Sticky Tape Thursday

The fawns came out to play today. One little guy was intrigued with the spray from the garden hose and inched his way up the hill.

The fawns are more curious now and venture beyond their mother's limits. Mama doe has apparently decided it's easier to boss me around than her children--she lets me know if I'm too close by stomping the ground with her front feet and making short charges toward me.

I'm afraid of her even if her kids aren't; my camera and I retreated to the safety of the patio.

Trying to capture a decent shot of the fawns is a good distraction. We're still waiting on the PET results. Time lulls me into what I hope is a deserved sense of security--overall in this year of cancer treatment, no news has been good news.

Kevin continues to heal from having his port removed. We eased the last of the steri-strips off today to avoid having them totally stuck in the returning hair. The welts on his skin and leftover tape residue are reminiscent of previous Thursdays during chemotherapy.

I'll crawl into bed tonight with a prayer that today is the last Sticky Tape Thursday Kevin will endure.

Forward Here, Backward There

Distracted myself from the angst of waiting for Kev's PET/CT results by finishing a gift for Father Patrick. I've been working with some of the photos a friend, Pat Kuhnle, took at Father Patrick's ordination in June. Pat's photography, pages from the diocesan ordination booklet and my Photoshop skills are combined into a 50 page book we are having printed by viovio.

You can take a look at the uploaded pages of the book here:

http://www.viovio.com/photos/gallery/27978

To further his own sanity, Kev's been working on his bike each evening. Riding with Josh last week has inspired gramps to want to ride more along the Miami Trail.

His fingers are cooperating a little better as the week has gone on--sensitive to cold again for whatever reason but working well enough to let him hold tools while working on the bike. He was eating a popsicle tonight so the cold wasn't bothering his mouth as much but he had a towel wrapped around the popsicle to protect his sensitive fingers! This healing process is a step forward here and a step backward there.

The Stuff of Gardening

Summer has set in with a vengeance. We've had no measurable rain in a week now and it's become very hot. I was watering our flowers today and thinking about what it used to take to keep the gardens up at our home in Indiana.

Apparently it took a lot more than I realized when I was doing it.

We have a small flower garden here in Ohio. Small by our standards anyway. The house in Indiana has more gardens than lawn. Last week I had a chance to get starts from some of my favorite plants when we needed to meet a contractor at the house.

The visit was a gardening eye opener. I couldn't believe the, well, "jungle like" quality of the backyard gardens. I used to compare the place to a jungle in terms of the lushness of our gardens. I can see how far off I was; NOW it's a jungle. Overgrown with weeds as well as desirable plants left to run amok.

I was stunned that less than one growing season could bring so much change! More noticeable, though, than the weeds (and with some topping out at 4+ feet they're noticeable), are the skeletal remains of formerly lush plants.

I don't know if it's last year's drought, the hard winter or a reaction to a hostile occupation. Whatever the reason there are multiple dead plantings throughout the yard.

One of my intentions was to get starts from the Japanese Anemones that covered large beds in front of both kitchen and living room windows. I like them because they bloom late in July and August and continue to bloom until October when everything else is gone for the season. They can be hard to locate at a nursery plus why pay for what we already own? I rounded the corner, spade in hand, expecting the usual July landscape of 3 and 4 foot tall anemones and I found...nothing. Bare earth. A closer exam revealed a few small anemones scattered through the beds.

I don't know if the tenant pulled them out, cut them down or just willed them away but they are pretty much eradicated. Seems odd that someone would go to so much trouble to wipe out something so pretty while 10 feet away the thistles are growing 4 feet tall.

When we made the decision to become landlords I knew one of my challenges would be to accept that someone else may not keep the gardens the way I wanted them kept. We even offered to remove much of the planting to make upkeep easier but our young tenants were certain they wanted to become gardeners.

I may not have properly conveyed just how much time is involved in the gardens.

I'm pleased that overall I'm not reacting much to the jungle-esque quality of the place. There is one tree on the whole property that I didn't plant; everything else was put in place by me. So I thought letting go of it would be a lot harder.

