Mixed Messages

October 1, 2011:

So we are tucked into Children's Hospital.  We have been here 28 hours.  It seems like a lifetime or more like two lifetimes.  So here is the update.

Hellish first night.
Lots of beeping, blood products, (platelets and packed cells)  hives, more beeping, people in and out.  Lots of blood draws, an additional IV, lots of tears, a call from the President of Gonzaga, more tears, blood draws, a visit from the fellow, some disturbing information about central lines, more tears, calls to and from family and friends, settling into the floor, finding and loosing things like bathrooms and ice machines, lots of beeping, tears, heavy sighs.  Prayers and curses and prayers and tears, more beeping, more checking of the monitors the blood pressure, the heart rate, xrays, scans, more blood work.

Sleep, finally about 1:30 am, more beeping, some sleep.  4:00 am, up with more blood work and no tears, no more left.  Calls to family regarding bone marrow transplant....

Big surgery day:  Deliver the child to the Blue Zone of Surgery.  Meet lots of doctors residents, interns and finally a person we can trust, a nurse.  Off to surgery, Bone Marrow from both hips, Spinal tap to see if cancer has snuck in there and then a Hickman.

Hickman was probably a very nice man and he is from Seattle and I love his invention.  He invented something that keeps children from having to have endless IV's and blood draws.  It is evidently okay to take toxic chemicals directly into the heart Who Knew.......

Out of surgery, more beeping machines and the such, I took a bit of a break after Johnny showed up and even went to dinner out of the hospital and braved the husky traffic so I could find a tank top that worked with Mr. Hickman.

Finally the doctor can to chat. 

ALL for sure.
No Central Nervous involvement

Chemo starts.  Something they call Blue Thunder.

Sleep.  Finally Sleep. 

I think it was that I installed a chakra chime on the IV pole.  It is much happier now.

Medical Flight to Seattle Children's

Hopes:
 We get to go in a helicopter at some point. 
The pilot is cute.
 They have snacks. This does not count as a wish.

Fears:

That we have to do this at all??

Who Ever Said Life is FAIR

Did not have a happy healthy child diagnosed with Cancer twice in less than a decade.

I am sitting at Sacred Heart's Pediatric Hem/Onc Florr looking at the lights of Gonzaga and quietly crying.  Meb is in her new room hooked up to IV's  and chattering with her friends from college.  They arrived at 10:00 pm.  I am giving them some time and space and trying to process. 

Today we heard the words "Very rare, very unusual Late Relapse"  Now isn't that just very special.

She knew,  she knew in that deep dark place that she goes when the world is not cooperating, that it was back.  It is back with a vengeance. 

Last time  26,000 White Blood Cells
This time 225,000 White Blood Cells

97% of the WBC's are useless unformed pieces of useless, wasteful, horrid  schmeckt. 

We are back to square one.  We are starting over.  But this is not a good thing.  She is older, she has a body that has been beaten up before, she is in so so much more danger.  I am just terrified.  I don't know how to even breath right now. 

The plan is as follows:  More liquids, some platelets, some blood, lots of benidryle, some sleep, some more blood tests and then we wait and let those in the know do their job.

They will tell me things and I will write them here and then in a couple of years I will go back and read what I have written.  I hope it is a happy story. 

As I have often said.  God answers all prayers, sometimes the answer is NO.  We  have just cried all day.  All of our hopeful enthusiasm that comes with the statistics that make up Cancer World are gone.  How do we explain to all those parents that go through week after week, day after day treatment of their children, it could be for naught.

They could have a lovely child in school doing well, loving life and then have a weird toe bruise that brings the illusion down. 

So so so so so sad. It will take me a few days to be able to be positive again.

July 18th, 2011

The day has started off in an ordinary manner.  Quiet house, all the lights on. Sleepy residents, Noisy birds.  Surrounded by treasures from the "spare room" upstairs. Mostly pictures.  Pictures that bring back great moments.  They cause the brain to flash back in time.  It is sort of cool.  So for all of you that scoff at such things, it does happen. The image is there, the moment is relived.  What a great thing.

Time for more coffee.

Father's Day and the Last Picture

It did not pass unnoticed.  I was just sad and keep being sad.  We always gave dad really weird stuff.  Like things we had taken from the garage that was he did not know we had stolen.  Or weird garden tools, or books.  Books he and I would only read.  "A Path Between Two Seas".   "My Reading Life" or "War and Peace" 

We each received great things from our dad.  Each person that ever came in contact with Dad was given a gift.  A thought, a conversation, a cup of coffee, a good diagnosis, a kind word. 

It has been six months since his last cup of coffee.  We have all moved on, we have all missed him every day.  We have all been "fine" but there are moments, moments of realization that have come to us all.  Mine came when I ran across this picture.  It was taken by Yim when he went to the Train Station with him.  It made me sob.  \

But then sometimes the best things in the world make us very very sad.  If we can be sad, we can also feel love and joy and all the good things in life. 

Chicken Smuggling.

During my youth(25 to 31) my Father moved the family to Sarnia Ontario Canada. When I say family, I mean Mom and Dad. We all sort of popped in on occasion. Mom was not certain she wanted to go and be a “Landed Immigrant” or that she wanted to move us there. She was well practiced at following my father around the world as he enjoyed new adventures with Dow Chemical. She was a bit resistant and told him she would move if they could find a house on Lake Huron. Since they seldom become available she was certain they could continue to live in sunny warm Walnut Creek California.

