Kind of an anniversary of sorts. September 21st. In 2007 it was the day I found out my cancer had spread to my lymph nodes and was considered serious. Saddest day. In 2010 it was the day they gave me a clean bill of health. Happiest day.
I can't even describe the high I was on. I felt like there was nothing I couldn't do, nothing I wouldn't do, nothing to hold me back, ever again. Like I had all the time in the world.
Well, if nothing else, I lived like that for 6 glorious months. I hope I get to do that again.
My family puts on a little film festival this time every year and my entry was going to be a cute little show of our cancer free celebration at Disneyland.
My story book ending.
Of course I didn't expect the evil villain cancer show up again. BOOOO!!!
The little part I talk to the kids on the couch is a year ago today. I love their reactions to the news. I get a weak cheer for the no cancer news, but watch them light up at the mention of Disneyland. I also love their personalities reacting to the news. James, who would plug his ears when he was 6 at any mention of cancer, is maybe the only one that really gets what any of this means. He thinks about it silently, hiding his face so we won't see any tears. Luke, who insists on buttoning up his polo and tucking in his shirts, is worried about missing school. Sam's shirt is nowhere to be seen and he is ready to take off with the plane today. Are you kidding him? "Who cares? Let's go to Disneyland today!" Love my little guys!
Wednesday, September 21, 2011
Sunday, September 11, 2011
i will never forget
One decade ago I was in a dental chair getting a root canal, listening to the radio as the twin towers fell. Confused, shocked, horrified, and really very sad, I went home to my 6 month old. I wanted to hold him forever. I wondered what kind of world I had brought him into.
But stories of heroism and patriotism started coming out. And the country softened. And we turned to God, and to our neighbors. And we were unified.
And the more I learned, the more I felt, the more I knew what kind of world this baby came into. One with fear and hatred, yes. But also one with hope and love, beauty and kindness.
One I couldn't wait to show him.
But stories of heroism and patriotism started coming out. And the country softened. And we turned to God, and to our neighbors. And we were unified.
And the more I learned, the more I felt, the more I knew what kind of world this baby came into. One with fear and hatred, yes. But also one with hope and love, beauty and kindness.
One I couldn't wait to show him.
Thursday, September 8, 2011
totally convinced
And suddenly…it’s September.
The beginning of a new chapter. One I knew was coming and have been dreading. It’s called “All the Kids in School”. The baby is in first grade now. So crazy.
That first morning we were all in a rush to get the right things in the right places at the right time. We made it out the door with maybe one minute to spare.
Time for the required and unpopular first day of school picture. I lined them up. Focused them in the viewfinder. It got quiet, everyone froze. All the hurry left me as I stared in awe at my little boys. They stood together, tall and wise and ready to move on. Behind them was the the house they had all grown up in. The one they had all been babies in and totally mine. The one that was constantly littered with laundry and laughter and lullabys. I thought of how older people would stop me in the grocery store or at a restaurant when I was wrestling with 3 preschoolers and have the nerve to say “These are the best years of your life, you know.” How I smiled politely but didn’t for a second think they could be serious. It’s because they dont’t remember I would say under my breath.
"Okay guys, smile!" "Sam! Stop making that face." "Let's try again." "Wait, can we get in some shade?" "Much better." "Luke I want to see some teeth."
"We are going to be late now, mom."
"Alright, yes. You better hurry."
They took off across the street with backpacks too big for their bodies, laughing and running to the bus.
If they would have turned around just then they would have seen their mom frozen in the yard, lost deep in thought. I am having flashbacks. I am feeling again the excitement of a first step, smelling a newborn after a bath, hearing the sweet little sentences only a three year old can compose, enjoying the peace of nursing a chubby baby to sleep in the dark, tasting the wet kisses of three little mouths in the morning. And then a bit of brilliance lights up my face. Because at that moment, as the boys turn the corner and are out of sight, I finally get it. I get what those strangers who have raised kids were saying. And it's not because they had forgotten. It’s because they remembered.
If a little family full of busy preschoolers and babies (we got lots of those in the neighborhood) would have walked by just then, I would have laughed at a sudden outburst by their 2 year old and said, totally convinced, “Oh, you are so lucky! These are some of the best years of your life.”
The beginning of a new chapter. One I knew was coming and have been dreading. It’s called “All the Kids in School”. The baby is in first grade now. So crazy.
That first morning we were all in a rush to get the right things in the right places at the right time. We made it out the door with maybe one minute to spare.
Time for the required and unpopular first day of school picture. I lined them up. Focused them in the viewfinder. It got quiet, everyone froze. All the hurry left me as I stared in awe at my little boys. They stood together, tall and wise and ready to move on. Behind them was the the house they had all grown up in. The one they had all been babies in and totally mine. The one that was constantly littered with laundry and laughter and lullabys. I thought of how older people would stop me in the grocery store or at a restaurant when I was wrestling with 3 preschoolers and have the nerve to say “These are the best years of your life, you know.” How I smiled politely but didn’t for a second think they could be serious. It’s because they dont’t remember I would say under my breath.
"Okay guys, smile!" "Sam! Stop making that face." "Let's try again." "Wait, can we get in some shade?" "Much better." "Luke I want to see some teeth."
"We are going to be late now, mom."
"Alright, yes. You better hurry."
They took off across the street with backpacks too big for their bodies, laughing and running to the bus.
