November 30, 2007
Think of famous partners: Ben and Jerry, Rocky and Bullwinkle, Abbott and Costello, Chet and Erin.
That's right. Chet and Erin. Congressman Chet Edwards and fifth grader Erin Buenger. Their co-teaching about government to the fifth graders at Mary Branch, scheduled for this morning and practiced together not at all, looked like they had worked together for years. The children were engaged the entire time and the real teachers may have had goose bumps watching. I know I did. Even better than the civics lesson, both Erin and Chet got plenty of plugs in for the Conquer Childhood Cancer Act. Two television cameras captured over an hour of tape each, including interviews with Chet and after he left, with Erin, about the bill (as the reporter Kristen Ross put the sound equipment on Erin for the interview, Erin noted--not in a braggy way, but just matter-of-factly--that she knew how to wear the microphone and battery pack because she had been on television before--both with a boom mike and with a clip on). I will post links to the stories once they air. For those of you who live in the Microplex, I think the story will be on Channel 3 at 6:00 today (Friday) and at some point of the Bryan School channel, but I'm not sure when.
Here's the first link: Bryan School District website.
Here's the link to the Channel 3 video. When we get back from the soccer tournament, I'll try to figure out how to get the video rather than a link to the video to display.
Wow! The list of people who made this happen is long. Thanks to Ali Kutzenberger and the fifth grade teachers at Mary Branch, Principal David Ogden, Sandy Ferris from the Bryan District office, Kristen Ross and her camera operators and assistants at KBTX, to Leah Cohen and Phil Shackelford from Chet's office, and most of all to Congressman Chet Edwards for making one girl, in particular, and an entire grade of children supremely happy today.
Friday, November 30, 2007
Wednesday, November 28, 2007
Hope This Cheers You Up
November 28, 2007
You know how it is. Some mornings things don't unfold like you think they should. That happened to me today. I had put off something until the last minute that I need to do before my first class at 9:30, but of course, Erin was doing her impression of slow and slower. I drummed my fingers on the dining room table and re-read the paper, while she took ten minutes to eat two L'il Sizzlers. I went up and brushed my teeth a second time while she moseyed her way through her fruit bowl. I pulled the car next door to transfer the dozen boxes Erin's school needed for their food drive from my mom's car into my van, while she nibbled at her toast. Finally, I gave her the green light on taking her meds, so she could find her shoes and do her bathroom duties in preparation for departure.
I carried her backpack to the car and remembered that the sensor for one of my tires had been lighting up every morning since the cold front came through. I had the idea of topping it off with the air compressor while I waited for Erin. I took a reading with my handy digital air gauge: 30.0 lbs. which explained the electronic warning. Thirty pounds is right on the cusp of where the sensor is activated. I hauled out the air compressor, plugged it in, and gave the right, front tire a big drink of air (aiming at 35 lbs.) I took another reading: 26.5 lbs. Oops. I must not have gotten the device seated. Another try, another reading: 23.0. Once more: oh no, 18.0 lbs.
By now Erin was in the van making noises like, if you don't hurry, mom, I'm going to be late for school. I told her to move her stuff into Walter's car and left everything else just laying around, knowing that I would have to make the round trip, figure out something to do about my tire and how to get the boxes delivered, and race to campus.
By the time I made it home, Walter had found a way to suck seven more pounds of air out of the tire, and now he was running as late as I was. Eventually, we put all of our common sense together with all of our advanced degrees and figured out that someone (named Vickie) had set the regulator of the compressor down to 10 PSI (when she aired up a dozen soccer balls last month) and had not returned it to its regular setting. The physics majors among us knew what was going on as soon as I started the story, and the rest of you had quickly figured out that the air pressure inside the tire had to have been greater than in the compressor tube, or we wouldn't have lost so much air so quickly. We would have probably figured it out when the tire pressure fell below ten pounds and started taking air again.
I made it to school with the boxes and to work in time to finish my unfinished business, barely. I felt a little off all day until I came up to my desk to do this entry. I found the rough draft of the letter Erin recently wrote at school as a project to support the U.S. soldiers in Iraq. Here is the actual letter, but I will also translate it for you below so that you don't have to squint:
Dear Soldiers,
"Hello!" My name is Erin. I'm a 10 year old girl living in Bryan TX. I was told by my teacher that you needed cheering up. So I told myself I would write about my life which is pretty interesting. Let me begin. When I was 5 years old I was diagnost with a type of cancer cald neuroblastoma which is a solid tomer cancer that happens when one cell starts to not obeay your body. My tomer was about the size of a subway sandwitch [she draws an oval here and says "like this but life size"]. For many months I spent my time in the hospital. Sometimes I had to stay through Christmas. Then, when it seemed like everything was getting better, I relapsed (meaning another tomer had grown), so I went through the process again and a third time too, for yet another tomer had grown. Then on my 9th birthday I went to D.C. to lobby for pediatric cancer funding (meaning money for children's cancer) because the medicine I have to take right know is 30 years old and at first only adults could use it. When I got to D.C. I met our Congress man Chet Edwards and we were best friends immediately. The next time he came to Bryan he invited me to an Aggie football game. I met his family, and we went to the Presidential buffet. There we met former President Bush. Later Chet sent me a flag that flew over the capital on my birthday when I was there. I lobbied again this summer and this time my friend Nico came with me (He will be writing too). Now I am a happy girl, almost normal except for my memories. By the way I'm very interested in politics and when I grow up, I'm going to be the President of the U.S. I hope this cheered you up.
Your Friend,
I have to say that reading over that letter made small potatoes of my not-very-good start to my day. I, too, hope this cheered you up.
You know how it is. Some mornings things don't unfold like you think they should. That happened to me today. I had put off something until the last minute that I need to do before my first class at 9:30, but of course, Erin was doing her impression of slow and slower. I drummed my fingers on the dining room table and re-read the paper, while she took ten minutes to eat two L'il Sizzlers. I went up and brushed my teeth a second time while she moseyed her way through her fruit bowl. I pulled the car next door to transfer the dozen boxes Erin's school needed for their food drive from my mom's car into my van, while she nibbled at her toast. Finally, I gave her the green light on taking her meds, so she could find her shoes and do her bathroom duties in preparation for departure.
I carried her backpack to the car and remembered that the sensor for one of my tires had been lighting up every morning since the cold front came through. I had the idea of topping it off with the air compressor while I waited for Erin. I took a reading with my handy digital air gauge: 30.0 lbs. which explained the electronic warning. Thirty pounds is right on the cusp of where the sensor is activated. I hauled out the air compressor, plugged it in, and gave the right, front tire a big drink of air (aiming at 35 lbs.) I took another reading: 26.5 lbs. Oops. I must not have gotten the device seated. Another try, another reading: 23.0. Once more: oh no, 18.0 lbs.
By now Erin was in the van making noises like, if you don't hurry, mom, I'm going to be late for school. I told her to move her stuff into Walter's car and left everything else just laying around, knowing that I would have to make the round trip, figure out something to do about my tire and how to get the boxes delivered, and race to campus.
By the time I made it home, Walter had found a way to suck seven more pounds of air out of the tire, and now he was running as late as I was. Eventually, we put all of our common sense together with all of our advanced degrees and figured out that someone (named Vickie) had set the regulator of the compressor down to 10 PSI (when she aired up a dozen soccer balls last month) and had not returned it to its regular setting. The physics majors among us knew what was going on as soon as I started the story, and the rest of you had quickly figured out that the air pressure inside the tire had to have been greater than in the compressor tube, or we wouldn't have lost so much air so quickly. We would have probably figured it out when the tire pressure fell below ten pounds and started taking air again.
I made it to school with the boxes and to work in time to finish my unfinished business, barely. I felt a little off all day until I came up to my desk to do this entry. I found the rough draft of the letter Erin recently wrote at school as a project to support the U.S. soldiers in Iraq. Here is the actual letter, but I will also translate it for you below so that you don't have to squint:
Dear Soldiers,"Hello!" My name is Erin. I'm a 10 year old girl living in Bryan TX. I was told by my teacher that you needed cheering up. So I told myself I would write about my life which is pretty interesting. Let me begin. When I was 5 years old I was diagnost with a type of cancer cald neuroblastoma which is a solid tomer cancer that happens when one cell starts to not obeay your body. My tomer was about the size of a subway sandwitch [she draws an oval here and says "like this but life size"]. For many months I spent my time in the hospital. Sometimes I had to stay through Christmas. Then, when it seemed like everything was getting better, I relapsed (meaning another tomer had grown), so I went through the process again and a third time too, for yet another tomer had grown. Then on my 9th birthday I went to D.C. to lobby for pediatric cancer funding (meaning money for children's cancer) because the medicine I have to take right know is 30 years old and at first only adults could use it. When I got to D.C. I met our Congress man Chet Edwards and we were best friends immediately. The next time he came to Bryan he invited me to an Aggie football game. I met his family, and we went to the Presidential buffet. There we met former President Bush. Later Chet sent me a flag that flew over the capital on my birthday when I was there. I lobbied again this summer and this time my friend Nico came with me (He will be writing too). Now I am a happy girl, almost normal except for my memories. By the way I'm very interested in politics and when I grow up, I'm going to be the President of the U.S. I hope this cheered you up.
Your Friend,
I have to say that reading over that letter made small potatoes of my not-very-good start to my day. I, too, hope this cheered you up.
Saturday, November 24, 2007
Great Visual Aid
November 24, 2007
I warned you. The free time flew out the window. I will now try to recall how this whole journaling thing works. I'll begin with three pics, representing some of the costume changes from 11/15: Erin and Jackson, with Ben Franklin (I couldn't convince the girl sitting behind me that this wasn't the original BF); Erin as ball girl, complete with tornado socks (and no, we are not sponsored by a barber shop); Erin and a bevy of Mystics bundled up at the Aggie game.
Hard to believe that Jackson and Erin are in the same grade with birthdays only months apart.
Erin was officially the first ball girl to handle a loose ball in the 2007 NCAA Women's Soccer tournament
I'm not sure what else to highlight of the last week and a half. Erin's IVIG went off without a hitch, if you don't count the slow start (arrival and scheduled start time: 9:00, actual start time: 11:50, total duration: ten hours). I guess you might say I was out of shape for the treatment world. I used to take ten hour (or longer) days in stride. I would certainly never run out of entertainment items. Last Friday's marathon at St. Joe's found me phoning Elaine at about 3:30, begging her to bring Nico by after his piano lesson because we were still facing another three hours of drip, followed by an hour observation, with not much left to hold Erin's attention.
Beyond that, things went fine. No allergic reaction. Hopefully, a more fully functional immune system.
I do have an unlikely Erin story to report. Erin's teacher asked her, Nico, and Farhan to teach a lesson about government some times in the next couple of weeks. Davis did the same thing when he went to Branch (although as I recall he taught his class about the concept of pi). What would you do if you had to do peer teaching? A little research, probably a poster, maybe a handout? Erin took a different tack. Last Sunday night she wrote her Congressman an email. Here's an excerpt:
I warned you. The free time flew out the window. I will now try to recall how this whole journaling thing works. I'll begin with three pics, representing some of the costume changes from 11/15: Erin and Jackson, with Ben Franklin (I couldn't convince the girl sitting behind me that this wasn't the original BF); Erin as ball girl, complete with tornado socks (and no, we are not sponsored by a barber shop); Erin and a bevy of Mystics bundled up at the Aggie game.
Hard to believe that Jackson and Erin are in the same grade with birthdays only months apart.
