Not a Radio Station

02/14/07

103.8

No, that's not my favorite radio station. That was Erin's temperature when I took it Monday evening. It really surprised me. I had noticed that she had the sniffles. I had noticed that her cough had flared up again, just a few days after finishing a round antibiotics for lung gunk. I had even noticed that her ears weren't quite right. She said they felt like she had cups over them (I thought she was just ignoring me when I asked her to pick up her dirty clothes). BUT, she had not revealed illness to me over the course of her rather active day. On invitation from her kindergarten teacher, Leslie Borski, she spent the morning at her old school as a helper. She loved assisting various five year olds make melted crayon hearts and valentine people. She also had a blast with Jackson on Monday afternoon building Legos and playing SimCity. But what can I say, I got back from walking Willie and Uma around the lake about 6:00, and I could tell she was warm. Did I say warm? I mean blazing!

This discovery bought her a forced holiday from school, although after a dose of Tylenol Monday evening, her temp stayed normal. Walter set his schedule aside and stayed home with her on Tuesday so I could get my classes taught (the ability to work from home on the newly acquired computer with super-fast modem did a lot to ameliorate the decision). When I returned home at 2:00, Erin and I began the odyssey to discover the driver of the fever. Dr. Parr found two infected ears, but also sent us out for a chest x-ray, just to make sure. Fortunately, lung-wise, Erin was clear. She started a Z-Pack last night and felt well enough for school this morning.

Which is a good thing, since today is Valentine's Day, which for grader schoolers everywhere, means a party with high sugar content. Erin worked diligently on her valentines this year. She decided on a puzzle booklet. The cover is below. By clicking on the following options, you, too, can have the pleasure of solving the sudoku, the logic problem, the word find, the word scramble, and the word game that Erin designed.

Party Squared--alternatively titled Having a (Size 5) Ball

02/12/07

Last Monday's clinic brought us the decent news all around. Erin's blood counts looked solid in every category, except hemoglobin. For you economists out there, hemoglobin is a "lagging" variable. It reflects the past two or three months of blood health, so Erin's hemoglobin count is still hovering a point or two below where it was before she got sick around last Thanksgiving. Given her overall improvement in health we ought to see that number climb slowly up as spring dawns. I see this surge as essential to support Erin's plans for herself, which involve soccer, softball, horse back riding, church music, and the newly inaugurated piano lessons. The other bit of clinic news was that Erin could have her next physical and full labs here in the microplex with her pediatrician, Jesse Parr. Dr. Russell gave Erin a pass since we had a complicated schedule that week with the side note that joked "Erin has been so stable. We have to keep her on the meds just so you don't forget us." I would gladly put a portrait of Heidi Russell and her whole NB team in my living room and build a little memorial around it to remember them if it would let Erin go off of meds and leave the world of neuroblastoma behind.

Davis and Brian Benjamin joined Erin and I for dinner Monday evening, and as I had hoped we had an unremarkable evening. The boys had a lot to say about "Fun Fun" math (Calculus IV) and "Imaginary" math (Complex Analysis), but the big topic of conversation was "Orgo" (Organic Chemistry). Both Brian and Davis were preparing for an 8-hour orgo day on Tuesday, with a one hour class, a four hour lab, and then in the evening, a three hour exam. On the whole, they seemed to have a pretty good attitude about it. Brian, one of the PPR day rule breakers, also seemed sanguine about taking his punishments. Davis had chosen a fellow Will Ricer, known only as Niceville, to arbitrate and pass judgment on the punishment definitions, to make sure the rule breakers received just punishment.

Erin had the delight of watching those amazing Harlem Globetrotters on Wednesday night at the invitation of her buddy Jackson. I sent her along with a $20, so she could buy souvenirs for herself and Jackson. She brought home what I used to call a whirly gig and no change. I was okay with the no change part until Thursday, when Erin's souvenir became a "willie gig," a pricey chew toy that had lost it ability to fly without frequent flier miles.

The weekend took the Buengers in four different directions. I am on a need-to-know basis about Davis and can not report his whereabouts, but I know he wasn't with me, Erin, or Walter. Walter had to attend to secret church business most of the weekend (no, he's not in a cult--just the opposite--we're Presbyterian). Erin and I had a tough call to make. We were invited to birthday parties--one in Sachse (Emma's Big Number Two!)

and one here at home (Terriana's First Annual Super Girlie-Girl Party).


I opted to let Erin stay in town to be with her friends and avoid the long car trip. Thankfully, Erin's friends treated her like a progressive dinner and just passed her along from house to house all weekend. Thank you ladies and gentlemen! Here is Erin on one of the beds she could have slept on.

I made it back to town on Sunday, just in time to suit up for my first soccer match of the season. The SMC United (Soccer Mom's Club) took the field against the Purple Haze in the newly formed Division V League. I swear what is about to follow is not pornography, but it does involve bare body parts and may shock many of you if you keep reading. So, STOP SCROLLING DOWN, if you want to avoid the image that I am going to publish below. I promise you will not miss any droll commentary or interesting Buenger tidbits. This is my leg, the right one. What you see is not varicose veins. If you look carefully, you will see that it is an imprint of a size 5 soccer ball, taken twenty-four hours after the soccer ball struck my thigh. I am looking for a business suit with a mini skirt in my size. I figure if I teach tomorrow with this still showing on my leg, no student would dare cross Dr. Tough. I think I will limit my search to blue, purple, or maroon suits so that the bruising will just blend in like an accessory. You think I'm brave? You think I'm tough? It wasn't taking a ball on the leg to stop a certain goal that proves that. How many of you would publish a photo of your thigh for all the world to see? Okay. So I lied. There was droll commentary and a little Buenger tidbit for those of you who kept scrolling down. Life is just like Forrest Gump promised. Truly, you never know what you are going to get.

Lows and Highs

February 4, 2008

Tournament results: Erin's team 0 wins, 3 losses. The first game was the worst, a 7-0 shellacking by a Super 2 team of fifth graders who had traveled from San Antonio with every intention of winning all of their games. The second game was also a shut out, 3-0 against the other girls in the Bridge program. . .disappointing but understandable. The third game was a 0-0 until the last two minutes of play, when the local U-11 team muscled one in and brought the game to a close.

How long did Erin worry about the result?


About a minute.

Crime and Punishment

February 3, 2007

January has turned to February, and the Brazos Valley is actually having winter this year. Bob French, the local weather guru, says that we've only had five days this year with below freezing temperatures, but there have been many more that have hovered right above freezing. In general, this January has felt more like winter in Nashville--plenty of bone-chilling, dampish days in the thirties and low forties. I know, anybody from Buffalo or St. Paul reading this is chuckling about how wimpy we south central Texans are. My main concern doesn't center on my personal body temperature. I have enough extra layers of body fluff to keep pretty toasty. I'm just ready for it to warm up so that the children will all run outside and spread out, instead of hunching together around electronic devises swapping germs.