Under the heading of be careful what you wish for: a house on Lake Huron became available. It was beautiful, built on an acre, overlooking Lake Huron. Now as a typical American, I did not understand how “Great” the Great Lakes are!.They are sort of like the Grand Canyon and take your breath away. I became even more impressed when they froze and the wind gods decided to blow. The pile of broken lake ice that created small mountains in less than 24 hours were more than 25 feet high was even more impressive. But then let’s not forget the amount of leaves that must be raked in the fall on an acre of land for a house on a lake. Big, all I remember about Canada was how Big everything was. Big trees, big storms, big wind, big snow big leaves, big lake. . And big prices on chickens

After arrival in Canada everyone settled in. Dad was working, mom was being mom. She was adjusting to the seasons and loving the amount of flowers she was able to buy to plant at the big new house. She loved the neighbors, and the flea markets, interesting auctions and the shops where Dad could buy beautiful suits. They explored the whole of Ontario. It was a bit of heaven with a couple of twists. God always makes you appreciate the good things by throwing in reality.

Beautiful Trees = Lots of Leaves

Lovely warm Summers = Snow and gale force winds that will blow a favorite pet away

Warm summer swimming in the summer=impassible yet impressive ice

Lovely fresh vegetable and produce at the market=the world’s most expensive chickens.



It was not the fact our cat would not eat Canadian cat food that caused my mother to resort to crime, it was the chickens.

In Port Huron a mere 3 miles over the bridge and one stop at the boarder chickens sold for 39 cents a pound. In Canada the chickens were $2.50 a pound. Poultry had a strong support in Canada and it was expensive. Even with the exchange rate, it was too much for my mother to bear. So she resorted to smuggling. What could any self respecting thrifty raised in America housewife during the depression do but smuggle Chickens into Canada. What was the worst that could happen, she would lose her cheap chicken. Her husband could lose his work visa and they would be deported. The chickens only were only 39 cents a pound. Of course she had to be a chicken smuggler.

Mom went to the U.S. about once a week or so. She always stopped on the way back and would pick up a hot bird or two or three or four. On one occasion she was traveling with my very proper but practical elderly Grandmother. Grandmother wore rather loose dresses and mom took the opportunity to bring back a couple extra because they could be nestled close to Grandmother concealed by her dress. Mom tucked them in and they headed over the border.

Grandma was fidgety, Mom was calm. She was using her 70+ mother to smuggle birds. What would be upsetting or concerning about that? The border guards are smart. They have a sixth sense They questioned my Mom who denied anything but Purina Cat chow resting on my Grandmother’s wheel chair. He looked at my Grandmother and asked and she simply shook her head all the time looking guilty and holding her breath. I am sure he did not ask her to exit the vehicle because he could see the wheel chair in the back of the car and the cat chow. He looked at her suspiciously but then what could these ladies ever do? He let them through knowing something was up but not sure what it was nor would he ever. The chickens were safe. Grandmother aged a few months but the family was safe until the next trip.

Mom never did get caught.

Even when it is cold and Rainey

The birds still sing.

Have you Noticed

They don't call it remember the precious and wonderful people that you loved and are gone day.  They call if Memorial Day.  Are we supposed to go to a memorial some where?  I think it is too give us a chance to pause and maybe be reflect and definitely think about who is gone from this realm.  So what would Father want.  He wants me to plant a few things and hope for them to grow.  What could be better?

Lessons from the Palm Tree

So here is the deal.  The palm tree is not really a tree but rather grass. It "flowers" every year and keeps growing up and up and up. The old flowrs die and then the fronds that are close or under them start to dye.  The new growth is above the new "flowers".  The dead and dying stuff should come off but I have found that if you leave a bit of it the birds find many many uses for the less desirable parts. Humming birds take the fuzzy stuff for next building.  The Chickadees spend hours filling the crevises with seeds for future use. The finches, starlings, robins, crows use the hairy sort of strands for next nest improvements.  The berries are treasured by the squirles. 

Lessons:  Make use of the old stuff, keep growing, keep moving forward and get a hair cut every now and then.

God's To Do List

There are moments that things come clear.  I took MEB and Jenny to see Archbishop TuTu last night in Tacoma.  It was an evening of music, dance a few speeches and then the Archbishop.   It sort of goes like this. 

God created everything, everything we see but for the world to be wonderful and fabulous, we had to wait for Man, God's partners to really get things going.  Some good, some bad and some really awful.  It took man to invent the wheel, poetry and music.  It took man to create global warming and nuclear weapons.  

The only way to make life better on this planet if we do it.  Hamburgers don't fall from the sky for the hungry masses.  Levis don't fall from the sky.  We need to make sure those things happen. 

It was a simple message that was delivered with humor and with simple directions.  Go be the good things we need done every day.

The horrible things we see in the newspaper every day.  "God's to-do List."

28 years and worth every moment of the wait.

Rod Stewart....  Oh dear or me, I love him.  We have some cosmic connection.  I love his music, his causes, his voice and I have never known why.  I am not a great lover of concerts but I have decided to give up everything and follow him around the world. 

Five Ingrediants.

There are a bunch of really really great cook books.  Their premise is that no one dish should have more than 5 ingredients. 
Protein:, chicken, fish, pork, beans, tofu etc
Oil:  Olive, canola, butter, etc
Veggies:  Onions, garlic, tomatoes, fennel,carrots, celery, etc
 Herbs and Spices:  salt, pepper, turmeric, thyme, sage, rosemary, etc
Starch:  Pasta, rice, potatoes, taro etc

That should be it. 

Things have become so very very complicated now.  Special pans, special ingredients, the left hand bark from free range, gluten free shade grown goa goa tree, only picked on the 4th Sunday of the month if there is a full moon.

I decided some months ago to simplify my cooking, my life and my expectations about life.  I am attempting to adopt the "less is more" way of life.   But I want the best.  I want the best bits of life and I deserve the best.  Not the most but the best.  I want to see what that does to my life. 

