UPDATE ON RON - 19 JULY 2019
I know I haven't been keeping the Schmirtz Report up to date for quite a while. Things have been sort of a roller coaster here so blogging lost its place on the priorities list.
Ron was doing relatively well until about a month ago. He had taught three online classes which he loved and then decided to take the summer off.
During this time, the docs discovered yet another tumor on the outside of his brain up near the skull. He was given the option of having a port inserted into his chest and receiving chemo every three weeks to control the growth of the tumor. He emphatically said, "NO!"
He began working with the Hospice people from Kaiser Permanente about six weeks ago. They're FANTASTIC!!! Kind, compassionate, no BS, and realistic. The RN and the MSW walk on water. We're blessed to have them.
About a month ago, the tumor seems to have had a growth spurt which effected his speech. His abilities to communicate verbally have become quite limited which he finds very frustrating and saddening. As the days have gone by, his abilities to write have also lessened. Since I can read his body language, we eventually get the information transferred. But it's a guessing game at this point.
I also made the decision that it was time for him to stop driving - which I'd thought for some time but was too chicken to mention since it has been a BIG bone of contention for the last year. He didn't like the idea but understood the reasoning.
We had also booked a Viking River Cruise up the Danube from Budapest to Amsterdam which I have had to cancel last Tuesday which sent him into deep sobs. He hadn't really comprehended his condition and that time was probably shorter than he had expected. I just held him for ten minutes (actual time!) as he sobbed. It was both heart-breaking and wonderful at the same time.
All that being said, Ron's still upright and ambulatory, still upbeat most of the time and eating Pasta. (Big surprise there, eh?!) He's still taking the bus to Zumba or swimming every day. Yes, I realize the risks but.... He's still finding quality in life and enjoying what he can. My suspicion is that once he can no longer speak and/or go exercise or eat Pasta, the end will come soon.
As far as the end goes, to Ron's way of thinking death is the beginning of new adventure. About forty years ago, he got sick while on a hike and while lying on the trail - at least from his perception - the clouds parted and he saw what comes next. He says its beauty and peace are beyond description. Whether it was perception or an actual event is a moot point. It is his reality and I hope ours too.
In reality, this whole chapter has been filled with grace and blessings. Because he's decided not to aggressively fight the tumors - the docs are pretty clear that more would come - we've not had successive processions to hospitals and he's not needed to be poked and prodded and live like a guinea pig. Instead, he's retained his dignity and zest for what is left of life. And this, for me, has been the biggest blessing. It' hasn't been like living in a house where someone is dying....but rather still living.
So, keep Ron and me in your prayers. Pray that death may come as a long-awaited friend. Pray that his relatives - especially those he never met due to the Holocaust - may come and welcome him into that place where there is no grief or pain, but life eternal.
And....(drum-roll, please!) tomorrow is our 6th wedding anniversary and our 16th year together. So, we're gonna go have FUN!
I will post more frequently as things progress.
Lotsa love and Peace,
Kevin.
Ron was doing relatively well until about a month ago. He had taught three online classes which he loved and then decided to take the summer off.
During this time, the docs discovered yet another tumor on the outside of his brain up near the skull. He was given the option of having a port inserted into his chest and receiving chemo every three weeks to control the growth of the tumor. He emphatically said, "NO!"
He began working with the Hospice people from Kaiser Permanente about six weeks ago. They're FANTASTIC!!! Kind, compassionate, no BS, and realistic. The RN and the MSW walk on water. We're blessed to have them.
About a month ago, the tumor seems to have had a growth spurt which effected his speech. His abilities to communicate verbally have become quite limited which he finds very frustrating and saddening. As the days have gone by, his abilities to write have also lessened. Since I can read his body language, we eventually get the information transferred. But it's a guessing game at this point.
I also made the decision that it was time for him to stop driving - which I'd thought for some time but was too chicken to mention since it has been a BIG bone of contention for the last year. He didn't like the idea but understood the reasoning.
We had also booked a Viking River Cruise up the Danube from Budapest to Amsterdam which I have had to cancel last Tuesday which sent him into deep sobs. He hadn't really comprehended his condition and that time was probably shorter than he had expected. I just held him for ten minutes (actual time!) as he sobbed. It was both heart-breaking and wonderful at the same time.
All that being said, Ron's still upright and ambulatory, still upbeat most of the time and eating Pasta. (Big surprise there, eh?!) He's still taking the bus to Zumba or swimming every day. Yes, I realize the risks but.... He's still finding quality in life and enjoying what he can. My suspicion is that once he can no longer speak and/or go exercise or eat Pasta, the end will come soon.
As far as the end goes, to Ron's way of thinking death is the beginning of new adventure. About forty years ago, he got sick while on a hike and while lying on the trail - at least from his perception - the clouds parted and he saw what comes next. He says its beauty and peace are beyond description. Whether it was perception or an actual event is a moot point. It is his reality and I hope ours too.
In reality, this whole chapter has been filled with grace and blessings. Because he's decided not to aggressively fight the tumors - the docs are pretty clear that more would come - we've not had successive processions to hospitals and he's not needed to be poked and prodded and live like a guinea pig. Instead, he's retained his dignity and zest for what is left of life. And this, for me, has been the biggest blessing. It' hasn't been like living in a house where someone is dying....but rather still living.
So, keep Ron and me in your prayers. Pray that death may come as a long-awaited friend. Pray that his relatives - especially those he never met due to the Holocaust - may come and welcome him into that place where there is no grief or pain, but life eternal.
And....(drum-roll, please!) tomorrow is our 6th wedding anniversary and our 16th year together. So, we're gonna go have FUN!
I will post more frequently as things progress.
Lotsa love and Peace,
Kevin.
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