We have (have I said this before?) finally gotten a handle on Erin's childhood illnesses. The hyperactive bowels are merely active now. She has started to edge back up on weight (having lost seven pounds to illness in December and January) thanks in part to evening milk shakes and possibly that her mother now spreads peanut butter on every piece of toast and each cracker that passes her way. We also took on another round of antibiotics for the stubborn cough that refuses to retire. With just three days left of the Cefzil, Erin sounds and feels better than she has since Thanksgiving. We have clinic in Houston on Monday for a general check up and okay for the next round of chemo. I think the Dr. Russell and Shari Feinberg, NP will be exceedingly pleased with Erin's come back.

The last week has brought few surprises. Erin is testing the waters of competitive soccer. Her team is playing in the Aggieland Classic today and tomorrow, and for Walter and I the whole experience has induced flashbacks to Davis's early days with Magic soccer. As much fun as he had and as big a part of his life that soccer became, the prospects of starting over again with Erin gives me pause. I guess that happens with second children. You go into everything with much wider eyes. Of course, the second time around there is a lot less angst. I didn't stop for a moment when the coaches called a last minute practice that conflicted with Erin's already scheduled handbell and choir rehearsal. I just said sorry, we have another commitment. I knew that missing one hastily schedule practice would not hurt her soccer career in the least. For the rest of the parents who want to make sure their child has every opportunity to play, the choice seemed tougher. Maybe that wasn't the second time soccer parent perspective. Maybe that was the parent of a cancer child perspective. It becomes much harder to obsess about A team/B team, playing times, and position selection, when you're just glad your child is in the game.

Erin also got back to horse back riding this week. I understand Napoleon was quite a pill this week, which all comes when horses don't get ridden regularly. She can hardly wait to give the new horse, Jericho, a try. He is a rescued race horse (thoroughbred) and is coming along nicely.

Lest you think it's all work and no play at our house, let me report that Erin played at the park after school one day with her chums, went to Jackson's house one day and got plenty muddy, and had Noah, Aaron, and Heather over last night. I'm not sure what Erin and her friends play, but they sure do have a rip roaring time. For instance, last night when Erin and her buds came to the table for supper, each one had a small, black label (the kind that you stamp out on a sticky, plastic strip from a label gun) with random letters, stuck to a different part of their face. Erin's was on the tip of her nose. Heather had a chin sticker. Noah's was smack in the middle on his forehead, and Aaron had two, one on each cheek right under the eyes. From a distance it looked like the smudges that ball players make to block the glare. I thought about ignoring the signs, but could tell from the expectant look on everybody's faces that they were bursting to explain.

So here's what I gleaned from their explanation: They are spies. The labels are code for their jobs and special skills. Noah provides the brain power (hence he wears his on his forehead). Erin sniffs out clues. Heather is on the move (her chin moves up and down) and is a fast talker, and Aaron sees where no one else can. Hearing this, I started rapidly reviewing what the adults had been talking about before we called them for dinner (it was Friday evening cocktail hour, for heaven's sake). Had we been talking about "adult" things, secret things, things better off not shared with children. Like good spies they refused to divulge any information they picked up by spying.

Erin and her friends have also had a thorny problem to deal with. You have read in these updates that they have a club, called the PPR Club, whose primarily mission is to allow the members of the club to tromp around in the woods--making discoveries, building forts, and having various special PPR kinds of activities. The club has a hierarchy with job specialization, policies, and rules. One important rule is that club members have to celebrate PPR Day on the 19th of every month.

When Davis came home for Thanksgiving, he designed a PPR shirt for Erin (which he later silk screened for the whole club). Because the design of the shirt was so cool, his friend Matt, who was visiting for the holiday, wanted one and wanted to become an affiliated member. The interest in joining the PPR club spread when Davis and Matt went back to Rice, and some other folks from Will Rice College also became affiliated members and got t-shirts. A problem arose because last month, Brian and Matt, came to celebrate PPR Day, without their t-shirts. Quelle horreur! What should the punishment be? It was the second rules violation for Brian and the first for Matt.

To deal with this and any subsequent problems with affiliated members, they have created a list of punishments (shown below). For the first punishment, the violator can choose and perform one item from the list. The second time they must complete two items. The third time they must do three. Etc. Each time different items must be chosen. No repeats. She had originally thought that violators would need to do 19 of the 30 activities for each violation, but we talked her into softening her position.

1. 19 sit ups
2. 19 push ups (no girl push ups)
3. 19 cart wheels
4. 19 somersaults
5. 19 backwards somersaults
6. 19 toe touches
7. 19 crunches
8. 19 laps around Rice University (this is for affiliated members only)
9. 19 jumping jacks
10. 19 scissor steps
11. 19 hand stands
12. 19 donkey kicks
13. 19 piggy back rides
14. 19 skips
15. 19 broad jumps
16. 19 duck walks
17. pig stools for 19 seconds
18. 19 bunny hops
19. 19 runs up and down the stairs
20. walk 19 steps with a book on your head
21. 19 calculus problems (this option is for Matt only)
22. blow up 19 balloons
23. 19 cherry pickers
24. 19 free throws in a row (if you miss you start over)
25. do 19 favors for people
26. 19 runner's stretches
27. make 19 different funny faces
28. 19 sword fights in a row
29. make 19 different funny noises

I think Matt and Brian will have their shirts ready to go on February 19th. Don't you?

An Idiom and an Inaccuracy

January 25, 2009

I think I am getting the hang of Blogspot, although I have not completed all the link repairs yet. Along with getting a new web space, I used the unexpected weather closings to buy a new computer (which arrived yesterday) and to hire a new internet service provider with the oh-so-much-more-convenient cable modem option. Here is an example of my newly developing skills: Erin doing her best imitation of Alfalfa from Our Gang. In fact, (with apologies to those of you reading on dial up) I have sprinkled a few more photos in some of my earlier posts this month.

January has blipped by quicker than I could adequately capture it on the web. Erin's first soccer tournament is coming up on the 3rd of February, so practices started week before last. Choir and bells have geared back up, and horse back riding will resume as soon as the ground firms up, probably next week. Erin was glad to put it off another week, since it freed up time on Tuesday afternoon to whoop it up at Jackson's 10th birthday party! Today was the fourth grade field trip to Huntsville and the Sam Houston State Park and Museum. All I have heard about it was that she made cornbread. It tasted good. And no, she didn't save any for me.

For the last year or more, Erin has given up the "children's" tapes and CDs that had been the staple in our car life for years: Raffi, Sharon, Lois and Bram, and the other musicians who sing those impossible-to-get-out-of-your-head-but-too-silly-to-sing-in-public songs. Instead we listen to grown-up music--some folk, some rock, some Beatles--but mainly just stuff from the mom library. Last weekend Erin had the idea that we needed to listen through some of her old stuff to see whether it would suit cousin Emma's tastes so we could pass them along.

