Friday, July 25, 2025 – Day 346

Friday, July 25, 2025

Good morning everyone!

Today we leave for Minocqua. I’m excited—but also a little apprehensive. I’m really looking forward to time with the kids, their friends, my sister Lis and her husband Steve. Most importantly, it’s a chance to make memories with the grandkids.

I keep looking out toward the horizon, and I know my time is short. Wyatt and Coco are still young, and I know their memories of our time together will eventually fade. So I’m especially looking forward to snapping pictures, laughing, being goofy, and answering all of Wyatt’s wonderfully blunt questions. I know he’ll have plenty:
“Why Grandy no walk?”
“Why Grandy have that tube in his belly?”
“Why Grandy wrapped in Saran Wrap?” “Why Grandy go to bed before me?”
And so on.

I love his curiosity—and his questions and observations are sometimes shockingly insightful for a four-year-old. He makes everyone laugh with his wit.

Even though I was up-north back in April, this trip feels like a kind of anniversary. It was one year ago, during this same week with this same group, that I first began noticing the early symptoms of ALS. I had trouble walking, my thumbs weren’t cooperating, and I’d start slurring words—especially after a drink or two. It didn’t take much. One or two beers, and I sounded like I’d been on an all-day bender.

That week, we held our own version of the Paris Olympics, with daily competitions between Wyatt and William (Katy and Dave’s son). They were evenly matched as three-year-olds—although Wyatt had a few months on William. It turned out to be one of the most memorable weeks I’ve ever spent at Fence Lake. Every time those photos pop up on the Aura frame, I smile at the fun we had.

On our last full day, we all went to the brewery in Woodruff. It was rainy, so it seemed like a good spot to celebrate the end of a great week. I had a couple of double IPAs, and almost immediately my speech and coordination took a nosedive. Cindy was watching this unfold and grew really concerned. She asked if we could leave. I said yes right away—because I knew something wasn’t right.

She helped me out to the car while the others stayed behind. At that point, we weren’t yet thinking “neurological.” But during the ride back to the cabin, Cindy asked if I would consider going to the ER. She fully expected me to say no—and was stunned when I agreed. Normally, I’d push back, but I knew something serious was going on, and it was time to find out what.

That visit marked the beginning of my ALS journey. The ER ruled out stroke and brain tumor, but couldn’t give a conclusive diagnosis—other than it appeared to be neurological. The doctor even floated the idea of Parkinson’s, which sounded scary at the time. Looking back, though… once I got the ALS diagnosis four days later, I would’ve gladly taken Parkinson’s instead of this shitty disease.

So yes—this trip will feel different for all of us. But it’s still going to be full of laughter, sunshine, great food, and plenty of time on the lake. This morning we’ll load up the cars (with Zack’s help), hit the road, and rendezvous with the DC crew at the Central Wisconsin Airport and by dinner time we should arrive to the cabin for what will be a fun filled week.

Last night, Barb and Mark hosted us for dinner so we wouldn’t have to cook. We also got to see Linda, who came down from La Crosse to visit her grandkids. It was another great evening of stories and catching up. It was also Zack’s first time at their house—Mark gave him the full tour, and Zack was genuinely impressed by the Balasi family history. Their circus background is no joke—it’s fascinating. If you haven’t heard the story, ask Mark. He loves telling it.

Have a great Friday, everyone—and tomorrow, I’ll be writing you from Fence Lake. Love you guys! ❤️