Now I think what's going to be a lot harder is the sheer labor of getting the jungle back under control from a property management view. I've realized the plants and gardens themselves are just more of the "stuff" that exists in life; we enjoy it, for a while we think it's more important than it is and then something real in life gives us a sharp **thwack** and we realize it's just stuff.

I haven't totally resigned my attachment to the stuff of life though; especially the esoteric stuff of nature. Four sad little Japanese Anemones replanted to our small garden here in Ohio are testament to this truth.

Scanxiety II

Kevin completed the PET/CT this morning. It took about 2 hours. While it isn't an intrusive test (read that as, "no one saying 'Doctor will want to have a little peek up there...'") it is a long test. You have to hold your arms above your head during the scanning which adds to the neuropathic pain in Kev's hands and lower arms. And lying down with his head partially covered by the scanner triggers Kevin's tendency toward clausterphobia. He says he did ok because he knew how it was coming but the morning wore him out.

In the early days of Kevin's diagnosis and later through periods of intense recovery or sickness, he was so wiped out that he processed only a small portion of everything being thrown at him. That's when we learned the essential nature of having someone along as an advocate.

One of the first things we make clear with a new medical office is that this is a package deal and I am going to be with him if it's at all possible. Works well for my hyper-vigilant anxiety and for Kevin's worry about not being able to hear and respond well to medical providers. Generally his doctors like the results too because they can double check with me when they have concerns that he might be downplaying a reaction or symptom.

Unfortunately radiological imaging is one of those areas where he has to go alone. Usually I can sit with him until the scanning begins and I've been known to camp in the hallway outside the door of a CT room. Kevin does better if he knows I'm nearby.

With limited space in the mobile imaging trailer, I couldn't sit with him for even the hour period of quiet rest after the imaging injection. Plus they want patients to be very quiet after the injection to minimize false positive results--nothing to stimulate cells into extra activity which might give a false indication of cancer cell activity.

Ha! I have no trouble imagining Kevin's brain cells functioning at warp speed during this "quiet time" as they assemble of list of why he doesn't want to be there. Better to distract them with trivality than taunt them into action packed resentment.

Kev looked a little like a lost kid as the tech collected him from the main waiting room. And he had relief all over his face when he came back 2 hours later and I was right where he had left me.
So when do we get results of the scan?

Beats me. Kevin didn't ask and doesn't remember the tech telling him.

I should have sat outside the door of the trailer.

Scanxiety

Kevin has a PET/CT scan scheduled for this morning. Another part of the gathering of information as it is now so we can better track changes later.

Normally his oncologist here in Ohio would have ordered a PET/CT upon his initial diagnosis. It would have indicated if there were cancer cells anywhere else in his body. PET/CT wasn't being done in Lafayette at the time (maybe not even now) so we had to rely on CT scanning, blood work and pathology (no found lymph node involvement) to tell us there was no additional cancer.

PET/CT is a combination of imaging which shows a very complete inner view of the body. CT shows size, shape and location of body anatomy. PET shows metabolic/biological function. When combined there is a complete image showing the location of organs and body structures as well as how the cells are functioning. PET works by using an injected substance which shows the cell reaction to glucose. Cancer cells collect glucose quicker and stronger than other cells so will show up as bright spots through PET imaging.

The picture on the right is an example of PET imaging.

As the list of Kevin's tests and procedures goes, this one isn't bad. No nasty invasive stuff; no unpleasant after effects to wait out.

Nonetheless I am awake early and my sleep was filled with vivid dreams.

If there is more cancer--anywhere--this will be the most likely test to find it. And I dread that possibility.

I've replayed blood counts, chemistry and tumor marker numbers in my mind a dozen times overnight; recalled CT results from the past 6 months which showed no sign of cancer; gone through everything which tells us he is cancer free.

Yet here I am, bombarded with the negative thoughts of what might be lurking.

Scanxiety.

Waiting and Watching in the Sun

Josh tackled the water slides of The Beach Waterpark today. I planned to have one shot at pictures because I didn't think he would do it a second time!


