University of Washington Medical Center, Seattle
I thought it was April Fools Day, but it was real. My body had been telling me for days that things weren't right. Somehow your body knows when you are at high risk. I had been telling my care providers that things seemed to be going backwards. Without absolute confirmation they were in a "wait and see" mood. From 1:30am to 4:30am I developed a severe case of para-influenza III. Normally this is a 24-hour flu bug that your immune system can tolerate and recover within 24 hours. But without much of an immune system, it driggered a domino-effect of four major, distinct medical crises. Graft vs. Host Disease reimmerged in my upper and lower intestinal tract. This teamed up with my CMV, which also appeared in my blood-stream. Influenza developed into a lung infection, verging on pneumonia. Oxygen saturation levels dropped to the point of having to start 24-hour oxygen at the hospital. I was admitted once again to the UW Medical Center after a steady and constant decline physically, emotionally, and spiritually. I had three doctors reveal to me after the fact that things might have spiraled out of control and consequences might have been dire. It was at this time that I wrote the blog that I hope didn't offend people about not quoting scriptures to me. I was just trying to focus all of my energy on trying to stabilize. I would welcome anything the Lord put on your heart to share with me. I appreciate all of the concern and cards. I am at a point where I have the energy to read them and will try to respond as I am able.
We are getting legal counsel with my brother's estate which is taking a huge load off and allows me to concentrate fully on getting healthy and putting all my energy into my recovery. It is uncertain how long I will have to stay at the UW Med Center until my gut is stable and the brochial problems are cleared up. I need to be off of oxygen. We are making progress on a couple of fronts, but are still needing improvement in other areas. We appreciate your support and prayers through this time so we can come home as soon as possible. Yesterday was exactly three months from the transplant but we may have to stay beyond the 100 days obviously. Kriss is in Walla Walla taking care of things and Hanna is here helping do what I need to have done. We are learning a lot about patience and perseverance. God is providing everything we need right now through all of you and a lot of prayers and support. Thank you so much for all the work on the house and many many things people are doing to make a recovery possible.
If I can't be in Walla Walla for Easter, I wil communicate a special Easter message to you one way or the other. To quote a famous Easter message from Anothy Campolo, "It may be Friday, but Sunday's a-comin'!" Thank you in advance for all your love and care.
I look forward to hearing from you. Robin
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
Saturday, April 9, 2011
ONE STEP FORWARD AND TWO STEPS BACK
We are learning more and more about our bodies and the magnificent and delicate way God made us. Like – oxygen saturation – and how essential appropriate levels are to keep us going. This is Kriss writing as Robin is resting in a hospital bed at the University of Washington Medical Center as of Friday evening around 10 pm.
It has been a very eventful week. Last Friday late night through early Saturday morning Robin was hit very hard with vomiting and diarrhea. We went to the Cancer Center Triage for weekend assessment on Saturday mid-morning. Upon consulting with our primary doctor Robin received his first of three IV Prednisone infusions over the next three days. Then, as life would have it, I had my turn of violent GI issues on Sunday night. Monday Robin had to drive himself to the Cancer Center or cancel his appointments, which was not really an option. They took a nasal culture, which showed he had Para-influenza 3, but due to Robin’s compromised immune system he did not recover as I did. He has been suffering from an irritating cough and post-nasal drip for over three weeks. He has had a weekly chest x-ray to determine what is precipitating the cough, showing nothing conclusive. So, Robin is back on Prednisone. After daily blood draws he had more drug changes this week than ever. Then on Thursday, along with various other appointments, they did a chest CT; and on Friday he had an endoscopy & sigmoidoscopy. During and after these procedures was when his low oxygen absorption levels became apparent. One more big drug change came about, and this was rather overwhelming. He was taken off the twice daily home infusions of Ganciclovir and scheduled to come into the Cancer Center for twice daily infusions of Foscarnet with 2 hours of hydration infusion at home prior to the 8am dose and 4 hours of IV hydration before the 8pm dose. I was really wondering how we were going to get it all done, along with all of his meds at six different times a day (some with food, some on an empty stomach) and 4 blood sugar tests and insulin. We also had numerous appointments to keep. At this point a 12 hour nursing shift sounded pretty good. I could use a good nights sleep without worrying I was going to forget something Robin needed. Robin was getting so tired I had to wake him up to go to the next appt. or take the next meds. And walking to the car and through the Cancer Center really wore him out. When we went in for his first infusion of Foscarnet on Friday at 5:30pm the nurse was concerned about his shortness of breath and, of course, the oxygen levels. She didn’t want to start the drug until the PA on duty saw him in person. It took over an hour for her to get to us, but she was great. She was able to track down our primary Dr. and he said two words: Get going! Since he was on oxygen and the drug infusion he was transferred to the hospital by ambulance. It was a relief to both of us to know he was getting the attention he needs along with the oxygen. Now we found out that the chest CT revealed some bi-lateral infiltration of his lungs. They took a sputum culture and found evidence of a bacterial infection so he is on a three day high dose antibiotic.
So, for the past two weeks Robin has been donning a disposable respiratory mask at the Cancer Center. Now it is my turn. Anyone entering his room at the hospital must put on a gown, gloves and mask, and keep them on the entire time there. At least now Robin can get the rest he needs and his meds and treatments without having to go out in the weather and walk the halls of the SCCA. This is a bit of a set-back and we will surely be here in Seattle past our 100 day mark of April 19, but we feel confident in the medical care and mostly in God’s provision. Thank you all for your continued love and support throughout this medical adventure.
It has been a very eventful week. Last Friday late night through early Saturday morning Robin was hit very hard with vomiting and diarrhea. We went to the Cancer Center Triage for weekend assessment on Saturday mid-morning. Upon consulting with our primary doctor Robin received his first of three IV Prednisone infusions over the next three days. Then, as life would have it, I had my turn of violent GI issues on Sunday night. Monday Robin had to drive himself to the Cancer Center or cancel his appointments, which was not really an option. They took a nasal culture, which showed he had Para-influenza 3, but due to Robin’s compromised immune system he did not recover as I did. He has been suffering from an irritating cough and post-nasal drip for over three weeks. He has had a weekly chest x-ray to determine what is precipitating the cough, showing nothing conclusive. So, Robin is back on Prednisone. After daily blood draws he had more drug changes this week than ever. Then on Thursday, along with various other appointments, they did a chest CT; and on Friday he had an endoscopy & sigmoidoscopy. During and after these procedures was when his low oxygen absorption levels became apparent. One more big drug change came about, and this was rather overwhelming. He was taken off the twice daily home infusions of Ganciclovir and scheduled to come into the Cancer Center for twice daily infusions of Foscarnet with 2 hours of hydration infusion at home prior to the 8am dose and 4 hours of IV hydration before the 8pm dose. I was really wondering how we were going to get it all done, along with all of his meds at six different times a day (some with food, some on an empty stomach) and 4 blood sugar tests and insulin. We also had numerous appointments to keep. At this point a 12 hour nursing shift sounded pretty good. I could use a good nights sleep without worrying I was going to forget something Robin needed. Robin was getting so tired I had to wake him up to go to the next appt. or take the next meds. And walking to the car and through the Cancer Center really wore him out. When we went in for his first infusion of Foscarnet on Friday at 5:30pm the nurse was concerned about his shortness of breath and, of course, the oxygen levels. She didn’t want to start the drug until the PA on duty saw him in person. It took over an hour for her to get to us, but she was great. She was able to track down our primary Dr. and he said two words: Get going! Since he was on oxygen and the drug infusion he was transferred to the hospital by ambulance. It was a relief to both of us to know he was getting the attention he needs along with the oxygen. Now we found out that the chest CT revealed some bi-lateral infiltration of his lungs. They took a sputum culture and found evidence of a bacterial infection so he is on a three day high dose antibiotic.
