Chemo #3 - All Systems Go!

Had a good appointment with Dr. Horn yesterday as he reviewed my blood work from the morning. He even said he was "very impressed" with how well I am doing and with the "rapidity of rebound for my white cells to reproduce". Sounded like a lot of "r" words to me, but as long as he was very impressed", it's all good. You know I hunger for any sort of praise. LOL

Babs went with me yesterday for my chemo and stayed with me all day. Big Daddy had an appointment in Louisville he could not miss for our business. It practically killed him to not be able to go with me, but since they changed my appointment from Thursday to Friday, we just had to go with the flow. I was absolutely fine with Big Daddy getting a break from the medical appointments and arena, but he felt bad. Babs took the day off from work and we were able to visit unencumbered, which I must confess, was wonderfully nice. No places to be, no errands to run, and no way to escape for about 4 hours. We talked and talked and talked. It was so nice.

Time flew as Babs and I talked and shared. Having been friends for ten years, one might think we would run out of things to talk about, but no. In fact, when the alarm beeped indicating my last IV bag was completely empty, we were shocked that time had flown by so quickly! Babs had bought my favorite magazines and we didn't even get to look at them. It was a wonderful visit even if it did not boast the most lovely ambiance.

The doctor and nurses changed up my anti-nausea regimen in hopes that THIS combo will help with the side effects this go 'round. We shall see. I am very hopeful from the way they explained it. I am even more hopeful, however, that as I complete the "hard chemo", that the Herceptin will not have the side effects I am now experiencing. That's the word on the street, so I basically have all my eggs in one basket. I do this a lot and it rarely serves me well, but I have tremendous difficulty accepting things that alter my plans. I am a planner. I do not like surprises. I believe what people tell me. And, like I said, this rarely has served me well...and yet I continue to bank on it anyway. We shall see if what I have heard about only being on Herceptin chemo is true or not...and man, I hope it is.

So, the side effects from the last treatment were more intense and lasted longer. We knew about the cumulative effects and none of them were an exaggeration. Hard to believe, but true. I am assuming my return trip to "death warmed over" should hit tomorrow (Sunday), so I may not be on here much, if at all. No telling how long it will be before the "upswing" this time, if we continue to add days onto the rebound time. I guess we will just have to wait and see. Just don't give up on me...I will be back.

To all those praying for me and my family...again, I thank you. I have no idea how people go through life without God and a relationship with Him. I mean, I know they do, but why would you? Anyway, your prayers are heard as we are consistently and constantly being lifted up. We, as a family, could not be more more humbled...and I, as your friend, could not be more moved. Thank you...truly, deeply, and without end, for caring enough about us to pray for us. God listens and has taken us under His wing and showed us His mercy, grace, and provision while blessing us tremendously.

The blessings of cancer. Who would of thought?

Don't Stop Believin'

I read an interview with Elizabeth Edwards and while I cannot quote her verbatim, she did say one thing that has stuck in my mind since I heard it...

"I have stopped believing God is going to cure me of cancer, but I do believe He will give me the strength to endure what time I have left."

What?

How do you stop believing? It isn't even that I DO believe God will cure her or anybody else, for that matter. I know He can, but I also know that His plans and our plans are rarely the same. I do not try and figure out God. I really don't even recall ever asking God "why" or "why not" in my life. I just trust Him. I have asked those questions of myself a lot of times... "Why did I do this?" or "Why didn't I do that?" I have had sooooooooooo many opportunities to ask myself why I did something or said something...but I just don't recall asking God about His agenda.

Do I believe God is in the process of curing me of all cancer for the rest of my life?

I never really thought about it until Elizabeth Edwards said she had stopped. Then, I thought, "WOW! I am in total denial because I have not even addressed the possibility that my cancer can come back." Elizabeth Edwards' cancer came back in her bones, thus inoperable, and her prognosis is not good from a medical standpoint. I get that. What I do not "get" is how you can just stop believing that God is finished with your recovery and you need to pack it up, get that last will and testament notarized, and tell your family and friends "Love you! Bye."

I have no plans to do any of that. (Well, we have our last will and testament because that is the responsible thing to do, especially as a parent, but you get my point.) You see, when I think of my future, I do not see cancer returning. I am not planning on it. I am not preparing for it. I am not even entertaining the thought. When it comes to my future and cancer, there is only my future. I have zero, nada, zilch plans of ever, EVER doing this again. I'm done.

Now, is there a chance of my cancer coming back? I guess so. Sure. Will it? No. As I have said before, I HAVE THINGS TO DO!!! Children to watch graduate...attend Big Daddy's promotions...weddings to plan...new cars to buy (a deal we have when they graduate from college)...cross-country rides on a Harley to take...grandbabies to rock...stories to publish...students to teach...photographs to take...and yes, flowers to smell.

I read the Elizabeth Edwards interview a few days ago and honestly, it has taken me this long to write about it. I am not sure why what she said struck me the way it did, but it made me almost defiant. I do not question God. I do believe God can heal me...which is not the same thing as believing God has healed me. I just do not think past this bout with cancer... I know that God has placed me in the hands of incredible surgeons, physicians, nurses, and medical staff... I know that God has helped me heal rapidly from the surgeries and such... I know God has never once, not once, left my family or me to fend for ourselves... I know that God has brought people to us that we may never have known, but are better for knowing them... I know that God treasures each and every friendship we have and He rejoices at the outpouring of love and support offered by those friends... I know that God is working through this disease to make us better more compassionate people and that He is and shall continue to be glorified as we fight this battle. (Romans 8:28)

So, how can I say I do not know if God will heal me if I know He is providing all things during my treatment? Because I do not know God's plan for me, outside of His promise to prosper and protect me; to give me hope and a future. (Jeremiah 29:11) Honestly, that is all I need because I learned a while ago, and it wasn't very long ago at all, that He is God and His ways are best...not mine. Now, this was hard to accept because I was so good at making godly decisions (not), acting in accordance with scriptures (not), and loving others to the point of laying down my own life for their sins (no, sorry again). No, no, and no. I was, and still am, a sinner. I worry about how things will affect me, my family, our world. While I do care about things like global warming and why on earth prisoners in J-A-I-L are receiving the H1N1 vaccine before law-abiding citizens who are high-risk are... Never mind. I lost my point. Anyway, I do care about stuff outside of "my world" however, I still care a great deal about "my world" regardless. God, on the other hand, cares about e-v-e-r-y-t-h-i-n-g and
e-v-e-r-y-b-o-d-y...even those prisoners in jail...getting the vaccine that pregnant women and cancer patients undergoing chemo cannot. Grrrrrr. Let's just move on...

God is aware of President Obama's signing of a $680 billion defense appropriations bill, which will pay for Taliban reintegration provision...in other words, the U.S. will pay members of the Taliban to "switch sides" and stop terroristic acts against us. Oh yeah, and we will pay them without penalty or punishment for ANY previous acts against us. Sounds to me like a very shaky foundation on which to build a transparent and surely temporary allegiance...but what do I know?

If I DID know something, it would be why people such as Jerry Springer, Morton Downey, Jr., Ricki Lake, Maury Povich, Howard Stern, and anyone who stands behind a pulpit preaching hate gets any air time. Perhaps Machiavelli was correct in his assertion that "it is far safer to be feared or hated than loved"?

Lawzy, I don't know. Heck, I don't even pretend to know, but it makes it very easy to rejoice in the fact that we have God deciding stuff and not me. Yes? Yes, indeed!!!

So, I trust God to do whatever it is He is going to do with my health...my life. I will continue to make healthy choices and try to maximize my length of time on earth with my family and friends as I do all that stuff I want to do...but I will never question God or ask "why me?" because I have never been happier than I am right now. Hard to believe, but true. So very, very true.

Maybe Elizabeth Edwards upset me because her statement made me think past "this bout of cancer" and entertain the idea of my cancer recurring. Maybe it struck a chord in me as a Christian because I believe we should never stop believing that God will intervene. Maybe, just maybe, Elizabeth Edwards sounded like she had given up and if she has, then maybe I should, too.

I don't know what it was that she said, didn't say, or implied. What I do know is that after a couple of days of playing that sentence over and over in my head, I came to a few conclusions of my own...

I need to pray specifically for Elizabeth Edwards to feel God's presence and peace as she battles this terrible disease.

I need to continue making plans for my future because I have one...not that I doubted it, but in case someone is watching and doubting that I do. (Perhaps I am witnessing without knowing???)

I need to continue to trust God. God has never lied to me. I cannot even say I have never lied to myself. He promised to take care of me. God does not break His promises. We do.

I need to continuously pray and give thanks for my family and our friends for they are heaven sent.

I need to give God all the glory, honor, and praise for the amazing blessings of cancer even on the days when they are very difficult to pinpoint because I think I am going to die...and sometimes want to. (Generally Days 3-6 Post Chemo)

I need to not judge others even when they are begging for it because honestly, it wasn't too long ago that I was being judged because I was begging for it...and it hurt. I never want to cause anyone to hurt like that. Just forgive. Think along the lines of "hate the sin, love the sinner". (Luke 6:37)

I need to treasure every moment of every day...tomorrow is not guaranteed. (James 4:14)

I need to expect less, give more, try harder to be the Christian/wife/mother/friend/teacher/servant God knows I can be and that He created me to be.

I need to proclaim to everyone that my husband is the most amazing person I have ever known and that the love and devotion he has shown to me over the past twenty years is humbling and the care and thoughtfulness he has given to me since the diagnosis moves my very soul to tears of gratitude, humility, and unsurpassed love. He is my hero.

