That's me, apparently! ( This post originated in April of 2018)
I went to lunch the other day with my friend Claudia, and my just turned 5 grandson Luca. We went to Chick-Fil-A on the Parkway.
Luca was super excited to play in the children's play area, to the point that he wanted to go in before we even ordered. I told him that was fine but to come eat as soon as we had our food.
Suddenly he is at my side again as I place my order. Hmm, that's odd. Well, no matter. He informs me that there is a mommy there so he doesn't want to be there right now.
Mind you, I used to go there with him regularly and he always wanted me to be near by, preferably in there sitting on the bench while he played, but it's all good.
He finishes his meal (well, mostly!) and wants to go in and play. I see that a mom and dad and their little one have just left the play area and tell him. He still seems hesitant and I open the door for him and see no one in there. He goes in and it dawns on me that I had seen some pretty big flip flops and sandals left there. I go sit down and think how odd that someone would abandon their shoes in there.
I see movement out of the corner of my eye and after some straining see that there is someone up in the play equipment. Someone big. Oh wait, TWO teenagers, girls, both of whom are too big to be in the play area, as well as a boy likely ten or so who is the correct size to play therein. They are climbing around, crawling around, etc. suddenly my little guy, obviously feeling quite intimidated, dashes like mad over to the where the slide come down, crawls under it, curls in and hides.
The boy and these two adult sized adolescents come out (somehow) of the climbing tower. I mention to my friend, "I don't think they're supposed to be in there!"
Claudia immediately says something to a young employee who says she will get a manager. Okay, that's good. I wait a moment, see no manager coming, and the young lady in question simply avoiding the area.
Now, I gave them a moment and I know the girls can see plainly that any and everyone who cares to look can see them.
Enough is enough. Enter the Dragon Lady.
I get up and go open the door to the play area, preceded by ANOTHER adolescent girl who is too big to be playing in here. She has just kicked off her shoes when I say "You girls are too big to be playing in here. You know you are."
Affronted looks and shocked faces at that. Is someone DARING to correct them???? Um, yeah.
The one girl stares at me with a defiant look and an expression that says certainly I cannot possibly mean her! At which point I look directly at her and say "Yes, you."
They have nothing to say until I say "Did I need to get a manager? Because I can do that." Sudden "no, no you don't need to do that." But not one hint of movement. I then tell them" I'll just go get a manager."
Mind you, as I head up to locate a manager, there is suddenly a great deal of movement there. The four of them hastily exit.
After I talk to someone and relate that I have already taken care of a situation, I return to my seat and see that the children in question have returned to their mothers who had been sitting together enjoying a chat.
My little guy is much relieved and playing happily now as 5 year olds are intended.
(Note - I inadvertently left this unfinished. I now return much later to finish. Hereafter is from memory)
As I sit and finish eating and chatting with my friend, I notice the mothers have been joined by their 'children' and are being regaled with the tale of their misadventure. I see at the end of the tale that they are SHOCKED! Shocked and appalled that someone would dare nay say their precious darlings. What?? Not allow adult sized adolescents to play in the child space where small children are allotted a safe environment?? They take out their cameras and I see they are taking pictures of me and also searching madly for - what, exactly? The CEO of Chick-Fil-A to complain about their bad parenting?? And talking. Oh, my, they are talking to each other and over each other and at each other a mile a minute. The SHOCK of a responsible adult being responsible is apparently quite a shock to their systems.
Look, I'm sure they wanted to have a friendly and uninterrupted by their children adult 'girl time' lunch. That's when you DON'T BRING YOUR CHILDREN. You don't get time off from parenting if your children are with you, perhaps ESPECIALLY if they are teenagers.
Think of me as the Dragon Lady all you like. Your opinion of me is of zero interest to me. I will protect my grandchildren from foolishness caused by others and their negligence EVERY TIME. Every time.
Wednesday, January 1, 2020
Monday, April 23, 2018
Alternate Reality
I have been pondering this very odd thing.
When you have CANCER - and it is all caps, like that - it becomes your reality, yes, but more than that - it becomes your world. Everything in your life is colored by it. EVERYTHING.
It is not that you want to embrace it, because you would really like to do nothing more than get as far away from it as is possible. Tough - it is going to suck to be you for a while, there is no getting away from it. Now for some people, that "while" is not very long a time and not terribly difficult a time. Others among us, however - "us" being that so special club that no one wants to be in - have a longer, harder and just awful time of it.
What is strange to me as a woman who is very pleased to consider that I have kicked cancer to the curb, is that regardless of my being where I am on my road to recovery I am still swimming with that current that says "careful now - cancer is just there, within reach."
Because it is, you know. Breast cancer loves to go to skin, lungs, eyes, and bones. This doesn't mean it WILL metastasize there or anywhere. Having been diagnosed as stage 3A does increase the likelihood, however, and no matter how much you don't want to even think about that, you cannot help BUT think about that. It is part of who you are now. Cancer..
So you do what you can to improve your chances. Eat right, lose weight, exercise, stay up with all of your exams, have your eyes checked annually instead of every 2 years, monitor your own body for any weird thing that could happen, read up on advances, discoveries, new protocols about the drugs you have to take, etc., etc.
You know, nonetheless, that all of these things might be for naught. You might not ever so much as have a hiccup in your health again,or you could find yourself right back at the battle's edge again. You could have prime rib, ice cream sundaes, and pecan pie for every meal or never, ever touch them again and it is still a roll of the dice that you just have to accept.
Then there is the whole thing where you KNOW you have had cancer, your entire world was engulfed in the battle and now down the road someone asks as innocuous a question as "Oh, did you hurt your arm?" when they see your compression sleeve and your brain runs through this whole litany of "I know they knew I had cancer; what? This is someone I've just met and they have no idea I had cancer! How much do I tell them - since it really is none of their business anyway, How polite do I have to be Do I have to be polite at all (notice puctuation in your internal litany disappears entirely) How long has it been since I have seen this person How could THIS person have forgotten all that I have told them before Why is this battle even raging in my head How do I make light of it when I hate this doggone thing How do I make it seem relatively unimportant How do I fling off this feeling of intrusion on my personal buffer How do I let this person know How do I keep this person out of my feelings Why do my doggone feelings jump up and invade my calm Shut up Melanie and say something and the chips may fall where they fall."
You don't want to make someone else uncomfortable and yet how is that your issue? Because I really have to tell you, while I was very much socialized to be nice, polite, kind, compassionate, etc., this trip down cancer's ugly road has shown me I don't really have time to be those things. I won't go out of my way to be ugly and I am, in part, nice, polite, kind, compassionate. I need to be those things TO and FOR me, though. First, for me. Then comes the rest of the world.
Please note that unbeknownst to me, this entry has been sitting in my draft file for YEARS now. It remains valid and so I now choose to post it.
When you have CANCER - and it is all caps, like that - it becomes your reality, yes, but more than that - it becomes your world. Everything in your life is colored by it. EVERYTHING.
It is not that you want to embrace it, because you would really like to do nothing more than get as far away from it as is possible. Tough - it is going to suck to be you for a while, there is no getting away from it. Now for some people, that "while" is not very long a time and not terribly difficult a time. Others among us, however - "us" being that so special club that no one wants to be in - have a longer, harder and just awful time of it.
What is strange to me as a woman who is very pleased to consider that I have kicked cancer to the curb, is that regardless of my being where I am on my road to recovery I am still swimming with that current that says "careful now - cancer is just there, within reach."
Because it is, you know. Breast cancer loves to go to skin, lungs, eyes, and bones. This doesn't mean it WILL metastasize there or anywhere. Having been diagnosed as stage 3A does increase the likelihood, however, and no matter how much you don't want to even think about that, you cannot help BUT think about that. It is part of who you are now. Cancer..
So you do what you can to improve your chances. Eat right, lose weight, exercise, stay up with all of your exams, have your eyes checked annually instead of every 2 years, monitor your own body for any weird thing that could happen, read up on advances, discoveries, new protocols about the drugs you have to take, etc., etc.
You know, nonetheless, that all of these things might be for naught. You might not ever so much as have a hiccup in your health again,or you could find yourself right back at the battle's edge again. You could have prime rib, ice cream sundaes, and pecan pie for every meal or never, ever touch them again and it is still a roll of the dice that you just have to accept.
Then there is the whole thing where you KNOW you have had cancer, your entire world was engulfed in the battle and now down the road someone asks as innocuous a question as "Oh, did you hurt your arm?" when they see your compression sleeve and your brain runs through this whole litany of "I know they knew I had cancer; what? This is someone I've just met and they have no idea I had cancer! How much do I tell them - since it really is none of their business anyway, How polite do I have to be Do I have to be polite at all (notice puctuation in your internal litany disappears entirely) How long has it been since I have seen this person How could THIS person have forgotten all that I have told them before Why is this battle even raging in my head How do I make light of it when I hate this doggone thing How do I make it seem relatively unimportant How do I fling off this feeling of intrusion on my personal buffer How do I let this person know How do I keep this person out of my feelings Why do my doggone feelings jump up and invade my calm Shut up Melanie and say something and the chips may fall where they fall."
You don't want to make someone else uncomfortable and yet how is that your issue? Because I really have to tell you, while I was very much socialized to be nice, polite, kind, compassionate, etc., this trip down cancer's ugly road has shown me I don't really have time to be those things. I won't go out of my way to be ugly and I am, in part, nice, polite, kind, compassionate. I need to be those things TO and FOR me, though. First, for me. Then comes the rest of the world.
Please note that unbeknownst to me, this entry has been sitting in my draft file for YEARS now. It remains valid and so I now choose to post it.
Saturday, August 16, 2014
Travels and Travails or Why I Love The South
It is hard to believe it is already the middle of August! The year is flying by and this wild ride called life is full of, well, life!
My son's mother-in-law had a health issue and I filled in watching our youngest grandson 'Luca for 4 weeks. I dearly love the little guy and, so saying, he is exhausting! Ah, these reminders of why God gives children to younger people!
Yes, I was tired and absolutely nothing got done in my house AND - Ruben and I had a blast with him. We would go most weekday mornings to Costco when they first opened to use our "Costco Gym membership" - which is what we call it; walking the outer perimeter of the inside of the store when they are not busy. 'Luca now knows more people at Costco than his parents do. In fact, his daddy took him to the store one day and several people stopped them, cooed and chatted with 'Luca and asked "Where are his grandparents?" We have decided that he sort of owns Costco now. He would wave and chatter and had some who were his particular favorites there. Oh, yes - he L-O-V-E-S "la macchina" - the sweeping machine that is kind of a Zamboni for concrete floors. He would get so excited when he heard and saw it. We would come home and get some lunch and nap and when he woke up have some watermelon and at any and all times during the day play and laugh and learn and have fun. He is a very busy little guy.
Ruben and I went up to Huntsville and Lake Guntersville, Alabama for the 4th of July, as has become our habit. We had a most interesting trip this time.
That morning (July 1st) as we were leaving, Ruben mentioned that he had been "a gallon" low on liquid in the radiator before we left. Hmm. That doesn't sound good.
Well, obviously, he had addressed the problem and we were off on our merry way. We were just north of Birmingham, several hours later, and making good time. We were singing along to the radio, chatting. laughing, enjoying the day when out of the blue my husband says "Oh, I need to pull over for a minute. The temperature gauge just went to extreme heat."
Oh. I see. So we pull over on the side of the road, the INTERSTATE, up goes the hood, and lo and behold there is some serious heat coming out from the engine. By the way, it is in the mid 90's, very humid and even though it is a Tuesday, there is a good bit of traffic on I-65 Northbound.
Sure that my husband has a container of water in the truck bed I ask about that. Wait a minute - this is hard for me to assimilate. My husband who always has a container of water with him not only does not have a container of water with him, he doesn't even have an empty container? What??? That makes no sense whatsoever!
Well, we do have 2 drink glasses from our stop at Hardee's for lunch (in case you don't know, Hardee's hamburgers are absolutely delicious. Dare I say, the best fast food burgers out there.), and I had brought a travel bottle of water which was about half full by now. Yeah, that is not enough to do any good. Also we had been meaning to get AMAC road service....
Well, this is not good. We have to wait for the engine to cool to try anything anyway, and did I mention that it was mid 90's and quite humid and we were on the side of the Interstate?
