So I think I've been officially fired as a blogger. Sorry, Krista.
Mat's next round of tests is in February, which seemed comfortably distant in October and November. With only about four weeks to go, the February 9 test date is starting to feel oppressive. We'll get the results on February 15 -- and I promise to post them!
In the meantime, our New Year's letter (written by Mat) is a good summary of how we feel about the last year. I would have been more sappy ... but that's why I asked him to write it. Here it is:
Christmas/New Year letters are, as a general rule, light-hearted, optimistic, and grateful, often in a fluffy, lemon-scented sort of way. Although we would be amiss not to admit to brief periods of light-heartedness (singular vacation in Boca Raton with the Eastley-Ingersolls) and optimism (Dr. Tanabe’s competence with a scalpel inspires mountains of the stuff), the reader will likely have to settle for gratefulness. And be willing to settle for slightly less fluffy lemon-scented-ness than one may be accustomed to.
The year did start well, with dugout seats to the Red Sox season opener for Ian and Mat. Things went downhill rapidly, with multiple chemotherapy regimens that did little but prove definitively that Kimberly is, in fact, a saint and Mat does, after all, benefit at least slightly from a sparse amount of hair. Liver surgery/recovery could not be described as enjoyable for anyone involved, although it did serve as a vehicle for spending a considerable amount of time with our families. Kimberly’s mom was amazing (she really cleaned the garage?), especially in her diligent soup-preparation. She was given a good run for her money by Mat’s dad, who (with help from J.R. and Zach) re-roofed, insulated, sided, and painted our entire house (looks like new). Little Colin still frequently runs downstairs after his nap waving a screwdriver and looking for Grandpa Burnett.
All in all, we really can’t complain. We spent a lot of time together and with family members that we see much too infrequently. Ian loves kindergarten and has made lots of new friends. Aside from being quite the reader, he is hands-down the best skateboarder and the best bike-rider in his class. Colin talks and hops and plays his guitar (ukulele) with dad. We love our neighborhood and are in awe of Lamar, J.R., and Zach for their work on our house. Even Kimberly’s dream of a garage door opener that works is finally a reality.
Are there things we would change about 2006 if we could? Yes. Especially the kale, the product of Kimberly’s possibly misguided experiment with a community farm. We would definitely consume much less (if any) kale. Would we do it all over again next year if it meant being together? Definitely.
And we do try to be optimistic. We are quite sure that 2007 will represent a marked shift in the direction of lemon-scented-ness. We just hope that there will be fewer hospitals involved . . .
We hope that 2007 is a wonderful year for you and your family.
Mat, Kimberly, Ian and Colin