...should I start a podcast?

Ha!  I was told by a few people this past year that I had a lot to say and therefore should consider starting a podcast. Say WHAT? I do like to hear myself talk, but is what I am listening to really very good to hear? Does my rambling have merit? And, finally, would anyone care?

I thought about it.  I thought:  What would I call it? Would I have a "theme?" What would I need to start a podcast? And...how often would I cast the pod into the world?  Well, it was way too many questions to answer all at once, so I quit thinking about it.  Now, after considerable time has passed, I am once again thinking...about it. Here's what I think.

I'm not a fashionista and could care less about being fashion-forward.  Heck, I barely like clothes so that leaves fashion out.  Makeup?  Who cares if you wear it or not; so not a fashion pod.  Advise to the love lorn?  Nah.  Where did those revelations lead?  I'll tell ya.  You ready?  Well...no, I don't want to let the title out of the bag until I am ready to go-live.

So, maybe I do have a lot to say and if I think about it, maybe it will even be a bit intelligent. At any rate, I am going to blog and pod my way through the universe.

What is ....title deleted...?  It's exactly as it is stated.  I get to ramble about what interests me in the universe and in life.  Now, I may select material from others and if I do so, I will pay homage to them; I'm not a thief, afterall. But, sometimes, what I hear or see from others is just better than anything I could come up with.  I will add my own take on their work and hopefully, if the borrowed thoughts are not proprietary, and I use them..they will be enriched by my spin. Who knows, right?

When will this casting of said pod take place?  It's now the middle of September 2019 and I must wait until I do more research on equipment and then save the $$ to purchase.  I'm making an educated guess of January. Although, I may ask for some "stuff" for Christmas. Dunno. Give me a few weeks and I'll get it sorted out.  In the meantime, have a great day.

...finding Gibbs August 2018

After I returned from Italy and after John's memorial service, Tyler and I had to put Marley down.  He was suffering from a brain lesion.  He had, very quickly, gone downhill and letting him go across the Rainbow Bridge was hard; but necessary.  I grieved for him for days.  I found myself crying when I thought of him and knew that I was probably transferring my loss of John emotions onto Marley.  Oh, I cried for John, but I kept it in check.  Now, with Marley gone, I let loose with gigantic sobs that wracked my body from head to toe.  After sobbing so hard for lengths of time, my entire body was  tired and I would lie on my bed with Tucker and wonder how life got so F*d up.

Dogs have been a part of my life for as long as I can remember.  It was rare when I had just 1 dog and I wanted another Standard Poodle.  Money is always a concern and spending $2000+ on a puppy wasn't in my budget.  I decided to try to adopt.

I began trolling various Standard Poodle sights for adoptive dogs, but didn't find any that met the criteria I had in my head.  Voila!  After searching an adoption site, a link took me to a Standard Poodle adopt/re-home facebook page.  I entered my information to become a member and then entered the information about the Spoo I was looking for as well as the city area I live in.

One day later, a lady private messaged me with information about a Spoo she had to rehome.  She lived less than 10 miles from me. She sent me pictures of 2 Spoos:  1 beautiful apricot and 1 (be still my heart) a parti-color - black and white.  Gently, I asked which dog? The parti was her response.

Truth be known, I would have bee interested in the apricot as well. But, another parti would be like having Tucker twins!

My two absolutely gorgeous, always happy Spoos! Tucker on the left and newly adopted Gibbs on the right. They make my heart sing!

I think i'm moving on...but..let me check my moving-on-button and let you know...

Italy did not start out very good for me.  I kept up a happy face for me and for Linda, but I knew that I had told my family that my feet had touched down.  I knew that that was the signal to John that I was OK and he could go...pass...die..and so he did.

Our sons, and dogs were there and I was not.  Our good friends, the Martins' were there, and I was not. When I got the news, we were in Rome, the first of our destinations.  Tyler said John had gotten up the day I landed in Rome, he watched a movie, The Black Panther, he had a cup of coffee, wanted to see the outside sunshine, he wanted the dogs close. Then he simply said he was tired and wanted to go.  He told them he was happy I was in Italy and then he slipped into sleep and took his last breath the next afternoon. After hearing the news, I cried and let Linda just comfort me as only a very good friend can do.

