Something must have been in the air today. Corey started off with an attitude and energy that was so bad, neither Madelyn nor Maisy wanted to be near him. Neither did I, but not the same as them, haha. Not sure what his deal was, but by the time we were on the road this morning, he seemed to have settled back down.
He had school today. When it was over, he reported having passed three tests. An hour or so later his teacher called to discuss his lack of progress. Thankfully, Mom was able to take Corey back so he could do some of the things he had claimed to have completed. Between his problems today and the fact that he's grounded indefinitely from the computer for checking out porn... again... and causing problems on our computer... again... I'm not clear why my mom let him play Civilization this afternoon.
Every school I stopped at today had something come up that took longer than expected. One stop was supposed to last about 10 minutes, max. Forty-five minutes later, I finally clawed my way out the door (okay, that's a wee exaggeration... I love that class and would have liked to stay longer, but my schedule was slammed).
The teachers I met with or spoke to on the phone had one drama after another. At one school, I arrived just as one student was being wheeled out of the classroom and into an ambulance. It had taken the school nurse two minutes to locate her pulse because she is over-medicated. Her foster mother stood there claiming it was "not medical, it's behavioral." Yeah, right. A mentally retarded girl is feigning being unconscious with a weak pulse. We all get that the girl is "hell on wheels" without medication, but I still want to know who put this woman in charge of kids?!?
When all was said and done, I went out to see Ken and Nance at the hospital. Another friend, Evie, was also there. I walked in and proceeded to put three masks on my head. One over my nose and mouth and the other two over my ears. I can't always make them laugh, but it worked today.
Nancy has requested that the doctors and nurses continue to give Ken blood products until he is unconscious. That way he will never feel like he gave up or was a quitter. After my shenanigans, I went over to greet Ken. He looked so sad. He was so sad. He knows things are not working. I asked if there was anything I could do for him, expecting that he would ask me to pray. Instead, he shook his head no and said there was nothing anybody could do. I held his hand and told him I loved him and we all just tried to breathe our way through the pain. Ken's concentration on his breathing reminded me of being in labor.
We got through the moment and talked about cars and yards. I held back from saying anything like, "When you come up and see the house... ," but those thoughts were still right there, even though I know he won't.
I'm not sure why there were no tissues in his room, but we all agreed that the toilet paper is soft and absorbent, and thank goodness for that.
Sometimes he pulled one knee up as he lay there. That's how he was when I walked in. I honestly didn't understand that it was his leg at first. I thought maybe he had some sort of device to keep the blankets off his legs. It didn't seem possible that it was his leg.
When their son and his fiancee arrived, I hit the road. The drive to get Corey was uneventful, but between Mom's (where Corey stays) and Dad's (where Mad goes), there had been some sort of pursuit and an entire neighborhood was blocked off. Sometimes it's really good that all of my voice mail messages don't get to me right away. Here's the one my dad left:
"Hi Sis, just wanted to let you know there's a lot of police activity in the area. They're looking for someone from a pursuit. Call me before you come over. All of our doors are locked, but we don't want you having any problems getting out of your car and maybe getting hurt or having your car taken."
Then in true, Mr. I'm-In-Control-of-the-Situation, he added, "But we're fine so don't worry."
Tom just arrived home from what he said was his worst softball game ever. The man never curses... apparently unless it's his worst softball game ever.
So it seems like the best thing to do right now is to shut this computer off, crawl into bed and pull the covers... and possibly the pillow... over my head.
Showing posts with label dying friend. Show all posts
Showing posts with label dying friend. Show all posts
Thursday, July 16, 2009
Friday, June 19, 2009
How Not To Have a Great Day
I got about three and a half hours of sleep last night. I probably only got that much because I went to bed early with a stomach ache. When Tom came to bed, I thought it was the crack of dawn and that he was getting up for work. I was wide awake. So I came down here to mess around for a little while. Four hours later I returned to bed in time for his alarm to go off. Three times. Worrying about missing my own alarm made it impossible to get back to sleep.
Corey, Mad and I managed to get out early enough for a stop at Starbucks before heading down the hill. And since there were no blinding blankets of fog in the pass, I even got to work about 35 minutes earlier than I'd anticipated.
