Well, I did it. I wasn’t going to tell you about it until after the first meeting in case I changed my mind or something happened that made my doing it impossible. Apparently, it IS possible…
Yesterday I attended my first class to beginning my new career…I am going to nursing school!!!
Now, I know a LOT of you think I am kidding, because, well, I would have to be. I loathe needles, sick people make me, well, sick…I don’t do body fluids. I get lost in hospitals. The list just goes on and on. So, how did I come up with this?
I was diagnosed with cancer.
Really, that’s about it. I have spent the vast majority of my life avoiding hospitals…sick people…and needles. However, the past year has shown me some of the most incredible people I have ever met. They are caring, they are compassionate, and they are true. They are nurses.
Minus the one guy who denied my mammogram, my entire medical team from start to finish, has been amazingly kind to my family and I. They have seemed genuinely concerned about my health and well-being as well as making sure my family was cared for. I have one chemo nurse who actually brought a strawberry pie to our home, for heaven’s sake!
Maybe there were some nurses who weren’t all about caring and nurturing me, but I don’t recall any of them. The doctors and nurses, the techs and aides, all of them, contributed to my getting well, my healing. So, here we are, at the end of my year of treatment, and I know I am supposed to be one of these caregivers.
I mentioned before how it breaks my heart to go to chemo and see these little, old people get off the Wheels bus ALONE, sit through chemo for hours ALONE, and then wait, sometimes for several more hours, for the Wheels bus to return them to their home, yet again, alone. I don’t want anyone to go through cancer alone. I want to give back. I want to make a difference. I want to hold the scared woman’s hand as her biopsy results are read.
I want to sit and converse with the little old lady who lives alone and has no one to talk to anymore.
I want to pray with people who ask for it and pray for those who don’t.
I want to give someone a hug when the tears have come for some inexplicable reason.
I want to be there when someone is leaving this world for a better one, but they have outlived all family and friends and are about to make the last journey alone.
I want to tell the cancer patient who feels it is impossible that it is indeed, possible.
I want to inspire those who want to give up, give in, and give out…to just give it one more try.
I want to put an arm around a child who is frightened and assure them they are not alone.
I want to connect. I want to engage. I want to give hope. I want to reflect God’s love.
The next two semesters and then one in the summer will have me ready for Track I Nursing. As it turns out, Beautiful Daughter will graduate from high school the same time I graduate from nursing school. What an exciting time that will be for our family!
I am not sure where my nursing career will take me but I do feel inclined toward oncology. I also have deep passion for hospice…always have. I don’t know. I will go where God leads me. He has a tendency to know what’s best for me.
Yesterday, someone said, “But Pandie! You have a Masters degree in business! How does this make sense?” To which I replied, “Because God changed me through the blessings of cancer and I want to bless others.”
I cannot spend the next twenty years in business. Business does not make me happy. I look around every day at my co-workers as they stress and worry and hypothesize about all the things that could go wrong. I don’t want to live like that. I want to focus on, and even help participate in, all the things that could go right…
There are a lot of people in this old world who are alone, downtrodden, scared, unsaved… Maybe I will be the nurse that makes a difference in their life. Maybe my God-given joy will spur the question, “Why are you so happy?” Maybe my can-do attitude will inspire someone to not give up just when they want to most. Maybe my ability to empathize with a cancer patient will show them that the diagnosis does not have to be a death sentence, but can be a life sentence. Maybe my willingness to witness to people will bring someone to the Lord.
Now, there’s a calling.
I have to go study now…
The head bone’s connected to the neck bone…The neck bone’s connected to the shoulder bone…The shoulder bone’s connected to the…
Wednesday, August 25, 2010
Monday, August 23, 2010
Ain't Nothin' Easy...
Original plans had included:
Friday, uneventful labs, chemo, and ice cream. Maybe one movie while cleaning and organizing home office.
Saturday, photoshoot and trip to grocery store. Another movie while working on den and organizing papers.
Sunday, church, finish up pictures for website and upload, ice cream, wait for Big Daddy, bed early for good night’s sleep.
Simplicity.
No drama.
No tears.
Just that “peacefuuuuuuuuuul, easy feelin’ and I know you won’t let me dooooooooooown”…
There is something to be said for well-made plans. I have come to realize that there is also something to be said for not bothering to make plans because it doesn’t matter one iota if you do anyway.
I am a planner. I plan. I schedule. I have lists. I have an agenda, an itinerary, a trajectory, a channel, a P-L-A-N, damn it! I HAVE A PLAN!!!
Perhaps you may have already picked up on my angst. I hate it and even feel discombobulated when my plans go awry. Friday went awry. Actually, Friday went awry and set into motion an entire awry-ness for the whole weekend.
I was off from work because of chemo. That was the only thing that went as planned and the only reason for that is because I didn’t go to work.
Beautiful Daughter was headed to Indiana to see her boyfriend play his first football game of the season. (He is the starting quarterback…YAY!) She and her youth minister, his wife, and one of her best friends were heading up Friday afternoon. I had promised to take her to have her nails done before her trip. So, as soon as Lucky Nails opened, there we were.
An older man pulled into the parking lot at the same time as we did. There was an older woman in the back seat of his car. Beautiful Daughter and I walked through the parking lot. (I always park away from the “best spots” because we are blessed enough to be able to walk and there are others who are not.) So, as we made our way to the salon door, we overheard the older man chastising the older lady. Instant rage ran through me. How could he talk to her that way?? I heard him mention “getting your nails done”, so I knew they were coming into the salon…and I would just wait for my opportunity…
The lady was in a wheelchair and the man was being very gruff and hateful. Beautiful Daughter and I sat down as she perused the plethora of purple and pink polishes. The man continued on. He wanted so-and-so to do the lady’s nails but they did not have an appointment and so-and-so DID have someone on the books for 10am, so someone else had to do the lady’s nails.
It was this couple’s 58th wedding anniversary…and he seemed so put out. So angry. So irritated. It was running right over me. I told Beautiful Daughter I would be back and I got up and went and sat by the older man.
Obviously there was some sort of health issue with the woman. She was in a wheelchair, unable to walk. She was frail and looked very thin. She was easily eighty years old. Her hair was perfectly coiffed and her attire was classic polyester from the 70’s. She looked lovely to me. I thought she was just beautiful.
I sat next to the man and asked if I had overheard correctly about he and his wife being married for 58 years. He said yes and immediately went into detail about how tired he was from taking care of her. How exhausted he was. How spent he was. He was not winning me over, to say the least.
