She is Off to Camp.... If she only knew

My only claim to fame as a mother of a camper is the care package I send every year. Some mothers lovingly bake cookies, find lovely treats, send notes and cards and send e-mail through the system where you pay to e-mail your child, less they forget you are still hovering over them and interfering with all of their fun. I drop my child, after being made to wait for the bus to leave, and head to China Town. I head into Owajima and spend about an hour finding a nice variety of items. Packages with little dancing fish and bears in brightly colored wrapping dancing on the surface and no food label are my favorite. I fill a box of such treasures and off it goes. I figure most of it is fed to the raccoons.

I don't ever send the really really bad stuff. I should just for fun. the picked fish heads, the toasted tiny fish skeletons and other such mysteries. It could be a fun fun package if I could imagine some sort of consumption and not just screeches from the girls.

I am just so glad she is at camp. This is her favorite thing. She is coming back to unhappy but necessary "procedures". Her summer will end August 10th. Surgery on both legs to lengthen her calf muscles. More later. It is too YUCK to think about today.

Today I am thinking about gummy weird candy that no one can identify.

Birthdays, Non Parties and other Matters

She is now 17 years old. Hard to believe. She spent her birthday with Grampa and other Grampa in Eugene. Her father and clan went for a three day visit. In ways it seemed odd to have them going to visit and not me but then in other ways it was more than fine. I was at home and doing some minor gardening projects and then took off to visit Margaret and Mary-Jane's Whidby Island cabin. (That is certainly something I intend to do more.)

I came home on Saturday to find the porch filled with boxes addressed to the birthday girl and plants that were more than happy that the marine layer was coming for a long visit. (We don't do well in 80 degree weather.)

Mary-Elizabeth came home and promptly attended her first R rated movie without adult supervision. Of course she wanted me to come give her a ride home because the "bus takes too long". Gee.....

So things on my mind. Sarah Palin.... Michael Jackson.... Minidoka Internment Camp.... What to cook for dinner. Gee... that might take too long.

The Wedding in San Diego

Wonderful, wondeful, wonderful......

We had such a great time. We love San Diego...... Time at the Zoo. Time at the University of San Diego. San Diego Mission. What more do I need to say....

The Girls are Seniors!!!!

Sliders, giggling, time with friends and family. A bit of wine (now officially a clear liquid) time to reconnect with important people.

Life is good, the backyard is clean and there is some sunshine and much needed rain coming. what can we complain about.

M-E is going to camp, being a camp counselor at Gilda's Club, "Camp Sparkel" We have a fancy wedding and them on road trip to visit colleges. Gonzaga, Whitman, College of Idaho, and them maybe U of Portland.

I suggest a trip to Shoreline Community College and she declined.

LAST DAY OF SCHOOL......

DO I NEED TO SAY MORE

First Draft the of the College Essay.

It is said that the hardest time in out lives, other then the “mid life crisis”, are the teen years. We hit puberty like a brick wall and we are stuck in the middle of the adorable sweet child, and the self reliant adult. Yes it is hard, it does not sound like fun, and most people do not want to repeat their teen years but its “normal” and part of life.
This all was taken from me when I was twelve. I was looking forward to becoming a teenager and could not grow up fast enough. However, life had a different plan for me; I was diagnosed with Leukemia the summer of ‘04. It was a shock to hear that I had to go though 2 ½ years of treatment. Part of my treatment was radiation. I was told I had to have tattoos so they could line me up precisely as to not harm me. I walked in to the waiting room of UW Medical Center on the day of my appointment, checked in and sat down in the dull waiting room with the matching vinyl chairs. There were not many people waiting, giving me time to think what the person doing the tattoos. I thought of the word “tattoo” and immediately an image of a biker man with a leather vest and tattoos all over into my head.
My name was called interrupting my thoughts. After winding through long hallways like a lab mouse, we finally enter the room. There standing in front of me was not a big burly biker man and lots of tattoos, but a short dorky man with a lab coat on and glasses too big for his face and was not what I expected. He explained to me what to expect and I was told it might “pinch” meaning “it’s going to hurt but my med school training tells me to say it will pinch to make you feel better”. By spending a lot of time at the hospital, I had learned to decode words like this and find their true meaning. They warn me they would start so I prepared for the worst. The first one was painful and I thanked God I had a high threshold for pain, but it got better as they continued. As they worked, they started talking to me. They asked about my life and I told them my story. As I did, I realized I would never have a “normal” life. At 12 I had to learn to take a lot of responsibility and learn to deal with a great burden and had to grow up in a shorter time then most girls. Most teenage girls worry about which boy likes them, who they will eat lunch with, and when they will learn to drive and here I was worrying what procedure is next, hospital times, and what side affect I would get next. I also had to become comfortable with the idea of death. I learned quickly humor was the best antidote to all this and that we can not dwell on death or fear it. I came to realize, even though it sounded crazy, I wanted to be a normal teen that had acne, had to worry about shaving their legs, and had to spend hours on her hair on a bad hair day. These little small stupid things were what I wanted to do and deal with. All this went through my head in seconds.
By that time I had leaned not to dwell on these sorts things and continued the conversation. Before I knew it, the procedure was over, and I had tattoos, which my mother gladly paid for. This is something that happens very rarely in a teenager’s life. To this day and for the rest of my life I will have these tattoos. They are a universally symbol of radiation treatment and remind me of all the things I missed from the ages of 12-14, but they also show me what I have taken from my life. It has been hard, but its one I enjoy everyday without out a doubt. I know what is important now and what to notice in my daily life. I have also accepted that “normal” is not part of who I am and I have learned that I would not be Mary-Elizabeth Sierra Lanham if I was normal.

