Tag: love

Featured

HOME

On By HschichieIn blog2 Comments

I have thought about writing this post a lot; in anticipation of when we get to go home.

As our family has navigated chronic disease over the years, we have learned something that can’t be measured in lab values or scans: there is incredible healing in simply being home.

No matter how sick my brother Ryan was, he wanted to be home. For Samantha, home meant routine. It meant familiar sounds, familiar smells, her own bed, and our family together. We were always at our best when we were home.

So today, I am incredibly happy to write these four simple words:

Cynde is home.

That doesn’t mean home is without its challenges.

Cynde came home on TPN (Total Parenteral Nutrition), which provides all of her nutrition intravenously because cancer has made it impossible for her digestive system to absorb what she needs. TPN bypasses the gastrointestinal tract completely, but it isn’t as simple as hanging a bag of fluids. It requires careful monitoring of blood sugar, electrolytes, liver function, and signs of infection.

Because her digestive system isn’t reliably absorbing medications either, treatments like blood thinners have to be given by injection instead of by mouth. Hence, Pops is giving Cynde a shot 2x a day.

But they are home.

The view outside their windows is beautiful. The sheets are soft. There are no IV pumps chiming every few minutes and no monitors beeping through the night. Home looks different than it did a month ago, but home has a remarkable way of making room for life’s changes.

Pops sent me a picture tonight. Cynde is calm. She’s smiling. She looks comfortable. And right now, comfort feels like the very best medicine.

I also have to give a heartfelt shout-out to their incredible neighbors.

Neighbors showed up last night with a perfectly cooked ribeye steak, mashed potatoes, and several homemade meals—all carefully labeled and prepared with love. It should surprise no one that the ribeye and mashed potatoes disappeared first.

Later, Pops sent a text that perfectly captured the moment:

“I am so happy. I had a great meal from a lovely, unexpected source. Sometimes these times bring out the best in everyone.”

He’s right.

As the daughter, I don’t have the words to thank everyone who has reached out, sent prayers, delivered meals, checked in, or simply loved our family through this.

This diagnosis hit us like a wrecking ball.

To be perfectly honest, we are still grieving the loss of my brother, Ryan. Before we could even catch our breath, ovarian cancer entered our lives. The timing has been overwhelming, and there have been days when it has felt like the ground beneath us disappeared.

But then something beautiful happened…..and continuous to happen….

Our family, our friends, our neighbors, and our community stepped in. Again.

You have shown up with love, phone calls, hugs, prayers, and countless acts of kindness. You have cared not only for Cynde but for Pops, making sure he remembers to eat while he spends every waking moment caring for the woman he loves.

We will get through this. We know we can do hard things.

But it is so much easier when someone is walking beside you, holding your hand along the way.

Thank you doesn’t feel like enough.

But from the bottom of our hearts…

Thank you.

And to home.

Featured

No Soup For You!

On By HschichieIn blog3 Comments

I am a big Seinfeld fan, and sometimes my mind works in odd ways….when we talked through today’s update, my thought went to ‘No Food For You’! So I think you know where I am going with this.

Cynde’s tum is fighting a big fight. It seems like that is where her cancer cells have set up camp, making eating or drinking impossible. I started to type nearly impossible, but really, it is impossible right now for her to get the nutrition she needs through traditional means, i.e., eating and drinking.

And if you take eating and drinking (or the lack thereof) out of the equation, she looks really good. Cynde is committed to walking, standing, sitting up, and moving her body as much as she can. Side note, she pooped yesterday!!! YAY POOP!

But this tummy issue is a big one. And the doctors have decided to give her belly a rest while it fights this assy cancer.

You know what is really cool? Science and the time we live in. For the time being, Cynde will receive nutrition through a process called TPN (Total Parenteral Nutrition). TPN is nutrition delivered directly into the bloodstream through a central IV line; it completely bypasses the digestive tract. Although your tummy may rumble, saying it’s hungry, it is really your cells that need to be fed. TPN is the McDonald’s milkshake of intravenous nutrition. It contains:

  • Calories (dextrose)
  • Protein (amino acids)
  • Fats (lipids)
  • Vitamins and minerals
  • Electrolytes and fluids

The good thing is that she can go home on TPN. She will have a backpack that will deliver this complex nutrition to her hungry cells, which are eager to fatten up so they can get back out there and fight this assy cancer.