So, for the past two weeks Robin has been donning a disposable respiratory mask at the Cancer Center. Now it is my turn. Anyone entering his room at the hospital must put on a gown, gloves and mask, and keep them on the entire time there. At least now Robin can get the rest he needs and his meds and treatments without having to go out in the weather and walk the halls of the SCCA. This is a bit of a set-back and we will surely be here in Seattle past our 100 day mark of April 19, but we feel confident in the medical care and mostly in God’s provision. Thank you all for your continued love and support throughout this medical adventure.
Friday, April 1, 2011
TRANSPLANT SHUTES AND LADDERS!
SEATTLE,WA,4/1/2011 CLOUDY,RAIN,45DEGREES,
When our children were young one of their favorite games was SHUTES AND LADDERS. It was a simple board game where everyone started at the bottom of the board and rolled a die and moved that number of spaces and the winner got to the top of the board first. However, along the way were spaces with ladders attached that you climbed one or two levels as a bonus, but there were also shutes or slide spaces which caused you to go backwards one or two levels. Looking back, it was a pretty valuable game in that it taught some fairly sophisticated life lessons. Don't get too cocky when you are winning, because you could end up behind on just your next turn. Don't get too discouraged if you are behind everyone else, because ladders exist and you could vault over the top of everyone else and end up winning. Win and lose as graciously as possible. Enjoy the time with the people you play with, especially if your parents play with you.
This week has been my own version of Stem Cell Transplant SHUTES AND LADDERS. We have landed on some ladder spaces and vaulted forward. The final results of the bone marrow biopsy were as good as we could have possibly hoped for. Hanna's stem cells not only make up 100% of my bone marrow stem cells, but they have eliminated all the abnormal chromosomal Myleo-Dysplastic cells. For now I am free of that pre-leukemic condition. But we have landed on several chutes and taken a free-fall backwards, as well. My (CMV) Cytomegalovirus has returned. It originally teamed with Graft vs Host Disease to land me in the U of W Medical Center two days after trasplant. I spent 15 days battling a severe intestinal tract disruption, but this time it is showing up in my blood stream. Treatment consists of putting me back on IV infusions twice a day of Gansciclovir. In addition to CMV reimergence, I have a Herpes Viral outbreak in the roof of my mouth that has grown from the size of a pencil eraser to a half-dollar in just a few days. The meds I am taking for that have stopped its growth, but drinking and eating are very painful. It's like you were too greedy and took a big bite of hot pizza and burned the roof of your mouth. We all know what that feels like and how long it takes to heal. I'm making progress on the blood sugar front and require less insulin every week. All of these problems are typical of post Prednisone treatment and they anticipate them during the last three weeks prior to discharge. I had hoped that by this time, I would be having clearer sailing and an increase in energy and vitality. Unfortunately, the opposite is true and I have to force myself to take walks and eat much of anything. We see our PA again after a blood draw on Monday, so she can keep a close eye on these new developments. I hope and pray that we can get all of these new complications under control before our scheduled discharge date of April 19th. We would covet your prayers in that regard.
I suspect that there are other outside sources of stress that are contributing to my medical free-fall. Watching my brother Tom slowly lose his battle for life for six weeks in Harborview's Neuro-Intensive Care Unit is impacting me in some strange ways. Having made the decision to remove him from all life support and walking with him through the Valley of the Shadow of Death for 5 hours, I am feeling some deep feelings of survivor guilt. It is a new experience for me to have to cope with the question of why he died and not me. It is a common struggle for survivors of war and massive loss of life in accidents. Having daily reminders of his legal and financial affairs keeps that grief wound open and bleeding. It is a new path I never anticipated taking and I don't know how God is going to bring healing to this wound. My body is telling me that I am going downhill at this time. It is disappointing not to have each day get better and better. I don't know how far this shute I'm on will descend, but wherever we land, we will regroup and with God's help and all your prayers, we will persevere. Sois misericordieux envers moi, Seigneur! Je suis epuise et surmonte par mes douleurs. Ceux qui m'entourent ne savent comment me consoler. Toi and toi seule connaisses les fardeaux qui m'ecrasent. La vie deroule peniblement et les nuits se moquent de moi. Revele-toi comme l'aube, et delivre-moi par ta main toute puissante! Some emotions can only be expressed in a language with more subtle emotional depth. (Translation) Be merciful to me, O Lord! I am exhausted and overcome by my sufferings. Those who surround me don't know how to console me. You and you alone know the burdens that threaten to crush me. Life rolls by painfully and nights mock me. Reveal yourself like the dawn, and deliver me by your all powerful hand. Some emotions seem easier to express in another language that lends itself to more subtle emotional nuances. My translation cannot truly reveal those nuances, but it will give you a good idea of my own version of a Psalm of David crying out to God for God's intervention in his life. It is the same kind of desperation that led Jesus to cry out, "My God, My God, why have you forsaken me?" Maybe we all have to experience some moments of deep sense of isolation to recognize the miracle of God's presence that we sometimes take for granted. Keep us in your prayers, we are approaching a critical period in this transplant process and it feels like life itself is hanging in the balance. Robin
When our children were young one of their favorite games was SHUTES AND LADDERS. It was a simple board game where everyone started at the bottom of the board and rolled a die and moved that number of spaces and the winner got to the top of the board first. However, along the way were spaces with ladders attached that you climbed one or two levels as a bonus, but there were also shutes or slide spaces which caused you to go backwards one or two levels. Looking back, it was a pretty valuable game in that it taught some fairly sophisticated life lessons. Don't get too cocky when you are winning, because you could end up behind on just your next turn. Don't get too discouraged if you are behind everyone else, because ladders exist and you could vault over the top of everyone else and end up winning. Win and lose as graciously as possible. Enjoy the time with the people you play with, especially if your parents play with you.
This week has been my own version of Stem Cell Transplant SHUTES AND LADDERS. We have landed on some ladder spaces and vaulted forward. The final results of the bone marrow biopsy were as good as we could have possibly hoped for. Hanna's stem cells not only make up 100% of my bone marrow stem cells, but they have eliminated all the abnormal chromosomal Myleo-Dysplastic cells. For now I am free of that pre-leukemic condition. But we have landed on several chutes and taken a free-fall backwards, as well. My (CMV) Cytomegalovirus has returned. It originally teamed with Graft vs Host Disease to land me in the U of W Medical Center two days after trasplant. I spent 15 days battling a severe intestinal tract disruption, but this time it is showing up in my blood stream. Treatment consists of putting me back on IV infusions twice a day of Gansciclovir. In addition to CMV reimergence, I have a Herpes Viral outbreak in the roof of my mouth that has grown from the size of a pencil eraser to a half-dollar in just a few days. The meds I am taking for that have stopped its growth, but drinking and eating are very painful. It's like you were too greedy and took a big bite of hot pizza and burned the roof of your mouth. We all know what that feels like and how long it takes to heal. I'm making progress on the blood sugar front and require less insulin every week. All of these problems are typical of post Prednisone treatment and they anticipate them during the last three weeks prior to discharge. I had hoped that by this time, I would be having clearer sailing and an increase in energy and vitality. Unfortunately, the opposite is true and I have to force myself to take walks and eat much of anything. We see our PA again after a blood draw on Monday, so she can keep a close eye on these new developments. I hope and pray that we can get all of these new complications under control before our scheduled discharge date of April 19th. We would covet your prayers in that regard.
