11/17/12

There are two things that I wonder about (cuz I done already figured the rest out).  First is who is that guy Wes?  I mean seriously.

The second is ?  These are things that make me say hmmm (if this were a video blog you would see me with ridiculously long prosthetic fingers)

So………………Ollie is fat and phat.  He is officially mobile, agile, and versatile.  His favorite game is the classic crawl for the most disgusting and/or dangerous thing in the house and try to get to it before mom and/or dad and/or the dog and/or our stoner neighbor (wait he might be the disgusting and/or dangerous thing……wait why is he in my house……) and/or the and/or guy and/or gets to him as he cackles.  Great fun.  Still waiting on tooth number one.  Still waiting on him being able to sleep through the night (although in all (or at least “all” as I see it) honesty I still am waiting on being able to sleep through the night myself). 

Logan was going to have surgery (we earned some frequent medical miles through Kaiser so we decided to have some work done on) on Monday but the surgeon had to reschedule him so we will not have a cranky (well at least not crankier than normal) 4 year old on Thanksgiving.  He goes in in January which is good.

Cole continues to row his boat down the turbulent waters that is the chronic (disease not the other one).  Some days up, and some down.  More up than down though.  We have switched one of the antibiotics for another.  The one that we discontinued had some potentially nasty side effects.  This new med does not have the side effects but it is especially cruel in another way.  Let me splain.  My kids and my wife do not actually have blood.  No, their veins contain 2% cow’s milk.  They drink it with every meal, they bathe in it, they sleep in milk beds, and I even saw them chanting to a glass of it once.  This new med of Cole’s does not absorb into the body if there is dairy in his sytem.  If he drinks milk, then he has to wait 6 hours before he can take the medicine.  Once he takes the medicine, he has to wait 2 hours before he can ingest his holy fluid.  Now he has to take this med twice per day, and it is an oral med so he has to be awake.  All you math majors (drum majors, army majors, and major pains in the ass can also play) try and figure out how to give him his meds and still let him drink milk at all 3 meals. …(While we are waiting for them to crunch the numbers, answer me this: How does Alabama score 48 points when their QB throws for less than 200yds and their RB runs for less than 100?)… now try and do it with two meals, and remember that he sleeps from 8pm-6am.

On another front I am transitioning away from being a legal secretary and I am becoming a paralegal.  There are many good things to this switch.  First is that my knees were killing me.  B is that I will be a work from home contractor so I don’t have to wear pants any more.  And 3 is that paralegal is close to paramilitary which basically means that I am a badass.

Dear new Red Dawn creator, when someone makes something that sucks so awesome please leave it alone.  I have not seen your new movie but based solely on the trailers, your movie will suck in a very mundane way.  Come on now movie person(s) you are better than that.  Don't allow yourself to suck in a mediocre and non-unique fashion.  If you are going to suck, suck hard; suck well: and most of all suck uniquely.  

I guess that is all for now.  I will see you when I see you, and until that day please raise your glass and toast Oliver, Cole, and Logan your news channel 4 team.

Stupid Little Bug

You know what I love?  I love sports.  It is awesome and I wish that I could have a job where I was involved only in sports.  If anyone out there knows of an opening for such a job, please let me know.

You know what I hate?  I hate the entire family of fast growing myco bacteria.  Additionally I hate cancer, and I hate my son being in a hospital room (although he is with Unca Chris so he is, I am sure, having the time of his life and is probably about to be kicked out of the hospital of troublemakery), and I hate cancer, and I hate that my son missed his soccer game, and I hate cancer, and I hate that the baseball season is not over, and I hate cancer, and I hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate all work and no play makes Jack a dull boy hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate that I can't fix him.

This is stupid.  I am tired of getting kicked in the nuts.  I don't aks fo much.  All I want is for my family (that includes the chickens) to be healthy.

Enough feeling sorry for myself.

I have an admission to make.  I have relapsed.  For any of you fighting addiction  you know how hard it is to quit.  I had kicked my nasty habit for an entire season, and I thought that I was in the clear.  But one night I was sitting around flipping channels when I just happened to land on the right channel at the right time, and all my previous work was for naught.  So I find myself back to being addicted, and must ask myself, what would Gemma do?

GI Joe

Well at least now we know, and knowing is a portion (can't remember the exact percentage) of the battle.

They finally figured out why Cole has been having all these fevers.  He has developed a bacterial infection that is in his bloodstream and has infected his lungs.  Now before you freak out too much, we managed to catch it early enough that we can treat it.

The bacteria (who I have affectionately named "stupid son of a bitch how dare you fuck with my kid."  and I am going to go all Gemma on its ass) is part of a family (I think one of the 5 out of NY) of bacteria that can be found in dirt and in water and in air and in everything that touches us.  Now us non-chemo types are able to effectively and efficiently tell Mr. bacteria to take a flying leap into a giant pool of hot dinosaur poop.  Unfortunately Cole is not so lucky.

So Mr. B is here to stay for a while.  You see, he is a slow growing bacteria so apparently it takes longer to completely eradicate the bastard.  By longer I mean that Cole will be on antibiotics for......wait for it.......keep waiting for it.......quit complaining it''''''s not like you have anything better to do.............almost there............here it comes............at least six months, and possibly up to a year.  SUPER (please insert a slight lisp on the S and hold the R for at least 4.32344530948504983045984 seconds)!!!!!!!!!

The crazy thing about this whole banana operation is that it was kind of dumb luck and crazy good timing that we (I say we in order to be inclusive.  I know I am not a doctor but since my premium pays their salary, I can say we.) were able to figure it out.  I have been told by a guy with a clipped ear (not joking) that this bacteria does not usually grow in the normal culture bottles that they use, so it was sheer dumb luck that any cultures grew at all (it was the first one they drew way back at the beginning of last (i.e.g. crappy) week) and it explained why only one culture grew.  They would probably still be TSing Cole had he not had his scheduled CT scan today.  The CT showed images consistent with this type of bacterial infection.

After they figured this out they/we decided to take out Cole's central line.  They replaced it with an IV in his hand, and after they get on the front end of the infection (a few days from now) they will install a pic (k?) line in his arm instead of the central line in the chest.

I know that in the bigger scheme of things 20 months is not very long, but Cole has had his line in for 20 months and I have gotten to the point that I don't even remember him not having it.  It looks strange to see his chest without those damn lines and without that dirty orange pouch around his neck.

Fever is still high (peaked at 104.2), so we have turned the room into an icebox.

Cole will be here in the hospital for a few days, and then should be able to go home, and pretty soon get back into school.