I want to see the best movies, read the best books, spend time with the best people and enjoy the best parts of life without all the preservatives.   

Of course that does not mean I am giving up Oreo's.

Things you find when your Father dies.

An invitation to the White house for Tea,


Journal Entry about how messy your house is


Really cool stamps he never shared with you

Gold Coins that were for you and your sister

A renewed love of Les Miserable- Unabridged

Your Garlic supply does not fill itself

You miss him more and more each day, not less and less.

Grampa in the River

We are all a bit sadder than before but then we did lovc him a lot.

Blaaaaaah

I guess there are just days like this.  Start out so fresh and refreshed and then.......  Bad phone call, bad news, disappointing news, not enough good news and then a twist of the old knee and then some more disappointment and the only thing to do is to crawl in the corner and try not to cry. 

What I am coming to realize is that it does not get better when a parent dies, the realization of loss is a constant reminder.  Each new situation creates a new way to miss a wise counselor.  I hate 13ths...

I think this is what we should leave our children

This is what I would hope I have taught my daughter:

The world is hard and unfair sometimes, but that it's all OK because she is so loved.  She is surrounded by souls who would do anything to help her. And not only that --- she has wisdom and patience of her own, buried deep inside her being, which will only reveal themselves over time and will always carry her through any trial.  She is a gift from God to all of us.  (Eat Pray Love)

I hope this is what she knows and  that it will carry her through her life.

Trips to Visit the Daughter

We have sort of had a rough patch.  Lot of less than fun things, deaths, unexpected medical stuff, tsunami, earthquakes, new places to drop bombs, overall a very unsettling times. 

MEB called in a panic.  It sort of when like this:
I am stressed,
I am not sleeping,
I have no time for sleep,
I am worried about...... fill in the blank,
I am freaked out about housing for next year,
I am worried about my grades,
I am wondering if I will get my classes,
It goes on and on and on.

Now I am not sure if it was her panic and despair, or my worry layered on her panic and despair, but I fell back on a Mary Lanhamism, fix what you can. 

Step one:
Go on line and obtain tickets to the Gonzaga  Girls NCAA tournament because if I am able to buy them, it must be a sign a trip to Spokane is in order.


Step Two:

Call good friend Anne, request chocolate delivery to child in distress;

Step Three:

Check calendar and make sure there is time for quick jaunt to Spokane, 

Step Four: 

Re-arrange life, dog hair cut, figure out who is going to pick up the cat, how the children will be cared for and fed.

Step Five:

Drive to Spokane even though the child sounds great by week's end.  Keep driving and enjoy the long and sincere hug that comes at the end.  The child really loves seeing you.  Realize that since her tumultuous drop off in August that you really have not had much good time with her because of all the "stuff"  that is happening.

During the drive, realize that when the world is falling apart and you realize there is nothing in your control, the best thing is to appreciate and grab on to the special things in your life, like our children, our friends and any good energy in the universe.

Also, it never hurts to have Sweet Sixteen shirt, tickets to a girls basketball game and a Zagnut bar.

Month 2

Deep into remembering.  Someone sent me this picture of Dad.  I am sure that we have lots more but there is a certain feel about this picture.  Two Months, 60 days,  tears are still very close to the surface.  I have absconded with one of his very water proof rain jackets. (Something we really needed yesterday) and I unzipped a pocket and found a partially used book of matches.  It made me cry. 

Oh, well. 

Dad's Desk.

I should have taken a picture but don't seem to have one.   I promise to do so.  I just returned from Eugene and spent a fair amount of time with my dad's tax stuff at his desk.  He had everything organized.  I had gathered all the 1099's and W-2's and all that stuff.  I could have finished it all in one sitting but I think I had to return, time and time again. I think Dad is still near his desk.  He loved his desk.  I don't quite remember when it came to be at the house but we have had it since Idaho.  David was the only one that would sit on Dad's lap while he paid the bills.  David does not remember but he is the one that will continue to have the desk.

I know it is going to be at the house a while so when I return, I will find another task that will require some time at the desk. 

Mom is doing better.  She is picking out colors for the house.  Sort of apricot.  We shall see.

So Do you Think I should Worry?

I had been warned that AARP had me in their data base for at least a decade before they mailed me my first invitation.  I knew the moment I was moving towards 50 the card would present itself. 

I was not prepared for the invitation to attend an open house for an assisted living facility.  That took me by surprise.  As I think about it, I am sure they think I should be putting Mother there.  I wonder what she would think about that.......

Who Knows

Hard to tell, life is unpredictable.  I don't seem to be able to get control of things.  Life is such a surprise.  I didn't see that coming.  Boy you could see that coming.....  Can you believe it.....

Ivan Doig, See Runners.  

Life is mostly freehand.

Dad's birthday and Les Miserables

Dad always said that one of his most favorite of books was Les Miserable.  Specifically the unabridged version.  For reasons that are not clear to me, it is almost impossible to find.  A week or so ago I obtained it and began reading it.  At first I thought I had the wrong copy because the beginning was very different.  Duuuuuh, I had never read the whole book.  I persevered and am beginning to realize what a huge affect this book had on Dad.  I am wondering when he read it but it was a book that shaped his entire life.  This passage made me cry last night.  I am sure that Dad was a young man when he first read it but this certainly described our wonderful and great Father.  He would have been 80 today.  He would not have wanted anything but he would have loved all the calls he received and would be pleased that I was finally reading the the UNABRIDGED version of his book:  To DAD

At the first view, and to one who saw him for the first time, he was nothing more than a good man.  But if one spent a few hours with him, and saw him in a thoughtful mood, little by little the good man became transfigured, and became ineffably imposing; his large serious forehead, rendered notable by his white hair, became noble also by mediation; majesty was developed from this goodness, yet the radiance of goodness remained; and one felt something of the emotion that he would experience in seeing a smiling angel slowly spreading his wings without ceasing to smile.  Respect, unutterable respect, penetrated you by degrees, and made its way to your heart; and you felt that you had before you one of those strong, tried, and indulgent souls, where the thought is so great it cannot be other than gentle.

