It's Exhausting!

Droid Incredible Phone

There's some dialogue from the movie, He's Just Not that Into You that has always resonated with me. Drew Barrymore's character (whose name is Mary, ironically) is tying to explain her confusing and frustrating love life,especially the pattern of communicating to schedule a meetup - and also scheduling the actual communicating - that her and and some guy have fallen into.

"I had this guy leave me a voice mail at work so I called him at home and then he e-mailed me to my Blackberry and so I texted to his cell and then he e-mailed me to my home account and the whole thing just got out of control. And I miss the days when you had one phone number and one answering machine and that one answering machine has one cassette tape and that one cassette tape either had a message from a guy or it didn't. And now you just have to go around checking all these different portals just to get rejected by seven different technologies. It's exhausting."

My iPad

For real, this IS exhausting and not far from the truth!

I've written about this before. I have thought about it a LOT. There is an incredible, bizarre, and addictive attachment to technology that is so pervasive in everything we do. And the constant interfacing - the relentless updating - and the fucking over-saturation of information - it's just a fuckload of wild. 

But I love some of this stuff. I love that I can update my laptop's calendar, which automatically pushes to my iPad, and my phone, which are all different platforms and O/Ss, and manufacturers and colors, and I think - Hell yeah, that makes things nice. Hell. Yeah.

Tom with part of the 343 Team, being shown concept art for Halo 4

Of course, having a mobile phone is de rigueur - is it so pathetic that I feel lost without it? But it can be quite a distraction. Not always crazy about sitting with a bunch of friends and everyone is silent - texting, surfing, emailing --- oyyy.


Speaking of lost, there's my GPS, Beatrice. She's gotten me out of a jam or two. 

And there's more good tech like online banking. And shopping. Recipes. Research. Writing.

Some day we'll have these guys in our homes?

But it sure gets wonky at times. Scary - this wonderful crutch.


So, despite our repeated exposure to the EMP, the data dump, and the dancing kittens, WoW, being pwned,  the braying politicos, traffic cams, internet trolls, the unfortunate disposed royalty of [insert African Country here], and the Epic Adventure in 3-Fucking-D...



We gotta make the best of it - and try to find the way to the simple heart of things - at all times.

Late Night

Blue Heart in Clear Star

Late Night randomness:

Just never enough time. Or if there's time, never enough desire. Of if there's desire, there's a conflict - something else vying for attention. 

Still, there is inspiration. Inspiration to leave something out there for the world to find - even if it's just a bunch o' nonsense.

It's late. Obviously. I'm tired. Long day. I took one guy to Dr. appointment, then helped another guy study for a history final all the rest of the day and evening. And it's even OK that I didn't get to do any of my work (writing not housework) today. Had I a deadline, that might have been different.

But no, no deadline. And this last couple of weeks I've been feeling more committed to my work. Feeling like I'm progressing and accomplishing and all that happy hoo-ha. 


Tonight, I don't have anything particular to say, and I'm tempted to just wipe these bits of bloggy bytes bye-bye.


Still, I feel like I want to leave a bit of beauty, at least in a photo, like above. The words are shite, but the intention was sweet, not too bad for a late night.

Oh the Irony

Or the timing. Or the ironic timing. Young Prince has been out all day, Lord and Crown Prince and Companion Knight were out on an errand. I decided to dedicate the alone time to sitting in the sun with a book and a beverage.

Had to hit grocery store, wasn't too lengthy a visit - only saw one person I knew (But hi to Coach Jamie!) - came home, put away groceries, start laundry. Then I realized that neither the yard nor deck had a very convenient sunny spot. 

OK, so I settled on just taking 30 - 40 minutes on sitting out here to read in this room, by the open window, feet up, music streaming (Norah Jones radio on Pandora). Sounded great.

I am carrying things like a water bottle and an open bottle of Sam's Summer Ale, and the phones and iPad (reading eBook Storm of Swords, which - God willing - will become Game of Thrones Season Three next spring) and next thing I know I'm spilling beer all over my wicker coffee table.

First thought..."Oh how STUPID!"  Next thought, "whew, at least I didn't get any on my electronics."

So, I have to remove my cutesy little linen tea towels which were not very fricken cutesy being beer-soaked, and I rinse them out and toss them in hamper. Then I finally, FINALLY get settled in the loveseat, take a sip, sigh contentedly - and I hear the Tahoe in the driveway.

