Well, I have been relieved of yet another extraneous body part (thanks MJ!) with the removal of my tetchy gall bladder last Wednesday (Warren's birthday, by the way). And recovering nicely thank you very much.
Of course, it was not without it's (minor) complications. What was supposed to be an outpatient surgery turned into an overnighter when I had a bad reaction to the anesthesia, something that had never happened to me before. It wasn't even decided until almost midnight that I would be admitted; once in my hospital room (exhausted, nauseous and groggy from morphine) I was still asked the million and one admission questions by a nurse whose accent I had trouble understanding (and so many were repeated more than once). I'm sure this was a welcome diversion for the other patient in the room (who really wants to waste time sleeping when such fun is to be had!) but for me it was excruciating. I did well from the moment I was admitted and of course was discharged by noon the next day, none the worse for the wear and highly entertained by my roommate's backstory which included: drugs, alcohol, rehab stints, a 12-year-old son home alone, government-funded housing, medical self-treatment, an ex-husband with custody, an enabling mother, a suspicious social worker, weeping, threatening, shifting stories, gastric bypass surgery, 4 gallons of vodka, a current husband (residence unknown), a National Enquirer, taxi vouchers, a jovial male nurse ("Hang in there!"), discourse on the best and worst hospitals on Long Island (she's been to quite a few), and outright lies. Didn't miss my Blackberry and People magazine at all!
Recovery is going well. I only needed the fun painkillers the first day home (just Tylenol since then), I've gone out walking to get my body back in condition, and I will be back at work on Monday, albeit with the restriction of no lifting or exercise (what, no yoga again?!) for a couple of weeks. And I need to continue, for awhile at least, with the low-fat diet I've been "enjoying" this past month. While it freaks me out a little that I've now had 2 surgeries in the course of one year (3, I guess, if you count the fibula bone removal as a separate surgery), I'm glad that I had this done. Indeed, the doctor did find some scar tissue on my gall bladder from the attacks, so waiting and risking further attacks would have just led to a more complicated procedure than the simple one I ended up having ("lap choley" as those of us in the know call it). All that being said - I wouldn't mind taking a (permanent?) break from surgery!
Once again, I am thankful for all the support and prayers I received but a special shout-out must go to the young ones in my neighborhood: Abby and Anthony for helping their mom do some shopping for me and for their beautiful card; and Caralynn for her awesome gift (a colorful, homemade bowl that now holds my Jelly Bellies) and sweet card. I am doubly blessed with great neighbors AND their amazing offspring.
Some cool things I got to enjoy these past couple of weeks: a visit with Taryn in Maryland; a visit from Ian this weekend; talking to Emily about her upcoming study abroad in Russia; the Yankees winning the AL East Division; teaching this year's first Sunday School class last week.
Some cool things I'm looking forward to in the next couple of weeks: Girls' Night Out (with the neighbors) on Wednesday; Girls' Night Out (with my friends in the city) on Thursday; Vinnie's Bench Party on Saturday; Parents Weekend at UM; Chicken McNuggets (duh!).
Blessings and Love to All.
Sunday, September 27, 2009
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
Freedom
...from the tyranny of cancer - at least for now. My PET/CT results were negative, and although not unexpected (I did, after all, have similar results just 5 months ago), it is still always a relief to get confirmation. Now I can stop thinking that every twinge or pain or crick is a tumor lying in wait (yeah right).
I realize that even though I wasn't terribly worried about the results, there will always be an undercurrent of fear that the treatment(s) didn't work. Consider: I knew I would be blogging as soon as I got these results, and while many times I don't figure out a title for my post until I'm done writing, this time I did have titles picked out for both a positive and negative outcome. No matter how good I feel, no matter how at peace I am with my current situation, no matter what my doctors say or expect, I will never be able to escape the "just in case," the "what if," the "this is it." The joyfulness of surviving 15 years will always be offset by the sadness at having to deal with and think about cancer for so many years of my life. It appears I will always have to fight for freedom.
And let's not forget, this whole gall bladder thing still needs to be resolved. I was finally able to schedule my surgery; it will be done laparoscopically, a one-day in-and-out (no pun intended) procedure. It's set for September 23rd, which also happens to be Warren's birthday, but it was the only day they really had that fit my schedule. Don't worry - he's used to family members having organs taken out on his birthday - Emily had an emergency appendectomy on his 40th. What really stinks is I will now miss Girls' Night Out with my neighbors!
Taryn and Ian have adjusted quite well to college life - both are enjoying classes, making friends, going to football games (Go Terps! Go Blue Hens!), engaging in activities, going to parties. Warren and I did go to visit Ian the day before his 18th birthday to celebrate with him - we had lunch at the Wilmington Riverfront. And Friday I am swinging down to Maryland to see Taryn - 3 weeks is the longest I've ever gone without seeing her! Emily is working hard to maintain a tough schedule (she's commuting to classes this semester) and preparing her application for the study abroad program she's interested in for next semester. Warren's business is slowly picking up again and he is putting in a lot of hours trying to finish jobs and generate new ones. And I do fine with the quiet and the calm in the house...at least until I hear stories about murdered college students (Annie Le of Yale) and freshmen women being gang-raped (Hofstra - and even though it turned out not to be true, it still brought up disturbing issues) and alcohol-fueled partying. Then I worry about my kids, their friends, my nephew knowing that even if they exercise their freedom of choice to make good decisions at college, that random horrors can still happen. And then I pray.
