July 7, 2003
July 17, 2003
August 9, 2003
August 20, 2003 
September 5, 2003
October 18, 2003
December 30, 2003
 
July 7, 2003

<>I apologize for not getting back to those of you who have called or e-mailed me and hope that you don't mind this rather impersonal message.  The support, concern and love you have shown to our family is quite overwhelming and has gotten us through these first 10 days in shape to face whatever comes next.

For those of you who don't know yet - and again, I apologize for surprising you this way - Marc had a stroke a week ago Friday.  Many of you know he had suffered a transient episode (i.e. without lingering effects) in October, followed by a 10-minute loss of peripheral vision in January. He has been under the care of a neurologist since, having had every type of scan possible.  Given  his overall health, exercise level, low cholesterol and blood pressure, etc., nothing was making sense.

Marc did have a procedure (transesophageal echocardiogram - TEE) at the end of March which showed he had a mitral valve prolapse (heart murmur), but it looked totally normal, and Marc was given the standard advice to take antibiotics before having dental work.  Apparently, some small amount of bacteria - probably from an earlier teeth cleaning - was already floating around his system.  It then attached itself to the mitral valve, seeded there, and created a "vegetation" that broke off and caused the occlusion.  The best guess is that the October episode was caused by a much smaller vegetation that left no marker on the valve.  This time, when the TEE was repeated, it showed the remains of the vegetation along with some damage to the valve.  Marc has heard but not absorbed the news that repair or replacement surgery is probably in his future.  We'll cross that bridge when we come to it, but I don't want you to have any more surprises.  (Note to Marc's family: I don't think Dad knows this either, so please don't say anything.)

There's always a silver lining in a cloud, I've discovered, and our cloud has two primary ones:  Marc's intelligence is intact, and he is left-handed.  As of now, Marc has feeling but no movement on his right side.  His speech is returning although he has a long way to go before he can get his thoughts into the words he wants to use.  A friend who is a neuropsychologist (and also a southpaw) has told us that lefties actually have a small speech center on the right side of their brains and therefore recover speech more quickly and completely, often, than righties.  Alan also showed me specifically which part of the brain was affected, and the clot seems closest to the area controlling arm movement.  It may very well be that his hand and arm capabilities will be the slowest to improve.  Of course, none of us knows at this time how complete his recovery will be, but we all know what a fighter and hard-worker he is, so he'll give it his all.

The third silver lining is that Marc was placed in a very large private room, and I have been camped there with him 24/7 (minus a few hours per day).  It's been a godsend to be with him in the middle of the night when he wakes up totally disoriented or coughing up a storm (he developed an aspiration pneumonia from a compromised swallowing function).  Of course, he also wakes up raring to go at 2 a.m., after a day of lying in bed, and I've had nights with not much sleep.  Last night, he got back at me for being too tired to sit with him by do his singing speech therapy at 2:30.  I sure hope the therapist appreciates it.

It's also meant that we have room for the 15 flower arrangements that have arrived, as well as the other decorations that will be described below.  The nursing and aide care that he has been getting have been spectacular.  Everyone is pleasant, competent, attentive, and willing to pitch in at any time.  I have become one of the family after all this time and am grateful for the kindness and affection that has been shown to both of us.

To Marc's professional friends and colleagues:  Your pained phone calls, stunned e-mails, and absolutely gorgeous flowers have said it all.  Marc is moved - literally - to tears each time I relay another message to him.  His health will improve dramatically, I predict, as soon as he can begin to participate in his work with you.  To his research group at Cal (Marc's students and post-docs working with him):  You cannot possibly know (unless Jeff is willing to act the dramatic role) what your gifts to Marc have meant.  To those who haven't seen them:  Day 1: 3 poster-size pictures of Deimos (telescope) results.  They now cover the Monet prints and the closet doors, and provide Marc an opportunity to discuss astronomy with the nurses, aides, friends and passers-by.  Day 2: A photo of his group (minus Alison, who was in Hawaii) in his office, with a message requesting his return printed across his empty chair.  All of them signed something on the back, and I realized Marc's personality and humor were unaffected when he got a good belly laugh out of Renbin's comment:  "Come back soon.  Enjoy your vacation!"  Day 3:  The most gorgeous hand-designed banner - which I hope I can manage to attach to this document - saying..."Even in the darkest hours, Stars shine bright."  When our friend Alan told Marc today that his recovery would depend in large part on his motivation, he pointed to the picture of the group and said "That's my motivation."  Of course, he's only slightly miffed that you can really get on without him...!

To my healthcare friends (and excuse the industry-speak if you're not one of them):  Well, those bastards at Sutter are sucking it out of Pacificare as we speak.  Sorry Brendhan, but we stop-lossed into billed charges Day 1, I'm sure.  In any case, I've learned more about the health care system from the patient side in 10 days than I have in the past 30.  I can't imagine how terrifying it would be to receive this level of care and not have insurance.  I am so grateful to have health (and other UC) benefits so that all I have to think about is Marc.  I'll probably keep my work to a real minimum these next few months but will be back.  Stay in touch.

To my St. Mary's classmates/friends:  Calling Barbara to tell her that I needed to take a break from school was one of the more difficult calls to make.  School has been so emotionally absorbing that it and you have really been central to my life these past nine months.  I've had dreams 3 nights running that Marc was actually well and that I wasn't sure why I had dropped out of school.  Two of the three times I've reenrolled, but in last night's dream, I was seriously weighing the joy of weekend's off with the possibility of more projects!  I hope you all have the energy to return next week after a great month off. I'm sure I'll see you before next March, but I'll be crashing your graduation with Wende.  Good luck to all of you - and DO keep those baby pictures coming.  (Note:  I will be joining the ladies for spa day on Sunday, which I am really looking forward to.)

To our family and dear friends:  I would not have survived this ordeal without you.  Responding to all of your offers for assistance and participation would be a full-time job.  The Beth El community has been remarkable, as have Marc's family and our other friends. I'm grateful to Marian Magid and others who will
be my connection to you until Marc and I get our feet more firmly planted on the ground.  I promise to take each and everyone of you up on your offers of dinners, visitations, etc, once Marc is out of this acute phase and beginning his rehab.  I have no doubt that hardest part will be when he is no longer an inpatient (probably a month from now) and we are at home figuring out how to constantly readjust as Marc's capabilities improve.  I will need you then at least as much as now.

