Well, we prayed for a miracle. I know I did. A miraculous healing. Spontaneous remission. A complete cure. And no, those miracles did not occur, despite all efforts to make them happen.

But, we can still be very thankful, and we can even rejoice... because when it came to miracles in our family, God provided abundantly.

The first of God's miracles was Tom himself. Of course, every person is a miracle, made in the image of God. However, Tom was particularly amazing, and as we reflect on his life, we must ask ourselves why. Well, we all know that he was one tall drink of water, but we also know that his beauty went so much deeper. His twinkling eyes and beautiful smile were merely outward reminders of the qualities that drew so many of us to him. The first of these qualities was that Tommy had love in his heart for everyone. He loved people for who they were, he consciously chose to look past people's shortcomings, and he truly saw the best in everybody. When he saw behavior from others that was less than admirable, he would invariably say, "You know, if I were in that same position, I'd probably feel or act the same way." He had a generous spirit that he extended to all he knew, and an incredible heart for appreciating someone's uniqueness. It didn't matter what your background was, what you were doing with your life, or any other worldly concern; he was going to find something about you to like. The second quality that drew us to Tommy was his phenomenal ability to make friends wherever he went... and KEEP them. Certainly, his vitality and his openness created the pathway for meeting many people, but these things were not what sustained his friendships; what kept his friends around for life was Tom's unparalleled sense of loyalty. He truly valued the people in his life. He cared immensely about all of his friends, lent them a helping hand whenever he could, focused only on the positive side of their characters, was always the peacemaker, and was completely unguarded with his love and affection for them. He used to tell me: "The best part about me is my friends; they're wonderful people." Tommy had a knack for bringing out the wonderful in all of us, because the best was all that he ultimately chose to see. The third quality that drew us to Tom was that he was rarely angry; and if he was, his anger was short-lived. I knew exactly when Tom was upset; he'd set his jaw and glare his eyes. And he'd kind of remind me of his mother Nita, which was a little intimidating. But, I also knew that it wouldn't be more than a few minutes before his arms were open, and all would be forgiven and forgotten. He was a big believer in what he called "keeping peace in the valley," but you knew that his forgiveness meant much more than that. What you really felt was, "I love you no matter what." Love ruled Tommy's heart... not anger, not suspicion, not jealousy, not ill-will. It was no wonder that Tommy had more life-long, authentic friendships --- from all walks of life --- than anyone I've ever known. The final reason we were drawn to Tom was because he was adorable; and I don't mean his appearance. Rather, there was something about him that made you want to give to him, protect him, watch after him, and take care of him. He brought out a nurturing side in many of us. And how could he help but do this? He had the handsome sweetness of a lion cub, the whiskery and mischievous charm of an otter, and the devoted heart of man's best friend. And beneath his rugged mustache, his gorgeous smile, and his sparkling eyes, was a delightful sense of humor, a quick mind, a sensitive soul, and a caring heart. In the words of our friend, Linda, "He was a lover." And, as his mother described him in his earliest years, "Why, he would just run up to you and snuggle in your arms, and was just a real little sweetheart." So, you had to love him back. Thus began the wonderful exchanges with him that touched all of us so profoundly. Tom himself was God's first miracle in our family.

