Lori VIII

When daughter Kate went down the aisle on my arm in 2012, she married into an abundant clan from Cortland, New York.  Owen has six siblings, now scattered to all time zones, but his folks still live in Cortland and exert parental gravity at Christmastime to draw them all home with their spouses and offspring.  Given that KayO and infant Jack live down the road from us in Mill Valley, and that we get to raid their fridge almost as often as they raid ours, we concede this one week a year to the Learys and summon Santa on New Years Day instead.

So, at Christmas Lori and Tucker and I head off into the Wild West and tramp around together in Death Valley or the Channel Islands or the Navarro River Valley.  This year we booked a beachfront cabin in Samoa (yup, Samoa) California — on the peninsula that defines Eureka’s harbor — but in the event made a last-minute cancellation and stayed home.

Eleven days ago Lori noticed an unwelcome swelling on her neck.  Dr.

Chan suMmoned us to San Francisco, palpated the lump, diagnosed it as a tumor, and decided with regret that the chemo wasn’t working.

Fortunately, he is Dr. Chan, so dialed up the radiation team on his cell phone, expressed appreciation for their busy schedule, and told them Lori would be in their clinic within the hour.  He also wrote a prescription for a new form of (oral) chemo before we were out the door. Lori started radiation therapy on December 21 so is now getting zapped and poisoned.

We held out hope for our Samoa getaway until the last minute but this new regime has summoned the return of Mr. Barfman.  And we still pour in meds to keep the pain at bay. Bless his heart, Tucker assumed Nurse Bill duties, prepared us yummy meals, tidied up unattended piles, and generally gave me a spell of RandR.

Lori somehow remains resilient through this bleeping mess, swallows all the pills which aim to tame the side effects, and wishes with all her heart to have the energy to return calls and accept offers of visits.

The traveling squad returns soon for our days-long Christmas gathering, a week late but who cares.

In church on Sunday I lifted Lori’s name during prayer time and then others in our beloved community lifted their prayer names, too.

Lori.  Lori.  Lori.  Lori.