The boys seem to be doing okay.  Jeremy is in Princeton and, although studying neuroscience, doesn't seem to get the impact of what has happened.  The phrase "Denial is not a river" comes to mind.  It's actually easier on me not to have to worry to much about his mental state.  Adam is more affected, being here to see it, although he has had limited exposure to Marc given other summer activities that had been planned.  Of course, he'll be here to experience this first year of recovery (which I understand can go on for two years), so I am pushing for him to enjoy his summer as much as possible.  Adam, of course, needs no pushing to have a great time, so this part of my job has been easy.

Anyway, I've now been out of the hospital for 5 hours, a record, and want to return.  I promise to update you as often as possible and hope that Marc will soon be composing his own e-mails.  Thank you again for all of your love and support.  My spirit is strengthened by knowing how much good there is in this world.

With love, Nancy...and Marc, Adam, and Jeremy too

(P.S. Technology has got me again.  I'll have Adam e-mail the photos later today.)


July 17, 2003

Things have certainly changed for the better over the last week and a half, and I wanted to share the news about Marc's progress with you.

  <>Marc finally recovered from his pneumonia last Tuesday or Wednesday, which greatly reduced (but didn't fully eliminate) his unbearable cough.  This enabled him (and me) to get some sleep and allowed him to graduate from the Ng tube to Pureed Hospital Dreck.  Since his pneumonia was aspiration-induced, and because his swallowing flouroscopy (yum - barium-coated dreck) showed that some of the more solid food he ingested was sitting on his vocal chords, just waiting to slide down the trachea, his diet was limited to purees.  If you've never seen French toast pureed and then re-formed into a piece of French-toast look-a-like, think homemade play dough made with purple and red food coloring that turns out camouflage brown.  Not a pretty picture, but then again, remember that the alternative was a nasal tube!  Since he's lost 15 pounds (looking very gaunt), we're supplementing with Trader Joe's Belgian Chocolate Pudding as well as crème caramel from a number of sources.  I suspect he'll be on harder foods by the end of the week. <> 

On Thursday, Marc's white count had started climbing upward, but a CT scan showed nothing in his abdomen (the most likely source of additional bacteria which would cause this increase), and by Friday the count had fallen again.  So early Friday afternoon, he was transferred to Herrick Hospital's inpatient rehab unit. I had been taking pictures of the staff at Alta Bates for the prior 24 hours and felt like I was leaving summer camp.  Those wonderful folks had really become family.  I don't know how we would have coped as well as we have without them.  I don't miss my pink naugehyde day-bed, though, now that I'm back to my Sealy. <> 

Friday was the first day on which Marc was really alert, and it was also the time when he and I realized we were entering the chronic stage of his event. One could sense the old Marc was back as he complained every 5 minutes (for 4 hours) prior to his 1 o'clock discharge about why it was taking so long for everything to happen.  (The actual discharge orders weren't even written until 10 a.m....)  He was really eager to begin his exercise/rehab routine and devastatingly disappointed to arrive at Herrick without 6 therapists ready to work with him right then.  It was a rough afternoon when not much happened, and the fact that the nurses are spread thinner than they are on a telemetry unit and don't respond as quickly as one might like really hit home that we had left a pretty cushy situation.  <>

Saturday was much better, however.  Marc was evaluated and worked with each of the modalities he will see every day - physical, speech, and occupational therapy as well as neuropsych.  Everyone seems quite talented, and they treat the patients with the highest expectations and utmost respect. Every communication is directed at the patient (even when I would ask a question, the answer would be directed to Marc, for example).  Marc is now assisting with his dressing and other morning activities, as well as standing (assisted), pivoting, and sitting for up to 5 hours.  The PT and I saw him lift his right shoulder the other day  and shrieked (he was looking at his feet instead of the mirror in front of him and missed the whole thing!).  Small achievements become significant, and Marc admits that he is seeing progress every day, albeit not at the rate he'd like (minimally twice the speed of light, as far as I can tell). <> 

Time and place are still disorienting.  He feels much better when I've penned in which day it is as well as one thing that is happening that day (today was Bastille Day, thank heavens) and his schedule.  The clock presents a challenge at night and when he is tired.   <> 

The greatest improvement seems to be in his speech.  Marc has perfectly comprehendible in-person and phone conversations now (unless he's very tired or coughing).  When he messes up, though, it's usually a real mess-up.  Words elude, and interesting substitutes and/or gibberish result.  (One night at Alta Bates, he woke up at 3 a.m. speaking 100% gibberish, fast and furious.  I got pee-in-you-pants hysterical and was glad to have extra pillows in which to bury my face.)  The neuropsychologist told me today that they think his speech was damaged in the posterior part of the brain, affecting him in two specific ways. The first is that he will appear to be comprehending when he's not; he's picking up on other cues to understand but not getting the words or, quite likely, is using his facial expressions to fool the speaker into thinking he is getting it.  The second is that he can speak very clearly and rapidly but will in the middle of a sentence switch to a new subject or start throwing in unrelated things.  I've seen this myself when he'll be talking about one thing, like his therapies, and the next thing that creeps in has to do with DEIMOS.  I'm less clear at other times, like when he's trying to explain his confusion about the clock and how parts of the hours are broken down, and then suddenly he's talking about Copernicus.  I have no CLUE if Copernicus has anything to do with what he's talking about, and neither does anyone else there.  In the meantime, I read him the paper today, and he asked intelligent questions about or made comments on all of the articles.  So at least I know he is getting some higher-level understanding.  I was also told that all of the energy that goes into entertaining people actually slows down brain cell regeneration, so my apologies in advance to those of you who want to visit.  You may get 15 minutes with Marc - or not even that.  They'll be plenty of time once he's home. <> 

As for the rest of us, Adam has not particularly enjoyed visiting Marc, for good reason, although he was buoyed by a gardening conversation they had this afternoon and then bopped in to Marc's room to pick me up.  He's leaving tomorrow for the East Coast for 2.5 weeks, which he should enjoy.  Jeremy remains in la-la land about this, to some extent, but he'll be here in 2 weeks and that's probably soon enough to learn what's really going on. <> 

I had a great spa-and-lunch day yesterday up in Napa, made possible because of the many friends and colleagues who visited and filled in for me.  I thought about my MBA classmates at 7 tonight as they were at their first Marketing class but consoled my loss with the fact that they have homework tonight and I don't. <> 

As it has been since the first friend was on the scene at our house before even  the EMTs, we continue to be inundated with offers of help as well as calls, thoughts, prayers, and good vibes.  All of it makes a difference, and I thank you again for Marc, Adam, and myself.   <> 

More next week!  Love- Nancy <> 

P.S.  I am too unsophisticated for "Unsubscribe", so please tell me or the person who is forwarding this to you when you've had enough. <> 

P.S.S.  The typical-teenager Adam has procrastinated sending the pictures promised last week.  I'll try and hit him up tomorrow before he leaves.

