Dear Everyone,

He has gone where pain and suffering are no more.

Whenever he was able to be at the computer, he checked the blog first thing. Your e-mails REALLY MATTERED to him. He loved them … and I think in some sense he loved you all.

I never thanked you for all my birthday messages, but I do now. We had a nice party…about a dozen people, ranging in age from 4 months to 82 years, sitting around the dining room table which had been covered with lots of newspaper, picking our own lovely boiled local shrimp, eating corn on the cob and homemade biscuits , and later eating watermelon; a good deal of white wine went down our gullets, too. I should add, no cooking was done by me. My dearest first cousin, also named Harriet (we’re both named for her mother), did it all, just about.

It was a happy time. Jim made it so.

He came like the wind, like the wind touched everything, and like the wind was gone.

These are words Jim said to me several books ago, in the weary but always thrilling hours of putting the manuscript to bed, ready to carry to New York in the morning — I remember grabbing a piece of discarded script and scrawling those words up the margin, because they were so beautiful. He was talking about Rand. I of course am not.

I know he touched all of you. Thanks for being there.

Here is his final interview, given to the local newspaper. Notice the date:

Robert Jordan aims to get back on feet
By Bill Thompson

Thursday,September 13, 2007

Jim Rigney intends to “keep marching to the horizon.” Stage One is getting back on his feet.

Known to millions of readers as Robert Jordan, the best-selling author of “The Wheel of Time” fantasy series continues to cross swords with the rare blood disease amyloidosis, a progressive disorder he was first diagnosed with in December 2005 at the Medical University of South Carolina.

Subsequently, the author has been undergoing treatment at the Mayo Clinic in Rochester, Minn.

Rigney reports that with the help of the Mayo Clinic, he is keeping things under control.

“My numbers are still good, in the normal range. We will be going back up to the Mayo in about a month and we’ll see what the status is. Now I just have to get my foot healed up so I have a chance of getting out of this wheelchair. Strange to think that my foot, of all things, would be giving me the most trouble. It’s getting better, but unfortunately the amyloidosis makes healing go very slowly.

“When I get the foot better then I can start on the process of walking again. I hope to do this in another two or three months.”

While there has been no improvement in heart function and no change in his overall prognosis as of June, Rigney says improvement remains possible. And he’s determined.

“I’ve got promises to keep.”

And he did march, guys. He marched toward that horizon until he crossed it, where we cannot follow yet.

The word now, the only possible word, is Onward.

Go for it. With love.

Consider yourselves hugged.
Harriet

It is with great sadness that I tell you that the Dragon is gone. RJ left us today at 2:45 PM. He fought a valiant fight against this most horrid disease. In the end, he left peacefully and in no pain. In the years he had fought this, he taught me much about living and about facing death. He never waivered in his faith, nor questioned our God’s timing. I could not possibly be more proud of anyone. I am eternally grateful for the time that I had with him on this earth and look forward to our reunion, though as I told him this afternoon, not yet. I love you bubba.

Our beloved Harriet was at his side through the entire fight and to the end. The last words from his mouth were to tell her that he loved her.

Thank each and everyone of you for your prayers and support through this ordeal. He knew you were there. Harriet reminded him today that she was very proud of the many lives he had touched through his work. We’ve all felt the love that you’ve been sending my brother/cousin. Please keep it coming as our Harriet could use the support.

Jason will be posting funeral arrangements.

My sincerest thanks.

Peace and Light be with each of you,

Wilson
Brother/Cousin
4th of 3

To Catalyst: Never, never loose faith. RJ did not. Harriet hasn’t. I haven’t. Going through what we have, our faith is only strengthened. Besides, if God didn’t exist, we would have never had Jim. We did. God does. Remember my Brother/Cousin, my friend, think of him fondly and glorify God’s name.

Editor’s Note:
The entire staff of Dragonmount.com would like to extend its most deepest sympathies to Robert Jordan’s family. He touched all of our lives in some way and we wish him the rest and peace he deserves. We will be posting information in the near future about where you can send condolences. Please check the News Section for these updates.

During Dragon Conn in Atlanta last week rumors flew about that my brother/cousin was gravely ill, wasn’t eating and had in fact had “Last Rites” administered. I just got off the telephone with him and he’s surrounded by laughing friends and relatives and is about to enjoy a shrimp-based bowl of gumbo. He got a chuckle out of news of his impending departure.

