Anniversaries

Thirty (yes, 30) years ago today, I gave birth for the last time.  We now have 4 children in their 30’s.  5 years ago yesterday, Hollis and I returned from our cruise to Alaska.  On Wednesday our newest granddaughter will be 3 months old.

One year ago today I had the mammogram that started my breast cancer journey.  There will be several anniversaries for me in the next few weeks that I am struggling with just a bit.  I am in the middle of a 9 week workshop for breast cancer survivors that has been really interesting.  Though I am very close to lots of people, I guess I am a pretty independent person.  I always assume that whatever I am going through, my thoughts and feelings about it are uniquely mine.  I truly couldn’t tell you why I signed up for this workshop but it has proven to show, first and foremost, that I am not even a little bit unique.  It is faith based so it has driven home quite deeply that I am also never, ever alone in these thoughts and feelings that I have been experiencing.  My faith has not been tested by this journey at all but it has been wonderful to be reminded that I am created in God’s image and that He will not desert me in any trial. 

The idea behind this workshop is that once treatment is over and the body is healed, it doesn’t mean the survivor is whole again.  Cancer fundamentally changes you in ways you don’t see coming.  While recurrence for me is unlikely, I don’t plan to be caught by surprise again.  This means that while Hollis, the boys and their families think this chapter is completely closed, I’m on guard for it to be reopened.  I’ll see an oncologist every six months for a long time to be on guard for any return.  My basic trust in my body to be healthy is shaken.  My scars are a whole other set of issues.  I’m getting better about them but, well, they’re still jarring at times.

Now to be sure, I do not lay awake at night worrying about a recurrence.  It’s more a passing thought.  But the thought passes every single day.  Sometimes more than once a day.  There are other ways my body has changed.  I have (and really hate) hot flashes!  I tell people they are from the devil.  They laugh; I’m not being funny.  They are ridiculously bothersome so I take non-hormonal meds to minimize them but they are not gone.  There’s a chance they never will be.  Did I mention I really despise them?  Mine emanate from my core and spread outward in a most unpleasant sensation day or night.  It’s been a really hot summer here and that has made things even more of a challenge.  Let’s change the subject before I have a hot flash. . .

Though the scars are extensive, I do have to say that I am ridiculously blessed to have them.  This fact also contributes to feeling like it’s not over.  Even though in my shallow moments I feel mutilated, I know that I am crazy lucky to live in a time when the treatment available to me is so incredibly amazing.  As I meet more survivors and hear their stories, I am reminded regularly that for no good reason I can explain, I landed in front of a really good general surgeon who didn’t just tell me what we were going to do.  He gave me a list of treatment and surgical options.  He gave me a list of plastic surgeons and told me that PRMA was a group that did really good work.  He gave me a list of oncologists and told me that he had worked well with several of them.  He didn’t presume to make any decisions for me.  I’m finding out that not everyone has that experience and it makes me really angry!  I’m looking for my advocacy voice and it might be in this area.  Any one facing the awfulness of breast cancer should know ALL of their options!  There is something about going through this experience that calls you to help others facing it.  I don’t yet know how this will manifest itself in my life but I sure feel the need to help somehow, some way.

When I was about finished with my plastic surgery treatment, I made a video testimonial for PRMA back in May; it was just recently posted to their website and several social media forums.  I even posted it to my Facebook page, too.  It was edited pretty substantially but I like the result.  When I think about Dr. Pisano, his nurse Kathleen and the PRMA team, I am really, deeply thankful that they exist.  The reconstruction I had is called “DIEP Flap” and it is considered to be the gold standard in breast reconstruction.

There are also so many “ifs”.  If I had chosen implants instead of transplanted tummy tissue, I’d probably need to have them redone in 10 years or so; that would be at my expense.  If I had gone to a different general surgeon, I might not have been given options.  I don’t even want to talk about the “if” of skipping my mammogram last year.  So as I face these anniversaries, I am thankful to be aware of the “ifs”.  September 25^th is the anniversary of the horrible biopsy experience.  September 26^th is when I got the call from my OB/GYN.  I will never forget her words.  I’d had a biopsy 5 years ago that was negative for cancer.  When she called last year she said “Well, we weren’t so lucky this time.  They found cancer in both biopsy samples.”  We sat on the news for a while so that we could get more information before telling the boys and extended family and friends.  I was fearful like I’d never been before; I was threatened like never before.

