katie's little c

Sinus AHHHHH!

2009-09-29T19:20:00.000-04:00

I don't know if it's all the rain, the change in temperature, a pressure drop, or if all the wind stirred up the dregs of hell, but yesterday I was eating lunch with my hunny and I sneezed. It was all over. I haven't had a proper breath since then.

I am NOT going to the doctor. I was just there last Wednesday.

Na ga da (Dana Carvey)

In other news... Grace is about to drive me over the edge. She is having SERIOUS organizational problems this school year. I had to lay down the law the other week when she got three signatures (warnings) for forgetting things. I've even bailed her out by taking her into school to pick up books she's forgotten. Twice.

One of those two times she forgot her reading log which has to be signed every night. So we went to pick it up and she STILL forgot to have one of us sign it.

Then yesterday... and this might be the best... the teacher told the class to copy down the assignments from the board into their notebooks and then she would check to make sure they all did it. You guessed it. Grace got a signature. The story(ies) was (were)

1. She forgot
2. She didn't know she had to write it down
3. She didn't notice it on the board.

It took awhile for me to get through to her that they couldn't all be the truth.

So I am going to have a summit with her teacher. Grace is VERY CLOSE to detention and it's not even October yet.

I think what bugs me the most... well, the two things... she is an excellent student. She has A+ in all her classes so far. And secondly, she is starting to see herself as "that kid." You know, the one who always forgets something. The self-limiting nature of labeling makes me crazy. I keep telling her that she's not that kid, she's just having a rough time right now.

She is involved in a lot of things right now, but she likes them all and to take something away seems like punishment. I really think it's possible to keep the activities and get her act together -- after all she's still getting to bed at 8:00.

Every year she seems to go through this dingbat phase. I just don't know...

Catching up on some pictures

2009-09-27T19:33:00.000-04:00

No, not the funny quadruplets. Thanks for the props Marc.
Here's a brief history of the last week in pictures.

Hey look I got my new writing space all set up. Guess I'm going to have to start wearing Depends, because when I get up to whizz, look what happens:

Uncle Matt's Groovy Birthday Party. I'm thinking your students don't often see this side of you.

Uncle Pat celebrating Uncle Matt's groovy birthday. Something tells me that the people at IBM often see this side of you.

Today is Binx' 7th birthday. I got him one of those fancy cat appetizers and he was so excited that he couldn't even muster the strength to stand while he was eating it.

Meanwhile, out on the porch... Marc is putting little screens in little holes all across those fancy wood things in that roof thing. I try to steer clear of the details.

See? Happy.

Grace got her new running shoes today. Cool, huh?

Separated at birth?

2009-09-26T09:46:00.005-04:00

Guitar legend Carlos Santana

Lybia's Colonel Gaddafi

The Confusing Tom Jones

Genius Bob Dylan

Remember folks, you heard it here first.

Week 3

2009-09-23T15:03:00.001-04:00

So today would be the day for my treatment, if I were still in treatment. I don't know if it's that I finally feel some freedom from that, or if it's because my writing class is going swimmingly well, or just good luck, but I feel GOOD.

A couple of weeks ago, not so much. In fact, I realized then that the only way I could ever be happy again was to move all of the furniture around in the family room. I don't know if it's when I was trying to squeeze the coffee table into a tight corner or if it was when I tried to move the sectional sofa, but I distinctly remember hearing a pop in my left wrist. It wasn't until later that night that it started hurting.

Once it got to the two week mark, I thought maybe I should call the doctor, so despite the fact that I didn't have a treatment to go to today, I still went to a doctor to make sure nothing was terribly broken or anything. She thinks it's a sprain and gave me a prescription for Ibuprofen to take for two more weeks. I also have to wear a splint/brace kind of thing. If it's not totally better in two weeks, she's going to refer me to an orthopedic person.

Great.

My favorite part of the appointment was when I asked her if I can still do weights if it doesn't hurt. She squinted her eyes and looked at me like Marc often looks at me and said... of course not.

Now we know where the kids get their occasional lack of common sense.