Italy became wonderful when I was reminded by family and friends who knew us and me best:  this is what John wanted.  I struggled with this for a very long time, but have learned the truth and the totally unselfish act of John wanting me to be in Italy. Am I totally OK with it?  No; but I'm getting to the place that wherever I am suppose to be.

Home after 21 days.  The house is quiet, all rooms are normal, hospice things gone.  It's like John's illness never happened.  I'm not sure how to take it. But, I have to get back into life and get through the next few weeks and his memorial service.

Marley is sick. The day after I get home, Tyler and I took Marley in to go across that Rainbow Bridge into the place in Heaven where dogs go.  Jeesh....Tyler said too much death and took some time off and went to Dallas. Can I go, too?  Jeff keeps his head down and marches forth.  I find myself sitting on the bathroom floor with the cabinet doors open looking at medicine, et al...various John sick stuff. I sit there with Tucker and cry. Then I lay on the floor with my arms around Tucker and ... cry. Then I go grocery shopping and then I eat.  I eat lots. I go to work...people, some of them, are kind, some ignore me.  Jeesh.

Tucker and Marley

Writing this after the fact, almost a year later, I wonder how I managed to get anything done. Did the 3 weeks in Italy help me prepare?  I think so.  Jeff and Tyler and the Martins did all of the work and I am grateful. John's ashes were even home in the beautiful "family" urn. Now, I have 5 urns:  Jazzy, Riff, Ira, Marley and John. Somewhere out of this, I find some humor. John is residing in the same urn as my ex-husband, Bob.  John knew that's where he was going to be and he loved it!

John's service.  Not a blur.  Many hands made it a memorable day.  Many family members came and stayed.  Many friends flew in to honor John. Food, memories, laughter and much love and we made it a good few days.

Tegan, Dani, Erin hugging Makenna

Tegan with Buddy the Rat and Makenna

Tyler the Dad with his wonderful...kids my grandkids:  Eli and Lizzy and Tucker!

Hanging out with Uncle Jeff

My BFF Sister-in-law, Patti.  I couldn't have made it without her!

2018 he did it his way....

The Broadway play and movie, Rent, has a song in it that resonates ...Seasons of Love.  How do I tell John's story in this blog?  How do I tell you, if anyone is out there reading, how John chose to die? First, I need to tell you that he detested the touchy-feeling way of saying someone died by saying...they ... passed.  No, he use to say, they died. But, as his time became shorter and shorter on earth, he wrote one day on his tablet, that he thought passing was OK to use.  He wrote, that he was soon going to pass.  I looked at him and asked..."Where are you going?"

Me and My John before the ugliness of cancer,

In January 2018, I called our youngest son, Tyler and asked him to come home; he was living in Camas, WA. I needed his help with John and he needed to be close to his dad, me and Jeff during this time.  He was a blessing as both Jeff and I continued to work, Tyler took John to appointments, got his food ready for him and got him up into the walker and chairs.

By March and as a family, we met in John's Oncologist office and discussed the decision to discontinue chemo treatments.  I sat there thinking, I'm giving up on my husband's life. It seemed so surreal. But, he simply could not continue with chemo - it kicked has ass.  The next few months were spent in and out of the ER with various life-threatening issues common to end of life cancer patients.

His surgeon called me after visiting him in the ER and after having taken scans. The news was very grim, but he wanted me to know so we, as a family could tell John what to expect. The 4 of us sat in the living room and after hearing the grim details of the tumor progression, John said he was done. He wanted Hospice.

There were so many awful things that occurred that my soul-mate, my John endured toward the end that to describe them now would only be morbid. He was without his dignity and that really bugged him. We were all tired of seeing John slip further away, but that's what families do...they care for each other in good and in ugly and cancer is UGLY.

Back chaining: Italy May 2018.  My good friend and I had been planning a three week trip to Italy for almost 2 years. I said I needed to cancel. She understood, John did not.  In fact, he was furious, when I told him I was going to cancel.

