The Boys, In Brief

More and more each day he doesn't look like a little kid; I'm amazed and heartbroken all at once.  I know the days that I am able to pick him up are numbered; his legs now brush near my ankles as his head, heavy with sleep, rests on my shoulder.

He is exploding with growth in every sense of the word.  I am enjoying him having this last year in Montessori school but am so thrilled with anticipation for what he will experience in next year's Kindergarten class at The Odyssey School.  His body is a spindly beansprout, obviously taking after his father.

He is now 19 months old, the same age Jackson was when he became a big brother.  His solid body definitely comes from my family, namely my father.  The eyebrows are mine for sure (sorry, sweetie!).  He relishes life with his brothers and doesn't have any problems with making his demands heard.

Please, Sir, Can I Have Some More?

Matt went solo for Treatment #3 on Tuesday; he figured if old ladies could be there by themselves that he didn't need to bring his mommy along.  I'm sure he managed to keep busy with his trusty companion, the beloved iPhone.  What can't it do, really?  I'm surprised there's not a chemo infusion app by now...

The medical report, in brief--his white blood cells continue to rally, which certainly contributed to his feeling great during this past week in between treatments.  He worked at the office every day last week, right up until the day before chemo.

While the original understanding was that there would be 4 cycles of chemo (8 treatments), Matt learned on Tuesday he would actually undergo 6 cycles (12 treatments).  Surprise!  Four cycles of chemo is most often coupled with radiation treatments afterwards, so although it is a bummer that Matt will winding up his tour of cancer duty in February instead of December, it is still much more preferable to avoid radiation if he can.


Up until this point, having cancer hasn't been that bad.  Slight nausea? Yeah, but no big deal. Fatigue? Sure, a bit.  Really nothing too terrible.  The third time having poison pumped into your body is the charm, apparently, because Matt came home from his treatment looking yellow.  While this experience previously was more akin to a Thomas Kinkade painting, the past few days have been more like Van Gogh's The Parsonage Garden in the Snow. 

It is common for the effects of chemo to worsen as the treatments add up.  This treatment has hit him much harder than the first two, and the 'fun' of this whole thing is wearing off, to put it mildly.  It is difficult for him to muster up the energy to speak, his body is very sore from the Neulasta shot, the nausea is more pronounced....

I had my photographer in the field (Bohdana) snap this picture of the elusive cancer patient...

One alternative medicine really does help with his side effects (take note, all you lawmakers out there).  Previously, Mom fretted over his disinterest or inability to even have some water (which helps the body to process and flush the chemo drugs out of the system sooner).  This afternoon, Matt managed to sit outside, looking unintentionally but convincingly Hunter S. Thompson-esque, for a bit for a more enjoyable form of medicine.  As I write this, he is eating some pretzels and sweet potato soup.

Here's hoping that he only has a few of these really uncomfortable days each treatment.  Throughout all of this, Matt has always said to spare him an ounce of worry.  The knowledge that so many little kids are subjected to this process is unbearable.  For any of you who feel compelled to do something for Matt, you can donate a toy to your local pediatric cancer center.

Making His Cancer Hurt

Now, I went to Florida under the guise of visiting my brother, but I have a confession: I have been dreaming about the chocolate/lime swirl ice cream cones at Nokomis Groves, a nearby citrus grove.  I woke up on my birthday yesterday, eagerly awaiting an hour where it would not be absurd to suggest ice cream, and checked the computer for the citrus grove's hours.  To my chagrin, they are closed until November.  November?  Darn those citrus groves and their seasons.  Luckily, Dairy Queen was waiting patiently in the wings, with its long hours and convenient location, so I was still able to get my fix and fulfill my promise to the kids.

One of the highlights of my trip (other than being able to peacefully sit on a plane, sipping a coffee drink and reading a magazine) was the fact that I got to be Auntie Annie.  I became a mother before I became an aunt, and I have found it difficult to be a fun aunt when I have my own kiddos to tend to.  I got to read stories, snuggle, play, help a wounded knee--and I loved it.


