No real news on my dad... he's still inpatient (as anybody who has experienced the glory of hospitalization knows, Friday nights are perhaps the worst times to be admitted--nobody knows anything until late Monday once the facility is up and running again during the week) and we still don't have a diagnosis. They have run every conceivable blood panel, every tumor marker, even ultrasounds and a CT and chest x-ray, and I almost forgot to mention the EKG. He is off antibiotics now, but is being treated for his presenting symptoms just not the underlying cause since we still don't know what that is. Ugh, the frustration all comes back and slaps me in the face. In some ways it feels like reliving part of the nightmare, just in a different way. It all just reminds me of all the crap with Elizabeth and how hard some of those days were--yet I'd do anything just to have even one of the worst days back again. I just miss her so much. She would have turned seven on Thursday. We should be planning her Disney Cruise or a Disneyworld trip, not trying to finalize her memorial headstone marker. I think I'm finally starting to feel some anger about how much she went through and how crappy and unfair it all is. It just sucks because there is no one to be angry at, nothing to really focus the anger at or blame the circumstances on. So many feelings and no real purpose or direction for them. I'm okay, I'm not about to blow--I don't want anyone reading this to worry about me, I'm coping with it and dealing with it appropriately. I just can understand now how readily people who have experienced tragedy (in any sort) get so angry and want to start lawsuits or try to hold other people or entities responsible--it gives their anger direction. Sometimes things happen that we (nor anyone else) have any control over and it's not fair and it makes us angry and there is still noone responsible for it and nobody to hold accountable. And we are left feeling hurt, angry, and utterly helpless because we can't change it. Pretty similar to how we feel once our children are diagnosed with cancer--the tragedy which is the precursor to bigger tragedy.

Please say an extra prayer for two of Elizabeth's cancer fighting friends. One is in remission and off treatment, but she has been in my heart for the past couple of days and I really really feel like she could use some extra prayers. The other is still in treatment but doing well, but he is far from done and he has been on my heart, too.

Thanks for checking in. Oh, and if anyone has any corporate or personal connections with people high up in the Build A Bear Workshop company, please contact me. I have a potential project I think Elizabeth's Memorial Fund could develop in conjunction with them.

Take care.