Monthly Archives: September 2013

Country Music

I don’t like country music. I realize, since we live in Georgia, I just lost half the readers. But…well…I just don’t.

Saturday was a great day.

A day full of friends, family, and one of Travis’ favorite things.

College football.

They were on the road, headed for Athens, by 6:00 AM. On the trip up they talked and laughed in amazement over the past 24 hours. Did Travis seriously talk to Lee Corso on the phone? Did Carrie have a separate conversation with Chris Fowler? One in which he apologized for taking so long to get in touch with her??? (After all, the #TravOnGameDay campaign had started a whole 48 hours earlier ;-).) Did Travis do a television interview for WSB? It was all so crazy.

As they pulled into Athens, Travis’ friends all managed to arrive at the exact same time…along with a four foot cut out of his head stating “I’m dying to be on GameDay.” In case you’re sitting there thinking, “Wow, his friends are seriously insensitive,” just know…Travis decided on the quote to put on what would become known as “The Head.” That’s just Trav.

And so the day began.


Travis played cornhole with his friends. Pictures were taken. Laughs were exchanged. It was like the hundreds of other tailgating experiences in Travis’ life.

And yet it wasn’t.

Something was different.

Travis was different.

He enjoyed every moment. You could see it in his eyes. Those hazel eyes that would well up with tears over, and over, and over again throughout the day. It was like every time you looked at Travis all you saw was love. And gratitude.

He was so grateful to be there. Enjoying the moment. Enjoying his friends. Enjoying one of his greatest pleasures in life.

And so it was time to head to College GameDay.


Upon arrival, Travis and his friends were treated like royalty. Even compared to the other individuals holding backstage passes, there was something different about Travis and his group. Travis was allowed in areas other backstage pass holders were not. Travis was given tours of areas others were not.

photo 2

Travis was brought up on the “demo field” as it is know on College GameDay. Others were not.


He was introduced to the crowd and ESPN host, Chris Fowler, shared a little about this UGA alum’s journey. His fight. The crowd cheered him. Everyone was smiling. And Travis’ eyes, once again, started welling up with tears.

On the way out Travis got to speak to David Pollack, had a picture made with him, and a football signed. (And, by the way, the face David Pollack made when asked if he got all the tweets…priceless.)


And, of course, he got to meet Lee Corso, Chris Fowler, and the rest of the guys and even got a few pictures made at the desk.


The morning was…well…perfect. All his friends could have hoped it would be for Travis.

And the game was still ahead of him. Arguably, one of UGA’s best games.

So what does all this have to do with country music?

As College GameDay ended, the group headed back to tailgate. Everyone was still abuzz from the experience. Everyone was so excited. It was like, for a moment, they forgot why ESPN let Travis be included in the first place.

The group sat down and just replayed the morning in their minds. A couple of the guys were playing cornhole, but mainly, everyone was just relaxing and enjoying the moment.

And then Tim McGraw came on…Live Like You Were Dying.

The group sat there quietly listening to the song. It seemed so ironic. The timing of it. That song. It’s almost ten years old.  For it to come on at that moment. And so…they let the words sink in.

“…loved deeper…”

“…spoke sweeter…”

“…was finally the husband, that most the time I wasn’t”

“…became the friend the friend would like to have…”

“…finally read the Good Book…”

“…took a good long hard look at what I’d do if I could do it all again…”

A tear rolled down one person’s cheek. And others began crying too. Quietly. To themselves.

And, at that moment, something hit me.

Travis is one of the luckiest people I know.

How can a guy with Cholangiocarcinoma be considered lucky?

For those of you who know Travis well you know that he is known for being “lucky”. His friends often say that he has a lucky horseshoe up his proverbial you-know-what. That he has the midas touch – everything he is a part of is successful.

That’s just Travis.

But, lately, it has seemed like Travis’ luck has run out.

Diagnosed with one of the rarest cancers. One of the hardest cancers to cure. The chemo stopped working after four, short months.

And yet. At the risk of sounding insensitive. I still think. Travis is one of the luckiest guys I know.

Travis didn’t get hit by a bus 5 months ago. He found out he had an incurable disease and his time was limited.

And now…he is living like he is dying.

And so. As Tim says…he “took a good long hard look at what he should do if he could do it all again”. And he did that.

Had he been hit by a bus…there would have never been “a good hard look”. There would have never been the changes that all of us have seen over the past five months.