Oh dear, I can tell this is going to be a hard day.  I just hope Dad will get a chance to have a chat with Victor Hugo.........

bit more sun and a little forward movement

So, almost a month ago.  Tomorrow is the one month point but it is also the start of Chinese New Year, the year of the Rabbit.  Several weeks ago I proclaimed that this was the true New Year and that we were going to leave the bad and unhappy things behind .  It was silly to change the calendar so I am embracing my former life heritage and going to  return to the ever changing Chinese New Year.

Given my proclamation, my outdoor lights are not up way past the holiday time, they are waiting for the New Year.  I realize the Santa lights might be not very seasonal but then I am sure they were made in China.

Just thinking about this last month is making me sad.  I am so missing our morning conversations, his ranting about the unfair in the world.  I guess I am entering the secondary sadness.  Yes it was a good death, yes we have wonderful complete and warm memories but the memory making has stopped.  We have to be sustained on those misty molecules that float around in our brain that are triggered by a sound, a song, a poem,smell or a certain shade of yellow. 

Oh dear, maybe mascara will not be the right choice today.

I finally openned the Cards

If you open and read the sympathy cards then you know that it is real.  They are easily spotted in the mail, large, pastel and they are deadly.  Oh, they are deadly.  Poetry is very much the way to go.  Poetry enters the soul in a way that is subtle and confined but sneaks in with great skill.  Sort of like water in hard rock. 

I thought the time for tears has come to an end.  I was wrong.  They are very very near the surface.

Breathing, a necessary function

The table, we always gather here for pancakes.  Dad's sour dough pancakes have been cause for feeding the masses.  He did it so well.  He was proud of his pancakes and they were a hit.  Always sour, always filling, always a great expression of love.  He taught Mary-Elizabeth to make them so the tradition will spread and be maintained.  I have had issues with how they are made but will continue to try.

Dad's Obituary.

John M. Lanham, M.D., 79


Story

Share This

ShareSend this page to your friendsPrintCreate a hardcopy of this pageFont Size:Default font sizeLarger font size

Posted: Thursday, January 6, 2011 8:20 am
Updated: 12:51 am, Thu Jan 13, 2011.



0 comments



Feb. 9, 1931 - Jan. 3, 2011



A new black hole was created on Jan. 3, 2011, when John M. Lanham sat down for the last time in his chair to read the Wall Street Journal and have a morning cup of coffee. During his life, he did what we all should do... he lived a full, eventful and fruitful life. He sought adventure, cherished the small things, sold his treasures for a profit, and grew the best potatoes and garlic in Eugene, Ore. Our mom, his wife of 59 years, Mary R. Lanham, will miss his love, companionship, his endless appreciation of most of her cooking and his tolerance of her catalog shopping. Mea will miss their long walks and quiet mornings.





Dad was born in Ashland, Neb., in 1931, the youngest of five. The family moved to the Idaho-Washington area during the Great Depression. Those years carved him into the person he became and we all valued. He graduated from the College of Idaho in 1952, and began teaching in Riggins. After a stint in the Army in Germany, he returned to teach and coach. He entered George Washington University Medical School in 1958 and graduated in 1962. After an internship and residency in Ogden, Utah, he started a family practice in North Idaho where he treated and cared for his many patients until 1976  when he quit to milk his daughter's cow, Butter Fat, and think about his future. In November 1976, the entire family moved to Midland, Mich., when he went to work for Dow Chemical.



While with Dow, he worked as a plant physician, an assistant Corporate Medical Director, Medical Director for California, Canada, Europe, Mid-East, Africa and finally, as Corporate Medical Director. He retired to Eugene to become a purveyor of fine pre-used items.



Father, Dad, John, Grampa John, Hey You and How Much Do You Want for This... is gone. He will be so, so missed as we learn to live in a world devoid of his wisdom, his snide sense of humor, his love for mankind, his intolerance for Republicans, his love of good books, good basketball and, of course, his sourdough pancakes.



Not being one for ceremony, his ashes are to be scattered as soon as Sally Ann Lanham Esq, Seattle, Wash., Bellelizabeth Foster MD, Marshfield, Wis., Alex Earl Lanham MFA, Eugene, and David Robert Lanham DFP, Visalia, Calif., can "calmly discuss the matter in an adult way so as not to upset anyone or cause strife." (Actually Mom will make the final decision.) Flowers are not necessary. In lieu of such things, plant some daffodils or a tree, or send some money to your favorite charity that cares for the homeless.



Written by: Sally Ann Lanham

2010 Christmas Letter. Finally......

2010


Gains and Losses

Gains:

Diploma with Honors from Holy Names Academy. They mean it when they say time flies. Time for wonderful celebrations of many young women heading out in to the world. Good Job everyone.

Entry into Gonzaga University, new friends , boys, and a new understanding of snow and cold and ice.

Sven Houdini, a black Norwegian Forest Kitten. Tucker, the Scottie, is still trying to figure it all out. Houdini is winning.

Time with great friends from many parts and times of my life.

Losses:

A wonderful daughter to her college experience.

Sadie, our noisy, loud, bossy Westie. She went to her grave well groomed and fully vaccinated.