Erin was officially the first ball girl to handle a loose ball in the 2007 NCAA Women's Soccer tournament
I'm not sure what else to highlight of the last week and a half. Erin's IVIG went off without a hitch, if you don't count the slow start (arrival and scheduled start time: 9:00, actual start time: 11:50, total duration: ten hours). I guess you might say I was out of shape for the treatment world. I used to take ten hour (or longer) days in stride. I would certainly never run out of entertainment items. Last Friday's marathon at St. Joe's found me phoning Elaine at about 3:30, begging her to bring Nico by after his piano lesson because we were still facing another three hours of drip, followed by an hour observation, with not much left to hold Erin's attention.
Beyond that, things went fine. No allergic reaction. Hopefully, a more fully functional immune system.
I do have an unlikely Erin story to report. Erin's teacher asked her, Nico, and Farhan to teach a lesson about government some times in the next couple of weeks. Davis did the same thing when he went to Branch (although as I recall he taught his class about the concept of pi). What would you do if you had to do peer teaching? A little research, probably a poster, maybe a handout? Erin took a different tack. Last Sunday night she wrote her Congressman an email. Here's an excerpt:
Guess what? My teacher asked me and some of my friends to teach our class
about the government! (voting, the order of succession, how laws are made,
great documents, etc.) We have been looking up facts in the library and
on the internet. I plan to tell the class about the Conquer Childhood Cancer
Act. Did you know that the Senate version passed out of committee last
week. I think the House may get to it in January. My mom said that she
heard people say that President Bush may veto it. I think that may not
happen though, because he had a sister who died of leukemia.
Anyway, I thought to myself we will need a little help to do a good job
teaching the class, and I was going to write and ask your advice. This
morning, my mom told me that you were speaking in College Station on
November 30, so when my mom said you were going to be in town, I thought I
would invite you to come to my school. I know you have a busy schedule, but
I would love to see you and for you to meet more of my friends. Also, you
would be a great visual aid.
By 10:00 the next morning, she had a reply from Chet, and I had a message on my cell phone from his scheduler, Leah Cohen. After a couple of rounds of e-mail exchange between me, the teacher, and Leah, the deal was set. Erin will have her Congressman at her back when she teaches next week.
Since then, we have focused on what the rest of America has had on its play list this week. That's right. . . house cleaning. Partly because I had reports to grade hanging over my head, and partly because I had twenty people planned for Thanksgiving dinner, I spent the bulk of Tuesday cleaning. Much of it was mundane and not worth a mention, but I did clean both refrigerators and all three freezers, consolidating the good and throwing out the bad and ugly. Can you guess how many boxes of rectangular salmon I found niched in various frozen nooks?
If you answered twenty-two boxes, you would win the prize. I felt comforted knowing that if all else failed and we ran out of time to cook the turkey and the giant pork loin we had bought, we could issue each guest a box of rectangular salmon and still have leftovers on Friday.
Having put the cool storage devices in good shape, I ran to Houston (heavy traffic both ways--up hill, but no snow) to pick up Davis and Dillon (look for an update to The Report pretty soon). Since then, the Buengers have had a grand Thanksgiving with much food, relaxation, some games and movies, and of course incessant dish washer loading and unloading. Both Aunt Elisabeth and Aunt Katherine made it to town with their lovely daughters. I wish all of them could have stayed longer, but there is never enough time. Erin doesn't seem to have noticed that the daytime outdoor temperatures have bounced around from 85 to close to 40 over the last couple of days. She has romped it up with the visiting twins Mary Beth and Rachel next door, Clayton Sue from Fort Worth, and Nico, Adam, Samantha, and Pablo. She's made it to the movies twice, around the lake several times, to someone's barn in the country (Can you tell that she's not a first-born? I let her leave for parts unknown, just so that I can grab a couple of hours of unencumbered grading time.), and up and down the road a gazillion times. I have quite a bit more to tell you (along with some decent photos), but in the spirit of balancing grading with blogging, I'll stop now and give you some more later.
Since then, we have focused on what the rest of America has had on its play list this week. That's right. . . house cleaning. Partly because I had reports to grade hanging over my head, and partly because I had twenty people planned for Thanksgiving dinner, I spent the bulk of Tuesday cleaning. Much of it was mundane and not worth a mention, but I did clean both refrigerators and all three freezers, consolidating the good and throwing out the bad and ugly. Can you guess how many boxes of rectangular salmon I found niched in various frozen nooks?
If you answered twenty-two boxes, you would win the prize. I felt comforted knowing that if all else failed and we ran out of time to cook the turkey and the giant pork loin we had bought, we could issue each guest a box of rectangular salmon and still have leftovers on Friday.
Having put the cool storage devices in good shape, I ran to Houston (heavy traffic both ways--up hill, but no snow) to pick up Davis and Dillon (look for an update to The Report pretty soon). Since then, the Buengers have had a grand Thanksgiving with much food, relaxation, some games and movies, and of course incessant dish washer loading and unloading. Both Aunt Elisabeth and Aunt Katherine made it to town with their lovely daughters. I wish all of them could have stayed longer, but there is never enough time. Erin doesn't seem to have noticed that the daytime outdoor temperatures have bounced around from 85 to close to 40 over the last couple of days. She has romped it up with the visiting twins Mary Beth and Rachel next door, Clayton Sue from Fort Worth, and Nico, Adam, Samantha, and Pablo. She's made it to the movies twice, around the lake several times, to someone's barn in the country (Can you tell that she's not a first-born? I let her leave for parts unknown, just so that I can grab a couple of hours of unencumbered grading time.), and up and down the road a gazillion times. I have quite a bit more to tell you (along with some decent photos), but in the spirit of balancing grading with blogging, I'll stop now and give you some more later.
Thursday, November 15, 2007
What Free Time?
November 15, 2007
Oh, the hubris of middle age. When I spotted some free time on the horizon, I should have said nothing, not even a whisper. Certainly, I shouldn't have made an announcement to what passes as the world at our house.
Not counting switching out of and into pajamas, how many costume changes do you make every day? Maybe one if you work out? Today Erin requires three. I didn't figure this out until I woke up this morning.
The fifth graders from Erin's school had a mini-field trip planned for today. They got to see a Ben Franklin impersonator (Is this like an Elvis impersonator only better? Worse?) over at the George Bush Presidential Library. Erin and her buddy Jackson Ross, also had the honor of introducing this event. We knew this ahead of time and had chosen an outfit (skirt, top, vest) that was a cut above the usual school attire so she would be presentable as well as presenting. Thus, my surprise when Erin arrived at the breakfast wearing shorts and a sweatshirt.
It seems that Erin's P.E. class was having some sort of skills test in the hour or so before she left. Obviously, she couldn't perform at her best without the right apparel.
So, what's the big deal? She dresses sloppy, sweats a bit, switches into classier raiment, and calls it good. Except, that's not her only scheduled costume change. At 3:00 this afternoon, Erin and some of her teammates will don their Mystic '97 uniforms (complete with candy cane socks) and serve as balls girls for the University of Texas/Brigham Young soccer match, which kicks off the NCAA tournament. After that game, we'll grab a box lunch and some tickets and head to the stands for the A&M/SFA match.
Hopefully, all of this action today will put Erin into the mood to hang out at the hospital tomorrow. Her IVIG infusion is schedule to start at 9:00 (thanks to both Jesse Parr, our local doc, and Heidi Russell our onc doc for getting this set up here rather than in Houston). If all goes according to plan, we'll be done by mid afternoon and her juiced up immunoglobulin G will get to work straightaway.
I don't expect this to be any more than tedium. Supposedly, if they infuse slowly enough she won't develop a headache or hypertension during the process. I want her in tip top shape for UIL tomorrow. She and Jackson are representing Branch in the district tournament in Number Sense.
So, you can see my alleged free time went poof and vanished. Too much free time is no longer a problem and my estimated completion time for the Proust monstrosity has already been revised to reflect that new reality. Patrick Lacey, Will's Dad, commented on Tuesday's entry that The Master and Margarita by Mikhail Bulgakov would also make you beg for less free time. Which leads to my next question: what have you read that made you beg for less free time?
On the advocacy side, I have great news (great being a relative term that implies a pinch of progress toward the passage of the Conquer Childhood Cancer Act, where up to now there had been no visible progress). The Senate Committee considering the bill discussed it yesterday and passed it on to the full Senate for later consideration. I copy from the CureSearch web site:
The Conquer Childhood Cancer Act was considered in the HELP [Health, Education, Labor, and Pensions] committee and was passed unanimously, without amendment, and after minimal discussion or debate. This brings us closer then ever to passage of this legislation.
On that last thought, if you still have a Senator(s) not signed on this bill (as I do) the time is ripe to up the pressure. My staff-approved canned response for Senator Kay Bailey Hutchison included the line: "Should S. 911 come for consideration before the full Senate, you may be certain that I will keep your views in mind." I will now let her know my views AGAIN, so that she can keep them in mind.
Oh, the hubris of middle age. When I spotted some free time on the horizon, I should have said nothing, not even a whisper. Certainly, I shouldn't have made an announcement to what passes as the world at our house.
Not counting switching out of and into pajamas, how many costume changes do you make every day? Maybe one if you work out? Today Erin requires three. I didn't figure this out until I woke up this morning.
The fifth graders from Erin's school had a mini-field trip planned for today. They got to see a Ben Franklin impersonator (Is this like an Elvis impersonator only better? Worse?) over at the George Bush Presidential Library. Erin and her buddy Jackson Ross, also had the honor of introducing this event. We knew this ahead of time and had chosen an outfit (skirt, top, vest) that was a cut above the usual school attire so she would be presentable as well as presenting. Thus, my surprise when Erin arrived at the breakfast wearing shorts and a sweatshirt.
It seems that Erin's P.E. class was having some sort of skills test in the hour or so before she left. Obviously, she couldn't perform at her best without the right apparel.
So, what's the big deal? She dresses sloppy, sweats a bit, switches into classier raiment, and calls it good. Except, that's not her only scheduled costume change. At 3:00 this afternoon, Erin and some of her teammates will don their Mystic '97 uniforms (complete with candy cane socks) and serve as balls girls for the University of Texas/Brigham Young soccer match, which kicks off the NCAA tournament. After that game, we'll grab a box lunch and some tickets and head to the stands for the A&M/SFA match.
Hopefully, all of this action today will put Erin into the mood to hang out at the hospital tomorrow. Her IVIG infusion is schedule to start at 9:00 (thanks to both Jesse Parr, our local doc, and Heidi Russell our onc doc for getting this set up here rather than in Houston). If all goes according to plan, we'll be done by mid afternoon and her juiced up immunoglobulin G will get to work straightaway.
I don't expect this to be any more than tedium. Supposedly, if they infuse slowly enough she won't develop a headache or hypertension during the process. I want her in tip top shape for UIL tomorrow. She and Jackson are representing Branch in the district tournament in Number Sense.
So, you can see my alleged free time went poof and vanished. Too much free time is no longer a problem and my estimated completion time for the Proust monstrosity has already been revised to reflect that new reality. Patrick Lacey, Will's Dad, commented on Tuesday's entry that The Master and Margarita by Mikhail Bulgakov would also make you beg for less free time. Which leads to my next question: what have you read that made you beg for less free time?
On the advocacy side, I have great news (great being a relative term that implies a pinch of progress toward the passage of the Conquer Childhood Cancer Act, where up to now there had been no visible progress). The Senate Committee considering the bill discussed it yesterday and passed it on to the full Senate for later consideration. I copy from the CureSearch web site:
The Conquer Childhood Cancer Act was considered in the HELP [Health, Education, Labor, and Pensions] committee and was passed unanimously, without amendment, and after minimal discussion or debate. This brings us closer then ever to passage of this legislation.
