Mouth-breathing without a thorough teeth-brushing. I’m assuming he hadn’t brushed his teeth, because I could SMELL his BREATH. Hork.

Food Network tv-watching.

……………..

So. It’s 2010. I think this is going to be a good year.

Still, it wasn’t immediate; we weren’t sure who he was until the day after he was born, when my husband looked at him, cradled in his lap the way my husband holds all small babies, and said, “He’s Asher William.” It was, like him,  perfect.

Asher comes from the Hebrew word osher, meaning Happy. He is the happiest boy you’ll meet. So many times I’ve heard, “Is he always this happy?” or, “What a beautiful smile!” It’s infectious and contagious.

He’s my joy bringer, my little bundle of pure honey.

.:.:.:.:.:.

My gram died today.

Five days ago she was admitted to the hospital, three days ago we learned how sick she really was. Tomorrow she was going to be transferred to hospice.

We’ve been at the hospital every day, even though there wasn’t much we could do except be there. I wasn’t sure if it was ok to take Asher with me, but it was the only way,  and I needed to be with my gram and my family.

I’m so glad we were there, because my perfect boy, my joy bringer, affected everyone whose eyes he looked into. Even strangers in the ICU waiting room, families so visibly distraught, looked away from him with softer faces and relaxed shoulders. I heard a woman say, “I can’t help but smile back at him.” It’s his gift.

I think that’s why we were there, to be the break from grief that everyone needed.

He emanates love and happiness, and glows with joy. I don’t know how I got so lucky to have this boy in my life.

But we all need him now, so much.

I’ve reconnected with my college roommate. Old co-workers. Family that I haven’t seen or spoken to in years. Childhood friends. So many people from elementary school, middle school, and high school. So many people.

This week, I reconnected with Erica. We graduated from high school together and went our separate ways, and haven’t seen or spoken to one another in almost 12 years.

Also this week, I found out that Erica has breast cancer. She’s 29. And you need to know her story.

In September, Erica’s friend Heather was diagnosed with stage 3 breast cancer. She thought the same thing I thought, that probably all of you are thinking: how could someone our age have breast cancer? Erica started doing self breast exams every day, and found what nobody wants to feel, a lump. She saw her doctor the very next day, and her doctor checked it out and reassured her that it was nothing. She was young and healthy, with no family history of cancer. Don’t worry, she said, it’s probably just a cyst or a clogged milk duct.

Erica didn’t feel good about the doctor’s prognosis, so she looked for a second opinion. She saw another OBGYN at another hospital who assessed the situation, and again she heard the words, “Don’t worry about it.” She worried about it. I’m so glad Erica didn’t give up. She was relentless, and the doctor said, “If it’ll make you feel better, I’ll refer you to a breast surgeon at Northwestern.”

Four weeks later she saw the surgeon, and finally got a comprehensive mammogram and ultrasound. About damn time, right? Four weeks after that, a biopsy. The biopsy revealed stage one breast cancer.

What if she hadn’t given up? What if she listened to the first doctor she saw, or even the second doctor? What if she decided to wait 11 years until her 40th birthday, the age at which mammograms are actually recommended? She didn’t, she caught it early and she’s young and strong and is going to be just fine.

But what if?

Erica is getting ready to start 8 rounds of chemotherapy, every two weeks for 4 months. Two weeks later, she’ll start 7 weeks of radiation, 5 days a week. In her words, “I will be cured of this thing. I have total faith in myself and my husband and all of my friends and family. I have faith that God only gives us what we can handle, and he’s obviously letting me know that he thinks I’m a rock star.” Amen.

Meet Erica.

Subscribe to her feed. Read her blog and comment, link to her and share her story with everyone you know. Lift her up and pray for her and show her the love and support that this community is defined by.

And Check Yo’ Self. Every Day. Take control of your health and be responsible for yourself. Because breast cancer doesn’t discriminate.

It starts the night before the race at smaller track outside of Indianapolis where they hold a series of races called The Night Before the 500. Original, no?

Those blurs are called midgets. Tiny roller-skate-looking cars.

That hand stamp says NHRA, ya’ll. We’re not in Kansas anymore. (Actually, we might as well be in Kansas. Ha!)

These high school kids were selling raffle tickets. Their shirts say “We do it in the community.” Geh heh.

Mmmm Bop.