Travis has loved deeper. Travis has spoken sweeter. And he is definitely the friend a friend would like to have. He spends every morning reading the Good Book and listening to sermons. Carrie feels like they are falling in love all over again. And his kids adore him more than words can express.

While he hasn’t gone 2.7 seconds on a bull name Fu Manchu…he was on ESPN’s College GameDay. He just got back from a family trip to the beach. And, as I write this, he has taken his family to the Falcons v. Patriots game for his oldest son’s birthday.


He sometimes pulls the kids into bed with him at night…just to enjoy the extra snuggles.

And so…as Tim says…he “lives like he is dying”. Because he doesn’t know how much longer he will be able to.

Despite having terminal cancer. And despite the chemo no longer working. Travis is still one of the luckiest guys I know. Regardless of the outcome. Because he got a second chance at life and he has taken it. He is living life.

On Saturday Travis, with tears in his eyes, said, “I just can’t die. I love it here so much. I love my family so much. I love all of you so much. I’m just not ready.

And so…a few questions for you. Because not all of us are as lucky as Trav. People do get hit by buses. Have heart attacks. Aneurisms. Strokes.

Do you love the deepest you possibly can? Could you speak a little kinder? Are you the friend a friend would like to have? When was the last time you read The Good Book?

Do you…live like you are dying?


If you had told me, a month ago, what would happen this week I would have burst into tears.

If you would have told me a month ago, what would happen this week, I would have been filled with dread and despair.

If you would have told me a month ago, what would happen this week, I would have entered the week hopeless.

So how is it Friday of this dreadful week and I am…smiling.



And more importantly…I am experiencing this with Carrie and Travis.

Yep. They’re smiling too. They’re giddy too.

On Monday, we found out the CA19-9 (Travis’ cancer marker) doubled…again.

On Tuesday, the CT scan showed new growth. New cancer. The chemo stopped working.

On Wednesday, my sister text me I’m so sad about Travis this morning, I don’t want to get up and go through the motions of the day. I can’t imagine how he and Carrie are feeling. I want to DO something and yet I know praying is DOING something, it just doesn’t feel like it.

My response? I have to get the kids to school in ten minutes and all three of us are still in our pajamas. 

But what about Travis? What was he doing Wednesday morning? Laying in bed? Holed up in despair?

Not Travis.

He was preparing for a speech. A speech he agreed to give a month earlier before anybody knew what this week would be like.

Travis has prayed several times, over the last few months that, if God gave him a platform, he would tell his story and what God has done in his life.

And now he had a platform.

Carrie told him it would be ok to cancel. They would understand. Who wouldn’t after the 48 hours they had.  But Trav said no. He asked for a platform and now he had one. He wouldn’t walk away from the opportunity.

Besides. God knew a month ago that the speech and the results would come on the same week.

And Travis knew He knew.

So he delivered his speech. And of course, in true Trav style, knocked it out of the park.

Not a dry eye in the room.

And that isn’t the end of the story. There’s more…

Around the same time of the speech, unbeknownst to Travis, a campaign was brewing. A campaign started by his brother-in-law, Joe. Not a campaign to get Travis some crazy treatment. Not a campaign to “end cancer” in the name of Travis. Not a campaign to raise a crazy amount of money.

A simple campaign.

A campaign to get Travis on ESPN Game Day.

Cause sometimes a smile. Laughter. Being loved is the best medicine.

Joe knows how much Travis loves sports. Loves football. Loves The Bulldogs. So he set out with a simple task. Get Travis on College Game Day. Give him something to smile about.

By the end of Wednesday there were 6,000 tweets with #GetTravOnGameDay.

Not too bad.

At the time of this writing?


No. That’s not a typo. That’s real.

So Game Day has called. Trav talked to Lee Corso. Back Stage Passes. Pictures with the guys. Everything a fan could want.

And then WSB called. They picked up on the trend on Twitter and they wanted an interview.

Another platform.

You can watch it at 5:45 today or, if you are reading this later, go to the WSB website to watch it.

And so now. Things are happening fast. Phones are ringing. People he never thought he would talk to are calling.

And so…We are all a little giddy.

What changed? What turned the tide of despair that seemed unstoppable just three days ago?

Is it being on TV? Talking to famous people? He can’t lie. That is pretty cool. But that isn’t it.

