One Year

In many ways it seems like yesterday and in other ways it's been an eternity.

Gretta and the kids are doing well. As you can imagine, the last year has been a tough journey. Besides the emotional toll, there was pregnancy, birth, and returning to work for Gretta to manage.

One of the most difficult tasks was removing Conan's clothes from their house. We cried and laughed. (The shoe count was HIGH!) The hardest job for Gretta was ordering the gravestone. It will be installed in the spring,

Gretta is busy. (that is an understatement!) Between an infant who is crawling (and putting EVERYTHING in her mouth) and a 5 yr. old who is inquisitive and active, she also has a demanding job. She juggles it all pretty well!

Emily Grace Dalton

Emily was born at 6:40 pm on Saturday, January 24, via C-section. She weighed 6 lbs. 1.2 oz. and was 17.5 inches long.

Here she is with Henry when she is a couple days old.

This was taken with Gretta as we got ready to leave the hospital.

and Ellie (one of her cousins) took this picture today.

Saying Goodbye

I don't have an official count, but I know there were a lot of people that came to pay their respects last night; the family appreciates all the kind words and the hugs that came with them.

We listed three groups on the memoral suggestions, but if you have another charity or group you would like to give to in Conan's name, please do so.

The University of Iowa Palliative Care Team worked hard to get the nausea under control, but they also spent a lot of time talking about what Conan wanted out of life - however long or short that might be. The Care Team also spoke to Gretta about Henry, and what he did and didn't understand, and how to help him. I remember from one discussion we were to encourage him to ask questions and talk about Conan. He had a lot of questions this week, but he seemed to understand more than we expected.

The Clarissa C. Cook House and the staff do extraordinary work. While they were focused on Conan's medical needs, they were very concerned about the emotional needs of the family. They also gave suggestions and information for helping Henry. I don't know what Gretta would have done without them.

The Conan Dalton Memorial fund will be used for the children's future educational needs. One of the first things Conan said to me after they found out Emily was coming, was about a second college fund. As I have 2 children who have finished college, I chuckled and said no matter what you save it won't be enough. But I should have told him the encouragement you give them to work hard in school and appreciate the chance to do so will be more valuable than the money. And in many ways that's what this account does - it says education is important.

And finally Kicks for Conan. This event will be held on December 27 & 28. The funds raised will be used for medical expenses. The event organizers are also planning to make this an annual event to honor Conan and the contribution he has made to the soccer communty. In the future, the plan is for funds to go to brain cancer research and other areas of relevant need.

Yesterday I had Henry in the car with me for the ride from day care to the funeral home. He talked about who was going to be there, and then he said there will be a lot of red eyes. I wondered what he was talking about, and then he said because people will be crying. I said yes, people will be sad, but they are happy too because daddy is in heaven. Henry told me not yet, not until tomorrow. So I'm not sure where Conan is right now, but Henry thinks today is the big day for him. 

So like so many have said, rest in peace.

Today's Newspapers

Today in the Argus: Dalton remembered for putting others first 
(correction: Baby Emily is due in February)

And in the QC Times: Dalton Passed on His Passion for Soccer

The obituary should run tomorrow.

Gretta is coping. She is not sleeping as well as she would like, but we are keeping her fed. Lots of people have brought food (and offered food) or offered assistance with jobs and we are taking advantage.

Last night I tried to summarize and post some of the many comments, stories, and pictures that are coming in. It is astounding. And overwhelming, in a good way. The best gift you can give is to help just one person the way he helped you.

And, to end on a laugh, let's remember he was only human -- I hated it when he said "if you're not early you're late." (and now I'm late for bed!)

He is at Peace

Conan passed away this morning. (I thought I had posted on the blog earlier, but I forgot to save it.)

Gretta was with him, laying beside him. It was very peaceful.

I will post information about funeral arrangements when I have them.

Quiet Morning

Conan's breathing is more labored today and he is not as responsive as he was yesterday. We have told him he put up a good fight but he can rest now.

We want him to know he is loved and will be missed, but Gretta is strong and we will all be here to support and care for her and the kids in the coming years.

Be Full of Thanks

In the midst of all the worry and sadness this fall, it is still important to take time to be thankful for what we have been given. In our lives we have been given much, but in Conan's fight, he has been given much too.

In these years, he has enjoyed fatherhood and his marriage to Gretta. He has sold a business and started a new job. He has touched the lives of countless children through his soccer and basketball activities.

