A strange turn of events

I had the second round of chemo yesterday, and went for fluids today. I will never cease to be amazed at how things happen.

Today I met a fellow breast cancer patient. The difference is that she is a young mother, about 30, with two children and is about five months pregnant. She has had fibroid breasts, and for a long time she was told is was only that. At the beginning of the year, she found it was growing.

They tested, and she ended up having a mastectomy because her tumor was 4.5cm. She had twelve involved lymph nodes. When she went to the restroom, her friend explained that she is listed as a Stage 3, but is more likely a Stage 4 because they cannot do a scan due to her pregnancy.

She has a great attitude. But it is so sad. Young women are not being screened as they should. Breast cancer is hitting these women. They have a right to yearly mammograms too.

As for my hair loss, I am one of the millions of lucky women who have experienced hair loss over the years. I really got tired of it, and I got tired of paying over $60 every six weeks to have cuts and highlights. When I would leave, my hairdresser would say that my hair looked so good. What a load of hog wash! I knew better.

So in December of 2005, I made the decision to buy a wig. I found a circular for a place where I could order on line. They had a sale. It was 2 for 1. I ordered two wigs. One was too light, but I still have it. It’s not really comfortable. Perhaps when all this hair is gone it will be better.
The other I wear almost every day. When I went to get my prosthesis, they said that they also sold wigs. I told the fitter that I was already wearing a wig. She was amazed. It is so natural looking.

Since the first purchase, I have ordered a "summer" wig. That is a necessity here is Swamp Land. I also ordered a human hair one, but I need to do a little styling of it. It’s a little too straight and limp.

I am set for the loss of my hair, and in reality because of my hair history it's not really a big deal to me. I even ordered fake eyelashes along with the human hair wig!

Take care of yourselves! I am going to rest.

What's a life worth?

Insurance, whether it be auto or health, is a real pain in the neck (or place of your choosing). A lot of insurance, like auto, you have to have. Homeowners insurance is required by the mortgage company, and you have to be lucky enough to have health insurance, but my statement still stands. It is a pain.

When I got my EOB for the pet scan, my health insurance denied it. They stated that the cost was too much and it was an experimental procedure. I thought I was looking at $4500. Several weeks later, the hospital and insurance company managed to settle on a payment. I wasn't privy to the method of calclation

Yesterday, I got the EOB for the mastectomy. There were probably twelve items listed, and each one was "Hospital incidental." They had various amounts next to them ranging from $27.50 to $18,426.56. The amount the insurance will pay, and this is listed next to each and every one, is $120.75. So that means of a bill of $30,893.45, my insurance company will pay $1,449.

I knew the hospital was out of network, but I also have coverage for that. It is 60/40. Where is that shown. It isn’t. This should be an interesting journey!

Oh - on other news, the hair is beginning to go. I first noticed just a few hairs more than normal. When I ran my fingers through it, there was lots more!

Today was chemo round two - so far so good, even though the CBC showed I am a little anemic,

The vampire

Our weekend was relatively uneventful. Nothing much happened, which is perfectly fine with me.

Today I had to go to the lab for what will be my biweekly CBC. It is in the same building with the oncologist, but today was my first visit. I think the subsequent visits are going to be - "interesting" to say ht least.

When I was called back, it was obvious that the tech wanted to use the right arm. I would have been perfectly content with that had I not been warned to not even allow blood pressure to be measured in the right arm. So I told her that I had to have the left arm used.

The needle didn’t hurt one bit. I thought these would be a breeze. I left and drove to the bank to access the ATM. When I put my hand out to put in my PIN, I looked at the inside of my elbow. The pad was fairly soaked with blood. That has never happened to me before - ever, ever!
I completed the transaction, drove home, and removed the bandage. I have a lump of blood that is about the size of a pencil eraser under the skin.

I have at least 15 more of these!

A poor post

Disclaimer!!!! This is a post full of moaning and groaning with a heavy icing of self doubt. Continue only if you wish to be completely turned off by my weakness!

With the news about Elizabeth Edwards’ reoccurrence of cancer, all the news services are finding other people who have also had reoccurrences of cancer. I know they are trying to show the courage of these people as they are valiantly continuing to fight, but for those of us who are in their first fights, it is not encouraging. They are not making the future look bright.

At this point I am struggling to remember those who have been survivors with no reoccurrence. Those are the folks I would rather hang with! Just last Friday the echo tech told me she was a nineteen year survivor. I am surrounded by these people, and yet I am hanging on the stories of reoccurrences.

I guess I will go back to the recesses of my mind where I have not truly accepted that I have breast cancer. There is still that part of me, you know. I find great comfort in sneaking back there - a lot. It’s much nicer than the truth.

It's been a while!

My life has been delightfully devoid of anything worth recording here. I feel like I have been in a state of suspended animation. That is sheer bliss these days.

Today is my usual appointment with the oncologist, where, I suppose, I will get the results of the echocardiogram I was given last Friday. The reason for the test was "poisoning by antineoplastic chemotheraphy." Sweet.

After the echo, we left to go to the SSB. G wanted to check on the barn before we paid the remaining payment on it. The builder did a good job. There had been heavy rains there since we were up last. The desert can become really beautiful after a rain. We are not really in the desert, but it is certainly a transition area. Anyway, the grass was so green!

I did nothing all weekend. It was bliss. Since the only effect of the chemo was to make me tired, that was a wonderful time. Lots of rest.

We did make a stop in San Antonio on the way home. My 86 year old MIL is going to have her other knee replaced next week. I really think dementia has grabbed her by her left ear lobe! I think she is going to have a lot of problems recovering from this surgery. She is very fragile.

Some bad news came early this morning on the news. I hope it isn’t as bad as it seems. Elizabeth Edwards has an announcement about her health. I certainly ammore sensitive to news about other breast cancer survivors. She has not been a survivor that long. She is certainly in my prayers.

Reality Check?

Nope, not for me. I realize I am happily still floating down that river in Egypt. I am still in full and complete denial which is rather amazing!

Yesterday was the first of the chemo sessions. When I got into the chair, the nurse asked if I had been through chem school. Nope - never heard of it! So I got an abbreviated version.

This came AFTER it was discovered that my port was deep. Thanks Dr Surgeon! No little stick, poke and it’s in. No it’s digging for it!

The first treatment went quite well - especially when I discovered that I don’t have to have a driver. I can take myself. That made me very happy.

Today was fluids day. When I was sitting in the waiting room, another woman was on her phone. She was talking about her impending chemo. She was in for just a check. She said she was due for chemo school on Tuesday, then beginning chemo on Thursday. She said she was relizing that she had breast cancer now.

Funny, after the mastectomy, now the chemo, it still isn’t really sinking in yet. I just feel these are thinks that are having to be done. I’m not looking at the real reason. I wonder if there will ever be a reality check?

Well, Lady Bug is going to be here in a bit. Monkey Boy is having an ENT appointment to check his hearing. His speech is a bit delayed, but with the speech therapy he is getting he is already getting better. The hearing check is not a bad idea however.

Time to put on the prostheses, and kick myself into high gear to get ready to Lady Bug!

Question

There are things we don’t want to admit about ourselves. I know there must be a million that I keep from myself. I never wanted to think I was a control freak, but when I stand back and look at myself, I guess I am!

I did control much of what my children did when they were growing up. I put that off to parenting. I guess some was, but then again I think some wasn’t.

Facing this chemo, I realize that I am a control freak. I want it to go the way I want it to go. I want the schedule to be what we have set. I have my appointments set through the end of the month, and I want them to follow that schedule. But, and thanks Leeann for you comment on the last post, I must realize that there will be changes. This is not my ball game. I don't make the rules.

