Bays honor fallen friend

This article also appears in the Sault News where it was originally published

By SCOTT CHURCH

For The Sault News

BRIMLEY – When we lose someone close to us, we latch onto anything we can think of to keep that person fresh in our hearts and our memories. It might be an article of clothing or a piece of jewelry, or in the case of a senior basketball player and his teammates, it might be an autograph on a pair of shoes.

Brimley high senior Brandon Mills was preparing for his big day. The seniors parade through the school's elementary and middle school wings prior to graduation to be celebrated by fellow students and the teachers who had taught these kids in their formative years. Brandon had been feeling tired in recent days and the walk through the school became too much for him. He had undergone some tests but results were inconclusive. Brandon was referred to Dr. Arrango for further testing.

The results were devastating. Brandon was diagnosed with leukemia and began treatment immediately. That was June 1. By June 18^th, Brandon was in the intensive care unit at Henry Ford Hospital in Detroit because the oral chemotherapy treatments were causing bleeding in his lungs . He was switched to intraveinious chemotherapy. The problem was fixed and Brandon was allowed to come home for a day here and there until a bone marrow transplant happened on August. 10. By September 22, there was no sign of the leukemia and on October 22, he came home to lead the team onto the football field and flip the coin prior to the game that night. On his facebook page, he wrote, in part.

“I was in remission and honestly, never felt better. I had the honor of walking the football team to the football field that I haven't stepped foot on in awhile, being allowed to flip the game coin and keep it.”

One of the reasons that that was so important to him was because of his friend Sean Hill. Sean and Brandon had a health class together as freshmen and became fast friends, joking with each other in class and relying on each other for help with the schoolwork.

“He was always giving me good advice,” Hill said. “Sometimes it was about sports and sometimes it was about life. But he always knew what to say.”

On November 1, Brandon returned to the hospital in Detroit for a post-transplant check-up and for the second time in his young life, Brandon received news that nobody wanted to hear. The leukemia was back and this time, it was worse. Brandon was given two weeks to live.

Hill found out about Brandon's prognosis at school as Brandon came in for a visit.

“He told me that they were giving him a week or two to live,” Sean said. “He told me during school but nobody knew yet so I had to go through the rest of the day like nothing was wrong. That was one of the hardest days of my life.”

Earlier in the process, Hill had gone to see Brandon at the hospital with an idea to honor his friend. He wanted to personalize his basketball shoes for the season in honor of Brandon. He used the orange color that represents the fight against leukemia and Brandon agreed.

On November 14, he came to the gym to say hi to Sean and the rest of the team. Sean had already put Brandon's initials on his shoes, and it soon turned into a Brandon Mills signature when he saw them. Soon, Brandon was experiencing writer's cramp as every other member of the team asked him to sign theirs too.

“They saw him signing my shoes and thought it would be a cool idea,” Hill said. “We dedicated our season to him and it's been going pretty good so far.”

On November 18^th at 12:53 p.m., he took his last breath, surrounded by family, just four days after signing the shoes.

“I had my hand on his chest and felt him take his last breath,” his sister Jessica, who was kind enough to provide a timeline for this story, said. “I felt his heart beat for the last time.”

Sean has done a lot of reflecting on his time with Brandon and about some of the things that Brandon would tell him.

“He would always say that things happened for a reason, and he said it even after he knew how little time he had left,” Sean said. “I could never understand how he could feel like that.”

“I think about him all the time,” he continued. The shoes are a constant reminder. I also have an orange bracelet that I wear for him under my shooting sleeve. I try to focus on the game, but after, I look at what I did wrong and what Brandon would tell me about it.”

The Bays will start the district tournament on Monday in Engadine and whether their run lasts one game or seven, Brandon will be with Sean and the boys every step of the way.

Literally.

Four Years And a Day

Four years and a day ago, I lay on the operating table for over six hours to remove the cancerous tumor from the lower part of my colon. There are days when it seems like a distant memory and days when it seems like yesterday.

