Good ridance 2007

It's New Year's Eve. There's not many words that my mother would approve of in trying to articulate my feelings about the 2007 year, right now. It has been the absolute longest year of my entire life. True, so true, we've been blessed and it is a miracle we have survived, but right now, I am tired and whiney. I want to be done. I want my husband back, and I'm enjoying this puddle of self pity oozing out of my eyeballs. I'm sick of 2007. I'm going to bed till it's over and done with. So there.

An invitation

I am grateful M. was able to volunteer at the temple open house this morning. They asked for volunteers a month ago, but I really didn't think there would be any chance we would be here. She helped people with their booties, so I guess you could call it bootie duty. :) It's nice she could go last minute.

We've been asked to invite our friends to the open house of the Rexburg temple. There are tours every day for the whole month of January. So, if any of you are interested, if you can get here, I will arrange housing and transportation for you to come to the open house. This invitation is not only to my personal friends, but to all you lurkers. Perhaps, you are coming from the psc support group, or from somewhere else. No matter, I only know the city where you log in from, and there is a good lot of you. You, yes you, are sincerely invited as it truly would be an experience you would never forget, and an opportunity that may never present itself so openly, again. My cell # is 208.201.4615. We would be honored to have you.

We woke to 8 inches of new, fluffy snow up at the cabin. As my mother would say, "If the bunnies farted in the same direction, we would be snowed in tight." With the issued severe storm warning, the last thing we want is to be trapped in a remote cabin with no hope of rescue till Monday. The snow on the road was was already deep enough to be shoving it up, over the hood of our van as we plowed thru to the main road, and it was still coming down. No one else was waiting for a transplant call, so they didn't mind getting snowed in. It was just a bummer to drag the kids out of a really good party.

So, it's a snow day. We'll have a good breakfast for dinner, to make up for skipping it this morning, and build with legos till we've used every single one. Any kids that need to bicker can take their energies out on the drifted driveway. It should be a fine day.

An unusually good day.

The kids cleaned their rooms really well, under the threat of staying home from the big family retreat, this weekend. They are so excited, I am pretty sure I could squeeze a clean house out of them before we leave tomorrow.

So I am told, pregnant persons and liver transplant hopefuls get their own room at the cabin. Thank goodness, none of my sisters are pregnant and have to share a room with Scott. :) I know Jan and Leah have worked hard to get it all together, thank you.

Tomorrow, Scott's MELD score jumps to 28. I hope it's high enough to get us to transplant. Hopefully, we are #1 when we get the next call. I don't know if I can handle being #2, again.

It was a really nice day. We went out to Applebee's for dinner, where C. announced, "I burped-ed up my nose, and it's yelling, HOT! HOT!" The kids really enjoyed their food: mini-hamburgers, mac-n-cheese, and a grilled cheese sandwich. M. chose a more sophisticated shrimp pasta dish and loved it. My food was good, but Scott does not ever wish to eat at Applebee's, again.

I think that the next time we go out it will be on a Wednesday, when the kids meals are only $.99. If we leave Scott home, and M. and I share a huge dish, it would, overall, cost the same as McDonalds; but I wouldn't have to eat really nasty food.

As predicted, Christmas morning was great fun, and we went out to my parent's house for the big family party.

I purchased wood, IKEA boxes that screw and nail together. It's been great fun to assemble them with the kids. I love that it's the hands-on things that they like the very most, the crafts and legos.

C. is quite happy with her new backpack of games. She's at that magic age where she understands rules, and fair play, but doesn't care who wins. I didn't anticipate her being so good at Memory. I probably just forgot how bad I am at Memory.

It took 15 minutes max to take down the tree, decorations and clean up the Christmas morning mess, today. Months of preparation and anticipation were vwupped, sucked tight, into a big rubbermaid container, and shut away for another year. Maybe, I should have left it up a bit longer. Instead of a holiday mess, it is a dismally, normal mess.

Scott surfaces occasionally from the computer room or napping, mumbling something about wanting a liver. He hasn't been sleeping at all, and doesn't feel good. I would take him in for IV fluids, but for today, he refuses. There's not much I can do for him. So, I think............. I think I am going to have to ignore him and keep playing with the kids. He usually does better if I am not hovering, anyway. At least, he had a good day, yesterday.

just this one thing

I talked with the transplant coordinator last Friday. She said that the people who are being transplanted right now have MELD's of 30 or higher (Scott's is only 25). They recently lost a man who's MELD was over 50. Considering how very sick a person is with a natural MELD over 20, 50 is past my comprehension of pain and suffering. Scott is uncomfortable, well, sometimes downright miserable, but he is stable. He's not dying. We are both feeling more content to wait.

N. was on a war path all day, determined to find every reason not to be her jolly self. She turned sweet, though, for snuggles at bedtime. She asked me what I wanted for Christmas. It gave me the perfect opportunity to share with her my wish, my deepest heart's wish, and was followed by the most honest and sincere conversation we have ever had. It's something I don't want to ever forget.

My aching desire is for my children to understand how to qualify for grace. I want them to know, to taste, how easy it is to pray, read the scriptures, and keep the basic commandments. If they are diligent in these little things, they can pray with complete confidence, knowing God will hear and answer their prayers; and thru the atonement, their best efforts will be made complete. It's the absolute core of Christianity, and I was clueless about it most of my life. If I could give just this one thing, grace, to my children, I know they will make it no matter what.

Christmas promises to be great fun. C. still believes and loves Santa as much as she loves Jesus. N. wrote an apology letter to Santa, nervous that I might follow thru on the threat of giving her presents to the homeless shelter. M. went to bed confident her stash was safe, having lavishly brown-nosed the North Pole all day. A. was the only one awake when two big bags of gifts appeared on the doorstep and proclaimed it to be a Christmas miracle. Very fun.

I have a compulsion. Any book I start to read, I have to finish before I can set it down. Fortunately, I can read really fast, but I have to be careful of what I pick up. It would be better if I could remember, for more than a day, what I read. The advantage of having such poor retention is that every book is new until after the third, or even fourth, time I read it.

So, last night was spent with a book. Today was spent before it began, but I still managed to get what needed to be done, done.

Scott had a good day. The new medication for gastritis seems to be helping quite a lot, making it well worth the investment. He has slept the last 2 nights.

A special thanks to all our family and friends, who have been so kind to provide much needed diversions these last few weeks. Thank you, thank you. I hope you know how much we love and appreciate you.

pure torture

Our surgeon thinks Scott has gastritis. Gastritis translates easily to: "I don't know what it is, but try taking some really expensive medicine for it." I'm hoping it will help, because I need him to be reasonably comfortable, and at least sleep at night. Ok, ok...... so I can sleep at night.

Today, I was kidnapped by sweet friends, forced to eat good food, and shop clearance racks at Kohl's. Torture, pure torture; I can hardly wait for it to happen, again.

Replaced by a blog

I think it awkward to run into your psychiatrist in a public setting. Someone, with that much inside information on other people, shouldn't be let out. I haven't seen him for quite a while. Perhaps, I should tell him............ he's been replaced by a blog.

Ironically, I sorely needed some sanity, today. So, I went to the temple. I love working in the temple. I love how the searing weight on my heart peels off and is replaced with simple contentment. There's no medication on earth that can duplicate it. It's a sweet relief I don't find anywhere else.

Scott's dad took him to get more IV fluids, today. He is feeling better, but doesn't feel good. I wish I knew if something were wrong; something that needed to be taken care of. Things don't feel quite right, but his symptoms are so vague and his labs are fine.

without a clue, but still caring........... well, mostly

Someone, who is stressed way past the point of caring, might seriously consider running naked thru the streets, yelling; "SAVE ME, SAVE ME", as a way to shift the stress to something less critical than what is actually going on.

I'm clearly not to that point, yet. Just in pondering such behavior, I have to poke out my own mind's eye, so I really do care. I must be getting closer, though, to be thinking about it.

Scott is no longer in pain, but has been terribly miserable with nausea and vomiting. I'm so grateful I took him, this morning, for labs and IV fluids. Otherwise, I would be taking him to the dreaded ER tonight. His labs are really good, so I guess we will wait and see what happens.

This situation gets so stressful, I think I am going to pop. But then, I remember this morning. I remember even writing, "God is with us.", and it becomes a big, "Oooooh! I get it. It's another: get strengthened, then flattened, cycle". I shouldh've seen this one coming. At least I can be grounded, without a doubt, that God is in charge and knows what is going on, even if I don't have a clue.

It's difficult for me to lay aside sarcasm, but I must for just a moment.

I'm so grateful for prayer. It's such a gift from God. What a privilege to pray for help and receive help, sometimes instantly; or pray for strength and walk with humble confidence that it will be provided. Grace given thru the atonement is so real and so precious, all this seems a steep, but worthy price to know and feel that.

With Scott in so much pain this morning, I got the kids off to school and made arrangements for C. to go to the neighbors. I called our good friends to give Scott a priesthood blessing, and braced myself for today's battle.

Scott knelt down and prayed for the pain to be taken, and it was, instantly. He was significantly improved by the time Hyrum and Tahari arrived, and was given a blessing of peace and strength; that these trials are specifically designed for him to come closer to his Savior and to know God. The Spirit was strong and Scott was comforted.

I don't know what will happen, today, but I know it will be ok. God is with us. I know He's with us.

blah blah blah

blah, blah, blah......the biliary drain jerked out 4".......... scott sore, but determined to not go to SLC for any reason other than transplant............... christmas dinner at john and kathy's cause we might not be here for the real christmas dinner.............. 4 year old complaining, "mom, you're not snuggling anyone, you're supposed to be snuggling us, REMEMBER?".............. blah, blah, blah............. by the way, dinner was great, and the afternoon pleasant

bitter-sweet potentials

December 17, 2005, we had a kitchen fire. It was a blessing because, as one friend put it, "It was such an ugly kitchen, it deserved to be burned." So, it was a bitter-sweet experience that involved gutting and remodeling not only our kitchen, but both bathrooms. The remodel is still slowly spreading out to the rest of my homely house.