Quotes

2009-09-18T18:48:00.000-04:00

I'm trying to write the FLA paper and am having a hard time getting it off the ground.

First, a message from Jack. "Mommy, my tummy always hurts on the bus because they only play country music."

Second, a lovely from Barbara Kingsolver:

"Every one of us is called upon, perhaps many times, to start a new life. A frightening diagnosis, a marriage, a move, loss of a job...And onward full-tilt we go, pitched and wrecked and absurdly resolute, driven in spite of everything to make good on a new shore. To be hopeful, to embrace one possibility after another--that is surely the basic instinct...Crying out: High tide! Time to move out into the glorious debris. Time to take this life for what it is."
— Barbara Kingsolver (High Tide in Tucson: Essays from Now or Never)

Back to staring at a blank screen.

Pink and green cheese + Keith Moon

2009-09-16T17:19:00.000-04:00

Quickey quick

2009-09-16T08:10:00.001-04:00

Getting ready to head out for Grace's BRACES ON DAY, as they say. She also has an appointment with the oral surgeon this afternoon.

Also wanted to throw in a little tidbit. Yesterday morning, at the school bus stop, I looked at Jack and asked him the all important question... Jack to you have a shirt on under your coat?

Guess what the answer was?

Can you imagine the call I would have gotten from school if I hadn't caught that???

For the record, I checked with several teachers yesterday. None of them can remember a kid coming to school without his shirt on.

Thank you everyone!

2009-09-12T14:46:00.000-04:00

Last Call

2009-09-11T21:03:00.000-04:00

Race for the cure tomorrow:

My team

Join us if you are so inclined!

My letter to the politicans

2009-09-09T22:16:00.001-04:00

I am at the end of a year of breast cancer treatment.

I am lucky enough to have insurance, as the cost of my treatment has been about $350,000. Out of pocket I have spent about $4,000. While I understand that this is a small percentage, it is still a significant amount of money to me.

I worry about my future -- whether I will be able to continue to have health insurance or whether I will be dropped.

I worry about my daughter -- will she be discriminated against when she grows up?

I worry about the uninsured. Are the getting the excellent treatment that I received? How do they deal with the stress a cancer diagnosis brings, the physical depletion of cancer treatments and worry about paying over a quarter of a million dollars worth of bills?

And how many cases could have been caught early enough to avoid drastic treatment if only people had the means to seek screenings and well-visits to their doctors?

Please do not use this dire situation like a football; creating a way to win the next election. This is very real and lives are most certainly at stake. Do not play games with our lives and make no mistake about it: the stakes are no less than that. This is not the time to obfuscate or try to distract the public with outlandish claims.

This is America.

We have the means and we should not allow a single citizen to die because of lack of health care.

Gross Negligence

2009-09-05T19:28:00.007-04:00

I am terribly behind.

I have no idea where you got the idea that I've been filling up my time with Law & Order reruns. I mean, geez, I'm so far behind that I don't even know who was eliminated last week on Design Star. Although now that I see Kathy Griffin is involved, my brief affair with reality television just might be over.

I started a semester writing class at Women Writing for (a) Change on Tuesday. It feels like home. I haven't taken a writing class in a few years and it's very nice to be in community with people and not have to be in charge. It's like a double benefit -- gets me out of the house and puts me in contact with actual real-live humans. I am working on collecting some of the best blog posts into some form or another. I also have to do my writing project to complete the FLA. I have been changing my mind repeatedly about the topic, but the current working title is "Myth, Metaphor and the creation of Meaning." I truly believe that it's a topic only I am interested in. Maybe Kim. Maybe.

Oh yeah, Wednesday, you ask?

IT WAS MY LAST TREATMENT!!!

I made my six week port flush appointment and my three month oncologist visit. Geez. I only go there two more times THIS YEAR?? Whatever will I do with my time. I said to one of the nurses that I've been asking myself, "Where was I?" and "Now, if only I could remember what I was doing a year ago." She said that would be an excellent book title.

