11

As it happens the closest thing I have to a spiritual advisor is an African American woman named Yolanda who works with me at the hospital. Who else could spiritually advise this old skeptical catholic other than a spirited woman from a Black non-denominational church? Every day Yo checks in on me. Every day she tells me that she is praying for Adam and my entire family. Today when I got to work Yo once again asked how I was doing and she could see the answer on my face. I told her about my anger (see previous post) and she listened. Then she asked a simple question. 'Is your anger about your pride?' She went on, 'Pride leads to destruction, and destruction leads to the fall.' She nailed me. I sat for a short while, thought, prayed and breathed. I met with the Medical Director as scheduled and then I ran to my car and drove home and made my apology. Yo had said 'Apologizing can be liberating.' Amen sister..... Yolanda is like the Buddha of the Black Church. She always has exactly the right thing to say at exactly the right moment. This wasn't the first time that I took action based on her input.

Adam turns 11 years old today. Yesterday Adam had a good day. His tummy wasn't hurting, his energy level increased throughout the day and his wonderful sense of humor was back. Today I think he will feel better still. This seems to be the pattern with the inpatient chemo. A few days out and he begins to come back to himself. Today he goes to Meigs Magnet to deliver Superman Cup Cakes to his class. I know he is excited to see his class mates and maybe, though he wouldn't put it this way, feeling bitter sweet that he can not stay with them. Adam told me yesterday he wants to have a spend the night party with his closest friends. I think we can make that happen.

Juju and Bear stayed until he woke up, which was a little late due to staying up a little late last night, and showered him with 'Happy Birthdays', gifts and love. They are now on the road back to Fairhope. It was a blessing having them here to help out.

Sitting on our mantel piece are many cards and gifts, maybe more than usual for a birthday, from near and far. Yesterday one of my coworkers, Marie, presented me with two care packages; one for Adam and one for Camille. How thoughtful to remember Camille. Marie's husband is a graphic artist and included in each package was a mounted illustration that he had designed. Superman for Adam (of course), which is way cool, and Tweety Bird for Camille (how appropriate).

I feel ashamed that I let my own petty ego lead to such anger yesterday and this morning in light of all the wonderful support we are getting from all corners. Today I am renewing my efforts to find tranquility moment by moment, while at the same time dealing with my own too fragile ego.