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NORTH KOREA SANCTIONS PASSED

The U.N. Security Councilvoted unanimously yester-day to impose sanctions onNorth Korea, following thecountry’s suspected testingof a nuclear weapon.

North Korea’s ambassadorto the U.N. said “If theUnited States increases

pressure upon (NorthKorea) persistently, (it) willcontinue to take physicalcountermeasures, consid-ering it as a declaration ofwar.”

The sanctions were passedafter China and Russiaraised objections to theoriginal U.S. plan.

Story, A2

OCTOBER 15, 2006 concordmonitor.com CONCORD, NEW HAMPSHIRE $1.75

Catching up withMatt Bonner

Maine caught up in ‘grinding’ debate

LOCAL & STATE, B1 SPORTS, C1HOME & FAMILY, E1

A trip to a �green�Vermont B�B

PRESTON GANNAWAY / Monitor staff

Carolynne St. Pierre explains to her son, Elijah, 4, that she has to be gone for a few days. Her husband, Rich, rushes around the house to get ready. Carolynne musttravel to Brooklyn, N.Y., to receive experimental chemotherapy treatments. Below: Family and friends signed the border of Rich and Carolynne’s wedding photo.

Silver Star awarded to modest guardsman

By JOELLE FARRELLMonitor staff

Soldiers practice for war. But noone knows how he or she will reactwhen the battle is real.

When that moment came forSpc. Richard Ghent in March, he’dbeen blown out of a Humvee and

was lying on the ground in Ramadi.The driver of the Humvee was deadand the staff sergeant in the pas-senger seat was badly injured andunconscious.

Ghent was wounded, but he did-n’t wait for help. He grabbed theonly weapon on him – a 9 mm pistol– and chased after the insurgentswho’d attacked his vehicle.

Yesterday, Ghent, 21, ofRochester, was awarded a SilverStar for bravery. The award is the

third highest given for valor inenemy fire; Ghent is the first NewHampshire National Guardsman toreceive the honor since the war onterror began.

Ghent says he was just doing hisjob. He seemed almost embar-rassed by the attention he receivedat the ceremony, held yesterdayafternoon in the drill shed of theNational Guard Armory in Man-

Ghent went afterinsurgents with pistol Books D4

Business F1Classified G2Editorial D1Home & Family E1Local & State B1Obituaries B2Sports C1Travel D6Tuned In F6

OKAY: Sun,clear tonight.High 58, low26. SamuelMarquis, 9,of GilmantonIronworksdraws theday. B6

For daily delivery,call 224-4287 or800-464-3415.

rememberBy CHELSEA CONABOY

Monitor staff

E ach time 44-year-old Carolynne St. Pierre comeshome from chemotherapy at Brooklyn’s LutheranMedical Center, fatigued and sometimes nauseous,

she talks about putting off the next treatment. The hospital is difficult to get to. Sometimes she takes

a bus from Concord to Boston, then a train to New YorkCity and a subway downtown to her mother’s apartment,so tired by the end that she can barely carry her suitcaseup the stairs to the street. Other times, her husband, Rich,drives her to Connecticut, where one of her sisters picksher up. Then he rushes back to care for their three kids.

The experimental treatments are expensive, about$16,000 a visit, and the St. Pierres aren’t sure yet whatinsurance will cover. They fear it won’t be much. And thenthere’s the fact that the drugs likely won’t save Car-olynne’s life.

What they may give her, and what keeps her goingback, is more time.

Time to spend with 14-year-old Melissa, 12-year-oldBrian and 4-year-old Elijah, making memories that shehopes will last long past the day when chemotherapy nolonger can keep her cancer in check, the day when she

See REMEMBER –– A6

meCarolynne St. Pierre endures exhaustingcancer treatments for one reason: so her kidswill know who she was when she’s gone.

By MEG HECKMANMonitor staff

It’s increasingly difficult forNew Hampshire’s judges to findguardians for seniors who aretoo ill to make decisions abouttheir health care and finances.