Bohdana bought Lexie a new bike, which we assembled on our own, and Ty was the lucky recipient of Lexie's old Radio Flyer bike.  We took the kids out to the park for some test drives and playground fun.  Matt didn't join us on this and other outings because chemo makes his skin more sensitive to sunlight, and I can't blame him at all--even though I grew up here it is very difficult for me to be outside, even after the strongest heat of the day has subsided.  Give me Colorado altitude and blue skies any day (and cue John Denver's Rocky Mountain High).

 

The following is a oft-told story in our family, but I'll give a shortened version since some of you may not know it.  Bohdana was originally my friend.  We met and became fast friends as au pairs in England one summer ten years ago.  In a twist of fate, there was one weekend where my parents were over in London for my dad's business trip, and my brother and his friends were heading through London on their way back from traveling around Amsterdam.  We all met up at a historic English pub in London, and I brought along my friend from the Czech Republic, Bohdana.  Matt and Bohdana hit it off, and within just a few months of emailing back and forth, he sold his worldly possessions, quit his job, and moved to Prague to be with her as birds chirped and the sun shone all around him.  I couldn't be happier that my brother married this girl, as my friend is now my sister. 

For my birthday last night, Bohdana and I went out to an English pub (shhh, don't tell Mom that we left Matt to fend for himself!).  Granted, we weren't single and in England in our early twenties, but it was great to sit and drink a pint together and have a bit of the old days together. 

On Friday, Bohdana and I went out to lunch at a great place on the beach; we even saw dolphins frolicking in the ocean.  Mom called home while we were out, and Matt told her he was helplessly lying in a pool of his own filth. :)  He is waited on 95% of the time, and if he does something on his own he'll jokingly say in a pathetic voice that we are 'making his cancer hurt'.

Truthfully, Matt is doing really well.  He took anti-nausea meds just for the first couple of nights after chemo.  Our awesome aunt (guess which one!) sent Matt some natural (albeit illegal) anti-nausea meds, so occasional use of this has made a difference this round as well.  We use the Eating Well Through Cancer cookbook daily--name your side effect, and it has a number of recipes that work to ease symptoms and get good nutrition into a patient.  They are good recipes, too--we all ate the chicken with a sauce made from black beans, peaches, green onions and the sweet potato bisque.  Matt has lost six pounds since the start of all this, but that will level off.  He handled Treatment #2 much better than #1--less mouth burning/soreness, less nausea.  He plans to go to work much of next week, since the Neulasta shot does such a great job of keeping his white blood cell count at a reasonable level.

Matt is so fortunate that he has a wife and family that can do things for him so the only thing he needs to focus on is resting and letting the chemo do its thing.  I was glad to pitch in with the effort, and get some good sister/niece/nephew time in as well.  I love these people; we should all see each other more often, no matter the sickness or health.

Treatment #2

I have broken free from the fog of emergency room visits, an ambulance ride, and pediatric head injury monitoring to bring you this update about Matt.  While I would love to relate the recent dramatic events in my own children's lives, my brother's friends can't seem to stomach reading another line about my mundane life (Hi Ben! When you find yourself on the verge of a kitchen remodel, you better not come begging me for advice!).  I hereby solemnly swear to keep this post strictly Tunheim family-free. 

With the side effects of chemo all but dissipated, Matt spent the last week feeling generally great.  He had a shot of Neulasta, which aims to boost white blood cell counts and reduce risk of infection.  With the flu running rampant through schools (9 kids out of 25 are absent right now in Jackson's 1st grade class--ooops, my apologies, Ben, scrub your eyes!), my mom spent the week stripping Lexie and Ty down in the foyer each day after school, putting their school clothes in an incinerator to destroy any rogue H1N1 cells that may have been along for the ride, and spackling them with Purell.  Think of the scene in E.T. with the government men in the white space suits coming into Elliot's home; you can rest assured that their father having cancer won't have as much lasting psychological effect on these kids as their Nana's antibacterial cleansing regimen.  All in the name of love, though, and Mom is doing a terrific job.