I came right out and asked him… “So, do you all go to church?” He said, yes, yes, of course they did and told how they had been members at the same church for over thirty years. On and on and on he went. When he finally took a breath I said it…I just came right out and said it…
“So, God chose you to love her. To protect her and care for her. Extraordinary calling.”
He said nothing. He just looked at me and then back at her, his wife of 58 years, fragile and lean, getting her nails done. He took a deep breath. It was obvious that something shifted in his head…or his heart…
“I don’t know how much longer I can do this. I’m tired. She has dementia. She depends on me for everything. I’m so tired. She will probably outlive me and I don’t know what I am going to do.”
It came to me as if God, Himself told me to say it…
“Just love her.”
And that was that. Beautiful Daughter was finished with her nails and it was time to go. I shook the man’s hand and went over to his wife. I knelt down beside of her wheelchair and she looked at me with aged eyes…
“I hope you have a wonderful anniversary today. You look absolutely beautiful. I find you to be so lovely.”
The elderly lady nodded and thanked me and then she reached up her frail, vein-exposed hands and hugged my neck as I stood.
Beautiful Daughter asked me why I was crying as we left Lucky Nails. I couldn’t quite put into words as to why I was crying outside of knowing what that kind of unselfish love it takes to care for someone who cannot care for themself. I have seen that love. I have been the recipient of that love…and it is inspiring. Big Daddy will never know the depth of my love for him, but I have been blessed to gather a tangible glimpse of his love for me this past year…and I am humbled and grateful.
We went on home after some errands and Beautiful Daughter began to get ready for her trip. I went ahead and left for the hospital as it was nearing 12:30…
My chemo staff gives me a blue sheet with all pending appointments on it…it serves as part of my plan, you see. The blue sheet hangs on the refrigerator and all entries into my calendar are weighed with this blue sheet items in mind. My calendar has saved me this past year. There are several appointments to attend for a cancer patient. Just fyi. The calendar goes with me everywhere and is laden with blue sheet appointments. It works. The appointments listed for Friday on the blue sheet coincided with the calendar appointments, so off I went for labs and blood work, scheduled for 12:30pm.
Linda, the very sweet phlebotomist I have mentioned before, had her little clock sign on the door stating she would return at 1pm. Well, ok…I guess? This was unusual because I had never been mis-scheduled for Linda. This is how it works… Linda for blood draw, then see Dr. Horn who reviews my blood work, then on to chemo. Ok. Glitch. No big deal…
Linda sees me sitting outside her lab at 12:50 and comes out and we have this conversation:
Linda: “Pandie, did you want me to draw your blood?”
Me: “Um, obviously this is a trick question since I hate needles so much, but yes?”
Linda: “Well, I just didn’t know if you wanted me to do it or the Clinic.”
Me: “What? What are you talking about? I don’t have anything at the Clinic today.”
Linda: “You are on the schedule for a CAT Scan today, Honey.”
INSTANT PANIC because a Cat Scan means WITH CONTRAST and WITH CONTRAST means another IV… This is something I have to prepare for mentally. You can’t just go into an unplanned CAT Scan willy nilly. You have to prepare for it…the emotional toll it takes. You can’t just walk in there blind, for heaven’s sake!
Me: “But I don’t know anything about a CAT Scan today. Here, look at my calendar… See?? It isn’t on there!”
Linda: “Ok. Well, let me call over there and see what’s going on.”
*continue hyperventilating while Linda is gone*
Linda: “Well, you were scheduled but someone cancelled it, but here’s the thing, if I draw your blood, then the results won’t be to Dr. Horn until after 3 because the courier already left. So, if I draw it, you will be way behind schedule.”
*no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!*
Linda: “If you go to the Clinic and ask for Rhonda, she can draw it right now and you will still be able to keep your appointments. Rhonda is a good stick. She can do you. Don’t worry, Honey.”
Me: “Uh….well….uh….ok, then. I’ll go over there. And then I just come back here?”
Linda: “Yes, just tell Jennifer that you are back.”
So, I leave and go to the Clinic for them to draw my blood. I don’t know the name of the lady who drew the short straw and got me, but this is how that went down:
Lady with a Needle: “Just sit right here and we’ll get this over with.”
She taps and rubs and flicks my arm looking for the vein. The tears begin to well up in my eyes…
Me: “I’m a hard stick.”
Tears flow.
Lady with a Needle: “Oh, Honey, it’s fine. Look! Here’s a nice big one!”
Me: “Am I THAT pathetic that you are resorting to lying about finding a big vein?”
Lady with a Needle: “Yes. I hate it when people cry.”
So, the Lady with the Needle stuck me and drew three vials of blood. She put a cottonball over the hole in my arm and then put that tape on that sticks really well to your arm hair…even when you don’t have arm hair and I was on my way.
My appointments were back on track and I did take some comfort in that, being me and all. I met with Dr. Horn and he only had positive things to say at my checkup…
“You look great!” “Things are going well!” “I am very pleased with your progress.” “You blood-sugar level is down 10 points…are you laying off the ice cream, a bit?” (hahaha) And the last thing Dr. Horn said to me was this…
“Well, according to my notes your next chemo will be your last one. Congratulations! You did it! Your year is up, Honey.”
Instant tears.
“Ah. Tears of joy, yes?”, Dr. Horn asked me.
“Well, I have felt joy before and I don’t think this is it. I honestly don’t know WHAT this is. I feel emotionally overwhelmed. I don’t know what I am feeling, Dr. Horn…”
Dr. Horn patted me on the shoulder and assured me that whatever I was feeling was normal and that is was most likely a fear-based emotion whereas, for the past year, I was actively doing something to combat the illness. With my next chemo being the last, my proactive stance stops. No more chemo. No more radiation. No more surgeries to remove the cancer…
Unless it comes back…
And why shouldn’t it?
Why wouldn’t it?
As I said, I was overwhelmed. I sat in the waiting room after leaving Dr. Horn and waited for the chemo nurse to come and get me. Babs was with me and she just listened as I cried and worried and cried and wondered and cried some more. Babs remains one of the most compassionate people in my life. She knows when to hug, when to reassure, when to hold your hand, and when to be silent.
The chemo nurse came and got me and noticed right away I had been crying…was crying, whatever. She asked if I was okay and I assured her I was. We talked a bit about how many patients are fearful to end their treatments and she tried to reassure me that I was normal and not crazy.
