Visual Goody
First saw this on Sweet and Bitter and absolutely fell in love with Miles Fisher. He’s one talented kid. This video is especially creative. A Talking Heads cover with a video homage to American Psycho. Brilliant.
A Place Of Chaos and Disorder, Otherwise Known As My Life
First saw this on Sweet and Bitter and absolutely fell in love with Miles Fisher. He’s one talented kid. This video is especially creative. A Talking Heads cover with a video homage to American Psycho. Brilliant.
I have been quiet lately. Quiet in life and quiet on the blog. There are so many things going on that anything I thought to blog about seemed trivial and ridiculous.
My mom has breast cancer.
Yup. You read that right.
This is a different cancer from the breast cancer she had in 1998, not a recurrence. But still a total son of a bitch. In 1998, she had a lumpectomy, chemo and radiation.
This time she will have a double mastectomy shortly after Thanksgiving, without reconstruction. Chemo is a definite possibility because the tumor is HER 2+, which basically means it’s an angry little fucker and has a higher rate of recurrence.
My anger has been subsiding and slowly morphing into thinking about what needs to be done. The anger was all consuming in the beginning though. I sobbed I was so angry. Snotty, on my knees in my bathroom, sobbing. I swore like it was my job. Well, I do that anyway…so I swore like it was my second job. I wasn’t angry when I got my own diagnosis. But you mess with my Mom and I’m furious.
I think I’m more numb now. Mom first, then Dad, then me and now Mom again.
Just typing that made me angry again.
I would do this all again so she wouldn’t have to endure any of it. In a heartbeat.
To be completely trite, it just seems unfair.
My sister and I have had countless talks over these last few weeks though and those talks have made me think about things differently. Life is really hard but if you’re lucky, you’ll have lots of wonderful magic sprinkled throughout. We have had LOTS of wonderful magic sprinkled throughout and this is just one more obstacle to overcome. Shitty things happen but it’s how you respond that matters.
We went to lunch after meeting with Dr. K, our handy family breast cancer surgeon.
My mom reminded me of the song “I Whistle a Happy Tune” from the King and I, which we saw with Yul Brenner when we were kids. She sang a little bit as we sat in our cozy booth. (see what I mean about wonderful, magical bits?)
I whistle a happy tune
And ev'ry single time
The happiness in the tune
Convinces me that I'm not afraid.
Make believe you're brave
And the trick will take you far.
You may be as brave
As you make believe you are
You’re the best, Mom, and I’m behind you every step of the way, whistling.
* The pic is of Mom with Luca. He’s 6 months now and CRAWLING.
Finn broke his collarbone today while sledding. My poor baby. He’s handling it like a champ. Ask me in a week though. I was snugged up in bed reading while Peter and a bunch of our neighbors took all of the kids sledding. (I don’t really “do” cold.) Finn crashed into Hadley and this happened. He came home with the tiniest little sling and has to wear it for 2 weeks. It’s his right arm, of course, and he’s not supposed to do anything active for a bit.
Um, have you met Finn? Look up the word “active” and there’s Finn. He’s a man on a mission. And lately with a marker mask. It’s a look.
We’ll see how this goes. His first concern was how was he going to play Atari. Peter, the pack rat, saved his Atari and is only missing one part to get the thing running. Finn is elated and cannot wait to play Pac Man and Frogger and Pitfall.
Hadley has been the most darling little nursemaid. I think she feels responsible because Finn ran into her on the sled.
I’m sucking at the Thursday Loves posts I had intended to be chock full of delicious goodies from the week. What can I say? It’s a work in progress.
Here are some though:
I’m not dead. Just getting over the swine flu, which sucked hard core because along with the the flu, lupus awoke and thought “Oooo! A party!”
I’m over the flu but lupus remains like that one girl at the party who wouldn’t leave until the very end. And even then she may find herself passed out on the couch the next morning, embarrassed because she drooled all over. Nothing that I’m not used to (achy hips, shoulders, knees…) but annoying. I was whining to Peter about feeling cruddy but had to tell myself to suck it up. I was given a reprieve while I was dealing with friggin cancer. I should just be grateful.
Also, I’ve been trying to ignore the headache that I’ve had for 2 weeks. Finally, today I couldn’t take it anymore and dragged ass back to the doctor. She put me on a burst of steroids (6 days worth) hoping to ease the inflammation of what she thinks is a sinus infection. Awesome.
I’m lying down now with earplugs in. Loud (although happy) children + debilitating headache = no bueno.
Forgive me and all of my hideous complaining. I’m so sick of myself I could puke.
The boobs are good. Weird and awkward but no pain and the scars are healing really well. The kids like to say “Jan 6th is when they’ll put in the soft boobs, right?”
Of course, lately ALL of the talk is about Halloween. How many days? How many hours? How many minutes? We carved pumpkins yesterday afternoon and watched “It’s a Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown” while the snow came down. It made me excited to soon bust out A Charlie Brown Christmas by the Vince Guaraldi Trio, my all time fave Christmas album.
