tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-217946692024-03-06T22:40:49.947-06:00LollygagginFiddling around while Rome burns.Pammyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15738873962224747387noreply@blogger.comBlogger932125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21794669.post-91790208819555365272018-10-23T16:45:00.004-05:002018-10-23T16:45:56.270-05:00Nostalgia<div class="fullpost">
The other day, I was driving into Havana for some groceries. As I pulled up to the stop sign at Schrader and Main, I was hit with a wave of nostalgia so.....intense....I almost started crying. </div>
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The day was one of those bright blue days of October....the sun was warm, but there was a definite chill in the air. I was taken waaaaay back to a day after school....had to have been on a Friday. I was with Sandy, my bestest friend at the time. Even though we went to different schools, she to Havana, me to Balyki, we met in 4th grade and have remained friends all these years. </div>
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We were probably 13 or 14 and we were downtown Havana....footloose and fancy-free. Probably going to the Lawford later to see whatever movie was playing at the time. In the meantime, we had the whole afternoon/evening to just.....BE. Go get a coke and some fries at Bee's. Watch the older kids 'riding around', listening to The Beatles, The Stones, Bob Dylan, Jim Croce, The Animals...whatever was hot at the time. </div>
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The nostalgia didn't bring about a specific time....it could have been one of many, many. But it made me so very sad to realize those days were gone forever. Those days of thinking school would NEVER be over. Those days of being safe, no matter what we were doing or where we were. Those days of such GREAT music. No cell phones, no 'adult problems'....no worries.</div>
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I'd give anything to have those days back, again.</div>
Pammyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15738873962224747387noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21794669.post-43085208533456107112017-04-29T21:41:00.000-05:002017-04-29T21:51:01.172-05:00Aaaand it's breaking all over again<div class="fullpost">
It's been a while since my last post. So much has happened. Right now, I feel.....lost. I don't always feel that way. Sometimes, it's good. Sometimes, I laugh and feel pretty much like I always did. Sometimes, I have bad days...like today.<br />
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Maybe it's because of all the rain. Allllll dayyyyy loooong it's rained. Torrents. Sheets. A deluge of rain. <br />
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While ago, I was playing with the dog on the daybed. And I was talking to her. I do that a lot. I talk to her, she cocks her head and looks at me with those big liquid-brown eyes and I'm pretty sure she knows what I'm saying, even if it's about the weather or about what I'm having for supper....or about her "dad". I swear, she still remembers Dan, even though it's been almost 8 months since he died. I mention "daddy" and she cocks her head and looks at the door like she's listening for his truck to pull in. She did that a few minutes ago...and I lost it, completely.<br />
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Sometimes, I feel like I'M waiting for him to pull in. I WANT him to. Even though I KNOW that he's gone....part of his ashes are here and another part are floating somewhere in the Gulf of Mexico. But there are times I still forget that. I think he's just at work. Or at the hardware store and will be back in a few minutes. There are times that I can't WAIT to get home to tell him something...and then I remember.<br />
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I want him to see what I've done here with my little cabin. I think he'd love it as much as I do. Maybe more. I still want his approval...I want him to think I've done a good job all by myself. I want him to be proud of me. I want him to know that I'm ok. Mostly. I just don't feel....whole....anymore. A piece is gone. But people can live without a piece...or two...of themselves. It's survivable.<br />
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Sometimes...like today...it just doesn't feel like it.<br />
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Pammyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15738873962224747387noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21794669.post-80418440266312236492016-08-09T13:25:00.000-05:002016-08-09T13:25:38.062-05:00My heart....it's breaking<div class="fullpost">
I'm here to tell you....life is too short. Take that vacation. Spend time with the ones you love. Don't hold grudges. Don't waste time on drama or yearning for something better. Be happy. Before you know it, it's over. You turn around and they're gone.</div>
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My darling...my love...as corny as it sounds, my soulmate...has stage 4 colon cancer. It's essentially <em>everywhere</em>. I think I'm in shock. A month ago, he was still working...he mowed the yard. Today, he's lying on the sofa, pale,<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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weak but thankfully, pain-free thanks to Mr. Morphine. He calls them his "feelgood pills". More like "feelnothing". </div>
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We got the diagnosis less than a week ago. It feels like months already. Sooooo many things to do, arrange, think about, plan. We had no plans other than <em>I</em> was supposed to go first. At least, that's the way <em>I</em> planned it. I don't really wanna be here without him.</div>
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We were so looking forward to his retirement. He was <em>thisclose</em> to being there. We were gonna travel. Or just stay here in our little bungalow and...<em>enjoy</em> it. Do nothing...or everything. Together. Now he can't retire. If he does, he loses his insurance. </div>
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Rock, meet hard place.</div>
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If you take anything at all away from this, please....<em>please</em>....don't take those you love for granted because one day, they just....won't be there. Cherish every day...every moment. </div>
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You're born, you blink...and it's over.</div>
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Pammyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15738873962224747387noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21794669.post-40266349529817727932016-03-03T16:09:00.001-06:002016-03-03T16:09:22.822-06:00Tabouli-boola....tabouli-boola!<div class="fullpost">
<em>Rah! Rah! Siss Boom Bah! I. Heart. TABOULI!</em></div>
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Tabouli: <span>Tabbouleh is an Arabian vegetarian dish traditionally made of
tomatoes, finely chopped parsley, mint, bulgur and onion, and seasoned
with olive oil, lemon juice, and salt. Some variations add garlic or
lettuce, or use couscous instead of bulgur.</span></div>
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<span>I'm always up for trying new foodie-type things. I'll try just about anything...except bugs. I figure, (so far, anyway) there's enough great food in the world. Bugs are for Armageddon-type emergencies.</span></div>
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<span>Anywho, a couple years ago, I was at </span><span>One World (I can't get the damn link to work...google it, if you're that interested) in Peoria and decided to try an order of tabouli with my burger. Annnnd, I was hooked.</span></div>
