Hello sisters,

I'm a day late with this, but I thought this solstice celebrating song was just beautiful:?

From the comments:

This song is praising oak trees - one of the symbols of masculinity in Latvian folklore. During the summer solstice (Jā?i) men (especially those named Jānis) will wear crowns made from oak leaves. The lyrics are about how mighty, powerful and old the oak tree is.

You'll hear the same word (sounds like "lee-gwa") as a chorus at the end of every line...two comments:

1.?"līgo" is basically a connective. Most summer solstice songs have "līgo" in the end of every line of the lyrics. The meaning of the word is a bit blurry - some say it means "to sway", but not really and it's almost impossible to explain.

2.?Līgo means to sway in harmony, where everyone is on the same wave, just like when the wind is swaying trees, they all sway in unison, not chaotically.

Beautifully filmed also, setting, traditional dress, flower and oak leaf crowns, instruments. If you know Karin Green, look for her doppelganger!

Sent with secure email.

Wow! Really lovely. Thank you Jill!

On Wed, Jun 22, 2022, 5:49 PM Jill via <jnienhiser=[email protected]> wrote:

Hello sisters,

I'm a day late with this, but I thought this solstice celebrating song was just beautiful:?

From the comments:

This song is praising oak trees - one of the symbols of masculinity in Latvian folklore. During the summer solstice (Jā?i) men (especially those named Jānis) will wear crowns made from oak leaves. The lyrics are about how mighty, powerful and old the oak tree is.

You'll hear the same word (sounds like "lee-gwa") as a chorus at the end of every line...two comments:

1.?"līgo" is basically a connective. Most summer solstice songs have "līgo" in the end of every line of the lyrics. The meaning of the word is a bit blurry - some say it means "to sway", but not really and it's almost impossible to explain.

2.?Līgo means to sway in harmony, where everyone is on the same wave, just like when the wind is swaying trees, they all sway in unison, not chaotically.

Beautifully filmed also, setting, traditional dress, flower and oak leaf crowns, instruments. If you know Karin Green, look for her doppelganger!

Sent with secure email.

Hello sisters,

I'm a day late with this, but I thought this solstice celebrating song was just beautiful:?

From the comments:

This song is praising oak trees - one of the symbols of masculinity in Latvian folklore. During the summer solstice (Jā?i) men (especially those named Jānis) will wear crowns made from oak leaves. The lyrics are about how mighty, powerful and old the oak tree is.

You'll hear the same word (sounds like "lee-gwa") as a chorus at the end of every line...two comments:

1.?"līgo" is basically a connective. Most summer solstice songs have "līgo" in the end of every line of the lyrics. The meaning of the word is a bit blurry - some say it means "to sway", but not really and it's almost impossible to explain.

2.?Līgo means to sway in harmony, where everyone is on the same wave, just like when the wind is swaying trees, they all sway in unison, not chaotically.

Beautifully filmed also, setting, traditional dress, flower and oak leaf crowns, instruments. If you know Karin Green, look for her doppelganger!

Sent with secure email.

Hi everyone,

Yesterday was a crummy day for the Nienhiser family. My sister and I drove to Lexington (hometown, where my parents live, about an hour from our homes in Kansas City) to go with my parents to hear the results of the biopsy my dad had last week.

It was positive for pancreatic cancer. They said stage three, advanced, but not spread beyond the pancreas. However, the mass is wrapped around the portal vein, making surgery not viable if he could even survive major surgery. And they don't think he's strong enough to tolerate chemo and radiation.?

Options were palliative radiation (fewer doses) in hopes of pain relief (I guess it could shrink it a little?) or hospice care. The doctor gave him a prescription for morphine.

Three weeks ago when they told him the pet scan results were indicative of pancreatic cancer, they said they would recommend chemo and radiation; now they don't think he'd survive it. Pancreatic cancer is never a good diagnosis. However, I've been frustrated at the very slow pace of getting him seen, tested, results, seen, tested, results over several months now--long gaps between appointments, losing precious time.

I would have liked him to try the cancer therapy of Dr. Nicholas Gonzalez, who had very good results with even pancreatic cancer. Wouldn't hurt, might buy him some time. However, my dad isn't open to it.

We got home from the hospital and Susan and I stayed with my parents for the rest of the afternoon.?

