Using dogs in cancer research

We watched a repeat of 60 minutes tonight that included a segment on how dogs and humans share many genes and cancer research in dogs is helping humans. Cancer is actually more common in dogs, so there are more subjects for research. I was happy to see that glioblastoma (brain tumor) is also one of the cancers being studied. Our son Phil died 3 years ago of glioblastoma, and he loved dogs. After his Lab Rosa died, he began a pet sitting side gig. This cancer's treatment has been stuck (in my opinion) in slash, burn and poison for probably 60 years with little progress, so life expectancy is still about 6 months to a year when the tumor is found at stage 4.

Trial cancer treatments for dogs could lead to breakthroughs for humans (msn.com)

Rerun from October 19, 2019

Today is Sunday and we're making arrangements to be with Phil later (had brain surgery on Tuesday). Funny flashbacks to the 1970s. Raising kids is a challenge, and those families you see in the church narthex on Sunday morning, smiling and sweet and adorable, have probably just been through hell to get there with car seat hassle and snow suit zipping and "Where is your left shoe, young man?"

One Sunday morning we finally got everyone into the driveway and were heading for the garage when Phil did a break away run, dashing the opposite direction. Bob's a pretty quiet, calm, reserved guy, but he'd had enough and in those days he was bigger than Phil. He caught him, tanned his little bottom, and almost tossed him into the car. Phoebe and I just stood there wide eyed, and didn't say a word.

We walked into the narthex of UALC after a short drive down Mountview Rd. and I'm sure all the congregants nodded and smiled and thought, "Isn't that just an adorable family, and so well behaved, too."

Beau Biden didn't die in or because of Iraq

One of Joe Biden's favorite lies is that his son died in Iraq, and if he's having a good day and remembers that his handlers told him not to say that, he corrects it to "because" he served in Iraq. And sometimes he gets it mixed up with Ukraine but says Beau was on his mind. Beau Biden died of glioblastoma, not from anything that happened to him in Iraq. (He was a military lawyer.) He can be commended for serving--a lot of sons of the privileged don't do that. He was certainly a greater man than Hunter Biden, who then consoled Beau's widow by going to bed with her. Glioblastoma also killed Ted Kennedy and John McCain, but that horrible, deadly cancer did not kill Beau.

Since our son died of glioblastoma in 2020 and I was his caregiver,  I try to read as little as possible about it. Here's a study of the last 10 days: "The most frequent signs and symptoms in the last 10 days before death were decrease in level of consciousness (95%), fever (88%), dysphagia (65%), seizures (65%), and headache (33%). Concerning medication, 95% received opioids. There was a high need for nonsteroidal anti-inflammatory drugs (77%) and anticonvulsants (75%). Steroids were given to 56%." There really has been little new in that field, although other cancers have shown great advancements in treatment. It's slash and burn for glioblastoma. Cut the tumor out which lets it spread; then burn the brain with toxic chemo and/or radiation.

 
As awful as Iraq was for thousands of our military, it didn't kill Beau Biden.

The last day, September 30, 2019

With the change to my new computer and Windows 11, some of my e-mail folders didn't transfer, but I don't know why.  Fortunately, some old letters I wanted to keep did, and I found one from our very last day of life as we knew it.  September 30, 2019.  The next day our son Phil had 2 seizures, was hospitalized and diagnosed with stage 4 glioblastoma. But when I wrote this his life and ours was continuing as usual, not knowing what was to come. 

"We’ve been eating dinner on our lovely deck almost every evening since we returned to Columbus on Labor Day, but it just may be too warm this evening.  We’ve also been enjoying sleeping with the windows open, but that will probably not work tonight. I love hearing the train in the distance. 

I’m learning all the buttons and features for my new car, a white 2019 Pacifica, which is the most recent version of the Chrysler van.  It has keyless entry which is very nice, but I have to be careful.  I’d love to have that feature on my house door for when I’m carrying in the groceries. We’re still waiting to get the owner’s manual, and don’t know what some of the bells and whistles are for.  I can look on-line but there are 718 pages, so I don’t want to print the manual.  We also have a free subscription to Sirius radio, but it seems now days you need a smart phone in order to live in our society, so I’ll have to wait until Phoebe has time. And for the umpteenth time the street is torn up and we have no water.  I’m not sure why Kenney Rd. has so many problems, but it does. 