Eight years ago, on September 11th, we lost forever Vinnie's sweet smile. His sacrifice; the sacrifice of his fellow firefighters; of our police officers; of our brave citizens on planes and in the Pentagon, and in the Towers; of our courageous and committed armed forces in Afghanistan and Iraq; have allowed all of us to continue to enjoy our many freedoms. As we work through the many contentious and confusing issues confronting our country let us not forget this fact, and let us honor our heroes by debating honestly and thoughtfully and respectfully with our fellow human beings. And let me humbly acknowledge that even temporary freedom from illness is far and away preferable to the fate that befell our wonderful Vinnie. We miss him dearly.
Blessings and Love to All.
I realize that even though I wasn't terribly worried about the results, there will always be an undercurrent of fear that the treatment(s) didn't work. Consider: I knew I would be blogging as soon as I got these results, and while many times I don't figure out a title for my post until I'm done writing, this time I did have titles picked out for both a positive and negative outcome. No matter how good I feel, no matter how at peace I am with my current situation, no matter what my doctors say or expect, I will never be able to escape the "just in case," the "what if," the "this is it." The joyfulness of surviving 15 years will always be offset by the sadness at having to deal with and think about cancer for so many years of my life. It appears I will always have to fight for freedom.
And let's not forget, this whole gall bladder thing still needs to be resolved. I was finally able to schedule my surgery; it will be done laparoscopically, a one-day in-and-out (no pun intended) procedure. It's set for September 23rd, which also happens to be Warren's birthday, but it was the only day they really had that fit my schedule. Don't worry - he's used to family members having organs taken out on his birthday - Emily had an emergency appendectomy on his 40th. What really stinks is I will now miss Girls' Night Out with my neighbors!
Taryn and Ian have adjusted quite well to college life - both are enjoying classes, making friends, going to football games (Go Terps! Go Blue Hens!), engaging in activities, going to parties. Warren and I did go to visit Ian the day before his 18th birthday to celebrate with him - we had lunch at the Wilmington Riverfront. And Friday I am swinging down to Maryland to see Taryn - 3 weeks is the longest I've ever gone without seeing her! Emily is working hard to maintain a tough schedule (she's commuting to classes this semester) and preparing her application for the study abroad program she's interested in for next semester. Warren's business is slowly picking up again and he is putting in a lot of hours trying to finish jobs and generate new ones. And I do fine with the quiet and the calm in the house...at least until I hear stories about murdered college students (Annie Le of Yale) and freshmen women being gang-raped (Hofstra - and even though it turned out not to be true, it still brought up disturbing issues) and alcohol-fueled partying. Then I worry about my kids, their friends, my nephew knowing that even if they exercise their freedom of choice to make good decisions at college, that random horrors can still happen. And then I pray.
Eight years ago, on September 11th, we lost forever Vinnie's sweet smile. His sacrifice; the sacrifice of his fellow firefighters; of our police officers; of our brave citizens on planes and in the Pentagon, and in the Towers; of our courageous and committed armed forces in Afghanistan and Iraq; have allowed all of us to continue to enjoy our many freedoms. As we work through the many contentious and confusing issues confronting our country let us not forget this fact, and let us honor our heroes by debating honestly and thoughtfully and respectfully with our fellow human beings. And let me humbly acknowledge that even temporary freedom from illness is far and away preferable to the fate that befell our wonderful Vinnie. We miss him dearly.
Blessings and Love to All.
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
So Far Away
I've dropped Taryn off at birthday parties, at relatives' houses, at the babysitter's, at lacrosse practice, at the beach, at the movies, at school, at church, at the library, at Chris's, at Molly's, and at Brianna's. But dropping her off at college this past Friday was an experience unto itself.
Surprisingly, I didn't cry when we said our final good-byes on Saturday. We (Chris and I) had spent time Friday getting her room in order (she's in a triple with two very nice young ladies), and then went back to her dorm Saturday with a few more things that she needed. She was subdued, looked a little scared, but seemed ready for us to leave so we did. After visiting Ian at Delaware, where he had been dropped off by Warren and Emily, we drove back to Long Island and that's when it began to hit me. The closer we got to home, the more I began to choke up, silently crying while traveling the Southern State Parkway (well, I didn't want to wake the snoring Chris by openly sobbing!). I dropped off Chris at his Dad's, and drove home to an empty house (Warren and Emily hadn't returned yet from their visit to Maryland), which normally would thrill me, but only served this time to upset me. The call went out to Lysa ("Awww, honey! She's going to come back you know.") and after a brief weepfest I was OK. But...it doesn't feel right. Not. Quite. Yet.
