When I found out back in early June that a writer for the Boston Globe wanted to do a profile of me / my new book, I was thrilled. And then when I found out it was going to be a front-page feature in the “G” section of the paper (the lifestyle section, although it always makes me think: G-spot) I was ecstatic. Such fabulous publicity!
But when it came out yesterday, my mood took a nosedive. It felt so irrelevant, so strange, so wrong. Excited and ecstatic were about the last words I’d use to describe how I felt. (It doesn’t help that there are some other issues related to this whole adventure that have been stressing me out over the past couple of days. More on those later, maybe.)
I did the interview with the writer — who was absolutely lovely — a little over a month ago. In fact, it was the day after we took Clio to the pediatrician for the first time, to investigate the several weeks of leg pain and strange, spiking fevers and vague belly aches she’d been having.
At that visit, they drew her blood to test for Lyme disease and rheum factor, and to get a complete blood count. It came back normal — just a slightly elevated white blood cell count, consistent with a virus, and borderline anemia. I was relieved (and felt slightly ridiculous) because I’d actually suspected leukemia.
That feels like another lifetime ago.
I did tell the writer about the new situation, only because she was going to include a mention of a reading I had coming up. I cancelled the reading, and wanted to let her know. The piece was already written by that point, and it would have required an entire rewrite to weave in the leukemia story. (And I wouldn’t have wanted her to anyway.)
So there it is. A big ole story about me and my family, in a major newspaper, which feels to me like a relic from an earlier era. It’s hard to feel anything but…empty…about it. As a Facebook friend said to me, “I just wish you could enjoy this more.”
Me too.
(But I really am grateful to the writer, Karen Campbell. for making it happen. Thanks for such a lovely piece.)
On a lighter note: between 12 am and 9 am this morning, Clio ate:
- 1.5 personal pizzas
- 2 mozzarella sticks (string cheese)
- A giant bowl of yogurt
- Scrambled eggs
- Bacon
- A snack cup full of pretzels
- 3 snack cups full of potato chips (Cape Cod, of course)
- About 2 tablespoons of pesto, straight up.
I am very, very tired. And a little grossed out.
I’ll be excited for you. You can be excited in retrospect when it feels right.
And that list made me full just reading it.
Hang in there…..your story is a good reminder to all of us that life can turn on a dime. Keep your priorities straight and don’t sweat the small stuff….enjoy the small stuff. Get some rest…and take care of yourself.
Oh my. Do Clio’s meds make her hungry/ hyper? That’s quite astonishing.
It was a lovely article, and if nothing else, a snapshot of a time in your family.
Tuck that magazine away and one day when this is all behind you, pull it out and celebrate.
Sending you and your family positive, good energy every day! Hang in there.
Just finding your blog after my mother sent me the article (I have 1 year old twins). So sorry for to read the news about Clio. I’m not big on prayer, but your family is in my thoughts. I concur with the advice above to be excited when it feels right and to take care of yourself.
Keep the pesto, bacon, chips & cheese coming- your girl has a great palate!
As everyone else is saying, put the article aside and when you are ready, you’ll celebrate it and appreciate it.
I wanted to mention that the description of the story on the cover is appropriate – “How a Medford mother of twins faced the chaos and survived it.” You are facing chaos once again. You will survive this too, though it may not seem it right now. You will come out the other end a different person, changed in a big way. Facing crises does that to a person, but you WILL come out the other end. You will experience joy, you will appreciate the everyday stuff. You have a new normal now and it freaking sucks big time. But when you finally allow yourself to accept this new normal, you will begin walking down the new path and re-building your “new” normal life. I talk from painful experience and I know this to be true. Practically impossible to accept, but true. My thoughts are with you.
A day at a time…
And I eat pesto straight up all the time! it’s delish. God bless.
Some good advice here! Hoping all those carbs give her body the strength to fight hard, while you are her emotional strength. Hugs.
It is such a weird disconnect – funny and profound and kind of hopeful and yet sad and strange. Maybe the girls will get a kick out of it, all the same. Looking back on it later, I’m sure it will still be kind of heartbreaking. But cool too, maybe?
On a lighter note – I think it had been a long time since you posted photos of the girls on Babble, and I can’t believe how grown up they both look. The nine months or so between them and my kid seems huge right now.
Yeah, that seemed pretty far out, to read it (online, when you posted on fb or someplace?) and everyone’s so smiley and so very not-in-the-hospital.
Major props to Clio on the food consumption. That all sounds great, makes the sandwich I’m about to make in the office look pretty boring.
Jane- I am Williams class of ’96 too. I really feel for you and have only a small clue what you are going through. My brother’s 8 year old daughter (my niece Hannah) is at Boston Children’s Hospital also battling leukemia (AML). She was just diagnosed one week ago yesterday. It turns your life upside down and most certainly makes most things seem irrelevant… I’ll be thinking of Clio and who knows, maybe you will meet Hannah at Children’s, floor 6 north. She has to stay for 4-5 months so she will be there. All the best and Clio will most definitely kick this. She’ll be eating bacon and pesto for many many years to come :)!
Aileen (Keenan) Baker
It was a really nice article. And a nice introduction to your family, for those not fortunate enough to know you personally. It’s the story up until now. Maybe the Globe can revisit when you have a better handle on the next chapter. Best of luck and many good healing vibes.
If the Globe article helps sell your wonderful book, it’s all good. Hugs to you & your family. Hope Clio and Elsa like “Storefront Bingo.” If you haven’t received it yet, it should be arriving soon. Warmly, Susan
I don’t really know what to write here, or why I am writing? But yourself and Clio are in my now elevated thoughts, and dreams. I will always hope and wish the best for you both, and through your positive energy and thought, and the same from others, i know you’ll get through this.
stay positive
love
jamie (an old family friend)
Congrats on the front page story and I am also sad you cannot enjoy this more right now. I am so proud of you in many ways.
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