I wrote a post in September 2025 just after Erica’s trike accident. In that post, our children contributed two points of advice. When you fail, get back in the saddle and go back to the point where you were last comfortable. After learning how severe Erica’s shoulder break was and seeing how painful the recovery has been, I had assumed we would never see her on the trike again. To be honest, I was not sure I would ever be comfortable with her riding again. She had trusted me to provide a safe riding environment and I failed. The memory of watching her fall is still fresh in my mind. That moment when neither of us were in control is haunting. But as I said in my previous blog, these points of advice were not just for Erica, but for all of us. Healing is of body and mind. And failure is not a set back, but a ‘good try’.

So whether consciously taking her son’s advice or simply out of boredom—or perhaps even the strong will that drives Erica (I believe it was mostly the later), Erica insisted that she try the trike again. So going back to our last comfortable moment from 10 months ago, I programmed the bike for a very slow walking mode and started Erica in the safety of our neighborhood. The ride was brief, but the joy and pride of accomplishment was immeasurable.

One of the most considerable points with this accomplishment is the timing. If you read my last blog, you will know that Erica has just been diagnosed with having new tumor developments in the brain. We’ve been waiting for her doctor team to advise on whether she should go back on treatment or try radiation again. Erica took this bike adventure while a greater fear was present. Not letting worry overwhelm or allowing fear steal her joy, Erica got back in the saddle.

We’ve since heard from the doctors. Erica will be starting maintenance chemotherapy treatments again next week. The radiation option may have been low risk, but the long term results are unknown. The conclusion being that we have a history of what we can expect from the treatment. The good news is that Erica had been taking two different medicines, Enhertu and Avastin. She will only be going back on the Enhertu, the drug specifically targeting her type of cancer. Eliminating the second drug may mitigate some of her previous extreme side effects. The doctor is confident that Enhertu is the treatment that has kept her cancer under control for over a year. So, just like the bike-riding experience, we will be starting back where we were last successful.

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Appendix

I promised a recap of our summer so far. As many of you know, I was between jobs for the entire month of June, simultaneous to our youngest son graduating college. This was a transition month, marking a new chapter in life. We intentionally did not plan any travel or scheduled commitments. Instead, took time to enjoy old friends, appreciate what Pittsburgh has to offer, and even purge the attic and garage. Enjoy.

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Jennifer (and Britten) Martin, college roommate/maid of honor

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Phipps Conservatory, Toy Story 5, Pittsburgh Zoo

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Attic clean out. Can you find Erica?

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Erica and I have had a very active month—which I hope to write about in a near-future post. But today, I am sharing a medical update. So bear with me as I get a little more technical in this entry.

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When an area of the brain has been radiated more than once, the possibility of long-term effects such as brain fatigue and necrosis increases. These effects can manifest 1 to 3 years after the radiation. That is what occurred in Erica’s cerebellum, the region of the brain that controls motion and balance (including speech). Since Erica underwent whole brain radiation in 2023, any additional radiation, regardless of how targeted, would be a second hit to that area. Erica’s whole brain radiation in 2023 was miraculously successful. However, she had additional tumors in her cerebellum that needed targeted radiation in 2024. These multiple radiations, along with the cancer that had been there, rendered her balance, mobility and speech permanently compromised.

I give that background so that you better understand our specific concern heading in to scans this week. The doctors have been focused on her cerebellum for nearly two years now. This has been the only area of any concerning cancer activity. We have been watching the cerebellum closely for necrosis and cancer progression, knowing that there are few options left to combat either.

Having been off all treatment for three months with renewed appetite and energy, Erica and I went into her scans assuming that if there was progression, it would be in the same area. If so, resuming chemo treatment would be the only option. A decision would have to be made—would Erica want to continue feeling well and let nature take its course or live with the extreme fatigue and appetite challenges from chemo? This was an A or B situation. So we thought.

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Let me digress from the medical update and get personal for a moment…
Vampire Weekend (the band, not a 3-day Halloween party) sings a lyric, “I don’t want to live like this, but I don’t want to die.” When you are facing an A/B situation in which your choice determines your fate, faith becomes fact in your decision process. Is life after death a theory or a truth? Your position on this question must be factored into the equation. During an heartfelt discussion the night before Erica’s MRI, God presented an interesting question: Are you scared of death or scared of dying?

This profound question presents that to be scared of death is fear for the future beyond our human life. The testing of our faith is whether we make decisions believing that life beyond the living body is a possibility or a reality. Compare this to retirement, a significant life-changing event. We never know exactly what that time may look like until we get there, but from our first paycheck we anticipate and plan accordingly.

