I am one of those guys who lived life on a track that just went forward. The same routine just moving along and well, if it didn’t happen to me directly, then oh well it’s just another one of those things.
My first experience with cancer was in the late 80’s when my father was diagnosed with Non-Hodgkin’s Lymphoma. The VA took care of him and he survived the treatment and never had it again. Well then, back to my life; this had been one of those things. I heard once, not long after my father was diagnosed with cancer, that an ex girl friend had breast cancer. Yes you guessed it -sorry for her but it was another one of those things. Shame on me…SHAME on me for every hurtful thing I did and every spiteful word I said just to get a reaction during an ugly break up.
The oldest of my sisters is Vicky, who I was never really that close with. I always said it was the age difference, or again, just one of those things. I always thought of myself as kind of a black sheep, the baby if you will and well, if all my siblings are jealous of me, then so be it! Yeah shame on me for not reaching out more. We would see each other at Sunday dinners. I got along with them and my nieces and nephews, but it was just another one of those things; and so on with my life. Vicky was married twice and had four children; one of which took his own life. I heard about it and just went on with my own life. She was diagnosed with breast cancer in the mid 2000s and had a mastectomy. She lost her battle with cancer the 5th of February 2008. She was 60 years young. She convinced the youngest of the three sisters, Valessa, to get checked. 
Valessa was diagnosed with breast cancer only a few short weeks after Vicky. Valessa also had a mastectomy. She and I were also not very close. We had a selfish spiteful mother who sat in a court room and when was asked if she wanted custody of Valessa she said “NO I have enough of my hands full with Penny and Denise”. I know how I felt when my wife and I had to go to Georgia to get my dad out of the hospital bed my mother left…no…abandoned him in. Even with that experience, I can’t comprehend how Valessa felt that day in the court room. She had, like me, a wall or shell that could not be broken down by anyone or anything. I went to Valessa’s wedding and did the whole family thing, but quickly went on with my life. She and I got closer when I was taking care of Penny. Maybe she learned I truly did care, had grown up, and had my proctologist find my head. When she would let her guard down a little, I realized she was one very smart and funny lady. We did share a sense of humor and we believed in our principles. The last few years of Valessa’s life, her husband had several girlfriends and would go spend the weekends with them on a motorcycle that Valessa paid for. Valessa believed she was to stay by his side no matter what and she stayed there until the end. We share that, we stand fast in what we think is right and will give the biggest fight to the end. Her cancer metastasized to her liver, bones, brain, lungs, and stomach. She had…I forget how many blood transfusions. At one point they thought she would need a bone marrow transplant and I was all ready to give her mine if I could. Towards the end, we found out that when Valessa went on the ventilator, despite her tremendous suffering, her husband chose to keep her on life support when he should have let her go home to God. While this was going on, we learned her husband was in financial ruin, there was no life insurance policy, and Valessa’s coworkers had donated 12 weeks of paid leave. Did you see what we saw going on here? When he was finally convinced to take her off the ventilator and she passed, you know he called his girl friend for a ride home and stayed the night with her!? Valessa lost her battle with breast cancer the 17th of September 2010. She was the youngest of the three sisters at just 54 years young. Valessa convinced Penny to go get checked.
The first time Penny was diagnosed with cancer was not long after Vicky and Valessa were diagnosed. Penny was in the middle of a divorce from her last husband. She needed a place to live and coincidentally, her treatments would take place at the hospital a few miles away from our home. My wife and I didn’t have a whole lot of money, but we had a lot of love and a spare room. We insisted she move in – and she did! After about 4 years with us and beating cancer, she moved into an apartment right up the street. For the first time in a long time she was happy. She was on her own, living her life how she wanted.
Penny and I were the closest. We shared the same mother but not the same father. My mom and dad took custody of her when she was young. She even took my father’s name and yes…wait for it… became Penny Moneymaker. Penny raised me. As a matter of fact, there aren’t too many memories as a kid that doesn’t have her in them. One of my fondest memories is a day we spent at Great Falls in Maryland with her boyfriend who was leaving for Vietnam the very next day. He was sending his checks back to her so she and he could start a life when he returned. No, he did return, but to no money because our mother spent it all. They never got married. Penny spoke of how much she loved him until the end. I still have pictures of that day, and the fondness of that memory with her, that day, in that place; that is where I spread her ashes.