I texted my sweet baby sister with a photo of the truck on the side of the highway with its hood up and the text was "Don't freak out." Well, she was with her wonderful hubby, my b-i-l David. He is an aerospace engineer, and the master of we can handle this. He did immediately mention to us that we were only an hour or two from our destination and he would happily come get us if we needed to go that route. Okay, that is on the possibility list. In the meantime, what to do...
Out of the blue, or more accurately the grayish heat haze, an Alabama Power truck has pulled over on the side of the road and is backing up towards us. God bless these guys they get on the appropriate and required by their job safety vests and come to our assistance. I cannot now remember the guy's name but he had told us he had been broken down on this stretch of road before and had found out that the people who are supposed to provide assistance to stranded motorists (really - there is an agency that is supposed to do this in Alabama!) did NOT come along this stretch of the road. Great!
First of all he asks "Do you have a container for water or some engine coolant?" Yeah, well, that is a no. He gently chastises us and I swear this is probably the first time EVER since I have known my husband that we did NOT have either engine coolant/anti-freeze and/or a jug of or for water.
At any rate, he loads us up with what water they have available including giving us a bottle of drinking water - GREATLY appreciated by now as we had been out in the heat for probably about 30 to 45 minutes - and told us where to go.
Well, here is where you WANT someone to tell you where to go! You know - for assistance!
We take off towards the next exit and they follow us. We went to the right when we got off and they had wanted us to go left. They followed us again to get us back where they were directing us. Unfortunately, by this time (7 or 8 miles total later) the engine decides to go back into overheat again. We had pulled over in front of a little out of the way antique and collectible store which is ALL that was out there. We told them we were going to have to let the engine cool down again, got additional directions to the auto place they were attempting to direct us towards, thanked them and had to wait. So I go into the antique store and look around, Ruben joins me in a bit and we just have to wait it out. Ruben does get to talking to the owner. Surprise, we talk to people everywhere. (I seem to remember a son of mine complaining to me "Mom - do you HAVE to talk to everyone?" Mm, yes. Yes I do.) Ruben obtains an old milk carton - ah! a perfect vessel to keep in your vehicle so you always have something to put water in because you NEVER KNOW WHEN YOU MIGHT NEED IT! - and fills it with water multiple times to fill the radiator.
We actually had a very pleasant chat with these people. It was in Kimberly, Alabama and the son who was working there was also going to be going to Lake Guntersville for the 4th.
The engine cools enough to drive and we head back towards the interstate to find the auto store. Mind you, I am very anxious about the state of the heat therein and I can smell that burning smell possibly only because I am expecting flames to leap out from under the hood. We get to the other side of the underpass and Ruben decides to stop at the gas station. We were going to consider our next step there and I was rather insistent that he buy some engine coolant PERIOD!
Now this was weird. Because, you know, none of what went before was out of the ordinary. Uh-huh. Ruben said to me, You know - that last time when I added liquid I could see like this glop of "cooked", if you will, anti-freeze kind of shoot out and I think it was blocking the valve which is what was causing this problem as no liquid was getting where it needed to be." Mm-hmm.
So now, AFTER we bought the engine coolant (okay, maybe I needed it more than the vehicle did), he thinks we're good. Okey-dokey. Well, I'm just along for the ride, baby. So whatever happens, happens.
For real, peeps! We hit the road and headed on up to Huntsville and have not had a problem at all with the radiator since!
I had been thinking that day of how truly thankful I am and how I do know my husband is also truly thankful that we are both positive people. Can you imagine having been with some gripe-y complain-y grumpy person in these circumstances? Okay, in any circumstances? NO!!
We had a great time in Huntsville. I visited with both of my sisters, my sweet Jim-Bob nephew came to see us, our bonus nephew Jake came by, we stopped at mom and dad's grave for a visit, we ate like kings, we laughed, we went up to the Lake House where oh, how lovely to have a cool enough morning that we had to go get blankies to enjoy the breezeway. Really - on the 4th of July!
Anyway, we had a lovely visit, we even laughed about the truck situation and we made it home again in fine form.
My son's mother-in-law had a health issue and I filled in watching our youngest grandson 'Luca for 4 weeks. I dearly love the little guy and, so saying, he is exhausting! Ah, these reminders of why God gives children to younger people!
Yes, I was tired and absolutely nothing got done in my house AND - Ruben and I had a blast with him. We would go most weekday mornings to Costco when they first opened to use our "Costco Gym membership" - which is what we call it; walking the outer perimeter of the inside of the store when they are not busy. 'Luca now knows more people at Costco than his parents do. In fact, his daddy took him to the store one day and several people stopped them, cooed and chatted with 'Luca and asked "Where are his grandparents?" We have decided that he sort of owns Costco now. He would wave and chatter and had some who were his particular favorites there. Oh, yes - he L-O-V-E-S "la macchina" - the sweeping machine that is kind of a Zamboni for concrete floors. He would get so excited when he heard and saw it. We would come home and get some lunch and nap and when he woke up have some watermelon and at any and all times during the day play and laugh and learn and have fun. He is a very busy little guy.
Ruben and I went up to Huntsville and Lake Guntersville, Alabama for the 4th of July, as has become our habit. We had a most interesting trip this time.
That morning (July 1st) as we were leaving, Ruben mentioned that he had been "a gallon" low on liquid in the radiator before we left. Hmm. That doesn't sound good.
Well, obviously, he had addressed the problem and we were off on our merry way. We were just north of Birmingham, several hours later, and making good time. We were singing along to the radio, chatting. laughing, enjoying the day when out of the blue my husband says "Oh, I need to pull over for a minute. The temperature gauge just went to extreme heat."
Oh. I see. So we pull over on the side of the road, the INTERSTATE, up goes the hood, and lo and behold there is some serious heat coming out from the engine. By the way, it is in the mid 90's, very humid and even though it is a Tuesday, there is a good bit of traffic on I-65 Northbound.
Sure that my husband has a container of water in the truck bed I ask about that. Wait a minute - this is hard for me to assimilate. My husband who always has a container of water with him not only does not have a container of water with him, he doesn't even have an empty container? What??? That makes no sense whatsoever!
Well, we do have 2 drink glasses from our stop at Hardee's for lunch (in case you don't know, Hardee's hamburgers are absolutely delicious. Dare I say, the best fast food burgers out there.), and I had brought a travel bottle of water which was about half full by now. Yeah, that is not enough to do any good. Also we had been meaning to get AMAC road service....
Well, this is not good. We have to wait for the engine to cool to try anything anyway, and did I mention that it was mid 90's and quite humid and we were on the side of the Interstate?
I texted my sweet baby sister with a photo of the truck on the side of the highway with its hood up and the text was "Don't freak out." Well, she was with her wonderful hubby, my b-i-l David. He is an aerospace engineer, and the master of we can handle this. He did immediately mention to us that we were only an hour or two from our destination and he would happily come get us if we needed to go that route. Okay, that is on the possibility list. In the meantime, what to do...
Out of the blue, or more accurately the grayish heat haze, an Alabama Power truck has pulled over on the side of the road and is backing up towards us. God bless these guys they get on the appropriate and required by their job safety vests and come to our assistance. I cannot now remember the guy's name but he had told us he had been broken down on this stretch of road before and had found out that the people who are supposed to provide assistance to stranded motorists (really - there is an agency that is supposed to do this in Alabama!) did NOT come along this stretch of the road. Great!
First of all he asks "Do you have a container for water or some engine coolant?" Yeah, well, that is a no. He gently chastises us and I swear this is probably the first time EVER since I have known my husband that we did NOT have either engine coolant/anti-freeze and/or a jug of or for water.
At any rate, he loads us up with what water they have available including giving us a bottle of drinking water - GREATLY appreciated by now as we had been out in the heat for probably about 30 to 45 minutes - and told us where to go.
Well, here is where you WANT someone to tell you where to go! You know - for assistance!
We take off towards the next exit and they follow us. We went to the right when we got off and they had wanted us to go left. They followed us again to get us back where they were directing us. Unfortunately, by this time (7 or 8 miles total later) the engine decides to go back into overheat again. We had pulled over in front of a little out of the way antique and collectible store which is ALL that was out there. We told them we were going to have to let the engine cool down again, got additional directions to the auto place they were attempting to direct us towards, thanked them and had to wait. So I go into the antique store and look around, Ruben joins me in a bit and we just have to wait it out. Ruben does get to talking to the owner. Surprise, we talk to people everywhere. (I seem to remember a son of mine complaining to me "Mom - do you HAVE to talk to everyone?" Mm, yes. Yes I do.) Ruben obtains an old milk carton - ah! a perfect vessel to keep in your vehicle so you always have something to put water in because you NEVER KNOW WHEN YOU MIGHT NEED IT! - and fills it with water multiple times to fill the radiator.
We actually had a very pleasant chat with these people. It was in Kimberly, Alabama and the son who was working there was also going to be going to Lake Guntersville for the 4th.
The engine cools enough to drive and we head back towards the interstate to find the auto store. Mind you, I am very anxious about the state of the heat therein and I can smell that burning smell possibly only because I am expecting flames to leap out from under the hood. We get to the other side of the underpass and Ruben decides to stop at the gas station. We were going to consider our next step there and I was rather insistent that he buy some engine coolant PERIOD!
Now this was weird. Because, you know, none of what went before was out of the ordinary. Uh-huh. Ruben said to me, You know - that last time when I added liquid I could see like this glop of "cooked", if you will, anti-freeze kind of shoot out and I think it was blocking the valve which is what was causing this problem as no liquid was getting where it needed to be." Mm-hmm.
So now, AFTER we bought the engine coolant (okay, maybe I needed it more than the vehicle did), he thinks we're good. Okey-dokey. Well, I'm just along for the ride, baby. So whatever happens, happens.
For real, peeps! We hit the road and headed on up to Huntsville and have not had a problem at all with the radiator since!
I had been thinking that day of how truly thankful I am and how I do know my husband is also truly thankful that we are both positive people. Can you imagine having been with some gripe-y complain-y grumpy person in these circumstances? Okay, in any circumstances? NO!!
We had a great time in Huntsville. I visited with both of my sisters, my sweet Jim-Bob nephew came to see us, our bonus nephew Jake came by, we stopped at mom and dad's grave for a visit, we ate like kings, we laughed, we went up to the Lake House where oh, how lovely to have a cool enough morning that we had to go get blankies to enjoy the breezeway. Really - on the 4th of July!
Anyway, we had a lovely visit, we even laughed about the truck situation and we made it home again in fine form.
Tuesday, May 27, 2014
Halcyon Days - part 2
Well! A year later!!
Let's finish what I started, shall I?
I am living halcyon days...
A continuing litany of those to whom I am grateful
My sisters
Nancy - with her own busy family schedule - kept me in her loop of prayer and conversation and I know she loves me, just as I love her.
Thanks for sustaining me to my baby sister Linda.
Linda - who "gets me" like no one else in the world, with a smaller family was able to be more active. She and David, my brother-in-law, and my favorite youngest nephew Malcolm came to see me shortly after my first chemo cocktail infusion. They were absolutely not going to stay here but at a nearby hotel because it would just have been too much for me so soon after the mastectomy and chemo. Okay, let's face it - there is nothing "nearby" my house. It's 3 miles down the road to the nearest business which is a gas station. That is also the nearest traffic light. They needed to know I was okay and I actually needed to have them stay here. There is room and I convinced Linda - stay for one night here and if it really is too much for me then you could go to a hotel. Hee hee, there was no way I was going to let them go to a hotel. I showed her my site. I needed to show someone who loves me and who herself had been through a surgery that made her feel helpless. Yes, hers was a hip replacement but you catch my drift. She encouraged me when she saw it and helped me start to move away from seeing it as only "the technicolor, three dimensional topographic map of a nightmare railroad crash scene from a horror movie" that I saw it to be.
Later during my recovery period she saved my life every day. Oh, not in the sense that I was physically dieing, but I did have a time where I was sinking and so very much in need of her buoying me up. We would chat every single evening. She told me one night "You know what you need? You need a bed time story." "I do???" "Yes," she said, "you do." She proceeded to start reading me Junie B, First Grader. We laughed our behinds off. Grr, blabberlips, I love you.
No one "gets me" the way Linda does. No one. She claims I am an easy audience but she makes me laugh SO HARD! We will be visiting and giggling and suddenly Linda and I realize that David has separated us. This is most likely for the best and it amuses us greatly.
