Perfect time for THAT conversation

I am here in my favorite place with my family.....life is perfect. I woke up yesterday at 5:30 am feeling like I was hit with a train. My bones ached to no end and I felt like I had one of those college day hangovers. Unfortunately again I did not have the fun the night before because I drunk no alchol. But I had to go and see the sunrise. I promised Nolan the night before that we would go to the beach for the sunrise and some shell collecting and then hit our favorite muffin shop. Nolan pretends to enjoy the sunrise as much as I do but if anyone knows him you know that he is all about the muffin run after. So I got myself together, picked up the camera and off we went.

I don't try to hide my pain from my children. I did for a long while after I was diagnosed but there is no need to do that now. They are living with my cancer and dealing with it. One reason is because I want them to realizes that despite my cancer and its effects I am loving life. Also, they are becoming men now at 11, 12, and 13 and I need their help. I depend on them for things now and I want them to understand that mommy is not running marathons or can bet them in a race anymore. Anymore.....I am so glad I can say ANYMORE because I am so glad I did those things when I could. Anyways, Nolan was so understanding when I told him I will point to the shells with my foot but he has to bend over to pick them up. It was actually fun.

The sunrise was once again amazing. In the begin of its ascendants it was covered behind a huge cloud. I thought it was going to be a dud of a morning so I wanted to leave. But Nolan told me to wait and be patient. Then within a half-hour there it was. God's performance again. That big orange ball rising up to start a new day. God how I love watching that miracle. I have written about it so many times and could write about it so many more times that it could be a whole book. Every time I am in just awe at how miraculous this process of renewal is. It is truly heaven on earth.

Which brings up Nolan and my conversation as we sat there on the beach with the water just reaching our toes. Out of no where he asked me what I thought heaven was like? I don't know why he brought it up, but I felt like God was tapping me on the shoulder and telling me to open up to him. So I answered, "I've never been there but I bet the sunrises are even more beautiful then this." He was quiet for about 15 seconds, probably processing what I just said and then he quietly said, "are you afraid to go to heaven mom? Because I know that is where you will go when you get way to sick". I really was way to sick to even begin to talk about this with him but I think God was telling me not to walk away from this conversation. I looked out into the ocean because I was afraid to look in those deep blue green eyes of his and I said very strongly, "Of course not. I imagine it to be the most peaceful and wonderfulest place ever."

We sat for awhile and then he started talking again but in a happy way. It's hard to described the tone of the conversation but it was not sad at all. It was not funny or happy but I guess peaceful. We started talking about things like what would dad do if I was not here anymore. He asked me if I would want dad to remarry. Then he jokingly said, "he would need to get some new manners, because sometimes Mom.....Ugh." The conversation just flowed naturally and it was very easy. Finally he asked the question that I hope I never know the answer to, "mom, how long until?" Until.....I knew what he meant. I'll I could answer was, "hopefully not for a long time." We sat for awhile longer then I could hear his stomach making some muffin want noises. We gathered our shells and towels and off we went.

When we got home everyone else was still sleeping and I was exhausted. So I woke Mark up sent him to outside to watch Nolan in the pool and went back to bed. Unfortunately the rest of the day I was useless. Mark and my mother took the boys to the beach and I stayed in bed only to get awaken every hour or so with phone calls from them checking on me. By the time they got home I was up and somewhat able to function. I swam a few laps and made some dinner for everyone and back to bed I went. Although, for most people yesterday would of seemed like a day of no accomplishments but for me it was a day of great peace. Sure I did not spend every minute surfing, building castles, playing volleyball or even just watching my boys do all that, but the time I spent in deep conversation with one of my boys was more then I could ever ask for.

Later that evening, I told him about the morning with Nolan. Of course he must put some rationalization onto why he brought up the subject. He even went as far as to say that maybe he read yesterdays post and wanted to bring it up. I truly believe it was just the force of God. It was the perfect time and perfect place for a conversation that needed to happen. This is just another example of how faith will lead you to the right path.

Sunny

People Like Me!

I am so sick and tired of hearing that Carcinoid Cancer is so rare. I have hundreds and hundreds of emails from those suffering from this cancer or those who have a loved one suffering that feel differently. There are several foundations for Carcinoid Cancer and new treatment center popping up everywhere. The statement. "Rare cancer", is one reason Carcinod Cancer research is so underfunded. This cancer is the number one undetected cancer but that does not make it rare.