Josh was pleased with himself for trying out the slides. He wasn't offerring a second go for my photo taking attempts, but he was happy for having been once.


Kevin didn't fare as well at the waterpark. One step into the wave pool and he was in instant pain from the neuropathy in his feet. Who would have imagined the water would be so cold this late in the summer?

We retreated to dry ground and enjoyed watching Josh drag his mom and Rob through the maze of slides and pools. The plus side of grandparenting--we watch while they hike all over after the kid!


Kev's disappointed that the neuropathy continues. It appears to be worsening; it's certainly changing from the numbness he's had for weeks. It hurts now. Maybe the increased tingling and pain is part of the healing of those damaged nerves.


Healing continues to be a waiting game. On one hand, being able to watch and wait means he made it through alive. On the other hand, it frustrates him to have felt so good before he knew he had cancer and to feel so crappy now that the cancer is gone.

The Hero, Part II

Kevin's role as hero continues. He and Josh have returned to the Little Miami Bike Trail. They're exploring the other direction of the trail tonight.

Kevin is filling time until Josh's mom shows up tonight. Giving me another shot of quiet before the activity and noise level kicks up for the weekend.

Josh and I rode bikes today and visited a local playground. Made a lunchtime trip to Buckley's for birdfood. Played the Wii. Watered the flowers. I have the most well watered plants in southwestern Ohio this week. Josh finds anything having to do with water, the garden hose and sprayer to be great fun.

I am exhausted. The boy is still going strong and was thrilled when the new shift pulled up in the form of Grandpa Kevin.

We have a day of swimming planned for tomorrow at a waterpark near King's Island. Kevin and I won't stay long. Chemotherapy has left him very sensitive to the sun and he's still healing from Monday's surgery to have the port removed so we'll make a short visit to share a little of Josh's fun then come home.

And take a nap.

Kevin the Hero

Kevin is my hero.

For so many reasons.

Today he realized I was talked out by the conversational tenacity of a six year old. So, in true hero fashion, he gave me some chatter free time by packing up Josh and their bikes for a ride on the Little Miami Trail.

The guys rode about 40 minutes on one leg of the 70+ mile trail.

Josh was excited when a "wild" deer leaped across the trail in front of them. He's apparently realized there's a distinct difference between foraging in the woods for your existence and showing up nightly to raid the feeder filled by the nice people.

Kevin was pleased to get to ride under the bridge known in our home as "the scary bridge" and get a chance to see the engineering of it from below. He gets tired easily but biking is easier for him than walking; less wear on those healing nerves in his feet.

And me? I had big intentions. I was going to have a quiet bath. Maybe read a book without pictures in it. Watch a TV channel where there is no animation and no one tries to knock another person off a revolving platform with enormous padded clubs.

Instead I fell asleep sitting in the backyard. I woke up with a feeling that someone was watching me--sure enough there was a doe with 2 fawns next to the trees.

I could see envy on her face; she wanted to trade places with me, just for a while.

http://www.miamivalleytrails.org/miami.htm

Quack That

This country's energy crisis would be solved if someone could harness the excess energy of a small boy.

Combined with the imagined energy level of the fifty-some year old boy in his grandfather it becomes exhausting just to exist in the same household.

This evening--after Josh and I spent a full day in bike rides, baking and waterball fights--we drove down to the river to take the promised ride on the duck boat.

The ride began on land in Newport, Kentucky, headed across the bridge to the landings in Cincinnati where we drove straight into the water with a big splash. Kevin and I had seen the boat launch last weekend so we knew the back seats were the wet ones. We carefully steered Josh to a dry midway point. The ride comes complete with a duck bill shaped duck quack whistle and riders are instructed to quack at pretty much anything that moves.

A Reds game had just gotten over in Cincinnati so there were a lot of people in the area. The Cincinnati police have got to be hating the incessaant duck quack whistling they are bombarded with as they stand midstreet with a lot of impatient drivers coming at them. Pedestrians are also fair game, as are construction guys and anyone else walking, driving or biking near the riverfront.

I expect to read a headline soon about someone being strangled with the cord of their own duck whistle.

