Spring has Sprung

03/29/07

The full blush of spring has overtaken the Brazos Valley, making me feel lazy and romantic. I don't want to rush away from the Dutch irises in the front bed to hunker down at the office with a set of reports or blue book exams. I don't want to stop long enough at my computer to update Erin's website when I could just as easily wander out and see what message the heart-shaped leaves unfurling shyly on the red bud tree have for me.


Solution: Do the update while I'm teaching.

My students are beaving away at their midterm exam, so the computer has beckoned me over for a short interlude. The benefit? I don't accidentally fall asleep while proctoring the test, and readers don't get stuck with last week's news.

Not that I have that much to offer. Erin is handling the added schedule pressure of playing soccer and softball simultaneously. Her first softball game was pretty even, and the girls looked like they had a passing familiarity with a ball and glove. The second game was a slaughter, with Erin's team barely able to bat around the order before the game ended. Personally, Erin is on much more solid ground with fundamentals of soccer than softball. She played second base last game and understood the concept of covering the bag on throw downs (which she did pretty well). The problem arose on potential doubles, where she so intrepidly kept her eye on the runner rounding first that she would have been beaned from behind had any of her teammates had the sense or ability to throw the ball in from the outfield. She did make one of the only put outs for her team (besides strike outs) when she fielded a grounder and successfully made the throw. It was one of the few highlights on a very short reel.

I wish I could tell you that Erin's ears had improved mightily from the round of Omnicef. She'll finish the course tomorrow, and she still feels like she has a banana in her ear. Hopefully, the ENT doctor will get a handle on it during our visit in the morning. In the meantime, we'll stop by the dentist after school. Maybe she has done such a lousy job brushing that the plaque build up has overflowed into her ear canal.

Davis got the news that his time trials last Saturday were fast enough to put him on Will Rice's Beer/Bike team. He told me he did the "Willie smile" for thirty minutes after his race and for thirty more minutes after he was named to the team. Here is a picture of the "Willie smile."

It's Davis's imitation of Willie where he draws his lips tightly back so his teeth show and then pastes on a big smile. They both look simultaneously ecstatic and ferocious when they do it.

Keep us all in your prayers over the next week. Erin, Nico, and I will leave for Houston Tuesday evening for an all-day scanfest on Wednesday. We sure would like to see stable or improved pictures this time. Davis has Maundy Thursdsay and Good Friday off from school, so we will drag him back with us so the Easter bunny will know where to find him. For my part, I'm going to try and be as brave as Elizabeth Edwards, who doesn't want cancer to keep her from doing anything this week that she could or would have done last week. The Buenger's won't be prisoners to cancer either.

Anniversary Retrospective--Oops, a long one

03/21/07

Ear update: Yesterday's trip to the pediatrician turned up normal blood counts in every category, including a hemoglobin of 12.0 (slipping back into the normal category for the first time since Thanksgiving). One ear had cleared of infection, but the other merited a fourth round of antibiotics. What's up on the hit parade? Omnicef. I made an appointment with the ENT for next week to see what is going on.

How do you celebrate anniversaries? A night out on the town? A quiet dinner at home? A gathering of your forty closest friends? A daring trip? A silent soliloquy to yourself in your journal?

That question leads to the next. Why do we mark them at all? Perhaps we want to celebrate how long we’ve been at something or to note that it’s been so long we can’t possibly be at it for that much longer. Sometimes we use them to reflect on what is past and to hope for the future. Sometimes we just marvel at the unlikelihood of it all.

I can remember going steady for the first time as a young girl. I think we marked anniversaries by the week (this was before we knew what the “anni-“ in anniversary actually meant). No one expected those early boy/girl things to last long, so if you were going to celebrate, you had to do it by the week. Later, it was a Special Occasion if we actually reached A Year together. When I married Walter (1984), I changed my perspective. At first I was sort of bummed that our anniversary number from dating zeroed out and we had to start the count over. But from Day One we had an agreement. We weren’t counting on staying married forever. We contracted for sixty-four years. After that we gave each other permission to re-evaluate and either sign up for more or withdraw from the contract. We made jokes after a year. . .”And they said it wouldn’t last.” Last October we hit 22 years. Still a decade before we reach halfway, but so far, so good. I’m withholding judgment about whether to re-enlist until we get a lot closer to 64 (like 63 and a half).