Go back and reread RJ’s blog entries and you’ll know exactly what is going on. Armed with those medical facts, if any of you have shared time with very ill relatives you’ll know what person looked like and felt like during the ordeal. RJ looks and feels just like that. So, we’re not taking any family photos at the moment.

Fact: He is ill, very ill. He has shared that with you in medical jargon. He has told you the prognosis of his physicians and told you that he plans to beat their predictions. I pray that he will. But should it not be in the cards, he’ll manage that phase of his life as he has every step he has taken thus far. So, should you hear another “rumor” it’s just that. Until you hear it from RJ, Harriet or from me, it’s just a rumor.

Fact: He’s told you that his appetite comes and goes. It does. He’s taking a handful of medications everyday to help him in the fight. Unfortunately some of them have adverse affects on the appetite. Pretty much like a kid in that regard right now. He eats when he feels up to it, and says “No Thanks!” when he doesn’t. When I visited a couple of weeks back he had a hankering for Cream of Mushroom soup served with rice and a dash of tabasco. RJ and Harriet were busy in the parlor, so I whipped up the soup. He told me it was good, but not as good as when Harriet prepares it. Duh!?!?

Fact: The deacon from his church visits their home for weekly worship services and to bring communion. RJ doesn’t feel up to sitting on two hundred year old wooden pews for an hour. Painful even for someone in the peak of health, which you know RJ is not. These visits are to share communion, which is a weekly (at least) part of RJ and Harriet’s lives. Same goes for Janet and me. When RJ is physically stronger, he’ll be back on the hard pews. I hope that whatever your faith that you are able to “Commune” with God often.

Bottom line guys, he’s been completely forthcoming with you from the very beginning of this ordeal. He intends to continue that dialog. When he and I spoke a few minutes ago, I asked if he wanted to end this rumor or for me to do it? I then reminded him that the last time he wrote you he was feeling as he put it “a bit viperish” and that his posting had kicked over a huge ant hill. He allowed that perhaps I should write you guys this time. Calmer heads and all.

Keep the prayer lines open please. He’s a stubborn old cuss but welcomes, appreciates, yes even needs your collective petitions to our God. I’ll be seeing RJ and Harriet in a week and will give them a hug and an “I Love You” from each and every one of you.

Thanks for caring.

Peace be with each of you,

Wilson
Brother/Cousin
4th of 3

Epilog: Yes he is continuing to work through all of this medical calamity. MOL is going into the word processor and onto audio tapes almost daily. Not every day mind you, because the medical fight takes first priority. But, he told you he’d finish and he will. Fact is that it has been finished in his head for years. During a recent family sit around, he became the Gleeman and told the bones of it ALL to Harriet and me. You read that right, I did say ALL. Don’t ask, ain’t telling. Two and a half hours of story telling by the Creator himself went by in the twinkling of an eye. Truly magical. All I can say is WOW! Best stuff he’s ever done. MOL is going to knock your socks off! That’s a promise.

Just a very quick check-in to let you know I’m still alive and, with the inestimable help of the Mayo Clinic in Rochester, Mn, I am keeping things under control. Once again my Lambda Light chain numbers are in the normal range. Now I just have to get my foot healed up so I have a chance of getting out of this bloody wheel chair. Strange to think that my foot off all things, would be giving me he most trouble. Unfortunately, the Amyloidosis makes healing go very slowly. Oh, well. You put up with what you have to put up with while working your way around or over the “minor” problem.

I hear things now and then floating out in the air. For instance, I hear that word was floating about ComicsCon in San Diego that I am displeased with Red Eagle. Too true. Too very true. In a few more months that last contract they have with anyone on God’s green earth that so much as mentions my name will come to an end and we can see what happens after that. You see, among other things they forgot an old dictum of LBJ back when he was just a Congressman from Texas, when he famously, or infamously, said “Don’t spit in the soup. boys. We all have to eat.” Worse, Red Eagle though they could tell me they spit in the soup, or pee in it, if they wanted to and there wasn’t anything I could do to stop them. You can’t apologize your way out of that with me, not that they tried. There isn’t enough money in the world to buy your way out of it with me. Not that they tried that either. So they get no further help from me. Once they are completely out of the picture, we’ll see what happens.

