Water Woes

The Northeast has seen the 2nd wettest March on record. Flooded roads, houses, basements...even the schools and office buildings are leaking. We, however, were patting ourselves on the back yesterday, glad *we* had no problems.

Until this morning.

Husband left for work at 9:00 a.m., after working in his basement office. All was well at the time. About 10:30 a.m. I went down to put in a load of laundry, and there was at least an inch of water all over the basement. It wasn't even raining anymore, but we guess the water table was just too high and the water was seeping up from the ground. What a mess. I called husband and he rushed home. (I would so live in a condo if I were single.)

I called around frantically trying to find a pump, while husband used the shop-vac to keep ahead of the water. Every big box home improvement store in the area was sold out of pumps (utility pumps, which are stand-alone, as opposed to sump pumps, which are permanent, I guess). I called around to all the mom-and-pop hardware stores in the area, and all of them were sold out, too. The in-town hardware store said he sold over 250 pumps yesterday afternoon alone. Finally, I located a new-ish hardware store in the next town over, and they had some.

It looks like we are keeping ahead of the water now, although it's still very wet down there. I don't think we'll have any permanent damage, since most things are kept off the floor--just my thing about basements. The rug in the office/finished room is indoor/outdoor, and should dry just fine. I don't think mold will be a problem, and we'll run a dehumidifier. Thankfully, the next 7 days look to be sunny and warm, yay!

And here's a big cheer for the local hardware store, for coming through for us. Support your local stores...you never know when you'll need them.

Lucky

Last week the New York Times Well blog had an article by a columnist and cancer survivor on the inadequacies of words describing the experience. I ended up posting my least favorite comment about cancer: "You're so lucky."

Sometime after DD18's treatment ended, I found myself with way too many emotions to neatly categorize and file away. Not a new phenomenon, I'm sure, for cancer survivors nor those who care for them. I was having a conversation with a close relative, when I broke down and sobbed over all that I felt DD18 lost: her health, her innocence, her balance, good vision, and a general optimism and hope in the future borne of an idyllic childhood. Yes, treatment was "over" but everything else was still there. The elephant in the living room.

The close relative proceeded to chastise me and informed me I was "lucky" because my daughter was still alive.

Lucky? The dictionary definition of "lucky" is "resulting in good by chance." I felt rage bubble up in me...this was luck? This was "good"? By "chance"? Of course it was wonderful and I was thankful that DD18 was in remission, but I did not consider myself "lucky." In fact, I felt cheated out of the normal worries that mothers have, only to have them replaced or overshadowed by big, scary, unthinkable worries.

In some ways, the word "lucky" seemed to minimize everything, from the world-class surgeon who had to get too close to the brain stem to remove the tumor; to the radiation oncologists who had to ensure the targeted radiation and its inevitable "scatter" would steer clear of areas of the brain not affected by the tumor, or optic nerves, or even the ovaries; to the oncologist who planned the chemotherapy and then monitored and adjusted as issues cropped up.

Maybe a bit of "luck" has something to do with it, but skill and experience and education has to count for much, much more. And, I believe, prayer. There were lots of prayers from so many people, many of whom we did not even know.

"Luck" is random, not planned, not purposeful. Getting a tumor is a kind of "bad luck." So should surviving it be a kind of "good luck?" Don't know, but it sure doesn't feel like it to me. Kind of reminds me of that Chinese curse, "May you live in interesting times."

"Lucky" means I won the lottery. A friend commented soon after diagnosis, when I mentioned the very long odds of a child getting a brain tumor, "Why couldn't you have won the lottery instead?" Indeed.

No, I don't view myself as "lucky." Nor could I say I was "happy" when treatment ended. Thankful, yes. Of course. But "lucky" doesn't seem to have a place in my cancer lexicon--it feels inadequate and more than a beat off in describing the cancer journey of a child.

Banana Muffins

I was on quite the muffin kick last school year. This year, not so much. However, I was tempted to turn a banana bread recipe I saw recently into muffins, and the result was so good I thought I'd share the recipe.

Andrew Weil's Banana Bread uses whole wheat pastry flour for a tender crumb. While a bit difficult to find, it's worth seeking out. I tweaked the recipe a bit, cutting down the honey to 1/3 cup and omitting the nuts, obviously. (In my first try, we all thought 1/2 cup of honey was too sweet, especially with really ripe bananas.)