I took some treats in with me, including those little smiley Busken Cookies, so I was wildly popular.

I'm getting ahead of myself. First, I had an appointment with the oncologist. I had a list of things to discuss with her, including the fact that I walk like an 85 year old when I get up after sitting for awhile. Does it get better with movement? Yep. Is it arthritis? Yep. Is it permanent? Yep.

WHAT????????

Apparently chemo can speed up these aging processes in the body.

Awesome. Thanks.

Same goes for my ovaries, in case you were wondering. Apparently the older you get, the more your eggs degrade in quality. That's what leads to menopause. Chemo tends to kill off the good eggs and the body is reluctant to release the bad eggs, making for one very confused girly system.

Finally, I told her that my surgeon wants me to keep my port. She said, "Oh, I think Dr Surgeon is worried about you." To which I quickly replied, "Well she's wrong." Then I ran all kinds of diagnoses scenarios past her, since she told me it was fine to get the port out. What about a patient who has XXX and YYY? I came to the determination that Dr OncoDoc really doesn't think the port is necessary, but she did say that 1 year was a good compromise. I was a little disturbed when she laughed and loudly said, "Dr Surgeon just doesn't want to put it back in!"

Not funny.

Not what I wanted to hear either.

But all of the nurses and other patients made such a big deal about it being my last treatment that I actually was almost a little choked up about it when I left.

I came across this the other day and it reminded me of, well, me.

I've been thinking long and hard about the lesson here and decided that I wanted the port out to put it all behind me. Having it in is a good reminder that there is no going back to way it used to be or living as if this never happened. It did and it requires/necessitates/causes a huge shift in the way I live my life. When I forget that, all I need is a kid to put his or hear head on my shoulder and OUCH. Yep, that's a lesson.

One nurse said that I needed the port so I can come in every six weeks and we can wean off each other instead of going cold turkey.

You know, I keep bonking my big thick head up against this wall of wanting an elusive final answer. I've said before and affirm here, there is no such thing as closure. There's just today and the passage of time.

In other news... Grace is actually kind of excited to get the colored bands on her braces, so she's fine with it. She's more comfortable, as am I.

Also on the Grace front, she has decided to join band. At first she wanted to play the trumpet, but we decided that with the impending oral surgery, that might not be the best move. So guess what her second choice was? Yep, snare drum.

Someone, somewhere is laughing.

I worked at the St C library on Thursday for the first time. I was the helper for Jack's class and I can unequivocally say that I could never, ever, ever be a second grade teacher. I got to be the checkout lady though and that was kind of fun. I've always kind of harbored a secret librarian fantasy. It seems so well-defined and finite, you know? Checking out was fun though, I got to talk to Jack's classmates about Diary of a Whimpy Kid, lightning, Captain Underpants and the ever popular knock-knock jokes.

I was in domestic mode -- cleaning the house (gawd I miss the cleaning people) and yesterday I cooked 12 meals, baked 3 loaves of bread and made laundry detergent. I worry about myself sometimes, that when I don't have anything to prove to anyone I won't do anything at all. I am listening to Malcom Gladwell's Outliers right now and am really intrigued by the section on cultural legacy. I have a nebulous idea rolling around upstairs that this is mine -- overcoming great odds as a primary motivator. That might work its way into my paper.

Now for the crazy stuff.

I cannot believe that people are whipped into a hysterical frenzy about President Obama's speech. It hit my radar screen when I found out a civics teacher I know is NOT ALLOWED to show it to her high school government class. I could go on and on here, but I am frankly exhausted by it.

Have we all lost our minds?

So, I contacted the kids' school and much to my dismay, found out that I am the only person who spoke out in favor of wanting the kids to watch THE PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA SPEAK TO CHILDREN ABOUT THE IMPORTANCE OF EDUCATION.

Again, have we completely, totally and utterly lost our minds?

They're not watching it. The teachers actually had the choice but would be required to get permission slips to watch THE PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA SPEAK TO CHILDREN ABOUT THE IMPORTANCE OF EDUCATION.