The boating part of the ride was more stable than it appeared. Josh enjoyed getting to ride close to the Belle of Cincinnati, his favorite boat on the river. Kevin and I have probaly spent hundreds of hours watching the river from above so it was interesting to see it from this new perspective.

After we got home the boys decided a bike ride was needed. We rode the two mile long bike trail here in town. Josh was the first to spot a deer alongside the trail, an appearance I would have been willing to bet wouldn't happen given the nonstop noisy chatter and the duck quack calls coming from the boy child.

The doe had that "mom look" about her that told me she knows just how it is.

And her kids don't even own a duck quack whistle. There's a special place in the afterlife for the guy who created those whistles. I'll bet it's warm.
The boys have fallen asleep watching a movie. I am thinking of easing their duck quack whistles over their heads and throwing the things as far as I can into the woods.

I hope the doe's fawns don't find them.

Past Port

Kevin's implanted port was taken out today. Like chemotherapy, it doesn't quite feel "done" because he's still dealing with the healing part of it.

It was interesting to learn Kevin didn't recall seeing the port before today. Dr. Francis was very good last fall about showing one to us and walking us through the procedure step by step. I think by that time Kevin was in a daze from all that had happened so quickly.

If, like Kevin, you're curious about what's been lurking below that bump on his upper right chest, I've posted a picture of a Power Port. The triangle port was implanted below the skin of Kevin's upper right chest with the tube tunneled under the skin and up to a vein in his neck.

His surgeon knew I was curious about the removal and he let me watch as the port was taken out. It was done in the "procedure" room of his office and Kevin was awake for it.

The incision runs over the one made when the port was implanted so he won't have another scar.

Might not be something for the squeamish or those bothered by blood but I found it very interesting and watching helped me understand a little more of what Kevin has gone through.

The three of us--Kevin, myself and Dr. Francis--chatted throughout about the doctor's overseas mission work this year. He works with a group of Christian physicians to provide needed medical care across the globe. That's one of the many things we like about him.

What I like most about Dr. Francis is how comfortable and confident Kevin feels about him. That confidence level has such a positive influence on Kevin's response and recovery.

We came home to Ohio afterwards--picked up Joshua on the way. He is staying with us until the weekend.

Kevin has gone to bed with an ice pack on the incision and a dose of Tylenol for the ache. I'm certain the area will be sore for several days--after watching today I have a much clearer understanding of the bruising ache that goes with even minimal surgery.

It's been almost a year since we were suddenly thrown into what still feels like a foreign--and, for Kevin, often hostile--land. It's good to be leaving it bit by bit in the past.

Fair Food

And another successful 4-H career takes off.

Hannah had the great pleasure of not only winning her class in the Cats project, but also gathering a blue and Grand Champion in the entire Senior Cats division. She and the hissing cat then went on with a Best of Show placing to win the entire Cats project.

I think the best part was Hannah's total surprise. She had no idea how well she was advancing and what the fuss was about--just showed up in the ring each time they called her name. Her smile was enormous when they handed her the trophy for her division. When a big plaque followed for Best of Show her smile nearly wrapped all the way around her head.

Kevin and I put in a long, long day. Late yesterday evening we made an unexpected trip to Chicago to retrieve a replacement part when a tool broke at the Ohio plant. We took the Lafayette-Chicago-Lafayette leg of the trip and handed the part off at noon today to be carried on to Ohio.

We skidded into the fairgrounds just in time to catch Hannah's Cat project judging.

Our day ended with a visit to Haylee and her parents then congratulatory ice cream at the Igloo with Hannah, her siblings and their mother.

Kevin is exhausted. The nice satisfying exhaustion of a busy day well spent. He has a little more endurance these days; still tires easily and sooner than he would like, but it's improving. His appetite is better and some foods are beginning to taste "right" to him. I noticed him crunching ice this weekend--something I haven't seen him do since last October. He says there are places where the cold still hurts his mouth but it's worth the occasional jolt of pain to be able to have the ice on a hot day.

