Right or wrong I do not know, anyway i will start a gathering to Knut's closest family I start this gathering with donating the Hardy Perfect 4.0 as Robert Ågren donated when we raised money to Knut a couple of years ago.
Bidding via announcements on the homepage or on blogge, the bidding will be closed 2014-06-11 at 1200.
You can also donate money through Pay Pal link provided here on this page to the right.

2014-05-29

Min aller aller beste venn og tvillingbror, Knut, fikk endelig fri fra alt det vonde, og døde i natt.

Etter en ulidelig kamp for å bli frisk i over 14 år, med utallige operasjoner, cellegiftkurer og et mat og treningsregime uten sidestykke, sovnet han i natt inn hjemme hos mamma på Å.

Jeg vil takke alle dere som har støttet Knut og meg i alle disse årene og dere skal vite at det har betydd enormt mye for oss alle, og aller mest for broren min.

Når Knut nå endelig fikk slippe mer vondt, synes jeg han valgte en fin dag, Kristi himmelfartsdag, og jeg håper han blir tatt godt i mot, der han nå befinner seg.

Det vil bli en merkelig og vanskelig laksesesong i år og framover, men jeg vil tenke på deg Knut, ved hvert eneste fluekast og ellers hva jeg skal gjøre, hver eneste dag resten av mitt liv.
Tusen takk Knut, for at jeg fikk være din aller beste venn og tvillingbror.

Så glad i deg, kjære Knut!

Trond

Anglers of the World Unite to help Knut & Trond

Sitting in the room until Knut and am shocked at how bad this is. Makes so painful to see how hurt he must have it, but yet there is hope, and that is what Knut clings to...... Knut urged me to thank all of you who are with him and help in the fight against the disease .... I thank you too, thank you everyone!

Trond Syrstad

There is still a hope for Knut, so I urge all of you out there to help

Knut Syrstad is a truly inspirational speycasting figure who has endured a long fight against testicular cancer. Knut is a gifted speycaster and fly fisher, but much more importantly, he's a father, a son, a husband and a brother that desperately needs our help to raise funds for life-saving medical treatment. I'd like to support his appeal by offering an Ultraspey Shooting Head System for auction to the angling community. Please support a man that has contributed so much to our sport. Thank you in anticipation Eoin Fairgrieve.

Feel that I can not sit and watch, I have to do something to help Knut and his family.
If only to raise the spirits and compassion for a period or if together we can help him back completely? (I hope and believe that together we can all give Knot one last chance).
I have received a tremendous amount of help from my friend Ken Reid in this work, and from Eivind Saether at Dagbladet. No. and photographer Mette Randem.

 

Thomas Thore

Sweden

The world knows about the legendary pioneering spirit of the Viking, and two identical brothers Knut and Trond Syrstad embody these characteristics. They have a unique and powerful bond between them that has seen them achieve so many great things during their lives. They ironically have battled Testicular Cancer; Trond was perhaps fortunate that his treatment has been successful and he is in remission. Alas for Knut, the hoped for cure has not materialised for him yet, and he has battled with his indomitable spirit through a number of deadly encounters with the spread of metastases through his body. He has endured numerous hazardous surgeries and countless treatments of body wrecking chemotherapy. What he has been through would have finished any normal mortal man; but not Knut as he truly is no ordinary man. He embodies the true Viking spirit and is not ready for Valhalla as he battles stoically with humour, dignity and compassion for his wife, children, family and dear friends.

Knut has the opportunity to try new pioneering medicine and needs further surgery to provide a lung transplant. This will give him the chance to live significantly longer and fulfil his dreams to see his children grow up and his LTS tackle company receive the recognition it rightly deserves. For many people to have a dream to pursue, this is enough to provide a direction in life. Knut has that dream, but needs to remove the deadly shackles of cancer that have hung remorselessly to him for the last dozen years. Having watched my dear wife die from cancer after a long protracted battle where I nursed her for two years, I have complete admiration for the Syrstad family and their fight to give Knut every opportunity to pursue his dreams. I would humbly ask that if you can make a donation of support, you are helping in no small way a giant of a man, who in this time of need, deserves and is truly worthy of our support. The human race needs true champions and iconic figures. Knut Syrstad is respected and loved the world over as an embodiment of all that is good in humanity. Please support this worthy cause.

