backstagefour

The Simple Things

The doctors found one new nodule in my left lung.  My string of NED is broken, but it was a great run while it lasted.  Since it is one spot, the hope is to receive radiation to remove it.  I will meet with my lung radiation oncologist in the coming week to establish a treatment plan.  Surgery was also an option but it would remove a large portion of my left lung and we are trying to keep my lung intact right now.  If radiation isn’t a viable solution, I’ll have surgery.

The news was disheartening but it is my reality.  I’ve always known there isn’t a cure for my diagnosis, but of course I’m always praying and hoping for one.  The good news is, it is only one spot and it can be treated.  The doctors were optimistic about my current treatment regimen because it has been about a year since my last surgery to remove cancer nodules.  On this trip I learned my cancer will come back and I hope it comes back one spot at a time with a long time in between occurrences.

The Texas Medical Center is a city unto itself.  MD Anderson is an entire hospital dedicated to treating cancer, not just a wing or a floor of a hospital focused on cancer treatment.  I’m very fortunate and thankful for Dr.Martin because she was able to use her contacts at MD Anderson to allow me to see a thoracic surgeon for an evaluation an hour after I learned of my scan results.  Seeing a thoracic surgeon right away saved me time.  It usually takes weeks to get an appointment.   It also gave me peace of mind because now I have a plan to treat this new tumor.  It would have been a long flight back if I didn’t have the meeting with the thoracic surgeon at MD Anderson.

When I had time, which wasn’t much, I did enjoy the city of Houston.  I went off my diet and ate delicious Texas BBQ, lots of Mexican food (which I love) and I also ate antelope. Along with the wonderful food, I was able to catch up with some friends I haven’t seen in over a decade.  It was great catching up and hearing about each other’s lives.  It’s fun because we are in similar stages of parenthood and I enjoy listening to parenting stories and seeing how our lives have changed over the past 10 years.

Again I’m faced with the complications of cancer.  I started to get ahead of myself by imagining being NED for a year or even longer.  Truly, I had a hard time identifying myself as NED because I thought it would come back.  I’m grateful it’s only one, treatable spot and, as of right now, I don’t need to switch chemos.  My latest approach to life is trying to see life as my seven-year-old daughter, Katie, sees life…Simple.  Cancer is complicated but I don’t need to make my life more complicated.

My daughter Katie and I had a wonderful interaction the other day which exemplifies simplicity.  She watched me struggling to open a jar of peanut butter because of the pain in my hands.

Katie told me, “You’ve suffered a lot dad.”

I replied, “Yes, I have.”

She then said, “Suffering is a good thing.  Jesus suffered for us.”

It is a very simple concept but one I’ve struggled with for a long time.

I’ve always had an awareness of how fragile life may be, but being told my cancer has returned is a rude awakening.  It helps me to live in the moment and see beauty in the little things.  I’ve noticed over the past months I am stressing over things I haven’t stressed about in years because I was NED and I was feeling good.  I wasn’t worried about dying. I hope it doesn’t take cancer for me to keep seeing the beauty in simple things.  I hope to view the world as my seven-year-old daughter…definitely not when she’s thirteen, seven is perfect.

Authentic Texas BBQ spot

Enjoying my evening with Ben Rhem at the Lodge.  We were “unlodgeable” by NDS standards. 

