Day 345, Year 9: The Heavens are Crying
Date: Wednesday, October 1, 2014
Weather: Serious Rain ALL Day, Winds from the NE, High in the Upper 50’s F
Location: Quissett Harbor, Falmouth, Massachusetts

The rain has been coming down all day long and after we got the news from Mark’s CT scan, I knew that it really wasn’t rain. The heavens are crying, and so am I. The news we got was not what we expected. In fact, it was as far from what we expected as it could possibly be. Mark’s cancer has metastasized to his liver and is also advancing in the abdominal cavity. It is aggressive and moving quickly. So he needs to start chemo again as soon as possible. But the really hard to take news is that there is no longer any chance for a cure. He will be on chemo for the duration and the length of that duration is even harder news to take. Dr. Kwak told us that the average person in this situation might have from one to three years to live and there is no way to know where Mark fits into that timeline. I can write this but I cannot talk about it without completely losing it. I guess I should have faced this before now, but I was just so sure that Mark was going to beat the odds. Never once in the past three years have I ever thought of life without Mark. In fact, not in the past 40 years have I ever had that thought. Dreams go on forever. Right? I guess not. So I will continue to write and not speak about this until I come to some sort of agreement with myself as to how life should continue on from here. Basically, Mark needs to make that decision and we’ll do whatever he wants. His oncologist and radiologist at Mass General desperately want him to be able to sail south this winter. Our whole conversation with them today was about how he might be able to get chemo treatments in various places as we sail. Mark and I are just not sure how this might work, so we need time to figure it out. In the meantime, he’s hoping to start chemo treatments here ASAP.

There are so many of you that have been hoping and praying for Mark and we so appreciate all of the positive energy you have sent his way. So now, just keep it coming. Mark truly feels like he has lived his dreams and he is at peace with whatever happens. His only hope now is to not stop ‘living’ his dreams as long as he can. He doesn’t just want to sit comfortably and get chemo treatments. ‘Living’ to him means sailing. So I did chuckle once today when I told him that I was sure there really is life after sailing . . . but I don’t think he heard me. And if he did, I’m sure he didn’t believe me. Both of us want to keep living aboard Windbird, so we’ll just see how this goes.