What the heck do I say to people who ask me how I am? OK, so far, just fine, I'm OK, No problems, Having a good Day. Well all those things do fit the occasion. But I'm not sure I'm fine anymore. I have a rash on my forehead, which should be the smallest problem I have, but it itches and draws my attention there, whereas nothing else hurts anywhere. So maybe I should say,"I itch."
Talked with the oncologist yesterday. The tumor in the lung is cancer. No benign stuff for me this time. It is in the area where primary cancers develop, so it is not a breast cancer return. It is not in the bronchial tree, so that is good. I will start radiation on that tumor today. It will be similar to the brain radiation in that there is no sensation of receiving anything. Just lay there and the machine passes over me for a couple of minutes and I to into the other room for the head radiation. No side effects from the head yet, maybe a little more tired than usual. Napping some every day now. The chest radiation will effect my throat some, sore throat, maybe mouth sores, etc. We will see. I will be going to radiation for 5 days a week until mid-May. Then hope to recover some energy and do some traveling in our motor home. I want to see the Ocean for sure..
So, spiritually I am looking forward to the services of Holy Week, even though I question almost everything I have believed over the years. Certainly the Last Supper is a directive for us to remember that we are all in this together and we need to serve one another. Good Friday- the death day, the black day, even Jesus is said to have asked for a pass from the assignment he was given, but like the rest of us he had to give his body to find his soul. Now when he was walking around and the women passed by him, they didn't even know it was him. Why did he come back in a different form? Will I? Do we all? Have I traveled with the same group of individuals from the beginning of time? We like to think we have the answers to all this stuff. Complete wipe out existance is not a good thought. I have been trying to be alert for messages, channeling, etc., but haven't we all? What I do think about dying is that it is a lot like anesthetic.....count to three and hope for the best!
On a lighter note - the radiologist said I could paint my bald head with magic markers so when Emily gets here from Libby and we are dying eggs for the back yard hunt I think I will have her draw some flowers and write Happy Easter on my head!
I find myself embracing all things that might be the last....EASTER....and then putting the decorations away for the last time, etc. Yesterday we had a birthday party for my friend who is 77 and I thought, this is the last birthday we will celebrate. Now that is presumptious of all of us. She may be the one who goes first, I may be here next year, and I could be crying because she isn't. So my friends do not assume that you know what tomorrow will bring, but prepare your hearts for the promise of EASTER! Love Carol
ps: There seems to be some problem with this website. If it crashes...I'll deal with it somehow...hope not.
Wednesday, March 31, 2010
Monday, March 29, 2010
stuff dreams are made of?
Hi, last night my dreams were interesting. One was of a long shiney,road of gumbo. It was a hill side and each side was forested. At the bottom of the muddy road the dirt was cut away and dropped directly into the river. My mother always said muddy waters was a sign of a death in the family. Then a shiney black horses body, apocolypse type black horse?, came sliding down the slick hill on its side and dumped right into the river. It was disposal sight for the race track. Anyway, during the dream my thought was, "did they put the horse down first, or was it anethesized and if so, what a shame because the slide down the hill might have been fun.
Second dream: I was assigned to some kind of a contstruction job in outer space. I had coveralls and a guy type cap on my head. I sat down on a tractor like seat and in front of me was a large ball of red curly hair, short, but very tight curls and two felt ear tabs. I was told to hang onto the ears or the hair, and wait for blast off. Apparently, I would just be haning onto the ball as we shot out into the universe. I was a little scared, but ready and I thought, "man not too many people get this opportunity and when I go I want to look back and see the earth and I bet I will feel pretty Godsome.
Have a good day. Carol
Second dream: I was assigned to some kind of a contstruction job in outer space. I had coveralls and a guy type cap on my head. I sat down on a tractor like seat and in front of me was a large ball of red curly hair, short, but very tight curls and two felt ear tabs. I was told to hang onto the ears or the hair, and wait for blast off. Apparently, I would just be haning onto the ball as we shot out into the universe. I was a little scared, but ready and I thought, "man not too many people get this opportunity and when I go I want to look back and see the earth and I bet I will feel pretty Godsome.
Have a good day. Carol
Friday, March 26, 2010
Hair today - gone tomorrow
Gobs of hair is coming out when I comb, so tonight, if I leave the hospital as expected I will go to JC Penny and let me longtime hairdresser shave my head. I even have a five dollar coupon to give her. I don't think I will mind being hairless, I have always had a love hate relationship with hair anyway. I have purchased another hat, maybe my Easter bonnet, unless I find something cuter. Probably will get a collection!