This week anniversary mean something different. We are celebrating three rather different anniversaries in the Buenger household: one year since Luke overdid on a beautiful spring day like yesterday and found himself the unwilling butt of many I’ve-fallen-and-I-can’t-get-up jokes, one year since Willie chose our house as his personal teething ring, and two years since Erin relapsed with neuroblastoma.

We still have Luke. He is no longer spry. In fact, he’s beyond pokey. But, he eats heartily every morning, can “hold it” until he gets outside, and will still hobble up the stairs for a treat and a pet. Luke is on the way to fifteen years old, ancient for a yellow lab. When we think back over the last year (which included high dollar, synthetic drugs and doggie water aerobics), we celebrate how long we’ve enjoyed this pup and note how few grains he has left in his hourglass.

Willie’s one-year anniversary as a member of the household means so much more. Given the longevity of the Buenger pets, I can only wonder what (if anything) he will leave behind. I mean, we only have so much stuff. For an incomplete (yet growing) list of items eaten by Willie click here. Place your bets on whether we will run out of “things” before Willie needs dentures, and join us in marveling at the unlikelihood of it all.

Some of you know how joyous (and unlikely) celebrating two-year post relapse for neuroblastoma is. I guarantee it deserves more than a mention in the website update. It deserves a party, with floaty balloons and confetti. When you reach such a milestone, you should drink deep of the spirit of life all around you. Instead, Erin will walk the same path she does every day. She will wake and make the most of what she encounters, whether it is a spelling test, a chance to get together with Nico and company, a cozy book, or a rousing game of soccer.

I will watch her as she glides through her day and count the milestones: another class picture to add to the scrapbook, another pair of new Easter shoes (For a while my children marveled at how the Easter bunny knew their size and what would perfectly match their Easter outfit. Later they just assumed the bunny cobbled shoes on the side). I collect the moments and hold them like a talisman against a future I don’t want and probably can’t prevent. I sneak peaks at her when she won’t notice. She works in front of her mirror to get her hair up into tiny, toddler-sized pigtails. She faces the pitcher, no longer batting off a tee, smacks a grounder, and almost beats it out. I wonder what the next year will bring. None of us know, but we all want our full measure.

Now on to more lighthearted fare. Thanks to Michelle Braden for alerting me to the Starlight, Starbright Children’s Foundation contest. If you click on this link:

http://www.colgate.com/app/Colgate/US/Corp/CommunityPrograms/Starlight/HomePage/South.cvsp

you can vote for Texas Children’s Hospital to win a FunCenter. The five hospitals with the most votes will receive a FunCenter mobile entertainment system for patients use. This takes less than a minute, maybe less than ten seconds.

Another opportunity for you to help comes from George Stuart who plays with me in the Carter Creek Brass. He has traveled to Odessa (Ukraine, not Texas) on mission trips over the last year and has given special attention to an orphanage there. He hopes to go back before the end of the school year and would like to take musical instruments with him for the boys and girls (read more here). If you have a leftover band instrument sitting around your house, give him a call (979.229.4954) or an e-mail (gstuart2001@ hotmail.com) and help him out. Consider it part of your spring cleaning.

In the meantime, Erin is thriving. She finished her ranch project (see the map below) and got it to school Monday. The gang celebrated PPR Day on Monday with a full crew (perfect attendance). We have not heard if the affiliated chapter at Rice had an equally good turn out. Maybe not. Yesterday Erin rode, and Napoleon did much better than he had lately. I think they switched back to the bit they had used earlier and he responded much more eagerly to her commands.


The only question mark continues to be her ears. She does not have ear pain, but they remain congested, with muffling. She completed the course of amoxicillin last Friday (3/16), which is, as you may recall, the third sequential course of antibiotics (along with cefzil and Z-pack) for her ears since the last week of January. She reports that her ears seem somewhat improved, in that she can clear them momentarily by holding her nose while blowing out, but they do not remain open. Related (possibly?) to that is a weird thing I saw when I was watching the Weather Channel night before last. An ad for Singulair came on, and as part of its disclaimers noted the mild side effects of taking it, INCLUDING EAR INFECTIONS. We’ll run this past Jesse Parr when we are in for blood counts this afternoon.