One aspect of this whole chemo thing is that I have to depend on others to get me to my appointments. I don’t like that at all. I am so independent. When I want to go, I want to go. There is the glimmer of hope that I will be able to drive myself after this first one. The site is close by, so I just hope I will be able to take control of my life again.

How do you hand the reins over to someone else?

A little bit of this and a little bit of that!

What a mixture of events this weekend. It all began on Thursday when I went to Dr Surgeon to have the remaining staples removed. He, like the oncologist, wondered about antibiotics, since the incision was rather red. But he didn't prescribe anything.

That very evening, I ran a fever - 101. I know antibiotics need to be used only when needed, but come on. If the incision is red . . . So I called Dr Surgeon on Friday morning, and they told me to come in - right then! He drained about 3 syringes of fluid from the area. I think my sensitivity to the silicon tubes caused them to clog, and the fluids were trapped. Anyway, I am on antibiotics now.

The problem with that is will they continue with the chemo on Wednesday? With the time change, the oncologist office has not changed their phones from weekend mode yet. I can't reach them. Ah, another drama.

Saturday we went to get my prosthetic breast. Dr Surgeon said that the insurance might not pay for the pro thesis and the reconstruction. I went prepared to pay outright for the pro thesis. They convinced me that insurance would have to pay, so that was the way we went.

I must say, it is a different feeling that going natural, but I feel much more secure. The silk scarf, ace bandage and two socks that I had been using were certainly not as nice as this "fake boob!"

I finally got to get my eyes examined for new glasses. It will be great to be able to see again. My present glasses are two years old because I had a aneurysm in a capillary in my right eye that had to be treated with laser surgery. I waited for a while for my vision to settle down, then I got lazy. I would use the excuses of kids going back to school, so the optical division would be too busy, or they were on vacation and it would be too busy. My glasses will be ready in 7-10 working days.

I had been reading Rana. She had gotten some great glasses via the Internet. I had wanted the progressive sunglasses as well as the regular. I asked the guy how much they would be. He quoted $240. I nearly fell off of my chair. I checked with the Internet place. I ordered a pair for less than $100 on Saturday. They will be shipped in two to four days. What do you want to bet I get the sunglasses before the regular ones!

I have rambled enough for one day. It was just a very busy weekend with so many unrelated things going on. Have a good week!

Will it be fun?

Back in January, I was very cavalier about the status of my health. This was before the lumpectomy that was followed two weeks later by the mastectomy. The thought of chemo was a dim glimmer on the horizon. I was ready for a vacation.

We have the opportunity to take private rail cars to Chicago the end of April. I was ready to do it. We had hoped to take this trip earlier in the year, but it was cancelled. By the way, we are train buffs! We love to ride trains. Anyway, this trip came up. We talked to Dr Surgeon. He said it would be fine.

That was before the schedule for chemo every two weeks fell onto my life. Other than being really scared of the effects of the chemo, I am really afraid of how I will handle this trip.
I love the train and I love Chicago. Absolutely. But we board the train the day after a two day chemo treatment. How sick am I going to be? How tired am I going to be? How much of Chicago can I enjoy?

I booked the hotel room last night. We will be there for four days, and then return by Amtrak.

I so hope I am worrying without reason.

Ashamed

Sometimes, I surprise myself, and am proud of myself. But today the surprise is painfully embarrassing.

Yesterday when I was at the oncologist, an older woman and her husband came in. They signed in, and were greeted (which is unusual in itself but that’s another story) by someone at the desk.

They ascertained this was her first visit to the office. She was laden with a portable file folder and several manilla envelopes. She was asked if she had been mailed the volumes of pages that comprised the questionnaire for the office. She replied she had, then proceeded to search for it.
Naturally several of the envelopes fell to the floor. Her husband was still there with her at this time, and he picked them up. She put things into a hasty order, and they began to go over the form.

She has checked that she had advanced directives. When the clerk asked about them, she began searching through the portable file. The advanced directive was there, and she produced it. She then began looking for the Power of Attorney. It was not there.

As she became more distressed, her husband went to a couch, got a magazine, and sat down. She searched furtively stating that the original must be in the safe at her daughter’s house, but it had been filed at the courthouse.

She was becoming more and more distressed. I was amazed at the calm demeanor of the clerk. She was assuring the lady over and over that the document was not needed, just to ascertain that she did have one. The lady by this time was in complete "finding mode." She was going to find that document. She was going to stay there until that happened.

Smugly, I sat there thinking how glad I was that I had already signed in and was sitting in the waiting room!

My appointment went very long, That was mostly due to the fact that the lovely new hospital I resided in for the mastectomy does not really have their act together. Here we were ten days post op, and the report from that surgery had not been sent to the oncologist. That was the document he wanted - nothing else, and we weren’t going any further until he got it. Thank goodness for fax machines!

After my wait in the exam room of over two hours, guess who was at check out! Yep. Since she was new, they had ordered all sorts of other tests. I think she was going to have a PET done. She was so confused with all that was going on, and I guess loving husband was still on his ass in the waiting room.

I was so tired that I was a little upset that she was going to be checking out for a while. I knew from the checking in procedure. Sure enough, when she was looking over the paperwork, she came to NPO. I know her physician went over all this while she was in the exam room, but she didn’t know what that meant. They explained everything to her again. I signed internally.

Patients are beginning to pile up behind me to check out. I was not understanding - at all.
After we left, I brought this up to G. He put the proper spin on the situation. She probably has brain cancer, she was scared, and she had never had to deal with this type of thing before. We both remarked about how wonderful the staff at the oncology clinic handled the situation.

Now I am ashamed of myself. I need to be more caring about others . Cancer is a scary thing.

It's got a good beat

My dance card is going to be full for at least the next 16 weeks. I went to the oncologist today, and we set the chemotherapy schedule. I will be going every other week for the therapy.

So I went online, as all good computer savvy people are apt to do, to check on what was going to happen to my body. I was expecting the hair loss. OK, no real problemo. I was expecting nausea. Not pleasant, but then I knew chemo was not a walk in the park. Mouth sores. Now that caught my attention. I was really hoping those little devils would not be part of it. The drugs are going into the port, then into the blood. Leave the mouth alone already!

What really caught my eye was the possible kidney and bladder involvement that goes along with one of the drugs. So when I get that one, I get to go back the next day for fluids. What a deal! Two days at once!

Then I read the details of the other drug, It can damage the heart. I tell you, this cancer thing just keeps getting better. Now I know why I get to have an echo of the heart next week also.
But these things will pass. I can pretty much begin marking off the treatments from the calendar and look forward to getting back to my normal boring life. Things will be OK. I will live through it all, and I will be well. I just have some bumps in the road between now and then, but isn’t that what life is all about?

May you all have a good week!

That blasted fear decided to slip into my mind for a while today. Before my visit to the surgeon, I was petrified about having the drainage tubes removed. As for the staples - oh that was over the top!

But alas, I have a great surgeon. The tubes were not really comfortable coming out. He told me I had become sensitive to the silicon and was reacting to them. The alcohol DID sting - a lot! But they are gone. It feels so much better.

The staples were a breeze! No sensation at all. My sarcastic side sneaks up here to say - "yeah - more nerve damage, that's why!" I'm not really sure that is it, but I don't have the same longing/fear for the next appointment when the remaining staples go.

The bad news is that there was more lymph node involvement. I'm not sure if they found a total of two in twenty lymph nodes, or it was two additional ones. I am leaning toward the latter just by the demeanor of the surgeon to my daughter's questions.

