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By the time March rolled around this year, my wife, our four kids and I had been living in my parent’s basement for about five months. And while I had landed enough writing projects to keep us afloat for a while, nothing felt very certain.  Well, one thing felt certain: as long as I was trying to write for a living, we would never have enough security to get our own place.

So we just kept on living life. During the day I went to a cafe to write and Maile did her best to be a mom in a basement.  This is not easy (the mom part – the cafe part is relatively pain free).

Then one day it hit me: we had to take another leap. Problem: I was getting tired of leaping.  It seemed that no matter how many times I exhibited my faith in God, he kept asking us to take another leap.  This was getting kind of old.

Yet there was also something exhilarating about it.  Especially since every time we leaped, solid ground kept appearing under our feet.  None of it really made sense.  But a part of me was starting to enjoy the excitement.

This is where I learned a valuable lesson – you have to get out of your basement. What’s your basement?  What’s keeping you confined simply because your scared or worried? Would a change require too much faith, too much self-belief, too much risk?  We could have lived with my parents for a long, long time.  I suppose some day they would have kicked us out, but we could have really drug that on for years.  Then we got brave.  We got kind of stupid.  We decided to leave the basement.

So we got on the internet and found three places we liked.  The first one smelled like dog.  Wait – it didn’t just smell like dog, it smelled like five or six dogs had lived there, on their own, decorating the house with their hair, and in the end blowing themselves up in it.  The second place was really cute but the rooms were tiny.  Our queen-size bed would have had to be shoehorned in.

The realtor could sense our disappointment.  She said there was one other place – it was a three-bedroom, kind of small but in the country.  At first we ruled it out because it was a double-wide mobile home – Maile’s mom thought the next storm would sweep us off the face of the planet.  We almost didn’t go look, but then we thought, what the heck.

It was perfect.  The house was fine and in very good shape, but that’s not what we loved.  What we loved was the fact that it was surrounded by fields and woods.  There were two acres for the kids to run around on.  A garden.  A stream running along the back yard.  And included in the rent was a huge barn, and I could set up my office in the workshop above it.  No neighbors for miles (or at least none that we could see) – we had lived in townhouses for the previous six years, so we were excited to have some space.

One problem.  Someone else was interested.  And they probably had a real job.  And real income.  And when asked for annual salary figures, they probably didn’t mumble something along the lines of, “Oh, I don’t know, maybe mmmmfffpfff a month.”

So we had found the place we wanted to live, but we had to wait.

To read the very first segment of this story, which tells about how Maile and I made the decision to move from Virginia to Pennsylvania (and into my parent’s basement) click HERE.

October marks the first annual Fireside Writer’s Conference in Gap, Pennsylvania. You can check out the details HERE. The following are the top 10 reasons you should consider attending:

1) Writing is so often accomplished in isolation – this will be a great opportunity to spend a night and a day sharing ideas and experiences with other writers.

2) Four meals are included, and the menu will be entirely put together and prepared by the famous chef Maile (this has not been discussed with her in great detail so I would appreciate if you would not mention it should you see her in passing).

3) The funniest guy I know, Bryan Allain, will be sharing his wisdom on how to get your blog from 50 – 500 followers.  At last check he was nearing 800 followers, with 6000+ unique hits per month.  The conference will also roughly coincide with the release of his new e-book (am I allowed to mention this Bryan, or is it still top secret?).

4) Ever find it difficult to get one hour of uninterrupted thinking time in?  Come to the conference and you’ll have the opportunity to wander through a beautiful, natural setting, contemplating life and writing.  Depending on the neighboring Amish farmers, this may or may not include the wafting scent of freshly spread manure.  I can’t make any promises either way.

5) Andi Cumbo will be speaking about the beauty and pain of honesty on the page, and how this relates to your identity as a writer. She’ll also be mingling with us for the remainder of the conference.  Where else can you go for this?

6) Sometimes we need to get out of our own little patterns of life, do something different, see the world from a different perspective.

7) Ken Mueller has more insight into social media than anyone I know, with a refreshing new vision for how we go about putting ourselves out there.  He’ll be talking about how a writer can utilize social media and stay true to their identity as an artist.

8) Smores.

9) A local bookstore will be offering some of the best books on writing known to man – the ones you usually have to order because they’re not in stock.  At the Fireside Writer’s Conference we’ll have some for you to peruse, and we’ll also make some time to talk about which ones have been the most helpful for each of us.