 

August 9, 2003

It's been a  busy few weeks.  I believe I let you know that Marc had moved to Herrick Hospital, the rehab branch of Alta Bates. He's now in the thick of a recovery program that keeps him busy, with intermittent resting periods, from 7:30 a.m. until 3:30 or 4:00 five days a week.  Saturday is a lighter schedule,and Sunday is excruciatingly boring for him, with no therapies whatsoever.  The boredom is mitigated by visits from friends and family, but Marc would prefer to work 7 days per week.  (Big surprise, huh?!?)  In Marc's therapists, I have finally found a group of people who recognize him as a Type A.  His external demeanor is so calm compared to mine that most people we meet, at least socially, have me pegged as Type A (no argument there) and him as a Type B.  It has always galled me that he gets away with that, especially on those mornings where he's pacing the floor at 5 a.m. and won't let me sleep.  In any case, his therapists and I are on a mission to get him to relax his body and mind to support his healing.  Easier said than done.  He had an hour of biofeedback training on Saturday which he completely discounted.  However, Don Shapero's visit from the National Academy the next day might have helped.  Don has practiced meditation, and hearing from a fellow physicist that this stuff works, even if it sounds hokey, was a big plus.  We've borrowed some relaxation tapes and hope to start them today.  Who knows, maybe we'll both be Type B's after this experience (but don't hold your breath).

  <>Marc's speech is recovery quite well, although he still has trouble finding words and remembering spoken information.  This appears to be a combination of normal post-stroke effects and those specific to his particular brain damage. It's interesting to observe him trying to define words like "repair", for example.  He spews lots of words about instruments that are broken going here and there but has trouble coming up with the word "fix" as a one-word answer. The last thing this family needs is a second person who rambles on, so I hope this problem clears up.   <> 

It's a great relief to both of us that Marc was told that he could read again.  He had been asked to listen to music rather than books on tape, for example, to rest his mind.  However, as they realized that his deficits were more auditory than visual, he was given the green light to proceed.  Yesterday was the first time Marc didn't call me during some rest period in tears to complain about how boring it was, etc.  He woke up early and started Harry Potter 5 (keeping the pages open and the book propped up being more of a problem than the words) and was reading the newspaper when I arrived in the afternoon.  He did admit to having trouble understanding notes from a short physics course Martin White recently taught at Berkeley and is beginning to accept that he should focus his medical leave on healing, rather than teaching, coaching his team, etc.  <> 

Marc remains something of an enigma to the therapists in terms of his type of deficits, and he has actually agreed to participate in a UCB neuroscience study that is looking at people like him.  A good quid pro quo for those people who Jeremy is subjecting to EEGs this summer and a great support for his own research institution.  He is actually quite eager to participate, which I can only interpret as seeing how well he does.  Can't take the "A student" mentality away from the guy. <> 

With regards to mobility, Marc is recovering strength in his trunk and right hip such that he is able to hold a pillow between his knees and lift them from the right side up to a neutral position without letting the pillow drop, and he can lift his pelvis off of the PT table in a "bridge" and hold it there.  Nonetheless, I've been told that his mobility damage was quite deep, and it will take enormous effort and a lot of time to bring that back. He seems to be accepting that he will need a wheelchair when he comes home, even if he is walking some of the time (which they expect he will be).  We attended a "rap" session of a few inpatients and former patients who are in various stages of recovery.  Seeing a 20 year old who is permanently in a wheelchair following a car crash and a 30 year old with debilitating lupus, in addition to several people with cognitive damage that Marc realizes he escaped was actually good therapy.  It's harder to feel sorry for yourself and also good to see people leading productive lives in spite of some permanent deficits. <> 

With regard to calls and visitors, Marc's phone is 510-204-5850.  We have somewhat limited daily visits to one per late afternoon/early evening, but Marc is quite eager to see people Saturday after therapy and Sundays.  This weekend his Dad will be here, but others can also drop by.  Just check with Jeff Newman, if you're a local colleague, or with me if you're a friend or out-of-towner (my cell is 510-409-4904). <> 

Sandy Faber and Dick McCray, two of Marc's close friends and colleagues, visited him within the past week and a half, and both said he was in better shape than they had expected.  I have tried to accurately represent what I see going on and hope that they were just feeling more pessimistic than necessary.  I'd love feedback from others who have visited as a double check on my observations.   <> 

Regarding the kids, Adam is back East having a ball.  He was totally buoyed to hear Marc speaking so clearly on the phone, and I hope he'll be able to maintain his positive outlook when he gets back.  Jeremy will see Marc on the 3rd for the first time.  I've found that I am completely unable to judge my kids' reactions to many things (21 years of empirical data notwithstanding), so rather than guess, I'll let you know how it goes once it's happened. <> 

I continue to feel like the luckiest person on earth, with my every need being anticipated and attended to by ten different people.  Every day I say I'm going to get back to my work, most of which I can do at home, and every day I find lots of other things to fill my time, so I guess I'm not quite ready for that (although I'll try again today).  Learning to go with the flow has been interesting, and even under the current circumstances, much more relaxing than unnecessarily worrying all the time.   <> 

So - until the next e-mail - hope you are all doing well and enjoying your summer.  Marc and I both thank you for your thoughts, prayers, visits, cards, etc. and look forward to many happy reunions. <> 

Love - Nancy


 
 
August 20, 2003

It hardly seems possible that so much time has gone by since my last e-mail.  The past 6 weeks are pretty much a blur in my mind at this point, and seeing Marc daily makes me less able to see the strides he?s made since a particular point in time.  But they are there, and they are big!

