I vant your blooood

I had to get two units of blood transfused last week, it took 5 hours, but I feel a lot less tired for now. (I've donated blood lots of times, but I never thought I would need some myself.) White cell count really low too, I'll probably get a bone marrow booster (Neulasta) for that next week. From what I read online, it can be pretty grim for a few days afterward, but I don't want to get an infection and have to be hospitalized. Meanwhile the advice is for lots of hand washing, staying away from people with colds or the flu, washing/cooking food thoroughly, and staying away from crowds. That pretty much rules out trips to WalMart on several levels.

My hair is growing in and so I have this fine white crew-cut all over my head. I hate it, and try my best not to see myself in mirrors.

But all in all the chemotherapy is going pretty well, with only minimal nausea and so forth. And the insurance is now covering 100% of costs, as we have met the catastrophic limit for out of pocket. Yay! Just as an example, the two units of blood + infusion came to $1500. I am really really grateful to Blue Cross.

Bumper sticker of the day: "There's no time like NOW to postpone doing stuff."

Thunderstorms

There have been entire summers when we didn't have a thunderstorm the entire season. And then there is this summer.. ..
thunderstorms and torrential rainstorms regularly. Last night was a real hide-under-the-bed storm at around 1 am. The horses were out and I was standing on the back porch with my mega flashlight trying to see if the beasts were under the old barn, out of the rain at least. So of course they were "hiding" under a tree and were soaking wet. They were visible only when the lightning flashed, and so N and son C put on slickers and went out to round them up. First step was to corral the dogs into their stall, lured there with a hot dog since they too were quivering from the continuous thunder and lightning and wanted only stokes. Then he opened the big barn doors and the horses nearly knocked C down getting to their stalls. They shut the doors and came back in and the thunder still roared, up until 4 am. Nobody got much sleep.

Today's forecast was more of the same, so we left them in the barn, and it never rained a drop, and thundered not at all. Still we left then in tonight, and the biggest storm is due to hit shortly. I'm using the Macbook so I don't lose the entire post should the power go out unexpectedly. Around midnight the neighbors decided to treat all of us with fireworks, and I am sure the horses now think they are doomed to be violently assaulted every night. Since this is the county, none of this is illegal; just poor manners.

The thunder is getting closer and I will soon have 3 chicken cats trying to squeeze into little balls under the bed, they hate the noise so much they won't even come out for treats.



Bumper sticker for the day: "Oh NO! Not another learning experience!"

Still hanging in there

I didn't intend to let my posting here slide so long, but I didn't want this to become a long harangue about breast cancer treatment, and yet there is little I think about except the next step in my treatment.

Last week we went to a local antique mall and I found something neat. There was a wooden box, about twice the size of a cigar box (dating myself again) with an inlaid design on the top and there on the front, the initials of my name (MH). It was only $40 and I never thought twice about getting it. When we got it home, I wiped off the dust and crud (carefully) and when I got to the bottom, I thought I saw some writing. Turns out there was an inscription in ink, barely visible through the scuffing and staining, that said "V. M. Hartley, (a date in April), 1858." Because I do genealogy stuff myself, I looked up the name in the 1850 census records and found a Virgil and Matilda Hartley in a county near ours, just over the line in PA. His occupation is listed as "carpenter". How about that? The inside of the box has a lip for a tray, which is missing, and I would say it most recently has stored hand tools; but probably it was intended as a flatware box. I haven't been able to find any significant event associated with that family, like anniversary or wedding date or birthday, but I'm still looking. Lots of new genealogical data is showing up on the internet all the time. I'd like to find a way to bring up the ink inscription (I tried UV light and it doesn't help) so I can trace it out on paper and keep it with the box. For now it sits in regal splendor on my dresser and holds some jewelry in boxes. A neat find.