 

All those feelings are coming back as I face the anniversaries but there’s been a bright spot.  The Patient Liaison at PRMA asked me two weeks ago if I would be available in the evening on October 25^th.  “Sure,” I said.  “That happens to be the one year anniversary of my big surgery.”  “I know!” she said.  “We would like to invite you to be our honoree at the annual Bras for a Cause Gala that night.”  This Gala is a fundraiser for a group called Pink Warrior Angels.  Businesses in the area decorate a bra; really bling it out.  At the Gala, New Braunfels Fire Fighters model the bras and they are auctioned off.  Tickets sell out!!  Quickly!  Hollis and I will be their guests and hopefully some family and friends will be able to attend as well.  I had no idea such a great thing could happen to me on the anniversary of the hardest day I’ve ever had in my life.  My friends took me gala dress shopping last weekend and we had a blast!  I picked out and brought home the most amazing dress!  There will be photos for sure and I know we will have a wonderful evening.  How did I get this lucky again?  I wonder if I will ever get used to using the word lucky in conjunction with getting a life threatening, body mutilating, brain altering disease.  

Please keep me in your prayers over the next few weeks.  Pray that I feel grateful and not threatened.  That I remember being skillfully treated with top notch medical people and not remember being in pain.  That I remember being tenderly, carefully cared for by many people and not worry that my body and mind are all so different now.  That I remember I am now physically healed with little chance of recurrence and to not worry that this awful, unfair disease won’t be zero risk until I am dead.  So many of you prayed for my healing last year and I appreciated every one of them.  If you’d remember me one more time, I would be thankful for that as well.

The Close of a Chapter

It's time to wrap up this chapter of my life.  At least I hope it's over.  On Friday I went for my final visit with my plastic surgeon, Dr. Steven Pisano.  He says I have had a really great outcome.  I mostly agree.  My new breasts have a lovely shape and feel very natural.  My belly is nothing short of amazing!  I'm a little surprised by how willing I am to show my scars to about anyone who expresses an interest in seeing them.  My modesty is on vacay. 

Dr. Pisano, me, Nurse Kathleen

Graduation from PRMA

   Like everything in life the good and bad are mixed and there is lots more good than bad.  I would never have chosen this adventure but I have to acknowledge a few things.  First and foremost, Hollis.  I have loved this man since I was 18 years old or about 2/3 of my life.  We have been blessed with a seriously above average marriage and we take time often to be thankful for that and for each other but this took everything to a new level.  Hollis tends to get aggravated with me if I get a bruise or skin my knee.  He tells me often "be careful!" I have had a passing thought through the years that if something big (like maybe breast cancer) happened that he would be just plain mad.  In his way, I guess he was but he never showed it to me.  From taking me for my nightmare biopsies to standing behind me with every decision I had to make, he was great.  Then there was the surgery.  I think he's had two of the worst days of his life during this adventure.  The first was probably my big surgery day that dragged on so much longer than any of us expected and the second was likely watching me be wheeled into the emergency surgery 5 weeks later with my infection.  You would have to ask him to be sure.  I was told before big surgery that I would need full time care for at least two weeks afterwards.  I knew he needed to get back to work during the day and my wonderful friends and awesome sister all agreed to make that happen.  He came home from work each day and bathed me.  He installed a hand held shower head in our front bathroom before I got home from the hospital to make this a bit easier.  He lovingly undressed, washed, dried and dressed me when I could not do it myself and then brought me pain pills because it was painful and exhausting to get clean.  He emptied my surgical drains and carefully recorded the output so we would know when they could be removed.  Through it all, there was not one whine or complaint (from him, of course).  Even though we have loved each other for nearly 40 years, you just dont' know until you get here how it will go.  There's no way to know.  I have never felt so deeply loved, treasured and cared for in my life.  It's a crazy sentence to write because I have never doubted that he loves me.  Ever.  But this took "us" to a depth of commitment I could not have imagined. I totally love that guy!