December 17, 2006 was also traumatic. JA started having seizures at bedtime. Coupled with his severe headaches, I had graphic imaginations of inoperable tumors. Luckily, they turned out to be benign rolandic seizures. If you have to choose a type of seizure for your child to have, I would recommend this type; they are not harmful, respond to medication, and go away at puberty.

December 17, 2007 is Monday. It holds the greatest bitter-sweet potential of the three. I'm a little anxious, and actually hoping a bit that we don't get the call until after Christmas. I think it would be better for the kids, and I hate thinking that our donor family will be grieving during the holidays.

I never considered that we would be still waiting. In my mind, I had scheduled Scott's transplant for September, and that he would be going back to work in January. Bummer.

Anyway, we are hanging in there. Scott is tired but ok. He stops the chemo next Friday, which will give us the week of Christmas off of chemo before he starts again.

It's a good day when Scott eats a lot, you laugh with dear friends, and everyone prays for you.

it's snowing

It's snowing. Logically, I know that people die all the time. It's not our fault if someone dies, but emotionally, I'm distressed for our donor family. It's snowing, and it's slick, and it's the holidays. I'm gagging with panic for them, but it's a waste of energy for me. We are still waiting and it's still snowing.

I wish I had something useful to blog, but I don't, really. I'm just out of grit.

It was nice to go to the temple with Scott, this morning. It always pulls things into perspective and gives me much needed peace.

Currently, Scott is working up courage to take chemo. JA is enthusiastically dissecting a broken, digital camera. N. went to bed in the face of homework. M. went to mutual to decorate gingerbread houses. C. is getting her pajamas on, with high hopes of being snuggled with lots of books. I'm not craving anything in particular, except perhaps, a satisfying sleep.

uncrowned

I think it would be crushing to be proclaimed queen, just to find out you were only 2nd runner up. Still, I'd rather be the uncrowned, Miss California 2nd runner up, than 2nd in line for transplant.

When they call you 2nd for transplant, you get to have a hysterical meltdown, followed by a 4 hour drive. You then wait several hours to see if Mr #1 dies on the table (he didn't), and then drive the 4 hours home.

I'd rather strut in high heals down the catwalk, wearing a string bikini than be #2, again. Not a pretty visual, but I'd do it, if I thought it would help.

We're home. We're just fine.

2nd

We've been called as 2nd and are heading down as fast as we can. It looks like first has pneumonia so it is quite likely.

crying, running, run

Scott has felt awful all day, but managed to go with us to decorate graham cracker houses.

I'm just tired.

the served end

We played rook and ate pie at a friend's house. A good laugh is worth so much, these days, and it's nice to forget, for a bit.

I know that it is from my sisters, my blood sisters, that the ward thinks we need help with Christmas. I know they are trying to be kind. Their intent, probably, isn't to give me a brain scream, because I've worked, so very hard, to be not needy. It's just humbling/frustrating to be on the receiving end of a Christmas project.

The kids are getting a decent load, already, for Christmas. So maybe, this is like going to church with small children. It's torture, but it's not about you anymore. It's about teaching your children, giving them good experiences, helping them learn and grow. I just need to relax and be gracious, so my children can see the great blessings that come from serving others, even if we're the ones on the served end.

heaven knows

Scott's doing better, today.......... not quite so dark. That's nice. He's still has intermittent nausea and back spasms, but I think he's going to make it.

Lately, it's easier if my moods don't mirror Scott's. We've always been so close, there's often not a difference in how we feel. But, when it comes to depression, it's really best for everyone if there's a separation of emotion.

So, I'm working hard to stay busy with non-crisis things. I cooked pizza rolls for dinner and froze some for later, worked on packing clothes for the kids' 72 hour kits (so much for getting out of crisis mode), and took a nap. I hope Scott doesn't feel too neglected, because if he's not dying, I'm doing non-Scott things on purpose.

Scott's parents came for dinner. I'm grateful for their support. All I have to do is call and they are right here to take over, day or night.

The kids had their last Mahler symphony performance, tonight. It was so amazingly beautiful. Although I don't think I'll miss the hassle much, JA was especially sad for it to be done.

I've stopped praying for a transplant. I'm pretty sure the Lord has everything figured out, and that it will happen exactly when it is supposed to. I'm praying for patience and stamina. Heaven knows, we could use some.

Uncle Norman

I was so happy to see my great uncle Norman, today. There, in the infusion room, he told me how his bone marrow has miraculously started working again. They were able to take out the tracheotomy and feeding tube. He's on maintenance chemo, and although the cancer is at bay, it is not shrinking. It's amazing to me that a man in his late 80's would be so happy to be alive, with all that. He's worked so very hard to die at an old age.

The nurse told us about her fight with Stage 3 melanoma, while Scott's IV was running thru. Statistically, she had a 17% chance of survival, and she's five years out. So brave.

We've talked about whether we would pursue aggressive cancer treatment again, for either one of us. It would be terribly difficult to decide either way. I am not afraid to die, per se, but I am definitely afraid of leaving young children. I'm afraid of leaving Scott alone. Even then, we really are here only a short time. The blessings of having been sealed together, and the resurrection are so real, I'm more apt to work towards that, than a longer life. Don't get me wrong, I am working hard to live long and well. I just can't guarantee that I would choose to stay if presented with a choice.

It's been a tough day. The chemo makes Scott weak. He is having back spasms, and can't get comfortable. I am praying he will sleep better, tonight.

For a distraction, I worked on the food for our 72 hour kits. C. and I sorted out granola bars, jerky and hard candies into 6 piles. The kids had fun picking out of the different flavors of corn nuts and fruit snacks. I think they are itching a bit for a reason to eat "Dora the Explorer" cookies, and drink soup from a can. The living room is still a grand mess.

what my heart cannot handle

I have to remember that walking sleeveless into a steamy swamp at dusk, and spraying yourself with sugar water, is probably a better repellant than repeatedly asking a sticky, nine year old to please stop touching you. That's not what did me in, tonight, but it was priming.

I ran a little ragged: drop off C., 5th grade band concert, science fair project inservice, sister's house, high school, dress rehearsal, sister's house, dress rehearsal. That's not what did me in, either, but it certainly egged on the fatigue.

I, again, compared all this to having a baby, but remembered that there is something much worse than labor and delivery. There's breast feeding. Just thinking about breast feeding did me in.

Breast feeding is not unlike taking your most precious body parts and slamming them in the car door knowing, that every two to four hours for the next 12 months, you will be doing it again. Contemplating that there might be some lactatingish phase to liver transplant was more than my heart could handle.

There is a beautiful view of the temple up past the Manwaring center. I left rehearsal and walked the campus, grateful for some aloneness. On my way back down to the Snow, I stopped at a bathroom to fix my face and cry some more. It always takes a good cry to bring me back to the here and now. I'm only ok in the here and now.

By the way, Mahler is much more beautiful with your own angels in the chorus, and exquisite enough to merit it's own, good cry.

music posture

John August will be home any minute. He will be taking a bath and scraping the scum off his teeth in preparation for dress rehearsal tonight. The kids are in the chorus of Mahler's symphony this weekend. It's good to have something centered on them for once.

Mahler is so heavy. I just don't think I have the posture to sit thru an oratorio. I have more of a bluegrass/country/soft alternative music posture.......... kind of slouchy.

Scott is intensely fatigued with this new round of chemo. At least, he's not nauseated, and sleeps thru the night without any additional medication. Man, I'm so grateful his prognosis is good. I'm not sure we could do this if things were at all iffy.

gifts for that special someone whose brains are fried

One of the kindest gifts I have received of late, is a massage. I have had three in the last 6 months. It is definitely what I am going to give my friends when their brains are being fried on the sidewalk. Thanks Bev and VaLayne.

I talked a good while with my neighbor at the Relief Society Christmas dinner, tonight. She lost a baby to cystic fibrosis, is losing her 14 year old to cystic fibrosis, and has a 7 year old with cystic fibrosis who is asking when he's going to die. All this we are going thru looks like Disneyland compared to what they are facing, and here, she took the time to lift and strengthen me. She's a rock.

It was a relief to talk with someone who really knows how hard this is. She knows about being stuck and waiting with a crisis over your head, while the rest of the world spins and rushes on the outside. She just knows, and she taught me that empathy and compassion can be incredibly powerful gifts. I can only hope to give them as gracefully as she does.

Anyway, I'm having trouble with my internet connection. It might be because the cat barfed on that little box in the garage. I don't really want to go reset it, because I want to remain ignorant as long as possible to the fact that someone spilled a bunch of birdseed by the back door while I was gone at the party. It might go away, if I just ignore it long enough.

I had some really boring housework planned for the day, but I thought it might be more fun to drag Scott to our local family doctor for labs and then haul him in for IV fluids at our oncologist's office. He did say that he felt better after the IV fluids, so at least, that was worth it. I guess it was worth knowing his liver enzymes are within an acceptable range of abnormal, and he doesn't have an infection.

As usual, my motives are warped

Two years ago, just a couple of weeks after his eighth birthday, the neighbor boy was hit and killed at the top of our street. He was one of my primary children, and my daughter's classmate. His organs were donated, and three lives were saved by his family's humble generosity.