My dad heard a death sentence (and I'm not saying he was wrong), and immediately was in "I'm dying" mode; "I'll be dead before the end of the year." I'm concerned he's going to talk himself into dying sooner than that. While I don't want him to suffer, I would wish for him to try for presence in the moments he has left. He believes that as soon as he starts the morphine, he will not be able to function mentally anymore. And maybe he is right (although my aunt, a retired nurse, said to me privately that we might be surprised...at first and at least for a while, it might relieve the pain and improve his mood and give him some good time, until we have to start increasing the dose past the point he can function).

He got fixated on calling people to tell them he was dying, immediately. Leaving messages on answering machines if people didn't answer. He and my mom were worked up and my sister and I were struggling to establish a little calmness and talk him down from the ledge. He thinks if people want to talk to him they need to do it right away, before he starts the morphine. He could be right, but the rest of us were thinking, you don't have to call everyone TODAY, an hour after you heard this news.

I finally talked him out of more calls when I pointed out that he'd just told someone he had COVID instead of pancreatic cancer. He agreed to get some sleep.?

My sister and I were talking in the car on the way home realizing we are wondering what it is that will kill him. If the pancreatic cancer keeps growing, will the pancreas stop functioning? Will pressure on other organs impair their function fatally? Or will the tumor just keep causing more pain from the pressure inside, and we'll have to keep upping the morphine until he overdoses??

I hate seeing him in physical pain but also just seeing him debilitated physically and mentally. He has always been so capable, and so reliable. A constant, stable presence in my life. I knew that we were likely going to hear that he definitely had cancer yesterday. However, I thought he might be getting treatment, which will unlikely to cure him, might have bought him some time--hopefully good time. Of course there still might be some good days ahead. Seeing him yesterday, though, and how much worse he was just since I was last there, I worry that the dad I knew is already gone and I won't see him again. That he will be weak and afraid and in pain and angry and demanding for the remaining time we have and all we can do is try to ease him along to the end.?

He is frustrated and ordering us about as we get him dressed, in the car, into bed, getting him fed, etc. I am hoping I can find a lucid moment to tell him he needs to speak to us with a bit more patience and gratitude, especially my mom. There is more to say there about what Susan and I have seen about their relationship these past months, but I'll save it for another time. I know he's afraid and grasping for control so he's trying to control us, but it's pretty trying.

When I got home, Dane was great. This morning he went out to get me a bagel and coffee before he left for work. Susan just texted me that she and Scott and Zachary are going there Sunday (father's day) so we will probably join them.

I welcome your best wishes for all of us as we navigate this.

Sent with secure email.

Oh Jill, that sounds incredibly painful. I am so sorry to hear this. Sending so much love to you and your family.?

-------

Blessings,
Chaya Leia Aronson, RN, BSN

chaya@...
508-243-5383
, 3H
Haydenville, MA 01039

“The female pelvis is a powerhouse of energy transformation; the very?
throne of creation through which universal creative energy patterns course?
and flow. This depends on balance within the system.”
Dr. Rosita Arvigo, DN

Cancellations --?If you need to cancel or reschedule, please do so at least 48 hours in advance. We charge for the full session for cancellations made with less than 48 hours notice. In the event of inclement weather, Chaya will contact you that day. Chaya is quite forgiving when a woman needs reschedule due to menstruation, but requires that you reschedule, or you will be charged for the full session. Thank you for understanding.?

On Thu, Jun 16, 2022 at 2:35 PM Matooka <matooka1957@...> wrote:

Oh Jill, my heart goes out to you and your family. Is there a particular way you/ your family would like to be held during this time??

Love and prayers,?

Matooka?

On Jun 16, 2022, at 11:24 AM, Paige <pgly.gardner@...> wrote:

?

Jill-

I am so so sorry this was such a hard place in this part of your dad's and family's journey with this illness.? Many layers there for you all to navigate. Sending love and energy for patience, compassion, grace, strength and connection for you all.? And if you'd like to talk at any point I'm around in the evenings and some this weekend too.

I love you,

Paige

On Thu, Jun 16, 2022, 10:56 AM Meggie via <meggiewinchell=[email protected]> wrote:

Jill, this is so much... reading, witnessing, and sending love to you and your family.

