I had asked Beautiful Daughter to watch the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade with me. I was there for the introductory floats all the way through Santa and his elves waving and singing with children in unison. She came in for a while, but was not as amused as I was (as I always am), so she went to her room and got ready for our big dinner with friends. I finally heard Precious Son awaken and so I asked if he would come watch the parade with me. He did. We had some commentary on the marching bands and music, but mostly we just laid in bed, watching the parade and talking. I did ask Beautiful Daughter to rejoin us for Santa's arrival and she agreed. (You do know that is the most important part of the parade, right??)
It was while we were talking that an idea hit me like a bolt of lightening and I became quiet as I processed the thought over and over in my head...
"What if they don't come back when they leave???? What if they turn 18, go off to college, and never want to share another holiday with us or a family vacation or anything?!??!?!!? What would I do???"
The past seventeen years with our children have absolutely and honestly f-l-o-w-n by. My baby just turned 17. He can drive. He can almost vote. He can almost go off to war. Our other baby will be 15 in March. God. How is this even possible? And now, as we apply for colleges and gather all sorts of information necessary to apply for a higher education, I realize that it's practically over. Done. Finito. And I blew it.
We didn't do all the things I had wanted to do before they left the nest and now, NOW, I have less than a year??? All of a sudden, as I am watching Spongebob, the 13 story float navigate his way through 7th Avenue, it hits me. I am out of time. We never went to Niagara Falls. We never went to South Dakota to see Mt. Rushmore. We never drove up north to eat fresh lobster off the coast of Maine or drive through Vermont in the fall. (The whole "going to Hawaii" thing is really more about a HUGE anniversary, so I am not upset about not having done that one yet...) Anyway, here I was with my son next to me watching the very parade I had wanted to take them to see before they were grown and I was as far away from New York and Macy's as if I were on the moon.
Talk about having the breath knocked out of somebody.
Precious Son was asking me a question so I had to regroup and focus. Neither of them an easy task between my "chemo brain fog" and the frightful thoughts I was having about our kids leaving home and never coming back.
"They look amazing, don't they?", he asked me...
I answered skillfully and with considerable deliberation, "Uhhhhhhhhhhh..."
Precious Son then added, "Adair County. They look amazing. I am so glad they were able to go this year. They work so hard and are so small."
Oh. Oh. Oh. Adair County. Yes, Yes. Yes. "Oh Honey, it's true! They are really talented and dedicated kids. I am happy they made it to the parade."
*Adair County, Kentucky. Population is much less than the larger populous counties such as Jefferson County (Louisville) and Fayette County (Lexington)*
We finished watching the parade and yes, Beautiful Daughter did rejoin us in time for Santa and his elves to officially ring in the Christmas season. The parade ended and the rest of us got ready to leave out for our Thanksgiving feast with Alice and Joe. I didn't have time to think about my fears for a good twenty minutes, but man, as soon as I had a captive audience in the Suburban...
Actually, we talked about other things on the way to Alice and Joe's. I decided to table the "when-you-turn-18-do-you-think-you-will-ever-come-back-to-me-and-daddy-for-vacations-or-holidays-or-special-events-that-should-be-celebrated-with-family-because-family-is-what-really-matters-and-if-you-all-could-just-promise-me-and-give-me-some-reassurance-I-think-our-day-will-be-better-ok-MY-day-will-be-better-because-I-am-shallow-and-while-I-do-want-you-to-be-happy-with-your-own-lives-I-still-need-to-know-that-you-will-have-room-in-your-hearts-for-me-and-daddy" conversation. I mean, really, we had the whole drive home for that!
Thanksgiving was wonderful. The friends were fantastic and the food was beyond delicious. We visited, played games, ate, and ate, and ate. Yummmmm. I actually had the best corn pudding I have ever tasted. Alice had made two pumpkin pies from scratch...as in, she cooked the pumpkins, scooped out the pumpkin stuff, and made pies out of it. I don't think I even knew that was an option. If we all did that, what would Libby's do???? You know, I don't have a single recipe that calls for fresh pumpkin. What has this world come to? It should always be fresh...like salsa or pico de gallo!!
I guess we had not been there more than ten minutes when Sharon and Dennis came in. Where Alice and Joe are Bab's parents, Sharon and Dennis are Ken's parents. Babs and Ken married at 18. High school sweethearts and the whole nine. They have raised children, seen tremendous tragedy, worked jobs, worshiped, argued, been in love, and been ready to spit nails. They are the typical, American family. They live their lives Sunday through Sunday with an honesty and realness that is humbling. They don't go to church on Sunday and pretend to be perfect people with the perfect house and the perfect kids and then have the ceiling fall in Monday morning. Nope. What you see is what you get and the very fact that they are about to celebrate their twentieth wedding anniversary speaks volumes...especially in a world where "playing perfect" is the norm so that we don't even realize that the "norm" is not dysfunctional at all, but rather just "real".
When Sharon and Dennis came in, the weirdest thing happened. Alice stopped what she was doing and met Sharon halfway and the two women hugged. They were genuinely happy to see each other. Sharon brought in a bunch of food and these two ladies sorted through everything and arranged it all so beautifully. They talked and giggled and made jokes about the amount of food on each other's plate. These women were friends!!! That's when it occurred to me...these women were each other's in laws!!! What?!?!?!?
I played out the whole thing in my head...Babs and Ken had married twenty-one years ago but that never meant for one second that Alice and Sharon had to like each other! I was so incredibly humbled by the friendship these women not only share today, but have shared the past two decades, I was almost moved to tears. In a world where so much can and does go wrong, God had joined together what no man could put asunder. God said that. Mark 10:9.
Which brings me to the ride home...Precious Son initiated the "I Am Thankful For" portion of tonight's show. Big Daddy started...
" I am thankful for each of you. The people that you are. The people you have become. I am thankful Mommy is fighting so hard to beat this disease. I am thankful that we got our priorities straight and now put family first instead of assuming we have all the time in the world. I am thankful we no longer take time or life for granted. I am thankful that my life turned out exactly like I wanted it to and that I have you as my family. You all are my world and without you I am nothing."
I was supposed to go next but was crying like a big ole baby, so Beautiful Daughter added her list of things for which she is thankful...
"This may sound weird or not like a thanksgiving thing, but I am thankful for it. When we first found out about Mommy being sick, I thought she was going to die right away. I know now that she isn't because she is still here and fighting so hard. I am thankful Mommy is here. I am also thankful for our friends and family, even the ones who live far away and we never get to see. I am very thankful that we have such great people in our lives like Babs & Ken and Uncle Bill & Elay. They make us so happy and we have such a great time with them. I am thankful that Daddy is with us more and that we are always doing things as a family now. I am thankful for our church and our youth minister and his wife. I am thankful for Precious Son's girlfriend because he loves her. I am thankful for my family and all the love we have as a family."
If you need to stop and get a tissue, go ahead, because even as I type, I am totally bawling.
So, I went next...
"The first one will sound completely selfish...well, because it is, but it has been a catalyst for change in me as a wife, a mother, and as a person. I am thankful that I know how Daddy feels about me with his whole heart. I am thankful that God blessed me with a marriage to the absolute love of my life before I ever allowed myself to believe that he was. I am thankful for where our family is and how our priorities have changed, placing family first. I am incredibly thankful for the deluge of support from our family and friends since the call came and for the new friends we have made since then. I am thankful that God gave me another chance to be a better wife, a better mother, a better friend and I have every intention of making each moment count as I become better for each of you."
Bawllllllllllllllllllllllling.....
Precious Son went last. He likes to do that. He holds the anchor position in a lot of family discussion stuff...
"First of all, I am thankful for each of you. I am thankful that Mom is doing so well with everything. I am thankful she is fighting so hard to win this and I am thankful God allowed us to find it early because Mom's chances are so much better at winning. We have not battled a lot of major tragedies as a family and I am very grateful for that. I know there are a lot of things going on in our country with financial crisis, job loss, and illness, but God has blessed us so abundantly. We are always thankful for our troops and their sacrifices and Dad, I am proud that you served our country. I am thankful that Dad is such an amazing provider that we haven't even noticed a recession or financial hardship that I know of. Maybe we have. I don't pay the bills, so I really don't know, but I do know that Mom has been able to be off from work and Dad has made everything work out so she can be home and get better and I am thankful for the Dad I have to take care of us like that. I think a lot of the person I am is because of who my Dad is. You work harder than anyone and never complain. You never get tired or quit. You make things happen. We have everything. I am thankful for the dedication you show to us as your family. I am thankful for my relationship with God and for all the people He has placed in my life. I am thankful for the time with you guys that I never knew we were missing. Mom, I am thankful for your sense of humor and disposition. You make me happy and I love you more than you know. I know you think I won't understand the depth of your love for me until I have my own child, but I think of you as my child because I feel like I need to take care of you. I feel like you need me. I love being around you and when I am, my day is better. I love you, Mom."
Cry. Cry. Cry.
In the blink of an eye, it all came together...
Of course our children would come home to us for holidays and even go on vacations and such because what God hath joined together, no man hath put asunder...and I am thankful.
Thursday, November 26, 2009
Monday, November 23, 2009
Claim Denied
So, there was one more thing I learned while at chemo the other day that I failed to mention. Honestly, I just did not want to get into it...deal with it...face it. A couple of days later and here I am...with it.
Herceptin is breast cancer specific chemotherapy. It is also the most expensive form of chemo available today. Maybe because it is relatively new or because of what it can do in regard to pinpointing the cancer site. I don't know. All I do know is that my insurance company has denied my having it.
As we know, I was to undergo four "hard chemo" treatments with the Taxotere, the real poison, if you will, as far as side effects, etc. After those first four treatments, I would graduate to only Herceptin, once every three weeks, just as I take chemo now. Herceptin does not wreak havoc on your body the way the Taxotere does. In fact, there are few side effects associated with it. My hair will grow back. My nausea and vomiting will decrease. It's all good with Herceptin. This is what I have been waiting for. Chemo that does not kill you while trying to heal you.
The past four chemo treatments have included Herceptin in my cocktail. It has been Herceptin, Taxotere, and something else...all followed by a saline chaser. Herceptin is over $6,000 per dosage. This means I have been denied over $24,000 in chemotherapy coverage for the past four treatments. It's ok. I'll just write a check.
Now, I am scheduled to have Herceptin for the rest of my calendar year, which will end October 2010. So, at $6,000 a pop, once every three weeks for a year...that means I will only owe $104,000. Chump change, right? Since I am terrible at math, I will tell you how I came up with that figure, in case it is wrong...
52 weeks divided by 3 = 17.333
17.333 chemo treatments @ $6,000 = $104,000
Now, of course, my oncologist is writing a "letter of medical necessity" and I am hopeful that his course of action and care will be weighted appropriately against the expert knowledge of the insurance adjuster, as in NOT an oncologist. Ugh. In other words, my life could be in the hands of an angry, maladjusted depressed man who hates women because his mother made him wear bow ties to church on Sundays. Hey, it could happen. Hopefully it won't, but it could and you know it.
Lucy says that at this point, I must simply turn this over to Dr. Horn and allow him to fight this battle. He knows what he is doing and has surely done it before. The thing is, I like to fight my own battles and I like to be in charge of decisions which effect me so personally and profoundly. This fight, even though it is about me, has nothing to do with me. I am a subscriber number...I am not a person with a family or friends or hopes or dreams or passions to make the world a better place. I am an over-priced cancer patient who may not be worth the cost of saving.
I am a "Claim Denied".
Herceptin is breast cancer specific chemotherapy. It is also the most expensive form of chemo available today. Maybe because it is relatively new or because of what it can do in regard to pinpointing the cancer site. I don't know. All I do know is that my insurance company has denied my having it.
As we know, I was to undergo four "hard chemo" treatments with the Taxotere, the real poison, if you will, as far as side effects, etc. After those first four treatments, I would graduate to only Herceptin, once every three weeks, just as I take chemo now. Herceptin does not wreak havoc on your body the way the Taxotere does. In fact, there are few side effects associated with it. My hair will grow back. My nausea and vomiting will decrease. It's all good with Herceptin. This is what I have been waiting for. Chemo that does not kill you while trying to heal you.
The past four chemo treatments have included Herceptin in my cocktail. It has been Herceptin, Taxotere, and something else...all followed by a saline chaser. Herceptin is over $6,000 per dosage. This means I have been denied over $24,000 in chemotherapy coverage for the past four treatments. It's ok. I'll just write a check.
Now, I am scheduled to have Herceptin for the rest of my calendar year, which will end October 2010. So, at $6,000 a pop, once every three weeks for a year...that means I will only owe $104,000. Chump change, right? Since I am terrible at math, I will tell you how I came up with that figure, in case it is wrong...
