My Father's House

Today Andrew returned to the hospital for his second 96 hour round of chemo. He checked in after his radiation treatment and at 8 p.m. this evening he was hooked up to the bag and rolling. Three hours down, 93 left to go. Socks are pale green with white dots. . and he looks good!

This was exactly what my friend Carla said when we visited him this evening. Carla and her husband Paul traveled all the way from Baltimore to help us out with this round. Our dogs are ecstatic as they are receiving lots of love, treats and big walks from Carla while Paul's been busy in the kitchen since he arrived and already whipped a marvelous veggie lasagne that was waiting for us when we got back from the hospital.

"He looks great." Carla said as we were headed to the elevators leaving the oncology ward, but she was also crying. "It's hard to see that (Andrew hooked up), it makes it so real." I knew exactly what she was feeling and the last time I was in exactly that same shape when I left him there for the first time. I hugged her and said "I know." But I wasn't crying this time so I guess that means I'm getting used to this strange routine. Is that weird? I not sure. . .

The difference between our first check in at the hospital and and second was quite striking. The first time we were quiet and hesitant and wondering and tentative. Eyes wide open we were almost afraid to touch anything. This time Andrew strolled in his room and started moving around the furniture to suit him. "Could you help me move this bed over to the left," he asked the nurse as she was trying to take his vital signs. He tilted the bed up to the exact angle he wanted, rearranged the covers and pillows and then was out of the room in the next moment to see which end of the hall had the best views. Definitely we both were a little more comfortable with this.

Our relaxed state was surely a result of our knowing what to expect but also probably a residual from our trip to my father's house this past weekend. We both wanted to take the best advantage of our time before he had to go into the hospital again, particularly since he was feeling so good, and we agreed without much conversation that the best way to do that was by visiting my Dad who lives about three hours away from us in small town in the foothills of the Green Mountains.

We both love visiting my Dad and his house has become quite a refuge for us. This started years ago when when we would travel up from Virginia to visit both he and my Mom (divorced for 17 years, but still

both living in the same very small town.) My Mom, God rest her soul, was quite a planner, and would have a list of things we had to do with her which started the minute we walk through her door. My father, on the other hand, had and continues to have absolutely no expectations of our time. Its do whatever you want to do at Dad's house, on your own time and in your own way. No strings attached. Time at my father's house is down time. Real down time.

This is enhanced by three major features of

his home --- The house he grew up in that has been renovated by him to be the ultimate man cave --- 1. He has things in it that we really enjoy but we are far to cool to buy for ourselves (Lazy Boy

recliners, fuzzy blankets with animal pictures on them);

2.He has food in the refrigerator we enjoy but would never dream of buying or eating at home (sliced pepperoni, apple turnovers, an

d Klondike bars) and 3. he has many things that have not been available for sale since the 1970's but are cool and enjoyable and just plain weird (a turntable with vinyl records, two shelves of very tacky knick knacks).

The dogs love it because there is a big yard, and Andrew loves it because he can sit in a big chair and watch soccer with my Dad

for as long as he likes, usually with a big fire going in the fireplace. I love it because I don't really have to talk to anybody. My Dad and Andrew sit and chat and I sit and read, MY favorite

thing. Its the ultimate kick back place. It also helps that he doesn't have good internet connection and that the valley he lives in is on the edge of AT&T's coverage so our cell phones only marginally

work. No email or phone calls does wonders for the blood pressure!

The enjoyment of going to my Dad's has also been enhanced recently by our finding an authentic fish and chip shop in the next town over. Little Britain's fish and chips are totally up to par to any we've experienced in England, and make for the perfect bulk-it-up meal before chemotherapy treatment. Amazing crispy batter dipped fish, juicy and tender on the inside --- absolutely not health food, but just what the doctor ordered in this case.

We topped off with two strawberry Ta-Ta cupcakes (use your

imagination) from the Crazy Russian Girls bakery just around the

corner. Ah heaven!!!

So we were all pretty mellow and satiated when we got in the car to head back to the 'Cuse on Sunday. It was tough to leave. My Dad hugged Andrew good bye (Something he doesn't really do) and said, "I'm really glad you came, because its a lot better to see you in person and see how you are than to hear about it on the phone." While I guess that was in fact some kind of ending, it sure made for a nice beginning, of this, our fifth week on this journey! Day #29 is looking good. . .