I talked with Weston's mother, today. Being on opposite ends of the spectrum, we teared up as we discussed the giving and receiving of organ transplant. I am glad that we talked. It was healing. Just knowing, that a family like theirs is going to save a family like mine, is so sobering, and my heart aches for our donor family.

So, in sacrament meeting today, people might have thought I was wracked with torrential tears and snorting because I had felt the spirit, but no. The little boy in front of us had a decapitated spiderman toy, and was repeatedly shoving it's smooth, stubby neck as far up his nose as it could possibly go.

A good, cleansing laugh is worth so much these days. Perhaps my motives are a little warped, but I really enjoy going to church.

A new aspect of purgatory

There are several aspects of purgatory that I have never really considered until now: itching, and sleep deprivation.

Scott isn't itching as bad now, compared to a couple of nights ago, but it's far from pleasant. He can't sleep, his eyes are yellow, and he feels terrible. Bedtime is a nightmare and he's wide awake.

I could drag his hiney the 4 hours to SLC, but I don't think there is anything to be done. I feel like they will say, "Looks like his liver enzymes are up. Waiting for a liver really stinks. Deal with it."

Anyway, the kids did great at their concert, this afternoon. They have one more performance, this evening, and two next weekend. M. was so excited that they had received standing ovations, until N. pointed out that the show was over and the people had to stand up to leave anyway. I'm very proud of them for sticking it out, inspite of all this craziness. They're such great kids.

That one's mine

I love it when people call and say, "We want to come see you. We'll be there in half an hour." Amazingly, my house gets really clean in just 30 minutes. Of course, all the clutter gets stuck on my bed. But then it's all in one place and much easier to sort and put away after they leave.

We had a busy day. A couple of Scott's colleagues dropped by, C. proposed to the neighbor boy, N. washed one of her frogs down the sink, and the kids sang at the college christmas concert.

Someone said, "Oh, there's that little boy from the front that stole the show. He was our favorite. He kept looking up at the conductor and had so much energy."

During the concert, I had felt a little mortified because it was my child standing out in front of his line, swaying to the music and all but picking his nose, while all the other children stood still and sang with their hands straight down.

But then, he really was absolutely adorable in that navy blazer and tie. So I said, "That one's mine, thank you."

Un-Brella

This is Scott's book, "Un-Brella". I am so excited because everyone can just look at a little version right here on my blog. Scott's website is at www.scottefranson.com. I would link it for you, but I have absolutely no idea how.

confessions

Most of the time, I pray that I will want to be the mother. The rest of the time, I have to pray really, really hard that I will want to be the mother.

Long, stinging hot showers may not be very green, but it is well worth the ability to control some aspect of heat in your life, and the walls continue to weep long after you have stopped.

Something great

I was wrong. Something great did happen, yesterday.

My grandmother came to see me.

Grandma was in her forties when her husband died of leukemia. He left her with 10 living children, and a dairy farm. She later remarried, but it was never, ever easy. Among memories of mentholatum treatments (gasp) and learning to crochet, I have her timeless example of endurance and diligence. It's humbling to know she prays for us.

Scott is still in bed, this morning. He hasn't slept well and continues to have drenching sweats. I suspect I will be taking him back in for IV fluids, today. He will not want to go, as usual. Perhaps, I will give him options, "Do you want to walk to the van, or crawl to the van? You decide."

There

Scott said I should go blog. I don't know why. Nothing really great happened, today. I shopped Home Depot for annoying repair stuff, purchased a windup radio, and yelled at my children over homework.

There, I blogged.

little fevers

It's ok with me if C. decides to run a little fever, today. There's concern, but until she shows some other, significant symptoms, I'll not worry too much about it.

It is not ok with me if Scott decides to run a little fever. I don't care if there is nothing else going on. With our luck, it could mean a week in the hospital. It's an instant high anxiety, a brain scream.

I am just tired enough that every little thing with Scott feels like the sky is falling, and I am a chicken running around with it's head cut off.

I have friends, dear friends, at the local oncologist's office. They took us in at closing, gave Scott some IV fluids and ran a CBC. He's a little anemic, but his white blood count was well within normal.

So comforting.......... Thank you, Chris.

even close up

So, Scott's family is fasting, tomorrow, for a speedy resolution to this chaos. My side of the family is fasting next Sunday. Everyone is invited to participate, if you wish to join us.

Sometimes, I feel panicked, stuck in a script I didn't write. Other times, like now, I'm ok. I have a steady, "Wait for it....... it will come...... relax.... everything is as it should be........ things are good..... breathe......", going thru my brains. In a minute I will switch back to, "I can't take this anymore."

Scott is doing well. He's just tired.

If I stand back far enough from this situation, everything is perfectly fine. Even close up, right at this moment, isn't bad; just tense.

It's been a pleasant day. Jan and Bill's house is the perfect place to relax. Things were a little too quiet without them here, so we watched Transformers in Bill's honor and ate Sixlets in Jan's.

My sister and her husband brought dinner. We played Iron Dragon. I won by a landslide, so it was a good game.

The kids are doing well. They played hard with the cousins and can't hardly wait to get home.

Scott is exhausted, but he had a good day. We'll go home, tomorrow.

good enough

You wouldn't believe how hard it was to get Scott out of the hospital, today. They must really enjoy seeing how close to insanity a sleep deprived a person can get before he starts throwing broth flavored jello.................... tempting, so tempting.

Anyway, we are at Jan's for a day or so. Scott just needs to rest, not so much because he's been sick, but because his roommate watched cartoon network for 72 hours straight. It's hard to believe that we pay so much for blatant torture.

So, while he sleeps, I am watching, "I love Lucy" reruns, and eating orange creamies.

It's good................. good enough. You might think that with it being Thanksgiving, I am not very thankful. On the contrary, I am so thankful this day is over.

not very fun

Scott was much improved this morning. He spent the day with minimal pain and nausea. They still won't let him eat. It's not very fun, but at least it's better than yesterday.

the whole time

I woke up with a, cry till you go to bed, cry stuck in my throat. I can't afford that yet. I need the composure to advocate on Scott's behalf. In other words, I need a miracle; a big "walk on water" miracle.

It seems inevitable, a breakdown. That raccoon is stuck, bloated on the tracks. It feels like a simple matter of time before my emotional entrails are scattered to the crows. Heaven help the spectators, because I'm sure it won't be pretty.

At the hospital, Scott was still having serious pain and nausea. Our dr. comes in and Scott tells him what he told him last night, "This really feels like pancreatitis."

"It can't be pancreatitis. Your bile ducts have been stretched by the bigger tube. Sometimes, that's painful."

I am so frustrated, because something really is wrong and he is still not listening. I feel vibrations from the approaching train and this man has no idea what is about to hit him point blank in the face.

"But, it really feels like pancreatitis."

"Well, let's look at the lab-work............damn, you have pancreatitis."

The roar in my head is so loud, I can only send prayers in incomplete sentences.

What happened next, I'm not exactly sure, but it felt like an angel shoved that raccoon down in between the tracks. The train went right over me, and I was left with complete peace. Within two breaths, I went from imminent disaster to perfectly fine (enter miracle). The dr. will never know how dangerously close he came to being the victim of a total meltdown.

"He'll live, but it will be this hard the whole time.", echo reverberated from last June. It was a promise and a warning from the Holy Ghost during an equally trying time.

I get it........ I get it. This is supposed to be hard. It is going to be hard. I guess it is a little easier knowing what to expect.

I really am grateful for that clue, but would someone please tell me, what exactly is, "the whole time"? Is it until transplant? Until Easter? Until he dies? How do I know when "the whole time" is up? Will there be a, "Ding, you're done."? Do we get a star on our chart? A glitter sticker?

So, Scott will spend the next couple of days without food or water. They might put a port in his chest as it is getting progressively more difficult to draw blood and maintain an IV. If the pancreatitis does not resolve within the next few days, they will downsize the biliary drain. If a liver becomes available, he probably won't get it till he is better. He's no longer first on the list, so that would not be likely, anyway.

Too bad

We were on time for our appointment, this morning. Too bad, it is not until next Monday.

Scott's drain was leaking so very badly, we thought we'd make the trip productive and get it checked. Our interventional radiologist decided to upsize the tube in hopes it would drain better.

In the past, we have discussed which is worse: nausea or pain. There was no argument, today, since he woke with plenty of both. It hurt him so badly and made him so sick that he was admitted to the hospital, and is, at this very moment, heavily medicated.

If they could take an emotional x-ray, mine would look like bloated roadkill .................probably raccoon.

We are in SLC tonight for an appointment in the morning.

Scott is doing fine. It's nice to have a week off of chemotherapy.

His biliary drain is leaking a lot, which is a major pain. The drain is currently the only thing I swear over in my mind.

I hate being late for church, but we have been, for some reason, ever since Scott was diagnosed with cancer. We were not late this morning. I urgently prodded the kids along so we could get there before 9:00. Too bad, today was stake conference, and it didn't start until 10:00.

................ oh, brother.

Happy Thanksgiving

Today was such a good day.

After cleaning and cooking, we all found our way into JA room to play with the Knex. It was heaven for a full 2 hours. We haven't played that peacefully for months and months. The kids felt it, too. What an incredible gift.

The turkey was great. The company was fabulous. It was a heavenly day.

It turned out so well, I was thinking about holding Christmas next Saturday. In fact, if we hold a major holiday every Saturday, we could be well past Easter by Christmas, and celebrate the NEXT Christmas by Valentines.

Surprisingly, Scott has some pretty passionate feelings about pushing the holidays. He said he has to draw the line somewhere, and I'm pretty sure he wasn't kidding.

.............oh, well. It was fun to think about.

