How is it already 6am?
No wonder I am sweating with these dogs piled up on top of me.
She is so beautiful when she is sleeping.
Why do the neighbors let their dogs out as soon as I let ours out, no matter when that is????
Jerks.
MY DOGS ARE BEING ANTAGONIZED TO BARK!!!
I love sleep.
Maybe today I can take some more pictures.
How can you check your horoscope and be a Christian? Jesus said NOT to seek out fortune tellers and soothsayers.
What's a "sooth"?
Precious Son...barely fits in his bed at 6'4". God love his heart.
Adoration.
Confession.
Thanksgiving.
Supplication.
The girls at radiation are so wonderful!!!! Every day, they make me feel important and as if they are genuinely glad to see me. I hope they like me as much as I like them.
I love walking my dogs.
Our water bill has doubled because of that faucet dripping.
Maybe I'm not allergic to NutraSweet and Splenda but just the cola itself.
Trash night.
Why are lunchmeat and pizza round when sandwich bread and pizza boxes are square?
I hope trash tv goes away. Why do people keep tuning in? What is wrong with you all??? How is watching fighting good? Or smut? Do you really care which of the four she was sleeping with got her pregnant? Would you be embarrassed if God walked in while you were watching some of what you watch? Turn it off. God, just turn it off... Nevermind. I'll do it. (sitting in a waiting room)
"Do not confuse your vested interests with ethics. Do not identify the enemies of your privilege with the enemies of humanity." ~Max Lerner, Actions and Passions, 1949
Who coined the phrase, "coined the phrase"?
Is he thinking about me?
Need to find out about settings for compositions in natural light.
Maybe I can stop wearing my hats soon. This is not necessarily good if my hair comes back like it left.
Man's inhumanity to man. Hate that. How can people be so mean even under the guise of war?
If I exercise more, I can still eat ice cream. There HAS to be a way...
I need to buy a rotisserie.
Sitara? Ritsara? Simbara? Ok. I know it's at St. Pete beach...
Babs will never know how much I admire her strength.
Is there another word for thesaurus?
How could someone intentionally harm a child or an animal or anything with breath?
I am a terrible role model while in a vehicle...driving, music, phone, inattentive...
Is he thinking about me?
If I had to choose between having them change out the toilet paper roll or remove their shirts from their sweatshirts before putting them in the laundry, which would I choose?
Why do I have to choose? DO IT!!!!
How can people come out of their house looking so stupid? You are begging me to think bad things about you...and I do...which makes me mad because then I am a bad person but it's your fault.
I have issues...anger, emotional, indecisiveness about which issues are worse.
I'm sorry, your bumper sticker says to "Go Organic"...is that cigarette you are smoking organic? And what about that second hand smoke your kids are choking down in your van? Organic? Just checking.
People are such hypocrites.
I am such a hypocrite.
No, no. Please cut me off in traffic so you can get to the red light first.
Idiot.
Thank you for smoking while pumping gas. This is exactly how I wanted to make my grand exit from this ole world.
Why isn't there a light in the freezer? There's one in the fridge...
What am I looking for in the freezer?
Sirata!!! That's it. The Sirata Resort in St. Petersburg.
"I wanna love like Johnny and June...I wanna walk the line, walk the line...til the end of time" (song)
How many people have looked for loopholes in the Bible besides me? Am I the only sinner?
What do people in China call their good plates?
I wonder if anyone else worries about these tv's dangling from the ceilings in WalMart. Every one I walk under I think, "That could fall on me and kill me. Am I the only one who thinks about this?"
I have no idea why I feel the way I do about you, or you, or especially you.
AAAAAAARRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!! You cannot be serious!!! PICK UP AFTER YOURSELVES!!!!
No, my name is NOT Anal McLooney. Do what you are supposed to do!!!
I love Girl Scout cookies.
How can I use my admiration and devotion for our military and help soldiers post-tour?
Need to throw that out. Why did I freeze that knowing I would not eat it? Ugh.
Why is the word "abbreviation" so long?
"Now the party don't start til I walk in..." (song)
I love, Love, LOVE my new camera!!!
Civil War???
No, you did NOT just talk to your child that way!!! Give them to me. Now!!!
Why do some people have children and mistreat them while others have only memories?
People find the police intrusive until they need them to intrude.
People. People. People. Race, religion, ethnicity, financial status...these are not the things that define you unless you allow them to. Don't! Just be you...not a label. Diversity is beauty and strength. Your character is your choice.
Ooooooooooooooooh!!! Excellent photo!!
Is he thinking about me?
I hate traffic.
"Come over here-What's your name? Come closer-What's your number?" (song)
Germany. *sigh*
Seemingly there IS a way to justify absolutely everything if you are narcissistic. Good for the narcissists. Bad for the rest of us.
Did that rhyme?
The Horse. God's most beautiful creature.
"I wish I could be as cruel as you-And I wish I could say the things you do-But I can't and I won't live a lie-No not this time..." (song)
Do I look like that??
Check on Mary Jo and Jim.
I love butterflies. Flutterbyes. I wish I had thought to call them that.
What to fix for dinner?
El Toro.
My eyesight is getting worse.
I love photography!!!
Fat chance. Slim chance. Same thing, right?
Would it take and act of God to have anyone besides me change the toilet paper roll?
So many people would be shocked to know my thoughts...sometimes even I am.
Photoshop is like coloring to me...and coloring makes me soooooooooooooooooooo happy!!!
I am so tired.
I love the cooking utensil aisle.
How do they get teflon coatings to stick to the pans?
Will anyone remember me as I want to be remembered?
Maybe it is the Nutrasweet and Splenda...who has ever been allergic to cola?
How can I feel so many emotions about one person and never settle on just one?
Near miss...orrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr near hit?
I believe that women have the right to work outside the home, however, I also believe we, as a society, are paying the price for two-income families, latchkey kids, and keeping up with the Joneses. There was a simple reverence for family when moms stayed home, raised the kids, kept house, and wore a strand of pearls.
I miss my mom. I miss my mom and my dad.
Why do convicted criminals have more rights than victims and why am I paying for their college degrees and three hot squares while they do not have to work because "forced labor" violates their civil rights? What the...??? What happened to all my plans to revamp the probation and parole system along with creating prison systems that are self-sufficient AND incorporate forced labor? Oh, yeah...I remember.
"You're so vain, you probably think this song is about you..." Um...isn't it about him?
Our kids are awesome and so are their friends.
I wish we had five children.
Your procrastination does not constitute an emergency for me. Oh, wait. Apparently it does.
Please don't put me in a nursing home.
Dinner table with my family. Happiness.
I am not who I thought I would be and I am running out of time to be that person...not just from the cancer, just because time waits for no one.
Would I sacrifice the person I am for the person I want to become or be remembered as being?
AAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!! STUPID, STUPID PEOPLE!!!!!! STOP SPEEDING THROUGH NEIGHBORHOODS WHERE CHILDREN PLAY!!!
"Imma be up in da club, doin' whatever I like..." (song)
Maybe 30 hours a day would be enough...well, 34.
Does anyone get music like I do...I thought so once. Music is what my feelings sound like.
If he were to call "just to hear my voice", surely, my voice would crack or I would say something stupid. He still gives me goosebumps and makes me feel like a schoolgirl and I still want to impress him. What grade am I in????
I hate the word "goosebumps".
"I’m like a jackdaw cawing at your back door, scratching at your windowpane-Hey throw your window wide and taste the April night with me again-Girl we been veering backwards disappearing down into the murky deep-Baby come on, we’ll be a long time gone" (song)
Need to email Kimmie, Deena, and Taylor.
I'm really a terrible person but I want to be good.
Babs and Midge and Lucy and Elay and Ms. B are good.
Will we ever move into our dream house?
Carla is so sweet to help me. I love her.
Why didn't he say "Yes, we have been attending a new church since December" instead of saying "No place regularly"?
I love a house full of kids and being the "cool mom".
How far away would I have to go to be far away enough?
We will be excellent grandparents. EXCELLENT!!! (No, not anytime soon...LOL)
I love my dogs.
Tomorrow has the capability to contradict today.
I should not be left alone because that is when I am most weak to do stupid things.
"It's a quarter after one and I need you now..." (song)
"The first and greatest victory is to conquer yourself; to be conquered by yourself is of all things most shameful and vile." ~Plato
Live with integrity, dignity, kindness, and love....and share each wholeheartedly.
Uninhibited thinking when all is quiet, kids are snuggled down in their beds, and I am alone as the day ends.
Sadly seeing him off to work.
Why did it take a cancer diagnosis to live?
I love the sight of stars.
Is he thinking about me?
I miss him...
Monday, March 8, 2010
Sunday, March 7, 2010
No Cancer Today...
I woke up around 8am, after a pretty rough night. Apparently chemo and radiation on the same day is not a recipe for feeling great. I fell asleep before Big Daddy ever went to work...which I hate. I always "see him off", and when I don't, I just feel terrible. I mean, how tired are you that you can't stay up until 10pm to see your husband off? Ugh. Hate that.
Anyway, I woke up around 8 Saturday morning and realized Beautiful Daughter was in my bed. I don't even recall her coming into my room, much less getting into bed. She and Babs had a late night redecorating Beautiful Daughter's bedroom. It looks so lovely. Deep, but bright yellow painted walls, magenta curtains, and a host of vibrant colors in her new comforter set. Pink and yellow...the favorite colors of my parents...
As Beautiful Daughter began to stir, I rubbed her arm and wished her a happy 15th birthday. How did this happen? I just had her... It was a Thursday, she was two weeks late, and the ignorant check-in clerk told me I was not in labor. (She later changed her mind as she dangled from the IV pole...just don't ask how she got up there and you won't have to testify...)
