To laugh often and much;
To win the respect of the intelligent people
And the affection of children…
This is to have succeeded.
Ralph Waldo Emerson

When they first started dating, Steve was a high school senior and Julene was a junior.  And Julene’s little sister, JeNelle, was in sixth grade.  Jen immediately saw how special Steve was, and she adored him.  It wasn’t just that he was a tall, handsome, friendly, Capital High School basketball player.  It was much deeper than that; he was truly kind and always had time for a little sister.  In return, Steve also adored Jen.  She was the little sister he never had, and the two quickly formed a special bond.

Beginning in those early years, whenever there was family fun to be had, Steve and Jen were often the instigators.  As adults, they organized adventures and family outings – hiking, biking, camping, rafting… often times Julene joined them, but if she chose not to, they were content to carry on without her.  And, when Steve was faced with the emotional and physical pain of cancer, it was Jen who he leaned on for help with some of the most difficult things.

In October of 2012, Jen was with Steve and Julene at the Jimmy Buffett concert and pre-concert dinner.  Amidst the fun, Jen sensed that something was wrong, and Julene knew they needed to tell her about the test results as soon as possible. But news like this wasn’t something that they could tell Jen at the concert, nor could Julene do it over the phone. That would be too difficult for both of them.  So the day after the concert, Julene asked Jen to come over, and she told her about the initial diagnosis.

It was tough news to tell, and equally as tough for Jen to hear, but they didn’t spend too much time dwelling in the sadness. Jen’s immediate concern was for Steve and Julene and the family.  Based on her close involvement in Julene’s recent cancer experience, she remembered that the inquiries from friends and acquaintances could be overwhelming.  She knew they were going to need a way to notify and update the many people in their lives.

Jen was familiar with the CaringBridge program, so when Steve arrived home from work, she told Steve and Julene about it.  They got busy that very evening and explored the site, set up an account, and wrote Steve’s first post. Steve talked, Jen typed, and together they made it through the difficult task – the first of many.

Shortly after receiving the confirmed diagnosis of Stage 4 Gastro Esophageal Junction Cancer, Steve again turned to Jen.  This time, with an impossibly heart wrenching project.  He needed help recording video messages to his loved ones – just in case. Steve’s pastor, Doug Peake, had suggested that he consider doing this, and Steve knew that, as hard as it would be, it was important.

Steve wanted to make the videos before the harsh chemo treatments ravaged his body, so he approached his good friend and little-sister-by-marriage with the request. Jen was more than happy to help, and they got started, immediately.  They borrowed a good video camera from their cousin Pam, and found a time to get together to record Steve’s messages.

Initially, the Andrew’s home was the planned recording set.  However, after a few attempts, they decided that the location wasn’t working.  It just didn’t have the right feel.

It had turned into a beautiful fall day in Boise, so Steve and Jen headed outside to try again, this time in Kathryn Albertson Park.  The trees were in full color and the late autumn sun cast a warm light. With its winding streams, meandering paths, and tall grasses waving in the light breeze, the setting was absolutely perfect; maybe too perfect.  Again and again, Steve and Jen were overcome by emotion and both broke down crying.  And since it was such a lovely day, they weren’t alone in the park.  With no place to escape from the people – some who stood and watched them, curious, others who passed through and interrupted their filming – the two eventually abandoned the park in search of a more private location.

Next, they drove to the secluded end of a nearby business complex.  The buildings abutted a tributary of the Boise River, and yet were hidden from the heavily used greenbelt and parks.  Bingo -it was a beautiful area and they had it all to themselves.

As they searched for an ideal spot to serve as the backdrop for Steve’s messages, Jen spied an old wooden bridge that led over the stream and into a little grove of trees and shrubs. Colored in the reds and golds of autumn, it was the perfect location.

Unfortunately, there was one hitch.  A fence blocked their passage, and a large sign read “No Trespassing.”  With a mission as important as theirs, these small things didn’t deter Jen – but Steve saw things differently.  Steve tended to gravitate toward following rules, rather than breaking them; maybe it was the accountant in him, or maybe it was just his nature.  Jen, however, very persuasively coaxed Steve over the fence and past the sign. They both laughed as Steve conscientiously, and repeatedly, sneaked peeks over his shoulder as they made their way into the elusive scenery.

At the end of their outing, they had a collection of beautiful messages for Steve’s family.  Jen was charged with the difficult job of safeguarding the videos and then, someday, sharing them with Steve’s loved ones, if the time should ever come.

After the CaringBridge post and the video project, there was one more major role that Steve entrusted to Jen.   He needed help navigating the world of oncology. He had full confidence in his team of physicians, however…One sees clearly, only with the heart.  Anything essential is invisible to the eyes.  His medical professionals saw him, and the cancer, with their highly trained eyes.  He also needed people who could see this situation with their hearts, as well as their minds.   He needed people with whom he was deeply connected to help him be clear about the essence of his medical situation.