Anyway, this is my new favorite salad:

SNICKER, POMEGRANATE SALAD
pomegranate seeds
tart apples, chopped
Snickers, chopped
Cool Whip

The recipe is actually an adaptation from Jan's pomegranate salad. I am allergic to pecans, so I just substituted Snickers.

We have a dr appointment on Monday morning. We are leaving early tommorow afternoon in hopes of getting to SLC before dark. Scott's drain is leaking pretty badly, so I don't know if we will be back Monday night. If they have to change out the drain, we will come back on Tuesday.

I am not praying for anyone's specific demise that wouldn't have happened anyway. I am praying that whoever's number is up can die in a way that would be conducive to donating their organs.

It's the oddest thing in the world: waiting for someone to die, so your husband will live.

I wonder if anyone's waiting for me.

Turkey confessions

We celebrated my mother's birthday party here at my house, last January. My only assignments were to clean my house and cook the turkey. It was a huge 30 pound turkey for a huge party. Not having been thawed enough, it was only cooked two inches into the skin and bleeding when company started to arrive. In an attempt to save the main course, my sister and I hacked off the breast pieces and shoved them back in the oven, turning up the heat to speed the process. A sizable amount of grease had dripped onto the bottom of the stove. It lit on fire and promptly smoked the entire house. We opened the windows and waited in 4 degree weather for the house to air out. Another sister purchased substitute rotisere chickens, and it turned out to be a fun party with good laughs. Scott had wiped out the stove and as the party was winding down, I chose to recook the turkey. Unfortunately, there was some grease residue left in the oven and the party was smoked out again.

They only ask me to bring chips, anymore; dessert, if Scott will make it.

We're #1.......

Scott is now #1 on the transplant list. Our surgeon will still turn a liver down for Scott if it is damaged at all, and there is the chance that someone else's status will worsen and bump him down again, but hopefully, we will not have to be #2 again........................ please, not #2.

I ran into an acquaintance while shopping this morning. She started crying and said that what we are going thru is so hard and so terrible. She just cries whenever she thinks about us.

Yes, all this is extremely difficult. I have never in my life been stretched so far, but I don't think it terrible........Ok, so waiting is pretty terrible, but it is not SO terrible to warrant weeping every time I think about it. And believe me, I think about it all the time.

Our closest family and friends can see that we are being carried by God. It's the people on the periphery that need the most comfort, the ones that can't feel the blanket of grace smothering my house. It's an incredible gift resulting from everyone's combined faith and prayers. We feel it.

We are celebrating Thanksgiving on Saturday. It's probably a blatant revelation of my control issues, but I feel like having Thanksgiving at my house with my little family.

On the real Thanksgiving, both our parents usually have huge family parties. It's a crazy, 5,000 calorie ritual with screaming kids all over the place. I can't handle much more craziness.

I would declare Saturday as Christmas also, if I really thought I could get away with it. I'm all shopped for it. If the neighbor kids weren't here today, I would be stuffing stockings and wrapping the last little bits. All this nervous energy has to be for something constructive.

A new record

Mental Note:
Hayride and bonfire with 20+, hyperactive cubscouts = neurotic episode............Avoid repeat episode at all cost.

Today, I purchased 3 milks, several loaves of bread and lots of fruit. That would be a big, "So what?", to most, but for me it's a big deal. Since June, I have purchased only one gallon, or one loaf of bread, and hardly any fruit at any given time because I didn't want a lot of food to go bad if we get called for transplant.

I am so stinking sick of living jug to jug, I just went bananas with groceries. Actually, I didn't get bananas, but I did get two whole boxes of clementines and ten pounds of apples. I am hoping that it will all rot in my fridge and mold out the front door because we get called to leave.

Scott has had 3, relatively good days. It officially beats the 42, consecutive, good hours in August; a new record.

knex and cubscouts

Bridgette came over today. She took my place as den leader in June when things got hairy. We made 10 bird feeder kits for the bear cubscouts. As always, it is a relief, after working with major tools, to end up with all your fingers still attached. We had a great time.

Not that I could handle it right yet, because really, just the thought of crowd control for 10, nine year olds gives me an eye twitch; I miss the crazy fun of doing cubscouts.

Maybe, I just miss normal life.

Anyway, JA earned knex privileges by hauling cinderblock rubble to the back fence. I hate knex because it is another million of little pieces to step on when you're barefoot, going to the bathroom at night. I was happy to rebanish the bucket at bedtime when he chose to ignore my requests for him to brush his teeth. You might think that this is a harsh punishment, but you have not seen his teeth. Also, my current tolerance level for being ignored is extremely low, AND, I hate knex. JA loves knex enough he will, at the very least, rake leaves to get them back.

Scott illustrated a new unbook called "Scales", today. That says a lot because, usually, he is not able to concentrate.

We are still waiting.........waiting.

At least we both got something done, today.

The perfect therapy

I love demolition therapy.

Lucky for me, we have the world's ugliest stone/cinderblock fireplace downstairs. I have been working on it, without much success, for about a year with a sledgehammer. So, my neighbor lent me his jackhammer drill and I have to say, that is darn good therapy.

Saturday Morning

C. is my alarm clock. She gets up at 6:30 sharp every morning to tell me that she is hungry. Saturdays are no exception.

We got back last night just in time for Scott to go to the pinewood derby race with N. She placed fifth overall and is very happy. Halloween and the pinewood derby had been first and foremost in her anxious mind since mid-September. Perhaps, now she will stop praying for the liver transplant not to come yet.

Scott is now at the very top of the transplant list. Waiting drives me beserk.

Scott is taking the kids to his mother's house this morning. He thinks I need a break, and who's to argue with that. I thought about getting a hotel for a few days, but that leaves me coming back to my house in the same condition, or worse, than I left it in. If everyone else leaves, I can throw everything away and there is no one to stop me.

The dilema

Scott's mom just called. She wanted to know why we weren't out the door yet and on our way to Utah. I told her that Scott laid down and he hasn't gotten up yet. She asked if he was dead and said that maybe I should check on him.

It's a dilema. Clean your house, versus go find out whether or not your husband has died in his sleep.

The way I look at it is this; if he is dead, there is absolutely nothing I can do about it. Also, it is going to be a lot harder to clean once I know that there is a dead body in my house. I may as well clean while I am in the groove of cleaning.

It is most likely that he is just as wiped out as he has been every morning since he started chemo. He will wake up in an hour or so and say, "Thank you so much for letting me sleep. I needed that." We will then drag our pathetic bodies to Utah for his appointments tomorrow.

I am so tired, I couldn't care less either way.

Now, where did I set that windex.......................

what I learned today:

It doesn't matter how long it took you to install that beautiful, nickel plated, 3 light vanity. If it results in not being able to open the cabinet, it is just wrong.

When he lovingly takes down your blunder, while you bury your head in the pillows; you know you have a really, good husband.

Jan's cream of brocoli soup is the best ever, and makes a great comfort food.

If you eat your 4 year old's portion of brocoli soup, while she is momentarily distracted with the TV, she will be mad for a long, long time. (It is that good.)

Frogs shed, and it's kind of gross.

Jumping softly on a mini-trampoline produces the same, undesirable effect as jumping hard on a large trampoline.........enough said.

Leverage

It's been a nice day. We went to church and celebrated a birthday. We now have frogs. Heaven help them survive.

Scott is extremely tired and his mouth is dry. Some people get terrible mouth sores on this chemo. At least he shouldn't be vomiting and losing his hair. People are always commenting on how good he looks; that they expected him to look a lot worse. Personally, I don't care how he looks, I want him to feel good. He just doesn't feel good.

What do you get when you put one frazzled mother in with a big bunch of eight year olds?

..........purgatory.

What do you get when you put two frazzled mothers in with a big bunch of eight year olds?

............leverage. (this is my evil grin :)

So, for the last two Sundays, I have sat in on my friend's primary class. These are pretty good kids on an individual level, but collectively, they carry what I call, "high, purgatory potential". They have been downright naughty.

I take it rather personally when this happens to a fellow, frazzled sister. We have got to stick together better when it comes to issues of sanity.

Anyway, there's this whole, warped portion of my brain devoted to making everyone else completely miserable. Fortunately, it is well medicated and, for the most part, subdued. It is this part of me that takes great joy in the fact that these eight year olds know, and fear, that I will retrieve their fathers the moment they decide to tromp on the teacher.

It's just another, fulfilling reason to go to church.

God Bless the Relief Society

We had to come to Utah this morning. Scott's drain got caught on a doornob and was yanked out a bit. Besides, I really miss driving in Salt Lake. And surely, everyone at interventional radiology has missed us. I am thinking that the staff might even send us a christmas card, we are getting so well acquainted.

Scott's fine. His drain is fine. He started chemo today, and is tired, but fine. We are staying at Jan and Bill's and that's really good because Jan made eggrolls. I needed eggrolls.

So, you know that you are probably pretty close to your breaking point when: those thoughts that are best left unsaid come out of your mouth. Thoughts like, "I am going to give you away."

Closer still: you stop the car so the little angels can get out and find a new home.

Even closer: your son asks if you would ever really give him away, and you have to close your eyes while biting your lips in order to construct a loving, nurturing answer. (He allready has plenty of fuel for future therapy. No need to add more by being absolutely honest at that moment.)

I am well aware of how close I am to breaking, right now. I am so seriously vulnerable, I called in the big guns. I called in.........

(drum roll, please)

..............................the Relief Society.

Now, for anyone who doesn't know, the Relief Society is the biggest women's organization in the world. (Not that the women, themselves, are the biggest. There are just lots of them, thank you.) It boasts of, literally, millions of women, each dedicated to saving the world one casserole at a time.

Out of all those women, you will not find any finer women than are in the Lyman third ward.