Ken Reid
Fisheries Development Office
River Dee
Scotland

HE WATCHES HIMSELF IN THE MIRROR, the sunken eyes, the cheekbones that have become apparent, the hairless head. He looks like his father, like a sick old man. Then he remembers a family dinner many years ago, a few weeks before his dad died: Just before they were to go home dad went out there on the parking lot and stood by himself overlooking the valley underneath. He was just staring, saying nothing, but for some reason Knut can´t forget that moment.

TOMORROW THERE WILL be a bus waiting for him. He doesn´t want to die. Don't want nothing to do with that darkness or light or whatever it is. Death is a nauseating suspense, a big, disturbing nothing. He wants nothing to do with it. The thought fills him with dread. Those who say they are not afraid to die, they can't have been here, in his situation, they haven't felt this.

KNUT SYRSTAD IS 39 YEARS OLD. He has two children, Elisabeth and Tor Håkon, and he is the stepfather to his wife Elisabeth's daughter. Along with his twin brother, Trond, he runs a successful fly fishing company.
Now he is sitiing in his car, black hat on his head, watching the wooden houses and picket fences passing outside his window. It is ten years since Knut was diagnosed with testicular cancer. They said he was going to get better, but it did not happen, it spread to the abdomen, lungs, always something new. Five times they have said that he is healthy, five surgeries, countless rounds of chemotherapy, and then they stitch him back together from the navel to the throat. Last winter, the doctors said that his body would never endure more chemotherapy, he underwent surgery in January and they said the cancer was gone. But then the hospitals number was blinking on the phone again a few weeks later. Since then his body has disappeared slowly, he looses a kilo or two a week, the fever rages. It's as if life itself is looking for a way out of him. Now they are making a last attempt with chemotherapy.

And here, in his car in his hometown, the small Norwegian town of Orkanger, Knut is wondering wether to feel lucky because he's still alive after all those rounds of treatment, or unlucky to have ended up in all of this.
"Maybe I've been lucky," he concludes.

 

"Maybe I've been lucky," he asks himself.

TODAY IS THE DAY BEFORE THE LAST treatment starts. The key is in the ignition. The car is in a parking lot. Knut sits and looks at the entrance to the fitness center on a large, gray building.
- I fear that this will be my last training session. I hope there will be more, but it's not clear, as they say. Worst case scenario: I die on Tuesday.
It looks as if he can´t decide wther he should go in or not.
- I want to go in there and just feel the barbell in my hands, he says quietly.
His lips are dry and cracked with thin red scabs. He hasn´t eaten today, wanted to avoid throwing up when a journalist was visiting, figured he might as well get some training done. At least that´s what he thought before he parked his care here at this empty parking lot on a very quiet sunday.
He has been here a thousand times before, built his body full of muscles, but now there's just residue left under the hoodie, he weighs half of what he used to.
- I haven't told my children that I might not come back this time. I talked to them yesterday and said it is a very big challenge Dad is going through now, but that we'll meet again. I don't want to scare them.
There is no one walking in or out of the sliding doors at the gym. His fingers are drumming gently on the stearing wheel.
- Everything acquirs meaning when you realize that it's probably the last time you'll see or do something.

 

MAYBE THIS STORY BEGINS somewhere else? The tone of his mother's voice on the phone and Knut and his brother Trond sitting there in the car on the way home 15 years ago. One and a half hours to drive from teaching school in Trondheim, and they don't speak a single word.

"You have to get here before it's too late," she said, and in the background he heard his father screaming of pain. That's why they sit quietly while the trees shoot past the light from the headlights, because there realy are no words to utter when your father is lying there in a bed on the other side of a phone line and he is dying. Pancreatic cancer, incurable, doctors said three months ago, and when they park and step over the threshold to the bedroom, Knut sees him lying there, throwing his body from side to side.
And he's screaming, his father screaming. The strong father, he who had never complained about anything in life, is emaciated and green-skinned and he is screaming in pain. Knut goes out again to the car. "Christ, what a disease," he thinks, and hurries off to the doctor's office to get some morphine pills. The gravel splashes from the car and Knut is telling himself that he won't stop for anything, not the police, nothing. The road becomes a grey liquid inder the headlights, he is speeding, but he knows theese roads, every turn, every little bump in the road. He gets the pills, runs back into the car and rushes home. "Thank you" his father mumbles. "Poor dad", Knut whispers.
Two days later. They are all there by his bed. His breath rattling. "How did he suddenly get so old?" Hisbody is fighting desperately all the way to the end. And then it happens. The final breath. His lungs filling with air, his body stretching out and then he let's go. He let's go.