So much to do this gorgeous Saturday as our baby turns fifteen. Her friends will be arriving at 5:30 this afternoon for a cookout, movie (Alice in Wonderland in 3D), and then back home for cake and ice cream... Good thing I got up when I did...
Beautiful Daughter and I got up, got dressed, grabbed the empty propane tank and took it to WalMart for a refill. (This one is our backup tank. You know full well you will run out of gas when you have company over for a cookout and no time to go get a new one without ruining dinner. Fool me once, shame on me...)
Went to Jeff's Car Wash. Wanting to have a clean vehicle for carting and carrying this evening, I thought we would head out there first, you know, before the line got long from all the other people with salt and dried mud on their vehicles.
Jeff's was closed for the next hour. Grrrrrrr. Fine. Too much to do to crack this early.
Went to the bank and made a deposit.
Went to the Party Store because I realized I am an idiot and did not buy enough Nemo and Dorie plates for cake and ice cream. Yes, Nemo. Hey, she's trapped in that world between wanting to be a young woman and wanting to remain a child. I get that and I'm 40-something!
Went back to WalMart to buy groceries for cookout and party. Also bought a chicken. It looked good and I was hungry because by now, it was going on 11.
Came home, put up groceries. Woke up Precious Son because he had to be at school at noon.
Took Precious Son to school after feeding him in the car. Yes, I fed him in the car because I am no longer concerned with the Mother of the Year contest as I was disqualified back in January over that whole "say one more thing to my daughter and I will smack yo mouf" thingy...
Dropped off Precious Son and went back to Jeff's Car Wash. Apparently the place was back up and running because the line was about a mile long. Realizing time is tick-tocking away, I did what anyone would do, and left...circling around, coming in from the other side from the major road, taking a left into the line because the rest of the people were behind the stop sign, and wound up in about 6th place, as opposed 66th. Hey. It isn't my fault I am THAT smart. Oh, and if the people who realized what I did are reading this, I would like to say I am sorry, but I am not, so I can't lie about it. You see, I am also out of the running for Citizen of the Year after the whole "Yes, you can put the Lafayette Mulch Fundraiser sign in my yard but not the political signs or garage sale signs or have-your-man-love-you-by-losing-weight-with-this-simple-yet-unapproved-by-the-FDA-pill signs" fiasco which may or may not have resulted in someone having a pile of of signs in their front yard denoting above-mentioned garage sale. Hey! It's not my fault I know who you are, you psycho-sign man!
Next.
Left Jeff's and went back to WalMart, and yes, this would be the third trip there, to see if the cake was done. It was!! YAY!! Left WalMart and took cake home.
Sun was shining brightly, drove in shock that I even remembered what the sun looked like.
Babs came over and she and Beautiful Daughter worked in the pink and yellow room while I fixed hotdog chili and a few other things. You see, on Sunday, we are having pork loin, restaurant style potatoes, baked beans, salad, and whatever leftovers we have from the party because Precious Son does not like pork. *feel free to insert groan here, if you are the one in charge of feeding your persnickety eaters, like I am*
Made hotdog chili.
Boiled red potatoes thus beginning Stage 1 of restaurant style potato creation.
Washed lettuce, tomatoes.
Sliced Vidalia onions, tomatoes, green onions, lettuce.
Began baked beans.
Washed dishes as I went along.
Checked the mail. Nothing yet.
Ate some of that chicken I bought four hours ago when I was starving four hours ago.
Set out sturdy plastic plates, cups, forks, knives, spoons.
De-boned the rotisserie chicken.
Kissed Big Daddy goodbye as he left out on his Harley, barely able to contain his excitement about being able to ride...you know, it's been so long thanks to me. =o(
Went to buy movie tickets for the 7:25 show. Thought this to be a grand idea as two weeks ago when "Dear John" came out, I wound up dropping the girls off, picking them up, dropping them off, picking them up, and dropping them off and picking them up because each show was sold out. Not this time!! Fool me once...
Checked the mail. Still nothing.
Cracked ice. Refilled trays because I am a firm believer in putting water in the ice trays after cracking ice. I know. Call me crazy. It's right up there with changing out the toilet paper roll...
Picked up the house, meaning, I arranged the couch pillows because I have a wonderful cleaning lady now and there isn't that much to do.
Looked for my new candle.
Realized while looking for my new candle that I did not know where I put the birthday candles I had just bought.
Looked for birthday candles.
Checked mail. Nothing. Where is he????
Worried that everyone may not like chocolate cake, went back to Walmart and picked up white cake cupcakes. Trip #4.
Took a shower.
Found my new candle, still hunted for birthday candles.
Was finally invited to see Beautiful Daughter's room after she and Babs had worked so hard in it and it was lovely!!!
Big Daddy came home and helped Babs set up Beautiful Daughter's new bed, which was a gift from the most amazingly generous, loving, kind, and gracious person we know.
Becca came over and applied lip plumper on her lips that she bought at Sephora while trying to figure out if the main ingredient is snake venom.
Looked for birthday candles.
Checked mail. Are you freaking kidding me??!!?!?!??!?
Went to pick up Precious Son from school and napped in truck while I waited because by now, say, 4pm, I was exhausted, my back hurt, and I was about to collapse.
Came home, instructed Precious Son to pick up his room.
Mail came. YAY!!
Guests began to arrive at 5:15.
Babs went home to take her son to baseball practice...but she would be back as soon as she could.
Found the birthday candles. YAY!!!
Cracked more ice and STILL put more water in the trays. Rebel.
Put three bags of french fries in the oven.
Had Big Daddy start the grill, for he is the Grill Master.
Precious Son picked up Dylan.
Thanked God for Precious Son passing his driver's road test on the first try after having his appointment cancelled four times due to snow.
Said grace.
Helped 10 teenagers fix their hotdogs, hamburgers, and drinks. Gave them all paper plates.
Fed Big Daddy.
Sat down. Got up. Had realized I HAD purchased sturdy plastic plates and that there was no need to try and fit all that food including baked beans on paper plates!!!
Made kids switch to sturdy plastic plates...yes, at this point it was more for general purposes than need, but...that's me.
Cleaned up.
Packed the truck with giggly girls as they all put on their 3D glasses and headed to the movie theater.
Big Daddy tried to nap before work as several teenage boys played football in the yard and X-Box in the house.
Babs and her son came over and ate dinner. I felt bad because Big Daddy had put everything away while I was running the girls to the movies, and I had to get everything out again. I was afraid he would think I didn't appreciate his help, but I truly, truly did!!
Talked with Babs and son until the other boys took Babs' son away to play games...then talked to Babs. She was getting excited because her hubby, Ken, would be coming home on Sunday and she missed him.
Cracked more ice. Filled more ice trays. Still such the rebel.
Feeling said rebellion, went to bathroom to check the status of the toilet paper roll.
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Changed toilet paper roll.
Texted Lucy and her crew about coming for cake and ice cream.
Brought out Nemo and Dorie cake, took pictures of cake, cupcakes, gift bags, and the like.
Set out the ice cream to soften a bit while Babs and I went to pick up the girls.
Picked up girls and laughed as Lucy and crew went into my house but were convinced no one was there, despite several people being there but too afraid to wake Big Daddy, so they were very, very quiet.
Laughed out loud.
Gathered up girls, headed home from theater.
Wished I had cotton for my ears with that high squeal pitch that only teenage girls can emit...Kind of like bats.
Came home, brought everyone together, sang Happy Birthday to our baby girl.
The joy lasted approximately 15 seconds until T-Hawk blew out her last candle.
Mentally reminisced about how Beautiful Daughter and T-Hawk have been the thorn in each other's side since first grade.
Smiled broadly.
Cut the cake.
Scooped the ice cream.
Poured the drinks.
No one wanted white cake cupcakes.
Beautiful Daughter opened presents and lit up the room with her humor, smile, and graciousness.
Realized I might be biased about my kids.
Kissed Big Daddy goodbye as he went off to work.
Took lots of pictures.
Cleaned up the kitchen, yet again.
Listened as the walls of my home echoed with laughter.
Thanked God for the opportunity to be here...at this time...on this day...
Made "to-go" plates for our guests to take with them, including a dozen, white cake cupcakes.
Began the chauffeur service and took everyone home.
Talked with Babs and went to bed.
Laid in bed, feeling utter fatigue and incredibly blessed for this busy, busy day. The kind of day where I was too busy to have cancer because I was being a wife, mom, friend, chauffeur and WalMart consumer.
Got up to put pork loin in crock pot because it was now going on 1am and we will be eating at noon...
Yep. I just don't have time to have cancer.
Anyway, I woke up around 8 Saturday morning and realized Beautiful Daughter was in my bed. I don't even recall her coming into my room, much less getting into bed. She and Babs had a late night redecorating Beautiful Daughter's bedroom. It looks so lovely. Deep, but bright yellow painted walls, magenta curtains, and a host of vibrant colors in her new comforter set. Pink and yellow...the favorite colors of my parents...
As Beautiful Daughter began to stir, I rubbed her arm and wished her a happy 15th birthday. How did this happen? I just had her... It was a Thursday, she was two weeks late, and the ignorant check-in clerk told me I was not in labor. (She later changed her mind as she dangled from the IV pole...just don't ask how she got up there and you won't have to testify...)
So much to do this gorgeous Saturday as our baby turns fifteen. Her friends will be arriving at 5:30 this afternoon for a cookout, movie (Alice in Wonderland in 3D), and then back home for cake and ice cream... Good thing I got up when I did...
Beautiful Daughter and I got up, got dressed, grabbed the empty propane tank and took it to WalMart for a refill. (This one is our backup tank. You know full well you will run out of gas when you have company over for a cookout and no time to go get a new one without ruining dinner. Fool me once, shame on me...)