Sunday morning started out rainy and sucky. It cleared up early, pretty much by the time we all got to the track. My dad has great tickets and gets us into pit lane and the garages, where I got to see Dario Franchitti.

Oh, Dario. Why must you be so Scottish?

Then we watched to Parade of Stars. There’s the wee one from Hall and Oates.

Not him, the other one. (p.s. I was named after a H&O jam)

And Ray Liotta. This one’s for you, mom.

And Rupert from Survivor. Signing some girl’s hump.

And this guy. We still don’t know who he is, but everyone else seemed to.

And Peyton Manning. He’s surprisingly fast. And also, I think that’s Moses right there in the mid-ground.

McDempsy on the Jumbo-tron. He’s an elusive one, Patrick Dreamy is.

<warning: tearjerker> As a Memorial Day service before the race began, members of the US Army walked the track from the Pagoda to Gasoline Alley as a serviceman played ‘Taps’. The crowd was dead quiet, all standing, and as the trumpet got quiet at the end, someone up in the stands shouted “Bring our troops home!” Men cried and hugged in the stands. Whoa. <end: tearjerker>

You wish you had our awesome seats. Pagoda and balloon release, people.

This guy, explaining the finer points of Indy Car racing to his son, was kicking it in Sponge Bob boxer shorts.

Dario’s wife, Ashley Judd. Whatever. She can have him.

Although it was sunny in the beginning…

It was pouring by lap 113. Good thing we had ponchos.

All this kid had was a Nordstrom bag.

We took off at that point, power walking 2 miles in the rain. (Good Training.) Two hours later they dried the track and ran 40 more laps. Dario won. Did I mention he’s my favorite?

May is Skin Cancer Awareness Month. I actually didn’t know that until I started looking for facts and information on this post, one that I’ve been putting off writing for a couple weeks. Why didn’t I know that? Why doesn’t everyone know that? (maybe you did… why didn’t you tell me!? pfft. some friend…)

Ever since I’ve known my husband (6 years, btw) he’s had this mole on the left side of his nose right next to the thingy where his glasses rest. Then, about 3 years ago, another one popped up on the other side of his nose. I figured it was from the friction caused by the glasses. Both have gotten bigger over the course of our relationship, and another showed up on his forehead. That one was different; it wasn’t raised at all, and was a darker color, almost like a spot from a dark red Sharpie. There were also a couple little bumps on his neck and under his eye. I’m no topographer, Jim, and I know I’m rather excitable and tend to overreact sometimes, but.. Sue me.

I’ve been wanting to make an appointment for him for years, but didn’t want to piss him off. (that whole excitable/overreact thing. it’s not his favorite quality of mine.) So a couple months ago, I started mentioning it in passing. “Oh, hey, gonna make you an appointment, pass the chips, please.” This was a carefully choreographed, strategic attack. After 3 or 4 comments like that, and, an equal number of “What?! Why!?” from him, I just made the appointment. “Oh, hey, made you an appointment, pass the edamame, please.” That was a month ago.

The dermatologist was a Barbie look-alike with hot pointy-toed heels. That’s not really relevant to this story, but we were both impressed with her kicky shoes. She checked him out, had him take his shirt off, looked at all the moles in questions, and cut them right off. We were there for about 30 minutes total: sign-in, patient info forms, excisions and all. They mean business over there.

A week later they called with the biopsy results: 4 normal, one not. The dark one on his forehead was ‘irregular’. It was completely excised, so no action is necessary after the biopsy other that a head-to-toe skin check every month and an office visit every six months. He assured the doctor that I would be ‘vigilant’ in enforcing the at-home skin checks. Damn right. BOOYAH.

Since then, I’ve turned into a skin-protection nazi. Even I’m surprised at my vigilance. But the thing is, my husband isn’t someone that hangs out and frolics in the sun. He’s not an outdoorsy guy, and is in fact putting up a serious fight to my desire to vacation in Jamaica this summer. If he can get ‘irregular’ moles, what about the rest of us who grew up in the sun? Who have maybe gone tanning once or twice. (it was before prom! shut it!) We need to protect ourselves, check ourselves and each other, and raise awareness.

There is a ton of information on skin-protection and cancer prevention online if you know to look for it. These are some of the basics I used in my own research, and when putting this together. Also, last month’s Glamour Magazine had a 12-page article on skin cancer if you can track it down. It had some great info, things I had never heard before, like the fact that most melanoma occur on women’s legs and feet, because they are the least protected. Wow, yeah?

