In the third leg of a tough west coast road trip, the Chicago Bulls took the Los Angeles Lakers down to the wire in a game that went long into the night.
I have, over the last fourteen years, had many feelings about Mike’s inevitable death. Terror, anger, confusion, grief… What I never expected was to spend his last weeks overcome with gratitude.
I have lost count of the things I am grateful for, and all of them come down to what I know about glioblastoma and brain injuries and strokes. They all come down to what I feared about these inevitabilities, and how they would affect the man I love, and our family. This gratitude only manages to express itself in list form, a grim diyenu of worst-case, or even worse-case scenarios.
At no point did Mike’s brain cancer change his personality. At no point did it cause him debilitating seizures. At no point did it cause him blindness or aphasia, or deafness. Mike spent almost fourteen years with tumors in his brain, and they caused him weakness in his left leg. Mike spent almost fourteen years with tumors in his brain, and it was a stroke that took the use of his left hand, his non-dominant hand, that caused him the most grief.
It’s been more than fourteen years since the first time he mentioned brain cancer symptoms to me. It was October or November 2006, it was starting to get cold, and his nightly jogs were becoming a minor struggle as one leg didn’t move the way he expected it to.
“You need to see a doctor, that sounds neurological,” I said. He brushed me off. Healthy 24yo athletes don’t have neurological problems. Besides, just because my doctors had put me through the wringer a few times looking for brain tumors didn’t mean EVERYONE had to go looking for them. I was young, 22, and I didn’t push.
Six months later the softball season was starting, and he found himself struggling when running bases. This time, I pushed. This time, he went to the doctor. And his doctor also told him he was fine. He needed to stretch better. He was so strong. He was so healthy. I let it go.
I’m grateful for that, too. If that doctor hadn’t dismissed him, he would have been stuck getting treatment from his HMO and not the incredible team who DID find his cancer and gave him so many years. He would have started treatment before we were engaged and he might never have asked. I might not have had the chance to be his advocate, something he credits with his survival and though I credit myself less, it did teach me 90% of my organizational skills.
We wouldn’t have had our life if he’d found his tumors sooner, or differently. We wouldn’t have our children. Our happiness. And through all of it, he has made it look easy. Until 2019.
There are so many small griefs I’m grateful for. My husband, the love of my life, the best human I have ever known, has eased me into my grief in ways I am only beginning to see. After seven months of him sleeping in a hospital bed (with intermittent months of him sleeping in a hospital), I am already getting used to being in our bed alone. I am already used to not being able to ask him to help me put things on tall shelves or change lightbulbs or get rid of spiders. I am already used to being the bedtime parent, and the morning parent, and the parent who has to troubleshoot technical problems with devices and wifi and whatnot. I haven’t had sex with my husband since March, nearly a year, and while I’m full of grief over this as well, it’s another thing that is not new. After his stroke, I made myself seriously ill from lack of minimal self-care, and I’ve spent the last year learning my own husbandry.
So many of the small comforts of our life together have slipped away from me while he is still here, so there will be fewer things to mourn beyond his physical presence, his love, his person in my life. “This is a kindness,” I tell myself extemporaneously, daily, sometimes hourly, and I am grateful for it.
When from one day to the next so much is different, when one day he could stand to move to the wheelchair and the next he couldn’t, and the next he couldn’t remain sitting more than an hour, and the next he stayed in bed, I am grateful that things are moving so quickly. A man ready to die after fourteen years of constant awareness of oncoming oblivion deserves to choose his time. When he began to spend more and more hours each day asleep, I was grateful. The sleep is part of death, and the sleep spares him from so much of the anguish in the house. When he stopped being able to swallow his pills but did not start suffering sudden, violent seizures, I was grateful. When he couldn’t speak all day, but then looked at me and croaked, “I love you,” three times, I was grateful. When he watched the kids watch Fantasia, too weak to speak but happy to see his children at his side, I was grateful.
I’m less grateful now, now that I know how close we have to be. Now that his breaths are so shallow and his lungs so full of fluid, now that his kidneys are shutting down and he is so often in pain when he’s awake. We are almost at the end and part of me wishes there was so much more. Another fourteen years. Another two.
Just one more anniversary.
Just Valentine’s Day.
Just watching the inauguration of a president who wants people like Mike to have the kind of care the ACA gave us. Just long enough to see Trump impeached again. Just long enough that Mike outlasts Trump.