As a result, courts are relyingfor the first time on private busi-nesses that profit from supervis-ing frail elders. These guardianscan pay bills, make medical deci-sions and decide where the seniorlives. Sometimes they refereefamily disputes or untangledecades of messy bookkeeping.Often, they serve as guidesthrough the medical, financial andemotional complexities of aging.

“When you have an outsideguardian, you can go about thebusiness of being a family, andlet me take care of all the junk,”said Jeannette Marino, aguardian from Concord. “I’m notthere to tell you what to do. I’myou’re customer representative.What do you want me to do?”

Judges, state health officialsand guardians like Marino sayservices like these are meeting afast-growing need, but fear that,without strict supervision, someguardians-for-hire might exploittheir wards. Courts reviewguardianship cases annually butoften work with limited informa-tion. Mary McGuire, legal coordi-nator for the state’s Bureau ofElderly and Adult Services, saysthis creates the potential forabuse.

“Courts can only make deci-sions based on the informationthey have,” she said. “If it’s theguardian providing the courtwith the information, they’regoing to cover up if they’re doingsomething inappropriate.”

She’s working with the courtsto devise uniform guidelines toprevent problems as demand forguardians’ services increases.

Guardians wantedBetween 2002 and 2005,

guardianship requests at thestate’s 10 probate courts rose 20percent, from 760 to more than900. Usually, a friend or familymember assumed responsibility,but that wasn’t always possible.In several cases, incapacitatedseniors waited for days in thehospital while the courtssearched for someone willing toapprove their transfer to a nurs-ing home.

“We need a guardian, and wedon’t have anyone to serve inthat capacity,” said Judge JohnMaher, administrator of thestate’s probate courts. “I’vebeen a judge now for 23 years,and this is the first time” there’sbeen a shortage.

A little more than a year ago,

As guardians help,exploitation is feared

Who willcare forseniors?

See GUARDIANS –– A12

See MEDAL –– A12

will die. Time for Rich and Car-olynne to find ways for Carolynne’sinfluence – her soft touch andmotherly advice – to remain aftershe’s gone.

For the St. Pierres, there is aconstant balance of preparationand hope. They talk to the childrenabout their mother’s prognosis, dis-cuss what her funeral will be likeand cry together. But Carolynnealso sets goals, always sets bench-marks in her children’s lives, andcelebrates when she reaches them.

First, it was to make it to thefirst day of school. Now, Halloween.Next, Christmas and the new year.Later it will be another summer tosit on the beach while little EJplays in the water.

“A total dream of mine would beseeing Melissa’s 16th birthday,” shesaid.

Without effective treatment, doc-tors have said, Carolynne’s healthwould start to fail quickly in abouttwo to four months. Carolynnesometimes doubts whether shewould be getting the treatment if allshe had to worry about was herown health. She dreads the thoughtof chemotherapy dragging on foryears. But she hopes, with Rich’sencouragement, for as much timeas she can get. Especially for EJ.

Rich’s mother died when he was7. He doesn’t remember her and,because she died suddenly, she leftno notes or remembrances for himto hold onto. While he thinks theirmother’s death will be hard forMelissa and Brian (whose lastname is Thone and who are fromCarolynne’s first marriage), heworries most that EJ St. Pierre, arough-and-tumble boy who clings tohis mother, won’t even have a faintimprint of his mother in his mind ashe grows.

“Without Carolynne, I don’t letmyself go there very often, but it’sgoing to be really hard,” he said. “Iknow that.”

Carolynne shares his fear. “The thought that EJ wouldn’t

remember me – wouldn’t evenremember me – ” she said.

Rich knows all three kids willcrave stories about their motherwhen she is gone. So he and Car-olynne look for ways to preservethem now. Inviting the Monitor tofollow them for the past six monthswas one of them.