   Next there are the people who rallied to take care of me.  I think if you ask any of them they will tell you it was just a few hours out of their lives and that they love me enough to help where I needed it but it affected me much more deeply than I can ever express.  My sister has a reputation for cleaning and organizing.  It's not just her "thing," she's got a deep genetic ability in this area.  She was quite stressed about my diagnosis and coming to take care of me was what she wanted to do.  She came through the door saying "I'm more of a maid than a nurse.  Don't hesitate to tell me what you need but between times, I'll be cleaning."  It was great!  When you live in a house for 25 years, you don't always see stuff.  Kathy saw and cleaned so much stuff!  There is also nothing like heavy post surgical drugs to take the edge off your guilt about the stuff she's cleaning - if you know what I mean.

   Not far behind her is my cadre of dear friends who put together a care calendar and made sure that when H got home at the end of the day, dinner was arranged and I was still kicking.  These ladies walked the pasture with me for exercise, brought handwork to pass the time when I was sleeping and they didn't mind when I whined and complained.  I owe each of them a debt I doubt I can every repay and I love them so much for getting me through this.  Quilting brought most of us together but our friendship is much deeper than that now.

   Gotta love a college roommate who came and stayed for 3 days when the first two weeks was over and I still wasn't ready to be home alone.  Lori and I have known each other for just a few months longer than Hollis and I have.  In fact, she introduced us.  It was miraculous that she had time to help and her cleaning skills are up there with Kathy's.  More love coming my way!

   Then there is Harris!  That guy really shined through this as well.  His efforts were more in the background.  He fostered my cats at his house so they wouldn't be in the way or try to jump on my chest.  He basically took over care of the chickens and came over most afternoons to relieve whomever was caring for me so they didn't have to fight traffic to get home.  He was there for his dad and for me and we both appreciate it.  Desi was my taxi when I needed one and Clayton and Courtney brought the kids by to keep me smiling and looking forward.  I'll never forget Cayden saying "Omi, you got owies?"  Yes, baby, Omi gots owies.  They're gone now and we can play.

   That's an overview of the heavy hitters.  In addition to that, people from church brought me communion and visited me in the hospital.  Other friends and extra kids brought food and snacks and offered to be available if I needed them.  I was covered in every way I could imagine and in ways I never thought I'd need to be.

   Here is how things look going forward.  I will see my oncologist every six months for at least 5 years.  I really like her and she has a great reputation for both her expertise and her patient care.  I feel like those who love me believe this adventure is over and statistically, they're all probably right but I was shocked by this diagnosis.  I don't plan to be caught off guard again.  It doesn't keep me awake nights but I am on guard.  Dr. Pisano says that's pretty normal.  He told me to make sure being on guard doesn't steal any of my joy.  I don't think it will.  I just don't want to be surprised again.  

Lastly, I have signed up to be a patient advocate at the plastic surgeons office.  I don’t know if telling my story will be helpful but I made a video testimonial at the office a few weeks ago.  They will post it on their social media in July and I’ll put up a link to it.  Never hesitate to ask me how I’m doing.  I’m thrilled to say over and over how blessed I am to be healed and how thankful I am to be so loved.  We get a new grandbaby in a few days.  Life is good.  The future is pretty bright.  

The Breast Beast is not Finished with Me

A week ago last Wednesday I had a doctors appointment in New Braunfels and Desiree and Maxx were my taxi team.  I was really close to driving but it was only five weeks since the big surgery and I just wasn’t quite ready.  I woke up feeling weird and by the time Desi and Maxx picked me up at 8:00, I had a bad lower backache and the beginnings of a headache.  By the time I finished the doctor appointment about my knee, I was hurting pretty badly so I asked D&M Taxi Service to please drop me at the Emergency Room of the new hospital in New Braunfels.  I have had kidney stones 3 times in my life and I really thought that was the case on this day.  I was put into an ER room pretty quickly.  They took blood and urine, ordered a CT Scan and gave me some pain medicine.  I called Hollis to let him know where I was and told him that if I was right, I would get some pain meds and D&M would give me a ride home.  He elected to come to the ER anyway.

