The Difference a Year Makes

Before.



After.

Walk-a, Walk-a

Yep, my feet hurt.

Yep, it was worth it.

Song to the Siren

It starts innocently enough -- you raise your child to be friendly and outgoing -- to develop bonds to others, while remembering always that you in your role as parent are the best thing since sliced bread. You revel in every hug, every kiss, every "I love you Daddy", with the wild abandon of a cat diving into a pool of catnip.

Then, just when you think you've mastered the parent/child bond, she comes along.

She, with the long flowing hair and sultry voice.

She with the size zero waste, the purple clam-shell bra, and long, slender fins.

I speak, of course, of Ariel.



Yes, after indoctrinating Vampboy into movie-watching with this undersea harpie and her collection of exotically-gilled friends, VM and I have watched our son descend from an independent little guy into a hopelessly obsessed boy, pining for the aquatic love that dare not speak its name.

After viewing the movie three times, it was time to break out the soundtrack. After listening to that about 1,000 times ("Poor Unfortunate Souls", indeed) it was time to buy the tie-in book -- which VB would take to bed and look through until his tired eyes closed and his sleepy arms dropped the book onto his face. In our continuing negotiations about the goal of moving beyond pull-ups into "big boy underwear", the only way we've made any progress is to assure him that we will supply "Little Mermaid underwear" -- even though that means VM will be putting her artistic talents to drawing her on toddler boy tighty-whiteys.

We tried to let him watch "Finding Nemo", but it only reminded him of other characters under the sea he'd rather spend time with. He did sit through "Cars", but he only seems to care about Lighting McQueen being on his pull-ups. I guess you can't fight toddler love.

Somewhere Walt Disney is laughing in his cryogenic storage tank, counting off one more convert to be added to the growing drone army that will be unleashed when the alien invasion arrives. (Note: This reminds me -- I'll have to explain my "Disney conspiracy" another day.)

Stand Up to Cancer -- You Too, Kid!

September is Childhood Cancer Awareness Month. This Saturday, September 13th, is Childhood Cancer Awareness Day. Of course, for me, every second of the last 2+ years has been Childhood Cancer Awareness Moment.

But it's not about me. In fact, it's about:

- 12,500: That's the number of children newly diagnosed with cancer every year in the US, according to Curesearch . That's 34 families a day that receive the worst news you could ever imagine (an I should know).

- 1 in 250: By 2010, that's the number of adults that will be survivors of a pediatric cancer.

-The leading cause of death in youth under the age of 15: Brain Tumors.

Of course, although these numbers are tragic and heartbreaking, they do not match the number of adults that receive a cancer diagnosis in a given year. For that reason, many of the major "cancer advocacy" groups often talk about childhood cancer as an after-thought.

Well, it shouldn't be. For kids who develop cancer, their survival often comes with a lifetime of future hardships and challenges that are unique. Childhood cancers impact patients and families in ways different than adult cancers. There are educational challenges that are yet to be fully understood -- there are health insurance challenges that will plague childhood cancer survivors for years (or until the United States gets it together and decides to treat access to affordable, quality health care as the right of every American and not a luxury). These are just two examples, but there are more.

So, here are a few things to think about, know and do in recognition of this month/day/moment. Let your heart be your guide....

1. VOTE. Let this serve as my one comment on the current election season. Don't vote for anyone who would not increase funding for cancer research -- and make sure they include pediatric cancers specifically. Do vote for anyone what would ensure that every child with a cancer diagnosis has access to the best treatment possible, at a cost that will not bankrupt the family -- or saddle a young child with a lifetime of debt they will inherit from their parents some day in the future.

2. GIVE. Whether it's your local Children's Hospital, Pediatric Cancer Clinic or Research and Advocacy Organization, they all need your help. Or, the next time your local news runs a "human interest story" about some family going through pediatric cancer, write down the fund address that usually pops up at the end and send them a check -- even $5 means a lot. Tell them Vampdaddy sent you.

3. Remember. Lately it has become quite "sexy" to talk about cancer. Between Lance Armstrong returning to cycling (ride on!) or this month's Stand Up to Cancer event, the disease has become a media darling. Make sure that the glitz of the next Cancer Cause that gets tossed at you includes some conversation about kids with cancer. If it doesn't, move on.

4. Eat at Chili's on September 29th. I am the last person to advocate for fast food -- and have not opted to use my blog as a venue to advertize. However, Chili's restaurants is donating all of the profits they make on that day to the St. Jude Research Hospital. As it's the only place around that not only provides treatment, but housing for families -- all FREE OF CHARGE -- they deserve some love. They are also treating patient's with VB's Cancer. My advice is to try the Blue Cheese Burger (with the Black Bean Burger substitute, for all you vegetarians out there).

