OK, so Kondee's Mom gave me the ass kicking I needed via text message this morning...thank you! You did exactly what a friend is supposed to do and I appreciate it. Between her, BeBe, DH and my mom, I got back on track today. I talked to a couple of my girlfriends and they're gonna come over and help me get all my freakin laundry sorted and put away and straighten up and finally get this place squared away. I hit Wal-mart today after I took BabyBoy to school and got the rest of what I need to get organized...I think. I was beat by the time I put it all away and I took a nice little nap. Picked up NumberOneSon, got some dinner, went to a parenting class and then since we got out early I went to Bike Night at the bar.
It was nice to see everyone at Bike Night, it's been awhile since I've gone. It's the first time my friends had seen me since Pinup Barber chopped it off Twiggy style on Tuesday. It was cracking me up because there were multiple people who didn't recognize me. I sure wish I could ride my bike, but I think it's probably gonna be next year.
I really love and appreciate all my friends and family. There is no way I can get through this without the support and help of the people who love me. And I'm lucky enough to have friends and family who love me warts and all (literally...you should see the icky wart on my right middle finger) and who don't get mad at me when I blow off some steam. I don't think there's any way I can ever repay all the kindness given me, but I will spend the rest of my life trying once I'm over this.
Thursday, September 16, 2010
Wednesday, September 15, 2010
Even if I look like I've got it together, really I don't...
Yesterday was just...exhausting. NumberOneSon had his first football game (ever!) in Webb City. Since I'd never even heard of that place, I Google Mapped it and found it was roughly 2 hours away. I googled the school and found the address. I even got a phone call from SchoolReach that gave me directions. Now, did I bother to print any of this out or write any of it down? No, of course not, that would have made it easy for me to find the football field in Webb City. I mean, for God's sake, it's Webb City. Shouldn't be hard to find the football field, it's a tiny town. It's not like there's four high schools. There probably isn't even a Wal-mart. I bet there's a Dollar General though, couple of gas stations, maybe even a Jim's Drive In.
In reality, Webb City has a Wal-mart, a Sonic, a Culver's (mmmm, I love that place!), a Quiznos, the Joplin (?) airport, a beauty school, and lots and lots of other businesses. I saw a lot of them while I was driving around Webb City looking for the football field. Since I didn't know what direction I should go, I just followed my instincts. I forgot that my instincts are usually as good as George Costanza's...remember that episode of Seinfeld where he did the opposite of what he thought should do...yeah, that was a funny one. Anyway, once I got to the Joplin (?) Airport, I thought I might be going the wrong direction so I stopped and busted out my cell phone and googled. The map I got was...useless! Not only was the street I was on not on it, I didn't even recognize the names of any of the streets on it! I downloaded the Google Maps app for my phone a few months ago and I can't figure out how to type an address into it (I can get numbers but not spaces or letters...very useful when you're trying to enter an address, which has numbers AND spaces and letters). If you guessed I don't have an iPhone, you're right. DH has one though...but I'm not jealous (OK maybe I'm a little jealous). I did at least have the address, and because I took a shortcut, I was there early enough that I had time to be lost for awhile. I drove back toward the way I came and turned at the main intersection...the wrong way again! At least this time I knew I was on the right road and I did eventually find the school and football field and I got there about fifteen minutes before the game started.
And the game...sucked. Usually the "A" team plays first and then the "B" team, but this time the "B" team played first! Yay, I thought, I'll get to leave early. Umm, no, the players for the "B" team got to hang out on the sidelines till the "A" game was over. OMG it was just awful! I felt so bad for the boys. They didn't even score at all. Really didn't even come close. Webb City grows 'em big! I briefly considered looking for a source for some steroids for NOS! Oh, well, better luck next week, I suppose.
At least we got to eat at Culver's. I demolished a pumpkin cheesecake concrete mixer while my little ones enjoyed turtles and NOS had a bacon double cheeseburger and fries. I loathe to think about how many calories was in that concrete...oh well, chances are I'll be losing a little weight in the near future. Besides, if they make new boobs out of my tummy, maybe they'll be bigger if I pack on a few pounds...I can eat for two, right?
So today I'm just exhausted. I didn't feel like getting out of bed, much less doing anything. I took BabyBoy to school AND picked him up in my jammies. I didn't even brush my teeth or put on shoes when I took him. Pathetic, I know. I started texting friends to take NOS to the game store to get the game he pre-ordered two months ago for me tonight and I couldn't get anyone to do it. I only asked people he knows and half of them didn't even bother to respond, and the rest had excuses. I know, it's not an emergency. If it was I'm sure those same people and twenty more would be over here in a heartbeat. It's hard enough to let people help you and doubly hard to ask. I would rather just do it myself. I think when people see me and see that I look OK, they assume I am OK. Well, yesterday I may have been, but today I'm not. I went ahead and took a shower after I picked up BabyBoy and put on my makeup and fixed my hair and generally tried to not look like crap. But I honestly don't know what I'm going to do. Today has been one of the worst days I've had since my diagnosis and tests and surgery and follow ups and I know it's only going to get worse. Is anybody going to be there for me? Is anyone going to realize that just because I say I don't need anything that doesn't mean I am telling the truth? It's very easy to sound upbeat in a Tweet or status update or text message. I've spent YEARS perfecting my act of having it all together. I'm not much of a complainer and I hate hearing others complain. I suck it up most of the time, or at least I try. People keep telling me I'm strong. I don't feel strong at all. I feel sad and scared and weak and sorry for my kids that they have such a wreck for a mom. I know it's probably better to have a sick mom than a dead mom but right now it's almost like they don't have a mom at all.