52 weeks divided by 3 = 17.333
17.333 chemo treatments @ $6,000 = $104,000
Now, of course, my oncologist is writing a "letter of medical necessity" and I am hopeful that his course of action and care will be weighted appropriately against the expert knowledge of the insurance adjuster, as in NOT an oncologist. Ugh. In other words, my life could be in the hands of an angry, maladjusted depressed man who hates women because his mother made him wear bow ties to church on Sundays. Hey, it could happen. Hopefully it won't, but it could and you know it.
Lucy says that at this point, I must simply turn this over to Dr. Horn and allow him to fight this battle. He knows what he is doing and has surely done it before. The thing is, I like to fight my own battles and I like to be in charge of decisions which effect me so personally and profoundly. This fight, even though it is about me, has nothing to do with me. I am a subscriber number...I am not a person with a family or friends or hopes or dreams or passions to make the world a better place. I am an over-priced cancer patient who may not be worth the cost of saving.
I am a "Claim Denied".
Saturday, November 21, 2009
Things I Learned at Chemo Today
1. Oprah is leaving her show next year...which means I could easily fit into the 4pm slot for MY talkshow. However, I will not go against Ellen, because she will be the one who discovers me, so I am guessing Dr. Oz will move into the 4 o'clock slot and I will start out my tv talkshow career in the morning hours.
2. It is still necessary, even in a chemo infusion setting, to make sure you check the public toilet seat for urine because there may be a man receiving chemo who refuses to lift the seat.
3. Friends are the reason we become better people for our families.
4. It is not worth it to get upset about things we cannot change, even when there has been a medication mixup that could potentially exacerbate negative side effects from chemo. People make mistakes...forgive them so the favor will be repaid to you and me when we mess up.
5. Trauma and tragedy can open doors that docile life cannot.
6. There is nothing better than hearing the sounds of your family and friends laughing.
7. Sometimes accepting help is providing a blessing to the ones offering it.
8. Expect less...you will be happy more.
9. Make plans anyway.
10. Love deeply. Forgive immediately. Treasure the moments.
2. It is still necessary, even in a chemo infusion setting, to make sure you check the public toilet seat for urine because there may be a man receiving chemo who refuses to lift the seat.
3. Friends are the reason we become better people for our families.
4. It is not worth it to get upset about things we cannot change, even when there has been a medication mixup that could potentially exacerbate negative side effects from chemo. People make mistakes...forgive them so the favor will be repaid to you and me when we mess up.
5. Trauma and tragedy can open doors that docile life cannot.
6. There is nothing better than hearing the sounds of your family and friends laughing.
7. Sometimes accepting help is providing a blessing to the ones offering it.
8. Expect less...you will be happy more.
9. Make plans anyway.
10. Love deeply. Forgive immediately. Treasure the moments.
Friday, November 20, 2009
Fourth Chemo Treatment 11-20-09
It is going on 6am and I cannot sleep. I have tried to sleep all night, without much success. I have tossed and turned and woke up every hour on the hour. Even the best meds cannot make you sleep when you are so incredibly preoccupied with something as large and daunting as chemotherapy.
The effects have been the same but different, each time. Kind of like Forrest Gump and his box of chocolates....I never know what I am going to get. Seemingly, I have been prescribed anti-effect medicines better than ever before and am hopeful that I will have the same success with defeating the monsters this go 'round. Please do not think for a moment though, that success in combat warrants less of a war. This is still a war. A war against my body and my mind...against my willpower and my sanity. A war waged toward my healing and having a life as poison is injected into my veins beginning with my jugular. Please never discount the monumental undertaking that chemo presents to someone. Even with drugs that offset the side effects, they are still fighting for their life and that is a scary place to be...
My mind races with "what if's" and "did this get done"... Our kids are leaving for their Fall Retreat after school today, so they will be gone all weekend, home on Sunday afternoon. It is a Christian retreat for high schoolers and they are very excited. They have gone every year, having started in elemetary school, and come back rejuvenated spiritually. I think they may be a bit afraid to leave for this one, though, as the last one they went on this summer had them on a spiritual high that was hard to touch...and then they came home and were told I had cancer. They are both concerned, knowing that I have chemo today and what all that entails, that they may very well come home on Sunday with more bad news. I hope not for their sakes.
Honestly, wouldn't one think that I am running out of things to go awry, anyway? I mean really, back surgery?!?!?!? In the middle of chemo?!??!?!?!? Being diagnosed with a degenerative disorder that I didn't know I had...that is being aggravated and accelerated by the chemotherapy for the cancer I just discovered...WAAAAHHHHHHTTT??????? Seriously. Enough already. Mind you, I am NOT asking "what else can go wrong" because that is one of the most stupid questions anyone can ask. (Fool me once, shame on you...)
I have said repeatedly that I have never been happier and that is because of where the diagnosis of cancer landed our family. We have re-prioritized our lives to reflect our love and dedication to each other as a family and maritally, we have never been closer or ever relied more on each other. Relying on someone other than myself is something I have never been very good at...simply because I hate to. I mean, really, I worked almost 35 years on being independent...never needing anyone for anything and now, I am forced to accept help from family, friends, and even strangers, sometimes. Talk about re-prioritizing. The very core of who I am, was, as a person, has been re-routed to someone I really have no clue on how to be. Maybe I am happier than ever because I am simply stupefied by my new roles. Maybe I am happier than ever because being independent was not all it was cracked up to be...because being independent also means being alone.
What happens when I go back to work and my family's routine is "back to normal"? Will our priorities shift again?
There are 168 hours in a full, 7-day week.
I work 40 hours.
My drive time bumps my work week hours to 55.
168 - 55 = 113 hours.
113-56 sleep time (8*7) = 57 hours in a week
57 hours does not sound like much time, does it?
I won't be home when the kids get home from school, which is now around 4pm since band season is over. I won't have dinner on the table every night at 6pm because I will just be walking in the door. Laundry won't be kept up because I won't keep a load going every day. There won't be plenty of milk because I can just run to the store and grab some every other day. There won't be dishes to be put away because I won't be here to wash them. There won't be doctor appointments scheduled willy-nilly because I am always free right now. The house being cleaned? Well, that will be better because Big Daddy hired someone to clean for us, but still...that was MY job. There won't be cuddle time on the couch as Big Daddy and I watch Ellen to see if THIS is the day she will say my name on her show...and there won't be "hot chocolate-milkshake time" for Beautiful Daughter and Precious Son because there will be things that need to be done and time for the miniature escapes will be limited to "after homework is done" or "after chores are finished"... In other words, back to the same old, same old and no time.
I don't want that.
So, as I face today's chemotherapy, I am obviously overwhelmed with how to preserve this lifestyle of treasuring each moment and not fall back into the trappings of the "work-work-work schedule" that has dominated our lives for so very long. I love sitting on Beautiful Daughter's bed in the mornings as she gets ready for school...just talking...just singing along with songs playing on the radio or tv countdown. I can do this because I am not getting ready for work... I love making breakfast for my family each morning and having them start the day with a full belly. I adore watching the sports highlights with Precious Son as he narrates what went on last night to an audience (me) who knows absolutely nothing about sports...but he tells me anyway because he truly believes I can be taught. Sweet, sweet, naive boy.
So, what do I do? How do I remain the wife and mother I have become through God's provision throughout this cancer battle? How do I not get sucked back into the lifestyle/workstyle I have become so accustomed to? Bigger question...how do I be the wife and mother my family deserves in only 57 hours? My mind races. I just don't want to miss "life"...the life with my husband, the life with our kids, the life with our family and friends.
I don't want to miss the perfect shot on my camera because I didn't have time to stop to take the picture. I don't want to not go somewhere on the Harley with my husband because I have this appointment or this task to accomplish. I don't want to reschedule time with one of my kids because there was a deadline. I don't want to miss out on a friend's birthday party, bridal shower, or baby shower because I didn't have the time to go. I don't want to miss out on life because I was too busy NOT living it. Each of these examples have happened to me...have they happened to you?
I guess I am just nervous about this chemo treatment, like always...but I guess I am also more cognizant of what all I have gained from having them as a result of having cancer. I gained time. I remember the first appointment with Dr. Horn, my oncologist, when he was explaining to us about how long chemo takes. I about flipped. He was telling us that chemo treatments take around four-five hours each time, with the first one being around 6-8 hours. (and it was 8 hours) I was like, "You have GOT to be kidding me!!! That's forever!!! There is no way I can stay in one place for that long and not even go home with a baby!!!" However, he was right and there I have been for hours and hours at a time...watching Big Daddy and Babs sit in the most uncomfortable chairs while I am infused with poison to save my life. Ironic on so many levels, yes?
I am not sure why I have cancer but I am beginning to think that God is wanting me to learn some things about how time can be your best friend or your worst enemy...about how a marriage can be all the fairytale things you dreamed it would be...about how much simplistic joy can be derived from singing a song with your teenage daughter as you roll down the street with the windows down and acting silly...about how having the time to listen about a bad grade or a missed assignment can make the world of difference to a straight-A student who got caught up in a girlfriend issue...about how life is not about fitting your family in but rather, fitting the other stuff in around your family.
I worry about going back to work because I love work...I love being there and I love my friends there. I love contributing to a bigger cause and I love contributing significantly to our financial plans and goals as a family. I will still be battling cancer while at work but my main concern is the battle for time with my family and making my life count with them. I don't want to die on Monday and be forgotten on Thursday. I want to live and make a difference to a LOT of people. I want to be better. I want to try harder. I want to be someone who matters. All this says to me is that I better get busy harnessing the gift of time and using it wisely. Of prioritizing and doing the things I believe matter past my death. I want to volunteer with the homeless veterans, I want to work with special needs children, I want to feed the hungry, I want to have my work published so that someone, somewhere was changed for the better because they read it...I want to be an awesome wife, a fantastic mother, a wonderful friend, a strong and loving Christian.
I have so much to do and I pray I am right in that God is showing me and will continue to show me how to do it all and do it all well. I have not mastered "time"...but I have decided that time will no longer master me.
The effects have been the same but different, each time. Kind of like Forrest Gump and his box of chocolates....I never know what I am going to get. Seemingly, I have been prescribed anti-effect medicines better than ever before and am hopeful that I will have the same success with defeating the monsters this go 'round. Please do not think for a moment though, that success in combat warrants less of a war. This is still a war. A war against my body and my mind...against my willpower and my sanity. A war waged toward my healing and having a life as poison is injected into my veins beginning with my jugular. Please never discount the monumental undertaking that chemo presents to someone. Even with drugs that offset the side effects, they are still fighting for their life and that is a scary place to be...
My mind races with "what if's" and "did this get done"... Our kids are leaving for their Fall Retreat after school today, so they will be gone all weekend, home on Sunday afternoon. It is a Christian retreat for high schoolers and they are very excited. They have gone every year, having started in elemetary school, and come back rejuvenated spiritually. I think they may be a bit afraid to leave for this one, though, as the last one they went on this summer had them on a spiritual high that was hard to touch...and then they came home and were told I had cancer. They are both concerned, knowing that I have chemo today and what all that entails, that they may very well come home on Sunday with more bad news. I hope not for their sakes.
Honestly, wouldn't one think that I am running out of things to go awry, anyway? I mean really, back surgery?!?!?!? In the middle of chemo?!??!?!?!? Being diagnosed with a degenerative disorder that I didn't know I had...that is being aggravated and accelerated by the chemotherapy for the cancer I just discovered...WAAAAHHHHHHTTT??????? Seriously. Enough already. Mind you, I am NOT asking "what else can go wrong" because that is one of the most stupid questions anyone can ask. (Fool me once, shame on you...)
I have said repeatedly that I have never been happier and that is because of where the diagnosis of cancer landed our family. We have re-prioritized our lives to reflect our love and dedication to each other as a family and maritally, we have never been closer or ever relied more on each other. Relying on someone other than myself is something I have never been very good at...simply because I hate to. I mean, really, I worked almost 35 years on being independent...never needing anyone for anything and now, I am forced to accept help from family, friends, and even strangers, sometimes. Talk about re-prioritizing. The very core of who I am, was, as a person, has been re-routed to someone I really have no clue on how to be. Maybe I am happier than ever because I am simply stupefied by my new roles. Maybe I am happier than ever because being independent was not all it was cracked up to be...because being independent also means being alone.
What happens when I go back to work and my family's routine is "back to normal"? Will our priorities shift again?
There are 168 hours in a full, 7-day week.
I work 40 hours.
My drive time bumps my work week hours to 55.
168 - 55 = 113 hours.
113-56 sleep time (8*7) = 57 hours in a week
57 hours does not sound like much time, does it?