Great catching up with Wade Barrett

Brain MRI Results

Good news, my brain MRI came back clear of any cancer.  The day of the scan started out rough though.  I slept only a couple of hours the night before because my feet were itching and burning, a side effect of chemo. Because of my lack of sleep, I decided to have a relaxing morning and take Anabel to daycare later than usual.  My morning was a little too relaxed and I ended up rushing at the last minute to get out of the house.  As I was walking out the door, Anabel wanted her Dora winter hat.  We went back in and explored our house for the Dora winter hat.  We couldn’t find it and the fox, bear, zebra, or Minnie Mouse hat would not suffice.  By this time, I was going to be late for my appointment.  A crying Anabel and I went out to my driveway.  As I was holding Anabel, her feet began pushing down my sweatpants (I can’t wear any metal in the MRI machine and I prefer to wear my clothes instead of wearing a hospital gown).  I made the decision to waddle like a penguin with my pants falling down instead of putting Anabel, her lunch and backpack on the ground (I’m glad my neighbors did’t see me).  I buckled her into her car seat and sat down in my seat and realized I didn’t have my keys and I locked my house door.  I went to my neighbor’s home for our spare keys but the keys were to our old locks.  By this time I was 30 minutes late for my appointment and, fortunately, I was able to move it back.  I eventually was able to get into my house but it was a frustrating and knucklehead-filled morning.

On Valentine’s Day, Janie and I leave for MD Anderson In Houston, Texas for a week of medical tests.  CT scans are usually nerve-wracking for me, but in a new environment with new doctors it is a little more anxiety provoking than normal.  But I have spoken with people who have been treated at MD Anderson and they only had wonderful things to say about the doctors.  Also my thoracic surgeon, whom I love, trained there and is having a colleague “check on me”, which is very comforting.  I’m also looking forward to spending time together with Janie.  I’m trying to view it as a mini-vacation.  With that said, please keep me in your prayers and send me positive vibes the week of  Valentine’s Day.  As always, thank you for your prayers and kind words.

I thought this was cool.  Katie is on a billboard for her school.  We didn’t know anything about it until we drove past and Katie screamed “It’s me!”.

Reflections

Each year from Thanksgiving Day to New Year’s Eve is a time I use to reflect. Around Thanksgiving Day, I begin reflecting on things or events for which I’m grateful.  This year I was in Virginia Beach for Thanksgiving with my parents, my family, and my brother’s family.  It was the first time in seven years we were all together in Virginia Beach and I was thankful.

All in all, I’m thankful and blessed to be alive and to have a tremendous amount of support. My family and I couldn’t do it without all of your help.  Since being diagnosed I’ve seen over 12 doctors.  I want to specifically thank Dr. Ashkan Bahrani and Dr. Linda Martin.  I’m happy for the both of you being recognized as “Top Docs” in Baltimore by Baltimore Magazine, but I’ve known it for awhile.  Thank you for your compassion and care, for being my advocate in tumor board meetings, for remaining positive and optimistic despite poor scan results, truly listening to my concerns, allowing me to cry when I’m afraid and laugh with me when I’m goofy.  Thank you for seeing me as a person and not a number.  Words are not capable to express my gratitude for the both of you.  I know, without a doubt, I wouldn’t be where I am without the both of you and I view you and love you as my family.

Dr. Linda Martin, my hero

Dr. Ashkan Bahrani, also my hero

I also have to thank my spiritual team Cardinal Stafford, Deacon Vic, Father Jay, Deacon Luke and Father John Abrahams. Cancer isn’t just a physical disease for me; it affects me spiritually and emotionally.  I would be lost without your spiritual guidance and wisdom.

Around Christmas I reflect on past Christmases and the joy I’ve experienced around this time of year. I thought a lot about last Christmas, when I had my first positive scan in over a year and we went to Florida and Disney World.  My earliest memory of Christmas is from when I was in 1^st grade and I snuck downstairs before my family.  I remember being in awe of the presents and the awesomeness of Santa.  I saw my first skateboard unwrapped under the tree.  I had to ride it.  The living room carpet was high and made riding the skateboard impossible, but it didn’t stop me and I loved every second of it.  It seemed like I was riding the skateboard for hours, but actually it was probably ten minutes.  Carefully, I put it back under the tree hoping no one would notice I had been there.  I tip toed back upstairs and went to bed grinning, excited to return to my skateboard.

