Black Friday

We didn't head out Friday morning for any doorbusters. It wasn't that Thursday still had my jeans busting at the seams, just that none of us were motivated to get up very early and head out into the madness. None of the ad papers had any must have at this price deals. It wasn't til around 5 p.m. that Roo actually did stumble on a sale item that she wanted...so we called Target but they were all sold out. It would be easy for me to add this to her Christmas list...but its a Dyson steam cleaner mop thing and I long swore off household appliances as gifts. For the first time since I believe we started dating, I have known what I wanted to get Roo for Christmas long before Black Friday (or better yet, the week of Christmas, which I admit has more than once been shopping time for me). The only problem is that the longer I have, the more I question my gift idea. The good news is that we are on the home stretch. I may still have stuffing and sweet potatoes on my palette by the smell of egg nog is in the air. Its now acceptable to tune into the 24 hour Christmas stations on the radio. Bring the decorations down from the attic and put them up around the house. Thanksgiving is over, Black Friday is upon us and yet all I really see is red and green.

Southern Fried Thanksgiving

Happy Thanksgiving...and we have so much to be thankful for. We can complain about traffic or health care reform or the terrible performance of Jay Cutler (though I still contend its not his fault), but we are all a bit spoiled and nothing like Thanksgiving to remind us that we are blessed in so many ways. We are spending Thanksgiving in the country at Riley's parents and for the second year, I fried a turkey. I may never NOT fry a turkey on Thanksgiving again. If you haven't ever had fried turkey or have never fried one yourself, here's

how easy it is:

Step 1: Heat 4 gallons of peanut oil to 325 degrees. Do this outside.

Step 2: SLOWLY place completely thawed and turkey into pot. Turkey can be soaked in a brine overnight on the night before or injected with marinade. Use a paper towel to dry the surface of the turkey off before SLOWLY lowering into oil.

Step 3: Maintain the temperature of the pot at 325 degrees. Once you get over 375, you risk the oil starting to burn. The temperature will drop 25 degrees when you put the turkey in, the temp will go back up so don't increase the flame intensity too quickly too soon. Enjoy the smell.

Step 4: It takes about 3 and a half minutes per pound to cook. Strike up conversation with your father-in-law to pass the time.

Step 5: Remove turkey and turn off the gas on the fryer. Let turkey rest for 15 minutes then look up how to carve a turkey on YouTube because I didn't know...I mean if you don't know how.

Step 6: Enjoy the turkey. Be thankful.

Made it a Blockbuster Night

I started a new job last week, well a new position at my job anyway. With this new role, comes new responsibilities, a new paycheck and new hours. I used to work from 7 to 4, avoiding most of the traffic and associated road rage. Now, that I am working 8:30 to 5:30ish and getting home and settled closer to 7pm, I’ve been neglecting my Xbox. With Roo still fighting like a girl in Greenville and Jessica out celebrating her princess month and Halloween, I went into Friday night with the home alone and full expectation of devoting several hours to Call of Duty and Madden. Instead, I made it a blockbuster night. And while there weren’t many blockbusters that jumped out at me on the new release wall, I will get caught up on some of the sci-fi titles that Riley and I have passed over on previous trips. Riley isn’t big into movies that couldn’t really happen so an alien-induced Indiana Jones flick, an alien that makes the Earth stand still for a day and some sort of alien that turns New York into a cloverfield were films I was able to enjoy instead of the Xbox and Roo was able to avoid altogether. I just need to find a personal movie clause that will allow me to avoid the next Nicholas Sparks flick.

Act Like a Man

One of many memorable scenes of the Godfather is the part where Don Corleone slaps a wimpering Johnny Fontaine and demands that the struggling singer can “act like a man.” Basically, the Godfather is telling troubled troubadour to grow up and stop crying. Riley hasn’t seen me cry in some time, probably since we saw "Marley and Me." And she has never slapped me and told me to grow up, though I suspect she has thought about it on a few occasions such as when she walked in on one of my xbox sessions in which I am arguing with a 9 year old.

