Sunday, November 30, 2008


"The tumor is right near the surface" he said. "It's highly accessible, but they still expect the surgery to take 4 to 5 hours."
"I'm just surprised. That seems like an awfully long time."
"It's brain surgery. Obviously you haven't been watching ER and Grey's with Mom."
Chuckling, "No, I haven't."


"The anaesthetist just came out to let me know that they're done with the resection and are beginning to close. He said they think they got it all, they think they got it all."
"They think they got it all."


"The surgeon said that the surgery was a complete success! They did everything they hoped to do, and there were no complications."


"The surgeon came by today, and while we were talking he said that the goal was to remove eighty to ninety percent of the tumor. He thinks they got close to ninety."
"Ninety percent? That's not 'all of it.'"


On Friday Ollie began giving kisses, and so far I am the only lucky recipient. The girl has got timing.

Unlike the Cracker's early "Mmmmmmm-ah!" smoochies, Ollie's are silent: just two baby hands and a wet, wide open mouth lean-in. And as if that weren't already enough to make my heart melt, she lingers.

Saturday, November 29, 2008


Every time I think of this picture my mind immediately envisions a scene from Grey's Anatomy. Cristina and George are goofing around when they see my mom's scan begin to appear on the screen. Cristina talks first, with some version of "Holy shit, would you look at that" to which George asks aloud "How could she have even been walking around?"

Pretty fucked up, eh?

Thursday, November 27, 2008


Today I am thankful that I am going to have more time with my mom.

Surgery went as well as it could have today. They removed a 5x6cm astrocytoma. They think they got it all. Because of the type of tumor they know or are fairly certain that it is the origin tumor. It was located in an area where they hope her memory and speech will not be affected, though she will likely continue to have vision and processing problems on her left side. The short term prognosis is positive even with her lupus. Understandably, until the pathology is back is 4-5 days they don't want to speculate on the long term, though my dad is getting the impression that it's not good and that the rate of recurrence is high.

My mom is a fighter -- she always has been. I got a chance to talk with her tonight, and already she sounded so much better, like herself again, not the woman she's been the last few months. She wants to live. She wants to fight. I think today was a good day.

Wednesday, November 26, 2008

Waiting, Updated

My mom has a brain tumor. The only thing we know is that it's big. Surgery is scheduled for Friday.

Surgery has been moved up to Thursday, 9am PST. It's also my Dad's 65th birthday.

Monday, November 24, 2008

F is For...

Since August I have baked, from scratch, and sent in no less than 5 separate recipes on 5 separate occasions. I could have purchased Walmart bakery crap like the majority of the other parents, but I didn't. Nope, not once. And I even liked doing it.

Last week the Cracker's teacher sent home a family project: "prepare a recipe of bread" that represents your culture to be sent in and shared with the class Turkey Day style. (The kids are making butter -- I sent it heavy whipping cream for that already.) Discuss with your student ahead of time why this bread is important to your heritage, do a little write-up, and make sure your student is prepared to present it to the class.

I'm sorry, but did you just ask me to bake bread? Do you know how much I find active dry yeast a royal pain in the ass? Culture? Heritage? The same week as Thanksgiving? Seriously?

My mom suggested Swedish Limpa bread, which I have made, but it's a Biotch.

My dad suggested I go out and buy a loaf of Wonder Bread. Because, yeah, we're white. (Tee hee hee! Dad!)

Have I mentioned the altitude? That I live a mile above sea level and I assume that all sea-level recipes will fail the first time around because they always do? That standard tweaks need recipe specific tweaking? That every Texan who has ever visited the metro area has a "I went to New Mexico and got altitude sickness from hiking a quarter mile" story? That edible won't happen on the first try? That I'd have to try, like, more than once?

Someone finally suggested (San Francisco) Sourdough: I think it was J, and I think he was joking, but I took it and ran. I ran all the way to the store and bought a loaf of not San Francisco, not generic either, but "Swiss" Sourdough, whatever the fuck that is, sliced for sandwiches by a machine and obviously not homemade.

Now for the write-up = J's problem. He has the Cracker write "Sourdough bread is from San Francisco and so is my mom." Done! J doesn't even remind him to write his name. Grrrr. So I help add that it makes us think of fog and goes nicely with clam chowder, blah blah blah.

F is for FAIL.

Proof I bake! (And a super cute picture of O-Mo as well.)

Monday, November 17, 2008

Saturday, November 08, 2008

My Boy

"So tonight you're in Arizona, and tomorrow you'll be in New Mexico? Hmmm...I think you're where John McCain lives..."

Saturday, November 01, 2008

That'll Learn Ya

Cracker takes jacket A to school and doesn't bring it home. Mom lectures and sends note to teacher. Mom sends Cracker to school the next day with jacket B, and explicit instructions to bring home jacket A and B and OMG it's Friday and jackets need to be home for the weekend. So, naturally, Cracker comes home jacketless. Mom loses her shit. Mom lectures, a lot.

Fast forward two weeks.

Jackets *always* come home. And for good measure, Cracker now brings home other kid's jackets too. Friday Mom sent him with one and he came home with three. I shit you not.