Not long after he arrived, I was taken for the CT Scan and the doctor came in to say that my white blood cell count was up over 30,000 and that it should be under 10,000.  A few minutes after that, a lady came into the room and said that she had my transfer paperwork and once I signed it, the ambulance would be picking me up in about 10 minutes to transport me to Methodist Hospital where I had had my big surgery five weeks ago.  I was still in awful pain so they put more morphine in my IV and loaded me up.  Hollis went home to grab lunch and some things I might need if I got admitted.  When the EMT’s took me into the ER at Methodist, there was much conversation about where to put me.  Finally one nurse said that I was pre-admitted and that I needed to be taken to Sub Level 2.  Now this was not great news.  Sub Level 2 is the surgery floor of Methodist.  They said Dr. Pisano – my plastic surgeon – was in the building and would come see me shortly.  When he came in he told me that I had an infected seroma.  A seroma is a pocket of fluid.  He said he would be opening up my belly incision, flushing out the infection and sewing me up and that I would probably go home Friday.  Hollis was sent to the waiting room and off I went for surgery.  I woke up, sort of, in the recovery room and then was taken to the same floor of the hospital where I was after my big surgery.

Thursday morning Dr. Pisano came in to tell me some freaky stuff!  He said the fluid was not pus and that it was not yet to the point of abscess but that if I had gone home instead of to the ER, I would have been septic in anywhere from 2-12 hours.  He ordered a culture of the fluid so they could be sure it was a non-resistant form of bacteria.  He also said that he would not decide about releasing me Friday until he had more information and could see how I was doing.  They had me on broad spectrum antibiotics and he wanted to narrow the meds according to the type of infection.  Hollis came Thursday morning to bring my quilt and pillow and a couple of other things.  The rest of Thursday is a blur.  Wonderful friends visited but I was pretty out of it. 

Then things got even more fun.  The culture came back as staph and they changed my antibiotic.  Within an hour of the first IV infusion, I began getting hives on the left side of my face and my upper left thigh – I know! Right??  They tried another high powered antibiotic and BAM – another reaction.  Now the infectious disease doctors on the case want to know if the staph is resistant to treatment or non-resistant.  The weekend dragged on.  I had more great visits!  I really love my village!  Reactions are just a little scary.  Benadryl fixed them but I really wanted good medicine and my walking papers.

Monday arrived and the infectious disease doctor made an executive decision, put me on a bigger dose of the antibiotic I took after my big surgery and send me home.  I was happy to be on my way out the door.  Fortunately, I did not have any reaction to this oral antibiotic.  Hollis stayed home with me Tuesday and then my wonderful sister came from Tyler to be on sister/princess-sitting duty for Wednesday and Thursday.  This included cooking, cleaning, organizing and keeping me company.  She was amazing!  Though I was not nearly wiped out as from my big surgery, a 12” belly incision, fighting an infection and 5 unplanned days in the hospital will wear you out!

 

The whining paragraph (read at your own risk):  1. I miss driving!  I have not driven my car since October 24^th.  My nurse Kathleen says that when the last surgical drain comes out Monday that I need to start driving.  Okay!  I will!  2. I am so ridiculously behind on Christmas!  I hope I feel up to decorating this week and based on stamina, shopping will probably be seriously curbed.  We will have small group here for Christmas Eve and maybe H and I will make it to church that night.  Last one – I really want my life back!  I am so very grateful to be cured and I want to get the rest of my plan over with so that grandkids and quilt shops take up most of my time.

Thank you all for all the support!  I truly could not have gotten through this without my husband, family, friends, quilting sisters and all who have encouraged, prayed for and entertained me these last couple of months.  You are all precious to me beyond words!  

Progress Report

Back in 2000, Julia Roberts was on Oprah one day promoting her new movie Erin Brokovich.  At the time she was dating actor Benjamin Bratt.  When Oprah asked Julia about the scene where she showed her cleavage to get a clerk to help her, Julia laughed and said that Ben said "it takes a village to raise that cleavage!"  I kind of feel that way about this new body.  This is by far the most pain I have ever endured in my life.  I gave birth to three of my four boys without any pain medication.  I've had 3 kidney stones.  I like to think I am not a wimp.  This has been awful.  I still hurt when I change positions.  I am finally sleeping in my bed but I wake up every time I have to change positions.  There are times I'm so emotional and sad that I don't know what to do.  I'm 3 weeks out and I still have my surgical drain in my belly incision.  All my assumptions about bouncing back quickly are just not happening.  This is going to take time and that fact goes in the minus column, not the plus.  But then, getting back to Julia and Ben, there is the plus column.  