Last night (Saturday) I and some of our friends and Kelly's parents surprised her with a small birthday dinner gathering in Brimley. Saturday morning, we were going different directions because of my freshman basketball game and Abbie's travel basketball game in Newberry. I thought I had it planned out perfectly. While we're getting ourselves ready, Kelly suggests that we go to Gaylord, get a hotel room and use the pool and hot tub since we were planning to go down there the next morning anyway. I am in a full-blown panic at this point, trying to figure out a way to say no to Gaylord and come up with a reason why.

Any other night and I would have been in the car before she finished her suggestion because I like to do stuff like that and she knows it. I thought she must have been on to me because she doesn't usually suggest things like that. So, I'm wondering why, WHY of all nights, she suggested Saturday night to go and do this.

Even when we got to dinner, I still had it in the back of my mind that she must have seen the texts between me and my co-conspiritors and was just messing with me on Gaylord.

I finally figured it out after dinner. And by figured it out, I mean I found out because Kelly told me. We had a round of shots and Kelly toasted everyone for being there. During the toast, she said that in addition to this being a good day because of of our get-together, it was also a good day because it was four years ago to the day that I had my surgery. She got a little emotional when she said that and I was completely stunned. We had had about a two second conversation about this being the anniversary of my surgery, but it was pretty brief and I had forgotten all about it. What stunned me was that it was really a big deal to Kelly. I have tried to put it out of my mind as much as I could because I feel like I have enough reminders in my every day life. But the fact that Kelly put so much value on the day made me re-think it a little bit.

A lot has happened in the four years since then, both good and bad. Some of the good things have been that we have graduated three kids in that time. We have added a pug to our four-legged family, and none of our kids have informed us that we are going to be grandparents. (knocking on wood).

On the other side of the coin, I lost my grandma last year in early January. I can't really get into that right now because, somehow, it hasn't really hit me yet. I can still hear her voice in my head sometimes and part of me died when she did. Kelly lost her grandmother as well. Kelly always loved to tell the story of how resourceful she was. When Kelly was a child, she was riding with her grandma and one of the tires came off the car. All the lugnuts were gone from the tire and Kelly's grandma had the presence of mind to take one lugnut off of each of the other tires to put the spare on and get home.

Also on the bad side of the coin, my ex-wife, the mother of my children passed away in August of 17. She left after going through a living hell for the past two-plus years. For those of you who don't know already, the breast cancer that she dealt with had moved into her brain without anyone knowing. She complained of weakness and pain and she continually heard that it was just part of the recovery process. At Thanksgiving of 2015 it became apparent that there was something serious going on and we had a conversation about her going to the doctor and not leaving until they had agreed to do whatever tests it took to figure it out. They did the tests and found the tumor right before Christmas. I remember getting the phone call from her asking me to if I could pick Abbie up from school. She was sobbing, telling me about the tumor and she was so afraid that she was going to die. I told her that she was going to be fine and that we'd talk after she was done. I had no idea that that would be the last time we would ever speak actual words to each other. She told me that the local hospital had called and told her to come to the ER immediately. From there, she went to the hospital in Petoskey, where she was promised that she'd be home by Christmas and Andrew's birthday. The initial surgery went well, but her brain bled after and created a lot of swelling and pressure on the brain and a second surgery had to be performed immediately. Liz didn't regain consciousness for weeks and when she did, she was unable to move or even speak. She could respond with her eyes, but nothing else.

As weeks dragged into months, the kids were forced to watch their mother slowly wither and die as the improvements that were made were small and the cancer in her brain began to attack her again. She fought as hard as she could, but in the end, she lost the battle. All the kids were devastated, and Kelly and I cried for all of them. The worst though, was checking on Abbie before I left for work at night. Many nights I would stand at her door and watch her as she listened to an audio book recorded by her mother. It's a Winnie The Pooh story and Abbie would listen to it over and over at night.

