Fog

 I had originally wanted to title this “The Gauntlet.” I even had quite a bit of it composed.

The process for me in writing these is to: rough draft, edit, second rough draft, edit, think about what I have written, third rough draft, edit and then publish.

I got to the “think about what I have written” part and it seemed to me that what I was describing is not really what I was feeling happening to me. So then I was at the “start over part.” 

It occurred to me that grieving, while at times feeling arduous and defeating, is really more like following a path that is unclear about what is ahead. I would dare say it is much like driving in a thick fog with only the fog lines as a guide.

That is where Carl Sandburg comes in:

Fog

BY CARL SANDBURG

The fog comes 

on little cat feet. 

It sits looking 

over harbor and city 

on silent haunches 

and then moves on.

Grieving is that “cat” that descends upon the mind. Thinking is shrouded and unclear. Decisions are difficult to make. The direction one is traveling in one’s mind is confusing.

But over time, as the fog lifts and as the light brightens the sky, a clearer path emerges. It suggests hope and a brighter future. That is what is happening here at Peaceful Pines. It has been six months since Joyce passed. And yes, I am still sad. But there are many signs that moving forward will be easier as time moves on. Family, friends and even strangers keep showing me that being positive and friendly and caring is the fuel I need to continue on that path moving forward.

“Cephalocaudal, proximo distal,” was something a professor in one of my final education classes reminded me. In this instance, it certainly applies.  As time is passing, rational thinking is returning and the rest of my body is becoming accustomed to the new reality of what it is going to be like living alone. My heart is aching less (to be sure there is still sadness) but I am also engaging with others in positive forward looking conversations.

Peaceful Pines will always be my anchor spot, but I see venturing beyond the “safety” of the trees in the future. 

Well, not the immediate future. It is a -30º windchill outside for crying out loud.

Elephants 🦣

  

There is a saying that the best way to clear the air in a conversation is to start early by talking about any elephants that are in the room. 🦣 🦣

For those who have not heard that phrase, it refers to any topic that is on a person’s mind but may be uncomfortable bringing up and talking about it. 

For instance, if it is 30º outside and I am the only one wearing cutoffs by the fire ring while visiting with friends, others may be thinking a few different thoughts about me but may not want to bring it up for whatever reason. That would be “the elephant in the room.”

Or, another example could be when I am having breakfast with others and I put syrup on my sunny side up eggs. There may be thoughts, either positive or negative, that are unsaid even though others really want to talk about it. That would be “the elephant in the room.”

I had that experience the other day when Cole, Sharon and I were having a meal at a restaurant. It happened to be on October 24th. That happened to be Joyce’s birthday. I know I wanted to bring it up a few times in conversation, but each time I was going to, feelings started to well up inside of me that stifled the attempt. I did not know if Cole and Sharon were aware or if they were aware and perhaps were not comfortable talking about it. That ended up being the “elephant in the booth” that day. It was not a bad thing. It was just a thing that reminded me that this was the first of the “first times without” that are going to be happening in the near future. There is going to be Thanksgiving, Christmas, Valentine’s Day, our anniversary, and other days that were special to us.

What I did. though, was reach out to Cole and Sharon and through text discussed it with them. I did that because I needed to talk about that elephant. With other firsts on the horizon, I know that it is going to be easier in the future to enter the conversation. It was just a matter of opening that first uncomfortable door. 

Joyce and I had always been proponents of open communication. The gist of this whole post is to encourage anyone out there to be strong enough, even though it may be uncomfortable, to broach whatever elephant subject that needs to be talked about. It is a time for sharing perceptions and feelings. And it can lead to a catharsis that makes moving forward in life easier. It is also a time that can help develop a more positive understanding of personal relationships.

So, for those who may be wondering, I am doing okay. I am making my way through the grieving process, as we all do, two steps forward and one step backward. I have always been a person to live one day at a time and that has definitely helped. And when the next “first time” event happens I am better prepared to greet that elephant, deal with it, and move forward.🦣

And the band played on

This is a bittersweet posting. On Thursday, September 15th, I donated all of Joyce’s band instruments to her old high school in Babbitt. There were a couple of euphoniums (her favorite instruments), a trombone, a coronet, a clarinet and a keyboard. One of the things I wanted to happen was to make sure that they knew 1) that she was an alumnus who cared about her home town, 2) that she was an accomplished musician, and 3) that even in a small town the people who grew up there do not forget their roots.

