Eulogy for My Mother

Margaret May Grebe

Born April 2, 1929 in Baltimore, Maryland

Lived in Washington, DC; Hyattsville, Maryland; Bolingbrook, Illinois;

Waldorf and La Plata, Maryland

Died January 4, 2013 in Plainsboro, New Jersey

Several years ago, when my mother was first diagnosed with breast cancer she specifically said that she did not want me to blog or post on Facebook anything about her illness.  In April 2012 she learned that the disease had metastasized to her lungs and liver, and in November, we learned that it had further spread to her brain.  Four days into 2013, she lost the fight, peacefully, gracefully and on her own terms.

I will be forever thankful to the family and friends who helped and supported her from the time she was first diagnosed in 2009, to her New Jersey oncologist and radiation oncologist for the thoughtful care provided her in the late stages of her fight, and to Princeton Hospice who made the last week of her life comfortable.

So now I am trying to learn how to live without having Mom around.  I still want to pick up the phone or go to her room when something happens and I need someone to listen to me ramble, rant and rave. One of her best skills was listening while not trying to 'fix' everything that was being ranted about.  She knew when it was just steam that needed to be release, and that is a gift.

There are recipes that I wanted her to teach me, Rouladen, Bohnesalat, red cabbage, cucumber salad - the vinegar-based one and the sour cream-based cream one and more, but I will try on my own to figure it out or head to Florida where Mom's cousin, Mina lives.  Micah loves Oma's scrambled eggs, which use the same ingredients that I use, but somehow the 'Oma touch' elevated them to a new culinary level.  Thea's favorite is Oma's stuffed peppers, though she aggravates Oma as I once did by not eating the pepper shell - and my mother was much more indulgent of this in a grandchild.  I will miss going to the German Deli in Virginia with her.

Mom's chocolate chip cookies simply go down as legendary, and she said that she did nothing other than put a sprinkle of water over the dough.

I am also remembering all the things she has taught me.  First and foremost, how to be a good friend.  Mom had a gift for keeping in touch with people, she wrote notes, cards, sent off articles and other things that she thought the recipient would enjoy.  I received more mail in one year from Mom than most of my friends got in four years of college.  She would do anything for her friends and family and her door was always open.  And she became friends with a number of our friends.  I was still bringing friends home, even while I was in nursing school.

Mom taught me that it is important to be present and involved in your children's lives by volunteering to be a room mother, helping with the Girl Scouts.

And she was always open to new things.  She was not afraid to try line-dancing, and continue trying, and continue to try, because she enjoyed doing it.  (I on the other hand accepted my total lack of rhythm and coordination from an early age.) She tried out various crafts, with varying degrees of success, and I think part of it was more to enjoy the company of her friends than the finished product.

I am thankful to all those who were able to take time on a cold, grey day to attend Mom's service.  I thought because of the almost two weeks time that had elapsed between the time she died to the first available date for burial at the Maryland Veterans Cemetery that my feelings would not be as raw.  And then my nine-year old daughter who has only been playing the viola for three months played Beethoven's Ode to Joy at the beginning of the service, and then the neighbor who lived across the street from Mom in Waldorf told how things that Mom just did because that was just Mom were so very meaningful to her even now, and I was just sunk.  The advantage of being in the front row was that I was close to a box of tissues.

And to all those who have sent cards with kind words and a memory of Mom to share with us, thank you as well.

I am thankful to my brother, who made all the arrangements for the viewing, funeral and luncheon. 

I will love her and miss her forever, I know that wherever she has gone, cancer did not go with her.  Most of all, thank you, Margaret Grebe, for being my mother.  I wish I had had the composure to say this on Thursday.

Closing Out 2011

It's Hanukkah already?  Micah's first year lighting candles on his own.  We live for danger, and the fire extinguisher is just ten feet away.

And so it begins. . . .

Seriously, Mom?  A puppy hat?

Christmas Day, after starting to cook dinner but before we remembered the stockings.

Dinner, with stuffing recipes courtesy of Mom and Mina

Creamed Spinach, Mom's recipe again, two thumbs up from Thea and it only took one call to Florida

The stunned look of people who realized that Mom cooked an entire holiday dinner and it's actually edible.

Photo by Emad Al Junaidi:  Dinner stop at Annapolis Mall on the way home from dropping off Oma.  Front row: Micah, Nadia and Thea, back row: Norah, Janet and me

11:59:59 pm New Year's Eve, Rocking in 2012 with a gang who knows how to party

Thea's contribution to the Third Grade Heritage Festival on December 23, 2011, German cookies

Second Night of Hanukkah

Christmas Eve, after the children were snug in their bed

The 2011 Christmas Card Photo

Our last day of 2011 included a trip to the Apple store at Freehold Mall to sort out an issue with an iTunes card.  It affirmed all the reasons why I prefer shopping online.  Noise, chaos both in the mall and particularly in the Apple store, and no parking.  Fortunately the geek girl helped me sort out the issue and by the time we were home, the email with the resolution to the problem was in my in-box.