Take Two Aleave and Call me in a Couple of Weeks.

So we went back to see the doctor. There is a thingy, ME does not want to name it. It looks like a bubble. There are also some small inflamed areas in three of the small foot joints. May be a problem, may be nothing. There is also still talk of heel cord lengthening surgery. It just makes me cringe.

A very tall woman with a thick eastern European accent drew about 6 viles of blood to see if there is anything weird going on. She had purple nail polish. I had warned M-E that there were be blood letting.

So to sum it all up. There is a thing. We are exploring all the Things it is not. M-E is pretty quiet about all of this. I am totally freaked out but then this is the first post-treatment THING we have had to deal with so maybe I am supposed to be freaked out. I am stressing eating fresh halibut and Paseo Cuban sandwiches and badly burning cookies.

So, I have been here and done that......

I hate MRI's

Just once I would like them to be good news. So here is the deal, thought we had a stress fracture. All signe, sore foot, no apparent trauma, just pain. So off to the doctor, nothing on the X-Ray, then off to the MRI. No appointment available until June 2, 2009. Does anyone believe that I am going to wait that long.... NO WAY.



E-mail Karyn at Childrens and she finds the reports. (Children's/UW and The Hutch are all working together for a better tomorrow or some such nonsence. So..... I get the report.



THERE IS A A 5x6x7 MM CYSTIC LESION BETWEEN THE HEADS OF THE THIRD AND FOURTH MEATARSALS.



Oh joy...... So here we are things we don't like in places they don't belong. Could be a normal thing, could be a bad thing, I would prefer, nothing.

Regionals, Visits from Mother, German Sheppard Puppies and Maple Trees

I am exhausted. So here is the story
1. Leave from Seattle to pick up Mom from the Train Station.
2. Take the wrong exit and fail to drive far enough on wrong street. Find Mother EVENTUALLY
3. No room in the good hotel but check into newly remodeled Comfort Suit. Mom then refuses to move the next day. Settle in.
4. Get up early because I just always do and go to breakfast and then to see the Girls row.
5. Watch Mary-E in the 4 and a very very bad race. Wipe tears and spread on more sunscreen
6. Return to the hotel, have dinner with the team, receive reprimand for talking during speeches
7. Take Mom to the train, head to Maple Nursery. Find out that Nursery and Quilt Barn both open at 10:00 a.m.
8. Find a couple of trees that need homes. Maybe 3 trees. Give one to neighbor to plant so I can enjoy it.
9. Travel home to find Tracy Hentz on door step with a 9 month old puppy (size of small horse) and 13 week German Sheppard Puppy.

Puppy anyone?

Mac and Cheese Recipe

Fun shaped Pasta- one box. cooked about half way.
Saute (fancy name for fry) in some a little bit of olive oil, one small finely chopped onion, one green, red or yellow or orange pepper, add two hot Italian sausages,

Mix pasta and other stuff in a backing dish.

take a cube of butter 3 or 4 tablespoons of flour and combine. Add a half a cup of half and half and a 1.5 cups of milk simmer until it thickens a bit. Add at least three types of cheese about a cup of each. I used aged Gouda, medium Cheddar and a Gruyere. Melt all the cheese and pour over the pasta

Top with bread crumbs and shredded Parmesan. Bake for 45 minutes.

Variations, any kind of meat, mushrooms, veggies, artichokes, asparagus, salami, chicken, Any kind of cheese that seems to be around. It is fair game.

confession: Favorite Mac and Cheese. Kraft.

New Variations on Mac and Cheese and Prom Night

So, Mother's Day 2009. Thank God, Mother Earth, the Great Spirit, the Sun, the Moon, every possible superior being in the universe and beyond.... I am still a Mom. Now on to important things.