Nothing like pushing through for a good cause, I guess. Rib eye sandwiches and elephant ears were also on the list of "all for a good cause" foods. Kevin plopped 2 elephant ears down in front of Hannah & Co. only to learn they had never tasted one.

"We don't know if we like that or not. What is it?"

"What is it?? It's fried dough with sugar on it, guys. It doesn't get much better than this! How did you get to be 9 years old, Hannah, without eating an elephant ear or two or twenty??"

Luckily their mom agrees that after nine years of me feeding her kids balanced meals in daycare it's only fair for her to turn a blind eye to us occasionally throwing in things like fried sugared dough and trips in their pajamas to eat ice cream at the Igloo.

Cupcakes and Kisses

Went to the Tippecanoe County fairgrounds today for the annual kids cupcake decorating contest. This was one of the summer activities of the daycare group for several years and Miss Haylee was doing it again this year.

The hour of cupcake judging was a nice little family reunion for some of the daycare kids. Ella, Colin and Haylee spent the time getting reacquainted and we all cheered Haylee on when it was her time with the judge.

Haylee loves life. She lives it LARGE and is always a delight to observe. Kevin loves her hellos and goodbyes. They are big and full of joy at the time together. Her pictures and letters are just as exhuberant. I can always tell when we have mail from Haylee because Kevin's face lights up as he carries it from the post office.

This is the first we've seen Ella and Colin since December and we were amazed at how much they've grown. Ella is a preschooler now, not the toddler we left 7 months ago. When Kevin was recovering at home last fall, Ella became his buddy. She liked the quietness of sitting with him while the rest of the kids were running around like maniacs and Kevin enjoyed her gentle company.

We're back at our hotel and planning to have a nap before Mass at St. Tom's. Between driving over here at 5 this morning and the high energy level of Haylee & Company, we're beat. We left the kids with hugs, promises to visit soon and a lot of sticky cupcake kisses.

Tips from One Mom to Another

The doe brought up the babies this evening. Two sets of twins came bounding across the backyard until they saw me on the porch and pulled up short.

I could have taken some parenting tips from those mothers.

A couple of grunts from 30 feet away and their children wheel around and return to stand still at mother's side. A little deer sign language in the form of a toss of mom's head, a paw at the ground and the kids disappear quietly into the trees.

My maternal sign language was the sort that was best kept out of public view. Stomping my foot for emphasis only set off a repercussion of stomps from the girls that rivaled anything on stage at River Dance.

And the only time my girls ever mastered a quiet disappearance was when they were coming in late after I had fallen asleep on the couch.

Thirty some years in the game and I'm still taking crayons to Mass and making my girls sit kid-parent-kid-parent-kid just to avoid pinching fights in the middle of the Gospel.

I used to explain my children by saying they had been raised in the woods. By wild animals.

I should have taken my own advice; apparently I was on to something.

Christmas in July

Kevin is brewing up a business trip to Michigan.

Not counting conference trips and board meetings, this is his first far away business trip since I've been here. Possibly his first since last summer.

When the girls were teenagers, we women used to occasionally push the lone man in the household to consider some weekday travel. The hoisting of the family anchor to sanity meant the slight hold on adult choices in our life was missing.

Popcorn and Pepsi for supper. Using the good china and wine glasses. My favorite movie popped in the VCR--White Christmas. In July. Maybe a late evening drive through the campus village to see if any cute boys stayed around for summer classes. Radio cranked up to car shaking levels.

A night or two of innocent frivolity. Then sanity arrived home--usually with his pockets full of peanuts, pretzels, chips, candy; whatever goodies the hotels and airlines were handing out that week. The daughters would carry on about the bags of peanuts as if they contained diamonds smuggled in from Africa and daily life would return to our version of normal.

By the time the girls had all flown the nest, Kevin and I were living in separate states during the work week and his business travel didn't really register a change on my daily radar. Distant was distant whether he was in Ohio or New York.

This will be the first time I've stayed alone in Ohio. I know it worries Kevin. He was getting home things in order even as he packed tonight...taking out the trash, making certain I knew where he kept the extra door key hidden, gassing up my truck, emailing me a list with the phone numbers--work and home--of every person he knows in Ohio.