HAVE WE LOST EVERY LITTLE TEENCY WEENCY BIT OF OUR MINDS?

I've let my feelings be known up the food chain, although I have yet to contact the Pope.

Here's a little perspective:

Our President was born into disadvantaged circumstances -- mixed race, absent father, funny name. He went on to become the first person of color to be President of the Harvard Law Review. He is a scholar of Constitutional Law. He became widely known in 2004 for an exceptional speech at the convention and many have dubbed him the Greatest Orator of our Generation. Despite the barriers HE BECAME PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. Duly elected, popular vote and all. HE'S THE RIGHT PERSON TO TALK TO OUR NATION'S CHILDREN ABOUT THE IMPORTANCE OF EDUCATION.

Pfew. I'm over it.

Anyway, I am proud to say that the Goshen Local School District IS showing it. I also think it's a little scary that it might be the most progressive district in Clermont County. There really is a voice in the back of my head that is suggesting that we move the kids there.

Ok, is that enough for now to keep me out of jail?

Wait, you need to see my bananas. Apparently you need to click the picture to see the bananas.

Tuesday

2009-09-01T18:38:00.002-04:00

I took Grace to an orthodontist today and we're moving forward. She's going to get 6 - 8 braces on 9/16, then surgery to attach brackets to the front teeth. Then they'll connect those together and slowly pull the teeth in. Yee haa.

Anyone know what tomorrow is?

The Emporer DOES throw a good party

2009-08-30T20:42:00.003-04:00

I took the kids to the 150th anniversary of our parish last night. It was a much bigger brouhaha than I anticipated -- the archbishop was there along with 8 priests, everyone decked out in their fancy outfits.

I admit that I am a sucker for a grand ceremony and no one does it better than the Catholic Church.

I hopped over to the shortest line for communion and looked to my left to observe the rows of nuns. Who was sitting in front of them? That's right, Jean Schmidt.

Sure enough, after communion, she went up to the altar to make a little speech, present our pastor with a flag and tell inappropriate stories of the nuns' drinking habits.

I thought about standing up and yelling... "HEY WHAT ABOUT THE DEATH PANELS!!! Sarah Palin said so!!!"

But I guess I'm just too civil, or maybe I'm just getting old. Grace was staring at me the whole time, waiting for me to blow a gasket.

Afterward, there was a dinner. I was hoping to get my picture taken with her so I could have something to show off here. But she didn't stick around as far as I could tell. I'm sure she had to hop on her... ummmm.... jet and go pay her respects to Ted Kennedy. Riiiight.

Anyway, after the fanciness, there was a good big band playing, then some of the Irish Dancers, including Grace, performed on the stage -- a little nod to the 9 Irish families who were railroad workers and started the parish in 1859.

V. Cool.

And then...

2009-08-28T08:32:00.003-04:00

to make it all the worse, I watched Doubt on Sunday night. Good movie about a parish in the early 1960's. The Church and society are on the verge of change and the school principal doesn't like it. A young pastor comes in and she doesn't like his style. She comes to suspect that he is abusing some of the altar boys. It's a good movie about faith and powerlessness, about hierarchy and gut feelings.

But it didn't help my Sunday become any less ambiguous.

I did have another Mother of the Year moments this week. When Jack and I went in for his open house, we set his desk up, but when he came home the first day he said she moved his desk. Just his desk and the desk of the person he displaced. I must have asked Jack 20 times in 20 different ways, why? He didn't know. His teacher sent home a beginning of the year packet and mentioned in there that if you child has a problem with a seating arrangement to let her know asap.

Yep, eventually the curiosity got to this kitty. Here is why:

1. The ostensible reason -- I was out of commission last year and may have missed out on some class dynamic.

2. The voice in my head -- Who the F&^* has a problem with my boy?

So I asked his teacher.

I need that heel graphic here.

She moved him next to a boy who has health issues. He has to go to the office a lot and the first grade teachers said Jack would be the right boy to help him keep up with anything he missed in class.

Mama Bear means well, but sometimes she's a little misguided.

