John Quincy Adams V - Life Story in N&O

I received a call one morning a few weeks back, from a reporter working for the Raleigh, NC, News and Observer.  She wanted to feature John in an upcoming article, Life Stories.  Of course, I was thrilled.  I asked her why he was selected?  She said he looked like the type of person they normally featured.  I thought about it for a bit and did a little research.  I checked out the reporter's previous articles to see how she writes.  I have dealt with reporters for some time now during my stint on the Board of Education.  I didn't want just anyone writing about John.  I wanted someone who would do it right, and, after reading a few of her articles, I thought she passed muster.

She needed people to interview; family, friends, professional contacts, etc., so I made calls to a few folks, asking if they would mind talking with her.

After talking with several of them, she decided on her focus for the article.  "It's really hard with people like John," she said, "they have so many interesting aspects in their lives.  It is difficult with the limited space we have for the story to tell everything.  I keep thinking one day I am going to write a book about all these people and then I will have more freedom in what I can write about them."  Maybe she will.

So, to all John's friends and cohorts that agreed to be interviewed, I say, "Thanks".  John would be really proud.  I know I am.

As I ventured out this morning in the cold and still snow covered country to pick up a newspaper, my thoughts were of course on John.  As I drove up to the local Bojangles to pick up a copy of the N&O, I happened to see someone standing there inside the window.  It was an old friend.  He pointed down at the newspaper box, smiled, made a fist and gave me a "thumbs up".  Amazing how little things like that can mean so much.  Thanks "Dear Friend"!

PCQ

COURTESY OF PAT ADAMS

Adams

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BY ALETA PAYNE

Tags: lifestyle

If you gave John Quincy Adams V a reason, he'd cook a pig. Sometimes a whole one to celebrate a graduation or other special event. Sometimes just pounds of bacon - pig candy, he called it - to feed the breakfast and lunch crowds on the annual multifamily beach trip.

More than just a cook of pork, Adams was an expert on it. A farmer, he supported colleagues in that profession, serving on the state and national pork councils. He worked to ensure the future of the state's agriculture, encouraging sustainable practices with an emphasis on local producers and products years before others saw the point of it.

Adams was a go-to guy for small farmers and national agricultural leaders, writing grants, providing advice, anticipating what needed to happen next to nurture food production from the ground up.

"He was very forward-thinking in seeing there was some transition that was going to happen in agriculture and that needed to happen," said Nancy Creamer, director of the Center for Environmental Farming Systems at N.C. State University. "He was dedicated to helping producers make that transition and stay in business."

Adams was 61 when he died of cancer in November.

Long lineage

Adams came from generations of farmers, a vocational lineage that ends with him. His ancestors settled land in Beaufort that was granted to them by the British government more than 200 years ago.

Patricia Lee met Adams when they were students at N.C. State. He and his roommates were in the upstairs apartment; she and hers were looking for a television with good enough reception to pick up the State-UNC basketball game. Their neighbors above had one.

He was outgoing and tackled every challenge, said the woman who would become his wife.

"If you were picking teams for life, you'd pick him," she said.

She was quiet, more comfortable in the background. "I guess we fit together well," she said.

They married after graduation and by 1975 had started their own farm in Greene County.

Leader among men

John Adams quickly came to be regarded as a leader among the state's small farmers.

"He was the type of fellow that everyone would ask a question and he'd always give them guidance," said Bobby Ham, a sweet potato farmer Adams worked with. "He wouldn't tell them what to do. He'd give them guidance. He was just always wanting to help somebody."

Adams helped new, expanding and innovative producers write grants for their work. He mentored young farmers and their workers.

"John was the type of person when he got an idea, he just took that idea and went to work," said Deborah Johnson, CEO of the N.C. Pork Council, who served at the state and national level with Adams.

"He was candid about doing what was right. He might even take the other side of an issue to make sure we'd looked at every aspect of it. He wanted us to have all the information and wanted everyone to have a chance to have their input."

Fun with father

Even when Adams was having fun, farming was never far from his mind.