The A, B, C, D & E’s of Skin Cancer.

Dangerous mole or not: Take the quiz.

Know the facts.

Protect yourself and everyone you love.

.: M and I at dinner on our wedding night in Hawaii, 07.20.06

We spent a beautiful Sunday in Millennium Park, with 11,000 of our closest friends and the Dalai Lama. More on that later! (Photo property of Al Podgorski/Sun-Times)

I will walk 60 miles in three days to fight breast cancer.

Breast cancer is the second leading cause of cancer death for all women, and the leading cause of death in women between the ages of 40 and 55. Both its cause and the means for its cure remain undiscovered. Currently, one million women in the U.S. have the disease and probably won’t know about their potentially fatal illness for another five to eight years. Breast cancer has challenged 2 million survivors in the U.S. Increased awareness means more survivors.

I’m taking on this challenge to do something big that will help raise awareness and help in finding a cure. I want to make a personal difference in the fight against breast cancer. I want to help raise millions of dollars for breast cancer research and patient support programs.

My personal challenge starts today. Over the next five months, I’ll be spending many, many, many hours in training. By the time the walk starts on October 19th, I will have logged enough miles to take me from Chicago to California. I’ll track all of my training and progress here so that you can share this with me.

There will be times when I won’t feel like training. Or my back will hurt. Or I’ll just be too tired. Then I’ll think of all the people that I love who have been affected by breast cancer. I walk for them. I walk for our friends, sisters, mothers, grandmothers, aunts and cousins. And I walk for our daughters, so that their daughters won’t have to walk for their grandmothers.

As a condition of participation, I’m committed to raising at least $2,200. So, yeah, this is a plea for your emotional and financial support. A dollar for every mile that I’ll be covering (one way or the other) would be wonderful, but I’m grateful for whatever contribution you would like to make.

My personal fundraising goal is $5,000. If you help me reach this goal, I’ll dye my hair hot pink for the walk. That’s right.

.: From this                                       .: To this

And if you’re my dad? Match the donations I’ve raised, and I won’t dye my hair hot pink for the walk.

.:

This is so much more than ‘just a walk.’ It’s a way for me to make a difference, for all of us to make a difference, to raise money for Susan G. Komen for the Cure and the National Philanthropic Trust Breast Cancer Fund.

Join me in taking this journey.

After that, I plan on being footloose and fancy-free, and working on this list: (Friday) Fifteen Things to do After the Completion of a Degree.

.: Sleep, glorious sleep. Lots of it.

.: Cook something for dinner, real food that doesn’t come out of a box and get mixed with milk, butter and powdered cheese. Or for that matter, real food that doesn’t come out of the freezer onto a cookie sheet. Also, eat dinner before 9:45 p.m. Hopefully, before 7:45 p.m.

.: Finish all of the unfinished projects around the house. Some things? Started last year when we moved in. Still unfinished. Shameful, I tell you. Maybe next Friday I’ll focus on fifteen half-started home projects. Here’s a preview:

.: Stain and re-hang the handrail going up the stairs
.: Re-do to upstairs bathroom
.: Paint and finish the upstairs hallway
.: Hang the new tracklighting over the fireplace

.: Read. A lot. This and this and this and this and thisandthisandthis. Oh, and this.

.: Get some use out of the gym membership and kick-ass running shoes purchased in February of this year. It’s surprisingly hard to stay motivated to workout alone after 16 hours out of the house at work and school.

.: Reacquaint myself with my bead collection, and turn out some necklaces and bracelets.

.: Spend time with all of the friends I’ve neglected over the past semesters. I have some great friends who have been so patient with me since I’ve gone back to school, and I miss them.

.: Do something with the 10 ft. x 15 ft. patio wasting away out the back door. My goal is to buy some plants and plant-stands, giant pots and planters, and a bench or table and chairs so we can extend our living space out the back of the house. I’m going to need some help with this one… I’m green-challenged.

.: Teach myself more about web design and development. There’s so much I want to know, it’s overwhelming. I want to know about HTML, CSS, XML, Java, all of it…

.: Me Time. I totally earned it.

p.s. I know this list has only 10 items on it, but if you count the sub-lists, there are 21-ish. Work with me, people. I’m sleepy.