Think about it. Shouldn’t I be elated to be at the end of receiving chemo? Sure, I should!!! But I wasn’t. I was scared. I still am…
Babs and I talked all through chemo and the time flew by, just like always when I am with her. When it was over, she went on to check on her mother, whose cancer has returned now for the third time…
I ran some errands and caught myself sniffling around here and there, battling tears that were going to run down my cheeks despite my best efforts. What a long day. I thought I would feel better if I stopped and picked up some….you guessed it, ice cream.
By now, it was around 4:30pm and I had not eaten all day. I was feeling kind of yucky and then not having eaten, just made it worse. All I wanted to do was go home, eat my ice cream, and decompress. I had no more than walked in the door then my cell phone rang.
Big Daddy was out of town and had an emergency come up with our business, so I had to run out and buy something and then find our guys and give it to them. My ice cream sat alone…spoonless.
By the time I got back home after fighting with the five o’clock rush-ers, I was just so tired…emotionally and mentally…heck, throw in physically, too. I just wanted to retreat into my bedroom and chill with my pralines and cream. However, this did not happen. Even though I had rented FOUR movies to watch this weekend, I could see squeezing them into my “changed” schedule was not going to be as easy as fitting them into my “planned” schedule.
I was throwing up in the bathroom when the doorbell rang. Son of a…
Anyway, it was the cable guys coming to install our new mini-boxes. Yes, I had actually requested the 5-9pm slot because I knew I would be home by then. So, my post-chemo evening was now being interrupted with vomiting AND two cable guys. Nice.
Knowing the rules as I do, I know to never, ever, EVER tell anyone that Big Daddy is out of town.
Cable Guy #1: “So, where’s your husband?”
Me: “He’s in Bristol for the race.”
Voice Inside My Head: “STUPID! STUPID! STUPID!”
The guys were very nice and even though my carton of Blue Bell Praline and Cream was sitting on the bathroom counter, they never noticed. You see, I was almost about to have a moment of peace… Beautiful Daughter was in Indiana, Precious Son was out with his friends at a baseball game, Big Daddy was in Virginia, and here I was with my delicious ice cream, about to watch something good.
Well, that was the plan, at least...
The cable guys left and before I knew it I was watching 20/20 about a serial murderer. Of course, this led to me not being able to sleep and then a bright and early photoshoot Saturday morning.
At least the weather was cooperating with my plans.
At 9am, the sky was overcast, which is actually a good thing for photography. No shadows. No sun glare. No blazing heat.
So, you surely know what’s coming next… If that was the weather at 9…then you know that at 9:45, there was a deluge.
Thank you for playing.
The sky opened up and the rain, rain, rain came down, down, down and it looked pretty worrisome. However, I checked weather.com and it was clear that it was not going to rain Saturday, so I waited it out and the photoshoot went on as planned.
We were gone for six hours…but this was a special young lady and I had wanted to spend as much time as possible with her for lots of reasons, but primarily because I love her. We were caught in the rain once and while this sounds like a bad thing, it turned out fine. She had just come from the beauty salon and her hair had been straightened. This was the look that went best with her formal dress. Now that we were on to casual clothes, having her gorgeous hair curl up only made the pictures even more lovely.
I fed her but neglected to eat. I was starving around 4pm, when I got home. As I was about to fix myself something to eat, I was notified that Precious Son had hurt his ankle pretty badly and it was swelling really fast.
I got Precious Son home from Frisbee and tended to his ankle with ice, Ibuprofen, and TLC. I asked him if he wanted to take a shower and he said no…well, until his girlfriend was headed over and then he did. You know, after I had wrapped and iced his ankle…
So, one by one, they came…Precious Son’s friends. By the time all was said and done and Beautiful Daughter and her BFF came, there were nine teenagers in our house and Lucy. I don’t have enough “cyberspace” to relate all the drama that went on, but suffice it to say that there was plenty. After around midnight, I called it a day and went to bed. I think at some point, I did eat, but I don’t recall.
Sunday morning came and I still had not watched a single movie…had not cleaned a single room…had not gone to the grocery store or done anything outside of eight loads of laundry. Why did I do laundry? I actually love laundry. Weird, but true. Anyway, so doing the laundry was not seen as a “chore”. I woke up and got the kids up and out the door for church and I closed my eyes for just a minute…and then it was noon.
Yep, I missed church. I slept right through it. I knew I was tired but not really THAT tired. You never know with the chemo, though…sometimes it makes me more fatigued than others. Plus, the whole serial murderer thing…maybe I was that tired.
I got my laptop. I got my four movies. I got my new remote courtesy of the two cable guys and our new “mini boxes” and I situated myself on my bed. I worked on my photos from the photoshoot for hours. I watched “Grey Gardens” with Drew Barrymore about aunt and first cousin of Jacqueline Bouvier Kennedy Onassis. The two women lived together at Grey Gardens for decades with limited funds, resulting in squalor and almost total isolation. Good movie. Then, I continued working on my photos, because there are a LOT of photos from a six hour shoot…and I watched “Away We Go”. This movie starred Maya Rudolph and Jim from The Office, a.k.a. John Krasinski. The last movie I watched, as I took a break from the photos and waited for Big Daddy to ride in on his Harley, was “Extraordinary Measures” with Harrison Ford, Keri Russell, and Brendan Fraser. Excellent movie, in fact, the best movie I have seen in a long time. I liked all the movies I watched but this one, had everything that makes a movie good for me.
My favorite kind of movie is one based on a true story. “Grey Gardens” and “Extraordinary Measures” were both based on true stories. “Away We Go” was as close to reality as you can stand, so I think it was based on a true story, too. It’s about these two thirty-something people who become pregnant and decide to find a place to raise their daughter since the dad’s parents have lost their minds and are moving to Belgium for two years…you know, as the one and only grandchild is on the way? This movie made me laugh out loud.
Big Daddy got home but the kids were at church and so he and I went to dinner. I could tell something was wrong and he eventually shared with me. By the time we left the restaurant, I just wanted to go to bed and pull the covers over my head, but alas, I had yet to go to the grocery store.
Ugh.
So, I went to Kroger by myself and spent way more money that I usually do for the exact same products at Wal-Mart. I was hoping to be inspired by new items and new brands for dinner ideas, but really, I ended up with the same sort of stuff, just more pricey. I came home. The kids went to bed. Big Daddy and I talked until we felt sleepy and then it was lights out.