Well, this week, I have taken a step forward, I’ve grown up a little. I started a new job on Friday, a new role at the same company and I honestly feel like I’ve taken a huge step forward professionally. Her dream job is to be a stay at home mom and I really think I’ve made a strong move in that direction. In other recent adult moves, I fixed two sinks, have flossed every day since my last checkup at the dentist, learned that kitchen knives are shaped differently to serve different purposes, graduated from using watermelon scented baby shampoo by switching to manly high endurance sports body wash and I’ve stuck to a workout regiment for an entire week.

So any tears you see from me are tears of joy when I say Happy 17^th Month Anniversary Roo!

Dog Tired

I wish the second half of the weekend would drag on and play out as long as Friday afternoons in the office always seem to do. Another weekend has flown by, and this one has left us dog tired, literally. As I type, Kennedy is no doubt dreaming of open fields, squirrels and steak scraps.

Friday night, we celebrated the birthdays of Jessica (sister) and Jessica (bridesmaid) at Nikko's, a sushi hotspot in Charlotte. I spent Saturday getting an oil change (sorry Dad, I know you told me I should do this myself), cutting the grass (which I thought had stopped growing for the fall, only to find it growing faster than it did in May) and fixing the sink (well, repairing two chips in the porcelain that I am responsible for creating). Riley was out at about getting her hair done, shopping and planning the week's menu for me. We also entertained cousin Morgan, who came to town to gauge interest from brother Phil about a European trip next summer. That involved a little housecleaning accompanied by laundry. After Sunday school, it was time to switch gears and prepare Roo for her next trip to Greenville. The whirlwind weekend has finally calmed and while we are both briefly relaxing in the living room, laptops in hand, we should maybe take a hint from Max on how to best spend the next few free minutes.

Taking a Time Out

As you may have been tracking, Riley has been away, serving as caregiver for her mom as they fight like girls against multiple myeloma. Back home, I ruled the house. With that great power, comes great responsibility. So while I am able to spend more time with the Xbox, which temporarily resides downstairs on the big screen when Roo is away, I also am in charge of the chores, dry cleaning and weekly menu, among other things. Not to say I can’t hold my own or haven’t been on my own before, but I don’t recall it ever being this long. I think the hardest part was creating the weekly menu for Jessica and me. It isn't that beef taco night or cheeseburgers on the George Foreman, weren't delicious but our menu wasn't nearly as diverse as Riley would have made it, nor did it possess anywhere close to the daily recommended allowance of vegetable servings. I didn’t have a problem telling Jessica to do her homework and I did manage the dry cleaning. Still, I have yet to align my definition of clean with Riley’s, so while maybe the bathroom wasn’t up to Roo’s standards when she returned home Friday, it wasn’t the disaster it had been on Thursday. Maybe I procrastinate too much, or maybe I work better under pressure. But to an extent, I think I take free time for granted, in the sense that I should have a better grasp on how to make the best use of it. If I didn’t stay up until midnight playing Madden, it’d probably be easier to match my socks at 6 in the morning. If I didn’t snooze the alarm or stall for stretching before softball, maybe I’d be able to update the blog more frequently or wake the next day without sore knees. Or maybe the way I use my time in part defines exactly who I am, it is just that all the time, no matter what I am doing, Riley is in my mind. All in all, in the time she has been away, I am so proud of the strength Riley has given her mom and family through her support. And I am so very appreciative of all she does to support this house, this relationship and so very appreciative of the time she is home. And she is home now, so I am going to spend less time on the laptop, and more with her.

Sweet 16

Happy 16 month anniversary to us! Here are some interesting facts about the number 16:

• There are 16 ounces in a pound
• The Super Nintendo Entertainment System or SNES was one of the most popular 16-bit video game systems
• Most bank cards contain 16 digit account numbers
• Peyton Manning wore #16 at the University of Tennessee
• 16 is the atomic number of sulfur
• US Interstate 16 runs from Savannah to Macon, Georgia
• A chess set contains 16 pawns and each players starts with 16 pieces
• 16 is one of the recurring themed numbers of ABC’s LOST

Fighting Like A Girl

I've started Fighting Like A Girl to chronicle the journey I'm about to take with my Mom as she goes through a stem cell transplant to treat Multiple Myeloma. A HUGE thank you goes out to all of you who have kept us in your thoughts and prayers over the past few months. I'm truly amazed by the compassion I've experienced from friends, family, and complete strangers. I hope to post daily on our progress throughout the 11 week process. I'm also hoping EJ will keep up with our posts here!! If you'd like to follow us on our journey please do so -- the more prayer warriors we have on our team the better!!

