- The CT scan shows infiltrates in the lungs.
- My eosinophil (EOS) counts are still high.
- I'll return to CoH tomorrow for a bronchoscopy and biopsy of tissue sample.
- I'll see Dr. Forman again on Monday and we'll figure out the treatment plan.
- All of the same symptoms are persisting.
Thursday, July 31, 2008
Quick Summary
I spent most of the day at City of Hope and then came home for a one-hour snooze. Here's a brief summary:
Karen's great escape
Today our stay-at-home-moms' group went downtown to Science City, a science museum for kids. It was great fun. We hadn't been there since WCK was a year old, so she got a lot more out of her visit this time. She got to dig for dinosaur bones, play with bubbles, twirl pieces of Styrofoam in a cool wind machine thing, play mini-golf, ride in a helicopter, play music on trash cans, and sail rubber duckies in a water maze, among many other things. I didn't think I'd ever get her out of there. She was completely worn out when we got home.
The last time we were there, if you'll remember, there was an African bullfrog on display in the animal area. I felt a special kinship with this frog, because the frog was named Karen. That's her photo with my blog profile. This morning, I looked all over for Karen, but she was nowhere to be seen. I started to worry that maybe -- gulp -- Karen had passed away. I'm not sure how long African bullfrogs live. Maybe two years is, like, 80 years in Bullfrog Years.
Deep in my heart, though, I know Karen is just fine. I've decided that she orchestrated a daring escape from the science museum, perhaps with some of her lizard and chinchilla friends. Maybe she had to crawl under laser beams and maneuver her way through secret panels in the ceiling. Finally she emerged into the fresh night air, and she headed out on the road to pursue her dream of becoming an actress in Hollywood. You know, just like in The Muppet Movie, only with a slightly less attractive frog.
Good luck to you, Karen. We're all rooting for you.
The last time we were there, if you'll remember, there was an African bullfrog on display in the animal area. I felt a special kinship with this frog, because the frog was named Karen. That's her photo with my blog profile. This morning, I looked all over for Karen, but she was nowhere to be seen. I started to worry that maybe -- gulp -- Karen had passed away. I'm not sure how long African bullfrogs live. Maybe two years is, like, 80 years in Bullfrog Years.
Deep in my heart, though, I know Karen is just fine. I've decided that she orchestrated a daring escape from the science museum, perhaps with some of her lizard and chinchilla friends. Maybe she had to crawl under laser beams and maneuver her way through secret panels in the ceiling. Finally she emerged into the fresh night air, and she headed out on the road to pursue her dream of becoming an actress in Hollywood. You know, just like in The Muppet Movie, only with a slightly less attractive frog.
Good luck to you, Karen. We're all rooting for you.
Cycle 15
Tonight I start my fifteenth cycle of Revlimid, so I thought I'd post another photo of my pills.
Looks like I'm going to have to keep an eye on my stash. You never know when predators are going to attack.
Looks like I'm going to have to keep an eye on my stash. You never know when predators are going to attack.
every year is a gift
In a few days, I will turn 41.
I will be offline, hanging out at one of my favourite places in the world. I am not sure how peaceful it will be (we will be there with four adults, two kids, two puppies and a grown up dog) but I know it will be happy.
Last year my birthday was a very big deal. My friends and co-workers pooled their resources and sent me to BlogHer in
This year I am happy to have things be much lower key. I am feeling pretty lucky these days.
In January, I acknowledged to myself that there were two things I really wanted this year, to attend BlogHer in
That’s a lot. And it’s enough.
Especially when I realize that every birthday marks another year that I have been alive in this beautiful world. Another year surrounded by people I love and in which I have the chance to learn and grow and become stronger.
I have been feeling a little off balance lately, tired and frustrated and somewhat overwhelmed. It’s good to have a birthday to remind me again how lucky I am. And with four clean scans now under my belt, I hope to have lots more chances to celebrate my birthday.
Now that’s not to say that I don’t want a little cake with a few candles and some home made cards from my kids (and I did treat myself to a facial before I left for SF). Even a low-key birthday needs to be celebrated.
I'll be back online on August 11th.
Cross-posted to Mothers With Cancer.
Something to Look Forward To
L has said that if my cancer metastasizes--if I get "the mets"--we can get a dog. (He said this in response to a question, not as an offering. He claims we're both allergic to dogs.) And yesterday I heard on the radio about a woman with Stage 4 ovarian cancer who was helped in her end-of-life anxiety by psilocybin, which you may recognize as the active ingredient in "magic mushrooms"--which, by the way, the Future Farmers of America in my high school were said to have grown and harvested and ingested. I've never tried mushrooms and don't intend to.
Yesterday was the one-year anniversary of my last chemo treatment. I kept thinking yesterday that it was still the 29th, so that today would be the anniversary. So in a way I missed it.
Click here and scroll down for excellent photos of dachshund puppies. (Of course, all puppies are cute, even Rottweilers and pit bulls.) I am convinced I will be reincarnated as a brown (technically, "red") dachshund. (More on this here.)
To adopt a dachshund, check in with Almost Home.
For beautiful beagle puppies, click here. This is not an endorsement of the kennels.
Yesterday was the one-year anniversary of my last chemo treatment. I kept thinking yesterday that it was still the 29th, so that today would be the anniversary. So in a way I missed it.
Click here and scroll down for excellent photos of dachshund puppies. (Of course, all puppies are cute, even Rottweilers and pit bulls.) I am convinced I will be reincarnated as a brown (technically, "red") dachshund. (More on this here.)
To adopt a dachshund, check in with Almost Home.
For beautiful beagle puppies, click here. This is not an endorsement of the kennels.
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
Cancer in the News
Cancer has been big in the news in the last fortnight or so. There was the report about breast self-exams in Russia and China. Based on their study of two populations of factory workers, researchers found that self-exams didn't help women survive breast cancer. You can find a very good look at the study here. The message (or "take home message," as people are saying now) is that you shouldn't stop examining your breasts. As Socrates said, an unexamined breast is worth examining. Or something like that.
Then from the U of Pittsburgh Cancer Institute comes a warning about cell phones. Don't put 'em directly on your ear. Get a headset or go wireless. They could cause brain tumors. They might not, but you should play it safe.
And the New York Times told us about a kitchen with a radioactive counter. Granite. I feel vindicated. The realtor describe my condo as having a "1990s kitchen and bathrooms--need updating." Need updating? Not really, unless you're allergic to tile. And it seems lots of people are--they need kitchens and bathrooms with granite and slate and quartz. The sellers of our new house remodeled their kitchen and bathrooms before putting the house on the market. For some unknown reason, they put in dark, dark slate on the floors of the bathrooms and on the lower half of the bathroom walls. Why would someone do that? They put in stainless steel refrigerator, stove and dishwasher, and dark blue/black granite countertops. What if they're radioactive? What if they emit radon? Should we get a technician to come out with a Geiger counter?
What will be the next new thing that we need? And will it imperil us?
Then from the U of Pittsburgh Cancer Institute comes a warning about cell phones. Don't put 'em directly on your ear. Get a headset or go wireless. They could cause brain tumors. They might not, but you should play it safe.
And the New York Times told us about a kitchen with a radioactive counter. Granite. I feel vindicated. The realtor describe my condo as having a "1990s kitchen and bathrooms--need updating." Need updating? Not really, unless you're allergic to tile. And it seems lots of people are--they need kitchens and bathrooms with granite and slate and quartz. The sellers of our new house remodeled their kitchen and bathrooms before putting the house on the market. For some unknown reason, they put in dark, dark slate on the floors of the bathrooms and on the lower half of the bathroom walls. Why would someone do that? They put in stainless steel refrigerator, stove and dishwasher, and dark blue/black granite countertops. What if they're radioactive? What if they emit radon? Should we get a technician to come out with a Geiger counter?
What will be the next new thing that we need? And will it imperil us?
Bubblicious
A WCK and I were running errands today, we approached an apartment complex that has a big fountain on its lawn. From far away, it looked as though an enormous snowdrift was covering the lawn. As we got closer, though, we saw that someone had apparently dumped some kind of soap into the fountain. Giant mounds of bubbles billowed everywhere.
Of course, WCK was fascinated. So was I. We sat in a parking lot across from the fountain for a few minutes and watched the bubbles. They spilled across four lanes of traffic; huge clumps rolled across the road like tumbleweeds. Two helpless looking maintenance workers tried to get the bubbles under control, to no avail. As we watched, I had to pretend like I'm actually a Responsible Mom and make an occasional remark such as, "You know, it's not very nice to put bubbles in someone else's fountain," or "Whoever did that was being very bad."
In reality, though, I thought it was the coolest thing I'd seen in a really long time. I wondered what kind of soap they used to get such good results.
Of course, WCK was fascinated. So was I. We sat in a parking lot across from the fountain for a few minutes and watched the bubbles. They spilled across four lanes of traffic; huge clumps rolled across the road like tumbleweeds. Two helpless looking maintenance workers tried to get the bubbles under control, to no avail. As we watched, I had to pretend like I'm actually a Responsible Mom and make an occasional remark such as, "You know, it's not very nice to put bubbles in someone else's fountain," or "Whoever did that was being very bad."
In reality, though, I thought it was the coolest thing I'd seen in a really long time. I wondered what kind of soap they used to get such good results.
Who the Hell re-engineered the Microwave
Blew up my oatmeal (eating healthy counting calories) in the industrial strength microwave at work, how many engineers does it take to heat up oatmeal ??? they don't eat oatmeal just tada chips M&M's and MoutainDew
Getting ready for my lab work Saturday in anticipation of the oncology visit on Monday (I will give them my right hand this weekend and my left hand on Monday for the blood draw I will give for my transplant doc visit)
Finally set up an apt. w/ an endocrinologist here the last time I saw one I was at Stanford. Will probe the problem about the effects this prednisone is having on the body (high sugars, and gynecomastia)
Will try the mask (CPAP) out tonight I don’t like it at all and I see where it can cause its users to become dependent on it.
Getting ready for my lab work Saturday in anticipation of the oncology visit on Monday (I will give them my right hand this weekend and my left hand on Monday for the blood draw I will give for my transplant doc visit)
Finally set up an apt. w/ an endocrinologist here the last time I saw one I was at Stanford. Will probe the problem about the effects this prednisone is having on the body (high sugars, and gynecomastia)
Will try the mask (CPAP) out tonight I don’t like it at all and I see where it can cause its users to become dependent on it.
Gasping for Air
As I sit typing while watching Hoda and Kathie Lee on the Today Show, I think, "I feel pretty good. My body is slowly healing on its own."
But then I can no longer hold Betty at bay. She is barking and nudging me and crying out, "What's going on, Mom? Why haven't you fed me?" I take a few tentative steps. So far so good. I descend the stairs. No problem. I reach the kitchen and start gasping for air. I feed Betty and gather food for myself. I collapse in a chair.
I climb back up the stairs and, by the time I reach the top, I'm trying desperately to get enough oxygen into my lungs.
As bad as that may sound, I think I'm doing a little better than yesterday. And I'm definitely doing better than the weekend.
I won't need to exert myself for another two hours, when I'll start getting ready for my afternoon scans and x-rays at CoH.
Tomorrow I'll return at 10 am for pulmonary testing, appointment with pulmonologist, blood draw and, finally at 2 pm, another visit with Dr. Forman.
But then I can no longer hold Betty at bay. She is barking and nudging me and crying out, "What's going on, Mom? Why haven't you fed me?" I take a few tentative steps. So far so good. I descend the stairs. No problem. I reach the kitchen and start gasping for air. I feed Betty and gather food for myself. I collapse in a chair.
I climb back up the stairs and, by the time I reach the top, I'm trying desperately to get enough oxygen into my lungs.
As bad as that may sound, I think I'm doing a little better than yesterday. And I'm definitely doing better than the weekend.
I won't need to exert myself for another two hours, when I'll start getting ready for my afternoon scans and x-rays at CoH.
Tomorrow I'll return at 10 am for pulmonary testing, appointment with pulmonologist, blood draw and, finally at 2 pm, another visit with Dr. Forman.
How much do I owe you?
If you're reading this post, no doubt you can see the little "Light the Night" widgets in the left column. I wonder how many of you have clicked on the widget. I wonder if any of you have thought, "I'd like to give a little something, but I don't know how much." I wonder how much the woman at Dosa paid for her orange Hermes bag.
If you've also wondered about how much to donate, I'd like to offer a few giving guidelines today.
I suggest that you consider your Cancer Banter experience. Have you ever been:
On the other hand, if reading Cancer Banter has been a real downer for you, consider subtracting $10 from that total for each time you have been:
If you've also wondered about how much to donate, I'd like to offer a few giving guidelines today.
I suggest that you consider your Cancer Banter experience. Have you ever been:
- Enlightened
- Entertained
- Informed
- Inspired
- Thankful
On the other hand, if reading Cancer Banter has been a real downer for you, consider subtracting $10 from that total for each time you have been:
- Disgusted
- Disappointed
- Filled with regret
- Angry
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
Really big movie
A few posts ago, I mentioned that WCK and I were re-living fun summer days from my childhood, and the only thing missing was the red Kool-Aid. I was wrong. Another thing was missing: Sitting in a severely air-conditioned movie theater in the middle of the day.
