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.

2013? Bring It On!!

2012 brought great news - Morgan and Desiree are having a baby.  2013 will bring the BABY!!  For years, Hollis called me a "baby freak."  I hated it when he said it - I don't want to be any kind of freak.  The facts however, cannot be denied.  I really, really love babies.  The only ones I'm related to that have come along since I had my own all live very far away.  This will be my first nearby related baby since Curtis was born 24 years ago.  That's a pretty long wait.  Here are some of the things I cannot wait to do with this little guy just in this year alone:

Mid to late April - he will be born.  I am sure I will annoy his wonderful mother to no end going on and on about how he looks just like his father.  I will try not to but every fathers mom does this.  I will try not to bug Des with my observations.  Very soon - in the first month or so - I look forward to having that little guy asleep on my chest, just like my babies used to do.  I love it when you pick up a newborn and the pull up their knees and put their arms up over their heads to stretch.  They grunt and squeak - it's just adorable.  My grandson will do that and I will treasure it.

May or June - he will come to my house on Sundays for family dinner.  I will have to share him but he will be here with his Papa and uncles and great grandparents and I will savor it.

July or August - he will giggle.  Smiles will be all over the place but sooner or later he will laugh out loud.  I hope it's when I lift him over my head and lower him toward my face - that used to make his dad giggle.  It will bring back great memories.

September or October - he will be trying to crawl and Ayden will be hauling him around.  I can see this in my mind.  Ayden and Ashton will be great big brothers but at age 9, Ayden will be the one to hold him on his hip and this little guy will pat his brother and smile.  Once he's mobile though, he will chase and be chased by his brothers - maybe up and down my hallway.  That will be a hoot!

November or December - he will start eating food.  I will sit in front of his high chair and every time I move the spoon toward his face, I will open my mouth wide.  I won't be able to help myself - I've tried with other babies.  Oh, and when I pat him after a bottle, I will burp - I always do.

I'm not sure when he will first spend the night at my house but I hope it will be a very regular event.  I want to love him and watch over him and just let him know how glad I am to have him in my life.  I hope he will come to feel the same way about me.  I figure it will be 2014 before he says "Omi" or "Papa" but he will and it will be very hard to not give him anything he wants in the whole wide world when he does - except soda.  I won't give him soda.

Baby Wooldridge - 16 wks

Prior to his arrival, there will be sewing - lots of sewing!  I will crochet for him and craft for him.  That will be pretty fun too.  People keep asking me how many quilts one baby needs.  I shall endeavor to discover the correct number.  

So I have some events mapped out for the year.  They are the things I anticipate when I am going to sleep at night.  I hope each of you has some events mapped out.  Maybe you plan to travel or change jobs.  Maybe you're going to move or learn something new.  I plan to bond with a baby - because I am an enthusiast of the highest order when it comes to babies!  I wish you all a wonderful new year.

Advent and Acolytes

Today is the 4th Sunday in Advent.  All but the center candle is lit on the Advent Wreath.  There were no greens yet in the sanctuary but there was our usual Eucharist.  There is a family of 3 at St. Margaret's.  The dad of the family is deployed for a year to Kuwait.  The mom and the 10 yr old daughter of the family hold down the home front and we are all watching Dakota grow up.  We like to think we are keeping an eye on them for the dad while he's gone but they seem pretty able to cope on their own.  This morning just after the procession of one priest, one acolyte and two lay Eucharistic ministers, while we were still singing the processional, I noticed Dakota had her mom engaged in an earnest but quiet conversation.  Then Dakota left her mom's side and tiptoed to the sacristy.  Shortly, she emerged in her acolyte gown and filled the empty acolyte spot on the side of the church that didn't have one.  I glanced around the congregation to see several knowing smiles.  When we went to take communion, I asked Mom if that had been Dakota's idea.  She said "Oh yes.  She asked me why there wasn't a second acolyte.  I told her whomever was scheduled must not have been able to make it and she said 'But Mom, I'm here!' so I told her to go get vested."  One little instance of awareness.  One little act of initiative.  A willingness to serve without being asked.  The knowing eyes of others present at the worship.  It was small but it impacted me deeply.  It all matters.  Maybe just to those of us who noticed, but it matters.  I caught up with Dakota after the service.  I told her that I really appreciated her role in the service this morning.  I told her that back in the 1970's, I was the first girl to be allowed to acolyte at my church.  She could not even grasp that.  Today I am just thankful that I saw an act of service by a 10 year old girl.  May she never loose her willingness to serve.

Adventure in Alabama

Katelyn told us all about a year ago that she thought she'd graduate in August 2012 and to begin planning for the event.  I waited until about a month ago to get really serious about getting there.  I missed her high school graduation because the dumb ol' Army scheduled Harris' Purple Heart Ceremony for the same day back in 2008, but I digress.  Having completed all the required courses for a Bachelor of Science degree in Psychology, Kate was planning to walk the stage on Saturday, August 4, 2012 at 9:00 AM.  I was determined to be there.  A few moments on the Southwest Airlines website made it clear I would not be flying to Birmingham and then driving to Tuscaloosa.  If I wanted to go, it would be in my car.  I started casting about for fellow travelers as soon as I realized I was looking at 13 hrs of driving - EACH DIRECTION!  Curtis thought going along was a great idea and Clayton also agreed.  I know that the entire clan would loved to have gone along but these guys had the clearable calendars so they were in.  

