It's in the Details

We're having company tomorrow. Our first real guests beyond our kids. And I've never met them. Kevin's college roommate and his wife.

Those first three lines would normally motivate me into sleepless action for the next 18 hours. There would be fresh flowers on the entry table, cutesy handtowels hanging in the bathroom and newly ironed sheets on the bed in the guest room. For guests who are not spending the night. I would have changed the sheets.

Just in case.

I made two lists--I like lists. They are at least the equivalent of having a plan and we all know how much I believe in having a plan. Marked off lists are even better; the tangible proof of a plan in motion.

The grocery shopping list is completed. It has a satisfying red line across each item.

The "do" list is suffering from neglect. The only red lined items on it are "make grocery list" and "grocery shopping."

And I'll admit I added both after the fact so something would be marked off the "do" list.

A year ago this would have sent me into a panic. I think. I never actually let a list be so undone so late into a plan and I'm only guessing it would have caused me to unravel.

The new me in our new normal isn't too worried. The essential things will be essentially done. The non-essential things might get a look over. And it will all fall into place one way or another.

It's a little frightening to live inside this new me. I keep waiting for some sort of "OHMYGOSH" moment to zap me into action. Maybe in the final hour before our guests arrive some sort of frenzied action will take over, but so far it's looking good for a stay of execution for the dust bunnies.

I think cancer has been the ultimate "OHMYGOSH" moment in our lives so far and it's put the details of life in perspective.

Quintessential Kate

We were driving home from Milwaukee today when my phone rang. The caller ID says it's Kate. It was one of those phone calls that makes your parental heart lurch. A sobbing child on the other end, a bad connection so you can't fully understand what she's telling you and you are trying to pick out the details while your mind shifts into "fix it, action mode."

All from hundreds of miles away.

If you're a parent you will understand my next observation.

I can judge the gravity of the situation by how quickly the daughter on the other end becomes annoyed. The best case scenario in a sobbing kid phone call is that the winds will rapidly shift to the kid being annoyed because I am too stupid to understand what is being said in between the sobs and static.

Kate actually has a pretty good temperment in these things and wasn't too short about my failure to immediately comprehend. I think Kate is used to being in the sort of situations that simply defy normal experience so she knows it's going to take me a few minutes to get up to speed.

She was driving on the interstate, heading to Indianapolis to take her state board exam, when the back bumper of her car ripped off the car and landed in the median. Just blew off. No accident, no bump, just ripped off her car in the wind. No one was harmed, but she had no bumper or license plate on the car now.

What??

She hits the high points again and adds that she can't be late for that exam. After talking for a few minutes, Kate is much more calm and is turning around to see if she can retrieve at least the license plate if not the whole bumper. She calls a little bit later, once again headed toward Indianapolis and her exam.

"Did you get your license plate?"
"Yes. And the bumper."
"Is the bumper in your trunk?"
"No, I couldn't get the plate off it and it wouldn't really fit in my trunk. It's in my backseat. And my front seat. If I get pulled over for not having a plate on the back, I'm just going to point to it and tell the cop that I did the best I could do."

I think she's safe. No one could make up this kind of stuff.

Quiet Times

Milwaukee--

Kevin had a little time one day between day meetings and dinner meetings. We went to the lakeshore--walked a little, drove a little, sat quietly and watched the scenery a lot.

Beautiful, warm day. People were picnicing, biking and flying kites along the lakefront.

It was good to have a quiet moment away from work and cancer and everyday adjustments.

This ain't Orlando, Honey...or San Francisco...or.....

Kevin's annual SPE conference trip. He and Kate made this May conference their father-daughter "thing" for her high school years. Orlando, Dallas, San Francisco. Kate would take a tour of the city or lounge poolside while Kevin was in meetings then they would explore the area when he had some free time.

I think they stopped phoning me with "traveler updates" after one infamous year when they were in a convertible cruising over the Golden Gate bridge and had the unfortunate timing to call just as some little person vomited all over me.

" You rented a convertible? Oh. You're driving across the Golden Gate? Oh. On your way to tour a winery? Oh. Well, gosh, I'm so merry freakin' thrilled for you that I could do a happy dance. But then the puke on my shoes would spatter across the rest of the floor. Dinner? At the winery? Sounds lovely. Me? Well, I was going to have the leftovers from lunch but now that I get a second look at them on my shoes, they don't look all that great."

It seemed like a reasonable response to me.

There was an unspoken pact after that to downplay their travel escapades.

Now that I'm not working and am finally able to travel with him, where are these conferences held? Chicago. Milwaukee. This is not the lush tropical or exotic locale he promised when I signed on for this plan.

The downtown buildings block a view of the lakefront from our hotel but I'll settle for a fiery sunrise beyond the skelton of towering scaffolding.

If You Have to be a Grandma, Be a Cool One...

Joshua's soccer team is called "Fire." He thinks that is very cool.

We were able to see him play today. It is my completely unbiased opinion that he is one of the best players in his age bracket. At least he understands which goal they're aiming for which is a big leap ahead of a number of the kids out there.

Kevin's long ago coaching days come out in flashbacks during the games. I have to remind him a lot that he is GRANDPA at these soccer games, NOT "Coach."

I scored major grandma points by making a t-shirt design for Josh with the team name and some photos I took at his game.

It doesn't get much better than having a 6 year old think you're amazing.

Well Dressed Driving

Left home early this morning so we could make Josh's soccer match on our way to Kev's board meeting and conference in Milwaukee.

SPE board meetings are a sort of mental milestone for Kevin in his treatment and recovery. Something to aim for in his bid to have a "normal" existence through as much of this as possible. Last fall his goal was to make the Chicago meeting. Once that was done, he set his sights on May.
Traveling with cancer adds to our baggage. There is a bag packed with single serving size drinks since Kevin can't tolerate the cold drinks we could buy on the road. Along with the drinks, there is an assortment of single serving sized foods--to hold off the nausea he has to eat small amounts more frequently and we have to be careful about "public" food with his blood counts being low. There's another bag full of his medicines and diet supplements. That's kind of mind boggling for a guy who used to consider it a big deal if he had to take 2 Tylenol to shake a headache.

The best news about him being able to make this trip is that it means we get to push off his next chemotherapy treatment by a week. So he has extra time to recover before the next kick is delivered. Maybe some of that cold induced neuropathy will ease up in his hands and feet.

I realized what a good thing that extra recovery time may be for him when I noticed his driving attire this morning. No fancy leather driving gloves for him; the smartly attired cancer patient dons soft warm knit gloves before grabbing that cold steering wheel.

Early To Bed...

Thought I would check in before heading off to bed. It's early, just after 7 PM, and I'm beat. So is Kevin and we still have packing to do before heading off this weekend for his conference in Milwaukee.

Kevin is glad to have the extra week off chemotherapy. He's very tired, physically and emotionally. The whole effort takes a toll. He's tired of the nasty taste, the pain, the headaches and the nausea. He's just tired.

I'm not sure why I'm so tired. Everything seems to take twice as much energy as I have and I fall asleep everytime I sit down. I've been telling Kevin it's my way of being sympathetic to his very real fatigue. Sort of like the guy who gains 15 pounds while his wife is pregnant.

I think it's just been a long, long winter around here.

So I'm off to bed while the sun is still out and I'll worry about everything else tomorrow.