Relay for Life

The back of the T-shirt reads:
Had it

Fought it

Survived it

The T-shirt I'm talking about is the Relay for Life Survivor shirt. When I saw it on line this morning I burst into tears. I'm very lucky to have Mike here and I'm very proud to be his wife. We worked hard, had a lot of support and we beat this cancer.We all have someone in our lives who has fought, is fighting or has lost a battle with cancer. I don't wish this on anyone. I wish they would find a cure.

Mike and I have been asked by my company - Anderson Fabrics - to become part of their Relay for Life Team. We have accepted and could not be prouder. On August 14 Mike will walk the Survivors Walk and I will proudly walk beside him as we raise money for cancer research in hopes of finding a cure.

If you would like to become one of our sponsors please go to 

http://main.acsevents.org/site/TR/RelayForLife/RFLFY10MW?px=16742338&pg=personal&fr_id=22978

and click on donate. We will keep you posted as to our progress and thank-you to those who have already donated!

Peace,

Karen

Still Surviving, Still Keeping On

Friday night and I caught my second wind.  The first thing I did when I got home from work was eat, then take a nap. I slept through most of the program on the radio with Sweet Baby James and Carole King, took care of the girls and Jane, the rabbit. Just got off the phone with John, the brother to a friend of ours. John had colon cancer surgery about a month ago and is getting ready to start chemo in a week or so.He is naturally full of questions and concerns. I have never met John but from just a few minutes on the phone I imagine him to be an old school guy; hardworking, straight talking and very frustrated by his restrictions and lack of clear answers. Listening to him I just had to laugh sometimes. John is a heavy equipment mechanic and as he said, 'If you give me a good shop manual I can fix anything." The whole nasty business is frustrating and there are no clear answers and it is difficult to have to take it one step at a time when all you want to do is get it fixed. Sorry John, there are manuals that outline procedures for cancer treatment but I doubt that any of them require your skills with a welder and impact wrench.

I am speaking for both Karen and I when I say that finally our life, our personal life, feels cancer free. For the  first time in a year we do not have to think about life framed by the constraints of dealing with cancer. I am glad; we are glad.  We just wish it could be so good for others.

Last Saturday we attended a benefit for someone we know who is going through cancer. I think this is Dann's second bout and this time the outlook is not good.  I know him from our days with Dr. Holt, in the Limnology Lab at BSU.  Years ago, after not seeing him for a long time, I ran into him at a local Trout Unlimited meeting and introduced him to the woman who became his wife and the mother of their son. It was at the benefit for Dann, that I learned about John. 

Where does it end, this business of cancer? Wednesday night my sisters, Zoe and Sharon, and Sharon' husband, Craig, came up for dinner. I took off from work a bit early to have more time to visit with them. I was kind of worried about the visit. I knew that Sharon had been tested for Lynch Syndrome and I wanted to know the result and I was kind of afraid she wasn't going to tell me. I can't really explain why; that's just the way I felt. That's what comes from letting your mind run wild. The good news is that I didn't have to worry about not finding out the answer. The not-so-good news is that Zoe and Sharon both have Lynch Syndrome. That  makes three out of four of us that carry the genetic factor. Our brother, Terry, hasn't had the test yet I guess.

Good God, three out of four! How we made it this far is a real mystery. The next morning I opened my email and found a message from my oldest daughter, Meredith. She underwent the testing for Lynch and the results came back negative. She does not carry the gene for Lynch and that is great news! Finally, someone is getting a break. The hell of it is, Meredith is just one person and there are so very many, too damn many, that aren't that lucky. What can you do?

The answer for me has been to just keep going on. I am a survivor. If nothing else can be said about me, knowing I am a survivor, just about says it all. I often wonder what my purpose in life is; I mean, what is it I am supposed to do? What in the hell am I good at? Maybe being a survivor is what I am supposed to do. I don't know...  I am proud of the fact that with lots of help from friends and family, I have survived two bouts with cancer.  And though I wouldn't tell just anyone, I am even more proud of the fact I have survived my self. In many ways, that struggle never ends. Maybe someday I'll tell you a little about it.

For now the answer is to keep on keeping on. In terms of an absolute cure, there is no end in sight and moving forward is the only choice we have.  I know a guy whose wife is dealing with cancer. She began taking lycopene supplements and the offending lymph nodes have disappeared.  I am not saying to try this, or that is works for every cancer, but for Jarrod's wife, Lyco- Mato, has been a great aid in her battle with cancer. Apparently the doctors at Mayo are watching her progress with great interest. (Lyco-Mato from Everyday Lycopene, 2915 Zachary Drive, Loveland CO, 80537; 1-303-995-2002).

That's it for tonight. Karen and her sister. Linda, are comfortably ensconced in a cabin on a remote lake up by Isabella. It is their annual sister trip. It has been a long year for Karen. I told her more than once that going through cancer can be more difficult for the caregiver, than the patient. I am glad she is getting a break. I know they will have a great time even if the weather stays crappy. I will get my chance for some time off in September when Karen returns to the cabin with me in tow. For the next week I have the place to myself. Well, I still have Sadee and Anna and of course, Jane. And Jim, the crow that comes to the bird feeder.  And the weeds in the garden. But hey, I can park in the middle of the garage, sleep in the middle of the bed and snore all I want to. Yeah, and leave the seat up too. What the hell; I don't need it anymore.