I seem to feeling rather viperish today. I also hear that a certain writer, on hearing that I had heart problems, announced that his cardiologist, on holding his (the writer’s) heart in his hands said that he could have been holding the heart of a sixteen year-old or some such. My cardiologist told me much the same thing, but I made him give it back. Ahem. A question occurs. What was wrong that anyone had their filthy fingers palping his actual heat. All my heart examinations have been via catheritazation or electrocardiogram or echocardiogram or the like. Only if they saw cause would anyone be sticking fingers into my chest must less fingering my heart. Some discrepancy there, eh?

On, well. Down, Simba! Down, Big Boy. That’s what Harriet says when I get like this. Lets get on to something a little more pleasant.

Many people have given gifts to Hematologic Malignancies Program –
amyloidosis research since the last time I thanked anyone. For donations since then. my thanks go out to Virginia A. Schomp and Chip
Bigness, Mrs. Janna Kamenetsky, Mr. Tony Witherspoon, Mr. Ryan Breen,
Mr. Nathan Chu, Mr. Todd Lyons, Ms. Kathleen D. Moore, Mr. Doug
Carrithers, Mrs. Deborrah M. Kozel, Ms. Melissa Craib and Friends at
TarValon.net, Mr. Eric Selby, Mrs. Carolyn Goodwin, Dr. Chris
O’Sullivan, Mr. Georgy Kantor, Mr. Andrew Childs, Mr. Doug Peters, Mr.
Scott Dimick, Ms. Pam Harley and the Hattie Mae Lesley Foundation. Thank you very much, one and all.

I’ll get back to when I can. Until then, it’s back to the grindstone for me.
RJ

To All,

2:58 pm (1458 hours, hooah!), 23 July 2007

I’m stealing a line from a friend and big WOT fan, “leave the imagination to RJ.”

He’s fine! Having one of those “rough patch” days today, but fine. In fact, he had a hearty breakfast of Sauerkraut and a Hamburger. You read that right. Yuck! Not to my liking, but gives you an idea of the cast iron nature of his stomach. I guess eating cold C rations in the rain and mud of Vietnam will cause you to think anything is good. In fairness to his taste buds, he would season the C’s with a few dashes of hot sauce, a secret his father shared with him.

RJ and Harriet are off to the Mayo tomorrow for the 90-day check up. Her biggest concern is that their flight departs during the time frame that the President of the US is due to arrive in Charleston for the debates to be held at the Citadel tomorrow evening. They also have a family affair to attend during this trip. So, they are not due back in Charleston until the middle of next week.

He’ll let you guys know the results of the trip after their return. Not exactly sure when, but after.

FYI: A woman that I adore whom shall remain nameless, but who’s initials are….. HARRIET, will be celebrating a birthday on 4 August. You might want to extend her a Happy Birthday message.

For Sadie: Jason at Dragon Mount has my personal contact info. If you will email him a “ship to” address, I will personally get RJ to sign some bookplates “to Sadie” (about business card size, peel off stickers) to place in your books. Consider them my birthday gift to you, a survivor. Kudos girl. Figuratively of course, but keep the dresser in front of the door. Throw yourself headlong into your schoolwork. Thanks for your prayers for my brother/cousin. I will offer prayers for your continued success and that your Mother and Sister find their way back into the light.

I ask you to keep the prayers coming, they are still needed. Please toss in a few for our men and women in uniform.

Blessings on you all,

Wilson
Brother/Cousin
4th of 3

I don’t know exactly why the calendar contest is being limited to US residents. It is something the legal department insisted on. Now, if it was me, and I lived in Canada or Finland or somewhere, I might just take a chance that they wouldn’t look too closely at the return address. Or maybe I’d ask Justin to be a cut-out for me. But that’s just me. I would never suggest that any of you do these things. No. Never. Wouldn’t be prudent.

RJ

Well guys, I’m back. I know you’d like to hear from me every week or even more frequently, but I’m afraid that once a month is going to be about it for a time. I am trying to put every spare moment into A Memory of Light. There aren’t too many of those spare moments right now. My meds induce fatigue, so it is hard to keep going. I’ll fight it through, though. Don’t worry. The book will be finished as soon as I can manage it. NOT in time for this Christmas, I fear. I don’t know where that rumor got started. Except that Tom Doherty, my publisher, wants to put out the Prologue if I can have it polished to my satisfaction by August. That isn’t easy. I always hate letting go. I have rewritten prologues almost from scratch after I finished the rest of the novel. I always think I can do better with another go around. Oh, well, I’ll give it a try.

