03/27/06
Erin attended her first wedding ever this weekend and believe me she took it all in (and approved, by the way). She, Walter, and I ignored the barrels of oil we sacrificed to drive out to west Texas (7.5 hours each way) to take part in the wedding of our baby nephew Mike and his new bride M'Kenzie. Erin pronounced everything "lovely." I slipped up (apparently) and forgot to pack a suitcase for Rosie (Erin's best beloved traveling bear companion). Imagine my embarrassment when Rosie had nothing but a sweatsuit to wear to the ladies' luncheon on Saturday. Erin attempted a quick fix by fabricating a beautiful decorative belt for her, but they were both much aggrieved that there was NOTHING formal for Rosie to wear to the wedding that evening.
Do you believe in divine intervention? If not, this may change your mind. At the luncheon, Erin received an unexpected gift as thanks for taking part in the wedding (she was scheduled to pass out the birdseed for guests to hurl at the departing couple). What present would be a sign of divine intervention? New bear party-wear? Better yet: a $12 gift card at WalMart. A trifecta. A new outfit for Rosie with change leftover for new puppy toys (more about that miracle later) all rolled into a shopping spree at the largest (only?) discount store for miles around. Not just great gifts, but entertainment, too.
The wedding came off without a hitch, and we enjoyed sharing the evening with all our friends and relatives. Erin danced with all of the single and many of the married men and tucked away chocolate-covered strawberries as if they had life-prolonging properties (Hey! Maybe they do. I'll volunteer for the Phase I trial).
Davis, in the meanwhile, like any normal, red-blooded almost eighteen-year old, languished at home, alone. The Vikings played (and won) their last regular season game in Waco Friday night (playoffs start tomorrow at 6:30 against The Woodlands), and although Waco wasn't that far out of the way on our trip west, we really needed to be further down the road than that by game's end. We also couldn't guarantee a timely return on Sunday for him to get his radio show prepped and on the air. So he stayed home (did I mention he was alone?). I have yet to find any telltale signs that herds of teens used our home as a watering hole or that there was a dancing girl reunion in our absence. I really expected much worse given the phone conversation we had Saturday afternoon:
Mom: "Are you more awake than when we talked this morning?"
(I had done the unspeakable and called before 11:00.)
Davis: "Yep. I just got back from helping with the KEOS fundraiser at Half-Priced Books."
Mom: "How did that go?"
Davis: "I found some great vinyl you can get me for my birthday. Maybe we can go there together next week."
Mom: "Sounds good. What do you have lined up for tonight?"
Davis: "The guys and I are going to play pick-up basketball at 4:30. Then, I'm going to grab some dinner and probably watch some college basketball."
Mom: "That's fine. Don't forget to feed the dogs and walk them."
Davis: "No problem."
Mom: "So, what are you going to do until your game?"
(Here's where it starts to get fishy.)
Davis: "Since I have a couple of hours, I thought I'd work on that essay for the scholarship application that's due next week."
Mom (thinking to herself): "Oh sure, it's a beautiful Saturday afternoon, and next week is like next year from a teen's point-of-view. What's he up too?" Then says out loud: "Really? That's the best you can find to do?"
Davis: "Welllll, maybe not."
(I can think of a litany of things he might be considering.)
Mom: "Okay, what are you REALLY going to do?"
Davis: "Come to think of it, I do have something more important."
Mom, bracing herself for the worst: "What?"
Davis: "I think I'll work on my sermon for the Easter Sunrise Service instead."
(Now I'm really chuffed. What unspeakable thing is he thinking of doing if he needs to pull out the big guns and tell his mother he spending the afternoon writing a sermon? I'm onto him now, but I don't let on. Instead, I decide to let him figure out how to make his own bail when he's arrested.)
Mom: "Don't you think the scholarship application is more important? It is for $5000, and the deadline is coming up real fast."
(That ought to confuse him.)
So, I don't really know what he did while we were gone. And that's probably all for the best.
Now, what's all this talk about a puppy? I know. I know. I have on this very page complained about our Corgi who leaks at both ends and does not know the meaning of the words "good manners" and our Yellow Lab who is to the Buenger family budget what the Iraq War is to the federal deficit. Are we really idiotic enough to adopt a third dog? Apparently so. This new pup, To Be Named Later, showed up weekend before last, so skinny he could almost fit through the spokes of Erin's bicycle. We fed him out of compassion, not because we wanted another pet. We spent the next several days enumerating reasons why we shouldn't keep him (a list, by the way that far exceeded the almost empty list of why we should). But he's still here, round puppy belly and all. I'm going to Once Upon a Child this afternoon to look for a child gate so he can stay in the kitchen when we are at work everyday. I know. We're hopeless.
Three additional updates of past entries:
1. Erin will continue to collect cans for another three or four weeks. It's best if you rinse them out first.
2. No lasting effects from the port-removal surgery. The steri-strips should fall off in the next few days and the whole thing will become a memory. The best part (so far) is that when Erin complained of an itchy throat and sniffles this morning, I didn't have to hesitate about taking her temperature. If she had fever, we wouldn't have to head to the hospital for a three-day stay to check for possible infection. She could curl up on the couch with Rosie and nap in between cartoons. As it was she was normal and went to school.
3. I'm too modest to boast about Erin's softball debut last Tuesday, but let's just say that she didn't look like a beginner to me.
What's coming up: Erin will have blood counts done this afternoon. Davis has a first round play-off soccer match tomorrow night in Magnolia against The Woodlands. Go Vikings! Erin has her next softball game on Thursday. Go Panthers! We're hoping Aunt Kat and Emma get to come for a visit really soon. Go Emma! Davis has ForwardFest this Saturday. Go KEOS! Cousin Matt is stopping by for a visit on Sunday afternoon (if he survives ChiliFest). And finally, but maybe most importantly, Erin has a clinic visit in Houston next Monday to get approved for the next round of etoposide. After that I may have to go into hiding, as exams and student projects will flow in steadily until the end of the semester.
Monday, March 27, 2006
Thursday, March 23, 2006
So Much for Port Security
03/23/06
I don't know much about this current "Port Security" issue. I don't know if it's better to hire American firms or British firms or firms headquartered in Dubai. All I can say is that whoever held the contract to secure Erin's port failed miserably and should not be in the running for important contracts at other U.S. ports. Apparently, between noon and 1:00 yesterday, the firm guarding Erin's port fell asleep at the switch, and someone STOLE her entire port. Ask yourself whether you would want that to happen to the Port of Houston. Not very secure I'd say.
Seriously, Erin's portacathectomy went very smoothly. The surgery took a bit less than an hour. She was in recovery about the same amount of time. Except for the drive time (yes, we were part of the diverted traffic around the double eighteen-wheeler crash on Highway 6 yesterday morning and part of afternoon traffic getting home) and the wait time (our surgeon follows the "slow and steady" school of thought on pacing himself which we appreciate because it's highly correlated with meticulous and careful), our day went fairly smoothly. Erin did have the usual post-anesthesia barfies a couple of times and will have tenderness for a few days. Nevertheless, she is thrilled to be rid of her bionic extra.
I have more to catch up on, but it will have to wait. I just wanted to let everyone know that the surgery went fine, we made it home safely (no slumber party with the nurses at TCH), and Erin returned to school first thing this morning.
I don't know much about this current "Port Security" issue. I don't know if it's better to hire American firms or British firms or firms headquartered in Dubai. All I can say is that whoever held the contract to secure Erin's port failed miserably and should not be in the running for important contracts at other U.S. ports. Apparently, between noon and 1:00 yesterday, the firm guarding Erin's port fell asleep at the switch, and someone STOLE her entire port. Ask yourself whether you would want that to happen to the Port of Houston. Not very secure I'd say.
Seriously, Erin's portacathectomy went very smoothly. The surgery took a bit less than an hour. She was in recovery about the same amount of time. Except for the drive time (yes, we were part of the diverted traffic around the double eighteen-wheeler crash on Highway 6 yesterday morning and part of afternoon traffic getting home) and the wait time (our surgeon follows the "slow and steady" school of thought on pacing himself which we appreciate because it's highly correlated with meticulous and careful), our day went fairly smoothly. Erin did have the usual post-anesthesia barfies a couple of times and will have tenderness for a few days. Nevertheless, she is thrilled to be rid of her bionic extra.
I have more to catch up on, but it will have to wait. I just wanted to let everyone know that the surgery went fine, we made it home safely (no slumber party with the nurses at TCH), and Erin returned to school first thing this morning.
Saturday, March 18, 2006
Spring Break News
03/18/06
Happy belated St. Paddy's Day to all of you wearers of the green. We received big news yesterday. Erin will have surgery next Wednesday (3/22) to remove her PortaCath. She had this device placed in her chest, below her left shoulder late last April, so she could have monthly IV chemo through it. While having a needle stuck in her chest wasn't her first choice, it beat having a fresh IV started every day during treatment. Erin hasn't used her port since the week before Christmas, except (and here's one reason why she having it removed) that it has to be accessed and flushed once a month when she's not using it to keep it clear and functioning. Another factor is, that as long as she has a mechanical device installed, she has to be very wary of fevers. A fever buys a three-day stay in the hospital, because of the risk of infection. We have been lucky on this one (except for last May), but removing the port will also remove that particular worry from our plate.
We have no idea how long Erin will be able to go without a port. Currently, she takes her chemo by mouth and can do weekly blood counts with a finger stick. Even when she needs to have IV access for scans, she prefers a temporary line in her hand or arm. The neuroblastoma could rev up and get more aggressive, which would mean a trip back to the surgery for re-installation, so we could pursue more aggressive treatment. Still, Erin's doctor and I think the oral etoposide will hold her long enough to make this decision worthwhile.
Spring break is drawing to a close for all of us. Although we didn't go on any backpacking adventures, skiing holidays, or cruises, we managed to have a good time. I hope you did the same.
For all you can collectors: Erin and her class will continue to collect cans through most of April, so let me know if you have some to contribute.
Happy belated St. Paddy's Day to all of you wearers of the green. We received big news yesterday. Erin will have surgery next Wednesday (3/22) to remove her PortaCath. She had this device placed in her chest, below her left shoulder late last April, so she could have monthly IV chemo through it. While having a needle stuck in her chest wasn't her first choice, it beat having a fresh IV started every day during treatment. Erin hasn't used her port since the week before Christmas, except (and here's one reason why she having it removed) that it has to be accessed and flushed once a month when she's not using it to keep it clear and functioning. Another factor is, that as long as she has a mechanical device installed, she has to be very wary of fevers. A fever buys a three-day stay in the hospital, because of the risk of infection. We have been lucky on this one (except for last May), but removing the port will also remove that particular worry from our plate.
We have no idea how long Erin will be able to go without a port. Currently, she takes her chemo by mouth and can do weekly blood counts with a finger stick. Even when she needs to have IV access for scans, she prefers a temporary line in her hand or arm. The neuroblastoma could rev up and get more aggressive, which would mean a trip back to the surgery for re-installation, so we could pursue more aggressive treatment. Still, Erin's doctor and I think the oral etoposide will hold her long enough to make this decision worthwhile.