We want this fix to be temporary- the tummy likes to feel useful, and we don’t want it to get the impression that it’s not needed, but it might take a while. Instead of taking her to lunch, maybe go to a fabulous garden….ironically, flowers don’t have tummies either 🙂

Cynde moved out of the ICU today, and that was a win. Poop is a win. And having a team that acknowledges the best treatment protocol is also a win.

She also said she has been craving a big, icy Coca-Cola. This is funny because she is not a soda girl. I told her this will be her celebratory drink once she can have a sip or two.

Pops is good. After doing a tour of the hotels in Aurora, Hampton Inn, Comfort Inn, La Quinta, he has decided that the Hampton Inn is the winner, but there is no place like home.

To Home! For Cynde and Pops, let’s try to picture them back in Arvada, TPN backpack and all, watching the sunset on their beautiful patio.

Tomorrow, my friends.

PS- I’ve gotten a couple of questions about my WordPress site. Right now, you have to click on the comments section to see the comments. You can also follow my updates here. I am working on making the comments available under the post. Hold tight!

Featured

My Mama’s Post to her Son:

On By HschichieIn blogLeave a comment

Hey All:

We are doing better and finding ways to moved forward. As this is not only my blog but our ‘place’ to memorialize family memories, I am honored to share my Mama’s words about our Ryan.

Good Job Mama, your fierce bravery astounds us.


Good afternoon. I’m Judi Bishop, Ryan’s mom. Thank you for coming to celebrate my amazing son. A special thanks to all of you who have been so supportive of our family during this difficult Mito journey.

Many of you knew Ryan when he was a great athlete, an outstanding football player and skier, an intelligent, dedicated and successful businessman and a wonderful friend. He loved sailing, scuba diving, and hiking. He spent a month in the Wind River with NOLS.

He had an infectious laugh, an awesome sense of humor and a love of travel and adventure.

Once his illness progressed, he became a stay at home Dad to his 3 sons. Many of you only knew him as the man using the walker or in a wheelchair with a limited ability to speak. But that was not who he was.

Ryan’s love for the outdoors began as a toddler. One of his first words was “outside”, standing at the back door. My Mom said the only time she saw him clean was first thing in the morning and right before bed. He was always playing outside. Someone gave him a white blanket with white satin binding which
immediately became his favorite, of course. It was always dirty and mostly gray. He would sit in front of the washer and dryer until he could get it back. That blanket and his light colored “beary” bear were constantly with him. Beary now resides with his boys but his blankie was “loved” to shreds.

When Ryan began skiing he refused to go to lessons. He spent his first 2 years on the slopes skiing between my legs. Then, one day, he decided to go on his own and took off parallel skiing. He became one of the best bump skiers I have ever seen and loved being on the mountain with the Jr. Ski Patrol in Winter Park.

As an adult, he rafted the Grand Canyon with us twice. The first trip he asked everyone one their opinion on the best way to propose to his wife (aka Sweets). He was very serious about everyone’s opinion and proposed to her after that trip. The 2nd time, he and Sweets both rafted the Canyon with us. I am pretty sure there were a few times Sweets thought she might meet her demise on the trip but she was a trooper and celebrated her birthday on the river.

Once Ryan’s disease progressed, he needed a service dog (aka SD). He became aware of SD but the training for Ryan and SD required weekly trips to Silverthorne. Ryan and I made these weekly trips for months. We loved the time we spent driving up the mountain, having lunch and training with his trainer and his pupper. Later, we drove up to work with the Humane Society in Summit County, showing grade school kids “working” dogs. Ryan loved doing this.

In his last days he asked Colleen, his Godmother, for chili rellenos. She ordered them from the Brewery Bar. We told him we would pick them up at 11 and be there by 12:30. At noon, my cell phone rang wondering where we were. He thought we would be there at 11 and had been impatiently waiting. Once there, we brought him a chili relleno, a beef burrito and green chili. He then wanted to know where his margarita was. So, we made him a margarita.

