GGH PHOTOS, Sneezing, Coughing & Killer Socks

Okay, people...here's the pic you've been waiting for!! The Giant Golden Hootie!!!!

Now, it is about 35 or 40 feet tall and about 12-15 feet wide. You can't really tell that...but it truly is GIANT. Now, imagine John and me getting off of the elevator, turning to our right trying to find the Women's Oncology office and this is what we see. Too much!! 

Here are some things that are bugging the crap out of me. First, with allergies flaring, every time I sneeze or cough, I piss myself! Makes me so mad. Women, you'll get this...the guys won't. I've made the "pad" industry very happy over the last few weeks. Precaution is a must. I know it's going to happen...just never know WHEN. It goes like this...SNEEZE, Piss a little, CUSS, go to change pad. YOU know what I'm talking about. Don't act like it's never happened to you, ladies! We're of the age now that it's inevitable. Do Kegal exercises work for that? Hmmm, I'll have to do some research on it. 

I have always been a "sweater" like my Dad. It could be 20 below 0 and if I'm working hard at something...manual labor...I'm going to sweat. Also, if I'm just working a little...I'm going to sweat. However, I have sweated MORE since they yanked out my uterus and ovaries than I ever have. I'll be sitting, talking with JD or reading, or wasting time on FB & Pinterest...and out of the blue...my ears get hot then my face and the next thing I know, I'm sweating like a whore in church. Not just a little...full blown beads on my brow. It's hot enough under my vuluptuous breastages that I could cook dinner up in there! The sweating/hotflashes are on my penultimate nerve.

Socks. They elude me. I wash them, count them as I put them in the dryer. Dry them. Take the clothes out and as I'm folding and hanging...one of the socks is missing. I re-trace my steps to and from the laundry room to the bedroom, but no dice. Where the hell is that sock? So, I look down inside the pants, shirts...what have you, just in case it tumbled it's way into one of those hiding places. Nope. (Sing this next line to the tune of "Where Oh Where Has My Little Dog Gone?"!) Where or where has that little sock gone?? Is it just me? I think not. I'm sure you all have this same problem...maybe? One day, I'm going to open the dryer door and there will be hundreds of socks in there...kinda like a Stephen King story. They'll have been buried in some Sock Cemetery and come back all raggedy and mean spirited with athlete's foot fungus in them, holes in the heels and toes, faded and frayed and the elastic all stretched out, smelling of sweat and rancid foot odor, ready to jump out and strangle me with their non-elastic. Maybe I don't want to bring them back... Now, every time you open the dryer, you're going to think about that, aren't you? I'm laughing. :)

Happy October! 

Siblings and Banana Bread.

I didn't realize today was Columbus Day, so my plans to make phone calls, go to the bank...blah blah blah...got changed really quickly! Instead, I've made Banana Bread using a new recipe I found on Pinterest. It uses honey and no sugar added applesauce instead of sugar and oil it also uses whole wheat flour, so it's healthier than the typical recipe. I added a little cinnamon and vanilla, so we'll see how it turns out!

My oldest brother, Bob, had a bad heart attack on Friday. They did a heart cath this morning only to find out that he has 9 blockages total...and will have a quintupple bypass on Wednesday, Oct. 10th. I feel so badly for him and Becky, his wife.

Bob is hilarious. He's always kidding around...(all of my siblings do) and he's so casual at being funny, that you can be having a serious conversation with him and he'll say something hysterical in a way that you think it's part of the serious conversation! He'll wait a second, and then he starts cracking himself up! He's really smart. In fact, all of my siblings are very intelligent...and they all have their own hilarious sense of humor. There's NEVER a dull moment when we're all together with our spouses and families...my three brothers smoke cigars and tell tall tales and try to out-do each other on the hilarity spectrum! My two sisters and I mix up some cocktails and keep each other in stitches with knowing glances, wise cracks, funny faces and that " I can read your mind and you're cracking my ass up" thing that all sisters have going on! Our 84 year old mom, just watches, shakes her head and smiles while intermittently interjecting her opinion about whatever is taking place at that time. I wish Dad was still with us so he could see us all, and enjoy all of their grand children and great grand children. He'd be a very happy man.

Our entire family (my brothers, sisters and their kids and grandkids) have never been together at the same time. Not ALL of us. If we were to get together...there would be a total of 39 of us. That's including spouses, one significant other, my brother's and sister's kids and grandchildren. My brother, Bob and his wife Becky-and John and myself- are the only ones out of the 6 of us Sullivan kids that don't have children.

For some reason, I'm really missing my Dad today. I have been for a few days. I think...he's been around me recently...in spirit or whatever that is that happens. I think my Grandma Dunn has been too. I've been seeing things out of the corner of my eye...like someone was walking by, or some kind of movement...and of course, when I look over...no one is there. Last night, I thought that John was walking down the hall toward me from the bedrooms. I was in the kitchen.  I was cooking and was facing the living room/hall way and "saw" him walking behind the couch toward the kitchen. When I looked up all of the way, there wasn't anyone there. John, was still taking a nap in bed. I immediately felt the presence of Dad...I don't know what made me think it was him, but...I did and do. I'm hoping that Bob is feeling Dad's presence today as he goes through all of this heart stuff. Hopefully, there will be some kind of comfort there.

