I have had it pretty easy through this whole cancer thing. A little fatigue, a little nausea, some anemia...at worst, it's been like the intense part of first trimester pregnancy. I recently told a friend that I have managed to contract the Disney version of Stage IV cancer, if there is a such a thing, and for this I am truly grateful.
HOWEVER, today I feel the need to log my first real complaint about all of this. This week, after treatment 10, my fingernails have suddenly betrayed me. I know, I know, you are thinking, "Seriously, is she really going to complain about her FINGERNAILS when she is giving cancer a fatal blow with minimal side effects?" Well, yes, I am. And then I'm going to feel ashamed about it later.
I have always had strong, long fingernails. This was true even before my pregnancies, but childbearing served to enhance their growth and strength further. I wouldn't go so far as to say I was proud of my fingernails, but I will say that I had come to comfortably rely on them as tools. I used them to pry things open, parse and cut things and generally make my life easier.
This has all ended for me. All of a sudden, my nails have begun bending backward, splitting to the quick and breaking off, from simple activities such as rotating the laundry or even reaching for my shoes. So, today, I mourned their loss and cut them all back to the quick. Sniff.
As I gaze at my stubby fingers or find myself reaching for a knife to do the job I once could do unassisted I will try my hardest to remember how lucky I am in all other aspects of this. But I'm allowed a brief mourning period for this small sign of my loss of health, aren't I?
I thought you'd agree.
Thursday, June 24, 2010
Wednesday, June 23, 2010
Eyes Wide Open
As I was praying my rosary this morning (as you all know, that is when I have my "deep thoughts"), I was thinking about why Jesus was at first unrecognizable to his disciples after his resurrection.
Mary Magdalene thought Jesus was the gardener when she saw him outside of the tomb. The seven disciples by the Sea of Tiberius did not recognize him when he asked about their fishing. The men walking to Emmaus had a lengthy conversation with him about his own crucifixion without realizing it was him. It was only later that their eyes were opened and they all realized that they had been talking to the resurrected Jesus.
What could be the reason for this, I wondered? Why would so many not recognize right away and need their eyes opened for them to see what was right in front of them?
I did not wonder long before I knew the answer: Jesus is in all the people around us, whether we can see him or not. Often we need our eyes opened to see him, but he is there. Not in body, as was the case with the befuddled disciples, but just as real.
He is there in our spouses, our parents, our children, our friends. It is easiest to see him there, in those who are good to us or who treat us as we imagine Jesus would--with loving care and concern. But he is also in those who don't treat us as they should. Those who drive us crazy, those who we judge.
Our eyes are opened to his presence in these difficult people when we allow ourselves to see. We see the opportunities these people provide us to work on our patience, our compassion, and our Christian kindness. We see the needs that these people have that cause them to act the way they do, needs that we can often help fill. The need for acceptance, love, or understanding. When we see these thing, we see Jesus in everyone, and our eyes are opened.
Is this easy? Of course not! It is nearly impossible. But nothing is impossible with God. Lord, may my eyes be opened to see.
Mary Magdalene thought Jesus was the gardener when she saw him outside of the tomb. The seven disciples by the Sea of Tiberius did not recognize him when he asked about their fishing. The men walking to Emmaus had a lengthy conversation with him about his own crucifixion without realizing it was him. It was only later that their eyes were opened and they all realized that they had been talking to the resurrected Jesus.
What could be the reason for this, I wondered? Why would so many not recognize right away and need their eyes opened for them to see what was right in front of them?
I did not wonder long before I knew the answer: Jesus is in all the people around us, whether we can see him or not. Often we need our eyes opened to see him, but he is there. Not in body, as was the case with the befuddled disciples, but just as real.
He is there in our spouses, our parents, our children, our friends. It is easiest to see him there, in those who are good to us or who treat us as we imagine Jesus would--with loving care and concern. But he is also in those who don't treat us as they should. Those who drive us crazy, those who we judge.
Our eyes are opened to his presence in these difficult people when we allow ourselves to see. We see the opportunities these people provide us to work on our patience, our compassion, and our Christian kindness. We see the needs that these people have that cause them to act the way they do, needs that we can often help fill. The need for acceptance, love, or understanding. When we see these thing, we see Jesus in everyone, and our eyes are opened.
Is this easy? Of course not! It is nearly impossible. But nothing is impossible with God. Lord, may my eyes be opened to see.
Friday, June 18, 2010
Further Evidence I'm Failing Completely As A Parent
Joey: I'm bored.
Me: Don't ever say that in this house or you'll quickly find yourself doing manual labor.
A pause...
Joey: OK, then. I'm unsatisfied with today's entertainment.
Me: Don't ever say that in this house or you'll quickly find yourself doing manual labor.
A pause...
Joey: OK, then. I'm unsatisfied with today's entertainment.
Thursday, June 10, 2010
Relief
Scan results just came in...
I am stable, with virtually no change from prior scan. This is fantastic news--may I continue to enjoy this kind of news for decades to come.
It is always nerve-wracking waiting for scan results, but this time was worse than usual. About two weeks ago I discovered a new lump in my breast, similar to and in the same location as the most stubborn one I had before. I was hoping it was all in my head, but my nurse practitioner confirmed it and sent me for scans right away, a week and a half ahead of schedule.
I did not share this news with anyone, as I did not want to take the people who love me and suffer along with me on a roller coaster ride of worry and waiting. I figured bad news wouldn't go away, so I could share it when it was confirmed rather than suspected, thereby alleviating some stress for those who I so hate to hurt. As you all know, I am usually quite open so it was nearly as difficult for me to keep my mouth shut about all of this as it was to wait, but I am glad I did. See how much worry I saved you all?
So, when the results came in today with no metabolic activity or masses noted, it was not what I expected at all, and it would be difficult to exaggerate the relief that flowed through me upon hearing the news. I was prepared for all sorts of things--new, nastier chemo, immediate surgery, short life-span, you name it. I had not even considered "stable scan" as one of the likely outcomes, so I am nothing short of delighted.
