Alamem Ka Se Bo

Team Dougie Means Love

2009-07-26T15:36:00.000-07:00

At long last, here is the finished product of our Team Dougie '09 slideshow!

This year the theme was "Team Dougie Is Everywhere." Many of our loved ones could not physically be at the track for the Relay, so we encouraged folks to do something active in honor of Daddy and send us pictures of what they did.

Team Dougie Means Love from Kristine Harrington on Vimeo.

I Could Touch Him

2009-06-13T20:45:00.000-07:00

I had a dream about my Dad last night. It was so very vivid! I dreamt that he came back to us...my mom walked into the room and said "Daddy's back!" and he came in with a gigantic grin on his face and his arms wide open for a HUGE hug. Neither of us let go for the longest time.

The only thing was, we all knew that he could only stay for a limited amount of time and the catch was that we would have to watch him get sick all over again. So I gave him a list with all of the things I wanted to do with him and for him for the time we had ... especially get married so that he could be there. Somehow I knew he wasn't going to be around long enough for me to have babies, but I wanted him to get to know S and walk me down the aisle when the time came.

I think the dream was sparked by my pediatric clinical rotation yesterday...the weekly art activity was focused on making gifts for Father's Day, a holiday I have been mentally avoiding since the first commercials started airing earlier this month.

I woke up in tears and S held me and let me cry. Every time I think about the dream, the tears well up all over again. I'm not sure where this latest surge of emotion is coming from, but I'm just gonna let it happen and ride the wave. There's no such thing as a timetable for grieving.

What's even stranger is that after my dream, I started looking for bereavement groups in the area, something I've been meaning to do since I moved here and have kept putting off. Not only did I find a group specifically for young adults, but I also found a potential part-time job at the same organization (we've been stressing about money because my financial aid package took a major hit this summer). An organization that has the same first name as my dad!! If that isn't someone watching over me...

Holiday Spirit

2008-12-15T16:18:00.001-08:00

Christmas is even harder this year than last. It sure doesn't hurt any less.

But Daddy would appreciate his family doing the Charleston ... :)

Send your own ElfYourself eCards

One Year Passes

2008-09-26T15:35:00.000-07:00

Dear Daddy,
It can't believe it has already been a year since we lost you. How did that even happen? I still don't understand how the world kept turning after you were gone. I remember driving down the street and being angry at all the people going about their lives without a care, when my dear sweet daddy wasn't here anymore.

The anger isn't as intense, but the sadness never goes away. I'm able to smile and laugh and find joy in life but every time I find that joy, I want desperately to tell you about it. I still haven't been able to take you out of my cell phone.

So much has happened in the last year, Daddy. I am really starting to heal and rebuild after several years of unhappiness. I know you worried about me a lot but I'm actually doing really well. I'm finally following my dream and loving nursing school, despite the stress. I love my new city and my friends and I wish you had been here when we moved all my stuff in. I remember when we did that back east, and then ordered our favorite takeout.

And then there is S. I'm sure you would have worried (as usual) that I was rushing headlong into a new passion, without being ready for a new romance when I was still healing from an old one. To be honest, I was worried too for a while. But there are so many things about him that remind me of you. To me, that is the highest compliment I could pay anyone, that he is like you. He knows what it's like to lose a beloved parent to cancer. He was part of Team Dougie this year, and he has become my rock now. I would like to believe that when you look down, you are truly happy that I have met someone who treasures me the way S does. I know it's what you always wanted for all of us - to have the kind of the relationship you had with Mom.

Sometimes when I think about all of the moments you will miss, I get really sad. You did get to walk me down the aisle, but I wish you were here now to watch us all find our way. You would have been the most amazing grandfather. I wish you and Mom were able to retire together and really take advantage of those empty nester years that were just getting started. We miss your antics at parties and your cooking and skills at mixing Cosmopolitans. I miss hearing your voice on the other end of the line - "just checkin' in," as you always said. Certain things remind me of you and I talk about you as much as I can, to keep you alive and to remember how good I really had it when I had you as my Daddy. I still have it good because I'll always have you in my heart. I just wish you were here still for Eskimo kisses and bear hugs.

I love you all the way from the garage door to the living room wall.

I miss you every day,
Tiney
xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

Our Cancer

2008-08-16T08:09:00.001-07:00

I had a dream last night that journalist and my favorite blogger Leroy Sievers died. His lifetime partner Laurie had posted yesterday that things were a little rough but he would be back next week. That must still have been on my mind when I went to bed last night.

This morning I woke up to the news that Leroy did indeed pass away. The details are scarce at this point but it sounds as if it happened quickly, which in "cancer world" can be a good thing.

I am very sad. Leroy helped me sort through a lot of my emotions about Dad's cancer. And even though my father only lived six months after diagnosis, while Leroy made it 2 1/2 years after being told he had 6 months to live, I can't really resent him for living, can't I? I think what I truly appreciated was that he gave a voice to all of the unspeakable thoughts and feelings that surround people living with cancer. And he encouraged us to speak out too. His blog was one of the inspirations for changing the focus of my own. I felt it was important to tell our story so that perhaps someone in the middle of Oklahoma somewhere might come across it and feel the slightest bit of comfort that they weren't alone in their own cancer journey.

Leroy did that for millions of people.

We will miss him.

A New Chapter

2008-07-15T17:05:00.000-07:00

So my sabbatical year at home with family has come to an end. This afternoon we packed up my grandparents' RV with all of my stuff and we'll head out first thing tomorrow morning for my new city. Nursing school is just around the corner - orientation starts July 23th and my first clinical class starts the 28th. Fall semester officially begins August 25th.

It is crazy how much my life (and for that matter, my body) has transformed in the past year. I moved across the country, cared for my father and watched him slip away, grieved, began to heal, found an exercise routine and learned to love veggies and hard boiled eggs, filed for divorce, got into nursing school (again), lost almost 50 pounds, and fell in love. Whew, I'm exhausted just remembering it all.

But I needed this year. Things were really beginning to unravel and although the healing continues, my mind, heart, soul and body are all much improved. Even better, I am really excited about this next step...although somewhat nervous about unravelling again. If there's anything I learned this year, it's the importance of 1) taking care of yourself, 2) surrounding yourself with people you love, and 3) following your heart. I knew all that intuitively before, but this roller coaster of a year was a lesson in life and love.

And with the next step comes the semi-retirement of this blog. I will still post from time to time with milestones, anniversaries, remembrances and other tributes to Daddy. But as I move forward, I find it appropriate to hang my hat for a while. The nursing school blog I've been keeping since December will pick up where this left off, and will be chock full of horror stories, amusing anecdotes, and continued insight into what it means to be a young female nurse-to-be trying to navigate the world.

So here we go...

Proud Like a Mama

2008-06-15T09:38:00.000-07:00

We have our own little graduate this year. Kabi passed puppy training!!

Here she is in all of her "cap and gown" splendor and adorableness.

Feels Familiar

2008-06-13T15:15:00.000-07:00

When my father was first diagnosed, we did a lot of research as a family. We wanted to not only figure out what this beastly cancer was all about but also to find out how other people dealt with it. Each of us discovered our own resources that helped us cope individually and collectively with the cancer journey.

One of my tools was a blog by Leroy Sievers, which we heard about while watching a Discovery Channel special on cancer hosted by Ted Koppel. Leroy is a former international journalist who was diagnosed with metastatic cancer and told he had months to live ... 2 1/2 years ago. His profound writing and willingness to be vulnerable to millions of people helped me AND my dad at the beginning. When it became clear that unlike Leroy, Daddy would not be defying the odds, he stopped reading the blog. Perhaps the injustice of it all got to him, or perhaps he worried that reading a blog about beating cancer would give him unrealistic expectations about his own prognosis. But I kept reading, and have continued to do so, due to a subscribed thread that I never cancelled.

I am sad to say that Leroy's body seems to have met its match after a long and often painful journey. He underwent procedures I had never heard of before, and had some serious spinal surgery. He battled a nasty infection. He received so much radiation and chemo that neither treatment is an option anymore. And his first post of this week was a haunting reminder - in his words, the cancer has "exploded". New mets in his brain and liver, tumors in his lungs and several spots in his bones (spine, shoulder blade, ribs and a nasty one that fractured his pelvic bone). It doesn't look good.

As his blogs morph from a fighting to a reminiscing mentality, I am sad and scared because I know what's ahead for him. I watched it happen. But I am also thankful that his voice has been there for me (and for my father). I don't resent him for overcoming the odds and living longer than expected. I appreciate that someone out there is willing to be completely honest about this journey and has been able remind me of the power of empathy.

I will continue to read Leroy's posts as long as he writes. At some point it may become too painful for him, physically AND mentally. And I will really miss the blog and the man when the time comes. I wish him and his loved ones well. I hope he realizes what a mark he has made on the cancer community.

Thank you, Leroy. You have spoken for us all.

Another Date To Remember

2008-06-12T21:39:00.000-07:00

Today would have been 31 years of my parents' marriage. Mom didn't want to do anything significant to mark the day - just be home with us and go about her daily business.

I would think this would be one of the harder milestones of the year. Every other tradition or holiday was something Daddy shared with family and friends, something we could commemorate as a community that loved him dearly. But a wedding anniversary was something the two of them shared intimately and something that my father went to great lengths to celebrate every year. It always involved giving mom long-stemmed roses to mark the number of years they were together. It always involved grand romantic gestures. Now that I know how it feels to be swept off my feet and treated with such love and devotion, I can't imagine having to remember a date such as this on my own. It must have been a very long day for Mom.

And Sunday is Father's Day. We'll be visiting Daddy and making "Our Eggs". This week is a doozy.

Relay for Life Tribute Video

2008-06-09T07:44:00.000-07:00

Thanks to everyone who e-mailed me their pictures from the Relay for Life 2008! Here is a tribute video for Team Dougie...

Team Dougie

2008-06-01T09:12:00.001-07:00

I am slacking big-time on the blog posts lately but I wanted to make sure I put up some pictures from the 2008 Relay for Life. "Team Dougie" was back in full force (40+ registered team members, and then some) and it was a really incredible weekend. My sister led the team in a pre-relay "opening ceremony" for Daddy and then his covenant group said a prayer. Then we watched with pride our family members also facing cancer as they walked the survivors' lap.

Then it was time for the caregivers' lap. That was painful. We walked arm in arm and S joined us since he took care of his mom who also had lung cancer and passed away 7 years ago.

There were good times, and lots of sad times, and a lot of stories shared about Daddy. The luminaria slideshow featured ALL of the pictures I had sent in, so it basically became the "Dougie show". Fine by me - the more love, the better.

Here are some photos from 24 hours of honoring my incredible father...

Team prayer before the opening ceremonies.

The team saluting Dougie.

Our survivors.

My luminaria to Daddy.

The fireman in the middle walked the entire 24 hours!!

S was there with me - what a guy!

Team Dougie makes it through the weekend.

Me Likey the Vino

2008-05-12T08:33:00.000-07:00

Last weekend was incredible! Mom, sister and I headed up to Santa Ynez with our Aunt Minnie, Emily and Elizabeth. We had bought a wine tour at a silent auction event last fall and decided to have a little girl's weekend/early Mother's Day celebration.

What a day! We toured the valley in style, in our Mercedes Airstream limo bus, stopped at four wineries and a yummy cafe in Los Olivos for lunch. By the end of the day, we were rolling down the hills (literally: see evidence below).

Happy Girls!

Rolling down the hills at Fess Parker (Winery #3 out of 4).
Not a great idea but highly entertaining for the rest of us!

We got home Saturday afternoon after a 5-hour crawl down the 405, reunited with our puppy and went to see Iron Man. My brother was in town for Mother's Day, and S came along too - it was an awesome movie and there is nothing better than holding hands in a movie theater. It's so innocent and fun. I know, I'm gross.

Sunday we went to Mother's Day Brunch at one of our favorite hotels in town. The theme was "Queen For a Day" and they had trumpeters herald the entrance of each mother. Mom had to take a picture on a throne, wearing a tiara and all. :) It was a tough Mother's Day as the first one without Daddy but I'm glad we could all be together.

So here it is, Monday morning. 6 more weeks until I bid farewell to my job and only two more months until I pack up and head north for school. What a year it's been!

A Moratorium

2008-05-04T16:38:00.000-07:00

That is what I am placing on behalf of my body, against any other diseases that might be considering crossing the path of my immune system. I was sick again for an entire week and I am none too pleased about it!

This time around it was tonsillitis (see pretty picture below). Which I have no memory of ever having before in my life. Last weekend I started feeling achy and weak and by Monday morning I hurt so bad I just wanted to have someone knock me out. And oh the fevers and chills! But the worst part by far was my throat. Every swallow was an exercise in holding back the tears. And I am not kidding.

I finally dragged my butt to the doctor on Wednesday (actually new boyfriend drove me - what a keeper!) and the verdict was handed down. Antibiotics for me and no work until Monday. I was fine with this as I really wanted to keep sleeping, but between an effed-up gallbladder in December and a horrific case of the flu in January, I was fresh out of sick time. So last week's trauma was compounded by the fact that it was almost-entirely unpaid. Ouch.

So any other germs out there who may be toying with the idea of coming for a visit, KEEP OUT!! I'm done being sick. And dammit, I just can't afford it!

Marsherita!

2008-04-12T12:29:00.001-07:00

When I worked for the Chaplain at Korle Bu Hospital in Ghana and we were on call to see patients, we'd spend hours in the office watching Ghanaian television. What a trip!

One of the most entertaining parts were the music video interludes, especially this one by Slim Busterr....

Enjoy a little taste of Ghana.

Graduation Day

2008-04-08T20:41:00.000-07:00

Tonight, at "Step 'n Sculpt with Nancy", I graduated from one step to two! No "Pomp and Circumstance" or anything, but I was relieved that I made it through the class without tripping or perhaps even breaking my leg.

