A Final Entry

Ten days before Don died, I (brother Bob) took him up to some favorite lakes above his Fairfax home. This would be his last walk outside. I asked him how he was doing. He could have gone the route of saying how unfair it was or how scared he was or how much it all sucked, but instead he smiled and said ‘I have no regrets; life has been sweet’. I'll never get close to touching Don’s writing in his blog, but based on our last conversations, I tried to imagine what his final entry might look like. Here's what I think he'd have to say to his family and friends:

"I’m ok. Actually, I’m great. The views are unbelievable. Better than anything google earth could provide . . . and no cell phones! There’s a slight breeze but I can’t describe the co-mingling of scents yet; it’s a mix of spring mornings in Yosemite, cottonwoods along the Yukon and San Juan rivers, Costa Rican flowers, the salty smell of Stinson Beach near the top of the Dipsea course, my mom’s kitchen, and my wife’s shampoo softened hair. The trail is generally level through towering trees and wide open meadows, like one of my favorites near Lake Lagunitas. Importantly my legs don’t ache, my lungs are clear, and I don’t have to wear that nuisance of a neck brace. Jane there really aren’t too many switchbacks and definitely no ziplines, garage sales are unending, and you can dicker all you want. And there are beaches to visit in every direction. Matt, there are no fishing limits or seasons and the man doesn’t tax you here. Jessie, you can dance whenever you want, for as long as you want. And Violet, my granddaughter, playgrounds are adult free zones! My brothers and sisters should know that the Giants always win. Tom, interestingly, there are still schools here but summer vacations are 11 and half months long and only administrators have to attend.

Finally, friends and family, share your hearts with the world and don’t let your grief interfere too much with living, and laughing, and loving as if there is no tomorrow. Please take one of Jena’s 1001 cranes and pass it on to someone in need.

I’m ok."

Donald Michael Ritchie (1 November 1946-1 June 2009)

More To Come

Don's brother Bob spoke at Don's services and part of what he talked about was what Don's blog would be from Heaven. Bob is taking a few well deserved days off at Tahoe, but plans on posting it very soon. Stay tuned....

Services

There will be a celebration of Don's life and a Vigil at St. Rita's Church in Fairfax on Friday, June 5th at 7:30 pm and a Mass of the Resurrection on Saturday, June 6th at 10:00 am. Again, thanks to all of our friends for your love and support, it means so much to all of us. Jane

Peace...peace at last

Don found peace last night at 1:41 am. I know the exact time, because I was putting the microwave timer on every hour to make sure I was awake to give him his medication so he did not once again become painful. The medication also eased his labored breathing. Being very fatigued, I could not set the timer for some reason, so I decided to let it go and hoped that I would awaken on my own. I returned to the couch next to his hospital bed, and listened for his breathing. Very soon, I heard him take two deep breaths and then no more. At that exact moment, the timer went off. I had asked Don to send me a sign when he passed and I knew this was it. He had told me the day before that I was not to worry, that he was going to be OK and that all he wanted was peace. What transpired next was even more incredible. My sister-in-law had brought a rosary for Don to use that belonged to her little girl, Kaylee. Kaylee had received it from our niece, Amy, who had just brought it from a pilgrimage in Spain, El Camino de Santiago. We had placed it on the side rail of his bed. Most recently, his brother Bob had placed it around Don's right wrist, saying: "We might as well pull out all of the stops." Sitting at his bedside, just after his last breath was taken, everything was still. Suddenly, I saw a movement beneath the covers. It was his right hand being lifted and placed over his heart. For me, I know that the man who has loved me and that I have loved for close to 45 years, was letting me know that he will love me for all eternity and that "all is well." Peace and our thanks, Jane...

The Final Stretch

Our beloved Don is now on the final stretch of his journey. He fell into a comatose state about 1 am this morning and is resting very peacefully. He is surrounded by his family and friends, and the love is palpable. Between the tears and laughter, we are sharing some of the great stories of his childhood, teaching career, river rafting trips, zip lining (oops, that was me!) and more. We are hoping that his passing is a gentle one. I will keep you informed of his condition and of the plans for his services once known. Please keep him and his loved ones in your thoughts and prayers as this is a very difficult time for us. Gratefully, Jane.

