Run for Dori

Full Days

2012-02-12T10:02:00.003-06:00

Family life continues to be fast-paced, probably a very good thing. We're being productive, which is also very good.

On Thursday, 35 friends and family members convened at Gilda's Club Nashville to hear about tremendous cancer research progress. Mark Neidig, executive director with the Kanzius Cancer Research Foundation, announced the new Gen V machine that can treat humans has been delivered to MD Anderson Cancer Center in Houston. He also noted that hospital has proven the Kanzius treatment gets into the nucleus of the cancer cell and destroys it. I encourage you to keep KCRF and Gilda's Club Nashville, linked to your left, in your 2012 giving plans.

Yesterday morning, at the request of my friend Jim Asker, I delivered the mission moment to about 50 Team in Training members. Jim is a lymphoma survivor and one of my best running buddies. At the gathering, I saw Shelley, a young woman who was our nanny one summer when the kids were very young. Her mother has been diagnosed with stage 4 non-Hodgkins lymphoma. At the Thursday event, I saw my friend Donna, whose mother is battling breast cancer. Every way I turn ... I swear.

I stayed with the TNT group yesterday and ran 8.5 miles in cold weather, capping off an 18-mile week. I ran easy until the last mile. It was nice to crack the whip and have some giddyup. It's time to get serious about increasing mileage if I'm going to run a half marathon or two this spring.

On the news front, The Dori Brown Discovery Grant has been awarded to Dr. Scott Hiebert, who will be using the funds to conduct blood cancer research at Vanderbilt. I am so grateful to my friends Tony and Mary Belle Grande for spearheading that effort. Another grant is likely later this year.

Eight days ago, we spent a very special evening with Vanderbilt Baseball Coach Tim Corbin, his wife Maggie and daughter Molly. We were guests at their table for their annual baseball banquet, during which coach looked back on last year and introduced team members for the current year. Before he did that, Coach talked about Dori and our family in front of 500 fans.

Tim honored my wife by talking about her courage, determination and focus, reading an email I sent to him a few days before she died. An exhausted Dori wouldn't go to sleep until Will and I returned home from an important game to ask if Vandy had won. After I said yes, she fell asleep immediately. Then he talked about our journey with the team, from the evening of the June 10 game, only hours after her funeral, to meeting the team bus at 6 a.m. to wish the team well on its trip to Omaha, to being with the team for nine days in Nebraska. What an honor to be with the Corbins and his baseball family.

I'll answer two questions I hear every day: "How are the kids" and "How are YOU?" Kathryn and Will seem to be doing as well as can be expected. Their grades remain excellent and basketball season is wrapping up. Kathryn's team is 11-6; Will's team is quite good, 8-2, and improving every week. Will is about to start lacrosse and Kathryn will play volleyball again. Will has set his sights on hockey later this year. Will has been chosen to represent his school in a math contest and Kathryn's singing continues to impress. Like I said, pedal not brakes.

Emotionally, the kids are handling things very differently, which one would expect (different sexes and ages). I am proud of both of them for doing their best and continuing to learn how to cope with such a terrible situation. It's been eight months, and it's going to take a lot more time.

I guess I should say the same about myself. Some moments are very difficult. I miss her more, it seems, with every passing day. Some friends have suggested I take off a few days, without the kids, to have some Jim time. I know they're trying to be nice, but the kids are the biggest thing keeping me going right now. I wouldn't leave them right now for any reason. I'm trying to establish a beachhead, move inland a few miles and get reinforcements. Ever see the movie "Saving Private Ryan?" Speaking of war, I think my friend PJ mentioned the book Unbroken on her blog a few months ago. The book is a classic story of willpower, forgiveness and peace, perhaps the best I've ever read.

Those are the things I hold closely these days. That and the memory of the best woman I ever knew.

You Are Invited

2012-01-27T08:17:00.007-06:00

All you need to do is RSVP ... Hope to see many of you February 9.

Kanzius Cancer Research Foundation is bringing THE NEXT WAVE to Nashville!

Mr. Jim Brown invites you to learn about research of “the world’s most promising cancer treatment:” the Kanzius Noninvasive Radiowave Cancer Treatment. The Kanzius Foundation’s Executive Director, Mark A. Neidig, Sr. will be a conducting a meet and greet informational forum on how your support is translating into meaningful breakthroughs in the research lab:

Thursday, February 9, 2012 from 5:00‐6:30pm
Gilda’s Club Nashville
1707 Division Street
Nashville, TN 37203
615.329.1124 (for directions)

Parking is available behind Gilda’s Club, accessible by alley or via Music Row. Please join our host, Jim Brown, for heavy hors’ doevres and to hear firsthand the latest progress on John Kanzius’ novel way of treating cancer…without side effects!

Don’t miss out on this unique insider’s forum and an opportunity to ask questions. We encourage you to bring a friend, but respond quickly because there is very limited space available.

Please RSVP to Michele Borsa at (814) 480‐5776 or Michele@Kanzius.org before 5pm on Monday, February 6th.

The Happy Question

2012-01-11T18:36:00.002-06:00

The other day, a smart person I love very much asked me if I'm happy.

"How do you define happy?" I replied.

I said I guess if it means doing the best you can with the circumstances you're in, then yes, I'm happy under that definition. But not happy like I was before.

I read a good book, The Red Sea Rules by Robert Morgan, over the break. Rule No. 4 is titled, "Pray." I've never needed to pray more, dealing with the loss of Dori and its impact on me and my family. I pray for patience, understanding, wisdom, guidance and peace. But mostly patience.

I'm doing better as a parent than I was a few months ago. Somehow, I think my prayers are being answered. I say fairly intelligent things to my children these days like, "How can we make sense out of something that makes no sense? ... We can't."

I thank you all for your prayers, too, and so does Dori.

Christmas in the Mountains

2012-01-02T18:52:00.009-06:00

The kids, my mother and I spent Christmas in Steamboat Springs, a place Dori and I visited many times, including our honeymoon. It was a great call.

Will loved skiing and Kathryn warmed up to it after a day or so. By Day Five, the kids were ready to try a black slope. Will flew down the mountain like Franz Klammer. Kathryn loved the blues and did very well the last day, keeping up with the boys.

My trip was eventful. On the second day, heading down Sunshine, a fairly easy blue, the trail cut off into a narrow tree-lined pass because the bottom wasn't ready to be opened. The trail was icy, and I was going full speed. You can guess the rest. I slammed head first, with my goggles and nose taking the brunt of the fall, along with my right thumb, which still hurts 10 days later.

Will was really into the skiing, so I cleaned up the nose cuts, found a way to get my ski glove back on my throbbing hand and back we went. I had fun, discomfort and all. I told my sister I was sorry the fall didn't knock any sense into me, but I was fortunate it wasn't worse.

Having my mom in Colorado was a real treat. She loves to cook and take care of us, and we love being with her. She smiled the whole week, having never been in Colorado. I'm so glad she joined us.

Christmas Eve at Mass and watching Christmas movies without Dori was too much for me. I think I cried on and off for five hours. The next day, I was fine. Still am, in fact. We've been so busy and active, part of the plan, that we haven't had much time to be down. That said, I still think about her all the time. I miss her more than ever.

This past weekend, the kids and I joined my friend Al and 32,000 other screaming Vanderbilt fans at the Liberty Bowl in Memphis. We tailgated, ate great Memphis BBQ and saw many old friends. Our Dores lost, 31-24, but I really didn't care too much. They had a good year, and the future is bright.

All this activity has been good, but I have missed being on a schedule. The holidays means rich food, sweets, the extra glass of wine and other things that want to attach themselves to my waistline. I do seem to be getting back into a normal routine and doing fine with chores. This morning, Pepper and I ran six rolling miles in the most remote part of Percy Warner Park. It was brisk and windy, great for both of us.

I'll try to post more photos on Facebook, but here are a few images from Christmas in Colorado with two great children who make their dad proud.

A New Tree

2011-12-16T18:18:00.004-06:00

December has been hard, just like I knew it would be. The Christmas tree, Christmas cards, the awkward man-wrapping of presents. I knew every bit of it would be surreal, rough or both.

Dori always decorated the tree with the kids, not literally of course. Leading that evolution was different, but the kids helped me some and our tree looks nice. The Christmas cards? I'm doing them to honor Dori and to communicate to our friends and family that we will celebrate our Lord's birthday and wish them joy. Who knew the whole thing would take seven hours? I went to five outlets to find the right-sized envelopes, but when the cards didn't fit, I reacted like Animal the Muppet Drummer.

We are counting our blessings. I LOVE our new church. So do the kids. The homilies from the two priests are always stellar. Our nanny is doing a great job. The kids have good grades. I love my family. They have been terrific to the kids and me. I appreciate their patience, love, understanding, advice and kindness, even if sometimes I don't act like it.

I believe I'm doing OK, but some days are too much. So I cry, something I've started doing more frequently the last few weeks. The realization that I was married to the best woman I ever met is hard to process, especially during Christmas and her birthday last week. I'm so sorry for Dori's sister and friends that she's not here to call them and make them feel good.

Lonely but lucky, I'm where I'm supposed to be, I guess. We're going to do a little skiing soon and some rare December Commodore football at the Liberty Bowl. I'm ready to point my skis down the slopes of Steamboat Springs, yell for our school, and encourage my kids to do the same. And hey, KC and the Sunshine Band will be playing at halftime. The forecast for Memphis calls for a slight chance of cheese. Give it up, KC.

Lifting of the Fog

2011-12-04T08:49:00.006-06:00

When Dori left us, she left behind a tremendous legacy. Next Friday, we will remember her on what would have been her 44th birthday. It will be tremendously painful, just like the October wedding anniversary without her.

Earlier this week, we had a London-like fog in Nashville. It's the same kind of fog our family has been experiencing this year. It didn't want to lift, and we had terrible accidents across town, including one 55-car pileup and a fatality. Around lunchtime, the fog finally abated. The day transformed into a crisp, late autumn day with plenty of sunshine.

My son seems to have experienced something similar this week. A gifted basketball player, his heart wasn't into it this summer and fall. One can understand why. He played a decent first game on Thursday, with smiles scattered throughout the game. His team lost, but he said he had fun. All fall, Will only shot baskets when I challenged him to a game of "horse." Late this week, he began shooting baskets on his own. I sensed a change.

Yesterday, Will played like Will, scoring, rebounding and dishing assists. His team won, 26-17. I wasn't there, as I was at Kathryn's game, but I could see the game in my head as my sister texted me how he was doing. One text: "He's playing like a freakin' NBA player." Parents near me probably wondered why I couldn't stop smiling, as Kathryn's team trailed its arch-rival. I couldn't stop seeing Will drive the ball to the basket with a smile on his face! Thanks to my sister, you have a little visual.

At home, Will recounted key plays, smiling the entire time. He nodded in agreement when I shared that his mother was beaming with pride at his accomplishment. Most of this fall, our family has had a few steps forward, a few steps back. Yesterday was a leap forward, and I couldn't be happier for him and us.

Redemption

2011-11-24T10:39:00.006-06:00

This morning, Kathryn, Will and I ran the Boulevard Bolt, a five miler with 8,000 participants. The race benefits the homeless and hungry.

I was hungry for redemption. Last month's disappointing marathon result still lingered. My plan was to run the first mile with the kids, then go. Will hung with me for awhile, but I was hunting for pain. It was time to fight through it, with better results.

My Garmin clocked me at just over 42:30, an 8:30/mile pace. It wasn't a PR for this race (41:48 in 2008), but I'm pleased with the time. Will finished a few minutes behind me and Kathryn a few minutes behind him.

I thought of Dori before, during and after the race. And I'll think of her all day today, too. Thanksgiving without her is mind-numbing and heart-wrenching. Last year's celebration was an occasion her sister Kathy and I will never forget.

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone, and be blessed.

Thanksgiving Day Follow-Up: Some proof we were there ... Apparently this photo is on the front page of the Local News section.

Another Drop

2011-11-14T20:45:00.003-06:00

In years past, I could count on my hand the number of times I would drop something over the course of a year. Now, each week, I drop a lot of things - a dish, clothes, food, whatever - sometimes five times or more a week. I haven't destroyed anything big yet, but a homemade artisan pizza I made last week hit the floor. After my expletive, I managed to laugh. My new clumsiness is one of the "little things" I've noticed that's different now.

Many times this fall, I've been told I need to allow people to help me manage the balance I used to have in my life. If only it were that simple. We do have a nanny, which is helpful, and my family is stepping up as well. When there are two parents, it's not too hard to handle the unexpected occurrences. When there's only one, however, it means stopping everything else you're doing and making a flurry of phone calls. It happens often. Managing chaos is a recurring part of life, like it or not. I'm working on welcoming it, though some days it just ain't easy.

The grief process, for the children and me, is about as intense as it's been. Dori's absence is felt every day, sometimes in pulses and sometimes in giant waves. I didn't fully understand her greatness until she was sick. I didn't revere it until she was gone. Her grace and understanding were immeasurable. I think the kids feel the same way.

It's funny. For the most part, the phone calls to help have stopped. Friends, mine and Dori's, don't check in as often. All of that is perfectly OK because fielding those kind calls took time; there's really not much anyone can do, anyway.

I think about Dori more than ever, sometimes constantly, now that some of the shock has subsided. Even though I still have my kids, my job and my health, at times I feel like I'm only half here. I don't have the conversation I loved, the hugs that made my day and the smile that told me everything was going to be alright.

My outlook remains positive, but my soul continues to ache. I want her back, which can't happen. It's a trap I must evade, knowing she's in His hands and I better do my best to earn the right to join her. How's that for frank blogging?

Family Run

2011-10-31T05:26:00.007-05:00

I certainly expected to break down emotionally at the end of yesterday's race. I did. But I didn't expect to break down physically during the race.

I haven't talked much about my training the last four months. It went really well. Very good long runs, few aches and sores. Quick recoveries. I entered yesterday's race calm and confident. Three weeks ago, I completed my 22-miler in 3:57 and kicked the last mile. I was going to PR, maybe a 4:40 or better.

Starting Tuesday, my muscles felt achy and I started sleeping hard, nine hours instead of my usual six. One day, I had a splitting headache and scratchy throat. I thought I might have fought off a cold, but I wasn't sure. Yesterday, thankfully, I felt fine at the start.

I had planned to tell the kids at some point before the race that I wasn't just running for their mom, but for them. Throughout my training, I prayed often my kids would see that I was honoring their mother with effort and love, and I hoped they'd find ways to do that all their lives. It dominates my thoughts. So I told them before the gun, "Today is for you guys, and I love you." Off to my PR.

Race conditions weren't the best, but they weren't as bad as we expected. The remnants of an epic Nor'easter, 30 mph winds with 40 mph gusts, were going to make the challenge a little tougher. But a little wind never hurt anyone, so off we went. I ran well for eight miles, cruising a comfortable 10:30/mile pace. I chatted with a nice lady named Linda, running her first marathon in her 50s. She said a few years ago she "freaked out" after her husband left her, so she started running. She looked happy about what she was doing. Good for her.

When I hit the first hill at Mile 8, I felt OK, but not the way I should have felt. This fall, I ran several hilly training runs because the Cape Cod course is challenging. Hmmm. At Mile 10, I felt like I was losing power. The next mile, my stomach cramped. Linda was gone. A few miles later, my legs cramped. Everything ... legs, the arches in my feet, lower back. I could barely run. What the ... !

My legs felt like they were 150 pounds each. I had trouble breathing. So I walked a little, ran a little. I'd never bonked so early. Bonking is supposed to happen at Mile 19 or 20. My mother handed me fig bars and an energy bag at Mile 21. I declined. A race official looked at me funny, like she was going to tell me to stop. I looked at her with red-deviled eyes. She knew what I was thinking. Don't say a word, leave him alone.

I managed to get up the hill at Nobska Lighthouse, but I was done. I'd run less than a half mile, walk, then run again. You probably wouldn't call it running, though. When I neared the town of Falmouth, where the finish line awaited, I saw Kathryn and Will way before the crowd. They were obviously worried, checking on me. I turned for home, finished, got away from the crowd and started crying uncontrollably. The next 15 minutes, I just hugged Kathryn, Will, Mom and Anne. Dori's uncle and aunt drove me home. That was it.

I don't know why yesterday had to be that way, but I don't know why my precious wife is gone. I do know that I have two remarkable children, a wonderful family and many more reasons to live a good life. I love you, Dori, and I always will. I'll see you when I see you.

A Call From Kanzius

2011-10-25T15:13:00.004-05:00

I recently stumbled on this commentary from the director of the Kanzius Cancer Reserach Foundation. He mentions Dori and my upcoming run in honor of her and to raise money for their research.

Last night, a gentleman from KCRF called to ask if they could feature our story in their winter newsletter. Of course I said "yes." I want to raise as much awareness as possible for them and cancer research, in general. The Kanzius folks also are talking about flying down from Pennsylvania to do a meet-and-greet with the many donors who have stepped up for our team.

All of this would make Dori smile.

Someone else I knew died from cancer today. I didn't even know she was sick. She was diagnosed only a few weeks ago, three years after losing her husband to cancer.

Run, donate and pray. That's mostly what I know these days.

Fundamentals

2011-10-23T15:41:00.005-05:00

What a month.

I love autumn, but this one has been work. The week leading up to October 15, which would have been my 17th year married to Dori, was hard. I was quiet, introverted, and mostly sad.

The morning of the 15th, I ran 12 miles, six with friends and the last six solo. I ran too hard on the return route, but I couldn't stop myself. So much for tapering. Later that day, the kids and I went to watch Vanderbilt play Georgia. Seventeen years ago to the day, Vanderbilt played Georgia hours before our wedding. I watched the game, a great one in fact, but my mind was elsewhere.

"How are the kids?" I hear that question 10 times a week. I answer it the same: "It's hard for them right now." The good news is they're confronting some of their grief. The bad news is their dad has to watch it. Being a parent right now is taking a toll, but we are making progress. We also have a long way to go.

This afternoon on a hike, I asked the kids if they remembered a homily from late summer. The theme - bad things will happen to all of us, if they haven't already - had my attention. He said our response to tragedy or turmoil is most important. I'm not sure if they believe the priest's conclusion, but I am sure they're thinking about it.

We're working on fundamentals around here. Blocking and tackling. We don't have any trick plays and couldn't run any if we tried. We have a lot of weeding to do. Today's talk and hike killed a few weeds, but weeding never ends, which I think the kids are beginning to understand. My plan is to continue with an honest, direct approach.

Thursday night, my friends Tony and Mary Belle hosted a gathering to raise money for a discovery grant, which can lead to some profound discoveries that make a tremendous impact on lives, for the Vanderbilt Ingram Cancer Center. VICC treated Tony's thyroid cancer successfully and Dori's leukemia. To achieve a grant, we needed to raise $35,000. We're at $44,000 and counting and hopefully will raise enough to consider making it two discovery grants. You can give online referencing the Dori Brown Discovery Grant at: http://www.vicc.org/about/help/. If you would like to donate to my run in support of the Kanzius Cancer Research Foundation you can honor Dori and still give here. Many cyber-thanks you's.

Last night, a friend asked if anyone was running with me at next Sunday's Cape Cod Marathon. I shared I unsuccessfully tried to recruit a friend, then added, "Dori will be with me the whole run. We're going to kick this race square in the a**."

After all the training, 438 miles to date along with cross-training, I am grateful to be pain free. Yesterday, I cruised eight smooth miles in the hills of Percy Warner Park. I am ready and eager to tie my shoes.

When The Whistle Blows

2011-10-09T08:45:00.004-05:00

For most of my life, I looked forward to the weekend. Most of us have been conditioned to work hard all week, then recreate, chill or socialize starting Friday afternoon. My weekends used to be that way. To some extent, they still are.

Mostly, though, weekends take me and the kids out of the distracting routine of work and school. During the week, we are mostly protected from dealing with our loss. We have had some difficult moments in our home, and most occur on the weekends.

I'm not a mother, but a parent trying to fill two roles. Sometimes, even when I do a good job, it doesn't matter. I don't pretend to be the great mother Dori was; in fact, I ask not to be compared to her. Little events can trigger unexpected responses, and how we phrase things matters, especially when emotions are raw. This reality is hard for me and the kids, no question.

Dori and I would have celebrated our 17th anniversary next Saturday. My heart will ache all week. I will start Saturday morning with a training run, then watch football with the kids that evening. This week will also be filled with the knowledge I had an amazing wife who I still love very dearly. I know she is smiling upon us, and I know we will be together again, which comforts me.

Yesterday morning, I ran 22 miles with my friend Mark. I forgot how long 22 miles is. If you just thought "a long damned way," so did I. It felt like it yesterday. At Mile 15, we came upon our buddies Jim, Carey and Dan. They ran the last seven with us, and a girl named Jenny joined us at Mile 19. Miles 17 through 21 were rough, but Dan kept me on my pace, which I was able to drop the last mile. My finish was good, and I'm recovering fine. Let the tapering begin.

So Far Away

2011-10-04T05:50:00.005-05:00

When I was a teenager, I despised psychology, counselors and the like. It was uncool, probably because it was forced on me. Today, I don't know where my children and I would be without "being equipped."

Like most parents, I am proud of my children. They are two very special people, and I see much of Dori in both of them. That is comforting, to say the least, that I know I still have some of her here on earth.