Sorry if this post is more of a standard (well at least as standard as I can be) update, and lack my usual wit and elegance, but I am tired of this crap and don't feel whitey.

Maybe tomorrow will be more fun.  In the meantime please raise your glasses and toast Cole, badass mofo who don't take no crap off of nobody.

Crappy Week

When last we spent time together, our hero had just gotten out of the hospital.  We pick the story back up on Friday evening.  I drove home from work excited to put this insane week behind me and relax (as much as that is possible with 3 boys, 3 chickens, and an epileptic dog with allergies).  We normally go to SJ for family pizza night, but that had been cancelled.  I just wanted to go home, play with the wife and kids, and then after they go to bed find a reason to go across the street so that I can get free booze at Rossi's Pub.  As I am sure you can predict (due mostly to the fact that this entire blog is all about crap that I do not want), my (I think) simple (I tried not to parenthizie, but I just can't help myself) relaxation (now this is getting silly.  someone should talk some sense into me) plan (it is becoming difficult to even get through this sentence) was not to be.  My fatal error was that I failed to realize that weeks start on Sunday (despite the confusing title of weekend)(yes weeks do start on Sunday.  Look at a calendar.  This one was your fault.  Stop interrupting).  Of course when I got home Cole had a fever.  Of course we had to go to the ER (driving to Santa Clara at 6:30 on a Friday = crappy).  Of course we did not get home until 11:45.  Of course I am not done.

Again to recap.  Weeks do not end until Saturday is over.  Now, on Saturday the sun was shining and Cole was feeling good.  So good that he was going to play in his soccer game.  We were playing at the house.  Some of the neighborhood kids came over to play in the tree house and chase chickens.  All in all it was a great morning.  Then, the week did not end.

(Author's Note: If you have read this blog at all you realize that I have only a very tenuous grasp of truth and reality.  However, the next paragraph is completely real and serious)

I was holding Oliver in the back yard and talking with Frank (neighbor) and Elisa.  I was pointing at the garden as I was saying something about chicken proofing the garden when all of a sudden, Oliver moved and  he slipped out of my arms.  He fell to the ground, landing on the cement.  It looked like he hit head first and there was a loud banging sound that just might haunt me forever.  We rushed to the ER, but we are so used to ER visits, especially how long they take, that Elisa just dropped Oliver and I off and took Cole and Logan to the soccer game. (A small geographic explanation is warranted here.  We usually go to Kaiser in Santa Clara for Cole, but for normal ER stuff we can go to a closer Kaiser.  In this instance, we went to SSF).

(Enough of the super serious.  Bring on the irreverence)

The ER at SSF (to which I have now been 4 times.  Once when Cole tried to take a short corner in the apartment and ended up headbutting the corner of the wall, once when Elisa had an ear infection, once when Elisa obtained a freak redwood splinter under the fingernail, and now this) is old and small (the entire ER could fit inside the waiting room of the Santa Clara ER) and has no TV.  So there I was (I forgot to mention that since it was hot outside when I bounced the baby, he was only in a diaper) in the ER registration line with a screaming half naked baby and boy did I feel like white trash.  All I needed was to be wearing a stained wife beater and be drunk (which of course I wasn't.  I should have, per Papa Sam, been holding some booze so that people would think I was drunk and not just stupid).  Some nurse clearly felt sorry for me and rushed me in, completely cutting in front of the lady who was about to puke into her purse, or on the registration lady, or on any one of us.  They took us back to a room and Oliver took one look at all the fun things in a hospital room and immediately stopped crying and started grabbing for things.  The nurse did some quick vitals and then Dr. Skater came in (please note that his name was not really Dr. Skater, but he was wearing vans) (really, a doctor wearing vans).  He took one look at my laughing (I am pretty sure he was laughing at me.) baby and said that everything was fine.  This took all of 10 minutes.  Did I mention that Elisa had dropped us off (the dropping off occurred because the clutch in the Jetta needs to be replaced so it was at the shop) and she had gone to the soccer game.  We were there just long enough to make sure that Cole had started his game.  So then I got to hang out in the SSF ER waiting room with a baby (put clothes on him), trying to keep him occupied.

I did get to see some interesting things.  I think I saw some Chinese men abduct a woman in a wheelchair (but as I cannot understand Chinese, they may have just been her family).  I saw a social worker sting operation (It was amazing and exciting and that is all I have to say about that).  I saw a guy try and hook up with a nurse while he was waiting to go in and see him mom.

Then do you know what happened?  The week finally ended.  Sunday finally happened.  It was glorious and I loved it.  We did not go to the ER.  We (I) did not drop any babies.  We did not have to deal with the plague.  There was no nuclear holocaust.

Just writing about this week was nearly as exhausting as living it (er...maybe not) so I am done for now.  While you are waiting for the next installment please raise your glasses and toast Oliver, hard headed as his daddy.

9-27-12

Unfortunately I flew too high and my wings melted.  I then plummeted down, and as I started to right the ship, so to speak, the waves hit me.  

On Sunday Cole was feeling crappy.  We checked his temperature and it was 312.48 Kelvin.  Called Kasier and off to the ER we went.  On Monday, the fever persisted so off to the clinic we (we herein for this sentence refers to gma and gpa) went.  On Tuesday Dr. Taggart called and said that the cultures drawn on Sunday had grown into something (presumably Canadians) and that we had to go get admitted. So............................................................................................................................................................................................................................... I got to leave my new job early, again, and take Cole to the hospital, again, and we met the president again.  We were going to stay at the Hotel Abbot, but Kaiser knew of a much better place, so we stayed with them.  Now I feel that I must stray from this otherwise completely coherent and succinct summary of what's what and wander into a rant.  Over the last 18ish months I have spent a great deal (great deal is the grown up word for way more time that you should ever have to spend in a hospital with your kid) of time at Kaiser Santa Clara hospital, 3rd Floor, and have always been treated like a VIP (VIP is the grown up word for Vociferous Idiotic Parent).  You can understand my shock and awe then when I tried to go get some water from the room where the water and fridge are only to find that they put a lock, and an electronic one at that, on the door.  Not only was I locked out, but they refused to give me the code.  I tried to explain to them that the US Government (the sweetest smelling government in the world) saw fit to bestow upon me a secret clearance but to no avail (but to no avail is kind of a strange expression. You always use it in the negative.  You never say "to avail."  Kind of like repeat.).

