Tuesday, November 23, 2010

November is National Caregiver Month

Since this is Caregiver Month, Dewie spelled out the following message:

Thank you to my four angel caregivers,

The quality of care and love that you show is felt by me and I appreciate all that you do. It never ceases to amaze me how much you do for me. It makes me sad that I can no longer show how much I love you. Maria, Mabel, Pete and Sarah - thank you for loving me the way you do.

I love you,

Dewie

Happy Thanksgiving, Everyone!

The Walk to Defeat ALS was great!

The Dallas Walk to Defeat ALS on October 30th was a great experience for us. The weather was beautiful, there was a big turnout and Team DewieQ raised $1250 for the ALS Association. Thank you to everyone who made donations and who came out to walk with us. If you wanted to contribute but didn't get a chance, we will be participating in the Muscular Dystrophy Association's "Muscle Walk" on March 5th, again in Dallas. The MDA is also very active in research for a cure for ALS and sponsors the ALS clinic Dewie goes to in Dallas. More on that later.

Who is the dog in the picture?

That is Brindle, who comes all the way from Soldotna, Alaska to sit in Dewie's lap. She also brings her master, Forrest, who is Dewie's sister. Forrest was visiting with us for a couple of weeks last month and walked with us on the 30th. Brindle and Dewie have an agreement: Bindle agrees to warm Dewie's lap and Dewie agrees not to wiggle. So far, so good.

Dewie's Story Part 4


DR. VIROSLAV
I have said Dewie and I have had help coming to accept Dewie’s ALS and what her disease means for us. There were the support groups where Dewie and I could see that we are not the first to go along this path. Others have gone before us and are on this path now just as we are and they gave us good advice. “Prepare early,” they said, “Get things before you need them.” And “It’s better to have a wheelchair in the corner waiting for you than to need one and have to wait for one.” And “Its better to get a feeding tube while you can still eat than to lose a lot of weight before you decide to get one,” and so on. All of this is not only good advice – but it also presupposes acceptance. Preparation aids acceptance and as we began to follow the advice we became more accustomed to the idea of where our lives were headed. We had seen in the examples of others how life can be lived with ALS.
Then there was Dr. Viroslav.
Dr. Viroslav is the pulmonologist Dewie was referred to shortly after she received her diagnosis but before she had developed any noticable breathing difficulty. When we went for our first appointment with him, Dewie was given a breathing test to measure her loss of lung capacity. The normal progression of ALS is to eventually weaken the muscle that allows us to breathe, the diaphram. As the diaphram weakens, the patient’s breathing becomes ever more shallow and her cough becomes ever more weak until she dies from respiratory failure and/or pneumonia.
Dewie’s capacity was at 80 percent of normal. Dr. Viroslav asked us, “Why did they send you to see me? You don’t need me yet.” We replied that we didn’t know but that since Dewie had ALS, it seemed like a good idea to  see a pulmonologist. He said, “You will need me eventually. I am the one who will take care of you. The neurologists can make the diagnosis and they can track your progress, but eventually you will need a pulmonoligist and your neurologist won’t be able to help you. But at 80 percent capacity, you don’t need me yet. Lets take this time to let me tell you about your disease. Maybe no one has explained this to you yet.” No one had.
He continued, “Your disease will eventually take away all of your muscles, one-by-one. The good news is that these days we have the ability to replace the function of everything you will loose. You can eat without chewing or swallowing when you loose those abilities by using a feeding tube. You can breathe with a bipap machine or with a ventillator. Portable ventillators aren’t much bigger than a laptop computer these days and they’re very reliable. We can allow you to speak using a computer and you can control the computer with just your eyes when your hands quit working. Modern power wheelchairs are very good and allow mobility for you even when you are completely paralyzed.”
“They say you have a fatal disease. Actually, you always have. It’s called ‘life’. But even though ALS is considered fatal, if you choose to accept all the medical interventions that are available, you’re going to have to find something else to die from! The problem is that living with all of that stuff is a big adjustment and not everybody chooses to do it. So here’s my prescription for you today: Be happy!”
“Whatever that means for you, do it now! Don’t wait – be happy now. Because, if you’re happy with your life and I tell you at some point in the future that you need a ventillator, you’re more likely to give it a try.” He gave us some time to let that idea sink in. The advice hit home. Being happy begins with acceptance of your situation and Dr. Viroslav offered us the good news that Dewie’s life could continue if she wanted it to. But clearly, who would want more of life with ALS if they weren’t happy. Luckily for us and unknown to Dr. Viroslav, Dewie had a head start on happiness. It is literally her natural state. It is her greatest gift.
He continued, “I learned a long time ago that I can’t make these decisions for my patients and they don’t always go along with my recommendations. But I have found that if you are happy with your life, you are more likely to say ‘Yes’ when I recommend something.” It was good advice - the best. We took it to heart and have seen its benefit over and over again.
He finished, “You know,” he said, “If you have ALS, they say you will die within two to five years from diagnosis, but in reality, nobody knows how long you will live. You might live a long time with ALS. Or you might die on the way home from my office in an accident. It's not something you ultimately have much control over. But what you have absolute control over is what you are going to do right now. What are you going to do today? How are you going to feel right now? That you can control!”
Very empowering. Very positive. Dr. Viroslav’s prescription to ‘Be Happy’ was the best advice we have ever gotten. He is like no other doctor we have ever known.