Mostly what I collect is fountain pens. I may have written here before about the types of pens, and some of the best ones I have found were at garage sales and flea markets, but I think over the years there are a lot more collectors and fewer pens to go around. I watch Antiques Roadshow all the time, and I have so far never seen a pen there, which is great, because that might encourage new collectors. The best thing about collecting pens is that I can store a lifetime of pens in a shoe box. I pity those who collect bulky stuff, like china or weather vanes and so on, they end up with half their stuff stored in boxes in the basement for lack of room to display all of it. My only problem is to keep writing with a few at a time, so the ink will flow. I can understand why ball points were such an instant hit, back around WW II, blobby and smeary they were, because they wrote right away, no wiping or blotting needed, and no need to find a refill ink bottle. I had my father's fountain pen I used in elementary school, until I dropped it somewhere on the sidewalk one day when I was dashing home to avoid a rainstorm. I went over every inch of ground I passed, but I never found it. I have an identical pen now, but it isn't quite the same, you know?

The washing machine is playing a tune now so I'll leave you with today's bumper sticker: "Any small object when dropped will hide under a larger object."

Running on empty

I don't know how frequently I will be able to post here. My weekly chemotherapy for breast cancer is very tiring and it makes me truly ill, many side effects one after the other, for several days afterwards. I still see all of your comments in my email, and I appreciate that I am going through this with support from all of you who comment. The chemo has been two cycles so far, with 6 or 8 cycles total. They have had to change my treatment plan because the first program was well on the way to shooting my liver down in flames (slight exaggeration). But the weekly herceptin treatment (monoclonal antibody) will be continued for a full year. Yeah me. I will try to keep in touch here, and hopefully I will be able to report that the treatment was a complete success against any potential metastases. And it is possible that the side effects will wind down somewhat once my body is more acclimated to feeling like s**t all the time.

Meanwhile, carry on...

Bumper sticker for the day: "Boldly going nowhere"

Will it ever be springtime?

The weather here is so weird. One day a sunny 78 degrees, the next 50 and rain. And more rain. I'm starting to grow webbed feet, I think. A few days in a row of nice weather would be heavenly. Right now the grass, carefully fertilized and pre-emergent treated for weed control, is 12 inches tall and lush beyond belief. And too wet to mow, so it looks like the rough at a golf course. Too bad we can't keep it so long, but it wound fall over and look horrible, half cropped off and half neatly trimmed. I hate mowing. If it was me, I'd plant Zoyzah (spelling?) grass, the one that gets a few inches tall and then stops growing. That or astroturf; or better yet green cement...

I go tomorrow for the next Herceptin infusion; the one last week was without a glitch, and no aftereffects either. Then next week I get the full 3 chemo drugs, given that my liver enzymes are OK. They called me back in Monday to repeat the blood work, but I won't know the verdict until I see the oncology doctor next Wednesday. Keeping track of all of this, with times for the doctor and times for the infusion is an ongoing battle. I used to keep track of really complicated meetings, deadlines, appointments and so on when I worked, but I guess I've lost the knack since I retired. Still it is nice that when appointments go into overtime, there isn't anywhere else I need to be, so it is just the boredom of the endless waiting room. I should find something to while away the time other than reading, which I find too hard to concentrate on, and it interferes with people watching.

Below is a photo of me at the infusion room, glassy-eyed from looking at the wasteland of daytime TV. Mostly I watch the weather channel and the shopping channel. I enjoy watching the shopping channels although I have never bought anything, it is fun to make fun of the gaudy jewelry, the kitchen gadgets, the ugly expensive clothing, and the poor women who have to stand there in front of the cameras and extol the virtues of something for 15 minutes at a time. If it were me, I'd just say, here is a pair of capris in 10 different colors, go for it.




bumper sticker of the day: "Everyone has a photographic memory. Some don't have film."

Cycle one is Done

Yesterday I had my first "cycle" of chemotherapy for my breast cancer. It started with an 9:30 visit with the oncologist and blood work, then a trip to the infusion room at the hospital. We were in without waiting, but the actual infusion of anti-nausea drugs first and then the three drugs individually had us leaving at 5:30 -- a long day. I had a reaction (hives) to the last infusion and the infusion had to be stopped while they gave me Benadryl, slowing things up further. I had also taken a steroid for three days, and an anti nausea injection/pills for delayed nausea. Thank god for the port (which wasn't too great for the insertion --I had a skin reaction to the tape over the incision for the port and ended up ripping the bandage off and smearing Benadryl cream all over the area, and then using ice packs.) I go back again next week for just the Herceptin infusion, and then weekly for that and three week intervals for the other two drugs. You see why it is so hard to keep all this straight?