Here they are on the first day, by the way.

Sunday

2009-08-23T11:46:00.004-04:00

It's not even noon yet and I have myself whipped into a bit of a frenzy.

First, some background. Over the past year, I have developed a practice with tarot, specifically the Motherpeace tarot. The tarot has been demonized and criminalized and marginalized by people who don't have a clue what these cards are.

The deck I have and the accompanying book offer images and history of the feminine that has been "lost" over the centuries. The deck is circular any sort of scary, occult-ish overtone has been removed. I think it taps into an unnamed problem in our world -- we have no actual images of feminine divinity. I believe that in turn affects the way women view themselves, as less than their male counterparts who can count on their team God The Father and The Son Made in His Image.

It wasn't always this way and it isn't this way in every culture.

So on Sundays, before I go to Mass (YES I can see the irony, thank you very much) I take a few minutes to think about something important and unsettled in my life, then draw a card and read the description from the Motherpeace Tarot book.

Today I was thinking about how I am kind of wandering out of one wilderness into another. The last wilderness was dark and scary, but the path was clearly marked and laid out for me by the medical world. Now they are about to turn me loose to get back to making my own way. It's a bit like rebirth and a second chance: exciting and intimidating.

So I was thinking about how I need a path and I drew The Emperor. "S&*t" I uttered. Maybe a few others too. Don't worry, the kids were downstairs eating breakfast.

Here was a line from this chapter I highlighted long ago.

The separation of the human mind from the rest of Nature is the major cause of the alienation found in the world today.

I've read similar passages elsewhere and they stick in my head.

Apart from some really interesting information about Alexander the Great, the book explains the card as a card of separation. That's the key to me behind the loaded term patriarchy: it is based in the idea of us and them. When there's an us and a them, there is always competition to be better, to get their stuff so we're better than them. Possession and accumulation are symptoms of a greater disease.

So... the book goes on to say that I may be up against a brick wall of patriarchy right now which, interestingly, I don't think I am; or I am the brick wall. That seemed more possible to me, plus gave me the beloved chance to beat myself up a bit (a favorite pastime of mine).

Then I went to Mass and I remembered that I tend to miss the brick walls that are right in front of me -- some sort of perceptual version of far-sightedness. Yes, the second reading was the one that makes me squirm; the one that would make me walk out if it weren't for having to explain it to the kids. Plus, I really hope someone's going to help me make sense of it.

Yes, wives, submit to your husbands. (Paul to the Ephesians)

Now, I am willing to admit that if you read the whole passage, he is really talking about the Church and the Christ, not a marriage.

I am also willing to give St. Paul a break because of context; the time in which he lived.

BUT, and a very big BUT, I can not overlook the fact that these words have been used to enforce the idea that women are inferior to men; used to control women. All of the context in the world doesn't fix that.

The priest even admitted that, yes, there is a sexism in the church still.

This reminded me of a story I heard this week, about the Vatican investigating American nuns who have taken to wearing open-toed shoes and living in apartments.

It all makes me very edgy and sometimes question my choice to raise my kids Catholic, especially in a Catholic school. But here is something I find unique about Catholicism -- what happens at the Vatican level doesn't always trickle down to the parish level. In fact, it rarely does, or maybe it happens so subtly that I don't notice it. In any case, I only run across fellow parishioners who want a community that takes care of each other, not trying to make women subordinate to men. I don't even see a subtext of that, except maybe in the CHIRP programs.

Still, I am supporting the biggest brick wall there is.

Were you hoping for a nice neat conclusion to this? Sorry, wrong blog.

Totally forgot this part

2009-08-22T21:42:00.002-04:00

The other day, Grace moved as many mini-sized belongings as she could into her closet. She said she wanted a safe space for some privacy. I was being very inconsiderate and told her she couldn't do that, then took the space apart. You should have seen the system of electrical cords she had to get a lamp in her closet.

It brought to mind a woman I knew in college. She was studying for an exam on the floor, with her lamp down there with her. She left for the exam and neglected to turn the light off. Yes, it caught her rug on fire.