My village has way stepped up!  Surgery day did not go as planned.  My 4-6 hour surgery became 12 hours.  I kissed Hollis at 7:45 AM and did not see his face again until 10:00 that night.  I cannot imagine how awful that day must have been for him.  The updates that came regularly early in the day more or less stopped late afternoon and although my surgeon did step out to tell him they were taking me back to surgery, he did not ever return to tell Hollis what had happened or how I was.  When I did wake up, Hollis, Morgan and Harris were there to greet me.  I'm sure it was a long, frightening day for all of them and many others.  Things I didn't anticipate; 1.  Being too weak to hold my phone and text.  I couldn't text much on Thursday or Friday.  Who is too weak to text?!?  2.  Really good nurses!  They were in my room within minutes of my call and were so caring and gentle.  Even getting me up to walk (which sucked), they were caring, gentle and encouraging. 3.  An endless supply of ice cream, pudding and apple juice!  I guess that falls under the great nurses list but it was sure yummy.

Hollis came back to the hospital Thursday morning.  After he left for work, Eboni came so sit with me.  She crocheted while I slept and saw to my every need.  She also spearheaded the care calendar so I would have caretakers and meals for two weeks when I got home.  Shelley came after work.  She look so relieved to see me.  She was planning to come after surgery on Wednesday but Hollis told her to wait.  My priest, Fr. Hill came to see me as did my friends Lori and Tracy.  Hollis came back after work Friday so we could watch the Astros game and then he came on Saturday to take me home.  My quilt buddy Marsha is a retired nurse.  She came over on Sunday to reassure Hollis and me that all was going well.  It was.  I have had soooooo much good food!  As I slept in the recliner in the living room, Hollis slept on the sofa.  I got care like I've never had, or needed.  Clayton and Courtney stopped by Sunday and they had been telling Cayden that he couldn't hug me.  When he came in he said "Omi, you got owies?"  Yes, baby, Omi gots owies.  H stayed home Monday and Tuesday but the visitors and goodies just kept coming.  I got two beautiful flower arrangements while I was in the hospital and Melanie brought me more flowers, food and a fabulous mocha frappe.  I get cards and notes in the mail every day or two.  I gotta admit, the next few days and the caretakers and food bearers are a bit of a blur.  My sister drove 5 hours from Tyler Wednesday night and arrived in time for us to watch the Astros win the World Series.  That woman is nothing short of a wonder! She took really good care of me and cleaned, I mean really cleaned some neglected parts of my house.  She and I watched the Astros parade on TV Friday afternoon and then she left and Hollis resumed full time care for the next three days.  Monday included a visit to my surgeon's nurse to have two surgical drains removed and that trip alone wore me completely out.  I was still waiting to bounce back.

The rest of the week was 2 caretakers per day, more amazing food deliveries and pain.  My friend Julia has been texting me every day or two checking on my and telling me to be a princess.  This is not something I have much knowledge of, interest in or even tolerance for.  It's been hard to ask for someone to bring me a bottle of water and everything else I've needed.  I had to have pillows under both arms anytime I was sitting.  I could barely lift them so I needed lots of help.  And I wasn't very entertaining.  I slept an awful lot.  I am now able to get in and out of bed, recliners, and walk in our pasture.  I think I am still a week or two away from being out in public.  Bumpy roads will be painful and I don't know when I will be released to drive.  My chest is very bruised and sore.  They said it would take time.  I really hoped they were exagerating.  Apparently, they were not.

I am beyond grateful for my village.  I have not even listed all the wonderful people in this writing who have been so amazing.  I have no way to even begin to thank them.  As we faced week 3, there were no caretakers scheduled because as you know, I thought I'd be all better by then.  I was a bit panicky about being on my own Monday so you know what?  My college roommate, friend of 39 years, drove 4 hours Sunday and cared for me Monday and Tuesday all while cooking up a storm, cleaning and doing laundry and keeping me from giving into the nagging sadness in the back of my mind.  Lori, you have blown my mind with your energy, love and willingness to do this for me.  I cannot even find words!  Thank you to all my village.  What a lame sentence.  I have so much thanking to do.  I only hope that when I am needed that I will be able to shine as brightly as those who have helped me.  It will just be a few weeks before I can be needed.  