So what is it? What is strong enough to stop grief? Anguish? Heart break?


Love of a brother. Love of so many friends. Love of so many strangers.

Nothing is powerful enough to stop the wave of despair. Nothing but love.

And now you can show Travis some love.  Because the campaign is not over.  Travis graciously accepted the backstage passes to Game Day and is excited to meet the guys.  But frankly…his friends…want more.  We want everyone to hear Travis’ story.  Not just for Travis’ sake…but for their own.  So take to Twitter.  Facebook.  Whatever.  And tell College Game Day you want to see something about Travis and his story.  It is not too late. #TravOnGameDay

With all the coverage we see day in and day out on all the things going wrong in this world.  How about showing the world a group of people doing things right. That in the face of despair and heartache…family, friends and strangers are gathering. Showing support.



There are all kinds of warriors.  When you think of the term “warrior” you probably picture Mel Gibson with his face painted blue screaming about freedom.

Or at least something like that….

There will be warriors on the field Saturday when the Bulldogs take on LSU.  With Travis looking on. Cheering. Watching. Wondering….

Is this my last season of watching the Dawgs play?

And then there is the most important warriors of all.

Prayer warriors.

Thankfully. Travis has lots of those in his corner.

One of Trav’s friends, Scott Belcher, emailed me yesterday.  We’ve never met. But he reads the blog.  And he shared something with me that I had to share with everyone.

This. Is the definition.

Of a warrior.


How do you know when you are truly loved?

How do you know when your life has mattered?

How do you know that you have made an impact?


Sometimes it takes tragedy to find out what you have meant to others.  To find out how much you are loved.  To find out what kind of impact you have made.

The news this week has been nothing less than tragic.  But I have stood back in awe of the response.  I have been baffled by the love and outreach I have seen.

I am amazed by Travis’ impact.

Social media is a frenzy as friends, family, coworkers, strangers to Travis try to do something…anything to help.  Whether it is a word of encouragement.  An offer to help.  A commitment to pray.

People want to help.

And the latest warms my heart because I know it will warm Trav’s.

As most of you know, Travis is a proud UGA alumni.  He attends almost all home games and travels to many away games.  He often attends their bowl games.  He tailgates and even “crashed” the student section for as long as he could despite having season tickets.  It was some time around 28 or 29 that a student looked at him and said “Dude.  Aren’t you kind of old to be in the student section?”  In short.  Travis loves the Bulldogs.

This weekend the Bulldogs have a big game.  Big enough that ESPN College Game Day will be there.

And, of course, Travis will be there.  Bright and early.  It’s who he is.  It’s what he enjoys. 

And so.  In light of the tragic news this week.  Despite their own lives.  Work. Families. Prior commitments.  Some friends have taken time from their day and started a campaign.


They have taken to social media to get ESPN’s attention to get Travis on College Game Day.

Can you think of a better person for it?  A more charismatic person? A person with more impact?

I can’t.

And so now it is your chance.  The only chance this has is to make this go viral.  And that means they need your help.

You can take to Twitter and tweet something like the following…

@CollegeGameDay @KirkHerbstreit @davidpollack47 @cbfowler  UGA grad fighting for his life #TravOnGameDay

Just be sure to include #TravOnGameDay and let’s just see what we can do for Trav.

If we can have…

an impact.

Doug Flutie

At the risk of sounding arrogant…I’m pretty good with words.  It’s why I offered to write the blog.  But I know I am not always the best with words.  There are others better.

I have the privilege of knowing someone who is great with words.  And last night he wrote the most eloquent description of Travis.  In a few paragraphs he captured Travis’ personality, will, determination, and character better than I could ever have attempted to.

I would be remiss to not share those words with you.

These are the words of Joe Petit. Carrie’s brother. Travis’ brother-in-law.  One of Travis’ best friends.

I have known Travis Lee Roberts for over two decades. He is definitely one of my closest, if not my best friend. He is electric. Nobody is more fun, nobody is funnier, nobody is more interesting and no one else can get away with the things he says and does. People always tell me, “Yeah, I know this guy and he’s just like Travis,” or “We get along cause I’m just like Travis.” Even if I don’t do it physically, I am rolling my eyes every time I hear that sort of claim. I know a lot of people, but I don’t know anyone like Travis, except Travis. 