Saturday, October 2, 2010

Countdown to the Walk to Defeat ALS - 4 weeks!

Here it is October and four weeks from today I will be participating in the Walk to Defeat ALS, sponsored by the ALS Association of North Texas. I want to help them raise money to continue helping others with ALS like they have helped me and to continue sponsoring research for a cure.

Thank you to those who have already made a contribution to my team. If you still want to contribute, I want to encourage you. You can visit my team web page and make a contribution by clicking here.

Love,

Dewie

Dewie's Story Part 3

DEWIE’S GREATEST GIFT

Dewie has always been a champion when it comes to acceptance – even before she had ALS. She has always had an incredible ability to accept life as it is without bitterness or rancor. It is probably her greatest gift and when I look back I realize that it is the reason I fell in love with her.

When we first met Dewie seemed an exceptionally happy person. Then as I learned about her life her happiness seemed odd to me. Dewie’s father was her mom’s second husband and Dewie’s parents separated just before she was born. Dewie’s mom was married five more times before she finally had a marriage that lasted. Dewie’s favorite stepfather lived in Mexico and Dewie spent a big part of her childhood and early adolescence there. But that marriage ended and she came back to Santa Monica where she graduated from high school. But while she was in Mexico, her older brother left to live with their natural father. Then her stepfather left for the States when there was a trial separation. Then Dewie’s mom put her in boarding school in Guadalajara and left to try to patch things up with her stepfather. So at the age of 14 Dewie was completely alone in Mexico. Everybody she loved and who loved her had left her all alone in the world.

But with all this upheaval in her life Dewie seemed genuinely happy and uncomplicated when I met her. It wasn’t that she didn’t get sad sometimes, but when her sadness had passed it left no trace. She loved her mom and her brother. She had reconnected with her dad and had a good relationship with him. She liked her stepfathers and kept in touch with them. Her step dad from Mexico was still her favorite. She had accepted things as they were and simply continued living without recrimination or regret. It wasn’t a philosophy of life for her. There was almost no effort in it for her. It’s just who she was and I had never known anyone like her.

Dewie’s easy acceptance of things has sometimes frustrated me over the years because it is so different from the way I naturally am. I’m inclined to resist things I don’t like even when resistance is futile. I don’t recommend that approach to life - it’s just what has always come naturally to me. So I would be frustrated that Dewie couldn’t (or wouldn’t, I imagined) join me in my ongoing project to mold life to my liking, or especially to join me in my inevitable frustrations and disappointments. In those times I simply forgot what attracted me to Dewie in the first place, and the wisdom of choosing her as my mate.