I need to allow our children to see me at my strongest as well as at my weakest so that they will know life is full of challenges and God provides all the tools to survive it and survive it well.

I need to keep on believing...and I will.

Momma's China Doll

As you know, I am determined to sort through and organize our pictures while I have been given this opportunity to be home for an extended period. There is a chance, although small, that our pictures will be placed into albums, as well. Well, I said a "small chance"... Regardless of the fatigue, rapidly approaching Chemo #3, and Big Daddy's assertion that going through the past twenty years of pictures may be too daunting of a task for me, getting our pictures in some sort of order remains a priority.

Big Daddy was going to head to the Harley store for a quick ride on the bike. All I had to do was wait and soon I would have those pictures in the house. In other words, Step 1 of my Picture Sorting Project could get underway. As soon as Big Daddy cleared the driveway, I called for Beautiful Daughter to meet me in the garage as Precious Son was out playing ultimate frisbee. Beautiful Daughter and I looked at the most unorganized, "no-we-better-save-that-in-case-we-need-it-one-day" pile of mess anyone's garage has ever seen...and it was ours. I knew the Rubbermaid box of pictures was one of those boxes stacked to the ceiling...but which one? So, we started lifting lids to see which box would be the one. Of course, having lived to be 40 some years old, I knew it would be the one on the bottom of the stack, but I kept that gem of a secret to myself. Some things you just have to learn for yourself as a kid...

With my incredibly limited strength and overprotective daughter, I more or less directed her on which box to open and which ones to bypass.

"This one is full of Easter decorations", she said.

"This one has craft supplies in it."

"This one is Precious Son's Memory Box."

Box after box, no pictures, but then again, we weren't at the bottom...

Beautiful Daughter opened the lid to her own Memory Box and she saw her right away...my Mom's china doll. I had given her to Beautiful Daughter a long time ago explaining that this doll was priceless and irreplaceable. I do not have many things from my parents, so the few I do have, I treasure. Honestly, if something were to happen to damage or ruin or break one of these things I have from my parents, I think I might break as well. I cherish these few items so dearly because they are the only material connection I have to my parents and maybe, subconsciously, I believe if something happens, then I will lose that connection. Thirty years after they died and I still think like a kid when it comes to my parents.

Beautiful Daughter has loved my Mom's china doll since the day I showed it to her many years ago. She thinks she is "the prettiest doll in the world". Beautiful Daughter never really played with dolls as a child, so the "beauty" of this china doll is obviously derived from the mere fact it was her Grandmother's. The Grandmother she never had the pleasure of knowing... The Grandmother whom I hope and pray, I have done justice to by relaying my stories of childhood and my Mother's love.

Beautiful Daughter took out the china doll and said, "Mommy! Here she is! Your Mommy's china doll that you gave to me!" At that very moment, something inside of me, as in deep, deep inside of me, emerged like a tidal wave of emotion and I felt tears streaming down my face. Beautiful Daughter was so happy, actually thrilled, to see and hold and feel that china doll and I realized I had done something incredibly foolish for all these years the doll had remained in the Memory Box...

I kept her there.

Beautiful Daughter looked at me and asked why I was crying and I tried to explain to her how sorry I was for keeping the china doll away from her. While I was trying to protect the integrity of the doll, I actually limited my own child's connection with her. The more I plundered through the realizations going through my mind, the more I recognized that by withholding this precious antique from my child, I was also limiting her from creating her own memories with this heirloom, this memento from the past...her past, as well as mine. The little china doll that belonged to my Mother and had been given by me to my daughter, was trapped in a box waiting to examined upon my death. I mean, isn't that what a Memory Box is for? To sort through and recollect on rare occasion after someone near and dear has passed?

Beautiful Daughter gently placed the china doll back into the box and came to me as I continued to cry and apologize for keeping the doll tucked away. Beautiful Daughter assured me that everything was okay and she completely understood why I had wanted the doll to be safe. We talked for a little bit about the whole thing and then we decided that the doll should not go back into the box, but instead, should be in Beautiful Daughter's room, wherever she wanted to place her. I knew that my Mother's china doll would be well taken care of in the hands of my daughter.

We brought in the little china doll and we eventually found the box of pictures...which was on the bottom of the stack. It took the strength of both of us to maneuver the box out of the garage, into the kitchen, up the stairs, and into my bedroom, but we did it. Big Daddy hasn't even noticed the monstrosity sitting in there yet. *smile*

As for my Momma's china doll, she is in Beautiful Daughter's bedroom, sitting atop a shelf, looking down on Beautiful Daughter's vanity. The little china doll watches over her as gets ready each morning and as she sleeps each night, and all is well.

Sometimes, as I awake Beautiful Daughter in the morning, I notice a familiar little head made of china, poking out from underneath the covers...and I smile.

Fatigue

I am not "tired".
I have not become accustomed to "rest".
I do not embrace the "luxury" of napping mid-morning, in the afternoon, and early evening.

Fatigue is defined as weariness from bodily or mental exertion. The fatigue I am experiencing is beyond that. I am at the mercy of my body and my body is at the mercy of some foreign substance, a manufactured poison that will hopefully save my life. Sounds as counter intuitive as you can get, and yet, here we are.

I wake up at 6:15 and get the kids going with showers, breakfast, etc. They leave for school at 7:30 and I am asleep by 7:45. It is all I can do to stay awake to see them off. Not because I have stayed up late typing, those days are gone. I simply must rest.

I lay down and am asleep in record time, every time. It is so quick I sometimes wonder what would happen if I had not made it in time...before sleep took over. Would I just fall asleep standing at the door, kissing the kids goodbye for the day? That is how this fatigue is...all-consuming and without dissuasion. I have no choice.

When I awake for my second time of the day, I am ambitious to accomplish things because I have "wasted" so much time already. Of course the things I am doing are mostly paperwork as I am still under house arrest. How tiring could paperwork be? You would be amazed. The amount of paperwork coming through here is unprecedented. Insurance forms, bills, disability, EOB's, verification of employment (good question, actually), and of course, our business paperwork, which is always high volume. I no more than arrange my organized piles and pick a place to begin, then it is time to lie down again. No choice. I cannot keep my eyes open. My legs are dead weight.

And so goes my day, every day. My oncologist had told us that the effects of chemo were cumulative and would worsen each time. I guess I was thinking only about the nausea and vomiting without considering the fatigue. If I had been tired before cancer, I plowed through. There was no time to be tired! Things to do! Places to go! People to see! Deadlines to meet! Goals to reach! Wife Extraordinaire awards to win! Mother of the Year trophies to acquire! Yeah, there was no time to be tired.

By 2pm, I have generally napped twice. By 6pm, you can make it about three times. Yesterday I simply HAD to sleep at 5pm in order to leave at 530 to take the girls to school and pick up Precious Son. 30 minutes? Why bother with 30 minutes? Honestly, I don't know, but I laid down and fell asleep for 30 minutes because I had no choice. My body makes the decisions now and my body could not care less about paperwork, running to the pharmacy, or chauffeuring kids. So much for my trophies and awards.

When I sleep, it is as if I have laid down after climbing the more difficult side of a mountain. My legs feel like lead and my body simply collapses into the plush comfort of our bed. Each time I lie down, I feel as if I cannot move. When I awake because I have to use the bathroom, I literally lie there anyway. It takes an actual command of will to get up and go to the bathroom. I have laid there for very long amounts of time trying to force myself to get up and I just can't. Eventually my bladder wins out, but it isn't without some serious consideration of requesting a catheter. Oddly enough, I have refused a catheter each and every time I have been in the hospital and now, I think it sounds like a lovely idea.

Chemotherapy-induced fatigue is not merely being tired and fighting through anyway. This fatigue does not allow you the choice. I am convinced if I did not lie down when fatigued, I would surely collapse like someone with narcolepsy. Simply shutting down. No votes. No pushing through until a time to rest is more convenient or when all the "things" have been accomplished. No. Just shutting down...tapping out...giving in to something unseen but definitely in charge.

I remember loving being able to sneak in a nap...like I was getting a special treat or getting away with something luxurious. Now, I nap all the time and the novelty has worn off. Maybe if I had a choice in the whole thing, it would be different...

But I don't...

So, goodnight.

STD's from the iPhone???

As I mentioned before, Big Daddy bought me an iPhone a while back. It is something to play with and have with me at the hospital while getting chemo and going to appointments. I can surf the web, check my email, and play silly games with chickens trying to cross the road. So, basically, Big Daddy bought me a "toy" to keep me entertained. I love toys, so it was a very thoughtful gift. *smile*

One of the features for the iPhone is "word recognition" when texting. For example, if I type in "e-s-p-e-c", then the iPhone will display "especially". If I type in "r-i-d-i-c", the iPhone will display "ridiculous". Now, if I type in "b-r-o-c", my iPhone will shut down because I hate broccoli and would never text about that nastiness to begin with.

Now, I have always been an avid texter, so this little gem has served me well. When you begin typing an iPhone-recognized word, the iPhone will post that word and it stays there unless you remove it. Well, on a keyboard, I type around 80 words per minute...texting on an iPhone, not quite that fast, but still pretty darn impressive. With such amazing speed, I often text and do not proofread before I send. Something to do with my incredibly impatient behavioral pattern.

The other day, Beautiful Daughter and I were texting while she was watching a movie at school. (Yes, the kids DO have a rule about not texting during school, but we were missing each other and the movie was a documentary, so she wasn't watching anyway, to be honest...) So, we are texting back and forth about the day and I sent her a text saying I had a "DRS appt at 4 but would pick her up at 6". We continue texting for a bit and the she sends me a text asking...

