short note...middle of the night

We have been sleeping better but Regis had a restless period and I needed a drink of water so here I am. Gus likes to sleep on the bed some nights so we had his furry self to contend with, too. I decided to get out of bed to re-hydrate and write a little after my last meds.

Young Regis dropped off a bag of ice for us and was just in time for beef stew with dumplings. He stayed to eat stew and have a cookie at the end. Regis even made him a Manhattan for dessert. It had been a cold day in his truck with no heater.

Our Christmas meals this year are going to be a combination of catering and pot luck. I'm ordering ribs for Christmas Eve from Whiskey River (I hope), and bread and desserts from River Rock. Reg thought they could bring cheese potatoes. Voila. Tiffany and Eric are coming on Saturday night because they won't be here Christmas Eve. We're having a pizza buffet, a big green salad catered from River Rock and a Red Velvet Cake. Easiest menu ever.

Why do I wake up in the middle of the night thinking of this stuff? I think my mind goes numb when I think about the plethora of medication on my desk. Tomorrow, I can cut back on some of the nausea meds if I haven't experienced any...and I haven't.

Back to bed. Feel fingers slowing down.....back to sleep.

almost-solstice morning and still very dark

I do not know how people survive in the places where they have 24 hours of near darkness. Ack.

Yesterday, I went back to the cancer center for a shot of Neulasta^® (pegfilgrastim), a prescription medication used to reduce the risk of infection (initially marked by fever) in patients with some tumors receiving strong chemotherapy that decreases the number of infection-fighting white blood cells.

We ordered a pizza for dinner and watched the movie Scrooged. My policy has been that the phone and lights go off about 7 o'clock and we watch a silly Christmas movie. It's very relaxing.

Regis is in his recliner this morning and Gus is in his lap. It's their ritual. Gus lays his paw on the arm of the chair and Regis combs his ears while they watch the sun rise. It's a calm way to start the day for both of them.

I stopped at River Rock for a gingerbread latte yesterday and ran into my friend, Jill, by accident. I also gleaned many gentle hugs from the lovely baristas. We had a nice visit while Regis took Gus to the dog park. I heard about her Christmas plans, which are wild and include many small children, and advised her not to watch Christmas Vacation. Ha! She said it will be fun and I bet it will be.

I got a fun box of Christmas surprises from Mom in the mail...holiday socks, a candle, sweet smelling things, an insulated cup, and probably a thing or two I am forgetting. Thanks, Mom. Our neighbor, Julie, stopped by with a poinsettia later in the afternoon. All in all, a sweet day.

purple power port, chemical cocktail, chest wounds

Yesterday was my first chemotherapy treatment. I had all sorts of, so far, unfounded fears. The port install went just fine, although I thought they were a bit stingy with the Versed. I was looking forward to a long nap but I was barely in and out of wakefulness, no pain but awareness of them fiddling around with me, then fully awake as soon as they finished. I like to be less conscious than that.

I ordered breakfast which was waiting for me when I got back to my curtained cubby hole. The eggs were cold but I don't mind them that way and it all tasted great, not having eaten since the day before. The photo at the top was my destination: Chemo Chair #8, Andreas Cancer Center.

My chair hos lots of comforts: massage, heat, foot-rest, back recline, cup holder, and television remote. The nurses or volunteers will bring coffee, water, and pretty much your heart's desire. We packed a little bag lunch of peanut butter sandwiches, nuts, crackers, and dried fruit.

Regis sat with me most of the time as they hooked up bag after bag, I think there were 8. a bag of saline, a bag of antibiotic, a bag of anti-nausea stuff, then another, then a steroid to make the anti-nausea bag work better, then the real stuff. One of the real chemos (and you can tell them because the nurses suit up like they are approaching ET) came in a giant tube of red liquid. It makes your pee red for a couple days. TMI?

I had to pick up four prescriptions on the way home. Since they weren't ready, we dropped into Tav on the Ave for a glass of wine and some popcorn. I think that helped as much as anything.

So now, I'm dinged on both wings: the scar and potential swelling under my left arm, the stitches over my left breast, the hole up near my collar bone where they snaked the port tube in, and a  minor lump further down where the port is. Don told me they aren't purple anymore but clear, which is not nearly so much fun. I am pretty sure that all these owies will prevent me from doing household chores like dishes and cleaning.

I'm going to follow my friend, Jan's philosophy which is try very hard not to act like a sick person and to have fun every day. First...a short nap.

cards, soap, and an icy walk

I think I should make cookies. I put a turkey breast in the oven for dinner (and left-overs) and a small sweet thing would be nice at the end of the meal. Can a guy make cookies without dirtying any dishes? That's the part I hate.

I think my interest in Christmas baking peaked a few years ago and then went into a steep decline. I just looked at my Christmas binder (another story) but there isn't one thing there that interests me. Maybe we'll just make the old standard chocolate chip cookies. Or truffles. Truffles do interest me.

I had Regis drop me off downtown this morning so I could buy Christmas cards. I did a search and rescue in the basement yesterday, thinking I must have cards that I bought in some previous post-Christmas sale. No such luck. I did find, however, the mother of all stashes of holiday napkins. I love holiday napkins...obviously as I have eight packages ready for use.

I bought cards and this lovely box of soap at the Swedish Kontur. It's sitting on my desk in front of me and I pick it up from time to time and sniff it. Actually, I inhale deeply. It's so nice I may never use it.

Cards. I realize this is a multi-step process of which I may be incapable. I have the cards and that is the easy part. Additional steps: Stamp. Address. Write on card. Take to PO. Well, now that I wrote it down, it doesn't seem so daunting.

The hard part is that my fancy list of addresses that I had put on a spreadsheet disappeared in my last computer upgrade. I have managed to scavenge what I hope is most addresses and I might be able to scrounge some more from the web and FB. Uh oh...back to feeling like a daunting task.

The sidewalks downtown were an icy bitch. I walked like a penguin from one store to the next. It's the one thing I hate about Minnesota winters...walking like a damn penguin. For all my warm climate friends, this is it:



You walk like this so you don't fall down and crack your head. One winter a few years ago, I fell three times and Regis fell once. Most of those were on the same day.

I liked the comments on the last post from new cancer friends. Caroline suggested that the germ thing is a worthless battle and Karen suggested that she did the same thing and it was more about control than germs. I've never been overly concerned about germs as you can attest if you have been to my house. I am not a cleaner and if it weren't for Jan, we would live in a hovel. That could be an exaggeration for effect, a literary device of which I am fond.

I'd like to point out that I am not ending my sentences with prepositions today either.

