A joyful noise

There was a moment during the party when everyone was (in the kitchen, of course) talking and laughing and sharing all the food everyone brought. It was LOUD. I could barely hear myself think.

Somehow through the blur of it all, it registered in me, to remember that instant. I was SO very happy. It was such a pleasant contrast to the long quiet lonely days of lying on my couch not eating.

We had plenty of wine and plenty of people and chocolate desserts and white chocolate fudge which I really DID hide from everyone else. :)

The pictures that my sweet little friend N took are grainy and scattered and from a nine year old's height, but they are still pretty much perfect. Anyway, I'll remember.

No trombones

Today marks 76 days since August first, and 76 days UNTIL New Years Eve. (I can't read "76" without thinking of the old song "76 Trombones". What is up with THAT? Now it's stuck in my head...)

Time is speeding up again; no more long dreary days where I can really sleep and don't feel like eating.

Yesterday I made plans for where we will spend Thanksgiving and Christmas. Happily for me (and my sad, sorry wallet) my hosting workload should not be as extensive as last year. Yipee!!

A thank you celebration

Many people brought meals to my family while I was sick. We are very active in our school and parish and as much as I grumble about all of the time spent volunteering and NOT doing my own spring/fall cleaning, there are dozens of good people who took care of us and got us through this year. Chicken, lots of chicken, and lasagnas and mac and cheese and cookies and brownies... I could go on and on. There is nothing so humbly rewarding as having a dear friend make sure you get a warm meal when you really need one. I don't think I ever truly understood that until this year.

It also bears mentioning that people lovingly took my children overnight when I had surgeries, took them to school concerts and baseball practice and fun places while I was too sick from my chemo to do the things I normally do, and even rushed to comfort them when I got carted away in an ambulance that one time.

We are having a little party at my house this weekend to say thank you to our friends, and sort of celebrate the end of the most active phase of my treatments. I still have doctor visits and tests sprinkled all through my future, but HOPEFULLY the worst is over.

I still don't feel quite like me... one thing I have noticed is the weakness in my upper body, from four beautiful incisions and radiation and all of the necessary healing that goes with all of that, and that things like lifting my hands over my head or lifting a case of soda will bring me pain. The random nosebleeds come and go along with the quality of my memory and ability to focus on a challenging task on any given day. And the other day I was making apple crisp, with nice fresh apples from the orchard, and I was slicing and peeling and feeling all zen Mother Earth and happy. Then I felt a POP in the back of my hand. I looked at my hand, thinking, "I don't REMEMBER banging that on anything just now" and watched a bruise spread 2" wide before my brains kicked in and I iced the darn thing. Fck. Seriously? It will take two weeks to fade. Nice joke, universe.

At any rate I have been really looking forward to this party, because it is another step of closure on the big bad scary part. And while I can't have everyone there that I really want to, (every one of the many people who helped me, that is... because people have lives and commitments and are far away and things get crazy... ) I will have most of them, and we will be celebrating.

The funniest part, for me, is that I planned this so that I could make a nice spread of appetizers and some ziti and meatballs and carrot cake, and feed all of my beloved friends, and without fail they have called to RSVP and asked,

"What can I bring?"

Zombie pumpkins

These are some contenders for this year's pumpkin. (Thanks Marco,for the clown suggestion; the two at lower left are my favorites)

My son is going to try one this year. He's leaning toward gene Simmons, who didn't make it into this snapshot.

He also tells me that the thugs, um, vandals, ....kids! I mean KIDS who come by every year look for my pumpkins now... Heh.

Visit www.zombiepumpkins.com and buy 20 patterns for $5 via paypal. Tell them Carly sent you. They won't have any idea who I am, but tell them anyway :::snicker:::

Boo hoo

Ugh!
I hate Halloween. And it's almost here. But I am going to be cheerful about it this year, dammit... Drink hard cider (:::ahem:::), and give candy to dozens of kids I've never seen before,.... And carve a wicked pumpkin. These are little clips from my blog in '07, '08, and '09. Yes, I carved those. Patterns are my friend. Any suggestions / requests for this year?

Blue

Yesterday my son and his friend helped Mr paint my bedroom. It's blue; but I figured out today they had used the wrong blue (it was too dark and didn't go with the sample of rug I picked).

I was willing to just pick a new rug because it was a nice blue; it just didn't match the rug (which wasn't ordered yet) - but Mr C went and grabbed a gallon of the right color and redid it this afternoon. Everything was all torn apart anyway... It didn't take long to cover the "wrong" blue, which looked VERY purple next to the "right" blue.

The store clerk said that when we got the paint (back in July) they probably looked at my paint chip (which wasn't from their store) and picked something they had that was "close". So because I was still sick I had the wrong samples, wasn't there at the store, didn't notice, etc.

So D had slept over at his friend's after painting and we decided to mess with them.

We told them the paint had dried and changed color and asked them what they did wrong; we said that we wanted them to redo it tonight. We let them stew for about five minutes. It was almost worth all the trouble, to see their reactions - but still too much work! I hate painting !!

Sunday art

At 10:10 on 10/10/10 I was laughing at Stanley's new reading glasses, which open at the bridge of his nose and close via a magnet. (He likes to walk up to people and grab the outer part of the glasses and tug them open just to see people react as they split apart )

I needed a laugh because it's been a bumpy few days. I went to get my hair colored back to my favorite brown with a hint of red and ended up with hair that was VERY orange. Ronald McDonald was asking me to make him lunch. Post-chemo hair is wonky and doesn't always cooperate well with cosmetology.

I got it "fixed" but it's very dark. Not the "me" I am trying to find my way back to. Some people won't / don't understand I guess, but I have been longing to look at myself in a mirror and see "myself" and since my hair fell out I feel like I haven't been able to do that. I know my issues are small in light of - for instance - what Stephanie Nielsen is going through, but it is one more frustration on the path (surgery done, almost ready to go back to work, then my incision reopened. Chemo almost done, then I got a mouth infection. Radiation done, then I got a skin infection. Hair finally is almost a normal length, and I turn it into clown hair wanting this all to be BEHIND ME. Aaaaagh! )

So I ate TWO cider donuts today. Yummy.

Not a ribbon

I thought this was pretty, so I ordered one...I saw it on Twitter. It's not so pink- ribbon -ish, but it will make people that are merely casual acquaintances nod and leave me alone about the whole pink for October thing. Ya know?

Lastly, I freeze a little too often at work and this might help. I love wrapping up in a big cute scarf. (Yes, I spent a few years at my last job sitting at my desk bundled up in scarfs and giant pashmina: shawls.)

A little frayed around the edges

(Photo is mine from last summer, edited with photostudio app for iPhone )

I am trying to work a little bit more this week. I usually work around 30 hours and alternate between telling myself I'm doing fine or that maybe I'm coasting too much.

Who doesn't like to roll over when the alarm goes off and mumble "I'll get up in an hour"? That's what I've been doing the last month or so, getting the rest of the house up for "get ready for school".

I need to start getting up with them and getting to work on time (8:00 is when I would LIKE to land) ... We have SO much work pending right now that I could make overtime this week, if I had the endurance to work that many hours

But today I felt like everyone was tripping over me this morning at home and I was SO TIRED after lunch - literally almost nodding off at one point. So we're having a bumpy start but hopefully I will sort it out.

And with that, it's lights out time!

