Ken’s one-month appointment showed no changes, so Dr. Schlabach told us Ken didn’t have to come back for three months. He wouldn’t say the R-Word (remission), but he did say “things look good” (whatever the heck THAT was supposed to mean). Dr. S. went on to say that Ken could do whatever he felt like doing, but not to overdo.
Three months came and went and Ken went back to see Dr. Schlabach. None of the tests/scans/scopes they did showed any sign of cancer. Dr. S. shook his head and said, “Ken, there is no medical reason that you should still be here.” I replied, “That’s because the reason he’s still here is NOT medical. It is a God thing.” The Dr. agreed and told us to come back three months later.
We entered into a time of being almost “normal”. Ken felt much stronger and was able to get out and piddle around a little with his rental properties. We were able to get a portable feeding pump (“Baby Bill”) which Ken could wear in a backpack, so we were able to go more places. He started taking the boys to “camp out” in his van so they could sell stuff at the Flea Market down in Dalton. Jesse and Benjamin loved that. They still talk about sleeping in the van, talking to their Dad through the night. I’m glad they have those memories.
I guess it was around this time that I heard that one of Ken’s family members was telling everybody that “Kenny has been healed!” While I was praising God and rejoicing loudly at the fact that Ken was doing so well, for some reason, that comment from his family member bothered me. You have to understand – this particular family member, and others of his family as well, never seemed to “get it” when it came to Ken’s illness. They were pretty much in denial about the whole thing. It seemed like they thought that as long as Ken wasn’t laying in the bed dying, that he was just FINE. They would ask him to do things like climb up on their roof or go and shovel chicken manure. This man was missing half of his internal organs and had absolutely no immune system, but somehow, his family thought those requests were reasonable. I would stomp my foot at Ken and tell him to call his family member back and tell them that what they had requested was out of the question. I can still see Ken grinning at me, saying, “I guess you’re, right, Honey. I didn’t think about that.” Then he would call and tell them that “Melinda says I can’t help you ...”. Sometimes I think he would agree to help them with those ridiculous requests just to see me stomp my foot at him. Silly man, I was only trying to take care of him.
Anyway, for some reason, the “healed” remark just seemed to fly all over me. I would grit my teeth and not say anything, because I didn’t want to cause any trouble between Ken and his family. They loved him too, and in their own peculiar way, I knew they wanted what was best for him. But one day, the family member was just all in my face about it. She asked me if I had told Jesse and Benjamin that Ken had been healed. I said, “No, I haven’t told them that.” “What are you waiting for?”, she asked. (DEEP breath) “Because I don’t know for sure that he’s been healed,” I replied. Family member is becoming more animated now... “What do you mean, you don’t know he’s been healed?! Don’t you believe God can heal Kenny?!” she shouted. (Another DEEP breath) “YES!”, I replied, “I do believe that God can heal Ken. I believe that He can grow Ken a brand new stomach if that’s what He wants to do. I just am not sure what God is going to do.” Then this family member looked me square in the eyes and said something I’ll never forget. “You have to pray believing! YOU DON’T HAVE ENOUGH FAITH!” Well... I felt like someone had squeezed every little bit of air out of my lungs. I’m not sure what she expected me to say. I finally said, “Are you saying that if Ken dies, it will be my fault?” She started sputtering and assuring me that that was not what she meant, but her tone had been so condemning and accusatory. It broke my heart. I guess she realized that she had said too much, because she left soon after.
SIGH... As much as I would loved to have agreed with her that Ken was healed, God NEVER told me He was going to heal him. God told me that I should “get ready”. And that’s what I tried to do.
"Wait and See"
After about three more weeks of constant tube feeding, numerous medications, and sleepless nights, I began to see tiny little glimpses of improvement. Ken’s fever was going down and the diarrhea seemed to be subsiding some. He was even saying he was hungry again, so that was encouraging.
Dr. Gefter was concerned with Ken’s weight loss, so he prescribed another kind of liquid nutrition. It was called ProSure and it was made specially for cancer patients. Now Ken was getting three cans of the Replete and two to three cans of the ProSure every day. “Bill” was pumping constantly, day and night.