The kids are doing what they can with the tools they have. My role is to make sure all the tools are in the toolbox and that they use them when they need them. Both have kept an open mind to talking through obvious challenges. Through disease and loss, I've seen some families deny completely what has happened to them; those children are not doing well at all.

When a hurricane hits, you better know what to do. And you better be ready to rebuild. That's what Dori wanted us to do, and I'm doing my darned best to honor that. For the first grading period, the kids had all A's with one B on one report card. That's outstanding, given what they're experiencing. Kathryn, who is very musical, is playing the piano and becoming quite the singer. Will loves his friends, who are some of the most funloving kids on this planet.

Days are going well for all three of us. Mornings can be tough, and evenings even tougher. Work and school are very good. We have a long road ahead of us, but I like that we're on the yellow brick road, with a head start on the oil, heart and brainpower we'll continue to need and use.

When you think you've heard it all, you find something special about a favorite, this time on YouTube. Enjoy, sister Anne, from your distant land.

'Beautiful Day'

2011-09-25T08:27:00.005-05:00

Yesterday was a good day, for many reasons.

At 5:15 a.m., I drove in the dark to put out water, power drinks and food along my planned route, which would start and end at Grassland Park. The route that traverses farms, grassland and the Harpeth River follows Moran Road, Old Natchez Road and Del Rio Pike. Runners World magazine has a photo feature called "Rave Run" in each issue; yesterday's route would qualify.

My solo run began at 5:45 in snappy sub-50 air and with a Dire Straits shuffle on my iPod. I ran through patches of mist, which became increasingly enthralling as the sun slowly rose. On Moran Road, I gazed at horses, silhouettes in the misty dawn framed by barns in the distance. A red-tailed hawk chased a small bird, hoping to conclude the dance with a morning meal. Bluebirds chirped from fences, while mating doves watched them from a higher perch. The sky alternated between rose and sky blue before settling on a dominant azure.

A common sight along Moran Road

I stopped for only a minute at miles 3, 6 and 8.5, simulating the race I'll be running next month. Near Mile 6, my good friend Michael rode alongside on his bike, chatting for a few minutes before continuing his 40-miler to Leipers Fork. He was one of hundreds of bikers I would see; I saw only 10 runners the entire morning. Everyone said hello.

Part of the challenge of running 20 miles is the loneliness as the mileage increases. But I was loving the music, the scenery and cool air. After the Mile 10 turnaround, where my average pace was 10:40/mile, my knees began to ache mildly. As the discomfort gradually increased, I struck up conversations with Dori, as well as Chuck, Sigourney and other friends whose lives were cut short by cancer. Their soothing smiles gently nudged me down the road. The pain faded.

I picked up the pace the last three miles, finishing in three hours, 31 minutes, a 10:33/mile average pace.

Feeling good, I cranked up some U2 and drove to the fuel stops to retrieve my trash. When "Beautiful Day" started, I thought of the irony. That was Dori's favorite song. I shed some tears, something I hadn't done since early August. I thought, "Today is indeed a beautiful day, my love." I knew she was there with me yesterday.

This week's 36 total miles went very well. I have one more really long run, 22 miles, in two weeks. I would love for that run and race day to be similar to yesterday. Spirituality cancels the pain.

When It Rains ...

2011-09-22T18:07:00.006-05:00

Sometimes, I wonder if I'm asking friends for too much support for cancer research funds. Then, I have a week like this one.

A few days ago, I read about a prominent attorney who died from AML, the same cancer that took Dori's life. Today, one of my co-workers announced he lost his young brother in his early 40s to non-Hodgkins lymphoma. His brother leaves a wife and two boys, ages 12 and 9. This afternoon, a friend told me about a co-worker who lost his three-year-old to stomach cancer.

I thought today about other obvious reasons I'm running, and the ask becomes easy. So here's the link. Some checks are in the mail, putting the effort at $9,000. Your help is most appreciated. I hope the Kanzius Cancer Research folks think this effort is a good one, and I hope more people do something.

One other thing. I spoke with someone who helped me put in perspective when a friend says something awkward or even unintentionally hurtful. He said maybe I could relate to this: "Other than your husband being shot, how was the play, Mrs. Lincoln?"

Don't worry. I'll only think about that and won't ever say it. Our secret.

Right Again

2011-09-18T09:39:00.002-05:00

When Vanderbilt hired football coach James Franklin last December, Dori took notice while I yawned. I had already decided not to renew my two season tickets, frustrated with decades of ineptitude and seeming waste of half my busy weekends. Dori kept chirping all winter, "Jim, I like this coach. You need to support him. He seems a lot like Tim Corbin (Vandy's baseball coach)."

"Give him a chance."

She finally wore me down, and I purchased four tickets, not two.

Yesterday, Vanderbilt smashed Ole Miss, 30-7. After watching the first three games, I see a much better coached, aggressive team. The offense isn't quite there yet, but they are creative and play hard. The defense is amazing. They punish opponents and are trying to score harder than the other team's offense. They've scored at least 23 points the first three games and set up other scores. Special teams? I wouldn't want to return kicks against us.

Yesterday's blowout win was Vandy's largest against an SEC opponent in 40 years. After the game, the coach and players talked about each other, using words like "family," "we," and "each other." The schedule looks daunting, but I'm looking forward to watching these guys play more football.

I left the house yesterday morning at 5:30 to run 13 miles. Armed only with an ipod, yogurt pretzels and water, I ran downtown, around Vandy's campus and back home. The beginning and end of the run weren't easy, but overall I ran fine, a 10:26/mile pace. This week, I ramp up the mileage considerably, running 20 on Saturday.

Got Your Back

2011-09-11T20:40:00.003-05:00

My friends are doing everything they can to help. This weekend was no exception.

Yesterday morning, my friend and Team in Training Coach Jim organized a reunion of TNT alumni. He spoke about Dori in a very special way, then presented me a card and heavy envelope, which I didn't open until later. Then he asked everyone to honor Dori by running silently for the first minute of our run. No one spoke for about five minutes. I was deeply moved and motivated to have a great run.

After six miles, I surged ahead, covering 10 miles alone, with only Sammi the Sweeper pulling up in her SUV every 30 minutes to see how I was. At the last water stop at Mile 14, she pulled away. My legs were heavy from Thursday speed work, but I knew I was going to maintain my pace. At Mile 16, a car pulled up, Sammi jumped out, and asked, "Can I run with you?" Heck yea, I said, thrilled to have the company. I finshed 17 miles in three hours, one minute. Later, I opened the card and envelope, which had many generous contributions to the kids' education fund.

After some rest, the kids and I joined my friend Al for some tailgating, then some Vanderbilt football. The Dores upset UConn, 24-21. Last night, I slept like a nursed newborn.

This morning, I hit the road with my friends Caroline and Joe, Julie, Debra, Henry, and three dogs, including Pepper. We hiked Virgin Falls Pocket Wilderness, a fairly strenuous nine-miler. I've known Caroline and Julie since high school, and the car ride went by quickly with great conversation, as did the hike. I feel great, after two days of 26 miles of exercise.

I know people are trying to pick me up. They know right now is tough. They know I would do anything to make my kids feel a little better. They are contributing to my fundraising and praying for comfort and peace. I know Dori is watching all this, including her weepy husband yesterday when I read the card that said, "Sorrow isn't forever. Love is."

All of this just makes me want to train harder.

A Red Bandanna

2011-09-04T15:44:00.010-05:00

People want to help, and many are.

Nearly 50 friends have already given or pledged about $4,000 for the Kanzius fundraising. This isn't the best economy, so I appreciate any contribution. As much as the money for the research, this effort is about locking arms against cancer. Thank you, each and all.

Yesterday's run was hot. My schedule said 17 miles, which I may have been able to do if I had started at 4:30. But I decided to run with the same group as last week, and they start "late" at 6:30. So I ran 12. By the end of the run, it was 85 degrees. I was happy with the 10:30/mile pace. A cold front moves through soon, and I couldn't be more ready for the change. When I retire, I plan to get the hell out of the Deep South for much of the summer.

Other positives include the hummingbird who has graced our backyard feeder the last few weeks and the good return to school and work for the children and me, respectively. I am managing to keep up with lunches, dinners, housework, laundry, bills and other tasks. I hired an afternoon nanny, who is helping me manage the transition from school to dinner. I also traded in one of our vans for a used Nissan Xterra, which the kids are really enjoying. So is their dad.

Sounds great, right? I'm sleeping about five to six hours a night, but waking up fairly often. Apparently, that's enough sleep, because I'm making it through the day. I won't do pills, if you're wondering. I saw enough medication, and their side effects, the last four years. No way.

The hardest thing right now, for me and the kids, is being in the house without her. I'm alone right now, while the kids shop with my sister. The break is nice, but the silence can be deafening. I have music playing to fill some of the gargantuan void. I'm always doing something; today, it was cleaning the gutters, vaccuuming and more laundry. None of it will bring her back, and I know it. So I stay on the move, knowing any extended period of down time would just be too much right now.

A few have said some awkward things in recent weeks. I know they mean well or they're just saying something before they catch themselves. A few asked, "How was your summer?" Some others have said, "I know you'll remarry," which almost made me cry. One of my greatest fears at the moment is being in the presence of another woman at a restaurant or somewhere public. With three or more at a table, I'm cool. Business breakfasts are OK, too. But one-on-one at lunch or dinner, no way. I had an experience earlier this summer, unintentional when a few buddies showed up late, and I was left alone with someone, a very nice person and friend in fact. It didn't matter. I was a mess.

I'm investing all of my energy in a few places - my children, work and running. At some point, I'll have to deal with the rest of my life and pick up the pieces, but now is definitely not the time.

Will and I saw a beautiful story this morning about a young leader, selfless and giving, who saved a dozen people on 9/11. It might make you want to purchase a red bandanna, like one my son is wearing this afternoon.

My Run Against Cancer

2011-08-29T19:08:00.004-05:00

It's time to rumble.

The fine folks at Kanzius Cancer Research Foundation have set up an avenue for people like me to raise money for their breakthrough non-invasive treatment of cancer. KCRF has been featured several times on 60 Minutes. If you've followed this blog for awhile, you know I'm jazzed about what they're doing. It's a big reason I've decided to run the Cape Cod Marathon and raise money for this special effort.

When Dori relapsed this spring, one of the first calls I made was to KCRF to see where human trials are. They're a few years away, and they need funds. They've had great success with their technology on rats, frying cancer cells while leaving the non-cancerous cells intact.

I'm an optimist, but I'm also a realist. I haven't swallowed the kool-aid, but I'm wanting to make some, for everyone. It's one of the ways I can honor Dori, along with raising our children the right way.

You can help with the former. I'd be honored to have your support.

Training

2011-08-28T07:27:00.003-05:00

Yesterday morning, I ran 14 miles with a team of 10 who are dedicated to doing something about cancer. The run went very well, six of the 14 in the hills of Percy Warner Park. The air was perfect. Fall is around the corner.

My friend Jim, a lymphoma survivor who loved Dori, invited me to join his group, most of whom were with Team in Training. Jim is kind, unselfish and just a champion individual. I also ran with Sammie, who is there every Saturday to set up water stations and encourage new runners.

I met a lot of nice people yesterday, including Erica, a mother of three, who is running her first half marathon; Teri Ann, who fights through asthma during her training; Emmitt, who organizes area races that help support causes in our community; and other cool folks. That's the thing about running ... You meet a lot of nice people when the sun rises. Glass half full, smiles, can-do ... you know the type.

After 10 miles, I ran solo, adding some mileage to reach my 14. Only at Mile 13 did I feel some discomfort. That's where I talked to Dori, feeling her presence and smile. It was one of the nicest moments I've had with her since her death. It's the same conversation I will have with her on the other long runs and marathon later this fall.

My fundraising page is up, and I'll post it after one final kink is fixed. I'll be inviting you all to join me for the ride. It would be an honor to have you along.

Moved to Action

2011-08-13T19:14:00.011-05:00

After a full day of cleaning the house, doing the laundry and running errands, tonight's choice was either to watch pre-season NFL football or blog. Here I am, folks.

Work is good, and the kids are back in school. Routine has returned, and my running is ramping up. Dori is still on my mind constantly, very much so on my training runs for the Cape Cod Marathon. I have completed nearly two months of training for this race, the same one I completed in 2009. Dori adored the Cape, and the kids and I love it, too. We'll honor her in many ways while we are there.

The first break from the heat arrived midweek, and I took full advantage. After a wobbly 10-miler last Saturday, I ran five in mid-60 temps, then another six Friday morning. It was so much easier after suffering through the July-early August oven. Once it cools off more, I'll be running 15s and a few 20s. I'll be fundraising, too. More on that later.

One of Dori's best friends e-mailed me this week to share she has been notified by the Be the Match folks. She may be called soon to donate marrow and save a life. Through mostly Dori's efforts, hundreds of new donors are on the registry. It's not too late to register, just click. If you're into saving a life, I encourage it. Some of you may remember Hans, Dori's donor. Without him, we wouldn't have had her with us for four precious years. Go ahead, click.

Something else moved me this week. A woman I dated seriously before I met Dori shared she's running her first half marathon and will be doing so with Team in Training to benefit the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society. She'll be running for Dori. So many care. It is inspiring, even comforting, to learn what good people are planning to do.

I saw a cartoon earlier this week that hit home about the times we're in. Whatever your political bent, it will make you think and maybe move you to do more for someone who needs you. Someone you may or may not know. The world needs more charity and sacrifice, more than ever, if we're gonna get out of this mess.

The Writings of Lewis

2011-08-05T20:09:00.006-05:00

It's hard to blog these days. I don't have much time and often don't know what to say. When I do, it's not worth repeating what the kids and I have experienced that day or week. We've had some very hard days.

How often can one blog about boundless emptiness? We appreciate people consoling us. But their pity, or our seeking it, is not good for the soul.

Obviously, life is very different than it was a few months ago. No one can or ever will replace Dori. Everyone gets that. Most also get it's best just to say something sweet and consoling, listen a little, and then move on to some mundane topic. Most do. A few don't, but no need to rant right now. I've done that with a few friends, and this blog is PG-13.

We're each grieving in different ways. Rather than go into what we're specifically experiencing, I'll share some excerpts I read recently in A Grief Observed by C.S. Lewis. The book was a gift from the mother of one the kids' friends at school who lost a husband tragically years ago. It was accompanied with a very nice note about her own grieving experience. I brought it on our recent trip to Florida, and I'm glad I did.

Lewis' account of the loss of his wife to cancer is about losing and regaining bearings. In the foreword, Lewis' stepson notes "the greater the love, the greater the grief, and the stronger the faith, the more savagely will Satan storm its fortress." That seized my attention, even before reading the author.

Lewis said, "The act of living is different all through. Her absence is like the sky, spread over everything." OK, he understands.

Then more, "Who thinks there is some device ... that makes pain not pain? It doesn't really matter if you grip the arms of the dentist's chair or let your hands lie in your lap. The drill drills on."

"What grounds has [her death] given me for doubting all that I believe? I knew that these things, and worse, happened daily. ... I had been warned - I had warned myself - not to reckon on worldly happiness. We were even promised sufferings. ... The case is too plain. If my house had collapsed at one blow, that is because it was a house of cards. The faith which 'took these things into account' was not faith but imagination.

"[A person] has to be knocked silly before he comes to his senses. Only torture will bring out the truth. Only under torture does he discover himself."

That's as blunt as it gets. No candyman here. I'll share something personal now. I am still going to church, praying, all those things. But I'm not really praising God very well right now. Singing hymns is especially hard. I shared this with a friend, who said something that made sense: "God knows that, Jim. He knows you're hurting." Give yourself a break.

Back to Lewis, who a little further along in his grief, notes "bereavement is a universal and integral part of our experience of love. ... Then comes the tragic figure of the dance in which we must learn to be still taken out of ourselves though the bodily presence is withdrawn, to love the very Her, and not fall back to loving our past, or our memory, or our sorrow, or our relief from sorrow, or our own love."

Simple writing, deep thinking. I wonder if Lewis felt the first two months of grieving was more like 10 years. It does to me. I'm back at work, and school starts soon. The return of the routine has helped some. Time is the other answer, as hundreds have already shared. If that's the case, maybe someone can make it go faster.

'Nuff Said

2011-07-20T23:03:00.003-05:00

Midwest Images

2011-07-18T12:46:00.017-05:00

As promised, here are some photos from our trip to Omaha (College World Series) and to South Dakota (Badlands National Park, Black Hills and Mt. Rushmore).

'I'm in Nebraska, you're in Iowa.'

Friendly fish

Omaha zoo

Cheering the Dores

Black Hills train ride

Obligatory Rushmore shot

Badlands hiking

Badlands ladder climbing

A Month Later

2011-07-08T14:57:00.006-05:00

I miss her more than I imagined. I miss her more than words can convey.

The gaping hole in our lives is enormous. It seems to be opening, in fact, not closing. But before I talk about us, I want to talk about Dori.

Between her funeral and visitation, we think nearly 1,000 friends and family came to pay tribute. We thank everyone for the support, love and especially prayers. They provide great comfort. Most of our comfort comes from knowing she has no more pain, no more anxiety. Just joy with Him, so richly deserved.

Dori and I were able to talk about her funeral in advance. She wanted violins, so two of the best violinists in the area played beautifully. I wanted elegant, delicate flowers; the arrangements of violet, pink and white were impeccably her. The music was divine, led by the cherubic singing of Hannah, a school teacher of our children. We thank Rebecca at our church and Father Kibby for the wonderful jobs they did.

Deacon Mark Faulkner, my dear friend who knew Dori well, delivered a eulogy for the ages. I will post it at the end here, but the most poignant moment came when he left the pulpit, approached the children and me to within 15 feet, and delivered the last several minutes verbatim with no notes. He spoke of her in a way only a friend can … He knew her well and truly felt our loss, but fought through his own emotions to tell us what we needed to hear. If you were there, you were moved.

What Dori did for us – from the day I met her to the day she died – was give us the best lives ever. Her unselfish, devoted nature carried us every day. Her eulogy and her funeral captured her angelic spirit, her tremendous grace and her greatness. I miss her warm smile and her distinct laugh, which were mentioned prominently in the eulogy. But I also miss her loving, daily hugs. She fit perfectly. I miss holding her cold hands, which always refreshed my always warm hands. I miss her adorable nose freckle, her chestnut brown eyes and her sweet floral-like aroma.

I miss her wise counsel tremendously, but Dori knew what to do about that. A few weeks before she died, she created “Advice for a Happy Life: Love to Kathryn and Will,” a hardback book for the children. Combining family photos and her astute words, the book is a guiding light for our children. I read and quote it often, grateful to have her direction, encouragement and spirit with me in this way as I raise two children on my own. Some of her wise words in the book are also in the eulogy.

That night after the funeral, Vanderbilt played a super-regional opening game, the biggest baseball game probably in the school’s history. Will wanted to go, so we did, watching the Commodores win with ease. Many friends know Coach Tim Corbin has been very supportive of Dori and our family the last four years. He visited her at Vanderbilt hospital, called her in Houston, emailed and texted me from time to time, and most especially has been very supportive of Will and Kathryn.

This busy man, on probably the biggest day of his life, came to her funeral with his wife Maggie. After the win that night, he said he wanted us to be with the team in Omaha at the College World Series, if we were up for it. Before the bus left for the airport a few days later, he presented Will with an authentic baseball jersey. In Omaha, he texted to see how we were doing and to see if he could do anything else. Tim Corbin isn’t just a great baseball coach. He is one of many angels watching over my family. I love him for loving Dori the way he did, for being at her funeral with his soulmate, and for smiling at and supporting my children.

The nine-day trip to Omaha was fun, a true escape. We went to their stellar zoo, enjoyed their Strategic Air Command Museum, their vibrant Old Market, and a water park inside the hotel only 100 yards from the ballpark. Uncle Al, Will’s godfather, was with us the first five days. We cheered loudly for our team, and apparently were on ESPN many times, according to dozens of texts and voicemails from friends. That was how we honored Dori, cheering for a team she loved, a team of young role models worthy of praise and support.

After Vanderbilt was eliminated by Florida after a great run, the kids and I drove to South Dakota. We toured and hiked the Badlands National Park, observed bison herds and prairie dog towns, took a train ride through the Black Hills, scaled Harney Peak (the highest mountain between the Rockies and Alps at 7,200 feet), and visited Mt. Rushmore. Driving the Midwest was therapeutic because we were enjoying God’s creation, something Dori loved very much.

Today, we are struggling. We are home, and our house feels empty in many ways. We’re all doing forms of grief counseling. I started the weekly “Grieving Spouses” group at Gilda’s Club, something Dori wanted me to do. Dori’s sister Kathy and I are told we’ll find a “new normal” at some point. A new normal? How do you package that up and sell it? Time is supposed to help. Remembering Dori’s eternal joy is, too. All I know is things aren’t great right now. I’d be lying if I said they were.

The kids and I are having OK days and bad days. Today, we rode our bikes for more than an hour, which was good. Down time tends to be tougher time. Exercise and activity aren’t a panacea, but they help a lot. I have prepared and posted a marathon training schedule to our refrigerator. Yes, I am running another marathon. More on that later this month. I have reintroduced structure in my life, and am encouraging and doing the same for our kids.

Here’s the eulogy. I’ll post photos of the Midwest trip soon.