The holidays were good, it was the first Christmas spent in New Jersey for us.  We're usually in Maryland with my mother - and I have been with my mother for every Christmas, ever.  And this year was no different because after opening presents, making Christmas dinner, I flew to Tampa to fly home the next day with my mother who was visiting her cousin.  Sauerkraut, red cabbage, lentil soup and roast pork - a second, near midnight Christmas dinner.   Sauerkraut and lentil soup for breakfast.  Heaven.

Oma spent another night with us on her way home to Maryland, which the kids loved - though out six hour drive in the rain down I-95 back to LaPlata no one loved.  On our way back home to New Jersey we met up with our friends at the Cheesecake Factory, and the kids got to torture Uncle Emad while I got to catch up with Aunt Janet.

Good-bye to 2011, you were a decent year, for me at least.  The kids are doing well, are happy and healthy.  Micah is in a 'regular' kindergarten, Thea is in third grade at Wicoff Elementary. This is the last year they will be in the same school until Thea's last year of high school and Micah's first.

Fast Fragments

If video killed the radio, Facebook is on its way to killing the blog.  November was (once) National Blog Post Month where bloggers would try to write a post for all thirty days.  I decided to take in a new direction and not post at all.  Not a single day.

Not that there wasn't stuff going on, the perfect storm of time to write, my laptop and energy for the task.

So now we're in December, soccer is over, our trip to Oma's for the National Lutheran Home's Fall Festival is past, parent-teacher conferences were held, Thanksgiving came and went, the Christmas tree is up, the Wicoff School Third Grade Chorus concert was a success and the downhill roll to Christmas and Hanukkah is in full swing.

In the meantime, Micah has acquired a TOD (teacher of the deaf) who comes to his classroom a few times per week to work with him on his listening skills.  He's a sponge for any special attention, so he seems to enjoy working with her.

So basically I'm waiting for the Winter Solstice and the feeling that there is even just a shred more daylight at the end of the day. . . .

Photos to be added when time permits.  I'm happy that I finally got one good shot of the kids to be used for our holiday card, and the cards might actually get mailed out right around Christmas. . . . .

Below the Mason-Dixon Line

Thea, Micah and I drove down to Oma's Wednesday night.  The roads were clear, one or both of the children took naps and I listened to 102.7 FM out of Baltimore and time-traveled back to the music of college.  We had take-out KFC for dinner, and by 11 pm the kids were packed off to bed and I could open the laptop and finish up a few charts.

In my monocular focus to get from point A to point B, I didn't even notice there is no snow  on the ground here.  No piles of snow in the parking lot.

We're going to the German Deli over in Virginia today.  Must replenish the Kinderschokolade supply.

Christmas Photos

It takes a snow day to finally update the blog,

and thanks to today's snow day if it takes a village

  to raise a child, and I am in the market for a village or two

willing to take my two

for awhile.

In no particular order. . .

Micah on New Year's Eve, plastic champagne flute with ginger ale.

He made it to midnight, his sister gave up at 11:20 pm or so.

 We made a gingerbread house at Omas's.

 We got chilled to the bone at the ICE! show.

The little Whos in Whoville.

 The roast beast.

 You're a mean one, Mr. Grinch.

 Breakfast with The Grinch at the Gaylord.

Steve, Micah and Max, The Grinch's dog, who looked more gherkin green than brown.

 Two Grinches.

Now this is The Grinch I know and love.

I adore that devious expression on his face.

Ringing Out/Wringing Out 2010

 Last day of the year, one that I think was a good one for all of us, despite the quantity of whining found here.

(My) Mom finished her chemotherapy on March 15, 2010, and has grown back her hair which has turned more silver and curly.  Now if she's just take the wig and wig stand off of her dresser;  it looks like an aging Peruvian guinea pig.  She is back to being feisty enough to resent the follow up appointments with her oncologist, and one day she may realize that wrestling with unruly hair is better than wrestling with the after effects of chemo (though I give her major props for making chemo look easy.)

We moved to our new house on July 9, 2010, and most of the worst traces of the former owners' horrible decorating choices were eliminated by last week.  (Good-bye ugly brown powder room; old, dated borders around the top of most of the rooms upstairs; the dark,depressing royal blue bedroom with the blood red closet; the ugly green focus wall in the master bathroom, none of you will be missed.)  Thank you to Mike who offered good advice on colors, but also did not question some of my more quirky, Crayola choices.  I should have taken pictures of all the ugliness to regale you with the before and after of the transitions.

The kids had a good summer at their various camps; Micah is still talking about Princeton Friends Camp six months later and is anticipating going back.  Steve learned about the caring for the above-ground swimming pool at the new house, and the cost of the pool chemicals responsible for getting the pool to go from slimy green to blue did not bankrupt us.

We had a good week at Bethany Beach with Oma - our third trip back to a house that Thea and I first stayed at with Oma and Aunt Shannon in 2005 and we re-visited in 2007 just after returning from China with Micah.  This year we were joined by cousins for a night, which was wonderful.  Even if no one remembers the name of the hooker who rented a room from my great aunt (a room she called 'My Blue Heaven' according to my mother.)  The kids discovered boogie boarding and we learned that schlepping all the beach gear is so much easier with the little red wagon the children got from their aunt and uncle for Christmas last year.