Went to Jeff's Car Wash. Wanting to have a clean vehicle for carting and carrying this evening, I thought we would head out there first, you know, before the line got long from all the other people with salt and dried mud on their vehicles.
Jeff's was closed for the next hour. Grrrrrrr. Fine. Too much to do to crack this early.
Went to the bank and made a deposit.
Went to the Party Store because I realized I am an idiot and did not buy enough Nemo and Dorie plates for cake and ice cream. Yes, Nemo. Hey, she's trapped in that world between wanting to be a young woman and wanting to remain a child. I get that and I'm 40-something!
Went back to WalMart to buy groceries for cookout and party. Also bought a chicken. It looked good and I was hungry because by now, it was going on 11.
Came home, put up groceries. Woke up Precious Son because he had to be at school at noon.
Took Precious Son to school after feeding him in the car. Yes, I fed him in the car because I am no longer concerned with the Mother of the Year contest as I was disqualified back in January over that whole "say one more thing to my daughter and I will smack yo mouf" thingy...
Dropped off Precious Son and went back to Jeff's Car Wash. Apparently the place was back up and running because the line was about a mile long. Realizing time is tick-tocking away, I did what anyone would do, and left...circling around, coming in from the other side from the major road, taking a left into the line because the rest of the people were behind the stop sign, and wound up in about 6th place, as opposed 66th. Hey. It isn't my fault I am THAT smart. Oh, and if the people who realized what I did are reading this, I would like to say I am sorry, but I am not, so I can't lie about it. You see, I am also out of the running for Citizen of the Year after the whole "Yes, you can put the Lafayette Mulch Fundraiser sign in my yard but not the political signs or garage sale signs or have-your-man-love-you-by-losing-weight-with-this-simple-yet-unapproved-by-the-FDA-pill signs" fiasco which may or may not have resulted in someone having a pile of of signs in their front yard denoting above-mentioned garage sale. Hey! It's not my fault I know who you are, you psycho-sign man!
Next.
Left Jeff's and went back to WalMart, and yes, this would be the third trip there, to see if the cake was done. It was!! YAY!! Left WalMart and took cake home.
Sun was shining brightly, drove in shock that I even remembered what the sun looked like.
Babs came over and she and Beautiful Daughter worked in the pink and yellow room while I fixed hotdog chili and a few other things. You see, on Sunday, we are having pork loin, restaurant style potatoes, baked beans, salad, and whatever leftovers we have from the party because Precious Son does not like pork. *feel free to insert groan here, if you are the one in charge of feeding your persnickety eaters, like I am*
Made hotdog chili.
Boiled red potatoes thus beginning Stage 1 of restaurant style potato creation.
Washed lettuce, tomatoes.
Sliced Vidalia onions, tomatoes, green onions, lettuce.
Began baked beans.
Washed dishes as I went along.
Checked the mail. Nothing yet.
Ate some of that chicken I bought four hours ago when I was starving four hours ago.
Set out sturdy plastic plates, cups, forks, knives, spoons.
De-boned the rotisserie chicken.
Kissed Big Daddy goodbye as he left out on his Harley, barely able to contain his excitement about being able to ride...you know, it's been so long thanks to me. =o(
Went to buy movie tickets for the 7:25 show. Thought this to be a grand idea as two weeks ago when "Dear John" came out, I wound up dropping the girls off, picking them up, dropping them off, picking them up, and dropping them off and picking them up because each show was sold out. Not this time!! Fool me once...
Checked the mail. Still nothing.
Cracked ice. Refilled trays because I am a firm believer in putting water in the ice trays after cracking ice. I know. Call me crazy. It's right up there with changing out the toilet paper roll...
Picked up the house, meaning, I arranged the couch pillows because I have a wonderful cleaning lady now and there isn't that much to do.
Looked for my new candle.
Realized while looking for my new candle that I did not know where I put the birthday candles I had just bought.
Looked for birthday candles.
Checked mail. Nothing. Where is he????
Worried that everyone may not like chocolate cake, went back to Walmart and picked up white cake cupcakes. Trip #4.
Took a shower.
Found my new candle, still hunted for birthday candles.
Was finally invited to see Beautiful Daughter's room after she and Babs had worked so hard in it and it was lovely!!!
Big Daddy came home and helped Babs set up Beautiful Daughter's new bed, which was a gift from the most amazingly generous, loving, kind, and gracious person we know.
Becca came over and applied lip plumper on her lips that she bought at Sephora while trying to figure out if the main ingredient is snake venom.
Looked for birthday candles.
Checked mail. Are you freaking kidding me??!!?!?!??!?
Went to pick up Precious Son from school and napped in truck while I waited because by now, say, 4pm, I was exhausted, my back hurt, and I was about to collapse.
Came home, instructed Precious Son to pick up his room.
Mail came. YAY!!
Guests began to arrive at 5:15.
Babs went home to take her son to baseball practice...but she would be back as soon as she could.
Found the birthday candles. YAY!!!
Cracked more ice and STILL put more water in the trays. Rebel.
Put three bags of french fries in the oven.
Had Big Daddy start the grill, for he is the Grill Master.
Precious Son picked up Dylan.
Thanked God for Precious Son passing his driver's road test on the first try after having his appointment cancelled four times due to snow.
Said grace.
Helped 10 teenagers fix their hotdogs, hamburgers, and drinks. Gave them all paper plates.
Fed Big Daddy.
Sat down. Got up. Had realized I HAD purchased sturdy plastic plates and that there was no need to try and fit all that food including baked beans on paper plates!!!
Made kids switch to sturdy plastic plates...yes, at this point it was more for general purposes than need, but...that's me.
Cleaned up.
Packed the truck with giggly girls as they all put on their 3D glasses and headed to the movie theater.
Big Daddy tried to nap before work as several teenage boys played football in the yard and X-Box in the house.
Babs and her son came over and ate dinner. I felt bad because Big Daddy had put everything away while I was running the girls to the movies, and I had to get everything out again. I was afraid he would think I didn't appreciate his help, but I truly, truly did!!
Talked with Babs and son until the other boys took Babs' son away to play games...then talked to Babs. She was getting excited because her hubby, Ken, would be coming home on Sunday and she missed him.
Cracked more ice. Filled more ice trays. Still such the rebel.
Feeling said rebellion, went to bathroom to check the status of the toilet paper roll.
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Changed toilet paper roll.
Texted Lucy and her crew about coming for cake and ice cream.
Brought out Nemo and Dorie cake, took pictures of cake, cupcakes, gift bags, and the like.
Set out the ice cream to soften a bit while Babs and I went to pick up the girls.
Picked up girls and laughed as Lucy and crew went into my house but were convinced no one was there, despite several people being there but too afraid to wake Big Daddy, so they were very, very quiet.
Laughed out loud.
Gathered up girls, headed home from theater.
Wished I had cotton for my ears with that high squeal pitch that only teenage girls can emit...Kind of like bats.
Came home, brought everyone together, sang Happy Birthday to our baby girl.
The joy lasted approximately 15 seconds until T-Hawk blew out her last candle.
Mentally reminisced about how Beautiful Daughter and T-Hawk have been the thorn in each other's side since first grade.
Smiled broadly.
Cut the cake.
Scooped the ice cream.
Poured the drinks.
No one wanted white cake cupcakes.
Beautiful Daughter opened presents and lit up the room with her humor, smile, and graciousness.
Realized I might be biased about my kids.
Kissed Big Daddy goodbye as he went off to work.
Took lots of pictures.
Cleaned up the kitchen, yet again.
Listened as the walls of my home echoed with laughter.
Thanked God for the opportunity to be here...at this time...on this day...
Made "to-go" plates for our guests to take with them, including a dozen, white cake cupcakes.
Began the chauffeur service and took everyone home.
Talked with Babs and went to bed.
Laid in bed, feeling utter fatigue and incredibly blessed for this busy, busy day. The kind of day where I was too busy to have cancer because I was being a wife, mom, friend, chauffeur and WalMart consumer.
Got up to put pork loin in crock pot because it was now going on 1am and we will be eating at noon...
Yep. I just don't have time to have cancer.
Wednesday, March 3, 2010
Kimmie Comes to Kentucky!
Steve had emailed me around Thanksgiving asking if I would be up for company after the first of the year. He had wanted to give his wife, Kim, an airline ticket to come and see me. You see, after my diagnosis, Kim just wanted to "hug my neck, look me in the eyes, and tell me she loved me". Seemed like a wish easy enough to grant, so Steve played Santa and arranged everything. I don't recall ever being someone's Christmas present, but I liked it. *smile*
We were all in countdown mode and Kimmie finally arrived this past Friday. She must really love me because she left Florida to come to Kentucky in the dead of winter. It's been about ten years since we have seen each other face to face, but, as it is with friends, you don't have to see each other to know each other, and Kimmie and I know each other very well.
We met in Germany when our husbands were stationed there from 1995-1998. We were fast friends as both were very involved with PWOC (Protestant Women of the Chapel) from the get-go. For me, finding church-related activities and seeking like-minded-church-attendees-who-could-be-my-friend, was very important at every duty station, but even more so in a country where you do not speak the language and the culture is so different.
Big Daddy drove me to the airport because, honestly, if I had to get to the Louisville airport by myself, I would still be driving around there, six days later. Even if I did make it to the airport, I would never find my way home, so Big Daddy just took me. We pulled up to the gate for arrivals and I went inside. I checked the board and the flight was on time. I went over to the escalator and waited to see my friend. We had been texting, so I knew she was on her way, yet, considering my "chemo brain" and knack for getting lost, confused, and so easily disoriented, I went ahead and asked some people...
"Did you just get in from the Tampa flight?"
"Yes, honey."
And so it went...I guess I asked about three people...maybe five. I don't know...I have chemo brain.