As for the lump? I don't know for sure what it is, but since it appeared at the same time I came out of my chemically-induced menopause, it is likely hormonal in nature. Perhaps it is scar tissue from the previous mass that will flare up monthly. Perhaps it is necrotic tissue that is settling. Whatever it is, it is not cancer, and I feel as if I have been given a new chance at life all over again.
This scare has been good for me. Over the past few months of good news, I have slowly come to take for granted that I am on a path to being cured. It is never good to feel confident about something like this, and I have been shocked into remembering this. I am back to being supremely grateful for each nine week block of "good scan" and not looking toward anything else. I am more thankful than ever for my faith, and I thank God above all for this good news.
I will always worry that the cancer is returning--I will live in it's shadow forever, no matter how well I am doing. Any pain I have is cause for concern, and any lump or swollen lymph node will be a major drama. But as long as my faith remains strong, I will not be afraid. Concern is quite different than fear, as it is productive. I can watch for early signs, take better care of myself and continue on my medication because I am concerned about my health. But fear, which is pointless, is not part of my plan--and this is a fruit of faith.
Thanks for your continued prayers for my healing. They are obviously working!
I am stable, with virtually no change from prior scan. This is fantastic news--may I continue to enjoy this kind of news for decades to come.
It is always nerve-wracking waiting for scan results, but this time was worse than usual. About two weeks ago I discovered a new lump in my breast, similar to and in the same location as the most stubborn one I had before. I was hoping it was all in my head, but my nurse practitioner confirmed it and sent me for scans right away, a week and a half ahead of schedule.
I did not share this news with anyone, as I did not want to take the people who love me and suffer along with me on a roller coaster ride of worry and waiting. I figured bad news wouldn't go away, so I could share it when it was confirmed rather than suspected, thereby alleviating some stress for those who I so hate to hurt. As you all know, I am usually quite open so it was nearly as difficult for me to keep my mouth shut about all of this as it was to wait, but I am glad I did. See how much worry I saved you all?
So, when the results came in today with no metabolic activity or masses noted, it was not what I expected at all, and it would be difficult to exaggerate the relief that flowed through me upon hearing the news. I was prepared for all sorts of things--new, nastier chemo, immediate surgery, short life-span, you name it. I had not even considered "stable scan" as one of the likely outcomes, so I am nothing short of delighted.
As for the lump? I don't know for sure what it is, but since it appeared at the same time I came out of my chemically-induced menopause, it is likely hormonal in nature. Perhaps it is scar tissue from the previous mass that will flare up monthly. Perhaps it is necrotic tissue that is settling. Whatever it is, it is not cancer, and I feel as if I have been given a new chance at life all over again.
This scare has been good for me. Over the past few months of good news, I have slowly come to take for granted that I am on a path to being cured. It is never good to feel confident about something like this, and I have been shocked into remembering this. I am back to being supremely grateful for each nine week block of "good scan" and not looking toward anything else. I am more thankful than ever for my faith, and I thank God above all for this good news.
I will always worry that the cancer is returning--I will live in it's shadow forever, no matter how well I am doing. Any pain I have is cause for concern, and any lump or swollen lymph node will be a major drama. But as long as my faith remains strong, I will not be afraid. Concern is quite different than fear, as it is productive. I can watch for early signs, take better care of myself and continue on my medication because I am concerned about my health. But fear, which is pointless, is not part of my plan--and this is a fruit of faith.
Thanks for your continued prayers for my healing. They are obviously working!
Sunday, June 06, 2010
What A Blessing!
Today our parish community gathered together outside in a ground blessing mass on the property recently acquired for our new church building. And what a blessing it was.
An estimated 2500 people attended what we believe to be the largest mass the Antelope Valley has ever had. Four priests concelebrated, three deacons and our pastoral intern served the mass, and voices and instruments from all four of our diverse music ministries joined together as one. The Knights of Columbus turned out in full regalia, adding to the ceremony of it all. It was nothing short of exhilarating.
And hot. But back to the exhilarating part...
Each parish family in attendance brought with them a small jar filled with dirt from their own home. As the gifts were being prepared, the families came up one by one and poured their dirt into a large clay jar. This dirt, representing the individual families that make up our church, will be used in the foundation of the new building. I was brought to tears many times during the mass, but most decidedly while watching these families, many of whom I know so well, offer their piece of the church's foundation. I am a sucker for symbolism, and this mass was chock full of it.
The very best part I did not even see--it was later reported to me by several who had seen it. At the moment of the consecration, three white doves flew over the altar. It seemed, to those who witnessed it, that it must have been planned, so perfectly timed it was. Indeed, it was planned, but not by those who arranged for the mass! Hearing about it gave me chills. Indeed the ground has been blessed today.
I can't wait to see the new church take shape. In the meantime, it's not just the ground that has been blessed--it is all of us who are part of this historic event.
An estimated 2500 people attended what we believe to be the largest mass the Antelope Valley has ever had. Four priests concelebrated, three deacons and our pastoral intern served the mass, and voices and instruments from all four of our diverse music ministries joined together as one. The Knights of Columbus turned out in full regalia, adding to the ceremony of it all. It was nothing short of exhilarating.
And hot. But back to the exhilarating part...
Each parish family in attendance brought with them a small jar filled with dirt from their own home. As the gifts were being prepared, the families came up one by one and poured their dirt into a large clay jar. This dirt, representing the individual families that make up our church, will be used in the foundation of the new building. I was brought to tears many times during the mass, but most decidedly while watching these families, many of whom I know so well, offer their piece of the church's foundation. I am a sucker for symbolism, and this mass was chock full of it.
The very best part I did not even see--it was later reported to me by several who had seen it. At the moment of the consecration, three white doves flew over the altar. It seemed, to those who witnessed it, that it must have been planned, so perfectly timed it was. Indeed, it was planned, but not by those who arranged for the mass! Hearing about it gave me chills. Indeed the ground has been blessed today.
I can't wait to see the new church take shape. In the meantime, it's not just the ground that has been blessed--it is all of us who are part of this historic event.
Thursday, June 03, 2010
Slick
On my way to UCLA on Monday my doctor called me. This is highly unusual, particularly since I had an appointment to see him 30 minutes from then. I didn't figure it could be for any good reason and, indeed, it wasn't.