Apparently, the whole “lights out” thing managed to accomplish the lights indeed, going out, and my sleepiness dissolving, thus allowing me to remain wide awake.
Throughout the night, I tossed and turned, got a drink of water, moved the dogs off of me because I was hot, gathered up the dogs and put them next to me because I was cold, and fought with the covers.
Then, the alarm went off.
Ain’t nothin’ easy.
Hello , Monday...and yes, I have a plan.
Additional Note: Please remember that I have pared down the events so as not to overwhelm, but let me tell ya, for somebody that doesn’t cry…I surely shed a lot of tears this weekend. Lesson? Stay away from Lucky Nails on Saturday mornings…it just sets a bad precedent. Oh, and NOTHING gets cleaned and ZERO papers get organized. You have been warned. Learn from my mistakes, people...save yourselves...
Friday, uneventful labs, chemo, and ice cream. Maybe one movie while cleaning and organizing home office.
Saturday, photoshoot and trip to grocery store. Another movie while working on den and organizing papers.
Sunday, church, finish up pictures for website and upload, ice cream, wait for Big Daddy, bed early for good night’s sleep.
Simplicity.
No drama.
No tears.
Just that “peacefuuuuuuuuuul, easy feelin’ and I know you won’t let me dooooooooooown”…
There is something to be said for well-made plans. I have come to realize that there is also something to be said for not bothering to make plans because it doesn’t matter one iota if you do anyway.
I am a planner. I plan. I schedule. I have lists. I have an agenda, an itinerary, a trajectory, a channel, a P-L-A-N, damn it! I HAVE A PLAN!!!
Perhaps you may have already picked up on my angst. I hate it and even feel discombobulated when my plans go awry. Friday went awry. Actually, Friday went awry and set into motion an entire awry-ness for the whole weekend.
I was off from work because of chemo. That was the only thing that went as planned and the only reason for that is because I didn’t go to work.
Beautiful Daughter was headed to Indiana to see her boyfriend play his first football game of the season. (He is the starting quarterback…YAY!) She and her youth minister, his wife, and one of her best friends were heading up Friday afternoon. I had promised to take her to have her nails done before her trip. So, as soon as Lucky Nails opened, there we were.
An older man pulled into the parking lot at the same time as we did. There was an older woman in the back seat of his car. Beautiful Daughter and I walked through the parking lot. (I always park away from the “best spots” because we are blessed enough to be able to walk and there are others who are not.) So, as we made our way to the salon door, we overheard the older man chastising the older lady. Instant rage ran through me. How could he talk to her that way?? I heard him mention “getting your nails done”, so I knew they were coming into the salon…and I would just wait for my opportunity…
The lady was in a wheelchair and the man was being very gruff and hateful. Beautiful Daughter and I sat down as she perused the plethora of purple and pink polishes. The man continued on. He wanted so-and-so to do the lady’s nails but they did not have an appointment and so-and-so DID have someone on the books for 10am, so someone else had to do the lady’s nails.
It was this couple’s 58th wedding anniversary…and he seemed so put out. So angry. So irritated. It was running right over me. I told Beautiful Daughter I would be back and I got up and went and sat by the older man.
Obviously there was some sort of health issue with the woman. She was in a wheelchair, unable to walk. She was frail and looked very thin. She was easily eighty years old. Her hair was perfectly coiffed and her attire was classic polyester from the 70’s. She looked lovely to me. I thought she was just beautiful.
I sat next to the man and asked if I had overheard correctly about he and his wife being married for 58 years. He said yes and immediately went into detail about how tired he was from taking care of her. How exhausted he was. How spent he was. He was not winning me over, to say the least.
I came right out and asked him… “So, do you all go to church?” He said, yes, yes, of course they did and told how they had been members at the same church for over thirty years. On and on and on he went. When he finally took a breath I said it…I just came right out and said it…
“So, God chose you to love her. To protect her and care for her. Extraordinary calling.”
He said nothing. He just looked at me and then back at her, his wife of 58 years, fragile and lean, getting her nails done. He took a deep breath. It was obvious that something shifted in his head…or his heart…
“I don’t know how much longer I can do this. I’m tired. She has dementia. She depends on me for everything. I’m so tired. She will probably outlive me and I don’t know what I am going to do.”
It came to me as if God, Himself told me to say it…
“Just love her.”
And that was that. Beautiful Daughter was finished with her nails and it was time to go. I shook the man’s hand and went over to his wife. I knelt down beside of her wheelchair and she looked at me with aged eyes…
“I hope you have a wonderful anniversary today. You look absolutely beautiful. I find you to be so lovely.”
The elderly lady nodded and thanked me and then she reached up her frail, vein-exposed hands and hugged my neck as I stood.
Beautiful Daughter asked me why I was crying as we left Lucky Nails. I couldn’t quite put into words as to why I was crying outside of knowing what that kind of unselfish love it takes to care for someone who cannot care for themself. I have seen that love. I have been the recipient of that love…and it is inspiring. Big Daddy will never know the depth of my love for him, but I have been blessed to gather a tangible glimpse of his love for me this past year…and I am humbled and grateful.
We went on home after some errands and Beautiful Daughter began to get ready for her trip. I went ahead and left for the hospital as it was nearing 12:30…
My chemo staff gives me a blue sheet with all pending appointments on it…it serves as part of my plan, you see. The blue sheet hangs on the refrigerator and all entries into my calendar are weighed with this blue sheet items in mind. My calendar has saved me this past year. There are several appointments to attend for a cancer patient. Just fyi. The calendar goes with me everywhere and is laden with blue sheet appointments. It works. The appointments listed for Friday on the blue sheet coincided with the calendar appointments, so off I went for labs and blood work, scheduled for 12:30pm.
Linda, the very sweet phlebotomist I have mentioned before, had her little clock sign on the door stating she would return at 1pm. Well, ok…I guess? This was unusual because I had never been mis-scheduled for Linda. This is how it works… Linda for blood draw, then see Dr. Horn who reviews my blood work, then on to chemo. Ok. Glitch. No big deal…
Linda sees me sitting outside her lab at 12:50 and comes out and we have this conversation:
Linda: “Pandie, did you want me to draw your blood?”
Me: “Um, obviously this is a trick question since I hate needles so much, but yes?”
Linda: “Well, I just didn’t know if you wanted me to do it or the Clinic.”
Me: “What? What are you talking about? I don’t have anything at the Clinic today.”
Linda: “You are on the schedule for a CAT Scan today, Honey.”