It's funny how everything is relative. When I was 19 years old I had a little baby girl and something went wrong with my hormones and most of my hair came out. Now that was something to cry about. But so was the baby, she died just short of her 6th month birthday. When I think about crossing to the "other side" I think of the people who COULD meet me. I'm not saying I think they will, but I'm saying who the hell knows. Anyway I think she will still be pink and soft and baby and smell good and nuzzles in my arms. Francis, who died 21 years ago this week will be hale and hearty and strong and handsome and run to greet me with a hug. He'll have some kind of security position over there and he will still be a know-it-all, because that is the way I loved him. Daniel, will have forgiven me all the wicked stepmother sins and he will hug me. My mom? I would like to know my mom on a women to women level. I think she must have been as strong as I am. She was a survivor of poor marriages and poor parenting, but continued on. She died of cancer at the age of 48. I thought she was old enough to die, then. Daddy? He'll be there with a fishing creel on his hip and a cigarette hanging out of his lips and grinning like the jackass he was. I used to steal his Lucky Strikes....we both got the lung cancer, but I've lived 10 years longer then him...Lots of men,loved then,remembered now. What I find a blessing is that I cannot think of one person who has gone on before me that I have not forgiven. God knows none of us want to be less than we can be, but we are all less than we could have been. I like the saying, "be kind to everyone you meet today, they are struggling"
So be real, be kind, be nice, Angels may be among us. Love Carol
It's funny how everything is relative. When I was 19 years old I had a little baby girl and something went wrong with my hormones and most of my hair came out. Now that was something to cry about. But so was the baby, she died just short of her 6th month birthday. When I think about crossing to the "other side" I think of the people who COULD meet me. I'm not saying I think they will, but I'm saying who the hell knows. Anyway I think she will still be pink and soft and baby and smell good and nuzzles in my arms. Francis, who died 21 years ago this week will be hale and hearty and strong and handsome and run to greet me with a hug. He'll have some kind of security position over there and he will still be a know-it-all, because that is the way I loved him. Daniel, will have forgiven me all the wicked stepmother sins and he will hug me. My mom? I would like to know my mom on a women to women level. I think she must have been as strong as I am. She was a survivor of poor marriages and poor parenting, but continued on. She died of cancer at the age of 48. I thought she was old enough to die, then. Daddy? He'll be there with a fishing creel on his hip and a cigarette hanging out of his lips and grinning like the jackass he was. I used to steal his Lucky Strikes....we both got the lung cancer, but I've lived 10 years longer then him...Lots of men,loved then,remembered now. What I find a blessing is that I cannot think of one person who has gone on before me that I have not forgiven. God knows none of us want to be less than we can be, but we are all less than we could have been. I like the saying, "be kind to everyone you meet today, they are struggling"
So be real, be kind, be nice, Angels may be among us. Love Carol
Thursday, March 25, 2010
hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii, i'M BACK
I am so glad to be back on line! As some of you know I have been in the hospital for a week now and today Sydney bought me a new lap top and the hospital has wi-fi! Yeah!
So, first for the dirty story. Most of my "old" friends, with loose bowels, or with constipation have experienced the evacuation explosion! So, now I have two chest tubes, because when they did the biopsy they made a hole in the balloon that we call a lung. At first it looked like a blood clot would close the leak, but as the day went on, and that was last Friday, the leak got bigger so the pulmonogist said we need to put a tube into your chest cavity to extract the air in there that is stopping the lung from inflating.
So, down to the CT room so they could insert a tube through my skin, chest, etc. A little versed and phentynal to make me cooperative and a few take a deep breaths and hold it and we were back in the hall heading up stairs. At the other end of the tube is box that is hooked to suction on the wall and it is supposed to pull the air and any blood type stuff out of the chest wall. Usually takes a day or two. Doesn't really hurt. Just a bother moving around, like to the toilet on time. LATER.
On Sunday, Doc says we want to put another tube into the chest. OK more drugs and more boxes and tubing to move around. Today is day seven, a little improvement on the daily xray. MAYBE tommorrow will be the day they clamp the tubes and do a trial run and if all goes good. I go home. OR, if no improvement, they have a much BIGGER chest tube that might work faster.
When one is in the hospital, they measure everything that goes in or comes out.And just in case one is slacking on the out-go they give you stool softeners.
When I need to go to the bathroom, across the room, I have to gather up the drain tubes attached to the two suction boxes and carry the boxes across my bed and set them strategically in front of the bathroom door and I have just enough tether to back up over the measuring pot and squat without dumping over the suction boxes. The softened stool was impatient with my progress and so the lovely pink sweats are in a sack with a knot tied to keep the odor at bay and I had to do laundry in the toilet.
I am telling you all this more than you need to know information because in the big picture of the week, that really is they only thing that made me cuss!
The biospy is still no definte, but the oncologist is sure it is a primary lung cancer and not the old breast cancer. I have had no radiation for a week but I am told they will just tack on the corrected number at the end. I hope to resume that next week and I think probably the chemo might start on a once a week basis. My hair is coming out. Friend Kathy brought me earrings from Walmart and I found a cute white hat for Easter at Herbergers. She's going to get it for me. We are planning an Easter egg hunt and dinner as some of our kids will be here. Molly, Sydney's sister is on the train as I type this and she will arrrive with utter chaos around noon tomorrow which will keep Sydney occupied. PS I have daffodils and carnations in my room and I have love all around me. Thanks guys.
So, first for the dirty story. Most of my "old" friends, with loose bowels, or with constipation have experienced the evacuation explosion! So, now I have two chest tubes, because when they did the biopsy they made a hole in the balloon that we call a lung. At first it looked like a blood clot would close the leak, but as the day went on, and that was last Friday, the leak got bigger so the pulmonogist said we need to put a tube into your chest cavity to extract the air in there that is stopping the lung from inflating.