Thanks for reading all the way to the end. As you metaphorically celebrate Erin’s extra measure with us today, remember those children (and their families) whose time ran out too soon. We are thinking especially about Vince Lopez, who we met doing chemo for relapsed Ewing’s Sarcoma when Erin was doing outpatient chemo summer before last. He died night before last, too late to receive the honorary degree from Blinn College that had been given him by the faculty and administrators. His family will receive it for him at his memorial tomorrow. You can also browse Angel Warriors to learn the stories of children no longer in the earthly fight against neuroblastoma.

Home Schooled

03/14/07

Spring Break. What a relief. We go at it hammer and tong during the semester, so we really look forward to the unplanned, unscheduled days that always arrive just in the nick of time. Walter took Davis back to Rice Sunday morning. We miss him, but . . .we know he is incredibly happy and doing well academically and socially. That is what parents hope for.

Last night we had the most remarkable meal available in the Brazos Valley. Meatloaf might not sound like much to you, but if you consider that the entire meal (click on the menu shown below to enlarge it) was prepared and served by Erin, Nico, and Adam, you might change your mind. We had four appetizers: chips and salsa, trail mix, boats (snap peas stuffed with sesame sticks), and torpizzas (tortillas with pizza sauce, pepperonis, cheese, and olives), lettuce salad with mandarin oranges, croutons, sunflower seeds, and blackberry walnut dressing, a main course of meatloaf, French green beans, and baked potatoes. The dessert included brownies with a masterpiece sauce made from melted ice cream mixed with fresh kiwis, strawberries, and blueberries. They even cleaned up as they went, loading and unloading the dishwasher no less than three times over the course of the day as they prepared the various parts of the meal.
I am getting a little ahead of myself. Despite the fact that we have had five-and-a-half inches of rain since the weekend, we have really enjoyed ourselves. Erin played in a soccer scrimmage Sunday afternoon at left forward, right midfield, and center stopper. She looked better on the field than she has since last fall. Her eat-chocolate-at-every-opportunity weight-gain diet seems to be working. You can see her "bulging" muscles straining her UnderArmor as she trains Willie after the game. (I'm not sure he needs any more training on how to grab things in his mouth, but what do I know?)


Nico spent the night Sunday night, so they could take an early start on the PPR explorations they had planned. After breakfast, they geared up and headed behind the dam for several hours of animal tracking, plant identification, and general enjoyment of nature's laboratory. Next Monday is the real PPR Day (19th of every month, in case you have forgotten), and everyone will be over, so they took the chance to get things in order and take notice of new discoveries to share with the gang. Willie helped. As a prelude to the occasion, Nico composed this, "The PPR National Anthem." Feel free to sing along (you can see the words more clearly by clicking the image)!


After roving and tromping, they took a break for lunch and some errands (including making the first shopping run for the planned dinner party). When we made it back to the house, they took advantage of Annabelle's willingness to play with them for a while, devising a game that involved shaking a blanket like a parachute, while doing various maneuvers over and under it. One of the stages of the game involved doing a move while not making noise or laughing. This, apparently, was very difficult to accomplish.

The other days of the break have been equally loaded and equally fun. Sudoku puzzles, shared reading time, watching episodes of West Wing, a little gardening, a dash of house keeping. If I had only know that teaching science (PPR fun), music, P.E., the culinary arts, and history (last week's trip to SA), reading, and math (sudoku) was so easy, I might have been home schooling all along. NOT! I value free play way too much to buckle down to a curriculum. I'm just glad that there are dedicated educators willing to do it for me! Thank you teachers. You can have her back next week.

Health update: I almost forgot that some of you stop by to read the latest on the medical front. Erin's local clinic visit went just fine last week, except that Dr. Parr discovered that Erin had still not shaken the double ear infection that she has taken both a Z-Pack and a second round of a different (why can't I remember right now?) antibiotics for. That means we signed up for a third round: Amoxicillin this time, with the hope that it will do the trick. We had a message on the answering machine when we returned from San Antonio that Erin's blood urea nitrogen (you remember the infamous BUN) had crept up again. We will keep an eye on that in early April, when Erin returns to Houston for clinic AND quarterly scans.

Free Willie

03/10/07

What would you do? Let's pretend you have a dog who eats your house when he is indoors and who aggravates your neighbors to the point of distraction when he is left out. You are leaving town for four days, having just liberated him from the hoosegow at a cost of 100 smackeroos (fees plus generous donations to keep the shelter staff from putting him on the adoption/euthanasia list next time he backslides). You have found an angel to feed your various animals in your absence. What do you tell her about the now-free Willie? Mum's the word.