Thea is involved with Girl Scouts, recreational soccer and ice skating, and for all that I might complain about missing her Mandarin-immersion school and the fury of the 2010 opening of the Mandarin charter school being thwarted, going to public school has made her more at ease in new social situations.

Micah had his second atresia surgery to construct his left ear canal on March 23, 2010, and a revision of his first surgery on September 28, 2010. We're probably the only parents to schedule surgeries around swimming lessons and pool/beach season, so that keeping him out of water didn't spoil his summer.  Micah's speech and language is on par with his normal hearing peers.  He loves his friends at his two preschools and is the social butterfly of the family.

We have a bottle of Sparkling White Grape Juice chilling in the refrigerator, Chinese take-out, chips and salsa and popcorn waiting.  Thea wants to stay up for the New Year.  Last year she fell asleep at 11:45 pm, this year she just might be awake for the arrival of 2011.

Happy (and healthy) New Year to all.  Thanks to all who have stopped by, and double thanks to those who have left comments along the way.

Beach Babies

Random photos of a vacation in progress. . . . .

Boys at the Beach

I wish I had pictures or video of tonight, but it actually was sort of nice just to be in the moment.  Micah and I were the advance troops heading to the beach house to get set up for everyone.  Thanks to horrible traffic, we made it to the real estate office at 4:50 pm (it closes at 5 pm) to pick up the keys.

We just had gotten the car unloaded when Shannon and Willi came over.  Willi is about three months older and several inches taller than Micah, but four years old is four year old, and boys are boys.  They were in competition over toys, racing through the house, playing outside and actually helped me make up a couple of the beds - and then they rolled and bounced all over it.  Fortunately the boys seemed to enjoy each others company and I actually got to enjoy being around another grown-up after four or more hours of "Are we there yet?" from my traveling companion.  (Note to self:  Next time put the Thule on the CRV, it holds up to 35 lbs - I think he'd still fit.....)  The balloons they give to children when leaving Grotto's were a nice incentive for Micah (they only give them to kids who eat well....another fabulous moment of emotional blackmail.)

After dinner, we went to the boardwalk for frozen custard.  Thanks to parking karma and a residential parking permit, we got a spot one block from Kohr's.

After we were back from the boardwalk, Micah and I went to the grocery store, with every other vacationer trying to get a jump on laying in supplies for their week at the beach.  I think we've got most of the basics covered - at least we won't starve for the next couple of days.

Steve just called, the rear guard is arriving in the next few seconds.  Yeah!  Family week at the beach starts now.  Boy passed out on the sofa, he was holding out to see his Daddy, Thea and Oma, but sleep finally won.

The humidity here is making wonder how the BAHA will do.  I remember the hearing aid dehumidifier, for a change.

Photos - Weekend in Pictures

Micah, Bill, Me, Jay, Mom, Thea

The Wedding Party

Bailah

Micah enjoying the wedding cake made by his cousin, Lynn

Thea

Yes, she's wearing a dress.  Just don't tell her it's a dress.

She thinks because she has shorts underneath, it's not a dress

The Treasure Hunt

or how the adults finished eating in peace

Mom, can I walk Chelsea?

The refrain for the weekend,
and then he walked her and dropped the leash.

I never knew that 50 year old cellulite could move
fast enough to catch her.

Bailing Out. . .

. . .leaving the cardboard kingdom behind tonight and heading down the NJ Turnpike and I-95 to my mother's.  Steve gets left behind to work on his own unpacking, getting rid of all the cardboard boxes that have been emptied and whatever.  Today the upstairs hallway is clear for the first time and I managed to store in one bathroom cabinet what we formerly had in three or four under the sink cabinets - and I replaced the door handles on the bathroom sink cabinet.  Pedestal sinks suck, new conclusion, alert the media.  And I emptied the last of the wardrobe boxes, except for the one that has my wedding dress (and who knows what else); the entire container has been exiled to the extra bedroom/office's closet, Scarlett O'Hara style.  I'll think about that tomorrow or the day after or the day after that.

Saturday we're headed to Frederick for a family event.  Sunday we might take my mother to see a friend in Waynesboro, Pennsylvania and Monday we head home to New Jersey.

Addendum:  Thea conked out by 9:00 pm while we were on the road, Micah is showing an increasing aptitude for staying awake at night while in the car.  He hung out with me, singing and talking - unfortunately much of the talking was of the "are we at Oma's yet?" variety and pithy observations of which cars had GPS systems and DVD players in them.  Both made a brief stop in the bathroom and shuffled right off to bed. They are such awesome little travelers at times. Granted, they will be up at between 6:00 am and 7:00 am and I'll still want to be dead to the world, but for now, it's all good.

Glad we weren't on the northbound side of I-95 tonight, just north of Big Gun Powder Falls.  It took me more than a few seconds to realize that I wasn't seeing any northbound traffic, then just before the Big Gun Powder Falls sign there were multiple police and fire/rescue vehicles, and all lanes were closed.