I suspect that there are other outside sources of stress that are contributing to my medical free-fall. Watching my brother Tom slowly lose his battle for life for six weeks in Harborview's Neuro-Intensive Care Unit is impacting me in some strange ways. Having made the decision to remove him from all life support and walking with him through the Valley of the Shadow of Death for 5 hours, I am feeling some deep feelings of survivor guilt. It is a new experience for me to have to cope with the question of why he died and not me. It is a common struggle for survivors of war and massive loss of life in accidents. Having daily reminders of his legal and financial affairs keeps that grief wound open and bleeding. It is a new path I never anticipated taking and I don't know how God is going to bring healing to this wound. My body is telling me that I am going downhill at this time. It is disappointing not to have each day get better and better. I don't know how far this shute I'm on will descend, but wherever we land, we will regroup and with God's help and all your prayers, we will persevere. Sois misericordieux envers moi, Seigneur! Je suis epuise et surmonte par mes douleurs. Ceux qui m'entourent ne savent comment me consoler. Toi and toi seule connaisses les fardeaux qui m'ecrasent. La vie deroule peniblement et les nuits se moquent de moi. Revele-toi comme l'aube, et delivre-moi par ta main toute puissante! Some emotions can only be expressed in a language with more subtle emotional depth. (Translation) Be merciful to me, O Lord! I am exhausted and overcome by my sufferings. Those who surround me don't know how to console me. You and you alone know the burdens that threaten to crush me. Life rolls by painfully and nights mock me. Reveal yourself like the dawn, and deliver me by your all powerful hand. Some emotions seem easier to express in another language that lends itself to more subtle emotional nuances. My translation cannot truly reveal those nuances, but it will give you a good idea of my own version of a Psalm of David crying out to God for God's intervention in his life. It is the same kind of desperation that led Jesus to cry out, "My God, My God, why have you forsaken me?" Maybe we all have to experience some moments of deep sense of isolation to recognize the miracle of God's presence that we sometimes take for granted. Keep us in your prayers, we are approaching a critical period in this transplant process and it feels like life itself is hanging in the balance. Robin
Friday, March 25, 2011
I'M PREDNISONE FREE!
Seattle, WA, sunny but cool, rain later.
It's not as good as calling Dave Ramsey and shouting: "We're Debt Free", which we hope to do some day. But it is a major step in my transplant process that we are "surthriving". It seems I learn something new each week about drugs and their interactions with various parts of your body, for better or worse. Prednisone is a life-saving tool in the Drs. Medical Arsenal, but its benefits come with a fairly high price tag. I developed a severe case of Graft vs Host Disease 2 days after transplant and was hospitalized for 15 days at the U of W Medical Center. It was focused on my intestinal tract and to make matters worse, I brought with me a latent intestinal disease called CMV. Many people have CMV and their immune system just keeps it in check. The combination of the two diseases was more intense than I realized at the time, but God is faithful and we weathered that storm.
Prednisone and a host of other medications turned the tide on the Graft vs Host Disease, but I am just finding out some of the costs of that battle. As I have mentioned before, water retention in my lower extremities forced us to resort to lasix, which we have now been able to stop. Elevated blood sugar meant we need insulin shots three times a day. Muscle and bone loss, and hopefully some fat, have led to weight loss now just over 40 lbs. But the latest knowledge we acquired yesterday during clinicals with our Medical Team is that Prednisone puts your adrenal glands to sleep. It essentially is powerful enough to convince your adrenal glands that there is enough adrenalin already in your system so they can take an extended vacation. I was wondering why I wasn't getting back more energy and now I know. I've got to wake up and recall those AWOL Adrenal glands to start doing their job. If they don't do it spontaneously, we have MP drugs that will roust them out of their slumber and get them back on active duty. When Kriss and I do our daily walk, it almost drives her crazy how slow I walk. She is naturally a fast walker with much longer legs than I, but she is a good sport about it. We look like an old couple holding hands just barely creeping up and down the sidewalk. That's not all necessarily bad. Maybe all of our relationships would benefit from some slow walking and hand holding from time to time. I am committed to doing more exercise, even if I don't feel like it. God will provide both the desire and the strength to break through this barrier. The preliminary report on my Bone Marrow Biopsy is very good. Hanna's stem cells have taken over 100% of my bone marrow identity. We won't find out until next week the extent of her stem cells impact on any Chromosomal abnormalities.We pray that there is no sign of Myleo-Displastic-Syndrome or any other factor which would complicate my recovery. Another week to wait and pray in faith.
There is, of course, a spiritual lesson I'm learning from my journey with Prednisone and Friends. Intentional, repeated and unrepentant sin acts like Prednisone in putting our moral conscious to sleep. Once that inner sense of right and wrong is somnolent, we are vulnerable to ever increasing depravity and indifference to truth and Godly living. It functions in our penal and criminal justice system as people systematically destroy their sense of any guilt, remorse or shame for their crimes. It also functions in the church as evidenced by the decades long clergy abuse scandals that have literally bankrupted various parishes and churches. We don't probably preach or think much about real repentance in our daily lives. We know God loves and forgives us unconditionally, but there is a critical piece of spiritual life that includes confession, repentance and restoration that keeps the biblically inspired conscious alive and well. We all know that it is the Holy Spirit who convicts us of sin. But we have an amazing ability to tune out those warnings and keep whistling in the dark, hoping no one will notice our hypocrisy and moral failures. What do we do?
In Romans 7:21-25, the Apostle Paul honestly acknowledged his battle with his hypocrisy: "So I find this law at work: When I want to do good, evil is right there with me. For in my inner being I delight in God's law; but I see another law at work in the members of my body, waging war against the law of my mind and making me a prisoner of the law of sin at work within my members. What a wretched man I am! Who will rescue me from this body of death? Thanks be to God--through Jesus Christ our Lord!....Therefore, there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus, because through Christ Jesus the law of the Spirit of life set me free from the law of sin and death." In Christ alone is the power to forgive and make all things new. But the starting point is a simple word "repent", "metanoia" in the NT Greek. Stop where you are right now and do an about face. Stop going the direction that is leading your life over the cliff and turn around and go the opposite direction. You will find, by faith, Jesus waiting there with a special look and embrace, asking:" What took you so long?" We know the Way to the Father, we just need to get on board that train to heaven.
Somewhere on Tecumseh Road near White Swan, WA Summer of 1975
We returned from Canada and did what we always did, go to work. I worked on the family farm and Kriss and I restored a "house" that had deteriorated into a barn for domesticated animals. One entire side was open for cows, horses, skunks, mice and all creatures great and small to find shelter. It took most of the summer to remodel and make it habitable for us and a newborn child due to arrive in September. Over the summer we wrestled with what God had in store for us in the present and the future. My father-in-law offered me a chance to make a career of farming and ranching with him, but we both knew that that was not a viable long-term option. I was contacted by a former Professor at Yakima Valley Community College who was retiring and he wanted to know if I would be interested in applying for the French Professor Position that was coming vacant that Fall. We prayed about it and I applied and was hired to teach two sections of French each Quarter. We continued to work on the Ranch and on September 14th, 1975, Hanna Kathleen Peterson was born in Toppenish, WA. It was a hard delivery on me. Kriss had back labor pains and I almost wore myself out giving her back massages. Before all the females reading this blog rise up in united outrage at my self-centeredness, I have to confess that I had nothing of the hard work Kriss endured with amazing courage and determination. Minutes after her delivery, she was nursing like she had done it all her life. There is no greater miracle than childbirth and God's gift of instinct and bonding.
Two weeks later, I began my College Teaching Career at YVC with a special twist. Kriss enrolled in my French Class and brought Hanna to class with her. When she got fussy, I would simply take her in my arms as I lectured and strolled around the room which seemed to pacify her. I would suspect that that was the first and probably the last time a Professor had a baby in class. Maybe that is why Hanna has such a good French accent and excels in that language. Between working on the Ranch, teaching French in Yakima and learning how to be parents, our plate was full of God's blessings. The little "Blue House" was a perfect place to settle into parenthood, but we knew God would soon be knocking on the door of our hearts with a vision and vocation for our lives. We resisted the temptation to settle for a comfortable life surrounded by family and friends and knew that God would one day call us to "deny ourselves, take up his cross, and follow him." We just didn't know when or where. Robin
It's not as good as calling Dave Ramsey and shouting: "We're Debt Free", which we hope to do some day. But it is a major step in my transplant process that we are "surthriving". It seems I learn something new each week about drugs and their interactions with various parts of your body, for better or worse. Prednisone is a life-saving tool in the Drs. Medical Arsenal, but its benefits come with a fairly high price tag. I developed a severe case of Graft vs Host Disease 2 days after transplant and was hospitalized for 15 days at the U of W Medical Center. It was focused on my intestinal tract and to make matters worse, I brought with me a latent intestinal disease called CMV. Many people have CMV and their immune system just keeps it in check. The combination of the two diseases was more intense than I realized at the time, but God is faithful and we weathered that storm.