Another misconception is that many people who have been diagnosed with Carcinoid Cancer can live a completely normal life. Normal....normal for who? Is it normal to be in pain all the time, have a doctor's appoint two to three times a week, or be stuck with needles and have poison through your veins once a week? Maybe everyone has tumors full of deadly hormones invading every organ of their body. Is it normal to have medical expanses that exceed more then what you make in one year because this cancer is so unknown several of the treatments are not FDA approved which means not covered by insurance? Is it normal to have to travel all over the world for unapproved treatments just to stay alive? Tell that to the family whose whole lives have been turned around and changed because of the horrific disease. Or sit done and explain that to an 11 year old boy when he has to keep asking his mom as they go for a walk on the beach, "are you ok still?". Or assure a 13 year old boy that you would be fine if Daddy remarried once I was dead because you don't want him to be sad and lonely. Tell that to the mom or dad that have this cancer when they are up all night worrying about their children's future without them.

What frustrates me the most is when I hear a doctor or "expert" say, "Many people live up to 5 years or more with this cancer. So relax." Say that to the many mothers, wives and husbands that have emailed me telling me that they lost their love one from Carcinoid Cancer several months after they were diagnosed. Tell that to me when I open those emails and have to find the words deep down to show how horrible I am feeling for them, only to see my mother or husband writing the same letter one day. How about telling someone who is on their fifth year with this cancer and they cannot get out of bed to, "relax this is a slow growing cancer". Tell that to woman who wrote the email below to me on Sunday. Give her some suggestions on how to tell her two boys that she is never going to get better:


Sunny,
I have been reading your blog for a long while now. I want to thank you for sharing your journey. I look forward to your updates and hearing about how you and your family are doing. The post about your son and the cross you gave him (than he gave back to you) just has me in a pool of tears, honestly it was the sweetest thing I have ever read. God bless you and your family.

I want you to know that I also have carcinoid and 2 boys, now ages 10 and 15. I struggle with what to tell them and how to be there for them and like you said "compartmentalize" the cancer part of me as much as possible. Live and struggle through the days and relate to very much of what you share and also a deep faith in God.

My 10 year old son, Nathan, came to me this weekend and asked me why I seemed so angry. (I have been having a lot of new pain - probably bone mets and have been very crabby at times). I told him it was because sometimes I feel angry that I am so sick and I want to feel better. He tried to show me some exercises I could do to get better. He knows I have cancer and that is why I am sick - but I had not really told him it was terminal cancer. I felt it was time to tell him a little more of the truth, so I explained that most all of the time people get sick and then get better. But sometimes, rarely, people get sick and don't get all better. I told him, in the most tender way I could, that I have been fighting this thing for 4 years, and I am still fighting, but that eventually I would get sicker and eventually I wouldn't be here anymore. He cried and cried and I held him, my own heart breaking along with his. I told him that I could take it, so please cry and let it all out. I told him that God has kept me here this long and that I am still getting my treatments, so we had today to enjoy and probably many, many more days.

After this weekend, I wanted to go to your blog, to find some comfort, to connect, and then I read your post about your situation and your son and the cross and it really touched me.

I am so glad that you are doing the things you love - and working your photography. Even though I know how miserable you must feel at times, it inspires me to hear how you are living through your journey with carcinoid.

My thoughts and prayers are with you and your family. Thank you again for keeping your blog - you are a blessing!

Peace,
Andrea Espinoza

I know that the tone of my post today is not the "Sunny" tone you are all use to reading. I am not trying to be bitter or angry about being inflicted with this cancer. However, I want to express my frustration with all those "experts" and those who read an article on the Internet that now think they are "experts" who tell me and several hundreds other that this cancer is rare and not so bad. I want to be a voice for mothers like Andrea and others who are fighting everyday to stay alive. I want to speak out for those who wake up every morning have to face the day with a cancer that less then .25% of cancer research money is spent on researching a cure for our battle. But mostly I want you all to understand the pain those who have lost someone they love and need to Carcinoid Cancer. Please don't take my post today as anything but another way for me to fight this cancer. I need to clear up all the misconception before I can get on with my journey today.