Courting CarolynneThere’s a knowing desperation in

the way Rich, who is 44, worksaround Carolynne’s illness, wakingat their Second Street home mostdays before the sun is up, groceryshopping and running errandsbefore the kids are off to school andday care, and often running hisgeo-spatial surveying businessfrom home to be with Carolynneand to make calls to doctors andthe insurance company. Then hepicks up Melissa from gymnastics,Brian from football practice, andworks until the sun goes downagain and the rest of the family isasleep.

Add to that business trips anddoctors’ appointments. During the

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REMEMBER MEA6 OCTOBER 15, 2006 SUNDAY MONITOR

busiest weeks, time to pray andexercise, the things that help himstay grounded, is lost.

Just as Carolynne talks abouther cancer as “a family illness,”Rich seems to absorb it. The daysbefore her diagnosis were dayswhen “we were healthy.” Aftersome difficult treatments, he said,“we’ve lost a lot of weight.”

“Sometimes we get chilly,” hesaid as he handed a blanket to Car-olynne, a petite woman made tolook smaller by layers of clothing,often pink and fleecy.

Their loyalty wouldn’t be sur-prising to find in a couple in theirgolden years. But the St. Pierres’love is relatively young.

They met on a blind date in 2000,set up by a friend of Rich’s whosebaby was being cared for at Con-cord Hospital’s maternity ward,The Family Place, where Carolynne– then Carolynne Seigle – was anurse. She hadn’t dated anyonesince her divorce a few years earli-er, and it wasn’t until after muchhassling from co-workers that sheagreed to the setup.

As a single mother, she juggledthree babysitters to cover her 12-hour shifts. The babies she caredfor were her passion. Her work –where she was known for her boun-cy, blonde ponytail, ever-present witand generosity of time toward newmothers and new nurses – was her

social life.On April 15, Rich, who had never

been married, took her in his newPassat to Portsmouth, to a play, din-ner and a walk on the beach.

“It felt like being a teenager, outgetting away with something,” shesaid.

Their relationship grew quickly.For her, Rich was the opposite of herfirst husband.

“He’s so even keeled,” she said.“He’s spiritual. He’s dependable.”

Rich was drawn to Carolynne’ssoftness and her dedication to nurs-ing. She introduced him to what itwas like to have children. He helpedher reconnect with family membersin New York and New Jersey, partic-ularly her two sisters, from whomshe’d grown apart during her firstmarriage.

Just before Thanksgiving 2001,Rich and Carolynne stood togetherin the bathroom of her Concordhome with a pregnancy test in hand.Outside, a car was packed for a longweekend at her sister’s house, andthe kids were ready to go. The cou-ple had only talked about gettingmarried and hadn’t intended on hav-ing children. The test was positive.

“We were in shock,” Carolynnesaid.

At first, Rich was anxious abouthow a baby would change things.“Finally I was like, you know, this istotally good,” he said.

“Plus, I was in love with you,” hesaid to Carolynne as they recountedthe story. “So, it didn’t matter.”

‘In sickness and in health’In December 2001, Rich pro-

posed and moved in with Car-olynne and the two kids. Elijah wasborn in July.

After not having a mother in hislife, Rich found a lot of joy first fromhearing Carolynne’s stories aboutbabies at work and then watchingher as a mother to EJ. “For me,there was a completeness,” hesaid.

He and Carolynne talked abouta wedding, but everyday life got inthe way.

In the summer of 2003, whenElijah was nearly 1, Carolynnestarted having pain in her chestand right shoulder. Doctors toldher it was likely from the way sheheld her son, and they prescribedphysical therapy and anti-inflam-matory medication. They gave hera chest X-ray and, when the paingot worse, an EKG.

Months passed and the doctorscouldn’t find anything wrong. InNovember, one suggested she tryanxiety medication. She camehome frustrated. She thought thedoctor didn’t believe her.

“You know your own body, andyou know how you feel,” she said.“And I knew something wasn’tright.”