Anytime Ken finished with any kind of treatment, the doctors would always do another round of scans and scopes to see how the cancer had reacted. The results this time were unchanged from what they had been prior to the radiation. The doctors said that was good news because the cancer had neither grown nor spread. Told us that now we would just have to “wait and see”. They scheduled Ken for an appointment in a month.
Ken was getting stronger each day. He was able to eat a little, here and there, so we were gradually able to go back to tube-feeding only at night. The “hollow-eyed” look was being replaced by that mischievous sparkle I had fallen in love with. I was so grateful that Ken was finally feeling better, but it was difficult for me to know how I was supposed to feel at that time. I wanted to be happy and relieved, but I felt like I was constantly holding my breath, waiting for the next horrible thing to happen.
I pretended to let Ken go back to “normal”, but I was constantly watching for any little sign that could mean disaster. I would hold these conversations with myself in my head. Happy, relieved Melinda would say, “Relax! The doctors said everything looks good!” Worried, scared Melinda would reply, “But you KNOW that the cancer is in Ken’s lymph system–it could go anywhere!” Happy relieved Melinda would come back with, “Don’t waste precious time worrying! Just accept this miracle and live each day as if Ken was never going to be sick again!” Worried, scared Melinda would whine, “I can’t let myself feel relieved. It would hurt too much if he got sick again!” On and on it would go...driving me crazy and wearing me out. See, that’s how CRAZY cancer is. Even if it’s good news, it can drive you nuts!
Dr. Gefter was concerned with Ken’s weight loss, so he prescribed another kind of liquid nutrition. It was called ProSure and it was made specially for cancer patients. Now Ken was getting three cans of the Replete and two to three cans of the ProSure every day. “Bill” was pumping constantly, day and night.
Anytime Ken finished with any kind of treatment, the doctors would always do another round of scans and scopes to see how the cancer had reacted. The results this time were unchanged from what they had been prior to the radiation. The doctors said that was good news because the cancer had neither grown nor spread. Told us that now we would just have to “wait and see”. They scheduled Ken for an appointment in a month.
Ken was getting stronger each day. He was able to eat a little, here and there, so we were gradually able to go back to tube-feeding only at night. The “hollow-eyed” look was being replaced by that mischievous sparkle I had fallen in love with. I was so grateful that Ken was finally feeling better, but it was difficult for me to know how I was supposed to feel at that time. I wanted to be happy and relieved, but I felt like I was constantly holding my breath, waiting for the next horrible thing to happen.
I pretended to let Ken go back to “normal”, but I was constantly watching for any little sign that could mean disaster. I would hold these conversations with myself in my head. Happy, relieved Melinda would say, “Relax! The doctors said everything looks good!” Worried, scared Melinda would reply, “But you KNOW that the cancer is in Ken’s lymph system–it could go anywhere!” Happy relieved Melinda would come back with, “Don’t waste precious time worrying! Just accept this miracle and live each day as if Ken was never going to be sick again!” Worried, scared Melinda would whine, “I can’t let myself feel relieved. It would hurt too much if he got sick again!” On and on it would go...driving me crazy and wearing me out. See, that’s how CRAZY cancer is. Even if it’s good news, it can drive you nuts!
Radiation
Ken’s radiation treatments began without any fuss. We went every weekday morning and were only there for about two hours at the most. Then we’d go home and life went on as “normally” as it could in the world of the dreaded “C-Word”. I remember one funny thing about going for the radiation treatments. You know how people complain about the magazines at the doctors’ offices always being old? Well, one morning we went in and on the table there was a magazine that was dated June, 1977!!!! I’m NOT kidding! The radiation center wasn’t even that old. I’ve often wondered just where the magazine came from. Anyway, it was good for a laugh.
