About Hope

I have a lot to write about...it has been an amazing couple of weeks, full of highs and lows, hopes and disappointment and miracles and loss.

About 4 weeks ago I travelled across the northwest pulling a trailer and stopped to visit family in three different cities along the way. One stop was in Spokane, where the majority of my side of the family resides and I spent some quality time with my mom, brothers, aunt, uncle and cousins. We had a great time visiting and catching up, even though I was on a pretty pressing schedule.

Shortly after I left my uncle became confused of mind and speech and was taken to the hospital for tests where it was discovered that a tennis ball sized tumor was residing in his frontal lobe, pressing against the brain and causing terrible trouble. This is called "Gleobalstoma"(or Glioblastoma) and it is brain cancer and was at stage IV, very bad. He was given about a week to live if there was no surgery and the prognosis was less than hopeful for a succesful outcome even with the surgery to remove the tumor. Dire predictions of post-operative coma or paralysis made it look pretty hopeless. I spoke with my relatives by phone daily to keep updated on the sitatuion and it was decided that they'd try the surgery and hope for the best. This really wasn't much of a decision, as the outcome of waiting would've been a very quick death for my uncle.

The family was in a lot of turmoil, and the worst of it is simply facing the unknown spectre of a worst-case scenario, but the clan is tough and resilient and determined so we gathered our prayers and set to work supporting my uncle through this ordeal.


The surgery, about 6 hours worth, came off without a hitch and Howard made it through the recovery portion and into ICU. I received reports (phone calls and text messages) the he was doing better than expected for such a massive surgery and the doctors were surprised by his post-op progress. He had come out if able to speak a few words, and within a few hours he was tracking with his eyes and responding to people. Soon he was without a feeding tube and was taking nourishment by mouth. This was all on Friday (8/1).


Saturday morning (8/2) I received a few more updates but was suddenly overcome with an urge to go see him; to be with my family and to see if there was anything at all I could do to lend support to the recovery process. I have no idea where this tug came from, it just slipped into my thinking while I was at work. I had toyed with the idea of flying up there, but airfares for the short-notice purchase were extremely high so I had written off getting to go back to Spokane in the near future, content to just keep praying and keep connected as best I could.

I told Robin about my desire to go, and she supported me completely, so we dropped everything, took off early from work (we do keep pretty much the same schedules) and prepared for my second drive up there in a month. We packed up, got a quick oil change for the car and drove pretty much all day to our stop in Billings, MT. The next day (Sunday, 8/3) we drove the breadth of Montana and through Idaho and to Spokane, arriving in the evening and proceeding straight to the hospital to see Howard in ICU.

There's something about the first sight of someone close to you in the hospital, connected to monitors, IVs, circulation trousers, and all. It's a surreal vision of someone you know, but it somehow doesn't seem possible that this is the same person. The huge incision in the skull was held together by innumerable staples, and his countenance showed that my uncle was obviously under a terrible strain from the surgery. It's a challenge to take it all in, yet it's family so whatever it looks like, it's still the man I know and care about.


We visited, Howard responded, we prodded for recognition and responses. He faded in and out of the pain medications and took minutes of rest follwed by short times of awareness and communication. We left and had dinner with our family, then Robin and I retired to a local motel to get some much needed rest.

Monday (8/4) we spent time with Howard and did what little we could to support my aunt and other family members. This day Howard was a little more talkative, and was able to take food on his own once a spoon was put in his hand. It appeared at first glance that his progress was way ahead of what was predicted, and that a recovery back to some semblance of normalcy might indeed be in the future. We all knew that this would be a hard road of recovery, and that the life we had known before might not ever be, but seeing his quick recovery thusfar was showing us that we shouldn't underestimate what God could do here. The hospital staff had decided that they could move him out of Intensive Care and up to a normal ward since he was doing so well.

There was a lot to celebrate here, and we took heart in the precious time that we got to spend with him there.


Tuesday morning (8/5) we visited again, and he was moved to his new room on a regular care floor. He was talking, eating, and moving better than the previous day, and the therapists got him out of bed and into a chair to let him sit up for a while.

Robin and I needed to leave and get back home and back to work so we bid farewell and set out for the house, stopping in Coeur D'Alene to briefly visit our daughter and grandkids.


The trip home was going well until about 10:00 P.M. when I received a text message, then a phone call that Howard had suddenly passed away, a suspected blood clot issue that had taken him from us in mere seconds. There was nothing anyone could've done. One moment he was sitting and eating and then he was gone.

The next hundred or so miles were pretty rough, and we considered turning back around since we were only 7 hours away, but there was little we could do so we proceeded home the next day and waited for the rest of the family to make further arrangements. What a sudden turn of events...all that hope, the excitement and anticipation suddenly yanked out from under us. It all seemed so unfair, in spite our openly affirming that we would only hope for God's will in this matter. Sometimes His will is hard. This was hard. There would never be a satisfactory answer to the 'why' question.

Robin and I flew back this last weekend (8/9 - 8/12) to attend the funeral. Uncle Howard was honored as a husband, father, friend and veteran of the U.S. Navy. He was given a beautiful service and a suitable resting place.

I just want you to know that I was honored and blessed to know him, I will miss him dearly, and it would take a day to tell everyone what a fine and honorable man he was. Our world will be different without him. There will be a hole in my heart forever.

I cannot discount the time that Robin and I got to see him and be with him after the surgery. I am so very thankful that we were allowed to spend time with this great man before he passed away. He was a wonderful fellow all the way through, you didn;t need to make any excuses for him anywhere because he was honorable and decent and strong in his beliefs. He was a great storyteller, a wonderful card player, and great friend and a role model.

Just ask anyone who knew him.