I'm a survivor

Picked up my shirt for tomorrow's walk / run... I actually got two, because I registered for the 5k AND the family walk with my kids. The volunteer shook her head at me and more or less said "no... Just register for the run next time". Oopsie. Oh well. That's just like me... But its for a good cause, and so on.

I got a little emotional when I saw the shirt, and on the way back to my car. I am happy to be on this side of all of my treatments but I'm in an odd mood about the shirt. I'm not sure I can wear it. (glitter aside. Ya know?)

I am actually wishing I could go away for a weekend all by myself and let a whole bunch of emotions out with anybody I know around, but that is a fleeting wish now and then, and it doesn't really mesh with the reality of my day to day life. So I guess I'll have to blog it out, a little at a time. Sorry, Internets.

(For the record, this picture IS in my car but this post was not typed while I drove. Because I didn't kick cancer's ass just to die texting in my car.)

October

Being breast cancer awareness month and all, I have to be honest. I have a love / hate thing with the pink ribbon.

Poly is nodding already but for the rest of you, I will try to explain my feelings. (I don't claim to speak for her, or anyone else who has had breast cancer. Your mileage may vary)

The ribbon is good because it is kind people with good hearts trying to reach fools like me who never dreamed they would ever have to worry about cancer, and educate us, and remind us to get the checkups we need even when we are unemployed and depressed.

It's people who want to encourage me to fight, giving me scarves and hats and so on... All with the ribbon- many kind gifts of loving support.

But the ribbon is a trigger reminder of all things unpleasantly included in the package deal that I never wanted and oh look, there's "why me" and a bunch of other things that well up. Fear and pain and needles and medicines and being the only one awake in the house at 4:12 a.m.

It's a reminder that my life is forever changed. It's something I'll always have to have in the back of my mind. Watch for recurrence. Take the drugs. Keep the followup appointments. I basically lost eight months out of my life to a disfiguring disease, and sometimes it's hard not to resent the ribbon as a tangible focal point for al of those issues.

People don't always recognize me, as I've blogged about, and some days I still don't feel quite like me. And now and then I brood while I palpate the dents and gaps and tattoo marks left behind. It's over in most people's minds, and I try not to linger in that part of my past, but I haven't quite escaped.

But I come back to thinking about the generosity of so many people in my life, and I am immensely grateful for my family and friends, as well as for the dozens of medical professionals I have encountered in the past year. Nothing underscores that quite as nicely as the viral video going around (just search for Pink Glove Dance, on YouTube ) - dozens of people just like the ones who took care of me... I love it and it makes me cry all at the same time.

My son is organizing a charity baseball game with his eighth grade class and I have to go there and be brave and try not to cry. I am proud, very very proud of them, but nervous about going.

It's October, and pink ribbon time.

Pachy

In a minor burst of insanity I offered to make a cake for a woman I know. I have sung with her for a few years in my choir, and we now work in the same company. This little guy will be on her baby shower cake, along with a fire truck. The cake will be a book shape, and also have a Tonka fire truck character named Chuck. (J is responsible for project work on some of the firefighter training units)

He needs a face. I need a cake board. And a box. And I need to not volunteer quite so much, perhaps.

Goodnight

I'll be sitting on my porch tomorrow... with streamers falling all round.

The party's over

Yipeeeee!!! Waaaaay too much pizza. Whatever.

Let them eat pizza

I have three large 24 cut pizzas and about a dozen teenagers here. I believe more of them are coming after the soccer game, but don't care much either way.

The cake is done; the colors are completely accidental but she likes them. The B-1-6 was Suzy's idea for B's sixteenth.

Another reason I love my job

Every day I empty this candy dish and they always fill it right back up. I love candy corn. :)

Arrrrrrrr

I be makin' brownies for me lad's birthday in the morn.

Yep. I've finally snapped.

Cleverly disguised

I went from salt and pepper hair to blonde, a couple of weeks ago. I didn't really like the washed out way my "it came back gray" hair made me look.

I'm kind of mourning the girl I used to be. She had spiky straight-ish reddish brown hair that people would compliment every so often (random strangers would tell me they loved my hair) and she never left the house in glasses. She had a salaried job, with five weeks paid vacation. She hated the job, but really. Five weeks. Bank holidays too. That's a post for some other insomnia party.

A consistent minefield (of course minefields are the most unpredictable thing... So is 'consistent minefield' an oxymoron like jumbo shrimp?) for me since the chemo took my hair lies in not recognizing myself in the mirror.

The wig was pretty. But it didn't look quite like my hair used to. Kinda longer, different shade, ...like I had skipped a hair appointment. But I didn't see myself in it all that much. Because when I was home, I was so much more comfortable (in the physical sense) without anything on my head.

But it's jarring to see yourself with no hair and think "that's me... I don't recognize me..." so that was four months worth of angst. And that was just the bald days, which were followed by Stubble Summer.

The blonde was an attempt to ease my way back in the direction I want to "head" ( hey, sorry for the puns, it's three something a.m.)

Which brings me to this week, with two school open houses. And me bumping into two sets of friends from those two school communities, 80% of whom didn't really know I was sick.

I have to mention, it has been wonderful getting hugs from loving friends - especially from the 20%, who knew what was going on, and are delighted to see me out and about and consistently say I look great. And I feel like I resemble a healthy person again.

But people don't recognize me. Especially from behind. I have short soft downy blonde curls. And glasses. Beautiful kate spade glasses, dramatic brown frames that most people have never seen me in.

So several times over at both schools I had to do the "yes, it's me... I know, the glasses... And my hair is finally growing back from the chemo...." (elaboration varies depending on face in front of me and includes some level of "I'm Fine" reporting as well, especially for people new to this topic)

This often is followed by the other person finding it nearly impossible not to stroke my soft blonde curls. Oddly enough I'm ok with that, and even slightly tilt my head, which is all the encouragement some people need.

So that helps, because I can laugh about some of this madness.

I want to see ME in the mirror and photos. Not this pleasant stranger with the shell shocked look in her eyes that I seem to see in every photo, no matter how many I take of myself.

I just want to feel like me again.

And if the elevator tries to break you down

Please enjoy my Top Ten Things I am Tired Of,  while I listen to Prince talking about getting through this thing called Life...

My damn nose that won't stop bleeding once a day. Bloody

Opening every drawer, cabinet, closet, etc and finding things that don't belong there, that got stashed while I was sick. Clutter.

My nails breaking off due to chemo. Still. They're about 80% grown out and sooo close but it's making me nuts. My big stupid big toe has been hurting for 3 days now. Split, Peel, and Crack is not just a rock band. Nails.

Feeling too tired to run. Not having time to run. Being embarrassed that I"m not really going to do the Komen run when I said I would. Feeling like a flop even though I'm just not physically up to it. So, running.

My achy breaky neck from my suddenly craptastic feather pillow, my aching shoulder blades from lifting 75 cans of soda, my aching shoulder from piping 500 blades of grass on my kid's birthday cake.  Achy

My stomach that is wonky from gall bladder removal adhesions and chemo and tamoxifen. Belly
 
Dancing with the Stars is starting... but with that stupid Palin kid and The Situation.   Sweet Monkey shit, tell me when both of them are gone.  Dance

My glasses that I can't see with , can't see without, don't sit straight on my face anymore... aaaagh! Going to eye doctor tomorrow so I can SEE.   Sea?