That is a topic for the oncologist on Monday.

As well is the insurance company denying the $4500+ pet scan that was done before all this began.

But I am free of tubes. Free!!

I am finding it again - with your help!

Fear is probably the most insidious of the emotions we possess. It lurks in the dark recesses of our minds, growing, waiting. Fear is not alone there, however. It has its good friend, uncertainty, right there with it. Both are waiting for some small crack so they can slip their icy fingers around your heart where they bring the twins along - frustration and doubt.

Fear, doubt and uncertainty have been with me for a while. I let the fear grow. The uncomfortable body allowed it and its friends, escape into the light where they tried to take hold. And they almost succeeded. I was falling down a deep dark hole of despair. My light was dimming. I felt really low, and the self pity was rising. I was beginning to become very frustrated because I not in control. Well, I realize I cannot be in control of things now.

Then Busy Mom asked her readers to come over to give me a boost. I cannot express to you all what your comments meant to me. Thank you from the bottom of my heart. I am finding my resolve and bravado again.

And Busy Mom, I am so glad you escaped damage from the storm yesterday. I thought of you immediately when I saw the news. I am so distraught about those who lost their lives and properties in those storms

Later today, I will have half of the staples removed along with the drains (I hope since they have really stopped draining). I will carry your good thoughts with me.

Where is it?

It’s a little strange the way a week of discomfort (and downright pain), interrupted sleep, and a fever can send the bravado that I roared into this breast cancer thing to a mewling mass huddled in the corner looking for a way to escape.

I have two drainage tubes in the incision. They are stitched to my skin. When they get pulled they hurt - a lot. That has happened a lot. The first time was upon arriving home when I removed the bra. The bulbs attached to the tubes fell. I hurt.

I am a side sleeper. I can sleep on the left side, but I prefer the right. The stitches, tubes and all are on the right. I cannot turn to the right - at all. It’s especially fun when the left hip hurts.

Yesterday the trump suit was played. I awoke with a screaming headache and a low grade fever. That just about did me in. I was instructed to go to the surgeon’s office. He pronounced that I was coming down with "something." I was instructed to take his magic formula of tylenol.

So today I am picking up the pieces of whatever resolve I can find so that I can super glue them back together. I am definitely going to need them Friday when I go back to the surgeon to have every other staple removed. Ugh.

Drugs and reality

Hmmm. I am not sure how powerful pain killers and blogging mix, but they have been for a few days. I am writing directly here in blogger instead of using Word to try to make sure all mistakes are caught before the "publish" button. When I am sober again I guess I'll review these posts to see just how much I have embarrassed myself!

More seriously, I got a look at myself in the mirror the other night when I showered. The view from above is nothing compared to the full frontal look from the mirror. I couldn't believe the horrible visage there in that mirror. The scar is terrifying and nauseating. I knew it wouldn't be pretty, but I was not prepared for how bad it is.

Once again, my strength is shaken. I want to retreat to a corner, ball up and cry. There is not the strong visage I have tried to keep. I don't see how any reconstruction could ever fix what I have in place of a right breast.

Right now I am tired and scared. I cannot get a good night's sleep because there is no way I can roll to my right side. The drains are in the exact place where I would lay. They are so sore because even though I try to be very careful, there is a tug at them almost hourly. The little stitch that holds them in place hurts so much. I cannot find a way to make sure there is never any tension on them.

I am scared because I have no idea of how many little tumors have escaped and cruising around my body. I won't see the oncologist for a week. I do not know where my future is headed on that front.

All I know is that my body has been mutilated. My left chest is a mass of scars and bumps. I never thought this would be the concern that it is for me. I never thought I identified with my body like this. I thought I was above that kind of thought. I thought I believed that the body is just an imperfect vessel. I guess I just didn't want it to be this imperfect.

A little humor goes a long way

When I was to be at the hospital on Thursday, I wanted G to work as long as he needed. K was off that morning, so I asked her to take me.

Trying to get through registration was a little daunting. The woman who was trying to get me registered didn't normally work at that position. (This hospital has only been open since the first of November). She finally got me registered - of course that was later than they had said they wanted me there, but I thought that would be no problem,

Instead of going straight back to surgery, we were put into the waiting room. After a bit the surgery nurse came to get us. She put us into a room with the instructions of changing into the hospital gown. It was not at all like the last one. This time I was to take it all off and put on the gown. Well, ok.

The gown was different also. It wasn't one of the cloth hospital gowns. It was a heavy paper one. But that wasn't the real zinger, and the one that I thought was going to get K and I kicked out of the area. This one had slits at the breast area. I was thinking that's how they gain access to the breast they are going to remove. K was sure it wasn't. But then I got to thinking that it wouldn't be a sterile field after me putting it on.

K and I laughed about it for a bit, and then I went to sit on the bed. There was a flap - at the crotch line - in the very front. That was too much. We both howled! Amy, the nurse came in. We explained what was going on with out take on the gown. She only said it got better. We couldn't see how. It was already pretty funny.

So Amy told me to go ahead and lay down. She then got a hose that looked for all the world like a vacuum cleaner hose. She plugged it into the crotch flap, and turned on the machine. It was to keep me warm/cool! We lost it! And the slits - they were hand warmer ports, That gown was the funniest thing we had seen in a while.

At least there was something to make the day a little lighter.

It is done

I am home again - a little worst for wear than when I left for the hospital and surgery, I am quite lopsided with the right breast removed, and the surgeon did, indeed, remove more lymph nodes.

His timing was absolutely fantastic. Just before I was given the "happy shot" to relax me before the real anesthesia, he dropped the bomb on me that there was one mini microscopic tumor found in one of the eight lymph nodes that he removed to weeks ago during the lumpectomy. That really does great things for the spirit, you know?

I suppose the surgery went well. I have two drains inserted that have a stitch to hold them in place. One of those stitches is right where I bend when I lean over. It really hurts.

To even things up, the left side has the port for the chemo inserted. It feels great too!

I should be thankful that the prognosis DOES look positive, but sometimes circumstances are a bit overwhelming. Cognitively, I feel things are going to be fine. While I am down here in the trenches, my emotions are not up there with the brain.


I go to the oncologist a week from Monday. Then the next piece of the puzzle will be put into place. I am guessing it will be the rounds of chemo, followed by radiation. I just am not sure about the five years of hormone therapy however.

I guess I'll find out.

Enjoy the rest of your weekend!

Not what I had in mind

Strong. Stoic. Prepared. Assured. Positive. These are the words I wanted to describe me as I enter this treatment. I am not. Not one of these words can describe me right now. I worked so hard to be at least one of those descriptions, but right now I am a mess.

I am frustrated. When my arthritis is hurting me so much, it is hard to keep a positive attitude. I cannot stand for more than five minutes. Walking is almost impossible. It really is so sad when I think how well the medication HAD been working.

I am angry. I am going to be mutilated on Thursday. I know the alternative is death, but to have an entire breast removed is mutilation. I should be beyond this type of petty thinking.

I am really down today. I think fear is being allowed in. I have had one panic attack. When I was at my lowest dealing with the arthritis pain, fear seeped in. I really don't know if I am really ready.

The great unknown lurks out there. I don’t know what is going to happen. I can’t guess what my life is going to be like. I guess I just have to dig a little deeper to find my trust, and above all keep all this secret from my family..

But tomorrow is the day. It will be done tomorrow, and then hopefully I can go on with life

Sick as a dog

This weekend began Friday with Simone getting nauseated about an hour and a half into the journey into the wilderness we call the SSB. We stopped for lunch and went in. It was plenty cool outside, and the windows were rolled down pretty far. As soon as I got in the truck, she started her "licking" that precedes her vomiting. She vomited twice more before we got there.

