that I have so many faithful prayer warriors lifting me up and lifting him up, they will help carry us through whatever lies ahead. That is what LOVE is all about.

The “C” Word - The Next Chapter, Day 24 - Preparations

The past few days have been difficult as noted in my previous blog.  I sit and watch helplessly as George goes back and forth to the bathroom.  I see him becoming more anxious.  I note that he looks rather sorrowful or depressed or concerned.  I can see the physical discomfort he is going through.

And I am making notes about what needs to take place over the next few days both at home and at work.  What do I need to get accomplished at work to prepare other staff to cover for me while I am gone.  What do I want to take with me to keep me busy in the waiting room on Wednesday.  What do I need to bring with me once I start staying at the hospital. 

And I contemplate all the “what ifs” that can take place during and after surgery.  Just what will need to take place?  What happens if….during surgery?  What will George be like after surgery?  While we all pray for a successful surgery and faster recovery – I also know that God doesn’t always answer prayers the way we expect. 

So… I pray… a lot… and I listen to my Christian music on my iPod or iPhone. I find peace and hope and power when I tune out all else and just let myself listen or sing to the words of God given to the musicians who make this beautiful music. I sing for joy and I cry in humbleness. I looked for some new songs to add to my favorites list.  And I found one that is absolutely my new favorite.  It is titled Here as in Heaven and is sung by a group called Elevation Worship. 

Here are the Lyrics:

The atmosphere is changing now
For the spirit of the Lord is here
The evidence is all around
That the spirit of the Lord is here

Overflow in this place
Fill our hearts with your love
Your love surround us
You're the reason we came
To encounter your love
Your love surround us

Spirit of God fall fresh on us
We need your presence
Your kingdom come
Your will be done
Here as in heaven

A miracle can happen now
For the spirit of the Lord is here
The evidence is all around
That the spirit of the Lord is here

I pray for a miracle, Lord.  May we feel your spirit in our home for the next few days.  Make your presence known in the operating room.  Make your presence known with all who come in contact with George or myself during our hospital stay.  You already know the outcome and I am doing my best to turn all of my fears and anxieties over to you.  Hear my prayers.

If you choose to hear this lovely song, here is the link.  Just close your eyes and listen.  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a0C_lPro_xk

The “C” Word - The Next Chapter, Day 22 - Feeling helpless

The one thing that most spousal caregivers, and probably all caregivers regardless of relationship to the patient, is the feeling of helplessness.  We watch our loved one suffer from a myriad of symptoms over the course of time.  Some are not too bad – and others are just wretched. 

For the most part, George was “asymptomatic” of disease prior to the initial diagnosis.  Since his first surgery, he has had issues, but still remained asymptomatic – until June of this year when he experienced bouts of nausea and vomiting.  That was worrisome for both of us.

Over the course of the past few years, however, I have watched a once creative and talented man unable to participate in projects he once loved to do.  The lack of physical stamina has taken a toll on him.  He is tired just about all of the time. 

On the day he had his kidney stone attack which led to this PMP diagnosis we had just purchased wood for a major project, a double Adirondack chair.  That wood still sits, untouched, in the garage.  We move it from side to side on occasion to access the cabinets that it is leaning against.  Other than that, it is so far outside the realm of what he can do that we don’t know if he will ever get back to it.  He has managed just a couple of very small projects in the past 8 months or so – but even those had to be done in small segments. 

Most days he sits in his recliner, reading the news on his iPad, maybe watching a television show or having the TV on for background noise.  A quick errand here and there.  But mostly, he has only the energy to sit.  He “complains” that he is tired of being tired.  He is tired of the sometimes incessant trips to the bathroom as he juggles anti-diarrheal medications.  In June he experienced such severe bouts of vomiting and nausea that he has cut way back on eating. Sometimes he fears eating because he doesn’t know if it will stay “in” and sometimes when he eats he just doesn’t feel so great. In fact, he has noticeably lost more weight in just the past two weeks.  Verification is shown on the scale which shows he has lost at least 10 pounds in that short amount of time.  It is a horrible time for him.  He doesn’t feel he can go too far from the house because he never knows when he will need the bathroom.  He went with the granddaughters and myself to the movies yesterday even though he wasn’t really feeling too well.  He had to get up three times to use the restroom. 

