Yesterday was to be a big day for us. Shayley was to represent Floyd County in the Regional Spelling Bee in Roanoke,

sponsored by The Roanoke Times and a Scripps Howard qualifying bee for the National Bee.

When Shayley first heard of the National Spelling Bee a couple years ago, it had become her goal to get there. Even when she won her school bee and the County bee,  I had tried to keep her expectations in check since this was her first year (Shayley’s in 5th grade and students up through 8th grade can compete in the bees.) We planned a trip to Krispy Kreme to see donuts made right after the regional bee, regardless of the outcome. She loves cooking and pondering foods, AND eating donuts.

There was a 15 page study guide of words, about a third of which I couldn’t pronounce. When I stumbled, she would laugh and say she needed a better spelling coach (think Laurence Fishburn in Akeelah and the Bee.) But,we knew that was just a guide and other words could be thrown in from the competition (any of nearly 500,000 words in the Webster’s Third New International Dictionary.)

Shayley got a confidence building from her teacher, Alice Hardin, Friday night just before bed. She slept well, except for the dream where she got knocked out in the first round of the regional bee. I, too, had a bee nightmare, dreaming that I overslept and caused us to miss the whole thing.

When Shayley came downstairs Saturday morning, I was making her favorite breakfast of chocolate-chip pancakes. But then she said she didn’t feel so good. She had a lot of congestion, plus she’s prone to acid-reflux trouble, so I was hoping it was those, compounded by nerves and that they would fade away as she got ready. But, no, she spent the entire morning nauseated on the couch, watching the clock knowing we needed to leave by 8:30. It was terrible. We prayed for calm, health and clarity. She vomited at least 3 times at home, and got sicker when she’d stand. Charlie had her sniffing peppermint and trying to drink mint tea. I gave her an antacid when she liked to never swallowed. It didn’t help. At 8:30, though, she said she was ready to walk to the car. Yep, sick again.

It continued. We pulled off in Riner, once right on I-81, once at the rest-area, and once along 581. We carried the pan into the Holiday Inn where we headed straight to the bathroom. She emerged feeling some better. I took the plastic bag out of the pan, left the pan under a bench in the restroom, and put the bag in my purse just in case. We walked into the competition room.

It was great to see by brother Martin, his wife Vicky and our friend Terry Belcher there! We sat down on the front row so Shayley didn’t have to walk very far. Charlie got her some water. She was anxious for the bee to get started. Finally they welcomed everyone and called the contestants out in the order they would spell. Shayley was first. This was good, it meant she would sit closest to the microphones and not have as far to walk. At this point, I was just hoping she would not vomit or pass out on stage, since she hadn’t had the first bite to eat all day and it was 10 a.m.

They did a practice round. The judges said they couldn’t hear Shayley and that she’d have to speak up.

Then it finally began. After she would spell a word, she would look relaxed. I scoped out the competition, assuming that the older kids were likely the toughest competition. They came in every size, shape and color.  A couple were out in the first round. Before you know it, they were down to 8 (from 18, I think) and the pronouncer called for a break. Shayley stepped down and said to us, “This is kind of fun.” Wow. Wow.

She drink a little water and had  a couple bits of pastries they had there, but she said it was too sweet and she didn’t want to risk getting sick again.

They called them up to began again. New words began to be called that hadn’t been on the spelling list. Spellers were knocked out quickly now. It came down to Shayley and a boy from Covington and had been featured in Dan Casey’s Roanoke Times column as one of the two spellers returning from last year’s regional bee.

Before I knew it, he had missed a word. Since Shayley was the first speller of each round, that meant just one word stood between her and a expenses-paid trip to the National Spelling Bee in Washington DC. The pronouncer said the word. I had never heard it. I was trying to think how I might spell it and Shayley was busy asking for definition and language of origin. Some other spellers had done this routinely through out, but she had known the previous words. I knew this meant she wasn’t familiar with the word either and was buying time to think it out. The word was “homuncular.” (I had to look it up just now to see how to spell it!) It means an abnormally small person, though not a dwarf.  

