No Stone Unturned: A Brother and Sister’s Incredible Journey Through the Olympics and Cancer

By Jessie Garcia

This is a story of two heroes who climbed different mountains and defined success in two startlingly different ways. It’s the story of a brother who, at one point in time, was the world’s best. And it’s the story of a sister who wouldn’t accept death as an alternative and found a quality of life through spiritual growth and a protocol of nontraditional cures.

In No Stone Unturned, author Jessie Garcia shares the story of Casey FitzRandolph, who won an Olympic gold medal in speedskating in 2002 and his sister, Jessi, who was diagnosed eight years later with stage IV breast cancer. The FitzRandolphs brought glory to the United States in the form of gold, yet left their home country in search of alternative medical treatments.

Heart-wrenching and thought-provoking, No Stone Unturned follows the family through their journey. Told from the perspective of all involved, it offers insight into the heart of a modern American household dealing with two extreme emotions—elation and despair.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu Publishing Services
• Release date: Oct 1, 2015
• ISBN: 9781483435091

Book preview

No Stone Unturned

A Brother and Sister’s Incredible Journey Through the Olympics and Cancer

Jessie Garcia

Copyright © 2015 The FitzRandolph Family Trust.

Cover photos courtesy of C&N Photography. Several of the photos used in the photo spread of our book were taken by C&N Photography and Paskus Photography.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored, or transmitted by any means—whether auditory, graphic, mechanical, or electronic—without written permission of both publisher and author, except in the case of brief excerpts used in critical articles and reviews. Unauthorized reproduction of any part of this work is illegal and is punishable by law.

ISBN: 978-1-4834-3508-4 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4834-3510-7 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-4834-3509-1 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2015911405

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Lulu Publishing Services rev. date: 9/21/2015

Contents

Foreword by Dan Jansen

Foreword by Bonnie Blair

Introduction

Chapter 1   Finding a Lump

Chapter 2   A Boy and a Girl … Perfect!

Chapter 3   The Early Years

Chapter 4   On the Ice

Chapter 5   Jessi’s Change of Heart

Chapter 6   The Smell of Success

Chapter 7   Gooold!

Chapter 8   Conventional Wisdom be Damned

Chapter 9   The German Connection

Chapter 10   aHUS

FitzRandolph Family Photo Essay

Chapter 11   Mexico

Chapter 12   Battles Won and Lost

Chapter 13   A Turn for the Better

Chapter 14   Cannabis Oil

Chapter 15   Perfecting the Alternative Protocol

Chapter 16   Life after Gold

Chapter 17   A Summer of Hope

Chapter 18   Ups and Downs

Chapter 19   Heartbreak

Chapter 20   Seeking a New Normal

Epilogue

Afterword

In memory of our beautiful Jessi

Playful Heart

Radiant Smile

Undying Spirit

May 21, 1977–March 19, 2014

Jeff, Ruthie, and Casey,

If you are working on the epigraph you must be nearing the finish of your book. Wow, what a great accomplishment! What a beautiful tribute to Jessi and your journey with her. I thought about Bible verses for a while, and some that seemed appropriate I’ve shared with you below.

You and your family are in my thoughts and prayers.

Blessings,

Matt

Pastor

Blackhawk Church, Middleton, Wisconsin

1 Corinthians 13:7 "Love always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres."

Proverbs 3:3 "Let love and faithfulness never leave you; bind them around your Neck, write them on the tablet of your heart."

Ecclesiastes 3:1–6 "There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens …

a time to weep and a time to laugh, a time to mourn and a time to dance …

a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them …

a time to search and a time to give up."

Foreword by Dan Jansen

T he most important and influential thing for me in my life has always been my family. I grew up the youngest of nine children and learned everything from my parents, three brothers, and five sisters. As I started to show promise in the sport of speedskating it was with their support that I finally achieved my ultimate goal of winning an Olympic gold medal.

Family values are nothing new to anyone who grew up in the Midwest and certainly nothing new to the people who were, for some reason, attracted to our sport. The Heidens, Blairs, Jansens, FitzRandolphs, and many more turned speedskating meets into family outings on cold winter weekends in Wisconsin and throughout the Midwest.

Due to the relatively small number of athletes that choose this sport, the families that were involved became, in a sense, a bigger family. My family knew the Blair family before Bonnie and I were even born. Speedskating becomes a fraternity of sorts, and very close relationships are formed early in life that still remain today.

