Uh yeah. I did. That's why it took 3 days of agonized scratching on door jambs before I asked you to rub some lotion on my (badly sunburned) back. I'll be 47 in a few weeks. I've put on a few pounds (how much is a stone? I think I'll start counting them - maybe I've only put on a couple...) in the last few years. I am sad to report that I weigh around 35 pounds more than after I lost the "baby" weight associated with the Pumpkin.
Could 200 be the new 150? Do I here 135? Yikes. I am NOT saying that I weigh in excess of 200 pounds. I don't own a scale.
At any rate, I'm not at all certain that "Did you know you have a roll back here?" is acceptable marital communication. I suspect it is on the same page as "Is everything okay, because I've noticed you've put on a lot of weight lately?" Sadly, yes, that is an actual recent quote from the clearly misnamed PC. Just my little cross to bear. Grrr.
I thought I'd need some momentuous occasion to blog again after so long but I was wrong. I just needed to vent.
Sunday, September 7, 2008
Friday, March 14, 2008
A Quarter Without Cancer
Prince Charming had the first of his post-surgery quarterly screening visits yesterday. The results were relayed to him today, by his surgeon. His lungs are clear. This is the news we need to hear every quarter for three years, biannually for two years, and annually thereafter. This is really good news. In my translation it means this: PC is cancer-free for this quarter. I need the cancer-free label (don't forget - this blog is all about me) I know he craves it as well. Until June we are once again permitted just to lead our normal lives. Who would have thought two intelligent adults could be so grateful for too much work, too little play, and one very small and spirited toddler. I, for one, am feeling an irrepressible bubble of well being. Right now, today, we are on track and all is well.
During my absence from the blogosphere my fabulous friend LawyerMama has taken many beautiful picture of the spirited toddler - most of them portray him as, literally, breathtakingly beautiful. Her pictures of my baby take my breath away.
So I am looking forward to easing back into the blog thing (reading and posting)... without a huge black storm cloud directly over my head. There may be a storm coming but its not even showing up on the Super Duper local news radar. That's just the way we like it around here.
During my absence from the blogosphere my fabulous friend LawyerMama has taken many beautiful picture of the spirited toddler - most of them portray him as, literally, breathtakingly beautiful. Her pictures of my baby take my breath away.
So I am looking forward to easing back into the blog thing (reading and posting)... without a huge black storm cloud directly over my head. There may be a storm coming but its not even showing up on the Super Duper local news radar. That's just the way we like it around here.
Saturday, January 19, 2008
New Year, No Topic
I have done nothing but work since December 30 and am now out of town for an arbitration proceeding. PC successfully completed his radiation treatments with absolutely NO side effects. His surgery is scheduled for February 1. Someday I start blogging regularly again, but this is not the day.
Sunday, October 28, 2007
And so it Continues
PC's appointment Thursday went well. The physicians at Duke were not on board with our brilliant plan to have the radiation treatments locally. So they'll give us the final treatment plan on Thursday but the treatment will take place at Duke. PC's brother lives near there so he'll stay with them. The tentative plan looks like six weeks of radiation Monday through Friday and PC should be able to come home on weekends. Then a four week rest, then surgery and recovery. They did a lot of tests this week (including a biopsy) and the test results could change the tentative plan. We like plans. We can deal with this one.
Wednesday, October 24, 2007
And so it Begins
PC has an appointment with an Orthorpedic Oncologist at Duke University tomorrow morning. He should come home Friday or Saturday with a treatment plan for his radiation and/or chemotherapy that can be administered by our local Navy hospital. So that's good. But scary. He is starting cancer treatment. He has cancer. Thank you sincerely to all of the people who commented with good wishes and advice. I'm sure I'll keep you all "posted." OMG that is so lame. I swear I used to be funny.
Monday, October 22, 2007
The C Word (not that one - get your mind out of the gutter)
I had to take my middle son T to traffic court on Friday. Legally, being 18, he didn't need me. But I'm a lawyer and his mommy so I went. We sort of enjoyed watching the parade of defendants before us (we were the last case heard). I was amazed at how many people say they had to drive 80 miles an hour in a 55 mile an hour zone because they were unfamiliar with the area. It amused us both and required that the bailiff shush us a couple of times. The result was perfect - traffic school followed by a dismissal of all charges. We left the courthouse in a very good mood, chatting annd laughing in a way that doesn't happen all that often between me and that particular child.