He proceeded to tell me that he had just learned from the medicine manufacturer that there had been a contamination of silicone in all the medicine of a particular lot, the lot that all of my doses so far had come from. Kindly, he explained that the amount of silicone I received intravenously was 100 times less than the amount known to be toxic to humans but, of course, he had to let me know since it was an unexpected ingredient and because it is probably not generally a good idea to send unregulated silicone coursing through one's circulatory system.
Naturally, I questioned him as to what I might expect, what I should look out for, etc. He did not really know but assured me that any physical complaint I have will be looked at carefully for its possible involvement with this. Bottom line is, he doesn't really expect me to be affected by this one way or the other but did need to let me know.
Later, when I saw him in the office, he half-jokingly said that he hoped it wasn't the silicone that had caused my tumors to shrink. He went on to explain that, really, oncology was all about injecting people with toxic chemicals in the hopes that they will kill the cancer without killing the patient. So, there is nothing revolutionary about being infused with silicone, even accidentally, and perhaps it has even contributed to the positive effect this medicine has had one me. In fact, he went so far as to ask the manufacturer to hold rather than discard this lot in case the efficacy drops with the removal of the silicone. Educated trial and error, that's what it all is at the end of the day.
As for me, I am not alarmed in the slightest about this turn of events, simply because of what my alternative is. Would I have skipped receiving this medicine if I had known? NO! Would I stop taking it now because I think the manufacturer might make a similar mistake? NO! This medicine is not a "nice to have". It is keeping me alive, additives and all, so I have no beef. As part of his legal obligation to me, my doctor had to formally ask me if I now wished to be removed from the trial. I actually laughed.
So, I am now thinking of all the great things that might come of having a body full of silicone. Well-oiled joints? Veins like slip-n-slides? A heart that just got a great lube job? Who knows? But it's kind of exciting to be a guinea pig.
He proceeded to tell me that he had just learned from the medicine manufacturer that there had been a contamination of silicone in all the medicine of a particular lot, the lot that all of my doses so far had come from. Kindly, he explained that the amount of silicone I received intravenously was 100 times less than the amount known to be toxic to humans but, of course, he had to let me know since it was an unexpected ingredient and because it is probably not generally a good idea to send unregulated silicone coursing through one's circulatory system.
Naturally, I questioned him as to what I might expect, what I should look out for, etc. He did not really know but assured me that any physical complaint I have will be looked at carefully for its possible involvement with this. Bottom line is, he doesn't really expect me to be affected by this one way or the other but did need to let me know.
Later, when I saw him in the office, he half-jokingly said that he hoped it wasn't the silicone that had caused my tumors to shrink. He went on to explain that, really, oncology was all about injecting people with toxic chemicals in the hopes that they will kill the cancer without killing the patient. So, there is nothing revolutionary about being infused with silicone, even accidentally, and perhaps it has even contributed to the positive effect this medicine has had one me. In fact, he went so far as to ask the manufacturer to hold rather than discard this lot in case the efficacy drops with the removal of the silicone. Educated trial and error, that's what it all is at the end of the day.
As for me, I am not alarmed in the slightest about this turn of events, simply because of what my alternative is. Would I have skipped receiving this medicine if I had known? NO! Would I stop taking it now because I think the manufacturer might make a similar mistake? NO! This medicine is not a "nice to have". It is keeping me alive, additives and all, so I have no beef. As part of his legal obligation to me, my doctor had to formally ask me if I now wished to be removed from the trial. I actually laughed.
So, I am now thinking of all the great things that might come of having a body full of silicone. Well-oiled joints? Veins like slip-n-slides? A heart that just got a great lube job? Who knows? But it's kind of exciting to be a guinea pig.
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
Yet Another Benefit of Cancer?
When I picked Joey up from school today he asked me if he could go to a friend's house. I said he could but that he had to be home by 6:30 because we were all going to sit down for dinner together.
This is something we used to do regularly before I began treatments. Now, unfortunately, this is pretty rare for our family. We have become a group of "grab and go" or "eat at the kitchen island" people. I do not like this at all and am trying to get us back to regular, or at least not infrequent, family dinners at the table. Of course, this requires energy, something I have been lacking more often than not over the past six months.
The kids, for some reason I cannot understand at all, hate it when we all sit down for dinner together. They fight this tooth and nail, and complain loudly whenever they hear it might be on the horizon. I, on the other hand, think it's great. We all talk about our days, what's going on, and things that are coming up.
Tonight I made, literally, the ONLY dish that everyone in our family likes--Chicken Almendras (chicken in an almond and tomatillo sauce). I thought this might ease everyone back into family dinner.
When I told Joey we were having dinner together, his first comment was, "Awww, man!" Shortly after he added, "What are we having?" When I told him, he said it was almost worth it, but not quite.
After a few moments he asked, "Mom, when is your next treatment?" I answered, "Tuesday, why?" He grinned and didn't say anything, so it dawned on me--I am too tired the week of treatment to cook, so we are definitely not sitting down together for dinner on treatment weeks.
I laughed and said, "Do I have a little too much energy for you right now?" He admitted I did and then said, "But when you have treatment I don't have any clean clothes for a few days, so I don't know which is better."
Who knew that there was yet another unexpected benefit of my cancer, at least as far as my children are concerned--fewer family dinners! But maybe clean jeans trump it. Just maybe.
This is something we used to do regularly before I began treatments. Now, unfortunately, this is pretty rare for our family. We have become a group of "grab and go" or "eat at the kitchen island" people. I do not like this at all and am trying to get us back to regular, or at least not infrequent, family dinners at the table. Of course, this requires energy, something I have been lacking more often than not over the past six months.
The kids, for some reason I cannot understand at all, hate it when we all sit down for dinner together. They fight this tooth and nail, and complain loudly whenever they hear it might be on the horizon. I, on the other hand, think it's great. We all talk about our days, what's going on, and things that are coming up.
Tonight I made, literally, the ONLY dish that everyone in our family likes--Chicken Almendras (chicken in an almond and tomatillo sauce). I thought this might ease everyone back into family dinner.
When I told Joey we were having dinner together, his first comment was, "Awww, man!" Shortly after he added, "What are we having?" When I told him, he said it was almost worth it, but not quite.