After I was convinced I was in the right place, I waited at the bottom of the escalator.
How big was this plane?
What is that, like, a bazillion people already??
C'mon!! Where is she?!?!?
Then, I saw her at the top of the escalator, a smile from ear to ear and we began to wave at each other like we hadn't seen the other one already. I was sure I wouldn't cry because I don't really cry anymore for some reason.
So, I cried.
She cried.
We cried and hugged and she looked me in the eyes and said she loved me and it was awesome.
And so began our visit and it was wonderful. One of the first things Kimmie said was that all she wanted to do was be with me, my family. That she was not interested in a tour of Kentucky or being entertained, she just wanted to be with us. How utterly cool is that?
Big Daddy drove and Kimmie and I sat in the back and just talked and talked and talked. that was basically the whole of what we did the rest of the time, too. Talk, talk, talk. It was so nice. We compared kid stories and husband stories and found out that we are both incredibly blessed with all life has to offer and God has blessed.
We reminisced and simply enjoyed one another's company. I never felt like I should be doing something or going somewhere for her to have a good time, and that was wonderful. If I needed to nap, which I did, she read a book or napped, too... If I felt like I needed to slow down, we slowed down. Kim went with me to my appointments and to run the kids hither and yon. At one point she suggested that my fatigue may be related to the chauffeuring as opposed to the radiation and chemo. LOL True!!
Big Daddy calls Kimmie a "real" friend... I would have asked him what he meant exactly, but I already know, and he is right. A real friend... They are there when things get hard and they are there when your target is showing. They pray for you and they love you, faults and all. They don't just show up when things are good or easy or fun and they don't run away when things go bad. Real friends help you through your vulnerability instead of taking advantage of it.
If you have a real friend, hang onto them. Maybe call them or email them and tell them. You know, we put off an awful lot of stuff because we are convinced we don't have time to do them...and then, time is gone and the moment has passed. Trust me, you have the time to tell someone you love them or care about them or treasure their friendship. Don't wait. If you care deeply for someone, they should know. So go ahead and call...email...text... Let them know no matter how big the target may be, you have their back.
Kimmie, thanks for being my real friend. You are among tremendous company...for I am incredibly blessed with real friends... and to each of you, thank you and I love you.
We were all in countdown mode and Kimmie finally arrived this past Friday. She must really love me because she left Florida to come to Kentucky in the dead of winter. It's been about ten years since we have seen each other face to face, but, as it is with friends, you don't have to see each other to know each other, and Kimmie and I know each other very well.
We met in Germany when our husbands were stationed there from 1995-1998. We were fast friends as both were very involved with PWOC (Protestant Women of the Chapel) from the get-go. For me, finding church-related activities and seeking like-minded-church-attendees-who-could-be-my-friend, was very important at every duty station, but even more so in a country where you do not speak the language and the culture is so different.
Big Daddy drove me to the airport because, honestly, if I had to get to the Louisville airport by myself, I would still be driving around there, six days later. Even if I did make it to the airport, I would never find my way home, so Big Daddy just took me. We pulled up to the gate for arrivals and I went inside. I checked the board and the flight was on time. I went over to the escalator and waited to see my friend. We had been texting, so I knew she was on her way, yet, considering my "chemo brain" and knack for getting lost, confused, and so easily disoriented, I went ahead and asked some people...
"Did you just get in from the Tampa flight?"
"Yes, honey."
And so it went...I guess I asked about three people...maybe five. I don't know...I have chemo brain.
After I was convinced I was in the right place, I waited at the bottom of the escalator.
How big was this plane?
What is that, like, a bazillion people already??
C'mon!! Where is she?!?!?
Then, I saw her at the top of the escalator, a smile from ear to ear and we began to wave at each other like we hadn't seen the other one already. I was sure I wouldn't cry because I don't really cry anymore for some reason.
So, I cried.
She cried.
We cried and hugged and she looked me in the eyes and said she loved me and it was awesome.
And so began our visit and it was wonderful. One of the first things Kimmie said was that all she wanted to do was be with me, my family. That she was not interested in a tour of Kentucky or being entertained, she just wanted to be with us. How utterly cool is that?
Big Daddy drove and Kimmie and I sat in the back and just talked and talked and talked. that was basically the whole of what we did the rest of the time, too. Talk, talk, talk. It was so nice. We compared kid stories and husband stories and found out that we are both incredibly blessed with all life has to offer and God has blessed.
We reminisced and simply enjoyed one another's company. I never felt like I should be doing something or going somewhere for her to have a good time, and that was wonderful. If I needed to nap, which I did, she read a book or napped, too... If I felt like I needed to slow down, we slowed down. Kim went with me to my appointments and to run the kids hither and yon. At one point she suggested that my fatigue may be related to the chauffeuring as opposed to the radiation and chemo. LOL True!!
This morning we took Kimmie to the airport for her return flight to Tampa. It was a terrific visit and I enjoyed my time with her immensely. In her wisdom, Kim also left me a note warning me of satan's desire to ruin everything good that God has done and given to us. Kim says, as we proclaim God's goodness, we define the target on our back. So, so true...
If you have a real friend, hang onto them. Maybe call them or email them and tell them. You know, we put off an awful lot of stuff because we are convinced we don't have time to do them...and then, time is gone and the moment has passed. Trust me, you have the time to tell someone you love them or care about them or treasure their friendship. Don't wait. If you care deeply for someone, they should know. So go ahead and call...email...text... Let them know no matter how big the target may be, you have their back.
Kimmie, thanks for being my real friend. You are among tremendous company...for I am incredibly blessed with real friends... and to each of you, thank you and I love you.
Very Cool, Super Cool, Ultimate Cool
Believe it or not, life goes on whether or not I have cancer, you have a headache, or they have the flu. However, get this...there is goodness everywhere despite the most dire of circumstances. For the record, I don't consider myself in "dire circumstances", I just have cancer, but goodness finds me anyway...
I was playing chauffeur to Beautiful Daughter and her friends. The three giggly girls had just finished a "Zumba" lesson at the church and they were pretty hyped up. Their conversation was audible over the pop music playing and it veered from boys to dance to school and such. A song came on that Beautiful Daughter and I love to "car dance" to. As if on cue, we both hear the song and start our moves. I was sort of taken aback that Beautiful Daughter did not tell me to stop, but she didn't. You just never know with teenagers if your every day action will be viewed as cool or stupid, even though the action does not change...just the audience.
The song played, the volume increased, and we car danced. Beautiful Daughter's friends were singing along and enjoying the show, so to speak. It was so much fun, mostly because I was not shushed or hushed or given the "death stare of embarrassment" to quit. The song ended and the three girls had this conversation...
Melissa: "That was so cool! Your mom is awesome!"
Beautiful Daughter: "Why do you say that?"
Melissa: "Well, my mom never dances in the car or anywhere else with me."
Janie: "Yeah, mine either. She always tells me to sit still and be quiet in the car."
Melissa: "I wish my mom was cool like that."
Beautiful Daughter: "Yeah...my mom's awesome."
Janie: "Your mom is so much fun!"
And the music played on and I smiled a lot as my heart sang. Very cool.
Another cool thing that made me smile was while talking with my friend, Kimmie, who had come to visit me from Florida, which I will write more about later.
We were talking at the kitchen table and she was telling me how she was able to meet Amy Grant, the Christian music star who several of us have loved listening to for years and years. Kimmie showed me pictures of her meeting Amy Grant and how she stood next to her for the "Meet and Greet" so she could crop the others out of the photo, which made me laugh out loud.
As we were talking, Kimmie shared with me the story of "Grace". Grace had confided in Kim throughout their years of friendship, the very difficult life she had growing up. The story touched me deeply as I listened and I decided I wanted to meet her, talk with her, befriend her. I told Kim that I was inspired by this woman's story and hoped we could be friends. Now, this is where it gets super cool... Kimmie says, "you know how meeting Amy Grant meant the world to me, well, Grace feels that way about you...you are her Amy Grant".
I was blown away...humbled, touched, and absolutely blown away.
Wow.
Now, I know that there are more of you that are not "followers" who read my blog regularly, than are actual followers, thanks to how many "hits" my website receives...plus the personal emails and phone calls saying some of you just cannot figure out how to become a follower, which still makes me laugh. (Go to Google.com and open a google email account called g-mail, then you can post comments and become a follower.) Anyway, Grace is one of my followers who is out there and I don't know it. Sometimes I wonder if anyone is still out there reading what I write. Some of you are certainly still out there because when I go for a few days without posting, I get an email or phone call wondering why. That, too, is terribly cool.
I will apologize for not writing as regularly as I used to. The radiation fatigue is very different from the hard chemo fatigue. With the hard chemo, I didn't have the strength to get out of bed. With the radiation fatigue, I do not have the stamina or endurance to stay awake for long periods of time. I can go for a couple of hours and then I basically hit the wall and fall asleep. It has made accomplishing anything difficult... Plus, as I mentioned, I had company the past few days and I will blog about that next time. Y'all know I have to go in order. LOL
The last cool thing I wanted to share is that Big Daddy and I were having dinner the other night and he put his fork down and just looked at me. Of course, being the blushing bobblehead that I am around him, I just giggled "what?" to which he replied...
"I love loving you."
Now, that's the ultimate cool.
I was playing chauffeur to Beautiful Daughter and her friends. The three giggly girls had just finished a "Zumba" lesson at the church and they were pretty hyped up. Their conversation was audible over the pop music playing and it veered from boys to dance to school and such. A song came on that Beautiful Daughter and I love to "car dance" to. As if on cue, we both hear the song and start our moves. I was sort of taken aback that Beautiful Daughter did not tell me to stop, but she didn't. You just never know with teenagers if your every day action will be viewed as cool or stupid, even though the action does not change...just the audience.