About ten years ago, when I was in nursing school, DH and I separated for a few months. NOS was almost three at the time. Since his daddy was usually gone working for several weeks at a time, NOS didn't really notice that DH wasn't around, at least for awhile. I remember one night I was lying on the couch crying, again. I had put up a brave front at school, not mentioning my problems at home to anyone. But I don't know why, that night, I just couldn't hold myself together until after NOS went to bed. And he came up to me with his blanket off his bed and covered me up and patted my cheek and told me it was OK. I felt about an inch tall. Here was my child trying to take care of me. That's not how it's supposed to be. And I swore I would never let that happen again. I pulled myself together and did not let him see me cry again. And now, with DH on the road and my being sick, I find myself leaning on NOS. He should not have to take care of his mother! He does so much around the house as it is...he has got to be the best 13 year old boy on the planet. Granted, he's still a 13 year old boy...so I get some sighs and attitude and even though he cleaned his room, it's still a mess! But I don't know what to do. Last week when my mom went back home it seemed like I was doing fine. I know she wouldn't have left if she'd thought otherwise. I was hoping I'd get a little better every day, but it's like a roller coaster and I'm just ready to get off the ride. How can you plan for that? How can I know tomorrow I'm not going to feel like picking NOS up from football practice? Or that Friday I'm going to feel like cooking dinner so I don't need anyone to bring anything?
I wish I knew the answer. I pray every day for strength to get through this. I can't keep asking DH to come home or my mom to come stay. I think part of the reason I do better when they're around is that I'm just happy they're there. Like it changes my outlook and I'm happier and therefore I feel better. But DH needs to work or we starve and Mom has her life and her home and husband to care for. I can't expect anyone just to drop everything and be at my beck and call.
In reality, Webb City has a Wal-mart, a Sonic, a Culver's (mmmm, I love that place!), a Quiznos, the Joplin (?) airport, a beauty school, and lots and lots of other businesses. I saw a lot of them while I was driving around Webb City looking for the football field. Since I didn't know what direction I should go, I just followed my instincts. I forgot that my instincts are usually as good as George Costanza's...remember that episode of Seinfeld where he did the opposite of what he thought should do...yeah, that was a funny one. Anyway, once I got to the Joplin (?) Airport, I thought I might be going the wrong direction so I stopped and busted out my cell phone and googled. The map I got was...useless! Not only was the street I was on not on it, I didn't even recognize the names of any of the streets on it! I downloaded the Google Maps app for my phone a few months ago and I can't figure out how to type an address into it (I can get numbers but not spaces or letters...very useful when you're trying to enter an address, which has numbers AND spaces and letters). If you guessed I don't have an iPhone, you're right. DH has one though...but I'm not jealous (OK maybe I'm a little jealous). I did at least have the address, and because I took a shortcut, I was there early enough that I had time to be lost for awhile. I drove back toward the way I came and turned at the main intersection...the wrong way again! At least this time I knew I was on the right road and I did eventually find the school and football field and I got there about fifteen minutes before the game started.
And the game...sucked. Usually the "A" team plays first and then the "B" team, but this time the "B" team played first! Yay, I thought, I'll get to leave early. Umm, no, the players for the "B" team got to hang out on the sidelines till the "A" game was over. OMG it was just awful! I felt so bad for the boys. They didn't even score at all. Really didn't even come close. Webb City grows 'em big! I briefly considered looking for a source for some steroids for NOS! Oh, well, better luck next week, I suppose.
At least we got to eat at Culver's. I demolished a pumpkin cheesecake concrete mixer while my little ones enjoyed turtles and NOS had a bacon double cheeseburger and fries. I loathe to think about how many calories was in that concrete...oh well, chances are I'll be losing a little weight in the near future. Besides, if they make new boobs out of my tummy, maybe they'll be bigger if I pack on a few pounds...I can eat for two, right?
So today I'm just exhausted. I didn't feel like getting out of bed, much less doing anything. I took BabyBoy to school AND picked him up in my jammies. I didn't even brush my teeth or put on shoes when I took him. Pathetic, I know. I started texting friends to take NOS to the game store to get the game he pre-ordered two months ago for me tonight and I couldn't get anyone to do it. I only asked people he knows and half of them didn't even bother to respond, and the rest had excuses. I know, it's not an emergency. If it was I'm sure those same people and twenty more would be over here in a heartbeat. It's hard enough to let people help you and doubly hard to ask. I would rather just do it myself. I think when people see me and see that I look OK, they assume I am OK. Well, yesterday I may have been, but today I'm not. I went ahead and took a shower after I picked up BabyBoy and put on my makeup and fixed my hair and generally tried to not look like crap. But I honestly don't know what I'm going to do. Today has been one of the worst days I've had since my diagnosis and tests and surgery and follow ups and I know it's only going to get worse. Is anybody going to be there for me? Is anyone going to realize that just because I say I don't need anything that doesn't mean I am telling the truth? It's very easy to sound upbeat in a Tweet or status update or text message. I've spent YEARS perfecting my act of having it all together. I'm not much of a complainer and I hate hearing others complain. I suck it up most of the time, or at least I try. People keep telling me I'm strong. I don't feel strong at all. I feel sad and scared and weak and sorry for my kids that they have such a wreck for a mom. I know it's probably better to have a sick mom than a dead mom but right now it's almost like they don't have a mom at all.