But these are fleeting, these wishes. He is ready to die. I am ready (as ready as I can be) for him to be out of suffering, out of pain, out of this earth. We have done so much to prepare, Mike and I. Mike leaves children who know how much he loves them. He leaves them with hours of his voice in interviews, explaining that he knows he must die and that they are his greatest joy. Their father’s voice in the Library of Congress, archived forever for anyone to find. His grandchildren. His great-grandchildren. When the two of us are no more than family legend, that love and peace will still be there.
What a gift it is, those words. And I am grateful.
He leaves a community of friends who will never abandon his children and widow. And I am grateful.
He leaves a home full to the brim of memories of love and joy, of jokes and laughter, he leaves very little that is his alone. And for that, too, I am grateful.
At the beginning of the pandemic, I felt strangely at peace with the world. People were panicking, terrified, worried about their loved ones and illness and things so far beyond their control, and it felt right. The rest of the world shared the anxiety I was living in, the world and I were in the same place.
The world spent much of 2020 moving on, blaming the calendar and not having to grapple with specifics. But as in any year, people got cancer, people died of cancer, people were married, people had babies. Life doesn’t stop because of one horrible thing taking up all your emotional bandwidth, if I have learned anything these last fourteen years, it’s that.
And as we approached 2021, the country and the world focused on 2020 as the problem, not on the conditions that created this shitstorm. I held my tongue. My 2021 would be marked, early, by Mike’s passing. My 2021 will be defined by grief and healing, by rebuilding a family of four from a family of five, by accepting changes I don’t want but also fill me with anticipation of an almost joyous sort. I don’t get to choose these things, they simply are.
Now that the country is on fire, with flames set and stoked by the exiting president, it feels comforting and appropriate that everyone around me is learning this lesson. Of course 2021 was going to start with trauma, there was never a chance Trump would leave peacefully. Of course 2021 was going to start with grief, pandemics don’t abruptly end as they’re crescendoing. Of course these pains would be.
My husband is leaving this world and doing so with more grace and dignity and peace than I have ever witnessed. It is an honor to be at his side, telling him I love him and that he has done everything right. Telling him we’re going to be okay, that he’s seen to it. Telling him he has nothing left on Earth he must do. Telling him over and over again how much I love him.
“I’m going to spend the rest of my life trying to be the person you’ve always believed I already am,” I told him. His eyes stayed closed, but he whispered, “You’re perfect.”
Each time he smiles, it’s like the sun rising in my chest. His smiles, however faint, buoy me. I think again and again and again about our wedding day. In my dress and veil, I walked down the aisle. Mike put his hands on my shoulders, grinning in a dizzy, disbelieving way, lifted my veil, and leaned in.
“Not yet,” I whispered. “You have to wait to kiss me until the end!”
Now, between sleep and delirium, he smiles and purses his lips.
This is the end.
I close my eyes and kiss him.
You can donate to a GoFundMe for Mike’s end-of-life care here: Love for the Grover Family
You can read more about Mike’s last year here: Brain Surgery in the era of Coronavirus
Read my most recent post here: Our Last New Year’s Eve
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Lea Grover scribbles about sex-positive parenting, marriage after cancer, and vegetarian cooking. When she isn’t revising her upcoming memoir, she can be found singing opera, smeared to the elbow in pastels, or complaining/bragging about her children on twitter (@bcmgsupermommy) and facebook.
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Waiting for the Endon January 9, 2021 at 3:28 pm Read More »
This blog post is the 35th in a series about my (and twin sister’s) preventative breast cancer screening journey that began when we were 30 years old in July 2019. Here is a list of all of the posts written about our journey at Mayo Clinic’s Breast Clinic in Rochester, Minnesota, to date. To keep tabs on new posts, sign up for the “A Daily Miracle” email list at this link.
My twin sister traveled down to Mayo Clinic in Rochester with her husband yesterday for her 12th infusion of T-DM1/Kadcyla and now she’s 85.7% of the way done with her post-operative chemotherapy regimen!
Here are a few highlights from their visit including praises and new prayer requests for us at this moment in time (full details follow in the blog post below)–thank you so much again for your prayers for us as we travel this journey together!:
Here is my twin sister knocking out her 12th infusion of T-DM1 at Mayo Rochester!!!
My twin sister’s 12th infusion of T-DM1/Kadcyla: Only 2 left!!!