I really don’t remember Friday night. We went to the Less Than Wide Spot in the Road Community Club. It is a bit of a blur with the rest of the weekend in my mind.

Saturday night, we went to BIL and SIL’s for dinner. They invited most of the neighborhood. That means three of the five neighbors. It was a very enjoyable evening, but we had been gone most of the day when we went into the Mega Metropolis That Has One Stop Sign. We needed deer corn, bird seed and a few other items, plus we wanted to eat at the recognized café’ on the square.

Simone seemed to be fine on Sunday, and we invited little sister to dinner. She is living there alone except for her 17 year old dog who is on his last legs.

In late afternoon, I went out to watch the deer and the birds. I was only on the front deck. I was no more than five feet away. Simone begins her licking again. I couldn ‘t believe it. She finally settled down a bit. I went out again, she started again.

By the time LS got there, Simone was in full vomit mode. There is nothing more appetizing than I vomiting dog under your dinner table. I put her in our bedroom (being ever so thankful for the laminate and tile covering all the floors). Sure enough she vomited.
She had her first food in twenty four hours a while ago. So far so good. I covered the back seat of the truck with five layers of "stuff." I began with the vinyl backed throw for dogs, put a sheet next, then a comforter, another sheet and a duvet cover. She managed to make it without vomiting, just the pre-vomit licking.

She is asleep on her bed right now. She is going to the vet tomorrow. I think she has become a hypochondriac!

That darned plant!

I'm referring to a Kalanchoe that was send to V's funeral back in 2004. The thing lives on my back porch. Normally it just sits there, not really growing much. It's just there.

Last year, it put on blooms. By the way they only bloom in the fall/winter since (bear with the science teacher here) they are short day plants. See the relationship between season and blooming? OK It didn't bloom until last year.

And you are wondering if I have completely lost my mind. Nope, not really. I think I am becoming very superstitious. Last year my dad died. Hummm. Blooms for his wife's death, bloom for his death.

Well, that blasted plant is blooming this year! Gee thanks, I get my diagnosis for breast cancer. I'm facing a mastectomy and that darned plant is blooming - again.

I think I'm going to pull it out by its roots and fling it into the trash!

We're off again. It is our two week rambling into the wilderness of the wild country. I understand they have poured the slab for our "barn" at the SSB. Gotta go see it!

Catch you Monday. The dial up that we have access to there is maddening. I just try not to use it.

Misery

When I was in the surgeon’s office last month for the results of the biopsy he told me there would be good days and bad days in this next year. I thought it would be when the chemo kicked in. I don’t know what the future holds as far as the results of the chemo, but these cold days here in Swampland has my arthritis screaming.

I have been off the drug that keeps the arthritis at bay for about two weeks at this point. It is obviously completely out of my system. The substitute he wants me to take just doesn’t cut it. I am really hurting, and my sleep was severely affected last night.

It bothers me that I can be sent into such despair over this little set back. I have tried to be so strong about this cancer, and if I can be reduced to a sniveling blob because of this discomfort, what is in my future?

Will I be able to regain my composure when the going gets really tough?

The one thing that is a little light at the end of the tunnel is that for a period of time, there will be no surgeries scheduled. That means I can take my magic elixer, and all will be right in the world again - mostly.

And the surgeon says (and Simone news too!))

Today I had a follow-up appointment with the surgeon. He basically said the same thing as the oncologist meaning that he went over the same reports. But at least I was able to ask him questions since the last time my body was with him, I was a little unconscious! So this is what Dr Cutemup had to say:

It seems up cancer, as many other things, it's not over until the fat lady sings. In this case the fat lady is the pathologist.

The tumor was larger than showed on mammogram/ultrasound. The surgeon thought he had it all with clean margins, and took some surounding tissue. The lymph nodes, even now, appear clean. The particular "sentinel node" showed to be very active in taking up the radioactive substance, and seems clean. The pathologist is subjecting it to multiple staining techniques to look for the proverbial "needle in the haystack."

The problem is that there were other tumors, one 2 cm from the massive one, found in the "healthy tissue." In this case this means that I am going to have a mastectomy next week. The date is still not set, although I am hoping for Wednesday. At that time the port for chemo will be inserted and the mastectomy done. Radiation will soon follow, as I understand it. Then shortly after, chemo will begin.

In other happenings around here, Simone is in on the medical front. She has a low functioning thyroid. Gee, what else??

We noticed she was losing hair. I took her to the vet last week, and he did blood work to determine the level of fuctioning of the thyroid. OK, I can give her pills every twelve hours if it means not having a hairless boxer!

I gave her the first pill on Saturday night at 8 pm thinking this would be a good time regardless of whatever else was happening. Sunday morning she got her Prilosec along with the new thyroid tablet.

We had Sunday night family dinner, which B and C prepared and brought. I gave her the next thyroid pill at 8 pm. By 9 pm, Simone was beginning her "licking" which heralds her vomiting. I thought S had dropped food because she was very interested in something in the area where he ate. Eating dropped food will usually bring on her nausea.

By 10pm she was vomiting - a lot. She and I stayed up until 3 am. She still was not "all there."

I got up and gave her another pill at 8 am on Monday. She was not interested in her food - all day. We have come to the conclusion that it was not S's fault. She must not be able to tolerate the tablet. We have kept her from them since yesterday morning, and I have my normal boxer back. My next move is to call the vet.

It never ends!

As the pendulum swings,

Whoa, hold on tight as the pendulum swings the other direction. I saw my Swiss oncologist with the nicest French accent today. I love to listen to him speak, but I would rather hear more pleasant news from him.

The preliminary pathology reports are back from the tumor. It was almost twice as large as the mammogram and ultrasound showed. It was about 4 cm. It also wasn’t a nice little lump, it had tentacles that reached out into the other cysto-fibrotic tissue that makes up my breasts. It could have little ones hiding out in that nice dense tissue.

So what this means is that the breast and I will be parting company. The decision is now is it chemo and then mastectomy, or is it mastectomy them chemo. I for one would rather have the surgery then the chemo. My illustrious physicians will have to have really good reasons for the chemo first.

I see the surgeon tomorrow for the results. I don’t yet know if this includes the gene results or not. As it stands at this point, the lymph node still appears clean, but as the oncologist said, they are using different stains to "look for the needle in the haystack."

I guess I’ll have more information tomorrow after meeting with the surgeon. As for now, I’m just clutching onto that pendulum.

Cancer surgery at its best

Yesterday was a really busy day. Things were done to me that I didn’t expect. My day began at 7am. I went to the Mammography lab in the professional building associated with the hospital. I really didn’t know what they were going to do, but I found out pretty quick. They were to "localize" the tumor. That meant that by using ultrasound, they inserted a wire into the tumor. It is really strange to see a wire protruding from your breast.

Then I was off to imaging where I got to sit for about an hour to wait for the technician to get there, as well as keep the time frame for the surgery. I knew they were going to inject me with a radioactive substance to find the sentinel node. There is a window for the injection of the substance and the time in surgery to find that node. That is the node that will be the one that is the most likely to trap any cells from the tumor. What I did not know was how much that would hurt. Even though it was a tiny needle, the location and depth of insertion made it hurt - a lot!!

They then took some "pictures" of the immediate injection site and what things looked like then. I knew I would have to wait for an hour, but I expected to go back out to the waiting room, but they put me on my stretcher to send me to the outpatient surgery area. They thought, and correctly so, that I would be more comfortable there.

