Remembering Donna E.
The day I bought my computer in January 2002, as soon as I got it hooked up, I logged onto Fibrohugs. I went to the Introductory board for the first time, and the post at the top said “Believing in Ourselves” by someone named Donna E. I read the quote there and felt welcome.
Over the next few months, I found out that Donna E. was the wife of Ken Euteneier, the webmaster of Fibrohugs. I also came to find out that despite Ken having fibromyalgia himself, he and his wife Donna (pictured above) worked tirelessly to provide the services of Fibrohugs without charging a membership fee to cover their costs. They believed in it enough to want everyone to have access.
So when a conference for Fibrohugs members was scheduled for fall 2002 in Colorado Springs, I signed up. I was anxious to meet the people who made Fibrohugs tick. The night I arrived, most of the attendees were having dinner at one of the restaurants owned by the conference hostess. It was there I first saw Donna on the restaurant patio laughing with one of the members. Made me think, “Yep, these are my kind of people.”
The next day was the conference breakfast and presentations. It was there that I got a full sense of the scope of Fibrohugs and how deeply the support provided had touched the members' lives. Seeing the love and admiration on that stage at the Navajo Hogan was incredible. It was impossible to not be moved by it.
The next day, the group travelled to an historic mountain gambling town called Cripple Creek. When I tired of the slot machines, I went into one of the shops and ran into Donna looking at the very same jewelry that had intrigued me. I joked with her about her good taste. She settled upon a ring and bracelet set that suited her perfectly. After we returned that evening, we gathered on the patio of Amanda's Fonda for margaritas, stories and jokes.
As that was our last evening as a group, as it got later, we realized everyone wanted to have their picture taken with Ken and Donna. I believe we must have blinded them with all the flash bulbs, but they were good sports about it. My only regret is that in my preoccupation with getting photos of everyone else, I neglected to have someone take a picture of me with them.
As the evening wound down, I got to spend a fair amount of time talking to Ken and Donna about the ups and downs of running a successful website and find out a bit about their hometown of Regina, Saskatchewan, Canada. It was inspiring to meet people so dedicated to raising awareness and providing crucial support for those with chronic illness. And so funny! We laughed late into the night. Most importantly, I could see the love Ken and Donna had for each other.
Last year, Ken began a new site for cancer patients and their families, Cancerhugs. He had no way of knowing at the time how significant this project would become. In June of 2003 came the shocking news that Donna herself had cancer. They both faced this challenge with great courage, bolstered by prayers from literally all over the world. The hospital treating Donna was 150 miles from their home, which meant long commutes for Ken, who was trying to balance illness with childcare, the websites and running a glass-etching business out of his home. Donna had to be quarantined frequently during her treatment, so there were times Ken couldn't see her when he wanted to.
A fibromyalgia conference had been planned in August 2003 near Regina but had to be cancelled after Donna's diagnosis. Several of us who had made reservations decided to get together anyway. One of the evenings we were in Regina, we went out to dinner with Ken and his boy Mike. Mike was a delight, obviously the product of awesome parents. Ken was all smiles, but I could sense the heavy heart and exhaustion behind it. After we ate, we decided to surprise Donna, who was at home but under quarantine, and at least wave to her from the yard. She appeared at the door, tears of happiness in her eyes, looking a bit tired but strong. She came out onto the front porch for awhile so we could talk with her. I got to give her a hug. She hugged me so tightly in return.
As the months passed, Donna passed through the first round of chemo with flying colors. Things were looking up. She had had her own stem cells harvested before the chemo and was to undergo a procedure to return those cells to her. Then they got the awful news that the cancer had returned much sooner than expected. More aggressive measures were called for, and the hazards to her survival became greater.
Donna was given the option to discontinue treatment, which would mean certain death, or to undergo a risky stem cell transplant from her brother, who was a perfect match. She was told she might not survive the surgery. She decided it would be a worthwhile gamble. The surgery itself was a success, and doctors were calling it a miracle. But something unexpected happened. Donna began to show signs of a stroke or something similar. Then, suddenly, her heart stopped. Doctors were able to restart it, but she slipped into a coma. There was a chance that one of her medications was the culprit, so they discontinued it with the hope that when it left her system, she would revive. She did not awaken.
Donna had requested some time ago that should she ever be in a vegetative state that she not be kept alive by machines. When the doctors announced that there was less than a one percent chance of Donna coming out of the coma, Ken knew it was time to take her home.
I fully expected Donna to do one last remarkable thing, and she did. About an hour before she died, while Ken was holding her hand and talking to her about their children, she opened her eyes and looked right at him. She drew her last breath gazing at Ken, on June 28, 2004.
Donna fought her cancer aggressively and with great spirit, never once giving up. Her soul must have been so weary toward the end. But now she is free.
Some would ask what the point was in having Donna suffer so if she was not going to survive her cancer. This past year, her courage and her love for Ken have inspired thousands of people all over the world. Many have read her story and have been able to put their own lives into perspective. We may never know how many people have become stronger for knowing her, even if most of them never met her. That has to count for something.
The very least I can do is tell others that there are good people in the world and that we should take whatever opportunity we have to appreciate them.
I believe most people's deaths, even when they seem untimely, have a higher purpose. From Donna, I have learned the importance of fighting the good fight even when the odds are against you.
I hope this will inspire more people to love well. When you love well, you can face anything.