I love going to movies. I still remember my mom taking me to my first movies when I was about WCK's age, maybe a little bit older. The first movies I remember were Lady and the Tramp and Mary Poppins. These are two of my favorite movies to this day. I ask all of you to re-watch Lady and the Tramp, though. Does Tramp get Lady pregnant on their first date??!? Watch it again. He TOTALLY does.
And I remember my babysitter taking me to see E.T. Afterwards, she took me to the arcade at the mall and taught me how to play Pac Man. I wonder if that all really happened in one day, or if I'm just condensing all of the early '80s into one memory.
Anyway. I love going to movies. Back before we had WCK, Jay and I would go to a movie almost every week, sometimes more often. We loved going to the brand-new Disney and Pixar movies, although we were always the only adults in the audience who were there without kids. We'd always say, "We need to have a baby so we can come to Pixar movies without looking creepy." That was the main reason we had WCK. Well, that and the fact that we thought we were getting too much sleep and our house was too clean.
I wanted WCK to share in my love of movies, and I couldn't wait for her to be old enough to come to the movies with us. One year ago, if you'll remember, I tried taking her to Curious George. It was a little too intense, and we had to flee the theater in terror not long after the opening credits. I kept her away from theaters until this morning, when I thought we would try again. We went to the $2 kids' movie and saw Clifford's Really Big Movie:
The plot was pretty bland (Clifford runs away from home to perform in a talent show so he can win free dog food), but WCK was enthralled! She sat through the entire movie, staring up at the screen in amazement the whole time. Part of it could have been the fact that I let her have some movie popcorn. For $3, you can get a "kiddie combo", which includes a teeny bit of popcorn, a tiny package of candy, and a teeny pop. (Well, "teeny" and "tiny" for movie theater sizes. They'd actually be normal sizes out in the real world.) I slipped the candy into my bag, drank the pop by myself, and shared the popcorn with WCK. It was the perfect amount of movie food. I think I'll order the kiddie combo for myself every time I go to the movies.
I'm very excited about this no-longer-afraid-of-movies development. Once we conquer the fear of vacuums, I might be able to lead a semi-normal life.
I love going to movies. I still remember my mom taking me to my first movies when I was about WCK's age, maybe a little bit older. The first movies I remember were Lady and the Tramp and Mary Poppins. These are two of my favorite movies to this day. I ask all of you to re-watch Lady and the Tramp, though. Does Tramp get Lady pregnant on their first date??!? Watch it again. He TOTALLY does.
And I remember my babysitter taking me to see E.T. Afterwards, she took me to the arcade at the mall and taught me how to play Pac Man. I wonder if that all really happened in one day, or if I'm just condensing all of the early '80s into one memory.
Anyway. I love going to movies. Back before we had WCK, Jay and I would go to a movie almost every week, sometimes more often. We loved going to the brand-new Disney and Pixar movies, although we were always the only adults in the audience who were there without kids. We'd always say, "We need to have a baby so we can come to Pixar movies without looking creepy." That was the main reason we had WCK. Well, that and the fact that we thought we were getting too much sleep and our house was too clean.
I wanted WCK to share in my love of movies, and I couldn't wait for her to be old enough to come to the movies with us. One year ago, if you'll remember, I tried taking her to Curious George. It was a little too intense, and we had to flee the theater in terror not long after the opening credits. I kept her away from theaters until this morning, when I thought we would try again. We went to the $2 kids' movie and saw Clifford's Really Big Movie:
The plot was pretty bland (Clifford runs away from home to perform in a talent show so he can win free dog food), but WCK was enthralled! She sat through the entire movie, staring up at the screen in amazement the whole time. Part of it could have been the fact that I let her have some movie popcorn. For $3, you can get a "kiddie combo", which includes a teeny bit of popcorn, a tiny package of candy, and a teeny pop. (Well, "teeny" and "tiny" for movie theater sizes. They'd actually be normal sizes out in the real world.) I slipped the candy into my bag, drank the pop by myself, and shared the popcorn with WCK. It was the perfect amount of movie food. I think I'll order the kiddie combo for myself every time I go to the movies.
I'm very excited about this no-longer-afraid-of-movies development. Once we conquer the fear of vacuums, I might be able to lead a semi-normal life.
a very good man
On my first full day in San Francisco, I spent the early part of the day playing tourist. A highlight was a visit to City Lights Book Store. When I am away on my own, my kids and my spouse are never very far from my mind and this wonderful and historic book store seemed like as good a place as any to buy them some presents.
And so I did. I bought an armload of stories that I had never seen anywhere else and put them all in canvas bag with the store's name on it. I left the store feeling very pleased with myself.
I schlepped those books from North Beach to Union Square, for the orientation session for BlogHer speakers. But before going out for dinner and on to the various BlogHer welcome receptions, I stowed all my stuff in Babz's room in the hotel, so that I wouldn't have to carry them or risk losing them. Again, I felt very pleased with myself.
I had a lovely evening. I don't handle crowds of new people very well but there is something to be said for hitching yourself to an extrovert and just enjoying the experiences. And so I basked in Babz's glow and met some wonderful people at the Speakers' reception. I even won the door prize, a Nintendo DS.
As that party wound down, we headed up to the Newbie party for BlogHer first-timers. I demurred, as I was not a newbie but someone convinced me that I could play a role in welcoming the newbies. It sounded good to me, and besides it was in a rooftop bar with a beautiful view. I had expected to make the evening a short one, as I was jet-lagged and feeling the three hour time difference. I also had to commute out to friends' place where I was staying in Oakland. But it wasn't until we arrived at our third party of the evening (in yet another part of the hotel) that I realized that I had hit a wall (and that the room was just too packed for me). I left that party as quickly as I had entered it and headed back up to Babz's room to get my stuff.
Babz walked me down to the taxi stand (it was too late for me to feel safe walking home from the BART in Oakland) and saw me get off safely.
It was at that point that I realized that I was more than a little drunk. As I had been busy socializing all evening, the bar had been open and my glass was always full. And somehow it hadn't occurred to me to get someone to fill my glass with water.
I managed to slur out the address in Oakland to my cab driver, a young man who was really very nice. When I couldn't tell him how to get to my destination, he first called a friend and then used his Blackberry to call up a map. He had to use it again when I couldn't tell him where to exit off the freeway (something I could not have done even if I were sober. I am a terrible navigator).
While he drove, we chatted a little bit. I told him about the conference. He told me that he didn't usually like to drive to Oakland but that he was doing it for me because I "seem like a nice person."
"I am a nice person," I enthusiastically replied.
We were both relieved and happy when he dropped me off in front of my friends' building and we wished each other well.
In the middle of the night (skipping over the part where I locked myself out and had to wake my hosts who I had only met the day before so that they could let me in), I woke with a start and registered the fact that I no longer had the City Lights bag.
I tip-toed down the hall and back out to the street to see if I had left the bag on the front stoop (where I had sat while I had been trying to sober up), to no avail. Nor did Babz find the bag in her room. My receipt didn't have the name of the taxi company (and I couldn't remember). I checked twice with hotel security (in case it had been found and dropped off there) and with the lost and found table for BlogHer. By Saturday, I had given up and was trying to decide if I should return to City Lights and attempt to replace the presents I'd bought.
Then, on Saturday, as I was being miked for the session at which I was speaking, I heard my name being called. "I was your taxi driver," he said. And on his arm was a bag full of books.
"How did you find me?"
He made typing motions with his fingers. "Your name was on your credit card slip."
I was euphoric.
I asked him if I could hug him.
I offered him money (he refused).
Babz took his picture (which I won't post here because it doesn't do him justice).
And everyone made a big fuss.
"I was in the neighbourhood," he said, modestly.
But I know that he went to great lengths to track me down. He googled my name to find my blog. My last post had said that I was going to the BlogHer conference. I had linked to the BlogHer agenda, so he must have read it to find my name and the title of my session (I had told him that I was speaking). He then came to the hotel, checked the directory and followed the labyrinthine corridors to find me.
I am so touched by what he did. I wish that there had been something I could have done (I could have insisted on giving him money but I felt like it would embarrass him). His name is Eduardo and he is a lovely man.
The next time I have the chance to something nice for a stranger, I will think of Eduardo. I encourage all of you to do the same. If you do, please let me know in the comments (or if something like this has ever happened to you, please share that as well).
And yes, I really did behave myself for the rest of the conference.
And so I did. I bought an armload of stories that I had never seen anywhere else and put them all in canvas bag with the store's name on it. I left the store feeling very pleased with myself.
I schlepped those books from North Beach to Union Square, for the orientation session for BlogHer speakers. But before going out for dinner and on to the various BlogHer welcome receptions, I stowed all my stuff in Babz's room in the hotel, so that I wouldn't have to carry them or risk losing them. Again, I felt very pleased with myself.
I had a lovely evening. I don't handle crowds of new people very well but there is something to be said for hitching yourself to an extrovert and just enjoying the experiences. And so I basked in Babz's glow and met some wonderful people at the Speakers' reception. I even won the door prize, a Nintendo DS.
As that party wound down, we headed up to the Newbie party for BlogHer first-timers. I demurred, as I was not a newbie but someone convinced me that I could play a role in welcoming the newbies. It sounded good to me, and besides it was in a rooftop bar with a beautiful view. I had expected to make the evening a short one, as I was jet-lagged and feeling the three hour time difference. I also had to commute out to friends' place where I was staying in Oakland. But it wasn't until we arrived at our third party of the evening (in yet another part of the hotel) that I realized that I had hit a wall (and that the room was just too packed for me). I left that party as quickly as I had entered it and headed back up to Babz's room to get my stuff.
Babz walked me down to the taxi stand (it was too late for me to feel safe walking home from the BART in Oakland) and saw me get off safely.
It was at that point that I realized that I was more than a little drunk. As I had been busy socializing all evening, the bar had been open and my glass was always full. And somehow it hadn't occurred to me to get someone to fill my glass with water.
I managed to slur out the address in Oakland to my cab driver, a young man who was really very nice. When I couldn't tell him how to get to my destination, he first called a friend and then used his Blackberry to call up a map. He had to use it again when I couldn't tell him where to exit off the freeway (something I could not have done even if I were sober. I am a terrible navigator).
While he drove, we chatted a little bit. I told him about the conference. He told me that he didn't usually like to drive to Oakland but that he was doing it for me because I "seem like a nice person."
"I am a nice person," I enthusiastically replied.
We were both relieved and happy when he dropped me off in front of my friends' building and we wished each other well.
In the middle of the night (skipping over the part where I locked myself out and had to wake my hosts who I had only met the day before so that they could let me in), I woke with a start and registered the fact that I no longer had the City Lights bag.
I tip-toed down the hall and back out to the street to see if I had left the bag on the front stoop (where I had sat while I had been trying to sober up), to no avail. Nor did Babz find the bag in her room. My receipt didn't have the name of the taxi company (and I couldn't remember). I checked twice with hotel security (in case it had been found and dropped off there) and with the lost and found table for BlogHer. By Saturday, I had given up and was trying to decide if I should return to City Lights and attempt to replace the presents I'd bought.
Then, on Saturday, as I was being miked for the session at which I was speaking, I heard my name being called. "I was your taxi driver," he said. And on his arm was a bag full of books.
"How did you find me?"
He made typing motions with his fingers. "Your name was on your credit card slip."
I was euphoric.
I asked him if I could hug him.
I offered him money (he refused).
Babz took his picture (which I won't post here because it doesn't do him justice).
And everyone made a big fuss.
"I was in the neighbourhood," he said, modestly.
But I know that he went to great lengths to track me down. He googled my name to find my blog. My last post had said that I was going to the BlogHer conference. I had linked to the BlogHer agenda, so he must have read it to find my name and the title of my session (I had told him that I was speaking). He then came to the hotel, checked the directory and followed the labyrinthine corridors to find me.
I am so touched by what he did. I wish that there had been something I could have done (I could have insisted on giving him money but I felt like it would embarrass him). His name is Eduardo and he is a lovely man.
The next time I have the chance to something nice for a stranger, I will think of Eduardo. I encourage all of you to do the same. If you do, please let me know in the comments (or if something like this has ever happened to you, please share that as well).
And yes, I really did behave myself for the rest of the conference.
A Tribute to Bob
Bob traveled around the world as a member of the Katherine Dunham dance troupe in the 1950's.
Below are a few videos of Ms. Dunham's troupe:
Floyd's Guitar Blues (silent) (We think Bob is the male dancer in this clip.)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=In1KtD8Wz9g
Charm Dance (silent)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J1aMxkMo19E
Carnival of Rhythm
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FetuMAGOzBc
Stormy Weather
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W23MYjH92co
Cumbia
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rkVuVagvBAU
Documentary
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7vyx6ue7K6o
Mambo pt.1
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8W9LA7JTtew
list of additional youtube search results for "katherine dunham"
http://www.youtube.com/results?search_query=katherine+dunham&page=1
Thank you to James for providing these links.
