Sunday, November 28, 2004

“CALIFORNIA DREAMING”

(or) “How I spent my Thanksgiving Vacation”

Week 16 of LTM


Wow, what a wonderful week we had in sunny, southern California! So many thank-you’s to send to friends, and friends of friends, who were willing to host us during our stay. I have to say, we took the tourist world by storm and thoroughly enjoyed ourselves every single day. Normally, it’s not a vacation until someone gets the stomach flu or we lose our luggage --- this time, pretty much everything went according to plan. What follows is a photo timeline of our eight days, with captions. If you have dial-up, you might want to go get a sandwich right about now …. This could take a while.

“THE GOOD (AND HARDLY ANY BAD) OF OUR THANKSGIVING VACATION TO CALIFORNIA”

Day 1: Leaving Georgia in 60 degree weather and arriving in Los Angeles in 60 degree weather, yet getting to see snow during our layover in Denver. Pretty cool, huh? Unless you live in Montana, and you’re probably thinking, “big stinkin’ deal.”

Later in Day 1: Arriving at the home of our dear friends Kim and Kenny and their boys Jacob, Nathan, Austin and Dylan. Our kids hadn’t seen each other in almost a year and a half …. that’s like a billion dog years to kids at this age! Luckily, they picked up right where they left off and were best buds again within minutes. The boys have been friends since they were five months old, and my girls would have been happy doing nothing but sitting and holding the twins the entire visit. Too bad the twins, at twelve months of age, had different ideas.


“No, they’re not gay. They’re six, and they’re best friends. On second thought, at least we hope they aren’t gay.”

Day 2: Going to the tidal pools to play, and getting a chance to meet Alex and his family. My only disappointment is that I was so busy taking pictures of the kids “enjoying” nature, I forgot to take a picture of Alex and his family! It was great to meet them, though, and hopefully next time we are in Los Angeles we can visit again. (Next time, without coming home with creepy crawly things in Brayden's pocket!)











Day 3: Hanging out on the pier at Redondo Beach.

When Blaine and I lived in Los Angeles from 1996-1998, this was one of our favorite places to spend an afternoon, feeding the pigeons, watching the sea lions, and feeding ourselves. Mainly, feeding ourselves.



As you can see, not a lot has changed! I realize this photo isn’t one of my own children, but I thought it turned out great ….. and no, I’m not stalking total strangers’ children; this is our family friend Nathan, getting up close and personal with his cotton candy. After getting all the kids loaded on a sugar-high, we hit the beach for some shell-collecting, aka ... more creepy crawly things in Brayden's pockets.

Evening of Day 3: We spent the evening having a nice dinner (no kids!) and watching the stand-up comedy routines of Jay Leno and Kevin Nealon. Unfortunately, the Comedy Club of Hermosa Beach doesn’t allow cameras during the show ---- because this is where, if I had it, the photo of Blaine laughing so hard he spit beer out of his nose would be.

Later in the evening of Day 3: This is where, if I had it, the photo of me in a total state of nirvana would be. Cheesecake Factory; chocolate chip cookie dough cheesecake. Need I say more?

Day 4: First official “Tourist” day in Los Angeles --- Knottsberry Farm. We spent pretty much the entire day in Camp Snoopy, letting the children ride rides to their hearts content. My only regret of the entire day is not getting a photo of Kendrie on the Pirate Ship ride. You’ve heard the term “squealing with glee”? She took sheer joy to a new level, and wants to know why we can’t have one in our backyard.



"Not as much fun as the Dragon Ship, but still a pretty good time! Blaine and Kendrie enjoy a roller coaster."



"l-r, Jacob, Kellen, and Brayden. Not sure if this was the first, second, or fifteenth time they rode this. It was one of those, "Again, again!" run-around and hop on again rides."


Day 5: Second official “Tourist” day in San Diego --- Sea World. Now, I’m a little embarrassed to admit that I’m 38 years old and I had never been to a Sea World in my entire life. Maybe I just didn’t realize how cool Shamu really was. But we had a great time.



“So, just whose mouth is bigger, a giant whale, or mom’s?”