These close bonds among the athletes and families in our sport carry on from generation to generation because everyone has an understanding of what their counterparts have sacrificed and been through to get to whatever level they have achieved, whether that be a state champion or an Olympic champion.

When I reached an elite level, I always felt it was important to offer help, advice, or assistance of any kind to the younger skaters, and I certainly always took note of the up-and-coming skaters who looked like they had a lot of potential. Somewhere around the late 1980s, I noticed one of those kids. His name was Casey FitzRandolph, and he was from my home state of Wisconsin. By the time I retired after the 1994 season, Casey had developed into someone that I knew would be the next great sprinter in a long line of world-class sprinters from the United States.

It was fun to watch him improve technically and get stronger with each passing year, and it was an absolute thrill to see him win gold in Salt Lake City in 2002. It was truly another family victory, both for the FitzRandolphs and the American speedskating family.

Fast forward eight years, and I learned that Casey’s sister, Jessi, was in a fight against breast cancer. As painful as this news was, I knew one thing: The Fitz family would be there with Jessi each and every step of the way, no matter how difficult or painful those steps would be. I knew this because I knew their family, and because it’s what families do—not just speedskating families but all families—and I knew theirs was strong.

In 1987 while we were competing in Germany, Bonnie Blair received a call telling her that her brother, Rob, was diagnosed with a brain tumor. I remember the uncertainty and questions we all had and our concern for Rob and for Bonnie as well. Just a few short months later, Bonnie was by my side when we heard that my sister, Jane, had been diagnosed with leukemia. After battles of different lengths, both of our siblings succumbed to their respective diseases after putting up good fights and leaving our families with everlasting memories of their strength, perseverance, and undying spirits.

I know that Jessi’s fight has inspired her family as well, and I’m glad they decided to write this book. It shows that there is no one way to fight cancer, and it also confirms that the most important weapon in that fight is the love and support of a strong family.

Jessi’s mother, Ruthie, says in the book that she will catch up to Jessi one day. I, for one, believe that is true. This belief helps to bring a little peace to the things that we may never fully understand.

—Dan Jansen,

four-time Olympian,

1994 men’s 1,000-meter gold medalist

Foreword by Bonnie Blair

C asey FitzRandolph, known as Fitz, was coming into our international speedskating world as DJ and I were finishing our careers. However, I got to travel for one year with Fitz before I retired. Dave Cruikshank, who would become my husband, was still skating after I retired, and Casey and Dave went to Nagano (home of the 1998 Olympics) and roomed together quite a bit. When that happened, our close family of speedskaters and supporters grew. Mr. and Mrs. Fitz traveled to some competitions, where I got to know them. I didn’t know Jessi as well, but I was aware she had been an awesome skater in her younger years before deciding to take another path in life. I also heard she was quite a soccer player. My best memories of Ruthie and Jessi were at Christmastime, when they would bring Dave and me their famous sugar cookies with icing and Christmas cutouts. To this day, my kids and I use their recipe, but I still think theirs were better.

The thing I have learned from sports is how to fight: fight through workouts, fight through races, have a goal, and do all that needs to be done to accomplish a goal. DJ’s sister, who also skated, fought like crazy during her leukemia battle, as did my siblings (skaters as well), my brother Rob, who battled a brain tumor for over twenty years, and my sister Mary, who also battled leukemia. I know the three of them had that extra gear to fight, just like Jessi did in her battle, as you will see when you read this book.

As I have gotten older, I have come to know that families from all walks of life have their highs and lows. The FitzRandolphs and author Jessie Garcia take you through one family’s ups and downs. I have lived through my own family’s ups and downs. I know not everyone has had gold-medal highs, but I am sure we can all think of highs in our life that stand out. We might not have gone through the exact same things, but life can be a roller coaster. Jessie Garcia does a wonderful job of taking us on a ride with the FitzRandolphs. As I know from my own family, the highs are what they are, but the lows are the ones you seem to second-guess. You always wonder what if—what if we had done this or that, or acted sooner? Hindsight is 20-20. But the mind is a powerful tool, as I have also grown to know, and my guess is that Jessi’s mind was stronger than most.

Ruthie and Jeff provided their kids with opportunities to follow their hearts, Casey by chasing his gold medal and Jessi by finding her way, which might have been a bit of a zigzag. Ruthie and Jeff were always there for both of them, maybe sometimes too much! However, what I take from their story is the never-ending love they had for both of their kids and how they would do anything for them. They might feel that hindsight would have changed things, but they really did pull out all the stops and do whatever they could for Jessi to have a longer life, probably with less pain than had she taken the conventional route of treatment for her entire bout of cancer. And with that, they should be proud of what they did in helping Fitz chase his gold and Jessi chase another day, week, month, and year. They gave their kids the tools to fight, have goals, set them, and reset them for every avenue in life, and that is a wonderful gift. For that, Mr. and Mrs. Fitz should always be proud.