Prednisone and a host of other medications turned the tide on the Graft vs Host Disease, but I am just finding out some of the costs of that battle. As I have mentioned before, water retention in my lower extremities forced us to resort to lasix, which we have now been able to stop. Elevated blood sugar meant we need insulin shots three times a day. Muscle and bone loss, and hopefully some fat, have led to weight loss now just over 40 lbs. But the latest knowledge we acquired yesterday during clinicals with our Medical Team is that Prednisone puts your adrenal glands to sleep. It essentially is powerful enough to convince your adrenal glands that there is enough adrenalin already in your system so they can take an extended vacation. I was wondering why I wasn't getting back more energy and now I know. I've got to wake up and recall those AWOL Adrenal glands to start doing their job. If they don't do it spontaneously, we have MP drugs that will roust them out of their slumber and get them back on active duty. When Kriss and I do our daily walk, it almost drives her crazy how slow I walk. She is naturally a fast walker with much longer legs than I, but she is a good sport about it. We look like an old couple holding hands just barely creeping up and down the sidewalk. That's not all necessarily bad. Maybe all of our relationships would benefit from some slow walking and hand holding from time to time. I am committed to doing more exercise, even if I don't feel like it. God will provide both the desire and the strength to break through this barrier. The preliminary report on my Bone Marrow Biopsy is very good. Hanna's stem cells have taken over 100% of my bone marrow identity. We won't find out until next week the extent of her stem cells impact on any Chromosomal abnormalities.We pray that there is no sign of Myleo-Displastic-Syndrome or any other factor which would complicate my recovery. Another week to wait and pray in faith.
There is, of course, a spiritual lesson I'm learning from my journey with Prednisone and Friends. Intentional, repeated and unrepentant sin acts like Prednisone in putting our moral conscious to sleep. Once that inner sense of right and wrong is somnolent, we are vulnerable to ever increasing depravity and indifference to truth and Godly living. It functions in our penal and criminal justice system as people systematically destroy their sense of any guilt, remorse or shame for their crimes. It also functions in the church as evidenced by the decades long clergy abuse scandals that have literally bankrupted various parishes and churches. We don't probably preach or think much about real repentance in our daily lives. We know God loves and forgives us unconditionally, but there is a critical piece of spiritual life that includes confession, repentance and restoration that keeps the biblically inspired conscious alive and well. We all know that it is the Holy Spirit who convicts us of sin. But we have an amazing ability to tune out those warnings and keep whistling in the dark, hoping no one will notice our hypocrisy and moral failures. What do we do?
In Romans 7:21-25, the Apostle Paul honestly acknowledged his battle with his hypocrisy: "So I find this law at work: When I want to do good, evil is right there with me. For in my inner being I delight in God's law; but I see another law at work in the members of my body, waging war against the law of my mind and making me a prisoner of the law of sin at work within my members. What a wretched man I am! Who will rescue me from this body of death? Thanks be to God--through Jesus Christ our Lord!....Therefore, there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus, because through Christ Jesus the law of the Spirit of life set me free from the law of sin and death." In Christ alone is the power to forgive and make all things new. But the starting point is a simple word "repent", "metanoia" in the NT Greek. Stop where you are right now and do an about face. Stop going the direction that is leading your life over the cliff and turn around and go the opposite direction. You will find, by faith, Jesus waiting there with a special look and embrace, asking:" What took you so long?" We know the Way to the Father, we just need to get on board that train to heaven.
Somewhere on Tecumseh Road near White Swan, WA Summer of 1975
We returned from Canada and did what we always did, go to work. I worked on the family farm and Kriss and I restored a "house" that had deteriorated into a barn for domesticated animals. One entire side was open for cows, horses, skunks, mice and all creatures great and small to find shelter. It took most of the summer to remodel and make it habitable for us and a newborn child due to arrive in September. Over the summer we wrestled with what God had in store for us in the present and the future. My father-in-law offered me a chance to make a career of farming and ranching with him, but we both knew that that was not a viable long-term option. I was contacted by a former Professor at Yakima Valley Community College who was retiring and he wanted to know if I would be interested in applying for the French Professor Position that was coming vacant that Fall. We prayed about it and I applied and was hired to teach two sections of French each Quarter. We continued to work on the Ranch and on September 14th, 1975, Hanna Kathleen Peterson was born in Toppenish, WA. It was a hard delivery on me. Kriss had back labor pains and I almost wore myself out giving her back massages. Before all the females reading this blog rise up in united outrage at my self-centeredness, I have to confess that I had nothing of the hard work Kriss endured with amazing courage and determination. Minutes after her delivery, she was nursing like she had done it all her life. There is no greater miracle than childbirth and God's gift of instinct and bonding.
Two weeks later, I began my College Teaching Career at YVC with a special twist. Kriss enrolled in my French Class and brought Hanna to class with her. When she got fussy, I would simply take her in my arms as I lectured and strolled around the room which seemed to pacify her. I would suspect that that was the first and probably the last time a Professor had a baby in class. Maybe that is why Hanna has such a good French accent and excels in that language. Between working on the Ranch, teaching French in Yakima and learning how to be parents, our plate was full of God's blessings. The little "Blue House" was a perfect place to settle into parenthood, but we knew God would soon be knocking on the door of our hearts with a vision and vocation for our lives. We resisted the temptation to settle for a comfortable life surrounded by family and friends and knew that God would one day call us to "deny ourselves, take up his cross, and follow him." We just didn't know when or where. Robin
Sunday, March 20, 2011
OUT OF THE MIRY CLAY!
Seattle, WA Beautiful Sunny Day, cool breeze 45 degrees.
In numerous areas of my life, it feels like I'm stuck in the mud. We are in a critical phase of my stem cell transplant where the Medical Team is preparing for the final stages prior to discharge. I have to transition from IV infusions for hydration and medications to totally oral medications. I will have my last Prednisone pill on the 22nd of March and hopefully, along with it, the alleviation of lots of side effects. The Graft vs Host Disease the Prednisone has held in check keeps peeping its head up to remind me that it is still lurking around like a mouse trying to find a warm home before winter. I have an eruption of skin damage around my Hickman Port. I have four skin fungal sites that we are treating. I am taking pills to reduce the water retention in my lower legs. I test blood sugar levels 4 times a day and take insulin three times a day. I still have an IV infusion here at home a couple hours a day and the list goes on and on. My new attending Physician wants me to have another bone marrow biopsy on Tuesday. His speciality is Myleo Displastic Syndrome, which I had when I first came here, and he wants hard evidence that it is no longer there. Hanna's stem cells should have destroyed and replaced all of my diseased stem cells, but he wants to know for certain. It will be one of the milestones we need to pass to be discharged in the best possible condition. It is a painful and stressful procedure that no one looks forward to having. The skill of the Dr. doing the biopsy makes all the difference in the world. Please pray for a talented and God inspired technician. I continue to lose weight, in spite of eating a diet that would normally put pounds on your body. I need to avoid sugar and related products, so that must contribute significantly. I have lost 40 lbs since my Transplant and that should level off once I'm off the Prednisone. Hopefully, I won't just gain it all back again, I don't believe that I will. I am weak as a kitten after a few hours of activity, but I keep exercising to maintain muscle strength. In your prayers this week, pray specifically that the Myleo Displastic Syndrome is completely gone and that I can begin to regain some physical strength and stamina.