One visit we had all gone up to their lake house in Lake Guntersville, AL. Linda and I were walking from our car up to the store - "the Pig" as she likes to call it. A red pickup truck drove past and Linda smiled and waved most energetically at the driver, who waved back with that "oh man, who is that again?" look on her face. Linda commented to me "She has no idea who I am. That's because I don't know her." I am sitting here typing this and laughing so hard my sides ache just remembering that. "Don't you do that?" she asks. No, can't say as I do.
Hey, we enjoyed it!
My sweet nephew Jamie. This child was 101st Airborne, 1BCT, 2nd Btln, Delta Demons (well, they can't all be Bravo Bayonets) and was stationed in Afghanistan. His unit was under great duress. They lost several brothers in arms. As a former blue star mom, I know what his mom was going through and I know the fear I felt for him and his comrades. Your heart bleeds with worry and compassion and fear for them, indeed for all our military heroes. Never having been in theater I cannot feel THAT, but oh how I feel the care of it from a mom's heart. This child IN AFGHANISTAN - IN WAR - IN HELL was worried about his aunt Melanie. How sweet a heart is that? How caring and loving a spirit is that?
He came to visit me with his then fiancee, now wife Megan because he wanted to be sure I was doing okay. He is in my heart and my prayers every day, my "Jim-Bob" - every day.
My uncle Dave and aunt Jo, and my Louisiana cousins - During my treatment, uncle & aunt wanted to be in my heart and sent me a check to get SOMETHING that would cheer me, would remind me that they love me and were praying for me. Now I love a good wind chime. Did I mention I LOVE a good wind chime? Poor hubby patiently and with a bit of a grin on his face tolerates with humor my constant quest for GOOD wind chimes. I cannot pass a display of them without testing... So I bought a wonderful wind chime that hangs on my back porch and which, of course from the wind, and from every time I chime it resonates with this wonderful, sweet sound lingering in the air like a prayer wending its way heavenward. I LOVE IT!!!!!! I have one from Linda, one from uncle Dave & aunt Jo, and one from Rebecca and they are all different tones but each of them lingers in the air like the sweet aroma of a fragrant flower.
When I had progressed to being up to making a small trip I was made welcome in Abita Springs for a visit with Dave & Jo in all my then hairless glory. My cousins also were welcoming and kind and I didn't feel like I was being stared at for being this strangely bald weirdo, you know? Well, you don't really know, but just go with it. I was surrounded by loving support and kindness.
My dear friends Isolde and Nino. How many times Isolde would cook for me and just love me. Nino was among the first outside of my immediate family with whom I felt comfortable removing my hat. He looked at me and said in his charming Italian accent, "Oh, that is so cute! You look just so cute!"
There were others who helped love me through this trial. Because it was a trial. It was a walking through fire - and I have come out the other side with scars that are not so very bad! With God's grace and loving mercy I have been strengthened and blessed and I hope I am his instrument DAILY of beauty and grace. I will stop here with this entry of gratitude. I just hope that every one who is NOT mentioned understands that I do value and cherish each kind thought, each prayer, every meal, every inquiry after my well being. If I don't stop now, I could go on and on for many many more PAGES!!
Let's finish what I started, shall I?
I am living halcyon days...
A continuing litany of those to whom I am grateful
My sisters
Nancy - with her own busy family schedule - kept me in her loop of prayer and conversation and I know she loves me, just as I love her.
Thanks for sustaining me to my baby sister Linda.
Linda - who "gets me" like no one else in the world, with a smaller family was able to be more active. She and David, my brother-in-law, and my favorite youngest nephew Malcolm came to see me shortly after my first chemo cocktail infusion. They were absolutely not going to stay here but at a nearby hotel because it would just have been too much for me so soon after the mastectomy and chemo. Okay, let's face it - there is nothing "nearby" my house. It's 3 miles down the road to the nearest business which is a gas station. That is also the nearest traffic light. They needed to know I was okay and I actually needed to have them stay here. There is room and I convinced Linda - stay for one night here and if it really is too much for me then you could go to a hotel. Hee hee, there was no way I was going to let them go to a hotel. I showed her my site. I needed to show someone who loves me and who herself had been through a surgery that made her feel helpless. Yes, hers was a hip replacement but you catch my drift. She encouraged me when she saw it and helped me start to move away from seeing it as only "the technicolor, three dimensional topographic map of a nightmare railroad crash scene from a horror movie" that I saw it to be.
Later during my recovery period she saved my life every day. Oh, not in the sense that I was physically dieing, but I did have a time where I was sinking and so very much in need of her buoying me up. We would chat every single evening. She told me one night "You know what you need? You need a bed time story." "I do???" "Yes," she said, "you do." She proceeded to start reading me Junie B, First Grader. We laughed our behinds off. Grr, blabberlips, I love you.
If you have never read any books in this series - which, by the way, I later bought the complete set - Junie B is a most horribly behaved little girl that is in sore need of some correction. However, as a character in a book you can just laugh at. My brother-in-law walked in on Linda on the phone one evening, saw her with the book and asked "You aren't reading that to Melanie, are you?" "Yes, I am." "Oh." He left the room and we both giggled.
No one "gets me" the way Linda does. No one. She claims I am an easy audience but she makes me laugh SO HARD! We will be visiting and giggling and suddenly Linda and I realize that David has separated us. This is most likely for the best and it amuses us greatly.
One visit we had all gone up to their lake house in Lake Guntersville, AL. Linda and I were walking from our car up to the store - "the Pig" as she likes to call it. A red pickup truck drove past and Linda smiled and waved most energetically at the driver, who waved back with that "oh man, who is that again?" look on her face. Linda commented to me "She has no idea who I am. That's because I don't know her." I am sitting here typing this and laughing so hard my sides ache just remembering that. "Don't you do that?" she asks. No, can't say as I do.
Hey, we enjoyed it!
My sweet nephew Jamie. This child was 101st Airborne, 1BCT, 2nd Btln, Delta Demons (well, they can't all be Bravo Bayonets) and was stationed in Afghanistan. His unit was under great duress. They lost several brothers in arms. As a former blue star mom, I know what his mom was going through and I know the fear I felt for him and his comrades. Your heart bleeds with worry and compassion and fear for them, indeed for all our military heroes. Never having been in theater I cannot feel THAT, but oh how I feel the care of it from a mom's heart. This child IN AFGHANISTAN - IN WAR - IN HELL was worried about his aunt Melanie. How sweet a heart is that? How caring and loving a spirit is that?
He came to visit me with his then fiancee, now wife Megan because he wanted to be sure I was doing okay. He is in my heart and my prayers every day, my "Jim-Bob" - every day.
My uncle Dave and aunt Jo, and my Louisiana cousins - During my treatment, uncle & aunt wanted to be in my heart and sent me a check to get SOMETHING that would cheer me, would remind me that they love me and were praying for me. Now I love a good wind chime. Did I mention I LOVE a good wind chime? Poor hubby patiently and with a bit of a grin on his face tolerates with humor my constant quest for GOOD wind chimes. I cannot pass a display of them without testing... So I bought a wonderful wind chime that hangs on my back porch and which, of course from the wind, and from every time I chime it resonates with this wonderful, sweet sound lingering in the air like a prayer wending its way heavenward. I LOVE IT!!!!!! I have one from Linda, one from uncle Dave & aunt Jo, and one from Rebecca and they are all different tones but each of them lingers in the air like the sweet aroma of a fragrant flower.
When I had progressed to being up to making a small trip I was made welcome in Abita Springs for a visit with Dave & Jo in all my then hairless glory. My cousins also were welcoming and kind and I didn't feel like I was being stared at for being this strangely bald weirdo, you know? Well, you don't really know, but just go with it. I was surrounded by loving support and kindness.
My dear friends Isolde and Nino. How many times Isolde would cook for me and just love me. Nino was among the first outside of my immediate family with whom I felt comfortable removing my hat. He looked at me and said in his charming Italian accent, "Oh, that is so cute! You look just so cute!"
There were others who helped love me through this trial. Because it was a trial. It was a walking through fire - and I have come out the other side with scars that are not so very bad! With God's grace and loving mercy I have been strengthened and blessed and I hope I am his instrument DAILY of beauty and grace. I will stop here with this entry of gratitude. I just hope that every one who is NOT mentioned understands that I do value and cherish each kind thought, each prayer, every meal, every inquiry after my well being. If I don't stop now, I could go on and on for many many more PAGES!!
Monday, May 27, 2013
Memorial Day 2013
Before I write part 2 of my Halcyon Days post, I wanted to post this one to express appreciation to our fallen and to express patriotism.
Some people look down on that as being "corny" or something. This is something I just don't really understand.
I love this country. God Bless America. That is more than just a song - which makes me cry, by the way - it is absolutely a prayer for this nation.
I thank God every day that my own son and my own nephew did not pay the ultimate sacrifice. Selfish? Perhaps. And yet I know that every mother, every wife, every family member of a military man who survives feels exactly the same way.
Do we feel a little guilty at that relief? Yes. More than the guilt, however, is the gratitude that while we may even now be blue star family members, we are not gold star family members.
That is a club that no one wants to join. I absolutely give honor to every gold star family member.
In 2010, we visited Washington D.C. and it was absolutely an honor to visit Arlington National Cemetery. This is a beautiful cemetery. I had no desire whatsoever to visit the grave of JFK and most especially because "Teddy" was buried there. (Sorry any Kennedy fans - that younger brother was one evil piece of work.)
The Tomb of the Unknown Soldier, however, was our truest goal. We waited to see the changing of the guard ceremony. What a powerful and moving ceremony that is.
We looked out on what seems like an ocean of white military grave markers. And we thanked our Lord and Savior to be able to do so and to be able to look at them without what must surely be a bitter-sweet knowledge of one of our own being there.
It is an honor to be buried at Arlington. It is an honor to be buried at any military cemetery as it is a sign of your service to our nation. Arlington is special. There is limited space available and for most families in this country it is additionally an inconvenience. It is a sacrifice they may choose to make in order to give an additional respect and honor to their loved one who made the ultimate sacrifice.
Thank you to our fallen who lay at rest, wherever they may lay at rest. Thank you to the "Old Guard" who daily honor the unknowns and that for which the unknowns stand - all military men and women who served and died with honor. Thank you to all Gold Star family members for your loved ones. May they rest in peace, and may your hearts find peace in their sacrifice.
God Bless America.
Some people look down on that as being "corny" or something. This is something I just don't really understand.
I love this country. God Bless America. That is more than just a song - which makes me cry, by the way - it is absolutely a prayer for this nation.
I thank God every day that my own son and my own nephew did not pay the ultimate sacrifice. Selfish? Perhaps. And yet I know that every mother, every wife, every family member of a military man who survives feels exactly the same way.
Do we feel a little guilty at that relief? Yes. More than the guilt, however, is the gratitude that while we may even now be blue star family members, we are not gold star family members.
That is a club that no one wants to join. I absolutely give honor to every gold star family member.
In 2010, we visited Washington D.C. and it was absolutely an honor to visit Arlington National Cemetery. This is a beautiful cemetery. I had no desire whatsoever to visit the grave of JFK and most especially because "Teddy" was buried there. (Sorry any Kennedy fans - that younger brother was one evil piece of work.)
The Tomb of the Unknown Soldier, however, was our truest goal. We waited to see the changing of the guard ceremony. What a powerful and moving ceremony that is.
We looked out on what seems like an ocean of white military grave markers. And we thanked our Lord and Savior to be able to do so and to be able to look at them without what must surely be a bitter-sweet knowledge of one of our own being there.
It is an honor to be buried at Arlington. It is an honor to be buried at any military cemetery as it is a sign of your service to our nation. Arlington is special. There is limited space available and for most families in this country it is additionally an inconvenience. It is a sacrifice they may choose to make in order to give an additional respect and honor to their loved one who made the ultimate sacrifice.
Thank you to our fallen who lay at rest, wherever they may lay at rest. Thank you to the "Old Guard" who daily honor the unknowns and that for which the unknowns stand - all military men and women who served and died with honor. Thank you to all Gold Star family members for your loved ones. May they rest in peace, and may your hearts find peace in their sacrifice.
God Bless America.
Friday, May 10, 2013
Halcyon Days Part 1
2011and part of 2012 were so very hard - painful, frightening, worrisome. 2011 especially was like a black hole in my life.
I completed Herceptin infusion on April 19th and that event seemed to open up the world to me again. I went on a great trip with my beloved husband, I scheduled (and completed on July 10th of this year) my revision surgery. Beyond any of my control in 2012 - BOTH of my sons married --to lovely women who give them joy-- and I have three beautiful grandchildren!!