Transition to Hospice

My condition is slowly worsening, and I have now decided to go with Hospice rather than take a chance on another round of a chemo that holds no promises. My family and friends bring me much comfort and joy, so I am spending my days with short visits, laughter, and receiving hugs. Once again, my brother Bob and wife are helping with this posting, so it probably does not sound much like me. It took them forever to remember my password...and I was no help to them at all! To all of you who have been so diligent in following my journey, I want to say thank you. My family is also very grateful for your support and well wishes. I am, however, full of surprises. I rediscovered the delights of Hostess chocolate cupcakes and I look forward to the next! Peace, Don.

Update, early May

It's been just two weeks since I last wrote, correction, since my brother last wrote; I will not take full responsibility for anything in that last post. I am slowly getting stronger, and am enjoying family and friends when I have the opportunity. Opportunities have been limited by the weather, schedules, and fatigue level. I have difficulty concentrating and focusing at times, somewhat due to the cancer and the medications used to fight the symptoms. My pain level is mostly under control although finding a balance between pain relief and a clear head is sometimes a challenge. More often then not, I am enjoying the changing weather, my family (especially Violet when I get the chance), visits from friends, gifts of meals well prepared, cards, and other expressions of support and love. My wife helped me with this entry, so I again will not take full responsibility for anything in this post! As always, thank you to one and all for that love and support. It not only means a lot to me, but to my family as well.

A long 17 days

A long 17 days ago I entered Marin General Hospital for a repeat performance! Pneumonia and pulmonary emboli were my leads. A little more than the standard fare, which includes nausea and neck and shoulder pain. I don't remember all of those days and that's why my brother, Bob, is handling this entry. I do recall telling him that he was the best brother a brother could have, but he's editing this, so don't believe all of it. Bottom line is I'm home again (returned in the heat of the day, Monday April 20) and will spend time updating you on my progress after I'm settled into a routine. For what it's worth, my brother says I look good and stronger every day. Enjoy this beautiful weather and, of course, Peace.

It's a blur

When I wrote last, I was pretty jazzed about being home and away from hospitals. I've been home for three plus weeks as of today, and while I have no desire to return to a hospital, the days have pretty much blended into one another. Routines have been established, most revolving around times for the various medications I still need to take, exercises prescribed by the physical and occupational therapists I've worked with, and the daily NY Times crossword puzzle. Generally, exercising body and mind consumes a couple of hours each morning and keeps me busy. A big thank-you to George Frazier and the Tamalpa Runners for getting an exercycle for me. I'm on it for 30 minutes or so each day, and last week I was able to ride with the Tour of California guys! It's great what a TV, a recumbant exercise bike and an active an imagination can produce.

The rest of my days are spent visiting, napping, watching an occasional movie. I have been able to get out for short walks when the weather and energy levels have permitted. Even so, it's difficult not feeling confined, of being under a "house arrest" of sorts. While I'm able to take care of myself during the day, I can't function independently away from the house; even at home there are limits on what I'm able to do. My brace goes on at 6AM when Jane leaves for work, and needs to stay on until either Jane gets home or someone visits (someone who feels comfortable helping me in and out of the brace -- big thank-yous to my sisters, Donna and Diane). While it allows me to be up and mobile, it is confining in the truest sense of the word. I makes negotiating stairs, reading, and other common activities difficult. Hopefully, I'll be out of it in another month or so.

I continue to be asked how I'm doing. For the most part, and understanding the limitations I've described above, I'm OK. As I've tapered my steroid meds, some of the pain has returned, but it's no where near where it was before going to the hospital. Getting off the "roids" may also be somewhat responsible for the kind of flat feeling I've had for most of the last two weeks; I'm sure there's more at play regarding my emotional health, but the tapering of the steroid dosage could be part of it. My hands continue to be weak, limiting some of the things I can do. It's amazing how we can take so much for granted -- the ability to take a cap off of a bottle, for example -- until we lose the ability to do it any longer. Those limitations are probably another factor in how I'm doing emotionally.