So Dewie got ALS and her gift for accepting life as it is has taken center stage. She seems so wise to me now and it seems I cannot do better than to follow her lead and try to finally learn this lesson about acceptance. Dewie has not once said, “Why me?” She has very seldom cursed her disease. She has her sad moments and she will mourn the loss of things she can no longer do, but those moments pass and she is happy again. She is happy to be with others and to interact. She is happy to love and be loved. And she is happy to talk even without her voice. And she is happy to be alive.

Wednesday, September 15, 2010

Tuesday, September 14, 2010

Dewie's Story Part 2

FROM DIAGNOSIS TO ACCEPTANCE

The clinic we are in is very good and provides lots of continuing help in living with ALS, but of course there is no cure. Our clinic in Dallas is part of the University of Texas medical school and is one of several similar ALS clinics around the country sponsored by the Muscular Dystrophy Association, which has an ALS division. They have been wonderful and I now know what Jerry Lewis has been raising so much money for all these years. We have also had a lot of help from the ALS Association of North Texas here in Dallas.

One of the things both organizations have is support groups that meet once a month. So when Dewie was first diagnosed we started going to the monthly meetings of both support groups. One benefit of going was to see how other patients and their families have managed. We met people with all forms of ALS and in all stages of progression of their disease. There were a few who came to the meetings who were in “advanced” stages and had lived that way for many years. It was good to get a picture of what living with ALS would be like. Everyone was very nice and we were encouraged.

When we first attended the meetings, though, we felt almost like we didn’t belong because Dewie’s only symptoms were in her hand. So while she walked and talked without any difficulty we met other people who had lost their ability to speak and who were taking all of their nutrition through a feeding tube or were in wheelchairs and breathing through tracheostomies with mechanical ventilators. We were encouraged that so many seemed to have found a way to live pretty well with their ALS. It also seemed like we had plenty of time to get ready for our eventual challenges.

When Dewie was diagnosed we were living in a three-story apartment. Our bedroom was up 52 steps from the street and we knew we needed to find a wheelchair-friendly place. After looking at what was available in “accessible” housing we decided to build a new home that would accommodate all of Dewie’s eventual needs as best as we could identify them. Our new home is finished now and we have been enjoying it for a little over a year.

But as I said, Dewie’s symptoms have progressed very fast. When she first was diagnosed, we both imagined that we would have more time than we have had before the wheelchair was required, or before the feeding tube was required, or before Dewie wouldn’t be able to talk anymore, or before she would be unable to breathe without a tracheostomy and a ventilator, or before I would not be able to lift her without a mechanical patient lift. We have met each of these challenges, one after another, since October 07 and even though we knew they were coming, we were surprised at how quickly they came.

My first thought when Dewie got her diagnosis was alternative medicine, nutrition, experimental treatment, etc. I was aware of the limitations of traditional medicine. Dewie and I have a daughter-in-law who has bone cancer. I had actually found an alternative treatment for her bone cancer in Germany that works even while she was told traditional therapies wouldn’t. It was and still is a miracle and I was determined to find another. I read a lot about the probability of environmental and nutritional causes of ALS and related treatments. I said to myself and to Dewie, “I will not let this happen! We will connect with other people who have found alternatives to traditional medicine so that the future that ALS has brought to all these other poor people we have met will not be your future.” In those early days in October and November of 07, I believed we would be able to restore Dewie’s good health. I think Dewie believed it – but mostly because I told her I believed it and she in turn believed me. At least she went along. A book I was reading suggested that in addition to good food and supplements and pure water and clean air, we needed to have Dewie’s (mercury) amalgam fillings replaced and we visited a dentist in Houston who proposed a plan to accomplish that. In those days it was easy to believe that Dewie’s ALS just wouldn’t be as bad as we had been told.

But every morning, Dewie and I would notice a new location of her muscle twitches. Even as we researched alternatives to traditional medicine, two things became clear. First, Dewie’s symptoms that started in just one hand were quickly showing up all over her body. Soon, both of her arms and both legs and her stomach and back were all showing symptoms.