I sat on the side of his Hospice bed and he wrote that he wanted me to go to Italy and that it would make him happy to know I was there when he died. SAY WHAT? After much arguing as to why I should stay and be with him, he looked me square in the eyes and said, reading lips, go to the bathroom and then wait a few seconds and then come out.  OK...when I came out, he was playing dead..which I didn't think was very funny.  He opened his eyes and said, "See, you could take a big old dump and I could be dead when you are done. Go to Italy."  He finished the conversation by saying, he wanted his sons and his two close friends, John and David Martin to be with him..he didn't want me to see him dead. He then said, I need to know that you know what to do when I die, so get the stuff together in a book and let me look at it.  OK. 

I gathered all the information he told me to gather, put it into a 3 ring binder with tabs, called the book: THE BOOK and handed it to him. It passed muster and he said, "Good."

I tried cancelling Italy two more times and each time, I was thwarted very angrily by John, Jeff and Tyler.  I didn't get it.

Three days before I was to leave, he said that he was going to die as soon as I got to Italy and he knew my feet had touched the ground.  He told me that he didn't want to live to have the tumor progress and that he was ready to "pass" into the Kingdom of God. He said he knew where he was going and that I needed to tell him I would go to Italy and that knowing I was there, he knew it was OK to go...to die...to pass. He told me he loved me more than anything and that my happiness was more important to him than hanging around being a burden.  I lost it at that.

We snuggled, talked about all the stuff we had done in our marriage, the bad, the ugly and the very, very good.  There was nothing left unsaid between us. Our marriage was rock-solid. We were the very best of partners; but I still wasn't going to go to Italy.  I planned on telling Linda we needed to cancel the next day at work. Linda understood.  Was it fate that I could not reach the travel agency to cancel?  I don't know. Was it God through John?  I don't know.  I was not able to cancel.

Two days before I left he said he didn't see any suitcases being packed. I got the suitcases down and began packing. He asked me to read my itinerary to him and to tell him all the places I was going to go. So, I did.  I didn't sleep that night.

The day before I left I was home taking care of John with Tyler.  He said he was trying to die and to leave him alone and quit hovering. If ever, in my sobriety, I was going to drink, it was that day. So, I fixed a cup of coffee and finished packing and went outside and cried.

My dogs sat with me. Tucker was a joyful, bouncing dog, but Marley, whom we knew was ill, wanted to be with John. I let him into the house and he laid on his hospice bed with him.

The Martin's came over, Hospice visited, and all I could do was watch this like an out of body experience.  I looked at everyone and said, I'm not going, Linda will understand.  John's eyes popped open and he said he wanted to die knowing I was in Italy..get on the darn plane and go.

1 hour before Tyler took me to the airport, I laid down with John. We had said everything there was to say; we left nothing on the table. When Tyler told me I had to go, My John looked at me and said, he'd see me on the other side and I know your name.

I went to Italy.  Two days after I left, John died on his terms.  He passed from my mortal life into a place where good spirits live and I have no doubt that I will see him when he calls my name.

Moving on and remembering to breathe. What now, God?

John Run For The Wall May 2017. Standing for the song, "God Bless the USA"

2017 - an incredible year with my John...

May 2017 - December 2017

Immunotherapy is being advertised by the pharmaceutecals as "the" treatment for Cancer patients. Let me say this, it gave John an incredible year.  It gave us time.

The progression of his disease seemed to stop in mid-progression as we saw in the scans after only 3 weeks of weekly treatments. We began having hope once again and made plans to ride our motorcycle trike on the 2017 Run For The Wall, as well as other outings.

The anticipation of the Run became all-consuming for both of us, but more so for John. How do you pack 10 days work of special liquid food, medications, etc. on a motorcycle?  You don't. We decided to take our truck and share riding the bike and driving the truck. This was not a decision John was happy with.  I think we both knew that this trip was going to be his/our last together on the bike and he wanted to make the journey riding the wind and not sitting in the truck. To say it was tense in our home would be an understatement.

