Tuesday, April 27, 2010

"Perfectly Stable!"

My doctor didn't waste any time bringing the good news! In fact, she said I could come back "in three or four months," depending on my schedule, so I have earned my longest interval between scans!

Monday, April 26, 2010


Tomorrow is MRI day for me and the beginning of two days of TAKS testing for my son. My test is a lot easier for many reasons:

1. My test requires a nap in a tube for about an hour, followed by several hours of waiting until my doctor gets the radiologist's report. Jacob's tests go for two days, and we won't know the results for several weeks.

2. The absolute worst outcome of my test would be a heads-up that I am dying, which is something that we already know will happen to all of us. The absolute worst outcome for Jake would be repeating the third grade (which to him is a fate worse than death).

3. Thinking about my son's TAKS test will not change the outcome of my MRI. But thinking about Mom's MRI could distract Jake and affect the outcome of his test. Fortunately, his most critical test is on Wednesday, which we hope will be after we've celebrated a good result.

4. I am well-acquainted with the prayer cushion that has supported me for more than four years. It has calmed and sustained me through good news and bad news. My son may not have as many people praying for him. (However, I'll be compensating for any gap with my own prayers on his behalf!)

So his is a little harder than mine. But the good news is that we'll both deal with whatever comes from these tests. And in a hundred years, we might not even remember that we had them!

Monday, April 12, 2010

Another twelfth!

I have counted off fifty-two "twelfths" on the calendar, and hope to count off many more. Another month of survival under my belt!

Speaking of belts, our family spent Saturday in a karate tournament in Houston. It was my daughter's first year to compete, and it was the second year for the rest of us. With half my brain tied behind my back, I did one of my favorite black belt forms in the kata competition. It went over like a lead balloon (probably because that's what I looked like in my black uniform) but I was happy to be out there, alive and kicking. I didn't win, but I earned some great feedback from the judge and proved that I still had memory and balance.

The rest of my family (those who are allowed to get hit in the head) competed in sparring, and each of them won 4th place in their respective divisions. In each case they had an uphill battle, fighting against people who were older or bigger (or both). It was daunting to face an opponent who was bigger and tougher, but I was happy to see them fight through their fear. My son used the same approach again to win second place in his kata competition. He was the youngest in his group, and he later said that he made some mistakes in his performance, but he kept going as though nothing could stop him. And nothing did! It was a good lesson for any uphill battle in life.

Thursday, April 08, 2010

Deja vu all over again

This wasn't the beginning of a seizure. It's one of my favorite Yogi Berra phrases.

Today I registered my daughter for kindergarten. It seems like only yesterday when I was filling out my son's kindergarten registration forms, writing the same information in response to "Are there any special things we should know about your child?" ("Please be sensitive to the fact that Mom has cancer.") Back then I wondered who would be filling out these forms for my daughter, who was an infant at the time.

Glad to discover that it would be me!