After a few moments he asked, "Mom, when is your next treatment?" I answered, "Tuesday, why?" He grinned and didn't say anything, so it dawned on me--I am too tired the week of treatment to cook, so we are definitely not sitting down together for dinner on treatment weeks.
I laughed and said, "Do I have a little too much energy for you right now?" He admitted I did and then said, "But when you have treatment I don't have any clean clothes for a few days, so I don't know which is better."
Who knew that there was yet another unexpected benefit of my cancer, at least as far as my children are concerned--fewer family dinners! But maybe clean jeans trump it. Just maybe.
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
Lindsey the Lung
Warning: shameless bragging about to commence, but this mom is totally delighted.
Lindsey was in her class play on Friday, and she was great! I had no idea she could sing so well. I know this sounds crazy since she sings all the time around the house, but as I know from experience, singing with a microphone is a whole different ballgame. I knew she could carry a tune, but until I heard her amplified, I didn't know how clear her voice was. She loves to sing, so I am so happy for her that she does it well. Singing will hopefully bring her great joy in her life, as it does to me in mine.
It wasn't just Lindsey who did well--the entire 4th grade class turned out an amazing performance. I found myself completely entertained during the entire show. It was funny, the kids were all perfect in their roles and the whole thing was obviously very well rehearsed. Nice job, kids!
Here is a link to her song, beautifully shared by her good friend. Lindsey is the one in the red hairbows. Enjoy...I sure did!
Lindsey was in her class play on Friday, and she was great! I had no idea she could sing so well. I know this sounds crazy since she sings all the time around the house, but as I know from experience, singing with a microphone is a whole different ballgame. I knew she could carry a tune, but until I heard her amplified, I didn't know how clear her voice was. She loves to sing, so I am so happy for her that she does it well. Singing will hopefully bring her great joy in her life, as it does to me in mine.
It wasn't just Lindsey who did well--the entire 4th grade class turned out an amazing performance. I found myself completely entertained during the entire show. It was funny, the kids were all perfect in their roles and the whole thing was obviously very well rehearsed. Nice job, kids!
Here is a link to her song, beautifully shared by her good friend. Lindsey is the one in the red hairbows. Enjoy...I sure did!
Saturday, May 22, 2010
Best Vacation Ever
Well, if there is one thing we've learned this year, it's that life can be short. So, last Saturday we said, the heck with it, let's USE all those frequent flier miles and hotel points that Jay has been racking up for the past several years and take the family to Hawaii. So, with one week's notice, we went, and, I'm so glad we did.
The thing that lit our fire was that Jay won some money last month in a programming competition that his company sponsored (great job, honey, we're so proud of you!). The contest required that he be gone over a weekend, which piggybacked with some client calls, so we endured nine long days without him. When he placed second, securing a cash prize, he decided that we should use it to do something together to make up for the time we were apart. With the hotel and flights handled with miles and points, this money covered the remaining trip expenses so it was truly one of those perfect storms that had to be taken advantage of.
For the first time we went to the island of Kauai. I've been to Maui twice and Oahu twice and, while I certainly enjoyed them, I never really understood why Hawaii is considered such a BIG DEAL. In general, I prefer the Mexican Carribean, but since the kids don't have current passports, that was not an option for us. However, after this trip I now GET Hawaii. I can't imagine that there is a more beautiful place on earth than Kauai. We stayed on the sunny southern part at Poipu Beach, but my favorite place was at the north. It was "stop the car and let the jaw hang open" beautiful. Here is a picture of our whole family at Haena Beach. Note the rainbow behind us...it is the perfect representation of how blessed our time there was.
We spent six days at the Marriott Waiohai Beach Club, a collection of time-share condos. These were perfect accomodations for us as they were equipped with full kitchens and laundry in the rooms. When we arrived, we went to Costco and stocked the kitchen, and we ate every meal right there in our little condo. Restaurants with all the kids are miserable in addition to being expensive, so this was great! Here is the view of part of the enormous pool, with some of the kids in the hot tub.
Here is Lindsey next to one of the many monk seals we saw on the island. They climbed right up on the beach to snooze, seemingly unfazed by people.
Joey's birthday was on Thursday, so for his present he and Jay went on a series of zip lines. We have some great videos of Joey zipping along with a gargantuan smile.
Tony and Bella spent some quality time together while the older kids were out snorkeling...
Here is our family at the "Grand Canyon" of Kauai. Pretty impressive. (I'm referring to the canyon, but the family isn't bad either!)
The kids had so much fun just rolling around in the surf.
Natalie wasn't too sure about the ocean, but she loved the sand.
The snorkeling was amazing right outside our hotel. I went every day we were there, swimming from reef to reef looking at all kinds of tropical fish, including Nemo. The kids saw a sea turtle while snorkeling, but I didn't see one until the day we went to Haena Beach and I spotted one swimming just offshore.
The best part wasn't even where we were, (although we couldn't have been anywhere better)...it was just that we were all together, away from everything that pulls us in nine different directions during our everyday life. It was really seeing and hearing the kids and eachother, saying "OK" instead of "not now". I will never, ever forget this time we had.
Here is our family at the "Grand Canyon" of Kauai. Pretty impressive. (I'm referring to the canyon, but the family isn't bad either!)
The kids had so much fun just rolling around in the surf.
Natalie wasn't too sure about the ocean, but she loved the sand.
The snorkeling was amazing right outside our hotel. I went every day we were there, swimming from reef to reef looking at all kinds of tropical fish, including Nemo. The kids saw a sea turtle while snorkeling, but I didn't see one until the day we went to Haena Beach and I spotted one swimming just offshore. The best part wasn't even where we were, (although we couldn't have been anywhere better)...it was just that we were all together, away from everything that pulls us in nine different directions during our everyday life. It was really seeing and hearing the kids and eachother, saying "OK" instead of "not now". I will never, ever forget this time we had.
Friday, May 21, 2010
Blog Not Abandoned
Seriously. It's owner has just been on vacation.
I will post in the next day or two about our amazingly wonderful family vacation to Kauai, pictures and all.