In January 2004, she developeda chronic cough. When a doctorsuggested she try an inhaler, shepushed to see a pulmonologist.

A March CT scan found nothingwrong with her lungs. But, bychance, the pulmonologist spottedsomething on her liver that worried

“It’s okay to go through this together”Four-year-old EJ hugs his mom as he and Rich say goodbye at the bus station in Concord before sending Carolynne for a chemotherapy treatment in New York.

Carolynne waves while watching EJ play at the beach on New Castle Island. Summer family trips inspired Carolynne to continue withher chemotherapy in hopes of being around next year. She sets short-term goals to help her make it through exhausting treatments.

Rich cleans up after EJ had an accident in his pants. Though EJ had been potty trained for months,he regressed when Carolynne had to spend a few days in the hospital this summer.

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REMEMBER ME OCTOBER 15, 2006 A7SUNDAY MONITOR

“In sickness and in health. . . . Itwas so real,” Carolynne said.

Accepting the diagnosisThree days after the wedding,

Carolynne was prepped for surgery.On the drive to the Lahey Clinic,she and Rich made a list of thingsshe wanted for the kids: counseling,to be surrounded by friends, to goto college, to stay involved in sportsand music, to spend summers inNew York with her family.

The surgery lasted 11 hours;Jenkins removed about 35 percentof her liver.

Carolynne spent the next sixmonths in and out of the hospital,and for much of that time was teth-ered to feeding tubes. Because shewas struggling to get stable, shecouldn’t start chemotherapy. Richsold his prized Harley-Davidsonmotorcycle and later his NewHampton home to help cover med-ical costs. Plans to send the kids toprivate school were pushed aside.

In the beginning, Carolynneasked people not to use the word“cancer” around her. When shewas given books about coping withillness, she’d turn the bindings tothe wall.

“If I didn’t really soak it in, if Ididn’t really admit it, it wouldn’t behappening,” she said.

But friends and family knewwhat was happening and knew theSt. Pierres needed help. Theybrought plates of food, so plentifulthat the St. Pierres bought an extrafreezer. Carolynne’s mom, KathrynSeigle, and other family membershelped around the house. Anony-mous checks and cards arrived inthe mail by the dozen, and friendsshuttled the kids to school, day careand extracurricular activities. Nurs-es at The Family Place made Car-olynne a patchwork baby blanket.

Slowly, Carolynne’s pain sub-sided, and she regained strength.The family enjoyed Christmas 2004together. In January, Carolynnehad a CT scan that showed no signsof recurrence. That month was“euphoric,” Rich said.

Three months later there wasanother tumor. It was time forchemotherapy. Carolynne had totell her nursing supervisor that shewould not be coming back to work.

The St. Pierres worked as hardto find an oncologist as they did tofind a surgeon, visiting various hos-pitals and asking the doctors thesame question: Where would theysend their own families?

They settled on Dr. HowardBruckner at Lutheran, the formerhead of the gastrointestinal oncolo-

him. He referred her to a specialistat Massachusetts General Hospi-tal. Carolynne felt relieved: Afternine months of doctors’ appoint-ments, finally she was getting someanswers.

But on April 8, 2004, Rich andCarolynne stood in the hospitalcourtyard crying. The doctor hadjust told them Carolynne hadcholangiocarcinoma, a rare cancerof the bile ducts of the liver. She’dlater learn that a condition that shehad been treated for since 1995called primary sclerosing cholangi-tis, an inflammation of the liver, isthought to be a precursor. Car-olynne doesn’t remember doctorsever telling her to worry about can-cer.

Carolynne would have to havesurgery to remove a large tumorfrom her liver. A surgeon at Massa-chusetts General told her she was“short on time” and advised her notto shop around for doctors, the St.Pierres said. He also said thesurgery was risky, and, if it got toocomplicated, he would close her up.The St. Pierres scheduled the pro-cedure for April 27 and shoppedanyway.