Despite that, we had a nice stay.  Since the Monday cultures did not grow any friends to the north, Cole was free to go.  As they were discharging him they mentioned something about how the growing of the cultures was not due to bacteria in Cole's body, but rather contamination from the tech's glove.  Really.  The strain on  my nerves, as well as my new job did not need that.

As you can tell, I had a bigge week, but we seem to have made it through.  I will try to write again sometime soon, but in the meantime please raise your glasses to Cole, crane operator.  

So anyway, like I was saying I haven't written in a while (4 months to be exact) and I have almost forgotten how to write such that I am sure that I will make many grammatical mistakes and some of them might even be on accident or maybe I just might throw caution to the wind and completely avoid the use of a period irregardlessly of the amount of words, ideas, thoughts, rants, plea bargains, etc that I decide to use in my seemingly senseless and random diatribe.  Ok, maybe not.

So, a ton has happened in the last few months.  I will try to be brief in my summary.  First, and foremost all the people that reside in the San Miguel Baker household are alive.  The dog is alive.  The chickens are alive.   Unfortunately I can not say the same thing for the hermit crab or the rolly polly (although in our defense, I don't think the rolly polly was ever alive while in captivity).

Logan is doing well.  He is developing a strong, and some might say destructive, addiction to Star Wars.  He has only seen IV and VI (IV and VI is the "My culture has been dead for a long time mostly because we never figured out the 0 in math" way of saying A New Hope and Return of the Jedi (A New Hope is the hard core Star Warsy (tried to work Trekkie into Star Wars but it did not really work out) way to say what most people just refer to Star Wars)))))))))))))))))))))))))(I lost track of how many I had to close so in an abundance of caution I made sure to secure my parentheticals.  The last thing you want dangling where all the world (including the Pope and your 1st grade teacher) is a parenthesis.  )()()()()()()()()()(((((((()))))))))))).  He is a senior in College now and has almost mastered reading.

Oliver is built like a baby Barkley (Charles, not Matt although I would not say no to a scholarship to USC and a top 5 draft pick).  He is about to start crawling any day now.  He loves his new babysitter, Heather.  It was strange to take him to someone other than Anna.  He is a big bucket of giggles and poop.

Cole has been doing well. (let's get the medical crap out of the way).  He went through the MIBG therapy.  It was a crazy experience and I don't wish it on anyone.  At least; however, it did not seem to do any good whatsover.  So that is good.  Now we are on a new therapy this is logistically not so bad (one week of appointments every day but no overnight stays), and of the three medications that make up this protocol, he has taken two of them before (with positive results).  He has completed one round of this, and begins his second round soon.  After round 2, we will do a bunch of imaging.  Have to remember that it is a marathon, not a sprint.  Other than that, Cole has started 2nd grade, and really enjoys it.  He is playing soccer (had his first game last week.  I was the ref.  There were some controversial calls that some of the parents took exception to so I had to go and tell them what was up.  After the game I went home and made a big stack of pancakes and felt much better).

I have to go to sleep.  I have a bigee day tomorrow.

I have decided that I want to do a fundraiser (for some good charity, just don't know which one).  The fundraiser has to include Michelle Obama and Patrick Rothfuss.  Anybody have any ideas?

5-16-12

He is only 7.  Let me tell you two things that suck.

The first is that Cole asked a pointed question whose answer could only be fully given to someone with knowledge of chaca chaca boom boom (chaca chaca boom boom is the grown up word for making the beast with two backs).  Normally I would just use my powers of distraction and avoidance; however, I caught my self for one of those moments.  You know those moments that I am talking about.  It is that moment that takes, in reality, a fraction of a second but in your brain takes hours.  If it were a movie, you would have a conversation with your two selves in order to make the needed decision.  You see while I know that I will have to have the conversation with him that involves where to stick it, that conversation is not supposed to happen until after he and his friends have had the chance to look at an entirely inappropriate amount of porn.  What gave me pause however, was the fact that I cannot answer one simple question.  What if I don’t get a chance to have that conversation at all?  What if we lose?  WTF?

The second thing that sucks is this.  If you know that someone is going to hit you in the stomach with a 2X4, you can kind of prepare for it.  You can do your best to make sure that you take the hit in such a way that you protect, as much as possible, your vital organs.  Every time that my phone rings and I see that it is Kaiser, I have that moment before I answer the phone to get myself ready to take the hit.  I am used to it, and have gotten to the point where they can’t hurt me anymore.  But now imagine that out of nowhere someone randomly takes a shot at your stomach with a 2X4.  That would suck, huh?  I, randomly, get hit by that 2X4.  It might be something that I see (the outline of his tubes), something that happens (His legs start to hurt)……, or something that is said (like when I was talking to Oliver and I said that Cole is pretty cool and that when I grow up I want to be just like him.  To which Cole responded, “I don’t think you want to be like me.  For one, I have cancer.).  He is only 7.    

Well, please raise your glasses and toast Cole, the next Jim Duggan. 

Today

Today is kind of a random thought day, no real updates.  I should have something newsworthy tomorrow.

Not sure which is the more appropriate (although ridiculous) reference, so I will throw both down.

Remember when they guys got back from Antarctica and Sheldon ran back to Texas?  Well the universe keeps treating me like Leonard.  I can’t catch a break.

Or…

You know what I am afraid of? Quicksand.  You know you are going along and then something happens, and then another thing happens, and another, and another.  An no matter what you do to try and get out, it seems like whatever you do just causes you to sink further in.

You want to know something scary, I can tell the difference between 10 year old and 12 year old GlenMorange Scotch (even if I can’t spell it, or afford either).

I feel like I am supposed to love the Olympics, and I truly used to.  However, they have not even started yet and I already am tired of them.

It is funny the effect time and distance have on a relationship with another person.  What is even more interesting is how time and distance from a third party can affect the relationship of the principals.

I wish that my education had a greater amount of arts.

America’s Got Talent scares me.  Not because of the sheer stupidity of it, or that Howard Stern and Howie Mandel have control over other people’s lives.  What really scares me is the fact that they sell out the theater. 

I wish I owned a tux.  I wish I needed to.

I wish Cole did not have Cancer.  All the rest is just bullshit.

5o-5o-12o

First, happy Cinco De Mayo.  Go have some French Fries with hot sauce.

So we have a bunch of stuff to catch up on so I am going to try and limit my random rantings except to say that I have put in a call to Tony and hugs can be expected.  Don’t push me.  Yes, that much.

So when we last spoke I told you about how we were going to have to do the MIBG therapy and that we were meeting with UCSF.  Well we had the meeting on Wednesday, and the universe decided that was a good day to show up and say hi.  Please allow me to elaborate.