I did cut my hair very very short. It looks like a man's haircut and not what I asked for, but oh well it will fall out soon enough. No pictures of this do here, though! I don't plan to get a wig as of now, they sound itchy and hot, and take a fair amount of maintenance, so I will go the scarf/turban route for now.

The cats here in Feline Manor have been total pests lately. There are blue jays outside the living room window competing for nest space (I guess) and the cats are flying from window to window to watch all the flittering. This is a big nuisance when they are standing of the back of the couch in front of the window whacking me with their tail. Why do cats do this? You'd think all that tail waving would pretty much scare off a bird, not to mention doing that "ack ack ack" noise in their throats. Maybe my cats are just retarded, but damn I wish they'd stop banging on the lamp shade. It cost way more than they are worth!!

I finally cleaned out the computer room, where I am now. It had gotten the brunt of all the stuff I brought home after I retired in 2006, and it was on every flat surface in here, and then on the floor. I once again have too many pens, but I like them so they stay. It was a running joke, that my co-workers would ask, can I borrow a pen? and I would say, Weeelll I guess; blue, black, red, ball point, gel writer, disposable, refillable, Drug company logo (special on Viagra), retractable or capped?? We aim to please. My candy jar was another big hit, always full of chocolate, etc, none of that butterscotch or peppermint stuff, just good old chocolate or peanut butter varieties; or both. I left them the jar when I left, but I doubt they kept it up, it ran me $25 a month, even on sale. They probably got more use out of my microwave, toaster, and mini fridge, all of which I left too. I couldn't bear to hear the complaints at home when still more stuff had to go into the attic, probably never to see the light of day. They could rest quietly next to the 3 not-cable ready TV sets, do you know how hard it is to get rid of stuff like that? We have a very weak recycle program here, limited to trash, period, at the curb. Travel to a transfer station where they charge by weight, a typical load being $50. No wonder there are so many "orphan" trash heaps back off the road, filled with old washers, old tires, and everything else you can think of and some you can't like deer carcasses after hunting season. Yuck.



This is the four of us, taken back in August. Very rare as usually one of us is taking the photo; and rare because we are are all dressed nicely (pretty much; I don't know WHERE N got that green striped shirt..) Anyway, back before the Feb cancer diagnosis...

I still think of before cancer ,after cancer, even when I am getting dressed (can't wear this, too much (non) cleavage, etc.) Funny. There are those many so worse off... I try to keep a sense of perspective about my situation...


Bumper sticker of the day: "I'm speeding because I have to get there before I forget where I'm going."

All Clear

What a relief! The PET/CT scan is clear, no sign of metastases. The visit to the surgeon resulted in once again syringing out fluid around the incision, but he also scheduled the port placement. It is to be installed (sounds like a new washer, doesn't it?) on April 1st. Chemo tentatively scheduled to begin on April 4th. In between these two visits is a trip to salon and cutting off most of my hair. Soon I'll be what a comedian once described as having less hair to comb and more face to wash. I.e., bald. I will find out what my bare head looks like, and I'll see how much it bothers me to be bald.

Below is a photo of my ice candle. It burned down very fast, and although I expected to get a hollow cube that I could insert a new taper inside to burn again, the shell proved to be far too fragile, all melted away in the center and nothing left to hold a new taper. I may try this with paraffin wax instead of soy, once I get some paraffin.



My kids (well, to me. They haven't been kids in 15 years or so) have surprised me, asking routine questions about the port placement, the incision, etc. I would not have been surprised if they had completely ignored the whole issue, other than hugging me more lightly. I have yet to take R aside and explain that all this has an impact on her, that she is at greater risk for breast cancer and that her doctor will probably suggest a mammogram sooner than at age 40. She tends to get prickly when you surprise her with new things, which is why I have put this off. But soon.

It is 3 am, time to return to bed for more (hopefully) sleep. I'll finish this later.

OK, photo in place -- looks sorta like a jack-o-lantern, doesn't it?