At the 5 hour mark of the designated route was Tyler - bingo! - housing! Mom graciously waited up very late on Thursday night for the 3 of us to arrive after having worked all day.  She got up and fixed breakfast for us Friday AM and sent us on our way.  She then drove to Houston, picked up my brother, Currie and they flew to Birmingham and rented a car.  We drove 8 hours.  Actually, we drove 4 hours to Vicksburg, Mississippi and took a break.  I got us some fried chicken to take to the Military Park and in we went.  Mom had reminded me that her great-grandfathers name was on the Wisconsin monument in the park in recognition of his service in the Civil War.  We began the driving tour and Clayton and Curtis were immediately entranced.  We stopped at the huge Illinois marble monument and they took photos and video.  It's pretty impressive in it's construction and there are bats living in the recesses of the carvings so it was cool to see.  We stopped at a couple more spots along the way but then we got to the Wisconsin memorial.  The names of all the soldiers who served were in bronze on plaques covering well over 50 feet of wall space but each group was alphabetized so we started at opposite ends and searched for Peter Peterson - I won!!  The boys saw their 3X-great-grandfathers name on a Civil War monument.  It was somewhat indescribable for them.  Vicksburg National Military Park needs more time than we had to devote to it that day.  I hope someday they will go back and see all it has to offer.  We had to eat our chicken and hit the road.

 

Laura and Kate at Baumhowers

Matt & Jordan

Clayton & Curtis

Four hours later, we were in Tuscaloosa.  Lots of family had already arrived and when Mom and Currie rolled in from Birmingham, we all went to dinner.  Kate was so happy to see us all and just glowed with excitement.  We had lots of fun and great conversation.  After dinner, some grown-ups went back to the hotel to crash and some grown-ups went out with the graduate and her entourage.  They called it a night just before 4:00 AM.  

One Happy Graduate

Kate had to be at pre-graduation festivities at 7:30 so she was up and gone pretty quickly.  The rest of us go to the Coleman Coliseum at 8:20, the procession began at 8:30 and the ceremony began at 9.  There were about 1,500 graduates.  A few hundred PhD's, a few hundred Masters and several hundred bachelors candidates who all paraded across the stage to accept the symbols of their accomplishments. The cheers for Katelyn's name were the loudest due to a really big entourage sitting all together.  It was loud and great.

After graduation, we all caravanned to Carmelo's for brunch.  Great meal, lots of laughing, a glowingly beautiful graduate and beautiful weather made it all perfect.  Now to go all our separate ways - The Marston's and McLaren's back to Fairhope, Matt and Jordan back to Chattanooga, Mom, Currie, Laura, Kate and Lex to Birmingham to see UAB where Lex is now attending and us back to Texas.  We took a rest first.  I even tried to go to the only quilt shop in Tuscaloosa but it is closed.  It is full of fabric and tools and patterns, but it is closed (I was sad about that).  The boys and I left about 4 and drove back to Vicksburg.  Since the park was closed, we did the next best thing.  We went gambling on a casino boat.  We left with eleven dollars and change more than we went in with and then had a bite at Waffle House.  We got to Mom's house about 1:30 and I woke up about 7:40 this morning.  The boys got up and we went to Kathy's to eat breakfast and visit.  They left for church and we drove 5 more hours to get home.  We went a little over 1,600 miles in just under 72 hours.  It was so much fun and all three of us are so very glad we went.  Thanks Kate, for such a great celebration of your awesome accomplishment!

Birthday post post script

Caroline and me in Gruene

Fireworks

Kitten tossing is kinda fun!

My beautiful boys and me - Harris, Clayton, Morgan, Curtis

Fireworks

One of two beautiful plants I got for my yard from my in-laws.

Here are some photos from Birthday weekend. . .

Barrett, Curtis, Chris, Clayton, Morgan and Harris

I am a Card Deck

I turned 52 last Saturday.  That's the card deck part.  If I were incredibly clever I could come up with lots of card deck references but 52 and card deck are about as far as I got with that idea.  Instead, I'll just recount my birthday adventures.  I managed to drag things out for several days.  On Thursday, my office had a pot luck to wish me a happy birthday and as is the custom at The SCOOTER Store, my desk was decorated with confetti, streamers and balloons.  It was quite festive looking.  I loved it!  Friday was birthday event free unless you count all the people asking me what I had planned for my birthday weekend.  

This wonderful teacher I met during my last year of teaching named Caroline has become a dear friend.  Her birthday is June 29 and a couple of years ago we began a tradition of going to our favorite spa for facials and hairstyles as our co-birthday celebration.  This year we got appointments for 12:45 so we decided lunch first would be the best plan.  Morgan was working at the Gristmill so we picked Gruene as our first destination.  Morgan has been anxious to make me a Bloody Mary since I discovered that I love Bloody Mary's so I had one of those and Caroline had a 'Rita.  She and I split a fried shrimp plate which was delish and for dessert, Morgan made us birthday shots called Captain Morgan Undertows.  It was a couple of different colors, very sweet and I would have had another but I didn't think to ask.  I am new to the world of shots. So far, just in the last nine months or so I've had a Vegas Bomb (okay, 2 of those), a Purple Gecko and now this Captain Morgan yumminess.  I believe I will continue to explore shots.  I like 'em!  But I digress. . .