10) Pennsylvania in October is one of my favorite place-times on earth.

I hope to see you there.  If you have any questions, feel free to email me at shawnsmucker (at) yahoo (dot) com

Dear TV

I can’t believe it’s been six months since we broke up. So I saw you the other day.  And I have to admit: you were looking good.  I guess all the rumors I heard about you are true, the stuff people are saying about how you’re losing weight, working out, looking better in HD.  All that stuff.

I know we’ve been hanging out, but I don’t want you to get your hopes up.  The truth of the matter is, I’m using you for the World Cup. And now that England and the US are out, I think I’m moving on. That’s it.  There’s no chance of anything long-term.  I’m sorry to say it like this, over email, but you’d have to find out at some point, and I thought it best you find out from me and not someone else.

I know my kids are still into you, and that’s cool.  I don’t expect them to take the same view of you as I; after all, you’ve only ever really shown them cartoons and a few harmless Disney videos.  And sometimes when people split up it takes the kids longer to separate.

I still wish you’d stop hanging out over at my parents, but I’m learning how to deal with that.  And I wish you’d stop lobbying for more of my time – I’m pretty content now watching the occasional movie on DVD or playing Wii. That’s all it’s going to be, at least until January 1st, 2011 when I break out the box set of “Lost.”

Then we will have a lot of catching up to do.

Sincerely

Me

Noble or just plain dumb that . . .

– Mexico and Uruguay could have sat on the World Cup field for 90 minutes, since a draw would have ensured both went through to the next round. Instead, they battled out a 1-0 game.  Both still went through.

– I leave Panera after four hours, not because I am finished working but because I feel guilty for taking up one of their seats that long after having purchased only an iced tea and a cheese danish

– Bryan Allain shared on video his inability to spell any word with the letters “ph”  (this list does not include fone, faroah or filange – the devious “ph” has to be hidden in the word, I think) – full disclosure: I still cannot spell either of the words he misspelled.

– Tyler Stanton reveals his drink biases HERE

– Anne Beiler of pretzel fame shared a story about the time she tried to use carpets to get her car off of an ice patch. This didn’t end well, by the way.

– In her blog this week my wife owns up to dropping profanities while making pie crusts –  Homemade Pie Crusts: My Arch Enemy

And that’s the “Noble or Just Plain Dumb” wrap for the week.  Anything you’ve encountered recently that caused this question to enter your mind?

Why do I care so much when others don’t agree with me?

Why can parking lots bring out the worst in me?

Why do pastors on television, no matter what they’re saying, make me mad?

Why does my heart race and my palms sweat when I have a lively discussion with someone about a topic on which we disagree?

Why do I feel the need to prove someone wrong when they don’t see things the way I do?

Why is my goal to change their opinion? Why isn’t my primary goal to understand their perspective?

Why do I have trouble discerning the difference between my kids misbehaving or simply not doing things my way?

Where is my former college room mate/current psychoanalyst Jason McCarty when I need him?

I think modernity has created this environment – rightness outweighs empathy; confidence is overvalued; finding comfort somewhere between paradoxical viewpoints is seen as illogical and ludicrous.  We have pigeonholed relationships into this world view, unable to discern between people and ideologies.  We cannot have civil conversations about politics or religion because, instead of allowing ourselves to marvel at the multiple interpretations of which the human mind is capable, we find out what someone believes and immediately categorize them.

Liberal lefty.

Righteous righty.

Pro-choice equals life hater.

Pro-life equals legalistic condemner.

Traditional church equals dead church.

Emerging church equals shallow church.

Churched equals religious.

Unchurched equals immoral.

Republicans are indifferent to the plight of the poor.

Democrats are amoral.

And so we stay huddled in our own corners, lobbing rhetorical bombs, the anger intensifying.

Here’s a thought: let someone disagree with you today, and don’t let it affect your self-worth.  Consider listening instead of persuading.

“You can safely assume that you’ve created God in your own image when it turns out that God hates all the same people you do” (Ann Lamotte)

When’s the last time you changed your mind about something you are passionate about?  Never?  Ever consider that the odds you are right about EVERYTHING is probably nil?

Phew.  Glad I got all that off my chest.  Tomorrow will be lighter.  Promise.