Home is Where the Heart Is

It seems like the last time I blogged, the Cubs were a good team in the National League, Obama had all the answers, people were still talking about Michael Jackson and swine flu was a thing of the past. It feels even longer since we first moved into our house but between Roo’s last post and now, not only have we celebrated two years of home ownership but we have visited Chicago, cleaned the garage, sold the garage and prepared for a temporary change of residence.

Sweet Home Chicago: For work, Riley not only had to travel to Chicago but was working in my old neighborhood for the week. I had a voucher for a roundtrip flight and both the Cubs and Bears had home games on Thursday of said week. These events converged like the perfect storm. By mid-week, Roo received some moral support to a rough work week from yours truly. Thursday, within hours of each other, we attended games at both Wrigley and Soldier Field. We panoramically viewed Windy City and seemingly saw California, gazing west from 1300 feet in the Willis (formerly Sears) Tower with only about 6 inches of glass between our feet and the Chicago River below. We ended the trip with some deep dish pizza and a surprise upgrade onto an earlier flight.

Home Sweet Home: While the Chicago trip was all fun and play for me, Roo was busy at work all week and a stressful week it was. By week’s end she was worn out and longed for the soft sheets of our bed, sweet tea and all other things Carolina. Because of this, I did not complain when she was upgraded to first class on the flight home while I flew coach. She didn’t complain when Max, out of excitement, peed on her jeans upon greeting us as we walked in the front door.

Home Improvement: Over the past two years, our garage has evolved from a shelter for at least one of the cars, to an accumulation of all unused, out of season and otherwise not-fit-to-be-placed-in-any-other-room items we own. The garage needed an overhaul and that’s what we gave it. Through thoughtful planning and design, we added some shelves and a Gladiator tool rack to establish some order in the large-scale version of a junk drawer. Let me say that this customizable “wall system” lived up to the name of the movie as far as manliness is concerned. During the renovation, I truly felt as if HGTV was filming and our final results were emmy-winning.

Yard Sale: Some of the garage clean-up meant creating a temporary pile in the center of the floor, stuff that wasn’t going to stay. We were up at 5:15 this morning, preparing to greet the waves of bargain hunters with a wide assortment of items from our past. Along with neighbors and friends Lori and Will, we had a fairly successful rummage sale. Considering I would have paid someone to get most of these things out of my garage, coming out with a little extra cash at the end of the day was rewarding. No amount of money however can present a feeling as rewarding as helping out someone in need. We “met” many strangers today and while some didn’t have they felt like spending in the form of conversation, others shared their stories while we shared a couple hundred square feet of grass. One neighbor’s friend had lost nearly everything in a house fire, another visitor has been without a job for over a year, another couple shared the joy of a new house, while another shared the joy of an older child moving out of their house into one of his own. Some things we “sold” for no price at all, and at times felt like we should “pay” for the good feeling.

Home Away from Home: One of Saturday morning’s shoppers keyed us in on the Hospice and Community Care organization. Instead of taking our unsold items to Goodwill or the Salvation Army, we donated all of the remaining clothes, toys, books, dishes, etc. to the local organization that for over 20 years has provided compassionate care to those with very special needs in our area. It felt very good to donate to a cause that hits so close to home. Next week, Riley’s mom will begin the 11+ week stem cell transplant; procedures and emotions that I couldn’t do justice trying to describe in this entry. This trying time will be filled with faith, prayers, hope and tears…and dirty dishes piled up in the sink. Riley’s mom will temporarily relocate for proximity to the hospital and to allow close monitoring by her doctor during the procedure. Riley will be at her mom’s side for as much of the next 3 months as the Hippocratic Oath allows. A very distant and secondary effect of this process means that I will be driving the war effort on the homefront alone. More prayers, hope, faith and tears. I would ask they all go to support Riley’s mom’s health and Riley’s strength in support, but if you can spare a moment and a prayer, I could certainly use it.

