The Thankful Season

Bah humbug--I'm a Scrooge! I don't understand how Black Friday shopping got all mixed up with the virgin birth of the father of Christianity. I think a few years of working retail cured me of any former love and fascination with the winter holidays. Or, on second thought, maybe it was the Christmas I scratched my cornea decorating the tree and I had to drive myself to the hospital in the middle of the night but the pain was so bad I had to pull over to throw up--no I am pretty sure it was retail.

I worked at Marshall Fields, in china and gourmet the Christmas I was pregnant with Pierce, a job I did for several years and LOVED until that particular Xmas season. Besides the usual crabby customers and merchandise mix-ups, that year there was the day that I was fully eight months pregnant helping a customer who had purchased pillows. While she was in line in our department she decided she needed a box, but she and her companion also decided they needed to go back and get the matching pillow since it was likely it would be gone if the recipient decided they needed two after the holidays(this was a decorative pillow, so supply was always uncertain). I told her that while I was perfectly willing to get a box, if they were going back over there, it would be easier for all concerned, especially the other ten customers in line, for them to get a box while purchasing the second pillow because I would also have to go all the way over there to find a box that big. Well, this woman looked at me up and down and said "it's probably better that you go get the box since you obviously need the exercise." Mind you, each of my children gave me ten pounds I have never been able to lose so someone might fairly say that to me now, but I was in great shape at that point in my life, but HELLO, I was eight months pregnant and my only concession to getting larger was size 10 clothes versus the 6s I was wearing previously. I was hardly fat, and even if I was, who was she to tell me I needed exercise? Then there was the horrible woman who insisted that I find some obscure piece of holiday china that she had to have right that moment which required me to climb to the very top of the seven foot ladder in the storage room and perch precariously over the shelf, again while eight months pregnant!

This year we are hosting Jay's colleagues at our house for a holiday party. This will not be a big to-do since I know and love all of them, and they know us and our common existence with our very bad dogs and two children, but there has been a lot of work we have needed to finish on our house and my beloved decided we should finish it before the party on Sunday. So, we are painting. We finally removed the blinds Homer destroyed (that's also another story that is worth telling someday, but in summary I personally KNOW someone that was featured on America's Most Wanted--how's that for a teaser?) and painted the window frames that have been hidden for at least 10, but more like 30 years... Oh, and then there is the matter of what used to be the "playroom" that I so lovingly decorated for my babies that Bo now calls his room--that he wanted Tiger Gold. Anyone considering Tiger Gold may want to visit our house before purchasing paint--it is SOME color, that is all I can say.

So between horrible memories of holiday retail, a dog that loves poopsicles, painting--which I HATE, and our Christmas decorations in a half-done state, I am not lovin' the holiday season. But, it is not only the season of rampant commercialization, hyperbolic consumerism and wanton greed, it is also a season of faith, love and thankfulness--that I get. So I wanted to share my top ten list of things for which I am thankful!

1. Pathologists, oncologists, nurses and other health professionals
2. Friends, both known and unknown who hold you up when you need it most
3. Farmers and all the people who perform daily hard labor with little recognition
4. Voters, no matter who they voted for--for keeping the dream alive
5. Teachers and coaches who give their lives to shape the lives of others
6. Emergency service professionals who risk their lives for our safety
7. Dogs, even the ones who eat poopsicles, for making life a little lighter
8. Patrons of the arts who maintain our culture, especially in tough times
9. My Super Suppers colleagues for making it a joy to be a small business owner
10. Jay, Pierce and Bo, for making life worth living, even in the dark hours

I hope everyone takes some time to appreciate what we all have, even when the economy is at its worst, we will still have more than so many and we must never forget the pains it took to achieve. Have a wonderful holiday season, filled with love and laughter, skip the stores, all the stuff is cheaper in January anyway. With love, Lisa

Just When You Think It Can't Get Worse...

Life delivers punches every day. You learn to roll with the little ones, but every now and then you get knocked down. All are well here in mid-MO, despite the fact that a very nice young college student totalled our car yesterday. More on that in a minute, but I can't stop thinking about how a little punch to one person can be a real knock out for another. With the economy the way it is, so many people are one little car accident or brush fire or illness away from financial tragedy. How in the world is our new President and Congress going to fix the mess we've gotten ourselves into?

For those who know Columbia, just after it started to pour yesterday, we were headed to Robotics, driving down Forum, starting to go up the hill, and I thought to myself, I have to be very careful and pay attention to the drivers coming down the hill, and not a second later, I saw headlights coming straight for me. I drove onto the shoulder but resisted driving onto the grass since I was not sure how much room there was to drive safely. Just when I thought I might avoid an accident, I felt the hard crack and saw myself go spinning. I have never been more relieved to hear my kids scream. It meant they were both alive, but I felt a small panic knowing that she hit me right in the gas tank, then remembered I had been driving on empty all day...

So many things for which to be thankful. Thankful no one was hurt, actually somewhat thankful sbe hit us and not a tree, because as fast as she was sliding, she might not have survived, thankful I never stopped to put gas in my car, thankful I never cancelled my collision coverage, and thankful that this little accident won't put me over the edge. But, as a business owner, I have become more cognizant of those who are so close to the edge. There are probably a hundred people I know personally who would be devastated to lose a car. We had the luxury of three, so while my life gets a little more inconvenient, we will survive. And I am more than a little annoyed that that car was worth way more to me than the $2000 or so the insurance company will honor, but I am not going to lose a job or life over that loss.

In this month of thanks giving and the season of giving, take more than a minute to give thanks for everything you have, no matter how meager it seems. Make amends with a loved one and do a good deed. Pay it forward as much as you can since you never know if that knockout punch might be the next one. But also think about giving with meaning. We all need to curb the excessive materialistic tendencies we have nurtured for a decade and know that times are tough and will probably get tougher. Give from the heart and give where it can make the most difference. With lots of love and even more appreciation of life, Lisa

Free (or very cheap) Tickets!

In case you didn't know, Super Suppers is a sponsor of KBIA and the University Concert Series. We love the Concert series and have always been supporters. Donors are treated to a reception before most events, and we cater about three of these a year.

Our sponsored show this year is Sweeney Todd which is this coming Thursday, so we will be catering--Thanksgiving dinner will be the menu, and it should be scrumptious--I haven't fouled one up, yet and we have always gotten rave reviews, but you know, there is a first time for everything and I am not immune to mistakes! But really, I have at least four extra tickets to that show and the reception, plus four tickets to both the MU Choral Union: Gloria Thursday, November 20th, and Nebraska Theatre Caravan: A Christmas Carol, Thursday, December 4. Call or e-mail if you want them! You can have them, or if you are so inclined, you may make a donation to the Cancer Club--our first group is going well, and we hope to add more when we can! Stay warm and dry, Lisa

When is "just a lump" not "just a lump?"

Well when you've had a cancer diagnosis of course! I felt like I had finally gotten over the bizarreness of the summer when Bo started complaining about a lump under his tongue. So, remember the whole thing about his condition, whatever it is, is related to common salivary gland tumors, both malignant and benign. Wanting someone to check it, but not wanting to overreact, I called our dentist. I adore my dentist, but I admit I am still a little annoyed. He immediately referred us to a world-class surgical oncologist and made us spend a good solid weekend worrying. Of course by Monday we went back to the dentist who concluded that it was "just a lump," a common canker sore, to be specific, and it was gone. The lump and swollen node he felt a few days earlier were now hardly discernible. So, we still went to see the specialist on Tuesday who confirmed that everything was just fine.

But, it was not something I was prepared for, or warned about. Apparently, once you've been "marked" you no longer get to have normal ordinary ailments anymore. No doctor wants to make the call that it's "just a lump" or a sore, or anything, without referring to a specialist--CYA, I guess. I get that, and I could have expected it rationally, but I still wish I had the Dummies Guide to Cancer so I could have been properly warned that we, too, should hesistate before having every little lump or bump checked, and be prepared that every wart will be examined by an oncologist. Okay, I know that's an exaggeration, but it was not a fun weekend.

And on that note, our first Cancer Clubs will meet on Monday, October 27th, at 6:30, at Bethel Church. The kids' club will be for kids who have lost a parent to cancer. Our known attendees will be aged 10-14, but kids slightly older or younger are welcome to attend and we will break them up when we have enough members to form two groups. At the same time, the parents of these great kids will meet at a place in the building, or close by, where they too, can process their experiences--maybe the output from all our groups will be the true Dummies Guide to Surviving Cancer. If any of our Columbia friends want more information, feel free to contact me at thecancerclub@aol.com, or 573.268.4766!

Advertising these groups has truly been a rewarding labor of love. I have never felt so lucky to be working. Finding my way around the downtown churches was quite an adventure, but with the exception of one elementary school, people were so thankful and wonderful. I think being a kid is pretty darn hard, period, but being a kid that has to face such a huge loss, to put it bluntly, just sucks, and so if we can help even one kid have an easier time making lemonade out of life's lemons, I will have led a good life! So, back to making my own lemonade out of my crazy business... With love, Lisa

What do YOU do With Your Pain?

So, I have been processing a lot of things lately. I have had the time to step away from the summer and the pain and the fear and just think about what it all means. I have also been reading--yes, I know that scares you all, but reading is therapeutic for me. I have read a lot of books lately, Anne Lamott-Grace (Eventually), Glass Castle, a history of the Mormon church, and a bunch of other stuff, plus talking to people who might benefit or help in the development of our cancer center, and it got me thinking.

We all have pain in our hearts, maybe from childhood--mean kids at school, parents who always seemed to want that little extra, no matter how good you did, maybe it's from a current relationship, personal or business where you give a LOT more than you get, maybe it is children, who, for reasons you may never understand do not have the same relationship with you that you desire. Or, perhaps, you are the one in a million that has never experienced pain. In either case, what do you do with that? If your psyche is a suitcase, and all your "stuff" is packed in there, is it neat and tidy, is it really big and heavy, or do you disguise it with a mental "tablecloth" to make it prettier? Where does your baggage take you?