On New Year’s Eve, I reflect on my past year. This past year has truly been a miracle for me.  My last two scans have been NED (no evidence of disease).  I had two successful surgeries.  I traveled to Europe twice with wonderful friends.  I was able to help coach my daughter’s soccer team.  I’ve been able to work more.  I’ve been able to spend more time with my extended family and friends. It’s also been a year full of hugs and kisses from my little ones.

Katie is next to me.  Team Crusaders had an outstanding year and overcame an inept coach.

The only highlight of the Philadelphia Eagles season was beating the Patriots.  Tim, Matt, and I celebrating the victory at my brother’s house  in Rhode Island amongst many Patriot fans.  (Yes, my brother is wearing athletic shorts over sweatpants).  Matt also burned his shirt after the Eagles loss to the Redskins at the end of the season

This year has also had its own struggles with surgeries, lung collapses, and losing close friends to cancer. Tragically I lost a friend to colon cancer this week.  Heather Johnson was a friend and an inspiration to me and many other people.  She always remained positive throughout her struggle with cancer and was always looking to help others with cancer.  She helped me with parenting young children while having Stage IV cancer. Early on in my diagnosis I didn’t want to discipline my children because I believed I was going to pass away soon and I didn’t want their memories of me to be negative.  I wanted their memories of me to be fun and loving.  Heather helped ground me by providing perspective only a parent with cancer could provide.  I’m forever grateful to her because being a parent is the proudest and most important moment for me each day.  So please hold Heather, her husband Steve, her young daughters Grace (8 years old) and Katy (6 years old) in your prayers and close to your hearts.

It’s also difficult for me because everyone I’ve known that was diagnosed with Stage IV colon cancer before me has passed away. It scares me because I question, Am I next? I’m now the “old” one and I hope I can be as supportive to others as Heather was for me.

There is a lot of joy and happiness during this time of year. But it’s also painful for many who’ve lost loved ones.  Please take a minute and watch this video and keep in mind many people have struggles that you may not be able to see. God Bless

(Thank you Clark for sharing this video.)

Thankful

I received wonderful news today, both of my scans came back clear of cancer. As it was explained to me, the cancer is in my body, but the chemo is keeping it from forming masses. My doctors have said that overtime my cancer will figure out a way around the chemo and will begin forming masses. However, today I am relieved, elated, and thankful of the results. I will be appreciating every moment until my next round of scans in three months.

I will get my next scans done at MD Anderson in Houston, Texas. It is one of the leading cancer institutes in the country. I will get an additional opinion on my treatment plan and get connected to their system for further evaluations or clinical trials.

Also, I want to give a big thanks to Garrett Keeler for running in the New York City Marathon and raising money for colon cancer research. I greatly value our friendship Garrett and appreciate your kind acts. Hopefully, we will get down to see you and your girls soon.

I want to thank all of you for the constant support and prayers. Please keep them coming.

These were our Halloween costumes. Katie was a macaroni penguin. Is it bad that I have worn my outfit outside of Halloween?

Garrett ” Prefontaine” Keeler finishing the marathon.

Back in the Groove

I am doing much better since my last post. I went to a family wedding and it was wonderful to connect with my family in Rhode Island. I love going to weddings. I usually consider weddings as big parties with open bars and dance floors. Often the open bar helps me on the dance floor. This was the first wedding I’ve attended where I focused more on the ceremony and the beauty of marriage than the after party. It connected me to the importance of life, which to me is love. The wedding was exactly what I needed to help me focus on appreciating the moment. The wedding was a blast, even if I was drinking seltzer water with a splash of bitters (thanks Justin for the recommendation) and my dance moves were as awkward as ever.

It was perfect timing for me to be conscience of living in the moment. The wedding was on my birthday and the next day was my daughter, Anabel’s, third birthday. The timing was perfect because I was alive to be with her on her special day and celebrate her birthday with my extended family and friends.

