Happy Holidays - Love - Peace - Joy

It's the holiday weekend, and of course, I'm working. With an empty nest and 24/7 football I'm available almost without question.  Getting ready for any day is more and more difficult as I need time to wake up, warm up, perk up and time to smooth out the aches and pains.  Once the gears are in motion this rig works pretty good. I surprise myself ,even, when I rise to the occasion and meet the physical demands of daily living. And so, this coming Christmas day I will wake early, not in anticipation of Santa's gifts, but to eagerly give that which has been bestowed upon me so generously. 

I am festive in my heart and wish love, peace and joy to all my family. 

This little Meerkat glows with delight this holiday as I think of you.

Elf Myself

I guess I have the jingle-berry blues.  The holidays are just another work day for me.  I have not dragged out the Christmas tree, I have not sorted through ornaments and table toppers, I have not untangled strings of lights or blown up a giant lawn-man or dressed Joey up as an reindeer.  No I haven't, but I did do this:

Trying my best to conjure up the holiday spirit I decided to heed to the call of happy co-workers and participate in the Tacky Holiday sweater contest.  Sweater less and not willing to fork out the dollars for a real tacky sweater (that I'd wear just this once - I'm getting too practical) I kept an open mind and wandering eye out for a suitable (and this is a pun) alternative.  Something that said "yeah, I'm jolly - a little". 

The contest was arranged by our managers and was to take place at the Administrative offices at our monthly leadership meeting.  CEO, Directors etc. etc.....  I had to be part of the team.  What I didn't know (this always happens to me) the contest was moved to another meeting. I did not get this message. I did, however, receive a lovely poster of a thin gentleman wearing a tacky holiday sweater announcing the (incorrect) date of this happy event. The event was still posted to my electronic calendar in GMail and I received a prompt reminder via the Internet.  You see, I'm the only manager who doesn't work/live within a 10 mile radios of Administration.  I'm in another county, another world as far as most are concerned.  Soooo Ooops!

Meanwhile while secret squirrel was rearranging plans I was busy looking for my Alternative Tacky Sweater. It came to me during a quick trip to (yes, you guessed it, WalMart) to pick up some special ointments and creams for my clients. There it was, in the men's department - the only one, size LARGE. YES! and it's only $5.  It's mine. 

So the morning preparation included donning my healed black ankle boots, a pair of black Vera Wang ski slacks and my Giant T-Shirt painted like a Santa suit - Red with white trim, painted black belt and huge gold buckle at my middle. In small festive Holiday typeface were the words  "does this suit make me look fat?"  I added a little bling - necklace of tiny tree lights and a Gold Reindeer pendant.  Didn't have a hat. I looked cute.

On the road my cell phone beckoned me.  I knew I had to answer it at this time of day, it had to be work related.  So I pulled off the freeway and into a parking lot and received the dreaded voice mail message from my boss.  "The State Licensing Board is going to be at your (work) house in 30 minutes".  All the way from Salem, the critical three were enjoying their morning coffee while I panicked and turned my vehicle around and headed south to my work residence.   My first state inspection. 

I had just enough time before they arrived to do a my own quick whirlwind inspection, picking up wet towels, wiping off a counter, inspect the medication charts and cabinet.  Saw that my clients were awake, fed and dressed, the place looked fantastic!!         DING DONG

So there I was, in my Santa Elf-like outfit greeting the licensing crew.  I decided to make the best of it and swung the door open wide with a big "Welcome" and a wide sweeping hand gesture  I beckoned them in.  I set them up with a nice folding table (with  holiday table cloth, I might add) and served them hot cocoa in my office and left them to do what they do.  A Jamaica Christmas CD on the the stereo.  One client and  I busied ourselves making holiday greeting cards while the family of another client played kickball in the front entry way.  Client 3 laughed at the Christmas tree lights and played with her toy instruments. Staff were busy folding laundry, making breakfast and doing what they do.  It was a very merry place. I decided to not explain myself and just let it (my outfit) be.

Three hours later the crew left.  They were pleased, happy and full of hot cocoa.  Not only did I pass licensing, I was given high praise and complimented on my organization and solid paperwork, attention to detail and compliance. This is a rare thing.  My boss and Behavior Specialist arrived just in time to hear the compliments.  The state had no questions for them - which is unusual. They marched out eager to get on the road home. 

Later that day an organization wide Email announced that my house not only passed inspection it had exceeded all expectations and the state never before had such a pleasant experience. 

This little Elf is in the holiday spirit. 

Never a waitress when you need one

This morning I'm still recovering from the flu.  Bad flu. Bad.  It came on slowly Thanksgiving morning. I felt a dryness and scratch at the back of my throat.  Hmmm.  Did I sneeze a lot yesterday? I had my flu shot and felt I could work through this thing with little problem.  BUT NO, post dinner and pre-pumpkin pie I was down like a rock. As hostess I tried to socialize with Jackie while laying on the couch, rubbing my forehead and rattling-on like a crazy person. I fear I exposed everyone at the table and feel just horrible. I've had very little sleep.  My ribcage is tender and I have to pause with each step while coughing up a lung. If I don't get better by tomorrow I will plant my butt in the cold waiting room chairs at the doctor's office. Just what I need, another doctor visit.  I never know what to take for the flu.  I never get any real relief from the over-the-counter remedies. It's all too complicated.  So many to choose from, and me with a headache and trying desperately not to sneeze, cough and dribble all over the other customers.  Last week I was indignant when a woman approached the counter where I was enjoying a cool glass of water while waiting for my lunch and she started coughing all over my glass. She said it didn't matter, she didn't have a cold or anything.  I glared at her, got up and moved to another seat, to Tom's amusement. I think the bartender thought "I" was the jerk.  He had a waitress follow her to her table to assure she was okay. What  I need is a waitress. Serve me hot lemon water and extra strength Tylenol.

Gobble gobble gobble.......treat

 

Headliner: Annie and the Three Little Girls

 This morning I wonder what I did yesterday. This little memory lapse makes my husband more interesting. If I can't remember yesterday I can't be bored with today. Turning 59 was very uneventful, I think. I could have partied all night long, I don't know. I do know that I'm pleased as punch to be here and am looking forward to many more uneventful birthdays. My dementia doesn't scare me.  I pass it off as Chemo-Brain but know it's just lazy brain. If I really work hard I can conjure up memories and even invent a few. I've actually had to suppress a few made up ones. I understand, now, how mom got all her degrees, traveled the world and met so many interesting people. I fancied I was a rock star in my past life, or maybe a night club singer, before my memory challenged my memories. Looking back, yeah, there I am, singing along to the car radio, the taste of exhaust in my mouth, road dirt billowing in through the back window, my posse' of three lovely young ladies joining me in song. Eyes full of tears as the fumes blinded us on I-5 - headed towards any new destination. We were rock stars, survivors of the late sixties "Annie and the three little girls". 

Big green bags - not just for yard clippings anymore.

So many little things. Papers, paperclips, pennies, gum wrappers, notebooks, hairpins, birthday cards, key chains, socks, fanny packs, paycheck stubs, invoices, work notes, phone numbers and business cards, pens, lip gloss, safety pins, post its, gloves, plastic flowers, fun-run T-shirts, belts, wallets, receipts, warranties,  cassett tapes, envelopes, old bills, earrings, beads, pain relievers, hand warmers, rocks, comb, quarters, doo-dads, thing-a-majig, this and that.  What am I doing with all this crazy stuff?

Maybe it's because it's my birthday tomorrow or because I'm feeling better. Perhaps I'm just tired of moving this stuff around or because I can't find Tom's birth certificate. It could be the time change. I know I just don't know why this stuff is in my drawers,stacked in closet, spilling out of tupperware in my garage.OUT!GET OUT!  Purge, dump, and recycle.  Old shoes, short skirts, silk blouses and felt hats.  Weird shoes, where did these shoes come from?  I bought these shoes?  What was I thinking?  I brought all this stuff into my home. It's all going. 

Another appointment

I'm a real regular now. I have a gold pass to all the finest medical facilities. Gone are the days of obscurity, where I had to actually introduce myself to the receptionist, RNs and medical technicians.  I miss those days. Today is yet another appointment with the oncologist. Follow up to the follow up. The focus on my left breast brings tears to my eyes as I examine myself in the mirror. Couldn't I just have it removed too?  Wouldn't that be simpler than all these follow up exams, xrays, poking and prodding? I rather like the idea of toting two travel breast that can be removed at the end of the day, put to bed in their twin slings while I get a good night sleep.   Surgery?  Well, maybe not.

Shoulder pain and numb fingers prevail. I'm not wrapping anymore, it really seems to make things worse. I do my massage daily and it helps. Depending on my physical exertion of the day my discomfort rises and falls on the meter.

Happy Halloween!!

Inner-Space Junk

Six month check up, again. The receptionist didn't hassle me about "only the left breast" this time.  I believe she had other complaints, and after all , this IS breast cancer awareness month.  Someone must of clunked her upside her head. I was welcomed with  "any changes?" instead. I assumed she meant personal information and/or insurance and shook my head and sat down. For the third time I picked up the BHG magazine and read the same light dinner recipes taking mental note of the ingredients, measurements and oven temperatures, knowing I could do this without ripping out the page.  Good information, I tell myself. For the life of me I can't remember what the recipes was for. Something light.

My name is called and I'm instructed to wipe this, hang that, wear this, sit and wait.  My new dilema Where (or how) to place my breast? I can't hang the bra on the hook and the little wall shelf isn't wide enough.   I fold my bra neatly, one cup inside the other creating a little Pope Hat. I sit in my chair behind the curtain, hands folded with my breast on my lap like a Catholic girl waiting for confession. My name is called. The Pope hat is transfered to the chair. I smooth out the wrinkles and there it sat. Neat. Waiting. A small plush Breast Cancer Awareness icon.