Last night we had our UALC Bible study group here for a meeting and dessert—pumpkin pie and ice cream.  It’s such a nice gathering, and I always enjoy them.  Howard and Betty are leaving Thursday for Ireland, and both have significant health challenges. Two years ago they went to Scotland and arrived in the U.S. (Houston) during the hurricane, and were stranded there for 5 days.  Dave and Donna used Phil as their dog sitter last month, and were so thrilled, she just gets weepy when she talks about him.  She said she didn’t know a bachelor could keep his home so clean, and their dog just loved him. David had tripped on a curb when getting his driver’s license renewed, and had a black and blue face. We celebrated his 81^st birthday.  One member will be having surgery for liver cancer and her first grandchild around the same time.  And Sunday School class is similar. We have about 40 and a goodly number are 70+.  Lots of changes going on at church, which is always hard on the older folk who like things to stay the same. 

And we’ve had several deaths.  Our best man in our wedding, Tom Moir, of Indianapolis died in late August so we drove there on the 4^th for the funeral.  He’d been a part of Bob’s life since elementary school. We also went out for lunch with some other guys from their "Slobs" high school group. We had a really good visit with Bob’s family and spent the night in their new “shared” home (4 generations). A busy place with 3 dogs.  

We went out for our anniversaries and my birthday with Phoebe and Mark.  Had a lovely time at a restaurant in Grandview. On Saturday Phil and I went back to our old neighborhood and had lunch at the Chef-o-Nette.  When she was in kindergarten and Phil in pre-school, he and I used to go there, grab a snack and then pick her up at the school across the street. 

Bob’s brother is recovering from his emergency intestinal surgery in August while they were travelling to California from Arizona, and when Bob called recently he was vacuuming which we thought was a good sign. It’s been a very slow turning around. 

We’ve got a nice trip coming up on October 9, but mainly here in central Ohio. It’s with our Conestoga group, which sometimes means a little walking or stairs, so I’ll just have to see how that goes.  Sometimes old, historical buildings don’t have elevators. 

Stay safe—and cool."

Tribute to Phil from his friend Sonja

 Sonja and Phil went through cancer treatment together. She has survived and moved to a lovely 19th century home in central Ohio which she has lovingly furnished with her antiques and pets. She's a huge Civil War fan.  Today is the second anniversary of his death, and I saw this on her Facebook post today, April 21, 2022.

"There is a huge hole in my heart, that was created when God called you home 2 years ago, on this day. It still hasn’t healed yet, and sometimes I feel like it gets bigger.

 
I find myself wishing that I would see a message from “Tripod” (still one of our funniest names ever created for you) pop up with a “can you talk now?” I sometimes cry still, when the 4pm hour rolls around, as that is when you would call after work, and we would have our marathon conversations filled with laughter, sarcasm, and wisdom…what I wouldn’t give to have you rocking on the front porch with me, having one of our conversations, and enjoying our pure, deep friendship. Damnit, I miss you, Phil!

The Bruces gave me the honor of speaking about Phil, at Phil’s memorial service 2 years ago, these are the words I spoke."

 

  

Sonja remembers February 9, 2020 with Phil

Sonja wrote on Facebook today: I miss my Philly B with every beat of my heart-he was the best friend a girl, like me, could ever ask for. [She was going through treatment for breast cancer and he for brain cancer. Her close friend Annie had just died of kidney cancer. All were members of UALC.]
2 years ago, this day, as he was in the battle for his life against Glioblastoma, his concern was for me, and my shattered heart on losing Annie, that is how Phil was.

 
The following are our text messages from the 9 & 10th of February 2020 [not included here] …I still treasure them to this day. He also “demanded” we take a picture together, which we then laughed and laughed, as we came up with the name for us “The Egg Heads”.

 
I went down and spent the 9th with him and then again, the following day, before I had radiation, as the Glioblastoma was kicking his ass, we ran some errands together, then picked up a pizza, and had lunch together. As we sat across the table from each other, we had a conversation that no besties should ever have, one of dying, it is still too personal for me to share, but it guts me every time I think of it…lots of beautiful silences, lots of tears, and most of all lots of pure love, that only two true friends can have for each other.