I feel like I can relax into life again.
I believe that I have expressed this before - but come on kids - I seem to have a mind like a steel sieve, leaking thoughts out all over the place that may or may not ever again resurface.
I have been graduated to every 6 months visiting my oncologist and my last CT scan was good - clear - and I no longer have to have any of them. I have an appointment to have my infusion port removed this Tuesday coming up. I am very excited about that, I must say! I have always hated my "alien space invader", as I have called it. Nonetheless - I plan on keeping the removed port. It has been suggested I should make it into a necklace. Hmm. Well, maybe.
I am living halcyon days.
Through very trying times I have persevered with a great network of loving support. My family has been so wonderful. I could see each step of the way how frightening this cancer battle has been for them! I was made strong through weakness because they stood in strength for me. I think they are even yet unaware of how they stood in strength for me, so I am going to say here and now.
My loving husband, Ruben
I knew he loved me before this. During and now after - I KNOW he loves me. He helped care for me when I needed it, even helping me with my surgical drains, which is no lovely thing to do. I know how much he worried over every step I took. Quite literally - the first time he left me at home alone he threatened me most severely with "If you fall, if you do anything that causes you any harm I will never leave you alone again." He meant it, too! Now, admittedly, I had passed out when I got up and went to sit on the edge of the tub once when he was going to help me with the drains. I had thought I just slipped and knocked my head on the edge of the tub. Seems, though, that I passed out and fell and hit my head on the edge of the tub and told myself that it was just a slip. He was there and fully conscious, though, so one must assume he had the more accurate picture. He has held me in quiet support when boo hoo sobbing overwhelmed me at the loss of everything that came with this particular package trip. He has laughed with me and loved me and somehow quite mysteriously still found me attractive. Indeed, he has still found me beautiful. I would shout it to the world from every rooftop, every mountaintop, every available stage - this man is the love of my life. This man is the knight in shining armor that my mother wanted me to find but that I never believed existed. He does, he is, and I love him - full throttle.
My sons, Dante and Troy.
Troy was here right before I had surgery for only a visit but drove me to the hospital for my pre-hospitalization stuff. Then he made me go to lunch with him and my ex-husband. On Valentine's Day. That was strange, huh? Well I didn't consider at all that it was Valentine's Day as there were many other things on my mind, yeah? Troy kept tabs on me as he could and I know he loves his mom by his "pestiferous" behavior, as my dad used to call it. I know he would have done more if he was able, and I hope he knows I know that.
Dante, bless his heart, was right here in town and was therefore able to help more. He was there waiting at the hospital with Ruben when I had surgery. Dante is a great worrier - sorry son, that you got double worry genes! In spite of - or perhaps, because of - this, he was anxious for my well being and I must thank him for his actions thereof.
Men are most comfortable with fixing things, taking action, doing what they can as contrasted with just being there. Dante forbade me from doing the kitty litter. For 18 months he faithfully would come over, do his laundry, hang out and change the kitty litter boxes for me. Could I have done it earlier? Well, yes, but this was a way for him to demonstrate his love for me and I valued it. He and his brother teased and laughed with me, related other people's concerns for my situation to me, talked with me and loved me through it.
My sweet friend and "private nurse" Darlene
The night of my surgery, Darlene insisted she would stay with me in the hospital. Darlene is a nurse herself and she wanted to be sure I was properly taken care of and looked after. I was admittedly a bit groggy during much of this night. I could taste the anesthetic in me. FOUL! Darlene would ask me if I was okay because I was determined to get that nasty sleep gas OUT of me and I would exhale deeply. You know that is gas that will have to escape your body somehow and if you don't exhale it - it will give you extreme cramps as it finds its way into your abdomen. We neither one of us slept well that night but we'd waken and chat as she kept watch over me like my own angel. At one point in the night the street light was shining SO brightly right in our eyes through the window and we talked about that to realize that we were, after all, on the seventh floor and it was a full moon shining in at us. We laughed about that truly blonde moment!! We both were very much impressed about the nurses on the "cancer floor" and I know she felt confident I was getting very good care there.
I will keep the rest of this post for another day - I want to start my moving forward NOW, and too long a post will inhibit both readership and my writing it as well.
I completed Herceptin infusion on April 19th and that event seemed to open up the world to me again. I went on a great trip with my beloved husband, I scheduled (and completed on July 10th of this year) my revision surgery. Beyond any of my control in 2012 - BOTH of my sons married --to lovely women who give them joy-- and I have three beautiful grandchildren!!
I feel like I can relax into life again.
I believe that I have expressed this before - but come on kids - I seem to have a mind like a steel sieve, leaking thoughts out all over the place that may or may not ever again resurface.
I have been graduated to every 6 months visiting my oncologist and my last CT scan was good - clear - and I no longer have to have any of them. I have an appointment to have my infusion port removed this Tuesday coming up. I am very excited about that, I must say! I have always hated my "alien space invader", as I have called it. Nonetheless - I plan on keeping the removed port. It has been suggested I should make it into a necklace. Hmm. Well, maybe.
I am living halcyon days.
Through very trying times I have persevered with a great network of loving support. My family has been so wonderful. I could see each step of the way how frightening this cancer battle has been for them! I was made strong through weakness because they stood in strength for me. I think they are even yet unaware of how they stood in strength for me, so I am going to say here and now.
My loving husband, Ruben
I knew he loved me before this. During and now after - I KNOW he loves me. He helped care for me when I needed it, even helping me with my surgical drains, which is no lovely thing to do. I know how much he worried over every step I took. Quite literally - the first time he left me at home alone he threatened me most severely with "If you fall, if you do anything that causes you any harm I will never leave you alone again." He meant it, too! Now, admittedly, I had passed out when I got up and went to sit on the edge of the tub once when he was going to help me with the drains. I had thought I just slipped and knocked my head on the edge of the tub. Seems, though, that I passed out and fell and hit my head on the edge of the tub and told myself that it was just a slip. He was there and fully conscious, though, so one must assume he had the more accurate picture. He has held me in quiet support when boo hoo sobbing overwhelmed me at the loss of everything that came with this particular package trip. He has laughed with me and loved me and somehow quite mysteriously still found me attractive. Indeed, he has still found me beautiful. I would shout it to the world from every rooftop, every mountaintop, every available stage - this man is the love of my life. This man is the knight in shining armor that my mother wanted me to find but that I never believed existed. He does, he is, and I love him - full throttle.
My sons, Dante and Troy.
Troy was here right before I had surgery for only a visit but drove me to the hospital for my pre-hospitalization stuff. Then he made me go to lunch with him and my ex-husband. On Valentine's Day. That was strange, huh? Well I didn't consider at all that it was Valentine's Day as there were many other things on my mind, yeah? Troy kept tabs on me as he could and I know he loves his mom by his "pestiferous" behavior, as my dad used to call it. I know he would have done more if he was able, and I hope he knows I know that.
Dante, bless his heart, was right here in town and was therefore able to help more. He was there waiting at the hospital with Ruben when I had surgery. Dante is a great worrier - sorry son, that you got double worry genes! In spite of - or perhaps, because of - this, he was anxious for my well being and I must thank him for his actions thereof.
Men are most comfortable with fixing things, taking action, doing what they can as contrasted with just being there. Dante forbade me from doing the kitty litter. For 18 months he faithfully would come over, do his laundry, hang out and change the kitty litter boxes for me. Could I have done it earlier? Well, yes, but this was a way for him to demonstrate his love for me and I valued it. He and his brother teased and laughed with me, related other people's concerns for my situation to me, talked with me and loved me through it.
My sweet friend and "private nurse" Darlene
The night of my surgery, Darlene insisted she would stay with me in the hospital. Darlene is a nurse herself and she wanted to be sure I was properly taken care of and looked after. I was admittedly a bit groggy during much of this night. I could taste the anesthetic in me. FOUL! Darlene would ask me if I was okay because I was determined to get that nasty sleep gas OUT of me and I would exhale deeply. You know that is gas that will have to escape your body somehow and if you don't exhale it - it will give you extreme cramps as it finds its way into your abdomen. We neither one of us slept well that night but we'd waken and chat as she kept watch over me like my own angel. At one point in the night the street light was shining SO brightly right in our eyes through the window and we talked about that to realize that we were, after all, on the seventh floor and it was a full moon shining in at us. We laughed about that truly blonde moment!! We both were very much impressed about the nurses on the "cancer floor" and I know she felt confident I was getting very good care there.
I will keep the rest of this post for another day - I want to start my moving forward NOW, and too long a post will inhibit both readership and my writing it as well.
Friday, April 26, 2013
Mimi to the Third Power
I have had a post floating around in my head about the halcyon days I am living for some time now. That post will have to wait a little bit longer. I am overwriting it with this one about some of my more particular blessings....
After a tough patch - which, if you have been reading this blog, you know about - 2012 started bringing in some rather pronounced blessings.
Even while the difficult period still lingered, my younger son got married early in the year. My dear husband and I took a long awaited and much needed vacation out West (which was a blast!) My beautiful, precious granddaughter was born. She carries as her middle name my mother's name, which lends an additional sweetness to her arrival to we three sisters. We took a trip up to NJ to meet her and visit the little family. Bless her then little colicky heart! Alleluia she is not plagued with colic any more! My older son got married. That brought us as well a 4 year old grandson. So funny - 4 is quite an age. Oh - did I mention that both my daughters-in-law are lovely women. Not just outside, INSIDE. My sons seem settled and happy. This year it continues. Troy, Elisa, and Annachiara came for a visit. My newest grandson was born a week ago.
Annachiara -- now just shy of 8 months old. She seems like a happy little baby girl, prone to giggling and shining brightly out of her sweet little face. Her sweet little dimpled face. Oooh - mama and papa - watch out for those little mischief dimples.
Tristan - 4 years old and full of curiosity and, as my mom used to say, "pus and vinegar". He has excellent communication skills, and a sweet nature. He is, of course, 4 years old which also means he will try you to the maximum extent of his persuasive skills and charm. Ah, well do I remember having to chastise my own two and then leaving the room to laugh so as NOT to okay unacceptable behavior. They are so funny at 4.
Luca - So tiny and dear, this little guy who has his daddy's miniaturized face - and worried look. Wow - a week old today!
I also have two granddaughters in waiting. My dear husband's oldest daughter is planning on wedding soon enough (or not soon enough) and will bring me a 12 year old and a 10 year old as granddaughters - Angelina and Makinzie. We are starting to get to know them a bit at a time and I can not help but reflect how amusing it is that all ages and stages are covered sort of at once. That is, from diapers to ballet recitals (soon) and such. From "football" (which really means "chase me, chase me") and hide and go seek in the back yard to "lady luncheons" and girly movies to cuddle time with infants in arms all within the same week even.
I am so grateful for so many blessings. I am grateful for even those very difficult times which God turns into blessings.
After a tough patch - which, if you have been reading this blog, you know about - 2012 started bringing in some rather pronounced blessings.
Even while the difficult period still lingered, my younger son got married early in the year. My dear husband and I took a long awaited and much needed vacation out West (which was a blast!) My beautiful, precious granddaughter was born. She carries as her middle name my mother's name, which lends an additional sweetness to her arrival to we three sisters. We took a trip up to NJ to meet her and visit the little family. Bless her then little colicky heart! Alleluia she is not plagued with colic any more! My older son got married. That brought us as well a 4 year old grandson. So funny - 4 is quite an age. Oh - did I mention that both my daughters-in-law are lovely women. Not just outside, INSIDE. My sons seem settled and happy. This year it continues. Troy, Elisa, and Annachiara came for a visit. My newest grandson was born a week ago.
Annachiara -- now just shy of 8 months old. She seems like a happy little baby girl, prone to giggling and shining brightly out of her sweet little face. Her sweet little dimpled face. Oooh - mama and papa - watch out for those little mischief dimples.
Tristan - 4 years old and full of curiosity and, as my mom used to say, "pus and vinegar". He has excellent communication skills, and a sweet nature. He is, of course, 4 years old which also means he will try you to the maximum extent of his persuasive skills and charm. Ah, well do I remember having to chastise my own two and then leaving the room to laugh so as NOT to okay unacceptable behavior. They are so funny at 4.
Luca - So tiny and dear, this little guy who has his daddy's miniaturized face - and worried look. Wow - a week old today!