  <>Marc's large muscle groups continue to strengthen, and he?s now doing pre-gait exercises in preparation for walking.  He?s actually walked along the parallel bars (which much to my chagrin, I missed seeing.  Jeremy saw it, however, and reminded me that ?one parent always misses the first step.?  How does he know that?)  Marc?s biggest problem is getting his weight on his right leg, which he is beginning to feel when in use, but which he still cannot locate in space (a sensory function known as proprioception). The task is made worse, however, by his constant focus on the muscle/neural connection, which turns the whole thing into an intellectual exercise, as well as his ability to compensate by using his left side (a function of having such a strong good side). The therapists have told him that this is slowing down his progress, and we?ve borrowed the phrase ?Just Do It?.  I?ve been encouraging him to imagine he?s unweighting his left ski, thus fitting in ski exercises at the same time.  I was also trained today to do additional transfers and could feel how much he was relying on his left side.  Now I know just where to push on his butt and hold his back to force him onto the right.  I could easily turn into Nurse Ratchett. <> 

Marc's speech is much improved, although he still mixes up names (he calls me 'Tam' a lot, and I'm sure glad that's his sister's name!) and cannot find the words he needs to make concise statements.  This is because the right brain sees the big picture and the left handles detail.  I think I have heard Marc utter more words in the last 6 weeks than in 23 years of marriage.  He?s much worse at the end of the day, as Mike Turner discovered during a 7:00 p.m. visit.  For the first half of his visit, Mike was David (probably a sad association to Dave Schramm).  After that, Marc was practically babbling, and Mike and I had a few good laughs (with Marc, of course).  Marc was wondering when he'd be back to teaching, and I said not until he stopped calling galaxies 'refrigerators'.  He hasn't actually done that - in fact, he calls all sorts of things galaxies - but Mike suggested 'The Cosmologist Who Mistook a Galaxy for a Refrigerator' as a sequel to Oliver Sachs' similarly named first book.   <> 

Marc has had a real breakthrough in his attitude toward therapy and the hospital.  Things finally clicked for him last week, and he really experienced the progress and the potential.  His determination is now at peak levels, and although he is still bored with any downtime, he realizes the hospital is the best place for him right now.  This is good since they are talking about keeping him beyond August 26th.  His therapists really think they can make enormous progress with him there, and he agrees it would be for the best.  Beside, he needs to be there for his birthday (Sept. 8th).  On Thursday, he told the staff that his birthday was the next day (Aug. 8th), reflecting his continued confusion with time.  The staff bought him a card and ran around to make sure everyone had signed it by 7:30 the next morning!  They got a good laugh out of the mistake, as did he and I.   <> 

Just after my last e-mail, Marc snookered his psychologist into letting him come home for a few hours on Sunday.  None of his other therapists thought he was physically or emotionally ready, and I was pretty nervous that he'd refuse to go back once at home.  Our friends Carol, Bob, and Lloyd came to Herrick to be trained with me on car transfers and getting the wheelchair up and down steps.  We did fine with that, which is a good thing, because in the morning, Marc and I failed toilet transfer!  Happily this was a non-issue during his visit.  Marc?s Dad was here that weekend, and it was a real shot in the arm for him to see Marc at home.  Marc, for his part, supervised my weed-pulling and our friend David?s rhododendron fertilizing.  In what seemed like a blessing at the time, Marc was so uncomfortable in his wheelchair that by 11:30 he was begging to go back to the hospital! I had managed to get Marc down our stairs, but it remained for Lloyd to pull him back up.  I?ve since had a ramp put in.  A second visit last weekend found Marc trimming the geraniums himself, and tomorrow we will be celebrating our anniversary with a few friends for brunch (which of course, they are making?).  Being here is really helps both of us get through therapy-less Sundays.  <> 

We had a great family reunion, as you can see from the attached picture.  Jeremy was quite cool about seeing Marc, and of course remains sure that a full recovery is the only possible outcome.  The improvement over the 2 ½ weeks that Adam was gone struck Adam as quite remarkable, and he's much more comfortable visiting with Marc now.  Adam cooked a great meal for all of us to share at Herrick, and it was a great boost to his folks.  Marc's Dad was also here a few weeks ago, and  His sister and brother-in-law, along with my dear friend Nancy Levine from Boston, will be here next weekend.  Jeremy's now in Vegas with 5 male friends doing whatever young men do there at age 21. <> 

As for me, I actually did get some work done this past week and feel like next week I?ll accomplish even more.  It?s a good distraction, but it?s hard to get Marc out of my mind.  Our friends are still making sure I do nothing for myself, and I am in danger of forgetting how to cook, a skill that took Marc 15 years to teach me!   <> 

Re' mediation: many people, including some who we don?t know, sent along great information about their experience with it, references to specific techniques, etc.  And Time magazine?s cover story last week was 'The Science of Meditation'.  All of this gave me great hope that Marc would eagerly embrace the practice. However, my friend Vincent sent me some Jewish Zen-isms which pretty much sum up where Marc is on this:  'Zen is not easy.  It takes effort to attain nothingness.  And then what do you have'  Bupkes. (Yiddish for 'nothing'.)' In all fairness, the CD I bought him was a little too talkie, and he and I haven't found the time to meditate together.  But I have a feeling that 'Be patient and achieve all things.  Be impatient and achieve all things faster' is our reality for now. The one that resonates with me is 'The journey of a thousand miles begins with a single oy.'  (I've attached all of them for those of you for whom they might have meaning')    <> 

I think that?s probably it for now.  Again, thanks for all of your wonderful e-mails, cards, etc.  Oh' and it would be great if you could either call Marc directly at 510-204-5850, or try me at home (510-527-3779 is my home office, and I check messages several times a day) before trying my cell phone.  Last month?s bill cost about the same as 4 lectures at Princeton, and those of you who can do that math will recognize that it may come down to phone bill or Princeton if this keeps up!  Do feel free to call the cell if there is no response at the other numbers, or if you need to reach me right then (e.g. to confirm a visit). <> 

On that note.  much love from all of us.  Nancy


September 5, 2003

Jeff Newman is back from his wedding and threatening to scoop me again if I don't write tonight. So thank him for getting me off my duff.