Actually, the trip worked out just fine. Willie only ate a little woodwork around the kitchen bar area and Davis's second flip flop. He was not arrested, detained, incarcerated, nor did he become a ward of the state in our absence. In addition, the Buengers all hung our together without fussing or even disagreeing much. We all considered it a major victory. San Antonio turned out better than I expected. It is still tourista extreme, but we managed to do our own thing a good amount of the time. Translation: no Sea World; no Fiesta Texas; no Splashtown; limited evening meals on the Riverwalk; only a brief trip by the Alamo (and fie upon the myriad of people who started conversations with Erin by asking her what she was going to do in San Antonio? Go to Sea World?).

We substituted plenty of walking; a lot of visiting with friends; a really bang-up reception hosted by the Texas A&M University Press and the A&M History Department (where Erin and Davis comported themselves like pros and kept the conversational ball rolling right along. Thanks Mary Lenn!); a trip to the Witte Museum; and a substantial dip into the "other" missions of San Antone. NOTE: This first image is not the Alamo. It is the Mission Concepcion. You can tell it's not the Alamo because it has two bell towers flanking the sides. The original Alamo was flat all the way across, unlike the second image below which most people are familiar with (that elegant hump in the middle was added about fifty years after the Battle of the Alamo).


As a side note, look carefully at the two photos above. Now guess which one is the object of a $30 million dollar fundraising effort by the Daughters of the Republic of Texas? If you guessed Mission Concepcion, you would be wrong. If you recognized that $30 million would fully fund all 90 planned NCI trials for pediatric cancer for 2007, you would be correct. Unfortunately, The Alamo sells; cancer trials and lesser-known missions do not.

Erin, Davis, and I actually spent quite a bit of time exploring the city, while Walter did the hard work of attending banquets and meetings. Here are some of the highlights:

Erin discovered a remnant of a tree with seating for two. Rosie wore her sun visor to protect her sensitive skin, but Erin caught the rays, au naturale.





She also fell in love with a family of ducks and duckling that lived not far from our hotel. There were five ducklings. Not enough really to adopt the monikers of the ducklings in Make Way for Ducklings: Jack, Kack, Lack, Mack, Nack, Ouck, Pack, and Quack. But we did it anyway. We just took the first five names and hoped the mother duck would sit again before the summer. This one is Lack. I couldn't tell that he (she?) lacked anything, except the will to hold still.






Perhaps the highlight of the trip for Erin was discovering a long tropical-like leaf floating by. With the help of some handy Duct-tape (not provided by Davis, who found himself in the nation's 10th largest city without his usual stash of DT. Instead, our dear old friend Larry Hill, who is recognized by all who know him as a Fine Figure of a Man, saved the day with a roll of regular colored duct tape that he found rolling around behind the seat of his pick up). With said duct tape, Erin transformed the leaf into a long canoe, suitable for transporting ear-plug people across the hot tub (there was a big pool, but the shade from the super tall building across the street kept the pool temperatures much too cool to swim, or boat , comfortably. Hence the hot tub.)


Luckily for us, we don't have to get back to the grind anytime soon. We have a week of spring break to dispose of before we have to go back to work. . .well all of us except Davis. Davis returns to Rice tomorrow to finish of the last seven weeks of the semester. I have all the confidence in the world that he will acquit himself in fine style. (Check out the Report soon, I will have details of several near arrests and, of course, details about the upcoming Beer/Bike Race.)

Mixed Emotions

03/07/07

I'm leaving soon to see if I can bust Willie out of jail. That is, if he is there. He went off missing yesterday after school and didn't come home last night. Erin thinks he might have gone down to the PPR ravine, wondered into the cow herd, and got trampled to death. Davis is sure that some dog lover found him, recognized his obvious value, and claimed him for his own. Walter is sure he is dead, flattened by a passing semi or shot by an angry homeowner who didn't want his bunnies agitated. I'm fairly certain he was smote down by a vengeful god, peeved by the Destruction of the Word. But, we heard through the grapevine that a neighbor thought her husband might have taken an animal fitting Willie's description to the Animal Shelter last night because they were afraid he might try to cross a busy road. So, on the off chance I am doing good by protecting the flimsy shelter cages from the destructo dog, I am WITH MIXED EMOTIONS going to see if he is there.