After a bit I was taken back to imaging for more pictures. The technician was finally able to locate the sentinel node, and I was whisked back to surgery because the surgeon was there and ready. Vitals were done, the IV was put in, the anesthetists came in, and I was off to surgery!
My recovery was harder that it has been before, although I have only been under general sedation four other times. I had a real problem regaining my senses, or at least it seemed to me. My real pain was my knees! That was really strange. In a few minutes, however, the breast let me know it had been violated.

The best news is that the tumor was completely excised, and the sentinel node was clear. With any luck, this will not be a blog about fighting cancer. I hope to go back to just relating the doings in my family!

If this post didn’t make a lot of sense, I am on heavy duty pain relievers, and I am flying high..

Peace and strength

The waiting for the surgery has not been terrible. I do want to get it over. I want to have that tumor removed and get on with whatever treatment awaits.

People are telling me to keep a positive attitude and keep my spirits up. I have and they are! In fact, I told one friend that’s all I have been praying for. I just pray for strength to keep myself going. I want to be able to take this with grace. It’s worked. I feel very strong and positive.

The only thing that is killing me is that I can’t take my one little precious pill that keeps my arthritis at bay. I never realized how much that little pill helped. My fourth finger, right hand is so sore I am completely unable to make a fist. When we left SSB yesterday, I wasn’t completely obsessed with getting the kitchen sink completely spotless because it hurt too much.

When I went to bed last night, there was no sleeping. Both knees were screaming, the left him was pounding, the right shoulder would not allow any comfortable position, and the right finger was just as loud as everything else.

The pain reliever I can take might as well be sugar pills, but I was in so much pain, I did down two of them. I wonder if I will get serious pain pills after the surgery on Thursday?? I hope so.

Meanwhile, people really need to be praying for G. He is really more upset than I am.

The big day

The big day is almost here. I am scheduled for the lumpectomy on Thursday the 8th.

I had my follow up appointment with the surgeon. Apparently the PET scan was good. He never brought it up, so I guess it was clear. Then we went about scheduling the surgery.

I am going to a brand new hospital, but it is not on my providers list, so I don’t know what this is going to cost me. Since the doctor hates the hospital that we all used to go to, I would rather go to this new one. He and several other docs that started the other hospital are pulling out of that one since it is now owned by a corporation and they built this new one.

I was in his office for more than an hour yesterday while they were making the arrangements with the hospital for the surgery. Then they told me to go for the pre-op at the hospital.

While I was at the registration desk, the PET scan tech came down to explain how I will have the lymph nodes checked. I will cover the entire hospital that day. I begin with the mammography lab where I think they will put some type of device into the tumor. Then I go see her in another place where she will inject a radioactive substance into the tumor and take pictures.

Then I will get to finally have the lumpectomy. That is scheduled for noon. All the while, I will not have had anything since midnight!

The rest of the pre-op included an EKG, which they did twice since the first one said I had ventricular fibulation! Then the wonderful stick for the blood work. Then it was off to x-ray for a chest x-ray.

I tell you what - by the time I have the surgery, I will glow in the dark!

So that's it!

I have had an epiphany. I am embarrassed by the fact that I have cancer.

It has manifested itself in the fact that I am uncomfortable with people going with me to doctor’s appointments. It also is keeping me from allowing my name to be put on the prayer chain.

Why in the world am I embarrassed by this? It absolutely makes no sense at all.

I can write about it here - but then I can tell only what I am comfortable with allowing others to know. I could email my condition to people to whom I feel close. I have trouble talking about it.
I have trouble with the idea of the entire church knowing about it. That makes no real sense.

The whole thing makes no sense. This is nothing to be embarrassed about, but there it is.

For want of PET scan results

I suppose the future will be full of pendulum-like mood swings. Sunday night I was so fearful and nearing depression about this cancer thing. After the oncologist visit yesterday, I am once again hopeful, but that is all contingent on the findings of the PET scan.

The fact that the hospital hasn’t seen fit to share the results of the PET scan is really angering me at this point. I thought the whole idea was that I would have it early on Friday so that the results can be available my Monday afternoon. Well . . . I won't even go there.

The oncologist was very poitive, but then that’s their main business. I mean who wants to go to a physician who is going to poison you and emit to you a persona full of doom. I don’t think they could very well convince too many people to go through four or more rounds of being poisoned, hair loss, possible heart damage, and perhaps leukemia with no hope of being able to pick up with a good life after that.

The oncologist said that even though my tumor is not considered small, it is not large. That could be a problem or not. I love a definitive answer! The next step, which he and the surgeon agreed upon, is surgery. After looking at the tumor, doing a test which includes genetic testing, and looking at the lymph nodes will give us the definitive next step.

At the very best, I would be considered a low risk for metastasis, and that would mean no chemotherapy. I would be placed on hormone therapy for five years. The worst cast would involve two rounds of chemotherapy and the hormone therapy for five years. Intermediate would be one round of chemo, and then the hormone therapy. Radiation would be in each of those.

So now my tennis match of doctors is back with the surgeon. As soon as he gets the PET scan results, we will meet to arrange for the surgery which will be a lumpectomy and studying the sentinel lymph nodes. Then in two weeks the ball and I return to the oncologist.

I feel somewhat like a mushroom who is exposed to a little sunlight!

Disclaimer: This is written from fear and is a real downer

Today is my appointment with the oncologist. I have trued to keep very upbeat and strong. I do not feel upbeat and I certainly don’t feel strong. I am scared to death.

This is it. This is the result of the scan. This tells me where the cancer may have spread. It tells me how and if they will treat it.

I couldn’t get it off my mind last night. I couldn’t sleep. The cloud hanging over my head is suffocating, and I am so very scared. I have told my family I’m fine. I told them I don’t need anyone to go with me to the appointment. In a way, that’s true. I guess I’m a little strange in that I don’t like anyone else hear bad news with me. I don’t know where that comes from. It certainly doesn’t take away the horror of it all.

So at 2:30 I am scheduled to meet with the oncologist. A doctor who I have never met, yet holds my life in his hands. In some aspects this is terrifying yet comforting.

The morning news is running in the background as I write this. They interviewed a young woman - 36. She also has breast cancer in her right breast. When she was talking about it, I had a smug thought when she was talking about the tumor being small. Hers was 3.3 cm and mine is only 2.3 cm. Ha - mine is smaller. My chances are better. Then again who knows.

She just had a mastectomy and reconstruction last week. She begins chemo now. Will I have to do that, or can they just remove the lump and then begin chemo? These questions are beginning to weigh so heavily.
All the strength I have prayed for is leaving me rapidly. I am so scared.

Disclaimer: This is written from fear and is a real downer

Today is my appointment with the oncologist. I have trued to keep very upbeat and strong. I do not feel upbeat and I certainly don’t feel strong. I am scared to death.

This is it. This is the result of the scan. This tells me where the cancer may have spread. It tells me how and if they will treat it.

I couldn’t get it off my mind last night. I couldn’t sleep. The cloud hanging over my head is suffocating, and I am so very scared. I have told my family I’m fine. I told them I don’t need anyone to go with me to the appointment. In a way, that’s true. I guess I’m a little strange in that I don’t like anyone else hear bad news with me. I don’t know where that comes from. It certainly doesn’t take away the horror of it all.

So at 2:30 I am scheduled to meet with the oncologist. A doctor who I have never met, yet holds my life in his hands. In some aspects this is terrifying yet comforting.

The morning news is running in the background as I write this. They interviewed a young woman - 36. She also has breast cancer in her right breast. When she was talking about it, I had a smug thought when she was talking about the tumor being small. Hers was 3.3 cm and mine is only 2.3 cm. Ha - mine is smaller. My chances are better. Then again who knows.

