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Oh, Papa Bradstein -- how you torment me.

During one of my last fellow-blogger check-ins before my self-imposed exile, I discovered that this blog-hound tagged me with an "8 days a week meme". Not one who completely understands the concept, I did enough digging to figure out that it would have to wait until my return. This also provided me something to fret over during my time away -- as if I needed anything more (as you will discover shortly). However, now that I'm ready to put hand to keyboard once again, this seems like the perfect way to get you all caught up and to share my vast knowledge about several things that are completely mundane.

So, over the next 8 posts, I will introduce you to The Truth. Mind you, it is indeed "out there".

8 Things I did during my "vacation"

1. Bent myself into a pretzel, and cooked until golden brown.
Yes, I finally made the plunge and became a practitioner of Bikram Yoga. For those not in the know, this is the yoga done while you sweat away your very soul in a room heated to a toasty 105 degrees. The first time I did it I thought I was going to die. The second time, I needed to lie still for the second half of the 90 minute class, but the end of my existence didn't loom as large on the horizon. Over the next few times I got the hand of it, and by now I think I can get through the entire class without passing out. I say "I think" because....

2. Enjoyed a return to Chez Healing!
Yes, Vampboy asked for a pony for Christmas -- and Santa responded by giving him a lifetime seizure disorder. This is one of the many things that fall into the category of "latent effects" brought on by brain tumors and their subsequent treatment. We spent the entire week before Christmas at Chez Healing in two separate residencies -- each brought on by a seizure he had at home. The first was rather small, but the second was rather large. Vampboy doesn't have the type of seizures where he flails about like a fish out of water; rather, he has "partial complex seizures," where he slowly blanks out until something just short of a catatonic state comes over him. Initial tests gave the chilling possibility that the cause was a relapse in his cancer -- giving us about 48 hours of sheer terror and panic -- until further tests concluded that was not the case. I'll tell you, though; it's really a sad state of affairs when you're actually glad that your child has a seizure disorder -- but the other option was far, FAR worse. At present VB is doing well and seizure-free, thanks to a medication he may be on forever. Plus, the whole affair put a huge crimp in my overall plans for a restful month, not to mention taking me away from my "sweaty stretching class".

3. Power-shopped.
The other challenge wrought by the above activity was the delay in getting the holiday shopping done. Although abject poverty reduced our ability to be generous with many of our loved ones, a little help from some kind sources gave us at least the ability to buy tokens for our family. So, with Vampboy off with relatives, I did a mad dash to the stores the weekend before to contribute what I could to the December economic figures. What I found most amusing is that I was surrounded by what I've come to understand is the typical profile of the last-minute Christmas shopper: Male, and carrying at least one bag from Victoria's Secret. Guys, really -- can't you think of something that she might actually enjoy, not just you?

4. Organized the "War Chest".
It had been a year since I'd done any filing of our various papers -- bills, receipts, etc. Add to that what I estimate to be over 600 "Summary of Benefits" forms from Vampboy's insurance carrier, and I ended up spending a huge chunk of my waking time sifting through a pile almost bigger than me. Everything is now filed in it's proper place, with all things medical in a large, highly organized storage bin. Here's hoping that we never have to add to it.

5. Watched the first 3 seasons of "The X-Files" on DVD.
What else was I to do while engaging in #4? There are two things this taught me: first, I still think Gillian Anderson is hot. Second, I'm glad they got rid of that damn brown brief case she seemed to carry in every scene of the first season. And the shoulder pads - good Lord, she looked like a tiny football-playing office worker!

6. Celebrated a couple of holidays -- maybe you've heard of them?
Both Christmas and New Years were peaceful and without drama. Santa did make up for the seizure thing by getting the one present VB had talked about for months - a red plastic cup with a straw. Strange, but it's better than him asking for a Playstation 3.

7. Went All-Natural.
No, this was not my attempt at living as a nudist. As a family thinking about moving into "survivor mode", one of the things we decided to do was look at how we could eliminate things from our environment that increase the risk for cancer. Our main plunge was to switch all of our cleaning products to stuff that's entirely natural. We're lucky to have a local shop that specializes in that very thing, so our house is now clean as a whistle and smelling of Lavender (which, as it turns out, is a natural anti-bacterial).

8. Itune, Youtune, we all scream for...
While I didn't get to my entire collection (not even close, in fact) I did follow through on some uploading of my current CD catalogue onto Itunes. However, it leads me to believe that I might need to acquire my own Mac to finish the job, for fear the one we have might explode under the musical weight.

One down, seven to go. Watch out, Bradstein --- revenge will be mine!

Construction Time Again

There is an office building not far from where I live that burned to the ground last spring. I drove past it as it was burning, and watched the flames and smoke billow into the sky for quite some time. All that was left was a low-wall of bricks and the occasional piece of siding, overshadowed by a black skeletal frame and burnt remains of what used to be.

