Mr. Frog Bites Off More Than He Can Chew

Today marks the one-year anniversary of my father’s passing and the day began with my sisters, brother and I passing thinking-of-you text messages.  Nancy’s message included thoughts about it being an “auspicious day” for Keith to head to Afghanistan. I read her message just before walking into my office. (Thanks for that, Nancy.)  A quick dash for the tissue box, a couple of hugs from my co-workers, and my workday began.

My cell phone chirped several more times – Judy, then Harry, then Tracy all texted short messages.  We were thinking of Pop, of the day he died, and the year’s events – Mother’s death six months after Pop’s, babies born, life lived.

In the midst of my siblings’ text messages came one short message from Jeff, “Mr. Frog is dead.”  Oh!  Too bad!  We’d enjoyed the bullfrog’s 4 a.m. concerts from our tiny little pond.  The smaller frog had already disappeared.  The frog, formerly known as Three-O’Clock, had grown quite large this summer.  We joked that he grew by the approximate size of the smaller frog, “Maybe he ate it.” 

My work was interrupted once again when Keith called.  He was not yet on an airplane and it sounded like he had a loooong trip ahead of him – commercial flight to Kazakhstan, then military flight to Afghanistan.  He’d been awake since 7 a.m. yesterday.  Poor guy.

No sooner had I returned to my desk when Jeff called.  He’d missed Keith’s call because his cell phone was in the truck for the couple of hours he was working.  Jeff also reported on the means by which the bullfrog died.  Spying a dead bird in the pond (this seems to be happening a little more frequently this summer than most), he grabbed the pooper-scooper to retrieve the carcass.  As he lifted the bird out of the water, the frog came, too!  Evidently, the frog tried unsuccessfully to swallow the bird.  Jeff tried to yank the little wretch out of the frog’s mouth in the hopes that the frog could be revived but it was too late.  Both creatures succumbed from the trauma.

As I hung up the phone, I reminded Jeff that we had Chicken Lessons with Emily when I got home from work.  We are finally reciprocating for all the dog-sitting Emily has done for us.  We would be taking care of her three chickens which lay three different colored eggs.  We’ll be paid in eggs.

Despite the heat and humidity, we decided to walk the three blocks to Emily’s house.  Emily took us out to the coop and pointed to two of her birds and commented, “Hmm.   Where is the other one?”  She opened the hutch door and made the sad discovery.  I took baby Lincoln off her hands while she dealt with the remains.  She is a stoic, pragmatic animal lover yet we felt sorry for her loss.  We discussed methods of keeping the hutch cool during the heat wave, got our instructions for feed and water and closing them in at night.  We enjoyed a short visit before heading home.

On Friday, Jeff went to the Perelman Center.  Nurse Heather thought he looked good.

“I know,” he said.  “People can’t see what I’ve been through.  It was more fun when I looked like I was dying.”

Heather laughed.  Jeff told her he was going to meet his donor and that his donor makes him think about why bad things happen to good people.  He related Nicole and Nicholas’s story.  Heather cried.  She asked if she could share their story with her mother who doesn’t understand why babies get cancer. 

Dr. Porter decided Jeff didn’t need labs drawn.  Then he changed his mind.  I was relieved to check those liver function numbers since they were improved a month ago but not back to where they had been before GVHD.  Although his numbers are better now, Dr. Porter said Jeff would have to stay on the current dosage of Cellcept for another six months before he would consider tapering. 

Our little Rosie was baptized on Sunday.  A party at Kerry and Theresa’s followed.  It was lovely – and hot.  Jeff and some of the young men played horseshoes.  Last summer Jeff could not play quoits (a 21-foot throw) and this summer he can play horseshoes (40-foot throws).  The next day Jeff’s arms were a little bit sore – that’s all.

We are thankful that Jeff is doing well and we are praying for safe travels for Keith and all those serving our country.