The next three and a half hours were spent in a podcast training. By lunch some of the people had the software installed (step three out of about 117 on the agenda). As a rambling sort of speaker, I understand what was happening to the instructor, but great googly moogly! St. Fu, dude, St. Fu!
When I finally left the building to find lunch, I was on my own. I used some of that time to check in with Nance because Van Halen's "Jump" had just come on the radio. Ken loves Van Halen. He used to work with one of the brothers... a bazillion years or so ago.
Nancy has begun making a lot of the decisions that are going to come up over the next month or so. One of them being, "What songs do I put on the CD with the photos that will be shown at Ken's memorial once he passes?" My point had been that he should get some Van Halen, even if he's not going to "be there"... and yes, even if Nancy isn't the fan that Ken is. I tried to get her to put in "Hot for Teacher" since she does work in education. I was kidding. But what about Jump?! Isn't that sort of what he's doing here? Jumping from one plane to the next?
Why yes he is... and Nancy is having it as the last song.
In a heartbreaking way, my choosing this song for them is akin to the fact that Nancy chose the song that Tom and I danced to at our wedding: Celine Salon's "At Last." No joking when I say that Tom and I would have wagered any of our worldly possessions against the idea that Celine Dion would even get air time at our wedding, let alone be featured that way. We did searches for any version of At Last other than hers. Etta's? Too scratchy. Cyndi Lauper's? Guh! What the hell was that?!? Some no-name person I can't remember? Can't remember what was wrong with her version either... maybe that's the point. Nope, it had to be Celine. It has to be Van Halen.
***It occurs to me now that a post I thought I'd made earlier never really happened. So here's a brief update before I continue:
The other day Nancy called to tell me that Ken had taken a turn for the worse after our visit last Saturday night. I went to see him one afternoon this week. It worked out best for us all that I got there before Nancy and left when she arrived. Ken and I had deeper conversations than we ever have... probably than I've ever had with anybody, really. He was in so much pain and he let me call the nurse to get something for it (he was up in a chair and couldn't reach the button). A couple of times he mentioned how tired he was and that he just had to get stronger. I looked right at him, but he didn't make much eye contact during those moments. But boy did he get a little spark every time he said, "But I'm not quitting. I'm not giving up!" I told him I could see that in his eyes.
Ken said quietly that all the decisions had been made. My hearing's not excellent and despite the situation, it was out of context, so it took me a minute to grasp what he was saying. I just nodded. I told him that he has a lot of people who love him and who are praying for him. He nodded rather enthusiastically and said, "I know. It's a good thing too, it's the only hope I have right now."
It's times like these that I really wish I had a faith in something more than human abilities.
I really wanted to say so many things to Ken: Nancy will be okay no matter what happens. People around her will not let her hit the ground, we will lift her up no matter what happens. You will be okay, no matter what happens.
It does seem too much like telling someone that it's okay to die... when I don't have the right to give any sort of permission like that. But I wanted him to know... Nancy will be okay.
I didn't bring her up, but Ken did. He kept saying he doesn't want her to have to go through this.
"Yeah, well she feels the same way about you, ya know."
And then... somehow... I was able to say what seemed so important.
"You know, Ken, Nancy also has a lot of people who love her and who'll take care of her."
"I know. I know she does. Please keep an eye on her. I know you will. You do. You and a lot of people."
In the fog of the moment, I can't really remember if he asked me to promise or not. I just know that I did.
Somewhere in there, Nance called to say that she and Robin were almost there. They were taking my parking space because City of Hope is kind of a madhouse when it comes to parking.
So I gave Ken a couple of hugs and kisses through the mask I wore and promised, also, that I'd see him again.
It seems that I will have to be back out there very soon. Probably Monday.
When I spoke with Nance this afternoon she told me that she and their son, Kenny, met with the doctor. Her six year old granddaughter was in the car, so she had to be quite vague, but it seems that the main thing keeping Ken alive right now is the extreme frequency of blood and platelet transfusions. They aren't enough and he's losing the fight.
Kenny is getting married in August. Did I mention that already? He just got engaged a couple of weeks ago and asked Ken to be his best man. Ken won't be there. They're holding a commitment ceremony on Sunday in Ken's room. I guess the next day the doctor will talk with Ken about ending the transfusions.