My fridge's icemaker decided to get stuck on "open faucet" yesterday... I opened the door and WAVES of water came out at me... four beach towels full. Thank god I wanted a cold drink just then.   Waves.

CYO basketball is also starting... which means Carly home alone every weekend trying to do all the housework/laundry/groceries ... this is the last year... this is the last year... serenity now.

So to review, bloody clutter nails running achy belly dance sea waves. Serenity now.

Or,    Go Crazy. Punch a higher floor.

Fall fell

It's 50*. Time for hot tea, heated car seats, fall colors on the trees and on my nails, crisp bright blue skies... Can't we keep this, and forget winter?

Sweet time

Waiting to feel normal again is hard.

Going blonde helped me emotionally, I was so discouraged whenever I saw a mirror and looked at my washed out, gray reflection. I don't quite recognize Blondie as me, but she is better than Granny. I kind of feel now that I don't look "sick" anymore to someone who doesn't really know me. I don't notice being stared at when I am in public anymore.

But little things like I can't lift a carton of soda cans without seriously trying hard... The daily nosebleeds, still, and the heartburn from tamoxifen...

They Suck. Poetic but true.

It is very hard to wait for your body to do what you want it to. I'm not running regularly because walking makes me winded and gives me leg cramps. So fabulous. But I keep trying; hopefully I will build up some strength.

All in good time.

Quitting time

This is really it. Sorry about my bloggoreah tonight. I made a little makeup case that may or may not make it on the cake...

Huh?

In a post below, you will find two pictures ... I swear I  had all this text in it!!!

The cake  is obviously professionally made (it's by www.cakemamas.com and I saw it on the Cake Wrecks blog). 

It did inspire me to do something along the same lines for my daughter. The second photo is my work from this afternoon and I am happy to say it's going pretty well. 

I really need Suzy for the piping that will make these pieces truly look like makeup - she will do a much better job on the lettering. I can't wait to see her - she's coming to visit soon. 

Tonight I plan to make a few brushes and maybe a makeup bag. We will see how ambitious I get. 

(I should post the mess on my kitchen table too....)

Almost done

Getting tired; made a couple of lipsticks that need a little bit of refinement.

Brusha brusha

(This photo was taken on my iPhone with ProCamera, which lets me adjust for my nonexistent flash...)

Here are the brushes for the cake. I started everything with two boxes of Wilton ready to use fondant. One is "natural colors" - light &dark brown, peach and black. The other was the pastel multipack with pink, blue, yellow & green. I marbled gel color into the blue (delphinium blue from the garden colors). I also have a bunch of pearl dust powders that I use to add some of the deeper colors on the pink/ blue / green etc, and some silver and a pearl one for shimmer.

By the way, rolled fondant tastes like crap. It's a weird sugary dough but not in a good sense. Just being honest. (Although my friend Poly makes her own, I believe, and I'm sure that tastes much better.) It's great fun to play with though.

Sunday art - sweet sixteen prep

Love, not hate

When I saw this picture on my friend's blog I felt the familiar wistful sadness. It's 9/11...

But this image was before all of the terror and chaos, and the immediate aftermath of the towers falling - the deathly silence with nothing but chirping locator alarms of hundreds of firefighters, seen in the movie documentary of that day, filmed by two terrified French photographers/ brothers who started the morning with a completely different project. Before Rudy's press conference statement that 'we will take care of all of the children whose parents don't come home tonight' which finally brought me from silent shock to sobbing, in front of my children no less.

On the day of this photo, people went to work and went home. Home to lovers or elderly parents or loneliness, home to make plans for exciting vacations or to worry about paying the bills. To doctors, to have prenatal care or cancer treatments or root canals. To church, to bars, to schools to prepare for a future they didn't have.

Nine years ago, but it seems like a lifetime.

All because of hate. If only the people of this world would stop hating each other for who we are, what we believe, how we live and love, and what kind of god we do or don't believe in.

If only some of these so called religious people filling the news nowadays truly WERE religious and acted out of love, not hate, so many things could be different. But so many people learned nothing at all on 9/11.

Today, show love, not hate, in all that you do.

Yum

The cooking demo tonight was Mediterranean cooking - the polenta with gorgonzola cheese was my hands down favorite. (I swear I considered stealing seconds...) It was served with a salad that had fennel and lemon; there was also a lamb stew, chicken with vegetables cooked in parchment, zuchini, and then peach crisp... Yum. I don't know if I will sleep tonight. But worth it. And it almost makes up for those four rounds of chemo when I ate chicken soup, and chicken soup, and chicken soup.

The guy next to me has been to Eric Ripert's restaurant in NYC and had the tasting menu. As he was describing it, that went on my "bucket list".

As I was saying

Before I was so rudely interrupted by work (software installed much quicker than I thought it would) I was going to mention that tonight I'm headed to a cooking class / demo. I can't remember WHAT kind of cooking(all hail, chemo brain) but I remember thinking it sounded delicious when my sister in law invited me. Film at 11, as they say.

I have taken great pains not to over- volunteer at my son's school this year, so I should have time to work on my own projects. Those would include a cookie book my daughter got at a culinary school she visited this summer (with the same sister in law, while I was sick). B and I are going to try new cookie recipes on a hopefully regular basis. I am working on slowly teaching my kids to cook.

It's a new school year here in upstate NY. What are your goals for something you'd like to learn in the coming months?

Back to school

Feeling excited about life again. Art, cooking, singing.

I was bummed out over the weekend about summer being over, but now today I feel very different. I'm excited for the big chunk of free time I have this weekend to sit at my art table and listen to whatever music I want.

Sentiment and lobsters

I had to buy the lobster rubber stamp in Hyannis. Yes I did. Ok, I did not. But it came in handy for the thank you note that goes with the picture frame gift I created the other day.

I used one of my favorite pictures from the trip on the front of the card. The strip of burlap across the bottom of the card is perhaps random but looks better in hand than in this photo

Inside I thanked her and tried to convey what I blogged about with the photo of the beach/waves - that this trip helped me to stop thinking about doctors 24/7 and feel more 'normal' again.

(I know - "C, you were never normal")

Sunday art

This is for the woman who loaned us her cottage for a few days last month in a lovely quiet part of Cape Cod.

I cleaned off my art table last night - we are having a family party today. My daughter has cleaned so much this week that she was wondering if she had wicked stepsisters that he didn't know about. I believe I actually sang "the prince is giving a ball" to her at one point.

My delightful neighbors (the ones who had a mattress against the back of their house one whole winter) we screaming and shouting at each other yesterday. You're an effing moron and your an effing a-h..... Really nice. At one point he bellowed "I don't care if the neighbors hear me!". You're right dipstick, we already dislike you, it doesn't matter. Please move.

At any rate cleaning up for OUR party allowed me to also have room on my desk to get this done. I am so horribly far behind on scrapbooking. Most of my photos for the second half of 2009 are not even printed.... Oh well. Plenty to do this winter. Plus I have paint and beads and plenty of other stuff to do on my nice clean desk.

A little secret

I bought a Keurig single serving coffee maker and we like it. It's fun. My son has been making iced coffees - future barista in college??

But it's crazy. Those fancy little plastic K-cups must be full of gourmet coffee grounds right? Full of instant coffee. Or tea. But with this you can use real coffee grinds or loose tea leaves...