INSTANT PANIC because a Cat Scan means WITH CONTRAST and WITH CONTRAST means another IV… This is something I have to prepare for mentally. You can’t just go into an unplanned CAT Scan willy nilly. You have to prepare for it…the emotional toll it takes. You can’t just walk in there blind, for heaven’s sake!
Me: “But I don’t know anything about a CAT Scan today. Here, look at my calendar… See?? It isn’t on there!”
Linda: “Ok. Well, let me call over there and see what’s going on.”
*continue hyperventilating while Linda is gone*
Linda: “Well, you were scheduled but someone cancelled it, but here’s the thing, if I draw your blood, then the results won’t be to Dr. Horn until after 3 because the courier already left. So, if I draw it, you will be way behind schedule.”
*no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!*
Linda: “If you go to the Clinic and ask for Rhonda, she can draw it right now and you will still be able to keep your appointments. Rhonda is a good stick. She can do you. Don’t worry, Honey.”
Me: “Uh….well….uh….ok, then. I’ll go over there. And then I just come back here?”
Linda: “Yes, just tell Jennifer that you are back.”
So, I leave and go to the Clinic for them to draw my blood. I don’t know the name of the lady who drew the short straw and got me, but this is how that went down:
Lady with a Needle: “Just sit right here and we’ll get this over with.”
She taps and rubs and flicks my arm looking for the vein. The tears begin to well up in my eyes…
Me: “I’m a hard stick.”
Tears flow.
Lady with a Needle: “Oh, Honey, it’s fine. Look! Here’s a nice big one!”
Me: “Am I THAT pathetic that you are resorting to lying about finding a big vein?”
Lady with a Needle: “Yes. I hate it when people cry.”
So, the Lady with the Needle stuck me and drew three vials of blood. She put a cottonball over the hole in my arm and then put that tape on that sticks really well to your arm hair…even when you don’t have arm hair and I was on my way.
My appointments were back on track and I did take some comfort in that, being me and all. I met with Dr. Horn and he only had positive things to say at my checkup…
“You look great!” “Things are going well!” “I am very pleased with your progress.” “You blood-sugar level is down 10 points…are you laying off the ice cream, a bit?” (hahaha) And the last thing Dr. Horn said to me was this…
“Well, according to my notes your next chemo will be your last one. Congratulations! You did it! Your year is up, Honey.”
Instant tears.
“Ah. Tears of joy, yes?”, Dr. Horn asked me.
“Well, I have felt joy before and I don’t think this is it. I honestly don’t know WHAT this is. I feel emotionally overwhelmed. I don’t know what I am feeling, Dr. Horn…”
Dr. Horn patted me on the shoulder and assured me that whatever I was feeling was normal and that is was most likely a fear-based emotion whereas, for the past year, I was actively doing something to combat the illness. With my next chemo being the last, my proactive stance stops. No more chemo. No more radiation. No more surgeries to remove the cancer…
Unless it comes back…
And why shouldn’t it?
Why wouldn’t it?
As I said, I was overwhelmed. I sat in the waiting room after leaving Dr. Horn and waited for the chemo nurse to come and get me. Babs was with me and she just listened as I cried and worried and cried and wondered and cried some more. Babs remains one of the most compassionate people in my life. She knows when to hug, when to reassure, when to hold your hand, and when to be silent.
The chemo nurse came and got me and noticed right away I had been crying…was crying, whatever. She asked if I was okay and I assured her I was. We talked a bit about how many patients are fearful to end their treatments and she tried to reassure me that I was normal and not crazy.
Think about it. Shouldn’t I be elated to be at the end of receiving chemo? Sure, I should!!! But I wasn’t. I was scared. I still am…
Babs and I talked all through chemo and the time flew by, just like always when I am with her. When it was over, she went on to check on her mother, whose cancer has returned now for the third time…
I ran some errands and caught myself sniffling around here and there, battling tears that were going to run down my cheeks despite my best efforts. What a long day. I thought I would feel better if I stopped and picked up some….you guessed it, ice cream.
By now, it was around 4:30pm and I had not eaten all day. I was feeling kind of yucky and then not having eaten, just made it worse. All I wanted to do was go home, eat my ice cream, and decompress. I had no more than walked in the door then my cell phone rang.
Big Daddy was out of town and had an emergency come up with our business, so I had to run out and buy something and then find our guys and give it to them. My ice cream sat alone…spoonless.
By the time I got back home after fighting with the five o’clock rush-ers, I was just so tired…emotionally and mentally…heck, throw in physically, too. I just wanted to retreat into my bedroom and chill with my pralines and cream. However, this did not happen. Even though I had rented FOUR movies to watch this weekend, I could see squeezing them into my “changed” schedule was not going to be as easy as fitting them into my “planned” schedule.
I was throwing up in the bathroom when the doorbell rang. Son of a…
Anyway, it was the cable guys coming to install our new mini-boxes. Yes, I had actually requested the 5-9pm slot because I knew I would be home by then. So, my post-chemo evening was now being interrupted with vomiting AND two cable guys. Nice.
Knowing the rules as I do, I know to never, ever, EVER tell anyone that Big Daddy is out of town.
Cable Guy #1: “So, where’s your husband?”
Me: “He’s in Bristol for the race.”
Voice Inside My Head: “STUPID! STUPID! STUPID!”
The guys were very nice and even though my carton of Blue Bell Praline and Cream was sitting on the bathroom counter, they never noticed. You see, I was almost about to have a moment of peace… Beautiful Daughter was in Indiana, Precious Son was out with his friends at a baseball game, Big Daddy was in Virginia, and here I was with my delicious ice cream, about to watch something good.
Well, that was the plan, at least...
The cable guys left and before I knew it I was watching 20/20 about a serial murderer. Of course, this led to me not being able to sleep and then a bright and early photoshoot Saturday morning.
At least the weather was cooperating with my plans.
At 9am, the sky was overcast, which is actually a good thing for photography. No shadows. No sun glare. No blazing heat.
So, you surely know what’s coming next… If that was the weather at 9…then you know that at 9:45, there was a deluge.
Thank you for playing.
The sky opened up and the rain, rain, rain came down, down, down and it looked pretty worrisome. However, I checked weather.com and it was clear that it was not going to rain Saturday, so I waited it out and the photoshoot went on as planned.
