One of the most disappointing moments in life is when you reach into the bag of trail mix and only get peanuts and raisins – no M&Ms, chocolate chucks or whatever sweet secret morsel has been mixed in – just a handful of the healthy stuff.

This reoccurring suffering persisted for me as we drove from Pittsburgh to Florida this past weekend. We are spending Thanksgiving week with family who lives in Florida. I am writing this from Disney World, Erica’s favorite place on Earth (more about that later).

As I took a handful of a disproportionate amount of raisins, I was conscious of the woman sleeping next to me in the passenger seat. She has been fearful of every bite of food for the last several weeks, not knowing whether her body would immediately reject it or be satisfied by it. Unfortunately, the former just occurred at our last stop. We had carefully chosen Cracker Barrel (definitely not a place we would have considered outside of her condition) because of the simple home cooking. She chose the pot roast because just a week earlier, she really enjoyed the recipe our sister-in-law made. This is how it goes, favorite food this week may be the enemy next week. This time, Erica cautiously eyed the hot crock of meat and vegetables, gently took one or two careful bites and we immediately rushed out the door because her body rejected it. I paid the bill, tipped well for help with the clean up, got a change of clothes in the parking lot and got back on the road. I was on the verge of rage and Erica knew it. I was not mad, but I still can not identify my feelings, a mixture of frustration, disappointment and sadness for her.

After several miles of silence, I asked Erica if we could talk about the situation. I apologized for my tense reaction, knowing that she needed me to be comforting not abrasive. She asked if I was mad at her. A natural thought that we all tend to have when a close person is angry, putting blame on ourselves, wondering what we could have done differently to avoid it. I was not mad at her at all, but I was having the same thoughts, “She must be mad at me”, disappointed in myself and thinking of all the ways I could have avoided this. We agree the situation sucked and that when we look back, we will probably laugh about it… which we did 4 hours later when we arrived at my parent’s house.

Go ahead, laugh with us. These are the scenes that we love in comedy movies—a family member gets sick in a restaurant on a road trip, changes clothes in the parking lot while the old man in the adjacent parking space gets an unexpected view that makes him feel twenty-five again and the family heads down the road with the smell of soiled clothes in the car. That’s funny.

Our friend Kirk shared a writing that scientifically explains why I started this blog. It says that, neuroscience has discovered that every time you choose gratitude over complaint, you’re literally rewiring your brain.

Your thoughts carve pathways. The more you dwell on fear, frustration, and failure, the stronger those negative pathways become. It’s like walking the same trail through the woods every day—eventually, you wear a rut so deep it becomes automatic. But here’s the breakthrough: those pathways can be changed.

Every time you interrupt a negative thought and replace it with gratitude, you’re building new neural connections. You’re training your brain to default to peace instead of panic. To notice blessings instead of problems. In the Bible, Romans 12:2 has been saying this for 2,000 years: “Be transformed by the renewal of your mind.” Gratitude (and the ability to find joy in the situation) isn’t just a nice idea. It’s a tool God gives us to actually transform how we think, feel, and live.

Not only is this a reminder to us all, but it is also parallel to Erica’s situation. She is retraining her brain, building new paths to walking, talking, forming thoughts and overcoming fears. The trails in her brain are not just dug deep, but overgrown and impassable.

We pray that new trails emerge as we consciously and intentionally choose joy.

And by the way, thirty-six hours later, our path lead us to a ridiculous hot dog and an amazing hidden setting on the beach. We enjoyed both.

‘Tis the season for catalogs—the pages upon pages of glossy, full-color fashion photos that will draw any home-bound fashionista back to the mall. If laughter is Erica’s best medicine, retail therapy is a close second.

As the catalogs stack up, she is drawn like a moth to a flame. She must go shopping. These photos tell the story (also my reminder of Erica’s Christmas list).

Enjoy.

Friend in photo: Kristen, a colleague at Evereve, the boutique where Erica used to work.

I was right! Foundation is the first step. That seems pretty obvious, but I was pretty proud of myself anyway.

The ladies reading this probably assume that I am talking about makeup. The men may think that I was building something. You are both correct. I was building something — courage. The courage to do Erica’s makeup without really messing up. It takes a lot of trust to have someone approach your eye with a pencil. Erica trusted me. I did not.

Erica was going out with her friends. It was Friday night and the annual pickelball banquet. She hasn’t played for four years, but her friends still invite her as if she’s been at every match. And they insisted that she go out with them and I stay out of it. Meaning, I am not there to help her out of the car. Not there to help her find her words or finish her sentences. Not there to catch her if she falls.