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<span>Of course, I came home and looked up the recipe and made it. Once. It's a real PITA to make...all that chopping. But on one of my rare trips to WalMart, I found a mix that's aahhhhmazingly easy and GOOD, not to mention that it's...dare I say it? <em>Healthy!</em><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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It's in their "international" food aisle...which is about 2 feet long. The last time I was there, I bought three boxes, because of course, now that I know they have it and will buy it frequently, they'll soon discontinue it. BUT....you can get it on Amazon, too! Ya hafta buy 6 boxes at a time, which is ok with me, but if you try it and don't like it, you've got 5 more boxes...that I'll gladly take off your hands! heh The mix calls for 1.5 C of cold water, 1/4 C lime or lemon juice (I use lime in the little lime-shaped bottle or fresh) and 1/4 C olive oil, but I like to add more of each. I think it's a little too dry with just what it calls for. Then you just let it sit in the fridge for an hour or so, salt and pepper to taste and BOOM! Done.</span></div>
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<span>Now, I know it won't be for everyone. It has the consistency of...oh....coarse sand? Without the grit. But if you like tart, slightly herby-tasting coarse, ungritty sand, you'll love this. It's filling, has practically no fat, no cholesterol, reasonable carbs and fiber. LOTS of fiber. Trust me on this one. Ya might wanna skip your Metamucil on the day you try it.</span></div>
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<span>It's good by itself, but I've added sliced grape tomatoes and chopped cukes...that's good. And I've added a can of drained, rinsed chickpeas or garbanzo beans for a little extra protein. That's good, too.</span></div>
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<span>Probably green onions or scallions would be great....maybe some chopped carrots. Use your imagination. You could probably even make it a main-dish type salad by grilling a couple chicken breasts and chopping them up in it. </span></div>
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<span>Go ahead...try it!</span></div>
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Pammyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15738873962224747387noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21794669.post-59291883206089282632016-02-24T16:44:00.000-06:002016-02-24T16:44:11.109-06:00Obsessions<div class="fullpost">
<i>And other random thoughts.</i></div>
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I'm not sure I remember how to write a coherent sentence that <em>anybody</em> will be interested in, let alone how to use Blogspot again. It's been over a year. We'll see what happens.<i> </i></div>
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I'm not dead yet. In fact, I feel better than I have in...oh....probably two years, anyway. The breast is <em>still</em> not back to normal. The oncologist says that, at this point, rather than any infection, it's probably just (yea...<em>just</em>) a bad radiation injury and will probably take a loooong time to heal.</div>
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Enough about that. </div>
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So. Obsessions. I feel safe in saying that we all have a few. Quirks. Idiosyncrasies. I probably have more than my share. Some of them are good. Fr'instance, I HAVE to brush my teeth every night before bed. And when I do, I can't have anything to eat or drink after, except water. Some of them are irritating. I HAVE to have a fan on when I sleep. I don't care if it's -30 below outside...the fan's on. I HAVE to have exactly 7 ice cubes in my water bottle filled with sparkling H2O when I take it out to the hot tub. Seven. Exactly. Or I feel like the earth will tilt off it's axis or something equally disastrous.</div>
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I've often wished that I could harness or control these...obsessions or quirks a little better. Like doing more "good" things and fewer "irritating" ones. Up until this point, I haven't had much luck.</div>
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We've had a few really nice days in the last month or so. So nice, in fact, that I've taken the dog for a walk a couple times. Er...rather, <em>she's</em> taken <em>me</em> for a "pull". Now, she's a damn chihuahua. But she dang-near pulls my shoulder out of the socket when we walk. I've tried everything that the dog whisperer has recommended. <em>Nothing</em> makes her stop. She'd make a damn good sled dog...if she weighed more than 9 pounds. </div>
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We use a harness when we go for walkies. She <em>hates</em> it, but it doesn't choke her when she pulls so hard. She loves the walks though, so I have to sneak up on her, catch her and keep ahold of her while I put it on or else she wiggles loose and plants herself clear in the back of her crate, where I can't reach her. Talk about your obsessions.....evidently, humans aren't the only animals that are afflicted.</div>
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So, the last couple of days, I've gone by myself because she's gone into hiding when it's time. Now, I normally don't even <em>like</em> to walk...for exercise, anyway. I'll walk all over hell and back shopping, but to do it, just for the sake of "because it's good for me"? Nah. It's boring. I can't just...meditate or..."go blank" like I do in the hot tub. And, up until I've lost so much weight, my feet and knees just wouldn't take much punishment. I've wondered to the Zigster if I could make myself start obsessing about walking and wouldn't <em>that</em> be great? But, of course, <em>that</em> couldn't ever happen, could it? </div>
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Except....I think it <em>has</em>! </div>
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It's really cold and blustery today. The wind is awful. I had <em>no</em> intention, whatsoever, of taking a walk. I went out for my usual daily hot tub soak....and I kept thinking about walking. And I kept thinking about it. </div>
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So, here's the conversation in my head: </div>
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"I've walked every day for the last 4. It'd be kind of a shame if I quit now, right?" </div>
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"So WHAT? You don't LIKE to walk!" </div>
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"Yea...I know...but...I've done it 4 times. Now it's like...a <em>rule</em>, yes?" </div>
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"Noooo. It's not a rule unless YOU make it one."</div>
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"Yea, but..."</div>
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"FINE. Go ahead and walk. You aren't gonna like it, though."</div>
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And I didn't. Much. But...like....I <em>had</em> to do it.</div>
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Pammyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15738873962224747387noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21794669.post-69897816981765309182014-12-08T19:30:00.001-06:002014-12-08T19:30:57.496-06:00Do I dare go there?<em> Yes. Yes, I'm going there. I just can't help myself.</em><br />
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<b>Have you or a loved one been drugged, fondled or sexually assaulted by this man? If you have, call the law offices of Dewey, Cheetem and Howe NOW. We can help.</b><br />
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Now, before you villagers start coming after me with torches, let me be perfectly clear. I AM NOT condoning drugging, fondling or sexual assault. Period. I am NOT saying Bill Cosby is not guilty. I'm NOT saying he IS, either. I don't know.<br />
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What I do know is this...19...NINETEEN...women have accused him of one thing or another. Some as long as 40+ years ago. They're popping up nearly every day, now...Gloria Allred firmly plastered to most of their sides, patting and nodding sympathetically, the female version of Al Sharpton. And, of course, the civil suits are starting to multiply like rabbits.<br />