The second of God's miracles was that Tom got married... at age 49, after never having been married before. According to Tom, there was a cash pool going on at our wedding to see whether he would actually finish the ceremony, or go running for the hills before he said, "I do." I didn't blame people for wondering whether or not it was the best idea; frankly, he made an odd choice. It was like Dobie Gillis was being smitten by Zelda Gilroy instead of Thalia Menninger. This dashing, fun-loving man --- for whatever reason --- chose to marry an awkward, very serious education wonk, who neither smoked nor partied, and hadn't touched a single drop of alcohol in seven years. We knew, at first meeting, that we liked each other. At our second meeting, we inwardly knew that we were getting married. However, our actual first date (which came about a month later) was hardly an auspicious beginning... and it was definitely a harbinger of interesting times ahead. After our first dinner, we were in front of a Hayward movie house, and I remember he terrified me by lighting up a cigarette. I had grown so fond of him, I couldn't stand the sight of such self-destruction. So what did I do? Well, I did what any 5 foot 2 inch person would do if they were trying to stop someone who was 6 foot 5. I jumped... really high. I made multiple attempts to jump up as high as I could, and snatch that cigarette right out of his hand, all of which made him shake me off like an annoying lap dog. "You're going to get a stroke!" "Would you get down?" "Do you realize you could get lung disease?" "I'm just trying to get one in before the movie!" "But you'll get a heart attack!" "Look, I'm a grown man!" And on it went. I think he got in about two good drags before he surrendered and got rid of it, mostly because I was perilously close to tears. He drove me home after we watched "The Insider," a movie about the unscrupulous practices of the tobacco industry (the subject matter, I promise, was purely coincidental). When we returned to my apartment, his thousand-watt smile glowed with admiration as he was gingerly squeezing my biceps, saying, "Look at these little muscles." Knowing that I was hooked, and knowing that I wanted to marry him, my response to him reflected concerns regarding basic compatability. I said to him: "You're not going to quit drinking... are you, Tom?" To which he answered, with all his cowboy charm, "Nope, I'm afraid I can't do that." After seeing how crestfallen I was at this response, he said, "Now why should I quit drinking, just answer me that?" And I, part nerd/part granola, said, "Well, there are several reasons! For one thing, it's a public health issue!" "A public health issue?" "Absolutely! Wait right here, and I'll get you some literature." "No, no... that's quite alright." "Please! I insist!" And so it went. He confessed to never having read my literature on the dangers of alcohol consumption, and why he ever called me again after that evening, I will never know. Maybe it was those little muscles. But whatever it was, it was destiny. And, despite how difficult it was for him to stay home during those early years, he later told me that there was no place he'd rather be, and no place where he was happier. We made a beautiful life together, Tommy, TJ, and I. Tommy was our cook, our rock, our voice of reason, our mediator during arguments, our comfort after a hard day, our sense of fun, and our shining example of love, forgiveness, and acceptance --- all the things that you're supposed to feel when you're in a family. He used to call ME "the moral and spiritual lynchpin of our household." Tom didn't realize that it was ultimately HE who embodied that role; I hope he realizes it now. He loved us, and he let us know it. Way before he ever found out he was dying, we'd be snuggled together and he'd actually say, with the biggest smile on his face, "I'm so happy, I could just stay like this forever." I'd say, "I know. Me too." And then he'd say, "When people find us, they'd just see two skulls, smiling." We never took each other for granted, and there were countless times, during the many moments of complete serenity and contentedness, where one of us would simply turn to the other and say, "Thank you." And the other person would say, "For what?" And we knew the answer would be: "For everything." And if it happened to be me who started the "thank you," Tom would say at the end, "Right back atcha!" I would do it all over again, Tommy... all sixteen years... from our first meeting at Byron's to your struggling last days of life. Good times, bad times, and everything in between. And even though our time together would appear, by worldly standards and statistics, to have been cut woefully short, I do know this: I would rather have had you for a husband for the length of time I did than any other husband for the rest of my life. Our love was God's miracle.