Phone Call from Mom

9:06 pm.  Phone rings.  I am sitting on the bed, wondering when the allergy medication is going to kick in and un-stuff my head.  Caller ID shows the call is from one of my mother's neighbors.  Automatic knot in stomach.  It's way past my mother's bed time, she usually rolls up the sidewalk and battens down the hatches early.

Me:  Hello?

Caller:  Steve?

Me:  No, Mommy, it's me, I'm still a little stuffy.

Mom:  Can you look up a phone number for a shuttle service from BWI airport for Joy?

Me (internal monologue): Hello to you, too.

Me:  Sure, let me pick up my laptop.

Mom  (aside to her friends, not quite a stage whisper):  See, I told you, she's always on that damn computer.

Me:  I'm looking, and I can hear you. . . .

Anyway, one quick jaunt through Google and I found Super Shuttle and the phone number for her.  Problem solved, thank you, damn computer.

I'm still waiting for the allergy medication to kick in AND also waiting to get by the one or two years of my life back from the phone call. 

(Mom was hanging with her peeps after going out to a performance of the Port Tobacco Players. )

In Maryland. . . .

. . .it's 9:05 am and the boy is still sleeping.  The older one is happily capturing Pokemon with her Nintendo DS, and I'm watching CBS Sunday Morning with my mother.

Yesterday we made our semi-annual pilgrimage to the National Lutheran Home for its Spring Festival.  It's lost much of the 'wow' factor that it had when I was a child; the event was formerly held on a Friday and my mother would parole me from school for the afternoon.

When we started going back to the Spring and Fall Festivals, there were still members of St. Peter's, the church I grew up in, living at the home.  Most have since died, and those that volunteered have gotten older and given over their responsibilities to others.  Not to mention that back in the 1980s, while we were living in Illinois, the Home moved from 18th and Douglas Streets in Northeast DC out to Rockville, Maryland.  Not much of the old, familiar other than the photographs of the original Home on one of the walls.

Now we got to see friends from Lewisdale who living in the Independent Living homes surrounding the Home, we go in memory of my grandmother who used to volunteer for years in the Stamp Room.  She would bring home bags filled with the corners of envelopes in them, soak the stamps off, put them between those sheets of newspapers to dry which she put under the pads on her dining room table to keep them flat.  It was a great way for a kid (me) to start a stamp collection.

Now the tradition is that Thea is given a budget of $5 (and Micah got $2) to spend as she likes.  Yesterday, she bought a sunflower pin for me ($0.25), because she said as she presented it to me "you are always buying things and doing things for us", she spent another $0.25 on an X-Men hand-held video game, and $2 on a used Othello game (ages 8+, she's been playing it since kindergarten).  Then as we were at the Ladies' Auxillary's table, petting Roxie one of the volunteer's dog,  Thea opened her purse and took out a dollar and made a donation to the Auxillary.  The volunteer wrote out a receipt for Thea because she was impressed.  Thea was impressed with the receipt and over the fuss that was made over her.

Meanwhile, Micah practiced deficit spending by finding one of our friend Eleanor's doll blankets with a puppy wrapped in it, so he handed over his $2, helped by another $10 from me.  ("But I L-O-V-E him, Mommy" and since he was being good at keeping his hands off to himself, how could I resist when its for a good cause?)  He scammed another Beanie Baby dog (in a hideous shade of aqua) from his Oma in the Grandma's Attic section.

Then after lunch at the Home comes the best part of the afternoon, we go to the Eleanor's and I buy quilts. This time I needed enough doll quilts for Micah's class, because next week is Q-week at his school and two nap quilts for gifts.  At school it is Q is for Quail week starting on Monday.  These children stand as much chance of seeing a real quail as I do of waking up skinny tomorrow morning, so to exert my influence that Q is for QUILT, dammit.  Screw the quails.

On the way home from Rockville, Micah fell asleep as we got on the Beltway, which revved him up enough so that we unloaded the car, switched from sandals to sneakers and went to Oma's Special Park (which is the kids' name for Laurel Springs Park in LaPlata).  I love that they are now at an age when I can say "go, run, just check in every now and then" and then I park myself on a bench to thumb through the Post's Sunday Magazine section.

They ran like maniacs for almost an hour, making friends with various children and drawing them into their games.  And after turning themselves into sweaty, panting messes, they were more than happy to go back to Oma's.

We had take-out from Hunan Star III.  Micah came with me to pick up the order.  Micah was his usually charming self, so the lady at the counter gave him a flower fan, the kind used to decorate drinks.  The best part was that one of the ladies working at the restaurant who is talking to Micah, says to me, "He is Chinese?"

Do you think?  Really?

But I politely said, "Yes."  Rather than try to pronounce Jinzhou, I said we traveled to Wuhan.  And then the woman said, "Yes, I knew he is Chinese."  Genius!  She is the Queen of the Amateur Anthropologists!  The whole world can look at Micah within about a nanosecond or so know that at sometime in this child's past there were family members who came from China.