My therapist has forwarded to me a list of meetings that take place locally for cancer patients, family, and so forth. One of the contact names is of a social worker that helped take care of Mom when she was with hospice, back in 1998. She was very helpful and incredibly patient with Dad and my sister, no small task. So I will definitely check these meetings out, once I have a routine set for the chemotherapy. I was surprised anything was available locally, this is a very small city/large town and we lack a lot of the amenities found in big cities.

The chemo port is still on for Friday, I hope it will be painless and easy, I'm not feeling very brave these days. Knock me out, that's what I want.

Thanks once again for all the caring commentators that read this, it means more to me than I can say.

Bumper sticker for the day: "Never do anything you wouldn't want to explain to the paramedics."

Tired

I had a PET/CT scan yesterday, and am feeling the result in the left side of my chest quite a bit. I see the surgeon tomorrow and I expect he will not be thrilled to hear I put my left arm above my head for the 30 minute scan, resulting in pain and swelling. This means it is not completely healed, here 4 weeks after surgery to remove that breast. I'm too tired to really work up any anxiety. I won't hear the results of the scan, which looks for metastases, for several days.

The ice candle I mentioned is made by putting a (store bought) taper down the center of a cardboard form (like a milk carton) and then packing the container with broken ice cubes. Then you pour molten wax over the ice, and as it melts/cools you end up with voids in the candle. Peel away the cardboard, dump out the melted ice, and you have a candle like swiss cheese, but thanks to the taper can still be burned. The book pictures look neat. Maybe later today.

The rain yesterday was awful, the thunder and lightning nearly continuous for 30 minutes at a time, with squall following squall for hours. I was glad the horses and dogs were in the barn, warm and dry. As it was, the cats were flinging themselves under beds and whatnot the entire time. They would venture out when things let up, only to dash back under, body low and tail between their legs, when the thunder started again. Other than providing dark places to hide, there wasn't much we could do to help them. One cat was very brave, and commandeered all the best window seats, completely unfazed by the commotion. Luckily we never lost power, and all the wind did no damage.





I am still thinking about having all my hair cut very short, before the chemo makes it all fall out. It would save finding all the hair spread on my pillow or going down the drain, and make it look less patchy as it comes out. I don't want to go to my regular hairdresser, as I don't want a total tear-fest. I am thinking I will cancel my appt with her on the first, leave a message about why, and just go to the shop at the mall, where no one knows me. Chicken way out, isn't it? I am not comfortable telling anyone, and make N do it for the family, our good friends, etc. My emotional control is suffering too much to handle the reaction from anyone, first person. All the messages here have been so encouraging, it positively makes my day to read all the kind thoughts being left by all of you.

I sell used books on Abebooks.com and have had quite a few orders the last few weeks. The only problem is that when Windows crashed on this computer and had to be re-installed, it wiped all my files, including the inventory for Abebooks. The uploaded one on the server at Abebooks can be downloaded back to me, but it won't include the location as that is not stored on the server. So finding a book is pretty time consuming, they are listed under book number but not which box they are in. Teach me to do backups more often than (for example) last August, (wince). It does feel good to find new homes for all these old scifi and mystery books, even though I make very little money on them; I don't even clear the original price of them, after the packaging and postage and whatnot. Still it beats pitching them (there are thousands) or donating them to the library or a used book store, where they will (probably) pitch them also. Hate to see that. One of the recent ones was a $2.50 book with $9 shipping to go to the UK, guess it's a hard to find title. I never order anything online where the shipping is more than the item cost; I just add things to the order to bring the shipping back to reasonable. Retail therapy for me, when I don't have the energy to go out to the mall. And I love getting things in the mail, a little like Christmas, when I order most of the gifts online.

Onward and upward, no appointments today, so I can lounge around all day. I bet I look back on these days with nostalgia once the chemo starts.