Sunny

Update

It's been a while and so much has been happening. I have been fighting with all I have in my cancer life and crazy busy with my non cancer life. First my cancer life, as I like to compartmintize it, is still here. I am still taking Afinator or secret golden pill because of the price. I am told that it is keeping my liver mets stable which is truly a blessing. I had some new tumors pop up in new organs but they are on the smaller end of things so we are going watch them and in two weeks rescan. If they have grown we will make the decision of surgery or radiation. The bone tumors have been the most annoying. The have increased in size and have been causing pain. I am trying hard to not let that pain interfere with my life. I absolutely hate the way I feel when I take the pain meds but would tolerated it if any pain meds worked. But they don't so I have found other options. Mediation and pray puts me at peace. Once I have peace I am able to refocus on other things besides the pain. Accepting the pain as a way of living is the first thing in dealing with the pain.

Also I am in Florida now for my follow-up with the Tampa Moffit Cancer Center as well as another dose of that new experimental chemo. Then I will be heading over to the east coast to spend the week with my mother, Mark and the boys. I absolutely love every minute I spend in little old Vero Beach, Fl. I have been to The Keys, Bahama's, Mexico, Jamaica and even Hawaii and have seen some of the most amazing beaches ever but nothing compares to the peace and relaxation I get in Vero. Its such a wonderful place to recovery from treatments and just spend time with my family.


In order to forget about the pain I started a new venture. I guess I should say I rekindled an old venture. I started up my photography studio business again above an amazing art studio, Le Bella's Art Studio. Opening the studio is by no means something that a thought I could ever do again or something that my husband ever wanted me to do again. But once again God puts people in your life and situations to overcome that truly can change you. My cancer has brought me and the owner of Le Bella's Art Studio, Debbie, together. Several years ago her infant daughter was diagnosed with another rare form of cancer. Debbie lives in our community so when she hard about my relapse she reached out to me. After a year of friendship she convinced me to keep my business going and encouraged me to reopen my studio in her building. It sounded great but I truly was not sure I could expand my business while putting my family and cancer first. I know that when I invest in my passion I invest 100% which was great before I got sick but not good when you are fighting for your life. I kept the idea in the back of my mind and once in a while entertained it. Then after months of Debbie working me another friend of my, April, approached me about her passion in photography and wanted to work in the industry. One thing lead to another and back to studio shooting I went. With so much support to back me up I am able to do what I love and still have time for those I love.

With all that is going on I am always able to remember how truly blessed I am. I look back to the day that I was told of my relapse and how far I have come. I have accepted my cancer but not accepted my fate with it. Mostly I know that I have so much support and will never be alone in this battle. Thank you.

Sunny

The Cross

I had every intention on blogging tonight about the great weekend I had and the kindness I witnessede. I had treatments on Thursday and wanted to post about that as well. I've been sick since Sunday and thought I would add that too. But something just happened to me I just have to share. The rest will wait until later

So to start off I had a double dose of treatments on Friday for the bone tumors. Normally I seperate these two different drugs by two weeks. But the nurse at the treatment center thought that I could handle both at once. Friday I was a little sick and exhausted, but Saturday I was able to shoot two sessions and go out that night with friends. Then on Sunday it all hit me and I've been in tremendous bone pain and sick to my stomach since then. After church on Sunday Ive been in and out of bed for the last three days.

Now I know I post a ton about my boys. I also know that I make them seem like these ideal perfect little angels. I can assure you and so can anyone that knows the Carney Boys well, that they are very typical wild boys. I am sure you are all tired of reading about them through my rose color glasses how perfect and wonderful they are. Well if that is the case then don't read on becaue I really need to post this about Nolan.

Anyways Nolan came home from school today and asked me before he even dropped his backpack on the floor, if my pain went away yet. Some kids come home from school and drop their junk and run out to play or run to their video game. But a child that has a parent with cancer has different anxieties. Of course like any mom with cancer I said, " its getting better". We then we went through his day and his homework and off he went to practice his hockey skills. I wobbled my way up the stairs to my master bathroom to take another pain med and hide for a while until those pills start to take the edge off. I could not help but start to cry and feel bad that Nolan only cares about how I am do. I hear a light tapping on the door so I hurry up and put the meds away wipe my tears and open the door. Nolan is standing there with this concerned look on his face. He reaches in his jean pocket and pulls out a small silver cross. He handed it to me. I asked him where he got this and why is he given it to me.