Time to step up to the plate. After about 6 angles I'm instructed to return to my curtained waiting room but  to not get dressed "just yet". How could one little breast create such a stir? I didn't know I had that many angles. I'm called back into the room. Just 2 more pictures. I smile, I'm polite, I'm scared. I'm told there is something of interest (oh Geeze, here we go again). The doctor is looking at the film, he wants some more angles.  Well I could stand on my head, I'm thinking. The film is taken. I return to my chair - as I draw the curtain, there is my little breast. Waiting patiently.  I decide not to panic and emulate that little icon. The clinician returns.  "They" want a sonogram. And I wait again.

Everyone is all smiles. I get the feeling this is a practiced response. I imagine  the staff have a silent alarm that singles "We have a potential runner here, everyone smile, be happy".  All heads are turned toward me, they smile, nod approvingly and go on with their business. Heads down their eyes follow me as I am escorted to the sonogram room. There I recognize the technition.  She was pregnant the last time we met. She greeted my like an old friend.  The process wasn't as simple as it should have been.  She was having difficulty finding the area of interest.  It kept moving, or something.  Pressing deeper into my flesh she was sure it was there somewhere. " Ahh... see, there it is.  See that shadow?" My heart sank. Yep, I see a dark blur, some grey and white, stuff moving a bit. I didn't have a clue as to what I was seeing, but it was non the less scary.

Satisfied the tech instructed me to get comfortable, but "don't get up".  OH, they have my blouse and my breast, I can't leave.  Comfortable? I kicked off my shoes, curled up in fetal position, tempted to suck my thumb. I've been here for over an hour. The great invisable wizard  is checking my film, examining my video, looking deep into my very being. How would you like THAT job?  Cheerfully the tech returns and explains that everyone agrees that this is probably the "markers" that were placed inside me during my last visit and some scar tissue from the biopsy.  Soooo... man made, like space junk.

I get dressed, exit the back door and run to my car.  While at work a voice message on my phone tells me to call my oncologist.  Holy Smokes!! I think.  It's too late and the office is closed for the day.  I have to wait until morning to connect with the oncology nurse.  Tom and I slept fretfully. I called first thing in the morning and after a few transfers was told that . . . . . "oh, yes, it says here that everything looks fine".

It's breast cancer awareness month - - - Oh, I'm aware, alright!

Spiderwebs engulf the doorway. Wispy tendrils glisten in the early morning sunlight. I know they are there, they were there last week when I vacuumed them away.  It's fall. Tiny and not so tiny eight legged creatures toil throughout the night, hammock the corners and baton down the door jambs. Ceiling hangers recoil with the first pull on  invisible threads.  Their only defense against the powerful sucking probe is to hide and rebuild when all is clear. A creature of another sort seeks refuge behind major appliances.  Joey is attentive and waits. All eyes and ears, tail curled head low. An unfortunate and certain outcome, for sure. Blue Jays, Doves, Quail and small song birds jockey for a spot at the bird feeder. Our adopted family is getting fat. More seeds, please.  A Woodpecker visits and plucks juicy yellow jackets from the sappy wooden joists. Its fall,  can you believe it?  It's a beautiful day - webs can wait, they aren't going anywhere.

I-Reflect

Very sad news about Steve Jobs.  He truly changed all our lives.  I remember our first MAC in the HOUSE.  It was clumsy and fun.  Bailey grew up with a computer in the living room.  She played Oregon Trail, learned the piano keyboard, numbers, letters, everything right there!!  And the "MOUSE" what a concept!!  Can you believe it? Tom would spend hours "de-fracting" whatever that means.  I only  got hooked on one game, MYST.

I understand the I-Phone 5 will have voice recognition software so all you have to do is talk to it, it does the rest.  You can say "what is the meaning of life?" and it will tell you. It's interesting how the gadgets of our past imagination (Captain Kirk's communicator) seem to pale in comparison.  

The I-Pad is seen in doctors offices, my Physical Therapist used it to demonstrate how the lymph system worked.  It's quite amazing all the applications.  I-Appreciate.

Thank you universe for allowing this bright star to shine and enlighten our world.  I-Amazed

Jackie's Knee

Hey Jackie!!  Good luck today with your knee procedure.  I hope this is the solution you have been waiting for.   Let me know if you (k)need anything. 

LOVE!

It's been awhile

Still working too much.  I've compromised and am going in later.  Love the mornings at home.  I can actually make up my bed before going to work.  Nice. 

FYI: I'm working on a new page that will be for family photos only. I hope to set it up this weekend, and give you all permissions to add your photos.  It will be linked to this blog - so no worries about going to another location.  My goal is to post SLIDESHOWS instead of just pages and pages of photos. 

Will BLOG this weekend.  Love you, miss you.  Happy Birthday to everyone (I know I missed them all).
Got my mammogram Monday - All is well, and that's another story.

Squeaky

Treat

We're Coming - ready or not!

Fish and Tits

Jamie, I'm not . . . .

But don't you just love her hair?  It's funny this photo was titled "Jamie Lee Curtis-old".  Well I never!!  My new doo is more like this, just don't have the jaw (or the body, tan, fame, etc).

Dustin looks much better . . . but I love my curls

It's time for my second hair cut.  I'm still afraid of loosing my curls.  The longer it gets, the curlier-well in the back, the front is looking kinda saggy. I haven't brushed or combed my hair in MONTHS. Just wash, finger comb and go. I'm told this is "normal".  What's so normal about it?

What do you get when you cross a Bee with a Dog?

Watch out - the Bees are coming.  The ugly truth about bees - they are after your dog.  Please keep the breeds pure - Don't let this happen to your dog.

Slip Sliding Away

Waiting for the thunder clap, the white bolt piercing the sky. Sipping wine on the deck while dark billowy clouds march forward. Summer rain. My tomatoes are ripening and the strawberries are rotting on the vine. I can't pick them fast enough. The Blue Jays left but our squirrel family venture onto the deck exiting only when cheeks reach maximum capacity. New zucinnis look like alien pods, tiny bell peppers weigh down their branches and dill battle the local spider.

"You should see my doctor!"

Imagine Billy Crystal saying it like a nice Jewish lady.

I have a new complaint.  Just a minor BURNING in my fingers, EVERYDAY numb hands and tingling toe tips.  Glory-Bee.  Forget about the arm bandaging. It's too hot and quite frankly it feels like Voodoo. I do my stretches - they are very much like torture.  Gotta rip the scar tissue from it's foothold and loosen it up.  Gotta pull the muscles to the point of agonizing pain and burn.  The nice doctor says I'm good for a few months.  See you later, I say.  But what about the numbing and burning?  Oh, that's something else.  Get some exercise, loose a few pounds.  Stretch. 

Wispy little massage.  I need the real thing.

==============
Happy Fourth of July!!!

Athans Holiday

Can't afford a Roman Holiday - the society of medical providers have their hand in my pocket book.  But I live in such a beautiful place and I can travel on line.  Thank goodness there isn't smell-o-vision.  Did a day trip to Grants  Pass for Sushi and drove the Applegate to pick up my summer wine club release.  My beautiful day started at the sample counters at COSTCO.  Just traveling the world of tasty cheeses, sausages and tri-tip beef.  Can't beat the hors'devours in fluted paper cups served by post menopausal blue hairs hawking their wares extracted from well traveled microwaves and steamers.  The congested aisles of over sized shopping carts remind me of city traffic, minus the round-a-bout.

I'm having a problem explaining my wrapped hand/arm. When people ask what happened I hesitate and see the "Ooops" in their eyes.  I try to pass it off with a quick explanation, but sometimes get sucked in to a prolonged empathetic story about a friend, a family member . . . or a "I've never seen anything like this".

Tommy and I tried coming up with a clever response - he kept coming up with "I got bit by a (insert weird animal here). I just tell them, it doesn't hurt, it's just a lymphedema compression bandage. That is usually followed by a pause and a "Oh" . The darn thing keeps creeping down my arm and is D R I V I N G   M E
C R A Z Y . 

Talk about clumsy, try using chop stick with the Michelin Man Hand.

Therapy Session

I love my sisters. I like sharing my stuff. But remember it's just stuff.  My healing and coping comes from my sharing.,  I am other-wise healthy and sound.  My journey isn't unique - that's sad, isn't it?  This journal is just like a therapy session. I have the most wonderful, compassionate and effective therapists.  You guys give me everything. I still worry my old worries, I still get a kick out of stupid-silly, I still enjoy watching the sparrows aerial ballet just off the deck-while Joey purrs. My life is good.  I'm not unhappy. I'm happy. Sometimes impatient, annoyed, and a little bit obnoxious (yes, I know I am), but GEEZE I am doing well. I like working, I like working hard and having a problems to solve. No one needs to worry for me, feel sorry for me, or feel less than supportive just because of distance.  You are all with me.  Thank  you. I am the luckiest person, I have you.  We are all lucky. We have each other. If I have learned anything from this journey it's that I have not listened enough.
This is my purge place - shake it off spot -  get over it and get on blog.

Would you like to share?

PS Pat.  A weight problem? Really? Share. Any panty antics?    Love Love Love

Geeze, I thought I was done

As I sit here and reflect on the past year, I realize how naive I was.  I really thought it would be "over" at some point. NOT!