“We weren’t willing to accept ableak outcome,” Rich said.

They flew to New York, whereCarolynne’s aunt, CarolineStoessinger, had connections at thebest hospitals. They saw specialistsat Memorial Sloan-Kettering Can-cer Center and Mount Sinai Hospi-tal. At each visit, Rich collectedbusiness cards and took meticulousnotes.

One doctor said he would oper-ate. Another refused. Stoessingerpressured one, asking whom hewould send his daughter to. He toldthem Roger Jenkins, a liver trans-plant specialist at the Lahey Clinicin Burlington, Mass. They went tosee him right away and found whatthey were looking for.

“He didn’t guarantee us any-thing, but he held Carolynne’shand,” Rich said.

Jenkins would keep the April 27date. Meanwhile, the St. Pierresgot the family’s business in order.They arranged Carolynne’s powerof attorney and her will, whichincluded her wishes for Rich tohave legal guardianship over Melis-sa and Brian.

Friends and family pulledtogether an impromptu wedding.They cooked a wedding feast, com-plete with two cakes. A nursingfriend lent Carolynne her weddingdress. They rented a tent to put upin the backyard, where the Rev.David Jones of St. Paul’s Churchoversaw the ceremony and the cou-ple struggled to say their vows.

Photos by Preston Gannaway Story by Chelsea Conaboy

go to concordmonitor.com for an audiovisual slideshow

Carolynne watches EJ play in the window while Rich is gone on a business trip. Carolynne says she worries about taking EJ outside alone because she no longer has the energy to keep up with him.

Rich comforts Carolynne before a recent CT scan at ConcordHospital. “Carolynne’s been beating the odds,” he said. “Theyall are genuinely surprised that Carolynne’s still alive.”

Brian, 12, hugs his mom and Melissa, 14, tries to block Rich’sview as he takes a picture with his cell phone. Carolynne want-ed to be there for Melissa’s first day at Concord High School.

Rich takes a photo of Carolynne after they both had their heads shaved. Carolynne’s friend, Ellie Duhaime (right), who was there forsupport, checks the makeup she just applied to Carolynne. Barber Lindsay Clukay (back) made a house call for the couple. See REMEMBER –– A8

gy section at Mount Sinai Hospital,where he had worked for 30 years.What they found in him was hope.Where some doctors told Carolynnethat she should enjoy the monthsshe had left with her children,Bruckner said he would try to help.

Bruckner, who sees hundreds ofpatients, bucks the trend in oncolo-gy of using fewer drugs in maxi-mum doses. He believes partneringdrugs in smaller doses can increasetheir effectiveness.

“Occasionally, the results havebeen very, very dramatic,” he said.

Bruckner said many doctorsrightly avoid giving patientschemotherapy that’s unproven bystandard measures because theyworry that the drugs will do moreharm than good. But Carolynne’scancer is an “orphan” disease, withonly about 2,500 people diagnosedin the United States each year. As aresult, there isn’t much govern-ment support for costly trials.

Cholangiocarcinoma is aggres-sive, and Carolynne’s tumor is par-ticularly invasive, he said. “She’s inthat category of someone wherethe evidence-based choices are notthrilling.”

For three months, Carolynnetraveled to Brooklyn every twoweeks. During that time, the St.Pierres received word that Car-olynne’s insurance company, Cigna,wouldn’t pay. The objection was notto the treatment but to the fact thatBrooklyn was out of geographicalcoverage range. The St. Pierresfiled an appeal, and the companysaid it would cover one round ofchemotherapy in Brooklyn, thenCarolynne had to find a doctor inNew England.

Dr. Fred Briccetti at New Hamp-shire Oncology agreed to adminis-ter the blend of drugs in Concord.

Between treatments last fall,Carolynne went to Melissa’s cheer-leading practices and Brian’s foot-ball games.