The radiation treatments made Ken very, very tired. In fact, it sort of had a cumulative effect. The more treatments he had, the more tired he was. To begin with, that was the only side-effect he suffered. But, as the weeks passed, Ken began to get sick. First, it was just severe nausea. Then it went into mild diarrhea. He couldn’t eat, so we were having to keep “Bill” pumping more than usual to keep him from losing weight. Then, about when the treatments were ending, the diarrhea got worse. And about two weeks after the treatments were finished, the diarrhea got MUCH worse. In fact, the only word that really describes it would be “explosive”. Poor Ken, he was SO sick. By the end of June, he was taking four different medications to try and stop it and he was hooked up to “Bill” constantly. I was REALLY worried. I was afraid we were going to lose him then. I was SO scared and I was NOT ready for him to go (not that I was EVER ready). I remember laying on the floor by the couch (he was more comfortable there than in the hospital bed) while he slept, listening to him breathe, listening to “Bill” clicking and grinding through the night, burying my face in my pillow, trying not to sob out loud. It was such a heart-breaking time.
Michaelann and Adam were getting married on July 6th. Jesse and Benjamin were both in the wedding. But Ken was so sick, I wasn’t able to go down and be a part of the preparations like I would have liked to. In fact, I wasn’t really sure until the morning of the wedding whether or not I would even get to go. Mama and Daddy came up and got the boys so they’d be there for the rehearsal, but Ken was too sick to go and I wouldn’t leave him even for one night. The morning of the 6th, Ken assured me it would be okay for me to go. I had asked his brother to come and stay with him while I was gone. Before I left, I gave his brother a list of what to do if Ken got worse. Then I put my finger in his face and told him that he was NOT to leave Ken alone, no matter what Ken said. Ken had a habit of making his situation sound better than it really was, and his family tended to be in denial about the whole thing. I was worried that Ken would tell his brother that he was fine and send him on home. I told Ken’s brother if he left before I got back, I would “kick his butt”. He laughed at me, but I was absolutely serious.
Jan and her sister, Jayne, were driving down that morning, so I decided to go with them. I was so exhausted that I was really afraid to drive by myself, especially since the boys would be coming back with me. I was so worried about leaving Ken at home so sick, that I don’t really remember a whole lot about Michaelann’s wedding. I do remember how beautiful she looked coming down the aisle, on her way to marry her sweet Adam. It did my heart good to see how much they loved each other. After the reception, Michaelann asked me to help her get ready to leave the church. Sweet girl...she wanted to make sure I felt like I had been included in the wedding, even though I was only there for a short while. When I look at her wedding pictures now, I’m always surprised at how much of it I don’t remember. It makes me sad, but it couldn’t be helped.
The radiation treatments made Ken very, very tired. In fact, it sort of had a cumulative effect. The more treatments he had, the more tired he was. To begin with, that was the only side-effect he suffered. But, as the weeks passed, Ken began to get sick. First, it was just severe nausea. Then it went into mild diarrhea. He couldn’t eat, so we were having to keep “Bill” pumping more than usual to keep him from losing weight. Then, about when the treatments were ending, the diarrhea got worse. And about two weeks after the treatments were finished, the diarrhea got MUCH worse. In fact, the only word that really describes it would be “explosive”. Poor Ken, he was SO sick. By the end of June, he was taking four different medications to try and stop it and he was hooked up to “Bill” constantly. I was REALLY worried. I was afraid we were going to lose him then. I was SO scared and I was NOT ready for him to go (not that I was EVER ready). I remember laying on the floor by the couch (he was more comfortable there than in the hospital bed) while he slept, listening to him breathe, listening to “Bill” clicking and grinding through the night, burying my face in my pillow, trying not to sob out loud. It was such a heart-breaking time.
Michaelann and Adam were getting married on July 6th. Jesse and Benjamin were both in the wedding. But Ken was so sick, I wasn’t able to go down and be a part of the preparations like I would have liked to. In fact, I wasn’t really sure until the morning of the wedding whether or not I would even get to go. Mama and Daddy came up and got the boys so they’d be there for the rehearsal, but Ken was too sick to go and I wouldn’t leave him even for one night. The morning of the 6th, Ken assured me it would be okay for me to go. I had asked his brother to come and stay with him while I was gone. Before I left, I gave his brother a list of what to do if Ken got worse. Then I put my finger in his face and told him that he was NOT to leave Ken alone, no matter what Ken said. Ken had a habit of making his situation sound better than it really was, and his family tended to be in denial about the whole thing. I was worried that Ken would tell his brother that he was fine and send him on home. I told Ken’s brother if he left before I got back, I would “kick his butt”. He laughed at me, but I was absolutely serious.