She did see Andrew and Callie graduate high school, and I know that it meant the world to them and to her that she was able to see that.

That was what made the whole ordeal so frustrating for everyone. You could talk to her and look into her eyes and you know that she was aware of what was going on around her. She was trapped in there and just couldn't make her body do what she wanted so badly for it to do.

I know that it sounds like I'm getting a little sidetracked, but I think it's important for a couple of reasons. The first is that this sort of explains the reason that I don't go to cancer survivor stuff. We donate to different cancer fighting causes, but I don't like to be recognized for being a survivor because I didn't do anything special. I just lived. What happened to Liz or the thousands of other people who have lost to cancer could have happened to me. It just didn't.

The second is cancer isn't just about one person. It doesn't just affect you, it affects everyone around you. People have to do things for you because you can't do them yourself, and you have to rely on people for those things. Liz's cancer had an effect on all of us, and mine had an affect on more people than I can even name.

The kids came to live with us and it was an adjustment for all of us. We got another dog out of the deal too as Marsh joined the herd. We are only one pooch short of a basketball team now.

Liz and I were supposed to hate each other, I know. But we were actually better friends towards the end than we were while we were married, I think. That may seem weird, but that's just how it was.

There have been other changes in the past four years, but they seem small.

As I write this, Kelly, Abbie and I are sitting here watching the Grammy Awards and watching her watch all the singers that she listens to on Hits 1 is actually kind of fun. I can't say enough about the bravery and toughness she has shown through this whole process. At her mother's “funeral,” Abbie got up and said that she had some things she wanted to say. I had no idea what they were, or how she was going to get though it, but she had the whole room laughing and then in tears during her five minutes of talking about her mom.

I'm rambling now, which happens from time to time when I'm trying to figure out life.

The bottom line is that it's been four years and a day since I went under the knife for the first time, and I'm still here. One more year and I'll be officially be considered cancer-free. I'll be here for that too, and we'll see what changes the next year brings. Hopefully more good than bad.

I Will Win

Moving on

It is with a certain amount of excitement and just the smallest amount of regret that I will be ending this portion of my blog. Church's Chuckwagon will continue, but I will be changing the format a little and hopefully writing about some different, and more fun, topics. The small amount of regret stems from the fact that I know so many people who are still fighting the battle. I've said before that cancer is a stone cold killer, with no regard for anyone or anything. It can be beaten though, and we should all do all that we can to make sure that this disease is eradicated before it touches any more of our loved ones, because anyone who thinks that it can't happen to them or someone they love is kidding themselves. I know, because I was one of those people.

I had an appointment with my oncologist the other day and I was a little nervous going in. I had gotten a CT scan three months prior to this visit and the results showed a couple small spots on my lungs. It's not uncommon for cancer to spread through lymph nodes and I was sincerely hoping that this wasn't the case for me. My doctor said that it's pretty common for people in general to have “nodes” on their lungs and that it wasn't necessarily anything to be excited about at the moment. They were too small to do a biopsy on anyway, so he told me we'd have another CT scan before my next visit and see what there was to see.

That CT scan took place a couple weeks ago, and I had to wait a little more than a week to see my doctor for the results. I kept quiet about it because there was no point in raising an alarm that might turn out to be nothing, but inside, I was a nervous wreck waiting for the results of that scan.

It turns out that the nodes were not visible on the most recent scan and that all my numbers are still good. My oncologist told me that he didn't need to see me at three month intervals anymore and that our appointments would now be six months apart. This news, coupled with the fact that my surgeon said that my innards looked good enough that he didn't need to do another colonoscopy for three years, was music to my ears. It will always be something that I think about in the back of my head, but for now, the doctors are telling me that I'm in the clear.

I want to thank everyone who has read this blog for your well-wishes and your support. It has meant the world to Kelly and I. I would also like to tell all my friends who are still battling to please call on us if you need anything. This thing is not meant to be fought alone.