"Mom. What is an STD?"

Here we go. Big Daddy and I had just watched this very informative albeit upsetting episode of Dr. Phil about "oral being the new goodnight kiss" for teenagers. We were appalled, shocked, upset, scared, speechless, and terrified to say the least. Dr. Phil had parents and teens on that show that told stories about teens having sex in the middle of the homecoming dance and how other teens were using their cell phones to record the act. We were in utter shock. We were teens once and up until that point, we didn't think it was THAT long ago!!! We would NEVER have done the things these kids were fessing up to on Dr. Phil!!! It was almost like an entirely different population of people. People with no sense of requital or exposure!! The teens were so brazen and haughty and defiant!! Oral is the new goodnight kiss?!?!?!? Are you freaking kidding me?????

So, here I was with Beautiful Daughter's text asking what an STD was, is, or whatever. I had to be cautious in the approach and response because having your teen talk to you is something you definitely want to happen, so I had to be super careful and not scare her away... I had to use kid gloves, so to speak. Keep the lines of communication open. Homecoming was looming and her date was a TEENAGE BOY! Deep breath. Keep it calm. Do not raise any red flags or make her uncomfortable. Play it cool...cool...cooool...

"STD's are HORRIBLE lifelong diseases that you never, ever get rid of!!! They are lesions that ooze green pus everyone can see and require constant care. You get them from having sex. All kinds of sex!!! Oral sex is sex, you know that don't you??? Remember, we have talked about this??? Anytime you exchange anything, even spit, you are running the risk of catching something. An STD will ruin your life! You will have to see a doctor all the time and stay on medicines to control it. Your husband will have to be told that you have an STD so he can protect himself. Of course, you will have to tell him BEFORE you get married because that is the right thing to do and then he may not want to marry you because honestly, that may be a deal breaker for him. We have talked about this. This is why we save ourselves for marriage just as God commands (yes, commands) us to. STD's can be contracted by ONE encounter only. You don't have to have a lot of sex to get an STD...you can get and STD with ONE sexual encounter and remember, oral sex is still sex!! Maybe more than regular sex, who knows?!?!?!? Whoever you have sex with, oral or otherwise, you are literally having sex with everyone THEY had sex with too!!! That's disgusting!!! The numbers can be astounding!!! God meant it when He said to save ourselves for marriage. Point is, STD's are terrible, vile, vulgar diseases which have the capability to ruin your health...possibly your life. Stuff can fall off...like appendages."

Yes. That was good. Not too over-the-top, at all. Completely subtle, yet to the point. Deep breath. Hopefully that well-crafted and not at all impatient text will soothe her soul, answer her question, and keep the lines of mother-daughter communication open.

Beautiful Daughter replied back... "Ok."

Now, to follow up!!! I had to be just as careful with the follow-up text as I had been with the STD explanation text. She obviously had received my text because she had replied with "Ok". Oh, what a slippery slope I was on!! Teetering between alienating my sweet, pure daughter and having open, honest discussions and drawing her close with my supercool explanations that hit my point home without being too "dramatic".

My next text to Beautiful Daughter had to be very nonchalant and not accusatory in case one of her friends was really asking about STD's and needed a grownup to confide in...so, I texted her the question...

"So Sweetheart HoneyBear Angelface...who was it that was talking about STD's?"

She replied immediately...

"You were."

WHAT?!?!?!?!?!?!?

So, I asked her what she was talking about and she said that I had sent a text saying I "had a STD appt at 4 but would pick her up at 6".

Enter iPhone-word-recognition-but-I-am-too-impatient-to-proofread-my-texts-before-I-hit-send" faux pas.

Apparently, my iPhone does not recognize "DRS" so it substituted "STD" in my original text.

Thank you, iPhone. Without you, I might have made a total fool of myself.

Pirate Peg Leg...ARRRRRGH, Matey!!!

About a week ago I noticed some slight difficulty in going up and down steps. Ok. What the heck? Upon further investigation I found that while standing, I could easily lift my right foot as far as I ever could, however, now I can only lift my left foot about an inch or two off the ground. There is definite limited mobility on the left side and I have to literally concentrate on "clearing" the steps in my house. I have to t-h-i-n-k to raise my foot high enough to make it onto the sidewalk or median. There is some numbness and discomfort. Of course, I am in complete control of this new symptom... Oh, wait. No, I'm actually not. In fact, it may be more accurate to say that I am walking around, limping around, going "are you freaking kidding me?!?!?!?"

Called the doctor and they worked me in for an MRI. Yes, another MRI. The only thing that could make this MRI even better? Yes, boys and girls, WITH CONTRAST. So, let's get that IV going and see what's going on, shall we?

The MRI showed no cancer in the lumbar region, however, there are some "disc issues". Well, of course there are. At this point, if there is something going on, just fix it. Good heavens, I have already met my deductibles for the year. There may be some ill-effects of the chemo contributing to the "disc issues" such as the chemo attacking the cartilage or something.

At this point, one may feel compelled to wonder "what else could go wrong?"...however, I am not that person. I know better than to ask. I remember one time when I was in my early twenties, I prayed for patience. That was quite possibly the most stupid prayer request I ever lifted up.

Kids, I would like to begin 2010 in good health with no issues, disc or otherwise. Of course, I will still be on chemo, but not the Taxotere which convinces you are dying and encourages you to go ahead.

Again, I have stuff to do. People counting on me to be there, wherever "there" may be. Graduations, engagement parties, weddings, homecoming dances, births of babies, and a cross-country ride on our Harley. Yeah, I've got stuff to do and these road blocks are beginning to tick me off. The cool thing about all of it, though? God is still good...and He is still my God. I have not been left or forsaken. He cares about me and my family. He is making me into someone He wants me to be.

Someone gave me this today:

What Cancer Cannot Do...
Cancer is so limited...
It cannot cripple love
It cannot shatter hope
It cannot corrode faith
It cannot destroy peace
It cannot kill friendship
It cannot suppress memories
It cannot silence courage
It cannot invade the soul
It cannot steal eternal life
It cannot conquer the Spirit
Author Unknown

So, while I may become ticked off at "one more thing", I still know that God is God and I don't have to be. I get to be His child and allow Him to work in me and through me. These roadblocks, while aggravating, are surely for some reason. If for nothing else, so I can hold someone else's hand when their leg stops working.

Homecoming Dress

Sunday found us sleeping in past our regular "get ready for church" time. When you get home from a competition around 1:30am and then talk and talk and talk, mom will make the executive decision to attend church Sunday evening as opposed to Sunday morning. So that is what this mom did. It was my first executive decision in a very long time.

We all slept in until around 10am and then, one by one, we arose. I decided to make everyone's favorite breakfast. Big Daddy - fried eggs, bacon, and toast. Precious Son - warm brownies and ice cold milk. Beautiful Daughter - macaroni and cheese. And for me - cucumbers and dip. It was a veritable smorgasbord of "not breaskfasty food", but we ate it all up and enjoyed every bite. There is something to be said for the nontraditional.

Beautiful Daughter and I headed to the mall, which opened at noon, to purchase her homecoming dress. While standing in my closet, looking for something to wear, I did reach for one of my breast cancer shirts, but then decided I would not have cancer today. So, I put on one of my new tops that I had recently found and felt pretty good about how I looked. I donned my wig and makeup and looked like a regular person. A cancer-free person. A well person. A mom out dress shopping with her daughter. Normal.

I figured I could go to the mall when they first opened with limited risk of infection as opposed to waiting later in the day when people with germs showed up. I wore my mask and we found the dress she had picked out prior. It was still there, however, her size was now on a mannequin. We found it, bought it, and then headed to the men's department to find the perfect matching tie for her date. Not an easy thing to do when the splash of color of Beautiful Daughter's black satin and tulle dress is the most unique purple-blue hue I have ever seen in my life. But we found a tie and all was well. Headed then to Shoe Carnival for some fashionista heels. They were a perfect match. What a great day with Beautiful Daughter. Only thing that could make it better? Lunch for two at Qdoba. Yummmmm.

The time was well spent, of course, however, the fatigue was rapidly approaching, so we headed home after lunch and I hunkered down for a lovely nap. With the windows open, we listened to the leaves rustling in the autumn breeze. One of my favorite sounds in the world! I dozed off while Beautiful Daughter lay beside me watching something on the Hallmark Channel. before I knew it, naptime had passed and we were headed to church to drop off the kids and then to dinner with Uncle Bill and Elay. It was yet another fabulous day.

We have experienced a great deal of rain here in the Bluegrass, so having the sun shine so brightly the past few days has certainly had a profound effect on my disposition. I love sunny, brisk, autumn days. They do something to me that goes beyond description...they make me hopeful, I guess. Kind of like spring...but a sunshiney autumn day...Wow. Spending a sunshiney autumn day with Beautiful Daughter and making her happy from head to toe...Double Wow.

Sooooo Much to Tell!!!