I am now positive for Lymphedema - swelling in my limb. I will have this risk for the rest of my life. It is chronic and annoying. I have a "pressure point" in the palm of my right hand that feels like I have been pressing down on a nail head all day. My Index finger is swollen and hard - I have fibrosis (hardening) of the finger. This is caused by protein enriched fluid pooling in my finger.  Why? because  some of my lymph nodes have been removed which pump the fluid out and away from the limb.  The back of my hand is visibly swollen - the skin stretched taught. My axillary (armpit) is swollen and tender - the tuck 'n roll is puffy.

I am being treated. But it won't go away.  I have a wonderful team of women (no salamanders) who have experienced first hand breast cancer, mastectomy and lymphedema. Yeah!

So the treatment is making me crazy!!!  I have to wrap (a very specialized process) my fingers, hand and arm every night while in treatment. It's super crazy and frustrating. But it works. Then I wear a (temporary) compresion sleave during the day. All in preparation of being sized and fitted for my very own compression sleave and possible glove. Goody! Michael Jackson impression. 

I will tell my tale of wrapping woes later.  I'm not exactly the most patient person in the world (Boy is that an understatement) and this has been like going back to school - something I've never been very good at.

Blog problems

Guess some of you are having problems logging in.   I had some problems the other day.  So we should communicate about the WP via Email. 

I checked my pocket book and looked under the cushions, just can't come up with enough change to make the trip to Southern California.  So I propose we do a Skype-Type / New Age Woodpecker. It could be fun. Jackie and I can sit on the deck, So Cal girls by the pool, East Coasters in your favorite spot, or if you can wing it, come on out (either spot).  What-do you think? 

High Tech and penny shy in Phoenix.
Annie

Me and my tattoo

I was reminded in my dream that I have a Tattoo. It's small, it's inconspicuous and will always serve as a reminder of  the women who have kept silent and endured breast cancer treatment.  In it's tiny existence it comes to me in my dreams, poking fun at me, urging me to speak.  A coworker asked me to speak to a daughter, another to a sister, and another to a friend. These women have fears. Fear of death, fear of inconveniencing others, fear they will lose the love of husbands and lovers, fear they won't be pretty anymore, fear of burdening family finances, fear that friends won't know how to communicate with them anymore, fear of being pitied. And I'm sure there are a whole host of other fears.

When I was first diagnosed I had several women reach out to me.  One, a breast cancer survivor of 25 years, came to my place of work just to hug me.  I didn't know how to respond.  I see the ladies in pink and just can't join the ranks of the walkers and the T-shirt wearers, the ribbon pin wearing soldiers. Yet I understand that works for them - they are the cheer leaders, there is comfort in numbers.  One reaches out with a solitary hug, others walk for the cause, some are just there for you when you need a PB&J or leave a home cooked meal in your refrigerator knowing when the world is too exhausting. 

It's been a year now.  When do I start counting my years in terms of survival? What is my anniversary date, initiated by which event?  Or are there several?

Survival. What a concept. In my dreams I remember I have a tattoo.  An indelible dot documenting my endurance.

Just can't wave like I used to.

My last visit with Dr.K-Hair I complained about the anesthesiologist.  With big sad eyes he nodded and shook his head, "yeah, these guys get a little desensitized, I will talk to them".  He did.  I had the bandages and few stitches removed this week, I am now officially done with that part. Doc wants to see me again (gee, I'm flattered) and is very concerned about some deep vein thrombosis in my right arm.  I have swelling in my hand and upper arm.  Cute, especially when I wave. I start (again) lymphedema therapy next week.  Fun, get to have some stranger apply whispery soft "compression" an my arm and chest.,coach me on the lymph system (how many times do I have to hear this?) and prescribe exercises that I already do. However, and Jackie can attest to this, I'll have to deal with it for the rest of my life.  May as well accept that fact.
I also have to get used to the idea that my chest is scary, ugly gross.  It's so severe. I still have tightness in my shoulder and underarm as a result of the radiation.  The skin still wants to "shrink" and remains discolored and rough. The scar is healing well - for the second time. Rough, scaly, itchy dry and tingly. I'm not to wear anything (bra like) tight right now until I return to see the Doc in 3 weeks. So hear I am, again, one loose breast in motion under loose clothes - cute, especially when I wave.  Truth is, I don't wave very often.

Let's not EVEN talk about my new Tuck 'N Roll package.

Let's pick a day - a place

I like So.Cal Idea for WP - but offer up So.OR as an option.

DATE:  8/13/11

VOTE

When dogs fly

The days weather has me pulling weeds, potting herbs and watching the clouds. We've taken to feeding the local Jays, Doves and occasional squirrel.  The Jays are active, loud and brave.  Today I was in my dinning room, working on my computer when something caught my attention.  I looked up, nothing.  I figured Joey had just walk through.  A few minutes later I glimpse a shadow.  To my surprise  a large Blue Jay was perched on the first stair step looking right at me. I called to Tom "hey there's a bird in the house". The Jay responded before Tom.  He hopped down to the floor and took a step towards me.  I pointed to the back door.  I asked "Rudy? if that is you, go outside".  The Jay took wing, flying low to the ground right out the back door.  Once out he perched on the deck rail and squawked at me.  He did not leave.  He jumped over to the bird feeder and dug his beek into the mountain of sunflower seeds.  He came up with one seed and tossed it to the ground, hopped down, peeled back the hard black shell and left the meaty insides (I think, for me).  He hopped into the Sycamore tree and watched me carefully while I examined the seed and kicked it off the deck.  I turned and went inside.  The Jay jumped back to the railing.  There he sits, watching and waiting. Fat, squat Rudy-like. 

Medical Update, again.

Whew! When will this be over? Never, I suspect.  I can't keep writing about how sore I am, how miserable I am, how down right pissed off I am.  I am. This visit to the hospital was a little different.  Tom dropped me off and returned to work.  The hospital is beautiful. It's a place I'd like to go to just sit and sip coffee and read the paper. This adventure began with confirming my name.  I've been going by Vada - this keeps my communications separate from work and family. It's also whats on my ID. Don't want to confuse anyone.  So this morning the volunteer insisted my name was Anne.  I said, "Vada". She said "Oh well it says here your name is Ann, She put down Anne."  I shrugged, not knowing who "she" was, but chose not to argue but then said, "Vada", Vada Anne". Well, we're off to a good start. I followed Miss in Pink, in her nylon smock through the double doors, down the hall and to a private pre-op room. It was nice.  New slip resistant socks (a big hit among the elderly-why are they always such ugly colors?), backless smock, warm blanket, electric leg warmers (for those pesty blood clots) and IV fluids, Yum.  I had a CNA, LPN, RN, Technician and floor monitor checking me every 10 minutes.  Checked in at 7:45am - Surgery at 9:15am.  I was wheeled, and wheeled and wheeled and wheeled  so far from my original location I had to ask the orderly if he was taking me to the parking garage.  Just as I did he POPPED two big doors and I entered the surgery theater.  Younng men introduced themselves and got busy with tasks at hand.  The  anaesthesiologist stole my pillow from under my head and said, "If you want your pillow you'll need to crawl over to this table". I hesitated . . . Did he just tell me to crawl over to the operating table?  He did!!  So I scooted my bare butt over into the waiting arms of a nurse/attendant who tugged on the sheet causing me to roll like a sausage. I answered all his questions, "what is Dr. K-H doing for you today?" I thought I heard a smirk- just another boob job - in his voice.  I told him I was having the tissue expander removed from my right breast area.  He asked if I was having an implant.  I let him know No, the radiation damage had made this too painful and I elected to reverse the process. His tone changed. I think if he had read his notes he wouldn't have had me scoot my own bare ass.  I also showed him my pink wrist band that singled DO NOT TOUCH THIS ARM.  I had a little lympodema episode - my fingers and hand decided to swell. A vein in my arm "irritated" and was quite painful. It made me wince with pain each time I moved  Finally drugs were administered, I didn't have to count backwards - the "heat" in my hand exploded and I remember saying "shit, that really hurts".  Recovery - room.  Nice sweet young ladies, giving me more meds.
I went back to my room.  Dr. K-Hair visited, said all went well. Asked if I needed drugs, I said, yeah-sure. He checked my arm.  He was more concerned about my arm than chest.  My chest immediately felt so much better. I have a new drainage tube.  Ahha! I have my ninja suit with built in drainage tube pocket.  Long story short, my recovery was easy. Easy until the evening when my body decided to purge all the drugs in my system. I have a new appreciation for rehab. The next morning I was fine.  Got up and wanted to (finally) clean my house.  But I didn't. I now have a puffy pit with a lot of tugging, numbness and sensitivity. Tuck 'N Roll x 2.  It's not over until it's over. 

Sorry, this is me feeling a little sorry for myself.  Having a little pitty party today. I just want to feel normal again. Me? Normal?  Not sure what that is anymore.

A large Canadian Goose just cruised by noisily putting Joey under the picnic table. A nocturnal  animal knocked over the bird feeder scattering sun flower seeds on the deck. Small finches hop around from seed to seed while Joey crouches under the picnic table, still. More geese can be heard in the distance among the rooster's crow and laying chickens.  Waa,waa,waa,  WAAAAK! I can almost feel their pain as each egg is laid. Nearby highway traffic noise sounds like ocean waves - overcast, green, chirppy and nippy. My favorite part of the day. On my couch under the techno warmth of my laptop.

The front patio has new potted tomatoes, peppers and herbs. The summer sun just barely making a showing this week is now hidden by a blanket of high thick clouds. It smells like wet hay. The local farm has recently "downed" a complete orchard of aging pear trees. Ghastly grey trunks overturned with their roots reaching towards the sky, like Zombies from the grave. Spring calves wander too far from their mothers that prompt a chorus of bellows and moans.  All is well, the blackberry bramble impede their journey and the little ones turn and trot on spindly legs back to the comfort of the big mama bellies that steam in the cool morning air. 

