Newlyweds hope for miracle

Omahans Jan Schroeder and Russ Campion needed a miracle or two.

Their November wedding in Estes Park, Colo., clearly wasn't going to happen. Campion's health was fading.

Just Wednesday, Schroeder wrote about Campion's struggle with cancer in an online journal for family and friends:

“Dear God: If you have any miracles up your sleeve, NOW would be the time to unfold them. We are strong enough, have fought hard enough, and are waiting for your answer. Amen.”

By Friday, the two were unsure whether he would live to see Saturday, so they made hasty plans to exchange vows Friday in his hospital room at the Nebraska Medical Center. If he could hold on, they would gather their children, siblings and close friends for a more formal ceremony Saturday.

Then the miracles began.

Friday afternoon, as the 58-year-old bride walked into Westroads Mall, she uttered another prayer. This time it was for a jeweler who could help her quickly find a wedding band for Campion, who is 62. Their quick exchange of vows before a minister was set to begin in about an hour in Campion's hospital room. Schroeder took with her the hospital tape she had wrapped around Campion's finger to obtain a ring size. She took the tape, attached to a card, to Fred Meyer Jewelers and explained how her groom was dying and how she needed the ring in 10 minutes.

The jeweler told her that the size of ring she needed typically has to be specially ordered. The store could have two smaller rings welded together, but it could take up to two hours. An employee offered to deliver the finished ring to the hospital.

Schroeder said she could see the tears in the jeweler's eyes as she went ahead and bought the ring. She said she figured she could give the ring to her husband after the ceremony if they couldn't get it in time.

But the jewelry store employee made it to the hospital in time for the bedside ceremony. With tears in her eyes, too, the worker delivered the ring and a giant cookie, frosted with the words “Love Is Forever.”

By Saturday, relatives from as far away as Colorado and Kentucky arrived with just 24 hours' notice. And Campion somehow rallied for the more formal ceremony, Schroeder said.

Campion, a retired real estate developer, and Schroeder, an eighth-grade literature and study skills teacher at Bryan Middle School, met six years ago. He was diagnosed with appendix cancer in December 2005 and over four years battled through numerous surgeries and three rounds of chemotherapy.

With each success, the couple celebrated. Yet the cancer fought back and spread to his bones, spine and other organs.

But Saturday was no day for defeat. Though he was unable to walk, Campion was wheeled in his bed to the hospital chapel and a reception at the hospital's Storz Pavilion. He was awake, laughing and talking during the entire four-hour reception Saturday, Schroeder said. For the first time in three days, he ate food, including wedding cake.

Schroeder said her new husband said: “I feel really weird. I feel really good.

“I feel like this is not the end.”

The Rev. Martha Freeman officiated at both Friday's legal ceremony and Saturday's bigger celebration with about 20 guests in the hospital's St. Luke Chapel.

She knew of Campion's love of boating, of the 48-foot catamaran he had been building and of plans the couple had to sail around the world. She quoted Robert Frost:

“Two such as you with such a masters speed/ Cannot be parted nor be swept away/ From one another once you are agreed/ That life is only life forevermore/ Together wing to wing and oar to oar.”

The hospital paid for the small wedding reception, complete with flowers, food and cake.

Mr. and Mrs. Campion were still floating Sunday and Monday at the hospital, even as they arranged a flight for Campion to get back to his native Colorado for hospice care and what might be his final days.

The two leave Wednesday morning, she said. Campion was feeling good, his wife said, and she remained amazed at his rebound, no matter how long.

“This could be for one day or one week or one month, this little rally of his. But who knows?

“Miracles happen.”

Contact the writer:

444-1304, news@owh.com