Haven't posted since Saturday morning and here it is going on midnight, Monday. Not sure if the majority of you like my long winded postings or several little ones, so we will just see how this goes and flows...you may end up with a long one annnnnnnd a lot of little ones! Wow! Lucky you!! Just like Christmas!! *laugh*

Saturday morning had Big Daddy heading to Ohio for his job and the kids had to be at school by 10:30 for a very long day of practice and then to a competition. I went to Walmart for the first time in months. I had my mask on and a shirt that read, "Why, yes, I DO have the Swine Flu! You should let me go first through the checkout before YOU catch it!!'' Ok. I totally did not have a shirt that says that, but some people are incredibly stupid AND rude AND they shop at WalMart when I am there, so despite having a Komen pink headwrap, a baseball cap with a faux-diamond encrusted pink ribbon on the front, and a surgical mask, there are surely people who thought I had the Swine Flu anyway. Not sure about your WalMart, but mine is overrun with idiots. For example, the guy who cut in front of me because I was pushing one cart, pulling another behind me, and wrestling with both. He obviously thought it was far easier for me to accommodate him and stop the movement and forward motion of two carts than it was for him, carrying nothing, pushing nothing, pulling nothing, to stop and let me pass, thus acknowledging the "right-of-way as determined by decent people". Jackass. I also hope he is reading this...and in case he is reading and still isn't sure if it is him I am referring to, perhaps this will help:

After you cut me off and made me slam on my WalMart buggy brakes, I said to you: "No, no. Please go in front of me. It is obvious that I have nothing going on and do not have cancer, you inconsiderate pig. I hope they don't run out of whatever it is you need in there because it is obviously a matter of life and death. So, whatever it is that you are so desperate for, Pabst Blue Ribbon or to check out the clearance items in the hunting section, I hope you make it."

Now. It sounds like I said a lot...but that was a total work-up from having been in there for an hour and a half and having people stare at me and look so curious. (Again, they thought I had Swine Flu despite 3,000 breast cancer ribbons adorning my apparel.) Lucy had told me that having cancer is a lot easier before people can see it via the headwraps and masks. She was absolutely right. I can even get away with being "flat chested" now, but wearing a mask during flu season with trendy, yet blatantly obvious, breast cancer ribbons make for a different ball of wax. So, after 90 minutes of stupid people and stares, I was basically ready for this guy to cut me off. Apparently, so was the guy outside the doors with a fold-up table in front of the store collecting money for Disabled Veterans because he said:

"That guy was an ass. I can tell you have cancer."

"Why, thank you", I said, and I gave him the cash I had.

Not sure if I was thanking him for agreeing with me about that guy being an ass or because he could tell I had cancer, regardless, I love it when people agree with me.

A WalMart employee, at my request, because some, if not most, are oblivious to customer care and service, helped me unload my vehicle, although he did not help me with everything; only one buggyful. You see, if he had stayed to help me with all of my groceries in both carts, he would have had to at least offer to take the buggies back for me. BWAHAHAHAHAHA!!! Like THAT is going to happen. Disclaimer: It isn't just WalMart that sucks for customer care and service, it's pretty much everyplace where you buy things...grocery stores, retail stores, clothing stores, any place in the mall employing 17 year olds with cell phones and unlimited texting.

Came home, Precious Son unloaded ALL the groceries while I sorted through what I had purchased for their "Secret Pal" gift exchange (we do this for every competition) and Beautiful Daughter gathered her things to take. Put up the cold stuff and we headed to school. The drop off was a huge success because while close, we were NOT late, and then I went to Kroger. Again, because I have apparently eaten the allotted ration for WalMart to carry Breyer's Rocky Road. So, I went to Kroger for my ice cream then came home... Amazingly, the exact same thing that happens at WalMart, happened at Kroger. I went in for ice cream and came out with another $60 worth of stuff. What the heck happened?!?!?!?!? It may have been the additional four packs of cookies I purchased (to go with the three packs I had just bought at WalMart) or it may have been the organic celery I picked up by COMPLETE mistake.

Newsflash: Organic Celery - $2.99
Regular celery you are going to wash the heck out of anyway - .69 cents

So, yeah, it could have been something really dumb like that. Well, that and Kroger carries the Tostitos bean and cheese dip that WalMart does not, so I bought two jars of that because a month ago, I had some at work when we had "Dip Day" and I really liked it. Since I liked it so much, I thought about it a lot, especially when they did not have it Meijer or WalMart...which made Beautiful Daughter and Big Daddy sad because they tried so hard to find it when they went shopping. So I bought two jars...despite not being interested in it at all, at this point. Again, stupid purchases...but they were the absolute result of being out, by myself, for the first time in AGES and I may have gone a little nuts.

Oh, yeah, and I bought nuts. Did something happen to the almond farmers that have them upset at us enough to charge 7 bucks for a handful of nuts...not even roasted????

I came back home and Lucy needed to stop by so I offered her lunch because she had to be at school very soon and still had a few things to do. I could at least knock off "get something to eat" from her to-do list and visit with her a bit. She stopped by and we talked. I just love her. She makes me laugh and not just because her southern accent can draw out a five letter word into four syllables...just in general, she makes me happy. The whole accent thing is a mere bonus... *smile*

What did I feed her? Fried chicken, fresh vegies, and T. Marzetti's Southwest Ranch dip. Try it! Amazing. You can find it at Kroger next to the organic celery.

Saturday night found Big Daddy and I at Morehead State University watching our children perform their hearts out...all 250 of our children! They had a total sweep, winning every category and scoring the highest rating possible - "Distinguished". These kids work so very hard. For example, Thursday and Friday of last week, the rest of the county was on fall break...our band kids were at school for mini-camps from 9-4. Some had sectionals in the evenings, as well. I just don't recall being motivated to do something so worthwhile requiring such dedication and diligence when I was in high school. I do recall, however, spending a tremendous amount of time on the phone with my boyfriend and planning our wedding and subsequent honeymoon in Fiji. And no, it was not Big Daddy, so you see what a waste that was???? LOL

We got home from picking up the kids around 1:30am. Beautiful Daughter wanted to talk to me alone for a while and shared some cool things that happened. I was thrilled, of course. We talked and finally fell asleep around 2:15am or so. She even slept with me. The day was the busiest one I have had in forever and I loved it. Was I exhausted? Oh yeah...was it worth it? More than words. The best part of the whole day was I was normal. I did things without needing help. I accosted a stranger for being rude and inconsiderate, which always makes me happy. Big Daddy and I were able to watch our kids perform and then sweep the awards...and then we were in the parking lot to pick them up after their very long day, applauding all 250 of them and their hard work and dedication. All of that followed by Beautiful Daughter asking if she could talk to me alone about some of the most important things in her life right now...

"Sure thing, My Love. Would you like some overpriced almonds while we chat?"

A Boat and a Blanket

We had gone with Elay and Uncle Bill out on the lake this summer...after the diagnosis, before the surgery. The kids had not even asked if they could invite someone to come with them like they usually do...as if they needed some family time away, just as much as Big Daddy and I did. So, we packed our picnic provisions, sunscreen, and camera and headed to the lake.



The weather was great. Sunning on a boat with the light wind blowing through your hair and dancing across your skin makes for good days. Everyone was in a wonderful, happy mood and at the most basic of levels, we were just thankful for where we were, who we were with, and the day in general. Since I was post-biopsy, I could not get in the water for fear of an infection at the biopsy site, but most everyone else did and we all had fun. I took a lot of pictures that day...



I have a digital camera that is amazing. It is Canon PowerShot SD900. The quality of pictures is clear and the range of what this camera can do still has me learning. I take all kinds of pictures, but I am most fond of nature shots and candid photos of people. I hate posing or asking someone pose for me. That isn't real. That isn't normal. And that certainly isn't the moment. Now, I do have some shots set up that have people looking at the camera, but none of those "lift your chin, tilt your head to the left, hold it, hold it, say cheese" kind of shots. Please. It has become very obvious that those prop pictures are going to come back to haunt us, so I will not contribute to future humiliations. When Ellen has those old shots from the 70's and 80's on her show, I know I am doing great things for all humanity by going for the candid shots... Can anyone say "Glamour Shots"? No need to thank me...you are most welcome.



So, the day on the lake was just what we needed. We were with some of our best friends and I was snapping pictures left and right. I have the ability to view my pictures immediately and while looking at the shots from the day, I saw it. "The Picture", as in the one shot you love instantly because somehow, someway, the moment you never want to forget has actually been captured...and you know as you look at it, that the very moment you never wanted to forget was as fabulous as you thought it was... I had a picture like that.



Big Daddy and I have the kids sitting in front of us and we all have our arms around each other and are smiling real smiles. Elay had taken the picture and honestly, when I saw it on my view screen, I wanted to cry. When I saw it on my computer, I did. This was my family. We were on the boat having a great day. The sun is dancing behind us on the water and our happiness is not only visible to the naked eye, but downright contagious. Everyone who has seen this picture smiles, too. We are a happy family. We are not a family about to fight the battle of our lives thus far...we are just a family loving each other and enjoying our day together. It's a memory we were blessed enough to be able to capture. Thank you, God, for this amazing picture of us.



I develop the pictures from the day. I show everyone "The Picture". Everyone loves it. Everyone is downright elated for our happiness in that one shot. I kept the picture with the others, but often took it out just to look at it and thank God for His goodness. So, imagine my surprise when I could not find "The Picture".



What?



Ok. It MUST be here. I always put it back with the others. Yes, I take it out often to show but I always put it back. Wait a minute. Why is that picture of Big Daddy and Uncle Bill comparing "fish stories" on the coffee table in the living room? Why isn't that picture with the rest? Hey!! How did THIS picture of Beautiful Daughter and Precious Son jumping into the lake get into my bedroom??? What is going on??? I HAD KEPT THEM ALL TOGETHER!!!!



I tore the house apart looking for all the pictures. I asked everyone, including strangers walking their dogs outside my front door if they had my pictures. No. No one knew where the pictures had gone or how they had been left here, there, and everywhere. AAAARRRRGGGHHHH!!!!!!!



Granted, my memory is not what it used to be, but I was being so careful with these last "normal" memories. You know, the ones that won't be labeled with "oh, this is when my mom had cancer" or "this was taken while my mom was on chemo". Just N-O-R-M-A-L!!!!