After she spelled it, I didn’t know if it was right, so I was watching the judge. “Correct,” she said. I couldn’t believe it. I was SO happy for Shayley.  Shayley showed almost no visible expression of joy on her face (she explained to me later than she didn’t want to seem to be gloating while the other spellers were still present.) After the ceremony, the Roanoke Times reporter interviewed her and finally one presenter asked her if she was happy. Without smiling, she said yes.

After everyone else was gone, we collected our pan from the restroom. Charlie called his dad and then his brother in Utah. We headed to Krispy Kreme, and the smiles finally emerged. Ah, the sweet taste of victory.

Gratefully,

Lydeana

We’ve had a great several days.

Sunday morning we were nearly late for church, which wouldn’t have been all that unusual except I needed to be there on time to share my testimony. I had invited my family and everyONE arrived before us! We had been rushing around the house packing for our camping trip–which we were heading on right after church and lunch with my family. If you are ever scheduled to speak for the first time at your church, I would recommend not trying to pack for a camping trip the same morning–ESPECIALLY if you’ve just started a major new diet restriction (gluten-free) that requires a lot of extra effort!

It all went well. It was so wonderful to have my family all together in our church.

After a quick trip to the store to get a loaf of bread for Charlie and Shayley and Reese’s pieces for me, we headed on to Smith Mountain Lake State Park for three nights.  The campground was largely empty, just as we’d hoped. And we got the closest campsite to the bathhouse, just as I’d hoped! It rained the first evening midway through fixing supper, but it was no big problem. Charlie and I have been rained on so many times camping that we should be prepared and mostly were.

Charlie had everything neatly organized and packed up. (He and I use to backpack, so after that, car-camping it luxurious.) We were heading out fishing Sunday evening and I stopped him from carrying the boxes of food back to the car. Having gone down in elevation a couple thousand feet, it didn’t feel like bear country. So we enjoyed fishing–Shayley and I saw lots of fish, even though Charlie’s the only one who CAUGHT any.

When we got back, Shayley and I headed straight for the bathrooms at camp. When we finally got to the campsite, Charlie was stirred up. He pointed up a tree, but it was so dark by then I couldn’t see a thing. Turns out, just as Charlie had walked up, he had seen our loaf of bread climbing a tree. Well, of course, it was being carried in a raccoon’s mouth. He had nothing to throw at it. And it was one of those rare times  when  he had no weapons around.

Most of the food was in a large cooler, locked plastic chest, and a rubbermaid box, but that raccoon had knocked the one cardboard box of foods off the table and sure enough it had cracked  open and hatched out a fresh, full loaf of bread for him.

Before we went to bed, Charlie carried that box to our vehicle and locked it inside. As we lay in our sleeping bags trying to go to sleep, I kept thinking of that loaf of bread being hoisted up a tree and told Charlie that perhaps this was a sign that we ALL needed to give up gluten! (wheat and related flours) He rather thought it was a sign that one should never be without a weapon. And he found a throwable stick before bed, just in case another opportunity arose.

Sure enough, during the night, he heard two of them in a tussle and he got after them. They ran up trees, put he beaned one at 25 feet with a stick. Of course, one of them dropped  a bread-bag bomb on him.

Shayley was very interested to learn the next morning that the raccoon had eaten most of the loaf of bread, except the crust. A non-crust eater herself, she quickly  reasoned that if a raccoon does not eat crusts, she should not be expected to either.

We spent our days playing beach volleyball, fishing, cooking and eating–plus Charlie and Shayley swam at the beach area. Shayley also got interested in a book I brought to read, Know-It-All: One Man’s Humble Quest to Become the Smartest Person in the World. It was one of those $4 books I’d never heard of from the book fair. It’s about a fellow who set out to read the Encyclopedia Britannica–all 33,000 pages. it’s  a mix of what he learned and lived during that time.  I read it aloud to her during times I had to rest and before bed. The next thing I know she started reading it alone with I was cooking or cleaning.