What I do need is for all of you to remember to be thankful for the loved ones in your life. I know I try to be thankful and often have room for improvement. We only have these few moments that constitute the present and in that short period of time we have to try to leave the world a little better than we found it.

Goodnight. Peace and love to you all.
Mike

Too Hot to Fish

This is not a blog about weather. Nor is it a blog about how amazingly seductive I look in chest waders, a fly vest and baseball cap. It's not about menopause either, though I'm sure that blog is not far away. This blog is about how I get too hot to fish. By too hot I mean intense in a passionate sort of way. I get the same way in the canoe for about the first mile I just wanna go. I want to burn up the water. I'm like letting an Irish Setter off the leash. And I admit I'm a little hot in the competitive sort of way.

Tonight was a prime example of too hot and I caught myself at it....twice or maybe three times. It had clouded over and the weather radar on the home computer had a big blue, green and yellow blob closing in on the fishing grounds. We decided to chance it and try to fish ahead of the rain. We ate quickly, left dishes on the table and food out, changed clothes, threw fly fishing gear into the van and took off. Mike was doing what he does best behind the wheel of the van - driving below the speed limit. "We're going fishing tonight, right?" I asked. 

At the river we slid into our waders. I had trouble with my neoprene booties fitting into my wading shoes properly and spent what I felt was too much time putting them off and on. Finally they felt acceptable and I pulled the straps of my waders over my shoulder, for a split second I thought I had them on backwards because a strap was twisted. I grabbed my rod without bothering to line it and we headed for the water. 

I opted for an olive dun instead of my usual elk hair caddis, tied it on and waded in. The second I released my fly I knew I was too hot to fish. My shoulders were up around my ears and my fly line snapped with each false cast. Zip. Zap. Thwap. Thunk. My fly was over here and then over there and oOOOH was that a fish rise by that bank? I better rush down there to fish. I was a disaster. I moved too fast. I cast too much. I fished like a mad woman. After about 20 minutes I had a fish hop on my fly and spit it. That's when I slowed down and actually looked like a fly fisherman. I had a fish and I worked it. My concentration focused on one fish in one spot and I became zen.

I didn't catch that fish. He rose to the fly  on several occasions but spit it each time. I gave up the hole and moved on - slowly and carefully now. I moved down stream from Mike to the place I caught a nice trout last year. I'd chosen my little 6 ft 3 wt rod. I hadn't fished with this one much, prefering the custom 9ft 6wt that Mike had made for me for a wedding present. I knew that rod, knew what it could do and how it would cast and what it took to put a dry fly here or there with it. But on the last few trips I'd taken the little rod. I wanted to see what a fish felt like on something so much smaller. Tonight, the little rod and I hit a groove. We were finally getting along. My false casts made pretty arches above my head. Roll casts were actually looking like roll casts with the fly snapping out and landing gently on the water. I found I could do a side arm cast and practiced that for a while impressing even myself. Then, out of the zen of the moment, Forbes laughed. He laughed that, I got a fish laugh and my casting went to hell. 

I asked what he was using. Nothing. I asked again. "Wow, it's a nice fish" he laughed, "should I keep it?" 

"Yeah, keep it. What ARE you using?" I yelled. Wet fly, caddis larva. DUH. God I hate fishing wet flies. I think that fishing wet flies is akin to using bait and make a lot of noise about it on the river as I tie dry fly after dry fly onto my line. (I think at this time I should say I am a two dollars and twenty-five cents down because I won't use a wet fly) I fish further down the river out of site of Mike. It starts to rain. I whip the water to a froth. I catch trees. I catch myself. I get wind knots and get hung up on the end of my rod. Once again, I am too hot to fish. This time it does not go away. I pick a bouquet of high-bush cranberry flower and leap frog back up the river from Mike because I saw a trout jump up there.

Back in the river I loose a fly in the shrubs, have to rebuild my line and about the time Mike comes to see how I am doing and if I'm ready to be done fishing I hang up in the big pine that stretches out over the river. My fly dangles above the river and my line is fouled right at the leader. What can I do but snap it off. Still, there is that fly dangling out there. I hand my rod to Mike and start for the fly hoping the hole isn't deeper than my waders. I manage a precarious grab and turn smugly back to the shore. I'm done for this trip. Seventy five cents rattles in my pants pocket. I had said to Mike before we left that he should just take it then so I would have to carry the weight.

The rain comes down and the air is cool. Mosquitoes fly in clouds around our heads. I shiver as we walk to the car. I think. Next time. Next time I will just stand in the river for 10 minutes when I first get there. I won't line my rod at the car or on the bank. I will wade in and just cool down before that first cast. And if Mike catches a trout before me. I will simply wade back to where he is, congratulate him, knock him over in the water and go sit on the bank while we both cool off.

Here's to fishing. 

Peace, 

Karen