Can't do it

One of the things cancer gave me was a knock on the head while it said "stop trying to do everything yourself and quit nitpicking how other people do things".

It started early on, after my first surgery when I could barely move my arms because of the lymph node biopsies. Someone sent us tons of great food and so we had friends over to help us eat so that it wouldn't go to waste. (Seriously, SO much food.) Later, one guy loaded the dishwasher - not in the prissy neat way I favored, with plates sorted out into tidy, neatly aligned zones.

He crammed so much stuff into that dishwasher, I thought he might have to nail it shut.

I quietly died, sitting there watching. Made mental notes to rewash things the next day. Except...

Of course everything was spotless.

I am reminded of that day because I am letting my kids do more for me these days. I'm trying to let them keep being the capable helpers they were while I was sick. Letting go and letting them grow up... So not easy.

Dear John

Fortunately this is not THAT kind of dear John letter.

Seven months ago I invaded your space. It's hard to sit about five feet to the right of a crazy girl, isn't it?

I get that we work in a test lab which is set up like a classroom because that's where all the pc's are. But these desks make me fidgety because they're a little too high, and there is no keyboard tray, and the old clunker monitor is a little too low and I can't adjust the angle. So I am up high but then I slump forward and lean on my one elbow and I shift and sigh a lot. Sorry about that.

The daily nosebleeds have let up pretty much - yay! I know you probably think I'm a total hypochondriac when I sneeze, blow my nose, and then use antibacterial gel. But you all use my pc's too, and I don't want to contaminate anything. Just so you know, I feel totally awkward whenever I put chapstick or hand lotion on, because I know you see me -- but that soap in the ladies room turns my hands into the sahara. I try not to overload you guys with perfumey moisturizers. But who is wearing old spice these days? I know it's not you.. And it's also not one of the new modern ones. It is the original version, the one I asterisk as Crusty Old Sailor.

Thanks for the nice emails you all sent after my surgery. I know I worked two weeks in January, then disappeared for a month. (Let's use that word "worked" loosely, since for the first three days I had no idea how to switch my monitor from one system box to the next. )

Thanks for not saying "what is your DEAL, woman?" when I cried all day because my hair was falling out from the chemo. Or when I adjusted the wig 12,000 times. More sighing. Hmm. You wear headphones a lot, don't you?

Thank you for not remarking on the bad chemo days when I dragged myself in around 9:15. I couldn't have taken so much as a jovial "it's about time!" some of those days.

Thank you for not making any snarky remarks when I left an hour or two early EVERY DAY FOR SEVEN WEEKS for radiation, and got most of the easiest assignments to help make that possible.

Thank you for not remarking on my personal thermostat issues. I know I come in some of these summer mornings bundled up - like yesterday, a shirt, sweater, denim jacket. The outer layers come and go all day long, don't they? And hotflashes!! I turn on my fan... And a few minutes later it's off. Good, good times.

I know I am like Tigger or something. Up to go get a drink, then of course to the ladies' room. Repeat, often. You just sit there and work, and you are somehow still able to smile at me - like when some fool can't get their snack out of the vending machine that is literally a thin wall away from you, and Fool starts crashing and rocking the machine, and we look at each other and just roll our eyes... You know you're more likely to die from a vending machine falling on you than from a shark attack, right? It's true. I read it on the Internets.

So anyway, I gotta get back to work

-Carly

(psych! It's Saturday. I'm gonna go out and plant some mums. But really, thanks man.)

Like when I see a full moon in a bright morning sky

Every now and then a little explosion goes off in my head and I realize that I really did it. I made it. I'm done- - I did every treatment that I had to do, and I'm okay now.

On August 1 we had a big celebration -all day long I got texts and e-mails, but this is something different. It kind of sneaks up on me when I'm not expecting it, and is just crazy happy cool.

Running around

I can't keep up with everything that I have to do to regroup after all of our mini vacations, get the kids ready for going back to school, AND celebrate both their birthdays all in one month. Also, the one who's going to be sixteen is all about her party, because, she's **sixteen** -- cue the confetti shower --so a separate friends party for each kid this year, not just a bounce house and an ice cream cake, and her cake request changes weekly.

To add to my joy she keeps bringing up DRIVING, which is about as likely right now as Sarah Palin and Michelle Obama going out for a girl's night out on the town.

(It's SO nice to be so much more normal and not be all about doctor appointments .)

I emailed my college roommate last night and fished about getting out of running the Komen 5k. Luckily, she is not one of those annoying perfect athletes who run triathlons for fun. We are going to do the walk that day instead. I have no energy and my foot is acting up again with its plantar fasciitis tricks. Sooo I haven't been running and I am stressing myself out about needing to run, so I haven't been walking either, which is not helping my energy deficit. Maybe I will turn this around- but the pressure is off for now.

I keep remembering the woman I saw a couple of years ago... and the crowd reaction to her. She was obviously just coming off of chemo and she was tough and I want to BE that woman, but I look around at the piles that have accumulated EVERYWHERE and it's stressing me out.

Sunday art

No photo can capture the peacefulness of watching the waves come in, as I sit at a safe distance, in the shade, looking out at the sky and the clouds.

From here I can't feel the sandy water rush forward around my feet, hiding them; I don't feel waves progressively larger crashing into my body and threatening to knock me down or drag me away.

I can hear the sounds, but they're not as loud as when I am in the middle of the water, with everything swirling around me.

I have looked forward to this trip since it was offered to us - because who doesn't want a few days at the beach? - but also because it signifies Done.

It was a distraction all through radiation - "...and then we're going to the cape."

Now here we are, and time has slowed to endless late summer days of exploring lighthouses (and P-town) and sitting on the beach.

I am letting go of the day to day battle of thinking about being sick every five minutes or less. No more undertow of activity around me with procedures and complications and struggling to get my head up out of one wave of chemo after another.

I am grateful to be alive and well, and just sitting looking at the waves.

Some time ago my friend's husband was in a horrible car accident that disfigured his face. She said to me, '...he doesn't look like David anymore'. I said, in what I meant to be kind (but now wonder if I was unintentionally cruel) "but he looks like who he is now, and you still have him". I don't like those words echoing back to me when I am looking into the mirror. But I know they are true. I don't look like "me" anymore, but I'm not who I was. But I still have me. I still get to BE me.

Hilarious!

I just love these coasters....

Dear blog

I'm sorry I haven't been writing to you, Internets, but in truth after getting back from Pittsburgh I was exhausted and then we went to Buffalo a weekend later. This allowed us to visit cousins who kissed me and told me I looked great and gave me margaritas. I *love* cousins like that

We met my sister to reclaim my offspring and drove home. So in about nine days, it was over 24 hours of driving if my math is close to right. It destroyed my back because, welll.... It was about time for me to have problems with that. My radiation sites are Much! Better! and something has to be an obstacle to my running on a regular basis.

Summer seems to be almost over. We are going to use a house in Cape Cod for a few days; it was offered to us free of charge due to my illness... Very, very kind. I'm bringing running clothes when we go- isn't full-blown denial cute?

Dear summer, I wish you wouldn't leave just when I am finally starting to feel up to having a little fun. Fall is not really my best friend.

Phipps

I took off for a few days to Pittsburgh, to see my sister. It wasn't exactly spontaneous - it's been in the works for a while, and I got worried that I might not be able to go when I was dealing with my most recent bump in the road.