So, on the cusp of breaking, I called these women. They did my laundry, mopped my floor, threw out all the moldy food, and wiped out my filthy fridge. In short, they will have saved me, albeit temporarily, from crawling into a hole and dying.

Truly, God bless the Relief Society.

Franson Flock

The Girls
Parrot Dance
the Ghost Parrot
Rear View

The kids had a blast at the church party last night. They won the prize for the most coordinated family. M., N. and C. wore their parrot costumes. JA wanted to be a sheeted ghost but we thought a ghost parrot would be more fun, and it was.

Tomorrow, Scott starts the chemotherapy. We've postponed it for as long as we possibly could. I am just praying for a call to Salt Lake tonight.

lamaze

Lamaze breathing is not really for labor......... Oh no, no, no, no.

They teach you lamaze BEFORE you have that child because they know that at some point you are going to need to employ swift, shallow breathing in order to keep from ending up featured on the 10:00 news after you have discovered late, sorely embattled homework still in her binder, done, but not turned in.

I think my brains may have leaked out of my ears, tonight, but everyone went to bed feeling loved. So, hey, lamaze works for homework.

Waiting for transplant is a lot like having a baby. The anticipation is terrible. So hopeful and yet it could be months and months, and more false alarms before it finally comes.

Right before you go into labor, you nest; cleaning, packing, getting everything ready, pulling out closets and moving furniture. I never was very graceful at waiting and would do deliberate nesting activities in hopes that it would encourage things along.

I am nesting now in hopes it will deliver a liver. Ok, so I didn't nest very far, but the big room is relatively clean, and I have intentions of mopping the coolaide coated floor. The bathrooms are an obvious target. I am craving a big steam sprayer, like the ones at car washes to blast away the accumulated grime.

I'm wired and would love nothing more than to drive Scott to Salt Lake right now. I never have been graceful at waiting.

I guess we could go walk Walmart. Maybe, we should go for a drive on the back roads...........

Special Needs

So last week, while passing the library at church, I noticed that my children were teasing the substitute librarian. He's a good natured man so I said, "Be nice to Brother Cromwell. He's from Ririe. He has special needs." I forgot all about it until at church, today, he asked me if he was still "special needs". I am also from an Idaho podunk so I told him, yes, but that I was also a special needs person coming from West Jefferson.

It started me thinking about how special needs we all are. There was this warm, gushy acknowledgment that we are all pathetic people, but that the Lord knows each one of us and tends carefully to our needs. It was a feeling that the Lord wants us. He wants me.

I felt happy, but even more, I felt content...........well, for about a minute.

Not to seem superstitious, or ungrateful, or anything. But I seem to get these feelings right before my world grinds to a halt. It has never failed. Everything gets stripped down to the bare bones of breathing and praying within a short time of feeling God's love.

They have become a warning, a hold on to your britches. I felt it on the way home from the hospital in April, right before they told us Scott had cancer. I wondered, then, what on earth could be coming that would warrant being strengthened to such a degree.

It came, and I have been so grateful for that affirmation that God lives and loves me. It pulls away so much doubt, so much fear. It's a, "You're where you need to be. You'll be fine. Hang in there.", to pull out when I really need it.

Still, that does not prevent the drastic series of intestinal distress that follows......not that you really wanted to know about that.

Anyway, we are having a nice Sunday. The kids have decided to bury each other in the leaves. They are not fighting, so I am endorsing it as a worthy sabbath activity.

Scott does not have to start chemo until Friday and is feeling quite well in his Sunday napping mode.

I am left to take a tums and a few pictures of the kids. What is there to do but enjoy? Pray and enjoy.

Almost third hand

The #1 guy took the liver but it was touch and go, for a while..... a long while.

The liver arrived in SLC at 10:30pm but the #1 man was really unstable. They didn't know if he would live to the operating room. If he didn't, they would let us know.

We prayed for the man, and for the Lord's will.

Rollercoasters have nothing to offer compared to being the back up man for a transplant. It is a huge emotional pot that takes you from hoping the #1 man has a cold to praying he lives, but if he doesn't that the liver will be fine. Excitement, frustration, grief, hope, disappointment, relief, exhaustion, anxiety. Pretty much everything but sleep.

I called, again, at 1:30am. They were in surgery. The nurse said there was still a chance he might die on the table. If he did, they would just take out the liver and use it on Scott. Apparently, it's been known to happen and, again, they would let us know.

We just prayed for the man. It's one thing to win out for a liver because the other man has a cold. To become the #1 man because the other man died, is another. Also, it seems rather unlucky to get a liver third hand.

The nurse called at 5:30am. The man lived, thank you.

We will wait for another liver, but it is incredibly destablizing to be in a condition of constant waiting. I am more than a little nuts right now.

This morning, we have to meet with our 4th oncologist to start chemo, something we were most hopeful last night of skipping. I have, successfully, delayed the chemo for more than a month. Alas, it will have to be dealt with. Hopefully, the anticipation is worse than the actual chemo. The dread, itself, has been crushing. Heaven help us if it equals or surpasses expectations.

As if time could not pass any slower

On our way down this afternoon, we recieved a phone call from the University Hospital. There is a liver coming from Phoenix and Scott is 2nd pick on the list. They like to have several people lined up in case the first person has a cold or in some way does not qualify for the liver. We should know by 10pm if the liver is for Scott.

It's 7:27.........7:28...................................................................7:29.............................................

What's a girl to do?

A girl is to eat her bag of deli chicken, wash it down with whatever is in Jan's fridge and top it off with a bag of Doritos. That's what a girl is to do.

7:31............7:32...............7:33.............7:34.............7:35..........

.....pray.....munch.......pray.........raid the fridge.......

7:36..............

Twelve good hours

So, after a few dark and crabby days, I'm back. M. asked what I am going to dress up as on Halloween. That's a no brainer. I replied, "A witch." I have been a witch. Sometimes, I just get tired of it all.

Fortunately, the Lord seems to keep a pretty good stash of attitude adjustment material. When I feel ungrateful, He pulls it out and hits me across the back of my head. It's good to be reminded of how blessed we are, and that things could be lots, lots worse.

Today, we are doing really well. For months, Scott has asked me several times a day, "I'll feel good again, right?" Finally, today, Scott felt good all day long. He crashed at 7 pm, but 12 good hours is practically a miracle. It's been hour-to-hour surviving for so long, we almost don't know what to do with ourselves.

The primary program was today. The kids sang well and M. played her flute. I didn't see any of my kids eat their boogers so, all in all, it went great.

Sleep, baby, sleep...

We are in SLC an extra night. Scott's drain was replaced late this afternoon and since it is storming we chose to start back in the morning. We don't mind too much because it is rather pleasant here at Jan and Bill's house. They feed us and make us laugh.

Things To Look Forward To

Halloween: The girls are going as parrots(they look like mexican pinatas). JA is going as a ghost.

Pinewood Derby: N. and Scott are making a car together.

A really clean house that stays clean: A girl can dream, can't she?

Remodeling the front room: There's this itch to rip out the ugly carpet. I am working up to tiling to the front door and putting in a hard wood floor. But, first I have to fix the window casing and repaint the room.

Blessings of the Day

I browsed the IKEA for a whole hour this morning and only spent $25.

Since our new oncologist is not available until next Friday, we will just have to postpone chemotherapy for another week. Darn. Scott is just heartbroken.

Scott has not vomited because of the general anesthesia he had earlier (miracle).

I do not have energy to remodel the front room. I will not have energy to even start for quite some time. (This is a blessing to Scott, because my remodelings drive him nuts.)

Scott is doing fine, for now. He had some pain from the procedure, but appears to be sleeping solid, tonight.

Sleep, baby, sleep.....

Miracles of the Day

We met our 3rd oncologist, Dr Dickson, today. I need someone close to help manage side effects of the chemotherapy. Hopefully, we won't need him, but if I don't anticipate trouble I know I will regret it.

We will meet our 4th oncologist later this week. We did not like our 1st oncologist and opted to use another. Our 2nd has fallen ill and will not be back for several months, if at all. So, we will meet a new dr and go thru the same old drill; where ya from, why ya here, where ya hurtin, are ya poopin, insurance card, when does your visa expire.............

Anyway, there have been many blessings and several small miracles today.

N. woke up happy today.

We held family home evening and everyone participated. No one got hurt.

Oh! Can't forget. N. got brackets placed for headgear at the orthodontist. It was all for an enormous amount, but I swallowed my breakfast back down and paid it. The assistant came back and said they forgot to subtract the insurance's portion and that the amount is only half as much. (Laaaaaa! Enter background music of angelic choir)

The water softener is working. I installed it in April and haven't been able to pray it into functioning properly until now. Consequently, we can now use our dishwasher. Joy! ...or rather, Cascade!

There's loads more, but I don't think you are interested in knowing things like what a miracle it is to get the kids in bed by 8:30. Besides, I have to save something for next time.

I always feel better after you leave

I am so grateful for our kind family, friends and neighbors who have helped us with diversions over the last week.

Scott's sisters came up from Utah for a few days with their children. All the cousins stayed at Scott's mom's house to play and share snotty noses.

Yesterday morning, our neighbor invited us all for lunch and let us ride their four-wheelers. It was a huge thrill for the kids.

Last night, we raided my sister's house. We brought rootbeer floats because people are always happier to see you if you bring food.

We had dinner tonight with some good friends at their house. It was great fun and good food. I just got off the phone with her and thanked her for having us. She said, "I always feel better after you leave." It sounded as though she invited us so that she would feel worse with us there and that her life would feel better by comparison after we left. It was very funny and we laughed.