I felt the difference big time! My calories burned went back up (it had plateau-ed over the past few weeks) and my booty is gettin' cuter every day. :)

Gotta love Healthy Teeny '08!

Take A Dip

2008-04-07T07:53:00.000-07:00

When I decided to file for divorce, I knew that although I was nowhere near ready for a serious relationship, it was time to get back "out there." After all, I've never done the grown-up dating thing. I met my husband when I was 21 and never looked back.

So how to dive back into the dating pool when a) you're a rookie and b) the area you live in has a reputation for superficiality and a lack of brain cells? Go online, baby!

I had marginal luck my first couple of months. Met one boy who was nice but totally wrapped up in his life pre-Teeny and unwilling to make room. But last week I went on a date that put all other blind dates to shame!

"S" and I met for coffee - innocent and safe. 2 and 1/2 hours later, we were still gabbing away. Our lives are parallel not only in our mutual interests and love of dogs, but even in some of the trials we have faced. Since meeting, we have spoken on the phone almost daily and texted in between conversations. It's early yet but I have a good feeling about this one.

What's even better is that no matter what happens between us, it's so nice to have that good feeling and see myself moving forward with my life.

So thank you, S! I'm looking forward to Date #2! :)

A Season of Greatness

2008-04-02T07:34:00.000-07:00

I have spent the last few days contemplating how best to capture the pride I feel in my alma mater. For the athletic greatness demonstrated. For the fact that they accomplished such greatness in the midst of a tiny student body of 1,700 and one of the most academically rigorous programs in the United States. For a coach whose story and whose commitment to Davidson is simply inspiring. And for the Board of Trustees' historic decision to dig into their own pockets and foot the bill for hundreds of students to travel to Detroit for the Sweet Sixteen and Elite Eight.

I have always gushed about my four years at Davidson. So I thought it only fitting to capture my exuberance and joy in a video tribute to Davidson College Basketball. I hope you enjoy it...

"I Can Do All Things..."

Doing Davidson Proud

2008-03-30T16:57:00.000-07:00

WHAT A GAME.

Yes, our boys in red will be headed home after losing by 2 in a heart- and gut-wrenching Elite 8 matchup. Yes, it would have been incredible to go to the Final Four, or maybe even all the way.

But Davidson did so much more than play great basketball. They represented a great school. They exhibited awe-inspiring athletic skill, but they also showed humility and respect. They put on the map a school that has always deserved to be nationally recognized.

Their 2008 Tournament run will go down in history. But most importantly, they showed what it means to come from a family. And that is what makes you great.

Wildcats Forever

2008-03-28T21:53:00.000-07:00

This article epitomizes why my four years at Davidson College (1999-2003) were so memorable and so very special... Props to Michael Kruse for capturing what alums around the world have been feeling this March Madness!

What It Means
On the first day of March, in Statesboro, Ga., after the Davidson basketball team beat Georgia Southern to finish the regular season in the Southern Conference at 20-0, I was with Steph Curry with a couple other reporters, and when he was talking to somebody else I happened to look down at his shoes, and what I saw in black Sharpie on the side of one of his Nikes was this: Romans 8:28.

"And we know that God causes all things to work together for good to those who love God, to those who are called according to His purpose."

Last week, in the NCAA tournament in Raleigh, a photographer captured something similar, in the same neat script, on the side of his shoe.

"I can do all things …"
Philippians 4:13.

So it was that on Good Friday and Easter Sunday, Steph scored against Gonzaga and Georgetown a total of 70 points, 55 of those coming in improbable second-half comebacks on the way to the Sweet 16 – and I'm trying here not to be too, TOO heavy-handed – in which the Wildcats, it could be said, rose from the dead.

Last fall, I wrote a long story for Charlotte magazine about this highly anticipated '07-'08 Davidson basketball season, and in that story I posited the theory that this kid, all of 19 at the time, and just turned 20 now, could at the end of his four years be the most important player in the history of Davidson basketball. That idea got stronger and stronger in the course of my reporting. Still, though, I wouldn't have voiced it in public like that if people at the school, in the president's office, in the basketball office and around the athletic department, had at all dismissed the notion when I threw it out there.

Jim Murphy, the athletic director, said it wasn't out of the question.

Bob McKillop, the basketball coach, said Steph had a chance to be a "poster boy" for the program.

Now, sitting here in the Davidson Inn, still trying to process what happened this past weekend in Raleigh, and also what it means and could mean in the future, looking at Steph on the front page of not only the Charlotte Observer but the USA Today, seeing Wildcat red on the sports front of the New York Times, scanning stories online from ESPN.com, SI.com, Yahoo! Sports, CBS SportsLine, the Washington Post, the New York Post, the New York Daily News, Newsday, the Chicago Tribune, Slate, and on and on and on, I have to say:

We all might have sold the kid short.

He might, in some ways, right now, be the most important PERSON at Davidson, basketball or otherwise, and it took him TWO years, not four.

What he did this past weekend in Raleigh was this: He scored 40 points against Gonzaga. He scored 30 points against Georgetown. He outscored Georgetown's entire team in the last 14 minutes and change on Sunday. He did things to put little Davidson in the Sweet 16 that were unbelievable even to those of us who have been trained to just about expect the unexpected with him.

But what he did, in a broader sense, and what he IS doing, and will continue to do, goes way beyond basketball, and way beyond this week heading into Friday's game against Wisconsin. Here's the thing, and I say this as a Class of 2000 Davidson grad, and also as someone who now makes a living as a reporter at the St. Petersburg Times: The small college in the cute, wee town in northern Mecklenburg County, it seems to me, always has had this institutional reticence about being too forward or loud in telling or selling its story, even as the college over the last generation or so has gone from regionally fine to nationally excellent. The thought, rooted, I think, in the school's Southern, Presbyterian makeup, is that braggarts are unbecoming.

It's as if we say, We know what we are, we know what we have. And we leave it at that.

But we want people to know.

We do.

We don't mind answering the questions. What's Davidson? Where's Davidson? But we'd really rather not have to.

And this, I think, is where Steph comes in.

Before I go any deeper, though, I should say that he's not the only guy – he's the star of the show, but he's not a one-man band.

McKillop is the perfect man for his job. He is OF this place, in a way that can come only with time, and an emotional investment and attachment, too, that for him looks like this: His older son played for him. His younger son plays for him. His daughter went to Davidson and is engaged to a Davidson man. He's more than just a coach in this community.

He is 57. Next year is his 20th year here. He's the program's all-time winningest coach and the Southern Conference's all-time winningest coach. Five NCAAs, three NITs, all those league titles, all those coach of the year awards, all those international pros he's produced. Within this sustained success, and at a really hard place to win in Division I basketball, he's the constant.

I've often thought of the Davidson basketball story as the chase of the chance. The chance to win in the NCAA tournament. The chance to beat the big boys. The chance to match the precedent set by Lefty Driesell way back in the '60s in a very different time. It's the narrative that never ends.

Within that story, though, is the story of a man, and the McKillop story, just over the last few years, I think, has begun to come into sharper focus: He came here to go somewhere else, and says so, and he ended up staying put and finding a home. He lives across the street from campus. He walks to games. His children went to the school he represents. All of this is highly, highly unusual in his mostly greedy, mercenary, job-hopping profession. And it's somehow reassuring for the rest of us who live in this go-go, more-more, what's-next world.

It's instructional and inspirational without being Chicken Soupy or sappy or overwrought.

He's where he's supposed to be.

It's practically a parable.

That sort of continuity and connection seeps into his roster. Take Thomas Sander. He's a senior this year, a captain, but toward the end of his playing career in high school in Cincinnati the thoughtful kid actually was considering not playing in college because he found the recruiting process smarmy and disheartening. McKillop, he thought, was different. Now the econ major is an anchor of a class that has won 100 games – the most of any class in the history of the program – and his trademark might be as a guy who sets screens that are awe-inspiring to those who really know what they're watching when they're watching basketball. Everybody sees Steph's shots go in. Not even close to everybody sees all the things that go into creating those shots.

There's Max Paulhus Gosselin, the selfless, tireless defender from Quebec, a guy whose effort on the court is so palpable I sometimes can't look away.

There's Andrew Lovedale, a testament to the kind of consistent development so many of McKillop's players seem to experience: He started this year as a reserve. He's ending it as a revelation.

There's Stephen Rossiter, the Staten Island son of a New York City firefighter, and I don't mean to gush here, but he's one of the nicest kids you'll ever meet.

There's Jason Richards, the point guard from the suburbs of Chicago, underrated and unflappable, a history major who wrote his thesis earlier this academic year on the African-American reaction to Jackie Robinson and the breaking of the color barrier in Major League Baseball. The first hug he got Sunday night when the bus got back from Raleigh was from Dr. Sally McMillen, his advisor, and also, I should say in the interest of full disclosure, a mentor to me, too, when I was here in school and ever since. Bill Cobb, Class of '84 and one of the Wildcats' most devoted fans, said Monday: "This is our team. It's the community's team. We all won." And I think this is what he means. I don't know Jason the way I knew the guys on the team when I was in school, not by any stretch, but I FEEL like I do, I feel like I know him, and that feeling somehow is because of things like Dr. McMillen giving him that hug. That's something we share.

During my time as a student, I wrote about the basketball team for the Davidsonian, and I started a newsletter for fans that still exists, The Wildcat Report. After graduating, though, I gradually lost touch, because I had jobs, because I lived for a while up in New York, because then I moved to Florida to work for the St. Pete Times.

Last year, though, I was coming through town in December, for the first time in what seemed like years, and to see Dr. McMillen, actually, and I called up associate head coach Matt Matheny and asked if he could get me a ticket for the UNC Charlotte game. He said sure. Left it at will call. This was very early in Steph's freshman season, and I had heard about this special player, this special kid, but I didn't really have any idea. So the Wildcats won the tip, threw it to Steph, and he shot a three, and it missed and came bouncing back to him and he picked up the ball and shot it again and it went in. This was all in, like, the first seven seconds of the game. I might be misremembering. But that's at least the way it plays in my head.

I was captivated as a graduate of Davidson.

I was captivated as a watcher of basketball.

I was captivated as a professional seeker of story.

And it was immediate. Can't really explain. Just was.

So this year I came to Charlotte for the Duke game, I went to Anaheim for the UCLA game, I was in Davidson for weekends when I could get away, I was in Charleston twice, I was in Statesboro. When I wasn't at games – I do, after all, live in Tampa, and have a job that I love and would like to keep – I listened to John Kilgo and Logan Kosmalski on the Internet radio broadcast. I started clicking refresh way too often on the message board at DavidsonCats.com.

Then came Easter weekend in Raleigh.

"There's a lot of joy going through my body," Jason said after Gonzaga.

After Georgetown, McKillop, standing in a hallway under the RBC Center stands, talked about the first moments with his team after the game in the locker room. He talked about joy too. "We just laughed, we just laughed," he said, "because of the joy we felt for each other and our program."

And then there was Steph.

I look at the photo that ran huge on 5C of the Observer sports section on Monday, with him running down the court, one finger high into the air, surrounded by the noise of nearly 20,000 strong, and I remember that moment, and I STARE at that photo, at Steph, at OUR Steph, and I look at the one on the front of USA Today, the one where he's hugging Thomas, and I look at his face, I STARE at his face, and I can't stop, and I think that's because what I see is absolute, unfettered, childlike joy.

He is the kind of face America loves to love. He was readymade for all of this: the little-guy story, the local-kid-made-good story, the father-son story with his NBA dad Dell. He's accessible, he's approachable, he's attractive. He signs backs of T-shirts, he gets pictures taken with folks' kids, he points up high when he does something good. He praises his teammates for getting him open and finding him shots and he means it.

He was all of this waiting to happen.

Wins over Gonzaga and Georgetown? A spot in the Sweet 16? That wasn't totally predictable.

But the publicity and the attention that's coming from it once this DID happen? That much was.

The other night, after driving from Raleigh to Davidson, I re-read that Charlotte magazine story from last fall.

"So," I wrote toward the end of the piece. "Stephen Curry."

Just listen to this stuff now. It's somehow simultaneously prescient and quaint.

"Around campus, important people like the athletic director and the new president like to talk about how he's such a good kid, and how he's part of the 'fabric,' and that's nice.

"The Davidson coaches use different words when they talk about him.

"McKillop: 'vision,' 'balanced,' 'gifted.' Matt Matheny, the longtime associate head coach, uses two more:

"Fearless."

"Jugular."

Then this: "He also, say the coaches, has some inner assassin. He hunts the big shot, and the big stage, and he has that unteachable something that allows him to miss a shot, two, three … but the next one? It's going in. …"

I think of the Georgetown game. Two-for-eight in the first half. Three more misses to start the second. Then 25 of his 30 points in the last 14 minutes and 24 seconds. He can't even explain it.

"He is the kid who can keep the Lake Norman newcomers coming to Belk Arena, and people in Charlotte, too," I wrote last fall. "He is, ultimately, the face of McKillop's rallying cry going into this huge season: 'Embrace the bullseye,' the coach has said over and over.

"What he is, for Davidson, at Davidson, is the son of arguably the most beloved basketball player in the history of the city of Charlotte. What that means, according to Jim Murphy, the athletic director, is this: 'Everybody that liked Dell now likes Steph. Which is a lot of people.' Which gets back to the premise at the start of this story. Stephen Curry could be the Davidson basketball program's most important player ever."

Now, some six months later, here we are.

What Steph has BECOME is the face of the college as a whole.

