Progress

Mike was up a lot during the night, but now is on oral pain meds for the first time and those have pretty much knocked him out. He'll get a about a 10 minute nap before the Surgical Team shows up. The first Med student showed up around 5:30 and then a group of about 6 more students showed up at 6:30. The surgeon is making his way down the hall now with his entourage.

If the oral pain meds control his pain OK then the epidural will be removed today along with the catheter. Full liquids are next on the meal plan and if that goes well, he can also get rid of the IV. Things are definitely heading in the right direction.

Our personal goal was to be out of here on Wednesday. So far so good. It helps when Mike has such an amazing attitude about the entire thing. He is so upbeat and positive about the process and has kept his sense of humor in tact. He continues to amaze me, although after 18 and a half years I shouldn't be surprised.

Yesterday he was joking that I had wanted a few days away just the two of us - laying around in bed, room service. I added that the tropical air was a nice touch too since he has the thermostat set to about 78 in his room.

Going through this together has brought us closer, I think. Just when I think things have never been better, it gets better. It's funny how love grows and gets deeper even when you've been together as long as we have. Much of the last two years has not been fun, but even more of it has been amazing. Mike supported me during the death of my Mom while dealing with his own grief. It's give and take, but there's no keeping score. I once read something about how in a relationship one person always has to love the other person a little bit more. I don't think I agree with that, but there has to be a willingness to love the other person enough to put your own stuff aside because they need you more than you need them at that moment. Although, I'm not sure "need" is the right word either.

Mike's recovery will be slow. Although his visible wounds will heal and the pain will go away, it will take much longer for his digestive system to find it's new normal. Like everything else, we'll deal with things as they come and know that while there may be some set backs and more than a little frustration, we will come out of this stronger than ever.

One step forward, two steps back...

What a difference a few hours makes following major surgery.  Yesterday morning Mike was wowing everyone with his determination to get out of here by walking to the end of the hall and back four times before mid-afternoon.  Besides preventing blood clots, walking will help get his bowels working.  Let's just say it worked.  It's one thing to have an idea of how things will progress, but it doesn't necessarily make things any easier when it happens. 

Along with getting aquainted with his new plumbing, Mike had issues with low potassium and was running a fever.  The potassium caused his arm to swell up and he had a severe burning sensation in his hand and arm., which we were told that it is an unfortunate side-effect for some people.  There were also issues with his pain meds and trying to find a combination of things that would work best for him. After much trial and error I think he's back to what he had in the first place.

It's difficult to see Mike in pain and know there is so little I can do to help.  When I left the hospital at midnight he was doing better than he had earlier in the day. and he was sleeping again when I returned to the hospital this morning at 6, but he said he had a rough hour between 4-5.  His night nurse has some concern there may be an infection because Mike also had some cramping so they will have to do some labs to check for that.

I am trying to keep all of this seperate from the experience we had with my mom three months ago, but sometimes it's difficult.  Getting some sleep last night helped, but I know I'm still distracted and find myself having to push some of those less rational thoughts away to deal with later.  I know I still need to deal with the feelings & thoughts that I have pushed down over the last few months in order to function in the present and be fully available to Mike and the kids. 

Today though the kids will go back home with Mike's mom and do all of the things 6 & 7 year old kids should do, like Scouts, school, ballet, play with friends.  My Dad will head back to Minnesota today and I will stay with Mike.  We wanted the kids to be able to see Mike this weekend and know that he is OK, but it will be good to not have to worry about them.  Hanging out in a hospital is no fun for anyone and they've had more than their fair share of it.

Overachiever

The wait is on now for Mike's bowels to start working.  In less than 5 hours following surgery he walked to the door of his room.  Six hours after that we walked down the hall together.  When the docs and day nurses did their rounds this morning and told him he would need to walk today there was some surprise that he already had.  I guess he's above average, but of course, I already knew that.

I am not the least bit surprised that Mike is determined to get better as quickly as possible.  If moving around more will kick things into gear then that's what he's going to do despite any pain he feels.  As he puts it, "there are sick people here" and he doesn't plan on sticking around any longer than necessary.

Being an hour from home is tricky.  I have two hotel rooms in town for my Dad, Mike's mom and the kids.  With Mike's last surgery I stayed overnight in his room every night, but the room here is so tiny, that although I would be allowed to stay I'm not sure there is actually room for me to sleep unless it's in a folding chair.  Instead I stayed until about 10pm, went to the hotel for a few hours of sleep and returned to the hospital at 5am.  I am quite thankful there is a 24 hour Starbucks between the hotel and hospital!

