Deck Reflections

Diane and Gordy

Alumni House--Homecoming 2010

Last night Diane and I spent a quiet reflective couple of hours on the deck. It was very peaceful and serene with Indian Summer clearly the order of the day. An occasional hickory nut fell from our trees, the hibiscus and impatiens are still in bloom, yellow finches fed at the bird feeder, and there was a gentle breeze. Oh, did I forget? A couple of glasses of wine added to the tranquility and yes, even I had a glass. While it is not uncommon for us to talk about the "c" situation, last night we delved a bit deeper into some significant issues.

It all began when Diane asked, "Gord, did or do you ever feel alone?" I knew then our conversation was going to be a little bit different. I thought for a moment and replied, "Absolutely. Every night during treatment I would lay there in that bed, hooked up to my feeding machine, with both the fan, and cold mist humidifier humming away. I couldn't help but realize I was alone in that room as poisons coursed through my body killing the cancer cells." I through the question back at Diane which became the order of the evening and she replied, "Yes! Even though you were upstairs and sleeping about 17 hours per day, you weren't the same ole Gord. You were sick. I had never seen you like this before for so many days. Heck, you hardly took a sick day in 38 years of your career, but now you really needed me. I felt alone in this house even though you were upstairs."

Gord, have you learned anything about yourself and/or situation? Yes, with your help, I have been able to handle whatever has come my way. I'm more adaptable to adversity than I thought I would be. Of course, part of the credit goes to those wonderful folks who prepared me for what I was about to face. How about you, Diane? I know way too much about base of tongue cancer and its treatment. I now know terms and meds that I had never heard of previously. For the most part, I could take care of my children when sick but this was a whole new ballgame. I had to learn about things in order to deal with the cancer. I learned that I am a pretty strong woman.

Do you look at mortality differently, Gord? Heavens, yes (no pun intended). For the first time, it is clearly on my radar--enough said. And you, Diane? Yes, I try not to think about life without you but I know it is a possibility albeit remote.

When did you feel the most scared? Yes, that's easy. The night at 35 Indian Trail when I absolutely could not stop throwing up even when there was nothing else inside of me. The bile was so strong the paint came off in 2 places on the toilet seat. This ordeal continued the next day when I hurled out the car window on the way to Burlington for another radiation treatment. Yuck. How about you? I have a few incidences: March 4th, the day you were diagnosed and heard about the malignant tumor from the specialist. Also, when you were hospitalized with an infection for 3 days. And finally after treatment when you had sores covering the inside of your mouth and you were in so much pain.

Sad times? Not really. I was on major drugs and for a long time, I was in fog. Upon further reflection, I feel sad that my family has had to endure this, but it's part of life. Lou Gehrig said it best, and it applies to me as well, "I am the luckiest man on the face of the earth." I know you have had some sad times, Diane, right? While I have only had a couple of "ugly cries," I seem to be a bit sad or melancholy when I stop to think about what you have had to endure. In the throes of your treatment, I was exhausted and too preoccupied taking care of you to get sad.

Anything surprise you? Two things according to Gord: one good, one bad. The downside would be the diminished physical capabilities of the "new" Gordy. I can walk for hours but I do not have the old energy which was my trademark for 60+ years. I am hopeful and told that the best I can expect is to become 80% of my former self. This will come with greatly reduced taste buds and salivary gland activity. I suppose these are not really surprises but I never expected I could be compromised in so many ways. On the bright side, the answer is loud and resounding: PEOPLE have simply been wonderful to me and my family. When I was in the midst of treatment, the mailman said to Diane, "Is it Christmas at your house? You are always getting so much mail?" While it is a bit of a fog, and someday I will reread them, every day saw 5 to 10 cards arrive from well wishers. It was truly amazing and I was very moved. Diane: I completely agree with you about people. Friends have called not once but some all the time. The words people have written have moved me to tears on more than one occasion. Also, the sincerity is remarkable and genuine.

What do you miss? Enjoyment of dining out and the days when I stayed up past 9 and could sleep past 5. Diane explained that she misses the serenity and stability of our life, being able to plan ahead, and not worrying about the future.

Diane is off to New York City to meet up a bunch of her friends from the "old neighborhood" on Glenoak Drive and Briarwood in Macomb. These ladies have been meeting annually for about 15 years at various locations around the country for a long weekend of renewed friendships. They used to call these trips "going to camp." So they fondly called themselves "The Campers." Next week our entire family will rendezvous in Macomb. It will be hectic, crazy, but great fun. There will be no lack of stimulating conversation and laughter.