The Adamses' two daughters raised animals to show from the time they were in elementary school, including getting up in the night to check on them and going with their father to do other work on the farm.

Meredith Adams, now executive chef of her own restaurant, Eurasia Cafe in Mount Pleasant, S.C., credits that experience with helping her career.

"I probably wouldn't have what I have without the work ethic he taught me," she said.

Adams was also a fun dad, recalled younger daughter, Lauren, pulling them through rare Eastern North Carolina snow on a sled, towing them and friends down the Pamlico River in summer "making sure we were safe but making sure we were delighted. He was the most inspiring as far as fun goes."

Adams delighted friends with his food. The family took an annual two-week beach vacation with the same folks for three decades. Adams enjoyed the time doing his share of cooking and playing bocce.

And yes, there was the matter of his name, which brought its share of questions and teasing. While he could claim the sixth president as distant kin, the Fifth was named for an uncle.

ajpuva@att.net

An Annual Tradition

Don't remember the first year we decided to have a wreath party, but it sure was fun and it stuck.  We've been doing it ever since.  And this year was no exception.  I hesitated to have it, I was scheduled to have a chemo treatment that week and knew I would be too weak to do much prep work.  But, I kept thinking about John.  He would be really disappointed in me if I didn't keep it going.  So I did.

But not by myself.  A bunch of sweet elves rushed in and helped me get ready.  And what a day it was.  The great Snow Hill Christmas Parade and annual Wreath Party.

My friends gathered greens and got to work.  It was a wonderful day.

Great food!

Horseback riding!

And then it started snowing!  Caroline tried to catch a big flake on her tongue.

John always put a wreath on both ends of the horse barn for me.  My friends did it this year and I cried when they put them up.  It was always something John and I did together.  Amazing how little things that seem so insignificant at the time, become ever so special.

Merry Christmas
PCQ

Update on Me

I have received several requests for information and update on my medical condition.  Sorry I have neglected to do that.  This blog was set up for that very purpose, but with the other crisis in my life, my updates took a back seat as they should.

A CT scan, MRI, and bone scan were all performed a few weeks ago.  Good news from them, the growth has not changed.  That is what my oncologist and I were hoping for.  This type of cancer, especially with it invading bone tissue in my spine, is not expected to shrink.  All we can hope for is containment with the future hope that new drugs are in the pipeline and will be available once this chemo cocktail no longer works.  And unfortunately, that is the nature of this cancer.  The cancer will win at some time, unless a magic pill comes along.

I had chemo treatment #12 yesterday with this second round of drugs (the first group didn't work and there was some change/growth).  For the first time since June, my blood pressure was almost normal.  The visit two weeks ago, and just after John's death, my pressure was off the chart and it really startled me.  Continued high blood pressure can damage internal organs. Thankfully, my friends Paula and Joan were with me for the results from the scans during that visit.  Of course, I had to prepare myself for any news that my doctor might give.  It is just the way you have to live when you have cancer.

The chemo treatment yesterday was a bit scary at the beginning.  I have a port in my upper left chest (you can read my blog entry about getting that put in last March) and when the nurses "hook me up" they have to flush the lines to make sure there is good return and flow through the port.  When she started the hookup, which in itself is painful as they must insert a butterfly needle into the port entry under the skin.  Some people don't have much pain but others do.  I fit in the later category.  Mine hurts.

Anyway, as she was flushing the line, I realized she was not pleased with what was happening.  I don't usually look when they do all these procedures.  It just helps if I don't see it.  I don't look when they take blood, don't look when they start up IVs.....though I didn't have any trouble when John was having his procedures done.  Guess it is just me.  So, I have learned, look away and think about sitting on the beach with a warm, salty breeze blowing on my face.  That works.

But she couldn't get the flush to go into the port.  She could pull it out, but when she changed directions, nothing happened.  She called over another nurse and they started working on me.  By now alarms were going off in my head....what will they have to do, what if they can't get it to go in, will I have to have this port removed and another inserted....YIKES!  Panic.