The emotional and physical impact of my brother Tom's death and dying journey is both inspirational and exhausting. We finally found his medical directives from his house in Wapato. By the grace of God, we followed them exactly as he had directed. I was named to be his Medical Representative and have final say in the length and extent of treatment. It was better that we didn't have that written directive earlier, because it worked out much better for our family to come to a unanimous consensus when decision time arrived. I would not have done much differently than we did, only probably a little sooner. It is a sobering responsibility when someone else gives into your hands the authority to artificially sustain life, or allow nature to take its course. I will take a copy of his Directive to the Harborview Social Worker to put in Tom's permanent file. It will be available to his Medical Team and give them some comfort knowing they ultimately did what he would have wanted them to do. We are in the process of finalizing the Celebration of Tom's Life in Wapato on Memorial Day Weekend. It will include a formal church service, Military Honors, and a community dinner at the American Legion on Saturday, May 28. Most of that is already scheduled and Hanna and I will share in officiating the service at the church. Like many of you, I find myself opening my cell phone and instinctively looking up Tom's number because I want to talk to him about something. Habits die harder than people.
Without the love, support, prayers, cards and compassion of all of you and untold others, we would not only be in the miry clay, but in the quicksand of despair. God is using all of you to hold us together and we will slowly emerge from the depths, but not too quickly. There are lessons to be learned in the pits and caves of life. If we fail to listen to that still small voice of God when everything seems at its worst, we may miss an Elijah like moment when God spoke to him personally in a gentle whisper. God assured him that he was not alone, that there were 7000 other faithful followers of the True God, and here are your marching orders to go forth with your life. I Kings 19. I received an inspired e-mail from a dear friend who knows both my heart and situation the other day. His word to me was that of the vineyard. He has a vision of God doing a significant pruning of my life (vine). Having pruned fruit trees and grapes since high school, I get it.Only those vines that are pruned severely and wisely will produce excellent fruit. God knows what His purposes are in our lives and I am encouraged to anticipate what new and better spiritual fruit will come forth from all this.We will "surthrive" by the Grace of God and together bring glory and praise to God's Name. Robin
VANCOUVER, BRITISH COLUMBIA, CANADA Fall 1974
We worked on the family farm again over the Summer of 1974. We earned enough money to go back to Regent College for my second year of Theological Education at Regent College and receive a Master's in Christian Studies. Kriss had passed her State Board Exams and was licensed as a LPN. However, she didn't have a work visa from the Canadian Government, so she couldn't work as a LPN. She did find an under the table job as a Nanny for a Neuro-Surgeon and his wife, caring for their two children. They were a wonderful christian couple who chose to remain in Canada and provide medical care in their system in lieu of accepting offer after offer from American Medical Centers which would have paid him 5-10 times as much income. You had to admire their devotion to their country and the care of their fellow countrymen. We lived in a basement apartment in the middle of Vancouver, which meant that I still had to commute, but now only 20 minutes to school. I had mastered the vocabulary and methodology of theological studies and did well. To graduate you had to produce a Master's Thesis of original research on a topic approved by your Advisor. I decided to research the Biblical basis of the Equality of Men and Women in Christian Marriage. It was a daunting, yet enlightening process to dig beneath the superficial culturally based assumptions of both the 1st and 20th centuries. I had learned to multi-task and so I used major chapters of my Thesis for the Major Papers of individual classes to great success and even approval of my professors. We developed a rather strange lifestyle. Kriss would get up around 5 am and manually type what I had written out by hand, then at 7am go play Mary Poppins with her kids. I would get up around noon and begin to do research on my Thesis. I had told my Professors that they wouldn't see much of me, but I would submit all my work on time and I would check in with them on a regular basis. Somehow they accepted my offer and knew that I was deeply involved in original research and they wanted to support me in any way that they could. I would study until 4 pm when Kriss got home, we would spend a couple hours together fixing supper and visiting a while. By 8 pm I was back on the clock doing research and occasionally listening to the Vancouver Cannucks Hockey Game in the background and Kriss would finish typing for the day. I would study until 4am. It might sound like a really crazy and unbalanced lifestyle, but it worked so well and so efficiently, that I finished all the requirements for my normal classes and my Thesis three weeks before school was over. We actually took 10 days off and went back to the family farm for some R&R.
Returning to Vancouver, we went through Graduation and looked forward to what God had in store for us in the next chapter of our lives which would include a new born baby that coming September. Now we had the responsibility of parenthood to consider in making decisions concerning our future. Hanna was, is and will always be a precious gift to us, as are all our children. Being given the stewardship of four human lives is probably the most daunting responsibility and privilege any of us is ever given in this life. They are God's children first and always. We do not possess them, nor they us. Just because you have a piano in your home doesn't make you a pianist. Just because you have a biological child doesn't automatically turn you into a competent parent. We prayerfully and fearfully welcomed each child as God's gift and pray that one day we will have proved ourselves worthy of those gifts. Praise be to God for being the Heavenly Parent to our children, when we fell short and were unworthy. One final event occurred just before finishing up at Regent College that would remain with me forever. I had a good friend who was amazingly talented, intelligent, charming, and potentially successful in Theological Studies. He applied and was accepted into a Ph.D. program at one of the most prestigious Theological Schools in England. We had been working across the aisle doing research one evening when he asked:"Want a break from the monotony?" I asked him what he meant and he told me to come over to his desk and look at something that helped him get his mind off of the tedium of research. He threw out a pornographic magazine, which from the cover, you couldn't fail to imagine what was inside. I looked at him and said: "You've got to be kidding, no thanks!" He took some offense at my rejection of his stress-alleviating distraction and we let it pass. He went to England, got his Ph D. in New Testament Studies, returned to a Theological Institution in Canada as a Professor and Administrator, fell in "love" with an employee of that Institution, abandoned his wife and sons, created a scandal within the Institution that caused great harm. I never forgot that moment of temptation and decision when God pulled me out of the miry clay of potential pornographic titillation and addiction. I don't think my friend wanted out of the mud. Moral choices seem so innocent and inconsequential in the moment of time. In reality, one choice in a vulnerable moment can unleash a tsunami of moral and interpersonal destruction beyond imagination. Robin
In numerous areas of my life, it feels like I'm stuck in the mud. We are in a critical phase of my stem cell transplant where the Medical Team is preparing for the final stages prior to discharge. I have to transition from IV infusions for hydration and medications to totally oral medications. I will have my last Prednisone pill on the 22nd of March and hopefully, along with it, the alleviation of lots of side effects. The Graft vs Host Disease the Prednisone has held in check keeps peeping its head up to remind me that it is still lurking around like a mouse trying to find a warm home before winter. I have an eruption of skin damage around my Hickman Port. I have four skin fungal sites that we are treating. I am taking pills to reduce the water retention in my lower legs. I test blood sugar levels 4 times a day and take insulin three times a day. I still have an IV infusion here at home a couple hours a day and the list goes on and on. My new attending Physician wants me to have another bone marrow biopsy on Tuesday. His speciality is Myleo Displastic Syndrome, which I had when I first came here, and he wants hard evidence that it is no longer there. Hanna's stem cells should have destroyed and replaced all of my diseased stem cells, but he wants to know for certain. It will be one of the milestones we need to pass to be discharged in the best possible condition. It is a painful and stressful procedure that no one looks forward to having. The skill of the Dr. doing the biopsy makes all the difference in the world. Please pray for a talented and God inspired technician. I continue to lose weight, in spite of eating a diet that would normally put pounds on your body. I need to avoid sugar and related products, so that must contribute significantly. I have lost 40 lbs since my Transplant and that should level off once I'm off the Prednisone. Hopefully, I won't just gain it all back again, I don't believe that I will. I am weak as a kitten after a few hours of activity, but I keep exercising to maintain muscle strength. In your prayers this week, pray specifically that the Myleo Displastic Syndrome is completely gone and that I can begin to regain some physical strength and stamina.