Onward and upward.

sunday snowfall

I feel that nervous agitated energy I always feel before a trip. I feel like I have to get everything done today and tomorrow, forgetting that there will be stores and restaurants and Christmas cards after Tuesday. I cleaned up my office and threw out a ton of paper and magazine and catalogs...needing order and calm. I wiped everything down with antiseptic wipes. Not sure what that last part is about.

I'm listening to BB King's Christmas album and watching the snow fall. We're going out to the winery with some friends later to toast the first snowfall of the season.

bidding adieu to my hair

I decided to get rid of my hair in one fell swoop. As Ella says, "Who wants your hair falling out in chunks? That would be gross."  She is a philosophical one, that girl. Besides, her principal, Mr. Doherty, is bald and she thinks he looks good.

It was not traumatic. Regis studied up on how to do it and he cut it in three stages going from one attachment to the other as it got shorter. Emily wrote a poem called Hair? Who Cares? and read it before the clipping commenced.

The two ladies who were here, Emily and Ella, took me into the bathroom to have the first real look. It's startling at first but what the hell. It's only hair, and as the poem says, there are far more important things in life.

I was a bit disconcerted that after my head is shaved, we could only pick up a half a sandwich bag full of hair. That's all I had?

I told my cousin, Deb, today that I was nervous about getting my port installed and then having to travel through the halls from one medical facility to another through a public hallway and right past an entrance...in a blue gown She said: Wait. You are the person who posted a picture of herself on Facebook in a blue gown. Hilarious and true.

Since my company went home this morning, I have spent some time in my nest...in the bedroom with the drapes closed, the laptop playing the 1970 version of Scrooge with Albert Finney and a pile of detective novels on the bed. It's very serene and comforting. Regis is taking me to Dino's for pizza so I will have to get out of my pajamas. Next week, I'll go out. I promise.

Actually, I am only half in pajamas. My top half is hot because of the blankety-blank Ace bandage and my bottom half is cold. So I have leggings and socks on the bottom half. If the Ace wrap keeps the alien baby from returning, it's worth it.

If I had any gumption, I'd go do the dishes. But I don't.

all clothes must fit in bag

In my typical fashion, I am perseverating on the minutia of my cancer treatment. I have several lists and the one regarding what to wear and bring on Tuesday, starts with: All clothes must fit in bag.

If I go in full regalia, including hat, tall boots, socks, purse, pants and several sweaters...Regis ends up dragging all my crap everywhere he goes. If I am careful about what I wear and bring, it will all fit tidily into a bag and won't be such a nuisance. Someone suggested I get him a wheeled cart but that might be going too far.

I also have a list of food things to bring. I hate getting trapped places with no access to good food. They have coffee and other beverages there but I don't think much of their snack assortment which consists mostly of giant dry muffins that must be made in another state. I'm thinking small sandwiches, nuts, cheese, dark chocolate.

For those of you who might be interested in the scientific side to this, as opposed to the fashion and food side, I was randomly assigned to Arm 1 of the clinical trials. That means I will get:
Adriamycin every 14 days for 4 cycles
Cytoxan every 14 days for 4 cycles
Paclitaxel every 7 days for 12 weeks
Dexamethason before each Paclitaxel treatment. It's for nausea.

At the end of all of this, there will be radiation for some period of time. Then targeted hormone treatment that goes on for a long time. Maybe five years. Cross that bridge when we come to it.

I read back over my posts for the last few days and thought I must sound like I'm high on Zoloft or something. Believe me, it ain't all silver saddles and Sunday parades. Many days I am tired and bleary-eyed. I usually take a restorative interlude in the afternoon from noon to two o'clock. I don't always sleep but I do read and spend some time with my eyes closed. Some days, even after that, it doesn't take much to feel a kick in my sad pants, get my feelings hurt, or just succumb to ennui.

I will say that things are tipping in my favor for now. Far more good times than bad..far more. I am greatly humbled by the kindness of so many people, those I have known for a long time and some who I have only met through cancer. Maybe it's like most things in life, once you've been down the road, you recognize the signs and eagerly lend a hand or an ear.

Thanks to Mary for the morning coffee in her serene country home and the company of Handsome Bob. Thanks to Keith and Corrine for the chicken soup with homemade noodles and the ride to see the Christmas lights. Thanks to Joanne for the glass of wine and the hour in the sunny booth at Patrick's. Thanks to Jill for the quiet lunch in the shadows last week. We had our own little tucked away place to linger over chicken sandwiches and at that moment, it was just what I needed. Thanks to Laurie at Turban Diva for making me feel chic and cool instead of old and sick and for letting me tell my story. Thanks to Anders and Judie for the sweet dinner the other night. We know there is not a better way to spend a winter evening than with friends and Manhattans! Thanks to Karen who read my blog and wrote a note to tell me her own cancer journey and to share her mantra, believe.

Thanks to Regis, my sweet husband. He sits with me in clinic after clinic, he drives me to appointments, he makes me eggs when I'm hungry, he finds me books and music, he pastes my face on a Dancing with the Stars photo, and he takes care of me and Gus. He swears he will help me with this dragon.

That's a lot of nice things to happen in a few short weeks. I am lucky.

Here we are!

See? I could have been on Dancing with the Stars! What a hoot!

bidding adieu to the alien baby

I woke up yesterday feeling sad and agitated. Then my alien baby drain started to malfunction again. Every time I pressed on the drain site, I made a noise like a tire going flat. A high-pitched whistle under my arm. The bulb wouldn't maintain suction so I knew we were going to be making another trip to the clinic. Holy crap.

When I talked to the wound care nurse on the phone, I made the noise because I listen to Car Talk and it helps to diagnose the problem if you hear the noise. Callers are always imitating their car noises. Plus, it's entertaining.

Regis and Gus drove me over to the clinic. Gus always knows when you're feeling down and he stuck his big wet nose behind my head and gave my ear a lick.

I felt better the minute I got there. The people who take care of me in that clinic are so kind and caring. They took care of the drain in no time flat and I was on my way. Jan said when she heard the noise, she knew right away. See?

I took a nice nap in the early part of the afternoon. It's become my habit again to read and nap in the afternoon. It doesn't keep be from sleeping at night so I guess it's fine. Besides, what the hell.

Joanne picked me up about 4 and we went to sit in a sunny booth at Patrick's. Some days I like shadows but yesterday I needed sun. We lingered over a glass of wine, talking about our impending European vacations and Caribbean cruises. We both have the attitude that crap happens in life so you might as well expect it and try to have fun anyway.

I am the official Turban Diva of the Month. I have let Regis know that he can address me as Oh, Turban Diva for now. Maybe for the whole month. The picture at the top is one she used for the article. She ran it through some kind of process to eliminate a few wrinkles so if I look younger than you remember, that's why.