The extra-cool thing about our California vacation, and Sea World in particular, is that it gave us a chance to spend the day with another of our online friends in person, Andrew and his mom, Kim. Having corresponded via e-mail for over a year, it didn’t take long to make that “in person” connection to them both (and rumor has it that Andrew has a little crush on Brayden, so all told, I’d say it was a successful afternoon!)



"Enjoying the Shamu show. Enjoying spending time with Andrew. Mainly, enjoying the popcorn."

We stumbled upon the dolphin tank at just the right time for public feeding. Brayden was a bit miffed when a pelican, or some other sort of aggressive, flapping sea-bird creature, flew right at her and stole a sardine out of her hand (and at a dollar apiece for each sardine, I was a little miffed, too!) but otherwise the dolphin feeding was a huge hit.




And by now we had figured out the fall weather in California --- shorts and t-shirts during the day, and jackets and mittens at night. You’d think, after our Easter-weather fiasco in Washington DC, that I would have learned my lesson and packed a better variety of clothing options. Nope, I’m still just as ill-prepared, so we wound up borrowing t-shirts from our hosts and buying stocking caps from Target. (I’m just glad they *sold* stocking caps in Southern California!)

Day 6: Thanksgiving spent in San Diego with Kim & Kenny’s family. We slept in their beds, ate their food, drank all their soda, used up probably more than our fair share of the toilet paper (but definitely not their soap, since my kids didn’t bathe the entire time they were there!) and were made to feel right at home. Thank you so much!


“Our combined gang, working on Year Six of a life-long friendship”

Day 7: Squeezing one last tourist attraction into our week, LegoLand! I don’t know who was more impressed with the statues and mini-cities and creatures built all out of Legos at this park (30 MILLION Legos used in all!); the kids or me. Mainly, the kids wanted to know where the rides were. I was a little hesitant, until I discovered they used actual steel and metal, and NOT Legos, to build the roller coaster. Because for my kids, it was aaaaaaalllll about the roller coasters! But I still made them pose in front of the cool Lego-statues.



Evening of Day 7: Being invited back to Andrew’s house for dinner (thank you so much, Doug and Kim!) and s’mores. My kids would have been willing to skip dinner and go right to the s’mores …. They obviously get their lack of will power from me.



Fortunately, Andrew's mom Kim had the forethought to pack three baggies full of marshmallows for the plane ride home the next day, so we were able to leave without full-blown tantrums.


"Have you ever seen such happiness from a graham cracker and chocolate? Wait. Who am I kidding? That's what I look like when I eat graham crackers and chocolate, too"

Day 8: And here’s the only place where the vacation didn’t go as planned. Thanks to inclement weather in Chicago, our flight out of LAX was delayed by two hours. I would have paid a kagillion dollars to have our portable dvd player with us, but we had to entertain ourselves with coloring and endless games of “Mercy” (until the guy next to us gave us several dirty looks and an indignant "hurrumph!" for having such unruly children ….. come on, man, they’d been in the waiting area for over two hours!)

Then, at 1 am, after traveling for over twelve hours, a mere half - mile from our house, Blaine was stopped and given a speeding ticket. I have to take the blame, since he had just asked me what the speed limit was and I told him wrong. I’d offer to pay the ticket, but what with me being a stay-at-home mom and all, I’d have to borrow the money from him and that just seems silly now, doesn’t it?

So there it is in a nutshell. A week of fun and friendship; good times, good food, good friends and great memory-making. Blaine spent today putting up our Christmas lights, the kids “supervised” and I actually got all the laundry done. Tomorrow it’s back to our school routine, with a chemo appointment (and the start of a five-day steroid pulse …. Ick!) thrown in on Wednesday for good measure. Kendrie’s got some serious looking red circles under her eyes; whether it’s being tired from our whirlwind week of activity, or from playing outside all day today, or from crying for thirty minutes when she found out she was given the position of LAST in the bathtub tonight, I’m not sure.

I hope everyone else had a wonderful Thanksgiving holiday, as well.