Below are a few videos of Ms. Dunham's troupe:
Floyd's Guitar Blues (silent) (We think Bob is the male dancer in this clip.)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=In1KtD8Wz9g
Charm Dance (silent)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J1aMxkMo19E
Carnival of Rhythm
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FetuMAGOzBc
Stormy Weather
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W23MYjH92co
Cumbia
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rkVuVagvBAU
Documentary
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7vyx6ue7K6o
Mambo pt.1
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8W9LA7JTtew
list of additional youtube search results for "katherine dunham"
http://www.youtube.com/results?search_query=katherine+dunham&page=1
Thank you to James for providing these links.
Monday, July 28, 2008
Happiness is a warm blanket.
If I could give new City of Hope patients one piece of advice, it would be, "If someone offers you a warm blanket, take it."
There's nothing like a fresh warm blanket, straight out of the oven, to turn a cranky patient into a cozy one. If someone could figure out how to bake chocolate chip cookies in there at the same time, patients would flock to the City of Hope like preteens to a Miley Cyrus concert. Even patients without cancer would be begging for admission.
Today, I just couldn't bear to walk from the hospital, where I had my x-ray, to the clinic, so I requested transportation (aka wheelchair service). I knew what was coming next.
The technician's first question: "Would you like a warm blanket?"
My answer: "You betcha!"
There's nothing like a fresh warm blanket, straight out of the oven, to turn a cranky patient into a cozy one. If someone could figure out how to bake chocolate chip cookies in there at the same time, patients would flock to the City of Hope like preteens to a Miley Cyrus concert. Even patients without cancer would be begging for admission.
Today, I just couldn't bear to walk from the hospital, where I had my x-ray, to the clinic, so I requested transportation (aka wheelchair service). I knew what was coming next.
The technician's first question: "Would you like a warm blanket?"
My answer: "You betcha!"
The Final Thank You
I just received a call from Bob's nurse practitioner at the VA Hospital Hospice. Bob was found not breathing at 4:20 pm on Saturday.
Kiki and I left his room at 3:10, so the actual time of death must have been shortly after we left. I'm so grateful that we got to lavish two hours of love, affection and thank yous on him. (And, of course, just so he knew us, we had to throw in a few barbs and teases as well.) He could no longer speak, but we know he heard every word and would occasionally squeeze one of our hands.
I think I mentioned in an earlier blog that I wouldn't have gone to SF had I known how sick I was. I'm glad I didn't know.
Kiki and I left his room at 3:10, so the actual time of death must have been shortly after we left. I'm so grateful that we got to lavish two hours of love, affection and thank yous on him. (And, of course, just so he knew us, we had to throw in a few barbs and teases as well.) He could no longer speak, but we know he heard every word and would occasionally squeeze one of our hands.
I think I mentioned in an earlier blog that I wouldn't have gone to SF had I known how sick I was. I'm glad I didn't know.
EOS SOS
Where do I begin?
As predicted the x-ray of my chest is worse and the eosinophils (EOS) are still out of control. So. . . . what's going on?
Dr. Forman knows I'm a researcher, so he first explored how much I know about illnesses related to eosinphils. I told him, "From what I've read, the elevated EOS and my symptoms seem consistent with either Idiopathic Hypereosinphillic Syndrome (HES) or Chronic/Acute Eosinophillic Leukemia. They present the same way, but the leukemia version has clonal cells."
It turns out, that's what he was thinking/fearing too. Both are rare conditions, but for the disease to follow on the heels of MCL (another rare cancer) would be as likely as being struck by lightning. Twice.
Nonetheless, time is of the essence in arriving at the correct diagnosis, and Dr. Forman knows this. Those out of control EOS can start to invade and damage all the organs of the body, including the heart. He immediately wrote up orders for another chest x-ray and chest CT scan, and I'll revisit him on Thursday. I'm also waiting to find out when I'll be scheduled to see the pulmonary specialist. Dr. Forman said the specialist would do a biopsy to find out if EOS are in the lungs.
It's so comforting to have the kind of care where things are happening immediately and I don't have to exert any of my own energy to make them happen. And I'm grateful that all of this is being done on an out-patient basis.
I guess I need to keep hitting the chocolate milkshakes because I'm still losing weight. (Did you know that a Jack in the Box choco shake has 880 calories?) I'm down to a scrawny 113 pounds.
I was looking forward to going back on the steroids so that I could once again become a fully functioning human. But the steroids would affect both the blood and chest results and cloud the diagnosis. (As a matter of fact, Kiki was encouraging me to contact Dr. Forman for steroids while we were in SF, and I told her pretty much the same thing about not wanting to distort what Dr. Forman would see today.)
Darn! I had the most fun and interesting week planned, starting with dinner at Tender Greens in Culver City and an IWOSC meeting tonight. Later in the week, I'd planned to have lunch at Larkin's with three girlfriends, drinks with friends I haven't seen for years and Mojitos on the lawn at the Caltech Athenaeum. I was also going to be a guest on Shirlee Smith's Talk About Parenting cable show. I don't think I want to be gasping for air while I'm on the air, so I'll have to call in my backup.
Bottom line is that we still don't know what "it" is, but we have our suspicions and the brilliant Dr. Forman is on the case.
As predicted the x-ray of my chest is worse and the eosinophils (EOS) are still out of control. So. . . . what's going on?
Dr. Forman knows I'm a researcher, so he first explored how much I know about illnesses related to eosinphils. I told him, "From what I've read, the elevated EOS and my symptoms seem consistent with either Idiopathic Hypereosinphillic Syndrome (HES) or Chronic/Acute Eosinophillic Leukemia. They present the same way, but the leukemia version has clonal cells."
It turns out, that's what he was thinking/fearing too. Both are rare conditions, but for the disease to follow on the heels of MCL (another rare cancer) would be as likely as being struck by lightning. Twice.
Nonetheless, time is of the essence in arriving at the correct diagnosis, and Dr. Forman knows this. Those out of control EOS can start to invade and damage all the organs of the body, including the heart. He immediately wrote up orders for another chest x-ray and chest CT scan, and I'll revisit him on Thursday. I'm also waiting to find out when I'll be scheduled to see the pulmonary specialist. Dr. Forman said the specialist would do a biopsy to find out if EOS are in the lungs.
It's so comforting to have the kind of care where things are happening immediately and I don't have to exert any of my own energy to make them happen. And I'm grateful that all of this is being done on an out-patient basis.
I guess I need to keep hitting the chocolate milkshakes because I'm still losing weight. (Did you know that a Jack in the Box choco shake has 880 calories?) I'm down to a scrawny 113 pounds.
I was looking forward to going back on the steroids so that I could once again become a fully functioning human. But the steroids would affect both the blood and chest results and cloud the diagnosis. (As a matter of fact, Kiki was encouraging me to contact Dr. Forman for steroids while we were in SF, and I told her pretty much the same thing about not wanting to distort what Dr. Forman would see today.)
Darn! I had the most fun and interesting week planned, starting with dinner at Tender Greens in Culver City and an IWOSC meeting tonight. Later in the week, I'd planned to have lunch at Larkin's with three girlfriends, drinks with friends I haven't seen for years and Mojitos on the lawn at the Caltech Athenaeum. I was also going to be a guest on Shirlee Smith's Talk About Parenting cable show. I don't think I want to be gasping for air while I'm on the air, so I'll have to call in my backup.
Bottom line is that we still don't know what "it" is, but we have our suspicions and the brilliant Dr. Forman is on the case.
more than my cancer
I really do have an amazing story to share with all of you and I meant to post it before now. Parenting, however, has proven an impediment. I will tell you my terrific story (how is that for a build up?) tomorrow but for today, here are some thoughts on the BlogHer conference:
When I meet someone new, I don’t usually introduce myself by saying, “I’m Laurie and I have cancer.”
In fact, there are many people I know only casually who have no idea that I have ever been through cancer treatment, let alone that I live with metastasis. People tell me all the time how healthy I look and I take pride (somewhat irrationally, I admit) in the fact that I don’t look like a typical “cancer patient.”Entire days often go by when the word “cancer” does not cross my lips (I would like to say that there are days when it does not cross my mind but that would be a lie). I write about living with cancer but cancer is not my life. And I like it that way.
This year, for the second time, I attended BlogHer, a conference for women bloggers (last year it was in Chicago and this year in San Francisco). The conference sold out this year and there were more than 1,000 women in attendance. For someone who spends a lot of time by myself by choice, this is both an exciting and scary concept.Meeting that many new people at the same time is always overwhelming. However, this is compounded for me because, at BlogHer, when I introduce myself, I have to lead with the fact that I have cancer.
“I’m Laurie and I blog at Not Just About Cancer. And Mothers With Cancer. And MyBreastCancerNetwork.Com.”
You get the idea.
You can read the rest of this post at MyBreastCancerNetwork.Com.
Slim markers make me cry
WCK starts preschool three weeks from tomorrow. PRESCHOOL.
I thought that I was ready for this. In fact, I was kind of looking forward to it. She'll be in school just two mornings a week, from 8 a.m. to 11 a.m. That is a lot of free time for me. I kept thinking of all of the things I could do. I could go to the grocery store without pushing an enormous cart shaped like a school bus. I could vacuum the house or iron a shirt without anyone screaming in terror. I could take an exercise class or clean out all of the closets in the house AND clean the freezer. Knowing me, though, I'll probably fritter away all of my time checking my e-mail or Googling useless information. Still. It was looking pretty exciting.
Then over the weekend, we got a big envelope of information from the preschool. All of a sudden it dawned on me: MY CHILD IS REALLY OLD. MY CHILD IS GOING TO SCHOOL. MY CHILD IS GOING OUT INTO THE WORLD, AND I WILL NOT BE WITH HER. I started reading the supply list out loud to Jay and WCK, and I got all choked up. One of the items is "slim markers." SLIM MARKERS! Somebody thinks my child is old enough to be using slim markers, and not just the big chunky kind. It took an entire day before I could even walk past the supply list without getting misty-eyed.
I'd better toughen up, because eventually we are going to have to go shopping for these supplies. I don't want to be sobbing at Target when I place the slim markers in the cart. Cleanup on Aisle 5!
I thought that I was ready for this. In fact, I was kind of looking forward to it. She'll be in school just two mornings a week, from 8 a.m. to 11 a.m. That is a lot of free time for me. I kept thinking of all of the things I could do. I could go to the grocery store without pushing an enormous cart shaped like a school bus. I could vacuum the house or iron a shirt without anyone screaming in terror. I could take an exercise class or clean out all of the closets in the house AND clean the freezer. Knowing me, though, I'll probably fritter away all of my time checking my e-mail or Googling useless information. Still. It was looking pretty exciting.
Then over the weekend, we got a big envelope of information from the preschool. All of a sudden it dawned on me: MY CHILD IS REALLY OLD. MY CHILD IS GOING TO SCHOOL. MY CHILD IS GOING OUT INTO THE WORLD, AND I WILL NOT BE WITH HER. I started reading the supply list out loud to Jay and WCK, and I got all choked up. One of the items is "slim markers." SLIM MARKERS! Somebody thinks my child is old enough to be using slim markers, and not just the big chunky kind. It took an entire day before I could even walk past the supply list without getting misty-eyed.
I'd better toughen up, because eventually we are going to have to go shopping for these supplies. I don't want to be sobbing at Target when I place the slim markers in the cart. Cleanup on Aisle 5!
It was the 'roids
Since we didn't know if my lung infection was viral or "other," my doctor put me on both an antibiotic and a steroid. I felt increasingly better each day, but I didn't know which drug to thank for the improvement.
Now we know. I continued the antibiotic, but, per my doctor's orders, phased out the Prednisone on Thursday. I crashed on Friday.
I've had difficulty breathing since Friday afternoon. I can take no more than 50 steps before collapsing. I "black out" after taking about ten steps, so I apparently am having trouble getting oxygen to the brain. I try to stay calm while I talk because I start hyperventilating if I get too excited. My temperature has risen to 101 for the last two nights.
If I had known this was going to happen, I would not have made the trip to SF. I'm so grateful that my friend Kiki was with me. She waited on me and made my life easier by dropping me off and picking me up (at the VA, hotel, restaurants, etc.) so that I never had to walk far. She's a very nurturing friend.
I have a couple of theories about what's going on with my lungs, the whacky eosinophils and my GI symptoms. It seems clear to me that it's all related, but I'll discuss this with Dr. Forman this afternoon.
I have appointments for a chest x-ray, blood draw and consultation with Dr. Forman this afternoon. I'll keep you posted.
Now we know. I continued the antibiotic, but, per my doctor's orders, phased out the Prednisone on Thursday. I crashed on Friday.
I've had difficulty breathing since Friday afternoon. I can take no more than 50 steps before collapsing. I "black out" after taking about ten steps, so I apparently am having trouble getting oxygen to the brain. I try to stay calm while I talk because I start hyperventilating if I get too excited. My temperature has risen to 101 for the last two nights.
If I had known this was going to happen, I would not have made the trip to SF. I'm so grateful that my friend Kiki was with me. She waited on me and made my life easier by dropping me off and picking me up (at the VA, hotel, restaurants, etc.) so that I never had to walk far. She's a very nurturing friend.