During the mark-up, Senator Jack Reed of Rhode Island, one of the bill's sponsors, emphasized to his colleagues on the Committee that parents and advocates have a right to have a voice in how their tax dollars are spent. The childhood cancer community has a powerful and passionate voice and has used it well. Over the past several months thousands of letters have been sent by childhood cancer advocates to their Members of Congress and information about the Conquer Childhood Cancer Act has appeared on hundreds of parent web pages, list servs and blogs. We are grateful for your impassioned, relentless support!
There is still much work to be done and many challenges lie ahead. The bill now needs to either pass by unanimous consent by the full Senate (which is unlikely) or to be voted on by the full Senate. If the latter happens, we will need 60 yes votes in order for the bill to pass the Senate.
Please continue to reach out to those Senators who are not yet co-sponsors to secure their support.
On that last thought, if you still have a Senator(s) not signed on this bill (as I do) the time is ripe to up the pressure. My staff-approved canned response for Senator Kay Bailey Hutchison included the line: "Should S. 911 come for consideration before the full Senate, you may be certain that I will keep your views in mind." I will now let her know my views AGAIN, so that she can keep them in mind.
Tuesday, November 13, 2007
Free Time
November 13, 2007
While the Lady Aggies and Davis may still have matches left in their seasons, Erin's Mystic '97 and my SMC team closed the book on our seasons last weekend. At first I thought I'd have to coach Erin's final game with her sitting beside me on the bench.
The previous Saturday, her team had done a miserable job with air balls (in soccer, as opposed to basketball, air balls are not necessarily a bad thing. It just means the ball's trajectory moves through the air rather than along the ground. It also often means that you have to stop the ball, midflight, with some body part other than your foot.). I can't really imagine why smallish children would duck when sharply struck balls zipped towards them rather than directing them down to their feet with their foreheads or maybe even their soft underbellies, but ducking, followed by chasing was the dominant strategy for that game. Anyway, because of that shortcoming in their collective game, Elvis spent time on air balls and heading in practice last Tuesday. At the end of the drill he encouraged them to practice at home. As encouragement, he told them that anyone who couldn't do two consecutive headers, without catching the ball in between would have to do fitness (translation: run repeated sprints) the whole practice on Thursday.
Well, Erin forgot to practice heading on Wednesday, leading to a tearful bedtime on Wednesday night. I reassured her that she could take a ball to school on Thursday and practice at recess and again after school if she needed to. Unfortunately, even after two practice sessions, Erin couldn't bop the ball up in the air twice without catching it. She was in a funk and didn't want to go to practice.
I tried calming words ("I'm sure it will go better once you're out at the field."). No use.
I tried logic ("It's unreasonable to believe that Elvis could actually expect anyone to run sprints for an hour and a half.)." No use.
I tried a lot of other things.
Finally, I tried guilt. "Erin, you can't just skip practice. People are depending on you. You can't let your team down. You signed up to play soccer. If you don't want to practice, you shouldn't sign up for soccer next season."
To which Erin replied, "That's just it, mom. I signed up for soccer, not for fitness. I want to play soccer, not just run sprints."
To which I replied. . .well I couldn't think of anything to reply (note bene: even though I had no reply, I made Erin go to practice anyway, because I didn't want to bench her for her last game).
Luckily for me, Elvis had a plan. After about fifteen minutes the entire team had successfully headed the ball at least three times in a row, including Erin who mastered that feat no fewer than six times in that fifteen minute period, and no one did fitness.
I'm not sure if that was the key, but the Mystic '97 closed out their season with their only shut out, a 3-0 win that convinced me that they knew something about soccer and maybe even a little bit about handling air balls. Afterwards, we celebrated surviving our inaugural season with a cookout.
One of the dads had offered to cook hamburgers for everyone, and another dad brought a large round pit (think something that might be mistaken for a small UFO on a dark night) to the fields that could handle dozens of burgers at once. I didn't know if anyone had actually taken responsibility for cooking the meat, so I suggested to Walter that he bring his charcoal starting chimney and take charge if it looked like no one else was primed. When everyone gathered at the pavilion after the game, we found the huge pit, full of charcoal, but no fire, no glowing embers, and no browned burgers. I gave Walter the signal, and he trotted to his car. Within minutes he had retrieved the chimney, stuffed one end with charcoal and the other with newspaper, and lit the paper. Worked like a charm (for the risk averse among you, this is positively the quickest, safest, most efficient way to light charcoal).
Worked like a charm, that is, unless you are a risk-loving pyromaniac with body parts to spare. Soon after Walter had the charcoal started, another dad came striding up, laden with the haul from his latest mission. That's right. He had managed to procure two jumbo-sized bottled of lighter fluid, which he proceeded to sprinkle, squirt, spray, dump, and/or jet directly onto the charcoal, causing flames to leap up like the Alvin Ailey Dance Troupe in its prime and threaten to shorten sideburns, eye brows, and possibly underarm hair. Several moms looked up from a distance, yawned like they saw things burst into flames at home every single day, commented on the testosterone fest, and returned to noshing chips and chatting. I pointed out that only Walter had had enough sense to back away, and before anyone could comment on his lack of testosterone, I announced to the women seated near me that he had plenty in the testosterone department to spare. No wonder all the soccer moms were eying him the rest of the evening.
Yesterday, I figured out the answer to the question that had popped up several times that evening and the following day: what are you going to do with all your spare time, now that soccer has ended?
You may remember my mother and I are the sole members of the Cypress Road Mother/Daughter Book Club. A couple of years ago, we decided that we had missed a number of great books (or maybe just forgotten them), so we started taking turns picking a "classic" for fun and pleasure. We've read (off the top of my head):
Nathaniel Hawthorne's Scarlet Letter
Miguel de Cervante's Don Quixote
Leo Tolstoy's Anna Karenina
Jonathan Swift's Gulliver's Travels
Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice
Virginia Wolfe's Mrs. Dalloway
Joseph Conrad's Heart of Darkness
E.M. Forster's A Passage to India
Henry David Thoreau's Walden
and taken a pass at Ovid's Metamorphoses and The Koran.
I finished Walden a few weeks ago and started filling in my bedtime reading with cheap mysteries. It was clearly time to get back to the Mother/Daughter Reading Club. Saturday night, armed with our internet list of great books and some adult bevs for inspiration, we began the process of choosing a new selection. There really isn't a system. We've heard of most of the books on the list, but don't really know much about any of them. My turn to choose, so I laid out three suggestions: St. Augustine's Confessions, Dante's Divine Comedy, and Proust's Remembrance of Things Past. Proust is a 20th century writer, so we thought we would take it easy on ourselves and choose that one and leave the ancient (or at least extremely old) texts for another day when we felt heartier (I'll bet you former English Lit majors are chortling to yourselves at this point).
I got a chance to stop by Barnes & Noble yesterday while Erin was at piano lessons. I found Proust easily enough. What I hadn't realized was that Remembrance of Things Past was a circular novel, most well-known for its extended length (the first of three volumes exceeds 900 pages and the set weighs in at 7.2 pounds for the paperback edition). I also learned that in the most recent translation the name was changed to more accurately reflect the original. Now it's In Search of Lost Time. What better way to spend my newly found free time than immersed in a search for lost time?
Let me know when it's soccer season again, so I can give up some of this free time.
While the Lady Aggies and Davis may still have matches left in their seasons, Erin's Mystic '97 and my SMC team closed the book on our seasons last weekend. At first I thought I'd have to coach Erin's final game with her sitting beside me on the bench.
The previous Saturday, her team had done a miserable job with air balls (in soccer, as opposed to basketball, air balls are not necessarily a bad thing. It just means the ball's trajectory moves through the air rather than along the ground. It also often means that you have to stop the ball, midflight, with some body part other than your foot.). I can't really imagine why smallish children would duck when sharply struck balls zipped towards them rather than directing them down to their feet with their foreheads or maybe even their soft underbellies, but ducking, followed by chasing was the dominant strategy for that game. Anyway, because of that shortcoming in their collective game, Elvis spent time on air balls and heading in practice last Tuesday. At the end of the drill he encouraged them to practice at home. As encouragement, he told them that anyone who couldn't do two consecutive headers, without catching the ball in between would have to do fitness (translation: run repeated sprints) the whole practice on Thursday.
Well, Erin forgot to practice heading on Wednesday, leading to a tearful bedtime on Wednesday night. I reassured her that she could take a ball to school on Thursday and practice at recess and again after school if she needed to. Unfortunately, even after two practice sessions, Erin couldn't bop the ball up in the air twice without catching it. She was in a funk and didn't want to go to practice.
I tried calming words ("I'm sure it will go better once you're out at the field."). No use.
I tried logic ("It's unreasonable to believe that Elvis could actually expect anyone to run sprints for an hour and a half.)." No use.
I tried a lot of other things.
Finally, I tried guilt. "Erin, you can't just skip practice. People are depending on you. You can't let your team down. You signed up to play soccer. If you don't want to practice, you shouldn't sign up for soccer next season."
To which Erin replied, "That's just it, mom. I signed up for soccer, not for fitness. I want to play soccer, not just run sprints."
To which I replied. . .well I couldn't think of anything to reply (note bene: even though I had no reply, I made Erin go to practice anyway, because I didn't want to bench her for her last game).
Luckily for me, Elvis had a plan. After about fifteen minutes the entire team had successfully headed the ball at least three times in a row, including Erin who mastered that feat no fewer than six times in that fifteen minute period, and no one did fitness.
I'm not sure if that was the key, but the Mystic '97 closed out their season with their only shut out, a 3-0 win that convinced me that they knew something about soccer and maybe even a little bit about handling air balls. Afterwards, we celebrated surviving our inaugural season with a cookout.
One of the dads had offered to cook hamburgers for everyone, and another dad brought a large round pit (think something that might be mistaken for a small UFO on a dark night) to the fields that could handle dozens of burgers at once. I didn't know if anyone had actually taken responsibility for cooking the meat, so I suggested to Walter that he bring his charcoal starting chimney and take charge if it looked like no one else was primed. When everyone gathered at the pavilion after the game, we found the huge pit, full of charcoal, but no fire, no glowing embers, and no browned burgers. I gave Walter the signal, and he trotted to his car. Within minutes he had retrieved the chimney, stuffed one end with charcoal and the other with newspaper, and lit the paper. Worked like a charm (for the risk averse among you, this is positively the quickest, safest, most efficient way to light charcoal).
Worked like a charm, that is, unless you are a risk-loving pyromaniac with body parts to spare. Soon after Walter had the charcoal started, another dad came striding up, laden with the haul from his latest mission. That's right. He had managed to procure two jumbo-sized bottled of lighter fluid, which he proceeded to sprinkle, squirt, spray, dump, and/or jet directly onto the charcoal, causing flames to leap up like the Alvin Ailey Dance Troupe in its prime and threaten to shorten sideburns, eye brows, and possibly underarm hair. Several moms looked up from a distance, yawned like they saw things burst into flames at home every single day, commented on the testosterone fest, and returned to noshing chips and chatting. I pointed out that only Walter had had enough sense to back away, and before anyone could comment on his lack of testosterone, I announced to the women seated near me that he had plenty in the testosterone department to spare. No wonder all the soccer moms were eying him the rest of the evening.
Yesterday, I figured out the answer to the question that had popped up several times that evening and the following day: what are you going to do with all your spare time, now that soccer has ended?