** ok so I know I said no rants, and I almost meant it.  I wonder if people who smoke crack have a moment of clarity right before puffing and think to themselves, “I know this sucks and it is destroying my soul,” and then they suck that shit down.  I have a TV show with which I have a similar relationship.  Poor Dev**

We had appointments for Oliver and Logan for check ups.  Cole had a therapy.  Oliver received his first shots.  Logan has either foot and mouth or mad cow disease.  Cole started feeling crappy at the meeting and the whole house, with me excepted for the moment at least, has descended into sickness.  Cole, of course, spiked a fever and we ended up in the ER until midnight (an hour of which was us sitting in the pharmacy waiting on medications that we ended up not taking anyway).  Good day.  At least I was paid for my time, thanks to the generous people at WEMED.

At the meeting, we learned more about the MIBG therapy and I will tell you that it truly sucks.  We, as the caregivers, can only spend about 30 minutes per day at Cole’s bedside due to his becoming highly radioactive.  There will be a small mirror that will allow us to see him, and for him to see us.  Fortunately Cole is all about the adventure so the idea of a mirror is awesome to him.  For me it is another sucky thing to have to put my son through.  Fortunately I have a great support system, and the AZ Bakers are being mobilized and spreadsheeted.

**Another randomization.  Watching the NBA playoffs, I can’t help but find that the two teams that I want to see win are the Lakers and the Celtics.  This bothers me because I kind of hate these two teams.  The Lakers have one of the best players ever, but he is a total ass.  They have a lazy punk for a center who, when he shows up, is unstoppable, and they have a truly crazy person.  The Celtics have one of the best assist men that I have ever seen play.  They have one of the best pure shooters that I have ever seen play.  But they have Kevin Garnett.  I want so bad to hate both of these teams, and I want to root for the Grizzles or the Thunder, but I can’t.**

It looks like we are a go for UCSF on or about June 14^th.  He will probably check in to his luxury suite on the 13^th, and then on the 14^th, he will obtain his super powers.  If you want to know more about  it, then you will just have to read the comic (which will be on sale soon).

Before I go, I want to make two announcements.  First off, JULIA IS ENGAGED TO BE MARRIED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! TO A BOY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Second, Julia’s...nay, my new soon to be brother in law is already stepping up to the plate.  He is giving a free seminar(?) or class(?) (not sure the exact format) about internet security.  Now, please understand that I am not trying to make fun of what he does.  I just truly don’t understand it.  I know that he is something similar to Robert Redford from Sneakers (Don’t look, listen) and that if you mess with his new family, he will hack yo ass….er something.  No, really I don’t understand it.  It has something nerdy to do with computers, and believe it or not, I am the cool one in the family.

In all seriousness (no really I promise this time) check out the link for what he is doing.  If you  follow his instructions and make the donation to Cole through this blog and put in the magic password, you will be able to receive a piece of his expertise.  http://www.securityaegis.com/hacking-cancer-please-spread-the-word/

For now please raise your glasses and toast Cole, deadly from beyond the arc.

False Spring

False Spring.

I don’t usually put titles on my posts.  The reason for this is twofold.  First, titling requires a level of cleverity that I do not possess in sufficient amount.  B, I never know what I am going to write about until it comes out.  And since I don’t go back and re-read, it does not make sense to put in a title.  And 3, I like to see what Martin at San Bruno Patch (shameless pitch…check out Patch.com) comes up with (it makes me feel like a real author).

Today however, I am making an exception.  I was thinking about calling today’s post Ruin v Peservation but I think that only a couple of people (Matt, Patrick, maybe Jason) would understand what I am talking about, so I went with the safe route and decided to call this post, “False Spring.”

In the past I have discussed how hard it is to write this blog in the absence, or significant lessening, of emotional difficulties.  That is why I moved the purpose of this blog to the family as a whole, and especially the wonderful experiences that we are having with three crazy boys.  Well, I have recently been reminded exactly why I started this blog. 

Cole had his series of scans and the main area in his abdomen has not changed in size, which is a good thing.  This means that, while it is not shrinking, it is not growing.  That was the news that we were hoping for.  Don’t start dancing yet, though.  The MIBG scan showed an area in his leg with active disease.  OK, so that sucks.  But wait, there was a chance that it was not actually active disease in his leg, but instead, it was pee on his leg.  Stay with me.  This is not one of those random things that I write that may or may not be an inside joke to someone. 

So they did a further scan, MRI this time.  The MRI confirmed that in fact Cole does not, or at least that time did not, pee on his leg.  He has a new spot of active disease.  I thought we were done.  I had already planned on the tubes coming out, and having the summer to end all summers.  Alas, it is not to be.  We are jumping right back into therapy, starting next Monday. 

We start with an infusion therapy at the clinic for 5 days, starting on Monday.  Fortunately the therapy will be done outpatient at the clinic, and Cole will likely not miss any school.  After that, and sometime in June Cole will return to UCSF for a one week MIBG therapy.  This therapy is much more intense and when I know more about it, I just might tell you.  We meet with the UCSF people next week.  I can tell you that there is a mirror involved.

I thought we were done.  I thought we were done.  I thought we were done.  I thought we were done.  All work and no play makes Jack a dully boy.  I thought we were done.  I thought we were done.  I did not cut and paste.  I promise.  I thought we were done. 

What if we lose.  Fuck.

Let me tell you what keeps me sane.  Watching a network TV show that is a musical about the making of a musical which suddenly breaks into a Bollywood number.  And I have had only one glass of Scotch.

Oh well, I would say sorry for the rambling and strange post tonight, but I am not really sorry cuz that is how my brain is going right now.

Please pray, think of, meditate about, or whatever for Cole.  In the meantime please raise your glasses and toast Cole, optical engineer.

3-30-12

Just finished the Hunger Games trilogy.  First off, while I understand that these books were written for teens (lots of gory death but no sex….our priorities are wrong…..but that is for another blog), the books still were not all that good.  The premise was sound, although predictable (very imaginative evil setup that needs to be overthrown; a seemingly unwilling heroine thrust into the limelight by other powers; final decision that must be made which will determine the fate of the world).  I had two major problems, however.  The first is that there were a huge number of grammatical mistakes.  Now I don’t eat, shoot, or leave, nor do I eat shoots, or leave but a professionally printed book should not have these mistakes.  The other big problem I had was the ending.  They should have ended the book the second she shot the last arrow.  Don’t tell me what happens next.  Don’t tell me how they lead the rest of their lives.  Just take the shot, and end it.  That being said, the books are nice potato chip books (a tasty quick literary snack that does not really fill you up but holds you over until dinner).