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I understand that women sometimes have a difficult time reporting rape or other sexual-type assaults. I understand the misplaced guilt they probably feel. I get it. I really do. (Don't ask me how I get it. It's none of your business, is it?) And, if any ONE of these accusations is proven to be true...well...as far as I'm concerned, castration isn't a severe enough punishment.<br />
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BUT. Every single one of these 19 women waited <em>years</em> to say anything? <em>All</em> of them? Statistically speaking, that sounds kind of....unlikely...to me. But then again, I hate math, so....<br />
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I normally go by the old adages, "If it walks like a duck and quacks like a duck, I'm pretty damn sure it IS a duck." and "Where there's smoke, there's fire." Which both mean pretty much the same thing, I guess. But this one has me scratching my head.<br />
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He was/is a stinking rich celeb. Doncha suppose he had a pretty darned easy time gettin laid without drugging them? Or was that just some kinda...kink....of his? Necrophilia, perhaps? <br />
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I dunno. 'Tis a puzzlement.<br />
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Pammyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15738873962224747387noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21794669.post-70794737566812908752014-11-25T16:06:00.000-06:002014-11-25T16:07:47.597-06:00End of an era<div class="fullpost">
<or 8="" at="" em="" end="" least="" of="" the="" years.=""></or></div>
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As of December 1, I am officially "retired". 'Course, I haven't been <i>back</i> to work since August 6. Off on medical leave.</div>
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This breast cancer has turned into a huuuuge pain in my ass, as well as my boob. Early August the breast started turning red, swelling. I was visiting my daughter (out of state) and it started bothering me worse...and worse. <i>Then</i> I started having chest....not pain, exactly.....<i>squeezing</i> is how I described it. Went to the ER, wound up going into a deadly heart rhythm, was admitted to ICU for 4 days. <i>Finally</i> made it home and two days later, the incision in my breast broke open and drained a <i>ton</i> of crap. And this was <i>five months</i> after the surgery. And the wound has been open...ever since. We're now talking about hyperbaric treatments. It's not healing because the tissue was irradiated. Oh...and we <i>still</i> don't know what the heart thing was about....still working on it. Haven't had the "squeezies" or gone into the scary rhythm again...thankfully.<br />
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I damn near lost my sense of humor. Unfortunately, I never <em>did</em> lose my appetite. </div>
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Aaaanywho, I (and any other county employee who was vested) was offered an early retirement package. It was so good, I <i>couldn't</i> turn it down. And the timing was perfect. I just don't know if I'd ever have been able to go back, health-wise.</div>
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So does this mean I'll blog more. Probably not. I just feel like....I don't have anything relevant to say. I may pop in...now and then...for a rant. heh Or, who knows? I might just start posting like crazy. Never can tell.</div>
Pammyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15738873962224747387noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21794669.post-35785467254644868232014-06-10T17:24:00.000-05:002014-06-10T17:24:28.859-05:00Blah, blah.....blah<div class="fullpost">
On the last day of radiation, I saw the doc. At that time, the nurse said, "I bet you'll be amazed at how much better you'll feel in two weeks."</div>
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It's been a week today. I'm still waiting to start feeling better.</div>
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The worst of the burn <em>is</em> starting to heal. I still have some incredibly tender spots where the skin is peeling away. But I <em>do</em> see progress there. The fatigue, though....well that's another story. There are days that I feel...as good as I did on my <em>worst</em> day BC (before cancer). That's not saying much. Then there are days like yesterday. I got up. I laid on the sofa. I went back to bed and took a nap. I laid on the sofa. I scrounged something to eat. I laid on the sofa. In other words, I did <em>nothing</em>. And I was still exhausted. I hate that. </div>
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There <em>are</em> those very rare days that I feel nearly....normal, though. Can't wait til I string a couple-three of those together.</div>
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Pammyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15738873962224747387noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21794669.post-46285673726922267892014-05-31T19:00:00.000-05:002014-05-31T19:01:00.001-05:00A bad day<div class="fullpost">
<em>Just two more treatments. Just two more treatments. Just two more treatments....</em></div>
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I keep telling myself that. It's not helping.</div>
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Woke up to a blood-spotted nightgown. The area under my arm that was badly blistered broke open in the middle of the night and started bleeding. The area under my breast/on my chest wall is open, bleeding, seeping, oozing and is so painful I can hardly stand it. The doc said I can take a Norco every two hours....I'm eating them like jellybeans and it barely keeps the pain to a dull roar.</div>
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I'm gonna say something shocking. If I EVER get breast cancer again, I believe I'd have to think long and hard about doing radiation. It's been <em>that</em> bad. Yea, I <em>know</em> I'm a big pussy when it comes to pain, anyway. And I know that this may be saving my life. But this....nobody prepared me for <em>this</em>. </div>
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I've tried every lotion and potion that the docs recommended. I've stalked out the breast cancer discussion boards to see what other women have had success with. I've tried skin-protecting sprays and gel pads. I've used lidocaine cream, aloe, silvadene. I lay in a dark bedroom, flat on my back, holding my breast up to keep skin from touching skin because it feels like I'm laying a flat iron on my skin when it <em>does</em> touch. Some things help...for a couple minutes.</div>
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I have to drug myself with a pain pill and a couple of Advil PM to get even a few hours of sleep. Even then, if I try to roll over in my sleep, my boob screams at me, "Nuh UH! If you can't sleep the whole night without moving, in one position, then you're not gonna sleep at ALL, sister!" It's really kinda bizarre. With the killer fatigue, you'd think I'd be able to sleep easily. Nope. </div>
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If I knew then what I know now, I would have found a doc that would have done a total mastectomy and just gotten it over with. I'd have been healed and on my way by now. </div>
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</div>
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My surgeon, brilliant she may be....but she does not believe in excising <em>any</em> more normal breast tissue than absolutely necessary. She would not have done a mastectomy, even if that's what I wanted.</div>
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And I suppose I understand that. I'd understand it more if I was 30 years old and had a great body to begin with. But the thing is, I'm damn near 60 years old. My breast will <em>never</em> be "normal" again. It will always look dark and scarred from both the surgery and the radiation burns. It will probably become hard and may become slightly deformed from the radiation. And it's not like my breast defines "me", anyway. I don't <em>need</em> to have breasts to make me....me.</div>