Matt went to the local chemo center today for Treatment #2.  Good news rained down today on all fronts; here are the highlights:

• no bitchy, condescending nurse at this place--the people are a pleasure, and much less waiting around.
• his white blood cell count was superb, which means he responds great to the Neulasta shot.  This also means that on the off-week when he feels good, he can actually go out in public, hug his kids, and live like a normal person.
• the tumors in his neck have been reduced to nubs already from the first treatment.  There was even talk of possibly altering/shortening his course of treatment at the next visit; we'll see how that plays out, but it's fantastic that the Hodgkin's cells aren't putting up much of a fight.

Matt should feel slightly worse this week than he did after his first treatment.  I'm heading to Florida on Thursday to visit, spend time with my awesome niece and nephew, and generally help out.  Now, I'm not one who is generally a stickler for cleanliness (to put it mildly, but how can you be with three boys?  Shit, sorry Ben!).  I am ready, though, armed with a pocketful of Purell and bottles of Lysol.  I will brave the 90-year old shoppers in motorized carts at the local grocery store to pick up whatever sounds good to Matt at the moment. 

I will talk dreamily about unicorns and rainbows with Lexie, and attempt to make my eyes adjust to this color that doesn't make an appearance in my household. 

With that gorgeous face, how could I not be excited?  My next post about Matt should be in a few days, from the front lines.

THE KITCHEN

The kitchen, an oft-mentioned topic earlier on in this blog, hasn't made an appearance for quite some time. As if I had gone through a nasty breakup, I needed a little time to mend my wounded heart and forgive it for its shortcomings (that, and it's still not 100% finished--these days I don't find a whole lot of spare time for staining trim and such). I'll spare you the mundane but terribly frustrating details of what went wrong during the remodel, and share some pictures of the highlights. **disclaimer--any use of the word 'we' in this post largely means 'I', as Sam had virtually no patience for or interest in agonizing over every decision like I did, funny enough. Every conversation about the kitchen went something like this: "What do you think of this sink?" "I like it--done; decision made. Order it." "But what about this...or this....or this? Are you still paying attention?" As such, I take responsibility for the bad decisions as well as the good...**

I freely admit that interior design is not one of my strengths. I looked through kitchen magazines (thanks, Anna!) in order to get a sense of what I was drawn to, and used many elements I gleaned from a couple of favorites. Since our home was built in 1905, we wanted something that would evoke the feeling of a period kitchen, but with modern amenities. And with the space opening up to the dining room and its large built-in buffet across the back wall, we also knew that wood cabinets matching in tone to the buffet would work best.

Here is a before picture to give you an idea of what we started with:

This was our only section of countertop, and a wall separated the kitchen and the dining room.

Here are some after pictures:

A beam supports where the loadbearing wall once stood, and two schoolhouse pendants light the island. The wood floors were mostly great underneath the white tile, but they did have to use a small amount of new wood to patch a couple of spots. I plan on stripping and staining the transom window above the back door, but I don't see that happening anytime soon.

I like these inset cabinets and cup pulls, which lend a period feel:


Choosing the countertops was an easy process; we both fell in love with the easy, warm look of soapstone. Over time, small nicks and scratches give a lived-in feel, which works well with our older home. It has a muted black look (although this picture looks very green), with veins of color weaving through it. Here is a closeup of a more vibrant section of the soapstone:


I'm more attached to the form of the integrated drainboard than the function and don't want things left there overnight. Sam doesn't share the sentiment and has the nerve to actually drain things upon it; I don't think this is a battle I will win.


Another feature I love is the 1 3/4 bowl Blanco Silgranite sink. I had decided on a porcelain sink until I read about these sinks on the kitchen forums at Gardenweb, a site I highly recommend for anyone planning a kitchen remodel. I also find the sink grids really handy; they protect the sink and help keep water flowing down the drain even with a sink full of dishes.



The marble subway tile backsplash is simple but pretty, and since our stove is in the island we don't need to worry as much about the stone etching from pasta sauce or other various substances.