I meant to do it today, but when I happened to log onto Google today I got sucked into the 30th anniversary of Pacman and wasted at least 15 minutes playing the pop-up game instead of completing the search I intended to do. I wonder how many hours of productivity were lost worldwide today because of this? It is possible that our GDP actually went down today as a result? I know mine did. But, truthfully, after three hours of sleep on the red-eye last night sandwiched between Bella and Natalie, I was pretty distractable today anyway. I can't blame it all on Google.
So, here's to being back in my own bed, a full night's sleep (I hope!) and lots more blogging this week. Promise!
I will post in the next day or two about our amazingly wonderful family vacation to Kauai, pictures and all.
I meant to do it today, but when I happened to log onto Google today I got sucked into the 30th anniversary of Pacman and wasted at least 15 minutes playing the pop-up game instead of completing the search I intended to do. I wonder how many hours of productivity were lost worldwide today because of this? It is possible that our GDP actually went down today as a result? I know mine did. But, truthfully, after three hours of sleep on the red-eye last night sandwiched between Bella and Natalie, I was pretty distractable today anyway. I can't blame it all on Google.
So, here's to being back in my own bed, a full night's sleep (I hope!) and lots more blogging this week. Promise!
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
At Least I'm Predictable
My neighbor Robin took the kids to school this morning. I sent them over to her house in a rush and then hurried out to door to drive Joey to his different school. As always, I left their lunches on the counter for them to pick up and put in their own backpacks.
As I was pulling out of my garage, I noticed Robin returning to her house, obviously for an item left behind. She, like I, always asks as she pulls away, "Does everyone have their backpacks/lunches/sweaters/belts?" and the kids have an opportunity to double check.
This morning, one of her children had left lunch behind. Sam, in his wisdom (and extensive experience), said to the crowd in the car, "My parents wouldn't have turned around to get that. They would have told me too bad." (This would only be true if we had already left the neighborhood, but that is tangential...)
Imagine my amusement, then, when the phone rang at 11:59am. It was Sam, letting me know he had left his own lunch behind, in hopes that I might do something about it. Clearly, he was too busy spouting his wisdom to check for his lunch when given the opportunity.
The call was not necessary, because he had accurately shown earlier that morning that he knew exactly what my answer would be.
As I was pulling out of my garage, I noticed Robin returning to her house, obviously for an item left behind. She, like I, always asks as she pulls away, "Does everyone have their backpacks/lunches/sweaters/belts?" and the kids have an opportunity to double check.
This morning, one of her children had left lunch behind. Sam, in his wisdom (and extensive experience), said to the crowd in the car, "My parents wouldn't have turned around to get that. They would have told me too bad." (This would only be true if we had already left the neighborhood, but that is tangential...)
Imagine my amusement, then, when the phone rang at 11:59am. It was Sam, letting me know he had left his own lunch behind, in hopes that I might do something about it. Clearly, he was too busy spouting his wisdom to check for his lunch when given the opportunity.
The call was not necessary, because he had accurately shown earlier that morning that he knew exactly what my answer would be.
Sunday, May 09, 2010
Happy Mother's Day!
Bella climbed into bed with me bright and early and said excitedly, "Happy Mother's Day! What did you get me?"
It was an amusing (and apropos) way to begin a lovely day with my family. Jay made eggs benedict, among other things, for me and our two mothers, and I got to see my friend Angela received into the church during mass this morning. A good day, I'd say!
One of the best parts? The poem Lindsey composed for me. Apparently, love for the rhyme runs in the family! Here it is:
Your hair of golden brown
Your feet as big as a clown
Oops, I didn't mean to make you frown
I'll turn that frown upside down
You're my only mom around
And the smartest girl in town
Happy Mother's Day to all you moms out there. Isn't it nice to be appreciated? (Foot comment notwithstanding, of course...)
It was an amusing (and apropos) way to begin a lovely day with my family. Jay made eggs benedict, among other things, for me and our two mothers, and I got to see my friend Angela received into the church during mass this morning. A good day, I'd say!
One of the best parts? The poem Lindsey composed for me. Apparently, love for the rhyme runs in the family! Here it is:
Your hair of golden brown
Your feet as big as a clown
Oops, I didn't mean to make you frown
I'll turn that frown upside down
You're my only mom around
And the smartest girl in town
Happy Mother's Day to all you moms out there. Isn't it nice to be appreciated? (Foot comment notwithstanding, of course...)
Thursday, May 06, 2010
Yep, That About Sums it Up
Bella woke from her nap, looked at me sitting next to her, and said with a touch of panic...
"Mom, I want...I want...I want...everything!"
Don't I know it.
"Mom, I want...I want...I want...everything!"
Don't I know it.
Wednesday, May 05, 2010
Au Contraire
Tonight I took Joey over to Joe Walker, the middle school he will be attending this fall. He was encouraged by his teachers to apply to a program called AVID, which encourages students along the path to college. Among other things, it focuses on teaching students the organizational and writing skills necessary to get accepted to and succeed in four year universities.
It is crazy enough that I have a middle-school aged child...do I really have to be thinking about college already? Apparently, I do, and so does Joey.
Joey did not want to go. AT ALL. He wanted no part of this AVID business, no part of the informational meeting about it, nothing whatsoever that might separate him from the average student. He could not articulate to me why he was so opposed to this, just that he was, and he dug in his heels with complete obstinance.
Because I respect Joey's teachers so much, I did not waiver. If they believed that this program would particularly benefit Joey, I was at least going to learn more about it. Joey has become an A and B student under their guidance, and they know his particular challenges well. His success in school is still new, possibly fragile, and I will do anything I can to protect it.
So off we went. Me smiling, chattering away; Joey silent and sullen. When we arrived he would not get out of the car. I marched right in, knowing he would eventually follow me. He did, but the hostility was palpable. Luckily, his two best friends from school were there so I had enough credibility to at least get him in the room.
Quite unfortunately, I realized immediately that this was not just information night, but it was application night too. As soon as we checked in, the proctor called Joey in to write an essay, to be followed by an interview.
I almost died.
Joey despises writing, strongly objects to any work he can avoid and didn't want to even attend an informational meeting on this program, much less apply to it. I held my breath waiting to see what he would do. To my complete surprise and delight, he hesitated just a moment, then said, "OK" and followed the proctor. I went into the parent presentation and waited.