Spring break is drawing to a close for all of us. Although we didn't go on any backpacking adventures, skiing holidays, or cruises, we managed to have a good time. I hope you did the same.
For all you can collectors: Erin and her class will continue to collect cans through most of April, so let me know if you have some to contribute.
Friday, March 10, 2006
03/10/06
Before I forget, just like last year, Erin is collecting aluminum cans as one of her class's fund raising efforts for Relay for Life. Let me know if you need us to stop by and pick yours up or whether you want to hand them off to us when we see each other. Only constraint? Rinse them out first so they don't attract bugs and vermin sitting around at Erin's school.
I have not given you the play by play for the month of March. At this point I don't remember it all (lost in the haze of worry and celebration). We are all excited about catching our breaths during spring break next week. Erin's soccer season will wind to a close on Saturday, and with it will come my retirement as coach. We have had a good run, and the team has played extremely well lately. Might as well go out on a high note. Erin's season is ending just in time. She is trying a new sport, fastpitch softball (Loren are you reading?). She said fielding grounders was just like being goalie, except the ball comes from a lot further away (and I wanted to add, it is smaller, harder, and struck more sharply by a bat).
Davis's regular season has another couple of weeks. At this point, his team is in third, and the playoffs look a bit iffy. We'll see what happens. In the meantime, he's having almost as much fun playing three or four pick-up basketball games each week with his buddies, getting ready for the school's intramural season that starts in April. It doesn't matter that when he was a lad he was completely indifferent to basketball and complained when we signed him up to play every winter. Now, it's our fault that we didn't encourage basketball enough. Oh well.
Before I return to grading those stacks of midterm exams and projects that are waiting for me on my desk, I do have one story that may illustrate the strain caused by the run up to scans this time: It is a Vickie Funny.
Last Sunday was a busy day for the Buengers. I made waffles to get us off to a good start, then as usual Walter and I taught Sunday School and the family went out to lunch. After lunch, I straightened Erin's room enough so that I could pack her stuff for the trip down to Houston, threw some of my gear in too (having been reminded by Erin at least three times to bring both pieces of my bathing suit), and found a couple of "horse"-themed songs for Davis's special set that evening. We then trotted off to OPAS, jr. to see a Broadway-themed presentation. After that we loaded up the car and slipped into our soccer gear (did I mention it was a busy day?) for my Sunday afternoon pickup game. After an hour and a half of sweat, I packed Erin and Nico into the car and headed to the Marriott. I had only one thing on my mind: HOT TUB.
We made it to Houston, checked in, and headed to the pool. Uh oh. The pool was open, but there was that yellow crime scene tape that says "CAUTION" around one end of the hot tub. I watch the kids swim for a while, worked a Sudoku, and pondered my situation. We were the only ones there. I had been running on high speed for days, maybe weeks. My back still ached. I wondered over and touched the water. It was very warm. . .and. . .inviting. It didn't look broke. I knew I shouldn't break the rules, especially in front of law-abiding third graders. Still, what harm would come? I stepped in and sat down. I didn't start the hydrojets. I just lolled in the hot water. . .until the hotel security detachment came into the pool area:
Hotel Security Officer: "Why are you in the hot tub? Can't you see it's closed?"
Vickie: "No sir. I saw the cones that said WET FLOOR and the tape that said CAUTION, so I got in as cautiously as I could."
Hotel Security Officer: "Well, the hot tube is obviously closed."
Vickie: "Oh. Why? It seems perfectly fine from here."
Hotel Security Officer: "There is an engineering problem. You'll have to get out."
Vickie: "Okay."
End of story, almost. We went up and got ready for bed. I fell asleep before Nico and Erin had finished reading, but they kindly waked me up so I could turn out the lights at 10:15. I went back to sleep easily, but not permanently. You see, the night anxiety pricked at me, poked at me, and finally shook me out of my slumbers. I woke up repeatedly, with worries racing through my brain that I couldn't shake. Not about Erin, though. Somehow, by that point, I had put Erin's scans behind me. I knew in my heart that everything was going to be fine on Monday. Her health was too robust to ignore.
No, the dragon looming over me was the hot tub. What if it wasn't an "engineering" problem? What if it was a seething cauldron of contaminated nastiness? What if it contained flesh-eating bacteria, multiple strains of STD, or the ebola virus? The more I thought of the possibilities, the less I was able to put it out of my mind and the more my skin crawled with itchiness and discomfort. I got up and scrubbed all my body parts, paying particular attention to my nether regions, and considered litigation options for my suit against the Marriott Corp. for saying "engineering" when they really meant "toxic waste." Finally, after tossing and turning for some long time, I fell back asleep.
When I woke up with the alarm, I was still alive, and sort of shocked that I hadn't been carted off in the night by EMT's risking their life to save mine. So, off we went to keep Erin's schedule: six appointments in six hours. And you know the rest. We will be fine for another three months. That is unless the health department investigates, and I get carried off as Exhibit A.
Before I forget, just like last year, Erin is collecting aluminum cans as one of her class's fund raising efforts for Relay for Life. Let me know if you need us to stop by and pick yours up or whether you want to hand them off to us when we see each other. Only constraint? Rinse them out first so they don't attract bugs and vermin sitting around at Erin's school.
I have not given you the play by play for the month of March. At this point I don't remember it all (lost in the haze of worry and celebration). We are all excited about catching our breaths during spring break next week. Erin's soccer season will wind to a close on Saturday, and with it will come my retirement as coach. We have had a good run, and the team has played extremely well lately. Might as well go out on a high note. Erin's season is ending just in time. She is trying a new sport, fastpitch softball (Loren are you reading?). She said fielding grounders was just like being goalie, except the ball comes from a lot further away (and I wanted to add, it is smaller, harder, and struck more sharply by a bat).
Davis's regular season has another couple of weeks. At this point, his team is in third, and the playoffs look a bit iffy. We'll see what happens. In the meantime, he's having almost as much fun playing three or four pick-up basketball games each week with his buddies, getting ready for the school's intramural season that starts in April. It doesn't matter that when he was a lad he was completely indifferent to basketball and complained when we signed him up to play every winter. Now, it's our fault that we didn't encourage basketball enough. Oh well.
Before I return to grading those stacks of midterm exams and projects that are waiting for me on my desk, I do have one story that may illustrate the strain caused by the run up to scans this time: It is a Vickie Funny.
Last Sunday was a busy day for the Buengers. I made waffles to get us off to a good start, then as usual Walter and I taught Sunday School and the family went out to lunch. After lunch, I straightened Erin's room enough so that I could pack her stuff for the trip down to Houston, threw some of my gear in too (having been reminded by Erin at least three times to bring both pieces of my bathing suit), and found a couple of "horse"-themed songs for Davis's special set that evening. We then trotted off to OPAS, jr. to see a Broadway-themed presentation. After that we loaded up the car and slipped into our soccer gear (did I mention it was a busy day?) for my Sunday afternoon pickup game. After an hour and a half of sweat, I packed Erin and Nico into the car and headed to the Marriott. I had only one thing on my mind: HOT TUB.
We made it to Houston, checked in, and headed to the pool. Uh oh. The pool was open, but there was that yellow crime scene tape that says "CAUTION" around one end of the hot tub. I watch the kids swim for a while, worked a Sudoku, and pondered my situation. We were the only ones there. I had been running on high speed for days, maybe weeks. My back still ached. I wondered over and touched the water. It was very warm. . .and. . .inviting. It didn't look broke. I knew I shouldn't break the rules, especially in front of law-abiding third graders. Still, what harm would come? I stepped in and sat down. I didn't start the hydrojets. I just lolled in the hot water. . .until the hotel security detachment came into the pool area:
Hotel Security Officer: "Why are you in the hot tub? Can't you see it's closed?"
Vickie: "No sir. I saw the cones that said WET FLOOR and the tape that said CAUTION, so I got in as cautiously as I could."
Hotel Security Officer: "Well, the hot tube is obviously closed."
Vickie: "Oh. Why? It seems perfectly fine from here."
Hotel Security Officer: "There is an engineering problem. You'll have to get out."
Vickie: "Okay."
End of story, almost. We went up and got ready for bed. I fell asleep before Nico and Erin had finished reading, but they kindly waked me up so I could turn out the lights at 10:15. I went back to sleep easily, but not permanently. You see, the night anxiety pricked at me, poked at me, and finally shook me out of my slumbers. I woke up repeatedly, with worries racing through my brain that I couldn't shake. Not about Erin, though. Somehow, by that point, I had put Erin's scans behind me. I knew in my heart that everything was going to be fine on Monday. Her health was too robust to ignore.
No, the dragon looming over me was the hot tub. What if it wasn't an "engineering" problem? What if it was a seething cauldron of contaminated nastiness? What if it contained flesh-eating bacteria, multiple strains of STD, or the ebola virus? The more I thought of the possibilities, the less I was able to put it out of my mind and the more my skin crawled with itchiness and discomfort. I got up and scrubbed all my body parts, paying particular attention to my nether regions, and considered litigation options for my suit against the Marriott Corp. for saying "engineering" when they really meant "toxic waste." Finally, after tossing and turning for some long time, I fell back asleep.
When I woke up with the alarm, I was still alive, and sort of shocked that I hadn't been carted off in the night by EMT's risking their life to save mine. So, off we went to keep Erin's schedule: six appointments in six hours. And you know the rest. We will be fine for another three months. That is unless the health department investigates, and I get carried off as Exhibit A.
Tuesday, March 7, 2006
Good, But Quick, News
3/07/06
This is going to be quick because I need to get out and start celebrating. Dr. Russell called this morning about ten minutes before my first class with the news that Erin's CT scan continues to be stable after these first two rounds of oral etoposide AND that her bone scan looked the best it has looked since before the mystery tumor showed up on her spine a year and a half ago. I think she used the word "normal."
Those of you closest to me realize that this was the news I wanted, but wasn't really expecting to get. I have sooo enjoyed the past two months--no clinic visits, no IV chemo, no side effects--that I guess I was just waiting for the other shoe to fall. I would look at Erin everyday and see her apple cheeks, her healthy appetite, and her pants looking a bit short, and I would discount all of that evidence that things were going well, and instead concentrate on every ache and pain and any little complaint that came out of her mouth. Well, that's behind me. Erin has the go ahead to take three more rounds of oral etoposide before she scans again, and I want to enjoy every moment.
I have to hit the road now. Erin has horseback riding right after school, and Davis has a game tonight with crosstown rival Consol. I will try to fill in the details of the past week, including the 7-1 win in Erin's game last weekend tomorrow or Thursday. In the meantime, don't take anything for granted. I'm not.
This is going to be quick because I need to get out and start celebrating. Dr. Russell called this morning about ten minutes before my first class with the news that Erin's CT scan continues to be stable after these first two rounds of oral etoposide AND that her bone scan looked the best it has looked since before the mystery tumor showed up on her spine a year and a half ago. I think she used the word "normal."
