I won't be blogging for a few weeks. It's been hard, in general, to blog lately. Having the kids at home for the summer has kept me busy and also made it difficult to focus much when using the computer.
In addition to all that, my mother was involved in accident with a horse she was transporting a few days ago. She was trampled and has a broken leg and possibly broken ribs. We are heading up to Illinois for a week and a half so I can help take care of her for a short while as she begins to recover.
It will be just me and the kids because DH has already used two weeks of vacation; one for my surgery and one when we were up at his parent's house, keeping watch of his father while his mother was out of the country. He also has some significant deadlines he must meet by the end of the month. Despite the fact that it means I have to do all the driving, it's OK. At least we won't have to worry about what to do with the dog.
I have a little side trip, to Mammoth Cave, built into our travel time on the way up. We'll be taking the Historic Tour of the cave. I'm as excited as the kids are about it. Intuitive Monkey wanted to know if he would get to wear a miner's cap, with a flashlight on the top of the hat.
Anyway....Pray for me, and my kids, and my mom. For my mom....that she would recover well. For me and the kids....that we'll travel safely....and that we all survive with our sanity intact after so much "quality" time together in a car. :-)
Thursday, June 19, 2008
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
The Next Step
Yesterday, I had my appointment with the oncologist. He seemed to be in a more receptive mood, or maybe that was me. I was a little pissed with him during our last meeting when he didn't back me up on my desire to avoid the axillary dissection part of my surgery.
Anyhoo....he talked with me at length and we settled on a date to start my chemotherapy--June 30th. I'll be having treatments once every three weeks for four sessions.
The oncology nurse led me to the treatment room as she explained the process. A large room, lined with cushy reclining chairs and IV poles, was filled with people receiving their chemo. Attached to the ceiling, in the center of the room, were multiple TVs facing each part of the room. It was very quiet despite the the presence of 15-20 people. I guess silence is the status quo response when your veins are being pumped with chemicals for a few hours.
Being in the oncologist's office feels surreal. I have to keep reminding myself that I had cancer and am supposed to be here, but it's hard to remember that when everyone else in the office looks to be in their sixties, and here I am, seemingly healthy and mobile in every other way.
Humor tends to get me through all of this, leaving the impression with my doctors that I am somehow unfazed by everything, which is sometimes true. On the other hand, laughing is easier than crying. While lamenting to the nurse that I had just gotten back from vacation and probably had gained a few pounds, she adjusted the metal blocks on the scale and pronounced,"No worries...you actually lost weight."
I replied with a laugh,"Yeah...having a mastectomy is a quick way to lose a few pounds!"
She looked shocked for a moment, and then realized I wasn't offended, but was simply making light of the situation, and allowed herself to laugh too.
Now, it's just a waiting game until the end of this month. I plan on having some more summer fun in the next two weeks and getting any large projects out of the way, before this next part of the journey. Who knows? Maybe I'll be in the small percentage of people who don't react dramatically to chemo. I always seem to fall in those small percentages, so maybe I'll land on the positive side of those statistics this time.
Anyhoo....he talked with me at length and we settled on a date to start my chemotherapy--June 30th. I'll be having treatments once every three weeks for four sessions.
The oncology nurse led me to the treatment room as she explained the process. A large room, lined with cushy reclining chairs and IV poles, was filled with people receiving their chemo. Attached to the ceiling, in the center of the room, were multiple TVs facing each part of the room. It was very quiet despite the the presence of 15-20 people. I guess silence is the status quo response when your veins are being pumped with chemicals for a few hours.
Being in the oncologist's office feels surreal. I have to keep reminding myself that I had cancer and am supposed to be here, but it's hard to remember that when everyone else in the office looks to be in their sixties, and here I am, seemingly healthy and mobile in every other way.
Humor tends to get me through all of this, leaving the impression with my doctors that I am somehow unfazed by everything, which is sometimes true. On the other hand, laughing is easier than crying. While lamenting to the nurse that I had just gotten back from vacation and probably had gained a few pounds, she adjusted the metal blocks on the scale and pronounced,"No worries...you actually lost weight."
I replied with a laugh,"Yeah...having a mastectomy is a quick way to lose a few pounds!"
She looked shocked for a moment, and then realized I wasn't offended, but was simply making light of the situation, and allowed herself to laugh too.
Now, it's just a waiting game until the end of this month. I plan on having some more summer fun in the next two weeks and getting any large projects out of the way, before this next part of the journey. Who knows? Maybe I'll be in the small percentage of people who don't react dramatically to chemo. I always seem to fall in those small percentages, so maybe I'll land on the positive side of those statistics this time.
Sunday, June 15, 2008
Father's Day
The Rationalist and Intuitive Monkey insisted we get up early and buy Dunkin' Donuts for DH. They know him well. Food truly is the path to his heart, and yet he remains thin....men and their metabolisms.
The day before, we wandered aimlessly through Target, trying to decide on an appropriate gift. Monkey wanted to get him a box of Just For Men, to hide his gray hair. Not wanting to give him a gift that screams,--"Hey...you're really old now!"--I nixed that idea. Monkey also wanted to buy him a fabric, camouflage belt with large, metallic studs. I told him I didn't think DH would be able to wear it at his workplace, disappointing him and his vision of dressing a hip, edgy father. Meanwhile, The Rationalist repetitively stated,"I don't know...I don't know...I have no idea," when asked for gift ideas.
We finally settled on a Starbucks gift card. Monkey was not amused at his ideas being shot down and was only consoled when he was given the privilege of picking the Father's Day card. He immediately pounced upon the musical card section, listening to each one 'til he found what he was looking for.
It played Stand By Me and cost $6.00.
$6.00....just for a card.
What could I say?
I had already rejected his other ideas.
