Author: snort262

#TeamRavi is back! We just spent 8 days inpatient and are very happy to be home. Two Fridays ago we checked into Journey Clinic for a routine check up. Vitals were good but Ravi’s white blood cell count was very high, indicating an infection. Also, the wound on his shoulder was not healing. On the counsel of our wise nurse, we checked into the hospital. Unlike other hospitalizations , this one was not fraught with panic or sheer terror . This was just a maintenance visit to get an infection under control. No chemo was given so Ravi felt pretty good. He was on 8 days of IV antibiotics and had wound care following him, but he did not feel sick at all. While we were in the hospital, Loaner Sam, his loaner AAC came from the company. Ravi had spent all of Christmas season mute, as Sam had sadly developed a problem with his charger. As soon as we got Loaner Sam I rushed the device to the hospital. Ravi was over the moon happy. He began talking and babbling immediately. After that, the visit was easy. He had Sam, he had his iPad, he had lots of nice nurses checking on him, and he felt good enough to do lots laps around floor 5. Friends and therapy dogs came to visit. For someone who was stuck in the hospital, he was being a very good sport about it. Robert and I flipflopped as to who would stay with him overnight and who would go home to take care of the animals. During the day all three of us were together at the hospital. Yesterday, I learned how to administer wound care and we were set free in the world, told we did not have to come back for at least two days. We were delighted. Ravi had other things in mind.

We arrived home on the coldest day of the year. I do not think it got above zero, yesterday. As I am writing this, it is minus 8F outside, but feels like minus 30. The high today is supposed to be an even zero. Even though I consider myself a hardy midwesterner, I think I will not run outside until the mercury rises above 10 F and the sun comes out. Once home, Ravi happy curled up on his bed and took a long nap with Robert. I did some laundry and caught up on some correspondence. We ordered in dinner but Ravi was still sleeping. Around 8pm I went in to check on him and hook up his G tube for another feed. Imagine my surprise when I saw that the G tube was no longer attached to his body! Ravi was not at all disturbed, but I was! I did a quick all to the resident oncologist on call. She laughed and asked if we hadn’t just left the hospital that afternoon? I sheepishly admitted that we had but were now in need of more assistance. She said that we would need to go the ER and she would call ahead.

Twenty-five minutes later found us at the ER. To our surprise and delight, there was parking right outside the door and virtually no wait. We were seen by a nurse immediately and by an ER doctor only a few minutes after that. The G tube hole had not had time to close, so it was just a matter of finding another G tube that would fit. This took a little while. Many G tube users are little kids and it took some looking around to find a larger one. A larger G tube was eventually tracked down in the OR, was inserted with no fuss whatsoever, and we were sent on our way. We made it home before midnight, tired and relieved. It took another 2 hours to get enough feeds and all of his meds into Ravi. Before the last feed ended, he had fallen into a deep sleep. It was a busy day!

I am not certain what the next week will bring. Hopefully, we can just stay home today, stay warm and cuddle our pets. Monday, we check into the Journey Clinic. I do not know if he will receive chemo or not. Tuesday, he has his beloved PT and then an appointment with neurology at a different hospital. Thursday, we are back Journey Clinic for labs and a check in.

So…. we are okay. Thank you for everyone who checked in on us, brought us food or let our dogs out for a respite in the back yard.  We were not planning on spending the last 8 days inpatient, but there you go. Ravi was well taken care of and this stay did not produce any trauma. He was well taken care of, as always, and did not feel acutely ill. So, stay warm. Cuddle your pets. Be good humans, and we will be in touch. Peace.