The news from Mayo is mainly good. My Lambda Light Chain numbers are actually in the normal range for a second consecutive month. Yes! And the lambda/gamma ratio also is in the normal range for a second straight month. Again, yes! That’s the good news. The bad news is that Doctor Hayman hasn’t changed my prognosis. There hasn’t been any improvement in heart function, and while there may be some improvement, it may very well be that what I have is what I will have to live with. That is going strictly by the odds. Which she says if anyone can beat, she thinks it is me. I certainly intend to. Two years just isn’t enough to do what I need to do. And even five, which she isn’t willing to bet on, isn’t enough. Don’t talk to me about no stinking odds, gringo. I’ve got promises to keep. (With apologies to Eli Wallach.) As far as the heart function goes, I had one heart doctor put me on restrictions; no heavier that five pound dumbbells and so forth. That seems to me to just be holding on in place, and I can’t afford to do that. I have to fight back. I have to get back to marching for the horizon. So I am ditching the doctor’s advice. Very slowly (I don’t want to fall over from a heart attack) I will start building with again. I look forward to the day I can tell the Mayo people that I am benching 100-pound dumbbells again. I won’t push too hard, but I won’t stand still either. I can see the horizon. I want to see what’s on the other side.

Now, there is a gathering of Amyloidosis patients and care givers at the Mayo in Rochester in July. Unfortunately, I won’t be able to be there, as I would have to turn around a week later and make the trip back to Rochester for my three-month checkup. That is a tiring trip, frankly, and I don’t think I can face it twice in the space of ten days.

Here is the contact info:

www.amyloidosissupport.com

Amyloidosis patients care givers relatives and friends- Midwest-East- West-South – No Geographical Limit-Must RSVP

Amyloidosis Support Groups Meeting

Mayo/Rochester Minnesota

July 14th – Meeting

July 15th – Tour

Guest Speaker – Dr. Morie Gertz and others to be announced later (I hope)

RSVP: Sandy Williams s.williams@safetyspeedycut.com

Muriel Finkel muriel@finkelsupply.com

There are other meetings scheduled. I think the next after Rochester is in Atlanta. You can check at Amyloidosis.com to learn more.

Dr. Gertz is THE guru when it comes to amyloidosis research. He’s the man!

For Olivia, my prayers are with you. MS is a hard row to hoe. It sounds like you are hanging tough and giving it a good fight.

For Rion, any convention that wants my attendance should go through my publisher, Tor Books. I have to tell you, though, that at the moment I’m really not up to attending cons, not even cons that are very close to where I live. I hope that maybe by next year that will change. Right now, getting out to a restaurant is a big expedition, and we don’t do it very often. I was recently accepted for membership in the Carolina Yacht Club, and took Wilson and Janet to brunch. Sounds like a small thing, but it was enough to exhaust me. So until I manage to regain some strength, cons probably aren’t in the cards for me.

For Sumana, thanks for your good wishes and your advice. I have only intermittent pain so far, and I am managing that pretty well. I have some pills if it really gets down to it, but I usually can work it through without the pills.

For Douglas Scott, thanks your prayers. Prayers are always welcome.

For Piercy, I am Episcopalian, though rather High Church. I haven’t been up to attending services this last year, but either the rector or one of the deacons comes by to give me communion, so I feel that I’m not missing everything. There was a time I could have made the one block to the Cathedral of St.. Luke for communion, but before he died John Paul II put the kibosh on that. Oh, well.