It's not just that she is so far away physically - it's that she is so far away from the baby I brought home from the hospital 18 years or so ago. It is amazing how confident and accomplished and self-sufficient she seems after only a few days away. Sure, she misses me (she has called every day, even if only for a few minutes while walking home from class), but she sounds genuinely happy to be where she is. I LOVE that. I am so proud of her independence - after all, it's what I set out to help her achieve. But I am feeling...purposeless. What DO I do if I am not "mothering?"
Conversely, I also feel like a great weight has been lifted because for so many years I was afraid I would not get to enjoy this experience with her and...I made it! We made it. And while I know there will be many more "big"moments in her life, somehow this "getting her off to college" loomed very large in my mind, arguably larger than any other events past or future. There's no "bucket list" beyond this; I'm not feeling any real need to begin bargaining with God again. Don't get me wrong - I hope to live a good, long life and to see Taryn graduate college, start a career, get married, etc. I'm just not feeling anxious about (potentially) missing any of it. I'm totally in the present right now.
I'm also totally needing to have this damn gall bladder removed! I visited the surgeon today, but we were unable to set a date yet (his scheduler wasn't in the office). For now, it's still looking like sometime in September (unless I have an attack - then it's "go" time then and there).
Follow-up PET/CT Scan tomorrow to see how everything looks after radiation. I don't expect there to be any problems (but it's always hard to wait for results). I continue to heal very slowly - still have diminished taste, salivary function, etc. Health (or what passes as health for me) often seems like it, too, is so far away.
I miss her smile (there isn't a more beautiful one in the world); I miss seeing what she is wearing each day (that girl really knows how to put together an outfit); I miss hearing her and Ian giggling in the kitchen late at night as they share a snack and compare notes on their evenings out; I miss her sense of humor (she is a physical comedienne in the mold of a Lucille Ball or Debra Messing); I miss watching her work the radio, flipping from station to station in search of the perfect Taylor Swift song to listen to; and I miss her cuddling up to me when it's time to watch "Entourage." So far away - but never far from my heart.
Blessings and Love to All.
Surprisingly, I didn't cry when we said our final good-byes on Saturday. We (Chris and I) had spent time Friday getting her room in order (she's in a triple with two very nice young ladies), and then went back to her dorm Saturday with a few more things that she needed. She was subdued, looked a little scared, but seemed ready for us to leave so we did. After visiting Ian at Delaware, where he had been dropped off by Warren and Emily, we drove back to Long Island and that's when it began to hit me. The closer we got to home, the more I began to choke up, silently crying while traveling the Southern State Parkway (well, I didn't want to wake the snoring Chris by openly sobbing!). I dropped off Chris at his Dad's, and drove home to an empty house (Warren and Emily hadn't returned yet from their visit to Maryland), which normally would thrill me, but only served this time to upset me. The call went out to Lysa ("Awww, honey! She's going to come back you know.") and after a brief weepfest I was OK. But...it doesn't feel right. Not. Quite. Yet.
It's not just that she is so far away physically - it's that she is so far away from the baby I brought home from the hospital 18 years or so ago. It is amazing how confident and accomplished and self-sufficient she seems after only a few days away. Sure, she misses me (she has called every day, even if only for a few minutes while walking home from class), but she sounds genuinely happy to be where she is. I LOVE that. I am so proud of her independence - after all, it's what I set out to help her achieve. But I am feeling...purposeless. What DO I do if I am not "mothering?"
Conversely, I also feel like a great weight has been lifted because for so many years I was afraid I would not get to enjoy this experience with her and...I made it! We made it. And while I know there will be many more "big"moments in her life, somehow this "getting her off to college" loomed very large in my mind, arguably larger than any other events past or future. There's no "bucket list" beyond this; I'm not feeling any real need to begin bargaining with God again. Don't get me wrong - I hope to live a good, long life and to see Taryn graduate college, start a career, get married, etc. I'm just not feeling anxious about (potentially) missing any of it. I'm totally in the present right now.
I'm also totally needing to have this damn gall bladder removed! I visited the surgeon today, but we were unable to set a date yet (his scheduler wasn't in the office). For now, it's still looking like sometime in September (unless I have an attack - then it's "go" time then and there).
Follow-up PET/CT Scan tomorrow to see how everything looks after radiation. I don't expect there to be any problems (but it's always hard to wait for results). I continue to heal very slowly - still have diminished taste, salivary function, etc. Health (or what passes as health for me) often seems like it, too, is so far away.
I miss her smile (there isn't a more beautiful one in the world); I miss seeing what she is wearing each day (that girl really knows how to put together an outfit); I miss hearing her and Ian giggling in the kitchen late at night as they share a snack and compare notes on their evenings out; I miss her sense of humor (she is a physical comedienne in the mold of a Lucille Ball or Debra Messing); I miss watching her work the radio, flipping from station to station in search of the perfect Taylor Swift song to listen to; and I miss her cuddling up to me when it's time to watch "Entourage." So far away - but never far from my heart.
Blessings and Love to All.
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