Home is where the heart is, and my heart may have never felt healthier than it does now. Through all the trials, tribulations, travels and treats we’ve experienced and been blessed with thus far, I’ve never felt more true to the fact that I am exactly where I am supposed to be, doing what I am supposed to be doing, living the life I am supposed to live. I’ve never felt more at home.

A friend of mine shared this video on Facebook this morning. I immediately sent it over to my girlfriend Jessica who is getting married next May with a message asking if we could do this at her wedding. Fun idea right?




Then I remembered this video --- we had a little fun too.

We practiced this once and we looked like a dancing disaster but we got a ton of laughs. We didn't even intend for the dance to be videoed but a quick thinking friend ran back to his table and grabbed his camera when he realized what we were doing -- that's why the first portion of the dance is missing. I woke up in a funky mood this morning so reliving this moment snapped me right out of it -- insert big sigh of relief from EJ. We're spending our Saturday doing a little yardwork and cleaning the house in preparation for an end of summer sunday school social we're hosting tomorrow afternoon. My sister also returns from summer break this weekend and will begin her junior year at Winthrop next week. EJ may be more excited than I am about her return -- she keeps him company while I'm out of town for work and doesn't care if he plays Call of Duty for hours on end.
I'll update everyone on my Mom in detail next week. She wrapped up her induction chemo cycles this week and we're headed to Greenville on Tuesday to meet with her oncologist who will hopefully answer all of our questions about the next battle of this war --- the stem cell transplant. Keep those prayers going!

Size 15

At what point do you stop keeping score by month for a kid's age? I understand 0-11 months, you can't round up to one year given magnitude of the event that is a child's first birthday party (see previous post). But I always get confused when I ask someone at work how old their child is and I get a response like "33 months." I love math, especially the easy kind I can do in my head but I think this is a case when it just isn't necessary. I can't figure if 33 months sounds older or younger than "almost" 3 years. Maybe it is because so many new and exciting things happen in a child's life from month to month in those first few years? I mean, once you get to be 411 like me, you're not surprising too many people with new tricks, right? Not to go Andy Rooney on here, but I never understood kid's clothes sizes. No toddler I have ever met is wearing the size clothes that match his age. If babies really grow at such varying shapes and speeds so that you can only at best eyeball the attire to fit, then a new system is needed. Women's shoe sizes don't make sense to me either. Why can't a size 15 in men's be a size 15 in women's shoes too? Those are huge feet and there is no hiding them, so does using the same formula that converts Fahrenheit to Celsius really need to be used to crosswalk a male shoe size to a female's? None of this adds up. But yet, without hesitation, I can tell you that today is our 15 month anniversary and I can tell you Roo's dress and shoe sizes. I won't though, so that the next 15 months start off as wonderful as the last 15 have been.

For Buxton on his Very First Birthday..

Some of you may remember this post where we welcomed baby boy Buxton to the world, first born to our dear friends Anna & John.

It's hard to believe it's been a year since this precious little monkey was put in my arms for the first time.

It's your very first birthday, Buxton,

One candle on your cake;

Proud parents stare in wonder

At each new move you make.

We join in celebration,

As this special date arrives,

For you have brought pleasure

Into all our lives.

We look forward now to seeing

How you progress and grow,

From the cute and tiny infant

You were one year ago.

So dig into your icing;

Enjoy your presents, too.

The reason for this day

Is a special person -- you!

Revised from original by Joanna Fuchs

Happy Birthday Roo!

To my wonderful and beautiful wife - every day with you is deserving of cake and ice cream. All the candles for all the birthday cakes in the world wouldn't create a flicker compared to the light that you shine in my life. Happy Birthday Roo!