So, down to the CT room so they could insert a tube through my skin, chest, etc. A little versed and phentynal to make me cooperative and a few take a deep breaths and hold it and we were back in the hall heading up stairs. At the other end of the tube is box that is hooked to suction on the wall and it is supposed to pull the air and any blood type stuff out of the chest wall. Usually takes a day or two. Doesn't really hurt. Just a bother moving around, like to the toilet on time. LATER.
On Sunday, Doc says we want to put another tube into the chest. OK more drugs and more boxes and tubing to move around. Today is day seven, a little improvement on the daily xray. MAYBE tommorrow will be the day they clamp the tubes and do a trial run and if all goes good. I go home. OR, if no improvement, they have a much BIGGER chest tube that might work faster.
When one is in the hospital, they measure everything that goes in or comes out.And just in case one is slacking on the out-go they give you stool softeners.
When I need to go to the bathroom, across the room, I have to gather up the drain tubes attached to the two suction boxes and carry the boxes across my bed and set them strategically in front of the bathroom door and I have just enough tether to back up over the measuring pot and squat without dumping over the suction boxes. The softened stool was impatient with my progress and so the lovely pink sweats are in a sack with a knot tied to keep the odor at bay and I had to do laundry in the toilet.
I am telling you all this more than you need to know information because in the big picture of the week, that really is they only thing that made me cuss!
The biospy is still no definte, but the oncologist is sure it is a primary lung cancer and not the old breast cancer. I have had no radiation for a week but I am told they will just tack on the corrected number at the end. I hope to resume that next week and I think probably the chemo might start on a once a week basis. My hair is coming out. Friend Kathy brought me earrings from Walmart and I found a cute white hat for Easter at Herbergers. She's going to get it for me. We are planning an Easter egg hunt and dinner as some of our kids will be here. Molly, Sydney's sister is on the train as I type this and she will arrrive with utter chaos around noon tomorrow which will keep Sydney occupied. PS I have daffodils and carnations in my room and I have love all around me. Thanks guys.
Thursday, March 18, 2010
On the Road
Traveled to Bozeman Montana yesterday where my wild granddaughter received an award for the volunteer work that she does in a nursing home in Libby, Montana. This is a child who has worn down her family, friends, and the school system with inappropriate behaviors. She has reached out to the folks in a nursing home with the true spirit of someone who cares. No phoniness about this kid. I love her. She is my decendent.
I noticed the pine needles on the hills in my beloved Montana are going to rape the trees. Soon the hills will be bald, and apparently I will too. Those pine needles are not unlike a cancer that cannot be killed. They will kill their host and then die.
I'm good, at work today even, but I sure am getting round faced from the steroids. I think I look like an little old appalachian grandma, but my boss says I look like a sturdy Russian.
I appreciate the words of encouragement and affirmative cards and positive thinking I get from folks, but my philosophy is more like I am the rider in the vehicle and God is driving. He knows the route and I trust that he will take me where I am supposed to go. I don't want to be responsible for the success or failure of this trip. Now, thats not to say I will not go through the treatments and fight to stay well and take care of myself etc., etc. But I am not going to try to outwit God with my own agenda.
You know where I lay under that radiation machine I have a notion to wave my arms and bring in the rays like the Indians do with their Sweet Grass treatments. Just waft that stuff right over here!
I forgot to thank God for the morning yesterday. I think I have lived with the intensity of this situation for about three weeks now and it is fading. At first my mind constantly went to the words, the feelings, the fears etc. Now I forget sometimes that I am ill. So that is probably where I am now. Back to life. Biopsy tomorrow may bring it all back with a bang.
I noticed the pine needles on the hills in my beloved Montana are going to rape the trees. Soon the hills will be bald, and apparently I will too. Those pine needles are not unlike a cancer that cannot be killed. They will kill their host and then die.
I'm good, at work today even, but I sure am getting round faced from the steroids. I think I look like an little old appalachian grandma, but my boss says I look like a sturdy Russian.
I appreciate the words of encouragement and affirmative cards and positive thinking I get from folks, but my philosophy is more like I am the rider in the vehicle and God is driving. He knows the route and I trust that he will take me where I am supposed to go. I don't want to be responsible for the success or failure of this trip. Now, thats not to say I will not go through the treatments and fight to stay well and take care of myself etc., etc. But I am not going to try to outwit God with my own agenda.
You know where I lay under that radiation machine I have a notion to wave my arms and bring in the rays like the Indians do with their Sweet Grass treatments. Just waft that stuff right over here!
I forgot to thank God for the morning yesterday. I think I have lived with the intensity of this situation for about three weeks now and it is fading. At first my mind constantly went to the words, the feelings, the fears etc. Now I forget sometimes that I am ill. So that is probably where I am now. Back to life. Biopsy tomorrow may bring it all back with a bang.
Monday, March 15, 2010
God is a black walnut
First of all, let me clarify something. A friend asked me yesterday if the radiologist put a little metal cap on my head to give me the treatments. Kinda sounded like a Green Mile story! No, I don't sit in a wooden chair, with a metal cap with electrical wires and I don't have a group of individuals staring at me and waiting for me to get what I got coming.