It’s fair to say that we both had hesitation. The reasons why are many. Some are deeper, like Erica not wanting to be the center of attention. Or the opposite, being present, but left out. Some hesitation is practical, like knowing how and when to react to Erica’s symptoms. It was only a week ago when we were out with another friend, Angie, a high school/college friend who came to visit from North Carolina, that we had to abruptly leave a restaurant when Erica fell ill just as the food was delivered to the table.

We fought the temptation to give in to comfort and just order pizza and a movie, which has been our Friday routine for 20 years. This meant that I would be applying lip liner and Erica would be taking a big step forward. Nearly four hours later, Erica returned from their dinner, energized and glowing. I’d like to take credit for the glow, but I know that makeup wears off, foundational friendships do not.

This post not only celebrates the wonderful evening Erica had with her pickleball friends, but is also a cheer to the friends that have have been a foundation through this journey. I can never list you all and don’t mean to leave any out. But just in the past few weeks, visits from Terra, Annette, Susan and Angie, shopping with Amy, time and meals from our church small group… the list goes on and so does our appreciation.

Peanut Butter Explosion: a flavor at your favorite ice cream shop? Or what happens when you try blending a smoothie as you are rushing out the door. For me, it was the latter.

It has been a month since I’ve written a blog entry. I feel like there is a lot of catching up to do. But then again, maybe not. This blog started as a way to update friends and family on Erica’s condition. Changes were frequent and significant. Lately, we’ve been managing a steady state; no hearing loss, no broken bones, just a bit of digestive system management. To spare you the discomfort and save Erica’s dignity, I’ve held off on posting those details. So, not much to report. But that’s where this story begins.

For the past few treatment cycles (i.e., infusions of Enhertu and Avastin every three weeks), Erica has struggled with inconsistent digestive patterns. This has lead to appetite changes and a constant battle with finding food that Erica will tolerate that also provides nutrition. Chocolate Ensure has become the go-to. (Side note: Ensure could use a fresh branding campaign, because that stuff is not just for old people. It’s actually pretty good).

With the Ensure supply running low and no other solid meal seeming to spark interest, Erica’s mom remembered that Erica used to love a chocolate peanut butter banana smoothie that we would make. Erica agreed to give it a try. Great, we have a winner! Unfortunately, Erica likes the way I make them and I was on my way out the door. So, I quickly grabbed the blender, bananas (hint: frozen bananas are the secret to perfectly thick, cold smoothies without the drink getting too icy. Peel, half and freeze bananas that get a too ripe so that you always have a stash on hand), chocolate protein powder, milk, ice, and a heaping spoonful of peanut butter. Throw it in the blender. Do not scrape the sides of the blender with a rubber spatula while the blades are running… unless you are going for a Peanut Butter Explosion.

The sound of grinding blades was awful, the cold liquid blasting my face, I smacked the off switch and stood silently, stunned. Thick, cold substance oozing down my face, drips from above steadily dropping on my head. The smell of peanut butter was rich in the air, and on the cabinets, ceiling, counter and floor. As my anger started to rise, I heard a beautiful, familiar sound. Erica’s laugh.

From two rooms away, Erica had a line of sight to where I was standing. She was in a room with her mother and our neighbor Terra who could not see me and were just chatting away. As my eyes met Erica’s, I caught the vision of what she must be seeing — her man soaked and dripping in liquid chocolate peanut butter. Her infectious joy washed over me as I too started laughing.

Shout out to Loretta and Terra, for quickly jumping in to help (which they so often do). I resisted for a moment, feeling that it was my mistake, my mess, my responsibility to clean up. But help is a blessing and I’ve learned to receive it. Yay!

“I know John Mayer and I would be best friends if he met me.” says Erica in full sincerity. A claim she has made since she started listening to his podcast in 2018. I sort of believe her. They have the same sense of humor and who hasn’t befriended Erica when meeting her?

While I do appreciate John’s sense of humor, I have become a huge fan of his lyric writing and guitar playing over the years. So it was a great privilege for Erica and I to see her “best friend who she has never met” perform live last night. This moment was a long time coming as we had previously seen John in 2019 but had to give away our concert tickets twice over the past 4 years due to Erica’s health. (We did get to see him as the front man of Dead and Co last summer, but those are not his songs and a completely different vibe).

So, with Erica in her wheelchair and the help from our son Christian and his girlfriend Lauren, we navigated the crowd to the front section seats where we sat just under the jumbo video. Her hero larger than life just feet away. Unfortunately, I had not taken in account the better side for her good ear. But the music was more than loud enough and brought smiles, and an occasional whoo-hoo, from her all concert long.

This event came on a rough day. She just had treatment on Wednesday, so we are in the stretch of days where fatigue is at the highest. She requires 12+ hours of sleep, everything is more painful and movement is much more difficult. Erica continues to amaze me with her courage and commitment to live life to the fullest of her ability.