I have pain. I can admit that. It doesn't matter where it comes from--a large part of it has to do with being a "weird" and ugly kid and I can tell you if you really want to know--but what really matters is what I do with it. So many people carry their suitcase like a weapon, swinging it around and making sure no one gets close. A lot of people use it as a shield, so that no one gets close enough to look inside. Others hide it and pretend they don't have a suitcase, even though other people can feel that you seem to live in a big tent. I am sure I can't tell you what is in the bottom of my suitcase, but I do know that in many ways it sustains me. The fact that I know pain is what allows me to see the pain in others and try my very best to alleviate some of it, with all the power I have. I have learned that I am not very good at making money. But today when a customer told me that when she left last weekend and I told her to "enjoy her guests" and it resonated with her all weekend because, thanks to us, she WAS able to enjoy her guests, that sustains me.

I was raised a Lutheran and the major philosophical difference Martin Luther had with the Catholic Church was the notion that God's love is grace freely given--that we don't have to do lots of stuff to get it--but the corollary is that to whom much is given, much is expected. And I know that whatever pain I have experienced, there are others who have endured much more, and I have been given many gifts that I am obligated to share with others. I have been given health, a tiny bit of wealth (but since the DOW dropped another several hundred points today, it's a lot less than I wish!), a decent amount of intelligence and thanks to what is probably undiagnosed ADHD, a LOT of energy.

What do you do with your pain? Do you wallow in it, hide it, let it make you angry or distant and detached from others? I have done all of the above, sometimes. And sometimes the unproductive things feel good. I have spent the better part of the last day exuding vile rants on my corporate bulletin board because of some ridiculous changes they want to make--yeah, it kind of felt good, but then I tried to counter some of it by posting a few positive things that we have learned lately. It is good to work out that pain in the gym, that is way productive, and I have not done that nearly enough lately.

But the best way to channel pain is into preventing it. How can you use your gifts to improve the lives of everyone around you. If oyu have never read The Fred Factor, that's a good one to try, too. Fred was a mailman who made a difference just by being a mailman. We all have the power to make the world a better place and if we took just one capful of positive energy every day and pour it into the vat of humanity, we can make a great stew. Researching this cancer support center has nourished and energized me in ways I never imagined--then I got a cold, but I am pretty sure that's temporary and I am looking forward to moving onto great things. The weather in mid-MO has been phenomenal lately, I hope everyone is taking advantage, with love, Lisa

The Answer

When you seek your destiny the universe conspires to assist. I believe that and knew that if I waited, the answer would just come. And so I think it has. Columbia, and in fact, the whole world, needs a system of integrated Cancer Centers. A place where people go to get support--whether it is information, financial, or especially emotional. I think when the idea comes to it's true fruition, it will be a physical place, but for now, a network of support groups would be a good place to start.

We had the privilege last week of attending a tailgate and the MU game for Childhood Cancer Awareness Days. It was a small group--it was raining--but it was very comfortable to be in a crowd of people who all "got it." To see kids in the battle, graduates, nurses, doctors, and everyone else all there for the same reason meant we didn't have to talk about it, or explain, but we could just have fun. But the whole time my thoughts were on the family of a friend who has had to contend with the loss of a father to cancer, a sudden death of a grandfather, and the loss of a pigeon and a dog, all in a span of about two months.

The one thought that kept resonating in my head, though was that Bonnie's beautiful daughter made her go get a mammogram because she did not want to lose two parents to cancer. How powerful is that? How scary is it for anyone to know that they could lose everyone to the same dreaded cause? It's possible, but we don't think that way. We could have lost a son this summer to cancer, not something I ever thought of even on my most dreary day. Car accident, freak baseball or pool accident, even choking, but not cancer at the age of ten. But kids who lose someone to cancer might fear it forever, and people shouldn't have to live in fear.

So we have to take the power away. Cancer is fast becoming more chronic in many of it's forms. There have been great advances in breast cancer, certain kinds of melanoma, leukemia, etc. Not enough, I would never argue that, but CANCER doesn't have to carry the same power it did even ten years ago. But when I started thinking about it, about all the people who told me their stories and told me that my blog is therapeutic--I thought, how is it that there isn't an organized network of support for all the people touched by cancer? By doing that, and sharing the wealth of information and giving people a place to go, first virtual, then hopefully real physical places, everywhere, like Ronald McDonald Houses for cancer, we can take the negative energy associated with cancer and turn it into a positive force of hope.

That's the plan, feedback is good, volunteers are great, and a NAME would be wonderful. My first thought that grew out of thinking about Bonnie's daughter was that people who take this journey need to know that they will NEVER BE ALONE, but there are lot's of organizations with names like that. I also thought about hope and that if we want to have support groups for kids, and we want people to think good thoughts about this place, it needs to have a more inspirational name. I thought about Hope House, Hope's Place, but those names are also overused. My current thinking is that in the spirit of The Vagina Monologues, we should just call it The Cancer Club because that's what it is and it begins the process of stealing the power. It may be a Club no one ever wanted to join, but the reality is that we are all already members--by virtue of being touched by the condition, you could benefit from the service we might offer.

But anyway, I am so incredibly busy, the store is busy and everything in our house seems to be breaking at the same time, so I am spending a lot of time at Lowe's. Plus, school year activities are in full swing--orchestra, Robotics, a new competitive basketball team for Bo, confirmation for Pierce, all has me drowning in paper and events! I need to make many more posts, but I wanted to put that thought out to get some feedback, and to help us with our first goal.

If anyone in the Columbia area knows any kids (perhaps, 8-12 or 13) who have recently lost a parent to cancer who might be interested in getting together with other kids in a similar situation for support, and even some fun, let me know ASAP. You can e-mail me at lwscribner, or call--I am at the store most of the time, 573.446.1823. We have trained psychologists and social workers that have agreed to help us, and we hope to expand to offer more groups, so if you have thoughts on that, let me know that as well. That's all for now, but we are really excited about this project and hope you are, too! With love, Lisa

What Now?

People have told me that they like my blog, that I am a good writer and I have helped and inspired them. That's incredibly humbling, really. I have always been a decent writer, but most of my writing has been limited to dot point summaries, memos and policy briefs--if you want to read any of them, let me know, I have a few grant applications of which I am particularly proud--a definite cure for insomnia! But everything I have ever had the privilege to write, I have written for other people. While this blog is the most selfish endeavor I have ever taken on, I have written it mostly for the people I love, to say things I could never express in real spoken words. Why is that? I never really knew until I finished The Shack, by William P. Young. So as in my last post, consider this excerpt:

[Law] grants you the power to judge others and feel superior to them. You believe you are living to a higher standard than those you judge. Enforcing rules, especially in its more subtle expressions like responsibility and expectation, is a vain attempt to create certainty out of uncertainty… Rules cannot bring freedom; they only have the power to accuse…Responsibilities and expectations are the basis of guilt and shame and judgment, and they provide the essential framework that promotes performance as the basis for identity and value. You know what it is like not to live up to someone’s expectations… The idea behind expectations requires that someone does not know the future or outcome and is trying to control behavior to get the desired result. Humans try to control behavior largely through expectations.

What a powerful statement that is and when you think about it, and how liberating is it to think that if we all live honestly, we might be able to live without rules? Not sports, or traffic, or contract law, we have to start with the basics--the rules that govern our relationships and expectations for each other. Tracy commented here that she could never write like I do, but why not? I think we all have the ability to write when we have something to say. When the life of someone you love more than life itself is at stake, and your heart breaks in a way that makes you immune to shame and ridicule and you can just let your heart speak in a way your head can't or won't, I think we all can write. Because then, we can forget the rules, forget bad grammar and spelling and punctuation. When it's life and death, it's not about being proper anymore, it's about being, just being.

If we could all live believing that we all have the best intentions for everyone, Tracy could write what she needs to without feeling judgment by herself or anyone else. And if we get really good at it, we could even speak that way. Why is it that we tend to appreciate eachother most at the end--the end of a job, the end of a vacation, the end of a life? Pastor Paul was preaching Romans 12 this month, my favorite chapter. In it we learn that we have all been given unique gifts but that together, we form humanity, not one of us alone, or even a few, it takes ALL the gifts, but what are our gifts and how are we supposed to use them? I always tell customers at the store that we are here to take care of food so that they can take care of all the things that are really important to them and that there is no guilt in needing help since we all can't be good at everything.

So, I have struggled with this blog. Should, I keep writing? I love thinking that I can do something that helps someone, but I am really not a writer, and so having fulfilled my selfish purpose, should I stop? I only wish I was someone like Stephen King who has stories that just tumble out of his head. My new favorite is Anne Lamott, and of course who can forget JK Rowling? Then there are the historical greats, Emerson, Whitman, Blake, Dumas, and the playwrights, too. Great writers are amazing people, and I am not one of them, to be sure.

So, lacking sories to tell, hopefully lacking any news on Bo's health, I need a new reason to write. I don't presume anyone will stay and read, but I will write until we figure out where this journey is supposed to end. I will write about my struggle to make something out of the gifts I have been given, and hopefully in writing, I will find others who can help make sense of all our paths, where our collective gifts can come together to make great things happen! But, now that I am not writing out of desperation, I feel myself reverting to judgment and expectation. I am not a great writer, or even a good one and I don't have anything to say. I keep writing and editing and editing and deleting... So for now, I will stop and just publish my random musings. I think in my next post I will tell you about the book I have wanted to write since starting a business! Have a great week, Lisa

I Forgot About The Party!