Weight.

In any year that the gains out rank the losses, life is spectacular.

Health, Love, Peace, Friendship and Hope. These we wish for you

Home and Feeling Great

So I am home.  I have been up since 5:30 am.  Child sent to my bed and I am antsy as hell.  I guess I need to go for a walk but when I headed out the door, it was doing that cold rainy pellets spitting thing.  Oh  well, some catching up will have to do.


So I guess it is Thursday and this is day 6 post surgery.  I am suffering for a whole list of things I can not do.  Driving is the biggest obstacle.  I mentioned feeling up to it and was soundly scolded.  I want to go do things.  I feel great.  I think Felicity, 3440 grams, was sapping my energy.  I read all this post hysterectomy crap and there are long passages about listening to music and reading good books. 


We heal very nicely in this family. I will henceforth try to not:  walk up stairs, do laundry, unload the dishwasher, lift anything heavier than 10 lbs and sit and read and watch movies and listen to soothing music to up my immune system.....  what a bother.

 I am not a good patient. I want to do things and get things done. I am wondering where and when I lost that ability. 

The Mail.

I want lovely Christmas cards and pictures.  I want packages and fun surprises to arrive.  I want catalogs that have a wonderful array of items that I never knew I needs but can not live without.  (I asked Santa for an Avocado slicer since I only have knives and not an item that takes up endless space in my 4 pathetic drawers.) 

Things I don't want:  Hoffner Fischer and Harvey.  ( Catholic Funeral Directors)

Yes it has a lovely picture of Mother Teresa but it is being recycled.

December 17th is really Happening

She is coming out on the 17th.  2- 3 hours of surgery.   I know you are all disappointed but my bikini days are over.  It has to go.... What ever it is. 

It is not the problem right now.  Christmas cards are not done. House is a disaster.  Laundry is not done.  This is a horrible time to have surgery.  I guess last time I shipped Mary-Elizabeth to Mexico with her father.  That made Christmas easier.  This will be interesting. 

last day of work.  Then I can focus on what needs to happen before Friday.

December 17th

7:45 A.M.  Should be home by Monday or Tuesday.  Boy do I have a lot to do before that.......

It has been a horrible Month

So Sadie died, Mom had back surgery (but is recovering nicely), I am not getting my knee replaced but instead am working on being scheduled to remove Felicity d'Fibroid.  Yes, Fibroid is an ugly sounding word and it appears to be a big, ugly fibroid.  Sort of the size of a small watermelon.  No a personal sized watermelon.  A small normal sized watermelon.  Maybe we should have a pool as to the weight.  I am hoping 11- 13 pounds at least.

I had my first scan on the 2nd of November but here is how it goes:
1. See Dr. Scott- he feels mass and thinks a scan would be good.
2. Go  for an ultra sound with a full bladder and no food at 1:30 p.m.  Try to laugh when they tell you that the prep was not necessary. 
3. See Dr. Pam on 8th, she orders a CT with contrast.  She works are getting a surgeon.  Two names received by 11/12/10.  Start making calls to surgeons.  There is a process you know. Attend additional ultra sound (pelvic this time)
4.  November 15, 2010 see Dr. Scott.  He says Felicity needs to come out. She is one of two things and both are not good. 
5. Leave early on November 16 for Mom's back surgery in Eugene.  Go to the wrong hospital, only once.  Receive call from Dr. Anne Bridge's office.  A cancellation.  Great, I am in Eugene. I have to keep original appointment on the 30th of November.
6.  Return home on November 19th.  Spend time on the phone making appointments with Surgeon at Original OB/GYN office for Monday.
7. See Meeghan McKeever.  She agrees out, now but concurs with my thoughts that I should get my hair done first.  She wants a a gynecology oncologist at the surgery.  She talks to him and he decides I should wait three months. He wants to see me.
8. Monday the 22nd I meet with William Peters (Buck).  He examines me and discovers that maybe he is wrong about the waiting requirement.  He is impressed with the size of Felicity and agrees it has to come out.  He wants me to see his associate Pamela Paley.  She does Robot surgery.  She is not available until the 2nd of December but they schedule me for surgery on the 17th. 
9. November 30th.  I finally see Anne Bridges and she agrees that Felicity d'Fibroid must come out but she can not give me a firm date until there is a call made to the "surgery scheduler".  If you thought you heard the sonic boom that would really be the venting of my frustration with our medical system. 
10.  I see Pamela Paley on Thursday. 

 If she will do this with the Robot I will be having surgery on the 17th of December.  If she won't then I am going to choose the doctor that can do it the fastest. 

So let's recap:
Three scans
Three visits to the Family Doctor (20.00 each visit.)
Three visits to the Specialists (35.00 each visit.)
Still no firm answers.  So more news at a 11:00. Eventually

Sadie 10-12-99 to 11-11-10

Burying Sadie in the back yard was not on my to do list but sometimes things just have to be done. 

Please know that she went to Doggie Heaven with no fleas, haircut of less than a week and completely vaccinated.  She is wrapped in a lovely piece of pink flannel that was supposed to be for pillow cases for my sister.  But I figured she needed something soft and warm. She hated to be cold.

Oh my, I am so so sad.  She was just acting funky this morning and I stopped by the vet to see if they could take a quick look. She seemed fine there and so I made the decision to keep her in the car.  I was only going to be there a few hours and it would be quiet.   When I returned I looked in and she appeared to be sleeping.  I then realized she was not breathing. She was a bit warm and had been sleeping.

I had an appointment so I sat for a moment trying to take it all in.  Found a towel in the car, wrapped her up and then went to the meeting.