When Joey met me after his essay and interview, I could immediately sense the change in his demeanor. He really clicked with the teacher who interviewed him, so much so that he took me over to meet her. Turns out, she is the language arts teacher for 7th graders on the AVID track. My first positive indicator was his question, "You mean that I'd definitely get her for language arts if I do this program?"
I learned in the parent program that only 25-35 7th graders will be enrolled in AVID out of several hundred, so I told Joey that we would have to wait and see if he was accepted into the program, that he might not get to choose. He stopped, looked surprised and said, "You mean some people aren't going to get in? Then I TOTALLY want to do this!"
Nothing like a little competition to get him revved up.
The rest of the evening was spent discussing why he thinks he'll get in, why this is such a good program for him, and what college he wants to get in to.
Isn't that human nature? Alive and well in my son.
It is crazy enough that I have a middle-school aged child...do I really have to be thinking about college already? Apparently, I do, and so does Joey.
Joey did not want to go. AT ALL. He wanted no part of this AVID business, no part of the informational meeting about it, nothing whatsoever that might separate him from the average student. He could not articulate to me why he was so opposed to this, just that he was, and he dug in his heels with complete obstinance.
Because I respect Joey's teachers so much, I did not waiver. If they believed that this program would particularly benefit Joey, I was at least going to learn more about it. Joey has become an A and B student under their guidance, and they know his particular challenges well. His success in school is still new, possibly fragile, and I will do anything I can to protect it.
So off we went. Me smiling, chattering away; Joey silent and sullen. When we arrived he would not get out of the car. I marched right in, knowing he would eventually follow me. He did, but the hostility was palpable. Luckily, his two best friends from school were there so I had enough credibility to at least get him in the room.
Quite unfortunately, I realized immediately that this was not just information night, but it was application night too. As soon as we checked in, the proctor called Joey in to write an essay, to be followed by an interview.
I almost died.
Joey despises writing, strongly objects to any work he can avoid and didn't want to even attend an informational meeting on this program, much less apply to it. I held my breath waiting to see what he would do. To my complete surprise and delight, he hesitated just a moment, then said, "OK" and followed the proctor. I went into the parent presentation and waited.
When Joey met me after his essay and interview, I could immediately sense the change in his demeanor. He really clicked with the teacher who interviewed him, so much so that he took me over to meet her. Turns out, she is the language arts teacher for 7th graders on the AVID track. My first positive indicator was his question, "You mean that I'd definitely get her for language arts if I do this program?"
I learned in the parent program that only 25-35 7th graders will be enrolled in AVID out of several hundred, so I told Joey that we would have to wait and see if he was accepted into the program, that he might not get to choose. He stopped, looked surprised and said, "You mean some people aren't going to get in? Then I TOTALLY want to do this!"
Nothing like a little competition to get him revved up.
The rest of the evening was spent discussing why he thinks he'll get in, why this is such a good program for him, and what college he wants to get in to.
Isn't that human nature? Alive and well in my son.
Monday, May 03, 2010
Requested
Last week I had the opportunity to thank the students of Sacred Heart School (SHS, as referenced below) who have been praying for me so diligently both in their classrooms and at home with their families. I attended the morning assembly and read a poem that I wrote for them, letting them know that their prayers are working.
I have had some requests to post that poem, so here it is...
Prayers Answered
Six months ago, dear SHS
You heard that I was ill
My family asked you all, “Please pray!”
And you all said, “We will!”
Then pray you did from that day on
So much I cannot tell
You offered up your sacrifice
That God might make me well
From day to day you never stopped
In asking for my cure
Now, did you know, of all the prayers,
That children’s are most pure?
The prayers you say go straight to God
In quite a special way
He listens to your hopes and thoughts
And every word you say
How blessed I am to have you all
As soldiers in this war
Because with you all on my side
I’m winning more and more
Thanks be to God, I’m getting well
In part, because of you
I was not sure I ever would
But now I know it’s true
God heard our prayers and answered them
According to His will
Now please don’t stop those prayers quite yet
Because I need them still
I have some road to travel down
My journey’s not quite done
But when I reach the end of this
I hope to say, “I won!”
I want to thank you, each and all
For keeping me in prayer
I’ve never been alone through this
Because you’ve all been there
But most of all I hope you know
How much that you can do
By praying for the things you need
The What, the When, the Who
God loves you and He wants you to
Approach Him with your needs
So keep Him close and talk to Him
And follow where He leads
I have had some requests to post that poem, so here it is...
Prayers Answered
Six months ago, dear SHS
You heard that I was ill
My family asked you all, “Please pray!”
And you all said, “We will!”
Then pray you did from that day on
So much I cannot tell
You offered up your sacrifice
That God might make me well
From day to day you never stopped
In asking for my cure
Now, did you know, of all the prayers,
That children’s are most pure?
The prayers you say go straight to God
In quite a special way
He listens to your hopes and thoughts
And every word you say
How blessed I am to have you all
As soldiers in this war
Because with you all on my side
I’m winning more and more
Thanks be to God, I’m getting well
In part, because of you
I was not sure I ever would
But now I know it’s true
God heard our prayers and answered them
According to His will
Now please don’t stop those prayers quite yet
Because I need them still
I have some road to travel down
My journey’s not quite done
But when I reach the end of this
I hope to say, “I won!”
I want to thank you, each and all
For keeping me in prayer
I’ve never been alone through this
Because you’ve all been there
But most of all I hope you know
How much that you can do
By praying for the things you need
The What, the When, the Who
God loves you and He wants you to
Approach Him with your needs
So keep Him close and talk to Him
And follow where He leads
Wednesday, April 28, 2010
This Could Only Happen To Joey
Tonight our whole family went to a Jethawks game (our local minor league baseball team).
We don't often do this unless it is a special event (like Scout night), simply because doing anything with seven children is not only labor intensive, but expensive as well. However, we went to just an ordinary game tonight because we picked up some tickets from the Knights of Columbus (thanks, guys!) that made it much more feasible to squeeze our entire family into the stadium.