He is the biggest single reason guys from the Raleigh News & Observer and the New York Post are writing that Davidson does things the right way and that if they had to do it all over again they would want to come to Davidson. He is the biggest single reason Dick "Hoops" Weiss of the New York Daily News was on campus on Monday and couldn't stop talking about this "hidden gem." He is the biggest single reason applications almost certainly will go up, which means the already low acceptance rate almost certainly will go down, which means that already high academic ranking could climb. He is the biggest single reason that thousands of people – millions? – now know what Davidson is and where Davidson is. He is the biggest single reason all those people are starting to know something of what we've known all along. He is the biggest single reason Davidson, with 1,700 students, with an arena with 5,700 seats, in a town of 10,000 people, will play Friday night in Detroit at Ford Field, capacity 72,000.

And he is the biggest single reason I've been back to Davidson more times in the last six months than I had been probably in the previous six years. He is the biggest single reason I have reconnected with people I never should have lost touch with in the first place. He is the biggest single reason I have reconnected with the place I consider my home. And I am not alone.

THIS is what he's doing.

My favorite thing about him, though, is that he doesn't seem to know any of that.

On Monday, I was in the sports information office, and Steph shuffled in, dressed in a hooded sweatshirt and his sock feet, just up from a nap in the team lounge and ready for a radio interview in Toronto. He looked like a sleepy just-turned-20-year-old kid because that's what he was. He rubbed his eyes and cleared his throat and talked to Toronto.

"Everything I've ever dreamed of happening here at Davidson," he said, "it's coming true."

"We have a game coming up against Wisconsin on Friday," he said, "and we believe we can win."

The interview ended, and he got off the phone, and we sat and we talked.

I asked him what he would say about Davidson to all the people out there who are thinking about the school and the team now who were not at this time last week. He thought about that.

"It's a very small place," Steph said, "a unique place, where, I guess – the way we enjoy things all together, with everyone knowing each other, I think the joy is more real. More deep."

He speaks for so many of us.

Michael Kruse, Davidson class of 2000, is a reporter for the St. Petersburg Times. He has also written for ESPN: The Magazine and The Sporting News.

Of Dead DVRs and Sweet 16 Victories!

2008-03-28T21:17:00.000-07:00

I couldn't watch Davidson live due to a work commitment. The minute it was over, I literally hopped over the furniture in my house and ran at the TV. To my dismay, the stupid DVR HAD NOT TAPED THE GAME!!! I checked it twice and the little light was on but it didn't save the recording.

Grrrrr....

However, if I couldn't watch my boys destroy Wisconsin's supposed "boa constrictor" defense...what's that, Mike? I couldn't hear you - Wisconsin has held tournament foes to how many points the first two rounds?...then at least I could take comfort in the fact that the Cats won, and won handily.

ELITE 8-BOUND, BABY!
HEAR US ROAR!

Yum Yum!

2008-03-28T07:42:00.000-07:00

LET'S GO CATS!

And 100% Reason To Remember The Name

2008-03-24T20:50:00.001-07:00

AWESOME highlights videos (courtesy of The Davidson Show) from Rounds 1 and 2 of the NCAA Tournament. And of course they had to include the team celebrating victory with a rousing version of "Sweet Caroline" (which is now my ringtone).

Cats are off to Detroit and I wish I was going too!

Goodbye Gonzaga!

Hoyas, Go Home!

SO GOOD, SO GOOD, SO GOOD!

Curry Coverage

2008-03-23T17:31:00.000-07:00

Curry belongs in history books after another stunning performance

By Gregg Doyel

RALEIGH, N.C. -- What did I write Friday about Davidson's Stephen Curry? Whatever it was, run it back. Print it again. The same thing happened Sunday.

Two days after scoring 30 points in the second half to rally Davidson past Gonzaga, Curry scored 25 in the second half Sunday to rally the 10th-seeded Wildcats past No. 2 Georgetown.

Given the discrepancy between the size of the schools, their conference affiliation, tradition and seeding, Davidson's 74-70 victory against Georgetown has to be one of the biggest upsets in recent NCAA tournament history, right up there with George Mason's win in 2006 against Connecticut.

Individually, you'd have to go back a lot further to find a performance that deserves to be included in the same sentence, or paragraph, as the one-man show Curry put on at the RBC Center. What he did to Gonzaga on Friday, when he scored 30 of his 40 points in the second half, was one of the best individual performances by anyone, anywhere, in the NCAA tournament.

What he did Sunday was even better.

It was better because the stakes were higher and because the opponent was stronger and because of what had happened in the first half, when Georgetown allowed Curry to score just five points on 2-for-8 shooting. With less than 14½ minutes to play, Davidson trailed 48-33 and Curry still was stuck on five points. The only thing that had changed was his level of misery. With less than 14:25 remaining, Curry was 2-for-11 from the floor.

And then everything changed. For both teams. Forever.

Curry curled around a screen against pesky Georgetown defender Jeremiah Rivers. Rivers had received tips on slowing Curry from his father -- longtime NBA guard Doc Rivers, who chased Michael Jordan for years -- but there was nothing he or his father or M.J. himself could have done to stop what was about to happen. Curry caught the pass and in a nanosecond released a 23-footer that swished through the net as an official was calling a foul on Rivers. Curry added the free throw for a four-point play, cutting the Georgetown lead to 48-37 and waking up the RBC Center crowd, most of whom were dressed in North Carolina baby blue but were only too happy to support another state school.

Georgetown coach John Thompson III, as good a tactician as there is in college basketball, did little to try to stop Curry from heating up. He didn't switch defenses, only defenders. Soon freshman Austin Freeman was on Curry, but Curry buried a catch-and-shoot 3-pointer on him. Then it was another Georgetown freshman, Chris Wright, who tried to stop Curry. Didn't work. Wright fell for a pump fake and fouled Curry, who made two free throws to bring Davidson within 54-52 with 7:13 left.

Forty seconds later, the Hoyas tried something radical. Nobody guarded Curry after he slipped through the mass of men in the lane and emerged on the wing. Thompson saw what was happening from the bench and shouted, "Hey!" Didn't matter. Curry had been burying shots in taller defenders' faces for an entire season. He wasn't about to miss this open look. Georgetown's lead was 57-55.

At this point, it got plain ridiculous. Curry lost Rivers with a jab step to the outside, cut to the rim and scored in traffic. Add the foul, and it was a three-point play. Davidson now led 60-58.

Next time down, Curry beat three defenders to the rim for a scoop finish. The Hoyas led the country in field-goal defense this season, but Curry was turning them into the Keystone Cops. Add a 3-pointer less than a minute later, and Davidson led 65-60.

Davidson is one of the best teams, in every sense of the word, in the game. It runs intricate offensive sets and shares the basketball like few others, but Davidson was no longer running offense. Curry had become the offense. He finished the Hoyas off by making five free throws in the final 23.6 seconds.

Curry finished with 30 points. He scored 25 in the final 14:24. Wait a minute, let me try that sentence again:

He outscored Georgetown 25-22 in the final 14:24.

Have there been better individual performances in NCAA tournament history? Sure. Notre Dame's Austin Carr scored 61 points in a game in 1970. UCLA's Bill Walton made 21-of-22 shots in the 1973 championship game. Kentucky's Jack Givens had 41 points in the 1978 title game.

Look at the names of those teams: Notre Dame. UCLA. Kentucky.

Curry plays for Davidson. In the Southern Conference.

And Curry has done it two games in a row. Soon he will go for three.

Later this week in Detroit, Wisconsin will try to stop him in the Sweet 16. Wisconsin has one of the best defenses in the country. Three teams this season couldn't break 40 against the Badgers.

Curry might just do it by himself.

MY Super Sweet 16!

2008-03-23T16:21:00.000-07:00

DAVIDSON WINS!!!!!

74-70 over the No. 2 Georgetown Hoyas. Steph Curry had 30 points (that's 70 total over the last 2 games, 55 of which occurred in the second half). Jason Richards contributed 20 big ones as well.

If Daddy were here, we'd have already bought tickets to Detroit to see the Cats face Wisconsin in the Sweet Sixteen!

Wowsas! What a team!

It's A GREAT Day To Be A Wildcat!

2008-03-22T07:51:00.000-07:00

DAVIDSON WINS!!!

Holy moly! What a game! 82-76 against Gonzaga.

Stephen Curry had 40 freakin' points!

I love these boys! I love my alma mater!

Next stop: Georgetown!

My Heart Will Always Be Yours, Honestly

2008-03-18T21:35:00.000-07:00

I heard from an old friend today. Mike and I met in a Sports chat room on America Online years ago - I was 12 years old, he was 14. Our friendship and mutual hockey obsession soon blossomed into an online romance (before it was trendy to have one) and we kept in regular contact for a good two years, then sporadically throughout our high school and college years. We never met face-to-face. I had the chance when my family went to Chicago for a vacation, but I chickened out on him. Stupid Teeny.

We've both moved on with our lives but I randomly searched for him on Classmates.com last year, and lo and behold, there he was. I was smarting from losing my father and nostalgic for comfort, so I sent him a quick message.

Then, many months later, what do I discover in my e-mail inbox this afternoon, but a message from dear ol' Mike. It was like a breath of fresh air! I seem to have discovered a friendship that will never fade with years or distance. Whatever our romantic history, Mike had a way of making me feel completely at peace with whatever else was happening in my life. What a blessing.

I'm a lucky girl.

Anniversary, Of Sorts

2008-03-16T14:56:00.000-07:00

One year ago today, my dad called me with the dreaded words...

"I have lung cancer."

Our entire world then proceeded to turn upside down and inside out. And try as we might to keep going, one day at a time, it will never be right again.

In the words of the Grateful Dead, what a long, strange trip it's been.

Headed To the Big Dance

2008-03-10T23:13:00.000-07:00

Davidson WON the Southern Conference tourney in Charleston tonight. In the words of ESPN2, Davidson is the real deal!

March Madness begins! It's a GRRRRREAT day to be a Wildcat!

Sweet Caroline, WHOA WHOA WHOA!

My Hips Don't Lie

2008-03-05T21:41:00.000-08:00

Today Mom and I tried a new exercise class being offered at our gym...

ZUMBA!!!

A bit of mamba, a little o' salsa and a lot of cha cha, Instructor Eddie had us shaking our groove things for an hour straight. It was the fastest hour of cardio I have EVER experienced - what a fun way to burn almost 800 calories (yes, that's right, I said 800 calories).

Thanks to Eddie, Nancy (step class), Mel (our "Vutuko" tambourine dance teacher - another one that will kick your booty), and Abby (my amazing personal trainer), I have a rediscovered vitality and a basal metabolic rate that is about to shoot off the charts. I'm waking with the alarm at 5:30 a.m., hitting the gym with Abby or on my own, and then coming back for a class most nights of the week. I am less hungry overall and more aware of what I put into my body. I am drinking water like a fish. I am shedding the pounds.

And, best of all, I feel GRRRRRRRRRRRRREAT!

The Obama Movement

2008-03-02T14:32:00.001-08:00

My friend Akin put together an amazing video to promote The Obama Movement, a collection of 25 essays by young people (including yours truly) about why they support Barack Obama for President.

The book is available for sale on Amazon.com. Check it out!

Scratch That. Meet Kabi Jo.

2008-02-27T21:49:00.000-08:00

No sooner had we decided we loved the name Zoey when my Aunt Minnie pointed out that Dad surely would have wanted the pup to have a first name that started with a "K" and the middle name of "Jo." It's a tradition for the females in our family, and as you all know by now, my father loved traditions.

We threw around tons of different names at Minnie's CAbi party. (A quick digression, for those not in the know: CAbi stands for Carol Anderson by Invitation. It is a clothing line sold through house parties, and Minnie's daughter - my cousin Lynn - is a sales consultant. Check out her website - the Spring/Summer line is WAY cute! We are having a party at our house in late April, to give me as much time as possible to get down another size or two before I blow a paycheck on a new wardrobe).

Anyway, since we were at a CAbi party, we thought "Why not name her Kabi with a 'K'?" As silly as that sounds, everyone loved it and the name stuck.

So Kabi Jo it is. We just took her in to get spayed yesterday - the poor thing is not a happy camper. But even when she's miserable, she's still as sweet and cute as can be.

Thank you, Daddy!

Meet Zoey(?)

2008-02-21T23:16:00.000-08:00

Okay, so we haven't officially decided on a name yet, but seeing as our little Valentine's present is still around and no one else has claimed her, we're all getting very comfortable with the idea of her staying put. My sister even took her to the vet to get her shots updated and get a clean bill of health. Ladies and gentlemen, here is our 5 (or so)-year old Chihuahua mix sweetpea-of-a-dog:

With my mom and sister.

Tonight we started genuinely tossing around ideas on what to call her. We wanted something Valentine-themed, considering when we found her and in honor of the idea that Daddy had something to do with bringing her into our lives at this time. Our friend Elizabeth proposed "Corazón" (which is "heart" in Spanish) and just calling her Zoey for short. We like it.

Any other ideas, before we settle on this one?

Valentine From Daddy

2008-02-16T17:18:00.000-08:00

Valentine's day was a toughie. I sent my mom flowers and we ordered sushi and just laid low for the evening. But the best part was that we have a new (but probably temporary) furry addition to the family.

Driving home from step class, we saw a little dog in the road who looked very frightened, so we pulled over to check its tags and call its owner. To our dismay, there was no collar! Although it took some coaxing, pretty soon the little sweetie was following me home and eventually allowed me to pick her up.

We called the animal shelter and they scanned her for an ID chip. Nada. So they have our contact information in case anyone calls missing their little dog. Legally the owners only have 5 days to claim her but of course we'd give her back if they tracked her down.

In the meantime, we get to keep her! It's been a joy - she is the most cuddly little dog I've ever seen. She's older, already house-trained and very obedient. People have been encouraging my mom to get a dog for months and she has always protested. But this little one is a gem so maybe, just maybe....