You may remember my mother and I are the sole members of the Cypress Road Mother/Daughter Book Club. A couple of years ago, we decided that we had missed a number of great books (or maybe just forgotten them), so we started taking turns picking a "classic" for fun and pleasure. We've read (off the top of my head):
Nathaniel Hawthorne's Scarlet Letter
Miguel de Cervante's Don Quixote
Leo Tolstoy's Anna Karenina
Jonathan Swift's Gulliver's Travels
Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice
Virginia Wolfe's Mrs. Dalloway
Joseph Conrad's Heart of Darkness
E.M. Forster's A Passage to India
Henry David Thoreau's Walden
and taken a pass at Ovid's Metamorphoses and The Koran.
I finished Walden a few weeks ago and started filling in my bedtime reading with cheap mysteries. It was clearly time to get back to the Mother/Daughter Reading Club. Saturday night, armed with our internet list of great books and some adult bevs for inspiration, we began the process of choosing a new selection. There really isn't a system. We've heard of most of the books on the list, but don't really know much about any of them. My turn to choose, so I laid out three suggestions: St. Augustine's Confessions, Dante's Divine Comedy, and Proust's Remembrance of Things Past. Proust is a 20th century writer, so we thought we would take it easy on ourselves and choose that one and leave the ancient (or at least extremely old) texts for another day when we felt heartier (I'll bet you former English Lit majors are chortling to yourselves at this point).
I got a chance to stop by Barnes & Noble yesterday while Erin was at piano lessons. I found Proust easily enough. What I hadn't realized was that Remembrance of Things Past was a circular novel, most well-known for its extended length (the first of three volumes exceeds 900 pages and the set weighs in at 7.2 pounds for the paperback edition). I also learned that in the most recent translation the name was changed to more accurately reflect the original. Now it's In Search of Lost Time. What better way to spend my newly found free time than immersed in a search for lost time?
Let me know when it's soccer season again, so I can give up some of this free time.
Friday, November 9, 2007
I'm Overwhelmed
November 9, 2007
I just checked Erin's Giving Tree, and Erin Fans have already decorated with 194 ornaments. This amazes and humbles me! Thank you so much. Lunch for Life is such an awesome way to support research. It is run by families of children with neuroblastoma (and you thought I did a lot with my little cache of spare time). Here's where your lunch money goes:
I feel privileged to count you all among Erin's special friends and supporters. If you feel like you can, please give up lunch for Erin. Do it as a way to kick back and celebrate Veteran's Day. Or wait a couple of weeks and make it part of your Thanksgiving ritual. Do it for Advent or the Festival of Lights or Kwanzaa or as your personal Ramadan. Pick a day. Have a big breakfast. Skip lunch. Send the money to Lunch for Life. Think about doing that once a month. Ask your friends, family members, neighbors, and co-workers to join you. If you can't bear the thought of missing a meal, eat and donate anyway.
Thanks.
I just checked Erin's Giving Tree, and Erin Fans have already decorated with 194 ornaments. This amazes and humbles me! Thank you so much. Lunch for Life is such an awesome way to support research. It is run by families of children with neuroblastoma (and you thought I did a lot with my little cache of spare time). Here's where your lunch money goes:
- ALL funds raised through "Lunch for Life®" go directly to support neuroblastoma research and initiatives.
- Funds are dispersed through a grant review process and funding decisions are based on the direction of the CNCF’s Medical Advisory Board. (This board is an independent and organizationally diverse group of neuroblastoma specialists and researchers committed to hastening a cure.)
- Lunch for Life® is entirely about removing this horrible disease from the face of this earth. It is about speeding up the process.
- Lunch for Life® is about saving children's lives.
It is simple. We are an organized group of families with children, grandchildren, friends, and relatives afflicted by cancer. Our only goal is to erradicate this disease. Our children may or may not benefit from this research. A cure may not come in time for many of our little warriors. But we can keep other families from walking in our shoes and we can keep other children from entering into the world of neuroblastoma. It is for these reasons that we are committed to finding the cure. We have no desire to fund expensive marketing campaigns. We are committed to finding a cure. It is about the children.
I feel privileged to count you all among Erin's special friends and supporters. If you feel like you can, please give up lunch for Erin. Do it as a way to kick back and celebrate Veteran's Day. Or wait a couple of weeks and make it part of your Thanksgiving ritual. Do it for Advent or the Festival of Lights or Kwanzaa or as your personal Ramadan. Pick a day. Have a big breakfast. Skip lunch. Send the money to Lunch for Life. Think about doing that once a month. Ask your friends, family members, neighbors, and co-workers to join you. If you can't bear the thought of missing a meal, eat and donate anyway.
Thanks.
Wednesday, November 7, 2007
Thanks Texas, Thanks Ted
November 7, 2007
Texans passed Proposition 15 (58-42%) yesterday thus authorizing up to $3 billion in state general revenue bonds to fund cancer research, prevention, early detection and control programs. Thank you voters! Let the trials begin.
After a nine month wait, Ted Kennedy has scheduled S.911 for consideration in Executive Session of the Health, Education, Labor, & Pensions Committee for one week from today (November 14). Thanks Ted! If you haven't written your follow-up letter to Senator Kay Bailey Hutchinson requesting her support on this legislation, do it now. Tell her the Conquer Childhood Cancer train is about to leave without her.
Texans passed Proposition 15 (58-42%) yesterday thus authorizing up to $3 billion in state general revenue bonds to fund cancer research, prevention, early detection and control programs. Thank you voters! Let the trials begin.
After a nine month wait, Ted Kennedy has scheduled S.911 for consideration in Executive Session of the Health, Education, Labor, & Pensions Committee for one week from today (November 14). Thanks Ted! If you haven't written your follow-up letter to Senator Kay Bailey Hutchinson requesting her support on this legislation, do it now. Tell her the Conquer Childhood Cancer train is about to leave without her.
Monday, November 5, 2007
Erin Needs Your Help
November 5, 2007
We spend a lot of time forgetting that Erin has cancer. We focus on her great grades. We relish watching her make a quick tackle, followed by a splendid turn on the ball to throw the attacker off and start the offense for her team. We revel in the charm of her smile and the radiance that overflows from her eyes. We grin at her wit. I spent a long twenty minutes with her yesterday exploring what college courses she should take to prepare herself to serve as our nation's president, and another long spell staring at a mother spider who had just hatched a host of spider babes.
All these moments help fade the fact that she's ten and been staring cancer in the face more than half her life. . .the fact that relapsed neuroblastoma has no cure (yet).
If you are a Texans and a registered voter, you have the opportunity to help Erin, possibly directly, and certainly indirectly, by voting YES for Proposition 15.
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.
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!
One thing you will notice if you have visited Lunch for Life before, the web page has a new look. More importantly, there are new ways to get involved: in your neighborhood and at work. If you have ever thought about passing it forward, this would be the place to start.
One final word on Erin.
I just received the final blood lab report from Erin's work up last week. Nothing in the CBC was quite as good as last month:
WBC 3,300
ANC 1,700
HGB 11.3
PLT 245,000
but the chemistries were all normal. We also measured quantitative immunoglobulins to see if her body has the ability to mount an immune response if faced with viral or bacterial infection. No real surprise that she measured lower than normal (IGg-511 mg/dL when the reference range is 690-1560 for her age and size). Walter and I are investigating how to get her an infusion (IVIG) that would boost her immune system. In the meantime, don't cough on her, smear your boogers on her, or offer her bons bons that you have already licked. In fact, I think you should get into the habit, when someone sneezes, of saying "Bless you. Sanitize." like the children in Erin's fifth grade class do.
We spend a lot of time forgetting that Erin has cancer. We focus on her great grades. We relish watching her make a quick tackle, followed by a splendid turn on the ball to throw the attacker off and start the offense for her team. We revel in the charm of her smile and the radiance that overflows from her eyes. We grin at her wit. I spent a long twenty minutes with her yesterday exploring what college courses she should take to prepare herself to serve as our nation's president, and another long spell staring at a mother spider who had just hatched a host of spider babes.
All these moments help fade the fact that she's ten and been staring cancer in the face more than half her life. . .the fact that relapsed neuroblastoma has no cure (yet).
If you are a Texans and a registered voter, you have the opportunity to help Erin, possibly directly, and certainly indirectly, by voting YES for Proposition 15.
Proposition 15 is a constitutional amendment to establish the Cancer Prevention and Research Institute of Texas to:
- Conduct research to prevent or cure cancer
- Support existing cancer research efforts in Texas
- Implement the Texas Cancer Plan, a statewide blueprint for cancer prevention and control
If passed, Prop 15 will authorize up to $3 billion in state general revenue bonds to fund cancer research, prevention, early detection and control programs.
In 2003 the director of the National Cancer Institute stated that we could eliminate cancer suffering and death by 2015. Since that time the Bush administration has cut the NCI budget three consecutive years making the goal unlikely to be reached by that time. The funding level now is less than $5 billion for all cancer research. The amount allocated to children's cancer is less than 5% of that. All of cancer research funding is equivalent to what is spent in Iraq in just a few days and the equivalent amount spent on pediatric cancer research is spent in Iraq in minutes.If the nation does not view cancer research as a priority, Texans have the opportunity to step into the breach. Did you know that Texas has more children with cancer than Canada does? Can we get some budgeting priorities right? Please vote and encourage others to do so as well.
Even if you don't live in Texas, you can help. Our regular holiday message is 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 Tree Code is 24730) 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!
One thing you will notice if you have visited Lunch for Life before, the web page has a new look. More importantly, there are new ways to get involved: in your neighborhood and at work. If you have ever thought about passing it forward, this would be the place to start.
One final word on Erin.
I just received the final blood lab report from Erin's work up last week. Nothing in the CBC was quite as good as last month:
WBC 3,300
ANC 1,700
HGB 11.3
PLT 245,000
but the chemistries were all normal. We also measured quantitative immunoglobulins to see if her body has the ability to mount an immune response if faced with viral or bacterial infection. No real surprise that she measured lower than normal (IGg-511 mg/dL when the reference range is 690-1560 for her age and size). Walter and I are investigating how to get her an infusion (IVIG) that would boost her immune system. In the meantime, don't cough on her, smear your boogers on her, or offer her bons bons that you have already licked. In fact, I think you should get into the habit, when someone sneezes, of saying "Bless you. Sanitize." like the children in Erin's fifth grade class do.
Thursday, November 1, 2007
Fluency
November 2, 2007
Education researchers have discovered a new correlate to high performance on the TAKS. For you non-Texans TAKS stands for the Texas Assessment of Knowledge and Skills. Public school students in grades 3 through 11 take subject matter tests to demonstrate proficiency in various subject areas. The TAKS is the model for our country's No Child's Left Behind. And what I have never understood is why we would care about a Child's Left Behind and not their Right Behind. I say, it should be Both Behinds or No Behinds, not one or the other.
Butt, I digress.
I learned about the research applicable to the Reading TAKS when I recently had a conversation with the learning specialist at Erin's school. Apparently, at each grade level, reading aloud at a particular speed is an uncanny predictor of success on the reading TAKS. Therefore, fluency has become a crucial part of reading preparation at Erin's school. Each student receives a grade-level appropriate passage on Monday. They practice at home reading the passage out loud, and on Friday, they read as much of the passage to their teacher as they can in exactly one minute. The plan is to continue doing this each week through February, so that all the students can become fluent readers. The first Friday, when Erin had finished her minute and recorded her result, she had read 263 words per minute. This was three words more than the chart she was supposed to record her results on could accommodate. (If you want to measure yourself against Erin, take a look at the October 29th entry below. Turn on your stopwatch and read for a minute out loud. If you made it to the word "lack" as in "lack of hand washing facilities" you matched Erin's first effort.)