I Have Won

Ready-set-GO…and GO… and GO…

It’s been a long time since I’ve posted anything on here, but in all honesty, there hasn’t been much to report and that’s mainly what I’ve been using this blog for. I have been getting bloodwork done every three months and meeting with my oncologist and my family doctor after these blood tests to make sure that my numbers are still good. Some are good, such as the numbers that indicate whether my body is trying to amass white blood cells to fight off a tumor. Some, such as my weight and my sugar, remain a work in progress.

 

I just had a colonoscopy on Friday. This was the first look in there since just before I had my ostomy removed on September 22 of last year. I was nervous, but just like I knew that the doctor was going to find cancer the first time around, I knew somehow that this one was going to come back clean. They did find a polyp and it was removed, but the doctor told me that it was not near the original site and did not look suspicious. They are having it sent out for testing, but he told me there was a 95 percent chance that it was nothing to worry about.

 

I don’t know how many of you reading this have ever had a colonoscopy, and before I go any further with this, I fully recommend that you have one. I have been through a lot of tests and “procedures” since this whole thing started, and while the idea of someone running a piece of rubber tubing with a camera, blower, and a razor attached to it into your innards is not pleasant (especially considering the point of entry), it is probably the least uncomfortable thing that they do.

 

They give you a gallon jug with some powder in it to get you started. You mix the powder with water and start drinking. Eight ounces every 10 minutes until half of the jug is gone. Don’t be any more than 10 feet from a bathroom during this process, because once that laxative starts to work, it works fast and often, and does exactly what it’s supposed to do, which is to remove everything from your body that isn’t connected to something in there.

 

Kelly and I checked into our hotel in Farmington Hills at about 3:30 on Thursday and I mixed the stuff up and started drinking. She was incredibly supportive through the process by going to Meijer’s for a couple hours because nothing really cements that bond between husband and wife like the sound of a faucet running behind a closed bathroom door and a grown man whining “not again” as the laxative does its job.

 

Another part of the instructions for the procedure are that you can only eat (drink) clear liquids the day before. And really, once you start taking that horrible tasting drink mix, you don’t want to eat anyway.

 

After that part’s over, it’s time for bed. Our hotel was a really nice place with a little kitchenette and stove, and even a dishwasher. It would have been really good for a stay of a few nights. The only thing wrong with it was that our window had a very nice view of the freeway (96) and traffic never stops on that road, regardless of the hour. Our pug snores, but it doesn’t have anything on a tractor trailer running by your window at 75 miles an hour at 3:30 a.m.

 

Not that there was a lot of sleep going on anyways. I said I knew that the result was going to be good, but in the back my head, I wondered. Does even thinking that kind of stuff jeopardize the result? I’m a bit superstitious, and hate it when sports announcers say dumb stuff like “This hitter’s never gotten a hit off Justin Verlander” while he’s in the middle of a no-hitter. Expressing a belief regarding an event before that event’s taken place seemed an awful lot like jinxing the no-no.

 

Then, what if I’m wrong this time? That damn Tim McGraw song “Live like you were dying” starts running through your head and before you know it, you’re trying to figure out in your head how you’re going to break the bad news to people.

 

This, as I said before, is completely ridiculous because I already knew how it was going to turn out.

After the colonoscopy, we met my brother for lunch in Fenton and went back to his place for a little while. It turns out that the Sault High football team was playing in Lake Fenton that night, which was just a few miles from Clay’s house. I talked to Rob at The Evening News and agreed to cover the game for them since we were going to be there anyway. The Sault lost the game, but it was a good one, and it was a beautiful night for football. We drove home to the Sault after the game because my youngest daughter was playing in her first organized basketball game on Saturday morning at Sault High. It made for a long night, but the good news earlier in the day made it seem more like date night than six-hour drive night.

 

Kelly did most of the driving because I was not supposed to be behind the wheel for a while due to being knocked out earlier in the day. We switched around Grayling though at about 11:30 p.m. and I drove the rest of the way home. Kelly fell asleep shortly after that and it made for some good reflection time for me.