Penny didn’t live an easy life. She had two sons. Her youngest son stopped talking to her years ago and her oldest cared more for the rich grandmother who gave him everything. He didn’t want to be involved with Penny, let alone her care for her, until he learned she had a 401K. Despite having two grandkids, which she absolutely adored and rarely saw, the oldest son didn’t even bother to call her this last Mother’s day. She sat in her apartment, alone, and cried. She was devastated. Everything was always about him - he lost his grandmother, and he doesn’t know if he could handle watching his mom go through it, and his business this, and whatever that. It didn’t matter what you said, he’d twist it around to make it about him…about his suffering! You know, he wanted her ashes and still has not come and picked them up. Oh well! I did what she asked me to - find a place to put them - and I did - OUR place.
I remember that a year or two after my father was diagnosed with cancer, Penny sent her oldest son to Georgia for the summer to live with our father. At the end of the summer Penny, Vicky and her two daughters, and I went to bring the oldest son home. While down there, my two sisters and I got into a big fight. We fought mostly about sending Penny’s oldest son down to live in Georgia when our parents were barely living on just social security and money I was sending down. We didn’t say a word to each other the 1200 miles back… if I only knew - shame on me.
The first time Penny lived with us, she missed only two days of work throughout the entire course of her treatments. All the while the 18 to 20 something’s would not show up or want to go home sick. Go figure workforce 2000. I digress. Penny not only became sisters with my wife, but she became best friends with a 70 pound fuzzy golden retriever we rescued. His name is Rocky and the two of them were thicker than thieves and inseparable. My wife and I would come home most days and find the two of them snuggled up in her bed. He would give us a look like “What…you weren’t here”. I think even today he still misses her the most. We became closer and I was her “brat” all over again. Why a “brat”? When she took care of me growing up, I ruined her summers. So she called me brat! What are baby bothers for? Penny beat cancer the first time and about a year later, she was at work when she had trouble breathing and went the ER. They ran tests and she went back her doctor - it had returned. This time she was stage four with it in her lungs, brain, liver, and bones. My wife and I begged and begged for her to come home but she wanted to stay in her own place. It gave her time to spend with her grandkids, when they were brought by, and time to spend with Valessa. I used up just about every hour of leave I had so I was around for Penny while she was getting chemo and radiation. When I reached my very last leave hours, I learned one of my hardest lessons; I learned I couldn’t do everything.
Let me explain. I am of a generation of fire fighters that are tough and strong; we are the ones who come and help in times of need. Whether it is for you or for one and other, we carry the entire load; no one carries us. “I’m all my sister has right now I can’t fail her.” So to ask for help from my friends and coworkers was horrifying. But I broke down and asked for help. They covered 3 months of shifts for me. They even had a charity kick ball tournament where I got some of the money. By the way, I stopped by the tournament to say thanks and ended up on a team that was short of players, and we won. I could hardly walk back to the truck. My wife didn’t want to play in case she got hurt. Ironically, I had to take my wife to the ER later that same night because she was knocked over by the dog and dislocated her shoulder. She should have played kickball instead. Anyway my shift put up with my moods, my lack of eating or even eating meals with them, my lack of work load and just me being the normal cuss that I am. I will never ever be able to repay that loan and won’t have to because that’s what we do for each other. It’s not who we are, it’s what we are. Now I love going to work every three days just to be with them for 24 hours.
I feel guilty for the times that I felt as if “why am I the one to have to take care of her.” Not only to Penny, but to my wife who did more work than I did - that’s the truth. I felt guilty for feeling bothered to have to get up off the couch and go to the store to bring her a gallon of milk. Shame on me. This woman couldn’t get her electric bill paid by a government program that she was entitled to. She was on food stamps and couldn’t get her just dues of social security payments, and I complain about having to get my fat butt of the couch to get a gallon of milk for her. I don’t deserve any praise; I need to see my proctologist again. We did the best we could to take care of Penny and Valessa with no leave, more financial burden and two of the biggest blizzards in this area’s history with one of us, my wife needing shoulder surgery. Well the day came when Penny told me “if I have to do one more round of chemo with out a few weeks break, I can’t do it marshmallow”. She called me that, and when she did she was in a rough place.