So, I never gave anyone an update on Bo's Strike Out Cancer Party. First, I'll do that, then I will tell you why. The party was awesome. I think Bo had a great time. All his best buds, new and old came out to have fun with him. I think we had about 80 or so people there for at least part of the time. About half bowled, but I think EVERYONE ate cake and loved it! A friend gave Bo the best card ever, on the front was a VERY FAT orange striped cat, and on the inside it said "Do you think they'll notice the cake is gone." At one point we had seven lanes going, and we are so glad that so many people came out to be with us. The staff at AMF was terrific, brought us lots of soda and popcorn and we fed them cake, too. It was a great day, but for a few things...

One of our new friends, Bonnie--her kids are the same age as ours, same classes as our kids at school last year--lost her husband to cancer in the week before our party. We were so glad to have them there, but the reality of her loss and seeing her in all her beauty and bravery, but also seeing the sadness in Judson and Sophia was more than a little heart breaking. Jay and I both still sometimes get overwhelmed when we think that we dodged a bullet by a hair and feel very deeply for those who don't.

Also, in the preparations for the party, we were trying to get all our thank you notes done. That exercise has been the hardest part of this whole journey, surprisingly. We knew we might see people at the party whose addresses we never managed to save in a reliable place, and there were a few we wanted to hand deliver. But in order to do that, we had to go back through all the things we did keep, try to organize them. Also, actually read many of the for the first time. And I don't mean that like it sounds. We read every card and e-mail, listened to every phone message when they arrived, but I think a lot of them got lost in the fog. A lot of them I only remembered after reading them the second time, but with that second reading, I also remembered the day they came and the feeling I had the first time.

The cascade of emotion that has accompanied writing thank you notes has been very difficult. It has been sad, but it is also just so overwhelming to process that much love and fear and hope and strength all at one time. It is also so overwhelming when you realize there is just no way to thank people. Even just trying to list everyone is difficult--I feel like I should thank the nice woman at the hospital registration desk who checked us in so many days at 6:00 in the morning with a cheerful smile and an encouraging word. But, unfortunately my handwriting is bad on a good day and the first 50 recipients may be lucky enough to read theirs, the next 100 will be questionable, and at some point the returns are diminished enough to make the effort worthless!

So these last few weeks have in some ways been harder than the first few. In the thick of things we were fighting for a purpose. Every minute, every breath was spentin trying to get the best diagnosis and treatment for Bo. But now, what is our purpose? Hence my voracious reading of books like The Shack, Grace (Eventually), and others too many to name. I keep looking for a purpose. Somehow the universe has given us a gift, the Runs for Bo Fund, especially is meant to serve us in a larger way. We have given all our lives and now it was our turn to receive, and we hope to do so gracefully, acknowledge those gifts the best we can, but keep the cycle going--and in that we will find peace with our experience.

But the party was awesome, something we will repeat again sometime. It is great to have an open party and just see who comes. The expectancy of it all was great. Parties too often get caught up in the rules and expectations of friendship and manners and all that unfun stuff, so this was a welcome diversion, just fun after a not-so-fun summer! Thanks to everyone who came out to help Bo celebrate his burthday and end-of-therapy and thanks to all those who couldn't come but thought about us, anyway! With love, Lisa

Love is Like Oxygen, but Delivered like Luggage

KSAs. Every year, you have an employee review and at some time, someone mentions them—knowledge, skills and abilities. Your boss tells you what you have, what you need, and what you better work on pretty darn quick or you’ll never make it to the “next level.” Every job requires different KSAs and we all have a different set of them. Some we are just born with, some we learn and some we build, often painfully. As I write during the Beijing Olympics, we can admit that there are a lot of people that know the sport of swimming, but few will ever be a Dara Torres, or a Michael Phelps.

And so it goes with love. Love is a skill. When given it is a beautiful gift and given freely, an act of profound grace, but most of all it is a skill. Everyone is born with an ability to love, no matter how wretched a human society creates, somewhere there is a heart of love. But unnurtured, it is a skill never acquired, or stamped out like unwanted embers that can cause too much damage. Therefore, people differ in their ability to love. It's like writing. There are people who are gifted storytellers and so there are people whose ability to love transcends art. People whose love fills a room and lights a night, people who love people and things without restraint. In other words, people who are truly gifted. But there are also brilliant technical writers—they are horribly unappreciated, because their gift is so precise and esoteric, appreciated by few, but necessary to many. And so there are people who love in the same way. People who care so deeply about society, or dogs, plants, or orphans, that they will dedicate their entire lives, fortunes and beings to improving the lot of the world. But most people are somewhere in the middle and most struggle in at least some aspects of it.

I started writing this several weeks ago, but couldn't figure out a way to get to the point. In the interim, I read The Shack, by William P. Young and as one of those Beautiful People, he made it all so clear to me. I started this post after hearing a very painful story from a cancer survivor who shared how she sometimes felt alone on her journey because others were uncomfortable and though they all meant well, all the trappings of manners and proper behavior and formality made her feel isolated. And what we need, all of us, is love, pure acceptance, especially when we are hurt, phsically, emotionally, or spiritually. And yet it's so hard because to truly open your heart to another opens yourself to risk--to hurt and disappointment. Consider this exceprt from The Shack:

Humans…have a knack for taking a verb that is alive and full of grace and turning it into a dead noun that reeks of rules: something growing and alive dies… If you and I are friends, there is an expectancy that exists within our relationship. When we see each other or are apart, there is an expectancy of being together, of laughing and talking. That expectancy has no concrete definition; it is alive and dynamic and everything that emerges from our being together is a unique gift shared by no one else. But what happens when I change that “expectancy” to an “expectation”—spoken or unspoken? Suddenly, law has entered into our relationship. You are now expected to perform in a way that meets my expectations. Our living friendship rapidly deteriorates into a dead thing with rules and requirements. It is no longer about you and me, but about what friends are supposed to do, or the responsibilities of a good friend.

And so, I endeavor from this day forth to try to live with expectancy and not expectations in all my personal relationships. I endeavor to assume that we all have good intentions for one another, but we are clumsy and unskilled in the ways of love and acceptance. Imagine how much better the world could be if we could all open our hearts and minds to the love of others! Don't treat love like they do our luggage on the trams and conveyor belts, treat all your relationships as if they provide the oxygen that sustains you, because in the end, they do! With love and acceptance, Lisa

STRIKE OUT CANCER!

When our family has an occasion, we don't just have cake, we have Stacey Cake! For a while Stacey had to like get a job and take care of her family or something (really?) and she stopped making cakes! So, the Scribners stopped having parties because parties are not parties without Stacey Cake. I can't begin to describe to you the experience, I don't even like cake, but I LOVE Stacey Cake. I think Stacey's congregation is still scratching their heads about the time Stacey proclaimed loudly in the packed Christmas Eve service that she just loves that my husband starts salivating every time he sees her! She was talking about the cakes--I think, but who would know! She says she has a defective filter, I say without defective filters, what would we all have to laugh at? Anyway, we also have a hard time with parties because our boys have unfortunate birthdays. Bo's falls during the one week every year that Columbia (usually, including him) goes on vacation and Pierce's is in January right after break.

But Stacey is back in business, and Bo's tenth birthday was last Thursday--he was at the Little League game in Indianapolis, so it wasn't a bad day, but he didn't have a party or anything. So, next weekend, Sunday August 24th, we want to invite EVERYONE to come out to Town & Country Lanes on Providence to have Stacey Cake and maybe bowl a few with Bo. We have reserved 4 lanes, but if you want to bowl, let us know and we will reserve more. We could never have made it through the last couple months without all the support--every single letter, phone call, prayer and positive thought that was delivered when we needed it most. So this is one small thing we can do to say thanks! Especially if we don't know you, come out so we can meet you and say thanks in person. I can't begin to tell you how much I have come to appreciate some of the people who have sent e-mails or stopped into the store to give me positive energy. And to be honest, though there are a lot of people who tell you horror stories of energy suckers and people who say the most inappropriate things, Columbia gave us NONE of those. This is a birthday party, but the only gift we want is your presence. Bo has more material stuff than any boy should really have and we have no more space for anything, and without a safe place, the dogs will eat it. The best gift he and the rest of us can have is to know how many people are in his corner and to be able to say thanks in person!

So remember:
Bo's STRIKE OUT CANCER! Party
Town & Country Lanes
1508 North Providence Road
Sunday, August 24th, 2:00-4:00

RSVP if you want us to reserve lanes, otherwise, just come so we can say thanks! With love, Lisa

Life Expectancy

We are still struggling with the finality of waiting. Our last doctor visit was on Friday. The head and neck specialist cleared us from any worry about a possible primary salivary tumor, and Tuesday we had our end-of-therapy visit in the oncology clinic. So now, once a month until they take it out, we have to visit for maintenance of the port we do not seem to need. They will also do scans and blood work quarterly for a couple years, then with less frequency after that, but at least annually for the rest of his life. Not so bad, but why does it FEEL so bad? Why do we seek closure when in life there is never closure? and what is closure? When do you know you are done?

When I was preparing for surgery, our neighbor--I've spoken about them before, that would be Kerry, the babysitter who raised my kids, Steve and Nancy, the parents and Kevin, ever-present role model for my boys and the one who all his life so patiently tolerated playing basketball with my little Bo--Steve gave me the book Life Expectancy (Dean Koontz) to read during surgery. Could he have known that this story might frame the rest of my life?

If you haven't read it, on the day he is born, Jimmy Tock's grandfather predicts that he will have to endure five terrible days. As the first one nears, his family strategizes how best to protect him. Should all be with him, should they lock him in the house alone? Ultimately he chooses to go about his day as normally as possible since he reasons, if he is to have five terrible days, he must survive at least the first four. The day is terrible but he also meets the woman he marries. So was it terrible, or just inconvenient? The other days come and go, and they are all terrible, but all-in-all he has a great life.