My brother, Mario and two of his close friends joined the Run riding down from Washington State. We hooked up with them in Odessa, TX, and when I saw my brother, I bawled! He had been trying to make the Run for 7 years and to actually see him, give him a hug and cry with him is a memory I hold dear.

Paul, Mario and Jim

The Run was horrible.  The weather gods did not cooperate and it poured buckets on us most of the time.  The constant rain made it miserable for all of us; especially John. Afraid of catching pneumonia, he was forced to ride in the truck except for a few short legs where the sun shone and the temperature rose.  Needless to say, he was not a happy camper and neither was I. After three days, we talked and I told him to get on the bike and ride; and so he did.


The RFTW team had made sure that John could ride in the Missing Man formation in Mississippi riding into Jacksonville Harley Davidson.  My brother, Mario, would be his companion in formation.
Seeing John ride into Jacksonville HD in a light drizzle along side my brother, was an unbelievably emotional experience. When he got off the bike, the sun came out, the temperature soared and as he got out of his rain gear, he took me aside and said, (reading his lips), I rode for me, I won't be here next year. Holding each other and crying, we both knew the truth of his words.

Mario, John and Paul

John and I were invited to join the Chairman of the Joint Chief of Staff: General Dunsford at the Marine Corps Commandant home in Washington DC for party and dinner. I admit, I was in awe of the five star General. John said he put his pants on the same way he did. But, when the General talked to John, thanked him for his service and saluted My John, I was brought to tears.  John simply said, it was his honor to have served.

John, Me and The General

After visiting the Washington Memorial Park with my John, my brother and his two friends, it was time to say goodbye to DC.  Mario and his friends left, our friend, Chuck, flew in to ride our trike back, I said see you soon to John and boarded the plane for home.  I left John and the truck in the parking lot of the hotel to take his time driving home.  I knew he had to be back by a specific date for his next treatment.

John took his time driving back as he went through Georgia to see both of his brothers and their families.  He arrive home safe and sound.

At the end of June, John drove the truck to Vermont to see his daughter and her family who came in from Maui where they live to see relatives and visit friends. He fished  in Vermont lakes, caught the wily creatures, and more importantly connected with family.  Leaving Vermont, he swung down through Illinois to see his sisters and their families and after three weeks on the road and in time for another treatment, he arrived home.

Grandaughter's Tegan, and Makenna, John and daughter Dani

October rolled around and another adventure called to both of us.  I flew to Las Vegas to meet with Tyler and the grandkids and attend a nephew's wedding.  John drove the truck. Although we had a wonderful time with family, I could tell that he was more tired than usual and opted out of attending the wedding. When it came time for him to drive home, he was anxious to be on the road and made sure I knew his route and schedule. After he left, family told me that he had talked to each of them and said he loved them and that he most likely would not see them again. He told them he had had an incredible life and that they all had played a part in his story and that he was grateful for them. They said he told them not to cry, but to be happy and to live their lives in happiness.

Grandson, Eli, Papa John, Son-Tyler, Grandaughter, Lizzy 

 Ewanda-married to Jae, Uncle John, Son Jae and Me

John, Son-Tyler and daughter, Erin

My family told me this and also tole me that he was a remarkable influence in their lives and it was an honor to have known him. I don't know about you, but I was overwhelmed with emotion.  It was the last adventure John took.

The immunotherapy quit working sometime in November, 2017. And John wanted to make one last try with chemo. We left for MD Anderson where we were told that he could have three more months of Chemo, but that was it. We knew it wasn't going to cure him - just prolong his life.  He said he wanted to try the chemo.

Christmas is a blur - wasn't very jolly.  Most of our friends said to have hope, but John and i share the same personality trait...we are realists.

Oh where, oh where have I been???

It's been a very strange two years. Two years of my life that at times seemed to drag and absolutely stand still - and two years that went by all too fast. Too fast to grab the rail of life as it twirled me from hope to despair back to hope.

My last post was full of hope. Hope that John's cancer would be arrested and we could get on with our lives. Well, that simply was not to be.

After he underwent his second surgery at MD Anderson, he went back to Houston two months later and underwent an 8 week regimen of concurrent chemo and radiation. Brutal.  But, he never complained.  He never said, this isn't fair.  He never told me he was in any pain.  He just smiled and said he was good.  Liar.