I'm doing my part too.

While Kevin is gone I plan to go through a couple of moving boxes that have remained untouched since my arrival......I KNOW I packed the White Christmas DVD when I moved here.

Summer Play(s)

We used to love summer theater at the Red Barn Theater near our home in Indiana. We tried keeping our season tickets for a few summers of the Indiana/Ohio commuter years but it became too hard to work 4 plays into the limited weekends.

Today we had the chance to enjoy good summer theater again. We saw "Cheaper by the Dozen" on the Showboat Magestic, the only remaining original showboat on the Ohio even though it is now permanently docked on the Cincinnati side of the river.

Before the show we walked along the riverwalk in Covington. Kevin shared a bench with a lifesized statue of James Bradley and we watched the Belle of Cincinnati, the Mark Twain and the Duckboats cruise the river.

Kev made plans to take Josh for a ride on the Duckboats. I'm not sure if the big draw is the chance to ride in something that drives down the street and straight into the water with a huge splash or the duck call whistle each rider gets to take home.

Kevin is still experiencing a lot of neuropathy in his feet and hands so walking far is out of the question. The riverwalk was perfect for us--a nice level walk with benches that invite sitting and watching the view of the river and Cincinnati skyline.

It was a perfect day for a little summer play.

http://www.redbarntheatre.net/

http://www.cincinnatilandmarkproductions.com/sbm/

Fair-miliarity

Our girls were each 10 year 4-Hers, spanning 16 summers of our family life.

The county fair and summertime go hand in hand in our history. Days (and nights!) spent finishing projects, long hot hours in judging and the smell of hay and animals in the barns. The greased watermelon contest ended the fair for the 4-H kids, a reward for having worked so hard. Throwaway clothes, towels and a large vat of grease cutting orange mechanics soap. There was nothing funnier than our normally pristine girls scrubbing up afterwards in the cattle wash behind the barn.

Tippecanoe County's fair food is legendary. Ribeye steak sandwiches, hoagies, sweet corn, crisp hot elephant ears and lemon shakeups. We don't even sample these things elsewhere, knowing they won't measure up.

We'll be dropping in at the Tippecanoe County fair for a couple of days next weekend. Hannah is a first year 4-Her and some of our daycare kids will be entering the Kooking for Kids class in the Open Show. It will be good to see, hear and smell what's familiar for July fair time.

We started making some new July fair time memories here in Ohio this year. I entered the photography division in the open show and was surprised to win Best of Show with a photo of an egret on Sanibel Island. There were 738 entries so it really was a surprise when I won. The win came complete with ribbons, a plaque, gift basket, prize money and the opportunity to meet some nice people here in the community.

Miss Haylee as the Garden Fairie on the right side of my blog page received a Sweepstakes award in its division and Josh as The Bug Boy received a third placing in its class.

We're looking forward to what we know will be waiting at the fair at "home" in Indiana. The familiarity is comforting and sweet. But it's nice to know what we'll look forward to here in our new home at next year's fair. New familiarity can be sweet too.

We're NOT Going To Need It...

Just home from Kevin's check-up with his oncologist.

Everything looks good. Doctor says to give the side effects a good 3 months to subside and perhaps longer. I suppose three months should seem like nothing after the last 11 months; Kevin is ready for inprovement now though.

Regaining his stamina will take time and Dr. Skinner confirmed that it's a daily thing so not to be alarmed if he's energetic for a few days then very tired the next day. There is so much for the body to regain--getting blood counts and chemistry back in order then allowing muscle and tissue to begin to replenish from those chemotherapy induced losses. One of the (many) things I learned this past year was how altered blood chemistry impacts the body in ways I hadn't realized--muscle mass and tone among them.

Kevin has several appointments scheduled in the next few weeks to get things organized for ongoing observation. Imaging tests so there is a baseline to look at from here.

He sees the oncologist again in 3 months which will be his schedule for the next 3 years...a check-up every three months where they will do blood work. Aside from watching for elevated white counts that might mean infection, they watch for lowered hemoglobin that would indicate bleeding--possibly from another tumor.