Those of you closest to me realize that this was the news I wanted, but wasn't really expecting to get. I have sooo enjoyed the past two months--no clinic visits, no IV chemo, no side effects--that I guess I was just waiting for the other shoe to fall. I would look at Erin everyday and see her apple cheeks, her healthy appetite, and her pants looking a bit short, and I would discount all of that evidence that things were going well, and instead concentrate on every ache and pain and any little complaint that came out of her mouth. Well, that's behind me. Erin has the go ahead to take three more rounds of oral etoposide before she scans again, and I want to enjoy every moment.
I have to hit the road now. Erin has horseback riding right after school, and Davis has a game tonight with crosstown rival Consol. I will try to fill in the details of the past week, including the 7-1 win in Erin's game last weekend tomorrow or Thursday. In the meantime, don't take anything for granted. I'm not.
Tuesday, February 28, 2006
"Erin" Moments
02/28/06
Whew! It was one of those weekends. We rolled right from back-to-back soccer games Thursday and Friday into a social scene whose pace resembled the Debutante Season in the Hamptons. Erin's local buddy, Abby, had their out-of-town buddy, Ayesha, in for the weekend, and (I'm not really sure how this happened) they all had a sleepover at my house Friday night after cheering Davis's team on to a 4-0 win.
Luckily, Erin's Saturday mornings match was rained out, leaving just enough time for Abby and Ayesha to slip off to Jackson's basketball game, while Erin dropped by a couple of parties (Mrs. Helen's 90th birthday party and baby Aster's, welcome-to-the family party) before meeting back up with the gang (plus Tinka) at the movies to see the new Pink Panther show. Jackson caught up with them all later at Abby's where they succesfully drove Abby's big sister crazy until the party broke up about 8:30.
Sunday morning we were reminded that the sun can and will shine in late February! Erin, Nico, Adam and the rest of the children's choir sang the prelude at the beginning of the service, and their lovely sopranos filled the fellowship hall. After church we continued our search for a replacement for Gina's. We are honing in on Taqueria Arandas, where we have enjoyed several tasty lunches, but it's not too late to sway us to some other choice if you have a favorite. We all pitched in after that to get the house straight for Walter, who was meeting with his Executive Committee at our house in secret deliberations first thing on Monday. Then, lest we be tempted to spoil the pristine look of the house, Erin and I headed to the park for pickup soccer.
Last night the Hammerheads played one of the best games of their career. . .fifty minutes of intensity that never boiled over nor cooled off. I can hardly believe how much progress these kids have made in the six seasons Davis and I have coached them. It also left me feeling wistful in many ways. For one, I realized that Davis has grown into a beautiful young man. He prowled the sidelines, dropping just the right word of encouragement, making adjustments, gently correcting the players--coaching in every sense of the word. Still, we have only two more games to coach together. The season will end. He'll start working soon, then leave for college in August. Our shared coaching moments--deciding line-ups, chewing over what to do to eke more progress out of our team, celebrating the big and small wins--are numbered. He will move on, as it should be.
The other wistful feelings came from watching Erin play. Everyone else saw one tough girl, taking on any and all opponents coming at her with the ball. She challenged and stripped the ball away, repeatedly. She played every minute and saved numerous goals. She was with her friends. She depended on them. They on her. They needed each other to play like they played. But I looked on and saw something else. I saw a girl with cancer, who might not always feel as well as she felt last night. In fact, with scans coming up next Monday, the old paranoia started creeping in and clouding my view. Erin has had an achy back for a couple of days. It doesn't matter that it hasn't slowed her down (re-read everything up to here, if you have doubts). It doesn't matter that I also have an achy back, and that both Walter and my mother have had flu-like illnesses in the past week. I looked at her and thought the worst: what if the oral chemo isn't working? What if her tumor is progressing? What if this is her last game? Wistful doesn't mean depressed. It doesn't even really mean sad. Mostly, it meant just a great mixture of emotions. . .great pride, great love, great anger that I had thoughts that would taint the moment, AND great hope that I am wrong. . . That I get to see many more triumphant "Erin" moments, on the field and off.
Whew! It was one of those weekends. We rolled right from back-to-back soccer games Thursday and Friday into a social scene whose pace resembled the Debutante Season in the Hamptons. Erin's local buddy, Abby, had their out-of-town buddy, Ayesha, in for the weekend, and (I'm not really sure how this happened) they all had a sleepover at my house Friday night after cheering Davis's team on to a 4-0 win.
Luckily, Erin's Saturday mornings match was rained out, leaving just enough time for Abby and Ayesha to slip off to Jackson's basketball game, while Erin dropped by a couple of parties (Mrs. Helen's 90th birthday party and baby Aster's, welcome-to-the family party) before meeting back up with the gang (plus Tinka) at the movies to see the new Pink Panther show. Jackson caught up with them all later at Abby's where they succesfully drove Abby's big sister crazy until the party broke up about 8:30.
Sunday morning we were reminded that the sun can and will shine in late February! Erin, Nico, Adam and the rest of the children's choir sang the prelude at the beginning of the service, and their lovely sopranos filled the fellowship hall. After church we continued our search for a replacement for Gina's. We are honing in on Taqueria Arandas, where we have enjoyed several tasty lunches, but it's not too late to sway us to some other choice if you have a favorite. We all pitched in after that to get the house straight for Walter, who was meeting with his Executive Committee at our house in secret deliberations first thing on Monday. Then, lest we be tempted to spoil the pristine look of the house, Erin and I headed to the park for pickup soccer.
Last night the Hammerheads played one of the best games of their career. . .fifty minutes of intensity that never boiled over nor cooled off. I can hardly believe how much progress these kids have made in the six seasons Davis and I have coached them. It also left me feeling wistful in many ways. For one, I realized that Davis has grown into a beautiful young man. He prowled the sidelines, dropping just the right word of encouragement, making adjustments, gently correcting the players--coaching in every sense of the word. Still, we have only two more games to coach together. The season will end. He'll start working soon, then leave for college in August. Our shared coaching moments--deciding line-ups, chewing over what to do to eke more progress out of our team, celebrating the big and small wins--are numbered. He will move on, as it should be.
The other wistful feelings came from watching Erin play. Everyone else saw one tough girl, taking on any and all opponents coming at her with the ball. She challenged and stripped the ball away, repeatedly. She played every minute and saved numerous goals. She was with her friends. She depended on them. They on her. They needed each other to play like they played. But I looked on and saw something else. I saw a girl with cancer, who might not always feel as well as she felt last night. In fact, with scans coming up next Monday, the old paranoia started creeping in and clouding my view. Erin has had an achy back for a couple of days. It doesn't matter that it hasn't slowed her down (re-read everything up to here, if you have doubts). It doesn't matter that I also have an achy back, and that both Walter and my mother have had flu-like illnesses in the past week. I looked at her and thought the worst: what if the oral chemo isn't working? What if her tumor is progressing? What if this is her last game? Wistful doesn't mean depressed. It doesn't even really mean sad. Mostly, it meant just a great mixture of emotions. . .great pride, great love, great anger that I had thoughts that would taint the moment, AND great hope that I am wrong. . . That I get to see many more triumphant "Erin" moments, on the field and off.
Friday, February 24, 2006
Sponsor?
02/24/06
Erin has a special request. She is looking for individuals or businesses to help sponsor her third-grade class in Relay for Life this spring. When they decide how they are planning to raise money, I will let you know, but right now she is concentrating on finding people who will donate enough (total around $100) so that all 19 of her classmates can participate on her team and receive Relay t-shirts (that's $5.00) per student. Erin is worried that someone in her class might not have $5.00, and she doesn't want anyone to be left out. So, if you or your business would like to sponsor or partially sponsor her class's entry fee, let me know.
Erin has a special request. She is looking for individuals or businesses to help sponsor her third-grade class in Relay for Life this spring. When they decide how they are planning to raise money, I will let you know, but right now she is concentrating on finding people who will donate enough (total around $100) so that all 19 of her classmates can participate on her team and receive Relay t-shirts (that's $5.00) per student. Erin is worried that someone in her class might not have $5.00, and she doesn't want anyone to be left out. So, if you or your business would like to sponsor or partially sponsor her class's entry fee, let me know.
Thursday, February 23, 2006
Normal for a Normal Person
02/23/06
We are successfully beating back the poison ivy! Erin looks close to normal and is not scratching her face raw. Even better, the prednisone beast has not reared its ugly head, yet (I hope I haven't jinxed myself here). Perhaps best, Erin's counts on Day 10 of this chemo cycle are ALL normal, for a normal person:
White Blood Count--6500 (normal, even for a regular person)
Absolute Neutrophil Count--5100 (normal, even for a regular person)
Hemoglobin--11.9 (low normal, for a regular person, BUT it's been a long time since we hit that milestone. BTW, she is still saying "More Steak")
Platelets--334,000 (right smack in the middle of normal, for a regular person)
The weather has cooperated enough to let both Davis and Erin back on to the field. The high school lost in Temple Tuesday night, but Davis had a solid game (half at full back and half at stopper). Erin picks back up tonight at 6:00. It's been so long I hope everyone remembers.
We are successfully beating back the poison ivy! Erin looks close to normal and is not scratching her face raw. Even better, the prednisone beast has not reared its ugly head, yet (I hope I haven't jinxed myself here). Perhaps best, Erin's counts on Day 10 of this chemo cycle are ALL normal, for a normal person:
White Blood Count--6500 (normal, even for a regular person)
Absolute Neutrophil Count--5100 (normal, even for a regular person)
Hemoglobin--11.9 (low normal, for a regular person, BUT it's been a long time since we hit that milestone. BTW, she is still saying "More Steak")
Platelets--334,000 (right smack in the middle of normal, for a regular person)
The weather has cooperated enough to let both Davis and Erin back on to the field. The high school lost in Temple Tuesday night, but Davis had a solid game (half at full back and half at stopper). Erin picks back up tonight at 6:00. It's been so long I hope everyone remembers.
Monday, February 20, 2006
Imagine a Raspberry
02/20/06
Imagine a raspberry as big as a medium pumpkin. Add peach fuzz. And some freckles. You now have a mental image of Erin, as she is currently configured. That's right the endless jaunts through the woods this winter have finally taken their toll, and Erin finds herself with a raging case of poison ivy. The itchy rash is confined to her head, neck, and face (since she has dutifully taken the precaution of wearing long pants and sleeves as she has tromped around), but it is pretty deep down her ears and dangerously close to her eyes. She will go (back) on prednisone and a prescriptive antihistamine tonight (Lord, please protect me from Prednisone Rage and let there be enough acceptable food in the pantry to satisfy her.).
This rash started Friday evening, about the time we arrived in Dallas. We kept it at bay throughout the weekend festivities with over-the-counter antihistamines and topicals and proceeded to celebrate Emma's first birthday with style and verve. For her part, Emma did the mandatory "Cake Grab and Smear" as if she had been practicing for weeks which made the whole trip worthwhile. By the time we made it back to Bryan through what passes in Texas as a Big Winter Storm," Erin's tolerance for itchiness was waning quickly.