Here is how it works....With my head screwed onto the table so I don't move, and with a huge wedge under my knees so my back doesn't spasm, I lay there for 4 minutes while a big white wand type passes over my head from one side to the other and some green and red pin point lights go off and on. No noise, no sensation, no nothing, except hope....Itsn't weird how much damage radiation did to the Japanese folks? What God has made is in our hands, thats for sure.
I have been experiencing some slight numbness around my mouth and that is a concern that I will bring up with technitions today.
I have been asking God for communication. Something to let me know we know each other. Some proof that he cares. Some proof of a connection.
While I listened in the night for a still small voice, or searched the scriptures for a coded message, I was puzzled.
God came to me this weekend in a big pot of chicken cachitori, bananna bread with black walnuts, chocolate chip cookies, bread and wine at church, emails and photos of sunrises....God's creatures, with physical, touchable, huggable, intelligence and compassion.
God in all of us, connecting us to each other and to him.
So, how did I use the second weekend of the rest of my life?
I made a huge decadent dessert for friends who came to eat dinner Friday night. I won $300 at the corner casino and lost $40 at the other casino where friends and I went out on Sat. night. I had a red beer.. I walked the parimeter of my yard and saw, hollyhocks, bleeding hearts, tulips, daffodils and raspberries peeping through the soft soil, I washed lots of clothes, worked on Sienna's scrap book, sent thank you cards, sorted through photos, shopped for Easter, cleaned the linen closet and the med chest. Pinned a quilt, read three chapters of a dull book, shaved the hair from my lip and bought pink, pink nail polish. Probably some of the same things that all of you did this weekend.
I am leaving town tommorrow on a secret mission....later this week I will tell you about it.. It's a grandma story.
Here is how it works....With my head screwed onto the table so I don't move, and with a huge wedge under my knees so my back doesn't spasm, I lay there for 4 minutes while a big white wand type passes over my head from one side to the other and some green and red pin point lights go off and on. No noise, no sensation, no nothing, except hope....Itsn't weird how much damage radiation did to the Japanese folks? What God has made is in our hands, thats for sure.
I have been experiencing some slight numbness around my mouth and that is a concern that I will bring up with technitions today.
I have been asking God for communication. Something to let me know we know each other. Some proof that he cares. Some proof of a connection.
While I listened in the night for a still small voice, or searched the scriptures for a coded message, I was puzzled.
God came to me this weekend in a big pot of chicken cachitori, bananna bread with black walnuts, chocolate chip cookies, bread and wine at church, emails and photos of sunrises....God's creatures, with physical, touchable, huggable, intelligence and compassion.
God in all of us, connecting us to each other and to him.
So, how did I use the second weekend of the rest of my life?
I made a huge decadent dessert for friends who came to eat dinner Friday night. I won $300 at the corner casino and lost $40 at the other casino where friends and I went out on Sat. night. I had a red beer.. I walked the parimeter of my yard and saw, hollyhocks, bleeding hearts, tulips, daffodils and raspberries peeping through the soft soil, I washed lots of clothes, worked on Sienna's scrap book, sent thank you cards, sorted through photos, shopped for Easter, cleaned the linen closet and the med chest. Pinned a quilt, read three chapters of a dull book, shaved the hair from my lip and bought pink, pink nail polish. Probably some of the same things that all of you did this weekend.
I am leaving town tommorrow on a secret mission....later this week I will tell you about it.. It's a grandma story.
Sunday, March 14, 2010
Am I, are you, Significant?
Well, we like to think we are. We like to think we have a personal God, a personal relationship with God. Mankind has sought that connection since the beginning. There is, as C.S. Lewis said, something in us that is missing, and we know it and we look for it. Sure we give it many forms and names but all mankind is trying to connect. Our connections with each other are driven by that missing link.
BUT...I look at the heaps and piles of brown skinned, ash covered, crumbled bodies in Haiti, bodies that are bulldozed away into mass graves and I wonder about their significance.
I have been given this chance to ponder and to seek out that connection to the unknown, unsure, and because I am significant?, I go to the place were million dollar equipment is waiting to zap me another month or two. Nice food, warm house, loving friends, comfort at church, fun nights out etc. Why am I more significant than the broken brown person? Not I am sure.
This God thing is hard to believe. I mean, if he is all powerful, etc., what does he need with our worship. Of course, that is church stuff, stuff that keeps us in societal roles and pays the bills for the cathedrals etc., but really what does God care about my worshiping him. That's a lot like having Bill Clinton give a damn if I like him or not.
Now, don't get me wrong, there is no doubt in my educated mind that there is a creator. One cannot look under a microscope, or into a telescope, or anywhere in this world and find chaos. It is planned. But what the hell for? Do you suppose we are just a group of a few million that were dropped down here in the beginning and provide entertainment for the maker. Kinda like a video game? I don't like that I idea. God loves us, so they say. I have felt that love during my time here and I have known others who have absolutely no doubt about God's plan. I have doubts, but I also have hope and trust. And what else can you do anyway. Those who think they can orchestrate their significance to the maker are sadly mistaken, I think. It is all a gift. I thank God for creating me. That part I am sure of. I wasn't and he made me for some purpose and I hope I haven't disappointed him too much. What if I never was? Well I guess I wouldn't know that, but there are others who would have a different life if that were so...Anyway I really have loved living. Even in the very depth of sorrow and pain or trouble, there has been a wonderment that I have been blessed with. Even this new journey is an experience that is unique for some and I think it is a strange blessing too. Got to finish the laundry~!