I called Mary-Elizabeth and told her I was driving around with a dead Sadie in the car.  I was crying and in her best MEB way she tried to make me feel better. 


So I came home in the dark and the rain and went to the garage.  Found a spot in the garden and buried her with the help of Jim.  He was greatly helpful and worried and sad and surprised and sad.  We cried and dug.


I found a lovely piece of pink flannel  that was supposed to be pillow cases for my sisterand wrapped her up. Tucker did not want to come near her.  She was placed in the ground and gently covered with earth. 


I am going to plant a whole bunch of daffodils and a tree on the spot and she will bring brightness and shade for years to come.




Oh, she will be missed, her barking, her instance on being boss, her need to have a treat all the time. 


We are a bit teary and will be sad for along time. 

More later.  Here are the last pictures taken of her..

Felicity d'Fibroid

Well we know we like to names things in this family.  So Felicity d'Fibroid has made an appearance in my "Abdominal Cavity".  She might have been there a while, maybe 15 months.  She needs to come out, sooner rather than later and will be having her last run in the  next couple of weeks. She is 18 cm by 18 cm by 17 cms...... we are talking huge.


Lots of questions still:  Do I get to keep my girl parts? Do I want to keep my girl parts?  Do we have to do cutting or are there other ways to get Felicity out? Do we need to worry about her distant cousin Larinda d Leiomyosarcoma? 


Like any medical process, there is a long series of actions leading up to the decision.  I am going to fight any more tests but then I might loose.  It seems to go like this:  1. Ultra Sound, Ct Scan, MRI.  I am starting to think that we love to use our machines.  The justification is that we do the least invasive first.  But instead of having once test, I get to have three.  Hummmmmmmm.


Surgery will be at Swedish.  Doctor to be determined.  Off to walk Greenlake because I am pretending nothing is wrong.

Dear Mary-Elizabeth;

November has arrived and we have been raking leaves.  You have been spared from the job because you are at college and they have people that do those sorts of things. AS I was raking I recall having a meal at Margaret's and Rory taking after you will a rake. I too the rake and you and Rory and we raked leaves.  It is a good memory.  There are lots and lots of those.  I think what you will find as you work yourself through life, you will have a series of memories that come and go.  They come to the surface when you the right trigger. 

I am experiencing a few of those right now with the "we can see you have a mass but we don't know what it is, let's do a few tests and see what we can do. 

 I think it is pretty easy.  Lets just go take it out (Melissa deMass) and call it good.  Then we can figure out what it is.  Moving the Medical system forward like trying to contain 10 gallons of wet noodles that have spilled on the floor.

Monday at 8:45 a.m., I meet with the doctor, she orders a CT and we discuss surgeons.  I work on some things I think should be handled today like planting the Purple cone Spruce and light another candle or two.

Sweetie, I just think this is an unexpected bump.  Good things: no knee rehab during winter and I loose lots of inches around my waist.  Bad, I cant think of any and that is a good thing.

Love Mom

I am a Chickedee but we are on different schedules

So I watched the chickadees yesterday as they took seed after seed from the feeders.  They were very busy.  I started to notice that they kept coming to the palm tree which sits outside my window.  They would hop around and then would be working a seed into the soft spongy bark.  They especially like the little pockets that surround the tree.  

Because of the nasty high winds and staggered down pouring rain, I used the nervous energy of Jim to work on the basement.  We dug deep into the corner and pulled out all the boxes, the books, the mysterious items that have collected for 18 years.  Moved them, sorted them and identified them.  Oh dear, I am any of the following:

1. A pack rat
2. A squirrel
3. A Chickadee

The difference is that I have now determined that it is spring.  It is time to clean out the old sun flower seeds. 

Parent's Week-end is not for the Children

Oh, no the first visit to college is not for the kids.  They are not homesick.  They really only want a minute or two, some food and then a chance to continue with their new live.  They fess up to some homesickness, say things like "yes I think about you every day".   They are polite enough to roll their eyes such that you don't see it.  I went to see ME this week-end and it was fun.  Dinner with her peeps, Coffee with her peeps, breakfast with more peeps, then some Mom and Daughter boot shopping. 
Time to go visit the craziness that is Liberty Lake, two kittens, four dogs and a great movie.
Lots of sleep, Sourdough  pancakes, trees to water, beautiful sunny days and crisp cold (Ice on the Birdbath). I so loved this time of year.

As I headed West, I thought about the week-end.  It really was about me finding out that she was doing fine.  Okay there have been a few issues with grades, a guy that sometimes makes her sad, but there is so much going on, some great people taking care of the kids, giving them a place to stretch those wings.  It is such a great feeling. 

I don't think she needed to see me as much as I needed to see her.  The rolls are starting to change.  Remember when they were wee little toddlers.  They would stumble or encounter a problem and make a beeline back to you for comfort. 

I made a beeline to her to just check-in and see if she was okay.  Life is good, the world is safe.  (unless I think about what I saw in Social Network and then she has to come home tomorrow and live in the basement forever.)

Adventures in Other Lands.

So...... sometimes there are things that happen and unless you are somehow connected, you miss out. the Kimchi crisis is one of those very things.   Unless anyone has been following the problems with crops this year, there is a Napa cabbage shortage in Korea.  This might seem like a small thing but Napa Cabbage is the source of Kimchi...  Much maligned fermented cabbage, sort of hot saurekraut. (I must confess I am a known maligner.)

So here is the story.  I have been hosting a series of Korean students attending a college in the University district.  They have been very happy to eat what ever I prepare but they all have tentatively asked for Kimchi.

