Cancer - Family - Rage - Sorrow

[NightTrain]

Yesterday I got a call from the hospital from my cousin : Uncle Mike had just died.

Isn't it weird how the most painful emotions bring forth the hottest tears? That's a pretty odd thought to have pop into your head from the cold emotionless part of your brain that's always analyzing things, but it did. And those tears were hot. They're still hot, but not nearly as much as yesterday.

Uncle Mike was a very special guy, by far my Favorite Uncle, and that's among some very great guys that are my Uncles. He was in the Navy, saw quite a bit of action in Vietnam on riverboat patrol, and was on one of the pickup missions for one of the Apollo capsules. I can't remember what Apollo mission, but it was a good story and it's cool to hear 1st hand accounts of such historical events.

He and my Dad were very close, which might explain why he was my favorite Uncle with stories and insights as to who my Dad really was - some things you can't grasp on your own as a young man, and only when you mature a bit can you really see what is important in life and what qualities make the difference from a good man to a great man.

We flew Mike up here from Wisconsin almost every year to fish for salmon and run around the State exploring new areas. He always commented on how we take the breathtaking beauty around us for granted; and he's right: We do. It's good to be reminded to smell the flowers on the way, and simply stop once in a while to be grateful for what we have.

We didn't last year due to medical hardships he was going through - he had a Widowmaker heart attack that almost took him out, but he persevered. His mental toughness and iron will pulled him through more than a few dicey situations over the years and this was no different. He bounced back and a couple weeks ago I was planning this next Summer's activities with him. Mostly we planned to hang out up the river and build the new shop for ATVs and snowmachines and both of us were excited about it. Lots of fishing was on the agenda, as always.

3 weeks ago, he started having trouble breathing. The docs found a bunch of liquid around his lungs, and drained a startling amount of fluid out. Lots of X-rays and CT scans ensued, and found that he had cancer in one lung. Cue the oncologists and gear up for Chemo. Not a big deal, he's been through this before. A week ago it changed to Stage 4 cancer... this was a very aggressive cancer. Worse, but beatable and his mental toughness would pull him through.

3 days ago, they started the first round of Chemo, which knocked his strength into the dirt. That stuff is evil.

At this point, the docs began throwing in the towel. They quickly convinced his kids that this battle was useless and began the whole "it's more humane to just let him die" routine.

Now confronted with his doctors and his kids who were no longer providing combat support, combined with Chemo beating him up from within, his condition worsened rapidly as he mentally threw in the towel.

Being isolated up here, I didn't know any of this. My other Uncle called me and told me what was going on and we agreed that we had to get him somewhere for treatment where the Docs would give him hope and actually try to save him... this certain death bullshit wasn't acceptable. Especially in light of multiple other "no win" battles that he'd already fought and won.

Right about this time there was a post in a Family Group that we have on Facebook, saying he's a goner. Go ahead and start sending flowers and cards. I was probably a little harsh with my response to that, because it wasn't the cancer killing him, it was the defeatist attitude surrounding him. He's doing the heavy lifting, you fuckers, all you need to do is stay positive and help him fight!

So I called Mike in the hospital and told him this defeatist attitude he was surrounded with was killing him. I talked up our plans for this Summer and as soon as Alaska was mentioned he picked up strength and began speaking more clearly as the oxygen roared in the background on the phone. That's what he needed - hope and someone in his corner urging him on. He agreed to go to Cancer Treatment Center of America, the closest one being in Chicago.

Before we got off the phone, which I was in a hurry to do so we could get things rolling, he stopped me and thanked me for all the fun times and trips up here. He told me to be sure to tell everyone up here that he loved them.

So about 2 hours later as I was coordinating with another Uncle to get him to CTC over in Chicago, I got the call from my cousin. He was gone.


It's damned hard for me to restrain myself right now. I want to rage at his kids - my cousins - for not supporting him. Their failure to do so killed him as much as the cancer did. And those white-flag waving docs in PoDunk Wisconsin need to be force choked.

That would do no good whatsoever and would only serve to create an irreparable rift in the family, and probably wouldn't even make me feel any better by venting my anger at their betrayal in his greatest hour of need.

If I'd been down there, it would have been different. I know it. I was trying to get a ticket down to WI when I got that call, so that was too little too late.


I don't even really know why I'm writing this, other than trying to work out the thoughts and emotions that grip me.



Going to miss wonderful days like this, just sitting & talking, watching the trout feed and the Eagles flying by. And especially his kindness and love for all of us, watching him teach my kids a better way to tie that Fisherman's Knot.

He never got a chance to ride in the new boat. I know he would have loved it and I was really looking forward to him driving it.

RIP, Unk.