Bo's Fifteen Minutes

It was Andy Warhol (who was, I might add, a Carnegie Mellon student...) who said that we all get 15 minutes of fame. I joke about this notion a lot. Pierce was due on December 30th and I told everyone that I DID NOT want a New Year's baby because when I finally got my 15 minutes, I wanted to be wearing clothes AND makeup! Well, I hope Bo hasn't had his 15 minutes--'cause that would really be a bummer--especially now that we are pretty darn sure he never even had cancer! If you are interested in the gory details, you can go to www.uscap.org and read his case study. Please note that some of the biographic details are wrong, but let's face it, Dr. Vargas was only interested in the gory details, not the pretty ones.

And can I say just one more time, that pathologists are just the best and Dr. Vargas is my hero? She presented Bo's case at the annual pathology conference and by the end of the discussion, there was not a dissenting opinion in the room. Plus, in preparation for the conference she did one more genetic test to determine that Bo does indeed have a marker for pleomorphic adenoma. So, what he had needed to be removed since any abnormal growth can become cancer if left long enough. The fact that it had already spread also probably meant that malignancy or further spread was probable if left to its own devices, but divine providence said we needed to find it and so the rest is history.

She said that Bo really has no more chance of having a recurrence than any of the rest of us have of having a single occurence of pleomorphic adenoma, but his monitoring schedule should probably still be followed since there is always a risk that a portion was left behind and may still be growing. So, that makes this blog really boring now, but I think I will keep it for a while, I can continue to let you know when Bo has his check-ups and hopefully at some point I will get back to business and tell you about the plans for the cancer center which have been on the back burner for a long time, but will be resurrected one day when life settles back down.

For now, Bo's last scans were Monday and he's all clear. He's also getting better at being poked and prodded, so the visits are much less traumatic than they used to be. So life in CoMO is good, the weather is beautiful and life is just magical--best to you and yours this fall season--my favorite and talk to you soon! With love, Lisa

How do You Measure a Year?

I am so excited that CEC has RENT on their lineup this season! RENT and Into the Woods, two of my favorites and perfect fodder for our one year anniversary. Roxanne reminded me that I never updated the blog after Bo's scans. They were clear, and here we are again in baseball season--right where we were last year when everything fell apart. June 10th, yesterday made it one year since the pool accident. And what an amazing year it's been. Bo had cancer, we totalled our old car, I got sued, but everything has worked out and life goes on. But as I contemplate life, which I do a lot, there are two songs--one from each musical--that hold even more special meaning for me since last year. I leave them for you to consider--some words need no elaboration. And let it serve as a teaser to CEC's next season--be there, community theater rocks!

RENT--Seasons of Love (abbreviated slightly):

525,600 minutes, 525,000 moments so dear.
525,600 minutes - how do you measure, measure a year?
In daylights, in sunsets, in midnights, in cups of coffee.
In inches, in miles, in laughter, in strife.
525,600 minutes - how do you measure a year in the life?
How about love? Measure in love. Seasons of love.
525,600 minutes! 525,000 journeys to plan.
525,600 minutes - how can you measure the life of a woman or man?
In truths that she learned, or in times that he cried.
In bridges he burned, or the way that she died....
It's time now to sing out, the story never ends let's celebrate
remember a year in the life of friends.
How about love! Measure in love. Seasons of love!

Into the Woods--Children Will Listen (abbreviated slightly):

How do you say to your child in the night?
Nothing's all black, but then nothing's all white
How do you say it will all be all right
When you know that it might not be true?
What do you do?

Careful the things you say
Children will listen
Careful the things you do
Children will see and learn
Children may not obey, but children will listen
Children will look to you for which way to turn
To learn what to be
Careful before you say "Listen to me"
Children will listen

Careful the wish you make
Wishes are children
Careful the path they take
Wishes come true, not free
Careful the spell you cast
Not just on children
Sometimes the spell may last
Past what you can see
And turn against you
Careful the tale you tell
That is the spell
Children will listen

How can you say to a child who's in flight
"Don't slip away and I won't hold so tight"
What can you say that no matter how slight
Won't be misunderstood
What do you leave to your child when you're dead?
Only whatever you put in it's head
Things that you're mother and father had said
Which were left to them too
Careful what you say
Children will listen
Careful you do it too
Children will see
And learn, oh guide them that step away
Children will glisten
Tample with what is true
And children will turn
If just to be free
Careful before you say
"Listen to me"

Spring?