Today marks one year since Ravi began chemo. On December 26, 2022, he had a hearing test and an operation to put in his port. (It would turn out to be the first of three ports) On December 27 we checked into the hospital for him to get his first round of Cisplatin. We were discharged on December 29 and had no idea what the coming year would hold. I don’t remember much about those early cancer days. My impression was that it always seemed to be the middle of the night and we were very scared. Today, we were back at Journey Clinic, on the 9th floor, and the mood is totally different. It is broad daylight. We know and love all the nurses. Everything is familiar. We know where the comfy chairs are and how to get snacks. Nothing is scary. We were here yesterday for a round of chemo. Ravi’s red blood cell counts were low and so was his GFR, signaling that his kidneys were not happy. There was not enough time to give him chemo, type and cross his blood type, get the transfusion ready, and give him fluids. Briefly, it looked like we would have to go inpatient to get everything done. I really did not want to do this. Ravi was deeply traumatized by his month-long hospital stay last fall. Every time we go to Masonic Children’s I promise him we will come home that same day. I did not want to break that promise. Divine intervention happened when a different parent called in to cancel her child’s appointment for the 27th. Our nurse quickly grabbed that spot for Ravi. Whew! So, we spent about 6 hours at the clinic yesterday getting labs and then chemo. We came back today for more labs, a transfusion, and a liter of saline. Ravi was in great spirits for someone who had just had a round of chemo 24 hours before. He was happy to see all the nurses and was content to cuddle with me on the bed and watch his favorite PBS shows on his iPad. After about 4 hours he was pronounced stable, and we were sent home. For once, we got home before dark! 

Tomorrow we only have to be at the hospital for an hour, and that is for his beloved PT. He will get to build with big foam blocks, throw around a basketball, and ride the exercise bike. This is his idea of a very good time. Friday, we go back to Journey Clinic for labs and possibly more fluids. Then, fingers crossed, we are free until the following Wednesday. Freedom! What on earth will we do with ourselves? Ravi is plotting to overthrow the patriarchy.

So, here we are, a year later. Robert and I are a bit more wrinkled, grey, and sleep deprived. Ravi is taller and thinner with a collection of random scars and a smile that will melt your heart. His hair has fallen out again, but he is not one to worry about his looks. He just puts on a hat and goes about his business. #TeamRavi wishes you all the best in the coming year. Peace, be good humans, and we will be in touch.

Ravi is full of surprises. Yesterday, we went out to lunch with a dear friend. Midway through the meal, Ravi reached up to scratch his upper lip and half of his moustache fell off! For some reason, this struck us as very silly, and we had a good laugh. As we were finishing our meal Ravi had a tonic clonic seizure. He did this very quietly, tipping backwards in his seat. The three of us acted like a well-oiled machine. I slipped my hands under his head to prevent any trauma. Alissa grabbed his rescue meds from his bag. In one fluid motion, Robert tucked and rolled under the table to catch Ravi if he fell off the bench. Except for the one person who gave Robert a quizzical look, no one in the entire restaurant seemed aware of what had just happened. We gathered up our belongings, cleared the table, and with Ravi leaning heavily on us, got in the car. We dropped Alissa off and headed home. Once home, Ravi collapsed in bed and began snoring. We gave him formula, fluids and meds through his G tube and left him to sleep off the post-ictal period. I went to bed with the premonition that the next day could be rough.

Today, we had to be at the clinic early for fluids and labs. I was worried that the nurses would take one look at my emaciated, dehydrated son and admit him to the hospital. Amazingly, as we got to the clinic he perked up, not looking nearly as gaunt or haggard. To my surprise, his weight was up several kgs. I told the nurse about his cold, his seizure, his dehydration. She took blood for labs and said when the labs came back, they would decide about fluids. At this point, Ravi was happily perched on the bed watching videos and in no apparent distress. The nurse listened to his lungs but said that they sounded clear. A few minutes later the lab work came back. Both the nurse and I were amazed. His counts were either normal, or slightly below normal and trending in the right direction. 

The next two hours passed quickly. Ravi got a bolus of saline and a different medicine to help prevent pneumonia. He was happy and interactive the entire time. The only way one could tell he had just had chemo was that he was shedding hair profusely. This did not alarm him a bit. The nurse commented that the shedding might make his scalp itchy, so I made a mental note to shave his head when we got home. She and I had a great conversation about her work on the oncology floor and her patients. I am even more firmly convinced that oncology nurses are angels in disguise. They make everything about life with cancer better. I commented to her that a year ago, being at the clinic was so scary, and now it just felt so ordinary. I told her Ravi never minded coming to the hospital. She said that is the goal of the clinic. Though no one wants to have cancer, the nurses try to make life as ordinary as possible for their pediatric patients. During this conversation, Ravi alternated between watching a video and beaming at her. She beamed back at him and eventually, we made our way to the door.

Once home, I had only one wish, to get off my feet and have something to eat. Ravi had other plans. He refused to get out of the car. He liked being out of the house. I closed the garage door and went inside to find Robert. Robert had been at home all day and was looking for an excuse to go out, so he decided to take Ravi for a ride in the car. I headed for the couch and happily collapsed in a pile of snoozing animals. All concerned were happy. 