She just had a mastectomy and reconstruction last week. She begins chemo now. Will I have to do that, or can they just remove the lump? These questions are beginning to weigh so heavily.
All the strength I have prayed for is leaving me rapidly. I am so scared.

One big lie for my daughter

Yes, I am going to tell my daughter a lie today. She is having Lady Bug’s birthday party at Mr Mouse’s Pizza Place. I normally go to all of Lady Bug’s parties - even the ones they had given by her day care.

So why am I going to lie to K? Because her in laws are all here. I confess that there is absolutely no love lost between them and us. It is a long story, and it is not going to change.

So the lie that I am going to tell her is that since she only has 20 seats reserved, her dad and I will not be there because the PET scan really aggravated my arthritis, and I don’t want to make a big deal out of finding a chair.

Pathetic isn’t it? Well, if I have only a certain number of days on this planet I am going to try to spend them with the people I want and doing things I want. Selfish? Probably. Will it really make a difference to Lady Bug? No. She doesn’t see those people as much as she sees me, and she is really excited about them being here.

K would probably understand all this, but in this case a lie will smooth things over better than the truth.

I’ll have a cake for Lady Bug at dinner tomorrow night.

D day or should I say P day

Today was the PET/CAT scan day. The hospital called my on Wednesday telling me that they had to move my appointment to today because they were calibrating the camera yesterday.
Then the technician began telling me about the procedure. She said I could not really bring a paperback novel because that would cause too much muscle action in my hands and the radioactivity would pool there. That is itself was bad news. I don’t go anywhere without a book. She said I could read magazines, but I can’t think of a magazine on the face of this earth that could hold my attention for an hour.

Then she said some people bring a portable DVD player. Ummmm, I didn’t have one, but I thought that would be a SPLENDID idea. I’ve got DVDs around here that I haven’t seen. So out I went yesterday to capture a portable DVD player. Then, of course, I had to have ear plugs as well as a carrying case.

I rationalized all of this to G by saying that I would probably be in need of something like this as I continue with chemotherapy and the like. Bless his heart, he just nodded and went on knowing that there was nothing that would change my mind. Thirty eight years of marriage does that to a man.

When I got there and finally over to the PET scan unit, I was placed in a lead lined room. Talk about feeling like a pariah! When the technician brought the solution that contained the radioactive elixir, it came in a lead box and the syringe was encased in lead. I was a little nervous about that!

To wrap this up, generally the experience was not a bad one. The worst part is being strapped to the table, not being able to move for about 2 hours. That is my definition of torture in itself, but when the arthritis kicked in, well let’s just say when she said :about 19 more minutes Mrs Grandma," I really wanted to cry.

But it’s over - for now. I know there will be more in my future. At least I hope there will be more. I just hope this one doesn’t show widespread tumors. Hopefully the next ones will not be "full body" because there is not need. We’ll shall see.

I’m off to the oncologist Monday afternoon. Oh, and I am still radioactive, but I don't glow in the dark, darn it!

Waiting game

I feel this whole ordeal is a waiting game. Part of it is my fault. I made the decision to spent the first week post partial diagnosis at the SSB. I wanted G to be able to hunt that week. I made it to the surgeon the next day we were in town, and I had the biopsy exactly one week later. I got the diagnosis on Thursday of that same week.

So here we are almost a month later, and no treatment has begun. The hospital did not call when they should have, then scheduled me three days later. Today they called and I have to wait for another day because they have to calibrate the camera. Why could that have not been done before?

The oncologist appointment was made for Friday, but that has to be postponed until Monday so they have the results of the scan. Between you and me, I don’t think the results will be at the oncologist’s office.

The oncologist my surgeon really wanted me to see is too busy, so I have to see another in that group. I am a little sad about that, but I know the surgeon thinks they are all good, but he really preferred the one. I called his office to keep them up to speed.

Perhaps I will be getting treatment by July!

And the envelope say . . .

Yes, the biopsy confirmed that I have breast cancer. I am being sent for a PET scan on Thursday, and am awaiting the appointment with the Oncologist. I am finding the answer to questions in small increments.

I don’t know what the treatment involves because the scan will determine if the cancer has spread anywhere. With luck, it will involve a lumpectomy and chemo. If not, I am not sure of the course of treatment.

So the mood of these postings will definitely change. There is so much unknown out there, but we are continuing with out lives. We are still planning weekends away, and in fact are planning a trip to Chicago at the end of April.

I am not going to let this get me down. My prayers are for strength, nor mercy. I just want to face this thing with strength and grace

Funny and not so

It has been freezing here in Swampland. The forecast for yesterday was sleet and freezing rain. Everyone was concerned, but nothing happened. Then yesterday evening, the rain began, and the temperature began to drop.

When Simone decided she had to go out at 3:45 this morning, I thought we were out of the woods again. There would be no ice today. When she got up again at our normal time, 6:30, I turned on the television. Schools were closed and freeway ramps and overpasses were closed. There was a 15 car accident on one of the freeways. Swamplanders do not know how to handle that slick stuff.

Of course, the television stations have taken this weather as their own. The ice storm, with the various names hung on it by the different stations, has taken over our news. The weather people were still licking their wounds from crying wolf for Tuesday. The ice never hit. They called for it from Sunday on. It never came.

They, I’m sure, felt vindicated today. They preempted the national morning shows to cover the situation here. They are still coming on during each and every commercial break to give updates on the temperature and the thawing!

I’ve got to have a little sympathy for them, after all, we didn’t get a hurricane this year. We didn’t even get really heavy rains. It has been a very slow weather season for those poor souls.

In a more serious note, I had the biopsy done yesterday. The surgeons office called today for G and me to come in. We are going in tomorrow for the results. Both the doctor and the nurse tell me that regardless of the news, we have to come in, but since they are wanting G to also come in, I think the news will not be good. I think there is a malignancy, and we will be discussing a treatment plan. Needless to say, there is a great deal of apprehension on my part now even though I feel I am expecting the worst.

When these things come up, my fight or flight tends to run to flight. I would like to just run away from the whole situation. Anyone have some sand I can put my head into?

Close call

My biopsy almost was moved to yesterday. I reminded that I had not stopped the aspirin based meds until yesterday. The nurse asked the doctor, and he said he didn’t want to do it because the bruising would be too great. This gives me a little pause. I was thinking a needle biopsy done in the office wouldn’t be too great a deal. I am almost ready to ask for someone to go with me.

I am still praying with strength to deal with this without dissolving into tears. I was doing much better than I am now. It didn’t help to watch television last night with the father of a major character on one show finding he had cancer in multiple organs. They didn’t give him much of a chance, and there would be no chemo or radiation.

I shouldn’t be watching programs like that. I really need to make sure that I keep my spirits up. I especially need to be positive around the family. As the surgeon said, tears won’t do any good at all. I need to just gird my loins and fight this thing.

It is just so difficult right now. There is no definitive diagnosis on anything. I don’t know if it is really cancer. I don’t know what kind. I don’t know if it has spread. I don’t know if I will be getting chemo or radiation or both. I just feel like I cannot plan my life past the pathology report.

I got the form to reserve a booth at the festivities in Tiny Town in July. I don’t know what kind of condition I will be in then. I’m thinking I’ll send in the form so I could get a good spot this time. I have until June to cancel and get my money back.

With the weather about to change terribly, keep warm!