I've got to take my Banana Bread out of the oven, so ta-ta for now.

Seeing Eye Poodles, Hedgeapples, and Giant Bubble Wrap

Here's the story about the "seeing eye Poodle".

About a month ago, John woke up early on a Saturday morning and couldn't see out of his right eye. He said it was a pink haze that he couldn't see through. So, off to the eye doctor we went. She took pictures again and immediately said it was a large bleed and we'd have to go to an ophthalmologist in Springfield. This past Monday, he got to see the new doc and had...(before I say this, those of you with eye phobias like me need to steady yourselves before you read this) an INJECTION of Avastin into his right eye. Yes, I was completely freaked out the entire time....I can deal with anything but I have a real problem with eyes...anyhoo, John was strong, and after a dye infusion (in his arm) for some really detailed photos and numerous tests, when they were prepping him to do this injection to lessen the edema of the retina and blood vessels, they placed several different drops to prep his eye...the first being the ones that numb the eye so that the rest of the drops aren't so very painful-and of course, so that the injection isn't as bad....(I'm gagging right now just typing this) Okay, so nurse number 1 put a big dot above his right eye to indicate that was the one to be worked on. They prepped the eye and the entire area around it with the yellowish brown Betadine. She adds the numbing drops, antibiotic drops and a million other drops..THEN, nurse number 2, who is obviously blind herself and you'll understand why I say that when you read this...puts more drops in his right eye and before John could say anything...she opens his left eye and throws some in there for good measure. John just about came out of his skin...but instead, he very calmly said..."Should my left eye feel like you just poured a teaspoon of salt in it?" The nurses and doctor turned around to him at once and she said "Oh no, I prepped the wrong eye!" At the same time the doc sternly said "NOT the left eye...flush it fast!" Meanwhile, John is trying not to squirm and kick the shit out of nurse number 2. He's in so much pain and his eye is burning so badly that he's beside himself, but still remained calm by doing breathing exercises. (I just puked in my mouth a little bit) While blind nurse number 2 flushes his left eye, the doc said, okay look to your left...John did and in went the needle. John said it was a little prick. Basically, it was nothing compared to the inferno assault that had been heaped into his left eye without any numbing drops ahead of time!  When we were leaving, the elevator doors opened and two of his nurses came out. I only recognized one of them. As we got onto the elevator, John points to nurse number two and said " that's the one who put the drops in the wrong eye!" The doors closed, and I said..."I wish you'd pointed her out sooner...I could have kicked her ass right here in front of the elevator...blind hag." I mean really, there's a big sticker dot right above his right eye and Betadine the color of baby poo all over his right eye, eyebrow and underneath it too...REALLY?!? You couldn't see that, you stupid wench?  We both laughed and down we went.

So, here's the before part that has to do with the original Poodle story. As we're sitting in the room waiting for the doc to come in, John says to me as he has many times since all this eye stuff started over a year ago..."at least if I go blind I'll be able to finally get my German Shepherd I've always wanted. He can be my seeing eye dog." Then he said..."However, if I'm blind...I wouldn't really know what kind of dog it was. They could say- oh yeah, this is a new breed of German Shepherd that has curly fur and a smaller stature. Then I'd be walking down the street with a seeing eye Poodle that I'd named Killer!" Of course, I'm cracking up and trying not to laugh too loud. Other people don't always appreciate our humor. Especially in doctors offices...everyone is so sick or worried or both...most people don't handle bad things by making fun...but, that's how we deal with the worst things that happen to us. I guess we're both just kinda wired like that. I just keep picturing John with a white fuzzy Poodle with big fur balls around it paws and tail and a pony tail up on it's head with a pink bow in it and John calling her "Killer"! Makes me smile every time.

Now, back to the injection. They made me read this four page information guide about the Avastin injection to John in the room while we waited on the Doc to do the eye injection. I start reading and I'm thinking to myself "geeze, I'll never get through all of this." So, I picked up the pace. The nurses kept coming in and out seemingly like they were irritated and wanted me to hurry, so I sped up the pace even more. John was sitting there laughing at me because I sounded like one of those tv commercials that tells you all of the side effects of a medication really fast toward the end of the commercial. You know, the ones that read really fast: may cause rash, coughing, diarrhea, impotence, blurry vision, bleeding, excessive sexual desires, cravings for prunes, edema, toe cramps, elongated ear lobes, hard nipples and discoloring of the skin. So, as I'm reading, we realized that the medicine Avastin is a chemotherapy drug that they use for colon cancer. John's Mom actually was on this chemo during her last round before she passed. And now, they were getting ready to inject it into his RIGHT eye.  As I read aloud to him, I was struck with the overwhelming feeling of being grateful for technology and the improvements in medicine over the years. I wouldn't be alive right now had it not been for these medical advances.