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I really thought that the last four or five weeks would have gone by fast. They haven't. I honestly feel like I've been doing this for <em>months</em>. I'm just so thankful that I was able to go to my granddaughter's graduation before it got <em>really</em> bad. If the graduation would have been this week, there's no way I could have made the trip. </div>
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Two more treatments....just two more....and then three or four <em>more</em> weeks of healing. I hope.</div>
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Pammyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15738873962224747387noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21794669.post-41201565311190560712014-05-26T14:16:00.000-05:002014-05-28T08:50:51.838-05:00This girl is on FI-YAHHHHYeaaaaa. As in 2rd degree rad burns. Under my double-d. It ain't pretty. And it hurts like a <i>biotch</i>. But I have a giant-sized tub of silvadene and a bottle of Norco and I know how to use 'em. Thankfully, the Zigster is on vacation this week, so I can remain in a pleasant, codeine-induced stupor most of the time. Which is what I intend to do. Got 6 more treatments and I'm <i>DONE</i>. The doc said that I probably haven't seen the worst of the burn yet....it accumulates slowly. Goody. He also said that the fatigue will take several weeks to wear off. Swell. So between the fatigue and the pain pills, I'll be pretty much....a slug. LOL<br />
<br />
But enough about <i>that</i>. This is Memorial Day....and as such, it would be just....<i>wrong</i>...if we didn't cook out. So da Zigster's gonna fix some killer burgers on the grill. For the last couple of months, we've been buying all our meat at
<br />
<br />
<li><a href="httphttp://www.alwanandsons.com/"> Alwan's</a></li>
....and I can't <i>believe</i> the difference! I'd noticed that the meat...and the ground beef, in particular, that I'd been buying at the grocery store, was not tasting quite....right. And the texture was...funky. Not like I remembered a good hamburger tasting....or a steak, for that matter. So I got some at Alwan's and we did a taste test. Oh. My. Gawd. There's NO comparison. The plain old ground chuck from Alwan's kicked the ass of the grocery store's ground round AND sirloin. I dunno what crap they're putting in grocery store burger....and I don't <i>wanna</i> know. I just hate it that we're been putting that crap in our bodies all this time.<br />
<br />
AAaaaanywho...(I went off on a tangent...it's the Norco...LOL) he's gonna fix burgers and I fixed some pasta salad and will fix some roasted, rosemary/olive oil french fries....and I got to use some of my fresh rosemary from my herb pot on the deck.<br />
<br />
And we'll take a minute to remember those that served our country....like the Zigster's dad. He's no longer with us, but he was in the thick of WWII....landed at Normandy, etc. I can't even imagine what he and the young men...<i>and women</i>... like him went thorough. He and millions like him who served in Europe, the Pacific, Africa, Korea, Viet Nam, The Persian Gulf, Iraq and Afghanistan ( I know I'm forgetting some) are why we have the freedoms that we do today.<br />
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So, all you veterans and families of veterans out there.....THANK YOU!<br />
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<br />Pammyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15738873962224747387noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21794669.post-22693412779434648902014-05-19T17:38:00.000-05:002014-05-19T17:38:57.328-05:00I'm too tired to think of a title<div class="fullpost">
<em>I think my brain has been irradiated, too.</em></div>
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Today was Canadian protocol number 16. That's the end of the "regular" radiation treatments. Can't celebrate yet, though...still have six more "boosts" to go....and the boosts just focus on the tumor site, not the whole breast. Thank gawd. I honestly don't think I could take anymore regular treatments. My poor boob....it's red, swollen and the skin has started to break down underneath and a little under my arm. Think of a really bad sunburn....with blistering. Yea. It's like that. Oh, and let's throw some intense itching in there...just to make it <em>really</em> interesting.</div>
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<br /></div>
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I did find some great cream for the tender skin, though. I'd been using 99% pure aloe vera gel and I do think it helped until this point. It doesn't do much for the skin breakdown, though. I went online (how on <em>earth</em> did we manage to research <em>anything</em> before the internet?) and found
<li><a href="http://mygirlscream.com/">My Girls' Cream</a></li>
. It's all-natural (so the radiation docs approve of it) and it's comparable to MiaDerm, which is also great, but it's over 30 bucks a tube. The My Girls is less expensive and you get a nice, big jar of it. And I found it...where else?....on Amazon. So there's your recommendation for the day. I hope you don't <em>ever</em> have to use it.</div>
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The fatigue. Ohhhh, my. How can I explain it? Imagine the tiredest you've ever been. Now multiply that by about 10. <em>Then</em>, ya know how you feel after you've been in a pool for a couple of hours and then you get out? Like you weigh at least 500 pounds? And you can barely <em>drag</em> yourself around? Yea. Add <em>that</em> to the tiredness. And I do think it affects your brain, too. It's like I'm....foggy. All the time. Not nearly as sharp as I'm capable of being.</div>
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<br /></div>
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But, drag myself, I will. My gorgeous granddaughter graduates from Junior High tomorrow night. And I <em>will</em> be there. My best friend and I are going and we'll be gone 3 days. It'll be a nice break from all the medical crap. And it's <em>always</em> great to see my kids, not to mention that Jill, my bestie <em>always</em> makes me feel better. Even on my worst days, she can make me laugh...I really don't know how I'd have gotten though all this without her love and support, our lunches every week and our chats back and forth on Facebook.</div>
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So, there we are. Damn near done. When this is all over, maybe I can blog about <em>fun</em> stuff again.</div>
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Yea. Lookin forward to <em>that</em>......</div>
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Pammyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15738873962224747387noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21794669.post-22025459387179098092014-05-13T17:30:00.000-05:002014-05-13T17:30:29.171-05:00Why, yes....I'll have a little cheese with my whine<div class="fullpost">
I thought I was doing 15 "regular" radiation treatments. I'm doing 16, with 6 "boosts". I know...that's only one more. But I thought I'd be done with everything but the boosts this Friday. <em>Whiiiinnnneeee</em></div>
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<br /></div>
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For another thing, I feel really, really crappy. The fatigue is just sucking the life outa me. I normally see the radiation oncologist once a week on Thursdays, but felt so bad today that the rad tech wanted me to see one today. Told the doc that I feel like my hemoglobin is down in the toilet somewhere. <em>Extremely</em> tired, palpitations and slightly short of breath. So they drew blood and I'll find out tomorrow. I normally run just a tad on the low side, anyway, so I won't be surprised if it's scary-low. <em>Whhhiinnnneee</em></div>
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<br /></div>
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And I thought the mastitis was getting better, but now I'm not so sure. The old boob (no, I'm not referring to Ziggy here) is exquisitely tender....red, swollen and just <em>not</em> pretty. Now I know how a cow feels when she hasn't been milked for a while. <em>Whhiiinnnneee</em></div>