I’ll leave you with one of my favorite pieces of art in Denver.
Isn’t it fantastic? It sits right next to the Denver Public Library. I love to imagine that there is a enormous toddler wandering around Denver, who left a toy horse on his chair. I love the randomness of it and the scale.
And how great is the word “fecundity?” Peter used it the other day and I swear I swooned. Then I got out my moleskine to scribble the word down. So many great words…so little time.
I hope your week is shaping up to be a good one.
Shout out to a fellow professional patient. Keep on keeping on, lady. You’re damn funny.
For those of you who were worried I would permanently be shooting rainbows and happiness out of my ass, you can now rest easy.
It ain’t happening.
For a few months now, I have been in fight mode, which for me, involves humor and massive, obnoxious doses of positivity. And the theme from “Rocky” permanently running through my brain. And lots of adrenaline.
Well, I won the battle. The first part anyway. And now the soundtrack in my head has stopped and the adrenaline is seeping out of my body to form a puddle on the floor leaving me tired. What now?
I hear the other voice in my head say “What do you mean? What now? You move on with your life.”
Oh.
I was having this conversation with myself in the shower this morning and I felt, really for the first time, sorry for myself. I don’t want these boobs. I wanted my old boobs that I could actually feel were a part of me.
Things tend to hit me later. I’ve always said that. Especially big things. When trouble arises, I put my head down and get down to business. Then, later I figure it all out emotionally.
Newsflash: I’m not made of Teflon. Or invincible. In fact, acting like a fool probably, we went roller skating on Sunday because the kids were DYING to go. I wanted to go. I felt good! I wanted to be there. With them. For them. I wanted to be present. They were so excited we were ALL skating. I wanted to couples skate and hold Peter’s hand.
And I did.
And it was really fun. So memorable.
I fell though. Hard. And now every time I breath, laugh or blow my nose my spine hurts. After roller skating I joked to Peter “I think I rearranged my innards when I fell!”
My mom said ‘What were you thinking!?!?’
That’s just it. I wasn’t thinking. I was “doing.” Something I hadn’t been able to do in a month. I’ll be fine. And I didn’t pop anything. I fell on my ass, not my boobs. (who does that? besides that girl Shavon with the horrible extensions on the mtv challenge show that I am too old to be watching.)
To add insult to injury I am due to start my period any day now. (look away gentleman readers…it gets very Judy Blume, very quickly)
Last month, it started --- I kid you not---3 minutes before I went into surgery. I was mortified and irritated. They gave me HUGE mesh boy shorts with a pad the size of a limo. Horrifying.
With lupus, for some reason days, sometimes even a week before my period begins, I flare. Horribly. Exhausted, achy skin, fluish. All of it. In addition to the normal things women experience like bitchiness, bitchiness and oh yeah, bitchiness.
SO…here I am today with my roller skating injury, wanting to rip my uterus out and weird rock like mounds on my chest.
Awesome.
I’m pissy.
I just wanted to say that. I don’t want to present a false image of myself as this girl who can handle it all. I can’t. Especially today. And so, I will be good to myself and treat myself tenderly and with care.
That is all.
First of all, no saline fill today which is FANTASTIC. HOLLA! My rack is ready to go. My skin just has to stretch for 3 more months and then on January 6th, they’ll take out these horrific expanders and replace them with saline implants. This episode in my life is almost over! I high fived my doctor. We’re cool like that.
After my appointment ended so early, I had some time to kill before picking up Finn at 12:45. I called ELK and she happened to be home playing hooky today! I decided to stop at Duffey’s and get some warm pastry goodies on this chilly and snowy/rainy day. Delish. I got out of the car and proceeded to fall ass over teakettle on the sidewalk in front of Duffey’s.
Nice.
A darling man, who worked there and I find out is named David, came out to help me up and dust the leaves off me. (OH! You poor thing! Is that cashmere??! He said worriedly about my sweater. I heart the gays.) A woman inside said ‘We saw your legs go up in the air! Are you ok?!?!?” (I wish I had a picture.)
Instead of being horrified and embarrassed, I was delighted by his act of gallantry. He also gave me a free coffee. Sweet. Apparently, today was a day meant for pain because I skinned my hands and knees falling. A fact I found funny. I was actually sort of excited to have skinned knees. When is the last time you had skinned knees?
It made me nostalgic. We used to get really excited in high school during lacrosse season if we had “war wounds”. A skinned knee in your lacrosse uniform was good for street cred.
Relaxing and catching up (after the required flashing) with ELK was so nice. I love to hog her to myself and it was a necessary download. Just being around her is energizing and her darling house full of warmth, creativity and style was the perfect pit stop. She is one of the much beloved “Old Sames” whom I have known for 21 years now. I love you girls so much.
Other fantastic-ness from the week in no particular order:
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