Update on the injection and seeing eye poodle. The injection did what it was supposed to do! So, he will have laser surgery to take care of the damage caused by the diabetes and high blood pressure in three weeks on his right eye and then later on the left. So, there is no need for Killer, the seeing eye Poodle! I have been revamping recipes to help both of us with eating less meat and to eat less foods that are high in purines which turn to uric acid and cause his Gout to be worse. Also, of course, less sugars...even more so than I have in the past for both of us. Gout is one of the most painful forms of arthritis. This has turned into a full time job just trying to come up with new recipes that are healthy but don't include high purine foods, low sugar, low fat, and low cholesterol. Of course, his favorite foods are high in purines...shellfish, asparagus, spinach, mushrooms...so, I'm working on delicious substitutes so he won't miss them so much! Thank goodness, most fruits and veggies are low in purines...so that helps a little!

New story that has nothing to do with John. Saturday, Michele, Camille and I went to the recycling center to empty our full bags of glass, plastic, papers and cardboard type things. We went back to their house, and for whatever reason, decided to pick up the Hedgeapples and Daron trimmed a few limbs so that the kids wouldn't run into them. So, we bagged all of the Hedgeapples and Daron put them in the back of his truck for Chele and myself to take back to the recycling center. As I was bent over rolling hedgeapples over to Michele, my flip flop caught on a clump of grass and my fat, cellulite laiden ass dropped to the hard ground and rolled around for a couple of seconds like a giant rolly polly with gray hair and blue eyes that wears Liz Claiborne perfume! Daron was standing right next to me but had his back to me and just saw what was happening out of the corner of his eye and turned just in time to put a hand out to try and help me as I hit the ground hard. I'm surprised the rest of the hedgeapples didn't fall off of the tree with that hard of an impact. I sat there, thinking to myself, "Well, shit! Have I broken anything?" The answer was no, but I sure am sore! Scared the crap out of Chele and Daron...but, I'm okay...just need to start wearing a suit made of bubble wrap that has those giant bubbles in it. I don't know, maybe they make that out of different colors so I can at least match it to some cute shoes! 

Well, friends...I'm looking forward to the Presidential debates this week! I'll write more in the next couple of days. Everyone have a fantastic week. Hugs. 

Sweat, Crying, Insurance and Thinking Liberal

And here it goes...
Let me just start this post off by saying what I've said before and what everyone else has always said (maybe not in these exact words) and what everyone in the future will say...Menopause is an evil,  all-consuming, making your mind crazy, lighting your ass on fire and making you sweat like a whore in church, making you sob like a baby without a rattle, leaving your eyes wide open when they should be closed and resting, energy zapping piece of bohboh. I HATE IT. I am personally contributing to Global Warming because of all of the electricity I use running the a/c, running the ceiling fans, running the oscillating fan and standing in front of the frige with the door open. Even though I recycle A LOT...it's never going to make up for the energy I've used over the last month trying to keep from spontaneously combusting on the spot. No, I can't take hormones because they induce cancer growth...yeah, they didn't tell me that one before the ol' uterus and ovaries were yanked out. Really?? I'm finding that I'm starting to get irritated really quickly also....like PMS times 50. Let me just say it now....poor John. Honey, I really am trying to be sweet...it's not me being bitchy...I really am having a hard time controlling my emotions...so if I'm not crying....I'm pissy....sorry... and hopefully I'll learn to deal with it better very quickly. Just know that I love you....even if I do feel like slapping you and your seeing eye poodle named Killer just because my hormones say so...I really hope you're laughing right now. Okay, enough said...I'll move on.

Have any of you ever considered what it must have been like to live back in the days before modern medicine, technology and germicide? Before a/c, heat, and everything electricity? I wouldn't have made it. Disease ridden people like me didn't last...makes me wonder about all of the talent that died before it was discovered?!? You never know, there could have been several more Beethovens or Monets...Mozarts or DaVincis or anyone else you'd like to substitute in there. Something to ponder. 

We, like many other people, have watched the first two episodes of Revolution on NBC. I thought it was going to be a lot better than what it is...but hopefully, it'll pick up. But, it brings to the forefront of my mind some things I'd like to know...maybe you're curious too?

1. Technology wise..."Grace" has what looks like an old Apple from the 80's....why in the world would she be using that instead of a laptop or a decent desktop from the last year before the blackout?

2. What do all of those "women" do about having their periods??? Feminine hygiene??? Sanitary napkins, tampons...etc? Just thinking out loud here, folks. Yeah, the guys don't care about that one...but I'm sure I'm not the only woman out there who has wondered about the big "P".

3. Why does that black guy that played "Fring" in Breaking Bad always play a mean, killer type???

4. How in the world do they expect us to believe that they were able to round up all of the guns just by saying you can't have them and the penalty for having them is death...yeah, right...think about that....if we were actually in that situation...NO ONE and I mean NO ONE would give up their arms willingly. I know I certainly wouldn't.