Cole has all of his big imaging tests coming up soon, and I am starting to get that gut twisting feeling in my stomach.  It is not that I am overly scared that the images will show something bad, just that these are the big ones.  We are all done with treatment and these tests will tell us if we are going to be able to move forward in a semi-normal fashion with the rest of our lives, or if this nightmare is going to continue.  OK, fine, maybe I am scared.  So be it.  I just want them to be here.  Waiting (like Aqua-Man, who is the Scooter of the Justice League) sucks.

So anyway like I was saying.  We are right in the middle of our busy season over here at Casa California Baker (busy season is the grown up word for the period beginning 2/11(by b-day), 3/1(Oliver), 3/2(Elisa), 4/1(Cole), 4/8(Easter), 5/9(Logan)).  Full planning control of Cole’s birthday party has been given over to me (what were they thinking).  I have devised a Harry Potter themed party which will include Quiddich  tryouts (sweaty grass stained kids), potion class (I think most of the ingredients are legal to give to kids), defense against the dark arts (love hitting stuff), and wand making (nothing like a customized weapon).  Boy parties are awesome.  I think next year we will have an MMA tournament.

Cole has issued his birthday request list, and it is thus:

Wii Lego Harry Potter Years 5-7

Art stuff

Football

Lego Harry Potter Legos

2 fish

1 hermit crab

A make lemonade kit

Pool

Green Eggs and Ham (not sure if he wants the meal or the book)

Logan’s birthday will be a little bit more subdued, but he has also drafted his list:

Camera (like Cole's indestructable)

Bob the Builder things

Dollhouse

Art stuff

Fire engine game

Police game

Sports things

Play structure

Flowers

Gardening tools

ladybug

crab

pool

water toys

Legos (normal size, not baby size) - police, fire engine, star wars

On the Oliver front, he is doing well.  He stays awake longer and longer each day, and I am pretty sure that he has already smiled like 20 times.  I know what you are thinking right now…it is just gas…well I say to you…I also smile after expunging gas….so there…  He has already started torturing his mother a little bit, but I am sure that will stop soon…at least I hope so…well it hasn’t yet with the other boys…

Last thing before I go.  I just found out that there is a 5K (for those of the Sam Baker ilk who agree that the metric system is stupid, 5K can roughly be converted to fro here to piyonder) fundraiser walk for Make A Wish in June.  We, or some portion of our household, are going to sign up.  I strongly encourage everyone else to do the same, or at least donate to the cause.  After I get my team registered, I will let you know how you can donate.  But at anytime if you want to donate to Make-A-Wish, but don’t know how, send me the money via paypal with a note that it is for Make-A-Wish, and I will get it there.  For now; however, please raise your glasses and toast Elisa, super mom.

3-22-12

Why is it that when I eat cinnamon toast, it is not spicy, but every cinnamon flavored candy is spicy?  I asked Oliver but he just spit up on me.  I guess it is kind of a sensitive subject for him (and no the spit up was not caused by the red hot that I let him taste).  Oh well, I guess I will just have to write this off as a mystery that will never be solved.

Oliver continues to wake up a few times each night despite the fact that I keep explaining to him that it is night time, and night time is sleep time, not eat time.  I must have been looking a little ragged these last couple of days because Elisa decided to let me sleep through the 3 am feeding extravaganzas.  It is amazing that the baby could be all by himself up in the tree house (which, on the record, has never happened) and Elisa could be down the street playing the tuba, and she could still hear him cry.  On the other hand (no professor you are wrong, you don’t have to explicitly say ‘on one hand’ to be able to use ‘on the other hand’ when clearly the one hand is implied.  This from a professor who showed me a great deal of animal porn under the guise of an anthropology class), I could be taking a nap and the child could be sleeping on my face, and I would not hear him cry.

Oliver is getting pretty good at crying.  He is already better than Cole ever was.  When Cole was a baby, he would cry for a minute or two and then do a cost analysis report.  If the analysis determined that crying was not worth the effort, he would stop.  I am waiting to see if he will be able to have the perseverance that Logan had.  Logan’s analysis was to ask himself if he had been given whatever it was that he wanted which had begun the crying.  If no, then continue crying.  If yes, then ask if there is anything else that he wants.  If yes, then continue crying.

OK, that is all for today, please tip your waitresses on the way out, and don’t forget your jackets.  We will return shortly, but in the meantime please raise your glasses to the Baker Boys and their upcoming world tour.   

3-19-12

With each passing night early morning spent not sleeping, but rather holding a football shaped creature that enjoys spewing his midnight snack on my shirt (I must say that it is amazing how precise the aim of an infant truly is.  I can be wearing a robe made out of burp cloth, and he will still find the one spot where he can hit my clothes.), I realize more and more the wisdom of that great 21^st century philosopher who opined, “I now know why young people have kids”.  This little dude is making me feel all of my over halfway to 70 years.

I used to could pull 48 hour runs on no sleep, and without the use of any chemical enhancement.  Those days are long gone.  Now all I can think of is when my next nap will be.  Oh well, I will exact my revenge later.  I have already complied collections of pictures and stories for Cole and Logan that are entitled “Prom Date Pictures.”  I plan on showing them to each of their respective prom dates on the big night.  That will show them…keeping me up past my bedtime.

I am pleased to report that Oliver has learned to use his legs in a more directed fashion.  He can now maneuver his legs out of the Kid-O-Potamus (Kid-O-Potamus is the most amazing invention since Bacon.  It is a blanket device that is used by idiot dads who are unable to perform the complex swaddle fold).  Of course he soon realizes that his feet are now cold, and he then proceeds to make me realize it. 

In other news, the crusty clump of dried human matter has fallen off of his belly, and I am pleased to announce the presence of an innie (by the way, this is a gross thing that we leave on the children.  Either medicine or evolution really needs to figure out a way to not have the dried end of the umbilical cord just sitting there for two weeks.). 

**Please note that the following is a paid advertisement**  Did you love the food at the last party that you went to?  Do you wish that you could have amazingly prepared food delivered to you door?  Do you love when announcers ask you multiple questions?  If so, then I would like to direct you to the company who is yet to be named, formed, or created.  With one simple click of the mouse, you will be able to order high end catered food for your family, and have it delivered to you door.  Please stay tuned for the creation of the company that will do this.  Thank you and God Bless America.