The only certainty any of us have is that one day we will all die. Sorry if that's morbid, but gosh this whole blog is pretty drab! If you were told that you would die in a plane crash, would you choose never to travel? If you knew that one of your children would have to endure cancer, would you choose not to have any? If life were like a game show, would you take the so-so outcome, or keep playing for the chance to win a million? We have to choose to go for it, ultimately, there is no choice. We can't hole up in our houses and wait to die, life is a gift and we have to accept it--even the terrible days.

So at some point soon, I think we will accept waiting and we will put out of our minds that something terrible might happen, but I am pretty sure it will be at least a year from now. The uncertainty of the metastasis is still such a huge dark cloud that no one knows how to process. One of our consulting oncologists finally said the other day that "naming it at this point is academic" but it is clearly malignant with an ability to spread. We will discuss the possibility of a second-look with our surgeon and hope that we have a great year with no new findings.

Expect life, every day, and accept life in all it's wonder and magic--it's all we get, but an amazing gift if you use it to its fullest! Have a great weekend, Lisa

Membership has Its Privileges

Needles freak me out. It still amazes me that I do my own weekly allergy shots, though it amazes my family even more that I can spend more than 30 seconds inserting each needle... I am a huge advocate of natural childbirth and the Bradley Method, not because I am an idealistic and informed parent, but because I am a certified wimp. Stick a needle in my spine, or tough it out, the choice is obvious to me! We had our Bradley class reunion when our kids were a couple months old. Pierce was an award winning projectile spitter, and not even close to sleeping through the night, so I had no great observations or experiences to share, I could barely remember how I got to the meeting. But one of the Dads remarked that having a child was amazing to him because he received automatic free admission to a club he never even knew existed--the Dad's Club. He was right, the Mom's Club is just as rewarding. Then, I started a business and I learned what it means to receive a Gold Membership to the owners' club.

And now, though I am not one of the lucky ones that has been chosen to take on cancer myself, as a parent of a childhood cancer recipient, I get to belong to the Cancer Club. You can look down on it and be sad for all it's members, but I am so privileged to have come to know all the members and hear all their stories. And it doesn't stop at cancer. People who have cystic fibrosis and even mental illness or fibromyalgia all belong to the same club--the one that no one really wants to join. One of the benefits of membership is getting to know people at a level you were never privileged to reach before.

Sharing a journey through fear and sickness, uncertainty, unwavering faith and bottomless doubt molds and changes you in ways you never expected and opens you to insights and relationships you never imagined. One of my customers today shared a brief part of her cancer journey and reinforced one of the reasons I write--to give voice to the majority of members who are unable to share their perspectives for countless reasons, but whose stories deserve to be recognized. She also shared a part of her daughter's battle with situational depression and how it has changed her life, all for the better, in my mind. It is true that what doesn't kill us makes us stronger, if we are smart enough and brave enough to embrace it and learn from it.

This is a rambling post, but what I wanted to say was thanks to all the people who have enriched our lives with their knowledge and experience and who have been brave enough to blaze the trail before us. We appreciate the soldiers who fight for our freedom, and our ancestors who gave us life, we should also remember, every day, the medical pioneers who endure tests and treatments and unimaginable agony so that they can continue to enrich our lives in every capacity from teachers to nurses, realtors to electricians, salesmen to engineers and scientists. There are so many members of the cancer and other medical maladies club that we owe a great deal of thanks, so this post is for them, thanks for being strong! With love and respect, Lisa

Gentle Giants

Sports confound me. I am not an athlete and I don't really "get" sports and physical competition--give me math team and physics olympics any day, but I just don't understand fan behavior and mentality... However, since I live in a sports town with three boys, I have learned to appreciate them as best I can. While I will never understand the offsides rule, the strategy behind a good batting lineup, or instantly recognize a zone defense, I have definitely come to appreciate the human side of sports.

In large part, thanks to Tommie, I have especially come to appreciate the dedication it takes to be an athlete at the collegiate level. I admit I was one of those people that thought "seriously, athletes have tutors, and that is fair why?" And of course you get the occasional Ricky Clemons who completed, what was it, 40 credits in one summer and bragged that he NEVER read a book in his life (Fortunately our new basketball coach would never stand for such nonsense!)... But Tommie taught me how much REAL athletes, who are dedicated to their sport, sacrifice. They spend hours on the road, missing class and homework time, to travel to events. They practice, often four or more hours a day, have team meetings and doctor and rehab appointments to fix ailments that would render most of us bedridden, and do their own fair share of recruiting and community service work on behalf of the university. They need tutors like most of us need help with laundry or cleaning or maintaining our cars. There just isn't enough time in a day to get it all done.

And we were recently the beneficiaries of some of that community service. Thanks to Gary Pinkel and the strength coaches, Bo was able to attend a training session for the MU football team. I stayed home with Pierce who would rather sleep late than do just about anything, but Bo had such an awesome time, I wish I could have been there. He was able to witness at least one athlete accomplish a new personal best, received posters with autographs of most of the team, and have what amounts to one of the best days of his life. Follow that up with a day at the field with the 11-12 Daniel Boone All Stars that adopted him, and he was in y chromosome heaven.

So, while I will never know a Hail Mary pass or an end-run when I see one, I appreciate Coaches Pinkel and Ivie and all the others like them who bring honor and dignity to their sports and help grow wise and honorable young men who will shine even more brightly off the field as they ever do on it. And, I appreciate the student athletes who work harder than most of us can ever really know to be the best that they can be in heart, mind and body. Life is full of heroes, gentle giants and brazen children who enrich our lives every day and we appreciate each and every one of you for all you give to those who seek hope. Thanks a million, Lisa

The Beginning, the End, THEN the Middle

Back in the day when I worked a real job and went to see those motivational speakers organizations always enlist to help "energize" the troops, I saw a woman speaker who carried around two pictures of her son. She would talk about how if only you could know the end, it would make the middle so much easier. The first photo showed a boy with a guitar and a complete 70's, early 80's punk outfit, black clothes, zippers, chains, makeup, piercings and everything. The "now" photo showed a proud man in a military officer uniform. I always read the first couple chapters of a book, then the last--my justification is so that I know what to read for and I can see if the author makes any mistakes. Of course they really don't, that's what editors are for, but I just have to know.

Tonight, I really f$%^ed up. Excuse the profanity, but when it's big, it's just big and Stephen King says you are supposed to write like normal people would speak and I didn't just "make a mistake." I was excited to escape and read a piece of fluffy teen lit--The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants--so I suspended "the rule" and just read from beginning to end and now I can't sleep. WHY DID NO ONE TELL ME THAT A 12-YEAR-OLD GIRL DIES OF LEUKEMIA? Sorry if that just spoiled it for anyone, but I think it's best to be prepared for things like that! Like I was told the movie It's a Beautiful Life was a wonderful love story. THE MAIN CHARACTERS ALL DIE IN CONCENTRATION CAMPS--not a great love story. Pay it Forward is not a heartwarming story about helping your neighbors--it's about a KID WHO DIES! Things like that are just plain sad and to a person in a fragile emotional state, they can be downright devastating--you can not spoil a sad ending, people need to be prepared. Why do they feel it is important to warn people there is sex or violence, drug use, or profanity? Profanity, really, who needs to be warned about profanity--how can a person be more offended by a few f-bombs than the sad and random expiration of a precious life?

So now, two nights in a row I am up in the middle of the night. Before this journey began, I could probably count on my fingers the numbers of times I have faced insomnia, but lately I spend a lot of time awake in the quiet time. While we still have no written report, we did get a phone call tonight that the doctors at MSK are not recommending any additional treatment at this time. They recommend we watch and wait, then treat any potential recurrence. So, here we are stuck in the middle and that terribly uncertain sentence feels like the worst punishment of all. Give me stress and deadlines and crises and I can function, even thrive if it's work related. Give me someone else's tragedy or pain and I can make the best of it and help them through, but stick ME in the middle of something scary and I don't even know what to do. Of course I never knew that about myself before, but now I do, I just plain suck at it. How can you feel angry and scared and helpless and frustrated, depressed and manic all at the same time and not explode? Well, apparently, I can't, so I read the Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants and cried, and cried and cried, without really knowing why.

I cried for all the brave little people like Bailey and Bo who face death with no fear. Bo told Jay that he isn't afraid to die, but he doesn't want to die with tubes in him. I cried in relief that at least right now, Bo won't have to face chemo. I cried in fear that by not treating him, there is cancer roaming around in his little body searching for the next best places to relocate--his kidneys, his brain, his spinal cord? I cried in frustration that maybe we STILL don't have the right answer and we should look harder. I cried in anger that we spend more money building technology to blow stuff up than we do trying to save and build people. I cried in helplessness because no matter how much I cry, there is nothing else I can do to write his ending the way I WANT IT, and that no matter how happy, ordinary or painful it is, we have to read the whole book, no skipping ahead. So after I write this, I will go to sleep and I will wake tomorrow and start living our new life. And we will not live in in the shadow of cancer. Since we can't know the ending, we will enjoy it, like a good book, savor and love every minute of it, and take in all the good stuff, so the sadness pales in comparison to the happiness. Sleep well, always sleep well, so you can take full advantage of every day.

Tommie Lee, Tommie Lee, if I jumped that high, I would...

End the RHYME any which way you want, but that was the cheer my guys wrote for Tommie, my college student who is leaving me today. I'm still a bit teary. Tommie is a girl by the way, in Texas they can name girls that and no one thinks it's odd. Everywhere else, people think she is of the masculine persuasion, but that's okay, it probably opens more doors than it closes, especially since she is an athlete--a pole vaulter, hence the cheer.

