Friday, October 7, 2016

Seven Scary Skeleton Sightings

Brain cancer is...

 

...scared of skeleton sightings!

This plastic skeleton followed us home from Ralphs, and now he* keeps photo bombing typical moments in our day.  Because we take turns placing him, no one is ever sure where he'll turn up next.  Scary, Scary Halloweeeeen!

Emeritus Status Update

Darrell's certificate came today, so now we know his emeritus status is real:


Kathie, you'll be glad to know that the parking pass came too.  If you ever want to hang out with Darrell at the place he used to work, just let him know (but don't expect him to say yes; he has no plans to go back.  Ha!).

Go Professor Emeritus, Darrell!

*We know the skeleton is male because we have two med students in the house.  Enough said, probably.

Thursday, October 6, 2016

Whimisical English!

Brain cancer is...

...taking time to ponder quirky comparisons.

You know it's a good day when the most important thing to contemplate is the English language.

On our way to the park this morning, Darrell said we "slept like babies" last night.  As we pondered our own babies, we concluded that they were always awesome people, but we wouldn't consider them the gold standard for sleepers. In fact, we decided, we know no parents who say that their babies slept better than they did.  Maybe some long-ago parents were just so grateful that their babies slept at all that they invented that saying.




At the park, we enjoyed watching the coots.  That got us thinking about the saying "crazy as a coot."  We assure you that these images are representative of the typical coot behavior we have observed.
 



Nothing remarkable, right?  Certainly the coots were no crazier than the ducks that came running toward us, blatantly disregarding the sign in the background that warns us not to feed them.

In fact, the park bird behavior that most closely hits the description of "crazy" came from these "crazy aggressive" Canadian geese in August.  This photo is after they left us alone; we were frightened!

We decided the most likely origin for "crazy as a coot" is the coots' "crazy cool" feet:
Source:  https://www.pinterest.com/pin/189432728052760346/


By the time we turned away from the lake, we were sweating.  "Sweating like a dog!" Wrong again.  Despite the fact that Beowulf is 7 pounds and takes about 5 steps to our one, he evidenced no visible signs of sweat.  Whose dog sweats? 

Despite all these mysteries, Darrell and I are "as happy as clams" today.  Whaaat? It seems like a low standard for happiness, given the lack of any noticeable happiness in the clams we've observed, but it's good to have a baseline, yes? Okay, we are "at least as happy as clams" today, and probably far happier.

We hope you're exceeding the clam happiness baseline today too, Team D!









Wednesday, October 5, 2016

Emeritus Status Granted

Brain cancer is...

10/03/16 letter from CSULA President granting Darrell emeritus status

 ...located in a highly distinguished head.

Congratulations to Big D.  He just received emeritus status at CSULA.  With this status, he is able to keep his CSULA email address and receive a university lifetime parking pass, among other things.

Darrell found two other milestone letters as he was putting the above letter away.

9/22/98 letter from the Engineering Dean, offering Darrell a tenure track position at CSULA

10/22/91 letter admitting Darrell to UCI's PhD program
We enjoyed this romp through time and Darrell's distinguished career. 
The day had other bright spots too:

  • A 94% Optune compliance rating this month
  • A great early morning walk with Kim and Christine
  • Pumpkin pancakes at Polly's
After walking four miles, why not?


Tuesday, October 4, 2016

My Husband, My Hero

Brain cancer is...

 

...hero status:  Solidified!

Today Darrell went back to St. Jude Wellness and Rehab Center.  I know you remember speech therapy there, with Maureen, in May.  But things change.  When one series of sessions ran out, just before our trip to Catalina, we didn't renew.

This time Darrell joined the center as a member of the cancer recovery program called STAR.

It was a difficult morning.  Joining this program meant intake evaluations by Occupational Therapy and Physical Therapy in addition to a new evaluation for Speech Therapy.

For the past several months, we've spent our lives learning to use work-arounds, to be positive, and to focus on what is possible today.

In fact, while we were sitting, waiting early this morning, Darrell loved reading this wall art:



The hard lesson today is that the philosophy of "living in the present moment wisely and earnestly" must be reconciled with the goals of therapy.  For us, therapy seems centered in yesterday ("What happened?") and tomorrow ("What can we do?"). 