[And we’re back in 5….4…(hand signal 3)…(hand signal 2)…(hand signal 1)…(hand motion pointing at me]

 In sports news, Cole starts football today.  Relax, it is only flag football.  Although I did tell him that if it is second and one, he should lay into someone and take the penalty.  Tactics, I tell him….tactics.  I hate that I am going to miss watching him play for the next few weeks, but when I go on my baby daddy leave next month, I will get to watch him then.

Yesterday the older boys sat down and started on their birthday wish lists.  If you are interested, please check back later as we are in the process of editing Logan’s down to only include the realistic things (a butterfly flying over a flower was one entry) that have playing value for me.  Until that time comes, please raise your glasses and toast the California Baker family, the sweetest smelling of all the Bakers in California.

3-16-12

Last night Oliver and I started watching Game of Thrones.  For those of you who are not in the know, this is a show on TV.  We only got through the first few minutes before falling asleep, but so far it seems to be pretty close to the book.  I am glad that I did not live in medieval times cuz it seems like a smelly time to live. 

So anyway, like I was saying.  I will be going on my baby daddy leave April 18^th for a six week paid holiday (holiday is the grown up word for changing poopy diapers all day long instead of just at night).  Given the severe lack of conversational skills that Oliver has thus far shown to have, and since I will be through the Game of Thrones DVD way before then, I think that I am going to need something to do with my time.

I know that some might say to clean the house, or to work out, or some other mind/body/life improving activity, but that is not really my style.  I need to come up with a plan (plan is the grown up word for a scam that is most likely not illegal) to somehow have people come to believe that I am performing work for them such that they feel obligated to pay me.

So far here are my ideas: I could write a book, initiate a culture war in this country, start a business, or join the mafia.  The phone lines are open so please feel free to give me some ideas, or comment on the awesomeness of my current ideas. 

Hopefully I can, with your help, come up with an idea that is so brilliant that I won’t have to go back to work, and can just be a stay at home dad (see Michael Keaton, worked for him.  I even have a pair of sweats in the car already). 

I am currently working on a plan that will involve my neighbor doing all the work, my sister doing the books, and my brother creating the technology, with me all the while making tons of money.  The plan is still in the crack pipe stage, but I will let you know when it moves into the sphere of reality.

For now; however, please raise your glasses and toast Logan, because he is the middle child now and in need of some love.

3-15-12

I am sooooooooooo tired.  Last night Oliver thought it would be funny to lull me into a false sense of security by easily burping and then falling right to sleep after each of the evening feedings.  Of course it was just part of his diabolical plan because he then chose the 2am feeding to not burp, and to freak out whenever I put him into his bed.  That meant that, due to certain laws prohibiting the dangling of infants by their very small (and admittedly extraordinarily cute) toes, I found myself sitting on the couch holding a baby and watching Criminal Minds and Law & Order (two shows which will seriously mess with your mind at that time of night.  I feel like there are serial killers everywhere around me now.  I keep looking for a bulge (gun…..dirty mind) in my co-workers’ clothes so that I can find out who the killer is.  (Once I do find them I will, naturally, disarm them with my wit and a well placed cup of coffee in the face.  I have it all planned out.  The hard part will be to make sure that I have hot coffee within reach at all times today.)) while that silly little boy slept comfortably in my arms.  Try and put him back in his crib you say?  Nooooooo, we were not having that.  Fun times.

On other child fronts, Logan appears to be going through a growth spurt while at the same time transforming his bone structure to that of a Baker from the Arizona Clan (of which the California Clan is an evolutionarily advanced offshoot).  For those of you who have never seen a Baker attempt to jump (a truly comic sight) or had one sit on you, let me explain.  Something happens to the bones of a Baker whereby the makeup of the bone becomes more like lead than bone.  This causes a 123234532% weight increase without any visible indication of said increase.  You wouldn’t know it to look at me, but I weigh 432 lbs.  I know, right?  I hide it well.

Cole is rockin’ the first grade at Allen Elementary.  He has made inroads into the elite social circles, and has even been invited to his first birthday gala which is being held for one of the debutante’s birthday.  Not to be outdone, we are currently planning our own soiree and Cole is rapidly approaching his 1/10^th of the way to 70 birthday.  He is all done, hopefully forever, with his in hospital treatments.  We are currently finishing up his last round of at home medication cycles.  We will be taking various pictures of his insides in the middle of April.  The result of those pictures will determine what future treatments, if any, will be needed.  Best case scenario is that no treatments will be needed, and that his broviac line (the tube sticking out of his chest) can be removed. 

Elisa is on vacation eating bon bons and sipping margaritas.  Or, another way to put it is that she is home with the baby keeping him alive, happy, clean, and trying to clean up a house that her multiple male dude type peoples spend their entire waking moments destroying.  Sometimes I am not sure why she tolerates us.  We smell.  We are loud.  We are messy.  I think that if there was no such thing as a top shelf, I would be out of a job.  Hopefully that will not come to pass, but I will let you know if it does.  For now, however, please raise your glasses and toast the California Bakers, stars of the new show in NBC, “Elisa And Her Messy Dude Type People”  

3-14-12

Please note the new and snazzy blog site that I have created.  OK, fine, it is not really that new and not very snazzy, but in my defense I am a very uncreative and not too computer savvy dude.  I should be given credit for the fact that I did make some changes and did not completely melt the internet, which I do have the power to do.  What Al Gore giveth, so can I taketh away.  (Betcha didn’t know that huh?)

As the new title of the blog indicates, we have expanded the scope of this blog to cover the entirety of the California Baker Clan.  Many of you are familiar with this genetically superior offshoot of other clans, and are giddy with anticipation to be able to finally be able to follow all of your favorite California Bakers as they travel down this crazy road.  Granted the road is crazy cuz the driver of the bus done lost his mind many many moons ago.

Now that the platitudes, beatitudes, and all the other *tudes have been extolled, we can get down to brass tacks (what a strange expression.  The origin of this expression is currently being hotly debated on the interweb as we speak.  More details to follow as they become available.  Back to you Skip). 

I will give a detailed, albeit a slightly loony, update on Cole in subsequent postings, but we have bigger news to report here at channel me.

Of course the big news is that on or about March 1, 2012 at approximately 10:00 am PST, we evicted(I would normally put a footnote marker here but not sure how that works when I covert this to the blog, and since I don’t want to destroy everyone’s favorite internet, I will just give credit to this expression to one Elisa Baker) our newest clan member, Oliver Aren Baker. 