As I reflected on the day, I could not get over Ravi’s good mood. He woke up feeling post ictal and terrible, but he was still smiling. He was happy to see the nurses. Though he had his port accessed and was poked and prodded he took it all in good form. Miraculously, his labs and weight were stable. We did not have to be admitted to the hospital. This was the best Christmas present we could ask for. It is the simple things that bring joy. We get to be at home in our own beds tonight. Ravi is happy and smiling. We are not living in the sheer terror that we were a year ago. These are simple things for which my family is very greatly. May your holidays be full of simple things that bring you great joy. Peace.

Hello to Friends of Boo! We are now over a year into this strange journey called Osteosarcoma. Ravi is a year old, a bit more battle scarred, but still has the same beautiful smile and sunny outlook. Yesterday he began his second cycle of gemcitabine without much issue. The three of us have been passing around some sort of virus, and we debated giving him the chemo, but decided to forge ahead. We preceded the chemo with a liter of saline to keep his kidneys happy. Today, he seems a bit slow, but still greatly enjoyed going to PT. He got to work with a basketball, walk on uneven surfaces, and was encouraged to whack at things with his left hand. We followed this up by a treat at the upstairs coffee shop. He got gummi worms, I got a latte. Later, we swung by Taco Bell, so he thinks today is an okay kind of day. We are concerned about his weight, as it has dropped dramatically. Right now, we are meeting all of his dietary needs with formula through his G tube and offering him anything and everything else he wants to eat. We did have to have words with the dietician. Her answer to the weight loss was for us to have him hooked up to a feeding pump at least 12 hours a day. This was met with a hard no. He has to have a life, as well! We can’t run the feeds overnight, as he is savy enough to unhook himself and let the formula go wherever it likes. This particular dietician knows how to crank numbers but fails to realize that there is a person at the other end of the equation, and people and equations rarely fall neatly into synch. So, we do the best that we can.

We are not really celebrating Christmas this year. Ravi has a round of chemo on December 26, and we are at the clinic at least 3 days a week. We will celebrate when chemo is over, and he gets to see the Pacific Ocean. For now, we are just enjoying each other’s company and doing the best that we can. This winter will be busy. In addition to chemo and PT and all the accompanying labs and scans, Ravi will be doing outpatient OT starting January 8. In February, he will be getting speech language therapy. I am thrilled about both of these opportunities. He has not had OT or SLP since last year when he got sick and had to leave school. This will be so good for him, and I think he will really like it. The more we can keep him learning and engaged, the happier he is. We are still stunned by his willingness to go to the hospital so often, even after having been stuck there, inpatient for a month this fall. If nothing else, Ravi is a trooper.

We wish you all the best this holiday season. For some, this is a season of joy. For some, this is a season of pain. For me, it is more of a continued Advent, a season of waiting. But Advent is also hopeful season, as well as an introspective one. As I go through my day, I try to remind myself that I do not know what those around me are going through, and I try to be kind, even though the inner me tends towards being impatient. Everyone is carrying a burden of some kind. When in doubt, be a good human. Peace.

I had no idea that extra boluses of fluid would be such a game changer for Mr. Boo. His kidneys were still not happy last week, so we came into the clinic every day except Thanksgiving for him to get extra fluids. Over the course of the week, Robert and I watched him transform from a gaunt ghost who just wanted to lie on his bed so a kid who was getting up to rummage in the fridge, was happy to leave the house, and was much more responsive and expressive. It was a night and day difference that took place over the course of a few days. On Monday, he was deemed well enough for chemo. Tuesday, he was a little tired but still okay, and Wednesday he was showing a definite interest in food. When we went in for labs today I requested more fluids and asked if we could come back tomorrow as well. I don’t think that the nurses are used to a mom who begs for extra trips to the clinic, but they were gracious enough to consider my request. By the time Ravi’s labs were done, they are slowly looking better, the team had agreed that he could come in for more fluids tomorrow. I was delighted. So, tomorrow he gets fluids and then starts PT for his left arm. I am hoping he likes this. Saturday is Special Olympics day at Gopher Women’s basketball, so we are going to a game. Ravi loves to watch women’s basketball games. Next Monday is another round of chemo and I am pushing for more fluids following that. We were offered some time off around Christmas and I turned that down. I want to keep the fluids coming!