She kept trying, asking me to raise my arm, cough, take deep breaths.  I told her I had injured my left arm a few weeks ago and it was still sore.  She started feeling my line running under my skin up over the collarbone and then it heads down to my heart.  The line appeared to be kinked there.  She kept working and finally, OUCH, something popped and the flow started.  Guess when I strained my shoulder, it did something to the line, but it was working now.  Whew.....

Dr. Mahajan added another drug to my cocktail today.  It will hopefully help with the queasiness I have been having the first week.  I have something for nausea, but the queasiness and hiccups were becoming more of a problem for me.  So far, it has helped!

So, as of now, I am doing okay and will stay on these meds till they stop working.  I told my doctor I was doing a little financial planning and needed to know a few things.  He told me to expect the best but plan on the worst.

Enough said.  Guess I probably won't run out of money before I run out of life.

Still pulling my wagon.
PCQ

Messages of Love

I have received so many emails from John's online "girlfriends and buddies", as I called them. As many of you know, John joined an online smoking cessation group on about.com when he stopped smoking many years ago.  He met so many wonderful people all over the world and as he became more confident in his "quit", he started paying forward and helping the newbies as they came in the group, struggling to stop the Nicodemon.  All the people he met thought he was wonderful, nicknamed him Brother John, and so appreciated his help.  Maybe they didn't know but they were helping him even more.  See, when you quit, you can have a QuitMeter on your computer that ticks off the number of cigarettes you would have smoked, how much money you have saved, and how many days you have added to your life.  You also have your quit date on your profile and if you smoke just ONE cigarette, then you must start all over.  Each milestone, is marked with a key presentation.  John learned from those that walked before him and he wanted to help others.  

Here's a touching email from one of his friends that I would like to share with you.

Dear Pat,

    I rarely visit the smoking forum, so only just learned that John is now with our Father.  As you more than anyone know, he was such a good man.  I had received a bad doctor's report and continuing to smoke was not even a remote alternative.  I have no family in this area, none of my friends smoked -- I was pretty scared and felt very alone.  John was the first person I met in the forum and I vividly remember he was celebrating his 100th smoke-free day.  John extended the hand of friendship over the miles and not only did I no longer feel alone, the fear was replaced with strength.

    He often talked about you, Pat -- always referring to you as his bride.  I recall asking him about his family and he told me "32 years ago I married my best friend and beer drinking buddy."  He shared that he had a long spell of not smoking after an accident in 94 -- "because my bride wouldn't get me any" .. When he talked about you, I could literally feel the deep love and I remember thinking one evening that you and he had one of those rare loves, the kind that stretches beyond time and space as we know it.

    When Lauren was coming to St. Louis for interviews, John asked about the universities and I was able to send him information on them.  We talked about meeting for a cup of coffee when you all visited here, but life seems to have gotten in the way.

    I know John has now touched the face of God and he has been healed and made whole.  And I also know that he lives on here in the hearts and memories of the many whose lives he touched.  I think there will be times when you feel a gentle breeze caress your cheek when there is no wind at all -- and you will know it is just John saying hello and looking out for you.

    You and your daughters will stay in my prayers.

Fondly,

XXXXXX

The next email was an addition to the one above....I have left out her name because it really wasn't needed.  Her love comes through without it.

Pat,

    I meant to tell you that one of the forum members opened a thread for John.  I'm sure that someone probably let you know, but too many times we all wait because we thought someone else did it.  You can get to it with this link   92149.1

    I read your blog and cried many tears with and for you.  If you do not mind, I would like to share something else with you.  I am a three-time cancer survivor.  I went into surgery on the third bout with the knowledge that my odds of surviving were 99 to 1 that I would not survive.  And I nearly did not.  I am told my family was called to the hospital about 3:00 a.m. to say their goodbyes, but I don't remember seeing anyone.  At some point, I seemed to be floating above my hospital bed and I could clearly see my doctor on one side of me and my minister on the other.  I knew they were praying, but I was unaware of any sound.  Suddenly I seemed enveloped in a lavender cloud.  I don't remember actually seeing this cloud, it was more of an impression of lavender.  But the strongest impression I had was of love -- just the purest and most beautiful love, and it was so powerful that I knew that no human could endure even the tiniest bit more.