Prom Night in Ballard:

Last night we met at our house. By we, I mean friends, family and the kids. Flowers were pinned on nervous boys, pictures were taken, snacks were consumed and then the kids were off to dinner. Parents and friends stayed for a couple of hours and did a group therapy session about their own high school highs and lows. It was concluded that there this generation of young women have made a very big leap from "our day".

I cannot talk about the whole gang but at least for Mary-Elizabeth and Madeline the process went like this:

Need a date, but no need to find a date until the perfect dress and shoes are found. Once that happened then the date became paramount. Mary-Elizabeth went with a guy named Corbin. Senior, going to the New School in New York next year. Great sense of humor, writes and performs poetry, has a rap CD. His mom made sure that he had the right colors for his tux, the right flowers and was on time. It all was good.

The prom going group was a bit unsure of what to do a the house. Food is the great equalizer. The girls were afraid to eat anything sloppy but the boys found "snacks' a good thing. Mom told this morning that she was sure they ate a full meal before they got dressed and would eat when they arrived home.

They came in last night, Sadie let me know that they were home. Both were chatting with that great ease of friends that had a good time. Lots of laughing. Finally a very tired and pleased child came in and told me life was good. Prom was fun, and that Corbin made her dance.

She unloaded her stuff on the table. Only my daughter would take tape and bandages to address blister issues.

SAT's Eye brow plucking and other rites of passage

This is the color of the dress with a brown ribbon.

The SAT's are this A.M. Lots of anxiety. She will do fine. I told her this was just the first time she would be taking them and now we don't have to send all to the colleges and who knows, they might be good enough. Bacon and mangos for breakfast seems to help and off she went.

After this event we have bunches of stuff to do before next week. Let's see. Nails, eyebrows, decisions about where to go for dinner. I am having a small "cocktail party" pre prom so that should be fun. Wine cheese, something hot and spicy, a sweet and a chance to wish the children off on their big adventure.

Seems like the thing to do. I don't remember much about pre-dance stuff other than my father cleaning all his rifles while my quiet shy timid boy friend came and picked me up. Ugly........

The Holy Trinity of High School

Perfect Dress
Perfect High heels
Perfect Date for the Junior Prom.

What more needs to be said.

SAT's on May 1
Junior Prom May 9
Crew Regionals May 15th

Seems like we have lots of Trinity Moments happening.

My newest distraction

Type in Falcon Webcam and then just sit back and enjoy. The whole country has these set up and this is active active time. Babies are less than 4 days old in San Francisco, WAMU tower has a very devoted pair about 15 days away from a hatch. It is just too much fun.

Easter is the Ever Evolving Holiday

I love this time of year. I totally understand the original cultures (pagan seems harsh) that joyously embraced this time of year. Small little shoots of new life reappear, the trees send out new leaves for a years of energy capturing and then the breeze brings that new scent of spring. A bit of pollen is not much to complain about.

We both have been sick. M-E started with great collapse of her system last week-end. Trips to the doctor, assurance that it was only a virus, then lots of soup. We are so tired of soup. No energy to cook or even bother to eat. Cereal seems to be the best thing. Maybe toast if a burst of energy hits.

BUT IT IS EASTER!!. Okay, so a few chocolate representation of small juvenile creatures, some springy sorts of plastic glittery grass and an Easter basket. I think I have done a very good job. The bunny is years and years old and so is the basket. The Annies Bunny Pasta was just genius. Mary-Elizabeth has a DVD wish list and I had to choose one. I thought the Secret Life of Bees a story of new life and discovery was the most appropriate followed by Slum Dog Millionaire, another story of struggle and new life. But in all fairness, Twilight was the right choice. This is the holiday about ever lasting life. The renewal of life, the changing from one form to the other. So Twilight ended up in the basket.

Another big change: No Church.... I love this time of year within the Catholic calendar. Maudy Thursday with the foot washing, Good Friday with the bare quiet church and no mass and then the Easter Vigil. The dark night that tells the whole story from Genius to the discovery that Jesus has left the tomb. I love the quiet, the hymns the light that begins to grow stronger and stronger until the whole church is filled during the darkness.

this year.... The Ten Commandments... How long is that movie! it was on from 8:00 to 12:45. They spend years and hours in Egypt. I think Baby Moses was played by one of Heston's kids and I think they were in Egypt because everyone could run around with their shirts off.

Oh, well maybe some Dim Sum today or some more soup.

The Head Line Would Read like this

The family sadly said good bye yesterday to the 1996 Honda Accord Station wagon that met it's untimely end on February 19th 2009.

The family was traveling home after watching Lion King and an evil and fast traveling SUV decided the red light did not mean anything and blew through the intersection.