About ten years ago, when I was in nursing school, DH and I separated for a few months. NOS was almost three at the time. Since his daddy was usually gone working for several weeks at a time, NOS didn't really notice that DH wasn't around, at least for awhile. I remember one night I was lying on the couch crying, again. I had put up a brave front at school, not mentioning my problems at home to anyone. But I don't know why, that night, I just couldn't hold myself together until after NOS went to bed. And he came up to me with his blanket off his bed and covered me up and patted my cheek and told me it was OK. I felt about an inch tall. Here was my child trying to take care of me. That's not how it's supposed to be. And I swore I would never let that happen again. I pulled myself together and did not let him see me cry again. And now, with DH on the road and my being sick, I find myself leaning on NOS. He should not have to take care of his mother! He does so much around the house as it is...he has got to be the best 13 year old boy on the planet. Granted, he's still a 13 year old boy...so I get some sighs and attitude and even though he cleaned his room, it's still a mess! But I don't know what to do. Last week when my mom went back home it seemed like I was doing fine. I know she wouldn't have left if she'd thought otherwise. I was hoping I'd get a little better every day, but it's like a roller coaster and I'm just ready to get off the ride. How can you plan for that? How can I know tomorrow I'm not going to feel like picking NOS up from football practice? Or that Friday I'm going to feel like cooking dinner so I don't need anyone to bring anything?
I wish I knew the answer. I pray every day for strength to get through this. I can't keep asking DH to come home or my mom to come stay. I think part of the reason I do better when they're around is that I'm just happy they're there. Like it changes my outlook and I'm happier and therefore I feel better. But DH needs to work or we starve and Mom has her life and her home and husband to care for. I can't expect anyone just to drop everything and be at my beck and call.
Monday, September 13, 2010
the devil is in the details
Yesterday I skimmed back over previous posts and wrote down the aliases of all the people whose names have been changed. I totally stole that concept from Tucker Max. If you like dirty stories from a guy who seems to have no conscience or dignity, you really should check out his website However, if you are easily offended or have an overactive upchuck reflex, you might wanna skip it. To be perfectly honest, DH introduced me to his stories and when I read the one he picked out for me, I was disgusted and thought that Tucker Max had to be the biggest egomaniac douchebag asshat in the world. But DH had bookmarked it on my laptop and I was out of town working, bored in the hotel room so I started reading a few more of the stories, and I was hooked. I contemplated buying the book, but B&N didn't have it on sale, so I rented the movie I Hope They Serve Beer in Hell instead. Needless to say, DH was shocked when I brought that one home from the Redbox. And the guy who plays Tucker in the movie, Matt Czuchry, is exactly the kind of guy I pictured Tucker to be. The name Matt Czuchry may not sound familiar to you unless you watched Gilmore Girls. He played Logan, Rory's final love interest. I was so sad when that show went off the air. Yeah, I know, Rory graduated from college and Lorelai and Luke got together and geez, what were they gonna do, bring in a cute kid ala The Cosby Show or Full House (although Gilmore Girls didn't really have a cute kid, unless you count Rory, but she was a teenager when the show started). OK now I'm totally off the subject. Oh, yeah, I stole Tucker Max's habit of making aliases for the people he mentions in his stories.
The whole reason I started this entry was that I realized I hadn't really said anything about the results of the pathology after my surgery and what the plan is. I'd only bitched a lot about being in the hospital and being in pain. Don't worry. I'll get back to those subjects because you've got to hear about Nurse Ratched.
OK so remember the biopsy results...invasive ductal carcinoma, grade 2, with an extensive in situ component. There were a total of at least 5 microscopic foci. The suspicious area on the mammogram was about 50mm x 50mm x 45mm (62 mm in a radial fashion...whatever that means). The surgical pathology showed an infiltrating ductal carcinoma with three foci, intermediate grade, largest was 1.1 cm and two smaller were 0.5 cm each, positive for angiolymphatic invasion and ductal carcinoma in situ, intermediate grade with necrosis and cancerization of lobules. Essentially what all that means is that what they found in the surgery is what they were expecting to find based on the biopsy. No better, no worse. Mastectomy was the appropriate treatment and if we'd planned lumpectomy plus radiation Dr. M (surgeon) likely would have needed to go ahead and do a mastectomy anyway.
I opted for the bilateral because I know if I have cancer in one breast, I am more likely to get it in the other breast. Now I realize breast cancer can come back even without breasts, but honestly, the amount of surveillance they want to do on your other breast after you've had breast cancer once is astounding. Two MRIs and two mammograms a year, alternating and spaced three months apart, is A. expensive, B. stressful waiting for results, and C. I don't think I could handle another MRI again, much less twice a year. Just thinking about my MRI makes me wanna throw up. I would rather have a biopsy and I'd seriously consider having a root canal rather than another MRI. Besides, I'm 36...I want a matched pair!
Lymph nodes were negative, so based on the size of the tumors it's a Stage 1 cancer. It's ER+, PR- and Her2-. The plan is chemotherapy with a cytophosphane (nitrogen mustard alkylating agent) and a taxane, given together every three weeks for four to six doses, plus an estrogen blocking agent for five years. I went ahead and enrolled in a clinical trial comparing the estrogen blocking agents tamoxifen and an aromatase inhibitor for recurrence in premenopausal women. The current standard of treatment is tamoxifen for five years. Because I may be randomized into the group that gets the aromatase inhibitor, I will be given a GnRH angonist which will put me into a chemical menopause. Dr. M (the oncologist) said I didn't need adriamycin since the tumors were small, I am young, and the drug is very hard on your heart.
Both chemo agents will cause me to lose my hair, so hopefully Pinup Barber can turn my hairdo into Twiggy's this week so I can start getting used to it. Well, maybe a hot pink Twiggy! And menopause...well, let's just hope I can get through it without killing too many people!