For several years after my father in law took the hunting rights back from what is now my sister in law’s place in Tiny Town County, I bravely packed up and went with G when he went hunting. Having been a biology major with knowledge of anatomy, I would go out and help him "dress" the deer. That means I would help skin and dismember said deer. I don't remember that being in our wedding vows, however!

I continued doing this even after the children were born which made for some tricky times. I would be running between the house and the rack at the hunter’s cabin. There’s not much telling what went on with those kids while I was outside, but nothing was broken (thank goodness since it was mother in law’s house), and neither child was maimed.

After a few years, I finally got smart and decided to stay home when he would make these forays into the "wilderness." It was terribly boring for me. There was no satellite television at that time, and the tall antenna would only bring in one station. It was supposed to be able to turn to bring in all sorts of stations, but we were afraid to try to turn it. Unvariably, if a turn was attempted, the thing would break, and that would mean NO television at all.

It was boring to sit in the house, without car, nothing to entertain (especially the kids), from about 3 pm to around 6:30. Then it was not fun to go out to "dress the deer" especially when it was cold and I was in tennis shoes. Frost bitten toes were in order.

But now we have our own place, with satellite. I no longer go out to help with whatever deer was taken. Usually the only thing I have to do with the venison is to cook it at some later date. That was true until this year.

I bought one of those really neat vacuum food sealers to keep at SSB. The first deer G shot this year, I bagged the pieces while we were still there. Well, that’s not too bad. I made one mistake. I worked with the venison other than making it into some heavenly dish.

This second deer that was shot on the last day of the season was supposed to have been bagged while we were there. I was too busy cleaning the house which was filthy. Things like that happen when you have eight people living there for four days, a party of fourteen on New Year’s Eve, and then another person coming for two days after the mob left. The deer was put into the freezer.

What I did not know was that blasted deer was only quartered. It was still on the bones! And now it was frozen solid. And I was to package it. Did you know that you cannot cut frozen meat?
I left the ice chest outside on Monday night. Even here in Swampland, it can be chilly at night. The meat was solidly frozen. It was going to be fine. Yesterday I opened the chest. It was at this time I found it was only quartered. It was still as solid as a rock. G had really expected me to process it yesterday. I told him there was no way.

I decided I would bring in the ice chest today and open it to let the meat thaw while I was at the dentist having my teeth cleaned. I did just that. When I got home, I retrieved the rump only to find it was still frozen - solid. I let it all sit until 4 this afternoon. It was still pretty solid, especially on the bottom.

After fighting it for an hour and a half, the score stands at:
1 venison rump - 99% removed from the bone
5 fingers - frostbite
3 fingers - frozen
remaining rump and shoulders - in the outside refrigerator to defrost.

And so it is

I am just back from seeing the surgeon. I am scheduled for a biopsy on Tuesday. The mass is suspicious, and from the radiographer’s report probably malignant.

If the pathology comes back with that diagnosis, there will be other scans and test. There are many decisions that will have to be made at that point.

So, it looks like this is going to be turning into the chronicle of my fighting breast cancer. I realize the diagnosis has yet to be made, but I’m pretty sure that the surgeon feels that is the answer and the needle biopsy is just needed for confirmation.

The unknown awaits

Just before Christmas, I finally made the trip to the Ob-Gyn. This is one trip that I had been postponing for way too many years. I am ashamed to say just how many years, so I’m not. You would be shocked.

This particular doctor is the one who delivered Monkey Boy, and I was very impressed with him. I have now joined all the women in my family under his care. His examination was unremarkable. Everything looked good. But there is the results of the pap test and the dreaded mammogram.

The mammogram has not gotten a bit better. I still felt like a car was driven over my chest.
As I waited for the results, I was nervous. My doctor stated that if the pap was normal, he wouldn’t call. There was no call for some time. Relief flooded over me. Then just before New Year’s, his office called. The mammogram showed something, and I had to go for a "spot compression mammogram" and an ultrasound. The nurse made me an appointment for the next day, Thursday.

The "spot compression" is exactly what it sounds like. The same old procedure with even more pressure in a smaller spot. Not fun. I was full of myself with the ultrasound. Certainly that wouldn’t hurt. Ha! I could not believe the pressure.

Two days later we left for the SSB. We were to be there for 9 days. The nurse at the doctor’s office had high hopes of getting the result the next day which was a Friday. Well that didn’t happen. I am fully aware of how slow even the medical field is during the holidays.

It was on Tuesday the next week she called. I need to go to a surgeon for a biopsy. She really wanted me to return right away. I figured if it had been there for this time, a few more days will make no difference. She made me an appointment for today, a week later.

So here I sit, waiting until later to pick up the films from the imaging center to take to the surgeon. I have no clue about what awaits me. I know there is a mass. It appears large.
This blog may become one of chronicling my fight with breast cancer. I don’t know yet. All my plans suddenly have been placed on hold. I am certainly not in control of my future - as if I really ever was. None of us are in reality. We don’t know what awaits us tomorrow.

I’ll keep you posted.

Sad anniversary

This is the day that my dad entered a fight for his life - and lost.

This is the day that we got the 10 PM call from my daughter in law that Grampa was put into the hospital. She didn’t know what was really wrong at that time. It was about 3 AM we learned he had a really bad case of pneumonia.

I was amazed that he was so ill. I had seen him two days before and saw no sigh of respiratory distress. Now I was five hours away. It was my nightmare coming true. He needed me and it was not easy to get there.

All plans had changed. The family Christmas party was off. We scurried to pack up and close up the house. G’s brother and wife were there trying to do whatever, and in a swirl we were off.
I got to the hospital, and there he was. Fairly alert. I waited for the doctors. They gave no real hope.

Ultimately, I had to make the call that we use the DNR (no life supports). I never dreamed that decision could be so hard. But it was. Even though the Alzheimer’s had taken my dad from me, the shell was still there.

The real nightmare had begun. He would linger for the next two weeks, unable to swallow, but his condition not warranting a food tube. It a was the most distressing time of my life. It was a time of complete self doubt.

Here in the end, I really believe my actions were correct. I am no longer second quessing myself. My beloved dad was 93 and in the absolute end stage of dementia. With that feeding tube, he would have lingered until another catastrophic infection came on. He would probably have had the foley (urinary tube) in for the rest of his life. That possibly would have been the next infectjon.

It still boils down to one thing. Even though I began losing Dad at least ten years ago, the finality of it still is fresh. I so miss him, and on this anniversary the pain is still fresh.

I'm scared

I have to share this fear even though there is so much guilt associated with it. I finally went for my well woman check. I got a call from the doctor’s office. My mammogram was suspicious, and without other films to use for comparison, today I have to go for more detailed tests.

Putting this check up is so very easy. I know most women would rather do anything rather than hop up on that table and put her feet into those stirrups. I have had an additional problem of connecting with a physician that I really could connect with.

I have finally gone with the one all the other females in my family uses. I met him when Monkey Boy was born, and I really liked him then. I have been through the examination, and I do like him.

This mammogram thing is something that has really grabbed my attention. I realize now how foolish I was to wait so long. I flat lied when I told them I haven’t been seen for this check up in five years. It is more like ten.

I understand that many women have these additional tests. One is a more extensive mammogram and the other is ultrasound. There was no real tumor, just a mass and some calcification. It is very probable that there is nothing to be too alarmed about, but there is the other possibility.

If there is a problem, I hope I was able to catch it early. I certainly didn’t help myself though. I was so very foolish.

Off we go!

It is almost that time again. It is almost time to load up the 500 pounds of food (well, it seems like it, especially to G) to take to the SSB for the extended family Christmas/New Year’s Eve party. This year is expected to be a big one again, with only my nephew missing. He can’t get off work.

