Down to the end

Well we are approaching the finish line. I'm pretty sure I can now count on one hand how many herceptin infusions I have left. I think it's three but, it looks like it might actually be four bringing the end Sept 13th. Some controversy amongst the nursing staff so on the 7th I will be seeing the big guy Dr. Barth and find out. And also feel out what's on my plate for the future as far as follow up frequency.

In the mean time I'm still on a job hunt.

And contemplating life.

I just want to get up in the morning, go to a job, do the best I can and feel I contributed, go home and be with my family. Be the best person I can be. Be a good mother, daughter and friend.

Seems like a reasonable and obtainable goal.

I know, I know I'm already doing these things except for the job part. But, there's this weird misplaced twisted guilt thing that happens when you have walked through fire. You feel like you have dragged many through the fire with you. And I have, although I know those that have gone with me wouldn't have it any other way. And even though rationally I didn't ask for the disease, I still feel responsible for putting those in my life through this whole horrific ordeal.

Rationally I know it's all twisted up but emotionally there it is.

Well, the xanax should be kicking in a minute.

Martha Stewart Died

I have a canvass covered gazebo. This past winter the canvass bit the dust. The weather just shredded it. So I looked into getting another one. And the thought just frustrated me because I already know what will happen to the new one. Okay, not right away but, eventually it will be a shredded mess of it's former self too. So I thought I would just go to a fabric store and get something cheap, if possible and sew something up that could be easily removed when the winter canvass shredding weather showed up again.

Then my mother asked me if I wanted these king sheets in a tropical print, she was getting rid of. Oh yes I do. And I decided to use those to cover my gazebo.

I sewed the king sheets together. She had two sets. I sewed the flats, trimmed the elastic off the fitted and sewed them together.

Today I took those sheets out to the back yard and draped them over the gazebo securing them with magical binder clips.

And when I was done I sat under my sheet draped gazebo and wondered at the magic of it all and thought when did Martha Stewart die?

There was a time that draping my gazebo in sheets would have been a horror of an idea to me. Visions of white trash would have filled my mind. Yes. It's true. I will confess. There would have been no way in hell I would have draped sheets on my gazebo. But, here I am. And the gazebo is magical. As I stood under the sheets, the wind would blow through and the sheets would billow up and drift back down. And it hit me. It a ginormous sheet fort! And all these feelings from being inside a sheet fort as a kid came rushing back. It was always a cozy safe feeling place those magical sheet forts.

I'm not sure when I started chucking the Martha Stewart in me. I think it has been a slow process and largely I haven't openly acknowledge it happening. But, with sheets blowing in the wind in my backyard, I'm saying it's official.

Martha Stewart R.I.P.

Are you a parent?

Maybe you never said it out loud but, you thought it. You know you did.

Disaster Preparedness

While on a walk this morning with amazing Amanda, we got to discussing disaster preparedness. I'm not sure exactly how to prepare for a disaster. When the "big" one comes we are all going to be basically up shit creek.

This so called preparedness is just another false sense of control. But, anywho I have my camp gear. Tent, tent shower and etc. It is stored in my garage and can be accessed fairly easily and is well protect in the event of a disaster. I just figure if I can't stay in my house, my ass will most likely be toast anyway. But, well I have a tent. Makes me all warm and fuzzy in a total lie of oh let the "big" one happen I've got my tent, I'll be fine, bring it, way.

No, I'm not stocked up on food and water. And I'm not going to stock up on those items. As I explained to Amanda, I live within easy walking distance of a 7-11. Yep. My disaster plan involves looting. But, then Amanda reminded me that I also live within walking distance of a Winchell's Donut shop. Yeah baby, I'm hitting up the donuts first. Big, one comes, I'm running to Winchell's' snagging all those donuts, then the Plow Boys grocery store and then the 7-11.

I have several shovels. I can have my son carry one and dig out dinner.

So, I'll have shelter, a tent shower and nearby foraging (looting).

Now I really do need to get a luggable loo.