FML, indeed.
 

Dark Blogging

I have a friend who blogs quite regularly. The posts are typical slices of life – glimpses into day-to-day activities and family stuff. Not boring at all, more like ‘comfort blogging.’

Heart in Darkness

Also the delivery of these scenes, the writing, is good. Sometimes joyous moments are recounted, and sometimes concerns about family members and friends darken this writer’s heart. Either way, it’s a good read. And at some point I think they mentioned the term “dark blog.”

Now I’m not sure what actually happened, but the premise was that this friend was starting a secondary blog, to write about private things. Things that weren’t meant to be shared with anyone. Or perhaps by anyone who could actually identify the author.

Now, this friend’s current blog does mention plenty of private things, but they are different. Not too different from some things I blog about. Sometimes painful things. When I post in this space, of course I know it’s public, but there’s still a sense of anonymity. Crazy idea, that. My justification is that I can be more of myself here. On Facebook I have to be a bit more careful. I have certain family members, peers, and some young people that I don’t want to offend by cursing or ranting against uptight conservative Republicans. ; )

But if someone stumbles across this blog and sees my flinging of the fucks and more, well – I didn’t actually invite them here. It’s not like I’m flaunting it.

And of course, the above is really some degree of bullshit. I have linked my blog on Facebook, and it’s also part of my email signature line. So, perhaps the invitation takes a more passive-aggressive approach – I dunno.

But the point is kids – I like the idea of dark blogging. A place to really examine what gives me anxiety, stress and even shame. I know what that is, it’s called a diary. No one is supposed to read a diary; it’s just the private musings of the author and beyond that, no one else.

But we take to the internet, the most public of forums to express the most private horrors. The vastness of the Ethernet seems like a safe place for confessions. I think it’s because we really want someone to read our thoughts. For commiseration or validation, or even punishment – we crave that connection that we can’t get with diary.

I will say that – and wow this makes me feel old – but those young kids are braver than I. Either they don’t care about filtering, or decorum, or whatever, but it feels like their blogs, vlogs and social network postings are SO much more personal than what I’m capable of, for good or for bad.

Maybe it’s because Gen-X,Y,Z have figured out at a younger age something very, very important:

Don’t worry about what others think about you! 

By not caring too much about what people think, I'm able to think for myself and propagate ideas which are very often unpopular. And I succeed.
- Albert Ellis

Or something a little different, but still applicable:

“Fashion fades, only style remains the same – Coco Chanel

And of course:

Conformity is the jailer of freedom and the enemy of growth.
- John F. Kennedy

Tiny Steps - Big Dreams

Well...right. I've been away. Not "away" like have my face done or removing an extra appendage or anything like that - just been very caught up in other things. I've been writing, yes, but not blogging. Nor have I been giving any love to Driving Home...*sigh*.

But still, I have been writing and keeping busy with other freelancing projects.

And of course, playing the role of Mom. Sometimes it's The Witty and Patient Mom, sometimes it's Mom - the Sleepy, Cranky, and Rather Pathetic Person Behind the Coffee Pot, and mostly it's Mom - the Absent-Minded Chauffeur

Speaking of Mom roles, during the week before Mother's Day, I was in a well stocked garden center, looking for a particular kind of ceramic hanging planter for my MIL. We've been looking since Christmas, and luckily this day I found exactly what I was looking for.

Then I found something totally different - tiny gardens! This place had a display of mini plants and several types of terrariums and mini-conservatories. I was really enchanted with the whole concept, but I didn't feel like it was the right time to indulge myself.

However, several days later I remembered this display, and gave it as a suggestion for a mother's day gift.  So, Mom's day came and went, and that whole affair is the subject of another blog, but I did receive a gift certificate the garden center and today I finally went there and picked out some nice items. Which I will show you in a second.


But as an interesting aside, I offer up the blog of friend, colleague and author, Connie Phillips. During the last couple of weeks, I have been a combination of ill and very busy. But I managed to peek on Facebook now and then. A couple of times I noticed Connie's status update with a link to her blog, and some sort of mention of Fairy Gardens.