Thea was so tired, she started falling asleep while waiting for Micah to finish his bath, so I gave her a pass on showering until Sunday morning.

I Can Be Replaced

Yesterday I was expecting to drive to Maryland to my mother's to accompany her to her fourth chemotherapy appointment today.

It was snowing in the Washington, DC area, according to my mother, and she didn't want me to drive in bad weather.  (Thank you to all the local TV stations who televised footage of traffic accidents and cars that had driven off the road.)   Supposedly the thought of me on the road would wind her up even more tightly than she is usually wound up (and she's pretty tightly wound to start with).

Snow didn't stop me in December, though I told her I would stay home and then started out anyway and made it there in one piece no worse for the wear.

This time she played the emotional blackmail card:  If you come down, I won't go to chemotherapy.

Well, heck.

I felt like playing the Mom card right back at her:  If you do that, you'll only be hurting yourself.  (I heard that somewhere before, like maybe she said it to me at some point in the last 40+ years.)

But I didn't.  I stayed home, so much for listening to classic rock and cleaning out my mental sock drawer.

 Mom said that her friend Jane would drive her, Jane having a four-wheel drive vehicle and no fear of snow.

I was mildly annoyed, especially since her oncologist wasn't going to be there.

Mom called this evening.  There was an NP covering for the oncologist, who herself is a cancer survivor.  She took more time with her than the oncologist usually does, taking her blood pressure and actually doing more of a physical exam than on any of the previous appointments.  She and Jane went to the Olive Garden for lunch and she picked up cranberry juice on sale on the way home.  Mom was absolutely chipper.

It was annoying that I am so easily replaced.

Meanwhile, instead of taking the day and kicking back, I went to work from 9 am until 1 pm and then came home to pick up Micah and Thea.

Thea finished her homework before dinner, the three of us went for a twilight bike (Micah) and scooter (Thea) ride around the neighborhood and it was a relatively pleasant evening with no meltdowns or spats.

The only bummer is that I'm on call again tonight after being on for the whole weekend.

Countdown to Chemo. . . .

Back to Maryland again.  My mother's first chemotherapy session is tomorrow, and so on one of the biggest car-travel days, I'll be heading back down to Maryland.

Yesterday I crossed over the NJ Turnpike on my way home from work and the southbound lanes were a solid parking lot (I work just above Exit 5, if the reader is a coinnoiseur of the Turnpike); it looked like the northbound lanes were also starting to slow to a crawl.  That was Saturday at about 3 pm.

Fortunately things were relatively quiet at work - it's always a bonus when we're finished and the staff can go home by noon, and call has been almost nil.

So I'll get four to five hours listening to the Philadelphia and Baltimore oldies stations, reliving high school and college - and feeling like a bit of a geezer.

Back and Forth

Down to Maryland on Friday the 13th, back on Sunday the 15th.

Saturday Thea, Mom and I made our Fall pilgrimage to the National Lutheran Home - and because we left Micah with Steve, we made it there earlier than usual, so the baked goods and fudge had not been ravaged by hordes of carbohydrate-craving Lutherans and the Home's staff.  Thanks to Thea's bladder, we scored a fabulous parking spot - I pulled up to let Mom and Thea out after Thea said she had to pee, Mom swung out to the trunk, yanked her walker out and popped it up and the two of them trotted off to the ladies' room.

All of this was witnessed by the staff member directing traffic, and he let me park right in front of the building right in front of the No Parking sign.  Thanks again to my walker-slinging mother and my daughter's bladder.  Usually we park on the shoulder of the road, and my mother insists on not being let out of the car at the curb, so she slogs across the grass, leaves and uneven ground with the rest of us.  The great parking spot was motivation to shop and make periodic drop-offs rather than having to carry the loot around.

Best of all we really got to shop, since no one had to make sure Micah's little fingers were up to no good.  I love him, but Micah is a man in motion, both physically and verbally.

After shopping and lunch we went over to see our former neighbors - and for round two of shopping.  Mom wanted a baby quilt and doll quilts, I wanted doll quilts (either for presents or for May 2010's Q is for Quail / Quilt week at Micah's school.)

The kids and Steve got to hang out at the indoor pool at the hotel - and Micah's ear did not get wet he was proud to say at school on Monday and we went for a late dinner at Silver Skewers.  Luckily it was after 9pm and the restaurant was empty (though people were in and out for take-out orders) so Micah in his ansty-pants mode didn't disturb any other diners.

Sunday Steve got to use his Redskins tickets and we went over to Oma's and to Olive Garden for dinner.

And the damn Redskins won. But it's the first win of the season.

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.

Back in Maryland

Thanks to the NJ State Teachers' Convention, Micah's school is closed today and tomorrow, Thea's is closed Friday.  So I paroled her from school today and we drove down to Maryland last night.  Micah was in Manic Chatter Monkey mode for a good way down I-295 (or so it felt).  His new schtick is "Count the birthdays, Mommy."  So the litany goes something like, "Aunt Shannon's birthday is in January, Micah's birthday is in March (And Bunny Bear? And Tom-Tom (the stuffed cat)?), Donna's and Christine's birthdays are also in March, so is Uncle Ricky, Oma's birthday is in April, Mommy's and Aunt Mary's are in June, Aunt Pam's and Uncle Karl's are in July, Daddy is in August, Uncle Larry's is in September, Elise's, Thea's and Grandma's are in October, Willi's is in December."

