A Message From Dan

Hello everyone, this is Dan.

Earlier this afternoon Jess had a seizure. It was different then her normal seizures as it came on with no aura or preceding affects. She attempted to call me but was unable to use the phone until things had passed and luckily I was not too far away and got home quick to find her laying, unable to move, in the yard. She has been going non stop for the last few weeks and I feel this has put a strain on her. She always wants to answer every text, email, comment, and no human could possibly withstand that pressure. She is slowly getting better as we speak from napping, but needs to rest as much as possible. So, with that said, I am instituting a technological blackout. Most of you will remember me doing this in the past, but in case there is someone newer or does not remember, Jess will be refraining from blogging, texting, calling, emailing until she is feeling better. Or until she sneaks behind my back to do it anyway:). Jess wanted to make sure I wrote something so everyone would understand why she is not returning your messages. We have a good friend in town tomorrow, all the way from Texas, to cheer on the Seahawks vs Cowboys preseason game, and knowing her, I can't stop her from attending if I tried - however, it's imperative that she get as much rest between now and then. She's heartbroken that her running steak of no seizures has to start over, and scared that this seizure came with no aura, no forewarning. She thanks you for your patience, and is embarrassed to have to explain this situation. Thank you for your cooperation, and if you want to send her well wishes, feel free to do so on the blog. Also, even though you want to reach out in this moment with an email, text, or call, please hold off. The growing list of emails/texts/etc. will just stress her more. A comment on the blog is fine, but but other forms of contact put more of a strain of responsibility at this time. Thank you for understanding. I just want to protect her, Dan

After I carried her back into the house.

Katie "Crush" Campbell 1983-2016

This is a hard post to write.

There is the concept of death, and actual death, and there is a vast difference between the two.

Saturday evening, I was munching on corn chips, sipping on a margarita, listening to old stories at Dan's 20th high school reunion, when a friend shared that Crush had died. My pulse raced, everything froze, I went deaf, time stopped. In a split second I recorded that I was living, but more importantly, I alive, a luxury she no longer enjoyed. Shocked, I quietly excused myself, weaving through the hall to the bathroom for privacy. I sobbed unabashedly, not caring about the strange women who pretended not to see me. I cried for Crush because she had so much more life to live. I cried for her husband, and friends, and family. I cried for those who love her. 

If you're new to the blog, Katie "Crush" Campbell is a buddy that I met at a young adult cancer camp, First Descents. After rock climbing in Moab, UT, we kept in contact for the past two years, leaning on each other, laughing, supporting. We started a YouTube series this past year, Cancer Convos with Crush & Coconuts. It was short lived, and fun when we started, but it was emotionally exhausting, and eventually it fizzled out. We wanted to inspire and share the nuances of life as a young adult cancer patient - a world most don't see. But, with our rigorous health demands, we simply couldn't maintain. And, even though the series ended, we remained friends, with the final text message arriving just Friday night, several hours before her death. 

I really don't have anything eloquent to say, nothing to make this heartbreak any easier. I'm numb now. Confused. I think I'll always be at a loss about death; I can't even try to understand the concept. 

I recognize the world that I live in. I know that I am in a subgroup of the population that is at a much higher risk of death. That death is expected, but, somehow, that doesn't make it any easier.

I mourn for my friend Crush. I mourn for her soulmate Andrew, who graciously sent a personal email to me to make sure I was aware. I can't imagine his grief, his pain. 

Crush had a sense of urgency the whole time I knew her, but I never got the feeling that it stemmed from diagnosis, but rather her diagnosis only intensified it. She made things happen. She had an expanded world view, she had seen suffering and cared about the human condition. I have no doubt that she would have continued to change the world, given the chance. 

Crush was able to sneak off a book toward the end, which she felt was her legacy. It's available on Amazon. I believe that her contributions, which are many, will connect her spirit to souls all over the world. She was/is one of the most determined, disciplined, curious, joyful, thought provoking people I've ever known. 

A Letter From Dad

My dad emailed yesterday, after calling in tears. He is deeply moved by all of the generosity, and compassion, and felt compelled to share his feelings on the blog. I love him so much, and am happy to oblige!

Hi Jess, 

Humility to a new level!

Greetings to one and all, my daughter has graciously allowed me to interject some thoughts on her blog. This is prompted by the results of the GoFundMe (instigated by some wonderful friends of my little Cricket).

Bonnie and I just returned from an arduous trip. It was difficult, but full of beauty. The goal was to procure medicine for Jessica in another country, a country that is extremely poor. The beautiful souls we met, who helped us, did it with joy in their hearts, but not much more.

Then, when we returned, we witnessed what has happened with Jessica's GoFundMe and I about fainted. As I scrolled down the donation list, I could not hold back my tears. I know that many who will read this don't know me, so let me give some background. I spent a year in Vietnam 1966 and then tested the hippie world for a few years before a stint in a vegetarian lifestyle. On to logging, trucking cross country, then to Alaska and working on the oilfield in the Arctic for 14 years. I was not a man prone to tears, but in the last two weeks, I have probably drained 4 or 5 gallons of them. It's been a good cleansing, but has reached a point where I am having trouble shutting it down.

My first 36 years were defined by the fact that I was a great consumer of spirits. From that haze, I have been a very selfish and arrogant individual for a large portion of my 70 years. So through the travails of my daughter over the last 6 and 1/3 years and the incredible patience and forbearance of my beautiful and generous wife, I am finally learning to change. 

I thank all of you for helping "my little girl". I cannot express the gratitude and love that I feel; you have left me as a pool of Jello. There are so many of you generous, loving, and wonderful souls. I need you to know that if there is ever something I can do to help you, it would be an honor.

Also one last thing - Claire-Darth-Kendrick-Kat-Isabel (stars of My Last Days) - I could never thank you enough for sharing your unbelievable stories and your sweet spirits. And Jessica, how such a wonderful and beautiful young lady can be related to me, I do not know. You have all inspired me to be true and genuine going forward. The six stories that are shared by "My Last Days" on The CW Network has filled me gratitude. 

God Bless all of you (God being of your flavor) mine being JC.

Love and hugs to all of you,
Bobaloo