—Bonnie Blair,

four-time Olympian,

five gold medals, one bronze

Introduction

I n some ways, I’m not perfectly clear why I’m writing an introduction for a book about our family’s amazing story. I guess I believe the events that define our lives are worth sharing, and I hope that someone might actually buy our book, read it, and possibly try some of the things we did to enhance our children’s lives. If you do, I’m pretty sure they will work for you if you stick with them. Remember: persistence is a virtue. This is one motto our family abides by.

The events we are about to share, with the help of author Jessie Garcia, have taken place over a span of nearly forty years. My wife, Ruthie’s, and my memories of this period are still incredibly vivid. It’s as though they have been etched in stone and then splashed with a light source that seems to set still pictures and thoughts into a whirling dervish of motion. It’s like having a motion picture in the back of your head that replays all the good times from the childhoods of our son, Casey, and daughter, Jessi. We recall so much motion and so many thoughts. We had so many dreams, some squashed but most realized. And more are still playing out today before our eyes.

This is definitely a labor and story of love. It’s about two children who took divergent paths to adulthood, with results that at first may seem totally unfair. But as our story unfolds in these pages, I believe you will learn about a brother and sister’s love for each other. You will learn about our efforts to mold them into model young adults and why that doesn’t always work. You will read of our soul searching, feel our frustration, share our successes, big and small, and ultimately join us in the realization of two very different dreams: one a single success that changed a life and the other journey with many ups and downs that ultimately had a disappointing ending.

This is a story of two heroes who climbed very different mountains and defined success in two startlingly different ways. It is the story of a brother who can say that at one point in time, he was the best in the world. And it is the story of a sister who can say she wouldn’t accept death as an alternative and who consequently found a quality of life through spiritual growth and a protocol of cures that our traditional medical profession does not share with cancer patients. She wasn’t able to beat the demonic cancer, but her last three years were full of serenity, wisdom, and ultimately a spiritual strength that she carried with her beyond this life.

I can’t promise you’ll enjoy every chapter of this book. Some of our stories are not necessarily the most pleasant. But we will try to help you find your own path to dealing with your family’s challenges, or at least developing some thoughts on ways you can get your family through the tough times and to the good times.

Our lives have been full of unique family experiences and the tight bond that can be forged by spending so much time together as a family unit. We have laughed and we have cried, but mostly we have been blessed with a mega-dose of good fortune during our lifetimes. This is not because we deserved it or because we were deeply spiritual people (although a little humility and spirituality are definitely a virtue) but instead because we never took no for an answer. Throw an obstacle in Ruthie’s way and she’ll crush it—if she doesn’t research it to death first. Try to make me believe that something cannot be accomplished and I’ll go to my grave finding a way to get it done. I believe, as much as anything, that it was this simple little premise that brought us our good fortunes: believe and you can achieve. We instilled this value in our children from the day they were born and have seen how it positively impacted their lives. We’ll share anecdotes and stories of how we believed—and how we as a family ended up achieving.

You’ll read about Casey’s successes starting at age five and continuing, albeit with several speed bumps, until he won a gold medal in the 500-meter speedskating sprint in the 2002 Winter Olympics in Salt Lake City. You’ll read about the challenges Jessi faced, from trying to establish her own identity to discovering she had breast cancer and not accepting her doctor’s death sentence. Her last three years, after her doctors handed her the verdict, are a testimony to her perseverance, fight, and willingness to look to other protocols that would strengthen her body instead of poisoning it. By believing that alternative cures could do for her what the conventional wisdom of surgery, chemotherapy, and radiation could not, Jessi lived and thrived for three years after she was told she only had a few weeks or months to live.

Our story contains wonderful family times together: laughing, crying, praying, cheering, consoling, teaching, grieving, and sharing our two children’s very different paths to success in their lifetimes. To say we’ve left no stone unturned would be an understatement.

—Jeff

CHAPTER 1

Finding a Lump

Summer 2010

I t was a week at the cabin, a place so serene they called it their slice of heaven. A log cabin laid one beam at a time, just nine hundred square feet with a great room, two bedrooms, a bath, and a tiny kitchen. It was nestled in the northern Wisconsin woods, straddling a lake with a funny name—Big Sissabagama, a word from the Chippewa Indians meaning lake of many bays.