I also have two granddaughters in waiting. My dear husband's oldest daughter is planning on wedding soon enough (or not soon enough) and will bring me a 12 year old and a 10 year old as granddaughters - Angelina and Makinzie. We are starting to get to know them a bit at a time and I can not help but reflect how amusing it is that all ages and stages are covered sort of at once. That is, from diapers to ballet recitals (soon) and such. From "football" (which really means "chase me, chase me") and hide and go seek in the back yard to "lady luncheons" and girly movies to cuddle time with infants in arms all within the same week even.
I am so grateful for so many blessings. I am grateful for even those very difficult times which God turns into blessings.
Monday, February 4, 2013
A Tale of Cherry Pie And Other Luscious Treats
A number of years ago I had decided to make a cherry pie for dessert.
I had the oven pre-heated, the rest of the meal was in the works, the crusts rolled out and ready to be used.
As you may know, it requires TWO cans of cherry pie filling to make a cherry pie. I opened one can and poured it into the waiting pie crust. I took the plastic lid off of the other can so I could pop it open for use only to discover it somehow had an imperfection in its closing and the filling had started leaking out by the pop top ring and there was green mold growing on it.
Dang.
I was far enough along in the process to not have time to stop everything, go to the store, buy another can and get back home in time for this pie to be ready for eating that evening. There were no other pie fillings in the house. Doggone it...
Oh, wait! I did have something else I could use to fill it out and make a full pie.
So I opened up the jar and put some in the cherry pie filling, lovingly placed the top crust on and baked it - hoping for the best.
I did not mention to anyone what I had done and I really should tell you that I am laughing out loud thinking of this misadventure right now, making it a little tricky to type!
So the pie bakes up in its own lovely pie-ness (new word) and cools for consumption.
We eat our meal which I can not begin to tell you what we had to eat for the meal. This cherry pie story completely overwhelms the rest of the meal.
I bring the pie out and cut and serve it. The hubby (Ruben) and both sons, Dante and Troy are looking forward to dessert with great appetite. We just don't have dessert every night and this is a treat.
Troy plows in to his pie (he's maybe 15 or 16 here), chews thoughtfully and asks me "What kind of pie is this?"
"It's cherry pie." I respond with a straight face and in a serious tone.
He takes another bite, chews it and is obviously trying to figure out what IS that other flavor in there? "Cherry and what else?" he finally asks.
Okay I have to admit that at this point keeping a straight face is pretty much out of the question as he has a look on his face that screams a belief he is somehow being duped.
I start laughing as I say "Mincemeat." My explanation as to my resorting to mincemeat is so ignored. I like mincemeat, personally. My sons - oh not so much.
Roll forward these several years. Cherry - mincemeat pie is NOT forgotten. I receive many reminders from my sons over the years and we actually all laugh about it. So on Friday (2/1/2013) I get on SKYPE with Troy and he starts relating a story to me.
His opening commentary is "Well, I have a story to top the cherry-mincemeat pie, mom. That was really mean by the way."
It was NOT mean - you just read my explanation!!
Troy continued. "I made us lunch today. We had some gnocchi, I made a salad for the lady (as he frequently refers to my lovely daughter-in-law) and we were both in the mood for some dessert. So I go into the kitchen, cut this chocolate in half to share it equally, and I take a bite out of mine." He holds up the two pieces and you can clearly see there is a bite out of part of it.
"Then I think, hmm. This is not chocolate. Oh - it's soap!"
When we had gone on our vacation out West last year I had run across the cutest little white bear shaped soaps at Yellowstone and I bought two Buffalo shaped soaps for Dante and Troy as well. I had put them aside as little stocking-stuffers for them.
Troy CLAIMED that these several hours later his tongue was still numb from the bite of soap. Come on - have you ever in your life seen chocolate wrapped in ONLY cellophane with no label on it? Food always has some label on it.
I guess this will also go down with the charcoal cookies I bake all of the time. STOP!! I am actually a good cook. ONE SINGLE time I put cookies back in the oven for just one minute more and completely forgot about them. They did look like charcoal when I remembered. But that was one single time!!!
Family. Let's share those good times.
Remember to check for your food labels!
I had the oven pre-heated, the rest of the meal was in the works, the crusts rolled out and ready to be used.
As you may know, it requires TWO cans of cherry pie filling to make a cherry pie. I opened one can and poured it into the waiting pie crust. I took the plastic lid off of the other can so I could pop it open for use only to discover it somehow had an imperfection in its closing and the filling had started leaking out by the pop top ring and there was green mold growing on it.
Dang.
I was far enough along in the process to not have time to stop everything, go to the store, buy another can and get back home in time for this pie to be ready for eating that evening. There were no other pie fillings in the house. Doggone it...
Oh, wait! I did have something else I could use to fill it out and make a full pie.
So I opened up the jar and put some in the cherry pie filling, lovingly placed the top crust on and baked it - hoping for the best.
I did not mention to anyone what I had done and I really should tell you that I am laughing out loud thinking of this misadventure right now, making it a little tricky to type!
So the pie bakes up in its own lovely pie-ness (new word) and cools for consumption.
We eat our meal which I can not begin to tell you what we had to eat for the meal. This cherry pie story completely overwhelms the rest of the meal.
I bring the pie out and cut and serve it. The hubby (Ruben) and both sons, Dante and Troy are looking forward to dessert with great appetite. We just don't have dessert every night and this is a treat.
Troy plows in to his pie (he's maybe 15 or 16 here), chews thoughtfully and asks me "What kind of pie is this?"
"It's cherry pie." I respond with a straight face and in a serious tone.
He takes another bite, chews it and is obviously trying to figure out what IS that other flavor in there? "Cherry and what else?" he finally asks.
Okay I have to admit that at this point keeping a straight face is pretty much out of the question as he has a look on his face that screams a belief he is somehow being duped.
I start laughing as I say "Mincemeat." My explanation as to my resorting to mincemeat is so ignored. I like mincemeat, personally. My sons - oh not so much.
Roll forward these several years. Cherry - mincemeat pie is NOT forgotten. I receive many reminders from my sons over the years and we actually all laugh about it. So on Friday (2/1/2013) I get on SKYPE with Troy and he starts relating a story to me.
His opening commentary is "Well, I have a story to top the cherry-mincemeat pie, mom. That was really mean by the way."
It was NOT mean - you just read my explanation!!
Troy continued. "I made us lunch today. We had some gnocchi, I made a salad for the lady (as he frequently refers to my lovely daughter-in-law) and we were both in the mood for some dessert. So I go into the kitchen, cut this chocolate in half to share it equally, and I take a bite out of mine." He holds up the two pieces and you can clearly see there is a bite out of part of it.
"Then I think, hmm. This is not chocolate. Oh - it's soap!"
When we had gone on our vacation out West last year I had run across the cutest little white bear shaped soaps at Yellowstone and I bought two Buffalo shaped soaps for Dante and Troy as well. I had put them aside as little stocking-stuffers for them.
Troy CLAIMED that these several hours later his tongue was still numb from the bite of soap. Come on - have you ever in your life seen chocolate wrapped in ONLY cellophane with no label on it? Food always has some label on it.
I guess this will also go down with the charcoal cookies I bake all of the time. STOP!! I am actually a good cook. ONE SINGLE time I put cookies back in the oven for just one minute more and completely forgot about them. They did look like charcoal when I remembered. But that was one single time!!!
Family. Let's share those good times.
Remember to check for your food labels!
Thursday, November 1, 2012
The Beauteous One
Well, I just have the most beautiful little granddaughter in the history of the world!
I've been gone for a while because I went to visit my younger son and his lovely wife and to meet our delightful granddaughter!
Annachiara - now there is a lovely name.
Bless her little sweet self, she is colicky. I know I was SUPER lucky in my babies. My older son, Dante, had colic for one day - the whole livelong day I held him, patted his little back to burp him and comfort him. He was breast fed and I don't remember what it was I had eaten that bothered him (well, it was 32 years ago!), but I did not eat it again! Troy, my new daddy son, never had it.
And now, this little, beautiful girl has colic something fierce! She is inconsolable and exhausts herself with her crying.
Sometimes babies just get colic and there is not necessarily a reason for it that can be determined. It does pass and I hope that will come soon for the sake of all three of them!
They live in Princeton, NJ. It was a two day drive to get there and was very much worth the drive to see the beautiful autumn leaves and to meet our new little princess!
They are under the threat of Hurricane Sandy right now and my prayers are for their safety.
Okay, I obviously started this post and didn't publish it BEFORE Sandy struck.
As of now I have heard from my son only via text. He is in the New Jersey National Guard and is doing National Guard "stuff" to assist those in need as of Monday past.
I am hoping all is well up there and the beauteous Elisa, Annachiara and my sweet son are all safe and well!
I've been gone for a while because I went to visit my younger son and his lovely wife and to meet our delightful granddaughter!
Annachiara - now there is a lovely name.
Bless her little sweet self, she is colicky. I know I was SUPER lucky in my babies. My older son, Dante, had colic for one day - the whole livelong day I held him, patted his little back to burp him and comfort him. He was breast fed and I don't remember what it was I had eaten that bothered him (well, it was 32 years ago!), but I did not eat it again! Troy, my new daddy son, never had it.
And now, this little, beautiful girl has colic something fierce! She is inconsolable and exhausts herself with her crying.
Sometimes babies just get colic and there is not necessarily a reason for it that can be determined. It does pass and I hope that will come soon for the sake of all three of them!
They live in Princeton, NJ. It was a two day drive to get there and was very much worth the drive to see the beautiful autumn leaves and to meet our new little princess!
They are under the threat of Hurricane Sandy right now and my prayers are for their safety.
Okay, I obviously started this post and didn't publish it BEFORE Sandy struck.
As of now I have heard from my son only via text. He is in the New Jersey National Guard and is doing National Guard "stuff" to assist those in need as of Monday past.
I am hoping all is well up there and the beauteous Elisa, Annachiara and my sweet son are all safe and well!
Thursday, October 11, 2012
Everything Has a Cost
Everything has a cost. Everything.
Several years ago a friend of mine - Jean Fonvielle, whom I have not seen in years and for whom I hold kind thoughts - was working at Gayfer's. Somehow her conversation with someone working there got around to she believed you never get something for nothing. The individual in question did not want her to think that and gave her a gemstone which Jean subsequently had mounted in a ring. Thus she got something for nothing, no strings attached.
But she really didn't, did she? It didn't cost her any money for the gemstone. The person who gave it to her bore that cost. She had to have it mounted, for which she had to pay. There were no strings attached to the gift of the stone, but there WERE costs attached. She only paid some of the costs.
To breathe in, you have to breathe out. See what I'm saying?
I have been blessed with a spirit of joy.
I KNOW it is a blessing. It is a gift of which I was long unaware.
So many times we walk through life completely oblivious to any and everything around us. We bury ourselves in our own limited and momentary perspective and are blind to what is right there in front of us, right there within us, right there surrounding us, upholding us, blessing us.
We sink in to our own despair and think there is nothing else. We believe that we are alone, abandoned, helpless. We believe that there is nothing more, nothing else, nothing. Nothing.
Oh, it is not the truth.
Look - I have been that sad, broken, lonely, depressed person. I have felt sure I was on my own with no help, no support, no where to turn.
That is illusion.
That is a lie from the depths of hell.
Some of you may not believe in God. Some of you may not believe in a higher power. We can be tainted by misused religion. That is a poison. It, too, comes from the pit.
What I have called my "Black Hole Year" - which is actually longer than a year - was in many ways the most difficult of my life.
It was the hardest thing I've ever done. It was scary, and I cannot adequately relate to you how much anxiety and stress wrapped themselves up in the experience so as to weave their insidious ways throughout my life.
I do believe that the cost of the spirit of joy was the depression, the sadness, the negatives.
The spirit of joy was there ALL THE TIME, but I did not know it. I could not see it. I could not feel it. I could not conceive of it.
This is true because I was allowing myself to feel and see and perceive only the darkness, the sorrow, the weight of the world and its worries.
But you see, the "black hole year", while it was difficult, came to me after I had awakened to the realization that joy was all around me, completely filling me, drowning me in its ebullience, surrounding me and uplifting me - ALWAYS.
I had chosen in my human weakness, my fearfulness and worry to see only the weakness, the fear, the anxiety when all along there was sunshine too.
How many times have you heard that it is all about attitude? Well - hello - it is ALL about attitude!