I haven’t met one person who believes Travis can be beaten. He doesn’t lose. That is what makes him different from all the people who are supposedly “just like him.” He is will and perseverance and fire. 

The last couple days have been hard. The last couple days have brought bad news and then worse news. His chemotherapy is failing, and the cancer is growing. 

MD Anderson in Houston has a brand new clinical trial, and Travis is a shoe-in for the treatment. 

Travis said tonight that this is his Doug Flutie moment. Travis didn’t say that this is his Hail Mary, because a Hail Mary is a long shot. Travis said that this is his Doug Flutie moment, because Flutie won. 

Winners don’t compare themselves to long shots. “Winners win,” has been his refrain as long as I’ve known him, and I don’t see any reason for that to change now.

Like I said before…I couldn’t have said it better myself Joe.


As Carrie Says…

Carrie has a new saying.  She even added it to her automatic email signature.

Through it all…God is good. 

Wow.  That’s faith.

To look at your dying husband.  The father of your children and realize the likely outcome….

And to still say…

Through it all…God is good. 

That’s faith.

Today we got some answers. Which just led to more questions. Questions we don’t know the answers to. But we know one thing for sure.

As Carrie says…

Through it all…God is good.

Travis’ CT scan results were not good.  In fact….they were down right bad.  The scan showed that his lymph nodes have not changed and his main tumor in the liver has not changed.  But. Two of his smaller liver tumors have grown together to form one large tumor approximately 3 cm.  Additionally, a new 1.2 cm tumor has appeared out of nowhere in his liver.

And yet.  As Carrie says…

Through it all…God is good.

In less than two months, this cancer has taken over the current chemotherapy and laughed at it.  It neutralized it and started running rampant within Travis’ liver.

The longer Travis has this cancer. The more we realize he hasn’t, he couldn’t have, had it very long.

This thing is a beast that moves…fast.

And yet. As Carrie says…

Through it all…God is good.

It’s time to change the plan of attack.  This offense is no longer an offense and in a few short weeks it stopped playing defense as well.  So we move on.  We fight in a new way.

Typically, the next weapon in the small arsenal against Cholangiocarcinoma is a regimen called Folfiri with Avastin.  It’s not a pretty one.  It would require a port which, admittedly, Travis has said he simply cannot handle the thought of.   But.  He would get the port and every other week he would get chemotherapy.  Only he wouldn’t be spending a day getting chemotherapy.  He would spend two.  He would have a “doggy bag” of chemotherapy to take with him and walk around with for two days.  Here is a guy who in the past month, rightfully, was getting grouchy days before having to go to chemotherapy.  The thought of the I.V.  The thought of sitting there for hours.  The thought of this now being his life…forever.  It was beginning to wear on Trav.  So can you imagine the impact of the thought of a two day treatment? Carrying around your “chemo bag”?

The other option was the possibility of a medical trial that has started since their last visit to MD Anderson.  This trial is a chemotherapy that you take every day by simply swallowing a pill.

However…after talking to the PA on the phone this morning they felt like the trial was…unlikely.

Travis hit rock bottom when he realized what could be ahead of him.  Can you imagine that low? Can you imagine that feeling?   Travis and Carrie headed to  Kaiser  for the CT scan.   They sat in the waiting room.  Feeling Low.  Feeling like they just got punched.

And yet. As Carrie says…

Through it all…God is good.

They sat there for about 30 minutes.

Thirty. Depressing. Minutes.

And then the phone rang….

And just like that.  Travis was in the medical trial.

I am still baffled as I write those words.  I have researched medical trials.  I was at the Emory appointment when the Emory medical trial was discussed.  It doesn’t just…happen.

There is an application. A BIG application. Forms. A waiting period.

You don’t just find out in thirty minutes that “you’re in”. 

And yet. As Carrie says…

Through it all…God is good.

So Travis is going to be part of a Phase 1 medical trial.  As he says.  He is a lab rat.  Phase 1 typically means that they have seen some success in the real lab rats and are ready to try it out on people.  Phase 1 is typically used to determine what dosage a body can handle.  Typically…phase 1 isn’t the phase you “want” to be in.  You want them to have figured out the dosage.  You want to have seen some success in patients.  You want some data.  But with Cholangiocarcinoma…what are the alternatives?