Music was a staple in our household. It certainly was not because of me ( I would be the tone deaf one of the family). But Joyce instilled the love of music not only in our son but also our grandchildren.

Joyce could have played in any band she would have chosen. The bands she did play in always appreciated her skill. And I always enjoyed listening to her play.

So, with this donation there is hope that a future alumnus from the Babbitt High school will be inspired to learn to appreciate the gift of music that he/she can give to others, if for no other reason than to bring happiness to anyone who takes the time to listen.

My Snow Globe

Here I go with the metaphors again. First let’s visualize the common snow globe.

It can vary in size. It can vary in shape. The contents, usually is some kind of meaningful scene which varies from owner to owner. But the swirling action of the “floaty stuff” is pretty much common to all of them.

So, of what is my snow globe made? My base on which the globe sits is the security I feel here at Peaceful Pines. The globe that encapsulates me is however far I choose to venture out at any give moment. For the scene inside the globe one could imagine a small figurine (that would be me) standing in a open area at the top of a hill  surrounded by pine trees. For those of you who we have had the good fortune to have visit us here, may recognize the scene minus the house, shed and other out buildings. The floaty swirly stuff in this scenario would be my emotions.

How does a snow globe work? Something has to move the snow globe enough to make the floaty swirly stuff move around. It really doesn’t take much.

My snow globe has been getting “moved” at unpredictable times. After Joyce passed it seemed like the darn thing was being jostled every day. And the trigger could be anything. Perhaps it would just be the time of the day, the setting of the sun, the wildlife in the yard, or the discovery of an engagement ring in a collection of jewelry that could upset the calm of the globe.

My floaty swirly stuff includes longing, reflection, joy, calm, wonder, gratitude, awe, sadness, and relief. What is not included is regret or anger. There is no regret because I know that we did all that we could for Joyce during her struggle. There is no anger because I know that because we live we also die. When and how that happens is unfortunate to say the least, but it is inevitable. And as things played out there was nothing we did wrong and did not pursue. And more importantly, Joyce finished her life on her terms.

Oh, Heck, there I went and jostled my snow globe again.

For those who check back every now and again, I appreciate it very much. If you want to, you can choose to follow this blog. There is a button at the top right hand side that gives a follow option. In the past I tried to make regular updates for those who wanted to stay abreast of Joyce’s condition. At the moment I am not sure how often posts will occur. I will wait patiently for something to inspire me and that may take a while.

Settling Dust

 There is an old saying that a person can have a better perspective of events “after the dust settles.” I think I am at that point right now. A lot has gone on in the last several years that has affected me and those around me as well. 

Of course, those who read this blog know it is the passing of Joyce to which I am referring. A few blogs back I wrote about the idea that even in darkness there is light. And upon reflection that has borne out in the events preceding Joyce’s passing and in days since. 

So many friends and family reached out to share that help was available if it was needed. And when help was needed they were there. There were so many words of encouragement that buoyed us up when we were down. The goodness that we both saw was the light at the end of a dark tunnel.

At the Service for Joyce she had visitors from all phases of her well lived life. It was a great tribute to the beautiful person she was. We often talk about “paying things forward.” I truly believe she paid forward by modeling gifts of friendliness, caring, creativity and talent that she shared with all those around her.

I have to admit this is a tough post to write. My heart is heavy and my tears sometimes fall like the raindrops one sees during our famous Minnesota “sun showers.” I will be remembering times of joy and boom, the “raindrops” fall for a short period of time. And then boom, the dry eyes return and the sparkle of the memory brightens the rest of the day.

The great thing about grieving is that if you allow it to happen, the heart that is heavy finds strength to heal and allows memories to be had without the interruption of a sun shower. Gladness and fond recollection comfort the sadness in the heart as one would cradle a melancholy child.

