An Update as of 11/1/13

The last few days have been Murphy’s Law sort of days. First, Bob’s laptop died as he was trying to revert from Windows 8 to Windows 7. Then three separate things went wrong with our water, requiring us to call out three separate companies to set things straight. Then, to top it all off, our phones shorted out creating static and cross-over between our two lines. As he always has done, Bob took charge of managing all of the needed repairs as well as the comings and goings of the various contractors.

Our phones have been problematic for much of the last year, ever since we moved Bob’s office up to our dining room in the fall to make sure he was safe after we arrived home from our time at the University of Virginia medical center. Moving his office upstairs during that interim period meant that we also had to adapt our phone wiring so that his dining room office would have phone and Internet. That turned out to involved a lot of jerry rigging, and Bob had not really been as ready to take on that challenge as he’d thought he was.  

This time, I persuaded Bob that it would be worth calling the phone company for assistance. Chan, the guy who was sent out from the phone company, got way more than he bargained for.  When he arrived, Bob told him “this could take a while, our phones are really a mess.” Chan shrugged it off.  “This is what I do” he demurred. He got to work, with Bob in tow as the two of them puzzled over the confusing mess of wiring. Bob and Chan developed a sense of camaraderie as they worked side-by-side, testing wires and sorting out tangled circuits. Four hours later, the two of them laughingly congratulated one another for finally having gotten the whole system working properly.

That’s when I reminded Bob that today was the one year anniversary of his homecoming from Charlottesville. That day, as Bob wandered through the house with Bryn at his side, he was incredulous, arms outstretched in disbelief. “We live here?” he’d asked. “How did we come to live in such a beautiful place?” He had no memory of living in this home where we had lived for ten years.

At that point, we did not know how much of his memory or functioning Bob would eventually get back. We were just glad to have him alive and well enough to be back home. These days he gets frustrated that his memory issues are still such a challenge and he is not at the top of him game cognitively. But as we realized the significance of this anniversary, and realized just how far he has come, we couldn’t help but cry tears of gratitude in each other’s arms.

Thank you for the ways that you each have contributed to that healing through your thoughts, prayers, and acts of caring and kindness.

-Megab=n

An Update as of 10/27/13

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0L16DsNfM2o

On Sunday, Oct. 27, Bob was invited to preach at our church, the Williamsburg Unitarian Universalists. You can read his sermon at  http://www.lifetrekcoaching.com/provisions/20131027_Seized_by_Life.htm . As part of the service, I was invited to share the Call to Worship and a sharing time that we call “From the Heart.” My dear Erika asked me to share what I had said, so here it is.

Call to Worship

On a bright morning in late August of 2012, my husband Bob slept late. That was unusual for him, but he hadn’t been feeling well the evening before so I was glad he was getting a little rest. As I brewed a cup of tea for him and grabbed the morning paper to take to him in bed, I could not have imagined the ways that our lives were about to change—how serious illness was about to rock our world, to shake our assumptions, and to bring us into a close encounter of the mystery that lies just outside our awareness as we scurry through our ordinary lives.

A few moments later, as Bob carried that tea and newspaper to the kitchen, he was felled by a massive seizure. I heard him growling and turned the corner just in time to see him tumbling down a flight of stairs.

Bob was taken by ambulance to Riverside Hospital and a week later med-flighted to the University of Virginia Medical Center, where he was placed in a medically induced coma to stop the fire storm of seizures that was going on in Bob’s brain.

Three weeks later, on Sept. 28, as he began to come out of the coma, Bob began to open his eyes and was able to follow our movements around the room. The next day, I shared this news with our family and friends. 

Today was a happy day! Bob was more alert and more responsive than he has been since he was first sedated.  His eyes were showing recognition of us, and he could communicate by blinking his eyes. By the end of the day, he was able to nod slightly, make facial gestures, and mouth simple questions like “What happened?” and “When?”. He got a case of the giggles this afternoon, and his silent laughter was infectious even though it caused all kinds of alarms to go off on the breathing apparatus, and sent him into a coughing spell. [Such joy at finding himself alive!]

Bob is still extremely weak from laying in bed for four weeks without moving. Bob can move his fingers and toes now more consistently, and with assistance was able to move one of his arms up to scratch an itchy nose.

Bob really seemed to remember things that we talked to him about, like running marathons and where he grew up, as well as the family and friends that we talked about. His short term memory is not as good and may take some time to recover. So I answered his questions about what happened, when, and where we were many times throughout the day. I also told him again and again that thousands of people around the world were praying for him. He often mouthed “Wow” when I told him that.

As I was getting ready to leave this evening, Bob kept mouthing something that I didn’t understand. I reassured him the best I could that he shouldn’t try to figure it all out tonight and that he should try to get some rest, but he didn’t seem satisfied. It was breaking my heart to leave him seeming so unsettled, but it was shift change for the nurses and time for me to go. When I turned back one last time at the door, I suddenly understood what he wanted. He was saying “I want to pray.” When I finally understood, his eyes lit up and he nodded. I came back and offered a heartfelt prayer for Bob’s healing.  The anxiety melted away from his face, and I was able to leave him in a much calmer state. So I am pleased to add one more heart to those thousands lifting prayers for Bob’s healing -- that of Bob himself.

A week later as Bob was able to sit up in bed and was gradually coming more and more back to himself, he shared this poem by David Whyte called What to Remember on Waking. This poem  had meant so much to Bob even before he got sick that he had committed it to memory, but it took on entirely new dimensions as Bob was waking from a much deeper sleep.

            Video (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0L16DsNfM2o )

Come, let us explore the mysteries of intersections of life and death, and the ways some of those mysteries can be revealed in serious illness. 

From the Heart

I count it a privilege to accompany Bob on this frightening and uplifting journey of healing that we have been on. It is not over and it remains uncertain what is yet ahead. Bob still struggles with daily small seizures that we call “blips” and occasionally even stronger ones. His memory is significantly impaired, making it difficult for function in the ways he is used to. And, as predicted by the MRI, he is more emotional than he was, having become quite tenderhearted and easily brought to tears.

As I have taken on more of a caregiving role, I have been reminded of some truths that came to me as a young mother from a book called A Way in the World: Family Life as Spiritual Discipline.  In it, Ernest Boyer Jr. describes the spiritual intentions and ambitions of the ascetics who have chosen to live in harsh and barren places in order to deepen their spiritual awareness and knowing. Describing the challenges and demons they faced, the author then draws a comparison to the spiritual discipline of caregiving. He points to the demons of boredom and resentment, as well as the discipline of self-care.