Our last dog Kenzie was also found wandering the streets when my dad went out for sushi. Ironically, we were headed out for sushi this time too. Not to mention the fact that we found our new little friend on February 14th. Maybe Dad managed to send us a Valentine after all...

The "D-Word"

2008-02-13T23:00:00.000-08:00

One significant chapter of my life is coming to a close. After trying valiantly for 2.5 years, I've decided to end my marriage. The divorce process is underway and it is a bittersweet experience. Thank God I can file here in California, which does not have an antiquated law like North Carolina's about having to be physically separated for a year before even being able to petition.

The writing has been on the wall for a long time, even before my father got sick last year. Through a combination of tragic experiences, culture clashes and financial stress, we found ourselves drifting apart. And the harder we both tried to fix things, the worse it got because our methods of trying to mend fences were completely opposite. When I moved here last summer, I knew that the months apart would be the final straw.

My friend pointed out to me the other day that we got married somewhat under duress because it was either get hitched or don't be together, thanks to immigration policies that required us to say our vows within 90 days of his arrival with a K-1 fiance visa. Under "normal" circumstances, we would have lived together and realized that it just wasn't working long before I walked down that aisle.

I married him because I genuinely believed I would spend my life with him (and have ADORABLE children). I loved him then, and always will. The problems were never about disliking each other or fighting all the time. There is just a fundamental incompatibility (not only due to cultural differences) that cannot be bridged no matter how hard we have tried. Our fondness for one another is not enough to make a marriage work. But we like and respect each other enough that I hope we have laid the foundation for a lasting and fond friendship.

So what's next for Teeny Jo? I take back my maiden name (never to be legally changed again, thankyouverymuch). I focus on healing from a hell of a 2007. I keep up the healthy choices and focus on how to make sure I never again let others control my emotions and self-perception. I resume my pursuit of my vocation in nursing. I dip my toe back into the dating pool, but only ever so gingerly. That's the worst part of divorce, in my opinion. You automatically have your guard up against every new guy that comes along. I am willing to give it another go but "Caution" signs abound.

But still, 2008 continues to be the year of the Teeny. I am thankful for that.

Family Wedding

2008-02-10T15:25:00.001-08:00

Saturday was a GREAT day! Not only did Obama sweep Nebraska, Louisiana, Washington, AND the U.S. Virgin Islands, but I got to attend my cousin Ashley's wedding.

It was a lovely ceremony, the bride and groom were blissfully happy (we all LOVE the groom and his family!), and there was much dancing, eating, and drinking to be had. The band was fabulous. What a party!

The fam.

Cousins!

Mr. and Mrs. "Chalmerington".

I just realized that of the many weddings I attended in Durham, most of them were as an assistant wedding director. It was great fun to be a guest for a change! I did recognize the wedding coordinators right off the bat by the frazzled looks on their faces.

The insane part is, I actually really miss that job! I'm excited to have a dear friend getting married at Duke Chapel in June, and I get to help. Just like the good ol' days!

Let's Go Devils!

2008-02-06T22:53:00.000-08:00

Round 1 goes to Duke!!

I watched the game with my good friends Brent and Emily. We've known them forever - their son and I grew up together, and their daughter and my sister are still best friends.

Papa Brent 'n me...

Because they're like family, I'll forgive the fact that Em went to Carolina. :) They invited me to join them at a local sports bar, where we amicably shook hands and agreed that whoever won, neither of us would gloat. When we arrived, I realized it was a UNC alumni event!!! Needless to say, I was the only one with a smile on my face as the final minutes wound down. I'm sure I drew some ire and will probably not be invited back. But it felt so good to (quietly) cheer in a room filled with Carolina blue!

In one month and two days, the rivalry will move up Highway 15-501 to Cameron Indoor Stadium for the last game of the regular season. Oooh, will it be a doozy!!!

Greg Paulus, the 3-point wonder. 6 of 8 from behind the arc.
He's been incredible lately!

Go To Hell, Carolina!

2008-02-05T22:25:00.001-08:00

I may have moved back to the West Coast, but I will be a Cameron Crazie 'til the day I die!!

Tomorrow is round 1 of the Duke-Carolina rivalry. I'll be at the local sports bar with my friends (Tar Heels, horror of horrors).

It's going to be a great game!

Super Tuesday!

2008-02-05T07:56:00.001-08:00

Waking up this morning, I was like a kid at Christmas. What a momentous day to be an American! We get to make history today.

I'll be voting for Barack Obama. For anyone who is still undecided, I encourage you to watch this video and think about who will be the best person to lead and heal our country.

But whoever you choose, GET OUT THERE AND VOTE!!

The Suitcase of Hope

2008-01-30T09:40:00.000-08:00

In honor of surpassing my 30-pounds lost milestone (go me!), I thought it was time to share about my suitcase of hope...

Over the past couple of years, as I steadily gained weight thanks to the combined forces of emotional eating, depression and a complete lack of physical activity, I began stashing away some of my favorite outfits that just didn't fit anymore. When I decided to move home to California, I donated some of these clothes, threw away the ones that were old/ripped and of no use to anyone, and packed the rest of them into a suitcase that I then stored in my mother's closet. I resolved that before I moved again, I would fit back into those clothes.

I don't think I'm quite there yet. But I'm thinking perhaps it's time I start taking out one item a week and hanging it in my closet. There's nothing like wanting to fit back into a super cute outfit for a little extra motivation!

The Year of the Doctor

2008-01-27T21:09:00.000-08:00

Someday, when I'm all grown up and have a better sense of humor about life's trials and tribulations, I will look back on these moments with a fond smile and an amused shake of my head.

But for now, I am PISSED! I woke up this morning with a roaring headache - too much wine last night, perhaps? So I took a Motrin and got on with my day. By the time I was sitting at the movies with my friend, I couldn't stop coughing. By the time I got home, I was ready to be horizontal on the couch. My entire body ached and I was burning up. Why? Because apparently I have 102-degree fever!!!!

This is the second time in my young adult life I actually got the flu vaccine, and the second year in the same time span that I have had the flu this bad. Guess when I got sick the last time? The last time I got vaccinated! That mother took almost three weeks to get over. And thus far, this one is worse.

Not that I would use my bad luck to discourage the flu vaccine. As a future health care worker, I know how important it is and I know that statistically, I was bound to get sick at some point anyway.

But I'll be damned.

Precious Angel

2008-01-25T10:35:00.001-08:00

My cousin and his amazing wife welcomed their second daughter Madison into the world last November. She had a lot of breathing problems from the beginning and was ultimately diagnosed with campomelic dysplasia, a rare genetic disorder that is usually fatal before age 1.

Madison had been home for a while before she was readmitted to the hospital about a week ago and was then moved to a beautiful pediatric hospice facility called George Mark Children's House. It's the kind of place I'd like to work at some day when I become a nurse.

Here is a video of her and her older sister Makayla right before she went back in the hospital...

After 2 1/2 months of cherishing every moment and pouring their hearts into their family, they said farewell to precious little Madison this morning. She passed away in her mother's arms, surrounded by her father and brave big sister.

As the second major tragedy to affect my father's side of the family in less than a year, this one hit everyone hard.

But the love and strength of my family take my breath away. We are truly blessed to have each other...

Creaky Knees

2008-01-22T22:49:00.000-08:00

So I decided today that since I've been working so hard and seeing good results, I was ready for the infamous "Step and Sculpt with Nancy" class at the gym. My mom and sister, who are regulars, as well as Nancy herself, have all been encouraging me to come for the last couple weeks. So my boss and I decided we would try it together.

Well, it kicked my a**!!! I'm going to hurt in entirely new places tomorrow. She dumbed it down for us and I still missed a bunch of steps.

But boy am I addicted to the endorphin rush that follows a good workout! And I am sure as hell going back Thursday for the next class. The combination of fitness, coordination and balance is a fantastic challenge, especially considering that she also throws in a good 20 minutes of strength training and ab work at the end. What I loved is that when she could see we were getting tired, she exclaimed "Yes you can!" and it gave us that extra bit of motivation to finish a sequence or keep doing those impossible arm lifts.

Tomorrow morning Ari and I begin our twice-weekly morning walk routine. Gotta keep it up - spring is just around the corner. And nursing school soon after, which will take a lot of physical strength and endurance!

Coming soon: a blog about my "suitcase of hope".

Paradise Found

2008-01-20T12:20:00.000-08:00

Photos from our adventures - actually, lazy days - on Lana'i...

Family moment to match one of our favorite pictures of Daddy...Shaka!

Hula performance in the Kailani Terrace.

Sunset view from our hotel room...

Beautiful Mommy

Headed home :( This plane was awfully small and it was awfully windy that day!

Hyfrydol

2008-01-20T11:49:00.000-08:00

Something amazing happened this morning when I went back to church, as I had resolved to do.

After stopping by the cemetery to wish my father a good morning, I headed over to my aunt's Presbyterian church nearby. Our own neighborhood church, where I attended Vacation Bible School and "Preparing for Adolescence" classes, is a little (okay, a lot) on the conservative side and I have wanted for a long time to try something different. I certainly found it.

A progressive, "green" church in a beautiful new building, it is headed by a justice-minded minister whose sermon content reminded me of the pastor back at my beloved church during my college days. The music was gorgeous, the people were welcoming, and it just felt so good to be back.

But by far the most profound moment of the day was the processional hymn: "Love Divine, All Loves Excelling". In the Hyfrydol tune by Rowland H. Pritchard. The exact tune to which I walked down the aisle arm-in-arm with my father on my wedding day. Just as I did when we sang "Joy To the World" at Christmas Eve, I teared up and knew Dad was there.

Out of the hundreds of possible hymns to sing my first day back in church, the appointed song was perfect. The morning was perfect. Daddy would have loved it. I sure did.

Porque, Queso?

2008-01-19T21:59:00.001-08:00

Well I may be against the concept of "blowing it" as far as healthy eating is concerned, but that doesn't mean I can't kick myself when I forget/overlook the fact that I no longer have a gallbladder.

Tonight we dined with my aunt and uncle at our favorite hole-in-the-wall Mexican restaurant. The best margaritas in town! For some reason I was all over the free chips. Then my uncle ordered a big plate of extremely cheesy nachos with guacamole. Yum! I gobbled those puppies down like there was no tomorrow. As did everyone else. By the time our actual dinner came (which I smartly shared with my mom), we were all stuffed.

And then my body rebelled. "Teenyjo, how the hell can I digest this stuff without a gallbladder?" it scolded. We had to cut the festivities short because my stomach couldn't take it anymore.

The way I see it, my gallbladder removal was like an insurance policy against making unhealthy food decisions. And tonight, my premiums went up. But I'll drink some water and take a long walk in the morning, and all will be well.

Next time, just say no to nachos! Feeling this crappy is enough of a deterrent!!

Metabolic Miracle

2008-01-18T14:55:00.000-08:00

So I knew I was going to gain weight in Hawaii - all those alcohol calories have to go somewhere (see below). But thanks to a commitment to exercise daily on my vacation, the scale only tipped a few extra pounds the day I came home.

And to my delight and surprise, as of this morning, I'm already back to where I started before Hawaii. This working out regularly and eating healthy thing has done wonders for my metabolism and I can just feel the energy!

One thing I learned last year...never let someone else dictate your happiness. Since I know I'm an emotional eater, I have to be hyper-aware of how I let situations and people affect me.

And if you're in a crappy mood, go for a walk instead of reaching for a cookie!

Kicking and Screaming

2008-01-15T22:15:00.000-08:00

That was my state of mind as I packed and prepared to return home from my new favorite Hawaiian island: Lana'i! Goodbye tropical air, hello marine layer. Alas, real life is not wasting any time, as I have to be back at work tomorrow morning.

Our trip consisted of hikes, great snorkeling in Hulopo'e Bay, a visit to the fabulous spa for an afternoon, venturing to Lana'i "City" (Population: 3,000), lots of fantastic seafood (and the discovery of how many things taste amazing with truffle oil - YUM), and lots of sitting by the pool and soaking in the tropical breezes and bright sunlight. Just what the doctor ordered!

I had two goals for the vacation and I am proud to say I met both of them. The first was to exercise daily. I even did this morning before we checked out! My original thought was that I would love not to gain any weight while away, but I quickly realized how unrealistic that would be given the combination of regular restaurant food and gazillions of calories consumed via alcohol.

Which brings me to my next goal: from the time we checked in to the time we were homeward bound, I was determined not to have the same beverage more than once. Although the mantra "When in Hawai'i, drink mai tais" certainly makes sense, I thought it would make me more adventurous and bring me home with some new concoctions to try when I'm out with friends. I don't normally drink much, but it was certainly fun to have a taste of what turned out to be a DELICIOUS array...

Ocean Blue
Mango-Ginger Mojito
Hulapo'e Punch
Orange Passion Mimosa
Lava Flow
Chocolate Martini
Mai Tai
Pinot Grigio
Whiskey Sour
Extra dirty gin martini
Pinot Noir
Lemon Twist
Pineapple Margarita
Kona Cappucino Freeze
Cosmopolitan
Bikini Bellini
Champagne
Bloody Mary

DISCLAIMER: This trip was about a whole lot more than drinking. It was about healing. But sometimes healing is helped along with a little self-medication. Besides, as my father used to say, "WE'RE ON VACATION!!!"

Pictures to come, I promise...

Aloha!

2008-01-09T23:48:00.000-08:00

And we're off, folks! I promise to post pictures when I get back from the beautiful island of Lana'i.

Have a safe and happy weekend and don't do anything I wouldn't do....

Say Wha'?

2008-01-08T20:45:00.000-08:00

Not quite sure where this Hillary win in New Hampshire came from, but I'm determined not to let it get me down. There is a long way to go... :) And it was a super narrow margin so that's a good sign.