Super Suppers opened on Valentine's Day, 2006. By the time May rolled around, I was tired--I won't even elaborate, but there must be a poet somewhere who could come up with a brilliant metaphor for the depths of weary that come with starting a business. I was sitting at my desk when a cute coed opened the door. I thought, "what could she possibly want to sell or have me donate to, I have already chased away 10 other people today and given all the money or food I can spare." I also thought I might just lock the door, curl up in the corner and cry or take a nap. But she smiled and said "Hi, my name is Tommie Lee and I worked at Super Suppers in high school and I was just wondering if you might need some help." Well, if I hadn't doubted my ability to bend over and get back up, I would have bowed down at her feet. I think she started that day, and besides the parmesan debacle, she has never done anything to cause me a minute of stress. She watches my store, my kids, my dogs and my house. She has not managed to teach Pierce his math facts, but I can't seem to teach him much either, he only learns what he wants, did I ever mention that he takes after me? Despite that, she will be a marvelous math teacher at her student teaching assignment in Kansas City.

Tommie is just my latest example of how things just work out. I always tell Jay that I never make decisions, as Paolo Coehlo says in my favorite book, The Alchemist, and to paraphrase my favorite writer, Ralph Waldo Emerson who said it first--when you seek your destiny, the universe conspires to help. Jay finds it frustrating that sometimes I don't even like to talk about making decisions because I think it's pointless. When something is supposed to happen, and when the need is greatest, things just happen, regardless of how much you plan or strategize. I have never yielded a great employee from an ad--I don't know why I still place--they always just appear.

And so we are still waiting and I am feeling a little desperate, but even Tommie is gone now. It has been two weeks since we sent out the material for a treatment recommendation and we still have not heard. I hope it's for good reason and the time invested by the doctors at Sloan Kettering will yield a recommendation without doubts. Or maybe, for some other reason we are supposed to be using this time for something valuable--but that's hard when the worry leaves you sleepless.

But it never ends, does it, losing sleep over your kids? Tommie's parents are here helping her move, then they will go back to Texas and no doubt lose a few winks of sleep thinking about their little girl in a new place with a new job and new friends, hoping she is happy and healthy. My hope is that I get to raise boys that will someday be loved and appreciated as much as I have loved and appreciated Tommie--that is success. Not money or possessions, but living a life and growing lives that enrich the lives of others. So far, so good, and hopefully this experience is only one part of Bo's contribution to humanity. Thanks to all the great parents out there, Lisa

There's a Conspiracy Afoot

Some days are just great. I had one yesterday. Nothing particularly splendid happened. I had a good day at the store--it's our slow time, but I had a few great customers come in. I don't get as many "virgins" anymore, but I had two yesterday--people who are so very excited to have found us and sense that we could be positively life altering. Then I went to Girl Talk's Night Out. All my Columbia women friends need to check out gotogirltalk.com and come to the next event, but I might not be there--it's at Starbucks and I avoid coffee. Last night it was at Boone Tavern, downtown, and as I was driving past the police station, the horn in my car started going off while a nice police man was crossing the street. I can't make it stop, something about the wiring being off--I drive a 1993 Saturn that I adore, but the key is stuck in the ignition, the engine AND brake light are on, and now sometimes the horn just goes off inexplicably.

But it made me laugh, and to be honest, I haven't really laughed in a while. The last time I really laughed was when Bo was waiting to go into surgery and he was just on a tear. I wish everyone could know how funny he is--sometimes it scares me that his two best career options at this point seem to be baseball and comedy. Besides his ability to "strike a pose" or dance at the oddest times, he can quote inappropriate movies like the guy he is. So as we wait for an hour and a half in pre-op--a medical lesson learned, the earliest surgeries are scheduled at 7:00 at our hospital and they tell ALL the 7:00 patients to arrive at 5:30, but they can't actually check everyone in at the same time, so it's best to arrive a little late-- since we were the first ones checked in that day, Bo asks "so when they take out the tumor, are they going to cut me open, take it out, then sew me back up?" And then before I even get a chance to process, he starts laughing and says "well of course they have to sew me back up, or it will be like the knight on Monty Python and I'll be spurting blood and saying get back here you sissy..." What could I do but laugh, and as I bent my head to laugh, Bo says "Mom, you have white hair, you need to get your hair colored, no one is going to believe you're 31 if you have white hair..." Thanks Bo, I think to myself, but I am still laughing about the bloody knight that I don't know what to think, but he doesn't stop. He looks up on the wall and sees an ad for the satisfaction survey and asks "hey, did we get a survey, because you didn't give me a survey, and I could tell them stuff to improve things around here, because last time it took them 45 minutes to bring me my mac'n'cheese and it was cold Easy Mac!" Now I am afraid the doctors are going to think I have gotten a hold of some nitrous, and I might wet my pants, but he doesn't stop. Our surgeon comes in and I had told Bo that he was in my store during one of our Village Festivals the weekend before, so Bo says "hey, you were in my Mom's store over the weekend, have you been to my Mom's store, because you should..." The poor guy didn't know what to say, but he's a nice man so he just smiled and got onto his business.

But, I also laughed to myself while I was at Boone Tavern because I ran into Bo's first crush! Rachel is legend in our house because she used to work at Target AND Schnuck's, our grocery store. When the boys were little odds were that on any given day, I would have to go one or the other, sometimes both and sometimes more than once, so Rachel was like family. This would be eight years ago when she was a college student, but then she was gone for a while and now she is back, a counselor at Bo's high school! But, when he was a baby, he always just lit up when he saw her, and one day we were checking out at Target and while I was unloading the cart, harried and in a bad mood, I heard him cough, and thought, "gosh, please don't tell me he is getting sick," and keep unloading, but I hear another cough. The third time I looked up and I realized that every time he coughed, she would smile at him and he would giggle. He was FLIRTING at the tender age of ONE! She is a beauty, so I can't blame him, but I told her the story at Boone Tavern and she said I made her day.

I also finished a great book. I haven't read any escapist fiction in over a month either. Final Theory by Mark Alpert is great, part of it takes place at Carnegie Mellon, a fictionalized version, all the building names are wrong, but still fun, and a perfect combination of nerdy science and intrigue. But, it made me have weird dreams, and it's raining AGAIN, and Pierce has a toothbrush that won't turn off, so it kept waking me up, and that is why I am blogging about nothing at 3:00am. The universe is conspiring to keep me awake, why I wonder?

I also talked about Bo and our situation at Girl Talk last night, something I really also haven't done yet. I talked to Kathy who knows the story, and has been immensely helpful and always knows just what I need to talk about to feel better. Yesterday she shared that someone close to her has also just been diagnosed with cancer and it was good to feel for someone else and be in a position to offer help, and not be on the receiving end! I a talked to Sharon whose husband is one of my landlords, but I am not really sure how their business arrangement works, I just know that when the weird alarm goes off and Roy is out of town, I call Don and say "If you don't make it stop, I might have to jump off your building!" Sharon has ever so graciously given me space NOT to talk about it, but I always knew she would listen if I ever needed it, and then I unloaded on some poor woman who used to be a social worker at Missouri Cancer Associates, a private treatment group in town (but they only treat adults). Our social worker at the hospital came by on the day we received Bo's PPB diagnosis, told us she was there to help and said "here's your application for the Make a Wish Foundation." Seriously, normal healthy people think that Make A Wish is where terminal kids go to get their last wish, as far as I was concerned we were not given a terminal diagnosis, but that was the night I started the blog, I wasn't sure about anything anymore. Poor Bo cried when she left and asked Jay and I separately if he was going to die and if his condition was life threatening. So much for the help! I had to get on the internet to find out that you don't actually have to be terminal to have a wish granted, but really should I have had to do that? And don't even get me started about the Child Life Specialists who are young enough to be my kids, even at 31, who are also there to help... I wanted to scream "where is the freaking handbook?" Don't you get an "owner's guide" or an insruction manual when you get a cancer diagnosis? And then I thought, maybe that is why I will start a blog, and I will collect all those little things and put them in a booklet that can be given free to anyone who gets a terrible medical diagnosis. It will be filled with all kinds of tips, resources, and even things to make them laugh, because laughter IS the best medicine.

And so I have rambled on about nothing for quite long enough, I think, my dogs are getting on my nerves--I am not going to throw balls at 4:00am, but before I go, if you have not yet seen The Last Lecture, you should, you can still find it on YouTube, I think, but when you put life and everything in perspective, it all becomes more enjoyable and more precious. Maybe the conspiracy was really trying to get me to clean my house, but I dodged that bullet pretty well! Have a good day, Lisa

All I Want for Christmas is My Two Front Teeth

It took me about the whole of first grade for my two front teeth to grow in and they made me go to SPEECH THERAPY for it. Every day I would count out a cup of beans--sixty one, sixty two... Seriously, I was never going to get any better at it until I grew teeth and the whole experience was just horrid. "Try harder, Lisa, you can do it." Do what, grow teeth, what if they had never come in. What if my parents had to buy those two front teeth. Unfortunately, I've had to have several crowns--they cost somewhere in the vicinity of $600, so how much would it cost to implant two teeth. We had a joke last year that Pierce was getting braces for his birthday--he really did, the very day after his 11th birthday, he received a lovely palate expander. He was not as appreciative as the $5000 price tag would lead you to expect... But no, we have never really given our kids medical services as a gift, but what if we had to. What if paying for medical services had to come as a tradeoff for something else?

