John Formanowicz

May 2, 1953 - September 23, 2009

John is survived by his loving wife, Risha; his daughter, Ann (Thomas) Bersani; and his son, Eric Formanowicz (Sarah Linker). His parents, Daniel and Jacqueline Formanowicz; his brother, Dan (Kendra) Formanowicz; his sister, Ginger (Laroy) Burgess; and his brother, Michael (Heidi). Several nieces, nephews, aunts, uncles, cousins, and extended family also survive him.

Risha, John's Wife

June 11, 2010, and I’m finally writing this amalgam of this hellatious time in our lives.

My husband, John Formanowicz, was born May 2, 1953. He died due to metastatic renal cell carcinoma, on Sept 23, 2009 at 2:10 pm. There is an email that has been around for a while about what your ‘dash’ meant. Your life, how the world knew you when you were here. I hope I can do justice to what John’s ‘dash’ meant. I hope, also, that my dash will hold the love and respect that John’s held so well. I’d first like to tell the beginning part of this journey.

We met New Year’s Eve 1974. We both graduated in 1975; me, from a hospital school of nursing, with my RN. He, from a state university with a teaching degree. Two years later, we were married on Dec. 18, 1976. Within five days, I had been hospitalized and told to check in with my gynecologist. Within six weeks, I had been diagnosed with early stage ovarian cancer and had my left ovary removed. This was all during the blizzard of 1977 at Buffalo General Hospital, my alma mater. We were blessed by God to have two beautiful children, and raised them near their extended family, in the community we both lived in our whole lives. It certainly wasn’t a perfect life or marriage, but it was one helluva ride.

John's illness all started on Nov 16, 2007. That is, to our knowledge it started then; but, in reality, as we all know with kidney cancer, it can be years in the making. John called me and said he wasn’t feeling well. He had cramps, diarrhea, and thought there was blood in his stools. That was quite possible because shortly after our daughter’s wedding in August 2007, he had a recurrence of knee pain. He knew that the next step would be knee replacements, but had convinced the doctor to first try anti-inflammatory medications. He’d tried one that didn’t work but the current medication seemed to be doing the trick even though he admitted to having some gastro-intestinal troubles. That particular morning, the GI troubles were worse. He drove back home and I met him at the hospital around 11:45 a.m. He was triaged into the Emergency Department and they proceeded to do their primary assessment. While waiting for xray and blood work results, we chatted with people we knew. I had worked there years ago and still was friendly with many people at the hospital. At around 3 p.m., they took him down for an abdominal CT scan to rule out an ulcer (a result of the joint meds). At 4:30 p.m., the physician’s assistant came in to say that they wanted to do another CT, but with dye this time. We said, “Sure. Go for it.” And down he went.

We waited. We were both getting a little hungry; his brother and dad stopped in to see what was going on and how he was faring. They left. I don’t remember the exact time, but I know it was nearing 6:00 p.m. The Physician’s Assistant and the ED physician walked into the room. I was holding John’s hand, we looked up expectantly. That moment, the Physician's Assistant told us John did have a beginning peptic ulcer; but, because I was a nurse, I could manage that and help him with diet. They would stop the joint medication that John felt worked so well. Then, he paused, and said, “We did the second CT scan to be sure and you have kidney cancer. We have contacted your doctor, but where would you like to go? Roswell Park Cancer Institute or Hamot Medical Center?" I think we both blinked about ten times, I was still holding his hand, and I looked at him, and at the same time, we said, “Roswell.”

And so the kidney cancer journey began. My first response was to get online and get information. I felt as though if I had information, I could be better armed to advocate and run the gauntlet ahead of us. I found the Kidney Cancer Association website. I started ‘lurking’ there—reading all I could about stages/grading/treatments/prognosis—anything that would make me be able to support John’s decisions and knock this cancer into next Sunday! What I found at the KCA website were real people with real suggestions. Those who have become an unforgettable part of my life and our journey; to name a few, were Lisa, Susan, Babs, and Leigh. It is amazing the strength, the solidarity, and the love that develops when we gather against something so formidable a foe as cancer — in any form. Many blessings for all who visited those forums/chats/blogs.

His first appointment was Dec 13, 2007. We were processed through, and he was signed on to a new study for Sutent, an oral chemotherapy agent —a ‘targeted therapy’ for RCC that had decent results for those who could tolerate it. Biopsies were planned. CT’s were planned. Other tests were scheduled. We were officially members of the ‘green card’ club. The club no one really wants to join. (The medical record cards that Roswell uses are green embossed cards.)