 
Phil made everything ok for me, he was my rock, a source great wisdom for me, my sounding board, and also my source of great belly laughs, especially when he would call me after work, and we would watch “Emergency” together. He had the biggest heart in the world, and it was also an ornery heart, which is probably why we were besties-ha! Not a day goes by that I don’t think of him…

Valentines Day is always hard, because that became [our] day, not for the reasons you would think, but because it was the day that we reconnected, oh so many years ago, and he “introduced” me to his meaning of it (and no, I won’t share that either, but it is hilarious), so every Valentine’s Day after that, he would wish me a “Happy VD Day” (and again, not what you think).

 
Damn, I miss him, I miss Annie…I hate February, I just hate it, and I hate it more that these 2 important people to my heart, have now been gone for 2 years. F*ck Cancer, just f*ck it to Hell, where it belongs.

Advice for cancer patients

 Yesterday I decided to repack some of Phil's things in nicer boxes, and then to put the sympathy, get well, and thinking of you cards, notes and letters inside the boxes. There were well over 200 of those.  Of course, then I had to pause and reread them, which is sort of kick in the stomach, but I remember the comfort they brought us in the Spring of 2020 and when he died in April.  One is particularly worth sharing because it's good advice for cancer patients.  It's from his cousin who is 12 years older and was a great help to us in filing the paper work for social security disability (although the first check didn't arrive until after he died).

"I was hoping to be able to find words of strength and encouragement that I could share as you deal with all your health challenges.  But it's hard to find anything profound and helpful to say, though I wish I could.  I had cancer five years ago and it's a long, lonely journey in many respects--no one else can really understand what you're going through, even when someone has had cancer themselves. So I mostly just wanted to tell you to hang in there, keep fighting, and don't shut people out.  I wanted to do everything alone, and just be alone, and in retrospect I wish I'd let more people in and had been able to be more welcoming of the support.  At least more welcoming of the food people offered that we kept turning down!

My one cancer survival tip is to tell you to laugh every chance you can get--not an easy task on the days when it's hard to even get out of bed but it's worth creating every possible opportunity to do so.  For months I watched only comedies and comedy specials on TV.  I rented ridiculous movies, watched every stand-up comedian I could find, and went to every funny movie I could go to.  I was the only thing I enjoyed while going through treatment.  I'm sure the endorphins that laughter produces helped--but mostly it just felt like an escape and respite from doctors and hospitals and all the people hovering over me and all the cancer talk.

Completely unrelated but I also, for some reason, enjoyed putting together jigsaw puzzles--although not sure that's something you'd like.  I sounds pretty old-fashioned and dull (although as the most elderly of the Corbett cousins I'm sure it's my duty to share old-fashioned ideas), but I found it very soothing.  I was such a concrete and orderly thing to do, when everything else seem chaotic and out of control--I knew how to start with the edges, how to organize the colors, how to finish, how to rip it up when I was done.  And best of all I could do it even when my brain was foggy."

And she included Rolling Stone's list of the 25 funniest movies of all time.

Sonja loves snow

She was hoping for a white Christmas and she got one. We get very little snow in central Ohio, and only rarely on Christmas, but we had about 3 inches by 10 p.m. last night.  Sonja got her wish.  Our lights on our deck outside are buried, but muted.  And she’s thinking about her friends Ann and Phil.  Annie died of kidney cancer in February, and our Phil died of glioblastoma, brain cancer, in April. Sonja is in recovery from breast cancer.  As children they were all members of UALC, and their parents all are friends or ours.   Sonja spoke at Phil’s service in June at Gender Road Christian Church.

"It is so quiet and peaceful. . .what a blessed Christmas Eve, even as I have a few tears as I am sending love to my Annie and Phil in Heaven. Annie would be loving this snowfall, and Phil would be loving his Christmas tree.

Thank you God for this white Christmas, my soul needed it. . . kinda makes me want to dig out my little tree, and put it up, instead of continuing to bah humbug the festivities, but honestly, not decorating the inside of my house has kept me focused on the reason for the season, and I know it sounds strange, but it has made it really special to me."  (Facebook post, Dec. 25, 2020)  Photo is Phil and Sonja in February showing off their hair after chemo.

And yesterday, Christmas Eve, we also got a call from Keith, a friend of Phil's who has been under the weather with that nasty virus we've all been trying to avoid. He's almost completely recovered now. He was wonderful support for Phil and us when he was ill, and spoke at both the GRCC service in June and at Lakeside interment of ashes in August.