If they would have turned around just then they would have seen their mom frozen in the yard, lost deep in thought. I am having flashbacks. I am feeling again the excitement of a first step, smelling a newborn after a bath, hearing the sweet little sentences only a three year old can compose, enjoying the peace of nursing a chubby baby to sleep in the dark, tasting the wet kisses of three little mouths in the morning. And then a bit of brilliance lights up my face. Because at that moment, as the boys turn the corner and are out of sight, I finally get it. I get what those strangers who have raised kids were saying. And it's not because they had forgotten. It’s because they remembered.
If a little family full of busy preschoolers and babies (we got lots of those in the neighborhood) would have walked by just then, I would have laughed at a sudden outburst by their 2 year old and said, totally convinced, “Oh, you are so lucky! These are some of the best years of your life.”
Monday, August 22, 2011
last hurrah
Summer is always too short. But oh, so sweet.
It has been a wonderful break. We ended it on just the right note. Josh's great grandpa built a cabin in the Sierra Nevadas in 1932 that is still in the family. It is boy Paradise. And the girls like it too. Fishing, boating, kayaking, star gazing, swimming, napping, card games, eating, reading. No cell coverage or internet. Just right.
It has been a wonderful break. We ended it on just the right note. Josh's great grandpa built a cabin in the Sierra Nevadas in 1932 that is still in the family. It is boy Paradise. And the girls like it too. Fishing, boating, kayaking, star gazing, swimming, napping, card games, eating, reading. No cell coverage or internet. Just right.
Saturday, July 16, 2011
Friday, July 15, 2011
This is seriously a crazy ride.
Checked into the hospital this morning having no idea what to expect. They put me in a hospital bed, started an IV, hooked me up to a heart monitor, explained I would get some drugs to make me sleepy (versed and phentanyl, I said yes to both) during the procedure. The Dr. came in and said that they do a CT scan, bring me out of the scanner, mark where the needle should go, get the needle in there (he said it could be hard depending on what organs were in the way, we may have to try and manually manipulate things, or lay on my tummy or something to try and get a straight shot), then with the needle in, run me through the scanner to see if it was in the right place, take some sample cells, and give them to a pathologist to make sure it was a 'good' sample.
Yikes!
He said there is a chance this area lit up on the scan because when they married the CT with the PET it was a little off and it was just showing the ovary again, as the spot was about the same size and right next to the ovary. How big of chance, I asked, of it being something like that and not cancer? He thought as high as 50%. B
So they get me on the CT machine, put a grid paper-thing on my stomach, run me through the scanner once, inject contrast dye, run me through again. I then wait for 10 minutes while the radiologist consults with another radiologist. He came out and said there was nothing he could poke a needle into. A small spot that they would watch in upcoming scans, but most likely just normal ovarian activity.
So within a couple hours I ran through so many emotions. Glad we are stopping on overjoyed.
Freedom!!! Until October...
Checked into the hospital this morning having no idea what to expect. They put me in a hospital bed, started an IV, hooked me up to a heart monitor, explained I would get some drugs to make me sleepy (versed and phentanyl, I said yes to both) during the procedure. The Dr. came in and said that they do a CT scan, bring me out of the scanner, mark where the needle should go, get the needle in there (he said it could be hard depending on what organs were in the way, we may have to try and manually manipulate things, or lay on my tummy or something to try and get a straight shot), then with the needle in, run me through the scanner to see if it was in the right place, take some sample cells, and give them to a pathologist to make sure it was a 'good' sample.
Yikes!
He said there is a chance this area lit up on the scan because when they married the CT with the PET it was a little off and it was just showing the ovary again, as the spot was about the same size and right next to the ovary. How big of chance, I asked, of it being something like that and not cancer? He thought as high as 50%. B
So they get me on the CT machine, put a grid paper-thing on my stomach, run me through the scanner once, inject contrast dye, run me through again. I then wait for 10 minutes while the radiologist consults with another radiologist. He came out and said there was nothing he could poke a needle into. A small spot that they would watch in upcoming scans, but most likely just normal ovarian activity.
So within a couple hours I ran through so many emotions. Glad we are stopping on overjoyed.
Freedom!!! Until October...
Wednesday, July 13, 2011
relief
The knot in my stomach is finally gone after a couple weeks! Although yesterday's news was not as good as it could be, I was prepared for much worse, so there were no tears or trouble sleeping.
The Dr. gave me the choice yesterday of doing surgery to remove and biopsy the spot in question, or scanning in couple of months to see if it grows. I asked what he would recommend and he said, "It's a tough call." Leaving the hard choice up to me. I didn't love either of the choices (although he said the surgery would not be as big as the last one) so we are going to see if they can get at it with a needle first. Might as well try.
There are reasons I am not too worried. The metabolically active spot was there on the scans in March, near an ovary, and the radiologist read it as something that can be normal in young women. They are concerned about it only because it has grown.
I think I would be more worried if the same thing was in my liver, or lung, or even if they were thinking it was a lymph node. Because those places make more sense to me.
Not sure what I'm trying to say, other than I'm in a better place today than I have been for a while. Kind of liking this place!
The Dr. gave me the choice yesterday of doing surgery to remove and biopsy the spot in question, or scanning in couple of months to see if it grows. I asked what he would recommend and he said, "It's a tough call." Leaving the hard choice up to me. I didn't love either of the choices (although he said the surgery would not be as big as the last one) so we are going to see if they can get at it with a needle first. Might as well try.
There are reasons I am not too worried. The metabolically active spot was there on the scans in March, near an ovary, and the radiologist read it as something that can be normal in young women. They are concerned about it only because it has grown.
I think I would be more worried if the same thing was in my liver, or lung, or even if they were thinking it was a lymph node. Because those places make more sense to me.
Not sure what I'm trying to say, other than I'm in a better place today than I have been for a while. Kind of liking this place!
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