Today the kids will visit in the morning and then Dad will take Cal back home for a birthday party.  Not sure what the rest of the weekend will look like for them, but it is such a huge help to have Dad and my mother-in-law here to help with the kids.  Just another one of the many things I am grateful for.

I've also thought about my Mom a lot.  Yesterday was three months to the day that she was taken off of life-support.  I've wondered about the concept of having the person that died "with you" or "watching over you".  It sounds good in theory, but I have never really had a tangible feeling of Mom being with me.  I think was expecting something more concrete rather than simply a sense of her being here. Like an obvious shift of some kind that she's making an "appearance".  I've come to the conclusion, at least for me, that Mom being with me is a constant not something that just happens when I face a difficult situation like Mike's surgery.  She's with me when I am relaxed and happy just as much as when I'm anxious or worried.  I guess it's similar to the same sense I have that God is always with me.  I miss Mom and wish so much that she was still physically here, but I'll have to accept on faith that she IS still with me.

Good-bye colon

What an immense relief that surgery is over and everything went perfectly!  Turned out that the surgeon did not construct a "j pouch" after all.  Apparently the way Mike's small intestine was "tethered" during his first partial colectomy prevented it.  Fortunately, the surgeon was able to keep all of the rectum and could attach the small intestine directly to it, which he feels will serve Mike better anyway.

Regardless, it will be a rough 3-6 months while his body adjusts to life without a colon.  Nothing we can't handle though.  While the threat of colon cancer gone, Mike will still have to be screened regulary for other Lynch Related cancers. However, none are anywhere near as high a risk as the 80% chance for colon cancer.  I still feel the same way I did 18 months ago when we were first told Mike had cancer.  If this was all going to happen to someone, it might as well be us.  We'll be fine.  We will get through this together.

I don't know how many times someone has told me that we have had more than our share of crappy deals over the last two years.  Sure, there are days I want nothing more than to crawl under the nearest rock and stay there for a really long time.  Sometimes it takes a conscious effort to not shut down and there are days I know I'm struggling to keep it together.  I also know, even when things are at their worst that it WILL get better.  The saying "one day at a time" just doesn't always cut it.  Sometimes it's "one hour at a time" or even "one minute at a time".  But, it does get better eventually.  I also know that someone else always has it worse than I do.  My life is blessed in so many ways and when I'm in the middle of my own pity party I have to remind myself of that.

How time flies...

I would say, how times flies when you're having fun, but that would be a bit of a stretch.  Yes there have been fun times, but like everything else in life the not so great stuff has a way of reminding me that I never know what's coming next.  It has been more than 5 months since I last posted and yet again it seems that a lifetime has happened in that amount of time. 

When all of this started with Mike, writing on this blog was an enormous relief for me.  I had support from friends and family, but unless your husband is diagnosed with cancer and then with a heriditary genetic reason for getting cancer in the first place I don't think anyone can truly understand.  They can empathize and love you and support you, but can only imagine what it must be like.

The Friday of Labor Day weekend, my Mom was in ICU in a drug induced coma on a ventilator & feeding tube only three weeks after we had all been together in San Diego for a family vacation.  After a week of practically living at the hospital with her, my family made the selfless decision to take her off of life support.  Mom died on September 9, 2011.  I wonder why I didn't turn to the blog then like I did with Mike's diagnosis?  Maybe it was because I was surrounded by family and we were all going through the same thing together.  My brother lost his mom, my dad lost his wife of 41 years.  We all shared similar versions of the same grief and disbelief.  It could be that I just wasn't ready to share my grief with the entire world (or whatever small percentage of people I don't know that actually read this blog).

A couple of weeks after Mom died, Mike & I met with a Colorectal surgeon to discuss the pros and cons of having Mike's entire colon removed.  The surgeon's initial reaction was a very cautious "I think that's a pretty extreme way to go".  However, he did admit that Mike's case was a bit extraordinary and he wanted to discuss it with a board of his peers who are also experts in the area of colorectal surgery, colon cancer & genetics.  Several weeks later, much to our surprise, Dr Heise called to schedule surgery. 