The next week, she practiced a little more (actually a considerable amount more. Every evening, after dinner when Walter and I sat down to catch up on the events of the day, Erin sat in front of the microwave, time set to twenty minutes and read and re-read the passage at top speed.). At the end of the week, she sipped through 304 words in a minute. That would be the equivalent of reading this entry from the beginning through the word "little" in the first sentence of this paragraph in sixty seconds. That may not seem so difficult to you when you are reading silently, but do it out loud. Listen to yourself. If you could really talk that fast you would have a career as an auctioneer (and not many other opportunities).
So, when I was visiting with the learning specialist about another matter, I asked about fluency. I was pretty sure that I had stumbled upon the unintended consequences of a well-meaning change in the curriculum. What the teachers (and researchers) expected was that having children read out loud would improve their silent reading, giving them a better chance to finish reading passages on standardized tests with enough time to answer the questions posed. What they got was a goal-oriented child, who already reads waaaaaay beyond her grade level, who is also a motor mouth. If you have ever heard Beaker, from the Muppets, talk, you can imagine what Erin sounded like reading out loud at the speed of sound.
When Erin got home this afternoon, she told me she was done with fluency. Her teacher told her she didn't have to do it any more. She was happy about it, but promised that she would start doing it again, if anyone in the fifth grade reached 305 WPM. Whose child is she?
This whole episode cracked me up.
On to Halloween. . .
For years, Erin has wanted matching mother/daughter outfits. This is not really my thing. I'm a business school professor. I wear suits and sports coats. It's my uniform. There are NOT a proliferation of suits and sports coats available for little girls. Erin wears young girl stuff: capris, skorts, you know the gig. Finally, this fall, she made me a deal. She told me she wanted to dress up for Halloween as a Congresswoman, would I help her get a costume, preferably a suit? Plus, she said, if I would buy her a suit, she would wear it for her Christmas outfit, her Easter outfit, and as her dress-up clothes on Sundays. I cratered.
I can actually picture her as my representative or Senator in a couple of decades. Can you? The lapel pins she is wearing is the gold ribbon for support of childhood cancer! She had a grand time, first hanging with her buds, Jesse, the Egyptian pharaoh, Ian, the bumblebee, Nico, the Ketchup bottle, Adam the skeleton, and Shelby, the lady bug.
We met up with the Mystic '97 soccer girls and got more trick or treating in. I don't think Erin actually understands that Halloween is to dramatize your greatest fear (thus a lot of dead guys trick or treating) or embody something beautiful or funny. Erin thinks you Halloween is a dress rehearsal for your later life. She looks ready to serve.
One other thing before I sign off for the night (can you tell that Walter is out of town. . .academic trip to a conference in Richmond, Virginia?), thanks to you the Conquer Childhood Cancer Act of 2007 will receive its Senate markup next week, if all goes according to plan. As of tonight there are 44 Senators and 160 representatives already committed to the bill's passage. If it makes it through committee in both houses (this is where it found its untimely death last year), it will go for a full vote, then to the President for a signature. If it makes it that far, I will call on you again, because this bill is only an authorization bill. If it passes, the Appropriations Committees will have to find funds to make it happen, and that won't be easy.
Check back again soon. Lunch for Life is launching again soon, and as always. I'd like you to give up your lunch for Erin.
Education researchers have discovered a new correlate to high performance on the TAKS. For you non-Texans TAKS stands for the Texas Assessment of Knowledge and Skills. Public school students in grades 3 through 11 take subject matter tests to demonstrate proficiency in various subject areas. The TAKS is the model for our country's No Child's Left Behind. And what I have never understood is why we would care about a Child's Left Behind and not their Right Behind. I say, it should be Both Behinds or No Behinds, not one or the other.
Butt, I digress.
I learned about the research applicable to the Reading TAKS when I recently had a conversation with the learning specialist at Erin's school. Apparently, at each grade level, reading aloud at a particular speed is an uncanny predictor of success on the reading TAKS. Therefore, fluency has become a crucial part of reading preparation at Erin's school. Each student receives a grade-level appropriate passage on Monday. They practice at home reading the passage out loud, and on Friday, they read as much of the passage to their teacher as they can in exactly one minute. The plan is to continue doing this each week through February, so that all the students can become fluent readers. The first Friday, when Erin had finished her minute and recorded her result, she had read 263 words per minute. This was three words more than the chart she was supposed to record her results on could accommodate. (If you want to measure yourself against Erin, take a look at the October 29th entry below. Turn on your stopwatch and read for a minute out loud. If you made it to the word "lack" as in "lack of hand washing facilities" you matched Erin's first effort.)
The next week, she practiced a little more (actually a considerable amount more. Every evening, after dinner when Walter and I sat down to catch up on the events of the day, Erin sat in front of the microwave, time set to twenty minutes and read and re-read the passage at top speed.). At the end of the week, she sipped through 304 words in a minute. That would be the equivalent of reading this entry from the beginning through the word "little" in the first sentence of this paragraph in sixty seconds. That may not seem so difficult to you when you are reading silently, but do it out loud. Listen to yourself. If you could really talk that fast you would have a career as an auctioneer (and not many other opportunities).
So, when I was visiting with the learning specialist about another matter, I asked about fluency. I was pretty sure that I had stumbled upon the unintended consequences of a well-meaning change in the curriculum. What the teachers (and researchers) expected was that having children read out loud would improve their silent reading, giving them a better chance to finish reading passages on standardized tests with enough time to answer the questions posed. What they got was a goal-oriented child, who already reads waaaaaay beyond her grade level, who is also a motor mouth. If you have ever heard Beaker, from the Muppets, talk, you can imagine what Erin sounded like reading out loud at the speed of sound.
When Erin got home this afternoon, she told me she was done with fluency. Her teacher told her she didn't have to do it any more. She was happy about it, but promised that she would start doing it again, if anyone in the fifth grade reached 305 WPM. Whose child is she?
This whole episode cracked me up.
On to Halloween. . .
For years, Erin has wanted matching mother/daughter outfits. This is not really my thing. I'm a business school professor. I wear suits and sports coats. It's my uniform. There are NOT a proliferation of suits and sports coats available for little girls. Erin wears young girl stuff: capris, skorts, you know the gig. Finally, this fall, she made me a deal. She told me she wanted to dress up for Halloween as a Congresswoman, would I help her get a costume, preferably a suit? Plus, she said, if I would buy her a suit, she would wear it for her Christmas outfit, her Easter outfit, and as her dress-up clothes on Sundays. I cratered.
I can actually picture her as my representative or Senator in a couple of decades. Can you? The lapel pins she is wearing is the gold ribbon for support of childhood cancer! She had a grand time, first hanging with her buds, Jesse, the Egyptian pharaoh, Ian, the bumblebee, Nico, the Ketchup bottle, Adam the skeleton, and Shelby, the lady bug.
We met up with the Mystic '97 soccer girls and got more trick or treating in. I don't think Erin actually understands that Halloween is to dramatize your greatest fear (thus a lot of dead guys trick or treating) or embody something beautiful or funny. Erin thinks you Halloween is a dress rehearsal for your later life. She looks ready to serve.
One other thing before I sign off for the night (can you tell that Walter is out of town. . .academic trip to a conference in Richmond, Virginia?), thanks to you the Conquer Childhood Cancer Act of 2007 will receive its Senate markup next week, if all goes according to plan. As of tonight there are 44 Senators and 160 representatives already committed to the bill's passage. If it makes it through committee in both houses (this is where it found its untimely death last year), it will go for a full vote, then to the President for a signature. If it makes it that far, I will call on you again, because this bill is only an authorization bill. If it passes, the Appropriations Committees will have to find funds to make it happen, and that won't be easy.
Check back again soon. Lunch for Life is launching again soon, and as always. I'd like you to give up your lunch for Erin.
Monday, October 29, 2007
Crab Soccer--UGH!
October 29, 2007
When I was in junior high, I loved crab soccer. Crab soccer requires an over-sized, over-inflated ball, the hands and feet of all team members on the floor, and their bellies pointed to the ceiling. If you could kick like a Rockette, scramble backwards, forwards, and sideways, or at least if you had enough sense of humor to realize how ridiculous everyone looked, you could really appreciate the game. Now, I hate crab soccer.
No I wasn't recently picked last for the local team.
No, crab soccer hasn't shown up filling air time on ESPN2, scheduled right after adult dodgeball.
No, I don't think crab soccer takes Americans away from "real" soccer.
I hate crab soccer because as soon as the weather changes, and it becomes too chilly to hold P.E. outside, the P.E. coaches at Erin's school bring all the children in to the multi-purpose room and start crab soccer tournaments.
Why, you may ask, is that a problem?
Imagine what happens when forty 10 and 11 years olds wipe their noses (and what ever else you want to imagine) on their palms then place their palms on the P.E. room floor for a rousing game of crab soccer. That's one class of crab soccer players. Now, triple that number to 120 because each class plays three times a week. Now, multiply 120 times fifteen (the number of unique P.E. classes in the school) and spread the yuk that gets wiped to include the detritus on the hands of 5, 6, 7, 8, and 9 year olds, too. Add in the lack of hand washing facilities in the P.E. room, and you can see two things clearly: why Erin has been sick twice in the last eight days and why I hate crab soccer.
It is also why I had a rant with (on?) the P.E. coach first thing this morning. Which P.E. coach you may ask? The one whom I met with before school started and in the second week of school about this very issue. The one whom Walter visited with at Open House in late-September about this very issue. The one for whom I bought an industrial-sized bottle of hand sanitizer to use to combat this very problem, with instructions just to mention when he needed more. The one who thanked me graciously and told me he and his assistant coaches really appreciated using the hand sanitizer to keep from getting sick. The one that kept the hand sanitizer hidden from the children.
As a result, last week after rousing games of crab soccer, Erin had a mild brush with a junky virus that left her tired and achy, but not too sick. This weekend, she met squarely with the disease that doesn't let you stray too far from the bathroom. Luckily, it didn't hit until we stopped for lunch on the drive home from the soccer game Saturday, but the last thing you really want to hear when you still have an hour and a half drive time remaining is for your child to announce that she has green diarrhea.
Besides maintaining an umbilical cord distance from the bathroom for the remainder of the weekend, Erin hasn't fared too badly. We did put all activities scheduled for the weekend on hold, so we wouldn't pass on this precious gift. That gave us ample time to catch up on our to-do list around the house and to put the finishing touches on our spooky jack-of-lanterns. This first one is obviously some kind of apparition from the spiritual world.
The second, if you can't easily tell, is the spittin' image of Willie, down to the cocked ear and insanely agile tongue.
The final shot features Erin with her two new friends and creations. This must be what Dr. Frankenstein felt like:
When I was in junior high, I loved crab soccer. Crab soccer requires an over-sized, over-inflated ball, the hands and feet of all team members on the floor, and their bellies pointed to the ceiling. If you could kick like a Rockette, scramble backwards, forwards, and sideways, or at least if you had enough sense of humor to realize how ridiculous everyone looked, you could really appreciate the game. Now, I hate crab soccer.
No I wasn't recently picked last for the local team.
No, crab soccer hasn't shown up filling air time on ESPN2, scheduled right after adult dodgeball.
No, I don't think crab soccer takes Americans away from "real" soccer.
I hate crab soccer because as soon as the weather changes, and it becomes too chilly to hold P.E. outside, the P.E. coaches at Erin's school bring all the children in to the multi-purpose room and start crab soccer tournaments.
Why, you may ask, is that a problem?
