The Aquabats! Part Deux! Electric Bugaloo!

We saw The Aquabats again last night. Simon did me so proud. He's always pretty tired lately, what with the chemo. So it was kind of a crap shoot how he would be. We waited in line outside for about an hour and he was limp and all but asleep. I did not have high expectations.

We managed to get on the guest list for the meet & greet, thanks to some awesome friends. When we went in they played Doing Science and Showtime. Then we went to meet them. Simon just wanted to sit off to the side, but I wouldn't let him. The first we met was Bones. Luckily everyone knew Simon on sight because I'm never sure what to say. Everyone signed his cape and we thanked everyone for the song. We announced he was having his last chemo the next day and I guess we were overheard because some stranger that was there bought Simon the coloring book and told him to "fight the good fight".   Crash was totes adorbs and asked if we could do a picture. I asked if we could do a big group shot since the last one didn't come out so well. Of course they indulged.

Then the most amazing thing happened. Simon climbed out of my arms and had a few Team Simon wristbands and went from Aquabat to Aquabat handing them out. It was the most adorable thing I ever saw. What a huge deal!

Meeting The MCBC was interesting. I told him about my inlaws knowing him way back in the day. He totally remembers my husband's brothers and said he remembers my husband being born. He said his dad and my father in law were good friends. It felt like a feat to sort of blow his mind.



We were invited back stage to do the picture. We waited for a couple of minutes and caught MCBC sans mask and dome. Simon was very curious and looked around as much as he could. We took several pictures but he still wouldn't smile. Finally MCBC got him to smile by tickling him. The only way I could tell is because Simon was hiding his mouth so they couldn't see his huge smile.

While we waited for the opening band, Simon did some Simon stuff, marching around and crazy dancing. He also knew now where The Aquabats were and really wanted to go back and see them again, pointing at the door. I think if we ever do get to see them again he'll do even better. Luckily they had some seats in the back because Simon did not want to get up close. I had no interest in Emily's Army and was glad when they were done.

The Aquabats played a lot of older stuff, like pre FEOD, which is a fairly old album.  There was a group of "punks" "dancing" in a circle but there were also lots of kids. The chicken man came out throwing chicken and a big inflatable dinosaur  tried to get him but MCBC chased him away which Simon cracked a smile at. He made it through the entire thing even though he was so tired.

Round 2

Maybe I should have written sooner. But I haven't yet, so here goes.

The beast has returned. The monster. (As an aside he only a couple of days started to be able to say monster instead of monter.)  The cancer. In his brain this time. He is starting his second round of chemo tonight.

Why did this have to happen?  Why couldn't Dr. Thompson catch me in the hall and quickly tell me what I already knew, that Simon is perfect?  And why does Dr. Thompson have to move away now that everything is getting scary?  I'm literally in tears over it.

He called me about a year ago when I was on a drive for work which was really just an excuse to have my mental breakdown in the privacy of my own car. He asked how I was and I lost it, sobbing nearly uncontrollably. He empathized with me and talked me off a ledge. And then there was the time last chemo when he told his room full of students that Simon is very dear to him.

When we brought Simon to the ER last month, it was the early hours of a Sunday morning when we were told there was an abnormality in his brain. All any doctor could do from that point until Tuesday(?) evening when I finally saw Dr. Thompson is frown and tell me they're sorry and everyone is talking about what to do. Nobody could tell me he had a chance. All I could take from their sorrys is they were sorry my son was going to die. All I kept saying to everyone is I want to see Dr. Thompson.

Once I did I immediately felt better. Simon's cancer is so incredibly rare it's hard to know what will happen but he did say more or less that Simon has a fighting chance. His tumor is inoperable now, but we'll get it down to size with some chemo and possibly radiation.


He has his next MRI in about 3 weeks. That will be the scariest piece of news I may ever receive. Even the news of cancer isn't as scary.  This will tell us if the chemo is working. Bad news will destroy all hope, at least for the short term. And our real doc won't be there. So help me if it's bad news and all I get is a frown and "I'm sorry" I shall not be responsible for my actions.

I think most of the time I'm in denial of the gravity of the situation. I don't think I could survive if I thought my son may not make it to kindergarten. But at night when I rock him I sometimes almost can't put him down because I feel like someday I may wish for just five more minutes with him. Just one more minute. And curse myself for not appreciating what I had.