$6.00 it would be.
At 7:00 am, the boys leaped upon their father, ready to stuff him with donuts and coffee, and present their $6.00 card filled with Starbucks goodness.
He was happy with everything, but he missed out on a great belt.
The day before, we wandered aimlessly through Target, trying to decide on an appropriate gift. Monkey wanted to get him a box of Just For Men, to hide his gray hair. Not wanting to give him a gift that screams,--"Hey...you're really old now!"--I nixed that idea. Monkey also wanted to buy him a fabric, camouflage belt with large, metallic studs. I told him I didn't think DH would be able to wear it at his workplace, disappointing him and his vision of dressing a hip, edgy father. Meanwhile, The Rationalist repetitively stated,"I don't know...I don't know...I have no idea," when asked for gift ideas.
We finally settled on a Starbucks gift card. Monkey was not amused at his ideas being shot down and was only consoled when he was given the privilege of picking the Father's Day card. He immediately pounced upon the musical card section, listening to each one 'til he found what he was looking for.
It played Stand By Me and cost $6.00.
$6.00....just for a card.
What could I say?
I had already rejected his other ideas.
$6.00 it would be.
At 7:00 am, the boys leaped upon their father, ready to stuff him with donuts and coffee, and present their $6.00 card filled with Starbucks goodness.
He was happy with everything, but he missed out on a great belt.
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
Vacation
That's where I'm at.
Lots of time poolside.
Lots of food I shouldn't eat.
Lots of lazy sleeping in.
Lots of time poolside.
Lots of food I shouldn't eat.
Lots of lazy sleeping in.
Saturday, June 07, 2008
Wednesday, June 04, 2008
Summer Is Officially Here
Let the games begin!
School has officially ended for the boys. They have partaken of the requisite 4 cupcakes, 5 cookies, bowls overflowing with popcorn, and red, fruity drinks at the end-of-school celebration in their classrooms. They have carted home at least 2,317 loose papers in various states of crumplification, 3 half-empty bottles of glue, 12 multi-colored folders stuffed with graded homework from September, approximately 48 nubby crayons, and at least 22 Time--for Kids magazines.
How all of this fit into their desks, I am not sure. My bet is on some sort of tear in the fabric of space/time which exists only in school desks, allowing 100 times more matter to inhabit its interior than seems logically possible.
The kids are already excited and have an erroneous assumption that they will playing with the Wii for at least ten hours each day. No school. No homework. What else could possibly stand in their way?
Ah...such foolish innocence...so quick to forget the mean mommy who will place limits on them.
School has officially ended for the boys. They have partaken of the requisite 4 cupcakes, 5 cookies, bowls overflowing with popcorn, and red, fruity drinks at the end-of-school celebration in their classrooms. They have carted home at least 2,317 loose papers in various states of crumplification, 3 half-empty bottles of glue, 12 multi-colored folders stuffed with graded homework from September, approximately 48 nubby crayons, and at least 22 Time--for Kids magazines.
How all of this fit into their desks, I am not sure. My bet is on some sort of tear in the fabric of space/time which exists only in school desks, allowing 100 times more matter to inhabit its interior than seems logically possible.
The kids are already excited and have an erroneous assumption that they will playing with the Wii for at least ten hours each day. No school. No homework. What else could possibly stand in their way?
Ah...such foolish innocence...so quick to forget the mean mommy who will place limits on them.
Sunday, June 01, 2008
Music
One of my favorite songwriters is Sara Groves. I'm not sure if it's her voice, her song-writing, or my identification with a woman about the same age as me.
Either way...her music always plays David to my King Saul.
A good song, but there are even more I like better.
Either way...her music always plays David to my King Saul.
A good song, but there are even more I like better.
Sunday Blah's
I'm missing church again this morning.
Although I feel well in general, some swelling has developed right under my arm from the surgery. Right by my shoulder it looks as if someone slid a small lime just under my skin. Sort of freaky. It's not a big deal, and will dissipate over the next couple of weeks, but for the moment it makes wearing certain clothing very uncomfortable.
And then there's the fact that I am still unbalanced, physically speaking. I can't get a prosthesis, for another week or so, which makes sitting in church, hoping the polyester-fill puffs that I can wear aren't shifting around, an unappealing choice.
I had enough embarrassing moments in my adolescence, I don't need to add to my mental collection of humiliation. Creating new memories in that category is the opposite of what I was hoping for as I aged. I'd rather let the ones I do recall fade to black as my memory gets worse. No need to replace them.
Anyway, I miss church. Getting out of the house and having something else to focus on would be good for me. Plus, I'm missing communion today and won't partake in it again until the first Sunday of the next month.
However, by then I should be unswollen, balanced, and mostly normal...although I'm not sure normal is a good word to describe me.
:-)
Although I feel well in general, some swelling has developed right under my arm from the surgery. Right by my shoulder it looks as if someone slid a small lime just under my skin. Sort of freaky. It's not a big deal, and will dissipate over the next couple of weeks, but for the moment it makes wearing certain clothing very uncomfortable.
And then there's the fact that I am still unbalanced, physically speaking. I can't get a prosthesis, for another week or so, which makes sitting in church, hoping the polyester-fill puffs that I can wear aren't shifting around, an unappealing choice.
I had enough embarrassing moments in my adolescence, I don't need to add to my mental collection of humiliation. Creating new memories in that category is the opposite of what I was hoping for as I aged. I'd rather let the ones I do recall fade to black as my memory gets worse. No need to replace them.
Anyway, I miss church. Getting out of the house and having something else to focus on would be good for me. Plus, I'm missing communion today and won't partake in it again until the first Sunday of the next month.
However, by then I should be unswollen, balanced, and mostly normal...although I'm not sure normal is a good word to describe me.
:-)
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