I have to do it now, because we leave for a four-day family vacation to San Antonio as soon as I get home. Sorry to have to keep you in suspense, but I'll let you know if I find him in the local equivalent to the Folsum County Prison when I return on Saturday.

Froth and Light

02/28/07

I couldn't believe Erin's blood count numbers yesterday.

WBC--7300 (solidly normal)
ANC--5500 (solidly normal)
Hemoglobin--10.6 (still lagging from the hard winter, but just fine)
Platelets--368,000 (solidly normal, perhaps even high normal)

These numbers have held for two weeks in a row (despite the fact that we are in the middle of week three of three in the 24th round of chemo since relapse in March of 2005). When these fantastic numbers showed up last week, I discounted them because I thought the infection she had and the Z-Pack she was on probably puffed them up a bit. BUT I have to tell you I was thrilled to see them again this week. It speaks to her overall health and reinforces the notion that she has put the winter behind her, much as Richard III did: "Now is the winter of our discontent Made glorious summer by this sun of York."

So happy am I about Erin's current health that I'm not even complaining about how the pace has picked up around the joint. Somehow two soccer practices plus a game each week morphed into two soccer practices, a game, and two scrimmages this week (this does not include my game and practice). Add this to the already scheduled horseback riding and the newly inaugurated piano lessons, and you get quite a marathon. Erin also took special care on a school project about Patricia Roberts Harris this week. I didn't know much about Secretary Harris, but I think Erin captured her essence in this short assignment. Here is what she wrote (I have left it in the exact form that Erin turned it in, punctuation errors and all. I think it is hilarious that her research turned up a reference to the incident with Bill Proxmire, but no description of it, so she just stuck it in because it sounded interesting and daring.):

The person I am writing about is Patricia Roberts Harris, an African American born on May 31, 1924 in Mattoun, Illinois. She lived in many interesting places including Chicago, Washington D.C., and Luxembourg. She dies on March 23, 1985 in Washington D.C. at the age of 60.

Harris had a lot of first for African American women including being the first African American woman in the cabinet (she was a Democrat!), the first lady African American chosen dean of a law school, and the first African American ambassador. In 1946 she was a program director for the Young Women Christian Association. She served as the United States secretary of health and services under president Jimmy Carter, and in that position had a very famous exchange with Senator William Proxmire. She also earned a partnership in a very large law firm.

I wish I could have met Patricia Roberts Harris because she was such a accomplished and good woman. Also, if I had met her I would have asked her what it felt like to be the first at something. What would you have asked?



As long as we are on Froth and Light, I'll show you one of the masterpieces Erin produced this week. I don't know about other children, but both of mine need downtime as much as they need activity in their lives. For Davis and Erin, downtime means holing up in their rooms and listening to audio books, while working on arts and crafts. I know, this doesn't sound relaxing to everybody, but it is to them. It also explains why I have a large investment in craft sticks, why empty paper towel tubes rain down on my head whenever I open the cabinet above the stove, and why pipe cleaners and glitter glue are permanent items on my shopping list. Besides this beautiful two-dimensional expression, Erin has also been building a castle. It has a long way to go, but she's not worried, there are a lot of audio books in the world. She told me I could take a picture and post it when she was done.





--

I didn't get this posted on Thursday (like many of you were hoping), so here is an add on. Erin and her soccer playing buddies played in and won a scrimmage against an older team last night, 3-1. We then loaded a couple of then into the van and headed over to the Aggie Soccer Complex, where the Houston Dynamos were playing against Puntarenas F.C. of Costa Rico. This was the second of a two game series for advancement to the semifinals of the CONCACAF Championship tournament. Since Houston lost the first game 1-0, they had to win last night by two or more to advance. We had great seats (five rows from the field, right near the midfield line) and could see everything: players heads cracking together when they went up to head the ball, sweat flying, and jersey grabbing. The girls also got an eyeful and an earful from the passionate fans that paraded around, beating drums and sounding horns. The picture at the left are the tamer ones. The rest looked like they had hitchhiked over from Mardi Gras in a tank truck hauling orange paint. Their language was as colorful as their outerwear, and I was momentarily grateful I had not yet started on Erin's bilingual education. The game also provide Erin an opportunity to work on pumping her weight back up to pre-Thanksgiving levels. What did you have for dinner last night? Erin had a hot dog, a huge tub of popcorn, a bag of skittles, cotton candy, and whatever Sam and Cat shared with her from their stash. I think she covered all of the main food groups, except chocolate. Junk food, just one more dimension of the cultural experience offered by el juego bonita.

