On August 23, 2009 9:15 PM I lost my wife to a pulmonary embolism after three years of treatment for ovarian cancer. In the days that followed I would read her “Robin Kearney” Facebook page and the “R.I.P. Mrs. Kearney you will never be forgotten” Facebook page that was created by one of Robin’s former students. It was so comforting to read the posts that were written on these pages, Robin has touched so many lives and they wanted to share their feelings and memories.

Robin and I were never able to have children of our own, yet Robin had hundreds maybe thousands of kids. One of my joys over the years is the contact I got to have (even through rather limited) with Robin’s students. I was and am part of a much bigger family. Many of Robin’s students called her momma K and once you were a part of the family it was for life. At all of the schools she worked at Robin became known as the teacher you could go to with your problems, and you would always feel accepted. I remember a freshman came up to her one day and said “hi you don’t know me but I was told you help kids and I don’t have money for lunch”. Needless to say Robin took care of his problem as she would for any of her kids.

I have seen posts from students that span twenty years and I’m touched by the feelings and the memories that they shared. One of the great things about today’s technologies is the ease of communication; it enabled Robin to stay actively in contact with many former students as they went on to college or moved on in life.

After reading the Facebook pages I moved on to Robin’s blogs, her online diaries http://robinflamingo.xanga.com/ and http://robinkearney.redtoenail.org/. The first blog on xanga.com was a blog Robin started long before she knew she had cancer and is a daily blog were she discussed everything. The second blog on redtoenail.org is an online community that provides support for people with cancer and their caregivers, friends, and family. Redtoenail.org provides a place were you can meet people who can really say “I know what you are going through” because they are dealing with cancer too.

I found these blogs to be a terrific gift that Robin has left for me and her family. In reading Robin’s updates I remember many of these days so clearly because we had been living them together. The things that empress one in reading these post’s is that Robin was always thankful for all the gifts God gave her and frequently listed them. Robin saw Gods hand in many of the events in her life and she never lost faith. Robin never believed that God decided she would have cancer, but she did feel God guided other events to make coping with cancer easier.

Robin did not lose the battle with cancer, I truly believe she won. She never let sickness, chemo, surgery, radiation, pain or fatigue keep her from living her life to the very end. There were days when Robin would be dressed for school, sitting on the bed crying and I would say you don’t have to go and she would reply that she did. She would go and when she was teaching or with her students she truly felt better because they were so important to her.

This is Robin a friend, a mentor, a teacher, a daughter, a mother, a sister, a aunt, My Loving Wife and Best Friend.

I will love and miss you forever.

Mike

I do NOT have an obstuction. That sets my mind so at ease. They want me to keep eating my oyster crackers and drinking my G2 and working toward soft food in the next day or two. YAY!!!!

I’m still here, but still iffy about whether I should be…I “only” threw up once last night, and once this morning at 4 AM, just like on Monday…it’s almost a schedule now.  I just don’t think that’s so bad, but I also know how much weight I’ve lost, and how much I’m NOT going to the bathroom (a sign of dehydration.)  So, Mike will call the doctor this morning (he’s better at it than I am) and the next step will be determined.  I would still like to try to recover at home…but if the doctor says I need IV fluids, that will be the determination.  Of course, if yesterday’s x-rays find anything like a blockage, there will be no question.

Thank you for your continued prayers.  The other part of the update is that once this issue is addressed, he has to make adjustments to my chemo.  It’s obviously not doing the job at the reduced level – my numbers went up to 166 and the seven liters of fluid are a bit of a hint…So at the very least I’ll be recovering the rest of this week, have a doctor’s appointment on Tuesday, and chemo the end of next week.  What kind of chemo, I don’t know…that’s still to be determined.

This is called living on the edge – I can’t stand not knowing stuff, so this is making me crazy.  Plus, the pouting child in me that wants to go up north is stomping around announcing “It’s just not fair!”  The sarcastic adult inside of me has reminded me that the only fair in town is at 8 Mile and Woodward (The State Fair) and it’s not even open.

Sigh.

Since my paracentesis I have not held any food down for significant amounts of time. That was last Thursday late when I got home from the hospital. Friday, I was sick all day, Saturday I was sick all day, and Sunday I thought I was feeling better, so I ate eggs for breakfast and chicken and mashed potatoes for dinner. WHAT was I thinking? By Sunday night I was feeling like I needed to get sick because of the food, but I didn’t.

Monday, I actually got up, had coffee, went grocery shopping for the animals and staples (mom/survival instinct, perhaps?) and then everything went downhill. I knew I had a doctor’s appointment on Tuesday, so I just waited it out.

Well, it’s now 4:20 AM, and I just got sick, again…I’m thinking I’m going to try to limit my fluid intake so I can get into the doctor first thing. I’ll call, and they’ll make room for me to be there first thing in the morning. I’m probably dehydrated – I know I’ve lost nearly 30 pounds since Thursday (although 15 was probably directly from the paracentesis, 7 liters of fluid).