I have discovered that it is not realistic to expect me to just move on. There is a void. I am learning day by day how to fill that void. My new daily routine is a work in progress. My first task to which I have assigned myself was to find out when I should go to bed and when I should wake up. I am still working on that one. I think I will wait to assign myself something else until I figure that one out. 

Baby steps, Gary, baby steps.

Funeral Service Update

 Pastor Michael and I met to talk about the service that is going to be held for Joyce on July 19, 2022 at the Randall Presbyterian Church.

The service will start at 10 a.m. and will be finished around 11 a.m. After the service there will be refreshments downstairs sponsored by the deacons of the church.

The original plan was to have the urn taken to Camp Ripley after the service but that has been put on hold until a later date.

I hope this is helpful for those planning to attend. And for those who will not be  here, we know that you will be in spirit. We want you to know that we are eternally grateful for all of the prayers and support that you have given Joyce and the family during this time.

Rest in Peace

 The arrangements for Joyce’s church service have been made. I thought I would post the obituary that Cole, Sharon and I put together that will be posted in a variety of places including the Shelley Funeral Services website.

Joyce Joanne McDonald

Joyce Joanne (Schnoor) McDonald passed peacefully at her home in Randall, Minnesota with her family by her side on Monday, June 20, 2022.  

A funeral service, led by Pastor Michael Hartwell, will be held at the Randall Presbyterian Church on July 19, 2022 at 10am to honor her life. Her final resting place will be at Veteran’s Cemetery at Camp Ripley, Minnesota. In light of the continuing public health concerns regarding the COVID pandemic, the family kindly requests that masks be worn at this service for the safety of all.

Joyce was the 4th of 5 children born to Robert and Theresa (Schroeder) Schnoor on October 24, 1948 in Fergus Falls, Minnesota. After living in Elizabeth, Minnesota, she and her siblings Alan, Ralph, and Dale, moved with their parents to the iron range to the city of Babbitt, Minnesota, where she completed her elementary schooling at the Frank A. Emanuelson School in Babbitt, Minnesota. Joyce completed her middle and high school grades at John F. Kennedy High School in Babbitt. While she was in high school, Joyce was a cheerleader and in the school marching band for the Babbitt Knights. Joyce attended St. Cloud State University after graduation to pursue a degree in English and art. She graduated with a Bachelor of Science in Elective Studies.

On March 7, 1970, she married Gary Thomas McDonald in Babbitt, Minnesota.  Their only child, Cole T McDonald, was born on June 4, 1971 in Augsburg, West Germany when Gary was stationed in Neu Ulm, Germany, while serving in the U.S. Army. She has two grandchildren; Garrison Patrick McDonald, and Kylara Tegan McDonald.

Upon their return to the United States, Joyce taught English as a Second Language to adult immigrants in the St. Cloud area. She started the Laubach Literacy Reading program in St. Cloud and spent her career coordinating volunteers for the Community Education program for Independent School District #742 for 25 years. Joyce and Gary loved to play cards, go camping with Cole, and play sports on community softball teams with friends. She also played the baritone, both in the community and in church.

When She and Gary retired, they moved to their home in Randall, Minnesota and named it “Peaceful Pines.” She planted her gardens, played scrabble with Gary every day, and used it as a home base while they adventured; camping around the state.  She loved nature and exploring the outdoors, sports, flowers, birds, animals, arts and crafts. Joyce led a Randall based exercise group called the Bone Builders. She was a member of a card making group that repurposed used cards to donate to St. Gabriel’s Hospital in Little Falls, Minnesota. She continued enjoying playing the baritone, and contributed to the Tuba Christmas event for many years.

Joyce was known for her sunny and optimistic view of life. She looked for the positive sides of others and situations, and her smile and positivity were contagious. Joyce’s legacy will live on through countless memories created with family and friends.

Joyce is preceded in death by her parents, Robert and Theresa (Schroeder) Schnoor, her in-laws Thomas and Alice McDonald, her brother, Ralph Schnoor, as well as numerous aunts, uncles, cousins, and her godfather Jerry Schroeder.

Joyce is survived by her husband, Gary of Randall, her son Cole (Sharon) of Sauk Rapids, her grandchildren Garrison (LaToya) of Lake Jackson, Texas and Kylara of St. Cloud. Her siblings Margaret Tabatt of St. Cloud, Minnesota,  Dale Schnoor of Eugene, Oregon, and Allen (Chris) Schnoor of Eugene, Oregon also survive her.