Imagine what happens when forty 10 and 11 years olds wipe their noses (and what ever else you want to imagine) on their palms then place their palms on the P.E. room floor for a rousing game of crab soccer. That's one class of crab soccer players. Now, triple that number to 120 because each class plays three times a week. Now, multiply 120 times fifteen (the number of unique P.E. classes in the school) and spread the yuk that gets wiped to include the detritus on the hands of 5, 6, 7, 8, and 9 year olds, too. Add in the lack of hand washing facilities in the P.E. room, and you can see two things clearly: why Erin has been sick twice in the last eight days and why I hate crab soccer.
It is also why I had a rant with (on?) the P.E. coach first thing this morning. Which P.E. coach you may ask? The one whom I met with before school started and in the second week of school about this very issue. The one whom Walter visited with at Open House in late-September about this very issue. The one for whom I bought an industrial-sized bottle of hand sanitizer to use to combat this very problem, with instructions just to mention when he needed more. The one who thanked me graciously and told me he and his assistant coaches really appreciated using the hand sanitizer to keep from getting sick. The one that kept the hand sanitizer hidden from the children.
As a result, last week after rousing games of crab soccer, Erin had a mild brush with a junky virus that left her tired and achy, but not too sick. This weekend, she met squarely with the disease that doesn't let you stray too far from the bathroom. Luckily, it didn't hit until we stopped for lunch on the drive home from the soccer game Saturday, but the last thing you really want to hear when you still have an hour and a half drive time remaining is for your child to announce that she has green diarrhea.
Besides maintaining an umbilical cord distance from the bathroom for the remainder of the weekend, Erin hasn't fared too badly. We did put all activities scheduled for the weekend on hold, so we wouldn't pass on this precious gift. That gave us ample time to catch up on our to-do list around the house and to put the finishing touches on our spooky jack-of-lanterns. This first one is obviously some kind of apparition from the spiritual world.
The second, if you can't easily tell, is the spittin' image of Willie, down to the cocked ear and insanely agile tongue.
The final shot features Erin with her two new friends and creations. This must be what Dr. Frankenstein felt like:
Monday, October 22, 2007
Plumbing the Depths of a Ten-Year-Old
October 22, 2007
Erin stayed home from school today. . .almost sick. She had vague symptoms: a little fatigue, slight body and joint aches, almost a headache. Last year's dance marathon with Mr. Virus and Mr. Infection led me to err on the side of caution. Furthermore, since Walter actually was sick on Friday and Saturday, I figured that the full blossom of symptoms would appear as soon as I left for work. By the time I returned from work in the middle of the afternoon, I discovered I was wrong. True, Erin was no better, but certainly she was no worse either.
She was, however, ready for some mom time. Which brings us to Halloween decorations. I can't really explain why we didn't get the decorations up over the (gorgeous) weekend. But here we were, less than two week, heck, less than ten days until the big holiday, and not a window or wall of our house had anything orange or black stuck to it. So I dragged them out of the attic and found the scotch tape. You see, our Halloween decorations are not the kind that come from the discount store, require electricity, and take up the front yard. When Davis was about two and a half, we started making construction paper monsters and other Halloween-y things and sticking them on the walls and windows. When they started looking a little raggedy from being taped up and pulled down year after year, I took the lot of them to the teacher's office supply store and had them all laminated. Each year, when Erin or Davis made a new creature at school, I added it to the collection. Now we look eerie, floor to ceiling, wall to wall. Here's a view of Erin's window (note bene: every window in the house looks like this, but with a different theme. The theme here is obviously home decorating tips by Peter, Pumpkin Eater.):
Erin also brought home the project she created for social studies last six weeks, where she had to create a continent. Might I introduce the eighth continent: Erionalista (no little ego here).
As long as I am exploring the talents and creations of Erin Buenger, you might as well hear how her thoughts unfolded this week.
Conversation 1 (between Erin and mom):
Erin: "Mom, how old was Davis when he got his own e-mail address?"
You can see where this is going can't you? Erin doesn't have her own e-mail address, and apparently is the only ten-year-old in America who us so dispossessed and cruelly punished.
Mom: "I think he got one when he got to Rice last fall."
Erin (not the answer she wanted to hear): "Oh, that's right back when Davis was a kid, kid's e-mail wasn't invented yet."
Conversation 2 (between Erin and Nico):
(Overheard from the backseat of the car on the way home from children's bells and choir last week. The two of them were discussing another choir member who always acts dramatically when she misses a note.)
Erin: "I don't know why she has to fall down and moan when she misses a note."
Nico: "Yeah, I know what you mean. I don't know why either."
Erin: "Look at me. I've hit so many wrong notes this year, that if you stacked them all up they would reach to Houston."
Conversation 3 (at the breakfast table):
Erin: "Do you remember in the Winnie-the-Pooh story when he eats too much at Rabbit's house and then gets stuck in the door as he's leaving?"
Mom: "Yes, what about it?"
Erin: "So, didn't he get stuck leaving, with his head and arms on the outside and his feet on the inside?"
Mom: "That's the way I remember it."
Erin: "And he had to stay there a long time until he thinned out?"
Mom: "Yes."
Erin: "Well if he was stuck there all that time, where did he go to the bathroom?"
Mom: "I don't think stuffed animals actually go to the bathroom."
Erin: "Then why do they call him Pooh?"
Remember, I'm not skilled enough to make this stuff up.
Erin stayed home from school today. . .almost sick. She had vague symptoms: a little fatigue, slight body and joint aches, almost a headache. Last year's dance marathon with Mr. Virus and Mr. Infection led me to err on the side of caution. Furthermore, since Walter actually was sick on Friday and Saturday, I figured that the full blossom of symptoms would appear as soon as I left for work. By the time I returned from work in the middle of the afternoon, I discovered I was wrong. True, Erin was no better, but certainly she was no worse either.
She was, however, ready for some mom time. Which brings us to Halloween decorations. I can't really explain why we didn't get the decorations up over the (gorgeous) weekend. But here we were, less than two week, heck, less than ten days until the big holiday, and not a window or wall of our house had anything orange or black stuck to it. So I dragged them out of the attic and found the scotch tape. You see, our Halloween decorations are not the kind that come from the discount store, require electricity, and take up the front yard. When Davis was about two and a half, we started making construction paper monsters and other Halloween-y things and sticking them on the walls and windows. When they started looking a little raggedy from being taped up and pulled down year after year, I took the lot of them to the teacher's office supply store and had them all laminated. Each year, when Erin or Davis made a new creature at school, I added it to the collection. Now we look eerie, floor to ceiling, wall to wall. Here's a view of Erin's window (note bene: every window in the house looks like this, but with a different theme. The theme here is obviously home decorating tips by Peter, Pumpkin Eater.):
Erin also brought home the project she created for social studies last six weeks, where she had to create a continent. Might I introduce the eighth continent: Erionalista (no little ego here).
As long as I am exploring the talents and creations of Erin Buenger, you might as well hear how her thoughts unfolded this week.Conversation 1 (between Erin and mom):
Erin: "Mom, how old was Davis when he got his own e-mail address?"
You can see where this is going can't you? Erin doesn't have her own e-mail address, and apparently is the only ten-year-old in America who us so dispossessed and cruelly punished.
Mom: "I think he got one when he got to Rice last fall."
Erin (not the answer she wanted to hear): "Oh, that's right back when Davis was a kid, kid's e-mail wasn't invented yet."
Conversation 2 (between Erin and Nico):
(Overheard from the backseat of the car on the way home from children's bells and choir last week. The two of them were discussing another choir member who always acts dramatically when she misses a note.)
Erin: "I don't know why she has to fall down and moan when she misses a note."
Nico: "Yeah, I know what you mean. I don't know why either."
Erin: "Look at me. I've hit so many wrong notes this year, that if you stacked them all up they would reach to Houston."
Conversation 3 (at the breakfast table):
Erin: "Do you remember in the Winnie-the-Pooh story when he eats too much at Rabbit's house and then gets stuck in the door as he's leaving?"
Mom: "Yes, what about it?"
Erin: "So, didn't he get stuck leaving, with his head and arms on the outside and his feet on the inside?"
Mom: "That's the way I remember it."
Erin: "And he had to stay there a long time until he thinned out?"
Mom: "Yes."
Erin: "Well if he was stuck there all that time, where did he go to the bathroom?"
Mom: "I don't think stuffed animals actually go to the bathroom."
Erin: "Then why do they call him Pooh?"
Remember, I'm not skilled enough to make this stuff up.
Tuesday, October 16, 2007
Why Don't I Trust My Own Eyes?
October 16, 2007
I have watched Erin since July, when she had an elevated TSH (thyroid-stimulating hormone) level in one of her blood labs. TSH isn't something we test very often, so we really didn't have much to compare it to. A consistently high TSH would indicate hypothyroidism (something that would need daily medication, so Erin could grow properly and have enough energy to do the things she wanted to do).
At the time I gave her doctor a "What?-Are-You-Crazy" look, because she knows as well as we all do, that Erin hits the ground running every single day and never shows signs of hypothyroidism (fatigue, sleepiness, weight gain, decreased concentration, etc.). That's when I learned of the condition called subclinical hypothyroidism. Subclinical means you show no clinical signs of disease. It happens when the thyroid may be damaged (How would a thyroid get damaged? Oh, use your imagination. . .perhaps by radiation to the throat, which happens when you have radiation to your total body), but it compensates for the damage by working overtime, putting even more stress on the endocrine system. People with subclinical hypothyroidism can solve most of their problems by taking medicine, but once they start, they usually have to take it for the rest of their lives.
I so didn't want Erin to have to add another set of daily meds to her kit. Frankly, I was prepared to keep her off the meds, unless the doctor made a very compelling case that she needed them. I mean, what's the point of having a beautiful, not over-stressed thyroid if you think you won't have ample opportunity to use it later in life? Her oncologist wasn't terribly worried last summer, but she did suggest scheduling an appointment with an endocrinologist when we came in for scans, just to have a specialist's view point.
So since July, I have watched Erin to see if I could see signs of a struggling thyroid, and since October 2 (after the endocrinology appointment), I've been waiting for the test results that would confirm a thyroid problem.
They came today:
I have watched Erin since July, when she had an elevated TSH (thyroid-stimulating hormone) level in one of her blood labs. TSH isn't something we test very often, so we really didn't have much to compare it to. A consistently high TSH would indicate hypothyroidism (something that would need daily medication, so Erin could grow properly and have enough energy to do the things she wanted to do).
At the time I gave her doctor a "What?-Are-You-Crazy" look, because she knows as well as we all do, that Erin hits the ground running every single day and never shows signs of hypothyroidism (fatigue, sleepiness, weight gain, decreased concentration, etc.). That's when I learned of the condition called subclinical hypothyroidism. Subclinical means you show no clinical signs of disease. It happens when the thyroid may be damaged (How would a thyroid get damaged? Oh, use your imagination. . .perhaps by radiation to the throat, which happens when you have radiation to your total body), but it compensates for the damage by working overtime, putting even more stress on the endocrine system. People with subclinical hypothyroidism can solve most of their problems by taking medicine, but once they start, they usually have to take it for the rest of their lives.
I so didn't want Erin to have to add another set of daily meds to her kit. Frankly, I was prepared to keep her off the meds, unless the doctor made a very compelling case that she needed them. I mean, what's the point of having a beautiful, not over-stressed thyroid if you think you won't have ample opportunity to use it later in life? Her oncologist wasn't terribly worried last summer, but she did suggest scheduling an appointment with an endocrinologist when we came in for scans, just to have a specialist's view point.
So since July, I have watched Erin to see if I could see signs of a struggling thyroid, and since October 2 (after the endocrinology appointment), I've been waiting for the test results that would confirm a thyroid problem.