 

IN A BASKET in the hallway at Knut's house kid shoes are piling. Knut has lit candles, brushed the crumbs off the table and sat down on the white leather couch. There's a telescope on the parquet over by the piano.
- I dread going completely insane, I´ve never felt so little in control. When I get on the bus tomorrow and know I have started a new round of treatment, I'm not going to be very confident, Knut says.
There is only a few months since the last operation, since he decided to dare to live again, dare to take it for granted. Ten years of hopes and counter messages with tumor markers, values, abbreviations, all these numbers and statistics that tell you whether you´ll live or not.
- When I think of all I've been through, and the fact that this time I will be submitted to event stronger treatment... I mean... It's not a death sentence, but it's as close as you get. Before, I always had the hope that I could recover completely, but this time the doctors say that they probably will not be able to remove the cancer completely, they must operate regardless after chemo. That´s the worst part. At least I always had hope before. But now... I just have to get through the first night after the treatment, and hopefully I'll be able to do three more rounds.
On the porch behind him a punching bag is hanging from the roof.
- I have a very strained relationship with the possibility of dying. It has been a hot topic for many years. What I am least afraid of is the pain, but I'm terrified of dying. I can't sleep. It used to make me angry, furious. But now... Now I´m just terrified, Knut says.
Outside it is raining, but in here all is quiet.
- People say every one dies, that it's just a natural part of life. But I've been fighting it for so many years and it's unbearable.

 

HIS TWIN BROTHER comes in. He sits down next to Knut, and it is strange to see them like this, the identical twins: Trond being a constant reminder of what Knut would have looked like if he was healthy.
- He was much bigger than me before he became ill, Trond says looking at his brother. Knut smiles.
The two of them have always been close. They took their first steps together, got their first teeth at the same time, protected eachother whenever one of them would get in a fight and they still finish eachothers sentences When they grew up both studied to become teachers, and both of them quit their jobs and started a fly fishing business together.
- As twins we understand more than we need to say to eachother, Knut says.
They have fought the cancer together too. When Knut was diagnosed with cancer, he insisted Trond be tested too. Despite the fact that he is not particularly fond of hospitals, Trond finally succumbed. Test results showed he had the same type of cancer. In his case the doctors stopped it from spreading. On the couch they look like two different versions of the same man.
- After the last operation, there have been many hard days. My brother can be moody and useless. I don't know how to make him happy anymore, not like i used to, Trond says.
- Had the situation been reversed, if Trond had had the disease I have, I wouldn't have coped at all. It would have been horrible. I feel very sorry for him, Knut says.
-Well you try your best, Trond says laughing.
He stares out the window.
-It has been hell to be part of all this. Absolutely fucking awful.
Trond is struggling, staring at the table in front of him. Usually, he is the confident one, the one who knows what to say in front of people.
- For me it would be terrible to loose my identical twin brother. It would be.. Well, this question should you probably answer, Knut says to Trond.
- But if you were gone, I would be.. I would feel completely naked.
Trond swallows and nods. They look at eacother. The love between brothers is a love without words and letters, it´s in their flickering eyes, their common discomfort in talking about it. Maybe it´s to big for words, maybe noone should ever talk about it. It is there regardless, in the silence between them.

 

A FEW YEARS AGO there was a letter from the fertility clinic hanging on the fridge. The air was full of anticipation. He met Elizabeth in a bar, just the sight of her made his heart race. According to their parents they got married too quickly. Knut had two children from previous relationships, she had one, and now they had decided to get one more. The whole apartment was seething with happiness, as if this child had already changed their lives. Every time he opened the refrigerator, the letter was there with promises of a happy future, of life and laughter. Knut loved the feeling, the absence of disease.
But everything has its end. On the display the hospitals number is flashing. "Tumor markers have started to move again," said the voice. His hands were shaking. He tried to sound calm. "It's not the first time the world collapses, it won´t be the last".
When he hung up, he was gasping for breath, and he sobbed, like a child. That evening they removed the letter on the fridge.