When we see other people, friends at church, etc., they will all say he “looks good”.  His color is good, he is pretty lean these days - - but that is on the outside.  On the inside he is waging war with this incredibly hard disease.  At home he is tired, he is frustrated at his lack of being able to do just about anything, he is quiet.  There are moments of laughter sprinkled here and there.  I can tell he is trying not to let this consume him, but it does consume him. 

And I feel so helpless sometimes.  I mean, I know that my physical presence brings him much comfort.  I know that he enjoys having his “bad arm” massaged (the one that suffered the most after his neck surgery) and having me rub his forehead to help him get to sleep.  But I can offer no comfort from the rage of diarrhea or vomiting when they occur.  I can do nothing to ease the belly pain or the exhaustion. 

I imagine it is the same for many others who are taking care of loved ones.  I take note of other husbands and wives on our PMP Facebook group who are in the end stages with their spouses.  They vent their sorrows and fears with the group as their battle is waged with rounds of chemo (there are different diagnosis where chemo is done before and/or after HIPEC) or as they slowly lose their battle with this disease.  My heart goes out to them.  Their battle seems tougher than mine and I suppose I should be grateful for that.  In reality, no battle is any less nor any harder than the other.  They are all difficult and complex. 

I have to remind myself to turn my feelings over to God to handle.  Any fears or frustrations I may be experiencing – I have to give them up and just know that He will never give us more than we can handle.  Sometimes it just feels like he piles more on than is necessary!  (And I believe the phrase a friend from church used recently is along the lines of:  I just wish God didn't have so much confidence in what I can handle!)

The “C” Word - The Next Chapter, Day 18 - New Friends and Old Friends

We live in such a digital age these days that you can make new friends in a virtual world around the world.  But there is so much more to relationships that you can only achieve true friendship when you have a "live” connection to them.  Then, the relationship becomes much more personal. 

We have both been part of a Facebook Group for just over a year.  I don’t think we found this group until well after George’s surgery.  Someone happened to mention it in another support group that is run my Team Inspire (online).  As part of this group we see daily postings from others with this rare cancer (PMP) and hear from both survivors and caregivers as well as newly diagnosed persons.  It is a very supportive environment where one can ask questions, pose thoughts, rant about the latest symptoms, etc. and where others will understand what you are going through.  BUT – in some ways one still feels rather isolated. 

To reduce that, George and I have reached out to a few others over the past year.  One is a couple from Tennessee that we have spoken to on the phone.  Another was local and had surgery at Kaiser just up the street.  But there are no local support groups for people with “our” kind of cancer.  I’ve attended a caregiver support group locally, but so many of those are dealing with “regular” cancers for lack of a better word.  And many of the ones that were in the group when I went were dealing with end stage cancers.  I just couldn’t identify with them.  My husband had ONE surgery, ONE chemo treatment during surgery.  And he lost a LOT of organs in that process.  BUT – he was doing pretty well and was on the uphill of the surgery.  Very hard to identify with others in the group.

For that reason I reached out to others both in the Facebook group and the Team Inspire group – and was so grateful that I got some responses.  A meeting was held this past weekend in Stockton which appeared to be about the middle distance for those attending.  Pam from Sacramento, Lindsey from Stockton and Judy from Livermore made their way to the restaurant on Saturday (which also happened to be George’s birthday).  Pam and Judy brought their spouses.  We ended up being in our own room at the restaurant for which we were grateful.  Our waiter, Billy, was so great.  He kept coming in to get our orders but we spent so much time talking and getting acquainted that we did not even look at the menus!.  At one point he came in the room and stopped at the head of the table.  I stopped the group and said “I think he has a question to ask” and he said, “No, I don’t, actually.  I was interested in your conversation.  You see, my uncle died of cancer last year.  And, years back I had a health issue and was told I would never walk well again.  But I went online and found a doctor in Malaysia and he talked about doing yoga, etc. and here I am walking!”  Praise!!  So he was quite content that it was nearly 1 ½ hours before we even ordered our dinner. He checked in on everyone periodically for drinks.  He was tipped well!