He started the Sutent before Christmas 2007 and there were several side effects that were breaking through early on. He developed really high blood pressure. His blood values were reflecting that his tumor was stimulating his bone marrow too much and making his blood too thick. He was referred to a Hematologist for further evaluation. While John continued on the study until the end of January, he had to be phlebotomized seven times due to the persistent tumor activity thickening his blood. I became very concerned and we discussed options with his surgeon. Finally, he stopped the study early and had surgery on Feb 15, 2008. He had a hand-guided laparoscopic left radical nephrectomy. He didn’t get out of surgery until mid evening and we didn’t see him until late evening. When he was wheeled into the room, he had a chest tube. That was curious because there was nothing historically going on with his lungs. The surgeon told us that as they were dissecting the 7 cm tumor and 26 nodes away from his diaphragm, they accidentally nicked his lung. Therefore, the need for a chest tube. Even with all that, he still went home without the chest tube, by the afternoon on the next day. The remainder of that spring went well. He felt better, went back to work after a couple weeks, and felt generally optimistic. In early summer, he complained that he was feeling tired and had a backache. We had just graduated to every three month follow-up visits. In August, we were surprised when the physician said there were some shadows in his lungs and they wanted to repeat the CT scan of his lungs. It was confirmed that there were small tumors in both lungs. They did not start chemo right away because they said they needed to see if they grew or were possibly just old scarring from an earlier pneumonia of years past. It was cancer. They grew. He went on Sutent at the regular dose on November 7, 2008. He was able to tolerate the Sutent for the most part except for the fatigue. During that winter, when he would come home from work, he'd ask to hold off on dinner, he wanted to take a nap and would I just come sit near him …. and hold his hand I did. I loved holding his hand.

We continued through the winter and spring, a little uneasy; but, for the most part, receiving relatively okay reports. Later in the spring, he started having the more annoying side effects of not only the altered taste, but also the hand-foot syndrome, and some other very uncomfortable skin responses. We tried many different interventions. Some helped, some didn’t, but we kept going. He started missing work, which for him, was not something that happened frequently. When the end of June 2009 came, he had chest x-rays that showed a small pleural effusion. No treatment was planned because it was so small. It was a watchful waiting plan. Within 2 weeks, he was hospitalized with what the Emergency Department initially suspected might have been a heart attack; however, it was the pleural effusion. It had somewhat grown. He was admitted. He was sent home with oxygen 24 hours a day. He had been using oxygen at night with his CPAP since 2006. The doctor we saw back in January 2008 had said this was an indicator that his tumor had started at that time. He looked at past blood work and more or less pinpointed it to May 2006. Eight days later, he was again admitted with severe shortness of breath. The next day, they did a chest tube placement and a few days later, did a pleurodesis. They removed 3 liters of fluid on insertion of the chest tube. They drained another 3 liters in the next 4 days, and followed with chest tube removal and a talc pleurodesis. Needless to say, I had quite a conversation with his primary and with his oncologist.. I wanted, and had been praying for, as little discomfort as possible for him when it got to the point of complications. I was quite frank with them both. As far as I was concerned, it was 8 days of unnecessary discomfort that SHOULD have been avoided because it was not done earlier. The surgeon could not do a VAT because the chest cavity was too filled with blood. He used liquid talc. From what I understood, at that point, there was too much advancement to treat it adequately. The outside surface of the lungs was too irregular for the talc to seal completely. And that was the next drop in status, the cavity continued to fill with fluid and could not be abated. Back to Roswell we went after that ordeal. They were suggesting John try Nexavar to possibly battle the tumors and get some relief. He tried it for only a short time and stopped it because he could not tolerate the side effects.

To shorten this sad story, he ended up at Roswell 2 more times in August, and at our local hospital 3 more times. He decided to go on Hospice care Sept 10, 2009. Our son came home and stayed with me so that he could help with his dad’s care. Both of our children were present for us in ways we could never have imagined. I managed him at home those last days with the help of some excellent nurses and compassionate aides. He was heavily medicated and still so uncomfortable. There was evidence of brain metastasis. He was hospitalized for the last time on Sept 19, 2009, and as I began this essay, passed away with me by his side, our daughter, who came to stay in the hospital with us, and two dear friends, who were just meant to be there at that moment. (He had an an abrupt, accelerated retirement earlier. We had been going to have a small party for him earlier in the month, but it got scrapped due to his rapid slide.) I had just finished reading the journal entries that his coworkers had written for his retirement and I closed the journal, saying, “John, you are a well loved man.”….and he passed into Spirit. I jumped up, went to the door of the room, asked for a nurse and a stethoscope. The nurse came but forgot the stethoscope; when she brought it, she was going to hand it to me, but thought better of it. My last words in that room, to John, were, “Oh, John, what am I going to do without you?”