Well I sort of resisted the temptation to take the little darlings to Owejimia and let them see all the things that are available for their consumption.  I  also heard these statements from Young Kim and Kujo that kimche was very very expensive and there was a supply problem in Korea.  NPR confirmed the rumor and then the Seattle Times printed the article.  http://seattletimes.nwsource.com/html/nationworld/2013073788_kimchi05.html

Well....  Who knew that a riot could be started if the President suggested Kimchi could be made from cheaper round cabbage.  I guess that means I have to give it a try.

Google and Wikepedia are our friends.  Martha has a good spin.  So, review of recipes, look at the pictures, go to the Korean Tofu House, taste some and dive in.

One Napa Cabagge. (79 cents a pound), ginger, garlic, Japanese radish, green onions, red pepper flakes, fish sause and a prayer.

Mix it all together and then wait.  Opps, maybe the red pepper was supposed to ground and not in flakes.  Did I soak the leaves in salt water long enough? The fish sauce was Thai, will that make a difference?  If I do this again what kinds of pepper should I use?  I wonder if I can do this with Chipolte instead of red?  Should I add bean sprouts and water chestnuts?  Should I find the sourse for aging jars? 

See this could be a very slippery slope! 

So the tasting will be next week. 
On a sweeter note the final fruit for the fruitcake has been gathered and is ready to soak. 

All in All life is good, unless you open my fridge and take a gander.

So as you bobb along.... Others are being caught up in storm of unknown crazyness

So you are sitting in church after being gone way too long and you have a guest so you are a bit distracted. You are wondering if some of your friends are there and you know, long morning.  Then there are the prayers and someone mentions a name of someone you know, someone you know very well, someone you have known since before they were born, someone that sort of went to St. Joe's because you said it was a good idea.  Someone that you have watched grow up and struggle and thrive and struggle some more.  Then you ask and someone tells you the same prayer was requested last week and then you panic a bit.

You sort of let it go out of your mind and start to look for the number on Monday. You leave a message for the dad, he is gone for a couple of days (worry increases)  You call the church and they don't know or are not telling. You leave a message for another friend, you take a look at facebook.  Yeah hospital is mentioned, more panic, You call your daughter to see if she can sleuth something out and then just wait for the calls to be returned.

Then the call comes, first from Dad, then from Mom, oh, yeah, not immediate disaster, not good.  Lots of things going on, Kidney, Liver, heart complications, lots to think about.  Immediately go into helping mode.  Easy switch.  Encouraging, suggest letting people help is a good thing.  Makes helping wanna be's happy.  Let Mom know that it is okay for someone else to rake the leaves, do the laundry and bring dinner over many times.

It is okay to make a list and let other's do some of the ordinary things that need to be done.  Oh, do I know that it is possible. 

Then pray, bargain a bit with God for someone else's child.  Try to figure what would help now, so here is the plan.  Pick up good coffee and some good treats, pick out a Mary to stay while needed in the hospital.  Find something to maybe help person interact with his younger brother. 
Pray,
Be thankful for the fact that we are just bobbing a long.

Birds are gathering and other things to think about.

So the birds, they birds, they birds.  They are hungry and demanding and going through at least two feeders a day.  Let me tell you, if I am dilatory about the refilling process, they let me know.

I am trying not to read anything into it but then a little voice in the back of my head is saying...... Winter is coming, Winter is coming.

I guess we are sort of ready.  I am going to harvest the three beets, 6 carrots and mound of potatoes this week-ed.  There will be a nice pile of green tomatoes and one or two Scarlett runner beans.  I think that is about it.  I hate to under estimate the importance of signs. 

So be forewarned.  It might be a bad winter. 

I have attached a couple of the pictures of my yard.  I realized they look like last years pictures.  Time to do something radical.  I guess I have a long winter to think about it.  I have a couple of trees to plant, some garlic to get in, some grapes to deal with some way.  I have fruitcakes to bake, and drawers to sort out.  I think I am booked for the near future.

Life is good.  A child at college is good.  Fall is good.  It is sort of like that quiet time of day just before the sun departs the sky.  A time of preparation.

Flat table Tops and other thoughts.

I have a house with no storage. So I tend to be a piler. I pile stuff on the table, the piano and then on the desk and the counter/eating area. It seems to be a problem. I would like to think it is from a lack of cupboards, or drawers or other places to put things. I am beginning to think it is just a problem.

I did some digging this week-end and began to discover the benefit of flat surfaces and bags that came from the flat surfaces in the past. It is sort of like a treasure hunt. Long forgotten items. Many of no value, some of great sentiment, all a surprise. So there probably is not a place for most of it in the permanent collection. There is a need to let it go and jot a note for the remembering times of life.

I must continue to sort. I am starting in one part of the room and moving out. I figure I won't be penned in that way. Pushing things out of the corners, into the middle and then out the door.

Things I am not doing:

I am not dealing with pictures. They are gathering in their own boxes.

I figure that for everything needs a new home. Chutes and Ladders goes, Scrabble stays.

I think I am working toward me having a new home but this process must happen first.

NO LORI THE LAUNDRY IS NOT ALL FOLDED. YET......

Moments of Sweeping or Folding

Lupe used to sweep, Father Gustavo used to sweep. It was something that happened every day and without haste. I think it is important to learn this form of "meditation" I don't sweep. I fold. Now don't think I fold cloths, NEVER! I fold fabric.

I take it all off the shelf and I refold it. I start at one side and move down the shelves. I find that it is a calming process. I find forgotten fabric, I find fun fabric, I find fabric I have loved, some I have hated and some I just ponder about. I let go of some, I plan new quilts for some, think of new and inventive ways to use it. I know that we require businesses to do inventories, to take stock in a calm way.

Pictures next.