Coffee, bathrobe, fuzzy socks. Tom, Joey, local wildlife. Green fields, cows, roosters and geese. Potting soil, wet grass and smooth stones.  Oh, yes.  Kentucky Derby Day.  Where's my hat?  Never mind my hat, where's my Bourbon and Branch (no mint julep for me)?

Life is good.  Love you all. 

Deflated

I was greeted with puppy-dog eyes and sighs of concern and empathy. After careful consideration the needle performed the reverse action of its original intent.  Ounces of saline were extracted through the port from which originally implanted.  Bee-sting points pricked and flamed on the surface of stretched and non-compliant flesh-there was no give, no forgiving, no flexibility. The taught drum slowly deflated emphasized  by the hiss of sucking air through clenched teeth. Sadness, sympathy and light pats of reassuring hands, soothing hums while bacterial disinfectant applied. The bandage hung loose under the silver sheen of perspiration. The deed was done. The promise of perfect taa-taas lie flat like the sagging flesh left in the wake of this clinical procedure.  Instantly the shoulder drops, the back muscle relaxes and a future with a full range of motion seems possible. Surgery is scheduled for May 12th to remove the expander.  Yes. I immediately feel my brain recharged and my energy kicking into a new direction of purpose and intent.  I  hurt, but its all good.  I am woman. I am mono-boob. I'm over it. Deflated? yes, physically-no, in spirit.  Now, where do I get one of those wine bras?

"That looks like it really hurts"

Really, that's what my oncologist said, followed by a discussion about my hair.  She assured me, however, that detection will not be a problem should I elect to continue with the process.  She was very perturbed that I had the left breast biopsy and no one mentioned it to her, and there are no notes in my medical file.  She examined me and said, "that  REALLY looks like it hurts, the skin is so red, you need to go back and talk to your plastic surgeon".

I wanted to get back to the subject of cancer, her specialty. She said I literally have no breast tissue (on the right) and must continue to check the scar line.  It's along the scar that cancer cells may find a foot hold. I still wondered about the rest of my body. With nine positive lymph nodes there is no guarantee a nasty little bugger isn't hiding somewhere.  She agreed and said I need to continue having my checkups.

So where am I in my decision?  I'm getting closer to a decision. Tom and I had a long chat and it all comes down to how much more can I take? Is a boob really important to me? What happens afterwards-how long does it take to get back to normal?  More importantly, can we get rid of the tuck & roll when removing the implant?

Stupid is what stupid does

The worse day following surgery, almost a year ago. My chest is unforgiving. Each time I move my arm, reach, take a deep breath, yawn ... the POP and pull of pain sweeps through with a tidal wave of nausea. I stayed home today, hoping to get some sleep. Had a very difficult night.  Just typing makes me sweat. I'm seeing my oncologist on Friday- just a follow up.  I'm going to ask again what my odds are of cancer returning.  I'm feeling vulnerable and don't want synthetic hardware coming between me and detection. I have to think about 6 weeks of recovery time (if all goes well) and there is no way to plan for that length of time away from work. After I talk to her I may then call Dr. K-Hair and let him know that I wish to stop the reconstruction process.

It isn't fair - I watched a weird program on TV with transvestite beauty queens with figures to die for.  I was distracted from my pain while these amazon princesses strutted silicone and botox, then felt the small baseball in my chest and wondered again why I elected this.  First of all,  I really had no idea.  Guess I didn't ask the right questions, or listen carefully enough to the explanation.  This isn't me.  I'm not a depressed person, but this is making me terribly stressed and I feel stupid.

Wouldn't you know? Grow your own.

An announcement recently from Japanese universities that they are establishing an institute to use adult stem cells for breast reconstruction is welcome news, recognizing the current uses as well as future potential of adult stem cells for patients.
The most common methods of breast reconstruction are silicon injections and fat implants, which pose risks of infection as well as long-term maintenance. The proposal is to use adult stem cells from fat tissue (sometimes termed adipose-derived stem cells) of the patient to re-grow breast tissue.
There is already an ongoing approved clinical trial in Europe for breast cancer patients to use adipose-derived stem cells for breast reconstruction, and interim results have been very promising.
Doctors in Australia and in the U.K. had also previously announced clinical trials for the adult stem cell technique.
While it might sound humorous, adult stem cells from liposuctioned fat are a very useful source of stem cells for reconstructive surgery. They’ve already been used in other trials as well, but that’s for another story.
Growing new breast tissue from adult stem cells is not so far-fetched. In 2006, two groups showed that they could isolate mouse mammary gland stem cells, and regenerate an entire mammary gland from a single adult stem cell. (In the interests of equal time, another group showed in 2008 in mice the generation of a prostate from a single adult stem cell.) Of course, there are those who consider cosmetic breast augmentation the more significant application…
Adult stem cells continue to prove their superior capabilities for tissue repair in patients.

Just in case someone should ask

I returned for another "fill". Half dose, couldn't handle the full  load. With the standard handshake and inquiry to my health "how'd you do?" I consented once again to personal pain and torture. The divining rod-like magnet was waved over my chest marking the portal location, antiseptic applied and the foot long syringe extracted from the toolbox. I quickly reminded the practitioners that feeling had returned to that region and asked for some numbing spray. Following the "slight pinch" the doctor gritted his teeth and  applied  pressure to the plunger with an unnatural  intimacy. A slow process hindered by pressure from within.   As the needle was withdrawn the laws of physics applied and a small geyser sprouted followed by a squeak from the shinny attendant. Gauze, cotton ball and tape hung limp from the injection sight, adhesive useless against my damp skin. More experienced now I waved the attendant away and managed to stop the oozing myself. She handed me a fresh cotton ball which I held in place while she tapped. Over. Dr. K-H had already moved on to his next patient.

Before he left we discussed my skin. It is now showing signs of radiation damage.  It is stretched tight with small "pimples" that tear away. The area is darkening again and has a slight bruised appearance.  The implant is now the size of a baseball, and just as hard. Each movement involving my right side is crazy painful. The only time my arm feels "normal" is when placed over my head - so you can see me sitting most any time with my hand on my head. I 'm fighting against slumping and rounding my shoulders. It feels like my skin is shrinking and I want to curl up in a ball.  Finding a comfortable sleep position is impossible.  I'm again wondering why am I doing this? Today, I don't know.  Little jabby stabby pains shoot randomly through my baseball breast and I feel tugging and pulling with each movement. I'm actually nauseated by the pain. I don't know how long this will last.  Tom keeps making me laugh.  STOP IT! I tell him. He can't help himself. So I smile and giggle, and hold my  baseball in place while my chest tugs and pulls and my stomach turns. Joey sits on my feet, the laundry waits.

#8 You're Great!

As promised:  The world is a better place because of you.  You found the illustrious sneaky kitty, in record time and made our world whole. I'm sure you accomplished it with your always present charm, grace and style.  The perfect final charm to the Drummy circle. 

You go girl!  Way to go!!

Here Kitty, Kitty, Kitty . . . .

Where is my Kitty-ator? Partner in informercial soft sell? Laughing lady?  Hmmmmmmmmm? For the next 24 hours you will receive a free compliment and atta-girl if you are one of the first 6000 bloggers with Kitty Info.  But THAT's not all.  A complimentary wink and nod of recognition if you can produce the real, the original Kitty.  This offer may seem too good to be true, and yes it is spectacular, and  remember this is a limited offer. The clock is ticking.    gotta love a woodpecker

Back to Plan A

Sunday, lazy day.  I've recovered from my 12 hour shift. It was hard. But I can't imagine being on the other side (the ladies we support).  WOW the sunshine is beautiful, it makes me happy to see the blue sky and the birds circling the house, all types. 

Saw Dr. Kennedy-Hair Friday.  We had our discussion, he is game and supportive of any decision I make. I went ahead and had another fill.  He says my skin looks terrific and one of the best results following radiation that he has ever seen.  He said the the skin graft is intended to replace skin damaged by the radiation and  that since I'm only going for replacement, not enlargement, that I may (and he stressed MAY) not have to have the graft. He has offered more drugs for the discomfort.  I'm taking muscle relaxers at night, but have started taking them during the day - staying ahead of the discomfort. It works. So, unless I just "POP" I'm going to continue with my original plans.  I do not plan to have the surgery until August.

Day Off: Sunshine

Gotta work tomorrow-12 hour shift, so I'm taking today off.  Maybe work in the yard a little. Got up early so I could get the most of the day. See Dr. K-H later today, I think I'm going to have a consultation about if I can change my mind.  I'm so used to being mono-boob and tired of the hardware in my chest. The discomfort just doesn't stop. I wonder and worry about future biopsies - this latest one can't be done with implants.  How often will the professionals locate "areas of interest" and have to devise new torture technologies to probe, drill and tunnel my flesh?  It's been a year today I was told I had cancer. I'm going to have a good day, in spite of that bit of news. On a bright note, MY HAIR IS FABULOUS .