DH and my mom are both concerned about my enrolling in a clinical trial, but someone has to do it. It's not like they won't be treating me, I'll either get treated with the current standard or with something they've already studied a lot and think might be better. I hope someday they will find a cure for cancer, but if patients don't take part in clinical trials, researchers and physicians won't know about better treatments. Cancer treatment regimens are constantly changing and that is thanks to clinical trials and research.
Well, since I didn't get crap done yesterday, I'm gonna get dressed, run Baby Boy to preschool and try to accomplish something tangible today. Then again, I may just read a book.
The whole reason I started this entry was that I realized I hadn't really said anything about the results of the pathology after my surgery and what the plan is. I'd only bitched a lot about being in the hospital and being in pain. Don't worry. I'll get back to those subjects because you've got to hear about Nurse Ratched.
OK so remember the biopsy results...invasive ductal carcinoma, grade 2, with an extensive in situ component. There were a total of at least 5 microscopic foci. The suspicious area on the mammogram was about 50mm x 50mm x 45mm (62 mm in a radial fashion...whatever that means). The surgical pathology showed an infiltrating ductal carcinoma with three foci, intermediate grade, largest was 1.1 cm and two smaller were 0.5 cm each, positive for angiolymphatic invasion and ductal carcinoma in situ, intermediate grade with necrosis and cancerization of lobules. Essentially what all that means is that what they found in the surgery is what they were expecting to find based on the biopsy. No better, no worse. Mastectomy was the appropriate treatment and if we'd planned lumpectomy plus radiation Dr. M (surgeon) likely would have needed to go ahead and do a mastectomy anyway.
I opted for the bilateral because I know if I have cancer in one breast, I am more likely to get it in the other breast. Now I realize breast cancer can come back even without breasts, but honestly, the amount of surveillance they want to do on your other breast after you've had breast cancer once is astounding. Two MRIs and two mammograms a year, alternating and spaced three months apart, is A. expensive, B. stressful waiting for results, and C. I don't think I could handle another MRI again, much less twice a year. Just thinking about my MRI makes me wanna throw up. I would rather have a biopsy and I'd seriously consider having a root canal rather than another MRI. Besides, I'm 36...I want a matched pair!
Lymph nodes were negative, so based on the size of the tumors it's a Stage 1 cancer. It's ER+, PR- and Her2-. The plan is chemotherapy with a cytophosphane (nitrogen mustard alkylating agent) and a taxane, given together every three weeks for four to six doses, plus an estrogen blocking agent for five years. I went ahead and enrolled in a clinical trial comparing the estrogen blocking agents tamoxifen and an aromatase inhibitor for recurrence in premenopausal women. The current standard of treatment is tamoxifen for five years. Because I may be randomized into the group that gets the aromatase inhibitor, I will be given a GnRH angonist which will put me into a chemical menopause. Dr. M (the oncologist) said I didn't need adriamycin since the tumors were small, I am young, and the drug is very hard on your heart.
Both chemo agents will cause me to lose my hair, so hopefully Pinup Barber can turn my hairdo into Twiggy's this week so I can start getting used to it. Well, maybe a hot pink Twiggy! And menopause...well, let's just hope I can get through it without killing too many people!
DH and my mom are both concerned about my enrolling in a clinical trial, but someone has to do it. It's not like they won't be treating me, I'll either get treated with the current standard or with something they've already studied a lot and think might be better. I hope someday they will find a cure for cancer, but if patients don't take part in clinical trials, researchers and physicians won't know about better treatments. Cancer treatment regimens are constantly changing and that is thanks to clinical trials and research.
Well, since I didn't get crap done yesterday, I'm gonna get dressed, run Baby Boy to preschool and try to accomplish something tangible today. Then again, I may just read a book.
Sunday, September 12, 2010
becoming a hermit, random musings
I'm trying to decide whether to finish some stories I've left unfinished or just move on. Baby Boy was up at the crack of dawn...par for the course for a weekend morning. Oh well, I had set my alarm to take pain pills anyway, so I just got up. I'm disappointed in my Twitter friends...I was expecting more drunk tweets and twit pics from last night. And there wasn't much new on Facebook either...everyone must be sleeping in today. I turned on CMT for about 10 minutes and remembered why I don't like mainstream country music (generally). The first video was Blake Shelton...lame. The second was Sugarland, who I kind of like, except I didn't even notice the song because the video was so ridiculous. It was a cross between the warehouse/cop scene in Reservoir Dogs (minus the blood and awesome song) and Olivia Newton-John's Physical video. Also, I thought they were a duo, but apparently in their videos they just cut to the dude with his feet up strumming an instrument about three times. That's when I started looking for the remote. But when Toby Keith came on, I intensified my search. Good grief, I just can't even express the loathing I have for that bag of douche. Found the remote, refilled my coffee, and switched to VH1 Classic. I'm pretty sure that makes me old. Oh well...I love Pop Up Video and they show reruns of it pretty regularly. I like having a little TV in the background that I don't really have to pay attention to but isn't distracting so I lose my train of thought (it's a very short train).
Baby Boy was insistent that we bring the dogs in and now he's annoyed because Buddy wants to play with him. Cripes, he's just like a woman...can't make up his mind! LOL I'm allowed to say that since I'm a woman, right?