This wasn't a total surprise. I knew that Connie had an affinity for the wee sprites and friendly fantastical creatures known as fairies. I also knew that Connie had recently accomplished a wonderful goal - she was going to have a book published! Her paranormal romance Fairyproof had just been contracted by Crescent Moon Press, and this was so exciting to hear. Especially since I had read some of the first chapters, I felt that little bit more of a connection.

And today, as I was oohing and awwing over the sweet little garden accoutrements, the gardening guru employee noted, "oh that's for Fairy Gardens." 


It's funny though, the synchronicity that moves through our lives. In the last few weeks I had scoured the internet - looking for images of conservatories or Wardian cases. I found some very gorgeous and inspiring stuff.  Anyway, all those dreams of creating something cool and new and adorable somehow helped me in other ways.


 Although right now I'm going in a different direction than Connie with my writing, I still get the same kick out of just plain creation, that she, and many more of us do. So, I've recommitted myself to a writing class, and although it's SO slow going, it is going!


Tiny Steps.

 And now, here is a tiny garden for whatever fairies/muses want to stop by

Light and Faith

So, I had this figurine thingie that Dave and the boys picked out for me a couple Christmases ago. It had a tiny blue light at the underside of the "F" (See, it spells out the word "Faith" - duh), that shone a special beacon down on Mary, Joseph, and Baby Jesus. I'm thinking it meant to emulate the Star of Bethlehem.

Very nice. I would leave it out all year, changing the location now and then. And at Christmastime, I'd turn on the light.

But, last year I think, something happened to it. It fell or was dropped, and as you can see, there's a crack in the "F". Anyway, although the crack was repaired, the light has not worked since. We tried some new batteries, and it still doesn't work. Maybe the wee bulb broke, or the wiring went wonky after the damage. Still, it's a pretty image, and it was displayed with the rest of the Christmas things.

This morning I had to be up extra early. I had not slept well, and by 9:00 am I'm dozing in a chair while looking at cookbooks. I woke up just as a ray of sun was shining on this scene, hitting precisely on the little family. It was almost eerie, like in that scene in Raiders of the Lost Ark.

And what does it all mean? 

Oh, heck, I don't know. Not exactly. But what I'll take from it is...even if you feel your faith has been fractured or weakened or trampled on, hang on anyway, and God will light your way. Truly!

Saving Grace

I'm going to save a scrap of paper. Silly idea? Maybe. I save way too much as it is, even unintentionally. I just cleaned out my old purse and found all manner of trash, scraps and wrappers and crumpled tissues.

But I think I need to hold onto this wrinkled Burger King receipt, and here's why: Recently I was at the mall with the two Princes. We were exchanging Christmas gifts and spending new gift cards, you know, the typical post-holiday activities. We were at the food court Burger King, and I had just ordered a meal for Tom. While I was waiting for the food, a girl was ordering french fries from the dollar menu. She was a bit surprised when the total came to $1.09. The BK employee reminded her about food tax. "Oh, OK, sure." But since she only had the dollar bill, she was calling to her companion to bring her purse so she could get the extra pennies needed. 

She hollered over a few times, and the friend either did not hear her, or was just too slow. A bit of a line was growing behind her. A little voice inside me said that maybe I could just hand over the nine cents, and move things along. But a moment passed by and the friend was not responding. So eventually (like 30 seconds) I did respond to my inner voice and gave the girl the nine cents. She was grateful and I imagine, so was the BK guy, and everything moved along. Then when they called the number for my order, I looked down at my slip to confirm.

"109"

Yeah, that's right 109, like ONE dollar and NINE cents, like $1.09.


OK, OK, I didn't cure cancer or save the world from nuclear terror (like my old pal Jack Bauer) - it wasn't the most noble or generous of gestures, but the confirming truth of what happen hit me anyway.

Listen to that still small voice inside. It may not direct you to cure cancer or save the world, but  grace will abound from unexpected sources and circumstances. Share it, and you will save more than you can imagine.

A Christmas Haiku

Milky sun shines down

on a December morning 

we prepare for Him.

 

More Christmas

Christmas Window

Christmas Buffet

More images. This is one of my favorite parts, making things beautiful in the house. Wouldn't it be nice if that's all that I had to worry about? 

We had some company* last night, so much of the day was spent cleaning and tackling some larger decorating tasks (fixing the mini white lights in the living room that I love to have on all the time, and then they get burnt out - so - it was time to replace. And maybe I'll post a picture of that later.)