They came today:
T4,Free(Direct) 1.12 ng/dL 0.82 - 1.58
TSH 4.415 uIU/mL 0.360 - 5.800
THYROXINE (T4) 6.9 ug/dL 4.5 - 12.0
ANTITHYROGLOBULIN Ab <20>
What a relief! I thought of the punch line to the old joke: "Are you going to believe me, or them lying eyes of yours?
I think I'll stick to my lying eyes.
Friday, October 12, 2007
Big Week
October 12, 2007
QUICK UPDATE (TWO ITEMS):
The fifth grade trip to Camp Allen exceeded expectations all around: no mosquitoes, mild weather (well, honestly, it was hot with a breeze, but not oppressive), excellent food (at camp? you may ask, but I understand Camp Allen has a well-deserved reputation for serving tasty meals), a crackling camp evening fire with humor geared to 10 year olds, and a copious amounts of free time. When was the last time a school field trip you attended could claim all of those things?
Erin also made a successful bid for student council at her school. Her speech was too funny--long on earnestness and honesty, short on zip, and definitely lacking in sound bites. I don't know exactly what she ended up saying, but it went something like this:
"I wish I could promise that if you elect me to the student council I will get us recess all day, field trips to Disney World, and better food in the cafeteria, but the student council can't do those things. If you elect me, I will listen to you, like Chet Edwards listened to me went I went to Washington, D.C. and work to make our school a better place."
Despite not overpromising anything, she won in a run-off and was exceedingly pleased. Erin also brought home another stellar report card with week, stayed on top of her homework, scored twice during soccer practice last night, and is improving on her Number Sense practice. In addition, she rode horses, sang, rang bells, and played the piano. Mainly, she has just smiled her way through the week. If she can, you should, too.
Now, get back to work, literally ( I have students to teach in about an hour and you have some task or chore at your home or job that you need to attend to), but also in the bidness of cancer advocacy. For motivation, here is a picture of our trip to DC in June when Senator John Cornyn (in the suit at the left) got on board the Conquer Childhood Cancer Act. I sure would like to add a matching one with KBH!
This is a group of Texans who lobbied with us in Washington. Erin didn't want to wear the t-shirt everyone else was wearing because she thought "an outfit would make a better impression." The young man on the far right (with the knee brace) has Ewing's sarcoma. The rest of the group were mainly parents, siblings, and friends of children who had died from cancer and a couple of doctors and nurses who work with pediatric cancer patients. This is what the t-shirts say,
I sentiment we all can agree with.
QUICK UPDATE (TWO ITEMS):
- Congressman Chet Edwards with his whole family on speaker phone just called and spent fifteen minutes congratulating Erin on her student council election results. What a guy!
- Visit this website www.dontalmostgive.org and view the public service announcements linked there. The message really hit home for me. I know what the road to H-E-double toothpicks is paved with. I read or hear something and INTEND to follow up, do a good deed, write a letter, make a donation. Then the immediacy of my life takes over and I almost follow up, almost do a good deed, almost write a letter, almost make a donation. If this happens to you, too, let me give you a nudge. Here is a link to Han's webpage, where Han's mother has written an bang-up letter to our Senator. Take a look. Then, don't almost write--write.
The fifth grade trip to Camp Allen exceeded expectations all around: no mosquitoes, mild weather (well, honestly, it was hot with a breeze, but not oppressive), excellent food (at camp? you may ask, but I understand Camp Allen has a well-deserved reputation for serving tasty meals), a crackling camp evening fire with humor geared to 10 year olds, and a copious amounts of free time. When was the last time a school field trip you attended could claim all of those things?
Erin also made a successful bid for student council at her school. Her speech was too funny--long on earnestness and honesty, short on zip, and definitely lacking in sound bites. I don't know exactly what she ended up saying, but it went something like this:
"I wish I could promise that if you elect me to the student council I will get us recess all day, field trips to Disney World, and better food in the cafeteria, but the student council can't do those things. If you elect me, I will listen to you, like Chet Edwards listened to me went I went to Washington, D.C. and work to make our school a better place."
Despite not overpromising anything, she won in a run-off and was exceedingly pleased. Erin also brought home another stellar report card with week, stayed on top of her homework, scored twice during soccer practice last night, and is improving on her Number Sense practice. In addition, she rode horses, sang, rang bells, and played the piano. Mainly, she has just smiled her way through the week. If she can, you should, too.
Now, get back to work, literally ( I have students to teach in about an hour and you have some task or chore at your home or job that you need to attend to), but also in the bidness of cancer advocacy. For motivation, here is a picture of our trip to DC in June when Senator John Cornyn (in the suit at the left) got on board the Conquer Childhood Cancer Act. I sure would like to add a matching one with KBH!
This is a group of Texans who lobbied with us in Washington. Erin didn't want to wear the t-shirt everyone else was wearing because she thought "an outfit would make a better impression." The young man on the far right (with the knee brace) has Ewing's sarcoma. The rest of the group were mainly parents, siblings, and friends of children who had died from cancer and a couple of doctors and nurses who work with pediatric cancer patients. This is what the t-shirts say,
I sentiment we all can agree with.
Monday, October 8, 2007
Calling All Texas Exes, Former Cheerleaders, Junior Leaguers, and Citizens of the Lone Star State
October 8, 2007
ADD ON THOUGHTS ABOUT KBH: When I have written Senator Hutchison the "canned" response I have received back indicates that she supports cancer research (but the support for legislation she lists only includes adult cancers) and that she would consider the Conquer Childhood Cancer Act if it ever comes up for a vote.
That's not good enough. Childhood cancer is not adult cancer. It has different characteristics, causes, and treatments. It needs its own funding and research. Even if everything that worked for adults also worked for children, children with cancer do not have fifteen or twenty years to wait for the promising drugs to go through three sets of adult trials, receive approval for adults, then go back into three more sets of pediatric trials, before they are finally approved for children.
Do not be put off by Senator Hutchison's nice, but ultimately hollow, words. We need a Senator willing to step up and fight for our children now.
Advocacy Update:
Folks of an age will remember Schoolhouse Rock and I'm Just a Bill. (Take a trip down memory lane by clicking on this link or this one that takes you to You Tube so you can watch the original music video:)
I'm just a bill.
Yes, I'm only a bill.
And I'm sitting here on Capitol Hill.
Well, it's a long, long journey
To the capital city.
It's a long, long wait
While I'm sitting in committee,
But I know I'll be a law some day
At least I hope and pray that I will
But today I am still just a bill.
That ditty, which tells of the long, drawn out process of how a bill becomes a law attempts to capture the circuitous, sometimes torturous route, but doesn't do the process half the justice it deserves. Case in point: since the Buengers went to Washington to lobby for the Conquer Childhood Cancer Act of 2007 back in June, it looks like not much has happened. The bill is still sitting in the same committees and subcommittees where they landed in March. . .BUT. . .
A lot has happened. Since then, as a result of massive and widespread lobbying by people like you and me, 150 Representatives and 41 Senators have signed on as co-sponsors (you may notice that 41 is awfully close to the 51-person majority the bill would need to successfully pass a floor vote).
What I understand will happen next (and I strongly believe that this will happen this month), is that Senator Ted Kennedy who chairs the committee where the bill (S.911) is sitting will ask for a Mark Up. The committee will then report the bill to the floor, and when it moves up in the schedule, the full Senate will vote on it. I also believe that once the Senate takes up the bill, the House Commerce and Energy Committee (H.R. 1553) will do so as well, following a very similar process.
If you have even a passing connection to one of the Title Categories above (Texas Ex, cheerleader, Junior Leaguer, Citizen of the Lone Start State), I need your help today. My heart is breaking because the senior Senator from the state of Texas, Senator Kay Bailey Hutchison has not signed on to the bill and will not say why, nor will she make suggestions that would make the bill more palatable to her. Given her special status in those Title Categories I thought that perhaps her peers (this is you!) might make an attempt to convince her that the time has come for her to get on board! Write her. Call her. Fax her.
DC phone: 202-224-5922
DC fax: 202-224-0776
Link to E-mail: http://hutchison.senate.gov/contact.html
ADD ON THOUGHTS ABOUT KBH: When I have written Senator Hutchison the "canned" response I have received back indicates that she supports cancer research (but the support for legislation she lists only includes adult cancers) and that she would consider the Conquer Childhood Cancer Act if it ever comes up for a vote.
That's not good enough. Childhood cancer is not adult cancer. It has different characteristics, causes, and treatments. It needs its own funding and research. Even if everything that worked for adults also worked for children, children with cancer do not have fifteen or twenty years to wait for the promising drugs to go through three sets of adult trials, receive approval for adults, then go back into three more sets of pediatric trials, before they are finally approved for children.
Do not be put off by Senator Hutchison's nice, but ultimately hollow, words. We need a Senator willing to step up and fight for our children now.
Advocacy Update:
Folks of an age will remember Schoolhouse Rock and I'm Just a Bill. (Take a trip down memory lane by clicking on this link or this one that takes you to You Tube so you can watch the original music video:)
I'm just a bill.
Yes, I'm only a bill.
And I'm sitting here on Capitol Hill.
Well, it's a long, long journey
To the capital city.
It's a long, long wait
While I'm sitting in committee,
But I know I'll be a law some day
At least I hope and pray that I will
But today I am still just a bill.
That ditty, which tells of the long, drawn out process of how a bill becomes a law attempts to capture the circuitous, sometimes torturous route, but doesn't do the process half the justice it deserves. Case in point: since the Buengers went to Washington to lobby for the Conquer Childhood Cancer Act of 2007 back in June, it looks like not much has happened. The bill is still sitting in the same committees and subcommittees where they landed in March. . .BUT. . .
A lot has happened. Since then, as a result of massive and widespread lobbying by people like you and me, 150 Representatives and 41 Senators have signed on as co-sponsors (you may notice that 41 is awfully close to the 51-person majority the bill would need to successfully pass a floor vote).
What I understand will happen next (and I strongly believe that this will happen this month), is that Senator Ted Kennedy who chairs the committee where the bill (S.911) is sitting will ask for a Mark Up. The committee will then report the bill to the floor, and when it moves up in the schedule, the full Senate will vote on it. I also believe that once the Senate takes up the bill, the House Commerce and Energy Committee (H.R. 1553) will do so as well, following a very similar process.
If you have even a passing connection to one of the Title Categories above (Texas Ex, cheerleader, Junior Leaguer, Citizen of the Lone Start State), I need your help today. My heart is breaking because the senior Senator from the state of Texas, Senator Kay Bailey Hutchison has not signed on to the bill and will not say why, nor will she make suggestions that would make the bill more palatable to her. Given her special status in those Title Categories I thought that perhaps her peers (this is you!) might make an attempt to convince her that the time has come for her to get on board! Write her. Call her. Fax her.
| Senator Kay Bailey Hutchison (R- TX) |
DC fax: 202-224-0776
Link to E-mail: http://hutchison.senate.gov/contact.html
It has been hard for childhood cancer to get the notice it deserves. Yet the years of life lost from childhood cancers are way up there, exceeded only by the two most common adult cancers.
Neuroblastoma, like many pediatric cancers, arises sporadically. It can't be predicted or prevented. As one parent summed it up: It's simply unexplainable." The cruel hand of fate regularly reaches down and taps families on the shoulder from all walks of life: It has visited the families of bankers and builders, farmers and financial traders, doctors and deliverymen, teachers and lawyers, and so many others. There is so much left to learn and so many lives to save. Unfortunately, pharmaceutical companies don't see much chance for profit with children, and most private fund raising for cancer (think American Cancer Society, Lance Armstrong Foundation, or even the Susan Komen Breast Cancer Foundation) overlook children almost entirely.