He began to tell me that I gave it to him before I left for Switzerland, but I could not remember. He continued to tell me that whenever he is upset or stressed he puts it in his pocket. This week is PSSA tests at his school and I guess I nagged way to much about how important these standardized test are. So he took the small cross off his dresser and has been carrying it around with him all week. I insisted that he keep it in his pocket because he will need it when he is taking his tests. But he kept handing back to me and finally said, "Mom, I will be fine if I know you are ok." He then told me if I hold it really tight maybe it will take my pain away.

I was completely speachless and surprised. I mean, I know that Nolan believes in God. We pray at dinner and at night. But I never knew he understood what it means to lean on God. I of course tell them about God, my faith and that all things are possible if you believe. But I never thought that they really got it. I guess I was wrong.

I took the cross and held it like he instructed me too. He smiled, gave me a hug and off he went to play hockey.

Sunny

Surgery or No Surgery......That is the question

Yesterday was my big appointment with my main oncologist. I must say after the four hour wait I still absolutely trust him with my life.....literally. We went over the scans and ultra-sound results and he gave me several options. Options are great at this point in my cancer battle. When the options run out then I will start to panic. After talking with my three specialist a week ago about the tumors and spreading I thought I would be rolling into surgery by the end of this week. Dr. Friedland told me yesterday that surgery at this point is not the only option. He laid out the options in very simple terms:

1. Have surgery immediately to remove the new tumors and the organs that they are affecting.

2. Wait four weeks and get rescanned then re-evaluate. If the tumors are growing or have spread more, then have immediate surgery. The they remain stable then the choice of surgery is up to me. If the new experimental treatment shrinks them then I just save myself a surgery.

3. Do radiation therapy on the new tumors.

4. Go to Switzerland again to receive the last two treatments.

He kept his opinions to himself until I started to talk. He did not lean me towards any option even after I seemed confused. Mark and I asked several questions about each option but I think we already knew all the answers. We are now consider cancer veterans. We are no longer the scared uneducated cancer newbies we were in the beginning. Finally I said, "I think I want to go with option number two. I am going to wait and pray for four weeks and then get re-scanned.". He smiled at me and said, "I knew that is what you would choose....you always go for the quality of life thing." He reassured me that he thinks I will be fine to wait because the worse case scenario is that the cancer grows or spreads somewhere else and I have the surgery I had already expected.

So for now the surgery is postponed until further notice. I will continue on the magic pill which has been keeping many of the larger tumors stable and even shrunk a few. I will also continue my treatments at Hillman Cancer Center.

Sunny

Continuation from yesterday

After reluctantly posting yesterday's blog I felt the weight of the world was off me. At least until Tuesday when I meet with my main oncologist. I went to my bedroom to get some sleep only to find Mark laying on his side of the bed with a book across his chest and his hands over his eyes. Trying to quickly and quietly slip back out of the room I held my breath and slowly turned towards the door. The thought of rehashing our conversation a few hours ago was just to much for me to bear. I almost made it out of the room when he spotted me and said, "I'm reading your book, I can not believe your notes in the margin. When did you write this stuff." I did not know what book he was talking about nor did I want to engage in any kind of conversation. I read a ton and always write notes or highlight things I like in my books. I shook my head and tried really hard to escape out the room but he continue to engage in conversation.




"I think you read this book before you got sick. I remember you telling me to read it. In fact I think you brought me a copy". He held up the book and I noticed it was "The Purpose Driven Life", by Rick Warren. He was right, the first time I read the book was the year it came out in 2003 before I had my lung remove. I think I have read it about five more times since then. I did not say much because truthfully I was completely drained and just wanted to be alone. He got the hint and laid the book done open on the bed and left the room.





After putting a few baskets of clothes away, straighten up the room and getting ready for a good night sleep I sat on the bed and lifted the book to find it open to Chapter 4: "Made to Last Forever". I quietly read the chapter with out a pencil or highlighter but with an open heart. Like I have mentioned earlier I have read, took notes and highlighted this chapter many times but not until last night did I really get it. I even participated in a group Bible study for this book but I learned more last night then ever before. For those who don't have a copy of this book please get one, read it and keep it next to your bible for reference at times. The chapter, Made to Last Forever, was the perfect chapter for me to read last night before laying my head down to sleep. It gave me peace and understanding.