Within a few months, though, you'd never know it had happened. It wasn't long before charred beams were replaced by brand new construction -- and in what seemed to be a matter of moments, the building stood as it once was. Just like that, damage was all but erased, and the town returned to having a conveniently located office complex to find mortgage and real estate services. Hooray.

If only life were like that -- things fall apart, fire lays waste to your existence, yet there are happy little construction elves who can return you to normal without so much as a scar. I had hoped that my sabbatical from the daily grind would restore me to my optimal freshness. While I've had some great highlights from my time away, the one lesson I have learned is that the only elves that exist are those that are busy ensuring that Santa brings Vampboy the toys he asked for -- or shooting Orcs in Middle Earth.

We are changed forever by our experiences, both good and bad. While our impulse when things go wrong is to try to return to the way things were, I've come to understand that it doesn't work like that. Instead, the work is not to "rebuild", but rather to construct something new out of what remains. It will never look the same, but hopefully it'll be roomy and well-lit with plenty of storage space for better days.

I'll be back with tales from my time away later this week, but thought I'd post to wish you all a happy New Year -- this one is definitely better than the last one, so hopefully it's only getting better from here.

It's good to be back.

Hibernation

"Well I'm searching for somethin'
That I can't reach
So I whisper your name
In my sleep.
'N time isn't giving me,
The space that I need.
But you know at this pace,
I don't think I can pull into the lead."

It is too much for one person to handle -- cancer, the battle against death; watching helplessly as your child, the being you'd give your very life to protect, suffers with nothing you can do to stop it. And yet, here I am -- and here we are. I don't know how we did it, and I don't know how I'll do it again if some future scan brings us back into the darkness. If this experience has taught me anything, I am clearly aware that all I have -- indeed, all that any of us have -- is this moment, right now.

In this moment, I'm tired. The aforementioned struggles have been fought while I still get up in the morning and go to work. My job is demanding, but I love it -- I love it enough to let it take me from my family 8 hours a day, 5 days a week (sometimes more).

Finally we return to something that looks vaguely like the life we had. There are still many questions needing answers, but there is a familiarity returning to the day-to-day on my end. Yet, I can feel "it" still within me. It's is in the clenching of my jaw when someone shares their relief that the nightmare is "over". It's in my throat every time I look at a recent photo of Vampboy at school, when I feel as though I may burst into tears right then and there. It's in the fear that crosses my mind in the darkness of the night, as he snuggles next to me looking for a safety he doesn't realize I can't actually provide.

"Cause I can't carry this around any more,
It's getting heavier with age.
It is the boulder in my stomach.
It's the avalanche in my veins."

What is "it"? It's what this experience has done to me. I am the classic "hero" -- willing and able to stretch myself to the breaking point to save the world, all the while functioning on fumes and a healthy dose of denial about how sad, angry or messed up I feel inside. I am also keenly aware what happens to heroes if they don't take their time to fall apart. It would be easy for me to bury myself in my fantabulous job and fill every waking moment outside of work running errands, making dinner, putting Vampboy to bed, visiting friends and family, etcetera, etcetera. Then, eventually, what is stuffed neatly in a corner of my heart would escape from its cage and tear me apart, along with anyone within a mile radius of me. I know better than to allow it to get to that level. So, since it looks like Vampboy is okay for the moment, it's time for Vampdaddy to take care of his eternal self.

"So let's leave it behind -
I want to bury it beside the road.
I will sit there until it comes out of me
I'll be freezing in the summer desert cold."

I am going off the grid for awhile. In real-life, that means I'm taking the month of December off of work -- most of it, anyway. Vampboy will be in school, Vampmommy will start her own process of regrouping, so my time will be my own to rest and re-charge. I have no big plans -- there will be some yoga, there will be some art, there will be some time sitting around in pajamas, watching some sweeping movie epic while continuing the never-ending task of uploading my entire cd collection to I-Tunes (anyone who knows me knows that this last activity would most likely require a year-long sabbatical to complete, but I might as well start somewhere). There will also be some holiday cheer and family-time, which is always good to approach well-rested.

There will be some writing -- but it will not be here. There are some things I need to document, experiences I need to put down, feelings I need to articulate that are not for this venue. They will find their own home, I'm sure - and I have no doubt that some day they will reach your eyes and you will once again share with me your grace and kindness.

This is my fancy way of saying that "off the grid" also means that I am taking a break from the blog. Not for long -- I expect to have some witty post prepared to kick off 2008. But December is for me, and I'm hoping to let my soul guide me through my own process for awhile. I promise I will break my silence should I have something to share regarding Vampboy's life and journey, so keep checking back -- but no news will be good news should it remain quiet here.