For Joshua, Charleston is a wonderful place to raise a family. There are very good schools, and also some that are not so good, so you do have to watch that. But you’d need to do that anywhere, and the good ones are VERY good indeed. It is smaller than Denver, maybe half the population or a third, but it has more good restaurants. Not just my opinion. Folks coming down from New York are always astonished at the number and quality of restaurants they find. There is a lively arts scene, ranging from numerous painter-operated galleries to the Spoleto Festival (17 days each year of international ballet, modern dance, opera, plays etc). And there are other, smaller festivals during the year, ranging from ethnic (Greek, German, African etc) to international film festivals. And there is the Maritime Festival, of course, with its tall ships and the start of various ocean races. The Concert Association brings in national and international companies during the rest of the year. The Charleston Ballet Theater is first rate (and building a national reputation), as is the Charleston Symphony Orchestra. I won’t try to list the jazz clubs and the like. It is warmer than Denver, and if you want snow sports, you’ll have to drive upstate, but we have terrific beaches, abundant golf courses (we get a fair number of PGA and LPGA tournaments) and tennis courses (again, with a good many pro tournaments). They city is older, of course (founded 1670) and there are a great many historic buildings and gardens. There is fishing, offshore or inshore, for everything from redfish and sea trout to blue marlin, sailfish and king mackerel. Well, that’s kind of a thumbnail description. I didn’t cover everything, of course. Suffice it to say I have found few places in the world where I felt I could live as happily as I do in Charleston, and one reason I don’t live in London, Paris or Melbourne is that I would have to leave Charleston.

For Cheyenne, I’m glad I could help out. We always used to say that in my family all of the men were strong and fierce because the women killed and ate the weak ones. True. ‘Tis true, you know.

Well, guys, I have to hang it up for now. I’ll be back to you when I can, and I promise to keep you abreast of the medical news, whether from Mayo or elsewhere. But my main focus is going to be on A Memory of Light. I think that is how you would want it.

Take care, everybody.

RJ

Wilson has kept you pretty much up to date regarding my numbers, which continue good, so I won’t bother with them. I am hanging in there pretty good, over all. A few bumps, a few potholes, but I work my way around or over them and keep going. Hey, I’ve got commitments to keep, right?

I think I need to put a few things straight about this whole shooting down an rpg in flight thing. First off, it definitely comes under do not try this at home even if you ARE an expert. Expert is defined as anyone who has tried it once and is still breathing. You see, there aren’t many reasons to try such a thing. But when looking right shows certain death coming hotfoot, and looking left shows a crack in the wall that you couldn’t scrape though one time in a million…one in ten million…you instinctively make a dive for the crack. Now I was very lucky. Very lucky. I just happened to be laying down suppression not very far from Mr. NVA when he took his shot, so I only has a small arc to cover. Just a quick shift of the wrist. Still, a lot of luck involved. When the pilot asked what happened, I just said an rpg went off prematurely. I figured he wouldn’t believe what happened. Even some guys who saw it all from other choppers didn’t believe. I heard a lot of “You know, it almost looked like you shot that thing out of the air” and “You were really lucky that thing went off prematurely. I never heard of that happening before.”

Now there’s the matter of actually seeing the rpg in flight. That came from being in the Zone. An RPG is a rocket propelled grenade, and it is fast, fast, fast. I’ve heard a lot of athletes and sportscasters talk about being in the Zone, but I think most of them simply mean they played their A-game. But they weren’t in the Zone, because in the Zone, you don’t make mistakes. None. I discovered this playing baseball and basketball and later football. You can’t always get there, certainly not at will, but when you do…. What happens is that while you are moving at normal speed, everybody else, everything else, is moving in slow motion. Passes float like they were drifting through honey. You have all the time in the world to position yourself. And your vision improves, sharpens. The quarterback has carried out a perfect bootleg. Everybody thinks that fullback coming up the middle has the ball. But even if you didn’t catch the motion when the QB tucked the ball behind his leg, you spot that tiny sliver of ball that just barely shows, and you’re right there to meet him when he reaches the line. Maybe you drop him for a loss before he can get his pass off. In the Zone. That’s the only reason I could make this play.

On another note, I was riding an M-60 on a pintle mount, not a .50 cal. We only had a limited number of Ma-deuces, and we had to be careful not to let any IG inspectors see them because we weren’t authorized to have any at all. Don’t know whether I could have done it with a .50, frankly. A matter of just that much more weight to swing, that much more inertia to overcome. It was damned close even with a 60.

For Dr. J.W. Stubbe, I am on pulse therapy with the dexamethazone, lowering the exposure, and the docs here are watching everything. I have developed pregnazone (SP?) skin, where the skin becomes thin and fragile, easily bruised and easily torn, but I guess it can’t all be good beer and hot chili.