Boredom. Caregiving often involves repetitive and sometimes monotonous tasks. We have no sooner finished the breakfast dishes when it is time to begin thinking about lunch. We tidy up the playroom in the morning, knowing it will have to be tidied again in the afternoon. The challenge is that the human brain seeks intellectual stimulation through novelty – people may find this in novels or movies, in music or travel. Learning to find a sense of meaning and purpose in the repetitive tasks of caregiving can be an arduous spiritual practice.

Resentment. When one party in a relationship needs greater care, whether due to youth, infirmity or age, it creates an imbalance in the give and take of a relationship that can lead to resentment on the part of the one who is giving greater care. Fortunately for me, Bob has been very expressive of his gratitude for my care, but for many care receivers coping with the discomforts and frustrations of their condition may lead them to be difficult, impatient and demanding. This can hurt the feelings of the one who is offering care and over time can lead to feelings of resentment. Learning patience in the face of impatience is another challenging spiritual practice.

These two challenges point to a third essential spiritual practice -- the discipline of self-care. In order to ward off the demons of boredom and resentment makes it essential that find ways to attend to our own needs in regular, consistent ways. This may be as simple as a daily walk to clear our heads, or quiet time in the mornings to read, think, or pray. But without this discipline, the demons are likely to loom large. 

This is not a journey that either of us would have chosen, and yet there have been incredible blessings along the way. One of ways we have been blessed has been the myriad ways that people have reached out to us in care. One of those that stands out in my memory is from an angel right here in our midst -- Sally Fisk. Sally was able to put into words how this experience of crossing over from the world of the well to the world of the not-well has unveiled some deeper truths. She wrote:

From my own recent illness, I have begun to learn the (both) heartbreaking and sometimes generously beautiful truth that life is a force beyond my knowing, beyond my control. I will keep my heart open and receptive during the cyclical twists and turns of Bob's, and your, healing. Gifts can come in unimaginable ways.

Over the course of my illness, the most challenging reality has been and remains the cyclical nature of healing. It is not linear. It circles up and down, sideways and back. I would make a step forward and feel the rush of hope, catch a glimpse of my old self, see the possibility of having my health restored. Then I'd stumble backward and fall under the crush of disappointment, and sometimes despair, exhaustion and fear. But then the cycle of healing would lift me upward and hope would come again, and yes, the cycle down also came again --- and again and again. It is very rough going, no doubt about it.

For those of us who are used to linear movements, quantum leaps, and seeing our intention and skills bring impressive results this cycle stuff is hard to take. The "set-backs" can bring us to our knees. But I can assure you that there is a strength building deep within you both. You will find your way out of deep water to the shore. There is something very powerful in motion. I cannot name it. But I have experienced it and received its gifts. You [my friends] will too.

-Megan

An Update as of 9-20-13

Bob and I have declared today, September 20, 2013, as his turning point day. We have just returned from a four day visit to the Mayo Clinic. The news there was not altogether good. Despite Bob’s diligent efforts to improve his memory using the computer program Lumosity, and our general impression that Bob’s memory for events during the past ten years was improving, his scores on his neuropsych assessment were no better and in some cases worse than they were in June. That test was what our neurologist was using as a marker for how much good the aggressive immune suppression was working. In addition, both of the neurologists we see at Mayo were concerned about the number of seizures that Bob has been continuing to have, even though the intensity of the events has improved somewhat.

What was encouraging was that Bob had a sleep study while we were there and he was diagnosed with sleep apnea. The study showed that his breathing stopped 50 times in two hours! That is not good news, except that it leads to a new intervention that we are hopeful can make a significant difference in the healing of Bob’s brain. “If you’re not getting a good nights’ sleep” our neurologist said flatly, prior to the sleep study, “then we are beating our heads against a brick wall.” Alas, it appears as though we have.

We also returned with plans to make a change in one of Bob’s anti-seizure medications, introducing a new medication and gradually discontinuing one that we have felt was causing some unpleasant side effects, such as a strange feeling up and down the left side of his body. We will also continue with the immune suppression infusions for several more weeks and then gradually wean off of them once we have a chance to see the effects of the new medication.

While we were at Mayo, our days were quite full with various medical appointments. One day when we only had appointments early and late in the day, we spent the middle of the day camped out in one of the waiting rooms as a “checker” for a third neurologist who we hoped to see. This is a big thing that is done at Mayo, when you can’t get an appointment with a doctor who you want to see, you sign in and then wait to see if anyone doesn’t show up for their appointment so that you can have their slot. We were not successful, and a nap probably would have done Bob more good, but at least we got to partake in that particular part of the Mayo culture.

We also managed to have three significant accomplishments while we were in Rochester. I, at long last, submitted my final revision of the second edition of my book Trust Matters to my publisher! It feels wonderful to have that project on its way to the presses! Meanwhile, Bob and Maura submitted a substantial proposal in response to an attractive RFP. And we had a delightful conversation with the superintendent of the Rochester Public Schools. So our week was productive even beyond the outstanding medical care Bob received.

We returned home last evening and spent today on a 13 hour odyssey from Toano to Newport News to implement these new treatments. There were phone calls to various providers, insurance permissions to sort out, getting fitted for his new CPAP machine, and a trip to a far flung pharmacy when our local pharmacy did not have two of the medications that Bob needed. By the end of a long day, we were finally able to accomplish all of our errands and returned home feeling hopeful that we are now on a path that will create the conditions for Bob’s brain to heal.

With that I will say “Good night, and sweet dreams!” We will be dreaming of nourishing sleep and healthy days ahead. 

-Megan

An Update as of 8-30-13

One year ago today, Bob slept late – which is usual for him. The day before, he had been so tired that he fell asleep while we were stopped at a stoplight while driving home from a workshop we’d given. So I was glad he was getting a little extra sleep. By 9:00 AM, however, I began to worry a little and decided to check on him. So I made him some tea and grabbed the newspaper to take in to him. I found him already up and standing in the bathroom. I offered him his tea but he refused to take the cup, saying that he felt strange and unsteady and that was afraid he might drop it.  

Little did we realize the terrifying and mysterious adventure that was about to begin. How could we know that that cup of tea would play a starring role in saving his life. As Bob carried his tea and paper to the kitchen, he must have felt something coming on. He bent to set that cup gently on the floor just before he began to seize. Because he was already so low to the ground, he slid down those stairs, rather than tumbling down from a standing position which could resulted in much more serious injuries.  

