I just realized that I haven't updated y'all on the latest in the family illnesses.
My stepmother had a scan a little over a week ago. The tumors appear to be shrinking. So now she has time to recover from all the radiation and chemo. The other night my dad was cooking pork chops for dinner. (My stepmother is a mighty fine cook as long as she sticks to Creole cuisine. Other stuff? It's best to eat at the house when my dad is cooking. After he retired from those folks I am forced to send money each month and opened his own consulting company, he suddenly discovered the joy of cooking. If my dad had a blog, it would be pure food porn. Either stuff he made or places he's dined.) Anywho, back to the story. So my stepmother said that while he was cooking, for the first time in a long time she did not feel like fleeing the room. Instead the smell of the food cooking made her hungry. She scheduled for some more scans in four and six weeks. If everything's still shrinking, then they're not going to do anything.
I finally asked my aunt pointblank about her scan from a couple of weeks ago. I knew that they had changed her chemo. Instead of going once every three weeks, she now goes once a week for three weeks and then has a week off. It seems that in her latest scan they discovered that the tumor was growing instead of shrinking. The doctors are hoping that the more aggressive chemo will lead to shrinking. If so, they will then operate around July or so. We were talking about how she still owes me dinner for my fortieth. At the time, we put it off because she was in the middle of chemo. We that treatment stopped, the new school year had started and I was busy beyond belief. By the time I had some free time in my schedule, the cancer was back. We also talked about how her sixtieth fell in the middle of all the cancer madness. For her fiftieth she threw this kick-ass party. Now she wants to throw a 30s/Speakeasy themed party. (Hmmm. I do believe that I toyed with that idea for my fortieth.) We talked about how cool it would be for the women to come as their favorite diva of the era -- Ella, Lena, Lady Day. We both love the clothing of that era. And of course the men would have to wear hats.
Loquita has been staying with my mom over the last couple of weeks. (Loquita would be the Mexican street dog she gave back.) Her friend was heading to his ranch and my mom has issues with Loquita mixing with the other dogs that have been allowed to roam free on the property. Have I ever mentioned to y'all that my mom can be a snob at times? So now every time I talk to my mom, I get to hear tales of how "the dog must go." (As much as I like to complain about my mom, I have been talking to her quite often. Near daily. Because I'm kind of stressed about the job situation. And my mom is one of the few people whom I actually trust when I'm stressed out.) This from the woman who mixes scrambled eggs with the kibble. Because Loquita won't eat it otherwise.
I have yet to call my cousin back. I've got to suck it up and do it tomorrow. The sooner she knows my answer, the better.
And now I am going to stop rambling. I left for work at 7:30 this morning and got in around 9:15 in the evening. The kids had a dance performance across the Bay. (I was within inches of Gavin at one point. Didn't anyone warn him how dangerous that could be? And then a couple of my girls said, "We had our picture taken with the mayor." Ummmm. Where was I?) And some of the parents couldn't come. So Queenie, another teacher and I took the kids to their performance after school and then drove them home. On the drive from the BART station, I got to hear repeated pleas of, "Ms. Empress, please stop at the store. I'm thirsty." This would be within a few blocks of the student's home. My reply? "It is almost 9 o'clock. Don't you have anything to drink at your house? And more importantly, isn't it almost your bed time?" If I had questions about my cousin's son, they were answered this evening in the walk from the Herbst Theater to the Civic Center BART station and then the ensuing ride on the train. I mean there were three adults and five children. I was tired. Mindless TV calls to me.