I have a couple of theories about what's going on with my lungs, the whacky eosinophils and my GI symptoms. It seems clear to me that it's all related, but I'll discuss this with Dr. Forman this afternoon.
I have appointments for a chest x-ray, blood draw and consultation with Dr. Forman this afternoon. I'll keep you posted.
Sunday, July 27, 2008
BEER OF THE MONTH CLUB:AUGUST
ATTENTION BEER OF THE MONTH CLUB MEMBERS!
If you haven't heard already, Beer of the Month for August is now available for in-store pickup. This month's selections are:
1. DRIE FONTINEN SCHAERBEEKSE KRIEK-a limited release lambic using only the finest cherries of the Schaerbeek region.
2. BRASSERIE ELLEZELLOISE LA BIERE DES COLLINES SAISIS-artisinal witbier made in small batches
Anyone who wishes to join Beer of the Month Club can inquire through the blog, or drop by the store during our regular hours. Or you can call us at 415--255-0610.
Cheers!
dave
Saturday, July 26, 2008
I need a home!
If anyone in the Los Angeles area is interested in adopting Nelly, please email me at susancarrier@sbcglobal.net and I will provide contact information for Nelly's care takers.
Summer, Slithery Dee, stuck, smiley
WCK and I have been having lots of fun summer days. Sometimes I feel like I'm re-living the summers from my childhood. We've been playing in the wading pool, "helping" Jay grill, bringing home stacks of books for the library's summer reading program, riding trikes with friends, and going to the "real" pool. (Yes, we actually made it to Splash 'n Play TWICE this week, so I think I've officially made up for the two big Splash 'n Play disappointments earlier in the summer.) The only thing missing is Kool Aid and/or homemade popsicles. I bought the Kool Aid, but I worry a little about combining WCK and red liquid. We'll do it as soon as I work up the courage.
On Thursday, WCK and I went to a puppet show at the library. It was at a library that's further away from our house than our "regular" library, but the Puppet Show Lady absolutely cracks me up, so I'm willing to drive a little farther when she is performing. She's an older lady who looks exactly like my Great-Grandma Nina. She always performs a puppet show that has a storyline, and then she brings out two frog puppets who tell really bad (in this case "bad" means "good") knock-knock jokes. (Knock, knock. Who's there? Little old lady. Little old lady who? I didn't know you could yodel!)
WCK and I just crack up.
At the end of the show, one of the frogs always recites "Slithery Dee." My dad used to sing me "Slithery Dee" all the time when I was little. Maybe this explains why I'm not quite right; I don't know, but I love "Slithery Dee." I didn't know anybody else even knew "Slithery Dee" until the Puppet Show Lady entered our lives. It goes like this:
Oh, Slithery Dee, he crawled out of the sea
He ate all the others, but he won't eat me
No, he won't eat me, ol' Slithery Dee
He may catch all the others, but--
(BIG SLURPING, CHOMPING SOUND)
I've gotten way off topic.
After the puppet show, I decided to stop at a nearby Wal-Mart for a few things we needed. It is not a super Wal-Mart, so it is even LESS CLASSY than the Wal-Mart right by our house, which I didn't think was possible. I put WCK in the cart, buckled the little seat belt, bought our stuff, and went back to the car. And then ... I could NOT get the seat belt unbuckled. WCK was trapped in the Wal-Mart cart. I struggled with it for a few minutes, and WCK started to panic and scream, "GET ME OUT!! GET ME OUT!!" Maybe she had visions of having to spend the rest of her life in a Wal-Mart cart. Maybe we would have to live at Wal-Mart. That thought would make me scream, too.
As we struggled, an SUV slowed to a stop nearby. The driver looked like a nice young mom. "Ah," I thought, "someone is stopping to help us." Turns out she just wanted our parking spot. When she saw that we were going to be there for a while, because my screaming child was obviously permanently tied to a shopping cart, she moved on. Thank you, fellow Wal-Mart patron!
Finally, I decided to go back into the store to see if the employees could help us. I expected them to be surprised, but they acted completely un-surprised and bored, as though small children are getting trapped in the shopping carts ALL DAY LONG.
"Oh, yeah," said the Wal-Mart Lady, "I have some scissors right here."
One snip, and WCK was free. She was ecstatic. She keeps talking about the Wal-Mart ladies and how they helped her. As we walked back to the car, she asked, "Can we go back and say thank-you again? Can we go back and say thank-you again?"
That's sweet, but a brand-new Target opens right by our house tomorrow. God willing, I never have to set foot in a Wal-Mart again.
Final topic: WCK and I made scrambled eggs for breakfast this morning, and we both noticed that the cracked eggs formed a smiley face. What do you think?
On Thursday, WCK and I went to a puppet show at the library. It was at a library that's further away from our house than our "regular" library, but the Puppet Show Lady absolutely cracks me up, so I'm willing to drive a little farther when she is performing. She's an older lady who looks exactly like my Great-Grandma Nina. She always performs a puppet show that has a storyline, and then she brings out two frog puppets who tell really bad (in this case "bad" means "good") knock-knock jokes. (Knock, knock. Who's there? Little old lady. Little old lady who? I didn't know you could yodel!)
WCK and I just crack up.
At the end of the show, one of the frogs always recites "Slithery Dee." My dad used to sing me "Slithery Dee" all the time when I was little. Maybe this explains why I'm not quite right; I don't know, but I love "Slithery Dee." I didn't know anybody else even knew "Slithery Dee" until the Puppet Show Lady entered our lives. It goes like this:
Oh, Slithery Dee, he crawled out of the sea
He ate all the others, but he won't eat me
No, he won't eat me, ol' Slithery Dee
He may catch all the others, but--
(BIG SLURPING, CHOMPING SOUND)
I've gotten way off topic.
After the puppet show, I decided to stop at a nearby Wal-Mart for a few things we needed. It is not a super Wal-Mart, so it is even LESS CLASSY than the Wal-Mart right by our house, which I didn't think was possible. I put WCK in the cart, buckled the little seat belt, bought our stuff, and went back to the car. And then ... I could NOT get the seat belt unbuckled. WCK was trapped in the Wal-Mart cart. I struggled with it for a few minutes, and WCK started to panic and scream, "GET ME OUT!! GET ME OUT!!" Maybe she had visions of having to spend the rest of her life in a Wal-Mart cart. Maybe we would have to live at Wal-Mart. That thought would make me scream, too.
As we struggled, an SUV slowed to a stop nearby. The driver looked like a nice young mom. "Ah," I thought, "someone is stopping to help us." Turns out she just wanted our parking spot. When she saw that we were going to be there for a while, because my screaming child was obviously permanently tied to a shopping cart, she moved on. Thank you, fellow Wal-Mart patron!
Finally, I decided to go back into the store to see if the employees could help us. I expected them to be surprised, but they acted completely un-surprised and bored, as though small children are getting trapped in the shopping carts ALL DAY LONG.
"Oh, yeah," said the Wal-Mart Lady, "I have some scissors right here."
One snip, and WCK was free. She was ecstatic. She keeps talking about the Wal-Mart ladies and how they helped her. As we walked back to the car, she asked, "Can we go back and say thank-you again? Can we go back and say thank-you again?"
That's sweet, but a brand-new Target opens right by our house tomorrow. God willing, I never have to set foot in a Wal-Mart again.
Final topic: WCK and I made scrambled eggs for breakfast this morning, and we both noticed that the cracked eggs formed a smiley face. What do you think?
Tour of texas
I ain’t gona ask no stinking directions, I studied the map and memorized three routes to get to our destination (shortest route, quickest route, and the least traveled route) like I always do and have always done. Our destination moved, seems like NRH2O has moved and they forgot to tell me and everyone else in N. Texas about the move, I was right they were wrong. Oh well we didn’t get to play in the water yesterday, but it is probably for the best as there is some virus in the public water parks in the DFW area right now. Since the water park moved we toured North Texas yesterday or until I could not take the nagging and seat kicking anymore (ice cream solves all problems…).
I am out of the dog house since it is not my fault that NRH2O moved, we will take another tour of Texas and hopefully find the park in August when Dora the Explorer is there.
It is Hanna Montana night tonight in 3D, I can’t seem to get these Hanna Montana songs out of my head, and I really shouldn’t know who the Johnas Brothers are …
Still feeling a little scratchy in the throat I will have to see what the results of the nasal wash are that I had done yesterday.
I am out of the dog house since it is not my fault that NRH2O moved, we will take another tour of Texas and hopefully find the park in August when Dora the Explorer is there.
It is Hanna Montana night tonight in 3D, I can’t seem to get these Hanna Montana songs out of my head, and I really shouldn’t know who the Johnas Brothers are …
Still feeling a little scratchy in the throat I will have to see what the results of the nasal wash are that I had done yesterday.
Friday, July 25, 2008
Randy Pausch's Death
I'm sorry I have been off-line so long....I vacationed with my husband and children in Wisconsin (the Dells.....and I got stuck in "quicksand" at the bottom of the old Lake Delton and was chased by a Pit Bull on a rampage...wondered for a moment if I had survived cancer to drown in quicksand or to be mauled by a Pit Bull!). But we had a great time. Since being back I have been working a lot of hours so am behind on almost everything...including my blog.
Usually something happens in my life that motivates me to write in my blog. This time it was discovering that Randy Pausch, of the The Last Lecture, had died of pancreatic cancer. It was a shock to discover that....though as a nurse I understood the medical implications of his disease and knew he had been in hospice and would die soon. But still....
Somehow it had seemed that if the world was right and if there was justice and miracles and fairness, he would have survived his cancer. That he would be doing push ups on video again over and over, that he would be THE SURVIVOR of his cancer against all odds. It just seemed that would be right. He looked healthy on video, he had young kids, he was a good person, he made a difference, he took care of his body. He deserved to live, didn't he?
Wouldn't his survival against all odds have been the ultimate happy ending we all want to tuck in our pockets to reach for when we need something to believe in, when we need hope? Wouldn't his survival have been good reason to have faith in justice and hope and goodness? Wouldn't it have just been RIGHT for him to have survived? For him to have been the person who publicly said he had a terminal diagnosis but to have then defied the odds as an example for all others who came after him with no known hope of defeating their cancer?
But he didn't live. He did, as he said he would, succumb to his disease. His wife did become, as he told Congress she would become, his widow. His children have no father. They are so young they may not even remember interacting with him when they are adults. They will probably only know him through photos and videos.
Cancer claims its victims without regards to fairness or justice or rightness. Cancer is a thief that steals from us and leaves grief in it's wake. I know of two other mothers of young children who were good people, and who like Randy Pausch, have recently involuntarily abandoned their children.
It is wrong. It is unfair. It is an injustice.
We need as a society to band together and do something about it. We need a grass roots movement that demands support of research to end the agony and waste and hurt this disease causes all of us at one point or another.
We need the Stand Up to Cancer movement. We need to see the beginning of the end of cancer. We need to believe it can happen, that cancer can be beaten.
Randy was asked a question by a fan after appearing on a TV interview. The questions was: "If you could ask a question to your lecture audience and Web site audience 30 years from now, what would it be? -- Christian, Sydney, Australia"
He answered: "Have you found a way to bring me back? How are the cyber implants going? Dang it, have you cured cancer?"
I purchased a bunch of the SU2C buttons to give out, I became part of The Stand and donated via my cell phone (text STAND to 40202 and $5.00 will be donated to SU2C with the amount added to your cell phone bill). I'll donate in honor of all those I've met with appendix cancer (over 400) on Sept. 5th. I'm telling everyone I work with about SU2C. My daughter and I bought SU2C tote bags and t-shirts to help give visibility to the movement. I have also written many letters now to government officials asking for funding for cancer research and was recently asked to speak to someone in my senator's office. Randy Pausch has a star in the SU2C constellation. I was privileged today to be the 3rd contributor to his star.
I very much want to say one day that I played a part, however small, in ending the pain cancer causes.
I want to Stand Up To Cancer. I want to see cancer defeated.
Usually something happens in my life that motivates me to write in my blog. This time it was discovering that Randy Pausch, of the The Last Lecture, had died of pancreatic cancer. It was a shock to discover that....though as a nurse I understood the medical implications of his disease and knew he had been in hospice and would die soon. But still....
Somehow it had seemed that if the world was right and if there was justice and miracles and fairness, he would have survived his cancer. That he would be doing push ups on video again over and over, that he would be THE SURVIVOR of his cancer against all odds. It just seemed that would be right. He looked healthy on video, he had young kids, he was a good person, he made a difference, he took care of his body. He deserved to live, didn't he?
Wouldn't his survival against all odds have been the ultimate happy ending we all want to tuck in our pockets to reach for when we need something to believe in, when we need hope? Wouldn't his survival have been good reason to have faith in justice and hope and goodness? Wouldn't it have just been RIGHT for him to have survived? For him to have been the person who publicly said he had a terminal diagnosis but to have then defied the odds as an example for all others who came after him with no known hope of defeating their cancer?
But he didn't live. He did, as he said he would, succumb to his disease. His wife did become, as he told Congress she would become, his widow. His children have no father. They are so young they may not even remember interacting with him when they are adults. They will probably only know him through photos and videos.