At significant events and holidays, I always wonder if this will be the last “one” for me. Early on in my diagnosis, I would intentionally leave the main area of a party and listen to the interactions of others from afar. I guess I wanted to gain some insight into the dynamics without me. I understand that was not an accurate experiment and not beneficial in anyway. Now I appreciate every major family event and I don’t want to remove myself from the party scene because I don’t know if it will be my last.

One situation that exemplifies how I’m living in and appreciating the moment happens every morning. Usually, Anabel wakes up and comes into our bed. Once she comes over, I generally can’t fall back to sleep because of her rolling around the bed and the side effects of my chemo. Even though I don’t sleep, I look forward to hearing her little feet pitter-patter over to our room and feeling the warmth of her skin as she tosses her legs onto my chest or throws her arm over my face. I often find myself watching her and Janie sleep thinking; I’m so blessed to be alive to see this. I lay there secretly hoping Katie comes into bed for the same reason. Last month I had instances of appreciating the moment but now I know I’m in a good place because I’m not forward thinking. Spiritually, I’m letting God be God and not worrying or second-guessing the happenings of my life. The following prayer has also been helpful:

Let nothing disturb you,
Let nothing frighten you,
All things are passing away:
God never changes.
Patience obtains all things
Whoever has God lacks nothing;
God alone suffices.

-St. Teresa of Avila

I want to share another recent incident that makes me smile and reinforces within me the beauty of my life. The skin on my hands are peeling and becoming more sensitive from my chemo. I’m wearing gloves more and more to keep the lotion on my hands and the gloves allow me to use my hands without getting lotion everywhere. Katie, Anabel, and I were going for a walk the other night and Katie went to put gloves on before we left on our walk. Anabel saw that Katie was wearing gloves and also wanted to put some on. My insecurity of wearing gloves when it wasn’t necessarily glove weather and looking strange turned into something uplifting and special. My children wanted to be like me and I wasn’t strange in their eyes. I loved it.

I included a picture of my hand because it shows the side effects of chemo. Please don’t feel sorry for me, my life is great. The purpose of the picture isn’t for sympathy but to give everyone a visual of what I’m talking about when I mention the side effects associated with my hands and feet.

I’m feeling good physically and emotionally. Tomorrow I begin another cycle of chemo and I have my next set of scans the first week of November. Even though I’m feeling good, I’ll still take all the prayers, good vibes, positive thoughts, and kind words I can get.

Family

Chemo side effect

Birthday girl

The Next Step

After my last clear scan results, I was overcome with joy and celebrated with a trip to Croatia with my good friends Matt and Nancy Leslie. The trip was both a celebration and appreciation of everything in my life.   I went to Dubrovnik, which is a beautiful and picturesque city. We had a blast exploring islands off the coast and the many beaches. After Croatia, we went back to Medjugorje for a spiritual tune-up and to give thanks for all of my blessings.

Upon returning home, the ecstatic joy I was feeling from my clear scans began to change. It became confusion and guilt. I’m confused because I wasn’t expecting this news. I had reached a point where I had accepted death as an outcome and this news had extended my life. (I still feel like I’m living on borrowed time since last October when I was informed by one of my doctors that there wasn’t anything else she could do for me). Adding to my confusion is the fear of cancer returning. I started thinking again of my future. I avoid thinking about it to ease the pain, i.e. imagining my children in high school. I don’t like thinking of the future because it’s painful. It’s painful because I don’t like thinking about what I may miss out on in my life. I was doing a great job living in the moment and appreciating every minute of the day and I feel like I’ve lost that perspective.

The guilt I’m experiencing comes from my confusion. I don’t understand why I had this good news while many of my friends have died from this same disease. I feel lost and out of sync. Since being diagnosed with cancer, it has been a large part of my identity, more so than I would like to admit. I don’t let it define who I am, but not a day goes by that I don’t think about having cancer. For example, taking my chemo pills daily and the pain in my feet and hands is a cancer reminder.