New Phone

I just entered the 21st century with my new (work provided) Samsung GalexyS.  Very cool.  I can see the keyboard, my fingers aren't too big and I may even be able to BLOG right from my phone. Next thing you know I'll be all a twitter. What I don't know, is my phone number, or how to make a phone call, or how to answer the darn thing.  It's like holding a Bologna sandwich to my face.  Tom can hardly contain himself. He's the one in the house with all the gadgets and gizmo's...but he doesn't have one of these. It's like he has a new obsession, my phone.  He has downloaded the manual, read all about the fantastic features that I'll never use to include making cartoons and signalling the Starship Enterprise. All I need to do is talk to people for work, check my email messages from work and maintain a work calendar. I have no interest in Birds in Catapults or Pigs that Giggle. I have no time for those - - - - I just ate a Green apple - - - - messages or care to hear about the latest mishaps of housewives in sausage dresses. One ringy-dingy, Two ringy-dingy, HELLO.
So, until I can get this new notepad-like phone thingy down I will continue to carry and answer my dinky little flip phone - same number.

Where do I put it?  

Good news!

Test results say I'm normal.   That may be going a little too far, however, my biopsy results show no abnormal cells, pre-cancer cells, or creepy crawlers. 

Celebrate:  wine and cream puffs. 

home again, home again, jiggidy jig

This picture makes it look easy. NOT.  I had to pull my arm and shoulder through the hole , not just my breast - you know it couldn't just be easy. Crazy upside down, arm and left breast dangling through the portal of pain. Chin pressed on hard surface, my jaw taking the full weight of my head, edge of metal table pressing hard on my rib cage, the edge of the portal smashed against my neck, arm in a sling down below goes numb, right side no problem.  30 minuets of squishing, pulling, poking, repositioning -then THERE! Hold still, there. Another 30 minutes later the needle is confirmed to be in the right place - SIX cores were removed. I didn't feel a thing, this time.  Could be the distraction of my jaw slowing sliding out of it's hinge - or what ever jaws do.

Big bruise, bandage, lots of bleeding. Home resting.  I was at work and got a call asking if I could come in in the next 30 minutes, I could, but it would be without drugs or a driver. No Problem they said, you'll do fine. I did. So I had the procedure done this morning at 10:30, home by 12:30. Felt like a weekend. Dr. Darling was wonderful. She reminds me of the character in the Big Bang Theory-the woman nerd, but prettier.

Keep our fingers crossed - may be just old lady calcium deposits.  Didn't know I was a mining field for natures elements. The six core samples looked like short earthworms floating in the jar I had to witness and initial. Maybe too much information. I cam home and took drugs - slept - blogged. I'm doing good.  If this blog seems odd, it may be the drugs.  Love you all.  Will keep you up to date as I learn more.

7 minute Mono-gram updaate

We l l l l l l ...... Yep, I got the call back.  That pesty radiologist wants another look.  Now I understand why this person lives on another universe (never to be seen).  I didn't care for the phone call.  The young lady kept talking about my left breast only....I said, "honey, that's the only one I got, I don't think I'll get it wrong." I don't think she got it.  She then asked me if I had any history of cancer in my FAMILY!!!  Good - God, girl. read your notes, or something. "Darling, I only have one breast. It was almost a year ago today I got the call back following my mammogram, I don't have that breast anymore."  She still seemed dumb. Well, the radiologist would like you to come in, for your left breast only.  I'm thinking I wouldn't even know where to look for my right one. 

So I went for my follow up.  There are two little (and they keep stressing little) areas of interest.  Please slip your arm out of the sleeve and step up to the plate.  OUCH.. my lonely little left breast screamed. "don't get dressed yet". . . . . . . have a seat, but don't get dressed yet.  This is going to the radiologist right now.  It will be reviewed immediately (on Lord, I don't like the sound of that).

Next I'm re-introduced to the lady of the PINK - nurse navigator.  She wants to hug and hands me the box of tissues.  She has some lovely pink pamphlets with plenty of sticky notes highlighting points of interest. I see a biopsy consent form and pull it towards me as she yaks about how long it's been since we  last met. I reminder her it's been almost a year to date. 

I have two small spots that needs to be biopsied.  It will be tomorrow at 2:00pm.  It will take an hour.  I will be suspended face down on a platform with a hole where my LEFT breast will dangle.  Below a technician will press my breast between some glass plates, numb it with lanocane (hopefully enough) and extract a sample of the offending areas of interest - just to be safe.  Here, some tissues.

Golly, geeze.  I haven't layed flat on my stomach for almost a year.  It's going to be a challenge to rest in place on my new rock hard, and may I add painful, little right pseudo-breast  for an hour.  We'll give it try. I'll have the result is 2 to 3 days. 

Is this deja-vou all over again?   Anne-out  - were are my cheezy poofs?  

Say Cheeeeeze please

Cheetos I'm tired. Sitting back with a glass of cheap wine and a bag of cheezee-poofs, does it get better than this? I'm so tired, I've been working about 65 hours a week, coming home and crashing. Believe it or not we can't get people to apply for jobs in Medford - what's up with that? So I've been doing a lot of "grunt" work - caring for our disabled residents who demand 24/7 supports.  This takes a lot of physical strength, and believe it or not, I'm the healthy one among the workers. So I show up at all hours, all days of the week and give 'em what I got. I promised myself that I would put Tom on my calendar.  We had a little St.Patty's date at the local Irish Pub.  I was so BORING. What do people talk about with such zeal?  I had to apologize to Tom for not being more entertaining.  But it is what it is.  Or, better, I am what I am.

Had my mammogram yesterday.  WOW, my appointment was at 2:00pm and I was out of there, in my car, at 2:07.  One of the advantages of mono-boob. The technician was so nice, so efficient, so understanding and sensitive to my single breast situation.  She saw my Port scar and gently touched my shoulder to inquire if I still had my Port.  The gown thing wasn't weird, she let me just slip it down (not take my arm out of the sleeve) and gently slipped t back up without my knowledge when all was done. Nice. 

Oh yes, speaking of Dr. Nice (radiation guy).  He isn't in my Insurance Network, so I now owe him $8,000.  Great Scott!! Especially since his is the only practice in Southern Oregon.  I had to go to him, the only provider in the area. The closest in network is in Roseburg.  Can you imagine? driving or worse yet, staying in Roseburg for 6 weeks?  Golly Geeze.  So here I am trying to image how I can pay Dr. Nice and save money for Bailey's wedding.  Guess I'll be eating a lot of Cheezy-poofs.

Weak Delay

Implant Update:  I had my second visit with Dr. KH last Wednesday.  I always try to get the first appointment of the day, less likely to have to wait. So here I am 8:15 waiting for my 2nd fill.  This time I asked the assistant to wait while I examined the paper vest.  I spread it out on the exam table and carefully peeled back each frontal flap. I explained I didn't want a repeat of last time.  And without an explanation, she asked "Oh, did it tear?".    YOU KNOW IT DID!!!  @!!X&%@

The vest didn't stick or tear. . . . but I still had a lot of trouble getting my 2nd arm through the "sleeve", chasing myself like a dog hot on it's own tail. I'm loosing my flexibility in my right shoulder. My chest still painful from the previous fill. The skin across my implant is taut and the injection sight tender. When The nurse arrived with her grey toolkit filled with the implements of torture I became weak at the knees.  It must   of been obvious to Dr.KH because when he entered the room (this time I was properly attired) he asked how I was doing and suggested that I wait a week or so... He said it was my calendar and I could go as fast or as slow as I wanted.  He has a lot of empathy for my situation and with his big blue eyes, looked up at me from his rolling stool and asked..."do you need any medication?" all the while poking the tender spot (on my heart). And you know how I feel about drugs,  I said in a  slow robot voice (I don't know why) "No..I .. don't..need...any...medication" followed by a weird silence.   We both shrugged.  It was decided that I would wait a week in hopes the pain would subside by then.  Again he reminded me that it's up to me, but he thought it was a good idea because the pain is telling us something, most likely that healing is slow due to the radiation. After a few more pokes he tells me the skin looks real good. So I rescheduled for next week.
At home:   I examine myself in the mirror I can see the eliptical mark left on my chest by the six weeks of radiation.  It's fading, but it's still there.  I decided to use a Cocoa Butter streatch mark cream to promote healing.  I figured it worked during my pregnancy, it should work here.  I will return next week, have less of a fill (it was really only 25cc's, not 120) and hope my weak spot is healed.

March Madness:  it's time to schedule my mammogram - this should be fun.

Empty Nest

Bailey called me the other evening to let me know she is engaged to get married.  She hasn't set a date or anything, sometime after she finishes school (probably summer 2012).
The be trowed is Aaron Scott.  They have been together for 2 years.  I believe he proposed on their anniversary (or close to it). He's a great guy who really knows Bailey and she him. They move equally well together in wide and narrow circles (in other words they don't smother each other) with varied interests, shared hobbies and friends. They have lived together for a year in a home owned by his Moms in North Oakland (Berkeley hills). They are fixing up the place - original intent to sell, but with the market the way it is, they are just fixing it up and living there. Bailey is going to Massage Therapy school in Emeryville. She realized the Political Economics thing wasn't going to get her anywhere and  found a vocation she really believes in. She already has customers standing in line (for their free massages, for now).  She hopes to partner up with a chiropractor or physical therapist and take her training to the next step.She already has potential interested partners.  She is still working at Barnes and Nobel as a Batista - she gave up her manager position to lighten the stress of going to school and working.  They have three cats - 2 his, 1 hers, a blended family.
So my baby bird has left the nest.  I'm overjoyed and delighted and not the least bit worried about her future. I'm saving tulle, do-dads and ribbons in hope that she'll need some Woodpecker magic when the big day comes - this little WP wants to party.

I gotta share this before I forget

I was attending an emergency home owners board of directors meeting at a neighbor's home.  Nice lady hosted - there were 3 of us . She served a variety of teas (another funny story), mini-turnovers and music.  Yep, she played the piano and sang. Piano good, signing, not so much.