  <>Big news from our end of the world! Marc is coming home next Tuesday,  Sept. 9th! He's on the final week's countdown - today was his last  Wednesday, etc. As threatened, he will be in the hospital on his birthday, so the staff doesn't need to feel so bad about having given him a birthday card a month early. We haven't made plans for the day,  but I do know that balloons - really balloons this time - are on the list. Maybe I'll throw in a few pillows for a good laugh. <> 

So you're wondering what state he's in. He's walking! With a 4-pronged  cane, and with a somewhat stiff leg (he can't yet bend his knee at will from the standing position), but otherwise walking unassisted. Someone needs to stand nearby to be able to support him should he need that, but it's really incredible to see. On Sunday, when Neta and John Bahcall  visited us, Marc was needing someone to guide him from behind and remind  him about his posture. So there's been a real change in just a few days.  Tonight he told me that he could, for the first time, feel when he was putting weight on his right leg. This is good, since the easiest test for telling if he had any weight on it was to kick his foot to see if it moved easily, and one accidentally-too-hard kick could create a bit of a mess. I expect his rate of improvement will continue to be high in this area. <> 

His arm is another story. His shoulder is still weak, and his lower arm and hand are fighting as hard as they can to go into exactly the position we don't want them in - curled tight in towards his body. (It actually is at its worst when he scratches himself on various parts of  the body, which shall remain unnamed. Occasionally the whole forearm,  plastic splint included, shoots straight up in air, and there have been several near-misses with his nose) The answer to this (other than to not scratch) is 1) sometimes splinting, 2) a painful push on his wrist to release the tension, followed by an even more painful unraveling of his fingers, and 3) Vicodin. Just for good luck, the doctors just threw in a bedtime muscle relaxant too. (You should see the number of pills he takes in a day, which, according to Adam, have a frightfully high street value.) I have often had to do the painful part, but as it's gotten worse, Marc has taken to telling me to back off. (That's the polite version.) Today I watched him grit his teeth and say nothing while the OT and PT took their turns. As soon as they left and I attempted to do so, he yelled at me. I reminded him of its critical importance and also that in a week, I'd be the only one there to help him. I guess we'll have a few things like that to work out.  <>

Actually, starting on Wednesday, Marc'll be in a program called Rehab Without Walls. Speech, occupational and physical therapists, along with a neuropsychologist, will come to the house and work with him on being able to do what he needs to here and then out in the community. I'm wondering what they'll say when I tell them he's the only one who can fix the leaking pipe under the kitchen sink. (Get a plumber, obviously.) As far as I can tell, someone will be here daily, although each of them will only spend 2-3 days here, albeit for a few hours at a time. I guess this means I'm going to have to start making my bed and hanging up my clothes at night. I see why they say this is going to be hard on me. <> 

Marc's least favorite part of this whole recovery process is speech, even though it's the only part he really needs to get back to work. I think it's because he didn't like his first therapist, and also because he doesn't realize the depth of some of his deficits. He finally got himself excused from the class where he and 5 old ladies were expected to pull their faces into contortions to stretch the muscles ("ooh" into a pucker, then "eee" into a smile...). He's been encouraged instead to do puzzles, read, and focus on the higher level skills. Marc's never liked word games (Scrabble, for example), but I have him doing crossword puzzles with me. (I'm an addict, for those of you who don't know.) He remembers many more words than he did at the get-go. Last week he actually worked with me on the Sunday NY Times Puzzle. I'll be happy if he can acquire more cognitive thinking skills by doing it, but if he ever tries to take over for me, he's dead meat. <> 

Now that he is almost home, we can forget that much of the last few weeks was filled with great frustration alongside the exultation when progress was made. For example, my dear friend Nancy Levine flew in from Boston with 4 2-lb. lobsters and 5 lbs. of steamers. Marc ate some of both but could taste neither, and the same was true for other savory bits. His taste buds in general seemed to be in a funk. He finally theorized that there was something added to the hospital food which only allowed the buds to function when that's what you were eating; otherwise, everyone would starve to death. A bit paranoid but not beyond the realm of possibility. His lack of being able to move his right side also got to him. He described waking up in the morning as being like a live insect in a viewing box, where one half was pinned down but the other could move freely. It really made what he's going through seem very real physically, although I wish he would've chosen butterflies. He and I agreed that insects were a bit too Kafkaesque. <> 

Most interestingly, Marc started talking about how his outlook on life was changing. He's talked about how worked up he used to get at certain committee meetings, commenting on both his lack of patience as well as taking the issues too seriously. His own assessment is that he would now handle himself differently, and that he could see how is attitude toward life would change after this. Upon further investigation, I've learned that most of our friends who've been through difficult times physically have changed - and this lasted a max of 1 year! I have a feeling Marc's ordeal will have a slightly longer residual, but that remains to be seen 3-4 years from now. With any luck, you'll have stopped getting these goofy letters from me.

 <>The boys are doing fine. Jeremy has had the realization we've all experienced at one time that he's a senior and will need to leave the college-womb at the end of this year to take on the next phase of his life. This is intended to be graduate school, after a year off as a ski bum (which Marc and I heartily endorse if he can support himself). He'll take the GREs at the end of the month and then apply to a handful of as-yet determined grad schools. At the same time, he'll be doing his senior thesis and trying to party hard while he has the chance. His trip to Vegas was great; happily he told me that the best part of it was not the drinking or the gambling but rather just being with "the guys". Adam had a great weekend, as usual, when Aunt Tammy and Uncle Dennis visited, and he's enjoying his Senior year at BHS (enjoyment being his middle name). He's getting ready to apply early to a few state schools (OR, AZ) that have rolling admissions, hoping that if he gets accepted, he'll be able to relax even more. I needed a lot more distance on this process than I had with Jeremy (approx. 1/2 mm.) and I'm certainly going to be forced to have it now. Aren't strokes useful.  Proving once again that you can show old dogs new tricks,

<>I think I am finally able to attach the original photos of Marc's hospital room as well as more recent ones of him walking. (The hospital walking photo was last week; the one at home on Sunday. I'll send a new one later this week. The smiley one is him after he showed off for Neta and John. Labeling the pictures is next week's lesson.) (Note: your version sent without photos, since the original bounced back due to message length.)  <>So...no more hospital visits to schedule - phew.. And now I will be accepting my local friends' offers of cooked meals, all coordinated by the inimitable Marian Magid. And we will keep you informed of what's going on.

Perhaps Marc will even write the next update himself. He's dreading learning the hunt-and-pick method of typing so perhaps he'll dictate to me. Probably not the only thing he'll try and dictate to me, either. Anyway, Phase I is over and Phase II begins.

Thanks for being with us on this journey. 

<>Love and hugs to all - Nancy, and Marc, Jeremy and Adam, too

 

October 18, 2003
 

Welcome to our home, where a once loving wife tortures her poor ailing husband by dunking his hand and wrist into a bucket full of ice and water, flexes his wrist by wrenching it in opposition to the way it wants to go, and basically holds the key to everything he needs except the toilet.  Other than that, it's a great place to visit!

