tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-238308992026-07-12T12:21:31.595-07:00Snowbrushhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00436087215476479042noreply@blogger.comBlogger865125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23830899.post-10154473962876624162026-07-05T17:14:14.280-07:002026-07-06T14:39:50.482-07:00

 Now that Peggy is past her two surgeries, her physical therapy, and has stopped chemo, nothing more is being done for her, so our weeks have been spent waiting for access to a drug that isn’t yet FDA approved, and therefore requires a lengthy procurement process despite the fact that the people who need it are close to death. Our stress has been such that I spent two days in bed last week,

Snowbrushhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00436087215476479042noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23830899.post-63314085794404631712026-06-20T12:32:53.565-07:002026-06-20T12:34:42.414-07:00

 Despite the fact that her last chemo treatment lowered her CA-19-9 results, Peggy told Marc, her oncologist, on Tuesday that she’s done taking chemo. That scared me, but when I later tried to talk to her about it, she said, “Don’t try to make me feel guilty,” so I stopped talking. Marc said ending treatment meant that there was no reason to keep her next appointment with him or to take

Snowbrushhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00436087215476479042noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23830899.post-14269314642308694872026-06-09T14:32:56.580-07:002026-06-09T14:34:32.321-07:00

 We are besieged by nutria, which I have been dutifully chasing away. Last week, one growled and feinted toward me before running away. I’ve since been carrying a square-pointed shovel with which to better intimidate nutria. The next time one growled and moved in my direction, I threw the shovel, the point of which hit him in the hip. As he limped away, I picked the shovel up to finish him

Snowbrushhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00436087215476479042noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23830899.post-15261276379461813622026-05-15T12:15:35.970-07:002026-05-15T12:21:40.292-07:00

Peggy had a high definition MRI on Monday, blood tests on Wednesday, and saw her oncologist (Marc) on Thursday. The tests showed spots on her lungs, spots on her liver (all of which are too small to biopsy), and an elevated CA-19.9 cancer marker. Marc is trying to get her access to the new pancreatic cancer drug before its FDA (Food and Drug Administration) approval, but doing so involves a lot

Snowbrushhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00436087215476479042noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23830899.post-58386131535518994252026-04-22T17:32:19.397-07:002026-04-23T12:52:36.575-07:00

As you might recall, the CA-19-9 is an important blood test for the measurement of pancreatic cancer. A normal score is below thirty-seven.  On Friday, February 13th, Peggy’s spleen and lower pancreas were removed in the hope that her CA-19-9 level would plummet. When it instead soared by thousands of points per month, we approached despair.On April 1, a pancreatic

Snowbrushhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00436087215476479042noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23830899.post-88438559477291270362026-04-20T15:56:00.000-07:002026-04-20T15:56:43.279-07:00

 Peggy's first doctor's appointment was her two-week follow-up with her hip surgeon who said that the site is healing normally despite continuing pain. The final three appointments were with her internist, with an OHSU (Oregon Health Sciences University) oncologist that she had never seen before, and then I had an appointment with my podiatrist.When Peggy told her Eugene oncologist

Snowbrushhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00436087215476479042noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23830899.post-50878111471941674732026-04-03T17:34:55.300-07:002026-04-05T12:09:00.902-07:00

 Peggy’s April Fool’s Day surgery (aka percutaneous ablation with internal fixation of right acetabulum) came 47-days after her Friday 13th surgery. We had to check-in at the hospital, which is an hour’s drive north of here, at 6:00 a.m., which is five hours earlier than we usually get out of bed. In order to mitigate our fatigue, we spent the night before surgery at the Mario Pastega House,

Snowbrushhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00436087215476479042noreply@blogger.com19tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23830899.post-87348569830314770512026-04-03T17:34:45.510-07:002026-04-03T17:34:45.510-07:00

As I mentioned, our day started stupid. All of Peggy’s doctors except her new one are in Eugene, and we had driven ten miles up I-5 before realizing that we had left her new doctor’s address on the kitchen table. Upon googling him, Peggy found that his office is next door to the hospital in Albany. I had thought that he was next door to the hospital in Corvallis, but what could I do but trust the

Snowbrushhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00436087215476479042noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23830899.post-8750221892083675972026-04-03T17:34:39.113-07:002026-04-03T17:34:39.114-07:00

 Last night, Peggy fell into walls and doors when she awakened to use the bathroom. She didn’t call for help; she instead tried to fall quietly so she wouldn’t awaken me. So it is that we each try to protect the other, but last night was a bad time for her to do so. Side effects from chemo can develop even after chemo is stopped and have been known to become permanent. Peggy and I agree that

Snowbrushhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00436087215476479042noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23830899.post-65020942727927425352026-03-13T11:35:00.000-07:002026-03-13T11:35:41.035-07:00

Eleven months ago, Peggy complained to her internist of pain in her right thigh. He first thought that she needed a hip replacement. Her friend Walt, who ended his life three years ago because of cancer, had taken the same path with another doctor, but in his case, he went through with a hip replacement. By late May when Peggy’s problem was diagnosed as stage four pancreatic cancer, I was having

Snowbrushhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00436087215476479042noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23830899.post-28433117800480106582026-03-02T18:02:00.000-08:002026-03-05T16:45:17.210-08:00

On February 13th, Peggy’s spleen, lower pancreas, and two lymph nodes were removed in the hope that she could return to a nearly normal life. She has been moaning in pain since the surgery but refuses to take narcotics. When we saw Marc, Peggy’s oncologist, on Thursday, February 26th, we knew from the moment he walked into the room that the news was bad.Marc said that Peggy’s post-surgical

Snowbrushhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00436087215476479042noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23830899.post-23637519685073128782026-02-19T16:19:00.000-08:002026-02-19T16:19:10.799-08:00

 I started the following in answer to Ellen’s question following my last post, but decided to make it into a post. The first photo was taken during such a surgery. The second photo is of the type robot that is used. The third photo shows the medical staff’s positioning.When Peggy’s surgeon, Diego, called me after her surgery on Friday, he pronounced the removal of her spleen, lower pancreas,

Snowbrushhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00436087215476479042noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23830899.post-76001591424927487152026-02-16T14:49:00.000-08:002026-02-16T15:43:38.104-08:00

The bicycling photo of my sister, Carol Gay, dates from 1969, when she was fourteen. In case you missed my last post or two, I’ll mention that Gay died on Friday. She was 71.Peggy’s doctor failed to order the patient controlled narcotic pump he promised, so her pain level was six and rising when I reached the hospital at 7:00 p.m. Friday. While walking the stairs to the seventh floor, I got

Snowbrushhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00436087215476479042noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23830899.post-56694809559591299652026-02-13T14:29:00.000-08:002026-02-16T14:49:52.841-08:00

This letter and the ones that follow are to the forty-one people whom either Peggy, or I, or both of us, want to tell about today’s surgery, and I will also post it to my blog. It’s now 10:30, and Peggy was taken to surgery a half-hour ago. Her 384-bed hospital was running behind because Peace Health Sacred Heart Hospital (Peace Health is a Catholic run chain that owns several Northwestern

Snowbrushhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00436087215476479042noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23830899.post-25504358670015727482026-01-28T15:35:00.000-08:002026-02-02T10:51:15.988-08:00

 While reading the following, please bear in mind that I hold a power of attorney for Peggy's health care, and this enables me to receive any and all information about her care and to speak and act on her behalf, which, with her added verbal permission, I often do.As my regular readers know, Peggy has stage four pancreatic cancer and, after months of chemotherapy, was scheduled to have&

Snowbrushhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00436087215476479042noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23830899.post-71091080016476588622026-01-06T15:31:00.000-08:002026-01-06T15:43:22.977-08:00

Peggy’s oncologist called on Sunday and again on Monday (I never stop marveling at that man’s dedication) to discuss her situation in some detail, but I’m going to cut to the chase by saying that Friday’s PET-Scan showed no new tumors.  This means that she is still on the schedule for a January 27th pancreatectomy, and, once that is done, for an excision of the malignancy on her ilium. 

Snowbrushhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00436087215476479042noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23830899.post-31495834847111585072025-12-27T12:51:00.000-08:002025-12-28T15:59:17.065-08:00

   Two weeks ago, Peggy had a CAT-Scan, which showed that her pancreatic cancer remains confined to her pancreas and ilium. Based upon this result, Marc, her oncologist (see photo), recommended that she have the pancreatectomy which she had been pleading for since her May diagnosis. When Diego Muilenburg, her surgical oncologist, agreed to perform the surgery, Marc ordered a

Snowbrushhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00436087215476479042noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23830899.post-64845885514927896112025-11-04T17:30:00.000-08:002025-11-12T13:06:01.454-08:00

Two events put me on the road to joining the Episcopal Church. The first occurred in 1967 when my girlfriend, Sherry, and I entered an unlocked Church of Christ that we had never visited because it disagreed with our own Church of Christ over how many “cups” to use in the weekly communion. We entered that church because I enjoyed seeing new churches and because it appeared to offer a quiet place

Snowbrushhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00436087215476479042noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23830899.post-83870033439166722922025-10-13T14:55:00.000-07:002025-10-14T19:53:27.585-07:00

Cult: a relatively small and controlling group of people having beliefs or practices that are seen by others as strange or sinister.I have often written about growing up in Mississippi in the fundamentalist Church of Christ and of having my first serious doubts about God’s goodness at age eleven and about his existence three years later. I want to approach the subject from a different angle, but

Snowbrushhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00436087215476479042noreply@blogger.com20tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23830899.post-68132614907815775302025-10-03T12:19:00.000-07:002025-10-03T12:54:52.672-07:00

On Monday, Peggy had a CAT-scan following her sixth chemo; the results were encouraging. Marc, her oncologist plans to give her six more treatments, and assuming they go well, will follow them up with radiation, and a possible pancreatectomy. I asked Peggy in advance for permission to take a picture of her and Marc. When she said no, I persisted, and she objected that Marc wouldn’t want his

Snowbrushhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00436087215476479042noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23830899.post-52529771076566474582025-09-06T16:25:00.000-07:002025-09-06T22:29:38.768-07:00

Peggy is sick in bed following her fifth chemo yesterday (the photo predates her hair loss). Despite never feeling normal and being dogged by the shooting stomach pains that accompany pancreatic cancer, her prescribed ten minute walks have grown into an hour-long affair, and she is back to working out with weights. I had a friend named Mina who stopped chemo because she believed Jesus

Snowbrushhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00436087215476479042noreply@blogger.com22tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23830899.post-51461630677453067972025-08-20T16:20:00.000-07:002025-09-18T11:14:03.981-07:00

Brewsky (front) and OllieThe vet clinic was filled with big noisy dogs and an assortment of noisy humans, so the three of us were taken to a tiny examining room in the afternoon sun. The outside temperature was 102 (39 C), yet the clinic’s staff—like all staffs at all clinics—were determined to keep the door shut. In human clinics, they do this “to protect patient confidentiality,” but a tech in

Snowbrushhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00436087215476479042noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23830899.post-55764699603477825502025-08-10T19:09:00.000-07:002025-08-13T12:58:28.600-07:00

Our world turned upside down on May 19, when a physician’s assistant silently walked into an examining room, handed Peggy the results of an MRI which contained the words “probable metastatic process,” and walked out. That day marked the end of either of us being happy for more than minutes at a time. Ours is such a hard way to live that I've often had the thought that there probably aren’t many

Snowbrushhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00436087215476479042noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23830899.post-37360998413318306772025-07-21T12:18:00.000-07:002025-07-25T10:47:35.323-07:00

As most of you know, my wife, Peggy, has pancreatic cancer. Among her oncologist's first words were: “It would be reasonable for you to choose palliative care only. If you go that route, you will probably die within six months.” Had she chosen palliative care only, she would have now exhausted a third of her remaining time on earth. (Our photo dates from 1973.) Peggy has

Snowbrushhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00436087215476479042noreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23830899.post-11107204455774002072025-06-23T13:42:00.000-07:002025-06-25T14:04:56.643-07:00

 The photo is horrible, but despite the fact that it doesn't portray Peggy as the lovely woman that she is, it does speak to the hideousness of what our lives have become. I want to describe Peggy's condition in some detail because I have unknowingly led various people to think that she is worse off than she is. Here is what I can say about her... She walks slowly; her pain appears

Snowbrushhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00436087215476479042noreply@blogger.com23