I would like to tell cancer to stick it.
I would like to kick those cells tails and tell them who is boss.
I would like for it to just all go away.
I would like for a miracle.
My cousin is on the cusp of relapsing and they are on their way back to St. Jude's for one last shot at telling cancer who is boss.
Let's hope and let's pray that this time it gets the memo-- Cancer is not a welcome addition to the party, please pack your bags and go somewhere else.
Stick it, Cancer.
Thursday, September 16, 2010
I have walked to the Lincoln Memorial.
I have walked to Eastern Market.
I have walked to Maryland.
I have walked to the post office, to church, to breakfast at Pete’s Diner, and supper at Sticky Rice.
I have walked everywhere I can think to walk.
And I love it.
I have blisters and take a lot of Advil, but I love it.
My journey of 1,000 miles if steadily clicking down. Since inception about a month ago, my feet have cleared over 150 miles. That's farther than driving from Augusta to Atlanta... or Washington DC to Richmond VA. It's like landing in Miami and deciding to walk to Key West. Some days, you would probably get there faster by foot instead of in your car...
While it averages to about 5 miles a day, I am only walking 5 days a week, sometimes 6. For instance, yesterday when I walked to Maryland from Virginia, it was only 7 miles. But that evening I walked to a friends birthday celebration and was an additional 3 miles round trip. Today, another MOM and I convened our strollers on the mall and knocked out 6 miles. Tomorrow I have aspirations of doing 6 miles in the morning and an additional 3 in the evening... we shall see though, Husband will be post-call tomorrow and that means that the Cagles girls need to get out of the house so he can catch some very much needed zzzz’s. Either way, 1,000 miles you are a challenge, but I am enjoying your company.
We will have to find a walking partner when we head home next week for a week, as I do not want to lose my momentum! Faris, are you up for it?
Friday, September 10, 2010
It is almost 11 and I am beyond tired. However, even after a full day of Mom duties and Work duties and Husband being on call duties, I just was not ready to let the day end. So, it is almost 11 and am about to crawl in bed. But first, but first I had to check on my sweet sleeping babe because I promised Husband via a 30 second phone call that she was sleeping.
Sneaking into her room, there she was.... in her crib. Sound asleep. Curled up, holding her white open knit blanket. And I stared, knowing just how absolutely blessed and lucky I am to have this perfect life in my care. A smile crossed my lips and a touch to her cheek sent me out the door, quietly closing it behind me.
I have a sweet babe that is loved more than words can explain. What a lucky, lucky fool I am to be a mother.
Friday, September 3, 2010
They say that babies are a blessing.
They say a lot of things.
It was probably asking too much of Eileen on Saturday, but I wanted to get out of the tiny apartment and made an impulsive decision to swing by the National Archives. Eileen had had a nap, Eileen had eaten, Eileen had even been drinking water pretty steadily and did not have a dirty diaper.
There would have been no reason for Eileen to cry, right?
Let me paint the picture for you...
I have pigtails in my hair... don't laugh, it's all I could do with it before I get it chopped. I am wearing exercise clothes and have my big-ass jogging stroller. We roll through the archives at a pretty good clip and E is actually having a great time looking around, having space, and not being in 99 degree weather. At some point, I thought it wise to remove her from the stroller and let her push it. No big deal, right? It'll wear her out faster, right? Totally. So, the clip slows down and we are still pushing forward. The archives wind around and around and around and culminate in the rotunda where you have to wind around and around to get out.
The rotunda, oh the rotunda! Not to be missed... We saw the Magna Carta and apparently, that's where the tip started to fall. But, foolish me did not notice as the guards were being so helpful showing me how to get up to the main rotunda with my stroller.
The lights in the main rotunda were dimmed. People spoke in hushed voices. It was a quiet, reverent place- as it should be in the presence of these original documents that made us a country. [Sidenote: I saw the Declaration of Independence and Bill of Rights... when I saw the Bill of Rights, I **literally** said **out loud** , "OHHHHHH, THE BILL OF RIGHTS! HOW COOL!?" Yes, that is me.
So, lights dimmed, hushed voices, everyone walking in a circle around the walls of the round room looking at the old, old documents. Picture perfect Saturday. Husband was on call, and I had forgotten that I was wearing pigtails in a museum... Eileen was precious crawling around the floor and making friends left and right, until she decided that she didn't want to make anymore friends.
She started screaming. Not that quiet whimper, but that screaming where you tear off into their room to see how much blood is on the floor. In the rotunda, the round room with perfect acoustics of the baby reverberating off all the walls. I could not hold her as she almost squirmed out of my arms. More fearful of dropping my precious babe on the hard marble floor than the ensuing scene.... Eileen was carefully placed on the floor, where she threw her fit of all fits in the perfectly quiet room. And I, in my pigtails, standing over her, waiting.... praying for it to end.
When she finally cooled off enough for me to pick her up (more screams), we made it out of the room into another echo-y/marble room with more security guards. This room apparently pitches into the rotunda, because it was still bad. Real bad.
By the time we wound our way out of there, she'd cooled off and wondered what all the fuss was about.