“I cried every time, because all Icould think about in my head is,‘I’m here this year, but will I behere next year?’ ”

As the months passed, shebecame frustrated at not being ableto do the things she once did. Shespent a lot of time at home, readingand watching television. The changewas difficult for the kids, too.

“Cancer almost sucked most ofthe life out of her,” Melissa said.

Brian said his mom’s healthseemed to ping-pong. One day,she’d be fine. “Then, it’s like Dr.Hyde gives her a potion and she’ssick,” he said. The uncertainty wasunnerving.

Rich and Carolynne startedpreparing for the days when herhealth would worsen still. They setup binders for each of the kids’medical records and added historythat only Carolynne knew. Shepicked a kindergarten teacher forEJ and directed Rich to enroll himin swimming lessons and take himon an annual trip to Story Landuntil he’s outgrown it, as she haddone with the older kids.

Back to BrooklynOne morning last April, Car-

olynne woke up and watched EJsleeping next to her. He opened hiseyes, put his arm around her andsaid, “Don’t go anywhere, Mom.”

Earlier in the month, she hadreceived news that her cancer wasadvancing. Bruckner wanted tointensify Carolynne’s treatment,adding a drug called Avastin, whichhe said can make other drugs moreeffective by making cancer cellsless resistant. While Avastin isapproved for use against colon can-cer, it is not approved for cholangio-carcinoma.

That extrapolation – saying whatworks for one kind of cancer couldwork for another – was somethingBriccetti in Concord was uncom-fortable with.

So the St. Pierres went back toBrooklyn and back to fighting withthe insurance company, which nowrejected the treatment based on itsexperimental status.

The new treatment was harderon Carolynne’s body. She took moretime to recover. She lost herappetite and limited her driving.

It became harder for her to carefor EJ on her own. He’s a sturdyboy who likes running circlesaround the living room, climbing onfurniture and pouncing from couchto couch. Carolynne became afraidto take him outside the house onher own, worried that he’d run offtoward the Merrimack River near-by and she wouldn’t be able tochase him.

She thought about whether tocontinue treatment. But the doc-tors said she was doing better thanexpected. And “the alternativeright now is so scary and so sad,”she said.

Melissa said it wasn’t until thisyear that she realized how seriousher mom’s cancer was.

“You know something’s happen-ing, but you haven’t really thoughtit through all the way,” she said.

The St. Pierres said they’ve beenfrustrated by the lack of group coun-seling services in the Concord areafor children of parents with cancer.They’ve tried to keep the kids intheir normal routines while alsotelling them all that they can aboutthe cancer. They’ve explained Car-olynne’s treatment and that, one day,

it will no longer work. Still, Rich said,he worries that they don’t under-stand that their mother will die.

“You hurt for a long time whenyou lose a parent as a child,” hesaid. “If they know what it is, it’sgoing to make it easier for them.”

Melissa said his constantreminders are frustrating. Morerecently, as she’s had to do morearound the house, giving EJ hisnightly baths and cooking dinner,she said it has started to “click in”that things will be different withouther mom.

But, she said, she thinks of her-self as just another Concord HighSchool freshman, going to class andgymnastics practices, doing herhomework and spending time withher friends.

Brian’s reaction is different. Hegets angry and acts out, sometimesposing a discipline challenge forRich and Carolynne. “Look around,smell the coffee,” he said lastspring. “This isn’t really normal foranyone.”

He said he can’t help but getangry sometimes at not having ahealthy mom to take care of him.

“Our bodies react to the environ-ment of what’s happening,” he said.“When something’s wrong, I canfeel it in my blood.”

It’s hard for the St. Pierres togauge how EJ is coping. Over thesummer, he regressed in potty train-ing. When his mom is not around, helooks for her. And when Carolynneleaves for treatment and explainsthat she’ll be home soon, he tells hershe’s “not coming back.”