The emotional and physical impact of my brother Tom's death and dying journey is both inspirational and exhausting. We finally found his medical directives from his house in Wapato. By the grace of God, we followed them exactly as he had directed. I was named to be his Medical Representative and have final say in the length and extent of treatment. It was better that we didn't have that written directive earlier, because it worked out much better for our family to come to a unanimous consensus when decision time arrived. I would not have done much differently than we did, only probably a little sooner. It is a sobering responsibility when someone else gives into your hands the authority to artificially sustain life, or allow nature to take its course. I will take a copy of his Directive to the Harborview Social Worker to put in Tom's permanent file. It will be available to his Medical Team and give them some comfort knowing they ultimately did what he would have wanted them to do. We are in the process of finalizing the Celebration of Tom's Life in Wapato on Memorial Day Weekend. It will include a formal church service, Military Honors, and a community dinner at the American Legion on Saturday, May 28. Most of that is already scheduled and Hanna and I will share in officiating the service at the church. Like many of you, I find myself opening my cell phone and instinctively looking up Tom's number because I want to talk to him about something. Habits die harder than people.
Without the love, support, prayers, cards and compassion of all of you and untold others, we would not only be in the miry clay, but in the quicksand of despair. God is using all of you to hold us together and we will slowly emerge from the depths, but not too quickly. There are lessons to be learned in the pits and caves of life. If we fail to listen to that still small voice of God when everything seems at its worst, we may miss an Elijah like moment when God spoke to him personally in a gentle whisper. God assured him that he was not alone, that there were 7000 other faithful followers of the True God, and here are your marching orders to go forth with your life. I Kings 19. I received an inspired e-mail from a dear friend who knows both my heart and situation the other day. His word to me was that of the vineyard. He has a vision of God doing a significant pruning of my life (vine). Having pruned fruit trees and grapes since high school, I get it.Only those vines that are pruned severely and wisely will produce excellent fruit. God knows what His purposes are in our lives and I am encouraged to anticipate what new and better spiritual fruit will come forth from all this.We will "surthrive" by the Grace of God and together bring glory and praise to God's Name. Robin
VANCOUVER, BRITISH COLUMBIA, CANADA Fall 1974
We worked on the family farm again over the Summer of 1974. We earned enough money to go back to Regent College for my second year of Theological Education at Regent College and receive a Master's in Christian Studies. Kriss had passed her State Board Exams and was licensed as a LPN. However, she didn't have a work visa from the Canadian Government, so she couldn't work as a LPN. She did find an under the table job as a Nanny for a Neuro-Surgeon and his wife, caring for their two children. They were a wonderful christian couple who chose to remain in Canada and provide medical care in their system in lieu of accepting offer after offer from American Medical Centers which would have paid him 5-10 times as much income. You had to admire their devotion to their country and the care of their fellow countrymen. We lived in a basement apartment in the middle of Vancouver, which meant that I still had to commute, but now only 20 minutes to school. I had mastered the vocabulary and methodology of theological studies and did well. To graduate you had to produce a Master's Thesis of original research on a topic approved by your Advisor. I decided to research the Biblical basis of the Equality of Men and Women in Christian Marriage. It was a daunting, yet enlightening process to dig beneath the superficial culturally based assumptions of both the 1st and 20th centuries. I had learned to multi-task and so I used major chapters of my Thesis for the Major Papers of individual classes to great success and even approval of my professors. We developed a rather strange lifestyle. Kriss would get up around 5 am and manually type what I had written out by hand, then at 7am go play Mary Poppins with her kids. I would get up around noon and begin to do research on my Thesis. I had told my Professors that they wouldn't see much of me, but I would submit all my work on time and I would check in with them on a regular basis. Somehow they accepted my offer and knew that I was deeply involved in original research and they wanted to support me in any way that they could. I would study until 4 pm when Kriss got home, we would spend a couple hours together fixing supper and visiting a while. By 8 pm I was back on the clock doing research and occasionally listening to the Vancouver Cannucks Hockey Game in the background and Kriss would finish typing for the day. I would study until 4am. It might sound like a really crazy and unbalanced lifestyle, but it worked so well and so efficiently, that I finished all the requirements for my normal classes and my Thesis three weeks before school was over. We actually took 10 days off and went back to the family farm for some R&R.
Returning to Vancouver, we went through Graduation and looked forward to what God had in store for us in the next chapter of our lives which would include a new born baby that coming September. Now we had the responsibility of parenthood to consider in making decisions concerning our future. Hanna was, is and will always be a precious gift to us, as are all our children. Being given the stewardship of four human lives is probably the most daunting responsibility and privilege any of us is ever given in this life. They are God's children first and always. We do not possess them, nor they us. Just because you have a piano in your home doesn't make you a pianist. Just because you have a biological child doesn't automatically turn you into a competent parent. We prayerfully and fearfully welcomed each child as God's gift and pray that one day we will have proved ourselves worthy of those gifts. Praise be to God for being the Heavenly Parent to our children, when we fell short and were unworthy. One final event occurred just before finishing up at Regent College that would remain with me forever. I had a good friend who was amazingly talented, intelligent, charming, and potentially successful in Theological Studies. He applied and was accepted into a Ph.D. program at one of the most prestigious Theological Schools in England. We had been working across the aisle doing research one evening when he asked:"Want a break from the monotony?" I asked him what he meant and he told me to come over to his desk and look at something that helped him get his mind off of the tedium of research. He threw out a pornographic magazine, which from the cover, you couldn't fail to imagine what was inside. I looked at him and said: "You've got to be kidding, no thanks!" He took some offense at my rejection of his stress-alleviating distraction and we let it pass. He went to England, got his Ph D. in New Testament Studies, returned to a Theological Institution in Canada as a Professor and Administrator, fell in "love" with an employee of that Institution, abandoned his wife and sons, created a scandal within the Institution that caused great harm. I never forgot that moment of temptation and decision when God pulled me out of the miry clay of potential pornographic titillation and addiction. I don't think my friend wanted out of the mud. Moral choices seem so innocent and inconsequential in the moment of time. In reality, one choice in a vulnerable moment can unleash a tsunami of moral and interpersonal destruction beyond imagination. Robin
Sunday, March 13, 2011
DEATH WITH DIGNITY!
Seattle, WA, March 13, 2011, Rainy and cool.
Yesterday my brother Tom went home to be with the Lord. It is one thing to live well, it is equally important to die well. Allow me to share the day with you. I awoke around 4:30 am to finalize the liturgy that we were going to use at a service just prior to removal of heroic life support measures. Our daughter Hanna came out shortly after that and we collaborated on music and the order of service. I have to have infusions in the morning, along with tests for blood sugar, an insulin shot, and a fist full of pills. Getting all of those things coordinated and something for breakfast took up much of the morning. We weren't scheduled to go to Harborview until around 2 pm, but some complications with visitors and Tom's deteriorating condition caused us to get there closer to 1 pm. We had copied the "Family Service for Tom Peterson" so everyone present could participate. When we got to Tom's room, he was essentially in the same condition as the day before. His nurse advised us to go ahead with our worship time, because he didn't believe Tom would linger very long after removal of the ventilator tube; he underestimated the strength of the Peterson heart.
Gathered in a circle around his bed, we went through the liturgy interspersed with songs like: "Precious Lord, Take my Hand, lead me on, help me stand, I am tired, I am weak, I am worn. Through the storm, through the night, lead me on, to the light, Take my hand, precious Lord, and lead me home. When my way grows drear, precious Lord, linger near, When my life is almost gone, Hear my cry, hear my call, Hold my hand, lest I fall, Take my hand, precious Lord, and lead me home."