So we were driving around town, singing "Ten in the Bed and the Little One Said, Roll Over" and "Everybody's Happy, Well I Should Say" happy as clams. I eyed Erin in my rear view mirror and delighted in watching her bright eyes and shining smile as she sang along, surprising herself that she remembered all the lyrics so easily. After a while the traffic picked up and our pace slowed. And finally, after stopping for a train, crawling behind an overloaded semi for a mile or more, and finding myself stopping for yet another traffic signal, I said to the air, "We're catching all the lights this afternoon."

Erin paused mid verse, considered for a moment, then said, "That's an idiom and an inaccuracy."

To which I glugged "Huh?"

Erin went on: "You didn't actually 'catch' a light. It just turned red, so you had to stop. That makes it an idiom. It's an inaccuracy because we didn't stop at every light."

To which a glugged "Huh?"

What I meant was "Why are we having this conversation? Shouldn't I be the one teaching you the definition of idiom? Where did all this come from?" But before I could actually get the words to form, she was back on task, belting out "Jack Was Every Inch a Sailor, Five and Twenty Years a Whaler."

Healthwise, Erin is mostly on track. Her bowels flare up every once in a while, but it has ceased serving as a common topic of conversation in the household. Last weekend her cough had worsened enough that I actually stopped by the pediatrician's office after I picked her up from the sleepover to have the on-call doc take a listen. He didn't hear anything suspicious, so I chalked it up to one more little viral thingy picked up from the germhaus.

Walter and I are driving down to Houston tomorrow. Can you believe it? Erin doesn't have an appointment. Davis isn't on the itinerary. We going to a dinner and providing a little consultation. Mostly, we are taking advantage of the romance package at the Marriott Renaissance--think champagne, strawberries, and breakfast in bed.

With a swimming party on tap for Saturday and a grandmother set to do sitting duty, I have a sneaking suspicion that no one (meaning Erin) will even notice that we're gone.

Don't Lean In

January 20, 2009

Sometimes I feel like Doris Day. Not the perky, chipper Doris Day who always figured out how to do her job and snare Rock Hudson, while looking stylish. No, I am the Doris Day in Please Don't Eat the Daisies who had to actually think of all the ways her children might misbehave (before they actually did) and warn them NOT to do whatever it was. Left to their own devises, they would eat the daisies in the table decoration before guests arrived because no one told them not to.

Now, I am not about to go on a rant about Erin, who though not a perfect child, is certainly one who can recognize in advance something that might get her into trouble, even if she had had no warning. No, once again I'm on a tear about Willie.

I guess I should have said,

"Willie, don't eat your father's exercise mat."
"Willie, don't eat your father's gloves."
"Willie, don't pull photo albums off the shelf and eat their covers."

and most recently,

"Willie, don't eat that African giraffe mask I bought your father for Christmas."

not to mention,

"Willie, don't eat the puzzle piece that says 'Davis Mountains' on it."--Davis thought this was a tribute to him and a sure sign that Willie's misbehavior was due to his absence and Willie's loneliness.

So, other than walking Willie around and around the lake in this nasty weather, attempting to tire him out enough so that we could leave him alone for a couple of hours each day and not come back to further destruction, we haven't done much. I have been surprised at how long Erin's hyperactive bowels have continued to, well, act hyperactively. Things have resolved to the point that she is in the bathroom only a couple of times a day, and most of the problem has been converted into gas. This is not necessarily the solution sought by most socially-active nine year old girls.

I think the cold and icy weather this week has put us all together a bit too much. With soccer and horse back riding both put on hold this week, we have found quieter, more indoorsy pursuits. Erin spent most of the day on Martin Luther King Day working on a project about French Texans for school. What? You didn't know there were French Texans? There were at least as many French Texans, apparently, as there were Greek Texans and Norwegian Texans, which were topics assigned to a couple of Erin's buddies. Here's a shot of Erin with Jackson, Aaron, Noah, and Jesse who all received awards at the academic assembly. Erin's was for Texas History.

We also put the finishing touches on a 1000 piece puzzle of the State of Texas (thank you Marsha, we loved it!), less of course, the piece depicting the Davis Mountains. One morning as we sat hunched over the puzzle, all three dogs lying calmly at our feet, Erin muttered something. I didn't hear her clearly, and thought maybe she was hoarding the piece I was looking for, so I bent towards her, and she said, much more loudly and distinctly, "Mommm. I said, DON'T LEAN IN." This further convinced me that she had the piece I needed, so I leaned in even more. At that point I discovered, through olfactory evidence what she meant. So, if you are ever by a cute red head who hisses, "Don't lean in," my advise is to heed the warning.

On the cancer, as opposed to the bathroom, medical front, blood counts went well this week. Everything was normal but her hemoglobin, which was just a hair shy of normal. We have been excused from the mid-month Bun/Creatinine test next week because of boringly normal levels the previous three draws. With that news in hand yesterday afternoon, Erin bounced happily to a birthday sleepover at Samantha's house where all kinds of quilting and sewing projects kept everyone busy until late night.

This gave Walter and I a chance to dine out for his birthday without worrying about finding and paying a sitter, AND to sleep in this morning without having to jump up and administer the 6:00 chemo. Erin's a bit tired this afternoon, but mostly just biding the time until 7:00 when Nico will arrive back from his week-long trip to Florida.

Lost in Space

January 17, 2007

Wow! Talk about a surreal experience. I have been lost in cyberspace for a week. That's right. I was just walking down the road last Thursday, minding my own business, updating Erin's website and fielding congratulatory e-mails from Erin fans thrilled by the news of stable scans, when oops, gravity lost hold, and I floated off into a black hole. Actually, it was probably a worm hole since I ended up at a different URL. Anyway, unlike Major Tom, ground control rescued me, and I'm not permanently lost. The company that hosted Erin's web page went out of business and did not make accommodations to handle customers like me who only used the free personal space. I am trying to piece things back together.

For now, I have managed to get this update posted, and I am working on ways to get all the familiar screen links, including the archive page back up and at 'em.

Same Old, Same Old

1/11/07

Erin had stable scans again yesterday and has signed up for three more months of the same old, same old. For those of you keeping count, that would be rounds 14, 15, and 16 of oral etoposide along with the recently added celebrex chaser. Also for those of you keeping track, this marks 22 months since relapse of wonderful, fun-filled life.

I have let out a long woooooohoooooo and relaxed my white-knuckle grip on the world around me. I can never really tell how wound up I get before scans until after I get results. If I have insulted, ignored, or pestered you lately, please accept my apology. If I haven't, it wasn't for lacking of trying.