Not to mention that I only have one more day of work before I fly off to do the hula, swim with dolphins and sip mai tais on the beach. Nice!

Vacation, All I Ever Wanted

2008-01-07T07:33:00.000-08:00

All I have to do is get through the next three days! Then Thursday morning, the fam heads to the airport and jets off to HAWAII!! I have been awaiting this vacation eagerly since we booked our tickets last fall. We chose to stay on Lana'i because it's a small island with not a whole lot to do, which is exactly the point. This is an escape as well as an adventure; we haven't gotten out of town since Catalina in August and it's time...

My goals for the trip include visiting the gym at least once a day for a good solid workout, reading a lot, eating fresh fruit and seafood morning, noon and night, and finding all of the beverages the hotel serves with little umbrellas. And taking pictures, which I will make sure to post here (at least a few).

In the spirit of vacation indulgence, here's a little ditty from Fit for Life that I found appropriate. And timely - it used to be that if I was naughty and ate something bad for me, I gave up on being healthy for the next several weeks, if not months. But now I'm noticing a new philosophy emerge. For example, I stayed over at a friend's house Saturday night and she ordered a pizza at midnight because she had a craving. Did I eat some of the pizza? Yes. Did I hate myself afterward? No. I went home the next morning, took a long walk with my mom and aunt, and was back to my normal habits. I might have gained a pound with the "slip" but I'll lose it quickly and I don't feel like giving up this time. That's a huge victory in and of itself.

So without further ado, Victoria Moran:

The scenario is, "I ate a [cookie, potato chip, candy bar]. I blew it. So now I have to eat for three days and be really miserable." Remember: there is nothing to blow. You are not on a diet. You had a cookie. Fine. I hope it tasted good. ... The blowing it concept is a setup. It's a mind game overeaters play to give themselves permission to eat for a fix. If you blow it, you have to throw in the towel. Give up. Wallow in remorse. Then you have to face the daunting prospect of starting over: a new diet, another exercise regiment, another monumental undertaking.

My intent for this vacation is not to "blow it." But if I do reach for that dessert plate one night, life is not over. And it feels really good to know that.

In Closing

2008-01-04T23:40:00.001-08:00

Thought I would send y'all off to bed with a bit of sage advice from Victoria Moran:

Commit yourself to living a quality life. Put all the energy, emphasis, and willpower you used to spend going on diets and hating your hips into increasing the quality of your life. Take advantage of all that is offered to you today ... Don't miss a chance to experience beauty or have an adventure. Fill yourself with wonder so you don't have to fill yourself with so much dinner. You deserve a quality life. Good food will be part of it, but not nearly the best part.

'Nuf said. :) Sweet dreams!

You Can't Stop the Beat

2008-01-04T23:33:00.000-08:00

I watched Hairspray tonight with my mom, sister and BFF/life partner Cari. It was awesome - I was literally dancing in my seat. Great cast, great music, FANTASTIC choreography. Bravo, Adam Shankman!

And I kept coming back to the thought that Dad would have absolutely loved this movie. I could imagine him doing the twist in the middle of the TV room (and subsequently blocking everyone else's view), and then having the soundtrack stuck in his head for the next several weeks. He was a true lover of the performing arts.

This vision made me really happy, not only because it would have been a comical scene, but also because I was finally able to imagine my Dad healthy and well (and boogeying like he loved to do). Those moments are happening more and more often and are gradually supplanting the memories of his horror-filled final hours.

Not that I'll ever forget them. But it's comforting to think of Dad still shakin' his groove thing from up above.

OBAMA TAKES IOWA!

2008-01-03T23:02:00.001-08:00

Next stop: New Hampshire.

It's a new day, America!

Say a Little Prayer

2008-01-03T10:36:00.000-08:00

A friend of mine from Durham e-mailed yesterday - she had just heard the news about Dad and send a very thoughtful note that concluded with the words, "I am praying with you and may God continue to Bless you. Seek him, while he may be found."

I've thought a lot about faith, my own and others', over the past several months. Those readers who know me know my story...finally finding a church in college where I felt that it was okay to ask questions, attending divinity school on a challenge scholarship, realizing through this experience that my true vocation is nursing. And then the ultimate test: losing a parent in an untimely and painful manner. A parent I loved dearly. A parent with whom I was able to share my faith.

So you can imagine that since my father's death, my emotions have run the gamut from quiet acceptance to outright anger. I had stopped going to church regularly back in North Carolina and never really got back into it. On the other hand, I made sure that Dad's memorial included a hymn and saluted his own beliefs. And maybe, just maybe, my faith has unobstrusively helped me process my grief in a different way. When I visit Dad's gravesite, I can vividly imagine him in heaven, hanging out with loved ones who have gone before him.

There are certainly days when I question why this happened. But there's no good answer. I hate hearing that this is part of "God's plan" - that's not a belief I'll accept or subscribe to. But that doesn't mean I can't believe that God is with us here now, and is grieving with me and reassuring me that all is not lost.

At the Christmas Eve service, I came close to bursting into tears. Not because of the sermon, which I thought was a little strange, to be honest. But because for the first time, I could really feel my dad's presence. Church was always "our" place and it just so happened that this Christmas Eve, we sang "Joy to the World" (one of his favorite hymns - boy would he belt it out!) at the end. It's normally played at the beginning, and we would have missed it because we were late. But not this year. Funny how that happens...

So in the spirit of New Year's Resolutions, I think I'm going to give it another shot. I'll probably start with "church-hopping" just to see what's out there. My father and I had tried out a couple of local Methodist churches and I'll visit those in addition to others in the area. But even on Sundays where I feel that spiritual emptiness, perhaps being in a place of worship will help me feel closer to Dad.

Nighty-Nite

2008-01-01T23:24:00.001-08:00

I went to town on Amazon.com after receiving oodles of gift cards from Santa (who must know how much I love to read), and decided to follow the advice of one of my favorite blogs, Kath Eats Real Food. And she's a fellow Davidson alum, ergo she must be a smart cookie. :)

Anyway, Kath recommended a book that is already changing my life in the short week I've begun reading it. It's called Fit from Within, by Victoria Moran, and it is made up of short chapters I can read right before bedtime. It is packed full of wisdom about the importance of changing your life rather than going on a diet.

Every diet plan I've tried has failed miserably because the minute I went off it, I got discouraged and turned back to food for comfort. And no fad diet teaches you how to actually survive in the real world, so that once you've lost the weight and have stopped the plan you can maintain. Instead, they set you up to either fail or depend on their special foods and "services" (often with a hefty price tag) to keep you going

No sir, any successful weight loss must be part of a larger effort at transforming your relationship with food and desiring to be healthy for life. So this book may actually be a saving grace because it is motivating me to keep up the good work for the benefit of my self, and not my bathroom scale. I'm already noticing tiny differences - New Year's festivities weren't consumed with fearing what kinds of hors d'ouevres were available. If I wanted a bit of cheese dip, I had a bit of cheese dip. That piece of chocolate nested in a See's candy box? It had no chance. But I only had one and I wasn't hanging around the food the whole night. In the past I might have sat directly in front of the food spread and reached for the goods every time I got a chance.

Between my gallbladder-less digestive system and Ms. Moran, I think I'm gonna do this right this time!

Bittersweet

2008-01-01T11:42:00.000-08:00

As much as I was looking forward to New Year's Eve, when the clock struck midnight part of me wished that we could hold onto 2007. My fear is that with each New Year I'll lose a little bit of the sorrow. Not that I want to be sad always - grieving evolves with time - but the further we get from September 26th, 2007, the more my father becomes a memory and not a live person.

A family friend of ours described it well last night: you start needing to make appointments to grieve because you don't want to lose touch with the intense love exhibited in intense grief. So I'll just have to be more intentional as time goes by...

Nonetheless, there is much to look forward to in 2008 and I am glad that I have a guardian angel to help me face each new day with grace and peace. And it seems fitting today to honor my incredible Dad by leaving you with one of his favorite Bible verses (Psalm 118:24):

"This is the day the Lord has made. Let us rejoice and be glad in it!"

Mies en place

2007-12-31T12:53:00.000-08:00

(Translation: Everything in its place)

This was Dad's favorite phrase to use in the kitchen. It basically means to prepare for your next meal ahead of time. Chop the veggies, set out the ingredients, wash the prep dishes before you start cooking, etc. I can vividly recall my father running around our kitchen island hollering out "Time to mies en place!" hours before we were to have guests over for dinner. He loved to pretend that he could speak foreign languages. :)

So tonight is New Year's Eve and instead of venture out on a night when couples everywhere smooch at the stroke of midnight, our couple-less family is having a Game Night tournament. And my job is to make our famous vegetarian chipotle chili. Mmmm.... Everytime I've made this recipe, it gets rave reviews. Thank you, Cooking Light October 2006 issue! Or was it November?

So I'm off to mies en place! Dad would be so pleased. Happy New Year everyone - see you in 2008!

And We're Off

2007-12-26T18:59:00.001-08:00

Ventured back to the gym this afternoon to try my luck with the stationary cycle. I survived for 45 minutes but have been completely knocked out for the rest of the day. Baby steps, Teeny, baby steps.

But having successfully navigated the crazy holiday weight-crunch (thanks to the ol' gallstone), I'm more determined than ever to stay on track. See Exhibit A to the right - my Traineo.com weight loss tracker. You can sign on to be my "motivator" at their website. It always helps to get encouragement from a few coaches. :)

Given this new lease on life and in honor of the upcoming New Year festivities, I therefore unveil my new campaign: "Healthy Teeny 2008". It's way more than a weight loss goal (although losing weight and fitting back into my favorite outfits will be a major residual plus). It's a plan to carry out the promise I made to myself and to my father to make 2008 a better year for my mind, body and spirit. It's kind of a "do-ever" on my adulthood, which has had its fair share of trials and tribulations.

A new Teeny. With a new 'do (to dye or not to dye). And a new bod. And a new city (when I start nursing school next fall). And a new future. Here we go...

We Did It

2007-12-26T00:23:00.000-08:00

And I must say, rather successfully.

There were certainly moments when tears were shed. But that is to be expected on this first Christmas without Daddy (and every Christmas from now on, for that matter). Gifts with great sentimental value were exchanged. And we visited Dad for a long while this afternoon. Although I've adjusted to the reality of seeing his name on the gravestone, I still feel like I've been punched in the stomach every time I sneak a look.

The good news is, there were also a lot of moments that Dad would have loved. From the Christmas Eve festivities (read: chaos and debauchery as only our family can do it) to the Christmas morning traditions to the annual delivery of homemade tamales from our wonderful friend Ari, Christmas '07 was certainly one to be treasured.

And of course, when this family celebrates the holidays, we can't help but add a little comic relief to the mix. The highlight of this year was walking into church at 4:30 for the Christmas Eve service, only to find out that this year they switched the time to 4:00 instead of 5:00. We made it just in time for the pastor's meditation and a couple of carols, and then we were out the door again. And we couldn't help but notice that we weren't the only ones who made this blooper. 'Guess us Christmas Eve Christians/heathens didn't get the memo. Daddy would have checked ahead of time but we've been going there at 5:00 for so many years, we figured we were safe. Oops!

Honorable Comedic Mention goes to my sister Kayley for intentionally becoming the center of attention for the entirety of Christmas Eve. 5 words, Lil' Sis: "On behalf of my mother..."

This is the kind of Christmas my father taught us to create. And I can't help but imagine him watching us from above with happiness and pride and quite a bit of sadness that he's unable to take in the fun himself. Of course, knowing him, he's befriended everyone in heaven and probably threw a Christmas bash that put ours to shame.

Merry Christmas, Daddy. We did the best we could but it will never be the same. We love you!

A Man of Tradition

2007-12-24T09:03:00.000-08:00

If I could capture my father with one word...well, actually that would be impossible, but if I narrowed it down to three descriptors, one would have to be "traditional". Not in the imposing, this-is-the-way-things-are way but in the celebratory, I-love-to-create-a-legacy way. Whether we were doing birthday strings or cooking a Thanksgiving turkey on the ole family rotisserie, there were certain traditions that Dad cherished because they were part of our fabric.

And then there was Christmas. If Dad loved Halloween and adored Thanksgiving, he treasured Christmas. It was the one time of year when we knew we would all be together. From the homemade advent calendar, to waiting until we were all home to put the angel atop the tree, to planning an elaborate Christmas Eve feast, our family was swimming in daily Christmas traditions. We could always count on Dad storming in to the house like a puppy dog on his last day of work before the holiday, hollering "WE'RE ON VACATION!" And starting the celebration on December 23rd with a "Merry Christmas Eve-Eve" greeting. And videotaping his now grown children waiting at the bottom of the stairs on Christmas morning to be released into a living room wonderland of festive music and overflowing stockings.

We have managed somehow to keep most of those traditions alive this year. We still baked up a storm of Christmas cookies (actually, mom did). We still posed for a picture when putting the angel on the tree. We'll still have a big Christmas Eve party with an elaborate meal (this year it's cornish game hens atop a Christmas wreath medley of vegetables and wild rice...yum!). My sister and brother and I will still go to the 5:00 service at church tonight.

And yet nothing feels the same as it has for the previous 26 years. The man who created most of these moments isn't here. And that seems to make all the difference...

I'm Ba-ack!

2007-12-21T14:34:00.001-08:00

As surgeries go, cholecystectomies have the reputation of being among the "easiest" (as if there's such a thing as an easy surgery!). Now I understand why...