Take care,
Kristie
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KENDRIE’S PERSPECTIVE:

WORST PART ABOUT HAVING CANCER TODAY:
It’s the weekend. Which means more Bactrim. Sigh.

BEST PART ABOUT HAVING CANCER TODAY:
Remembering how much fun I had making s’mores at Andrew’s house! And holding the twins ... when they weren't frantically crawling away from me. And wrecking Nathan and Jacob's playroom. And going to all those cool places ..... wow, I guess I had a pretty fantastic week!

Thursday, November 18, 2004

"GIVING THANKS"

(and/or) ONE YEAR LATER, THE CRAP SANDWICH DOESN’T SEEM AS BIG ....... (see last year's Thanksgiving entry if you have no idea what I'm talking about!)

Week #14 of Long-Term Maintenance Therapy

Q. Which is the most elusive, most sought-after, most hard-to-find thing in the entire universe?

a. The Fountain of Youth
b. The Meaning of Life
c. A single ounce of talent or humility or modesty in the life of Paris Hilton
d. A 2004 Flu shot

Can you guess which one we discovered today? Here’s a hint: We’re old …. We’re not very profound …. We don’t watch the Simple Life …….. but hopefully we’re protected from the flu this year!

That’s right, the Escoe clan managed to get flu shots today. And we didn’t even have to threaten, bribe, steal, or beg. The immunization clinic on base accepted the letter from Kendrie’s oncologist, stating that her immediate family members should be considered “priority” since she herself is “high-risk” and the clinic took us as priority patients once their shipment of shots arrived. Isn’t it nice when something actually works out the way you hope it will?

Sore arms aside, things on the medical front have been pretty normal. For you chemo-junkies out there, I don’t think I mentioned that at Kendrie’s clinic visit last month, her counts, for the 3rd month in a row since starting long-term maintenance, were higher than normal.

Quick cancer lesson: “ANC” actually has two meanings in the land of childhood cancer--"A"bsolute “N”eutrophil “C”ount, which is some sort of medical math equation that doctors use to figure some measure of infection fighting ability times the square root of zero carry the one and multiply by the white count and eventually you will figure out the strength of chemo … blah blah, it’s something medical. The other definition, used more commonly by cancer-parents everywhere, is “A”ny “N”umber below 1000 or above 2000 makes us “C”razy. We are always shooting for that window between 1000 and 2000. We’re not really sure why, again with the medical stuff about if it’s too high the chemo might not be strong enough and if it’s too low than the chemo is too strong plus the child’s infection fighting ability is in the toilet …..

Anyway, Kendrie’s had been high for three months in a row despite her being on 100 percent of the recommended dosages of chemo. So after her last visit they increased one of her oral chemo drugs (methotrexate) by twenty-five percent. We had her blood counts checked today, and the ANC level is at 1183 -- perfect. Hopefully when we check again at the next visit in two weeks it will still be perfect, otherwise we’ll increase or decrease one or the other meds by however much is necessary, and stand on one foot and howl at the moon and spin around three times or whatever we have to do to shoot for that magic number again. (I’m sure it’s a very scientific process if you’re a doctor and know just what the heck these drugs do. For us, it’s more about how much applesauce will we need to get the drugs smooshed up and into Kendrie each night!) So that’s that.

In the non-cancer portion of our simple little lives, we are getting BEYOND EXTREMELY EXCITED to leave on our Thanksgiving Vacation! Not only will we be staying with some of our dearest friends in the world (they’d have to be pretty dear to put up with our thundering herd for seven days!) in California, but we are also getting a chance to meet two of our online friends in person. Andrew and Alex, there's a Georgia whirlwind headed your way that just might measure off the chart of one of your fancy-California richter scales! Hang on to your hats ... we're on our way!