FUNERAL for DORI BROWN June 10, 2011
Deacon Mark Faulkner

First Reading Isaiah 40: 28-31
Second Reading Colossians 2: 1-7
Gospel Reading John 16: 19-24

The Gospel reading we just heard was marked in Dori’s Bible as one of her favorites and Jim selected it today for how it poignantly speaks to us TODAY.

Our Lord showed His disciples and He showed us that death is not the end…that grief will one day give way to joy. So many of us prayed for a miracle of healing for Dori…and it happened TWICE… actually 3 times.

Dori did not have good odds when she was diagnosed with AML 4 years ago. The progression of the disease did not look encouraging on several occasions. But with remarkable spirit and resilience and determination, supported by thousands of prayers and the wonderful caring staff at Vanderbilt ministering to her medically, she was restored to good health and became a miracle girl.

When the disease came back and she found herself in Vanderbilt again, things got especially dark and she was given VERY low odds of survival. I remember breaking down while talking to Jim outside her room on a particular Sunday as we discussed how her blood counts and GVH disease dynamics weren’t doing what they need to, and if they didn’t, she probably wouldn’t make it.

And when he next posted on Caring Bridge, it was as if a tsunami of prayers stormed heaven and for little apparent reason, her counts started rising and her situation completely and unexpectedly turned around. She was restored again to good health and became a 2-time miracle girl.

And when this awful disease came back again recently, we all prayed for another miracle…a third one…and consistent with this Gospel, our prayers were answered with the ultimate miracle…Dori was given the ultimate miracle of life…eternal health and happiness.

In November of 2007, I gave a homily on perseverance and spoke about St. John of the Cross and Dori…in his book “Dark Night of the Soul” John of the Cross talks about the dawning of new and transcendent life that comes after living through a very dark time. He reminds us that our God promises that in spite of any current darkness, if we just try to persevere, there will ALWAYS be new and greater light and life following.

And I shared this from Dori who was at the time, persevering as she continued to recover from “round one” of leukemia…….[edited]

Dori wrote: “After having been in the hospital over 2 months this summer, I have now been here again for another month…and this stay has been the most difficult physically. Heavy medications that take their toll, high fevers that saps you, Chemo induced mouth sores and a throat too sore to swallow or talk, exhaustion and pain and nausea and rashes…but…I found a nice quote from the diary of Anne Frank...

“I don't think of all the misery, but of all the beauty that still remains.”

“I wish that I could say I've been fully living according to that inspirational message these past 30 days, but it’s been so tough. I do know that I finally see a light at the end of the tunnel and that is so welcome. I can't wait to walk back into our house, to be able to tuck the kids in bed, to sit on chairs that are not vinyl! To just be home.

“After a very dark period, I do sense a light at the end of the tunnel… Thank you for your support and prayers. I didn't realize feeling good felt so good!”

Love to all of you, Dori

Dori’s sense of new life and new light was correct…that is what awaits us both in this world and in the next if we, like her, persevere, …a brighter life after hardship and the BRIGHTEST life of heaven…Dori had an even brighter outlook, a brighter appreciation…after persevering through her hardships. She laughed even more.

Kathy Robson (sister)
More than anything, Kathy loved Dori’s laugh – which was happy and healthy and beautifully hearty. Dori’s infectious laugh even stymied herself at times. When things got too funny, Dori would be laughing so hard she would go silent, and with happy tears in her eyes, would resort to pointing at the person making her laugh. When Dori’s laughter turned to tears of joy, that only made everyone laugh harder.

Kathy loved how Dori always allowed her as the younger sister to tag along with her Vanderbilt friends, like each spring break. Kathy was always welcome in Dori’s world, no questions asked… that’s a theme many others in Dori’s life would come to learn and appreciate.

Dori and Kathy loved each other in the unique way that only sisters can love, which:

• Strengthened their spirits
• Nourished their children
• Soothed and comforted their friends
• And bolstered men like Jim and Nathan (Kathy’s husband who just read the word).

Their sisterly love brightened this world, and will shine on.

Happy (mother)
Dori’s mother Happy was sweetness to Dori’s soul, she was her guiding light to the great woman she became. Happy’s reassurances and consistent love put Dori on the right path and guided her through both good times and challenging times.

Happy was always proud of Dori’s classy choices, including her pick of the perfect wedding dress that captured her elegance.

Happy is most grateful for Dori’s unwavering support for her, like the red carpet treatment on many Mother’s Days. But you could say that the loving, giving, unselfish Dori rolled out the red carpet for everyone in her life.

Happy helped nurture Dori’s love of violins, like the music that fill this holy chamber today – that love was fostered by the many trips Happy and Dori made to hear the Cincinnati Symphony perform the Nutcracker. Dori loved to hear the strings of violins speak and dance, and wanted her friends to experience that joy. Dori wanted us to hear violins today.

Rick Sawyer (Dad)
Dori’s father, Rick, has similarly vivid memories of her love of music. When Dori walked onto the stage at Princeton High School as the Princeton Orchestra's CONCERTMASTER, he knew Dori could do anything she wanted.

Rick fostered Dori’s deep appreciation of the importance of a great education. Never was he more proud than when she was accepted to Vanderbilt. Dori excelled in school and passed on that gene to Kathryn and Will. It certainly didn’t come from Jim…but he’s given them other great genes and gifts.

One of her dad’s fondest recollections was his surprise to learn how strong his diminutive daughter really was. At Kathryn’s birth, Dori’s epidural didn’t take. Dori, experiencing childbirth the way women used to, and she grabbed his hand so hard it hurt him. Dori had girl power.

And many of you know how much Dori loved the outdoors, she loved her hikes at Radnor Lake, by herself and with her family, or at Beersheba Springs with Jim. But that love of nature didn’t come easy. When Dori and Kathy were young, their dad’s navigation skills failed him on a hike in the Colorado Rockies…not a good place to get lost! And on subsequent family hikes, the sisters always were sure to less than joyfully remark, “Ohhh, here we go hiking again”.

Jim, Kathryn and Will
Dori Sawyer Brown was the devoted friend everyone wants. She loved good people all her life, and good people loved her … at Princeton High School, Vanderbilt University, SunTrust Bank, Junior League, St. Bernard Academy, and Nashville Bank & Trust. She was grace and love personified.

And Dori loved Jim’s family – Rachel, Anne and everyone – loved them like she loved her own, and they returned that love in bundles.

And more than anything, she was the loving mother every child should have. Dori took care of her family in a remarkable way. She lived the right way and taught the right values and principles, which will carry on in her remarkably beautiful children.

She taught the things we know we should do, but that sometimes need to be emphasized…

Work hard.
Love and respect yourself and others.
Cherish the outdoors.
Eat and sleep well.
Have fun, smile and laugh.
Ask someone how she is doing.
Be a good friend and you will have good friends.
Your choices have consequences.
Live within your means.
Show your outer and inner beauty.
Look people in the eye.
Be organized.
Marry someone who shares your values.
Above all, love God from whom all blessings flow.

Dori’s smile, along with her laugh, are two things many of you have said you will always remember about her. Jim has always said he married Dori because of her smile. Her friend Ramsay, who was her classmate from first grade through senior year of high school, e-mailed Dori recently and I would like to share part of that e-mail with you:

“When I met Dori, we were both beginning 1st grade. We would meet at the top of Gunny Hill and walk to school together, very much an uphill walk, and we walked all the way home together too. I remember Dori smiling and laughing every day. Through elementary school, middle and high school, as our paths went different ways, I still remember Dori smiling.

“I also remember her working hard in what looked like a very comfortable way and surrounded by people who obviously cared about her and were so attracted to her. She had that calm magnetism and gentle laugh that everyone felt. I felt it again when Erica and I had dinner with Dori a few years ago in Seattle.

“It is obvious from the posts on the CaringBridge site that you have always had this and you have touched so many. I'm sure it is a quality found in your children in the various ways that they have about them. And I imagine that it is why Jim was so attracted to you and is so devoted to you.”

Ramsay captured the essence of Dori Brown. Dori’s love had no end, just like Christ’s boundless love for us. She emulated Our Lord from her earliest years, and as her faith grew, she walked consistently and devotedly with Him every step of the way.

She carried the burden of disease with a grace and strength that has each of us in awe.

When the leukemia reared up the second time, and I pushed the button in the Vanderbilt elevator for the both dreaded and wonderful11th floor, I had a prevailing thought…and I walked into that [unfortunately] familiar room of Dori’s, I looked at her (and pardon the gutteralism) and said “this sucks”…….she said “yeahhhh, this REALLY sucks”.

The room was already adorned with the loving touches of her kids -- Will and Kathryn, your mom loved all your drawings and messages and pictures…and you know she SO loved you…and I know it doesn’t lessen the grief, but she loves you even MORE now.

She loved all the times with you and especially was cherishing this past month, just hanging out with you, life in it’s simple form, on the back patio, smelling the smells, seeing the flowers so lovingly planted by dear friends, hearing the sounds of your backyard, and just talking with you…

She loved talking to you and marveling at the great kids you are…keep doing that…keep talking to her…she will always love that…it’s hard for us to comprehend, but she is closer to you than ever before and she, in oneness with Our Lord will be with you every step of your lives.

She will be quietly, powerfully, positively praying for you and pulling for you. She is still your mom, and Our Lord and she will help guide you. As St. Paul tells us, the communion of saints and angels of heaven are a cloud of witnesses around us…everyone in heaven is a saint…and so now, for you, she is “Saint Mom”…you have your very own patron saint.

Tell her about everything going on…she wants to hear it…she wants you to know she is still a part of your lives.

As we heard Kathryn, when you were born, it was painful, but after your birth, your mom’s pain gave way to infinite joy and love (just like the Gospel tells us). As your mom was born into heaven this past Tuesday, her pain once again gave way to infinite joy and love.

Jim, over the years I have heard you say on more than one occasion that you “married up” – yep! The beautiful thing is, so did Dori. Your loving devotion to her, as reflected in your blogs and posts to Caring Bridge let us all see that Dori also chose well.

You took your vows to Dori Sawyer and gave us an example of living those vows to the depth of and the way those sacred words have their most full and profound meaning.

Jim, you truly took Dori to be your wife…you beautifully fulfilled your promise to be true to her in good times and in bad…you devotedly cared for her in sickness and in health…and with the fullness of your heart you loved her and honored her all the days of her life.

Dori graced us and so have you. Thank you.

Dori, we love you. Thanks for loving us. You were Light and Truth and Love on earth…and as the Gospel said, our tears will someday turn to joy, because in the eternal span of time, it really won’t be that long before we see you and your smile again. Amen.

Rest in Peace

2011-06-07T19:21:00.006-05:00

Dori died the way she wanted this morning, with dignity and her soul ready for final journey. Rest easy, love of my life, and enjoy the peace and eternal love you richly deserve.

Please see below's CaringBridge post for more details. Love, Jim

Hello, friends.

Dori passed away this morning at Alive Hospice. She is now with Him, forever in perfect peace.

Dori’s health changed rapidly the last three days. She felt good last week, and even was shopping Saturday with Kathryn; but she woke up Sunday morning feeling very different. We engaged hospice care in home and then moved to hospice in residence Monday afternoon. She died shortly before 9 this morning. We’re grateful she’s finally free of the suffering she’s endured on this long journey.

Dori tremendously enjoyed the last month at home with family and a few dear friends. She especially loved the serenity of our yard and time with Kathryn and Will. We ate backyard burgers and celebrated things we like doing most as a family.

Without question, Dori felt blessed with time to leave the way she wanted. Her amazing spirit inspired her to do many things we will remember forever. She had no regrets and was ready for New Life, the best life of all.

Our grief is immense, like some of you likely are experiencing. But so is Dori’s legacy. Last night, I told her I’ve never met anyone who deserves to be with Him more than her. She changed thousands of lives through her loving kindness and Christ-like spirit, which lives on in Kathryn, Will, her sister Kathy and many others. Her smile and her laugh changed this world for the better. I will deeply, deeply miss her.

We do have some family requests. We ask you to direct any planned kindness (food, flowers, gift certificates, etc.) to the charity of your choice. Dori would appreciate that, and so would I. We also would like to have the peace and quiet we need in our house these next few days and weeks. We will see many of you at the visitation and funeral and later this summer.

Dori’s obituary is below, along with some of her favorite scripture that comforted her. With His grace, may we all follow her lead, here and beyond.

Love, Jim

OBITUARY
BROWN, Dorothy (Dori) Sawyer, Age 43 of Nashville, June 7, after a determined four-year battle with leukemia. Born December 9, 1967, in Hanover, N.H.

Survived by husband Jim; daughter Kathryn; son Will; mother Gladys L. Sawyer of Cincinnati; father Richard P. Sawyer Jr. (Carol) of Gulf Breeze, FL; sister Katherine Robson (Nathan) and nephew Parker and niece Claire of Fishersville, VA; uncle Timothy M. Sawyer (Jean) of Bourne, MA; aunt Prudence W. Sawyer of Pocasset, MA; mother-in-law Rachel Blair of Nashville; sister-in-laws Anne Blair Brown (Stephen Woolverton) of Nashville and Elizabeth Light (Tim) and niece Anah of Franklin; and father-in-law James A. Brown (Peggy) of Nashville.

Dori was a light to many, a role model who followed in Christ’s footsteps. Loving, genuine, graceful and kind, Dori immersed herself into improving the lives of those around her, especially her two children, husband, family and dearest friends. She was a member of Cathedral of the Incarnation and enjoyed her roles in banking, most recently with the wonderful team at Nashville Bank & Trust. She loved to hike at Radnor Lake, walk with friends, and gave to the community in many ways. She was a graduate of Princeton High School in Cincinnati and Vanderbilt University. The family thanks the teams at Vanderbilt Ingram Cancer Center, M.D. Anderson Cancer Clinic and Alive Hospice for their care.

Visitation will be Thursday, June 9, from 6-8 p.m., and funeral services will be Friday, June 10, at 10 a.m., at Cathedral of the Incarnation, 2015 West End Ave., Nashville, 37203. In lieu of flowers, the family asks donations be made to charities of choice or the “Education Funds for Kathryn and Will Brown,” which may be mailed to Nashville Bank & Trust, 4525 Harding Road, Suite 300, Nashville, TN, 37205.

SCRIPTURE
2nd Timothy 4:7
I have fought the good fight, I have finished the course, I have kept the Faith.

Numbers 6:24:26
The Lord Bless you and keep you!
The Lord let his face shine upon you!
The Lord look upon you kindly and give you peace.

Matthew 11:28-30
Come to Me,
All of you who are weary and find life burdensome;
I will refresh you.
Take My yoke on your shoulders and learn from Me,
For I am gentle and humble of Heart.
You shall find rest because My yoke is easy and My burden is light.

Isaiah 40:31
But those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. The will soar on wings like eagles.

Proverbs 3:5
Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your understanding.

1 Peter 5:7
Let Him have all your worries and cares, for He is always thinking about and watching everything that concerns you.

Colossians 2:6
And now just as you trusted Christ to save you, trust Him, too, for each day’s problems: live in vital union with Him.

Isaiah 43
Fear not, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name, you are mine. When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you. For I am the Lord your God, the Holy One of Israel, your Savior.

Jeremiah 29:11
“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.”

'What Can We Do?'

2011-06-04T14:25:00.006-05:00

Many times each week, we're asked, "What can we do to help?" Folks feel helpless. We get it.

But there is much you can do. Many already have, not only with random acts of kindness to our family but also by supporting the efforts we believe are making a difference. You can always look to the left under Links, but here they are:

Join the Be the Match Registry.
Hundreds of friends and family have already signed up. This is a great way to help someone facing blood cancer, potentially saving a life.

Donate to the Kanzius Cancer Research Foundation.
60 Minutes continues to report about this cutting-edge effort to wipe out cancer. We're optimistic KCRF is on to something special to kill many kinds of cancer cells. You can help these folks, too.

Contribute to Team in Training.
Dori and I support the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society's mission, and some of our friends continue to run for people like Dori. Our friend and my running buddy Jim Asker is a lymphoma survivor and marathoner. You can help his current fundraising effort as he prepares for the Dublin Marathon, or help our friend Patricia Jempty, a leukemia survivor whose humor, candor and vigor have inspired us. She's running for Dori in the NYC Marathon.

Gilda's Club helps families dealing with cancer.
Even though she didn't get to complete her half marathon this spring, Dori trained hard and was the top fundraiser for this great support group. We continue to support their efforts and hope many of you will, too.

That's just four for you to consider. If you make a contribution somewhere, let us know with an e-mail or comment. The support we've experienced has been a big part of this very difficult journey. We're grateful, but the ones yet to face this terrible situation will be, too.

Processing Fraud

2011-06-01T09:34:00.004-05:00

Am I becoming a recluse? I'm not up for answering all the calls from the dear people who call, text and e-mail. I hope they understand that I get to these when I can. Some days, it takes awhile.

Dori is enjoying being home, though the heat wave has kept her indoors lately. It's not even summer, but feels like early August. The invasion of the 13-year cicada is in full force. My running was good last week when it was cool ... about 24 miles. This week, I've only run four so far. The kids are out of school. Kathryn is diving, while Will is playing tennis. Both are playing summer basketball.

Dori spent seven draining hours at the clinic last Friday getting red blood and platelets. Remarkably, she didn't need any blood products today. Any time away from the hospital is good. She is eating well, playing board games with the kids and mostly having good days. A few have been rough, but we'll take what we're getting right now for as long as we can.

I finally watched the Lance Armstrong story on 60 Minutes. Dori and I identified with him, obviously through his cancer journey. We read his books, and I followed his cycling career very closely, with admiration. But that view has been shattered with the undeniable proof that continues to emerge. Lance cheated, and so did his teammates and most of his competitors. He might go to prison. It's the same with college football: USC, Ohio State and others. So many cheat or break the rules, and the governing bodies turn their heads or only address serious problems when they're about to be exposed.

It has me searching for achievement with integrity, something that seems to be waning in our "right now for me" culture. Dori is disappointed, as well, but we'll use it as a lesson for our children. Always do things the right way, with integrity and honor. Play like a champion, and lose like one, too, with your head held high that you did your best and you did it honestly.

Not That Question, Please

2011-05-26T18:42:00.007-05:00

Dori is enjoying time at home, on her comforting couch and on our panoramic deck that overlooks our tranquil yard. Some of our dear friends planted some beautiful flowers and plants recently. She loves them, as do I. She believes she feels better than when we returned to Nashville 18 days ago. The comforts of home contrast with hospital gloom.

My beautiful wife, and she is beautiful, has been going to the hospital twice a week for transfusions. Home health has also come by twice weekly to take blood, change dressings on her PICC line and check in. Dear friends, people who Dori loves like a brother or sister, have stopped by. But she doesn't have much energy for long visits, so I play good cop.

When I say Dori is beautiful, I mean it in every way. Cancer has not diminished her physical beauty. She's the best-looking cancer patient I've ever seen. Her delicate features, her warm eyes and the smile I married are as precious as ever. Her friend Ramsay e-mailed recently about her smile. I don't know Ramsay well but had to tell her that's why Dori caught me eye. I've never seen a better smile than Dori's.

I've been keeping a close eye on the kids and planning things no parent should ever have to plan. We're all hurting, expressing it in different ways. My emotions are touching the full spectrum. Some days I feel like talking; other days I don't want to see a soul.

What I can tell you is what our perceptive son shared last week. Will doesn't like the question, "How are you doing?" I don't either. I know people are asking with good intentions and empathy, but unless you've been where we are at the moment, it's not a fun one, especially if you're honest. I tell almost everyone, "I'm OK." But my closest friends know I'm lousy. I get it, sweet Will. You're always on it.

Rather than asking that question, some who have been through what we're experiencing know what to say: "I'm sorry about Dori, and we're keeping you in our prayers." They make sweet statements, rather than pose the question whose honest answer is only what it is.

Dori is amazing me, and others, through this. She's touching us in ways that will last forever. Maybe I'll blog about that later, but right now, I don't want to. Getting this out took heavy lifting, but I'm glad I finally did.

Jeremiah 29:11

2011-05-13T12:14:00.005-05:00

Most of you know the bad news. The chemo in Houston didn't work, and Dori won't be able to transplant. We're completely devastated. We're told her time with us is limited to weeks, maybe a month.

I'm not in a blogging mood, but thought I would share something that Kathryn and I discussed last night. I don't pretend to understand why all this is happening, but I told her I'm confident there is a reason. I encouraged her to read a previous post, "Why Does Bad Happen?" for my view.

You may recall I've blogged about Jeremiah 29:11 a few times, most recently in February when Dori accidentally broke the plate with that scripture. At the time, I was frustrated having to spend a weekend gluing piece by piece, before remounting the plate on the wall. I realize now I hadn't really looked at that scripture in some time, but that undertaking was cold water on my face.

My friend Ron shared the scripture again on CaringBridge. I pray our children find meaning and peace in these words, and Dori and me too, as we deal with such tremendous pain and pending loss. One of Dori's favorites, it's worth repeating.

"For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future."

Build Up

2011-05-03T16:41:00.002-05:00

Amazing Dori did great today. Her port, believed to be the culprit of a staph infection, has been removed, and another biopsy is done. We’ll know preliminary results, probably within 24 hours. Man, we want us some good biopsy results so she can transplant. We’ll also need the infection to be gone soon. Dori’s fever is lower and her blood pressure has improved.

