Today’s Thursday, and that means it’s time for yet another installment of JCO or JC NO, where I spin the yarn and you decide whether the story I relay is fact (JCO) or fiction (JC NO). To see if you were right, come back next week when I will give you the skinny before delivering the next JCO or JC NO. SO, last week’s deplorable tale of me poaching food off the tables I bussed as a Fuddruckers’ employee? The overwhelming majority of you suspected that to be true.
I barged into the room with a purpose, but couldn’t remember for the life of me what that purpose was until I saw the familiar red banner of the USA Today sports section. Birthday or not, the world of college football stops for no one. I hadn’t planned on watching any of the action that day, but I was such a bag of nerves that I desperately needed a distraction. After reviewing the docket of games, I decided to place a small wager on one of them—a symbolic fifty dollar bet that I was sure to win. For that day was a lucky one—it was three of my four children’s birthday. Auburn catching seventeen points against Florida at The Swamp was my selection. [Read more...]
Lovie took Pook to soccer practice the other night which left yours truly in charge of the wee threesome. Only they’re not so wee anymore. Our little guys are almost three! [Read more...]
So it’s Thursday, and that means it’s time for the second installment of JCO or JC NO, where I, John Cave Osborne, tell you, (state your name) a story which is either fact or fiction. Should you feel so inclined, leave a comment telling me if you think what I’ve written is legit (JCO) or bogus (JC NO). Then come back next Thursday to see if you were right. [Read more...]
By now, I’m sure y’all have heard about Lindsay Lohan’s recent setback. Scant weeks removed from a two-week stint in the poky, the troubled starlet suddenly finds herself dangerously close to being locked up yet again after violating her probation by testing positive for cocaine and amphetamines. [Read more...]
I’m trying something new on my blog — a segment called JCO or JC NO. I’ve got four of them planned. The premise is simple. Each Thursday, I’ll tell a JCO story. Then y’all decide if it’s fact (JCO) or fiction (JC NO). To see if you were right, come visit me the following Thursday. Before offering up that week’s JCO or JC NO, I’ll confirm or deny the veracity (solid word, no?) of the prior week’s story. [Read more...]
Out of nowhere y’all. Straight off the pages of a journal I kept during darker times. Way before Lovie and the trips. I remember the guy who wrote it. I loved him even if I did feel sorry for him. Because he was lost. But at least he knew it. I think that’s why I loved him so. [Read more...]
This past weekend, Lovie and I went down to Atlanta to be part of the M3Summit — the first ever conference dedicated solely to blogging men. Throughout the weekend, I gained incredible insight from many experts in the ways of social media and or fatherhood. But the most important meeting I would attend happened far, far away from the downtown Sheraton. In fact, it went down in a different city altogether. The most important meeting I would attend this past weekend was held in Stone Mountain, GA.
There were no powerpoint presentations, but there was a powerful presence. No conference room with with rows and rows of tables in front of countless chairs, but instead a small kitchen equipped with a wooden table which sat just four. No keynote speaker carrying on in a booming voice. Just a brave woman speaking in a soft but clear one that didn’t need the help of a microphone to reach my ears.
Much less my heart.
As many of you might recall, my sister Holliday has been battling cancer. And her fight took a dire turn for the worse just before the fourth of July weekend when, after her second round of a hellishly aggressive chemo, she fell into an unresponsive state for nine days. Toward the end of those nine days, virtually all hope was lost.
I penned five excrutiatingly painful posts which were laced with unspeakable sorrow to convey the experience from my perspective during that time. I just read them moments before I began writing this post, and oddly, though sad, I also found them beautiful.
Just like I find her.
Much has happened since she came back to us, yet I stopped chronicling Holliday’s story with Tidy Little Boxes. Today, I come to you with an update.
Since last I wrote, Holliday has checked out of MD Anderson much to the dismay of her oncologist. I can’t speak for how everyone else sees the situation, but as for me? I believe that this (pathologically egotistical) doctor mistook his limits for my sister’s. And while she did, indeed, have some limits with regard to fighting her disease, he had none.
After all, this particular cancer is of such an aggressive variety that he was in a no-lose situation. Kill the cancer, and he’d land on the cover of a medical journal, thank you very much. Lose the patient? Hardly his fault. The odds were stacked against him all along.
So onward he pushed, in spite of the fact that Holliday had voiced concern about the toll the medicine was taking on her. The end result was that horrifying nine-day stretch which saw my brave sister seemingly hovering between worlds before her remarkable resolve led her back to this one, albeit with a body that had been compromised along the way.
You see, what Holliday’s doctor had forgotten was that the cancer he and his ego were hell bent on slaying was growing inside of a real, live human being.
The very one who opened the door for Lovie and me this past Saturday. The very one who led us (slowly and with the help of her walker) down the hallway and into her kitchen. The very one who held court at the head of our four-top table for as long as her energy would permit — the twenty best and most meaningful minutes of my weekend.
The very one who, as of yesterday, has officially resumed her fight. This time at Emory Hospital. This time with a less aggressive form of chemo. This time with two things in mind — fighting for her life, yet optimizing it as well.
I’m happy to say that Holliday made it through the first infusion yesterday much better than she had the ones prior. She’s back in the ring and has successfully finished round number one.
Still, my sister is far from well. She’s far from strong. But my sister is also far from giving up.
And if you knew her, that would come as no surprise. Because she’s great. And the great ones never give up. Ever.