On the way to the courthouse T had been trying to explain to me that, for him, Virginia is cursed. He claims that every time something good happens to him here it is immediately followed up by something ten times worse. I don't think Virginia itself is cursed but Friday certainly followed that pattern.
After court, we went downtown to my office, our plan was for T to help me move some boxes and then to go to lunch somewhere away from the house where he hadn't been before. Mom and son bonding.
We called PC on the way to give him the good court results and he interrupted me to say he'd received the results of the MRI he'd had the day before on his knee. (The results were not supposed to be availabe for two weeks.) All indications are that PC has a very large cancerous mass on his leg. Possible diagnosis are sarcoma and nerve sheath tumor. I'm not sure what we did in the world before google. There are only two Navy Orthopedic Oncologists on the East Coast and they are both deployed so we'll find out today whether he'll be going to Richmond (two hours north) or Duke (around three hours south) for his treatments. The treatment will be radiation and/or chemotherapy to shrink the tumor followed by surgery. There are two schools of thought on whether or not they'll biopsy first - one school of thought is that the rapid growth (it has been eight weeks at the most since he noticed it and it is about the size of half of a brick) indicates it is cancerous and it should not be messed with at all until the surgery; the other school of though it that a needle biopsy won't disturb it. The only good thing about this tumor is that it appears to be "well-circumscribed" so I'm for not messing with it.
PC is the kind of person who simply puts something bad out of his mind. He left for work before dark where he no doubt did his daily two hour workout. He says this is going to be fine although the rehab will be "a pain." He thinks if his treatment is in Richmond he'll just drive himself up there two or three times a week. If its at Duke he'll stay with his brother. No big deal. Except for all his googling I don't think he gets what radiation and/or chemotherapy can do. Superman is about to run into Kryptonite.
And then there's me. I am the type of person who must think through the worst option all the way to its bitter end. All the way through. Its how I deal with things. They hardly ever turn out as bad as I've imagined and that's a comfort. Except for the times that they do...
Edited at 11:34 p.m. to add: Today the efficient Navy medical machine was able to get PC a consult in DC for NOVEMBER. Excuse me - what do they need, a whole brick. I've been madly googling looking for an Orthopedic Oncologist who accepts Tricare (PC, as an active duty military person is not allowed to leave the network of Tricare physicians). I found ONE. Granted, I was only looking in our Tricare region (the North region which doesn't make much sense but I didn't draw the boundaries). His doctor has calls in to two other doctors who haven't called back. WTF. His referral uses words like "urgent" and "paramount." But he can't get an appointment.
Oh yeah, and this type of cancer... it often comes from exposure to radiation. All those years he spent repairing nuclear subs don't appear to have done much for him. But he was defending our country... keep your flags waiving. Mine is beginning to droop.
On the way to the courthouse T had been trying to explain to me that, for him, Virginia is cursed. He claims that every time something good happens to him here it is immediately followed up by something ten times worse. I don't think Virginia itself is cursed but Friday certainly followed that pattern.
After court, we went downtown to my office, our plan was for T to help me move some boxes and then to go to lunch somewhere away from the house where he hadn't been before. Mom and son bonding.
We called PC on the way to give him the good court results and he interrupted me to say he'd received the results of the MRI he'd had the day before on his knee. (The results were not supposed to be availabe for two weeks.) All indications are that PC has a very large cancerous mass on his leg. Possible diagnosis are sarcoma and nerve sheath tumor. I'm not sure what we did in the world before google. There are only two Navy Orthopedic Oncologists on the East Coast and they are both deployed so we'll find out today whether he'll be going to Richmond (two hours north) or Duke (around three hours south) for his treatments. The treatment will be radiation and/or chemotherapy to shrink the tumor followed by surgery. There are two schools of thought on whether or not they'll biopsy first - one school of thought is that the rapid growth (it has been eight weeks at the most since he noticed it and it is about the size of half of a brick) indicates it is cancerous and it should not be messed with at all until the surgery; the other school of though it that a needle biopsy won't disturb it. The only good thing about this tumor is that it appears to be "well-circumscribed" so I'm for not messing with it.
PC is the kind of person who simply puts something bad out of his mind. He left for work before dark where he no doubt did his daily two hour workout. He says this is going to be fine although the rehab will be "a pain." He thinks if his treatment is in Richmond he'll just drive himself up there two or three times a week. If its at Duke he'll stay with his brother. No big deal. Except for all his googling I don't think he gets what radiation and/or chemotherapy can do. Superman is about to run into Kryptonite.