For Paracelsus, I had two nicknames in ‘Nam. First up was Ganesha, after the Hindu god called the Remover of Obstacles. He’s the one with the elephant head. That one stuck with me, but I gained another that I didn’t like so much. The Iceman. One day, we had what the Aussies called a bit of a brass-up. Just our ship alone, but we caught an NVA battalion crossing a river, and wonder of wonders, we got permission to fire before they finished. The gunner had a round explode in the chamber, jamming his 60, and the fool had left his barrel bag, with spares, back in the revetment. So while he was frantically rummaging under my seat for my barrel bag, it was over to me, young and crazy, standing on the skid, singing something by the Stones at the of my lungs with the mike keyed so the others could listen in, and Lord, Lord, I rode that 60. 3000 rounds, an empty ammo box, and a smoking barrel that I had burned out because I didn’t want to take the time to change. We got ordered out right after I went dry, so the artillery could open up, and of course, the arty took credit for every body recovered, but we could count how many bodies were floating in the river when we pulled out. The next day in the orderly room an officer with a literary bent announced my entrance with “Behold, the Iceman cometh.” For those of you unfamiliar with Eugene O’Neil, the Iceman was Death. I hated that name, but I couldn’t shake it. And, to tell you the truth, by that time maybe it fit. I have, or used to have, a photo of a young man sitting on a log eating C-rations with a pair of chopsticks. There are three dead NVA laid out in a line just beside him. He didn’t kill them. He didn’t chose to sit there because of the bodies. It was just the most convenient place to sit. The bodies don’t bother him. He doesn’t care. They’re just part of the landscape. The young man is glancing at the camera, and you know in one look that you aren’t going to take this guy home to meet your parents. Back in the world, you wouldn’t want him in your neighborhood, because he is cold, cold, cold. I strangled that SOB, drove a stake through his heart, and buried him face down under a crossroad outside Saigon before coming home, because I knew that guy wasn’t made to survive in a civilian environment. I think he’s gone. All of him. I hope so. I much prefer being remembered as Ganesha, the Remover of Obstacles.

For Carol S, no one has said word one about the disease stabilizing yet. It’s just too premature. For now, the fact that my numbers continue to be good is enough for me.

For Cody Griffin, thanks for your service, and congrats on the promotion. I’ll ride the Ma-deuce on your APC any time, Cody. Who ever said I was sane?

For Me, please let your father know he is in my prayers.

For Ransomedge,. you also are in my prayers. Keep fighting, man, and you can beat it.

For Doug Hall, thank you for your service. For Cindy Oberschlake, I know the area where you father was killed, but I never met him. I’m afraid that he died before I reached ‘Nam.

For Kathy, I’m afraid I didn’t know your father. Sorry.

For Lelon White, I’m amazed that you are still bothering with me, considering the problems you have in your own life. You take care of yourself.

For David, hang in there, man. You can beat it. You will beat it. The first step is refusing to give up. That’s the key.

Well that’s about enough for now. I have up days and down days, and today just hasn’t decided which way it’s going yet. I think I’m going to try to relax until I can figure it out.

Take care, everybody.

RJ

Well a bit rocky, but not too.

Janet, my ever-youthful bride of 32 years and I spent the weekend with RJ and Harriet in Charleston. They are both as fine as anyone could be in the middle of such an ordeal.

The weakness persists, an unwanted side affect of the medications. Claims that he could sleep 22 hours a day if Harriet were to allow it. She won’t. You’ll recall that we’ve both spoken cryptically of the nasty side affects of the drugs required to fight Amyloidosis. Prolonged exposure to both the Revlimid and Dexamethasone have left his skin thinned and fragile. As a result, he bruises and cuts pretty easily these days, so we passed on the opportunity to wrestle in the side yard. The cuts that are there are attended to daily by the best warder a person could wish for, Harriet. His hair is back in spades however, as is the beard. Not a gray strand on top, not one. The Lambda light chain number was up ever so slightly this month. No one, not even the Mayo, is concerned about that. Most likely this was due to the month of February being off the Revlimid and that in March they had cut the dosage by 40%. Besides, he told me he had an angel looking out for him. Really!

