KEEP BELIEVING

What are Angie and boys going to do now?

I know you want to know. Wanna know HOW I know you want to know? Cuz many people, even barely acquaintances actually have enough gumption to ask me. Others just casually feel me out with indirect questions. Others that know me well expect I just may growl at you if you ask me that.

And I know included in the "What are Angie and the boys gonna do now” question are things like – Employment for Angie – when and how much? Location? House? Can they afford their lifestyle? Benefits? Etc.

And here’s the answer. I DO NOT KNOW.

And it sucks getting asked because I feel like I should know. It isn’t as if Brian’s death was a huge surprise. It isn’t as if I am not logical and intelligent and can’t figure things out.

In fact, I think sometimes my predisposition to over-analyze and logically think through EVERY SINGLE DECISION IN MY LIFE, including what color to paint a bathroom that can easily be repainted, is what is preventing me from knowing exactly what to do from here.

First thing first, though, is that I am exactly identifying my financial status. Since Brian’s death, we have received AMAZING generosity from friends and family. In March, we took a voluntary separation package from Caterpillar that has allowed me to have this time to think things through and figure things out. That being said, Brian and I have always lived within our means, practically and frugally on a budget that had us giving our tithe to church/charity, saving for our future and college and splurging on a few unnecessaries. So, we have no debt except our mortgage putting the boys and me in a better position. I have no doubt that it is our obedience to God’s biblical financial rules yielding this reward today.

However, we cannot go on forever like this. It is just a matter of figuring out exactly how much investment income we can generate in addition to our social security survivor benefits. There will be a shortfall with those two combined, and that will determine when and how much I will have to work. When the boys turn 18, the social security survivor benefit will expire completely and I, then, will have to solely support myself on my income.

There are several factors with determining employment for myself. First of all, I do not feel that I would be a good employee at this exact moment in time during this season in my life. I am easily distracted, have a lack of attention span and cry at the oddest times. So, I want to take a bit more time and give myself time to grieve and come to terms with whatever the heck our new normal is. Once I determine how much of my life is spent doing things for the kids that cannot easily be delegated or requested of friends like homework and quality time and the support they need from immediate family, I can better determine how much I am WILLING to work. However, if finances dictate that the amount I NEED to work exceeds the amount I am WILLING to work, the NEED will outweigh the latter and we will figure out the rest. I do not think we will be forced into that situation, though, barring another market crash.

Additionally, in order to give my boys stability and support, my goal is to work enough for this first couple of years to basically just get by without saving much for MY future. I will always save for college. It was one of my and Brian’s biggest goals to give to our children what our parents gave to us, and that is a college graduation that is debt free. I feel I would be dishonoring Brian to not strive for that. However, once again, if our finances did not allow for it without a huge compromise to our lifestyle and our emotional well-being, I know it would be MORE dishonoring to Brian to compromise OURSELVES for a debt-free college graduation.

There are many factors to consider when contemplating my future employment, not the least of which is the obvious – WHAT would it be. Should I do something related to my experience in accounting, business management and finance? Should I take a less demanding job because we don’t need the money at the risk of getting farther away from my experience and a well-paying job when I DO need to go back to work with a higher paying job when the boys finish high school? Do I just start all over now that I am older and wiser? I just don’t know. I trust that God will provide answers through the right opportunities.

When considering employment, I realize that full-time work would take me away from my boys a considerable amount in a time when they need a lot of direct involvement. They aren’t really capable of doing self-directed, independent homework and won’t be for a few more years. Their homework is family homework and they both need me now to help with this. They want to be involved in a few extra-curricular activities and to add single-parenthood, full-time employment on top of basic school would almost wipe this away. I just don't know how I would swing it all for them and for myself BY MYSELF. I also realize part-time work that meets our financial needs may not be possible. I am not naïve.

Other factors to consider are when and WHERE?

Obviously, the most glaring question many people have is WHERE IS ANGIE GOING TO LIVE WITH THE BOYS? The answer once again, is I DON’T KNOW. For now, we are staying put. I have no intention of going anywhere this school year unless we felt remarkably led by God to do so. I want to give the boys and myself time to figure out life here without Brian. Figure out things like where do I want my boys to call home? Right now they know little other than Central Illinois as home. Figure out things like where can we afford? Figure out things like where do we have the best support system? And that changes daily. It changes as our support system of family and friends have their own changing commitments and lifestyles. Sometimes Grandma and Grandpa are around for a ton of help and sometimes they want to travel. And we want them to. They need to. We don’t want anyone to feel like they are tied here solely because of us. And sometimes friends can help with rides and time with the kids, but then it changes when their own sports, work and extra activities take their time. And that is to be expected because once again, we don’t want anyone to feel like they can’t do their own thing because of us. HOWEVER, if full-time employment is what was necessary for us, I would have to go where I had the best support system and I felt the most comfortable knowing that my kids would be in the care of family and friends A LOT. I, honestly, do not know where that is right now. I am taking this year to figure this all out.

It is no secret that I have no family in Illinois at all. My closest family members are 3 hours away and those are extended family members. CLOSE-KNIT extended family members, but my immediate family is 4 hours away. However, Brian’s family is within a few miles of us, and he has many extended family members also within a few miles of us. But, will this relationship change as things unfold in our lives? I like to think it wouldn’t, but I have witnessed too many examples being on the biological side of a relative's death to know this may be naïve thinking. I know it will take a lot of effort on both our sides to ensure a healthy relationship that allows both sides the graces they need to grieve, live and cope.

Additionally, moving right now to a comfortable support zone of MY family would force me to solely rely on family and very old friends in a place where I have never lived on my own. It would be in a town like St. Louis where I have not lived since I graduated from college, let alone as a parent. Or, if I opted to be closer to my sister and mom, it would put me in a small town environment that I have never been a part of, losing all of the individuality of the friends and connections I have made in Illinois. I would partially be starting all over, all the while determining WHERE to live, WHAT works best for us, not knowing how much support I truly need and IF we can do it here. And you know what? I have great friends here. The best and closest friends I have ever had in my life. I feel connected to them and I feel connected at my church. Starting all that over right now is not overly appealing.

And, to top all this off, I know that the support I need today will differ from the support I need in a few years. The boys’ activities will get more demanding later, but rides MAY be easier to arrange as they age and don’t need parental supervision at Scouts or practices, or it may get more difficult depending on their interests. I don’t know. Also, their homework will become more independent. I will be able to grocery shop or run a few errands without having them in tow in just 3-4 years when they can start staying alone for an hour or two at a time. And that will only increase from then on. Gavin will be in middle school in less than 4 years’ time. AAAHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!