The tale of the tape:

--height/length: 20.5”

--weight: 8lbs 9.2oz

--hair: more than me

Oliver (or Ollie Tamale as Colie Guacamole likes to call him) is doing very well thus far and has already started teasing Cole and Logan that he has his own room while they have to share.  Elisa is also, of course, doing remarkably well.

I am reveling in being a new dad again.  I just love holding that little ball of wrinkles and strange body noises because he is too young to tell me that my singing is horrendous and that I should really stop.  He also can’t tell me that my stories are boring.  In fact he seems to be totally enthralled with my stories, especially my explanations of various economic principals and philosophies (granted, that could just be gas on his part).

Hey, do you think that they name pancakes “pancakes” so that it would trick kids into thinking that they were having cake for breakfast?  Odviously adults cannot be trusted to be around pancakes alone, and should always have supervision.

Well ok then, I think that my brain has leaked onto this paper enuf for the day.  We will talk again later.  In the meantime, please raise your glasses and toast the California Bakers, the odvious successors to the Jackson 5 legacy.

2-21-12 9 Days

So anyways, like I was saying….I am now over half way to seventy.  During the first third of my life I have figured some stuff out that might help each of you.  First, an indictment is not a conviction.  Second, vodka goes very well with cranberry juice and ice.  Third, cancer can be defeated.

With that in mind, I have a bone to pick with a certain Mr. Cole.  You see, he keeps on not having any adverse issues.  Thus I keep having less and less medical related stress.  As a result, I find my self less and less inclined to write.

That being said, I suppose I am happy that he is doing so well (irregardless of the fact that he gives me no writing material).  Immunotherapy is done, and we are just finishing up the program with medications at home.  He will be done with all of this by mid March, and then the big decisions will be made regarding the next step.  My vote is that the next step is to not have cancer any more.

We do have some big news on the education front.  Cole has been accepted to, and today was formally admitted to (as a note any medical professional who has not yet recommended that Cole start back up at school yet should please not read this paragraph) the prestigious Allen School.  He was heavily recruited and has received a full ride scholarship.  I cannot tell you how relieved I am that I do not have to pay for him to go to this school, because that would be kind of ridiculous.

I have some other business that needs to be taken care of.  Since Cole has decided to no longer provide me with stress induced writing material (as Jar Jar would say, “how woood”), I think that this blog is going to expand its mission.

As many of you know, Elisa is going to have BBB#3 on or about March 1^st (on or about is the grown up word for the epic battle between mother and child regarding the date of birth.  All plans have been made for the 3/1 birth, thus the child will try for some other day).  I have decided (aided by a couple of glasses of Scotch tape) to chronicle this new addition to the California Baker clan.  Don’t worry, I will continue to provide updates on Cole, will write about Logan as well (poor Logan, middle child always gets screwed), and of course will continue to explore the magic of pancakes.

For now; however, please raise your glasses and toast Cole, basketball coach.

1-31-12.......Day Minus 30

Tonight we go to battle for, hopefully, the last time.  I feel that I should say a few important words to that will live on in perpetuity; however, if you know me, that is not my style.  So, as I did so often in jr. high (hope statute of limitations has run.  If not, the I was just joking…..uh….), I will steal someone else’s stuff and make it my own.  Here goes: (we will be having a contest to see who can be the first one to determine what famous speech I have brutally plagiarized and butchered.  Entry fee is $5.00.  Winner gets 3 points)

Cole, You are about to embark upon the final battle of a Great Crusade, toward which you have striven these many months. The hopes of the world are upon you. The hopes and prayers of people everywhere march with you.  

In company with you are your brave family and friends, and unknown brothers-in-arms, fighting the same fight, you will bring about the destruction of the cancer war machine, the elimination of all evil malignancies over your body, and security for ourselves in a cancer free world.

Your task will not be an easy one. Your enemy is well trained, well

equipped and battle hardened. It will fight savagely.

But this is the year 2012! Much has happened since the Cancer was diagnosed 2011. The United Medications have inflicted upon the Cancer great defeats, in open battle, man-to-man. Our Chemotherapy has seriously reduced its strength and its capacity to wage war on your body. The BMT Home Front has given us an overwhelming superiority in weapons and munitions of war, and placed at our disposal great reserves of learned doctors.

The tide has turned! The cancer free men of the world are marching together to Victory!

I have full confidence in your courage and devotion to duty and skill in battle. We will accept nothing less than full Victory! 

Good luck! And let us beseech the blessing of Almighty God upon this great and noble undertaking.

Pretty Cool huh?

Seriously, Cole I wish you Godspeed on your journey this week.  I physically will be there for part of it, but know that I am always there.  Every second of every hour of every day.  You are never alone.  Rest assured that this week glasses are raised everywhere for Cole, my son.

1-30-12.....Day Minus 31

I know that this blog is about Cole, but there are some serious issues which first must be cleared up before we can, in good faith and with peace of mind, proceed.  If you are an adult, and if you are wearing jeans, then you should not be wearing brightly colored crocs.  There is just no reason for that kind of insanity.  Please stop now.  You know who you are.

There, now let’s move on, shall we?  We are in the home stretch of what is visible in front of us.  Did that make sense?  Why am I asking questions?  Hello, is anyone there? 

Anyway, Cole begins his last scheduled hospitalization on Tuesday night.  We are hoping that this week will go by fast and I can get my boy back home for good.  While Kaiser Santa Clara hospital is not the worst place in the world to spend a few nights, I think that I can safely say that I do not ever want to see the 3^rd floor again. 

Last Friday, Cole and I went to his pre-admission doctor’s appointment.  First off, Cole has surpassed the 50 lb mark.  50 lbs has been, for me at least, the magic, albeit slightly arbitrary, weight number for him.  Throughout all of these treatments (Chemo, BMT, Radiation, Immuno) we have been struggling to get his weight back up to a normal weight for a 6 year old of his height.  He is not there yet, but he has definitely on his way.

At the appointment Dr. Taggart also informed us that she had given the big dogs at UCSF Cole’s file to review.  The reason for this is that his last imaging still showed some neuroblastoma cells.  Dr. Taggart said that these cells could be dead cells, mature cells, or active cells.  There is no way to know just by the imaging.  Odviously dead cells are the best.  Mature cells are good because they will not reproduce.  Active cells are, of course, not ideal. 

Since the area that is lighting up on the MIBG scan (MIBG is the grown up word for the test than can detect neuroblastoma cells) has not increased in size, Dr. Taggart is optimistic that the cells are either dead or mature.  In an abundance of caution; however, she sent Cole’s file up to UCSF for them to look at this issue. 