    I cannot explain this, but I suddenly knew that it was my choice -- I could go along with the cloud, or I could return to that hospital bed.  The hospital bed meant agonizing pain. The lavender love meant the end of the pain.  Even now, I'm kind of amazed that I remember analyzing my choices.  Thanksgiving had just passed and my entire family had come to my home for the holiday.  It was an especially good holiday with everyone sharing a lot of love,  I knew that my family knew I loved them.  My friends had been more than supportive.  I thought of my best friend.  She was having a terribly hard time -- her marriage was failing, her finances almost non-existent.  We had a discount store whose merchandise was composed of stock other stores had been unable to sell.  To try to boost her spirits, she had bought herself a new dress.  I remember her telling me that it cost $4.00.  And I suddenly wished I had told her how nice it looked on her.  Poof!  I was back in that hospital bed, wracked with pain.  December will mark the XXth anniversary of that night -- and I am still here. 

    I always thought that if I had a near death experience, I'd see that tunnel with the light at the end; or some relative or dear person who had passed on coming to escort me.  But what I recall is the impression of a lavender cloud and a love so strong and so pure that it is indescribable.  From that day to this, I have had no fear of dying.  I know that love all wrapped up in lavender will be waiting,  Somehow I know, Pat, that John began his journey enveloped in the love of you and your daughters and, though I don't know if his cloud was lavender, I know he was met and escorted home on a cloud of almost unendurably pure love. 

Fondly,

XXXX

Share the love....what a beautiful note from John's friend that I will probably never meet.

PCQ

QR Codes

I love it when I find out about something new, it's just the way I am.  John always thought I embraced new technology.  I guess that I do, I am certainly not afraid of it.  Just never seemed an option to dismiss new things.  We have to learn about them or we are left behind.

And, I always perk up when I see something new.  QR codes (QR stands for Quick Response) were something new for me.  I first noticed it when Jake, Lauren's boyfriend, had one for his Facebook photo.  Didn't have a clue what it was, just thought it was cute, so he did one for me.  Still, no lights on yet.  Then one day, while reading CNN news, I saw an article about an ad on the giant billboard in Times Square.  It was a QR code.  The article explained the "intelligent people" would use their "smartphones" to scan the ad.  All the other dumb people, that would be me, would look at the smart folk holding their phones up to the ad and wonder what the heck they were doing.

Not wanting to be one of the dumb people, I kept reading.  The ad in Times Square was a QR code ad only accessible by using an application on your smartphone.  When you scan the ad, it would give information for Calvin Klein jeans.

Since that day, I have seen two QR codes.  One was in the Pitt Memorial Hospital cafeteria, with a statement "Change is coming", or something like that.  The other, an ad for Crocs and pictured below, I just saw in Rachel Ray's magazine.  Thought I would share with all of you....so you will be one of the smart folk too.

The QR code is in the bottom left. They are sort of like our bar codes here and are ubiquitous in Japan.  Keep your eyes open.  Bet you will see more of them soon.

PCQ

Hair

My hair has stopped coming out.  Of course that is a relief.  With all that has been going on in my life, dealing with a bald head was not something I was looking forward to, especially with the cold weather and wind.

I had been saving it so I could monitor how much I had lost.  It filled up the bag.

Funny thing, it started at the same time John started to lose his hair.   I mentioned it to my doctor and the chemotherapy nurses.  The doctor told me it should have already happened if it was going to fall out.  By that, he meant it should have occurred during the second treatment. I was in my 7th treatment when it started.

In researching the medications I take, generally, 30% will be bald, 30% will have heavy thinning of hair, and 30% will not have anything.  But it shouldn't be happening now.  When I talked with the chemo nurses, who see the 'down and dirty' of what happens in chemo treatment, they said it was, "surrogate" loss.  What?

