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.