Home Again . . .

. . . .after hitting rush hours in several metropolitan areas due to my exquisite sense of timing.

Today we went with my mother to the oncologist, Dr. Mathur.  He cared for my father after Dad was diagnosed with lung cancer, and he also counts a few of my mother's friends among his patients and who give him good reviews.

First, the children behaved well during the appointment. Second, my mother behaved well, even though the full impact of what she's up against thwacked her over the head in a manner that was almost straight out of a Roadrunner/Wile E. Coyote cartoon.

Chemotherapy.  She anticipated that one.  Not a problem.  Looks like she'll be getting Cytoxan and Taxotere every three weeks for six cycles, and Dr. Mathur says she will not lose her hair.

Having a port implanted by which the chemotherapy would be administered.   Not so much.  Did not go over well at all, like a fart in church as my father would say. Her face showed everything from petulance to just being pissed.

Radiation after chemotherapy.  Didn't see that one coming at all.  This took us both by surprise, but it's also more than four months down the road and it is because of the size of her tumor, 4.3 centimeters, and anything above four size-wise should have it.

So after getting yet another folder of information for my mother to peruse, and with a tentative start date for chemotherapy of November 30th, we sent back to Wall's Bakery and bought more of the massive eclairs, and six chocolate-frosted donuts.  For the therapeutic power of chocolate, naturally.

Then we dropped my mother off for her manicure appointment.  Mom was in desperate need of some grown-up time, since Micah was back in Manic Chatter Monkey mode.  We headed for the little red caboose again (just across the tracks from the nail salon, but we drove anyway) and then to Oma's Special Park to kill 90 minutes before picking up my mother burning off some energy.

At the park, Thea and Micah entertained themselves for the most part, until they were joined by a little blond cherub.  LBC was about four, just in between my two age-wise. And he also combined the balls to the wall energy of Micah with the bossiness of Thea.  Just an ugly, ugly combination.  After listening to him for five minutes, I was ready to toss him down the near well or mine shaft.  Fortunately Thea snapped out of it, asked what grade he was in (Pre-K) and then asserted herself.  Micah was just the happy little synchophant, happy to be bossed around by any and all comers.

This gave me time to phone the surgeon's office and have a chat with the same nice lady I spoke with last week - just wanted to see if we needed to call about the port or would that be one of the topics that Dr. Personality would bring up at the two week follow up appointment.

After Micah and I fetched Oma from her manicure, with me finding that the O.P.I. nail polish color 'Suzi Skis the Pyrenees' was not the cool blue from whatever magazine at LabCorp, but a heinous, sooty grey, we made another trip to Hunan Star III.  Dumplings and egg drop soup for the kids, chow mein lunch specials for the grown-ups.  I know chow mein is about as un-Chinese as you can get as far as the cuisine goes, but the chow mein at this place totally evokes the memories of the chow mein at the Great Wall on Hamilton Street in Hyattsville which was my first memory of Chinese food. An authentic, edible childhood memory.

Then we went back to Oma's to pack up.  So far the only thing I left behind is a copy of the New Yorker magazine I was reading.  But we're going to be back again on Friday, so no big deal.

Micah slept from Waldorf to the Delaware toll, so he's wired for sound. Thea brushed her teeth, put her pajamas on and went to bed, and tonight she was so tired that the usual "I'm scared when I'm alone" didn't even come up.

And miracle of miracles, I am on call this weekend and there have been NO CALLS.  I've checked in with the answering service twice.  And I know I am cursing myself by putting this into words, but since I'm no longer in the car, and I have my computer at the ready, I don't care.

Tomorrow, the Penn Kresge Challenge walk in Philadelphia for T. and me, back in the car once again.