BUT...I look at the heaps and piles of brown skinned, ash covered, crumbled bodies in Haiti, bodies that are bulldozed away into mass graves and I wonder about their significance.
I have been given this chance to ponder and to seek out that connection to the unknown, unsure, and because I am significant?, I go to the place were million dollar equipment is waiting to zap me another month or two. Nice food, warm house, loving friends, comfort at church, fun nights out etc. Why am I more significant than the broken brown person? Not I am sure.
This God thing is hard to believe. I mean, if he is all powerful, etc., what does he need with our worship. Of course, that is church stuff, stuff that keeps us in societal roles and pays the bills for the cathedrals etc., but really what does God care about my worshiping him. That's a lot like having Bill Clinton give a damn if I like him or not.
Now, don't get me wrong, there is no doubt in my educated mind that there is a creator. One cannot look under a microscope, or into a telescope, or anywhere in this world and find chaos. It is planned. But what the hell for? Do you suppose we are just a group of a few million that were dropped down here in the beginning and provide entertainment for the maker. Kinda like a video game? I don't like that I idea. God loves us, so they say. I have felt that love during my time here and I have known others who have absolutely no doubt about God's plan. I have doubts, but I also have hope and trust. And what else can you do anyway. Those who think they can orchestrate their significance to the maker are sadly mistaken, I think. It is all a gift. I thank God for creating me. That part I am sure of. I wasn't and he made me for some purpose and I hope I haven't disappointed him too much. What if I never was? Well I guess I wouldn't know that, but there are others who would have a different life if that were so...Anyway I really have loved living. Even in the very depth of sorrow and pain or trouble, there has been a wonderment that I have been blessed with. Even this new journey is an experience that is unique for some and I think it is a strange blessing too. Got to finish the laundry~!
Friday, March 12, 2010
The winner!
What in the hell do you people who don't work do all day? I have way too much time on my hands. I cleaned my closet, my med chest, making a few scrap book entries, bought something to quilt, reading one of Dan Brown's missile's, etc., etc. The TV is a waste land and hell one can only sleep so much. I woke up a 4 am and was thankful there were only two more hours before the newspaper arrives. I do enjoy the paper and the puzzles each morning. 10 AM to the radiation, takes about 4 minutes. No point shopping, don't need anything, so come on home and fiddle around until the 5 pm NeWS. I think I'll get used to this life and maybe the puking will take up some of my time later.
Now....thoughts of having different cancers. I have an acquaintance who has had a lot of skin cancer, non dangerous type, and she wears that title like a badge. Counts her trips to the doc. Won't go out without sunshade, which she says doesn't help, and wears a hat etc. It is like she is proud of the status.
There is a bit of pride, or maybe way too much in all of us. My latest snob attack is about brain cancer. Now I would not want to have anal cancer, or mouth cancer, or uterine cancer, etc. The elite of the cancer crowd must be brain! And I am told my tumor is in the highest functioning part, math and engineering! Well of course!
So while I am in the waiting room scanning all the cancer magazines, I sneer at the barrage of breast cancer stories. That's nothing, I've been there and done that. No prestige in breast cancer.
That my friends are the crazies that come upon people walking down roads they would rather not. I wish you all NO cancer, NO prestige, NO sympathy, NO importance.
Now....thoughts of having different cancers. I have an acquaintance who has had a lot of skin cancer, non dangerous type, and she wears that title like a badge. Counts her trips to the doc. Won't go out without sunshade, which she says doesn't help, and wears a hat etc. It is like she is proud of the status.
There is a bit of pride, or maybe way too much in all of us. My latest snob attack is about brain cancer. Now I would not want to have anal cancer, or mouth cancer, or uterine cancer, etc. The elite of the cancer crowd must be brain! And I am told my tumor is in the highest functioning part, math and engineering! Well of course!
So while I am in the waiting room scanning all the cancer magazines, I sneer at the barrage of breast cancer stories. That's nothing, I've been there and done that. No prestige in breast cancer.
That my friends are the crazies that come upon people walking down roads they would rather not. I wish you all NO cancer, NO prestige, NO sympathy, NO importance.
Thursday, March 11, 2010
De Nile
Well, I been thinking of how I would have orchestrated this whole story. The last time I had cancer I was home alone when the doctor called and she said I'd like you to come in to talk with me. I told her I just wanted the news then. Sydney was not home. When someone says to you. You have cancer, what you hear is "your going to die."
I savored my time alone that day and wondered how or if I would tell anyone. Of course, I did.
I have made several trips to the hospital without Sydney because I hate exposing any weakness or neediness, but also because then I have to become the care taker of the worried well. One time I went to the ER for a pain in my gut. I called him and told him I was there and then the night went on and I called him the next morning. I said "what the hell you doing?" "Eating breakfast" "aren't you worried about me?" "No, I know where you are." I had my gall bladder removed that afternoon.
Now, this trip.