 

TROND HAS TO GO, he has a meeting tomorrow. Knut is looking at the door he closed behind him.
- It's hard for him to talk about this, I see it in him. When we´re out driving, we´ll talk about anything but my illness. But now he is forced to confont himself and he´s uncomfortable. He´s just giving you standard phrases, but I wouldn´t be much use either if I was in his situation.

When Knut got married for the second time, Trond said in his speech that he always expected the next time they would be in a church together would be at Knuts funeral. Then he broke down crying.
- I know he has his limits. This situation, it is almost unbearable for him.

 

07.45 AM. THE MORNING AFTER. Knut is standing in the living room, staring blank ahead out the window. Soon he´ll be on the bus stop down the street, sonn he will be sitting there again, looking at his own reflection in the window as the pass through the tunnels into town. He hasn´t eaten at all, took a pill for the headache. Today it starts again.

The hospital is new and sterile. White tables, white coats, white curtains, white food trays downstairs in the cafeteria. And all these people coming in and out the sliding doors. Knut is rolled from the operating room, they´ve installed a tube directly into his chest. An open door for the chemo. He is klinging to the bed with an uneasy expression on his face. He knows what´s coming, no stopping it now. Just the sight of white coats can make him throw up, there are certain songs he still can´t listen to without gagging. Small, painful reminders.

- In the beginning when I was suffering from cancer, I was 29 and I was mentally stronger. Now I can´t sleep, it´s wearing me out. The strain of it becomes so huge that in the end I just give up, I just want it to end. Not a minute goes by without thinking "Is this it? Will I die now?"
The hospital bed is a giant hand, holding him thight.

 

THERE IS AN ALIEN IN THE ROOM, silent, motionless and unwelcome. The machine that will pump the chemo into his body tomorrow morning, is already there by his bed. It´s a two meter high metal rod with five wheels on the bottom. In the middle of it there is something that looks like a calculator, a colorful box with simple buttons and a small screen. Knut is exhausted and uncomfortable. He is trying to avoid looking at the machine.
- It's amazing how scared one gets in this bed. I am helpless, says Knut with one arm lying across his eyes.
- And I don´t care for that thing, he says, pointing in the direction of the machine.

On the wall a clock is ticking as if every little second wants a word. The machine by his bed is allready plugged in. "Now it´s just a matter of waiting", Knut says, "just waiting". Tomorrow nothing will stop the chemo from entering his body, from breaking it from the inside. The tubes will lead the fluid right into his heart. Bag after bag, unstoppable. The machine will have this mechanical hum to it and a slow gurgle everytime it pushes the fluid into his body.
He knows exactly what's coming, he knows that he and the machine by the bed is inevitably linked. And he really doesn´t want to think about it. But still, it´s all he can think about.
- Try to eat a little, says the nurse that just came into his room with a tray of salmon and a bottle of coke.
- Are you going to be here tomorrow, Knut asks.
- I will, she replies.
- Good. That´s good.

THERE IS THIS CHILDHOOD MEMORY. He´s at clearing in the woods, he´s five or six. He remember the confident steps of his father, the sound of the boots as he stepped over the pine needles on the ground, the smell of it. The warm earth. This was when happiness could be defined as finding the perfect tree to chop down. His father loved these walks. He bought two axes for his sons. Carved "K" and "T" into the shafts. Knut remember looking at his fathers boots, trying to keep the pace in the forest.Insects and spider webs. Sweat. He didn´t know it then but this is going to be the most beautiful memory he´ll ever have. This is going to be his definiton of happiness.
And now, lying in his hospital bed, he can talk about chemo and predictions and death, and he can to it all with a certain control. But when he mentions the forest trips with his father, his voice is cracking up.