"It most likely is sympathy loss for John," she said, "If it was going to happen from the chemo treatment, you would have lost it months ago.  We do see it sometimes with husbands and wives when their partners are going through a tough time.  It is sort of like a husband having morning sickness when his wife is pregnant."

John and I found it amusing.  We would both stand in front of the mirror and compare hair loss.  He was starting to look like Linus, and I teased him about it.  When he slept at night or napped on the sofa, it looked like a cat had curled up there with all the hair that came out.  I finally talked him into a haircut so he didn't look like a Linus Chia Pet anymore.  After the haircut, he looked like Charlie Brown.  But that was okay.  I love Charlie Brown.

PCQ

PCMH - Continued - November 1

The door to John's room was open and we could see the activity in the hall.  The move had begun.  Lots of people, carts, and machines were being systematically moved, one room at the time.  We were next.  And it is not easy.  Heart monitor, oxygen tank, IV pole, and oh yeah....the patient, had to be moved, hopefully with no negative impact.  But that was my job.  I kept checking his tubes to make sure he was still getting oxygen.  One time it was unhooked for a move and reconnection was inadvertently missed.  Didn't take long before John's oxygen levels started dropping.  That's how we learn.  Mistakes are made and we learn to not let that happen again.  So, I was like a mother hen rushing around making sure my baby was just fine.

As the crow flies, it was not a great distance from the oncology ward to the Heart Institute, but going by way of the inner halls, it was quite a hike.  Soon we were in room 603.  And what a difference.  The large windows were allowing the Monday morning sun to stream in.  Lauren and I set about getting our nest made in this room and it was ever so much nicer.  The nurses and care partners were scurrying around, finding their stations and getting things in order.

It was noisy, so I closed the door.  There was so much activity in the halls and we were tired.  Lauren left the room to make a few phone calls and John said, "Come sit on the bed with me."  I sat beside of him and he held my hand.  Out the large windows, we could see the top of the trees with their beautiful fall colors, what a wonderful sunny day.  Off in the distance, the ECU football stadium.

"This is not the way I thought it would go down.  I don't think I will live through the night," John said.  I looked at him, confused.  "What are you talking about?  I know you feel bad, but give the new medications time to work,"  I said.  "You have to allow a little bit of time." Tears were starting to stream down my face.  As hard as I wanted to remain positive, I saw it too.  But I was still hopeful that he would get better.

"I've gotten worse the past 5 days.  I've looked after animals a long time and I know what happens when they are about to die.  My kidneys aren't working right, my swelling is getting worse, the uric acid will build up.  I just don't think he will be able to turn things around this time."

"Let's give the medicine a little more time, it's only been a few hours," I said pleading with him.

"Don't go your chemo treatment tomorrow, I'm going to need you here," he said.

"We can make that decision in the morning, right now, let's just focus on you getting better, okay?"

"It's been a good run, Boogie, we've had a good life, two beautiful girls, great friends.  Don't think I could have asked for anyone to have been any better to me and you know I love you.  You've sure gone above and beyond the past few months," he said.

"I wish I could have done more for you.  You know I love you so much," I said.

"I know you do, I have never doubted that," he said.

Sometimes, during his illness, it seemed as though all I did was hurt him.  Changing bandages, giving meds, draining his Pleurx catheter, flushing PICC lines, things that had to be done that most of the time involved pain.  But they had to be done.  Even the mundane rituals like brushing his teeth were painful.  He had horrid sores on his tongue and gums.  Just looking at them made me hurt, but he never complained and did his best to brush.  And being the medical wimp that I am, it was sometimes difficult for me to do some of these things and John knew that.  But it was even more difficult for him, but he never complained.  He always thanked me for any task that I had done and though he wasn't able to help me any more, he would tell me to get the lotion and come sit by him and he would do the only things he was still able to do, rub lotion on my hands or feet.  Chemotherapy can cause neuropathy in your hands and feet.  John and I both had that, though John's was much worse than mine due to his swelling.  It is exacerbated by a lot of walking or standing.  Apparently, the medications given will leak out in the extremities and cause nerve endings to be impacted....and not in a good way.  It is actually very common.  Thankfully, mine would diminish some as time passed between treatments, though it never completely goes away.  John's stayed constant and he was beginning to lose feeling in his feet.  That caused him to be unsteady and I insisted he use the walker when he would get up.