UCSF basically came to the same conclusion that Dr. Taggart came to.  So, after this week the next step is to do another set of imaging.  If there is no change, then they are going to have the formal tumor board look at Cole’s file in order to make a recommendation.

They might try and perform a biopsy.  By pulling actual cells, and looking at them under the microscope, they will be able to say with certainty what is the diggity yo.  The difficulty with getting the biopsy is that since the cells are so close to the aorta (which is the reason they could not take them out to begin with) they might not be able to, safely, get to the spot to grab the cells.

If the biopsy proves not worth the risk, they will probably recommend that we do nothing but watch.  We will regularly monitor and image him, and if the area does not ever increase in size, nothing will need to be done.

So that is the skinny on where we stand.  I say good bye for now, and ask that you please raise your glasses and toast Cole, radish farmer.

1-25-12

I was a history major in college, so I understand the struggle that has gone on between workers and employers since the industrial revolution.  I get it.  I understand that many of the comforts and rights that I enjoy today (8 hour work day, overtime pay, rest breaks, meal breaks, the right not to be beaten unless I want to, etc.) at my workplace have come as a result of workers fighting, mainly through the use of the strike.  I get it.  Now please don’t think me ungrateful, but I have to say that there are some strikers who are just being selfish.

Take for example the big nurses’ strike that is coming next week.  Now some might say that they are badly needed workers doing a thankless job and are in dire need of more pay.  Fine…whatever, but did you really have to set the strike for next wee?  I mean, come on, Cole has not been in the hospital for the last three weeks.  Couldn’t you have done this last week?  Now Cole has to delay his treatment (maybe final?  Don’t want to be too optimistic, but I am losing that battle) by 2 whole days.

(Please imagine I am speaking as if I had cotton balls stuffed in my cheeks as you read this paragraph) Now I have to make arrangements to have Cole start his treatments on Wednesday.  If something were to befall him during this time…If he were to have an accident….If he were to accidently hang himself in his jail cell…I am going to blame some of the people in this room….

All that being said, I am looking forward to knocking this last treatment cycle out.  I am guardedly, cautiously, and hungrily optimistic that once done with this treatment, we will never have to see the inside of the PICU again.  That is my wish and dream.

Cole has been doing very well as of late.  He has been going to school (orders to the contrary be damned), and my top secret informers tell me that he has been seen running and playing with other children at school.  Thank (insert deity, spirit, or favorite celebrity of your choice here) for that.  I have been scared that he would have trouble integrating himself into the social fabric that is first grade; however, as with seemingly everything else, he makes me feel foolish for my fears.

We are eagerly awaiting March 1^st (Thing 3’s entrance to the world), and have been preparing the homestead for his arrival.  Cole and Logan are back in the same room.  A room which has been painted with the San Diego Chargers in mind.  The baby’s room has been painted.  As soon as the crib gets here, we will be all set (except for buying diapers, wipes, a stroller, and all the other things that babies need.  You know for only being a few pounds, they sure do need a lot of crap)

I guess that is all for now….wait…I almost forgot.  I was looking at the stats today and I noticed that this blog has generated over 33K hits from over 10 countries since its inception.  I know that is not a big number within the world of internet blogging, but to me it seems close to infinity.  I want to thank you for your support this last year, and let’s all hope for a better 2012.  In the meantime please raise your glasses and toast Cole, market research analyst.

1-12-11

So here I am watching NFL Live, and they are talking about the Green Bay Packer’s O-Coordinator’s son who passed away.  The advice that came out of the discussion was to make sure that you hug your kids a little more, because you never know.  True Dat, yo.

Now don’t get alarmed, Cole is doing well.  He came out of this last round of therapy in better shape than any other round, at least that I can remember.  He continues to respond to treatment beautifully, and he will soon need a haircut (although I don’t think that I will ever push him too hard to get it cut.  I think that he has earned some shagginess, don’t you?).

We still have a couple of issues that need to be resolved.  First is that his T-Cells have not resumed function (thus his immune system is still compromised).  As a result, he has not been cleared to start back at school.  This is causing some consternation here at Casa San Miguel as I am rapidly running out of FMLA days, and we can only maintain for so long with me only working two days per week.  It is likely to get a little dicey around here between now and March 1^st. 

Cole does not go back to UCSF to get his T-Cell function tested until February 15^th, and we don’t get the results until 2-3 weeks after that.  The insanity of that is further compounded by the fact that California Baker Boy #3 (Don’t have a name yet.  I am willing to sell naming rights though, just like major sports stadiums do.  Think about it.  Oracle Baker, Adobe Baker, Geico Baker, KB Homes Baker.  If you want to have a chance, send money to the Cole fund and whoever sends the most will be considered) is set to arrive on March 1^st.

The other issue is that there is still some cancer cells that show up in the imaging.  These cells were so close to the aorta that the surgeon did not want to risk trying to cut them out.  The problem with the imaging is that the results do not tell us if the cells are active.  They could be dead cells, they could be live cells.  They could be mature cells that will not multiply any more.  We just don’t know.  The not knowing is killing us. 

Kaiser is in contact with UCSF regarding the next steps.  My most recent understanding (which often ends up being woefully incomplete) is that there are two likely next step scenarios.  First, and mo betta, is that we don’t have to do any more treatments.  We just monitor to make sure that there is no spread.  This is referred to as the stable disease plan.  Second is something called MIBG therapy.  Basically this is a form of radiation therapy.

Now on to more interesting news.  This coming Friday, Cole and I are going to his first photo shoot.  That’s right, he has been accepted to be on America’s Next Top Model.  No wait, that’s not right.  Actually, he is going to be in a calendar that the Make A Wish Foundation is putting together for a big fundraiser event that is coming up in February (If you are looking for a tax deductible donation location, I cannot recommend Make A Wish any higher.  They gave us an amazing gift.  Made us feel like VIPs.) called Wine and Wishes, or something like that.  My understanding (see supra re: my understandings) is that it is a dinner that has multiple chefs busting out some yummy grub (yummy grub is chef talk for good food), and that this calendar will, in some way, be part of the event.  The photo shoot subposebly will have wish kids as well as some of the chefs.   Should be cool.  I am hoping for two things to come out of this shoot, well actually three.  First is that “They” recognize the greatness and give us a million dollars (I keep waiting for “Them” to do this, but “They” continually fail to do so).  Second is that we get a free calendar (love the swag).  Third is that the chefs are uber famous chefs and/or Top Chef contestants and/or Padma.  We will see.  For now; however, please raise your glasses and toast Cole, franchise quarterback.