Well I had to ask him to take me to the ER this time, but I tried to get him to drop me off and he stayed too long, but he had gone home when I learned the seriousness of the situation. They wanted me to call him before they talked to me and I said, no, I'll handle that.
I didn't handle it well enough and by the time the sun went down people on the west coast had the news and the town crier was out about to the banks and walmart spreading the news. How can one be in any kind of denial when the phone is ringing off the hook etc.
I had a husband, number three, who got liver cancer. He called up everyone and told them he had the big C. Then a couple of days later he called to say it was a mistake and then a couple of months later he went into cave in the mountains and died privately.
It just doesn't seem to real at times because I feel good, look good, lots of energy and my mind set is stable and what the hell. I don't think I want to do this.
On the other hand, the messages, love, prayers, support, kindness, concern, laughter and connections from all of my people which are priceless.
Sydney is coping as he copes, being nice, being bossy, being nosey, being angry, being confused and hoping.
Pascha's first wish is that I can see him graduate...three years....I think I can.
I savored my time alone that day and wondered how or if I would tell anyone. Of course, I did.
I have made several trips to the hospital without Sydney because I hate exposing any weakness or neediness, but also because then I have to become the care taker of the worried well. One time I went to the ER for a pain in my gut. I called him and told him I was there and then the night went on and I called him the next morning. I said "what the hell you doing?" "Eating breakfast" "aren't you worried about me?" "No, I know where you are." I had my gall bladder removed that afternoon.
Now, this trip.
Well I had to ask him to take me to the ER this time, but I tried to get him to drop me off and he stayed too long, but he had gone home when I learned the seriousness of the situation. They wanted me to call him before they talked to me and I said, no, I'll handle that.
I didn't handle it well enough and by the time the sun went down people on the west coast had the news and the town crier was out about to the banks and walmart spreading the news. How can one be in any kind of denial when the phone is ringing off the hook etc.
I had a husband, number three, who got liver cancer. He called up everyone and told them he had the big C. Then a couple of days later he called to say it was a mistake and then a couple of months later he went into cave in the mountains and died privately.
It just doesn't seem to real at times because I feel good, look good, lots of energy and my mind set is stable and what the hell. I don't think I want to do this.
On the other hand, the messages, love, prayers, support, kindness, concern, laughter and connections from all of my people which are priceless.
Sydney is coping as he copes, being nice, being bossy, being nosey, being angry, being confused and hoping.
Pascha's first wish is that I can see him graduate...three years....I think I can.
Wednesday, March 10, 2010
Connections!
Wow, what an audience. I think I am going to like have a readership. I had a friend who choose to die a couple of years ago because they wanted to cut off both of her hands, and she was an artist. So she designed her funeral and had a one-man art show! If they fry my brain, as my not so delicate husband says, I won't be able to continue this, so I hope they don't.
Don't worry about Sydney's crudeness. It is only on the surface. When my son died in Portland, after the autopsy Sydney brought the cremains home in a box. He walked in and said, "That is absolutely the last time I am going to haul your kid back and forth to Portland."
This is how you get radiation. You go into a nice, painted blue, calm room with a long metal table which has what looks like a huge white spearmint candy up by the head of the table. The helpers, all friendly and nice, put a huge wedge under my knee so my back wouldn't give out. Then a gal put a wet, fishnet looking piece of plastic on my face and dried it to conform to me. They marked a couple of spots, left the room and took pictures through a window, etc. The next time I came the mask was dry. They put it on, screw it to the table so you can't more and leave the room. The spearmint thing rolls around and little red and green lights dance for about 4 minutes and then your done. Every day for 3-4 weeks. I'm told my hair will go after about 3 weeks, Maybe for Easter. Anyone know how to paint Ukrainian eggs?
The other night I went to the casino, by myself, to zone out. I was playing a game with three fish, if all three fish light up with your chosen numbers, you get six times pay. I would lose all but about two nickles and then win enough to play for a while more. This went on and on and I begin to think about life and death and how we get a little extra time to play some more and then it begins fading away again, and then the fish light up and hope is restored, and then down again. As I began to realise I was eventually going to lose I rationalized I could put more money in the machine, but then I knew that I would eventually run out of money, and life.
While I was in the bathtub the other day, shaving my legs, I looked at my lovely leg and thought "I hate to lose my vehicle" My grandmother made remarks about my huge legs when I was 14 and I have hated them ever since. I apologized to them the other night.
I won't write everyday, well I might, but you have other things to do, so catch up when you can. CAROL
Don't worry about Sydney's crudeness. It is only on the surface. When my son died in Portland, after the autopsy Sydney brought the cremains home in a box. He walked in and said, "That is absolutely the last time I am going to haul your kid back and forth to Portland."
This is how you get radiation. You go into a nice, painted blue, calm room with a long metal table which has what looks like a huge white spearmint candy up by the head of the table. The helpers, all friendly and nice, put a huge wedge under my knee so my back wouldn't give out. Then a gal put a wet, fishnet looking piece of plastic on my face and dried it to conform to me. They marked a couple of spots, left the room and took pictures through a window, etc. The next time I came the mask was dry. They put it on, screw it to the table so you can't more and leave the room. The spearmint thing rolls around and little red and green lights dance for about 4 minutes and then your done. Every day for 3-4 weeks. I'm told my hair will go after about 3 weeks, Maybe for Easter. Anyone know how to paint Ukrainian eggs?