Bumper sticker for the day: "Whisper my favorite words : "I'll buy it for you" "

Pending

Just a quick update: I saw the oncologist and got (confusing) information about the Time of the Chemotherapy. In all, I will take chemo (herceptin, for those interested) for one year; but in the beginning I will take two other drugs that will make my hair fall out and maybe my fingernails fall off, my mouth to blister, and a whole host of other side effects. I'm at the point where if I could call it all off I would. But I feel like a cog in a wheel, borne along on a path I can't see. Somehow I thought there would be more empathy from my surgeon/oncologist, and certainly more encouragement, but I can't decide if they feel this is so routine for them, or if they are pessimistic about my chances. N asked the onc. about prognosis and he hemmed and hawed and told us about a patient who lived 10 years after chemo. Ten!! I intend to live into my 80s if not more (I'm 60 now). Ten years out is nothing. Maybe they just don't want to get my hopes up. I have a PET/CT scan on Monday the 21st, to look for "mets" (i.e., metastases) which I am sure they will not find because my tumor was found at such a small size; 1/4 inch. I have an echo-cardiogram to get a baseline of my heart function since one of the drugs can cause heart failure. Gulp. I've had an echo before, it's OK.

Moving right along, the earthquake/tsunami in Japan is so horrific in the telling, I can't fathom what it must be like to experience it. And I totally get that many of them won't enter a buiding should there be another quake. We lived for a several years in San Francisco and felt a few minor quakes. At each one, we would stand still and think, are we done? Or is this the big one? It wasn't, but the mini quakes were always a reminder that we lived right on a fault line. When we were in the process of moving here, there was a whole series of mini quakes, and all we could think of was that tiny baby still in the ICU downtown, how vulnerable she was, so tiny. We couldn't get out any too soon for me. But in Japan there is no place to go that hasn't been affected, and now the nuclear reactors blowing up. I don't think the Japanese are being up front with the dire-ness of the problem, I guess it's that Oriental saving face and not wanting outside help that hampers them. I send good thoughts to all of them.

I have been so tired, I haven't done any candles in a while, but there are some I want to try, and hopefully this tired feeling will go away once I have assimilated all the stress of my situation. I want to try an ice candle next, see how that does. I see the surgeon today to get the last staples out, and schedule having an IV port placed in my chest for the chemo. Maybe I'll feel awake enough to do the candle afterwards. If so, a picture here I will place. There is no try, only do, or not do (Yoda wisdom). When we are waiting and waiting so much, we can bring along C's portable DVD player for distraction. I know we have several unseen movies somewhere in this house!

Thank all of you for the lovely comments, it really does help me when I read each one. I just hope I don't become TOTALLY obsessed with this cancer thing, how boring that would be. I will call my BGFF in Florida once I know more and vent to her, poor woman! I wish I could fly down there, but I am tied here for now, and she is going through some tough times now herself. It's so unfair (as if anything in life is fair.)

Bumper Sticker of the day: "Global warming: Live long and perspire."

No news

The only thing new on the breast cancer t-shirt I bought, see here:






That suits me a lot better than ones that say: hope strength faith or whatever the flavor of the month is.

I got the infected laptop back, with a $150 ransom. I know it is worth that, but damn I wish I had thought of starting it up in safemode to delete the bogus file. I reassure myself that it wouldn't have worked anyway. Right?

I went to see the Phys. Asst. on Monday and got the scoop on the local oncology docs. Basically there are two main ways to go: either through the WVU Cancer Center or to the two oncologists in private practice. I'm sure I would do OK in the Cancer Center at the university medical center, but my experience in working at the center is that people sometimes get lost in the shuffle. All new residents in July,
Faculty who take vacation (or just lots or trips), etc. etc. And the WVU hospital is different, because they tend to get clients from a very broad area in the state, and there is a colorful name for the more rural of them, which I won't write here.

As an aside, why is it socially unacceptable to use derogatory terms for African Americans, but still OK to call people in the Appalachian mountains "hillbilly" or "redneck" or "gritley"? When my daughter was in early elementary school -- Catholic school, she was teased about where we live, which is well outside of town -- horses, you know -- called gritley etc. I told her to ask the mouthy girl where she was born, and when she tells you somewhere in the region, or even in far-away Pittsburgh, then tell her you were born in San Francisco, and then see who is gritley and who is not. I thought she could also mention that her parents are both college graduates (a very high percentage of WV kids do not finish high school, much less college) but didn't want her to rub it in. But I got to thinking, why is it OK to do this? Any teacher overhearing this would never blink an eye, but to me it's part of making a child into a thing, and it is OK to browbeat and bully, at least until things reach an incendiary level. Just my two cents worth.

