Sunday, May 23, 2004

“Wow, What a Difference A Day Makes!”

(or) “The Man Who Invented Zofran Should Be Sainted”

You know, I was only kidding when I said the visit from the twins was what had been keeping Kendrie’s chemo side effects at bay this past week. Deep down, I just knew it was because my child is a super-hero, able to rise above the nausea and vomiting that often afflict so many others undergoing the weekly drudgery of injecting poison in their veins. And wouldn’t you know, not half an hour after our company left us Thursday night, she started throwing up??? I guess there’s more to be said for distraction techniques than I gave people credit for! Serves me right for being a Doubting Thomas. Once again I say thank you to the chemist who came up with the anti-nausea drug, Zofran, so our lives can continue in a semi-semblance of normal.

Friday, the next day, was our annual Field Day Extravaganza, and let me just say that Kendrie’s heart was NOT in it this year. In case you don’t believe me, take a look at this picture of her.

Keep in mind that there were close to 600 kids nearby, showing off their mastery of Olympic-level athletic skills in complicated events such as running with beanbags on their heads, jumping through hula hoops, balancing eggs on spoons; you get the picture. She just doesn’t seem too impressed, does she? I might be biased, but I like to think Brayden and Kellen were some of the best spoon balancers and hoop jumpers out there.

Now, before you go thinking I’m a completely cold and callous parent who would leave a child this miserable in a chair all morning …………….. well, actually, I did. But she perked up at lunch for a moment and I called Blaine to come from work and spend the afternoon with her while I worked in the snack tent, dodging exploding 2-liters of strawberry soda and trying to maintain order amid the chaos of dozens and dozens of thirsty, crabby, hot, hungry seven year olds, all yelling for service and shaking Ziploc bags full of quarters in my face (little obnoxious hooligans). All in all, a fun day. Once again, Zofran to the rescue and the rest of the weekend progressed at a more enjoyable pace. We even managed to go swimming today, which is pretty much the highlight of summer for my kids. (We’ve got the sunburns to prove it, and I even put sunscreen on them, twice!)

So, anyway, enough about this cancer stuff with all its puking and whining. I need to talk about much more pressing matters --- like the fact that I think my kids are the weirdest children on earth.

First of all, Kendrie, with whom I had the following conversation yesterday:

Kendrie: “I want to wear boy clothes. I want to wear Kellen’s underwear and pajamas

Kristie: “But you’re a girl, why don’t you wear girl clothes? Or at least wear your own pajamas?”

Kendrie: “When I grow up, Jesus is going to make me into a boy

Kristie: “Oh really? Jesus is going to make you into a boy? What makes you say that?”

Kendrie: “Kellen told me

Truthfully, I could care less if she prefers Scooby Doo underwear to Dora panties, but I’d prefer NOT to think we’re headed for any sort of gender reversal surgery!

And I’m not so sure the other two are doing much better, what with their own weirdness and all. Here’s a conversation that took place between the three of us this weekend:

Brayden: “OK, here’s the magic trick. Now what’s the magic word?”

Kristie: “Abracadabra?”

Brayden: “no”

Kristie: “Supercalifradgalisticexpialidocious?”

Brayden: “um, no

Kellen: “Gertrude Hamhocker?”

Kristie: “who???”

Kellen: “Gertrude Hamhocker. Mom, how many syllables in Gertrude Hamhocker?”

Brayden: “who on earth is Gertrude Hamhocker?”

Kellen: “the President of the United States. No, just kidding. That’s George Washington

Kristie: “I think you mean George Bush”

Brayden: “You know, I don’t understand why they call him George Washington”

Kristie: “I’m telling you, it’s George Bu--, oh, never mind

Kellen: “I can understand the ‘Washington’ part, since he lives in Washington … hey, that makes sense! But I don’t understand the George part.”

Brayden: “I know! George—a. Like where we live! Georgia Washington!!!”

Kellen: “Mom, how many syllables does Georgia Washington have?”

So, as I type this, I’ve got one daughter sleeping in her brother’s Batman underwear and dinosaur pajamas, and two other children who I think need either therapy, or summer school history lessons. I’m not sure which.

I’d like to encourage you to check out the journal entry of May 20 at Nicky's Page for a GREAT Top Ten List written by his mom on Nicky’s 6-month anniversary of diagnosis. Not only funny, but all true!

And kudos to our friend Kim, who not only thrilled Kendrie beyond belief by sharing the twins with her last week, but also for donating TWELVE inches of hair to Locks of Love right before she made the journey to Georgia. Way to go, Kim!

Wish us luck this week as we attempt our first serious vacation since Kendrie’s diagnosis, complete with air travel and rental cars. My concerns aren’t really cancer-related, but more the normal concerns that pop up when traveling with three kids under age 7; “I’m hungry, I’m tired, I’m thirsty, I’m bored, Where’s the restroom?” etc etc. Actually, now that I think about it, with the exception of the restroom part, we have pretty much the same conversation every day in our own house! But wish us luck anyway!

Take care,

WORST PART ABOUT HAVING CANCER TODAY: Having parents who force-feed me anti-nausea medication.

The four or so hours after the anti-nausea medication and how fantastic I feel then!

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