The One that Got Away

On our annual Edisto trip, as Roo has already documented aspects of, I was reunited not only with my summer playmates Dusty and Morgan, but also with a long lost love for fishing. So reminded by the simple joy that comes with fishing that I hung a stuffed fish in our garage. I’ve always enjoyed fishing which is odd given my competitive nature, impatient tendencies and complete uncertainty of success that comes with fishing. Fishing is one of those things that make you feel closer to nature and more manly you feel when you reel in the big catch. And there’s always hope that the big one is still out there. No matter the size you nab (or don’t), you have no idea how much bigger the next one could be. Whether it was brother Mike and I riding our bikes down to Lufkin Pond to snare Blue Gills or Henry, PJ and I seeking 12 pound Pikes on the cold waters of Kenora, Canada, fishing has always been a hunt in the unknown. I’ve been hunting maybe twice in my life and didn’t enjoy it. You can’t shoot something you can’t see. But with fishing, what you can’t see may be the next big one. At the Edisto Marina, we got a great idea of what that big one might be at the weigh-in for the 1st Annual Edisto Fishing Club Shark Tournament. We don't quite have expectations this big...but whose to say aspirations aren't.

Riley’s dad and I have been determined to catch the next big one ever since I started attending the annual summer retreat with Roo’s family seven years ago. For the past two years, Ronnie and I have tried harder than we did in 2002. We’ve scoped out various docks, landings and creeks and chartered captains and boats. We’ve waded chest deep into the ocean while in over our heads with enthusiasm. What I like about our recent adventures only lures me back for more. But I am getting ahead of myself. On the last day of our vacation, we set out early on a chartered voyage. We put our squid and shrimp baited shortcomings of the previous trips of the week behind us and set out for some big game. We knew right away that we were on the right boat as our guide took us to shallow waters where St. Helena Sound meets Big Bay creek, where bonnethead sharks were nearly beaching themselves to get a morning snack. Into the water we tossed blue crab-baited hooks and out came a 17-pound relative to the hammerhead. Ronnie reeled it in. Later that night, while grilling our fresh catch along with some small Whiting fillets, Riley’s dad shared some rare quality time and conversation. It was mostly and pleasantly one-sided. Ronnie told me stories from his newlywed days, where he and Riley’s mom would take fishing trips on her grandfather’s pontoon on the Santee (River). He told other stories of Riley’s early adventures on the boat as well. For someone who doesn’t seem to talk very much, Riley’s dad is a great story teller. I look forward to telling our kids tales of these trips now. That said, Ronnie and I are going to have to really start reeling in some big fish. Or not. Like I said, with fishing, you don’t need something on the end of the line to necessarily have a good story. But Ronnie and I both agree having our own boat might help.

So for a week, I am the one that got away, away from it all: my inbox, cell phone reception, traffic; and got back to a childhood joy that I hope to grow in the coming year, connecting with my father-in-law, creating stories that we can pass down in vacations to come.

Exploring Botany Bay - A little piece of heaven on Edisto

We have several great highlights to share from our recent annual vacation on Edisto Island so we're going to split them into a few short posts rather than one long one.

Exploring Botany Bay

Botany Bay is a public wildlife reserve that was opened to the public last year. 4,630 coastal acres with moss-draped live oaks, sunflower-filled farm fields, a lake, the ruins of an 1800s plantation house and slave quarters, a couple of intact 1840s outbuildings and two miles of beach. We set out early one morning to take in this little piece of heaven on earth. Visitors to Botany Bay are asked not remove any shells, artifacts, or fossils from the beach unless you're 17 & under....we were able to convince Morgan (cousin) & Ian (Morgan's friend) both 17, to join us on our adventure since we knew we could possibly hit the shark tooth jackpot. Momma wasn't able to join us -- the walk out to the beach was nearly half a mile and she was feeling a little tired that morning.

I thought I'd spend the morning adding to our ever growing sharks' teeth collection but I was wrong. It wasn't because there weren't teeth to be found. I think it was because I was so amazed by the beauty that surrounded me and I wanted to leave it like I found it -- untouched. We all went our separate ways to explore the beach. I walked the water line and found myself talking to God --- thanking him for all the blessings he's given me and asking him to give us strength as we continue our battle against MM. I felt guilty asking Morgan to pick up a shark's tooth I spotted -- it was probably the biggest one I've ever found. I'm sure we'll explore Botany Bay next year -- we won't have anyone younger than 17 in our group to collect sharks' teeth for us -- that's okay though -- I'll enjoy the amazing untouched beach and another quite beach walk conversation with God.