It started off on a good note, because we ran into Joey's football coach and two boys from his team. It continued to go well, as Natalie enjoyed climbing up and down the aisles and generally left us in peace, and Bella loved Kaboom (the giant bird mascot). Everyone was warm enough (until Natalie dumped an entire bottle of water on my jeans, that is), no one begged to go on the ever-present inflatable jumpers.
The real kicker came, however, when Lindsey ventured into the gift shop to buy a baseball with money she had brought. It was a "photo ball" and had a collage of five or six snapshots of players and fans running around it.
As we were about to leave, she asked if she could unwrap it and have Kaboom sign it for her. I said she could and she started to skip off to find him. She didn't get far before she came running back and said, "Mom, this looks like Joey!"
Sure enough, one of the photos on the ball was very clearly of Joey, getting something signed by Kaboom. We are guessing the shot is from two years ago, but are not entirely sure. Given that we go to two or three Jethawks games a year, it was absolutely shocking to me to see him on the ball. What are the chances?! Further, what were the chances that Lindsey would decide to bring money and buy that, of all things, in the gift shop? We could easily have never even known.
By this time, Sam had tuned into what was going on and said, "I almost always follow Joey, so if he's in the picture, I probably am too." Darned if he wasn't right. He is standing behind Joey, wearing his Cub Scout shirt, although his arm is in front of his face so only I would know it was him. Still, he was beaming to be included, no matter how obscurely. (I later joked with him that he was just like Mike in Monsters, Inc. when he kept getting covered up in the company's ads.)
Needless to say, we ran back in and bought three more balls. So far.
We don't often do this unless it is a special event (like Scout night), simply because doing anything with seven children is not only labor intensive, but expensive as well. However, we went to just an ordinary game tonight because we picked up some tickets from the Knights of Columbus (thanks, guys!) that made it much more feasible to squeeze our entire family into the stadium.
It started off on a good note, because we ran into Joey's football coach and two boys from his team. It continued to go well, as Natalie enjoyed climbing up and down the aisles and generally left us in peace, and Bella loved Kaboom (the giant bird mascot). Everyone was warm enough (until Natalie dumped an entire bottle of water on my jeans, that is), no one begged to go on the ever-present inflatable jumpers.
The real kicker came, however, when Lindsey ventured into the gift shop to buy a baseball with money she had brought. It was a "photo ball" and had a collage of five or six snapshots of players and fans running around it.
As we were about to leave, she asked if she could unwrap it and have Kaboom sign it for her. I said she could and she started to skip off to find him. She didn't get far before she came running back and said, "Mom, this looks like Joey!"
Sure enough, one of the photos on the ball was very clearly of Joey, getting something signed by Kaboom. We are guessing the shot is from two years ago, but are not entirely sure. Given that we go to two or three Jethawks games a year, it was absolutely shocking to me to see him on the ball. What are the chances?! Further, what were the chances that Lindsey would decide to bring money and buy that, of all things, in the gift shop? We could easily have never even known.
By this time, Sam had tuned into what was going on and said, "I almost always follow Joey, so if he's in the picture, I probably am too." Darned if he wasn't right. He is standing behind Joey, wearing his Cub Scout shirt, although his arm is in front of his face so only I would know it was him. Still, he was beaming to be included, no matter how obscurely. (I later joked with him that he was just like Mike in Monsters, Inc. when he kept getting covered up in the company's ads.)
Needless to say, we ran back in and bought three more balls. So far.
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
Re-Entry
I have had the absolute pleasure of spending the better part of the last week just outside of Cancun, Mexico in a beautiful resort with my dear friend Jennifer in honor of her 40th birthday. Jennifer's very generous husband sent us away as his gift to her (since she didn't really want the big party he was willing to throw for her).
Thanks to family and friends, not to mention Jay's complete support and encouragement, I was able to spend 5 days away from home reading, relaxing, napping and eating way too much. Of course, the best part was being with Jennifer, who I have missed so much since she moved to Texas years ago. We tend, when we are together, to revert back to the age we were when we met (that would be eight years old) and end up laughing about completely immature and ridiculous things, and this visit was no exception. I laughed an awful lot and had a really good time.
Naturally, I missed my family and was thrilled to find them all waiting at the airport in a row when I arrived. I was relaxed, my buttons were all reset, and I was ready to face the mountain of laundry that I knew was awaiting me at home.
This is where things started to get a little squirrely.
About half way home I started to feel not so well. I figured it was because I had to get up really early to catch my flight and just needed to sleep, so I went to bed pretty quickly when I got home. The next morning (Monday) I went down to UCLA for my usual blood draw. My neighbor Robin went with me so I could bring the kids with me--I did not want to leave them so soon after just returning. I was feeling fine, thinking that the sleep had done me good. And this was indeed the case, until I had something to eat.
When Robin and I stopped for lunch on the way home (at a really cute kids-only restaurant, but that is another story) I started to feel really bad. I was suddenly very glad she had come with me so she could drive.
Not long after I got home I spiked a fever, so I emailed my oncologist to let him know. His nurse practitioner emailed me right back and told me to go to the ER because, apparently, a fever can be a big deal when you are going through chemo because of potential problems with white blood cells. Feeling a little ridiculous, I went.
To make a long story short, after a bunch of bloodwork and some X-Rays, the ER docs concluded that I had a fever, probably from a virus. Since my white blood counts were OK, they sent me home around midnight. Far from making me feel silly for coming in, the ER staff from start to finish was great, assuring me that my oncologist had done the right thing by sending me in, and even giving me a private room (those of you who have been to the AV Hospital ER know that this is no small thing). I was consistently surprised by how seriously my little fever was taken by all involved, and I felt very well cared for.
One might think the story ends there, but alas it does not. About a half hour after I fell into bed, exhausted, Tony began to throw up. This repeated every two to three hours throughout the night, and not once did he make it without soiling his pajamas and bedding in the process. Even with the middle-of-the-night laundry load, I had to do four loads today just to get back to the beginning of the enormous pile that had been awaiting my return in the first place.
Today my fever is gone and Tony is better too. I am reassured that all this has nothing to do with the cancer and is, instead, some sort of virus. Everyone gets sick, and not every ache or pain I have is cancer-related, although it is hard to remember this when it is happening.