So, as you can see, YES, I am constantly thinking this through. I have a lot of decisions to make and for right now, just the day-to-day decisions of what to have for dinner are difficult enough to make while we heavily grieve for Brian. Then I have larger, but immediate decisions to make like benefits coverage as our COBRA amount quadruples next month. And how long do the boys stay in counseling now that we have to start paying privately? And I still don’t know for sure what color to paint my bathroom.

And then there is the guilt for knowing that I DO have a college education and am perfectly suited to work a well-paying, full-time job but just not wanting to do it right now because I know it would not be what is best for my kids and me emotionally, but would really make some decisions easier and make saving for college and benefits a no-brainer. (All that experience and education, yet still ridiculous run-on sentences) So, don’t even get me started on feeling under the microscope knowing that my closest friends and family (especially my parents who gifted me with that education) have to be thinking – “Why the heck is she doing this when she is educated and employable?” And I realize that most of the guilt is probably self-inflicted. This is what I do to myself.

But my motto for the last few months and for the next couple will continue to be - "NO BIG CHANGES FOR A YEAR". Different seasons and events unfold different challenges and perspectives.

For future reference, to anyone who is dying to know what someone who is handling a large life-change like a divorce, a death or job loss is going to do from here, DON’T ASK. I know it is well-intended, but I can tell you if they want to talk about it, they will. THEIR THOUGHTS ARE CONSUMED WITH IT ANYWAY. And they don’t want to be in their position of HAVING to think about it at all. (And also to let you know that 12 months ago, I also would have asked anyone that was going through this the SAME questions.) Rather, just say to that person “I know you have a lot of decisions and very difficult choices ahead of you. I will pray for you as you think things through. But, please take the time you need to make informed decisions and if you want to talk things through, I’m here to listen. (Although they will always be willing to talk if you want to tell them about that great part-time, work-from-home, $50,000/year job you have been dying give to them.)” And then – PRAY FOR THAT PERSON AND THEIR DECISIONS.

You can start with me.

KEEP BELIEVING

*edited to add* I didn't write this post to make anyone feel bad for asking me what we are going to do next or for wondering what we are going to do next. I wrote the post so you can have a glimpse into the hundreds of "If- Then's" that enter my mind daily, and to let you know where I am with the decision making. Because honestly? If you haven't walked a few steps in these shoes of mine (and my size 5 wides would not fit many of you, and I pray they never do - literally and metaphorically speaking), you simply wouldn't know how many factors and variables there are to complicate even the slightest decision. Like the fact that I suck at painting, so choosing the wrong color means more work for the friends and family that help me. And that every BIG decision I make right now will greatly impact THREE of us. My children are my first priority in all decisions right now.

Dear Brian,

Did you know that I stopped believing you would be physically healed on earth a long time ago? I stopped believing it in April of 2008 when we had to start a new chemotherapy after the Temodar stopped working. In fact, I think I stopped believing it when you were diagnosed with the Grade IV in 2007.

To what extent?

To a strong extent.

I tried to stay positive like you always did. I tried to share your enthusiasm for total and complete healing and restoration. I tried, but I failed. I failed because I watched as your boys learned to stop asking you to take them on a bike ride after you once tried and fell. Grant still talks about it today. I stopped believing because I saw that you could barely walk across our own lawn, let alone play soccer in a field with the kids. I stopped believing because I selfishly would wallow in pity when you would talk about how you needed to exercise to restore your strength and your right side function, yet you couldn’t even cut your own steak or tie your own shoes. Instead, I believed it was an insurmountable mountain to climb. You believed you could improve, Brian, but I stopped and I am so sorry.

I am so tired of hearing how strong I am, how my faith inspires. I am merely a flawed human. I didn’t believe you would be healed on this earth. I put up a façade like I did, but I didn’t believe it. I prayed for God to give us as long as possible, but I didn’t pray for total healing. I asked others to do it for us, feeling incredibly hypocritical all the while.

Do you think people would still think I was so inspiring if they knew that last fall, as I was buying you some vitamins, I SERIOUSLY contemplated whether to buy the 180 count or the 360 count, thinking strongly you may not be here in a few months? As if that lousy, stinking $8 means a damn thing right now. Sometimes, though, I wonder if my lack of faith and that blasted $8 contemplation sort of killed you. It haunts me.

Do you think people would still think I am admirable if they knew I discouraged you from buying an expensive pair of dress shoes in the fall? You see, I saw you deteriorating. I saw it slowly happening, but you didn’t. I saw it and in my gut, I knew the next test result was going to be the one that told us to stop treatment, and there would be no reason for those shoes. I didn't want to see those shoes sitting in your closet reminding me of your hope and my lack of it. You never bothered to bring up the shoes again. Did you forget or did you know I didn’t think you would need them?

Do you think anyone would still respect my strength if they knew I avoided you the last couple weeks of your life? I turned over the night shift so I could still sleep and spend the days refreshed going about life. I went to girl nights out. I volunteered at the school library and spent hours on the computer and in the basement working out while you were slowly dying in our family room. I even went to Wal-Mart just 30 hours before you died for absolutely no reason at all. I was obviously very distracted that day as this is what I saw when I looked down in the store noticing that my right leg seemed shorter than my left.



What I wouldn’t do to have one more day with you. What I wouldn’t do to reverse the clock and spend every single moment of every single day of the last few months with you. Every single moment breathing you in and memorizing your every feature. Every single moment holding your hand and watching whatever TV show you possibly wanted to watch. At the time, I just couldn’t watch my knight and my hero unknowingly decline and die. How incredibly selfish of me. It is my own tragic loss.

You see, Brian, I was not so strong. I was not so faithful and not so vigilant. I was weak and faltering and unbelieving. I am sorry. I am SO SO sorry. Sometimes I wonder if my faith had been stronger, would it have made a difference? Was this a test of faith that I failed? Am I failing now? Am I partially responsible for your death?

I miss you, Brian. I love you.

KEEP BELIEVING

Friday morning starts the formalities.

Please pray for me as I see Brian's body on Friday morning.
Pray for my boys as they see the body of their Daddy for the first time since Saturday.
Pray for me - I have been experiencing a lot of anxiety in anticipation of this.
Pray for us - that we remember this time. I know it will be a beautiful representation of the kind of life Brian lived.
Pray for good weather.
Pray for all of us to handle this with the same dignity and grace that Brian displayed his entire life.