My twin sister knocked out her 12th infusion of T-DM1 / Kadcyla without a reaction of any kind, had a nurse that was excellent at inserting her IV, and was in and out in just over 30 minutes of infusion time!
We do not take these victories for granted and are so thankful for the excellent care she’s received on her chemo journey at Mayo Rochester!
“I’m totally over getting chemotherapy infusions, but it’s going to be weird when this is all done,” she told me yesterday. “It’s been really nice to know that I’m able to go there and get the chemo done and everyone is taking good care of me.”
“You’re right!, it’s been a huge blessing to know you’ve been taken such good care of on the chemo floor!,” I said. “But the next step of survivorship will be great! They’ll continue taking great care of you at your follow-up appointments every few months!!”
“You’re right,” she said.
But survivorship is a much different journey than breast cancer treatment is, as I’ve written about in my posts about my 6-month and 12-month survivorship consult appointments. It’s a mental game!
Here is the view from my twin sister’s chemotherapy infusion room, she was so excited to have a window room overlooking Mayo’s campus in Rochester!
My twin sister’s update with her oncologist and remaining care plan!
My twin sister had an excellent appointment with her oncologist yesterday and was able to learn more about what the journey looks like from here.
First of all, she had an update with him about her blood levels and heart health so far. She gets a blood test before each infusion to make sure her platelets and neutrophils are where they need to be, and he was pleased with her results yesterday. Apparently, oncologists don’t get concerned unless platelet levels go down to 50, and my twin sister’s are holding steady around 165-70.
By the end of 2021, all of the chemotherapy should be out of her system and everything should be back to normal! My twin sister’s platelets were in the 368 range before chemotherapy started, but according to her oncologist, invasive cancer causes inflammation and increased platelet range, so my twin sister’s “normal” platelet level is more likely around 250. Now they are at 165-170, which he said is just fine.
My twin sister’s echocardiogram came back great as well! T-DM1/Kadcyla can cause problems with the left ventricle, but my twin sister’s heart is functioning at a great level which is a huge praise!!!
This, and the positive levels of everything else, are largely due to my twin sister’s healthy diet and exercise! She’s currently enrolled in a research study at Mayo Clinic about exercise: She’s been working out at least 30 minutes every day and that’s contributing to her well-being and physical health as a breast cancer survivor!
I’m not formally enrolled in the study but I’m doing my best to get 30 minutes of exercise in per day, too. 🙂
Here is my twin sister’s blood test results from yesterday–everything is looking good thanks to healthy diet and exercise!
Second, follow-up appointments after my twin sister’s chemotherapy infusions include appointments with her oncology team every 3 to 6 months. She will either see her chemo nurse practitioner or her oncologist for a physical exam to check for recurrence. Also, at one of these appointments shortly after her chemotherapy treatments are over, they are going to do a one-off blood test to test for any changes in her DNA that could indicate recurrent cancer of any kind. The good news is that, often times with aggressive metastatic breast cancer, a recurrence happens within the first 18 months, and my twin sister’s oncologist isn’t worried about recurrence at all–she is all clear at month 9 since surgery and month 16 since diagnosis!!!
Third, my twin sister’s oncologist said that he looks forward to meeting with my twin sister and her husband at the end of 2021 to continue conversations about family planning! They have 28 eggs in a freezer at a fertility clinic in the city after a successful egg retrieval procedure in fall 2019. Even though my twin sister was one of the less than 1% of patients who ended up in the hospital with ovarian hyperstimulation syndrome which was terrifying, we are all optimistic their attempt to have babies via in vitro fertilization (IVF) in 2022 will be successful!!! God has a plan for their future family and He is good!!!
Fourth, my twin sister’s oncologist is befuddled by her microcystic edema and thinks it could be a result of T-DM1, could be a result of Tamoxifen, or could be the result of a combination of both. He said that, because T-DM1 is so new, he is not sure if it’s one or the other or drugs interplaying together because sometimes endocrine therapy and chemotherapy drugs together have interaction effects. However, he is optimistic the microcystic edema will go away at end of T-DM1 as it appears to be directly correlated with her infusions, and he’s glad she’s going to see eye doctor at Mayo again soon!