Fruitcake

10 pounds of cherries-green and red, pineapple- red and yellow, orange peel-orange and 4 green glace' figs, one pound of raisins, two bottles of brandy. Let sit for 30 days. Add brandy as needed.

Be nice to Sally and maybe she will share.

60 percent to a cure.

As anyone that ever read this blog knows, I hate days that are the 13th. It reminds me of one of my personal "never ever going to forget the instant that....". days. That being said September 13th is my all time favorite day. It beats Christmas and Thanksgiving and my birthday months.

.

September 13, 2004 was the day that they declared Mary-Elizabeth to be in remission. She had been in treatment for a month and had failed the day 7 remission bone marrow. I did not understand the importance of her going into remission on that day at the time, I was just greatly relieved.

Since that date she has been through a lot. Lots of treatment, lots of side-effects, lots and lots of every thing. But then she has not been through a bone marrow transplant. These are good things.

4 more years and she will be cured.

Right now we take it one year at a time.

Do you remember where you were when?

each of us have events that are seared into our brains. Some personal some universal.


Mine:

1. The day they took my brother away to the Nampa State Home
2. The Day we left Idaho for Washington DC
3. The Day John F. Kennedy was killed
4. The Day Robert Kennedy was killed
5. The day the Space Shuttle blew up
6. The moment I realized I was pregnant
7.. The moment MEB was diagnosed
8. 911
9. the first time I tried Sushi and did not throw up.

I am always amazed at what we remember.

I just know that on 9-11 I began to apply a new rule to my life. NEVER EVER TURN ON THE TELEVISION WHEN NPR CALMLY SAYS : THERE APPEARS TO BE FIRE IN THE WORLD TRADE CENTER

Conflicts in Life

It is not alright to burn Bibles or Korans
vs
We have a right to burn Bibles or Korans

This is a country built on Religious Freedom but the very people that wave the flag and demand the right to burn Korans, also do not want to have a Mosque built. The burners will trade their right to burn for a promise to limit where a place for free worship will be built. It is so confusing.

We are a country of free people. This is not Pre-civil war times when only part of the people were free. Oh, that is right women weren't people at one time.

I don't understand the thinking but grant that they have the right to think that way. Trust me the world would be very unhappy if my way of thinking was imposed on everyone.

Drip coffee, white bread and Sunny D would be banned. Fruit Stickers would have to go, ketchup in small packages would be eliminated along with the people that pull out in the intersection and wait for the light to change. See, better to be a free society.

I also hate the death penalty but it might have to instituted for bad drivers.

Package arrived.

It was big it was red it was noticed. She is happy.

The Package has not arrived.

How could it be missed. It was huge, it was red, it had Mickie Mouse on the front and back. Life is not fair sometimes. It might be in another person's box. I suggested to the child that she ask. Something she is loathed to do. But then if she wants it she will ask.

I have a more important issues. I have lost my favorite ( and only) long rain coat. If I was smart I would have more than one but it was my favorite and I have had it for about 15 years. Oh, well maybe I can find a new favorite.

Today it is raining. Even Tucker does not want to go outside.

Writing Letters

It is a lost art. I realized this morning that I never did achieve the perfect place to write. That perfect place would be a fine writing desk that has a view of an endless garden in the English Countryside. The house would be heated by multiple fire places and staffed by a group of adoring much loved servants that knew their place. There would be some mist falling while I penned long thoughtful sentences on fine parchment with a gold tipped quill pen.

Okay so back to reality. No great surface. It is covered with papers and photo's and other miscellaneous junk. The view is of a palm tree. The pen is good but the favorite pen has decided not to flow appropriately. The letters are written. Not great words but words that might bring a smile to the new group of college girls that are so happy to be in their dorms without their mothers.

My Sister says I am not reacting in a normal way.

So I guess I am not properly grieving the loss of my daughter. I have not lost her, know exactly where she is. She is happy and healthy and doing her laundry, going to class and having fun with her friends. I am working on sorting and cleaning and working on projects. Maybe in three or four years when I am done with the main floor, will miss her.

I am getting bad mother points.

I took a Snow Day

I often have moments of sheer exhaustion at being in contact with everyone. I so wish had a place that was not so connected. How do we get to the quiet place if we have Wireless, Wifi, Blackberry telephones, computers that are all hooked up. How do we get to the books or the silence when it s just all sitting there screaming at us.

I just pretended that none of it existed. I sent an e-mail to my assistant, called my mother (sort of cheating) and turned off the phone and the computer and did not look at the Blackberry.

I took a deep breath and walked the dogs, dropped some stuff off at Goodwill, returned some unneeded items to Bed Bath and Beyond and took lots of deep breaths and cleaned the top of my counter top. It is not good to spill the rice. Sadie likes it raw.

No word from the Gonzaga child she is probably studying and is sure she is going to fail but then she always thinks that because she is not a million pages ahead of herself. I just hope I helped her find a way to find the quiet.

Now What....

That is what everyone keeps asking. So I guess this is What.

There are a million and one things that need to be done. Stupid little things that always seemed to be put on the back burner like matching the socks and purging as I go. It appears that if the dark socks are as dirty as the white socks, maybe they should all go into the Goodwill bag.

The three new chairs I bought need new seat covers. I know that out in the garage the tools for that job exist. So when I get there I will feel the need to organize and not get back to the chairs but rather find things that need to go to Goodwill. It will be a mystery as to how long it will take to get back to the chairs.

I was contacted yesterday by a group that need to store a student here for a month. He is from Korea and that should be interesting. I better see if I can clear a path to the upstairs bedroom. But is he is coming then maybe I should take the rug I was going to put up there to be cleaned and then send the one that is up there to Goodwill.

Child update: No news, I think that is good news.