WHERE IS THAT PICTUUUUUUUUUUUUUURE
?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?



Ok. So, I looked for the picture everywhere. Asked everyone. Scowled at the dogs trying to get them to fess up what they knew... Nothing. I had managed to locate and collect all the other pictures, but I never found "The Picture".



Yes, I could have another one made, but that was not the point. The point was that I had kept up with it so well and wanted to show everyone this excellent shot when they came to visit. I wanted to take it to work before I had to go out on disability. I didn't really have time to get another copy...plus, I HATE STUFF LIKE THAT!!! I had it and now it was gone. My mental stability already challenged along with my memory, I decided to order another copy and be done with it. It wasn't like I had a million other things to do before my rapidly approaching surgery and family coming into town...and oh, yeah, the whole cancer thing.



Grrrrrrrrrrrr.



So, life went on. Surgeries were performed. Family came and went. People brought meals and gifts and a whole bunch of people who love us prayed...but I never forgot about that picture...you know, the one I was going to take with to the hospital...to look at, focus on, be motivated by... Whatever.



Beautiful Daughter asked her dad to take her to WalMart...not unusual by any means, but she wanted me to come with them, but stay in the Suburban... Um. Ok, I guess. So we went and I stayed in the truck. Not too long after they went in, they came back out with a WalMart bag. I was hoping for some gum or Raisinettes, but...I was told to close my eyes and not open them until I got the "OK!"... Big Daddy and Beautiful Daughter shuffled around to the front of the vehicle and then finally I got the "OK, Mommy! Ready!!!"



I opened my eyes and there they were, holding a fleece blanket with "The Picture" grafted into it. I burst into tears!! It was the most thoughtful gift...it moved my heart and soul the very core. Beautiful Daughter shouted "She loves it, Daddy!!! She's crying and everything!!!" and then she ran up to me with the blanket in her hand and said...



"Mommy, this was all my very own idea. I took your favorite picture and I'm sorry, but I wanted you to have a blanket that you can take with you to your appointments and to the hospital when you have to go...and I wanted this picture on it because it makes you so happy to see it...and it's us, just us."



As it turns out, Beautiful Daughter also took random pictures and placed them around the house as a means of protecting my sanity... How very thoughtful.
Being Type A means I absolutely A-D-O-R-E "random". *laugh*



That day on the boat will be forever etched in my waning memory, despite old age's best attempt to erase it...and if old age comes around trying to mess with "The Picture", I will simply snuggle down with my blanket that has "The Picture" on it and remember all over again how marvelous "normal" was one July day in the summer of 2009.

Here but Moody

Sorry I was unable to get on here last night after class. Class went well and everything, in fact, Babs, Robin, Beautiful Daughter and I went on to Lucy's house afterward to visit and then picked up something to eat. It was a very late night for me! Not getting home until 10???

As you know, I have been under house arrest for weeks now. It is paying off because I have not contracted another illness like the last time I left the house. Dr. Horn prescribed an antibiotic for me to take (Levaquin) beginning Day 5 post chemo, and I have been taking that religiously if for no other reason than absolute refusal to go back the emergency room. So far, so good. Staying in makes sense although it is extremely difficult. You know when the mailman stopping out front is the highlight of your day that your days are pretty b-o-r-i-n-g.

So, class went well and Robin and Babs came with me...actually, they took me, but why nitpick? They both commented on how nice it was to have Babs drive as opposed to me, which is a fair enough statement considering my road rage. Traffic makes me angry inside. Stupid drivers make me homicidal. Even when I countered with how well I have been doing of late as far as not jumping out of my vehicle and accosting soccer moms who are texting while driving, they both were quick to point out that I haven't driven in weeks and this will surely effect the stats.

Hmmmm. Whatever.

My students were glad to see me and I, them...we discussed the ethics involved with corporate governance and then got down and dirty into some personal stuff about ourselves. I know it is a great class when someone comments "You made me think of things in a new way tonight"... That's when I feel like I am doing something worthwhile. Turns out the person that told me that also wanted to give Robin and Babs a hug goodbye. People being good to each other...love that.

Class went on a little longer than usual, but only because of the great, participative discussion and thought provoking concepts. When it was over, I was pretty tired, but would not have been anywhere else in the world. Being a professor is such a huge part of who I have always wanted to be...it's difficult to turn it off. Contributing to people using their minds, thinking on their own, challenging the norm...that's what I love. Last night, one of the best students I have ever had the pleasure of instructing told me that he has learned more from the past couple of months with me than he has with anyone else, ever. He graduates in December, so I am guessing he has had a few instructors. When I thanked him and told him that ethics is my favorite subject to explore and learn about, he corrected me. He said, "No, you are an amazing instructor but I mean I have learned more from you about life and living". Wow. Thank you, God, for the opportunity.

After Babs dropped us off and everyone was getting ready for bed, I sat looking at my laptop for a good, long time. I was trying to drink my last bottle of water for the day and wanted to write, but just could not. I waited for Precious Son to get home from the movies and conked out. I may have moved one inch throughout the night...but I don't think so. As wonderful as going to class was for me, I was exhausted. Woke up this morning, got the kids ready for mini band camp, took them myself, came home and wanted to vomit. The fatigue was undeniable and the nausea was back. Robin would be getting up soon and then leaving for home...it was cold, wet, and rainy and my "inner" mood reflected all these things. (I don't like to be in less than a good mood because people try so hard to make me feel great, so I hide moods that do not qualify as "good")

Robin came on downstairs and found me sitting at the table. She put her arms around me and said "I loved watching you last night. You are a wonderful teacher. I am so proud of you."

Instant mood reassessment. Verdict? Good mood.

We talked a bit and then Robin got ready to go. I was not going to cry because it hurts her heart to see me cry, so I held out as long as I could. She loaded her car, came back inside, and I cried. Well, I am not very good at not crying when she leaves, so there was no need to pretend, so I just cried. She babied me and then she left.

I love it when she babies me.

Big Daddy was at work all morning so I was alone in the house. I played on Facebook for awhile and answered some emails. I thought about taking some anti-nausea medicine, but decided not to. Then I threw up and changed my mind. So very fickle, am I.

I laid in bed waiting for the medicine to work it's magic and Big Daddy came home. I was asleep before he finished telling me about having to go to Ohio Saturday for work...although I did hear him say he would be back in time for us to go see the kids perform at the festival. Our kids will not perform until after 7pm and Big Daddy and his partner have to leave for Ohio at 5am. Long, long day. Plus the festival is a little over an hour away. This man will do anything for his family...anything.

Slept all afternoon. Waited for Ellen to come on and say my name...again, not today. A dear friend stopped by with homemade zucchini bread and it was such a pleasure to see her and her lovely daughter. Visits mean so much when you are home bound... Babs is coming over tonight to help me bake cookies for tomorrow's mini band camp and I will surely fall into bed exhausted yet again. All I ever wanted to do was be at home to bake the cookies, clean the house, be the best wife and mom...and now that I am home, I have to ask for help because I cannot stand for more than a minute and a half and I become winded moving from the couch to the chair. I revisit that sentiment often, don't I? Not being able to "do" is really beginning to "irritate".

Made it!

Here we are, Tuesday evening, as predicted. It is going on midnight and we made it through Round 2. Ain't that something? Because yet again, I wasn't sure...

Auntie Robin arrived Saturday evening about 6. We had a lovely dinner to celebrate her birthday and even had cake! Man, I love cake. Ok. I love cake as a vehicle for icing, but still, that sweet hint of cake with my icing...you would have thought it was my birthday. *smile* Babs and her hubby were here and honestly, we all were just kind of biding our time...my time, I guess, to catch the pieces when they fell. We all knew it was coming, just were not sure when.

We taught Auntie Robin to play Mexican Train Dominoes and that was a wonderful, beautiful distraction. What a hoot to have her ask the same question for every turn...and have the same answer given. We laughed and enjoyed each other's company. The clock ticked on...

Big Daddy had insisted on some precautions this go 'round and they truly helped. For example, instead of traipsing around a football stadium from 1 in the afternoon until about midnight, we stayed home and I rested. Another insistence was for me to drink lots of water, which I did. Not normally an issue, but when it's a "must" or a "have to", it changes things. What a problem child, I am. Drank the water, rested, and did not cook the big meal like I did last time... I didn't do laundry or clean the house or cook a meal after Wednesday. And it all added up to my being able to post tonight...

Lucy, Ms. B, and Babs took care of all our meals. Big Daddy orchestrated getting the kids from Point A to Points B, C, and D. Everything was set and ready for when it came...and it came on Sunday.

I woke up feeling as if I should not move. Like I should lie there and wait...as if making that first movement would awaken the side effects, who had hopefully forgotten to visit me. Irrational? Yes. Did I lie there anyway? Yes...as long as I could. From the moment I swung my legs from under the covers to the floor, my head swam in a chemo fog and I became lightheaded. The room swirled and tilted to the left. The bathroom was so very far away...almost as far away as help.

Do I ask for help? Am I really this messed up already? Should I call someone for balance? Maybe I should just text someone. Call? Wish for someone to appear? Why was this such a chore??? Beautiful Daughter had slept with me and there was simply no way I was going to wake her up to help me. She is still so terrified and I refuse to add to that. So, I did what I had to do. I held onto the wall and edged my way out of my bedroom and into the bathroom. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and recognized the dead person staring back at me. I only saw her once before, three weeks ago, and it was enough. Death was back.