So, today is a good day. Ravi was able to walk to the clinic, rather than being pushed in a wheelchair. He is eating huge amounts of sour patch kids and anything else spicy or tart. He decided on Thanksgiving Day that ham is a very good food. We still have a long way to go on this journey, but things are looking up a bit. We get to sleep in our own beds at night. Ravi is feeling better. I have a little more help. Thank you all so much for your prayers and good energies. They mean so much. Be good humans and keep in touch. Peace, Harriet.

On the way to the clinic yesterday Ravi and I got a call we were not expecting. It was from Kelli, who runs Nick’s Wish. She was happy to tell us that Ravi had been chosen to have his wish granted. We were both floored and excited. Ravi has never seen the ocean. We want to take him to California and see the Pacific. Kelli said this was entirely possible. The wish granter will fly us to California, rent us a car, put us up in a hotel, and give us a stipend for 3 different activities of Ravi’s choice, then fly us home. Right now we know that we want to go to the beach, visit the San Diego zoo, and see the USS Midway. We will do some searching around to see what else one can do in San Diego. We are hoping to do this trip in March, as a celebration for Ravi finishing chemo.

The call was a much-needed lift in a rather difficult week. Ravi’s kidneys are struggling, and we are not sure just why. His creatinine level is much higher than it should be. We are going in for fluids every day this week except for Thanksgiving. Our day starts bright and early tomorrow. We have a kidney scan at 7:3o, then are meeting with a kidney specialist at 8am. We have labs and fluids at 11 am. Today things looked a bit better. His weight was up by one pound. Except for the creatinine, his labs and electrolytes looked good. Hopefully, the kidney doctor we see tomorrow can help us shed some light on this issue. He needs to have another CT scan to make certain that the micro fungal medication he is on has done its job. Usually, a CT scan involves the use of dye, which is hard for kidneys to excrete. So, we are holding off on the scan for a bit. We were supposed to have started chemo last week, and then this week, but could not risk it because of the kidney problems. Hopefully, with all the fluids we are pumping into him, we can resume chemo next week.

Right now, Ravi seems pretty perky. He is eating a bit but taking in most of his nutrition through the g tube. He is drinking a lot. He seems to be in a good mood and not in any obvious distress. We are looking forward to Thursday when we don’t have to go to the clinic and can just enjoy ourselves at home. For the last decade or more, Robert and I have thrown a LGBTQ friendly friendsgiving. This year, we just do not have the time or energy. So, we will just do a small celebration together after I run a 5km Turkey Trot. We hope that next year at this time we can host all of our friends again.

Have a wonderful Thanksgiving. Enjoy your food and your families and friends. Be good humans and we will be in touch. Peace.

Hello, FOB! Nice to see you. In the last few weeks Boo/Ravi has grown in a full head of hair and very expressive eyebrows. I have to admit, I have a hard time keeping my hands off of his head, he is so furry! In other news, we wish his kidneys were doing as well as his hair. They are still acting up, as is some sort of fungal infection in his lungs, kidneys, and spleen. This was discovered during his last PET scan. The good news is that his mets are mostly stable, the bad news is that our boy is a walking infection. No wonder he feels so crummy. His weight has tanked, he is refusing to eat or drink anything, and thank the goddess for IV saline infusions and his g tube. He was supposed to start his next cycle of chemo on Monday but did not due to poor kidney function and being drastically underweight. Instead, he got a liter of saline and was sent home. We went back into Journey Clinic yesterday and his kidney function was still poor, so more fluids were needed. We are coming back in again today and Saturday for more of the same. He is being a very good sport about all of this, but it is taking a heavy toll.

In the race to obliterate cancer cells, doctors often forget that they are dealing with a sentient being, a being that can get scared and anxious. Ravi has been so incredibly brave the last 11 months, but he has had about enough. I struggle with depression and anxiety and know the signs. I began pushing his team to bring on board some Zoloft and some Buspar. We began that yesterday. The Zoloft will take about 6 weeks to really kick in, but for me, Buspar was a game changer. It is not a benzo, it does not dope me out, it kicks in immediately, and allows me to function. I am hoping it has the same superpowers for Boo.

