The Start of a Different Journey Along a Road That NO ONE Wants to Travel

It has been quite a while since I last blogged.  Usually, it is because we are having too much fun on our RV adventures to stop and take the time to write about them.  Sadly, this is not the case now.  In the blink of an eye, our lives have changed dramatically.  Our wheels are not rolling, all our campground reservations have been canceled, and our travel plans have been put on hold indefinitely.  Instead, we are on a different kind of journey, a road upon which no one ever wants to travel.

 

It started back in March, when we went to enjoy a relaxing day at Lake Havasu, AZ.  Instead, we ended up in the Emergency Room at Havasu Regional Medical Center with Dad suffering excruciating pain on the left side of his back and abdomen.   We thought perhaps he had kidney stones.  But the CT scan indicated much grimmer news, and the ER doctor urged us to return home to TX immediately to seek medical attention.

 

We called the very next day to schedule a consult with a highly recommended urologist in Kingwood, TX and were grateful to get an appointment within 3.5 weeks (originally we were scheduled 6 weeks out!).  But upon examination and review of the ER CT scan, this urologist deemed Dad’s condition was too severe and outside the scope of his services.  He referred us to Baylor College of Medicine (BCM) in Houston and Dr. Seth Lerner, BCM’s top urologist, stating that with 30+ years of experience practicing medicine, Dr. Lerner “wrote the textbook” on Dad’s condition.

 

Surprisingly, we got an appointment just 2 days later for a consult with Dr. Lerner.  After a PET scan, Dad was scheduled for a cystoscopy and transurethral resection which were performed on an outpatient basis.  Dad lost quite a bit of blood, so he was admitted to Baylor/CHI/St. Luke’s for observation.  He was sent home with a Foley catheter/bag for Mom to administer maintenance/care before it was removed a week later.

 

The scan/procedures provided confirmation of Dad’s diagnosis: Stage 3b, muscle invasive bladder cancer, with several metastasized lymph nodes.  

 

I feel like I got sucker- and gut- punched at the same time.  It is surreal to hear the word “cancer” to describe Dad’s condition. Cancer does not run in my human paternal OR maternal families.  And, ironically, Dad has never been a smoker nor ever had excessive exposure to chemicals, the two groups who are considered high-risk for bladder cancer.

 

We met earlier this week with the BCM oncology team.  They spent over an hour imparting information and answering our many questions.  There was no sugar-coating Dad’s condition.  They cannot cure his cancer, but they will pursue controlling it aggressively.  He will begin 4 cycles of combination enfortumab-vedotin chemotherapy/Keytruda immunotherapy, a muscle-invasive bladder cancer protocol approved by the FDA in November 2025 which has produced encouraging outcomes.   Thereafter, his bladder must be removed, and a neo bladder from a section of his small intestine must be created.  Unlike many medical doctors, the oncology team is not opposed to Dad partaking of some natural/holistic remedies which our wonderful friends, Stephanie and Curtis, have been instrumental in sharing.  For instance, he has been applying frankincense and myrrh to his abdomen area to assist with inflammation and to possibly kill cancer cells.  We have added many antioxidant/health-benefitting foods to his diet.  And he is drinking tea brewed from wild lettuce for pain management with no interference with his heart medications.

 

It has been so difficult to see Dad, who conquers all tasks with vigor and gusto, exhibit such a lack of energy and be in such discomfort/pain.  Furthermore, it breaks my heart to watch the emotional toll this has taken on my parents.    Dad may be the stronger one physically, but we always have relied on Mom to be our emotional pillar.  My beloved human Grandma always called Mom the family’s “Rock of Gibraltar”.  But I notice that the “Rock” now has many visible fissures and cracks.  She returns from her walks with a tear-streaked face.

 

If only I could wave a wand to repair our crushed spirits, piece together our shattered dreams, and cure Dad of his cancer, which comes with a 5-year survival rate of just 35%.   But I know only God has the power to relieve us of our burdens.  I know that every day my family is together is a gift from God, for none of us is guaranteed a “tomorrow”.  I do believe in miracles, and I know God answers prayers.   I just hope he hears the small voice of Rambling RV Rat through the roar of all the other people in this world who need his mercy and grace.

 

Though no easy feat when you feel like a guillotine is hovering overhead, Mom strived to return normalcy to our lives, particularly when we were awaiting physician consultations.

   

We had a somber trip home from AZ to TX. 

For Easter, we attended a beautifully-performed Easter Cantata, and we assisted in the delivery of plants to area shut-ins and seniors.  It was a heartwarming experience.  And I realized that sometimes the simplest gifts are the ones that bring the most happiness to folks.

The Easter Cantata at First Methodist Church.

Plant Delivery Volunteers.

We enjoyed Mom's lasagna Easter Dinner (Dad still had an appetite then).  And, we celebrated my birthday--or more accurately the anniversary of my rescue from the toy store so many years ago, which you can read about here:  https://www.blogger.com/blog/post/edit/741635452 7052845038/7395047688811937612

Having to forfeit pickleball and line dancing for less physical activities, we went to a couple of movies over these last few months and attended a Spring bell choir concert.

Known as the  "Ding-A-Lings", this is one talented group of bell ringers!

Despite Dad’s physical limitations/reduced capacities (he cannot lift more than 10 pounds for 6 weeks after his urethral transection, during which stents had to be implanted because the tumor is blocking the kidney-bladder connectors), we returned to volunteering at Mannafest Food Pantry, albeit for shorter shifts and more passive tasks.

 

For Memorial Day Weekend, we attended a ceremony in Lufkin, TX, we participated in placing flags on the graves of local heroes who made the ultimate sacrifice for their Nation, and we stood for a local Korean War hero finally brought “home”.  The rain didn’t stop us from arriving at 7 a.m. on opening day for picking at C&M Blueberry Farm in Livingston.

Ceremony at Gibson Funeral Home in Lufkin, TX.

 

As members of the Southeast TX Patriot Guard Riders, we participated in placing flags on graves of local heroes...

...visited with the Gold Star family of KIA PFC Stuart Moore... 

...and stood for the "Coming Home" Procession of Korean War MIA CPL Orestus Stewart.

 Great family farm and delicious berries at C&M! 

 

To commemorate a milestone wedding anniversary for my parents, we visited Livingston Lake State Park.  It was a far cry from the celebration they anticipated.  But it was reminiscent of one of their first dates.

Enjoying nature, even if it is only in our hometown instead of in a National Park, provides us all with some solace, serenity, and spirituality.

 

One thing I learned from this entire ordeal is that full-time RVing makes a medical emergency so much more difficult.  So, we are grateful that Mom always planned for “what ifs”.  Hence, we have this long-term leased lot on which to stay here in Livingston.

We are blessed with the prayers of family and friends, and we value the camaraderie of our fellow members of the Escapees RV Club.