It’s been a whirlwind day and frenetic last week. I’ll start with the latter. Last week was tough, bordering on awful. Managing family emotions, while managing your own, can be nightmarish once in awhile. I snapped at someone I love dearly and had to apologize for not being my best. We’ve both had a heart to heart and are stronger, not weaker, after the snafu. I’m sorry, two powerful words.

For much of last week and some of this one, I’ve felt like I’ve been trapped. I have no control over so much. My glass-half full approach kept getting poured empty by events, even by people I love. I experienced rejection and other things that hopped out of Pandora’s Box. Wish I could shut that thing sometimes.

But I’ve also experienced some of the best times in my life recently. Kathryn, Will and I left Nashville Friday, spent the night in Meridian, MS, and drove to Houston Saturday. We had a grand time Friday at dinner, laughed in the car and had a great reunion with Dori. Will hadn’t seen Dori in almost a month. The evident bond they share moved us all.

Today has been many things. This morning, I woke at 5:15 to run. As I was leaving the apartment we’re renting, my Blackberry alerted me to an email. Dori was reporting improvements (lower fever, etc.). Energized, I ran through neighborhoods, around the campus of Rice University to home. The weather was un-Houston-like, cool and not humid. The 6.5-miler was a breeze. I woke the kids, made them some pancakes with fresh fruit and drove them to the airport to fly back to Nashville. They’re safe and sound.

All was calm until I saw the plane taking off. I kept it together barely, got in the car and lost it. My love and concern for them, combined with the fact that Dori was enduring so much today, hit me. It’s alright to cry, cause Rosie Greer told me on Sesame Street a long time ago.

I drove to the hospital and found Dori in great spirits. She saw how weepy I still was, and told me she’s going to get through this. They took her to do the procedures, I ate lunch, and then consulted with the stem cell transplant doctor about details the next few days. Dori came back to her room around 3:30, and she’s about to eat for the first time in nearly 24 hours. She’s looking well.

For now, we’re on obvious pins and needles. I’m glad today went the way it did. I hope and pray tomorrow does, too.

Why Does Bad Happen?

2011-04-28T16:04:00.004-05:00

Dori is not feeling well again. She's in the emergency room in Texas with her sister, and I'm sitting here in our comfortable living room in Tennessee. Can you tell I'm Catholic?

This morning, she spiked a fever and emptied her stomach. She is very tired, but doesn't appear to have any other symptoms. If you're wondering if this ever gets old, sure it does, but we're not going to give in. We have too many chips on the table, and we're damned good at poker.

The kids and I will soon head for Texas, and family will watch over our dog and house. I take a lot of comfort knowing Dori is with her sister, who I love dearly and trust completely. But the separation right now hurts. The last two days in Tennessee have been better for the kids, but very difficult for me.

Yesterday evening, Kathryn showed me what all of this is about. The first few years she played basketball, she struggled. Dori and I thought she would play for awhile and move on to other activities. The next few years, when Dori was first diagnosed and battling leukemia, Kathryn started playing with toughness. This past year, she's worked at improving her skills and started setting goals. She loves the game.

Last night, she practiced with some of the better area players on a summer team, holding her own, scoring baskets and ripping rebounds. I'm happy for her, because it's teaching her what it takes to do well. She appreciates practice, has a great attitude and willingness to learn, and embraces the team concept. Dori loved it when I told her last night.

Tuesday afternoon on the way home from Texas, Kathryn and I stopped in Tuscaloosa. Today, we learned about the unbelievably terrible tornado that claimed many lives in that college town. Blink, like that, and many are gone. As much as we have on our plate, I can't stop thinking about the families who are dealing with tragedy. I've also read several online arguments questioning the existence of God.

Like many, I believe such events happen for a good reason. Not that they're good, but for a good reason. We are not in charge, no matter how much we want to be or think we are. A long time ago, I abandoned my belief everyone should live long, healthy lives and retire in comfort. So few do, though some suggest otherwise. Our culture screams "now," while our faith quietly but assertively says "forever."

Everyone's shot clock is different, but we all know we're on the clock. I will always believe that God wants to know whether we are with Him, or not. I'm with Him because the hope and love I have on this earth goes well beyond the here and now.

That's how I deal with cancer.

Another Hurdle

2011-04-23T09:43:00.005-05:00

Yesterday afternoon, Dori's temperature spiked quickly and she started feeling weaker. When it neared 101, we headed to the emergency room. Dori's stomach began to bother her. She had a rough evening, but antibiotics checked her fever, which the doctor believes was neutropenic-related due to zero immunity from the recent chemo.

Kathryn and I stayed with Dori until a room opened on the leukemia treatment floor, about six hours after we arrived. We didn't leave Dori until I met the night nurse and went through her history of falls and recent condition. Kathryn and I made it back to the apartment well after midnight. We slept well, spoke to some family this morning and will head to the hospital around lunchtime.

Kathryn has been remarkably calm, positive and reassuring. We are proud of her in many ways. Last night, she stayed busy on her laptop, as did I, taking in some sports (Vanderbilt baseball and Predators hockey). It helped make the visit seem shorter.

Dori and I know from experience hospital visits like this are to be expected. Patience, flexibility and determination are important. As much as things can seem to be speeding up, we have to stay in the moment and stay positive. Cussing is allowed, in moderation and for entertainment purposes only.

Hopefully, Dori can check out of the hospital in two days. They're looking over cultures, but I suspect they caught the little bug that thought it could sneak by her.

We have a playbook and follow it. Most of our plays work, and the ones that don't get scrapped. If we need to audible, we will.

Let Me Be Me

2011-04-21T09:51:00.006-05:00

I have a family member who often, and I mean often, asks me when I'm going to stop running long distances, among several annoying questions. I find the prodding bothersome, because it is persistent, consistent and insistent.

I thought about this twice recently, once when I was pressed again in person and again when I received an email from Active.com extolling the virtues of hitting the road. Read for yourself, "10 Reasons Running Is Good For You."

If those reasons aren't good enough, here are a few more. I don't know where I'd be if I hadn't been running and training for the many half marathons and one marathon I've run since 2006. Consider:

- The positive energy expended dealing with an avalanche of negative cancer energy.

- The rewarding process of setting and reaching a goal. Accomplishments that require work and discipline filter positively into all areas of life.

- The example for our children. Life goes on, no matter awful things are or seem.

- The money raised for cancer research and related philanthropies, which will benefit others like us down the road.

- Addressing doubts and fears. One can work out a lot during a one-hour run. Running requires physical effort, but moves the spirit and bolsters resolve.

I could go on, but why bother? The benefits far, far outweigh the risks. See comments for the greatest reason of all.

Too often, we look at a loved one's choices through our own eyes, not his or hers. While we may mean well by sharing our own fears or concerns, we can actually harm the relationship. We walk a fine line between selfless love and controlling love.

Tuesday morning, I left the apartment at 5:30 and ran five miles. In high humidity, I felt the toxins leaving my body during a heavy sweat. Yesterday, Kathryn and I worked out in the fitness gym on six separate machines and did sit-ups. We felt great this morning, a good sore near areas that needed work.

Flexibilty

2011-04-19T17:23:00.004-05:00

Kathryn and I had an uneventful 12-hour ride to Houston yesterday, arriving around dinner time. We drove straight to the hospital, saw Dori, checked into our apartment, had a nice dinner, and shopped for groceries. By 10 p.m., I was waxed, but strangely not ready for bed, so I watched the last 30 minutes of a Star Trek episode. So not me, but I enjoyed the unusual wind-down.

A few hours before our arrival yesterday, our cyber-friends Ann and her husband Chris met Dori. Ann is an ALL survivor who talks straight and has an indomitable spirit. She's a survivor who is remarkably beautiful on the inside and outside. Chris is a compassionate man who has been through the wars, just like us.

I spoke to them on the phone for the first time yesterday, but Dori had the pleasure of meeting them in person. "I love them," she said today. After reading Ann's recount of their visit, you'll see why. Foxhole love is like family love.

Kathryn is doing well, really well in fact. She is talkative, curious, and wanting to help. She loves her mother, just like Will. He's already missing us, which I expected. The separation and uncertainty is hard for adults, let alone young people. They deserve so much better than the crap casserole that's been served. We're monitoring that situation from 800 miles away, but I have faith all will be well.

Dori is more "in the moment," now that chemo has been administered. She finished her fifth treatment last night, and we retrieved our girl after lunch today. She was tired and hungry, so I fetched her a Five Guys burger, which she devoured. Her weight is good, and most counts are hanging in there for the moment. Only platelets are low, so she may need a transfusion. We have clinic visits tomorrow and Friday, then we celebrate Easter.

Her emotions have been varied the last few weeks. She's more focused now, with a slight to medium boil. I think I'd be on full boil, but clearly she's entitled to any and every emotion. My reminders are and will continue to be about focusing on what you can control, which is giving blood cancer the finger and not giving in one inch. She's good at it, but the pep band takes requests.

Kathryn and I talked yesterday about the day-to-day nature of our lives. She called me "The Planner," a term this naval officer will accept with appreciation. I responded by saying in times like now, there isn't much planning. We simply must be flexible and just do. She agreed and understood.

My mission is my wife, with other related missions embedded.

Coach K

2011-04-17T15:49:00.007-05:00

The latest on Dori is posted on CaringBridge. As our friend Al said this morning after church, it's the Battle of Bull Run, Part Three, for our family. Instead we're waging war in Houston, not at Manassas.

Last night, I took the kids to hear Duke Basketball Coach Mike Krzyzewski, who spoke at Lipscomb University to a dinner group of 350 and then again to 3,500. I briefly considered not going, as I have plenty to do before driving to Houston tomorrow with Kathryn. But the kids were excited, which made me excited. Dori's mother is a Duke grad, too, and I knew she'd love to hear what he said, which I shared with her this morning. It was a great call.

I'll never forget Coach K's discussion about dealing with adversity or tragedy. Upon learning of sickness or other bad news, he said the normal reaction for nearly everyone is to exasperate and fret, often saying or thinking, "I can't believe this is happening to me." He hunched over for effect, and repeated the phrase.

These moments are what makes us decide to be great or to be ordinary, he said. Our children heard the best basketball coach of our time explain how coping with difficulty is when we earn our reputation, but more importantly demonstrate our character. My favorite athlete is golfer Jack Nicklaus, not because of his 20 major championships but because of how he conducted himself after losing.

Coach K later repeated the phrase, "I can't believe this is happening to me," but this time with optimism and with his shoulders back and head up. That's how you win four national championships. Here are some quotes from a man I will always admire and respect.

And here is a photo of the two children we love very much, before last night's event. Many of you have asked how they are doing through all this. I see shoulders back and heads up. Fear is around us, but fear can kiss our asses.

By the way, Will found a four-leaf clover in our yard this afternoon and asked me to take it to Houston. No problem, young man.

'No Surrender'

2011-04-10T09:15:00.004-05:00

We've begun Day 4 in Houston, but it seems like we left Nashville weeks ago.

Dori has a bit of the cabin fever, so she's walking on the treadmill in the hotel's exercise room. I ran about four miles in the midday heat yesterday and five miles early this morning. We're near Reliant Stadium, so there is little greenery. The entire landscape is asphalt jungle. I miss Radnor Lake and Percy Warner Park, two of Nashville's gems.

The separation is beginning to wear on everyone. I remember the feeling of loneliness on seven-month cruises in the Navy and not seeing land for 60 days. Today's feelings are similar. The naval commitment was my choice, however; as a single man, I had no family obligations. I knew what I was getting into when I became directly subservient to Uncle Sam. Now, we're making choices that are best for Dori, and that's the way it will continue to be (and the way I want it).

While watching the Vanderbilt baseball game online yesterday, Dori said, "I know you would rather be at the ballgame than here in Houston." I said, "No, that's not true. I want to be here because we need to be with these doctors." She persisted, but so did I. I meant every word.

The shock of the relapse news has abated. Some friends have e-mailed me with words like "keep fighting" and "no surrender." I think Dori has received similar encouragement. I sense Dori is getting her game face on. Mine already is. One thing I've refrained from doing the last four years is having a pity party. Pissed-off parties are fine, in moderation; I'm a fan of steam whistling.

That's the approach, as we prepare to talk to the brightest minds in medicine this week. That, and a whole lot of prayer.

New Semester

2011-04-08T21:18:00.008-05:00

I updated CaringBridge late today while Dori was napping in a Houston hotel. Yes, we're in Houston, if you'd like to click the link.

It is true what they say about Texas. Everything is big. The Texas Medical Center, which includes the M.D. Anderson Cancer Center, is massive. TMC, which employs 82,000 people on a 1,000-acre campus, is the largest hospital in the world. So far, it appears to be well run, too. Day One at MDA was long, but went smoothly.

Dori read my CaringBridge post and thanked me for being honest. I've tended to leave out less positive moments on CB, using the medium instead to update Dori's status and to encourage prayer and support. She's been hurting this week, like the rest of us, and we miss our kids very much. The last 10 days have been emotional and exhausting, a real whirlwind. Telling the kids the bad news on Saturday morning ... well, it doesn't get much crappier.

I love my job, but last week was difficult. We've all been there - enduring the pettiness, dishonesty and misrepresentation of others isn't fun, even when one isn't trying to hold his family together or deal with a devastating relapse. I'll be able to work remotely next week, but won't miss being "on the job" for a few days.

Earlier this week, I ran twice, about seven miles total. A four-miler yesterday was a good stress relief. Last Sunday, the kids and I hiked five hilly miles in Percy Warner Park, with Pepper on point. Dori and I have some time this weekend. My sister gave me a good book, Autobiography of Mark Twain, which is helping stir the mind, evoke some chuckles and pass the time. We'll probably see a movie, and I'll likely run in the Texas heat and watch the Masters. I'll also keep Dori at the dinner table. She ate very well today.

I'm not sleeping well, I'm hurting for my family, and disappointed some people can be so boorish. But I have faith in God's will and know we can endure by staying true to His lesson plan. Some semesters are easier than others. This one is off to a tough, tough start. But good grades are possible and desirable. It's just a test.

Relapse

2011-04-03T09:37:00.002-05:00

We learned on Friday that Dori's leukemia has returned. We've posted the following on her CaringBridge site:

"These words are hard to say and will be hard to read … Dori’s cancer has returned. We are all reeling, deflated and in shock.

Last month, Dori’s donor DNA was 99.67%, below the 100% you always like to see. In recent weeks when climbing stairs, Dori has been short of breath. A blood test Wednesday showed low platelets and other dropping counts. Dori had a bone marrow biopsy Thursday morning, and the doctors saw “suspicious cells.”

Friday afternoon at 3, Dr. Jagasia called me with the bad news … her leukemia had relapsed. Dori was on the road, travelling to Cincinnati to see her mother. I broke the news as she crossed into Ohio. We agreed to let the dust settle, to wait for the doctors to make a recommendation, and to tell our family and friends today. We’ve all had good cries, and will have more.

We have a lot to ponder, obviously. I have witnessed miracles, none greater than watching Dori survive last summer. I have never seen such courage and resolve in the face of seemingly insurmountable adversity. I believe, like most of you, that prayer had a huge role in her miracle.

Many of you will ask us what you can do in the coming weeks. Nothing is greater than the firepower of prayer. We would be grateful for every one you can say for Dori. No one I know deserves them more. She is my role model and has touched so many lives in so many positive ways. We live among greatness.

On the way to her Thursday biopsy, Dori said she wished for the days when we were simply “nicely irritated with each other” rather than cherishing every moment since her 2007 diagnosis. I agreed but said that may be the gift we’ve been given, to see life unlike most.

Yesterday, I asked Will, our smart son, “What are we going to do?” He said, “We pray,” later adding, “I wish God would take me instead of Mom.” Interestingly, that is the scripture I read at Mass last Sunday (Rom 5: 1-2, 5-8). We love Will and our wonderful daughter, Kathryn, who don’t deserve any of this.

Please join us in prayer. We love you all and are grateful for each of you."

Jim

Another Tom King

2011-03-13T07:52:00.004-05:00

While Dori was training for her upcoming half marathon yesterday morning, I ran the Tom King Half Marathon.

I almost didn't run, since my step aunt passed away a few days ago. I wanted to be with my mom, who was close to her, at yesterday's funeral. Mom and Anne told me I should run, so I joined Mom at Friday evening's visitation, while Anne accompanied Mom to the funeral.

At the start line, I saw a running buddy, Jack, who is very good friends with Jim, the lymphoma survivor I've mentioned before. Jack and Jim are running the Dublin, Ireland marathon later this year. I had planned to run easy at the start, a 10:30/mile pace the first six miles, so I could negative split. But we ran 9:50s the first four miles. With my lack of serious training, I knew I would pay later.

Under bright sunny skies and with a brisk southerly wind, the course warmed quickly. Too warm for me in fact. Jack pressed forward as I dropped my pace slightly. Before the 10K turnaround, I saw friends Joel, who coaches our kids in cross country, and Donna, whose husband is my best friend from high school. Both ran stellar times.

I felt fine through eight miles, a litle winded at 9 and tired at 10. I took a two-minute bathroom break and rehydrated, then pressed on at a slower pace. Since I had no goal except a respectable finish, I didn't wig. I felt anything between 2:15 and 2:20 would be acceptable. Heck, I ate french fries and fried green beans Wednesday at lunch. See what I mean when I said I didn't train hard?

At Miles 11 and 12, the latter of which had a water station, I walked very briefly. At the end, I felt good enough to kick the last quarter mile, finishing in 2:19. My Garmin said I ran 13.3 miles, a 10:29 pace. The race was a reminder of how respectable 13.1 is and how awesome it is to complete 26.2.

Will and I went to the Predators hockey game last night, and hot chicken and beer never tasted so good. We arrived home at 10, and it took me no more than five minutes to fall asleep. A day well spent.

Beautiful Getaway

2011-03-08T18:37:00.006-06:00

Dori and I spent last weekend in Walland at the elegant and comforting Blackberry Farm, nestled in the foothills of the Smoky Mountains. The resort is way out of our price range, but fortunately two dear friends gifted the weekend to us. TG and MBG, you guys are amazing to share that farm with us! You can probably tell Dori had a grand time from the photo.

The getaway couldn't have come at a better time. We needed a break and time to be a couple. Not a parent or an employee, but a couple. No phones, computers, or complaints. Just the two of us, talking, listening and smiling.

The dinners were beyond fabulous. We've never had better service in our lives. Dori had a world-class facial and pedicure. I caught 10 rainbow trout, including a stout 22-incher, and hiked the steepest mountain I've ever scaled. My heartbeat was racing on the arduous ascent, but descending was the greatest challenge. For about 300 yards, I had to take two steps and catch a tree to avoid falling down the mountain. My feet burned, but I loved the thrill and challenge.

Dori asked me the highlight of the weekend, and honestly, riding in our golf cart (they take away your car) to dinner at their elegant barn was a great memory. The best part was being with my wife, a survivor. Last summer was a horrible nightmare. I prefer the other side of this dream.

I hope these photos capture the beauty and tranquility of this East Tennessee property. God is indeed good.

When Bad Is Good

2011-02-27T09:37:00.005-06:00

Dori walked seven miles yesterday with her friend Renee. She's continuing her Saturday morning half-marathon training for Gilda's Club, and thanks to many of you, is the number three fundraiser out of 100-plus teammates. Dori and Renee said they realized yesterday that seven miles really is a respectable distance, wondering how some folks even run that far.

I was wondering the same thing at the seven-mile mark of my 11-mile run yesterday. I struggled almost the whole run, even though conditions were good - sunny and 45-50 degrees. Part of it was lack of sleep the night before and stress ... work and home activities are as busy as they've ever been. Finding time to relax and recharge right now is difficult, though Dori and I are planning a get-away.

I think that's why I'm taking the positive approach about yesterday's underperformance. I walked briefly at Mile 10 up a steep hill, then finished the run. It took me two hours to run 11 miles, which is slow for me. But I finished realizing I had managed to run 11 miles. That's a long way.

Am I ready to run a good half marathon in two weeks? Probably not, but I'm going to run it, unless the weather is awful. As hard as the last month has been, training has helped me. I'm not running for accomplishment these days. Running is helping me chase away anxiety, stress and negativity. That's what my next race is about.

Will and I did manage to enjoy some college baseball yesterday afternoon, watching Vanderbilt rally to beat Stanford 8-7. We love being together at the ballpark. We're heading over there again, weather permitting, and then I'll work tonight in preparation for a busy week.

Last night, we joined Anne and her husband for some fine food Mom prepared from Emeril Lagasse's Farm to Fork cookbook - bay, thyme and rosemary roasted potatoes with smoked paprika, roasted brussel sprouts with garlic, lemon zest and fresh parm-reggiano, tuscan kale with white beans and tomatoes, a tender chicken with zucchini and carrots that melted in our mouths, and grilled French bread. I sipped on a Spanish rose and then a French red from the Ventoux region, good paring choices.

It took me three breaths and two winks to fall asleep last night. It's easy to be grateful for days like yesterday.