What's up next for the intrepid Buenger clan? I'll leave in a couple of hours to fetch Davis home for his spring break (and to gather new bits for the DavRep). Uma, "the Martel of Dogs," is road tripping with me at Davis's request. I think he wants to prove to his buddies that such an obviously cat-like dog actually exists. Erin is walking home from school with Nico and company for a rousing Monopoly tournament this afternoon. Tomorrow, the Red Hot Chili Peppers face off against one of their big rivals. Erin has arranged for a little outdoor tromping around time tomorrow afternoon if the weather holds. Because she doesn't have to go to clinic in Houston this month, we decided to ditch school anyway and head to San Antonio at the end of next week. This gives Davis a little Spring Break vacation, and let's travel us a family to the Texas State Historical Association meeting with Walter.

I told you this was going to be froth and light. Not a serious thought has entered my mind in the writing of this entry. I had considered an entry organized around the theme, "Can Dogs Go to Hell?" in the aftermath of finding that Willie had eaten my Bible last week, but decided that weighty theological questions were out of place in an entry meant as dessert.

Ryan's Parable

02/27/07

I read the following parable on Ryan Malarkey's website and felt it spoke directly to the conversation I started with you last week. I will leave this up for today, then update you about Erin tomorrow (I promise).

A mouse looked through the crack in the wall to see the farmer and his wife open a package.

"What food might this contain?" The mouse wondered - he was devastated to discover it was a mousetrap.

Retreating to the farmyard, the mouse proclaimed the warning, "There is a mousetrap in the house! There is a mousetrap in the house!"

The chicken clucked and scratched, raised her head and said, "Mr.Mouse, I can tell this is a grave concern to you, but it is of no consequence to me. I cannot be bothered by it."

The mouse turned to the pig and told him, "There is a mousetrap in the house! There is a mousetrap in the house!"

The pig sympathized, but said, I am so very sorry, Mr.Mouse, but there is nothing I can do about it but pray. Be assured you are in my prayers."

The mouse turned to the cow and said, "There is a mousetrap in the house! There is a mousetrap in the house!"

The cow said, "Wow, Mr. Mouse. I'm sorry for you, but it's no skin off my nose."

So, the mouse returned to the house, head down and dejected, to face the farmer's mousetrap alone.

That very night a sound was heard throughout the house -- like the sound of a mousetrap catching its prey.

The farmer's wife rushed to see what was caught. In the darkness, she did not see it was a venomous snake whose tail the trap had caught.

The snake bit the farmer's wife. The farmer rushed her to the hospital, and she returned home with a fever.

Everyone knows you treat a fever with fresh chicken soup, so the farmer took his hatchet to the farmyard for the soup's main ingredient.

But his wife's sickness continued, so friends and neighbors came to sit with her around the clock.

To feed them, the farmer butchered the pig.

The farmer's wife did not get well; she died.

So many people came for her funeral, the farmer had the cow slaughtered to provide enough meat for all of them.

The mouse looked upon it all from his crack in the wall with great sadness.

So, the next time you hear someone is facing a problem and think it doesn't concern you, remember-- when one of us is threatened, we are all at risk.

We are all involved in this journey called life. We must keep an eye out for one another and make an extra effort to encourage one another.

CANCER IS EVERYONE"S PROBLEM! So, if you haven't sent your letters to your congressmen to stop the cuts in Cancer Research you can do so now. Go to the Curesearch site and pass the link on to friends as well! Thanks.

http://www.curesearch.org/news_and_media/news_article.aspx?id=4470

Write Congress, Right Now

02/20/07

(I added the Senators from the Senate Appropriations Health Subcommittee to the list of key Representatives to target, if you are checking back)

Looking for something frothy and light from this entry? Check again next week. What you are about to read is deadly serious.

I don't know if you saw the video clip that aired last week on the ABC News about the President's budget request as it affects funding for clinical trials for cancer. There are (at least) two points to think about when viewing the clip:

1. The heads of the Children's Oncology Group will have to decide which clinical trials get funded and which don't, which means deciding which children get treated with the latest available options and which don't. At the proposed funding level 20 of the 90 scheduled trials will be canceled (22%).

2. Children like Erin with rarer childhood cancers will be one of the groups most affected by these cuts.

This stuff makes me mad.