It was another vet/doc day this morning. Uma already had an 8:30 appointment for her annual exam and shots, and I couldn't immediately get in at Erin's pediatrician, so the dog got treated first. . .again. Erin finally made it to school by 11:00, and everyone started absent-mindedly scratching random body parts just looking at her. Fortunately, the school has a ready supply of cool, damp paper towels for relief, which I had confirmed in an e-mail with her teacher Mrs. Jennifer Steen who wrote to assure me that they wouldn't run out: "cold, wet paper towels are actually a miracle drug in 3rd grade - they cure headaches, stomach aches, hurt ankles and elbows, loose teeth...." Having some experience with drug companies, I wouldn't want this information to get out or the price of those rough, brown folded towelettes would soar.
Anyway, as miserable as Erin feels, I am relieved that we have a poison ivy diagnosis. When she started to break out in a head rash, I had Walter scour the information we had on etoposide (you know, that long list of indications and side effects printed in devilishly small print on tissue-thin paper and folded twenty-two times and stuffed inside the drug package). Rash was listed as a rare side effect, leading me to immediately jump to the conclusion that I was witnessing an unpalatable side effect of this drug that we really hope works because it is so easy to administer and tolerate. I didn't want to have to make the decision about whether to let her itch and look raspberryish and continue taking the chemo, or to discontinue and move to something else. At least with a poison ivy diagnosis, we can make the etoposide decision based on its efficacy against the tumor, rather than whether we can live with the side effects.
Imagine a raspberry as big as a medium pumpkin. Add peach fuzz. And some freckles. You now have a mental image of Erin, as she is currently configured. That's right the endless jaunts through the woods this winter have finally taken their toll, and Erin finds herself with a raging case of poison ivy. The itchy rash is confined to her head, neck, and face (since she has dutifully taken the precaution of wearing long pants and sleeves as she has tromped around), but it is pretty deep down her ears and dangerously close to her eyes. She will go (back) on prednisone and a prescriptive antihistamine tonight (Lord, please protect me from Prednisone Rage and let there be enough acceptable food in the pantry to satisfy her.).
This rash started Friday evening, about the time we arrived in Dallas. We kept it at bay throughout the weekend festivities with over-the-counter antihistamines and topicals and proceeded to celebrate Emma's first birthday with style and verve. For her part, Emma did the mandatory "Cake Grab and Smear" as if she had been practicing for weeks which made the whole trip worthwhile. By the time we made it back to Bryan through what passes in Texas as a Big Winter Storm," Erin's tolerance for itchiness was waning quickly.
It was another vet/doc day this morning. Uma already had an 8:30 appointment for her annual exam and shots, and I couldn't immediately get in at Erin's pediatrician, so the dog got treated first. . .again. Erin finally made it to school by 11:00, and everyone started absent-mindedly scratching random body parts just looking at her. Fortunately, the school has a ready supply of cool, damp paper towels for relief, which I had confirmed in an e-mail with her teacher Mrs. Jennifer Steen who wrote to assure me that they wouldn't run out: "cold, wet paper towels are actually a miracle drug in 3rd grade - they cure headaches, stomach aches, hurt ankles and elbows, loose teeth...." Having some experience with drug companies, I wouldn't want this information to get out or the price of those rough, brown folded towelettes would soar.
Anyway, as miserable as Erin feels, I am relieved that we have a poison ivy diagnosis. When she started to break out in a head rash, I had Walter scour the information we had on etoposide (you know, that long list of indications and side effects printed in devilishly small print on tissue-thin paper and folded twenty-two times and stuffed inside the drug package). Rash was listed as a rare side effect, leading me to immediately jump to the conclusion that I was witnessing an unpalatable side effect of this drug that we really hope works because it is so easy to administer and tolerate. I didn't want to have to make the decision about whether to let her itch and look raspberryish and continue taking the chemo, or to discontinue and move to something else. At least with a poison ivy diagnosis, we can make the etoposide decision based on its efficacy against the tumor, rather than whether we can live with the side effects.
Wednesday, February 15, 2006
A Life Full of Soccer and What Not
02/15/06
What better way to warm-up and train for the World Cup? ABC has promised to air all 63 games played over a 30 day period this summer, and I hope you have a plan to get ready. For our part, Walter and I will be watching (LIVE, of course) Erin or Davis play in nine matches in the twelve days between February 17 and February 28 (we are taking Wednesday and both Sundays off--although since I play pick up soccer on Sundays, maybe those days should go in the total). This does not count the ones we sat through yesterday and Monday. During our marathon, we will concentrate on building our stamina through conditioning and also work on building an appropriate repertoire of cheers and insults, as all good fans should.
For those who have written to ask whether I let Erin in the goal or not, I have to say, not yet. Last Saturday's game was rained out, and I didn't trust our opponents on Monday to "play nice." We scored more against that team than the previous three seasons combined--three really pretty goals, including drawing first blood--but still got shellacked. Davis's team has posted back-to-back wins in district, including a squeaker over cross-town rival A&M Consolidated.
Enough about soccer, how is Erin doing? The course of antibiotics seems to have squelched the ear infection (we will check at the pediatrician's later this afternoon), but thick cedar pollen everywhere has guaranteed that she will continue sniffling for a while. She is handling this round of chemo, just like last time--no problemo.
Erin skipped Davis's game last Friday to spend the night with Jackson. I heard they started agitating to go hiking Saturday morning about 6:30 (having stayed up past midnight). Shirlene finally relented about 8:00. It might have been warm enough to hike and bike at that point, but by noon, as we sat at the A&M baseball game, we were a-shivering. We lasted until the sixth, then headed home to warm up. Brilliant decision on my part. We were still ahead at that point, and we didn't have to stay until the bottom of the 13th to see the next time A&M would take the lead.
Walter and I celebrated the 23rd anniversary of our first date on Monday night. Over the years, I have been happy that we could celebrate Valentine's a day early, both because it let us celebrate on our own terms and also because it has been easier to get a babysitter. One of my students told me his anniversary was February 15, which came with the same two benefits, plus the option of buying candy and flowers at a deep discount after the big day. I had to laugh out loud about that one.
Speaking of anniversaries, we received the great news earlier this week that our beloved third nephew, Michael, was going to get married next month so that he can start celebrating anniversaries along with the rest of us old married folks. Welcome to the family, Mackenzie! Lamesa, here we come.
Erin is scheduled to have blood tests this afternoon after school (no big deal) and also to have her port flushed (ouch). I think we'll hang out at the park for a while first to get into the right mood. Sorry to tell all of you reading from colder climes, but it is 74 and beautiful here today, with a predicted high tomorrow of 81. We'll take advantage of those unseasonable temperatures before we head out to Dallas this weekend for Emma's first birthday party. The predicted high there on Saturday is 37 F with rain.
What better way to warm-up and train for the World Cup? ABC has promised to air all 63 games played over a 30 day period this summer, and I hope you have a plan to get ready. For our part, Walter and I will be watching (LIVE, of course) Erin or Davis play in nine matches in the twelve days between February 17 and February 28 (we are taking Wednesday and both Sundays off--although since I play pick up soccer on Sundays, maybe those days should go in the total). This does not count the ones we sat through yesterday and Monday. During our marathon, we will concentrate on building our stamina through conditioning and also work on building an appropriate repertoire of cheers and insults, as all good fans should.
For those who have written to ask whether I let Erin in the goal or not, I have to say, not yet. Last Saturday's game was rained out, and I didn't trust our opponents on Monday to "play nice." We scored more against that team than the previous three seasons combined--three really pretty goals, including drawing first blood--but still got shellacked. Davis's team has posted back-to-back wins in district, including a squeaker over cross-town rival A&M Consolidated.
Enough about soccer, how is Erin doing? The course of antibiotics seems to have squelched the ear infection (we will check at the pediatrician's later this afternoon), but thick cedar pollen everywhere has guaranteed that she will continue sniffling for a while. She is handling this round of chemo, just like last time--no problemo.
Erin skipped Davis's game last Friday to spend the night with Jackson. I heard they started agitating to go hiking Saturday morning about 6:30 (having stayed up past midnight). Shirlene finally relented about 8:00. It might have been warm enough to hike and bike at that point, but by noon, as we sat at the A&M baseball game, we were a-shivering. We lasted until the sixth, then headed home to warm up. Brilliant decision on my part. We were still ahead at that point, and we didn't have to stay until the bottom of the 13th to see the next time A&M would take the lead.
Walter and I celebrated the 23rd anniversary of our first date on Monday night. Over the years, I have been happy that we could celebrate Valentine's a day early, both because it let us celebrate on our own terms and also because it has been easier to get a babysitter. One of my students told me his anniversary was February 15, which came with the same two benefits, plus the option of buying candy and flowers at a deep discount after the big day. I had to laugh out loud about that one.
Speaking of anniversaries, we received the great news earlier this week that our beloved third nephew, Michael, was going to get married next month so that he can start celebrating anniversaries along with the rest of us old married folks. Welcome to the family, Mackenzie! Lamesa, here we come.
Erin is scheduled to have blood tests this afternoon after school (no big deal) and also to have her port flushed (ouch). I think we'll hang out at the park for a while first to get into the right mood. Sorry to tell all of you reading from colder climes, but it is 74 and beautiful here today, with a predicted high tomorrow of 81. We'll take advantage of those unseasonable temperatures before we head out to Dallas this weekend for Emma's first birthday party. The predicted high there on Saturday is 37 F with rain.
Friday, February 10, 2006
In the Goal?
02/10/06
As promised, here's a bit more detail. Our day in Houston yesterday (eight hours) stretched out longer than it needed to because of ungodly traffic (going and coming) and a long wait in clinic. But, as I already mentioned, the trip was worth the wait. Dr. Russell thought Erin looked fabulous, bragged about her blood numbers over the month, and signed her up for another round of etoposide. We have scans scheduled the first week of March, and at that point we will know more about how this is working. Right before she left to return to the OR, Erin remembered to ask Dr. Russell the question she had been holding in her heart for the past couple of weeks.
Erin: "Can I play in the goal now?"
Dr. Russell: "Can you play where?"
Erin: "Can I play goalkeeper in soccer now?"
Mom/coach sucks in her breath and hopes for "no." (Parents really don't relish watching their children slapping down sharply struck balls headed straight for their face or other key body parts--especially if they have a catheter embedded under their skin in their chest).
Dr. Russell (with no hesitation): "Sure."
Mom/coach: choking noises.
Dr. Russell: "What's the worst that can happen? It breaks under her skin and floats in her bloodstream down to her heart."
Mom/coach: more choking noises, perhaps chest pain, too. Can't tell whether it's real or sympathetic.
Dr. Russell: "Sorry. Just kidding. That wouldn't happen. If it breaks, she would have to have it removed. . . Erin, try to keep your hands up in the goal, for your mother's sake. See you in a month."
Erin dances a jig.