And then he asks to have me do it again.

And again.

Thank you to the two children in his class who had  birthdays recently who got him started on this.  I am hoping for an early end to this obsession.

Thea played her Nintendo DS until we were just over the Delaware Memorial Bridge, and then she too fell asleep, so I was left with NPR until just past the Delaware tolls, and then an oldies station from Baltimore (and someone please tell me how songs from 1977 constitute 'oldies' - 102.7 did a "9 at 9" and featured songs from 1977.  It was NOT THAT long ago, thank you.

Anyway, our purpose, other than shattering the peace and quiet of my mother's world for about 48 hours, is to take her to her doctors' appointments today and tomorrow.  This morning was the surgeon, who remains the same charming person he was on the 26th.  Mom went back to get her staples and drains out, and then when he was done, my mother said I would like to talk with him, which was met with "I spoke to the family on the day of the surgery."  Charming.  Fortunately his itty-bitty personality is overshadowed by his clinical competency and surgical skills.  That, plus I saw him sending his own fax - my mother told him that she was seeing the oncologist tomorrow, so he wanted to make sure the pathology reports were sent for him to review prior to the appointment.

Mom is a happy camper now that the drains have been removed; Dr. Personality had to go and tell her that one of them went up eight inches below her skin, which has an 'eeeeewww' factor of significance for even me.  And she did not whine about the staples, whose removal she was dreading.  I made an offer to bring a staple remover from work and give her a demo so she knew what to expect, but the big chicken declined.

After the appointment we hit Wall's Bakery for the GIGANTIC eclairs, buying eight, but they are not all for us and then had lunch at the Town Mouse before going across the railroad tracks to play on the red caboose at the Historical Society of Charles County.  It used to be used on a train that went to the USN station at Indian Head and was painted dingy battleship grey, and then a dried blood sort of red, but recently someone bought a few buckets of fire engine red glossy and went to town.

So now I'm at Borders, Thea is in the kids' section lusting after Bakugan and Pokemon stuff while I cop a free Wi-Fi hit before going home to see if Micah survived his nap with Oma.  He was not pleased at being left, but he was also pretty near fried.

More later.

Happy Halloween - Post-Mortem

Let the sugar rush begin.  We have a ton of leftover candy. Fortunately most of it is Three Musketeers, something Steve likes, but I can happily pass up. The 31st was drizzly and not that many trick-or-treaters came by.  Thea and I put up the rest of our decorations a couple hours before the doorbell rang, and now I have to find the energy to pack it all away until next year - which I hope will be sometime before Thanksgiving.

Micah wanted to be "just like Thea" so while we were at Oma's last week we went to one of those temporary Hallowe'en stores and found a replica of her costume in his size, so instead of the cute cowboy and a fireman, we had two Star Wars Clone Wars characters.  How original - and neither of them has seen the movie; Thea has the Star Wars Clone Wars game for her DS.   Photos to follow.

This week we're going back up the Turnpike to see the ENT to get the sponges changed, I've already gotten November 18th blocked out of my schedule at work.  Then we're heading to Maryland that evening.  The kids are off from school Thursday and Friday (NJ State Teachers' Convention), and my mother has a follow up with her surgeon on Thursday and her oncologist on Friday.

Saturday Thea and I are going to Penn for Homecoming - not for the football game (though it might be fun since it's against Princeton; here's hoping the corner of the Ivy League where I went to school whips the corner of the Ivy League where I live), but for the walk for the Penn/Kresge challenge.  The bummer is I'm call for the weekend, but the up side is that I worked last Saturday.

Out of Touch

Micah and I have been at my mother's in Maryland since Sunday.  My mother had surgery on Monday so we were on hand to be of whatever use, and Mom's home only has a dial-up modem since she is only about three notches above Amish, and I have little patience with dial-up at this point in my technology-spoiled little life.

Monday we had a early wake-up call so we could be on the road to Southern Maryland Hospital by 6:30 am.  Mom was supposed to be there by 7:30, three hours prior to her 10:30 surgery so that she could have some sort of tracer put in that would help the surgeon define if there was any lymph node involvement.

We showed up promptly, got her registered and sat down to wait.  Micah was along for the ride, so we were stuck in the solarium.  Times have changed, thanks to H1N1.  Three years ago Thea was with me for Mom's knee replacement and we were everywhere: the surgical holding area (because Mom's surgery was delayed for hours and hours), the recovery room, and her hospital room.  Now visiting hours are strict and no one under age 18 is allowed beyond the lobby and solarium.  People were wearing masks, but I couldn't tell if they were people who were fearing acquiring the virus or those who had some sort of symptoms.  Either way, the masks did not inspire much in the way of confidence.