Lastly, when my surgeon called me a week after surgery, he told me that I made the right decision.  He said that in addition to the two instances of noninvasive cancer in my right breast that the pathologists had also found just a bit of invasive cancer.  Then he really surprised me.  He said that they found 3 different types of precancerous cells in my left breast.  If I had not had a double mastectomy now, we would be doing all this again next year.  The good news is, I made the right decision for my own health and long life.  Okay, I'll be a princess for a few more days (weeks) but then I need to get on with this life that we all saved.  How do I thank you all for helping to save my life?  I guess we will find out. . .

Houston, We Have a Problem. . .

I haven't posted in nearly 4 1/2 years.  Wow!  Life is mostly great!  I have gained two daughters-in-law, 2 ready made grandsons and now 3 Wooldridge grandkids.  Maxx is 4.  He belongs to Morgan and Desi.  Cayden is almost 3 and Capri just turned 1. They belong to Clayton and Courtney.  Harris lives nearby and Curtis is seeing the world living on cruise ships and selling jewelry.  Hollis and I are as happy as we ever have been.  We will celebrate the 39th anniversary of the day we met next month.  He is still the best human I have ever known.

On Monday, September 25th I had two biopsies on my right breast.  I'm tempted to write about that in detail.  Maybe I should.  I had a biopsy on that same breast 5 years ago and it was negative for cancer.  It was a very unpleasant experience and I was quite aggravated that there was nothing wrong and I had such a bad time recovering that the whole event went into my book as awful.  Now we are on this event.  My OB-GYN who has taken care of my girl parts for the last 8 or 9 years called me Tuesday afternoon and said "Well we weren't so lucky this time.  They found cancer in both samples."  Wait, WHAT?!?!  I have zero risk!  I have no family history!  I nursed all my babies for a year after they were born!  I don't smoke!  This can't be right!!  But it is.  It is a fact.  I have breast cancer. 

On Thursday, September 28th, Hollis and I met with a wonderful human being of a surgeon named Richard Fischer.  He said great things like "this is a curable cancer.  This is not what will kill you." and "This is a significant moment in your life story.  This is as big a deal as your son getting hurt in Iraq.  It's okay to be scared and to take care of yourself."  I hoped he would also give me answers.  Sadly, he gave me a list of options.  Option 1 seemed plausible.  2 wasn't even an option for me.  3 kind of sucked and 4 seemed impossible.  Now I needed to see a plastic surgeon to get more infomation.  On Tuesday October 2, my wonderful friend Eboni accompanied me to meet Dr. Steven Pisano, plastic surgeon.  He is one very confident guy but caring and gentle - things I seem to really appreciate right now.  He explained option 4 to me in detail and I pretty much drank the kool-aid right then.  

In the meantime, Hollis had a conversation with a woman who underwent a version of option 4 about 12 years ago.  She encouraged him to encourage me to take my time choosing an option.  Because his support means the world to me, I honored his request and spoke with friends who have had to make these choices.  

Now I am sure I want to choose option 4. Dr. Pisano's office has coordinated with Dr. Fischer's office and later this month, I am going to have a bi-lateral (double) mastectomy with abdominal tissue transplant reconstruction.  So many multisyllable words to say that the existing breasts are coming off and I will get new ones from my very own body (belly, middle, tummy. . . ).  I am really excited that I will never need another mammogram or biopsy (I really hate those things).  I will have a flat tummy again - I gave up my original about 34 years ago when I had the first of my four 9 pound babies.  I'm trying hard to manage my expectations about the tummy part but this plastic surgeon has lots of before and after photos on his website and he takes great pride in what he does so my level of hope is sky high. 