We sat there holding hands, tears rolling down our cheeks, looking out the window.  What do you say?

To be continued....
PCQ

PCMH - Continued

John was whisked away to his room with me and Lauren in tow.  When we arrived on the floor, it was quiet, but the first person we saw was Darryl, one of his nurses on a prior visit.  We called him Darryl and his other brother Darryl, from an old TV show, The Bob Newhart Show.  Didn't take long before we were in the room....though getting his bed in took a bit of maneuvering due to the poor room design.  Think I could have done a better design on one of my bad days.

Anyway, just as we were starting to make our nest, we were told the whole unit was moving that day.  It was now, Monday, November 1st, and the Oncology ward was being moved to the Heart Institute so it could get a much needed renovation.  Was I happy?  Yes, but my biggest concern was making sure John was taken care of during this move and transition.  So easy for little things to fall between the cracks when there are distractions.   And a M.A.S.H. style move would be a major distraction.

By now it was nearly 5 a.m.  The room was small and there was only one chair that would recline, so Lauren grabbed a pillow and blanket and went looking for a quiet place to rest.  John was comfortable in a real bed.  The beds in the ER are smaller and less accommodating, but they allow for the needs of the ER.  I took a blanket and pillow and did my best to get comfy in the one chair in the room.  I was by the window and as I lay there saying my prayers, I looked out across the parking lot.  With the street lights, I could see people walking to their cars, delivery trucks coming and going.  The world was getting ready to wake up.  As I watched and thought, it occurred to me, I didn't know where Lauren went.  Suppose something happens and I need to find her right away?  I quietly got up and wandered down the hall to the rooms that were once the oncology waiting rooms and conference areas.  They were all empty and dark in anticipation of the move.  Finally, through a window I caught a glimpse of a crumpled, while blanket with a wisp of red hair falling out over the pillow.  I'd found my baby and she seemed to be asleep.

I went back to the room.  John was still quiet so I gently slipped back into my chair, arranged my pillow and blanket and drifted off to sleep.  Didn't take long for the quiet to be interrupted.  I mean we were in the  hospital, and it is no place to get rest.  Darryl was checking to make sure everything was ready for the move.  He rummaged through the cabinets, unhooked some stuff from the walls, and piled it all on John's bed.  Then off he went.  I looked at John, "If you need to go to the bathroom, you'd best do it soon before you are completely covered with hospital equipment."

Lauren came in and went over to the chair by the window.  "Can I crash here a bit, they are moving stuff in the hallway and I couldn't get back to sleep."  "Sure, go ahead and rest, I have a few emails to send," I said.

There was a small chair on the other side of John's bed, so I sat there.  Soon, Lauren was napping in the chair.  The morning sun was picking up the red highlights in her hair.  I couldn't help but notice John.  He was laying in the bed looking at her.  She did look so sweet cuddled there.  I guess as parents, we are lucky enough to have all those wonderful memories stored away of when they were small and needed us so much.  Looking at her resting, it was almost like a flashback to 30 years ago when she was still our "little girl".  But now she is an adult, teaching other adults at the university, and we are so proud of her.  But I looked at John.  He just stared at her.  I wanted to ask him what he was thinking, but thought it best to let him enjoy looking at his baby.

Breakfast trays were soon delivered, the day began.  John's doctor came by and talked with us.  He was changing some medications and would check back later in the day and he left.  Lauren was not happy with the questions I asked and the answers I received.  I encouraged her to go find him and clear up her concerns.  And she did.  She was upset, her dad was sick and she wanted to know more.  John and I certainly understood her frustration.  Guess we were conditioned to all of this, we had been going non stop, bombarded by things that had to be done, decisions that had to be made, learning all we could, and we didn't like any of it either.  Makes you want to wrap yourself up in the tin foil of life and hope it will protect you.  Life is quite different when you step into the "cancer world".  You just look at things, react to things, differently.  You don't have any other choice.

