General Information on where on earth are James and Kristin Cheng

Usually I live in Oklahoma with my husband of ten years, James, and our three kids.  For the next two months I am living in Taipei Taiwan.  We arrived here on September 10th and will return home on November 10th.  Two months.  We came to spend time with James' mom, Angie.  She was diagnosed with a pretty aggressive type of leukemia in mid-July.  The only hope of 'cure' is a bone marrow transplant after several rounds of chemo.  The chances of surviving 5 years is 15-30%.  We are praying for a complete recovery, but very aware that unless God miraculously intervenes, the time is very short.  The last two months of our lives have centered around 'the diagnosis'.  The big D, and I don't mean Dallas.

It is amazing to look back and see what all has happened over the last two months.  I didn't even get around to writing a Christmas letter last year because I wasn't sure there was anything 'of interest' to report, and now I am finally hoping to use this blog I set up long ago.  There are so many things I feel I want and need to put in writing and reflect on.  Right now, having 'nothing of interest to report' seems like a nice trade.  For the next two weeks, James' brother, Tim, his sister, Lois and her husband, Frank and baby Grace (4 months) will all be staying in Roland and Angie's apartment in Taipei.  I won't lie to you, it is like summer camp.  I never did well at summer camp.  At least there are not community showers.  We are all in here on top of each other and the first day everyone was here - a Typhoon blew in.  I have never experienced and Typhoon or Hurricane as we call them in the states, let's just say I am pretty sure I would trade a slam-bam evening of tornado activity and hiding for a few moments in a closet any day for the 24 plus hours of gale-force wind and sometimes horizontally blowing rain wildly howling about our 11th floor apartment.  I swear, I think the building was swaying.  It was maddening to say the least.  And in case you are interested, on Taiwanese television there was still the weather person in a bright yellow rain slicker standing in the onslaught hanging on to the microphone and a telephone pole for dear life trying not to be blown away as they reported about just how bad the storm was and how stupid it would be to be out in it.  Made me feel oddly at home.


Our daily routine consists of meals together and a daily entourage of folks to visit Angie in the hospital.  Today, James and I are caring for the kids (as it should be, 3/4 of them belong to us) and the rest are visiting Angie.  When I saw her last, her hair was beginning to sprinkle down all over her shoulders.  I wonder how much will be gone next time I see her.  Perhaps the boys should shave their heads in support.  I wish I were selfless enough to do the same.  I have never been so close to anyone with cancer before.  You hear of it all the time, and your heart is wrenched for friends around you and their loved ones.  But this is just so close, so personal.  And I don't think I could ever understand until it happened to my 'mama' Angie.  She is very dear to me.  My sorrow is often overwhelming and affects me in weird ways.

So - from Camp Cheng - signing off until another day.  And boy, do I have a story to tell you of my day yesterday.  A kitchen cooking disaster.  But it needs to rest a few more days until it is ripe enough to be funny.  Just right now it is too fresh, I might cry all over again.  Yes, the She-Fu (daughter-in-law) is not so at home in an Asian kitchen with an aisle the size of a coffin.  I'll just throw that out there to make you wonder...