Marc's been home for 5 1/2 weeks now.   The first 3 weeks at home were like a second honeymoon for us, and we snuggled and laughed a lot. For example, one night Marc forgot to take his pills before he laid down.  I handed him his7-day pill box and went to get some water.  By the time I returned, Marc had figured out the perfect place to rest the pills while using his only working hand to close the case - his belly button! Another night, I snuck up on him while wearing his "claw" (a hard, white plastic splint with articulated fingers).  However, the last two weeks have been much harder. Perhaps the reality of his current situation has finally set in; he's feeling more depressed, and the task ahead, with no guarantees of any particular outcome, seems overwhelming.

Marc's made good progress in his 5 weeks home, but at a snail's pace, per his perception. He's an incredible trooper, but for all the positive things that are happening, his days are filled with so much hard work and pain that he's not having much fun yet (to say the least). We're relatively pleased with the home agency that's providing him care - Rehab Without Walls.  He gets about 15-16 hours a week of care, which is not that much less than at the hospital, but it's not every day so workouts are more intensive. We've also hired the "guru" of arm recovery and her counterpart for the legs as well as the charming young woman who was Marc's OT at Herrick, adding 5 extra hours of treatment per week.  Plus there are Feldenkrais massages at least every other week for general relaxation as well as neural development work. No one can say that we aren't giving it the old college try.

Marc's walk has improved a lot.  He was discharged with a 4-pronged cane but within the first week was "promoted" to a single pronged cane. This makes walking more difficult, since the cane is less stable and doesn't support as much weight, forcing more of it onto his right foot.  He insisted that the ramp I had installed for the wheelchair be removed immediately, and he navigates the steps just fine. He only uses the wheelchair to sit in now. This is particularly good for me, since getting Marc to the bathroom used to consist of my backing into it while pulling him in, leaving him in peace by climbing out over the wheelchair and 5' long vanity, then repeating the process in reverse.  (Always did love an excuse to act 16 again.)  His therapists also suggested he could improve by walking behind a shopping cart, which requires balance and an even distribution of weight.  I thought perhaps I'd found a shopping partner, but one trip to Target was enough for him.  We stick to food shopping now. We are also stretching Marc's leg a lot in addition to all of his exercises. Marc has always been very athletic but, like most men, lacks flexibility, and that's not helping.  At the end of all of this therapy, he should be Gumby.

 I razz Marc because his approach to walking and weight bearing on his right leg reminds me of my skiing: eyes looking at the tips of my skis instead of where I want to be going, mental processes working overtime to check out 10 things at once (poles, edges, shoulders, knees, etc.), and - the worst - fear gripping my heart. Part of me says when I "encourage" (taunt, yell, push, shrug in exasperation) Marc that he's just getting what he dished out to me all of those years on the slopes.  Then I remember that, underneath it all, I love skiing, and what Marc is going through really sucks (to quote our kids).  Even though he doesn't deserve it, I still dish it out. Isn't tough love exciting.

Marc is still struggling most with the "tone" in his arm.  His extensor muscles remain shortened, pulling the hand into a curl, which we unteract by flexing the wrist (i.e. pulling his finger tips up toward the shoulder while keeping his wrist down, forcing it to flex ). We thought you'd enjoy seeing the most torturous device that his therapists developed to assist in this process.  Not only is it tiresome having to get him into these things, but I am constantly getting Velcro'ed to something while I do it. We were brainwashed by the Herrick team about how to handle his hand, and the OT from the home agency seemed to have different ideas (i.e. using of a sling for walking) which were more appealing to Marc because they were a bit more comfortable. After a few weeks, Marc and I realized we were on "information/instruction" overload and feeling very frustrated.  My Excel chart of exercises helped a bit (me being of the mind that there isn't a problem that can't be solved by a nice, neat Excel spreadsheet...), but our compliance was breaking down and we were arguing, getting anxious and, unfortunately, getting lax about working on Marc's arm.  But we're back ontrack 

On top of all the exercises and stretches, the tone won't clear up until he also stands up straight, stops leaning towards the left, and puts equal weight on his right foot.  This is made all the more difficult since Marc never stood up straight. (With all his father's wonderful traits, he had to inherit this lousy one...)  It also requires that I have eyes on all sides of my head and pay attention to him almost constantly when there's not got a therapist here.  On a lighter note, his neurologist told me there is now a study on the use of botox to relieve tone for stroke patients, and he could get the treatments for free as a reuslt.Botox is already being used to relieve spasticity in people with problems such as cerebral palsy.  Rest assured, however, that if Marc does botox, I do botox, and not in my arm either!

The last few days have been more "fun" for Marc, however.  His regular physical therapist from Rehab Without Walls is on vacation, and a guy named Dennis was her substitute.  Dennis said he'd take his lead from Marc about how much he wants to do and try (oyvay).  So...Marc has now gone down the steep, narrow steps to our basement  sitting on his butt, and then he walked up using the left-sided railing; he's climbed onto my bike and spent some time on the spinner; and he's walked from our house down to the corner of Spruce and then around to Spruce and Marin, and back.  Today beats everything, though: he tried out the Nordic Track (see photo).  A friend will be lending us a stationary bike that's easier to get onto than a regular one, and I'll help him get on and off of that, but he's gonna have to find some other sucker if he wants to work out on the Nordic Track!  Today was Dennis's last day, but he really wants to keep in touch with Marc, and we may very well hire him ourselves when home treatment ends Nov. 14th and twice-a-week outpatient therapy is the next stage.

Speaking of things we don't have to pay for, Marc is officially the half-million dollar man.  At least that's what the hospitals' total billed charges came to.  We all know that billed charges is an inflated number, but even on a contractual basis, the cost was significant.  Of this, our cost was $500.  Thank heavens for those fat university benefits.

Part of what makes this phase of our life work is that we no longer cook dinner.  Our dear friends, mostly from our synagogue, began bringing dinner to us the day after we arrived home and have continued to do so ever since.  There are people doing this through the end of October, and I'm sure many will continue on if we need them.  I'm not sure they realize what a huge difference this makes in our lives, and perhaps they won't realize that we're still asking for dinners long after Marc is fully recovered! (Only kidding.)  There are days when I honestly feel like I'm on vacation because that's what I equate with not cooking.  I only wish...

Marc's team continues to provide terrific support to him.  Marc is now going into the office for group meetings and has spent several other hours there.  He made the mistake of taking me and I immediately started throwing things out (like letters thanking him for sitting on some committee...dated 1987...).  His focus is still interrupted by therapists, pain, and his nagging wife, so it'll be awhile before work becomes a serious endeavor.

