The Seventh Summer

    In July 2004, I tripped running up the stairs and dislocated my right shoulder.

    In June 2005, Jack fell down the stairs and broke his right hip and right wrist.  My mother fell down in the bathroom due to a bleeding gastro-stromal tumor.  Jack had hip replacement and wrist surgery in Hays, Kansas.  Mom had half her stomach removed in Coupeville, Washington.

    In June 2006, Jack had his infected right hip hardware taken out in Wichita, Kansas.  In August my sister had debulking surgery for stage IIIc ovarian cancer in Chapel Hill, North Carolina.   In September, in Wichita again, Jack had the surgery to implant his new hip hardware.  In October in Denver, I had my ovaries and Fallopian tubes removed (bilateral salpingo oorphectomy) because of complex cysts which, fortunately, turned out to be benign.

    In July 2007, my sister and I visited Mom and John here on Whidbey Island.  We didn’t know it at the time, but Anne’s cancer would recur in September.

    In June 2008, I moved to Whidbey Island.  My sister’s cancer recurred again in September.

    May 22, 2009, saw me flying to Tulsa, Oklahoma right after the premature birth of my grandson.  After his month in NICU, he came home all hooked up to oxygen.  After five days visiting my son in Colorado Springs, I got back home to Whidbey on July 5.  Three weeks later I found myself in the air again to visit my sister in intensive care at UNC Memorial Hospital.  A five-day visit wasn’t enough, so I stayed with her until she died in October.

    In this short history, I’ve left out several of Anne’s recurrences of cancer and her multiple chemotherapy regimens.  I’ve also left out Benjamin’s open heart surgery, hernia surgery, treatment for infantile spasms, and his recent fitting for hearing aids.  I’ve left out John’s sinus surgery, Mom’s shots in the eye to slow her macular degeneration, her outpatient laser eye surgery, and my bouts with bronchitis.

    I’ve also left out why I feel compelled to record these six summers of medical crises.  That’s probably because I don’t know.  What keeps running through my mind, though, is this:  A June ago, my sister was alive and now she’s dead.  My grandson was critically ill but now he is healthy. 

    I hope to spend this seventh summer in remembrance of my dear sister and in celebration of my sweet grandson.  However, I hope to do both right here at home in Washington.