As any of you who read this blog on a regular basis know, I love stories.  I think stories are the best way of conveying truth, beauty, love and are one of the few things left on this earth that can change us, I mean really change us at the deepest level.

This is the story of Brenda Boitson – she has been kind enough to let me share her story here.  If you would like to follow her continuing story, check out her blog HERE. Enjoy!

Kevin and I met online in June 2005. I got a mysterious email sent from my old high school personal website that only included a picture. That picture was of Kevin, and after a few emails back and forth, I figured out he didn’t know how to work email, but that he was cute enough to talk to-Ha! Anyways-so began the hours long phone conversations that went well into early morning and caused some very disturbing phone bills (just ask my mom!).

Three weeks into our phone conversations, Kevin’s father passed away abruptly from an angyna attack. It was completely unexpected, and devastating for his family. Kevin held his faith through it, and we bonded even more so through this terrible event. Soon after, we decided it was time for us to finally meet face to face.

In August 2005, Kevin came down to visit for two weeks, and we both admitted it was “love at first site”. The calls continued, and we visited each other as much as possible, although all long distance relationships are extremely difficult.

In April of 2006, Kevin came down to visit me in Montana where I was living at the time (I had moved from Lancaster in February of 2006 to Montana to explore). We were taking a walk along the Bitterroot river downtown, and he got down on one knee and professed his love and commitment to me. We were engaged, and life was roses.

*****

The last week in January of 2007, Kevin, his mom and brother came down to move Kevin and for our wedding. On February 3, 2007, we were married at New Danville Mennonite Church in Lancaster, Pa. We honeymooned at my parents (primitive-but comfy) hunting cabin in Wellsboro, Pa and Buffalo, NY. It was cold-did I mention we got married during a record cold week in Pa? That week’s average was around 10 F. Ugh!

*****

I introduced Kevin to the Atlantic Ocean on Memorial Day weekend of 2007, and he was hooked to ocean life and surf fishing! We went down to the beach for getaway weekends as much as possible. It was relaxing, and so much fun for us.

During our marriage, we enjoyed exploring around the East and just enjoying finally being with each other! We have discovered that we were each other’s perfect fit. We were a story that wouldn’t have happened, but for the grace of God, and invention of the internet!

At the end of June, 2008 Kevin Boitson, my husband of 1.5 years, developed trouble swallowing. He went to the Dr, who told him it was most likely an inflammation due to acid reflux and prescribed him prevacid. A week later, we left to travel to visit Kevin’s family in Winnipeg, Manitoba Canada.

During our trip in Winnipeg in early July 2008, Kevin’s inability to swallow properly increased immensely, leaving even just water painful to swallow. During our 1 week vacation in Canada, we placed two calls to our home physician who told us not to worry, just visit him when we got home.

We left a day early and arrived home at the end of the first week of July. The following Monday Kevin visited with his physician, who increased his dose of acid reflux medication and switched him to Nexium. He also scheduled Kevin with the gastroenterologist for an endoscopy to look at his esophagus the next week.

The next day, Kevin called me at work to tell me how painful his swallowing had become and that he couldn’t take it anymore. After several phone calls, I left work to take Kevin to the GI dr. at the local health campus. The nurse practitioner at the GI office seemed very concerned while taking notes about Kevin’s symptoms. 30 minutes later, we were sitting down with her and the Dr. discussing all the STAT procedures te GI Dr. wanted Kevin to have done: Chest Xray, CT scan, Endoscopy, blood work, etc.

The next day, Kevin had an emergency endoscopy which showed a mass of about 3 cm growing at the base of esophagus. He told us he was nearly positive it was cancerous, and sent the biopsy to pathology for examination.

While waiting for the biopsy results to return, Kevin was sent for a PET scan to see if any other parts of his body showed cancerous/active cells. The following week it was confirmed Kevin had cancer, but pathology was unable to identify his type of cancer. It was decided they would try surgery first, and go from there.

That Friday, July 25th, Kevin and I went to Hershey for an endoscopic ultrasound. The procedure was very painful for Kevin and did not go very well due to lack of sedation. The weekend following, Kevin’s symptoms and pain increased, and by Monday morning the 28th we were in the ER at Lancaster.