We recited together the 23rd Psalm and the Lord's Prayer. Following the singing of Amazing Grace, I delivered the following Commendation and Prayer: "Depart, O Christian soul, out of this world; In the name of God the Father Almighty who created you; In the name of Jesus Christ who redeemed you; In the name of the Holy Spirit who sanctifies you; May your rest be this day in peace, and your dwelling. place in the paradise of God.....Into your hands, O merciful Savior, we commend our brother, Tom, acknowledge, we humbly beseech you, a sheep of your fold, a lamb of your own flock, a sinner of your own redeeming. Receive him into the arms of your mercy, into the blessed rest of everlasting peace, and into the glorious company of the saints in light. Amen We closed this formal service singing: "I'll Fly Away" Some glad morning when this life is o'er, I'll fly away. To a home on God's celestial shore, I'll fly away. I'll fly away, O glory, I'll fly away; When I die, Hallelujah, by and by I'll fly away....When the shadows of this life have grown I'll fly away; Like a bird from prison bars has flown, I'll fly away. I'll fly away, O glory, I'll fly away; When I die, Hallelujah, by and by I'll fly away....Just a few more weary days and then I'll fly away; To a land where joys shall never end, I'll fly away; I'll fly away, O glory, I'll fly away; When I die, Hallelujah, by and by I'll fly away."
The nurse came in and requested we all leave so they could do all the procedures they needed to do We began a vigil that would last approximately 5 hours. Hanna and her sisters continued to sing old-timey gospel songs with a distinct Appalachian flavor that were just perfect and beautifully sung. They all seemed to be orchestrated by a Master Conductor that was the One truly in charge. Tom was stable at this time so we took shifts, getting something to eat and taking a break from the intensity of it all. Someone was always at his side, holding his hand or caressing his face. He slowly lost oxygen absorption which fuels and heart and at 7:16 pm his heart stopped. We gathered in a circle of prayer around his bed and commended him into the arms of God. Individuals had their opportunity to say goodbye and we left in peace.
Tom felt no pain, was never in distress and at some spiritual level knew exactly what was going on and embraced death with as much courage and passion as he embraced life.What was most difficult for my daughters, was that they could not help thinking that it could just as easily have been me on that bed, having lost my battle with cancer. This time together sharing the death of my brother will prepare them for whatever happens to Kriss and me in the future. We must teach our children not to be afraid to face the process of death and dying head on. God's promises in Scripture abound with affirmations like: "The body that is sown is perishable, it is raised imperishable, it is sown in dishonor, it is raised in glory; it is sown in weakness, it is raised in power, it is sown a natural body, it is raised a spiritual body." 1 Cor. 15:42ff.
In the coming days there will be many details to be taken care of preparing for a Formal Celebration of Tom's Life in the Yakima Valley, coordinating with the VFW and American Legion, and arranging for the disposal of his cremains up at the cabin outside of Ellensburg. My sister Kathy and I are also Executors of his will and Estate, so that will take no little time. The tentative date for his services is over Memorial Day Weekend, which is fitting for his service to our nation and the Wapato Legion Community.
God was present and truly glorified in the manner in which my brother left this world. His chrysalis from a shell of a man to a resurrection body was a beautiful gift to us all. He said his Soft Goodbye and is now dancing in the streets of gold. Robin
Yesterday my brother Tom went home to be with the Lord. It is one thing to live well, it is equally important to die well. Allow me to share the day with you. I awoke around 4:30 am to finalize the liturgy that we were going to use at a service just prior to removal of heroic life support measures. Our daughter Hanna came out shortly after that and we collaborated on music and the order of service. I have to have infusions in the morning, along with tests for blood sugar, an insulin shot, and a fist full of pills. Getting all of those things coordinated and something for breakfast took up much of the morning. We weren't scheduled to go to Harborview until around 2 pm, but some complications with visitors and Tom's deteriorating condition caused us to get there closer to 1 pm. We had copied the "Family Service for Tom Peterson" so everyone present could participate. When we got to Tom's room, he was essentially in the same condition as the day before. His nurse advised us to go ahead with our worship time, because he didn't believe Tom would linger very long after removal of the ventilator tube; he underestimated the strength of the Peterson heart.
Gathered in a circle around his bed, we went through the liturgy interspersed with songs like: "Precious Lord, Take my Hand, lead me on, help me stand, I am tired, I am weak, I am worn. Through the storm, through the night, lead me on, to the light, Take my hand, precious Lord, and lead me home. When my way grows drear, precious Lord, linger near, When my life is almost gone, Hear my cry, hear my call, Hold my hand, lest I fall, Take my hand, precious Lord, and lead me home."
We recited together the 23rd Psalm and the Lord's Prayer. Following the singing of Amazing Grace, I delivered the following Commendation and Prayer: "Depart, O Christian soul, out of this world; In the name of God the Father Almighty who created you; In the name of Jesus Christ who redeemed you; In the name of the Holy Spirit who sanctifies you; May your rest be this day in peace, and your dwelling. place in the paradise of God.....Into your hands, O merciful Savior, we commend our brother, Tom, acknowledge, we humbly beseech you, a sheep of your fold, a lamb of your own flock, a sinner of your own redeeming. Receive him into the arms of your mercy, into the blessed rest of everlasting peace, and into the glorious company of the saints in light. Amen We closed this formal service singing: "I'll Fly Away" Some glad morning when this life is o'er, I'll fly away. To a home on God's celestial shore, I'll fly away. I'll fly away, O glory, I'll fly away; When I die, Hallelujah, by and by I'll fly away....When the shadows of this life have grown I'll fly away; Like a bird from prison bars has flown, I'll fly away. I'll fly away, O glory, I'll fly away; When I die, Hallelujah, by and by I'll fly away....Just a few more weary days and then I'll fly away; To a land where joys shall never end, I'll fly away; I'll fly away, O glory, I'll fly away; When I die, Hallelujah, by and by I'll fly away."
The nurse came in and requested we all leave so they could do all the procedures they needed to do We began a vigil that would last approximately 5 hours. Hanna and her sisters continued to sing old-timey gospel songs with a distinct Appalachian flavor that were just perfect and beautifully sung. They all seemed to be orchestrated by a Master Conductor that was the One truly in charge. Tom was stable at this time so we took shifts, getting something to eat and taking a break from the intensity of it all. Someone was always at his side, holding his hand or caressing his face. He slowly lost oxygen absorption which fuels and heart and at 7:16 pm his heart stopped. We gathered in a circle of prayer around his bed and commended him into the arms of God. Individuals had their opportunity to say goodbye and we left in peace.
Tom felt no pain, was never in distress and at some spiritual level knew exactly what was going on and embraced death with as much courage and passion as he embraced life.What was most difficult for my daughters, was that they could not help thinking that it could just as easily have been me on that bed, having lost my battle with cancer. This time together sharing the death of my brother will prepare them for whatever happens to Kriss and me in the future. We must teach our children not to be afraid to face the process of death and dying head on. God's promises in Scripture abound with affirmations like: "The body that is sown is perishable, it is raised imperishable, it is sown in dishonor, it is raised in glory; it is sown in weakness, it is raised in power, it is sown a natural body, it is raised a spiritual body." 1 Cor. 15:42ff.
In the coming days there will be many details to be taken care of preparing for a Formal Celebration of Tom's Life in the Yakima Valley, coordinating with the VFW and American Legion, and arranging for the disposal of his cremains up at the cabin outside of Ellensburg. My sister Kathy and I are also Executors of his will and Estate, so that will take no little time. The tentative date for his services is over Memorial Day Weekend, which is fitting for his service to our nation and the Wapato Legion Community.
