Welcome LIttle One

Welcome to the world, little one.

Another boy in the clan, our second grandson.

It's A....

Leave Your Troubles Behind...

I'm killing the hours, minute by painful minute, until morning brings Kate's surgery and the arrival of a new little person in our family.

I've already confessed to being a rotten waiter. I'm no longer apologizing for it. I think God and I have worked out an agree to disagree position on the merit of patience.

I do a mental review of the day and evening. A whirlwind of putting away from our trip over here for Kevin's appointment, accompanied by a parallel whirlwind of packing for my trip back over here today.

Went to Mass on campus tonight, which was absolutely amazing. I'm always awed by the college students at St. Tom's. And Father Patrick's homily made me think, which is what a homily ought to do.

The laugh of the day, the week, possibly the month, came tonight when our friend Patrick K. (he who often gave us the only smiles we had some days last year with his daily emailed joke during chemotherapy) asked about Kevin. We talk about what the doctor had to say then Patrick deadpans, "So Kevin's troubles are all behind him now?"

Kevin laughed out loud when I called him after Mass and replayed the scene. I plan to scan in the full color photos Dr. Francis provided of Kev's inner workings and add Patrick's caption.

This could be the start of a line of greeting cards just for recovering colorectal cancer patients.
"Leave Your Troubles Behind"

Customer Complaints and Patient Satisfaction

I barely had time to awe my captive audience of seniors before a nurse popped out to direct me to the recovery room.

"This is good. Under an hour. Well under an hour."

Kev came in, walking steadily on his own and looking for some snacks. I am amazed. He had an "I'm hungry" headache and he wanted to go to El Rodeo for fajitas before we headed for home.

Dr. Francis stopped in to confirm that the plumbing should hold up another 6 months. There was/is scar constriction but he thinks this was as bad as it will get. Recheck in 6 months to be sure. We talked a little about some of the battlefields of medicine these days; things like caring for patients versus the more anonymous customer mentality. It's an analogy Kevin and I can relate to after feeling like he had a barcode on his butt and was cha-chinged! through a cash register in Cincinnati.

So we are celebrating the unexpectedly good news. Even better, the 6 month recheck will be booked as Kevin's had-cancer-has-to-be-checked-yearly colonoscopy, sparing him a fourth prep and exam in this calendar year. Having the troops back off on the invasion is always a good thing in Kev's eyes.

Waiting with Patients

I am waiting. Again. Along with a roomful of other people, fully half of which also show signs of being impatient waiters.

We've been here since 11:20. It's now 12:57. Kevin and his nurse walked back to the surgery suite at 12:41, IV already in place, all set to start.

The fact that I know, to the minute, when he was led away is testimony to my clock watching tendencies.

The waiting will be fine up to an hour. That's my worry point for a sigmoidoscopy. After an hour, things have usually gotten more complicated in some way and my clock watching, leg bouncing impatience will become obvious.

With plenty of time to go in my worry-free hour, though, I can people watch in between being chatted up by several elderly patients who are intrigued by my computer's ability to be "on the 'net with no wires or plugs." It seems to be senior day at the surgical center; Kevin is among the few patients who appear to be under 65 or 70.

Most of the people in the room, though, are waiters, like me. Waiting for a patient to be called back to surgery or waiting for one to come out. They stream up to the reception desk in turns to ask about time...an appointment hour that's passed, how long until the patient is in recovery, released, returning for a check up. While my policy is not to ask about him until it appears he's been lost--and in pushing 2 years worth of this stuff, that's the one thing that hasn't happened--I know the leg bouncing, toe tapping, watch checking rhythm of the anxious and impatient.

Another senior peeks over to see my computer in action. She talks about her amazement at learning something new each day no matter where she finds herself.

Today I'll set aside the worry in favor of the wonder. I'm going to post this and pop up the front page of my blog...the seniors are going to love the pixel by pixel crawl of my inchworm followed by a burst of butterflies.

I may not have patience, but I can pass the time with wonder-filled patients.

BOSTON UPDATE

My sister has finished the race. Looked a little dicey on Saturday evening after she arrived in Boston and realized she was sick. She was out there running today though with a 10:30 AM start. Interesting little side note...her start time offset was 0:01:59, meaning it took one minute and fifty-nine seconds for her to cross the start line once the race began. Bit of a crowd there at the beginning.

Kevin was texting with her pre-race so we'll hopefully hear something from her again once she visits gear pickup. ***edit note....a brief text message tells us that she's looking for a cold beer to celebrate the moment...***

Race stats:

Total Race Field: 26,331 Entrants
Time: 3:47:17
Overall Placing: 12,187
Women's Placing: 3,559
Age Division Placing: 617

Rightsideupsidedownness

Kate's rightsideupsidedown kid is still that way. In spite of the best efforts of the doctor, this baby is still happily floating feet down in it's watery world. Kate still thinks she has more time to go before her due date--that baby knows it's not quite time to greet the world and is enjoying life rightside up until then. Her doctor disagrees so a battle of the wills is almost certain to play out this week in that office.

In any case, baby appears to be healthy and Kate feels ok so we'll wait and see what this week's appointment brings.