Anyway image me sitting at a dinner table, sipping tea. The lady of the house turns on her magic piano that plays an organ version of SMILE.  She holds a 10 inch stick with a hand made paper smile taped to it.  She stands right next to me, looks me in the eyes and SINGS. *****OMG***** I have to tell you I was smiling, all right.  I had to hold it in and not burst out laughing.  I admit a giggle did escape.  She wanted me to be happy (like I'm not). Just assumed because of my ordeal that I needed cheering up.  Well she certainly did that.  I can never go back there. 

Do people really do these kind of things?  I don't know. Sweet.

P.S.   BAILEY IS GETTING MARRIED 

I know where to get a great wedding singer -  NOT!

The Wave

This morning I'm wearing the same socks Joey wore last night. Yep, he sat at the end of my couch with front paws tucked deep into my big fuzzy pink house socks.  Cute, especially when he waved.

Had my first breast injection this week. I returned to Dr.Kennedy-Hair's new (not new-new, but old new)office after dropping off one of my "Ladies" at the critical wound care clinic. I didn't leave her alone, she was with staff.  His office is just across the street from the medical center so I was able to combine the two appointments. I'm not liking the fact that I know my way around the medical community, it's just a side effect of my job and recent adventures. He was very busy and I couldn't find a parking space in the lot and had to find parking on the street. I don't parallel park. But I did. I was a little early and he was a little late.  45 minutes later I was on the examining table/recliner chair with a paper vest drape with a strategically located hole just over my left nipple.  Cute, especially when I waved.

The man must think I'm crazy. Every time he enters a room I'm struggling with my clothes. This time the little pale blue paper half vest is GLUED closed and I had to tear it  open and as I sat up right on the the table/recliner thingy my left nipple played peek-a-boo as I move.  Cute, especially when I wave.

CAUTION: the following isn't all the pleasant.
So, it was discussed that I wouldn't have my surgery until June but meanwhile everything looks great.  It could happen that I may only need the implant and not the  skin graft - it all depends on what's going on inside and under the skin. I like this guy.  He's careful, deliberate and not in a hurry.  All good qualities in a plastic surgeon.  I was assured that I'm progressing well.  I had 120 cc's of saline injected.  AHHHHhhhh. My little baby boob is hard as a rock and the skin is tight as a drum. I'm very sore at the injection sight.  I had a little body fluid build up around the implant which was drained by squeezing the injection sight.  OUCH. The mound is high on my chest and filling in the tuck and roll a bit. I felt a little queasy following and elected to just go home instead of back to work.  I find myself stuck in a slouch or sitting unnaturally straight. I have removed the soft falsy from the right side of my bra and moved it to the left.  So now I have a nice 14 year old perky baby boob on the right and ---well the other one. Cute, especially when I wave.

Cold Front in the Pacific North West - good day for baking cookies.

I return every two weeks for more saline.  Good Grief!  Dolly Parton, step aside.

SUPER SUNDAY

Yep, it's Super Sunday. I'm not going to rag on football.  I could, but I won't. I mean I really could! But I won't. If it weren't for the crowd noise, the commercials, the talking heads-who just can't help themselves-they have to yak and yak and yak about nonsense; it if weren't for the silly half time shows that try to out do the Olympic ceremonies (I personally prefer the marching bands and flag twirlers); if it weren't for the planned commercial breaks and game delays,  the instant replays, the sideline antics I think could really enjoy the game. But the game takes back seat to the commercial enterprise-the money. I have to admit, I do enjoy those great commercials with talking animals and cat herders.  I enjoy sitting with Tom and talking to the TV, passing a bowl of chips. I'm not going to rag on football, but the commercialism, maybe. 

Go Cheeseheads, Go Steelers and your terrible towels!  I will be eating BBQ Pork sandwiches and potato salad, drinking baby beer (those cute little Coronas) while nursing the flu in the comfort of my own home. Best seat in the house - next toTom, Joey at my feet, platters of food, IN MY BATHROBE if I feel like it.

Health Update: see Dr. KH on Wednesday.  Saw the Oncologist  I was told (after my bone density test) that I have "great bones".  Nice. Participated in a medical review session with
other cancer patients to identify what worked and didn't work as far as the care provided.  It wasn't very enlightening. We're all glad to be alive. Glad to be alive for another Super Bowl Sunday.

In spite of the flu, I'm doing well, just tired, still. Armpit and right shoulder still very uncomfortable. I do my exercises and stretch the chest muscles daily - small improvements. It was this time last year when I found my self in the ER for a injury to my foot, which led me to going to my doctor, which led me to having my mammogram ... and well, you know the rest. 

I need new glasses

Good morning. My arms are just waking up. The tuck & roll just ever so lightly causing discomfort. I've GOT to get new glasses. The letters on the screen are all blurred, I'm typing from memory, hope it's not total crap.I've been away for awhile.  Just a mental vacation. Took a break from the pokes and clip boards to normalize my life. "Good luck with that one" rattles in my head. Now I realize that it's the journaling that keeps me normal. So much has happened, so here goes.

The minnow (Tom nicknamed my car after the tour boat from Gilligan's Island - another story) splits a thick blanket of fog as I approach the freeway. This stretch of I-5 gets the most traffic yet there is always plenty of space to merge between the inter-state eighteen wheelers and the blue haired hat drivers. Being a new card caring member of the blue hairs I confidently hit the gas and make my move.  Similarly to typing this journal I blindly maintain speed and set my course towards work.  Being half city-town and half country almost anything can pop up on the highway. I expect a deer, a skunk or a homeless man pushing a wooden cart but what happened on this morning caught me totally by surprise. While I'm maintaining a respectable speed in the right lane the fog plays games and swirls, thickens, rises then Thunks on my windshield. Nothing. I continue to drive neck stretched forward, eyes fast on the road ahead, carefully watching for the next exit. In the distance the fog thins and I see movement on the road, I slow and pump my brakes to warn those behind me that I'm changing speed. It is very silent, only road noise in my ears.  Then I see it. Standing firm, holding his ground, daring me to make my move.  All time seemed to stop as I approached this beautiful creature in the road. He was not confused, just caught in the fog on the wrong side of the road.  He knew what he had to do. Morning came without a warning and he lost track of time and found himself in the commuter lane. Wise and agile the coyote stepped aside, He watched me carefully as I passed. Our eyes met, his golden and alert.  My first bit of visual clarity in years. I saw every bristly thread of his mane, the deep thick coat and bushy tail, the hot breath in the fog.  I felt alive and hopeful for the coyote. It was surreal.

The fog hung around all day, but the next morning I saw no evidence on the side of the road that the creature hadn't successfully navigated the asphalt river. I saw hawks and turkey vultures, but no coyote or coyote remains. I'm pleased and angry at the same time. Pleases that nature works and angry that this creature had to face the minnow, knowing it wasn't a fair fight.

This minor experience reminds me that I really need to get new glasses. Or does it mean I need to take off my blinders? Whatever. I did resolve to being more aware of the world around me.  The world, it seems, has thrown down the gauntlet. I rescheduled my physical therapy, saw my radiologist, am meeting with my oncologist, had a bone density scan, started taking hormone inhibitors, scheduled my next (left) mammogram, and will  soon be seeing Dr. K-H to re initiate the chest expansion process. Oh boy. Gotta get new glasses, this new world is really worth seeing.

It's a new day happy New Year: 2011

It's a new dawn.  It's a new day. And I'm FEELING gooooood.

Stayed up as late as I could then had a restful sleep. The New Year has arrived - although we had snow flurries last night the sun is shinning brightly this morning and a strong wind assaults the house and everything around it. It feels fresh and stings like sea breeze. All the old carried away with the fall leaves and branches.  The sun warms the rooftops which hiss and steam. A single bird perched on the pitched roof stands firm against the wind. Could it be a woodpecker? In an instant it's gone. 

Tom and I have been enjoying the bird show on our deck. Attracted to sunflower seeds the large ones line up in the bare sycamore and take turns while the little ones peck at the seconds tossed about underneath. Joey doesn't mind them at all. The local televised farmer says that providing water is just as important as seed. So we placed a water dish out.  No activity there. The neighboring birdbath meets those particular needs I suppose.

I mention this all only because of my new year resolution.  I resolve to be more conscience of my world. Not  necessarily the news or current events, but the physical space I occupy, the impact of my being, what I leave in my wake, how I influence the future.

I kept waiting for a BIG change in my life.  Well.....That certainly  happened. But I didn't feel changed by it, only challenged and daunted, and exhausted. 2010 didn't make me a better person. I thought I would wake up one morning and feel ...something new inside. Something that would carry me through the rest of my life, because, after all, I just went to hell and back and it should mean something!! I remember thinking there were angels all around me.  So I resolve to being more patient, and purposeful, more giving and less expectant, more caring and less judgmental. This will not happen naturally.  I will have to make it happen. I expect to brave my own instincts, like the bird on the pitched roof, and fight against what's easy, even if I get blown away, I resolve to try.

Happy New Year.  Welcome 2011. This little Woodpecker eats black-eyed peas and sends love, hugs and kisses to you all.

Major Pain: May 25, 2010

Tuesday, May 25, 2010 7:31 PM, CDT

Thank you for getting your mammograms. I'd like to share some thoughts on pain: Although I have had the normal growing and aging pains I don't believe I have ever really lived with pain. It was clear to me the moment of my first needle biopsy that I never really experienced pain. I am now managing pain. It sucks. I worry that I will get hooked on my pain meds. I experimented and learned I can't maintain without my pain meds. It sucks. I know I will get over my pain, but now I understand I now know what I fear, the pain. 

