If There's Anything I Can Do

Today I walked 5 miles for the Making Strides Walk, which benefits the American Cancer Society.  I did not think I would make the whole 5 miles on my bad hip, but I did it, slowly, my own way, with great friends my sister, and a most beautiful sunshine.  Last year I did this same walk much faster, with much less effort.  This year I needed to get home for some Advil.  Last year I raised money.  This year I made no attempt to do so.  I could've, for sure.  People want to help and don't know what to do.  I'm at a loss for what these people can do.  I get phone numbers from people I like very much but don't know so well, who want to know what they can do. 

What everyone needs to know first and foremost is that I deeply appreciate every hug I get.  That seems to be the best thing to do most of the time.  I've become very huggy.  It's a wonderful connection that stays with me for awhile.  I also apparently like talking endlessly if you have time to listen and I'm on Prednisone.  Most of the time, I need to do anything I can do.  Or at least try!  If there's something you think to do because you see a need, that's amazing.  I was sick one morning at work and a teacher gave up her prep to stay with my kids while I napped in the nurse's office.  She simply came into my classroom and sent me away.  My friends showed up for two days while I was at work and cleaned my house, which was desperately dirty.  The day I came home to fresh smells and order, I was completely overwhelmed.  But you have to know someone very well before you can show up and clean their house.

Now I have a few others wanting to pay a service to clean, which is also wonderful.  Just like the plentiful meals we receive.  And yet on one hand it feels strange.   I would certainly have the same thoughts if any of these beautiful women were sick, I'd want to do something special.  I should just gratefully accept it, and I will.  I believe I'm feeling guilty for receiving a bountiful of riches from amazing and sincere people while there must be many others suffering in silence.  Why am I so lucky and blessed, and how can we make sure everyone gets those offers of "anything I can do?"  (I really appreciate those offers, by the way, I never take them as empty expressions.)  This is what I think about.  Some people are more private than I am, perhaps suffering more.  Are they getting all the good care and concern?  We all keep our eyes open for anyone who needs a good deed.  I hope I notice more often after this whole experience.  I think all I can do is to pay it forward.

As for how we're doing in the Friedman Family Clinic.  Ken's shoulder surgery went well, and if you see him, tell him to wear his sling all the time.  I think he's doing too much.  I'm feeling mostly well.  I have enough energy, certainly, and a huge appetite, which I feed with abandon.  The chemo has a minimal effect on me compared to the Prednisone.  I'm having continuing back and hip problems.  I lost a lot of myself physically while lying in bed most of the time for more than a month.  With Prednisone, I stood up to face the world again, and promptly bent wrong.  Ouch!  The kids are doing great.  You should see Allison's trombone solo in the marching band.  We're so proud of her!  Jason got his braces taken off and he is so handsome.  We're proud of him for being an incredible help to Ken during his worst days.  Jonah is doing well and has agreed to join a support group for kids with parents suffering from cancer.  I think it starts this Thursday, and there will be a concurrent parent group.  He's also quite a pitcher at baseball!  On a sad note, I have a couple extraneous, estranged family members who need to leave this blog.  Good-bye, Mrs. Abrams and Mrs. Fine.

Shout out to Renee, who checks everyday to see if I've written anything.  Email me tonight or tomorrow!  Shout out to Scott, whose remission is on my mind lately.  You always make me smile!
Shout out to Barb, because she's Barb!