OK so let's see, where to start...This weekend I had a lot of social and kid obligations. Bubba's birthday was Friday and he was celebrating at the bar that night. Bubba's a good friend, so I wanted to go. But by the time I ran my few errands and then picked NumberOneSon up from football practice, I didn't feel like doing anything. I'd spent most of the day running around...big mistake if I want to do something at night. But Hot Mommy needed to get out of the house and I wanted to look at boots and books, so I dragged her and baby along. Oh, that baby of hers is just a doll! He's almost as cute as my babies were...anyway, boots were more expensive than I remembered. I believe it's been about 20 years since I've bought any. I did find some cute ones though and when I told BeBe about my experience, she informed me that the store usually puts the brand I like on sale around Christmas. Yay! I know what the kids are getting me for Christmas this year ;-) I bought another cancer book, a Yoga book and video, and some new reading material for when my quarantine begins.
Long story short...NOS made leftovers for dinner, I chilled in the recliner and took max doses of my pain pills.
Not wishing to repeat the mistakes of Friday, when I got up Saturday morning, I really scrutinized what I HAD to do and what I really WANTED to do. NOS's football scrimmage...HAD to go. Fortunately one of his friends who also plays football lives around the corner and he was able to hitch a ride with them so I didn't have to get up and drag the little ones out quite so early. Reading Around the Square...didn't HAVE to go and even though it's for a good cause and it's usually fun, I decided to skip it. We went to Sonic instead for drinks and breakfast for NOS. Only my kid would want a Bacon Cheeseburger Toaster and tater tots for breakfast. And then my friend Squeaky called and said he had time to unclog my kitchen sink so we ran home. At first he didn't think he was gonna get it...but he persevered and succeeded! Yay, now we can do some dishes!!
Next on the list of obligations...Purple Burrito with Bubba and birthday party for Miss Thang at the OC. I'm not a huge fan of kid birthday parties...awkward small talk with other moms I really don't know...I have to be in the mood to enjoy it, and I wasn't. So I grabbed a quick nap, showered and got ready and dropped Miss Thang off! First time she's soloed a birthday party, and of course she did just fine. And off I went to Purple Burrito with Bubba, killing two birds with one stone. Mmmm, Purple Burrito. I could eat that every day, and they have so many different choices, most of which I haven't tried yet because I'm addicted to their fish tacos and chorizo tacos. Takeout from there is just not as good because the shells get soggy, so it's a meal best eaten there. I'm going to miss it. Maybe as I get closer to a chemo appointment my immune system will be strong enough to go between busy times. Then I hit the resale shop and bought a few cute shirts and a very nice winter coat for NOS.
Finally I was down to my evening social obligations. Pinup Barber's hubby's birthday party at their shop and our bar (they're by each other), the I Hate Cancer benefit at Lindbergs with some of my favorite bands, and the Blues Festival at Chesterfield Village where my friend Bling-Bling had a booth selling her (what else?) bling-bling! She'd even managed to score a few free passes. However, after I picked MT up from her party, my pain, which had been manageable, decided to become unmanageable. Seriously, WTF, pain? You bitch!! I'd done what I was supposed to do. Took my meds, took a nap, didn't overdo it. And still, you come back and bite me in the ass! OK well, actually you bit me in the boob but whatever. Point is, I'm over two weeks out! Why are you still hanging around? I've never been out of commission for this long! So what did I do last night? Stayed home, drugged up, watched TV and creeped on Facebook for awhile. That was not what I had in mind for Saturday night. I only have one more weekend left before I have to become a hermit, at least for a week or two after each treatment. GRRRRR...
It's not like I wanted to party all night...but I would have liked to have made an appearance at the birthday party and the benefit, maybe an hour at each, tops. I just don't get it! Oh well, I guess I have lots of time in the future to see bands, and I'd told Pinup Barber's hubby happy birthday when I'd seen him Friday, his actual birthday. And I talked to Diablo on Facebook and he was understanding about my not being able to come out to the benefit.
I was hoping today to get out of the house and do something fun with all three kids, but I just don't know if I'm gonna have the stamina to do it. Baby Boy asked to go to Pizza Hut, so maybe we'll go eat some pizza later or something. It's a pretty day, maybe I'll take a book outside and read and watch the kids play. I'd talked to J last night, asking her what would be something fun, cheap and not too strenuous to do with the kids. Maybe she'll text me with a great idea.
Well, I guess it's time to change out laundry from the washer to the dryer and put on another load. MT's clamoring to put away our laundry we had done last week, so I guess we'll start sorting through it although there's no way it's getting finished today.
Baby Boy was insistent that we bring the dogs in and now he's annoyed because Buddy wants to play with him. Cripes, he's just like a woman...can't make up his mind! LOL I'm allowed to say that since I'm a woman, right?
OK so let's see, where to start...This weekend I had a lot of social and kid obligations. Bubba's birthday was Friday and he was celebrating at the bar that night. Bubba's a good friend, so I wanted to go. But by the time I ran my few errands and then picked NumberOneSon up from football practice, I didn't feel like doing anything. I'd spent most of the day running around...big mistake if I want to do something at night. But Hot Mommy needed to get out of the house and I wanted to look at boots and books, so I dragged her and baby along. Oh, that baby of hers is just a doll! He's almost as cute as my babies were...anyway, boots were more expensive than I remembered. I believe it's been about 20 years since I've bought any. I did find some cute ones though and when I told BeBe about my experience, she informed me that the store usually puts the brand I like on sale around Christmas. Yay! I know what the kids are getting me for Christmas this year ;-) I bought another cancer book, a Yoga book and video, and some new reading material for when my quarantine begins.
Long story short...NOS made leftovers for dinner, I chilled in the recliner and took max doses of my pain pills.