Everyone needs a life outside of cancer. Boo graduated from school last June but has yet to come to the top of the waiting list for Midwest Social Services, the day program we want him to attend. For a while, he was so sick, no of us were even thinking about a life outside the hospital. But Boo wants that life. He misses his friends. His awesome former teacher, Rosalind, suggested St Paul adaptive recreation and also Highland Friendship Group. Both look like great ways for Boo to be out in the community, engaging in the things that he loves, like bowling and music. Today, after his saline infusion we are going to Como Zoo. I don’t know if he has the strength to walk around the zoo, but we can rent a wheelchair. Saturday, we are going bowling. He has been telling me that he wants to bowl, so we will make it happen. Hopefully, we will be able to get him out of the car. He wants badly to go do fun things, but when we arrive the anxiety takes over and he is afraid to leave the car. We tried to take him to Culvers the other night, but he refused to leave the car. We drove around for a while, which he liked, and ended up at MOA, where he used to love to go walking. He still refused to get out of the car. So, we drove around some more and he seemed happy. Interestingly, the one place he does not refuse to leave the car is at the hospital. I am grateful for that. I took him to clinic by myself yesterday and had he refused to leave the car, I would have been stuck. As it was, there was not a problem. Boo saved the day!

So, where are we now? Today and tomorrow, we go into clinic for labs and fluids. If his kidneys are stable, he can have an infusion of chemo on Monday. This will be given outpatient. On Friday, he has PT to learn to reuse his left arm. On the following Monday, he will have chemo again. Then, hopefully, we can enjoy thanksgiving together. By then, he should be done taking the micro fungal medicine which is making him feel so icky.

We wish you all a happy Thanksgiving, or whatever it is you chose to celebrate. We are hoping for a quiet day at home. Thank you for the thoughts, prayers, good energies, socks, hats, and stuffed animals. They are deeply appreciated. Be good humans and we will be in touch.

Well, maybe. Definitely some peach fuzz. Ravi has eyebrows and eyelashes now, the beginnings of a moustache, some peach fuzz on his head, and a lot more energy. He is greatly enjoying being home and only going to the clinic once a week. We are in a holding pattern right now. He does not have a PET scan for another 10 days. We meet with his oncologist tomorrow to discuss next steps. The plan, as I understand it, is to switch to a different type of chemo that is less hard on his kidneys. He had his GFR last week which measure kidney function. The last cycle of chemo definitely hurt the kidneys. We are hopeful that they will recover, but that is the last time we will be treating the osteosarcoma with Ifosfamide.

The next step in the journey, after the PET scan, is two different types of chemo. One is given on day one. Both are given on day eight. The third week is a week off. Each cycle is 21 days. The team is hoping to do 6 cycles, or until the cancer is gone. The great news is that this type of chemo can be done outpatient! This makes me happy, and I know it will help Ravi. He has become very scared and anxious about leaving the house, even if it is to go to fun places. He is afraid he will end up in the hospital again for another month. I can’t blame him. I am afraid of that, too. Dr. Greengard is also having conversations with the thoracic surgeon at Mayo about a good time to get rid of the the mets in his lungs. Honestly, this terrifies me, but it needs to be done. I take comfort in knowing that she is one of the very few surgeons in the world who can do this type of surgery. I believe she will be an important part of Ravi’s cure.

So, where are we now? At home, and slowly recovering. Ravi is slowly gaining weight, strength, and hair. He is smiling and laughing more. He went to a party last weekend and had a good time. He is looking forward to a friend coming over today with his guitar. We are enjoying brisk fall days and cuddling with our animals. We thank you all for your love and support. I will touch base after our team meeting on Monday. Keep us in your prayers and good energies. Be good humans. Peace.

Well, maybe a new normal. Ravi has been home from the hospital for 5 days. He has spent a lot of that time sleeping. In a way, it is very much like bringing home a newborn. He sleeps a lot more than the average newborn, or at least sleeps in longer spurts, but we spend a lot of time keeping track of how much he eats, drinks, sleeps, poops, etc., well, you get the idea. He is on a stunning number of medicines. He was dramatically underweight when we discharged, and his stomach was not so sure it wanted to handle food. He had been on TPN for days, and then really slow feeds of his G tube, trying to convince his guts to work again, without putting him through excruciating pain. The first few days at home he took in nothing except G tube feeds, Gatorade, and the occasional cracker. Yesterday gave us some hope. He ate a taco for lunch and then used his AAC to request a burger and fries from Culvers. Over the course of the evening, he ate the whole thing, plus a few tentative tastes of Robert’s milkshake.