How does a person... or a team of people in this case... decide which one will be the last? I can't express how relieved I am not to be part of that team. I do understand why it's the best thing for Ken... and probably Nancy... but I'm still... relieved.
One of the things I did after visiting Ken the other day was to contact someone from a local hospice agency that Nance and I work with through our program at work. I went there seeking guidance. How do you help the friend who knows she's too independent for her own good at times?
"What can I do for her? I can see that she's created a protective wall around herself and I don't want to be pushy, but I want her to know I'm her for anything she needs."
"The easiset and the hardest advice is to just be the best 'you' you can be."
"I can do that... my role with Nance has always been to make her laugh. It's not as easy as it once was, but sometimes I can pull it off without being too slapstick."
"Tell her she's doing a good job."
Today I got to tell her. It was all I could do to keep myself together and get the words out so she could hear them. I managed it. Barely. Long enough to get off the phone.
By then there were about 15 minutes before training resumed. I had a mini break-down on the balcony, pulled myself together as best I could and went back to the computer lab. A room full of people who know Nance and know what's going on. One woman saw my red nose and asked, "Shannon, have you heard anything more from Nancy?"
All I could do was put my hands up to stop the words from coming out of her mouth. Nothing was coming out of mine. I looked down and started to log in, but felt the tears coming hot and heavy, so I got up and left. And left my purse in there. I thought about texting one of my friends to bring it out, but of course my cell was in there, too. After nearly 20 minutes hiding in an alcove at the end of a hall, I made my way to my desk.
Since I did have other jobs I could do out of the office, I called one of the secretaries and asked her to go get it for me.
"I won't be disrupting them if I go in there right now?"
"Yes, a little, but not as much as I will if I go in there." Yeah, make it sound like I had a hissy fit or something. Way to go. "I'll explain when you get here."
Instead of the secretary, the woman who brought my purse was the one who had asked. We hugged and had a little talk before I sent her back in and headed off to finish up what has turned out to be pretty high on the list of saddest days ever.
Corey, Mad and I managed to get out early enough for a stop at Starbucks before heading down the hill. And since there were no blinding blankets of fog in the pass, I even got to work about 35 minutes earlier than I'd anticipated.
The next three and a half hours were spent in a podcast training. By lunch some of the people had the software installed (step three out of about 117 on the agenda). As a rambling sort of speaker, I understand what was happening to the instructor, but great googly moogly! St. Fu, dude, St. Fu!
When I finally left the building to find lunch, I was on my own. I used some of that time to check in with Nance because Van Halen's "Jump" had just come on the radio. Ken loves Van Halen. He used to work with one of the brothers... a bazillion years or so ago.
Nancy has begun making a lot of the decisions that are going to come up over the next month or so. One of them being, "What songs do I put on the CD with the photos that will be shown at Ken's memorial once he passes?" My point had been that he should get some Van Halen, even if he's not going to "be there"... and yes, even if Nancy isn't the fan that Ken is. I tried to get her to put in "Hot for Teacher" since she does work in education. I was kidding. But what about Jump?! Isn't that sort of what he's doing here? Jumping from one plane to the next?
Why yes he is... and Nancy is having it as the last song.
In a heartbreaking way, my choosing this song for them is akin to the fact that Nancy chose the song that Tom and I danced to at our wedding: Celine Salon's "At Last." No joking when I say that Tom and I would have wagered any of our worldly possessions against the idea that Celine Dion would even get air time at our wedding, let alone be featured that way. We did searches for any version of At Last other than hers. Etta's? Too scratchy. Cyndi Lauper's? Guh! What the hell was that?!? Some no-name person I can't remember? Can't remember what was wrong with her version either... maybe that's the point. Nope, it had to be Celine. It has to be Van Halen.
***It occurs to me now that a post I thought I'd made earlier never really happened. So here's a brief update before I continue:
The other day Nancy called to tell me that Ken had taken a turn for the worse after our visit last Saturday night. I went to see him one afternoon this week. It worked out best for us all that I got there before Nancy and left when she arrived. Ken and I had deeper conversations than we ever have... probably than I've ever had with anybody, really. He was in so much pain and he let me call the nurse to get something for it (he was up in a chair and couldn't reach the button). A couple of times he mentioned how tired he was and that he just had to get stronger. I looked right at him, but he didn't make much eye contact during those moments. But boy did he get a little spark every time he said, "But I'm not quitting. I'm not giving up!" I told him I could see that in his eyes.