With Lynch Syndrome Mike already has an ongoing 80% chance of getting colon cancer.  The main concern, however, is the polyp that was removed at the time of Mike's initial diagnosis.  The polyp had a very similar makeup as the primary tumor (very aggressive, high instability, etc) and was removed by traditional snaring of the polyp.  The concern is that cancer will occur in that spot, but will grow outside of the colon rather than to the interior thereby making a colonoscopy useless in detecting it.  Because it has already been almost a year and a half since it was removed, the team did not want to wait any longer than necessary to remove the rest of Mike's colon.

So, now the countdown to CR-day (colon removal).  The procedure is a subtotal colectomy with ileoanal pouch (j-pouch).  Basically the surgeon will make a resevoir (pouch) with the end of the small intestine and attach it to the rectum, which means no bag.  This will be a more indepth surgery than the first one and recovery will take longer as well.  It could be 6 months to a year for Mike's body to adjust to a new normal routine.  For a guy who works outdoors this could get interesting. 

At least we now have a "2nd bathroom" at home.  OK, that's a HUGE stretch.  What we have is a 5-gallon bucket in the basement with a toilet seat attached to it.  Fortunately the kids are still young enough to think it's a pretty cool set-up.  Yep, the fun never ends around here.

Living with Lynch Syndrome

The conference Mike and I attended this weekend was both hopeful and realistic.  The amount of information was a bit overwhelming at times, but helped to put into perspective the reality of living with Lynch Syndrome.  To be in a room with nearly 100 other people that have been touched by LS and know that they ALL completely understand what you have gone through and will continue to go through is pretty amazing.  Being able to have a conversation with someone about LS without their eyes glazing over is tremendously supportive.

We learned that Lynch tumors grow differently than non-Lynch tumors, that polyps associated with Lynch are often different than regular polyps, and how treatment varies based on whether the cancer is Lynch related.  The other thing I learned is just how resilient this community of people can be.  It was not unusual to hear of people having several incidents of colon cancer, followed by two other cancers associated with Lynch.  Yet they are still alive because of strict surveillance and having doctors who knew what to look for.

On the other hand, even with surveillance there are stories of people being diagnosed with Stage III colon cancer even after getting yearly colonoscopies.

This conference was also the kick in the butt we needed to get more proactive in Mike's care.  It's easy to get complacent, even about Lynch Syndrome, when the rest of life continues on as normal.  While I am grateful to live in the community we do and that we were able to be close to our support system during Mike's surgery and recovery last year, I also know that we need to look beyond Dodgeville if we are to do everything we can to keep Mike cancer-free.

We have decisions to make in regard to how we proceed.  The prescribed treatment for Lynch Syndrome is removal of the entire colon. In addition, a woman should have a hysterectomy including ovaries and fallopian tubes just as soon as she is done having children.  These are enormous life-changing decisions.  Deciding when to have our children tested is huge too.  One one hand if they are both negative for Lynch we breathe a huge sigh of relief with the knowledge that they are at no higher risk for colon cancer than the general population.  But, what if one or both are positive?  I'm not ready for that answer yet.  The idea of my kids having to live with this breaks my heart. 

One story was of a dad that had colon cancer and based on some family history genetic testing was done.  The results indicated that he had Lynch Syndrome.  At that point his three children were also tested.  One daughter was negative, but his son and other daughter are positive.  Shortly after confiming that she too had Lynch, his daughter had her first colonoscopy.  At age 27, she had colon cancer.  Had her dad not undergone the genetic testing for Lynch, his daughter would not have undergone a colonoscopy.  Her dad saved her life because he agreed to a simple blood test.

Connecting with extended family and encouraging everyone to be tested is the only way to keep this under some semblance of control. Knowledge is power. In the case of Lynch Syndrome, ignorance is not bliss - ignorance is often fatal.


I HATE, HATE, HATE Lynch Syndrome.  I HATE that my husband has Lynch Syndrome.  I HATE that my kids might have Lynch Syndrome.  I HATE that Mike's siblings might have Lynch Syndrome. 

But, I am so grateful that we know about Lynch Syndrome.

Time Goes On

It's hard to believe it has been almost a year since Mike was diagnosed with colon cancer.  To see him now one would never know how sick he was last year.  He has the physical scars from surgery and the chemo port (which he never needed to use, thank God), and although cancer is now a part of who we are as a family it isn't ALL we are.