I’m a fire fighter and well, when things are going bad we need to do something even if it is the wrong thing to do; we need to act. What could I do? I couldn’t save her life as she did once for me. You see, when I was about 5 of 6, I drank charcoal lighter fluid. I came running into the house begging Penny for a glass of water. She smelled the fluid on me and didn’t give me the water. She called for help and they said it was good she didn’t give me the water. It could have flushed it through me killing me. So now here I am - what do I do? The only thing I could come up with was LOVE her like she loved me and give her the best possible quality of life I could. I treated her with all the compassion a person needs in a time like this, but also treated her like a person and not an invalid. This is what I mean - if she needed a drink and asked for help, I got it for her. If she wanted to get up and get it, I didn’t tell her “no no no you stay put I got it. You are too sick to do that”.
So we took her to her last appointment where the doctor went over her latest scan. Penny had gone through two rounds of chemotherapy and also had radiation to her brain. The first round of chemo shrunk about 50% of the tumors by 40%. The second round of chemo was not successful. The tumors had multiplied. Her liver was covered with lesions. It took everything I had not to lose it in front of her. I have medical training and knew how bad it was. I had to walk out of the room to play it off. “Well the treatment didn’t work” her oncologist said, “so here are your options Penny. We manage your pain and get Hospice involved or we can try another cocktail.” With just a second or so of thought she said she was ready for Hospice and wanted to just live out her life with us. Man - not a tear from her - just fortitude. She was ready to take what was meant to be. So she finally agreed and we moved her in right away. A short time had passed and in it, my wife was sleeping in a lounge chair because of her surgery and Penny stayed most of the night on the couch next to her. She stayed on the couch because the tumors in her lungs were so large, she could not lye down flat and get rest in a bed; it was too much for her. She stayed in the awful sitting position of sitting for hours at time. We saw Rocky get up on the couch and position his body against hers in such a way that it would take the pressure off her and she would sleep and finally rest for a few hours or so; probably until he couldn’t take anymore and had to get up.
Well one night Rocky was lying on the bed with me and around 2 or 3 in the morning, out of the blue, he jumped straight up in the air, look down the hall way toward the living room for a second or two, and then hopped down and went on his way. I went back to sleep. Meanwhile, Penny was having a diabetic emergency. My wife realized that Penny’s sleeping behavior was off. When she checked Penny’s blood sugar, it had slipped to 70; critically low for her. My wife rushed to wake me and we called 911. All the while, Rocky in her lap, I jumped into fireman mode. I kept talking to her, trying to get her to respond to my voice or touch. About that time the paramedics arrived. We had to put Rocky outside to keep him out of the way. He was distressed and unhappy about being separated from Penny. When the paramedics were ready to transport, Penny’s blood sugar had dropped to 40. They gave her a shot of D50; we call it the “magic shot” because it usually snaps a diabetic right out of it – sort of like when a hypnotist snaps his fingers. She came around for a second, looked at me, and went right back to nearly unresponsive.
My wife rode to the ER with her. I made a call or two and went right over. When I got to Penny’s side, I took her hand and she would not let go. As I talked to her, she would squeeze my hand and blink her eyes. I told her a lot of things those few minutes. I told how much I loved her, how proud of her I was, but most of all how happy I was her “brat” and she was my sister. I asked her if she was ready to go home to be with pop, and if she was, there was no shame in it. The doctors put her on some strong pain meds and moved her to a room. After a while, when the meds kicked in, she went into a catatonic state. She would not blink or anything, I knew she was still there and it was the meds, but I was too weak. I see patients in this state all the time at work. I struggled and struggled but I was too weak. I talked to my wife and I told her it wasn’t Penny and that I couldn’t do it I was too weak. I couldn’t stay in that room any longer. I fought and fought for the strength and couldn’t dig it up anymore…I didn’t stay. Shame on me.