But we did make it there, and we went to the
http://phipps.conservatory.org/

This summer they have gargoyles everywhere. I loved it. I was a little bit stressed out (briefly) because I am borrowing a digital SLR these days and I didn't think ahead to charge up the battery. So I could take a couple of pictures, but then I had to turn offend camera.

I decided to embrace the situation and really THINK before I clicked ... It's so easy with digital to take far too many pictures. So I was pretty happy with what I ended up with. I didn't quite get them to flickr yet... But this is one shot.

Fun and games

With feeling better comes feeling GREAT. Joyful. And silly.

My daughter got faint-y having routine bloodwork done yesterday - we've all been there right? I was able to get her to laugh through her tears of mortification and then when we agreed she was a hot mess, she cried "I want cheesecake!" So she got it.

I am not keen on hot flashes, but whenever I have one I laugh at myself a little bit. It's bizarre to be cool all over but feel like your head is being put into a paraffin dip.

Yesterday I found some mousse in the closet. It's been so long since I've used hair products. My daughter bought me some shampoo that enhances brunette shine and we both pretend it is making my hair darker instead of salt and pepper gray. So I put some mousse in my hands, rubbed it through my 1/8" hair and turned to beam at my girl. "whaddya think?" She laughed. I did too, because it made no visible difference at all - "nothing? NOTHING?" - my hair is still too short to even noticeably spike. Oy.

This post brought to you by a song....

I wanna celebrate and live my life, singing hey- oh...

Confidential

Dear Diva,
Please get well soon!

Love,
One of your many fans

Not so fast

So if you're the wincy kind, this post is not for you.

Radiation burns peak a few days after the end of treatment, from the cumulative effects. Dirty little secret! You're done. But you're going to hurt MORE next week! Congratulations! Thanks for playing!

Oh, and you will need to drink gallons of water to help your body try to repair all those cells. You will not stop being thirsty, 24/7. Cheers!!

Currently I get the sensation every few minutes that a long ultra thin needle is piercing my skin. I can be sitting very still and ka-chaaaaa!!! It's fun sitting with my droids and trying to remember NOT to grab my jumblies when I feel the piercing pain.

The burned, crispy skin is cracking, and here and there a slab lifts up and looks something like a bit of highway that didn't fare too well in an earthquake. Mother of pearl, it hurts when one of those attached flakes gets jarred.

Saline soaks are da bomb, yo. It was funny when Doctor blue eyes asked one of the newer nurses if she knew how to teach a patient to do saline soaks. She looked at him, looked at me and said, "here is the saline, you take some of this gauze... And soak it." Then she and I cracked up at the same time. Pour saline on gauze, and apply it to your parched desert skin, and admire how it soaks into the cells and makes them un-crispy... for a little while.

In other news, I apparently can not tolerate Aquaphor ointment, which they hand out at DBE's the way a dentist gives out floss. It turns my skin a weird flaming red. Zexy!

Good times! Maybe I should run off and join a carnival. I'll keep you posted on that idea.

Yipeeeee

My friends on Fb are celebrating with me today. I'm done! One of my friends even mocked up a few shirts for me.

Going out to the track and will celebrate everyday life, today and every day.

One last shot

I would have lost heart, unless I had believed
That I would see the goodness of the Lord
In the land of the living. -Ps 27:13

Can I just get through this month please?

Thursday I left work somewhat early; I wasn't feeling great. I had a fever spike to 101.6 during the night, and felt lousy all day Friday. Tired, achy, with fever coming and going.

My radiation sites were sore and I called the nurse line and couldn't make up my mind whether to go all the way down to that office, given that I had no energy and I had an appointment with my new primary care doc after lunch.

I was in tears at one point thinking "I just want to be DONE with all of this." I am tired of being sick; I want to feel better and get back to my life. Such a simple thing, but I am about at my limit, and believe me I understand that there are people with much more to deal with for much longer.

My new doctor didn't like the looks of things and did some bloodwork; she called me back at 9:30 to say that my counts weren't good and I probably have cellulitis. Do not google pictures of that on your phone while you are eating a snack, by the way.

She wanted me to go to the ER, to get IV antibiotics. Um, now? Yes. An ER at 10pm on a Friday night? Mr. Carly and I looked at each other and thought that sounded like the most fun EVER. Not. I was kicking myself for not going down to the oncology office IN THE DAYLIGHT.

He suggested I call my radiology oncologist's 24 hour number to see which hospital they recommended. On a Friday night. At 10 pm. When I had just been getting ready to go to SLEEP. So I called.

While I waited for the answering service to contact whoever was on call I started pulling out a few things I might need into a tote bag in case I ended up being admitted for an overnight "vacation". I was seriously dreading a long night ahead.

My favorite doctor in the group - the one that I normally see, he of the big blue eyes, called and cracked me up by announcing himself "hi, it's Todd." Lest you think I am completely smitten with him, my brother in law worked with him for quite a while and so he once remarked to a nurse that Mr. C and I are like family.

I told him my counts and he said Nooooooo you don't need to go to the ER tonight; I can call in a prescription to a 24 hour pharmacy. Ok, so at that point I would have to say I was a little bit smitten.

He said that if my WBC was below a 1 or if I was still in the middle of chemo I might have needed to go in, but he let me off the hook for now with instructions to call back if my fever got out of control.

I waited at home while Mr. C and my darling daughter went to fetch me some bigass Levaquin pills. Then I got to go to SLEEP in my own bed. Bonus.

So I am writing this from my couch, happily; I just woke up a little while with the help of my iphone and took some Tylenol and so far so good. Of course, now I'm wide awake. But the part about MY COUCH makes it ok.

Dear cancer, please leave me alone now. Kthanks.

Sneaky droids

My boss sent me an email the other day asking me if I wanted to go out to lunch today. She is a contract employee like me, and doesn't have a corporate expense card to whip out for these occasions, so I really appreciated it.

Today I woke up not feeling great. Tired, achy, and so on. Almost like I had a touch of the flu. I made some toast and tea and dragged myself in.

It's been quieter in the office since we got rid of the new guy. He had started well after me, and didn't catch a clue to be as quiet as possible since six of us were sharing a workspace. He was taking cell phone calls literally all day long for a business he was running on the side. Noisy and obnoxious, and my droids and I couldn't stand him. We started to log his coming and goings and phonecalls and then we proved he lied on his timecard. Buh bye! Never piss of a bunch of geeks.

One of my coworkers is an EMT and he keeps an eye out for me. We had a conversation about his dad, who went through radiation, and how the effects can linger. He suggested that maybe it would be best for me to leave midafternoon, and take tomorrow off since I have a doctor appointment in the afternoon, and I was only going to be in the office about three hours anyway.

For me the last few treatments were a "boost" concentrated on the location of the tumors. I think they are catching up to me a bit. I didn't eat much yesterday, and I am supposed to be eating extra protein to help my body repair itself. I'm dragging.

So I stopped in to see my boss. One of my lunch friends was there and she kind of gave me a weird look (she's a project manager who works with us) and then she left. I was thinking about leaving then, but I chickened out.

I told my boss I'd probably leave early and then we talked about where to go for lunch. It was really quiet the rest of the morning and when I went to go meet her at lunchtime I didn't realize that no one seemed to be around.

She and I walked into the restaurant and there was a table filled with my entire team, grinning from ear to ear. They got me. They had all been sneaking out to get to the restaurant before me, and I hadn't even noticed. Gotta watch those droids!