God's third miracle was that Tommy and I both came to Christ. In the beginning, both of us believed that there was a God, but we didn't believe too much more than this. Later, he would always remind me that it was HIS idea that I check out Redwood Chapel, because Lorna Enns went there, and if I was in the mood for checking out churches, she was good people. But, he himself was having none of it. Well, after three months of listening to Pastor Bob preach on the book of Galatians, I BELIEVED --- fervently and wholeheartedly --- so much so that I went home and told Tom that I was devoting my life to Christ. I remember the night I told him; I was excited, but I was also nervous. "So what does this mean?" he asked. "Exactly what I said. I'm devoting my life to Christ." "So... where are you going?" "What do you mean, 'Where am I going?'" "I mean, are you leaving?" "You mean, the marriage? Town? What? Where do you think I'd go?" "Africa." "Oh, come on, Tom." "Well, I know how you are. You never just DO something! It's ALWAYS all or nothing, black or white, ready to go off the deep end." Well, he was relieved that my commitment wasn't taking me out of the country or out of the house, but things were kind of uneven after that, and he knew it. As Pastor Bob led him through his many questions over the years, and as Gabe and Ann-marie helped bring Tom into fellowship with other believers, Tom eventually believed as well. And then, Tom began to pray... not only at every meal, but when he was alone... and every night before bed... and he stood as witness for his wife and son. In the end, Tom praised God every day on his death bed, on both good days and bad, with his fist in the air, proclaiming, "Our God is a mighty God!" And every day on his death bed, on both good days and bad, he thanked the Lord for the sacrifice that allowed for his eternal salvation. And now, Tommy is home, and we will see him again... and as sparkly and vibrant as he was in this life, he has never been more alive than he is right now. Tom's salvation was another of God's miracles. And the happiness of our marriage, the strength of Tom's fatherhood, and the promise of eternal life was grounded in Jesus Christ Our Lord. Praise God!

God's final miracle to us was all of you, and I know that Tommy would want me to say something about this. He was humbled to the very core of his being, he was awed beyond words, and he was moved to tears --- on an almost daily basis --- at how so many of you came together for him, and for our entire family. Make no mistake. God did a mighty work in our house these last five months, and a mighty work in our souls. Our family learned more about community, generosity, unselfish love, and sacrifice --- and how to be part of the body of Christ --- than we would have ever thought possible. You see, we were very self-sufficient... as individual people, and as a family. Hardly anyone came to our house on a regular basis. It was our own private enclave, and if we wanted to see other people, we would invariably go to THEM instead of allowing them to come to US. When Tommy was first diagnosed, we had to make a decision about how much we were going to let people into our lives. When we finally decided to open that door --- figuratively and literally --- we witnessed humanity at its finest hour. Therefore, in order to honor Tommy today, we need to consider the words that he said at his very last Communion: "It's about love. Don't be afraid to love; don't be afraid to give." So open your heart --- and the door of your life --- to God's love, and the love of others, and follow our Lord's commandment to love one another as He first loved you, and God will do an incredible work in your lives. He is a mighty God indeed! He showed us His love and His grace during this immensely difficult time by giving us all of YOU, who shared of your time, your treasures, your God-given gifts, your counsel, and above all, your love. In Tom's remarkable words: "If it took getting cancer to see what true love really looks like, then I'm glad it happened... but, I've had enough of cancer." He was not merely referring to being cared for by his wife, although that was the context in which this was said... rather, he was also referring to all of you. Your love, and all that it manifested, was God's final miracle that Tom witnessed in this life.

If you think Tom's gone, you're wrong. He will live forever in paradise... and even though his body is no longer with us, the essence of who he is can go on in our hearts, as we continue to live here on Earth. When you're thinking of holding a grudge, stop yourself, and remember Tom. When you're thinking of excluding someone, stop yourself, and remember Tom. When you're wondering whether or not you should help someone, or love someone, or even talk with someone, remember Tom. When you're thinking of spending money that you don't have, remember Tom. In fact, if you're thinking of spending money at all, remember Tom. You see, he lives in all of us, just for having known him, and being touched by his life. Tommy may not have been cured, but he was healed... and his life was healing to those who knew him.

So, as a long-time elementary school teacher, I now paraphrase a quote from Dr. Theodor Geisel, better known as Dr. Seuss: "Don't cry because he's gone; smile because he happened."

A hui hou, dear Tommy. And thank you... for everything. We will love you forever, remember you always, and we will see you again. Praise God!