KEEP BELIEVING

Just wanted to share Brian's obituary with all of you. Things are pretty crazy here getting everything planned and organized. Funerals are like planning weddings without the wardrobe issues in a matter of days without RSVP's. WOW! Luckily, I am surrounded by people who are helping with planning, organizing, singing, orchestrating, feeding, shopping and displaying. It is painfully enjoyable, if that makes sense.

Here is a copy of Brian's obit:http://www.wrightandsalmon.com/index.cfm

Brian's is on the right. You can sign the guest book and post comments there. You can leave private comments there as well if you are uncomfortable with anyone else seeing your words. Please know that I plan on printing out all the comments from yesterday's post, today's post and from the online obituary for the boys and me in the future.

The boys are doing okay. The grief comes in waves for me right now - sometimes it is high tide and sometimes it is low tide. Gavin has not expressed any sorrow yet. Grant cried, actually sobbed uncontrollably, for 45 minutes yesterday. He wanted to get back to Illinois and check on Daddy yesterday. When he arrived, I had to tell him Daddy was gone. While he seemed fine upon hearing the news, within an hour, he was not. There were no words to say. It was just a time to share his tears and hold tightly to him for as long as it took. He spent the afternoon divvying up the contents of Brian's wallet.

Actually, you know what, here is the text of the obituary. Why click again if you don't need to? The obit link will have the photo though. Going through photos makes you realize how often we do not take pictures of those we love with others we love or in places we love. Finding a photo of Brian alone was a painstaking process - or rather, finding one of him alone in which he was not making a silly face was a painstaking process.

DUNLAP-Brian Edward O’Neill, 36, of Dunlap, passed away at 12:45 a.m. on Tuesday, March 17, 2009 at OSF St. Francis Medical Center in Peoria.

Brian was born on November 2, 1972, in Hong Kong, the second of three boys of Ed and Jan (Fennell) O'Neill. After spending the first 5 years of his life in the Far East, Brian spent his entire grade and high school years in Pekin, IL where he graduated from Pekin High School in 1990 as president of his class.

Brian pursued higher education at the University of Missouri at Rolla (now Missouri University of Science and Technology) where he obtained a B.S in Mining Engineering in 1995. He was a member of the Kappa Sigma Fraternity, the Society of Mining Engineers and the social fraternity Theta Tau Omega.

Brian worked for Caterpillar for his entire career as a Marketing Representative. Brian's job took him to Peoria, IL; Chicago, IL; Denver, CO; and Edmonton, Canada.
Brian met his wife, Angie (Baer) O'Neill in college. They married on April 19, 1997 in St. Louis, MO.

He was a devoted and loving father to two of his greatest joys - his sons with Angie, Gavin (7) and Grant (6). He loved to watch them play sports, to take them to movies and to snuggle with them.

Brian's two brothers were another of his greatest sources of joy. He thoroughly enjoyed fishing and playing cards with Sean (Cheryl) O'Neill and Michael (Jennifer) O'Neill.

Brian loved his family - all of them - including his very large extended family and his wife's very large extended family. His grandparents preceded him in death - Leo O'Neill, Loretta (Johnston) O'Neill, Joseph T. Fennell, and Betty (White) Fennell-Breese.

In 1997, Brian began a battle with brain cancer. Brian courageously and valiantly fought the cancer until his dying breath on March 17, 2009.

Brian's impact on the world is immeasurable and his legacy will live on.

Funeral arrangements for Brian are as follows: Visitation: 4-8pm Friday, March 20 Wright and Salmon Mortuary 2416 N. North Street Peoria, IL 61604

Funeral: 10:30 am Saturday, March 21, 2009 with visitation 1 hour prior at Northwoods Community Church 10700 N. Allen Road Peoria, IL 61615

In lieu of flowers, the family has established a fund for the future education and upbringing of their children. Contributions can be made by contacting Jayme Bailey at Baird Financial 309-676-4160 or by visiting http://keepbelievingfund.blogspot.com/.



KEEP BELIEVING

Kris, Adam, Brian, me and Mindi just before we left Alexander's Feb 14, 2009

• If you bring a meal, disposable dishes are most appreciated. OR please be willing to come back and get your plate - forgiving me if it is not clean when you arrive.


• I don't care about brands on anything unless I specify.


• I do not use any particular brand of laundry detergent - whatever is on sale.


• If we are not home at the time you came for whatever reason right now, it is cool enough to leave just about anything outside for a while. I check the front porch frequently as I find treasure there from little angels frequently.


• Be patient with me and thank yous. I am historically bad at this and right now, I am scatter-brained. Please give your information to Karye so I can thank you properly, though,

I am dedicating this post today to tell you how Brian is doing, how I am doing and how the boys are doing - emotionally and physically, since I think I have made it pretty clear that spiritually we are doing well.

Brian -
Brian has had a great last few days physically. He hasn't slept much during the day. Cognitively, he is very "with it" and is remembering a lot more than he was early last week. He still has some issues with suddenly thinking an event that happened many years ago was very recent, or not remembering something that just happened, but only once or twice in any given day. Physically, Friday and Saturday, he was great. He had energy and maneuvered the stairs with confidence. He has not fallen since I last wrote about it on Wednesday. However, on Sunday, he said he felt his right hand and arm starting to get weaker. Still, he managed to get up, shower, get dressed (with a little help), eat a small breakfast, go to church, and then GO OUT TO LUNCH with some of our friends. It was such a successful day. He took a nap yesterday afternoon, but honestly, that is to be expected. He has had several phone conversations with friends and family. His speech is faltering and struggling, but he is able to eek out a conversation.

He is eating very little. He says food doesn't taste the same. He does eat some, though. He has lost around 8 pounds in the last few weeks. But don't worry, I am making up for it. Wait, on second thought, worry about it.

Emotionally, Brian is coming along. Friday evening and Saturday, most of the day, he was pissed. He had pursed lips and just kind of bounced his leg most of the day. He says he feels strong enough to keep fighting. Why not just try chemo again to see if it holds things off for longer? If he felt terrible, he could easier accept and stop fighting. So, I have explained to him that from the time of the CT Scan to the MRI, in just two weeks, the cancer popped up everywhere. It is in the leptomeninges, cerebellum bilaterally (both sides), brainstem and visible spinal cord on the MRI of the head. In hind sight, the symptoms he was having in October with the ventricles filling up and not draining was probably the beginning of this progression. The symptoms he had in December with the sudden vomiting and balance were signs of the worsening of this condition. The most recent scan simply confirms it. I ask him, "Why would we take more medicine that makes you weak and tired if it isn't helping?"