They bought me lunch and gave me a card and told me they'd been planning this for a while. I promised them that pretty soon I would stop slacking off and do more work. Love my geeks!

Normal isn't

Today I got up, went to work, then home for dinner. Now I am sitting on my porch. It's a cool summer evening and there are thunderstorms somewhere off in the distance.

Note the absence of waiting rooms and treatments in my day. Sweet.

It hasn't truly set in that I'm done, even though my chemo oncologist said "you can go back to your life" last week when I asked him if I could train for a 5k. (I didn't run today. Too hot. I'm tired and still a little burned from treatments; that will last a couple of weeks. But I don't have to GO THERE. )

Every day for the last eight months has pretty much been dominated by having cancer. Go to this appointment, go to that one. Recover from one part of the process and get ready for the next.

I don't have to go to the doctor for a whole MONTH, internets! Awesome.

Leaving it behind

Today is my last radiation treatment. Shhhh. Don't tell the other people on facebook. I started a countdown to August first a while back, assuming I might have some hitch or misstep but surely I would be done w radiation by the end of this week. So Sunday will be about celebrating being lucky and happy to be alive and will be the anniversary duly noted, hopefully for many years to come.

Today will be it for treatments though. My adorable doctor with big blue eyes bid me a happy graduation yesterday and laughed at a funny story about my brother in law (who used to work with him. I don't just tell random stories ya know... Well not to my Dr at least...)

I brought this table to the waiting room as an offering... I asked first of course. They were delighted.

Now when other people sit and do puzzles, it won't be on two mini end tables pushed together with the puzzle falling in the gap.

I am trying to declutter my family room. I've been mentally rearranging it in my head over and over the past eight months while I have sat on my couch waiting go feel better. The table has to go, even though I think it's beautiful. We painted the fireplace white, and it looks awesome. More to come on all of that.

I wrote a little hidden message in sharpie on the bottom of the table. In tiny letters... I wrote something someone said to me, the day I got my diagnosis.

Happy, happy, fight.

Sunday Art - Birch

bark
Originally uploaded by carlyq80

This is my favorite image that I photographed today (I participated in something called the World Wide Photo Walk. There were only two other people who signed up to walk with me. Drew had agreed to be my assistant... but hey, you got to concentrate on your own pictures!) So my speech as walk leader was rather short and I forgot to say that flower photos don't win contests.

(That was advice given by a walk leader last year, who then chose a picture of a bee landing on a flower as his walk's winning photo. I had a great flower picture I didn't enter because of the snarky.)

It was rainy today and I was annoyed by that. Can't win them all. Overcast weather does cut down on glare, I can say that. Downtown Bennington is a little bit dreary. Lots of empty buildings. I'd like to win the lotto and go in there and turn the town on its ear, but step one would be to bring in a Starbucks and then the locals would REALLY hate me.

I dragged my family along. My daughter brought along her friend, who had never been to Vermont (we live less than an hour from Bennington). She bought a stuffed animal and tried to trick me by pretending that she had found a live kitten. I almost fell for it. That right there kind of sums up some of the more random parts of the day, but it was a nice break from the endless round of treatment visits.

I can't help but wonder if this image is the one I am most drawn to because I, too, am peeling. But that's a post for another day.

An uneasy truce

So. It's one of those "one step up and two steps back" situations, or is it the other way around?

I have an uneasy peace with the bald, which exists because I try not to look at it or think about it very much.

I got used to being in the wig. In part, because it kind of looked like my hair. It fooled a lot if people.

When I look at photos of the day I shaved my head, I look - to me - a little bit shell shocked. But the photos of the wig looked enough like I really did still have hair.

It sank in as time went by. I would catch sight of myself in the mirror at home and remember that my hair was gone. I wore the wig one or two times when it was HOT because I couldn't stand to have certain sets of people see me in bandannas.

Then I started with bandannas during my daily Starbucks stops ; getting used to people noticing. I worked up to going in there bareheaded. Trying not to look down immediately after catching someone's eye. Adults notice, blink, and look the other way to give you space. Kids don't. It makes me a little sad when I can see that I kind of scare a kid. Because unusual and different can be scary: the big eyes give it away. Then they reach for Mom's hand and the fault line through my heart splits a little bit wider. Only the earth doesn't swallow me up, and I stand there, waiting my turn in line.

If I am having good day and I say a cheerful "hi" with a smile, about half of the time a woman will say hi back. The ones that don't, I figure are distracted / bitches / or lost someone or I remind them of sadness or something they fear. So I know it's not personal. It's kind of unavoidable. And for the record, Starbucks barristas are pretty cool, usually. Very kind. And a venti iced classic black tea with a splash of lemonade gets me through the tiring drive down one highway, over another, and then back home.

But it still sucks when I see that awkward glance. Today the bitchy little miss perfect who sits near me sort of sniffed down her nose at me in the bathroom. Kind of a thought cloud over her head that "I would never be caught dead in public with hair like that". She of the long, shiny fabulous hair that makes my heart ache. But apparently she HAS NO HEART because common compassion would dictate that when a chick who is obviously sick says hello to you in a ladies room when you walk in and stare at her, FUCKING SAY HELLO.
Again, she's bitchy, so I don't give her much weight, most days.

But I went to lunch today and this woman that I really do like was there. I havent seen her since I stopped wearing bandannas to work last week She's sweet, and I know it came from kindness, but she went overboard telling me how cute it is (my fuzzy head) and how much she likes it and I should keep it short and not color it.

The thing is, I don't want it to be lunch conversation. It's an elephant in the room for me all the time now. It made me really blue. I don't WANT it this short and everyone is sweet but I would still MUCH rather have it my old color and old cut. I guess that's why it stung. Don't praise it as a style choice because I really had no choice, and I am really just tired of wearing the wig and it's 90 degrees every day.

Don't try to convince me it's cute, because I will really never believe. I just want my own hair back, but I have to wait.

Fortunately, I seem to have the luxury of having time to plan on growing it back.

Dreams

I've had the dream before.

I'm at college on my first day and I can't find my schedule; I am late for class and I don't even know what class I should be in or where I should go. I'm frantic and floundering and doing stupid things, like washing my hair while a bus waits for me

I've had the dream when concerns simmered about a new phase or major event in my life approached. Anxiety about being ready and capable has processed itself in my subconscious, again and again over the course of my life.

This time it was different.

I dreamed that I was packing - to graduate from college and move on.

There was some sort of stupid television show or movie on, but I walked away from it and didn't care. I'm learning not to get all caught up in some people's little squabbles and drama. Not to worry about what certain people say. Noise in the background that I've learned to ignore and just get on with what's really important in life. Not that I'm really perfect at that... The tv WAS on, and I was still listening. ;-) I just wasn't letting it dominate my attention.

There were people in the dream, vague roommates and acquaintances, and I was interacting with them and hugging them and so on, but they weren't people I recognized from my "real" world. I assume that they were there to represent my medical people and fellow patients. People who I'm fond of but will be moving on from.

There was some sort of little wire box. It was empty. I'm not sure if it was for letters(old school with stamps and all that) or makeup. But it was empty. Wait- there were two. So maybe both. I could happily do without any more mail - no more bills. No more bad news. Pack up THAT mailbox please. As for the empty makeup holder, I guess that shows me not hiding how I look anymore, finally pretty much comfortable. (but I still DO want hair! I kept that container in the dream, sort of an "I will still need that" decision- I mean, I still want to look nice!)