 

A WEEK BEFORE the chemo. The national championships in fly fishing in Oslo. Knut, Trond and three of their kids have driven all night to reach the competition. Knut is absolutely determined to participate in spite of fever and nausea.
- I don´t have the strenght that I am used to, so I have to focus on technique instead. But I´ve never had worse preparations for a competition ever.
It is early morning, the contestors are warming up, chatting, showing off fishing rods, laughing. Knut is sitting in the sun with wool socks, a big, black jacket and an extra windbreaker over his lap. He is eating potato chips.
- I'm doing everything I can not to lose weight, but it´s only going one way, he says crossing his thin legs.
His son Tor Håkon is sitting next to him. It´s his first time at one of these competitions and he is excited. He says the drive down to the capital was easy.
- Well, it´s no problem when you slept through all of it, Knut says and pads him on the head.
Knuts colleagues and competitors lack words. They all see how sick he has gotten, but most of them find it difficult to talk about. Some say hi, others avoid him.
- We all know this might be the last time they see me. I can understand that they find it difficult, he says.
The competition is falling behind schedule. For Knut that is dramatic. The pain is always worse later in the day. In the afternoon he is just sitting at the bench, his head in his hands ant the pain is overwhelming. When he finally gets to compete, he is chanceless. On the way home they stop at several gas stations to throw up.

THE NIGHT BEFORE THE CHEMO starts. He can hear the students partying in the park on the other side of the road. Underneath his window a river runs past in the darkness, black and silent. His puma shoes are neatly placed under the bed. The nurse says he has to try to get some sleep. Knut calls his wife.
- Elisabeth? It just hit me. Baby, I´m so afraid.

MORNING COMES. It has to. The curtains are drawn. Knut is lying in the fetal position. Room 2430. It smells of vomiting and sleep, Elizabeth is sitting in the bed with him and she looks helpless.
- I´ve been throwing up all night. And we haven´t even begun yet, Knut says, perhaps to explain the smell, or maybe to break the silence.
They are one now, him and the machine, "that fucking machine". He hates it. It has been his bed all night, waiting patiently. Now it is rattling and crackling in a sickening mechanical rhythm and Knut has resigned. He is drugged and unable to lift his head. The machine is in control now.

Today there is a white cloth covering the machine. "For some it´s important to avoid looking at it" the nurse explains.
- I´m not stupid, I know whats going on in there, Knut says smiling.
Pretty soon he is gone. Every now an then he opens his dry lips and try to speak his brothers name.

Knut has no idea how many bags of this poisonous fluid has passed through his body the last ten years. But he remeber vividly how it feels. The vomit is clear and blank in the beginning but after a couple of days it turns into a black mass. Hours and hours of uncontrollable vomiting of this black, viscious mass. Nurses put diapers on him and he throws up all over everything. And he screams, desperately, "I can´t do this! You don´t get it! I can´t!". He remember one nurse looking at him with tears in her eyes:
"Yes, Knut, you can do this. And you will. We will get you through this."

 

TROND ARRIVES. He sits by his brothers bed for a few minutes then he can´t stand it anymore and goes back out to the hallway.
- They put people on the moon, but they haven´t been able to do anything with the sound of that machine. I hate that sound, it´s evil. Don´t they understand how painful it is to have to listen to it.
He shakes his head. Then he wants to talk fishing instead. Anything other than this. They have a favourite fishing spot, under a bridge. Since 1979, they´ve been there every single year on the first day of the season. Last night was the first time he ever stood there alone.

At the hospital Knut is barely concious. He is drugged down to withstand the chemo. At one point he is just lying in the bed, his hands folded and it´s as if he is allready dead and we´re all in there to pay him our final respect. Noone says anything. On the outside Trondheim is full of life and light today. Birds in the sky, busses with tourists passing over the bridge and students reading for their finals in the park.
Elisabeth, Knut´s wife, is having a cup of coffee on the hospital porch.
- We've tried to talk about what could happen, thet we might not grow old together. But I dont´ think we can possibly understand that it's actually happening right now.

In his room, Knut is stumbling into the toilet, half awake. The nurse is changing the bed linen and he is throwing up with great force until he passes out on the toilet floor. He has diarrhea as well, but he can´t get up, so he ends up shitting himself on the floor in his own vomit. The nurse gets another bag of fluid for the machine. More poison.

 

ELISABETH HAS RENTED a cabin. Just in case. She thought that if Knut survives this and if he recovers nicely, they might sit by the sea together, talk about life, heal. Maybe they can swim a little too, have the kids there as well, throw a barbeque. Just pretend at least, for once, to have a normal holiday. A normal life.