Anyway, that old pre-stress appeared, along with the requisite backache and bitching at everyone. I so much don't want this to happen again this season, especially on Christmas Eve. That's when we are always scrambling - taking care of last minute shite.


*Company as in mom and bro in-law and a few of the kids' friends who all gathered here for dinner before taking off for the Riverhawks game - leaving me alone! So..it wasn't "Company" company, but still - one wants the house looking somewhat decent, ya know.

The Days Before Christmas

Muted sun on a chilly December morning -
Coffee, muffin, and chore list -
Candle lit, holiday tunes on Pandora -
And on we go!

Random Check-in

House is at it again, Mr. Machiavellian.  Taub and Chase are back, it's nice to have some continuity besides Wilson and Foreman. I'm intrigued by Park. She's odd. Patient nearly needed a liver transplant. 

Speaking of transplants, the Young Prince had a visit to Boston today. Went fine, blood work fine, iron will be decreased, and soon, the Valcyte will be gone. Still sorting out the nausea/vomit episodes, and we will discuss another endoscopy in a month. 

So, I've become enamored by Blunt Cards. These are profane little bits of hilarity dressed up in 1950s garb with a topical message.


But topical and hip and "now" and "wow" aren't all they're crackberried up to be. I've become increasingly dismayed by the speed that life demands of us. We are urged to go faster, do more, and we are saturated to the point of suffocation with information and how can a person even think, let alone breathe?

Vacation Report

Brief report from Vacay land. Trailer had a flood, and it happened as long as a month ago, and was left unattended - only because none of us had a chance to come here since the service company was here fixing a leak. Some family members were here before others and started wet/vaccing and dehumidifying, so that was a help, but WOW, did it smell bad. 

We are still learning the extent of the damage, been here for almost two days and we keep seeing trouble spots and more mold. Service company that most likely caused this cannot get here till Wednesday, which is unacceptable, but holiday and all that, what can you do. And it still smells bad, although not quite as bad as before.

Today, the 4th has been dry, sunny, and mildly breezy, so this all helps too. We are having some laughs, and last night we got to see a good friend jam with some great musicians. They were all really great. So, we are making the best of it.

But today we had a whole other scare. Tom came back from playing badminton with some extreme pain/discomfort - so bad he really couldn't communicate with us. He was pointing to his chest, (right side, so at least it didn't seem like a heart problem) and was agitated. Surely, we were headed to an ER. Never seen him so uncomfortable, he couldn't even concentrate on the "from 1 to 10, how bad is the pain?" question.


But within about 10 minutes, he calmed down, and he is feeling much better, seems to be a pulled muscle. 


Don't need this much drama!

 

Things that Piss Me Off - or - Haven't People Got a Clue?

As I always say, the world would be better if everyone were like me. Alas, they are not - so every so often I see fit to rant on what is just - plain - wrong.

Well, that can't last very long - the imperious/smug act, I mean. I actually am more humble, or try to be, than I let on. I work on empathy, and I have little tolerance for those who have little tolerance.

Still, things piss me off - such as this:

Couple mornings ago, dude in large pickup pulls up in front of my house, honks the horn and looks at the house expectantly. I was still had not had enough morning Joe to make sense of it for a moment. My first thought was that he was picking up a child from a sleepover, but then I realized that 1) did not recognize the vehicle, 2) there were no kids at my house but my own.

I am now a little pissed. I've never been a big fan of honking outside someone's house, but it's not a deal breaker necessarily. But, it appeared that this dude was a stranger, and that's just wrong. I briskly walked to the front door and stuck my head out. I'm not sure who spoke first, but I think the first thing I said was..."why are you honking outside my house?" And his oh-so-[important/validating] reply was, "I got some extra asphalt, you need some?" He then pointed to the end of the driveway that meets the street. There were the average cracks and dimples and messed up bits that I figured everyone has, everyone who has not newly re-surfaced in the last bunch of years. Nothing too bad. No sink holes, nothing deep enough for a punji stick. (pity, one way to get rid of solicitors)

Still, didn't need his leftovers. And if I did? Is this a way to go about business? It's one thing if you're cruising down a street and you see a neighbor out - you could ask. But to stop outside a stranger's house and just honk your flippin' horn?

Flippin' tacky is what it is.