John came home from Houston July 4th weekend and looked good.  He was eating food and feeling energetic. We believed the cancer was gone.  Liar...the cancer lied.

In September he began having strange spasms. We would find him on the floor sitting up or laying down. When we asked him why he was on the floor, he said he was tired and just wanted to lay down.  Say WHAT?? The occurrences were not regular, but on one occasion, we witnessed it and it scared me.

After spending almost a week in the hospital, where he was mis diagnosed with seizures, I began to suspicion the tumor was on the move. That was confirmed when the spasms began more frequently.

John was scheduled for his 6 month check at MD Anderson in November and while in the plane, he had a violent spasm.  The pilot called for an ambulance upon arrival and we were whisked to MD Anderson.

5 days later, after numerous tests and teams, the cancer team came in, read his charts, reviewed the scans and gave us the news that the tumor was back and had once again wrapped around his carotdid artery.  He could have no more surgery and no more radiation or chemo. Basically, there was nothing they could do...except....

The head of the Oncology Department called right after we received the grim news and offered John immunotherapy.  We went home with our directions to call John's oncologist. We had to wait an agonizing 5 weeks before treatments could begin.

January 11, John started immunotherapy.  But...wait!  2017 rolled us into 1 incredible year.

rolling...rolling keep those dimes a rolling....

My life continues to roll with the punches that life throws my way.  After all, it is the only thing I can do under the circumstances. Giving up is not an option.

John and I spent a week at MD Anderson Cancer Center in Houston last week, where he underwent another cancerous tumor removal. Sigh.

I wish I could say it was an overwhelming positive experience; but how can I...REALLY?

Cancer is big business. For those of you whom the "darkness" had touched, let me tell you, don't mess around...go to MD Anderson if at all possible.  The place is like a small city with over 213 buildings spread over 1300 acres and employing over 20,000 people.  Jeesh...it's huge.

Can you be happy in a hospital filled with people going through or ending various stages of different cancers?  I think you can.  However, I was not one of them.  I'm being real and honest, here.

It was an overwhelming experience to be touched by MD Anderson.  Most of the employed are happy and upbeat, which helped when I felt like a lost rat in the maze of life.  People stepped forward, showed me that I wasn't lost and directed me to the correct elevator for where I needed to be. The food was tolerable. The overall building was cold and one day my elevator - elevator E to the 11th floor, did not work. Fortunately, the tower is equipped with a secondary elevator for staff and transporting patients.  Eleven floors would have not made a happy Pat.

John's second tumor was wrapped around his carotid artery, but was removed successfully.  He is on observation...cancer free.  However, this does not include findings of anything smaller than they can see using various magnifying loops. For my husband...I wanted the Hubble...deep space looking.  I got the surgeon's loop.

The care John received was phenomenal. His team of folk rose to the occasion giving instructions, information for after care and prognosis of care which includes speech pathology where John can learn to talk again. This was and is exciting.

We left a week later feeling confident that John would not only heal, but would have a quality of life touching on normal.  We know he is not out of the cancer forest yet as the surgeons have agreed he will need either or both radiation and chemo after he heels.  It's a nasty cancer bug...duh!

What is my take on this, the latest chapter?  It still sux. I cannot kid you and tell you I am fine with all of this, for I am not. But what I am is this:  undaunted and resolute.

I am undaunted by the mass of information and processes we need to ingest.  I am undaunted by the nagging fear in the back of my head (which sometimes moves to center stage). I am undaunted in the energy I need to dig up from a weary me.  I just gotta plow through.

I am resolute to continue to talk to my Higher Power, God. I am resolute to not lay blame or be angry for more than the time it takes me to say, "Hi God, me again...need a little help, here." I am resolute to love my husband no matter frickin' what comes down the path.  I am resolute to continue my mantra of:  I am Strong, I am Brave and I am Courageous! But, most of all, I want to read and say out loud the Serenity Prayer, that I now wear around my neck, every day with the conviction to say, God grant me the Serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can and wisdom to know the difference.