I won't be home when the kids get home from school, which is now around 4pm since band season is over. I won't have dinner on the table every night at 6pm because I will just be walking in the door. Laundry won't be kept up because I won't keep a load going every day. There won't be plenty of milk because I can just run to the store and grab some every other day. There won't be dishes to be put away because I won't be here to wash them. There won't be doctor appointments scheduled willy-nilly because I am always free right now. The house being cleaned? Well, that will be better because Big Daddy hired someone to clean for us, but still...that was MY job. There won't be cuddle time on the couch as Big Daddy and I watch Ellen to see if THIS is the day she will say my name on her show...and there won't be "hot chocolate-milkshake time" for Beautiful Daughter and Precious Son because there will be things that need to be done and time for the miniature escapes will be limited to "after homework is done" or "after chores are finished"... In other words, back to the same old, same old and no time.
I don't want that.
So, as I face today's chemotherapy, I am obviously overwhelmed with how to preserve this lifestyle of treasuring each moment and not fall back into the trappings of the "work-work-work schedule" that has dominated our lives for so very long. I love sitting on Beautiful Daughter's bed in the mornings as she gets ready for school...just talking...just singing along with songs playing on the radio or tv countdown. I can do this because I am not getting ready for work... I love making breakfast for my family each morning and having them start the day with a full belly. I adore watching the sports highlights with Precious Son as he narrates what went on last night to an audience (me) who knows absolutely nothing about sports...but he tells me anyway because he truly believes I can be taught. Sweet, sweet, naive boy.
So, what do I do? How do I remain the wife and mother I have become through God's provision throughout this cancer battle? How do I not get sucked back into the lifestyle/workstyle I have become so accustomed to? Bigger question...how do I be the wife and mother my family deserves in only 57 hours? My mind races. I just don't want to miss "life"...the life with my husband, the life with our kids, the life with our family and friends.
I don't want to miss the perfect shot on my camera because I didn't have time to stop to take the picture. I don't want to not go somewhere on the Harley with my husband because I have this appointment or this task to accomplish. I don't want to reschedule time with one of my kids because there was a deadline. I don't want to miss out on a friend's birthday party, bridal shower, or baby shower because I didn't have the time to go. I don't want to miss out on life because I was too busy NOT living it. Each of these examples have happened to me...have they happened to you?
I guess I am just nervous about this chemo treatment, like always...but I guess I am also more cognizant of what all I have gained from having them as a result of having cancer. I gained time. I remember the first appointment with Dr. Horn, my oncologist, when he was explaining to us about how long chemo takes. I about flipped. He was telling us that chemo treatments take around four-five hours each time, with the first one being around 6-8 hours. (and it was 8 hours) I was like, "You have GOT to be kidding me!!! That's forever!!! There is no way I can stay in one place for that long and not even go home with a baby!!!" However, he was right and there I have been for hours and hours at a time...watching Big Daddy and Babs sit in the most uncomfortable chairs while I am infused with poison to save my life. Ironic on so many levels, yes?
I am not sure why I have cancer but I am beginning to think that God is wanting me to learn some things about how time can be your best friend or your worst enemy...about how a marriage can be all the fairytale things you dreamed it would be...about how much simplistic joy can be derived from singing a song with your teenage daughter as you roll down the street with the windows down and acting silly...about how having the time to listen about a bad grade or a missed assignment can make the world of difference to a straight-A student who got caught up in a girlfriend issue...about how life is not about fitting your family in but rather, fitting the other stuff in around your family.
I worry about going back to work because I love work...I love being there and I love my friends there. I love contributing to a bigger cause and I love contributing significantly to our financial plans and goals as a family. I will still be battling cancer while at work but my main concern is the battle for time with my family and making my life count with them. I don't want to die on Monday and be forgotten on Thursday. I want to live and make a difference to a LOT of people. I want to be better. I want to try harder. I want to be someone who matters. All this says to me is that I better get busy harnessing the gift of time and using it wisely. Of prioritizing and doing the things I believe matter past my death. I want to volunteer with the homeless veterans, I want to work with special needs children, I want to feed the hungry, I want to have my work published so that someone, somewhere was changed for the better because they read it...I want to be an awesome wife, a fantastic mother, a wonderful friend, a strong and loving Christian.
I have so much to do and I pray I am right in that God is showing me and will continue to show me how to do it all and do it all well. I have not mastered "time"...but I have decided that time will no longer master me.
Thursday, November 19, 2009
Back Surgery 11-16-09
At the hospital, I pre-registered and no, none of my information had changed since I was there a month ago. Same address, same medical history, same insurance. I filled out all the paperwork and signed on the dotted lines. Surgery was scheduled for Monday, November 16th...the first day back from Indianapolis and the wonderful time we had.
I was told to arrive at 6:30am, so we did...and then we were told to come back at 9. There had been some sort of scheduling conflict and no one bothered to call us. Shocked? I wasn't. We just headed home and got the kids off to school. I hated not being there to do that anyway, so it all worked out. Big Daddy and I headed back to the hospital and things went along quite quickly.
I was escorted to the pre-op area and yet again, Big Daddy was not allowed to come with me. I don't even know why to be honest. All they do is weigh me, get my vitals, and start the IV. Oh wait. Maybe that's why. Still, to this day, I do not understand why people refuse to believe me when I say "I am a hard stick". Is it some sort of challenge to a nurse to get an IV going on a "hard stick"? Is there a pool where everyone puts in fifty cents for every hard stick? While unclear as to the unwillingness to believe me, I am very clear that it took 7, as in s-e-v-e-n sticks for the IV to get started on this Monday. Seven sticks, people. Eventually, the winner of the Hard Stick contest was a neo-natal nurse who had been called down from her floor. Yes, boys and girls, I have baby veins. What a treat.
With the IV started, I was given some medicine to relax me. Of course, at this point I was more curious as to why I had not been given it BEFORE the seven sticks on the top of my hand, but whatever. It didn't work anyway. It never does. In fact, I am still waiting for the "relaxing medicine" to kick in and it's Thursday.
Big Daddy was brought back to me after the IV was going and all was well. I had requested a chaplain for prayer, but he never showed up or if he did, I don't recall. I was wheeled to surgery and Big Daddy kissed me goodbye. I lay there on my gurney thinking "this is becoming old hat"... While in the surgery room, as I was being put under, my right arm felt like it was on fire and I tried to ask if this was normal, but I was rendered unconscious before I could get the words out. That stuff is FAST! Seriously, if I had been experiencing some sort of deadly reaction, I would not have been the one to tell anybody...
Surgery went fine and Big Daddy and Lucy were waiting for me in the recovery room. I would tell you what everyone said but I have no clue. The next memory I have is from Tuesday evening as I searched for something to eat. Yes, I do recall saltines with real butter and some mashed potatoes...
My back seems to be healing just fine. Of course, it may just be the Percocet that makes everything seem fine, what do I know? LOL I must be super careful and take it easy, which sounds easy enough, however, I have been doing that for months now, so it is not as easy as you might think. At this point, I merely take the Percocet and go lie down. It puts me right to sleep and I stay out of trouble. The laundry waits, dinner is not cooked, and the onslaught of mail just piles up...but I rest and that makes everyone happy.
There will come a day when I am well. Well enough to do all the things I took for granted before cancer, before back surgery, before the yellow warning light of my life turned red. I will walk my dogs again... I will shop Wal-Mart again... I will drive myself around town again... I will visit friends again... I will go to work again... I will make vacation plans with my family again...
I have decided that God has very big plans for me otherwise, what would He be preparing me for? I need to be ready...maybe resting up is a good idea after all.
I was told to arrive at 6:30am, so we did...and then we were told to come back at 9. There had been some sort of scheduling conflict and no one bothered to call us. Shocked? I wasn't. We just headed home and got the kids off to school. I hated not being there to do that anyway, so it all worked out. Big Daddy and I headed back to the hospital and things went along quite quickly.
I was escorted to the pre-op area and yet again, Big Daddy was not allowed to come with me. I don't even know why to be honest. All they do is weigh me, get my vitals, and start the IV. Oh wait. Maybe that's why. Still, to this day, I do not understand why people refuse to believe me when I say "I am a hard stick". Is it some sort of challenge to a nurse to get an IV going on a "hard stick"? Is there a pool where everyone puts in fifty cents for every hard stick? While unclear as to the unwillingness to believe me, I am very clear that it took 7, as in s-e-v-e-n sticks for the IV to get started on this Monday. Seven sticks, people. Eventually, the winner of the Hard Stick contest was a neo-natal nurse who had been called down from her floor. Yes, boys and girls, I have baby veins. What a treat.
With the IV started, I was given some medicine to relax me. Of course, at this point I was more curious as to why I had not been given it BEFORE the seven sticks on the top of my hand, but whatever. It didn't work anyway. It never does. In fact, I am still waiting for the "relaxing medicine" to kick in and it's Thursday.
Big Daddy was brought back to me after the IV was going and all was well. I had requested a chaplain for prayer, but he never showed up or if he did, I don't recall. I was wheeled to surgery and Big Daddy kissed me goodbye. I lay there on my gurney thinking "this is becoming old hat"... While in the surgery room, as I was being put under, my right arm felt like it was on fire and I tried to ask if this was normal, but I was rendered unconscious before I could get the words out. That stuff is FAST! Seriously, if I had been experiencing some sort of deadly reaction, I would not have been the one to tell anybody...
Surgery went fine and Big Daddy and Lucy were waiting for me in the recovery room. I would tell you what everyone said but I have no clue. The next memory I have is from Tuesday evening as I searched for something to eat. Yes, I do recall saltines with real butter and some mashed potatoes...
My back seems to be healing just fine. Of course, it may just be the Percocet that makes everything seem fine, what do I know? LOL I must be super careful and take it easy, which sounds easy enough, however, I have been doing that for months now, so it is not as easy as you might think. At this point, I merely take the Percocet and go lie down. It puts me right to sleep and I stay out of trouble. The laundry waits, dinner is not cooked, and the onslaught of mail just piles up...but I rest and that makes everyone happy.
There will come a day when I am well. Well enough to do all the things I took for granted before cancer, before back surgery, before the yellow warning light of my life turned red. I will walk my dogs again... I will shop Wal-Mart again... I will drive myself around town again... I will visit friends again... I will go to work again... I will make vacation plans with my family again...
I have decided that God has very big plans for me otherwise, what would He be preparing me for? I need to be ready...maybe resting up is a good idea after all.
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
Hoosier Hospitality
We had a blast! Indianapolis is a wonderful, friendly city. There is a rich architectural history that is mixed so well with contemporary settings that you never feel as though there is a contrast. The people of Indianapolis were incredibly kind and helpful. They call it "Hoosier Hospitality" and I liked it.
We stayed at the IUPUI Hotel and Conference Center which was a 4-Star hotel. The amenities were fabulous and the room was quite ritzy. I love ritzy. Being a hotel snob, ritzy works for me. I was not sure about the hotel until we arrived, but then I was sure we had done well. This was the same hotel the kids were staying in, so that is how we came to stay there instead of the usual Marriott chain.
Now, the kids arrived at Lucas Oil Stadium on Thursday for Prelims and performed around 3pm. Then, after dinner and some more practice, they headed back home, about 3 hours away, arriving at 11pm. You see, if they did not attend school on Friday, then they would not be allowed to march on Saturday. Big Daddy and I stayed in Indy while Babs took care of the kids back home and made sure they made it to school on Friday.
Big Daddy and I enjoyed Indy so much on Friday! We shopped and toured and ate. I knew he loved me when he spent $23 on nothing but chocolate at the Chocolate Cafe. *smile* Now, THAT's love. We bought a few Christmas presents for the kids and took a lot of pictures. We ate some of the best food we have had and simply enjoyed our time together as we explored the downtown area. Indy is not only architecturally impressive, it is also quite pedestrian-friendly, which means a lot to someone who loves walking and sight-seeing as much as I do.
The kids attended school on Friday, all 200+ of them, so that they could drive back, yet again, to Indy for the Semi-Finals on Saturday. Friday had them in school all day, then they practiced until 6pm, loaded the buses at 7pm, and ate dinner on the way back to Indianapolis. These kids were tired, to say the least. There were some delays on this trip with road construction, so their arrival time was much later than anticipated. This was not good news for moms and dads worried about the lack of sleep and rest to begin with. The kids rolled into the hotel around midnight and went straight to their rooms. They looked so very tired...
Saturday morning came very early and the kids were awakened at 6:30. They had breakfast at 7am and were out at Carmel High School practicing by 8am. These kids are simply amazing. Their dedication and determination humbles me. As I mentioned, there are over 200 kids in this marching band and every one of them is 100% committed. It is something to behold.