Love,

Meggie

On Thursday, June 16, 2022 at 10:40:43 AM EDT, Jill via <jnienhiser=[email protected]> wrote:

Hi everyone,

Yesterday was a crummy day for the Nienhiser family. My sister and I drove to Lexington (hometown, where my parents live, about an hour from our homes in Kansas City) to go with my parents to hear the results of the biopsy my dad had last week.

It was positive for pancreatic cancer. They said stage three, advanced, but not spread beyond the pancreas. However, the mass is wrapped around the portal vein, making surgery not viable if he could even survive major surgery. And they don't think he's strong enough to tolerate chemo and radiation.?

Options were palliative radiation (fewer doses) in hopes of pain relief (I guess it could shrink it a little?) or hospice care. The doctor gave him a prescription for morphine.

Three weeks ago when they told him the pet scan results were indicative of pancreatic cancer, they said they would recommend chemo and radiation; now they don't think he'd survive it. Pancreatic cancer is never a good diagnosis. However, I've been frustrated at the very slow pace of getting him seen, tested, results, seen, tested, results over several months now--long gaps between appointments, losing precious time.

I would have liked him to try the cancer therapy of Dr. Nicholas Gonzalez, who had very good results with even pancreatic cancer. Wouldn't hurt, might buy him some time. However, my dad isn't open to it.

We got home from the hospital and Susan and I stayed with my parents for the rest of the afternoon.?

My dad heard a death sentence (and I'm not saying he was wrong), and immediately was in "I'm dying" mode; "I'll be dead before the end of the year." I'm concerned he's going to talk himself into dying sooner than that. While I don't want him to suffer, I would wish for him to try for presence in the moments he has left. He believes that as soon as he starts the morphine, he will not be able to function mentally anymore. And maybe he is right (although my aunt, a retired nurse, said to me privately that we might be surprised...at first and at least for a while, it might relieve the pain and improve his mood and give him some good time, until we have to start increasing the dose past the point he can function).

He got fixated on calling people to tell them he was dying, immediately. Leaving messages on answering machines if people didn't answer. He and my mom were worked up and my sister and I were struggling to establish a little calmness and talk him down from the ledge. He thinks if people want to talk to him they need to do it right away, before he starts the morphine. He could be right, but the rest of us were thinking, you don't have to call everyone TODAY, an hour after you heard this news.

I finally talked him out of more calls when I pointed out that he'd just told someone he had COVID instead of pancreatic cancer. He agreed to get some sleep.?

My sister and I were talking in the car on the way home realizing we are wondering what it is that will kill him. If the pancreatic cancer keeps growing, will the pancreas stop functioning? Will pressure on other organs impair their function fatally? Or will the tumor just keep causing more pain from the pressure inside, and we'll have to keep upping the morphine until he overdoses??

I hate seeing him in physical pain but also just seeing him debilitated physically and mentally. He has always been so capable, and so reliable. A constant, stable presence in my life. I knew that we were likely going to hear that he definitely had cancer yesterday. However, I thought he might be getting treatment, which will unlikely to cure him, might have bought him some time--hopefully good time. Of course there still might be some good days ahead. Seeing him yesterday, though, and how much worse he was just since I was last there, I worry that the dad I knew is already gone and I won't see him again. That he will be weak and afraid and in pain and angry and demanding for the remaining time we have and all we can do is try to ease him along to the end.?

He is frustrated and ordering us about as we get him dressed, in the car, into bed, getting him fed, etc. I am hoping I can find a lucid moment to tell him he needs to speak to us with a bit more patience and gratitude, especially my mom. There is more to say there about what Susan and I have seen about their relationship these past months, but I'll save it for another time. I know he's afraid and grasping for control so he's trying to control us, but it's pretty trying.

When I got home, Dane was great. This morning he went out to get me a bagel and coffee before he left for work. Susan just texted me that she and Scott and Zachary are going there Sunday (father's day) so we will probably join them.

I welcome your best wishes for all of us as we navigate this.

Sent with secure email.

Oh Jill, my heart goes out to you and your family. Is there a particular way you/ your family would like to be held during this time??

Love and prayers,?

Matooka?

On Jun 16, 2022, at 11:24 AM, Paige <pgly.gardner@...> wrote:

?