If you want more fodder for a letter, you can write me and I'll tell you more, or you can check the September 10th entry below for some handy facts, or visit the CureSearch website. The important thing is DON"T WAIT. Let's give her a chance to sign up as a co-sponsor before the committee takes it up.
Besides the advocacy bit, the Buengers are taking life at their usual pace. Erin hit Bryan High Homecoming on Friday night with "the other" Aaron, and apparently had a blast staying up past her parent's bedtime.
Saturday brought another tight loss (1-0) on the pitch, but we are all confident that if we continue to do things right, the victories will start adding up. Saturday night the soccer team descended upon the innocent home of one of her teammates (Sydney Jeter) for a slumberless birthday party. Erin was groggy and complaining when I picked her up early for Sunday school, but we had to get their since the children's choir was singing the anthem for World Communion Sunday. Tomorrow is the fifth grade classes' all day field trip to Camp Allen (I have gotten sucked into serving as a half-day chaperone. . .I'll tell you about the mosquitofest later).
In between these activities, Erin has busily created a large pile of campaign posters and paraphernalia for her big run for Student Council. Since almost everyone in her class is running (each class selects one representative), she figures if she can get three or four votes she'll have a plurality. She has also been working on castle building!
Wednesday, October 3, 2007
Olympic Gold
October 3, 2007
If the Olympic Committee offered an event that required stamina and endurance, patience, cheerfulness, scrupulous attention to detail, and the ability to walk miles carrying bags laden with puzzles, stuffed animals, homework packets, medical records, gatorade bottles, and general detritus, I would have medaled yesterday. And Olympic bling hanging around my neck wouldn't have felt better than the phone call from Erin's doctor (as I sat, unmoving, in the HOV lane on the way out of town), telling me that Erin was still stable (clear bone scan, stable CT scan) and that we could continue with the low-dose treatment plan that has given Erin such great quality of life.
For those of you who want the medical details:
Erin's blood numbers
ANC 2300
HGB 12.9
PLT 277,000, all normal.
Chemistries (including BUN and creatinine) all normal.
Liver panel all normal, save the AST, which was 2 points higher than normal, but which has been about double normal but trending downward for the past several draws. This means that cyclophosphamide isn't irritating her system and causing as much inflammation as etoposide did.
For those of you who want the play-by-play:
What Else Went Well:
If the Olympic Committee offered an event that required stamina and endurance, patience, cheerfulness, scrupulous attention to detail, and the ability to walk miles carrying bags laden with puzzles, stuffed animals, homework packets, medical records, gatorade bottles, and general detritus, I would have medaled yesterday. And Olympic bling hanging around my neck wouldn't have felt better than the phone call from Erin's doctor (as I sat, unmoving, in the HOV lane on the way out of town), telling me that Erin was still stable (clear bone scan, stable CT scan) and that we could continue with the low-dose treatment plan that has given Erin such great quality of life.
For those of you who want the medical details:
Erin's blood numbers
ANC 2300
HGB 12.9
PLT 277,000, all normal.
Chemistries (including BUN and creatinine) all normal.
Liver panel all normal, save the AST, which was 2 points higher than normal, but which has been about double normal but trending downward for the past several draws. This means that cyclophosphamide isn't irritating her system and causing as much inflammation as etoposide did.
For those of you who want the play-by-play:
What Else Went Well:
- I had cunningly called last Friday and put my insurance co-pay and deductible on my credit card, so I wouldn't have delays checking in.
- Erin sucked her oral contrast down for her CT scan quickly and efficiently. We made up time and the CT scan happened as scheduled.
- Dr. Heidi Russell worked us in between our bone scan prep and our bone scan (about three hours earlier than our scheduled appointment) and already had the official CT report showing stable results.
- Sam and Erin entertained each other all day, churning between television, cards, computers, books, hand-held games, and chit chat.
- The gift shop, once again, proved well-stocked. I am waiting for the day that Erin goes in and can't find a single thing that she doesn't already have.
- Even though I had cunningly called ahead of time twice so that we could make the tight schedule between IV placement and CT prep, the IV placer was late, putting us half an hour behind schedule from the get go.
- The CT techs can't figure out why the IV contrast burns Erin so badly that she cries every time it is injected. It's so hard to ask her to lie still on the table, when she and I both know that she's about to be tortured.
- A new (and vigilant) nuclear medicine tech (and presumably a new radiologist) insisted on taking several extra series of bone scan shots of Erin's shins, knees, hands, forearms, and elbows, asking me things like "Has Erin ever broken bones?" (no), "Does she have scoliosis?" (no), "Has Erin sustained a trauma or blow lately?" (no). Erin has never had bone disease, so I never really worry about the bone scan. When he re-did her legs, I thought, "Oh, that's just some deep bruise from soccer." When he re-did her hands (twice), I thought, "Can't he see that she has an IV stuck in the back of her hand that would show the tracer brightly?" When he asked me about her back, I told him about her divot left over from surgery three years ago. I believed everything I said, but I thought having anomalies in the scans show up in all those places at once seemed unlikely. This caused me to obsess about potentially bad results for the next three hours.
- The endocrinologist couldn't tell us anything we didn't already know. She ordered more labs which I had anticipated. I had cunningly called ahead to ask about that possibility and had kept Erin's IV in place all day so that she wouldn't have to face another needle poke. Unfortunately, the lab refused to use the IV, scuttling my plan, and making Erin extremely angry.
- The extra labs, the extra flu shot opportunity, and the extra bone scans shots put us behind schedule getting out of town, but Erin and Sam still thought we could make it for most of soccer practice if I drove efficiently. Unfortunately, something stalled traffic on the 290 HOV lane leaving town, and it took 42 minutes to travel about four miles. After that, traffic eased, and we floated on down the highway--ultimately too late for soccer, but just in time for dinner and a beer night cap (for me, not Erin).
Sunday, September 30, 2007
Merry Christmas!
September 30, 2007
To understand this update you have to have some background. Walter and I have taught an adult Sunday School class for over a decade. We mix Bible study with books on theology and a heavy dose of historical context. We are called the Loose Leaf Bible Study, because during one set of lessons many years ago we learned that early Christians kept their sacred writings (before the Bible was canonized and made "official") in something called a codex rather than in scrolls like the Jewish scriptures. Keeping sacred writings in a codex was sort of like keeping them in a binder. It allowed various house churches and communities of believers to add to or take away from their collection of writings more easily than cutting out the middle of a scroll, then taping it back together (quite difficult in the pre-3M era, when scotch tape was not yet invented). Anyway, rather than continuing as the Sunday school class that didn't have a cool name, we adopted the Loose-Leaf moniker because it described our rather flexible (some might say skeptical) approach to Bible study.
If you have a name like "Loose Leaf," you have to be prepared to take some good natured ribbing from time to time. Consider all the nouns that "loose" modifies. . .lips, change, women, and most frequently screw.
Anyway, a number of years ago, we all got so busy we didn't manage to get our annual Sunday school Christmas party scheduled before Christmas, so we all decided to wait until after Christmas when we had more time. More time didn't materialize until June. We decorated a tree, dressed in our seasonal garb, exchanged gifts, and really had a good time. We decided that summer was absolutely the best time for a Christmas party for a whole bunch of reasons (if you think about it, you can probably create a long list yourself). Since then, we have our turkey dinner and our conviviality on the upbeat, rather than in time with the rest of the world, and it works out great.
This year, we almost slipped up. Summer came and went, and somehow we had not managed to get together for Christmas. Dorothy and Paul Van Riper saved us by opening their home this evening for the extravaganza. We managed to slip last year's Christmas party in barely before the big pre-Christmas sales started locally. If we hadn't we would have had to have two parties next summer, and that would have been difficult to schedule.
Erin was the official party photographer. Here are a few of her shots:
So we shared the joy of the season and exchanged gifts (I am now the proud owner of paper copies of the past five years of The Chimes, our church newsletter). Since it no longer comes weekly, I think I have a bona fide collector's item (See me if you want to buy them. Soon. Before I recycle them). Walter scored an elegant ceramic sleigh, though I am skeptical he can fit on it during the next snow. Erin didn't catch on that the gifts were heavy on laughs and light on value, so she was thrilled when several party-goers palmed their white elephants off on her.
What will we do in the afterglow of the holiday? Erin and I have school tomorrow. I will then deliver her to piano lessons, while I make a quick run to the library. Shortly before 5:00 we'll pick up Samantha and head to Houston. Our schedule Tuesday?
7:00 Report to clinic for IV placement and blood labs
7:30 CT prep
9:30 CT scan
11:00 bone scan prep
noon clinic
1:00 bone scan
2:30 endocrinology clinic
3:15 clinic back up (if we don't get seen at noon)
6:00 soccer practice
I'll let you know when we have results.
To understand this update you have to have some background. Walter and I have taught an adult Sunday School class for over a decade. We mix Bible study with books on theology and a heavy dose of historical context. We are called the Loose Leaf Bible Study, because during one set of lessons many years ago we learned that early Christians kept their sacred writings (before the Bible was canonized and made "official") in something called a codex rather than in scrolls like the Jewish scriptures. Keeping sacred writings in a codex was sort of like keeping them in a binder. It allowed various house churches and communities of believers to add to or take away from their collection of writings more easily than cutting out the middle of a scroll, then taping it back together (quite difficult in the pre-3M era, when scotch tape was not yet invented). Anyway, rather than continuing as the Sunday school class that didn't have a cool name, we adopted the Loose-Leaf moniker because it described our rather flexible (some might say skeptical) approach to Bible study.
If you have a name like "Loose Leaf," you have to be prepared to take some good natured ribbing from time to time. Consider all the nouns that "loose" modifies. . .lips, change, women, and most frequently screw.
Anyway, a number of years ago, we all got so busy we didn't manage to get our annual Sunday school Christmas party scheduled before Christmas, so we all decided to wait until after Christmas when we had more time. More time didn't materialize until June. We decorated a tree, dressed in our seasonal garb, exchanged gifts, and really had a good time. We decided that summer was absolutely the best time for a Christmas party for a whole bunch of reasons (if you think about it, you can probably create a long list yourself). Since then, we have our turkey dinner and our conviviality on the upbeat, rather than in time with the rest of the world, and it works out great.
This year, we almost slipped up. Summer came and went, and somehow we had not managed to get together for Christmas. Dorothy and Paul Van Riper saved us by opening their home this evening for the extravaganza. We managed to slip last year's Christmas party in barely before the big pre-Christmas sales started locally. If we hadn't we would have had to have two parties next summer, and that would have been difficult to schedule.
Erin was the official party photographer. Here are a few of her shots:
So we shared the joy of the season and exchanged gifts (I am now the proud owner of paper copies of the past five years of The Chimes, our church newsletter). Since it no longer comes weekly, I think I have a bona fide collector's item (See me if you want to buy them. Soon. Before I recycle them). Walter scored an elegant ceramic sleigh, though I am skeptical he can fit on it during the next snow. Erin didn't catch on that the gifts were heavy on laughs and light on value, so she was thrilled when several party-goers palmed their white elephants off on her.
What will we do in the afterglow of the holiday? Erin and I have school tomorrow. I will then deliver her to piano lessons, while I make a quick run to the library. Shortly before 5:00 we'll pick up Samantha and head to Houston. Our schedule Tuesday?
7:00 Report to clinic for IV placement and blood labs
7:30 CT prep
9:30 CT scan
11:00 bone scan prep
noon clinic
1:00 bone scan
2:30 endocrinology clinic
3:15 clinic back up (if we don't get seen at noon)
6:00 soccer practice
I'll let you know when we have results.
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