Our day went well yesterday, all things considered. We didn't wreck going to or from Houston. We didn't get mugged. A tiger didn't eat us. We did have the usually fits and starts, crappy little (and large) delays, and so on. BUT, we also encountered people trying their hardest to get things right, trying to help ease our day along, and generally keeping their sense of humor in the faces of obstacles and burdens. We tried to do the same.

We managed to see Davis and a couple of his buddies for dinner before heading home last night. Things are off to a rolicking start at Rice U., and I guess the only surprising thing about the evening was how much food the guys socked away, knowing that they were heading for soccer practice pretty much as soon as they left the table. I do have some newsy bits about the last week to share and will do that when I update the Davis Report and add some photos to the site tomorrow. In the meantime, I actually need to get ready to start the semester next week.

Thanks for your faithful support. It means so much to us all that we don't walk this path alone.

A Setting on the Washing Machine

1/4/07

Normal--a setting on the washing machine. See also: college students sleeping until noon; school-aged children complaining about bedtime on a school night; young dogs misbehaving when they don't get enough exercise.

Erin is finally feeling a bit more like her old self after feeling poorly for so long. She is still not 100%, but she her appetite has returned. She has not run fevers and with one or two exceptions is not complaining of aches and pains. Her tummy and digestion has not returned to normal yet. She still has loose stools and (she would kill me if she read this) stinky gas. She had leg cramps this morning. I hope that is not a warning that her potassium has slipped again (when we finally got it measured last Thursday it had returned to high normal, and everything else was fine, too). Counts yesterday were lacklustre, but not really worrisome.

We did manage to extend Christmas into the new year. All the Dallas-area aunts and cousins made it to town, and we had quite a lot of fun with them. I think Davis and Walter are always slightly overwhelmed by so many women/girls milling around. The big hit of Christmas has been the sling monkeys that came in the Christmas stockings. Surely, I don't have to explain what a sling monkey is, but for the untutored: Imagine a small, stuffed, superhero monkey, wearing a black cape and a mask over its eyes. Inside the fur of its arms is strong surgical tubing. If you put your fingers in its hand pockets and pull back on its tail, it can FLY. . . very far. When it lands, it lets out two very loud monkey screams. Click here, if you don't believe me. Only your imagination can limit the possible uses for a sling monkey.

Saturday Erin had close to a dozen friends over to play. The occasion? Davis's Christmas gift to her was to make silk screen t-shirts for her whole PPR club (they are a club, not a gang). The kids played in the very rain-filled ravine behind the dam, while Davis and I created shirts. We were all tired and dirty by the end of the day. Who was tireder? Who was dirtier? The bet's on me.

New Year's Eve we witnessed the battle of the neighboring tribes, who must have spent thousands of dollars on professional grade fireworks to light up the night sky and welcome in the new year. The first Black Cats started popping around 6:00, and there were not many moments from then on void of action in the skies over Leisure Lake. At one point, I saw a dad sprinting towards his car, his first grade daughter calling after him "Buy LOTS daddy so we can beat them!" A couple of other fireworks bugs gained uncountable style points by taking their jon boat out and shooting a sequence of aerial rockets from the water along the dam (at the time I questioned the use of matches and punks, with residual sparks and embers, in a small gasoline-powered water craft, but luckily, no one was blown to smithereens.).

Erin had the great fortune of spending New Years night with Ayesha in their wonderful new home in Round Rock. Any of you experiencing normal winter weather may be jealous of the amount of time the two girls got to spend in the heated indoor pool that overlooks the deer grazing by along the trail by Brushy Creek. And you should be. It's difficult to imagine a more perfect way to spend the first day of the year. . .and the second.

Another highlight of the past week has been the daily e-mail correspondence between Erin and Chet Edwards. Chet had to go on complete voice rest (no talking or even laughing) until two weeks after his scheduled January 15th surgery. Erin vowed to email him everyday until he could talk again, so that he would know that at least one person was thinking about him. She explained to him that it takes a lot of help to get through tough things. I think that is a lesson she has learned from all of you Erin Fans. Surprisingly, he has also been quite faithful in writing back. I'll ask Erin for her permission to share some of her missives.

I guess that's it for the update. Everything around here is getting back to normal. Erin started back at school yesterday. Davis will head back to Rice tomorrow or Saturday. Walter flew for Atlanta out this morning to a gathering of historians. I'm updating the website instead of doing chores.

Next Wednesday Erin will have quarterly scans. Please lift us up and focus on stable or improved disease. We'd really love it if the etoposide has continued to work and if the Celebrex has chipped away a little more on the tumors.

Merry Delayed Christmas

12/27/06

Merry delayed Christmas to everyone. We certainly enjoyed the peace of the season and all of us hauled in more than our deserved share of largess. Davis served as liturgist in the morning service on Christmas Eve and read the lesson at the family worship on the afternoon. Erin both sang and rang handbells at that service, as well. I jumped in with my trombone for the prelude music at the evening service, but we all took a pass on the midnight service, so we could be at home at a decent hour.

Walter and Moo had to do their performances at home, since they missed out participating at church. Moo rendered a rousing version of "Twas the Night Before Christmas," and Walter read the Polar Express (managing to do so without crying, which is more than I can say for yours truly, when that is my Christmas Eve duty).

Christmas will continue all week as various aunts and cousins arrive on their own schedules. What could be better than taking the Twelve Days of Christmas literally?

Erin attempted a blood draw yesterday, in hopes of officially being released from the Potassium Tablet Regimen (I say "officially." Unofficially we stopped the dreaded K on Saturday because it caused so much tummy upset. I just thought it was doing more harm than good for her to lose her meals to vomit or loose bowels and to punish her with stomach cramps, as an added bonus.). I was also eager to see if the indicators of infection were back in line with where they should be and if her immune system still needed a boost.

Unfortunately, Erin's veins chose yesterday to be particularly small and rolly. Her favorite nurse could not hit the vein after three tries, so we gave it up, did a finger stick, and left (I believe this torture is going to cost me bathroom furniture for the doll house--there's always a price). With a finger stick you can get a read on white count (low, but okay, showing no infection this week), hemoglobin (slightly low, but okay), and platelets (robust, probably because she hasn't been participating in her usual dangerous activities).

I am still concerned about Erin's diminished appetite and general lack of energy. She seemed pretty normal at Nico's Bunko party yesterday afternoon, but then ate very little at dinner and slothed about until bedtime. This would probably not be concerning to some people (in fact a calm rather than frenetic child might be a welcome relief), but a cancer parent often interprets anything out of the ordinary (and sometimes ordinary things) as a sign that something bad is happening inside. Erin has scans in two weeks, so this concern may be the usual pre-scan anxiety (remember I have written about this before). Relapsed neuroblastoma patients don't usually get twenty-one months of progression free, high quality life. Still, worrying will not keep cancer away nor stop it in its tracks if it's growing, so I will set the worrying aside, unglue Erin from whatever she is doing in her room, and go outside to enjoy the brilliant sunshine and unscheduled day.