Speaking of friends, a few entries back I told you about two local families we are getting to know through our middle-Georgia area support group. Well, (warning, profanity ahead) one of the shittiest things you will ever hear in your life is the pronouncement your child has cancer. (This, I can tell you from experience) Probably the one thing that is shittier, because your bubble of naiveté and ignorance is gone after awhile, is the pronouncement that your child has relapsed and the cancer has returned. This is the case for our new friend Baby Jay, who finished his treatment for medulloblastoma last April. He’s cruising along, not a pre-school care in the world, when WHAM, a check-up scan shows the tumor is back. Jay’s treatment plan is still being decided at this point and I’m sure his parents would appreciate all the words of support and encouragement they can get. Please stop by Jay’s website and let them know you are thinking of them. T.H.I.S.S.T.I.N.K.S.

………………………………………..



In keeping with the holiday spirit, here’s a photo from Kendrie’s Thanksgiving Feast at school this week. I have to tell you that I think “feast” is a generous term, considering the kids ate popcorn, raisins and candy corn. But they sang a song, churned butter, read stories, and made lollipop turkeys. Not sure how authentic it was, as I doubt the original Pilgrims and Indians had glass baby food jars for liquefying the butter ….. but we still had fun.


And lastly, I wanted to share some words of Thanksgiving insight with all of you. As you may or may not know, I scrapbook (obsessively) and try to write down a few nuggets of wisdom from my kids about the holidays each year. So, I asked each of my family members what Thanksgiving means to them, and will leave you with the following conversations:

…………………………….

Kristie: “What is Thanksgiving all about?”

Kendrie: “Turkey”

Kristie: “Anything else?”

Kendrie: “Steak”

Kristie: “Well, what about being thankful?”

Kendrie: “I think being thankful means helping people when they get hurt.”

Kristie: “What are you thankful for?”

Kendrie: “I’m thankful for Kellen and Brayden and Mommy and Daddy and Lager (our dog) and me.”

Kristie: “Anything else?”

Kendrie: “I’m thankful when Nurse Mary accesses my port because I want to get better. {I swear I am not making this up. I almost cried when she said this ….} Two more things. Four, actually. What else should I say? I was thankful when Fosters (our old dog) was alive. And I’m happy because you let me be born. I’m thankful for when my Dad worked on the airport. (what????) And I’m thankful because Jesus died on the cross so we didn’t have to do it.”
………………………………………………………..

Kristie: “What holiday is coming up?”

Kellen: “Thanksgiving”

Kristie: “What does Thanksgiving mean?”

Kellen: “You have a feast.”

Kristie: “Are we having a feast this year?”

Kellen: “Uh-huh”

Kristie: “What are you thankful for?”

Kellen: “Food. Toys. Pets. Money. That’s it.”

………………………………

Kristie: “What can you tell me about the history of Thanksgiving?”

Brayden: “It’s about when you celebrate the people in your family and your friends. It’s when you have a turkey. And you give thanks to other people. And you have a feast with your family.”

Kristie: “What are you thankful for?”

Brayden: “My home. My family. Friends. My dog. My whole family. That’s it.”

…………………………….

Kristie: “What are you thankful for?”

Blaine: “God. Family. Beer. Fishing. In no particular order.”

…………………………………

So that about sums it up, although for the record, Blaine has never worked at an airport. I hope you all enjoy your Thanksgiving holiday as well. Eat a little turkey, watch a little football, and hug your family a little closer for the day.

Take care,
Kristie
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KENDRIE’S PERSPECTIVE:

WORST PART ABOUT HAVING CANCER TODAY:

Having to get my arm stuck with a needle to get blood drawn. Plus, they were slow in the lab and it made me late for school today!

BEST PART ABOUT HAVING CANCER TODAY:

Well, it might not be nice to admit it, but it was nice to go to the immunization clinic after I got my blood drawn and see Mom and Dad and Brayden and Kellen all get flu shots. For once, *I* was not the pincushion!!! I also want to thank Debbie E. for the ultra-cool baseball bracelet, and thank Jennifer C. for sending us cards with our OWN names on the envelopes!

Tuesday, November 09, 2004

HAPPY FALL YA’LL!

(or, let’s discuss some other inane regional colloquialisms)

Week #13 of LTM


I appear to be having an identity crisis.

Wait, let me say that in a way that will be more clear to my friends back home: “Ya’ll, I’m fixin’ to have an identity crisis!”

