This Star Won't Go Out

So, I’m embarrassed to say this mainly because I know one day Dad and Mom will be reading it, but too bad. You know how my life is full of problems teens shouldn’t have to deal with? AKA cancer? Well, when I get to do “normal” things, like watch a movie with my sisters, get out of the house, or just get downstairs, I tend to feel better. Tired, but good.

And lately, I’ve been thinking about boys, uh-oh. It was weird, cause I had this dream where I kissed a boy (I don’t know who), and then kissed him again, and that’s why I have been thinking about boys. So yeah, lately I’ve really, really thought that if and when I die, I’d like to have one more normal teen thing, which is kissing a boy. =) And I feel stupid thinking that because in the midst of wanting to spend more time with my family and becoming closer to God, there’s this huge want for a first kiss. So hit your knee and call me Sally I friggen want a kiss. It’s something normal I may never have, another thing I’ll miss out on. Sigh.

I can’t think of what else to write. I’m afraid to write random thoughts cause this book is gorgeous and I don’t want to ruin it..! :D

Oh! CHRISTMAS! SO EXCITED FOR IT! I’ve kind of thought of what I’d like. S’quite a bit of stuff, shall I include it? Yeah? Okay. ;)

List: 1. Matt and Kim CD (self titled)

Phantom Planet CD 2. Makeup 3. SOCKS!

4. Matt and Kim Grand CD (not out til January . . . )

5. gift cards/money =)

6. Regina Spektor CD





Sunday, December 7, 2008 8:07 AM, EST -Lori


It’s early Sunday morning, and a light snow is falling! Our first this season. The boys couldn’t sleep in, of course, and are already out playing in the backyard, with my frequent “Shhh!” so they won’t wake up the neighborhood! I’m on Craigslist trying to find a futon since Abby will be with us over the Christmas vacation.


Esther had a good visit at the Jimmy Fund Clinic Thursday. Her nurse practitioner came back in with an excited, “Whose blood is this? It’s perfect!” We’re so glad her body is showing good signs of underlying strength. She came home with two new antibiotics for blood in her urine, and a lymphnode in her neck that seems infected—better than it being another tumor, though! Also she has a medication to take every eight hours that will coat her esophagus. Last night she was already able to eat more than she has in a week or two, since the pain had gone down a lot. Last night Wayne was plotting out all of her meds on an hourly chart—complicated, since some require an empty stomach, some you can’t eat after for 2 hours, others must be taken alone . . . it requires a degree to figure it out!

Later today Wayne is going to pick up a cut tree—no tree farm this year. Then we’ll bring Esther downstairs to decorate tonight. A fire in our beautiful old brick fireplace, and some freshly-baked pumpkin muffins with cider are on the agenda!



Daily Booth photo,

QUINCY, MASSACHUSETTS, 2008





December 8, 2008


You know what’s kind of weird?

Every night, almost, while I’m going to bed, I talk kind of to myself and kind of to God (my form of prayer, I suppose). And while I’m talking to God, it’s no doubt I talk of my pains and also of cancer. That is not the weird part. The odd part is that I usually end up having tears roll down my cheeks, but I’m not sure why since daily I’m not (too) sad about cancer. Maybe it lets off some of my emotions that normal* people direct in everyday social situations . . . I have no idea.

So to change the subject, lately I’ve been thinking about my identity. Why, you ask? (Maybe you’re not asking, but you’re my journal, so you’re gonna ask!) Well I drew this very not-so-good self-portrait of myself the other day, and Abe saw it. He was like, “You drew that? Without any picture?” and was slightly in awe, which was cool that at least Abe was . . . in awe. And then he said, “but where’s your nose thing?” pointing to my nasal cannula. To me it seemed more insightful than something that bothered me. However Mom heard, and Dad too, and later Dad said Mom cried.

It is kind of sad I guess, to see my energetically, enthusiastic 5-year-old brother not remember the days when he was 2/3, and I would take him to play on the bars in Albertville, or he would watch me do flips all around the bar. But I kind of think of Abe as not remembering, but everyone else as. But now I’m realizing that it has been over 2 years, and memories began to fade, and are replaced with making a “HUGE” trip out to dinner, or something. I hope not all the memories are bad. :\

Another thing Abraham said which was funny and not sad (woo!), and also quite original, was, while we were decorating the tree, Abe said, “Oh! Just one more!” as he tried to pick up Mom. It was funny funny.