If you have a special story about Conan and you would like to share it with Gretta, Henry and others, please leave it in a comment or send me an e-mail. I will add them to the blog for everyone to treasure.

These are the things to focus on now. Yes, we are losing him, but at least we had him.

I Think We Have Already Had Our Miracles

I was asked last week if I thought a miracle could save Conan. I gently answered no.

The more I thought on it however, I wondered if we haven't already had our miracle, or maybe more than one.

In 2008 a stage 2/3 tumor was growing and it was large. At one appointment I went to with him, I saw the scans; the oncologist in Moline had a long face and kept wringing her hands. And I didn't understand how he was able to walk or talk; the tumor was so large it had to be blocking brain function. Conan didn't carry a picture of that scan with him and I don't think there were many people that ever saw it. Gretta's sister Jennifer helped him get to Iowa City and the team there said we can do something with this. It was close to home, and offered hope where there had been little.

How many miracles did that year take? What if Conan had never met Gretta? She has a great job with good insurance benefits. She is a wonderful caregiver. The surgeon that operated in Rock Island had a steady hand. Gretta has a sister in Iowa City who was able to help them find a path. During Conan's month of radiation, terrible floods ravaged Iowa City and the surrounding area. Was it the hand of God that kept Conan and his drivers on the road and out of the floodwaters?

In 2010, Gretta and Conan were blessed with the birth of a son. Many of us considered Henry's life a miracle. Henry may have been the spark that helped Conan the next year.

In 2011, there was new growth on the dead marble that was left from three years before. This time, it was considered a stage 4 tumor. It took longer to recovery from surgery, but once again, the cancer was forced to retreat.

And again, a mere human being was digging around in Conan's brain. A doctor can take a piece of the skull out, poke around in the brain and yet not stop your heart or lungs. Was this the miracle? The tumors stayed away for three more years. Maybe this was one more.

In June of this year, Gretta found out she was pregnant. Surely this was a miracle.

In late July of this year we were not so fortunate. Stage 4 cancer is tough to beat -- when it comes back and in three places it is a fierce opponent. And at least one of those places was inoperable. His doctors contacted other cancer centers to see if anyone had something that might be helpful. And when the tumors continued to grow, and began to block the CSF drainage, Conan began to weaken. A possible drug trial was located, but it was only a Stage 1 trial -- a long shot at best; radiation was also proposed, but he was just too weak.

And yet maybe we did get a miracle this year too. Conan fell at their house in October. He could have fallen down the stairs and hit his head. Gretta could have tried to stop his fall injuring herself or the baby. He could have fallen and injured Henry.

There used to be a plaque hanging on the wall at Flannery's house (They are neighbors of Mom and Dad's and my godparents) that I always liked:

Footprints in the Sand.
One night I dreamed I was walking along the beach with the Lord.
Many scenes from my life flashed across the sky. In each scene I noticed footprints in the sand. Sometimes there were two sets of footprints, other times there was only one.
This bothered me because I noticed that during the low periods of my life, when I was suffering from anguish, sorrow or defeat, I could see only one set of footprints, so I said to the Lord,
“You promised me Lord, that if I followed you, you would walk with me always. But I have noticed that during the most trying periods of my life there has only been one set of footprints in the sand. Why, when I needed you most, have you not been there for me?”
The Lord replied, “The times when you have seen only one set of footprints, my child, is when I carried you.”

He has Battled Long and Hard

This is more than I have written other times for a number of reasons. Conan and Gretta are, for the most part, private people. There were many struggles in the past six years that they didn't talk about much and really didn't want to share. And so I tried (and am still trying) to respect that.

Visitors are still welcome -- small groups and for a short time. Sunday, Gretta was in the room when I arrived with Henry. Conan knew right away that Henry was there and reached for him. Henry is too young to understand much of what is going on, but that also means he is not afraid of it. Henry knows that Daddy will not be coming home. We are encouraging him to ask questions and we do not press any long answers on him. (Henry calls the Hospice House Daddy's office -- I suppose hospice and office do sound alike.)

Most people that met Conan didn't know he had such a serious health issue. One of the things he enjoyed most, his time coaching, continued. In the fall of 2008, he coached the HS boys soccer team in the midst of chemo. In 2011 he had surgery in July and was back on the soccer field in about a week. Even in October, less than a week after being told the chemo wasn't working, he traveled with the club soccer team.