Prepare as written, except divide batter among 12 greased muffin cups. Bake at 350 for 25 minutes.

Update and Perspective on Hospitals

Mom's home, and I have a new appreciation for good health insurance. She's needed a bit of care, and a visiting nurse is dropping by every other day or so to check the incision and assess Mom's progress. So far so good. Really, what do the elderly do without close relatives or decent insurance to ensure a standard of care?

And I have to say that I'm seeing a marked difference in care between either 1) the hospitalized elderly and hospitalized children, or 2)between small community hospitals and major medical centers. I'm not sure where the difference lies, but (and I hope I don't get flamed for this) it seems to me that the nurses are younger and sharper and quicker in the major hospitals. In all DD18's twelve hospitalizations, I almost always felt the medical staff was on their game. Not so at the smaller community hospitals, where my parents tend to go. Or perhaps the difference was that I never left DD18's side. I was her advocate and I felt I was on watch for medical errors. This was partly because of several well-publicized incidents in the last few years at various medical meccas around here...I questioned everything (politely) and felt part of the "team," which was encouraged at her hospital.

It feels differently at the smaller hospitals. Maybe around here they suffer from an inferiority complex, which I can understand. I really do try to be respectful, but I get impatient with vagueness and the constant paperwork (some of this stuff should be computerized, if only to minimize medication errors).

And maybe I'm biased (OK, I definitely am) because DD18 had symptoms that, while not exactly misdiagnosed, were dismissed or minimized by this small hospital six years ago. (I still remember the triage nurse insisting DD18 might have a urinary tract infection while she sat clutching her head in pain.)

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DS16 ended up with strep throat, so now he's on antibiotics and feels much better. I think this bug went through the other two in a milder form earlier this month. At least, it never occurred to me to get them checked for strep. Regardless, they are fine now, and before antibiotics, strep frequently ran its course (with some casualties, I'm sure).

Exercising While Sick

For the high school athlete, late winter means tournaments, playoffs and state or national meets. For my son, unfortunately, this year it means illness. DS16 is suffering from a high fever, sore throat, and chest congestion. While I don't think it's serious, it does mean he has to skip a spot he's earned in a regional meet.

He's been under some pressure from other kids to just show up and run anyway. His coach agrees with me that it's not a good idea in general, and I would never let him try it. He most likely wouldn't do well, probably infect lots of other kids, and more importantly, prolong his illness.

But it does pose an interesting question: should you exercise when you're sick? Well, it depends.

Experts generally agree that with a mild illness, exercise might help you feel better. And some people swear that they "sweat out" the start of a cold by working out. (I think getting some outdoor exercise can help, especially this time of year. Even a brisk walk helps me clear my head, literally and figuratively.)

But is it safe? Turns out there is something called the "neck rule" that you should go by: if symptoms are above the neck (sniffles, sore throat), you can exercise if you feel up to it. But if symptoms are below the neck (aches and chills from a fever, chest congestion), you should skip the workout.

And this is scary: exercising with a fever can worsen your illness and perhaps lead to more serious conditions like pneumonia or even respiratory failure.

As disappointing as it is to miss an event you've trained months for, DS16 is taking a few days off, at least, and using that time to catch up on the schoolwork he's missed while he's been home sick. He'll be well-rested for the start of spring sports, and there will always be more races. Nothing is more important to me than keeping him healthy. And I think he gets it...he has the big picture in his mind.

Now I just hope I don't catch this thing....

What a Week

Trying to take care of older parents while one of them is hospitalized has been all-encompassing. My worry-meter was working overtime as I unwillingly stepped into my role in the "sandwich generation." (Who ever thinks their parents will get old?) Mom was in for back surgery while Dad needed to be supervised even though he'd deny it. But I think it's almost over. Mom should be home tomorrow and will likely recuperate just fine.

Back pain is tricky. I almost didn't quite believe how much pain she was in, and I should know better. Just because you can't see something doesn't mean it isn't there. She developed a synovial cyst in the spine, and the pressure on the nerve was tremendous. Hope I never go through something like that. I *have* had back pain, quite often, and of course it's never due to anything glamorous (tennis match, triathalon--yeah, right). It's usually because I bent down too quickly to pick up a stray sock.

On the home front, everything went well so at least that part of my life was calm.