Second, the absolute lack of anyone claiming to have had any actual success with any of the alternatives we were looking into began to become clear. I was unable to find anyone who claimed to have even slowed down this disease. No one actually turned us away but no one gave us any kind of explicit encouragement either. The dentist we talked to about removing Dewie’s silver fillings proposed an expensive treatment plan but was careful to steer clear of saying it might do her any good. We had also met one couple in the support groups who had gone to China to get stem cell implants that had some positive results but ultimately didn’t change the course of her ALS.

One day, it occurred to me that I was in denial about what was happening and that I was encouraging Dewie to join me in my denial. It seemed that I was encouraging her to embrace a false hope and that the eventual, inevitable loss of that hope would be a very hard fall. I could see a future where we would have spent ourselves without doing any good and where the significant challenges of living with this disease would come relentlessly anyway and would find us completely unprepared and demoralized. I fell silent. I was depressed. I had reached new conclusions about being able to avoid what was happening but I didn’t voice them for a day or so. I didn’t know how to tell Dewie I didn’t believe in a cure for her anymore.

Dewie is very intuitive. I didn’t have to voice my new conclusions to her for her to read them written in my mood. She too grew silent and one night as we were going to bed, she finally spoke it. “I guess I’m just going to let this thing take me,” she said quietly as she sat on the edge of the bed. “So she is thinking the same thing I am”, I thought to myself. She seemed resigned – and sad. It was a very sad moment.

It was also very necessary - because since then we have both reached a kind of acceptance about Dewie’s ALS – surrender, actually. A great burden has disappeared with our surrender and a whole new experience has opened up to us. As it happened, though, we didn’t arrive at acceptance all by our own devices. We had help.

Walk to Defeat ALS

On October 30th, there will be a walk to raise money for the ALS Association here in Dallas. I will be there and would like to invite anyone who would like to walk with me or donate to check out my Team web page.

There are two organizations that have provided so much help for me over these last few years and I want to help them both with their fundraising this year. The first is the ALS Association and their local "Walk to Defeat ALS" will take place in October. The other is the Muscular Dystrophy Association and they will have a similar event, a "Muscle Walk" next March here in Dallas. I can't say enough about how much I owe each of these organizations and I want to encourage you to join me in helping them continue their work.

Love,

Dewie

Tuesday, August 3, 2010

Dewie's Story Part 1

I am writing Dewie's story with ALS and will post each part as I finish it. For some of you this is old news but for some it may help to fill in where you might have questions.

-Pete

FROM FIRST SYMPTOMS TO DIAGNOSIS - ALS

There is so much to tell. In October, 2007 Dewie was diagnosed with ALS, and I’m not sure how much people know about the disease, but I didn’t know much myself before all of this happened except that it is sometimes called Lou Gehrig’s Disease. I was aware of a book called “Tuesdays with Morie” that was made into a movie with Jack Lemmon. At that time I hadn’t read the book or seen the movie. I guess I knew that ALS was considered to be fatal, but I don’t remember.

Basically, with ALS a person’s nerves that control their muscles just quit working. Specifically the disease is marked by the “death” of both “upper” and “lower” motor neurons because of some kind of dysfunction on the cellular level. Like many diseases, doctors really don’t know what causes it. Research has identified a hereditary factor and a genetic predisposition. Even though no one in Dewie’s family has ever had ALS, that doesn’t mean she doesn’t carry the genetic marker (she hasn’t been tested for it). I think there may be an environmental factor as well because there was a higher than normal incidence of ALS among veterans of the first Gulf War, for instance. Some people think that mercury like that found in dental amalgam can play a role and Dewie was a dental assistant for years and handled amalgam material as part of her job. She also has some silver fillings. I think that there is a connection to Statin drugs that are prescribed for lowering cholesterol because neurological side effects are mentioned on the label, and also because many people have reported getting ALS or related symptoms after taking Statins and finally because Dewie took a Statin for three years before she developed symptoms. But there is no “recognized” connection.