God was present and truly glorified in the manner in which my brother left this world. His chrysalis from a shell of a man to a resurrection body was a beautiful gift to us all. He said his Soft Goodbye and is now dancing in the streets of gold. Robin
Friday, March 11, 2011
A SOFT GOODBYE - CELTIC WOMEN
A Soft Goodbye
when the light begins to fade
and shadows fall across the sea,
one bright star in the evening sky.
your love's light leads me on my way.
there's a dream that will not sleep,
a burning hope that will not die.
so I must go now with the wind,
and leave you waiting on the tide.
time to fly, time to touch the sky.
one voice alone, a haunting cry.
one song, one star burning bright,
may it carry me through darkest night.
rain comes over the gray hills,
and on the air, a soft goodbye.
hear the song that I sing to you
when the time has come to fly.
when I leave and take the wind
and find the land that faith will bring,
the brightest star in the evening sky
is yours to find for me.
is yours to find for me.
Seattle, WA, March 11, 2011
My brother Tom will live out the words to "A Soft Goodbye" in the coming hours or days. As a family, we have unanimously agreed that to continue heroic measures to prolong his physical life is not in his best interest. After consultations with his Medical Team, all are in agreement that it is time to let nature take its course. Tomorrow they will begin to remove certain life support systems that are keeping him alive physically, but are not sustainable for any quality of life that he would choose for himself. It is an agonizing decision that I have made with many of you who read this blog. To have to let go and release loved ones into the merciful hand of God is one of the most difficult decisions we ever make in life. Graciously, every member of our family is in agreement and that in itself is a minor miracle. Sometime in the afternoon, they will begin the Palliative Care Process for Tom and we will surround him with worship and song. Our daughter, Hanna, plays the Mandolin and we will conduct a service of consecration and committal. There is a beautiful liturgy from the Book of Common Prayer that has been used for hundreds of years that we will borrow from.
Tom was my next older brother. I have spoken of him in previous blogs. During my battle with cancer and particularly during my Stem Cell Transplant process, he has been at my bedside as much as he was able. They tested all of my siblings to find a suitable donor, but none was found. I cannot tell you how many times he asked me why he wasn't chosen to be my donor. I had to explain that it just wasn't an appropriate match. He never accepted that fully. He so desperately wanted to give me a second chance at life that he would have gladly given his life for mine. As a Vietnam Vet, he had already stood in the gap as a medic and risked his life to save others. Jesus described something like that when he said: "No greater love exists, than to be willing to give your life for another." Although he was 5 years older than I, we were in many ways much closer in maturity and experience. Having no biological children of his own, he was a better Father to my children than I was. They were truly special to him. He took countless videos of their birthdays, sporting events, holiday celebrations and spontaneous dramatic productions they created at Christmas and New Years. In the last months, he had a burning desire to preserve those documents on DVDs. Maybe he had some intuition that something made that a priority, those approaching the end of life are given insights, if they are willing to listen. He was a Jack of all Trades and Master of Many. Whenever he came to visit us in Walla Walla, I couldn't keep him away from the welder or other tool, trying to help out anyway he could. Most of the time it was truly valuable and appreciated. Occasionally, it was more work keeping him working and I was exhausted trying to get my stuff done and keep him from getting bored. He adored Kriss and I'm sure was deeply envious of the gift she is to me. I will be forever indebted to him for being the father to my children that I choose to or was not able to be to them. Maybe that is the true essence of family. No one single individual can meet all the needs of even one other person emotionally, psychologically, or spiritually. Rather than grieve my failure as a Father, I can celebrate the gift of his love and devotion for my children.
In the coming days, we will hear him say his soft goodbye and find the land that faith will bring. God has gone before and prepared a perfect place, just for him. A garden in which the angels do all the weeding. Beautiful wood and stones to make works of art. Time with famous fishermen of the scriptures to feel the sun on your back and the gentle breathe of heaven on your face. Reunions with family and friends who have gone before. A perfect resurrection body with no pain or earthly limitations. Peace, in the presence of the Prince of Peace. If it sounds too good to be true, just search the promises of God in scripture and claim them by faith in Christ for your own and it will make us all envy him just a bit for his liberation from this world of woe. Robin
when the light begins to fade
and shadows fall across the sea,
one bright star in the evening sky.
your love's light leads me on my way.
there's a dream that will not sleep,
a burning hope that will not die.
so I must go now with the wind,
and leave you waiting on the tide.
time to fly, time to touch the sky.
one voice alone, a haunting cry.
one song, one star burning bright,
may it carry me through darkest night.
rain comes over the gray hills,
and on the air, a soft goodbye.
hear the song that I sing to you
when the time has come to fly.
when I leave and take the wind
and find the land that faith will bring,
the brightest star in the evening sky
is yours to find for me.
is yours to find for me.
Seattle, WA, March 11, 2011
My brother Tom will live out the words to "A Soft Goodbye" in the coming hours or days. As a family, we have unanimously agreed that to continue heroic measures to prolong his physical life is not in his best interest. After consultations with his Medical Team, all are in agreement that it is time to let nature take its course. Tomorrow they will begin to remove certain life support systems that are keeping him alive physically, but are not sustainable for any quality of life that he would choose for himself. It is an agonizing decision that I have made with many of you who read this blog. To have to let go and release loved ones into the merciful hand of God is one of the most difficult decisions we ever make in life. Graciously, every member of our family is in agreement and that in itself is a minor miracle. Sometime in the afternoon, they will begin the Palliative Care Process for Tom and we will surround him with worship and song. Our daughter, Hanna, plays the Mandolin and we will conduct a service of consecration and committal. There is a beautiful liturgy from the Book of Common Prayer that has been used for hundreds of years that we will borrow from.
Tom was my next older brother. I have spoken of him in previous blogs. During my battle with cancer and particularly during my Stem Cell Transplant process, he has been at my bedside as much as he was able. They tested all of my siblings to find a suitable donor, but none was found. I cannot tell you how many times he asked me why he wasn't chosen to be my donor. I had to explain that it just wasn't an appropriate match. He never accepted that fully. He so desperately wanted to give me a second chance at life that he would have gladly given his life for mine. As a Vietnam Vet, he had already stood in the gap as a medic and risked his life to save others. Jesus described something like that when he said: "No greater love exists, than to be willing to give your life for another." Although he was 5 years older than I, we were in many ways much closer in maturity and experience. Having no biological children of his own, he was a better Father to my children than I was. They were truly special to him. He took countless videos of their birthdays, sporting events, holiday celebrations and spontaneous dramatic productions they created at Christmas and New Years. In the last months, he had a burning desire to preserve those documents on DVDs. Maybe he had some intuition that something made that a priority, those approaching the end of life are given insights, if they are willing to listen. He was a Jack of all Trades and Master of Many. Whenever he came to visit us in Walla Walla, I couldn't keep him away from the welder or other tool, trying to help out anyway he could. Most of the time it was truly valuable and appreciated. Occasionally, it was more work keeping him working and I was exhausted trying to get my stuff done and keep him from getting bored. He adored Kriss and I'm sure was deeply envious of the gift she is to me. I will be forever indebted to him for being the father to my children that I choose to or was not able to be to them. Maybe that is the true essence of family. No one single individual can meet all the needs of even one other person emotionally, psychologically, or spiritually. Rather than grieve my failure as a Father, I can celebrate the gift of his love and devotion for my children.
In the coming days, we will hear him say his soft goodbye and find the land that faith will bring. God has gone before and prepared a perfect place, just for him. A garden in which the angels do all the weeding. Beautiful wood and stones to make works of art. Time with famous fishermen of the scriptures to feel the sun on your back and the gentle breathe of heaven on your face. Reunions with family and friends who have gone before. A perfect resurrection body with no pain or earthly limitations. Peace, in the presence of the Prince of Peace. If it sounds too good to be true, just search the promises of God in scripture and claim them by faith in Christ for your own and it will make us all envy him just a bit for his liberation from this world of woe. Robin
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