I cannot escape a couple of things.  I am super sad to lose my own breasts.  I have really liked being a woman with a nice chest.  I LOVED nursing my babies.  Even in the night time and even with mastitis, I was a great nursing mom and I treasure that time of mothering in my life.  I really hoped to die with them intact. Secondly, this is not going to be an easy surgery.  Despite the confidence of my plastic surgeon and his caring, competent nurse, this is gonna hurt!!  I have two weeks of prepping for surgery.  I start protein drinks this week.  I have to get t shirts and slit them down the front to wear under my surgery garments.  I had 5 prescriptions to fill to have on hand when I come home.  I will require 2 solid weeks of 24/7 care when I get home and full recovery will take 4-6 weeks.  Then in three months there will be a follow-up scar revision surgery.  I didn't even have that after having babies!  

People at age 57 are a little more aware of their mortality than people at, say, 37.  It's going to take a while to heal.  And then there is this lovely anxiety that has moved into my heart, brain and stomach.  I'm scared and I have a little over two weeks to be scared - yay.  I have very little appetite but this is not really the time to shrink my belly.  It will soon be pressed into a new service!  And in addition to all these emotions, I feel guilty.  I am going to be cured on surgery day of breast cancer.  No follow up treatment will be necessary.  That part is truly amazing and I promise that just as soon as I get through all this, I will try really hard to refrain from bitching because I would not like to be seen as ungrateful here or ever.  I know I am lucky/blessed.  I have friends who have undergone torture to get rid of this disease and I have lost more than one friend to this horribleness.  Mine will be gone.  I promise all of you I will not forget that.  

In the meantime, it's real, it's looming and it's rough.  My support team is first class.  I have friends putting together a care calendar so that Hollis can work during the day while I recover.  He will take wonderful care of me.  My sister will help care for me and then reclothe my new body.  Other than the pain and the fear, this would be really fun!  Not really!  All prayers appreciated.  I promise to update when I can type.  Thanks for listening.

I'll take what I can get. . .

Last night was the 2nd Sunday Family Dinner of 2013.  Quite unexpectedly, Curtis is home right now and this matters because I was a bit trepidatious about starting them without him but these things take care of themselves and although it will be hard the first few weeks we meet without him when he goes back to sea, I am very grateful that he is here now.  We had everyone present and accounted for and ate spaghetti and meat sauce with salad and garlic bread.  These are not fancy meals.  They are meant to bring us together and they do.  Last night after we ate, Ayden and Grandma were engrossed in an iPad game called 4 Pics, 1 Word.  Hollis and Grandpa were chatting and I noticed a couple of the boys were out on the deck out front.  I went out to join them.

As a side note, I have been struggling with the empty nest thing off and on for a while now.  It's cliche but the fact is, going from being needed to not being needed is tough.  Our grocery bill is lower, but we only have each other to prepare meals for.  Our light bill is lower, but we don't have power-using, noisemakers in the house either.  We are very comfortable alone together but I miss being a mom - A LOT!

Another side note: also on the cliche list is "A daughter's a daughter for all of her life, a son's a son til he takes a wife."  Two of the boys have long term stable relationships with wonderful women whom I adore.  I think the old saying is just a bit off because adult self-sufficient men, even single ones, just don't have much need of Mom either.  There are times when this situation makes me very sad.  Where did the time go?!?  How could I have squandered all their growing up years?  I have a friend who is in her early 30's and last week she got a stomach bug.  She has a husband and two elementary school aged kids of her own but on Facebook she posted "I want my MMMMOOOOMMMMMMYYY!"  I told her that hers was a lucky mom.  My guys would no more have that thought or ever say it out loud than the man in the moon.  I know to be thankful for their self-sufficient lives.  Not every parent of a son has this and I am aware of that.  I just have to work hard to not feel left out of what's going on in their worlds.  I will never get them off my radar. They are my children and I will worry about them until I die but I also must realize that I am not on their radar in a reciprocal way.  They are guys!  But, back to last night. . .

When I went out on the deck, we chatted for a while and then the other boys came out too.  We laughed as we talked about current pig hunting stories and past adventures with friends from school years.  I kept thinking other adults would come out there too but they didn't.  I had about 30-45 glorious minutes with just my guys and it was WONDERFUL!  They don't need me anymore but I love it when they laugh together.  I need that.  