This conversation kills me. I feel like I am telling Brian to give up, like I am crushing his spirit and optimism. This man who has so courageously battled and so optimistically confronted every obstacle in front of him is now being told by one who has stood by him through every single moment of it all in the last 11 years that it is time to be done. MEDICALLY. I told him if he wants to keep fighting, then we turn all that energy and attitude directly to his spiritual healing. We give it all to Jesus. He says that is a given. He always gives it to Jesus. He is having a hard time not doing anything else medically.

Over the last few days, he is coming to terms with it. He is less angry. He does not sulk or become withdrawn. He is the same Brian as always.

Gavin and Grant:
I think they are okay. I have explained that the doctors said they don't think Daddy is getting any better and there is no more medicine to help Daddy's cancer. They ask me if Daddy is going to die. I explain that yes, Daddy is probably going to die. Naturally, to a 5 and 7 year old, there is no concept of process. When they pick up a golf club, they think they are going to get a hole in one each time rather than understanding things are gradual. They then ask me if Daddy is dead in the other room. "Mom, check on Daddy. He might not be sleeping. Maybe he died." They have questions about what Daddy will look like when he is dead, " Will we see blood? Will we see his bones?" I explain that no, it will not be like Star Wars or Pirates. Daddy will become more sleepy and then he will get sicker until he stops breathing and then he will drift off to Jesus. There will be no blood or bones or oozing.

I spend a lot of time reassuring them and confirming their emotions. Whenever we talk or they have questions, I tell them it is okay to be sad or mad or scared. Mommy is a little of all those, too, but we will be okay. The most important things is that Daddy loves and trusts Jesus, so he will go to Heaven to be with Him. We will go there some day if we believe the same things, but we have to stay here on Earth until Jesus thinks it is time for us. We have to spend a lot of time with Daddy making sure he knows we love him and doing fun things with Daddy.

I have explained that we will have lots of help from their grandparents, friends, aunts, uncles, and cousins after Daddy dies and while he is sick. There will be lots of people calling and visiting because everyone wants to see Daddy. So many people know and love Daddy and want to spend time with him. They will see nurses coming in and out of the house and there may be more things daddy needs to help him move - like the wheelchair, a hospital bed, a stair lift, etc. If they ever need to talk about any of it, they can talk to me or Daddy or anyone they know and love. Or if they want to talk to someone else who can help them, I can find them someone.

Grant and Gavin sometimes tell their friends. I make sure I tell their friends' parents if they play with them on a regular basis. Their friends think it sounds kind of neat. They will say things like, "Then I will come down lots more and play with you so you won't be sad." At times like that, I am grateful that they cannot currently comprehend the magnitude of this loss in their lives.

Sometimes they cry. I have found Grant hiding under a blanket sobbing, but trying not to, that he doesn't want daddy to die. I just pick him up and hold him and cry with him telling him, I know. It is okay to be sad. It is okay to be mad. I have found Gavin in similar situations. I just put him on my lap, stroke his hair, and tell him, I know. It is okay to be sad. I am sad, too. So is Daddy. It isn't anyone's fault. Gavin said, "It's the stupid devil's." He knows he is allowed to say the word stupid in connection with the devil, so he will say it again and again. I feel like screaming a few 4- letter words here and there, so I figure he needs an outlet.

Grant is confused about illness in this house. When Daddy is sick, he gets lots of attention and the mood changes. The kids notice this, especially Grant, being home after his half day of school with Daddy and Mommy every afternoon. He will suddenly get headaches when Daddy isn't feeling well and need to be held or need to watch a movie. Sometimes he needs ice cream. Sometimes he gets those things, sometimes he doesn't. I know it is confusing for him. I tell him Daddy doesn't want to be sick. I sure don't want any of them sick. I would rather play a game with him if he feels good. Sometimes it works. Sometimes it doesn't.

Otherwise, they are going on pretty normally. They are playing with friends, watching TV, doing homework, eating, wrestling, whining, fighting, etc. I am just trying to help them stay and feel normal in any areas I can.

ME
Honestly, I am doing well with a few exceptions. I don't really know how well I am sleeping. I feel pretty tired a lot of the day, so I think I am tossing and turning. Don't offer me aide on which sleep aid to take. I won't take it. They make me a walking zombie and I need to be able to take care of any issues that may arise in the course of a night. We have relatives coming into town this weekend, so I may take a sleep aid or just sleep in one day this weekend. My neck and my shoulders feel as though they are trying to hold up a 50 pound sack of flour or something. They hurt all the time. I had a massage on Friday, but it did little good to help ease the tension in my neck and shoulders. Any tips?

I have an unbelievable outpouring of support. Tomorrow, I plan on writing to tell any of you that are local or long-distance what we need, what you can do and what we don't need and what we would rather you NOT do. Not so sound ungrateful, but I know many want to help. There is only so much help one family can accept, though

I have contacted hospice. They admitted us this weekend which gives me much relief that if Brian were to take a sudden turn for the worse, I know who to call and what to do. The hospice contact was difficult for Brian. Since he feels good physically, he feels like people are giving up on him. I said, I have to have these resources here more as a "just in case." I didn't know what valuable resources hospice provides from a social aspect - counseling, advice, materials for the children. I am so glad I contacted them and can't wait to get more help with the children.

I am on a roller coaster. I don't think I am in denial. I am more in survival mode. One minute I am so grateful for the many blessings God has granted us with our lives and our children, and the next minute I break down and cry uncontrollably. One minute, Brian and I laugh and joke, the next minute I lay my head in his lap and sob about the unfairness. One minute I look at him and breathe in every square inch of Brian, the next minute I can't stop the tears from coming wondering when the last time he strokes me hair may be. I think these are normal when someone is dealing with a terminal loved one???

Neither Brian nor I are happy with how we are spending our time. I have been spending a lot of time on the computer reading emails and comments and writing blog posts. He has been watching a lot of TV and the boys are kind of just doing their thing. We want to do more together, to make these moments more impactful. We are going to do more to turn off the TV at night and play more board games and read more books together. We have to give the kids their normalcy, too, so it is a difficult things to balance. We don't want to shove memories down their throats. We want them to be memories that happen naturally. Yet, we know our time is likely limited so some things will be more forced.