Next up - I get a phone call the other night. Did not recognize the caller ID.
Me: Hello
Them: (Spoken with very poor elocution, and with higher volume than decorum allows, basically poor manners)   Yeah, this is (a three letter alphabet company name, which I forget, I will just refer to them as ABC), I want to come drop off (or was it pick up? I really forget) the check.
Me: Who?
Them: ABC, the transportation company, I want to do pickup/drop off the check.


- I think, wait, is this the limo company that did the airport transport for the Make-A-Wish trip? No, the name sounds wrong, the ride was already paid for, and besides, they'd be a hell of a lot more professional and pleasant.


Me: I'm sorry, I'm confused, who are you looking for?
Them: Wait - (longish pause) ...
--Click--

Me: Hello? Hello? He hung up...I wonder why he hung up. -( no wait, that's Pink Floyd.) But he did hang up abruptly, and without a gracious goodbye or a "sorry my bad" or nothing.


Still - I was gobsmacked. What just happened? OK obviously it was a wrong number situation. Hey, no biggie, it happens to all of us. But wait, this was different. You don't call, and keep saying the same thing, when the person on the other end obviously does not know who you are or what your business is. You change your tactic, you explain things in a different way, you don't breath through your mouth, you don't get all nearly shouty. You enunciate, dear man.


And then when you realize your faux pas, you don't just hang up on a person, as if you'll get cooties!


You know, I called that number back. I really did. It went to voice mail. But boy, had I got my loud boorish ABC guy on the phone, I would have gone all Emily Post on his ass.


Oh, and then there's the walking medical dictionary with no filter at Starbucks. Let me explain. I got my latte and cookie and sat down to kill some time and start in on a new book, Brother West: Living and Loving Out Loud, A Memoir, by Cornel West. I don't know a lot about Dr. West, but he's intrigued me for a while - so it was on sale, yaddah, yaddah.

So, I'm sitting there, and there are two women at the table right next to me, chatting and there was also a small girl who belonged to one of them. Because of the proximity, I could over hear a lot of what they were saying, but I was able to tune it out, and it wasn't anything that was too loud or two weird.


But that changed in a little while. Evidently a woman who was two tables away from my neighbors overheard their convo, and started asking questions of the one of the woman, the one with apparently a multitude of health issues, including a poorly working social filter, or internal editor. 


Deal Lady - you don't go yakking about such things as your procedures and your hysterectomy and your hormones and your this and your that, to a person two tables away, in a mixed company setting, that is NOT a doctors office, or a support group.


A brief blurbie is fine. Oh yes, you tried that med? Me too, it worked/it failed - etc. Done.


But this convo went on, and on, and on, and ohDearGod, just move to sit next to your audience and lower your voices, for Pete's sake!

Who raises these people?


So - these are the things that trouble me. The thing is, sometimes life is so difficult, I need to focus on these other things that in the long run, don't matter one fucking way or another. Well, they do. I wish people had better manners, but still - I think the need to just ramble and vent about dumb things as well as the important things is crucial.


And that's all I'm going to say about that.

In the (Google) News

The Kindness of Strangers

I'm amazed really, at how much it hurts. Each time that Tom goes through something, and after he's getting better, and the care-giver adrenaline subsides, I'm left with a wound. It hurts, and each time it surprises me at the severity and at the recurrence. 

Oh, and the timing. 

That's the kicker. It's been a little over a year since Tom had his transplant, and I think we all thought that most of these sorts of days and worries would be behind us. Yes, we expected some new worries; the rejection question, and his susceptibility to illness would be the big ones. But this other stuff, the CVS* type of sickness, or whatever it was that plagued Tom from November to March and caused him to lose over 30 days of school this year, no one quite expected that.


Yet, here it is, back again, for a brief stop or an extended run,  or something new is going on.


He's fine now, sort of. The Make-A-Wish trip/getting ill thing was horrible (and the Memorial Day weekend illness was a bit scary), but he made the best of it and at least got in the last day of E3. Fine for the rest of the time, and for the trip home. And he was fine for his last week of school/finals, and fine for his first week of summer vacay, but last night -  he vomited.


It's makes me sound a bit mad - getting all dramatic about a puke session. But when this has happened again, and again, and again, and again, and again, and then wethoughtitwasoverbuthegotdreadfullysickinLA - the drama is already built in.