Ken said quietly that all the decisions had been made. My hearing's not excellent and despite the situation, it was out of context, so it took me a minute to grasp what he was saying. I just nodded. I told him that he has a lot of people who love him and who are praying for him. He nodded rather enthusiastically and said, "I know. It's a good thing too, it's the only hope I have right now."
It's times like these that I really wish I had a faith in something more than human abilities.
I really wanted to say so many things to Ken: Nancy will be okay no matter what happens. People around her will not let her hit the ground, we will lift her up no matter what happens. You will be okay, no matter what happens.
It does seem too much like telling someone that it's okay to die... when I don't have the right to give any sort of permission like that. But I wanted him to know... Nancy will be okay.
I didn't bring her up, but Ken did. He kept saying he doesn't want her to have to go through this.
"Yeah, well she feels the same way about you, ya know."
And then... somehow... I was able to say what seemed so important.
"You know, Ken, Nancy also has a lot of people who love her and who'll take care of her."
"I know. I know she does. Please keep an eye on her. I know you will. You do. You and a lot of people."
In the fog of the moment, I can't really remember if he asked me to promise or not. I just know that I did.
Somewhere in there, Nance called to say that she and Robin were almost there. They were taking my parking space because City of Hope is kind of a madhouse when it comes to parking.
So I gave Ken a couple of hugs and kisses through the mask I wore and promised, also, that I'd see him again.
It seems that I will have to be back out there very soon. Probably Monday.
When I spoke with Nance this afternoon she told me that she and their son, Kenny, met with the doctor. Her six year old granddaughter was in the car, so she had to be quite vague, but it seems that the main thing keeping Ken alive right now is the extreme frequency of blood and platelet transfusions. They aren't enough and he's losing the fight.
Kenny is getting married in August. Did I mention that already? He just got engaged a couple of weeks ago and asked Ken to be his best man. Ken won't be there. They're holding a commitment ceremony on Sunday in Ken's room. I guess the next day the doctor will talk with Ken about ending the transfusions.
How does a person... or a team of people in this case... decide which one will be the last? I can't express how relieved I am not to be part of that team. I do understand why it's the best thing for Ken... and probably Nancy... but I'm still... relieved.
One of the things I did after visiting Ken the other day was to contact someone from a local hospice agency that Nance and I work with through our program at work. I went there seeking guidance. How do you help the friend who knows she's too independent for her own good at times?
"What can I do for her? I can see that she's created a protective wall around herself and I don't want to be pushy, but I want her to know I'm her for anything she needs."
"The easiset and the hardest advice is to just be the best 'you' you can be."
"I can do that... my role with Nance has always been to make her laugh. It's not as easy as it once was, but sometimes I can pull it off without being too slapstick."
"Tell her she's doing a good job."
Today I got to tell her. It was all I could do to keep myself together and get the words out so she could hear them. I managed it. Barely. Long enough to get off the phone.
By then there were about 15 minutes before training resumed. I had a mini break-down on the balcony, pulled myself together as best I could and went back to the computer lab. A room full of people who know Nance and know what's going on. One woman saw my red nose and asked, "Shannon, have you heard anything more from Nancy?"
All I could do was put my hands up to stop the words from coming out of her mouth. Nothing was coming out of mine. I looked down and started to log in, but felt the tears coming hot and heavy, so I got up and left. And left my purse in there. I thought about texting one of my friends to bring it out, but of course my cell was in there, too. After nearly 20 minutes hiding in an alcove at the end of a hall, I made my way to my desk.
Since I did have other jobs I could do out of the office, I called one of the secretaries and asked her to go get it for me.
"I won't be disrupting them if I go in there right now?"
"Yes, a little, but not as much as I will if I go in there." Yeah, make it sound like I had a hissy fit or something. Way to go. "I'll explain when you get here."
Instead of the secretary, the woman who brought my purse was the one who had asked. We hugged and had a little talk before I sent her back in and headed off to finish up what has turned out to be pretty high on the list of saddest days ever.