This is a problem that plagues military families fairly often, I believe. Blaine and I are on our 8th military assignment (11 moves total) in 17 years of marriage. In the military, when people ask “Where are you from?” the question they usually get in return is “Do you mean where is my *home*? Or where were we stationed before here?” -- Because everyone knows those are two totally separate things.

We’re from Oklahoma --- where *is* that, exactly? To the people we met when we were stationed in California, it’s in the east. To the people we met when we were stationed in Alabama, it’s in the west. To the people here in Georgia, Oklahoma is definitely NOT the South, and to the friends we made in Ohio, it’s definitely NOT the North. I say “ya’ll” and “fixin’ to” …. and then I get funny looks in local restaurants here when I ask for “pop”.

When my kids are “ill”, that means they are sick. When Georgia kids are “ill”, that means they are acting like brats. Did you know that when people from the South “carry” someone, that means they are driving them somewhere? And in North Dakota, it’s common to get an invitation to “go with” …. as in, “I’m going to the mall, do you want to go with?” (I never *did* get used to that one … proper grammar, in my opinion, is “I’m fixin’ to go to the mall, do you want to go with me?” Ha!)

For military folk, this is the time of year when NEXT year’s pcs’s (permanent change of stations, for you non-government types) are being announced. In the past few weeks, three of my friends have found out they are moving. All the moves were expected, no big surprise there; it’s the anticipation of *where* that makes it such an exciting and stressful time. Where are you moving, and how different will it be?

But not us. We’re going big fat nowhere. After two years in Georgia, we were slated to move last summer. It’s rare to stay anywhere more than two years, and Blaine had been chosen for a job in Copenhagen, of all places. Up to that point, our personal motto could have been: "Join the Air Force, See the Midwest". Can you imagine Copenhagen??? My geography is pretty terrible, but I’m almost sure that’s not even in the United States!!!

Instead, we got a 26-month pass to Leukemia-Land. The first thing we did, after getting Kendrie started on her treatment and reclaiming our sanity, was to request a one-year extension here in Georgia. We wanted Kendrie to finish as much of her treatment as possible in one location. Luckily for us, a proverbial good-luck break landed right in Blaine’s camo-clad lap and thanks to a new job, he was extended here for TWO additional years. So she’ll get to finish ALL of her treatment with the same doctor -- who we love -- which thrills us to no end. Also, my kids will get FOUR years in the same school system -- military parents everywhere are shaking their heads in awe and disbelief!

It does make me wonder about my kids, though. Brayden, born in Oklahoma, is a Sooner born and a Sooner bred. And when she dies she’ll be Sooner dead. (Hey, I didn’t make that up, it’s the words to the actual song.) Kellen, born in California, the quintessential Beach-Boy surfer dude? Nope, he prefers pools to the ocean. And Kendrie, born in Ohio -- a Buckeye, of all things? After four years in Georgia, aren’t they all a little bit peach-ish?

The down side to staying in Georgia for four years is watching the friends we have made here move on … and move away. Don’t get me wrong, I am thankful beyond belief that we are staying here. Even when the summer ants are invading my home and the gnats from the nearby peach orchards are driving me crazy and the humidity is three thousand percent in July, I am grateful to be here, and to stay at Scottish Rite. But who will be left to invite, when the time comes to plan Kendrie’s off-treatment party? Many of the people who rallied ‘round us in the beginning are no longer here, which makes me a little sad. I'ts a bizarre, unusual feeling to be "left behind" in the military. Of course, it's also a bizarre, unusual feeling to be told your 4-yr old has cancer, so you'd think I'd be getting used to it, wouldn't you? :)

And I wonder if I’m losing my identity as a cancer patient’s mom, now that Kendrie no longer looks sick. She’s gone from the hideous “chemo-falling out hair” to “little bald kid” to “what a cute pixie cut” to “dear Lord lady, can’t you do something with that kid’s hair?”

She woke up this morning with her first official case of bed head!!! (Trust me, it was a cause for celebration as far as I’m concerned!) But people see her, looking good and doing well, and they forget she has cancer. I get asked fairly often, “You mean she’s still on chemotherapy?” Trust me, if a bald head was the only indicator of illness, then both her grandpa’s have WAY more to worry about than she does!