In lieu of gifts or flowers, the family requests donations to cancer research or services.

A Peaceful Transition

 This one is even tougher. Joyce passed away today, 6/20/22 at 3:00 PM.

And while her illness determined that this was going to be the ultimate outcome, it is, of course difficult to say goodbye to the love of your life and best friend. The greatest gift that we were given in her passing was how peacefully she passed. The hospice staff was incredibly helpful guiding us through the process. I was pretty organized. Some of you may have noticed that about me during all of this. But hospice helped me focus on the present to be mindful of what to look for and appreciate what we had done to keep her as comfortable as possible.

Cancer cures are happening every day. Cancer research is helping people live longer. I think it is important to remember that for Joyce it has been 7 years with which she has had to cope with this disease. We thought she had beaten the odds at the 5 year mark but after a short celebration we learned that the disease had metastasized. Her original therapy, at first, had held it at bay. After learning that the cancer had spread the doctors told us that our goal was to look forward to a 6 month timeline. That was almost 2 years ago. For those of you who have followed this blog, you have seen the new alternatives that have been tried and indeed have succeeded in prolonging the time Joyce was able to be with us. So, from my perspective I would suggest that we should all remain hopeful that  science will advance the evolution of medical healing.

To all of you who have offered hope and prayers, please know that we are eternally grateful for your heartfelt concern for Joyce and for me. It was a team effort for all of us and there were small victories along the way. In the last blog I said we were at the oasis where Joyce had wanted to be at the end. We settled in and enjoyed the time together we had left. For Joyce, this is THIS journey’s end. But, with her peaceful transition she is on a new adventure that will have her body free of pain and suffering. And for that I am very thankful.

The next posting will give the information about her church service and burial.

The oasis at journey’s end

    This is a tough one. Joyce has come to the decision that she is going to start hospice since there is nothing that will help her reduce the cancer that has progressed in her body. At this time the liver and the brain are the parts being affected. The goal from the beginning was to mitigate the pain and we have been successful so far in that regard. We did not foresee the brain as part of the equation and that presents a different set of obstacles with which to deal.

    Headaches, cognitive challenges and coordination have presented themselves as formidable. We are challenging the headaches with steroids and they have helped immensely.

    The cognitive challenges and coordination are not really treatable with a prescription. Walking, while possible in the past, is not an easy task now for Joyce. Her brain will not let her process the necessary function to get her feet moving for her. What used to be automatic has to be thought out and sometimes not successful in the attempt. So moving from room to room is not an easy option at this time. The hospice staff with whom we are meeting will figure out the best place for her to be in the house moving forward.

    Communication has become a challenge for her as well. She hears and understands the first part of a conversation, but then, as she describes it, “It gets mixed up.” She is becoming limited, at times, to one or two word responses. And those have to be thought out for a while before she presents them. Other times the conversation flows pretty freely. So, as we have through all of this, we live one day at a time and are thankful for the positive days. I recognize and understand this from when my father was dealing with his Alzheimers. Joyce’s is different in that she is aware of what is going on around her but it is just difficult, at times, for her to respond in real time.

    Of course we realize this was going to be the eventual fate of her disease. It is a time of sadness but also a time of acceptance. So, here at Peaceful Pines we will provide a safe oasis where she can be as pain free as possible and cared for until her journey’s end.

  

This is not that

 Back in the day our family used to make a paper chain to count down the days until an event was going to happen. It could have been the count down to the days until Christmas or the days until the end of the school year or the days to the start of a trip. We looked at it as something to which we would look forward.

Well, this is not that. We are now no longer on a sea voyage but at the beginning  of a trek through the unknown. We have a metaphoric paper chain, but do not know how many links are on it.

Joyce had gone in for her latest PET scan and had an additional MRI included in the orders. It turns out that her latest treatments have not been able to keep her cancer at bay. The cancer has decided to set up camp and expand in the area it was and to send off some of its troops to other parts of her body as well. With that in mind Joyce has made the decision in consultation with her doctor that her path forward will be to undergo radiation treatments for her brain, where new cancer cells have occurred, and after that to start the process of entering hospice care. We don’t know how long any of this will take to play itself out and that is why our metaphoric chain will be as long as it takes to reach the end of this journey.