I have seen averages for breast cancer treatment of $250,000-$500,000--here in Columbia that would buy a nice house. Childhood cancer, two years of leukemia treatments can easily run over a million dollars. Bo's bills right now even without surgery are close to $50,000--but we have great insurance, and except for our out-of-system consults, we will probably not have to pay more than about $500. But even that fact still changes our life forever. Either Jay or I will need to be tied to a group health insurance plan forever. Under most other plans his condition would be considered pre-existing, and as a childhood cancer patient, that means a lot of insurance companies would consider any cancer pre-existing for the rest of his life. Since he will probably have at least one recurrence, without group coverage, we would have to pay the next surgeries. Jay loves his job and has never really considered another field, and I have longed to go back to government for a long time, so we are just wired for stable group health insurance jobs.

But what about the people who aren't? I depend on my auto mechanic, my plumber, electrician, all the people, most of our population, in fact, who work in small businesses that rely on the private health insurance system to take care of them and their families. When you spend enough time in a Children's Hospital, you see the toll it takes on families. Lots of children don't have people to be with them because their parents HAVE to work every day to keep income or whatever insurance they do have. How scary must it be for a child to have to sit alone through a chemo treatment, or a night after surgery with no one to hold their hand. Don't get me wrong, nurses are FANTASTIC, but they are not the same as the constant presence of a loving family member.

What if we had to just go with our first diagnosis because we had to decide that for financial reasons, three other opinions were not possible. What if, faced with a rare treatable cancer with clinical trials at another institution, we couldn't even consider it, for financial reasons. And now, we have every reason to think and hope that Bo will live a long and healthy life. But what if, for financial reasons he can't pursue his desired career. This diagnosis will cost him for the rest of his life, it will cost him in higher life insurance and poor access to health insurance.

So, Jay is finally glad I wouldn't let him get a new house this year--I hate moving and it was not the fun I was looking for right now! We need to save every penny we can to make sure that Bo CAN live a long and healthy life and have access to the best treatment there is forever. And we can do that, we are simple people with simple needs and relatively good earnings potential--but what about the people who can't? Do we really believe our medical system is optimal--shouldn't we be pro-life forever and make sure every child, of every parent, not just the poorest kids, but the kids of our auto mechanics and plumbers, contractors, electricians--the hard working independent entrepreneurs who make our country work--have access to the care they need when they need it?

I promise I am not going to make my blog political, but spend just one day in pediatric inpatient and listen to all the stories of people who lost their jobs because they had too many medical appointments, single moms with other kids and no family, people who travel long distances to a larger hospital to get better care, but then also have to leave jobs and health insurance behind. What if all you could get your child for Christmas for the next ten years was installments on your 20% of a $1 million cancer bill? With a heavy heart for the noble and selfless people I met in the hospital, and Taci and Jacqueline who I think about every day, Lisa

The Fight Against Terrorism

War and cancer have a lot in common. And there have been a lot more practical pieces written on war than on fighting cancer. So, as we try to decide the next step in our battle, let me refer to what is commonly known as the Powell Doctrine. Caspar Weinberger originally identified eight questions that need to be answered affirmatively before taking military action:

1. Is there a vital national security interest?
2. Are there clear attainable objectives?
3. Is there a complete cost/benefit analysis?
4. Have we tried everything else?
5. Do we have an exit strategy?
6. Have we considered the consequences?
7. Do our people support it?
8. Do our allies support it?

Powell's expansion to the questions was an assertion that once we choose military action, we must do so decisively, with overwhelming force and minimize our own casualties.

So, Bo has a form of cancer. We have two plausible diagnoses, similar, though they differ on the continuum of malignancy. Metastatic benign pleomorphic adenoma and myoepithelial carcinoma are both salivary gland neoplasms. Neoplasms are tumors, and the diagnosis has been complicated all along by the fact that they found a second tumor, relatively far from the first, that is histologically similar and in a node. Nodal involvement is generally considered worse than second tumors in some other sites because nodal involvement can signal lymphatic metastases which means the cancer has become more systemic. Like flus and colds. The conditions that can only spread through direct contact are a lot less scary than the ones that can travel through the air and live a long time. AIDS may be a scarier condition, but it is still a lot harder to get than tuberculosis or the flu which can become epidemic very quickly.

And in that way, cancers are like people. Some are very geographically specific. Jay has a very dear aunt who starts to get heart palpitations when she leaves Maine soil. Bless her heart, there was a time she was younger and more adventuresome and she could leave for short times, but she could never happily take up residence anywhere else. A lot of cancers are like that, they can try to move, but adjusting to a new environment, different food, weird neighbors, all takes too much work and they give up. Stronger cancers do take up residence in other places, they thrive and their children leave home, travel to distant places and successfully take over their world--and that world would be our bodies.

So that little node has always been our bugaboo. Is it just a freak accident like the first tumor? Pleomorphic adenoma is a relatively common benign neoplasm of the salivary glands--they are usually identified near the parotid gland, in front of the ear, but can also be found in other salivary gland tissues, including in the lung. In about 20% of people, they are removed and that's it. In about 60% of people, there is a recurrence, or a couple, they remove it again, and that's it. And in about 20% of people, this "benign" tumor metastasizes and becomes unruly. Myoepithelial carcinoma is our other diagnosis, higher in the malignancy spectrum and much rarer. Carcinomas are usually treated with chemo. But the problem is that the "epithelial" nature of the tumor makes it an adult cancer that is treated with adult drugs--as one of our oncologists said--"big guns" that are not normally used or tested on kids.

And so back to the Powell doctrine and the war on terrorism. It is very difficult to answer those questions affirmatively and commit to bringing in the "big guns," ever, it seems to me, and we won't get into politics, but I think Powell felt the same way. So, as we fight our little war on cancer, it is akin to fighting terrorists in our own country. What if we found out tomorrow that there is a terrorist cell in Columbia (or your town) planning a devastating attack? What if we know that we have one opportunity to drop just one bomb and end their plans forever, but it would cost the lives of about 1000 innocent Columbians and save tens of thousands, maybe hundreds of thousands more. What if we also know that the bomb would have to be dropped near the University reactor (or in your town a chemical plant, the dam or some other dangerous target), thus harming Columbia and Columbians, possibly forever. If you choose not to, they may fail this time and sulk away never to be seen again. More likely, they will continue working, with outcomes that could still be catastrophic. The Department of Homeland Security wants YOU to make the decision NOW.

It may seem like a somewhat twisted analogy, and it is extreme, but life and death decisions are made every day. Our newspapers the past couple days have been a forum for debating the recent police use of tasers that resulted in serious injury to a suicidal man. I can't imagine having to make those decisions every single day, I am having a hard time just this once. But that is where we stand, we have not been given a definitive treatment recommendation yet, but like the whole process, there is always a continuum. We know that we will have to choose either to watch and wait, or opt for some form of chemo. But by the Powell Doctrine, it is too hard to say that we are sure there is a national security interest and it is not possible to weigh the costs and benefits. Being in a position to decide to take definitive military action in a nine year old boy that may save him, but could also ruin him forever is an uncomfortable place to be.

In some ways we are very fortunate. We are pretty sure it is not pleuropulmonary blastoma or carcinosarcoma. But on the other hand those devastating diagnoses REQUIRE big guns--there is no alternative. Having to make decisions in a very gray world is very difficult and very scary. I kind if wish I could be more pessimistic or more optimistic and just "know" that we are lucky and everything is going to be great, or that we just have to do everything we can and go at it with everything we have because we can. I feel like Kermit the Frog when he sings "it's not easy being green," but he got the color wrong, if the muppets were in black and white, he would be just another shade of gray, and that's way harder!

Thanks for listening, giving feedback, and being there. Bo has had an amazing couple days. The support of the 11-12 DBLL National All-Stars has been awesome for him in a way I could never have imagined. And I like to think it's been good for the team--after losing their first game and adopting Bo, they are on their way to Regionals in Indianapolis! Could little DBLL send another team to Williamsport? They are fighting for Bo and he is fighting for them, good karma does make a difference, and spending time with them yesterday, getting to be a real boy again after six weeks of almost full-time hospital and recovery was great. He laid down on our bed last night after we got home and said in a very tired voice "Today was a great day." And so you all have a great day too, with love, Lisa

Cancer 101

The next couple posts will be more educational and dry than most of my previous posts. Right now our mental states are "all business." We have been rapidly collecting and analyzing all the information we have gathered and consulting wtih anyone who knows anything who will talk to us so that we can understand our diagnoses and make decisions about treatment. Therefore, there is no room for philosophy or emotion, all that has been put aside for later so we can have clear heads.

But, before we explain our diagnoses and the dilemmas we face in deciding our next steps, it is probably useful to do a brief overview of cancer. We sure didn't know a darn thing about it until a few weeks ago, so we are sure that someone might be in the same boat. Besides, it helps me to think if I write it all down. And, as always, any errors are totally mine and anyone with more knowledge should feel free to correct me.

Basically, cells in our body divide and make new cells every day. Some cells do not regenerate at all, or often--nerves, for one. And some replicate a lot, like our entire GI tract. Every potato chip makes small tears in your mouth and it fixes itself every day. A PET scan illuminates rapidly dividing soft tissue cells and a bone scan shows bone activity. So in most healthy people a PET scan will light up the heart, GI tract, and a few other organs. Bright spots in your liver or in the brain are not a good sign. Bo's bone scan lit up all his growth plates, but did not light up any areas in his chest where the tumor was.

Sometimes cells don't divide very well--they make mistakes. Sometimes we know why, and sometimes we don't, and normally the body kills them off and they are replaced by healthy cells. In cancer, those freaky cells replicate themselves and grow stronger, steal blood from the rest of the body and become their own little organisms--tumors. Leukemia is slightly different, but it takes over the blood, and lymphoma-type disorders take over the lymphatic system. Some tumors are benign, and some are horribly aggressive--blastomas, for example. We also know that some people lack tumor suppressing genes and grow cancer really well, and continuously stressing the same cells over and over causes cancer through too frequent replication and gene mutations--smoking causes lung cancer, chronic heartburn becomes esophogeal cancer, etc. And as we age, cancers become more frequent for the same reason--our bodies just wear out.