Jill-

I am so so sorry this was such a hard place in this part of your dad's and family's journey with this illness.? Many layers there for you all to navigate. Sending love and energy for patience, compassion, grace, strength and connection for you all.? And if you'd like to talk at any point I'm around in the evenings and some this weekend too.

I love you,

Paige

On Thu, Jun 16, 2022, 10:56 AM Meggie via <meggiewinchell=[email protected]> wrote:

Jill, this is so much... reading, witnessing, and sending love to you and your family.

Love,

Meggie

On Thursday, June 16, 2022 at 10:40:43 AM EDT, Jill via <jnienhiser=[email protected]> wrote:

Hi everyone,

Yesterday was a crummy day for the Nienhiser family. My sister and I drove to Lexington (hometown, where my parents live, about an hour from our homes in Kansas City) to go with my parents to hear the results of the biopsy my dad had last week.

It was positive for pancreatic cancer. They said stage three, advanced, but not spread beyond the pancreas. However, the mass is wrapped around the portal vein, making surgery not viable if he could even survive major surgery. And they don't think he's strong enough to tolerate chemo and radiation.?

Options were palliative radiation (fewer doses) in hopes of pain relief (I guess it could shrink it a little?) or hospice care. The doctor gave him a prescription for morphine.

Three weeks ago when they told him the pet scan results were indicative of pancreatic cancer, they said they would recommend chemo and radiation; now they don't think he'd survive it. Pancreatic cancer is never a good diagnosis. However, I've been frustrated at the very slow pace of getting him seen, tested, results, seen, tested, results over several months now--long gaps between appointments, losing precious time.

I would have liked him to try the cancer therapy of Dr. Nicholas Gonzalez, who had very good results with even pancreatic cancer. Wouldn't hurt, might buy him some time. However, my dad isn't open to it.

We got home from the hospital and Susan and I stayed with my parents for the rest of the afternoon.?

My dad heard a death sentence (and I'm not saying he was wrong), and immediately was in "I'm dying" mode; "I'll be dead before the end of the year." I'm concerned he's going to talk himself into dying sooner than that. While I don't want him to suffer, I would wish for him to try for presence in the moments he has left. He believes that as soon as he starts the morphine, he will not be able to function mentally anymore. And maybe he is right (although my aunt, a retired nurse, said to me privately that we might be surprised...at first and at least for a while, it might relieve the pain and improve his mood and give him some good time, until we have to start increasing the dose past the point he can function).

He got fixated on calling people to tell them he was dying, immediately. Leaving messages on answering machines if people didn't answer. He and my mom were worked up and my sister and I were struggling to establish a little calmness and talk him down from the ledge. He thinks if people want to talk to him they need to do it right away, before he starts the morphine. He could be right, but the rest of us were thinking, you don't have to call everyone TODAY, an hour after you heard this news.

I finally talked him out of more calls when I pointed out that he'd just told someone he had COVID instead of pancreatic cancer. He agreed to get some sleep.?

My sister and I were talking in the car on the way home realizing we are wondering what it is that will kill him. If the pancreatic cancer keeps growing, will the pancreas stop functioning? Will pressure on other organs impair their function fatally? Or will the tumor just keep causing more pain from the pressure inside, and we'll have to keep upping the morphine until he overdoses??

I hate seeing him in physical pain but also just seeing him debilitated physically and mentally. He has always been so capable, and so reliable. A constant, stable presence in my life. I knew that we were likely going to hear that he definitely had cancer yesterday. However, I thought he might be getting treatment, which will unlikely to cure him, might have bought him some time--hopefully good time. Of course there still might be some good days ahead. Seeing him yesterday, though, and how much worse he was just since I was last there, I worry that the dad I knew is already gone and I won't see him again. That he will be weak and afraid and in pain and angry and demanding for the remaining time we have and all we can do is try to ease him along to the end.?

He is frustrated and ordering us about as we get him dressed, in the car, into bed, getting him fed, etc. I am hoping I can find a lucid moment to tell him he needs to speak to us with a bit more patience and gratitude, especially my mom. There is more to say there about what Susan and I have seen about their relationship these past months, but I'll save it for another time. I know he's afraid and grasping for control so he's trying to control us, but it's pretty trying.