We could not have anticipated, on that bright sunny morning, that just two days later Bob would pass a terrifying night in which his breathing and heart would stop five times. We would never have guessed that he would soon have to be put into a medically-induced coma, and that he would end up teetering for days on the brink between life and death for three long weeks. And certainly we could not have seen the mysterious power of God played out in small serendipities and amazing convergences that have surprised and delighted us throughout this year.

I find myself with a jumble of many emotions as I reflect on the past year. The most prominent emotion, of course, is gratitude: gratitude for the gift of life, gratitude that we have each other as well as our children, and gratitude for all the ways that we have been cared for and held in prayer by such a large and amazing circle of family and friends. We are grateful for the doctors and nurses whose knowledge and skill has directed the course of this healing journey, as well as for all of the medical technicians who have run respirators and MRI machines, checked blood work, and administered all of the myriad tasks it has taken to keep Bob alive. It is truly awe-inspiring to remember and to celebrate all of the people who have contributed to Bob’s progress back to health. For each of you, we give thanks.  

I also feel a measure of concern.  Ten weeks into our 12-week experiment of aggressive immune suppression from the Mayo Clinic, Bob’s progress is modest. Bob continues to have one or two small seizures almost every day. Yesterday, he had three. Although these seizures have mostly diminished in intensity, there are still occasional bouts when they become more severe, especially when Bob gets engaged in something he cares about and overdoes it. After a lifetime of pushing through feelings of fatigue to accomplish many amazing things, including running more than 40 marathons or writing his weekly newsletter, it is hard now for Bob to develop a regular pattern of rest and recovery or to pull back and rest when he’s feeling tired. 

We head back to the Mayo Clinic on September 15 and we would ask for your prayers for the wisdom for our doctors as they make the decisions that will continue to guide Bob on a path that will we hope will lead to a full recovery.

For now, we are ready to celebrate! We are throwing a “Happy to Be Alive” party at our house this Sunday afternoon, September 1, from 3-8 PM. If you are nearby, we’d love to have you stop in and say hello. We are truly happy to alive! 

-Megan

A Celebration of Life

Friends and Family! On Labor Day weekend, we will be helping Bob and Megan celebrate a year of new life. In order to include all of you in this wonderful celebration, we're inviting you to send in e-mails with stories, pictures, or videos that you'd like to share with Bob and Megan. These can be personal messages of hope, inspiration, or gratitude. Use your talents to help us celebrate a year of healing and love for Bob and Megan. All of you were and continue to be a source of great hope and strength for them. 

Please keep your messages brief and focused on celebrating all that is wonderful with the world, in particular in Bob's health and good spirits. This will be a surprise for them that we'll video-tape their reaction to and post here on the blog for you to experience. All e-mails should be sent to Michelle Tschannen at METschannen @ gmail dot com by Friday, August 30, 2013.

Thank you for all the ways you have blessed our family this past year!

-Michelle

An Update as of 8/13/13

My favorite part of our time at the Mayo Clinic in June was when our neurologist told us not to work so hard at trying to avoid seizures so as to stop doing the things that give our life a sense of meaning and purpose. We have really taken that advice to heart and have had a fun summer spending time with so many of the people we love.

In May we celebrated our niece Rebekah’s graduation from Eckert College in Florida and spent a week at the beach with our extended family, including time with Bryn and Evan. Then in June, after spending two weeks at the Mayo Clinic, we spent a week at the Chautauqua Institution with 17 members of our extended family ranging in age from 6 months to 90 years old (including our grandson Everest, our great niece Cora, her brother Tristan, the Jackson kids, as well as Bob’s Dad and Uncle Jim, his last remaining brother).

We were home for the month of July while I taught a course at William & Mary, and enjoyed engaging with my students. Then we were visited by our dear friend Jim, who made the mistake of mentioning that he wanted to come “help out”, and ended up washing every window in our house! (This, having just washed every window in his own house!). Then Jennie and two of the three kids that she adopted from Russia arrived and we celebrated the six-year anniversary of their adoption. On the heels of that visit, we got a call that Bob’s dad had been hospitalized for a case of Cellulites and we knew that Bob’s sister Laurel had to be out of town, so we hopped in the car and headed for Cleveland. We had a lovely visit there for almost two weeks as Dad daily progressed. At one point, I had to fly back to DC overnight for a speaking engagement and Bob and Dad looked out for one another.

We took the long way home from Cleveland, stopping in Toledo for another speaking engagement, and while we were there we popped in to see my cousin Alix and my Aunt Lois and Uncle Phil. Then we headed to Columbus for more time relaxing with the Jackson’s in their lovely new home before soaking up some of the good farm energy at Maura and Dave’s. Finally we headed back home again.

It is good to be home. We are filled with gratitude for the people we love and those who love us, those who we’ve spent time with and those who we have connected with virtually through this blog. Bob’s progress is very gradual, as they told us it might be. He has still been having nearly daily seizures, although the intensity and duration of them is less severe. Occasionally the more optimistic narrative of steady progress we are telling ourselves is interrupted by a more significant seizure or memory lapse. In those moments, we have to take a deep breath and steady ourselves, and then get right back to the things that give our lives a sense of meaning and purpose.

 It helps so much to feel that we are held in a warm circle of care. Thank you. 

-Megan 

An Update as 7/17/13

Dr. Pittock, our neurologist at Mayo, told us that it might take up to four weeks for the steroids Bob is taking to take full effect. So we have been holding onto hope that they just needed more time. Bob had his fourth infusion yesterday and while we have had a few seizure-free days that have raised our hopes, the partial seizures he has been having have not disappeared altogether as we wish they would. We were warned back in the fall at UVA that it is difficult to get a brain that is in the habit of seizing to stop seizing and that certainly has been our experience since April. It has also been hard to see a pattern for what precipitates these events. We were so pleased on Sunday when Bob had a seizure-free day despite a busy day swimming with our grandson Everest, playing Frisbee golf with Evan and his two friends Eric and AJ, and then working into the evening to install a ceiling fan. And then today he had three “episodes” on what was a relatively quiet day.

We have nevertheless not given up hope and are learning to be productive and happy even as things are now. So, one way or another, we are encouraged by our prospects and possibilities. Please continue to keep us in your hopes, dreams, and prayers.