We met our old friend, Anders, and a new friend Judie at Whiskey River for dinner. It was a very sweet evening talking about our lovely Jan, books we love, good times in the past, and adventures to come. Interesting when you meet someone new, it doesn't take very long to discover common ground. Judy's dad taught at UND and she was born in Grand Forks. She loves detective stories so she and Anders are going to send a list of good books they recommend, even one by a Norwegian. Ha!

Regis had a dream last night that I was on Dancing with the Stars with Donny Osmond. Donny made disparaging remarks about my dancing so Regis had to kick his ass. That would have been something to see.

Note: It wasn't Donny who made the disparaging remarks, it was Simon. Donny was my dancing partner and Regis said we rocked.

alien baby runs amok and psycho light show

We had to make an unexpected run to the clinic today because my alien baby drain was malfunctioning. I thought they would have to pull it but bless Jan's heart, she saved the day. She told me she was in the Navy and had her own ship so I was not surprised that she could deal with a small drainage issue.

I forgot to post the photos of the lights. I'm not a fan of lights on large deciduous trees because you end with something that looks like this. I think this would have been better had we been on foot but alas, too lazy. We had a very nice with our hosts, however, and a delicious dinner at Neighbors.

Today I received an email from the lady who made my most recent scarf and turban purchases. She wondered if I would like to be the Turban Diva for December. Would I? Of course I would! She is using some of the photos and I had to send her my long tale of woe. What a hoot. I will post the link when it becomes available.

I've decided I like reading mysteries so if you have any to recommend, leave the title in a comment. I'm somewhere in the compendium of Arthur Conan Doyle's Sherlock Holmes stories which are very good...and which only cost four dollars on Amazon.

I made cookies today to take to a friend's mom who is in a swing bed in the local hospital. She needs to gain weight and the food in that place is not going to cut the mustard. We know this having fallen victim to it a time or two in the past months.

I think that's it from Crazy Town. We're tired and ready to go to bed. Regis with his sciatica and me with my alien baby. Ah, life is an adventure.

a weekend full of goodness

We have had the sweetest weekend. Lots of friends and little kids and a parade and a style show. How could it be any better than that?

In the mail Friday, I got two hat/scarf combos that I bought on Etsy. Ella and Emily came over for a wig and hat style show. I dragged out all my head costumery and we had a blast. Ella is quite the fashionista. The conversation over dinner was about a party we may throw next weekend to say good-bye to my hair. Ella is not the least bit concerned and knows it will grow back. Emily is bringing poems. Regis will supply the appropriate sound track. My friend, Deb, is coming to get her own head shaved. Haha! It will be a hoot.

Ella looks like a silent film star.

Gus had to be in the pictures, too.

Ella loves color!

The fedora look is good for her, too.

Ah, well. It's bound to be an adventure.

Ella and I decided that we wanted to be in the Fish House Parade this year. We didn't want to only watch it, we wanted to be in it. Too late to arrange a float or get a truck, we just wandered up to Third Street and joined the parade. You can do that in St. Peter. I picked up stray candy and Ella handed it back out to little kids in wagons and strollers who were too small to run for it. It was very sweet.

Tonight some friends are coming to take us to Sibley Park to see the holiday lights then out for some grab and a glass of wine. Nice way to end such a nice weekend.

today

Regis put on our first and favorite Christmas CD this morning. Christmas on the Moors which we always refer to as Christmas on the Moops.

I had coffee with Shannon and Gretchen at River Rock. I was running off at the mouth due to the alien baby related Percoset. They didn't seem to mind.

I went to the Pulse and walked on the treadmill and talked to Rachel about my exercise plan. Good to get that back in my routine.

I got a call from Judy. I will be in Arm 1 of the clinical trial, the one I was hoping to win. What the hell. If you can't win the Powerball why not win the chemo lottery. More drugs more often. What they call dose dense. We're good to go for the 11th.

Jill is picking me up at noon for lunch. We always have a lot to talk about and we're going to a favorite spot...low lights, friendly service, good food, only two televisions.

Ella is coming over tonight for our head gear style show.

It will be a fine day.

and the alien baby is delivered

I saw a couple of my doctors today and they examined my armpit alien baby and deemed it ready for delivery. I have never been so glad to have a doctor come at me with a couple big needles and a knife. They drained 100 ml out of that sucker in the first five minutes. The downside is that I'm back to dragging a drain around and I'm back to wearing the Ace bandage but it's still better than that alien baby.

I also signed the informed consent for the chemotherapy clinical trial. I bet that sucker kept a team of lawyers busy for a good long time. I only had to sign my name one time, eleven times less than I had to sign it to get an acupuncture treatment yesterday.

I'll get randomized tomorrow which is not nearly as interesting as it sounds. It means that they will put my number into the computer and I will be randomly assigned to Arm 1 or Arm 2 of the study. The arm determines the kind of drugs and the cycle, 14-day or 21-day.

Chemotherapy starts Tuesday, December 11th after the port installation. This involves Versed which is my favorite drug if I have to be sedated. My biggest worry about it is this: Will they dress me to transport me from one part of the hospital to the other or will I have to stumble down the hall in a blue gown dragging an IV pole?

Regis told me I need to travel light from now on so no boots. They get a little heavy to tote around a big hospital. I always worry about footwear it seems. I also worry about food and drink so I'll pack a little cooler. I hate to count on cafeteria food.

At first one of my fears was hair loss, but baldness lost its hold on me. (Sound like a bad country song?) I asked Regis today what he would think about shaving my head before my hair got a chance to fall out on its own.

I'm thinking of this as another fashion opportunity. Ella is coming over tomorrow to do the Head Gear Style Show. I dug out all my wigs, hats, scarves, and other sundry head coverings. We're going to try on a variety of things, Regis will take our pictures, and we can peruse the pictures and decide which look we like the best.

Well, that's enough about cancer. Sometimes it's hard to segue from that to another topic so I am going to sign off then start another post.

dreams of the weird

I had a dream last night that, in a six block run, involved an evil event, a houseful of guests for whom I had forgotten to prepare, uninvited guests in the attic, bowls full of wet cookies in the yard, a lost cellphone, and a lane on 169 full of drunk people with their lights off as I tried to navigate my way to the SPPD. This is about as much of a plot as my dreams get.

Regis had a dream the other night that I was wearing a Smearth Hat. When he first told me the dream, I thought he said Smurf Hat so I had quite a different impression. The Smearth Hat had an elastic strap under my chin and an opening in the top. Bubbles would fly out of the opening to land on surfaces around the house where they issued sarcastic comments and insults like, "Oh look, Uncle Alfred...if he had another brain it would be lonely." Eventually the bubbles would cease their insults and burst. I was the only one wearing the Smearth Hat. Of course.

alien baby

It was a long day, my friends, but much was accomplished. I am feeling much better this evening and hope that I am ready to go forward without holing up in the bedroom. At least for now.