The other night I went to the casino, by myself, to zone out. I was playing a game with three fish, if all three fish light up with your chosen numbers, you get six times pay. I would lose all but about two nickles and then win enough to play for a while more. This went on and on and I begin to think about life and death and how we get a little extra time to play some more and then it begins fading away again, and then the fish light up and hope is restored, and then down again. As I began to realise I was eventually going to lose I rationalized I could put more money in the machine, but then I knew that I would eventually run out of money, and life.
While I was in the bathtub the other day, shaving my legs, I looked at my lovely leg and thought "I hate to lose my vehicle" My grandmother made remarks about my huge legs when I was 14 and I have hated them ever since. I apologized to them the other night.
I won't write everyday, well I might, but you have other things to do, so catch up when you can. CAROL
Tuesday, March 9, 2010
First day of radiation
Hello from the desk of the Calico Pen. I sit here with a bulletin board on the wall that is covered with email greetings that I have received from many of you during the last few days. What a treat! The nights have been long, not hard, just a lot of introspection and thoughts and then each morning I check the emails and it is so good to know that I was not alone that night.
So....here's how it started. I noticed I had been a little more tired than usual. Not tired, but weary. I thought, "well, maybe I am working too much and maybe I am showing signs of old age," but Sandy reminded me that I was not old just a few weeks ago. Also I had a strange tingling in my right jaw a few times. Kinda felt like a carpal tunnel sensation. Then a week ago I was on the phone chatting with my friend Kathy and I suddenly lost the ability to make words. I could think them, but I couldn't say them. So, on her advice, I took a pill and went down stairs to tell Sydney I needed a ride to the hospital. By then the words were back. I'm thinking TIA, (little warnings of a stroke to come). Beuford, our bad beagle, escaped when we were getting into the truck, so Sydney had to run around the street to catch him while I waited in the truck for the BIG stroke!
At the hospital I had a CT and x-rays and after about three hours a very uncomfortable nurse said she had some very bad new for me. A mass in my brain and also my lung.
"O" I said, "that is bad news." There was a few minutes of feeling tearful, but being a private crier I didn't have any solitude until that night in the hospital. I watched the most beautiful full moon pass across my window and the morning sun turn the Rocky Mountain front into a pink heaven and I accepted the possibilities.
Of course, we go through life looking at death much the way we do the sun. Just a peek, or a glimpse, because it is too much all at once. When the time comes for me to say goodbye, I don't think I will be too sad at leaving those I love but the hard thing for me to contemplate is the loss of ME..
Last night I thought about all the millions of people who are here on earth now and who have passed through here and wondered what possible significance any one of us can have to the maker we call God. Then my thoughts went on to Universes and cosmos and DNA etc. Think of all the millions of cells in my body that make up this structure called Carol! Then extrapolate that to the universal matters...
So...this morning I woke early, worked on my book club reading, threw the bedspread in the washer and decided to tackle my spring cleaning before the puking begins. Yesterday I threw away every piece of clothing that did not flatter me. And last Friday I bought a skull cap, red with skulls on it, and some huge red hoop earrings. I think I might like not having hair, but maybe the eyebrows need to be a tatto.
So....here's how it started. I noticed I had been a little more tired than usual. Not tired, but weary. I thought, "well, maybe I am working too much and maybe I am showing signs of old age," but Sandy reminded me that I was not old just a few weeks ago. Also I had a strange tingling in my right jaw a few times. Kinda felt like a carpal tunnel sensation. Then a week ago I was on the phone chatting with my friend Kathy and I suddenly lost the ability to make words. I could think them, but I couldn't say them. So, on her advice, I took a pill and went down stairs to tell Sydney I needed a ride to the hospital. By then the words were back. I'm thinking TIA, (little warnings of a stroke to come). Beuford, our bad beagle, escaped when we were getting into the truck, so Sydney had to run around the street to catch him while I waited in the truck for the BIG stroke!
At the hospital I had a CT and x-rays and after about three hours a very uncomfortable nurse said she had some very bad new for me. A mass in my brain and also my lung.
"O" I said, "that is bad news." There was a few minutes of feeling tearful, but being a private crier I didn't have any solitude until that night in the hospital. I watched the most beautiful full moon pass across my window and the morning sun turn the Rocky Mountain front into a pink heaven and I accepted the possibilities.
Of course, we go through life looking at death much the way we do the sun. Just a peek, or a glimpse, because it is too much all at once. When the time comes for me to say goodbye, I don't think I will be too sad at leaving those I love but the hard thing for me to contemplate is the loss of ME..
Last night I thought about all the millions of people who are here on earth now and who have passed through here and wondered what possible significance any one of us can have to the maker we call God. Then my thoughts went on to Universes and cosmos and DNA etc. Think of all the millions of cells in my body that make up this structure called Carol! Then extrapolate that to the universal matters...
So...this morning I woke early, worked on my book club reading, threw the bedspread in the washer and decided to tackle my spring cleaning before the puking begins. Yesterday I threw away every piece of clothing that did not flatter me. And last Friday I bought a skull cap, red with skulls on it, and some huge red hoop earrings. I think I might like not having hair, but maybe the eyebrows need to be a tatto.