Rick Warren writes:


This life is not all there is. Life on earth is the dress rehearsal before the real production......Earth is the staging area, the preschool, the tryout for your life in eternity. It is the practice workout before the actual game; the warm-up lap before the race begins. This life is preparation for the next.


At most, you will live a hundred years on earth, but you will spend forever in eternity. Your time on earth is, but a small parenthesis in eternity. You are made to last forever.


......This life is preparation for the next. If you have a relationship with God, through Jesus, you don't need to fear death.





Just as I finished reading that chapter Mark walked back into the room holding his copy of the book. He asked me if I read my notes in the margin. I shook my head yes but I really did not read any of them I just nodded that I did. He turned to me and said, "you were who you are now, then. You understood life even before you had cancer." He continued by saying, "you say cancer changed you and opened your eyes to life. Your eyes were always"s open". We shut out the lights and waiting until he fell asleep before I turned on my small lamp to read my notes. I could not stand not knowing what I knew back then.


As I read my notes written in cursive, so that even my books looked pretty, I too was surprised. In the margins I wrote things like: "life on earth is just a blink compared to life in eternity", "the way you live your life here determines the way you live in eternity", "live as if today is your last day", "if you live for God and others you should never fear death" and "our life here is to be lived for God. Don't let your life be waisted....do for others". There were several other words I jotted down but those few stood out.



I am guessing it is time for me to listen to what I already know. I need to continue to live with all I have and let Him do His thing.



Sunny

Control

I have written several post since the last one but I have not published any of them. My emotions are running crazy. I have been putting off posting because its been a roller coaster ride of cancer in the past few weeks. Truthfully, I really don't know what to post because I don't understand much anymore. Just when I think I have this cancer life under control I am hit with another wall to climb over.

I had a new set of scans about a week ago and the results were so so. The miracle drug that I have been taking has not shrunk any of the tumors. Some are stable but new ones are popping up faster then I would like them to. After speaking with my liver oncologist after the scans I left his office feeling quite defeated and angry. He, on the other hand, keeps telling me that I am a miracle and I need to remember that I have had a whole year longer then what was expected. I am frustrated because I am doing everything I can do, and looking for more, to fight this fight but keep getting punched down over and over again. I am tired of losing this battle. I am also tired of pretending that everything is going to be alright when deep down I know that the only answer right now for this carcinoid cancer is to slow the process done. I want so badly to just once go into my doctors office and hear that I am in remission.

I also feel this enormous desire to keep everyone here at home positive and optimistic. I need to keep everything together and tell everyone....including myself...that I will get through this again. I must of said 100 times or more to Mark in the past 2 weeks to stop worrying about something we cannot control only to find myself up all hours of the night worrying for him. I feel this huge pressure to be strong for everyone while I continue my life like I don't have this monster invading every one of my organs. 99% of the time I believe and have faith that I will be here for my children and to see them graduate from high school, college, get married and have children of their own. However, at times there is that 1% that is so hard to overcome at times.

Today I got a call from my oncologist office and they told me that I need further tests and risky surgery as soon as possible. After I hung up the phone that 1% kicked in and I fell apart. But I had no one to fall apart too because I am the strong one and I have to keep my family thinking that this news is just a little bump in the road. As I started to tell Mark the water down filtered version of my conversation with the nurse I could tell that it meant him freaking out. As much as I appreciate his need to get upset and angry I really wanted it to be my turn just this once. My turn to scream and cry. My turn to feel sorry for myself and become bitter. Instead as I tried to communicate my frustrated I end up listening to his.

I knew that I had to clear my head so I snuck away for a walk. As I was walking I tried to figure things out and plan my next course of action. I kept asking myself why am I freaking out? Why do I feel like I am losing control of this battle? Why am I so frustrated when I knew this day and many worse days would come? The answer came quick. I don't know if it was God slapping me in the face or me just thinking straight but I realized that I am not suppose to be in control. He is in control. I need to let go of the wheel and let Him drive. I have to put my trust in God and give this up to Him. The answers will come if I open my heart and loose my need to control.

I lost my way for awhile. I needed to take control of something I have no control over.

On Tuesday I will see my main oncologist to discuss our new findings. We will lay out a game plan and I will proceed with all my heart again. In the meantime, I am going to enjoy my Easter Holiday with my family and hug my boys every chance I get. I know that I can not control the outcome of this disease but I control how I handle the outcome.