5. Could someone please write in Charlie's script that when they do the daytime soap opera close-up at the end of a scene right before a commercial break...that she needs to stop furrowing her brow to make us see and feel her intended emotion. It just makes her look like she's constipated and in need of some Miralax.

Maybe these questions will be answered in the next few episodes...if not, I'm writing the editors.

Okay, now for politics. I won't go overboard here, but let me just say this. I have always been a very hard worker. I've never rested on my laurels and wouldn't be now if it weren't for this damned RA. I do everything I'm supposed to do...I take my meds, keep all of my appointments, eat right...drink plenty of water, take vitamin and herbal supplements, meditate, I do breathing exercises, read inspiring works, sing, play, dance, laugh and love. Okay, dancing not so much now, but my new version of it...:) How does this fit into politics? This is how. I am so freaking tired of listening to my conservative friends and conservative leaders talk about me. Yes, ME. I receive Social Security Disability...which I paid into...not as a teacher in Missouri, but from other jobs. I will be on Medicare as of November 1st. I have been on both sides of this argument...not just for arguments sake, but ACTUALLY, physically have been there. I am lucky...we've always been able to have health insurance through our teaching positions. We don't have children, so we didn't have that worry on our minds....it is just the two of us. But, let me tell you this. Had we not been teachers...where insurance is partially paid for us, I would have been dead a long time ago. I can not and will never understand why anyone in this country would deprive every man, woman and child of health insurance. I don't care if they are lazy, not wanting to work asshole adults...most of them have children. Those children do not deserve to suffer EVEN MORE just because they were born to idiotic pricks. I'm sure everyone knows the breakdown about the current cost of emergency room visits per year and long-term hospitalized people without insurance costs as opposed to the entire health insurance for everyone costs....it would be cheaper in the long run...so, I won't bore you with the details and specifics...AND EVERYONE WOULD BE COVERED. Every single aging parent- like my sweet, smart, paying out the nose at the age of 84 for health insurance Mother, and every ill baby, toddler, elementary child, middle school child, and teenager...and even our college kids...so many college kids don't have insurance...so many of all of these categories don't have-can't afford-health insurance. I don't necessarily agree with all of President Obama's health care plan...but it's a start to get us moving to what should be a right for every single person in our America. Do not write me and tell me I'm wrong. And how President Obama is the devil incarnate...sorry...I disagree and will not waste my time on that never gonna get anywhere scenario. I've already debated this health situation with many people...and being in the position I'm in health-wise...I have a unique perspective that healthy people who have always been able to afford health insurance and still eat and put gas in their car and go shopping and pay all of their bills will never agree with or understand. Who knows, if the government would do it correctly...even the crackheads, methheads and whatever heads might be "more" able to get lined out and into rehab without the cost being so very high that they can't get help. No, I'm not a bleeding heart. Lazy ass, not taking care of their children, not working, taking advantage of the system people piss me off and make me fighting mad...but I have weighed those feelings with the facts. And now, I know I've alienated a lot of our friends who are conservatives...and I'm sad about that, but....you guys post conservative shit all of the time on FB and such...I just can't keep quiet about this one any longer...that is, not being in my current situation and having lived through trying to stay as healthy as possible while not being able to pay the bills because I had to stop working. Things are better now, because I've spent the last two years digging us out of the hole...medical bills are piling up as we speak... again...but, it will be paid...so please, don't tell me about what you think needs to happen with health insurance in this country...if you've never been in a health crisis where you had to decide whether to pay the electric bill in January, or buy your medicine that has a price tag of $5000.00...for one med, for one month. Now, that wasn't my cost, thank GOD, because I had HEALTH INSURANCE... which brought it down to $100.00 per month for that one medicine...the medicine that allows me to walk, move my appendages and not be in so much pain that all I can do without it is cry and vomit. I don't want to hear it...I don't want to debate it...and I don't want to lose friends...and since this is MY BLOG...I'll say whatever I damned well please. So, there it is. Now, everybody knows how I feel about it. Like it or not...it's out there. Yes, I'm liberal AND conservative depending on what we're talking about...but I lean much, much further toward the liberal side on most things. I usually don't talk about it because so many of our friends are conservative...and I love and respect them all, and don't want to piss anybody off...but at this point, I had to say it. Had to get it off of my chest. (nobody say anything about my chest....I already know what you're thinking, you smart mouths:) especially all of my guy friends.)

Now for a lighter subject...floating feathers. :)

Hugs to you all...and yes, even to my conservative friends!!! I love you all, dearly. :)

P.S. In tomorrow's blog, I will explain about the seeing eye poodle named Killer. :)

Bitch Slapped It.