Cancer claims its victims without regards to fairness or justice or rightness. Cancer is a thief that steals from us and leaves grief in it's wake. I know of two other mothers of young children who were good people, and who like Randy Pausch, have recently involuntarily abandoned their children.
It is wrong. It is unfair. It is an injustice.
We need as a society to band together and do something about it. We need a grass roots movement that demands support of research to end the agony and waste and hurt this disease causes all of us at one point or another.
We need the Stand Up to Cancer movement. We need to see the beginning of the end of cancer. We need to believe it can happen, that cancer can be beaten.
Randy was asked a question by a fan after appearing on a TV interview. The questions was: "If you could ask a question to your lecture audience and Web site audience 30 years from now, what would it be? -- Christian, Sydney, Australia"
He answered: "Have you found a way to bring me back? How are the cyber implants going? Dang it, have you cured cancer?"
I purchased a bunch of the SU2C buttons to give out, I became part of The Stand and donated via my cell phone (text STAND to 40202 and $5.00 will be donated to SU2C with the amount added to your cell phone bill). I'll donate in honor of all those I've met with appendix cancer (over 400) on Sept. 5th. I'm telling everyone I work with about SU2C. My daughter and I bought SU2C tote bags and t-shirts to help give visibility to the movement. I have also written many letters now to government officials asking for funding for cancer research and was recently asked to speak to someone in my senator's office. Randy Pausch has a star in the SU2C constellation. I was privileged today to be the 3rd contributor to his star.
I very much want to say one day that I played a part, however small, in ending the pain cancer causes.
I want to Stand Up To Cancer. I want to see cancer defeated.
Hurrah! Hurrah!
My latest M-spike is ... 1.5!
Woo! Last month it was 1.7, so it went down even with the lower doses of Revlimid and dex. With numbers like these, I'm sure I'll be able to try stopping the dex in four weeks.
"You must be doing something right," said the nurse.
Hmm. Maybe those giant Minnesota mosquitoes sucked the cancer right out of me.
Woo! Last month it was 1.7, so it went down even with the lower doses of Revlimid and dex. With numbers like these, I'm sure I'll be able to try stopping the dex in four weeks.
"You must be doing something right," said the nurse.
Hmm. Maybe those giant Minnesota mosquitoes sucked the cancer right out of me.
amazing encounters (part 1)
I met Grover! Sesame Street had a suite at the hotel that was hosting the BlogHer conference. They were promoting their new web site, which my son loves. The real Grover and the real Abby (she came after my Sesame Street time but she's really nice) were present and anyone who signed up could take home a DVD of herself on Sesame Street!The atmosphere in the room was absolutely giddy. And I lost count of the number of moms who laughed as they insisted, "I'm telling them that I'm doing this for my kids."
Which is exactly why I did it. I swear.
I have to say that I am struck by this photo. Can you tell how happy I was right at that moment? Seriously, meeting Grover turned me into a giggling groupie.
I need to tell you all about two other amazing folks I met when I was in San Francisco. And neither had anything to do with blogging or the conference.
I arrived in SF on Wednesday evening. I didn't have my first meeting (an orientation for BlogHer speakers) until 3pm on Thursday, so I spent the earlier part of that day playing tourist.
On my walk back from North Beach to the hotel, my eye was caught by a store with some funky looking clothes and purses in the window. I am really not much of a shopper but there was something about this place that just spoke to me. Inside, I met Megan the designer, who was working away at her table as I browsed.
I tried on a gorgeous jacket (which looked great on me. The online photo doesn't do it justice. And the in store price was cheaper, too) and decided to justify it as a birthday present to myself (August 4th is not that far away...).
Martha and I chatted away as I browsed. Now, I have no idea how this came up but at some point she mentioned menopause. I told her that I had gone through menopause at 38, due to chemotherapy (not the kind of thing I generally tell a complete stranger).
Then Martha told me that she has had Stage 4 thyroid cancer that she has been living and working with for many years (I not absolutely certain about the thyroid or the number of years. I was just so stunned by this revelation).
I told her that I am Stage 4, too.
We hugged. And we looked at each other, a little in awe.
You wouldn't guess that either of us had cancer. We both look pretty damn healthy. Better than healthy.
I floated out of the store, so buoyed was I from this encounter.
And I will always think of Martha, hope and inspiration when I wear my beautiful jacket.
I'll tell you about another amazing encounter tomorrow.
A Quick Update
Not much new to report, but I thought I'd do a quick update before leaving for SF with Kiki:
- Bob is spiraling down, but is hanging in.
- Puss and Betty (our dog) can sit on a couch together, incident free, as long as I'm in the middle.
- I'm feeling stronger and less fatigued every day.
- I'll have another chest x-ray, blood draw and appt. with Dr. Forman on Monday.
And I just wanted to give a big thank you to Cynthia, who brought me dinner in bed when I was feeling at my worst. The menu, which included her favorite beef ramen noodles, may not have been the most nutritious, but the presentation (very important to me) was perfect and the love priceless!
- Bob is spiraling down, but is hanging in.
- Puss and Betty (our dog) can sit on a couch together, incident free, as long as I'm in the middle.
- I'm feeling stronger and less fatigued every day.
- I'll have another chest x-ray, blood draw and appt. with Dr. Forman on Monday.
And I just wanted to give a big thank you to Cynthia, who brought me dinner in bed when I was feeling at my worst. The menu, which included her favorite beef ramen noodles, may not have been the most nutritious, but the presentation (very important to me) was perfect and the love priceless!
Thursday, July 24, 2008
On the Bus...
...the woman said, Do you think Pastoral has gift certificates?
(Pastoral is a fancy cheese store in Lakeview and downtown. We're talking aged, aged gouda that's so hard it's crystalline. And sweet. And expensive.)
The man said, The Cook County jail at this point has gift certificates.
After a time, the woman said: And there's no expiration date.
(Pastoral is a fancy cheese store in Lakeview and downtown. We're talking aged, aged gouda that's so hard it's crystalline. And sweet. And expensive.)
The man said, The Cook County jail at this point has gift certificates.
After a time, the woman said: And there's no expiration date.
safe, sound, happy and tired
I had a wonderful time at BlogHer '08.
I had chemo the day after my return, though and am still recovering. Some longer posts are owed to you all very soon.
Meanwhile, here is a pic of me, BlogHer co-founder Lisa Stone and wonderful Babz (Babz and I, who had never met in person, took to each other like two old friends).
I had to snag this photo from Babz, since I took exactly one photo all week end. It's of me and an international celebrity and I will post that tomorrow.
I had chemo the day after my return, though and am still recovering. Some longer posts are owed to you all very soon.
Meanwhile, here is a pic of me, BlogHer co-founder Lisa Stone and wonderful Babz (Babz and I, who had never met in person, took to each other like two old friends).
I had to snag this photo from Babz, since I took exactly one photo all week end. It's of me and an international celebrity and I will post that tomorrow.
Still can't do the mask
I still can't wear the sleep mask, I might try again in a few days, right now I have to figure out if I am coming down with something as my throat fills scratchy (I will have to go to my stash of antibiotics). Lately I have been coughing up a little bit more crude than usual I have to go to the lab and produce a nasal wash specimen so we can find out what is going on with the throat and stuff I am coughing up.
You know I am just going to have to wear my mask MORE even though kids say the darnedest things and ADULTS say the DUMBEST things.
The more push-up I do the bigger my chest gets, which under normal circumstances would be a good thing but with all the scar tissue and the masses on both chest it speaks to body image conscious problems. I have figured out a way to surpass my goals of 15 miles per week and 500 push-ups I just walk a mile and a half 3 times per week at lunch and do 100 push-ups each day I walk at lunch and my goal will be easily reached along with the night time work outs.
You know I am just going to have to wear my mask MORE even though kids say the darnedest things and ADULTS say the DUMBEST things.
The more push-up I do the bigger my chest gets, which under normal circumstances would be a good thing but with all the scar tissue and the masses on both chest it speaks to body image conscious problems. I have figured out a way to surpass my goals of 15 miles per week and 500 push-ups I just walk a mile and a half 3 times per week at lunch and do 100 push-ups each day I walk at lunch and my goal will be easily reached along with the night time work outs.
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
Pink Eye Again
What the Heck. Pink Eye has struck again at the day care and I am scared as heck to drop the girls off or even pick them up for that matter. Where is my Has mat suit. I have started carrying some wipes and a container of waterless foaming soap into the daycare with me everyone has to wash their hands before getting in the truck to go home, I am also schooling the girls on the 2 and a half minute rule. Daddy has 2 and a half minutes that he is willing to stay in the daycare so get your stuff and lets go home to stay out of the Spa (hospital) I have to drop off and pick the girls up from daycare using the drive by technique.
This is a bad summer for all daycare facilities as we had a very Pink Eye, Strep throat and other things, I hope we get some cold weather this year.
This is a bad summer for all daycare facilities as we had a very Pink Eye, Strep throat and other things, I hope we get some cold weather this year.
If I only had a brain
WCK has created a "scarecrow costume" for herself. The scarecrow costume consists of an old baby bib with little purple hearts on it, which she wears around her neck, and an old washcloth, which she wears on her head. The bib is her "scarecrow dress" and the washcloth is her "brain". She wears it all day long, and sometimes wears it to bed.
If you have any follow-up questions, such as, "Where did she get the idea for the scarecrow costume?" or "What does it mean?" I cannot help you. I have no explanation for the scarecrow costume. I've simply learned to accept the scarecrow costume as an important part of our lives now.
Most mornings, she wakes up searching for the scarecrow costume, exclaiming, "WHERE'S MY BRAIN?" To be honest, I usually ask this question of myself when I first wake up, too.
Thanks to the scarecrow costume, conversations around our house sound even sillier than they normally do. Just this morning, you could have overheard, "Mommy, my brain is falling off!" and "If you don't sit down and put on your shoes right this minute, I am taking your brain away for the rest of the day!"
If you have any follow-up questions, such as, "Where did she get the idea for the scarecrow costume?" or "What does it mean?" I cannot help you. I have no explanation for the scarecrow costume. I've simply learned to accept the scarecrow costume as an important part of our lives now.
Most mornings, she wakes up searching for the scarecrow costume, exclaiming, "WHERE'S MY BRAIN?" To be honest, I usually ask this question of myself when I first wake up, too.
Thanks to the scarecrow costume, conversations around our house sound even sillier than they normally do. Just this morning, you could have overheard, "Mommy, my brain is falling off!" and "If you don't sit down and put on your shoes right this minute, I am taking your brain away for the rest of the day!"
Monday, July 21, 2008
Sis Boom Bah! Fighting Cancer Can Be Fun!
Cancer Bitch is trying to figure out what she thinks about a new initiative, Stand Up to Cancer, which has all the hallmarks of everything she's suspicious of in Cancerland: big names (Sarah Jessica Parker, Katie Couric, Lance Armstrong), big sports (major league baseball, making her think about "pink washing," the cleaning up of team/corporate images by association with breast cancer), a telethon (on all three networks at once! just like newscasts in totalitarian countries), a buffet of not-healthful food (hot dogs, white buns, roast beef, Caesar salad, potato chips) served on plastic (plates, with drinks from an open bar served in plastic cups). But she is getting ahead of herself. Just where were these free hot dogs and drinks, and how can I get some? you may be asking. Alas, you're too late. Cancer Bitch found herself yesterday in what is called in Houston a sky box and may be called that here, too--a restauranty room in U.S. Cellular Field, where the White Sox play, where muckety-mucks and their guests can sit in air-conditioned comfort or venture out to a patio and watch the game from chairs pretty close to the field. (Which part of the field was the box was closest to? The green part.)
Cancer Bitch was invited because she has this blog and apparently someone doing PR for Stand Up to Cancer put two and two together (or rather, cancer and Chicago and blog together in a Google search) and thought CB might like to be a "fly on the wall" before a taping of a TV segment (for the marathon) featuring Lance Armstrong. CB was inclined to pass on this but her husband said she should go, and she did, though not before getting caught in Sox traffic (She knew the event was taking place at the stadium, but thought it was going to be when there wasn't a game; maybe Armstrong was going to ride his bike around the field, a notion she got probably from having in the back of her mind the famous Velodome d'Hiver roundup on July 16, 1942, in which Jews were taken from their homes and stashed, in horrifying conditions, into the cycling stadium, then sent to concentration camps.). So she arrived late into this very large and very beige shopping-mall like stadium complex, very different from her neighborhood Wrigley Field. Cellular Field was sea after sea of parking lots (she paid $22 to park, O irony of ironies, she who has charged $20 and more to Cubs fans), and uniformed parking lot attendants with holstered guns and golf-carts, and families tail-gating--sitting in their fold-out chairs around little grills, or standing and playing corn-hole, and smoking cigarettes and drinking beer before the game. They had to provide their own, partly because there weren't a mass of bars all around the field, as in anarchic Wrigleyville. This was a Compound. With gates all around the lots, providing a barrier between the field and the nearby apartments.