So, this is what having to wake up at five a.m. gets me. An awareness that I really AM close to the end of this part of my life, and SO ready to move forward again.

How funny that the alarm clock woke me up before the end. And I'm not just talking about a dream, this morning. Cancer was the alarm clock. It woke me up, in many ways.

Aloe? Is anyone there?

I am mighty tired of using Aloe to keep my skin from crunching and blistering. What I'm tired of is actually the waiting around for it to dry...

I have about a week and a half to go but the official countdown is to august first so that I'm SURE I'll be done with radiation. My collarbone doesn't look great but suggests that I'm clumsy with a curling iron (which is funny because I have 1/8" of hair ... Are you with me, Internets?)

Charting my progress

This graph shows how I've been feeling... better every day. Taken on my iPhone and edited with photogene which I use on almost every photo to crop, straighten, adjust levels, etc.

I am so fortunate that my biggest challenge so far during my radiation treatments has been a small radiation burn on either side of my collar bone.

The fatigue is not bad and I was just debating going for a quick walk/ run before it gets too hot.

Yesterday I talked with the wife of a man I see at most of my radiation treatments. He gets the mask... If you need radiation to the head or neck, the techs make a custom mesh mask fittied to your face, and then for every treatment they... (deep breath)... fasten it to the table so that you don't move at all (the radiation needs to be aimed VERY precisely).

My heart aches for all of the masks I see just in this ONE treatment room. And my hat is off to M who is brave enough to get on that table 33 times. All I have to do is lie there with my arms over my head. And sleep.

Tech savvy safety for those damn kids

Here are a few tidbits I'd like to share with you so we can all try to keep our kids out of trouble. Because it's summer and they're all sleeping until 11:00 a.m. and then causing all sorts of mayhem, while we are hard at work earning money to pay for their sweet sixteen birthday parties.

#1 Change your iTunes password TODAY. Consider taking your credit card information out of your profile for a little while. Or switch to buying gift cards.

While Apple has been putting the best spin on the iPhone 4's not sooo gooood antenna, hackers have been quietly stealing passwords and selling them, and the media just can't bear to cover TWO iStories at once. My friend got hit for HUNDREDS of dollars over the July 4th weekend. Gawker had a story about this a week or two ago. Apple won't care if your credit card info is fraudulently used, Moms. That will be up to you to sort out with the bank.

#2 Tell your kids NOT to put "we're going on vacation!" as their status on Facebook. Because nothing says "come steal all of my mother's jewelry and drink my father's booze" quite so clearly. You like the family jewels, right? Well, he won't let you near them if someone comes in and drinks all of his booze.

#3 Set up your Wii to stream movies from netflix over your wireless router, as a peace offering to the little darlings BUT *set parental controls* (just search for that phrase in the online help) or your kids will watch the Flavor Flav Roast long enough to see him get called a feece with teeth, or something equally horrible that you don't want them to repeat at Catholic school in the fall.

#4 Mention that texting to Canada is really, really expensive. Because it is, even with unlimited texting. Don't ask me who my boss's son was texting. It was $80 in one month or something crazy like that.

#5 Remind your kids that sexting is bad. On a completely unrelated topic, my radiology team joked after they drew circles on me(see my previous post) that they were taking pictures of me for medical records, but also for the Internet. And I may or may not have sent an actual photo of me to my sister (with headlights covered, thank you). She may or may not have replied that either a toddler got to me with a sharpie while I was "sleeping" or that someone drew a drunk stick man's face on me.

#6 I've also read that in airports, people smarter than me are setting up connections that look like the airport's free Wifi but actually run through their own laptops, to let themselves see everything you're doing. They can steal your important data and passwords, and not just the strange picture you're sexting to someone. Ahem. I'm sure there are stories about this on Snopes that will definitively answer whether this is true.

#7. Don't let your kids tell you that you need to buy the complete collection of DVDs of LOST to get the 12 new minutes the producers wouldn't give us in the 12 hour finale. It will be on the individual season 6 DVD set also, and I love you Hurley,...

This is how I look now

So... today at my radiation appointment the technicians prepared me for the final frontier... I mean phase.

From now on I will no longer have radiation over the entire surface of... each... you're with me, aren't you?

For the remainder of my treatments the radiation will be targeted much more specifically to the incisions from my surgeries. So today the doctor supervised and techs drew on me. Seriously, my upper torso LOOKS LIKE THIS.

They used some form of permanent marker to make lovely circles, put an x in the middle of each, and marked the end of each incision with dots. Giant sloppy circles. It's REALLY charming.

By the way, yes, I glitter in the sunlight.

Puzzles

At my radiation oncologist's office there is always a puzzle laid out on the coffee table in the waiting room. This is the one that we just finished, and it's one of my favorites. Vegas, baby!

The puzzles serve as a steady distraction, if a patient is alone in the waiting room. No fretting about that walk past the big vault door. Lose yourself in finding the blue piece with a bit of white on one edge, and the minutes fly by.

They are also an icebreaker. We greet each other and marvel at how much got done after we left yesterday, or complain that we are STILL doing this one; we hunt for that elusive piece that will complete an entire area, or laugh at how some people can pick up a random piece and just KNOW where it goes.

It's very different from my chemo experience, where I never really saw the same people from one visit to the next.

In a crazy twist of fate, someone who used to be one of my higher up managers is there every day with her friend, another woman I knew from the bank. So our familiarity has drawn other people into the circle of conversations. We are a lively, rowdy bunch, having fun while we eradicate those last wicked little cells surgery and chemo may have left behind.

I'll never be able to look at a 1,000 piece puzzle again without thinking of the people I've spent the last few weeks with.

Whoopsie

This was supposed to be the photo for the Crazy Butterfly post

:::glares at iPhone :::

Crazy butterfly

I came home after radiation, stopping at my least favorite place, the supermarket. The clerk stuffed all my bread in one bag and it was like I never got any time away from that chore.

It's a little bit rainy, but I'm sitting on the porch and laughing at this crazy ass butterfly... It has been swooping around my deck area in circles for ten minutes now and finally landed on the gutter.

Yo, butterfly ... Stop throwing yourself at my screen windows.

Home stretch

I am entering the home stretch of my radiation treatment - for the next two weeks I have appointments at 3:30 every day. After this Friday to radiation field goes down to just the incision sites, so that will give my itchy sore skin a break too.

On the way home I was plotting simply eating the rest of the maple cream with a spoon, when I remembered I had some snack cup sized portions of diced peaches, and biscuit mix. Not as good as real fresh peaches, but not a bad idea!

I did a very scientific process of making a batch of batter, adding the peaches, then adding more mix until it looked right.

Baked until they looked done - as i said, very scientific. Drizzled lots of maple cream over the warm biscuits.

Yum yum yum. Awesome.

Dinner

Yum, I so happy that it is summer and food tastes good again...

This

This is a lovely nonstick grill pan.

This was in my cupboard, neatly put away by my child.

This probably came out of the dishwasher.

This is NOT clean, at all.

This is why I will eat so much maple cream tonight,....

Yum

Pioneer Woman's cookbook has been on my coffee table since right before I got sick. Today we got peaches at the farmer's market and I made PW's peach crisp with maple cream.

Oh. My.