Dear Friends and Family,

Tom had a second bisphosphonate treatment done, and per the protocol, bloodwork was done beforehand.  The big news?

Tom's tumor markers are down significantly, and liver markers and alkaline phosphatase are also decreasing.  WOW!

"So what are we doing?" you might ask.  Well, the medical community didn't have a whole lot to offer to someone with a terminal case of adenocarcinoma.  Thus, after Tom was able to keep food down, we decided to aggressively pursue Lunasin, which is available in Reliv products.   Fortunately, a geneticist and biochemist named Dr. Alfredo Galvez has shared his patented blend of bioavailable Lunasin to Reliv, a company that manufactures incredible nutritional supplements.  Tom has been drinking a potent blend of four different products two to three times per day, and some remarkable and positive changes are occuring!  I am taking one shake a day myself, and feel 20 years younger.   For those who are interested, I offer the following link for a very short read from the U.S. Department of Agriculture.  While the article does not mention the Reliv company and their products, Dr. Galvez has posted the article on his Facebook page in order to explain that the most bioavailable form of Lunasin is readily available in Reliv supplements.  Here is the article:

http://agresearchmag.ars.usda.gov/2015/jul/soy/?utm_source=BenchmarkEmail&utm_campaign=LunaRich+USDA&utm_medium=email#printdiv

More and more oncologists are recognizing that cancer is a sign that an immune system isn't working properly, for whatever reason.  Thus, instead of killing tumors with radiation and chemotherapy, some U.S. hospitals are now focusing on creating a strong immune system in order to let the body fight the cancer.  For example, there are now clinical trials in which vaccines are being created for cancer patients.  These developments have been cited in a recent episode of HBO's "VICE," which mentions work currently being done by The Mayo Clinic, MD Anderson, and University of Pennsylvania.  In addition, Washington University in Missouri is creating personalized vaccines in fighting late-stage melanoma.  All of this is incredibly positive!  Did you know that this type of work is already being done at Issels Clinic, and other cancer clinics that are forced to do their work in Mexico due to a lack of FDA approval?  My hope is that these treatments get approved quickly, and that immunotherapy becomes one of the standard choices for cancer patients in the U.S.  

HOWEVER... Tom cannot afford to wait for that day.  In the meantime, it appears that aggressive use of Reliv's Lunasin-enriched products is making a big difference in his overall health, largely because the outstanding nutrition, combined with the Lunasin, is giving the body what it needs to take care of itself.  The results are astounding!  For example, his right shoulder (which was in TERRIBLE shape before he was ever diagnosed with cancer) is coming back into working order.  His white blood cell count is going up, and his tumor and liver markers are coming down.  If these wonderful products continue to help Tom's body to fight disease, I will back off on the idea of going to a clinic in Mexico.  Meanwhile, the hospice nurse is pretty surprised by this turnaround.  I hope and pray that it continues!

In light of all these positive developments, I need to publicly state that all of you have been magnificent in helping our family out during these difficult and uncertain times.  We owe so many thanks, it's hard to know where to begin.  Thus, I'll just start:  the ladies of Christ Church Tri-Valley continue to come in and help out.  What organizers!  Peggy, Jennifer, Donna, Marilyn M., Marilyn A., Laura, and Tracey --- you're amazing, and thank you so much for beautifying our home by cleaning, organizing, and shopping!  A giant "thank you" to my dear pals from Eldridge --- Kim, Amy, and Susan --- the whirling dervishes of organization and clean-up, who have transformed our garage and guest bedroom like you wouldn't believe!    I want to thank Jim and Jeannie for the amazing adjustable bed that you helped choose and get for me and Tom so that he wouldn't have to use the hospital bed anymore, and Cherris for getting Tom a giant papa bear recliner so that his little kneecaps wouldn't have to bend too far to sit down.  To the men of Christ Church Tri-Valley, your yard work and maintenance help has been competent and outstanding!  Don, Dennis, Ty, Marty A., Deo, Pat, Brian, Kurt, Jeff, and the kids --- you guys are the best!  Marty A., you're porch and shower work was astounding!  A special thank you to Pat for moving furniture and fixing our garage door opener, as well as faithfully visiting us.  And big hugs to Tiger, Linda, Sharon, Nick, Shorty, Dave W., Skip, Dave L., Mark, and Bob for regularly checking in with Tom.  Your calls and visits mean so much to him, and to all of us!  And, last but not least, a huge hug and "thank you" to Marla, whose faith, perseverence, and generosity in introducing us to Reliv is making such an incredibly positive difference in Tom's health!  To all of you who are helping us, in ways big and small and too numerous to mention, we feel unbelievably blessed because of you.  We would not be able to go through this daunting challenge without you; you are indeed a gift from God!