Steve had put together a team of family members: Jen, George, Nikki, and Pam – to help him clearly and fully see the options and recommendations presented by his physicians. Steve also needed a coordinator for this medical support group.  Jen had already stepped-up and provided moral support to Steve and Julene by accompanying them to Steve’s doctors appointments.  Steve asked her to take a more active role by continuing to join he and Julene at the appointments, and managing the flow of information with the medical support group.  Again, Jen was very happy to help.

Steve relied on Jen to, first, act as a scribe and take careful notes at each doctor appointment – to capture the medical jargon.  He wanted a record with the exact names and confusing acronyms of the chemical cocktails, and the blood enzymes, and the counts from the endless tests – and all of the many things that are difficult for a patient to hear and absorb.  After the appointments, Steve needed Jen to write up a report for the rest of the members of their medical support group.

As Steve’s treatment progressed, the team poured over Jen’s reports and then gathered as much information as they could find to help Steve understand his complex medical situation.  They helped formulate questions for Steve’s physicians at MSTI as well as his other medical advisors.  And, when information was scarce, confusing, or conflicting, they made inquiries through their own connections in the medical and research communities.  This little team proved to be an incredibly valuable resource and source of strength for Steve.

There was also a second little wellness support group in which Jen played an important role. Through Julene’s cancer experience, they knew that many people would suggest less conventional alternatives – mushrooms, herb teas, psychics, and many other approaches to healing and wellness of a non-traditional nature.  Jen worked with a team comprised of good friends Maryellen, Susie, and Marianne who explored these unusual treatments as they came along.  Steve wanted to cover all of the bases.

Steve suffered no illusions about the battle he was fighting.  He had felt the physical and emotional pain that this foe could deliver.  And through that pain, he had recognized that he would need lots of help if he hoped to beat his disease.  His gratitude was all that he could offer in return… and in matters of the heart, that is more than enough.

CaringBridge Post

Seattle Bound!
By Steve Andrews — May 21, 2014 1:17am

It’s been awhile since my last update.   We’ve been busy doing lots of things.  And Karlie is now home from college for a few weeks.  It’s been great having her home and catching up with her.

I tell everyone two things about cancer.  #1  You need to respect it, and #2  You can’t get too cocky with it.  I’ve been telling myself this ever since I was originally diagnosed in October 2012.   I’ve been on quite a roll these past 19 months as I continue my fight.  26 chemo treatments later I’m still here and doing better than my doctors thought I would be.   But I’ve never let my guard down and always knew this fight was far from over.  I know this is going to be a long 15 round heavyweight title fight.  And I’m probably only in the 4th or 5th round.  This is no time to get over confident with an opponent like cancer.

The chemo (called FOLFIRI) I’ve been on for the past six months has done extremely well against my tumors.  The tumors have been shrinking over time and I don’t have a lot of cancer remaining in my body.  However my latest scan showed one of my tumors has increased slightly in size.  And this tumor has been causing me back pain as it’s pressing against some nerves near my spine.  The doctors feel that the FOLFIRI has probably run its course and lost its effectiveness.  We knew this day would eventually come.  The bottom line is that I need to make a change in my treatment.

Both my Seattle and Houston doctors recommend that I go with a chemo drug called ado-trastuzumab emtansine, or T-DM1.  This drug has been very successful in treating breast cancer.   Now it’s being used on other cancers, including mine (gastric cancer).  They are seeing some success with it.  What makes T-DM1 so unique is it delivers the chemo directly to the cancer, versus injecting the chemo throughout the entire body.   I’m hoping for fewer side effects than the previous two treatments.

Unfortunately, this drug is not FDA approved for gastric cancer which makes it difficult for me to receive.    I cannot get it in Boise.  However I can get it in Seattle.  Although we are still waiting for insurance approval I have decided to start treatment immediately.  My back pain is increasing in intensity and the tumors are starting to show growth again.  Time is of the essence and I need to start a new treatment plan immediately.  Julene and I are in Seattle tonight and I start my first treatment tomorrow.  The plan is to travel to Seattle every three weeks for treatment, which will last one day.

My X Factor continues to be a big part of my fight against cancer.  Thank you for being there for me.  This includes family, friends, Simplot co-workers, members and Elders of Foothills Christian Church, and others that I’ve met during my journey.  Please believe me when I say I feel your positive thoughts and prayers every day.   I know God has a plan for me.  It’s up to him to decide what the next step is in my journey.  Right now I’m enjoying every single day….there are no bad days!

Let’s keep in touch.  I love you all.  God Bless you.

Steve