What Sugar Plums Dance in Your Head?

12/23/06
What Sugar Plums Dance in Your Head?

The Buengers have myriad answers.

Erin:

• Personal Energizer batteries (it's a bummer running out of steam just when you get to good part)
• A visit from Santa (who may or may not be a real guy, but who's willing to chance it?)
  
• Fewer pills (hard to tell the difference between the viruses and the medication side effects)
  
• That Chet Edwards' delayed throat surgery (January 15) comes out all right, and that he doesn't drive J.T. and Garrison crazy with the summoning bell she suggested

Davis:

• Sleeping in (no explanation needed)
  
• Grades he deserves (is there any other kind?)
  
• That Dean Forman drinks a hefty stein of eggnog for Christmas, then logs on and makes a fatally blundering move in the correspondence chess match

Walter:

• That he regain his stamina (no joke here, just a sincere wish to put the Erin-born viruses behind him)
  
• That he enjoys Davis and Erin and the holiday (Again, no joke here)
  
• All problem faculty from the history department volunteer to teach at A&M's campus in Qatar
  
• No more destructive, wall-paper eating dogs
  
• No more garbage-eating dogs who ingest so much extra stuff that their feet don't touch the ground when they nap on their sides
  
• No more dogs who are almost blind and definitely deaf who wander off after dark and don't come back unless someone stands in the cold and dark calling their name for a half hour

Luke:

• Someone to chew his food (preferably steak tartar) for him,
  
• While rubbing his belly,
  
• And not complaining about the wonderful odors slipping from between his back legs

Uma:

• No one but her getting attention
  
• A closer garbage dump (the walk is getting a little onerous)
  
• A tiara

Willie:

• Someone putting a giant chew stick (12 feet tall), full of tasty wooden, plastic, and glass morsels right in the living room
  
• A daily walk with strategically placed piles of leave desperately needing someone to pee on them (another reason not to jump in random piles of leaves)
  
• An adversarial bunny residing in the nearby tank farm willing to wait coquetishly every morning at 6:00, cotton tail erect, to lead him on a merry romp, and thus delay his real walk by fifteen minutes

Vickie:

• The soccer dream: She shoots. She scores.
  
• A dark chocolate chip and pecan cookie warmed on the lip of the coffee cup each morning before the children awake
  
• Healing for all the children with neuroblastoma and peace for their families

Other than Willie, do you think anyone else's wishes will come true? I'm counting on it!

Power of Positive Thinking

12/21/06

When Walter and I came home last night at 9:30 from dinner out, we found Erin playing poker, perky as a bunny. It's been a while since I used perky and Erin in the same sentence.

She told me it was the power of positive thinking. Davis had told her to tell herself, "I feel good. I feel well." over and over again until it came true. That, a little pixie dust, some prayers, and a Z-Pak will work wonders.

IVIG Aborted

12/20/06

Well, the short version is that Erin ran a fever on Monday while the nurse was doing vitals to prep for the IVIG (intravenous immuno globulin) infusion and they could not go ahead with it. Pause...Erin just wandered in and asked me if I was going to write about the "stinky" day we had on Monday...Resume. I don't think I'll give you the whole run down about how the triage nurse had it on her mind to stuff us right into the hospital without passing go and didn't really want to hear my non-medical opinion that Erin had her port out last March and didn't need to be cultured or hospitalized when she ran a fever. The question I asked was, could we have the IVIG infusion with a fever or should we just go home before we made other people sick. We were only there four and a half hours before we got an answer. . .go home. We didn't need to hear it twice and were on the elevator before you can say scat. We grabbed Davis and his meager basket of essential stuff and headed down the highway.

The longer version would include the story of the Erin who hasn't felt well since the last update. Until today everything pointed towards viruses that just needed to run their course. Today, Dr. Parr found an ear infection and heard a little rattle in her chest. So, Erin started a Z-Pak, and I think she feels a little better already.

It has been so strange to see our little trooper so down and out. She hasn't eaten much in a pretty long time and is lethargic. Her cough could wake the dead, and she is breathing more shallowly than usual. I can't wait for her to feel better so we can get back to our normal routines, another of which was thrown off last night.

We had waited to put our Christmas tree up until Davis got back from college. Yesterday he and Erin picked it out together. It is by far the largest we have ever had. Davis had to do battle with it to cut it, to carry it home, and with Walter, to get it set up in the living room. All the while I made Erin rest so she would feel like putting on ornaments in the evening. We sat down to dinner, where Erin ate eight bites of green chile chicken tamales, got the chills, recorded a temp of 103.1, took a Tylenol, and promptly fell asleep. It put a damper on the festivities.

Today (post Z-Pak) she is feeling well enough to complain of boredom and ask when Walter and I are going out so she can watch television. Things must be getting better!

Hopefully things will get better quickly and I can post a livelier update before Christmas. In the meanwhile, all of our thanks and appreciation go out to our friends who have given up their lunch for Erin. She has earned 314 ornaments thanks to your generosity. I wish I could express my gratitude to each of you in person. It truly resonates the spirit of the season when people busy with their own joys and families can take the time to think of those like Erin, and actually go to the effort to do something to make them better off! Thank you, thank you, thank you.

P.S. We at least had the good news on Monday that Erin's potassium levels had improved and were now merely low (not extra low). Perhaps by next week she can be off the K-tab for good.

Immuno Compromise?

12/15/06

Medical Update--Still good on the cancer front. It's the normal germs that are getting us down.

Erin always fools me. Like the combat soldier that says "Bring it on," she gets up and attacks each day anew. Somehow, over the last month, I let her mesmerize me into believing that she wasn't that sick. I kept telling myself that her cold symptoms were improving, that surely the stomach cramps and lethargy form the gastroenteritis were about to wind down, that she always gets a cough this time of year. Taken in combination with her immunocompromised body, it just isn't true, as her blood count numbers told us yesterday.

White Blood Count--2200 (this is low and has been this level for weeks with no improvement)
Absolute Neutrophil Count--1400 (this is low, but not too dangerous. If she entertained a bacterial infection, she could probably fight it off)
Hemoglobin--11.4 (this is a bit low, probably a result of virus)
Platelets--199,000 (this is normal, but much lower than she has been running. Again a sign of general ill health)

Plus, her blood chemistry was a bit wonky. Especially the potassium. You never want to scan the lab report and and see LL next to one of the numbers. That means Extra Low, which is why Erin has added potassium tablets to her medical regimen, at least until she recovers. Why does potassium drop? Poor diet and diarrhea. Well, that explains that and also why she has lost five pounds in the last month and why we've had to message her cramping calves at night..

