Courage is the discovery that you may not win, and trying when you know you can lose.

5K Goals

I know I just PR'ed a 5K a month ago, but I'm going to try again.
Goal A: 26:57 <-ambitious, and crazy
Goal B: PR (current PR 28:11)
Goal C: Don't puke or die

Goal A is an 8:40ish pace. I've certainly never attempted this pace for any length of time - I did 1600's, like, forever ago, and hit that, but I had a RI in between. Doesn't really count. I did run mile 10 of my 11 miler Sunday at goal pace, and didn't want to die OR puke, so I guess it could happen. We'll see. I know it's kind of a stretch, but might as well give it a shot - it's a great course, and my legs feel good and recovered.

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Have I ever mentioned that I am a gigantic Disney obsessed freak?

For years, I've been a member of a Disney message board - I am normally the type who researches crowd calendars and counts down to the 180-day mark so I can make my dining reservations. I plan out what Fast Passes to get when (which is moot now, since they changed the FP rules at WDW, zoinks). It gets pretty intense around me when Disney planning is happening.

Anyway, they have a forum on these message boards dedicated to Make a Wish trips, and tips for families with special medical needs, which of COURSE I've been obsessively reading since we started planning.

On this board, though, there's a group of people, who select families going on Wish trips, and throw a little (or a lot....) of extra Pixie Dust their way...

By way of....

We've been receiving and opening Mickey Mail for weeks, and man, how stinkin' blessed are we.

Gabby is pretty much FREAKING OUT EXCITED every.single.day. The H said he woke up to her counting down yesterday. She advised me as soon as I walked in after work that we only had NINE DAYS LEFT.

I'm guessing today we'll have only EIGHT DAYS LEFT.

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Speaking of Gab.... It's been awhile since I've talked about Gabby.

The truth is, there's nothing to report. She's happy, healthy, and a typical 5 yr old kid.

I guess that's kind of the best report of all.

She had to get stitches a few weeks ago, after a playground incident. Can't get much more normal than that, eh?

The stitches came pretty soon after her chemo doses were increased - chemo is dosed based on the child's weight, mostly, and how they're reacting to their current dosage. Her weigh in at the clinic bumped her up to the next threshold, and doses went up. Not a ton, but enough to mess with her counts for a few weeks.

Chemo, in general, lowers her counts - white blood cells, platlets, red blood cells. All those cells you need to heal when you get cut, right?

So, long story short, her chemo was increased, which led to counts dropping, which led to the creepy stitches being removed but her leg not totally healed, so it was kind of an open wound and puffy, and she got an extra med to prevent infection. More chemo, and an extra med.

Like dominos, man.

Because her counts have been low, she's going to clinic again on Tuesday to make sure her counts have rebounded, before we leave for her Make a Wish trip.

What does that mean, exactly?

If her counts are still low, they'll "just" lower her chemo for the week and give her a transfusion.

You know. No big deal. Just lower chemo and blood transfusions.

Anyway.

The point to all this rambling, is today is Tuesday. Already this week, I've had two of my employees in my office, in tears, about children in their family with cancer.

I'm a private person, and I don't share my personal life with work. My employees don't know about Gabby and her leukemia. I've been here almost a year, and one of them just last week asked if I had any kids. They had no reason to come to me expecting anything more than a manager approving their time off.

TWO people, TWO kids with cancer. In TWO days.

What the fuck.

I don't know. It pisses me off. I hope I was helpful to them, somehow. I know I was terrified the first few weeks... and it takes a LOT to worry me.

It pisses me off that I'm so blase about "just" changing the dose of chemo and giving her a blood transfusion. I mean. Those are kind of serious things, right? I don't know how I'd function if I reacted as if things like that are a big deal, but maybe I should. And how incredibly lucky are we? How did we get SO fortunate.

I don't know. I don't really have a point here. I'm just mad.