When I got home, Dane was great. This morning he went out to get me a bagel and coffee before he left for work. Susan just texted me that she and Scott and Zachary are going there Sunday (father's day) so we will probably join them.

I welcome your best wishes for all of us as we navigate this.

Sent with secure email.

Jill, this is so much... reading, witnessing, and sending love to you and your family.

Love,

Meggie

On Thursday, June 16, 2022 at 10:40:43 AM EDT, Jill via <jnienhiser=[email protected]> wrote:

Hi everyone,

Yesterday was a crummy day for the Nienhiser family. My sister and I drove to Lexington (hometown, where my parents live, about an hour from our homes in Kansas City) to go with my parents to hear the results of the biopsy my dad had last week.

It was positive for pancreatic cancer. They said stage three, advanced, but not spread beyond the pancreas. However, the mass is wrapped around the portal vein, making surgery not viable if he could even survive major surgery. And they don't think he's strong enough to tolerate chemo and radiation.?

Options were palliative radiation (fewer doses) in hopes of pain relief (I guess it could shrink it a little?) or hospice care. The doctor gave him a prescription for morphine.

Three weeks ago when they told him the pet scan results were indicative of pancreatic cancer, they said they would recommend chemo and radiation; now they don't think he'd survive it. Pancreatic cancer is never a good diagnosis. However, I've been frustrated at the very slow pace of getting him seen, tested, results, seen, tested, results over several months now--long gaps between appointments, losing precious time.

I would have liked him to try the cancer therapy of Dr. Nicholas Gonzalez, who had very good results with even pancreatic cancer. Wouldn't hurt, might buy him some time. However, my dad isn't open to it.

We got home from the hospital and Susan and I stayed with my parents for the rest of the afternoon.?

My dad heard a death sentence (and I'm not saying he was wrong), and immediately was in "I'm dying" mode; "I'll be dead before the end of the year." I'm concerned he's going to talk himself into dying sooner than that. While I don't want him to suffer, I would wish for him to try for presence in the moments he has left. He believes that as soon as he starts the morphine, he will not be able to function mentally anymore. And maybe he is right (although my aunt, a retired nurse, said to me privately that we might be surprised...at first and at least for a while, it might relieve the pain and improve his mood and give him some good time, until we have to start increasing the dose past the point he can function).

He got fixated on calling people to tell them he was dying, immediately. Leaving messages on answering machines if people didn't answer. He and my mom were worked up and my sister and I were struggling to establish a little calmness and talk him down from the ledge. He thinks if people want to talk to him they need to do it right away, before he starts the morphine. He could be right, but the rest of us were thinking, you don't have to call everyone TODAY, an hour after you heard this news.

I finally talked him out of more calls when I pointed out that he'd just told someone he had COVID instead of pancreatic cancer. He agreed to get some sleep.?

My sister and I were talking in the car on the way home realizing we are wondering what it is that will kill him. If the pancreatic cancer keeps growing, will the pancreas stop functioning? Will pressure on other organs impair their function fatally? Or will the tumor just keep causing more pain from the pressure inside, and we'll have to keep upping the morphine until he overdoses??

I hate seeing him in physical pain but also just seeing him debilitated physically and mentally. He has always been so capable, and so reliable. A constant, stable presence in my life. I knew that we were likely going to hear that he definitely had cancer yesterday. However, I thought he might be getting treatment, which will unlikely to cure him, might have bought him some time--hopefully good time. Of course there still might be some good days ahead. Seeing him yesterday, though, and how much worse he was just since I was last there, I worry that the dad I knew is already gone and I won't see him again. That he will be weak and afraid and in pain and angry and demanding for the remaining time we have and all we can do is try to ease him along to the end.?

He is frustrated and ordering us about as we get him dressed, in the car, into bed, getting him fed, etc. I am hoping I can find a lucid moment to tell him he needs to speak to us with a bit more patience and gratitude, especially my mom. There is more to say there about what Susan and I have seen about their relationship these past months, but I'll save it for another time. I know he's afraid and grasping for control so he's trying to control us, but it's pretty trying.

When I got home, Dane was great. This morning he went out to get me a bagel and coffee before he left for work. Susan just texted me that she and Scott and Zachary are going there Sunday (father's day) so we will probably join them.

I welcome your best wishes for all of us as we navigate this.

Sent with secure email.