Somehow, I insisted on pacing myself to get the kids ready for church. Babs was picking them up at 9:30 and it was now almost 9. Someone had not awakened on time and that someone was me. I forced myself upright and woke up Beautiful Daughter. She took a shower and then I awoke Precious Son for the same routine. "Hurry, though, or you will be late..." is what I said to them, however, "hurry or you will see me collapse", is what I was thinking. There was no way I could let that happen.

Babs came and off they went to church and it came hard and fast. I would like to tell you that this was the morning Robin massaged my legs so that the restlessness would go away, but I don't know if that was Sunday morning or not. Big Daddy massaged my legs, too...but when? Honestly, I can tell you that at this moment, almost midnight on Tuesday, is the first recollection of time I have had since about Friday. I now keep notes to know who, what, when, and where...everything.

Between Sunday morning and Tuesday morning, death visited again...and stayed. Bastard. I am so beyond words and description as to what the chemo does to you. Poison has been injected into your jugular and routed throughout your body so that you can live. Even explaining it makes no sense. It defies description and understanding. It isn't a matter of feeling bad or having the yuckies. Full blown flu does not touch this stuff. You could even add strep to the flu and raise an ear infection, and nada. Being dealt that hand, not even close.

I tried to drink water but there was absolutely no eating. The nausea is inconceivable. The tremors never end and the absolute compulsion to jump out of your skin is a rational thought because you want to so badly. Violent cramps came from the deepest part of my body. I was doubled over in pain...moved to tears as my breath was taken away by excruciating agony. Were the cramps from five days of no bowel movement or because my menstrual cycle is so screwed up I may be in the throws of early onset menopause, yet another side effect of chemo? Who knows. I vomited. I dry heaved. I shook and shook and shook. Big Daddy and Robin held my head, held my hand, and held me up as I wretched. The chills came and the shakes. I was moved back into the bed and just sank. The looks on the faces of Big Daddy and Robin made me feel even more horrible because they were hurting so deeply...for me. I was hurting the people I love so, so much and there was nothing I could do but continue because it was only Sunday.

I don't recall many more facts between Sunday and now besides how glad I was to have Elay and Uncle Bill stop by to help me pass the time. I don't even know what we talked about but I know Elay held my hand and cried with me. The tears came as soon as I saw her and Uncle Bill. I didn't even know I wanted to cry or needed to, but the tears flowed when they came into my bedroom and I saw my dear friends. Elay baked my favorite cake and it was waiting for me this morning for breakfast. *smile* Hello, "Upswing".

Today has been good and I am doing well. Big Daddy and Robin have been ever-vigilant to make sure I don't do anything and that I conserve my strength. I go back to class tomorrow night after having last week off for fall break and I am very anxious to see my students. Most people are shocked that I am going or even want to go, but if you knew my students and what they mean to me, then you would fill my Suburban with gas and send me on my way.

If you or someone you know is going through cancer and especially chemotherapy, they need you. Yeah, cancer makes us uncomfortable...all of us whether we have it or not, but the thing is, cancer does not yield. It does not care. It does not waiver. It must be fought and destroyed. By the grace of God, I am allowed to fight...not everyone is afforded the chance to. That is a very difficult thing to remember when all you want to do is give up. This is where you come in. Be the friend. Make the meal. Buy the frozen coke. Visit. Call. Text. Send a carrier pigeon. Just don't let the opportunity to walk beside of someone with cancer pass you by without doing something to help them. We need your help. We are fighting for you, our families, our friends, because what is required for this battle is not anything we could conjure up for ourselves.

To each of you, I thank you humbly and wholeheartedly. As cliche as it sounds, I cannot do this without you...and as "me" as it sounds, I think it is pretty cool that y'all want me to bother. I won't let you down. Like Big Daddy says... "We're in it to win it."

Saturday October 10th

Feeling fine still...just tired. Have all the meals planned thanks to wonderful friends and Robin is on her way as I type. The kids are excited for her return visit, as am I. Big Daddy has gone out of his way to make sure she has comfy digs and that all of us are well provided for. He is amazing.



Big Daddy took Precious Son to breakfast this morning and they had a nice time together. Amazing how much a little breakfast can mean between a father and son. I am thankful for their time together. Again, thanks to my having cancer, our priorities have shifted for the better and become more family-focused as opposed to goal driven. In fact, Big Daddy and Beautiful Daughter are out right now shoe shopping together. This is something that makes me so very happy...I hate shopping and those two love shoes, so it works very well. More time to bond and talk and just "be together". Gotta love that. Again, thanks cancer, for helping us get our act together.



I don't think we were doing anything necessarily wrong by having the goals and aspirations that we did before the diagnosis, I just think we spent an awful lot of time trying to reach them and not so much time being together. Seems to be the American way, doesn't it? Go, go, go...Do, do, do...Achieve, achieve, achieve. Then you hope and pray you live long enough and are healthy enough to enjoy the fruit of your labor. Sometimes, things just don't work out like that. Sometimes, cancer comes along and says, "Hey, wait. Let's focus on today and each other." Not a bad lesson...



There are not enough words of thanks for the rallying around of our friends and family. Without you, we would be in a real pickle, so I humbly thank you for the meals, rides for the kids, trips to the store for milk and ice cream, and the constant communication to check in. My husband rests because he knows we are being cared for...and as I mentioned before, one week before my diagnosis, I was convinced he would fall over from a work-induced heart attack and die. Now, here we are battling cancer, surrounded by throngs of love and support and my wish has come true...my husband is healthy...my husband is beside me...my husband rests.



Our children are doing incredibly well, much thanks to school and their obligations to band and color guard. What a blessing! Thanks, God, for the perfect timing of all this. If the kids were out during the summer for all this, it surely would not have been handled, as well, I dare say. But that's how God is...awesome. People sometimes ask God why things happen, but I don't. I know He doesn't want me to have cancer and I know He didn't give me cancer. We live in a fallen world and God is the means to survive it and learn how to love through it. I am as strong a Christian as I have ever been...having cancer doesn't change that for me. Good things happen to bad people just like bad things happen to good people. God is good all the time...and I am His servant. I thank Him and praise Him for taking such care of my family and for providing so abundantly in every realm. Our children are healthy and happy. My husband is my rock and my battle buddy. Our friends care about each of us beyond words. Our family puts their lives on hold to help us take care of ours. How can anyone doubt God's provision?



Well, I guess I just had a few things on my mind as I sit in the quiet house. As I have sat here, I am beginning to feel a bit less than good and am resigning myself to the fact that "it is coming". So, I will head upstairs to the bedroom and be in prayer for strength and courage and to not quit despite the urge to want to. Who knows, maybe this time it won't be so bad...and maybe, it just will. Regardless, I am a child of God, the wife of the most incredible man, the mother to fantastic kids, friend to those who allow me the pleasure, and a few other titles here and there. But for today and the next couple, I am a fighter and losing is not an option. I have stuff to do.



Thank you for the prayers and the constant support. See you as soon as I am able...maybe Tuesday evening, if the time schedule for death to come a knockin' is about the same as last time. One more thing before I go for today...Make today count. Tell your family you love them. Make time for them. Same with your friends. Tomorrow is not guaranteed or promised...God said that. I just said to make today count. *smile* ~Pandora

Day After Chemo 2 October 9, 2009

Uneventful day. Went to sleep last night without any medication and slept well. Got the kids up at 6:ooam and got them off to school, went back to bed and stayed until about 1pm. Big Daddy and I slept throughout the morning and then got up to do payroll for the business and make some deposits. Business as usual for a Friday and I was thankful to be able to help Big Daddy. As I mentioned, things last time were okay through Friday and even through Saturday, until late Saturday night. Then the bottom fell out...

I am dreading the bottom falling out. I keep thinking to myself how I am feeling pretty good and maybe, just maybe, the effects won't be as bad this time. I know that is not necessarily realistic, but I am from the stupid breed of human being and I hold onto hope even when I know I shouldn't. Happens all the time to other people, too, not just me...we get our hopes up and get suckered all the time...and we still end up hoping again, anyway...

Amazing.

Obviously, I am not in a great mood right now and honestly, I don't even know why. Must be the dread, even though I have tried to keep it at bay. I am grouchy and irritable...and as I look at the clock, I know tomorrow is just around the corner and that feeling...that indescribable feeling that will take over me for the next few days is literally hours away.

My family will tiptoe around and try to make me as comfortable as possible...my sister will be here for her birthday instead of spending it with her family and enjoying some nice party...my friends will bring food to nourish my family...and I will fight to keep breathing.

Maybe I do know why I am in a mood...I have been where I am going before and I thought I would die, and at times, was okay with dying...and that is where I am heading in a mere few hours again...and then again, and again, and again for one year until my body has annihilated the cancer...I hope.

Chemo #2 Under Belt October 8, 2009

Well, it's done. One more under my belt and I am relieved. There was some initial concern that my white blood cells would not have rallied on their own, in which case, today's chemo would have been postponed, however, God is good and my body is healthy. White cell counts bounced back along with liver and kidney function tests coming back excellent. I don't even have to get the shot that forces bone marrow and white blood cell reproduction, which is great news because that shot lingers in your joints and bones and you ache for the entire time of chemo. I have enough to deal with, thank you.



Today was Linda's birthday. Linda is the phlebotomist at the cancer center. I made her some cookies and goodies and delivered them this morning. I stop by her area first for labs on chemo day. She is a wonderful woman who has seen a lot of hard times, but came out for the better and so much stronger than she ever could have imagined. I reckon that happens to a lot of us. Linda is kind and gentle, which I greatly appreciate. She is the best "stick" of all my encounters. I just loved her from the first time I met her, Big Daddy did, too. Again, we have been so incredibly blessed to just meet these wonderful people we never would have run into otherwise. Getting to know them and even baking them cookies for their birthday makes everyone a happier person...patient and provider.