I very clearly see the unbearable sorrow that is in the world. I know it is there and that I will taste from that bitter cup again many times in my life. Nonetheless I also know that I channel joy and peace and beauty. I guard myself from that weight - I will not watch movies that cause me anxiety, nor read books nor allow people around me that cause me to come under the influence of that which is not good.
I am kind of a Pollyanna, I have discovered. Oh look at that pitcher half full, that silver lining in those gray clouds, those flowers just waiting to bloom forth, the song ready to burst out from the very earth itself!
I have further discovered that it is a wonderful thing to be that way.
I know that God is. I know that He holds me and has always done. I know that he designed and created me for His glory and purpose and to be a light in the darkness.
Everything has a cost. And many times that cost is completely worth it.
Several years ago a friend of mine - Jean Fonvielle, whom I have not seen in years and for whom I hold kind thoughts - was working at Gayfer's. Somehow her conversation with someone working there got around to she believed you never get something for nothing. The individual in question did not want her to think that and gave her a gemstone which Jean subsequently had mounted in a ring. Thus she got something for nothing, no strings attached.
But she really didn't, did she? It didn't cost her any money for the gemstone. The person who gave it to her bore that cost. She had to have it mounted, for which she had to pay. There were no strings attached to the gift of the stone, but there WERE costs attached. She only paid some of the costs.
To breathe in, you have to breathe out. See what I'm saying?
I have been blessed with a spirit of joy.
I KNOW it is a blessing. It is a gift of which I was long unaware.
So many times we walk through life completely oblivious to any and everything around us. We bury ourselves in our own limited and momentary perspective and are blind to what is right there in front of us, right there within us, right there surrounding us, upholding us, blessing us.
We sink in to our own despair and think there is nothing else. We believe that we are alone, abandoned, helpless. We believe that there is nothing more, nothing else, nothing. Nothing.
Oh, it is not the truth.
Look - I have been that sad, broken, lonely, depressed person. I have felt sure I was on my own with no help, no support, no where to turn.
That is illusion.
That is a lie from the depths of hell.
Some of you may not believe in God. Some of you may not believe in a higher power. We can be tainted by misused religion. That is a poison. It, too, comes from the pit.
What I have called my "Black Hole Year" - which is actually longer than a year - was in many ways the most difficult of my life.
It was the hardest thing I've ever done. It was scary, and I cannot adequately relate to you how much anxiety and stress wrapped themselves up in the experience so as to weave their insidious ways throughout my life.
I do believe that the cost of the spirit of joy was the depression, the sadness, the negatives.
The spirit of joy was there ALL THE TIME, but I did not know it. I could not see it. I could not feel it. I could not conceive of it.
This is true because I was allowing myself to feel and see and perceive only the darkness, the sorrow, the weight of the world and its worries.
But you see, the "black hole year", while it was difficult, came to me after I had awakened to the realization that joy was all around me, completely filling me, drowning me in its ebullience, surrounding me and uplifting me - ALWAYS.
I had chosen in my human weakness, my fearfulness and worry to see only the weakness, the fear, the anxiety when all along there was sunshine too.
How many times have you heard that it is all about attitude? Well - hello - it is ALL about attitude!
I very clearly see the unbearable sorrow that is in the world. I know it is there and that I will taste from that bitter cup again many times in my life. Nonetheless I also know that I channel joy and peace and beauty. I guard myself from that weight - I will not watch movies that cause me anxiety, nor read books nor allow people around me that cause me to come under the influence of that which is not good.
I am kind of a Pollyanna, I have discovered. Oh look at that pitcher half full, that silver lining in those gray clouds, those flowers just waiting to bloom forth, the song ready to burst out from the very earth itself!
I have further discovered that it is a wonderful thing to be that way.
I know that God is. I know that He holds me and has always done. I know that he designed and created me for His glory and purpose and to be a light in the darkness.
Everything has a cost. And many times that cost is completely worth it.
Wednesday, September 26, 2012
been a while...
I ran across the following video and wanted to share it. I grabbed it and then I couldn't figure out how to post it with my comments so I posted and am NOW commenting.
"The Hurt & The Healer" - what a great title. I wanted to share because this is such a beautiful song and it very much encapsulates some of my experience over what I call my "black hole" year. Okay it's more than a year, but then wouldn't a black hole literally ignore time as well as matter in its' devouring of both?
So I ask you to listen, read the lyrics if you are more visual than auditory and understand, please, that I feel so very blessed and so amazingly, astoundingly WONDERFUL!
If I could shine my light of love out to you all in the manner it feels inside of me it might just blind you.
In a good way...
"The Hurt & The Healer" - what a great title. I wanted to share because this is such a beautiful song and it very much encapsulates some of my experience over what I call my "black hole" year. Okay it's more than a year, but then wouldn't a black hole literally ignore time as well as matter in its' devouring of both?
So I ask you to listen, read the lyrics if you are more visual than auditory and understand, please, that I feel so very blessed and so amazingly, astoundingly WONDERFUL!
If I could shine my light of love out to you all in the manner it feels inside of me it might just blind you.
In a good way...
Saturday, September 1, 2012
So call me Mimi
My "baby" is a daddy!
This precious little person has come into the world - a bit earlier than expected, yet she is a good sized little girl who holds the promise of tomorrow in her tiny little hands, the beauty of life itself beats in her wee heart. She is beautiful and precious.
Annachiara; light of grace. Her middle name is my mother's. Mind you, when I discussed the meaning of her name with "daddy", he had to argue with me that it meant "grace light" -- he loves to argue. Let me rephrase that --- he L-O-V-E-S to argue. So think what you like, son of mine; 'Light of grace' has a nicer poetry to it than 'grace light' does. Regardless, she has brought the light of grace with her into this world.
Many blessings to my son and sweet Elisa, my daughter (in-law) and the little one.
This precious little person has come into the world - a bit earlier than expected, yet she is a good sized little girl who holds the promise of tomorrow in her tiny little hands, the beauty of life itself beats in her wee heart. She is beautiful and precious.
Annachiara; light of grace. Her middle name is my mother's. Mind you, when I discussed the meaning of her name with "daddy", he had to argue with me that it meant "grace light" -- he loves to argue. Let me rephrase that --- he L-O-V-E-S to argue. So think what you like, son of mine; 'Light of grace' has a nicer poetry to it than 'grace light' does. Regardless, she has brought the light of grace with her into this world.
Many blessings to my son and sweet Elisa, my daughter (in-law) and the little one.
Thursday, August 9, 2012
Oops - A Diatribe.
"Save the Ta-Tas" -- you've seen this bumper sticker, I'm sure.
"Making Strides Against Breast Cancer" - walking to fund raise while wearing bedazzled, be-feathered, be-sparkled bras as your outerwear and "symbol" of your anti-breast cancer support and mindset.
'You can be registered to win a tailgate package (of the team of your choice!) by registering your team to walk!'
Battle of the Bling MSABC (That is Making Strides Against Breast Cancer) kickoff party! - Put on your pink bra!
Cupcakes for the Cure! Tangerine Ta-Tas! Java Jugs! Honeynut Hooters! Coconut Milkshakes! Mango Melons!
Let's have FUN "fighting" breast cancer!
Please. (Detect extreme sarcasm there.)
Is that all I am? A pair of boobies? Going by that standard I no longer exist because I don't have them anymore - at all!
I am not a body part. They were a part of my body.
Cancer - of any type, any stage, at any and at ALL times - is NOT fun.
Oh- maybe my attitude is off!
We all should have our bodies mutilated together, because regardless of what procedure you have done, you feel mutilated. Then we will all take deadly toxins into our bodies together - OOOH!!! Come on people, we'll have a blast together! We can do this! Hey - don't forget to bring your insurance card, if you have one! Otherwise bring money, lots of money. Let's have a commode hugging party! Decorate your commode with sequins, feathers, balloons and such! Come on down folks and we'll vomit ourselves silly! Won't that be FUN?!! Hey, everybody - bring your clippers (appropriately bedazzled, pink, feathered and if you could make them play a jolly tune that would be SO great!!) and we'll all shave our heads together because that is how every woman wants to look!! And don't forget to shave eyebrows, eyelashes, nostrils, etc. If it is hair - it must GO!! Let's increase our risk of getting more cancer by having radiation too!
Doesn't this sound like fun to you? No? Really?
Then there must be something wrong with you because this is just a lighthearted way to cure cancer!! It's just a fun way to support our friends, wives, sisters, neighbors or maybe somebody's next door neighbor's cousin's friend's sister. What is wrong with you? Have a booby shaped decorated cupcake that I bought to support breast cancer patients that a small portion of the cost will eventually go to a breast cancer site - or maybe it will.
Every year - EVERY year - 40,000 women in the United States alone die from breast cancer.
Hmm. That didn't make me laugh. That didn't amuse me. That did not make me have any fun at all.
Perhaps if I gave some money to an institution that will give money to Planned Parenthood that will help find a cure for Breast Cancer. Wait a minute. I don't think that paying for abortions will help fight cancer.
Killing the unborn neither prevents nor cures cancer. It simply and horribly kills the unborn.
Running around having FUN wearing bright pink fancied bras as outer wear doesn't do much for it either. At least that doesn't kill any one. If, as a breast cancer warrior-goddess, you find it amusing or whatever and you don't mind the whole ta-tas thing - well go for it. YOU certainly have earned that right and privilege.
I simply find the sexualization of breast cancer and thereby we survivors patently offensive.
I'm tired of the battle. I can't afford to be tired of the battle.
Look, MY battle is Stage 3A Invasive Ductal Carcinoma, Estrogen Receptor Positive, Progesterone Receptor Positive, HER2/neu Receptor Positive, lymph node involved (9 out of 12 removed were involved), bilateral mastectomy, Taxotere - Carboplatin - Herceptin chemo (oh yeah, the Herceptin was a whole year), 35 rounds of radiation battle. Any cancer that I get for the rest of my life will be considered a breast cancer metastasis.
Breast cancer loves to go to the skin. Breast cancer loves to go to the bone. HER2/neu positive breast cancer loves to go to the brain. Oh good.
Is it possible I will have a recurrence anywhere? Yes, it is. Is it possible I may never again have any cancer? Yes, it is.
I have received many blessings during this battle and I would not wish them away. Nor would I wish this battle on anyone -- ANYONE!
My money for cancer cure will go to The Mary Kay Foundation. They fund ONLY against domestic violence and for research into the cure and prevention of cancer that primarily affects women. Look them up at www.marykayfoundation.org.
Just please - stop trying to "make it fun" or to sexualize this mess to me. The majority of people in America, those lucky many, don't "get" cancer - psychologically as well as they don't get the disease itself. Well God Bless them. Count yourselves as blessed if you have no personal experience there.
Let those of us who have been down this road be the ones who have advice for the trip.
"Making Strides Against Breast Cancer" - walking to fund raise while wearing bedazzled, be-feathered, be-sparkled bras as your outerwear and "symbol" of your anti-breast cancer support and mindset.
'You can be registered to win a tailgate package (of the team of your choice!) by registering your team to walk!'
Battle of the Bling MSABC (That is Making Strides Against Breast Cancer) kickoff party! - Put on your pink bra!
Cupcakes for the Cure! Tangerine Ta-Tas! Java Jugs! Honeynut Hooters! Coconut Milkshakes! Mango Melons!
Let's have FUN "fighting" breast cancer!
Please. (Detect extreme sarcasm there.)
Is that all I am? A pair of boobies? Going by that standard I no longer exist because I don't have them anymore - at all!
I am not a body part. They were a part of my body.
Cancer - of any type, any stage, at any and at ALL times - is NOT fun.
Oh- maybe my attitude is off!
We all should have our bodies mutilated together, because regardless of what procedure you have done, you feel mutilated. Then we will all take deadly toxins into our bodies together - OOOH!!! Come on people, we'll have a blast together! We can do this! Hey - don't forget to bring your insurance card, if you have one! Otherwise bring money, lots of money. Let's have a commode hugging party! Decorate your commode with sequins, feathers, balloons and such! Come on down folks and we'll vomit ourselves silly! Won't that be FUN?!! Hey, everybody - bring your clippers (appropriately bedazzled, pink, feathered and if you could make them play a jolly tune that would be SO great!!) and we'll all shave our heads together because that is how every woman wants to look!! And don't forget to shave eyebrows, eyelashes, nostrils, etc. If it is hair - it must GO!! Let's increase our risk of getting more cancer by having radiation too!
