Groundhogs Day

• Thursday, August 6, 2009 12:52 PM, PDT
To our friends and family. Michael's symptoms and deficits are adding up quickly. He is in his final week of chemo, and it has taken quite a toll on him. His energy level has been significantly depleted. He sleeps most of the day, and wakes up confused. While some of these symptoms occurred during the last chemo cycle, they are much more significant this time around. I'm not sure how aware Michael is of the change at this point. I fully expected him to rebound next week as the chemo begins to exit his body.

To help you understand how daily life is for Michael, I'll make an irreverent reference to the movie "Groundhogs Day." Both Michael and I love this movie, and love Bill Murray's character. Each day the character wakes up to the same day repeating. At first he is alarmed, and frustrated with this dilemma, but in time he learns to adapt to it. Michael had previously reminded me about this film whenever we discussed the possible problems with memory loss. We laughed when thinking about what a refreshing outcome this could be. Each day would bring him a new opportunity to experience life anew, and each day he would not be responsible for the last. It still makes me laugh just thinking about this.

In Michael's daily reality he keeps waking from his naps thinking his day has just begun. He talks about getting up late for breakfast, and unless I can convince him, he goes up to the kitchen for another bowl of cereal. Dr. Peak tells us that the temporal lobe is that part of our brain that assists with time and date. This function is much more complex than we might think. For Michael, it has become very challenging to remember what day, or part of the day, it is.

In in spite of this, Michael still has his sense of humor. Last night I walked into the bedroom. Michael looked at me and said, "I don't know who you are, but you are welcome to join me."

There is an MRI scheduled for August 17th, which will help Dr. Peak and Mady advise us on the next step to take. I can't help but feel that continuing the chemo will not be the recommendation. I am clearly seeing what quality of life means with these tumors. The possible cure just sucks the life out of you.

I hope all of you are able to read between the lines, and through my humor. I need to find humor, and joy each day. Without these I would be falling apart, which would do nothing for Michael. Anticipatory grief cannot be avoided, but I will not be overtaken by it.

My favorite part of the day is when I lie in bed, holding Michael, and looks up with a beautiful smile. Nothing compares to it. What a gift.

Love to all. Dan