I woke up this morning with a monster ugly swelling under my arm, right where the incision was made. It looked like an alien baby about to emerge so I called the clinic and told them to prepare for delivery. Then I had Regis wrap me up real tight so I didn't have to feel it.

On the way to the appointment, I told Emily the story. Alex says in this soft little voice from the back seat, "Nana, do you really have an alien baby at your house?"

No alien baby was delivered. No needles were used. No need to use the Ace bandage anymore, sweet relief. It will dissipate on its own says the doctor.

So, the upshot is that my treatments will probably start December 10th or thereabouts. I will be a part of the clinical study (no disadvantages and many advantages). I have a few appointments between now and then...port installation, blood work, and I can't remember what else. Very hard to keep track of all of this stuff. I wonder if my insurance company would pay for a secretary for me.

This is what the port looks like. It's called a Power Port, a title I like. The tube goes down into a vein near my heart so the medicine can be pumped in the right places. The purple part is about an inch across. I'll have a plastic card, a key chain tag, and a purple bracelet to identify that I belong to the Purple Power Port Club.

This is where it goes. The doctor makes a little incision in your skin and they tuck it underneath. The other part, the PowerLoc connects without making a hole. The medicine gets pumped in via the PowerLoc. This is a non-medical person describing a medical procedure. Ask to see my Purple Power Port!

It was quite disconcerting to listen to all the known and unknown side effects. It reminded me of a list I saw years ago of all the things aloe vera was supposed to cure... I wondered how it could cure diarrhea and constipation both. Same with this stuff. In the end...be careful of almost everything. Go in a zig-zag pattern when you trot down the sidewalk. Always look over your shoulder.

Regis and I stopped at a new place in Mankato on our way home. They have 42 televisions. I won't be going back there soon.

Well, here is the day brightener of the day. This is my Aunt Jean who lives in Washington...all dressed up for Halloween. She is going to be 90 so I say, here's to that! Great spirit, Aunt Jean!

little by little...coming out from under the cloud

I wrote the other day about feeling immobilized. I felt that way yesterday, too, in spite of having coffee with a lovely friend of mine. Her home is in the woods and I felt calm and peaceful going there to see her, but I came home and crawled back into bed.

I stopped at the coop to buy something for dinner and came home with the weirdest assortment of things. I made a lot of trips around that store, too, picking up chicken breasts then putting them back, picking up ham slices then putting them back. I should have had a list.

Mary sent a message later saying that after she had a game plan, she felt much more able to manage her disease. I think she's right about that. Friday, I expected to leave the clinic knowing something. When I only left with a fistful of more appointments, it was disappointing so I holed up for a few more days. I am optimistic that today will be better.

We had planned that Regis would stay home today as there was no point in him sitting for 6 hours while I just did appointment after appointment. He told me last night as we went to bed that he plans to take Gus to the Paw for the afternoon so he can join me. He wants to know what's going on and he wants to help me through it. Bless his heart.

I have done a ton of reading lately because when you lay in bed that much, you have to do something. I read both of Will Thomas' books, The Hellfire Conspiracy and Black Hand. Both easy reads but very good. Yesterday I started Love is a Mixtape by Rob Sheffield. Amanda, if you haven't read this book, I think you would love it.

Just got off the phone with Nancy. She has the same kind of cancer, the same oncologist, the same number of lymph nodes involved, and she was also 60 when diagnosed. She is dropping off a book and she gave me the name of a chiropractor for some additional care. I have an appointment tomorrow. That's a good sign.

a very large cloud of ennui has descended on us

We are not unhappy or discontented. We are listless and languid. The back of my neck is sweaty and my hair is flat. I think I've had three naps today although the last two count as only one since I didn't get out of bed between them. I finally decided to get vertical so I walked out to the living room where Regis had just assumed the nap position. Sigh.

It's only one o'clock and I've had three naps. I could take another one which I may disguise as reading.

This has been my favorite meal this weekend. I call it the Thanksgiving Parfait. I put a spoonful of apple pie in the bottom of the glass, then dollops of potatoes, stuffing, yams, and green bean casserole. Top with cranberry sauce. No heating. Easy to eat while slumped over in a napping position. Toss glass and spoon into trash when finished. No dishes!

I've been wrapped in a giant Ace bandage for four days. It makes me hot and cranky and is probably going to cause a yeast infection the size of Rhode Island. Its purpose is to compress my chest so that my body rids itself of fluid and I don't swell up like a giant grape cluster. It's hard to get the right amount of compression so you don't wake up unable to breathe or digest your food. Thanks for listening to my complaint.

I also have nerve issues on the back of my arm, namely that I can't feel the back of my arm. I am going to take special care not to get my arm wiggles near a fan because I could get mauled before I knew what hit me.

I go back to the doctor on Tuesday for a fleet of things which I don't recall but have written down. The nice lady who scheduled this for me was kind enough to write the names and times but I grabbed the paper and started noting the place, as well. It's easy to get confused. If I didn't think it would make me depressed, I would add up all the hours we have spent at doctor's appointments in the last nine months. It's a lot.

I think I have time to take one more nap before we go to wish Tom and Betty bon voyage. The are wintering in Texas again this year.

qualifying for a clinical trial by wearing a crown

Yesterday, I had an appointment with an oncologist. An oncologist. Regis and I joked that we were going to see an oinkologist...a specialist for people who really like bacon.

I don't think I had thought through, in my head, where I was going and why so this was a day of reckoning.

We walked in and there are posters for cancer support groups, brochures about wigs and scarves, and chemo chairs. What the hell. I thought it odd that the nurse asked about my appetite. I ran into Bonnie, a woman I used to work with...who has cancer...and no hair. Baldness could be my future.

The oncologist asked if I would be interested in being part of a clinical trial. It's a Level 3 trial where they decide based on patient outcomes, if this protocol should be the standard of care. He made it sound like a very exclusive club so I asked about the criteria to qualify. He said this and that, this and that but in my mind, you qualify by wearing ass kickin' boots to appointments, by photoshopping crowns onto your pictures, and by using fuck three times or more in a single paragraph.

I'm trying to find a balance between attention to all the details that this seems to require and a healthy sense of life goes on in spite of all this shit. I don't want breast cancer to be all I talk about or think about and I don't want pink to be the only color I wear!

Enough about that.

Regis and I are making a plan for the day. Make yours a good one!

the peace of morning

I love retirement because mornings are so peaceful. No rushing to get ready for work and planning the whole day before the sun even comes up. We sit in our chairs, dog at our feet, fireplace pumping out some heat, cups of coffee at hand. So much nicer to move gently into the day.