My pain isn't what I expected it would be. It goes beyond localized hurt, it's deeper and unlocalized, it's cold, dull and gray. It doesn't throb, it's sneeky and crawls, it occassionaly and unexpectedly jabs and stabs-then hides behind needle pricks. My pain changes my mood, my energy my appetite and zaps me of confidence and motivation. I've had to learn to "get in front of the pain". New concept for me..do not wait for the pain and take the meds...take the meds before you need them. I was told that effectively managing the pain decreases the recovery time by 50%.  It wasn't until I was told this that I understood that I need to stay in front of the pain. Pain is such a pain. Geeze...I'm rambling....must be time for my meds.

Typical, I'm embarrased to call and ask for a refill. What's that all about?  I've identified  my need to be strong and stay in front of the pain.

I appreciate everyone's offer to come and help.  Right now I'm doing well (staying in front of the pain).  I will get my Chemo schedule this Thursday and will have a better idea if and when I may need help. But I'm always open to company.  Radiation therapy will be 5/days a week, for 6 weeks after the Chemo therapy, several months away. I've decided I will take off 2 weeks from work during radiation, probably the last 2 weeks.  I expect some major pain management will be in order. 

Don't want to be a PAIN, but if you haven't gotten your exam, please do not wait, do not hesitate, be good to yourself and Get-er-done.   Love you!! 

May 21, 2010

Friday, May 21, 2010 8:44 PM, CDT

Had a new experience with Dr.Kennedy-hair. I was in the exam room trying to remove my sweater-it was taking a bit of time and my earings kept hanging up on the collar.  With most of it off but awkwardly entanged who should walk in on me?...Yes. He must think I'm challenged in the dressing myself department. With a team of lovely student nurses looking  on (they were all shinely and new) Dr. K-H raised a chain and positioned it over my chest.  The chain wavered and like a divining rod located the location of the expander port nestled in my chest wall. With no more than a tiny needle prick I received two whole ounces of saline, the first of many deposits to reserve room for the future implant. 

Met with the radioligist today.  Another beautiful 13 year old professional. We talked for about 2 hours about my diagnosis, current treatment and what to expect when it's time to receive radiation. 5 treatments a week for 6 weeks. Radiation to the chest wall and lymp nodes in my neck. I learned a lot and have options although gently encouraged to go the chemo/radiation path. Again, sometimes this and sometimes that . . it's all a mystery and we have to wait and see.  At least I was able to undress and dress without incident.

Back to work: May 19, 2010

Wednesday, May 19, 2010 8:58 PM, CDT

Yes, I'm back to work. I've learned what I can and can't do. But I mostly sit at a desk: type, talk and shuffle papers. I shuffle the best I can through the halls trying to be inconspicuous. It's very therapeutic for me to keep busy.  It's a good thing day time TV is so terrible. My arm is feeling MUCH better. Going commando was the best idea I've had so far.  The swelling has gone down, the tingle in my neck and shoulder is totally gone but my skin is still sensitive - which may just be the nerves waking up.  I take a 20 minute power nap at lunch time (close the door, turn off the light and put my feet up) followed by a brisk walk around the parking lot.  Today the Janitorial Manager assigned me my own bathroom which he will personally sanitize daily.  Nice. Sleep is coming easy. I have my first injection tomorrow to start the "stretching" process in preparation for an implant. Friday is my first visit with the radiologist/oncologist - just a consultation, radiation won't happen for several months.  More hurry up an wait, but at least I'm busy.  Love You All!!!

Sans-A-Boob May 19, 2010

Wednesday, May 19, 2010 9:09 AM, CDT

Okay, can't always have good days. Monday, back to work was fine.  No problem.  Yesterday was more difficult, I may have overdone it.  Today I'm going"Sans-a-boob", meaning I'm not wearing a camisole, sports bra or any type of fake breast.  The elastic bands around my chest and under arm are too irritating and causes me great discomfort. So I'm going Commando above the waiste. Nice. Turtle neck jersey, loose over blouse with a shiney neckace (to distract), jeans and boots.  Not exactly corporate, but warm and comfy.  I expect to kick some "A" today, get some work done.  Looking forward to the physical therapy - doing my exercises,  have good range of motion this morning. I can put my hand behind my head without pain. Keeping my eye on my drug intake - will kep it real. 

Big Bed: May 16, 2010

Sunday, May 16, 2010 10:14 AM, CDT

Big Bed: Had a difficult night. My skin (tummy, chest & arm) is sensitive, feels like I have a sunburn.  Clothes irritate and sleeping was tough.  My head hurts, my arm is stiff, burning with pin and needles. Someone is stepping on my chest. Dag Nab-It!!  I thought I was getting better. Tears streaming down my cheeks, Tom brought me the drugs.  I learned our big bed works better on my back and now have a step stool to get into it. I no longer flop and flip, I wish I could, but it's so nice to be back in the big bed. Feeling like I may not be able to return to work tomorrow...just one day at a time.

Underwear May 15, 2010

Saturday, May 15, 2010 9:03 PM, CDT

Feeling funny all under: I have to share my underwear story. My navigator insisted I needed to purchase a special post surgery under garment that would house my little buddies and keep me together. It was expensive and totally useless. I only had to pay  the $25.00 copay but feel especially cheated when I bought the perfect post surgery outfit for $12.00 at Wal-Mart. Getting ready to leave I chose to put my own underwear (panties) on instead of waiting for assistance.  Why would I need anyone to help me put on my underwear?  I didn't fully appreciate at the time how inflicted my right arm was. I was still protecting my chest. As I stood with my hospital gown wide open in the back (untied) I attempted to step into my panties. It was then I realized I had a very limited range of motion. I managed to pull up my panties up my left leg, while the right side stubborning clung to my leg below my knee.  With my left hand, under the hospital gown I pulled and got my hand tangled in the elastic and in a very compromising position heard.."Do you need some help?"  It was Dr. Kennedy-Hair looking on with a twisted smirk..holding in a laugh.  I babbled something about how stupid I must be if I can't even put on my panties ... we shared a moment of shrugged shoulders, raised eyebrows as if to answer... I don't know, how stupied must I be. I managed to untangle my hand and cover my ass.  He dismissed himself and I continued my struggle when Carl (the ever wonderful CNA) came in to help.  He was sweet-holding my gown closed as I shuffled (panties at my knees) to the bathroom to sit down on the toilet to catch my breath.

Later when it came time to dress for my departure The Nurse came into help me with the bubbles.  She was going to pin the tubes to my shirt . . . but NO!  I have a camisole!  So Tom and the Nurse worked diligently to corset me into this poorly designed contraption.  I had to step into it. The three of us pulled and tugged to get the elastic banded empire waist over my big old butt.  The elastic band included a velcro band that convienienty helf two little round "pockets" for the bubbles. Geeze...the velcro attached itself to my panties, the body of the camisol folded and twisted around the bra top...after some good heave-hos & POP, the whole garment was successfully twisted at my middrif. Now my arms needed to go into the shoulder straps.  RIGHT. Remember, no range of motion. After several attempst the three of us under the watchful eye of Carl got me stapped in - pockets in place and tubes tightly tucked away.  All this could have been easily accomplished with my front loading pocketed bed jacket.  Who knew? I will be returning the camisole with a note to the maker as to why the velcro sucks, the pockets suck, the shoulder straps suck, the empire elastic band sucks, the giant puffy boobs make for a wonderful seatbelt protector.  Wal-Mart, again, came to my rescure with a $11.00 sports bra that snaps in the front, it's wide enough under my arm to hold in the back fat reminent that currently has nothing to support it (used to be held by the breast). So easy to put on, no pulling or pulling- it holds a nice little fake breast and makes me feel good all under.  I went shopping and felt nearer to normal.  Gotta remember to not over do it. 

Braless in SO May 12, 2010

Wednesday, May 12, 2010 4:35 PM, PDT

Bye Bye Buddies,  I really hate to see you go.  Bye Bye              B U D D I E S!! ......no this is not some bizarre Broadway tribute to bubble pocket pals, just a sigh of releif.  With just a little coaxing Dr.Berekely-girl pulled the extra plug and emancipated this home girl.  Doing so well, no tape..no tubes..no pocket buddies. I almost feel pretty.
So now what?  More waiting.  In a few weeks I'll return to the oncologist for a new game plan to include Chemo and radiation.  Looks like many more months to come.  The right arm is still a bit weird-in a deep sleep, slowly waking up.  Tingle and pin pricks, total absence of feeling. Sometimes it does, sometimes it doesn't.  I still feel very protective to the shoulder, the chest, and find I keep my elbow in and wrist raised to my waist level. I'll get over it.  No problem typing (has nothing to do with content and spelling). Nice celebraton, the sun made a showing and the evening is delightful. Braless in Southern Oregon. I will try to drive this weekend to see how well I may do making the 45 minute drive to Grants Pass next week. At least it's a straight road with very little variations.  The seatbelt will be challenging especially now that the local police have announced a new dedication to the CLICK-IT or TICKET law and will be on the lookout for violaters.  I will need to break out the big boob pads included with the camisole for extra padding.  ...Sorry officer I pulled over to the side of the road because my boob pad slipped and the seatbelt snapped . . . . . and Ouch !!  I wonder if Dr.Kennedy hair will give a note authorizing Sansa-belt driving.

Love to Jackie for being there, again.  Girl I owe you. 
Thank you Sara and Norm for the goodies. I plan on many mornings brunching on the deck.  Yumm.. Yumm. 
Ladies & Gents at work-The bonzai garden will be a morning reminder that Angels live all around us and life is good.  Thank You. 
Bye Bye Buddies!! Hello PORT - life goes on. 

