Scott

Children Of The Story Teller

I keep track of my miles per gallon. The drive to Montana for my dad’s memorial service would be an exception.

It was a little disappointing when the speedometer quit working somewhere near Othello, Washington. Oh, well…. I have a new GPS that will tell me my speed and the posted speed limit. I just wouldn’t be able to track the mileage.

The fuel gauge has not been trustworthy. It was more of a general indicator. When the needle remained on the “E” after a fill up, I thought we just might have to stop at every second or third town for gas, as my older son, Brandon and I would be basically flying blind. But, somewhere along the road, the fuel gage came back to life and was much appreciated.

My best with this 1957 Chevy has been about 18 MPG, although the Smiles and goose-bumps per Gallon are without question – a lot higher.

In Spokane, we stayed the night at my half-brother, Doug’s house. It was great to visit and catch up with him, Megan, Jed, and Emma.

In Kalispell, everyone stayed at Barb’s house. It was full of half and full brothers and sisters, nieces and nephews. Most were nearly strangers. Some had never met. It’s funny how that can happen. I was glad for the unique gathering, sad that our dad couldn’t have been there with us.

*There was a surprise birthday cake, like an indoor barbecue*

It was the largest assembly of siblings I have been a part of since my mom married Mr. Kinkade. There were nine sisters and brothers including half’s together at that time (about 45 years ago).

My total lifetime (known) sibling count I believe is – myself, two sisters, five half brothers, one half-sister, four step brothers and five step sisters. Some of the steps I have never met.

My Cancer Update: The blood test results that came in just after the last bone marrow biopsy said the protein level is stable at 1.2, same as the last test. I’m counting the stable report as more good news.

Some Good News

I went to my Oncologist appointment yesterday expecting bad news from my recent bone marrow biopsy. Usually if there is no bad news, I will get a phone call saying, “See you in three months.” The call I got this time said “The doctor wants to see you.”

Multiple Myeloma cancer causes bone marrow to make too many plasma cells. My first bone marrow biopsy was almost a year ago, August 2011. At that time, my plasma cells were at 30% (normal is 5%). The biopsy I had about three weeks ago shows plasma cells at 20%.

I asked the Doc what might have brought those numbers down. She said “The treatments,” which took me by surprise because I’m not taking any treatments. “The radiation treatments you had a year ago for the Plasmacytoma,” she said, “may be what brought the numbers down.”

With this cancer, I also have something called 17P Deletion. This bumps my run of the mill Multiple Myeloma up to a more aggressive, more dangerous category. My Oncologist previously told me I had it, but this biopsy shows no trace of it. Gone?! She said it was probably a, “sampling error” because this doesn’t just go away.

I think she wanted to reserve the right to not be surprised if it shows up again in a future biopsy, but for now, the test says it’s gone. She will call me with the protein numbers they always check, when those results are available (from yesterday’s blood tests).

Thank you, God, for maybe a little more time, and thank you, friends for all your prayers.

Road Trip

Diane and I got home Friday morning just as the sun was rising. Thursday late evening we decided to keep driving instead of finding a bed for the night.

We were on a road trip to do a little living while things are good. A couple more days in southern California would have been nice, but it felt good to head home.

In Anaheim we drove past the apartment building where we lived forty years ago. FORTY YEARS?! Yes, forty years and twenty pounds ago. We found and ate dinner in the restaurant where I proposed.

We looked something like this when I proposed

It wasn’t as nice as we remember. It wasn’t the same building, it wasn’t even in the same town, but it was still Don the Beach Comber’s.

We reunited with some old and dear friends, even Disneyland felt like an old friend. Napping on Laguna Beach felt warm and relaxing, and the Sawdust Festival and the Art Festival were fascinating.

*What happens when someone leaves the keys in their car*

There was some really beautiful artwork there, but you can also take the silliest notion, put it on a clean white background, frame it and call it art (someone will apparently pay a lot of money for it).

The Laguna Beach Pageant of the Masters was pretty amazing. I wish they would allow non-flash photography (as opposed to NO PHOTOGRAPHY).

Diane had tickets to a taping of THE PRICE IS RIGHT Thursday morning. She got on the laptop to verify things and discovered that taping had been cancelled so we slept in and left at check out time.

The doctor’s office called my cell phone Thursday on the drive home; my first contact since the bone marrow biopsy. I have an appointment Monday at 2:pm.

No Bad News Is Just Like Good News

My Aunt Florene called to say my 99 year old Aunt Emma has recovered enough from her broken hip to return home. Most old folks going home from the care home are probably going to their eternal home, not back to S. River Street. Good for you, Aunt Em.

I called my Oncologist today to hear my test results. She said the full skeletal survey looked good, no tumors found (every time I feel a tweak in my back now I wonder if it’s a tumor). The MRI showed a severe compression fracture @T8 – but no change from the last MRI.

The 24 hour urine test shows some protein, but she didn’t sound concerned. She said to wait for bone marrow biopsy at the end of June, which will tell the real story.

My three Canfield brothers each called today to tell me our dad died. He was 80 years old, living (dying) in the Philippines. I don’t remember him as a dad; he and my mother divorced when I was three years old.

I knew who he was, I would see him now and then, but I got to know him as an adult when I worked in his cabinet shop after Diane and I were married.

It was odd to be daily in the company of a stranger who was my father. I’m glad I got to spend time with him, and got to know him some..