Before long, the move began.  Our wagon was being pulled again.

To be continued....
PCQ

PCMH

It was 12:00 midnight and we were on our way to the hospital.  When we drove away, I usually look at the house and hope I will bring John back safe and sound soon.  Strange, that night I didn't look.

John was doing okay on the way to the hospital and other than a HP traffic stop at the Greene-Pitt County line, all went well.  When we stopped, Lauren was rummaging through my purse trying to find my license. I thought about telling the officer it was an emergency and we were on our way to the hospital, but I didn't know if that would create more drama, so I just dug out my license and started to hand it to him.  Before I got it completely out, he said, "I see them Ms. Adams, you can go on."  Lauren said to me, "He must have known who you are, you didn't even get your license all the way out of the holder."  It didn't matter, all I wanted to do was get my baby to the hospital.

When we arrived at the hospital, Lauren ran in and told them we needed help getting John out.  Two burly men appeared and in no time, John was in a wheelchair headed to the ER.  I parked the car and rushed inside.  Lauren was giving them his information, John had already been taken to the ER.  Once I came in, I was directed to a lady to finish his check in.  I hadn't had to do this before, so I was a little flummoxed by why I had to do it now.  "We just left this morning," I said, when she asked me for our address.  She entered it and then asked for phone number and other information.  I queried her again, "You should have all of this information, we just checked out this morning."  She asked me about who our insurance was with and if finally occurred to me, she has the wrong person pulled up.  After getting that all straightened out, I rushed back to be with John and Lauren.

The ER swat team had already started.  Taking temperature, blood pressure, blood samples, (again, they were happy he had a PICC line, saves them lots of work), swabbing Mersa samples from his nose, doing X-Rays, getting information into the system, hooking him up to an EKG machine and putting those awful little sticky receptors on.  John was doing well giving them his vitals and as before, he would ask about our friend, Jonsie, a nurse there.  But she was on vacation to the islands, he had forgotten.

Before long, the initial frenzy was over, now we wait for the blood tests, x-ray results, and anything else.  They had put John on 100% oxygen and it had eased his labored breathing and we all sat there looking at each other.   One of the nurses came in, it was a "he", very personable and smart.  John was in good hands.

But it was Halloween, where were all the crazies we thought we would see?  About that time, a stretcher goes by with a young man with face paint on.  Guess it was starting.  "We thought this place would be a zoo tonight, where is everyone?" I said.  "Won't start till around 2:30 a.m. when all the bars close.  We have about 20 doctors and medical personnel stationed at strategic locations downtown to try and get some of them helped before they come to the hospital," he said.  "With Halloween being on Sunday night, it may be a little better, we had quite a few in here last night."

John was resting comfortably now, so to entertain ourselves, Lauren and I kept watch for 'trick or treaters'.

Before long, the doctor came in with the test results.  Nothing major to report, potassium levels were a little off, x-ray looked good, heart okay.  Starting prednisone, an antibiotic as he could be developing pneumonia, get a breathing treatment, maybe some Lasix to help with swelling in his legs and feet, major issue was his oxygen level.  Of course now, his levels were good, but he was on 100% oxygen.  Not good, would need to that down to a normal level.

By now it was nearly 4 a.m., time flies when you are having fun.  They told us he would be assigned to a room soon.....in the "ghetto ward'.  Unfortunately, the oncology or cancer ward, was in the old section of the hospital.  The staff there is wonderful, but the rooms are small and ill designed.  So, after John's first hospital stay in the new and very impressive Heart Institute...our tax money at work, I might add, we were spoiled.  Moving from the large, well appointed rooms at the Heart Institute (the Palace is the name given by staff) to the Oncology Ward was like going from the executive suite at the Marriott to Motel 6, no comparison. So, we had started calling it affectionately, the "ghetto ward".  His doctors even teased him and called it that too.  But, we would have a room for him and maybe everyone could rest.