We were gone for six hours…but this was a special young lady and I had wanted to spend as much time as possible with her for lots of reasons, but primarily because I love her. We were caught in the rain once and while this sounds like a bad thing, it turned out fine. She had just come from the beauty salon and her hair had been straightened. This was the look that went best with her formal dress. Now that we were on to casual clothes, having her gorgeous hair curl up only made the pictures even more lovely.
I fed her but neglected to eat. I was starving around 4pm, when I got home. As I was about to fix myself something to eat, I was notified that Precious Son had hurt his ankle pretty badly and it was swelling really fast.
I got Precious Son home from Frisbee and tended to his ankle with ice, Ibuprofen, and TLC. I asked him if he wanted to take a shower and he said no…well, until his girlfriend was headed over and then he did. You know, after I had wrapped and iced his ankle…
So, one by one, they came…Precious Son’s friends. By the time all was said and done and Beautiful Daughter and her BFF came, there were nine teenagers in our house and Lucy. I don’t have enough “cyberspace” to relate all the drama that went on, but suffice it to say that there was plenty. After around midnight, I called it a day and went to bed. I think at some point, I did eat, but I don’t recall.
Sunday morning came and I still had not watched a single movie…had not cleaned a single room…had not gone to the grocery store or done anything outside of eight loads of laundry. Why did I do laundry? I actually love laundry. Weird, but true. Anyway, so doing the laundry was not seen as a “chore”. I woke up and got the kids up and out the door for church and I closed my eyes for just a minute…and then it was noon.
Yep, I missed church. I slept right through it. I knew I was tired but not really THAT tired. You never know with the chemo, though…sometimes it makes me more fatigued than others. Plus, the whole serial murderer thing…maybe I was that tired.
I got my laptop. I got my four movies. I got my new remote courtesy of the two cable guys and our new “mini boxes” and I situated myself on my bed. I worked on my photos from the photoshoot for hours. I watched “Grey Gardens” with Drew Barrymore about aunt and first cousin of Jacqueline Bouvier Kennedy Onassis. The two women lived together at Grey Gardens for decades with limited funds, resulting in squalor and almost total isolation. Good movie. Then, I continued working on my photos, because there are a LOT of photos from a six hour shoot…and I watched “Away We Go”. This movie starred Maya Rudolph and Jim from The Office, a.k.a. John Krasinski. The last movie I watched, as I took a break from the photos and waited for Big Daddy to ride in on his Harley, was “Extraordinary Measures” with Harrison Ford, Keri Russell, and Brendan Fraser. Excellent movie, in fact, the best movie I have seen in a long time. I liked all the movies I watched but this one, had everything that makes a movie good for me.
My favorite kind of movie is one based on a true story. “Grey Gardens” and “Extraordinary Measures” were both based on true stories. “Away We Go” was as close to reality as you can stand, so I think it was based on a true story, too. It’s about these two thirty-something people who become pregnant and decide to find a place to raise their daughter since the dad’s parents have lost their minds and are moving to Belgium for two years…you know, as the one and only grandchild is on the way? This movie made me laugh out loud.
Big Daddy got home but the kids were at church and so he and I went to dinner. I could tell something was wrong and he eventually shared with me. By the time we left the restaurant, I just wanted to go to bed and pull the covers over my head, but alas, I had yet to go to the grocery store.
Ugh.
So, I went to Kroger by myself and spent way more money that I usually do for the exact same products at Wal-Mart. I was hoping to be inspired by new items and new brands for dinner ideas, but really, I ended up with the same sort of stuff, just more pricey. I came home. The kids went to bed. Big Daddy and I talked until we felt sleepy and then it was lights out.
Apparently, the whole “lights out” thing managed to accomplish the lights indeed, going out, and my sleepiness dissolving, thus allowing me to remain wide awake.
Throughout the night, I tossed and turned, got a drink of water, moved the dogs off of me because I was hot, gathered up the dogs and put them next to me because I was cold, and fought with the covers.
Then, the alarm went off.
Ain’t nothin’ easy.
Hello , Monday...and yes, I have a plan.
Additional Note: Please remember that I have pared down the events so as not to overwhelm, but let me tell ya, for somebody that doesn’t cry…I surely shed a lot of tears this weekend. Lesson? Stay away from Lucky Nails on Saturday mornings…it just sets a bad precedent. Oh, and NOTHING gets cleaned and ZERO papers get organized. You have been warned. Learn from my mistakes, people...save yourselves...
Friday, August 13, 2010
The New Millenia..as in Mazda
Yesterday had to be one of the happiest days of my life. Big Daddy and I presented Precious Son with his very own vehicle. The look on that boy’s face will reside within my heart for as long as I live.
Big Daddy and I had been keeping an eye out for a good car for Precious Son, but we had not found “the one”. Yesterday took us to Frankfort to look at a friend’s side business of car sales. There she was…
2002 Mazda Millenia. Metallic Gold. Sunroof. All Leather Interior. Bose stereo. New tires. 6 CD In-Dash Player. Cruise Control. Power Windows, Locks, and a Remote Starter.
Even cupholders.
Nice.
We went to the Party Store and bought big, red bows along with one of those flashy, tabletop decorations that had auto racing colors and flags cascading down with a LOT of silvery, aluminum strips screaming “tacky, but cool!!!”.
Big Daddy and I worked out this plan where we would park the car in front of the high school because we pick up our kids in the back after band practice. This was already a big night because it was Band Night at Chik Fil-A where 20% of sales go to the marching band. Oh, the tension in the air! Anyway, we parked the car in front of the school, decorated it with the tacky but cool bows and a gynormous green balloon. (Green is Precious Son’s favorite color.) We then drove around back in my Suburban and waited.
We waited.
And waited.
And waited.
Finally, at 6:15pm, some of the kids began filing out. Big Daddy and I were beside ourselves! We had asked Precious Son’s girlfriend’s mom if she could bring Girlfriend to the front of the school because we knew Precious Son would want her to be the first to see his new ride. We were all in the parking lot exchanging text messages as Precious Son and Girlfriend were the absolute LAST to come out from the school. Beautiful Daughter had already made it to the truck…finally, here came Precious Son.
We had plenty of time for the usual exchanges such as “how was your day?” and “do you have any homework?”, because it takes for-ev-er to leave the parking lot. After the idle chitchat, Big Daddy asked what we should do for dinner, as if he had forgotten about Chik Fil-A.