My husband was a Case Manager for our local county Department of Social Services. He worked with many different types of clients. The most recent caseload was with clients who were disabled or applying for Social Security benefits for one reason or another. He worked there for 20 years, and enjoyed going to work, even when it made him sad. He felt good about helping others.

His wake was only one night. It was the night before his memorial Mass.

It was a rainy night, and to keep our younger nephew busy, we had him on the ‘how many more’ detail. That meant he would go to the door, look out to the sidewalk and come back to report to my son or my brother-in-law, how many more people were waiting to come into the wake. As he reported each time, it was always the same…the line didn’t dwindle….it went to the end of the sidewalk where the center sidewalk met the city walk. People stood in line for over a half-hour to pay their respects to John. One of his clients came, bearing a beautiful plant, to meet me, our daughter, and son, because he wanted to tell us how much John helped him and how much he loved him. We were there for 4 hours, and over 400 signatures were listed in the Condolences Guestbook.

There were 3 eulogies given that day and I'd like to share them

Eulogy written and presented by:
John's youngest brother, Michael Formanowicz:

My brother John was a great man. I’m sure none of you are surprised to hear me say that, and it’s very easy to say that someone is ‘great’. Now, I’m going to tell you what made him a great man.

Not surprised to see so many people here today, nor was I surprised to see so many people at visitation yesterday, and that’s because John made it very easy to be his friend. He was caring and personable and a lot of fun to be around. He remained close friends with many of those he went to school with, even as the years passed and everyone’s lives got busier.

He wasn’t just a neighbor to all of the wonderful people on the 600 block of Park Ave –he was a reliable and trustworthy friend who watched out for them. The people he worked with weren’t just co-workers—they were truly his friends.

Got to know a lot of my friends, and they never just considered him as “Mike’s brother”—to them, he was their good friend as well. His in-laws were always more than that to him—he loved them and treated them as if they were his friends.

Speaking of his family, he was always a loving husband, dad, brother, son, uncle, cousin, and nephew. If you really want some evidence of what a great man John was, take the time to get to know his kids—you don’t raise kids as intelligent and caring and loving as Ann and Eric are, by accident.

John was Best Man at my wedding—I don’t know that there is anyone who fit the term “Best Man” better than John.

Finally, they say you can’t choose your relatives, only your friends—well, John, no matter how we got to know you, we all would have chosen you as a friend.

Written and presented by John's wife, Risha:

I wrote this in October 2008, at night, during a time that he was asleep, and I couldn’t sleep.

On December 23, 2006, I stood at this altar with John as we renewed our wedding vows from 1976. I remember I cried so hard as I read the re-commitment vow’s last phrase, “ ...come what may...”–not because I was afraid, but at that moment I realized how totally we had become connected to each other.

Of course, we weren’t perfect. Our life together was truly like a roller coaster—John loved roller coasters— and, so long as I could hold his hand, I could like them a little bit, too.

I am, when all is said and done, grateful. Grateful, that he took Carol P. Habich’s suggestion to ask me out for New Year’s Eve 1974, and even more grateful that I accepted.

We certainly lived an interesting life together. We had our share of ups and downs, but also, we made a really good family together. Our children were gifts, and we knew it. We were lucky, and we knew it. We were divinely blessed and we knew it.

I know that John will always be with me. In my heart, my mind, and my soul....in all the bad science fiction movies, in all the lost games of Scrabble, in all our ‘Maid of the Mist’ journeys, –in each small and large memory we created together. We were lucky. And we know it.

Lastly, John was never really sure he was a success…but I think this poem helps make that decision:

Success

To laugh often and much,
To win the respect
Of intelligent people and the affection of children,
To earn the appreciation of honest critics
And endure the betrayal of false friends
To appreciate beauty,
To find the best in others!
To leave the world a bit better,
Whether by a healthy child,
A garden patch,
Or a redeemed social condition.
To know even one life
Has breathed easier
Because you have lived-
This is to have succeeded.

Yes, John was a success. He was a loving husband and father.
He will be missed beyond any description.

Eulogy written by and presented by
Les Sikorski, a long time friend:

What I loved the most about John was that he always’s made me laugh. We would laugh at the dumb things. Someone would tell a joke, and John would return the customary courtesy smile. Conversely, like the time Mr. Mancuso can into the high school auditorium with his hair piece off center, I remember John laughing hysterically, out loud. That cost him a little detention time. Sorry Mr. and Mrs. Forman, that was a 37 year old secret.

I had to search my memory as to when John and I first met. After a while it came to me; It was on the basketball courts of the now vacant Woodrow ave facility. It was during the spring of 1969,our sophomore year of high school.

We were playing a pick up game. I was doing my best wanna be Pete Maravich, while John did his best “NC Bob Macadoo. As I cut in front of him, I felt a slap to the side of my head. I stopped, turned around

And looked him in the eye, at which point John started laughing and said “whats the matter kid, never had a rabbit punch.