Monday, June 15, 2009
We Interrupt This Story For a Trip to Vegas
Yeah, baby, yeah! A trip to Vegas with Tom's best friend, Joel and his wife, Sharon. Joel's sister and brother-in-law, Karen and Bob (?... Bill? I really should know this since we're back), rounded out the group.
We were both pretty excited to be having our first overnight trip without children since being pregnant. Neither of us could wait!!
Okay, really the conversations went more like this:
(A week before the mini vacay) "What do you mean you paid for it now instead of just making a reservation?!? I paid extra bills this week so we'll be free and clear next week."
(Two days before) "They're not leaving Vegas until that afternoon?! So what time do you see us leaving? Two or three?!?!?! We'll be driving all night!!
Ugh! I can be so freaking whiney.
(The day before) "Listen, I know I'm turning into some sort of cranky old person and it's gotta stop. We can stay until they're at the airport. I mean, really, how often do these chances come up? Right?"
Thank god I can pull it together in a pinch.
One thing I'd used in my arguments for moving to this area is that we are 45 minutes closer to Vegas. Of course that's a damn lie if the grandparents are watching the kids and the dog at two separate houses back down the hill. In reality, we are an additional hour and a half away from Vegas. Thursday morning Tom and I were up well before the butt-crack of dawn and halfway down the hill before daylight. Kids and puppy were dropped off, the car was fueled up and away we went.
We had conversations (yeah... with an S) almost the whole way up. Tom had loaded up some CDs to listen to and we didn't even put one in until we hit state line. And then the one he chose was something he'd brought of mine!
The room was great, the bed was comfortable, the view was of the pool and Eiffel Tower at the Paris. Sharon and Joel were lots of fun. Everything was all hoohoolala until we met up with Karen and Bob (I'm going with Bob unless I hear otherwise). Seriousness presides over the blackjack table, dontcha know.
I'm not a gambler, and paying for the room in advance really did a number on our finances because of the bills I'd also paid, so throwing money at a game I rarely play isn't my gig. But I did have a great time hanging out with Tom and Joel. There wasn't a lot of conversation, and I didn't want to start any and ruin someone's concentration. Sharon was off playing slots and Bob (?) was doing his own thing.
Karen seemed okay at first, but then it turned out that almost every time I said or did anything, she sneered. Talk about a killjoy. I even took a picture of the group as we waited to go upstairs for dinner and she sneered then, too. It's photographic evidence, but I'd rather be able to wonder if I was imagining things. I understand making judgements about people and that we all get to choose our friends, etc. But what the hell? Have a little class; at least try to be subtle! Tom says that Karen doesn't seem to get him either, and that Karen and Joel's mom always gives the sense of disapproval or disappointment.
And what's with stating that "dinner will be casual, right? No getting dressed up," (exactly... we're going to Margaritaville) and then going up to her room and putting on a shiny blouse and heels?!? Tom said, "Maybe she didn't think she was dressed up."
Oh please. She's a woman. She knows the rules!
I was telling my sign class about her and gave her a name sign that clearly demonstrated my thoughts about her. The topic of that segment was "people who irritate you." Next week we'll balance things out by talking about people who enrich us. The anti-Karens, if you will.
Aside from Karen, the trip was a lot of fun. No, we didn't win any money; we lost it, but no more than we'd allotted. Madelyn got a cool train made of wooden blocks from FAO Schwarz (outlet?... not sure, but I was kind of disappointed in the selection) and Corey got an outfit from the Gap. The parents got thank yous in the form of candles and bath stuff. Can you tell I'm not really into the tourist crap? Happy me that Sharon loves to shop more than she loves to play the slots.
The trip home was equally fabulous. Tom and I have decided that I should drive to our vacations (when I'm all perky) and he should drive home (when he's trying to delay the inevitable). It worked really well.
Saturday evening we went out to City of Hope to see Ken. I figured I'd go alone, but Tom wanted to go, too, so we all went after Mad's (latest ending) nap (ever! naturally). He was readmitted about 10 days ago. In the span of less than 24 hours the leukemia was deemed to be present again (along with pneumonia) and had gone from 10% to 17%. His white cells are at 1 (I believe that means 1000, with normal being 140,000). The course of action now is comfort and finding a non-home hospice service.