The song played, the volume increased, and we car danced. Beautiful Daughter's friends were singing along and enjoying the show, so to speak. It was so much fun, mostly because I was not shushed or hushed or given the "death stare of embarrassment" to quit. The song ended and the three girls had this conversation...
Melissa: "That was so cool! Your mom is awesome!"
Beautiful Daughter: "Why do you say that?"
Melissa: "Well, my mom never dances in the car or anywhere else with me."
Janie: "Yeah, mine either. She always tells me to sit still and be quiet in the car."
Melissa: "I wish my mom was cool like that."
Beautiful Daughter: "Yeah...my mom's awesome."
Janie: "Your mom is so much fun!"
And the music played on and I smiled a lot as my heart sang. Very cool.
Another cool thing that made me smile was while talking with my friend, Kimmie, who had come to visit me from Florida, which I will write more about later.
We were talking at the kitchen table and she was telling me how she was able to meet Amy Grant, the Christian music star who several of us have loved listening to for years and years. Kimmie showed me pictures of her meeting Amy Grant and how she stood next to her for the "Meet and Greet" so she could crop the others out of the photo, which made me laugh out loud.
As we were talking, Kimmie shared with me the story of "Grace". Grace had confided in Kim throughout their years of friendship, the very difficult life she had growing up. The story touched me deeply as I listened and I decided I wanted to meet her, talk with her, befriend her. I told Kim that I was inspired by this woman's story and hoped we could be friends. Now, this is where it gets super cool... Kimmie says, "you know how meeting Amy Grant meant the world to me, well, Grace feels that way about you...you are her Amy Grant".
I was blown away...humbled, touched, and absolutely blown away.
Wow.
Now, I know that there are more of you that are not "followers" who read my blog regularly, than are actual followers, thanks to how many "hits" my website receives...plus the personal emails and phone calls saying some of you just cannot figure out how to become a follower, which still makes me laugh. (Go to Google.com and open a google email account called g-mail, then you can post comments and become a follower.) Anyway, Grace is one of my followers who is out there and I don't know it. Sometimes I wonder if anyone is still out there reading what I write. Some of you are certainly still out there because when I go for a few days without posting, I get an email or phone call wondering why. That, too, is terribly cool.
I will apologize for not writing as regularly as I used to. The radiation fatigue is very different from the hard chemo fatigue. With the hard chemo, I didn't have the strength to get out of bed. With the radiation fatigue, I do not have the stamina or endurance to stay awake for long periods of time. I can go for a couple of hours and then I basically hit the wall and fall asleep. It has made accomplishing anything difficult... Plus, as I mentioned, I had company the past few days and I will blog about that next time. Y'all know I have to go in order. LOL
The last cool thing I wanted to share is that Big Daddy and I were having dinner the other night and he put his fork down and just looked at me. Of course, being the blushing bobblehead that I am around him, I just giggled "what?" to which he replied...
"I love loving you."
Now, that's the ultimate cool.
Monday, March 1, 2010
Ouch, Charlie! That Really Hurts!!
So, the radiation is beginning to be "felt", which is odd when you recall I am numb. Another weird thing while on the subject...how strange is it to have an itch where you are numb? What the heck? Will it go away if I pretend to scratch it? I don't know. So far, I have been scratching, but it's all very peculiar.
So, picture it, a slice of uncooked, raw bacon on a plate in your microwave. Now, you set the time for, oh, I dunno, 30 seconds on HIGH. You hit the start button. The sizzling is heard almost immediately and the smell is very distinct. You get hungry. You want bacon.
Now, picture this...
You are receiving radiation to the area just below where your shoulder meets your collar bone. They lay you on a "plate". They put you in a "microwave" and set the timer for two minutes on HIGH. They hit the start button. While there may not be any "sizzling" heard or any distinct "smell of bacon", you know you are being cooked. You are not hungry. You do not want bacon. Actually, you probably don't want bacon at this point out of a resemblance and distaste, pardon the pun, for cannibalism.
So, that is basically what is happening to the area receiving radiation...my muscles, nerves, tendons, flesh, and whatever else is in there since I majored in Ethics, NOT anatomy, is being microwaved. And, just as the yummy slice of bacon shrinks in the microwave as it cooks, so are my muscles, tendons, and nerves. Thus, the limited mobility we discussed earlier and the need for physical therapy.
My left arm hurts, to say the least. If I extend it, it hurts. If I massage it, it hurts. If I lay on it, it hurts. If I cook or clean or eat, it hurts. It is becoming very easy to see how some people choose to not have physical therapy and do their exercises, thus allowing their muscles to become atrophied. It hurts. I tried to describe the feeling to Big Daddy and all I could come up with is "it feels like my muscles are being ripped, shredded...by someone with very long nails...who hates me".
Ew...and ouch.
Now, I am not a champion, as I have mentioned. I do not thrive on pain. In fact, I don't even like to have a mild headache, so this real pain is really bugging me. I find myself "nursing" my left arm, which is bad. I need to move it, exercise it, not allow it to atrophy. Here's the thing...I won't allow it to atrophy. No, I haven't become some sort of masochist or anything cuckoo like that...I just simply refuse to give cancer anymore than I have already.
Beautiful Daughter asked Big Daddy last night about my arm. She was concerned because she had noticed how often I am massaging it...in church, at lunch, at the computer, while driving, while driving poorly, etc. I know when she goes to him with a question about me, it's because she is scared. Yet another reason I will not give into this... Mess with my kids and someone fierce arrives.
Today is Monday and I meet with Claire, the ASTYM therapist and I am excited about that. At noon, she will be massaging pure cocoa butter into my skin and resculpting my scar tissue in order to preserve my current capabilities and encourage healing of the traumatized muscles and tendons. I love her. She gives me hope. My thing is that if someone can give you hope, you should take it.
See you at noon, Claire.
P.S.
I am attaching the video in case you didn't "get" my title choice. Enjoy! ~Pandora
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_OBlgSz8sSM
Then watch this one...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_2IRaDUhd5Q&feature=related
I am so easily amused... LOL...by grown men...LOL...sitting on each other's laps...LMAO!!!
So, picture it, a slice of uncooked, raw bacon on a plate in your microwave. Now, you set the time for, oh, I dunno, 30 seconds on HIGH. You hit the start button. The sizzling is heard almost immediately and the smell is very distinct. You get hungry. You want bacon.
Now, picture this...
You are receiving radiation to the area just below where your shoulder meets your collar bone. They lay you on a "plate". They put you in a "microwave" and set the timer for two minutes on HIGH. They hit the start button. While there may not be any "sizzling" heard or any distinct "smell of bacon", you know you are being cooked. You are not hungry. You do not want bacon. Actually, you probably don't want bacon at this point out of a resemblance and distaste, pardon the pun, for cannibalism.
So, that is basically what is happening to the area receiving radiation...my muscles, nerves, tendons, flesh, and whatever else is in there since I majored in Ethics, NOT anatomy, is being microwaved. And, just as the yummy slice of bacon shrinks in the microwave as it cooks, so are my muscles, tendons, and nerves. Thus, the limited mobility we discussed earlier and the need for physical therapy.
My left arm hurts, to say the least. If I extend it, it hurts. If I massage it, it hurts. If I lay on it, it hurts. If I cook or clean or eat, it hurts. It is becoming very easy to see how some people choose to not have physical therapy and do their exercises, thus allowing their muscles to become atrophied. It hurts. I tried to describe the feeling to Big Daddy and all I could come up with is "it feels like my muscles are being ripped, shredded...by someone with very long nails...who hates me".
Ew...and ouch.
Now, I am not a champion, as I have mentioned. I do not thrive on pain. In fact, I don't even like to have a mild headache, so this real pain is really bugging me. I find myself "nursing" my left arm, which is bad. I need to move it, exercise it, not allow it to atrophy. Here's the thing...I won't allow it to atrophy. No, I haven't become some sort of masochist or anything cuckoo like that...I just simply refuse to give cancer anymore than I have already.
Beautiful Daughter asked Big Daddy last night about my arm. She was concerned because she had noticed how often I am massaging it...in church, at lunch, at the computer, while driving, while driving poorly, etc. I know when she goes to him with a question about me, it's because she is scared. Yet another reason I will not give into this... Mess with my kids and someone fierce arrives.
Today is Monday and I meet with Claire, the ASTYM therapist and I am excited about that. At noon, she will be massaging pure cocoa butter into my skin and resculpting my scar tissue in order to preserve my current capabilities and encourage healing of the traumatized muscles and tendons. I love her. She gives me hope. My thing is that if someone can give you hope, you should take it.
See you at noon, Claire.
P.S.
I am attaching the video in case you didn't "get" my title choice. Enjoy! ~Pandora
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_OBlgSz8sSM
Then watch this one...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_2IRaDUhd5Q&feature=related
I am so easily amused... LOL...by grown men...LOL...sitting on each other's laps...LMAO!!!
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
Red Beam and Vanilla Pudding Trays
She lay there reading the words above her head... "ISOCENTER CORE RETRIC"
She saw the words every day and never knew what they meant. Obviously it was to mark something of great importance such as where to place the tray of vanilla pudding she passed every morning. Each tray had a last name written on it and hers was never there because it had already been placed in the radiation machine. Of course, the tray did not contain vanilla pudding, but rather a brass configuration of medical proportions that very few people ever understand. Being a radiation-oncologist means you get to arrange the brass configuration for each patient. The fact that every morning she was able to look upon a multi-level cart with trays of vanilla pudding labeled with the names of others meant there were an awful lot of people there for the same reason she was. Throughout the day, one by one, the trays of pudding would disappear as each cancer patient was escorted into the facility room with twelve-inch walls, reinforced with materials to absorb the radiation and not allow it to escape the room...unless, of course, the radiation was leaving with you...in you...