Sunny

Daffodal

Sunday was such a glorious day here in Pittsburgh. Of course that means the boys and a large group of their friends will spend most of the day outside. After spending a few hours at a photo shoot I came home to an empty house with the remains of several messy boys left behind. Drink glasses half full, about a dozen of Popsicles wrappers and sticks scatter about the kitchen counter and an empty fridge that was full before I left that morning was proof that they still lived there but only entered the house to refuel theirs and their buddies bellies. I rushed home because I was expected to be greeted by my four favorite boys waiting for me to do something fun with them. I quickly realized that they are now teenagers and really they did not even realizes I was gone for hours.

As I was cleaning up the mess in the kitchen and feeling very used, I heard my cell phone buzzing that a text just came through. Needing an excuse to not continue I grab my phone to check out what it said. I looked down to see Fav yung son on the name of who the text was sent. That stands for "my favorite youngest son" which is what I jokingly call him at times. I open the text only to see it was a picture of a daffodil from my Nolan and text written above the picture that said, "with the gang and saw this in someone's yard and thought of you. I cannot pick it because I don't want anyone to think I'm weird. I hope you like to just look at it". I must say my heart insistently melted.

I have to wonder if cancer has made Nolan as thoughtful as he was on Sunday? Has our journey soften my boys? Or would they have become this sensitive and loving even if we had a normal life? I truly believe they have become who they are because of our situation. Believe me when I tell you this surprise does not happen often, but they seem to come at such perfect times. I hate cancer and I hate what it does to others and families. I believe that cancer is somehow a form of the devil. But I also know that we have become different people for the better because of being struck with this daemon.

About an hour after receiving the text the door flew open and in come a group of about twelve boys ranging from the ages of 11 to 15 to hit our basement to watch the NCAA march madness with Mark. I cringed because I knew this meant mess number two and bad odors entering my freshly cleaned house. I handed each one a bottle of water and warned Mark they were entering the "man cave". At the end of the stampede was Nolan holding that beautiful daffodil he texted me a picture of. Once again I felt my heart melting like candle wax. He handed me the flower and told me to hurry and put it water because he picked it right after he texted me. He claimed that Austen and Logan told him to. I gave him a huge hug and just held him. He then pulled away when he heard someone yelling for him to hurry up because Pitt was on. As he ran downstairs to join the rest of "THE GANG" he turned to me and demanded, "chips mom". Once again I knew that despite my cancer I have a truly perfect life.

Sunny

What to say????

After reading Mark's blog from the other day I am speechless. I did not know how wonderful his memories are of Basel, Switzerland. I never like to talk about it with him because I really thought that it was a time he would not want to rehash. He seemed so scared and helpless when I was undergoing these experimental treatments. I remember his anxiety as we boarding the plain from Phili to Germany. I was exhausted, in pain and sick to my stomach yet I was so worried he was going to have a complet break down. At least that is what I thought at the time, only to learn just the other day he in awe of me. When the subject of our adventure comes up I always see his eyes start to water up so I immediately change the subject. I thought it was because of sadness and fear but now realize those eyes were full of love. Unfortunately, I never let myself see our trips through his eyes so I am so glad he wrote the last post.



He is correct when he says I don't like to remember our trips or the treatments that I underwent while in Basel. I do talk about our experiences but only to other carcinoid patients that call me for information and want to know what it is all about. But I don't like to relive it with anyone else. I don't see myself back then like Mark sees me. I see myself as a sick, insecure, fragile person. I was doing what I needed to do to get through a very hard time. I was really just trying to make the best of a very hard situation. Actually, when I think about it I was truly searching for some happiness and peace. That is why I was dragging Mark all over the Alps while vomiting in several plastic bags. I needed to find any good in the situation we were in. Never did I realizes that Mark was just satisfied being with me.

Mark wrote about my photographs. I have not looked at them since we got back and I loaded them in the computer. I am thinking that maybe when I am ready I will sit down with Mark and we will enjoy our memories together. After all, I am alive one year longer then any doctor here in the United States predicted.