Most of our hospices here are in-home. Nance has already cared for her mother-in-law through her death from cancer and neither she or Ken are especially eager to make her go through it again.
Their son is recently engaged and planning an August wedding. The doctor has asked the family to consider moving the date up. In the meantime, a commitment ceremony will be held on Father's Day at the hospital.
Is there any good news? Well, for some reason, Ken looks really great. He's gained 15 pounds since being there. Nance said it's because of IV fluids and steroids, and that it's harder to reconcile the fact that he might not be here in two weeks to a month because of how good he looks. Yeah, he's weak and shaky, but he sounds like himself. And his goatee is growing in dark instead of white like it would have before the chemo. So in a weird way, he looks younger, not at all old and gaunt like I'd expected.
Part of me... an embarrassingly large part... seems to be emotionally sheltered. I guess this is what denial feels like.
I have to say that I'm proud of Corey for going up to visit Ken. Madelyn couldn't even be on that floor. Tom and I figured we'd take turns hanging out with the kids, but Corey went up with me and even spoke!
Rounding out our weekend, we went and saw Rent last night. My niece performed with her high school drama group. It was closing night and everybody'd been fighting something, from fever and nausea to sore throats. Sarah and her classmates did an amazing job. There were one or two times when it seemed apparent that someone's voice might not make it, but they always recovered. I am not being biased when I say that Sarah was one of the best, most consistent performers. The play was very well done... I really did laugh and cry. Twice. And I wasn't alone.
And it wasn't the sort of crying Corey used to do when I'd try to sing him to sleep, "No song, wahhh!" I'd switch to humming and get a sobbing, "No hmm-hmm!!" It's clear that Sara does not get her voice from me, lucky girl. If I get any videos, I'll post them here. I took several photos with my expensive camera that I can't stand (the feelings are mutual, trust me). Almost all are blurry.
We were all curious about how "bad" the play would be, considering the subject matter. The only negative that any of us came up with was from Corey, "I couldn't watch Sarah dance like that. I had to avert my eyes." Honestly, I'm not sure what he was talking about. It wasn't like plays at my high school, but it wasn't outside the bounds of decency to me.
I know. Look who's talking.
So, many late nights and lots of highs and lows. But it was a good weekend. I wish it could have gone on a little longer.
We were both pretty excited to be having our first overnight trip without children since being pregnant. Neither of us could wait!!
Okay, really the conversations went more like this:
(A week before the mini vacay) "What do you mean you paid for it now instead of just making a reservation?!? I paid extra bills this week so we'll be free and clear next week."
(Two days before) "They're not leaving Vegas until that afternoon?! So what time do you see us leaving? Two or three?!?!?! We'll be driving all night!!
Ugh! I can be so freaking whiney.
(The day before) "Listen, I know I'm turning into some sort of cranky old person and it's gotta stop. We can stay until they're at the airport. I mean, really, how often do these chances come up? Right?"
Thank god I can pull it together in a pinch.
One thing I'd used in my arguments for moving to this area is that we are 45 minutes closer to Vegas. Of course that's a damn lie if the grandparents are watching the kids and the dog at two separate houses back down the hill. In reality, we are an additional hour and a half away from Vegas. Thursday morning Tom and I were up well before the butt-crack of dawn and halfway down the hill before daylight. Kids and puppy were dropped off, the car was fueled up and away we went.
We had conversations (yeah... with an S) almost the whole way up. Tom had loaded up some CDs to listen to and we didn't even put one in until we hit state line. And then the one he chose was something he'd brought of mine!
The room was great, the bed was comfortable, the view was of the pool and Eiffel Tower at the Paris. Sharon and Joel were lots of fun. Everything was all hoohoolala until we met up with Karen and Bob (I'm going with Bob unless I hear otherwise). Seriousness presides over the blackjack table, dontcha know.
I'm not a gambler, and paying for the room in advance really did a number on our finances because of the bills I'd also paid, so throwing money at a game I rarely play isn't my gig. But I did have a great time hanging out with Tom and Joel. There wasn't a lot of conversation, and I didn't want to start any and ruin someone's concentration. Sharon was off playing slots and Bob (?) was doing his own thing.