To you all I extend my warmest wishes for a December full of joy for you and yours. I have written before of my gratitude for everyone that has helped make my blog a sanctuary for me, and for the gifts both literal and figurative that you have offered to my family. My feelings on that matter, and for each of you, remain steadfast. I look forward to a return to Vampdaddy in a few weeks with renewed energy, spirit, and fun stories to share about the outcome of Vampboy's ever-growing Christmas list (there's a six-foot tall inflatable snowman on it at the moment).

The journey continues.....

"Somehow we get there,
From wherever we are.
Somehow we get there -
No matter how far"

"Somehow We Get There" by Melissa Ferrick.

Post-Turkey Haze

It has been an entertaining holiday weekend at the Vamp Lair. Thanksgiving day was a family affair with Turkey in all it's forms -- turkey pot pie for lunch, sliced turkey and cheese for snack, and then the full-on tryptophan-tastic traditional turkey dinner. Yummy! The rest of the weekend has been spent visiting with friends, eating left-overs, and playing games - including the New England favorite of candlepin bowling. Those of you not living on the East Coast have no idea what you're missing!

The next MRI has been scheduled for February 1st. Having a date assigned is an odd feeling -- I guess a reminder that it'll be a long time before C-Camp is out of sight. In the meantime, Vampboy has happily transitioned off all of his medications (except for an anti-biotic he'll stay on for six months), and this weekend we are celebrating the end of his overnight feeds through his MIC-KEY Button. The button has to stay in awhile longer as we wait for proof that his growing appetite isn't going away, but to go through a day without having to "plug him in" for medications or that bland gray liquid is something I never thought I'd see -- much like his hair, which is starting to make a subtle appearance on his shiny little head.

Thanks to all who emailed and shared compliments about VB's Thanksgiving picture. I should note that it was taken by his teacher at school, who has been gracious enough to send us detailed photojournalist-quality reports on his days at "Chez Learning". How she is able to get him to sit there and smile without a "don't take my picture" freak-out is beyond me. It speaks volumes to her talent, and the fact that I think VB has a crush on her. What a player!

With Thanksgiving 2007 a thing of the digestive past, you may be wondering what would make Turkey Day 2008 even better. Might I recommend a Turducken? I friend introduced me to the concept recently, and while I've yet to try one, I gravitate to the idea like drivers slowing down to look at the results of a violent car accident. I mean, who the hell thought this up?

Gobble

Master Over My Domain

So, in an attempt to lock-in my cyber-identity, I purchased my domain. So now, if you enter www.vampdaddy.com or www.vampdaddy.net, you get directed here. Isn't that exciting? I've also decided to purchase my real name. Apparently, I'm only worth about $2 at the moment, so it was a bargain. Don't bother trying it if you know my real name, though -- it won't direct you here. I figured I'd just save it for when I'm a rock star.

On a related note, in case anyone is curious, this is NOT me:
www.myspace.com/vampdaddy

The Bridge

When Vampboy was first diagnosed with Cancer, the oncologist who broke the news mentioned at one point that, for many, the end of treatment is actually harder than the beginning.

I now absolutely believe him.

Don't get me wrong -- the return of things like "free time" and "Vampboy's eyelashes" are celebrated milestones that are so indescribably good I don't think I can put it into words. However, the adjustment back into a normal existence is a shock to the system after so much time in Cancer World/Chez Healing. Then there is the added complexity that comes with the knowledge that what we had is forever lost to us -- and that even this "new normal" can be taken away from us at a moment's notice.

So we are left feeling like we are standing on a bridge between two worlds: Cancer World and "No Cancer World". Here's the view from either side:

No Cancer World

My son as a duck!
There are two great things about this photo: first, that VB had his first Halloween in over two years that did not take place in a hospital. And second, that this photo was taken at the Halloween party AT SCHOOL! That's right, VB will return to the land of toddler-studenthood this week, with last week's visits serving as a warm-up.

In the meantime, we navigate explaining to people where the end of treatment leaves us. One person actually asked if it was time to remove VB from their prayer list. They were not happy when I said "uh, no". Since VB will be 3 soon, we have to move him from his current "early support services" therapy folks to the special education program in our town. So soon we'll be negotiating our first Individualized Education Plan. What fun.

Cancer World

Our partners in treatment continue to battle on, with mixed results. Othergirl's prognosis is still in darkness as back-up plans leave little to celebrate. Princess is in the ICU this week for reason's we're unsure of, and the littlest fighter (there is a 4th -- have I mentioned that?) continues to battle on. Yet, we're not there for the day-to-day updates and support. Our new experience is the one they continue to dream of, and there reality is one we don't wish to revisit on ourselves. Sure, there's email and blog updates -- but its not the same when you're not in it.

Of course, the worst part about being on the bridge is that we can never truly leave Cancer World totally -- and No Cancer World isn't a secure home. From whichever side you view it, Cancer still sucks.