StemCell Therapy

It began over dinner on the Fourth of July.

Terri and David Bayne were sitting around a patio table on the deck of their old friends new townhouse.

Terri and David had a deck of their own a small one, hail-damaged and in need of paint at their house in northeast Lincoln.

They had a patio table, too, and a pair of chairs, one of them so rickety they had to turn it just so or it would tip over when you sat down.

Now their friends announced they were selling their old patio set tucked away in their garage and did they know anyone who might want to buy it?

As a matter of fact, Terri and David said, they did.

The friends wouldnt take the Baynes money and insisted on delivering the glass-topped table and six comfy chairs themselves.

But when they put it on the Baynes' deck, it looked like a king-sized bed in a bathroom.

It barely fit, Terri said Tuesday, driving back to work after a lunch date with David, hosted by his former colleagues at Home Real Estate.

David has been an agent for 38 years, the last five at Sellstate Performance Realty. For 34 of those years, he sold houses by day and worked nights at Goodyear.

Thats where he met Terri Murray. David had three kids of his own Mike and Ben and Carney and he and Terri had a son and named him Joe. Now they have five grandchildren.

People call David Big Teddy Bear.

Because hes such a wonderful man, Terri says. And hes an emotional type of guy. Hes not afraid to shed a tear.

Nearly seven years ago, David, 65, was diagnosed with two types of blood cancer. Last month, he updated his condition via Facebook.

The doctors have decided that we are out of options and will no longer be giving me any treatments, he wrote.

I knew that this day was coming but that day is not supposed to be here for many more tomorrows

He thanked everyone for their love and support and prayers.

And everyone started to type: What can we do to help?

The hot workers took a break in the shade Tuesday afternoon David and Terris nephew, a son-in-law born in South Africa, two brothers-in-law and Terris sister from down the street, sitting on those comfy patio chairs in the grass.

The old deck was gone. A pile of broken cement, a stack of splintering wood once painted red.

Ryan Mueller, the nephew, had built a deck at his house this spring, and he had a plan and a building permit.

They hoped to be done by Saturday, he said.

As they rested, the crew talked about David.

Son-in-law Sam Funnah called him Dr. Phil.

Hes just one of those people that you want to help, said Davids brother-in-law Doug Smith. Rarely have I heard him say anything negative about anyone.

By Wednesday, the holes for the footings were dug, 3 feet deep and round as silver dollars. Bags of cement were poured into a mixer, transforming the powder into wet concrete for the footings.

New faces filled the backyard.

And more arrived Thursday nieces and nephews; David and Terris son Joe; another son, Mike, home from Amman, Jordan.

The crew hauled heavy bags and hammered nails. Someone ran to the hardware store. Great-aunts watched a toddler named Henry.

David was inside resting.

Its hard for him to be sitting in the living room while theyre out back working, Terri said.

Hes always been the giver, so its hard for him to be the receiver.

The Murray girls are all married. Terri is the oldest, then Lorri (Warboys), then Lynn (Smith), then Danni (Brennan).

Danni and her husband, Troy, have been living in Dubai for the past six months for his job at Pfizer, but theyre back for three more weeks.

Danni is the brains behind the deck-building project. The idea came to her after Ryan, her son-in-law, posted photos of his own new deck on Facebook and Terri typed a reply: Do you hire out?

As soon as I read that, I said to some of the relatives, lets make this happen as soon as we can, Danni says.

Then she thought back to another post.

After David put out his message on Facebook there were 100 different comments. All these people saying, What can I do?

Its the universal refrain of those who feel helpless when someone is hurting: What can I do to help?

There it was. A need. And an offer.

Those people were willing to bless him, Danni said. And because everyone has their own gifts, I offered three ways to help. Financially, labor, food.

Then she remembers a fourth: Also prayer.

Tuesday night, a cousin brought pizza. We hadnt seen her for years.

Wednesday night, a former coworker from Goodyear fixed sloppy joes.

Thursday, a group of church friends organized a potluck.

The weather had turned cool, and David joined the party and they all sat around the patio table in the grass, admiring the new deck taking shape before their eyes.

David was once 6-foot-2, which is where the big in Big Teddy Bear comes from.

Hes shorter now by 4 inches. Its the cancer, causing his vertebrae to compress.

It basically pokes tiny holes in all my bones, he says.

The fan is blowing cool air in the living room where David rests in an overstuffed recliner, bottled water and a bag of peppermints nearby.

Earlier in the week, he and Terri walked four houses down the block to visit Terris sister Lorri and her husband, Larry, a 30-minute pilgrimage.

David is tired most of the time and always in pain, even though he doesnt complain. A cane rests by the recliner and a walker with wheels is folded nearby.

He just started using it.

Since he was diagnosed with multiple myeloma and amyloidosis, doctors have tried four kinds of chemotherapy and a stem cell transplant. Hes never gone into full remission. And even though he officially entered hospice last week, if a new study opened up or a new drug became available, hed try it, David says.

If it doesnt help him, maybe it will help someone else.

Hes still working. I had two nice closings this week.

He loves selling houses, helping buyers find new homes. And I love seeing new agents as they develop.

He shakes his head thinking about the new deck, that suburban barn-raising, all that work and love in his backyard.

I dont know, he says. Its too much.

Terri is the office manager at Sellstate, the real estate office where David works.

Last week, the owners brought in a personal life coach to help the agents clarify and work on their goals both professional and personal.

David went to listen to her talk, first in a group session and then one-on-one, when she explained the one-year individual program she offered.

He had cancer and was in hospice, David told her, so that probably wouldnt work for him.

Later, Terri asked him why hed gone, and he said that not very many people had signed up and he felt bad, because the company had gone to so much work to bring her in.

He said you can always learn something, so he listened, she said. Thats just David.

By Friday morning, the framing is finished.

By Friday evening, the crew has returned. Its work has been inspected and greenlighted by the city and its time for the decking.

Terri and David picked the color for the sturdy composite boards, an upgrade from their rotting wood with its peeling paint.

From the hardware store, Terri texted her sisters their choice rustic gray and told them she and David had the money to pay for it.

The Murray girls answered.

It will be covered, Lynn texted back. People asked. Also if we let them help it will be a blessing to them. People need to feel needed

So, no, David, you are not going to get money from your account, but nice try.

The checks are still coming. $25. $50. $300.

There is a sense of urgency about this deck, a feeling of summer slipping away, of David becoming too sick to enjoy it.

David likes the outdoor spaces at home. The old metal chairs out front, the deck off the kitchen, where hed slip outside to think and pray in the stillness on nights he couldnt sleep.

Theyll finish by the Saturday deadline, Ryan says, as this nights team of helpers a nephew named Austin; Davids daughter, Carney; Dannis husband, Troy; and a trio of Murray sisters picked up drills and started in.

This deck is bigger than the old one wider by 6 feet and deeper, too, with stairs down the side, so its a straight shot off the kitchen.

David sat in the yard, leaning on his walker, a bottle of peach tea in one hand.

Terri hugged him from behind.

Lorri and Danni grabbed a wheelbarrow and walked down the block, returning with a crock pot and covered dishes for tonights picnic.

David was quiet. A Big Teddy Bear in brown loafers, not afraid to die, but wishing he could be the one to say: What can I do to help?

Read the original here:
Cindy Lange-Kubick: Building a deck for David, the blessings of giving - Lincoln Journal Star

This entry was posted on August 7, 2017 at 12:43 am and is filed under Stem Cell Negative. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed. |