We moved on to see Dr. Horn and he was happy with my lab results, especially the rise in white cell counts. Oncologists want your body to do the right thing on it's own without having to rely on medicines and such, and mine did really well. Of course, my body and my mind had also resigned itself to never, ever go back to the emergency room, so we bucked up and made some white blood cells, mister! Dr. Horn wrote me a prescription for Ambien as sleep continues to be an issue plus it will come in handy on Days 3-5 Post Chemo. Just knock me out and wake me up when I can go potty by myself.



After seeing Dr. Horn, we went to get hooked up for the chemo. Now, last time, since it took so long, we were given a room with a bed and a tv and a door. Not this time. Since we were "only" there for four hours, we were given a walled-off area with a sliding curtain and a full tilt recliner for me and a fellowship hall chair for Big Daddy. I must say, the room was much better. I cannot sleep sitting up, and even in the full tilt position, you are still sitting. So, with 50 mg of Benadryl and being incapable of finding comfort, I fought sleep. My arms fell asleep and my hands. Ugh. The room was so much better!!! Oh well, next time I will throw back some Ambien on top of the Benadryl and will be able to sleep in the Sharps container and not care.



I had a new chemo nurse today and her name was Marquetta. She was wonderfully kind and got the port to work on the first try! LOVE THAT!! She was very sweet and checked on not only me, but also Big Daddy, the entire time we were there. Marquetta is the kind of nurse you want when you are in the hospital...kind, gentle, attentive. She even offered to get me something from the snack guy and he had cookies! Marquetta made today an easy day and we were truly thankful.



We left the hospital after Big Daddy texted or called everyone to let them know we were fine...went to the pharmacy, got some gas for the Suburban, dropped by the bank, and then Big Daddy bought me the frozen Coke he promised if I was good. teehee We walked in the door a bit before 4pm and the rain clouds opened up. We had just made it. We hit the bed and took a nap until it was time for Big Daddy to go pick up the kids from practice. I stayed in bed. Finally able to enjoy the Benadryl from earlier. Ahhhhhhhh.



Big Daddy took care of dinner and we sat around the table and talked about the kid's day at school and practice. Big Daddy and Beautiful Daughter are at WalMart now and Precious Son is sitting beside me doing his homework while I type. If only chemo was this easy for the whole time...but it isn't and it won't be. I know and my family knows that come Saturday evening, things are going to head down the drain and we won't feel "right" or "normal" again until Tuesday evening, if the chemo cards play out like they did last time. Robin is coming Saturday and it's her birthday. What a generous person to spend your birthday in the depths of despair with someone who feels as if she is staring at death's door. Maybe it won't be as bad this time, but honestly, you have to give credence to all the doctors, nurses, and survivors who have said, "Oh, Honey, it gets worse", otherwise you are doing yourself a grave disservice to not prepare mentally.



I hate surprises so I try to avoid them at all costs. Even good surprises make me uncomfortable. It's that whole "control" thing, I'm sure. Anyway, I am not trying to work myself into a lather of dread, I am just trying to be realistic and if this round does to me what the last round did, I am in for a rough few days...and so is my family as they watch and know they can do nothing. How frustrating for them. I hate putting them in this situation of helplessness. It breaks my heart to see theirs breaking for me.



My friend from work is bringing dinner tomorrow and then Lucy will provide on Saturday. Somewhere in there, Babs is making Robin's favorite cake (white cake with buttercream frosting) and Big Daddy has placed an order for her favorite pie (blueberry). At some point, you just have to eat cake AND pie to feel better. We should all be good by the time all that delicious food and those wonderful desserts are gone. And, if I play my cards right, there may be another frozen Coke in my future...if I'm good. :o)

2nd Chemo...Hours Away

So, I did not write last night because I was not feeling well. Being the medical doctor that I am, I can tell you it is because I was stressing over tomorrow and the next round of chemo. I don't want it. I don't want to go through it again. I don't have any desire to do this...so I will be there at 8am Thursday because I have no choice if I want to live and be the wife to Big Daddy that he deserves and the mother to our children that they need. So, 8am it is.

I threw up twice yesterday evening. And this is nice, you will appreciate the irony, I'm sure...
When Big Daddy arrived home with the kids from practice, on the dining room table I had a lovely dinner of marinated chicken breasts, rosemary potatoes, home style macaroni and cheese, sliced, fresh cucumbers, green beans, and cookies in the oven for dessert. Ahhhh. To be a stay-at-home mom again... The kids came in, blew kisses and went to change their clothes and sanitize themselves. When they came back downstairs for dinner, we sat down, said the blessing, and as I was beginning to serve their plates, I had to hand the plates over to Big Daddy so he could finish. I ran upstairs and threw up. And yes, you CAN hear me from the bathroom into the dining room.

At least we said grace first.

Anyway, it was gross and I was stupid to get that worked up again about something I have no control over, but as I mentioned before, chemo more than sucks and you honestly feel like each breath could be your last right about Day 3 post-chemo...into Day 5. The worst part? You entertain the thought of dying because you cannot imagine making it through anyway...which brings me to my latest revelation...

My Mom. She was 52 when she died. I was nine. She had battled cancer for all of my life. She was in and out of the University of Virginia Medical Center for a great portion of my life. All of it from age 5 on. She had colon cancer then METS. (METS means "metastasized", where the cancer has spread throughout the body and the end is really just a matter of time.) Did I mention I was nine?? I had no clue what was going on. All I saw was my mommy covered in wires and tubes and in agony. She was constantly sick from the chemo. Never letting up. This was 30 years ago and the treatments today have become quite advanced...but I remember swearing to myself that if I ever got cancer, I would never seek treatment. Dying would just be so much easier...and you were going to die anyway, so why suffer so horribly for the same end result? Even at 9, I was pragmatic.

The other side of watching my mother suffer was watching my dad. This man loved her like a man should love his wife...like Big Daddy loves me. He treated her like a queen and it was reciprocated because my mom adored my dad, too. They were the type of people that exuded love and mutual admiration for each other. When you can see love, there is love...and you could see the love my parents shared from a mile away. So, watching my dad love my mom through chemo and METS made that promise to myself a real deal. No way would I do that to my family...

So, here we are and I am doing that to my family. However, treatments have come such a long way and it is doable, obviously, but you don't believe that it is because you are convinced you are d-y-i-n-g. The pharmaceutical companies and cancer experts have made tremendous strides in combatting the side effects of chemo. They aren't magicians, but they do so awesome tricks. I can tell you this much, reducing, and for some people, controlling nausea makes me far more likely to show up for the next year of chemotherapy. I hate that feeling of being nauseous. It makes me sick. hahahaha (Needed a little levity...)

So, back to my revelation of sorts...it may not even be. It may be more like the first moment in time when you identify with your parents. Here's the thing...if, even with all the advances of modern medical science, I still entertain the idea of giving in and accepting that breath as my last, then what my mommy went through was a trillion times worse...and she never gave up. She fought and fought and fought...and she was fighting for us, her family. How do I know? Because with chemo, you don't fight for yourself...you aren't worth it, but your family is. The friends who find time practically every day to call/email/text/Facebook or play with you on Farmtown are. The friends who DO call/text/email/and make sure your family has great food definitely are. The family and friends that rearrange their work schedules just to hold your hand, just to let you know you are not alone and that this fight is not in vain...THAT is why you do it. You certainly don't do it for yourself.

So, as I am about to go to bed for the night...and face Round 2 of chemo tomorrow, I know in my heart of hearts, even if I never really knew before, that my mom fought the good fight and she did it for my brother, my sisters, and for me. My dad had just died but she fought on. She fought to have grandchildren bouncing on her lap and great grandchildren running in her front yard on holidays as her huge, extended family gathered... She battled to win for all the friends that merely held her hand when she could not move or even lift her sweet head off her pillow. She fought for the legacy of her family even as she buried the love of her life and knew her own death was close.

My mom fought a battle she knew she would not win. She fought until her last breath...I know this because I was with her as she drew it in... And so, tomorrow, I go for more chemo and I will fight the good fight and I will not succumb to pity or fear or even plain ole, little kid "don't want to" because my mom fought for me and I have my own legacy counting on me to win...

I am fighting for my husband, our children, our families, our friends...
I am fighting so that I can bounce my grandchildren on my lap and have all the great grandchildren run and play in our front yard for holidays filled with tons of family...
And one day, I may be able to hold a friend's hand and just let them know I am there as they battle their own war, whatever it may be...

Cancer is making me a better person...and a fighter. One day I will be able to lay down my gloves, pick up my camera and take pictures of Big Daddy holding Jude (Precious Son already has a name picked out for his son, despite not knowing who his wife will be...) and knowing that I will be there to hold Big Daddy as he gives Beautiful Daughter away to a man certainly unworthy of our princess...and we will rock on our front porch as the grandchildren and subsequent great grandchildren fill our yard with toys, tricycles, and laughter. Laughter you will be able to hear in heaven...and my parents will look down in love at their family and at the fighter, their youngest, and they will know they did not raise a quitter.

Thanks to you, I can do this...and I will win.

I love you, Daddy. I love you, Mommy.

I Love a Parade!

I believe I have mentioned the angst I am experiencing over Beautiful Daughter not being willing to discuss her feelings or fears about my cancer with anyone... She is simply not going to. I have begged, pleaded, bribed, guilted, and something else but I am not sure what you would call it, but I did it. Nothing worked. So, when she came home from church last night and asked if I ever felt like God was speaking directly to me while at church, I just knew we were about to have our conversation. She was on the verge of telling me e-v-e-r-y-t-h-i-n-g that has been going through her mind and we would work through each issue together and be happy again.