With all of this going on, I'm not getting much time to myself.  Even when the therapists are here, they often call me in to look at something, find something, or train me in yet another task.  However, I'm hanging in there.  I feel less like a caregiver and more like a partner with Marc in this process.  It's hard to see yourself as taking care of someone who is working so hard.  Sadly, I was not able to get to the funeral of my dear friend Nancy's mother, an old family friend, and undoubtedly there are other things I'm missing.  But it's really an inspiration to watch Marc fight back, so I don't feel deprived.

And guess what?  I am now officially Neat!  I mean, ReallyNeat .  (Okay, except for my desk, but Marc can't trip on anything up there.)  Marc has had little tolerance for disarray since the stroke, which my psychologist friends tell me is because his immediate environment is what he can control right now. Since we're encouraging him to walk without looking down, I thought it was only fair that we - change that - I did my part to keep the floors and other spaces barrier-free.  Adam is still a major slob in his own room, but he does take his size 14 shoes out of the foyer, practically doubling the square footage of floor space.

I forgot to update you on meditation in my last e-mail.  After all he wonderful suggestions and personal stories which you sent us, Ma (as in "YoYo") beat out Ma (as in "Harishi") as the meditative object of choice.  At Herrick, Marc found that when he played music in the evenings after  turning the lights out, he could forget about the stroke and relax.  He did so every night for the last 6 weeks or so that he was there, and YoYo Ma's recording of Bach's 6 Unaccompanied Cello Suites was the CD of choice.  In fact, Marc can now hum the entire of Disc 1. Since we've been home, even YoYo has gone by the wayside, however, and Marc remains the dyed-in-the-wool Type A who we all know and love.

The boys are great.  Adam is preparing his college applications while also taking on the role of (the very conservative) Senator  Jeff Sessions of 

Alabama in his Power and Politics Course.  Adam visited the neurologist today as follow-up to his second concussion, suffered in early May.  Between Marc, Adam, and Jeremy-the-future-neuroscientist, I think we should get license plates that read "BrainsRUs".   Jeremy has taken the GREs and is now making inquiries as to whether he can apply for grad school and then defer his admission, or whether he should not bother applying until next year.  I wouldn't mind if he spent the fall at home, cushioning the blow of the empty nest.

I'm sure there is more that happened these past 5 weeks, but since I haven't kept a journal, and most of the days blur together, this will have to suffice.  A belated ShanahTova to all of our Jewish friends, though.  We did make it to synagogue for one service each during Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur, but I ended up going to Costco with Adam on Yom Kippur day to get new tires for our Subaru.  Since Marc was getting anxious about the state of the tires, I figured it was some sort of Mitzvah for us to do that.  (Sorry, Ferenc and Jane.)

On that note...I hope that Marc will want to write to you himself next time.  Your calls and notes mean a lot to him, so feel free to call or e-mail him (marc@deep.berkeley.edu, or via my e-mail).  Hope you are all well and enjoying the transition from summer to fall.  We are watching the Red Sox vs. Yankees at the top of the 11th in game 7 and can't believe that 

Boston blew its lead.  Like us, they may need to look for next year to be better.

With love and thanks to all of you for your overwhelming love and support - Nancy and Marc


December 30, 2003

We hope this letter finds all of you well - all the best for a new year in health and happiness.(Belated Chanukah and Christmas greetings to everyone as well.)We are certainly looking forward to things being easier in 2004, although 2003 has been full of many miracles.

This past Saturday was the 6-month anniversary of Marc?s stroke.I found myself spending Friday contemplating our ?before? life, which has faded in my mind the way that one?s life ?before children? becomes a fond memory overnight.We don?t know what the future holds, but we remain optimistic, if not a bit scared.The reality, of course, is that we?d really like this to be over. I think hitting six months made us understand at a deep level how long and slow this process really is - exactly what people have been saying, but something we had to experience to ?get.?On the one had, Marc can see how much progress he?s made, and that keeps him optimistic about the future; on the other, he can feel how slowly each movement comes, and that is frustrating.We?ve made plans to go to Princeton for Jer?s June 1 graduation, and I know Marc wants to be able to walk around campus.Seems like a good goal to aim for.


Marc spent much of these same anniversary days buried in his new computer - an Apple G4 laptop. Having sworn he'd never switch to Apple since he had no desire to learn another operating system, he made the change because he needed more memory (don't we all...) to more easily connect to his office and work at home.He purchased the Apple?s voice-activated software, replacing DOS?s Dragon.Four days' work by Marc, Jeremy, and Claire Max, as well as hours of schlepping around to find the right headsets, was not enough to assure a successful implementation.It turns out that Apple?s new operating system and Scansoft?sViaVoice don?t work together, a problem newly discovered by both companies.So?having made a short story long?Marc?s desire to ?write? to you directly has been subverted.So he handwrote the following contemplations he wanted to send:


It's been a half year since my accident.I constantly think while exercising,   Will I be able to hike next summer, to ski next winter?

<>

<>I'm trapped inside this old frame of a body; I cannot move beyond its restrictions.I left the hospital last fall with 20% of my right leg muscles working and 0% of my right arm working.The muscles along the right side of my body were all asleep (or in shock).Now, 4 months later, I estimate progress as 50% of my leg, 30% of my body and 2% of the arm.  It's not too terrific like this, but I am trying to increase the %'s with vigorous walks and whatever else the therapists dream up.It is not like building muscles; it all depends on neural pathways, which are slow to develop, and one must be a Type B personality.Those who know me best will guess how this fits my personality.


I wonder why I don't crack up under the stress, but I feel strangely detached.
When I am working on walking with the therapist, I think only of improving my step, of holding up the right side so the left leg swings freely.Who has time to worry about a crackup under these conditions?  But I am kept sane by the loving care of my dear wife, Nancy.  At least she is there for endless hugs at night!My two boys, Jeremy and Adam, constantly remind me of an appointment we have made to have another family picture taken at the top of Squaw Valley next Christmas.It?s time to get an update on the beloved picture that decorates my web page now.How can I crack up before this picture is taken?So little things like hiking and skiing with the family dwell on my mind, providing the long term stability I need.

?By the way, if you want to view any pictures taken since the stroke, go to http://deep.berkeley.edu/~marc/stroke.I look forward to being in touch with all of you soon.Happy New Year!Love - Marc?