Out of the Gates

2011-02-24T19:04:00.003-06:00

Dori and I are talking about money, so I'd rather blog about something else. She did laugh, when I just read that to her. Dori reminded me our daughter is going to college in five years, as we're planning a summer vacation. I want to spend a couple of hundred extra dollars for a nicer cabin, but I think I'm going to lose. Maybe I'll remember this moment when we stroke a check to Vanderbilt or Stanford in 2016.

So let's talk about winning. Dori has raised more than $2,000 in her first serious week of fundraising for Gilda's Club for her half marathon. She scoffed when I suggested her initial $750 goal was too low. I thought, "Man, if I wasn't your husband and knew you otherwise, I'd stroke a $100 check pronto, knowing what you've been through and what you're now doing."

I like the bar high. Especially for great causes like Gilda's. They do a great job helping families deal with cancer's devastating effects. We should know, and do. Here's the link again, if you're so inclined.

Work is crazy busy, but fun right now. The challenge is maintaining balance and coping with stress. I've only run once this week so far, a five miler at 5 a.m. with Pepper. It was cool and quiet, and we watched a stunning red-orange-pink sunrise. I think even Pepper knew it was special.

To run a half in two weeks, I'll need to run a really long one Saturday. I might do 12 or 14 miles, depending on the mood.

Dori's Walk

2011-02-19T18:52:00.002-06:00

My girl posted a little message on CaringBridge tonight. She would appreciate any support!

Hello dear friends!

I’m continuing to recover and improve from last summer’s relapse. I’m enjoying work again, appreciating my family and daily routine, and making physical strides, so much so that I’m planning to walk a half marathon.

After getting a “go for it” from my doctor, I decided to begin training to walk the Music City Half Marathon April 30. I am training with Gilda’s Club and fundraising for them. Founded by Gilda Radner, Gilda’s Club provides support and resources to those affected by cancer. Nashville is one of 21 cities that are fortunate to have this phenomenal organization.

I have read many stories of cancer survivors that partake in marathons and half marathons. Why is this common amongst survivors? I have been mulling over that question and asking myself why I’m doing this. These are some of my reasons:

~ I am no longer attached to an IV pole and restricted to where I can walk.
~ My leg muscles are coming back after being assaulted by steroids. I remember when I returned home this past August and it was a feat to walk on the treadmill for a mere five minutes.
~ I am honoring my special friends who have travelled this journey with me, such as Chuck and Sarah, who are cheering for me from heaven.
~ I absolutely love Gilda’s Club. All of its services are free, which is extremely helpful to those of us who receive a new medical bill every week or so. The programs are top-notch and worthwhile; my entire family has benefited from our time spent there.
~ I am hoping that by raising funds for Gilda’s Club, the dollars help some family that gets blindsided by cancer this year.

If you would like to donate any amount of money to this fabulous organization, please click on the following link:

http://www.firstgiving.com/gildas-gang-2011-16fee1

Thank you for the support that you have given me!

Love, Dori

Prioritizing

2011-02-19T10:02:00.003-06:00

Parents are the teachers of children, but sometimes we learn as much, if not more, from our children.

My life seems to go very well, even during chaotic times, if I keep my priorities straight - God-Family-Job-Eveything Else. If I jumble them, I seem to wander, even struggle. I recall how my teenage years were like wandering through wilderness and wasteland.

I'm watching it all unfold before my eyes again. It's not only a teaching moment for the pupil, but also a strong reminder for the teacher.

I have shared some very personal moments with my loved ones, even telling them I've been afraid at times. But unlike my earlier years, I know what to do, or at least what I'm supposed to do.

I've shared that as much as I love my wife, loving God is more important. I've shared my belief I must acknowledge, thank and seek comfort from God's grace and peace as often as possible. And I know I can do it better than I am. There's always room for improvement.

Now is always the time to make good things happen. There may be no "later."

On the Road Again

2011-02-13T08:18:00.004-06:00

Running this week went well. After last Sunday's five-miler, I ran three early Wednesday and five late Thursday, much of it on icy roads with Pepper. We took our time on slick spots.

With a half marathon on next month's calendar, I decided it was time for a long run, 10 miles. I need about three of these to be able to complete 13.1 respectably. Yesterday's weather was perfect, high 30s and a slight breeze. The first 3.5 went well. I stretched, hydrated and ran another 3, before repeating break activities and taking an energy gel. Paced by iPod selections, I continued to feel good, almost like I've been training seriously, which I haven't been.

At nine miles, I reached a steep hill that gradually abates over a half mile. I took it slow, coming off my 10-minute pace. I wobbled home, realizing 13.1 is going to be the challenge it almost always is. But 23 miles this week is a good effort, and this week's weather is supposed to be great.

Dori walked five miles yesterday. She is making tremendous progress now. Her hair is getting thicker, and her early morning vibrancy and improved stamina are daily gifts. She went to the Vanderbilt-Kentucky game yesterday with her good friend Liz (good guys won 81-77), and then joined me at the school gym for back-to-back games.

Kathryn's game was noteworthy in that her group almost upset the first place team by playing tenacious defense. They lost by four, but are getting more competitive each week. With some improved scoring and better ball-handling against the press, her team, which was getting run off the floor in early December, could surprise a good team in the upcoming tournament. We're proud of her toughness and scrap, and her desire to learn and get better.

Here's a photo from last week's Super Bowl party at our church. I told you she looks great! That plate of BBQ will not be on the training table the next few weeks.

Repair Job

2011-02-06T13:41:00.005-06:00

One of the more popular verses in scripture, especially around hospitals, is Jeremiah 29:11. "For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future."

Several times the last few years, Dori came across this verse randomly. John, our good friend from Ohio, loves the verse; a few years ago, he sent Dori a colorful plate with the words inscribed. She liked the gift very much and hung it on our kitchen wall. It's been there since, until a few days ago when Dori, a bit groggy from a week's worth of vidaza treatments, clipped the plate as she was putting on her robe. I heard it crash and break.

I'm generally not superstitious, but tossing the shattered plate wasn't an option. This weekend, I've been working patiently with Gorilla Glue to assemble the broken pieces. It isn't going to fit perfectly, but it will be on our wall again soon, an important symbol of hopeful words that have helped carry Dori this far. She thanked me this morning, recognizing the meaning of what I was doing.

Like the plate, we've been slowly reassembling the pieces of our lives. We will never be the same, but in many ways, better. Just like the plate. It may not look like something you'd buy now in a store. But it's our plate, and we love it where it is.

I played Friday in the annual parent-student basketball game at our kids' school. It's an event I enjoy very much, especially with Kathryn now old enough to play for the girls' team. She played well against the moms. This was the first year the 7th-8th grade boys' team gave the dads a game. We had to work to hang with them, with mixed results in two quarters of play.

My lack of conditioning showed toward the end of play. Early on, I scored three baskets and pulled some rebounds, but at the end of the last quarter threw up an airball and dropped a pass for an easy lay-up. My legs felt like rubber when I tried to set my feet.

Kathryn came up to me after the game, and said, "Daddy!" I knew what she was saying. "What was that?" I encouraged her to remember the earlier plays, but knew she wouldn't. Thankfully, I recovered enough to run five miles this morning. At age 45, I accept I'm not what I used to be on a basketball court, but I'm in good enough shape to enjoy this time in my life, which is important to me.

Quotes of the Week

2011-02-03T06:00:00.003-06:00

Dori made two statements last weekend that have remained in my mind.

"Oh. yes I do." - Dori's response to a statement by an arthritic old lady, once she was out of earshot, who said we didn't want to become old like her.

"I love a lot of people." - Her response to my statement: "A lot of people love you." She said this after we left a wine tasting, where Dori was a big hit at a very fun gathering of friends we hadn't seen in a spell.

Dori's vidaza treatments are going fine. She will receive more today and tomorrow, and then one more round in three weeks. She's a little tired but side effects are minimal.

Date Night

2011-01-29T12:20:00.004-06:00

Dori is feeling much better and learned yesterday she's still 100% donor DNA. She trained this morning for her upcoming half marathon, walking in unseasonably warm weather. It may top 60 today. She'll receive the Vidaza treatments next Monday through Friday, one week after they were scheduled.

I'm in between kids' basketball games, and may actually ride the bike after a five-miler with Pepper late yesterday. I didn't run Monday through Thursday, still lethargic from "the crud." Last night's run was worth the wait and couldn't have been more timely. I had a rough week.

I'm realize I'm not going to be appreciated much the next few years. I remember how much of a pain I was from age 13 to 16. I thought the world owed me something. No one around me was perfect, certainly, but my approach didn't make things better. I took awhile to mature, 15 years frankly to cover all bases.

I'm learning what it's like to be on the other side of this. It's hard, doesn't seem rewarding, and sometimes leads to frustration. Part of it is emerging from a challenging three years of dealing with cancer. More of it, however, is just being a parent dealing with our childrens' transition from adolescence to [fill in unflattering Noun of the Day here].

I needed to vent, and did earlier this week. I may have said a few words I shouldn't have, but I did get some things on the table. I was honest, raw and emotional. I think it helped, but it isn't something I want to do again soon. Nor does my family. But it came to a point where I had to make things clear - I'm not just a dad trying to provide but a person with feelings.

One pounding thought all week was, "When do I get time for just me?" The constant feeling of having to be somewhere in 15 minutes can be taxing, especially if I don't get to run or do something different every so often.

The good news? Dori and I have a date night tonight and the house to ourselves. I'm feeling mighty fine about that.

High Anxiety

2011-01-24T17:57:00.004-06:00

We're reminded from time to time that we're not in control of everything, no matter how hard we wish or try. That about sums up last weekend.

Dori has been battling a cough and some minor stomach issues the last few days. I thought for sure she had a cold, maybe the onset of a rough one. I've had one for a week, but nothing too bad.

When I looked at Dori yesterday, I knew she was thinking of other possibilities, like the dreaded "R" word. I was about 95% sure that wasn't occurring, based on my extensive (tongue) medical (in) training (cheek). No fever, a cough and that was about it. Today, she headed to Vanderbilt for a scheduled visit - Round 5 of 6 of Vidaza - with my Mom accompanying her for support.

I was at work when Mom texted Dori's counts were normal and the real experts were getting her a Z-pack and postponing the Vidaza round. Despite my confident prediction, I almost cried when I learned she simply had a cold, triggering a release that included a push away from my desk and a hug from a co-worker I trust.

Dori sounded hoarse, when I called her. I told her I would pick up the kids, asked what errands I needed to run, and said she only needed to focus on rest, hydration and eating well.

The other part of the weekend was spent watching a child struggle, then refocus on moving forward. It's hard to watch children come up short, but it's good for them to face adversity. Teaching children to deal with shortcomings is what we're supposed to be doing as parents, I believe. Too many parents coddle and lose those moments.

I think parents do best when we present challenges as opportunities. I like to ask hard questions, relate my own shortcomings and how I dealt or deal with them, seek buy-in and encourage positive responses. Yes, once in awhile, a butt-chewing is in order, especially when pep talks or reason aren't working. The easy way out is the loser's way.

As I look back on last weekend, it was an exhausting potpourri. I invested a lot in my family, working with half a tank. I tried to run six miles Saturday and struggled. The cold had taken too much of me; I had to walk at Mile 4 for a short spell. I didn't beat myself up, but went out yesterday for a short run that felt better.

We move on.

For a Great Cause

2011-01-17T17:24:00.003-06:00

Dori has set up her fundraising page in support of Gilda's Club. Of course, we encourage anyone interested to consider making a secure donation.

We continue to support three important organizations - the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society, the Kanzius Cancer Research Foundation and Gilda's Club. I believe LLS certainly had a hand in enabling Dori to continue to be with us, Kanzius holds great promise to find a cure for all cancers and Gilda's supported our family through tough times.

Dori walked three miles Saturday morning with 150 Gilda friends, and came home and ran a mile on the treadmill. Inspired, I ran six hilly miles Saturday in our neighborhood and eight flat miles in Shelby Bottoms today with Pepper.

Yesterday, Will and I watched a lot of football, something I haven't done in awhile. We love the Chicago Bears, who have four former Vanderbilt players who play important roles. Will's godfather Al joined us in watching the Bears beat the Seahawks 35-24; then Will and I watched the Jets shock the Patriots. The entire family plowed through rotel queso and chicken fingers, not the best training food. Today's run, however, was surprisingly fine.

Work has been busy and is about to get busier. To deal with the inevitable accumulating stress and to have a goal, I plan to train for the Tom King Half Marathon, a local race in March that I PR'd a few years ago. I'm not gearing for record time, but would like to run a good race.

Someone's Training

2011-01-15T08:18:00.002-06:00

Dori the Warrior started training this morning to walk a half marathon. She's walking three miles with the folks at Gilda's Club, for whom she will raise funds. The race is in late April.

When she asked me for an opinion, I said I think it's awesome, but you might run it by Dr. Jagasia at Vanderbilt. His simple reply? Go for it!

On the way out the door, Dori said, "This is so not me," as she trudged into the cold. New sportwear covered her like an eskimo.

Oh, but it is you, my dear. You've already completed 20 marathons in the hospital and at home, more than most humans could endure. I'm looking forward to yelling my a%$ off for you in the spring. Let the miles pile up and the funds come in.

I think I'll do a long run today.

Winter Progress

2011-01-10T17:39:00.011-06:00

Dori completed Round 4 of Vidaza with flying colors. Her donor DNA is a perfect 100%. She feels good, and her itching is gone. Good riddance.

Snow hit Nashville early this morning. With four inches on the ground, I took the kids sledding early to the hill I enjoyed as a boy. Will and Kathryn had a ball, and I made one Franz Klammer run down the slope with Will. My back is thanking me, but it was worth it to hear Will howling with joy as we went full speed.

I talked with the sister of a dear high school friend, as our children sledded. She said she didn't know anyone who has been through more than our family. I said, "Really?" I know many folks who have been through much worse than us. I replied the last 10 years have been the most challenging and rewarding of my life. Dori said "we're still here" when I recounted the episode.

I worked from home today, but managed to get over to Radnor Lake State Natural Area with Pepper for a brief hike. I'm glad I brought our camera. Walden Pond in Nashville ... pretty awesome.

The kids are playing some fun basketball this winter. Both teams are improving. Will's team is surprisingly undefeated, having endured a few thrillers. Kathryn's team finally broke into the win column, with a half-court three-pointer to end the third quarter and a traditional three-point play near the buzzer to win by one.

I may not have mentioned I'm not coaching this year because I want to enjoy the games WITH DORI from the stands. It's one of the best calls of my life. I still have some coach in me, which is hard to muzzle, but I so want Dori to see the kids improve and excel, which they're doing.

But you may not want to sit near me. My voice carries, like a coach's should.

Incalculable Odds

2010-12-28T10:08:00.004-06:00

Dori is beginning Round 4 of 6 of vidaza therapy today. She just called me from the hospital, encouraging me to view her good counts online. Platelets and white and red blood cell counts are all normal.

The good news is welcome, since I've been somewhat on edge this break. I've had too much time to think, really. I needed a good run yesterday to combat some negative thoughts, along with the decadent apple crumb pie my "evil" sister brought Christmas Day. After breakfast, Will and I drove to Shelby Bottoms, a flat greenway along the Cumberland River. Will biked, while Pepper and I ran into a cold northwest wind.

Midway through the run, the sun broke through after days of cloud cover. The massive low pressure system that's wreaked havoc along the east coast and dropped a few inches of snow around here finally departed. We took a break at 3.4 miles, stretched and hydrated, and started a downwind return. It felt great to be outside with my son, who I praised for being so active in his life.

My pace was intentionally slow, 10:55/mile, because I didn't know how I would last on an eight-miler. Finishing felt great. Pepper ran a PR distance and had plenty of energy left. Amazing, since he could barely run a few miles only months ago. Now he's fit. I rewarded myself with a latte and Will with a hot chocolate, and we split a scrumptious sugar cookie. Food tastes so good after a long run.

Last night, Dori and I went to our friend Kathy's house for some great Italian food, company and conversation with friends. I toasted Kathy, who is an unsung hero in our lives. Kathy has helped start four hematolgy clinics and commutes to Atlanta each week, which is eight hours on the road. Her team is on the cutting edge of treatment for blood cancers.

She was the first who enlightened Dori and me about vidaza, which her team is using in Georgia. When we mentioned vidaza to Vanderbilt's doctors, they'd heard of it, but weren't really using it much. I am convinced if 1) Kathy had not mentioned vidaza and been "kindly aggressive" in the process; and 2) we had not asked Vanderbilt to present Dori's case to the team at Fred Hutchison in Seattle that Dori would not have had the turnaround she is experiencing.

During the toast, several folks fought back tears. Dori chimed in and said what's she's told me before: Kathy always seems to call her at the right time and say the right things. Kathy's husband Kevin calls her an angel, and I couldn't agree more. Kathy is a very special angel.

How do we know her? Kathy's daughter is classmates with Will. Last night, she presented a Chicago Bears' winter cap to give to Will, who beamed this morning when he received it. Several Vanderbilt graduates are stars on the Bears' team, so Will is in Ten-Year Old Heaven.

What are the odds a hematology expert with a heart of gold would have a child at our kids' school, let alone in our son's class? Infinitesimal. How does one make sense of such a thing? There is no rational explanation. We can only trust and believe in a greater reason for having to endure so much.

We'll know soon if Dori's December itchfest is GVHD-related. I'm beginning to think so, especially after Kathy's review and diagnosis last night. Dori said if the itching is necessary to keep leukemia at bay, she's all for it.

Christmas Smiles

2010-12-24T11:45:00.008-06:00

Snow is still in the forecast for this evening and Christmas Day. It's been a long time since we've had measurable snow in Middle Tennessee. We'll see.

Dori has improved after last week's scare. Her vitality is back and that nasty rash continues to subside. We'll celebrate Christmas at Mass tonight, open presents in the morning and visit family. Words can't describe how happy we are not to be in the hospital. Instead, we're busying ourselves around the house, enjoying our tree and listening to good music. Santa has already given us the best present.

Yes, fellow runners, I'm still running. I ran seven miles last Saturday, five yesterday afternoon at Radnor Lake with Pepper and another four this morning in our neighborhood, again with Pepper. There are too many goodies around the house, so it's best if I leave it as much as possible in running garb. I'm still not training for anything, but could probably tackle anything under 10 miles. I might run the 11.2 in Percy Warner Park over the break to see where I stand.

Two days ago, we spent a great day with Will's friend from pre-school. We hadn't seen him in some time, but learned his mother recently was diagnosed with breast cancer. We know what it's like to have your world turned upside down, so the two Moms thought it would be a good idea for the boys to be together.

I took the boys, Kathryn and Pepper hiking in Beaman Park, which is a 1,600-acre gem property about 30 minutes away in Northwest Davidson County. The boys reacquainted well. They found a secure 80-foot vine on a very tall tree and took turns playing Tarzan. They probably elevated five feet off the ground, howling at their accomplishment.

We didn't talk much about cancer, but the implicit message was a good one. Keep active, and your mind will thank you. Darkness doesn't like light.

Christmas Snow?

2010-12-21T18:09:00.005-06:00

It doesn't snow much around here, especially on Christmas. But those zany folks at Weather.com have issued a statement that makes me glad we live on a hill. Snow is possible Christmas Eve and Christmas.

To me, Christmas is a season for reflection. Thanksgiving will always be my favorite holiday, but Christmas makes me think about life's priorities, much like Easter does: God, family, work, play. All four are important, but I'm especially mindful of that hierarchy during Christmas and Easter. Life is a gift, an opportunity and a test. Make the most of it, but realize what the prize is.

I say that not in a preachy way. The message in this picture, which I took at lunch, is something I personally support. I wondered when I took it, "Is this business owner preaching? What about my sandwich, dude?"

My read is that such signs are an aggressive attempt to counter the culture of declining church attendance and increasing secularism. Some people are afraid, even angry, and have different ways of expressing it.

My view? The sign is fine. Americans enjoy free speech. But I respect opposing views and religions other than Christianity. I don't have the answers, but I love the conversation.

And I believe what I believe, which is that we need snow this Christmas.

The Handyman Can

2010-12-19T20:04:00.005-06:00

What a week.

Dori broke out in a serious rash mid week, after taking an anti-biotic before a visit to the dentist. She never spiked a fever, a good sign, but her rash was pretty intense. So much so, that on Thursday night, she blacked out. I heard the fall in the kitchen, where she was getting a glass of water. After a rest, she almost passed out again. Serious flashbacks to 11 North this summer.

Dori's blood pressure is usually low, and apparently a rash can cause it to drop further. She missed a Girl's Night Out and Will's basketball game the last few days, but showed signs of improvement yesterday afternoon. With my Mom's comfort food, some family love, and plenty of Benadryl and Sarna skin creme, she continues to improve.

Today, Dori's Dad and his wife Carol and our clan headed on a scenic Sunday drive down the Natchez Trace Parkway. We stopped for lunch at Puckett's Grocery and Restaurant in Leipers Fork. Everyone loved it, especially the family bluegrass band that entertained us as we noshed. We toured the area like out-of-towners, sharing knowledge of landmarks and history. When we returned home, Kathryn and I leashed Pepper and hiked with Dori's Dad to our area hill that is a Civil War historic site. What a delightful day!

I'm not known for being very handy around the house. Three of the most dangerous words in my life have been "some assembly required." Yes, we've hired our share of Mr. Fix-It's over the years, though not as many in recent years as I've surfed the Internet for solutions. We did hire a window repairman a few weeks ago, but that's because I greatly respect glass, especially when it breaks near me.