Keith and Phil in February

Checking the site meter

I have a meter on my blog. Each post gets usually 40-50 hits, since blogging isn't as popular as it once was. (I've been blogging since 2003, before Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, etc.) That doesn't mean the person necessarily reads it--keywords are used and a Google, Bing or Duck duck go search could just mean a search found it. The Google algorithms were changed a number of years ago to favor businesses and large news services and most people stop searching after the first 10-15 suggestions. I rarely check it, but did today because I was updating some labels. I noticed my memorial for Phil https://collectingmythoughts.blogspot.com/2020/04/philip-vincent-bruce-1968-2020.html had almost 900 hits

On being a caregiver

It's been 2 weeks since our son Phil died, and I may write more of my reflections (and advice to others) at my blog when they come to me. Let me first say it is a privilege to be with a loved one when he is dying, although it will be the most difficult thing you'll ever do. Phil was Phil from the beginning to the end, and although that could be very frustrating when we wanted him to go a different direction or not cause self-harm, he was also a testament to God's creative power. From the moment of our conception to the moment of our last breath, we are the same person going through stages. Jesus has ennobled our frail human bodies that get sick and die, and from here on Phil has no bounds.

When we got the call from hospice in February we were totally unprepared--we thought Phil would be continuing his chemo and battling his brain tumor. It was an ugly fight, but he was determined to stick with the treatment. The appointments were on the calendar. But with hospice, treatment stops and palliative care begins. Our weekly visit and daily phone calls turned into 24/7 care. Because of HIPAA and Phil's personality, we knew little about his treatment or glioblastoma, only what we'd been able to learn on our own. We didn't live in the same community and knew nothing about his financial situation. The national situation almost eliminated our familiar support network. And we were so wrong about so many things.

Imagine (if you are about my age) you know how to drive a car--you've been driving so long it's almost second nature. But it's becoming difficult and you no longer do the free ways and stay with the streets you know. You vaguely remember how to drive a stick shift because you learned that as a teen (or in my case, your husband has one). So, these two nice ladies you've never seen before pay you a visit, show you a 1950s era pick up truck, put you behind the wheel, and say, "Don't worry, we'll teach you what you need to know." Meanwhile you're headed for the entrance ramp to drive through the center of Atlanta at rush hour, or Chicago through 50 construction zones at night. In a pick up truck you don't remember how to drive. At every stop light, a different person climbs in the cab and reroutes you--no map, no GPS. Sometimes at night something breaks down and it takes hours to get help. Fortunately, there are some hitch hikers to pick up along the way who really do help and explain things.

If you've been or will be a caregiver, your mileage will vary; spouses have rights and relationships with the medical system, financial institutions and social networks that parents and adult children don't have. The same people who are there to help may also say, by law we can't advise you, or that's not my area of expertise.

If you are healthy now and have no worries, pause and reflect. Two days before Phil was diagnosed we'd had a birthday lunch at the Chef-o-Nette in our old neighborhood and we knew nothing about what would be coming on October 1.

Seeing things unseen

When Phil was hospitalized twice in 6 months, we met and talked to many foreign doctors, nurses, paraprofessionals, social workers, techs and staff. We also noticed that medical practitioners from other cultures, particularly African and Indian, have a whole other way of looking at, touching and treating people. It's not about being kind, although they were; it was intuition. It's like they have a second sense endowed by their cultures about the body that book learning and college degrees don't offer. And they were not like each other, either. Filipinas were not the same as Nigerians. I wonder how this translates to current demand using telephone, Zoom and Skype.

Philip Vincent Bruce, 1968-2020

Philip Vincent Bruce was born November 25, 1968 in Columbus, Ohio, and died April 21, 2020 in the home of his parents, Robert and Norma Bruce, in Upper Arlington, Ohio. He so longed to be in his own home in Canal Winchester where he'd lived for many years, however, a diagnosis of glioblastoma on October 1, 2019 meant he needed around the clock care in his last months. Phil attended Tremont, Jones and Upper Arlington High School, graduating with the class of 1987, enjoying all the amenities of the pools, parks and athletic leagues growing up, and the spiritual guidance and programs of Upper Arlington Lutheran Church where he was confirmed. He later took a few business classes at Columbus State. Although Phil learned to read before kindergarten, what he really cared about was not books or degrees, but people.  From the time he could walk, his interest was gathering a crowd for play or friends to visit, or standing on a stool to reach the kitchen wall phone. In pre-school at First Community Church, story hour and sitting still were not interesting; the playground or playing in the corner with other "busy" boys was his idea of a good morning. And that never changed. To the end of his life, he maintained friendships from his old neighborhood, elementary and high schools, the work place and church.