The second night, rather than tote all the food back to the car (about 100 feet away) , we decided to just  tuck  all the food boxes up under the seats of the heavy picnic table, so that the raccoon would have no room to open the lids. Let’s just say based on what I now know, I would never bet against a ‘coon when it comes to food. During the night we hear the rattle of plastic. Charlie bounded out of the tent only to find the raccoon had somehow opened the rubbermaid container enough to slide out the bag of rice crackers Charlie had gotten me. If you’ve ever had rice crackers, you’ll know why I felt I  could call it even with the Mr. Raccoon after that.

The next morning while Charlie was gone to the bathhouse, Shayley and I heard crumbs falling from trees. (Manna, anyone?)  I was telling Shayley about the stolen rice crackers. I started mimicking  a raccoon who was breaking into his newfound stack. “Pfh!!. . . that one’s no good, let me try the next one . . Pfh!!! no good.  . . . let me try the NEXT one.” She stepped this up a notch, “Pfh, where’s my gluten. . Pfh, where’s my high fructose corn syrup . .  Pfh, where’s my artificial preservatives . … .”

We left nothing outside the car for the rascals last night. But this morning, we heard folks across the way comparing notes on the marauding raccoons. We joined in the fun with our stories–perfect strangers around a picnic table near the bathhouse, bed-head and all–and everyone laughing quickly and heartily. It gave me a new appreciation of what those raccoons had done. They had made friends of strangers, and given Click to view slideshow.great stories and memories for us all.

And speaking of “for us all,” I’m an even bigger fan of state parks than before. Smith Mountain Lake State Park is a 1,200 acre area with 50 camps sites, miles of trails, a beach area, boat docks, fishing piers, picnic areas, discovery center, free interpretive activities (we did the raptor hayride and the treasure hunt/orienteering), and OH, the wildlife. 

Love to you all,

Lydeana

Hard to believe almost two months since I’ve written.  Life has been full of ups and downs, keyword being FULL.

I don’t really know where to begin to catch up on things. I developed some new tummy problems and went back to Duke early in May for yet another colonoscopy. Thankfully no sign of polyps or inflammation. I had already eliminated dairy, high fiber, and then lately salad from my diet to try to curb the inflammatory-bowel-disease-type symptoms. I’ll have a good day or two and think I have something figured out and then it reappears. I also continue to struggle with fatigue. Most evenings I have to lay down a couple hours as soon as I get home from work.  I occasionally do some grocery shopping or have a night meeting but am utterly wiped-out after that.  This may be somewhat related to the intestinal issues, or just linger effects of treatments, I’m not sure.

My white blood count continues to be low. This month I found out I’m very B-12 deficient and am now getting weekly shots for that. I hope this will help my energy level, but so far I can’t tell that it has. Last week I found out I have osteoporosis, too, so the doctor put me on big doses of D3 and calcium. I think they want me to do a prescription for that, too, but I haven’t decided.

When my oncologist first mentioned 6 months ago that I was in danger of developing osteoporosis, it was such good news to me. I thought–wow, he thinks I’m going to live long enough to get short someday! It immediately made me more optimistic. I didn’t really realize that someday would be so soon! Apparently I have had the perfect storm of surgeries and happenings to cause me to have fragile bones at age 40.  Maybe I’m naive, but I’m not worried at all about  it, and am still grateful for the boost of optimism it gave me then!

It is interesting, though, that in reading up on B12, calcium and D3 deficiencies, those could definitely explain the dizzy spells I was having a couple months ago. It also could explain exhaustion, diarrhea, and anxiety. It does not explain the increasing number of crinkly gray hairs, however. Maybe I’ll blame that on Charlie!

Speaking of Charlie, in late April he found out he’s officially in the nursing program at New River this fall! It will be a two-year program. He is taking the summer off from classes–after going 4 straight semester including last summer. Not that he’s had any extra time lately. He took a temporary job with the Census in late April because his appraisal work had still been so slow, plus he’s still been working some at the Tasting Room in Floyd. Thankfully his appraisal business has picked up some the past 6 weeks. I finally begged him to give up the TR job last week, so once the Census is done, he’ll be back to just one job for the summer!