I just bitch-slapped uterine cancer. Of course, I did that with the help and support of Dr. Darren Lehnert, gynecologist- Dr. Jay Carlson, women's oncology surgeon- John, Michele and the rest of my family and friends. Inside, I'm completely healed. I still have a small wound on my abdomen from where the incision dehissed, but it is healing quickly. However, I am CANCER FREE at this point. Freakin' yeyyyyy for me!!!!!!!! :)

At my last post-op appointment, I was told "You two can start having sex again, but you might want to play with some different positions because you will be tender in there." Sex???? That is the last thing on my mind right now...we're so wrung out from the last three months of summer and John being back in school...and the fact that I still have a gash in my belly...yeah....sex isn't exactly what is on our minds right now! However, I'm POSITIVE we can work something out! :)

I'm amazed at how much less energy I have. I'm sure it has something to do with the fact that the RA is ravaging my body even after being back on the meds for 6 weeks...I hope the meds kick in soon, because I'm getting ready to find some alternative pain medicating sources if they can't get this under control! :)

Now, every three months, I go back in for a pap smear. I bet you're wondering the same thing I was....a pap? What in the hell are they going to smear??? It's all GONE! (thank goodness, btw!) Well, here's what happens. When you have uterine cancer and a complete hysterectomy, they sew the area where the cervix was closed. So that's the top of the hootie! That is where the pap is taken, because that is where the cancer will show first if it returns. So, for the next two years, I will be visiting my hootie oncologist every three months to have a pap of my non-cervix!

On a more serious note, I want those of you who have never been into a women's oncology office to picture what I have experienced in the waiting room for the last few months. As you enter the waiting room, the first thing that you notice is that there are several men sitting in there, reading, drinking coffee and trying to look casual. They are the husbands, fathers, brothers, sons and friends of the women who are in the stirrups just through "the door" - the door that leads to terror as well as healing. All of the men looked up at me-every single appointment- as I enter the room...and they all smiled at me...as if to say..."I understand what you're going through...and I'm sorry." As they sit there trying to be strong for their loved one who is on the other side of "the door", it makes me grateful that I have such a healthy support network of friends and family. Then, I'm stunned. Out of "the door" comes one of the stricken women. She comes out, walking ever so slowly with the aid of a walker and a beautiful scarf wrapped around her bare head, obviously the loss of her hair is from chemo or radiation treatments. Her man jumped up with her purse on his arm and was right by her side helping her through the maze of chairs to get out of the office. I am not her. I almost feel guilty about that. She is so very sick, so very weak, so very quiet. I am not her. I'm healthy-cancer free. But she isn't. Not yet, at least. Or, maybe never. It's so very unfair...shitty turn of events for her. Her inner strength was so obvious though, as she made it through "the door". All I could think was...I am sooooo thankful that we found my uterine cancer when we did. So many of the women in that room look like that, then there are the ones who look like there's absolutely nothing wrong. Such a drastic difference. Such a drastic emotion for me. It's an emotion I've never felt before, a combination of pity, horror, gratitude, relief, stress and exhaustion. How is it possible to feel all of those things in one single moment in time? I'm not sure, but I did. 

Now, I have to schedule my annual mammogram. Love that annual trip to the tit-squisher. Let's hope there aren't any problems there. 

I'm going to enjoy this week. Watched the Republican National Convention last week and am watching the Democratic National Convention this week. It doesn't get anymore fun than this! Political positions are the stuff of good television ...if you can hold two opposing thoughts in your head without it exploding! 

Everyone have a fantastic week. To all of my music education friends and family members, I hope you are singing, playing and teaching with enthusiasm!! Have a fantastic, productive school year! I will personally continue healing and getting my strength back! Hugs! :)

My Jester.

I opened my eyes. I knew as soon as I tried to lift the sheet and comforter off of me that my body had decided during the night to rebel against itself. I cried out in pain, waking John yet again. I tried to sit up and swing my legs over the side of the bed only to cry out once more. My left knee was locked in a Rheumatoid Arthritis grip...along with my toes on my left foot, and both hands and wrists. I sat on the edge of the bed and sobbed trying to relax and catch my breath and ease the sharp, stabbing pain that was now my body, my existence. The six inch wound in my abdomen with an activac in it didn't even matter at this point. It was the least of my worries.

My first thought, after being able to breathe again is that it will take me about 20 minutes to stand, then take the first step, second step and so on to get to the bathroom, that is if I can actually stand in the first place. Not being able to put any weight on my hands or wrists to push myself off of the bed was going to be a problem since my knee was locked. I would normally use my walker to help steady myself, but that won't do any good now, I have to be able to use my hands to manipulate the walker. My second thought...I have to piss NOW! Not 20 minutes from now. I somehow got myself up, leaned on my forearms on my walker to steady myself while I tested the knee out, and then took extremely small steps while the tears of agony ran down my cheeks. I managed to lean on my forearm again on the edge of the vanity and lower myself to the toilet. I can't believe I didn't wet myself...getting out of bed and taking a leak shouldn't be this hard. John tried to help me, but there was really nothing he could do. So, as my sweetheart always does, he stood there watching me cry through the pain and asking me..."Honey...what can I do?" The answer so much of the time is "nothing". When I'm sitting on the edge of the bed trying to breathe normally and he puts his arms around me, kisses the top of my head, rubs my back and makes jokes to alleviate some of the horror, my world becomes more tolerable. His arms have magic in them and when they envelop me, my heartbeat slows, my pain subsides ever so slightly and his love for me fills my heart. 