One of the things I gave up in the medical madness of the last few weeks is Thanksgiving dinner. We're still having it here but it's much modified from the affairs of the past. Regis has planned the whole meal with a little help from the binder. Tom, I even allowed Reddi-Whip on the grocery list. I don't care about the damn Reddi-Whip anyway. What I like is lots of people and lots of good food.

We'll have lots of help. Ella and Peter are coming Wednesday to help with cooking. Peter loves the cornbread and sausage dressing and said he would make it. Tiffany and Amber are coming early Thursday to help. We have paper plates and plastic forks. Side dishes will be cooked in aluminum throw-away containers. I plan to sit on the couch wearing my crown, holding a long-stemmed wine glass and dispensing advice.

You may have read that I have a lazy tumor. This did not surprise me at all. Any other kind of energetic tumor would have quickly been shunned by the rest of my cells and forced out through the nearest orifice. A lazy tumor could probably be tolerated. Easier to track down and decimate, too, which is a good thing.

I probably will have a host of scans to make sure we know about any cancer encampments outside the perimeter. PET scan, bone scan, CT scan...it will be like Star Trek. Pretty soon, I'll have as many medical reports as our old dog, Bert. He had every medical complication known to science. They would unroll the blood work report for me and I would start to laugh. I told the vet I raised two kids and never got that much information about their inner workings.

I haven't worked much in the past two weeks but I feel now like I can reboot my brain and possibly do a few things.I'm not sure if it's the meds, but I have had some difficulty thinking. Any more than a two-step process and I'm in trouble. I still seem able to put forth my daily does of drivel here, though, huh?

Ok. Getting my lazy butt up and finding some purpose.

i wrote this in my head but now it's gone...

Regis and I went over to meet with the surgeon this afternoon. He said the margins, between tumor and healthy tissue, are fine and there is no need for more surgery. The tumor is negative for HER2 and postivie for both hormone receptors. That means basically, I have a lazy tumor. I would expect as much. He said the oncologist will likely recommend (he may have said "offer") chemotherapy as well as radiation but it sounds much more positive than the picture I was getting on Friday when the PA made it sound horrible. He said no, it does not look horrible. He likes the oncologist I'll be seeing, he gave me his email address, and said I should come in anytime there is something I need to know or don't understand. He also cautioned me about reading things on the internet, something I have discovered on my own. I still have the drain but that should come out Wednesday.

Fireworks! Champagne! Celebrate!

waiting...for what I'm not sure

It's Monday and today we'll go meet with a surgeon and maybe with an oncologist. Maybe today this will turn into one of Regis' dreams, with a plot and characters, instead of being like one of my dreams, an amorphous blob that scares the shit out of me for unknown reasons.

I've gotten used to saying the word cancer although if I am caught off-guard, I say something else. Someone at the Pulse yesterday asked me if I was hurt because I was snoozing on the couch instead of exercising. No, I said, just lazy.

If we had implemented my idea where people have a small virtual projection over their heads telling you the information you need to know, then my problem would be solved. I thought of this once at the Mayo Clinic. I like to think of it as curiosity and not nosiness but it could be nosiness.

So, if people were curious...or nosy...they could read it in blue lights over my head. I have breast cancer. (It would probably also say I am a drama queen.)

Ella came over yesterday. She went to the Pulse together and we exercised for 30 seconds at a time on each and every machine they have there. When we came home, I took a nap and she played with Poppop. Later, she gave me a shoulder massage, a scalp massage, and then a hand and foot massage with lotion. She is an angel.

Emily came over later and we did our usual dinner and a movie. This week, we watched Dancing Outlaw for which there are not words to describe. You have to look it up for yourself.

The sink is full of dishes, I need a shower, and I have some other tasks to do this morning. One more cup of coffee, one more paragraph, one more minute of bliss.

the good, the bad, and the mundane

I was sitting at the table eating my lunch when I saw the pathology report. I had read through it with the PA on Friday but only about a tenth of it stuck with any meaning. Like a flock of little moths in the garden. Since it's three pages of mostly unintelligible medical lingo, I skimmed through it and tried to absorb some more of it today. The PA had highlighted a few things and written down a few notes but it only made sense in a general way. So, I started putting words into google. Words like metastatic. 

Words like metastatic crawl around the outside of my head if doesn't pertain to me. If it becomes personal, all of a sudden it's like a darning needle in my brain. Right in the ear.

Then I started looking up survival rates. Oh, holy shit. This is a concept of which I would rather not be aware.

I'm not reading anymore...at least until I see Dr. Deaconson and the med onc. That's what they call the oncologist...a med onc. I'm learning a whole new language and I think I would rather be learning Urdu. No, I know I would rather be learning Urdu. Whatever the hell Urdu is.

I took two naps today. Both right after my Percoset for pain and Benadryl for itching. It's like falling into a deep hole...I cannot keep my eyes open. Such a blissful sleep for such a shitty reason.

Friends came and took Gus for a two hour walk today. He came home filthy and exhausted so we call that walk a major success.

Last this afternoon, we met Nikki and Scott at the winery. We shared a couple pizzas, a bottle of wine, and some stories. It was a cozy evening by the fire and very good for my soul.

We stopped at River Rock for a couple cookies on the way home. The very sweet baristas hugged me and offered to do anything we needed done. Such nice people.

Regis and I are going to buy groceries in the morning. I usually am way over-prepared for Thanksgiving. I have a binder, I have to-do lists, I have the list of groceries, and I have the timeline. This year, Regis is in charge. We have a list on a piece of notebook paper and we have assigned our offspring to bring a variety of things. I am not worried about the food...I am only worried about the commotion. I may need a nap in the middle of it all.

So, there it is. The good, the bad, and the mundane. Your real life doesn't stop just because you're traveling through a shit storm of medical issues. The dog still needs a walk and a bath, you still need to buy groceries and do laundry, and somehow the dishes continue to accumulate in the sink. I guess the trick is to find things to make you laugh and friends to hug you. And once in a while, go bowling.

sigh

Regis and I met with the PA at my surgeon's office yesterday. I was irritated that they hadn't returned my phone call about the pathology results. Once she started talking, I could see why they hadn't. Poor Jan who talked to us must have drawn the short straw. There are three pages of medical lingo which the oncologist will explain but which means possibly more surgery, most likely chemotherapy, and for sure radiation.

They were not cells that escaped during the biopsy. They were cells that had deliberately gone there and set up camp. Angry cells, bent on destruction. About to send more troops out to distant locations. Scouts with orders to set up more camps. I could say something about catching them before that happened, but I have learned this about optimism: It only goes so far.