-Megan

An Update as of 6/25/13

Life has been full and rich with family time since we left the Mayo Clinic on June 14. We were home only three days, busy catching up with things that needed attending to and repacking our suitcases. We then headed to Columbus, OH, where we presented a workshop at the Ohio Connect for Success conference on Wednesday afternoon, and then enjoyed family time on Thursday and Friday before heading to the Chautauqua Institution, where we are vacationing with a extended family group of 17, including our 11-month-old grandson Everest, and our 5-month-old great niece Cora.

In our final wrap up with our two neurologists at Mayo, the decision was made to stay with the plan of 12 weeks of aggressive immune suppression to “test the concept” that Bob’s current difficulties are the result of an ongoing immune response or whether they are instead being caused by the scar tissue that is in his brain. When we return to Mayo at the end of these 12 weeks, Bob will retake the memory assessment he had on this visit. If there is substantial improvement (at least 30%), then we will conclude that the immune suppression is having a positive effect. If there is no real improvement, then the conclusion will be that the damage has been done and that we will instead turn to achieving better seizure control and developing compensation strategies for Bob’s current deficits. So we have a lot riding on the next 12 weeks. Our neurologist is skeptical that this trial will be successful, and has estimated that we have only about a 20% chance that the deficits are reversible, but we are steadfastly holding onto the hope that things can improve.  

Although there are certainly moments of discouragement, there are also beautiful moments that renew our spirits. We had one such moment while we were home. After Bob had worked hard for several hours mowing the lawn and cleaning out the beds, he called me to join him on the dock. He was tired so we laid down on our backs and gazed at the sky. Although it was a cloudy day, there was no rain in sight. And yet, as we looked up in astonishment, a rainbow appeared sideways as if part of a halo over the earth.

This was especially significant because we chose the rainbow as the theme for the wedding 37 years ago, proclaiming that it was “a sign of the covenant.” We looked at one another and said “everything is going to be all right.”

An Update as o6/13/13f

After two months of too much seizure activity, it was a relief to land here at the Mayo Clinic last week and to have four good days with no seizures at all. It was as if even the air here contained a special healing magic. But then on Friday, Bob had one small seizure. This was followed by four on Saturday, five on Sunday, and six on Monday. Clearly things have not been going in the direction we had hoped. But at least we are here in the company of world experts who can be involved in puzzling through this mystery. On Monday, Bob was hooked up to a continuous EEG to gather data about the electrical activity in his brain.

This was to have been a two-day test, but on Monday evening he had a particularly long-lasting seizure. This episode was exasperated by a fire alarm in our hotel, with all of the noise of the alarms, flashing lights and sirens (it turned out to have been a fire in the elevator engine room). We were all evacuated and Bob and I kept walking away from the noise and took refuge in a small park in a nearby residential area. There were two young boys playing on the playground who kept looking over at Bob, with his head all wrapped up with gauze. So he went to chat with them to allay any fears they might have. He asked them what they were playing and they said they were playing Zombies. He asked what Zombies were and they confessed “We think that YOU are a Zombie!”  Bob assured them that if he WAS a Zombie, he was a friendly Zombie and that they didn’t need to be afraid. We got  chuckle out of that.

All of that noise and excitement was not good for Bob’s inflamed brain and we ended up going to the ER Monday night. The next day he was hospitalized to receive some strong steroid treatments and to continue the monitoring. Three days in, things have still not settled down to the extent that we’d like, so it may be time to consider even more aggressive treatments.

We’ll keep you posted. As always, we are so grateful for your continued love, prayers, and concern.

An Update as of 6/8/13

This is Bob, here, sending in an update from the Mayo Clinic in Rochester, Minnesota. I’ve been giving the world’s experts in my mysterious condition a real puzzle and even stumping them as to what is actually going on. The word is not all good and not all bad from the tests they have run, which will now continue on into next week. There has been and is some permanent damage to certain parts of my brain, especially the parts involving memory. It is not fully known, however, as to how much of that is recoverable and/or can be picked up by other parts of my brain. This is clearly a marathon and not a sprint. Fortunately, I have a lot of experience with marathons. The next few months will be crucial, with more tests and treatments. Life goes on – that’s the good thing – yet not the way anyone expected or would have desired. What a strange and curious time. Everyone’s hopes and prayers for a full recovery are appreciated. I love and value the community that is holding me and my family up in your thoughts and prayers and the work we all have yet to do together as a wide, extended community of hope.

That said, I want to share a wonderful serendipity. Early this morning I was feeling a little scared and sad about the challenges I have been facing so, while Megan was still sleeping, I went out for a walk to clear my head. The people at the front desk gave me a map and pointed me in the direction of Silver Lake Park, where they said I would find plenty of trails and inspiration. Setting out, I took pictures of landmarks along the way to make sure I would be able to get back to the hotel safely.

Much to my surprise and delight, I arrived at the park just as the gun was about to go off for the start of a 5K race that was devoted to raising consciousness about and money for cancer survivors. Showing up at just that moment was really amazing. I have not run an actual race, something that has been very important to me for many, many years, since the start of this whole ordeal as the end of last August. So seeing the race all set up, with all the people and balloons and support personnel, really started my adrenaline flowing. I immediately knew: I was doing this race.

The race was designed with two groups of participants: runners and walkers. I joined in with the walkers and I walked around the entire lake, never getting lost or dehydrated because the route was clearly marked with several water stops along the way. To my delight, I didn’t even come in last! This was the first race I have participated in since the start of this whole ordeal at the end of last August, and it felt great to be out on a course again. By the time I got back to the hotel, I had gone about 5 miles and then, later in the day, Megan and I went back over to the lake in our car, to walk around it again. She thoroughly enjoyed being outside, in nature, with the gifts of God so clearly at hand.

How could anyone plan something like that? To show up at a random place, at a random time, right when a perfectly designed race was about to start? Amazing! It’s enough to make you think that the anxiety and stress of this ordeal notwithstanding, everything is going to be all right.

 

An Update as of 6/4/13

We had a good first day at Mayo. Because it was drizzling rain, we decided to take the underground walkway to the clinic. It was a short walk from our hotel and we never even had to go outside. We were surprised, as we got off the elevator in the basement of our hotel, to find the walkway as busy and as crowded as any morning rush hour train! We took the plunge and joined the stream of people flowing briskly toward this medical mecca, the sick and the well together. 