A few weeks ago, the polypropylene backboard on the kid's basketboal goal broke. After an exhaustive search, I realized the only options were to pay $110 for a new backboard or buy the whole goal for two or three times that amount. Four years ago, my brother-in-law, who is very handy, had a difficult time assembling the goal. I helped in spots, but he did most of it.

Last week, the complete backboard arrived. The weather turned bad immediately, probably warning me not to attempt something I likely couldn't complete. Upon close inspection of the broken backboard, I heard myself say, "This is going to take a long time." Of course, the directions were useless. The nuts and bolts were in places not made for socket wrenches to reach, or any wrench for that matter. Who designed this thing?

If I failed, I would endure light-hearted ribbing, perhaps some mockery. My brother-in-law, who loaned me some special tools for the task, playfully said just to let him know when he was needed. No way, Jose. This one's mine, I said. I may have nine fingers soon, but it's mine.

I made progress, but couldn't unthread a few of the nuts that weren't interested in letting go. Neither was I, but I was going to need a friend to help provide the necessary torque. Dori's Dad arrived yesterday, and said, "Let's go." We spent an hour breaking down the broken backboard, then getting the new one started. We had several starts and stops, but pressed on. We had to end our efforts to make it to the kids' late afternoon basketball games, but I knew we would finish this weekend. Dori's Dad said he would be back today to help finish the job.

When he drove up the driveway this morning, I was finishing the final turn of the wrench. "You didn't need me," he said. No, I did, but I had fun finishing this on my own once the stubborn bolts had been overrun by their conquerors. We asked Will to take the ceremonial first shot. SWISH! "Now put one off the backboard," I said. No clang! Just a true bounce and another score.

Feel free to sing along: The Handyman can cause he mixes it with love and helps the boy shoot good.

Please, Please Stop

2010-12-13T18:07:00.002-06:00

Last Saturday morning, I ran with some Team In Training friends, giving the "Mission Moment" to 40 people who will be running races this spring. Obviously, I talked about Dori but also about my friend Jim Asker, a real inspiration to Dori and me.

Before the run, Jim told me a former teammate learned her mother has lymphoma. The next day, Dori and I heard a friend has breast cancer. I read the Sunday paper, in which an NHL assistant hockey coach here revealed he's battling prostate cancer.

At bedtime, my good night glass of water tasted like vinegar. Dori asked me what was wrong yesterday, and I just didn't feel like getting into it. I nitpicked and snapped much of the weekend.

This cancer thing is getting beyond old. And that's how I felt in 2008. The costs on families and society continue to soar, and we keep doing the same things - little exercise, the next cure-all, whatever.

The holidays are here, and I will cheer up some because we have Dori. But I better not read or hear any more news about cancer striking again.

I'm not in the mood.

A Toast

2010-12-10T17:52:00.003-06:00

Dori celebrated her 43rd birthday in grand style yesterday.

Our friends Mariesa and Pat, Mary Belle and Tony, and Marian and Michael met us at our favorite restaurant, Margot Cafe. Put simply, we've never been to a better, friendlier place where food and wine are pared so brilliantly.

Neither Dori nor I will ever forget last night. Before our friends arrived, Dori and I had a mini-date, noshing on fresh bread with herb-infused olive oil, balsamic vinaigrette and parmagiano-reggiano. Dori had a glass of 2008 Jean Marc Brocard Saint Bris, which was crisp and delightful, while I dabbled with a 2007 Feraud Brunel Cote du Rhones Village, a dusty, cedar-filled Old World wine. We approved so much, we ordered for our satisfied guests with the Housemade Potato Chips with Aioli.

After a first course of remarkable fried brussel sprouts with crisp prosciutto and aioli, Dori enjoyed a grilled eggplant with oven-roasted tomatoes and chick peas and fresh basil. I had a strip steak with polenta, mushroom sauce and radicchio, which was ridiculously good.

Our friends Betsy and Skip surprised us with a bottle of Botter Prosecco, an excellent extra dry sparkling wine that we shared with our friends. It did nothing but tango with some chocolate creme brulee.

Most of the night was spent laughing, talking about our children, families, and recent interests, and toasting. I started by honoring the three women - Dori, Mariesa and Mary Belle - who vowed last July on our living room couch to celebrate Dori's birthday at Margot Cafe. In fact, Mariesa said she made the reservations that same evening. I knew Dori had her doubts that day. I can tell you her e-mail today to all three women was as grateful as anything I've ever read.

When we sang happy birthday to Dori, people around us sensed the joy, and chimed in with gusto. Dori opened gifts, all of them wonderful. We're still baffled at one, a two-night stay at the luxurious Blackberry Farm in the foothills of the Great Smoky Mountains. We are not worthy, no matter what anyone says.

But we're going together, and that's the best gift of all.

Saturday Benefit

2010-12-06T18:57:00.003-06:00

If you're looking for something to do this weekend or have nothing planned yet, our friend Jim Asker - a lymphoma survivor, running buddy and inspiring man - has a great suggestion:

"On Saturday December 11th from 7-10 p.m., I will be having a "benefit concert" for the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society. This will be the kickoff for my fund-raising for the Dublin Marathon and what I hope will result in reaching my goal of $25,000 this year.

The concert will be at the LISTENING ROOM, Cummins Station, Demonbreun Avenue in Nashville and will feature four wonderful artists: Ty Herndon, Anita Cochran, Ashley Gearing and Katie Armiger.

My friend Suzanne Alexander, a TNT alumni and personality on GAC-TV, will host the festivities. There will also be a silent auction. If you click on this link it explains all the details, including how to buy tickets in advance.

Kanzius On The Move

2010-12-04T13:06:00.001-06:00

The Kanzius folks have an important update in their e-newsletter:

More than 30 cancer groups are in current studies at The University of Texas M.D. Anderson Cancer Center and the University of Pittsburgh Medical Center. Eight are the primary focus: breast, colon, leukemia, liver, lung, melanoma, pancreas and prostate. Please visit www.Kanzius.org/research regularly for the latest developments in our laboratories.

Putting Your Mind To It

2010-12-04T09:37:00.003-06:00

I've watched a lot of progress lately.

Of course, Dori continues to get better. I've watched our son's growth in many areas and our daughter is pressing forward, too. She's been playing some marvelous piano the last few days, which warms our house. May it continue through the holidays. Even Pepper is advancing. He's lost weight and looks great. Yesterday, he ran five easy miles with me. He has so much energy.

Others in my family also are showing strong will. Each of us faces challenges, even demons. I pray often that I will stand up better to the termites in my house. Impatience is one of several.

Scripture can be powerful. Last Sunday, one reading resonated in particular, an excerpt from Romans 13:

For our salvation is nearer now than when we first believed; the night is advanced, the day is at hand. Let us then throw off the works of darkness (and) put on the armor of light.

Many prayers have been answered, but I must remind myself not to be lazy about prayer. Each battle is part of the war, and another battle is always ahead. You probably know the feeling.

Just The Boys

2010-11-29T19:00:00.017-06:00

Dori started Vidaza, Round 3, today. Her counts look very good. White and red blood cell counts are steady, and platelets jumped to 238. She doesn't have to go back for labs until the end of December. She returns Tuesday through Friday to receive more Vidaza.

Will and I spent the weekend at Charit Creek Lodge in the Big South Fork last weekend with two buddies and their Dads. This was my third time to Charit Creek, the first with Dori on a day hike about 14 years ago and last year with Kathryn.

The three men and three boys hiked through gorges, across cold mountain streams and to spectacular overlooks. We went over and around rock formations like the Twin Arches and other formations that have been eroding for more than 300 million years.

We built a bonfire and ate Southern fare. The Dads enjoyed some local wine and extra sharp cheddar cheese, while the boys caught crawdads and explored the area with refreshing curiosity. We simply had a grand time.

Evaporating frost

Father and son

Rock hopping

South Arch, Twin Arches

Young outdoorsman

Proudly rooted

Hiking fraternity

Darned Good Bird

2010-11-26T07:40:00.020-06:00

Happy sisters giving thanks

A few days ago, Dori and I picked out a fresh turkey. I planned to smoke this fine bird, and found a recipe for Apple-Onion Turkey for our family and guests - Dori's Mom and her sister Kathy and their family.

On Wednesday, I prepared our stuffing and then went to work on the bird. I rubbed seven special seasonings in the cavity, quartered an organic apple, onion, lemon and orange, and stuffed those in the turkey with some fresh organic rosemary sprigs. With a hunk of french bread, I sealed off the bird and placed in the fridge to sit overnight.

Yesterday morning, I ran the Boulevard Bolt, a traditional start to my favorite holiday. This year, Will joined me on the course at around Mile 2 for his first Bolt. I ran slowly the first half of the race on the jammed course and then was sidetracked by a bathroom break for nearly three minutes. Nature called; I listened. I wasn't worried about running fast anyway, just a calorie-consuming pace.

My Mom and Kathryn were at the turnaround on Belle Meade Boulevard, and so was Will, who hopped on the course. We ran a 9:30 first mile together and then dropped the pace gradually, finishing the last mile at about 8:00/mile. The run was easy for Will, who crossed the finish line under no strain and asked, "Can I run the whole thing next year?" Yes, I said, and I won't hold you up, either. My Garmin time was 47:30 for 5.04 miles, just under a 9:30/mile pace.

Back to the bird, I fired up the smoker, settling on 235 degrees. For 6 1/2 hours, I tended to the well-oiled bird and smoked some spicy sausage on the side. My family members began cycling through the house, first my Mom and later my Dad and his wife and my sister Anne and her husband. It was a good day to laugh and chat, and we did it well.

Dori and Kathy prepared some amazing sides, and I brought in the bird, once it reached 165 degrees. After it sat a spell, Kathy's husband Nathan carved it perfectly and we garnished the platter. The four children each said a prayer of thanks, with Will capturing some hearts with a thank you to the doctors and staff of 11 North. Amen, buddy. Perfectly said.

The turkey was perfect. The white meat was moist and bursting with flavor. We enjoyed a magnificent riesling from Arrington Vineyards, a fine compliment to the cornucopia of fantastic food prepared by all.

And that's how you do a great Thanksgiving!

Finely smoked

The spread

The fantastic four

Thankful For Much

2010-11-21T11:03:00.008-06:00

I spent some of the morning surfing the Web for more information about Vidaza, a brand name for the drug azacitidine. As you know, Dori is receiving it in six weeklong rounds, with Round Three set for the Monday after Thanksgiving.

I'm learning more than I probably want to know, including clinical effects and personal stories on message boards. The drug is very expensive, which we already knew, and made by Celgene, a company in the Boston area. Celgene has seen its sales soar as more providers are recommending it. Some governments like the U.K. and Australia agree the drug is effective but won't include in their national plans because of cost. You can buy Vidaza online in Canada, too, it appears. 100mg costs about $1,100 across the border.

Here's what you and I know about Vidaza. Dori is improving, and our kids still have their Mom. Dori continues to wear her "Hans Lives Here" black night shirt with pink lettering to bed every night, investing in faith and hope he will stay on task. I pray nightly that Hans keeps up the good work and for Vidaza to continue doing its mysterious thing.

Vidaza is being administered outpatient to Dori, which is much less expensive than an in-hospital stay. About every few days, I ponder what another transplant would have meant to my family. I'm grateful, as you can imagine, we're not camped out at the hospital. That's how I feel about Vidaza.

Last week, I looked at Dori midway through Kathryn's first basketball game and saw that same thankfulness. Kathryn's team was down 12 points, and we could have cared less. Kathryn was playing well and Dori was there, enjoying it all. Just smiles.

We will celebrate Thanksgiving with Dori's family this week. Her Mom and her sister's family will arrive in a few days. Dori is planning the menu, and I'll smoke a turkey or two. The kids will play with their two cousins, and their two dogs will join Pepper in a packed house. I'm quite pumped. This will be a great holiday for Dori and the kids. Ten years ago, I might have been bracing myself. Not these days. Bring it on.

I'm planning to run the Boulevard Bolt, a five-miler on Thanksgiving morning. I ran six last Sunday, and three and five milers during the week. I ran four this morning, slow at first and brisk at the end. My weekly 15-mile regimen the last month is probably enough to allow me to run an OK pace, though I'll probably look for a friend or two and just run comfortably with them. I don't have anything to prove with this run.

Nearly 8,000 people have already entered the Bolt. Proceeds feed and help the homeless. It seems like more are homeless this year, from all the people we see standing at intersections selling $1 newspapers. I love the Bolt because it's a great cause and great way to start my favorite holiday, and I see so many friends from over the years.

I hope you all have similar plans. Happy Thanksgiving!

By the way, check out the updated Kanzius Cancer Research Foundation website. Lots of good news there on a better looking site!

Kanzius Cancer Research Foundation Presentation from PAPA Advertising on Vimeo.

Getting Strong, Girl

2010-11-15T18:56:00.016-06:00

Mother and son enjoy the outdoors.

On Saturday with our favorite cancer survivor, Will and I experienced a memorable six-mile hike. We explored the Savage Gulf State Natural Area, perhaps my favorite spot in our home state.

Dori and my Mom decided to join us for two of the six miles, but at the turnaround Dori said, "I can do the whole thing. I feel good." So off we went, with Pepper on point. My Mom headed back to our cabin where we were staying for the weekend and celebrating an early Thanksgiving.

I wondered if this was a good idea. Dori has been improving, but six miles into remote wilderness? ... Ahh, what the hell?

We left the Stone Door and started skirting the cavernous Big Creek Gulf along the Big Creek Rim Trail. The views over 800-foot dropoffs were spectacular, even a few weeks past peak fall colors. Dori wasn't keen to staying near some of the more exposed points on the trail, given that her balance isn't 100%. She enjoyed the views in her spots of choice.

Near Mile 5, I could tell Dori was tiring. I said we should slow down. So what did she do? She charged up the only major hill, more defiant than determined. She pushed hard. Near the end, I reached for her hand, more to slow her down. She declined. I said, "Sweetie, you're getting a little wobbly." She kept walking. I said, "Please stop now." She listened, rested and we finished the last few hundred yards.

She did great. It takes a little attitude to do what she did.

We believe in our Creator around this corner of the Web. We continue to thank Him for this past weekend, during which we saw the sights you see below and heard not a peep but for our own pitter-patter on the trail.

"Look at this view, Mom."

"I'm ready when you are, big fella."

Good advice.

She was sitting on a log, if you must ask.

Looking down Big Creek Gulf.

"Now I see why Aunt Anne likes painting."

Restful reader.

Be the Match!

2010-11-10T14:47:00.007-06:00

Many of you have said, "I want to help Dori and your family but don't know what to do."

Here's a great opportunity! Our friend Emmit at "I Run For The Party" is organizing a Bone Marrow Donor Drive that runs Thursday through Saturday in conjunction with this Saturday's Nashville 1/2 Marathon. Click here and check out the flyer above for more information. According to their Web site, the donor drive will be held at Packet Pickup times (Thursday from 6-8 p.m. and Friday from 11 a.m.-8 p.m.) and on Race Day under a tent across from Registration & Food near the Hard Rock Cafe in downtown Nashville.

This drive is an easy way at no cost to get on the National Marrow Donor Program through the Be the Match program. Dori would not be alive today unless many caring people made efforts like this, so we would be honored and grateful if you joined them. Please let us know if you did!

Back to Work

2010-11-09T18:19:00.003-06:00

After more than four months away, Dori returned to work today. When she walked into loan committee, 20 bankers stopped talking, stood up and welcomed back their co-worker with applause. I love that bank.

Dori put in three hours today and will do the same tomorrow. I've all but begged her to take it slow and ease into a new routine. Next week, she'll work four-hour days Monday through Thursday, another gradual step to normalcy.

I also love that about a half dozen people have told me they stop daily now to hug their loved ones, something we encouraged in a recent CaringBridge post. Hugs work, y'all, down here and up north!

I blew off a morning run and slept in this morning. Tomorrow, I plan to rid myself of guilt and pound pavement, dog in front.

Feng Shui

2010-11-07T12:05:00.003-06:00

Moving around makes life better.

Yesterday, I biked hills for about 40 minutes, working the heart before settling in to watch college football. I purposefully avoided watching my alma mater. What Vanderbilt plays these days isn't college football. Pee Wee football, maybe.

Otherwise, I enjoyed it, before capping the night watching Rocky II with the kids. I couldn't help but identify with Rocky staying by Adrian in the hospital. When Rocky's trainer Mickey quit barking temporarily to stand by Rocky, it crossed my mind that ole Mick might as well have been our family and friends rolled into one character.

This morning, I took Pepper to Percy Warner Park for the 5.8-mile loop. Dori wondered if the distance and hills would be "too much for Schnoogie," Kathryn's nickname for Pepper. Looking just as strong at the end as when he started, Pepper answered any doubts. He's just a great dog with great spirit. I feel like the week, with an extra hour in the bank from daylight savings and the good exercise, is off to the right start.

Dori's energy level is improving even more. Yesterday, she walked 3.2 miles with our friend Renee at PWP, then proceeded to clean and situate our house like I've never seen her do. Our small bathroom seems bigger, and the living and dining rooms are looking sharp. Feng shui has always been fun to say, and now experience.

She said something this morning, as she was moving things around, that caught my attention. "Things are supposed to come in threes," some sort of decorating tip. I said, yes, but not relapses. "That's right! Excellent!" she said. And that's all I'm saying about that.

Time for a Recharge

2010-11-04T19:37:00.005-05:00

Dori is watching her favorite show, 30 Rock. I'm a fan, but am dedicating a free moment to get off a log and blog. I haven't been blogging much, compared to when I initiated this project. I seem to have less time these days. Where does it go?

After two good weeks of running, I've been a complete slug. The one day I ran this week, Pepper pulled me through the neighborhood like a rag doll. My tank was empty, so I stopped after 1.5 and walked our canine Chris Farley home. I wasn't in the mood for his best Matt Foley.

I've hit a lull, after several pain-free, mostly fun runs, especially last Saturday. I'm going to set the alarm and give it a whirl in the morning. It's cold tonight, the kind of weather I like. Maybe I'll also bike this weekend and enjoy some countryside and brisk air.

Dori's pain from the port has slowly subsided. She's not a whiner, but I know she's been bothered by the incision. I sincerely wish, on a fairly regular basis, that I could share some of her physical burden and let her rest.

Some folks told me tonight at Will's basketball practice that Dori continues to inspire them. I see their sincerity. With equal sincerity, I share how much we appreciate them. These friends lift us up, with prayer, cards, dinners and smiles. These moments matter to me.

I am in awe of my wife, which you know. No woman has more grace and goodness than Dori. When I reflect, as I am now, it enables me to get out of the daily grind, take inventory, go big picture again, and renew personal commitments. Like a snake sheds its skin, it's time for a change.

So early tomorrow, I'll run.

Guilt Trip

2010-10-31T09:06:00.006-05:00

Dori is feeling better today after receiving her port Friday. The surgery caused discomfort and some pain, which slowly has abated over the weekend. The port over the right side of her chest will allow her to receive Vidaza therapy easier; the PICC line in her right arm, which can be mildly cumbersome, is gone. I'm sure Dori is glad to lose the latter, which I've been cleaning nearly every day since her hospital discharge in late summer.

Friday night was awkward, even hard, for me. Dori was wiped and could not attend a party some friends threw for a few families and kids. The food was great and people were nice, but I didn't really want to be there. I was glad the kids had fun, but I wasn't up for "small talk" and thought constantly of Dori, who was at home resting in bed. When she called after dinner and said she need extra strength Tylenol, that hurt. The late-night ride to the drugstore stunk.

All of this has passed. Dori is good - no infections and she's moving around just fine. The puffiness from steroids is leaving. She is in good spirits and ready for Vidaza treatments to resume tomorrow. She'll receive Vidaza five straight days. Get ready, Hans.

Yesterday morning was glorious, and my run was equally invigorating. It was cold, just barely above freezing, before the sun popped proudly into the sky. With my friends Jim, Jack, Carey, Rhonda and about six others, we ran the Moran-Old Natchez route that is a favorite. All wore hats, and most donned gloves. Brrrrr.

Our pace was too fast at the start, maybe a nine-minute mile, so I backed off and found some friends at the back of the pack. Before we reached the five-mile turnaround, several said they needed to head back because they had a mid-morning Leukemia & Lymphoma Society recruitment meeting. Fine with me. We turned back at 4.6 miles.

With two miles to go, some front-runners dropped their pace, and I decided to catch them. I finished well. Average pace for nine-miles plus was probably 9:45/mile or thereabouts, with the last two miles around 8:30/mile. I love lattes, but they're especially good after a long run. And so are weekends.

Hans Back In Control

2010-10-24T16:01:00.006-05:00

Dori learned today she is 100% male donor, up from 99.5% at her last biopsy. This is great news, which we posted today on CaringBridge. Welcome back, Hans!

Dori's strength continues to improve. Her muscles are rebuilding, and her stamina is improving. She still tires easily, but the direction is promising. Kathryn and Dori walked two miles earlier today. Dori is a busy, busy bee around the house. She's reassuming control over traditional chores and probably will return to a limited work schedule next month. I'm encouraging a go-slow approach, which I think her employer will understand.

