Happy Birthday Joey! Six years ago you made your mark on the world and the place will never be the same.

Tuesday when I got home with the kids Joe was on the phone with staff from Clinical Research at Cleveland Clinic. Plans are for us to go out the afternoon of May 26 for tests (CAT scan, blood work ect). The next day we will meet with the Clinical Research staff for what I hope is a schedule on drugs.

This will be Memorial Day weekend and our 12 year wedding anniversary weekend. Oh what fun!

Thanks to our friends M&C who bravely took our kids out for a while Friday. They took our 3 and their 2 kids for pizza and bowling. I'm told M was thrilled to have new shoes!

Happy Easter!

You will not believe this!! Joe was sleeping on the couch the night the Easter Bunny came into the living room and hid the baskets for the kids! Joe did not wake up but was a little creeped out he was in the room with the Easter Bunny.

Sunday was a big day. We all went to Easter Mass Sunday morning after the kids ate a sugar breakfast of Easter candy and waffles with M&Ms. Joe's parents joined us at Mass to help with the kids and I was thankful to actually hear part of Mass instead of drawing robots at the request of a certain 2 year old. Once we got home Joe was ready for a nap so the kids and I went to see HOP. The sign over the pictures on the wall is a Thank You note E made for the Easter Bunny.

Monday was another big day for Joe. Our friend Heather (who should start a personal shopper business) took Joe shopping for a suit. The last suit he had was 1999- 12 years and -50 pounds ago. He found what size he needs but were not able to find what he wanted. They were limited to just Elder Beerman in BG. Joe and I will look again when he is up for longer drives.

The staples came out today and we did not have to travel to the Cleveland Clinic! The urologist who first saw Joe at Wood County Hospital was able to take them out. They cleaned the area with some betadine swabs then went after all the staples. The tool crimps the staples as they are removed- not what I remember when my Mom had her back surgery in the mid 90s. It was not as painful as Joe feared. They cleaned him with some betadine swabs again, applied some steri strips and a gauze pad over the small area that seeps from time to time and we were on our way.

Joe has been able to reduce his pain pills and even take care of himself during the day (I'm still working shorter days). He even fixed his own lunch (and left the dishes for me to do!). We have not heard from the drug trail people- they are suppose to contact us. I did speak with Dr. K's PA last week and he was going to check that process. The drugs (as much as I know now) will target the renal cell carcinoma cells that may still be else where in the body. While all 10 lymph nodes removed were all clean there is still a chance some little part is trying to set up home someplace else in the body (but we are thinking positive!)

Until Joe's driving restriction is lifted (2 more weeks) he will not be doing much other than watching baseball, watching movies and reading books for his National History Day Normandy Institute. On a good day he might walk up and down the drive way some.

No easy way to say this so just going to say it. We have not used the word "cancer" when talking to the kids about this and ask others to respect that. We have just told them there was something "icky in Daddy and the doctor had to take it out". M knows that Daddy has a boo boo and he needs to be careful when sitting with him. I even feel weird using the word "cancer" because we did not know it was renal cell carcinoma until it was all removed during surgery. Yes we knew it was possible but I'm thinking positive. I see someone who has cancer as one who has to endure chemo and radiation and all the negative side effects of it. I think we got off with much less than that. I hope to just have to deal with be married to someone with one kidney and the extra caution that is with it.

Thursday J2 turns 6! SIX! VI Hard to believe it has been 6 years since our bathroom became a birthing room. Those new to our stories just know that J2 was born at home in our bathroom. I would need a whole blog to tell that story.

Sunday E has her First Communion. We are looking forward to her special day.

I counted 41 staples today. I was always guessing 20 so it was surprising there were so many.

Posted by Joe on his FB 4/19/11

I was waiting for him to say things in his own words because he is so good at it.-Katie

We shall not cease from exploration

And the end of all our exploring

Will be to arrive where we started

And know the place for the first time.

--T.S. Eliot, Little Gidding

Overwhelming. If there’s one word I keep coming back to the journey of the past three weeks, it is ‘overwhelming.’ I can’t describe a lot of what has happened physically, psychologically, and spiritually over the past few weeks without using that word.

The lab results confirmed what was suspected in the CT scans; that the football-sized mass of starboard kidney, tumor, lymph nodes, adrenal gland, and fatty tissue taken out of my abdomen was, in fact, cancerous. You hold out hope right until the word comes out of his mouth – I can’t even explain it. Inside, I knew it was – hell, they told me it almost certainly was! It was certainly no surprise, in the technical sense of the word. But for the word ‘malignant’ to actually be used – well, it’s overwhelming. Even when you know it’s probably not that bad.

The lab results also showed that the cancer had NOT spread to the adrenal, to the fatty tissue, to any of the surrounding lymph nodes. These are all, to put it mildly, good things. Overwhelming things, when one thinks about what it would have meant if these neighboring tissues had, indeed, been invaded by the carcinoma. And it’s overwhelming to think of what it could mean some day; microscopic bits of cancer may still be floating around my body. And some day, they may take root in another dark little corner of my abdomen. I’ll never feel it if it happens; spinning magnets will find it in a picture, and we’ll figure out the next course of action. Absolutely overwhelming.

By Thursday, I was overwhelmed in another way, too. I had an absolutely amazing care staff at Cleveland Clinic; in particular, a nurse named Caryn. I am absolutely convinced that Caryn had more than a little of Nana’s spirit in her. On Wednesday morning, I was writhing in pain. She asked where I would rate my pain on a scale of 1-10. I told her seven. Bullshit, she said, your face says nine or 10. Where some of the nurses had taken care of me, Caryn took command of my care. She got my painkillers changed, and life in hospital got just a little more tolerable. She brought me grape popsicles, and made me smile.