My heart hurts just knowing how badly he hates seeing me like this. My cries, sobs and pain go right to the center of his aching heart and land there making him worry and fret. And yet, he still jokes with me and manages to make ME feel better. But how do I make him feel better? How do I give the man I love, the man who supports me in every sense of the word, what he needs to survive our unplanned, unwanted destiny that our married life has turned out to be? We both took our marriage vows seriously and we always say to each other as a little reminder..." for better for worse, in sickness and in health, til death do us part." The love that I feel for John is and has always been a true, constant and admiring love. Of course, we have had our share of disagreements and shouting matches during our 17 years of marriage, like any two strong-willed, opinionated people who choose to marry will, however, I can't imagine I would like it any other way. John's heart is huge and he gives of it freely to anyone who needs him. I have been the benefactor of that huge heart for 20 plus years now, and I am so very thankful that he is my husband, my love, my jester, my intellectual stimulator, my best friend. He gives me hope when I've lost it and love when I need it. He carries the burden of taking care of me- physically, financially and emotionally on a daily basis even though this is NOT what either of us signed up for all of those years ago. For better for worse, in sickness and in health, til death do us part. Words to live by. Truly.

Sweetheart, I want to thank you publicly. This summer has been awful for you and I'm so sorry that my shitty health has been the cause of your pain. However, we are both strong and we have each other and soon, very soon...I will be healthy enough that we can get back to what our normal has become! If we focus on the fact that I'm cancer free now, and don't have to do any chemo/radiation, and that I'm healing extremely well, and that I'm back on the RA meds which should really kick in soon, we'll be okay. Please take care of yourself...we can get through anything together...anything. I've never loved you more, nor could I. CshickaCshicka. :)

This too, shall pass!

Yesterday, July 20, 2012, the home health nurse came and hooked me up to the acti-VAC. Now that was a party! Love to be in pain! It hurt quite a bit as she did it and afterward...and that was after a Percocet...which, I found out I can't take anymore. Narcotics make me sick and make my heart feel like it's pounding out of my chest. Not sure how people get hooked on pain killers if that's what it makes them feel like! I was miserable yesterday, scared and frustrated on top of just feeling all over terrible. 


Today, I'm feeling much better physically and mentally. I've decided to make the best of this, even though I feel like there's a big learning curve. I have to re-think everything since I have to have to carry this battery pack container around with me all of the time. I can unhook it to shower (which isn't really a shower because you can't get any of it wet) so, that in itself is a lot of fun just trying to get clean!


I was told "Don't lift anything heavier than a coffee cup or a glass of milk!" That... is nearly impossible. Just making a gallon of tea has become an ordeal. Boiling eggs, watering my plants, making coffee...all hard to do right now. I'm not even supposed to lift my glass lasagna pans that I use to roast chicken and veggies...just the pans are heavy...put food in them, and I'm really screwed. I've considered asking John to buy some frozen dinners that I can just pop into the microwave while I'm here by myself, but I hate eating processed foods with preservatives and chemicals. Plus, I don't want to gain any weight back while I'm stuck like this. I'm trying to stay as healthy as I can, and that means eating right...which I've done now for over two years, and how I've lost 70 pounds. That is the main way I can insure that my healing will be quicker. I'm going to try and take a short walk in our neighborhood tonight when it cools off a little. Hopefully, my joints will allow that to happen!!!


I'm still off of my RA injections...Methotrexate and Humira...it's been a month now since I've been off of them. I'm stiff, and have some pain in my right hip as of this morning, but so far...thank goodness...I'm doing very well. No flares and I'm hoping I can hold out so that the wound can heal faster! I'm going to start meditating and doing breathing exercises again today...that always helps with pain management (even if it's just a little bit) and just overall better mental mood! Stretching always makes your body feel better too. So, I've already stretched the best I can this morning. For me, getting up and moving is the best thing I can possibly do. Just sitting around when you have RA...that's the worst thing you can do! The joints have to move...that's the ONLY way my body will not lock up on me.


I want to say that I'm so very sorry about the shooting in Aurora, Colorado at the midnight showing of Batman...Dark Knight Rises. It is sickening. I hope those families and friends of the victims, both deceased and living, will be able to heal their hearts quickly and move past the sadness and devastation as soon as possible.


To my family...thank you all for being so supportive and helpful and funny during this crazy assed time! I love you all!


To my friends...you people are awesome! I love your notes, messages, cards and well wishes! Funny, smart people who make me laugh!!


To my sweet, hilarious husband...you warm my heart and make my life better by loving me and by being the most intelligent man I know who is capable of making me laugh so hard that I think I'm going to pass out! You, honey...are my rock and I love you.


This post wasn't my usual funny post, but...I'm sure the next one will be. Have some funny stories to tell!


Til then! :)

Well, shit.

Today I went to my post op appointment. The staples came out of my incision, I was told that I DO NOT HAVE TO DO ANY CHEMO OR RADIATION TREATMENTS, and all is on the mend. So, when the exam was over, the staples were gone and the steri strips all in place where the staples had been, and I was very excited to be going home!