They will check his CEA level via blood work. This is the most likely (but not always; Kevin's was not elevated with his initial tumor) indicator of a recurrent cancer. CEA is a protein molecule found in different body cells but often associated with certain tumors. It's expecially prevalent in gastrointestinal tumors. If Kevin's had been high before surgery, they would have expected it to fall after surgery if all of the tumor had successfully been removed. A rising CEA level now might indicate that his cancer has recurred.

Imaging scans will be done every 6 months for 3 years. They will alternate CT scans with PET/CT.

After 3 years, he will drop to an annual schedule and drop off the schedule at 5 years. Colonoscopy will continue at 3 to 5 year intervals for life.

It was strange to be returning to the cancer clinic today. We had discussed some possibilities before going so when a nurse popped into the office to access and flush his port, he was prepared to say he wanted his blood drawn from an arm. With the port being removed in less than 2 weeks there is no need to flush it. Being at the clinic and not having the port accessed is a bit of a victory for Kevin--he hates the thing.

Dr. Skinner's approach to the implanted port is one of the things we like about her. In Lafayette we were told the port would stay in "for years." Pushing that issue, we learned that the oncologist there would insist that it stay in at least one year beyond treatment. In fact, that's such a standard there that Kevin's Lafayette surgeon (who did the initial implant last year and will remove it this month) required Dr. Skinner's written permission to remove it now. Dr. Skinner says a)it bothers Kevin tremendously to have it in and he doesn't need that stress and b) it's a foreign object in a body which could have a risk for infection so why leave it in there longer than necessary.

"We'll put it back if it's needed again. And we're NOT going to need it."

High five to Dr. Skinner. I loved hearing that from her..."And we're NOT going to need it."

Cause & Effect

Joshua called tonight. To tattle on his mother. I couldn't quite make out what it was she did to offend him so greatly, but offend she did.

Josh's reasoning for phoning me is that I am HER mother so I can punish her.

His mom tells me that after whatever it was she did (I think it involved spilling water that landed on him), Josh said "May I see your phone please? What's your mother's phone number?" Then he scooted to the other end of the sofa and announced, "I'm telling on you."

I offered to take away her car--which Josh thought was a great idea until I cautioned him that, without a car, mom wouldn't be taking him anywhere.

When he gets a little older he will understand that it does no good to call me to punish his mom. How does he think she got that way in the first place?

In the meantime, this is another part of the whole "grand" portion of grandparenting. Briefly, I am Top Dog. The Final authority. The One Who Knows All.

I'm going to live it up for the short time it lasts. He's bound to put two and two together soon and realize I am Cause, his mom is Effect.

NOT, again

It is, once again, NOT chemotherapy day. To be precise, it is the end of NOT chemotherapy day.

Kevin needed to pick up a computer in Dayton today so I rode along to keep him company. (OK, it wasn't completely altruistic; I got lunch out of the deal.)

It was during the drive that we remembered today is NOT chemotherapy day. At the top of the list, this meant Kevin did not get to choose our lunch destination. You may recall that chemotherapy day meant Kevin got to choose whatever he wanted for lunch. Which usually included horrors like Goldstar Chili. No more chemotherapy, no more chili lunches.

The drive gave us some time to talk about where he is with the residuals of chemotherapy. Side effects. Thoughts.

The cold sensitivity is slowly fading. He is having ice in his drinks again but not yet able to eat ice cream or comfortably get something from the freezer. The neuropathy continues in his hands and feet. It's changing; less numbness and more tingling sensation. I have noticed less dropping and squashing of things by fingers that can't feel what they are grasping. He continues to stumble easily, especially on uneven ground.

I helpfully reminded him that there was a certain amount of clumsy which came into this deal. It's not fair to blame chemotherapy for everything.

He continues to feel tired a fair amount of the time. I want to remember this and make certain our weekends are scheduled to allow time for him to rest.