And then there's me. I am the type of person who must think through the worst option all the way to its bitter end. All the way through. Its how I deal with things. They hardly ever turn out as bad as I've imagined and that's a comfort. Except for the times that they do...
Edited at 11:34 p.m. to add: Today the efficient Navy medical machine was able to get PC a consult in DC for NOVEMBER. Excuse me - what do they need, a whole brick. I've been madly googling looking for an Orthopedic Oncologist who accepts Tricare (PC, as an active duty military person is not allowed to leave the network of Tricare physicians). I found ONE. Granted, I was only looking in our Tricare region (the North region which doesn't make much sense but I didn't draw the boundaries). His doctor has calls in to two other doctors who haven't called back. WTF. His referral uses words like "urgent" and "paramount." But he can't get an appointment.
Oh yeah, and this type of cancer... it often comes from exposure to radiation. All those years he spent repairing nuclear subs don't appear to have done much for him. But he was defending our country... keep your flags waiving. Mine is beginning to droop.
The Rabbit Lived (and that's a good thing)
I have spent the majority of the past three weeks noting my mounting symptoms of early pregnancy. Not with joy and anticipation but more like resignation and dread. I know how these things happen. Although it would have been my fourth unplanned pregnancy. It doesn't really matter how; it happened. (In my defense though someone took my last pack of birth control pills out of my bathroom. I suspect one of my son's friends. I don't know - I only look in the stupid box once a month to pull out a new pack. And then, voila, the new pack was gone. Along with its handy dispensing device.) Damn it. It took nearly a week for the cracker jack Navy Medical system to provide me with my six month refill. So I warned PC. This one was all on him. He could choose to abstain, buy some condoms, be a selfish bastard for a whole month, it was all up to him. I've never considered any form of permanent birth control because there has never been a day I could truly say never again. Including today. PC's take on the whole thing is that we only had one accident in 16 years and are therefore unlikely to have another.
I never had a positive pregnancy test - I had several negative urine tests. And the symptoms kept mounting. Constant nausea (no vomiting as long as I ate pretty much 24 hours per day), breast tenderness, fatigue (I fell asleep every day from 2:00 until 3:15 or so - and yes I am at work then), leg cramps that made me wake up screaming in the night, constant urination, unbearable lower back pain... I had it all. Thursday, though, the bleeding started. Light at first, maybe implantation? But I knew. I am 46 years old. The Pumpkin is a miracle that is unlikely to recur. That's okay for us. We don't need (or really even want) any more kids. So heavy bleeding, dreadful stabbing pains, the end. In the olden days this happened all the time. People didn't know they were pregnant so soon. They'd suspect, and they'd bleed, and they would assume they were wrong. Lucky them.
It is strange. Many of the blogs I am semi-addicted are written by women who would have been overjoyed by the apparent pregnancy and then devastated by the end. I am neither. I usually feel a vague sense of guilt to be so ridiculously fertile when other women have to try so hard to conceive. Today I feel only relief that we don't have to deal with a pregnancy just now. It is quite difficult enough to deal with a very strong willed 2-1/2 year old. And then Friday we found out that we're in for some tough times that have nothing to do with the kids (other than continuing to raise them during said tough times) and so I am finally just relieved.
I never had a positive pregnancy test - I had several negative urine tests. And the symptoms kept mounting. Constant nausea (no vomiting as long as I ate pretty much 24 hours per day), breast tenderness, fatigue (I fell asleep every day from 2:00 until 3:15 or so - and yes I am at work then), leg cramps that made me wake up screaming in the night, constant urination, unbearable lower back pain... I had it all. Thursday, though, the bleeding started. Light at first, maybe implantation? But I knew. I am 46 years old. The Pumpkin is a miracle that is unlikely to recur. That's okay for us. We don't need (or really even want) any more kids. So heavy bleeding, dreadful stabbing pains, the end. In the olden days this happened all the time. People didn't know they were pregnant so soon. They'd suspect, and they'd bleed, and they would assume they were wrong. Lucky them.
It is strange. Many of the blogs I am semi-addicted are written by women who would have been overjoyed by the apparent pregnancy and then devastated by the end. I am neither. I usually feel a vague sense of guilt to be so ridiculously fertile when other women have to try so hard to conceive. Today I feel only relief that we don't have to deal with a pregnancy just now. It is quite difficult enough to deal with a very strong willed 2-1/2 year old. And then Friday we found out that we're in for some tough times that have nothing to do with the kids (other than continuing to raise them during said tough times) and so I am finally just relieved.
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