5. By groceries at Stop and Shop. Of course, both #4 and #5 only apply if you live in an area where they exist -- but Stop and Shop grocery stores provide huge amounts of funding to the Jimmy Fund Clinic at Dana Farber in Boston -- specifically their Brain Tumor Clinic Program. It also helps that they actually have a decently affordable line of organic goods. Yummy.

6. Vote. Yes, it's so important that I said it twice.

Be back next week with something more amusing and less cancer-related...Promise...

Our Cancer

Leroy Sievers is gone.

Those of us who have been reading his "My Cancer" blog over the past couple of years new this day was coming. Recently, it was clearly nearer than ever. Yet the shock of reading that he passed away suddenly this weekend still reverberates.

For those who live in "C World", Leroy's blog became more than just another person's account of their cancer journey. For many, it became a community -- where comments were left and exchanged that brought together many who were experiencing their own battle. Leroy was someone who clearly read people's comments, as he'd often be inspired for his daily post by something someone else commented on the day before. When a long-time reader lost her battle, he wrote the next day not about his own experience, but her -- and the impact she had clearly had on so many in the "My Cancer" community.

A few weeks ago Leroy appeared on NPR's "Talk of the Nation", and followed his appearance with a live podcast. I think I asked some stupid question regarding how Leroy had dealt with health insurance issues (I must have been knee deep in fighting over some bill or another that day), but the other questions were shockingly forward: Was Leroy prepared to die, how did he want to spend his final days, did he have a "Do Not Resusitate" order, etc. Leroy never flinched, never waivered in giving an answer as direct and honest as the original question.

There are plenty of times that I feel like I don't want to write about VB's cancer any longer. When something happens that becomes a part of who you are against your will, there are times you'd just like to put it aside and forget that it ever happened. In those moments, however, I've often thought about Leroy, and his decision to get up every day and write something, anything, that would bear witness to his experience and the experiences of so many that did not have the platform for expression that he did as a reporter. Leroy's expample inspired me to open up my computer and follow his lead.

We who live and fight and struggle against cancer have lost a great voice, one who dared to put out to the world the unfliching reality of this experience. May all of us who choose to tell our stories, in whatever way, continue to carry Leroy with us.

VB 4, C 0

"Code Blue".

We all know what that means -- at least, those of us who have kept at least one medically-related show in our viewing repertoire since the dawn of television. When you're sitting in the lobby of Chez Healing, eating a bagel sandwich while your son sleeps two floors above you in an MRI machine, your mind goes places when you hear those words over the intercom.

Somewhere nearby a life is possibly ending. Did anyone see it coming? Is this how they expected it to turn out? What hopes and dreams are suddenly being placed into the "never mind" pile? Are the parents there, watching this unfold?

Will George Clooney or Noah Wyle show up in time to save them?

I'm going to hell, I think to myself as I move beyond my shallow curiosities and focus on the breakfast food before me. Of course, I understand that this belittling of what is most certainly a nightmare for someone is my own emotional defense, designed to keep myself from going down the road of envisioning, feeling, preparing...

But there is no need to fear the worst today. Once again VB returned from his MRI a little groggy from the anesthesia, but still "free of disease".

A day without our own Code Blue -- a good day indeed.

Thank you, Thank you

1. Thank you to members of the "Stem Cell Cyclists" team, who as of last weekend had raised over $100,000 while participating in the Pan Mass Challenge with VB as their "pedal partner"! Since last year's ride took place while he was in the hospital, it was a great treat to be able to hang out at one of the water stops this year and cheer the team on!

2. Thanks to everyone at my "old job" for the send-off. I miss you all already.

Yes, I have an "old job" because....

3. Thanks to everyone at my "new job" for making me feel welcome! I know I've yet to speak of it here, but I was offered a great chance to expand my horizons and take on an ambitious project covering the whole "vamp state". There's a lot to learn, but I'm a week and a half in an loving every minute of it!

4. Sadly, NO thanks to the seizure gnomes that took it upon themselves to once again dance around in VB's head -- not once, but twice in the last week. It appears that our little man is growing up fast, and while his weight has not gone up, his little "I think I can" metabolism decided to ramp-up a bit and drop the effectiveness of his medication dose. So we've upped it yet again, and hope that the gnomes go back into hibernation...Forever.

5. Thanks to Chez Healing and VB's treatment team -- who are willing to address our concerns regarding the "other" potential reason for #4. They've moved up VB's next MRI date to this coming Tuesday, August 12th (it was supposed to be later in the month). So we only have to wait a week to put to bed any fears that the gnomes are the least of our worries.

6. Lastly, thanks to everyone who has donated so far to my Jimmy Fund Walk effort (see the link on the left of the page if you'd like more info on this shameless plug). Truth be told I've yet to pound the pavement in preparation -- as the new job/gnome battle has kept me quite busy. However, mentally I'm already walking, and isn't half the battle psyching oneself up? I guess we'll find out after they carry my over the finish line in September.