Ninja and pocket buddies May 10, 2010

Monday, May 10, 2010 4:43 PM, PDT

Pocket Buddies.
Week two. It's been a week since my surgery. I'm doing really well, but still very tired. Last night I had 4 1/2 hour of uninterrupted sleep. Since the hospital I was either waken or woke up on my own at least every two hours.  I don't think I have had any REM sleep and today my body is begging for it. Jackie and I had another nice day just being sisters.  When she left to help a friend I  went down hard.
I have two little pocket buddies, these granade shaped bulbs (drainage tubes) attached to my back remind me of the Cyborg movies.  It's weird how there are no bandages, just a single strip of tape over the major incision. The pocket buddies tubing comes directly out of my skin. The only discomfort is when there is a little tug, mainly when I forget they are there and try to reposition or travel about the house.  With good luck these little buddies will be removed this week which will allow me more freedom. I just can't see going out and about with these tucked into my pocket.  Although I could, I just don't want to. That brings me to my Ninja suits.  I really scored on these comfy outfits I picked up at (of all places) Walmart.  Soft cotton jersey top and bottoms with all the qualities for the occassion:  1) Buttons in Front - the buttons are LARGE @ 1 inch buttons making it easy to put on, over the buddies, and easily buttoned with one hand.  2)  3/4 Length sleaves - cool, yet covers most the arm - sleaves stay out of the way at the sink - no wet cuffs.  3) Soft cotton threaded seams - no scratching, not lumps can't even feel them  4) Large outer pockets for my buddies.  These pockets also create a pocket on the INSIDE - so I can put the buddies on the inside - NEAT!  5) soft wide covered waist band pants-wide leg make it easy to pull up with one hand, if needed. Soft draw string if needed.  6) short pant length-jodpurs. No tripping over cuffs, easy to slip over shoes, cool and breathable.  They can be worn indoors, outdoors, to the store or to bed.  Really nice. I bought 3 sets.  Funny little lady clothes but with a few beads and fashion sandles better than my alternative (old running T-shirts and wholly sweats).  These will be good during Chemo with a camisole . I plan on getting some BIG danggly earrings and a loud glittery tote bag to accent wigs, hats, and scarfs.  Going for the big girl look.

Happy Mothers Day: May 9, 2010

Sunday, May 9, 2010 6:10 AM, PDT

Happy Mothers Day to all.  It is a beautiful blue sky morning.  I woke myself up before Tom could get to my bedside.  I feel great.  Had a difficult night, worried that I over-dosed myself on pain meds and antibiotics.  But there is no arguing with a sleepy self and I needed something to worry about. So I woke up every 2 hours to see if I made it alive. Yep, I'm still here. I may have exercised my right arm a little too much yesterday and focused on a new pain in the center or my chest. The skin fold allows for some stretching  but I may have overdone it. Today the feeling in my arm has mostly returned and I there is no swelling. Good.

Following I'm going to go into my hospital experience. I don't recommend you read it unless you are SOOO bored and really have nothing better to do.  But I do want to document the time as remembered by a drugged out Semi-Senior (or senior in training-I think 55 is the official age of dementia) So here goes:

We woke early Tuesday for the 5:30am registration time. I packed a small bag to include books, change of clothes , personal toilet items. After Tom's coffee we rose to our feet and looked at one another, squared our shoulders and proceeded to the garage. We drove silently to the hospital, after a brief reminder of which way to go (where are we going today..is it RVMC or Providence? the destinations are all blending). We recalculated and headed towards the main entrance.
We were met by the predictable volunteer who happily and with great gusto escorted us to the intercom-ed door to the surgery waiting area. After a brief wait Vada Nichols was called and we entered the sterile and orderly environment we had toured just the day before.  That was a good idea. I felt confident I was in good hands. The surgery attendant even remembered us from the day before. Nice. It's weird that I'm getting a little weak and nervous as I write this down. Tom was with me when a nurse respectfully pulled the shoulder of my newly dawned hospital gown to expose by right breast.  She applied a very thick white cream to my nipple without ever really touching me (Neat trick) while Tom looked on. In the wrong context this could have appeared very kinky. THEN she siran wrapped the whole thing like a hostess cupcake and covered me up.  This was numbing cream in preparation for the needle pricks-toxic chemical injections.  The cream needed an hour to really sink in. I don't remember the details, but an IV was inserted in my left hand and I believe some drugs may have been added because I do remember giggling while Tom looked wide-eyed and surprised at my new disposition.  I was instructed to lie down and was covered with a warm blanket. Hmmm..warm blankets.  That's the ticket.  Hostess cupcake all warm and melty. I closed my eyes and saw a square clown head- it made me laugh. The bed was wheeled through doors and down hallways.  I watched the ceiling tiles change form modern white tiles to stained yellow ones, I knew I had left the new surgery center.  I was met by a nice young man who explained he was going to insert a needle into by breast, just around the nipple. It was done.  I felt nothing. More waiting. Now it gets really vague. I don't know where Tom is. Surgery time, I'm wheeled into the operating room.  I look around it is bright, very large room, with many people busy checking equipment, setting the table, washing dishes (that's what I thought, anyway). with a heave and ho I was transferred to an ironing board and strapped down so I wouldn't fall off. Young ladies were speaking to each other in a familiar and casual manner (did I hear the clinking of wine glasses?) could have been about the previous evenings exploits. Out of nowhere a friendly face drops down into sight, smiles and says. .(what?) . .I see a plastic face mask approaching slowly....next thing I know I'm groggy and giggly and speaking to Tom. I guess I was on the table for about 3 hours and 45 minutes?? Not sure, doesn't really matter, to me anyway.  It was torture for Tom and Jackie. Maybe they should offer drugs to the family members.   - well that's enough for now. I'll continue the hospital adventure later. 

Now I'm sleepy again. The sun has gone behind a cloud and the room is in shadows. I feel good. I feel safe at home. I feel loved.  Happy Moms day to me. Yeah, happy moms day to me. 

Nap time May 8, 2010

Saturday, May 8, 2010 11:34 AM, PDT

I'm Back.
Home again, home again jigg-y-dy jig. The past few days have been  interesting to say the least. It'a all behind me, just a gray memory, a fuzzy dream. For the record I'll go into what I remember later. But first want to share that I felt all the love and wishes from the sisterhood of the traveling red jacket.  You all gave me strength-it worked, I feel strong and ready for Phase II.

Yesterday was a beautiful day. Jackie and I spent a nice quiet day together. Jackie took good care of me while Tom returned to work for a few hours. 72 degrees on the deck ,I enjoyed a PB&J, a Drummy fruit cup and sun chips.  I haven't lost my appetite.  Altough I have lost 8 pounds, I'm enjoying small meals of simple foods.  I realized this morning how much I enjoy, I mean reall enjoy, a cup of coffee.

I mentioned it was a beautiful day, but not perfect. I was surprised to receive a call from my surgeon so soon, but the pathology lab results came in. The node cluster that was removed (18) tested positive for cancer.  This means chemo, radiation then hormone treatment.  It's going to be a long haul. Dr. Kennedy-hair will hold off on the reconstruction until after the treatments.  I finally took a good look at my chest.  It's not a preatty picture, but it's interesting. I mean really amazing. You can see that the surgeon left as much skin as possible. It's sort of like a deflated tire.
Tom has discovered he is a natural care provider. He is so wonderful. Turned in the walkie talkies and now focused on my medical needs, keeping the house clean and finding creative ways to assure I'm comfortable and safe. Life is good - it is exhausting, but good.  I feel good. but just gotta remember to not do too much. Need a nap.

Smile, be happy. May 3, 2010

Monday, May 3, 2010 1:38 PM, CDT

Back from Pre-Op, I chose a festive spring salmon tunic with wranglers-to offset the walkie talkies, flats and some sparkely bobbels & beads. I was greated like the queen on coronation day. No change to my diagnosis, no change in the schedule - 5:00 AM tomoorow it is.  All looks good, nodes and lumps as we last left them.  Again, no news is good news. The navigator walked us through the front doors, of the hospital. Because of the early morning  schedule we wanted to be sure we knew our way around.  No surprises.  Lovely volunteers will sign us in (there is always someone there-I'll have to remember to be a hospital volunteer someday) and escort us to the surgery unit.  Tom needed a lay of land. Where will he sit? How far can he go in the process with me? What will he do?? I suggest a good book. So as it goes, Tom can stay with me up to the point of surgery. Then there is a nice seperate waiting room with private consultation rooms for doctors to meet family members aftwerwards. I get to take relaxing drugs and lie on my back under warm blankets while the practiced miricle workers set the stage for action.  Wheel me here, there and BAMMM I'm down and under. Not looking for the extra soreness of the implant. Oh vanity. Didn't know I had it in me.
As we left the hospital tour and ran some errands I took note of the gloomy weather. Tom returned to work and I look around and see all the little tasks left undone and begin to worry.  My stomach hurts, I feel a little queezy, I didn't sleep well at all last night and expect the same tonight. Smile..Be Happy.."B"called.

If it sqawks like a duck.... May 2, 2010

Sunday, May 2, 2010 5:29 PM, CDT

Sunday: All my laundry is done. The guest bedroom underwent a mini-make over...looks like control central.  TV..Work laptop..Blackberry..Cell Phone..Personal laptop..clock radio..chargers..Ohhh yes, and a camouflage walkie-talkie that squawks like a duck.  Tom, the dear, went from a baby monitor to hunting gear. He's being helpful. I'm covered.

Tomorrow is the Pre-Op meeting with the surgeon at 9:30 then a hospital walk through with the navigator.  What does one wear to a pre-op? I wonder if I can take my walkie talkie?