When we arrived at our appointment, the waiting room of about 60 chairs was already filling up, even at 7:15 in the morning, with a long line forming down the middle.  Four women at computers worked to check people in at the front of the room. When it was our turn, we handed over the three sets of medical records we'd brought with us, along with five CDs of images, and we were given a pager.

When we got to see the doctor, he spent nearly an hour with us, efficiently asking questions and gathering information to piece together the storyline of the past 9 months. Bryn joined us on speaker phone and made an invaluable contribution. One thing that stood out to me in that conversation was that he said that people who he sees with this condition have rarely been diagnosed as quickly and had treatment begun as early in the disease process, and that Bob's current level of functioning and even his being alive is attributable to that, thanks to Bryn's tenaciousness. 

When it got to the recommendations part of the conversation, lots of information was coming at us pretty rapidly. Thanks to tenacity and good fortune, over the next three days Bob will have bloodwork done, a PET Scan, an EEG, an MRI, and three other appointments with doctors. Like our last hospitalization, they are being very efficient in gathering the necessary information to make informed adjustments to his treatment.

Dr. Pittock acknowledged that we don't know and can't know at this point about the level of reversability of Bob's current deficits, but we all remain hopeful that if we can get the inflammation to settle down, his brain can heal.

Thank you for staying with us on this long journey. We are grateful for your prayers.

Megan

An Update as of 6-3-13

We have arrived safely in Rochester and have settled into our hotel, which is just a block from the Mayo Clinic. We don’t know how long we will be here, but we have our first appointment with our new doctor, Dr. Sean Pittock, at 7:30 tomorrow morning. We are so hopeful that the next chapter in this long yet curiously promising journey will bring new insights, strategies, and healing.

We had a beautiful little moment of encouragement as we pulled into Rochester. Music has become very important to Bob during this healing process. That is apparently not uncommon among people with brain disorders and doctors speculate that it is because music resonates so deeply in the brain. Bob has found plenty of new music that he enjoys, but nothing resonates quite so deeply as Paul Simon’s Graceland CD. In preparation for our trip, Bob spent a long time yesterday transferring some of the new music he’d bought to our phones and laptops. On the flight to Minneapolis, he relaxed listening to that music. But as we approached Rochester in the rental car, Bob confided with a twinkle in his eye that there was one album he had not listened to on the plane, and I knew without asking that it was Graceland. He said that he was saving that for getting to Rochester.

The sound system in our rental car is newer than the one in our car, and Bob realized that he could play the songs from his phone through the car radio if he just had the right cable. So the next thing I knew, he had programmed the GPS to navigate to Best Buy, where he, indeed, found the cable he needed. As soon as he was back in the car, he had the first song on Graceland blaring through the radio. It was also about dinnertime, so as we left Best Buy, I navigated to Chipotle for a couple of quick salads before heading to the hotel. It was only two tenths of a mile between the two stores, so we were just starting to rock out when we pulled into our parking space at Chipotle. As I turned off the engine and we got out of the car, I did a double take, because amazingly the very same song was playing in the outdoor dining area of the restaurant! That song, The Boy in the Bubble, includes a line that says “These are the days of miracle and wonder, and don’t cry baby, don’t cry, don’t cry.” It felt like a personalized welcome to Bob, saying this is a place of healing for you. And so the adventure begins!

-Megan

An Update as 5/27/13

This past week we enjoyed some lovely time with family. Our niece Rebekah graduated from Eckerd College in Florida with a degree in Marine Biology. That created the perfect opportunity for us all to gather for a relaxing week at the beach. We stayed in the charming little village of Passe a Grille.

I am especially grateful that Delta Airlines was as flexible and accommodating as they were because of the number of times our travel plans changed from when we originally booked the trip in January. First we had to push our trip back from Thursday to Friday when Bob was scheduled to get a second dose of Rituxan on Friday. Then because of a prolonged negotiation with our insurance company over payment for the medication, Bob's infusion didn't get started until midday, which caused us to miss our Friday evening flight and to go instead on Saturday morning. We also changed our flight to return on Thursday so that Bob could have his next infusion on Friday. Then midweek it was determined that it might be best to wait until our consultation with the doctors at Mayo Clinic before having more infusions. That meant we could stay at the beach until Saturday. So we changed our flights once again! And because it was for medical reasons (and Bob is a good negotiator) the good people at Delta did not charge us any change fees for all that craziness!

When we returned home, we got to spend a day and a half with Evan, Michelle, and our dear grand baby Everest. 

Through busy days and restful days alike, Bob has continued to have two to four small seizures a day. It takes several weeks for the Rituxan to take effect, so we are hoping it will do the tricksoon. We are eager to get to Mayo next week and hopeful that they can help us find some long-term solutions. In the meantime, we are enjoying the many blessings of life.

On this day of Memory, I hope that you took a moment for gratitude for those you love as well. It is good day to be thankful.

Megan

An Update as of 5-14-13

We are blessed to have wonderful doctors on our team! Bryn has, of course, been the star of our team. And thanks to a willingness to fit us into an already busy schedule, we were able to meet with our team captain, our neurologist, Dr. Blair Marsteller, while Bryn was in town to stay with Bob while I was at a conference. During that meeting, it became evident that Bob was going to need another round of one of the chemo drugs he was on in the fall. Dr. Marsteller made arrangements for Bob to be admitted to the hospital on Thursday and he also recruited a new member of our team, Dr. Kim Slesinger, an oncologist, to administer that medication. He also made use of our time in the hospital to once again start a round of the IV Steroids that Bob responded to well this winter, as well as to order other tests such as a CT Scan, a spinal tap, and more bloodwork to send to the world expert, Dr. Dalmau, in Spain. Dr. Marsteller also recruited yet another smart doctor to our team. We will be traveling to see Dr. Pittock, a neurologist at the Mayo Clinic in Rochester, MN, in early June. Dr. Pittock specializes in autoimmune neurology, one of only a few in this new specialty.

Bob has been doing better since starting on this new round of treatments.   The frequency and duration of his “episodes” has been reduced significantly. We are hopeful that there are answers to be found and that we have the right team in place to find them.

Thank you for your continued prayers and concern.

-Megan

Update:

Happily, Bob was only hospitalized for 2 days to receive the necessary dosage of Rituxin that he needed. In typical Bob and Megan style, life gave them a wonderful weekend of celebration as Megan was awarded the 2012 Thomas Ashley Graves, Jr. Award from The College of William and Mary during graduation on Sunday. Saturday evening, they attended a black tie event where Megan was also recognized for her esteemed work in education. As Bob said in an e-mail to family this weekend, "This was Megan's big day. Enjoy the pictures; trust me: I am sending you the best of too many!"