As I leaned forward with the nurse's help to pull up my capris, I laid my hand on my abdomen for support as I was getting ready to stand...just out of habit. Then, I felt warmth all over my hand only to raise it and see that it was covered in dark brown liquid. Then, it happened. The nurse said, lay back down, I'll get help...as she said that, massive amounts of blood gushed from my wound and covered the exam table and the floor. I've never seen so much blood. It was disgusting, but even more than that, it was terrifying. I was getting ready to LEAVE when this happened. They had to use four blankets and a bunch of towels to get the floor to the point that they could walk around me to help me. Unbelievable. It was a huge wound hemotoma. He had to open about six more inches of my incision to clean out the rest of the blood clot. That was a lot of fun. Loved it. So now, I have to have a vacu pac which is a battery operated thing that sucks the tissues together and helps to heal the wound faster. I will have home health care nurses twice a day to change the packing for the next six to eight weeks. I am sooooooooo very thankful that it happened there and NOT at home. So scary.


I was very disappointed to say the least. I thought everything was going so well. I guess shit happens. John is at a DCI show in Broken Arrow, OK tonight and won't get home til about 4 or 5 in the a.m., Chele is at home with Mom helping her recover from her surgery today...which went well! And Evanne called and said she was on her way over to take care of me! I said absolutely not!! It's not like I'm bed ridden or can't do for myself...it's just another bump in the road...a bump that has really pissed me off....but it will work out in time.


So, that's it for now. I'm over it. Ready to call it a night. Love and hugs to you all, and thanks for your support through all of this bullshit! More later. :)

Post from hospital, Saturday, July 7th.

I'm typing this in gold in honor of the GGH (giant, gold hootie) John was going to take a pic for me of the GGH today, but the office was closed, so soon, people....SOON!

Good news...had a complete hysterectomy yesterday ...also, he took out my appendix and repaired an umbilical hernia. My surgeon was also able to remove ALL of the cancer since it was contained in the uterus. Nice. I've already been up and walking in the hallway, and just a few hours ago, they took me off of the i.v. that was giving me some more pain meds with a pushy button thingy (which was WONDERFUL) and now it's just straight Percocet. YUK. Makes me super woosey and just barely takes the edge off of the pain. But, that's what the anti-nausea medication is for! (Update: now that the Percocet has built up in my system, the pain is under control much better.)

They did NOT have to take any of my lymph nodes!!! YEYYY. He will do a consult with the other oncologist/surgeons next Friday, and then the decision will be made as to whether I will need to undergo chemotherapy or radiation. At this point, I'm just RELIEVED that they were able to get it all and not take my lymph nodes. I'm one lucky girl as far as that goes!! :)

I'm so stinking high right now, I'm surprised I can type! I just wanted to let friends know that I'm okay and on the road to recovery. Painful recovery, but recovery all the same. Once my hootie is healed completely, I will be a new woman!! Should feel a LOT better soon!

Here's a funny hospital story for ya. Today, (Saturday) somehow, I dropped my call button for the nurse's station. I was actually asleep when it happened, and needed to go pee right then! So, I very PAINFULLY pulled myself up out of bed and sat on the edge with my bare back end facing the door, trying not to pass out. Of course, I can't bend over right now, so I flipped the call button over with my foot and pressed it with my big toe. Now, you have to picture my lard ass in a hospital gown and at that time that was it! So, there's a knock at the door and I say "come in" thinking it was the nurse coming in to help me out. NOPE, it was my big brother Mike and my sister in law Cindy! Those two got a lot more than they bargained for on that hospital room entrance! Can you hear the music??? "Blue moon......you left me standing alone....." Sorry, M & C.... :)

Evanne, Drew and Chele spent the night with me Friday night....talk about a hoot. I was trying not to laugh cuz it hurt so badly...but that's impossible to do when you've got that many cut ups in one room! Whether it's a hospital room or not! Evanne and Drew left at about 2:00am and Chele stayed with me until 7a.m. It's wonderful to have family close by and even the ones that aren't close by are here to give moral support and then drive all the way back to Farmington...and those that are still back home in Farmington and in New Mexico are sending their love and positive vibes my way. 

Last night, Saturday...John spent the night with me. He didn't get a bit of rest-much like Chele the night before. I couldn't sleep in the bed last night, had to sleep in the recliner. The hospital bed is the MOST uncomfortable bed I've ever been in. I was miserable until they started giving me Percocet on a regular basis for the pain. I've been up walking and using the potty, so hopefully, I will be able to go home fairly soon. Ahhhhh, to be in our own bed again!! You'd think that the hospitals would try and give comfortable beds for people who are sick or having surgery. If you can't rest, then you can't heal. So...WHY in the hell are the beds and even the chairs SOOOO freakin' uncomfortable in hospital rooms?? Any answers to that one?