For that reason, most adult cancers look the same and develop the same. Prostate cancer, some breast cancers, melanoma, and others look identical under a microscope and treatments are pretty well developed because they can be tested on many different people. Childhood cancers are rare. According to St. Jude's, for every 100,000 kids under 15, every year 14 of them will be diagnosed with cancer. Some cancers are the same, and many have names--Wilm's tumors, retinoblastoma, Ewing's sarcoma. But some are rare, and sometimes children develop adult cancers. In general children get what are called stem cell cancers--kind of like freak accidents. Adults get epithelial cancers, which affect the linings of the organs, cavities or body surfaces--the cells that interact with the environment.

There are three ways to treat tumor cancers--surgery, radiation and chemotherapy. Surgery is obvious and usually desirable. The goal is to remove the entire tumor, without "spilling," and with good "margins" so you leave nothing behind. Sometimes tumors are inoperable and sometimes there is fear that not all of it was removed. Then you consider "adjuvant" therapies. Radiation and chemo agents destroy tissue--both good and bad, but the theory is that good tissue heals itself better than cancer cells. Chemo agents are also selected because they work better on cancer cells than on healthy tissue. They stop cells from dividing, and all cells divide differently, so if they can interrupt the processes in the cancer cells without affecting healthy tissue, that is ideal. And, that is why there are different chemo agents for different cancers. Sarcomas have different agents than gynecological cancers, etc.

But all cancer treatments have risks. We know the common risks of surgery; anesthesia problems, pain, accidents, etc. But the risk of radiation and chemo are much greater. Besides the very true fact that some people die from complications of treatment--toxicity, major organ damage, and infection are just a few of the immediate risks. Late effects are also not uncommon. Heart problems, hearing loss, nerve damage, infertility and cancer, especially leukemia are all more common in survivors of childhood cancer than in the rest of the population. Additionally, some chemo agents have a much greater history in the juvenile population than others, so in effect they are "safer."

In conclusion, once a cancer is suspected, treatment and identification begins. Often biopsies are performed so that identification can be first. In many cases, like ours, the simplest biopsy was not definitive and it made sense to attempt removal. Sometimes radiation is performed before surgery to try to shrink the tumor, and after diagnosis, radiation and chemo may be recommended, also. Ongoing scans and tests tell whether treatment is working and patients are observed for a long time to ensure success and or recurrence.

So that's the condensed version. My next post will explain our diagnoses and our dilemma.

Eenie, Meenie, Minie, Moe...

Experts are amazing. They can look at something 100 other people look at and tell you 100 things that not one of them noticed. I am not an expert in anything, I don't even have a discerning eye for anything specific, but that's okay, because I appreciate a LOT of things. I am not an expert cook, I don't have a terribly accurate sense of taste, or a very sophisticated palate, so no one should ever be afraid to cook for me--I like Kraft Deluxe and even a well-made Hamburger Helper dish (I do not like Easy Mac and no weird ground beef!). I can't tell good art from bad, but I appreciate most of it, and I don't have a good ear, so I appreciate lots of shows others may pan. Not everyone can or should be an expert at everything because life is too short not to appreciate the heart and effort that goes into a lot of things that are less than perfect. But there are people who can identify flora and fauna by the tiniest trace of a seed, a footprint, or a sound, and doctors and pathologists who can find things that no one else can.

The key is finding them. How do you know when you need an expert, and how do you know when you find one? We buy art because we like it and go to shows we think we'll enjoy. We never consider it an investment and we do not keep a cultural scorecard that requires we see at least five of the best performers as ranked by ________ (I have no idea who might do that.) every year. When we need our eyes checked we go to the optometrist. Our family has three and they may not be the best in Columbia, but none has ever disappointed us. We also have good hospitals, three of them, and several specialty centers filled with good doctors--some of the best in the world--in their specialty. And that's where pediatric cancer gets a little dicey.

We have great pathologists and a great oncologist, but we only have one of those--she can not possibly be an expert at EVERYTHING. Nor can any of our pathologists be experts at pediatric solid soft tissue tumors. There are less than 15,000 cases of pediatric cancer every year and about half of those fall in the leukemia and lymphoma families. Of those 7500 cases, less than 5% of them are lung tumors--less than 50 cases per year, how many pediatric lung tumors could our pathologists ever have had the opportunity to examine? So we looked for experts, we found one, the first ones with the PPB registry. But admittedly, their expertise is PPB, and they found us another expert, one who deals with pediatric tumors, then we found the some sarcoma experts, and now we have three votes in, all different diagnoses.

I am going to wait until we get the fourth to lay them all out, but we called our own "tumor board" on Tuesday. We called three friends with cancer expertise and over tortellini and wine, we examined the pathology notes and two diagnoses and raised a few questions. Our third consult, Dr. Vargas delivered the third opinion on Wednesday which led us back for another CT scan (Which was clear as far as we know.) and a review by another specialty surgeon in town, which has not occured as of yet. But when our final opinion comes in, hopefully soon, what will we do, how will we pick? Our hope is that we get two votes for one diagnosis, that will make it a lot easier, but otherwise, will we toss a coin?

The thing that is most striking to us, though, is the crazy amount of information that exists, and still the startling lack of knowledge, and the time it takes to wade through those volumes. While there may only be 50 pediatric lung tumors every year, all 50 of those parents are faced with the same situation we faced. If I were a single mother in rural northeast Missouri who was told my child had PPB, what would I do? What would I read? Who would I call, and with what time? Every child deserves the best chance for a right diagnosis and quality care, and if we are truly a compassionate society we have to make that happen.

Bo will get that care, thanks to all of the amazing people that have helped, through our great University medical system, research, prayer, and support. We are humbled by that, but troubled that there are others that have to face this incredible situation without that same level of support through no fault of their own--no child deserves less. Things happen for a reason, and I am thinking that in some way, Bo was chosen to face cancer so that I, and or someone close to me can help carry the cross for others like us--I know all the right people with all the right skills talents and compassions.

I will post an update when we get our consult from Sloan Kettering, but I am not sure when that will be. We are really hoping to hear something today. Thanks again, everyone for everything, Lisa

Pathologists are the Bomb!

There should be baseball cards or calendars, or something that elevates pathologists to the status they deserve. I know that teachers, the men who haul our trash and lots of other common professionals do not get the respect they deserve, but when was the last time you even gave a thought to PATHOLOGISTS? Sure they are doctors and we generally respect doctors, but since they don't have patients in the commonly accepted sense, most people have probably never given their PATHOLOGISTS a second thought. Radiologists probably fall in that same category and one day I may write an ode to them, as well, but today is all about pathology.

Because I can be kind of, sort of pushy when I have to be, and because Dr. Vargas is exceptionally kind, she called me today immediately after receiving my e-mail to tell me that her preliminary diagnosis is not PPB, PB or carcinosarcoma, but a salivary gland tumor--way weird, but apparently the lungs are basically salivary glands that secrete mucin. (Please note that any medical errors in my blog belong totally to me!) This is still rare, especially in a child and many of these cancers can be persistent and difficult, but the one sigh of relief is that they are not as aggressive as any of our previously diagnosed cancers. In that regard, they are often characterized as indolent, though researchers dispute use of the term, we feel much better waiting for more information before beginning treatment. PB and PPB are so scary, they can literally grow in a way that a person can actually see it, and carcinosarcoma can spread just as fast, so even the thought of seeking more opinions was more than a little scary. So on a scale of cancer with 10 being the worst, 1 not so bad--I guess little tiny skin lesions can be considered not so bad, but maybe I am wrong and insensitive, if so I apologize--we have moved from 9&10 to at least 8 and maybe even lower. So, for today we are not out of the woods, but we think we see light! We will not have any final results or recommendations for at least a week, stains take a long time, but I feel we are getting closer.

And back to the pathology thing, after I come up with a new national greeting, I am going to start a campaign for recognition of pathologists. One of my favorite obsservations from "The World is Flat" was that the reason we have some of the competition problems we have is because in the rest of the world Bill Gates is Britney Spears, and in the US, Britney Spears is Britney Spears. You could probably say the same thing about pathologists. Instead of revering people like Dr. Phil, names like Dr. Loy, Dr. Dehner, Dr. Hill and Dr. Vargas need to be household names! Thanks to all the pathologists who toil in the dark recess of hospital labs so that others may have life! Truly, Lisa

"How Are You?"

I have the greatest friends in the world and have had the privilege of knowing some of the best people. Every single day I think how lucky I am to know them, and most of them are not even friends, they are just interesting people whose paths cross mine often enough to improve my life. I like to think maybe I offer them something, but really from a selfish standpoint, I am happy just to have the opportunity to bask in the glow of genius! And by genius, I am not talking just rocket science, I know a lot of people like that, but I just mean the genius it takes to thrive in our crazy complicated world.

My lifetime BFF is Kim, and she is the person I go to when I know I am being a little self-centered and I need to give other people more credit. She is the one who would never turn down a homemade offering, even if it's candied hippo liver. She says that when people go out of their way to share a piece of themselves with you, it is terribly wrong not to accept and be truly honored, but I still say, "it's weird organ meat, and possibly dangerous!" She is 100% right, though, and while I will never be the good and selfless person she is--sorry but I will NEVER knowingly eat your gift of organ meats, I at least have learned to blame it on my doctor! Kim has given me so much advice over the years, I could probably write a book, but the piece I think of most is "never ask a question unless you REALLY want to know the answer." Do these pants make my butt look big, isn't this neon green just the best color for me, and what do you think of my new orange ceilings are all questions you really shouldn't ask to anyone but your BFF!