The kids came back and started getting ready for their show. Now, the process of getting ready takes about two hours between getting into uniforms, putting on show makeup for the color guard girls, and doing hair. It is a s-h-o-w and everyone takes it very seriously. We have around another 100+ people who are volunteers. Parents and sponsors who work with the kids to make sure everything is taken care of. Without the volunteers, there would be no band. Food crews, chaperone crews, hair and make up crews, uniform crews, and the people in charge of logistics...it takes them all to ensure our kids are safe and where they need to be. In fact, this band is such a well-oiled machine that once we, the parents, check our children in, they are sequestered from everyone, including their parents. At first we did not like the idea, but through the years, we have not only come to like it but need it for reassurance. These people taking care of our show kids are veterans and know exactly what they are doing. We thank you!!
Semi-finals had us performing at 3pm on Saturday. The kids were dead on and their show was breathtaking. Everyone did a fabulous job. Finals would be announced at 6pm, so we watched other shows and waited. Considering we were at the Grand Nationals, we saw some of the most creative and interesting shows in the entire nation...and our kids were one of them. It was phenomenal. The talent being shown before us on the Indianapolis Colts stadium...wow. Again, ALL the kids participating were amazing. There was one show from Texas that literally took my breath away. It was simplistic and beautiful. The music resonated in my head for days. I could look through my mind's eye and see the colors of the flags as they perfectly complimented the uniforms of the marchers. It was like a fairytale coming to life. Simply beautiful. And so it was with other shows as we watched and enjoyed. We were having every sense stimulated as we watched show after show of those students who had made it this far...representing our fifty states. It was a wonderful, exhilarating time we were sharing with our friends in the stands and our children in the distance.
Finalists were announced. Our kids came in second place in their class. We were thrilled!! Second place in the nation...not bad at all. We were (and continue to be) so very proud. Of course, some seniors were sad because they did not come in first, however, other students were quick to point out that they had won the State competition last weekend and were heading home with a lot to be proud of. These kids build each other up because that is how they are. Band kids are special.
Big Daddy and I headed on home, stopping at Cracker Barrel so he could get some real old fashioned cooking that I am still incapable of providing twenty years into this marriage. LOL There is something about learning to cook "greens" that does not appeal to me anymore than learning to cook cornbread without sugar. So, I thank God for Cracker Barrel and the little old grannies with their cast iron skillets they must have stowed away in their kitchens.
The kids arrived back at school around 2:30am Sunday morning and we headed home. We did not see them until around 3pm Sunday afternoon. They were up long enough to eat and then went back to bed. Sounded good to us, so Big Daddy and I went back to bed, too. Monday showed up and the kids went to school and I went into surgery for my back. Alas, another post about that...but not before we thanked God for safe travel, healthy kids, and Hoosier Hospitality.
We stayed at the IUPUI Hotel and Conference Center which was a 4-Star hotel. The amenities were fabulous and the room was quite ritzy. I love ritzy. Being a hotel snob, ritzy works for me. I was not sure about the hotel until we arrived, but then I was sure we had done well. This was the same hotel the kids were staying in, so that is how we came to stay there instead of the usual Marriott chain.
Now, the kids arrived at Lucas Oil Stadium on Thursday for Prelims and performed around 3pm. Then, after dinner and some more practice, they headed back home, about 3 hours away, arriving at 11pm. You see, if they did not attend school on Friday, then they would not be allowed to march on Saturday. Big Daddy and I stayed in Indy while Babs took care of the kids back home and made sure they made it to school on Friday.
Big Daddy and I enjoyed Indy so much on Friday! We shopped and toured and ate. I knew he loved me when he spent $23 on nothing but chocolate at the Chocolate Cafe. *smile* Now, THAT's love. We bought a few Christmas presents for the kids and took a lot of pictures. We ate some of the best food we have had and simply enjoyed our time together as we explored the downtown area. Indy is not only architecturally impressive, it is also quite pedestrian-friendly, which means a lot to someone who loves walking and sight-seeing as much as I do.
The kids attended school on Friday, all 200+ of them, so that they could drive back, yet again, to Indy for the Semi-Finals on Saturday. Friday had them in school all day, then they practiced until 6pm, loaded the buses at 7pm, and ate dinner on the way back to Indianapolis. These kids were tired, to say the least. There were some delays on this trip with road construction, so their arrival time was much later than anticipated. This was not good news for moms and dads worried about the lack of sleep and rest to begin with. The kids rolled into the hotel around midnight and went straight to their rooms. They looked so very tired...
Saturday morning came very early and the kids were awakened at 6:30. They had breakfast at 7am and were out at Carmel High School practicing by 8am. These kids are simply amazing. Their dedication and determination humbles me. As I mentioned, there are over 200 kids in this marching band and every one of them is 100% committed. It is something to behold.
The kids came back and started getting ready for their show. Now, the process of getting ready takes about two hours between getting into uniforms, putting on show makeup for the color guard girls, and doing hair. It is a s-h-o-w and everyone takes it very seriously. We have around another 100+ people who are volunteers. Parents and sponsors who work with the kids to make sure everything is taken care of. Without the volunteers, there would be no band. Food crews, chaperone crews, hair and make up crews, uniform crews, and the people in charge of logistics...it takes them all to ensure our kids are safe and where they need to be. In fact, this band is such a well-oiled machine that once we, the parents, check our children in, they are sequestered from everyone, including their parents. At first we did not like the idea, but through the years, we have not only come to like it but need it for reassurance. These people taking care of our show kids are veterans and know exactly what they are doing. We thank you!!
Semi-finals had us performing at 3pm on Saturday. The kids were dead on and their show was breathtaking. Everyone did a fabulous job. Finals would be announced at 6pm, so we watched other shows and waited. Considering we were at the Grand Nationals, we saw some of the most creative and interesting shows in the entire nation...and our kids were one of them. It was phenomenal. The talent being shown before us on the Indianapolis Colts stadium...wow. Again, ALL the kids participating were amazing. There was one show from Texas that literally took my breath away. It was simplistic and beautiful. The music resonated in my head for days. I could look through my mind's eye and see the colors of the flags as they perfectly complimented the uniforms of the marchers. It was like a fairytale coming to life. Simply beautiful. And so it was with other shows as we watched and enjoyed. We were having every sense stimulated as we watched show after show of those students who had made it this far...representing our fifty states. It was a wonderful, exhilarating time we were sharing with our friends in the stands and our children in the distance.
Finalists were announced. Our kids came in second place in their class. We were thrilled!! Second place in the nation...not bad at all. We were (and continue to be) so very proud. Of course, some seniors were sad because they did not come in first, however, other students were quick to point out that they had won the State competition last weekend and were heading home with a lot to be proud of. These kids build each other up because that is how they are. Band kids are special.
Big Daddy and I headed on home, stopping at Cracker Barrel so he could get some real old fashioned cooking that I am still incapable of providing twenty years into this marriage. LOL There is something about learning to cook "greens" that does not appeal to me anymore than learning to cook cornbread without sugar. So, I thank God for Cracker Barrel and the little old grannies with their cast iron skillets they must have stowed away in their kitchens.
The kids arrived back at school around 2:30am Sunday morning and we headed home. We did not see them until around 3pm Sunday afternoon. They were up long enough to eat and then went back to bed. Sounded good to us, so Big Daddy and I went back to bed, too. Monday showed up and the kids went to school and I went into surgery for my back. Alas, another post about that...but not before we thanked God for safe travel, healthy kids, and Hoosier Hospitality.
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
Back Surgery on Monday, Nov 16th
Hey...not allowed to sit yet, so I can't be on the computer. However, the longer I lay in bed, the more topics I come up with to blog about, so stay tuned. May be on later today. Just depends. At this point, I don't think it is a good idea to write when on a double-shot of Percocet. Of course, it may be more entertaining if I were to... LOL
Thanks for the prayers, calls, texts, emails, food, and smoke signals. I am doing well...just missing being able to tell you what all is going on. Check in later tonight or tomorrow... Just typing this little bit has ignited the passion despite the pain...
I am a terrible patient. LOL
Thanks for the prayers, calls, texts, emails, food, and smoke signals. I am doing well...just missing being able to tell you what all is going on. Check in later tonight or tomorrow... Just typing this little bit has ignited the passion despite the pain...
I am a terrible patient. LOL
Friday, November 13, 2009
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
Lottery from Hell
Tuesday was a very busy day for me. I had a lot of things that needed to get done and had to work everything around my appointment with the neurosurgeon at 1pm. As you may or may not recall, my oncologist arranged the appointment with the neurosurgeon after my latest MRI showed "disc issues" which is why I was/am having the Pirate Peg Leg. As it turns out, the neurosurgeon has worked me into Monday's schedule for back surgery. Yes, THIS Monday. Yes, as in six days. Apparently, if surgery is not performed immediately, then all my sentences will end in "Argh, Matey!" and all punishments for all those in my charge, will be forced to "walk the plank".
I do not own a plank, therefore I must have the surgery...yes, in six days.
The medical jargon, while fun to pronounce because it makes me sound so very smart, is still beyond my comprehension, but I will try to explain what is going on... There had been some degenerative issues with one of my vertebrae for a while now, but I was unaware of it because of no symptoms. However, chemotherapy accelerates degenerative conditions and the breakdown of tissues already compromised. My inability to "clear stairs without concentrating" is becoming worse because the nerve damage is increasing at a rapid rate. The sooner the surgery is performed, the more likely I will be to regain full usage of my extremity. I will have to wear a brace for a while and undergo physical therapy. As for how long for both, I do not know. It all depends on the success of the surgery, my willingness to push myself in physical therapy to regain full mobility, and if I stumble upon some magic pixie dust.
I have always insisted that no one touch my back with a needle. No epidurals for childbirth or anything else. Now, outside of childbirth, no one has asked to touch my back with a needle, so that whole plan has worked out well...until, today when it became very apparent that I have somehow been given the winning ticket in the lottery from hell. I do not buy lottery tickets. I do not win anything, ever. In fact, if my name was the only name in a hat, you would draw out the "Made in Taiwan" tag before you would call my name. I never win anything!! Until now...and it's the lottery from hell. Now, ain't that sumthin'????
The hospital wanted to have me come in for pre-op labs this Friday, but I said "No, can do, missy, because we are leaving Thursday for Indianapolis to watch our kids perform in the Grand National Marching Band competition and I am NOT missing it." They were very nice about everything and I am able to have my labs Thursday morning before we leave. It's all about priorities, y'all. *smile*
So, my back surgery is scheduled for Monday, November 16th. It is outpatient surgery, so "no big" after all the other times I have been put under. Big Daddy is taking off, again, to take care of me, again. I can tell you this much, if you feel compelled to pray for somebody, make it Big Daddy. He has had to balance my medical schedules, my agenda, my moods, and my care with his career-job along with our personal business. This man is, as I have certainly said before, a-m-a-z-i-n-g. Not convinced? Add this to the mix...our daughter has her first real boyfriend...and they are kissing.
Anyway, to whomever purchased this winning lottery ticket from hell for me, hey, thanks. I think I know who you are, but there are two or three people to choose from, so I am not 100% sure. Oddly enough, all three people were once trusted members of my inner sanctum. That's okay, though. I will get through... I am actually becoming a better person for all this. Even when my disability claim was denied, thus no income until I go back to work in January...or even when my insurance company denied my chemotherapy drugs which total over $6,000...or even when all four tires on my Suburban had to be replaced last week for over $800...
You see, I used to place a lot of value and worth in money because I wanted to save it "just in case", and now "just in case" is here and I had not really saved much at all, but I learned something...it's just money. If I had not won the lottery from hell, then my friends at work would not have sent me $60.00 in gift coupons to Pizza Hut, which I used to take my family and a whole bunch of hungry teenagers to eat until their heart's content as our son celebrates turning 17. I was even inclined to pay for the table next to us, a mom and a little boy who ate as much as my teenagers were eating! I told our waitress to secretly add the other ticket to ours. Of course, the mom wound up asking who paid and she came over to the table and thanked me. Turns out, she is a foster mom and the little boy had just come out of a very abusive home and had a hard road ahead of him, but she found out he loves Pizza Hut pizza, and there they were.
I did not tell any of the kids what I had done, because to me, bragging about doing something nice detracts from the deed and makes you look self-serving. I know because I have served myself a LOT in the past, always looking for that kudos, that praise, of someone to be in awe of my humility. Man. What a dingbat. Anyway, I did not tell the kids but they asked after the mom and the little boy left. It was a great lesson for them because when asked why I did it, if I "knew" them, I said "no" and went on to explain that because of the generosity of others toward me, I wanted to do something nice for someone else. That's how it is with being nice...it's contagious.
I know that without being in the position I am in right now, I would not have even considered buying the meals of two total strangers not holding up a sign begging for help (because I do give money to people who do that, but that's another story...) Anyway, if I were not experiencing all that I am, I would have fed my family and their friends and called it a day. But, like I said, being where I am in my life right this very moment, I am becoming a better person and I like her. So again, whichever one of the three people who purchased this ticket for me, thank you. I think you are getting your money's worth, even if not the way you had hoped.
