Radioactive

Friends Who Help Friends

Blood - percocet and Macallan 12 Year Old
On the radio: Elephant: Jason Isbell

2017

Life comes at you in waves.  Each day ends and a new day begins.  Each brings new challenges and new celebrations.  How you manage each event, defines your character.  

Our family has had its share of problems, as you have heard.  No more or less than others.  Like many, I'm sure, we have fought, for years, through issues of finance and health.  When we have been in our darkest times, with the care and love of our family and friends, we have drawn strength enough to find light on the other side.  After each wave covers you and leaves you without breath, there comes a chance to breathe and fight back.  We have calm periods in the wave's trough and sheer joy riding its crest.  Those times we are pushed under, however, are the most dangerous, and we must  commit to re-surfacing, and do battle again.

It was June 2017 and I had just completed four skin surgeries at Moffit.  Dr. Harrington took some chunks out to send for biopsies.  He stitched up an 8 inch section on my front shoulder and left several others open, waiting for the biopsy results, to see how deep and wide the next surgery needed to be.  The wounds were covered with synthetic pads and tape, waiting for my next call to action.  We would be undercover for the next week.

More importantly, we had been in regular contact with our friend, George Kerr, a snowbird neighbor, while we lived at The Club at Renaissance in Fort Myers, whose real home is in Listowell, Ontario, Canada.  He and his wife Dianne had been close friends for more than 10 years.  They had lost one of their three grown children in a car crash about four years previously and Dianne had undergone chemo for ovarian cancer for many years.  George called to let us know that Dianne could not handle any more treatments and she was in hospital, not eating and not prepared to go on.  We offered to go to Canada to see her, but George said she was not prepared to see anyone and wanted only to be left to die.

             Better days at the beach, before dinner, at Dianne's favorite restaurant on Sanibel Island.

2013 - A Difficult Year

Dianne was always a brave, honest and giving person.  Back in 2013,  before her body and will to live gave out, I had asked our Tuscaloosa neighbors and great friends, Art and Hasseline Thompson, if they would allow us the use of their Aspen home for a week in early September, so that we might take Dianne and George to see a most magnificent part of our country and play some golf.  Their Aspen home was, and is, a beautiful place, elegantly done, and a short walk to the downtown center.  We had the great good fortune to have been there several times.  The Kerrs were deeply saddened and were still grieving, as it had been only a month since Stephen’s funeral and Dianne was undergoing chemo and was suffering a constant fatigue.

She was struggling terribly.  And George did his best to help her and shelter his own sadness.  It took them only a short time to consider and agree to make the trip.  I believed they knew that they had to try and keep living.  Those few years before she died, they worked hard trying to keep their sanity and maintain ongoing friendships and manage regular daily routines.

We all flew to Denver.  George, as is his wont, took his rightful place behind the wheel.  He had a passenger aversion and did not trust others to drive.  His attention to traffic was sporadic at best and he kept us all interested in the speedometer and curious as to whether we intended to stay on the road, for the duration of the trip.  We took a lunch break near Vail and continued on our way.  George confessed that he was having trouble maintaining the road as our rented minivan appeared to have some suspension issues.  And then he told us that the brakes seemed faulty, as well.  I suspected that we all were wondering why he was speeding, then.  Kath, who is not a good back seat passenger to begin with, managed to remain quiet (and stressed to the max) for the remainder off the drive, but Dianne more than made up for our silence.  The opportunity to irritate her may have played a small part in his decision to continue his record setting pace.  The views were fantastic, but no-one seemed to take a notice.  I did convince George to change cars at the rental agency at Aspen's airport.  That eased everyone's concern, ever so slightly, as we had the whole week ahead of us.  And the trip back to Denver.  May as well start to worry early.

We played golf every day at altitude and Dianne did not give up a day.  There were many times that George tried to get her to take it easy, but she remained determined not to miss a second of her time.   We played games, toured, and took long walks.  We walked to restaurants and ate all our meals out.  We played cards at every opportunity.  Dianne joined me for a Macallan nightcap every night.  She was an honest to god trooper.  George had his beer and Kath, her Crown.

We shared grief and sadness for a week and we laughed at every chance.  We just tried to ignore the elephant somehow.

Every day, after golf, we remained active and busy.  We toured in the car, only a few times.  We showed them every nook and cranny of Aspen.  By the time we left, they had hiked the Three Sisters, had seen the continental divide and visited every shop of interest.  We ate at Little Nell and Hotel Jerome. And we had breakfast every morning at a bakery, a short waddle from the house.  We drove back to Denver in the season's first serious snowfall.  Our timing could not have been better.

We had a most memorable time together, thanks to the kindness of Art and his bride.  We cannot thank them enough.  Their generosity is immense and cannot ever be properly repaid.

As we were prepping for my surgery, Dianne passed on.  She had never recovered from Stephen’s death and was happy to see him again.

With our love to you Dianne and to George, and to your family.  You will always be with us.

Dianne was the latest in a too long list of friends who have been taken by cancer.

Fight for your life if you are in treatment and if you have a friend or family member whose life is at risk, reach out to them right now.  Just let someone know today that you are with them in their journey.  Pray for someone.  Make a difference.

Thank you for hearing Dianne’s story.  It is one of many, I'm sad to say.

I don't know whether or not you follow the songs I list, but please, don't miss the lyrics of this one.

There was darkness.  And there is light.

See you next week.