Fifth, my twin sister doesn’t need to worry about any sort of long-term side effects of T-DM1/Kadcyla! The only potential side effect her oncologist mentioned was “chemo brain,” but he also said there’s no cognitive test for “chemo brain” that can say “this person lost a few IQ points,” etc.–and, as I’ve written about my cancer survivorship before, I feel dumber now than I did last year, too, and it might just be middle age because I didn’t even go through chemotherapy. Ha, ha! But my twin sister’s oncologist said if she has trouble remembering certain things, she can blame “chemo brain” if she wants. 🙂
Sixth, my twin sister’s oncologist presented my twin sister with counseling resources that Mayo Clinic has: Cancer-focused, cancer survivorship counseling resources that he’s going to connect her with in hopes that would be helpful as she moves forward into survivorship!
We couldn’t publish a post without a photo of Gizmo, my twin sister’s baby Boston Terrier! Our mom, dad, and baby sister babysat him during my twin sister’s infusion yesterday!
Next steps
My twin sister has heard that you can ring a bell when you finish chemotherapy and she also heard she should get a pin to celebrate finishing! So she’s going to ask about that at her last chemo infusion coming up in just over a month. 🙂
Also: Here are some things coming up on the docket that we’d love prayer for and are looking forward to in 2021!:
Thank you so much for your continued prayers for our health and healing, and for my baby sister’s preventative breast cancer screening journey that continues next week!!
God is good!!!
This blog post is the 35th in a series about my (and twin sister’s) preventative breast cancer screening journey that began when we were 30 years old in July 2019. Here is a list of all of the posts written about our journey at Mayo Clinic’s Breast Clinic in Rochester, Minnesota, to date. To keep tabs on new posts, sign up for the “A Daily Miracle” email list at this link.
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breast cancer, cancer, chemo, chemotherapy, her2, kadcyla, mayo clinic, mayo clinic minnesota, tdm1
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Sister Christian is a blogger, reporter, editor and follower of Jesus Christ seeking to find little miracles each and every day. She especially loves finding Jesus in art, music and culture. Learn more about her on Twitter @adailymiracle, and on Facebook as “A Daily Miracle.” Send an email to [email protected] with any comments, concerns or suggestions!
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I decided to take a break from all the kerfuffle and goings-on in Washington D.C. this week and expose some humor at the expense of US SENIORS…. If you cannot find at least some humor in the following stories, wait a few decades and they will all make sense. REMEMBER SENIOR JOKES ARE THE FEW REMAINING FEW WE CAN ACTUALLY POLK FUN AT BECAUSE—-MOST OF IT IS TRUE. ENJOY..
A lady helps her husband install a new computer. Once it’s completed, she tells him to select a new password, selecting a word he’ll always remember. As the computer asks him to enter it, he looks at his wife, and with a macho gesture, and a wink in his eye, he selects a word—mypenis. As he hits enter” to validate the selection, his wife collapses with laughter and rolls on the floor in hysteria. The computer had replied— TOO SHORT -ACCESS DENIED—-
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Bob Angone is a Marine VETERAN and a retired Chicago Police Lieutenant. He worked his entire Career covering the streets of Chicago as a Tactical Officer, Tactical Sergeant, and Tactical Lieutenant. His last assignments were in special Functions, he was the C/O of the CPD Swat teams his last five years and was an HBT (Hostage Barricade Terrorist) Sergeant for 10 years.
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You know that person in your life who is unflinchingly adamant that “music these days isn’t what it used to be” and “kids these days want to grow up too fast?” That’s me now. Well, not exactly about music; there’s no Avril Lavigne and B2K but I can certainly notice the evolution of music in the last three decades.
It’s the first time that the transition of no longer being “in the know” is apparent to me. I finally sucked it up yesterday and asked Google to define “stan” and I kind of already forgot what it means. I also realized that I now have friends I’ve known for half my life. I am an aunt. A homeowner. More politically aware than ever before. Acknowledging with greater urgency that none of us will ever be younger than we are right now. I’m also realizing how atrocious my spelling is since a simple right click of my track-pad will solve my spelling woes without even needing to know what I did wrong.
This is the fist time I have really felt like time has been moving. Meanwhile, I’ve been behaving as if I’m going to exist forever–but I will not, nor will the people around me. And that’s a really sobering thought.
Things are changing, and I wanted to focus a bit on that today. 15 years ago I remember letting go of my mom’s hand while we were crossing the street because I realized I was growing up. Now I simply feel older. I’m guessing many of us have memories like this; that shifting moment after which nothing was really the same anymore. What’s yours?