In time, I know that I will admire the kitchen for its positive traits and not see all the flaws. It has already made a large improvement on our daily life as a family, which was the whole reason behind this endeavor. There is plenty of counter space for the boys to help chop tomatoes for a salad or work the mixer for cookies, a lower cabinet with easy access to cups--every morning when Kenyon hears the Vita-Mix start up, he toddles over to the cabinet, pulls out a cup, and asks for his 'smoo-mee'. It works for our family as it is now, and I can also see Sam and I with three teenage boys and a herd of their friends hanging out here. The process was painful, but worthwhile.

Anyone want to come over for dinner? :)

Brotherly Love

A household of three boys comes with more than its fair share of bloody noses, fart jokes, and the like--I'll spare you the gory details. But there are an awful lot of sweet moments, too, especially in the way the older ones treat little Kenyon. They extend patience and kindness towards Kenyon that goes way beyond how they would willingly treat each other.

Kenyon, 18 months
I use all-important Mom Tactic #217 often--instill the stuff that counts in the kids while they are still willing to listen. While the boys are at this impressionable age, I talk a lot about how having brothers is the most special thing in the world. I believe this wholeheartedly, and I want them to truly grow up with an appreciation for each other. I'm not naive enough to think that their surly teenage years are going to be spent with nothing but love and respect for each other, but I do hope that the core values that we drive home early on will be inescapable in their psyches.

I wanted to document a few interactions between the kids so I will be able to look back and remember these sweet times when I have three teenage boys in the house at once. I'll undoubtedly be penniless at that point--if my memories of my brother in adolescence are any indication of what I'm in for (times three), our only hope is for Sam to get a job as an investment banker to pay for the weekly truckloads of cereal delivered to a personal silo. I may also force them to watch these videos after arguments to remind them how sweet and caring they are deep inside, underneath that thick veil of testosterone.

This morning, Kenyon finished his own breakfast of toast, orange juice and a hearty bowl of cereal with strawberries. Not quite feeling satiated, he then took it upon himself to climb up on Alex's lap. The following ensued...

After breakfast, I noticed Jackson on the couch with Kenyon and recorded the following video, which sadly doesn't have great audio. In case you can't hear, Jackson is reading to Kenyon and asking him questions about the book.

Kenyon is 18 months going on 6 years and expects to join in everything his brothers do, including games of tackle football. Yesterday after school, it was Sam and Kenyon vs. Jackson and Alex.

Before we decided to have a #3, we worried that the third would feel left out since Jackson and Alex are so close in age. Now we see he's the lucky one to have such doting big brothers to show him the ropes. Having three has most certainly made our family complete. I can hear my mom's sigh of relief from here. :)

Round One

Matt and Mom made the trek to Tampa for his first go at chemo yesterday. He said he figured the chemo would be the most unpleasant experience he would have that day, but dealing with the chemo nurse actually topped having four different poisons enter his body. Now that he knows he won’t have any allergic reactions to any of the drugs, he’ll opt to have the chemo administered at the local cancer center in Sarasota for the sake of convenience and to avoid being arrested for assault on a medical professional.

With the palm trees in the background, the plaid fedora and minus the medical equipment, the above picture just as easily could have been a glimpse into his 70-year old self lounging by the shuffleboard court at his retirement community. Mom, bored, searched for the chemo center’s wine bar, to no avail.

Matt wanted to fit in with the cool kids at the center, so he went ahead and shaved his head with a razor over the weekend. He certainly looks the part of a cancer patient now.
How does he feel now with the ABVD concoction working its magic? Pretty lousy at the moment—nauseous, weird taste in his mouth, fatigue, diarrhea that morphed into constipation…all was expected, but difficult nonetheless. Luckily, he is keeping up his nutrition—it is at best a futile effort to thwart a Jewish mother and a Czech wife pushing food on you. Recipes from a chemo cookbook have proved useful, but when I am there I will welcome the opportunity to selflessly go on Dairy Queen runs to boost his calories (and mine).

If the chemo is making a 6’ 4” man feel not so hot, I can only imagine what it is doing to the tiny rogue cancer cells. I relish the thought…