Lest you think Marc has totally given up skiing for this season, he's merely expanded his repertoire to snowless skiing, with a little help from Adam and me.  You see, we'd have been pining to own the $1,200 'Skier?s Edge', an almost assuredly destined-for-the-garage ski exercise machine which nonetheless was a ?must-have? because ofcourse we want to ski like the US Ski Team.So?in October, Skier?s Edge happened to run a special where for ?free? we could also receive the mogul skiing platform and safety bar, a $500value, with the basic machine (which comes with only ski poles for balance).Adam and I saw our big chance, thinking Marc could use the machine with the bar.And voila!He can, as you can see from the picture on the web site.In fact, he spends 30 minutes on it 3-4 times a week, far more than Adam or I.Some things never change, as it turns out.


Marc's walking is better than ever, in part due to the reentry into our lives of 'crazy' Dennis.  He's the PT who had Marc on the Nordic track and the spinner and then took him down our basement stairs, all in the same 2 hours.We hired him privately once the home health program ended.Dennis understands Marc?s frustrations and is all for allowing Marc to try whatever he wants.Dennis? idea was to build on Marc? uphill walking, since that?s what he does most easily.Far from gradually increasing the uphill rise on a gradual basis, they started on Marin Avenue - why not?! Marin goes straight up - at about 20 degrees. On the 6 month anniversary of the stroke, they walked from the fountain at the bottom up about .4 mile, then the remaining .1 mile to our house.Many of us wonder if we could do the same (although we?re all clear none of us wants to?).Some of his therapists feel that he should focus on more basic things, like being able to balance with equal weight on both feet, which still eludes him.However, he?s so psyched whenever he works with Dennis that it?s clear they need to forge a compromise.


I wish that compromise was something I was better at.I know Marc needs me to monitor his walking, but I?m sure there are times when I could back off ?but I don?t.This has done great things for our relationship and conversations.Here is a typical interchange:


Nancy: Stand up tall and put weight on your right leg.

Marc:I am putting weight on my right leg.

Nancy (kicking Marc in the right foot, which moves, thereby proving her point while destabilizingMarc): No you?re not.

Marc: Stop kicking me.I?m going to fall.

Nancy: No you?re not.You haven?t yet.(Good scientific data, no?)

Or

Nancy: Stand up tall.I want to look up to you.

Nancy: Point your right shoulder forward. ?Headlights.?(An old skiing trick to get one to keep pointing one?s shoulders downhill.)

Nancy: Exaggerated left heel down.No, that was flatfooted.No, that was toe first.Great heel.!No, flatfooted.

Nancy:Look at your head.You?re not standing straight anymore.


If you?re wondering where Marc is in this ?conversation?, he?s using his brain cells to process whatever he can, which is not 3 sets of directions at once.He is so deep in concentration that he often wears what I call - G-d strike me dead - the Dubya ?deer in the headlights? look.I?m learning to cool it, though. The PTs now want him to walk at home without a cane, holding on to my arm, and that is soooo difficult that even I just let it happen.


Inspired by Dennis, Adam and I decided that the 3 of us could watch the 4 hour version of ?The Fellowship of the Ring? downstairs on our surround sound TV/DVD system.We did get there, but Marc could have lived without the spill on his first step.At least he fell backwards, against a wall. Nancy saw her life flash as Marc starting yelling that his left elbow was in pain, but that ended up to be minor.It seems that he also strained his neck, since 2 days later he could not move it to one side.There was lots of pain, but the worst was that 4 days of therapy were spent on neck spasms, to the detriment of everything else.We can report, however, that the movie was fantastic.


In November, we said good-bye to Darth Vader, the most gruesome of Marc?s duct tape arm-torture devices, and welcomed his new, state-of-the-art arm-torture device.It is, in reality, a high tech version of the adjustable splint he had at Herrick and abandoned the day his home-based OT saw it and said ?Ack!? (Photos of these devices are on the web site.) Marc can adjust the angle of his wrist and elbow without having to take the splint on and off.That, and the introduction of Neurontin for nerve pain, has reduced the pain in his shoulder area, which is also strengthening on a steady basis.Nonetheless, recovery in the arm remains a long-term goal.


We have had good news from the cardiologist.He sees no reason for Marc to think about heart surgery.There is no more vegetation on his heart (which is more than we can say for much of what is in our refrigerator) and the amount of blood flowing backward from the mitral valve is only slightly greater than it was before.Marc will be evaluated again in 6 months, but it?s more probable that his valve might heal more rather than worsen. Needless to say, the news really lifted a weight from our shoulders.


Our wonderful friends continue to cook for and pamper us.My culinary skills are clearly getting rusty, but not Marc or Adam?s.At Thanksgiving, Adam ?took over? the turkey, producing the Silver Palate?s turkey with stuffing that was exquisitely delicious.Marc was not deterred from making his sweet potato casserole, one-handedly peeling many pounds of the baked, and thus sticky, tubers.We had a terrific day with our friends Michael, Merle, Deborah, and Andrea Fajans, and Nancy?s mother and brother Bob.We hope you ?got? our toast to all of you, along with our heartfelt thanks, for the enormous love and support you?ve showered on us.


The kids are doing great, which makes up for a lot.Per usual, Jeremy flew in the week before Adam got off from school and headed for Tahoe 48 hours later.He once again had early season powder, which he enjoyed on two year?s worth of Chanukah gifts - skis and boots.(We remember fondly giant Lego castles costing a bloody fortune - $60.Ah, boys and their ever more expensive toys?)He?s stuck up in Reno today, where he spent New Year?s eve with some friends, due to a Sierra Blizzard.We?re not sure if he?ll get dropped off at Tahoe and ski for a few days or come home once the roads open.Jer decided not to apply to grad school now and is using the Net to explore jobs at ski resorts.


Adam has been accepted at theUniv. of Oregon (rolling admissions) and has 95% of his other applications done.It was great that his first response was a yes. The enterprising young man has gotten himself a job as a ticket checker/line control person at a Tahoe ski resort where he enjoys hanging with other young guys whose greatest passion is also skiing.The last few days he snared enough skiers using the wrong passes to net himself $50 in bounties!He waits eagerly for the first stolen ski pass to present itself, a prize worth $100.When not skiing, Adam is doing some schoolwork and a goodly amount of partying.The best was a Middle Ages party in which he and six male friends dressed in period clothes, invited 5 fair maidens/wenches, and dined on beef stew, rabbit, and duck.It was hysterical to see them taking the costumes so seriously and slightly less funny that Marc and I ended up doing all the cooking.But that?s another story?

I imagine you have other things to do with your time than read this letter, so I?ll quit here.Again, we wish you and your families only wonderful things for the next year.We?ll ?talk? to you again soon.


With love - Nancy, and Marc, Jeremy, and Adam