Morgan is just a few weeks away from parenthood.  He and Des are going to be so awesome at it.  Des already is and it is great to see Morgan in the step-dad role with it all coming so easily to him.  Newborns are a new area for him but he is so very happy that this little guy is coming into his world and it is great to see the joy in his eyes when he talks about assembling cribs and registering at the hospital.  No, I won't be needed again the way Des is right now but hopefully in a year or so there will be a toddler who runs to see me and wants my time.  Will that fill some of this emptiness?

. . .and then things got weird. . .

I have a saying that goes like this:  You never know when you wake up in the morning what God has planned for you.  It's not deep but some days are more of a surprise than others.  Take, for instance, this past Thursday.  I am a fairly new employee at a local credit union and I am still in training.  To be more specific, I was in Training Camp last week and the culmination of Training Camp is a field trip to one of the CU branches and lunch out.  Wouldn't you know, the branch for half of us to visit is the one that is walking distance from my house so of course, I volunteered to drive.  We took 2 cars for 6 people and left for the branch about 10:15.  I was kind of excited to see the "inside" of the branch and who doesn't love a field trip.  As fate would have it, I also gave blood that morning in the bloodmobile.  I have been giving blood at any opportunity I had since I was 17.  I give every time a blood bank comes to my place of employment and I have gone to the blood bank in New Braunfels a few times between employers so it's about as routine to me as anything.  After my donation on Thursday, I drank my sports drink and ate some peanut butter cookies.  I had had my usual breakfast so all was in order.  Back to the branch.  We were in the lobby of the branch being told by the manager of the branch about how members accessed their safe deposit boxes and it occurred to me that I probably ought to sit down.  I didn't exactly feel bad; I just wanted to sit.  Shortly thereafter, we moved into one of the offices for a demo of the video conferencing that allows members to open accounts and close on loans and I again expressed that I probably ought to sit down.  I began to feel really strange.  It was not hot in the room but I was sweating and apparently most of the color had drained from my face because my pregnant instructor took a granola bar from her purse and offered it to me.  It did not look good and I could not eat it.  A few seconds later, I fainted.  A first for me!  I was sitting down in a rolling office chair so I did not fall but I sure don't remember being moved from the office to the lobby area at all.  

I came around pretty quickly but it was too late - my co-trainees, instructor and the branch manager were all pretty freaked out.  They had already called 911, credit union headquarters and Hollis.  The fire station is only about a mile away so the fire truck and ambulance were there in very few minutes.  By this time, I was awake but shaky and apologizing profusely for being the problem child of the field trip.  The EMT's hooked me up to a heart monitor, took some blood for a blood sugar reading and took my blood pressure.  Head EMT guy said he was going to stand me up, take another BP reading and that would determine if I was going to finish the rest of the branch tour.  I flunked that test big time.  They thought it best to take me to an ER and I was not in a position to argue.  

Hollis could have come and gotten me but he would want me to get checked out.  One of my coworkers could have taken me and my car the very short distance to my house but that would have meant they had to come off the clock and I didn't think I could ask them to do that and I wasn't really sure I wanted to be home alone for the afternoon so I went with the EMT recommendation and let them put me on the ambulance.  

I have only been in an ambulance on two other occasions.  I rode with my handicapped uncle once from his nursing home to Silver City for some tests and Harris and I rode in two in one day when he was moving from Augusta GA to San Antonio when he was hurt in Iraq.  Never have I been a patient in one.  I talked to Hollis before we left the branch and assured him that I was aware and coping and that I expected the ER would put some fluids back into me and I would call him when it was time for me to go home.  He also agreed that I should go get checked out.  It's about a 15 minute drive from the branch to the New Braunfels hospital.  When you go by ambulance, you avoid the ER waiting room - you know, the one filled with people with the flu.  That was a plus.  I was seen shortly by a doctor who ordered some blood work and as I had predicted, they started an new IV (the EMT had started one in the ambulance) and I just wanted to sleep.  Once it was determined that I was in working order, I was released about 3:30.  Hollis had come to the ER and we went to get me some lunch and then went home.  The doctor said I should stay home Friday but I am headed back to work tomorrow with no lasting effects that I am aware of from the adventure.  I did call the blood bank on Friday to let them know about the "reaction" - their word, not mine and they said it would be noted.  It was not at all the Thursday I had anticipated when I woke up.  It's okay if it doesn't happen again.