I was listening to the audiobook of Twenties Girl by Sophie Kinsella when she opened my eyes to something I hadn’t really thought about. In the book, the main character is visited by the ghost of her great-aunt. She’s elderly when she dies, but when the ghost version of her appears, she’s clad in her twenties…in the twenties. At some point, the great-niece remarks that someone who’s 80 doesn’t really see themselves as 80. That they may perceive themselves as 25 or 30 on the inside, only their body isn’t what it used to be. And there is something so sobering about that, too. About being older but retaining the memories of being younger. Seeing your body aged but feeling youthful inside; like some sort of inexplicable disconnect. We feel like we are the center of the universe when we’re younger, but as we age, we dissolve more and more until we’re well near invisible to other people.
I’ve also been thinking a lot about the things we do that waste time; things that usually manifesting themselves in the form of fear. I’ve held off working on writing projects because of my fear of failure. Refrained from applying to certain jobs due to a fear of rejection. Been reluctant to let a relationship play out due to fear of the furture.
But the things is, the Earth is just going to keep turning, and the people around us–even the ones who know us and love us–are going to keep moving too. So it doesn’t make sense for fear to have this much power over our lives. I don’t know what this post is except maybe a wish for both you and myself. So here it is:
I hope you go out there this year, and every day after, and do what you want; what you’ve been too afraid to do.
I hope you and I take our chances.
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Mahjabeen is an essayist, young adult librarian, book reviewer, and storyteller. She has a BA in creative writing and an MA in library and information science. She loves to laugh, talk books, and send you unsolicited photos of her cats. Learn more at mahjabeensyed.com or on Twitter @WMagicS
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The Sun-Times is counting down the 50 high school basketball programs with the most wins during the decade.
When high school basketball fans think back to the 1980s, programs like Quincy, Providence St. Mel, East St. Louis Lincoln and the arrival of city powers King and Simeon are easy to think back on.
The 1990s brought us memorable basketball giants in Peoria Manual and Thornton, a few steamrolling Proviso East teams and the continued dominance of King.
The first 10 years of the 2000s included Glenbrook North, Peoria High and the beginning of a Simeon juggernaut.
Earlier this year we broke down the decade’s best teams and best players. Now, with every season of the past decade complete, it’s time to look at the Chicago area programs who won the most.
This list is comprised of the 50 winningest programs over the past 10 years, starting with the 2010-11 season and concluding with the 2019-20 season. Every team in every class throughout the Chicago area will be broken down in a variety of ways. But total wins, with winning percentage used as tie-breaker, determined the rankings.
We present No. 25 Indian Creek today and will add one program a day going forward.
Decade’s biggest storyline: Even with all the decade wins and success from this tiny school in the remote town of Shabbona, which is roughly 60 miles west of Chicago, there is nothing close to what transpired last year. The Timberwolves went 35-1 and were the No. 1 ranked team in the state while cracking the Sun Times’ Super 25 rankings at one point.
The small, tight-knit community rallied around a team that captured a sectional championship before falling to Aurora Christian in the super-sectional.
Underrated highlight: Impressively, the basketball program had 12 different players throughout the decade that were either class valedictorian or salutatorian.
Player of the Decade: Cooper Larson (2020)
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All-Decade Team: Seth Sanderson (2011), Nolan Govig (2018), Cooper Larson (2020), Drew Gaston (2021) and Cameron Russell (2021)
Other decade highlights:
–There are five 1,000-plus point scorers in program history and four (Seth Sanderson, Garrison Govig, Trevor Guerra and Cooper Larsen) all played in the decade.
-Paw Paw consolidated with Indian Creek in 2018 with two starters from the 2019-20 team (Michael Lampson and Brennen McNally) coming from Paw Paw.
-The last four years of the decade produced an impressive 102-22 record overall.
-The history of the Little Ten Tournament is over a century old. Indian Creek won its first tournament title in school history in 2020.
-The Timberwolves won three regional titles and appeared in two sectional title games in the decade.
The Chicago Bears really need to consider going for Deshaun Watson via trade. The Chicago Bears are famous for making one of the biggest mistakes in the history of the NFL Draft. We all know by now (unfortunately) that they passed on Deshaun Watson and Patrick Mahomes in favor of Mitchell Trubisky in the first […]
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Deshaun Watson in a Chicago Bears uniform? It is slowly becoming a possibility. The 2020 season featured some highs and lows for the Chicago Bears, but no storyline was bigger than the 6-game losing streak this team endured in the middle of the year. Amidst the losing streak was also an overflowing frustration around the […]
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