Spring is the time for new growth and regeneration--and floods, I guess, when you live in mid-MO! Flooding was not something I ever really knew anything about before I moved here, or rain without "severe weather warnings." Back east, you could count on spring thunderstorms and we loved them! You could sit outside and watch the amazing natural light show, get soaked, and appreciate the fact that everything would sparkle in the morning. Once we moved to Missouri, we learned that rain is seldom a cleansing shower, it is a fear invoking, life threatening ordeal.

That has changed lately. In the last couple years, we've had a lot of regular rain. This year, it seems it doesn't really want to stop. But that's life isn't it? You never get what you expect because as soon as you think you have some kind of nice normal pattern, something or someone throws a wrench in the whole darn plan! So you learn to appreciate the changes and the surprise and new experiences they might bring, or mourn what you've lost.

So we come into this spring with a new appreciation for life and newness and how things can turn on a dime, but dreary storms can bring a new sheen to situations that once looked quite muddy and unattractive. Monday Bo has his quarterly scans and we have no reason to think everything won't be well, but it will represent almost a year since we started out little cancer trip and the start of what we hope will be a nice normal summer for Bo. But we'll let y'all know after we get the results on Monday.

Have a great spring! Lisa

Life with and without cancer...

So, it was a week, to be sure. Bo had his scans on Monday, and pre-op. The scans were clear and his procedure went as well as could be expected. He is a little sore and had to miss Show Me State Games with his basketball team, but such is life. At least his port is gone. But there was some sadness around the fact that we will no longer be able to find Bo with a metal detector--fortunately he keeps growing so chances of losing him get slimmer every day.

However, I still feel like I live in a strange cancer epicenter. We recently found out that one of Jay's colleagues has a terrible case of bile duct cancer, and a new friend of mine found out that she is facing a cancer recurrence. After six years, she must face the confusion and fear of treatment. Fighting for all the little bits of information, trying to make the best choices and understand all the options all while caring for a family and not finding the best support is not something I wish on anyone.

So, on Friday night I put the boys to bed and I cried--for closure and relief, or perhaps for mourning, maybe in grief, I'm not really sure. I just know that I have arrived at "a certain age" (I still maintain I am 32) where death and dying and family problems will be a very real part of life. It is true that without sadness, you don't get to fully appreciate the happiness, but why is it that life experiences seem to come in the wrong order? Who doesn't look back on their youth and wish that they could do it over with just a fraction of the wisdom and confidence of an adult--just live it up knowing that whatever Suzie said about you to Brian on Tuesday will not matter past Wednesday. And who doesn't wish that just a few of life's difficulties could come a little earlier so that we could be better prepared. Hell, even if I could have had allergies or knee problems earlier in life, I might have worked harder to take care of myself...well, or not...

All I know is that I will never be able to look at people the same again, for better and for worse. I much better appreciate all the trouble people carry, but I am less tolerant of selfishness. How is it that some people can't or won't come through? Why does crisis bring out the best in some and the worst in others? As our country faces what are bound to be a rough couple years, I wonder that same about all crises, not just cancer and health problems. Why are there so many people doing great things, and yet so many Madoffs who will take all they can and run. Where is the happiness in that?

Anyway, too many issues too big for me. I can't even get a couple cancer support teams running, for heaven's sake! We tried, for those of you wondering, we started a team for preteens struggling with the loss of a parent, but the bottom line is there isn't enough TIME in a week! But, now thanks to an inquiry from a kind woman named Rita in Macon (who happened to work at MODOT in what I think is the best office building ever) we are investigating the possibility of "virtual teams." Since kids are so much more comfortable online than they are even in person, there has to be a way to use Facebook, or Yahoo Groups, or even plain e-mail to facilitate online support teams.

So, we are still working on developing the Cancer Club and if anyone has any ideas, feel free to share. Hope everyone has a great Valentine's Day--I personally think the holiday is a scam, but I am very fond of chocolate strawberries from the Candy Factory and the lovely boxes of Godiva you can get on clearance the week after! Life is short, so be thankful for small graces, Lisa

Scheduled to be Deported

That's right, while he is not an illegal immigrant, Bo will be deported on Friday, February 6th. He will go in for scans on Monday, and do all his pre-op, then if everything is clear, and we expect it to be, he will report on Friday at 5:30 for 7:00 surgery. The removal should only take 30-40 minutes, then when he is awake and taking fluids he gets to go home. The end of a long year will soon be here. I may blog more later, but now I have to go work! Have a great day, Lisa