I’ve been told God has a plan for me and I believe it’s true. I just don’t know what the plan is, so I’m confused/guilty/humbled and lost. God has answered my prayers and I am grateful but I also believe I don’t deserve this because there are so many people in need and more deserving of their prayers being answered. As a result, I pray for peace and understanding/openness to God’s will. In the meantime I’m going to continue to fight on, not just for me, but for Nick, Leah, Karen, Deborah, and Teresa who didn’t hear the words “no evidence of disease” and for all my friends who are fighting for their lives. I want to try to help as many people affected by this disease as I can. Please pray for me to be cancer-free for a year so that hospitals will be able to refer patients to me for therapy.

I’ve also included pictures of my extraordinary summer.

The Leslies and the Weins after our oyster boat cruise in Croatia.

Looking down on Dubrovnik

Wall around Dubrovnik

View of this city from the city’s wall

On top of Cross Mountain in Medjugorje

At the US Open tennis tournament with Justin Castello and Joe Young.

On the blue carpet sporting our American pride. We ran into John McEnroe who told us, “Nice shorts fellas, might want to rethink that decision”.  We had fun time bumbling around the tournament and NYC.

Praise God!!! No Evidence of Disease

I was told this would never happen, but the power of prayer is limitless.

My body scan and brain scan came back clear, no evidence of disease. My doctor was excited to tell me the news about my body scan and told me before our scheduled Wednesday appointment. I’m still overwhelmed and in disbelief. I wish my arms were big enough to hug all of you, but the good thing is my heart is big enough to hold all of you close to me. Words will never suffice to express how thankful I am to all of you. Please do not stop praying for my family and me. May this miracle be a reason to see the power of prayer.

Now, understand I’m not cured. The chemo is keeping the cancer at bay. I will still need to be on chemo for the rest of my life. But tonight for the first time, I’m putting my kids to bed cancer-free.

The Light of Cancer

Praying at St. Peter’s altar

I see my cancer as darkness, not an evil. As a result of having cancer, I have had too many beautiful experiences to consider calling it evil. I recently returned from Europe. It was a trip that never would have happened unless I had cancer. I visited a friend in Rome, whom I never would’ve met unless I had cancer. This friend is also my spiritual advisor, of which I wouldn’t have seen the need of having, prior to my diagnosis. I also visited Switzerland and stayed in a friend’s chateau, which wouldn’t have happened unless I had cancer. Not that my friend wouldn’t have offered it, but taking the time and finances to travel to Switzerland would never have crossed my mind. (Disclaimer, I am insecure about telling people that I’ve traveled to Europe because so many people have been so generous with helping my family and me financially. But please know that my individual round trip ticket to Europe was just under $40, another beautiful thing as a result of cancer.)

Cancer has helped me define what’s really important. Cancer has been the source of me connecting with friends I haven’t seen in years. I’ve reconnected with friends from elementary, junior high, high school, college and grad school, which wouldn’t have happened unless I had cancer. I often hear, “It sucks that it took cancer to reconnect”, but they are missing the beauty of the situation… the reconnection. I agree cancer is not fun, but there is nothing more important to me than spending time with family and friends, and I’m blessed because I have the best family and friends.

I have loved ones and friends who have died from cancer and I’m not blind to the pain and suffering cancer causes on the person and their families. I’ve experienced pain and suffering from cancer. I told Janie after my last surgery, “I don’t want another surgery”, because it was painful physically and emotionally. I was worn down. I know I’m not immune to the pain and the suffering cancer causes. I know I’m not done with my pain and suffering. I will experience more darkness and fear, beyond what I’ve ever experienced. But I hope to remember the beautiful experiences and insight cancer has given me. I often meditate on the thought of light covering my body and wiping out the darkness within me. Every phone call, message, email, text, and kind gesture from any of you sparks the light inside of me to help face the darkness.