I could eat the whole batch of cream. Just give me a box of Graham crackers and go away.

This shows the peaches with only about 1/3 of the crumble mix. Can't wait to have this later!

And just like that

I am a runner again. This is a shirt I bought at the Susan B. Komen run a couple of years ago. I put it on today and did a very easy beginner's run of 2/3 walking. Just one minute "bursts" of a gentle jog here and there, with iPod and water bottle. It's in the low 70's and breezy and overcast so this was perfect running weather.

It's pretty much the only pink ribbon I can tolerate. You might not understand if you haven't been sick, but it's too close for comfort to see that ribbon sometimes.

It tends to be a visual reminder of that first panicky wave of "I have cancer?!" and feelings bubble up about "Why is it always on my mind... and now there are cute ribbons in my face too, should I manage to forget for a minute." A tangible thing to focus my hatred of the disease upon, ...and anger at the frustration of having to interrupt my life for the past six, no, seven months and letting this dictate my agenda to me despite things I'd rather be doing.

It's just a little pink ribbon. I know how much good it does, truly. That's why I bought the shirt when I was healthy. Because of the ribbon, I went to Look Good Feel Better, and I did and I do... I just wish we didn't need pink ribbons and that breast cancer had never knocked on my door.

Hi ho

I'm really over this whole "off to work I go" thing. A bunch of us at lunch were wondering why some angry feminists we never even met screwed up our deal of being able to sit home all day and watch soap operas and wear our pearls and stuff.

But it was just that kind of day. Short work weeks seem to torture us somehow, don't they? And one coworker flapping his wings... or gums... can make ripples of annoyance that spread outward, and then people waste more time complaining about him keeping them from concentrating on their work, and then the annoyed become annoying. Managers have to deal with keeping the peace on the playground.

Corporate America is highly overrated.

Why have I not won the lottery yet? It's something like $72 million right now.
Time to go to sleep dreaming of how I would spend that!

Thank yous

In chronological order, I think:

• thank you to the lady who walked into the first floor bathroom as I was about to put the wig on to go upstairs. She told me I didn't need it, it's too hot today (over 100* around here) and when I started to cry she asked if she could give me a hug, and then talked to me until I felt better, and told me where she worked in case I needed to talk again
• thank you to "the cool kids" who took me into their club at lunch a few months ago, and have been watching over me like mother hens... and, uh, roosters. Today they complimented my "doo rag" / bandanna, which has dragonflies all over it, and then decided I needed a biker name if I am going to wear bandannas to work like a biker chick. They will now be calling me Margarita, and I need to remember to answer to that.
• thank you Starbucks, for overpriced ice teas with a splash of lemonade on a hot day, because that little "treat" makes going to radiation a little bit more bearable every day, and by the way your tiny donuts with pink icing are not bad either
• thank you to the eye doctor's assistant who will be squeezing in an appointment for me this week so that I can try to find out what that weird bubble is on the white of my eye.
• thank you to the technicians who noticed me crying when they came back into the room to reposition the machine for the second pass, and asked what was wrong, which made me cry more... but they actually did want to do whatever they could for me. She commiserated with me when I explained about a conversation I'd had on the way there, that "Oh, (people) can be quite upsetting sometimes." He told me that actually, when he tattooed me, each dot was a design... you just have to look with a magnifying glass to see a rose, a star, etc... they're just dots... but he got me kleenex and made me laugh and didn't sigh about needing to finish the treatment
• thank you to my doctor, who is kind of hot actually, but I can't contemplate that because I have to flash him at regular intervals, because he encourages me at every visit about how well my treatments are going, and he told me today that I probably won't need a PET scan, and explained why, just as patiently as he answers all of my other random questions.
• thank you to my friend, who listened to me cry AGAIN today about my stupid bald head and my nails that are peeling off, and when I said "I just want to be normal again" said that it was difficult to refrain from the obvious joke, but seeing as I have cancer and all, would not tell me I was never normal
• thank you to P, who understands that whole deal that made me cry on the table and didn't say "hey, at least you didn't fall asleep today". Come on, I know you were thinking it.
• thank you to my children, who do dishes and laundry, so I don't have to. Wait. They still don't know I have a blog. Nevermind.

thank you, thank you. I am so lucky, to have so many people be kind to me, in the midst of all this dreck.

Another iPhone shot

This one is called "It's hot and I'm thirsty again"....

Venti iced classic black tea with a splash of lemonade and one pump of sugar syrup. Gone in the blink of an eye on this hot, hot day.

Inspired by my online photo class assignment, but not shot with my "real" camera.

As they say, sometimes the best camera is one you have with you. I used an app called CinemaFX to transform the image to the "Egyptian gold"en glow you see here. The app has a definite Twilight flair, as at least two of the styles/ themes relate to vampires... but I like it. You can instantly preview your original shot with all of the styles, select the one you like, and adjust the level of the change before applying.

Star Spangled Banner

I watched Archuletta sing a forgettable cover of our anthem just now, and had to pull up Whitney on YouTube to show the young whippersnappers what a real singer used to be able to do with that song.

Still gives me goosebumps....all these years later. Here it is on YouTube:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1h9NN5FhJ7I&feature=youtube_gdata

In other news, our grilling was a flaming sort of fail tonight but a least no bombs burst in air... Or propane tanks.

Chocolate covered cherries are salvaging my mood...

Sunday art - traditions

Third time trying to post this... Three strikes you're out, blogger.

My wonderful friend sent me a gift certificate to enroll in a class at Big Picture Scrapbooking. Today's assignment was to capture how I spend my fourth and the traditional things we associate with it.

For me the fourth of July weekend wouldn't be complete without going up to the sweltering hot choir loft to perform this song with Bette and Stanley. I love that the music cost only fifteen cents... Everything about this piece of music says "America" to me.

Thanks again A !

Separation anxiety

My eyelashes have almost all fallen out.

My eyebrows are rapidly falling out too.

Now, parts of three of my fingernails have separated from the nail bed, so I've had to clip them because they catch on things otherwise.

I am SO discouraged. I have been done with chemo for almost EIGHT weeks and I feel like it's getting worse instead of better. And I just want to BE better. I want so badly to be done, to be free of all of these aftershocks. To take a shower without missing my hair. To look in the mirror, without sighing and reminding myself that it's what's on the inside that counts. To walk through the market without having to decide whether to be too hot in the wig, quirky in a print scarf, or very conspicuously fuzzy bald. I'm tired of noticing people notice me.

Tired of having people walk into the ladies room while I am moving the wig from side to side, making a futile attempt to make it sit more comfortably. Or worse, they walk in while I have it off, and I am rubbing the indentations it leaves on my head. It's juuuuust tight enough to leave marks, no matter what I do. (I'm thinking of feeding it to a paper shredder, at the end of this, by the way....) So they don't know what to do or say, and they say nothing.

This is Threat Level Yellow. We've passed the point of music cheering me up. I'm going to have to watch The Hangover, because it's the only thing that I think will make me laugh right now. Sitting here crying isn't going to grow these nails back. Stupid chemo.

My weekend plans

...are something like this.

Ok, well, not really. But, relaxing on the porch, doing some art,
grilling some ribs...

I may or may not go down to see fireworks. Finding the parking at the
festival running all day may be a deterrent.

Enjoy your holiday... Wear a helmet, don't let your kids blow their
little fingers off, and kiss a soldier to say Thanks.