Please continue to pray that we will continue to transform our hearts and minds toward healing and life, that we will have the strength to persevere during adversity, and the determination to seek a cure for Tommy.  He has so much life in him; you continue to be instrumental in helping him to pull through.  Thank you for your love, cards, letters, visits, and prayers!  We are humbled daily by God's grace, and your presence in our lives.

Love,

The Canterberrys

Dear Friends and Family,

Tom has a white BMW that doesn't get driven much anymore.  Tom, and several of his friends, told me to start it, and drive it around the block regularly.  They said if I don't, I may find that I'll need it one day, and it won't start.  Much like the Tin Man needed someone to oil him after he rusted out in the rain.  Most things won't work unless you work them.

Yesterday, we had our appointment with the biliary duct cancer specialist.  He did not talk about how long Tom had left to live; I don't think he felt that it was his place.  Tom tried to pin him down on some kind of time frame, but he certainly evaded it well.  (His words:  "If you want to go by statistical averages, it's one year.  But one year from when?  When you first started experiencing problems?  When you were first diagnosed?"  He clearly did not want to "go there.")  He also did not mention the staging of the cancer, its lethal qualities, or anything else regarding Tom's "chances."  His focus was on what he would do for Tom, if Tom were his patient.  He did not think chemotherapy would be wildly helpful in this instance, but he felt that more radiation could be done on bone spots that were problematic, and that he would follow up with our radiation oncologist.

For the time being, he is going to take Tom's biopsies and have them studied by a firm who will search for DNA mutations.  In 20% of known gene mutations (most of which are caused by environment, diet, etc.), there is a drug that can help repair them.  He'll call us in three or four weeks if there is something he can do to help.  Meanwhile, his words to Tom were stern:

"You need to take ownership and responsibility for your pain management.  You need to get out of bed, start walking around, exercise your muscles, and start eating.  If you don't, you're going to die."  Kind, but firm and matter-of-fact.

And praise God.  Praise God that this doctor, this specialist who has participated in 44 research papers on gastrointestinal cancers and received grants for numerous NIH studies, did not focus on timelines.  At some point in his career, he probably learned that this was not his call to make, regardless of how brilliant a doctor he might be.  Thus, he spoke to us as if the "amount of time we had left" was pretty inconsequential to the here and now --- and what can be done about today.

Thus, like the undriven BMW in front of our house --- and the rusty Tin Man before Dorothy got out her oil can --- Tom's engine must be started.  The good news is, Tom is on board.  Before the appointment, he told me that whatever this man said to do, he was going to do it.  In effect, the doctor said, "Pick up your bed and walk."

And so he shall, as there are many reasons to keep trying.  No, I don't mean TJ or myself, although I'd like to think that we might be motivating factors.  The truth is, Tom needs to try for himself... because he's worth it.  And there is much hope!  I was reviewing Tom's liver tests today since early March.  These liver blood counts, which peaked to an all-time high in mid-April, have come back to almost normal (two points out of range for one test, and six points out of range for another).  In one of these tests, the count went from 106 to 38 (normal is 36).  The other test peaked at 88, and went back down to 66 (normal is 60).  This is astonishingly good news, and it would be interesting to get another MRI and see if this 6 cm liver tumor has shrunk.  Either way, digestion is now running smoothly, and all vital signs remain normal.  Tom is still not yellow, itching, or fevered, and he is definitely producing enough bilirubin --- all very unusual for someone who supposedly has biliary duct cancer.