Joyce is comfortable and that has always been the goal throughout this process. Well, actually one of three goals. The first goal was to see if we could get the cancer to go away. The goals now are quality of life and pain management.

So, what you will find us doing on this part of Joyce’s journey is settling in, here at our Peaceful Pines oasis watching the flowers bloom, the birds flit, the ducks and swans on the lake, the deer graze and the occasional bear come to try to destroy Gary’s feeders. That is the quality of life that rests in the soul of Joyce. The pain will be medicinally managed to help her enjoy a hopefully long linked chain of good quality days.

Someone once told us that Joyce would know when it was time to make this kind of decision. Joyce feels the time is right. Now that she has made that decision she feels less burdened. And that bodes well for partially satisfying the goal of nurturing her quality of life.

Pulling Up Anchor

 Well, we have pulled up anchor and set sail again on our voyage of palliative care. We have changed ships, however, and are now on the newly outfitted  “Keytruda-GC.” Since Joyce’s cancer had progressed, her next best option ( in our opinion ) turns out to be what is called immunotherapy. Keytruda was okayed for use in July of 2021 for high risk triple negative breast cancer patients. In the blood tests after her last Trodelvy treatment her markers indicated that this new path may be helpful.

One positive note we took away from her last PET scan was that instead of a whole bunch of cancer all over the place, it seems to have settled in the area of the liver. I know, that should not sound like good news. But, if it is there, treatments that are more specific to targeting the liver are available now than had been in the past.

After her second infusion of the new treatment, Joyce had a DNA sample sent to the genetic counselors here at the Coborn Cancer Center. They are going to send it out to a lab on the west coast. Specifically, at this time, we are going to see if there is a BRCA2 mutation of some sort. If that is the case it opens up treatment options that are just being developed. This is being characterized as “targeted therapy using PARP inhibitors.” it is at the molecular level compared to the “bombard everything” level. Don’t get me wrong. The “bombard everything” level helped us to get to where we are today and for that I am grateful.

So, for now, we are on the Ketruda-GC under full sail. Yes, there will be moments when Joyce is “at the rail” dealing with the affects of this new medicine and I will be there to hold her hand and emptying the buckets. Needless to say we are very thankful for compazine and zofran to help her get through those moments. 

Beyond the Horizon

 

When we look out our window we can see the tree line across the lake. The pines stand tall blocking the view of what lies beyond. The horizon from that short perspective is the tops of the trees. When we are on the road and the highway stretches miles and miles before us, the horizon from that perspective is that point “just over the next hill.” Our journey of uncertainty has us on a metaphorical ship on a metaphorical sea. And from that perspective the horizon is, at times, absent. Regardless of the perspective, what lies beyond is both our hope and our destiny.

To start the year, Joyce had another PET Scan. The results have shown us that her current treatment has done all it can do to keep her cancer at bay. We knew going into this treatment, since it was just recently approved in the spring of 2021, that it would help for a while, but not forever. The cancer she had in her lungs is not present. The cancer she had in her upper torso is not present. That was all good news. The cancer in her liver has progressed. That was the bad news. And with that news we are forced, temporarily, to drop anchor, so to speak, on her treatments. She will be scheduled for a biopsy of her liver in the next few days. After that we have to wait for couple of weeks for the results to come back, the new treatment to be decided upon and the insurance okays to be done.

The key phrase in the last paragraph, “the new treatment to be decided upon,” is the one on which to focus. According to her doctor, there may not be a treatment that is suitable for her situation. So, while there is always hope, we still live with the reality of the moment. And in that sense the current horizon line is the tree tops across the lake.

For all that is unknown at the moment, I do want to point out that it is encouraging that Joyce is getting ready to chase me around the house for telling bad jokes. She has been working at getting stronger. At the moment she has worked her way up to walking the length of a football field and going down and up the basement stairs 3 times in succession. It just points out once again how much of a fighter she is as she works her way through all of this.