I hope we have not been an imposition on anyone. The diversions are invaluable as it has been a huge drag at our house. I am so grateful to get out and escape for a little while. Thank you.

Scott seems to be doing a little better each day. He is not in much pain but does not feel good and has no energy. I wonder about him being dehydrated. It has been such a problem all summer.

Anyway, we are not excited to go to Salt Lake. We have an appointment on Wednesday at the transplant clinic. The pokings and proddings get so old.

Driving also gets old. I've used up more than a few angels driving thru Salt Lake, and I always thank the Lord for safe passage thru Utah.

salad is not a comfort food

I've discovered that lettuce does not make a good comfort food. No matter what I smother it in, I don't think it is possible for salad to "hit the spot" right now.

Even deli chicken has lost it's appeal. Something about the skin under my arms turning chicken fat globby just ruins it for me.

Out of desperation for a decent comfort food, I am pulling Dr Peppers from my deepest stash. It is my last resort drug when I am "overwhelmed mother" crazy and cannot tolerate any and all noises. In my darkest hours, Scott will, ever so cautiously, side slide a Dr Pepper my way. It is his way of saying he cares but is rightfully afraid of having his face ripped off.

Anyway, a Snickers candy bar washed down with Dr Pepper works wonders for me right now.

Scott is surviving. Unfortunately, he seems to have built up a tolerance to pain medication. He is not in severe pain. It's just a moderate to low grade, constant pain. It drives him nuts. The drs are not going to give him the really heavy duty, addictive pain meds for moderate pain. It's difficult to tough out chronic pain.

I am relieved that Scott was able to work for a few hours today on his computer. The man needs direction and does so much better if he can get something done. Compared to the last week...... or month...... or summer, he had a pretty good day.

It's 7:30 pm. I am in bed for the night.

I thought it better to drool in my bedroom than in front of the children.

I kind of want my old life back.

I crave being ineffective because I am lazy.

Instead, I am rendered useless because I am fried.




I miss it.



.

whew

So, Scott's art show opening was tonight at the Spori gallery. It showcased his book Un-Brella and all of his unbooks. It's such a beautiful show. Lots of friends and family came. The gallery served milk and cookies because it is a children's book and children are supposed to have milk and cookies with their books. It was great. (Special thanks to Brenda Benedict and Karen Anderson. Thank You, Thank You.)

The art department faculty showed up wearing bowties in Scott's honor. The print making teacher made special bowties with one of Scott's patterns for faculty that didn't own a bowtie. It was really endearing. I am so grateful for their show of support and love. It was just what Scott needed right now.

Really, I was so glad to get Scott there at all. Even if he proved to be just a warm body propped in the corner, it was better than standing there by myself. As it turned out, I didn't even have to play ventriliquist. He talked with everybody and had a nice time.

Whew.

as far as hells go

I've always considered hell to be a state of mind (not the swearing Hell, I mean actual hell), and that it was all relative to what kind of hell you had had previously, and that each and every person has their own personal perception of what that hell is. I've learned that hell is redefined by experience and, as the stakes get higher with children and such, that the potential depth for hell only increases with time.

I am only thinking about hell because it is amazing to me that the depression that totally incapacitated me 10 years ago seems like nothing now compared to the pressure I have felt off and on this summer in dealing with Scott's pain and his depression, and keeping the family intact. It is an exquisite quality of hell I have never felt before, let alone for such an extended amount of time.

That's not entirely true, though. If I really think of it, there were those years, with 3 children ages 3 and under, that I was totally insane. That mostly passed when they all slept thru the night and were potty trained. It was a pretty good hell, though, as far as hells go, and exquisite in it's own way. At least I learned a lot.

I am learning now.

Lessons that had been previously sketched on my heart are being carved deeper this time. I knew about the atonement and grace. I knew that the Lord loved me and that if I prayed He would answer my prayers.

But now, I know more of what grace is capable of. I know that the very heavens will move on my behalf as a result of my prayers, that the Lord will carry everything that I give to Him (but you have to give it to Him). I can see how all things are actually possible and possible to endure, and that even the most hellish of circumstances are really just moments in time to be learned from.

Unfortunately, I also know that with time, I will probably forget everything I have ever learned from this experience and that the Lord will see it necessary to teach me these things, yet again.

At that time, I will probably not have a blog to vent to and torture everyone with what is going in our lives, which will probably spare you some unnecessary, vicarious hell. Lucky you.

awgh

We are headed back to Utah tomorrow. Scott has a follow up appointment on Wednesday. He starts back on chemo some time this next week.

Shriners hospital called me for a follow up appointment for surgery I had 35 years ago. It's part of a study they are doing. They were so kind to me I would do just about anything they asked......Ok, and since they are paying for food, milage and hotel it couldn't hurt. The appointment is Thursday.

Scott is struggling. He just doesn't feel good. He hasn't felt good for about 5 months. He would truly rather shove his head into pig mire than play this game anymore.

Cancer really stinks. Cancer treatment.............. awgh, never mind.

just fine

Scott and I attended a children's literature conference, today. It was very nice. Scott feels better than he has felt for months. I know that he is a yoyo (aren't we all) and will certainly come down again. We will deal with that when it comes.

A good friend asked, "How are you doing with all this?"

I said, "We are fine."

"No, I said how are YOU doing with all this?", she probed.

That's a loaded question.

The current answer would have to be "just fine".

I am just fine as long as I am in the here and now. If I look back I think, "Wow, anyone who lives thru that would be a basket case when they're done." and then suddenly I really am a basket case. If I look forward I crumple into a fetal position and drool. I can only tolerate the absolute here and now, the place where I have some illusion of control.

I think that someday I will look back and feel proud that we made it. But it is not someday, and we have not yet made it.

So, I breathe ....and I pray .............and I accomplish the minimal tasks that keep the state from taking my children and committing me to a mental institution.

And then, then I let everything else go, try to mute the internal screams and hope it all works out in the end.

That, dear friend, is my definition of "just fine".

home sweet home

We all made it home today. Everyone is happily tucked in bed.

Scott is doing well. We are working hard at keeping up on his pain medication. He mostly complains about being stiff and walks a lot which is really good for him right now.

N. wanted to know when Scott would be getting a transplant. We told her it could be any time but would probably be in 4-6 months. She was so excited and said, "Good! I have so many plans. There's Halloween and my birthday. The daddy-daughter date is coming and then there is Christmas." We told her we would do the best we could and that we all have to be flexible.

We tell her that but I can't imagine my children getting any more flexible than they have allready been. They've been angels (I think) for the grandparents and have tolerated being drug from house to house amazingly well.

plastic jar bad, pain pills good

They discharged Scott from the hospital tonight on the condition that he stay in SLC until tomorrow. Scott was so happy to leave that he cried. He never wants to pee in a plastic jar again.

another day

Scott was not able to hold much food down today. Consequently, he is staying another night. He is tired and does not want to play anymore. Hopefully, tomorrow we will be able to come home where he can sleep all night uninterrupted without all the beeps.

I hear beeps in my sleep.

I am tired but I can eat. I can consume all the orange creamies from Jan's freezer and chase them down with the little "fun size" snickers in her bottomless candy drawer. I could use some "fun" because I am a little cranky and need to go to bed.

pathology results

The lymph nodes did not have cancer. Scott is now on active on the transplant list.

Our surgeon, Dr Schwartz, feels that we have some time to wait for a perfect liver. Persons with end stage liver disease sometimes have to settle for livers that are damaged because they are literally dying for a transplant. The recovery time is longer, so we are waiting.

Our hepatologist, Dr Hutson, thinks it will be Christmas or later since Scott's MELD score is only 22. It jumps to 25 on the 26th of September and to 28 after Christmas. The higher the MELD the higher you are on the list.

It has been an excrutiatingly slow and painful summer, but I still feel that we are blessed. No matter how nasty all the treatment has been, I don't think it can compare to liver failure. I think it has been an easier and faster way to get to transplant and I am so grateful for that.

Anyway, Scott should come home tomorrow. I don't know if he will be well enough to travel back to Idaho or if we will stay a day or so at Jan's. He is pretty tender with his 15 inch scar. It depends, also, if I am in any shape to drive (I am pretty well fried).

Thanks for all of your prayers.

Let's say....

Let's say that you are 9 months pregnant (Diane, this is for you) and you are having a hard time getting sympathy and compassion for your desperate condition from your husband.

Simply, kink his foley for 6 hours.

The pressure and the euphoric relief from that pressure seem to mirror almost exactly labor and post delivery. He will be forever amazed that you would ever have more than one baby.

I do have to say, that if Scott were to ever have a baby, he would do great.

Scott is moving into the sleep deprived phase of hospital detention. Since he has an epidural they check his vitals every two hours. He also has a roomate that watches TV a lot.

I guess it is alot like having a baby. Pain, epidural, sleep deprivation, annoying roommate.......

.... at least he doesn't have to breast feed.

quick note

The surgery went very well. No cancer as far as they can see. We won't find out the pathology results until Tuesday or Wednesday.

The post op recovery was excellent due to some new techniques to control pain. Scott has an epidural and a pain pump and was comfortable for the day. It is so unusual for him not to be throwing up violently after surgery and be in uncontrolled pain. Such a blessing.

I do not know what will happen tomorrow, but today was a great day. I am out of my mind tired and will write more when I am a little more sane (that may take a few months).

Thank you for all of your prayers. They worked overtime as we truly have felt carried and blessed thru out the whole day.

BG (blogger's guilt)

Ok, ok. So Utah drivers are not THAT bad. It is an adjustment to drive with so many people around. I am so used to Rexburg where a traffic jam is just as likely to have been caused by livestock as it is by too many cars on the road. I've been having BG(bloggers guilt) over complaining about Utahan's. Most everyone has been nice (not as nice as New York City, but nice).