We've been told that when chemotherapy is finally over, many people can't believe how quickly the time has passed. Kevin feels like the year just disappeared with no accounting for time passed. For him, it was a year out of his life. For me, it was The Year That Lasted Forever.

But not any longer.

Phone Calls

August 2007 and Kevin is newly diagnosed...the phone started ringing a lot more in our home. Doctor offices who needed more information or had test results, the hospital, the lab; I noticed myself peering at the caller ID before answering and always feeling uneasy if it was another medical call.

The phone rang here this morning and "Clinton Memorial Hospital" popped up on the caller ID.

The old apprehensive feeling hit immediately and I realized the dread of medical phone calls is probably going to continue for a long time. There's this ongoing fear that something has shown up on a scan or an x-ray or a blood test.

Today's caller was one of the volunteers at the cancer center. He wanted to remind us of Kevin's one month check-up later this week.

One month. Three weeks ago, after months of weekly appointements, it seemed like a wonderfully long time of no doctors. Today it's a reminder that we'll be living with the after effects of cancer for a long time.

It doesn't take long to put things into a better perspective. Living with the after effects of cancer isn't such a bad thing.

Babes in the Woods

Today was bring out the babies day.

This morning mama skunk brought the triplets up for a visit. We've had a few glances of them in the evenings when the light is too poor for a photo. Today they were scampering in and out at the edge of the woods.

Kevin wasn't too sure about getting close but I convinced him of their poor eyesight and he was willing to sit hillside and watch their antics.

Hope I'm right about that eyesight thing.

One of the does brought a fawn up this afternoon. I love the spots!

Mother groundhog had her kids out too. And the baby raccoons put in a brief appearance very early today.

Kevin and I sat out back tonight for the second show. Six skunks, 2 does, one lumbering raccoon, a hawk who did his best to have a young rabbit for supper and a multitude of hummingbirds at the feeder. Plus the "fireworks" display of thousands of fireflies in the meadow.

The activity in the woods is an affirmation of life. Beginnings and endings (sometimes the hawk has better aim), new life that bursts out of the darkness of the trees with boundless curiosity and older life that moves with the caution of experience.

Mat Board $1.75, Gas $10

Small town life is still an adjustment at times.

On one hand, it takes as long to get across town here midday as it does to get across Lafayette. I'm not sure where all the traffic comes from--Sometimes I think this is actually a huge movie set like the Truman show and these are all paid extras. I suppose it's because we're the BIG town among the itty bitty towns around us.

On the other hand, it's next to impossible to buy certain things here in town. And there is no making a quick dash to Hobby Lobby when you discover you need mat board at 6 in the evening.

I needed mat board to mount my photos for the fair. Since it's required for the county fair, it seems reasonable to me that I would be able to buy it somewhere in the county. Easily.

Turns out the fair expects around 1000 entries in photography and the local mat board supply was devoured ages ago.

By the time I discovered that the only place I could purchase 16 x 20 mat board was in a neighboring tiny town, it was too late. The streets had been rolled up for the day (at 4:30 in the afternoon).

Needing someting that's not available locally can get pricey at $4.09 a gallon for gas. The $1.75 pieces of mat cost us ten bucks in gas once we drove into the Dayton suburbs to purchase it. We decided to make an evening of it and treat ourselves to dinner out.

Small town life and chemotherapy have limited our eating out and having the options wide open was like winning the supper time lottery for Kevin. He's gradually leaving the nutropenic diet plan we followed for the months he was on chemotherapy. He had fesh lettuce and onions on his sandwich last night for the first time in 10 months and it was a feast. Mind you, his taste buds have still not recovered from their chemo wipe out and iceburg lettuce doesn't exactly pack a high flavor wallop anyway. But the idea that he could safely eat what he wanted was liberating and he enjoyed the freedom.

We drove home on county roads instead of the interstate and enjoyed the scenery. A couple of deer were in the field as we turned on our road and mama skunk and her babies waddled across the edge of the woods when I walked out the back door. It was quiet and there were fireflies starting to show up across the meadow.

There are some things you can't put a price on and small town life--even with its limitations--may be one.

I am, apparently, becoming more local than I know.