"Waking from cancer..."

"Waking from cancer, I fell into an unexpected loss of ambition, and the milestones by which I wanted to engrave my image on the world scattered." 

- Mark Nepo, Seven Thousand Ways to Listen, p. 47

Chloe, tubing the Platte River last week.

My six-year-old daughter, Chloe, was diagnosed with a stage III Wilm's Tumor two years ago this week. Thanks to God, she's doing great. 

The changes that the arrival of cancer brought to our family were immense, innumerable, and life-altering. While we would never invite cancer into our family, my wife and I can readily cite hundreds of positive changes that it brought to our family. Life-threatening illnesses have a way of doing that.

Yet, from my vantage point, my working world has never quite recovered. Maybe that's why the quote from Mark Nepo resonated with me this morning. In so many ways I feel like my pre-cancer goals, my milestones, disappeared and I've spent the past two years trying to figure out where I'm headed professionally.

However, I've begun to wonder if it's okay to not know exactly where I'm heading. Maybe it's okay to just show up each day, ready to learn, ready to question, ready to listen. Present to the possibilities.

An expanding and shrinking circle

Circle inversion by fdecomite on Flickr

[I have a few posts that don't really fit here, but they don't fit on the family-turned-Chloe-update blog.  As work, family, and life are closely integrated right now I'm going to post them here.  I'm feeling the need to write.  Thanks for understanding.]

When Chloe was first admitted to the hospital this summer, my world, or my circle, shrunk to five people - our  family.  Many days it was a circle of three as Henri and Martha were cared for by grandparents, aunt and uncles, or family friends.

In the weeks following, it was challenging to expand that circle.  It went slowly, sometimes trying to include a few friends from church or colleagues from work.  Often times I found myself needing to retreat to my circle of five afterwards to regroup and recharge.

It took at least a month and a half before I was able to expand my circle great enough to include my PLNs via Twitter and Google Reader again.  Even then, most of the time it is still as a "lurker" rather than as a participator.

Last week, Chloe had a tough week.  A heavy dose of chemo on Monday made her feel cranky, tired, and generally out of sorts for the week.  That determined our week as well.  Couple that with a lot of assessments within the walls of my classroom and I have found my circle shrinking again.  

I wonder if this expanding and shrinking circle phenomenon is just a product of cancer in our family or if it has happened before without my awareness.  One more detail that I just need to accept and roll with...

Prayers for Chloe

Chloe, my four year old daughter, was admitted to DeVos Children's Hospital yesterday and had surgery this afternoon to remove a her left kidney containing a large mass.

Details can be found at our family blog: http://blog.hollandanderson.net

Prayers are appreciated!

Henri's book review

A few months ago I shared a book review from my second grade daughter. Now it's Henri's turn.

It should be noted that I disagree with him on one point, he does have too many toys. :>)

Our ten seconds of fame?

Back in October we asked my wife's friend and colleague, who also happens to be the Reading Specialist at our kids' school and a gifted photographer, to take some photos of our family. We had never had photos taken before, and felt like it was something that we should do before our kids got too much older.

Last night, Lara posted some of the photos she took on her photo blog. It was fun to see the snapshots from that moment in our lives (even in the five short months since then the kids have changed and Chloe is walking). After seeing the photos I asked if this counts as our family's ten seconds of fame. If so, it was fun while it lasted.

Slice of Life: Conjunctivitis

"She's heading for the love seat. Quick, grab the drops!" As this is currently the least favorite part of our family's morning routine, I picked up the small bottle with dread. I already knew what would follow. There would be wrestling, crying, tears. Getting eye drops into our 21 month old daughter's eyes is always a challenge.

My wife made it to the love seat first and started to get our daughter to lay down. My daughter knew what was coming next. Sure enough, the crying began and she began to try to hide her face from me. Then she pulled out a new trick: squeezing her eyes tightly shut.

It was then, amidst the tears and crying, that I think she began to think she had won. A slight grin began to form on her face. It was as if she was thinking, "as long as I keep my eyes shut tight, they won't be able to get the drops in." Well, to her credit, she was right.

Yet, perseverance always pays off and when just the slightest opening was available, I squeezed the bottle of pinkeye medication and got a drop in. One down, one to go. The second eye took two drops, but they were in and she was on the way (hopefully!) to clear eyes and happier days.

As a proud parent...

My seven year old daughter, Martha, is featured as one of the "Friday Book Reporters" at her school this week.

Two colleagues and I have been chatting about creating podcasts or vodcasts, possibly about the books they are reading. The technology is there... where's the time?