Doesn't this sound like fun to you? No? Really?
Then there must be something wrong with you because this is just a lighthearted way to cure cancer!! It's just a fun way to support our friends, wives, sisters, neighbors or maybe somebody's next door neighbor's cousin's friend's sister. What is wrong with you? Have a booby shaped decorated cupcake that I bought to support breast cancer patients that a small portion of the cost will eventually go to a breast cancer site - or maybe it will.
Every year - EVERY year - 40,000 women in the United States alone die from breast cancer.
Hmm. That didn't make me laugh. That didn't amuse me. That did not make me have any fun at all.
Perhaps if I gave some money to an institution that will give money to Planned Parenthood that will help find a cure for Breast Cancer. Wait a minute. I don't think that paying for abortions will help fight cancer.
Killing the unborn neither prevents nor cures cancer. It simply and horribly kills the unborn.
Running around having FUN wearing bright pink fancied bras as outer wear doesn't do much for it either. At least that doesn't kill any one. If, as a breast cancer warrior-goddess, you find it amusing or whatever and you don't mind the whole ta-tas thing - well go for it. YOU certainly have earned that right and privilege.
I simply find the sexualization of breast cancer and thereby we survivors patently offensive.
I'm tired of the battle. I can't afford to be tired of the battle.
Look, MY battle is Stage 3A Invasive Ductal Carcinoma, Estrogen Receptor Positive, Progesterone Receptor Positive, HER2/neu Receptor Positive, lymph node involved (9 out of 12 removed were involved), bilateral mastectomy, Taxotere - Carboplatin - Herceptin chemo (oh yeah, the Herceptin was a whole year), 35 rounds of radiation battle. Any cancer that I get for the rest of my life will be considered a breast cancer metastasis.
Breast cancer loves to go to the skin. Breast cancer loves to go to the bone. HER2/neu positive breast cancer loves to go to the brain. Oh good.
Is it possible I will have a recurrence anywhere? Yes, it is. Is it possible I may never again have any cancer? Yes, it is.
I have received many blessings during this battle and I would not wish them away. Nor would I wish this battle on anyone -- ANYONE!
My money for cancer cure will go to The Mary Kay Foundation. They fund ONLY against domestic violence and for research into the cure and prevention of cancer that primarily affects women. Look them up at www.marykayfoundation.org.
Just please - stop trying to "make it fun" or to sexualize this mess to me. The majority of people in America, those lucky many, don't "get" cancer - psychologically as well as they don't get the disease itself. Well God Bless them. Count yourselves as blessed if you have no personal experience there.
Let those of us who have been down this road be the ones who have advice for the trip.
Tuesday, August 7, 2012
They Really Should "Talk American"
So -
I had the requested MUGA on Friday August 3 and my postponed 3 month check with my doctor yesterday, August 6th.
MUGA results being more accurate, my ejection fraction has increased wonderfully to 55%. This is quite, quite good. A normal ejection fraction is 50% or higher. I had originally typed "rejection fraction" which kind of makes me laugh here. What is that - how many times you can tolerate rejection in life? One had best hope for a VERY HIGH number there!!
We went over my PET/CT results. They were not bad. So saying they had a couple of minor anomalies which are most likely nothing of any real significance.
The wonderful Dr. Rassam does want me to have another PET/CT scan because I have a -- and I quote --"small hypermetabolic focus superficial to the right lateral sixth rib. This is new and of uncertain significance."
Reading the report is why I titled this post rather tongue in cheek. I do speak English -American English- pretty well. I know it is not "talk American' and thus the joke of the title... Do I have to explain the humor right out of a humorous situation? Actually, I know that I do for some people! I am amused so too bad for the rest of you....
Additionally on the report is Impression 2. "Peripherally calcified adnexal lesion likely representing a calcified hemorrhagic cyst." and 3."Cardiomegaly."
Oh dear - doesn't that sound just horrible? However - it is medical speak for mostly negligible things. The item 2 is likely an ovarian cyst which has burst (bled) and calcified and is not likely anything. Item 3 which was in the more detailed section of the report listed as borderline means a borderline (and therefore SLIGHTLY) enlarged heart.
Well, it is not a good thing to have an enlarged heart as it likely indicated for one thing hypertension, aka high blood pressure. I am quick to assure you my blood pressure is always, always good. When I was so hugely pregnant (many, many years ago) that I looked and felt like I would pop at any moment like a balloon and fly off into the outer atmosphere - my blood pressure even then, was always good.
So of these 3 things mentioned, which are all pretty much negligible and likely unimportant, the "new and uncertain significance" deal on the right 6th rib is of minor potential concern. My tumors were on the right, it really has appeared as though all cancer has been obliterated, and so saying - it's just a little weird. It appears to be muscular and therefore NOT skeletal (breast cancer loves to go to bones), and could have something to do with radiation.
Regardless, a PET scan will be done again to make sure all is well.
My dear husband asked me if I am worried about this. I really must say I am not. First of all, there is not a single thing I can do about it. I am taking good care of myself, which includes taking good care of my attitude, and I really do feel so absolutely marvelous. Secondly, I trust my Oncology team and oh, go on down the hardest road -- should some horrible horrible cancer word decide to worm its way back into my life - I know I will be graced once again with blessings to surround me.
Life is so beautiful, and I am looking forward with great anticipation to the birth of my first little granddaughter Annachiara. (What a great coming attraction!)
I had the requested MUGA on Friday August 3 and my postponed 3 month check with my doctor yesterday, August 6th.
MUGA results being more accurate, my ejection fraction has increased wonderfully to 55%. This is quite, quite good. A normal ejection fraction is 50% or higher. I had originally typed "rejection fraction" which kind of makes me laugh here. What is that - how many times you can tolerate rejection in life? One had best hope for a VERY HIGH number there!!
We went over my PET/CT results. They were not bad. So saying they had a couple of minor anomalies which are most likely nothing of any real significance.
The wonderful Dr. Rassam does want me to have another PET/CT scan because I have a -- and I quote --"small hypermetabolic focus superficial to the right lateral sixth rib. This is new and of uncertain significance."
Reading the report is why I titled this post rather tongue in cheek. I do speak English -American English- pretty well. I know it is not "talk American' and thus the joke of the title... Do I have to explain the humor right out of a humorous situation? Actually, I know that I do for some people! I am amused so too bad for the rest of you....
Additionally on the report is Impression 2. "Peripherally calcified adnexal lesion likely representing a calcified hemorrhagic cyst." and 3."Cardiomegaly."
Oh dear - doesn't that sound just horrible? However - it is medical speak for mostly negligible things. The item 2 is likely an ovarian cyst which has burst (bled) and calcified and is not likely anything. Item 3 which was in the more detailed section of the report listed as borderline means a borderline (and therefore SLIGHTLY) enlarged heart.
Well, it is not a good thing to have an enlarged heart as it likely indicated for one thing hypertension, aka high blood pressure. I am quick to assure you my blood pressure is always, always good. When I was so hugely pregnant (many, many years ago) that I looked and felt like I would pop at any moment like a balloon and fly off into the outer atmosphere - my blood pressure even then, was always good.
So of these 3 things mentioned, which are all pretty much negligible and likely unimportant, the "new and uncertain significance" deal on the right 6th rib is of minor potential concern. My tumors were on the right, it really has appeared as though all cancer has been obliterated, and so saying - it's just a little weird. It appears to be muscular and therefore NOT skeletal (breast cancer loves to go to bones), and could have something to do with radiation.
Regardless, a PET scan will be done again to make sure all is well.
My dear husband asked me if I am worried about this. I really must say I am not. First of all, there is not a single thing I can do about it. I am taking good care of myself, which includes taking good care of my attitude, and I really do feel so absolutely marvelous. Secondly, I trust my Oncology team and oh, go on down the hardest road -- should some horrible horrible cancer word decide to worm its way back into my life - I know I will be graced once again with blessings to surround me.
Life is so beautiful, and I am looking forward with great anticipation to the birth of my first little granddaughter Annachiara. (What a great coming attraction!)
Saturday, July 28, 2012
well, that's not too good...
Yes, all lower case for the Post title...
My oncologist had wanted me to have a MUGA after finishing my year of Herceptin infusions. My insurance didn't want to pay for one as they deemed it potentially unnecessary. In fairness to them - had it been out of my own pocket I would have said the same thing. It is a negotiated rate of $688 per MUGA!! (That is Multiple Gated Acquisition Scan, a nuclear medicine exam.)
So, instead I had an echocardiogram. I must say, that was a pretty cool test. It hurt because of the hypersensitivity issue I have, but the woman who administered it was very kind and tried her best to be gentle. An echocardiogram is kind of an ultrasound of the heart, if you will. So I watched on the screen as my heart beat its lovely way through the exam. The examiner commented (as we chatted) that it looked kind of low as it measured my ejection fraction, but the Doctor would be able to determine accurately and report to my oncologist.
So yesterday morning my sweet Pamela from TCI (my oncologist's office) called to let me know there was a MUGA scheduled.
What? That pretty much was my response, btw. What? A MUGA? And insurance approved this?
Yes, was the answer to the above. So now instead of seeing Dr. Rassam for my first 3 month follow up on Monday, I will not see him until the following Monday as I have been scheduled for the muga on Friday August 3rd.
Hmm.
Herceptin can cause damage to the heart muscle, and obviously, it HAS done. This is reversible, and I expect a positive result of healing.
I feel great! Of course, I really have an altered and positive perspective on feeling great because I know just how bad you can feel. So I know that a bad day - is a FABULOUS day, and that feeling what some people would call bad is totally wonderful and awesome!
Regardless, I really do feel great!!! Thinking about the possibility of having some weakening to my heart right now, that would explain why I hit the wall as soon as I do. I just sort of run out of gas and need to rest. At which time -- I rest. I am doing my best to eat right, drink enough, rest enough, exercise enough, etc. What else can one do?
So I will just have to be a little patient and I leave this all in God's hands.
He has my back....
My oncologist had wanted me to have a MUGA after finishing my year of Herceptin infusions. My insurance didn't want to pay for one as they deemed it potentially unnecessary. In fairness to them - had it been out of my own pocket I would have said the same thing. It is a negotiated rate of $688 per MUGA!! (That is Multiple Gated Acquisition Scan, a nuclear medicine exam.)
So, instead I had an echocardiogram. I must say, that was a pretty cool test. It hurt because of the hypersensitivity issue I have, but the woman who administered it was very kind and tried her best to be gentle. An echocardiogram is kind of an ultrasound of the heart, if you will. So I watched on the screen as my heart beat its lovely way through the exam. The examiner commented (as we chatted) that it looked kind of low as it measured my ejection fraction, but the Doctor would be able to determine accurately and report to my oncologist.
So yesterday morning my sweet Pamela from TCI (my oncologist's office) called to let me know there was a MUGA scheduled.
What? That pretty much was my response, btw. What? A MUGA? And insurance approved this?
Yes, was the answer to the above. So now instead of seeing Dr. Rassam for my first 3 month follow up on Monday, I will not see him until the following Monday as I have been scheduled for the muga on Friday August 3rd.
Hmm.
Herceptin can cause damage to the heart muscle, and obviously, it HAS done. This is reversible, and I expect a positive result of healing.
I feel great! Of course, I really have an altered and positive perspective on feeling great because I know just how bad you can feel. So I know that a bad day - is a FABULOUS day, and that feeling what some people would call bad is totally wonderful and awesome!
Regardless, I really do feel great!!! Thinking about the possibility of having some weakening to my heart right now, that would explain why I hit the wall as soon as I do. I just sort of run out of gas and need to rest. At which time -- I rest. I am doing my best to eat right, drink enough, rest enough, exercise enough, etc. What else can one do?
So I will just have to be a little patient and I leave this all in God's hands.
He has my back....
Thursday, July 12, 2012
QUICK update...
Just a little wee post to say I have, indeed, survived the surgical procedure. I have some discomfort--okay, no real feeling at all at the mastectomy site(s), but where new tissue at the sides was cut away --OOOOWWWW!!
Naturally I have also been actually expecting to get up and run a marathon but find I am easily fatigued, a bit queasy, I do remember sleeping and I also recall what it is like to feel comfortable. Well, a return to those feelings will come soon enough!
If that sounds like a complaint, please be assured I am still excited about this procedure and finding out just what an improvement this will make. I maintain a positive attitude, I am so very blessed with a loving and supportive husband, and I feel a mental outlook improvement regardless!