Dr. Russell also tested the three components of Erin's immune system. Surprisingly the IGM, which measures the ability of the digestive system to fight off microorganisms was normal (perhaps finally recovering), but both the IGG (which makes up 80% of the body's immune system) and the IGA (not a grocery store) were low. On Monday, Erin will have an infusion of immunoglobulin, which is like getting a plasma transfusion of thousands of people's immune components mixed together. We're hoping this will boost her back to good heath and help her make it through cold and flu season without further difficulties. Nobody really wants to spend their first day of Christmas holidays in the clinic for five or six hours, but since we had to be in Houston to pick Davis up anyway, we thought we might as well get it done with.

Here's to a healthier holiday!

One non-medical update: Erin thanks everyone who has given up lunch for her. She has received 199 ornaments in the week since I posted the request. That is awesome, and we couldn't appreciate it more. Neuroblastoma is a complicated disease, and we do not know enough about it. Every lunch is one step closer to discovering the silver bullet, which is what we are pinning our hopes on.

One More Thing

12/7/06

Just one more thing to add to yesterday's entry. If you have four minutes, take a look at this video of Spencer Dolling. He has had neuroblastoma as long as Erin has. Erin and Spencer are the lucky ones. They have great lives!

Left You Hanging

12/6/06

Didn't mean to leave you hanging. A variety of things have intervened that kept me from updating, but count that as your good fortune as it means more chapters in the saga...

Check out The Davis Report for Chapter 4--Matt and Davis Do the Microplex

Chapter 5--The Household Changes Sizes

Part of the surprise of Thanksgiving was that my sister, Katherine, didn't make it down to Bryan. She succumbed to a violent stomach bug and stayed at home in Sacche weathering the storm. She did, however, send my niece Emma to enjoy the holiday festivities. Emma stayed when the rest of the family went back to Dallas on Sunday afternoon, and Erin and I got to enjoy "the little parrot." Emma is at a very cute age (22 months), where her vocabulary is expanding exponentially, and she likes to try out every word she hears (since I save cursing for very special occasions, this has not been a problem, so far). For a variety of reasons, it looks like my mom and I will have Emma at least through the 15th, and perhaps through Christmas. What I have forgotten about caring for toddlers could fill Reed Arena, but I remember the main rules: love 'em, feed 'em, rest 'em, change 'em.

Chapter 6--'Tis the Season to Be Germy

Sharing and caring. That sums up Erin's philosophy of ordinary childhood illness. Don't have a germ? Get one. Have an extra germ? Pass it on to someone who might not, through no fault of their own, have enough.

Erin's head cold lingered through the week after Thanksgiving, but blood sample evidence, taken on that Thursday, indicated that she was getting better (ANC up a full 1000 points from pre-Thanksgiving levels to 1700). I, on the other hand, found myself host to an increasing number of cold symptoms (sniffles, phlegm, sneezing, lethargy), none debilitating, all irritating. The tiredness and under-the-weather feeling persisted for both of us. Erin even had the nurse call home on Friday with a request that I pick her up early. Of course, when I got there, she had learned that all her buddies were staying at the park after school, and she was no longer rearing to go home. A little head cold didn't stand in her way to see the Live stage production of Scooby Doo on Saturday afternoon either.

Saturday night, Sunday, and Monday were a different matter. Erin somehow picked up the stomach bug circulating in the neighborhood, despite multiple layers of protection from the carriers. We stopped giving her Celebrex when she stopped eating, since it tears the stomach up pretty bad if not taken with food, and Erin wasn't willing to risk eating anything that was going to come out the other end in an unrecognizable format. True to form, she shared with me the gift that just keeps giving.

Through it all, Walter has stood like a rock, but today it looks like chinks are beginning to appear. He stayed home this morning to read in his chair. I wish him a quick recovery. I should have warned him to beware red heads bearing gifts.

Chapter 7--Putting the Semester to Bed (short and sweet)

Those of you used to the circadian rhythm of the semester may have noted that the goings on in the Buenger household of the last couple of weeks have coincided with the end of the academic year. Walter and I have been grading like beavers, holding students' hands who now wish they had studied and attended more when they had the chance, and listening to litanies of unsolvable personal crises.

I also had to confront cheaters.

I can't give you the details but let's just say that the Aggie Honor System Office is now on my Buddy List and my speed dial.

Chapter 8--What's Next?

The Buengers are ready to embrace the Christmas season, as soon as we can get it all together. Erin has another week and a half of school, with a routine clinic visit to Houston on the 14th. We will drop by Davis's that day and pick up anything he won't need during finals but wants to have in Bryan over the holidays. Walter and I should be done with finals and (fingers crossed) grading before then. Davis's has four finals, including Organic Chemistry on Saturday morning, December 16. He'll be done on the 18th, and we will retrieve him then and officially begin Christmas!

Chapter 9--Lunch for Life

It's that time of year again!

PLEASE GIVE UP YOUR LUNCH FOR ERIN.

Children's Neuroblastoma Cancer Foundation has launched this year's Lunch for Life. Once again, we are getting into the holiday spirit by asking folks to give up their lunch to help find and fund a cure for neuroblastoma.

Here’s how it works: Each child has his or her own virtual giving tree, and your donations will decorate those trees with ornaments and (ultimately) presents. Every donation you make on Erin's behalf has three effects: 1) her tree receives one ornament for every $5 you donate; 2) every donation generates a Giving Code that gets Erin bonus ornaments if you pass it on to a friend to use; and 3) each ornament creates one entry for that child into our Disney World giveaway. For example, if I give up lunch all week ($5/day) and donate $25 to Erin's tree, she gets 5 ornaments on her tree and 5 contest entries. I also get a Giving Code to pass along. (PLEASE NOTE: Erin's Giving Code is 21147) When a tree is full (500 ornaments), those ornaments transform into a present underneath that tree, and the decoration process begins all over again.

I just visited the link and it took less than a minute to give up my lunch! If you're skeptical, spend some time on the Lunch for Life website. ALL FUNDS raised through Lunch for Life go directly to support neuroblastoma research and initiatives. Erin might not benefit from the research, and it might not save her life, but we hope it will. We want to wipe neuroblastoma off of the face of the earth!

A Multi-Chapter Story

11/28/06

So much time and so many events have passed since my last entry that I have to do this in chapters. . .

Chapter 1: Alabama Folly

Walter and I got away for a long weekend before Thanksgiving--the first time together and alone since Erin relapsed in March 2005. Our prime time, A-list destination? Birmingham, Alabama. . . to a history convention. Does the man love me, or what? We traveled uneventfully, and only tempted fate once. That was the night we decided to walk twenty blocks from our hotel to a restaurant, when it looked like waiting for a taxi would take too long. Did I mention we had walk through (poorly lit) industrial Birmingham? Did I mention we had to cross a bridge over an impressive set of railroad tracks (designed to carry iron ore into the city and steel products out, and perhaps to serve as a hobo outpost)? Did I mention how stupid we thought our choice was upon later reflection? Oh well, at least we had the brains to have a taxi ride home.