One of his last requests was for a queen bed on the outdoor deck. He requested it on Thursday morning. By 1:00 in the afternoon, the family had rallied and Ryan had a place to rest outside. Ryan was in it in no time and loved being back outdoors again. He passed on the outdoor mattress with a light breeze blowing over him.

During his whole illness, he never lost his sense of humor, his love for Jen and their boys, his family, his service dog, and his love of Chex Mix.

Ryan was a brave, loyal, loving son, brother, husband and dad. His boys and his wife were his greatest joys. He loved hero and super hero movies like Star Wars, Superman, The Avenger and James Bond movies. But Ryan was our superhero. Please honor Ryan by being your own kind of superhero, the best self you can be. Live life to its fullest, love, travel and work to fulfill your dreams. His spirit lives on with us.

Featured

Bouncer

On By HschichieIn blogLeave a comment

I loved this t-shirt. It was circa 1985, Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band. We had field seats, and the concert was amazing.

I was 14 and wore this shirt proudly, along with my 14-year-old smirk and dark eyeliner.

Bruce wasn’t my first concert. When I was in 7th grade, my mom got us tickets to the Jackson 5 at McNichols Stadium in Denver.


Tickets were $50! Sooooo expensive in the early 80s! But she bought three tickets for me, my brother, and my Mama. I also got parachute pants because it was the 80s.

I will remember Michael and Bruce for the rest of my life. So, when my SIL asked if I would take oldest Phew (OP) to a concert for his 13th birthday, I didn’t pause. “Of course. Let’s do this. Who are we seeing?”

Central Cee at the Filmore.

Central Cee is an English rapper. I had not heard his songs, but this was not about me. I made a Central Cee Spotify Channel and listened….until I couldn’t.

Concert Day! I picked up OP and his friend, and we drove to Denver. Dinner first. We went to a local diner and as we looked over the menu, I asked the boys if they ever had a Monte Cristo sandwich.

No.


“It’s a deep-fried club sandwich,” I said, “it will change your life.”

Phew’s friend ordered a Monte Cristo and a Mexican Coke, and he admitted. “My life is forever changed,” he said as he dipped a piece of fried club sandwich into the raspberry jam. Is there anything better? I think not.

My work here is done. But not quite.


The Filmore is a historic building that has been around since 1907 and lives on Colfax. It was converted into a concert hall in the 1990s. Colfax is known for many things: art, music, the homeless, and a street where you can buy almost anything you want.


I kept my boys close. OP was wearing a knitted pink cap, in line with Central Cee rapper attire. As we walked down Colfax, a grizzled man on a bicycle passed us and yelled something we all interpreted differently.

I heard, “I like your hat!”

And I turned to OP and said, “Look how hip you are! He just said I like your hat!”

OP rolled his eyes, “He said your mom is hot.”

“OH! Really? He said I was hot?” I turned to OP’s friend and asked, “What did you hear?”

They both rolled their eyes. “He said your mom is hot.”

Well, look at me! Hot Auntie Mama cruising Colfax. That’s right. Your Auntie Mama is hot.

We got into the Fillmore. Central Cee t-shirts were $50! I remembered Young Heather and her Bruce t-shirt. Yes, let’s get a shirt, 100 times yes.

At the venue, I was neither cool nor hot. I was more like a bouncer for two kids who were loving…..loving seeing this artist. At one point, two taller young men got right in front of OP and his friend. I tapped these “kids” on the shoulder and told them to move; we were here first. They looked at me, rolled their eyes, muttered a word about Karens and moved on.

That’s right! Don’t mess with the Hot Auntie Mama at OP’s first concert, I will take you down! I will take you down!

The concert ended. Phew’s friend told his Mom it was the best night of his life.

Well, that’s it, Hot Auntie Mamas work is done….I need a nap.

Featured

The no good, terrible, awful day.

On By HschichieIn blog1 Comment

My latest new word is terrible.

It rings well.

 The ‘T’ is sharp. It is significant without being confrontational,

The double r’s can be rolled if needed

And the last ‘ble’ leaves room for a long-winded ‘buulllll.’