To backtrack a little, last weekend was quite a spectacle. Davis played soccer on Friday and we got to bed late only to hop up at 4:45 to catch his ride to Houston for the state chess tournament. He had mixed play on Saturday, taking out his first two opponents relatively easily, than losing a marathon to a very highly rated player in round three. By his fourth matchup (6:00 p.m.) he was out of soap, and lost a match he probably should have won. Instead of retreating to bed, he ate, regrouped, and entered the Bughouse Tournament. If you have never heard of Bughouse, I probably can't explain it adequtely--it's chess with two players playing two other players on two board. Any pieces you capture you can give to your partner to place on his board. As you might imagine, things move very quickly and chaotically. Davis and his partner, Spencer Kendrick, ended up winning alot--enough for a second place finish and a three-foot trophy! If that wasn't enough, Davis really got after it on Sunday and won both matches he played. He had to take a bye in the final round to make it back to Bryan for Beyond Guitar, but his play was enough to secure a medal at state and a 13th place finish for the team (not bad for a team that has only three members, compared to other teams that brought ten or fifteen players).
In the meanwhile, the rest of us moved at a little more leisurely, but no less enjoyable pace. We had a grand time with Mark and Liz, and Erin discovered a kindred spirit in the lovely Liz, who took the time to read and draw with Erin. It turns out they both have an affinity for fairies (and may, in fact, both be fairies, for all I know).
Our lovely weekend came to an abrupt end on Monday morning when we discovered our "Old Man" dog, Luke, couldn't lift his head or stand on his own. The lines from Erin's poem (previously published here) had gone from "My dog Luke, He doesn't do much" to "My dog Luke, He doesn't do anything." Walter carried him downstairs (remember, this is a 90 pound yellow lab), and we really thought that his time had come. We took him to the A&M Vet hospital anyway, just to see if anything could be done. I was thinking stroke or spinal tumor or possibly poisoning from some toxin he might have stumbled across. In the end, the vet just thought his knees had given out. After years of hard use, he has no cartilage, few ligaments, and much arthritis in both of his back knees. We spent the morning with him at the vet and by late afternoon they sent him home with pain medicines, anti-inflammatories, instructions for physical therapy, and a suggested course for accupuncture (I'm thinking this is an idea that's going to remain on paper).
In the meantime, Erin's congestion, which flared up substantially over the weekend, had moved into her ears and gotten infected. So she has started a new course of antibiotics. I guess I mention this only because I was contemplating the irony of paying my dog's vet and pharmacy bill on Monday within an hour or so of paying my cancer-stricken daughter's doctor and pharmacy bill. Can you guess which was less than $50 and which was greater than $700?
Everybody felt better on Tuesday. Davis because he had gotten some rest and his soccer team came out on top of a 6-0 game in Killeen. Erin because her nose was less drippy and her ear less achy. And Luke because he was no longer immobile. In fact, after his water aerobics yesterday, he was pretty darned perky. . .for an "Old Man."
Now, we have made it to another weekend. I hope we all get some rest.
Happy belated first birthday, Emma Dear! We'll be there in a week to celebrate with you!
As promised, here's a bit more detail. Our day in Houston yesterday (eight hours) stretched out longer than it needed to because of ungodly traffic (going and coming) and a long wait in clinic. But, as I already mentioned, the trip was worth the wait. Dr. Russell thought Erin looked fabulous, bragged about her blood numbers over the month, and signed her up for another round of etoposide. We have scans scheduled the first week of March, and at that point we will know more about how this is working. Right before she left to return to the OR, Erin remembered to ask Dr. Russell the question she had been holding in her heart for the past couple of weeks.
Erin: "Can I play in the goal now?"
Dr. Russell: "Can you play where?"
Erin: "Can I play goalkeeper in soccer now?"
Mom/coach sucks in her breath and hopes for "no." (Parents really don't relish watching their children slapping down sharply struck balls headed straight for their face or other key body parts--especially if they have a catheter embedded under their skin in their chest).
Dr. Russell (with no hesitation): "Sure."
Mom/coach: choking noises.
Dr. Russell: "What's the worst that can happen? It breaks under her skin and floats in her bloodstream down to her heart."
Mom/coach: more choking noises, perhaps chest pain, too. Can't tell whether it's real or sympathetic.
Dr. Russell: "Sorry. Just kidding. That wouldn't happen. If it breaks, she would have to have it removed. . . Erin, try to keep your hands up in the goal, for your mother's sake. See you in a month."
Erin dances a jig.
To backtrack a little, last weekend was quite a spectacle. Davis played soccer on Friday and we got to bed late only to hop up at 4:45 to catch his ride to Houston for the state chess tournament. He had mixed play on Saturday, taking out his first two opponents relatively easily, than losing a marathon to a very highly rated player in round three. By his fourth matchup (6:00 p.m.) he was out of soap, and lost a match he probably should have won. Instead of retreating to bed, he ate, regrouped, and entered the Bughouse Tournament. If you have never heard of Bughouse, I probably can't explain it adequtely--it's chess with two players playing two other players on two board. Any pieces you capture you can give to your partner to place on his board. As you might imagine, things move very quickly and chaotically. Davis and his partner, Spencer Kendrick, ended up winning alot--enough for a second place finish and a three-foot trophy! If that wasn't enough, Davis really got after it on Sunday and won both matches he played. He had to take a bye in the final round to make it back to Bryan for Beyond Guitar, but his play was enough to secure a medal at state and a 13th place finish for the team (not bad for a team that has only three members, compared to other teams that brought ten or fifteen players).
In the meanwhile, the rest of us moved at a little more leisurely, but no less enjoyable pace. We had a grand time with Mark and Liz, and Erin discovered a kindred spirit in the lovely Liz, who took the time to read and draw with Erin. It turns out they both have an affinity for fairies (and may, in fact, both be fairies, for all I know).
Our lovely weekend came to an abrupt end on Monday morning when we discovered our "Old Man" dog, Luke, couldn't lift his head or stand on his own. The lines from Erin's poem (previously published here) had gone from "My dog Luke, He doesn't do much" to "My dog Luke, He doesn't do anything." Walter carried him downstairs (remember, this is a 90 pound yellow lab), and we really thought that his time had come. We took him to the A&M Vet hospital anyway, just to see if anything could be done. I was thinking stroke or spinal tumor or possibly poisoning from some toxin he might have stumbled across. In the end, the vet just thought his knees had given out. After years of hard use, he has no cartilage, few ligaments, and much arthritis in both of his back knees. We spent the morning with him at the vet and by late afternoon they sent him home with pain medicines, anti-inflammatories, instructions for physical therapy, and a suggested course for accupuncture (I'm thinking this is an idea that's going to remain on paper).
In the meantime, Erin's congestion, which flared up substantially over the weekend, had moved into her ears and gotten infected. So she has started a new course of antibiotics. I guess I mention this only because I was contemplating the irony of paying my dog's vet and pharmacy bill on Monday within an hour or so of paying my cancer-stricken daughter's doctor and pharmacy bill. Can you guess which was less than $50 and which was greater than $700?
Everybody felt better on Tuesday. Davis because he had gotten some rest and his soccer team came out on top of a 6-0 game in Killeen. Erin because her nose was less drippy and her ear less achy. And Luke because he was no longer immobile. In fact, after his water aerobics yesterday, he was pretty darned perky. . .for an "Old Man."
Now, we have made it to another weekend. I hope we all get some rest.
Happy belated first birthday, Emma Dear! We'll be there in a week to celebrate with you!
Thursday, February 9, 2006
Cleared
02/09/06
Everything was great at Erin's check-up yesterday, and she is cleared for another month of oral etoposide (starts next Monday). I want to write more about the week, but it will have to wait until tomorrow.
Everything was great at Erin's check-up yesterday, and she is cleared for another month of oral etoposide (starts next Monday). I want to write more about the week, but it will have to wait until tomorrow.
Friday, February 3, 2006
First Round of Etoposide Coming to an End
02/03/06
Well, we've put January to bed and made a start on February. The first cycle of oral etoposide is almost behind us (two more days), and so far I can't really tell that Erin is taking chemo. I sure hope the tumor cells can tell. Here are her counts from yesterday:
White Blood Count--3300 (low, but we have seen much worse)
Absolute Neutrophil Count--2200 (still in the normal range)
Hemoglobin--10.9 (still below normal, but trending up)
Platelets--240,000 (still normal, even for a regular person)
These are all numbers we can live with at this point. And frankly, if her hemoglobin ever reached a normal level, I think we would have to push her into training for triathalons or hire her out to dig ditches to burn off the extra energy. She is pretty bouncy even in the below normal range. As for the nonblood effects of this drug, I'm waiting for the other shoe to fall. Erin did have somewhat loose bowels yesterday and felt a little stomachy. Hard to tell if that was treatment related or associated with the three helpings of Tuna Helper she downed after a strenuous soccer practice.
The Hammerheads start their season tomorrow morning at the not-too-unGodly hour of 10:00. We had the full team at practice yesterday, fairly rare in this day of busy family schedules. Erin may be the smallest one on the team, but no one trifles with her. Her ball skills have improved through off-season practice with Davis, her personal trainer, and her intincts are keen, sort of like she understands the game or something. Davis's district season starts tonight against Belton. I hope the coach will quit diddling with the starting line-up. In his search for the perfect combination, I think he has succeeded in undermining the confidence of a few of the players. I'll try to remember that when I'm on the sidelines switching players in and out, looking for chemistry. Although frankly, with our team I am usually more concerned with keeping six players on the field (as I frequently see hands waving at me signaling the need for a break).
Besides soccer, we have some bonuses planned this weekend. Davis leaves at 6:30 tomorrow morning for the state chess championship. We don't think he'll win it all because he has to take a seventh round bye (worth half a point and recorded as a tie) on Sunday to make it back in time for his radio show. Unfortunately, he will be missing a visit from Walter's college chums, Mark and Liz, who I'm sure have numerous embarrassing stories they would willingly relate to Davis about his dear old dad's halcyon days. Maybe we can find a volunteer to drop by and videotape the weekend for his viewing later. Scratch that. I won't allow anyone to capture my soul (or any indiscretions that might occur) on video, even for the sake of informing the young un of his legacy.
What's up next (presuming we survive the weekend)? Next week Erin has a scheduled week of rest with no chemo. On Wednesday afternoon, she and I will drive down to Houston for a quickie check-up. If all is good, Dr. Russell will approve another month of oral etoposide. She will scan in early March (the week before spring break). If things still look good we will continue down the path we're on. If not, we'll take a detour.
One last bit of news for long-time Erin fans: Her top front tooth, kicked out the week after Christmas of 2004, finally made an appearance this week. The shy little bugger cut through the gum just a tad, but relieved Erin of the anxiety that a dentist would have to do the dirty work. Pretty soon she will look like a regular third grade with big 'ol chompers up front.