Not wishing to repeat the mistakes of Friday, when I got up Saturday morning, I really scrutinized what I HAD to do and what I really WANTED to do. NOS's football scrimmage...HAD to go. Fortunately one of his friends who also plays football lives around the corner and he was able to hitch a ride with them so I didn't have to get up and drag the little ones out quite so early. Reading Around the Square...didn't HAVE to go and even though it's for a good cause and it's usually fun, I decided to skip it. We went to Sonic instead for drinks and breakfast for NOS. Only my kid would want a Bacon Cheeseburger Toaster and tater tots for breakfast. And then my friend Squeaky called and said he had time to unclog my kitchen sink so we ran home. At first he didn't think he was gonna get it...but he persevered and succeeded! Yay, now we can do some dishes!!
Next on the list of obligations...Purple Burrito with Bubba and birthday party for Miss Thang at the OC. I'm not a huge fan of kid birthday parties...awkward small talk with other moms I really don't know...I have to be in the mood to enjoy it, and I wasn't. So I grabbed a quick nap, showered and got ready and dropped Miss Thang off! First time she's soloed a birthday party, and of course she did just fine. And off I went to Purple Burrito with Bubba, killing two birds with one stone. Mmmm, Purple Burrito. I could eat that every day, and they have so many different choices, most of which I haven't tried yet because I'm addicted to their fish tacos and chorizo tacos. Takeout from there is just not as good because the shells get soggy, so it's a meal best eaten there. I'm going to miss it. Maybe as I get closer to a chemo appointment my immune system will be strong enough to go between busy times. Then I hit the resale shop and bought a few cute shirts and a very nice winter coat for NOS.
Finally I was down to my evening social obligations. Pinup Barber's hubby's birthday party at their shop and our bar (they're by each other), the I Hate Cancer benefit at Lindbergs with some of my favorite bands, and the Blues Festival at Chesterfield Village where my friend Bling-Bling had a booth selling her (what else?) bling-bling! She'd even managed to score a few free passes. However, after I picked MT up from her party, my pain, which had been manageable, decided to become unmanageable. Seriously, WTF, pain? You bitch!! I'd done what I was supposed to do. Took my meds, took a nap, didn't overdo it. And still, you come back and bite me in the ass! OK well, actually you bit me in the boob but whatever. Point is, I'm over two weeks out! Why are you still hanging around? I've never been out of commission for this long! So what did I do last night? Stayed home, drugged up, watched TV and creeped on Facebook for awhile. That was not what I had in mind for Saturday night. I only have one more weekend left before I have to become a hermit, at least for a week or two after each treatment. GRRRRR...
It's not like I wanted to party all night...but I would have liked to have made an appearance at the birthday party and the benefit, maybe an hour at each, tops. I just don't get it! Oh well, I guess I have lots of time in the future to see bands, and I'd told Pinup Barber's hubby happy birthday when I'd seen him Friday, his actual birthday. And I talked to Diablo on Facebook and he was understanding about my not being able to come out to the benefit.
I was hoping today to get out of the house and do something fun with all three kids, but I just don't know if I'm gonna have the stamina to do it. Baby Boy asked to go to Pizza Hut, so maybe we'll go eat some pizza later or something. It's a pretty day, maybe I'll take a book outside and read and watch the kids play. I'd talked to J last night, asking her what would be something fun, cheap and not too strenuous to do with the kids. Maybe she'll text me with a great idea.
Well, I guess it's time to change out laundry from the washer to the dryer and put on another load. MT's clamoring to put away our laundry we had done last week, so I guess we'll start sorting through it although there's no way it's getting finished today.
Thursday, September 9, 2010
Getting back to normal...well, kind of
So this afternoon, for the first time in over two weeks, I was all by myself for more than just a few minutes. I think most people who know me would consider me to be a "people person." I usually enjoy meeting new people, talking to people, being out in public, mingling and making small talk at a get-together, chatting up customers at the bar. What most people don't know is...oh, geez, I'm not sure I want to give away my secret. Um, ok, here goes...I don't always like being around people. I need a little solitude every day. If I don't get some alone time I get a little nutty. Now having had major surgery, being on narcotics, having DH at home and then my mom after DH went back to work, how much "alone" time do you think I've had? Not including going to the bathroom and being asleep...pretty much zero. So when my mom left and my coffee klatch girlfriends left and I dropped Baby Boy off at preschool...I was HOME ALONE! I felt like running through the house like that crazy little kid in the movie. Instead I sorted, washed and folded some laundry, deleted some junk on the DVR, watched an episode of Teen Mom, stripped my bed and washed my sheets. Oh yeah, and caught about a 15 minute nap.
I have a to-do list about a mile long these days and I didn't get any of it done. So I've decided the first thing on my to-do list every day from now on is "get better." That way, I can always mark something of the list. It may be on the list again the next day, but I need to remember that every day, the most important thing I need to do is work on getting better, whether that means taking a nap, saying a prayer,or having coffee with a friend. That doesn't mean I won't try to accomplish anything else on the list, but the world won't end if I don't get all the laundry finished or there's a cobweb in the corner of my bathroom. The roof didn't fall in when my mom saw how filthy my laundry room is. Eventually everything will fall into place and get back to normal, well, normal for me I suppose.
I have a to-do list about a mile long these days and I didn't get any of it done. So I've decided the first thing on my to-do list every day from now on is "get better." That way, I can always mark something of the list. It may be on the list again the next day, but I need to remember that every day, the most important thing I need to do is work on getting better, whether that means taking a nap, saying a prayer,or having coffee with a friend. That doesn't mean I won't try to accomplish anything else on the list, but the world won't end if I don't get all the laundry finished or there's a cobweb in the corner of my bathroom. The roof didn't fall in when my mom saw how filthy my laundry room is. Eventually everything will fall into place and get back to normal, well, normal for me I suppose.