That about sums it up. All in all, we are all gradually coming together. We are growing. We are grieving. We are accepting. We are praying. We are learning. We are bonding. We are loving. We are living.

Mostly though we....
KEEP BELIEVING

Over the course of the last 3 weeks, our church has been participating in a fast. Many of the girls from my church group (for which we are still trying to come up with a clever name) and family, fasted on our behalf.

Here is what I fasted for: Brian's healing and our future provision.

Admittedly, I am not a good faster. One reason being, sometimes fasting makes me crabby. I made up my own fast from a few things from which I truly sacrificed for the first two weeks, but didn't stick to it the last week - AT ALL. Being the primary caregiver and knowing that I am the sole driver, etc. in my family, I felt it very important to take care of myself. Let's face it, though, that is a feeble excuse. I can justify myself all I want, but we all know that God would sustain me if I was doing something for His glory - to bring myself closer to Him.

Do I blame what has transpired over the last week to my failed fast? N-O! Not at all.

Do I think fasts are worthless for those that did fast on our behalf after the events that have transpired over the last week? N-O! Not at all.

I want my friends and family that were successful in their fasts on our behalf to know that I truly believe your fast was effective. While, we are not seeing a physical healing in Brian right now, we are seeing an emotional and spiritual culmination that transcends logic. Here is what I mean:

The first week of the fast, we received SEVERAL DIRECT ANSWERED PRAYERS. Please go back and read those to feel encouraged about our cause.

Right now, Brian feels better today than he has in over a week. While this makes it difficult to accept what is occurring inside his brain, it makes our time together extraordinary. We are capable of discussing things. He is remembering and comprehending just about everything.

Brian is not afraid of death. I have asked him many times, so we can pray about this and work through it. When I ask him, the answer without hesitation or thinking, is, "No." Just NO! I told him, "Then you win, Baby, YOU WIN."

Brian and I have discussed that right now he can be an amazing testimony to his boys about death. In the end, we are all departing this earth some day. Brian has attacked every obstacle that has ever come his way with dignity and courage. Death is no exception. What we can teach our boys in how we handle this is something that I believe will have a greater impact on them than just about anything they will ever experience.

The peace we are experiencing is overwhelming, serene, and illogical. Healing is not always physical.

KEEP BELIEVING

I keep clicking on and opening my own blog. Over a hundred times a day. I don't know why. Yes, I read the comments. I take them in and savor them. I read every single one and every single email that comes. I can't tell you how much they mean to me.



But the reason I keep reading is more this time.



I had been dreading the day I may have to write that post - the one that tested my very core and inner faith. The one that I knew would make some that have believed in our story and our plight for so long doubt themselves and their God. The one I knew would make nay-sayers smug - saying where is your God now? I prayed for God to give me the words to make an impact.



Yet, I am profoundly disappointed at my own words. My lack of creativity. The void of almost anything spiritual. The absence of that which is inspirational.



Still, I keep reading it over and over.



As if I keep reading it , then somehow circumstances will change.



As if I keep reading it , then somehow time will stand still.



As if I keep reading it , then somehow things will not progress.



As if I keep reading it , then somehow this would no longer be our lives we are living, but someone else's for which we are empathetic.



This is our life. I don't want it. It doesn't matter. This is our life. My future is disappearing before my eyes. My dreams are dying slowly each day. I do not get to grow old with my husband. I am about to enter single-motherhood. I have to worry about how we are going to get by. I have to figure out how to make things stable and secure for my boys in the aftermath of losing the person that is supposed to protect them the most.



And none of it is my choice.



Yet, I continue to go back to my own words: "..finding peace in the last 11 years of our struggles has always been a choice. It is a conscious effort on both our parts...We are not defined by our circumstances in life. Peace comes from how we choose to respond to our circumstances. There is nothing any of us could do to honor God more than to handle our circumstances with the utmost dignity and Christ-like character possible. I look at Brian’s attitude and the choices he has made over the last 11 years, and I see nothing more God-honoring than that. "



I have a choice now. My choice is to seek the peace that surpasses all understanding. Because there is no logic. There is no understanding this.



KEEP BELIEVING

Sorry for the lack of creativity in the post title.

We had the results of the MRI from yesterday read to us today. The news was pretty much devastating. The tumor in Brian's head has ALSO become a leptomeningeal tumor and I looked for a good google link for you, but couldn't find one. The leptomeninges work to move the spinal fluid all over the brain and spinal cord. There was particular concern involving the brain stem. Whatever. Go research if you want to. I tired of it after 10 minutes. The primary site of the tumor is also growing. So, educating myself further at this point in time is the last thing I want to do.

What it means is this:

The tumor is growing and spreading and the latest chemo isn't working either. It is time to be done.

Brian didn't "get it" as we were leaving the doctor's office. He was trying to schedule his next appointment and treatment.

I had to explain to him in the car and again at home that the tumor is growing and there is nothing left to do.

He said, he can't do that. He can't do nothing.

I said, Brian, there are no chemos left to try for the stage that your cancer is in. There is no treatment left that is going to take away the cancer that is now spreading into new areas of your brain and possibly your spine.

He said his symptoms weren't that bad to just do nothing. There has to be something else.

I then explained that his symptoms HAVE gotten worse in the last few weeks. I told him he isn't remembering things. He is falling. He is unsteady on his feet. His right hand and arm hang basically limp. His symptoms are worse and when combined with these results, it is time to say enough is enough.


I said I don't know what else there is to do unless you want to try somewhere else in the country with another specialist, but that would require travel which you are not up for and we would most likely get the same response. Brian, the cancer is growing in your brain. Why would you keep trying chemotherapy when it isn't working? Why keep putting it into your body when it grows anyway?

He is mad. Well, A little pissed, he says.

I will tell the boys this weekend, but they know. Anyone who has seen Brian over the last two weeks knows or knew.... except Brian.

I have made the first step for Hospice contact. They are supposed to contact me within a day or two.

I am going to turn over scheduling of meals and cleaning, rides for the kids, playdates, etc. to some friends and/or family. Just give me the weekend to think it through.

The good news is that Brian has not vomited since Wednesday afternoon. We tried a different drug, but it could also be the chemo leaving his system.

So, that is it. We are done. Brian is dying. Maybe weeks. Maybe more. Maybe less. We don't know.

Pray for our peace.

Pray for our acceptance.

Pray that Brian and I can change our conversations more and more about coming to Jesus than fighting to live.

Pray for our boys.