Sunny

Time-Our Most Precious Commodity

Yesterday marked the one year anniversary of Sunny's second treatment in Basel. Not the exact date mind you, but the Monday preceding March Madness 2009 we were in Switzerland , Sunny confined to her room, quarantined like a Chernobyl victim , and I, holed up in the room or the bar at the HiltonBasel. To this day,she is not one who looks back on the two trips at all other to acknowledge that they certainly were worth the efforts, as the Iridium 90 by all accounts has slowed the pace of the cancer. She is not one who looks back on those two trips as anything other than a necessary step to stay alive, not a positive experience, nor one that she cares to talk about, be reminded of, or care to recall. It is not surprising that when I pointed out what Monday was and offered to do a blog , she was more than happy to let me reflect on what the last year has meant, and in order to do so , obviously revisit our time in Basel.

As I write this I wonder if she is going to be comfortable even having this blog published. Basel was a step along the cancer journey and I can understand her uneasiness in recollecting or reflecting back on the two treatments there, and more specifically the anniversary of her most recent one. The same emotions stir inside when she goes back to Presby/Montifiore here in Pittsburgh and is faced with the memories of the chemo-immobilizations preformed there (and by coincidence what could ultimately be our final visit with the liver specialist Dr. Gamblin was yesterday , but more on that to come....)or the same emotions stir when she walks by the kiosk at Hillman. For Dr. Christie who performed the lung surgery years ago and by coincidence is directly across the hall from Dr. Friedland's team and offices....the emotions are strong....we have talked about them....we share them....of course understandably hers are infinitely more intense than mine...these doctors all did their jobs...the lung surgery was deemed a success, the liver treatments as of the scan done just yesterday continue to be what we are all looking at and the Octreotide Scans show that Basel did what it was supposed to do. That is all irrelevant....when you have to look around the waiting room and see the faces of cancer, of advanced cancer staring back....you get angry....then you get angry for being insensitive....you are angry for letting yourself get angry...you wonder why your wife...or in Sunny's case why me? The memories come flooding back and if you let them they can overwhelm.

I have no choice but to realize that even though these memories of Basel may be difficult to revisit, that Sunny is still by my side as I reflect. We have been blessed with a year to date since that scary Swiss treatment and we all know that was never a guarantee. Even AIG wouldn't touch that one. So when I title this "short" little entry "Time-Our Most Precious Commodity", I do so not to repeat a common cliche of the late 20th century, but as a testament to my wife....and to how Sunny chooses to treat each day. She inspires me everyday and as I write this and bring back some of the moments of our time together in Basel last March, I do so not to stir up unpleasant times, but to remember how even then whether she wants to admit it or not she is a unique fighter blessed with an Irish blend of PMA and unfailing tenacity that quite frankly, if the Pittsburgh Pirates could tap into a tenth of, Pittsburgh would be truly be the City of Champions. She doesn't make excuses or look for reasons to procrastinate (although as she will attest to I try to give her outs or force rest) she grabs each day as if it were some kind of steroided beefed up super bull, yanking that big boy's horns until it squeals in defeat. She will not get beat by the clock. She will not get cheated by time. So I can share the memories of our second trip to Basel with fondness because we were together, we were close, and she was to simply put it....Sunny.

Sunny of course brought her camera. I think she knew that even though the treatment was torture that taking pictures would be a distraction. Knowing how much I love to pose for the paparazzi, she had focused on the architecture of the historic city, the people , the river, and had taken a slew of great pictures at one of the better museums during our first trip. (I have to throw out a big props to our good friend Peter, who drove down from Holland on both occasions and without whom, we would have stood out even more than we did as touristy Americans...his insight during the first trip helped us to at least not feel intimidated by the cultural differences during our second visit) But what Sunny had really taken upon herself was to capture pictures of the fronts of buildings...in particular doorways...doors...windows....gates etc...most of them were centuries old and all of them were much more colorful as compared to a typical entrance way here in the states. She was determined to put all of these Switz facades into a book that I kidded would rival Kramer's Coffee Table Book about coffee tables. She was relentless. She actually scaled a five hundred year old wall to peep over bushes to take one and as we marched through cobblestone streets on Saturday before her second treatment she must have taken hundreds of pictures of doors....Jim Morrison wasn't in as many Doors pictures as Sunny shot that afternoon as the sun dropped behind the Alps.

