Joy and pain . . . like sunshine and rain (sing it, now God's children . . .)!

Okay, not that I'm really into R&B, or religion (even less . . . and please don't get me started . . . I said religion, not God. Big difference, in my book. And sometimes I question the existence the latter . . .), but who can't help but be overcome with both by this ol' skool tune by Rob Base and DJ E-Z Rock?! http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GKbY-62Pg3c . . . I know y'all will be heading over to itunes to download this totally 80's, yet timeless, dance tune. I'll wait till you get back . . . bust a move, peeps. . . (I'm chair dancing at the kitchen counter yet again to the video . . . I can feel Bob's eye's rolling as he lounges in the living room, because he's into R&B and religion even less than I . . .)

But, this li'l tune kind of sums up the past few weeks, literally and figuratively, in our world, and has been playing over and over in my head for several days, if not weeks now. Maybe not continually, but certainly makes a guest appearance quite frequently, like Steve Martin on SNL. Hasn't been a lot of physical pain for Bob these past few weeks (other than the usual leg/foot stuff), but lots of mental stuff going on, more so than we've faced as of yet. Sometimes that's harder than the physical stuff. The physical stuff, he can take a pill for, or lie down till it subsides, or when it gets truly intolerable, take a trip to the U for an injection, maybe an admission, till they get it under control. "Better living through pharmaceuticals," as Bob says. But the mental stuff. That's a tough one . . .

I have not been working weekends; main reason is to use them as a "back up" in case I need to reschedule a day of appointments at work to take Bob to an unscheduled doctor's (or other) appointment. It's nice to have these days of just being at home, quality time, if you will, where we have nothing—no work no appointments, no obligations—no nothing to interfere with "our" time, and we cherish it. It's always hit and miss, as far as Bob is feeling. Yesterday was not a good day, and so we stayed close to home. Bob didn't want me to stray too far, in case he needed me to take him in to the U (I think that unexpected hospital visit a few months ago, when this all began, still weighs heavily on his mind; any little symptom that is remotely similar . . .almost like flashbacks . . . ) when his anxiety became intolerable, he took an Ativan (an anti-anxiety med he was prescribed at his last ER visit, to be taken as needed) and eventually calmed down enough to go to bed and get some sleep.

Today, Bob felt good enough to take a walk through the neighborhood with Gaia and me, then hop in the car with me and head to Target for our weekly provisions. He even "sat" in the back seat today, with the help of a pillow under his left butt cheek (what's left of it, that is . . . if he gets to the point where he needs a butt implant, I will be the willing donor . . .) and some creative contorting. That's a first. We probably won't be trying that one for any long road trips, but he was able to tolerate it long enough to get to Target and back home again. A nice, leisurely stroll through Tar-jhay, and then back home.

My sister, Jill, called to see if she and her li'l peanut, Amelia, could pop in for a quick visit this afternoon. She asked if we needed anything, she always does. I feel bad—they live 45 minutes away, not an easy jaunt for a "quick" visit. I know she (as do so many people) feels so helpless and want to contribute however, whenever they can . . . but really, truly, we do not need much . . . we's simple folks. . . I hollered to Bob, who was watching golf (again!) in the living room, if he needed or wanted Jill to bring him anything. A moment's pause, then, "A Milky Way . . . and Sprees," shouted back from his place on the sofa. What the hell?!? My husband's chance to milk the sympathy card, and all he comes up with is a freaking candy bar and Sprees?!? Do they even make Sprees any more?! "You can get them at Holiday gas stations," Bob shouted, as though reading my mind. Really. Jill said, "I can deliver! There's a Holiday station on the way to your house, right? We'll be there shortly!"

Given the distance, it gave me time to clean the house a bit—vacuum, dust, change the bedding . . . as if our guests cared one way or another. I knew Jill and Amelia arrived when, about an hour later, Rocco started barking like a maniac . . . nearly a year with that li'l mutt, and I still cannot get used to a dog that barks, startles the bejeepers out of me, every time . . .

Jill and Amelia entered the house with a bag of candy and a bunch of lavender tulips in tow, beautiful purple tulips. "Your favorite color," Jill said as she handed me the bunch. I snipped the ends and put the flowers in a vase of water before turning my attention back to them. We had a great visit, chatting with Bob, playing with the dogs, taking a snack break, just hanging out. I was "Bad Auntie," (or would that be "Good Auntie!"), giving Amelia probably more that her share of Girl Scout Cookies and other treats, but hey—she's going home with Jill, not me! She's a funny kid (Amelia, not Jill)—Bob had fun teasing and tormenting her, as he does all his nieces and nephews. Jill eventually called an end to the day, with work deadlines looming. we bid the 45 minute "Hildebrandt adieu" (again, a Bob-ism), and Jill and Amelia were heading back home, to Golden Valley.

Bob went to lay down, I continued with my laundry and not long after Jill and Amelia left, Rocco was sounding the alarm again, running from patio door to front window, barking like a mad dog on crack. I guessed it was either wild turkeys in the yard or a neighbor walking their dog, and went to the window to see what had worked the R-man into such a frenzy. When I looked outside, I saw a gaggle of neighbors, kids and dogs in tow, heading to the cul-de-sac just beyond our home.

I told Bob that a group of neighbors was walking by and if he was feeling up to it, maybe he might want to head outside and say "hi," a surprise guest appearance, if you will. Might do a body good, to get outside again, have another connection with the "real world." Even though we live in the boonies, we have incredible neighbors. People who watch over us, say prayers for us, deliver monster cookies (made with fresh, not frozen, monsters, no less) and other goodies, and check in whenever and however they can. Even in the boonies, we are not alone. I expected Bob to decline the invite, which I would not have blamed him, as it had already been an action-packed day.

Surprisingly, Bob rose from the couch, donned a baseball cap and Polartec and slowly made his way out the door and up the driveway, to meet the neighbors as they made their way back past our house. I joined him, with Rocco on leash and Gaia behind bars on the deck (she loves, loves, loves people, but basically hates other dogs, so it's best to keep her separated). We spent at least 15-20 minutes chatting, laughing and shooting the breeze with our neighbors—two families, with children and dogs—out for a late afternoon walk. Such a great time. The only thing missing were beers!

When Bob commented that his head was getting cold (he had only a baseball cap to cover those 12 hairs left on his scalp), the group called their children back, we untangled the dogs, we said our goodbye's, and all were on their merry way. We returned to the house, Bob to the couch, me to my laundry. A few minutes passed and Bob shuffled into the kitchen. He said to me, "I really liked having Jill and Amelia out here today. And I'm really glad you told me the neighbors were walking by, so I could go outside and say 'hi.' Today, was a really good day for me. Instead of popping an Ativan, all I needed was to talk to some people . . . I feel really good today . . ." Hugs, not drugs, is our new motto!

So, a few more days at home, then hopefully, we'll be packing Bob up for one more stint at Club Chemo. He has said that this time, he wants visitors. Lots of 'em. Stay tuned!

LOVE!

Jen, Bob, Gaia and Rocco