-Michelle





 

An Update as of 5/9/13

Hey Everybody,

I wanted to let you know that Bob is back in the hospital again. He was admitted this morning in order to begin another round of treatment with Rituxan. He is also having Solumedrol while he is here as well as lots of tests to see what's going on. That's because despite his being on strong steroids, his brain has been inflammed up again. While this has been discouraging, we are hopeful that the new round of medication is what he needs now to support his healing.

We are blessed to have our friend Doug McCready visiting from Columbus. That has been a great comfort. It is amazing that he happened to be here right when all this happened.

Thank you for hanging in there with us through this long journey.

Megan

An Update as of 4/20/13

“Look at the sky!” Bob just shouted up the stairs a little while ago, and then came bounding up to sit beside me on the couch as we gazed out the window to the west. There the sky was a luminescent peach against a deep blue backdrop, contrasted against the dark lacy patterns of the leaves of the oak trees. On the water, bright peachy reflections cut by the arrowhead ripples of a last water bird paddling down the lake to find a safe haven for the night. To the southwest, fluffy cotton candy pinks and blues, blending as the sun sank to a lavender, and then purple deepening to the indigo of the night sky.

Our spirits are sustained by beauty, even during trying times.

And beauty there is in abundance this time of the year! This afternoon on the way home from doing some errands, Bob and I decided to take the long way home and drive around the little lake where we make our home. Just this week, the woods have been transformed from naked sticks and trunks, to a splatter painting of the lime green of new leaves. The dogwoods are in bloom and the azaleas are coming on, and it is breathtaking!

We followed the route that we often take on our bikes on a lovely spring day, after Bob has pumped air into tires that had grown soft over the winter, cleaned off the cobwebs, and greased the gears with a bit of oil. The bikes will stay hung and the tires soft this year, as a bike is no place for someone who might have a seizure. Instead we rolled down the windows and drove slowly past the magnificence unfolding in our neighbor’s gardens, drinking in the purples, and pinks, and whites.

This evening we are celebrating two seizure-free days in a row (for a total of 4 in the past 10 days), hopeful that with the recent changes to Bob’s medications that we are once again getting things back under control. This journey is turning out to be longer and more complicated than we had once hoped, but there is still much to be grateful for and we still hold a vision of a full recovery for Bob. Neither of us will ever be quite the same again, but we can imagine that life may be even sweeter as we keep a clearer focus on what is really important.  

I have had three friends who have lost their husbands during the time that Bob has been sick, and my heart aches when I consider the emptiness they now find in the space once filled by a living, breathing, smart, funny, warm-hearted person who they loved. Thich Nhat Hanh, a Buddhist monk, has described a hugging meditation in which we hug a person we love three times. As I remember it, with the first hug we recognize that one day the other person will no longer be with us, but that right now we have this present moment and are grateful. With the second hug, we recognize that one day, we will no longer be on this earth, but that right now we have this present moment and are grateful. And with the third hug, we recognize that one day neither of us will be here, but that right now we share this present moment and we are grateful.  

Who would you like to hug right now?

-Megan

 

An Award for Megan

As we all know, Megan has been an absolute saint during this entire ordeal. Even though we're still in the midst of this crisis, she continues to find ways to celebrate life and keep everyone in positive spirits. Bob has frequently told us that he contributes much of his healing to Megan standing so lovingly by his side, literally holding his hands throughout the entire process. 

It is with great excitement and joy that I share the following news with you:

Megan was chosen by the College of William and Mary to receive the Thomas Ashley Graves, Jr. Award for Sustained Excellence in Teaching. This is one of the College's highest honors and she will be recognized at graduation this year. She was sent a personal letter of recognition from the President of the University yesterday.

We are immensely proud of Megan and are so grateful for the College's recognition of her continued dedication to her students. As Erika said, "Of course, we know that you are not just an excellent teacher of education, but of life - of resilience, honor, authenticity, respectfulness and love that overflows!" If you want to send along congratulations to Megan, please e-mail me (METschannen@gmail.com) and I can send you her email  or mailing address. It's so wonderful to have something to celebrate during these difficult days and Megan is beyond deserving of praise and celebration!

-Michelle

An Update as of 4/13/13

We have hit a bit of a rough patch since I last posted to the blog. A few days after that post, Bob began having some seizures spaced a few days apart. And then, as they have before, they began to come more and more frequently. We decided that the pulse of steroids every 6 weeks did not seem to be providing the level of protection that we had hoped so we have now changed to a course of oral steroids three days per week. The plan is to have a very slow taper over the next ten months. We are hoping that today turns out to be our first seizure-free day (so far so good!) and that it will be the beginning of a long string of seizure-free days.

It has been a puzzle from the beginning to know how much immune suppression to do and for how long, and this latest episode has just let us know that we needed to do a little more for a little longer than we had planned. Please continue to keep Bob in your prayers as these next few weeks are important ones.

 -Megan

Update as of 3/25/13

Today we reached another important milestone on the path back to “life as usual.” We moved Bob’s office out of the dining room on the main floor of our house and back to what we affectionately call the “World Headquarters” in the basement. This has involved some significant technology challenges, with dismantling and reassembling computers, monitors, a printer, and a fax machine, untangling phone lines, and sorting through piles of accumulated papers, pens, etc. It has been a big job, and we are not finished yet, but Bob has managed to figure it all out. It may take him longer than it once would have, and he sometimes makes mistakes that can take a long time to untangle. But I am impressed at how well he is doing at recovering his former capabilities, even for these complex tasks.

This move is an act of faith that the regimen we’ve now settled on of a burst of IV steroids every six weeks will be enough to keep Bob safe from seizures over the next five months. One of the puzzles of navigating Bob’s healing journey has been to know how much immune suppression to do and for how long. We’ve tried to negotiate an intermediate path, less severe than the four to six months of Cytoxan suggested by some experts. What the recent seizures have let us know is that we need a bit more than we’ve done and for a bit longer. So we’ve mapped out a plan to take us to the one year anniversary of the start of this adventure.

