We're still trying to decide between The Scholarship School and The Other School. (Well, there's a third attractive option as well as a very attractive waiting list option, but we're putting them out of our minds in order to simplify the decision.)
Seems like a no-brainer to choose The Scholarship School. Guaranteed free tuition for eight semesters as long as her GPA stays above 3.2. She can go abroad for a semester, and it's paid for. She can cross-register at other area colleges, including at The Other School, and it's paid for. She has no work-study. Any scholarships she might receive (which we won't know about until June) can be used towards room and board because of the laws concerning merit aid, which isn't true for grant monies.
The problem is that she loves The Other School. It's a beautiful campus, and some might argue "more elite." It feels like a victory to her to have been accepted, especially after the worries about her brain cancer and some of the possible problems she might have had with cognition. (And might still have, some day in the future.)
But it's so expensive. And we have other kids that will go to college. The math just doesn't make sense. Their view of what we can afford and what they think we can afford are very different. She will still go to its Admitted Students Day (even though I wonder if that's wise), if only to try to convince herself that she's better off at The Scholarship School.
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
Admitted Students Day
We spent yesterday at The Scholarship School. It was Admitted Students Day, and although DD18 was familiar with the school, it was a chance to see the school in all its glory. Most schools, I think, put their best foot forward for these events. Lawns are mowed, flowers are blooming, and everyone is really nice. They are trying to woo the student, and separate the parents from their hard-earned dollars. Well, that's not our problem here, so we could relax and let them try to impress us.
The Scholarship School is a Geek School. It has no pretensions to coolness, unless it's in a nerdy way. It has few winning sports teams, at least at the moment, so you wouldn't attend this school for its sport scene. But it does pride itself on easy access to professors and opportunities for undergraduate research. I do think DD18 would be happy there...the social pressures would be mimimal and most students enroll for the academics. It does not have a reputation as a party school, although I'm sure parties can be had if you want them.
We have another Admitted Students Day at another school in a few weeks, and then DD18 will have to make a decision. I know she's not looking forward to it...it feels like a life-changing big deal, but I tell her not to stress over it. It's a good problem to have, considering the kinds of problems she could have.
The Scholarship School is a Geek School. It has no pretensions to coolness, unless it's in a nerdy way. It has few winning sports teams, at least at the moment, so you wouldn't attend this school for its sport scene. But it does pride itself on easy access to professors and opportunities for undergraduate research. I do think DD18 would be happy there...the social pressures would be mimimal and most students enroll for the academics. It does not have a reputation as a party school, although I'm sure parties can be had if you want them.
We have another Admitted Students Day at another school in a few weeks, and then DD18 will have to make a decision. I know she's not looking forward to it...it feels like a life-changing big deal, but I tell her not to stress over it. It's a good problem to have, considering the kinds of problems she could have.
Thursday, April 8, 2010
Catch-Up: College
This blog has lagged a bit while we've gone through that agonizing time known as college acceptance season. I haven't talked much about college on here. In general, I haven't let myself think too far ahead. It's just the way I try to stay sane.
After all, last year happened. Just as DD18 approached what is arguably the most critical time in her high school career (second half of junior year), she needed more brain surgery. Her toughest courses were on hold, AP exams were on hold, SAT testing was on hold: we just didn't know how it would play out. But she came through that with grit and determination and plowed through everything doggedly, as if she had a lot to prove. This cancer thing and its hateful side effects were not going to stop her if she had her way.
I think we can breathe now. She did well. She did very well. We are so thankful...in the toughest, most competitive college application year ever, she has very good choices (even great choices). She even has an offer of a full scholarship at one school, where they acknowledged her "significant personal resilience." I cried when I read that.
We never had any expectations...we thought it would work out, that she'd hopefully end up going somewhere close to home. There are a lot of choices around here, and there are a lot of ways to live your life. She didn't lose sleep over this phase in her life. I think she was just going to accept whatever happened. What other choice do any of us really have?
She might have made it look easy. I know she never complains about the hand she's been dealt, and it's been so hard keeping my mouth shut when I listen to other parents whine about the unfairness of certain teachers or coaches or other "obstacles" put in their kids way.
I don't know what the future may bring, but I do know I am very grateful for the opportunities presented to her. And I know she will take full advantage of everything offered her, because she has a deep appreciation for where she's been and how far she's come.
After all, last year happened. Just as DD18 approached what is arguably the most critical time in her high school career (second half of junior year), she needed more brain surgery. Her toughest courses were on hold, AP exams were on hold, SAT testing was on hold: we just didn't know how it would play out. But she came through that with grit and determination and plowed through everything doggedly, as if she had a lot to prove. This cancer thing and its hateful side effects were not going to stop her if she had her way.
I think we can breathe now. She did well. She did very well. We are so thankful...in the toughest, most competitive college application year ever, she has very good choices (even great choices). She even has an offer of a full scholarship at one school, where they acknowledged her "significant personal resilience." I cried when I read that.
We never had any expectations...we thought it would work out, that she'd hopefully end up going somewhere close to home. There are a lot of choices around here, and there are a lot of ways to live your life. She didn't lose sleep over this phase in her life. I think she was just going to accept whatever happened. What other choice do any of us really have?
She might have made it look easy. I know she never complains about the hand she's been dealt, and it's been so hard keeping my mouth shut when I listen to other parents whine about the unfairness of certain teachers or coaches or other "obstacles" put in their kids way.
I don't know what the future may bring, but I do know I am very grateful for the opportunities presented to her. And I know she will take full advantage of everything offered her, because she has a deep appreciation for where she's been and how far she's come.
Wednesday, March 31, 2010
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.
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.
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
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.
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.
Monday, March 22, 2010
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.
Tuesday, March 9, 2010
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.)
---------
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).
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.)
---------
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).
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