I said I’ll give you a rabbit punch, leaping at him where he promptly picked me out of the air, and with that infectious laugh said, you have to do better than that and placed me on the ground. Embarrassed, I laughed with him. At that instant, I thought this guy is special.

John was indeed special; Look around this room.

As we all went on thru high school, John continued to make us all smile and laugh. Theatrically, He did so with two classic high school performances. The first was our Jr class play, “Don’t drink the water”. Cast as Hatami the temperamental, eccentric chef, who could ever forget the moment John took the stage to proclaim to the audience “Ambassador Magee, I simply cannot bake a cake with infidels in my kitchen; I’m that kind of person. Clearly, the best delivery of the night even stealing the spotlight at that point from his Uncle, Paul Lancaster.

Continuing in our senior year, it was decided that our school presentation that year would be the musical “Guy’s and Dolls”. John was cast as “Big Julie”, an impatient, compulsive gambler with a short temper and a loaded weapon.

John’s performance topped his first. During his time on stage, while rolling the dice, John was directed to call out his point; ironically, every time John rolled and called the point, the dice point came out exactly as rolled.

The cast reaction was very spontaneous and impromptu to Julie’s lead.

Those on stage at the time laughed hysterically, all while Mr. Palermo our director gave us that look of disapproval. It was John at his best. Leading the mayhem and disruption.

Saving his best effort for last, who can ever forget the time John, was savagely attacked by a bumble bee in his car while driving down Nevins Street . It is a good thing that the Forman family only lived a few blocks from Elman’s garage. Unlike many of our wayward friends, that was the only time John ever made the paper; that is except for the day he married his beautiful wife, Risha.

If you were to muse over Heaven’s dictionary, and look up the definition of John Formanowicz, I believe it would read something like this;

John Formanowicz, a man of tremendous integrity. There is no cop out or gray area with John. It is black or white; Right or wrong.

Loyal to his friends and true to his beliefs. A great father and husband, teacher and student , who sacrificed and raised his children to be outstanding adults, all during very difficult and often trying times.

Taught to place others before him, which in turn returned laughter and tremendous respect from those who know and love him. Great sense of humor, and laughs at all things. Never taking himself too seriously.

Alternatively, if you should ever try to do a Google heaven search under the category of a great human being, undoubtedly , the first reference you see will be entitled John Formanowicz – see additional reference as Hatami or Big Julie.

So with that my dear friend, it is now time to tell Roscoe to get his leash, and place him in the stern of your new boat, and with your arm around him set sail for that one particular harbor. You finally now have calm seas and a good stiff breeze to get you both back to the island.

Let us all take comfort knowing that as much as we all love John, our Lord Jesus Christ must love him a little more, as He called him home far too soon to be with Him.

I believe that we all now truly have our own personal guardian angel. I recall the day Risha phoned to deliver the news of John’s passing. It was a cold , cloudy Carolina day. Just before her call came, the sky cleared and the sun began to warm the outside air. It was just as if it was John signaling to say I am here, will be checking in on you all, from time to time, so be good.

Right then it occurred to me that perhaps even our Lord needs to smile and enjoy a good laugh every now and then. He must have been perusing through Heavens dictionary and found the name John Formanowicz.

I love you, Johnny

End of Eulogies

The professionals that helped us slog through the maze of illness were Dr. F. Cosico, Dr. Y. Kim, Dr. M. Wong, Dr. Sood, Dr. Z. Bernstein, and many physician’s assistants, nurses, friends, and family members.

Sometimes, even tho cancer cannot quell the spirit, it does win the body. In moments when all you want to do is hold your loved ones hand, that is when you feel as though ‘cancer won’. The reality is, we don’t know our life plan, we can only do our best on a given day. It’s up to us to choose to love well, to get out of our own way, and let love lead your way. Many blessings to all who are still in the fray with cancer. I never saw it as a ‘fight’ or a ‘battle’…maybe more like a long distance gauntlet of events…that maybe we had a chance to overcome each one….until we couldn’t, anymore. John knew this would be what he died of…we had talked so much in the 22 months when this entered our lives again.

Neither of us was expecting that he’d leave as soon as he did. He did say, “I hear the clock ticking, and it’s getting louder. I look back over the hill and I don’t see too many fires and bomb craters, so I guess I did ok”. Yup, he did okay.

When we released John's ashes on May 22nd, I read the following prayer, which I had previously written in my journal for John, to our family and friends who were present.....

Love is All there is
I wish you peace,
I wish you comfort,
I wish you guidance and protection,
As we continue our journey--
Separate for now,
But always together,
In that place where love lives.