I got home to Rocky and he sat in my lap for while. We just sat. One of the calls I made was to my cousin Carrie, she is as close to a sister to me as any. She was at the hospital from over an hour away in what seemed like minutes. I kept trying to call my wife, but her battery went dead. I got a call from Carrie, who was at the hospital with Penny and my wife, and she tried in vain to get me to come back. I would not. Carrie then showed up at the house to get a thing or two for Shannon. I told her to make sure she had Shannon call me; I needed to see that she was ok. Carrie tried one more time to get me to go back, and without success, she returned to the hospital. About an hour later, I was sitting on the couch with Rocky’s head in my lap when again he jumped straight up and looked at me with the most puzzling look. A minute or two later I thought to myself that my wife hadn’t called me. So I called her and Penny had just passed…literally right before I called. Again Rocky knew…Rocky knew. Shannon later told me what happened after I left the hospital.
Amazingly, Penny’s oldest son managed to show up. After several hours of Carrie and my wife waiting, holding her hand, encouraging her to let go, Penny’s oldest son decided he needed a break. He walked out to have a cigarette and Carrie and my wife chose to have a special moment with Penny – just the three of them. They held her hand and stroked her face letting her know she was heroic and brave and loved and that it was ok to let go. They told her she had two loving sisters and a dad who was waiting to show her the way. In that moment, Penny started taking her final breaths. Carrie and my wife in hand, tears flowing down their faces…in an instant, Penny’s face turned an iridescent pearly pink, then light purple, then light blue, and she was gone. They told me it was like watching her soul lift away from her body. Penny died the 9th of June 2010 and she was 57 years young.
A while has passed since Penny’s passing and I have run the whole gambit of emotions, and I will. The biggest of them are: disappointment, guilt, and anger...at me. “Should I have stayed?” Shame on me, why didn’t I? Some call me a hero for things I’ve done as a fireman. I am most ashamed of myself, for that was the biggest, cowardly moment of my 44 years of life. This woman lived graciously, elegantly, fought heroically and valiantly and she lived with cancer, and I was too busy being a colossal ass to be there for her as she took her last breath. Penny, my dear sweet Enny, please forgive me… PLEASE forgive me. I got a tattoo to honor her while she was alive. It is on my inner left arm near my heart. It’s of the pink breast cancer awareness ribbon with a large penny in the center. I honor her with that and I’m proud that she got to see it. But yet I disgraced her love and I will live with that regret and blame only myself until my end. One reason I took her into our home was my father. He would not only have expected it, he would have demanded it. He loved those three girls as if they were his own. He was willing to take Valessa that day in the court room. He had two girls that he had to walk away from after his first marriage; I never did get the whole story why. But he loved my three sisters all his life. It was nice to get closer than ever with them. Penny and I were like two young kids again there for a while. I would do things like roll up the wrapper from my straw and throw it at her and she would find it and throw it back. I will miss those silly games. Will I just go back to that forward track and keep moving on?
Now my first hands on experience with a breast cancer walk was in the early 2000s. I was working up-county driving an ambulance when we got called to a stop to take walkers having heat emergencies to the ER. I thought “wow that sucks for them but hey, I got hired for overtime to work the walk again tomorrow”. SHAME ON ME.
Now it is Thursday, October the 7th 2010. Some guys start showing up with port-o-potties and putting them in the back lot at the station. My shift was told we would be a stop for the walk on Friday…didn’t faze me…on with my life. The next morning the equipment can showed up and I decided to hang around and put up traffic cones in the lot, and show the ice guys were to off load, and so on and so on. I saw that our electronic message sign out front had a fire safety message on it, and by luck our office administrator was still there. She is normally off on Fridays and only she can change the sign. I went to her to get the message changed for the walkers. I was standing out side looking at it when a van pulled up and 6 of the most energetic women pop out. They where Mollie, Lara, Gail, Melisa, Mary, and wouldn’t you know it, I don’t remember the other wonderful lady’s name. (The voice in my head…you are such an idiot Marshall). I told them who I was and asked if I could hang around and help, and with out hesitation I was there groupie. We got things set up and waited for walkers. I told them of my sisters and asked out their stories. We seemed to hit it off pretty well, and they kept asking me what I was doing Saturday and if I want to come out and help. At one point I went and made some small signs to try and get the cars and trucks passing by to honk their horns, and made it my mission to get all of them to do it. It seemed to help the walkers, they took pictures of my silliness, and I met a lot of good people.