For both socializing and alone time, he loved music, especially guitar. Although he did have a few guitar and piano lessons, for the most part he didn't have patience for that and preferred working out the details on his own, and for that he would be absorbed for hours. He loved to put words together and wrote his own music.  It was his solace in alone time to unwind after a hectic day at work and his main vehicle for building friendships and socializing. Phil from the beginning was spiritual--and often would express his tenderness in comforting or visiting the suffering. His parents heard many stories about his reaching out to families of his friends or to co-workers in difficult times.  But he was also religious and enjoyed the sacraments, structure and organization that holds Christians together when we gather to worship Jesus as the visible church. As a little guy he would comment that he could feel the water on his head while the pastor gathered the children to watch a baptism. The last decade of his life he participated in the fellowship of Gender Road Christian Church and enjoyed playing in the praise band. He dearly loved his church, and even at the end of life would talk about going back to church in a week or two. His last communion was on April 14. A final prayer service with his family was held at his bedside after he died with Pastor John Romig of GRCC and Pastor Paul Ulring of UALC.  At this time, the funeral at Gender Road Christian Church has not been scheduled until we can gather freely and remember Philly B with stories and songs.

Phil is survived by his parents, Bob and Norma Bruce, his sister and brother-in law, Phoebe and  Mark Doncevic, many aunts and uncles, Jean and Bob Poisal, Debbie Sterling, Rick and Kate Bruce, Joanne and Nelson Miller, Stan and Casey Corbett, and many cousins, especially Joan and Dan Poynter, and some who sat on his lap as babies and then grew up to be bigger than he was becoming good friends as adults, and devoted friend to the end, Sara Reichly.

Phil was blessed with many grandparents and knew and loved them all--great grandparents Joe and Bessie Corbett, great grandmother Irma Byrum, Jim and June DeMott, Howard and Olive Corbett, and Bob and Rosie Bruce. Two brothers, Stanley and Patrick Bruce, died before Phil was born, but he always included them. Phil had been married and divorced, and for many years enjoyed being a step-father.  Phil loved animals, and after his last dog Rosa, a chocolate lab, died in 2018, he didn't get another dog, but started a pet sitting business and loved each client as his own.

For most of his adult life Phil had worked in the automotive repair business, in Grandview Heights with his Bruce Automotive Services, with Jack Maxton as the Quick Serve manager in Worthington, and most recently with Jeff Wyler in Canal Winchester.  He also had been an insurance agent at Collins Financial Services.

Baptism, 1969

With Grandma Corbett at the farm, Franklin Grove, IL 1971

With Grandma and Grandpa DeMott, Phoebe and Mom, Indianapolis

Phoebe and Phil at cousin Joan's for Christmas holiday

2018 Praise Band, Gender Road Christian Church 

2019 high school friends

Blessed are the poor in spirit

I haven't found the exact article on line I read today in the March 2020 Magnificat written by Kimberly Shankman about the meaning of her son's suffering, “The Richness of Poverty of Spirit.”  But this one about the last normal day she had with her son in 2014 https://www.thegregorian.org/2014/johns-last-normal-day  reminded me of the last "normal" day I had with mine before his diagnosis October 1, 2019. We had lunch together the last Saturday in September at the Chef o Nette Restaurant in Tremont shopping center in the neighborhood where we began our lives together, across the street from his elementary school, the swimming pool, the ball fields he played in and the library we visited every week. That day he was impatient and edgy, but nothing unusual. We both ordered "Hangover and fries," a specialty. No outward sign of the large tumor growing in his brain.

I'm not where Mrs. Shankman is yet on the meaning of suffering. She was reflecting on the Beatitudes in the article I read. She wrote that now she understands "poor in spirit" whereas before she didn't. "All the money in the world couldn't buy what I needed. What could save us--what did save us--was the recognition of my utter, total, abject poverty (of spirit). All I could do was beg God every day to show us his path on this rocky road. And he has responded with breathtaking generosity, showering blessings on us directly and through those he surrounds us with. The love of friends, support of neighbors and caring of strangers answer our prayers and bring us profound peace."