 

One of the things I thought about was a conversation that I had with a friend of mine at work. She has known a few different people who have suffered with cancer and the results for these people have been mixed. She was frustrated by the “prayers to you and your family” comments that were being posted on someone else’s Facebook page who is suffering from cancer way more severe than anything I’ve had to deal with.

 

“Why would God let that happen in the first place?” she asked me “I mean, why pray at all, if he’s going to let stuff like that happen to good people?”

 

I didn’t have an answer for you then my friend, and I don’t have one now. Even after deliberating it during the drive. I think that’s a question you could ask a hundred different people and get almost as many different answers. What I would tell you is this. Read a book called “The Shack.” I wish I could remember the author’s name, but I can’t. My son read it and recommended it to me. I always read stuff that the kids recommend to me because I’m interested in things that grab their attention enough to tell me about them, or especially recommend them. I’m not sure it answers the questions that you asked, but it does provoke some thought, and it does touch on those topics.

 

So, anyway, back to the original topic. The colonoscopy turned out good enough that I don’t have to have another one for three years. I will continue to work on the weight and the sugar and I will win that battle too.

Brent Koschtial

Yesterday, I was looking at facebook when I suddenly felt like I had been slapped in the face.  I read a post by someone and had to read it again.  And then a third time.  I thought for sure that I had read it wrong.  Sadly, I hadn't. 


Brent Koschtial had passed away.


For those of you reading this that are from Roscommon, you don't need me to tell you who Brent was. I can't say that I knew Brent very well, but I think it affects you when someone you know dies, even if you only knew them in passing.  If, at any point in your life, you had a conversation with that person, you feel it just a little bit more. (At least, that's how it is for me.)


Brent was a year younger than me, and that's another reason that it kind of makes you stop and think about it.  You immediately want to know how it happened.  You think back to the memories you have of the person and, depending on how well you knew them, you think of their family and what they must be going through.


Brent has an older brother and sister.  I graduated with Vanessa, and Dan was a couple years older than me.  Like I said, I didn't know Brent as well as a lot of people did, but several things I did know about him are that he was a good looking kid and he was extremely intelligent.  He was well liked and he had a quick wit.  We played varsity baseball together and Brent used to throw a knuckle-curve ball a lot in batting practice.  Brent was also his own guy.  He didn't get badgered into doing things he didn't want to do, and felt no pressure to do things for the sake of popularity.  This trait was shared by all three of the Koschtial kids.


One memory I have of Brent is that one day I wanted to go to one of the football games, but knew if I went home to St. Helen after school, I wasn't going to have any way to get back for the game.  I had decided that I'd just stay at the school and kill time until the game.  Brent invited me back to his house with him to have dinner before the game.  He lived really close to the school and we walked to his house and then walked back to the game later that evening.  It was a really nice thing of him to do and one that I've always remembered.


I'm sure that Vanessa and Dan would appreciate it if you shared any memories or stories that you have involving Brent. 


 

One Year Later

Everyone has dates in their lives that they will remember forever. Anniversarys, birthdays, personal milestones and the like. Sometimes the events that spark these memories are happy occasions, and other times they are not. Either way, we remember. September has several dates that are significant for me. I was married on September 9^th, my brother Clay's birthday is September 4^th, and who can forget the tragic events that occurred on September 11^th. There's also one other September date that stands out for me.

One year ago today, I found myself lying in a hospital bed in War Memorial Hospital and seeing my wife's eyes lined with tears as she told me that the doctor had found cancer inside me during a colonoscopy. The last year has been a long, arduous ordeal, full of discomfort and frustration.

Despite what I've gone through, I've learned some valuable lessons about myself and about life in general. I've learned what it's like to have someone in my life who genuinely cares more about my well being than her own, and I've learned that the world doesn't stop just because you're going through something.

On Monday, I will return to Detroit Henry Ford Hospital for what will hopefully be the final procedure in my story. The surgery will be to reverse the ostoemy that was put on me during the first surgery. I can't tell you how much I'm looking forward to not having that thing attached to me any more.