The kids were quick to point out Spirit Night and then Big Daddy, as we had rehearsed, vocalized his neeeeeeeeeeeeeed for oysters and it was indeed oyster night at the seafood place. I suggested Big Daddy get his oysters “to go” and then we could all eat at Chik Fil-A. I then faked a phone-in order to The Ketch and we went down in front of the school, heading that way…
The car came into sight…all decked out with the biggest balloon made in the world and tacky but cool red bows along with the tribute to NASCAR tabletop spray. Fighting all that was within me to NOT scream out “THERE’S YOUR NEW CAR, PRECIOUS SON!!!!”, I stuck to the script:
“Well, looky there. Someone got a new car today! Do you all know who got the new car?”
The kids both chimed in with a “no, Mom” taking that question as one more piece of evidence that they are both abused and mistreated because they have to ride the bus to school…
Then, just as we rehearsed it, Big Daddy turned around to Precious Son and tossed him the keys saying, “Hey, Buddy, why not try these keys and see if they fit?”
As I said, the look on that boy’s face will reside within my heart for as long as I live.
Precious Son barely let me put the Suburban in “park” before he bounded out of the vehicle and ran over to check out his first car. To say he was excited is quite possibly the biggest understatement in the history of mankind. Precious Son continually thanked his dad and I as he jumped in and tried out the adjustable seats, power windows, and stereo, of course. Girlfriend hopped into the passenger side and they both posed for me and my camera with looks of sheer joy. I was giddy from their happiness. We all were. Lucy and her family were there along with one of Beautiful Daughter’s best friends. We were all just as excited for Precious Son as he was for himself.
Giving your child their very first car may seem like a “normal” thing or a “rite of passage” without much emotionalism attached to it, but this was not the case for either Big Daddy or myself. This is the car that will take our baby boy away from us…away to college…away to adulthood and his own life. This is the car we will watch him drive away in, packed to the roof with UK basketball posters, Denver Bronco duffel bags, and brand new bedding to go on his college dorm mattress.
In actuality, we just gave Precious Son the means to leave home, leave us. I pray it is a safe journey every time he takes the wheel whether it is to pick up some Cheezits and Mountain Dew or to take the love of his life to their special place so that he can propose.
We didn’t just give Precious Son a car yesterday, we gave him permission to become a grown up…
Dear God, please continue to prepare my heart for the day Precious Son leaves for college and adulthood. Please keep him in Your care and allow him to feel Your presence. I pray he seeks Your will and Your way. Please continue to guide and direct his father and I so that our words and deeds reflect Your love. This is my son, God, the very reason I exist. Please protect and keep him safe, happy, healthy, and in Your will. Amen.
Big Daddy and I had been keeping an eye out for a good car for Precious Son, but we had not found “the one”. Yesterday took us to Frankfort to look at a friend’s side business of car sales. There she was…
2002 Mazda Millenia. Metallic Gold. Sunroof. All Leather Interior. Bose stereo. New tires. 6 CD In-Dash Player. Cruise Control. Power Windows, Locks, and a Remote Starter.
Even cupholders.
Nice.
We went to the Party Store and bought big, red bows along with one of those flashy, tabletop decorations that had auto racing colors and flags cascading down with a LOT of silvery, aluminum strips screaming “tacky, but cool!!!”.
Big Daddy and I worked out this plan where we would park the car in front of the high school because we pick up our kids in the back after band practice. This was already a big night because it was Band Night at Chik Fil-A where 20% of sales go to the marching band. Oh, the tension in the air! Anyway, we parked the car in front of the school, decorated it with the tacky but cool bows and a gynormous green balloon. (Green is Precious Son’s favorite color.) We then drove around back in my Suburban and waited.
We waited.
And waited.
And waited.
Finally, at 6:15pm, some of the kids began filing out. Big Daddy and I were beside ourselves! We had asked Precious Son’s girlfriend’s mom if she could bring Girlfriend to the front of the school because we knew Precious Son would want her to be the first to see his new ride. We were all in the parking lot exchanging text messages as Precious Son and Girlfriend were the absolute LAST to come out from the school. Beautiful Daughter had already made it to the truck…finally, here came Precious Son.
We had plenty of time for the usual exchanges such as “how was your day?” and “do you have any homework?”, because it takes for-ev-er to leave the parking lot. After the idle chitchat, Big Daddy asked what we should do for dinner, as if he had forgotten about Chik Fil-A.
The kids were quick to point out Spirit Night and then Big Daddy, as we had rehearsed, vocalized his neeeeeeeeeeeeeed for oysters and it was indeed oyster night at the seafood place. I suggested Big Daddy get his oysters “to go” and then we could all eat at Chik Fil-A. I then faked a phone-in order to The Ketch and we went down in front of the school, heading that way…
The car came into sight…all decked out with the biggest balloon made in the world and tacky but cool red bows along with the tribute to NASCAR tabletop spray. Fighting all that was within me to NOT scream out “THERE’S YOUR NEW CAR, PRECIOUS SON!!!!”, I stuck to the script:
“Well, looky there. Someone got a new car today! Do you all know who got the new car?”
The kids both chimed in with a “no, Mom” taking that question as one more piece of evidence that they are both abused and mistreated because they have to ride the bus to school…
Then, just as we rehearsed it, Big Daddy turned around to Precious Son and tossed him the keys saying, “Hey, Buddy, why not try these keys and see if they fit?”
As I said, the look on that boy’s face will reside within my heart for as long as I live.
Precious Son barely let me put the Suburban in “park” before he bounded out of the vehicle and ran over to check out his first car. To say he was excited is quite possibly the biggest understatement in the history of mankind. Precious Son continually thanked his dad and I as he jumped in and tried out the adjustable seats, power windows, and stereo, of course. Girlfriend hopped into the passenger side and they both posed for me and my camera with looks of sheer joy. I was giddy from their happiness. We all were. Lucy and her family were there along with one of Beautiful Daughter’s best friends. We were all just as excited for Precious Son as he was for himself.
Giving your child their very first car may seem like a “normal” thing or a “rite of passage” without much emotionalism attached to it, but this was not the case for either Big Daddy or myself. This is the car that will take our baby boy away from us…away to college…away to adulthood and his own life. This is the car we will watch him drive away in, packed to the roof with UK basketball posters, Denver Bronco duffel bags, and brand new bedding to go on his college dorm mattress.
In actuality, we just gave Precious Son the means to leave home, leave us. I pray it is a safe journey every time he takes the wheel whether it is to pick up some Cheezits and Mountain Dew or to take the love of his life to their special place so that he can propose.