On the contrary, to be scared of dying is fear of the moment when this human body no longer functions. If there is eternal life, then dying is only a temporary moment in time—a transition from one season of life to another. Compare this to adolescence, often difficult, but every adult has gone through it and has been transformed from the person they were previously.

Erica’s answer to the question? “I’m scared of dying.”

In that moment. The weight of what we were facing became lighter. If we had to make a decision, it no longer carried the same permanency. It was not a decision toward an end, rather a plan to manage a transition. It would be a choice on how to make the most of the time and situation we’ve been given.

I don’t want to make light if this by simply saying, “Yay!”, but living with this peace of mind is worth celebrating and praising the Savior who made it possible.

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So, back to the medical update…
The CT scan of chest, abdomen and pelvis was conducted last Thursday (under circumstances which are a whole other story). The results once again confirmed no evidence of disease. In fact, these body scans have been so consistent for years that her oncologist has elected to extend cadence from every three months to every six. (Yay!)

The MRI initially presented good news showing the cerebellum to be stable. (Yay!) However, very small new tumor activity was discovered in the upper part of her brain. One of those tumors had been evident in previous scans. The neuro-oncologist had been using that tumor as a marker for more than a year—as long as that tumor was stable or shrinking, we knew that the chemo was working. The MRI showed that the marker tumor has grown very slightly but remains under a centimeter. In addition, several much smaller tumors have also appeared. Comparing previous scans on chemo to this one off chemo will give the oncologists very good information about the effectiveness of the treatment and the cancer activity without.

This new development presents a new option. The neuro-oncologist feels that, due to location and size, a small dose of targeted radiation would be highly effective at very low risk. This option could give Erica an extended “treatment holiday”.

What’s next?… These scans were read very quickly as soon as they were taken. So over the next week, the scans will be reviewed more thoroughly, including overlays with previous scans, to ensure that nothing was overlooked. Our oncology team will consult with one another and agree to the options. At best, we will hear from the doctor on Thursday, after which Erica will have to make a decision to which path she chooses. She has peace in knowing that she has time to decide and that there are options.

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Earlier this week, I was expressing to my father my stress over the anticipation of being faced with an A or B decision. He advised that, based on his long care-giving experience, when it comes to medical situations we should not assume we know all the options. To do so is an attempt to control things that we have no control. He was right.

Thank God for fathers and their wisdom—including our Heavenly Father. Happy Father’s Day.

From mother’s day to graduation day, could there possibly have been a better seven-day stretch to follow our Florida vacation?

Celebrating Erica, along with her mother, sister-in-law and the newest mother in the family, our niece Tory, was a beautiful reminder of the generational blessings and close family that surrounds us. We say Yay to these mothers and those that were not with us, thanking God for all they have done, are doing and will do to create a family and memories that will go far beyond our time.

From celebrating mom to celebrating our son, we could not be more proud as we watched our youngest receive his bachelor of science degrees in economics and finance with high honors. It may have been delirium from three hours of 90 degree direct sun, but for a brief moment parenthood felt perfect. The toddler tantrums, adolescent anger, tears over failed friendships and relationships all disappeared. We actually did everything right. Both of our boys, Bram and Christian, have made it to adulthood and proved to be capable of surviving, even thriving, on their own.

But momma bear does not have to mourn the empty den just yet. Bram will be returning home for the summer, looking to start his career. Erica says, Yay! (But if anyone has contacts in investment banking, please let us know).

Erica is enjoying a bit of health improvement during all of this excitement—although this comes with a higher level of faith. Prior to our trip to Florida, Erica’s oncologist offered that she skip a treatment cycle. Considering that Erica lost all appetite for solid food, continued to weight loss and was living with chronic fatigue, this juxtaposed by recent clean and stable scans, he felt that some reprieve from the chemo side effects and incessant hospital appointments would be refreshing. We agreed. Returning from our trip, Erica had a follow up appointment where the doctor saw her improved energy, weight was stable and we reported that she was now eating consistent small meals. He proposed an extension to remain off of all treatment until her next scan. A full 3 months without treatment. No medical control of the cancer. Erica has decided to take this option. Her energy is rapidly increasing and she is enjoying regular meals again. With this new-found energy and practice navigating her electric wheelchair, the only thing holding her back is the Pittsburgh weather. I can tell that she is feeling better because of her constant complaining of boredom—like the kids from Cat in the Hat waiting for the rain to end. We thank God for this joyful time, trusting miracles over medicine.

Key Largo – Baker’s Cay Resort

Floatin’

Day trip to Key West

Stylin’

The End

Today is Erica’s 55th birthday. As anyone knows, Erica does not just recognize her birth day, but also her a birth week—sometimes a birth month!

