I know people want an update on how Adam is doing…we would like one too. Monday, I took him to the hospital for all the pretesting needed for his surgery. We learned a few things: 1. His file does not say he has cancer, or no one read that part – we had to tell each nurse, tech, and intake staffer. They were all wonderful as they used him as a pin cushion. 2. Ultrasounds are much less fun, and infinitely harder to interpret, when they are not done for the purposes of looking at a baby. Adam told his brother that “it’s a boy…or a liver…or something.” It turns out that the ultrasound is mostly for the surgeon’s information – he wants to know if he needs to biopsy anything during surgery. Either way, we don’t have any new info, and the ultrasound only shows the location of the cyst (which is very likely nothing to worry about), not details about it. Annoying, but there you have it. 3. Adam is a zombie. Seriously – he had no readings when they hooked him to the EKG machine and he started saying “don’t be creepy, don’t be creepy” and laughing like a lunatic. He didn’t try to eat anyone’s brains, so he isn’t too far gone yet. When he sang (the theme from Sesame Street, for those who are interested in little details), the machine registered something – perhaps a complaint? applause? We’re not sure. Finally, it started working, the tech came in and removed four tubes of blood while laughing at the machine, and Adam finally got to drink something – Mt. Dew. He was ecstatic. The hospital gives out Mt. Dew! This is great! So, we have the special antibacterial soap to reduce the chance of infection, he doesn’t have to shave his beard – though the anesthesiologist may do so on Friday, and we have the other prep medicines ready for him. We are now just waiting. He feels pretty good – other than the stress and worry that pop up unexpectedly. So that is the medical report.
In other news of life, we have family scheduled to visit over the next few weeks – our kids can’t decide if they’re more excited about grandparent visits or more worried about Daddy. They are not doing horribly, but they are having a tough time. Our 10-year-old isn’t the easiest at the best of times, and last night, after repeatedly getting in trouble for little things, he broke down and cried out that he just wants “a good life! I don’t want you to have cancer!” Us either, love, us either. Adam talked to him, held him, and calmed him. Our 8-year-old has been alternately clingy and cranky. She got tearful several times over the last few days. I wish we had some solid promise to give them, but they have to endure this waiting with us. Thankfully, Adam feels good enough to play with them and be silly, so they’ve had lots of normal moments.
So, we’re doing well, all things considered. We are coping by blaming cancer for all things we dislike (lost tools, bad weather, windshield wipers than disintegrate before our eyes during a heavy rain), and the humor – inappropriate though it may seem at some moments – has been cathartic. We also continue to hear from dear friends and family from all over the country and from all parts of our life. Knowing that we stay important to each other despite the passing years and the distance between us has been more encouraging than I can say. Sometimes, there are no words – only tears…or laughter.