Monthly Archives

January 2014

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Don’t Fear The Lemons

I’ve been resting, and trying to crazily distract myself from the MRI on Saturday at the same time. I am a living contradiction. How human of me. I feel calmer than normal about this MRI. I’m not feeling more confident, I just feel like I don’t know what life is going to bring me. My fate. So many people have come before me, fighting cancers and illnesses, and sometimes they win, and sometimes they don’t. Sometimes the people who survive aren’t the ones you’d expect. I can work as diligently as possible, exhausting as many treatments as I can afford, and that is literally all I can do. And you know what, I may find that nothing will stop this monster in my brain. Or, randomly, one of these scans we will realize that he has not been growing and that all of my very hard work has been panning out. In the meantime, I have been having so much fun. Not like I’ve been out doing crazy activities, but I have been really enjoying each moment. I’ve been driving more; I’ve expanded my radius to approximately 5 miles from our home. I feel free, and happy, and calm when I drive. I don’t talk on my phone, or check text messages. I keep the radio on low, the vents are on low. I avoid high traffic times of the day, and I use back roads. If the posted speed limit is 35 mph, I’m plugging along at 30-33 mph. That reminds me, next time there’s a slowpoke in front of you, please think of people like me. I pull over when there’s someone behind me, because I’m cognizant of what it’s like to be stuck behind a Sunday driver, but there are those that are scared, and just need…

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It’s Deep, Not Dark

Operation MRI distraction is exhausting!  This morning I drove to the gym only to get bored within 30 minutes of my interval run. I headed home, and since the fog had melted into sunshine, I snagged a hat and decided to detail my car. Halfway into it I stopped for pills and venom, then continued through the final hour and a half.  When Rosemary was gleaming like new, I grabbed my garden tools, stretched on my pink garden gloves, and got to weeding. I transplanted, I trimmed, I started digging a hole to China, which made me wonder, do they say they’re digging to America? As I’m sure you guessed, I’m not actually digging to China, just trying to transplant a massive dinosaur plant. With Dan working 12 hours today, and tomorrow, I have to be my own muscle maker.  What makes me nervous is how sore I am, and it isn’t even the ‘next day’ yet. People are always obsessed with the next day pain, but there’s something about immediate pain too. That immediate stuff shouldn’t be discounted. When the sun was setting and Emma and my digits were numb, we moved back inside to clean. Then, of course, as with the episode of exercise, I lost interest and settled into the couch for a Netflix streaming movie. Somehow a documentary on the afterlife drew me in. Probably because I can’t get away with death subjects with Dan. I’m curious about the concept of an afterlife, of religions, and theories; I don’t find it macabre or dark, just fascinating. Not true for Dan, and I respect him, so I tend to watch those things on my own. The documentary was pretty fluffy, I was hoping for a wider spectrum of voices and experiences, but oh well.  I’ll leave you…

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Dog Day

Life is more fun with a copilot. Friends are laughing right now because I used to hate having Emma in the car. I didn’t want the dog smell. Still don’t actually. But, as I calm down, and just go with the flow, I end up enjoying life more. Today I took Emma with me to use a credit at Swanson’s Nursery, then I took her to the dog park to sniff some bums (her favorite pastime).   We walked down to Golden Gardens because I was craving the feeling of sand beneath my feet. Afterward we grabbed an herbal tea and a dog bone. We were rewarding ourselves for our accomplishments. Her for a dozen tennis ball retrievals, and me for my longest drive in the past 2.5 years. This is day three of Operation MRI Distraction. I have it scheduled for February 1st at 7:30 am. Since the scheduling I have given myself a task each day. It started with driving myself to the gym for an hour long cardio session and time in the sauna. The next day I used a gift certificate for a mani/pedi buff. Today was a dog day, pushing myself to get Emma to meet new friends. Thank you for all of the kind comments on the blog lately. I think you guys are all crazy. I’m just a middle aged curmudgeon. I don’t see what you see. I’m off to do my venom. Hope you all are getting to enjoy the beautiful sunshine. It is marvelous!