The past few weeks we’ve been able to celebrate a change in her therapy. After the last few stable scan results, Erica’s doctor agreed to giving her a temporary break from chemo treatment to focus on her physical health. Erica will skip one treatment, typically every three weeks, giving her a full six weeks between injections.

After the first three weeks, Erica began to experience noticeable changes. She began trying different foods—no favorites yet, but the attempt is valor. Erica is showing signs of improved mental energy. Unfortunately, this has come in the form of expressed boredom. She is realizing her limitations, sad and frustrated by her limited mobility. And while this seems to be a negative, to me this is a yay, encouraged by her restlessness.

So we combat the boredom and celebrate Erica’s birthday week with her favorite therapy—retail. Three separate shopping trips to update her beach wardrobe and get birthday gift ideas. In her new electric wheelchair (which she refuses to call a wheelchair), Erica’s shopping experiences are more independent and bring the joy of freedom. She navigates to her desires while I manage the dressing room. I am told that I do very well, which is a high compliment from someone who has managed fashion shoppers professionally.

With retail therapy behind us, we are en route to Florida for a brief visit with my family. Then on to Key Largo for five days for beach therapy. Truly, a birth week celebration. Yay!

PS – Remember that trike that broke Erica’s shoulder? It’s out on the street again, cruising the neighborhood with Terra!

“Still the same. Baby, babe, you’re still the same.” I bet you’ve got a little Bob Seger stuck on your head now, don’t you? Go ahead sing it. It’s catchy. Funny thing about that song is you can’t tell if it is a compliment or criticism. It’s all perspective.

Erica’s doctor called on Friday with the news that her brain MRI showed everything is stable! The medication is working! The small speckles from before are no more concerning than last scan! No new legions or growth! No brain shrinkage (well, no more than all of us have at our age)!
Everything is still the same! YAY!

Erica’s doctor called on Friday with the news that her brain MRI showed everything is stable. The medication is working. The side effects of extreme fatigue and lack of appetite are part of the battle. Hair loss, aging skin, these are a small price to pay. Four-hour treatments will continue every three weeks. Everything is still the same. Pray.

Perspective—that is what Erica and I wrestled with this week.

Praise God that our good life is still good. We can now finalize springtime plans that were holding for these results. A 55th birthday and sandy beaches are just over the horizon. Yay!

But Erica is still facing serious eating challenges, fatigue and weight loss concerns. Energy and motivation don’t come easy. Pray!

Ever more, I am aware that perspective can be fine-tuned. Sometimes toward joy, sometimes toward empathy. Always toward Christ. The thing is, when it comes to God, He’s still the same.

It seems that we are averaging about one blog post a month recently. I’d like to post more frequently, keeping you connected to our journey. But I recently realized that the lack of activity, in itself, is worth celebrating. This is indicative of the normalcy that our life has settled into. Erica is not experiencing extreme swings in health, we are not meeting new doctors or discovering new side effects. Sometimes, a month of no news is good news.

By surrendering to the frigid February, we found ourself home most of the past four weeks. The consistency allowed Erica to become more comfortable with standard routines, like getting herself from bed to bathroom to living room every day, unwatched and unaided. These routines have allowed me to see where minor improvements can be made around the house, like an extra grab bar here or there.

We’ve explored another level of independence with Erica staying home alone for a few hours. By understanding routine patterns, we can agree on times where she feels comfortable alone. And with an accessibility hack on her phone, she can now call select emergency contacts with just a few touches.

Last week, the sun broke through. Like hibernating bears emerging from their den, neighbors were suddenly in yards, walking dogs, I even heard the sound of lawn mainenance! Erica took her place on the front deck (buried under blankets, of course). Spring had finally sprung and it is time to move forward. Thanks to the 70 degree sun and our generous friend, Terra, who loaned us her father’s electric wheelchair, Erica and I were able to “take a walk” side-by-side. Erica in control of her own speed and direction. Me along side her—not behind, pushing, supporting or steering. I can not explain how meaningful that position change was. Maybe even more for me than Erica.

The best news to celebrate is that Erica’s body scans once again show no evidence of cancer. Yay! She will be getting her next brain MRI later this month. Pray that we see the same result in the brain as well.

If it were not for stories and photos, I would not remember much of this day thirty years ago. It was a blur. (Note: This is why I stay committed to journaling, not only does it help to ground thoughts in the moment, but it is a record of the joys we’ve shared and challenges we’ve overcome. I can not wait to read these posts 30 years from now and remember this journey with a clarity that our human mind can not retain).

The best I can recall is that it was a pretty ugly weather day in Oakland, Maryland, just outside of Deep Creek Lake. Not the kind of weather for a pure white dress and a rented tuxedo. The reception parking lot was a mix of melting snow and mud. I’m almost positive that Erica had special fur boots just for the occasion.