We met Mom's surgeon when he came out to a) chastise yet another person (having already told Mom) that she was to have been at the hospital at 7:00 am, no 7:30 am, and to b) to let me know Mom would be sitting in a cubicle by herself because I could not go back there "because of the child" - which he said in a tone of voice one would use to say "blistering case of herpes."  He was not campaigning for the Miss Congeniality award, and I was left with the hope that he had phenomenal surgical skills to make up for his utterly lacking charm or people skills.

And in my mother's defense, NO WHERE on any of the the papers that she was given by either the surgeon's office or the hospital was the time written down.  So fault lies with the surgeon's office.  Period.

Meanwhile back in the solarium, after exhausting the markers and paper, the wooden trains and whatever else he could get into, Micah started working the crowd, making all sorts of new friends.  At one point he was on the loose, circulating throw the room giving everyone high-fives - which most people seemed to find amusing or at least a diversion while waiting to hear from their patients' surgeons.  A lady who sat at our table asked if Micah had microtia, and she had a niece who has unilateral microtia, so it was interesting to hear about her experience (the niece is now 19 years old or so, I think - my brain was only half-engaged in the conversation, the remaining bits were focused on keeping an eye on Micah and how long until we heard something on Mom), but she digressed into nursing, the National Archives, multicultural families and a myriad of other topics that my un-caffeinated brain failed to absorb.

On our way to Maryland we stopped at the AT&;T store because my wall-charger for my cell phone went missing - and my car charger ($4.99 on eBay) died months ago, and my cell phone's battery was near-depleted.  As we were leaving the store, the sales clerk offered Micah an old non-working cell phone, which for about the span of 72 hours was his prize possession.  We took a break from the solarium to go out to the car to find it and got to watch a LifeFlight helicopter take off from the landing pad near the ER entrance.  Micah was fascinated, and waved at the pilots until I thought his arm would fall off.  After it took off, we were back in the waiting area, ready again to torture the assembled masses.

After the surgeon came out around 1 p.m.  to say all had went well with my mother, Micah and I took off to get gasoline for the car and to head over to National Harbor.  We were going to hook up with my cousin who would take Micah for a few hours so I could go back to the hospital and see my mother.  He fell asleep in the car, but after he woke up we parked the car and went down to "The Awakening" sculpture and Micah occupied himself with that traditional little boy pastime of throwing pebbles into the Potomac.

Micah got handed off in the Fleet Garage at National Harbor, getting to ride in Thea's booster seat (exigent circumstances, I know how to get her seat in and out, his requires a degree in engineering which I do not possess) and I headed back to the hospital, arriving there with 40 minutes to kill. Visiting hours for the evening are 5:00 pm to 7:00 pm, and from the number of people hanging out in the lobby, exceptions to the rule were not being made.  So I twiddled my thumbs, figured out how to check my email via my cell phone (who knows what that will cost on next month's bill), changed my ring tone and cleaned out my purse.  And I still had 30 minutes to fritter away after all that.

When I finally got signed in and my visitor's badge clipped on, it was 5:05 pm.  I headed up to my mother's room, almost dreading what I would find - in 2006, after her knee replacement, she looked like death, was out of it from the medication/anesthesia, it was not pretty.

But when I got to her room, there she was sitting up, watching TV, looking pretty much how she did when I last had seen her that morning.  Minus the real estate removed by the surgeon, which wasn't really noticeable given the surgical drains in place.  It was a shock, a very pleasant shock.  So we hung out, she got to eat her technicolor liquid dinner (yellow chicken broth, green gelatin, red cranberry juice, brown tea) while we compared notes on the surgeon, etc.  Her nurse (Liz) was very nice, and while I was there the cardiologist came in to see her (when the surgeon mentioned that he would request that the hospitalist see her since Mom's physician doesn't come to SMH, I said to him I hoped it was someone with better people skills than the last hospitalist from her knee replacement, so the surgeon opted for cardiology to round on her instead.   Cardiology dude was very nice, was thorough and had some humor and personality under his white coated exterior.

I reclaimed Micah from my cousin's, he'd gotten a chance to play with Elise and Henry, and all the bopping around had taken its toll because he was asleep before I was over the Wilson Bridge.

Both the cardiologist and the surgeon said Mom could go home Tuesday or Wednesday, the surgeon thought she'd want to stay until Wednesday, but Mom got discharged on Tuesday, walked off the floor and down to the lobby to wait for me to pull the car up, and then when she saw the car, she came strolling out on her own, just about 24 hours after getting out of surgery.  Mom's neighbor was recruited to stay with Micah in the car, so we all had lunch together at Mom's.

She took it easy for the rest of the day, but the only pain medication she took was for her knee.

The next day, 48 hours after surgery, Mom wanted to go to the bank and check out the farmers' market at the St. Mary's County Library.  She was on the hunt for green beans.  Then we went down to another farm where we'd been a few months earlier to let Micah play on the wooden train.

