"Rock On"!

Michael passed away in our Los Angeles home on Friday, February 8, at 1:48pm. With him were his mother and sister Kathleen, our friend Doug and I. He was surrounded by love and his exit from this life was just the way he wanted it – PDQ! On all levels, he was ready to go.

I was truly never looking forward to the day that I would be logging on to Michael’s blog so that I could communicate messages to the world about this wonderful human being, but today I find myself carrying out all of Michael’s wishes. And although I may not write as creatively and beautifully as Michael has when creating this blog, I am going to give it my best shot by expressing only some of the wonderfulness that this man shared with everyone.

For Michael, the glass was always full and he lived a life of possibility with a commitment to living life like it’s never been before. When you have that kind of intention, it opens you up for a life of excitement and one full of adventure. And I must tell you that my 11 years with Michael was just that! -- exciting, adventurous, never boring and always evolving! Michael believed in learning about the world by seeing it and his passion for travel got him to many far-away places that I am fortunate to have shared with him.

Michael had this unique ability to love that came so deep from the bottom of his heart that it almost created this angelic glow when he smiled. With his beautiful blue eyes and his bright smile, it melted the hearts of many, including mine. I have been forever blessed to have been loved by him because I truly believe you only get one love that can shake you to your core or one where there is a meeting of the souls so that each can love and support one another in order to grow individually and together as a couple. Michael was an extremely generous man who would give anything just to feel love in return. Michael believed that love has the ability to conquer all.

After Michael’s last entry right before he left Pittsburgh, he wrote much about his family and I wanted to post a response to it, but time slipped away once he returned to LA. When comparing my family to Michael’s family, it’s like the Sopranos visiting Walton Farm. The Emery family, which consists of many nieces, nephews, aunts, uncles and great aunts, is one of the most loving, caring and simple families I have ever come to know. They’re intelligent, they’re witty, and they are family in the truest definition of the word. It has and always will be an honor to be in their warm presence.

Even in Michael’s last hour, he shared his great sense of humor with us once again. With his body failing and weak, we had to move him from a recliner to the bed so that we could lay him on his side in order for him to breathe easier. At that point I was afraid it would be my body that would be failing and weak, so together with Doug, Kathleen and I, we picked up the thick blanket underneath Michael and on the count of three we flung him up onto the bed. Happy that he did not have to get out of the chair and onto the bed in the traditional way, once he landed on the bed, with his arm in the air and fist clenched, he blurted out, “Rock On”!

And so to our many friends, family and readers of this site, I hope that you have found this man to be as inspirational as I have and that you’ll always remember that no matter whatever you may be presented with in your life, please remember Michael's philosophy and his final words of wisdom: Live, Love and “ROCK ON”!

"No beads for you!"

I had checked into UPMC at 6am, the IV's were in my arms and I was completely prepped for the procedure in which they would be delivering millions of tiny radioactive glass beads into my liver. Then the lab work came back indicating that my bilirubin level was too high to move forward. Just two weeks earlier it was well within the acceptable range, as were all of the other blood indicators of liver functioning, so no one was expecting to see that kind of jump. The cancer is now beginning to effect my basic liver functioning.

Alas, my friends, it appears that I have run out of acceptable medical options. My quality of my life remains high despite the news. Other than some minor side effects that come and go such as liver pain, bloating and fatigue, I am still quite able to enjoy life. And that is exactly what I am doing. Every conversation I have with members of my family is filled with love, humor, intimacy, candor and gratitude for the time we are spending together. Every word is precious. Every sentence brings us closer through shared memories and dreams. Every minute together makes me so glad that I was born into this family that is more drawn to laughing than crying, smiling than resenting, and acceptance than drama.

I leave first thing in the morning to fly back to Southern California to be with my family there: Bobby, Conan, Chloe and my friends. Just like my family in Pittsburgh, the time spent together with them lately has been very fulfilling. I am incapable of small-talk with people who are unable to speak with me on my terms, and this seems to work well for everybody. Sometimes I feel like I am glowing with a warmth that wraps around everybody near me. It feels good and there is nothing sad about it. I just wish I knew what the trick was as to how to be in touch with this feeling more often throughout our lives so that I could pass that information on to you. The simple things in life are part of the key; being present and aware of how special each person and each moment truly is.

Your Mama

The Theraspheres radiation treatment is scheduled for January 24 at UPMC. Almost the entire surface area of the right lobe of my liver is now wrapped with cancer. The smaller left lobe appears to remain unaffected. The strategy is to deliver a knock-out punch of radiation only to the right lobe and leave the healthier left lobe untouched. It is a one-shot deal; not the typical series of daily radiation stretched out over weeks that most people imagine. The irradiated glass beads are delivered to the liver through a catheter inserted in the femoral artery of my upper thigh. The procedure itself will feel no different than the chemoembolizations that I have had, except this time they are filling the arteries of my liver with radioactive beads instead of chemo drugs.

After the treatment, there will be one night in the hospital for observation. The day after my discharge I plan on returning to Los Angeles, from that point on my treatment and care will be taking place out there. In my commitment to savor every moment of every day of health, I have decided that I would rather do my savoring in the sunshine. In LA, I will be surrounded by my partner, our two dogs, and all of the friends that have been part of my life during the past 18 years that I have lived there.

My mother will be flying with me to Los Angeles to help me through the post-radiation fatigue I will be experiencing. Bobby and I live in a downtown LA loft; he has already put up a movable room divider to provide more privacy to the living room where she will be sleeping. It is a great space with lots of light, ceiling-to-floor windows, and city views, so she will not be roughing it too much...and a child needs his mother at times like these. I am certainly no different.

CT Scan results

My CT scan results from yesterday show that there has been progression of the main tumor to a size of 14x12cm from 7x5cm eight weeks ago, plus significant new growth throughout my liver. The portal vein which was partially blocked has now been completely closed off by the cancer cells.

The chemo drugs have had no effect so I will not be doing any more of that, but there is a treatment that I am considering that involves delivering millions of small, irradiated glass beads, called Theraspheres, to the blood vessels that supply the tumor. I will be going to UPMC tomorrow for a test that will map the blood vessels of my liver to determine if I am a candidate for the procedure. Since Theraspheres uses radiation instead of chemo drugs, there are few side effects other than some mild fatigue.


The crazy thing here is that I still look like the picture of health, and up until a few weeks ago I could even say that I was totally symptom-free. I have a mild, persistent twinge under my right rib cage and my energy is down just a little. My doctor continues to look at me as a medical marvel because of the lack of symptoms at this stage. So, I will just keep on doing what I am doing. The tour continues - next stop is Atlanta to visit my brother and his family. After that, I am looking forward to settling back into my life with Bobby in beautiful Southern California and seeing more of my friends.