As I sit here, compulsively checking for a carepages update on Dante, and not getting any, and my hopes dimming by the hour, I started to think about how awful it must be to be a pediatric oncologist, and to have to tell parents that their child is going to die.
So I've sent out Christmas cards to all of Brody's doctors and other care providers: the nurses at Shriners, our care coordinator at Shriners, the neurologist, gastroenterologist, urologist, plastic surgeon, orthopedic surgeon, and Brody's regular plain old pediatrician.
I don't know who their other patients are, and certainly I assume their work is not as regularly heartbreaking as a pediatric oncologist's work must be.
But still, I figure they might need to hear and see how great Brody is doing almost as much as I need to tell them.
And it gave me something to do.