I'm doing well. Work was intense for two months, but we've hit a semi-lull. I think having so much to do after getting Dori home in August was a good thing. An occupied mind keeps negative thoughts at bay. That said, I really needed a break about a week ago, which I took. I expect to take more vacation time the next few months. Know thyself.

I'm really at an inventory stage, and family management, always a part of my life, is front and center. We are asked a lot, "How are the kids doing?" That might be the hardest question to answer, frankly. Young children aren't as equipped to deal with the crap bombs we've been getting on and off for three years. Mature adults generally have deeper faiths than children and more maturity in most instances (though that's arguable in some families). The normal progression of life gives forty-somethings more tools than pre-teens.

So how do I answer that doozie? I think I finally found a good answer today as we spoke with our friend Jim this afternoon. "They're doing better than most kids their age who would be facing this situation," I said. Dori approved. It's not easy for them. They've learned life isn't fair and been given good reasons for higher anxiety. Our mantra, however, continues to be that we're going to live our lives to the fullest, stay active, and identify and use every available coping skill.

I ran four times this week - three times at dawn with Pepper (total of 11 miles) and a seven-miler yesterday at noon with Jim and a few of his buddies. The hills were easy, which I attribute to recent hill climbing on my bike. My heart rate is used to being elevated. I will likely try a 10-miler next weekend and to surpass 20 miles for the week. We have a five-mile Thanksgiving race I enjoy, but I may need to find a half marathon soon.

I'll leave you with a few photos from Dori's 20th college reunion, which she celebrated this weekend with good friends.

Dori, Liz, Cathi and Heather

Dori with Jodie Foster-lookalike and dear friend Liz

Fall Break

2010-10-16T08:09:00.014-05:00

Based on yesterday's photos, you might suspect I had a great bike ride. It was beyond incredible, 25 miles of wonderful scenery and crisp air on the panoramic Natchez Trace Parkway. I slept 10 hours last night and am a "happy sore" this morning.

I've needed time away from the office, so I took two vacation days. On Thursday, Dori and I took Pepper and three ready-to-empty minds to Radnor Lake for a walk. The colors were amazing, just like on the Natchez Trace. We seemingly wait all year for this special time, and we're going to take advantage of every bit of it.

Another Thursday highlight: Dori visited her employer, a small bank, for the first time since her relapse and remission. The entire bank - probably 25 employees - spent quality time laughing with and loving on Dori. It was remarkable, just great people showing support and encouragement. I personally thanked them for all their prayers, e-mails and CaringBridge posts. They make a tremendous difference.

Tonight, Dori and I will celebrate our 16th anniversary, which was actually yesterday. Every occasion is special, but this one will be a little more so.

Morning Bike Ride on the Natchez Trace Parkway

2010-10-15T16:57:00.005-05:00

Her Hike

2010-10-12T18:05:00.009-05:00

All is well here. It's just been a wee bit hectic. I've been on the road, and work has been mostly fun, just harder to manage from the road and with normal family stuff.

A decade ago as we welcomed our children, I remember some wise people telling me how the Year 2000 calamity predictions were overblown and that "your most challenging years as a parent will arrive soon." Thank you, grasshoppers. Good call on the computers, but now what?

Actually, I am enjoying being a parent, even the stressful moments. The last month has been hard for some family members. I chalk some of it up to post-traumatic stress from the summer, and some to normal growth issues. Right here, right now is where and when we earn our keep as parents.

I learned a great deal going through some difficult teen years, and hopefully am a better parent as a result. I've been being fairly patient the last few weeks (for me), sharing love and lessons with people I love very much. Prayers for peace and patience - at home and at work - almost always work for me.

Dori is doing well overall. She finished her first week of Vidaza last week, with some queasiness as a side effect. Her counts today at clinic looked good; she didn't need a transfusion, though a bit more dropoff in her counts is expected from the Vidaza. I'm thrilled, since she's not going through turmoil.

Last weekend, we loaded up the minivan and headed for the mountains of northeast Alabama. Dori and I recalled spending a wonderful weekend 12 years ago in the Mentone area, so we scoured the Internet for lodging. On short notice, we found a pet-friendly cabin near the Little River Canyon on the lower end of Lookout Mountain. It was refreshing and peaceful, with several highlights - enjoying a great family meal at the Wildfire Cafe in Mentone, running four serene miles at dawn on a back country dirt road, and watching football with my son and the stars with my family on a clear night.

The biggest highlight was watching Dori hike into a steep canyon, perhaps a quarter mile, and hiking back out. I wasn't fired up initially about her obstinence to do this, but she wanted at it. She did great, saying softly but firmly as she reached our car, "I did it."

Yes, you did, great woman.

Kanzius Update

2010-10-02T10:32:00.003-05:00

Dori and I support the Kanzius Cancer Research Foundation and encourage you and your friends to join us. We are all united as human beings in wiping out cancer and giving our children better odds against the beast. Check out their latest update with encouraging news and ways to support them.

Vidaza, It Is

2010-09-30T17:26:00.002-05:00

After considering recommendations and options, Dori has decided to begin a regimen of Vidaza, a drug that has kept leukemia effectively at bay in many AML (acute myeloid leukemia) patients.

I fully support her decision, which is based on a recommendation from the Fred Hutchinson Cancer Center in Seattle. Vanderbilt’s team presented Dori’s case to the Hutch, and they put Vidaza at the top of their list. The Hutch has been using Vidaza more than Vanderbilt, as have several facilities the last 10 years or so. Our friend Kathy suggested it as an option since her team in Atlanta has been using it, as well, and Vanderbilt had it on their option list. Vanderbilt will administer the Hutch’s recommendation here. No travel is necessary.

This means Dori will not receive a second transplant. The doctors in Seattle and at Vanderbilt and my family now believe Dori essentially underwent a second transplant in July. Her intense GVHD (graft versus host disease) this summer suggests her donor “Hans” took a brief break before he realized he wasn’t supposed to. Thankfully, he hopped back in the saddle. Interestingly, we’ve heard this "last minute to-the-rescue" thing is rare, perhaps happening in 1% to 2% of cases like Dori’s. We are fortunate Hans got fired up again.

Candidly, I didn’t want to see Dori endure another transplant, and neither did she. If she needed to have one, she would have been her normal gritty self. But her body has been through a great deal, and we’re relieved she can pursue another course.

Vidaza has been around a while, perhaps 30 years. Studies have shown Vidaza keeps GVHD at bay, but doesn’t hinder GVL (graft versus leukemia or graft versus tumor, which we want). Vidaza also keeps open all options– including another transplant or DLI (donor lymphocyte infusion) – if necessary.

That’s not how we’re approaching it. We’re looking at about six months’ regimen of Vidaza, more prayer and clean living. Dori has begun tapering steroids and cyclosporine, which has been sorely needed. Steroids wear out the body.

Dori starts Vidaza Monday. God be with her, every step and every moment.

'Transplant Two'

2010-09-27T18:39:00.005-05:00

Dori and I met with Dr. Jagasia last Friday. I'll blog again once we sort out more details from a very helpful and interesting exchange.

It's pretty clear Dori, whose situation looks more unique every day, essentially experienced a second transplant earlier this summer. We think Hans took a brief break before realizing he needed to get back to work. Looking back, Dori's intense GVHD for a week in July was all Hans, who was mad as hell some leukemia sneaked past his radar. Stay tuned for some analysis and potential next steps.

Friends and family were active last weekend. Donna filed a nice report about her first half marathon. We're thrilled she ran so well in her first 13.1 and appreciate what she did for Dori.

Kathryn and Will ran PRs yesterday in their final cross country meet. Conditions were very good - cloudy and a comfortable 70. Kathryn ran 1.5 miles in 11:19, besting her 12:21 and moving up to a Top 25 finish. Will ran his mile in 6:34, finishing around 13th. Both finished hard.

Dori the Treadmill Warrior continues to walk about 30 minutes every day. She loved the cool breeze that blew through the window during yesterday's walk. I biked 30 hilly miles yesterday morning. One hill blew me off my bike for the first time. The hill was about a half mile long, much of it at least an 18% grade. It was too dangerous to weave up the hill ... a speeding car would have complicated our lives.

We like simple around here.

VH1's Top 100 Bands

2010-09-25T10:27:00.006-05:00

Time for some lighter blogging ...

Last night, I watched VH1's Top 100 Rock Bands of all time. I caught the last two hours as they reviewed Numbers 40 through the all-time greatest. No surprise that the Beatles were No. 1, but Bob Dylan at No. 3? It was that kind of night!

Here's the list, which by and large I found to be a good run-through. I humbly submit my Top 10 with some honorable mentions. Maybe you'll share your Top 10, as well.

10. Queen - Nobody like them.
9. Fleetwood Mac - Get better every time I listen to them as a group or as solo acts.
8. The Beatles - Greatest impact on so many that followed, though I like listening to McCartney & Wings more.
7. The Doors - Mesmerizing.
6. Tears for Fears - Sister Anne would wear me out if I left them off my list.
5. Run DMC - Yo, Jay!
4. The Who - Townshend is brilliant.
3. The Police - Cross-polination of rock and reggae with Sting's voice, Copeland's drums and Summers' riffs.
2. Mark Knopfler - Yes, Dire Straits, but so much more ... blues, country, stadium rock and tremendous movie scores. How is he not in the Top 100 and Dylan is No. 3?
1. U2 - My winner based on phenomenal songs, longevity and impact on humanity

Honorable mention: David Bowie, Talking Heads, Depeche Mode, Pretenders, Simple Minds, R.E.M., Coldplay, The Kinks, The Clash, Paul McCartney & Wings, Pink Floyd, Rolling Stones, Led Zeppelin, Michael Jackson, Moody Blues, The Cars and B-52s

Go, Donna!

2010-09-25T10:10:00.005-05:00

This morning, our good friend Donna Clements laced up her running shoes and ran 13.1 in honor of Dori. Donna's husband, Runcie, was my best friend in high school and is a super guy. I knew he'd find a special woman one day ... Donna is certainly special with her exuberant, positive example.

Dori and I were overwhelmed to receive this message this morning. We encourage you to read and consider Donna's suggested action items (Be the Match and Donate to LLS). Folks often ask us, "How can we help?" Donna has some great ideas for you!

We can't wait to hear Donna's race report!

The Words We Choose

2010-09-21T18:48:00.005-05:00

Dori can't watch tense Vanderbilt games, which runs in her family. Dori and some of her relatives will vacate the room, listen for cheers and check in briefly for updates.

Saturday's football game against Ole Miss was no different. Vanderbilt took advantage of some shoddy Rebel play and put down the hammer late to upset Hotty Toddy 28-14. Dori entered the room late to join the hootin' and hollerin'. We like what we're seeing from our new head coach, who received his first game ball in 34 years. Very fun, very emotional.

Many conversations about or with Dori the last few years have been uplifting. But folks, I've heard some crazy things, too - in hospital rooms, on the phone, in our home and from strangers, medical staff and yes, family. I've probably said some things I want back, too.

The outlandishness is often rooted in fear, selfishness or insensitivity. I've brushed off most inanity fairly well, but when I see Dori hurt it's very hard not to be affected. A few years ago after chemo, someone said she looked like Aunt Jemima. Recently, someone made a remark that some folks have a hard time looking at people with cancer. What does a man do when he sees someone's mouth open only to project buffalo chips?

I cannot dwell on someone else's complete lack of understanding, momentary or not, of what Dori is enduring. I cease to be amazed at the lack of sensitivity to her burden and how some people are unable to at least try to see things from her view before opening their mouths.

My remedy is, and always will be, hugs, encouragement and the truth for Dori. I've never been around a better and more courageous person. And that's no buffalo crap.

What Will Be The Plan?

2010-09-16T10:10:00.006-05:00

Dori is in the cancer infusion clinic, receiving platelets, which have dropped significantly after last week's chemo. Earlier this morning, we visited with Dr. Jagasia to discuss how the plan is looking. The discussion was very informative and has us talking about the recent past and the future.

The doctors are basically thinking of a few options. Highest on Dr. Jagasia's list is doing a second transplant (stem cell this time, not bone marrow) with a preparatory infusion of thymoglobulin, a relatively new chemo drug they are beginning to administer more effectively. A donor lymphocyte infusion is also being seriously discussed. Dr. Jagasia said he will recommend using Dori's original donor, Hans, who is apparently available for the transplant or DLI. Other team doctors are currently advocating leaving things as they are, while maybe one cites data that this disease known as AML is "incurable" (pause for "hogwash").

Dr. Jagasia said Dori is clearly in "unchartered territory." He said Vanderbilt has not done a second transplant here on an AML patient like Dori and little scientific data is available to give them guidance to a certain best course. Dori's complex cytogenetics also has them a bit befuddled, but Dr. Jagasia, who seems clearly inspired by Dori, said he is hopeful. Her relapse occurred well after the first transplant, and her functions (liver, heart, etc.) remain good.

He mentioned we could do a second transplant in Houston (MD Anderson) or Seattle (Fred Hutchinson Cancer Research Center). We aren't leaning that way; we like the team at Vanderbilt, and it's close to home. We likely will ask Dr. Jagasia to present Dori's case not only to his team here at Vanderbilt, which he will do again next week, but also to the team at "the Hutch." Then we'll follow the chosen plan here at Vanderbilt. Dori is probably seven to eight weeks out from a transplant or the DLI.

Dori commented she knows she's not going to live to 80 and she might just resolve to getting another few years, to which Dr. Jagasia said, "I don't believe that's necessarily true. There is hope." Amen, Dr. J.

We were surprised to learn Dori's graft versus host disease (GVHD) in July was Stage 3 and 4. Stage 1 and 2 are easily manageable, while 3 and 4 are life threatening. They don't want 3 and 4 again, and neither do we. Purple, hot, peeling skin isn't welcome again on my girl. The main risks going forward are too much GVHD and infections.

I asked Dori today if she believes in miracles. She said yes, she had been before, but with a grain of salt. Today, she said she absolutely believes in them. Listening to today's clinical view, I realized how fortunate Dori is to be here right here right now. I asked, "Why is it that we have 'Internet friends' like PJ, Ann, Ronni, Lea and others ... people we've never met who are incredible survivors against the odds, just like you?" How do you explain all this?

There are no easy answers. For doctors, for my family, for anyone. The doctors can only do the best with what they know. Our family can only face this with dignity and honesty, as Dori continues to do. Our extensive support group can only pray for the outcome we all want.

Bouncing Back

2010-09-15T20:24:00.005-05:00

Kathryn and Will decided they wanted to run at a high school's open invitational meet for 5th through 8th graders. This evening, fifth-grader Will entered to run 800 meters, while seventh grader Kathryn signed up for 1600. My Mom and sister Anne joined us. Only one other boy showed for Will's race, while Kathryn ran against eight other girls.

Will ran well, finishing a few seconds ahead of his companion, officially at 2:59. His McMillan Running calculator projects his mile at 6:37. He enjoys running and did very well for his first race on a track!

Kathryn had a rough cross country race Sunday, but showed significant maturity that evening when she told me, "I need to prepare better before the next race. No more sleepovers." I was impressed. She prepared well today and arrived determined this evening.

From the gun, her teammate Kennedy set a blistering pace, running the first 400 in 1:23. Wow. Kathryn hung around, clocking a 1:30. Too fast, I thought. I turned to Kennedy's Mom and said, "This can't last." It didn't, as they both settled in to a more reasonable pace. Kennedy stayed smooth, as Kathryn tracked her, with a girl from another school a few seconds behind.

The girls' form began to deteriorate, but you could see them fight through it. Kathryn finished her third lap with a red face, but with an expression that said, "Last Sunday wasn't me. This is me." She started to close on her friend, but Kennedy found a gear. Both bested the winning time in last year's inaugural meet, Kennedy at 6:56 and Kathryn at 7:03. Kathryn's friend Haile finished fourth. Kathryn's mile equivalent projects to a 7:15.

On the way home, the kids provided race recounts. I dropped the term "negative splits" as a teaching moment, and both kids asked, "What's that?" That's how you lower your times, as I shared some hard lessons I'd learned in a few races.

Earlier in the evening, Dori was a bit down she couldn't attend, since crowd avoidance is on her daily To Do List with her low blood counts. I called her from the track, and also filmed parts of the race and took photos. We watched them tonight, with smiles, attaboys and attagirls.

Tomorrow, Dori and I head to clinic for her check-up and talk with the doctors. Resilience runs in this family!

Such Language

2010-09-12T16:04:00.003-05:00

Last night, Will, his godfather Al and I settled in to our seats to watch Vanderbilt play LSU. Vanderbilt laid an egg, but it wasn't their inept offensive play that kept us from enjoying the game. It was the people around us, fans from both sides.

I've been attending Vanderbilt games a long time and never heard so many foul mouths in my life, not in college, the Navy or anywhere else. A group of six Vandy fans acted like orcs. Three were teens, two girls and one boy, who talked just like their obnoxious father, who threatened to fight a group of LSU fans a few rows behind them. Will and I moved down a row, but you could still hear the gutter talk. To my right, other fans also weren't saying nice things about people's mothers. A few LSU fans, young girls around 20 who probably had been drinking the entire day, barely made it to their seats. They had no idea where they were.

Midway through the second quarter, Will asked if we could leave at halftime. The thought of moving to other seats crossed my mind, but I said maybe. Minutes later, his request was more urgent. He was having an awful time. I thought about what he's going through. The evening was supposed to be about fun, a break. Instead, he was likely thinking what I was: "How could people act so hatefully and boorishly? It's a football game."

I looked at Al, and he nodded. Let's get out of here. This is impossible to enjoy.

Sorry to sound snobbish, but those people did little to honor the heroes of 9/11 with their behavior. It seems like more folks today are angrier and unhappier than 15 or certainly 30 years ago. Or maybe it's just where we're sitting!

Will and I rode 10 on the bike yesterday, and I enjoyed a 27-mile ride early this morning through suburbs, farmland and city parks. I counted eight serious hills with an ascend of 1,000 feet (according to mapmyrun.com). I did see one road rager try to run five bikers off the road (he honked his horn and yelled at them). Maybe he sat behind me at the football game.

This afternoon at cross country, Will PR'd again, running a mile in 6:40. I love watching him and Kathryn run. Kathryn always seems to run her best times toward the end of the season, and she's probably not fully recovered from her hospital visit. I'm proud of both of them for being active and determined to do better, whether they've had a good day or not.

Speaking of good days, Dori seems to be having them. She's very tired from the chemo but still not feeling other side effects, which is great. I'm feeling better, now that the stay at Vanderbilt is behind us.

We move on.

Church Is Good

2010-09-06T10:00:00.005-05:00

I've been a little down and frustrated lately. The cancer thing can wear on you. I hadn't been to church in weeks, which is not good. But I was scheduled to read last night, so we all went, including Dori. It was her first time in church since early summer.

Mass was wonderful. For me, it was the readings, especially Wisdom 9:13-18b and Luke 14:25-33; for Dori, it was being there and two favorite communion songs, You Are Mine and On Eagle's Wings.

I needed comfort and instruction, and found some at Mass. In his homily, Deacon Jim explained the Luke reading so well, breaking down the hyperbole Jesus used in telling followers they must "hate" their families and shun their possessions so as not let them come between them and God. We'd never grasped that before. My reading from the Book of Wisdom is self-explanatory: Who can conceive what the Lord intends? Not here, not now. We must trust, hard as it can be.

The bike continues to be my friend. I rode 27 Saturday morning, eight with Will and three with Kathryn yesterday, and 22 this morning. Sixty miles of our hilly, beautiful town in perfect weather. My friend Al and I tailgated Saturday with my boss and his wife and then watched Vanderbilt lose a squeaker 23-21 to Northwestern. Our entire family loves college football, and here's just one reason why. As big and hyped as the sport has become, there is joy in watching teams play and laugh like this SEC group. Hilarious!

Dori reenters Vanderbilt tomorrow afternoon. She will receive her PICC line, and then it's back to 11 North. We are praying for a no-frills stay, with two days of consolidation chemo and shortly thereafter a return home for more recovery.

The Luxury of Peace and Quiet

2010-08-29T19:26:00.008-05:00

After a long but productive work week, I joined Dori at the cancer clinic Friday afternoon for our meeting about "the plan."

Unfortunately, Dori's counts were a little off (higher white blood cell, slightly lower platelets and red blood cell), so that has put us in a bit of limbo. Her doctor decided Friday to adjust some meds that may have caused the count ambiguities. We return Tuesday to see where her counts stand. If they are in the right ballpark, she might be scheduled for consolidation chemo in two weeks and then a reduced intensity transplant in late October or early November.

My hope late Friday was for a weekend of peace and relaxation. The complete opposite happened. Saturday morning, Will and I rode our bikes nine miles through beautiful farmland. It was great, but my phone rang twice toward the end. Kathryn didn't feel well, Dori said. She was getting sick often.

I arrived home, thinking our girl had a stomach virus. She was in rough shape for hours and spent most of the afternoon in the bathroom. Behind our house, some neighbors who have been partying like frat boys all summer finally went over the top ... their music and chatter was supersonic. I called the police, and encouraged other neighbors to join me. Perturbed, I needed a siesta, so Dori told me to get back on the bike. I rode another 12 very hilly miles. When I returned home, the neighbor's noise had abated but another task remained. Kathryn felt worse.