Anyway, using the university also means you will have student docs, nurses,therapists, etc, every time there are rounds, and other times too. I also feel like I'm in a fishbowl. So I'll pass, at least for now.

N finally sold his purple VW bug, his "retirement project". It has been sitting under the old barn roof and covered, so it didn't look too scratchy. It hasn't moved in 5? years, but buyer pumped up the tires put it on tow bars and hauled away to Clarksburg, a 50 mile trip on the interstate. Hope they made it. And man, I'm glad it is gone, it sat there reproaching us for the money we spent to have an undrivable car. So lets don't think of that anymore.


I've held on to this post waiting for the photo at the top, but meanwhile this computer suffered a complete meltdown and I had to restore Windows, wiping all the files on the hard drive. It is now up and running, but has nearly nothing on it. The wiped files included 4 years of income tax records, including 2010 which had not yet been filed. Major headache.

bumper sticker: "I'm marching to a different accordion"

Coping

I didn't get the drain out (it is still in, at 8 days post-surgery) but it hardly matters. When I saw the surgeon he had "unexpected" results to tell me. I have another "infiltrating tumor" in addition to the DCIS before, and he did take 5 lymph nodes (explaining why my incision reached all the way under my pit) and that of the 5 nodes, one has tumor cells also. He told me I need an oncologist "for the next phase" I think his words were. I forgot to ask stage and size, I was still processing an invasive tumor. I go to the surgeon today for the drain and sutures out, I hope to learn more. I have found an oncologist that everyone seems to favor, two partners actually. Will call for an appointment after the stitches are out.

From what I have read, the next step is to get a body scan (MRI or PET, I think) to look for another tumor elsewhere, and then (if found) chemo and/or radiation. The radiation is ironic; I wore a film badge most of my working life as I handled radioisotopes used for biomedical research, and I made certain they were always, with a few exceptions, background.

I hope that nothing else is found, and that removing the breast and the positive node is all that is necessary. Maybe just monitoring. They did take blood for a tumor marker measurement (CA 25-27 I think; why can't I remember to write these things down?!!) I thought at this point I would be looking into mastectomy bras and prostheses, not contemplating chemo/radiation. Life sure has some ups and downs...

I want to thank all of you who have commented, most coming in from a post on "Iwasntbloggedtesterday" it has been both unexpected and thoughtful, to get such support in this crazy time. Retiring in 2006 left an ever-diminishing group of friends, one of those things you don't think about until it happens, though I treasure the support from the ones that remain. It is *awkward* to call someone for lunch and then say "Oh, by the way, I have cancer." Kind of a conversation stopper, don't you think?

Well, if my hair falls out that will save a lot of explaining, I guess. I wonder what my bald head would look like?

I'm coping, one day at a time.

Bumper sticker of the day: " Buckle up! It makes it harder for the aliens to suck you out of your car."

Home again

I came home yesterday from the mastectomy and today I feel somewhat better. The incision is hideous, Frankenstein looking, and itches fiercely even though right next to the incision it is completely numb. I see the surgeon later today to get the drain out, hopefully.

Maybe this is too much information for all of you.

So let us see... I managed to get my laptop computer infected with a damned virus. It will boot, but all that works is the bogus virus screener which infected the computer in the first place. I had been surfing on the topic of prosthetic devices for the boobless, and stumbled on this virus. Now I am afraid to surf again because I don't remember the actual infected site. I'd like to kill the author of this malicious thing, starting with their computers.

The weather here has turned windy and overcast with showers and snow showers, and temps back to to the 20s, after a teasing 60 degree for a couple of days. The wind right now is truly whistling in the trees, I feel like I should cue the music from a Lon Chaney film, dum, dum DUM.