Speaking of summer, Shayley’s summer is almost here. Just 4 days of school left. The 4th grade field trip to Monticello was Friday, and Charlie and I both took the day off to go.  I was so worried about not having the energy to make the tour, and did NOT want to have to resort to a wheelchair for Shayley’s sake. Charlie and I drove separately and got there 2 hours ahead of the bus. I laid down about an hour and was able to make it through the house tour just fine. Then I rested while they went to Thomas Jefferson’s grave.

Then after the rest of the class had left, the three of us checked out the Monticello vegetable garden. WOW! It was amazing. The cool weather crops were full grown and they were just putting in the warm weather things. It was so magnificent–yet it made me feel quite inadequate in thinking about our few little plants piddling along. Charlie made me feel better when he pointed out that if we had a full staff tending our gardens, they would probably look better, too!

We had hoped to camp at Sherando Lake National Forest Friday night, but they don’t take reservations and they were already booked by 8:15 a.m. Friday. So, we ended up staying in Staunton. I cannot stay in Staunton without thinking of the Statler Brothers, but I didn’t see them anywhere:-)

 Charlie and I love to go to the Green Valley Book Fair and we finally got to take Shayley. It is a dangerous place for 3 book addicts to go, but it’s hard to go wrong when books are mostly $1 to $4 each. And there was a bonus this time–they had used books; you could take all you wanted and just donate whatever it was worth to you!

Saturday, then, we went for a day visit to Sherando Lake, intent on taking Shayley to swim and fish. As soon as she came out of the bathhouse with her bathing soon on, she started coughing. It quickly became this scary cough and she felt sick at her stomach. For the first time in 4 or 5 years, she had an asthma attack, right then and there. She was terrified without knowing what it was. And I was scared, too, because just a few months ago I quit carrying an inhaler because I decided she didn’t need it anymore. WRONG! (By the way, I now know that people do NOT really outgrow asthma–attacks may be brought on by fewer things or less frequently, but the danger is still there.) I’m pretty certain the trigger in this case was people cooking out with charcoal–and the smoke settling in the valley there.   We got out of there as fast as we could, but Shayley still was not doing well. THANKFULLY, Charlie found an inhaler he had gotten a few months earlier because of burning his lungs by inhaling some gases.  This helped Shayley breathe better almost instantly, but we still headed up the road as she was now scared to be there.

We did get get to do some creek fishing (my favorite)  a little ways down the road. We have been fishing several times lately at my prompting–and it rains almost every time. So now, whenever a storm is rolling in, Charlie and Shayley rib me by asking if I don’t think it would be a good time to go fishing.

Traveling is often difficult for me–not being away from home, but being on the road and not near a restroom. I was VERY glad when we pulled up the driveway back home. Shayley, too, was glad not to be travelling up and down mountains, which she had discovered she didn’t enjoy. We were all anxious to check on our chickens, who are now 2.5 months old or so. Shayley was devastated when we could not find Rotini, a crippled, silver-laced wyandotte. Rotini suffered splayed leg and we had spoiled her as often as we could by holding her and hand-feeding her. We never found her, nor any sign of her. We don’t know what happened to her, though I expect a passing predator got her. She certainly couldn’t have gotten away from anything. Shayley was heart-broken, and still was today when she went out to check the chickens.

We had planned to take Shayley to Claytor Lake State Park today so she could finally swim, but there was a storm heading right that direction. So, after already loading into the car, we decided to head to Fairy Stone State Park instead. We were there nearly 4 hours before it rained. This time we were prepared with the inhaler and everything was fine. The first 3 hours I had no tummy troubles, which was wonderful.

We managed to go for a boat ride.   It was at once scary and thrilling to be on the water. I can’t swim, but had a life jacket on. I tried not to think of how deep the water was. We saw turtles sunning themselves and slipping into the water as we paddled near them.  We saw fish, of course, and then along a little alcove a little fawn alone.  Then, when we got the boat back to shore, Shayley and Charlie finally got to swim and I rested. 