Last night was hopefully a one-off. It could have been anything. Food at Chunky's didn't sit well? He was overtired from two sleepovers this week? Who knows. And he felt better after that one vomit. Been OK today, just a little tired.


And we've mostly recovered from the LA thing, that wound is healing. 


But I am covered in bruises. Not the cool kind I used to get at the dojo, although I feel like I must have earned some sort of new rank by now.  


These bruises are quite invisible, but just as real. These ones though, I didn't expect. I'm really sucker-punched, each time.


However...


I'm also hugely and amazingly amazed at the "kindness of strangers" Did I say amazing? I'm having a hard time processing it still.


Now I would imagine that an organization that knows they are dealing with a Make-A-Wish recipient is going go out of their way to please the kid. That makes sense. But what happened with Tom - I still don't know how to describe it.


Well, he's been getting stuff. Lots of stuff. I was putting pictures on Facebook, but I'm not going to do that anymore, I don't think. I don't appreciate these gifts any less, but I'm thinking it will look "showy". We pretty much expected these items, because all the gaming folk showed Tom stuff and then promised to ship these items out, but it's almost too much.


Don't misunderstand. This isn't a criticism of the gamers. It's incredibly cool. And we are receiving things in the same spirit, we get why they are doing this. 


But when I consider all this generosity, I'm still at a loss to describe how surreal it all feels at times.

This Reads: "We'd like to thank Tom Williams and his family for supporting our family. Bethesda Softworks" Yes, really.

But for now, I'll leave it with "humbling."


*Cyclic Vomiting Syndrome

Scattered Vacation Thoughts

Scattered and distracted, ignoring the disarray of luggage and souvenirs. Questions remain about biopsy results and blood counts. Photos need tagging and describing. Dead flowers are wilted from overdue stay in milky water but I don’t have the energy to get rid of them.

 

So many to thank for helping wishes come true, but the miasma of battle fatigue and depression keep me motionless. Heavy arms and weary heart thwart my good manners.

 It will pass. It will pass.

Persistence - and Passion - Pays Off

A year ago today, Tom had his liver transplant. We celebrated with just the four of us last night at the Olive Garden, one of Tom's favorite restaurants. I'm sure his docs would have been thrilled to see him eat two bowls of chicken gnocchi soup, most of his steak and potatoes, three bread-sticks, and dessert. We certainly were thrilled.

And how did he celebrate today? Well, the kid had to go to school. They sort of require that.  : )
But Tom was able to realize a big dream, of having a huge assembly/presentation at his school with (I believe) most of his sophomore class, and many seniors, and perhaps some juniors were there too. Lots of kids.

Tom is stubborn. He annoys me greatly much of the time with his persistence about stuff. But I've known for a while that this quality was going to serve him well, as it did today.

For this assembly, Tom had lined up quite a few speakers. He had Mike Slama, a man who received a heart transplant a few years ago, talking about how lucky he has felt every day, and how happy he was that Tom was able to share in that same feeling of gratitude. Also on the agenda was Sam Scott, one of the program managers of the American Liver Foundation, who spoke of liver health, and had some stark images of healthy and sick livers. At the sight of  very diseased, cirrhotic liver - I heard one student exclaim, "oh please change the slide" - yeah, it was pretty gross. 

Also speaking was Nancy Erhard, a woman whose son died several years ago, and Nancy and her family made the difficult, yet easy decision to donate whatever was needed from her son Bo. Nancy speaks at functions often about Bo's story, and she has worked with Jamie Redford (Hollywood legend Robert Redford's son) through the Share the Beat organization.


We also heard from Nick Giordano, a man who has run 11 marathons, and who himself was diagnosed with liver disease. Nick was chairman of the Run for Research Team this year, and at the very end of the day, he graciously and humbly gave Tom his marathon medal.

Even at a younger age, Tom was a fund-raiser. Here he was preparing to ride the Pan-Mass Challenge for Kids

Tom, recovering from his first surgery, age 12

And because of Tom's persistence, he was able to line up Matt Noyes, the meteorologist for NECN. We talk about Matt a lot, because he has been such a tremendous support not only for our family and for Tom, but for the New England chapter of the ALF. Matt is a very, very busy guy and he's also got a beautiful young family to take care of too. But this year, the great staff at the ALF convinced him to run in the Boston Marathon. Matt has been involved with the ALF for several years, as MC for the Liver Life Walk. He's also involved in other charities as well, and his enthusiasm for life is contagious and inspiring.


