Hungry Like The Wolf

There is a vast conspiracy out there among television programmers to torture me, as I have noticed that every other commercial involves food. Food I want. Food I am weeks away from being able to enjoy. I want Outback Steakhouse, and Applebee's, and Kentucky Grilled Chicken, and Olive Garden. I want fresh fruit and chocolate and salad and potato chips and small baby peas and penne alla vodka. I want a Corona with lime, a Diet Pepsi, a cosmopolitan and an iced tea. Why, oh why, are they doing this to me? (And don't ask me to turn off the TV - Jack Bauer is 2 hours away from saving the world again!)

This week was (as expected) quite difficult but here it is Sunday again and I made it through. Seven more treatments to go (yes, I've got a countdown going on). The pain shifts inside my mouth - as lesions heal, new ones take their place in other spots. Right now, it is my cheek (inside, up by the teeth) and the side of my tongue that hurts the most. No matter where the pain is though, it is unavoidable that it hurts to speak and to eat (well, I am starting to sound like a broken record on that one!). The "sunburn" on my face is now very noticeable, very red, very dry (despite my best efforts to keep it moisturized), very itchy, and just starting to be very painful. I'm realizing that, just like any other sunburn, once I am done with the treatments it will take a long time to fade to a tan, and then even more time to fade completely so that my face is normal again. I told Warren that if he doesn't buy me a hot tub I'm just going to tell people that my husband hits me (kidding!!).

It is hard to believe that tomorrow I am going to be 50 years old (c'mon, you know I had to work in my birthday somewhere!). I was reflecting on the fact that I couldn't really celebrate my 40th because I was recovering from surgery (the emergency hysterectomy). I was supposed to go to Paris with a friend who was also turning 40 a couple of weeks after me - and instead of waiting for me to recover, she went with her boyfriend because she was determined to turn 40 in Paris! Ah, loyalty! Actually, it worked out great - I ended up going with Patti B. to Paris and London the next year for Patti's 40th and we had a blast. So...where to next year Patti?

I confess to being saddened over my 50th. I was very much looking forward to turning 50, to celebrating in a grand way (GALAGANZA!), to feeling well and strong and invincible, to a day of smiles and spoiling and cake and cosmos, to appreciating the half-century of life I've been privileged to enjoy. And while I certainly realize that I can celebrate any time (at least that's what everyone tells me)...really, it is not the same. I know I talk about a "birthday month" celebration, but THE DAY is the thing. It's the one day that's all mine (and Tina Fey's and George Strait's and Pope John Paul II's...) and I really, really wanted tomorrow to be wonderful. And I am sorry if I sound whiny because I should perhaps just be grateful I am alive and not be so hungry for more, but I sure would have liked not to be feeling so miserable on what is, to me, a really special day.

And I AM grateful for those of you who have already tried to make it a terrific day (cards, gifts and flowers have already arrived from Mary and Carol, Bonnie and Dave, and the Tobin family) - I promise to make the best of the day that I can. For when you get right down to it, how many more really do I (or any of us for that matter) have? 50 years - go figure.

My prayers and thoughts continue to go out to Aunt Barbara and Danny B., both recovering from major surgery and (so I'm told) doing well. There are plenty of us struggling back to health and I know we are all making every effort to do so in a positive and optimistic fashion (even when we don't want to!).

Blessings and Love to All - and Happy 50th Birthday to me!