Despite the oddness of four years in one location, we are still a military family. Despite the pink cheeks and healthy appetite and boundless (freakin’ boundless!) energy level, she is still a child with cancer. I still panic when she complains of back pain, like she has done every day this week. She still had to take her eight and a half pills before bed tonight, two hours after dinner and one hour before bed and no milk or dairy for two hours in either direction despite the steroid craving for grilled cheese sandwich that the parent has to deny.

I know the day will come again when our biggest stress factor will be an upcoming move, and the anxiety and excitement of how will we like our new home, and how different things might be. Until then, my message to the state of Georgia is “Thanks, ya’ll, for being a decent place to get stuck for four years!” Even if I am having an identity crisis from being in one place so long.

Hope you all have a great night,

Kristie, who isn’t quite sure where she belongs, but she’s fixin’ to go to bed and quit worrying about it!
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KENDRIE’S PERSPECTIVE:

WORST PART ABOUT HAVING CANCER TODAY:

My back is hurting me. I can’t imagine it’s from my back poke -- that was seven days ago! It’s most likely simple growing pains, and I’m tired of the look of worry on my mom’s face every time I ask for the purple medicine. Can’t she just give me the medicine and leave me alone? She doesn’t have to worry about her place as a military wife; she’s got a full-time job as a worry-wart!

BEST PART ABOUT HAVING CANCER TODAY:

I got an envelope from my cousin Paxton who lives in Texas, with her Pennies for Patients money! It is a donation for the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society, and I think it’s great that she did the work and collected the money and sent it to me. Thanks, Paxton!

Thursday, November 04, 2004

"PUT ME IN, COACH …. I’M READY TO PLAY!"

Week #12 of Long-Term Maintenance Therapy

When Kendrie was three years old, she was obsessed with baseball. Ob. Sessed. She carried around a ball and glove at all times and would practice “catch” with anyone she could trick into standing still for more than two minutes. And she had a rotating supply of baseball movies that were watched on a very regular basis: Angels in the Outfield, The Sandlot, and Rookie of the Year.

Then, when Kendrie turned four, she was diagnosed with leukemia. Before long, ball caps came to signify something not quite as fun as a baseball obsession. And spending all her time at home with mom, or in the van driving back and forth to Atlanta with the portable DVD player, meant those three baseball movies were watched even more. She still asks on a regular basis “How much longer until it’s my turn to play t-ball?”

So on Tuesday of this week, as we left for Atlanta at 6am, the DVD player behind me was playing “The Sandlot” for the 7,824th time. It’s really a cute movie, if you haven’t ever seen it …. and I have every single solitary line memorized at this point. So, I was able to tune it out a little while I was driving and reflect on Kendrie’s obsession with the sport and how, in a few small ways, baseball is like childhood cancer. (Yeah, you saw that one coming a mile away, didn’t you?)

WAYS THAT BASEBALL IS LIKE CHILDHOOD CANCER:

1. There are nine very important members of the team: Kendrie, her parents, her siblings, her oncologist, her nurse, her nurse practitioner, her pharmacist, her child-life specialist, and the guy who makes the breadsticks at Pizza Hut.

2. The support we receive from thousands and thousands (ok, well, maybe it’s only hundreds and hundreds) of people who fill our stadium -- extended family, close-up friends, long-distance friends, and online friends -- cheers us on in an unbelievable way.

3. Some things, like a bald 4-yr old, grown men spitting, and paying $8 bucks for a beer, are just inexplicable and wrong.

4. The treatment for leukemia is like Roseanne Barr’s crotch-grabbing rendition of the Star Spangled Banner --- it was completely obnoxious and went on for way too long, but you just grit your teeth and get through it.

5. Living a life with childhood cancer is a little like playing on a prison baseball team --- the circumstances suck, but at the end of the day, you’re happy to still be out on the field.