Kevin was admitted to the hospital after the ER visit where they told us he most likely had pneumonia and was running a fever. Throughout the next week and a half, Kevin was moved, moved and moved with more and more tests being done. He had another endoscopy done for another biopsy because not only Lancaster, but also Johns Hopkins hospital was unable to determine the type of cancer to then proceed with treatment.

While Kevin was in the hospital, fluids built up in and around his lungs and heart, and they were unsure of the source. Wed, August 6th, we were informed Kevin would be transferred the next day to Johns Hopkins hospital in Baltimore due to the possibly rarity of his tumor.

Thursday, August 7th, due to Kevin’s lack of proper breathing, it was agreed to put him on a ventilator. That afternoon, Kevin was transferred via ambulance to Johns hopkins hospital, after having a chest drain put in, and put on the ventilator.

Early in the morning on August 8th, the surgeon at Johns Hopkins decided that Kevin would most likely need an emergency esophagectomy due to a possible perforation in his esophagus. They hoped at the same time to remove the tumor, but the surgery had very high risks. That evening, around 8pm, when my parents and sister arrived, Kevin was taken into surgery.

We were able to get a medical emergency flight for Kevin’s mom to be here, and we all waited anxiously for about 7 hours until 3 am Saturday morning for the surgery to end. Kevin made it out of surgery, but they were unable to remove the tumor due to it attaching itself to other organs. They did biopsy it again, as they still had not determined the type of tumor.

Kevin remained on the ventilator for almost a week, when they finally took it off, and removed his catheter. The night before he was taken off, it was finally confirmed he has Angiosarcoma, a very rare type of tumor. Sarcoma cancers account for 1-2% of all cancers, and Angiosarcoma accounts for 1-2% of all sarcomas-roughly 100 people per year. With the location of Kevin’s tumor, running from the mouth to stomach, his tumor was very invasive, and extremely rare.

Kevin was on chemotherapy (taxol) treatment for 5 rounds and did ok. There is no cure for angiosarcoma, but it is known to respond well to chemotherapy. We prayed and trusted in God to shrink and disintigrate the tumor so we could continue on living a normal, happy, healthy life. Kevin had hoped to one day have his esophagus re-attached so that he could eat/drink again-something he missed dearly, but in order for that to happen, he would have had to be cancer and chemo free for 3 months. That was a very weak possibility.

Kevin was discharged from Johns Hopkins in early September, and after 3 weeks of freedom (and one last escape to Assateague Island together to fish), Kevin was back in the hospital for another week with GI bleeding issues and pain. He was discharged after a week, and suddenly after 3 days, Kevin developed an excruciating new pain on his left side. He was transported to the hospital, and within 1 day, he was on the ventilator, dealing with a horrible infection.

The night, after being placed on the vent, he had to be shocked for irregular heart rhythms and an extremely high heart rate. He was then put on pressors and heart-rate medication, and stabilized. 3 days later he was already off the vent and appearing much better. We were anxiously awaiting a transport to Hopkins, and that took a week due to their record number of admitions.

Finally, the following Saturday (late October), we got on the transport list for Hopkins. In the meantime, Kevin had remained fairly stable, but was still fighting these infections, and lacking strength. We arrived at Hopkins late on Saturday and adjusted to being in Baltimore again.

On Monday, we met with our oncologist, who told us the discouraging news that the chemo had stopped working and the cancer had spread to his abdomen and around his pancreas. Because of Kevin’s lack of mobility, he had also developed a blood clot in his lung. Unfortunately, due to Kevin’s weak condition, treatments were no longer an option, and we decided to go onto Hospice care.

That night, I spent next to Kevin on a chair, and noticed his breathing becoming increasingly more difficult. Early Tuesday morning, October 28th, Kevin went to be with his Lord and Savior.

I, Brenda, continue to live in Lancaster City. I work several jobs doing clerical work, sales, nannying, as well as freelance writing. My hope with this blog is to to encourage those with cancer, those who are grieving, and to generally give a voice to what is often left unsaid.

I am at a point where I am trying to move forward from just being Kevin’s widow and to rediscover the life I have left ahead. I hope that other Angiosarcoma survivors and patients will find me, and in Kevin’s story find hope despite our outcome. I desire for other young widows like myself to not feel hindered by society’s uncertainties with our situation, but to feel comfort that we are not alone.

Most of all, in writing, I hope to find a new hope, a new love, and a new desire for life.