Scott has had a pretty rough day. I was grateful we were seeing the drs anyway because he was so sick this morning. I know he is in trouble when he asks me not to leave the room and suggests we call the nurse.

Our surgeon ordered one liter of IV fluids and, after he reviewed the blood-work, ordered another. It helped tons. Dehydration has been a major problem all summer.

Both of the drs that we saw today were extremely optimistic about the surgery on Friday. Scott is, understandably, not excited.

Wednesday, we go in for Scott's pre-op blood-work and dr. appointment. The exploratory laparotomy isn't until Friday (We are stressed out of our gourds).

That leaves the whole day Thursday to pick our noses and flick boogers at aggressive, Utah drivers.

Utahan's have this built in, irritation ray that burns the back of the your head if you are not driving 85+. I feel it a lot.

Some people are not satisfied with tailgating and singeing the back of your head. Did you know that if you drive the speed limit in the diamond lane that someone in a too clean, white SUV will pull up beside you, honk and shake his fist at you?

Sometimes, it is such a relief to drive behind someone old, even if they drive just below the speed limit. Utahan's don't feel as obligated to run you off the road if it is clearly not your choice to drive as reasonably as possible.

I do not think, by the way, that it is a coincidence that Utah has the shortest waiting time for transplants in the United States.

Thank You catch ups

We're home and happy to be all done with radiation therapy. Neither of us would recommend it as a proper recreational activity.

Some thank you catch ups:

Our children have been especially patient and longsuffering this summer. We love them so much and are grateful their willingness to help. It has been a huge sacrifice on their part and they have adapted beautifully to this extreme challenge.

The Olpins have been so very kind to us this past summer. No one could compete with their hospitality or emotional support. No one could compete with Bill's jokes either, but we're not complaining.

Our neighborhood and ward family has been fabulous. Our lawn has never looked better and we are still eating off the 40 or so pounds of meat they precooked for us at the beginning of the summer.

Our parents have truly endured this trial with us summer as they have parented our children in our place. I love that the kids had plenty of jobs to earn their privileges. We have such great parents.

The phone calls are always appreciated. We love to hear about anything strange or funny going on in other people's lives as it is a great distraction.

We are so grateful to the faculty at BYUI for their love and support. The amazon gift card has been put to great use.

The cards and packages have been great, thank you. Scott's students, past and present, pooled together original artwork cards. Our favorite package was from Jared. He sent a load of See's candy and a bigger load of dental supplies to repair the damage.

A special thanks to Emmalee, Lily, and Hydee for responding to my blog. It is nice to know that someone reads the trash I write and I love reading what is going on in your lives.

Thank you to everyone else that has blessed our lives. We love you and are grateful for all that you do.

How, exactly, do you pray for a donor?

I am happy that Scott slept well last night and has had relatively no nausea with this new radiation.

He was wondering why it makes him so tired. In my mind I am thinking, "Because they are killing off your liver."

Two more treatments and we are all done with radiation. That just leaves the surgery next week and the transplant. Sounds simple enough.

I am praying that a donor presents itself while he is in surgery and he just wakes up with a new liver.

So, if you pray for a donor to come quickly, do you pray for someone's demise to come sooner than it wouldh've been had you not prayed? Do you pray for your donor... or just their organs? To be sure, you must pray for their family.

Traditionally, prayer has been more of a casual habit/bedtime routine from my childhood used for venting and making repetive requests.

Lately, I have truly felt the powers of heaven move on our behalf in direct and prompt response to my prayers. So much so has this been, that I have had to reevaluate what I pray for. Since I am sure to mess everything up, I think it safe to state what I think I need, but pray for God's will to be done...........Well, as long as it fits in with what I want:)

Some chicken with that grease might be nice.

I have been feeling pretty worn out......Ok, so I have been a little depressed...............Ok, ok, so I am basket case.

This summer has just drug on and on. I can't hardly remember life before all this or imagine being all done.

I was feeling picked on until we went for treatment this afternoon.

There was a 60ish woman holding a baby that couldn't have been more than 2 months old. She had a 4 year old boy playing on the big, wooden puzzle cube thingy in the corner. Her son entered the waiting area and called his neighbors to have them meet the kids when they get off the bus because "things were running late". So he had at least 3 young children and a newborn.

They wheeled out his wife from treatment. She was about my age and build, but totally emaciated. Her eyes were hollow, dark circles and mostly vacant. Too weak to walk, and too drugged to think.

I felt the blood leave my lips and realized that this, what Scott and I are dealing with, is nothing. Anything we've been thru doesn't even hold a candle to that.

It's pretty humbling and it hit me hard.

It was too big a challenge to not cry the whole way home so I settled for half way. It made me crave the only true comfort food I know.

Now, since I just ate most of a bucket of fried chicken last Friday (enter southward migration of buns), I figure that it is just asking to have a heart attack by midnight if I do it again today. I settled for 4 chicken strips from Arctic Circle and a fudgesicle from Jan's fridge and am still fighting the pull of Smith's deli down the street.

I don't really care that I am not hungry, I just want to eat.

Scott is sleeping. Usually, he is fighting off nausea and terrible abdominal discomfort about now. Perhaps, since the stomach doesn't get zapped with the internal radiation he won't get sick. I vote for that.

I vote that Scott sleeps peacefully the rest of the week, waking only to finish out these last 3 radiation treatments. All in favor?

so, so

So, it's my birthday.

I've had better birthdays.

When I was 7ish, my whole family pretended it wasn't my birthday but held a big surprise party that night with a cake decorated like a patchwork quilt.

For my 16th birthday, we went to the Jets concert at Ricks College.

Eddie Pincock took me to the Blackfoot fair for my 18th birthday. He kissed me at the top of the ferris wheel right before I leaned over the side to throw up.

There's a couple other birthday memories but they are just kind of blurred together into one collective birthday.

It hasn't been a bad birthday. M. made the most unique card I have ever received. She turned a gallon plastic bag inside out, wrote a sweet note and turned it right side out. She then covered the back with duct tape so that the writing would show up. It's really something. I stole a little tape off the back to stick it on the fridge.

Lots of loves and hugs from the kids before we left this morning.

Both my mom and my mother-in-law gave me cash which I am hoarding until I find just the right clearance item to spend it on.

Really, once you're over 30, birthdays just aren't that fun. You just get older and flabbier. It's hard to tell where your buns end and your thighs begin (Oh, never mind, I just found that point. It's that crease behind my knees). I've started to notice wrinkles that can't be attributed to smiling and the store clerk last week called me ma'am. I feel old and crabby. I feel like I know things that only really old people should know (like my sister who just turned 38). I'm having a hard time celebrating all that.

Scott will finish radiation treatment this week. He is just holding on trying to get thru today and then the next and then the next.

I had no idea that cancer treatment would be this harsh. I assumed that the physical aspect would be difficult. I didn't anticipate the mental/emotional price to be so high.

to be continued......

Scott has a new infection with the biliary drain. He has been miserable for the last few days, hurting joints along with everything else. I hauled his hiney in yesterday for a shot of rocephin. I am hoping he will feel better tommorrow.

I am tired and overwhelmed.

M. has been a huge help to me here at home. We cleaned the house together and she is in charge of the laundry. She takes on a lot of responsibility and does her best to keep everyone happy. I am so grateful to have her.

To be fair, N. wiped the kitchen down and JA has watched C. I have had great help.

We leave Tuesday morning to have Scott's drain replaced with one with two lumens, one solid for radiation and one with holes for drainage. Wednesday, Thursday and Friday are for brachytherapy where they advance a radioactive wire into Scott's liver using a robot.

a little rant does me good

Yesterday, we met our new medical oncologist. He wanted to know if we do any stupid, high risk things like talking on the cell phone while driving, or not wearing our seatbelts. He stressed that if you are given a great prognosis in the face of what is generally considered uncurable, you should take extra precautions so as to not lose your life some other, trivial way. If they are going to work so hard to save us the least we could do is live well.

For the dry run, our interventional radiologist tried to advance a wire thru his biliary drain to the area where they think the cancer is. The dr didn't anticipate that the wire would not be flexible and would go thru the drainage holes and poke his liver. A new catheter will have to be placed. It is actually two catheters, one for drainage and one solid tube for the wire. It is only available thru the Mayo clinic in Minnesota because no one else does this procedure. Since Scott is the first to have this procedure at the U, they are still learning and working out the bugs. I guess someone has to be the first(being first is only really good if you are in the lunch line in gradeschool). I guess at least this is a problem they can fix and it is not life threatening. It's just a bummer that this will be Scott's 4th biliary drain.

Both our radiology oncologist and our interventional radiologist were thrilled to see that, where the radiation treatments were directed, the biliary tree looks completely normal. There are no signs of cancer or PSC. We were sent to the University hospital because no one but the most experienced gastroenterologists have been able to navigate thru the tight maze of strictures. Only one dr has even seen beyond the opening of the left branch of his biliary tree and now it is open and beautiful. They are so excited because this is a great side effect of the radiation that was completely unexpected.

This is such great news for Scott and it really could have an impact on how psc is treated. It would be a huge deal if drs were able to erase serious strictures in patients that otherwise have little quality of life. They might be able to prevent the torturous cirrhosis and liver failure typical of this disease.

On the online support group for psc there are so many children and young people with this disease. You can feel the anguish everyone has that there is no real treatment for psc. They can only treat the symptoms as the disease tediously progresses to complete liver failure. I hope, I hope they pursue this.

If I ever make a million(it might take several) I am going to devote it to research for the actual treatment of psc. I want a treatment that doesn't involve your liver literally dying before you can receive a liver transplant. I want a treatment that saves your own liver. I want a cure.