I checked in at the hospital at 1:30 pm on Wednesday. Up to the short-stay unit to change into the oh-so-flattering open-backed hospital gown (how many folks d'you think I inadvertently mooned while admitted? I'm taking guesstimates). Then I got a wheelchair ride down to pre-op holding where the poor unfortunate anesthesiologist attempted to find a cooperative vein. I pity the fool who must locate a vessel in these arms. And those IV needles are freakin' HUGE! Mommy was there to hold my hand through it all, and my surgical nurse successfully distracted me with her own gallstone horror story of being diagnosed while pregnant and unable to undergo surgery until after her baby was born. And I thought my situation was awful.

The IV successfully started after 15 minutes of poking and prodding, I was pumped full of Versed and wheeled into the OR by 4 pm. All I remember is greeting the nurses with a huge if somewhat goofy grin and scooting from the gurney to the operating table.

30 seconds later (or so it seemed) I was stirring and being told that I was in recovery and all had gone well. Already?

By 6:30 I was back in the short-stay unit emerging from my haze and fearful of the impending nausea. My last experience with general anesthesia...not so pleasant. But either the drugs or my tolerance have improved - no upchucking for me! Soon afterward they proclaimed me ready for discharge when I successfully got up and used the little girl's room, and I was home by 8 that evening.

Since then I've medicated myself through the worst of the post-op pain (thank you Vicodin!) and although I'm still nowhere near 100%, I'm feelin' pretty groovy.

And so relieved that this is over!

Catch Ya on the Flip Side

2007-12-19T10:50:00.000-08:00

T-minus 2.5 hours until I make my appearance at patient check-in. T-minus 5 hours until I go under the knife. T-minus (hopefully) 7 hours until this is over with.

See you in a few days! :)

Thank You Daddy!

2007-12-18T14:34:00.001-08:00

Well my guardian angel has gotten right to work 'cuz the pieces keep falling into place for this surgery. I had a fantastic consult with the doctor this morning - he was friendly, informative, clear and took as much time as I needed. He even drew little diagrams to explain what was going on now and what the surgery would do.

Then I went to meet with his scheduling nurse in the hopes they might be able to squeeze me in as early as possible in January (he's out of town next week until Jan. 2nd and I figured there's no way they could find a place for me this week).

Lo and behold, when his scheduling nurse called the hospital about OR availability, someone had JUST called to cancel an appointment for tomorrow. Whadduya know!?!?! I should be feeling human again by the weekend and pretty decent by Christmas. And I'll be ready and raring to go for our family trip to Hawaii in January. Nice.

So on Wednesday, December 19th at about 4 pm PST, think happy thoughts and say a little prayer. I hate general anesthesia but I hate gallstones more.

This Is Getting Ridiculous...

2007-12-17T16:09:00.000-08:00

...and unhealthy. Got on the ol' scale this morning and have dropped 3 more pounds in the last two days. That's minus 24 pounds since Thanksgiving.

Not that I'm complaining - this is a great start to my weight loss goals for the year - but at what cost? I'm most definitely malnourished.

I just want to make sure that when the pounds come off, they stay off and that I do this in a way that makes me healthier and stronger. So the minute I feel halfway decent post-surgery, it's back to the gym I go!

Thank God for Small Favors (And Vicodin)

2007-12-15T20:25:00.001-08:00

I must have sounded really pitiful on the phone last week because one of the surgeon's assistants I spoke with convinced him to see me for a consult this coming Tuesday (their first available appointment on the books wasn't until January). Hopefully that means he'll be just as willing to squeeze me in for the actual surgery.

My only other option is to hop on over to Wendy's and stuff my face with a Jalapeno Cheddar Double Melt, let it do its magic on my digestive system (spicy + greasy + cheesy = my gallbladder working overtime) and then crawl to the ER in genuinely unbearable pain, hoping that they get me in for surgery right then and there.

While my situation is not life-threatening, here's the thing... I have the option of not eating and avoiding the pain but also being on the verge of passing out from weakness (and also not being able to drive for fear of fainting at the wheel- yes, it's that bad). No fun. Or I could suck it up and eat, then nip the pain in the bud with a little white pill. Better, but it means being fuzzy for the next several hours. And since there's very little in my stomach to help absorb the medication, the effects last that much longer. So I'm light-headed and dizzy either way - take your pick between malnutrition or narcotics.

I hate to admit it, but there is silver living for this one ... at least it is serving as a distraction from the "Merry" bit of "Merry Christmas".

Paging Dr. Teeny

2007-12-11T22:49:00.000-08:00

Being a nerd comes in handy sometimes. Like when you conduct your own differential diagnosis (see below) and turn out to be exactly right. That white boomerang I saw yesterday at my ultrasound is most definitely a gallstone. A 1.3 cm gallstone, to be exact. "Quite large," to quote my doctor.

Doc gave me the option of trying a few more tests but said based on the results and my symptoms, he's pretty confident that this is the source of my pain. So he made me a copy of my ultrasound report, gave me a list of general surgeons he recommends, and sent me on my way.

The trick will be finding someone willing to squeeze me in before they leave for the holidays. A cholecystectomy (that's gallbladder removal for those who were curious) is not typically considered urgent unless you arrive at the emergency room puking your guts out. Nevermind that I can't eat anything without enormous pain and have lost 9 pounds in 2 weeks. Nevermind that my supervisor told me that waiting until your gallbladder actually ruptures is bad news for you. One doctor's office told me I'd have to wait until mid-February. As if! But another office has an appointment definitely available on January 2nd. A little better and at least it means I won't be susceptible to the added Christmas poundage. They also said they'd see if I could get worked into the December schedule, if at all possible.

Oh well, at least I have a prescription for Vicodin now. Pain? What pain?

This Is My Gallbladder

2007-12-10T17:35:00.000-08:00

Okay, okay, so it's not really my gallbladder (thanks, Google Images). But it's pretty close.

I went for an abdominal ultrasound today because my doctor wanted to get a closer look at what was going on inside that belly of mine. Lo and behold, when they got to the liver/gallbladder, what should appear but a large boomerang-shaped white mass. Also known as a gallstone.

Dammit.

Now I am no radiologist and I could be way off-base, but when I did some research over the weekend and looked at images similar to the one above, I had a sneaking suspicion that this could be the problem. And when they dug that transducer thingamajig (nice health care lingo, Teeny) into my abdomen - which, by the way is pretty uncomfortable - I saw the same image pop up that I'd been staring at all weekend. Put it this way, if it's not a gallstone I saw today, I don't know what else it could be.

Now of all the things it could be, this is one of the more benign. It is fixable and it means that the horrific pain I've been experiencing will soon be a thing of the past. Even better, it means that I'm not losing my mind - I was genuinely concerned that the pain was psychosomatic and I was in need of some serious therapy.

The bad news is, fixing it more than likely requires surgery. Again, a pretty benign procedure that entails removing my gallbladder laparascopically. Discharged from the hospital within 24 hours and fully recovered within a week. Wham, bam, thank you ma'am. And if I thought I got a jump start on my weight loss goals by having zero appetite (for fear of being doubled over in pain for hours after each meal), this is icing on the cake for my poor little bathroom scale.

Still, going under the knife is not appealing to me right about now. Especially because general anesthesia and I don't get along very well. And it's Christmas time. And I am not a fan of spending the night in the same hospital where my Dad suffered for a full month. That place haunts me.

But I guess I should be thankful. It could be so much worse. Who needs a gallbladder anyway?

Differential Diagnosis

2007-12-09T09:04:00.000-08:00

2007 is going into the Hall of Fame as Teeny's worst year ever. Now I'm sick. With what is the question.

It started out innocently enough as an upset stomach and just feeling kind of crappy overall. I toughed it out for a couple of days before taking off work and was starting to feel better with rest. I thought maybe it was just complete exhaustion from a hellish several months or maybe even physical manifestations of my grief.

Then bam, last week my stomach started cramping up in ways I have never before experienced. It wasn't the pain of food poisoning (been there, done that), or PMS cramps (know those well too) - it was in my upper abdomen and it HURT! My doctor prescribed an antacid in case it was a stress-related "nervous stomach" and an anti-spasmodic medicine and said to come back next week if the pain continues. He did order some tests (serum enzyme levels, stool cultures - ew!, etc.), all of which have come back normal.

Unfortunately the pills have done jack for me. And as I started to pay closer attention I began to notice certain patterns. For example, the worst pain kicked in within an hour of a meal, with episodes lasting up to two or three hours. No matter how I shifted positions, there was no relief. I moved around hoping to distract myself from the pain but it didn't really do anything.

Needless to say, this has not really encouraged me to eat anything. As long as there is nothing in my stomach, it is mild discomfort that I can tolerate (for now). Talk about an effective - but dangerous - weight loss plan. And then there is the "bubble factor" - usually when I have an upset stomach, drinking Sprite or ginger ale settles everything down. Not so much this time. In fact, my Sprite last Wednesday almost killed me after I drank it, the pain was so bad.

So...my first phone call tomorrow morning will be to the doctor. I believe the next step is an abdominal ultrasound.

Any wannabe (or real) M.D.'s in the house who want to solve the puzzle? I'm all ears.

Bad Medicine ... Good Management

2007-11-28T23:12:00.000-08:00

Well the health care system may be messed up, doctors may still have huge egos and there may be no simple solution to our complaints, but I have to give kudos to the hospital for wanting to know, in painstaking detail, exactly how bad our experience was. I honestly believe that the Quality Control Chief is invested in learning from us and while publicly tarring and feathering Dad's oncologist may not be an option, I really do think our letter has made a difference.

Dad would like to know we're using his experience to help ease the suffering of other patients. At least our anger can be directed at something constructive, rather than vindictive.

But it doesn't make it hurt any less...

The Empty Stocking

2007-11-25T18:25:00.000-08:00

So this weekend was full of taking down boxes from the attic, putting up Christmas lights and assembling the tree. I stayed away as much as I could. I know I need to be more helpful because Christmas decorations in this house are no small task, but the whole thing feels like a "What's Wrong With This Picture?" activity. I honestly thought we'd at least have one more Christmas, even given the hospital stays and the scan reports of doom. And so I'm just not ready to do this whole season without my father.

Our stockings are already hung on the mantel, including Dad's. We're not quite sure what to do with it. But it just epitomizes all that is wrong with feeling festive when the grand master of all festivities isn't here to take part.

Thanksgiving was hard enough but Christmas is going to wreck me.

Bad Medicine

2007-11-25T12:33:00.000-08:00

One aspect of my father's illness that I haven't really delved into is the unethical, unprofessional, utterly appalling manner in which his own oncologist treated him. While I won't go into details about the hospital or doctor, let's just say that this particular locale has received awards for the cancer care it provides. So you'd think they'd have that whole "care" part down pat.

Alas that was not to be the case. The doctors at said hospital are obviously brilliant and know their sh*t when it comes to cancer, treatment options, clinical trials, etc. But there's something distinctly wrong with an oncologist who knows his patient is dying and rather than help the patient with end-of-life issues, provide supportive care and just be an all-around human being, he instead washes his hands of the situation. As soon as it became clear that my dad's cancer was one of the most aggressive types out there (this information came thanks to his very helpful radiation oncologist), "Dr. No-Good" distanced himself as much as possible from our family.

While Dad spent a good part of the month of August in the hospital for uncontrollable pain and nausea, this particular doctor was still cheerleading Dad along, telling him that he still had options and assuring us that when he felt it was time to discuss hospice, he would let us know. Meanwhile he's telling my mom in the hallway that Dad didn't have much time left and that he would more than likely be discharged into hospice. Why couldn't he tell Dad this? Apparently Dad "wasn't ready." Well pardon me, but isn't it part of the oncologist's job description to help make him ready?

It took Dad's palliative care nurse to sit us down and tell us that we were nearing the end of this journey and recommend that we say whatever needed to be said, and soon. Less than twelve hours later, he was in a coma. When the nurse called Dr. No-Good to tell him of this significant turn for the worse, his response was "Well, it's time we refrain from heroic measures." No sh*t.

I firmly believe that Dad hung on as long and as hard as he did because he truly wasn't ready. And I blame his doctor for that. Of course the prospect of facing one's own death has got to be terrifying - who is ever really ready? But had we had more time to grapple with it, had my father known what was about to happen, I know he would have done some things differently. As would have I.

When the dust settled and the relatives left town, our family sat down and penned a pretty damning letter to the hospital. We didn't mince words and we did name names. It must have gotten their attention, because a few days later, the CEO of the hospital called. He assured my mom that they were already making changes based on some of our observations. And then he told mom that someone would be calling to follow up.

And someone did. The Vice-President in charge of Quality Control, in fact. And we have a meeting with him Tuesday morning. Hell yes.

I know our anger had to be directed somewhere and I know Dad didn't like us criticizing the doctor he trusted with his life. But that's just it...he trusted this doctor and this doctor let him down. And as someone headed into the medical profession, I find it quite disturbing that an institution with multiple accolades for its cancer center is so messed up.

So I'll keep you posted how it goes. I do have to say I'm impressed with how quickly they have responded to our concerns. Hopefully what we contribute will help the next family suffer just a little bit less.

Facing terminal cancer is bad enough. You should at least be able to trust your doctor to help you deal with it.

Gobble Gobble

2007-11-23T08:49:00.000-08:00

Yesterday we faced the task of making a Thanksgiving turkey without the master turkey maker. Yet another moment to realize exactly how much Dad did for us. It was an adventure and we actually ended up making a really yummy turkey but it was just not the same. These "firsts" without my father are really getting to me...

Nurse Teeny

2007-11-14T00:25:00.001-08:00

I've been feverishly working on nursing school applications and just as feverishly seeking out HONEST insights about just what it is I am getting myself into. Lo and behold, there is an entire universe out there of blogs by student nurses and new grad nurses and veteran nurses. And I've come to two conclusions.

The first is, I am insane. But we all knew that. This is a thankless, exhausting, frustrating future into which I am about to embark. But for some masochistic reason, I am looking forward to it.