The FitzRandolphs were feeling calm and happy, and why not? Times were good. Their son, Casey, was eight years removed from one of the greatest achievements any mortal being can accomplish: an Olympic gold medal, won in speedskating in front of a wildly cheering American crowd in Salt Lake City in 2002. Truth be told, they weren’t sure that glow would ever wear off. It was something they had fantasized about since both of their kids first put on skates. They had waited twenty-two years to see it and now hoped the ecstasy would last at least that long. Jeff and Ruthie had spent countless hours in ice rinks, driving ninety miles from their house near Madison, Wisconsin, to Milwaukee in order to be on the best oval in the state. They’d spent their kids’ early years lacing up skates, serving meals, helping with homework in the car, cheering, and later volunteering to start races as the children grew. To see your own flesh and blood win Olympic gold, being the absolute best on the planet? The emotional high of that day might never go away.

Casey was married to a wonderful woman, Jenn, a first-grade teacher who fit into the family as if she had been molded for the part. The couple had two young children, a boy and a girl, both blond and feisty. Casey had started a new career in business insurance with M3, a well-respected Madison business, bought a house, and even purchased two farms he was turning into nature preserves and managing for quality wildlife habitat. He seemed to be settled in.

Jeff and Ruthie’s daughter, Jessi, was also finding a rhythm to her life after a few rough years of trying to navigate her way. There were years when she probably drank a little too much, partied a bit too hard, and had a brush or two with the law. She had also been a speedskater, making her first national team at age thirteen. Many had called her the next Bonnie Blair, but she quit just a short time later. She hit some rebellious times. But now Jessi was thirty-three, dating, and embarking on a career as a graphic designer that excited her.

The kids were doing well, and Jeff and Ruthie were in what they would later call the peaceful years. It was the Fourth of July, and the weather at the cabin was pristine.

Life is different at the lake, remembered Jeff. Yeah, the dogs still got up at five thirty in the morning and wanted to go outside to piddle and then be fed, but after that, all options were available. Some mornings I’d look out over the lake and decide it looked like a good morning to fish. Maybe there was a slight overcast, some chop on the water, and it looked like a good walleye morning. But most mornings, I’d simply feed the dogs and fall right back into bed, knowing that I had nothing more important to worry about that day.

Most people don’t stir much before eight in the north woods, and then it would be to put the coffee pot on, grab a quick shower, and have a cup of morning Joe on the front porch, as Jeff always did. He would peruse whatever Stephen King novel he was engrossed in, pausing every once in a while to glance up and watch the ducks swim by the sandy beach, standing on their heads as they dipped underwater to grab little water bugs. A loon might let out its mournful call, and occasionally a boat holding a couple of fishermen skimmed across the lake while they looked for their next hot spot. Ruthie would generally roll out of bed around nine and repeat Jeff’s routine herself. Sleeping in was one of her highest priorities at the lake; the slow pace there was a welcome reprieve from her hectic schedule in Madison. That week in particular felt perfect.

We decided to stay a couple of extra days, reflected Ruthie. Everything was fine at home. Jessi was at our house with her dog, Kirby, watering the plants for us and feeding the fish in our saltwater aquarium.

Ruthie called Jessi to tell her they would be extending their week just a bit, and they went back to what Jeff called just chill time, looking across Big Siss and reliving their son’s Olympic moment over and over in their heads.

After the gold medal, I became the most contented, fulfilled, satisfied person in the world, Jeff reminisced. Quiet times like these, relaxing moments that required nothing but stillness, were about to come to an end.

Jessi FitzRandolph was lying in her boyfriend’s bed when she first felt the lump. She was dating a man named Jack, a divorced dad of two who owned his own house. She hadn’t found the guy yet, and it was too early in the process to even guess if Jack was someone she could date seriously. Plus, she knew he wasn’t looking to jump into anything right after his divorce, and she herself had just finished a long-term relationship that had ended badly. Jessi and Jack were just having fun together.

That night, as they were laughing and joking like lovers do after being intimate, her hand touched her left breast. There was something there, a lump of some kind, and it was not small. Like the size of a quarter, she thought.

She didn’t mention it to Jack. Jessi was a calm person, but she also knew instinctively, somewhere in her gut, that something wasn’t exactly right. Although she tried to put the lump out of her mind and continue relaxing with Jack, a little voice said uh-oh, and an internal warning told her she had better have it checked out if it didn’t go away.