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
skipping around
I know I haven't finished my hospital story yet, and I'm sure I will eventually, but I'm just not in the mood. I once again ignored my gut feeling and paid for it, but some good did come out of it.
I woke up Sunday morning and I was all excited because no one else was up. I was going to make some coffee, check my Facebook, and blog without my family bugging me. So I walked the dog, got the coffee brewing, turned on my laptop and..."Good morning, Mom!" Baby Boy is just so dang cute you can't get mad at him, so I made him something to eat and a little coffee milk and figured I'd get around to my plans later. We'd all had a late night the night before but there was a lot to do before my mom came up to stay with the kids while DH and I went to St. Louis for my doctors' appointments so I went ahead and dragged NumberOneSon and Ms. Thang out of bed, got em going on breakfast, made a list of what they needed to do and ran downstairs to get dressed. DH was already up too. I took off my jammie shirt and what do I see? Hives! I'd been a little itchy but I'd itched for days with all the narcotics so I just hadn't thought much of it. So DH comes back in to get dressed and I asked him if he could see any on my back. Oh yeah...great, allergic reaction to which of the bazillion drugs I'm taking? I'm guessing the antibiotic, which was prescribed by the plastic surgeon so I call him. His recording says to page the plastic surgery resident on call, whom I will now refer to as Dr. Dumbass. So I call the number and get a real person, who puts me on hold and gets Dr. Dumbass on the phone. I give him all the pertinent facts...name, what surgery on what date by what surgeon, symptoms, and what it likely is based on my previous history. I have had allergic reactions to several antibiotics and even had a reaction to penicillin that caused my throat to start closing and really scared me to death. So I guess you could say I've been there, done that, and know the routine. My plan was to get some clothes on and head up to either Urgent Care or the ER, get a steroid shot, maybe some benedryl or something, and go on my merry way. Instead, I listened to Dr. Dumbass. He says, "Well, this sounds like a pretty complicated situation. I'm going to speak to the chief resident and call you back. Have you taken any benedryl?" I told him I had indeed taken some benedryl and hung up with him. He called me back about five minutes later and told me he thought I needed to go to the ER (well, duh, Dr. Dumbass) and not take any more of my antibiotic. Then he put the chief resident on who proceeded to tell me I needed to drive to St. Louis to come to the ER. I asked him why and he said, "Oh, I doubt your local hospital will want to deal with a post-op patient who didn't have surgery there." Hmmm, now I had already considered that but I live nearly 4 hours away from St. Louis. I explained this to him and he said, well you can try your local ER but I doubt they'll do anything other than send you this way. Oh, and don't go to the ER where you had your surgery, come downtown. Now wait a minute...you just said they wouldn't do anything at the hospital where I hadn't had surgery and now you're telling me to go to the hospital where I didn't have surgery...So here's the place where I should have gone with my gut feeling and took a short jaunt up to the Urgent Care at the hospital where I used to work. I blame the drugs...clouded my judgement and besides, Barnes and Wash U are a lot more prestigious than Cox so surely their residents know a little more than ours...um, no. Residents are naive at best and dangerous at worst, but always clueless! In the meantime, DH remembers my penicillin reaction and is chomping at the bit to get going. I looked at the time and thought, by the time we get there and go through the ER and get home, it's almost going to be time to turn around and drive back up for my doctors' appointments. So I grabbed my meds and my makeup bag, threw our toothbrushes and deodorant in and told DH to grab a change of undies. I was going to pack a bag with clothes but he was freaking out so we jumped in the truck and drove off, calling his parents on the way so they could come stay with the kids in case we got back late.
Four hours later, I'm starting to get hives on my face and they're down almost to my knees, the benedryl is not working for the itching, and we get to the ER. The triage nurse looks at me and says, I'm sending you over to Urgent Care. Who told you to come all the way up here for an allergic reaction? The chief resident. I don't think she was impressed. Three hours later, I finally see the PA in Urgent Care. He asked me, who told you to come all the way up here for an allergic reaction? The chief resident. I don't think he was impressed either. He gave me some steroids and something stronger than benedryl for itching and a script for an antibiotic that should provide good coverage that I had taken before without problems. By the time we found a pharmacy that was open on Sunday night and ate something, we were going to be past midnight getting home. And we were planning to drive up the next afternoon anyway for Tuesday appointments. So my poor in-laws had to spend the night at our house ill prepared and DH and I had to spend two nights in St. Louis ill prepared. Fortunately I'd gotten most of the stuff I needed and I found a Wal-mart to round out my wardrobe and personal needs.
The good thing that came out of it was that we got to spend some time with our friends Kondee's Mom and Mando Man. DH and I have not seen Mando Man in quite a while so it was a lot of fun to catch up. We spent time at the place where they're working and then had a nice meal out with them.
I'm falling asleep and I'll start accidentally erasing things if I don't quit for the night. Hopefully I'll have enough time to catch up over the next few days.