Well, we've put January to bed and made a start on February. The first cycle of oral etoposide is almost behind us (two more days), and so far I can't really tell that Erin is taking chemo. I sure hope the tumor cells can tell. Here are her counts from yesterday:
White Blood Count--3300 (low, but we have seen much worse)
Absolute Neutrophil Count--2200 (still in the normal range)
Hemoglobin--10.9 (still below normal, but trending up)
Platelets--240,000 (still normal, even for a regular person)
These are all numbers we can live with at this point. And frankly, if her hemoglobin ever reached a normal level, I think we would have to push her into training for triathalons or hire her out to dig ditches to burn off the extra energy. She is pretty bouncy even in the below normal range. As for the nonblood effects of this drug, I'm waiting for the other shoe to fall. Erin did have somewhat loose bowels yesterday and felt a little stomachy. Hard to tell if that was treatment related or associated with the three helpings of Tuna Helper she downed after a strenuous soccer practice.
The Hammerheads start their season tomorrow morning at the not-too-unGodly hour of 10:00. We had the full team at practice yesterday, fairly rare in this day of busy family schedules. Erin may be the smallest one on the team, but no one trifles with her. Her ball skills have improved through off-season practice with Davis, her personal trainer, and her intincts are keen, sort of like she understands the game or something. Davis's district season starts tonight against Belton. I hope the coach will quit diddling with the starting line-up. In his search for the perfect combination, I think he has succeeded in undermining the confidence of a few of the players. I'll try to remember that when I'm on the sidelines switching players in and out, looking for chemistry. Although frankly, with our team I am usually more concerned with keeping six players on the field (as I frequently see hands waving at me signaling the need for a break).
Besides soccer, we have some bonuses planned this weekend. Davis leaves at 6:30 tomorrow morning for the state chess championship. We don't think he'll win it all because he has to take a seventh round bye (worth half a point and recorded as a tie) on Sunday to make it back in time for his radio show. Unfortunately, he will be missing a visit from Walter's college chums, Mark and Liz, who I'm sure have numerous embarrassing stories they would willingly relate to Davis about his dear old dad's halcyon days. Maybe we can find a volunteer to drop by and videotape the weekend for his viewing later. Scratch that. I won't allow anyone to capture my soul (or any indiscretions that might occur) on video, even for the sake of informing the young un of his legacy.
What's up next (presuming we survive the weekend)? Next week Erin has a scheduled week of rest with no chemo. On Wednesday afternoon, she and I will drive down to Houston for a quickie check-up. If all is good, Dr. Russell will approve another month of oral etoposide. She will scan in early March (the week before spring break). If things still look good we will continue down the path we're on. If not, we'll take a detour.
One last bit of news for long-time Erin fans: Her top front tooth, kicked out the week after Christmas of 2004, finally made an appearance this week. The shy little bugger cut through the gum just a tad, but relieved Erin of the anxiety that a dentist would have to do the dirty work. Pretty soon she will look like a regular third grade with big 'ol chompers up front.
Friday, January 27, 2006
Labs Look Good
01/27/06
Just a quickie today. Erin had blood counts done yesterday. It was Day 11 of 21 days (hump day for this cycle). With all the chemos Erin has done in the past Day 11 was usually a pretty important day. It was the day Erin was most likely to have the lowest white blood counts and be the most susceptible to germs or infections. We tended to keep a low profile on Days 10 to Day 13 or so, just to be on the safe side. I knew that oral etoposide was supposed to be "easy" on the counts, but so was topo/cyclo. Even with neulasta support (the injection to build her white counts), with topo/cyclo her ANC would drop down under 1000 every time. [To refresh your memory, normal ANC is over 2000. Under 500 is considered neutropenic and requires her to stay home from school, etc. ] With the etoposide, she didn't have the benefit of neulasta (that's akin to saying she doesn't have the benefit of being beaten with a stick), and she has bone marrow that has faced down almost a year of toxic chemo.
So what did we get frrom the blood count fairy?
White Blood Count--4100 (normal, even for a regular person)
Absolute Neutrophil Count--2600 (normal, even for a regular person)
Hemoglobin--10.0 (virtually the same as last week, a little anemic, but pretty solid for Erin--Can you say "More Steak?")
Platelets--294,000 (right smack in the middle of normal, for a regular person)
That means she's cleared for action: OPAS, Jr. tonight, performing with the children's choir on Sunday, AND the start of soccer season next week!
Just a quickie today. Erin had blood counts done yesterday. It was Day 11 of 21 days (hump day for this cycle). With all the chemos Erin has done in the past Day 11 was usually a pretty important day. It was the day Erin was most likely to have the lowest white blood counts and be the most susceptible to germs or infections. We tended to keep a low profile on Days 10 to Day 13 or so, just to be on the safe side. I knew that oral etoposide was supposed to be "easy" on the counts, but so was topo/cyclo. Even with neulasta support (the injection to build her white counts), with topo/cyclo her ANC would drop down under 1000 every time. [To refresh your memory, normal ANC is over 2000. Under 500 is considered neutropenic and requires her to stay home from school, etc. ] With the etoposide, she didn't have the benefit of neulasta (that's akin to saying she doesn't have the benefit of being beaten with a stick), and she has bone marrow that has faced down almost a year of toxic chemo.
So what did we get frrom the blood count fairy?
White Blood Count--4100 (normal, even for a regular person)
Absolute Neutrophil Count--2600 (normal, even for a regular person)
Hemoglobin--10.0 (virtually the same as last week, a little anemic, but pretty solid for Erin--Can you say "More Steak?")
Platelets--294,000 (right smack in the middle of normal, for a regular person)
That means she's cleared for action: OPAS, Jr. tonight, performing with the children's choir on Sunday, AND the start of soccer season next week!
Sunday, January 22, 2006
Owl Girl, Sans Feathers
01/22/06
We now have a week of oral etoposide under our belt (behind Erin's belt?). So far, so good. She has not needed zofran (high dollar anti-barfie medicine). Her blood counts on Thursday held their own. No strange allergic reactions.
Those of you who see her regularly may remember that Erin had sprouted a little fuzz towards the end of last fall that she had kept over a couple of cycles of IV chemo. I thought those proto-locks had put down a beachhead, and that the switch to oral medicine would allow a quick fill in, and voila, hair. Oh well, so much for bright ideas. Hair loss always lags three or four weeks behind chemo. It seems that the last round of topless cyclone blew the top off of Erin's budding hair. Oh well, back to square one. Now we will really be able to see how well her hair does with the new regimen.
Those of you who take the local paper (you know the one whose motto is "don't try to train a puppy using the Monday or Tuesday edition") may have seen the story about Erin's art work "Owl Girl" in last Thursday's Spotlight. I think the rest of you can see it (without the photo) if you visit
http://www.theeagle.com. We really appreciate the volunteers that make programs like this possible and also send special thanks to the Children's Museum of the Brazos Valley for sponsoring the traveling exhibit and to Greg Okuhara and The Eagle for covering the story so well.
Well, I'm going to fly now. Davie B.'s show is still on, and you know my generation. We're not the best at multitasking.
We now have a week of oral etoposide under our belt (behind Erin's belt?). So far, so good. She has not needed zofran (high dollar anti-barfie medicine). Her blood counts on Thursday held their own. No strange allergic reactions.
Those of you who see her regularly may remember that Erin had sprouted a little fuzz towards the end of last fall that she had kept over a couple of cycles of IV chemo. I thought those proto-locks had put down a beachhead, and that the switch to oral medicine would allow a quick fill in, and voila, hair. Oh well, so much for bright ideas. Hair loss always lags three or four weeks behind chemo. It seems that the last round of topless cyclone blew the top off of Erin's budding hair. Oh well, back to square one. Now we will really be able to see how well her hair does with the new regimen.
Those of you who take the local paper (you know the one whose motto is "don't try to train a puppy using the Monday or Tuesday edition") may have seen the story about Erin's art work "Owl Girl" in last Thursday's Spotlight. I think the rest of you can see it (without the photo) if you visit
http://www.theeagle.com. We really appreciate the volunteers that make programs like this possible and also send special thanks to the Children's Museum of the Brazos Valley for sponsoring the traveling exhibit and to Greg Okuhara and The Eagle for covering the story so well.
Well, I'm going to fly now. Davie B.'s show is still on, and you know my generation. We're not the best at multitasking.
Wednesday, January 18, 2006
Life Without St. John's Wort
01/18/06
Unremarkable. A perfect word to describe Erin's first two and a half days of the new chemo regimen. In the pediatric cancer world, unremarkable is practically a perfect word. It means nothing worth mentioning (particularly, nothing bad) is going on. So, let me mention it again. Unremarkable. I only hope that any viable tumor cells are remarking to each other, "Oh my, I think I'm dying."
We have a slightly new routine to accommodate this drug. Someone has to wake Erin up around 6:00 (so her stomach is empty) to give her the gelcap. This must be done gently to increase the chance that she goes back to sleep for another hour (so far, so good on that one). We have also had to strike grapefruit and grapefruit juice off the morning menu (a loss, but one we can live with). Apparently, St. John's Wort is also a no no, but since I don't even know what St. John's Wort is, it should be easy to avoid, unless it is commonly slipped in to more palatable-sounding things like cheesecake or ice cream. That's it. No other changes.
Today, Erin will double dip on after school activities--horse back riding and children's choir. We are so glad she can do the things she loves. Everyone deserves that chance.
Davis's soccer team roared to the championship of the tournament they played in last weekend, winning 5-1, 5-1, and 4-0 in bracket play. The final was more of a challenge. The Vikings played a well-matched team in a tight game. They were down 1-0 for a good part of the game. About halfway through the second half, Davis got the assist by serving up a long (and accurate) pass to his forward who put it away to tie the game. The game remained that way to the final whistle and the Vikings clinched the win in the shootout.
Last night they made the long drive to Lufkin, where they squeaked out a tie. If that's not enough soccer for them, they have games scheduled Thursday, Friday, and Saturday over in Brenham at the Diadora Cup. All I can say, is that I'm glad Davis is a good student , or I doubt he could balance it all.
Unremarkable. A perfect word to describe Erin's first two and a half days of the new chemo regimen. In the pediatric cancer world, unremarkable is practically a perfect word. It means nothing worth mentioning (particularly, nothing bad) is going on. So, let me mention it again. Unremarkable. I only hope that any viable tumor cells are remarking to each other, "Oh my, I think I'm dying."
We have a slightly new routine to accommodate this drug. Someone has to wake Erin up around 6:00 (so her stomach is empty) to give her the gelcap. This must be done gently to increase the chance that she goes back to sleep for another hour (so far, so good on that one). We have also had to strike grapefruit and grapefruit juice off the morning menu (a loss, but one we can live with). Apparently, St. John's Wort is also a no no, but since I don't even know what St. John's Wort is, it should be easy to avoid, unless it is commonly slipped in to more palatable-sounding things like cheesecake or ice cream. That's it. No other changes.
Today, Erin will double dip on after school activities--horse back riding and children's choir. We are so glad she can do the things she loves. Everyone deserves that chance.