Anyway, what happens because of the loss of “motor neurons” is that you literally loose your muscles one by one as the disease progresses. Your mind is never affected. (It is sort of like the opposite of Alzheimer’s, which affects the mind but not the body.) So ALS takes your muscles away until you are completely paralyzed. Each patient’s disease starts differently and progresses differently. Dewie’s symptoms started in her left hand. The rate of progression varies from person to person: some slow - some fast, and it seems that for each individual, their specific rate of progression, whether slow or fast, doesn’t change. Dewie’s progression has been very fast. There are at least two forms of disease onset, limb and bulbar (referring to the bulbar nerve which controls the mouth, throat and tongue). Dewie’s ALS began with limb symptoms only (her left hand) but soon we noticed difficulty talking and swallowing, so she now has both kinds. Some patients start with bulbar symptoms and misdiagnosis is common, both because the disease is somewhat rare and because slurred speech makes people think, “stroke”. But in that, we were lucky because Dewie’s regular doctor quickly suspected the 24/7 “twitches” in her left hand might be ALS and he sent her to a neurologist and eventually to a clinic that specializes in ALS. The diagnosis is a difficult one for doctors to make even when ALS is suspected and the process is basically one of eliminating all other possible causes of the symptoms. So for Dewie, the “twitches” in her hand began in April of 2007 and she was diagnosed in late October.

Miscellaneous Musings

  • All my life I've been called accepting, adaptable and positive, what with my mom changing husbands and me getting step fathers over and over again. It's served me well in this chapter of my journey. I never say, "Why me?" Instead I say, "Why not me?" ...because it seems I have the perfect personality to get ALS. After a day or two of feeling sad with every loss, I end up accepting it. The one loss I do dread is losing the ability to communicate.
  • Once I said, "It chaps my butt when I can't share my wisdom." When my friend Cathy heard that, she recommended this blog.
  • You can choose happiness. You have that power.
  • Always give people a chance. They can surprise you.
  • Never say never. I still have a living will that says I don't want extra-ordinary medical interventions like a feeding tube and a ventilator. Now I have both and I'm glad I do!
  • And finally "The Life of the Unattended Itch". Since I can't swallow I sometimes drool and I depend on my caregivers to keep my chin dry but sometimes, especially at night when my caregivers are asleep, the saliva stays there for a while. It dries. It itches - a lot - and it causes a piercing pain. Because I can't move I've learned what happens next. The pain eventually goes away! It comforts me that I know this and can count on it. Something I never would have known when I was able-bodied.
Love, Dewie

How to Leave a Comment

More than one of you have emailed to say you don't know how to leave a comment on the blog. Obviously not everyone wants to publish their comments, but here's how in case you do.

1. Look at the end of each blog entry where it says,
6 COMMENTS.

2. Click on the 6 COMMENTS.

3. You can then read any comments that are already posted. Scroll to the bottom of the page.

4. Type your comment into the white box.

5. After typing your comment, click where its says,
Comment as: (Select Profile)

6. If you've never posted a comment before you can select Anonymous. (You can identify yourself in the body of your comment if you choose.) -or- You can select Name/URL. (You only have to type in a name - you can leave the URL box blank - then click on Continue.)

7. You can then select Post Comment and you're done. -or- You can select Preview if you want to preview or edit your comment. If you then see a Word Verification box, type the letters displayed in unusual font into the box and click on Post Comment and you're done.

Hoping this makes reading and posting comments easier,

-Pete

Tuesday, July 6, 2010

Dewie Stories

Dewie loves to laugh, so we watch a lot of comedy on TV. And she finds humor elsewhere...

Last year I was on a trip and called home from a layover. I got Sarah, who was very excited and told me there was a tornado warning! I could hear a siren in the background and Sarah asked me to call back after she and Mabel had gotten Dewie into the closet. So I hung up and worried for five minutes and called back. Sarah said everyone was OK. They were in the closet and she wanted a flashlight because the power had gone out. I told her where to find a flashlight and in a few seconds she started laughing. I asked what was going on and Sarah said, "Mom's laughing at us. When I turned on the flashlight, there she was just laughing. She thinks Mabel and I are funny with all our commotion."

