October

Oct 30

My silence here is mostly because I’m busy–very busy–living my life.  I seem to be in a season where I don’t have time to write it down.  Part of that is choices: my beloved (and I do mean B.E.L.O.V.E.D.) “stable, NED” cancer status means that I’m not actively wrestling with mental battles.  Writing is my way of processing and healing; I’m feeling whole, grateful, hopeful and peaceful.  I often have blog posts shoot through my mind, but I sacrifice them for other priorities: a healthy meal, time with my daughters, a phone call, a stronger body, sleep.  I do miss writing.  The stories are there, stored in my heart; they are whispers for another day.  One day, when both girls are in school full time, I hope I write my book.  At that time I’ll start with the “draft” blogs: the ones that were never “finished” to press publish.  There are a lot of those.  Most importantly, one day, when my girls are in school full time, I’ll remember these days that linger and wander.  They’re filled with snuggles and playtime and leisure and messes.  Glorious messes sort of sums up life at home with small children. It’s Pinktober, which strikes a miss mash of feelings inside me.  I remember the autumn before I was diagnosed I saw the Bengals play and marveled that they had pink equipment: gloves, socks, shoes, helmets, jerseys, banners, flags, t-shirts, hats, etc. all emblazoned in pink with the pink ribbon.  At that time I remember thinking “Good grief, what if they actually spent that money they spent on equipment on breast cancer research/treatment/patients?  How for would those dollars go?”   That sentiment echoes as I wander through stores and see pink ribbons affixed to everything that will hold still.  It’s a bit numbing to me–a person who has the worst type of the disease to see it everywhere.  I seem to disappear in the pink sea.  I guess I just hope that the pink ribbons and the good intentions actually do lead to dynamic research/funding/change for patients like me. October also means that it is the high holy season of dress-up.  Greta thinks it’s fabulous.  She’s worn her costume(s) to the oncology office,...

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Oh, the magic

Oct 06

Oh, the magic

Darn it if that Disney magic isn’t legit. I am pretty much an expert in all vacation-y things after Vacation Palooza 2014.  It’s been an epic year.  And Disney held up to the very high standard I have for FUN. We’ve just returned from our latest hurrah, wherein Brad and I took Maren and Greta to Disneyworld with Brad’s family. In addition to we four, we had Brad’s parents, his brother and sister-in-law, and their kids.  It was a spectacular week traveling as a party of eleven.  We are a family with lots of love between our miles. And also, the adults repeatedly high-fived each other that we kept the adult-to-kid ratio in our favor. The kids were in heaven.  My sister-in-law made awesome autograph books for all of the kids for when they met the characters, so we all had fun tracking down our favorites.  The kids were in awe.  It was the perfect year to take the cousins aged 7,6, 5, 5, and 3: Maren was still enthralled and put on her little kid hat so that she could believe the fairy tales.  Greta bought into it completely; after we listened to Story Time with Belle, she was in tears because she thought that she should spend the night with Belle in Belle’s castle and she could just seetherestofusinthemorningthankyouverymuch.  The boys were in heaven with their Daddy, and Uncle Brad, AND Grandpa to dote on them.  The girls were princess-ified at the Bibbity Bobbity Boutique and could not have imagined a better treat.  Their five little faces were so awesome, and made all of the crowds and rain and heat worth it. See?  Magic.  Thanks for a great vacation...

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Routines

Oct 06

Routines

I’m back in the Chemo Room right now, which means I’m confined to a recliner and an IV pole for the next several hours.  It’s one (more) thing I love about the Chemo Room: no lists, no rush, no To Do’s.  I’ve got time to use my brain. It’s an early day in the Chemo Room.  Oncology doctors, like all doctors, tend to cover their hospital rounds (very) early and then see office patients later.  It’s rare for me to get an appointment before lunch.  (Doctors have long work days–especially the good ones like mine.) Today is the day that I get all of my cancer-fighting oncology drugs: -Faslodex is a shot I get every four weeks. It’s 10mL of gelatinous fluid injections, 5mLin each cheek.  Yes, it hurts. -Herceptin and Perjeta are IV biological drugs that get dripped in through my port.  I’m ten minutes into my 2+ hour drip right now. This morning I also drank my cancer-fighting juice: I blend up carrot, beet root, bok choy, kale and broccoli in my blender, strain/squeeze it through mesh bag and drink the 24 oz of juice that I’m left with.  It’s a recipe I got from Dr. Clean–he’s been a great resource in wellness for me.  He and others recommend adding a granny smith apple to the mix to take the edge off, but my theory is that the apple would make it taste only slightly less terrible, and there would also be more volume to consume.  I prefer it in it’s power-packed form.  (Sometimes I don’t have all five ingredients on hand, so I’ll sub out spinach, celery, broccoli sprouts or whatever vegetables I have in the fridge.) Truth: it does not taste good.  Truth: it’s really good for me.  I don’t know who is more surprised that I’m drinking this concoction, me or my parents.  I was always the picky eater, but I stand by the fact that most of my issues were textural.  The fact that I can drink this stuff is evidence in that camp.  It feels good to make healthy choices, so that’s what I’m trying to do.  My blender is one of the best purchases we made; I use it daily, sometimes multiple...

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