On Saturday we will attend a conference about living with Lynch Syndrome.  This comes exactly 51 weeks to the day of Mike's first colonoscopy.  Since then he has had surgery to remove 1/3 of his colon, a colonoscopy in December that came back clear and an abdominal MRI this spring that showed all is still clear.  Plus he ran faster for his Air Force annual PT this year than he did TWO years ago before all of this started.  So, why does the anniversary bring up the fear again?  There are no indications at all that Mike is anything but completely healthy yet I can feel it creeping in.  I know it's a normal reaction - the anniversary of anything traumatic can bring those feelings back.


Overall life is good.  My family is healthy and we are stronger for what we have gone through.  I'm grateful that we know Lynch was the cause and we can be prepared even with the uncertainty of when colon cancer will rear it's ugly head again.  It's not a pessimistic view, just realistic.  The likelihood of it happening is high, but we know it will be caught early and taken care of when it happens.

April 19, 2011

It's been almost two months since I posted.  I think about posting now and then, but life has a way of moving on and that's a good thing. 

Yesterday Mike had a blood draw to check his CEA (carcinoembryonic antigen) levels.  An increased level can indicate the presence of cancer, but not always.  When Mike was originally diagnosed, his level was in the normal range.  We'll find out the results next week when we meet with the oncologist again.  This will be our first meeting with him since it was confirmed that Mike has Lynch Syndrome. 

Some of the questions we need to ask: What type of surveillance needs to be done and how often?  Should we have the kids tested now and do it anonymously or wait and let them decide when they're older?  If we have the kids tested now, will it really make a difference in how we proceed from here?  They are obviously at risk because Mike has Lynch so early screenings will happen anyway.  However, if they are negative for Lynch then they have the same risk as the rest of the population for getting colon cancer and wouldn't need to have such an early colonoscopy at 25 or younger.  What can we tell Mike's family, especially siblings, so they can make their own informed decision about testing?

Then there's Mike feeling tired.  There's a logical explanation because it's fire season.  He's been doing prescribed burns for the last month, which means long hours and a lot of physical work, not to mention the smoke.  But, there's still the little nagging voice in my head that tells me to look at him closer.  Last year I didn't notice that he was getting paler and paler.  When you see someone every day and you aren't looking for obvious signs that he isn't well, it's easy to miss.  Now I look.  When he says he isn't very hungry or that he feels full after eating only half of a meal, I'm reminded of last year.  For about two months before we found out he had cancer, he complained about feeling full even though he hadn't eaten very much.  It's hard not to go there and think about the worst. 

Next Wednesday can't come soon enough.  I want to know what we do next.  There was talk about doing an MRI sometime in June or July, but that was before Lynch.  Maybe the onc will schedule it sooner.  Maybe Mike will have a colonoscopy in June instead of December.  After his December colonoscopy came back clean he was told he didn't need another one for a year.  That was before Lynch.

Yep, life keeps moving on.  Then when you least expect it, the past sneaks back in.

Birthdays

Tomorrow our son turns 7 years old.  How is that possible?  There are some things that are so easy to recall even now.  How amazed I was when I saw the positive result on the pregnancy test on our 10th wedding anniversary.  The look on Mike's face when I told him and our subsequent debate over whether or not to go to the water park like we had planned to celebrate our anniversary.  After all, there are signs all over the park stating that pregnant women "should not ride".  How pregnant is too pregnant for a water slide?  We went and had a great time.

I also clearly remember the night that we burned out the motor on our vacuum cleaner when we let it run for "white noise" in an attempt to get Cal to stop crying. 

We've been through an overnight hospital stay for bowl obstruction with Cal, ongoing ear infections that finally resulted in him getting tubes, and "Blue Dog" going MIA for two weeks.  We've had to get rid of "worry monsters" and work through school anxieties. 

Somehow in those seven years, Cal has become this amazing kid despite his parent's short comings.  He is compassionate and sensitive, can be totally halarious, loves to read, is sometimes too smart for his own good and fully immerses himself in whatever he happens to be interested in at the moment. 

There is no way to prepare yourself for being a parent.  Books can only tell you so much, well meaning friends or family can give you advice, but it's your own heart that really tells you what is right for you and your child.  When I slow down enough to listen, Cal can teach me something new every single day.

Somehow it's easy to doubt myself when it comes to how I interact with my kids.  But, when I really think about it, we must be doing something right.  We've been honest with the kids about Mike's cancer.  By keeping that dialogue going we will also talk with them about Lynch Syndrome when the time feels right.

