Pink Strings

In the middle of Grandpa's long drive through the desert last week was a stop at this place sort of in the middle of nowhere that had this band playing outside in their porch area.  Of course, I was delighted because they had a fellow chick bass player.  Well . . . she could actually play the bass.

She was such a rocker chick player she had pink strings.  I mean, how great is that?  I cannot imagine getting to a place where I was bold enough to have pink strings.  I don't think anyone should be looking at my strings or fingers right now.  In fact, I would prefer if no one looked at me because I fear it would be in alarm.  "What are you playing?  What have you done?  What note was that supposed to be?"  No, it's better if no one looks at me at all.

Snow Day

Is there any greater look of joy on a kid's face than when he hears school has been cancelled on account of bad weather?  If you know one, I will be glad to listen.  The victory is especially sweet when the announcement comes the night before, as it has to our house.

Yes, Minnesota has decided to act a little bit like Minnesota.

We spent the day in a blizzard watch counting our cans of tomato soup and shaking the milk jug to make sure there was an adequate supply.  As I write this we've been downgraded to a winter storm warning.  We'll have to wait and see.

We were so ready.  So ready to get out the big coats and the Sorrels.  So ready to have school called off.  So ready with the snow blower.  And it just never came.

So hearing the ring of our land line phone and our cell phones all at once, Colin  started to do a little dance.  He knew he would sleep the sleep of a teenager who has had a little reprieve.  The sleep of a guy who was owed one this week because his mother and father missed the date change of piano contests, and he got up at 6:30 am last Saturday morning for nothing. Now he'll have to get up at 6:30 am again this Saturday.

Oh, yes.  He was owed.

Pizza and an Organ

I want to clarify in case reader-friend Robyn wasn't the only one confused.  My trip to Arizona was to see my parents and had nothing to do with bone marrow donation.  I am still very early in the donation process.  They may find a better match or go with a different treatment option.  I am on sort of a hurry up and wait holding pattern.  I need to answer questions as quickly as possible and then I wait without really knowing what's happening.  That's okay.  They'll let me know if they need me.  Hopefully because of miraculous healing, they never will.

I also confused Robyn when I was trying to explain our trip to Organ Stop Pizza.  She thought it had something to do with organs (like liver or something) on the pizza, not music to accompany pizza.

Mom and Dad were really excited to go to Organ Stop Pizza, and I have to say I was a little skeptical.  Mom and Dad are easily amused.  So am I.  How do you think I got this way?  But organ music and pizza reminded me of Shakey's of my youth -- and I don't remember it being that great.  Well, Shakey's wasn't like this.

Look at that.  There's organ everywhere in this room.  There's so much more organ than you can see.  It was hard not to be impressed, especially when you are easily amused as we have established I am.  You can't see very well, but the bellows that really impressed my are in the lower left hand corner.  They are the size of beds.  Very fun.

There were lights too.  Very nice when he played Phantom of the Opera.  I don't know what to tell you.

And the pizza was good which made it all the better.

Back from the Desert and /or Dessert

A beautiful, darling angel-child traveled with me to Arizona.

Yeah, I know it looks like Preschooler D, but I am telling you I am just NOT sure.

This child never forgot to say please or thank you.
This child made grumpy looking air travelers smile.
This child charmed every person he encountered (including a fellow elevator traveler whom he thanked politely for pressing our floor button).
This child participated in all planned activities (including Grandpa's long drive in the desert) with nary a complaint.

Yes, I know he is very similar in appearance, but . . . well . . . back at home, my child has appeared again whining about how much time he gets on the Wii, and what he wants to eat, and if he has a choice about wearing snow boots.

I am just not convinced it is the same boy, but I had a great time with that other kid, no matter who he was.

In other news, I have made it past the first filter in the bone marrow donation process.  I was just reading again that there are several more filtering steps before donation, so just keep keep on cheering for that unknown person.

This Week

Saturday the family went to see Harold and the Purple Crayon at the Children's Theatre.  It was part of an exchange that they are doing with the Seattle Children's Theatre.  I thought it was lovely and gentle.  The guys found it a bit hippy-dippy, if you know what I mean.

Preschooler D did not want to go from the start.

"I like Florida and I like home,"  he announced from the backseat.

Well, don't we all, kid.

This week he and I are going on a trip to see Grandpa and Grandma in Phoenix. I hope he adds Arizona to his list of places he will go; otherwise, it's going to be a long four days.

Don't bother to come and steal the TV. Brent and Colin are staying behind.  If I get the chance, I'll let you how it's going, but as Grandma Malmberg used to say, "Expect me when you see me."

Math Class

Seventh grade pre-algebra has been making me crazy.  I ordered a couple of books so I could keep up.  Homework time with Colin requires a lot of concentration as it is without me going, "Yeah, I don't know."

Yesterday was "Muffins with Mom" day.  I never did find the muffins, but I did find Colin just before math class.  Colin goes to special ed math, and it's not what you remember from high school.  I don't remember anyone getting pulled out for math unless they were really, really behind.  There are three guys in Colin's class including Colin.  They are all doing grade level work but they can't do it -- for whatever reason -- in the classroom.

Colin was clearly the brains in the group (terribly, terribly biased), but his slower communication skills made this extra brain power useless.  The other guys are the brawn of the group.  I don't think anyone is going to be messing with their friend Colin.

We did a number of problems on little white boards.  I only led Colin astray once. We had to subtract a negative from a negative (or positive?) and I went the wrong way on the number line.  We got it figured out.  Hooray!

Then we were off to health class with my former gym teacher.  Hilarious.  Reminded me in two minutes why I would never sign on to any time travel that involved reliving junior high.  This has nothing to do with my former gym teacher and everything to do with junior high.

Good for Colin!  Good for me!

Marrow

I went to a small high school.  My graduating class had about 80 if I remember right.  We knew each other as small children.  Many of us know each other now.

Michele D was one of our sweet classmates. Michele is just a genuinely nice person with a positive outlook without getting all Pollyanna about it.  Two years ago she got physically tired beyond what was reasonable for a mother of two young children.  She had leukemia.  We watched her fight and cheered her through chemotherapy and radiation.  She needed a stem cell transplant and her brother was a miraculous match.  Something like 70 percent of recipients don't have a family match and must receive from a donor.  Michele got better and better.

And then she had a really bad earache.  The leukemia was in her brain.

How can a blood disease become a brain disease?  I have no clue other than it's weird and unfair, but that's what happened.  She has not written on her Caringbridge site since January.  She wrote about how much she hated being sick and losing her hair and being in bed and the pressure it put on her family.

She wrote about how much she loves her family.

I have been registered as a potential donor on the National Marrow Donor Program list since 1996.  I was barely married.  I had no children.  It seemed like a perfectly reasonable thing to do.  I have never been contacted about being someone's match -- until this week.

So far I have been through a brief health history.  If "my" patient needs me, I will be contacted in the next eight weeks.  I am compulsively driven by the love I feel for my own family and my long friendship with Michele to do now what seemed so long ago as "perfectly reasonable."

While I wait to hear, I am praying for my dear patient -- that it will not come to this, that there will be unreasonable, miraculous healing.  I am praying that if she or he needs me, I will be ready and that it will go smoothly and there will be healing through this.

I am praying for Michele -- for perfection in every area of her life right now.