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The Real Story

Ha. I did it! I’m posting, and it’s a Friday. Boom. Since the beginning of the blog a few people have encouraged me to turn my story into a book. Many have recommended just pulling together some of my blog posts, probably just because it would be an easy solution, and I appreciate that. The problem is that from the moment of that first headache, I have edited my story. Big key pieces. Major details. A few friends, and of course family, know bits of the truth, but only Danny and I know everything. Of course, as I have lived deeper and deeper into this diagnosis, I have lessened my editing, but there are (what I believe to be) significant details that people need to know in order to truly understand our lives, and this journey. I started writing my story last year, and remained with only a page and a half until recently. It has been hard to feel motivated. The whole concept was overwhelming, in fact it was emotionally draining. The catalyst, my inspiration, was my new desk. My grandma is now living in a physical rehab facility, she can no longer live alone, so I became a proud owner of a really cool roll top desk. Somehow, with all the little compartments, and drawers, and the neat way it closes to hide all my junk, I get excited to write. I even came up with the perfect plan, and it has been working. I’m writing a page each day, M-F. The thing that people don’t realize, can’t comprehend (not their fault), is that this story – although I’ve been writing it for years – is my life. Fingers have been in my brain. Literally. A few times. It’s emotional. It’s shocking, and almost unbelievable. The tricky part…

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Resolute This…or That

You know what I love about this time of year? The obsession with getting healthy. It’s all over the media right now, and it’s really fun to learn the tricks (or scoff at the laughable ones). I wish we saw on TV, year-round, nothing but healthy stories; it’s very inspirational. I’m not one for new year resolutions, I mean come on, I can’t even seem to do a post each Friday, that lasted about a week. Laying in bed last night, I thought to myself, smiling, “Life is hilarious, and I am a goober.” It all started in the morning with me trying to copy the TV with some floor exercises using a broom handle. It was absurd; I was ridiculous. I had so much fun, though, and my butt hurts like crazy. So that’s a great sign. I don’t know if you’ve heard this (or noticed it yourself), but our bodies are not perfectly symmetrical. Some, less so than others. I remember in college, for the first time, I looked in the mirror over my shoulder while I was wearing a bathing suit. I had wanted to see what my butt looked like (big mistake). To my horror, I realized that I had a saddlebag under my left butt cheek, but my right side did not. Major disappointment. That led me to analyze my whole body, and sure enough, my left breast (gross, I know, but necessary for the argument) is, to the naked eye, bigger, and my left foot is a half shoe size bigger. Happily, my hands seem to be the same size, along with my eyeballs and ears (huge relief). Anyway, how did I even get on this tangent? Maybe the floor exercises? Must have been. Although I love to run, I’ve never been into isometrics,…

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Wishful Thinking

I haven’t had the energy to write an in depth post for awhile. I’m not sure if it’s the fact that I’ve been bone tired from the holidays and stress of travel with the added craziness of my Grandma’s accident, or perhaps it’s correlated with the treatments I’m doing. Unfortunately, I’ve been noticing an increasing amount of weakness on my right side, along with increased numbness, also more vertigo and dizziness. And I don’t mean a little bit. I like to think that it’s the effect of my pills, serums, and such, attacking those pesty lingering tumor cells. We will know for sure in the beginning of February. We can only schedule an MRI 30 days in advance due to insurance policy. We’re planning for February 8th, a Saturday. We’ve gotten in the habit of doing the scans on the weekend so that Dan doesn’t have to take any time off. This MRI will also be the first one with my new health insurance. I have no idea how much of it will be covered, which of course is another new cause of stress. Typically, my MRI bill is around $5500 (each). There’s nothing I can do about it, though, so I have to get the scan and if it isn’t covered I’ll just quote Steve Carell. Am I scared with the changes in my body? Sure. You bet. But what can I do? All I can do in times like these is keep chugging along, take things one step at a time. Live day by day. My life might be unique to the general population, but it’s not unique in the cancer world, and certainly not the brain tumor world. Sometimes that fact alone gives me inspiration. There are so many fighters out there, and even with the fear…

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