Believe it or not, that was the second accidental fire she had caused in the dorms, so she and the administration decided that either she should move out, or she should live in total darkness.

Anyway, those who have known me for a long time certainly must remember my fire phobia. Mostly gone, but not totally.

But Grace's feelings were more hurt that I imagined, so I obsessed about that for a few hours, then I had one of those obvious as the nose on my face moments. She wants to take a little control of her life.

Alleluia.

I seriously never thought it would happen. I know it's because we're so, ummm, PRESENT in her life that she lets us make the decisions for her. But now she wants to create her own space.

So when she got home from school, I apologized. Really, I did. And I talked about how maybe she can redecorate her room to get what she wants.

I looked at her room and had to laugh. It is decorated with Madeline prints that I framed when she was like 2. It is painted the pink that she asked for when she was 3. She's not a pink girl anymore.

Today we went to home depot and lowes for paint samples. She brought home about 300, so I don't see this happening by the end of the week. She is definitely ready for something a little more grown-up now, which is both sad and comforting at the same time.

I am keeping an eye on her because she has hit that age that many psychologists refer to as a critical time. This is the age when girls begin to lose their voices. If you don't believe me, read Reviving Ophelia by Mary Pipher and you too will be scared.

I am encouraging this chance for Grace to create the room she wants.

Not quite sure about the color choices, but we'll see...

(bright purple and lime green)

Saturday night...

2009-08-22T21:20:00.003-04:00

ain't what it used to be, you know?

Ain't ain't a word because ain't ain't in the dictionary.

Classic Bill Ford-ism.

Anyway, the kids went back to school on Wednesday. We all keep saying that it seems too early this year. It is, but I am really getting tired of that.

I have definitely noticed a decrease in enthusiasm this year, maybe due in part to my total lack of preparation this year. Usually I start about a week before tweaking the kids' circadian rhythms, but this year they went cold turkey. Grace told me on Thursday morning that she'd rather sleep than go to school.

But they both perked up by the end of the week.

So here is the complicated tale of Grace's teeth. The front teeth have not come in on their own yet. One has come down, the other is sideways. The orthodontist wants her to have a surgery where they create a channel for the teeth to come down, affix a band and then a chain to the band so they can pull the teeth in. Before that happens, they need to make an "appliance" to keep her other teeth in place.

Ok, so this ortho spent most of the time telling me how much pain Grace will be in and how terrible it will be if by chance those teeth are fused to a bone. He mentioned adhesions and repeating the chain surgery 3 or 4 times.

I think I was so overwhelmed and shocked by everything he said that I couldn't do anything but stand their with my own jaw hanging open. Fortunately, I had an appointment with the dentist right after. We were able to get the xray they'd just taken of Grace and I showed it to him. He said that the procedure is probably the right thing to do, but that the doc shouldn't have freaked me out like that.

This is really irritating. The ortho sort of whispered to me, but Grace could hear bits and pieces. She was definitely teary eyed on the way home. I think she has a right to know what the doctor said, plus I know if I don't tell her everything, her imagination will be a gazillion times worse. So then I made her cry, in large part because I couldn't answer her questions. I was so, well, scared by what the orthodontist said that I wasn't thinking straightly enough to ask the right questions. I am sure that my own ptsd kicked in a bit, but this doc did not have a good bedside manner.

To me, that's important.

So, I'm getting a second opinion. As it turns out, my dentist just got braces. Funny, huh? Anyway, I am taking Grace to see HIS orthodontist on 9/1. He will probably recommend the same thing, but I truly believe that having a good rapport with a doctor is essential.

So Grace is pretty psyched about that.

Jack started football this week -- flag football. He's on a team with his friends from school. I am starting to wonder about something with him... is he too young/maybe not emotionally mature enough for team sports? Or are the ups and downs of team sports exactly what he needs? I ask this because both times I've picked him up after practice, he's been in tears by the time he gets in the car. The first time he was upset because I told him Grace was playing with the girl down the street. He wanted to go over to her house and I said no, it was time for both of them to come home to shower. Today when I picked him up he cried because no one passed him the ball.