That Friday, I dipped again – an overwhelming crush of being weaned off of the painkillers, and a complete lack of sleep. And the overwhelming support of friends and family made it all right again. More on that in a minute. But there was light at the end of the tunnel – it was decided that Saturday would be my release day, and I was most assuredly done with being in the hospital. Saturday, Katie and my mom and dad came back, and I was sprung from the Clinic a little after lunch, slept most of the way home, and frankly, I remember little else from the massive doses of painkiller they threw down the hatch before the long drive home.

Overwhelming, too, has been a very real spiritual presence in my darkest moments. Father Mark, and our friend Dee, describe it as taking in a big breath of God. My friend Kate describes it as breathing in a purifying light, and exhaling darkness. Again, it’s difficult for me put into words, but I know it and feel it when it happens. Father Mark encouraged me to think of it this way: If we accept that there are only two equal and opposite emotions, love and fear; and then accept that God is love; then the only prayer that makes sense when we feel fear is a prayer for the presence of God, who is love. Whether it’s God, the human spirit, or however you choose to conceptualize it, it’s been a very real presence for me in a manner I can only describe as, well, overwhelming.

Overwhelming in ways I can’t describe has been the depth I have found in relationships with my family throughout the past three weeks. Intangible things, relationships are, and in our relationships is that common thread of love. The past three weeks have taught me just how deep my family’s love for me is. My cousin Marybeth visited me every single day, even when I didn’t know she was there sometimes! My mom and dad have just been there every step of the way, with support and encouragement, with laughs, and with score updates when I couldn’t get the Indians games at the hospital. My sister, I simply don’t know if I’ll ever be able to repay. She was at my side every day, and was a pitbull to chase off the legion of housekeepers, student nurses, and nurses’ aides when I had a meltdown. She was there for everything. And reconnecting in a deeper way with my friend, and my brother (and her husband), Aaron, is a gift indescribable. But most importantly, I learned something about marriage over the past three weeks. Just as the words ‘support and defend’ took on a new and deeper meaning for people in the military just after 9/11, so too did the ‘sickness and health’ part of our marriage vows since this all began. Katie has been stronger than I could ever imagine being if our roles were reversed; she seems to be in 100 places at once in managing the logistics of child movement, maintaining her career, and taking care of me until I’m mostly vertical again. I always felt like I couldn’t love her more after our Encounter retreat three years ago this month, but I was wrong. My love and admiration for her could not be stronger than they are right now.

Most overwhelming, though, has been the love and support from all of you. Your comments on FB and the blog, your phone calls, your letters, have buoyed my spirits when they needed buoying. Those of you who are cancer survivors, you simply can’t know how much your counsel and courage has meant to me. Those who visited me in the hospital – Kennedy, Tom, Brandon, Ross, Janet, Uncle Bob, Ginster, Rick, Bets, Danny, Christine, Erik, Kim, Jessie – I may not remember a lot of details from when you came, but I remember that you came, and that meant everything as my mind wandered into dark little corners. Since I’ve been home, the companionship during the day has made life not just physically easier, but psychologically easier as I’ve had someone to talk with every day, and keep my spirits high. I’ve had more laughs than one should have with Peters and Randy the past two days (Randy, my side still hurts from the flying phone incident), and I have no doubt that’ll continue with Aunt Eileen, Mike, and Lisa the rest of the week. The meals you all have made; the contributions my coworkers made in the form of gas cards that allowed Katie and Mom and Dad to make the trips out to Cleveland in the face of high gas prices; and my legion of prayer partners – well, I think the Dropkick Murphys may have put it best, “thethoughts and prayers of a million strong might keep this fool from dying.”

So has this been overwhelming? You’d better believe it. As Kate W. said the day we went out for the consult, ‘This is going to change your life.” I am just smart enough to know that I’m just seeing the beginning of those changes. There are so many things I hope never to take for granted again, and all of your love and friendship is damn near the top of that list. My friend Kristin always had a signature line from Walt Whitman, “I no doubt deserved my enemies, but I don’t believe I deserved my friends.” I feel that saying in my bones tonight.

I hopefully fixed the issue some were having with comments.

Catheter removed- check

Walking the halls- check

Pain pump removed- check

Eating- check

One gnarly scar- check

Thursday

At 1pm Thursday my schedule opened up so I took off for Cleveland. I did not tell Joe I was coming because I knew he would say no. Kathy has been with him most of the time and she knew I was coming. He was sleeping when I got there so I visited with Christine, Joe's cousin's wife, and Kathy. Friends Kim and Eric stopped by. Many stories were shared from Joe's BG News and Ft. Wayne Journal Gazette days.

Earlier in the day the bandages were removed from Joe's abdomen. Dr. W removed the bandages by ripping them off all at once causing Joe much pain. He also had made the 5 walks in the hall requested by the staff and trips to the bathroom.

The kids and I were planning to go out tonight but since it looks like Joe will be discharged Saturday we are going to wait. I'll make the trip on Saturday to bring him home. The kids will be disappointed but it will be better if it is just Joe and I. Three kids in the van for 2.5 hours when one has not had major surgery is hard so for the safety of all it will just be Joe and I.

No concrete pathology reports from Dr. K yet but someone from his staff checked on Joe and used phrases like "got it all" and "looks good". I hope to get firm results today.

I just spoke with Joe (I'm back in BG). They changed his pain meds from fentanyl to dilaudid. He is a little nauseous- could be from the med change. He has not had food yet.

He sat in the chair for 30 minutes and took a walk from his bed to the door of his room. Running a 5K again is not far off.