Piles of news for today...

Sat down and watched an hour of utterly mindless television tonight.

With my wife.

We talked about nothing of consequence.

That was amazing.  

So we had two more appointments today, and heard back from the doc's about the Spinal Tap.  All of the information to follow is completely anecdotal and subject to any sorts of grandiose embellishment, due to the fact that I was busy educating the youth of tomorrow whilest Shelley was slaving away doting upon dearest Amelie.

First up we had an audiologist's appointment to test any possible hearing loss with Amie, as well as to create a baseline in case there's any hearing loss during the chemo treatments.  All that's well and good, but Shelley had tested Amie's hearing the day before.   She did this by kneeling behind her while she was in her high chair and whispering quieter and quieter while giving her basic instructions like "Pick up your foot" and "Rub your tummy" and "Touch your head".  Not sure why we even went to the appointment, because she can hear better than any of your dogs can.  Nonetheless.

We then had an appointment with Dr. Maher, the neurosurgeon who took out the tumor.  They were very happy with her recovery thus far, and other than a little fluid build up in the back of her head (you really don't want to hear about that do you?) she's looking good.  

Shelley asked about the size of the tumor, just for the gratification of those of you who like weights and measures, and about the rate of growth.  He said it was roughly the size of a golf ball when he went in. He said that it would have been undetectable in size only 6 months ago, and was growing aggressively fast.  Hmmm...  

We also heard back about the Spinal Tap.  The test came back clear of any sign that the cancer has spread, which is awesomely good news.  

In case you haven't noticed, I'm having a hard time not making Spinal Tap references every time I write that.  It's much like Monty Python... you either think it's brilliant, or you are utterly confused why anyone would find it funny in the least.  I think you can all imagine where I fall on this one.

So now, a final anecdote that I have to share, and hope that I don't offend anyone for the myriad reasons this might offend someone.

We got a note recently from a good friend who said that a Mass was being said at a Catholic elementary school where the person works.  She noted that 130 kids would be praying for Amelie.  I showed Shelley the card, and it dislodged a memory from her time in elementary Catholic school.  (I did 12 years, she did 8).

A Nun at her school (St. Mike's in Southfield) had told her as a child that it was important that the children pray, because God listens to the children's prayers first.

So of course my off-kilter mind comes up with this image where there's this long, long line of people waiting to deliver prayers to God.  God's up on this dais, spotlight shining down, long white gown flowing...white beard...  He's sitting on a throne, and there's all these stanchions (those velvety rope things that used to be in old banks) that are guiding the line back and forth all over the place as people wait to deliver the prayers.

All of a sudden this pack of 130 Kindergarteners pours into this scene.  Anya's a Kindergartener, so I am acutely aware of their energy and their.....disregard for rules?  Anyway.  They flow through the doors and just start tearing through the lines, all pushing and smashing into the patiently waiting people.  They're all yelling "God...hey God...I just need to tell you something...God...GOD...Listen, GOD!" and they're all yelling on top of each other in this completely solemn place. (white marble columns are present of course)

So God is forced to stop what he's doing to attend to the needs of the Kindergarteners which are now swarming all over the dais, climbing up the throne, peeking under the gown, playing with his beard, hugging his legs, poking his belly...just swarming all over like some scene from March of the Penguins.

God of course is patient, because they're just doing what Kindergarteners are supposed to...and after all he made them like that, right?  So he's patient and kind and listens to them and then shoos them all back out the door with promises of candy if they go back to what they are supposed to be doing, whatever that is.

So yeah.  Hopefully you found that as amusing as I do, and weren't offended by the slightly less than sacred tone.

Night all.