I will keep you posted on how Brian is doing as much as possible. I plan on spending just about every waking moment with him making it beautiful.

If anyone wants to visit us, let me know. Ed and Jan have lots of room. We have lots of room. We don't know how fast Brian will decline.

KEEP BELIEVING with a focus shift to the afterlife.

Brian spent the entire day yesterday vomiting. Within one hour of eating absolutely EVERYTHING he ingested found its way back out the way it entered until about 5:00 this evening. I called the doc yesterday hoping they would simply give him an IV anti-nausea boost or check his electrolytes for dehydration. Unfortunately, they decided to have us come in for labs and an appointment with the Nurse Practitioner.

Now, no offense whatsoever to nurse practitioners out there, but we are a bit beyond this. Brian's cancer is well-advanced. We have been dealing with the same worsening conditions for 2 years now. We have been dealing with this brain cancer for nearly 12 years. For us to sit down with a nurse to tell her the symptoms is a waste of our time. I knew what would happen. We would see this nurse, repeat our story, state our case, she would have to consult with the doctor because she is baffled at the vomiting (as were the oncologist and the neuro-surgeon a couple weeks ago), she would come back with a recommendation from the doctor (who has time to talk to her, but didn't have an available appointment time for us to bypass this stupid process), field our questions, ask the doctor again and get back to us again.

And, not to repeat myself, but that is precisely what happened. Read above to see how our appointment went today. Moment by moment. Only it transpired over two f@#$ing hours. TWO HOURS we were there from lab draw to the time we walked out. And I should have insisted we see the doc, but I am becoming worn down from all this and I just bend over and then come home and cry. Or cry in the doctor's office. Or cry in the car. Or all of the above.

Anyway, I also explained about the issues Brian is having with confusion and memory. He is also a bit more unstable. Part of this is that he is incredibly weak from not keeping anything with nourishment in him for 2 days. His labs were all fine, though. So, she relayed this information to the doctor and he ordered the MRI for tomorrow, January 22 at 10:00 am. We will have those results regurgitated to us on Friday. So this means that by the end of the day on Friday, Brian will have been in the Cancer Center for an appointment or labs 5 times, at the hospital for tests 2 times, and met with the surgeon once- all since January 5. So forgive me if I get a bit crabby at this process. I think this is a world record for reaching our out of pocket maximum with our insurance. PLUS, I am sick of rearranging lives, appointments, babysitting and anything else every time I turn around. SICK OF IT ALL!!!!!!! And that is with people around me making it easy to handle. I feel for anyone who is doing this on their own. YIKES!

Anyway, Brian's confusion and memory and instability are more concerning to them than the vomiting. So, we left with the nausea basically unaddressed (surprise, surprise - 3rd visit for this reason and nothing comes of it, yet we waste our time going in over and over again). Regardless, the MRI is scheduled for tomorrow to see if the tumor is growing and if there is any swelling associated with it causing Brian's issues. If it is, I don't even venture to guess what we will do, if anything, except start back on steroids to help with the swelling.

To explain Brian's memory and confusion issues, I would use the analogy of Alzheimer's. Not that I have any experience with that disease, but what he is going through is somewhat like you see on TV. He forgets things that have recently happened or why we are going somewhere or where we are going while we are in the car, then he kind of snaps out of it and doesn't remember that he was having issues. He is hearing strange things in his left ear sometimes. Then he doesn't remember that he had a hearing issue. I have to remind him of things many times a day and he will have no idea what I am talking about each time. Then, suddenly he will ask me why I keep repeating things to him. But, he is nice about it and he smiles a lot and is in a good mood about it all. It is more me right now that is having a hard time keeping it all together.

Today, two girlfriends came by to help me clean the house. Thank God. My house is cleaned top to bottom thanks to their help. Bed linens are clean and tomorrow I can concentrate more on clothing laundry. I think Wednesday is becoming my designated cleaning day and I have another friend offering to come help me next week. Pending on how the tests results go on Friday, I may request even more help in this arena. We will see.

I am set up as far as food goes for a while, thanks to my home-girls!

Also, the shoveling of the driveway by my neighbors has been a godsend. I have to keep that very free of snow and ice as Brian is becoming more of a fall hazard. He fell in the garage today getting into the car. I couldn't help him up, so I had to get a retired neighbor to help us. He gladly did so. I begged Brian and even had to throw in some tears to use a wheelchair at the cancer center. I asked him to do it for me, not himself. I can't bear to pick him off the ground again.

I have some other issues I may need some help with regarding automobiles, registration and service, etc. I am waiting to see what happens Friday. Right now I just want to spend time with Brian. All he does is watch TV all day. I can do that with him. I was doing it well right before the holidays. I haven't done it much since the first of the year, but I feel pretty confident that if I get some relief with the household stuff, I can do that very well.

KEEP BELIEVING

Today is a snow day. Which means my plans of working out in solitude, showering in peace, and running errands efficiently have been left unplowed beneath the several inches on the street. They will be found after the Clipper leaves us and the snowplows shove enough accumulation off the road to find the remnants of what remains important. Nothing like children at home to remind us of time management and prioritization.

I wanted to take this moment to update you on Brian after his first round of Carboplatin and Avastin. Monday morning, before his dad picked him up for treatment, Brian had a vomiting episode again. Bummer. BIG BUMMER. He hadn't had one in over a week. He had another when he arrived at the clinic. He took the chemo fine. He was pale and tired when he got home, but he did okay.

Yesterday, he had several vomiting fits again. We are unsure if this is chemo related or connected to whatever else has been going on with him. He is not nauseated and does not feel bad, he simply feels an urge to vomit and cannot stop it. It is rather unpleasant for all because he is not quick enough on his feet to make it to the toilet and not stable enough on his feet to get to a kneeling position in front of the toilet. He keeps a bucket nearby. He does not feel a huge urge or sensation, it comes upon him quickly, so often the kids are nearby when it happens. I think it scares them. Yesterday, I was upstairs on the phone and Grant came up to tell me to please check on Daddy. He said he heard Daddy throwing up and I should check on him. So, I did. Then I played MarioKart with Grant to get his mind off it. I asked him if he had any questions or if he wanted to talk about it. He didn't. I told him I was very proud of him for helping take care of Daddy.

Brian has started to walk with a cane this week. I am glad about this. He is stepping on his right foot wrong more and more often. He walks pigeon toed with his right foot and often steps on the outside of his toes causing his foot to roll. I am afraid he will sprain or break something. The biggest problem with the cane is that he has to use his left hand to hold it. This is his only free hand. He can't really hold things in his right hand. It limits him even more.