It was a stunning conversation. When the medical professional gets tears in her eyes and grips your hands, you know you're in for it even if you don't know what IT is yet.

I did wear my ass kickin' boots even when I wore the lovely blue gown. I'm staring at the ceiling. It would be a nice picture if I weren't posing like a damn corpse. The crown helps, of course. I had to take it off because it was hard to get the boots and the crown in the picture...not enough space in the exam room.

I'm trying to mold my attitude. Lots of people get this and lots of people are fine later. I feel lucky that they found it and I feel lucky that I have such competent folks taking care of me. I feel lucky that I have such good family and so many good friends to support me. Regis is a saint. He empties my drain, makes me eggs, and has offered to cook the Thanksgiving dinner.

I hope some day I'll look back on this and think, "God, what a drama queen!"

As we left the hospital yesterday, I told Regis I wanted to pretend like things are fine until next week. I wanted to dodge questions and avoid the subject and not write about it on my blog and on Facebook. By the time we sat down to lunch, I had changed my mind. Not realistic at all. I decided to just be honest about the uncertainty and about my fears. I think it was the best decision.

So, all in all, this sucks but not as bad as some things suck. Day by day, we have decided. Regis has two good knees that should stand him in good stead as he waits around for my appointments. We have good insurance. We live close to great medical care. We have kids and friends around to help us. We have good food, a cozy house, and a sweet dog. Today...my favorite day.

waiting becomes an art form

WTF.

The plan was for the doctor to call me BY Thursday with the results of the pathology tests. BY Thursday, not sometime after Thursday. I started carrying my phone everywhere I went at 7 am yesterday because you know, the minute you take a bath, the phone will ring. I carried that damn phone, in my hand, everywhere. I took a nap with the phone on my pillow and I ate my lunch with the phone right next to my plate.

At 2 pm, I called and talked to a nurse and asked her to remind my doctor's nurse and the PA that I am waiting for a call. Nothing. 

And you know how your mind goes right to the worst case scenario? You start thinking the cancer has spread everywhere, you have two weeks to live, and they're going to amputate both legs in the meantime.

Dramatic over-reaction? Maybe. Whiny and self-involved? No doubt.

I have great respect and affection for my surgeon. He is on vacation in California so I know I am not first on his list of priorities as he is most likely walking the beach and visiting wineries but I also know there is a special kind of hell for people who make a guy wait for medical news.

I have an appointment at 11 to have my alien embryo nursery removed so I will demand answers then. Harrumph.

Ah, hell. Finally, at 6 am, I realized that this monumental news (to me) is already written down somewhere. The waiting is over, really. It just hasn't gotten to my ears yet. I plan to relax. This is not good for my juju to be so upset. If they call to schedule my leg amputation, then I will worry.

oh, the sleep we take for granted

I know it's probably an anesthesia hangover and the effects of Percoset but I love the way I sleep now. It's like falling into clouds and there's nothing I can do to stop it. I have fallen asleep in the middle of conversations. I have dropped my book to my lap and fallen asleep with my glasses on. I sleep so hard that it takes me a while to wake and I am always confused about where I am. The end of the nap is a little disturbing but the rest is bliss.

Since I lurch from one nap to another, it's hard to remember what day it is.

This will end. Tomorrow, I go in to see the PA who will remove the drain. Have I written this before? I'll be glad to get that thing out of there. Alien embryos and all.

I read over my last few posts. I notice I repeated myself several times. I don't know if it was unintentional or if I thought I was using a sophisticated literary device.

Regis is off to therapy and I'm going to take a shower. I requested a trip to River Rock for a latte later this morning.

Here comes the sleep monster. I better either wake up or go to sleep as the median is not good. I'll post here when the doc calls with the news.

dreams and sucking out the bad stuff

I don't really know what kind of drugs I was on during surgery. I know they gave me Versed right before I was wheeled down the hall. Just a little something to take the edge off, I guess. It also does a good job of erasing the memories. I recall seeing the OR but then the lights go out. The next few days have been like this Van Gogh painting...lots of starry naps and dim memories.

I've been taking Percoset since I came home. It does a good job on the pain but today it created some nausea. It also makes me fall asleep in the middle of conversations which some people find disconcerting. I skipped my 2 o'clock dose but decided about 6 that a little nausea is worth the pain control. I am not a hero when it comes to pain. I don't even like a hint of pain.

This is an interesting part of my post-surgical experience. It's a suction drainage thing. The tube end disappears into my skin under my arm and is fastened there with a couple of Frankenstein stitches.It operates by suction...you squeeze the bulb flat and all the bad stuff gets slowly sucked out of me and into the bulb. The stuff that collects in the bulb end looks like watered-down blood and floating alien embryos. It's probably not something you want to see (or hear about) if it isn't hanging off of you but I like it. It looks like a lava lamp.

This is a lava lamp in case you are too young to remember them. The alien embryos are not this large in my personal lava lamp but you get the idea. Regis has to help me dump the contents every few hours because I can't see the point of origin. This is a wonderful invention because if I didn't have this...where would all that crap go?

Tomorrow my surgeon should call with the results of the pathology whatever you call it. They took the lymph nodes and are growing them or examining them or something. What they find will determine if I only need radiation or if I have to have chemo therapy. There's that therapy word that makes this sound so...innocuous.  I'm not fooled.

Every time I wake up from a nap, which by the way, is frequently. I had three naps today. Two were about two hours each and one was a little more than an hour. I've slept more in the past three days than I have in the past two months. I swear. Oh, yeah. Got distracted. Every time I wake up from a nap, I have to lie there for a long time thinking about where I am and what day it is.

That's it. Big day tomorrow. I'll keep in touch.

after I wake up but before the Percoset kicks in

Day two. I had a good night's sleep, waking only one time to take the Percoset and read for a while. Then back to sleep.

Percoset is a good drug for pain relief but it has a few side effects. It makes my brain fuzzy for about 3 of the  4 hours. By the last hour, the pain is creeping back in but my brain feels better.

Funny how my brain will distract me from the cancer shadows by thinking about my fashion look when admitted. By thinking about the Thanksgiving menu and especially the dessert. By thinking about how Percoset makes me itchy and hot. By wanting to review every detail from the last few days. Poor Regis is probably getting tired of telling the same stories because I either can't remember or I can't remember all the details and how it fits with something that came after. Something that came after.

I'm sitting in the office. It's dark and chilly outside and it's dark and chilly inside. I'm drinking coffee and thinking about to think about the real thing. I will get a phone call today or tomorrow. I know this happens to people all the time...they are left poised on the edge of the cliff, waiting for the rest of the news.

