Adam's port o cath comes out Tuesday. Yippee. I have run into several folks lately who I have not seen in a while but who know about Adam's treatment. They ask 'How's Adam?' with sincere concern and solemnity. I try not to be too glib not wanting to insult their caring concern but sometimes I slip and say something smartalicky like 'He's as good as any smart-ass almost 12 year old.' or 'He's good, would you like to take him home?' or some such thing. The miraculous thing is, those answers are true in their own way. We (Martha and I) are now just dealing with regular stuff. Adam has been great in many ways. His mood, weight, and hair are all back. He's doing good in school. But he needs a lot of reminding about taking showers, cleaning his room and being nice to his sister. And I keep telling myself, or trying to remember to tell myself, just before I clobber him that having to get onto him for these things is a big fat blessing.
So parents, go hug your children, tell them that you love them. And kids, go clean your room.
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