His bone metastasis is the biggest problem at this point, as it has the potential to lead to continual setbacks with muscle/ligament injury if Tom does not strengthen his muscles with food and movement.  In the meantime, many of the bones around his spine and hip have been eaten away by cancer much like a termite would eat away at a house.  Moreover, this is one area of his blood markers that HASN'T gone down.  The bone metastasis is a very aggressive thing, and I am quite firm about wanting to go to Issels Clinic to counteract the bone metastasis.  Tom is in terrific shape compared to a lot of their other patients, who frequently have had multiple surgeries and several unsuccessful bouts with chemo and radiation.  It makes no sense NOT to go down there, and getting him to agree to immuno-oncology therapy will be my biggest challenge.

Please pray for wisdom and harmony as we make this decision together, as well as strength and perseverence while Tom pursues health and wellness.  A huge praise for all of you, without whom we would not have come this far.  Thank you for coming alongside of us during this incredibly difficult albeit rewarding journey.  Your phone calls, visits, letters, moral support, and practical help are making all the difference in our lives.

Love,

The Canterberrys

Dear Friends and Family,

The Tin Man, of course, is Tommy... who, right now, has a giant heart --- in a body that needs to be oiled.

The June 4th bisphosphonates treatments worked --- praise God! --- and Tom's bones are strengthening day by day.  The calcium levels in his blood dropped back to normal in less than a week, and he is now walking, sitting up, doing light bed-ridden exercises, and keeping down food and liquids.  He is looking less and less emaciated by the day, and his darling face is filling out.  Like a rusty tin man, his joints need oil, and we are diligently but slowly bringing back his creaking and depleted body.  We are in awe!

You see, on June 2nd, Tom had pretty much had it with all of the nausea, pain, and vomiting, and he wanted to give up.  I saw, so clearly, that I needed to give him permission to go, as much as it hurt me.  TJ and I lay vigil that night.  In the morning, Tom was with us, but he was still in terrible shape.  The next night, my mother --- with her rosary beads ---prayed in Spanish over him.  Tiger was there, too, as well as my brother.  By the next day, Tom continued to live.  We had our first appointment to get bisphosphonates treatments that day, but as hard as I had worked to get the appointment for him, I decided not to press it.  I figured I wouldn't bug Tom about leaving the house, and decided to let it go.  God stepped in that very morning, though.  He sent us a phone call from a strong, dear woman who was also going through Stage IV cancer.  She explained that Tom needed to keep fighting, and that even though she was going through all kinds of difficulties, she was still able to go to work.  Well, this phone call did a tremendous work in Tom's heart.  After the conversation ended, Tom told me that we were going to the bisphosphonates infusion.  All I needed to do was find a big guy to take him down the stairs.  Two dear saints --- including a lovely young man from TJ's choir --- took Tom downstairs in a wheelchair, right to my van.  It was a sight to behold.  Tom hadn't moved out of bed in a couple of weeks, and had barely eaten for days on end.  He was a wreck; but, despite his devastating condition, his kidney functions were normal and he was able to do the infusions.  His blood pressure, miraculously, was also normal (110/40)... and even though he was incredibly weak, we made it back home safely.  Our neighbor --- with help from me and Marla --- helped hoist him up our steps in his wheelchair.