This anniversary weekend, the winter weather did not treat us much better. We had hoped to escape to a warm climate for a few days in the sun, only to be faced with a forecasted cold snap in the south that rendered Florida with lows in the 20s. Not exactly sun-bathing weather. The memory of our chilly Thanksgiving day at Disney was still too fresh, so we opted for a clever compromise—Jimmy Buffet’s Margaritaville Hotel in Times Square complete with a Disney show on Broadway! The perfect blend of beach vibe and Disney magic, mostly indoors and only a 6 hour drive away.

We had honeymooned in Killington, VT in 1996 and spent many anniversaries since then on ski trips and Disney vacations. I can honestly say that navigating a wheelchair through Times Square with three-feet snow drifts and -15 degree windchills equalled the thrill of any black diamond run or Seven Dwarves Runaway Mine Rollercoaster. Erica screamed with excitement and we laughed the entire 2 blocks.

We pulled out the wedding album today. Beautiful, magical memories of that amazing and chaotic day thirty years ago. Somewhere between the ceremoneous entry and the party that drained the bar, vows were made. Vows that we could not have known how they might be tested. But when strength and love come from Above, the trials* are nothing more than marriage superglue. And when we look back (and forward) we realize that the “for betters” far outweighed the “for worse”.

Thank you to many of you who have contributed to our past 30 years. And welcome to those who are new to this challenging, yet joyful ride!

PS – Check out the local news article about our wedding. Over half of the article is about the fashion. The news writer must have known Erica well. ; )

*Book of James 1:2-3

Everyone goes through a period of low emotions coming out of the holidays. As we move on from the shopping and the planning and the parties, “normal” life seems duller than normal. For Erica and me, this feeling has been a bit more intense this year as we realize that the new normal is not normal. We’ve been living the magic of the holidays since our Thanksgiving trip to the Magic Kingdom and then we are suddenly reminded of doctor appointments and treatment scheduling. Although we have settled back in to routine this month, it has not been without moments to celebrate.

Our youngest son, Bram, was home from college for several weeks beyond the new year. We don’t see him much when he is around, but I like to say that his presence was with us. We’ve also been blessed by our oldest son, Christian, coming in on several weekends. A few times to attend Steelers games (which were not always joyful) or to go skiing. As every parent knows, having your child near and safe is comforting. For Erica, it’s more than comfort. The best I can explain it is that she feels complete, even in her brokenness.

Erica and her mother joined me and Erica’s brother, Rob, on a day trip to Seven Springs. The ladies enjoyed the ski lodge atmosphere while Rob and I acted half our age. It felt like old times (with the added adventure of wheelchair riding through a snowy parking lot).

My mother chose to start her new year with us. She came from Florida to stay with us for the month of January. This has been an absolute blessing for me as I have jumped back in to a very busy work schedule. Her gift of service is unmatched, anticipating every need and acting selflessly.

Medically, Erica continues to do well. She has been given the full go on her shoulder from her orthopedic surgeon. Movement and therapy will help get her back to full motion, but there are no restrictions or concerns. (I’d be remiss to not mention here how amazed I am at the body’s ability to heal itself. To see how a bone can form out of nothing to fill a 1 inch bridge in the exact location needed, can only be God’s design. And to have the high resolution technology to watch this over time is human genius. As I’ve said many times, miracles and medicine). Her neurologist confirmed that her most recent brain scan was great news. The cancer is stable and no new side effects. Erica has had two treatments since Christmas where they test blood and vitals reveling that her body is managing well.

With all this good news, it is hard to accept that the brain and the body are still not in sync. But this is the new normal with which we start 2026. And as normal, the laughter continues.

Merry Christmas, friends! I hope your day is filled with waves of joy. Whether they be large or small, don’t miss them.

This blog post is not so much an update, but rather a thought that I want to capture and share in the moment.

It is easy to find a ‘Yay!’ on Christmas Day. After all, it is the season of celebration. And for those that are Christian, the greatest celebration of all. The birth of our savior, Jesus Christ, the greatest gift of all. The creator of the universe, God, giving his only son to save the world. Without a doubt, the greatest gift humanity could receive.

Our family is a ski family. Over the years, we have given our children and each other equipment, clothing, passes and other ski-related gifts. These were great gifts. But what we’ve ultimately given is a lifestyle that we can share, our happy place where we make memories and see dreams become reality. The ski gifts were only the means to the greater gift.

This Christmas, look beyond the gift in the manger toward the ultimate reason God gave us Jesus—the promise of a life free from illness, pain, struggle, stress. An eternal life, timeless and beautiful. This, my friends, is the greater than greatest gift.