6. Some days are pure bliss --- sunshine-on-your-face-eating-a-foot-long-and-peanuts-and-cheering-and-waving-a-big-foam-finger kind of happiness. Other days, like the days we had this past week when we lost three amazing kids: Shelby Prescott, Cheyenne Fiveash, and Connor Hunley .... you just feel like huddling in the dugout, hiding under your umbrella until the rain stops and the sun comes out again. I mean, it *has* to come out again, doesn’t it? Even for their heartbroken families?

7. Finally, you take advantage of friendships with team-mates you never expected to have. For us this past week, that meant meeting for the first time in clinic, Camp Jack, a cutie who is beating neuroblastoma. Jack has had two stem cell transplants and we’ve been following him online, so meeting him in person, completely by coincidence, was fun. Of course, his teen-age girlfriend Cali Ali is probably going to be a little jealous of the time we got to spend with him. She and Jack have a special relationship --- not in an icky, Mary Kay Letourneau kind of way, but a really fun bi-coastal friendship.

After our clinic appointment on Tuesday, we headed next door to the AFLAC Cancer Center at Scottish Rite hospital to stop in, say hi and deliver cookies to Mary Grace and her mom D.D. Mary Grace is undergoing additional chemo for a germ cell tumor on her spine that her doctors are deciding how to treat this week. Chemo; radiation; surgery; there are many options and we are praying for wisdom for her oncologists as they decide which one(s) will give Mary Grace the best opportunity for a complete cure.

And finally, two remaining team-mates we met that evening as we attended the first-ever Camp Sunshine support group meeting for cancer families in the middle-Georgia area. We got to spend more time with Jacob and his family, which was great, and also to meet for the first time another online friend, Jay and his family. We’re very hopeful this meeting was the beginning of long and helpful friendships.

My final baseball analogy involves two of our friends from Illinois who drove down to Georgia to walk with us in The Light the Night Walk last month; 14-yr old Evan and his dad, Gary. Even and Gary are both sports buffs, especially baseball, and a few years back had gone to a game in Cincinnati (I think --- we’ve been stationed at so many military bases with them, maybe I’m mixing up my cities!) Anyway, the two of them had gone to a professional baseball game and had pretty good seats. Good enough that Evan got SMACKED right in the chest by a foul ball. Not to be overly dramatic, but a foul ball hitting you in the heart at 100 mph .. well, that can kill you. It **has** killed people before. So no surprise that they brought in paramedics and stadium representatives, and made Gary sign a release of liability waiver before he was allowed to remove Evan from the stadium. (Gotta love America!)

Luckily, Evan suffered no permanent damage. And I know he still likes baseball. But I wonder if he enjoys the games as much anymore. Is he as relaxed, as happy, rooting for his team and waving his pennant around and wondering nothing more serious than why on earth his shoes are sticking to the floor of the stadium? Or is he a little bit watchful, slightly apprehensive about the next foul ball and where it might be headed and what damage it might cause?

That’s how I feel with Kendrie. Don’t get me wrong --- I’m thrilled to be at the game. But I can’t keep that constant, constant worry out of the back of my head at all times. I guess that's what makes it "constant", right?

Please let the foul balls go straight up in the air and not smack any of us in the chest again.

Take care, and have a great weekend,
Kristie

Ps. For a really great journal entry, that most likely represents how a lot of parents of kids with leukemia feel, check out the Nov 1st journal entry at Katarina's site. At least I know her mom hit the nail on the head for how *I* feel some days.
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KENDRIE’S PERSPECTIVE:

WORST PART ABOUT HAVING CANCER TODAY:

I’m still not quite over the worst part of having cancer on Tuesday. Let’s see, would it be the part where the nurse held me still and jabbed a needle in my chest? Or held me still and jabbed a needle in my spine? Or the five hours in the van? Or maybe, yes, I know, I know, it’s the stinkin’ steroids that are turning me into a raving, crabby, starving, crying lunatic!!!!! (Wait, that last sentence was high-jacked by my Mom!)

BEST PART ABOUT HAVING CANCER TODAY:

Only six more months until my mom signs me up for t-ball! (Hey, I heard somebody around here talking about it!)