I remind Kate that she was my own stubborn baby, arriving 3 weeks after the projected due date and still managing to be born face first, as if she couldn't wait to see the world she had delayed meeting.

BABY UPDATE

Does it come as a surprise to anyone that Kate's baby is in a breech position? Is anyone surprised that my artsy gotta-do-it-different kid's kid would eschew the common and much easier position of entry in favor of a "my way" way of greeting the world?

Kate herself was a breech baby who was turned at the last moment but still delivered face first, neck flexed back in an apparent eagerness to see what the world offered once she was headed in the right direction to get there. She was also 3 weeks past her due date. All of which, I now realize, was a bit of foreshadowing as to just who this new little person was destined to become.

The news of her own rightsideupsidedown kid, and the doctor's eagerness to simply schedule a c-section, threw Kate for a loop. For about 15 minutes. After which she rallied, met with her doula for some regrouping and researched her options. That's my girl. Arm yourself with information then wear down the medical opposition.

Sunday morning at 8 AM one of the partners in her doctor's practice is going to try to coax this baby into turning and facing life head on. It's a hospital manuever where the baby is monitored while they do some external prodding in the hopes that baby will reposition.

We're going to head over late on Saturday and be at the hospital Sunday morning to offer a bit of (grand)parental support. There's some small chance an immediate c-section could result but it's not likely.

Kate thinks her troubles will be over if Baby Gizmo cooperates and upsidedownrightsides him/herself. I can smile that secretive smile of a mother who knows much better. Kate's life adventures with a "do it my own way" kid are just beginning!

BOSTON BOUND

This one's for my sister who will be running the Boston Marathon on Monday, April 20, 2009. My little sister did her first mini-marathon in 2004 in Indianapolis and has been non-stop since. She's run marathons and 50 mile cross country races all over the United States. Qualifying for Boston was a big goal for her and I'm outrageously proud of her. A couple of years ago she was chosen as an alternate for the Blue Planet Run, an organized global run to promote awareness of the need for clean drinking water.

So she's not just a good runner. She's a good person who's a good runner.

Kev says he's her biggest fan. He supports the racing scene by frequenting the various food vendors who congregate at these venues. He's been known to get so excited when she crosses the line at Indianapolis's Mini that he throws both hands into the air, dousing bystanders with Pepsi and the guts of a gyro in one fell swoop.

The weather forecast for Monday is mid 40s and cloudy which should make for good running conditions. (this from the woman who wouldn't walk across the parking lot to the mailbox on a damp April day in the 40s)

Support the runners by viewing the race live online Monday at
http://www.universalsports.com/SportSelect.dbml?DB_OEM_ID=23000&KEY=&SPID=13048&SPSID=105671

WAITING...

...that thing which I do so poorly that I'm actually quite skilled at not doing it well.

Waiting this time for Kevin's blood counts from this week's visit with the oncologist. The all important CEA which may (or may not, let's be honest) reveal cancer growth. He doesn't have another PET until July so the CEA is our current indicator of what's happening right now. Last PET was February (which we viewed, see yesterday's post) and all looked fine.

We will be in Indiana for the Easter weekend, helping with the Triduum and Vigil at St. Tom's and enjoying time with family and friends.

In the meantime, I wait. Impatiently.

A Peek Inside...

In a blissful change of pace for Kevin, hearing "have a peek inside" didn't result in a medical spelunking expedition through a body cavity.

Instead, Dr. Skinner provided a computer look at Kev's most recent PET/CT scan. That's the inside of Kevin you're viewing, with his oncologist giving a fingerpoint tour of the anatomical structures from top to, er, bottom.

If only he had had this photo when our girls were teenagers. He could have definitively refuted those disgusted girl looks that said his brain was either absent or firmly planted somewhere other than in his head.

Embracing the Child of *OD

The blog has a groupie. Well, more detractor than fan, but a regular visitor nonetheless. Someone who dug up the blog on a search or saw it on someone else's blogroll or knows someone who knows someone who knows a friend of mine with the blog address. Some distant, cyber out-there, writer who is determined to save me from me.

The blog groupie believes everything happens because God planned it to happen that way. He's mightily worried that I mostly don't think it's a plan at all, but rather a perfect storm of God-gifted free will which lands any one of us where we are at any given moment.

I moderate comments the blog receives so Mr. *OD'S Plan gmailer hasn't gotten any press here. I even stopped publishing posts for a while thinking the lack of content (apparently the lack of relevant content wasn't a deterent) would send him packing. Hasn't happened so I'll be posting again and probably going back to publish those weeks of unpublished posts.

I love that the blog groupie doesn't write "God," he writes "*OD". He thinks it offends God when people write G-o-d. He filled multiple comment boxes with a dissertation urging me to repent and be a "child of *OD."

I'll continue to risk my salvation, and possibly yours, by spelling God with a "G" and wondering out loud if He doesn't agree with me that some people could benefit greatly from a sharp twack on the noggin.

To be honest, I'm tickled pink that my commentor cared enough to do a daily drive through. He's been more consistent about visiting than I am about posting. He's also missed the fact that I am completely and dangerously bored most days and find him even more entertaining than the 4-footed window peepers I encouraged this time last year.

I'm going to embrace my inner Child of *OD. It's so me. I'm think of putting it on a t-shirt.