There Aren't Enough Wristbands

Subtitle: Stop Reading if You Don't Want a Buzzkill

Does anyone else think the wheels have come off? Like...on the world? Does it feel like that to everyone else too? Just me? World ending? Mayan Calendar? Apocalypse now? Anyone?

I'm wearing a wristband to support my friend Sean. He was diagnosed with a very rare, very deadly disease. The websites devoted to this disease don't have any tabs called "Survival Stories". He has been in the hospital for four weeks now and has a ways to go before he can even go home. He's had chemo, full body radiation, and a bone marrow transplant. He has a five year old daughter.

One of my best friends, Nicki, is waiting to hear how bad her mom's cancer is. She was diagnosed as Stage IV back in November. We'll hear tomorrow what the prognosis is and what the treatment options are. Her father-in-law has two aneurysms that can't yet be operated on. Her mother-in-law passed away seven months ago.

My other best friend, Nikki (confusing, no?), has a mom who has been fighting cancer for a very long time, going in and out of "good" times. Nikki's boyfriend's mom has had major health issues and was in the hospital over the holidays.

Half of the people in my department at work (literally) have had close family members get diagnosed with cancer recently. Maybe more - those are the ones I know about.

There are more stories - really important ones - but I'll stop there. Like the old saying goes, "if I had a wristband for every person going through major life trauma, I wouldn't need sleeves on my shirts." Or something.

I keep wondering if it's just a weird coincidence or if my eyes are just open to it more now. Has it always been there? Struggles and heartache and hurt? Have I been too focused on my own business to see it, and now that my blinders are off I'm just seeing it EVERYWHERE? Am I finally at the stage in my life where this is the new normal?

I learned something about myself today. When the going gets tough, I do three things:

1. Workout
2. Clean
3. Teach my kids lessons

Poor kiddos. They made the very, very bad mistake of refusing the chili-mac Chuck was offering to make them for dinner. Chili-mac. I was halfway through the dishes I was doing, after I killed myself at the gym (all safe for my back, don't worry). I haven't done dishes in 2 months. It hurt.

The kids refused dinner. I said they should go to bed without dinner then, if they don't appreciate it. Maybe THEN they'd appreciate it. There are people who can't even swallow WATER right now, that are getting their food from a TUBE in their STOMACH and they would LOVE to be able to eat CHILI-MAC.

The kids freaked out. They didn't have any idea what to do. I texted Chuck to see if we should cave. After a good 15-20 minutes of them believing they were not getting fed, we decided (out loud) that if they didn't want the food we were offering, they could make their own. That wouldn't have been so bad, except they were already all worked up. Totally crying and running around the living room giving us hugs and asking if we loved them and sobbing some more. It was pitiful. Then a funny thing happened. They just calmed down. Jack found pizza in the fridge, Ryker said "k, here what we gonna do. ok. here." He sounded very convincing even though I don't think he was adding value at all. First order of business was figuring out how to open the tupperware. I've failed as a parent. They did figure it out, Jack microwaved it, and they spent the next few minutes commenting on how much they loved it and how appreciative they were. Ryker can't really say the word but he tries hard. "I pre-...pre-...she... it."

I put them in bed and told Jack how I was sorry we had to teach them that lesson but it's important. He asked why I wanted kids. HA. Then he asked how long I was going to live. Umm?

Anyway. Where was I going with this?

I'm sending SO much love and support out to all sorts of people. And I'm grateful that my biggest problem tonight was two healthy kids who refused to eat chili-mac.