About Cancer, Hope, and Love

Hello, dear friends and supporters of our family and DriverWorks Ink publishing.

I am sorry to say I have some sad news to share with you.

My beloved husband and publishing partner, Al Driver, went into surgery around 9 p.m. on Thursday, December 17th. The purpose of the surgery was to get rid of the blockage in his bowel that has been causing him pain and preventing him from eating since he went to the hospital on Monday, December 7th. Around midnight on Thursday, he went into the recovery room after the surgery.

On Friday, December 18th, the surgeon (who also did Al's first surgery on August 20th and found the Stage IV colon cancer with a spot on his liver) told us that this bowel blockage was caused by multiple tiny tumours that have adhered to Al's bowel and are too small to show up on a CT scan. She could not remove the tumours because they are too attached to Al's bowel and she would have to cut the tumour or his bowel, which are not good options.

The tumours are on the site where the cancer was removed in August. There are also tumours on the lining of his abdomen. There was nothing the surgeon could do from a surgical perspective so, after three hours of exploring and trying to come up with a way to solve the problem, she closed Al up again because nothing more could be done.

The surgeon then spoke to Al's oncologist, and the oncologist said that neither chemotherapy nor radiation therapy are options. So there is nothing more that can be done. Al described it as “our last hope was severed.” Blunt but true.

Since Friday afternoon, our family has been reeling from this news but we are quickly gathering our strength (remembering Dionne Warner's 24-hour rule) to make Al’s last days on this earth as comfortable as possible. He has moved from surgery and oncology into palliative care, which focuses more on the comfort of the patient and quality of life rather than healing and curing.

He is in discomfort physically at times and last night, we were told he only has days left on this earth. 

Our hearts are breaking, but we know he will always be with us. God just needs another angel to spread love and hope in the world. Our Al will do that in his fine, deeply compassionate, humour-filled fashion.

Mentally, he is at peace with the situation. Unfortunately, he has had a lot of time to think about this possibility during these past four months of illness. He is hoping to be strong enough to be released from the hospital in the next few days so he is able to spend Christmas at home with our family. We will do everything we can to help him fulfill that goal and any others he has set. He is a strong, brave, wonderful man. We will cherish the moments we have left with him.

It occurred to me this past weekend that Al and I are "story people" so, without Al's knowledge but with the blessing of our children, I invited people to share a favourite story or memory they have of Al and/or what he has meant to them ... so that Al can enjoy these special memories and sentiments while he is alive. 

I called this a “submission request,” just as we have done with some of our anthologies. Ha ha! We plan to later compile these memories for our children, grandchildren, and family members yet to come. Everyone is welcome to share a story about Al. You can send your "Submission About Al" to me via the email address on our web page. Thank you in advance. 

As has been our desire all along, you are welcome to share this information about Al's health with others so they too can keep Al and our family and friends in their prayers.

We cherish all of you who have supported us, our family, and our publishing business. Thank you.

At the hospital with our son Dave and
our daughters Dani (left) and Lisa. 

My Al is a flawed human being, just like the rest of us, but his human frailties are far outweighed by the good he has done and the wisdom, love, caring, and compassion he has extended to others - especially me. That's what has come across loud and clear by all who have responded with a submission so far. It has been very special to read these stories and tributes to Al, enabling him to once more inject his quick wit and to verbally edit the remarks to make the facts fit the situation - as he remembers it! These memories have brought many smiles to him and us, and we have laughed and laughed and laughed these past two days!

Despite these being among the darkest days of our lives, we wish you and your family a happy holiday season. 

We plan to enjoy these next few hours, days or whatever time we have with Al. Cancer may take his life,  but there is so much that it cannot do.

What Cancer Cannot Do
Author: Unknown
Cancer is so limited...
It cannot cripple love.
It cannot shatter hope.
It cannot corrode faith.
It cannot eat away peace.
It cannot destroy confidence.
It cannot kill friendship.
It cannot shut out memories.
It cannot silence courage.
It cannot reduce eternal life.
It cannot quench the Spirit.

Take care.


In love and peace,
Deana and family

A Conversation With My Mother – For World Cancer Day

Yesterday afternoon, I had the urge to phone my mother and talk to her.

Unfortunately, that couldn’t happen physically because my mom died on July 9, 2011, three months after being diagnosed with inoperable pancreatic and liver cancer.

Her death cut me to the core. I thought she’d live for another 10 years, like her mom, who died at age 94.

I didn’t realize how much I would miss my mom until after she died. I suppose that’s normal, but I don't like it. Her death has not stopped me from talking to her, however. I have conversations with her all the time – in my mind, on some higher level than I ever experienced prior to her death. She is a deep part of who I am, so it makes sense that she will always be with me in one way or another.

Today is World Cancer Day.

In honour of all those who are fighting this terrible disease, and those who have lost their fight or lost others to cancer, I am taking a giant step outside my comfort zone and sharing with you my most recent conversation with my mom.