Now, part of this could be adjusting to being back in school. Part could be fatigue. Part could be because Marc went to Cleveland this weekend for his brother's 40th birthday. But by the end of last baseball season, he was crying at every game.

I'm just not sure what the answer is. Marc and I are absolutely not pushing him into these sports -- he is begging us. I get so angry with him when he cries about this stuff though. I guess maybe we should talk about it when it's not so heat of the moment.

Maybe I just need to accept that this is his temperament. I need to get all zen with this too -- it is what it is until it isn't.

Nothing much new on the treatment front. I am looking forward to post-Herceptin treatments so I can get my nails back. Yuck. At the last support group meeting I went to, a person who is a year ahead of me said she didn't realize how crappy she felt at the end of her treatment until a year went by and she felt much better. I feel pretty good now, but I do still tire more easily than I used to. Hanging out with the kids all day, taking them shopping, etc, wore me out, probably in part because I don't have the other (mostly) grown-up around.

But geez, the weather is awesome and I am so grateful that it's 2009.

Where was I?

2009-08-18T08:35:00.002-04:00

Oh yeah, still languishing in the vacation glow. Hmm. That went away pretty fast.

The kids start school Wednesday so we've been trying to cram in all kinds of stuff. I meant to take them to Kings Island but strangely enough, they really weren't too jazzed about it. So I decided to hang on to the 4 bazillion dollars I would have spent there. Shifting from vacation to school mode left them a little confused, but after their open house on Sunday, they are excited.

Grace has decided to join a running group this year, which is exciting to me. I think it's awesome that she wants to try something new.

Jack is playing flag football.

I'm shifting too -- trying to figure out the basic structure of my life for the fall. Does balance actually come easy to anyone? I'm struggling again... wanting to do everything, wanting to do nothing; wanting to fill up all my time, wanting to leave lots of time to smell the proverbial roses.

Does this get any easier?

And yes, I realize how lucky I am to even have options. I've got plenty of guilt about that, thank you very much.

Updates

2009-08-12T12:20:00.001-04:00

The Vacation Stories:

I left you hanging on the rental car.

When we were leaving our hotel in VA, our car’s display was pestering us about tire pressure. We’d fill it up and move on. On our second day there, it went from gentle reminders to scary red exclamation points on the dashboard. Our rear tire had a pressure reading of… eight. Of course we had no tire gauge, so Marc would fill it up based on the old eyeball method, so soon our tires had pressure of… 78.

I don’t really know what it was supposed to have been, but 8 and 78 are definitely wrong.

I called Hertz and was extremely impressed by their service. Without having to make a fuss, they actually drive from Norfolk with a new car. This one was a fancy schmancy Ford Expedition or Explorer or Excalibur or something. It was red. There was also a sunroof and Sirius satellite radio.

Here’s something funny. To drive on the beach, we had to lower our tire pressure on that car.

So the rest of the week, we had three solid days of beach therapy. We rented an umbrella and a couple of chairs and it was awesome. One day it was even kind of cold because the wind was blowing out of the north. And one day it was really, really windy and I was feeling very exfoliated by the end of that day.

Maybe it was a Ford Exfoliator?

There is something so therapeutic about just sitting on the beach. I have tried to come up with something profound to say about the power of the waves, the impermanence of the grains of sand or the mystery of the ocean but it’s really all been said before. I can positively say that it was the first time in a year that I could close my eyes and see the ocean rather than a scary recent past or a bleak future. My dreams were really vivid too, and profound.

I will tell you that I was 100% paranoid about that OBX riptide. Fortunately, my anxiety seemed to rub off on the kids so they were fairly cautious.

One day we went to see a movie – G Force. Really, really stupid, but the kids liked it. I love a good kids’ movie, but this one was heavy on one-liners and light on plot. Tracy Morgan always makes me laugh though and reminds me of how much I am looking forward to 30 Rock.