Fifty years ago only one or two out of every ten children diagnosed with childhood cancer survived. Some very hard-working and compassionate doctors pulled together to build cooperation and trust in the clinical trial system. Today about three-quarters of all children with cancer are treated under clinical trials (this compares to about 2 percent--not a typo--two percent of adults that take advantage of trials). Because of the rapid expansion of knowledge about treatment afforded by the use of clinical trials, the survival rate across the board for pediatric cancers has risen to 78%. This is good news and good science.

It is also necessary. Pharmaceutical companies are not that interested in developing new drugs to treat pediatric cancers because the market is too small (12,500 new diagnoses each year). Without the motive for high profits, there is market failure. When markets fail, governments have the obligation to step in and provide incentives. That's why it makes no sense to me to cut funding for trials. AND I'm not talking about billions of dollars. I'm not even talking about hundreds of millions of dollars.

Taking $9 million dollars from the budget for pediatric clinical trials is not trimming "waste, fraud, and abuse," it is taking 400 children further from their dream of surviving the nightmare of having cancer.

Don't get me wrong. I'm glad we have the drug that Erin has taken for the past fifteen months that has kept her stable. That drug was developed (for adults) in the early 1970s and has been cleared for use by the FDA for over thirty years. What I'd really like is progress in clinical trials of some of the agents that are not cytotoxic (poisons). As it is, each month that goes by, Walter and I have to weigh the positives of Erin's current situation with the real possibility that taking even low-doses of cytotoxins for an extended period will result in secondary cancers and other health issues. Progress can not happen fast enough for children like Erin. That is why it breaks my heart when clinical trials are delayed or canceled.

On the advice of our Congressman, Chet Edwards, who has been one of Erin's staunchest friends, we are looking for people around the country to help get the message out. Writing your Senators and Representatives is good, BUT IT WOULD BE EVEN BETTER if you lived in one of the districts we are targeting. These districts are represented by individuals on the Appropriations Subcommittee that decides funding for the National Cancer Institute. Check out the list below and see if you live in one of these districts or if you know someone who does (I have listed the biggest cities I could think of in each district, so if you are geographically challenged you might can still figure it out).

If you feel moved by what I have written Click Here. This will take you to a place that has the email address of every member of Congress, by zip code. You can do this RIGHT NOW.

Wisconsin-7th  (Wausau and Ashland look like the biggest cities)
New York-25th (Syracuse)
New York-18th (New Rochelle, White Plains, and Yonkers)
Connecticut-3rd (New Haven, Middletown, and Naugatuck)
Illinois-2nd (Chicago Heights, Park Forest, and Calumet City)
Rhode Island-1st (Providence, Bristol, and Newport)
California-34th (Los Angeles County, I'm not sure how much of LA,
looks like east and south east)
California-9th (Berkley and Oakland)
New Mexico-3rd (Santa Fe, Gallup, and Clovis)
California-15th (Santa Clara)
Minnesota-4th (St. Paul)
Ohio-17th (Youngstown and Kent)
Ohio-16th (Canton and Medina)
Pennsylvania-5th (State College and Lewiston)
Florida-15th (Kissimmee and Vero Beach)
Idaho-2nd (east part of Boise, Twin Falls, and Idaho Falls)
Montana-1st (whole state)

The following Senators serve on the Senate Appropriations Health subcommittee:

Tom Harkin (Chairman) (IA)
Daniel Inouye (HI)
Herb Kohl (WI)
Patty Murray (WA)
Mary Landrieu (LA)
Richard Durbin (IL)
Jack Reed (RI)
Frank Lautenberg (NJ)
Arlen Specter (PA)
Thad Cochran (MS)
Judd Gregg (NH)
Larry Craig (ID)
Kay Bailey-Hutchison (TX)
Ted Stevens (AK)
Richard Shelby (AL)
Note:  KBH has not signed on to the Conquer Childhood Cancer Act yet,
and needs to hear from all us Texans.

If you don't know what to write, you can go to CureSearch.org for more details. I also found this article by Liddy Shriver to be useful if you want even more statistical ammo.

Okay. So I can't resist a little froth and light. Yesterday was PPR Day! Erin and her buddies pulled on their PPR shirts and hit the wilderness behind the dam. I understand there was a problem again with the rule following in the Houston Affiliated Group of the PPR. More punishments were meted out.

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.