Jan and her sister, Jayne, were driving down that morning, so I decided to go with them. I was so exhausted that I was really afraid to drive by myself, especially since the boys would be coming back with me. I was so worried about leaving Ken at home so sick, that I don’t really remember a whole lot about Michaelann’s wedding. I do remember how beautiful she looked coming down the aisle, on her way to marry her sweet Adam. It did my heart good to see how much they loved each other. After the reception, Michaelann asked me to help her get ready to leave the church. Sweet girl...she wanted to make sure I felt like I had been included in the wedding, even though I was only there for a short while. When I look at her wedding pictures now, I’m always surprised at how much of it I don’t remember. It makes me sad, but it couldn’t be helped.
Getting Ready for Another New Thing
Ken would need 30 radiation treatments – one a day, five days a week, for six weeks. The boys only had four weeks of school left, so I wondered what I would do with them for those final two weeks of Ken’s treatment. Yes, they were 12 and 8, and under normal circumstances, they would have been fine at the house by themselves. But nothing about what we were going through was “normal”. Jesse worried himself into either a headache or an upset stomach about every third day. Benjamin didn’t want to be away from me physically for long. Even at home, if I left the room where Benjamin was, he would come looking for me – just to make sure I was still there. That continued throughout Ken’s illness and worsened for quite a while after Ken died. I didn’t dare leave him for long with anyone except Mama and Daddy or Jan and Brian, or he would go into panic mode. Poor baby.
I had heard something at church about a summer day camp at Camp Scott Patterson, right down the road from our church. Keith was on the Board of Directors for the Catoosa County Baptist Association, so I figured he could give me some info on the day camp. I called and explained that I only needed a place for the boys to go for the first two weeks of summer. Keith said he would talk to the camp director and find out if they could come just for the two weeks (usually you had to sign up for the entire summer), and he would find out how much it would cost. When he called me back that evening, Keith said, “Your boys are signed up for the first two weeks, and it’s already been paid for. All you need to do is go by and fill out the papers.” There he went, again, being such a blessing. All I had asked for was information. What I got was a solution to my problem and an answer to a prayer I hadn’t prayed yet. He never told me who the “angel” was that paid for the boys to go to “Camp Scott P” that summer. God Bless them, whoever it was.
So, we set about preparing for a new leg to this journey of exhaustion. We scheduled the treatments for the mornings so we could get back home before the boys got home from school. The treatments themselves would only last about 20 minutes each, so at least we didn’t have to be at the hospital all day like we were with the chemo treatments. Ken had done so well with all of his other treatments and procedures, I assumed radiation would be no different. But... you know what they say about assuming. Boy, was I WRONG!
I had heard something at church about a summer day camp at Camp Scott Patterson, right down the road from our church. Keith was on the Board of Directors for the Catoosa County Baptist Association, so I figured he could give me some info on the day camp. I called and explained that I only needed a place for the boys to go for the first two weeks of summer. Keith said he would talk to the camp director and find out if they could come just for the two weeks (usually you had to sign up for the entire summer), and he would find out how much it would cost. When he called me back that evening, Keith said, “Your boys are signed up for the first two weeks, and it’s already been paid for. All you need to do is go by and fill out the papers.” There he went, again, being such a blessing. All I had asked for was information. What I got was a solution to my problem and an answer to a prayer I hadn’t prayed yet. He never told me who the “angel” was that paid for the boys to go to “Camp Scott P” that summer. God Bless them, whoever it was.
So, we set about preparing for a new leg to this journey of exhaustion. We scheduled the treatments for the mornings so we could get back home before the boys got home from school. The treatments themselves would only last about 20 minutes each, so at least we didn’t have to be at the hospital all day like we were with the chemo treatments. Ken had done so well with all of his other treatments and procedures, I assumed radiation would be no different. But... you know what they say about assuming. Boy, was I WRONG!
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