We wanted to miss the traffic getting out of town, so we got up at 4 am to leave. We got going around 5 am and it’s surprising how many people were on the road then. Marc drove straight through though and we were home by around 6 pm. That kind of car trip is exhausting for everyone.

I also learned that satellite radio is not worth it, in my opinion. Just hundreds of channels full of talk and music you don’t really want to hear. I’ll keep my NPR any day.

Marc might/would certainly disagree.

We have a bucket full of sand and a bag full of shells. I need to go through them and make something pretty, but for now they are still in the garage.

And here’s the quote of the vacation. We spent our last full day at the beach and had a hard time getting the kids to leave. As we were walking to the car, I actually said to Jack…

JACK STAND UP AND STOP KISSING THE SAND.

Now we are transitioning back to a non-vacation reality. I think it’s going to take another week to do that. The kids start school next Wednesday. It’s pretty early this year.

Oh, and on that little c thing… I met with my surgeon on Monday… the cancer ninja. As you undoubtedly remember, my oncologist, Dr. OncoDoc, said I could have my port out right away, so I was looking forward to scheduling that. Well, the cancer ninja refuses to take it out because of the size of the original tumor and the lymph node involvement.

I must admit that was upsetting to me. I think I have this crazy idea that she has some sort of prognostication ability, or maybe that she’s cursing me. I had that little voice tell me that I am upset because it’s not the perfection I imagined.

The perfect is the enemy of the good. I should paint that on all walls that surround me all the time.

I keep reminding myself that while my surgeon is the cancer ninja, she is not the cancer psychic. She also said that the cancer is probably not coming back, but to wait a year to have the port out.

So now I’ll have to come in every so often to have my port flushed.

Who’s hungry?

I’m getting a Herceptin treatment today and will have my last one on 9/2. After that, it’s three months until my next appointment. Whatever will I do with myself??

While in the chair today, I heard a young woman talking. She said her name and I realized that she is a woman with whom I have communicated online. She’s closer to the beginning of her journey than the end, but she has an amazing spirit. I can tell from talking to her that she is the kind of person who has dealt with this by reaching out, while I am more the clam up type.

One of my many surprising discoveries – that I am the clam up type. I have also continued to examine my life with a new eye and am finding that I sometimes hang on to things and people more because of fear of letting go than anything else. That’s not to blame anyone or anything, but I am finally starting to understand that you can let go of people and relationships without denigrating the past. Some will grow with you, or at least be present and open minded to your growth and some just can’t. Some things are just too broken to fix. That used to really upset me and I wanted to prove it wrong. Now, for the life of me I can’t remember why. I think maybe I was trying to stick a hierarchy on something that is much more horizontal than vertical.

What’s really funny is that connecting with a person from my past has helped me to see that. As she and I were discussing last night, there’s nothing like that gun to your head to force you to change. I will never, ever, ever say I was lucky to meet the cancer beast, but like everything else, I might as well make the best of it.

Home

2009-08-08T18:56:00.000-04:00

...mixed feelings...

Last day at the beach

2009-08-07T20:56:00.002-04:00

Dawn at the Beach

2009-08-07T07:51:00.001-04:00

Big storm passes quickly

2009-08-06T20:04:00.001-04:00

Big storm

2009-08-06T19:26:00.003-04:00

Obligatory Lighthouse visit

2009-08-06T19:06:00.004-04:00

We took a little break from the sun today and did a little sightseeing. Despite the encouraging marketing literature, we decided not to climb the lighthouse. From the National Parks website:

The climb is strenuous! The 248 iron spiral stairs to the top equal climbing a 12 story building. The stairs have a handrail only on one side and a landing every 31 steps. There is no air conditioning. It may be noisy, humid, hot and dim inside the lighthouse and there is two-way traffic on the narrow stairs.

We are calling it an early night tonight as we are planning to wake up and watch the sunrise tomorrow. It rises and sets a full 1/2 hour earlier here.

Guess whose idea that was? That's right. I'm not so popular with the night owls around here.

Big t-storms rolling through here right now...