This upcoming week is a week of fear and uncertainty. I have a body scan on Monday and I receive the results Wednesday and I have a brain scan on Tuesday and get the results the same day. I was able to receive chemo this past Friday, which I was excited about because I was unable to receive my last scheduled chemo because my blood work results weren’t satisfactory. By not having my scheduled chemo, my feet didn’t hurt and I was able to walk all around Rome and the Swiss Riviera pain-free. I truly believe there’s a purpose for everything, I never will be able to understand why, but I believe it.

I want to give a special thank you to Cardinal Stafford for being a great friend, spiritual advisor, and tour guide. Thank you to the Sisters of Mercy for your kindness and prayers. Thank you Annie Umbricht and your family for your generous hospitality and care. And last but not least the Martins, mes amis, I love you guys.

St. Paul’s Basilica, which I love

Janie and Cardinal Stafford leaving St. Paul’s Basilica

Janie and Cardinal Stafford admiring Rome

The beautiful town of St. Prex. Where we stayed in Switzerland.

Our backyard in St. Prex

The boat that took us to Chateau de Chillon

Janie and I resting in Chateau de Chillon

Enjoying Switzerland’s beautiful countryside.

Thomas, our wonderful host, and I having a talk on the wall. This was around 9:30 at night and it was just dusk.

Our beautiful chateau. Thanks again Annie Umbricht and family for your kindness and generosity.

The Martins and Weins on our last day at Lac Leman, Lake Geneva for the non-Swiss.

Ist Chemo Cycle Back and Completed

Today I finished up my first cycle of chemo and I feel good.  My feet began to hurt yesterday but it was expected.  My regimen is two weeks on and one week off. Thank you for the prayers and support.  With summer approaching and Katie and Janie’s school year wrapping up, I figured I would post a blog I wrote earlier in the year about a school visit I had at a local high school.

In October I was approached, by Upper Chesapeake hospital social worker, about speaking at a local school about cancer and my experiences living with cancer.  I jumped at the opportunity because I like talking to others about cancer and I believe it was an opportunity to educate others about living with Stage IV cancer.  I contacted the school to discuss the specifics of the assembly.  I learned, from the organizer, that a young teacher was recently diagnosed with colorectal cancer and the purpose of the assembly was to provide information and personal experiences.  But more importantly, it was a rally of hope for the teacher and for others who have been affected by cancer.

There were six presenters who shared their experiences with cancer. I learned a lot about different cancers and different treatments.  For example, one gentleman had a rare cancer of his appendix.  He endured a 24-hour surgery, (he described his surgery as removing all the organs around his appendix, power washing the organs and the organ area, and then putting the organs into place) followed by 24 hours of intensive chemo.  I can’t imagine a surgery lasting one entire day.

When it was my turn to speak, I was excited and felt a little nervous because it was my first time speaking in front of a large group about my illness.  It was harder than I thought because I’ve never told my entire cancer story from the beginning. Usually when I talk to people about my cancer, I’m updating them on the latest episode.  But starting from the beginning made me think of how much I’ve been through and brought up emotions I haven’t felt in a long time.  I felt scared, sad, and joyful all over again.  It was funny to look at the students’ facial expressions when I told them about a doctor touching my brain.  They seemed attentive and asked good questions. Most of their questions involved my wife and children, which I love talking about.

The presenter following me was a 15 year-old girl who lost her mom to breast cancer.  I was amazed by her resilience. She was not just living but thriving.  She had raised over $50,000 for breast cancer research and organized cancer awareness events.  I was blown away by her talk.

I often think about how my cancer has impacted my daughters.  I don’t expect them to pick up the colon cancer flag and wave it around or organize any charity events.  That’s not important to me. Its more important for me to see them running and playing with their friends and not thinking about me being sick.  It’s about being innocent at age 6 and 2.  I hope and pray they can live as normal lives as possible, whatever normal is nowadays.  It also assured me that my girls will be OK no matter what happens to me.  Walking away from school that day, I understood the assembly was just as much for me as it was for the students and staff in attendance.