I do not own a plank, therefore I must have the surgery...yes, in six days.
The medical jargon, while fun to pronounce because it makes me sound so very smart, is still beyond my comprehension, but I will try to explain what is going on... There had been some degenerative issues with one of my vertebrae for a while now, but I was unaware of it because of no symptoms. However, chemotherapy accelerates degenerative conditions and the breakdown of tissues already compromised. My inability to "clear stairs without concentrating" is becoming worse because the nerve damage is increasing at a rapid rate. The sooner the surgery is performed, the more likely I will be to regain full usage of my extremity. I will have to wear a brace for a while and undergo physical therapy. As for how long for both, I do not know. It all depends on the success of the surgery, my willingness to push myself in physical therapy to regain full mobility, and if I stumble upon some magic pixie dust.
I have always insisted that no one touch my back with a needle. No epidurals for childbirth or anything else. Now, outside of childbirth, no one has asked to touch my back with a needle, so that whole plan has worked out well...until, today when it became very apparent that I have somehow been given the winning ticket in the lottery from hell. I do not buy lottery tickets. I do not win anything, ever. In fact, if my name was the only name in a hat, you would draw out the "Made in Taiwan" tag before you would call my name. I never win anything!! Until now...and it's the lottery from hell. Now, ain't that sumthin'????
The hospital wanted to have me come in for pre-op labs this Friday, but I said "No, can do, missy, because we are leaving Thursday for Indianapolis to watch our kids perform in the Grand National Marching Band competition and I am NOT missing it." They were very nice about everything and I am able to have my labs Thursday morning before we leave. It's all about priorities, y'all. *smile*
So, my back surgery is scheduled for Monday, November 16th. It is outpatient surgery, so "no big" after all the other times I have been put under. Big Daddy is taking off, again, to take care of me, again. I can tell you this much, if you feel compelled to pray for somebody, make it Big Daddy. He has had to balance my medical schedules, my agenda, my moods, and my care with his career-job along with our personal business. This man is, as I have certainly said before, a-m-a-z-i-n-g. Not convinced? Add this to the mix...our daughter has her first real boyfriend...and they are kissing.
Anyway, to whomever purchased this winning lottery ticket from hell for me, hey, thanks. I think I know who you are, but there are two or three people to choose from, so I am not 100% sure. Oddly enough, all three people were once trusted members of my inner sanctum. That's okay, though. I will get through... I am actually becoming a better person for all this. Even when my disability claim was denied, thus no income until I go back to work in January...or even when my insurance company denied my chemotherapy drugs which total over $6,000...or even when all four tires on my Suburban had to be replaced last week for over $800...
You see, I used to place a lot of value and worth in money because I wanted to save it "just in case", and now "just in case" is here and I had not really saved much at all, but I learned something...it's just money. If I had not won the lottery from hell, then my friends at work would not have sent me $60.00 in gift coupons to Pizza Hut, which I used to take my family and a whole bunch of hungry teenagers to eat until their heart's content as our son celebrates turning 17. I was even inclined to pay for the table next to us, a mom and a little boy who ate as much as my teenagers were eating! I told our waitress to secretly add the other ticket to ours. Of course, the mom wound up asking who paid and she came over to the table and thanked me. Turns out, she is a foster mom and the little boy had just come out of a very abusive home and had a hard road ahead of him, but she found out he loves Pizza Hut pizza, and there they were.
I did not tell any of the kids what I had done, because to me, bragging about doing something nice detracts from the deed and makes you look self-serving. I know because I have served myself a LOT in the past, always looking for that kudos, that praise, of someone to be in awe of my humility. Man. What a dingbat. Anyway, I did not tell the kids but they asked after the mom and the little boy left. It was a great lesson for them because when asked why I did it, if I "knew" them, I said "no" and went on to explain that because of the generosity of others toward me, I wanted to do something nice for someone else. That's how it is with being nice...it's contagious.
I know that without being in the position I am in right now, I would not have even considered buying the meals of two total strangers not holding up a sign begging for help (because I do give money to people who do that, but that's another story...) Anyway, if I were not experiencing all that I am, I would have fed my family and their friends and called it a day. But, like I said, being where I am in my life right this very moment, I am becoming a better person and I like her. So again, whichever one of the three people who purchased this ticket for me, thank you. I think you are getting your money's worth, even if not the way you had hoped.
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
Green Palmolive
Do you ever have one of those moments where you are kind of caught off guard by a mental image of your past...and you don't want to entertain the image in your head by thinking about it too long but at the same time, you try to remember every detail?
I was standing at the kitchen sink, washing dishes, gazing out the window when a long, lost memory came into my mind. It was a personal glimpse back in time and my sister, Robin, was standing at her kitchen sink, washing dishes, and gazing out the window.
They say that our sense of smell is the sense most closely connected to our memory. I had purchased the green Palmolive dish soap because the store was out of the purple AND orange Palmolive. Apparently there was some kind of major run on purple and orange Palmolive that I was unaware of, so there I was with the green. The green Palmolive has not changed in 20 plus years. I am sure of this. Robin used the green Palmolive when I was a kid and I remember that smell...
My Palmolive memory took me back to being a teenager and visiting Robin and her family. Robin was (is) such an amazing wife and mother. She was a stay-at-home mom while her kids were young and got up at o'dark thirty every, single day to make biscuits from scratch for her husband because that made him happy. (Think on that for a second...biscuits from SCRATCH...EVERY morning...) He would go on to work as the rest of us slept and Robin would await the "second seating". When the kids would get up and come to breakfast, my niece, Kathren, would slather butter on her biscuit and then sprinkle brown sugar all over it. My nephew, Kyle, went "old-school" like his Auntie, and we would go for the butter and strawberry jam. Both toppings, also slathered. Mmmmmmm. Sitting here, being as detailed as I can so that you can see this kitchen table full of hungry, little people being doted on by a young, beautiful, blonde mom who merely enjoyed making others happy, I can almost smell the biscuits baking and my tummy is beginning to rumble.
The four of us would sit around the table and talk, laugh, and cut up. With her husband gone to work, we had all day to do anything or nothing, and both were equally enjoyable. I loved being there. I loved being with Kathren and Kyle and visiting other family "up the road"...but mostly I loved watching Robin...learning from her without even realizing it...taking mental notes of how to be funny but not hurtful, beautiful but not haughty, and fine-tuning a self-deprecating humor that has actually served me quite well in making others laugh. I wanted to be like Robin. I thought she was the prettiest, funniest, most popular and most loved person on the planet...because she was to me.
I found myself recalling all sorts of things as I allowed my mind to wander through the Palmolive memory but mostly I recalled just wanting to grow up and be like Robin. She had everything. Every time they would move, the houses got bigger and more elaborate. Her husband was a good provider and as the kids went on to school, Robin went to work, too. Her kids were healthy and happy. She had a ton of friends and people literally sought her out to be with her, to be entertained by her. Her wit was clever and quick. Nobody could top it. She had the ability to make people laugh despite their bad day or bad news. Robin's hugs melted away the worst fears, biggest problems, and that feeling you get when you realize you are an orphan for the first time...
It was not until years and years later that I found out all sorts of things that still make me sad about Robin and what her life was really like. Her reality was just like everyone else's...perfect on Sunday morning, sitting in church with all the other perfect people living perfect lives with no problems, no concerns, and no pain. Just a perfect life in a perfect house with a perfect husband and all smiles. Maybe you attended a church like that...maybe you still do...but what I came to find out through my own life is that Sunday people are not Monday's reality. Don't get me wrong, I put on the same show for years and years...until about almost three years ago when the reality I had created for myself crashed in around me...
That's when it happens. That's when you stand in your kitchen, washing the dishes with green Palmolive and gaze out the window as you contemplate the realities of your own life. The ones no one knows about unless you tell them, and you never do. The realities that you think are yours and yours alone because certainly, the rest of the world is happy, fulfilled, and you know, "perfect", as in "Sunday-morning-sitting-in-the-exact-same-church-pew-you-have-sat-in-for-the-past-several-years-making-small-talk-about-things-that-don't-really-matter-because-if-you-get-too-personal-the-dam-will-break-and-then-everyone-will-know-that-your-life-isn't-perfect"-perfect.
Maybe it was just Robin and I who tried very hard to have others believe we were as perfect on the inside as people thought we were on the outside. Maybe...but I doubt it.
I am not going to go into all sorts of detail about my reality or Robin's, but I will tell you that she remains the prettiest, funniest, most popular and most loved person on the planet...because she is to me...and when I find myself missing her, which is a lot, all I have to do is fill up the sink with sudsy, hot water, wash some dishes, and breathe deeply the scent of green Palmolive...and my reality gets better.
I was standing at the kitchen sink, washing dishes, gazing out the window when a long, lost memory came into my mind. It was a personal glimpse back in time and my sister, Robin, was standing at her kitchen sink, washing dishes, and gazing out the window.
They say that our sense of smell is the sense most closely connected to our memory. I had purchased the green Palmolive dish soap because the store was out of the purple AND orange Palmolive. Apparently there was some kind of major run on purple and orange Palmolive that I was unaware of, so there I was with the green. The green Palmolive has not changed in 20 plus years. I am sure of this. Robin used the green Palmolive when I was a kid and I remember that smell...
My Palmolive memory took me back to being a teenager and visiting Robin and her family. Robin was (is) such an amazing wife and mother. She was a stay-at-home mom while her kids were young and got up at o'dark thirty every, single day to make biscuits from scratch for her husband because that made him happy. (Think on that for a second...biscuits from SCRATCH...EVERY morning...) He would go on to work as the rest of us slept and Robin would await the "second seating". When the kids would get up and come to breakfast, my niece, Kathren, would slather butter on her biscuit and then sprinkle brown sugar all over it. My nephew, Kyle, went "old-school" like his Auntie, and we would go for the butter and strawberry jam. Both toppings, also slathered. Mmmmmmm. Sitting here, being as detailed as I can so that you can see this kitchen table full of hungry, little people being doted on by a young, beautiful, blonde mom who merely enjoyed making others happy, I can almost smell the biscuits baking and my tummy is beginning to rumble.
The four of us would sit around the table and talk, laugh, and cut up. With her husband gone to work, we had all day to do anything or nothing, and both were equally enjoyable. I loved being there. I loved being with Kathren and Kyle and visiting other family "up the road"...but mostly I loved watching Robin...learning from her without even realizing it...taking mental notes of how to be funny but not hurtful, beautiful but not haughty, and fine-tuning a self-deprecating humor that has actually served me quite well in making others laugh. I wanted to be like Robin. I thought she was the prettiest, funniest, most popular and most loved person on the planet...because she was to me.
I found myself recalling all sorts of things as I allowed my mind to wander through the Palmolive memory but mostly I recalled just wanting to grow up and be like Robin. She had everything. Every time they would move, the houses got bigger and more elaborate. Her husband was a good provider and as the kids went on to school, Robin went to work, too. Her kids were healthy and happy. She had a ton of friends and people literally sought her out to be with her, to be entertained by her. Her wit was clever and quick. Nobody could top it. She had the ability to make people laugh despite their bad day or bad news. Robin's hugs melted away the worst fears, biggest problems, and that feeling you get when you realize you are an orphan for the first time...
It was not until years and years later that I found out all sorts of things that still make me sad about Robin and what her life was really like. Her reality was just like everyone else's...perfect on Sunday morning, sitting in church with all the other perfect people living perfect lives with no problems, no concerns, and no pain. Just a perfect life in a perfect house with a perfect husband and all smiles. Maybe you attended a church like that...maybe you still do...but what I came to find out through my own life is that Sunday people are not Monday's reality. Don't get me wrong, I put on the same show for years and years...until about almost three years ago when the reality I had created for myself crashed in around me...
That's when it happens. That's when you stand in your kitchen, washing the dishes with green Palmolive and gaze out the window as you contemplate the realities of your own life. The ones no one knows about unless you tell them, and you never do. The realities that you think are yours and yours alone because certainly, the rest of the world is happy, fulfilled, and you know, "perfect", as in "Sunday-morning-sitting-in-the-exact-same-church-pew-you-have-sat-in-for-the-past-several-years-making-small-talk-about-things-that-don't-really-matter-because-if-you-get-too-personal-the-dam-will-break-and-then-everyone-will-know-that-your-life-isn't-perfect"-perfect.
Maybe it was just Robin and I who tried very hard to have others believe we were as perfect on the inside as people thought we were on the outside. Maybe...but I doubt it.
I am not going to go into all sorts of detail about my reality or Robin's, but I will tell you that she remains the prettiest, funniest, most popular and most loved person on the planet...because she is to me...and when I find myself missing her, which is a lot, all I have to do is fill up the sink with sudsy, hot water, wash some dishes, and breathe deeply the scent of green Palmolive...and my reality gets better.