Then, this evening Shayley and I put out a few more plants in our garden as it actually hadn’t rained here today.

Saturday, when we had gotten up and I realized I had failed to bring any of Shayley’s medicines with me, it occurred to me how very little traveling of any type we’ve done with her these last two years. Charlie and I have stayed away from home so much for medical trips that we’re used to just throwing our stuff in a bag and going. But she has not been with us on those trips and her joy in being out and about was obvious.

So, despite some downs, it has been a great weekend–and month–as we were out living: soaking up the scenery, buying books,  learning lessons, following the fish, then greening the garden, ALL together.

A couple weeks ago I got the opportunity to share my testimony at a friend’s church. The process of writing that really helped me put things in perspective.  (This coming Sunday, I’ll share it at our church.)

Then, we’re heading off to Smith Mountain Lake State Park to camp a couple days.

My next overnight medical trip will be in July when I go back to Duke for a day of tests including the PET scan to check the liver spot. We pray it is unchanged, or, even better, has disappeared.

Love to you all,

Lydeana

Dear Friends,

I’ve been doing better the last few days and have actually worked pretty much a full week so far. I appreciate those of you who have written and sent notes of encouragement.

Wanted to let you know that Shayley will be a featured guest at the free, First Fridays event at the Jacksonville Center for the Arts in Floyd this Friday. It goes from 5 to 8 p.m., I understand. Books will be available and Shayley will be signing, so please drop by and see us. There will be snacks and lots of cool stuff to see. (If you don’t know, the Jacksonville Center is a renovated two-story barn just outside the town of Floyd, on Route 8 South—email us or see www.jacksonvillecenter.org for directions.)

My next vaccine at Duke is Tuesday, November 10. Since the doctor said the reactions will likely get worse each time, we’re just going prepared to stay in Durham for a few days in case we need to get back to the hospital there. Just two more vaccines to go!

I made the mistake a couple nights ago of looking at the latest prognosis on Stage IV Colorectal cancer patients. The average survival time past the metastatic surgery is 13 months. I can’t quite relate what it feels like to read numbers like that. No matter how much your head knows that averages encompass wide ranges and that it’s not an upper limit, it sets your heart and mind sideways, and you get a queasy feeling in your gut. Here in a couple weeks, I’ll be at the 12-month mark. I’ve realized that for a year-and-a-half now I’ve been adjusting to the idea that life may span only another year. The funny thing, my mind never allows that time to reduce. It’s as if I’m in a perpetual mode of living one more year. Not a bad way to live, as long as it’s always one more year.

I don’t dread Tuesday all that much (yet), but already I feel the tension rising in anticipation of December 1st when I have my next CT scan at Duke. I think I used this analogy back in early July, but it’s like waiting to see what your sentence is—except you hope for life. When questionable pains or discomforts arise, the anxiety only builds. In these times, the highs are higher, as you try to thrill in the time spent with family and friends, and the lows are lower as anxiety swallows patience. I know that I become more fun in some ways, but also more difficult to live with and be around. So pray for Charlie and Shayley!

I continue to pray that God grant me 9 more years to raise Shayley and to encourage Charlie as he transitions to a new career. I thank you for your patience in listening to these things, and for your countless prayers on this journey.

With love, Lydeana

We had a great time at the Woman’s Club Arts and Crafts Festival. I got both a funnel cake and a 2-hour nap in today so it was a splendid day!

I saved my energy for getting to and from the vehicle rather than looking around any, so Shayley made some pictures of some people and art today for me to see. Here are ALL of them!

Blessings to all,

Lydeana

The talented Mountain View bluegrass and comedy gang!

My Dad (skinny one) next to Earl Scruggs, on Earl’s front porch.