While Mom was checking out the apples and pumpkins, we checked out the train and the goat pen and goat barn (or Goatel, as the farm calls it.)  Micah was trying to bond with the baby goats, but the baby goats were more focused on their meal plan, the udder.  And Micah sees a large pink, finger-like protuberance near the hindquarters and declares "IT'S A PE-E-E-NIS."  Which, of course, in his mind, it is.  Any dangling, wobbly bits between the rear legs MUST be one. 

So after trying to explain my mother's surgery to Micah - a necessity since he was right there while I emptied the drains and changed the dressings - and failing miserably to distill cancer and mastectomy into something manageable for the three-year old brain, I was now having to figure out how to explain that teats and udders are not penises and testicles.  Again, without benefit of caffeine for my aching synapses.

Anyway, I think he got the message because after the farm, we went to Applebee's for dinner and we were talking about what we saw on the farm and Micah looks at my mother quite earnestly and says in his loudest Micah voice, "And that NOT a PENIS, that where the MILK comes from."  Nice.

Meanwhile and far away, I spent the first three days off the electronic map before getting a little bit of time at Borders.  Free Wi-Fi, a beautiful thing,  free Wi-Fi and access to an electrical outlet, even more beautiful thing.

Weekend at Oma's

Weekend at Oma's - late departure from Princeton, so after the first 30 minutes of 'how much longer until we get to Oma's", exhaustion kicked in and both kids fell asleep, and were so asleep that I could get them from the car into my mother's house, and they were still sleeping.  Thea was plopped on the sofa, covered with her 'soft-soft' blanket and surrounded by her tigers, and there she stayed.  Micah managed to sleep for 90 minutes in the bedroom, giving my mother and I time to talk without someone interrupting us - until he came wandering out, and since my mother and I were still chatting and snacking, he hung out with us, playing with a box and tissue paper, jumping off the beds in the guestroom and having way too much energy for 2 am.  Fortunately, he zonked out fairly quickly (after the drink of water, I want my puppy, I don't want socks, my nose is running schtick).

And I crawled into the bed that Thea usually uses, pulled her 100 good wishes quilt over me and went to sleep.  Until 7:30 am when Thea came in to use the bathroom attached to the bedroom, stopping by to whip her quilt off of me, leaving me cold and awake.  Luckily the blankets I usually use were on the floor next to the bed, so it was just a matter of covering up and going back to sleep, for another 30 minutes until Micah woke up.

After Oma's special breakfast (and I still can't figure out what she does to her scrambled eggs that makes my children gobble them up), we started to get ready for the day - the one big agenda item being Elise's 3rd birthday party at 3:30 pm.  Then I remembered that we wanted to go to the German Deli in Falls Church before going to the party, fast forward two children into clothes, fast forward getting organized and out the door.

Quick stop at the Hallmark store to pick up ornaments that my mother had ordered and buy a birthday card (having forgotten the Backyardigans card at home).

Then we put the German Deli's address in the GPS and took off.  And the GPS bombed miserably, probably due to all the new construction around the Telegraph Road exit.  In its second attempt, the GPS sent us back on the Beltway and around to the Route 50 exit. The GPS has a little bit of vindictiveness programmed into its soul.

Somehow we managed to buy one bag of stuff (one pound hard salami, chocolate, a box of Bavarian dumpling mix, etc.)  What I wish I could buy or package is just the smell of the place.  It smells like my grandparents' store.  I manged to gross Thea out by showing her a toothpaste-like tube of a striped  mayonnaise and ketchup combo - I always thought that mustard and ketchup in tubes were neat, but the striped condiment in a toothpase tube was a little nasty even in my mind.

Meanwhile in the middle of shopping, Micah threw out the "I have to go pee-pee" alarm.  We already imposed on the German Deli in July, so it was time for creativity, which turned out to be opening both car doors and letting him aim for under the car.

He topped this by announcing at Panera's, after overhearing my mother and I talking about his graft site, "You want to see my owwie, Oma?" while dropping his trou, and his underwear.  For Micah, Panera = opportunity to be naked or partially naked.  Fortunately we were in a booth, walled in on two sides, so the only one that Micah flashed was the guy working on his Mac opposite us.

After lunch we went to Christine's for the birthday party.  Both kids were acting shy, Thea feeling that she was too old for a party with a bunch of three-year olds, and Micah because he was in one of those moods where he was mimicking whatever she was doing.  Then he ran his hand along the deck's rail and got a splinter, a big one.  And after I remember I clued in that I had a needle in my bag out in the car, we got it out and got him banadaged up with only a few tears.

Thea slept for a second night on Oma's couch, so I got another reprieve from the floor.  Sunday Fred was coming to detail my car and Lorrie was coming out to see us.  This gave me about an hour to go to Target and Safeway.  The LaPlata Target's photo department's computer totally managed to screw up the order, making the CD in record time, but losing the 74 prints I had picked out.

The car is clean and shiny, thanks to Fred.  We managed to eat out, after my mother threatened to stay home because she was ready to brain Thea for having a mini-meltdown.  Mom and Lorrie went off to Mimi's Cafe to have a glass of wine, we stuck around to get all the stuff I removed from my car loaded back in.

And so ends a good weekend, filled with lots of boring details.