C is over his cold, so it is safe for me to hug him again. R was a real trooper on surgery day, keeping C informed and tracking down my clothes, once I was in my room. The hospital has recently been completely renovated and all the rooms are private, thank god. It allowed me to go to pieces as need be. The nursing staff was great, even the custodians were pleasant. I got the feeling they didn't hear "thank you" very often. The doctor wanted me to go home the day after the surgery, but I held out for one more night. I hadn't even been to the bathroom without help, and I told him my bathroom at home is a fair distance from the bed, and there are no grab bars either. I think he and the nursing staff felt I was malingering but that extra 24 hours made a big difference. Now N has shampooed my hair in the sink, and I feel fairly OK. My insurance company had approved a 5 day stay, so I didn't think 2 was very excessive. And anyway, I'm not trying to impress anyone with my stiff upper lip; wimpy is my forte.

The cats have been extra attentive since I am home, desperately wanting strokes and scratches. Apparently they have been all out of sorts with each other, especially in my bedroom. I hope now they revert to their usual laid-back behavior. So far they have also been good about not walking on me.

I don't know if this is a fairly common thing or not, but in going through the mail that has accumulated I found a lovely tasteful brochure for -- you guessed it-- a funeral home, stressing the need for pre-planning. Isn't that a little weird? Most of the other trash mail was catalogs of spring gardening. They always seem to arrive on the snowiest coldest day of the year, covers all brilliant in red and yellow flowers and enormous shrubbery. Which somehow is never what our garden results are.

I also found a big brochure on Hawaiian Cruises, and I am definitely keeping that at hand.

Bumper sticker of the day: "If you lived in your car you'd be home by now!"

Come Monday

I am to have a mastectomy on Monday morning (today is Saturday). So far the doctor doesn't think I will need chemo or radiation because he feels the cancer is confined to the one breast, but it will also depend on the surgery too. He tells me it is a fast growing aggressive tumor, hence the mastectomy and not a lumpectomy. The kind commenter on the last post is right about needing to take notes; and write down my questions too. The internet information is overwhelming and not all that helpful. I made the grave error (see the "grave" part, a little black humor here) of looking at photos of the "after" of the surgery, I'm pretty sure the full length mirror in the bathroom, just outside the shower, is going to be going bye bye.

Trying to keep busy today and tomorrow with housework, laundry, etc. to make the time go faster. Five thirty Monday morning seems like an eternity away.

Bumper sticker: "Some days you're the windshield... other days you're the bug."

Well well well

This last week has left me feeling like I've taken one too many rides on the roller coaster of life. Wednesday I went to the doctor for my follow-up visit after last week's regular yearly mammogram. He scheduled me for a biopsy on Thursday, and on Saturday, yesterday, he called with the result.

I have breast cancer.

I don't know what he actually said to me. It went like this: blah blah blah cancer blah blah early stage blah blah treatment plan.

So now here I sit, 4 am, and everything circles around and leads me back to that phone call. I've tried to find information online on diagnosis, treatment, side effects and on and on, but all of it fails to penetrate the fog in my brain. As an example, I want to book a cruise to Hawaii for next March, a deluxe cruise with all the bells and whistles, but then I think, better wait; maybe I won't be able to travel then. I am determined to go, I may not have the $$ to do this later, but then, maybe I should...etc. etc.

I can't even focus enough to write here.

Bumper sticker: "40% of all statistics are made up on the spot."

Miserable Weather

Actually, the title above doesn't actually mean the weather here. In fact it is a balmy 27 degrees here, almost swim weather, while the rest (it seems) of the nation is still digging out from the Blizzard Of The Century. The Armageddon of Weather. The End of Days. The weather channel was beside itself with excitement, a chance to provide vital intel on an honest-to-goodness calamity. I personally found it tedious.

When I was in college (waaaayyy back then) there was an Inuit in my chemistry class. This was in South Carolina, and he couldn't get over how we bundled up for what was to him shirt sleeve weather. And he could be seen dashing about campus in shorts and t shirts. It's all in perspective I guess.

I've been doing the candle making thing lately, and I can't believe how something so easy provides so much delight. And luckily I have found someone at R's place of work who burns lots of candles daily, and is more than happy getting some of mine. Which is good, because I am paranoid about leaving a candle burning when I am not sitting right there watching it, I know if I leave the room the thing will go up like a torch. I also keep a fire extinguisher in the kitchen (where I melt and pour the candles), and in my bedroom where most of them are burned. Right now I am in the dining room and keeping a wary eye on the one burning on the table. But the result is, supply vastly outstrips consumption. I'll put a photo down below of some of them.