This cancer could be a thing that is just sitting there in one spot, not allowing cells to escape and ravage other parts near and far. Or it could be that the tumor has allowed cells to escape and make a run for it to other parts of my body,

Then I would have possibly more surgery, radiation, and chemotherapy. Adjuvant therapies they call them. All of these words I had no personal relationship with before last week. Now, I can spin off estrogen receptor, progesterone receptors, and markers.

I wish I didn't have a need to know these words. My vocabulary building exercises should come from a good book, not from a booklet handed me at the cancer center. I don't want to see any more drawings of breasts and lymph nodes. I don't want to know about this and that and the next thing. I don't want to think about a future that is unknown.

My surgeon, bless his heart, said his sense (valuable) is that it is early and there is no mad dash to deliver cancer packets to distant locales. I am hoping that all of his years of experience are  guiding him to the right path. No false hopes but no dismal prognosis either.

I took two tabs of Percoset forty minutes ago, hence my thoughts are a bit scrambled.

The nursing care at the Mayo System Hospital in Mankato was superb. They were all very kind and accommodating.

I struggled to remember their names while they were in the room. The primary nurse and the assistant nurse (?) always wrote names on the white board. That helped.

Speaking of the white board, I was remembering that white board at St. Mary's. The primary nurse would makes notes on it like: Teresa walked the hallway today! +++. I really liked the report card and reminded them a few times to jot down my medical milestones. I loved the +++'s and the smiley faces.

I'm going to take my fuzzy brain and go back to bed for a while.

musing the day after

I slept most of the last 24 hours. Good thing about the good drugs...they reduce pain and help with sleep. Bad thing about the good drugs...they mess with your memory. I introduced Tiffany and Peter to Eleanor three times.

I feel rested and ready to go home. There are some things to learn before they give me the boot, like the drainage business.

The food here has been fine. I ordered scrambled eggs for breakfast. There is a seemingly endless supply of coffee. Not great coffee but drinkable. I have had worse.

Everybody who comes through the door wants to know what else they can do for me. I suggested a cheese plate and a glass of wine but I couldn't get anyone to go for that. Harrumph. What kind of hospital is this anyway?

I haven't looked at the actual surgery site yet. The nurses peek from time to time and maybe I will look next time.

Round #1 is almost over. The pathology report will be back by Thursday and that will determine the course of action. I am resigned to radiation but I hope the conditions are right so I can dodge chemotherapy.

I like the language of illness. Surgery is called a procedure and treatments are called therapy. I know I heard other examples yesterday but today, I can't remember.

The nurses tell me I am a rock star patient. The fluid in my drain has improved in appearance and I am putting out grand amounts of fluorescent colored urine. That would be the radioactive stuff they injected into me. Not that any of this has been through my efforts so I am not bragging...just providing information.

Later...

Regis came to pick me up about 11. It took a while to get checked out so we didn't get home until 1. I went right into bed and slept for two hours. Thank you, Percoset.

Here's hoping for a good night's sleep.

Teresa in Recovery

I just spoke with Teresa's doctor. The surgery was more extensive than originally anticipated because of the positive results in the first node. They ended up taking 8 more nodes, I believe, which means there was more tissue disturbed under her arm and thus a longer recovery. The best case scenario is that in doing the original biopsy a cancer cell was dislodged and ended up in node #1, the natural filter. If this is the case it will be considered a false positive. They took the additional nodes because they can't take the chance that this was the case.
Now comes more waiting. Teresa won't know more until perhaps Thursday morning when the pathology comes back from the lab. When we know the tumor size, the hormone receptor types etc an Oncologist will make the determination as to further treatment. It will be radiation at a bare minimum perhaps followed up with chemo. Keep your fingers crossed.
Regis

Sent From My iPad

Teresa in surgery

Teresa has been in surgery for about 90 minutes now. The surgical nurse just called out to the waiting room to tell me that one of the 4 sentinel nodes that they removed came back from pathology as being positive. So there is more work to do and she will be at least another hour. Keep her in you thoughts.

Sent From My iPad

the hospital look

My hospital look is important to me. Regis rolls his eyes but I tell him you can't walk in there looking all downtrodden and mopey and shit. You have to look like you could be walking into a party. He suggested wearing bedroom slippers when I was at the part where I had to decide footwear. My turn for the eye-roll. I wear slippers to the Pulse some mornings but I do not wear them out of the house to other places. I suppose that would be acceptable...they're like moccasins...just not chic.

Like pajama pants. I have seen people actually wear those in the grocery store. Please. It doesn't take that much effort to put clothes on, people.

I've decided to wear my ass kickin' boots as a statement. I am sorry if someone has to tote them through the hospital because they are a handful but it's important to me. In the HyVee gift shop (which I love) yesterday, I bought a long, asymmetrical hooded vest with big pockets. It's very hipster. The only problem is that I would call the color taupe. What the hell is taupe anyway? Does a guy wear black or brown with taupe?

I am ready to go an hour early. That is a lesson from my dad.

Remember Regis is guest blogging today so do not be surprised by anything.

the whisk that found me

I think someone has been after me with the metaphysical whisk of life. Yesterday, I was busy all day but didn't seem to get much done but make a bigger mess. Today will be better. I have a long list of tasks for this weekend and the first job will be to write them down so I remember what they all are.

My sweet friend, Amber, gave me a bottle of Big Ass Cab for my birthday. Over the last few days, it has disappeared. What a nice red wine for a November evening. Cabernet, pumpkin candles, and my honey across the table from me. I am a lucky woman.

You can tell I have been brain scrambled as I didn't even post any Halloween photos. The party at Tom and Betty's was a blast, as parties at their home always are. Elliot and Alex are waiting to get trick or treating. Ella is probably playing with the puppies. Great ideas bringing puppies to a party with small children and adults who are imbibing. Ha! Jan is onto something. Could be like a Tupperware party only for finding homes for puppies.

I had lunch with my friend, Kris, last week at River Rock. As I turned to scan the deli case, I saw these amazing little darlings...local maple pots de creme. Perfect size and delicious. Good thing the glasses are small because there would have been some licking going on, let me tell you. Sweet little pleasures of life.

So, here is what I have spend a lot of time doing in the last week...organizing medical information. I am rarely sick and have had only two surgeries in my life so the prospect of this on Monday, and the paperwork, is daunting.

I've tried reading things but even the booklets they gave me or sent me are too overwhelming. I think I might take them with me so after surgery I'll be able to read about the specifics, although reading on morphine can be tricky.

Regis and I went to Mankato yesterday where I bought some things I will need and some things I won't need. Ah, retail therapy. I found a teal sweater at TJ Maxx that I could not resist. It's my new favorite color. 

