A different language

I got in the elevator here at Ronald McDonald House NYC and saw a woman I recognized from around the house but had never really chatted with. I casually said, "Hi. How are you?". She smiled and said, "We're going home today". No need to say more.


Ball o' nerves

I've been neglecting Cancer Dad. That means, I think, to some degree that I've been neglecting my need to deal with this well. I've written a couple of posts that I threw out. It was good for me to write them, but nothing to share. Maybe I'll post one of them someday. Probably not.

Today I am sick. Scans. I have told others and myself that I'm not too worried about these. That it would seem unlikely that the cancer would have grown through this first round of the new treatment. That I don't expect them to be better, but that I don't expect them to be worse either.

And I don't. I don't expect them to be worse. But I am afraid that they will be. Very afraid.


Long distance?

Sometimes it seems like a burden to have to travel all the way to NYC for Nathan's treatment. In the last two days I have met kids in the Ronald McDonald House from London, South Africa, and Greece. At an event for parents tonight I met two women from different Caribbean islands.

There are a lot of reasons to be happy to live in America. Top quality medical care is one of them. Sometimes it boggles my mind that the quality of care and treatment options can vary so much from facility to facility and city to city. It is when I'm here that I am thankful that at least I can get world class care in my country.


Blue Manhattan

In NYC. It is good that we are all here as a family. It is bad that we all have to be here. So much of all of this has a "flip side". Susan is out with the kids. I'm putting in some hours working from the RMH. Don't have much time or ability to organize my thoughts for a good post. So, I leave you with a post that might be more like you would find at A Night in the Box.

Ryan Adams - My blue Manhattan

She's angry like a child but how sweet
Fire and rain on the street
It's you against me most days
It's me against you doll
Ah, the snow's coming down
On the cars in midtown
Stone cold in sheets
With you all over me
Ain't that sweet my little gal
Ain't that sweet my little gal

My blue Manhattan
She cusses with her sailor's mouth
And fire and rain on the streets
It's you against me most days
It's me against you doll
Making snow angels
In the gravel and the dirt
Crawling like a spider
And I'm somewhere inside her
Too hurt to move
Too hurt to move