The pictures don't do this place justice...

Happiness is where you find it and we always find it in Edisto...

Cancer can't keep the great sharks' tooth hunter away from the beach.

Greetings from Edisto Island! We're looking forward to a week of sun, sand, family, Whaleys, Scrabble, cornhole, fishing trips, Chairmen of the Board, and all things EDISTO!!

Thriller

When did we lose focus of what matters? Not to say anyone in particular has but as a collective whole, it seems "we" have become so obsessed with all things celebrity. I am not sure it started with John and Kate and it certainly won't end with the drama surrounding Steve McNair, but I guess over the past few weeks I seem to have noticed more and more the passion that pours in from the public over popular figures and their on-goings. Be it the public display of a governor's marital troubles or the worldwide weeping over the passing of a music icon, I just wish people exercised the same emotion towards matters in life that affected them more on an everyday basis.

Wouldn't we all just be thrilled to live in a world where strangers flocked to the funeral of a fallen soldier? Wouldn't we all just be thrilled to pass a school where a flash mob has formed to celebrate a career and recognize a retiring teacher? Wouldn't we all be just thrilled to live in a world where people prayed as much as they texted and tweeted? What if US Weekly's cover previewed the heroic story of a firefighter or brave tale of a police officer instead of always telling us who got arrested or fired?

I am not saying things we enjoy or follow or watch aren't important. If and when the Cubs make it to the World Series, you can all point to this post and ask me exactly where my priorities lie as I attempt to be part of something bigger than myself. Perhaps I am just worn down by the constant media coverage, the over-saturation of news feeds that are no doubt coming from significant events...it is just that I question how substantial they really are in relation to everything else going on around us.

I guess I'd just be thrilled if the news could start off with a good story every once and awhile. A good story about real people doing real and good things.

If you like Coke...or bottle rockets

It's the calm before the boom...red, white and boom that is. Roo and I are gearing up for our second annual Happy Birthday America party. I have spent the past week working on my new cornhole boards and seasoning the grill grates. Riley has been organizing the menu and guests and pretty much every other aspect of the event. We went shopping today, Roo always the bargain hunter and finder, I was blown away by our savings. If you happen to be in the market for Coca-Cola products and you are within 36 miles of a Harris Teeter, it is worth the trip. (I calculated the mileage and lowballed the fuel economy at 18 miles per gallon. Disclaimer: If you live more than 36 miles away, its not mathematically or financially worth the trip). With your "Very Important Customer" card at HT, when you buy 2 12-packs of coke products, you get 3 free. We paid for 4 and got 10, more soda in one trip than I think we purchased for all of 2008. Add that to the deeply discounted Boston butts (that Roo wrestled away from an old lady...ok, that's not quite how it went down, but I got a good laugh) and the other deals, we saved over $100 in groceries today. We are all set for this weekend's USA birthday bash and have made a sizable dent in the edible needs for our annual Edisto beach trip, only 10 days away. Expecting a considerable amount of guests on Saturday, I have yet to give the yard a work over and have yet to visit any of the hundreds of firework stands to add to our neighborhood arsonal. Fireworks are legal in South Carolina and given our proximity to the NC border, around this time of year, the roadside fireworks stands pop-up as quickly as dandelions and clover appear in your yard after spring's first good rainfall. Our cul-de-sac is renowned (at the homeowners association meeting) for putting on a big show. I plan to contribute which ultimately means one thing. Kennedy will end up in the bath tub.

Wishing We Were Somehow There Again

Its a lazy Saturday afternoon after a fairly productive Saturday morning. Roo found a deal on a treadmill on craigslist that has made a nice addition to our garage gym. I cut the grass...failing again in my attempt to cut a baseball field-like pattern into our yard...