Sunday, November 8, 2009
Count It All Joy
Our State Finals for Marching Band were this weekend and the event was huge, to say the least. The venue was Papa John's Stadium in Louisville, KY and it is an honor to make it to finals. This year being the first year for Big Daddy and I to have BOTH children in the same scholastic activity, is monumental. We have spent the past several years running between band events to track events to concerts and back to dance competitions. Phew! Having them both in the same thing at the same time with the same schedule? Fabulous for them AND us. There were many events, especially near the holiday breaks, where one of us would have to attend alone while missing Child A's performance so that we could see Child B's...then we would switch off and miss the other child's performance next go 'round as we rotated. Sure, having one parent in attendance is nice and all, but as a kid, you want them both there, every performance, every time. Now, we are able to provide that for our kids and that is an amazing comfort to all of us. In other words, a blessing.
We arrived at the stadium around 2pm. We played at 3:oo, so we were able to watch a few bands before us and get in the spirit of things. Our band is the largest on the field in the state with over 200 students. It is a wonderful spectacle to watch, especially knowing how much effort, hard work, and dedication that is poured into this event beginning in July. July is a long way from November, let me tell you. But, here we were and the weather was gorgeous. If I had written a request to God for the perfect weather, it would have been the exact same as what we had yesterday. Thanks, God. Another blessing.
The semi-finals ended and we placed high enough to return for finals. Actually, we came in first place according to the internet boards. Our group of friends included Babs, Ms. B, Lucy, and a host of other friends and husbands to keep Big Daddy entertained while our kids weren't on the field. LOL We had an awesome day and then went to The Spaghetti Factory. Yummmmmm. I had the spinach & artichoke dip with shrimp and bruschetta while Big Daddy dined on crab ravioli and something else I can't recall. Regardless of what Big Daddy ate, he gave me his ice cream and that's all that really mattered. Yet another blessing for I believe ice cream is heaven sent.
While sharing this meal with our friends and thoroughly enjoying each other's company, I took a moment to give thanks to the One who made the moment possible. I try to do that more now...you know, give thanks. I don't want to be ungrateful or uncaring and I do want God to know that I appreciate His provision, because I truly do. On June 25th of this year, I was not as inclined to make a point of giving thanks. On June 25th, I didn't have cancer, however, on June 26th, I did and the blessings have been piling one on top of the other. Wow. Thank You, God, for the blessing of cancer.
We all arrived back at the stadium, found our seats and enjoyed the final shows from each band. May I just say that I am, was, and shall continue to forever be, exceptionally proud of every child participating from every school. These kids work h-a-r-d...ALL of them and they are all champions because if marching band was easy, they would call it football. (I read that somewhere...I am not that clever.) The line was not long at Ehrler's Ice Cream, so Babs' hubby bought me an ice cream cone. Now, I am sure you are thinking to yourself... "but she just had ice cream at The Spaghetti Factory five minutes ago..." First of all, it was not five minutes ago and secondly, they only give you enough to make you want more. So, with ice cream cone in hand, we watched some incredibly talented kids, and enjoyed what we were part of and the memories we were making. You know, memories are the blessings that keep us moving forward to make new ones...
We won! We came in 1st place which meant Number Sweet Sixteen for State wins. We, the parents, families, and friends, waited for the Director to release the students. The kids remain in formation until after all other competitors have exited the field. Next thing you know we are seconds away from actually touching the Grand Champions, the Governor's Cup recipients, the biggest, baddest, bestest band in all the land right there on the Louisville Cardinals Stadium turf! And then, the very parents, families, and friends stormed these kids. There were hugs, kisses, camera clicks, and tears. Kids showing their emotions for what had just happened...the honor just bestowed upon them...the memories of a lifetime being made...and we were there. I cannot recall a time in the past twenty years when Big Daddy was more cognizant of picture taking. He had our camera held up for "aerial views"...he had us posing...he had us hugging...he made sure costumes were captured and no heads were cut off...Big Daddy was all about taking a ton of pictures. Babs and her hubby hung out in the stands so that, as a family, we could share the moment. What I wanted her to know was that they are our family and we wanted them on the field with us to share in our moment...a moment for all of us, this family...our family. Later, I looked at the pictures and realized Big Daddy had even taken a picture of Babs in the stands watching us...followed by a picture of me looking into the stands for Babs...the epitome of friendship and the blessings that accompany it.
We listened to the "Victory Speech" from the Director to the kids, parents, volunteers, and everyone else who made the show possible and successful. He gave the final scores and then released the kids to go get pizza. It was a tremendous thing for both of our children to experience and an event they will never forget...and will hopefully repeat the next three years at which point, they will both have graduated from high school and will have a treasure trove of "wins" under their belts. Will our school win the next three years in a row? To never have to experience defeat or coming in any place less than first? As a parent, wouldn't THAT be a blessing to not have to see your child work so, very, very hard for something and still not attain the win?
Sure. We want our children to succeed at everything they attempt (except the stupid stuff like making the "Underwater Basket Weaving Team" or "Let's See How Many Years You Can Fail Every Class Before They Simply Kick You Out Team"). As parents and adults, we have certainly encountered defeat and disappointment. So much so that we stopped keeping "official" score at tee-ball games so that everyone wins. As managers, we offer the "Positive Sandwich" where we slide some positive points on top, throw in the "you need to work on this" meat, and then top it off with something else positive....you know, so you don't hurt anyone's feelings, find yourself at the receiving end of a libel subpoena, or make anyone upset for asking them to do their job. As politicians, we may have issues but at least we did not "do what he did" (John Edwards, Marion Berry, Bill Clinton). Something, somewhere happened and we stopped holding each other accountable...learning the lessons that accompany defeat, despair, and disappointment. Who would ever think those things to be a blessing?
Who? Well, someone who has experienced them and become a better person for the lessons learned...like me. God has generously used disappointment, rejection, failure, and a not-so-clean-anymore bill of health to teach me humility, compassion, and patience. These are the blessings of not winning...to walk away a better person with a sense of humility that was not there perhaps? That is a blessing. To recognize God's hand in your life despite living in this fallen world... That is a blessing. To count it all joy when all you feel led to do is lash out, fret, worry, cry, and feel forgotten... That is a blessing.
"Consider it all joy, my brethren, when you encounter various trials, knowing that the proving of your faith produces endurance."
James 1:2-3
So, if our kids end up winning the next three years and never have to suffer defeat, then that is great, however, if they do not win, then God can be glorified throughout their heartache if they seek Him. (Romans 8:28) So, how did we get from a gloriously happy day with the kids winning the State Championship to here? It's a blessing...let me explain...
Lucy called me on her way home from work Friday afternoon. She had a horrendous day and her hubby was out of town for a funeral, leaving her to deal with crisis after crisis in their business. Here's the conversation:
Lucy: I just had to call you and tell you that you are doing good things with your blog even if you don't realize it or believe it. I had a horrible day and was about to close up shop and head home when I received your text about having finally posted. You said that even with stupid people, there are far more blessings with family and friends and life in general and you reminded me why I fought cancer instead of giving up. I am blessed with a family that loves me unconditionally and I have incredible friends who would do absolutely anything for me to be healthy and happy. For a moment, I had lost sight of what's important and why I bother with mammograms every six months and why I suffered through chemo. I almost let myself forget why we started our own business after they fired me for having cancer. (she is crying on the phone now, by the way) You reminded me that I fought cancer and won so that I could experience life with those to whom I matter most. I had almost forgotten and almost found myself in a place where work and the daily grind was so important that it could even effect my spirit of thankfulness. Then I read your blog, cried, gave thanks and headed home. Please don't ever think that you are not making a difference, because you definitely are...even if it is only to me. I don't ever want to forget why I fought so hard and how blessed I am that I did. (sniff)
Me: Sniff. Sniff. Ok. Sniff. Sniff. You're welcome. Sniff. Sniff.
There you have it.
Win or lose, count it all joy.
We arrived at the stadium around 2pm. We played at 3:oo, so we were able to watch a few bands before us and get in the spirit of things. Our band is the largest on the field in the state with over 200 students. It is a wonderful spectacle to watch, especially knowing how much effort, hard work, and dedication that is poured into this event beginning in July. July is a long way from November, let me tell you. But, here we were and the weather was gorgeous. If I had written a request to God for the perfect weather, it would have been the exact same as what we had yesterday. Thanks, God. Another blessing.
The semi-finals ended and we placed high enough to return for finals. Actually, we came in first place according to the internet boards. Our group of friends included Babs, Ms. B, Lucy, and a host of other friends and husbands to keep Big Daddy entertained while our kids weren't on the field. LOL We had an awesome day and then went to The Spaghetti Factory. Yummmmmm. I had the spinach & artichoke dip with shrimp and bruschetta while Big Daddy dined on crab ravioli and something else I can't recall. Regardless of what Big Daddy ate, he gave me his ice cream and that's all that really mattered. Yet another blessing for I believe ice cream is heaven sent.
While sharing this meal with our friends and thoroughly enjoying each other's company, I took a moment to give thanks to the One who made the moment possible. I try to do that more now...you know, give thanks. I don't want to be ungrateful or uncaring and I do want God to know that I appreciate His provision, because I truly do. On June 25th of this year, I was not as inclined to make a point of giving thanks. On June 25th, I didn't have cancer, however, on June 26th, I did and the blessings have been piling one on top of the other. Wow. Thank You, God, for the blessing of cancer.
We all arrived back at the stadium, found our seats and enjoyed the final shows from each band. May I just say that I am, was, and shall continue to forever be, exceptionally proud of every child participating from every school. These kids work h-a-r-d...ALL of them and they are all champions because if marching band was easy, they would call it football. (I read that somewhere...I am not that clever.) The line was not long at Ehrler's Ice Cream, so Babs' hubby bought me an ice cream cone. Now, I am sure you are thinking to yourself... "but she just had ice cream at The Spaghetti Factory five minutes ago..." First of all, it was not five minutes ago and secondly, they only give you enough to make you want more. So, with ice cream cone in hand, we watched some incredibly talented kids, and enjoyed what we were part of and the memories we were making. You know, memories are the blessings that keep us moving forward to make new ones...
We won! We came in 1st place which meant Number Sweet Sixteen for State wins. We, the parents, families, and friends, waited for the Director to release the students. The kids remain in formation until after all other competitors have exited the field. Next thing you know we are seconds away from actually touching the Grand Champions, the Governor's Cup recipients, the biggest, baddest, bestest band in all the land right there on the Louisville Cardinals Stadium turf! And then, the very parents, families, and friends stormed these kids. There were hugs, kisses, camera clicks, and tears. Kids showing their emotions for what had just happened...the honor just bestowed upon them...the memories of a lifetime being made...and we were there. I cannot recall a time in the past twenty years when Big Daddy was more cognizant of picture taking. He had our camera held up for "aerial views"...he had us posing...he had us hugging...he made sure costumes were captured and no heads were cut off...Big Daddy was all about taking a ton of pictures. Babs and her hubby hung out in the stands so that, as a family, we could share the moment. What I wanted her to know was that they are our family and we wanted them on the field with us to share in our moment...a moment for all of us, this family...our family. Later, I looked at the pictures and realized Big Daddy had even taken a picture of Babs in the stands watching us...followed by a picture of me looking into the stands for Babs...the epitome of friendship and the blessings that accompany it.
We listened to the "Victory Speech" from the Director to the kids, parents, volunteers, and everyone else who made the show possible and successful. He gave the final scores and then released the kids to go get pizza. It was a tremendous thing for both of our children to experience and an event they will never forget...and will hopefully repeat the next three years at which point, they will both have graduated from high school and will have a treasure trove of "wins" under their belts. Will our school win the next three years in a row? To never have to experience defeat or coming in any place less than first? As a parent, wouldn't THAT be a blessing to not have to see your child work so, very, very hard for something and still not attain the win?
Sure. We want our children to succeed at everything they attempt (except the stupid stuff like making the "Underwater Basket Weaving Team" or "Let's See How Many Years You Can Fail Every Class Before They Simply Kick You Out Team"). As parents and adults, we have certainly encountered defeat and disappointment. So much so that we stopped keeping "official" score at tee-ball games so that everyone wins. As managers, we offer the "Positive Sandwich" where we slide some positive points on top, throw in the "you need to work on this" meat, and then top it off with something else positive....you know, so you don't hurt anyone's feelings, find yourself at the receiving end of a libel subpoena, or make anyone upset for asking them to do their job. As politicians, we may have issues but at least we did not "do what he did" (John Edwards, Marion Berry, Bill Clinton). Something, somewhere happened and we stopped holding each other accountable...learning the lessons that accompany defeat, despair, and disappointment. Who would ever think those things to be a blessing?