I wouldn’t even bat an eye at this if it weren’t for G. When we first put the place up, it seemed that on each trip we were heavily laden with "stuff." It seemed we would never get completely moved in. There was always more things to take up.
We have finally gotten most of the "stuff" there with the exception of a few things every now and then. This trip that includes the beautiful Texas star with our name on it that the kids gave us for Christmas. But for the most part there is not too much more that we need.

But for some reason, I feel that I have to take all the food that we will need with us. I could go into town after we get there, but I just don’t. So I went foraging at my Mega Mart and Wholesale Club yesterday. I was so loaded down that I had to begin putting things in the back seat, not just the trunk.

It was probably just as well however. I needed clam juice for the gumbo that we are going to have Sunday night. I was hard pressed to find it at the local Mega Mart. I know that the closest little town would not have it at all.
What is really sad about the amount of food that I am taking with us is that I am going into the little town to buy food for the remaining time we will be spending there. Our little family will go home on Monday, but we are staying through the week.

So beware! On Saturday the loud expletives deleted you hear will come from my ever loving husband, G when he loads the two ice chests and plastic bin into the truck for our little get together. He will once again ask me if we will ever get moved in!

I guess not.

Mixed feelings

Christmas is such a mixed bag of emotions for me at this stage in my life. While there is still the childlike unbridled joy of the season, there is also the dark memories of events in the past, namely the dewaths that occurred around the holidays.

Watching Lady Bug getting ready for Christmas brings childhood memories. Dad was a letter carrier for the Post Office, and this season would bring long days for him. He would be home late on Christmas Eve because there was so much mail for him to deliver. That would put me into a tizzy waiting for him. You see, Christmas Eve was the night we would open out presents. That could not happen until after dinner which could not happen until Daddy was home. The anticipation was just too much to bear.

He walked his mail route, and even though we have a mounted route here, I cannot help but be taken back to those times waiting for him to come home when I see one of the mail trucks.
My mother was one who loved decorating for Christmas, and I followed in her foot steps there also. You wouldn’t know it now. For the last couple of years, there has been a wreath on the door and some lights thrown onto the shrubs. This year, my tree is a one foot thing that I had gotten for V when she way dying three years ago. Two years ago, I did put up a tree. Thankfully it was artificial because it stayed up until almost Easter. I was going through a bad time with my arthritic knees. We are gone so much I just don’t see any reason to go through that again.

The sad times wrap themselves around me like a dark cloak. My mother died before Christmas 34 years ago. My "step-mom,"V, died two days after Christmas. Last year my dad was put in the hospital on December 29. I knew it was the end. He died January 13.

Even with the joy of the season, even with the joy of the grandchildren, even with the gifts, there are those ghosts lurking there reminding me of the frailty of life. Dad’s death is still so fresh. I find myself grieving now almost more than I did when he died.

Give your loved ones an extra hug this season. It may be the last time you can.

Last Friday evening we went to the Christmas party at Wide Spot in the Road Community Club. B and C were with us, and I was wondering how they would reach to the entire thing.

There is always a "Chinese Gift Exchange," and this year was no exception. Normally, the sequence of events is that we have dinner, a short business meeting, and then the gift exchange. This year, the hosts must have decided to cook dinner at the meeting place.

We gathered and had the business meeting where the old business was postponed, as usual. It is time for a new slate of officers to be given. The nominating committee slipped up on the job and had not met. Birthdays and anniversaries are announced at the end of the meeting and it handled by the historian of the community. He is a wonderful 80 year old (plus), and was having considerable difficulty. This group is fast with the joking barbs, and he was not spared. B got great enjoyment from the quips that were flying!


We were to have eaten then, but the food wasn’t ready. The menu included pork loins, salad and a medley of potatoes. It was the potatoes that were not done. So it was decided that we would start the gift exchange. Numbers were chosen, and we were to begin.

But everyone began visiting, and no gifts were being chosen. Suddenly it was decided the food was ready, and we should line up. In reality, the potatoes were still not done, but the flavor of the food was excellent. Absolutely no one complained. Then they hit the dessert table. There were certainly no complaints there.

B and C only had one gift, so I got the one of those for the family New Years’s Eve Christmas party for them to take with the other. B and I both had number 3, and we knew if we got something good it would be gone. Mine was a candle set and it was taken right away. I went to choose another. I knew after opening it I would go home with it. It was a box of crackers and a bottle of raspberry chiplote sauce.

B had some really great gifts. I lost count, but I think he had four totally. I don’t think he minded losing most of them, and in the end he ended up with a really nice towel ring that will go great when they get a house. C got an incense warmer that she donated to the house.

All the way home he kept remarking about how he didn’t expect all the barbs that group can sling, and how much fun it was to be there. It really was a wonderful evening of laughter and fellowship. They are all very sharp, and they all care about one another. Shoot, most are related. There are only about 2 families in the area that aren’t.

Talking about the weather, again

Once again I find myself ranting about the weather. Last week it was so cold, The temperature never got out of the 40's.

This week, the week I promised I would bake cookies for G's co-workers Christmas gifts, the temperature will top out in the 70's!

Last night, sleeping was difficult because it was too warm for the heater and too cool for the air conditioning. I simply could not get comfortable. I tossed and turned all night.

I know this is typical Texas weather, and especially typical for Swampland, but gee!

Difficult gifts

Things always get hectic around here during the holidays, but this year seems to be worse than ever. I really thought I was on top of the game. I had completed most of my shopping. All I had left to do was to pick up two gifts for the party at Wide Spot in the Road. That became my most daunting task.

Last year, I didn’t put much thought into those gifts. I went to the Less Than A Buck store. Simple. As the gifts were being unwrapped, there were some really neat things, and I began to wish I had put more thought into my offerings. In fact, I walked away with the cutest reindeer plates.

So I set out to get some drop dead great gifts. I went to Mega store yesterday thinking I could find something that would do for a male’s gift, but forgetting that everything they sold came by the gross. I stumbled on some beautifully packaged truffles that met the price constraint. I thought that would be great. After all, who doesn’t like chocolate? Other than G I mean.

When G came home, I showed him the package and told him what was in it. He replied that should have been the woman’s gift - chocolate is for women. Now I am thinking I shouldn’t have gotten that as a gift. I had been trying to get him to give me an idea, but nothing. I guess I could have gotten a screw driver set or ratchet tie downs.

Anyway, I think my woman’s gift will be a hit. I found a set of candle holders that are really pretty. I think they will be sought after.

Joy has come at last

Oh the news people here is Swampland are gleeful. They have a story. It’s about the weather. We have had one of our Blue Northers blow through the area. Even though we didn’t have a hurricane, this is almost as good.

The weather gurus talk about how low the temperature will go. They are able to give freeze warnings. The regular news reporters are able to go out to the stores to talk about how many people are buying space heaters, and the anchors are then able to caution people about the dangers of those space heaters. They warn to keep them away from bedding and other flammable things. Then they warn about carbon monoxide and advise home owners to get their heaters checked.

Now all these warnings are needed, just as the warnings about hurricanes are needed, but, as usual, are over worked. It is as though there is nothing else happening in the city, state, or world.

Not only do they report on conditions here, they borrow reports. Since we didn’t get freezing rain, sleet or snow (drat it all they say), they imported reports from the Dallas/Ft. Worth area. We were given images of cars careening off roads, and had guest reporters standing out in the freezing rain. You know we just don't believe how bad the weather can be without someone standing in it!

It is so nice that Mother Nature sometimes graces these people with something to talk about. Otherwise, in this area at least, the weather is the same: hot and humid.