I can feel the RA creeping into my joints. My big hope is that I will heal quickly so that I can go back on my injections. I really don't want that pain on top of the pain from surgery. I told my nurse and John last night that I wouldn't wish this pain on my worst enemy. Not that I can think of any enemies right now! 

Okay, that's all for now. I want to thank everyone for the cards, flowers, plants and gifts! They are all beautiful and really brighten up this hospital room!! Also, I know that there have been LOTS of people pulling for me, many prayers on behalf as well as good vibrations sent across the miles! My heart is warm, folks! Thank you all!! :)

Til next time, 

Carolinn :)

Thinking about Dad

Over the last few days (since I found out about the endometrial cancer, hysterectomy, etc.) I've been thinking non-stop about lots of things. I've been remembering things that I haven't thought of in years. Some of it is funny....at least to me. So I thought I'd share some of my favorite memories.


One that jumps ahead in my mind is about my dad. Before I tell you the story, I'm going to give you some idea of what kind of a man Dad was! First of all, he was very intelligent, especially when it came to numbers and math. He could do huge calculations in his head. He worked for the St. Louis County Highway and Traffic department for many, many years as a Projects Engineer. He graduated from high school at the age of 16, he skipped ahead a couple of grades. He never attended college, but made sure that the six of us kids had the opportunity to if we wanted to do so. He worked extremely hard, loved to garden, watch and/or listen to the Cardinals play baseball, coffee and fishing. He was a Type I diabetic, he smoked like a chimney (Kool-Menthol Filter King, Prince Albert and Cigars). He was a strong, tough man and even when he was in pain, he didn't ever complain. He rode bikes with us, played basketball with us, would get us popsicles or ice cream when we were sick and always loved us no matter how much we pissed him off! Now, there were a couple of things that would really tick him off...the first one....if someone took his lighter (Jerry, my youngest brother, who is about 15 years older than me, was notoriously the one who got blamed for that!) Or, if one of us was lying. He hated that, and so does Mom. We learned at a very early age that it was MUCH better to fess up and take the punishment. But if we lied, oh boy....that was worse and more of it!


Dad cussed (because he WAS a sailor) and his favorite cuss words to say when he was frustrated or hacked was.."Well, shit, shit, shit." He had two favorite things to call people who made him mad...it was either "Peckerwood", or "Son-of-a-bitch".


Now, Dad was country...no bones about it...the man was country. Okay, so I think this happened when I was in high school...may have been college...it doesn't really matter. Mom, Chele, Evanne and probably some other siblings and I were sitting in the kitchen. I remember we were shucking corn and breaking beans out of the garden. Mom had this little lamp that was mounted to the side of the cabinet over the sink. It had stopped working so she asked Dad to take a look at it to see if he could fix it. So, we're all sitting there, talking, laughing and excited about the fresh green beans and corn on the cob and Dad, in his baseball cap, button down short sleeved shirt, baggy khaki shorts, white socks, tennis shoes and a cigarette hanging out of his mouth, starts looking at the lamp and fiddling with it. We were all watching him, and of course the smoke from his cigarette was winding it's way up through the lamp shade. He messes with it for a couple of minutes, and then, in his country twang he said "I cain't figer out why it's a-smokin' !" We all immediately started laughing and saying..."Dad!! The smoke is from your cigarette!!!" He started laughing and said "Oh, well...shit!" He fixed it, we all had a good laugh, and I love that story. 


After Dad had his stroke, and couldn't work anymore, he was always looking for things to do. He had this old '49 Ford Pickup Truck. He decided one day that it needed to be painted, so he bought some dark blue house paint that he liked, and hand painted the truck. No kidding. He painted that entire truck by hand. You could see the brush strokes in it. Michele and I drove that truck...for part of the time when we were in college and while I was student teaching...and I have to say, it ran really well! Never gave us any problems. I loved that truck because my Dad loved it, and I loved him.


I've been thinking a lot about Dad recently. My oldest brother, Bob, who is Dad's namesake, turned 63 on June 30th. My dad passed away at the age of 64 from liver cancer. I now know that my cancer isn't even a 16th as bad as his was by the time they found it, but it still made me think. He was so brave. We found out that he had liver cancer on December 21st, and there was nothing they could do for him. On February 8th, the day before my 25th birthday, he passed away. So about 49 days is all we had with him from the time we found out he had cancer. He was in so much pain, and he NEVER complained or said a cross word. That amazed me, and stuck with me. On my 25th birthday, my middle brother, Mike, and one of my other siblings...maybe Evanne and I went to pick out Dad's casket and meet with the funeral home people. It was my first year teaching, and I was devastated. But, with time, that grief has lessened. It's been 20 years since he passed, and I can still hear his laugh...sounded like Heathcliff when he was tickled. :)


It just occured to me that I may have already written about these two stories in a post from a couple of years ago. But, that's okay, because this blog is about me working through my emotions and dealing with all of this shit that has been thrown at us over the past few years. So, if I've repeated stories, it's okay. And, I'm sure Dad is enjoying it. I'm just assuming that he's right here with me, and patting me on the shoulder saying "It's going to be fine, doll."