Last week I was in New Orleans for the 5th time since Hurricane Katrina hit the Gulf area. I spent a week painting the inside of a house owned by a woman with a 15 year old son. Estelle had just purchased her home and was in the process of moving in when she was forced to evacuate. Estelle and her son, who was just 10 years old at the time, have never lived in their home. For more than 5 years they have gone back and forth between the FEMA trailer in the front yard, her mom's house in a nearby neighborhood and Baton Rouge where Estelle found a job following Katrina. Five years of slowly putting a house together that sustained wind and flood damage. Five years after dealing with corrupt contractors that took advantage of so many people following the hurricane. Yet, this is her home - that's why she slowly rebuilds.  She is doing the best she can for her son with what she has.  That's all any of us can do.  

Happy Birthday Cal.  I love you forever and always, no matter what.

January 24, 2011

I just found out yesterday that one of my childhood friends has breast cancer.  It's funny,if it weren't for Facebook, I would have no connection with her at all, yet she always had words of encouragement during Mike's battle.  She is one month older than I am, has two young kids and is way too young for this.  However, she also has an amazing attitude that will carry her through this ordeal and bring her out on the other side stronger than ever.


Cancer sucks and it doesn't play fair.

January 24, 2011

Finally feeling a bit more normal again after the Lynch confirmation last week.  One thing I've noticed is that I have a definite pattern with all of this.  The first couple of days are really rough, feeling kind of numb and looking for the nearest rock to crawl under.  Then by day 3 or 4 more rational thinking comes back a bit and I start gathering more information about what exactly we're facing.  By day 7 I feel like I have mostly adjusted to yet another new normal.


That isn't to say I don't still have moments when I just want it to all go away.  It's easy to fall into that spiral of not wanting to accept any of it.  If I kick and scream long enough it will all go away.  But, like I tell my daughter, "has that EVER worked for you?"


Mike and I continue to absorb all we can from whatever resources we can find about Lynch Syndrome.  All of it at this point comes from information we find on-line.  I haven't read so many scientific journal articles since I was in grad school!  We grab onto the positive stuff we find, like a person with colon cancer caused by Lynch has a higher survival rate than a colon cancer not caused by Lynch.  


Actually, I don't think I'm so much afraid of cancer taking over Mike's body (well, I feel that way today, anyway).  It's the uncertainty and all of the unanswered questions that gets to me.  Colon cancer caused by Lynch Syndrome is also known as Hereditary Nonpolyposis Colon Cancer (HNPCC).  The nonpolyposis (no-polyps) means that cancer can just start on its own.  In the majority of non-Lynch colon cancers it starts with a polyp, which can be removed before they cause problems.  With HNPCC there isn't always the "luxury" of having a polyp.  Just *BAM* there's cancer.


So, we continue to gather information, make up our list of questions and wait for the final results of the genetic testing so we can move on to the next stage of this adventure.
  

Reality setting in

Mike has Lynch Syndrome.  

We knew there was a high probability, but to be told with all certainty still kind of knocks the wind out of you a bit.  Although not nearly as much as being told your husband, at age 37, has cancer.  Nothing can compete with that.

Yesterday Mike & I went to Madison so he could have another blood draw.  We had a chance to talk with Laura, the genetic counselor, and she explained why more blood was needed.  

We had originally been told (several months ago) that two of Mike's mismatch repair genes appeared to have mutations (MSH2 & MSH6) we were also told that typically MSH2 will also take out MSH6 so further testing would be done only on MSH2.  The blood taken for that was sent to Quest rather than Mayo where all of the other testing had been done.

The results of that testing done by Quest indicated a result which can often have a false positive.  In order to rule that out the same test was done at Mayo to confirm it.  Instead, Mayo found a DIFFERENT mutation right next to the one Quest found.  At this point either exon 7 is missing or exon 8 is duplicated so BOTH labs will now look for both of those mutations.  The blood draw was needed yesterday because the labs have used up all of Mike's blood from doing the previous tests.  It appears that Mike is very well known around Mayo Clinic now.  Well, his blood and mutations are anyway.

The importance of finding out exactly which mutation is involved isn't so much for Mike, but for the rest of his family and our kids.  Laura said as big of a pain as this all has been, it's actually a good thing Mayo retested for Quests findings.  Had we just gone along with the first result and assumed it was a positive-positive and not have it rechecked we could have ended up having family members being tested for a mutation that never actually existed.  The worst case would have been that genetic testing would be done on family to look for a mutation in exon 7, having everyone's results come back negative only to find out later - after someone else ends up with a Lynch cancer - that the mutation was actually in exon 8.  