My new office

 

After 3 weeks of one finger typing on my I-pad I decided I really needed my computer and a desk at Phil's. I was looking on-line and at local stores and then everything shut down. So I looked around our house and noticed a drop leaf table in Bob's office was only holding books, and my great-grandmother's dining room chair recaned by my mother was just a place holder at another desk, so I set them up and brought over my computer. Open for business.

The table's story isn't too interesting--I bought it at Target in 2002 so Bob would have a table in his office while talking to clients about their architectural needs. The chair, however, if I can believe family lore, travelled from Pennsylvania to northern Illinois after my great grandparents married in 1855. Grandfather David had left home in 1848 to search for gold in California with a friend. The friend died, and somehow David ended up in northern Illinois, worked in Rockford, saved his money, then bought farmland between Ashton and Franklin Grove for $1/acre. There were other settlers in that area who were also members of the Dunkers (Brethren), German Anabaptists, so it's possible he knew people who could help him. So needing a wife, he went back to Adams Co., PA, and married Susan. She probably brought along a number of family things. Many years later, probably the 1920s, it was fashionable to paint old furniture dark, so my grandfather slathered almost every piece of furniture in the house with a reddish, black varnish to "modernize" them. The chairs fell on hard times, and were probably either in the barn or attic when my mom rescued them, refinished and caned them in the 1970s. I have three of them, and a fourth I think is with cousin Dianne from her mother, my mother's sister. If there are more than four, I don't know where the rest of them are.
And now you know why I can't say all that with an I-pad.

Update on Phil

When I noted on Facebook that Phil was at his own home after 6 days in the hospital with help from his family, a friend from church, a widow about my age, sent this message, one that warms a mother’s heart:

“Thanks so much for update on dear Phil, Norma. I continue to pray for him and your family. Please tell him I keep his note on my computer, and I think of him always; it says, "Thank you for everything you've done for me. Phil Bruce." It was attached to flowers he sent to me at work -- a long time ago. O how I have loved you, Phil, for many years, and I've always felt we have had a good connection, starting when you were in one of my Sunday school classes. I hope it feels good for you to be home now; I pray you can feel God's presence and love, Phil, and mine.”

This week-end we hired a care giver for the first time so we could get some rest.  However, with medication confusion and the need to be there for a plumber, we didn’t see much rest.  It’s like leaving your baby with a sitter for the first time. (I remember that, too.)  She’s very nice and we all liked her right away.  She’s from Sierra Leone and lost her own daughter during their terrible Civil War in the 1990s—and I’m guessing she would have been about Phil’s age.  She’s been in the U.S. about 30 years, is a Christian, and prayed with Phil (I found out later). https://www.blackpast.org/global-african-history/sierra-leone-civil-war-1991-2002/

Phil is on a number of prayer lists—my cousin Gayle, my siblings and the Indiana relatives have been particularly faithful about that, although there are many others. Phil’s church has a “Care and Share” group that brings him special meals and has provided me with suggestions. His pastors visit regularly.

Because of my vertigo I haven’t been driving to his home (about 25 minutes through a lot of traffic) and this week Keith, a friend of Phil’s from high school, was home (he’s a pilot) and provided me transportation three times, Sunday, Tuesday and Thursday.  On Thursday he also brought along a wonderful dinner of fish, rice and spinach which he had made the night before.  In addition to his friendship, he’s also a great chef. He was born in Goa, India and lived many years in Japan

Phil’s girlfriend Sara has been invaluable.  She’s a teacher with a busy schedule that includes volunteering, tutoring, and checking in on her own relatives, but still finds time to spend hours with Phil, bathing, changing sheets, running errands, doing laundry, and bringing him treats he likes.

Life is easier when the body of Christ works together.

No discounts for the uninsured—but insured do get discounts

The Madison Township Fire Department “provides fire, rescue, and EMS services to Madison Township which includes the Cities of Canal Winchester, Groveport and areas of Columbus, Lithopolis, Obetz and Pickerington. Our coverage area is approximately 42 square miles. It is comprised of three stations and responds to more than 7,000 runs each year.

The Department hosts an annual Open House each year in October at Station 182 on Gender Road and Station 183 on Noe-Bixby Road. This is an opportunity for the community to visit the station, see the trucks, and talk to the firefighters. We provide paramedic coverage at various sporting events for Groveport-Madison and the Canal Winchester Local School Districts each year.  On Halloween, our crews are out in the trucks greeting the children and handing out candy as part of Trick or Treat. We also participate in the July 4th and Labor Day parades. Our trucks and personnel may also be seen at various special events around our community. “

What the Madison Township Fire Department DOES NOT provide is a discounted bill for emergency squad runs for the uninsured. The October squad run to Diley Ridge Hospital, about 3-4 miles from our son’s home was over $730.  In order for Medishare to pay, they have to have a discounted bill—even $20 would count.  But the policy of this emergency service is no discounts for the uninsured. Period.  Don’t argue.