We didn’t just give Precious Son a car yesterday, we gave him permission to become a grown up…
Dear God, please continue to prepare my heart for the day Precious Son leaves for college and adulthood. Please keep him in Your care and allow him to feel Your presence. I pray he seeks Your will and Your way. Please continue to guide and direct his father and I so that our words and deeds reflect Your love. This is my son, God, the very reason I exist. Please protect and keep him safe, happy, healthy, and in Your will. Amen.
Tuesday, August 3, 2010
Remember Her?
Has anyone thought of this…
What if the cancer comes back?
More chemo?
More radiation?
More surgeries?
More medicines?
More side effects?
More sickness?
More fatigue?
More nausea?
More burdens for my family and friends?
What if the cancer comes back and it’s worse?
What if it’s inoperable?
What if it has metastasized?
What if it comes back so fast that they just send me home?
I knew this guy one time who was very active in the church. He held several positions in the church and his entire family was looked upon as “church royalty”. The family was very well off and the kids attended private, Christian school. When they turned sixteen, the parents bought them new cars and their college educations were paid for. When people were sick or in need, they called this family to activate the prayer chain and the mission, whatever it was. They had been members of this church since before the first child was born and had helped build a solid foundation for the congregation for decades. Living exemplary lives and being the “perfect, Christian family”. Considering their status in the church and community along with their upscale neighborhood, it was obvious that God, Himself, had blessed them because they blessed God. (That's how we know who is good and who is bad, isn't it?? By how much God "blesses" them??)
There was a woman in the church who this guy did not like. She grated on his last nerve. He would smile and bear it and move on until the next time, but he simply could not stand her. She was diagnosed with some kind of cancer and then recovered and was doing quite well when it returned a couple of years later. In the meantime, she had been a church regular, as always, and was as active as she could be. She continued to bug the crap out of my friend. He just did not like her…at all.
The cancer returned and took a pretty hefty toll rather quickly. The cancer had metastasized and had moved into her brain. She grew very weak, very fast. The doctors were aggressive in their treatment for as long as it made sense, but eventually it stopped making sense and they just had to let nature take its course. She kept coming to church and my friend was always polite and courteous, never revealing his true feelings of dislike.
The day came when he took me aside and said, “I wish she would just go ahead and die.”
I don’t recall saying anything although I am sure I chuckled uncomfortably, because that’s what I do. I don’t really remember anything else about the conversation… There may not have been any more. I just don’t know. All I knew was that this man, this pillar of the church, was being shallow and hurtful and not very “Christian-like”.
I know full well not everyone likes me. It’s cool. I don’t like everybody. It all works out. Now, however, I wonder if I have changed my life in enough good ways that no one will wish that I “go ahead and die” if my cancer comes back. I can tell you one thing…I’m doing my best to not make you want to say that. It isn't that I have been a horrible person my whole life or anything like that, but I have been selfish and a tad passive-aggressive over the years. I'm just trying to be as good as I can be...and that wasn't always the case.
Don’t we just want to be loved while we are here and missed when we are gone? That’s pretty much what I have come up with.
More chemo?
More radiation?
More surgeries?
More medicines?
More side effects?
More sickness?
More fatigue?
More nausea?
More burdens for my family and friends?
What if the cancer comes back and it’s worse?
What if it’s inoperable?
What if it has metastasized?
What if it comes back so fast that they just send me home?
I knew this guy one time who was very active in the church. He held several positions in the church and his entire family was looked upon as “church royalty”. The family was very well off and the kids attended private, Christian school. When they turned sixteen, the parents bought them new cars and their college educations were paid for. When people were sick or in need, they called this family to activate the prayer chain and the mission, whatever it was. They had been members of this church since before the first child was born and had helped build a solid foundation for the congregation for decades. Living exemplary lives and being the “perfect, Christian family”. Considering their status in the church and community along with their upscale neighborhood, it was obvious that God, Himself, had blessed them because they blessed God. (That's how we know who is good and who is bad, isn't it?? By how much God "blesses" them??)
There was a woman in the church who this guy did not like. She grated on his last nerve. He would smile and bear it and move on until the next time, but he simply could not stand her. She was diagnosed with some kind of cancer and then recovered and was doing quite well when it returned a couple of years later. In the meantime, she had been a church regular, as always, and was as active as she could be. She continued to bug the crap out of my friend. He just did not like her…at all.
The cancer returned and took a pretty hefty toll rather quickly. The cancer had metastasized and had moved into her brain. She grew very weak, very fast. The doctors were aggressive in their treatment for as long as it made sense, but eventually it stopped making sense and they just had to let nature take its course. She kept coming to church and my friend was always polite and courteous, never revealing his true feelings of dislike.
The day came when he took me aside and said, “I wish she would just go ahead and die.”
I don’t recall saying anything although I am sure I chuckled uncomfortably, because that’s what I do. I don’t really remember anything else about the conversation… There may not have been any more. I just don’t know. All I knew was that this man, this pillar of the church, was being shallow and hurtful and not very “Christian-like”.
I know full well not everyone likes me. It’s cool. I don’t like everybody. It all works out. Now, however, I wonder if I have changed my life in enough good ways that no one will wish that I “go ahead and die” if my cancer comes back. I can tell you one thing…I’m doing my best to not make you want to say that. It isn't that I have been a horrible person my whole life or anything like that, but I have been selfish and a tad passive-aggressive over the years. I'm just trying to be as good as I can be...and that wasn't always the case.
Don’t we just want to be loved while we are here and missed when we are gone? That’s pretty much what I have come up with.
We want to leave smile lines, laugh lines, happy hearts full of memories... We want to be remembered. I know I have obsessed about this before. Now, you know it continues to consume me. Wasn't it Tom Petty who said "She was part of my heart...Now she's she's just a line on my face"? I don't want to be that line...I want to leave crows feet from laughing so hard, so often, that your eyes squinted as if you were blinded by the sun...gasping for air...rolling at something I said...something I said that you will never forget...
Yeah...those are the lines I want to leave.
Oh, well. Tom Petty never did anything for me after that Alice in Wonderland-esque video that gave me nightmares for weeks.
By the way, the woman died about two weeks after my friend said what he did.
He never mentioned her to me again…
I hope she was loved while she was here…
By the way, the woman died about two weeks after my friend said what he did.
He never mentioned her to me again…
I hope she was loved while she was here…
I hope I am missed when I am gone...because I know I am loved while I am here...not necessarily by everyone, but certainly by enough to make me wish it for everyone.
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