MSI Press Blog

  Times were tense. I was caregiving for my husband, dying from cancer and on chemotherapy that required multiple trips a week to a distant hospital, my spina bifida daughter in a city a half-hour away who had lost her caregiver during the days of covid, and a CHARGE Syndrome adult son living at home -- and trying to run a business at the same time. The son tried to help out as best he could with his own care, but he did not always have the skills to do so. To wit, the scene above that ensued when he tried to help out by making his own breakfast -- one that at least brought a moment of levity into a too-tense life. Speaking from personal experience, the spouse (in this case wife, but it really does not much which spouse is pressed into the role) who ends up as the caregiver for a cancer patient is in a no-win situation, emotionally and physically. The role of spouse is to support the spouse and to navigate through life together, IMHO. That complicates the matter of caregiving. The two

Watching the always-obese Carl waste away from cancer (though he still had quite a bit of poundage when he died) evoked terribly deep feelings of helpless and frustration. We were losing the fight to keep Carl healthy, and Carl was losing the fight to stay alive. Some days, it all seemed so pointless.  One bright light that we experienced near the end was that perhaps some good could come of Carl's experience. Yes, there is good that comes from sharing experiences, such as through Cancer Diary. But there is something more: whole body donation so that researchers can learn more and medical students can be trained.  Carl wanted to leave that kind of legacy and, the father of a neurobiology professor who had needed cadavers for her training, wanted to help out medical students become better doctors, and if some research into cancer of unknown primary, of which little is known, could shed a little more light on a dim subject, then he was all for that, too.  We researched and found an o

  When Carl , MSI Press LLC graphic designer and co-founder, was dying from cancer of unknown primary , which has a very grim prognosis and no routinely accepted treatment, he wanted only hope -- that he would be in the 1% that has been reported to survive CUP at least for a year or more. He steadfastly avoided talking about death with his children, friends, and me. He resolutely did not want to talk to a professional of any sorts although he was willing to talk to a priest friend. Unfortunately, he was semi-comatose and near death before even one meeting could take place, given his frequent unplanned trips to the ER and regular trips out of town for chemotherapy. (The oncologist made an educated guess as to the possible primary cancer and gave two drugs, one a wide-sprectrum which generally does not work well because it is not targeted and the other targeted against his best-guess that the cancer started in the GI tract.) So, when the priest was finally able to connect with us, it was

Sula, the parish cat at Old Mission San Juan Bautista, is quite a famous cat. Google her, and you will find lots of pictures and references. She has appeared as the lead article in Guideposts Magazine and in A ll Creatures Magazine -- and she has written six books of her own, including one in Spanish. The excerpt below is from one of her earlier books, a beloved one that was illustrated by the late Zhenya Yanovich, a Russian artist of growing esteem. The 12 Days of Christmas The twelve days of Christmas refer to the period extending from Christmas to Epiphany. The song you just read and maybe even sang in your head is well known both to Catholics and to those not in the Church. It is a secular tribute to something sacred, but many people do not know the sacred part. Do you know that there are three feasts during the 12 days of Christmas? They date from the fifth century and all focus on the incarnation of the Word of God (Christ) as the baby Jesus, human like us—well, like

  Carl dozing with his beloved cat, Intrepid both died of cancer, were cremated, and share a vault in local cemetery's columbarium Carl was often dozing during the last months of his life, perhaps as much as the last year. He had had uncontrolled sleep apnea and restless leg syndrome for years. For the former, her refused treatment; the CPAC and his beard battled for dominance, and his beard won. RLS was tames with medicine.  When Carl would doze off, I just assumed he was tired because he did not get adequate amounts of sleep. However, something else of which I was completely unaware was probably at work: dying. The dozing off became longer and more frequent during the last 2-3 months of his life, and during the last week, he moved from being mostly interactive to being mostly somnambulant. Carl dozed off and on during the day a lot even as much as a year before being diagnosed with advanced stage 4 cancer of unknown primary . Indeed, some of it was very likely a manifestation of

  Today would have been the 54th anniversary for Carl  and me. Last year, I spent it in the cemetery with Carl, as I did the year before. This year I cannot because I am in Bandung, Indonesia, but perhaps that is just as well.  On our 51st, he was alive, but not well. Three weeks earlier, he had fallen, been xrayed, and found to be in the advanced stage of cancer of unknown primary , with liver, lungs, bones, and stomach completely riddled with cancer cells, blood clots in his lungs, and his bones throwing off cells to create hypercalcemia, the reason he had fallen. It was a difficult time. We were just coming out of the covid months. We brought our CHARGE Syndrome son CB who had been living in group homes for 20 years home when they were not careful with protection from covid. At the same time, our spina bifida daughter, who lives about 30 miles to the south of us, independently, with a county-provided part-time aide lost her caregiver to surgery and no one wanted to take over, given

excerpt from Teaching and Learning to Near Native Levels of Language Learning III (Dubinsky and Butler)  Introduction of Keynote Speaker, HRH Prince Firas bin Raad of the Hashemite Kingdom of Jordan, by Betty Lou Leaver, Executive Director, CDLC               Because I have been a resident of the extraordinary Kingdom of Jordan since January 2004, it is a singular pleasure and honor to introduce our very special keynote speaker, His Royal Highness Prince Firas bin Raad of the Hashemite Kingdom of Jordan. His biography and international and cross-cultural experiences coincide very much with the international orientation of our audience today. Let me give you a few examples:   (1) He was born in Amman, Jordan, attended boarding school in New Hampshire, earned a BA in economics and public health in 1991 from John Hopkins University, an MA in international studies in 1993 from the School of Advanced International Studies at John Hopkins, and a Master of Public Health in 1997 fr

  Excerpt from The Musings of a Carolina Yankee by Wally Amidon. Alone in the Swamp Have you ever had a day that you would like to forget but that seems to come back at regular intervals in your life to haunt you? I had such an adventure a few years back. I can laugh at it now, but at the time, it really tried my spirit. I have two sons, Mike and Steven, who, I think, sometimes thought of themselves as Lewis and Clark because of the way they could navigate the woods. One day, they thought it would be nice to take me to their newly found hunting area. Now, things would have been different were I built more like a Chuck Norris or Sylvester Stallone, but I am built more for comfort than for physical exertion. The boys came by the house at about 3:30 a.m. to pick me up for the adventure. I should have known the day was going to be long when they told me to hop into the back of the pickup as there wasn’t enough room for the three of us in the front of the small truck they were driving. I l