I’ve contacted them: “We are grateful that the township squad took our son to Diley Ridge after seizures October 1, 2019. We are gathering his bills for brain cancer treatment to submit for payment to Medi-share and have learned you do not offer the uninsured a discount so they can have the dignity of paying their bills. I have put this on my blog.  Do you have an explanation for this odd policy?  Any discount would make the bill eligible for payment.”

Perhaps we’ll get an explanation.

Astrocytomas—American Cancer Society

There are many types of brain tumors.

Glioma is a general term for tumors that start in glial cells. A number of tumors can be considered gliomas, including:

• Astrocytomas (which include glioblastomas)
• Oligodendrogliomas
• Ependymomas

About 3 out of 10 of all brain tumors are gliomas. Most fast-growing brain tumors are gliomas.

Astrocytomas are tumors that start in glial cells called astrocytes. About 2 out of 10 brain tumors are astrocytomas.

Most astrocytomas can spread widely throughout the brain and blend with the normal brain tissue, which can make them very hard to remove with surgery. Sometimes they spread along the cerebrospinal fluid (CSF) pathways. It is very rare for them to spread outside of the brain or spinal cord.

Astrocytomas (like other brain tumors) are classified into 4 grades.

• Non-infiltrating (grade I) astrocytomas do not usually grow into nearby tissues and tend to have a good prognosis. These include pilocytic astrocytomas and subependymal giant cell astrocytomas (SEGAs). They are more common in children than in adults.
• Low-grade (grade II) astrocytomas, such as diffuse astrocytomas, tend to be slow growing, but they can grow into nearby areas and can become more aggressive and fast growing over time.
• Anaplastic (grade III) astrocytomas grow more quickly.
• Glioblastomas (grade IV) are the fastest growing. These tumors make up more than half of all gliomas and are the most common malignant brain tumors in adults.

https://www.cancer.org/cancer/brain-spinal-cord-tumors-adults/about/types-of-brain-tumors.html

I’ve learned to spell abscess

One of my cardinal rules is don't post about family without permission, but I'm claiming James 1:5, asking for wisdom and in faith receiving it. Our son Phil is in ICU so I'm crowd sourcing prayers for this setback from those who know him and us. Even if you're a total stranger--that's OK. This has nothing to do with his brain cancer, but has resulted from an infected tooth, which created an abscess, swelling and closed his airways. We took him to the ER (local small hospital near his home) on Saturday afternoon and after testing and waiting for a room, he was transferred to St. Ann's in Westerville late in the evening. Sunday morning the hospital chaplain called about 5 a.m. to say he'd been intubated so the four of us went right out. We were with him most of the day, and by late afternoon it looked like the antibiotics were kicking in and he was trying to kick butt for all the indignities of tubes, machines, beeping, noise, mother hover, etc. So that's a good sign. Don't mess with Phil. He can't talk right now, but he can say a lot with a thumbs up or an eye roll every mom knows. As soon as he is strong enough, there will be surgery.

The pastors from his church have visited and had prayers with all of us, and Pastor John said they played his favorites in church where he’s in the praise band.

At the fitness center

I met a wonderful guy at the gym this morning. Kind, articulate, interesting, athletic and it turns out he was at St. Ann's hospital in the OR when our son had his surgery last October. Small world. The only draw back was we talked for such a long time I peddled for over seven miles instead of my 4 or 5 and now can hardly walk.

Update on our son

On October 1, 2019, our son had several seizures and was diagnosed with glioblastoma.  He has endured a lot in the last four months including side effects from the standard treatment for this disease, surgery, radiation, chemotherapy and steroids to reduce brain swelling.  Thursday he had another MRI and today consulted with his doctor.  He posted the following on Facebook.

"Hi there. MRI shows tumor growth. Docs don’t know if this is actual tumor growth, or scan findings are related to swelling from treatment. I’ll continue current treatment plan for 2 months and re-evaluate. Pray my symptoms subside. Love you all.  .  ."