I had an “interesting” episode at work on Friday night because of it. I was sitting at my desk and I smelled something bad. I couldn't figure out what it was at first. Then I looked down and noticed the wet spot on the front of my shirt. At that point I knew what the smell was. The seal on the ostoemy bag had broken and it was leaking. I went to the staff bathroom to see if I could get cleaned up and stay at work. The reason I wanted to stay was because there was a holiday in the pay period. We get paid time and a half for the holiday unless we use any kind of leave during the pay period. If I left, I would have to use sick leave which would nullify my holiday pay. We can also comp the holiday, which was what I had planned to do to build up time for my surgery. Leaving cost me the six hours for the rest of the night, plus the 12 hours that I would have gotten for the holiday. Anyway, when I got to the bathroom, I shut the door and flipped on the light switch only to find out that the light bulb was gone. I had to walk back down to the office and get a flashlight and head back down to the bathroom, none of which was helping my situation. By the time I had gotten back to the bathroom, the bag was nearly completely off and I knew that there was no way I'd be able to stay the rest of the night. And cleaning myself up with essentially a nightlight on was no picnic either. I did the best I could and left. It was a fairly embarrassing ordeal. I had to get my wife out of bed when I got home to help me change the bag and then I had to take a shower. Luckily this kind of thing has only happened the one time in a public setting, and let me tell you, once is enough for me.

Something kind of funny just happened as I was writing this. I have been watching a show on Ed. It was on NBC a few years ago. I never watched the show while it was actually running, but I have been watching the episodes on You Tube. The premise of the show is that Ed loses his job at a New York City contract law firm and when he goes home to tell his wife about it, he finds her in bed with the mailman. He moves back home and ends kissing the girl that he pined for in high school. He kisses her at the bowling alley and decides to buy it because he believes it's some kind of sign. He opens his own law practice and works out of the bowling alley. There are a lot of things about the show that I like. I won't bore you with what draws me to the show, but I will tell you that I have no desire to be a lawyer or run a bowling alley. Anyway, I digress. The thing about the episode I was watching is Ed has a client who wants a name change and when asked why, he replies “life is too short to be someone that you don't want to be.” Along with the name change, he changes his look completely. Ed suspects there is more to the story and decides to go on a stakeout with Carol. They follow the man but nothing is revealed. Later in the episode, a woman comes to visit Ed and claims to be the man's wife. She tells Ed that her husband was recently diagnosed with terminal cancer and when he was told about it he simply said to the doctor, “you have the wrong guy.” He changed his name, his look and tried to leave his life behind completely in an effort to avoid the reality of his situation. That was a pretty creative solution. His name was George Murphy, and he became Rick Van Stratton. The show ends with George (Rick) coming to his senses and going back to his wife to spend what little time that had left together. Luckily, my situation is not that dire, but if I were to change my name, I think I'd change it to hmmmm, that's harder than I thought. I'm taking suggestions for what I could change my name to. Certain people are not allowed to submit suggestions, and you all know who you are.

With any luck, my cancer story is nearing its end. One more surgery, and one CT scan. I've always said that hopefully by Christmas this will all be nothing but a funny story and a memory. I don't know how funny the story will end up being, but it there's no doubt in my mind that I'll never forget it.

I Will Win

Mowing grass and taking names

Note: This entry was meant to be posted on August 27th, but that didn't quite happen. So when I refer to the weekend, it does not mean Labor Day weekend, but the weekend prior

Have you ever heard of the phenomenon in which something you remembered as being huge as a child looks significantly smaller as an adult? Things like a creek that look like a mere trickle of water as an adult or a Little League field that looked huge as a kid that now seem barely more than a fenced in infield? I experienced the opposite of this over the weekend. My Grandma’s yard has always been big, but I used to mow it with the tractor when I was a kid and it always seemed to go pretty quickly. Kelly, the kids and I went down there this past weekend to take care of the yards and it seemed more like mowing a hay field than a lawn.