I woke up Sunday morning and I was all excited because no one else was up. I was going to make some coffee, check my Facebook, and blog without my family bugging me. So I walked the dog, got the coffee brewing, turned on my laptop and..."Good morning, Mom!" Baby Boy is just so dang cute you can't get mad at him, so I made him something to eat and a little coffee milk and figured I'd get around to my plans later. We'd all had a late night the night before but there was a lot to do before my mom came up to stay with the kids while DH and I went to St. Louis for my doctors' appointments so I went ahead and dragged NumberOneSon and Ms. Thang out of bed, got em going on breakfast, made a list of what they needed to do and ran downstairs to get dressed. DH was already up too. I took off my jammie shirt and what do I see? Hives! I'd been a little itchy but I'd itched for days with all the narcotics so I just hadn't thought much of it. So DH comes back in to get dressed and I asked him if he could see any on my back. Oh yeah...great, allergic reaction to which of the bazillion drugs I'm taking? I'm guessing the antibiotic, which was prescribed by the plastic surgeon so I call him. His recording says to page the plastic surgery resident on call, whom I will now refer to as Dr. Dumbass. So I call the number and get a real person, who puts me on hold and gets Dr. Dumbass on the phone. I give him all the pertinent facts...name, what surgery on what date by what surgeon, symptoms, and what it likely is based on my previous history. I have had allergic reactions to several antibiotics and even had a reaction to penicillin that caused my throat to start closing and really scared me to death. So I guess you could say I've been there, done that, and know the routine. My plan was to get some clothes on and head up to either Urgent Care or the ER, get a steroid shot, maybe some benedryl or something, and go on my merry way. Instead, I listened to Dr. Dumbass. He says, "Well, this sounds like a pretty complicated situation. I'm going to speak to the chief resident and call you back. Have you taken any benedryl?" I told him I had indeed taken some benedryl and hung up with him. He called me back about five minutes later and told me he thought I needed to go to the ER (well, duh, Dr. Dumbass) and not take any more of my antibiotic. Then he put the chief resident on who proceeded to tell me I needed to drive to St. Louis to come to the ER. I asked him why and he said, "Oh, I doubt your local hospital will want to deal with a post-op patient who didn't have surgery there." Hmmm, now I had already considered that but I live nearly 4 hours away from St. Louis. I explained this to him and he said, well you can try your local ER but I doubt they'll do anything other than send you this way. Oh, and don't go to the ER where you had your surgery, come downtown. Now wait a minute...you just said they wouldn't do anything at the hospital where I hadn't had surgery and now you're telling me to go to the hospital where I didn't have surgery...So here's the place where I should have gone with my gut feeling and took a short jaunt up to the Urgent Care at the hospital where I used to work. I blame the drugs...clouded my judgement and besides, Barnes and Wash U are a lot more prestigious than Cox so surely their residents know a little more than ours...um, no. Residents are naive at best and dangerous at worst, but always clueless! In the meantime, DH remembers my penicillin reaction and is chomping at the bit to get going. I looked at the time and thought, by the time we get there and go through the ER and get home, it's almost going to be time to turn around and drive back up for my doctors' appointments. So I grabbed my meds and my makeup bag, threw our toothbrushes and deodorant in and told DH to grab a change of undies. I was going to pack a bag with clothes but he was freaking out so we jumped in the truck and drove off, calling his parents on the way so they could come stay with the kids in case we got back late.
Four hours later, I'm starting to get hives on my face and they're down almost to my knees, the benedryl is not working for the itching, and we get to the ER. The triage nurse looks at me and says, I'm sending you over to Urgent Care. Who told you to come all the way up here for an allergic reaction? The chief resident. I don't think she was impressed. Three hours later, I finally see the PA in Urgent Care. He asked me, who told you to come all the way up here for an allergic reaction? The chief resident. I don't think he was impressed either. He gave me some steroids and something stronger than benedryl for itching and a script for an antibiotic that should provide good coverage that I had taken before without problems. By the time we found a pharmacy that was open on Sunday night and ate something, we were going to be past midnight getting home. And we were planning to drive up the next afternoon anyway for Tuesday appointments. So my poor in-laws had to spend the night at our house ill prepared and DH and I had to spend two nights in St. Louis ill prepared. Fortunately I'd gotten most of the stuff I needed and I found a Wal-mart to round out my wardrobe and personal needs.
The good thing that came out of it was that we got to spend some time with our friends Kondee's Mom and Mando Man. DH and I have not seen Mando Man in quite a while so it was a lot of fun to catch up. We spent time at the place where they're working and then had a nice meal out with them.
I'm falling asleep and I'll start accidentally erasing things if I don't quit for the night. Hopefully I'll have enough time to catch up over the next few days.
Friday, September 3, 2010
Surgery, part deux
OK so I had to re-read what I blogged last time because I wasn't sure how far I'd gotten in the story. Cut me a little slack, I'm still on Vicoden! Friday was a breeze compared to Thursday night, and Dr. B (plastic surgeon) came back to see me in the evening, I think to try to convince me to be discharged. Um, no, not happening. I still had the PCA going but with the distractions of visitors, text messages, TV, and the PO meds I was taking as well, I wasn't using it as much...but I was still using it. We made a deal...PCA came down at 8 PM, the nurse would give me the Vicoden and Toradol scheduled, and I'd get to stay one more night. I think it was a fair compromise. I slept fairly well, but the second night in a recliner really jacked up DH's back. I'm sure he was hoping I'd wake up in the middle of the night and kick him out of the recliner again! Not that he'd want me to be in excruciating pain like I was the night before, but maybe that my back would start hurting a little from the hospital bed. We were up fairly early Saturday morning and Dr. M (breast surgeon) came in and asked if I was ready to go home. Yes ma'am I am! We had already eaten breakfast and I had taken my morning meds. Dr. B had said either Thursday or Friday that I could take a shower on Saturday. So the tech came in and brought me towels and soap, and DH helped me shower.
I know I'm stopping right in the middle of my story, but the kids are up and clamoring for pancakes and I keep getting interrupted. Of course the day I want them to sleep in is the day they are up with the chickens.
I know I'm stopping right in the middle of my story, but the kids are up and clamoring for pancakes and I keep getting interrupted. Of course the day I want them to sleep in is the day they are up with the chickens.
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