So, here's to vacations...and the inevitable crash when we return home from them!
Thanks to family and friends, not to mention Jay's complete support and encouragement, I was able to spend 5 days away from home reading, relaxing, napping and eating way too much. Of course, the best part was being with Jennifer, who I have missed so much since she moved to Texas years ago. We tend, when we are together, to revert back to the age we were when we met (that would be eight years old) and end up laughing about completely immature and ridiculous things, and this visit was no exception. I laughed an awful lot and had a really good time.
Naturally, I missed my family and was thrilled to find them all waiting at the airport in a row when I arrived. I was relaxed, my buttons were all reset, and I was ready to face the mountain of laundry that I knew was awaiting me at home.
This is where things started to get a little squirrely.
About half way home I started to feel not so well. I figured it was because I had to get up really early to catch my flight and just needed to sleep, so I went to bed pretty quickly when I got home. The next morning (Monday) I went down to UCLA for my usual blood draw. My neighbor Robin went with me so I could bring the kids with me--I did not want to leave them so soon after just returning. I was feeling fine, thinking that the sleep had done me good. And this was indeed the case, until I had something to eat.
When Robin and I stopped for lunch on the way home (at a really cute kids-only restaurant, but that is another story) I started to feel really bad. I was suddenly very glad she had come with me so she could drive.
Not long after I got home I spiked a fever, so I emailed my oncologist to let him know. His nurse practitioner emailed me right back and told me to go to the ER because, apparently, a fever can be a big deal when you are going through chemo because of potential problems with white blood cells. Feeling a little ridiculous, I went.
To make a long story short, after a bunch of bloodwork and some X-Rays, the ER docs concluded that I had a fever, probably from a virus. Since my white blood counts were OK, they sent me home around midnight. Far from making me feel silly for coming in, the ER staff from start to finish was great, assuring me that my oncologist had done the right thing by sending me in, and even giving me a private room (those of you who have been to the AV Hospital ER know that this is no small thing). I was consistently surprised by how seriously my little fever was taken by all involved, and I felt very well cared for.
One might think the story ends there, but alas it does not. About a half hour after I fell into bed, exhausted, Tony began to throw up. This repeated every two to three hours throughout the night, and not once did he make it without soiling his pajamas and bedding in the process. Even with the middle-of-the-night laundry load, I had to do four loads today just to get back to the beginning of the enormous pile that had been awaiting my return in the first place.
Today my fever is gone and Tony is better too. I am reassured that all this has nothing to do with the cancer and is, instead, some sort of virus. Everyone gets sick, and not every ache or pain I have is cancer-related, although it is hard to remember this when it is happening.
So, here's to vacations...and the inevitable crash when we return home from them!
Monday, April 19, 2010
Thanks Be To God
I just got the results of my PET/CT, bone and heart scans, and they could hardly be better. I am actually in shock, as I was prepared mentally for, really, anything.
There is no longer a breast mass of any kind--previously cancerous tissue is indistinguishable from healthy tissue. The bones are no longer active at all and present as "treated", showing only scarring from where the cancer used to be. The liver spots can hardly be seen and are not active at all. Nothing in these three areas is measurable.
The only remaining trouble spots are on two lymph nodes, both of whose tumors are now measured by millimeters rather than centimeters and are no longer active.
Folks, we are on our way to that NED party! Four months ago I didn't actually believe that could ever happen, but I'm a believer now. Thank you all SO MUCH for your prayers throughout (and please don't let up yet!).
Oh, and for all you financiers out there, I might look into a "buy" on Immunogen and/or Genentech stock, because this drug is, clearly, amazing. How blessed I am to have access to it.
There is no longer a breast mass of any kind--previously cancerous tissue is indistinguishable from healthy tissue. The bones are no longer active at all and present as "treated", showing only scarring from where the cancer used to be. The liver spots can hardly be seen and are not active at all. Nothing in these three areas is measurable.
The only remaining trouble spots are on two lymph nodes, both of whose tumors are now measured by millimeters rather than centimeters and are no longer active.
Folks, we are on our way to that NED party! Four months ago I didn't actually believe that could ever happen, but I'm a believer now. Thank you all SO MUCH for your prayers throughout (and please don't let up yet!).
Oh, and for all you financiers out there, I might look into a "buy" on Immunogen and/or Genentech stock, because this drug is, clearly, amazing. How blessed I am to have access to it.
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
Who's Educating Who?
Question on Sam's science homework: How would you describe the surface of the Earth?
Sam's answer: Fun to play on.
I love that kid.
Sam's answer: Fun to play on.
I love that kid.
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
Like Father Like Son
Tony is in a "just like daddy" phase.
Many mornings, he puts on one of Jay's shirts and a pair of his shoes, get his very own Lightning McQueen laptop, pulls up his chair, gets his "coffee" just like dad's (i.e. milk), and starts to work alongside him. He can stay there quietly working next to dad for surprisingly long periods of time, and his attention to detail in imitating his father is quite amazing.
I love seeing how content Tony is when he is with his dad, and how patiently Jay supports his little shadow. I know this phase will end all too soon, so I am trying to absorb every moment.
Oh, and, yes, Jay does work in our master closet, although we have an amply large house for him to have his own office. Why? You guessed it--it's the only place quiet enough for him to take work calls without resonant kid noise! (Good thing he doesn't mind a bit...what a good sport I married.)
Many mornings, he puts on one of Jay's shirts and a pair of his shoes, get his very own Lightning McQueen laptop, pulls up his chair, gets his "coffee" just like dad's (i.e. milk), and starts to work alongside him. He can stay there quietly working next to dad for surprisingly long periods of time, and his attention to detail in imitating his father is quite amazing.
I love seeing how content Tony is when he is with his dad, and how patiently Jay supports his little shadow. I know this phase will end all too soon, so I am trying to absorb every moment.
Oh, and, yes, Jay does work in our master closet, although we have an amply large house for him to have his own office. Why? You guessed it--it's the only place quiet enough for him to take work calls without resonant kid noise! (Good thing he doesn't mind a bit...what a good sport I married.)
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