Anyone see a stem cell around here?

Let me begin by apologizing for the format problems blogspot seems to be having. I have lost all paragraph spacings, size and photo capabilities, but I think I should post anyway. Will fix it when the fix is available. (Mom, I hijacked it and altered some settings...'yer back to the normal editing. You're welcome. Love, your favorite....)

Beth Israel has been our family's hospital for over 40 years.  My dad had kidney problems (lost one in an accident as a young kid, another was removed with a malignancy. BUT they discovered he was born with THREE, so they hooked that one up and it sustained him for many years, until it died.  Then, after several years of dialysis, he got kidney #4 transplanted from his brother, Paul, who happened to be an A-1 match.  That one sustained him for ten years or so, and then new and unrelated lymphoma was discovered, and he died one autumn morning 1986, right in Feldberg 5 at Beth Israel.   Fast forward to the 1990's and my mom had a quintuple bypass surgery, and in 1992 got a pacemaker at BI.  Subsequent to the bypass, when she was able to be discharged from ICU to a regular room, fate played another of its little jokes and threaded her stretcher right into the same room in which Daddy had died.  Needless to say, she was removed to another room, post haste. On the happier side, three of Lynn's babies came into the world at BI, and eventually little Drew. 


Through it all, the same light blue privacy curtains with a zippy green and cobalt striped plaid has formed a continuum for me, sort of a visual chicken soup for the soul.    When Daddy had dialysis, same curtains.    Seeing them now is somehow a great comfort.  It is invaluable to have somewhere you can reliably turn to for wisdom and help.  Boston has many fine hospitals, but for our family there is never a question.  I have huge faith in BI, and consequently I feel free to make reasonable requests  and just generally feel I am among family. 


Jim was supposed to have the pheresis Monday, but his white cell and platelet counts were way too low so instead they pumped 2 units of blood and one of platelets into him.  We went back Tuesday,  and the story was the same. Still too low! And so it went all week.  Fast after midnight, be there at 8, get a blood test, and tell him it came up short.    Bless him, he stays the course, never complaining.  His arms and legs are so full of needle marks he looks like a lotta miles of bad road. And he has enough alien blood coursing through his veins to nullify his birth certificate.

In terms of frustration, exhaustion and disappointment, this week may have been the worst to date.  One thing we know for sure, the December 1 date for transplant has been pushed back.   On Monday, we go back to repeat the blood tests,  but we really need to redouble our prayers and positive thoughts. We are gathering here for Thanksgiving, with 18 of us bowing our heads. We only have seating for 12, so the words "Stuffing" and "Squash" will take on whole new meanings.  Do you think bleachers would be tacky? Given the foot ball connection, could I make it work?   What if I put a platter of buffalo chicken wings and a keg in the living room and leave the WII on?    I'm undaunted by tradition... outgrew needing to make the puff pastry cornucopia abounding with all kinds of breadeliciousness long ago. Been there, did that, got the tee-shirt.  Eat your heart out, Martha.  Given our housing outlook, next year we may harken back to the Wompanoag tradition of sleeping outside in a tent.  


But for this year, the turkey will tango with the gravy (gluten-free and regular); the stuffing will come in three varieties (vegetable-free, gluten-free and just plain free)   It will be a communal undertaking, with potatoes coming in the door all mashed, and pies galore, both "please refrain from gluten" and "not so much". Overall conviviality will be the order of the day, unreasonable hostess that I am. 

We are blessed with a family who often gets along extremely well, and actually enjoy spending a day together, minus the few who prefer the game on the tube.   Thank you, God, for this family, for keeping us all alive for another year, for uniting us with very special people who carry us through the tough days, and who make the easy days some of the very best of our lives. 


Happy Thanksgiving, you kind folks who follow "A Change of Plan."