I also want a specific cancer marker for cholangiocarcinoma found. High risk patients(everyone with psc) should be effectively screened and diagnosed earlier. It shouldn't be an absolute miracle to survive cholangiocarcinoma. It stinks that 90% of people diagnosed with CAA are completely untreatable because they cannot find it soon enough.

Enough rant.

More good news:

Scott recieved an email from a bow tie manufacturer who has taken a second look at his patterns submitted years ago. They are excited about his patterns and want to use them. They are even more excited about the patterns he has on his web site. Scott is the king of patterns. He literally has hundreds of patterns. He loves, loves making patterns. I'm excited because it will give him a constructive diversion for the months to come.

Scott also recieved a great review from Jordan School disctrict. They can't live without Un-Brella. Love it!

There was something else but I can't remember. Oh, well.

Scott feels like a truck has hit him and threw up this morning but I just feel happy to be home. I am happy that my kids have been so good for the grandparents. I'm happy that the kids got off to school this morning with their teeth brushed(never mind the hair). I'm so happy and amazed that we are actually making our way thru this jungle. I just feel blessed.

a pretty good day

Scott worked all morning on a book he has been developing. He finished a rough dummy and sent it to his editor. Even when he is completely healthy that is a big accomplishment.

I love the book. It is about mosquitoes that mix colors and then die.

Personally, I am trashed and working on a bare minimum level. I spent the morning in bed vegetating, commited to doing absolutely nothing all day. It was only the prospect of driving Scott to Zippy-Ship that got me showered and dressed. Perhaps, it was the prospect of getting me out of bed and showered that drove Scott to finish the book dummy. I guess we are good for each other.

Last night, Scott dreamed that our friend was making a hillbilly movie in the shop next door. His wife starred in it with some other actor. She and this other man got out of an old pickup truck. The man reached over, picked a cootie out of her hair, ate it and said, "Mmmmm...."

They were just coming one after another last night, every couple of minutes. After about the third one, I checked out, too tired to care anymore. They're all just as bizarre as bizarre can get.

Scott's home

Scott came home last night. He isn't feeling great but at least he is in his own bed. The radiation clinic said it should be but a few days before he feels better. We are so happy to be done with that section of treatment.

The kids had a good first day of school. N. teacher looks like Miss Honey on Matilda. No one has the Trunch so we're all happy.

C. and I are having a great time. She just informed me that this was enough and that it is her turn on the computer. I suppose it is enough and that it is her turn.

by the way.....

There were 65 spiders total in my spider trap.

Thank You, John and Kathy!!!

Scott's parents have traded me places for this last week of radiation for Scott. I am so grateful to be here for the kids' first week of school. It has been a real gift. Thank You so much.

It's been a good day. The kids have tried really hard to help out and have even made an effort to get along. There were only 2 time outs and 3 meltdowns if you include mine. It has been as normal of a day as we've had since May.

N. says she doesn't want to go to school but since we are having a scheduled practice in the morning with alarms set and everything, I think they are all excited and ready. We have dentist appointments at 8:30 so it should be a pretty good practice.

I talked with Scott earlier today and he sounded well. Just two more treatments this week. Yeah!!! Now we just have stuff next week and some more the next week and surgery the next week and then he can have a transplant and spend months recovering. Put that way it doesn't sound like we are getting anywhere fast but time really keeps passing and we are progressing and getting thru this one day at a time.

Getting thru all this puts new meaning to "fight against cancer" or "battling cancer" phrases. It is literally a mental fight to get thru the treatment, to keep going. I am not even getting the treatments and I have felt like putting my arms and legs up and laying on the side of the road like a bloated racoon. Not pretty, but tempting after seeing what Scott and others are up against. I am amazed that anyone gets thru it let alone so many people. I feel a lot of respect for cancer survivors.

The best way to dip an oreo

#1) Squish ever so gently the oreo.

#2) Slowly twist the cookies apart, making absolutely sure that the frosting is spread on both cookies.

#3) Place one cookie, frosting side down, onto the end of a spoon. It is supposed to stick to the spoon.

#4) Dip the spoon into a glass of milk. Soak the cookie as long as you wish.

#5) Eat the cookie. Make sure you lick the frosting off the spoon.

#6) Repeat #s 3-5 for remaining cookie.

Oh, by the way...that was a blessing

Scott's biliary drain got caught on his clothes and pulled almost out last night. Not a life or death problem but a real pain to deal with.

The dr this morning was able to get the drain in without any problem at all. Even though the drain was all but out, when he injected dye it showed a clear path clear thru his abdominal cavity into his liver and bile duct. The dr just guided his little wire right thru and slipped a new tube in. (Answer to prayers, thank you)

The dr was surprised to find a gross pussy infection right under the insertion sight and prescribed some antibiotics. Scott has had some fevers. No one has been able to figure out why so I hope this resolves that problem. One of our other physicians said that the creamy green drainage looked like mucus and wasn't worried about it. Apparently, it is a problem and I think it is a blessing the dr found it. I wouldh've just continued to ignore it till it was a crisis.

Scott's latest drug-induced dreams include some helpful inventions; a popcorn bowl that sorts out the old maids and the absolute best way to dip oreos. I won't tell you his secrets in case he wants to patent these ideas.

Lots of his dreams have a farm theme. He dreamed up a restaurant named Heavenly Chicken where chickens are killed upon ordering and a little chicken ghost floats up the side of the wall to join the other chicken ghosts. People can keep track of how many chickens were slaughtered each day for their meals.

He doesn't remember the "I went to different farms for the pigs to give birth in the back seat of my car" dream but he really did tell me about it.

There's the cow video game with udders as the controllers. To turn right you milk the right udder really fast......you get the idea.

I am sure there will be a lot more due to the fact that he is coming out of anesthesia and will be heavily medicated for several days. That's something to look forward to.

sigh.....

John and Kathy brought the kids down for the weekend. It was really great to see and snuggle them.

Yesterday, they played with cousins from Provo and Washington and had such a great time.

Today, we drove up to Heber City for the Carroll reunion. They had some great activities for all the kids; bows and arrows, handmade dolls, icecream in a bag, ring on a stick. Charlotte loved the paper and stickers but her all time favorite was washing socks on the old washboard and hanging them up on a line. It was really fun. Kudos for the organizers. I'm sure it was so much work.

Scott stayed home, well here at Jan and Bill's house. He is working on a snowflake that is to be auctioned off with other artist-decorated snowflakes as part of a benefit for cancer research. It's adorable.

It just kicks my hiney to send the kids home to Idaho and stay here. We won't be home in time for when school starts. My heart just hurts because I know they're so stressed about everything and I'm not there to be the constant that they need and I won't be for months to come. It is my deepest hurt.

Anyway, they are being very good for the grandparents and trying hard to help each other and get along. I am so proud of them.

M. and N. were so kind to check on the spider trap for me this last week. They say that only one sticky trap does not have a spider on it(there are 16) and that several have lots and lots of big crunchy hobos.

I'm just so happy when my brilliant, evil schemes work.

blah blah blah

Scott is doing fine. He had a pretty good day for most of the day and slept well. He is sleeping a lot this morning, also, which I don't mind in the least as it seems to be the only time he is not uncomfortable.

The kids seem to be doing fine at my mother's house.

We are not planning to come home this weekend. Scott's parents are tenatively planning to attend a reunion nearby and drop the kids off for the day. They will pick them up on their way home.

We most likely will not be home until the 24th of August. blah blah blah.....blah blah blah......

Shoving pills and liquids

Scott has felt absolutely terrible since Saturday afternoon with nausea, some vomiting and just today, a low grade fever. He's feels quite weak, also.

Scott recieved 2 bags of IV fluid yesterday. It helped with his passing outish behaviors. He didn't ever pass out. He was always just feeling like it.

We are told that sometimes with treatment there can be a fever. Since his bloodwork looks fine and he's allready on an antibiotic I can only shove pills and liquids down his throat and watch him carefully.

We had an appointment with an opthomologist(cross off another ist). He doesn't know why Scott's vision was blurry but his eyes look healthy. There is some residual blurriness but he is legal to drive. The dr gave him a prescription for low strength glasses but now that he might really need them he's not very interested.

On a lighter note, there were 7 spiders stuck in my super-duper spider trap when we left yesterday morning. I can't hardly wait to check on it when we get home.

Mwah! Ha! Ha!.....

I'm feeling a little evil.

I set a huge spider trap up in the basement. It involves a large wet towel surrounded by sticky traps. (By sad experience I have learned that wet towels are indeed their favorite.) The doors and baseboards also have sticky traps. You would have to be a very talented spider to move anywhere in the basement.

I have bug bombed before and it is not easy or pleasant. It leaves corpses all over and you have to wash everything down. So, I decided to opt for the most eco-friendly and energy efficient method.

They may be more eco-friendly, but I don't think sticky traps are the most spider friendly way to go. If I were a spider, I would rather die quickly by being squished or poisoned than slowly on a sticky trap. The sticky traps I purchased at Walmart do happen to boast a natural anesthetic so at least they won't be in pain. Leave it to Walmart to think of everything.

So, the kids are safely delivered to beloved grandparents(Bless You and Thank You!!).

Scott is miserable with a mixture of nausea, vomiting, hunger and a general restlessness that prohibits any sleep. Medications seem to do very little and only for a short time. I do not know how to help or comfort him. It makes the next few weeks seem like a very long time.

I am entertaining myself with delusions of a spider free house and trying to get everything packed and ready to go yet again.

I also plan to clean up the house a bit. My favorite method is to cram everything into a laundry basket and hide it in the washroom. It works.