Who? Well, someone who has experienced them and become a better person for the lessons learned...like me. God has generously used disappointment, rejection, failure, and a not-so-clean-anymore bill of health to teach me humility, compassion, and patience. These are the blessings of not winning...to walk away a better person with a sense of humility that was not there perhaps? That is a blessing. To recognize God's hand in your life despite living in this fallen world... That is a blessing. To count it all joy when all you feel led to do is lash out, fret, worry, cry, and feel forgotten... That is a blessing.
"Consider it all joy, my brethren, when you encounter various trials, knowing that the proving of your faith produces endurance."
James 1:2-3
So, if our kids end up winning the next three years and never have to suffer defeat, then that is great, however, if they do not win, then God can be glorified throughout their heartache if they seek Him. (Romans 8:28) So, how did we get from a gloriously happy day with the kids winning the State Championship to here? It's a blessing...let me explain...
Lucy called me on her way home from work Friday afternoon. She had a horrendous day and her hubby was out of town for a funeral, leaving her to deal with crisis after crisis in their business. Here's the conversation:
Lucy: I just had to call you and tell you that you are doing good things with your blog even if you don't realize it or believe it. I had a horrible day and was about to close up shop and head home when I received your text about having finally posted. You said that even with stupid people, there are far more blessings with family and friends and life in general and you reminded me why I fought cancer instead of giving up. I am blessed with a family that loves me unconditionally and I have incredible friends who would do absolutely anything for me to be healthy and happy. For a moment, I had lost sight of what's important and why I bother with mammograms every six months and why I suffered through chemo. I almost let myself forget why we started our own business after they fired me for having cancer. (she is crying on the phone now, by the way) You reminded me that I fought cancer and won so that I could experience life with those to whom I matter most. I had almost forgotten and almost found myself in a place where work and the daily grind was so important that it could even effect my spirit of thankfulness. Then I read your blog, cried, gave thanks and headed home. Please don't ever think that you are not making a difference, because you definitely are...even if it is only to me. I don't ever want to forget why I fought so hard and how blessed I am that I did. (sniff)
Me: Sniff. Sniff. Ok. Sniff. Sniff. You're welcome. Sniff. Sniff.
There you have it.
Win or lose, count it all joy.
Friday, November 6, 2009
Seriously?!?!?!?
This could take a while. Grab your big cup and fill 'er up, Melissa!
So, Chemo #3, outta here. See ya. Movin' on.
Went to WalMart this morning after taking the kids to school. Thought I would sneak in and sneak out before all the weirdos, yahoos, and stupid people showed up. Oops. Too late.
Actually, I was doing pur-ritty darn well until I forgot to buy baking potatoes to go with the steak we are having for tonight's dinner. So, I loaded up the Suburban with my $250.00 worth of groceries and went right back inside. There she was. Standing in the produce section in front of the baking potatoes. She caught me totally unaware because she looked so, sooooooo... what's the word? Not stupid.
*Side-Note-Bonus: Normally, I love the produce section. It is the first place Big Daddy told me he loved me.*
Allow me to set the stage for you. I know how you all love it when I dress up for trips to Wallyworld, so here ya go...
Nike Running Shoes
Blackish-grey Under Armour Running Pants.
2009 Race for the Cure Tee-shirt...in which it is very easy to tell the affiliation because it says in big, bold type:
2009 RACE FOR THE CURE with a bazillion little, pink ribbons all over it, you know, signifying
BUUUUUUHHHHH-REAST CAAAAAAAAAAANCER.
You know? Komen? Like, Susan G. Komen? Anybody? Hello???
*Ugh* Deep Breath.
So, obvious tee-shirt, paired with, now wait for it...wait - for - it ...a KOMEN PINK HEADWRAP saddled under a BREAST CANCER BASEBALL CAP with yes, you guessed it, A BEDAZZLED PINK RIBBON ON IT!!!
None of that ensemble was a clue. None of it. All this woman in front of the baking potatoes sees is my hospital mask. Granted, it wasn't pink and it didn't have a pink on it, but c'mon!!! So, she stands kind of to the side so we don't breathe the same air when I catch her eye and she says...
"You wearin' that mask cuz you got that swine flu?"
Enter: The Old Me.
"No ma'am; I'm wearing this mask because I have cancer and the swine flu could kill me which would really throw a monkey wrench into collecting my life insurance money because if I die from the swine flu and not cancer, my family gets nothing."
"Oh!"
"That is fabulous...that she smokes pot, not that she has cancer. May I nudge in here to get some potatoes?"
Insincere smile.
*very sincere eyeroll*
Maybe it was the WalMart manager who ran in front of me so that he would not have to bother holding the door for a woman, or a woman who obviously has cancer, or a person in general because he is SOOOOO much more important than the rest of us peons.
Maybe it was the person working in the dairy department...oh wait. My bad. She didn't work in the dairy department, which is why she could not help me find where they are hiding the big bags of Colby-Jack shreds. This lady was "juz heppin' out".
Maybe it was the cashier who, about three years ago, told the cashier who was ringing me up to make sure and add the bottled water I had on the bottom of my shopping cart before I could tell the cashier myself so I accused her of accusing me of stealing...I remember stupid stuff...where was I? Oh. Maybe it was that cashier who told me Register 15 was open with no line, no waiting...Yes. Allow me to walk over to Register 15 with no line and no waiting BECAUSE IT IS THE TOBACCO AISLE!! LOOK AT MY SHIRT!!!!!!!!!!!!AAAAAAAARRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Maybe it was the way I think someone is looking at me, even though they may not even see me at all. For example, wouldn't you think that someone born with a physical disability would go OUT of their way NOT to stare at someone with a disability? There is this young woman who is physically impaired. Her legs and arms both show signs of disability, although I don't know what, because that would require me to s-t-a-r-e in order to figure it out. Anyway, I always have on my mask because I simply cannot get sick (see above reference to insurance monies) and this chick literally stares me down. I am thinking one more time and we may very well have another visit from "The Old Me".
So. Maybe it was one of those people or maybe it wasn't. I wuuuuuuz in a great mood. I wuuuuuuz feeling good and wuuuuuuuz thinking I could go until about 1pm without a nap, even! Not sure who did what or why I even cared, but for this instance, this moment in the produce section, I was pissed. How can people be so stupid? So insensitive? So nosey? God, was I ever like that? I hope not. As a tribute to my upbringing, I know I have never intentionally insinuated myself into someone else's physical crisis. Emotional, mental, spiritual, well, yeah, but never physical. That's just rude.
Lucy had told me the day she came over for the first time that there would come a day when I could no longer hide having cancer, or at the very least, not bother trying to hide it. Meaning, the headwraps and the little pink ribbons. Now Lucy went from pink being her favorite color to not liking it much at all. She was given all sorts of pink ribbon gifts and keepsakes and she kept very few of them. She hated them. She hated what they represented to her and to her family. She hated cancer for invading her life and took it so personally that anything associated with breast cancer was taboo. Suited her family fine...they never cared for pink like she did, anyway. In fact, Lucy used to wear a breast cancer pink baseball cap to the high school to pick her daughter up from band every day while she went through chemo and such. One day, running late as she often does, Lucy was not ready to get to where she was supposed to be, donned on that ole pink cap and headed for the door. The look on her daughter's face spoke volumes.
"No." her daughter said. "Anything but that no matter how terrible you look...please, Mom."
Enough said.
Enough not said.
Lucy took off the hat and threw it in the garbage. She was never really sure why she kept it to begin with but she knew why she was throwing it away...
I love pink. It was my Mom's favorite color (Daddy's was yellow). I hold onto every, little, minute thing or shred or idea from them...everything, as if I have to convince myself they were ever real...even holding onto the color pink. I used to automatically equate pink with my Mom...now I just "think pink", I guess. And so it is with cancer. You think about it, try to understand it, and gain knowledge about how to beat it. The battle is real and it goes far beyond a little pink ribbon and memories of a young girl with her Mom and Dad. You figure out how you have to handle cancer, ribbons, and pink for yourself and move forward. I love pink and I love seeing little pink ribbons because it means there is more awareness today than ever before and hopefully, we are closing in on a cure for those who follow behind me.
Anyway, I gathered up our baking potatoes, left the produce section and checked out for the second time. I was stewing, for sure...not because I was really mad but because I have obviously crossed over into the "Now Everyone Knows" stage of cancer...ironically, I have also crossed over into "I do not care enough to bother looking better than this right 'chere" stage.
So, I left, again, then went to Kroger because I have the memory of an artichoke and forgot two things but absolutely refused to go back into WalMart. Guess what? At Kroger...they know I have cancer, too.
Whatever.
Came home and tried to tippy-toe around because Big Daddy was probably asleep. Oh wait!! No, he was not asleep! He was wide awake and on the phone...
"Yes, I need to reserve a room for tomorrow. My wife has cancer and our kids are in a competition and I need a room where she can rest......... You do? Great. I'll take it. Also, would you mind to ask your staff to be as vigilant as possible with the cleaning and sanitizing? My wife's immune system is incredibly taxed because of the chemo and I just can't have her get sick.............. You will? Thank you so much. I really appreciate your time and trouble."
And there it is. Great mood - bad mood - grouchy mood - thankful mood - infringed upon mood - God, I am so in love with him mood...
Some days I wear pink. Some days I don't but not because I hate it...sometimes I just don't. Sometimes you will see me out and about and I will look like you need to take me home...but I am fine. I just look like that when I do not care and sometimes, I. Just. Do. Not. Care. Other times, you may see me out and tell me wonderful things like I heard last night... "You look amazing!" "You look like you feel great!" "You look so beautiful and I love your hair!" Or my absolute favorite from my As-Of-Last-Night-New-BFF, "You look like a model! Like you just stepped off a page in a magazine!" Those days, you will see Big Daddy, too, or at least the kids, because it takes a great deal of effort to not look like you have cancer when you do. I look halfway decent for "other" people, mainly my family, because looking like a cancer patient creates a fear in those who do not know I am going to win. The effort to look "okay" is worth the strength it takes.
You know, it takes a lot more effort to not be joyous for this season of my life where blessings flow like water from a stream, stupid people make me not only feel smarter but also keep my jagged sarcasm fine-tuned, and pink is the color of the day...and it was my Mom's favorite.
So, Chemo #3, outta here. See ya. Movin' on.
Went to WalMart this morning after taking the kids to school. Thought I would sneak in and sneak out before all the weirdos, yahoos, and stupid people showed up. Oops. Too late.
Actually, I was doing pur-ritty darn well until I forgot to buy baking potatoes to go with the steak we are having for tonight's dinner. So, I loaded up the Suburban with my $250.00 worth of groceries and went right back inside. There she was. Standing in the produce section in front of the baking potatoes. She caught me totally unaware because she looked so, sooooooo... what's the word? Not stupid.
*Side-Note-Bonus: Normally, I love the produce section. It is the first place Big Daddy told me he loved me.*
Allow me to set the stage for you. I know how you all love it when I dress up for trips to Wallyworld, so here ya go...
Nike Running Shoes
Blackish-grey Under Armour Running Pants.
2009 Race for the Cure Tee-shirt...in which it is very easy to tell the affiliation because it says in big, bold type:
2009 RACE FOR THE CURE with a bazillion little, pink ribbons all over it, you know, signifying
BUUUUUUHHHHH-REAST CAAAAAAAAAAANCER.
You know? Komen? Like, Susan G. Komen? Anybody? Hello???
*Ugh* Deep Breath.
So, obvious tee-shirt, paired with, now wait for it...wait - for - it ...a KOMEN PINK HEADWRAP saddled under a BREAST CANCER BASEBALL CAP with yes, you guessed it, A BEDAZZLED PINK RIBBON ON IT!!!
None of that ensemble was a clue. None of it. All this woman in front of the baking potatoes sees is my hospital mask. Granted, it wasn't pink and it didn't have a pink on it, but c'mon!!! So, she stands kind of to the side so we don't breathe the same air when I catch her eye and she says...
"You wearin' that mask cuz you got that swine flu?"
Enter: The Old Me.
"No ma'am; I'm wearing this mask because I have cancer and the swine flu could kill me which would really throw a monkey wrench into collecting my life insurance money because if I die from the swine flu and not cancer, my family gets nothing."
"Oh!"
"That is fabulous...that she smokes pot, not that she has cancer. May I nudge in here to get some potatoes?"
Insincere smile.
*very sincere eyeroll*
Maybe it was the WalMart manager who ran in front of me so that he would not have to bother holding the door for a woman, or a woman who obviously has cancer, or a person in general because he is SOOOOO much more important than the rest of us peons.
Maybe it was the person working in the dairy department...oh wait. My bad. She didn't work in the dairy department, which is why she could not help me find where they are hiding the big bags of Colby-Jack shreds. This lady was "juz heppin' out".