This trial is a bit unique because they will actually be documenting success rates.  Typically they don’t in Phase 1 trials.  They only document dosages.  But it is unique because they have already seen success with this chemo in other cancers…pancreatic, colon, etc.  It is just the first time they are trying it on Cholangiocarcinoma.  And Dr. Shroff seems excited about it.  The trial has had two other patients since it started.  One has seen success.  The other…none.

Travis and Carrie look at it as a fifty-fifty shot of this being effective on him.  If you think about it.

Those are the best odds he has had since this all began!

And yet. As Carrie says…

Through it all…God is good.

There are still some hurdles that have to be overcome…

Kaiser has to approve Travis entering the trial so that insurance covers it.  Dr. Hamrick does not feel it will be a problem but cannot make any commitments either.

While Dr. Shroff, the doctor heading up the trial in Houston, says she cannot think of a reason Travis would not be admitted to the trial, there is still the formality of going through the application process and getting officially approved.  They will hopefully be going to MD Anderson in mid October to start the trial.

They have to wait until mid October because of possibly, the biggest hurdle of all….

After the CT scan results were back, and they discussed them, Travis asked Dr. Hamrick a simple question. 

“If we do nothing how much time do I have?”

At the rate your cancer grows….less than six months. 

I have heard this, read this via text, and written it in this blog dozens of times today.  It still takes my breath away.

For Travis to start this trial he has to FIRST be completely off chemotherapy for one month.  We have seen what this cancer is capable of in a month.  Then…it takes one to two months to find out if this chemotherapy is effective.

Do the math…

And yet…

As Carrie says…

Through it all…God is good.

A Call to Prayer

Travis’ CT scan has been scheduled for 1:40 PM today.

The hope is to provide an explanation as to why the CA19-9 is going up.  Is the tumor growing? Has the cancer spread?  What exactly is going on?

The results are “typically” back within 24 hours.

I don’t need to tell you what to pray for.

I don’t need to tell you how to pray.

You already know.

This is simply…

A call to prayer.


I was walking into Kroger.  Convincing my three year old we didn’t need “the car cart” because we were just running in for one thing.   My phone rang.

“Hey Trav!”

“Hey…you hear the latest CA19-9?”

“What? No!  Did you get it?”

“Yeah.  14,000.”

Silence.  I tried to speak.  But I was….choking.

So Trav spoke.  “14,000………..So. That’s it. It’s definitely going up.  I talked to Hamrick.  I am going to get a CT scan to see if they see anything.  And Hamrick is going to call MD Anderson and talk to them about next steps.”

Silence…I tried to speak…I think I tried to say “I…I…I’m so sorry Trav.” But I was choking.

I took a couple of deep breaths.  I muscled out a question or two here and there.  But never more than a few words.  I couldn’t.  There was something in my throat.

I was choking.

I wandered aimlessly around Kroger as my three year old begged me for a cookie and I tried to think of something…anything….encouraging to say.  But I couldn’t.

I was choking.

Whatever this thing was in my throat that wasn’t allowing me to swallow couldn’t have had worse timing.  I needed to be there for my friends.  I needed to encourage them.  To tell them I was here no matter what.  I needed to say something.  But I just couldn’t.

I was choking.

I tried to clear my throat.  Nothing came up.

Travis talked about the possibility of a medical trial and perhaps this was God’s way of saying it was time to do something different.  He sounded remarkably well. I think I managed to tell him how well he sounded…through my choking. 

All the while my head was racing.  Doing the math.  What percentage of change were we seeing?  How fast? All the while working on getting out of my throat whatever it was that was stuck.  Whatever it was I was choking on.

Trav talked a little longer and then quickly said “Carrie’s callin.  Gotta go.”  I think he might have even said good bye.

I sat in my car for a second.  Still holding the phone to my ear.  And suddenly, the thing that had been stuck in my throat…grew.  I tried my best to swallow it back.  I panicked a little because it was starting to impede my breathing.

I tried choking it back…but it had gotten too big.  I no longer could.  And so with a cough it came out.

The sob.

The sob I had been choking back came forward.

Anguish. Pain. Heartache. Anger. Tears. More tears.

That’s what had been stuck in my throat.  That’s what had been gathering while my friend told me his news.

That’s what I was choking on every time I tried to speak.

