Two days ago on a beautiful spring day in Seattle it was time
for car-washing. Two dirty cars were
backed out of our garage and then vacuumed and washed by our very own resident
car washer (with occasional help from his brother) who has had years of
practice. Fifteen years ago I wrote in my
journal “Phil washed Paul’s old car and the van (the Tuckermobile) so I said to
Phil yesterday when he asked to be paid as we were arriving up here (Whistler,
our vacation destination) and I passed him a dollar (and he was excited!) and
said 'You are one of the best deals around.' And he said 'I’m not a deal—I’m
your son.' We got a good laugh out of
that.”
Friday, April 26, 2013
Sunday, April 7, 2013
THE BIG DAY
For Clark’s birthday he received a sheet of paper from his
brother, Adam, who is just younger than by 20 months and on the paper were
words that said Adam would take Clark golfing.
That was 15 months ago, December 8, 2011 , and Clark had still not redeemed
his gift despite many requests. Finally
a few weeks ago Adam asked if Clark would like to go golfing the following
Saturday. Clark was not feeling well because
of seizures but that question brought a smile and a nod. The week preceding THE BIG DAY we talked
about going golfing with his brother and “no one else gets to go” morning, noon and night.
Finally
THE BIG DAY arrived. Paul went
downstairs at 7:30 a.m. Saturday morning and there on the couch in front of the
window was Clark—dressed with his shoes and coat on and his golf clubs in front
of him. Adam had called Clark the day
before and told him that they would be going golfing at 2:00. Clark has no concept of time. We do not know how long he had been sitting
there. I eventually told him to take off
his coat. He also had a sack with a
water bottle for each of them plus six granola bars. It was pretty touching. Paul took pictures and sent them to Adam so he
moved up the time to 11:00. They
returned home about 2:00 happy and talking about their adventure. It was nice to see them, our two oldest sons, doing
something special together.
Monday, March 4, 2013
The Flu Shot
I know that any trip to the doctor will be an adventure filled
with new memories but I didn’t think anything unusual would happen when I took
Clark and Phil to our local pharmacy a month ago to get their flu shots. Clark went first. He is the one who would gladly give blood at
the semi-annual blood drive at our church if he could but he can’t because he has
never had a seizure-free year. Then it
was Phil’s turn. He had already been
displaying high anxiety behavior--pacing, nervous laughter, jittery bouncing of
his legs while he waited. “Hold my
hand?” he asked me. Of course I
would. In went the needle, up went his
arm and out came the needle. In slow
motion I watched it fly up in the air, arch and drop to the floor. Imagine sounds of pain and fear and that
would be Phil at that moment. I actually
wanted to laugh because it looked so funny and was such a surprise. I asked the pharmacist if he had ever had
that happen before. “No!!!” Needless to say, Phil had to be poked
again. This time he turned his head so
he couldn’t watch, grabbed my hand tightly and successfully received his first
flu shot.
Saturday, February 23, 2013
My Hair
I
am here at my desk working on my lesson for Tuesday Institute. Running my hand through my very short hair (1
½ inches in most places) I can feel a small chunk of food, probably left behind
by one of the kids. It made me
smile. I continue to get lots of head
rubs from the family and daily comments about my hair like “Why’s your hair so
soft?” “Don’t wear your wig--your hair
looks cute.” I’ve told the family it
will probably be another few months—another inch or more of hair. I know I would be a shock to most people. My family is used to seeing me, even months
with no hair. I have never felt sad
about my hair which I lost two weeks after I began chemo. Much of that has to do with a very complimentary
family, especially Paul.
Phil
can’t resist licking his fingers and trying to smooth down my hair each time he
sees me. He is constantly telling me
with much enthusiasm that I need a haircut (my hair is longer than his) and
that he will give it to me—for free.
What a deal!
Tuesday, February 5, 2013
Forgotten
We came home from a meeting (the three drivers under our
roof) at 10:00 a.m. last Saturday. We
pulled into the garage and there in the doorway leading from the garage into
the house were Clark and Phil, dressed and with their coats and shoes on. They were supposed to be at the bowling alley
over an hour earlier and the designated driver (a married brother who lives two
miles away) had forgotten to pick them up and deliver them to the bowling alley
five miles away. I looked at my sons
standing there dressed and ready and still so expectant and innocent. They just knew their brother would come. It tugged at my heart. We called the negligent driver and found him
very repentant when he was told what he had forgotten. Clark and Phil don’t have a current phone
number for him but may not have called anyway since they were unaware how much
time had elapsed. There will be no more
conflicts this bowling season since it will be coming to an end in two weeks
and won’t start up again until August.
Track and Field practice begins the middle of March.
Thursday, January 3, 2013
Just Ask Clark
It was 6:00 p.m. and we were driving to our #3 son’s house
for hors d’oeuvres, the first stop for an extended family progressive dinner we
were hosting this year. There, just up
the hill in front of us, was the mailman who usually delivers our mail at 3:00. Seeing him made me wonder how many mailmen
delivered in Seattle so I decided to ask Clark.
“Clark, how many mailmen are there in Seattle?”
“One….no, two….no, three!
Three!”
I reminded him that his sister-in-law’s brother-in-law
delivered also.
“Four. There are four
mailmen.”
So, if you have a burning question, just ask Clark, he will
know the answer.Sunday, November 4, 2012
The Eyelashes
The eyelashes (and hair) are coming back. The hair loss side effect of chemo has been
most interesting. A week and a half after starting chemo back in April I
noticed a lot of hair in my hairbrush. I
was hoping to be part of the small percentage who does not lose hair but it was
not to be. By two weeks minus one day
when I took a shower and washed my hair, there in the brushout was a mountain
of hair. That was it. I went in for chemo the next day, left after
my treatment and drove (actually my husband did the driving) to the hair salon
where I had purchased a wig before I even began chemo. I told the woman I was there to pick up my
wig and have my head shaved. “I don’t
want to see myself.” I told her so she
buzzed off the hair, put on the wig and then turned me toward the mirror. It was not until I got home that my curiosity
got the best of me. I took off my wig,
peeked around a corner and peered into the bathroom mirror. “Not as bad as I thought it would be.” I
thought and then came around the corner and stood in front of the mirror for
inspection. “Weird hairdo!” Phil told
me. But the family soon got used to
seeing me without hair as we headed into the summer months. A few months later the eyebrows and the
eyelashes fell out.
Now that chemo is over and the hair is starting to grow, one of Phil’s favorite things is taking off my wig when
I come home and rubbing my head while telling me how soft my hair is. I have gotten quite a few head rubs in the
past couple of weeks from him and others in the family and daily comments on noticeable growth. My hair grows slowly so it will probably be
many months before I go out in public without a head covering but at least for
now I can put mascara on my very short eyelashes.
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