She lay on the table as the technicians checked her. It was the same drill every day as one tech would remove her left arm from the sanitized hospital gown, and place her left hand around the finger-form-fitted bar above her head. Another tech would always have a green, permanent marker with which to re-mark the area to be radiated with big X's. A third tech would tell her to "scooch down" because she never could get in the proper position without "scooching" for some reason. The technicians would initiate idle chatter while the predetermined dosage was input and while her feet were secured with a giant rubber band, so as not to allow any movement. The lights went off as always, and the technicians told her not to move as they left the reinforced room, almost running from what would be emanating from the massive machine. They did manage to say "happy birthday" to her, on their way out. She had almost forgotten about this day.
For the past couple of weeks, she had laid there, not opening her eyes during the treatment for fear of going blind, even though no one told her to close her eyes. She had undoubtedly watched too many made-for-tv movies as a youth for she knew the laser beam would irreversibly damage her vision, her eyes would "freeze like that" if she crossed them, and watching an eclipse would render her blind. Yet today, this day, she kept her eyes open and even dared herself to look up into the "Isocenter Core Retric" itself.
She could see a grid and numbers and letters and how the vanilla pudding had been shaped into an odd design. As she continued to look up into the machine, she could see a line of red, like the red you associate with a laser, marking her body. Seeing her reflection was strange. She had thought it strange for months now, but this time, even more so, perhaps in part because she had become accustomed to the sliced scars across her chest. Perhaps not, as you never really become accustomed to such a sight. She looked up and saw herself in the vanilla pudding, fit perfectly in the crosshairs of the machine, and the noise began.
Not really that like a hum or a ringing or even an engine starting. The sound of the radiation entering her body was more closely described as a low, dull roar with a high pitch signalling the concentration of the energy passing through pudding to body...to where the cancer had grown. Every day, it was just the machine and her for a few minutes. No technicians in the room. No other person allowed. Just her...and the machine that was purposefully mutating and killing parts of her body, her tissue, her muscle and nerves and skin. Killing it to save her.
She watched the red beam and concentrated on her own reflection. Was it working? Was the amount of radiation strong enough? Was this for nothing? Would her arm survive with minimal damage and allow her to fully use it? Is the red light the radiation beam itself and she would actually go blind? It wasn't as if she knew what she was looking at. She was not a radiation-oncologist nor a radiation tech. Had someone told her to keep her eyes closed and she had forgotten? Hopefully not, because she continued to stare upright as the machine lowly roared on.
Her appointment had been sandwiched between two men. They were both kind and friendly, even in the early morning hours. One had dressed casually in jeans every, single day while the other, was obviously working his radiation around his corporate schedule. "Jeans Guy" went at 8am. Her turn was at 8:10am and "Mr. Corporate" was at 8:20. This went on for weeks until one day, Jeans Guy didn't come. Maybe he had finished his radiation cycle. Maybe he changed his appointment time. Maybe he was dead. Oddly enough, neither she nor Mr. Corporate ever acknowledged Jeans Guy was gone or that their own appointment times had moved up. Perhaps they both thought that "not knowing and guessing" was better than "knowing and it being bad".
The machine cut off and she was still staring into the Isocenter, looking at all she could see, not knowing what any of it was. The technicians came back in. Their mood, chipper and happy, as always, was greatly appreciated. The instructions were given to "relax your arm" and as routine as brushing your teeth every morning, one of the techs stood beside her, offering her arm to help her sit up. The giant rubber band came off the feet and the gown was back on. Each happy and cancer-free free tech offered a "Have a great day and we will see you tomorrow" as one of them removed her vanilla pudding and replaced her tray with someone else's...and she left the reinforced room.
After having removed her gown in the changing "closet", she stopped before putting her clothes back on. There was a full length mirror in there which she had seen before, but today, she stood before it half naked, fully exposed to herself, seeing the scars which have the ability to define her, if she lets them. She stood there, silently, unwilling to move, staring at her reflection. The same reflection she had just seen while beneath the machine in the reinforced room...
Who was that staring back?
Wife?
Mother?
Christian?
Cancer patient?
Cancer survivor?
Friend?
Auntie?
Sister?
Daughter?
Control Freak?
Chef?
Public Speaker?
Author?
Critic?
Photographer?
College Professor?
Impatient Driver?
Defender of Children?
Text-A-Holic?
Dreamer?
Laundress?
Lover of Girl Scout Cookies?
Smartass?
Military Analyst?
Penny Pincher?
Spoiler of Children and Teens?
Ice Cream Connoisseur?
Color-Coordinated Fashionista?
Not today...
Advocate?
Sinner?
Co-Worker?
Cheerleader?
Event Planner?
Singer?
Poet?
Cleaning Lady?
Creative Writer?
Secret Keeper?
Crafter?
Mentor?
Painter?
Listener?
Anti-Abortionist?
Artist?
Homework Checker?
Musician?
Dog Walker?
Chauffeur?
Moon Starer?
Cuddler?
Hugger?
Lover?
Entrepreneur?
Email Checker?
Reader?
Blogger?
Detail-Oriented-Calendar-Toting-Scheduler?
Dancer?
Prancer?
Vixen?
She stood transfixed, staring at her own reflection and saw each of those people step up and claim their right to be there.
She put her clothes back on, placed the hospital gown in the proper receptacle and stepped out of the changing closet.
A smile crept across her face as she realized, in all finality, that no, those scars would never define her...that today was her birthday for she had learned to celebrate the gift of life.
She saw the words every day and never knew what they meant. Obviously it was to mark something of great importance such as where to place the tray of vanilla pudding she passed every morning. Each tray had a last name written on it and hers was never there because it had already been placed in the radiation machine. Of course, the tray did not contain vanilla pudding, but rather a brass configuration of medical proportions that very few people ever understand. Being a radiation-oncologist means you get to arrange the brass configuration for each patient. The fact that every morning she was able to look upon a multi-level cart with trays of vanilla pudding labeled with the names of others meant there were an awful lot of people there for the same reason she was. Throughout the day, one by one, the trays of pudding would disappear as each cancer patient was escorted into the facility room with twelve-inch walls, reinforced with materials to absorb the radiation and not allow it to escape the room...unless, of course, the radiation was leaving with you...in you...
She lay on the table as the technicians checked her. It was the same drill every day as one tech would remove her left arm from the sanitized hospital gown, and place her left hand around the finger-form-fitted bar above her head. Another tech would always have a green, permanent marker with which to re-mark the area to be radiated with big X's. A third tech would tell her to "scooch down" because she never could get in the proper position without "scooching" for some reason. The technicians would initiate idle chatter while the predetermined dosage was input and while her feet were secured with a giant rubber band, so as not to allow any movement. The lights went off as always, and the technicians told her not to move as they left the reinforced room, almost running from what would be emanating from the massive machine. They did manage to say "happy birthday" to her, on their way out. She had almost forgotten about this day.
For the past couple of weeks, she had laid there, not opening her eyes during the treatment for fear of going blind, even though no one told her to close her eyes. She had undoubtedly watched too many made-for-tv movies as a youth for she knew the laser beam would irreversibly damage her vision, her eyes would "freeze like that" if she crossed them, and watching an eclipse would render her blind. Yet today, this day, she kept her eyes open and even dared herself to look up into the "Isocenter Core Retric" itself.
She could see a grid and numbers and letters and how the vanilla pudding had been shaped into an odd design. As she continued to look up into the machine, she could see a line of red, like the red you associate with a laser, marking her body. Seeing her reflection was strange. She had thought it strange for months now, but this time, even more so, perhaps in part because she had become accustomed to the sliced scars across her chest. Perhaps not, as you never really become accustomed to such a sight. She looked up and saw herself in the vanilla pudding, fit perfectly in the crosshairs of the machine, and the noise began.
Not really that like a hum or a ringing or even an engine starting. The sound of the radiation entering her body was more closely described as a low, dull roar with a high pitch signalling the concentration of the energy passing through pudding to body...to where the cancer had grown. Every day, it was just the machine and her for a few minutes. No technicians in the room. No other person allowed. Just her...and the machine that was purposefully mutating and killing parts of her body, her tissue, her muscle and nerves and skin. Killing it to save her.
She watched the red beam and concentrated on her own reflection. Was it working? Was the amount of radiation strong enough? Was this for nothing? Would her arm survive with minimal damage and allow her to fully use it? Is the red light the radiation beam itself and she would actually go blind? It wasn't as if she knew what she was looking at. She was not a radiation-oncologist nor a radiation tech. Had someone told her to keep her eyes closed and she had forgotten? Hopefully not, because she continued to stare upright as the machine lowly roared on.
Her appointment had been sandwiched between two men. They were both kind and friendly, even in the early morning hours. One had dressed casually in jeans every, single day while the other, was obviously working his radiation around his corporate schedule. "Jeans Guy" went at 8am. Her turn was at 8:10am and "Mr. Corporate" was at 8:20. This went on for weeks until one day, Jeans Guy didn't come. Maybe he had finished his radiation cycle. Maybe he changed his appointment time. Maybe he was dead. Oddly enough, neither she nor Mr. Corporate ever acknowledged Jeans Guy was gone or that their own appointment times had moved up. Perhaps they both thought that "not knowing and guessing" was better than "knowing and it being bad".
The machine cut off and she was still staring into the Isocenter, looking at all she could see, not knowing what any of it was. The technicians came back in. Their mood, chipper and happy, as always, was greatly appreciated. The instructions were given to "relax your arm" and as routine as brushing your teeth every morning, one of the techs stood beside her, offering her arm to help her sit up. The giant rubber band came off the feet and the gown was back on. Each happy and cancer-free free tech offered a "Have a great day and we will see you tomorrow" as one of them removed her vanilla pudding and replaced her tray with someone else's...and she left the reinforced room.