Even though the air bags did not employ, there was enough front-end damage to realize it was time to send the car to the land of "parts" There she rests among those of own kind. Waiting to be needed in another way. Her head lights and door handles will be used by other with such vehicles, those that value their vintage Honda's and try to keep them on the road longer than those stinky Toyota's and Subaru's...

In her place a new vehicle has arrived. She has been loved beyond words by her prior parents. She has only 101,000 miles and is pristine. I mean, it is possible that no one has ever sat in the back seat. It was reported that no animals and no more than two children have been in the car. No food, no coffee, no muddy boots or even shoes. The second set of mats are in perfect shape.
She came with touch up paint. We are bonding with her perfect, never scratched, never dinged Champagne exterior.

I know brown and beige are brown and beige, no matter what you call them. Someone has already found a bright orange Wag More, Bark Less magnetic medallion and put it on the rear. I just could not help it. (Also there is stuff in the back.) It is down hill from here

Opening and Closing Doors

I guess I am with Mary-Elizabeth, I just want all of this to stop. I have had enough of the Cancer World thing. It just does not give up. Every time you think life is going to "get back to normal" something trips you up. The dogs leave a bone on the floor and trip, or the favorite restaurant is gone, or the weather man forgot to mention the 2 feet of snow that is falling. MAKE IT STOP.

That being said, I had that horrible feeling last night. I was securely nestled on a very high end brocade sofa in the Olympic Hotel in downtown Seattle. A very quiet, smiling woman dressed in black exited the elevator. She had a perfect splash of color from her tasteful and folded scarf. She walked over and introduced herself to Mary-Elizabeth. I asked if I was needed, both said "NO". She and Mary-Elizabeth entered the elevator and the door closed. I had the same feeling and flash back to the days she entered the radiation chamber at the University of Washington. Pressure builds in the chest. I become short of breath, maybe because I had stopped breathing all together and then I waited for her to come out again.

This time the wait was for an hour or more properly a therapist hour, of 50 minutes. She did re-emerge. After her radiation treatments she was usually smiling, complaining about how her mouth tasted funny, and she just wanted to go home to bed. She would have some crazy craving like Costco hot dogs and only Costco hot dogs.

A different person came out of the door. There were signs of tears. When I asked what was wrong, she said she just wanted to go home, now, please, don't ask, don't enquire. She hates to cry. I asked if everything was okay. She gave me the "LOOK"...

I guess we have to enter the hard places and address the hard issues in order to find the good doors to enter. Maybe if she goes up that elevator enough time, she can close the door on Cancer World.

David never changes.

Sally:

Hey, little brother
So you weren’t in Montana

David:

You know me better then that, this time of year I am in Mexico more often then no

Sally:

So what happen in Montana?

David:

No one will know for awhile, but I can tell you, I would never fly a ___________ (I didn’t catch the name)

Sally:

Do you think he ran out of gas?

David:

'I don’t know?

Sally:

Does it make you nervous?

David:

No! whatever it was, I wouldn’t let it happen to me! I am too careful.

You Know, they always keep a few instructions in a secret place

There are just so many things how would you ever learn it all, relay it all, forget it all. We are looking for therapist for Mary-Elizabeth. She is going to need to "PROCESS" all of the last five years. I guess this blog will help educate whomever we choose. So that will be easy. I have called all the resources I know and asked for referrals. A very wise individual left a very short part of a message that really sort of explained it all.

"She must be doing this now because this is the first time she has been able to stand it." Okay, we will deal with it now. Not later, not during but NOW.

So wanted: the best Cognitive Behavioral Adolescent Therapist in the greater Seattle area, should accept Boeing insurance.

I Just Hate Surprises

I guess this is not a surprise. I guess we have been talking about it endlessly on how it would happen. It is sort of like pre-parenthood. You are sure that (no matter the knowing look for other parents ) your life will return to normal. Normal never comes. We have all been waiting for the time that Mary-Elizabeth fell apart and began to really deal with being a cancer patient/survivor. Well

SURPRISE!

On Monday we had a big ACCESS appointment. I have yet to know what the letters mean but it is what happens when you are off treatment for two years. The gist of it was that M-E received a list of all her surgeries, treatment chemo drugs and the amounts. She was given a book of side affects. At 16 she heard a discussion about later cancers, thyroid cancer, breast cancer, bladder cancer and her possible lack of fertility.

Monday we had to have Won Ton in Hot Oil Sauce (Two orders). Tuesday she forgot her English books and needed a note. Wednesday she lost her planner and can't find Frankenstein, cried, needed to be tucked into bed, with Tucker and needed me to sing to her... Thursday she is still asleep and unable to face the world.

Well, I always need a plan. I am thinking sleeping in, breakfast, pedicure, a trip to the hardware store and maybe a movie. If that does not work we will try plan B. I will work on that while my toes are being painted.