Say it long…….tttttteerrrrribulllllllllll

Say it again: terrible, terrible, terrible.

It’s nice, isn’t it?

I posted on Tuesday that it was a terrible day.

Some days need to be terrible.

And that’s okay.

And thank you for those who have reached out regarding my cryptic Facebook post.

Tuesday was lined up to be a tough day. My Bro is struggling with his mitochondrial disease, and we were asked to attend a palliative care meeting.

It was election day.  

I had a big work meeting.

Sometimes, I feel the need to test myself emotionally. Responsible Heather will look at my schedule, tell me I have taken on a lot and suggest that I move some things around.

Hold my beer Heather will look at the schedule, say ‘Giddy Up’, fill up a 48 oz coffee thermos and roll out without any pants.

Getting these two to agree is a constant battle.

And then there is my Bro.

Lordy. If you ask my state of mind, I will pause, laugh, and say it’s terrible. My heart breaks for my brother.

I hate this disease.

The other day I told my husband, “I hate that we are here again.”

“But we never left,” he said.

It’s true. Bro’s mitochondrial symptoms emerged in 2008….almost 16 years ago when Sammers was still here…..the long and winding road.

We met on Tuesday at the Franklin Medical Center.

I have said this and will continue to say this…..Palliative Care Meetings at the hospital are the worst! The chairs are terrible, the Kleenex feels like cardboard, the bathroom stinks of antiseptic and poo.

Why can’t we meet at a pub and cry over fried pickles, chicken wings, and proper tissue?

No, we met in a sterile conference room on the 4th floor of the Franklin Medical Center. I marveled at my Bro and my SIL, explaining super-hard decisions, situations, and care for each. This disease is taking control of my Brother’s body, and we cannot pretend otherwise.

I held my Brother’s hand and cried.

I left declining lunch. I had a super important business meeting. I tried to pretend I was super important but really got in my car and cried (again).

For the record, crying in the car is the best. I recommend it quite often.

In my super important meeting, it was announced that we had lost a big client, a client of mine I’d held for seven months.

A client that was given to me with confidence and a side note, “This is yours, don’t f*ck it up.”

I lost it. I f*cked it up.

It’s hard when you f*ck things up.

I remember the first time I saw my Bro. He was swaddled on my grandparent’s bed. For all the times everyone promised me a fun baby brother or sister, he looked like a tiny little, squirmy walnut.

I was handed this tiny little person in 1974 with perhaps the same message, “Hello, Big Sister, here is your Baby Bro, don’t F*ck this up.”

I have two caveats: 1) it was 1974 and someone really might have said that while they served us a baloney sandwich and tossed us in the backseat of a station wagon with no seatbelts while singing John Denver. 2) I must pause and acknowledge that my last two posts have involved extensive use of the ‘F’ word….but stay with me

And hence, the terrible, awful Tuesday. I lost an account. I am losing my Brother.

What was crazy is that once I learned about the business account, I started crying. Sobbing. Stupid business that I had no control over, while I walked out of the palliative care meeting perfectly composed.

My friend put it in great perspective, “You can process losing an account, maybe everything about that day could be rolled into what you could process.”

I came home. I cried and held my husband, and then I went to Costco.

Have you ever been to Costco when you are really sad? I bought two puffy coats and twenty pounds of cheese. It was somewhat therapeutic. Come over any time- you will be warm and constipated.

I came home and watched Trump win. And I watched the Republicans take the Executive, Judicial, and Legislative Branch.

And my heart broke a little more

I say this knowing my audience, and many of my loves voted differently than I did.

I say this as a woman who gave birth to a stillborn baby, knowing now if I lived in places other than Colorado, I could have been convicted of murder.

I say this as a sister whose Brother has a rare disease, not knowing how we will support public health and rare disease research to a new cabinet that does not trust vaccines or science.

I say this as an auntie who will storm the field for my Littles.

I will be back. I am back. Yesterday I went to my OB/GYN. After a blood test, I was told I am now in menopause- so bring on the cats and the magic potions.

Tuesday was a terrible, awful day. But I know who I am. I know who I need to be. And in the words of Hold My Beer Heather…..Giddy Up.