The Gang

April 9, 2008

Do you remember Fat Albert and his Gang? Not the movie, released in 2004, which was live-action, but the original Saturday morning cartoon from the early 1970's.




If you watch this video clip of the show's opening theme song, you will get a little glimpse of how I have felt recently (note especially the images at the 18-20 second mark). No, I haven't reached the portly proportions of Fat Albert nor the comic genius of Bill Cosby. As a youngster, I would watch the cartoon of the Cosby gang (they were a gang, not a club, back when being a gang wasn't a life-threatening proposition) walking down the sidewalk and just marvel at their motley-ness. Their personalities showed through their gait, and even though they were each unique and also essentially flawed (think about it, their names were Weird Harold, Mush Mouth, and Dumb Donald, to name the ones I can remember), they had each other's backs and had a great time moving through life.

Fast forward to Vickie's life. Every day (usually several times a day) I head down the road with a collection of people and animals. Picture me, with Erin skipping rope, or dribbling a soccer ball, or adorning her hair and clothes with daisy chains and wildflowers she has collected from the road side. Add in Walter, usually wearing a fedora, but sometimes in a bucket hat and my mother, either nattily dressed for work or more casual in yard work duds. Now picture Willie, our two-year old Rhodesian Ridgeback, alternating between racing ahead, leaping after crickets and lizards in the tall grass, and trotting along with the group. Put Uma, our overweight Welsh corgi, into your mental image, short legs completely disproportional to her giant meatloaf shaped body, but always walking with a princess-like prance in her step. Don't forget Luke, our fifteen-year-old yellow lab, who has extreme arthritis and no cartilage left in his rear stifles (knees). He can barely get up and down the road, but he always has an eager look in his eyes and a smile on his face. Round out the picture with Teddy, who at 10 pounds with a shaved body, full-lion mane, and "C"-shaped gait, spends a great deal of time trying not to get stepped on. Sometimes we add the neighbors' weiner dog puppies for a few minutes, and sometimes a weimaraner, sleek but dumb, and her blind-in-one-eye golden retriever buddy join us.

Can you tell why I think of myself as Fat Albert or at least the leader of his gang? A motlier crew I can't imagine, nor can I imagine not having them and not loving them. It's a comic image, yet, it is that image that metaphorically captures the essence of Erin's cancer experience, and perhaps of humanity itself. None of us are perfect. None of us are whole. If we think we are, it's probably an illusion. Instead, we are made up of many others who surround us and support us. We are made up of those we share the road with. . .those willing to be in our gang. Today, I owe a thanks to all of you for being part of The Gang. Thanks for walking down the road with us, even if you're a little ahead or a little behind. . . even if you have your own pace and gait. Remember we're together, and I appreciate it.

Now, for other updates:

I wish I could tell you that Senator Hutchinson has seen the light and signed on to the Conquer Childhood Cancer Act. Not yet. I do appreciate your efforts and hope you are not too fatigued to fight on. Hans Weberling's mom, Lara, went to the effort to create a touching and powerful powerpoint presentation, which I'm sure will be convincing to anyone who views it. I guess the trick is to get someone who matters to take the time (it's only 14 slides). If you have a chance, stop by Han's website. He has just started his sixth and last round of accutane and is nearing the end of treatment. We hope, like his family does, that this will be the final chapter in his face-off with neuroblastoma.

To continue with happy news: The long weekend with Davis and his buddy and co-math major Paul Munger from Portland, Oregon went great. They both got enough to eat and enough sleep. I even caught them working math problems a couple of times. (As a side note, I posted on The Davis Report that Davis had accepted a position as a math intern at the University of Pittsburgh medical school for the summer and wondered if I had any readers from that general area who might be willing to be an emergency contact for him this summer, May 19-July 25. I'm also looking for a similar person or persons in Budapest, Hungary for the fall when he studies abroad, but I'm guessing that's a long shot.)

Erin kept it pretty low key all weekend (forced into a lower key than desired, by her mother, who is trying to create ideal conditions for back healing. This included nixed plans for ice skating at her friend Andy's birthday party. Drat!) She did some rather impressive art for Davis and Paul to take back to their dorms. When I say impressive what I mean is that she used every single marker she owns in each of the 2 ft X 2 ft pieces. I didn't count how many markers she used, but when she laid them out (side by side, not end to end), they stretched across her entire room (I'm guessing about ten feet, maybe twelve).

We culminated the weekend with an outing to the Texas A&M baseball game, where Erin and the other members of the Bryan Honor Choir sang the national anthem. We didn't stay the whole game because we also wanted to take Davis out to dinner for his birthday. We momentarily thought we had made a bad logistical choice of restaurants, since A&M's biggest formal was Saturday night and a generous portion of the couples appeared to have chosen Cenare's as their pre-dance eatery. Luckily, we had a great server, who got our orders through and we didn't end up starving while we waited for our food to clear the kitchen congestion.

Unfortunately, whatever gain we made on Erin's back by avoiding ice skating were undone yesterday, when Erin had to stay seated at her desk most of the day for TAKS testing. No PE. No recess. By the time she got home her back was cramping and grabbing. Kelli, the physical therapist, gave her some pain relief with wet heat, a deep message, and some light stretches, but not enough to clear her for soccer practice last night. With South Texas Cup play approaching on the first weekend of May, Erin rues every moment that she has to sit out (and Erin's parents rue every moment, even the simplest soccer practice, that cancer robs her of).

This weekend promises to be an upbeat one. Aunt Kat and Emma are coming back, even though they just visited. Our mom is hosting a party for her master naturalist group. On Sunday, Erin has her spring piano recital.