CB arrived late and so was a fly on the patio looking down at the field pre-game as Armstrong and Elizabeth Edwards filmed (three times) their spiels, each shown on the big screen by the field, each taping accompanied by 20 seconds of fans' applause. Armstrong said the number of Americans dying of cancer equals the equivalent of the number killed on 9/11 every two days. Roughly one in two men and one in three women will get cancer some time, he said, statistics which Cancer Bitch doubted until she saw them verified later on the American Cancer Society web site. To illustrate the stats, he had every other fan stand up while the others sat down. Elizabeth Edwards was standing next to him, wearing a yellow t-shirt that said Survivor on it, under a bright blue (Cubs' blue) blazer. She said: People sitting to the left and to your right are your mother, your father, your brother, your sister, your husband, your wife, your best friend or your child. She said this three times and still Cancer Bitch didn't fully discern her meaning; she guesses that Edwards was saying that even if you aren't struck by cancer, it will strike someone close to you.
One of the people out on the field was Randy Marzouk, 10, of Buffalo Grove, wearing an oversized Kenarko shirt. He was diagnosed with neuroblastoma when he was two-and-a-half. His father was with him and his mother Michelle was outside the fancy skybox. She and her husband work with Little Heroes, which raises money to treat neuroblastoma patients at Children's Memorial and Comer Children's hospitals. She said the Stand Up group was making people aware of all the cancers. Cancer Bitch asked her if she thought the effort would help her son and she said maybe, that she wants to find out more about the group but, It's probably a good group or it wouldn't hav epeople like Lance Armstrong or Elizabeth Edwards backing them. It's not like they have a lot of spare time. Randy underwent 20 rounds of chemo, three stem cell implants, three weeks of radiation and hundreds of blood and platelet transfusions.
Soon it was time for the press conference, with Armstrong, who did not look familiar to Cancer Bitch--he reminded her of a Ken doll with pale lips--, Elizabeth Edwards, telethon producer and survivor Laura Ziskin, and on either side, two cancer doctors. The three in the middle explained that Stand Up was funding research not just to the usual suspects, but to innovative scientists, and to researchers working in dream teams across disciplines to apply their research quickly to treatment. The American Association for Cancer Research will administer the funds. Amid all the softball questions, Cancer Bitch asked (moderately articulately, and feeling like a Trotskyite at a democratic left conference; the Trots are notorious for asking long questions that are really policy statements) about research on the environment and cancer, and what about the use of plastics in stadiums? Ziskin said that all baseball stadiums were going through a "greening process," working with the Natural Resources Defense Council. She said Stand Up chose Cellular for the taping of the opener of the telethon because Sox owner Jerry Reinsdorf was an early backer of the program and brought Baseball Commissioner Bud Selig on board.
Cancer Bitch left before the seventh inning, during which another short program was planned, which would urge fans to text on the phones in order to donate $5 to Stand Up. (Do good without even moving from your seat! Hey vendor, another one with mustard!)
Stand Up has produced an oversized post card featuring a photo of a Cincinnati Reds star (Ken Griffey, Jr. Stands Up to Cancer. What does that mean?) and the words: We have the technology. The brilliance. What we need is you. As if the reader of the post card was water and technology and brilliance were the powder. Doesn't technology + brilliance imply that we have the cure? That it's around there somewhere, misplaced in a lab underneath a dusty beaker, hidden by government red-tape and obscured by turf battles--and all we need are citizens to roust it out? On the back of the post card: Cancer finds us in our neighborhoods and our cities. Our countrysides and our schools. But it's a disease we need to seek out and destroy. It doesn't take a Susan Sontag to see that Stand Up has taken up the language of anti-terrorism. Those with long memories may think, also, of McCarthyism, which warned us that Communism, in the form of teachers' unions, had infiltrated our schools, and in the form of liberals, poisoned our Congress and neighborhood associations. Stand Up to Cancer doesn't investigate which neighborhoods are more likely to harbor cancer, either due to neighborhood gullibility (This waste dump won't hurt you.) or environmental racism, or both, or which schools, due to lead chips or asbestos or other products of homo faber. But, to be fair, there's an op-ed on its site by Devra Davis, about cancer and toxins. Davis directs the Center for Environmental Oncology at the University of Pittsburgh Cancer Institute and author of the recent Secret History of the War on Cancer.
So, Cancer Bitch, what's wrong with cancer researchers getting money? Today she had a brief appointment with a physician's assistant at Fancy Hospital. He removed the drain sticking out of the lipoma incision and she asked if he'd heard of Stand Up. He said he'd seen something on TV about it. She said it was supposed to form the "dream teams" of researchers working together. As opposed to what? he asked.
Last night CB dreamed of her friend A, whom she hasn't seen in years. A had a sweet round face, blond hair and blue eyes, a soft voice, and investigative reporting that brought down a big-city mayor. Cancer Bitch dreamed that they were interviewing Elizabeth Edwards and that A asked her about her spinal fluid, and Edwards said that it helped when people rubbed it, and there was her spinal fluid in a plastic tub, and CB felt some empathy and got a lump in her throat. And then she woke up.
Cancer Bitch was invited because she has this blog and apparently someone doing PR for Stand Up to Cancer put two and two together (or rather, cancer and Chicago and blog together in a Google search) and thought CB might like to be a "fly on the wall" before a taping of a TV segment (for the marathon) featuring Lance Armstrong. CB was inclined to pass on this but her husband said she should go, and she did, though not before getting caught in Sox traffic (She knew the event was taking place at the stadium, but thought it was going to be when there wasn't a game; maybe Armstrong was going to ride his bike around the field, a notion she got probably from having in the back of her mind the famous Velodome d'Hiver roundup on July 16, 1942, in which Jews were taken from their homes and stashed, in horrifying conditions, into the cycling stadium, then sent to concentration camps.). So she arrived late into this very large and very beige shopping-mall like stadium complex, very different from her neighborhood Wrigley Field. Cellular Field was sea after sea of parking lots (she paid $22 to park, O irony of ironies, she who has charged $20 and more to Cubs fans), and uniformed parking lot attendants with holstered guns and golf-carts, and families tail-gating--sitting in their fold-out chairs around little grills, or standing and playing corn-hole, and smoking cigarettes and drinking beer before the game. They had to provide their own, partly because there weren't a mass of bars all around the field, as in anarchic Wrigleyville. This was a Compound. With gates all around the lots, providing a barrier between the field and the nearby apartments.
CB arrived late and so was a fly on the patio looking down at the field pre-game as Armstrong and Elizabeth Edwards filmed (three times) their spiels, each shown on the big screen by the field, each taping accompanied by 20 seconds of fans' applause. Armstrong said the number of Americans dying of cancer equals the equivalent of the number killed on 9/11 every two days. Roughly one in two men and one in three women will get cancer some time, he said, statistics which Cancer Bitch doubted until she saw them verified later on the American Cancer Society web site. To illustrate the stats, he had every other fan stand up while the others sat down. Elizabeth Edwards was standing next to him, wearing a yellow t-shirt that said Survivor on it, under a bright blue (Cubs' blue) blazer. She said: People sitting to the left and to your right are your mother, your father, your brother, your sister, your husband, your wife, your best friend or your child. She said this three times and still Cancer Bitch didn't fully discern her meaning; she guesses that Edwards was saying that even if you aren't struck by cancer, it will strike someone close to you.
One of the people out on the field was Randy Marzouk, 10, of Buffalo Grove, wearing an oversized Kenarko shirt. He was diagnosed with neuroblastoma when he was two-and-a-half. His father was with him and his mother Michelle was outside the fancy skybox. She and her husband work with Little Heroes, which raises money to treat neuroblastoma patients at Children's Memorial and Comer Children's hospitals. She said the Stand Up group was making people aware of all the cancers. Cancer Bitch asked her if she thought the effort would help her son and she said maybe, that she wants to find out more about the group but, It's probably a good group or it wouldn't hav epeople like Lance Armstrong or Elizabeth Edwards backing them. It's not like they have a lot of spare time. Randy underwent 20 rounds of chemo, three stem cell implants, three weeks of radiation and hundreds of blood and platelet transfusions.
Soon it was time for the press conference, with Armstrong, who did not look familiar to Cancer Bitch--he reminded her of a Ken doll with pale lips--, Elizabeth Edwards, telethon producer and survivor Laura Ziskin, and on either side, two cancer doctors. The three in the middle explained that Stand Up was funding research not just to the usual suspects, but to innovative scientists, and to researchers working in dream teams across disciplines to apply their research quickly to treatment. The American Association for Cancer Research will administer the funds. Amid all the softball questions, Cancer Bitch asked (moderately articulately, and feeling like a Trotskyite at a democratic left conference; the Trots are notorious for asking long questions that are really policy statements) about research on the environment and cancer, and what about the use of plastics in stadiums? Ziskin said that all baseball stadiums were going through a "greening process," working with the Natural Resources Defense Council. She said Stand Up chose Cellular for the taping of the opener of the telethon because Sox owner Jerry Reinsdorf was an early backer of the program and brought Baseball Commissioner Bud Selig on board.
Cancer Bitch left before the seventh inning, during which another short program was planned, which would urge fans to text on the phones in order to donate $5 to Stand Up. (Do good without even moving from your seat! Hey vendor, another one with mustard!)
Stand Up has produced an oversized post card featuring a photo of a Cincinnati Reds star (Ken Griffey, Jr. Stands Up to Cancer. What does that mean?) and the words: We have the technology. The brilliance. What we need is you. As if the reader of the post card was water and technology and brilliance were the powder. Doesn't technology + brilliance imply that we have the cure? That it's around there somewhere, misplaced in a lab underneath a dusty beaker, hidden by government red-tape and obscured by turf battles--and all we need are citizens to roust it out? On the back of the post card: Cancer finds us in our neighborhoods and our cities. Our countrysides and our schools. But it's a disease we need to seek out and destroy. It doesn't take a Susan Sontag to see that Stand Up has taken up the language of anti-terrorism. Those with long memories may think, also, of McCarthyism, which warned us that Communism, in the form of teachers' unions, had infiltrated our schools, and in the form of liberals, poisoned our Congress and neighborhood associations. Stand Up to Cancer doesn't investigate which neighborhoods are more likely to harbor cancer, either due to neighborhood gullibility (This waste dump won't hurt you.) or environmental racism, or both, or which schools, due to lead chips or asbestos or other products of homo faber. But, to be fair, there's an op-ed on its site by Devra Davis, about cancer and toxins. Davis directs the Center for Environmental Oncology at the University of Pittsburgh Cancer Institute and author of the recent Secret History of the War on Cancer.
So, Cancer Bitch, what's wrong with cancer researchers getting money? Today she had a brief appointment with a physician's assistant at Fancy Hospital. He removed the drain sticking out of the lipoma incision and she asked if he'd heard of Stand Up. He said he'd seen something on TV about it. She said it was supposed to form the "dream teams" of researchers working together. As opposed to what? he asked.
Last night CB dreamed of her friend A, whom she hasn't seen in years. A had a sweet round face, blond hair and blue eyes, a soft voice, and investigative reporting that brought down a big-city mayor. Cancer Bitch dreamed that they were interviewing Elizabeth Edwards and that A asked her about her spinal fluid, and Edwards said that it helped when people rubbed it, and there was her spinal fluid in a plastic tub, and CB felt some empathy and got a lump in her throat. And then she woke up.
DELI - Fresh New Menu!
As of 7/21/08 We are discontinuing our old menu in favor of a healthy, house made and uniquely inspired Menu, with a range of flavours and prices.
(Though if you ask very nicely and we still have some of the old Menu ingredients , they might be able to be made)
All Our sandwiches will be made on locally baked and daily delivered White or Wheat Hamati Pita Bread.
The ingredients you might not be familiar with:
Lebani : A slightly sour, salty, soft white cheese from cows milk, fermented in olive oil and pressed by hand in our kitchen.
Taziki : A tangy refreshing yogurt sauce with cucumbers and parsley, prepared in store.
Dagga : A spicy tomato sauce with fresh tomatoes, onions, jalapenos, zatar and olive oil blended to perfection in the store.
Makdoos : An acidic paste of broiled eggplant, olive oil, traditional spices and walnuts made with love in the kitchen.
Hot Desert Breakfast
Soft Lebani Cheese made Traditionally in Store with Scrambled egg, Fresh Tomatoes and Cucumber
5.99
Falafel Fat Boy
A Warm Pita with Our Famous Hummus, Falafel, and your Choice of Fresh Tabuli or Our Classic Mediterranean Salad.
6.99
Super Falafel Feast
Steaming Hot Falafel, Spicy Dagga, Taziki Yogurt Sauce, Our House made Hummus, Fresh Avocado, and Lettuce
7.99
Beef Kebab
Swiss Melted on Beef Kebab in a Spicy Dagga Sauce, with Fresh Hummus, Tomato, and Onion
6.99
Cheese & Hummus Melt
Swiss Melted inside a Toasty Pita, With Your Choice of Spicy or Classic Hummus and Fresh Tomato.
3.99
Middle Eastern Mama
Swiss Melted on Turkey, Homemade Creamy Hummus, Lettuce, and Our Spicy Dagga
6.99
Veggie Pita
Avocado, Lettuce, Tomato, Tangy Homemade Makdoos, Onion, Bell Peppers, And Cucumber
5.99
Big Daddy Pita
Turkey and Gouda with Our Unforgettable Hummus, Lettuce, Tomato, and Our Spicy Dagga
6.99
Lebani Pita
Our Homemade Creamy Lebani Cheese, With Olives, Fresh Cucumbers, Tomatoes, Red Onion, Bell Peppers, and Fresh Mint.