...I admit I rushed through the job as I was racing the mercury. Its supposed to hit 100 degrees today. I'll give the grass a full-service treatment on July 3rd, in preparation for our 2nd Annual Red, White and Boom party. While I was sweating it out in the yard, Roo ran some last minute Father's Day errands. We rendezvoused in front of the TV for lunch and an afternoon Cubs game. The announcers noted that summer has arrived in Chicago and followed with a quip about the hot 81 degree day. I laughed. Roo admired the sunlit skyline on the screen and wished we were there, not recalling having been to a game in the heat of the summer. In the heat of our summer, we have yet to visit my brother Phil's community pool, but we will soon find our selves on the soft sands of Edisto Island. Our annual family trip is only 3 weeks away. We had to adjust the schedule this year to accommodate for Riley's mom's treatment schedule. Hopefully, while the trip for us will be an escape from work and weeds, Roo's mom will enjoy a much needed break in the exhausting treatment cycle. I wish we were there now.

Riley and I enjoyed Phil's Christmas wishes last night, as his holiday gift of two tickets to see Phantom of the Opera at Charlotte's Belk Theater came to fruition. Aside from school plays, this was only the second time I'd been to see a major musical, the first being Wicked in Chicago with Roo. Coming from a guy that spends many a lazy day in front of a Cubs game or playing on the Xbox, I wish we went to more plays like Phantom.

Phantom's opening scene presented an auction of old opera house items. As I type this, Roo is researching options to set up her own ebay auction-house. We missed out (snoozed through) the neighborhood yard sale a couple weeks ago and inspired by the treadmill find, Riley is going to try to clean out some room in the garage with some on-line sales. I wish her the best of luck, but hopes she patient. No rush...because the sooner she's got the garage cleared out, the sooner I have run out of excuses for not spending part of my lazy Saturday afternoon in our garage gym.

Mom's Myeloma Update

It's been awhile since I've updated everyone on my mom's battle with multiple myeloma. She's been in sort of a holding pattern over the last few months. Labs were good, bone marrow biopsy was good, therefore there was really no need to begin any sort of treatment. A few months ago she began having pain in her hip and was immediately sent in for a full body bone scan. It was determined that the hip pain was probably arthritis but during the scan a second tumor was found in her shoulder. If you've been keeping up with this story you know that her cancer was discovered because of a tumor found in her shoulder that was causing alot of pain which led to an MRI. She had radiation treatments to treat the first tumor. The second tumor signifies that the myeloma is progressing therefore more aggressive treatment is needed as opposed to radiation.
So last month the initial treatment began with oral chemo. The combination of medicines were causing allergic reactions and lab work concluded that the meds weren't really doing the job they needed to be doing. It was clear a new treatment plan would need to begin.

She'll now endure 16 cycles of induction chemo followed by a stem cell transplant. Her first chemo cocktail was Monday --- I was on duty for the first round. We attended a quick Chemo 101 session followed by an hour of fluids, Velcade, and Zometa. The room was filled with soft leather loungers and every chair was full. I sat there wondering to myself what kind of cancer each person was suffering from. I felt bad for the people who didn't have a loved one sitting with them. I wondered if the building architect thought that surrounding the room with floor to ceiling windows would help people forget that they're bodies are being filled with toxic drugs. The gigantic bird feeders positioned outside the windows were completely empty -- I wondered if they'd be filled by Thursday so my mom can sit by the window and watch the birds. I was mesmerized by the beautiful salt water fish tanks and pointed them out to my mom hoping she'd choose to sit closer to one of them next time I'm on duty. Due to her pretty pitiful veins she had to have a port put in this morning so her next round of chemo on Thursday should go a little smoother since the nurse won't have to poke and prod for a decent vein.

I never imagined I'd be going through something like this with someone I love. My mom is a tough cookie and in my heart I know we're going to get through this. I'm not naive enough to think it's not going to be a battle but I know it's a battle that my mom can fight surrounded by the people that love her. When she was diagnosed I really struggled with trying to find the reason that this was happening. I'm starting to realize that there probably isn't a reason but my personal struggle with dealing with this has brought me closer to God and helped me realize the importance of prayer and for that I'm grateful.

I've thought about starting a separate blog to chronicle our journey through chemo and the stem cell transplant. I'll leave that one up to my mom. So for now I'll keep everyone up to date on her progress here as long as everyone who reads this entry promises to add her to your prayer lists!