Anyway – we spent three hours at the restaurant sharing ideas, thoughts and stories.  Pam, Lindsey and George had already experienced the HIPEC.  Judy has had CRS but not the HIPEC yet, she is scheduled to have that in September with Dr. Lowy in San Diego.  The three who have had HIPEC shared how they are feeling, physically and mentally, and discovered that they “are not crazy”.  Much of what they feel is universal.  A pinch here, a lump there, fatigue or lack of stamina, all seem to be normal after affects.  We were able to provide information to Judy and her husband.  They were surprised to hear that it will take much longer to recover from the HIPEC than the debulking part of the surgery.  And we let Judy’s husband know that she will look very “inflated” after surgery because of all the fluids they pump through the system.  But not to worry, it is temporary. 

It felt so good to be in a room with others who “got it”.  Especially the survivors.  They will say that no one, not even the spouses, really understand what it is they feel.  No one except someone else who has experienced it.  Yes, it was so good to meet these others in person.  Now we really feel connected.  We have finally met other survivors of this horrible disease.  And we plan on doing this perhaps twice a year and have an opportunity to meet others in the area.

From there we stopped in to see Stephanie and Justin.. and then on to see George’s longtime friends, Larry and Betsy.  They’ve been friends for over 40 years.  We spent the evening talking to them and visiting, went to church with them on Sunday morning and then to breakfast.  Dear friends, longtime friends, cherished friends.  We so appreciate those relationships that have stood the test of time, that have not wavered through all the personal changes that have occurred over the years.  The type of friendship where you can discuss just about anything.  There is much comfort in those relationships. 

Healthwise things appeared to turn a corner over the weekend.  George’s bathroom trips started to decrease.  I suggested he add in another Immodium during the day and that appears to have helped.  I think he is also decreasing one of the meds that he was given as we saw the surgeon as well.  That combination appears to have made life a little more comfortable.

We now have his “love buttons”, the grandkids, Addy and Bella here for the week.  A good distraction for him as they are his for the day!  He takes them to vacation Bible school in the morning and then on an excursion in the afternoon.  Yesterday it was swimming day at Uncle Keith’s.  Today it is NASA out at Moffett Field. 

We have one week left until surgery #2.  The next four days will be full of time with family and friends.  And then, the quiet times begin and anxiety will slowly take over as the “elephant in the room” takes up residence.  But, for now, we will enjoy some good times 

The “C” Word - The Next Chapter, Day 12 - Sometimes A Prayer Will Do

This week, rather than walk the treadmill at the gym after doing my weight work out, I decided to walk around the neighborhood.  It is a much nicer walk and I get some fresh air.  It also gives me the opportunity to have time to think and process life’s events without the distraction of others around me.  I put in my ear buds, turn on my iPod and listen to soundtracks that I love.  My playlist is called “Easy Listening” and has a myriad of songs ranging from the 60’s through near current – groups such as The Eagles, Neil Diamond, Elton John, The Carpenters, Barry Manilow, Celtic Woman, Il Divo, Josh Groban, Hillsong, Twila Paris.  You can see it is quite an eclectic group ranging from some classic players to Christian singers.  I use the shuffle feature so I never know what is coming up next.

I end all of my workouts (I do Pilates on the days I don’t go to the gym so I try to get 5 or 6 days of some sort of activity) by searching for a Christian song which then ends with me on my knees in prayer.  These days I pray long and hard for George and all that he is enduring, I pray for the “lost” daughter, lost to us at this point in our lives.  I pray for each of our other daughters, their spouses and their families.  I pray for all who are suffering, especially those who have PMP.  I lift up those who have lost their battles recently. 