Two days later, Tommy was a new man.  We were told that the bisphosphonates infusions were not going to work quickly, but they certainly did.  It was absolutely astonishing how much the generalized bone pain had gone away.  I was leery about the sudden change, wondering how long it would last, and whether it was just a fluke.  However, we were told by the alternative oncology clinic that these treatments really helped people with bone metastasis, which is why I asked our hospital to implement them.  I am so glad we made it to that appointment that day.  I will be forever grateful for the dear woman who called us that morning, and for the people who got Tom up and down our stairs.  A giant "thank you" to Sandra, Marla, Mark, Fehi, and Matt!  Sometimes, you never know how much you affect people's lives with just a phone call or your presence.  In no small way, you saved Tommy's life that day, just by seeing him out the door.  You were incredible, and we are forever indebted to you!

Praise God!

How is Tom now?

Well, Tom's days consist of meds, bed showers, meals, Reliv shakes, exercise routines, and attempts to walk around and sit up.  Luckily, because of all of you, his days also consist of visits, phone calls, cards, prayers, and letters.  All of you are incredible, and you are all a testimony to God's faithfulness and grace!

What are we going to do about the cancer?  No worries.  The answer is:  plenty.  I want to keep this part short, as it's rather involved.  Suffice to say that I am petitioning our hospital to move Tom's case to another hospital.  He has a consult appointment with the other hospital next week, and they are currently reviewing his radiology studies and biopsies in order to get a clearer picture of what is happening.  I think they will spend more time figuring out what is wrong with him, and come up with ways to help him.  There are two other viable options that we can pursue, but both are in L.A., and we want to see what a fine local choice has to offer.  According to what I understand, they have assigned his case to an incredible doctor.

In the meantime, we are utterly speechless over the love and generosity of all of you!  In particular, we are floored by our dear saints at Christ Church Tri-Valley, who have stepped in to take care of household duties, repairs, and yard work, as well as the unbelievable devotion of Tom's friends and mine.  You are doing a magnificent work in our house and in our hearts, and you are a beautiful example of true friendship to our son!  TJ is watching everything from underneath the brim of his ever-present baseball cap, and seeing what it means to be part of the Body of Christ, and what it means to be a friend.  Tom and I are simply stunned.  We would like to extend a special "thank you" to Cherris for helping us fix our central A/C for these dog days of summer, and Pat, Robby, Tiger, Sharon, Linda, David, Skip, and Jim for your consistently coming to visit with Tommy during these difficult days.  Every day, I wake up and thank God that Tommy is still with us... and all of us thank God that every last one of you are in our lives.

Let us praise Him for the transformation of heart, mind, and soul that is taking place within Tommy.  Please pray for perseverance, strength, and TRUST in His plan for our family.  Please pray that the three of us become empty vessels for His will, and that we continue to grow as we lean on Him, grow closer to Him, and truly appreciate all that He has given us in each other, and in friends and family like you.

We love all of you!

Because of Him,

The Canterberrys

Dear Family and Friends,

The title of today's blog update is now the running theme of our lives.  And, I suppose that's as it should be, even when we are well.  No one is guaranteed "tomorrow"... only today.

My friends, we do not know what will happen at this point.  Tom's condition --- and hence, frame of mind --- is fluctuating daily.  This has been the case for the last few weeks, which is why I haven't written.  I have had an extremely difficult time wrapping my mind around the possibility that nothing we do will ever work, and that Tom could lose his life.  My heart and mind have been on an emotional roller coaster, until today.  I'm not sure what it was about today that made me feel more stable; I guess things just got calm enough so that I can think about what to say.

First of all, I always have hope, and I never stop praying for a miracle, or petitioning for one to occur.  However, all of you need to know that I have surrendered myself to the Lord's will.  This does not mean that I have surrendered myself to Tom's will, which changes from day to day (and sometimes hour to hour), depending on how bad the pain is.  Instead, I have surrendered to the fact that the Lord might choose to take Tommy.  Although I would miss him forever, and miss him horribly, I would definitely choose to continue finding meaning in this tragedy.  In the meantime, I have decided to accept the role that I have been given, which is to honor God in the midst of heartache.

The question is:  how will I do this?