At the end of last week we were back in Charlottesville where I was attending a Women in Educational Leadership in Virginia conference. We joked that we’d made Bob an honorary woman because he now is so easily moved to tears. While there, we went to visit two of the doctors who cared for Bob this fall, as well as many of the nurses and therapists who worked with him. Both doctors were incredibly generous with their time, each spending over an hour with us. Everyone was so pleased to see the tremendous progress that Bob has made, despite his continuing challenges with memory. We will be forever grateful for all of the people who participated in bringing Bob back to life.

Life has assumed a close enough approximation to life before that even if it were to plateau at this point we could manage and be very happy. But with Bob’s boundless curiosity and drive, we are hopeful that his progress will continue.

Thank you for being among the cloud of witnesses who have held Bob and me in your hearts throughout this healing journey.   

-Megan

An Update as of 3/8/13

It seems that Bob’s well-intentioned but misguided immune system is once again getting riled up in some unhelpful ways. In the past few days, Bob has had several small neurological incidents and one small seizure. Both our neurologist and Bryn agree that another course of steroids is in order to try to calm things down before Bob’s immune system goes on the attack in even more aggressive ways.

As anyone who has struggled with an autoimmune disorder can attest, trying to reset a overzealous immune system so that it keeps attacking the very real threats that it is supposed to protect us from, and stops attacking our own vital, healthy tissue that we need to survive is no small matter. It is an imprecise science at best, and the tools the medical profession have at their disposal, while so much better than they had even a generation ago, are not able to target specific functions to turn on or off. So we keep trying our best to calm down the immune system without turning it off altogether which would leave Bob defenseless in the face of even everyday germs and bacteria.

These ongoing challenges have not kept us from having a good time while we are here with Bryn and Andres. On Tuesday, we traveled to Zion National Park and spent our time there is a state of awe and wonder at the majesty of the natural beauty there. Bryn was a little nonplussed when one of the rangers asked her if she was on spring break, perhaps thinking she was an undergraduate. She said to me “You’d have been happy if they’d asked YOU that!”, and I said I would have replied “As a matter of fact, I am!”

We also had a lovely visit to Lake Las Vegas, where there is a small artsy community on the shores of the lake. We had a scrumptious lunch there and then spent a little time wandering the shops when something very surprising happened. Driving the 25 miles from downtown to this small community, I had commented about how much the terrain around Las Vegas reminded me of parts of Israel we’d visited. I had been thinking about our time in Israel lately because just a few days before we left to come on this trip, Bob and I finally got around to hanging up the pictures in the lower level of our house after the mold remediation we’d had done over the holidays.

Among the pictures we hung was a piece that I’d bought when we visited the ruins of King Herod’s Palace at Caesarea in Israel. There is an artsy village there and in one of the galleries, I was taken by the bright painting produced through a unique process made from the dyed fibers of recycled pop bottles. I had never bought a piece of original art before, but I fell in love with the whimsical birds and decided I had to have one. I selected a small piece about one foot square to serve as my souvenir from our trip. But now, as I was re-hanging that piece in our basement, I thought that my little bird looked lonely and I was wishing that I’d bought two. The thought crossed my mind that I could probably find that gallery on the Internet and buy another. But those are the kinds of thoughts that tend to cross my mind, and not get acted on.

Well, here we are a week later strolling around this small, sparsely populated village in the middle of a desert and wander into a gallery to find the same bright paintings I had seen in Israel!  And there are my whimsical birds, along with the artist, Alycia Dighorka, herself!  She had moved from Caesarea and had just opened this gallery in Lake Las Vegas in December.  She originated this unique form that she calls “soft paintings” and is the only one in the world to use it (www.artnova-nv.com).  Of all of the places on the planet that she might have landed, here she was in Lake Las Vegas and we ended up there as well. As you might imagine, I am now in procession of my second piece of original artwork, and  my little bird will no longer be so lonely!

When something that strange and wonderful happens, I just have to believe that in the end, everything will be all right. 

-Megan

An Update as of 3/3/13

We have now reached the six months mile post in this healing adventure. We had a discouraging moment on Thursday when Bob broke his month-long winning streak and had a full-blown seizure.

Bob had gotten up early that morning and had been working intensely for several hours because he finally had the tools he needed to get all of our electronic devices talking to one another. On top of that, we were packing to leave town for a week to visit Bryn and Andres in Las Vegas, with the time pressure of a flight to catch in DC. I came in from taking the final load to the car, singing out that I was ready to go, and I found him standing and staring in the hallway, near the top of the same flight of stairs that he’d fallen down on August 30. I was so thankful in that moment for the gate that we’d had installed at the top of those stairs! I went to him to hold him and he collapsed into my arms. I was able to gently lower him to the floor, where he laid for several long minutes until he began to regain consciousness. It worried me to think of what a fall he might have taken if I had not been right there at that moment.

After Bob began to emerge from his confusion after the seizure, I was uncertain about whether to postpone our trip by a day or to press on. I called Bryn and she thought that because the first leg of our journey was a two-hour drive in which Bob could rest and/or sleep, that it was worth continuing on, knowing that we could simply stay with Evan and Michelle overnight in DC if there were any further problems. So off we went, and other than having to maneuver around DC traffic at rush hour, everything went smoothly for the rest of the trip. We both slept well on the plane and we arrived in Las Vegas that evening in fine shape.

Bob did have one additional neurological blip on Friday when we got off schedule with eating so his blood sugar got low, and his left leg gave out on him when we were out for a walk. Both of these incidents have been potent reminders of the ways that we need to make different choices in the balance between self-care and the very enticing prospect of getting just one more thing ticked off our task lists!  

We have been very much enjoying our time with Bryn and Andres. The weather has been lovely, so we have enjoyed relaxing in their backyard. Yesterday, we went hiking on the red rocks of the Valley of Fire National Park. It was spectacular in its beauty! In the evening, we went to the Stratosphere and had a delightful dinner overlooking the city with Bryn and Andres’ friend Tracy. Afterwards, we enjoyed the Frankie Moreno show, thanks to Tracy, who knows Frankie and scored some last minute complementary tickets! To get to the restaurant and show we had to walk a short distance through a casino. That is the one thing that I had hoped to avoid while here, because of all of the blinking lights and noise. But it turns out to be harder to avoid than you’d think, as there are even slot machines in the airport! And fortunately, Bob did just fine. Note to self: what a difference staying on a regular schedule of sleeping and eating can make in terms of healing and neurological health!  

These latest episodes have again raised the question of whether we have done enough immune suppression to have reset Bob’s wayward immune system to keep it from attacking his brain. We’re hopeful that these were isolated incidents and that he is back on track to a calm, healthy brain!