Today, the song that popped up on my song list was “Sometimes a Prayer Will Do”.  I had to hit the repeat button because it was so lovely.  It speaks to me. I have absolute faith that we will get through these uncertain times.  However, I also know that sometimes God answers in ways we do not understand.  I try my best to be positive, to know that this latest journey is merely a bump in the road.  I pray that George comes out on “the other side” of the surgery cancer free.  I don’t believe that God using him here on earth.  So, today, just like every other day, I pray.  On my knees… I pray. 

Sometimes A Prayer Will Do

Sometimes we stumble
Sometimes we even fall
And we can't find a friend
Can't comprehend it all
And we are lost
With nothing to hold on to
When we can't find the answer
Sometimes a prayer will do
And though we wonder
Uncertain if we will get through
To face the future
Sometimes a prayer will do
Sometimes we reach
for what's not really there
Sometimes we lose our grip
Come tumbling through midair
And we are searching
For something to hold on to
When we can't find the answer
Sometimes a prayer will do
And though we wonder
Uncertain if we will get through
To face the future
Sometimes a prayer will do
Yeah, we are stronger
Somehow we know we will get through
To face the future
Sometimes a prayer will do
Sometimes a prayer will do

If you would like to listen to this version sung by Celtic Woman, put this link in your browser.  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J0nqQIBpkyU

The “C” Word - The Next Chapter, Day 10 - Freedom

Definition for freedom:

NOUN

1.         The state of being free or at liberty rather than in confinement or under physical restraint: He won his freedom after a retrial.

2.         Exemption from external control, interference, regulation, etc.

3.         The power to determine action without restraint.

4.         Political or national independence.

5.         Personal liberty, as opposed to bondage or slavery: a slave who bought his freedom.

Today is the 4^th of July – known as Independence Day.  This day was set aside in the U.S. to observe the freedoms that came from being independent of another nation.  It was a hard fought battle for us to get to that point.

It continues to be a battle, more so in recent years as there are almost daily attacks on our freedom around the globe and, unfortunately, also on our own turf.  We continue to fight for the freedoms such as religious, speech, and so on. 

Another definition of freedom is defined as “personal liberty”.  I could translate that as “freedom of responsibility”.  This was the case for me when Mom was recently moved to a memory care facility.  I cannot express what it felt for me to be free of the responsibility of caring for her on a daily basis.  The relief was instantaneous.  The burden of care lifted from that “simple” act felt as if tons of weight had been lifted from my shoulders.  Co-workers and clients noticed that I acted differently (something I was not even aware of).  Sometimes having responsibilities shifting to another can be freeing!

Yet another definition of freedom is “exemption from external control, interference….”  That is what we are personally striving for when it comes to the cancer.  We want a body free from this horrible, external force that can be, at times, so debilitating that we cannot enjoy the other freedoms mentioned above.  When every waking moment is spent internally battling the forces raging inside you cannot enjoy life itself.  Every twinge, every ache, every movement makes you wonder “Is it back?”, “Is it growing?” followed by “Will I ever feel decent again?” or “Will there ever be a day I don’t think about this?”  It tends to reign supreme over every other piece of life itself.  While we are envious of those who are NED (No Evidence of Disease), I am sure even those people are still looking over their shoulder wondering if or when it may come back. 

For every victory of freedom a hard fought battle has taken place.  No one gets to the point of victory without first going through pain, loss or hardship.  Those moments make the victory taste sweeter for, as we know, it takes the valleys of our lives to make the mountain tops feel so beautiful. 

We are currently in the valley of this cancerous journey.  The bad days are more frequent than the good days.  With surgery pending, this is going to be a long hike through the valley.  There will be moments of happy times and glimpses of the sun as we take this journey once again.  We plan on fighting as hard as we can.  With our God watching over us, we pray for healing.  We pray that someday soon George can say, “I am free!  Free at last!” of this dead disease. This would be the consummate freedom for us to have here on earth.  To be free from disease so we can get back to the process of living life to the Glory of our God