After that, we had no place to go but up. And up we went. . .to Walter's college roommate's house in Tuscaloosa. Moses Mortimer "Mort" Swaim and his lovely wife, Minunie, and their daughter Monnish live within blocks of the University of Alabama ("ROLL TIDE") in an 1835 plantation mansion that takes up most of a full block of the city. The whole Swaim family were gracious and lively hosts. Friday night we hung out in the ballroom (how many folks do you know that hang out in their very own ballroom), fully equipped with deluxe sound system with three pedestal mikes, Peavey speakers, a sound board, a full trap set plus a variety of other rhythm instruments for the less rhythmically gifted (tambourine worked for me). Mort played along on the drums with the oldies (I'm sorry. . .classic rock tunes) on the sound system, while the rest of us kept time, danced, and sometimes sang into the microphones. A life-sized Elvis statue accompanied us on guitar in the background (and if I ever get pictures, I promise I will post them). If I remembered any of the rest of our trip, I would tell you about it.

Well, I do remember one thing. Mort picked us up in Birmingham, and we made it home before Minunie did. When she walked in, she had spent the day at Silver City gambling the slots. She walked in (I'm not making this up) a $16,000 winner. The kitchen had signs that this was not the first time this had happened to her!

Chapter 2--While the (Gumby) Cats Are Away

Erin had an extremely big time with the mom and dad unit out of the way. She hung out with her buddy Noah on Thursday and Saturday and spent the night with the Tjoelkers Thursday and Friday night. She was completely amazed (and I might add impressed) with the lifestyle differences at her friends' houses. The Tjoelkers, for instance, did not make her eat oatmeal either morning for breakfast, and apparently made her a lunchbox lunch without her having to find the school menu and prove that what was being served was inedible.

The biggest news was that her parents chose the weekend of the Bryan school district's UIL championship to leave town. Erin was competing in a new event this year, Oral Reading. She chose "The Gumby Cat" by T.S. Eliot and "The Mischievous Dog" by Dylan Thomas. According to Erin, she barely made it to the finals because she forgot to do her introduction and busted headlong into the poems. In the end she took first place and was happy to celebrate with her friends Aaron Wunneburger and Tori Saenz who tied for first in Music Memory. Considering there are sixteen elementary schools in Bryan, with three students competing in each event and only four events for fourth graders, I would say that Mary Branch did really well. They may even have done better than those three mentioned, but I didn't get any more out of Erin on the topic.

Chapter 3--Our Return

Our return trip to Bryan went off smoothly, though we arrived to find Erin suffering from a pretty crummy head cold. She had had the sniffles due to seasonal allergies for at least a couple of weeks before that. I was not excited about having blood work done, knowing full well that a cold could take her white count down far enough so that we would have to go off chemo (perhaps for as long as a week). There was also the added disadvantage that she would have to get a venal puncture this time rather than a finger stick, because we needed to measure BUN (blood urea nitrogen) and creatinine to see if the celebrex was still causing problems. Erin squeaked by with an ANC of 700 (below 500 was the trigger). The BUN was still elevated, but had not gotten higher, so we (Erin's doctor and I) have decided on waitful watching (or is it watchful waiting?) to see if it will come on back down over the next round or so.

The head cold has continued on, with the addition of nightly fevers. Davis explained this process to me. When the body doesn't have a strong enough immune system to fight off a virus, it heats up (runs a fever) in hopes of burning up the viruses that it can't clobber with lymphocytes. Erin and I both celebrated especially hard last week about the decision to have her port removed last March. The port would have solved the problem of the vein stick on Wednesday, but would have landed us in the hospital for at least a three day stay over Thanksgiving. Talk about something to be thankful for!

I'm not through yet, but I have to leave the office for the second shift, which starts soon. I haven't decided whether to add Chapter 4 here or in the Davis Report. Whichever it is, it probably won't be until tomorrow or Thursday.

Dodge Virus

11/15/06

Somehow Erin managed to dodge Nico's virus, even though he spent Wednesday night with us, traveled with us to Houston and back on Thursday, and sat by Erin at Ian's birthday dinner on Friday evening. It's a good thing, too! Erin needed every bit of he strength and energy she could muster to play four games of soccer last weekend, plus sing in a trio (would have been a quartet if Nico had been there) at church on Sunday morning. The Chilis played their hearts out, advancing to the finals on two shut outs and a 1-0 loss. Sundays' championship couldn't have been any tighter (2-1, Red Hot Chili Peppers over the Golden Angels). I have added those photos to the photo page. I also updated the Davis Report (remember the French pronunciation) yesterday.

Mountain of a Week

11/10/06

What a mountain of a week! Last Saturday Erin's soccer team finished off the regular season with a 2-0 win over the second place team, leaving them undefeated with only two goals scored against them for the entire season. Tomorrow is the end of season tournament with 150 minutes of soccer spread over three games--plus a championship game on Sunday if they do well on Saturday. Go Red Hot Chili Peppers!

After a short post-game rest last Saturday, Erin showered and got dolled up in new Aggie duds. We met Chet, Lea Ann, J.T. (10), and Garrison (9) Edwards at the MSC. As part of the festivities, Chet introduced Erin to former President and Mrs. Bush. You may or may not know that the Bushes lost their daughter Robin to leukemia when she was four years old. Perhaps because of that or perhaps because they are genuinely kind people, they both took time to visit with Erin, even to the point of setting their dinners aside briefly. I received pictures of the evening (both at the Presidential buffet and at the game in the President's box), but I had to wait. Becky Gates (married to A&M President and soon-to-be Secretary of Defense Bob Gates) and Lea Ann Edwards served as Erin's photographers, and you may not have noticed, but they both had very busy weeks this week. Luckily, they found my pathetic pleas through email and send me at least one photo before they erased their cameras' memories.

During the Presidential buffet, Chet took Erin and his sons around visiting with various knots of people, mostly receiving best wishes for the upcoming election. Later, when I asked Erin how it felt to be introduced to so many different people, she showed a little bit of pre-teen-a and said, "Well, it was like this," and then she put on her mimicking voice and postured, "Aren't you the cuuutest little thang! Oh, what a cute picture that would be. Smile. Look this way. Smile. Oh your so cuuute. Smile. Look at the camera." I told her we didn't have to do anything like that again if it bothered her and that in all likelihood the photo takers were really only snapping pictures of Chet. She looked at me like I was an idiot and said she didn't mind smiling for a photo. In fact, it was one of her favorite things to do.

We eventually stopped politicking and sat down to eat. Garrison sat between Lea Ann and me, and Chet sat between J.T. and Erin. At some point in the meal, between rapidly flowing conversation and clattering forks, Chet looked over and noticed Erin was eating everything on her plate, except her piece of roast beef. Without missing a beat, he reached over and cut her meat into bite-sized pieces for her and without a word about it, continued his conversation. Now, I don't think cutting other people's meat is necessarily a skill you have to hone to be a good Congressman (in fact, it might bother your colleague if you cut up his meat for him at a Congressional banquet), but it sure told me that Chet was a clued-in dad, and not someone who just gathered his family around him for the photo op.