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And another thing...what the hell's up with this f*$kin weather?? It was <em>ninety-one</em> here yesterday. I'm looking at the thermometer and it's <em>fifty-six</em> right now! I had the friggin air on yesterday and wouldn't mind a little heat today. WTF? <em>Whhiiinnnneeee</em></div>
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Awww....screw the cheese. I don't want any f*%king cheese, anyway. </div>
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Pammyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15738873962224747387noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21794669.post-17751349412108739532014-05-12T16:09:00.000-05:002014-05-12T16:09:28.804-05:00And so it goes....<div class="fullpost">
Just got home from my 11th radiation treatment. It's going....fair. Thankfully, haven't really had much "burning" and no blistering....but I do slather on the 99% pure aloe vera gel as soon as I get home and a couple times before bed. I <em>have </em> developed mastitis, though, which is quite painful. Got and antibiotic and a pain med for that, so hopefully, it'll keep it from getting worse. </div>
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I'm doing a
"Canadian protocol" of radiation. It's shorter in duration, but at a
higher dose. The studies show that there's very little difference in side effects or efficacy, so I opted for the shorter regimen. I believe I have just four more treatments at this level,
which radiates the whole breast, then six "boosts", which pinpoint the
tumor location and just radiate that small area. I'm starting my third
week today. Everyone said that it would go fast....it might feel like it
did when I'm all done...but it sure doesn't right now. It feels like
I've been doing this for <em>months</em>. </div>
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The fatigue....that's something else. Some days I feel pretty good, though nowhere <em>near</em> "normal". Others, it's all I can do to drag my carcass around the house and drive myself to and from the treatments.</div>
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<br /></div>
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I do think the depression might be a bit better. Again, not anywhere back to my old self, but at least I can talk about having cancer without bursting into tears. Usually. I didn't ask for an antidepressant. I decided I would if I thought it was getting any worse...but it didn't. So I'm holding off, for now. I'm sick of taking medicine and don't want another damn pill if I can help it. </div>
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Phhhhffffffttttt...............I'm just sick of the whole thing. </div>
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Pammyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15738873962224747387noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21794669.post-35547581610424846332014-04-24T17:22:00.000-05:002014-04-24T17:22:05.444-05:00The big, black hole of suckage<div class="fullpost">
<em>That would be where I am now. Anybody got a flashlight?</em></div>
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Remember the last word of the last post? "Yippee!" Yea. Not so much.</div>
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When I was first diagnosed, I was really pissed for a couple of weeks. Then, I seemed to just get on with it. I accepted the diagnosis and was ready to get the radiation done and over with so I could forget this whole mess. I thought it'd be like....oh...say...having pneumonia. You're sick. You take medicine. You get better/well and you go on with your life.</div>
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Then fate or Karma or <em>some</em>thing stepped in, yanked my chain and said, "Not so fast, there pilgrim."</div>
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<br /></div>
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I'm currently in the midst of a depression. I mean dePRESSion. Nothing like I've ever experienced before. The doc says it's "normal". But he still hasn't explained just <em>why</em> I should be so depressed. This cancer isn't going to kill me. I know that. At least, I'm 90% sure of it, anyway. I have a great support system and good people to talk to. Thankfully, I have excellent insurance, so medical bills aren't a big worry. </div>
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So...what's the deal?</div>
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I mean...this is really crappy. I cry at the drop of a hat. I fall asleep easily, but can't <em>stay</em> that way. I wake up 2 or 6 times a night....then I can't turn my brain off. My normally low energy is damn near at a standstill. I just feel like my life is....banal and useless. I hate it for the Zigster, too. I know this isn't how he imagined our life would go. I don't (and I don't believe I ever would) consider suicide...but the thought of dying doesn't exactly scare me. It's more like, "Eh...what the hell". I get mad at myself for thinking things like this, then I cry some more.</div>
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All the material I've read also says this is normal. But nothing really explains it. In the past, I'm afraid I haven't had much sympathy for people who say they're depressed. Not anymore. I guess if nothing else, this whole experience has taught me to have a little empathy.</div>
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I start radiation Monday. Not looking forward to it....hoping for the best, but expecting the worst. Had what they call a "dry run" today. They did everything exactly like they do with a treatment, but just did an xray instead. I don't know. Even though I'm a nurse, I've never worked in oncology, so I have nothing to compare this to, but it sure seems to me that with all the money we've thrown at research, there oughta be a better, more precise way to do this. </div>
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Ah well. So it goes. </div>
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Pammyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15738873962224747387noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21794669.post-26543414890304686752014-03-30T17:36:00.000-05:002014-03-30T17:36:15.143-05:00Cancer-free?<em>For the time being....maybe?</em><br />
<br />
Well, the surgery is over. She took out more of around where the original tumor was and 8 lymph nodes. The "more" she took out has clear margins...which means there are no cancer cells found. The nodes were all clear, too. Good news!<br />
<br />
The surgery, or rather the recovery part, was....horrendous. They had a hard time getting me awake. Once I DID manage to become somewhat alert, the vomiting started....and didn't quit. For FOUR days. Even with an anti-emetic in OR and a anti-nausea patch for 24 hours afterward. Between the ET tube that they put in during surgery and the vomiting, my throat felt like I had an awful case of strep....couldn't talk for a couple days, either. And the body aches?? Good gawd...I told the Zigster that I thought they dropped me on the floor sometime while I was out. EVERYthing hurt. It's been dang near 7 days, and I still don't feel...."right". I'm kind of fuzzy-headed, still. And I still get occasional twinges of nausea. ICK.The incisions are <em>much</em> more painful than the original lumpectomy, too.<br />
<br />
My daughter came up from St. Louis to stay a couple days and help out...she was awesome! Except she didn't handle my nausea too well. Can you say sympathetic vomiting? heh But the Zigster...he'd make a damn fine nurse. He's been incredible...a rock. I truly don't know how I'd have gotten along without him.<br />
<br />
At any rate, it's a big relief....the nodes being clear. I was pretty concerned about that. I could just see it...she'd have to keep cutting. And keep cutting. Then chemo. Then radiation. That's the problem with being a nurse....I know all the bad stuff that can happen. Sometimes, I think it would have been better to go into this oblivious. Or not...I don't know.<br />
<br />
Now, I have the radiation to look forward to. Just before surgery, the doc said that it'd take about a month to heal well enough for that to start and then I'd talk to the oncologist to see how long was recommended....a week, four weeks or six. I'm hoping for the one week, of course. But I can't imagine getting THAT lucky.<br />
