Doug was the love of my life. We started dating when we were 16 and 17 years old and were together 43 years, married for 41 years. We did not only love each other, we genuinely liked one another. It wasn’t the type of relationship where we had to be in the same room all the time, for just knowing one another was there was enough. We were one. We enjoyed spending time together and, even after 43 years, we were still madly in love with one another. He always complimented me and showed me respect; he was just a really good man.
Doug was an honorable man with integrity and a wonderful sense of humor, too. You could consider him our family’s rock. If something was wrong, he always fixed it. He had a personal relationship with God, loving his church as well as his family. Many described him as a gentle giant who was brave and courageous and good with a very big heart. Many held him in high esteem; it’s safe to say that the world was a better place with him in it.
He was on committees at church, served on the city planning commission and several other boards, and was even in Jaycees for a time. He was retired from the military. Doug came from a wonderful family, and I was fortunate enough to get to be a part of his family.
Doug loved the simple things in life, like mowing the lawn and enjoying the sunset. He was an accountant, controller, and at the time of his death, the Chief Financial Officer for a manufacturing company. But he had a great sense of humor, which showed at home and at work. At work he was very well liked, and considered his co-workers his secondary family.
If there was one person who never deserved a cancer diagnosis, it was Doug. He went through so much with his cancer treatments and hospital stays, yet he never complained or showed self-pity. The only thing he regretted was waiting until it was too late to get his colonoscopy. On the day of his colonoscopy, the doctor came out and knelt down where I was sitting. I knew that wasn’t a good sign. It was the day that would change our lives forever. The doctor said, “It’s not good Sandy, it’s about stage III colon cancer right now.
After I cried, I called our children. They all immediately got on their computers and started researching Stage III colon cancer. When they brought Doug out in a wheelchair, as he was still a little groggy, he asked me, “So did they find anything?” I told him we would talk about it more after we got him in the truck. So we sat there and I looked at him, and he at me and he said, “It’s not good is it?” I said, “You do have cancer, not of the colon, but of the rectum. But, we are going to fight this sweetheart, with everything we have.” I took him home and we went to bed so he could rest. As we lay beside one another and held each other, we were both scared to death. Doug had always been my rock and now I had to be his.
All of us, our family and friends, kept hope in our hearts that he might be one of the lucky ones and beat this disease. Unfortunately, that was not to be. He didn’t want to die, but his body wouldn’t allow him to go on living. He hoped for a cure, letting the doctors obtain samples of tissues and such from his body for research. He said if he could be an example and even make one person go and get a colonoscopy to save their life, then what he went through was not in vain. Our close friends all went and got colonoscopies.
To me, “Get Your Rear in Gear” means to literally get your rear to the doctor and get that colonoscopy. If Doug had gotten his colonoscopy sooner, he would have had a much better chance of fighting this disease. Also, Get Your Rear in Gear means going out and making a difference in colon cancer. Get involved with this organization, raise money and make a difference.
Doug is survived by: Sandy Sisson- Wife, Scott Sisson- Son, Matthew Sisson- Son, Nicholas Sisson- Son, Baden Sisson- Grandson, Madison Sisson- Granddaughter, Edgar Sisson- Father, Kent Sisson-Brother, Janet Scherdin- Sister, Ellen Hill- Sister, Marilyn Turner- Sister-in-law, numerous family & friends.