It was a great experience to get to know the Edwards family. Lea Ann is not only beautiful, but smart as a whip and very down-to-earth. Chet took a large supervisory role over the kids, giving us plenty of time to chat about a whole range of topics. The boys fit Erin's notions of fun friends, and it was really amazing how quickly and completely they took to each other.

The game was splendid, except the outcome. The kids watched the game (on the field, on the big screen in the end zone, and on the tv right above their heads), played cards during the slow parts, and spent a good deal of the time cutting up. Luckily, the really serious fans were sitting pretty far down the way. The man sitting directly next next to them (the rumor passed through the box that he owned a 54,00 square foot house in Beverly Hills. NOTE BENE: that's smaller than a WalMart, but large enough to divvy out 10,000 square feet to each of his five children, including the toddler and the 13 and a half month old) didn't seemed to mind them too much. He even took the time to teach them some card tricks. During the second quarter we took the children down to the decks so they could actually experience the crowd and the feel of the game. We watched half time from the first deck, and Erin has been humming the Aggie War Hymn ever since. She was also particularly amazed at how the band just turned itself into a marching ATM. I think Erin's only real disappointment of the evening was that we rode the elevator down from the box at the end of the game instead of running round and round the ramps to the bottom.

Those of you who know the Buengers personally, know that the magic of the week didn't end on Saturday night. We all stayed up late celebrating on Tuesday night as Chet led the way for incumbent Democrats to hold their seats and for Democratic challengers to win races across the country. I don't think I've seen Walter this happy since he became department chair, and certainly not this happy over an election since 1992. Erin and I figured that Chet was fairly confident in his race or he would have spent the last Saturday before election day campaigning or smoozing or both. The real surpise of the week, though, was that Chet, who had to be in Houston on Thursday for a personal matter, agreed to meet us at Texas Children's Hospital that morning and tour the facility. He was eager to learn what it was like for a child with cancer and what the prospects were for research funding for doctors in the field. I think Erin's doctors impressed him and vice versa.

The medical side of Erin's clinic visit also went well. Her hemoglobin and platelets were solidly normal. The white count and ANC were unimpressive, but better than they had been the last two weeks and just fine for week three of a three-week chemo cycle. Her AST and ALT numbers had crept up a little, probably a signal that she was fighting off a virus (which would be consistent with the nasal sniffles I've been hearing in the mornings and evenings). The only concerning number in the whole set of counts was her BUN. Yes, that is something that doctors actually measure in your blood. It was high, but not dangerously high. Celebrex can raise the BUN, but it is also a indicator for general health and nutrition. I'm guessing that as we have climbed the mountain of a week, we may have depended too heavily on granola bars and jerky, and not brought enough fruits and vegetables along. Now that I think about it, the snack bar in the President's box wasn't overly laden with cumquats and pomegranites.

Anyway, the bottom line was that Erin will start the eleventh cycle of oral etoposide in about a week and continue taking Celebrex every morning and evening. We will have our BUN measured again in two weeks I think I will start tuning into late night television or the Shopping Network to try to find one of those BUN reducing gizmos. It could only help.

Glimpses of Erin

11/7/06

Vignette 1--Erin and mom walking the dogs, chatting, and enjoying the beautiful weather last week.

Background: We eat fairly healthily at our house. Not absurdly healthy, but fairly healthy. Oatmeal once or twice a week, no sodas, limited breakfast meats. Walter has also made a big push to eliminate Trans Fats from our diet. For some reason (maybe because her parents dropped several yummy foods from the grocery list solely because they contain "partially hydrogenated vegetables oils," ie. Trans Fat), Erin is more afraid of Trans Fats than she is of cancer. We're not even allowed to say the words Trans Fat in her presence. It's TF or nothing.

Erin: "Mom, I have a question."

Mom: "Shoot."

Erin: "When I get married . . ."

Mom looks quizzically and wonders where this is going.

Erin (continuing): "And my mother-in-law invites us all to Thanksgiving dinner at her house. . ."

Mom still has no idea where this is going, but she really hopes that the scenario plays out some day, because it will mean that Erin has survived.

Erin: "Will dad come, even if my mother-in-law cooks with TFs?"

Mom, trying to make sense of this whole conversation and wondering how Erin ever got the idea that avoiding artery-clogging foods would be more important than attending a family holiday gathering: "Erin, your father loves you more than he hates TFs. Of course he would go to Thanksgiving at your mother-in-law's house."

Erin: "Would he eat?"

- - - - - - -

Vignette 2--Same scene, a few minutes later. The conversation has wondered to whether dad would ever retire.

Erin: "Do you think dad will ever retire?"

Mom: "Maybe."

Erin: "When he does, do you think he'll be like uncle Dave?"

Mom, thinking what a kind and interesting person Uncle Dave is: "I hope so."

Erin: "So, he'll have all white hair, learn to play golf, and grow a round, little belly in front?"

Mom corrects that impression, then goes on to give convoluted answer about retirement: "Well your dad will probably step down as department head in a few years, then later, he'll stop teaching, but he will probably always do research and read and write books. I doubt if he'll every play golf, and I can't really picture him with a round, little belly in front."

Erin: "Oh, so he'll be like one of those guys that sits alone in a dark corner, reading?"

Mom, thinks to herself: "Not a dark corner. He'll have a three-way bulb or maybe a compact fluorescent bulb, or maybe both. And he definitely won't be alone. I'm sure he'll have a dog at his feet and probably one in his lap."

- - - - - - -

Vignette 3--Riding in the car with mom (Mike, this one is for you.)

Mom has had a hard day and a hard week. She has had intractable, hard-to-figure out problems coming at her from her neighborhood, her family, and her students. She's mumbling to herself that she can't solve everybody's problems.

Erin looks up from the backseat and asks what's the matter. Mom doesn't want to share the burden or give any specifics. She just says, "Oh, sometimes I get into trouble thinking I have to control people's lives and solve their problems. I need to keep my eyes on my own paper (as Bob Leslie always said)."

Erin gives me a sweet smile and says, "You should just cut back on the number of people whose lives you control. You're really good at it."

Mom, thinking what a meddling fool she is, looks up in the rearview mirror. Erin winks and says: "Wisdom from the mouth of a child."

For those of you waiting to hear about game day with Chet. I am going to hold off for a day or two, in hopes that his wife Lea Ann sends me some of the photos she took of Erin, Chet, and their boys, J.T. and Garrison. I will preview that entry, by telling you that we had a wonderful time, despite the score of the game, and that our bubble about what a wonderful Congressman we have has not been burst.

If you haven't voted today, log-off your computer right now and go out and do it!