My second conclusion is that I should throw my hat (nursing cap?) into the ring and join the booming nurse blogosphere. Not for any particular reason. Just because maybe someday, someone else will Google "student nurse blog" and my insights will offer them encouragement. Or send them running for the hills. Either way, I feel that I might have something to contribute to the conversation.

It didn't seem appropriate to start such a blog in this context. This is my safe place, where I can offer more personal, sometimes raw, thoughts about the grief process and what it means to face cancer. My nursing tales belong elsewhere. So here's my new one: The Makings of A Nurse. Enjoy and feel free to pass along the link to anyone you know who may be considering a future in nursing. I promise I won't scare them - at least not intentionally.

A New Year

2007-11-04T16:50:00.000-08:00

After a really emotional week where I almost reached my breaking point on several occasions, I was sitting at Panera studying this afternoon and one of my favorite songs came onto iTunes. I first heard it 15 years ago when my CTY partner-in-crime Stephanie sang it at a talent show. Then it appeared in the finale of the fantastic movie "A Thing Called Love". One of the verses goes something like this:

"There’s a full moon tonight
And I’m bathing in its light
Naked as the day that I was born
There is no shame beneath this sky
I have kissed the past goodbye
And mended up my broken heart so torn
With a sweet sound
Only I can make
And it gets stronger
With every breath I take
And it’s all a part of making me feel new
Makes me think maybe God’s a woman too
Makes me think maybe God’s a woman too."

I had been thinking about the past year and the hell it has been. But the simple fact is, it's not the last time I'm going to look back at a period of my life and think "Wow, that was awful." And I have a choice for how I deal with it.

So in a nutshell, I'm not looking at my birthday as an occasion for sadness. I'm looking at it as a New Year's Day and it's time to make a resolution. My father took care of this family and showed us how to take care of ourselves. So I need to do so. I'll allow myself days of sadness, I'll allow myself to wallow and of course I'll allow myself to cry. But the best way I know how to honor my Dad and the legacy he left is to be healthy. Rather than sink deeper into hopelessness, I can use my grieving more mindfully to consider how I live each day.

One step at a time. But soon I'll not only be as good as new, I'll be better.

Not Ready Yet

2007-11-02T15:13:00.001-07:00

So my mom made an appointment for her, my sister and I to go for counseling with my Dad's friend and colleague who works with families of cancer patients. I opted not to go at the last minute. 'Probably shouldn't have done that and I'm not quite sure why I did. Just the more I thought about going to talk about it, the less I wanted to do so. Part of it is that I'm not quite ready to go there, especially at the tail-end of a very intense week. My brother reminded me that yesterday was the five-year anniversary of putting our beloved family dog to sleep. So we have my birthday, Halloween and Kenzie's death three days in a row. I think if someone asked me a question about how I'm doing today, I would scream. Or cry. Or both. Either way, I'm just not ready.

My greatest strength and my greatest weakness is my fierce independence. I take care of myself. That's what I do. But sometimes I don't know when it's time to ask someone to take care of me. "Help" does not seem to be in my vocabulary. But I'm not as strong as I make myself look. I've got issues too. :)

The other concern is that going to her feels a bit too close for comfort. If I'm going to counseling, I'd rather go to someone I don't know. I'd rather go to address all of my "things" (as Meredith Grey would put it). I don't think I could talk to her about the many layers that make up my grief, or about the many things I am grieving. I'm all for going to someone I know OF, whose reputation tells me that I will be helped, but I just don't know. I'd rather start fresh. There is a lot of ground to cover.

Haunting Memories

2007-10-31T10:46:00.000-07:00

Last year at this time I was posting cute pictures of dogs in Halloween costumes. This year I am dreading the obligatory Halloween festivities. This was one of Dad's favorite holidays. He and my brother spent hours building a haunted house in our garage and scaring the little darlings that trekked down the road. Our street was always closed to traffic because of so many children so it was like one big block party. My parents made fish stew and hot captains and all of our friends came over.

This year the friends are still coming. We're making fish stew (and my favorite chili recipe) and Dad's covenant group is building the haunted house for us. For the most part it will be just like last year. With one major and heartbreaking exception.

Happy Freaking Birthday

2007-10-30T12:07:00.000-07:00

Today I am 27. And since I'm home I got a little dose of our traditional family strings/present scavenger hunt. Under normal circumstances I'd be bouncing off the walls on my birthday eve, unable to sleep and up at the crack of dawn. I LOVE birthdays, especially birthday strings! But this morning I must have pressed snooze five times before I dragged my ass out of bed and got dressed.

Mom and sister gave a valiant effort at making my birthday morning as enjoyable as possible under the circumstances. But I just didn't feel like celebrating. And still don't.

My friend Akin and I joked around about skipping our birthdays this year. I'm beginning to think perhaps that's not such a bad idea. Maybe for my 28th I'll be in a more celebratory mood.

My dad really made holidays and birthdays special. It just adds to my sadness to know that that extra dose of joy won't be there anymore...

Happy 57th Birthday Daddy!

2007-10-16T16:36:00.000-07:00

You should be here. We can't make your famous guacamole without you!

Loving and missing you SO MUCH!

Hecticity

2007-10-14T23:04:00.001-07:00

Is that even a word? Well I'm making it one ... if normal no longer applies, reality has still reared its ugly head with commitments every single night this week, except maybe Friday? I can't remember. It's also Fall Break, which entails me reading and taking notes on the five chapters I'm behind, and starting my term paper. Due November 1st. Exam is October 25th. University of Portland application due November 2nd. Sh*t.

And Tuesday is Daddy's birthday.

This could be my breakdown week...

Quiet

2007-10-13T17:22:00.000-07:00

I used to welcome silence - there was always a certain peacefulness to sitting quietly and letting your mind be still. But lately I avoid it at all costs. If I'm in my room, music is playing. If I'm around others, I'm talking. I have a hard time staying home in the quiet. No longer is my mind still...it won't shut up. When the quiet comes, the grief comes and I'm afraid it will take over completely and I will shut down.

Perhaps I'm supposed to shut down. Perhaps I'm supposed to let the grief take over. How do I do this?

Big Puppy Dog

2007-10-07T13:10:00.000-07:00

Dad's burial and memorial service were yesterday and he was there, no doubt about it. We had him cremated as requested and laid him to rest with his own father who passed away 10 years ago. A small graveside tribute with just family...it was beautiful.

Then we went on to the church for an incredibly moving memorial - over 500 people in attendance, all of whom had been touched by my father. Patients, friends, colleagues and family all brought together by this incredible man. His college friend eulogized him as a great big puppy dog full of love, and that pretty much sums up Dad to a tee. The three of us and mom all had a chance to say a few words and I was just so moved by the love in that sanctuary.

Aunt and uncle hosted a beautiful reception afterwards and everyone seemed to come. I had thought I would feel anti-social and stay away, but I actually ended up enjoying myself. We all swapped "Dougie stories" and looked at pictures and drank wine and ate good food, just as Dad would have wanted. We joked that were he there, he would have found the nearest couch and taken a nap, even in the middle of the party.

So today we start figuring out how to make life go on. This is going to be the hardest part. "Normal" no longer applies.

Crappy Day

2007-10-05T19:03:00.000-07:00

Not 'cuz anything particularly bad happened ... just 'cuz it was crappy. Tomorrow is the burial, followed by a memorial service, then a reception at our aunt and uncle's house. I'm exhausted just thinking about it. It will be really nice to focus on my dad but really hard to go through hours and hours of well-wishes and hugs from people I barely know. Everyone means well I'm sure but it's so hard to be reminded by the look in people's eyes that all of the sudden my father is gone and they're so sorry.

'Don't mean to sound ungrateful, it just doesn't feel good.

Not to mention today is the 1-year anniversary of my beautiful friend Lisa's untimely death. This tragedy seemed to the first of a series of unfortunate events over the past year.

I'm done with unfortunate events. Will someone please inform God?

Love Pouring In

2007-09-28T16:38:00.000-07:00

It's amazing how much one person can touch the world. I've seen over the past few days just how true that is for my Dad. How many times have I been told what a great man he was! And he truly was...a great husband, father, doctor, coach, volunteer, friend, everything!

Our old high school posted a very nice bulletin about Dad's passing:

I have some very sad news to pass on to the Harbor High community.

Yesterday afternoon, D.H. passed away after a brave battle with lung cancer. D. is survived by his wife and 3 children who all attended Harbor High. Our thoughts and prayers are with the [family] at this difficult time.

In a community of supportive parents, D. stood out as one of the best. He possessed a love for this school that was second to none. His kindness, wisdom, integrity and unassuming manner were traits that many of us were blessed by. He gave his time selflessly to serve the staff and students of Harbor High for many years, contributing to several campus programs.

D. was one of the founders of the Navigators, which later branched into what is now our Foundation. He served as a mentor for the Da Vinci Academy and played key roles on several school committees. As an example of D.'s caring nature, after the untimely death of a Costa Mesa High School football player a few years ago, D. launched a head injury monitoring program for our athletes to help prevent a similar occurrence at Harbor High.

Most important to me personally, D. was a mentor and a friend. He offered me his support and counsel during difficult times and I could always rely on him for sage advice on a number of different issues. He consistently maintained a positive perspective on life and just being in his presence made me feel that everything was going to be okay. D. had that same effect on countless people and we were all blessed by his beautiful spirit.

Principal

Rest My Sweet Daddy

2007-09-26T16:19:00.001-07:00

Hell on earth. That is how I would describe the first 10 hours of today. Dad woke up at 3 a.m. gasping for breath...he would finally relax only to convulse in panic when his breath caught in his throat the next time. The fluid in his lungs was beginning to overcome him and he was so scared to let go.

Thanks to our wonderful home health nurse, however, we found a good balance of pain and anti-anxiety meds to allow him some rest. For two hours he slept peacefully and we all breathed a little more easily. Before we knew it, he had quietly slipped away.

What a tragedy to lose such a man as my father - the "Daddy of the Universe". What an injustice for him to suffer the way he did. But he is finally at peace and we can be comforted that his final breaths were not in pain or fear. He has family that went before him to greet him in heaven - he was never alone on this side of the journey and he'll never be alone there either.

I love you Daddy, all the way from the garage door to the living room wall!

All my love,
Teeny

Keeping Watch

2007-09-24T22:01:00.000-07:00

Daddy is still with us but has slipped into a coma. We have been keeping vigil since last night and have all been able to steal moments with him alone and together. I finally let it all out earlier tonight, which felt really good, but now I can't seem to make the tears stop. I've tried to be the knowledgeable big sister/"nurse in training" but finally I just let myself be the grieving daughter.

There are so many things I love about my Dad that I'm overwhelmed to list them all. But here are a few just to give y'all an idea of how blessed we have been to have this amazing man as our father:
-His love for spontaneously dancing, whether it's the swing or the twist
-His communication skills - he always knows what to say and when to just give a big "Daddy hug"
-The traditions he created and carried on from his own childhood - every year we have "birthday strings" scavenger hunts
-His strength as our "rock" in the midst of a lot of family trials over the past 30 years
-His utter devotion to Mom, his soul mate, to the point of being a romantic sap we all teased but secretly wished our spouses would be like someday

I could go on. A lot of people are referring to him in the past tense but I refuse to go there yet. He's still here...really he always will be....

Too Fast

2007-09-23T18:45:00.000-07:00

Dad's CEA markers shot up from 74 to 123 in a week. Yesterday his home health nurse said we should all start preparing ourselves. Last night he was agitated and in a lot of pain, despite increasing the dose on his morphine drip and pushing the button as often as we were allowed. Then he fell down while walking to his bed and was in so much pain we couldn't move him - he and Mom slept on the floor and the Fire Department very kindly came this morning to move him back into bed.

They're now saying it will be a matter of days, if not hours. We are discontinuing his TPN after today, as well as the Tarceva and Avastin, and making a rapid transition to hospice.

This is happening way too fast. I alternate between feeling completely numb and completely out of control. Mostly I just can't fathom the thought of waking up without him here.

Why Obama?

2007-09-18T09:19:00.000-07:00

A small but welcome distraction from the day-to-day trials and tribulations of this cancer journey has been my involvement with Barack Obama's presidential campaign. And now I have a victory of my own to share.

Last spring I became involved with an organization called "Barack the Youth Vote". Joe Vogel, BTYV's founder and director, decided to self-publish a book featuring 25 essays by youth and young adults about why Obama was their choice for President. I submitted an essay and was selected to be part of the book.

The Obama Movement is now available on Amazon.com. It will soon be available through other online retailers. Availability in stores depends on online sales, so if you are intrigued, this it the time to make that purchase. :)

Here is a description of the book from the editor's website:

Why Barack Obama?

This was the question posed to students and young professionals across the country in the wake of the senator’s historic announcement for president in Springfield, Illinois. The responses came pouring in from all corners of America.

The Obama Movement is a collection of these fascinating and diverse responses.

Not since the Kennedys in the 1960s has a politician so energized the youth of America. The key distinction is that today's generation is mobilizing through technology and online networking in ways unimaginable to previous campaigns. Hundreds of thousands of previously turned off young people have tuned into the vision of the former community organizer from South Chicago. Online groups have swelled into the hundreds of thousands, creative ads by supporters have dominated YouTube, and interest has translated into record-setting donations and massive turnouts in Iowa and New Hampshire, Nevada and Texas.

The Obama Movement contains the personal stories of young people in the trenches of one of the most exciting and historically significant elections in American history—and reveals why they are determined to make their voices count in 2008.