I was shown a sign that a team put on a tree close by for another team, called “Penny’s Loafers.” I got to meet Penny and here team later in the day and told her of my sisters and showed them my tattoo. They where floored, but wait, this isn’t supposed to be about me, it’s about them. Penny, the lady the team was for, is a long term survivor of breast cancer and I felt like we were friends for 10 years and now for life. I was out there for the walkers. I wanted them to forget about the next miles they had to walk. But they kept coming up to me and giving me hugs and kisses and wishing me well for my sisters. Don’t get me wrong I was digging the hugs and kisses, it’s not like I’m George Clooney if you know what I mean. The day came to an end, we packed up said our goodbyes, more hugs and kisses and again an invite for Saturday. I told them I would do my best I had plans; which were to go to a BBQ competition and see some friends and a shift mate, and eat BBQ. Yeah Like I need BBQ, more like a treadmill-a-q. So the hour ride home, I pondered about the day and the invite. I called Shannon and had her meet me for dinner and told her what I wanted her and me to do instead. She agreed and I went on a shopping spree at the only place open that late at night…Wal-Mart. I found some things to make a goofy outfit, pink shoe laces, pink bandana, and this pair of pink pajama pants in just my size – extra, extra husky man. The next morning I knew where to be but not what time to be there, so I loaded the bike and headed out about 6am. I got to Germantown around 7 and found the “Grab and Go” site empty, so I headed to find the walkers. I knew they would be starting the day. I rode up and down Rt. 118 blowing my horn and waving to encourage them on. I kept this up for a while and kept moving with the group. I was just hoping for more hugs and kisses…yes I’m a pig. Anyway I stopped at station 29 and put on my Wal-Mart made outfit, jumped on the bike and went back to the “Grab and Go” site. The ladies were setting up and about cried when they saw me; no not because they were happy to see me, but look at how I was dressed. Fat guy on a bike with pink pants all cut up, that would make anyone cry. I helped them set up and took some pictures, and that’s right - yet even more hugs and kisses. I’m really starting to like this walking thing! We had some down time so I jumped on the bike and ran the route again all dressed up and I think it helped because this was the walker’s longest day and we all know about those Montgomery County hills. I went back to the “Grab and Go” site and got ready.
We set my bike up at the intersection. I turned on some 70’s tunes and we went to work. The walkers had this long hill to get up to our location, so we yelled, sang, and danced to cheer them along. We directed them to the port-o-potties and water. We had a blast. We stayed out there all afternoon. I almost got run over by a jerk in a motor home, had a dead battery on the bike, and got a bit sunburned. It was all worth it! The motivation these walkers have is unexplainable. You can see the pain, torture, determination, and drive on their faces. They keep putting one foot in front of the other and keep walking right out the door. I found out later that motivation for some walkers came from me! They would see and hear us and get their tenth wind. When a Marine takes a beach head and the bullets and shells are flying by and this is the last place anyone wants to be, that Marine keeps pushing on; not because he was ordered to, but because he owes it to the man next to him. When you see fire fighters dying together and you hear they wouldn’t leave without their brother, it’s not to be heroes. We do it for the fire fighter next to us, and they do the same. These walkers push on not because of the money they raise; they take another painful step for the person walking beside them. Even more so for the person who has cancer, has had cancer, will get cancer, or lost that fight… to honor them not themselves.
So that night on the ride home I had time to think. I have not had this kind of passion in a long time and it is refreshing. I have signed up to crew in D.C. for 2011; I hope they use me on my bike. I can use the love for my motorcycle to do a new love I have found. The next day, Sunday I had to work, and on the way to the station I saw the signs for the walker’s route and it goes right by the station. I got to work and as soon as I could, I made a small sign telling the walkers that I loved them. I added a picture of me from the day before, a small plastic fire helmet and ran, like a school kid after the ice cream truck, across the street to CVS to get pink balloons. I saw one of the safety guys on a motorcycle and offered him a cup of fire house coffee. That’s really strong; he told me he had ridden all night from NY to get there. I placed my sign by the side walk for all to see. The sign also had my name on it, so if by chance any of them wanted to look me up on face book they could. The sign seemed to be a hit and many pictures of it showed up on face book. I later found out my sign had a spelling mistake…it didn’t have spell check. As the walkers were walking by, I would stand outside and clap and wish them well. Soon my shift was out there as well and within minutes the pictures started. I found an old MDA banner and made a bigger sign on the back. The sign told them that they were brave and strong and we loved them. My shift pulled out the Truck and Engine and we hung the banner between them. Not long, the front ramp was full of walkers wanting a picture with all of us. We had to make an assembly line to get them all through. I watched my shift for a few moments and notice how much fun they were having. 