I wouldn’t be surprised if I end up in the hospital. Pissed off, but relieved. This just isn’t right. The real drag is that this weekend coming up, my parents were coming to the trailer to hang out and go boating/fishing. Sigh. I hate this disease.

But I now officially weigh the least I have in three years. I’m 95 pounds less than when I got sick back then. Wow. 

I’ll keep you posted, I promise. If they put me in the hospital, I’m going to want to have my computer with me.

Pray unceasingly. God continues to be in charge, and I have to trust his timing and his wisdom.  I love you all!!

There’s nothing lonelier than sitting up in the middle of the night waiting to throw up again.  That’s probably too much information, huh?

People keep telling me I have the right to cry, the right to complain, the right to NOT be Wonderwoman after three years of ongoing cancer treatment, but I have a hard time doing it.  Tonight, I’m going to make a really big effort to whine, cry, and complain.  SO…welcome to my Pity Party~!  Come on in, casual dress only, since I’m so bloated I couldn’t put on real clothes.

Today I called my doctor to schedule an emergency appointment.  This is only the second time in three years I’ve done this, so he usually takes me seriously. (Nota Bene:  some cancer patients “fall in love” with the attention they get from being sick, and everything from a hangnail to a bad hair day becomes cause for attention/doctoring/petting/pitying)  My reason for wanting to see him today is that since Saturday morning I’ve gained over ten pounds of fluid in my abdomen, and it not only hurts, but it makes it hard to walk, sleep, get up from a sofa, use the bathroom, and wear clothes.  I had a doctor’s appointment last week, and chemo last Friday, and everything was fine.  In fact, I felt great!  Then, all of a sudden, the cancer cell fluid goes into overdrive and my abdomen looks like I am 6 months pregnant beached whale who can’t turn over, sleep on her stomach, or even arrange her own pillows.  And it *hurts*.

Yesterday I had arranged to meet one of my “boys” who is off to grad school in September, since we had a lot of catching up to do, so I knew I wouldn’t go to the doctors until today.  My head counselor and principal came into my classroom before my guest got there, and were asking how I was, and I decided to be honest.

Bosses –   Are you in pain?

Me – constantly.  But I have pain meds and a pain patch that take the edge off.

Bosses -  Yet here you are, working.

Me – what else would I do?  It’s going to hurt whether I’m at home or in my classroom.

Bosses – I couldn’t do what you do.

Me – I really don’t have any choice.  I mean, what’s the alternative, giving up?

Today, all day, I’ve been crying because I just want to be normal, you know?  I just want to be able to go up north instead of waiting for hospital scheduling to call to schedule my latest paracentisis, which is the draining of fluid from the abdomen.  It usually equals several liters – up to 11, in my case!  But boy do you feel better afterwards. (The link is a youtube video of the procedure.  You’ve been warned.)  While all that fluid is in you, you can’t lay flat, you can’t bend, you can’t even keep your balance because suddenly you have ten pounds of slosh in the front of you.  So, I’ve been all weird and weepy, and then I feel guilty for being weak.   Plus, there’s a very real chance that if our enrollment drops too far, I’ll be out of a job.  Yes, I’ve been there ten years, but I’m not a “called church worker.”  I’m a “lay teacher.”  All lay teachers are laid off before a single called teacher is, no matter age or seniority.  So, there’s that little hatchet hanging over my head too.

Dr. T told me today that everything will be okay, and we have lots of options still open for treatment.  But dammit, after three years of nearly continuous chemo/radiation/shots/bloodwork/begin again…I’m tired.  While I’m not a quitter, and I’ll keep fighting the rest of my life, I have begun to understand why eventually some cancer patients decide they’ve had enough and stop treatment.  Apparently I have what is further refined from just ovarian cancer to “persistent” ovarian cancer.  This is my life, I guess, from now on.  So that’s part of the reason for the tears.

Then, tonight on So You Think You Can Dance my two favorite dancers, Ade and Melissa, danced a Tyce D’Orio piece about breast cancer.  It was amazing – strong, powerful, realistic, and beautiful.  But it ticked me off.  Even while I was weeping, I was pissed off.  Breast cancer is practically curable, and it still gets all the attention.  There are days when if I saw one more pink ribbon I’d have to scream.  And I have, actually.  Ovarian Cancer has decreased in recent years, from 63% to 50% but it’s still ONE in TWO.  Breast cancer mortality rates are less than 25% and going down constantly.  Don’t get me wrong, ANY exposure to cancer that makes one think, and leads people to hope and education is good…but ovarian cancer, called The Whisper, is difficult to diagnose, and even more difficult to cure.  While I’ve been in treatment, four of my students have had moms diagnosed, treated, and into long term remission.  And here I sit, feeling sorry for myself, and waiting to be scheduled for yet another procedure.  So, I’m having a pity party, and you all are invited.