KNUT DOESN´T DIE. Not this Tuesday. The trash can is full of empty, square plastic containers with strange words on the label. It almost looks as if the machine by the bed is tired too. The first round of chemo is over, eight hours after it started. His body is ravaged, but there´s still life in it, glowing. Knut is sleeping. He is like one of those soldiers in the war movies that is sleeping in the trenches. And maybe he is dreaming of somewhere else, of a different life. But then he wakes up. You always do.

IN THE FOLLOWING DAYS he is still sick. The doctors are uncertain, but they eventually decide that he might be up for another round. The results aren´t that impressive. They need to intensify the treatment. It´s going to be a hard summer. And more than before, he will think about his dad. The way his face looked, and how he stood alone after that family dinner, just looking out over the valley. Knut didn´t understand it then. But he knows now.

Today Knut needs to get a lung transplant to save his life and we need to do what we can to help this iconic figure of global game fishing Fishing tackle would not be where it is today without Knuts talents in developing quality fishing equipment we all enjoy today. Please make any donation you can to help
Contributions can be made by bank transfer to the HARSTAD SPAREBANK,
Knut Syrstad Relief Fund.
Account number 4730.06.29322
IBAN NO 5747300629322
SWIFT COD HASBNO21

Text and images from Dagbladet.no
Tekst: EIVIND SÆTHER
Foto: METTE RANDEM OG PRIVAT
MAGASINET

 

Translation from Norwegian to English Ken Reid and EIVIND SÆTHER

A few days ago I was contacted by Eoin Fairgrieve who want to help raise money for Knut. Feels great that there are so many dedicated people out there who want to help. We are now starting phase 2 in the collection of Knut, this is done by Eoin Fairgrieve donates an Ultra Spey Line which will be sold to the highest bid money is then donated to Knut. I have previously asked my friends and acquaintances that instead of buying an extra line that may not be used so much that instead donate that amount of money to Knut.
Now it was the opposite instead :-) Donate to Knut and get your line into the bargain.
I hope and believe just like Eoin that this is a good way to raise money for Knut, so now I ask you all angling dealers to jump on this and help.

The line is available in the following sizes: 8/9, 9/10 and 10/11 - the successful bidder will be able to choose their preferred size.

This is the link to Eoin Fairgrieve site if you need tech info

Bids on THE hardy Perfect 4.0

  • Anders Hellstrand • 12 september 2012 07:21:12
    75 GBP
  • Kent Ström • 5 september 2012 23:23:43
    50 GBP

Today Knut needs to get a lung transplant to save his life and we need to do what we can to help this iconic figure of global game fishing Fishing tackle would not be where it is today without Knuts talents in developing quality fishing equipment we all enjoy today. Please make any donation you can to help
Contributions can be made by bank transfer to the HARSTAD SPAREBANK,
Knut Syrstad Relief Fund.
Account number 4730.06.29322
IBAN NO 5747300629322
SWIFT COD HASBNO21

Maybe Knut and his twin brother Trond together can experience good fishing times along the river again. Maybe not.

Please leave a comment

  • Tony wee • 23 november 2012 10:19:29
    We have a small contribution from Malaysian flyfishers, in the form of a banker's draft. Please give us an address we can send it to. Our best wishes n prayers to Knut n family.
  • William Swett • 18 november 2012 16:29:53
    I would like to donate to Knute's fund using PayPal can you provide instrutions on how I would complete this transaction? I am located in the US and when I click on the "DONATE" button it takes me to a page that is not printed in English, so I'm lost at that point, Sorry. Perhaps for the benefit of those that are not up to speed with this it might be a good idea to add this to a post that was created on SpeyPages by "donnao" in the General forum.
  • Sakari Siipilehto • 11 september 2012 16:12:44
    See the auctions for Knut on Sexyloops. Lots of great things - and, more importantly, help for Knut.
    http://www.sexyloops.co.uk/cgi-bin/theboard_07/ikonboard.cgi?act=SF;f=31
  • Markus Jenni • 1 september 2012 12:12:50
    Knut,
    you earn our help! What you have done for flyfishing is just great and so it was no question for me, if you should help or not.
    All the best, keep on fighting!
    Markus
  • Bernd Ziesche • 31 augusti 2012 12:14:42
    57m on a Spey cast in the World Champion Ships 2012 was the truly golden cast of the whole event. Respect!!!
    Keep on fighting, there is always a chance!
  • Juergen Fischer • 22 augusti 2012 14:54:55
    I remember those days in 1987 in A, when we fished together.
    I wish you the very best, Juergen
  • Harald Paul • 22 augusti 2012 08:10:34
    I will help Knut and I hope, that many other friends of him will do it too. He must have a chance to life.
  • Morten Storborg • 22 augusti 2012 01:00:16
    Kan ikke gjøre annet enn å tørke noen tårer når jeg leser dette. Fisket betyr liksom ikke så mye denne sesongen. Har i flere år ønsket kurs i kasteteknikk hos brødrene, men det er alltid kommet noe i veien. Så det blir med video i stedet. Kan ikke forklare med ord hvor følelsesmessig engasjert jeg har blitt etter at jeg ble klar over sykdommen Knut slåss mot. Tenker mye på Trond og hvor forferdelig det må være som tvillingbror å vitne brorens kamp. Ønsker så inderlig at de vinner denne kampen også, og har stor tro på at de går av med seieren. Så rettferdigheten seirer for familien Syrstad. Ønsker deg lykke til Knut. Og du må ha en enestående bror.
  • Ken Reid • 21 augusti 2012 11:55:21
    Donation made this morning Thomas through PayPal. The link works very smoothly. Ken Reid