Davis's soccer team roared to the championship of the tournament they played in last weekend, winning 5-1, 5-1, and 4-0 in bracket play. The final was more of a challenge. The Vikings played a well-matched team in a tight game. They were down 1-0 for a good part of the game. About halfway through the second half, Davis got the assist by serving up a long (and accurate) pass to his forward who put it away to tie the game. The game remained that way to the final whistle and the Vikings clinched the win in the shootout.
Last night they made the long drive to Lufkin, where they squeaked out a tie. If that's not enough soccer for them, they have games scheduled Thursday, Friday, and Saturday over in Brenham at the Diadora Cup. All I can say, is that I'm glad Davis is a good student , or I doubt he could balance it all.
Friday, January 13, 2006
FAQ
01/13/06
Erin FAQ (frequently asked questions)
Do stable scans mean Erin does or doesn't have cancer?
Yes.
Give me a real answer.
Erin would probably still have cancer even if it didn't show up at all on scans. CT scans don't work very well on things that are smaller than a centimeter and the MiBG scans that might pick up smaller NB is not working on Erin's current tumor configuration. That means that even if nothing showed up we would still suspect that she had NB lurking.
You didn't answer my question. I know she is not NED. Why would a scan show the same sized tumor for seven months in a row, if she was having chemo all that time? Wouldn't it either shrink because the chemo was working or grow because it wasn't?
Unless we remove the pieces and biopsy them, we don't really know what's going on. The scan could be picking up lymph nodes with scar tissue on them or some sort of stroma (extra background tissue) around them. The tumor cells also could have matured into something benign, like ganglioneuroma. We might also be dealing with NB that is viable, just not currently dividing ("Ain't Misbehavin").
Would a tumor really do that?
Unfortunately, yes.
Since you don't know, will she keep having chemo forever?
Another toughy, but for now, we will assume that she'll have chemo for long enough that it will seem like it is forever. BUT (now here is the reward for those of you who have made it this far) it doesn't always have to be topotecan/cyclophosphomide. Starting on Monday (that's right, next week) Erin is switching to a new chemo drug, oral etoposide.
Did you say oral?
Yep.
Does that mean through her mouth, not her port?
Yep.
Does that mean no clinic next week?
Yep.
Does that mean I need to cancel my reservation to stop by for a visit.
I've taken care of that already.
Did the doctor switch her to this because the other wasn't working anymore?
Hard to say. The tumor wasn't growing while she was on it, but lately it wasn't shrinking either. If those tumor cells are still viable, it may have been holding them in check (like pinning an opponent's bishop in chess--it's still on the board, but not longer in the game), but if viable tumor cells remain, they are probably chemo resistant to that particular combo.
If topo/cyclo is holding everything in check, isn't changing chemo risky?
Everything about having cancer is risky. At this point, we are hoping that the new agent will mop up any remaining viable cells in the tumor and any remaining lurkers or at least keep the bishop pinned. We also hope that Erin will tolerate it as well as she has the other stuff.
What do you think. . .will she tolerate it as well?
That's what I'm hoping. At a minimum it keeps her in school everyday and avoids the long days at clinic. It also should be less suppressive to her blood counts. She won't have to take neulasta shots to build up her white count, a big bonus. She may even grow hair. She could also have mouth sores, nausea, and perhaps some liver concerns. We'll just have to see how her body reacts.
When does she start?
Monday, if the pharmacy gets the order in by then.
How many pills? How often? For how long?
One each day for 21 days in a row, then 7 free days, then start over.
Bottom line it for me. Is this good news or bad?
I'll get back to you in a month or two. If it works, it's the best news we've had since last March. If it doesn't, then we'll move on to something else.
What's the score on Davis's soccer game?
5-1, Bryan wins!
Erin FAQ (frequently asked questions)
Do stable scans mean Erin does or doesn't have cancer?
Yes.
Give me a real answer.
Erin would probably still have cancer even if it didn't show up at all on scans. CT scans don't work very well on things that are smaller than a centimeter and the MiBG scans that might pick up smaller NB is not working on Erin's current tumor configuration. That means that even if nothing showed up we would still suspect that she had NB lurking.
You didn't answer my question. I know she is not NED. Why would a scan show the same sized tumor for seven months in a row, if she was having chemo all that time? Wouldn't it either shrink because the chemo was working or grow because it wasn't?
Unless we remove the pieces and biopsy them, we don't really know what's going on. The scan could be picking up lymph nodes with scar tissue on them or some sort of stroma (extra background tissue) around them. The tumor cells also could have matured into something benign, like ganglioneuroma. We might also be dealing with NB that is viable, just not currently dividing ("Ain't Misbehavin").
Would a tumor really do that?
Unfortunately, yes.
Since you don't know, will she keep having chemo forever?
Another toughy, but for now, we will assume that she'll have chemo for long enough that it will seem like it is forever. BUT (now here is the reward for those of you who have made it this far) it doesn't always have to be topotecan/cyclophosphomide. Starting on Monday (that's right, next week) Erin is switching to a new chemo drug, oral etoposide.
Did you say oral?
Yep.
Does that mean through her mouth, not her port?
Yep.
Does that mean no clinic next week?
Yep.
Does that mean I need to cancel my reservation to stop by for a visit.
I've taken care of that already.
Did the doctor switch her to this because the other wasn't working anymore?
Hard to say. The tumor wasn't growing while she was on it, but lately it wasn't shrinking either. If those tumor cells are still viable, it may have been holding them in check (like pinning an opponent's bishop in chess--it's still on the board, but not longer in the game), but if viable tumor cells remain, they are probably chemo resistant to that particular combo.
If topo/cyclo is holding everything in check, isn't changing chemo risky?
Everything about having cancer is risky. At this point, we are hoping that the new agent will mop up any remaining viable cells in the tumor and any remaining lurkers or at least keep the bishop pinned. We also hope that Erin will tolerate it as well as she has the other stuff.
What do you think. . .will she tolerate it as well?
That's what I'm hoping. At a minimum it keeps her in school everyday and avoids the long days at clinic. It also should be less suppressive to her blood counts. She won't have to take neulasta shots to build up her white count, a big bonus. She may even grow hair. She could also have mouth sores, nausea, and perhaps some liver concerns. We'll just have to see how her body reacts.
When does she start?
Monday, if the pharmacy gets the order in by then.
How many pills? How often? For how long?
One each day for 21 days in a row, then 7 free days, then start over.
Bottom line it for me. Is this good news or bad?
I'll get back to you in a month or two. If it works, it's the best news we've had since last March. If it doesn't, then we'll move on to something else.
What's the score on Davis's soccer game?
5-1, Bryan wins!
Wednesday, January 11, 2006
Owl Girl
01/11/06
I haven't heard much on Monday's scans, but I'll take what we've got:
E-mail from Heidi Russell--Erin's bone scan is good. Her CT scan hasn't been read yet, but I don't see any obvious change or new tumors.
We head back to Houston tomorrow afternoon for blood counts and a physical. The doc has to see Erin face-to-face before she can write orders for the next round of chemo. I should know more then about whether she thinks this combo's usefulness is playing out and possibly what will happen next. For now, we are satisfied that Erin feels well and looks good, and that this damned disease is not ruining our lives.
It looks like Erin might get another extension on her 15 minutes of fame clock. You may or may not have heard of Texas Children's Hospital's Arts in Medicine program. Every year The Periwinkle Foundation selects art and creative writing done by pediatric cancer patients from around the world and display them prominently in the hospital. Erin's "Owl Girl", created late last summer with the hope that Davis would be going to school next year right by "her" hospital, was selected as one of the Blue Ribbon pieces. Much to our surprise a subset of the exhibit is traveling around the state, and its current stop is here at the Brazos Valley Children's Museum. For those of you with dial up, it may be quicker to drive downtown and see "Owl Girl" in person.
The Vikings played their second scrimmage yesterday with Davis starting and playing every minute of the game at stopper, or the position that Erin and her friends call raptor. They seemed to have gotten over the problems they had with the off-side trap last Friday night, scoring 4 with a hat trick by Javie to Huntsville's 2. Davis has had nagging lower back issues which don't bother him as long as he stays warm and stretched out (not usually a problem during the game with 80 consecutive minutes of high-intensity soccer). After the game he was pretty creakity and had to comandeer Walter's chair (you know. . .the manly green leather recliner with built in back-massage). No greater love hath a man than to allow his son the primo spot in the house.
I am taking reservations now for drop by visits at the Central Texas Cancer Center next week. Hope to see you then.
I haven't heard much on Monday's scans, but I'll take what we've got:
E-mail from Heidi Russell--Erin's bone scan is good. Her CT scan hasn't been read yet, but I don't see any obvious change or new tumors.
We head back to Houston tomorrow afternoon for blood counts and a physical. The doc has to see Erin face-to-face before she can write orders for the next round of chemo. I should know more then about whether she thinks this combo's usefulness is playing out and possibly what will happen next. For now, we are satisfied that Erin feels well and looks good, and that this damned disease is not ruining our lives.
It looks like Erin might get another extension on her 15 minutes of fame clock. You may or may not have heard of Texas Children's Hospital's Arts in Medicine program. Every year The Periwinkle Foundation selects art and creative writing done by pediatric cancer patients from around the world and display them prominently in the hospital. Erin's "Owl Girl", created late last summer with the hope that Davis would be going to school next year right by "her" hospital, was selected as one of the Blue Ribbon pieces. Much to our surprise a subset of the exhibit is traveling around the state, and its current stop is here at the Brazos Valley Children's Museum. For those of you with dial up, it may be quicker to drive downtown and see "Owl Girl" in person.
The Vikings played their second scrimmage yesterday with Davis starting and playing every minute of the game at stopper, or the position that Erin and her friends call raptor. They seemed to have gotten over the problems they had with the off-side trap last Friday night, scoring 4 with a hat trick by Javie to Huntsville's 2. Davis has had nagging lower back issues which don't bother him as long as he stays warm and stretched out (not usually a problem during the game with 80 consecutive minutes of high-intensity soccer). After the game he was pretty creakity and had to comandeer Walter's chair (you know. . .the manly green leather recliner with built in back-massage). No greater love hath a man than to allow his son the primo spot in the house.
I am taking reservations now for drop by visits at the Central Texas Cancer Center next week. Hope to see you then.
Sunday, January 8, 2006
*&%^% Machine
01/08/06
I hope I am not contagious. I have picked up a cruel, cruel virus that slows my CPU down to glacier speed. Imagine. . .my typing is faster than my computer's ability to display text. That's sloooow. It also explains the paucity of updates. I don't have the patience to wait for my computer to boot up, much less to hang fire while it decides whether or not it is going to let me load programs. I could go up to the office (and would have if there had been anything urgent to report), but the gorgeous winter weather has kept me in the garden and about the lake rather than at the office. Back to the grind next week.
In the meantime, you suffer: no updates, no prayer instructions, no sly stories--just that same old post-Christmas chestnut about burning down the sanctuary. Well, don't expect much from this. Erin and Davis had a splendid vacation with lots of friends and fun. They returned to school with very little complaint. Erin's white counts were low when they were supposed to be and bounced back as expected. Tomorrow we will check on the hemoglobin and platelets and make sure they complied with my message to return to normal. Erin will also take the opportunity to lay about (inside and underneath scanning machines).