No RSVP necessary.

I guess I owe you all an update! I was on vacation for eleven days without the internet, and it’s amazing how quickly I got out of the habit of using a computer!!  I wonder what that says about me?

HEALTH
I’m on year three of my battle with ovarian cancer. I’m also on my third recurrence, and my third kind of chemo. You know the saying “Third’s a charm”? Well…anyway!! I’m currently fighting fluid and cells more than a tumor. The fluid seems to be under control, so now we need to kick the tiny little butts of the cells.

My progress is measured by a CA-125 blood count. Normal is 0 – 21. Mine has been as high as 547 and as low as 4. It is currently on a downward trend at 133 as of yesterday. Even though it’s moving slowly, it’s moving, and that’s what’s important. This chemo (which I call Evil Orangeade because it’s not clear in the IV bag, but bright orange) seems to be one I can tolerate long term now that we have the dosage under control. In May most of the skin fell/burned off my hands, feet and anyplace else that rubbed because the dosage was high enough to give me Hand Foot Syndrome. Now we have that fixed, my hair is growing, and my numbers are dropping. Sounds like the right combo to me!! I’m not bald (which I have also been three times) and I’m getting better test results!! Dr. T says this is one I can stay on for a long time, which is good, since ovarian cancer is rarely “cured” – it’s usually chronic.

Now, here’s the prayer requests (you know I always ask for and covet your prayers on my behalf…I truly believe that God works miracles and is working one in my life)

1. Fatigue. Pray that I can have enough energy each day to try to improve my stamina with exercise. I’m just exhausted all the time.
2. Healing. I always ask for that!!
3. My husband, my hero: Mike is a rock, and he’s physically and emotionally drained a lot from my illness, and I wish you would pray for him too.

WORK and PLAY
Both of us are still employed at Lutheran North, so thanks to God for that.  We are having a good summer, getting to spend time up north, and I’m spending a LOT of time relaxing.  That isn’t getting my house any cleaner, but as a wise man once said – “Don’t sweat the petty stuff, and don’t pet the sweaty stuff.”    School starts the very last Monday of August, but I was in my classroom today making a few stabs at getting organized.  I’m sure as the month progresses I’ll find myself there more and more…I think I did very well staying away THIS long!!!

OTHER STUFF
Is there other stuff?  We work, we play, we sleep, we take care of my doctor stuff.  Chemo tomorrow…fiesta with the family for my Mom’s birfday on Sunday!

Thanks to all of you who keep up with my journey – and a journey it is and has been. I’m so blessed in so many ways, and my life is wonderful. God bless!

Yes, I could still commit the perfect crime~~ while I’m healing nicely, the new skin on my fingers is perfectly smooth, which is weird.  I’ve had a reduced dose chemo and I’m having a second one next week.  I haven’t been told any numbers yet, which either means they didn’t do anything spectacular, or they went down.  If they had gone up significantly, my doc would have called.  We actually placed bets that my next report would say either 102 (his choice) or 99 (my choice).  Guess I’ll find out next week.

We are gearing up for a four day up north, and then the following week is our eleven day vacation~!  I just feel better up there.  Doc has me going for bloodwork on the day I leave, in  case I need a shot…and I have a doc appointment the first day back.  Yeesh.  No rest for the … wicked?  weary?  wonderful?  You fill in the blank!!

I’m still here…it’s just business as usual lately.  School’s out, I’m sleeping a lot (got a whole year of exhaustion to make up for, apparently) and getting caught up in housework and the stuff that gets neglected.  More when I have some news!

“What I’m Going To Do On My Summer Vacation”

By Robin K.

This summer is already off to a roaring start after a four day weekend up north at the trailer.  We got six weeks of springtime cleaning and setup done, and now we are ready to relax whenever we go up.  (Generally, we get that all done in April and May, but as we know, May was The Lost Month this year.)  The lights are in, the plants are planted, the screen house is up, and the condiments fill the fridge.  It’s pretty much just an arrive, open up and enjoy situation now!

I have made my official Things to Get Done This Summer list too.  Would you like to see it?

Official Things To Get Done This Summer

1.  Clean the house.
2.  Rest.
3.  Exercise.
4.  Get sewing machine set up and create some amazing items

That’s it.  The sum total of what I wish to accomplish.  And truthfully, 2 and 3 will happen by virtue of going up north, so it’s really just 1 and 4.  I hope. 

Health update:  Doctor’s this week, bloodwork and numbers.  We’ll find out if reducing the dosage of the Evil Orangeade also reduced its effectiveness.  I do know I didn’t suffer as much with side effects under the reduced dosage, but that won’t matter one bit if the numbers don’t come down…pray for good numbers!

Just wanted to show you this picture right before I was diagnosed three years and a hundred pounds ago.  Wow. (Not that I’m skinny now, but still…wow.)