I am checking this site a bazillion times a day, hoping they post this year's Berry Street lecture. Everything I've read has me jumping up and down in anticipation.
Right after writing my below post on How Can I Keep From Singing, I checked a Wilms' friend's blog. About a month ago, they'd been told "It's growing and we don't know what else to do." Well, they found a brand new experimental chemo. Tuesday, they got the news that the tumors had shrunk by 50%. Even as I write that, I cry again. Their blog is filled with comments from others crying with joy. When friends rejoice both far and near, how can I keep from singing?
End of the semester, I couldn't wait for summer and a break. Already, I'm chomping at the bit to get back. I'm meeting my advisor today, to sign up for an Old Testament class and Principles of Preaching. Since the OT class is his, I'm hoping he'll tell me what books I need to get, so I can start reading them.
Yes, I am Hermione. What I'd give for a time turner! There's a class on church growth ...
I am packing to go up into the mountains. We had this trip all planned for last summer -- my crew, my parents, my brother and his wife, one of my husband's sisters. Of course, we had to cancel it last year because the cancer came back. I couldn't call and cancel. My heart just wouldn't let me. My mom canceled our reservation when she canceled hers.
Tuesday, we'll be there.
I'm packing: flyrod. Camera. Guitar. Clothes. French press. Bathing suit. (There's a hot tub outside our cabin.) Apples to Apples game. Kleenex. Because I'm probably going to burst into tears when I see the cabin.
At the hospital, there was a "calming" channel that played gentle music with video from nature. One bit of footage they ran often was a forest stream in the mountains. So I never put on that channel. Too symbolic of all that we were missing.
We were at the hospital yesterday. Dropping off cases of Girl Scout cookies that my glamorous sister-in-law donated to the cancer clinic. And getting one of LW's teeth checked. (She has to see a special dentist, due to chemo teeth.)
My gang of ruffians was with me. Sitting down for a quick snack, The Princess reminisced about the slumber parties we had there. "We even made cancer fun," she said.
That made me feel inordinately proud.