We are (again) hoping for all clear, improved, or stable. There hasn't really been anything going on with Erin medically that would foreshadow anything else. Of course, I will let you know as soon as I find out something. As long as we don't get answer "D" ("things look worse"), we will have chemo again (Relapse Round 10) here in Bryan next week. Her appointments (see, I am an optimist and scheduled as if I already knew the outcome) are Monday through Friday (1/16-1/20) afternoon, starting at about 1:00 and continuing through about 5:00 or 5:30. I really hope that that is what happens.
Davis's high school soccer season started last Friday, so get ready to hear about them regularly. They will play at least twice a week from now until April, longer if they push into the playoffs. He looked really good and fit, even after the two week lay off.
This brief update is all I have the patience for with this machine. Check again later in the week. Maybe by then I will be driving a new machine.
I hope I am not contagious. I have picked up a cruel, cruel virus that slows my CPU down to glacier speed. Imagine. . .my typing is faster than my computer's ability to display text. That's sloooow. It also explains the paucity of updates. I don't have the patience to wait for my computer to boot up, much less to hang fire while it decides whether or not it is going to let me load programs. I could go up to the office (and would have if there had been anything urgent to report), but the gorgeous winter weather has kept me in the garden and about the lake rather than at the office. Back to the grind next week.
In the meantime, you suffer: no updates, no prayer instructions, no sly stories--just that same old post-Christmas chestnut about burning down the sanctuary. Well, don't expect much from this. Erin and Davis had a splendid vacation with lots of friends and fun. They returned to school with very little complaint. Erin's white counts were low when they were supposed to be and bounced back as expected. Tomorrow we will check on the hemoglobin and platelets and make sure they complied with my message to return to normal. Erin will also take the opportunity to lay about (inside and underneath scanning machines).
We are (again) hoping for all clear, improved, or stable. There hasn't really been anything going on with Erin medically that would foreshadow anything else. Of course, I will let you know as soon as I find out something. As long as we don't get answer "D" ("things look worse"), we will have chemo again (Relapse Round 10) here in Bryan next week. Her appointments (see, I am an optimist and scheduled as if I already knew the outcome) are Monday through Friday (1/16-1/20) afternoon, starting at about 1:00 and continuing through about 5:00 or 5:30. I really hope that that is what happens.
Davis's high school soccer season started last Friday, so get ready to hear about them regularly. They will play at least twice a week from now until April, longer if they push into the playoffs. He looked really good and fit, even after the two week lay off.
This brief update is all I have the patience for with this machine. Check again later in the week. Maybe by then I will be driving a new machine.
Wednesday, December 28, 2005
Christmas Pageant, Presbyterian Style
12/28/05
Good Morning and Merry after-Christmas to each of you. I hope you have enjoyed the cheer of the season as much as we have. I only reached stress-level Code Red twice over the weekend and recovered quickly both times. Erin was quite pumped about the whole gift-exchange concept. She made all of her presents (about a dozen of them a couple of weeks ago at our church's Secret Santa Workshop), promptly wrapped them, and placed them where the tree would eventually be when her parents got around to getting one. I think she was dumb-founded that I was still wrapping things on Christmas Eve afternoon. Frankly, I was a little edgy about it myself, but it all got done, with almost a half an hour to spare to get ready for church.
We attended children's church for Christmas eve again this year. We were hoping to graduate to the more serene 7:00 service, but Erin's children's choir was performing at 4:30. This year's program was actually quite good and got us all into the Christmas spirit. . .up until the very end. Let me backtrack and explain. Like many churches, First Pres ends each of its Christmas eve services with a candle lighting ceremony. Each person in the congregation has his or her own candle. We dim the lights in the sanctuary, sing "Joy to the World," and pass the flame of the Christ candle from candle to candle until everyone is included. Quite uplifting and beautiful, although a little scary for parents who may not trust their small children to wield fire in a crowded dark place. At least in that version of the ceremony, parents are standing close to their children and can snuff out potentially hazardous situations before they spread.
This year, however, practically all of the children, down to the smallest tots, were up front in the chancel area imitating shepherds and angels and stall animals when the candle lighting part of the service arrived. Instead of sending them back to the pews, the organizers handed each child a candle and lit them immediately, while the parents waited for their candles and flames. What could possibly happen? I'm sure nothing. . .you can often jam 30 children into a space the size of my kitchen, dress them in flowing robes and synthetic wings, hand them lit candles, and nothing bad will happen.
Okay, I admit it. I was a tad anxious. I knew Erin's ornamental headwear was highly flammable, and I suspected as much about the angel wings and shepherds' gear surrounding her. I also knew, from personal experience (NOTE: yes, I was the one who caught my script on fire at a Christmas eve service several years ago, when it strayed into the advent wreath in that most Holy moment when the Buengers were lighting the Christ candle. Only Walter's brave and heroic willingness to put the fire out with his bare hand kept the church from becoming a conflagration on the spot.) that a fire in the chancel was not an impossibility. With wavering voice--ready at any moment to leap the alter to smother any errant flame; ready to bellow out "Stop! Drop! and Roll"--I sang verse after verse of "Joy to the World." Eventually, the peace of Christ was shared around the room, Phil benedicted us, and we all blew out our candles. Then, I could go forth in the peace of the season, safe in the knowledge that the smell that wafted past my nostril wasn't really singed hair. . .and even if it was, it wasn't my child. Another advantage of having a child with chemo-induced baldness.
Davis deserved the "Good Son" award on Christmas morning. Years ago, he took on the gate-keeping responsibilities for the Christmas morning extravaganza. Erin knows that she has to stop by Davis's room to get the "go ahead" before she can wake us up and check out the Santa loot. This year, her first foray came around 2:00. . . Davis sent her back to bed. Her second attempt came at 5:00. . . Again, Davis sent her back to bed. Walter and I thus dodged the way-too-early bullet twice before Davis finally signaled "all systems go" around 5:30, which is early but not ungodly.
What can I say about the rest of the day? We enjoyed every facet of it. Gifts and guests and good food.
How does Erin feel? On the whole, quite well. She has a little sniffle in her nose and maybe a little cough creeping back into her system. Monday she was tireder than usual, although she rallied to have a friend over. She also complained of back pain for much of the day. I was ready to go back into worry mode over that, but it was slightly better when she woke up on Tuesday and seemed to bother her less as the day progressed. She rode horses in the afternoon, and I really thought it would flare back up afterwards, with all the jostling and jiggling, but neither her fatigue or her back rated any mention for the rest of the day. We are headed to the park in a little while.
She will have her blood counts done tomorrow, and I expect them to be lowish for a couple of days. Scans will be on January 9. It's never too early to start on the shrink, shrink, shrink; die, die, die mantra aimed at the tumor cells!
Thanks for stopping by.
Good Morning and Merry after-Christmas to each of you. I hope you have enjoyed the cheer of the season as much as we have. I only reached stress-level Code Red twice over the weekend and recovered quickly both times. Erin was quite pumped about the whole gift-exchange concept. She made all of her presents (about a dozen of them a couple of weeks ago at our church's Secret Santa Workshop), promptly wrapped them, and placed them where the tree would eventually be when her parents got around to getting one. I think she was dumb-founded that I was still wrapping things on Christmas Eve afternoon. Frankly, I was a little edgy about it myself, but it all got done, with almost a half an hour to spare to get ready for church.
We attended children's church for Christmas eve again this year. We were hoping to graduate to the more serene 7:00 service, but Erin's children's choir was performing at 4:30. This year's program was actually quite good and got us all into the Christmas spirit. . .up until the very end. Let me backtrack and explain. Like many churches, First Pres ends each of its Christmas eve services with a candle lighting ceremony. Each person in the congregation has his or her own candle. We dim the lights in the sanctuary, sing "Joy to the World," and pass the flame of the Christ candle from candle to candle until everyone is included. Quite uplifting and beautiful, although a little scary for parents who may not trust their small children to wield fire in a crowded dark place. At least in that version of the ceremony, parents are standing close to their children and can snuff out potentially hazardous situations before they spread.
This year, however, practically all of the children, down to the smallest tots, were up front in the chancel area imitating shepherds and angels and stall animals when the candle lighting part of the service arrived. Instead of sending them back to the pews, the organizers handed each child a candle and lit them immediately, while the parents waited for their candles and flames. What could possibly happen? I'm sure nothing. . .you can often jam 30 children into a space the size of my kitchen, dress them in flowing robes and synthetic wings, hand them lit candles, and nothing bad will happen.
Okay, I admit it. I was a tad anxious. I knew Erin's ornamental headwear was highly flammable, and I suspected as much about the angel wings and shepherds' gear surrounding her. I also knew, from personal experience (NOTE: yes, I was the one who caught my script on fire at a Christmas eve service several years ago, when it strayed into the advent wreath in that most Holy moment when the Buengers were lighting the Christ candle. Only Walter's brave and heroic willingness to put the fire out with his bare hand kept the church from becoming a conflagration on the spot.) that a fire in the chancel was not an impossibility. With wavering voice--ready at any moment to leap the alter to smother any errant flame; ready to bellow out "Stop! Drop! and Roll"--I sang verse after verse of "Joy to the World." Eventually, the peace of Christ was shared around the room, Phil benedicted us, and we all blew out our candles. Then, I could go forth in the peace of the season, safe in the knowledge that the smell that wafted past my nostril wasn't really singed hair. . .and even if it was, it wasn't my child. Another advantage of having a child with chemo-induced baldness.
Davis deserved the "Good Son" award on Christmas morning. Years ago, he took on the gate-keeping responsibilities for the Christmas morning extravaganza. Erin knows that she has to stop by Davis's room to get the "go ahead" before she can wake us up and check out the Santa loot. This year, her first foray came around 2:00. . . Davis sent her back to bed. Her second attempt came at 5:00. . . Again, Davis sent her back to bed. Walter and I thus dodged the way-too-early bullet twice before Davis finally signaled "all systems go" around 5:30, which is early but not ungodly.
What can I say about the rest of the day? We enjoyed every facet of it. Gifts and guests and good food.
How does Erin feel? On the whole, quite well. She has a little sniffle in her nose and maybe a little cough creeping back into her system. Monday she was tireder than usual, although she rallied to have a friend over. She also complained of back pain for much of the day. I was ready to go back into worry mode over that, but it was slightly better when she woke up on Tuesday and seemed to bother her less as the day progressed. She rode horses in the afternoon, and I really thought it would flare back up afterwards, with all the jostling and jiggling, but neither her fatigue or her back rated any mention for the rest of the day. We are headed to the park in a little while.
She will have her blood counts done tomorrow, and I expect them to be lowish for a couple of days. Scans will be on January 9. It's never too early to start on the shrink, shrink, shrink; die, die, die mantra aimed at the tumor cells!
Thanks for stopping by.
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