<br />
I DO feel relieved. Of course I do. But this is always going to be hanging over my head. Will it come back? Will I develop it somewhere else? It'll always...<em>always</em> be in the back of my mind.<br />
<br />
But...for now....YIPPEE!!! <br />
<br />
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Pammyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15738873962224747387noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21794669.post-28654408258668785942014-03-14T18:37:00.000-05:002014-03-14T18:48:23.189-05:00If I have cancer, why don't I feel any different?<div class="fullpost">
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-llL58qMXZLo/UyOUvI0CFOI/AAAAAAAACbQ/rRYRW36ClY0/s1600/juliebreastcancertat.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-llL58qMXZLo/UyOUvI0CFOI/AAAAAAAACbQ/rRYRW36ClY0/s1600/juliebreastcancertat.jpg" height="320" width="239" /></a></div>
<i>My daughters newest tat....in honor of my fight.</i> </div>
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<br />
According to <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/K%C3%BCbler-Ross_model">Elizabeth Kubler Ross</a>, there are 5 stages of grief that one goes through when one suffers a loss or other major tragedy in their life:</div>
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Denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance.</div>
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When I was diagnosed with breast cancer, I never experienced denial....I went right straight to "anger". Boy....was I <i>pissed</i>. For maybe two weeks. Then I skipped "bargaining" and went to "depression". That only lasted about a week. Now I'm at "acceptance".</div>
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I. Have. Breast. Cancer. Period. I have it. It's mine, for better or worse...but hopefully, not for long. And I'm at the point now where I'm just....ready to get on with it. My surgery is in a little over a week...I wish it was sooner. I'm done with having breast cancer. Done. So done. And I've really not even started yet.</div>
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The Zigster has been my rock. When I told him, his first words were, "Ok. Now, what are we (he said "WE") going to do about it? Because, you know, we'll do whatever we have to". </div>
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I loved that. He didn't cry. He didn't try to avoid...which is what he <i>usually</i> does in a difficult discussion. We laugh about it. I always tell him I can see a big AVOID! AVOID AVOID! sign flashing on his forehead whenever I tell him<i>"we need to have a talk"</i>. heheh He didn't shut down. And he's been great at hearing me out since. He's listened when I've bitched and moaned. He's offered his down to earth, pragmatic advice. I think he's accepted it, too. That doesn't mean we <i>like</i> it. Not at all.</div>
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Now, I feel like I'm...back to normal...despite not even yet having the surgery or the radiation therapy. In my head, I mean. In my head, I feel like I'm back to normal. Or as "normal" as I get, anyway. For a few weeks there, I didn't feel like <i>me</i>. And now I do.</div>
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I hope that doesn't change. Because, no matter what my body looks like...whether I still have two breasts or one wonky looking one or just one...or even none....I want to still feel like <i>me</i> in my head.</div>
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Pammyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15738873962224747387noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21794669.post-3106435575658194042014-03-02T12:22:00.002-06:002014-03-02T12:22:56.437-06:00Depression<em>I thinks I haz it.</em><br />
<br />
I'm sure the weather has a lot to do with it. I'm so ready for spring. But I know that most of it is because of the cancer.<br />
<br />
It's kinda funny. I suppose I'm getting used to the idea that I have breast cancer. The first week, that was the very first thought that popped into my head when I woke up.<br />
<br />
<em>I have breast cancer.</em><br />
<br />
Now, it's like...the third or fourth thought....after <em>Damn...I hafta pee.</em> or <em>Whaaaaat? It's 6 am...already?</em> or <em>I need coffee!</em> <br />
<br />
I had an MRI last week. It was, quite possibly, the most painfully uncomfortable thing I've ever had to do/had done to me. Imagine, if you will.....lying flat on your face on a 16 inch-wide, concrete table with your head <em>slightly</em> elevated, which, in turn, bends your back...well...backwards. Your face is resting on a lightly padded concrete block. Your boobs (if you have them) are hanging down through two holes in the table, the edge of said table hitting you right under said boobs...right at the diaphragm. Your arms are extended in front of you....as far as you can stretch them...with one arm turned at an unusual angle to keep the IV line open for the radioactive contrast. Oh, and they're <em>slightly</em> elevated. Picture Superman flying with one arm hinky.<br />
<br />
Now, in this comfortable position, imagine someone poking ear plugs deeply into your ears. You're instructed NOT to take deep breaths (as if) or the machine will shut off and you'll have to do the whole thing over again. A "panic" button is placed in your hands and you are instructed to push it ONLY if you absolutely cannot stand it one. more. second. BUT....if you do push it, the whole thing will have to...you guessed it....be done all over again.<br />
<br />
A large tube-thing slides over you. If you're claustrophobic, too bad. The only thing that makes this somewhat bearable is the fact the you're face-down...you can't see said tube. A fan is turned on because it WILL get hotter than the fires of hell in there. The scan begins with a series of deafening (even with ear plugs) series of clicks, whirs, chunka-chunka-chunka chunks, more clicks, thumps and bangs.<br />
<br />
And you lay like this....all your muscles tensed, holding the position, because gawd-help-you, you're NOT going to do this shit again.....for 56 hours. Not really. It was only thirty five minutes. But it felt like 56 hours.<br />
<br />
By the time it was done, all my flabby, unused muscles were shaking like a big bowl of Jello during an earthquake. And I was SORE...for THREE days after.<br />
<br />
The good news is that were no surprises on the MRI. Which could've been better. It <em>could</em> have said...we don't know what you're talking about...you've obviously got patients mixed up. This gal does NOT have breast cancer. Her boobs are <em>pristine</em>.<br />
<br />
But it didn't.<br />
<br />
So, on I plod on this journey.<br />
<br />
I'd rather take a journey to the Bahamas. Or Costa Rica. Hell...Florida. Anywhere but here.<br />
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Pammyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15738873962224747387noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21794669.post-38795038575232466212014-02-23T18:23:00.000-06:002014-02-23T18:23:18.548-06:00 Is this thing still on?<i>Well, another year, another life-threatening disease.</i><br />
<br />
Two....no, three, now....days ago, I was diagnosed with breast cancer. Right now, I'm so fucking....pissed....I'm MAD, dammit.<br />
<br />
I don't wanna be "strong". I don't wanna be anybody's "hero". I wanna whine and bitch and moan, "Why meeeeee?" I don't want this. Give it to somebody else. Preferably somebody I don't know. Some stranger that's been a shitty person all their life. As opposed to me...who's only had brief periods of being a shitty person.<br />
<br />
Anyway, the doc says that this won't kill me. But she also said that this particular type of tumor I have is malignant only 10% of the time. So I'm not holding my breath on the not killing me part. I'm hoping for the best but expecting the worst.<br />
<br />
The plan is that I'll have a partial mastectomy with "sentinel" (whatever that is) lymph node removal, followed by 4-6 weeks of radiation....5 days a week. It'll be a huge pain in my ass. But I guess when ya consider the alternative....