Today we checked back into the Journey Clinic. His labs look fairly decent, even though his hematocrit is low. He has been very nervous about going anywhere in the car. I think he is afraid he will end up back in the hospital. I promised him that we were just checking in at the clinic, drawing some labs, and then would go to Taco Bell. At the drive through, I ordered all of his favorite things. I got him a Strawberry Freeze, Nacho fries, and three soft beef tacos. In the car he dove into the fries and Freezie with gusto. Over the course of this evening, he has been slowly whittling away at the rest of his plunder. Just being out and about is very tiring for him. He is now happily lounging on his bed, chatting with Sam, his AAC. He was able to walk to the car and back, but we used a wheelchair the rest of the time at the hospital. We were happy to see he had gained 2 pounds, but he is still very fragile. On Wednesday he will be sedated to remove his port and his central line. A new port will be put in to replace the one which got infected. This will be his third port, and we hope that this one lasts a bit longer than the previous two.

Monday we are meeting with Dr. G, his oncologist to discuss next steps in his treatment. I am interested in what she has to say, but do not want to make any decisions until he has had another PET scan and we have had a chance to discuss the results. I want to see if these last two cycles of chemo have done any damage to the mets. I am leery about doing another cycle of Ifosfamide, as it can cause seizures in neurotypical kids, and has already caused Ravi to have had two clonic tonic seizures. The chemo itself is probably not responsible for his month in the hospital, but it did deplete his white cells enough so that he was open to all sort of opportunistic infections. He had an infection in his port, he had pneumonia, he tested positive for C diff, he was on at least 5 different antibiotics and his guts pretty much shut down. In good conscience, I can’t ask him to go through this again. He would not understand. It was a miserable month.

Right now, I am choosing to live in limbo. I honestly don’t want to think about next steps. I want to give Ravi time at home to gain back his strength and weight and his sense of humor. I want to do fun things with him and take him places in the car that are somewhere other than the hospital. I want him to have enough strength to walk around the block with me and look at the changing leaves. I want to take him to Target and Como Zoo. I want Robert to sing to him and make him laugh. I don’t want to think about more cycles of chemo or the surgery needed to remove the mets from his lungs. I just want some time for us all to rest.

Thank you to all who call, or pray, or send good energy. #TeamRavi is really tired right now and we need a lift. We are still fighting. We are not giving up. We just need a little time as a family to regroup. Be kind to others, you never know what your smile can do. Be a peacemaker. Be a light bearer. Be a good human, and we will be in touch.

Thirty days, that is how long Ravi was in the hospital. We checked in on September 11, when it was still 85 degrees outside, and the leaves were green and full on the trees. We checked out last night at 7pm, into a brisk fall evening. I had to run home and find him some warm clothes, as all the clothes we had checked into the hospital with were shorts and light weight T shirts.

Thirty days, but it felt like an eternity. Ravi was so, so ill. There were times we wondered if we would even be able to bring him home. There were days where he just lay in bed, wracked with fever, cramps, and nausea, his system trying both to shut down and to survive. In the end, with the help of God, some very talented doctors, and a lot of potent medicines, we brought him home last night. We were all so thankful to sleep in our own beds.

I woke up early this morning, grateful just to be in my own home, surrounded by those whom I love. A little while later I heard some rustling in Ravi’s room. I went in to have a peek. He greeted me with a beautiful, sunny smile. He knew where he was, and he was very happy to be there. He curled back under the covers and let out a happy sigh. I returned to my coffee. A few minutes later I heard his signature footsteps in the hallway. He came padding out to smile at me again. He looked gaunt in the dim light. I offered him a drink which he happily took, then retreated back to his lair. I wondered why he was up so early, then realized it was 5 am, when the nurses usually draw labs and vitals. What a way to wake up every day, with someone taking your blood! Ravi looked around for a bit, realized there were no nurses lurking in dark corners and happily padded back to bed. I can now hear him in his room, making happy snuffling noises.

Thank you to everyone for your love and support these last 30 days. It has been wild ride. We do not know what will come next, and right now I don’t even want to think about it. I just want to love on Ravi. Be good humans and we will be in touch. Peace, Harriet