Who am I?

So, the other day my cherished Bequi says to me "Pam, you have to accept that not everyone can take in an amassed amount of information and just go, here." And she holds out her hands. I said, "you mean they can't bottom line it?" We were talking about making breast cancer decisions. Yes. I took in a ton of information including what my doctors had to say and made a clear cut decision on what I wanted to do. And I haven't looked back. I'm as solid in those decisions today as I was a year ago. And isn't that what everyone does? No. No it isn't. So, where has this ability come from? This has been swirling around my brain for the last few days and this is what I've come up with.

I've always had a strong sense of self. Of who I am. A strong autonomy. Sure as I've matured my opinions have changed. Views, beliefs, attitudes and etc. but, the core of who I am has remained the same. Much like a tree, I have a solid trunk and roots. The branches have swirled around in the changing wind and my leaves have dropped and re-grown but, the trunk and roots, I have always been able to depend on. I know who I am. I trust myself.

Today, as I was entering Whole Foods I saw a lesbian couple. The women were seniors. I would hazard to guess late 60s early 70s. Oh dear Lord forgive me, I just senior profiled two women! I'm guilty. But, I didn't ask if they needed help with any stairs!

I'm at the deli waiting for the holy roast beast of happiness to be sliced when the two of them come up and are gandering at the cheese. One of them wonders off to the hot food item counter. The remaining one didn't see her wonder off as she is engrossed in the heaven of cheeses. Then she looks up. She looks around. She is wondering where her partner went. Not a panicked oh my God where did she go, but rather a dang it, I wanted to ask her something and now where is she, look. She caught my eye and I said "your partner is over at the hot item counter.". She glances over and then she looks back at me. And now, her eyes are tearing up and her lip is trembling and I think oh shit, she is about to start crying. And she says brokenly to me "thank you". And I know she is not thanking me for pointing out where her partner went but, rather thanking me for acknowledging who she is. And what do you say to someone you made on the verge of tears? Nothing. I said nothing but held out my arms and we hugged and parted ways without a word spoken.

I don't know when that woman was able to be who she really is or how strong her trunk and roots are but, I suspect this did not happen until later in life. How many doubtful decisions has she had to make because she couldn't trust herself? Because she wasn't truly who she was. I think those of us with strong trunks and roots should try to shelter those without. I don't know how to do this exactly but, a hug, I think was good.

Nursie-Jethro Tull

Tip-toes in silence 'round my bed
And quiets the raindrops overhead.
With her everlasting smile
She still my fever for awhile.
Oh, nursie dear,
I'm glad you're here
to brush away my pain.

HAD

I had herceptin on Tuesday. Amanda joined the entourage. She wanted to watch. And so she did. Until they kicked her out!. Well, it was Tuesday the day after Memorial day and they were closed for the holiday. So it was rather jammed on Tuesday. She had a chair for the first half of things but, then they needed it. So she could have stood but, I told her to go find my parents and son and get a seat. So she did. Which then left me chatting to the couple sitting next to me. Wife had gotten the last small chair sitting around. He was in the chemo chair to my right.

We are chatting it up and he says "I have colon cancer. I had surgery 6 weeks ago and they say they got it all. My lymph nodes were negative. Now I'm on chemo every 2 weeks for 10 rounds for the next six months to prevent it from coming back."

I look at him and say "So, you HAD cancer."

He looks at his wife. He looks back at me. He doesn't say anything.

I then fill him in short version on me finishing with "So, I HAD cancer and am now on treatment to prevent it from coming back. And you HAD cancer."

He says "Does that help?"

I say "Yes it does. It helps you move forward. It helps you live. I say HAD. My family says HAD. My friends say HAD. My doctor says HAD."

He says "Well, yes, my doctor is doctor Rojas and she did say I was cancer free and this is just to prevent it from coming back. So, I guess I had cancer."

And he looks at his wife and she points at him and she says "You HAD cancer. We are using that from now on."

HAD. Such a small three letter word. So much power.

Got HAD?