I am a much better person for knowing the Euteneiers.
Someday I hope to become half as generous as they have been.
Over the next few months, I found out that Donna E. was the wife of Ken Euteneier, the webmaster of Fibrohugs. I also came to find out that despite Ken having fibromyalgia himself, he and his wife Donna (pictured above) worked tirelessly to provide the services of Fibrohugs without charging a membership fee to cover their costs. They believed in it enough to want everyone to have access.
So when a conference for Fibrohugs members was scheduled for fall 2002 in Colorado Springs, I signed up. I was anxious to meet the people who made Fibrohugs tick. The night I arrived, most of the attendees were having dinner at one of the restaurants owned by the conference hostess. It was there I first saw Donna on the restaurant patio laughing with one of the members. Made me think, “Yep, these are my kind of people.”
The next day was the conference breakfast and presentations. It was there that I got a full sense of the scope of Fibrohugs and how deeply the support provided had touched the members' lives. Seeing the love and admiration on that stage at the Navajo Hogan was incredible. It was impossible to not be moved by it.
The next day, the group travelled to an historic mountain gambling town called Cripple Creek. When I tired of the slot machines, I went into one of the shops and ran into Donna looking at the very same jewelry that had intrigued me. I joked with her about her good taste. She settled upon a ring and bracelet set that suited her perfectly. After we returned that evening, we gathered on the patio of Amanda's Fonda for margaritas, stories and jokes.
As that was our last evening as a group, as it got later, we realized everyone wanted to have their picture taken with Ken and Donna. I believe we must have blinded them with all the flash bulbs, but they were good sports about it. My only regret is that in my preoccupation with getting photos of everyone else, I neglected to have someone take a picture of me with them.
As the evening wound down, I got to spend a fair amount of time talking to Ken and Donna about the ups and downs of running a successful website and find out a bit about their hometown of Regina, Saskatchewan, Canada. It was inspiring to meet people so dedicated to raising awareness and providing crucial support for those with chronic illness. And so funny! We laughed late into the night. Most importantly, I could see the love Ken and Donna had for each other.
Last year, Ken began a new site for cancer patients and their families, Cancerhugs. He had no way of knowing at the time how significant this project would become. In June of 2003 came the shocking news that Donna herself had cancer. They both faced this challenge with great courage, bolstered by prayers from literally all over the world. The hospital treating Donna was 150 miles from their home, which meant long commutes for Ken, who was trying to balance illness with childcare, the websites and running a glass-etching business out of his home. Donna had to be quarantined frequently during her treatment, so there were times Ken couldn't see her when he wanted to.
A fibromyalgia conference had been planned in August 2003 near Regina but had to be cancelled after Donna's diagnosis. Several of us who had made reservations decided to get together anyway. One of the evenings we were in Regina, we went out to dinner with Ken and his boy Mike. Mike was a delight, obviously the product of awesome parents. Ken was all smiles, but I could sense the heavy heart and exhaustion behind it. After we ate, we decided to surprise Donna, who was at home but under quarantine, and at least wave to her from the yard. She appeared at the door, tears of happiness in her eyes, looking a bit tired but strong. She came out onto the front porch for awhile so we could talk with her. I got to give her a hug. She hugged me so tightly in return.
As the months passed, Donna passed through the first round of chemo with flying colors. Things were looking up. She had had her own stem cells harvested before the chemo and was to undergo a procedure to return those cells to her. Then they got the awful news that the cancer had returned much sooner than expected. More aggressive measures were called for, and the hazards to her survival became greater.
Donna was given the option to discontinue treatment, which would mean certain death, or to undergo a risky stem cell transplant from her brother, who was a perfect match. She was told she might not survive the surgery. She decided it would be a worthwhile gamble. The surgery itself was a success, and doctors were calling it a miracle. But something unexpected happened. Donna began to show signs of a stroke or something similar. Then, suddenly, her heart stopped. Doctors were able to restart it, but she slipped into a coma. There was a chance that one of her medications was the culprit, so they discontinued it with the hope that when it left her system, she would revive. She did not awaken.
Donna had requested some time ago that should she ever be in a vegetative state that she not be kept alive by machines. When the doctors announced that there was less than a one percent chance of Donna coming out of the coma, Ken knew it was time to take her home.
I fully expected Donna to do one last remarkable thing, and she did. About an hour before she died, while Ken was holding her hand and talking to her about their children, she opened her eyes and looked right at him. She drew her last breath gazing at Ken, on June 28, 2004.
Donna fought her cancer aggressively and with great spirit, never once giving up. Her soul must have been so weary toward the end. But now she is free.
Some would ask what the point was in having Donna suffer so if she was not going to survive her cancer. This past year, her courage and her love for Ken have inspired thousands of people all over the world. Many have read her story and have been able to put their own lives into perspective. We may never know how many people have become stronger for knowing her, even if most of them never met her. That has to count for something.
The very least I can do is tell others that there are good people in the world and that we should take whatever opportunity we have to appreciate them.
I believe most people's deaths, even when they seem untimely, have a higher purpose. From Donna, I have learned the importance of fighting the good fight even when the odds are against you.
I hope this will inspire more people to love well. When you love well, you can face anything.
I am a much better person for knowing the Euteneiers.
Someday I hope to become half as generous as they have been.
© 2010, klbrowser