His speech has been hit or miss. He says he is experiencing the "chemo stupids" - meaning the chemo makes him stupid, sort of clouds his thinking.

He will be due for another MRI in about 2 weeks or so.

The cane and vomiting are starting to scare the kids more, I think. They are asking me more and more questions about death - particularly Gavin. It is difficult to field. I have always been very honest and open with them about Brian's condition so they do not feel scared or are not blind-sided if Brian takes a turn for the worse or has a bad day. Lately, though, Gavin has been more scared. He does not want to leave the house to play with friends. He only wants them here. He says he doesn't want Daddy to die when he is away. He makes me check on Daddy at night sometimes when I am putting him to bed so that I can assure him that Daddy is still alive. He is worried he may be at school when daddy dies. He is simply more scared. We have talked about what would happen if Daddy dies and that eventually Mommy would go back to work so I could pay for us to live. He was very worried about what that meant for him. He understands now that he is getting older his everyday life would change. Mostly, though, he cries that he doesn't want Daddy to die because it would mean he would never see him again. I really don't know how to handle this exactly. I assure him we will be fine. Daddy is okay today and we need to enjoy each day right now. We can't worry about dying because we will all die some day. We just don't go around thinking and worrying about it all the time. Gavin is my worrier. He is my thinker. This is troubling for him. Rightfully so.

Well, I have to go break up the third fight of the day. It is not even 9:00 am. Ahh, snow days.....

KEEP BELIEVING

Okay, so we have made some progress the latter half of the week.

Brian and I met for about 2-1/2 hours yesterday with his employer understand this voluntary package and what it means for us. They had just received word that those on short term leave were eligible which is why they called us and wanted us to know about the package. They had an obligation to ensure we were aware, but the deadlines were already in place. Thanks to their time and efforts, I feel very informed to make an informed and detailed decision. It is a great package for anyone close to retiring or anyone that was considering changing employers or has something else in the works or was considering leaving the company anyway. It makes incredible sense for us if we think Brian would not survive the year. About this time next year, it breaks even for us and becomes a bad decision after about one year. So, basically taking the package means betting against Brian's survival in so many words. We have decided to put our names in as eligible knowing we have some time to take our names out. If we didn't put our names in as eligible by Monday, it would not be an option at all. This gives us some time to monitor Brian's progress and make some decisions based on that. If we get some devastating test results, knowing we are down to our last treatment option, that would lead us toward taking the package. If not, I personally, would not bet against Brian at any point in time. While we have never talked to his doctor about exactly how long he expected Brian to survive, I would venture to guess he is surprised to see Brian still kicking it as he is. Who are any of us to assume how long he will continue to do exactly that?

Regardless, we have a few more weeks to think about it. If Brian deteriorates in that time, this could be the answer to some more financial security for me and the boys. If he does not, then it could be the answer to his healing. Regardless, it is a prayer answered in some way.

That being said, we have also made progress with the chemotherapy. Not to bore you with the details, but some angels that I don't want to mention because they are doing us a large favor are making it happen and we are extremely grateful. Brian will undergo chemo this Monday - Avastin and Carboplatin. We are paying for some of it out of pocket, but our portion is very affordable so far. The insurance won't budge. At this point in time, it doesn't matter, though. That prayer has been answered.

Brian is doing okay. We have had to have some very difficult discussions regarding his condition, his outcome and our feelings about the future. It is difficult and emotional, but we both know that we have to think both ways and be as objective as we can about what will happen if he survives or if he doesn't.

Brian's right side seems to be getting just a tad weaker. He is starting to fall or nearly fall more and more. Walking is becoming more challenging at times. He is way too proud to use any sort of assistive device, though. I respect whatever he wants as long as he is safe. I am so thankful for the disabled parking placard. It has really helped a lot these last few months. He pushes through all of this, though, with a good attitude.

We switched his anti-seizure medication from generic to name brand again. Brian has had no vomiting and little feelings of dizziness since Sunday. We made the switch on Tuesday. So, this is very encouraging. This is a prayer answered.

I have been so much more at peace the last couple days. That is a prayer answered.

Thank you to those joining us in prayer.

KEEP BELIEVING

We had our appointment with the surgeon yesterday. He was pleased with how Brian looked and was speaking. We explained about Brian's vomiting episodes. He had two theories. One being that Brian could have something viral going on that manifested in his inner ear as can happen with sinus viruses causing some sort of vertigo issue. If this is the case, it should clear up on its own. His second theory was that the Keppra (anti seizure drug) Brian takes which recently switched from manufacturer to generic may be causing this. So we are going to start taking the non-generic formula again for the additional cost.

The CT scan Monday looked fine - the ventricles are not enlarged or smaller showing the shunt is working fine. In addition, the tumor has not grown. However, it is showing increased enhancement meaning the areas in question are still considerably in question and probably "hot."

We told him we were leaning to chemo instead of surgery at this point in time. He has no issue either way with our decision.

We are still having issues with the insurance approving the chemo for Brian's condition. Latest we heard was that it could be A MONTH before they have a decision. So, today I have to make that unpleasant phone call myself to implore on the insurance company's good nature to rush this as my husband has not had any treatment for his illness in 3 months and this is our last option. Tentatively, though, we have scheduled for Monday, January 12.

Today we received a phone call from Brian's employer who is offering the company voluntary separation packages. The package makes incredible sense for us if we think Brian is not going to survive for the next 6 months. If he survives the next 6 months, it becomes riskier. After 18 months, it becomes disastrous unless I am back to work at am employer with good medical benefits at that point in time. I did our budget yesterday assuming Brian would be on his short term disability until October and start long term reduced salary in November. With this, it is most likely that I will need to go back to work sometime this fall anyway to make ends meet. This is stressful given the current job market. The major employer in this town is trying to get its employee's to separate in order to avoid layoffs. There is little available right now. I have an engineering degree, but have always worked in accounting/finance. Accounting/finance has changed drastically in the last few years since I quit with the implementation of Sarbanes Oxley rules and more and more companies wanting CPA's. I am not going back to school to become a CPA. Also, I don't want to be at a new job if Brian is getting sicker. I want to be with him taking care of him and taking care of my boys. I want to give my boys stability and love and assurance - not day-care and mommy gone a lot, etc.