During the concert, Lauren asked me my favorite John Mayer song. I did not have a quick reply because he has covered so many styles, life moments and emotions for us through the years. But recently, I’ve been greatly moved by ‘Stop This Train‘, a song that challenges the non-stop journey of life. In the bridge, John asks his father how to stop the train, to which his father replies, “Don’t stop this train. Don’t for a minute change the place you’re in.”

I thank God that I know where our train is heading and celebrate every memory along the way.

(For those interested, I’ve posted a clip below of why I insist on seeing John Mayer live whenever possible).

Erica’s 3 month, full body CT scan results came in today — “No suspicious cancer activity. Fracture deformity noted within the right clavicle.”

I’ve not seen Erica more proud in the entire 30 years that we have been married. In my last post, I told how we’ve raised two very competitive boys. I thought they got that from me, but now I know otherwise. With a glow of pride in Erica’ face she responded, “Really, I broke my shoulder? I can’t wait to tell the boys.”

This news does not take away her shoulder pain and the challenge of already restricted movement, but it did confirm that her pain was not imaginary and the thrill of her bike wreck was worth it… And, the boys were impressed with how tough their mom is (although they already knew that).

This news came as we are relaxing with her aunt and cousin in Wilmington/Wrightsville Beach, NC. Nothing like good home cooking and being near the sea to make everything feel better.

We are thankful that Erica’s body continues to be cancer free. As we wait for her next brain scan, she continues to work with speech and physical therapy to improve in all areas. We continue to learn how to support her in the day to day.

But this week, we are both enjoying a different pace of life.

August is birthday month for our boys, Bram the 21st, Christian the 31st. With their college and adult schedules, it has been difficult to get together and celebrate. So, we were happy to be able to make the hour and a half drive, each way, to meet them for a meal on Labor Day. Erica had really been missing the boys and this short visit was the joy-boost that she needed.

This has been a difficult and disappointing week following Erica’s trike accident. Yes, the bike that has been a motivator and topic of excitement suddenly became a point of fear and sadness. Up until last week, she had been riding in a vacant school parking lot. This week, the air turned cooler and we got a bit ambitious, deciding to take it up a notch and go to a park. With cars, dogs, other bikes wizzing by, Erica went off the road, flew like superman (her words) and crashed on her shoulder, thankfully in the grass. The injury is severe enough that her arm will be immobilized for a few weeks. Her pain is great, but emotional discouragement may be the greatest hurt of all.

There are moments when I see a maturity in my children that surpasses the level to which we raised them. Lessons that they learned in life, not at home. Lessons learned by risk, fully committing… and getting hurt. Learnings that they can pass to others, even their mother. Our boys grew up very active in contact sports; ice hockey, lacrosse, and rugby. They certainly knew the pain of sprains, broken bones, surgery and concussions. Our home has been converted into an infirmary many times. So when they heard of their mother’s injury, I could hear the true empathy in their voice, even over the speaker phone. But after listening to her story of the crash and the pain that followed, they each responded, with their own words of wisdom.

Bram had severely sprained his shoulder, neck and chest in a high school ice hockey game. He was immobile for weeks, should have missed the entire season, saved only by COVID postponing the season for over a month. He knows the pain she is dealing with. Every little move hurts and sometimes sitting still hurts worse. He told his mother (paraphrase), “It was five weeks before I could fully move again and a year before it fully stopped hurting. But when I realized I would be able to finish the season, I got back on the ice after about one month. Just practice at first, and it hurt. The coaches eased me in and I got to play the final games. He told of F1 drivers who crash get in the simulator right away. You have to get back in the cockpit or live with regret.

Christian picked up on Erica’s disappointment as she was expressing failure. She had been progressing so well through physical therapy. Now, how far would weeks in pain and a sling set her back? To this, Christian confidently told his mother that this was not a set back. She was trying something new and simply learned what not to do. (Paraphrase) “When you get better, just go back to the last thing that you did comfortably, something that you know you can do. Go back to the parking lot. You are not going backward, you are just starting again where you left off.”

This is what I heard:

To fully heal, you have to recover mind and body simultaneously.

and

When you are pushing yourself further, failure is not a set back, it is a good try.

These words were for Erica. But also for me. And perhaps for you.
Is there something you need to overcome? If so:
Are you focused on improving your mind or body or both?
When was the last time you took a risk and gave it a ‘good try”?

Scanxiety. No, I did not just make that word up. It is a very real part of a cancer survivor’s life. For many, it happens every three to six months, just before the MRI or CT scan that determines whether your next three to six months are going to suck or not. And then you get to do it all over again three to six months later. For some, scanxiety is like PTSD, it leads to physical symptoms, depression or anger. For Erica, it is a quiet, “I’m scared. Talk to me.”