Carolynne doesn’t worry aboutRich raising him well. But she wor-ries about EJ not having a mother’sinfluence. That EJ is a boy is help-ful. Rich doesn’t have much experi-ence with girls. Luckily, Melissa islow maintenance, Carolynne said,as she and Melissa sat in the living

room on Mothers Day between din-ner and cake.

Rich poked his head out of thekitchen and smiled at Melissa.

“We’ll manage,” he said. She returned a teenage smirk.

‘Still lots of value’At the end of May, a CT scan

showed no new tumor growth. Thatwas good news, but the St. Pierreshad been questioning how oftenCarolynne should go to treatment,and the results made for difficultdecision making.

“You’re making believers out ofour local oncologists,” Rich toldBruckner during a conference call.“They still won’t do the plan, butthey scratch their heads.”

The St. Pierres scheduledanother treatment for the firstweek in June. Shortly after Car-olynne returned, she ended up inthe hospital with a fever and a lowcount of white blood cells. The hos-pitalization, though just a couple ofdays, made her question whether togo again.

“If it meant that every time Iwent for a treatment and cameback home, it meant that I wouldend up in here for time to recover, itwouldn’t really make sense to keepdoing it,” she said from her hospitalbed.

Ten days later, she prepared foranother trip to Brooklyn. In themorning Rich shaved her head, andthe Rev. Jones stopped by for avisit. Carolynne talked about herfears of dying and of how her deathwould affect her family.

“Rich has been through enoughin his lifetime,” she said. “We don’twant Elijah to lose his mother. Andthen I feel bad for Melissa andBrian that they have to have thiskind of stress in their lives. . . . Ithurts me that it’s something I don’thave control of that potentially

could make my family really sad.”Rich is more forgiving of God

and their situation. “It’s not okay to be sick, but it’s

okay to go through this together,”he said. “I wouldn’t have it anyother way.”

When Carolynne returned fromtreatment, she talked more thanever about postponing the next one.She wanted to feel well for anAdirondack vacation they’d beenplanning for the end of July. Butputting it off would mean going atleast five weeks without treatment.

“It’s a crapshoot,” Rich said.“It’s hard to know what you lose ifyou don’t do a treatment.”

Carolynne’s siblings and motheralways prod her to go. “I want tokeep her,” Kathryn Seigle said.

Carolynne scheduled a treat-ment for mid-July. In the weekleading up to it, she and Rich tookEJ and Melissa to Story Land andtwice brought EJ to the beach. Theday trips boosted Carolynne’sdetermination to get to anothersummer to watch her son play inthe water.

The night before she was sup-posed to leave for treatment, Car-olynne had a 103-degree fever andhad to postpone, movingchemotherapy a few days closer tovacation. By the time she got home,she was nauseous and couldn’t eat.She had sores in her mouth anddown her throat and pain in hershoulder.

The St. Pierres first delayed thevacation, then canceled it. Car-olynne was downtrodden.

August brought Carolynne’s44th birthday, another treatmentand preparation for the first day ofschool, which was filled with nor-mal sibling banter when it came.

“Brian, if you’re not nice, I’m notgiving you rides when I’m a seniorand you’re a freshman,” Melissa

said as the two put their shoes onand collected their bags.

“It’s not like you’re going to getsome Miata,” Brian said. “You’reprobably just going to get someused, old Toyota truck. It’s not like Iwant to ride in your smelly truckanyway. . . . Mom, are you coming?”

“I’m thinking about it,” she saidand rolled her eyes at them.

The night before, the kids gath-ered on their parents’ bed, sittingclose to their mom and chatting.

A couple of days later, Richreminded Carolynne of thatmoment when she began to crylooking at photographs from thestart of their relationship. She talksoften about how she was prettierthen. Sometimes, she said, she’soverwhelmed by not being the wifeand mother that she wants to be.

“I just don’t feel as valuable,”she said.

“There’s still lots of value, Car-olynne,” Rich told her. “Every dayyou’re home, every day you’re withEJ, every night you read to him. . . .There’s still a lot of meaning.”