I am stressed. I knew this would be the year of making big decisions, but I didn't expect them all to come upon us so fast. I am a mess. Also, I wasn't going to say this because I don't want to do this with any attention on myself, but I am trying a 3 week fast. I am not doing a full fledged fast, but fasting from a few things in my life that I know I can go without. I am replacing them with prayers for Brian's healing and for our financial provision. So, when opportunities like this voluntary package come along, I don't know if it is God's way of saying "here is my provision for the next year" or if it Satan attacking our faith for Brian's recovery. Also, we have to make our decision on this by MONDAY.

Here is what I am stressed about:
Insurance issues with chemo next week (waiting another month is just not an option in my mind)
Making the phone calls for the insurance issues.
Decisions about chemo/surgery.
Making a decision about the separation package.
Going back to work/making ends meet.
Sticking to the fast for renewal spiritually.
Finding a new pediatrician for the boys.

Please pray for us.

KEEP BELIEVING

I feel like I have been here before - TIME AND TIME AGAIN. Brian had his oncologist appointment today and was supposed to start chemo. Well, it appears this chemotherapy regimen of Carboplatin and Avastin has not yet been approved by our insurance for Brian's diagnosis, so we have to get special approval. Approval for which we are still waiting. According to the oncologist office, they have checked a couple times with the insurance and are awaiting approval and were told today 5-10 days. Are you stinking kidding me??? This was scheduled Dec. 10 and this was the first we heard of an insurance issue. We could have been working this all last months. Now, we have to wait for Brian to get sicker while what? the insurance files a few papers and finally approves this because this is all we got left???? Can you tell I am fuming?

But more than the insurance approval issue is the lack of communication again. There was absolutely no reason for us to go into the office to find this out today - this is a phone call that should have been made to us before we left the house - "Hello? Mr. And Mrs. O'Neill? It appears your insurance still has not approved the chemotherapy Brian has scheduled for today. There is no reason for you to come in unless you are having another issue you would like to talk to the doctor about. Maybe you could call the insurance company yourselves to assist in our plight for approval. And let's go ahead and get you on the schedule for next week to make up for this. K?" Only that would be in LA LA LAND...

AND? We paid for the stinking office visit...

As it turns out, due to Brian's vomiting issues, he is currently undergoing a CT scan to see if perhaps the shunt he has is clogged or backed up causing him pressure issues.

Also? We have an appointment with the surgeon again tomorrow to discuss the surgery he mentioned. So, maybe this cancellation of chemotherapy today is God's way of telling us to think harder about the surgery.

It is very confusing and frustrating and I feel like we are right where we were mid-November. Not moving forward. Just waiting. And deciding. And struggling.

KEEP BELIEVING

Not to beat a dead horse, but the last post I gave you a link to our interview at church lat weekend regarding finding peace.

As we were leaving the parking lot, I was overcome with a few thoughts I WISHED we would have shared. This is the letter I wrote when we got home so I could capture those thoughts.

Pastor Cal,

Brian and I completed our interview yesterday with Dave regarding our difficult situation with Brian’s brain tumor, bleak prognosis and finding peace in the midst of that.

Naturally, as we drove away, Brian and I thought of 10,000 things we wished we would have said that we didn’t say – the countless times we experienced God’s grace in the midst of our struggles – an inspirational card sent when it seemed all we could do was cry – a letter from someone Brian barely knows telling us watching Brian and the way he handles the situation gave them a renewed hope and attitude in their own trials – an insistent lending hand just when I thought I couldn’t handle another unexpected task.

However, I think what we most regret not saying outright is that finding peace in the last 11 years of our struggles has always been a choice. It is a conscious effort on both our parts. Brian had a choice as he lost his ability to use his right hand to never throw a ball again OR to teach himself to throw with his left hand. He chose his left hand and he can still pitch to his boys in the backyard. He had a choice to never write again OR to teach himself how to use his left hand for signing his name and eking out some legible penmanship. He chose to teach himself how to write with his left hand. Brian could easily choose to sit in a corner and fall into a deep depression, which would be understandable given his diagnosis and resulting issues, but he chooses not to wallow in despair. No, he rallies each day despite his own body making it difficult to do so. As for myself, I have a choice of not having things performed around the house because Brian can no longer do them OR I can become Brian’s hands and speech where he cannot. Brian has taught me how to better handle confrontation in a calm and respectful manner when he was unable to speak the words he knew needed to be said. Brian has walked me through wiring outlets and 3 way lighting fixtures when his own hands failed him. Brian has taught me how to handle power tools and hand tools and other trades equipment. He is giving me life skills to handle the things life may throw at us in the event of his possible death, but for now, it gives us great pride to accomplish life’s challenges together – as a team. I have a choice each day of denying the situation and living like it isn’t happening OR making each day memorable and enjoyable.

Whenever people tell us they admire our strength, our determination or our attitude, I tell them there is nothing special about us. We are not defined by our circumstances in life. Peace comes from how we choose to respond to our circumstances. There is nothing any of us could do to honor God more than to handle our circumstances with the utmost dignity and Christ-like character possible. I look at Brian’s attitude and the choices he has made over the last 11 years, and I see nothing more God-honoring than that.

We choose to love and to laugh and to cooperate and to communicate and to make each day count for something. It would be easier not to choose these things, but it would rob us of peace and joy that is so readily available. We choose peace.

In Christ,
Angie O’Neill

KEEP BELIEVING

Our interview about finding peace in the midst of life's storms was played at church this past weekend.



Here is a link to the audio file. Go to message player and click on the audio file for Finding Peace on Dec. 14. I could not figure out how to embed it directly in here because I am stupid about such things, so to listen to this will take you a couple of steps. I am sorry.



This link is to the entire message which I would naturally encourage anyone to listen to because I think it is powerful, but our interview portion starts with approximately 10:30 remaining (about 32 minutes into it) and plays until about 4:00 minutes remaining. The entire message is a little over 40 minutes.



You can hear some of the issues Brian has with his speech here. Prepositions are one of his most challenging issues - he uses the wrong one often. He knows what he wants to say, but the words just do not come out all the way he intends - Expressive Aphasia.



There were so many things I wished we would have said after the interview was finished, but I think the guy that did the editing of the interview did a fantastic job making it coherent and meaningful. One day I will post the letter I wrote when I got home from the interview that afternoon of all the things I wished I would have said. For now, though, I want you to listen to the interview in its purity without knowing the "coulda, shoulda, woulda's" of it.



KEEP BELIEVING

I'm not going to post for a few days. Read a bit each day to tide you over. There is a lot of crap meaningful stuff here today.