I don't know if I'll be able to keep working. They say that radiation causes extreme fatigue. I can't imagine being any more fatigued than I am right now after working an 8 hour day.<br />
<br />
So, instead of giving up Lollygaggin (like I was planning), I suppose I'll turn it into a cheery, little breast cancer blog. Fuck.<br />
<br />
At least I'll have something to talk about.<br />
<br />
Did I mention that I was pissed?Pammyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15738873962224747387noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21794669.post-78704933001675255482013-02-05T16:45:00.000-06:002013-02-05T16:51:42.897-06:00Sick decor chickSo....my recuperation is progressing....<i>slooooowly</i>. Not nearly as fast as I <i>think</i> it should. 'Course, when I <i>do</i> feel pretty good, I overdo and feel like crap the next day or two.<br />
<br />
But I keep pushing it. I feel like I <i>have</i> to push it a little bit or I'll sit here and just...fade away.
I'm still not back to work. I try to do things around here that need done...or that I <i>think</i> need done. Actually, not much <i>needs</i> to be done. And the Zigster's been a <i>huge</i> help since I've been a sicky.<br />
<br />
The fact of the matter is, I'm bored silly most of the time.<br />
<br />
Fortunately, there's online shopping.<br />
<br />
UNfortunately, you not only hafta <i>pay</i> for the stuff, ya have to find something to do with it when<em>the Wells Fargo wagon is a....comin down the street....</em><br />
<br />
Uh....'scuse me. I watched The Music Man the other night. heh. I digress. Can't help it. It's the prednisone.<br />
<br />
As I was saying...ya need to find something to do with it. That's a problem when I don't have the <i .="">oomph</i> to do it myself. (Hence the title of this particular post.) heh<br />
<br />
"Ohhh, Zigggggyyyyy?..........
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Zebra's out. Antelope's in. (Faux antelope, of course. I <i>swear</i>....no antelope were harmed during the production of this decor change.) And Stewie approves.<br />
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And plastic mini's are out. Bamboo's where it's at, man. Can't believe how much the espresso blinds warmed up the grey walls.<br />
<br />
I really feel like I want to change things around for spring. I mean...it's been this way since we moved in...a whole what?...3 months or so? But again....it's gonna hafta wait until I feel better.<br />
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Ziggy's been just swell. And I <i>know</i> he's a patient man.<br />
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To a point. hehPammyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15738873962224747387noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21794669.post-11799779661942259632013-01-27T10:32:00.000-06:002013-01-27T10:43:39.314-06:00Snatched from the jaws of deathOk, so it's not <i>quite</i> that dramatic. It just felt that way.<br />
<br />
I started getting sick the middle of last week. Not SICK, exactly. I mean, I didn't <i>feel</i> sick. I just couldn't breathe.<br />
<br />
Being a nurse, of course, I put off going to the doc as long as I could. See, I know too much. I know all the bad things that not being able to breathe <i>means</i>. And I just didn't wanna hear it.<br />
<br />
I AM the Queen of Denial, ya know.<br />
<br />
When I started getting feelings of impending doom, I figured I'd better just give it up. I woke Ziggy up from a nap and said, "Take me to the hospital".
Yea, it was <i>that</i> bad. Pass the doctor and go straight to the jaws of hell...uh...I mean the Emergency Department.<br />
<br />
We got there, they took one look at me and I was whisked into the ED faster than...I dunno. I can't think of a fast enough analogy right now. My brain is pretty much in a prednisone-fuddle. Anywho, it was much faster than normal.<br />
<br />
Wham, bam, thank you, ma'am. I had a pulse ox clipped on my finger (around 80 percent...not good...not good AT ALL), O2 slapped on my face, a heart monitor snapped on my....<i>ahem</i>....ample chest, an IV stabbed in my hand. Then it rapid succession, an EKG, a chest x-ray and even an in-room echo of my heart.<br />
<br />
Surprisingly fast, the 12 year old ER doc was back in my room and this is what I heard:
"Blah, blah, blah....white count high....blah, blah, blah....COPD....blah, blah, blah....lungs don't look too bad, but there's a nodule in your right lung about the size of a marble...blah, blah, blah...don't see any local lymph involvement...."<br />
<br />
At that point, I shut off and though he hadn't even mentioned the word, CANCERCANCERCANCERCANCER echoed through my head. Kinda like in an empty barrel. Like I said, I know too much. THIS is why I didn't wanna come to the hospital. People <i>die</i> in hospitals.<br />
<br />
Of course, he went on to say that "this could be the luckiest day of your life. It might be nothing. But if it is, it's small, it's in a good place (there's a GOOD place for cancer??) and we've caught it quick."<br />
<br />
Fuck. I wasn't exactly feelin lucky, if ya know what I mean.<br />
<br />
I was promptly admitted and scheduled for a CT scan the next morning at 8. I figured it'd be noon before I got it, but was mightily surprised to see them come for me promptly at quarter til 8 the next morning. That worried me, too. It was too fast.<br />
<br />
<i>Then</i> is when everything slooooooowed down and we played the waiting game. Fine time for that, eh?<br />
<br />
Long story short, I'm ok. The pesky "nodule" is just a granuloma...old scar tissue from past bouts with pneumonia, bronchitis, etc. I caught some as-yet unidentifiable bug that started the whole process. And I <i>have</i> been diagnosed with Chronic Obstructive Pulmonary Disease...not surprising after smoking for 30 years or so.