Rich has been collecting videoand photos on his cell phone. Hewants the kids to have all of thethings he didn’t have. He’s encour-aged Carolynne to write letters tothem, but the idea is daunting.

“I feel like I’m saying goodbye,”she said, “and I feel like I have to bepsychologically ready to do it.”

Rich said Carolynne has thechance to leave them words thatwill last into the future – advice fortheir first day of college or theirwedding days. To her, the messagewill be simpler.

“I want them to know beyond ashadow of a doubt that there’s noquestion that I love you and that Itried – we tried,” she said.

“They’ll see that,” Rich saidsoftly, rubbing her hand in his.“They’ll see that, darlin’.”

Exhaustion . . . and goalsBy mid-September, Rich looked

haggard and Carolynne’s spiritswere low. A CT scan had shown anabscess of fluid in her liver, and Car-olynne had gone to the Lahey Clinicto have a tube installed to drainwhat doctors thought was an infec-tion. She had to leave it in for morethan a week.

At home, EJ climbed the rungsof the kitchen chair she sat in andinto her lap. She pressed her palmagainst his back to keep him fromleaning against the drain.

“I’m constantly having to protectmyself when he’s home,” she said.

The same week, the woman whodrove EJ to and from day care hadto stop. Rich had been doing morerunning around than usual. Bothfelt low on energy.

“It’s bad when we decay at thesame time,” she said.

Rich left for a two-night businesstrip. The next morning, Carolynnewas carrying EJ down the stairs onher back when she fell. He wasokay, but she hit her chest. The falldidn’t damage the drain, but she’dlater learn she had broken her ster-num.

Then Carolynne received newsfrom Jenkins that the abscess waslikely caused by cancer blocking herintestines and she needed a stentput in to open it up. But the radiolo-gist could find no blockage there.That was good news, so long as Car-olynne’s body could heal theabscess on its own.

The next day, Carolynne lookedweaker than usual and was fatigued.She said she was anxious to getback to treatment. She had beenalmost a month and a half without it.

“It’s not fun,” she said. “But, Iwant to get to my goals.”

Rich and she talked about howthey hadn’t found time yet to putvideos together. “The days just dis-appear,” he said.

They talked about collecting sto-ries about Carolynne from familyand friends, too. Maybe peoplewould share them at her funeral if acamera were set up there, he said.

“And you can put a sign by it:‘Messages to the kids,’ ” she said.

Last week, Carolynne’s liverfunction had worsened. Blood workshowed increases in ammonia,which causes disorientation. She’dforget what she had done from dayto day. Pain in her shoulder hadintensified and spread to her lowerback, and she was sleeping morethan usual.

Six months since they returnedto Brooklyn, the St. Pierres stilldon’t know how much of their billsinsurance will cover. In August, Richsold land he had been hoping tobuild on to help pay some costs. Butif insurance doesn’t help with alarge percentage of the bills, thefamily will have thousands of dollarsof debt.

Yet, always, between the worriedlooks Rich gives his wife each morn-ing, watching for further yellowingaround her eyes, there are goodmoments. Last Saturday, Carolynnesat outside in the sun while EJ ranaround the yard and Melissa andBrian raked the leaves.

“We’re still living,” Rich said.On Wednesday, about seven

weeks since Carolynne’s last treat-ment, he woke up early and workedon the computer. Then he and Car-olynne got in the car, dropped EJ atday care and got on the road, boundfor Connecticut and another dose ofchemotherapy.

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Carolynne’s mother, Kathryn Seigle, kisses her as the family gathers around for Carolynne’s 44th birthday in August.

Carolynne sits in bed with EJ before reading him to sleep. Every night that Carolynne is around to read to EJ “counts for everything,” Rich said.

REMEMBER MEA8 OCTOBER 15, 2006 SUNDAY MONITOR

REMEMBER Continued from A7