I am very moved when I read what Trond writes about his brother, calling Trond immediately after I have read what he writes and asks if I can translate it into English. The idea behind this is to get it out to the rest of the world where Knut has as many supporters at home in Scandinavia. For me personally it was an easy choice to deposit funds into Knut's account, hoping that many of you out there doing the same.

Knut Syrstad Relief Fund
Sitting on the sofa and think back to the salmon I took tonight. Fresh, nice and big and heavy, and I know how happy I am to have the opportunity to experience this again and again. At the same time I become more and more aware that there is something very important is missing, namely to be able to rejoice over salmon catches along with twin brother Knut.
When we started to fish for salmon in the Orkla for over 30 years, was Knut there with me every single time and it was just very rare that we have not shared these experiences. Now it is unfortunately more and more rare that I get to see Knut in the river and I'm beginning to understand that it might not be so much more time with him again. Knut is in fact terminally ill and I am completely desperate.
In Norway, there exists no treatment that can make Knut fresh, and all doctors can offer, or any treatment that can alleviate the worst symptoms.
In the spring of 2004, created a fund and a fund-raising campaign was initiated for Knut in several countries. The idea behind this was to have made possible a possible treatment abroad, first and foremost in the United States. An incredible generosity resulted in a lot of money came in, and it was touching to directly experience the enormous commitment that was shown in connection with this.
The treatment was started in Norway, however, proved to work better than initially expected, and a year later Knut recovered from the disease. The money had been received, was given to the leading cancer center in testicular cancer in the United States, with dr.Einhorn in the lead.
Six years later, and after three relapses, was Knut, as the first ever in Norway, try a completely new and experimental cure developed recently by Dr. Einhorn and his team in Indiapolis. Knut helped cure to beat the cancer back for a while, but the symptoms came back sadly, and shortly afterwards the noted new relapses and now with zero chance of healing.
As a twin brother, I am powerless witness to that Knut is idling, waiting to die! The fix I can no longer, and it is clear to me that I now just have to try everything I can in a desperate attempt to help my brother. Most important is that Knut is now not just give up, and he is now in a situation where I think he must try what can be attempted, and then also the treatment that extends beyond conventional medicine in both home and abroad. Knut has previously been very skeptical about this, as he had klokketro the treatment he has been offered here in Norway. He has continued, but is also much more open to "look around," and is aware that it is time to put all prejudices aside and try other options.
To do this requires money. Money that neither the Knut and I have now, and this is a cry for help from me to you so that I might have helped my brother.
All contributions are greatly appreciated and will be welcome received and really noticed. Unless otherwise requested, all contributions will be treated anonymously.
Knut understands and is aware that I do this.
Contributions can be traced to the HARSTAD SPAREBANK, Knut Syrstad Relief Fund.
Account number 4730.06.29322

 

IBAN NO 5747300629322

SWIFT COD HASBNO21


Sincerely
Trond Syrstad

Thank you for putting the word out there. Knut and his brother are wonderful and an inspiration to the human soul.

God Bless,

Mia, Marty and Tegan Sheppard

Little Creek Outfitters

www.oregonsteelhead.com