After having removed her gown in the changing "closet", she stopped before putting her clothes back on. There was a full length mirror in there which she had seen before, but today, she stood before it half naked, fully exposed to herself, seeing the scars which have the ability to define her, if she lets them. She stood there, silently, unwilling to move, staring at her reflection. The same reflection she had just seen while beneath the machine in the reinforced room...
Who was that staring back?
Wife?
Mother?
Christian?
Cancer patient?
Cancer survivor?
Friend?
Auntie?
Sister?
Daughter?
Control Freak?
Chef?
Public Speaker?
Author?
Critic?
Photographer?
College Professor?
Impatient Driver?
Defender of Children?
Text-A-Holic?
Dreamer?
Laundress?
Lover of Girl Scout Cookies?
Smartass?
Military Analyst?
Penny Pincher?
Spoiler of Children and Teens?
Ice Cream Connoisseur?
Color-Coordinated Fashionista?
Not today...
Advocate?
Sinner?
Co-Worker?
Cheerleader?
Event Planner?
Singer?
Poet?
Cleaning Lady?
Creative Writer?
Secret Keeper?
Crafter?
Mentor?
Painter?
Listener?
Anti-Abortionist?
Artist?
Homework Checker?
Musician?
Dog Walker?
Chauffeur?
Moon Starer?
Cuddler?
Hugger?
Lover?
Entrepreneur?
Email Checker?
Reader?
Blogger?
Detail-Oriented-Calendar-Toting-Scheduler?
Dancer?
Prancer?
Vixen?
She stood transfixed, staring at her own reflection and saw each of those people step up and claim their right to be there.
She put her clothes back on, placed the hospital gown in the proper receptacle and stepped out of the changing closet.
A smile crept across her face as she realized, in all finality, that no, those scars would never define her...that today was her birthday for she had learned to celebrate the gift of life.
Sunday, February 21, 2010
Happy Birthday to ME!!!!
February is a big month for me. There is Valentine's Day, our wedding anniversary, and my birthday. Now, to be honest with you, I generally do not want to discuss my birthday, much less celebrate it.
Allow me to enlighten you...
Big Daddy and I met when he was a Big Kid. I was older than he was and just always felt "weird" about it. We worked at the same place in a very small town. I had gone back there after college to "find myself", thinking maybe to be where my parents had last lived and had raised me, I would find some peace. Instead, I found this self-assured kid with big plans for his future. He was getting out of that small town and joining the military. His mom even told me once that he had wanted to be a soldier since he could speak and that was all he ever spoke about.
No one knew we were dating because there were policies in place to prevent such nonsense as management dating non-management. I'll tell you what, to this day, remembering the looks on the faces of the people we worked with when we announced our engagement was priceless. LOL One older woman came up to me later that same day and said, "I didn't even know y'all knew each other!" God love her heart.
So, I was/am older than Big Daddy. We have been married for almost twenty years and you would think I would be over that insecurity by now. It's obviously not some fling. I always thought that women who married younger men were viewed as "cradle robbers" or "cougars". I was neither. I was tricked!
Big Daddy led me to believe he was a college student and so, we discussed college-y things. Eventually we even attended college together as I wanted to pursue my next career...whatever it was. We fell in love, neither of us concerned with something as trivial as "age". When we did figure it out, as with true love, it was too late. *smile* We dated secretly for two years and he eventually went into the military. I was always so concerned with everyone knowing our timeline so they would not think we "had" to get married because that would mean I had trapped him.
God, was I that horrible??? That old, cradle-robbing broad!
Next question...where did these thoughts even come from to begin with?!?!?!?
Anyway, here is the timeline that I have wanted to publish/yell/screenprint across all shirts and cute, little tops:
November 1991 - Big Daddy joins the Army leaves for Ft. Benning, Georgia while I live and work in Virginia by myself...
December 24, 1991 - Big Daddy proposes (I say yes)...awwww
February 21, 1992 - (Friday) I arrive in Georgia from Virginia to see Big Daddy graduate from Basic Training at Ft. Benning
February 22, 1992 - (Saturday) Big Daddy & I drive back to Virginia from Georgia to have our wedding rehearsal Saturday evening
February 23, 1992 - (Sunday) Big Daddy & I are married (YAY!!!)
February 24, 1992 - (Monday) My birthday and we get pregnant (date is according to the OB-GYN calendar no one understands how to use except OB-GYN's and I think they are faking it)
February 28, 1992 - (Friday) Big Daddy deploys to the South Korean DMZ as his first tour of duty. (Yes, as in one week from his graduating and five days after our wedding)
November 19, 1992 - Precious Son is born (please use your fingers to count that is exactly nine months from our wedding date...there was no entrapment, no cougaring, no way I was pregnant before the wedding if he was in Georgia and I was in Virginia, so I can let this go!)
February 26, 1993 - Big Daddy comes home to Virginia and meets his son for the first time.
Ok. So, obviously I was not pregnant when we got married. So why would I continually torture myself with having to prove this marriage was real and viable and not a fling?
I dunno.
All I have ever come up with is that people doubt the authenticity of this marriage because I am older than my husband. Twenty years later seems to make no difference. I still worry that people will think I trapped him. Ugh. What is wrong with me???? Who cares what other people think, anyway??!?!?!?
Oh, yeah. That would be me.
I have lied about my age so much that honestly, I could not tell you how old I am without thinking about it. I just wanted people to like me, like Big Daddy, and like "us" without having anyone judge us. Oh, if only I could have all THAT energy back!
Well, things change.
If there is someone or even a lot of someones out there who think I am a horrible person because I married the man I loved, then so be it. I cannot change your mind and I no longer care what you think. You have the timeline above to reference, proving there was no entrapment. We literally got married because we loved each other. No drama. Just love. So, instead of worrying about the why's and why not's of our marriage, perhaps time would be better spent if you concentrated on your marriage, or lack thereof, instead of ours. Thank you.
Phew. That felt good.
Secondly, I have been given surprise birthday parties here and there and was always too afraid to enjoy them because I was so worried people would figure out my secret...that I am older than my husband. The shame! I have recoiled and shuddered and broken out in a sweat when asked my age, my husband's age, or how old our oldest is because I knew people were doing the math.
Well, granted, I am older than Big Daddy, so you got me there, but Precious Son was honestly and truly conceived after the "I do's". (reference above timeline if still in denial)
So, here we are, rapidly approaching another February 24th, another birthday to catapult me even further from Big Daddy's age because his birthday isn't until April. However, this birthday is different...
This birthday comes on the heels of a cancer diagnosis that makes birthdays something to wish for, not to hide from. This was brought to my attention last night as I was given my very first surprise party with my new life view and the blessings of cancer.
We were invited to Babs' house for dinner. She has been wanting us to come over there for a couple of weeks now and our schedules just would not cooperate. Well, she offered to make meatloaf, my favorite, and so schedules were changed and we agreed to be there at 6:30 for dinner.
Mmmmm. Meatloaf, mashed potatoes (real ones, not from a box), green beans, corn on the cob, and Key Lime pie for dessert (my contribution). I ate lightly all day because of what dinner would bring. I was starving at 6 and at 6:15, we headed on over to Babs' house. She had asked me to call her when we were on our way so she could put the bread in the oven. Mmmmmm, bread...
So, we pulled out of the driveway and I called. She scolded me for being late (although I do not think ten minutes is late when you consider how late we normally are) and we headed on over. Big Daddy asked what we were having and I told him and just saying the menu items made me even more hungry than before. We pulled into the driveway and I think I almost ran to the door!
I opened the door and lo and behold if all our friends weren't standing there yelling "Happy Birthday, Pandora!!!!!"
What?!?!?!?!?!?
First of all, I have never been surprised because I always figure stuff out before the big day, and here I was, not only surprised, but flabbergasted. Everyone just smiled these huge smiles and a few jumped up and down and everyone was so happy...so happy for my birthday. It was an incredible moment of confusion, excitement, and pleasure to even have another birthday. Not too many months ago, I wasn't sure I would...
There were all sorts of wonderful things for me and all in pink!! A pink butterfly-adorned magic wand, a pink boa, pink gloves with sparklies, a pink sash, pink balloons, pink plates, napkins, and cups, and although horribly gaudy, a bombastic pink hat with candles on top of it that would help with an insanity plea in any court. In other words, it was fantabulous!!!
My birthday cake was from one of the most delicious bakeries in town and it was devils food cake with cream cheese icing...my favorite!!!! The cake was beautiful with a pink crown with pink jewels encrusted and shiny and edible! LOL This cake was the most lovely I have ever had in my honor...and I was truly humbled by the love for each person standing with me as I blew out my candles.
There was a UK basketball game on and we all watched it together after we had eaten our fill of all the best finger foods in the world, another favorite!!! Meatballs, mini corn dogs, flautas, fresh guacamole, spinach dip, veggie tray, 7-layer dip and chips, sausage balls, pigs in a blanket, and a host of other dishes I never even saw because I was staring at my cake. hahaha
I was showered with love and affection and our team even won! (I love a close game IF we win...LOL...and it was cuh-lose!) Everyone was in high spirits and the cake had been cut and joined by huge scoops of ice cream, and all was well with the world...and then it happened...
Babs brought out the book with the year of my birth on it and opened it up so the rest of the people could see the year...that year long, long ago...the year of my birth...the year of my birth before Big Daddy's...I was terrified.
Babs read how much a house back then cost as opposed to today...how much the annual income was back then as opposed to today...how the other cave people sharpened their tools back then as opposed to today... You get the drift...but something happened inside my head. I knew I couldn't get out of it and I would just have to fess up if asked...
No one asked.
Not one person asked if I was older than Big Daddy.