Nope.

Apparently, God told her that people deal with things differently and if she doesn't want to talk, she shouldn't have to.

What?!?!?!? Are you kidding me??? That's what you got from God at church????

I fought my urge to tell her to go back to church and listen harder because I was positive God did NOT say that...

So, I sat there and listened to her explain that she simply does not want to talk about anything and that her dad and I need to stop trying to force her.

I was not happy, to say the very least. I am not willing to divulge all the gory details of what we said to each other because I respect her privacy, so suffice it to say that she and I both went to bed crying.

Ugh.

All I want to is to be Big Daddy's wife and the mother to our children. With Beautiful Daughter shutting me out, shutting ALL of us out, it makes me feel like an absolute failure. Why isn't she running to me??? Why is she pulling away from us??? Why is she insisting on going through this ordeal alone???

Well, this isn't about me...I mean it is, and it isn't. This is about how a girl, 14 years old and a freshman in high school handles her mother having cancer. This is about how MY girl is handling it. She does not display emotions of vulnerability. She is stoic. She is like her father. Helping her handle this means allowing her to handle this HER way, not the way I think she should handle it...or the way that makes me most comfortable. This is her life and her mother has cancer and she is petrified and angry. All the wonderfully exciting things that are going on in my little girl's world are tainted by my having cancer... You know what? I'd be pissed, too.

So, after crying on the phone to Lucy today and Babs last night, I let it go. There probably was a light bulb over my head when it hit, because it truly was a revelation. Let her handle it her way. If I force her, she will retreat further and STILL not talk about it. Back off. Allow her to deal and handle and grieve and be angry...and be waiting for her when she is ready to talk.

In other words, stop being a control freak and let people handle things themselves.

So, let me get this straight...I find out I have cancer, I have surgeries, chemotherapy, pills, shots, lose my hair, get sick, stay sick, keep a headache, have to ask for help, can't mother the way I want to and always have, can't work, have to stay in my house, ANNNNNNND allow people to handle all that on their own???

Just shoot me in the head, why don'tcha?

So, by the grace of God, I let it go...and I mean that I am not just saying it. It is only by God's grace that I could let this go...and I did.

I sent text messages to the kids telling them that Big Daddy said we could go to the Fire Prevention Parade tonight as long as I stayed away from people. (i.e., police parking garage) and I would see them there. I was so excited!! I hadn't even asked Big Daddy if we could go until around noon today because I just couldn't handle one more "no". However, this time, he said "yes". How to put it...? I was tore up excited!!!

I emailed Babs and asked her to come with us and she said "yes" and then I just waited until time to go. We headed downtown to the parking garage with layers of jackets and coats along with hand sanitizer and cameras. We found Ms. B and her family and waved from the structure. They actually saw us and it was kind of like we were there together, like we should be, even if we couldn't be beside each other.

The kids did an awesome job in the parade. This was Beautiful Daughter's first parade to be part of and she loved every minute of it. Precious Son, old hand, still did what he always does...found me and made faces for my pictures. God love him, that boy makes me laugh. We hooped and hollered like a bunch of rednecks and the kids ate it up. Normally, I would not yell out their names because I don't want to embarrass them, but something came over me when I saw Beautiful Daughter smile that smile...the same smile I recall seeing back in June before the bottom fell out of her world. It's almost like she knew where we were, but there was no way she could have known...but she found me...and then she smiled.

Another supercool part of the parade is that Precious Son and Beautiful Daughter are right in front of each other for the entire parade route. Wow. How often will THAT happen??? To see them both at the same time without having to pan my video camera around so that when we watch we all get carsick, yeah. Not having that is a good thing. We've gotten sick before off of my amateur videos. I am far better at still shots..when the wind isn't blowing...and no one is blinking...

So, we leave the parade and head to school to pick up the kids. They hop in the truck and we head home. The camera was still out, so we took some more pictures, this time with Big Daddy behind the camera. I looked at those pictures and they were different...the happiness was real, not pretend.

Big Daddy and Precious Son headed downstairs with plates of food to watch the game. Beautiful Daughter asked me to stay with her while she ate...and of course, I did.

We talked and laughed about nothing and everything...people and clothes...music and pictures...her boyfriend and brownies. It was as wonderful as it could be...my girl and me.

We said "goodnight" when it was well past her bedtime... I am normally a stickler for bedtime but I just did not want this time with her to end. Selfish on my part, I know, children need their sleep...but tonight, this child needed her mother and her mother needed her.

Dear Lord, I thank You and praise You for saving me from myself. I will treasure this special evening with my family and ponder it often. You love us so very much and I am so undeserving...but I thank You, adore You, and worship You. Thank you, God, for tonight. I love a parade.

I See Bald People...

Actually, I only see bald people when I walk by a mirror without a head wrap on...and it's fine. Went to see Donna, my longtime friend and stylist, on Friday afternoon and she went ahead and shaved the little bit of hair that was left on my, thankfully, NOT-pointy head. It was more upsetting for Donna than for me. I was prepared mentally for this one...had almost two months to get ready and I did. Big Daddy took me there and stayed with me the whole time. He thought I was brave, but really, I wasn't. It was just something that had to be done...part of the battle, you know?

So, we go in and unless you live on another planet, you knew I had cancer from the first foot in the door. The pink headwrap, the white baseball cap with the little pink ribbon on the front, the Race for the Cure teeshirt... yeah, they knew. I had told Big Daddy before we left that I am extremely concerned with making other people uncomfortable because I don't want to. He said something like "They'll be fine!" and moved on, but I really don't want anyone to be uncomfortable around me...and some just are. Now, in the beauty salon, minus the stylists, no one knew me...but they all felt sorry for me. Their tones changed. The laughter and lighthearted conversations stopped. Everyone looked at me through the mirrors in front of them as I walked by their station... And everyone was sad. I was smiling. I was happy. I was okay with them having a good day, but they weren't...not anymore.

You know that rain cloud that follows Eeyore? That was me. Now, this is a far cry from "Tigger" which I TOTALLY am...(have even had this confirmed on Facebook, the leader in academically sound online quizzes) Anyway, the salon mood suffered a serious blow and it was all my fault. Heck, I thought wearing pink was cheery...well, maybe not when paired with prosthetic boobs and MedicAlert bracelet latched around your wrist.

Oh, well. At least I left pretty quickly. Getting your head shaved doesn't really take that long...

Big Daddy picked the kids up from practice at 6, and told them on the way home that Mom's head was shaved. They both said "ok" and that was it. Later that night, I mentioned it, but they already knew. Ok. Still no big deal. I figured they would ask if they wanted to see and I would just keep my head paraphernalia on until they did. This lasted until Saturday night when I balanced a dog in one hand, the obedient one underfoot, an empty ice cream bowl in the other hand, and some things that needed to be recycled. I had been cleaning our bedroom and had just loaded up like usual and headed downstairs. Beautiful Daughter was asleep and Precious Son was in the dining room on my laptop.

"Precious Son, I am on the stairs and coming down. My head is not covered and I am too tired, lazy, or unwilling to go back up and cover my head. However, feel free to look, not look, or cover your eyes. It won't hurt my feelings."

"Ok."

So, I came on down the stairs, let the dogs out, and recycled. He looked. He also said, "Mom, it isn't that bad". I agreed and sat down with him at the table and cried. Huh? What happened to me being okay with all this shaved head stuff? Why was I crying?!??!?!? Where did I go???

No clue.

I told Precious Son that I was so very sorry he had to go through this and that I would never do anything intentionally to hurt or embarrass him. I went on and on for a minute or so and he stopped me. Precious Son put his hand on my leg and said "Mom? You know you are the one fighting cancer and not me, right? I'm not going through anything but watching you deal with this. I'm fine and I know you will be okay. It's just hard right now. But you are certainly not an embarrassment to me."

Wow.

Then Big Daddy started coming toward the dining room, so I got myself together, grabbed something very important like a fridge magnet or grilling tong and headed back upstairs. I didn't want Big Daddy to see me upset...it hurts too much...not to mention, I was FINE!!! I just don't know where I went!!!

I really was fine and went on folding clothes and watching "The Soup" on VH1. Hilarious. Anyway, it was just a fluke, I guess, because I had not cried before and have not cried since and today is Sunday! *smile*

Of course, there are times when I can just look at our children and cry...but that has always been the case, not just since the call came. It must be that weird "mommy" hormone that also makes you want to beat up little kids that hurt your kid's feelings or tattle on some smoking teenager, not because they are ruining their lungs but because they started a rumor about your kid because your kid tattled on them for smoking. Sad, but true, but like I said before, I have issues.

Anyway, as a means of preparation, I had thought of all the things I would be able to save on once my hair came out...
Shampoo
Conditioner
Haircuts (sorry, Donna)
Headbands
Brushes, Combs, and Picks (electrocution-curly, remember??)
Mousse
Gel
Hairspray
Coloring (like anyone believed I was a natural deep auburn tint with a splash of gold highlights)
And of course, Ponytail Holders because after all that prep work, my hair would still look stupid and I would pull it back.

*CUE GEORGE MICHAEL'S "FREEDOM"*

Honestly, after we left the beauty salon, I felt kind of liberated. We headed to get me a frozen Coke and then to the bank. Things were back to normal in no time... I asked Big Daddy if I looked appalling or horrific or worst-of-all ugly, and he said "Are you kidding me? I see crazy people wearing too much pink all the time..."

That Big Daddy....He's a hoot.