So, we did a lot of talking last night as we mentally and spiritually prepared for her brain MRI today. I’ll admit, after the roller-coaster of the last six months, I had concerns of my own. What results would we get? What new news would disrupt the progress that we’ve worked so hard for? We are just getting used to this new normal, what changes will we need to make now?

The results of her MRI came around 2 p.m. today with great relief when the doctor said that everything we are doing is working just as it is expected. The most concerning areas of lesions and edema (swelling) show “considerable decrease since the prior exam.”

There are still a lot more considerations that Erica’s team of doctors still need to discuss. And there are still many of her symptoms that don’t exactly align to one cause. So the battle is far from over and we don’t have all the answers. But we do have good news today. Answers to prayers and a refreshed joy.

I am writing this blog from my back deck as Erica sings out loud, in her slurred speech, struggling to keep up with the lyrics to John Mayer’s, The Age of Worry – “Rage in the age of worry, Sing out in the age of worry, And say worry, why should I care?”

When I asked Erica if she thought she would sleep well without anxiety tonight, she quickly replied, “Well, I’m just happy to not Rest In Peace.” 🙂

Erica had her regularly scheduled oncology check up and treatment today. The doc is very happy with her current treatment so decided to continue as-is until we get MRI brain scans next week. This is good news because when the doc wants to make a change, that usually means there is a concern. Erica’s vitals and other tests are excellent. Best blood pressure we’ve seen in 4 years!

The treatment went smoothly. This is the third round of the Avastin/Enhertu combination. We will see how this is going when we get the scan results on 8/21. The doctors will be looking for changes in brain swelling and treatment effects in addition to tumors. It’s hard to imagine that things could be going in the wrong direction when everything we are seeing from her physically and mentally is going in the right direction. But this rational thought does not take away the fear that creeps in. It is irrational faith that brings us peace.

With all this going on, it is back to school season. Our son, Bram, starts his senior year at John Carroll University this week. So like every college parent, Erica and I made the annual Sam’s Club run. Although for Erica, this was the first grocery store experience since being out of the hospital. She insisted that she come along. We had no idea how this might go, but in the end, we may have had a little too much fun!

It has been two weeks since my last post. In that time, Erica and I drove to Maryland to visit my father, my sister came to visit for three days, my mother has returned to her home in Florida, Erica has been learning to ride her new trike and she went to the ear doctor. So needless to say, this has been a busy stretch of ups and downs in a short time. I could have written complete posts about each of these experiences because the reflections go deep. But for the sake of catching up, I’ll skim the highlights.

My birth father lives in an over 55 community in Maryland with level lots, homes built for accessibility, safe sidewalks and a community pool. Everything was so easy, as if it was designed for Erica. We met new friends including Kelly, an amazing woman who has been legally blind for over thirty years and has learned to adapt to a highly functioning independence. She wrote a book that creatively describes her experience with vision loss and finding excitement while accepting it. What an inspiration and an overall enjoyable, but short, visit.

My sister’s visit was another inspiration for Erica. At age 44, Kristin had a severe brain injury that caused her to not be able to walk due to balance, she struggled to form words and could not focus on single tasks. Sound familiar? After three years of therapy, Kristin is now able to plan trips and travel on her own from Florida to Pittsburgh. My sister is able to understand exactly what Erica is feeling, physically and emotionally. They spent three days talking and laughing. And without saying a word, she challenged Erica to climb stairs without assistance. If Kristin can do it, so should Erica!

My mother returned to Florida with my sister. And as our youngest son, Bram, returns to college on Friday, we are beginning the transition to relearn life in an empty nest. We will certainly have help from family, friends and the church, but nothing can compare to the six weeks of full-time dedication that my mother committed to living with us. What started as complete caregiving, became support and then light assistance — I am convinced that Erica’s improvement could not have been as rapid and successful without my mother’s commitment. We will be forever grateful.

And the update you’ve all been asking and praying about… the hearing. The ENT surgeon and audiologist confirmed that Erica has complete hearing loss in her right ear. This is possibly a side effect of earlier chemotherapy, but more likely a brain radiation treatment effect. This is irreversible and was very difficult news for Erica. Just another blow to her health. We’ve been talking about how she keeps winning the battles, but each one leaves a little more scars. The yay is that her left hearing is better than perfect! So Erica is be able to hear just fine (from the left side). Erica’s ENT and Oncology team are in communication to be cautious that future treatments take her left ear hearing into consideration.

So the battles and the biking continue.
Thank you for the prayers.