You see we are going through a rough time right now; there are furloughs and money cuts. The budget is tight and some politics are going on were we work. We have a fire chief that is more worried out his image then us also. To see my shift with such big smiles on their faces, and running around made all that bull shit wash away. This is why we became fire fighters and we were happy for a change. I met a lot of women and made it a point to ask who they were walking for. I heard everything from family and friends to themselves, but a big reason was for people who would get cancer in the future. They didn’t have it or really know anyone; they just wanted to be involved. As the morning wore on, they came and went and got fewer and fewer. 
I was replacing my small sign with one that was spelled correctly when a woman in about her 60s said hello, and we talked. Her name was Linda. She was very tired and winded and still had quite a ways to go. I heard my LT yell “walk her to the D.C. line”. I grabbed my radio and off we went. We walked and talked and I kept making her drink. I would get a wink here and there form the ladies on the sweeper bikes, they would push the walkers along and kept them on time. I tried to keep Linda walking and talking to keep her mind off the walk. We stopped here and there so she could catch her breath, but she was trucking right along. She tripped and had a small fall and I caught her as best as I could. She didn’t get hurt and we laughed that I trip her. I got her to the rest stop at the D.C. line and found out the sweeper girls were just getting ready to put her in a van because she was falling behind when I came along. We walked and talked the 18 to 20 blocks to the line and she was able to get back on pace with the rest of the walkers. This is what I have come to love, making it about them not me. Later that night I had an invite to go to closing ceremonies. I ran a request up my chain of commanded and it got approved. 
I took one of our small pickups and headed downtown. I got to the Washington monument about 30 minutes to the 2000 walkers walking into the grounds. This gave me time to hang a small banner on the truck telling them again how wonderful we thought they were. I later had as many walkers as I could sign it, and it now hangs in our firehouse! I had a perfect parking place for the procession came right by me. The closing ceremonies lasted about an hour to which in the end I got to see the gang from the “Grab and Go” and a lot of new friends. But the best part of all was… yes more hugs and kisses. I had a moment when they raised a flag signifying the walk was over and the water falls started. I couldn’t hold it back because all I could think of was my sisters. I can only hope and pray that for all the bad things I did and said to my sisters over the years was washed away in the end. I hope I was the best brother I could be and that they knew it. I would have taken all my sisters’ cancer if I could, they didn’t deserve it. If anyone should have felt all that pain for things done in life, it is me. I really wanted to do better for them. I will finish my tattoo and wear them for as long as I live. I will not let a day go by where they are forgotten. But most of all, I’m promising them this; Susan G. Komen walkers have a saying. “Everyone deserves a lifetime”.
I plan on finishing my life time living theirs. I’m going to get involved with this cause for them and see it to the end. I’ll do my best for them and all the others who have dealt with this horrible disease to do what I can. Even if is just helping one walker a couple of blocks. Look out walkers you are going to see a lot of Vicky, Penny, and Valessa through me. I can’t begin to tell you how much this has helped with the starting of the healing process. I will always feel guilty about some things, I think that is natural. I can only blame myself and have no regrets about other things, and I have to live with that. I am good with the fact that towards the end I did the best I could do, and most of all loved them! I still do! I can only look forward and honor them with each passing moment. These last few days I have meet a lot of brave and strong people who not only share my journey, but can point me in the right direction also. Not to mention, they have obliterated that wall, and derailed that track. I am forever grateful for this 3 day walk and I hope I have the wisdom and strength to give back 1000 fold what was given to me. I’m at the end of my career as a fire fighter, and I have been pondering my next move. Maybe I’ll go drive one of the tractor trailers for the cure, that way I can be at the all.
I leave you with this - Vicky, Penny, and Valessa, I love you from the deepest parts of my soul, and I hope and pray that we will be brother and sisters in our next life.