Maybe it was the cashier who, about three years ago, told the cashier who was ringing me up to make sure and add the bottled water I had on the bottom of my shopping cart before I could tell the cashier myself so I accused her of accusing me of stealing...I remember stupid stuff...where was I? Oh. Maybe it was that cashier who told me Register 15 was open with no line, no waiting...Yes. Allow me to walk over to Register 15 with no line and no waiting BECAUSE IT IS THE TOBACCO AISLE!! LOOK AT MY SHIRT!!!!!!!!!!!!AAAAAAAARRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Maybe it was the way I think someone is looking at me, even though they may not even see me at all. For example, wouldn't you think that someone born with a physical disability would go OUT of their way NOT to stare at someone with a disability? There is this young woman who is physically impaired. Her legs and arms both show signs of disability, although I don't know what, because that would require me to s-t-a-r-e in order to figure it out. Anyway, I always have on my mask because I simply cannot get sick (see above reference to insurance monies) and this chick literally stares me down. I am thinking one more time and we may very well have another visit from "The Old Me".
So. Maybe it was one of those people or maybe it wasn't. I wuuuuuuz in a great mood. I wuuuuuuz feeling good and wuuuuuuuz thinking I could go until about 1pm without a nap, even! Not sure who did what or why I even cared, but for this instance, this moment in the produce section, I was pissed. How can people be so stupid? So insensitive? So nosey? God, was I ever like that? I hope not. As a tribute to my upbringing, I know I have never intentionally insinuated myself into someone else's physical crisis. Emotional, mental, spiritual, well, yeah, but never physical. That's just rude.
Lucy had told me the day she came over for the first time that there would come a day when I could no longer hide having cancer, or at the very least, not bother trying to hide it. Meaning, the headwraps and the little pink ribbons. Now Lucy went from pink being her favorite color to not liking it much at all. She was given all sorts of pink ribbon gifts and keepsakes and she kept very few of them. She hated them. She hated what they represented to her and to her family. She hated cancer for invading her life and took it so personally that anything associated with breast cancer was taboo. Suited her family fine...they never cared for pink like she did, anyway. In fact, Lucy used to wear a breast cancer pink baseball cap to the high school to pick her daughter up from band every day while she went through chemo and such. One day, running late as she often does, Lucy was not ready to get to where she was supposed to be, donned on that ole pink cap and headed for the door. The look on her daughter's face spoke volumes.
"No." her daughter said. "Anything but that no matter how terrible you look...please, Mom."
Enough said.
Enough not said.
Lucy took off the hat and threw it in the garbage. She was never really sure why she kept it to begin with but she knew why she was throwing it away...
I love pink. It was my Mom's favorite color (Daddy's was yellow). I hold onto every, little, minute thing or shred or idea from them...everything, as if I have to convince myself they were ever real...even holding onto the color pink. I used to automatically equate pink with my Mom...now I just "think pink", I guess. And so it is with cancer. You think about it, try to understand it, and gain knowledge about how to beat it. The battle is real and it goes far beyond a little pink ribbon and memories of a young girl with her Mom and Dad. You figure out how you have to handle cancer, ribbons, and pink for yourself and move forward. I love pink and I love seeing little pink ribbons because it means there is more awareness today than ever before and hopefully, we are closing in on a cure for those who follow behind me.
Anyway, I gathered up our baking potatoes, left the produce section and checked out for the second time. I was stewing, for sure...not because I was really mad but because I have obviously crossed over into the "Now Everyone Knows" stage of cancer...ironically, I have also crossed over into "I do not care enough to bother looking better than this right 'chere" stage.
So, I left, again, then went to Kroger because I have the memory of an artichoke and forgot two things but absolutely refused to go back into WalMart. Guess what? At Kroger...they know I have cancer, too.
Whatever.
Came home and tried to tippy-toe around because Big Daddy was probably asleep. Oh wait!! No, he was not asleep! He was wide awake and on the phone...
"Yes, I need to reserve a room for tomorrow. My wife has cancer and our kids are in a competition and I need a room where she can rest......... You do? Great. I'll take it. Also, would you mind to ask your staff to be as vigilant as possible with the cleaning and sanitizing? My wife's immune system is incredibly taxed because of the chemo and I just can't have her get sick.............. You will? Thank you so much. I really appreciate your time and trouble."
And there it is. Great mood - bad mood - grouchy mood - thankful mood - infringed upon mood - God, I am so in love with him mood...
Some days I wear pink. Some days I don't but not because I hate it...sometimes I just don't. Sometimes you will see me out and about and I will look like you need to take me home...but I am fine. I just look like that when I do not care and sometimes, I. Just. Do. Not. Care. Other times, you may see me out and tell me wonderful things like I heard last night... "You look amazing!" "You look like you feel great!" "You look so beautiful and I love your hair!" Or my absolute favorite from my As-Of-Last-Night-New-BFF, "You look like a model! Like you just stepped off a page in a magazine!" Those days, you will see Big Daddy, too, or at least the kids, because it takes a great deal of effort to not look like you have cancer when you do. I look halfway decent for "other" people, mainly my family, because looking like a cancer patient creates a fear in those who do not know I am going to win. The effort to look "okay" is worth the strength it takes.
You know, it takes a lot more effort to not be joyous for this season of my life where blessings flow like water from a stream, stupid people make me not only feel smarter but also keep my jagged sarcasm fine-tuned, and pink is the color of the day...and it was my Mom's favorite.
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
Precious Sight
You know how you get older and you notice things in a "new"' way? For instance, an elderly couple walking through a parking lot, holding hands. The gray-haired gentleman holding the door for his petite bride. You imagine them having seen the best and worst of times throughout an incredible number of years, say maybe 50? You can tell just by looking at them that the love they have surpasses what you thought love was and what they have is somehow more...
That's where I was today.
I was being guided by my husband because I am too frail to guide myself. He holds onto me as I walk, steadying me, guiding me, making sure I am safe. He upholds me as I struggle to clear the top of a sidewalk or to get into our vehicle. He holds my arm securely as I enter and sit and he latches my seatbelt around my waist for me.
This is not a couple of fifty years. This is us. The very compassion, warmth, and tenderness known throughout a love affair of fifty years is certainly recognized in this one, as well. I see it daily. I feel it endlessly. I know there have been times when I wondered if I had damaged it or ruined or wrecked it through my selfish agenda, and here we are... He loves me. I love him.
Maybe it is just me who, throughout the years of marriage, has put myself first, designed elaborate plans to demonstrate how unselfish I am, and who has reassured herself that there will always be "time". I had my plans, that's for sure... SuperWife; WonderMom; CareerGal; BestestFriend. I did it all. And here I am today and all that matters is that my husband loves me enough to take me for a ride so that I can get out of the house post-chemo.
I don't believe I have allowed my standards to fall...instead, I believe I have been given the rare opportunity to see them grow into what I should have been striving for all along... just love.
So, when you see the sweet little old couple walking into the pharmacy and the gray-headed husband is gently guiding his wife's arm, know that in an instant, that could be you and in another instant, you could be that blessed.
He held her and guided her and loved her forever
She remembered everything about him down to the smallest white scar on his right knuckle
He lifted her spririts
She made him laugh
He protected her from all things mean and vile and horrendous
She loved him as if there were no tomorrow...just in case there wasn't
He doted on her and treated her like a queen, or better yet, a princess, for all girls want to be a princess
She prayed for special ways to demonstrate what her heart was feeling
He placed his life in her heart and her hands
She treasured all things and stood guard
And they loved without end
That's where I was today.
I was being guided by my husband because I am too frail to guide myself. He holds onto me as I walk, steadying me, guiding me, making sure I am safe. He upholds me as I struggle to clear the top of a sidewalk or to get into our vehicle. He holds my arm securely as I enter and sit and he latches my seatbelt around my waist for me.
This is not a couple of fifty years. This is us. The very compassion, warmth, and tenderness known throughout a love affair of fifty years is certainly recognized in this one, as well. I see it daily. I feel it endlessly. I know there have been times when I wondered if I had damaged it or ruined or wrecked it through my selfish agenda, and here we are... He loves me. I love him.
Maybe it is just me who, throughout the years of marriage, has put myself first, designed elaborate plans to demonstrate how unselfish I am, and who has reassured herself that there will always be "time". I had my plans, that's for sure... SuperWife; WonderMom; CareerGal; BestestFriend. I did it all. And here I am today and all that matters is that my husband loves me enough to take me for a ride so that I can get out of the house post-chemo.
I don't believe I have allowed my standards to fall...instead, I believe I have been given the rare opportunity to see them grow into what I should have been striving for all along... just love.
So, when you see the sweet little old couple walking into the pharmacy and the gray-headed husband is gently guiding his wife's arm, know that in an instant, that could be you and in another instant, you could be that blessed.
He held her and guided her and loved her forever
She remembered everything about him down to the smallest white scar on his right knuckle
He lifted her spririts
She made him laugh
He protected her from all things mean and vile and horrendous
She loved him as if there were no tomorrow...just in case there wasn't
He doted on her and treated her like a queen, or better yet, a princess, for all girls want to be a princess
She prayed for special ways to demonstrate what her heart was feeling
He placed his life in her heart and her hands
She treasured all things and stood guard
And they loved without end
Sunday, November 1, 2009
Waiting...
It is going on 6pm, Sunday evening. Still nothing as far as nausea and vomiting, which is awesome. I don't know if it is the new medicine regimen or whether it just hasn't "hit" yet, but I am still okay.
I tried to stay quiet and still today...laying in bed while Precious Son flipped between Nascar, the Broncos game, and some marathon with a bunch of terribly skinny people. Laying in bed does nothing for me when not tired...except upset me. I feel so useless and stuck in there. Today is a gorgeous autumn day...with thousands of pictures waiting to be taken, and I am stuck inside because we just have to wait...
Wait to see if I will get sick...
Wait to see if I won't...
Wait to see if some new side effects erupt...
Wait to see if the new medicine regimen works...
Waiting...the last thing an impatient person does well.
I did get to go to the QuarterFinals for marching band yesterday, though. It was hit and miss with the weather and the rain, but the rain stopped and I bundled up. We only stayed long enough for two bands, but that was enough because one of them had our kids in it. :o) They did a great job and I find myself, yet again, amazed at the dedication of these young people. I just do not recall being that motivated at 14-17 years old...to do what these kids do. Maybe I was motivated to get into a little trouble, but certainly not do anything with purpose. Basically, I think I just tried to get away with stuff.
Ms. B brought over some cheesy potato soup, sandwiches, and dutch apple pie this evening. Yummmm. What lifesavers our friends are. We ate it up like wolverines. Seems an impossible task before me to ever be able to repay everyone for their kindness and generosity...but it remains on my mind a great deal. How could we ever even put into words what our friends mean to us much less repay them? Impossible, yes, but I will try. These friends have literally sustained us...us, meaning my family, me, our other friends...everyone.
Ms. B says I have a frozen Coke on the way around 6, so I will go for now. Just wanted to check in and let you know things are fine thus far...and we are hopeful they remain so. Honestly, the dread of what "could" be is exhausting...but I remain hopeful this time will be different...better, even.
Blessing to each of you!!
~Pandora
I tried to stay quiet and still today...laying in bed while Precious Son flipped between Nascar, the Broncos game, and some marathon with a bunch of terribly skinny people. Laying in bed does nothing for me when not tired...except upset me. I feel so useless and stuck in there. Today is a gorgeous autumn day...with thousands of pictures waiting to be taken, and I am stuck inside because we just have to wait...
Wait to see if I will get sick...
Wait to see if I won't...
Wait to see if some new side effects erupt...
Wait to see if the new medicine regimen works...
Waiting...the last thing an impatient person does well.
I did get to go to the QuarterFinals for marching band yesterday, though. It was hit and miss with the weather and the rain, but the rain stopped and I bundled up. We only stayed long enough for two bands, but that was enough because one of them had our kids in it. :o) They did a great job and I find myself, yet again, amazed at the dedication of these young people. I just do not recall being that motivated at 14-17 years old...to do what these kids do. Maybe I was motivated to get into a little trouble, but certainly not do anything with purpose. Basically, I think I just tried to get away with stuff.
Ms. B brought over some cheesy potato soup, sandwiches, and dutch apple pie this evening. Yummmm. What lifesavers our friends are. We ate it up like wolverines. Seems an impossible task before me to ever be able to repay everyone for their kindness and generosity...but it remains on my mind a great deal. How could we ever even put into words what our friends mean to us much less repay them? Impossible, yes, but I will try. These friends have literally sustained us...us, meaning my family, me, our other friends...everyone.
Ms. B says I have a frozen Coke on the way around 6, so I will go for now. Just wanted to check in and let you know things are fine thus far...and we are hopeful they remain so. Honestly, the dread of what "could" be is exhausting...but I remain hopeful this time will be different...better, even.
Blessing to each of you!!
~Pandora
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