At 5 p.m., I took Kathryn to the emergency room at Vanderbilt's Children's Hospital. The waiting room was chaos, with one baby raging for 90 minutes straight while we waited. After a two-hour wait, they put us in a room near the raging baby, of course.

During the constant screaming, I processed what could be wrong with Kathryn. Appendicitis? Girl issues? A bad virus? Her counts showed an elevated white blood cell count, and you can imagine I needed a doctor NOW to tell me her other counts were ok. He arrived, and said they were. Whatever the diagnosis would be, I could now deal.

My sister brought me dinner and a bagel for Kathryn, once they cleared her to eat. The raging baby stayed at it most of the night. I told myself over and over bad things always end, and this would, too.

They never figured out for sure what was wrong with Kathryn. She was so dehydrated she needed four IV bags of fluid. An ultrasound showed a possible cist on her ovary that may have ruptured. We left the hospital at 3:15 in the morning, a 10-hour stay. We didn't sleep at all, and I spent today napping and feeling out of sorts. I still feel way off, as if severely jet lagged. Kathryn feels better, just very sore and exhausted like me.

I needed some good news today. Late today, as I slept and recovered, Will ran his first cross-country meet of the year. My Mom and sister cheered him as he ran his personal best, a 6:45 mile, and posted his best finish, 13th place, while competing against older kids in the 6th grade level. After the summer he's endured, it was nice to see his smile tonight, which helped me tremendously.

At some point, I will find much needed peace and quiet. For now, that is not my life. This weekend's positive? My family may be down a bit and on edge a fair amount, but we are intact.

G & Ts

2010-08-24T19:30:00.011-05:00

Dori's complete cytogenetics report is in, and we learned her marrow has no abnormalities. Great news! Donor DNA is 97%, while Dori's DNA is 3%. We'll likely receive a doctors' proposal late Friday.

I bought a hybrid bike Saturday to keep pace with Will. The bike I had been riding was too small and bad for my back. I love my new ride, a simple seven-speed that's a cross between a mountain bike and road bike.

Will and I rode 10 flat miles Saturday, 15 hilly miles Sunday morning and five tonight after dinner. I ran three with Pepper this morning, when we finally had the first true whiff of fall air. Tonight, it feels like 60 even though it's 80.

It's been fun scaling some of the challenging hills in our neighborhood. Will is getting more confident on the bike and stronger each ride. The best purchase of 2010 has been his new bike.

Speaking of scaling hills, Dori walked a mile on the treadmill today. This is a quantum leap from even last week when five minutes of uneven walking was an accomplishment. Her rash is essentially gone, as is the itching. Knee pain from the steroids also abated.

We've had some fairly feisty moments as a family the last week. My take is it's been a dash of post traumatic stress syndrome. Fighting siblings with excessive drama, crankiness, and an unfiltered comment or two. We've all had some moments, and I've been no saint.

The tonic? Actually, an overnight business trip helped. I needed some air, and so did the family. I guess the bike has been the gin.

The Oddity of Odds

2010-08-20T05:05:00.006-05:00

Hans appears to have done his thing. Now that Dori is in remission, which we learned yesterday, we get a real break and much better outlook.

Throughout this journey, we've been given or seen percentages. Three years ago, Dori read she had a 21% chance of five-year survival with AML. Last month when she didn't reach remission, we were told the graft vs. leukemia effect she needed had a 10% to 25% chance of occurring.

My wife is mathmatically inclined. Her brain likes numbers and analyses. I come more from the other side of the brain. Tell me something isn't likely or possible, and I'll do what I can to prove you're wrong.

Odds don't mean jack squat to me. Hell, we're Vanderbilt fans, we know what being an underdog is. Every situation is different, and the oddsmakers don't know what we're up to or what we're doing.

Let me tell you about Liz, part of our wonderful team. Dori's roommate in college and sorority sister, Liz remains a very close friend. Liz has called or texted me almost every day since Dori's relapse. Some days, when I'm exhausted or behind, I think about skipping a day of catching up with Liz. That would be a mistake.

Liz the Great has made a point to keep about 10 sorority sisters across the country informed about Dori. In July, these fine ladies pooled resources and bought Dori the iPad she loves. Because Liz is keeping their close-knit group well informed, Dori receives several e-mails a day from them on the iPad they gave her. They are part of a connected team that keeps Dori thinking and moving. Oddsmakers don't know about Liz and those women in Atlanta, North Carolina and elsewhere.

There are many other special people who are in the foxhole with us. Of course, our families. Dori's boss is a blood cancer survivor and great guy. My friends Jim and Heather from Team in Training communicate often with Dori. Sweet Mariesa and Mary Belle are extraordinary cheerleaders. Our friends from the kids' school are amazing ... Melissa, Elizabeth, Kathy, David and Mona, Wendy and Rob, and the list goes on. We are surrounded by many big-hearted people, too many to list, who approach this challenge like we do. The odds can kiss our asses.

I'm relieved right now, but not euphoric. I'm not even registering in the middle of the Happy Meter. Underneath, I'm really glad we're in a meadow, alive with flowers and chirping birds after a soothing rain. But I'm staying reserved, I think, for several reasons.

I know this isn't over. I know I better not get giddy, or jinx losing the momentum. I'm not superstitious, I think, though I do always put the first shoe on my left foot and never step on the third base line. As a friend said yesterday, you know what you guys are dealing with, so that's why your enthusiasm is reserved. True, but even I've surprised myself with the temperate reaction.

It's a strange feeling, strange place, yet good at the same time. It certainly beats the alternative.

Relief

2010-08-17T18:23:00.004-05:00

Our family received the news we wanted late today. Preliminary results indicate Dori's marrow shows an improving picture. We'll get flow cytometry results in a day or two, which will give a more complete picture and confirm the preliminaries. Our Caringbridge site (look left for the link) has more information.

For now, please join me in a group "phew."

The word Dori keeps using is "relief." I don't feel anything but relief. Not calm, not joy, not happiness quite yet. Just relief, like Dori. I imagine I'll let loose with tears and other emotions, but I'm probably waiting for final results before progressing. Dori already had herself a serious cry.

Dori looks great. My sister, Mom and I can't get over the rapid turnaround in Dori's energy, appetite and appearance. A few weeks ago, I was catching Dori in my arms in the darkness of our hospital room, when she blacked out several times from the teardown of chemo. Then, Dori was in awe of her appearance and condition, removing exfoliating skin to pass the time, fixated on her swollen right eye, and continually applying special lotions and cremes to soothe her aching, purple and rashing skin. She ate little, doing well to consume a third of her normal diet. Did I leave out anything? You had to be there. Be glad you weren't.

Thankfully, Dori was surrounded by the A Team. My Mom, sister Anne, Dori's sister Kathy and several close friends stood watch when I wasn't there. Collectively, with the help of great staff, and I mean great, we helped Dori pass a major test. But Dori had to do the hard work. We just had to do what we could and we watched in awe.

It would appear we will advance to the next round. Clarity will arrive when it arrives. Until then, please join me as I toss back a glass of our finest.

Hot Tomato

2010-08-14T18:05:00.005-05:00

This afternoon's heat index was 109 degrees. And like A Flock of Seagulls, the stupid kind, I ran.

Flushed and hot at mile two, despite working frozen water over my neck and forehead, I altered my plans. My six miler became a combo run-hike, amounting to four miles. The heat wave is supposed to break soon - and it better - before my language deteriorates.

Dori has had some good days. This morning, she woke early to make waffles. Will was fired up ... he loves his Mom's waffles. Kathryn went with my wonderful Mom and sister Anne to the infamous East Nashville Tomato Art Festival. Anne sent the following picture of Mom, which she titled appropriately, "Hot Tomato."

Our good friend and Will's godfather Al stopped by this morning for a visit, while our good friend Kathy dropped off dinner this afternoon. Dori is eating well and looking better every day. Her counts are good, and she's smiling and sounding like Dori. A few weeks ago seem like years ago. Time does funny things when you're pointing a ship through a hurricane.

Dori's bone marrow biopsy is scheduled for Tuesday morning. Until then, we're chillin' in the steamin' stew that's known as the Deep South in August. We are LOVING the break.

Prayerful Haiku

2010-08-13T21:12:00.000-05:00

Will you join me?

Graft, Hans take control.
My girl needs your power pull.
Love, hope be alive.

Sisters in Arms

2010-08-11T20:26:00.004-05:00

I have enjoyed being at work the last two days. It's been a glimpse of normalcy.

I've also enjoyed watching Dori eat and sleep well. Man, does she deserve that. She's looking better each day, and I know she's enjoyed having her Dad here. The reprieve and company have been welcome.

Screw running in this weather. At 8:30 this evening, it's 90 degrees with a "feels like" of 99. Sheesh. Who wants to run in that? I'm glad I ran 10 last weekend and rode the bike Monday with Will. For now, I'll wait a few more days for weather that's not ridiculous.

Tonight, Dori spoke with a friend from her brief teaching career who has been diagnosed with non-Hodgkins lymphoma. The conversation, the side I heard, was palpable. I could see the emotion, however, on both sides. Dori encouraged her friend with perfect words only a fellow combatant can offer. Dori's next clinic visit is Friday, and she'll see her friend there.

It looks like Dori will have a biopsy mid week and then we'll get a plan proposal. The kids start school tomorrow, and we're glad. They need some routine, though they've been fairly active this summer. I will say we have too many electronic devices in our house. Way too many.

Home

2010-08-08T10:25:00.006-05:00

Dori returned home late yesterday afternoon. She cried on the way home, reflecting on the last month of hell she endured. Who wouldn't?

We then had to wait an hour at the pharmacy for seven meds. They only had four and we had to have one last night. After four phone calls and plenty of waiting, the needed medication was procured by someone special. Last night, my sister drove to the hospital to pick up and deliver to our house.

Dori spent last night in our oversized chair watching TV with Will, gobbling up chicken and rice (and an ice cream sandwich!), and telling our dog Pepper she missed him and loves him. I played some of her favorite songs, "Whenever I Call You Friend," among them. We love the line, "In every moment there's a reason to carry on," in particular these days. I tossed back some French rose and soaked up the scene.

Yesterday morning at the hospital, I rose before dawn for a run, my first in five days. I had considered a 10-miler with running buddies, but didn't pursue for two reasons - I needed to be with Dori and I'm not in good enough shape to jump to that mileage and have a sane day. Yesterday included plenty of packing, unloading and cleaning.

So I ran 4.5 glorious miles in the best weather we've had in a month. A cold front dropped the humidity and temperature into the high 60s. I couldn't help but think the relieving conditions were commensurate with Dori's pending hospital discharge. I returned to Dori's room before 6:30, and began the all-day process of checking her out of prison, I mean, the hospital.

Dori is a favorite of the nurses and care partners, because she treats them the way they deserve ... like superstar royalty. I cannot imagine Dori or I getting through this marathon without their support. They just know how to keep patients like Dori and caregivers like me moving forward, and they rose to the occasion at some tense moments, particularly when Dori was blacking out and flashing some feisty GVHD-related rashes. The best of America works in the hardest of environments, and we are fortunate because of it.

We're in the clinic this morning, and they are just as solid here. One of the nurses said, "So you were upstairs for 30 days. Wow." Another just said something similar.

Yes, wow. But for now, some welcome freedom has been restored.

Little Birdie

2010-08-04T11:58:00.005-05:00

This morning, my daughter called me at the hospital and excitedly said, "Dad, we have a hummingbird!"

Let me share what this means to me. In April, I put out a hummingbird feeder, anticipating last year's hummingbird would return soon thereafter. May, June and July passed, and no hummingbird. I've thought about moving the feeder. Once, I pondered taking it down, a thought I quickly dismissed with an inward tongue-lashing.

Now that we have our new visitor, I am glad we were patient. To have given up hope would have been counterproductive. These days, I'm frustrated at times and often tired, keeping up with so many, many things. But I won't succumb to hopelessness.

Damn, it's good to have that hummingbird in our yard!

When It's Hot

2010-07-30T07:33:00.005-05:00

Some people love the summer. Not me.

When it's scorching hot - 90s and heat indices around 105 - it's hard to enjoy yourself. During normal summers, I run early in the morning, and even then, running isn't as enjoyable as in the fall or winter.

This, of course, hasn't been a normal summer, like 2007 when Dori was diagnosed with AML and we had a record heat wave. I run when I can, and sometimes it's in the heat of the day. This week, I've run twice - 4.5 miles in the late afternoon with Will, who followed me on his new mountain bike and 4 miles at midday in Percy Warner Park. The frozen water I carried melted completely.

So how and why do I do this? Because the alternative is worse. It relieves stress and keeps me going. It helps me be a better caregiver, father and part-time pseudo-Mom. It also enables me to relate to Dori, in a strange way. She's been pushing through the dark fog and pain from chemo, which seems never-ending. That's how I look at this heat wave - seemingly never-ending. But it will end, despite the fact the 10-day forecast wants me to think otherwise.

Sometime in early September, the morning temperature will be 65 instead of 75. A spell later, a dry cold front with soothing winds will rush through the Tennessee Valley, stirring the leaves and signaling change. Likewise, soon Dori's chemo fog will lift, her blood counts will rise and her strength will rebound.

This morning, her doctor said she has a small amount of neutrophils, a sign her body is preparing to defend itself on its own. A nagging rash around the eye is on the mend. Her itching is almost gone and rash is down. Yesterday, she rode the bike for 20 minutes and walked a quarter mile, her first exercise in a week.

I continue to remind Dori it's the trend, not the moment, that matters, and we're both going to enjoy better times. Like Lance's quote, if you don't have hope then what other choice is there?

Hall Quotes

2010-07-29T08:08:00.009-05:00

Encased on the 11th floor at Vanderbilt Medical Center, where Dori is being treated, is a collage of inspirational quotes. Here are two favorites:

“If children have the ability to ignore all odds and percentages, then maybe we can all learn from them.
When you think about it, what other choice is there but to hope?
We have two options, medically and emotionally: give up, or Fight Like Hell.”

Lance Armstrong

“Ability is what you're capable of doing.
Motivation determines what you do.
Attitude determines how well you do it.”

Lou Holtz

Time for Hans and Persistent Prayer

2010-07-26T18:47:00.005-05:00

We learned Friday Dori's leukemia was not in remission. To say the least, this was difficult to hear, but the next 48 hours wouldn't be any easier. Dori's blood counts hit their lows, her full-body rash and right eye infection intensified, her blood pressure went very low and her fever rollercoaster went on wild swings.

Dori fell at 3 a.m. Saturday morning, but luck was with her ... somehow, she did not hit her head. During her transplant in 2007, Dori fell in the shower one morning when her blood pressure plummetted under the warm water. It was a nasty fall, one I'll never forget. We posted a 24-hour watch then, and we had posted watch when she fell early Saturday.

I knew things weren't right early Saturday evening. Dori had wondered when the intestinal issues might surface, and they did late Saturday. I stayed awake, knowing bathroom trips would be frequent and Dori would need a spotter. At 10:30 Saturday night, she completely blacked out but I was there. I caught her, and the night nurse was luckily right there too in a flash. It was 20 minutes of chaos, but we got through. I cannot tell you how awesome the staff was that night.

Late Sunday, Dori seemed to be recovering. Indeed, her counts were up this morning and her vitality, though low, is trending the right way. She is constantly itching and uncomfortable, and pain comes in waves. She is bearing a cross with uncommon grace and determination. Dori's sister Kathy and I are constant supporters, sharing whatever wisdom we can muster, reading her e-mails and CaringBridge posts ... just whatever we can do. With my sister Anne, the three of us will be on day and night watch for the foreseeable future.

We need Hans, Dori's unknown donor, in a big way. We hope he's getting busy, stirring up a graft vs. leukemia effect. Right now, more chemo is not in the cards.

Dori's leukemia is called "persistent" by her doctors, but so are the prayers around Nashville, the Southeast and our country. The outpouring of love and prayer has been phenomenal, bolstering Dori, our family and dear friends. Blessings to you all. Go, Hans, go.

Now, the Waiting

2010-07-21T16:46:00.004-05:00

Dori's biopsy is done. This one was rougher than normal because they didn't hit paydirt at first and had to go in twice. Dori endured a lot of pain and discomfort. The last day has been rough for my bride. We'll know results perhaps Friday afternoon or Monday, we're told.

Big picture, which I keep telling Dori and myself, is she is doing well. Her fever is gone and her PICC line looks great. She is eating well and staying unbelievably active through a haze of drugs and significant fatigue. She rode the bike less than two hours after they pulled marrow for her tailbone. How many guys can do that?

No caregiver likes watching this, honestly. Dori's right eye is swollen, like Rocky's. Her hair is falling out, which no woman enjoys. She has a rash on her back and stomach from an adverse drug reaction. She is wobbly from all the drugs and struggles to remember things. You get the picture. Chemo and cancer suck turnip roots.

I have relied on my son's advice ... There's no reason for anger because you can't blame anyone for this. My dream a few weeks ago, in which Chuck Hendry told me to be calm and take care of Dori, helps. Prayers for peace help. Extinguishers keep the flames at bay.

I'm blessed to have an inner circle that keeps things going for Dori, the kids and me. We'll wait for the biopsy results and get ready for the next round. Negative, clean, remission ... that would be the preference!

Here's a photo of the kids, with our dog Pepper and our nanny's puppy Joey. We're so proud of Kathryn and Will. Fittingly, when Dori powers up her new iPad, they are there to provide a motivating greeting.

Reporting from 11 North

2010-07-19T19:39:00.005-05:00

Tonight, I'm spending the night with Dori. She's been alone only twice (last weekend) the last 10 nights or so. Her sister Kathy was here five nights, then her Dad for a night, then me Friday night.

Dori appreciates the company because we know when to chatter and when to zip it. Close companionship isn't always about conversation. Today has been a day for chatter. Dori isn't happy she ran a 100.6 fever, and her right eye is bothering her. I'm Captain of Team Vent, and know when and how to get her to tug the steam whistle. "You're right ... It sucks. Get it out and let's not gravitate toward any pity." Unfortunately, we hold advanced degrees in Engine Cooling.

Dori hasn't been in a complain mode the last three years, or last three weeks for that matter. Today, she's just really weary of hospital crap, even though the staff continues to be helpful. She wants to be carting around our children in a van, asking about their day. Can't say I blame the thoughts. That's the goal, actually. Normalcy.

Early Saturday, I left the hospital to run with some Team In Training buddies ... Jim, Heather, Jack and others. After more than 3.5 miles, we broke off in separate groups. I ran the last half of 7.25 miles with Heather, whose mother is a multiple myeloma survivor. I enjoyed the run, my longest since April. Jim and the others finished minutes later, running between 8 and 10.

I ran another three this morning with Pepper, our great dog with an indomitable spirit. Yesterday afternoon before church, Will and I hopped on the bikes. Will loves his new mountain bike, which we purchased last week. Kathryn finally succeeded in lobbying for a cell phone. The timing for the bike and phone ... well, you know. Have at it, kids. Pedal and dial away with your friends.

I'm also reading a fair amount at night, and my Mom put out a nice spread for dinner Saturday night for Kathryn, my brother-in-law Stephen and me. I'm working full days and near full days. Do you see a pattern? Staying busy! The alternative is lousy.

It's been 19 days since Dori called me with her bad news. It seems like months ago. I remember the summer of 2007, when the concept of time disappeared. This summer is the same. Days seem shorter, because we're so busy, but weeks seem like months.

Taking It On

2010-07-14T09:06:00.006-05:00

I'm in a much better place now than last week. I couldn't smile or laugh much. Didn't want to even try.

But time, friends and perspective tend to heal the mind. The shock is gone, and the routine is here. Dori is doing well, and that's a huge help. She's asking about everyone, exercising and eating very well. Despite her fatigue, she's engaged. Her sister Kathy's presence has been a huge help.

I've picked up my running and reading. I ran 15 miles last week, and completed a six-miler Sunday in 92 degrees in Percy Warner Park (the hills were tough but the shade helped). I'm on my fourth book since vacation ended a few weeks ago, back when life was calm. I'm planning to run another marathon in December, and have alerted some running friends to let me know about early morning runs.

Dori insisted the kids go to Gilda's Club Monday night. She brought up the topic at least five times, and so, we went to Gilda's. The kids enjoyed it. I did, too, though I felt zapped when I got home. I won't mention names, but the group was amazingly brave and the discussion was no-holds barred. I listened to a cancer survivor who's getting divorced, a breast cancer survivor, a man whose wonderful wife recently passed away, a husband who is battling melanoma and his wife, a woman whose husband recently passed from colorectal cancer, the husband of a surviving wife who's battled a rare cancer, a woman whose young son's leukemia is in remission, a lymphoma survivor and his wife, and a dear petite lady who has been through so much chemo and radiation but has no fear and her husband. Her courage and talk of her walk with our Lord inspired me.

Gilda's Club, in a nutshell, reminds us we're not alone. I had upbringing that sent mixed messages on handling trouble. Camp One said problems are not to be discussed (keep your privacy, avoid any potential embarrassment or weakness exposure, etc.), while Camp Two said put things on the table.

Obviously, I picked the latter, and thank God I did, given what's been going on in my life. I'm not into the touchy feely so much, though I can go there. I'm more into being frank, candid, honest and real.

And that's where I've been the last week - getting back into the routine I didn't want and being honest with myself and others. This whole thing sucks, but I'm working to get back into shape and face it.