I don’t think we ever truly know what it feels like to walk in Carrie’s and Travis’ shoes.  To ever truly understand what it feels like to be them.  To be facing this. To be living…this.  In fact…I don’t think we can relate to what it is like to be their mother.  Father.  Sister.  Brother.  Family. To hear the news.  To face a reality that seems so bleak. We can’t relate.  We can’t understand it.

I have cried my share of tears over this and have fooled myself into thinking that, because of those tears, I understand what they are going through.  But today I realized.

I don’t.

Today. For the first time…I had a glimpse of what it is like to be walking their road.  What it is like when they lay their heads down to sleep.  When Carrie and Travis look at their children.  When their parents, siblings, family…look at them with their children.  Today, for just a moment, I knew what it felt like to live a life where it always feels like…

You’re choking. 

Drama Free

It’s been a while. Over a month. I couldn’t even remember my login to WordPress. I have been meaning to write…but the words wouldn’t come. And I couldn’t figure out why. I couldn’t figure out why, suddenly, I had nothing to say? And then Carrie wrote her sweet, precious post last week and it hit me. Things were back to normal. True. It is a “new” normal but, none the less…”normal”. And I learned something about myself.

I can’t write without drama.

And things have been…well…drama free.

Routine. The Roberts are cooking their own meals. The kids are back in school. Carrie is busy with her role as a stay at home mom/nurse/nutritionist. They go to UGA games. They go to church. For the most part they are living a routine, drama free life. There really hasn’t been much to write about.

And I have to admit…

I like it.

I like it because drama free means my friend is well.

Last night…Carrie and I did our routine. It was Wednesday so that meant Chick Fil A for dinner and then the kids have choir while we just hang out and talk. And we actually talk about things other than…cancer. We picked our kids up after an hour and headed to our cars together.

And then my phone rang.

Our husbands know. If you can’t reach one of us on our own phone try the other’s.

“Hi Trav!”

“Get me Carrie now.”

I have to admit. I have settled into the new norm a little too well. If I had gotten that call two months ago I would have followed up with…”what’s wrong?” or “are you ok?” or “why…what’s going on?” I’m nosey like that. But instead…I gave my friend the you’re-in-trouble-for-something look and handed her the phone and I busied myself with the kids.

I have gotten so used to drama free it took a while to realize…something was wrong.

And just like that…things were no longer drama free.

My friend looked at me and mouthed…

“It went up.”

And my heart sank. Like yours is now. I knew from the look in her eye exactly what she was talking about.

The CA19-9.

And, just like that, the drama was back.

As Carrie walked away talking on the phone to Travis I stood there with all the kids in disbelief. Suddenly two strangers approached me and asked if I was with that lady and was everything ok?

How did they know??

I shook my head and just said, “no…everything is not ok.”

And these kind strangers said “go…be with her…we have the kids…we will go on the playground with them.”

And I did.

I went to my friend and hugged her. I hugged her as she sobbed and as she grieved and I looked in her eyes and saw…anguish.

I later found out that one of these kind women saw Carrie take the call and told her friend “did you see that? did you see her? I don’t know what is going on but that was the look I had when I got the call that my mom died.”

My poor friend. My poor precious friend. The fear. The pain. The uncertainty.

As much as you are feeling it now…imagine how exponentially she is feeling it.

What does this mean?!?!? Why couldn’t life just stay drama free?

At last check Travis’ CA19-9 was 3900. It is now up to 7200.

Dr. Hamrick has told them that, as the number got towards the bottom, it could start bouncing around. Up one week…down the next…up…down…up…down. But when I talked to Trav. When I reminded him of that. With desperation in his voice he just said “That’s not a bounce. A ‘bounce’ is four or five hundred. Something is wrong.”

We have seen God show up over and over and I don’t believe He is done with Trav yet. I believe He is just beginning.

It’s too soon.

So I just pray that Trav is wrong. That it IS a bounce. A lab error. Something. ANYTHING.

Anything but this drama. Because my precious friends deserve more than two months of being….

drama free.

Quick Update

Hi Friends –

I just wanted to let y’all know that we still have not received the CA19-9 marker.  


We normally get it the same day that Trav gets his labs done which was Wednesday this time.  Our chemo nurse told us that the labs were running behind this week so we don’t think that the delay means anything.  Just that we have to wait longer!  

Trav is doing great again after chemo.  He just keeps pushing himself! 

Keep Praying and Cheering for Trav!

Through it all! God is Good!