Those of you who read this and see her, please ask her to share with you the "Door Pics" from Basel. She hasn't looked at them since she has been back...but let me tell you they were fantastic. As I chased her through narrow twisting cobblestone streets, my feet hurting (Damn Euro trash hip shoes) and the hunger pains kicked in as our quest for a smoke free, good eats, not to crowded on a Saturday night search continued....she never stopped shooting. She was amazing. I was ready to call it a night. We had just flown from Pittsburgh to DC to Germany to Switzerland, grabbed maybe six hours of sleep, her bones in serious pain, and she wouldn't stop. Time. She kept saying she would have time to rest when she was dead. I would have chuckled, but I was too busy wheezin and geezin chasing her through those Basel Blvds and to be honest I never felt more connected with her...more in tune with what was driving her to press on.

Time. The second trip to Basel was the closest I felt to Sunny since her diagnosis. The fear of the unknown was behind us, the only ones we had to count on were the two of us. It is strange to even write this but it truly was an unbelievable privilege to know that it was just Sunny and I taking this step...of course I don't want in any means to dismiss the pain or emotions of the treatment, I can only comment that the pain for the liver treatments here was worse. At least her appearance post treatment back in da burgh was worse. I just know that we all have one timekeeper in life and he chose to have Sunny and I be in Basel...just the two of us....no other family or friends...(although I felt the prayers)...not our kids, not our intermittent cell phones or pain in the ass wireless Hilton Internet service....it was us...Rickki Lake, Sally Jesse Raphael, Judge Judy, some wacko G5 protesters in London, Nick Nolte and Eddie Murphy, Clint Eastwood, and lots of bar nuts, free lobby apples, stinky ass French cheese and those wonderful Salsa Chips from Papa J's Bistro.

Last St Patricks day my wife was in a nuclear medicine ward at Hospitaal Basell..Peter and I , not able to see Sunny for 24 hours wandered through that Irish haven of Basel and actually passed the evening drinking green beer and eating "fresh Swiss sushi". Not quite Market Square and Ms. Irish Smiling Eyes. The 17th of March was just another day over there, as was March Madness...and as my week went along I pretended to care about the brackets I had filled in via the Internet Sunday night...I tried to implore my three boys to fill theirs out and email them back home....Sunny rested ten feet from me....did I realize how special TIME was with my three rug rats. I have since mentioned on numerous occasions that we should take the boys the next time...she wants no part of it...I might as well as have invited the boys to visit their mother back in the 80's ....big hair...leg warmers...neon bracelets and all.

On Friday, our last day alone together in Basel before the long trek home, I wasn't expecting much more than a quick trolley ride to one of the museums we hadn't yet visited. It was 50 degrees F....I'm sorry, it was like 10 degrees Celsuis officially and as I put my shorts on I asked Sunny what she wanted to do....she said lets tackle the zoo. Now mind you, I am all about skipping museums when possible, but it was blustery, she had just been nuked three days prior...her blood count was low enough that if a monkey farted in her general area I was going to have to punch the monkey first and then take her to the Swiss ER...

TIME. I remember to this day what she said next. "I feel bad you have to be inside all of this time, lets do something fun...how about the zoo." It was at this point I realized how nuts my wife really is. In a goodhearted way. But nuts nonetheless. TIME. We grabbed her camera and the Camcorder and left the comforts of the Hilton Basel. We hopped a train that was new, we walked, we walked and then ...there we were....Zoolistengher Gardener....the f$#%#$in Zoo....For those of you who personally know Sunny I can only tell you that no matter she may claim now about her time there...she was in heaven....Pictures of swans, hog sex, hippos in their native setting....leopards mooning us....little Swiss kids running from the big American who didn't care for their little school ground song.....Loose mice in the reptile exhibit....we laughed and laughed, and never once did she complain. She had just got nuked, and we were walking through three and a half miles of odors and animal shit without complaint. I have never been to the Pittsburgh zoo with just my wife. I live 5 miles as the crow flies from it. Its world famous. We take the kids all of the time. My favorite zoo is now in Switzerland.

I hope that none of you have to go through the battle that Sunny has...but if you do , I pray you relish the TIME with each other....don't spend it frivolously, you can never get a refund....so pray....fight the right fight..and remember your life doesn't have a DVR...so be selfish with your time..cancer or not....TIME doesn't play favorites..so just don't take it for granted..

Please keep us in your prayers...huck Sunny for those "door" pictures and I look forward to reaching out to you all the next time Sunny gives me the OK.

Mark