DON'T SMOKE, KIDDIES! AND IF YOU DO, PLEASE TRY TO STOP NOW. I know it's not easy. I quit 3 years ago this month and believe me...if I can do it, ANYbody can. I have no willpower, whatsoever. Zip. Nada.<br />
<br />
There. There's your public service announcement for the day.<br />
<br />
So I'm outa the joint and back home, hopefully on the mend. I think it's gonna be slow goin, though. I still get short of breath walkin from one end of the house to the other (and we have a SMALL home). I NEED to rest, but I also NEED to move. I just NEED to figure out when to do what.
Lemme tell ya, though....I'm feelin pretty damn thankful right now. Pammyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15738873962224747387noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21794669.post-58960388895359580662013-01-05T20:33:00.000-06:002013-01-05T20:35:07.671-06:00Looks like a cathouse around here....<i>...except for the dog...and the squirrel</i>. heh
"You don't <i>really</i> need to work on the 'puter right now, do ya? Wouldn't you <i>rather</i> give me some attention?"
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This is our daughter's beau and our "granddog" Tucker.
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And this is a damn squirrel.
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Pammyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15738873962224747387noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21794669.post-90294619605956602392012-12-02T13:03:00.000-06:002012-12-02T13:03:24.018-06:00Whew!<i>Somehow, I seem to have lost an entire season.</i><br />
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Legends of the fall, hell. I don't even <i>remember</i> the fall.<i> </i>Last time I looked, I was decorating for summer....in an entirely different house.<br />
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But December is upon us, so I decided I'd better get with the program.<br />
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Stick a fork in me....I'm <i>done. </i>Decorating for Christmas, anyway. Still got a lotta shoppin to do, though.<br />
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'Course, Christmas decorating wouldn't be complete without deciding where to put da boys. Stewie chose a sunny window while Simon does his interpretation of The Owl and the Pussycat.<br /><br />
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Pammyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15738873962224747387noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21794669.post-66574015455845042072012-11-09T21:01:00.002-06:002012-11-09T21:01:32.432-06:00Pining for the fjords<div class="fullpost">
We're all moved and settled. Pretty much, anyway.
I love our new home. I love the process of making it ours...tweaking things to work...for <i>us</i>. Changing things around from the original chaos that is "just getting all the crap in the house" so it's cohesive and makes sense.<br />
<br />
That being said, I find myself gazing out the window that's over our sink...seemingly lost in thought...but really just missing the river.
Now all I have to capture my attention is the elderly (look who's talkin, here?) neighbor's backyard with the occasional fat, fluffy squirrel or JoAnn their old, stiff-legged beagle who barks just to clear her throat.<br />
<br />
I do miss the river. I miss her moods. What's she like today? Is she Dark, angry and choppy? Or as calm and smooth as a pane of glass?<br />
<br />
I miss the animals. The squirrels <i>there</i> seemed more entertaining. I miss the huge, slow-flying egrets...and the clunky, prehistoric-looking pelicans. I even miss the pesky, yapping gulls...watching them swoop and dip so gracefully. I <i>know</i> I'll miss eagle-watching this winter. Their high-pitched "chattering" in the early morning; watching as they dive and catch big catfish for breakfast, pulling them up on the ice and tearing into them with their powerful beaks. Gore on ice. Nice.<br />
<br />
I even found myself missing our little blue house with it's enormous picture window overlooking the world and the noisy, rattle-ty-squealy water pump.
So I drove by there today on my way home from work. Slowly.<br />
<br />
And I discovered something.
I still miss the river. But it's no longer "our" little blue house. Even though there's someone else there now, it looks...sorta sad. And neglected.<br />
<br />
And as I drove down our "new" street, past the front of our home...<i>ours</i>...I thought to myself, "I'm <i>home</i>".<br />
<br />
And the river, she will always be there for me. I can go see her every, single day if I want to. And next summer, we'll spend time on the boat...on <i>her</i>. And when I die...30 or 40 years from now (I say with crossed fingers)...I will join her and become <i>part</i> of her.<br />
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And I will pine for the fjords no longer.<br />
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Hey...my ancestors were Vikings. Cut me a break.<strike></strike>
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Pammyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15738873962224747387noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21794669.post-89426615822932821172012-10-01T12:09:00.001-05:002012-10-01T12:09:27.392-05:00The next time I move it damn well better be via hearse<i>And I mean it!</i>
Good gawd. How does one accumulate so much....<i>crap</i>...in 6 years?
For the last 4 weekends, we've been decrapifying in prep for the movers to arrive on October 19. Yea, we're using <i>movers</i>. They'll do it all. Except the said decrapifying.
I can't even begin to imagine what it woulda been like if we'd <i>not</i> been using a moving company. Makes me sweat just to think about it.
But I think the worst is just about done. Thank gawd.
Pammyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15738873962224747387noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21794669.post-51795446111170724292012-09-19T18:48:00.000-05:002012-09-19T21:50:26.216-05:00I'll miss views like thisThis is what I came home to tonight...
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and I'll miss views like this....<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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and this...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Yup. We're leaving Ziggy's River Rat Retreat and, once again (hopefully for the last time), becoming homeowners. We've bought a little bungalow in town...our retirement home...so to speak.
I'll miss a lotta things about living on the river. Mainly, the wildlife. And the views out my front door like those above. And the neighbors...they're all great. But, I <em>won't</em> miss sometimes living IN the river...and boating <em>out</em>. I also won't miss our miniscule bathroom. Yea. Lookin forward to having one I can turn around in.
We <em>are</em> looking forward to getting in and settled and...well...<em>settled</em>. We've loved it here, but I think we both knew it wouldn't be a place we'd call a "forever" home. A couple more weeks and I'll show ya some photos and tell ya aaallll about it.
I know. Ya can't wait, can ya?
Pammyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15738873962224747387noreply@blogger.com3