July 8, 2006 by Amy

The C-Word

Yesterday’s great day went to hell in a handbasket shortly after work. We were all waiting to see what the doctors would determine was going on with Uncle Cloyd, hoping and praying.

At around 6 I got the call from Aunt Peg: “It isn’t good.”

At this very moment, as I type, Cloyd is undergoing surgery to determine exactly what’s going on, and what “strain” he has. I’m not going to use the C-word, because that would be admitting he’s got it, and I’m just not ready for that yet. I don’t know that anyone in the family is ready for that, because I haven’t heard any of them say it. Isn’t that funny? How you can all be talking about something, the same thing, and yet no one has to use the actual word. Peg used “lymphoma,” which means the same thing, but isn’t using the actual C-word.

Please, everyone, pray for my Uncle Cloyd and Aunt Joann. And send Cloyd some fightin’ energy. It’s early stage, he’s young and healthy, so I’m confident he can lick this.

Had a lovely dinner last night at Ken and Mary’s. Well, at Ken and Mary’s “summer home out west.” Mary is having her kitchen extensively remodeled, and they’re staying at a friend’s home while the friend is out of the country. So we all went over to the friend’s house, which is a split-level built around 1975, and looks it. It’s funky and cool, although the railingless stairs sorta freaked me out.

Anyway, Mary made some fantastic beef and risotto and white asparagus (spare grass, as my grandma called it) and cranberries. Oh, and her famous tomato bisque, which is just incredible. Words do not describe Mary’s tomato bisque. Ken played wine steward, as he usually does, and it was a very nice time and a good distraction from the earlier news.

This morning, we’re working on our projects while waiting to hear word on Cloyd. M is busy designing and building stands for our Busch Stadium II seats and our Arena seats. I am cleaning up around the house (well, not right this second, obviously, but I thought it important to give ya’all an update on Cloyd). Zozo is down for her morning nap, although every once in awhile I think I hear her playing in there.

Oh yeah, message to Aunt Beans: Zozo’s stomach does NOT like juice. Yes, we finally gave her some this morning. She wrinkled up her nose at it, then decided to try some more. And then, an ounce into it, she tossed her cookies. Breakfast went everywhere…all over her, all over M. It wasn’t pretty. Got her cleaned up, pushed some more breakfast in her, and finished off with her traditional formula. So back off, juice pusher! She’s not ready for it quite yet!