So Dewie is not a worrier. She leaves that to the rest of us and she picks up our slack in the laughing department.

Dewie loves people. Then she gets tired. From her Mom, she inherited a penchant for brusque good-byes...

We were at the ALS Association support group meeting and it was over. People were lingering and visiting and the new director of the North Texas Chapter came over to say hello to us. She said she had seen us using the "alphabet board" and was intrigued by it. I was eager to show it off and so I picked it up and said we could demonstrate if Dewie wanted to say something, which she indicated that she did. So we spelled out Dewie's message, "L..e..t..s..G..o.", she said. "That's how it works.", I explained as we left the meeting.

Recently, Forrest and Feather were visiting and it was lunch time. Everyone was in the kitchen and I drove Dewie's wheelchair into the kitchen where she could be a part of the commotion. Lots of loud talking. Soon I noticed Mabel had taken Dewie back to the living room, so we all went in and joined her again, talking away. Dewie indicated she wanted to say something, so I picked up the board.

She spelled, "W..h..y..d..o..y..o..u..t..h..i..n..k..I..c..a..m..e..b..a..c..k..i..n..h..e..r..e?" Surprised that our conversation wasn't scintillating, we left her in peace.

I never know what to expect when I pick up the board.

-Pete

Not so Much!

Well, since it says here I'm doing well, I should post an update since a few weeks ago I felt a pain in my chest every time my ventilator gave me a breath. We called my doctor who told us to come get a chest x-ray, and it showed pneumonia! So I was in the hospital for a few days to get IV antibiotics and now I'm home again and doing much better, thank you. The pain went away within the first 24 hours and there was very little fever. I have finished my antibiotics and Pete and Maria and Mabel have been giving me extra breathing treatments to help my lungs heal and its all working. I go back to the doctor in a few days and hopefully he'll agree I am well again.

Meanwhile I have had recent visits from my good friend Feather and my beautiful sister Forrest and my favorite niece Loee. They all just made themselves at home here and became part of the daily routine with us, which I love. Forrest even brought her little dog Brenda who prefers to sit in my lap because I don't wiggle!

Thank you to everyone who has emailed and called and posted replies to my blog. I love hearing from you and I'm grateful to my friend Cathy for getting me to try blogging.

Love, Dewie

Friday, June 4, 2010

Doing Well

This post is from Pete to answer the first question most people ask, "How's Dewie". The simple answer is, "She's well." Medically, she is stable. Its been a little more than a year since Dewie got her ventilator and up until that time our lives were constantly changing as her ALS progressed. But in the last year things have really settled down and we have gotten used to our new lives.

There are many things for us to be thankful for but I'll mention three that seem important. First she has no pain. Many people with ALS have significant pain but not all. Second, we were lucky to quickly find two very special women who have become excellent caregivers for Dewie. Without them, things would be very different. And finally, Dewie's gift for happiness is the one thing that makes everything else possible. Her positive personality not only helps her continue to enjoy life but it rubs off on the rest of us. She's a joy to take care of.

Our biggest challenge is communication. Since she got her trach last year, Dewie can't talk so we use an "alphabet board" and we've gotten pretty good at it but we still would like to find a way for her to use a computer like Stephen Hawking. Dewie's friend Feather is working on an idea that might just allow that.

Anyway, that's an overview and I'm happy to report the good news. Thanks for reading. Whenever there is an update here, we plan to send out an email saying so. Dewie's greatest joy has always been the people in her life and that's what this blog is all about - allowing her to stay close to you.

-Pete

Monday, May 17, 2010

Hello Everyone!

Dear Friends and Family,

Ever since I was first diagnosed with ALS in October, 2007 I have received calls and emails and post cards and letters from all of you and I love them. At first I could respond by myself and was able to keep in touch with you and I so love staying in touch! But then as I lost the ability to communicate except with my eyes, I have lost touch with so many of you.

A while back my good friend Cathy Woodyard made a great suggestion. She said I should try starting a blog so I could post messages and photos and then you could read them at your convenience and reply where I could see it.

So here it is! Lets get started!