My grandma is 91 years old and has had both hips replaced. She has a hard time getting around as it is and lately it’s gotten worse. She is very stubborn and insists that she doesn’t need to use a walker or anything other than a cane. She has fallen a couple times in the past few weeks and after the most recent one, she started having some severe pain in her right hip. My mom and aunt took her to the emergency room in West Branch and were essentially turned away after being told that nothing was wrong and that it was arthritis. The pain continued and got worse. They went back to West Branch and this time, the same doctor that shut them down the first time prescribed some pain killers that didn’t work. They did take x-rays but they didn’t reveal any broken bones so nothing was done. My grandma was in enough pain to want to go to the ER and then to be admitted into the hospital. She is a pretty tough old lady who enjoys a trip to the doctor about as much as most of us enjoy a good rectal exam (personal experience speaking there).

From there it was a trip to her family doctor. He knows Grandma better and knows that she wouldn’t complain unless the pain was pretty severe. He ordered an MRI at West Branch which they promptly scheduled….9 FREAKING DAYS LATER! Don’t worry about that pain Grandma. I’m sure the next nine days of agony will go by quickly. Idiots.

My mom got on the phone with Grayling Mercy Hospital and got the MRI scheduled the next day. The results just came in on Monday. She has been diagnosed with Spinal Stenosis. This (I have been told), is a narrowing of the spinal column. What has happened is that a nerve has been pushed outside the spinal column and is now being pinched as the column continues to narrow. This is causing the pain. She has been referred to a neurosurgeon. I’m not sure what the cure is for this or even if there is one. Because of her age, surgery is kind of out of the question, so hopefully there’s a therapy or something that can provide some relief.

Probably the only people that would enjoy the relief more than Grandma are my mom and my Aunt Kay. They have taken turns staying with her at night and have basically become live in nurses for Grandma. They do everything in shifts so that there is always someone there with Grandma. This has led to a lack of ability to take care of things at their own houses. My Uncle Donnie came up from Mississippi to help with things and I’m sure that his sisters are glad for the help.

We went down on Saturday morning to mow the lawns. It had been awhile since anyone has had five minutes of free time to do anything with them so the grass was long. Because of my legs I took the riding mower and Kelly took a push behind weed whacker that she used to get the ditch back under control. I was proud of the kids too. Callie was a beast with the push mower, doing the majority of Grandma’s back yard by hand. I can promise you, that is no small feat. Andrew had the weed whip and took care of the trim work before taking a turn pushing the mower, and Abbie worked hard with a leaf blower, getting the driveway and sidewalks cleaned off before getting a broom and sweeping off the deck. It made me feel good to be helping out mom and Aunt Kay, and made me feel good to see the kids putting forth that kind of effort with no complaint. Kelly took over for me on the rider after I had gotten Grandma’s and Aunt Kay’s front yards mowed. I had worked Friday night and had not slept, so I went back and took a short nap at mom’s house. We had originally planned to spend the weekend out in Barbeau with some friends, but Kelly suggested that we go and help out. This is one of the reasons that I love her. Her willingness to help a family that has only fairly recently come into her life makes me know that choosing her and being chosen by her is a blessing.

I don’t envy my mom or my aunt in what they have to do right now. It’s hard work to take care of someone ‘round the clock, especially when the patient is in pain. Mom and Aunt Kay, I just want you to know that your work is appreciated by everyone who calls her Great Grandma, Grandma, mom or simply friend. Thank-you!

On Sunday, we decided to take the kids to the Renaissance Festival. Kelly and I like to go and Andrew and Callie have been dying to try a turkey leg from there. I’ll relate that story in a couple of days as both of my brothers and their kids were able to make it on the short notice that we gave them and it led to some funny moments.

One quick update on me: My surgery was originally scheduled for October 20th, but we have bumped it up to September 22nd.

I Will Win