The Final Post

Readers Note:  This post has links back to past posts. We don't interrupt the flow by calling them out.  Look for red text or underscores for hyperlinks if you're interested.

Brain cancer is...

...signing off.

Above you see Darrell and Andi Guillaume in our spot on the point at Big Bear Lake.  

We took the top picture a few days before Darrell was diagnosed with Glioblastoma Multiforme (GBM) in 2016.  When we took that shot, we had no idea what was lurking in the left hemisphere of his brain.  We headed down to the Emergency Department, and then we chose that pic for our first blog post.

The bottom picture is us on our recent stay, five long years later. It's fitting that the blog end where it started, we think.

Those are photos of two of the most fortunate people we know.

Imagine having the worst thing in your life happen one day--a bolt out of the blue.  Then imagine dozens and dozens (hundreds!) of good, good people immediately surrounding you and lifting you up with their love and support.  Imagine them letting you cry.  Imagine them not giving advice, just listening.  Imagine them letting you talk about things that don't matter anywhere else (like how many times a day you eat sandwiches or the misdirected hype of a banana stand).  Imagine them opening up and sharing their perspectives and stories with you.  Imagine living a life with absolute certainty that you are not alone.  

Now get this:  That's real.  All of that happened to us.  

Maybe our outer shells look different in those contrasting photos, maybe not that much.  But who we are on the inside has certainly changed in five years' time.  We have learned so much about so many things.  We've had some of the very happiest days of our lives. We have had adventures that we never anticipated.  We have known great love.  From you, Team D.

Today is our 1827th post.  Out of those nearly two thousand posts, here are five that we think sum up the story thus far:

• 2016  The Wave (3/10/16):  This was the year of living desperately, the year of Life 2.0.  In this post, you told us that we saw before us was indeed breathtakingly terrifying, and you told us you wouldn't let us face it alone.
• 2017  Post Traumatic Growth (4/30/17) After the initial shock, treatment, and adjustment, we learned that it just might be true that sometimes what doesn't kill us can make us stronger.  And more observant and appreciative.  And better humans.
• 2018  So This is First Class (8/31/18): We learned to live like there's no tomorrow...at least once in a while.
• 2019  Darrell's New Role: G'Pops (10/08/19): Enter Nova B., stage center.  Three years after diagnosis, we truly appreciated that we were receiving a second chance at dreams that we thought evaporated the day of Darrell's diagnosis.
  
• 2020  Won't You Be Our Valentines? (2/14/2020):  We discovered joy on a type of adventure that was new to us: long car trips and national parks.  Post-treatment anxiety had ruled out this type of adventure until then. This post shows that, wherever we go, we take you with us...in our hearts (Valentine's Day pun? Ugh. True nonetheless.)
  
• 2021  Virtual Super Bowl Stroll (2/07/2021)  We all took on a challenge together, with Team D's typical heart and humor.  We all showed our fortitude and ability to connect and succeed, no matter what the world throws at us.
  

We know that for every event in our lives, there have been hundreds in yours.  We've been through a lot together in the last five years, haven't we, Team D?

We hope that we have shown that we strive to learn, to wonder at the world, to be open to the human experience and the stories of pain and happiness of the world's people.  We hope we have shown that we appreciate the fact that there's always another perspective, another way to view things.  Another way to do things.

That's why this, the 1827th post, is our final one.  Today is Darrell's five-year cancerversary. By some estimates, Of every 100 of his agemates diagnosed with GBM on Darrell's diagnosis date, 94 are gone. 

Dang, Darrell.  That's quite an accomplishment!  Welcome to a new era:  Long-term survival with GBM.

The blog--your reading of it--has meant so much to us.  We do not have the words to express our appreciation.  The only way we know how to face GBM is with the blog.  But a new era deserves a new approach, say Captain D and First Mate A.  We embrace whatever is next in this totally unpredicted, uncharted adventure. 

It feels like time for us to stop looking down at the keyboard and to look up for new ways to stay connected, loved ones.  If we keep filling our time with the familiar, we have no time for new approaches and ways to converse.

You've been listening for five years. That is a lot of effort on your part.  Thank you. 

Goodbye, blog.  What do you want to do next, Team D?

 

(Readers Note:  We plan to leave the blog up, so you can still see old posts, just in case you need a little time to adjust to the idea.  Ha ha. You can always search "brain cancer is...andrea guillaume"  Also, you can always find us on email or cell. Let's keep being together! Keep those ideas coming!  Keep us in the loop of your lives!)

Today’s Bloom

Here's a hibiscus from Kristin's backyard.  OOOooh!

A comment on the  "Today's Bloom" feature:  We started posting daily blooms 10 months ago (3/15/20) in an attempt to find little bits of beauty in the world when we were all newly sad about COVID.  

That's how the feature started, but then we discovered that Matisse's words were right:  "There are always flowers for those who want to see them."  Maybe you'll keep looking for the day's bloom?  Maybe you'll share it with others? Maybe with us?