I have a dream.

We were shocked to hear the news this morning.

Eve's DMSA renal scan showed that her right kidney is putting up a hell of a fight. While most (or if we're being honest, EVERYONE) thought that the right kidney would have next to no function, it seems that it is carrying 44% of the workload, while the left has 56%. Not too shabby.

The rest of the report reads as follows:
"There is mildly heterogeneous distribution of radiotracer in the bilateral kidneys. There are no major focal photopenic areas noted in the left kidney. The right kidney demonstrates a prominient photopenic defect from the mid aspect of the kidney to the superior pole. An exophytic appearing curvilinear band of tracer activity is noted medially adjacent to the photopenic defect in the superior pole, likely representing some renal parenchyma at the periphery of the known Wilms tumor. In addition, there is a somewhat prominent photopenic defect also noted within the lateral aspect of the interpolar region of the right kidney."

Yeah, I had to look a lot of those words up, too. I *think* this means that the grey stuff we saw in the scan was nonfunctioning, tumorous kidney cells, in the top half of the right kidney. But I'm no radiologist. Just an overtired parent who is trying hard not to unleash her fury on the Sears repairman, should he choose to show up.

It is now 9:27 p.m. We called Sears on Sunday the 10th to schedule an appointment for our leaky washing machine and the first one they had available was today, sometime between 1 and 5 p.m. So, perhaps naively, I waited here from 1 to 5. At 5:15, I called Sears back to ask where my repairman was. I'm sorry you are going through this, Ms. Griffith. Incorrect. You are not sorry and we both know it. It's not our fault; the customer ahead of you had a problem that is taking a lot longer than expected. It is absolutely your fault. Stop giving me this crap. It's [un]common courtesy to give someone a phone call if you can't make your FOUR HOUR WINDOW. He should arrive a litle bit after 6. So you're telling me I stayed inside on this beautiful afternoon waiting for you guys to not show up and now I need to cancel my plans this evening to wait some more? I'm sorry for this inconvenience, ma'am. Stop saying you're sorry! Sorry doesn't do anything. This inconvenience better be reflected in our bill. Umm...I will have the repairman call you.

I know when someone is just trying to get me off the phone.

7:45 rolls around. I asked Matt to call Sears back and see what's going on. We are still on the list to get our machine serviced, but have not heard from the repairman. Matt asks Sears to cancel the appointment and reschedule for tomorrow morning. I am a bit disappointed I won't be here to give my lecture on respecting people's time, but I will be sure to give my mother-in-law instructions to use her cable-television voice. And if anyone has heard my mother-in-law threaten the poor soul on the other end of the Time Warner line if they dare to transfer her one more time or try to sell her any more crap she doesn't want, then you would be shaking in your Uggs just a bit, too.

The man on the line with Sears again apologizes for Matt's circumstances. He says the repairman will call tonight about the appointment for tomorrow. I am not dumb enough to be waiting for this call. Instead, I am channeling all my negative energy into figuring out what the word photopenic means. I am under the illusion that since the answer is not on the first page of Google when I type in "What is photopenic defect?", it must be something of a secret password that is reserved only for radiologists or perhaps freemasons, and now I really need to know. (No dice at the time of posting, though.)

I had the bright idea this morning to take Daniel with us to chemo, because there was no school today. Eve couldn't go to the clinic yesterday since they were closed for MLK day. Because maybe he had a dream that kids with cancer just wanted a day off.

We arrived, and Daniel thought he was in the world's biggest playroom. He would have happily yanked toys from pale, bald kids left and right if there weren't two of us on duty to make sure he didn't get overzealous. It was quite a busy day, and we spent a good portion of the morning in the waiting room. This was clearly Dan's favorite spot. The exam rooms have no toys.

While Nat was very interested in Eve's port access and helped to push in some of the saline and heparin flushes when we brought her with us on Christmas Eve, Dan could care less.

Matt to Daniel: Daniel, look! The nurse is going to give Eve her medicine!
Daniel to Nurse: You're in my way. I can't see Max and Ruby.

Oh well. We tried.

12 down, 0 to go. The waiting game begins.

I think I might have set myself up for this. The first six weeks of chemo flew by. The second six weeks have dragged. I predicted as such the night in December we got the phone call that Eve would need more chemo before surgery. And I know all clocks in Duke will slow tomorrow morning because Eve will be...

Wait for it...


NPO.

We will get to the hem-onc clinic at 9:00 to have Eve's port accessed. Then we supposedly will have an MRI at 10:00 and a CT at noon. But my watch hasn't figured out Duke time yet, so we will see how long before Downstairs Eve re-emerges.

The Sears man better pray he doesn't run into me tomorrow.