Rain On

There is thunder rumbling outside and the sky is turning dark.  There is a storm brewing out there, and that is just fine with me. 

 

A Friday night thunderstorm is the perfect way to end this week.

 

Our dryer broke.  All the little lights come on, but when I push the start button, the dumb thing goes "beep beep."  Every. Single. Time.  "Beep beep."  "Beep beep."  "BEEP BEEP."  My techno-nerd hubby used the Google and got some ideas.  He ordered a new part, which was delivered today.  So far, no luck.  "Beep beep."

 

In the meantime....it's no secret that I detest laundry even when all the machines are working.  You can only imagine the joy it has been to drape each individual sock, towel, and little-boy undie over the shower, tub, trampoline, swing, fireplace, and finally, my friend Krystal's drying rack.  If you see us out and about and we look a little wrinkled and/or crusty, you'll know why.

 

The location for the clinical trial has been narrowed down for me because nothing else is available.  Looks like I will be traveling to Oklahoma, where the wind comes sweeping down the plain!  The first step is to meet with the trial doctor to discuss my history and make a final decision about my eligibility to participate.  That meeting will take place on Monday.

 

Although I fully realize that this clinical trial has the potential to be the hope that I have asked God for, I am having a hard time being cheerful about it.  For one thing, I will endure a rigorous screening process made up of multiple tests that for some reason can not be all done in one trip to Oklahoma City.  I do not understand this.  For another thing, it is possible that I will go through the screening and randomization processes, only to be informed that I can not take the trial drug.  "But here", they will say.  "We would like to offer you some lovely Taxol as a consolation prize.  100% guaranteed to make your hair fall out! Tried and failed to cure cancer!  Congratulations!"  That would be neat-o.

 

By the way, in case that scenario should occur (and there is a 1 in 3 chance that it will), this is what I will do:  WALK AWAY.

 

I am not doing chemotherapy again.  5 drugs in 3 years.  I guess you can safely say that I am not chemo-compatible.

 

Here is another reason that I hate this week.  This conversation happened:

 

Little Middle:  What time will Mr. Dad be home?

Me:  Around 5:30.

Little Middle:  Can I call him and see what time he will get here?

Me:  No!  I just told you when he'll be here!

Little Middle:  (making pouting face and crossing arms across chest)

Me:  You sure are anxious for Daddy to get home.  (Teasing)  Why does he get to be the fun parent?

Little Middle:  (Serious face) Because you're always sick.

 

Ugh.  He said it the honest, this-is-what-I-really-think way that kids say stuff.  He wasn't trying to be hurtful. Just real. 

 

Then today, we had another big blow--one I'm not quite ready to write about, but you can believe me when I tell you that I deserved that glass of wine I drank at almost-5:00.

 

AND my darling cowboys ran off to their friends' house with my laptop and all of the leftover Chick-Fil-A ketchup and Buffalo sauce packets in their backpack.  You know, for the monster movie they were making.  Special effects...very, very special.

 

I hope it rains.  I hope the heavens open wide and it pours down.  I hope there is thunder and lightning to match my mood.  I love a rainy night....but not a stormy life.