Once the two labs run tests again for both exon 7 & exon 8 we will - ideally - know exactly which exon is involved.  From there we send that information to Mike's parents & siblings so if they decide on genetic testing the labs will know exactly what to look for.  A process that should only take a couple of weeks.  Not five months like it has for us.

There are a lot of issues to think about with this diagnosis and it can start to feel overwhelming (that seems to have been a pretty common feeling over these last 7 months).  What can I do to protect my family?  There is a 50% chance that Cal & Zoey also have Lynch, although we won't have them tested until they are much older.  Knowing there could be something in their DNA that makes them more susceptible to certain cancers can be terrifying.

We are fortunate that Mike has already has decent life insurance through the Air Force.  In all reality, a diagnosis of Lynch Syndrome pretty much rules you out for getting any life insurance if you aren't already insured.  We also benefit from a really good health insurance plan through Mike's employer.  We anticipate the rates going up, but at least we're insured.

There is so much more to sort through and think about.  Everything from what we are eating to what doctors Mike should have on his "team".  Is surgery something to seriously consider?  No colon = no colon cancer, but that doesn't do anything for reducing the risk of brain, skin or other Lynch cancers.

I think everyone has been touched by cancer in one way or another, but Lynch Syndrome is this other beast just lurking below the surface.  An estimated 600,000 people have Lynch, yet only about 5% know it.  Now when I hear of someone young being diagnosed with any of the "Lynch cancers", I always wonder if Lynch is responsible.

Sometimes it's hard to not let it all weigh me down.  I don't want to live in fear.  Fear of Mike getting cancer again, fear of the kids having Lynch.

I want to be proactive, but even that seems like too much to take on sometimes.  Part of me wants to throw out every single plastic item in the house because of the risk of BPA.  Get rid of everything that contains refined sugar, high fructose corn syrup and white flour.  Then I have to take a step back and acknowledge that we are already doing things to be proactive.  My kids eat whole grain wheat bread and don't complain, they have less screen time than the average kid living in the US, they typically like most fruit and many vegetables.  So if they occasionally eat a pancake wrapped sausage on a stick for breakfast will that really undo all of the good stuff?

I have a lot to think about and I know I can't change the fact my husband's colon cancer was caused by a genetic issue.  My kids either have it or they don't - I can't change that either.  What I can change is how I deal with all of it while acknowledging that despite all the positive thinking this is a really crappy thing to have to live with, but it is what it is.

Questions, Questions, Questions

This should have posted a week ago, but I couldn't access my blog!


Questions. questions, questions 

Now that Christmas and the rest of the holiday season is over, the results of the genetic testing is once again in the forefront of my mind. For the time between December 23 and January 3 it was fairly easy to not think about it because we knew nothing was going to happen during that time anyway. 

Now it's the end of the first week in January and I'm getting antsy again. I don't want to be thinking about this so much, but it just feels like things are still so unsettled. I sent an email to the genetic counselor on Wednesday, but haven't heard back. That gets frustrating as well - not getting a response. Most likely she has nothing to tell us, we are not her only clients, and no doubt there are people in more serious situations than we currently are. On the other hand - this is serious for us. Will anything change if it is finally confirmed, that yes, Mike does have Lynch? Who knows. Probably not.We have already made some changes. Did you know that the spice turmeric gives EVERYTHING a weird almost neon green/yellow hue? Yet, it is in nearly everything we prepare for dinner now because it is a potent anti-inflammatory and may help inhibit the spread of cancer. It's a minor change, but a change nontheless.This evening I decided to check out http://www.colonclub.com/ again. It's been a while since I was on their message board. Tonight I was again reminded of how fortunate I am that Mike is now healthy and that his cancer was found when it was. There was a post from a woman who was married on August 9, 2010 and on August 23 her husband was diagnosed with stage IV colon cancer. He died in his sleep early this morning and now, just 5 months after pledging to spend their lives together, she is a widow.


Who knows why things happen the way they do. I can ask all the "why" questions in the world, but never be satisfied. There are no clear answers for any of it. Now it's Friday night and I know nothing new will come up over the weekend so I will go back to my "life goes on like normal" routine until Monday morning when I again wait for the results from the genetic testing.