Thank you for your continued caring, kind thoughts and prayers. 

-Megan

An Update as 2/23/13

e are celebrating this evening that Bob has now been seizure free four weeks! That is the longest stretch yet and we are encouraged that he is doing so well after his setback in January. We’re hoping to keep up this winning streak!

Life is more and more taking on the shape of normal life, but there are certainly plenty of differences. The biggest difference is Bob himself. In his heightened emotional state, he is easily moved to tears by touching things that happen, like the parade of yellow, green, and orange postcards that continue to arrive to let Bob know that people are still thinking of him. Bob feels very connected to all living things in our surroundings, especially to a bald eagle he has nicknamed Apollo who has been frequenting the neighborhood and sometimes perches in one of the oak trees in our yard to check in on Bob. Bob is very sweet and wants to do anything that he can to help me.

Bob has no real conception of the passage of time, so he has lost a sense of time-urgency that has too often characterized our lives. Bob eats more slowly than I do now, and doesn’t ever seem to be in a hurry. One of my pet peeves throughout our marriage has been when Bob gets intent on where he’s going and ends up walking several feet in front of me. Now I’m the one trying to squeeze too  many errands into too short a time, and sometimes I pull up short realizing that I’m walking ahead of him! At those times, I try to slow down and hold hands so that we walk at a compromise pace. But it reminds me once again to be careful what I get annoyed at other people about!

Without such a sense of urgency to be rushing out the door, Bob is now more likely to tell me ‘You look nice!” And I’m more likely to be the one too intent on trying to make sure I’ve remembered everything that I’m too distracted to stop to take it in.  

Coping with a poor memory has also brought changes to our lives. Bob has always been a voracious reader and one of my challenges in keeping the house in some semblance of order has been having to cope with the stacks of reading material near each of his favorite reading spots. Now that he can’t remember what he’s read, reading has lost much of its appeal. What Bob is enjoying in its place is listening to music. He has especially enjoying listening to music from the 70’s and 80’s. Our friend Jim sent Bob a CD of the Crash Test Dummies, who we had completely forgotten about! Now Bob has purchased newer CDs from some of his favorite artists to have new things to listen to. So stacks of books have been replaced by stacks of CDs and vinyl records.

Things that have stayed the same are that Bob is still the primary cook in our house. He not only enjoys it more, he is much better than me. We have enjoyed some very delicious concoctions lately. In contrast, the other day I attempted to make some homemade chicken soup in the crock pot. When I thought it was about ready I asked Bob to taste it and doctor it up if he thought it needed it. “A bucket of water!” was his assessment. He went to work to spice it up and it turned into something yummy after all. And then this newly romantic husband of mine wanted to dine on chicken soup by candlelight!  

Bob is also enjoying getting back to his writing. And he has especially enjoyed co-teaching in our Evocative Coaching classes with our fabulous faculty.

There are still things that come up unexpectedly from time to time that remind us that his brain is still healing. On Thursday, we went to the dentist for a teeth cleaning and that turned out to be a bigger deal than I anticipated. They had to do an extra deep cleaning because apparently having been in the coma allowed bacteria to get deep into his gums. All of the noise and rattling of his head during the cleaning left Bob pretty unsteady on his feet for the next 24 hours or so. Then yesterday, he had an MRI, which was also noisy. Today he has felt a little dizzy at intervals, but is feeling better now.   

Thank you for your continued caring, and interest in Bob’s healing, and for the prayers that have sustained his healing. 

-Megan

An Update as of 2/14/13

You never know where your angels might find you. Tonight Bob and I popped into a little local Mexican restaurant for dinner on our way home from my office. When we walked in, a woman who neither of us recognized immediately began exclaiming how glad she was to see Bob and how amazing it was to see him looking so well. Bob apologized for not recognizing her and asked who she was. It turned out it was Jenny, who works in our accountant’s office, and her husband Mark. Jenny told Bob how much she and everyone in the office had been praying for him and following his progress on the blog. After chatting for a few moments, we went on to our table and ordered our dinners. At the end of our meal, when the server came to our table, she flipped through her order pad, and finding the right page she tore in out, saying “Your meal has been taken care of, and your friends left you this note. It said “Happy Valentine’s Day Bob and Megan!  God Bless, Jenny and Mark.” Both of us dissolved in tears at that unexpected act of kindness, and even more so at the thought of how many people outside of our awareness have been keeping us, and especially Bob, in their prayers.

We are especially in need of those prayers over the next few days. Today Bob took his last dose of the steroids he has been on to suppress his immune system since his recent setback. One of the ongoing puzzles in treating Bob’s illness has been to know how much immune suppression to give him and for how long. He will now be back on just the three anti-seizure drugs and Cellcept to suppress his immune system. We are fervently hoping that that is enough to keep his immune system calm and out of attack-mode, praying hard that we keep the seizures at bay.

In the meantime, inch by inch, life is slowly taking on the shape of normalcy. We are both learning a new, deeper variety of patience than we’ve ever known before because everything seems to take so much longer to get done. But little by little, things are getting done and checked off the to-do lists. Bob figured out how to fix the toilets, and we hired someone to come sort out the most pressing of the technology problems. Bob is back into problem-solving mode, using the Internet to help his figure out how to do things when he forgets how.  He is also faithfully documenting his days in his journal so that at the end of the day he can review what has happened and try to conjure up memories of those people and events. With the Dean Search over, I am trying to catch up on all of the other important things that got set aside in my work and also finding more time to meet with my students, which I enjoy.

Thank you for being among those angels who have kept surrounded us with love and care these past months. 

-Megan

An Update as 2/7/13

I just wanted to share the good news with you that the combination of prayers and medications has paid off and beginning yesterday (Wednesday) Bob has started doing much better again. He started saying that he noticed that he felt his thinking was clearer. His orientation in space is better again, and his memory, while still a challenge, is more like it was a few weeks ago than it has been in the past two weeks.

With this new found clarity, Bob has gotten back to work on various projects. Just this evening I think we may have finally escaped from technology hell, with no less than three hours of help from a technology professional. Email is now working on Bob’s laptop and desktop. What a relief! Now onto other projects, like reassembling those toilets! (No, we didn’t call a plumber -- yet.)

We said a grateful farewell to Bob’s dad yesterday morning as he finally got to fulfill his long-time wish to be a Snow Bird, visiting his brother Jim, his sole remaining sibling, out of ten, in Florida. 

-Megan