6.99
-Liz
Deli Manager
(Though if you ask very nicely and we still have some of the old Menu ingredients , they might be able to be made)
All Our sandwiches will be made on locally baked and daily delivered White or Wheat Hamati Pita Bread.
The ingredients you might not be familiar with:
Lebani : A slightly sour, salty, soft white cheese from cows milk, fermented in olive oil and pressed by hand in our kitchen.
Taziki : A tangy refreshing yogurt sauce with cucumbers and parsley, prepared in store.
Dagga : A spicy tomato sauce with fresh tomatoes, onions, jalapenos, zatar and olive oil blended to perfection in the store.
Makdoos : An acidic paste of broiled eggplant, olive oil, traditional spices and walnuts made with love in the kitchen.
The Menu
Kings’ Beef
Gouda Melted on Roast Beef,
Homemade Creamy Hummus, Lettuce, and Our Spicy Dagga
6.99
Gouda Melted on Roast Beef,
Homemade Creamy Hummus, Lettuce, and Our Spicy Dagga
6.99
Hot Desert Breakfast
Soft Lebani Cheese made Traditionally in Store with Scrambled egg, Fresh Tomatoes and Cucumber
5.99
Falafel Fat Boy
A Warm Pita with Our Famous Hummus, Falafel, and your Choice of Fresh Tabuli or Our Classic Mediterranean Salad.
6.99
Super Falafel Feast
Steaming Hot Falafel, Spicy Dagga, Taziki Yogurt Sauce, Our House made Hummus, Fresh Avocado, and Lettuce
7.99
Beef Kebab
Swiss Melted on Beef Kebab in a Spicy Dagga Sauce, with Fresh Hummus, Tomato, and Onion
6.99
Cheese & Hummus Melt
Swiss Melted inside a Toasty Pita, With Your Choice of Spicy or Classic Hummus and Fresh Tomato.
3.99
Middle Eastern Mama
Swiss Melted on Turkey, Homemade Creamy Hummus, Lettuce, and Our Spicy Dagga
6.99
Veggie Pita
Avocado, Lettuce, Tomato, Tangy Homemade Makdoos, Onion, Bell Peppers, And Cucumber
5.99
Big Daddy Pita
Turkey and Gouda with Our Unforgettable Hummus, Lettuce, Tomato, and Our Spicy Dagga
6.99
Lebani Pita
Our Homemade Creamy Lebani Cheese, With Olives, Fresh Cucumbers, Tomatoes, Red Onion, Bell Peppers, and Fresh Mint.
6.99
-Liz
Deli Manager
Prednisone, pounds, parasites, passings & pie
I had another chest x-ray and visit with Dr. Forman this morning. My chest is clearing up and I'm feeling significantly better today. Not 100% yet, but much better. I think I have the Prednisone steroid to thank for my new-found energy.
I was already on a downward weight trajectory before the Prednisone, but now I'm losing at an even faster rate - four coveted pounds in one week. I wanted those pounds. I needed those pounds, but now I'll have to earn them back. (I'd like to gain a total of 14.)
I was eager to find out if I'm the "hostess with the mostest." That is, am I the host to a parasite? Alas, the results haven't yet come back from the lab. I told Dr. Forman, "I never thought I'd say this, but I hope I have worms." He hopes so too, since that will be an easy explanation for
a multitude of unexplained symptoms.
I received a call yesterday from James, my cat-napping partner in crime in SF. He saw Bob on Tuesday and Friday and fears that he only has days to live. He has stopped eating and refuses a feeding tube.
My friend Kiki and I plan to drive up together to SF this weekend for a final goodbye. I'm not good at goodbyes (are any of us?), so I'm struggling with this. I found something helpful while reading the comments on Roy Siever's My Cancer blog this morning. The commenter recommended saying "thank you" instead of "goodbye."
With that in mind, I'll amend my previous sentence to read "a final thank you."
(Now, in an effort to pack on pounds, I'm heading down to Pie 'n' Burger in Pasadena for a chocolate milkshake and a burger. I may even spring for a slice of pie.)
I was already on a downward weight trajectory before the Prednisone, but now I'm losing at an even faster rate - four coveted pounds in one week. I wanted those pounds. I needed those pounds, but now I'll have to earn them back. (I'd like to gain a total of 14.)
I was eager to find out if I'm the "hostess with the mostest." That is, am I the host to a parasite? Alas, the results haven't yet come back from the lab. I told Dr. Forman, "I never thought I'd say this, but I hope I have worms." He hopes so too, since that will be an easy explanation for
a multitude of unexplained symptoms.
I received a call yesterday from James, my cat-napping partner in crime in SF. He saw Bob on Tuesday and Friday and fears that he only has days to live. He has stopped eating and refuses a feeding tube.
My friend Kiki and I plan to drive up together to SF this weekend for a final goodbye. I'm not good at goodbyes (are any of us?), so I'm struggling with this. I found something helpful while reading the comments on Roy Siever's My Cancer blog this morning. The commenter recommended saying "thank you" instead of "goodbye."
With that in mind, I'll amend my previous sentence to read "a final thank you."
(Now, in an effort to pack on pounds, I'm heading down to Pie 'n' Burger in Pasadena for a chocolate milkshake and a burger. I may even spring for a slice of pie.)
Sunday, July 20, 2008
BEER: NEW RELEASES 07/20/08
1.BROUWEIJ DE REGENBOOG t'SMISJE FIORI
Limited Edition Spiced ale
2.BROUWERIJ DE REGENBOOG t'SMISJE BB BOURGONDIER-12%abv Belgian strong ale
3.BROUWEIJ DE REGENBOOG VUUVE-unusual spiced wheat beer from Brugge
4.BROUWERIJ DE REGENBOOG WOSTYNTJE-Small batch ale from Brugge made with mustard seed
5. BIRRIFICIO DI COMO MALTHUS BALUBA-Extremely Limited Italian dark ale, brewed with pineapple, apricot, ginger and rue
6.BARLEY BB10 DEXI-Small batch Italian ale brewed with
Cannnonau grapes and orange peels
7.BIRRA TROLL PALANFRINA-Small batch Italian Castagna ale, brewed with cestunt flowers, dried chestnuts, chestnut honey and chestnut jam
8.BIRRA TROLL SHANGRILA-Small batch Italian ale, brewed with anise, pepper, tandori and curry
9.BIRRA TROLL SHANGRILA FUME-Small batch Italian ale, brewed with peated and smoked malt
10.BIRRIFICO ITALIANO SCIRES-Highly carbonated Italian ale with sour cherries. Very limited
11.DE DOLLE ARABIER-The light, perfectly balanced spring release from Esen
12.DE DOLLE EXTRA EXPORT STOUT-Strong, dark Belgian-style stout
13.HARVEY'S ELIZABETHAN ALE-Bottle-conditioned vintage English strong ale
14.GEORGE GALE CONQUEST ALE MASTERBREW 2001-Vintage strong bottle-conditioned pale ale
15.GEORGE GALE PRIZE OLD ALE 1996-Vintage strong bottle-conditioned old ale
16.1809 BERLINER WEISSE-Sour, acidic style native to Berlin. Very interesting and unique
17. FARSON'S LACTO MILK STOUT-The only beer available from Malta. Lactose added after fermentation creates a condensed milk type sweetness
Cheers!
Dave
Limited Edition Spiced ale
2.BROUWERIJ DE REGENBOOG t'SMISJE BB BOURGONDIER-12%abv Belgian strong ale
3.BROUWEIJ DE REGENBOOG VUUVE-unusual spiced wheat beer from Brugge
4.BROUWERIJ DE REGENBOOG WOSTYNTJE-Small batch ale from Brugge made with mustard seed
5. BIRRIFICIO DI COMO MALTHUS BALUBA-Extremely Limited Italian dark ale, brewed with pineapple, apricot, ginger and rue
6.BARLEY BB10 DEXI-Small batch Italian ale brewed with
Cannnonau grapes and orange peels
7.BIRRA TROLL PALANFRINA-Small batch Italian Castagna ale, brewed with cestunt flowers, dried chestnuts, chestnut honey and chestnut jam
8.BIRRA TROLL SHANGRILA-Small batch Italian ale, brewed with anise, pepper, tandori and curry
9.BIRRA TROLL SHANGRILA FUME-Small batch Italian ale, brewed with peated and smoked malt
10.BIRRIFICO ITALIANO SCIRES-Highly carbonated Italian ale with sour cherries. Very limited
11.DE DOLLE ARABIER-The light, perfectly balanced spring release from Esen
12.DE DOLLE EXTRA EXPORT STOUT-Strong, dark Belgian-style stout
13.HARVEY'S ELIZABETHAN ALE-Bottle-conditioned vintage English strong ale
14.GEORGE GALE CONQUEST ALE MASTERBREW 2001-Vintage strong bottle-conditioned pale ale
15.GEORGE GALE PRIZE OLD ALE 1996-Vintage strong bottle-conditioned old ale
16.1809 BERLINER WEISSE-Sour, acidic style native to Berlin. Very interesting and unique
17. FARSON'S LACTO MILK STOUT-The only beer available from Malta. Lactose added after fermentation creates a condensed milk type sweetness
Cheers!
Dave
Time for an intervention
"Summertime" is still stuck in my head. I think I'm inches away from mental illness. Even WCK recognizes that her mother has a serious problem. Yesterday, when I was absentmindedly singing it to myself, she decided that we needed to sit down and have an important talk.
"Mommy," she said soberly, "the New Kids on the Block ARE NOT as good as Mr. Stinky Feet."
Deep down in my heart, I know she is right.
"Mommy," she said soberly, "the New Kids on the Block ARE NOT as good as Mr. Stinky Feet."
Deep down in my heart, I know she is right.
Saturday, July 19, 2008
FAQ
How are you feeling? Either the steroid or the antibiotic is working its magic. The prednisone gives me a little artificial boost of energy. I'm coughing much less and walking a little farther before I start gasping for air. All in all, much better.
How is Puss getting along with the other Carrier pets? I try to do at least two "meeting of the mutts" sessions per day. At first, Puss would let out one continuous hiss when she encountered any of the creatures. Now she pauses for several long seconds between hisses. And she's no longer lashing out with her claws at Betty. Good signs! (Since I wrote this, we had a hiss-free encounter between Betty and Puss this morning.)
When are you going to post on your food blog again? After a two-week dry spell, I just posted on Open Mouth, Insert Fork this morning. Click here if you're ready for a slice of fresh peach pie.
How is Puss getting along with the other Carrier pets? I try to do at least two "meeting of the mutts" sessions per day. At first, Puss would let out one continuous hiss when she encountered any of the creatures. Now she pauses for several long seconds between hisses. And she's no longer lashing out with her claws at Betty. Good signs! (Since I wrote this, we had a hiss-free encounter between Betty and Puss this morning.)
When are you going to post on your food blog again? After a two-week dry spell, I just posted on Open Mouth, Insert Fork this morning. Click here if you're ready for a slice of fresh peach pie.
Life among the weeds
Ever since I posted that video, I can't get that song out of my head. I know it's my own fault. I need to live with the bad choices I make for myself.
My sister posted a comment pointing out that Danny is hardly in the video at all. I had been thinking this very thing. In the "making of" video, Donnie explains the "plot": All of the guys have gone their separate ways for 15 years, and he sends out a text message that prompts them all to reunite. (Apparently a few dozen dancing bikini women received this text as well, although I wonder where on their bodies they store their cell phones.) If you weren't brave enough to watch the video (and, really, you SHOULD NOT watch it unless you want that song in your head for many years), I'll review: When Donnie sends out the text, he's shown getting into his own private helicopter. Joe is hanging out on his yacht, Jordan and Jon are each driving around in super fancy cars. And Danny ... is running around in some tall weeds.
Poor Danny.
Nobody ever liked Danny the best. We also sort of tolerated Danny as part of the group, but he was never anyone's favorite. I mean, face it: He's just not as cute as the others. He has no real skills. Yeah, he could lift weights and sang the deep-voice part on "Step by Step", but nobody was really that impressed. No girl would be caught dead wearing a Danny button or hanging a Danny poster in her locker. Now I'm wondering if each New Kid received royalties from his individual products. Joe sold enough buttons to buy a yacht, and Danny has to live in the weeds. It looks like he was able to afford a few new tattoos, though. Good for him.
In other news: I went to the Cancer Center yesterday. It was all pretty routine. My blood counts are OK. My white cells are a little low, but not by much. Dr. GPO said I could try 2 mg of dex per week. (That is half a pill!) Like last time, though, I'm continuing on the 4 mg until I get my results back showing everything is OK. I'm on it right now. It's not too bad. Really annoying and icky, but not horrible.
Now I'm off to sing "Summertime" in my head for the rest of the day.