Blood pressure is somewhat under control; I've been able to back off on some of the meds I was taking because BPs were actually getting too low. They are still bouncing around a bit, but within a more normal range. I'll find out more about how I'm doing regarding chemo tomorrow -- blood was drawn today in preparation for the start of cycle two tomorrow (Thursday). My last tests showed good liver and kidney function two weeks ago and small changes in blood counts. A CT scan done three weeks ago showed some growth, not unexpected, in my tumors, so I'm kind of back at square one as far as the cancer goes. Hopefully, the next scan, after two or more complete cycles of abraxane will show stability or, better yet, some shrinkage of the tumors. Ideally, it would also show some healing going on in my spine; the last CT scan was inconclusive in that regard. And so,the waiting game continues. And while it does, I'll do my best to beat the odds, as great as they are. I will put in the hard work necessary to do so, as difficult as it can be a times, and will continue to be thankful for the support I get from so many.

Peace,

Don

Home!

Home, what an absolutely delicious word, especially when the previous three-plus weeks have been spent in hospitals. This past Friday I was discharged from Kentfield Rehab, and returned home for the first time since January 7. I had been admitted early that morning to Marin General Hospital with intractable pain due to the compression of spinal nerves by a collapsed vertebra in my upper back. As I've written earlier, that was due to the metastasis of my cancer to my spine. That tumor was treated with 10 days of radiation which caused the tumor to shrink. This was definitely a good thing, but it didn't come without some cost. As the tumor grew smaller, there was less material holding the bone together, and it began a slow collapse compressing nerves and producing pain and other symptoms.

Since then a good deal of water has passed under the bridge. Without going into too much detail, pain management has been successful; it does require medication on a very regular basis -- I'm taking methadone and a second drug that specifically treats nerve pain. In addition, I'm being treated for shingles -- I broke out with blisters just this past week -- which would help to explain some of the pain as well. The bottom line is that pain levels are manageable, and at times zero.

The compression of nerves has also caused weakness and some loss of function in my hands, in particular my right (and, yes, I am right-handed). However, I am getting a bit stronger and have learned some adaptive skills that are enabling me to function fairly independently around the house; time will tell if I will get some or all of my function back. I do need to be in a neck and back brace any time I'm out of bed, if even to make a trip to the bathroom, but with it on, I'm fairly mobile. I will probably need it for another five to six weeks to be sure that the bone heals without any further fracturing. I am learning to accept the fact that I am pretty much dependent on others though, and for fairly simple things in some cases -- just getting the brace on requires someone else to get me in it.

All in all though, and given the complications of the past two months, I feel good both physically and emotionally, better than I have since before Thanksgiving. I was able to begin chemotherapy this past week -- a new C1D1 -- with a new drug, abraxane, which has shown promise in treating pancreatic cancer. Therapy will continue on a once per week, three weeks out of four, schedule. Hopefully, I'll see the same sort of beneficial results several other patients of Dr. Tempero have seen since beginning therapy. One additional plus with chemo, is that I am able to do it here in Marin at California Cancer Care thanks to the cooperation between UCSF and Dr. Peter Eisenberg. That cooperation and the support I've received from so many professionals, friends and family have been hallmarks of my treatment since early January. The staffs at both Marin General and Kentfield were wonderful. My recovery has been due in no small part because of their work with me. And, I can't say enough about the continuing support family and friends have offered me, in particular that of my wife, Jane. I am a lucky man and feel loved. Thank-you to all who continue to remember me in thoughts, prayers, good wishes; they are an important part of healing.

Peace,

Don

Another turn in the road

Two weeks ago I was admitted to Marin General Hospital to deal with intractable pain associated with the metastasis to my spine. Five days ago I was transferred to Kentfield Rehab Hospital for further recovery. This latest turn in the road is due to compression fractures after the tumor was radiated. The radiation is complete and I am mending and the next goal is restarting chemotherapy soon. I've had a wonderful team of physicians, family, friends, nurses, and therapists helping me to achieve that goal. Unfortunately, some of the effects of the fractures have left me with weakness in my hands, so updates may be brief for awhile. As a matter of fact, my brother (Bob) is typing this right now and my wife is dictating as well. I am not responsible for anything you read after this last sentence . . . please continue your prayers and support; they mean so much to all of us.
Peace,
Don