Karen seemed okay at first, but then it turned out that almost every time I said or did anything, she sneered. Talk about a killjoy. I even took a picture of the group as we waited to go upstairs for dinner and she sneered then, too. It's photographic evidence, but I'd rather be able to wonder if I was imagining things. I understand making judgements about people and that we all get to choose our friends, etc. But what the hell? Have a little class; at least try to be subtle! Tom says that Karen doesn't seem to get him either, and that Karen and Joel's mom always gives the sense of disapproval or disappointment.
And what's with stating that "dinner will be casual, right? No getting dressed up," (exactly... we're going to Margaritaville) and then going up to her room and putting on a shiny blouse and heels?!? Tom said, "Maybe she didn't think she was dressed up."
Oh please. She's a woman. She knows the rules!
I was telling my sign class about her and gave her a name sign that clearly demonstrated my thoughts about her. The topic of that segment was "people who irritate you." Next week we'll balance things out by talking about people who enrich us. The anti-Karens, if you will.
Aside from Karen, the trip was a lot of fun. No, we didn't win any money; we lost it, but no more than we'd allotted. Madelyn got a cool train made of wooden blocks from FAO Schwarz (outlet?... not sure, but I was kind of disappointed in the selection) and Corey got an outfit from the Gap. The parents got thank yous in the form of candles and bath stuff. Can you tell I'm not really into the tourist crap? Happy me that Sharon loves to shop more than she loves to play the slots.
The trip home was equally fabulous. Tom and I have decided that I should drive to our vacations (when I'm all perky) and he should drive home (when he's trying to delay the inevitable). It worked really well.
Saturday evening we went out to City of Hope to see Ken. I figured I'd go alone, but Tom wanted to go, too, so we all went after Mad's (latest ending) nap (ever! naturally). He was readmitted about 10 days ago. In the span of less than 24 hours the leukemia was deemed to be present again (along with pneumonia) and had gone from 10% to 17%. His white cells are at 1 (I believe that means 1000, with normal being 140,000). The course of action now is comfort and finding a non-home hospice service.
Most of our hospices here are in-home. Nance has already cared for her mother-in-law through her death from cancer and neither she or Ken are especially eager to make her go through it again.
Their son is recently engaged and planning an August wedding. The doctor has asked the family to consider moving the date up. In the meantime, a commitment ceremony will be held on Father's Day at the hospital.
Is there any good news? Well, for some reason, Ken looks really great. He's gained 15 pounds since being there. Nance said it's because of IV fluids and steroids, and that it's harder to reconcile the fact that he might not be here in two weeks to a month because of how good he looks. Yeah, he's weak and shaky, but he sounds like himself. And his goatee is growing in dark instead of white like it would have before the chemo. So in a weird way, he looks younger, not at all old and gaunt like I'd expected.
Part of me... an embarrassingly large part... seems to be emotionally sheltered. I guess this is what denial feels like.
I have to say that I'm proud of Corey for going up to visit Ken. Madelyn couldn't even be on that floor. Tom and I figured we'd take turns hanging out with the kids, but Corey went up with me and even spoke!
Rounding out our weekend, we went and saw Rent last night. My niece performed with her high school drama group. It was closing night and everybody'd been fighting something, from fever and nausea to sore throats. Sarah and her classmates did an amazing job. There were one or two times when it seemed apparent that someone's voice might not make it, but they always recovered. I am not being biased when I say that Sarah was one of the best, most consistent performers. The play was very well done... I really did laugh and cry. Twice. And I wasn't alone.
And it wasn't the sort of crying Corey used to do when I'd try to sing him to sleep, "No song, wahhh!" I'd switch to humming and get a sobbing, "No hmm-hmm!!" It's clear that Sara does not get her voice from me, lucky girl. If I get any videos, I'll post them here. I took several photos with my expensive camera that I can't stand (the feelings are mutual, trust me). Almost all are blurry.
We were all curious about how "bad" the play would be, considering the subject matter. The only negative that any of us came up with was from Corey, "I couldn't watch Sarah dance like that. I had to avert my eyes." Honestly, I'm not sure what he was talking about. It wasn't like plays at my high school, but it wasn't outside the bounds of decency to me.
I know. Look who's talking.
So, many late nights and lots of highs and lows. But it was a good weekend. I wish it could have gone on a little longer.
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