This blog started out as a chronicle of my son's fight with neuroblastoma cancer. Fortunately he has been doing so well that there has been less and less to chronicle regarding this disease. I have decided to expand this blog such that it will cover all of my family. Don't worry though, the information passed will still be filtered by my rather large, impressive, and completely insane brain. So grab some pancakes, and buckle up.

Thursday, May 17, 2012

5-16-12

He is only 7.  Let me tell you two things that suck.

The first is that Cole asked a pointed question whose answer could only be fully given to someone with knowledge of chaca chaca boom boom (chaca chaca boom boom is the grown up word for making the beast with two backs).  Normally I would just use my powers of distraction and avoidance; however, I caught my self for one of those moments.  You know those moments that I am talking about.  It is that moment that takes, in reality, a fraction of a second but in your brain takes hours.  If it were a movie, you would have a conversation with your two selves in order to make the needed decision.  You see while I know that I will have to have the conversation with him that involves where to stick it, that conversation is not supposed to happen until after he and his friends have had the chance to look at an entirely inappropriate amount of porn.  What gave me pause however, was the fact that I cannot answer one simple question.  What if I don’t get a chance to have that conversation at all?  What if we lose?  WTF?

The second thing that sucks is this.  If you know that someone is going to hit you in the stomach with a 2X4, you can kind of prepare for it.  You can do your best to make sure that you take the hit in such a way that you protect, as much as possible, your vital organs.  Every time that my phone rings and I see that it is Kaiser, I have that moment before I answer the phone to get myself ready to take the hit.  I am used to it, and have gotten to the point where they can’t hurt me anymore.  But now imagine that out of nowhere someone randomly takes a shot at your stomach with a 2X4.  That would suck, huh?  I, randomly, get hit by that 2X4.  It might be something that I see (the outline of his tubes), something that happens (His legs start to hurt)……, or something that is said (like when I was talking to Oliver and I said that Cole is pretty cool and that when I grow up I want to be just like him.  To which Cole responded, “I don’t think you want to be like me.  For one, I have cancer.).  He is only 7.    

Well, please raise your glasses and toast Cole, the next Jim Duggan. 

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