Thanksgiving

The calender says that it's Thanksgiving Day, but things feel different this year. I don't smell turkey. Instead, I hear a washing machine thundering away on its rinse cycle somewhere above our room at the Ronald McDonald House. But, that's okay; it's all a matter of perspective. For example, I've been known to tell younger relatives right before the meal that I can smell a dead bird in the kitchen. Those preparing the meal have never appreciated the investigation that follows, but you do what you have to do.

And what Raul Matthew found himself doing this morning is seeing some of the food he ate yesterday. So, I'm guessing there will be no trips to visit Melissa and Myla at the hospital today.

But, that's where the fun starts. When all systems are go, little creativity is required. Life is less interesting when you walk in the well-worn rut of the typical Thanksgiving Day--the cooking, the dinner, the family pogo stick hop around the neighborhood right after dinner, the football game, etc. But this year, we'll live Thanksgiving Day without a script. And I welcome this opportunity to seize the day, although Ralphe Diem may be a better description of how the day will turn out.

I should also say that there really is more to Thanksgiving at the House besides runaway washing machines on the second floor. The nursing students at IUPUI are bringing in a huge Thanksgiving Dinner, and the only reason I can't smell the turkey is because dinner will be served in the north wing of the house, and our room is in the south wing.

1:28 PM...I grabbed a plate of food and ate it back at the room, and to my surprise, Raul Matthew wanted one as well. I put a small amount of food on his plate, and he ate even less, which is probably better for now.

Here are a few random pictures from our journey so far:

1. A special mask that had to be made for Myla because she's so small.
2. Tony Dungy's greeting to Myla.
3. I just want to know who would volunteer this.

5:45 PM...Well, I did a couple things to try to make this day special. First, I dressed up. I didn't need to, but I did it for myself nonetheless. That lasted for only an hour or so until I had serious laundry to do in light of RM's sickness, but that's okay. Second, I made a dinner of pork medallions using my cast iron skillet and two entire heads of garlic.

Thanks to Melissa for the post above this one. As she gets time, I'm sure she'll add more updates and reflections. I certainly agree with what she wrote and have been mulling over a good way to answer some of the good questions we sometimes get, such as, "How do you all make it through this without falling apart?" We could answer that in a line or two, but it's a bit like reducing a presidential campaign to a handful of soundbites. In time, I would like to write the "Mylan Creed," which will articulate the metaphysical, epistemological, and axiological assumptions that form the interpretive framework for how we see Myla's condition.