Caroline and I wandered in and out of an antique store in Gruene and then went to Gaston's.  We came out with naked, well moisturized faces and fabulous hairstyles.  We hit one more boutique and then headed home.

When the boys were little, it was fairly common for my birthday event to be dinner and the summer blockbuster movie.  This year we did that again.  Morgan, Harris, Kristin and Curtis brought pizza to the house and then we went to see Brave.  Clayton had to work at the rodeo so even though he came by the house for a few minutes, he didn't get to go to the movie with us.  Brave is wonderful!  I loved it.  It proved once again that I am really a 10 year old trapped in a 52 year old body when I turned down an invitation to go see Magic Mike with a bunch of grown up women in favor of seeing Brave with my kids.

Sunday family dinner was hamburgers and fireworks.  Harris is all about the fireworks and this year, he was actually able to purchase some - they were banned last year.  He had noise makers and pretty shooters.  It was a figurative and literal blast!  Clayton brought Shelby to meet the family.  Barrett and Erin were there and so were Chris and Casey.  I took a few photos of the guys and Curtis took some fun video.  I went to sleep both Saturday and Sunday a very content birthday girl.  I think if I were one of those people who begins to hate birthdays, it would have happened by now.  I truly enjoy mine.  Even the card deck one was great.

Today marks the 25th anniversary of the third time I gave birth.  It is time to tell the last delivery story even if it's about the next to last kid.  Harris was late like Morgan - maybe it's an April thing.  I was almost two weeks past my due date and awfully tired of the whole situation.  I had had an ultrasound test at 20 weeks along to verify my due dates and at time learned that boy #3 was on his way.  By now, Hollis, Morgan, Clayton and I all had middle names that start with L.  Finding an L middle name for this boy is easy enough - my grandfather's first name was Lyle.  He did not like it much.  He went by Steve to most other adults but I can still hear my grandmother exclaiming "Lyle!" when he used colorful language that she did not like.  We had a middle name.  The first name was trickier but I'll get to that in a bit.  I went to see my doctor the day Harris was born.  It was first thing that morning but I'll never forget what he said after my examination.  "Something is eminent."  No kidding, Dr. Ryder?!?  Something is eminent?!?  I am two weeks overdue with child #3 in 4 years and something is eminent?  He was not mistaken.  Hollis came home from work at his usual time that day and we took Morgan and Clayton over to his mom's house for some dinner and great-grandparent time.  If I dominoed in the next day or two, it would be a while before they got fussed over (and at) by Paw and Gregie.  Feeling certain I was in labor, I didn't eat but Hollis and the boys were well fed.  We then took the boys home and put them to bed.  Willis followed us home and we left for the hospital.  I arrived about 7:30 in active labor and we settled in.  My dear friend Suzy met us at the hospital and stayed for all the fun.  Dr. Ryder broke my water when I was about 7 cm and at 10:34, boy #3 made his entrance.  No drugs, no drama - there he was.  Once he was all cleaned up and in my arms, Hollis and I knew we had to nail down the name thing.  There were two choices:  Nathan Lyle or Harrison Lyle.  We did the only thing we could think of - we flipped a coin!  Heads would be Harrison, tales would be Nathan.  Heads, and Harrison, it was.  Paw's grandfather was named Stanton Harrison and he so wanted us to use the name. It always cracked me up that he pestered me so about using the name and then proceeded to call the kid Hayden for a couple of years.  I didn't get to use the same wonderful hospital for Harris that I had for Clayton but I had made the decision not to rush home in the morning as I had done before.  I would allow the hospital to care for me not just one, but two nights.  Dumbest plan I ever made.  I got tangled in the sheets my first night and due to some pretty bad lower back pain, I couldn't get out.  The nurse was not much help.  My overall care was just not what I would have gotten at home.  My mom arrived from Houston the next day to take over with the big boys and she brought them to meet the baby.  Morgan at age 4 was all about this new baby.  Clayton at 18 months was quite indifferent.  I really wished I had gone home.  The next morning as I was preparing to check out, the nurse came in and rolled my baby out of the room.  She said I was required to attend a new mothers class.  She said my current experience did not exempt me from the class.  She even said that I would not be allowed to have my baby back or check out until I had attended the class!!  So I sat there crying as they told me how to hold him, nurse him, change his diaper, put him in a car seat and care for him in general.  When I had the chance to go to a different hospital for #4 - I grabbed it!  I still managed a drug free delivery and took home a very healthy baby.  He was the biggest of the 4 at 9 lbs, 8 oz and was a very sweet east baby.  I love thinking about their "birth" days.  The memories are of hard work that results in the most precious prize of all.  I am blessed beyond blessed!