This Star Won't Go Out

Christmas memories made together . . . That’s what will hang with us as we recollect these past weeks in future years. Nothing dramatic, no bells and whistles—just living life. We enjoyed a “quiet” Christmas with our five children. Can you believe that Abe and Graham opened their stockings when they got up at 7:15, then waited until 10 to open gifts, the earliest Esther was willing to agree to?! (So what if a few of the gifts labeled “Graham” had slightly loosened wrappings from hard-to-contain peeking!) And did you know, as Abe informed us during the reading of the Christmas story, that the angels surrounding the shepherds in the fields sang “Jingle Bells!”? Perhaps they did . . . Later, we enjoyed a relatively calm meal of baked ham, mashed potatoes, stuffing, green bean casserole, and Dream Pie for dessert. The next day Uncle Jerry and cousin Michaela arrived from California, which demanded a visit to the Aquarium, a trip (including Esther) to see the Christmas lights at LaSalatte shrine, and a night out at the movies!


A HUGE thank you to the many who blessed us and Esther this Christmas with cards, prayers, and gifts. While you are not named here, you have warmed our hearts and helped to lighten our load. May God abundantly meet your needs as well!


Esther had a long day yesterday at Children’s Hospital and the Jimmy Fund, with full PET and CT scans and blood work. We left home at 7:15 a.m. and returned at 6:00 p.m! On Wednesday Wayne and I go in for a full team conference to hear her status, with any improvements or concerns, especially regarding any changes since she began taking the experimental chemotherapy drug. We are nervous . . . Keep us in prayer, and watch for an update.





Thursday, January 1, 2009 7:17 PM, EST


Wayne and I braved the snow storm yesterday to attend the meeting with Esther’s primary doctor at the Jimmy Fund Clinic at Children’s Hospital yesterday. The short of it is that after reviewing her PET and CT scans from Monday, scans reveal that in the two months since starting the experimental chemo the tumors in Esther’s lungs have reduced slightly. At the least they were hoping to see NO growth—shrinking is even better news (the only thing better, said her doctor, would be a miracle!). So she will continue to take the chemo for now, working to keep side effects contained with various medications as we are doing currently.


They were clear with us that studies have found this chemo to work for an average of 8 months before ceasing to continue helping. When the effectiveness wears off, then they would expect the growth of the tumors to begin again. We compare it to a war in which we’re outnumbered, yet we are gaining in the battle for the moment. We will take the weeks and months reprieve with thankfulness . . . !


Happy New Year, everyone!





CRAZYCRAYON BLOG


Friday, January 2, 2009


Emphasis on one


If one person sits down at their computer one day and types one word, does that affect the future? If that one person didn’t type that one word, would the future’s history be changed? Does their one word even mean anything? Does my one (times a lot) word mean anything? Does that one person’s one word even get read—once? If I wasn’t sitting here writing my words, would my future be different?


No doubt it would. I’m sure I’d get much more accomplished in life if I weren’t so caught up in thinking about these things and then writing them down . . .


I think in total I’ve had somewhere between 10–15 blogs. Maybe that’s not a lot? I don’t know what the number of blogs a person has usually is. I feel like 10–15 blogs is kind of a lot. I mean come on, why would I write so much down and then decide I don’t like my blog, just to start a new one, after deleting the other blog, some months later? Really.


Do my words make sense? Whenever I write something and then reread it, it makes little sense. Maybe I’m just too smart for my own brain. (;



“Too smart for my own brain.”

QUINCY, MASSACHUSETTS, 2009





CRAZYCRAYON BLOG


Sunday, January 4, 2009


some content deleted


Oh, my, gosh. Can I tell you about the worst day ever?


It’s pretty bad. Here goes: 2am: I go to sleep.


7am: “Esther wake up I overslept we have to leave now!”


“SHUSH!” “Come on!”


7:20am: We leave. (Me and Mom)


7:50am?: We get to Children’s, and I go with Mom to the room where I’m supposed to have my 1-2 hour lay-flat-on-your-back scan. They ask if I haven’t eaten for 4 hours. We tell them I stopped feeds at 7. “Uh-oh,” they say, and poke my finger for blood to test my gluclose (?). Turns out it was alright, so I go lay down for 1.30 hours of a scan.