This is what we talked about yesterday:

Hi, Mom. How are you doing?

Great. Really great.

I miss you.

I know you do, but it’s okay. Things are beautiful here and you are doing fine. You’re a good writer and a good person. Live your life and help others. That’s what it’s all about.

Thanks, Mom. What do you want me to do?

Tell them there is life after death. Tell them there is hope. Tell them Dionne’s story – over and over again. She helped me. She helped you cope with my death. Tell them all. Hope is important.

I’m trying, Mom. The journalist in me doesn’t often let the marketing/public relations person take over.

That’s okay. Be you. You are perfect.

Thanks, Mom. You always did know how to keep me grounded. Hey, wait a minute. That ‘you are perfect’ part doesn’t sound like the real you. You’re the one who told Auntie Janet not to read one of the books I published because she wouldn’t like it. While I was standing right there!

(A smile.) Well, it’s true. She wouldn’t have liked it. So there.

Ah, I can see your one eyebrow lifting right now. And your smile. I love that smile. More of a smirk, I guess. Thanks for that, by the way. It keeps people around me smiling a lot. Okay, Mom, I’ve cried enough tears for now. I’ll talk to you later. Have a good day.

I will. I always do.

I love you.

I love you, too. Be strong.

            So now I guess I have to follow my mom’s advice and tell you about Dionne Warner. She’s amazing. She’s battling her eighth cancer diagnosis right now, with grace and courage and tons of humour. She was fighting her fifth, sixth, and seventh cancer diagnoses when I met her in 2010 and began writing a book about her and her husband Graham.

The book’s called Never Leave Your Wingman: Dionne and Graham Warner’s Story of Hope, and it’s as much a love story as anything. It’s helped a lot of people, including me (we’ve sold more than 6,000 copies so far). It’s about living life to the fullest, every day, whether you’re sick or not.

 In April 2011, I had two chapters left to write of the book when we got the phone call that Mom had inoperable cancer. I worked on my laptop as we drove to Edmonton, Alberta to visit Mom that Easter weekend, and I looked at photos of Dionne and Graham Warner, dressed in costume and dancing into her chemo treatments in Regina, Saskatchewan. I shared those photos with my mom and my siblings and other family members in that hospital room. The photos made us laugh, gave us some information about cancer treatments, and took a lot of the fear out of cancer for us. We had never faced the disease that up-close-and-personal before.

A few weeks later, Mom phoned me from her home and asked, “Did that Dionne girl ever try

anything green?”

It took me a few minutes to figure out what Mom was asking, but I realized she meant alternative, complementary therapies aside from chemotherapy or radiation. “Yes, Mom. Dionne sees a doctor of natural medicine, which is different from a naturopath or a homeopath, and she takes supplements to help her fight the toxicity of her cancer treatments. She’s also been to Mexico twice for complementary therapies.”

A few weeks later, I found out that Mom was trying some homeopathic therapies. One of my aunts said the possibility of alternative treatments gave my mom some hope and put a smile back on her face and a new spring in her step. Mom started to bounce back mentally and be the same strong woman I’d grown up with.

Mom took that therapy until the day before she died. My youngest sister cared for her in that final week and when we arrived for our final visit with Mom, my tired, frail mom insisted on pulling herself out of bed and walking out to the living room to sit in her recliner. We knew it was draining every ounce of strength she had, but she was determined to make this final visit seem as normal as possible. It was heartbreaking and beautifully strong.

That’s my mom ... tough to the end. And that’s the spirit she wants all of us to live with.

Be strong. Fight to the end. Be good to each other. Help others. It’s what my mom did for all of her 84 years. It’s what Dionne Warner does in her ongoing cancer battles.

Cancer Sucks. But we don’t have to take it lying down.

Let’s Fight!

P.S.  You will be seeing a lot more about the inspiring Dionne Warner in the coming weeks. She is the face of the new national Beauty Gives Back campaign of the Look Good ... Feel Better program to help patients cope with cancer. She has been interviewed extensively by media across Canada and more is yet to come. You can read Dionne and Graham’s love story in our Never Leave Your Wingman book. (We’re selling signed copies on our website for $19.95 CAD, plus shipping, within Canada). $1 from every book sold is donated to the Cancer Research Unit at the University of Saskatchewan via the Saskatchewan Cancer Agency.

Here are some links that will tell you more about Dionne and Graham Warner and the Never Leave Your Wingman book:

Never Leave Your Wingman book webpage

CityTV Toronto interview – Beauty Gives Back launch at  Mirror Ball fundraiser

CBC National News - tow truck 'best gift ever'
Global National The Morning Show interview with Dionne Warner on World Cancer Day
CTV Regina Morning Live interview with Dionne Warner about Beauty Gives Back

CTV Edmonton News interview with author Deana Driver talking about the book

Never Leave Your Wingman book Facebook page

Keep Hope Alive!