Early this morning Elaine came into the bathroom and asked, as she does every single day, "Is it my turn to swim?"
"Yes!" I said, "Today is Thursday, so it's your turn to swim."
"Mom, I know the name of that little girl at swimming now!" she told me.
There is another 3-year-old girl at the swimclub (not in her actual class) who Elaine absolutely loves. While Lucy and this girl's older sister take their lessons, Elaine and she hold hands and look at the fish in the fishtank together and play in the play area.
"Her name is 'Kloopy,'" she said decidedly.
Fortunately for the little girl, her name is Aubrey. We'll have to practice that I guess so Elaine won't persist in calling her Kloopy.
After this conversation, she and Lucy gathered some of their stuffed animals and took them to China in the laundry basket. There they sold them. Is this some sort of white slavery ring? I chose not to look into the matter very closely. But here they are:
After I dropped Lucy off at school, I decided to make a big batch of soup so we could have half and I can bring half to my parents tomorrow. Here is Elaine, helping me. She would much rather do this than play with her toys, which is kind of nice.
After I took the picture, I noticed the proximity of the chopping knife to her. Fortunately, she was too busy putting pieces of celery leaves and bits of potato into each measuring cup to notice.
That's about it so far today. We are all a little discouraged. I talked to my dad this morning on the phone. My mom started radiation this week because, while getting her MRI on Monday, a random doctor--not someone on her team--looked at her images and called her into his office right after. He said that it is absolutely urgent that she begin treatment immediately for the tumor on her spine or she will soon be paralyzed. As she told me, "I may be gone in a few months, but I don't want to be paralyzed as well. Bed pans--no thanks!"
But the radiation has been extremely painful so far, and in addition, the kind of cancer she has is still to be determined. She has already had one unsuccessful biopsy. Yesterday the doctor laid out about four different ways they can try again to get a biopsy--each sounded more painful than the last, and she is already in horrible, crippling pain. As well, the dreaded word "chemo" has been thrown into the conversation; she's had two rounds of chemo in her life already and didn't plan for any more.
So when I said we're a little discouraged, I guess that means a lot discouraged. A friend gave me this verse, and this is what I'm holding on to today: Psalm 34:18 "The Lord is near to the broken hearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit." It is very comforting to know that the God of the universe is near, personally, to us, even as our hearts are breaking.
He is just as good as ever.