Naturally I have also been actually expecting to get up and run a marathon but find I am easily fatigued, a bit queasy, I do remember sleeping and I also recall what it is like to feel comfortable. Well, a return to those feelings will come soon enough!
If that sounds like a complaint, please be assured I am still excited about this procedure and finding out just what an improvement this will make. I maintain a positive attitude, I am so very blessed with a loving and supportive husband, and I feel a mental outlook improvement regardless!
Monday, July 9, 2012
And in this corner.....
Tomorrow afternoon I have a surgical procedure scheduled. This is procedure is strictly voluntary.
My sister had talked to me about it with concern that I might be anxious and unable to sleep because of it. Yes, admittedly, that has been my MO in the past during the "procedures period." I'm calling it that now. I just started doing so.
I don't feel anxious about tomorrow's main event, however. I am rather excited.
Classify this entry under "more than you probably want to know" and sort of under "more than I want you to know"!!
When you have a mastectomy, you have a certain idea in your head of what you will look like. I know this for a fact. You, dear readers, will have to take my word for it.
What you end up with, is NOT what you had in your mind. Not at all like what you had in your mind.
When I came home from the hospital last February I felt like and saw a Technicolor-3-dimensional-topographic-map-of-a-railroad-crash-nightmare-scene-from-a-horror-movie.
Tape came off, drains were removed, staples removed, swelling reduced. Now here I sit almost 17 months later.
I still FEEL much as I did about the scene of the crime. (See technicolor 3D etc.) It really does not look the same as it did post surgery, however. I look at myself and I will tell you, it is rather like I suspect a landscape would look like many months after a terrible train crash. Something happened here. Something not good.
It is the wreckage of this body.
I do my best to cover myself so that my husband doesn't see me. It is something embarrassing; unattractive where there was once beauty.
So tomorrow I go to my plastic surgeon and whatever happens will be an improvement.
I am not getting "the girls" put back in place. I just want to be smoothed out. THAT, I can live with. I can live with it and feel so much better about my physical aspect!!
My husband told me yesterday that someone at church had told me how beautiful I looked and healthy and that he was a lucky man. He told them, yes he was a lucky man.
Mind you, my dear sweet husband tells me I am beautiful. He gives me the words and he walks the walk, as it were. And he loves me, oh I know he loves me.
And yet when he tells me I am beautiful there is this little part of me who says inside "Are you insane??? Have you gone blind?? Have you seen this body?? WHAT are you finding physically attractive??? Fibber."
I don't say that aloud, and I truly love and respect my husband. But, oh that little voice....
Because I have seen the wreckage. It is all part of this gordian knot that afflicts me and I will NOT let cancer claim a victory in my private life, thank you very much!
Thus - the procedure I will have tomorrow; thus the excitement I am feeling about it.
And thus - My reclaiming that which is mine - MY body, MY mind, MY battered and bruised psyche.
I am woman, I AM a warrior princess cancer kicking survivor woman. I do own beauty. And tomorrow I start to claim it back as my own.
Round 1 went to cancer with a sucker punch. We're up to round 15 now - and I have battled and won every round. Tomorrow will be the knockout punch.
My sister had talked to me about it with concern that I might be anxious and unable to sleep because of it. Yes, admittedly, that has been my MO in the past during the "procedures period." I'm calling it that now. I just started doing so.
I don't feel anxious about tomorrow's main event, however. I am rather excited.
Classify this entry under "more than you probably want to know" and sort of under "more than I want you to know"!!
When you have a mastectomy, you have a certain idea in your head of what you will look like. I know this for a fact. You, dear readers, will have to take my word for it.
What you end up with, is NOT what you had in your mind. Not at all like what you had in your mind.
When I came home from the hospital last February I felt like and saw a Technicolor-3-dimensional-topographic-map-of-a-railroad-crash-nightmare-scene-from-a-horror-movie.
Tape came off, drains were removed, staples removed, swelling reduced. Now here I sit almost 17 months later.
I still FEEL much as I did about the scene of the crime. (See technicolor 3D etc.) It really does not look the same as it did post surgery, however. I look at myself and I will tell you, it is rather like I suspect a landscape would look like many months after a terrible train crash. Something happened here. Something not good.
It is the wreckage of this body.
I do my best to cover myself so that my husband doesn't see me. It is something embarrassing; unattractive where there was once beauty.
So tomorrow I go to my plastic surgeon and whatever happens will be an improvement.
I am not getting "the girls" put back in place. I just want to be smoothed out. THAT, I can live with. I can live with it and feel so much better about my physical aspect!!
My husband told me yesterday that someone at church had told me how beautiful I looked and healthy and that he was a lucky man. He told them, yes he was a lucky man.
Mind you, my dear sweet husband tells me I am beautiful. He gives me the words and he walks the walk, as it were. And he loves me, oh I know he loves me.
And yet when he tells me I am beautiful there is this little part of me who says inside "Are you insane??? Have you gone blind?? Have you seen this body?? WHAT are you finding physically attractive??? Fibber."
I don't say that aloud, and I truly love and respect my husband. But, oh that little voice....
Because I have seen the wreckage. It is all part of this gordian knot that afflicts me and I will NOT let cancer claim a victory in my private life, thank you very much!
Thus - the procedure I will have tomorrow; thus the excitement I am feeling about it.
And thus - My reclaiming that which is mine - MY body, MY mind, MY battered and bruised psyche.
I am woman, I AM a warrior princess cancer kicking survivor woman. I do own beauty. And tomorrow I start to claim it back as my own.
Round 1 went to cancer with a sucker punch. We're up to round 15 now - and I have battled and won every round. Tomorrow will be the knockout punch.
Thursday, July 5, 2012
I Love a Good Day Above Ground...HOW did I forget to post this???
I must add, of course, that ANY day above ground is a good day....
God's blessings on all; Happy Easter! I know today is Good Friday so the Easter greeting is a wee premature. Nonetheless, I will not be posting again prior to Easter so I reiterate - Happy Easter.
When I last saw my surgeon, Dr. Z, I had asked him for a referral to a "plastic" surgeon. I received a call and an appointment from Dr. R AND I was considering checking out going to Moffitt again.
The appointment with Dr. R was postponed for a week and every day I was going to cancel it altogether! I was actually making myself sick with anxiety about a consultation. I would waffle and flip-flop about what I was wanting to do and changing my mind every six seconds about going. I finally figured I was just not ready to do anything and perhaps psychological counseling was all that I needed.
Okay - I probably need psychological counseling for any number of reasons anyway. Don't you???
This past Monday I woke up after a rather sleepless and anxiety filled night. My husband and I went for a walk, discussed this and I decided to just cancel the appointment that was scheduled for 4 that afternoon. When I got home I had to get the referral information from my calendar and then realized that the appointment was actually at 9:30, I had missed it and had to apologize for this. In just that instant I decided I DID want to confer and in that same moment the receptionist said - we do have a cancellation at 11:45 if you could come in then.
Oh.
So suddenly I want to talk to the man, I have an appointment available AND my husband - who was not going to be able to go with me now could go with me because of the time frame.
Still, I am fraught with anxiety about the whole situation.... We have to drive in in separate vehicles as Ruben is going to work after the appointment; yet something else that was simply rearranged by the hand of God as he normally goes in to work by 8 on Mondays...
I find that I really like the doctor, he has a pleasant and reassuring manner, not condescending at all. He answers questions I didn't really know I had as well as answering the questions I did have.
My insurance will cover 100% of this, I don't have to wait until October (a year after the end of my radiation treatments) since I will not be having to expand the tissue, the surgery will be much simpler than the mastectomy surgery, simpler than any "adding back" reconstruction. In fact I can have this procedure done about 4 to 6 weeks after my final Herceptin infusion.
In case you had no idea - I just want to be 'smoothed out'...
I had "the girls" for a long time! Was this whole deal a shock? Hello... here's the big clue;
CANCER!
It will freak you out and fry your brain cells with anxiety and fear.
So saying, it will spur you to seriously take action. At least it did in my case!!
Ruben and I discussed every imaginable situation and decided (read that talked and talked and talked about) each step we would take.
I have actually enjoyed being able to grab a cute camisole and a light shirt and I am done - ready to go and if I get too warm - great! I can take off the light shirt and I'm still covered and not having those girls all over the place.
Because let's face facts - those girls were EVERYWHERE!!!
So I am nearing the end of this journey at last. Okay, correction; I am nearing the end of this part of this journey. I will have my last Herceptin infusion April 19th. Four to six weeks later I will have a procedure performed - the ONE procedure I will have - to just smooth me out.
Recovery from that procedure and then - hold the phone!! I can actually get back in step for a whole life.
God's blessings on all; Happy Easter! I know today is Good Friday so the Easter greeting is a wee premature. Nonetheless, I will not be posting again prior to Easter so I reiterate - Happy Easter.
When I last saw my surgeon, Dr. Z, I had asked him for a referral to a "plastic" surgeon. I received a call and an appointment from Dr. R AND I was considering checking out going to Moffitt again.
The appointment with Dr. R was postponed for a week and every day I was going to cancel it altogether! I was actually making myself sick with anxiety about a consultation. I would waffle and flip-flop about what I was wanting to do and changing my mind every six seconds about going. I finally figured I was just not ready to do anything and perhaps psychological counseling was all that I needed.
Okay - I probably need psychological counseling for any number of reasons anyway. Don't you???
This past Monday I woke up after a rather sleepless and anxiety filled night. My husband and I went for a walk, discussed this and I decided to just cancel the appointment that was scheduled for 4 that afternoon. When I got home I had to get the referral information from my calendar and then realized that the appointment was actually at 9:30, I had missed it and had to apologize for this. In just that instant I decided I DID want to confer and in that same moment the receptionist said - we do have a cancellation at 11:45 if you could come in then.
Oh.
So suddenly I want to talk to the man, I have an appointment available AND my husband - who was not going to be able to go with me now could go with me because of the time frame.
Still, I am fraught with anxiety about the whole situation.... We have to drive in in separate vehicles as Ruben is going to work after the appointment; yet something else that was simply rearranged by the hand of God as he normally goes in to work by 8 on Mondays...
I find that I really like the doctor, he has a pleasant and reassuring manner, not condescending at all. He answers questions I didn't really know I had as well as answering the questions I did have.
My insurance will cover 100% of this, I don't have to wait until October (a year after the end of my radiation treatments) since I will not be having to expand the tissue, the surgery will be much simpler than the mastectomy surgery, simpler than any "adding back" reconstruction. In fact I can have this procedure done about 4 to 6 weeks after my final Herceptin infusion.
In case you had no idea - I just want to be 'smoothed out'...
I had "the girls" for a long time! Was this whole deal a shock? Hello... here's the big clue;
CANCER!
It will freak you out and fry your brain cells with anxiety and fear.
So saying, it will spur you to seriously take action. At least it did in my case!!
Ruben and I discussed every imaginable situation and decided (read that talked and talked and talked about) each step we would take.
I have actually enjoyed being able to grab a cute camisole and a light shirt and I am done - ready to go and if I get too warm - great! I can take off the light shirt and I'm still covered and not having those girls all over the place.
Because let's face facts - those girls were EVERYWHERE!!!
So I am nearing the end of this journey at last. Okay, correction; I am nearing the end of this part of this journey. I will have my last Herceptin infusion April 19th. Four to six weeks later I will have a procedure performed - the ONE procedure I will have - to just smooth me out.
Recovery from that procedure and then - hold the phone!! I can actually get back in step for a whole life.
Friday, April 20, 2012
I Interrupt This (Resurrection) Story...
Just a quick post of exultation!!!
Yesterday was my last infusion! No more deadly chemicals being pumped into my body!
Oh frabjous day, callou, callay... (Hmm, on reflection - is my spelling correct there? Oh who cares? Point is made..)
I have a cat scan scheduled for April 30th, a MUGA in June with a follow up appointment with my dear onco (that is said with sincerity) where I expect to be told that I am in absolutely FABULOUS health!!
Hmm, which cat shall I scan??
Yesterday was my last infusion! No more deadly chemicals being pumped into my body!
Oh frabjous day, callou, callay... (Hmm, on reflection - is my spelling correct there? Oh who cares? Point is made..)
I have a cat scan scheduled for April 30th, a MUGA in June with a follow up appointment with my dear onco (that is said with sincerity) where I expect to be told that I am in absolutely FABULOUS health!!
Hmm, which cat shall I scan??
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