But, each surgery has taken a toll on his brain. For the most part, only those with him frequently noticed, but there were little things that indicated brain damage had occurred. Each round of chemo (2 full ones in 2008 and 2011, as well as the partial ones this fall) has damaged his liver and kidneys. It affected his daily health to a degree he rarely shared; he did not want everyone to know just how great a toll this disease had taken.

Conan didn't want his life ruled by cancer and he fought hard to make sure it wasn't. He hid much of his battle from us, but he lived life, doing the things he enjoyed and spending time with the people he loved.

Visitors Still Welcome, and a word on Gretta

Conan is still aware when people are around, but is not very responsive. Two days ago, when Gretta walked into the room, he greeted her right away, but that isn't what usually happens.  We are still asking that you limit your visit to 10 minutes and 2 people.

Gretta is now 28 weeks pregnant. They found out she was pregnant about 5 weeks before the scan that revealed new tumor growth. Because of her pregnancy history, and her age, this is a high risk pregnancy. During her 22nd week of pregnancy, she was having sharp pains in her abdomen and so her doctor recommended modified bed rest: off her feet as much as possible and home from work.

Gretta has been the force behind Conan's treatments for years, that was a role he was never comfortable taking on. Luckily she is a pharmacist, because who else could keep all the meds straight! While she wasn't the one to drive him to all his appointments (she kept working when ever possible, which maintained insurance benefits, without which they would really be lost), she scheduled appointments and spent countless hours on the phone with doctors, nurses, billing offices, and the insurance company.

And, while it is a goal for Conan to be present for the baby's birth, a higher goal is for Gretta and the baby to be healthy. She can't assist with Conan's care much because she isn't supposed to lift more than 10 lbs., but she is still the one talking with doctors and nurses, and trying to get him to the best place he can be.

So if you see her, make sure she is in a recliner. Ask her if she took time to eat lunch. Get her to laugh.

Thursday

9:00 am
Conan is more alert this morning and asked for food. It's amazing how such a little thing brings such relief and makes all of us smile.

1:00 pm
With assistance,  Conan took a short walk late this morning. He has eaten lunch and is getting a shower shortly.

3:30 pm

Conan has a bed reserved at the Illini skilled nursing center. He will probably be transported there tomorrow.

5:00 pm
One more update for today. Conan felt good enough to watch some TV this evening. The room had been dark and silent prior to this.

A Setback

Over the last 10 days, Conan has been experiencing some dizziness and it was getting steadily worse. On Wednesday he saw the neurologist in Iowa City and one of the tumors is pressing on a duct that allows cerebral spinal fluid to drain. (The result is hydrocephalus, and this causes pressure on the brain.)

On Monday afternoon he will have an EVT surgery. Essentially this makes a new place for that fluid to drain and it should ease the vertigo. He will be hospitalized for about 3 days post op.

I will post updates as I have them on Monday.

***Update: Surgery has been rescheduled to 8:00 am.

More info . . .

After additional discussions with the doc, Gretta gave me more info.

They didn't start the temodar right away because they wanted to make sure it wouldn't disqualify him for a potential study. It doesn't, so that will start this week and continue for 8 weeks. At that point they will scan again.

Meanwhile, they are still in discussions with other med centers to see what new treatments are emerging for recurrent brain tumors.

Not Good News Monday

Review of the latest MRI revealed that this chemo wasn't working. The tumors were not smaller.

Big hit, but the doctor also said this is not the end. UIHC staff called around for second opinions and has made some suggestions.

Also, these tumors are still small and were found because docs were looking with quarterly MRIs.

Conan is restarting temodar, the chemo he had in 2008 & 2011.

Conan and Gretta are still sorting through the news and looking at options. Continue offering your support as best you can.

Surgery Scheduled for July 8

Waiting these last three weeks has been very tough, but getting the news they were hoping for was a huge relief.

Surgery will be Friday in Iowa City (time TBD).  The surgeon's plan is to remove the new growth and the remaining 'old' part.  Notes from September 2010 put the dead cell stuff at 5 mm x 5 mm x 5 mm (I looked at my tape measure!); in June 2011 it was 7 mm x 7 mm x 9 mm. This still seems pretty small and so we have hope that the surgeon will be able to execute his plan. (After all this isn't rocket science!)

Conan is expected to be in the hospital until Monday.  In August, he will meet with the oncologist to hear the chemo plan.

If you see Conan around town, ask him for a bracelet.  He is hauling around a box of brain cancer awareness bracelets: No One FIGHTS Alone!  All the support we are receiving from friends and family is appreciated and Conan knows he is not alone.  So continued thanks and appreciation for all your thoughts and prayers.