Not one person left.
Not one person asked for their friendship back because of my age.
Not one person said anything like "Damn you, cradle robber!"
Not one person said anything other than "Hey, I'll bet this birthday means a lot to you, and it should...they all should from here on out."
And so they should.
From this birthday on, I will treasure each one God gives to me and not hide it or deny it. Big Daddy will never catch up to me, for sure, however, he looks much older than me, so it all works out. ROTFLOL
Just kidding... *wink*
I had entertained the idea of saying I was much older than I really am so that others could say... "Now, that's what 60 should look like!", but I thought better of it because crap like that always backfires.
So, as the 24th approaches this week, please take time to think, not of my birthday, but yours. Realize it is a blessing to have one and embrace it. God gave you another birthday...that makes it a gift. I feel great relief as the secret of my age is no longer a secret I keep. If anyone has an issue with me being older than Big Daddy and our twenty year marriage, two children, and more blessings than anyone deserves, have at it...and I will pray for you, as one nutcase prays for another.
Cancer, again, has given me more than it will ever take away.
Happy Birthday to ME!
Allow me to enlighten you...
Big Daddy and I met when he was a Big Kid. I was older than he was and just always felt "weird" about it. We worked at the same place in a very small town. I had gone back there after college to "find myself", thinking maybe to be where my parents had last lived and had raised me, I would find some peace. Instead, I found this self-assured kid with big plans for his future. He was getting out of that small town and joining the military. His mom even told me once that he had wanted to be a soldier since he could speak and that was all he ever spoke about.
No one knew we were dating because there were policies in place to prevent such nonsense as management dating non-management. I'll tell you what, to this day, remembering the looks on the faces of the people we worked with when we announced our engagement was priceless. LOL One older woman came up to me later that same day and said, "I didn't even know y'all knew each other!" God love her heart.
So, I was/am older than Big Daddy. We have been married for almost twenty years and you would think I would be over that insecurity by now. It's obviously not some fling. I always thought that women who married younger men were viewed as "cradle robbers" or "cougars". I was neither. I was tricked!
Big Daddy led me to believe he was a college student and so, we discussed college-y things. Eventually we even attended college together as I wanted to pursue my next career...whatever it was. We fell in love, neither of us concerned with something as trivial as "age". When we did figure it out, as with true love, it was too late. *smile* We dated secretly for two years and he eventually went into the military. I was always so concerned with everyone knowing our timeline so they would not think we "had" to get married because that would mean I had trapped him.
God, was I that horrible??? That old, cradle-robbing broad!
Next question...where did these thoughts even come from to begin with?!?!?!?
Anyway, here is the timeline that I have wanted to publish/yell/screenprint across all shirts and cute, little tops:
November 1991 - Big Daddy joins the Army leaves for Ft. Benning, Georgia while I live and work in Virginia by myself...
December 24, 1991 - Big Daddy proposes (I say yes)...awwww
February 21, 1992 - (Friday) I arrive in Georgia from Virginia to see Big Daddy graduate from Basic Training at Ft. Benning
February 22, 1992 - (Saturday) Big Daddy & I drive back to Virginia from Georgia to have our wedding rehearsal Saturday evening
February 23, 1992 - (Sunday) Big Daddy & I are married (YAY!!!)
February 24, 1992 - (Monday) My birthday and we get pregnant (date is according to the OB-GYN calendar no one understands how to use except OB-GYN's and I think they are faking it)
February 28, 1992 - (Friday) Big Daddy deploys to the South Korean DMZ as his first tour of duty. (Yes, as in one week from his graduating and five days after our wedding)
November 19, 1992 - Precious Son is born (please use your fingers to count that is exactly nine months from our wedding date...there was no entrapment, no cougaring, no way I was pregnant before the wedding if he was in Georgia and I was in Virginia, so I can let this go!)
February 26, 1993 - Big Daddy comes home to Virginia and meets his son for the first time.
Ok. So, obviously I was not pregnant when we got married. So why would I continually torture myself with having to prove this marriage was real and viable and not a fling?
I dunno.
All I have ever come up with is that people doubt the authenticity of this marriage because I am older than my husband. Twenty years later seems to make no difference. I still worry that people will think I trapped him. Ugh. What is wrong with me???? Who cares what other people think, anyway??!?!?!?
Oh, yeah. That would be me.
I have lied about my age so much that honestly, I could not tell you how old I am without thinking about it. I just wanted people to like me, like Big Daddy, and like "us" without having anyone judge us. Oh, if only I could have all THAT energy back!
Well, things change.
If there is someone or even a lot of someones out there who think I am a horrible person because I married the man I loved, then so be it. I cannot change your mind and I no longer care what you think. You have the timeline above to reference, proving there was no entrapment. We literally got married because we loved each other. No drama. Just love. So, instead of worrying about the why's and why not's of our marriage, perhaps time would be better spent if you concentrated on your marriage, or lack thereof, instead of ours. Thank you.
Phew. That felt good.
Secondly, I have been given surprise birthday parties here and there and was always too afraid to enjoy them because I was so worried people would figure out my secret...that I am older than my husband. The shame! I have recoiled and shuddered and broken out in a sweat when asked my age, my husband's age, or how old our oldest is because I knew people were doing the math.
Well, granted, I am older than Big Daddy, so you got me there, but Precious Son was honestly and truly conceived after the "I do's". (reference above timeline if still in denial)
So, here we are, rapidly approaching another February 24th, another birthday to catapult me even further from Big Daddy's age because his birthday isn't until April. However, this birthday is different...
This birthday comes on the heels of a cancer diagnosis that makes birthdays something to wish for, not to hide from. This was brought to my attention last night as I was given my very first surprise party with my new life view and the blessings of cancer.
We were invited to Babs' house for dinner. She has been wanting us to come over there for a couple of weeks now and our schedules just would not cooperate. Well, she offered to make meatloaf, my favorite, and so schedules were changed and we agreed to be there at 6:30 for dinner.
Mmmmm. Meatloaf, mashed potatoes (real ones, not from a box), green beans, corn on the cob, and Key Lime pie for dessert (my contribution). I ate lightly all day because of what dinner would bring. I was starving at 6 and at 6:15, we headed on over to Babs' house. She had asked me to call her when we were on our way so she could put the bread in the oven. Mmmmmm, bread...
So, we pulled out of the driveway and I called. She scolded me for being late (although I do not think ten minutes is late when you consider how late we normally are) and we headed on over. Big Daddy asked what we were having and I told him and just saying the menu items made me even more hungry than before. We pulled into the driveway and I think I almost ran to the door!
I opened the door and lo and behold if all our friends weren't standing there yelling "Happy Birthday, Pandora!!!!!"
What?!?!?!?!?!?
First of all, I have never been surprised because I always figure stuff out before the big day, and here I was, not only surprised, but flabbergasted. Everyone just smiled these huge smiles and a few jumped up and down and everyone was so happy...so happy for my birthday. It was an incredible moment of confusion, excitement, and pleasure to even have another birthday. Not too many months ago, I wasn't sure I would...
There were all sorts of wonderful things for me and all in pink!! A pink butterfly-adorned magic wand, a pink boa, pink gloves with sparklies, a pink sash, pink balloons, pink plates, napkins, and cups, and although horribly gaudy, a bombastic pink hat with candles on top of it that would help with an insanity plea in any court. In other words, it was fantabulous!!!
My birthday cake was from one of the most delicious bakeries in town and it was devils food cake with cream cheese icing...my favorite!!!! The cake was beautiful with a pink crown with pink jewels encrusted and shiny and edible! LOL This cake was the most lovely I have ever had in my honor...and I was truly humbled by the love for each person standing with me as I blew out my candles.
There was a UK basketball game on and we all watched it together after we had eaten our fill of all the best finger foods in the world, another favorite!!! Meatballs, mini corn dogs, flautas, fresh guacamole, spinach dip, veggie tray, 7-layer dip and chips, sausage balls, pigs in a blanket, and a host of other dishes I never even saw because I was staring at my cake. hahaha
I was showered with love and affection and our team even won! (I love a close game IF we win...LOL...and it was cuh-lose!) Everyone was in high spirits and the cake had been cut and joined by huge scoops of ice cream, and all was well with the world...and then it happened...
Babs brought out the book with the year of my birth on it and opened it up so the rest of the people could see the year...that year long, long ago...the year of my birth...the year of my birth before Big Daddy's...I was terrified.
Babs read how much a house back then cost as opposed to today...how much the annual income was back then as opposed to today...how the other cave people sharpened their tools back then as opposed to today... You get the drift...but something happened inside my head. I knew I couldn't get out of it and I would just have to fess up if asked...
No one asked.
Not one person asked if I was older than Big Daddy.
Not one person left.
Not one person asked for their friendship back because of my age.
Not one person said anything like "Damn you, cradle robber!"
Not one person said anything other than "Hey, I'll bet this birthday means a lot to you, and it should...they all should from here on out."
And so they should.
From this birthday on, I will treasure each one God gives to me and not hide it or deny it. Big Daddy will never catch up to me, for sure, however, he looks much older than me, so it all works out. ROTFLOL
Just kidding... *wink*
I had entertained the idea of saying I was much older than I really am so that others could say... "Now, that's what 60 should look like!", but I thought better of it because crap like that always backfires.
So, as the 24th approaches this week, please take time to think, not of my birthday, but yours. Realize it is a blessing to have one and embrace it. God gave you another birthday...that makes it a gift. I feel great relief as the secret of my age is no longer a secret I keep. If anyone has an issue with me being older than Big Daddy and our twenty year marriage, two children, and more blessings than anyone deserves, have at it...and I will pray for you, as one nutcase prays for another.
Cancer, again, has given me more than it will ever take away.
Happy Birthday to ME!
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