I have been perseverating on some stupid details like my footwear for Monday. I told Regis that I am worrying about that kind of thing so I don't think about the rest. I checked the weather report for Monday...temps between 20 and 30. Brrr. But I don't want to wear boots because someone will have to tote them through the hallways of the hospital. But they are my ass kickin' boots and kind of important for my mental well-being. I am also worried about my hair. But...you can see where this is going.

My biggest problem the last week (ha!) has been that I can't remember who I told what and now that I'm writing this, I think I have even written this before dammit. Stop reading or tell me to stop talking if you have heard any or all of this before. Regis calls it the pall of idiocy.

Funny how when something occupies so much of your brain, you forget momentarily that other people have shit going on, too. Lots of it. Many of my friends are in pain or healing from their pain and that they take the time to think about me is gratifying. Have I always been so kind in the past? This is how we learn our lessons.

I've been awake since 3 am again. Not worrying, just stewing. It makes a guy look forward to sedation and anesthesia. Just a little something to take the edge off.

for updates

Regis will be posting here for me on Monday until I am able. For updates, because neither of us will be able to remember who likes email, who likes texts, and who is on Facebook, and who likes phone calls...so this is the universal landing pad for information. I still don't have a surgery time but they should be calling soon with that. You can sign up for email updates on this site. Check the sidebar to the right...past all the poems and pictures of me in wigs.

Thank you to everyone who has written called, posted encouraging words on Facebook, and sent big checks. Haha! Just kidding about that last one. I appreciate every funny, profane, and sympathetic message I have gotten from my friends and family. You all rock.

i've been let out of the cage

The first few days after the diagnosis of breast cancer, I was angry and terrified and sad. I went from thinking about dying to thinking about my first and worst fear, puking. We all see things differently and hey, throwing up is not my thing.

After talking to my doctor yesterday, I was almost giddy. He is so calm and reassuring and conveyed the sense that he was going to help me through this. It was liberating. I don't have to deal with alone! Here was this strong, handsome, professional man who is going to cut me up and put me back together. I felt great!

Today, I feel like I have been unleashed, let out of the cage. I have plans and lists to make. I'm not going to sit around all weepy and shit.

I read the most inspiring blog this morning, sent to me by a long-distance friend, Di Keller. I said I was ready to talk about "support" but this blog is amazing.

Back to the support thing for a minute. I wasn't ready for support, or to talk to most people, because it felt like that would make it too real. That would be like signing up for the club of which I did not want to be a member. I don't want to know about carcinoma, sentinel nodes, or estrogen receptors. Well, you know what? Whether I want to or not, here I am.

Ann Marie's blog, Stupid Dumb Breast Cancer, is raw. She posted pictures of herself after a double mastectomy. She uses the F bomb liberally and she wears pink stiletto heels...in the hospital.

This is another powerful blog by a strong woman. Here's a warning, though. This one does not end happily and the pictures, again, are stunning. I'm drawn more to blogs than medical sites.

They told me to bring comfortable clothes and slippers to the hospital but I think I'll wear my ass kickin' boots and some sparkle. I'm not even sure I own what they might consider comfortable clothes. Oh, yeah...I have some sweat pants but ugh, not in public. Gross.

Eff cancer. Yes...in all it's many putrid forms.

my doctor rocks

I had an appointment with Dr. Deaconson this morning. He's a saint and he rocks. He is so calm and reassuring and even though he was going to be on vacation next week, he is coming in Monday to do my surgery. He said his gestalt is that this is early and the outlook is good. He will do a lumpectomy with some exploration of the lymph nodes to see if it has traveled. I will have radiation because that will help ensure that cancer cells have not strayed from the one site and stirred up an unwanted ruckus. I''ll be in the hospital overnight if all goes well.

All the pre-op stuff is done.Chest x-ray, blood work, EKG, medical history. I don't know why I always feel compelled to confess to smoking for one day when I was in college. The PA said the statute of limitations has run out on that sin and I can erase it from my card. I feel so much better except that I have a headache and I'm tired.

I think I'm going out to sit in the sun.

“Tell me what it is you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?”- Mary Oliver

this one is not about the C word

I'm feeling much stronger and more peaceful this morning. I slept well, took Gus outside at 4:30 and I think the sun is going to shine today. All good signs!

Regis and I went out for dinner last night, seeking comfort food. He had a pot roast commercial and I had ribs. The pile of ribs was like a meat tornado. We'll be eating those for the next three days. We came home early, watched some Arrested Development, and went to bed. No election returns for us.

I was almost too nervous about the outcome to attend to it. I avoided the articles in the paper and I refused to think about the possibilities. Regis woke me in the middle of the night to tell me Obama had been re-elected so we don't have to move to Poland. Ha!

I'm on my way to River Rock to work which means I take photos, gab with people, and enjoy a latte while I stroll around. A good job, eh?

morning...and then afternoon

I was awake from 3 am to 6 am. I slept from 6 am to 8 am. Regis woke me up with the promise of coffee. I'm sitting here staring out the window. Then I slept again from 10-12. I woke up at noon, thinking it must be later than that. I don't believe it's good to sleep in little patches like this.

I talked to Jackie, a friend in Wyoming. She had a double mastectomy 13 years ago and is here to tell the story. I can't talk about it to everyone but I could talk to her.

I knew this would happen because it's my way. I am writing my way through this. Thoughts I cannot articulate in spoken words can be written.

Here's how you know that life goes on....bad shit keeps happening but we continue to celebrate that we are alive and for the most part, happy. This is my journey but other people are traveling their own paths at the same time. My brother Bruce attended the funeral for his little grandbaby, Piper, today. She died of SIDS last week. This is more manageable than that, I know.

In the mail yesterday...a lovely card and letter from one of my oldest friends. So good to read that again this morning. Linda and I made doll houses out of cardboard boxes when we were kids. We walked back and forth to each other's houses through the hedge. Her house fascinated me because it was quiet, unlike mine where four boys lived. I loved playing in her basement..it was like a refuge from the world.

I was doing some reading online about breast cancer but it's too complicated right now. I know so little and the range of possibilities is endless, or so it seems. I'll know a little more after I meet with the surgeon and I will know more after the surgery.

Ah, well. We'll get through it.

I am sorry for causing such a ruckus. I meant to keep this to myself until I had more details but it's just not how I roll.

Thanks to all my friends and family who have responded in my time of need with email, phone calls, comments here, prayers, positive energy, and cuss words. It all helps!

It's 6 am and now what?

I'm on my way to bed....again.

I don't know how to deal with this. Who do I tell and what do I tell them?

I don't want to be dramatic and scared and freaky but that's where I keep going. Scared, creeped out, dramatic. Freaky.

I imagine these feelings morph over the next few days.

What do I do until the meeting with the surgeon?

How do I keep moving?

rain and early morning

I can hear rain against the window. I am going to bed again.