One Foot Out of the Grave
Local comedian keeps outlook positive
despite fatal brain disease
By Holly Lake, Ottawa Sun
Ken Godmere only has half an hour
before the amusement park closes. Does
he choose his two favourite rides and run to get in line? Or does he sit in the grass with his family and watch others
scramble to get a few final turns on the ferris wheel?
It doesn't really matter. Godmere's
been there all day, the weather has been beautiful and he's worn the right
amount of sunblock. The park might be closing soon, but it doesn't take away
from the wonderful day he's had. The ending of it doesn't kill the day for him.
He's made the most of it.
"That's where I am," says the
man known to his friends as Mr. Metaphor. "The park will be closing in half
an hour."
Godmere doesn't know when the park that
is his life will be closing, but since March he's known it will be much sooner
than he thought. The best estimate is about a year.
He's been diagnosed with
Creutzfeldt-Jakob disease (CJD), a rare, degenerative and fatal brain ailment.
Onset usually occurs later in life, around age 60, with 90% of patients dying
within a year.
Godmere is only 40. His first symptoms
came last summer when he developed problems with executive processes and started
forgetting things. One day, he got lost driving home.
With CJD, diagnosis is not
straightforward. It's a long process of testing and elimination. The Friday
before last Christmas, Godmere's neurologist had narrowed the possibilities down
to a short list of incurables. CJD was on the list, but Godmere doesn't remember
what else was. There was still a chance it could be a tumour. That was the good
news. Because cancer is more identifiable and removable, Godmere says,
"There was still that window of hope."
In the new year, doctors tested his
spinal fluid and by March they were 98% sure they were dealing with CJD.
"Technically, I will be diagnosed
upon autopsy," he says.
These days the well-known local
comedian, director and philanthropist gets tongue-tied at times and often
struggles to retrieve the right word.
"This is so unlike me. I'm usually
a great linguist," he says with a grin. "But nothing is where I put it
in my brain. There's a short-circuit."
He admits his improv skills helped him
hide that something was wrong. Now they help him deal with it.
---
There are several types of CJD,
including sporadic, familial and variant, which is similar to mad cow disease.
Godmere doesn't know what type he has and initially didn't want to know if it
was familial in order to protect his family from the worry. He's since changed
his mind and will have the results of the genetic testing later this month.
The disease affects one in a million
and leads to pronounced mental deterioration, blindness and possibly a coma.
Godmere's was found early, but that won't help him at all.
"It's just a glide, all the way
down," he says.
What's striking about him is the sense
of peace that surrounds him. Godmere isn't mad his life will be cut short.
"The way I look at it, something
causes death every day. But it's not about how you die, it's about how you live.
And I've had more life in the 16 years I've known my wife than most people
seek," he says. "I'll always be satisfied and never be finished. I'm
not one of those people who are never satisfied and always trying to be
finished. I can still do more, but I already have enough."
He's always been one to stop at the
roses, but has never been satisfied to just smell them. He analyzes where they
might look better and if they could use more lighting. Godmere does in one
minute what others do in 10 and suspects he may have always known he'd die
early.
"Maybe that's why I've crammed so
much into everything. Now I have to cram the next 40 years of my life into
one."
And with that comes some sadness.
Earlier this year he went to his 14-year-old daughter's annual father-daughter
dance at school.
"I told her she owed me at least
three dances. One for the dance, one for her graduation and one for her
wedding."
They had far more than three and he
"cried like a baby."
"That's one of the things that's
going to be hardest for me," Godmere says emotionally, as he blows his
daughter Emma a kiss. "But I don't think it will be as hard now because we
got to dance."
His daughter has since told him she,
her nine-year-old brother Andrew, and her mother will be okay when he's gone.
"That was the most wonderful thing
she could say to me because that was my biggest fear," Godmere says.
As a comedian, his sense of humour
remains. And in a weird way, Godmere says he's fortunate to know what time he
has left so he can focus on living it.
"People look at me like I have one
foot in the grave. I don't. I'm not dying yet. I know I will, but I'm not dying
now. I'm not my brain. That's not all there is to me."
True to his Mr. Metaphor nickname, he
says his doctors are like weather forecasters who have predicted a storm. While
it's cloudy, it's not yet raining.
"Do I pick up my picnic now? I
don't want to. I don't want to ruin it for anyone else," he says.
He believes it's interesting that he
has this disease and views knowing what's in store as a rare gift.
"I don't have to fight it. It's
not going to be painful. It's a very simple disease. I get to simplify my life
gently."
There are no treatment decisions to
make because there is no treatment. Godmere won't have to decide if he'll use
his time battling for a few last breaths. This is not a fight.
"It's not false bravery. I just
won't actively be here when I go, so it's easy to laugh," he says.
"I'm not fearing my last breath because I know it will be okay. I truly
know that."
---
On June 20 and 23, friends and
colleagues of Godmere will gather to celebrate his life at Baldapalooza -- a
tribute to his bald head, which has saved him hundreds of dollars in shampoo.
Godmere, who hates for anything to be all about him, says it's not a mopefest or
funeral.
"It's a celebration of Ken, but
Ken likes to celebrate performing arts, gatherings, charities," he says.
Baldapalooza co-founder Debbie Ng says
it's a chance to give back to Godmere and let him know the community appreciates
all he's done through comedy and charity.
Over the years, Godmere's given many
people a stage. He's produced at Second City in Toronto and six years ago opened
his own improv club in Ottawa -- The iNSTiTUTion.
Baldapalooza will establish a legacy
for the club, which may be handed over to a non-profit organization, to allow it
to thrive when he's gone, Ng says.
"He wants to see other people grow
and to get together and showcase their talent. He wants to give them a
stage."
As Godmere puts it: He wants his energy
to keep going without it having to be about him. "It's a fire to
spread."
For more information, visit
www.baldapalooza.com.
holly.lake@ott.sunpub.com