Though I’ve known him, well, all my life, he still hits me with a tid bit from time to time that I have either forgotten or never knew. Here’s one of those. When he was 2 to 3 years old, seems he would on occasion dart out into the street in front of their home. Looking for traffic was out of the question. Adults would scamper after him and tell him that he had to stay out of the street or a car would hit him. He told them not to worry, that he had an angel who looked out for him and wouldn’t let him be harmed. I asked him how he knew about the angel and he said he could sense that he was there. RJ somehow felt that the angel was a he even though angels are most often described as being without sexual definition. RJ even felt that were he to spin quickly around he would catch a fleeting glimpse of his angel as he vaporized to be unseen. RJ is feeling like, if not looking a bit like; one of those cars may have tagged him just a bit. But he knows that he has his angel looking out for him. I wonder if it’s the same angel from his early youth. Hope so.

For Janice. Prayers offered for your Peace Officer as he also fights this awful disease.

For Sherry, thanks for the praise. Undeserved. It’s easy to love someone who loves you as much as RJ loves this guy. Amazing how the ones seemingly in need of strength give it to those around them.

For Major Jim. First, thank you for your service. A correction however, RJ flew IN helicopters, he wasn’t the pilot. Volunteered he did, to be a door gunner on a huey. Freaking insane. Imagine if you can a rather large 19 year old tethered to the chopper, standing outside on the skid, laying suppressing machine gun fire on the landing zone in front of and below the helicopter. On one occasion, one of the times he knew he would be dead in seconds, an RPG (rocket propelled grenade) was fired at their ship as they were slowing to land. The business end of the grenade is smaller than a football and travels at blinding speed. RJ saw it approaching and knew they were all dead. The only thing he could do to defend his crew was to fire his machine gun at the rapidly approaching object. What are the chances of hitting it? With the luck of Ganesh, his bullets found the target and it exploded, close enough that shrapnel rained on the helicopter.

To Ryan Toy. Thank you for sharing about your fight. If a 14 year old can do it…. Inspirational you are. Thanks.

For Sgt Cody. Shook his hand, hugged his neck, kissed him on the cheek and told him I loved him. Hope that covers your request. From the heart, thanks for your service. Hooah!

Do keep the prayers coming. We’re a long way from not needing them.

Wilson
Brother / Cousin
4th of 3

[Webmaster’s note: Due to a recent hard drive failure, all replies to this posting were lost. We sincerely apologize for the trouble. You are encouraged to re-post any message you had in reply to this blog post. Thanks]

The good news is that there has been no change since we last communicated guys. Harriet and RJ had to fight like hell to keep it there, but that goes with the territory these days.

He told you that he’d be visiting the Mayo on every 90 days and that last month’s visit was the first of those. Things don’t always go according to plan when you’re in a fight, you have to shift and adapt to the situation. Their visit last month lasted longer than expected. The medication regimen had to be changed due to some pretty nasty side affects. Testing required that RJ come off his blood thinner, the steroid and the miracle drug, revlimid. After months on this experimental drug got him into a near “normal” range, he was being pulled off for at least 30 days. We held our breath. The grand news is that the Lambda Light Chain number that was 2.7 a month ago was tested at on 2.74. FREAKING AMAZING! The polyps and the “mass” he described before are also gone. We joked that when they denied him food for over a day in preparation for further testing that his body looked for nourishment and there sat the aforementioned mass looking, well, pretty damned appetizing. Gone. So, back on the Revlimid. Pray that the numbers continue downward, that his body continues the slow march of shedding the beta amyloid deposits and that he regains his strength.

RJ had me laughing to the point of pain yesterday. You’ll recall his wish list included sky diving and that I promised you I wouldn’t let him throw himself from a perfectly good airplane. Seems he had a DREAM the other night that I’d gotten my way and we were at Lake Tahoe skiing. As he was negotiating the ski slope he was hit by a hot dogging snow mobile driver and had his leg broken in the collision. As they were hauling him off to be fixed up, he was shouting at me “you wouldn’t let me sky dive because it was too dangerous, brought me skiing instead and now look what happened.” Maybe I’ll rethink the parachuting, not.

Long road ahead of us gang. I’ve looked but can find no one of the yellow available. Recovery will take a lot of time. I’ve asked before, now I beg, patience please. NO NEWS IS GOOD NEWS.

Peace be upon you all.

Wilson
Brother/Cousin
4th of 3