And that brings me to "How are you?" We, as a nation need to come up with an alternative to that seemingly polite quotidian inquiry. I know better writers have addressed this issue, and I have been guilty of asking it way too many times, but until someone gets on the bandwagon and really makes an effort to come up with something more satisfactory, we seem to be stuck with it. I ask that question in some form more than a dozen times a day at the store, and no less than 10 times in the past three years, I have had women and a couple men start crying. I like to think it was because I have a healing aura--a voodoo doctor told me that once--and that for just a moment I was able to let them relieve some stress and make their load just a little lighter. But possibly, they cried because what they really wanted to do was scream:

"Not well thank you. I am on the verge of a nervous breakdown, my marriage is a wreck, my sister has breast cancer and I am taking care of her kids, I have a work deadline I am never going to meet, I am only here because I have ten minutes before dance and I have to take something to a potluck and feed all the kids at my house and you have the unmitigated audacity to ask 'how are you?' can't you tell I am not well and now is not the time to discuss it, but if you have an hour at 7:00, I will gladly clear my schedule because I sure could use the opportunity to unload."

And so now, as I go about my daily life, shopping, taking care of normal ordinary chores, those are the only moments I spend alone, the only time I allow myself the luxury of sadness and fear, only to be faced with the pretty young sales associate who smiles and says "How are you on this nice sunny day?" Fear for the possibility of scarring the poor young lady for a lifetime is the only thing that keeps the tears at bay, but then I am forced to shrug her off without saying a word, so she can only think I am a rude shopper, and it sure isn't in my agenda to want to turn an optimistic young woman into a jaded adult, but I also couldn't risk mascara running down my face when I only had 20 minutes to get back to work with the cilantro.

So, because I know I am constantly surrounded by genius, I implore everyone to come up with some alternatives--try them out and send me your best ideas. As a person who constantly strives to offer the best customer service, what are the best greetings? During football season in Texas, the standard greeting is "How 'bout dem Boys?" Not a bad one, even as a non-fan, it is a totally easy greeting--I can safely reply, "totally missed the last two games" and if you can talk and you know the other person is receptive, you can say, "I missed the last two games because my mother passed away and I had to be out of town." But either way, you can take a safe exit. Of course there is the standard weather greeting "it sure is hot today," or "do you think spring is coming soon?" But they are too old, and now they tread so very closely to being political, so I try to stay away from those. I knew a man who always said "How's tricks?" I never knew what that meant so it always gave me pause and I would just smile and say "Fine." That works for him, and maybe that's the key, we all need our own. In my current role, I could ask everyone "What's cooking today? but that just doesn't feel right, maybe I just need practice. Gas prices rising, economy falling, bees and blue crabs are disappearing--now is the time for a national optimism movement that starts with a new greeting. so let me know when you find a good one! Thanks from the bottom of my heart, Lisa

The Waiting is the Hardest Part

I am the only one in my family that doesn't like Tom Petty, but now I have that running refrain in my head always! It's really almost embarassing that it has been over a month and we still are not totally sure what we are facing and what we are going to have to do about it. But, our meeting was cancelled yesterday, our doctor is still waiting for a few opinions from colleagues and the slides, etc. for our formal second opinions were only delivered yesterday. So, we will wait to hear from them before we start treatment. Therefore, we won't have any real updates for a couple days.

As always, we appreciate all the calls, letters, and e-mails, I am going to have to scrapbook them, or something, I suppose. We may need evidence of all the offers to clean our house when the going gets tough! Just joking, but I am not a keeper of stuff, I am, in general a purger, but so many of the notes we have received have been too precious to just discard. I will work on that in my spare time! With love, Lisa

Shades of Gray

I went to a weird college. Carnegie Mellon University is home to the geekiest geeks and the artsiest artists--which makes for the most eclectic combination of people you could ever assemble and at 4500 undergrads (That's what it was when I was there anyway, and as a tour guide, I am an encyclopedia of weird facts about my school!), you know all of them. And people go there for that reason, my friend John was a mechanical engineer who went on to operate a music recording studio. And I knew designers who went on to build fighter jet cockpits or become marketing executives for accounting firms--crazy stuff. But the Halloween costumes were amazing. Set a bunch of artistic engineers and technical artists loose on the wildest holiday of the year and you get the best costumes. One of my favorite was "Shades of Gray." Three guys in superhero tights and capes--white, gray and black with 0, .5 and 1, respectively, on their chests. I thought that was hysterical, but that would be nerd humor, I know, I was a geek not an artist.

But life is like that. Sometimes things are black and white, but mostly they are gray--.1, .3, .5, or .8, how can you tell the difference without a pantone guide? As a parent, life is really gray. Every single day I wonder if I did the right thing. Did I do enough, how much therapy will my child need because I made a joke about his lame attempt to climb that tree? And when it comes to medical matters, how do you differentiate between black, white and gray? I am a huge advocate of finding the BEST medical care when life hangs in the balance. But how do you know when life is at stake? We love our ENT/Allergist, I think he is a god, but he is probably not the best--there is always someone better, right? But when Bo needed his tonsils out, I didn't read journal articles or search for the latest in tonsillectomy technology--that was black and white. Many cancers are routine--some types of leukemia, breast cancers, even sarcomas have standard protocols. But when there is no mold, what do you do?

We have gone around and around the last couple days. Our oncologist is at a conference this week with virtually every other pediatric oncologist that isn't at another conference. One day I may tell Bo's birth story, but it all revolves around our midwives being at a conference--what is it with Bo and conferences? So we talk to people, Joyce, a local mother of a young girl who survived a very rare rhabdoid tumor recounted her experience at St. Jude's and said "you only get one chance." And unfortunately we live in a town with way too many doctors who all have great advice. So on the eve of what was supposed to be a meeting with our oncologist to go over the treatment protocol, we decide we need a second and third opinion.

Once again we are in a holding pattern. The diagnosis was too inconclusive for us and the pathologists who worked on the diagnosis in St. Louis recommended another pathologist at Dana-Farber with a specific expertise in non-PPB pulmonary tumors, so the slides are being sent for a second pathology review. Others recommended the pediatric sarcoma group at Memorial Sloan-Kettering in NY, so more slides are going there for a full pathology and treatment recommendation. Not that we don't trust our oncologist, we do, but it is our very own University Hospital that has been running a commercial about one of their new centers that goes something like "If two heads are better than one, isn't 14 heads better than 2?" I guess that's how many doctors they have in that particular center--maybe the ad is not all that effective since I can't remember the center, but it works against them in that I feel decidedly cheated that we only have ONE pediatric oncologist! I was telling her nurse (who is also tremendous) today that for all I know they might both be leaving, and then where would that leave Bo? We would have no heads, no heads is NOT better than one!

So we wait, we ponder what it would be like to move to NY for a year, if it comes to that, wonder what we do if we get two new completely different diagnoses, worry, and read more scary articles we don't really understand... If I had known how much work it was going to be, I never would have let Bo get cancer, that's for darn sure! But on a positive note, he is doing really well, almost all healed from surgery and port placement. We have the in-law apartment almost fully outfitted, but waiting to see if we need to move to NY before we spend money on a bed and sleeper sofa.

Also, though we had to leave at intermission, Matt Haimowitz (sp?) played a concert tonight with the MO Symphony and from the one piece he played before the break, it was going to be truly awesome. He is playing another classical concert on Saturday, so you really should go. And we are really looking forward to Time for Three on Monday--three young, shall we call them, alternative, string players will be performing in a chamber event! And Thursday, A la Carte will feature all the Symphony Musicians in chamber pieces and lots of food from their home countries! So much to do, so little time! More after our meeting tomorrow, with love, Lisa

Things I Never Wanted to Learn

I had a teacher in fifth and sixth grade who told me I was a lazy student. I went back to visit my favorite teacher, Mr. Antry for several years and Mrs. Jonas would always say, "oh, it's Lisa, are you still doing only what it takes to get by?" I resented that at the time, but she was right, I was a lazy student--I was a good student and kept straight A's and almost perfect attendance, but I could figure out exactly how much I needed to know and what I could skip to keep my A's. Second semester sophomore year in college, I really screwed up and underestimated the curve--learned my lesson hard! But for the most part, I could figure out that if nuclear half-lives were going to be 10% of the final, as long as I knew everything else, I could skip that! Same with history, I was an engineering major until my last semester senior year so I wouldn't have to take European history, even though I knew I was graduating with a degree in psychology--a loophole only a lazy student like me could figure out! Unfortunately, I fear Pierce inherited that talent...

But if I had to make a list of things I never really wanted to learn, cancer would be at the top of my list. I wanted to be a research doctor so I could find a cure for diabetes and help my brother Tom, but then I realized that medicine is too many years in school. Some other things I never wanted to learn are the the finer points of HVAC and refrigeration--it's amazing what you have to learn in the food business--besides the names and symptoms attached to every food borne illness; the pros and cons of male circumcision, and how to operate a lawn mower--I still can't do that and NOTHING is going to make me. I can't imagine cutting grass will ever save someone's life, so grass cutting is best left to experts as far as I am concerned!

But you know, when you have to learn something to save or better the lives of your kids (like the whole circumcision debate), you do it and you do it as well as you can and as fast as you can. I have never read more things that I so totally don't understand in such a short amount of time. Now I also know enough about cancer and chemo to be dangerous... I think we are ready for a Thursday meeting with our oncologist to go over recommended treatment that we expect to start on Tuesday. I am glad Bo had time to heal, he will still have steristrips on all his surgical sites, but at least he isn't in pain any longer.

So I don't expect many updates before Thursday. I am going to try to get caught up at the store--we are way busier than we are supposed to be in July--that's a great thing, though, better to focus on lasagna sometimes than scary medical statistics I don't understand! Thanks again everyone for everything, Lisa