Dear Friends,

 I thank you all so much for your encouragement and well wishes following the vaccine. I’m doing really well with no discernable side-effects from the vaccine except a sore, red knot on my right thigh. I don’t know if it’s as much reaction as they hoped for or not, but they asked us to literally measure and record the size of the redness and knot.

 I had fun on Saturday and Sunday. We didn’t have too many people at the book signing—things only started getting busy at the Store about time we were planning to leave. By that time, I was tired, so we called it a day. I guess we should have selected an afternoon time, but who knew?! We had a great time nonetheless with those who came. And we enjoyed spending some time with author and photographer Fred First. He taught us several things—like having more stuff on our table than just the book so people will feel more comfortable walking up to the table. So, if Shayley wants to, we’re going to try making some bookmarks and notecards during the next few evenings to have with us at Sweet Providence Market this coming Saturday morning (10 a.m. to Noon.)

Except for still having to nap or at least lay down for a while each day, the last 3 days have been remarkably unremarkable as far as symptoms overall. I’ve cut back on dairy products, and it actual seems to have leveled out the bowel swings somewhat as long as I rest often. I LOVE dairy, though, so it will be harder to gain weight when I’m trying not to eat ice cream! Thankfully, there are still fresh tomatoes to eat—they make so many things good.

Saturday evening I met up with 3 friends I graduated high school with. Hard to believe it’s been 21 years. We had SUCH a good time of fellowship and fun. We went to Mountain View Church in Meadows of Dan for a special event—where the men served our meal, plus several of them put on a great bluegrass and comedy show. (e.g. Q: Who was the great financier in the Bible? A:Pharoah’s daughter—she went down to the Bank of the Nile and pulled out a little “prophet.” –OK, well, it was funny in person.) It was the second time that day I felt almost visited by my Dad: earlier at the Country Store someone showed us a book there that had a picture I’d never seen of Dad playing his banjo with the Bolt twins; then, my dad had once sold a Gibson mandolin to the pastor, Terry Martin, who was playing Saturday night; then when someone else picked up a banjo and began to play, it was almost tangible– everytime I hear a banjo in church, I feel the resonance of Dad’s music in my soul.

Then Blonnie Gregory—who along with her husband, has been ministering from an 18-wheeler for over 30 years—shared some thoughts with us. Her message was about praying for God’s guidance at important decision points in our lives. I was riveted by her stories, especially of the teenage runaways she’s tried to help at truck stops around the country.  One young girl in California came up to their chapel (in the trailer of their truck). Blonnie listened to her and then tried to talk her into going home. The teenager assured her that she knew what she was doing and that she was careful who she climbed into a vehicle with. Again, Blonnie begged her to go home. Blonnie watched when she left and she climbed into a truck with a stranger. Three weeks later, Blonnie saw a wanted poster in another truck stop in California: the person had stabbed the young girl to death.

She told another story of a young man they met who had been out on the road. She waved him down and gave him coupons to McDonalds that the church had given them. After they began to talk, he told her his story; there had been 9 of them on the road at one time—doing as they please—drugs, alcohol, free-wheel living. Now, the other 8 were dead from various accidents, violence and overdoses. She asked him why he thought he was left alive. He said, with tears, that he felt sure it was because he had a Mom and Dad at home praying for him.

I am convinced there is no more important thing we can do in this world than open our hearts to God in prayer—about our children, our family, our friends, our leaders, our hurts, our failures, our losses, our doubts, our fears, and our ideas. While prayer can often feel like an unanswered message, I am convinced it is more. Prayer changes the pray-er, for one thing. And, as we see in Scripture, there are times that God has intervened in the course of history because of prayer. None of us have the promise of tomorrow. I am convinced that I have had my life extended to this point because of the faithful prayers of you all. Saying a simple “thank you” feels so inadequate, but I don’t know what else to do.

I am so grateful to have had some very good days of late. Shayley and I have played a little ball in the yard the last two evenings for the first time in over a year. I have actually felt relaxed and had some fun.

I thank you for praying with me for more time. And I pray that I will do what God wants me to do with any time I’m given.

Love,

Lydeana