Thank you John Carroll School for the opportunity to share my story.  The young teacher who had colon cancer is now in remission.

Speakers and their family members

May 29^th marked a year since my brain surgery.  This was my scariest and darkest time.  I included this photo for a good laugh.  The photo was taken just after I took off my head bandage and some of my hair is glued to my head. While posting this, I just noticed I have a light mustache that completes my creepy guy look.  The two doctors were residents who helped with the surgery.

Our trip to Medjugorje

Cross Mountain

Well I’m home recovering from another lung surgery. I’m a horrible patient because I don’t listen to anyone. It’s not fun recovering. It’s actually rather boring because I’m not supposed to do anything. But I’m familiar with the drill and decided to use this time to write about my trip to Bosnia-Herzegovina in February.

First, I need to be honest by telling everyone that I was insecure about talking to people about my trip. The trip sounded crazy. I was going to a small farming town in Bosnia where the Virgin Mary has been appearing to a few residents for the past 33 years. I was worried about what people would think of me for going to Bosnia. Not only was I going to this war-torn country, but also the reason why I was going to this country was because the Virgin Mary appeared to six kids there on June 24, 1981. I remember telling my oncologist I was going to Bosnia to “get cured”. His eyes got big and he asked, “What medicine are you trying to get?” I explained I wasn’t going for medical care, but for spiritual care. I went to Medjugorje to get cured.

This trip was not a vacation. At no point was I drinking out of a coconut or lying on a beach listening to the waves lap onto shore. Janie called this trip a spiritual battle. This trip was full of tears and prayers and more tears and more prayers. The trip allowed me to deal with two years of fear, pain, and loss.

While in Medjugorje, we developed a routine that would consist of going to church in the morning and the evening. In between church services, we would go on hikes to different spiritual sites and pray. The hiking trails were different than any hiking trails I’ve been on in the US. The trails weren’t made of dirt, but were made up completely of rock. Janie and I met at a wilderness school and have lots of hiking experience and were looking forward to these trips not thinking it would be that challenging. The funny thing was we got lost twice within the first five minutes of our first day of hiking. The destination of each hike ended at a place of prayer. I often prayed and reflected on Mary and how she helplessly watched her son suffer. I thought about how it is similar to the way my family and many friends who helplessly watch me suffer. It pains me to see helplessness and sadness in the eyes of people I love. Especially since I’m the source of the pain and sadness. All I want to do is help people and it hurts that I can’t even help the people I’m closest to. Knowing that I’m helpless was the reason I truly turned over my troubles to God. I can’t explain the feeling I had while I was over there. It is best described as a calming feeling. It became clearer when I returned.

Upon returning home, I was thrown back into the roller coaster of medical appointments and the uncertainties that accompany the appointments. I thought I was feeling rundown because of the emotional stress of everything. What I now realize is that while in Medjugorje, I didn’t have any distractions. While I was there my life was strictly focused on prayer, God, Jesus and Mary. Since being home, my life is full of daily distractions that keep me from focusing on prayer and meditation. However, some distractions aren’t bad like fixing dinner and helping Katie with homework.  Those things are necessary for a healthy functioning family. I believe it is impossible for me to have the same state of mind here as I did in Bosnia.  After experiencing the power of prayer and meditation, I realize the importance of incorporating daily prayer and meditation into my life.

I truly did not know what to expect going there, but I now know it was what I needed. I had such a wonderful experience I am going back in August. It will be interesting to see if I will be able to experience the same intimacy level in August compared to February. We were alone in February and in August we will be part of the summer masses.

Blue Cross at the base of Apparition Hill

Hiking up Cross Mountain

Statue of the Risen Christ

Special thank you to Dragan and his family for being excellent hosts. Hope to see you soon.

Our wonderful hosts