To be continued....
PCQ

Songs

It is impressive how songs can instantly transport us back to a happy or sad time.  Not all songs, just special ones.

That happened to me yesterday.

It started out a little shaky as I wasn't feeling well.  Lots of nausea on Thursday and didn't sleep well. Leslie was coming with her two ankle biters and I was so excited about the visit, but, would I feel good enough to have fun with them?  I deliberated calling her to postpone the date, but, I decided it would be best to just stay on course and if I wasn't feeling any better when they arrived, Leslie would understand.

We had a wonderful visit, no crying from me or the children.  We had a great time, eating lunch, making stuff, and looking at photos from summer.  I really surprised myself.  We even watched a video with John getting the dog's ball out from under the pier on our pond.  Soon, they had to leave.

Later, friends came over to bring a chair.  Another good time, good memories.

Then the phone rang, let's have dinner at O'Cool's tonight.  Sure, see you there.  Would I be able to go and not cry the whole time?  Friday nights at O'Cool's had been something John and I had enjoyed with friends many times.  This would be my first time without him.  Luckily, there were lots of friends there and everyone had so many stories and things to share, I managed to make it through the evening with no major episode.

But on the way home, listening to the Oldies station and Stevie Wonder came on singing, "Yester me, Yester you, Yesterday".    You can listen and cry along with me at the link below.

Stevie Wonder Singing "Yesterday"

As soon as the first note played, the tears welled up in my eyes.  The song made me miss John so much.  I was instantly transported back to the day we found out about his cancer and how dire our situation was.   It was a beautiful sunny, fall, day.  John was driving home, "the back way", as I call it, so I could see the big field of sunflowers.  He knew it made me happy to ride by and see those little yellow heads, all pointing in the same direction as the sun, hence the name, Sunflowers. (Also, did you know when they mature, they stop turning and all point east?)

We were both quiet, thinking about what we had just heard, trying to take it all in.  Stevie Wonder's song came on the radio.  I have always loved Stevie Wonder.  He was born less than a month before me and his songs define my high school and college days.  Can't hear his old songs without a flood of memories.....and so it was that day.  But the song took on a different meaning this time.  Every word, every line seemed to say what I was feeling.  What happened to....the world we knew....


What happened to the world we knew
When we would dream and scheme
And while the time away
Yesterme yesteryou yesterday

Where did it go that yester glow
When we could feel
The wheel of life turn our way
Yesterme yesteryou yesterday

I had a dream so did you life
Was warm and love was true
Two kids who followed all the rules
Yester folls and now

Now it seems those yester dreams
Were just a cruel
And foolish game we used to play
Yesterme yesteryou yesterday

When I recall what we had
I feel lost I feel sad with nothing but
The memory of yester love and now
Now it seems those yester dreams
Were just a cruel
And foolish game we had to play

Yesterme yesteryou yesterday
Yesterme yesteryou yesterday
Sing with me
Yesterme yesteryou yesterday
One more time....

As the song played on the radio, the tears rolled down my cheeks.  I turned my head to look out the window so John wouldn't see me crying.  The sun was bright and I tried so hard to be strong but Stevie's words were wrapping around my heart and I knew my life...our life, was in for a big change, one I didn't like.  I could see the future I imagined with John melting away.

I reached over and touched John's big strong arm.  "I love you," I said.  He looked at me and saw the tears.  "I know you do, Sweetheart, I've never doubted that.  I love you, too." He gently wiped a tear coming down my cheek.  "We'll make it through all of this, don't you worry," he said.

Soon we rounded the corner and there were the sunflowers.  All smiling at me.  Yes, the world would go on.  The sun will come up tomorrow, but I will never forget the love I saw in his eyes.

But "when I recall, I had a dream, so did you, was warm and love was true....I feel lost...I feel sad....yester me, yester you, yesterday."

PCQ