And of course, there was a nice plug about the upcoming Liver Life Walk by Hung Pham, an ALF staffer.


It takes great persistence to make all this happen. Of course, I took care of a few emails and phone calls, but Tom's passion was the driving force to bring this event alive.


It also took a lot of passion for a shy-ish 16 year old to get up in front of an auditorium of peers and tell his own story, starting from first diagnosis to his surgery a year ago. He spoke of various procedures he endured, holidays that were basically ruined, too much time out of school and other snapshots of how his illness impacted his life.




But he also spoke of his friends, and how much they meant to him, and how he appreciated their support. And Tom spoke about Rachel's Challenge, and how by either joining him at the Liver Walk, signing up to be an organ donor (for those 18 year old students), or just being more aware of others' suffering - can answer her challenge and "Start a Chain Reaction" of making life a little bit better for someone other than themselves.

Look at the Alternative

Funny but true exchange between the mammogram technician and myself:


MT: OK, now put your right sleeve in and take your left sleeve out.


Me: (trying to use humor to deflect the awkwardness of the situation)  Sure, but just don't ask me to "shake it all about."
MT: (laughs)
(pause)
Me: "Only if you have some $1.00 bills to throw at me"

MT: "Well, I guess we could get some people in off the street with their dollar bills."


Yeah, seriously this happened.


Mammograms suck. But look at the alternative. 

While I was getting mushed and tugged at, and at times I gasped from the discomfort, I kept saying to myself, even when it got quite painful. "You can do this. It hurts, but not as bad as cancer"

No Agenda

Awesome pre-game warm up viewing

OK - here I am. It's been a while. I've been a slug about writing. A slug I tell you! But I haven't been a slug in real life. Most of March has been chock full of stuff. There have been doctor appointments for the princes (this is the norm, anyway), dental appointments, a fund-raising event for the Liver Foundation, a concert, a night out with brother and GF, another Liver event (working a water stop for a training run), a Celtics game (courtesy of Make-A-Wish)...

Dropkick Murphys Concert

Oh, and OF COURSE, the birthdays! Three birthdays just in our wee family, which meant shopping and restaurant a-going. Except for me, I opted to stay in and have takeout from the delicious Blue Taleh. And then we did it again with the extended family, for there are THREE MORE March birthdays. More shopping and one more restaurant meal.

And Tom was ill a couple times during the month. Not much to say about that. Wait and see, wait and see.

Here's a random thought -

Two-Bit, - grooming The Young Prince.

Children and pets. What we love and even admire about them, is their unabashed manner of asking for what they want. When they want food, it's obvious, when they want to go out, they ask, over and over and over - again.

And when they want love? They just take! They know will not be denied. And we love that! How did things change to put us adults into a more coy, aloof, polite mode of living? OK the polite thing has a place. Discretion and tact are necessary.

But really, wouldn't it be great for us to all act more like children and animals? Private toileting aside, there are many virtues that I think we are missing out on here. 

So this post had no real agenda, just a catch up for my legions of followers. Stop laughing!

Take care and I WILL be back.

Less is More - part Two

So, yesterday was a clinic appointment for The Young Prince. About a 25 minute wait in the lab, and then upstairs for another while. Then the usual height/weight/BP. All fine enough. Seems like Dr. E. was hoping for a little more weight gain, but not hugely important.

As I expected, we spent most of the time talking about how to proceed with the cyclic vomiting issue. And we have a plan! We're going to try and tweak one of his current meds that may help calm down the GI system. And if it does happen again, we will most likely bring him to the hospital as it's happening - so they can do a CAT scan, or maybe an upper GI

I guess there is a possiblity that there could be adhesions or a blockage that didn't show up before on other tests. And if there is a blockage? I guess we won't worry about that now. 

So, it's really a minimal amount of fuss at the moment. We don't have to mess with his diet again, and he does not have to start a new med. Actually, he is going to now substitute his much hated Mepron for Bactrim! Mepron is a thick yellow liquid - the visiting nurses always called it "yellow paint". But the Bactrim, a tablet, only needs to be taken three times a week!

Less is more!