My sister posted a comment pointing out that Danny is hardly in the video at all. I had been thinking this very thing. In the "making of" video, Donnie explains the "plot": All of the guys have gone their separate ways for 15 years, and he sends out a text message that prompts them all to reunite. (Apparently a few dozen dancing bikini women received this text as well, although I wonder where on their bodies they store their cell phones.) If you weren't brave enough to watch the video (and, really, you SHOULD NOT watch it unless you want that song in your head for many years), I'll review: When Donnie sends out the text, he's shown getting into his own private helicopter. Joe is hanging out on his yacht, Jordan and Jon are each driving around in super fancy cars. And Danny ... is running around in some tall weeds.
Poor Danny.
Nobody ever liked Danny the best. We also sort of tolerated Danny as part of the group, but he was never anyone's favorite. I mean, face it: He's just not as cute as the others. He has no real skills. Yeah, he could lift weights and sang the deep-voice part on "Step by Step", but nobody was really that impressed. No girl would be caught dead wearing a Danny button or hanging a Danny poster in her locker. Now I'm wondering if each New Kid received royalties from his individual products. Joe sold enough buttons to buy a yacht, and Danny has to live in the weeds. It looks like he was able to afford a few new tattoos, though. Good for him.
In other news: I went to the Cancer Center yesterday. It was all pretty routine. My blood counts are OK. My white cells are a little low, but not by much. Dr. GPO said I could try 2 mg of dex per week. (That is half a pill!) Like last time, though, I'm continuing on the 4 mg until I get my results back showing everything is OK. I'm on it right now. It's not too bad. Really annoying and icky, but not horrible.
Now I'm off to sing "Summertime" in my head for the rest of the day.
Friday, July 18, 2008
Someone...please end my misery!
Okay, so today the oncologist also mentioned the possibility of it being fat necrosis, but she was still concerned. She wanted to biopsy it asap, like right then and there, but since it was 4:00 PM on a Friday, no one was around to do it. She said it still struck her as bizarre and the sooner we figured out what it was, the better. She also mentioned that the area around the left breast was "ridgy." Who knows?
She had me wait around to see if I could get an appointment for an ultrasound for next week, but it was kinda impossible. The receptionist said there was a slim chance I would get called, if there was a cancellation or something like that.
So...more waiting! Yay!
She had me wait around to see if I could get an appointment for an ultrasound for next week, but it was kinda impossible. The receptionist said there was a slim chance I would get called, if there was a cancellation or something like that.
So...more waiting! Yay!
Pins and needles in the morning
Well I have more blood work in the morn, I think I will let them take it out of my left hand tommorrow. It seems that one of the levels created by one of the immunosupresant drugs is low, so I have had to increase my dosage of that pill to incresae my suppression levels.
On a brighter note, I am getting my workouts in 2.5 miles tonight (mostly walking with a little jogging VERY LITTLE JOGGING, I think I will set a goal to get in 15 miles a week on the track and about 500 angled push-ups per week when I am working out outside.
Bo is on they mend best news of the day
On a brighter note, I am getting my workouts in 2.5 miles tonight (mostly walking with a little jogging VERY LITTLE JOGGING, I think I will set a goal to get in 15 miles a week on the track and about 500 angled push-ups per week when I am working out outside.
Bo is on they mend best news of the day
You're beautiful and I love you
When I was going through treatment last year, my friend Bob would leave a lavish message for me once a week: "This message is for my dear and beautiful friend Susan to tell her that I love her."Call me easy, but these words in Bob's mellifluous voice would melt my heart every time.
Is it any wonder I make mad dashes to SF? Now that Bob is fading, I never miss an opportunity to tell him, "You're beautiful, and I love you." The words always bring a smile to his face.
The titles on Bob's bookshelf reveal his beautiful mind.
I love the title "Black Intellectuals, Black Cognition and the Black Aesthetic."
Thursday, July 17, 2008
Dead Fat
"Fat necrosis."
That's what Dr. D., the breast cancer surgeon (not to be confused with Dr. VL, who is the plastic surgeon) said when she felt my lumps. She smiled and said not to worry.
I asked her what would be the point in getting a chest xray--as I'm scheduled to get tomorrow.
She shrugged and said, "Might as well."
Ok.
I sure hope it is dead fat, rather than live cancer cells.
That's what Dr. D., the breast cancer surgeon (not to be confused with Dr. VL, who is the plastic surgeon) said when she felt my lumps. She smiled and said not to worry.
I asked her what would be the point in getting a chest xray--as I'm scheduled to get tomorrow.
She shrugged and said, "Might as well."
Ok.
I sure hope it is dead fat, rather than live cancer cells.
Summertime
Don't worry; I haven't forgotten about the New Kids! I am still keeping my solemn vigil until the Nov. 11 NKOTB concert by posting a video on the 11th of each month. This month, vacation got in the way, so I am nearly a week late. I promise this video will be well worth it.
This is their newest video, "Summertime." Now, at first glance it may appear to be nothing but three solid minutes of wrinkly, 40-something-year-old married men climbing all over 18-year-old bikini models. If you visit YouTube, however, you can find a three-part series about the making of this video. Donnie explains that it has a very detailed, serious plot. They're simply enduring the bikini models for the sake of art. Also, they worked very hard on this video. Jon tells us that on one of the days of the video shoot, they had to get up as early as EIGHT A.M. to dance with these bikini models.
Gosh, I hate to see them suffering like this.
Off to CoH
After a couple of weeks of low grade fevers (99.9), my temperature spiked last night to 102.3.
I avoided a late night trip to the emergency room, but I'm heading off this morning for blood work, a chest x-ray and an appointment with Dr. Forman. Something's going on in my body. I just don't know what it is.
1:25 pm UPDATE: X-rays of my lungs look like they did when I was hospitalized in January. We don't know if it's pneumonia or lung damage from the bleomycin chemo drug that I received before the stem cell transplant. I have meds for both (antibiotics and steroids), so my bases are covered.
We don't know how or if this ties in with the high EOS count. I return to CoH on Monday.
I avoided a late night trip to the emergency room, but I'm heading off this morning for blood work, a chest x-ray and an appointment with Dr. Forman. Something's going on in my body. I just don't know what it is.
1:25 pm UPDATE: X-rays of my lungs look like they did when I was hospitalized in January. We don't know if it's pneumonia or lung damage from the bleomycin chemo drug that I received before the stem cell transplant. I have meds for both (antibiotics and steroids), so my bases are covered.
We don't know how or if this ties in with the high EOS count. I return to CoH on Monday.
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
SAKE: NEW ARRIVALS 07/16/08
1. JIZAKE POOCHI POOCHI-A small batch micro brewerd sake with champagne carbonation. Serve chilled.($13.99/330ml)
2. OZEKI JUNMAI GENSHU HYOREI-This rare cask strength sake is bold and smooth. Pairs well with meat dishes, and tomato-based pasta. Serve ice cold. ($7.99/300ml)
3. GENBEI SAN NO ONIGOROSHI-"Devil Killer." A smooth, mild sake. Pairs well with strong blue cheeses. ($4.99/187ml)
4. HAKUTSURU JUNMAI GINJO-"White Crane." Floral and crisp, with just a hint of citrus. Very versatile in terms of food pairings. ($7.49/300ml)
5. HAKUTSURU SAYURI NIGORI-An unfiltered sake, with light, subtle sweetness, and touches of tropical fruit. Pairs well with Japanese noodle-based dishes. ($6.99/300ml)
6. OZEKI HANA AWAKA-A sweet, sparkling sake from Hyogo, Japan. Serve chilled. ($5.99/250ml)
7. JIZAKE TOMOSHICHI NIGORI-"Seven Friends." A rare and delicate unfiltered sake from an obscure micro brewery. Strong and sweet with an earthy backbone. Very nice with veal chops.($19.99/375ml)
8. JIZAKE KIMOTO SHIZENSHU-This rich, full-bodied sake uses an open fermentation brewing style, similar to Belgian lambics. Hints of vanilla, cream, and peach soften out into more earthy flavors of morels and butter. The signature sake from Daishichi Brewery.($39.99/720ml)
9. KIUCHI YUZU WINE-Yuzu is a sour Japanese citrus which has an aroma distinct from any Western citrus.($19.99/16.9oz)
Kampai!
Dave
Back to Fancy
I had this big lump called a lipoma on my upper arm. Lipo as in fat. It's a fatty tumor. I had it removed in the early 1990s and it grew back so that sometimes people would think I had a big muscle there. It made me self-conscious. More self-conscious than having just one breast. I can't explain it. Earlier this year at a routine appointment with the breast surgeon, she offered to take it off. I said, Wouldn't that be a waste of your talents? She said no. So I decided to go ahead with it. The guy who took it off the first time was a talented surgeon, but was quite annoying. I remember when I left his office after a follow-up appointment, he said, Now be a good girl.
We must have been about the same age. What was that supposed to mean? I may have asked him that. Or not.
Today was lipoma removal day, and because the breast surgeon was doing it, I was in the breast surgery section of Fancy. While I was waiting I read Harvey Pekar and Joyce Brabner's Our Cancer Year, about Pekar's lymphoma during the first Gulf War. They were also buying a house. I was reading about being in a hospital while I was in the hospital and waiting to be sedated and inside his life and my life at the same time. Many doctors and nurses and a fellow came through and my doctor marked on my arm where she was going to cut. They gave me Versed, the "twilight" anesthetic that knocks you partly out. The weird thing about it is that it erases the experience so you might have been in pain while under its influence, or even awake and aware. All I remember is being in the little pre-op room and then hearing a man telling a woman, jokingly, that he was going to sell her uterus. I mentioned this to a nurse and she said, Oh, so that's when you woke up. Did she explain that someone was getting a hysterectomy? Maybe.
They unhooked me from the IV and a nurse put a bandage over the vein and she stepped out so I could dress and I put my shorts on and suddenly there was blood everywhere. Drops of it all over the floor and bed and I couldn't find a nurse button to push so I went out in the hall, dripping more blood on the floor and a curtain, and the nurse told me to sit down and she used bedclothes to wipe the blood from me and the floor. It was quite dramatic. I felt like a character in a fairy tale dropping rose petals. She held gauze to my vein very tightly then put a bandaid on and all was well. I finished dressing and L came and got me and we took the L to our new home, where D the contractor told us that the foundation (walls made of brick) are damp. L had asked him to check them out after seeing that a portion of expose brick was flaking and powdering off. So we begin the Money Pit portion of our show.
Now I am very sleepy and tired and have an Ace bandage wrapped very tightly around my upper arm. There's a drain bulb that I have to empty twice a day. I recommend Our Cancer Year. It's agonizing and political and emotionally complex and a little bit funny.
We must have been about the same age. What was that supposed to mean? I may have asked him that. Or not.
Today was lipoma removal day, and because the breast surgeon was doing it, I was in the breast surgery section of Fancy. While I was waiting I read Harvey Pekar and Joyce Brabner's Our Cancer Year, about Pekar's lymphoma during the first Gulf War. They were also buying a house. I was reading about being in a hospital while I was in the hospital and waiting to be sedated and inside his life and my life at the same time. Many doctors and nurses and a fellow came through and my doctor marked on my arm where she was going to cut. They gave me Versed, the "twilight" anesthetic that knocks you partly out. The weird thing about it is that it erases the experience so you might have been in pain while under its influence, or even awake and aware. All I remember is being in the little pre-op room and then hearing a man telling a woman, jokingly, that he was going to sell her uterus. I mentioned this to a nurse and she said, Oh, so that's when you woke up. Did she explain that someone was getting a hysterectomy? Maybe.
They unhooked me from the IV and a nurse put a bandage over the vein and she stepped out so I could dress and I put my shorts on and suddenly there was blood everywhere. Drops of it all over the floor and bed and I couldn't find a nurse button to push so I went out in the hall, dripping more blood on the floor and a curtain, and the nurse told me to sit down and she used bedclothes to wipe the blood from me and the floor. It was quite dramatic. I felt like a character in a fairy tale dropping rose petals. She held gauze to my vein very tightly then put a bandaid on and all was well. I finished dressing and L came and got me and we took the L to our new home, where D the contractor told us that the foundation (walls made of brick) are damp. L had asked him to check them out after seeing that a portion of expose brick was flaking and powdering off. So we begin the Money Pit portion of our show.
Now I am very sleepy and tired and have an Ace bandage wrapped very tightly around my upper arm. There's a drain bulb that I have to empty twice a day. I recommend Our Cancer Year. It's agonizing and political and emotionally complex and a little bit funny.
BEER: NEW ARRIVALS 07/16/08
1. GOUDEN CAROLUS HOPSINJOOR-$5.99 /12oz.
2. GOUDEN CAROLUS CUVEE VAN DE KEIZER-$13.99/ 750ml
3. FLYING DOG GONZOO PORTER-$11.99/4pk/12oz
4. AYINGER CELEBRATOR-$3.99/12oz
5. RUSSIAN RIVER PLINY THE ELDER-$4.99/16.9oz
6. DE PROEF FLEMISH PRIVITIVE (LATEST RELEASE)-$15.99/750ml
7. SAMUEL SMITH ORGANIC CIDER-$4.99/550ml
8. CUCAPA CHUPACABRA PALE ALE-$4.99/22oz
Lots more coming in the next few days!
Cheers
dave
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