Each therapist probed around until he or she found areas of weakness that could benefit from therapy.  Examples include eye-hand keyboard coordination and hip and hamstring weakness, in addition to the most important speech diagnosis:  Dysarthria.  

No doubt you can imagine what it felt like for Darrell to, first, revisit the February hospital visit, which included Kristin (the original "name the animals, or just say 'Dragon'" woman), and, second, to be in a facility that is focused on tomorrow.  We heard from a young person going through physical rehab because a mosquito bite pulled her into the world of West Nile Virus, and we struggled beside an older man navigating the new world of Parkinson's disease. 

Probably the most difficult part of today that these rehab/wellness patients of all ages (10 months to 100 years) were future-directed.  We have not been. We have lived in the present.  What, then, are we doing at therapy?

If we zoom out in the wall art by the Buddha that Darrell so appreciated early on, we see the larger message:  "Journey."  


How is focusing on today part of the journey?  We don't know.  This stuff is hard.

Darrell has agreed to return for many speech sessions to address his dysarthria and a couple sessions of OT to pin down the letters on the keyboard (they keep moving!).  But we struggle with the notion of fighting for a better tomorrow while we are so focused on appreciating today.

For this reason, Darrell is my hero.  

And also for this reason, all the people at the rehab center today are our collective heroes.

Best to you as you decipher your most important goals and how your goals work together:  Today's and tomorrow's.

Monday, October 3, 2016

Nice and Cool

Brain cancer is...

 ...nice and cool!

Nick, the air conditioner installation foreman, confirmed our Air Conditioning Murphy's Law Corollary:  Air conditioners break on the hottest day of the year (108 degrees) and get repaired on the coolest day (76 degrees). 

We view it as a win-win:  We had a lovely, cool day and we have a new, functioning air conditioner.  We don't have $7,000 that we had yesterday, but such is life.

Thinking of you and hoping that your Monday was similarly nice and/or cool.


Sunday, October 2, 2016

My Husband, the Hoodlum

Promise to the Readers:  Darrell will not act on his humorous visions.

Brain cancer is...

...humor that goes over like a rock.

As you know, Big D is a funny, funny man.  This week his humor took a turn toward the black.  He is painting whole dramatic mental scenes involving minor (?) violence done to others.  These scenes keep us laughing out loud.  Here's the most notable (and least worrisome) example.

At Craig Park, there is a tree that is frequently surrounded by a flock of photographers with very fancy cameras sporting expensive lenses, perched upon tripods.  Until this week, we have just wandered by.  (Side note: We discovered that they are photographing a bird from Africa that is somehow thriving here:  a long-tailed yada yada.)

This week, we didn't just walk by that flock o' photographers.  As we approached, Darrell first belly laughed and then shared the scene in his head, acting it all out. 

Picture this, Team D:  Darrell and Andi gather shirts full of rocks, and we charge the photographers, giving warrior cries.  Darrell is the scary force, frightening them with his aggressive presence.  He counts on Andi for accuracy (given my slightly better dart game) to bean the photographers.  With them scrabbling away terrified, we grab their cameras and sprint in the other direction.

You can see it, right?

Darrell is having such success building this scene that many of his humor scenarios now involve throwing rocks at people. 

You're either for or against us, Team D.  Choose.

Thank goodness you keep us grounded, friends, with adventures like the ones we shared with the Torres/Victorias today.  Andi and Denise did the 6-mile  Peter's Canyon hike.  Here's life at the summit:

Then Denise gave Andi a peak into the magic of her special Darrell burritos:

Denise and Mary gave Darrell his awesome treats before hearing about the rock throwing.  Let's hope they don't defect now that they see who we really are.  (You won't, right, Denise?)

Here's to black humor, and here's to you, Team D.   Have a great start to your week!







 

Saturday, October 1, 2016

More Family, More Fun.

Reader reminder: In an earlier post we quoted a favorite server at our Thai restaurant:  "More kids, more fun."

Brain cancer is...

 ...enjoying family, some more.

What a Saturday!  We enjoyed Craig Park with the pups, Summer, and Zach early this morning (above).  Next we enjoyed breakfast out and post-breakfast conversation in (below) with Melanie and Gail. 

Lunch out with Tiana and Alex was a great conclusion to the fun today.

More family, more fun.

Happy post-chemo Saturday, Team D.  Cheers!