Monday, March 8, 2010
A turn in the road for me.
I found out last week that I have a brain tumor and probably more stuff, so... I am thinking about a lot of things. I plan on blogging through this path, onto only God knows where, and I invite you to read my thoughts and stuff if you are comfortable with that. If not, thats ok too. I am in a peaceful state as of today, March 7th and I thank all of you for your concern. Be watching for deep thoughts, pisssed off days, days with blessings, days with sadness and pain and days with I hope a lot of grace.
Urban Moguls
The 2010 Winter Olympics reminded me that both the haves and the have-nots can hope for a place on the podium, but I suspect that those going home with a medal believed most in their impossible dreams. When I was growing up my dad told me there was no such word as can't, and when, at the age of seven I climbed on a yearling steer, I believed him.
These days I straddle urban moguls, snow berms left by city snowplows, with my walking stick that I winterized with an ice pick tip to retrieve the mail. The winter games, for this senior citizen, who still has a can-do philosophy offers no medals, only safe passage.
When I was a kid, my friends and I tested the thickness of the ice on the pond and when it was safe, we swapped poor fitting skates from the year before and ventured forth on wobbly ankles. When I outgrew the double-blade skates that strapped onto my shoes, I traded those for shoe-skates and learned to skate backwards and make figure eights on the ice.
We never heard a sled called a luge, but we constructed downhill snow chutes for our wooden sleds and I discovered if I threw my self belly-flop style on the sled I could go faster. I also discovered that when I put my tongue on the metal part of the sled it was stuck there. A friend held the sled up for me and walked to her house, with me and my tongue still attached, where her mother separated me from the sled with some warm water.
My quest for fame and medals as a skier was thwarted by my mother who DID believe in the word can't. Santa brought me skies and I soon was swooshing down a small hill in our neighborhood. Then I tried jumping from a wooden box to "catch some air" before going down the hill. My dad hooked a towrope to the back of his car and pulled me around our rural roads but my personal slalom ended when I had to let go of the rope and ski off the road to get out of the way of an oncoming car.
Years later, long past my rite of passage in AARP memembership, I found a pair of cross-country skis at a garage sale. I thought, "why not?" I hid the skis at our cabin and waited for a day when I was alone to try the skis. My dog knew something special was taking place and she barked happily as I clamped the binders on. With my poles in hand and 90-degree knees, I pushed both skis forward and fell on my butt where I stayed for a long time. I didn't know how to get the skis off and I could'nt stand up. I rolled around in the snow and my dog whined and licked at my face until I made my way to a fence post. When I was standing again, I tried pushing the skis one at a time and after awhile I could slowly make my way back and forth across the flat surface in our driveway without returning to the fence post.
A couple of weeks later, when we gathered at the cabin for a weekend with our family, I skied down to the main road to greet them. Everyone was amazed and the grandchildren were surprised that their old granny could do such a thing. Such are the lessons from the elders. Maybe there is no such word as can't.
These days I straddle urban moguls, snow berms left by city snowplows, with my walking stick that I winterized with an ice pick tip to retrieve the mail. The winter games, for this senior citizen, who still has a can-do philosophy offers no medals, only safe passage.
When I was a kid, my friends and I tested the thickness of the ice on the pond and when it was safe, we swapped poor fitting skates from the year before and ventured forth on wobbly ankles. When I outgrew the double-blade skates that strapped onto my shoes, I traded those for shoe-skates and learned to skate backwards and make figure eights on the ice.
We never heard a sled called a luge, but we constructed downhill snow chutes for our wooden sleds and I discovered if I threw my self belly-flop style on the sled I could go faster. I also discovered that when I put my tongue on the metal part of the sled it was stuck there. A friend held the sled up for me and walked to her house, with me and my tongue still attached, where her mother separated me from the sled with some warm water.
My quest for fame and medals as a skier was thwarted by my mother who DID believe in the word can't. Santa brought me skies and I soon was swooshing down a small hill in our neighborhood. Then I tried jumping from a wooden box to "catch some air" before going down the hill. My dad hooked a towrope to the back of his car and pulled me around our rural roads but my personal slalom ended when I had to let go of the rope and ski off the road to get out of the way of an oncoming car.
Years later, long past my rite of passage in AARP memembership, I found a pair of cross-country skis at a garage sale. I thought, "why not?" I hid the skis at our cabin and waited for a day when I was alone to try the skis. My dog knew something special was taking place and she barked happily as I clamped the binders on. With my poles in hand and 90-degree knees, I pushed both skis forward and fell on my butt where I stayed for a long time. I didn't know how to get the skis off and I could'nt stand up. I rolled around in the snow and my dog whined and licked at my face until I made my way to a fence post. When I was standing again, I tried pushing the skis one at a time and after awhile I could slowly make my way back and forth across the flat surface in our driveway without returning to the fence post.
A couple of weeks later, when we gathered at the cabin for a weekend with our family, I skied down to the main road to greet them. Everyone was amazed and the grandchildren were surprised that their old granny could do such a thing. Such are the lessons from the elders. Maybe there is no such word as can't.
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