I have thought long and hard about this question, and have wrestled with the options.  I can certainly give in to Tom's requests to simply be released to the Lord, and this is a request I will certainly honor, but only if the Lord acquiesces.  The Lord obviously hasn't done this.  Thus, I am left with a choice about what to do with every day of life that He decides to give Tom.

Well, "Live It!" might be your first response.  I agree... but sometimes it's not that easy, especially when you're a caregiver.  You are stuck between giving an ill person everything that they want in order for you to be perceived as kind and loving; or, doing what you know will help them feel better, and wind up being perceived as an unkind and unloving person.  Just so you're aware, I haven't gone "Nurse Ratched" or "Annie Wilkes" on Tommy.  Your friend and brother is in loving hands.  However, I need to make day-to-day decisions about what will improve the quality of Tom's life, out of a sense of humaneness and responsibility.  At times, I'm met with opposition.  I'm strong enough to handle it, but it's disappointing anyway.

So how is Tom?  At the moment, that question has to be asked every day.  I arranged for bisphosphonates treatment at the oncology clinic (not something we were offered, but I requested it) in order to strengthen his bones and help with bone pain.  I am praying that this new treatment will enable him to get off of hospice's cocktail of heavy-duty narcotics so that his system can eliminate properly and regularly.  Hopefully, this will help him regain his ability to eat.  Right now, he is fairly thin, and for most of you who know Tom well, it would be fair to say that he is emaciated.  Is he eating?  Only fruit, unfortunately.  He will also drink kombucha, which has B vitamins.  However, what he really needs to be drinking are highly-nutritious and easy-to-digest Reliv shakes.  He refuses these for now, but they are the only things that are nutritious enough to keep him from going into a complete decline.  For those visiting:  refined sugar feeds cancer, so any requests for products containing high fructose corn syrup, refined sugar, and other strange chemicals should not be granted.  I realize it's hard to say "no" to a sick person, but it's difficult for us (as his family) to watch him wretch uncontrollably after this type of food is consumed; my son listens to the sounds of agony, as do I, and I also have to clean the ensuing mess.  The same goes for food that is extremely rich or greasy.  People who grant these requests out of love are usually not the ones picking him up off the floor in the aftermath of ingesting these foodstuffs.  Requests are usually given in response to the question, "Is there anything I can bring you?"  If you can refrain from asking that question, it will be helpful.  Also, our fridge and freezer are both full, thanks to the kindness and generosity of many.

For those who are curious about the medical, more technical side of the question, please know that Tom's liver levels have stabilized, his key blood components are all within normal range, his vital signs are normal (good blood pressure, temperature, and pulse), and the only pieces that are out of whack are the alkaline phosphatase and calcium levels in the blood.  This latter is a result of the bone metastasis.  His oxygen level is between 90 and 95 percent.  Not much more that I can report on this front.

In closing, I am preparing for the worst and hoping for the best.  Either way, a long journey lies ahead.  For now, I am living in the moment and I'm devoted to Tommy's care; I cannot say whether or not he will recover, but we are allowed to petition our Heavenly Father for a complete, and yes, miraculous, recovery.  If this is not in His will, I have made my peace with that.  In the interim, it is essential to honor God's gift of Tom's life by making sure that it is a life of love, quality, and purpose.  As far as I can tell, this means devoting our care toward the goals of recovery and healing, even if this does not ultimately occur.

Please keep us in your prayers.  Tom needs prayer for healing, as well as a deep sense of knowing that he is God's child, and is therefore a person of value, regardless of his current debilitation.  TJ and I need prayers for strength, endurance, perseverence, and hope.

We are OVERWHELMED by your daily love, visits, phone calls, and emotional support.  You are indeed the most wonderful friends and family that anyone could ever ask for, and we will be forever indebted to you for your love to all of us.  We welcome you into our house at any time.  Just call up, and our house will light up with your wonderful friendship.

Thank you for everything!

Love,

The Canterberrys