Sudden

2007-09-09T16:24:00.000-07:00

A few weeks ago my Dad and I were sitting in the infusion center on a hydration visit and a woman was set up next to him for a platelet transfusion. We got to chatting and found out her name was Cheryl and she too had a team for the Relay for Life last May. She was one of the most friendly, positive people I've ever met. She and all three of her sisters had faced cancer...and two had succumbed, one to colon cancer at a young age and one to breast cancer that came back all over her body on her 5-year remission anniversary. Her other sister was in remission after battling breast cancer. And Cheryl had stage 4 melanoma in practically all of her major organs, though you would never have guessed how sick she was from her spunk. She was planning to get into a clinical trial and was coming up on the year anniversary of her diagnosis. She and Dad hit it off and decided that next year they would co-chair the Survivors' Committee at the Relay.

Then last weekend we found a "mobile notary" in the neighborhood to come sign my car title; we got to talking and discovered that this woman is Cheryl's best friend! We were so excited about the discovery, and the notary gave Dad Cheryl's phone number and said when he was feeling better, he and Cheryl could take walks together. What a gift to encounter this beautiful soul yet again, albeit indirectly.

But alas, cancer is a bastard of a disease. Dad and I opened the paper Thursday morning to find Cheryl's picture staring out at us from the obituary section. How it happened we'll never know. We know she'd just had surgery, so something may have gone awry. But this is the first one of Dad's "cancer peers" to appear in the obituaries since this journey started. And it shook us all up. Cheryl seemed a lot less sick than my dad, and yet he's still here and actually hanging in there quite well.

Cancer doesn't play favorites, nor does it conform to expectations. It is not part of God's plan. It does not "happen for a reason."

And it sure as hell isn't fair.

10 Days

2007-09-02T23:33:00.000-07:00

On Day 11, Dad got his walking papers from the big house. Thank God - we were all getting a taste of cabin fever and WE weren't even stuck there the way he was.

This time, though, things are going to be different. Through some brilliant investigative work, my mom discovered a home health option that is a continuum of care, from palliative care to hospice and end-of-life issues (and gee, it only took three trips to the hospital for someone to step up and tell my mom what resources were available). So Dad can come home under the care of an RN, a social worker, a medical director who specializes in pain control and home health aides to help with hygiene. He can continue his second line of chemotherapy in a last ditch effort to beat this cancer and still be as comfortable as possible. He is hooked to a morphine pump that provides a basal rate of pain meds every hour, with the option of pushing a button for an extra fix every 15 minutes. His AMAZING nurse Pam helped us get access to TPN - total parenteral nutrition, which provides via IV the carbs, fat and protein he needs to function since his appetite has been nonexistent (down 50 pounds since he started this journey).

Not only does Dad come home under such great care, but I am getting a hands-on education in med administration, saline infusions and TPN set-up. Pam coached us in preparing his TPN bag and programming his pump so that we can do it ourselves each morning, and I am learning so much about home health care and loving every minute of it. Putting off nursing school for a year doesn't mean I can't continue my education.

When I think of this as a learning experience, it's much easier to cope. But than again, I know it's different because it's my Dad. No possibility of detachment as his health continues to slip. This is the hardest nursing assignment I will ever face.

Let's Blow This Popsicle Stand

2007-08-23T21:00:00.000-07:00

Day #4 of Trip #3 to the hospital. Yesterday was terrible - so much pain and agitation that they didn't make any movement toward getting him adjusted to the pump he would be on at discharge. First he actually has to be stabilized. It was a really emotional day for everyone.

Today was better. When I visited on my lunch hour we actually got to take a walk around the nurses station and he was much more lucid. But I can see in his face that the pain is still there. Bone mets are real bitches.

Floor 8 West

2007-08-20T20:52:00.000-07:00

And it's back to the hospital we go....for the third time in three weeks. I mean, really? Seriously????

At least this time the order has already been made that when Dad goes home, he takes a pump with him - then whenever he is in pain, he pushes a button. Doc seems to think that with the pain under control, the nausea will subside. We're taking it one day at a time...

My two-year wedding anniversary is tomorrow. Ahhh, the romance.

Viper

2007-08-19T20:22:00.000-07:00

True confession...I have never been to Magic Mountain. As a southern Californian, I hear that this is apparently quite a travesty. My high school senior class went on "ditch day" but I missed the bus...kind of on purpose. But all of those death-defying drops and swirls and twirls just held no appeal for me. I have no desire to be suspended upside down in the name of fun.

Which brings me to today. There is this ride at Magic Mtn. called Viper that apparently features the world's tallest vertical loop, two additional loops, a corkscrew and a double barrel bommerang turn. It is not for the faint of heart. But I'm beginning to think I could handle it after the past three weeks. Viper can't hold a candle to this new thrill ride known as lung cancer.

Less than 48 hours after being discharged from the hospital, the nausea and pain are back. A trip to the day hospital got things under control for the time being, but my dad's stomach is so weak and he has no appetite. He's lost 6 more pounds. He hallucinates like I've never seen and his body is so agitated that he twitches while he sleeps. I think this week there will be no choice but to hook him up to a PCA - a personal control assistant (?) that will allow him to push a button whenever he is in pain. Oral meds just aren't doing it. You'd think the doctors would have figured it out by now, but every time he goes in the hospital he starts feeling better and they send him home. Um, perhaps the reason he feels better is because he has access to IV pain control?!?!?!?

The night he got home from the hospital, Dad was so excited that he'd soon be back on the upswing and things would be getting back to normal. But I think the definition of normal has changed. The "ups" are small victories such as him having one lucid hour in an entire day and the "downs" are beginning to be far too frequent.

So bring it on, Viper. You ain't nuthin'.

Home Sweet Home

2007-08-18T09:48:00.000-07:00

Dad was (finally) discharged from the hospital yesterday. They took him off IV pain control Thursday night to see how he responded to oral meds and apparently he did okay. Although his new doctor, a pain specialist, warned that the pain would increase once he got home because he'd be moving around more.

There is an elaborate list posted in the kitchen with all of his meds. We're keeping CVS in business.

IV Drugs ... A Cancer Patient's Best Friend

2007-08-14T18:42:00.000-07:00

Well back to the hospital we go. Despite a completely vacant stomach, Dad's nausea revved back up last night so he was readmitted this morning. I went by on my lunch break and he was extremely groggy so I'm headed back there now to spend the evening chillin' with Dad.

Argh...

It Hurts

2007-08-13T22:55:00.000-07:00

Imagine the worst pain possible. So bad you can barely move, much less breathe. Every tiny motion sends waves of indescribable knife shards into your body.

Now multiply that pain by about 1,000.

That was Dad's pain today.

He woke up this morning with a shoulder that felt like it was about to split in half, and nausea to boot. Despite a trip to the day hospital for some pretty heavy drugs, he continued to rate his pain at an 8 on a scale of 10 for the rest of the day. He finally got some rest about 6:00 this evening, but it didn't last long. A good friend of ours who happens to be an orthopedic surgeon says that the tumor in his shoulder has probably grown to the point that it split open the bone where it is growing. Just the thought makes my own body hurt.

Not to mention my heart. The worst part of all of this (for me) is watching the man who has always been my rock, physically, emotionally, practically, be so vulnerable that he can barely lift his arm. Seeing him shrink into his pillows and be unable to find a position that doesn't hurt. Seeing him keep his eyes wrenched shut to avoid any light that might sneak in and overwhelm his dizzy head. I had to leave the room for a few minutes and let the tears fall this afternoon. They just wouldn't stay put.

A very close friend of my father's (and a palliative care specialist) uttered the dreaded word to my mother: hospice. He also mentioned that the oncologists' estimate of 3-6 months is "optimistic." The plan is still to try round 2 of fighting this sucker but the fact that end-of-life issues are at the front of peoples' minds is not reassuring.

This is moving way too fast. I'm not ready for this at all.

Worst Fears Put To Rest

2007-08-09T23:28:00.000-07:00

Dad's nausea and pain continued to worsen yesterday and last night. Despite a completely empty stomach, he hasn't been able to stop throwing up and when he tried even a couple bites of an apple, he couldn't keep it down. His scheduled appointment with the oncologist this morning resulted in an admit to the hospital to get some of these symptoms under control. The doctor was also very worried that the increasing nausea was a sign that the cancer had spread to his brain so they did an MRI - it was CLEAR! Dad wanted to jump up and kiss the doctor when we found out! As a neuropsychologist, his worst fears are brain mets.

Whatever they gave him at the hospital seemed to work wonders. Dad wolfed down his dinner and has kept it down and is already looking forward to his lunch tomorrow! It will be a tricky day because they now have to wean him off of the heavy meds and see how he does. Good news is, his old buddy from college is visiting for the weekend and just happens to be a physician who specializes in palliative care and pain management.

So a roller coaster day to say the least but we can all go to bed with smiles on our faces tonight.

Sabbatical

2007-08-08T14:54:00.001-07:00

That word has a bittersweet meaning these days. Dad has decided to retire and go on disability, and go on sabbatical from his teaching jobs. He was waiting on this week's scan results to make a final choice about work and alas, the scan results were not promising.

The gist of it is that the cancer has progressed. Despite six rounds of extremely aggressive chemo and 2 weeks of radiation, those stubborn little bone mets are putting up a good fight. In Dad's terms, at the end of the first period: Cancer 1, Team Dougie 0. The primary tumor in his lung has shrunk but not enough and there are a number of new spots throughout his bones, plus a new soft tissue spot in his lower back and growth in the soft tissue spot in his neck.

We all had a feeling the news would not be good. Dad has experienced increased breakthrough pain and nausea and has spent four out of the last five days receiving hydration, IV pain meds and anti-nausea drugs at the day hospital. We knew this was coming, but it doesn't make it any easier to swallow.

So it's on to Plan B. There are a couple of different "second-line" options that are being considered, and Dad has appointments with lung specialists at three major university hospitals in the next three weeks. Two of his appointments are with doctors who conduct many of the area's clinical trials, so it is good to establish relationships with these docs in order to have a trial as an option. Really though, we're talking in terms of buying time, in months rather than years.

I'm glad that I came home.

Home Sweet Home

2007-08-04T22:36:00.000-07:00

So we made it. 3,400 miles later my sister and I are safe and sound in good ol' Newport Beach. We actually got home last weekend, but were back for less than 12 hours before proceeding to board the Jet Cat Express, bound for Santa Catalina Island.

Catalina is a magical little place where we practically grew up - my dad and his brothers co-owned a condo with their father for years and years and we spent about half of every summer and several weekends over in the seaside town of Avalon.

It was the type of place where we'd spend the morning at the penny arcade downtown, stop at Rosie's for fish and chips, then Big Olaf's for ice cream, and then hike back up the hill to Fairview Terrace and turn into water babies for the duration of the afternoon. There are a lot of really special memories on that island, so we figured it was only fitting we take a family vacation there. Several longtime friends came over for a few days here and there, so it was quite an adventure! Dad didn't really have the energy to fill the days like we used to, but it was still special for everyone.

While we were there, Dad reached the end of round 6 of his chemo. Scans are next week to determine how effective the treatment was. He's felt progressively worse over this week and some of the mets in his bones have really been bothering him, especially in his hip and shoulder. We're hoping that's a sign that the chemo is working and the pain is the mets losing the battle. But honestly I don't know.

There are still a few treatment options, whether or not the chemo was effective. But I have a sinking suspicion that there are so many "hot spots" throughout his body, it would be hard for ANYTHING to wipe them out completely. Let's just hope we shrink those little bastards enough to relieve his symptoms and give him lots of quality time!

It's strange to picture your future without someone who has been so integral to your life, especially a parent. Dad and I have grown closer as I have grown up, and I'm not ready to raise the white flag by any means. But it scares me to think in terms of my children not knowing their grandfather, my siblings not having Dad there on their own wedding day....

What an empty feeling.

And We're Off!

2007-07-23T07:23:00.000-07:00

Well folks, the next chapter of this adventure begins in about an hour. My sister arrived from D.C. yesterday afternoon and we picked up our rental car - a Chevy Trailblazer with a navigation system. Quite a sweet ride! 'Loaded up the back yesterday afternoon (thank God for unseasonally mild weather). It is PACKED!!! No room for nuthin' and I ended up having to leave some of my favorite pictures behind with Mr. D for the time being.

Mr. D found a room to rent with a very nice couple just 10 minutes from our house. We are putting the house up for rent to save money. Hopefully the market will get better and we can try to sell next summer.

I'll try to blog from the road but I don't know what internet access will be like.

Here's the route in case we disappear off the radar:
Day 1: Durham to New Albany, IN (just NW of Louisville, KY)
Day 2: New Albany to Lincoln, NE
Day 3: Lincoln to Evanston, WY (just east of the WY-UT border)
Day 4: Evanston to Reno, NV ... stay with our wonderful cousin Jenny
Day 5: Reno to San Francisco/Berkeley ... apartment hunting with my sister to find her a place for grad school adventures
Day 6: Bay Area to HOME (Newport Beach, CA)
Day 7: Home to Santa Catalina Island ... 26 miles across the sea for a much needed vacay in our family's little paradise - the seaside town of Avalon

Lots of pics to come!

Time to road trip...

The 3,000-Mile Budget

2007-07-15T16:39:00.000-07:00

Pop quiz, hotshot....

You're quitting your job in one week's time, which means you will not get a full paycheck on July 31st (which must be mailed to you since you'll already be gone). Your bills remain the same through mid-August while you make the transition to move. You are hoping and praying that unused vacation days will help cover those expenses and crossing your fingers that your checks for your other part-time job will get to the correct address in California.

You won't start work again until mid-August, which means your first paycheck will not be full either ... your next "real" pay will be September 5th, the final day to pay your mortgage.

You also have some atypical expenses in the next week. You owe the property management company helping you rent your home, plus your husband must pay a security deposit, and July/August rent.

What do you do? WHAT DO YOU DO?????