The next day, she explored the breast again, hoping that the lump might have disappeared. It was still there. The day after that, it still hadn’t gone anywhere, and she called her doctor. When he did a closer exam on the table, he told her, We’d better have it looked at, but it’s possible that it’s nothing.

Her parents were at the cabin. She stopped herself from calling them, her first thought being that she didn’t want to freak them out. She knew a call would send them scurrying right home, and Jessi didn’t like to be fussed over. Plus, she was trying to protect her mom and dad from the fear she knew they would have. She didn’t want them worrying for the entire four-and-a-half-hour drive back to Madison.

There was nothing they, or anyone, could do until they knew the results of the tests, anyway. So she confided only in her best friend, Libby, and entered the clinical world of mammograms, MRIs, and biopsies, all in the next few days. Then she waited, the first hints of fear starting to creep in.

She tried to reason with herself. She was in her early thirties. What could be so bad? Maybe it was benign. But again, her gut told her otherwise.

I kind of knew what was coming. I just had a feeling.

Jessi had recently moved back into her parents’ home after breaking up with the man she’d dated prior to Jack. She was alone at their house in the morning with her dog, Kirby, the plants, and the fish when the phone rang. It was the nurse. We got the results … and they came back positive.

Those words are like a bowling ball crashing into the pins you thought were upright in your life. The nurse said the surgeon would be calling later to discuss things. Jessi was rattled but didn’t cry. In fact, she was optimistic. Many women had overcome breast cancer. Why not her? She had been raised to believe that she could do or be anything. There were no barriers. She knew hard work paid off; she had seen it with her own eyes—her brother winning a gold medal and another Madison native, Eric Heiden, winning five. Life was supposed to bring you good things, and if it didn’t, you made changes until it did. That was a basic right. She lived in a time when women could do anything; she lived in a country with the best medical care in the world. This lump in her breast would simply be a bump in the road.

Initially, I felt it wouldn’t be that bad; it would suck for a while, but I would get through it, and I would be okay, said Jessi. It kind of goes back to how I try not to overthink things. Life goes on.

She decided to take a shower and wound up missing the call from the surgeon as the water splashed down around her. When she stepped from the steamy bathroom and called back, the surgeon was busy. Phone tag was not what she needed, so Jessi contacted Libby and tried to convince her to go to the new Twilight movie. Libby instead persuaded her best buddy that they would be better served staying by a phone. They went to lunch at a place known for buffalo wings, where they talked and waited. The cell phone never rang. The surgeon didn’t call back that afternoon, but Jessi was going to meet with her in a day or two, so she figured she would just wait and talk to her then.

Her parents were still away and unaware of what she was going through, and Jessie decided not to mention it when her mom called to let her know they were planning to extend their stay. That night, Jessi needed an escape. She and Libby invited some people over and threw a party.

I drank a bit. It was probably my way of coping with it. I didn’t want it to consume everything. I just wanted to do my normal things.

Her biggest fear at the time was still the reaction of her parents.

Jeff and Ruthie pulled into the garage in the late afternoon. Their home was tucked into a wooded ridge on the Johnstown Moraine, which marked the maximum edge of the Green Bay lobe of the glacier’s push into southern Wisconsin. The Ice Age Trail winds through the back edge of their property, which is located four miles east of the city of Verona. The landscape’s uneven terrain parallels the rises and falls of their lives.

The couple unpacked the car and took the bags into the house. It had been built in the 1990s to suit their family’s lifestyle and had a strategically planned view of Blue Mounds State Park some twenty-three miles to the west.

Jessi was waiting for them in the kitchen.

Hi. I have something to tell you.

Immediately the mom alarm bell sounded.

I’m like, whoa, this is a first, said Ruthie, knowing that her daughter, as wonderful as she was, rarely opened up to them in that way. I knew there was a big problem.

But dad’s mind was exploring more basic, everyday hiccups.

I had just seen her car in the garage, and it had no visible dents or dings, so I figured she hadn’t cracked the car up. I really had no idea.

I’m not in trouble, Jessi reassured her parents, knowing that they might suspect that. Can we all sit down?

They found their way to the brightly colored stools surrounding the kitchenette table, and Jessi took a deep breath.

I have breast cancer.

How do you react when your child springs this on you? Ruthie, a registered nurse, felt the world shifting under her feet. "I felt like I was going to pass out, like my head was spinning a little bit. I physically felt like I was going to pass out. I couldn’t