Still Here.

Brain cancer is...

...still here.

Kristine and I did our back-to-back sessions starting at 8:00 this morning.  The sessions went well.  We love hanging with art teachers; they continue to wonder about the world, take risks, and see beauty in the different ways one can be human. 


Rather than ending our post here, I need to tell you two stories.  The first is mine; the second is Darrell's.

Story One:  Andi's Story

As you know from yesterday's post, Darrell planned to sleep in while Kristine and I presented.  If you know Darrell, you were with me in doubting the likelihood of that plan coming to fruition.  At 6 :00 this morning, I had trouble making the Keurig machine work.  (Why did I think I could instantly make coffee in a foreign city when I don't make my own coffee at home?)  And I couldn't find my fitbit.  Sure enough, by 7:30, Darrell was downstairs, fitbit in hand, checking my tech, hanging pictures of beetles. Andi hearts Darrell.

Story Two:  Darrell's Story 

A bit leery about the competence of a woman who can't operate a Keurig machine, Darrell pulled up a chair and sat in the back for our sessions.  It wasn't long before I sent him up one flight of stairs to the food place to refill Kristine's cup and my cup with coffee (again with the coffee!).  He was back in our room, 10 minutes later, security guard in tow.  I stepped into the hall for a conversation.


Upstairs, the guard had questioned Darrell about scrounging coffee.  (Disclosure:  Darrell was not wearing a conference lanyard.  San Francisco is full of people who need coffee and don't have a way to pay for it.  Darrell might have been one.)  Upon questioning Darrell, the guard heard his speech and asked, "Have you been drinking?"  Darrell led him back to our session. 


Back in the hallway outside our session (thank goodness Darrell got the guard there!), I explained Darrell's super hero status.  Darrell doffed his hat to share his arrays.  The guard accepted our explanation and wished Darrell all his best.


Darrell wanted you to hear this story. 


He felt bad.  He's a super hero.  He's a PhD in mechanical engineering.  He's a department chair.  Or, maybe if you're a security guard, he's just another homeless guy, drinking, looking for a cup of coffee.


I am so proud of my husband for sharing this story.  He is a constant reminder for me to check my assumptions.  I never know what another human is facing. 


Brain cancer:  Still here.  Brain cancer:  A reminder that if you CAN afford the extra 30 bucks for this view...

...you should do it.  Worth it.