Bumper sticker of the day: "When I snap you'll be the first to GO"

Awkward family photos

It seemed like a good place to get out and stretch their legs.


Bumper sticker of the day: "If ignorance is bliss, why aren't more people happy?"

The new year

I have to say that this year feels a lot like last year, only colder. And muddier. The area where the sewer dig occurred has that gluey, straw embedded mud that makes your shoes or boots weigh 20 pounds each as the mud oozes higher and higher. Yuck. We had to clean them with a putty knife.



The farrier came yesterday and trimmed the horses' hooves.


The dogs just love that because they like to chew on the hoof parings after the horses are back in their stalls. Let's forget the other things the dogs like to eat... that's yucky too. This seems to be today's theme. My friend Pixie is always amazed when I recount all the cost of having horses (hay, grain, stall bedding, foot care, etc.), and the amount of work entailed in keeping them at home. I don't think of that much, but of course the horses do tie us down; it's hard to find a horse sitter; a *house* sitter is a snap in comparison. These will be the last horses I have, I think. I've enjoyed them immensely, as I have the dogs, but life would be so much simpler without either. And as for the cats, there are far too many of them in the house, more even than the strays that adopted us at the barn. This is what happens when I go to the pound to get *one* kitten; I come home with three. But their personalities are so different, for example the ones that want lap time and the ones who jump off your lap immediately. I just wish the shedding didn't coat the house and us with hair whenever I skip a thorough vacuum job. Yuck, again. I've worn out four vacuums over the years. In fact, one less-than-thrilling Christmas I got three vacuums for gifts (a small one, a medium and a large, sorta like Goldilocks without the porridge), I ask you? It is funny (or not) how a woman goes from being gifted for herself and becomes an extension of the house? Anyway, I am forcibly reminded of why I prefer autumn to winter.

A photo by my daughter:



Bumper sticker for the day: "What would MOM do?"

The end is nigh!

Well, end of 2010 anyway. It has been a pretty good year. Only one funeral, no economic disasters (only a minorish sewer problem), no pets died, no car accidents. Depression pretty much under control, weight going down, slowly, but down. A nice Christmas, too. May 2011 be as stress-free.

Today is the first day in several weeks above freezing, and the snow is for now, slushy and slick. Tomorrow the high is to be 50! hard to believe, but welcome, at least for now, although the ensuing mud won't be pretty. Maybe it will be somewhat windy, to dry the ground out. The horses haven't been out in weeks, these geriatric beasts don't need to break a bone when they cavort around after a long confinement, or slip and fall even. I feel sure that is what caused Blondie so much pain that she couldn't stand, and which ultimately caused her death. I'm not taking any chance of a repeat.


Blondie and me, ca 1995



My Christmas gifts were an eclectic mix. The "big" one is a brand new set of cookware (Calphalon). Our old pots and pans were wedding gifts, 40 years ago, and in dire need of replacement; but I never felt justified in getting a $$$ set since what we had worked at least. But what a difference! I may actually find myself in the kitchen more. The majority of the rest of my gifts is candle making stuff, beeswax and molds, which I am itching to try out. Maybe on Saturday.

That's all for now...

Bumper sticker of the day: "Warning: May contain nuts"

Christmas Eve

All the shopping and present wrapping is DONE. One small thing I ordered has not come, but that's OK. We will be having lovely steaks for Christmas dinner, baked potato, and pie. Maybe dinner rolls. The best part about the menu? No all day cooking marathon, and no leftovers.

I mentioned the plumbers coming in my last post, and so here is the scoop on that.

The sewer pipe in the back yard had become crushed by the roots of an enormous ash tree. We took the tree down last year when it failed to leaf out (i.e., dead) but of course the roots were still there. These plumbers brought their pipe camera and showed N the mess in the line, explaining why every few months we have had to have the line snaked out. No one else had tried to look at the pipe.

Anyway, the only repair was to *DIG* down to tie into the broken line above the break (just as it leaves the house) and then dig a new path to get to the HAU unit (the digester). In the snow, not so bad; but of course the digging needed to be done under our deck; and under the part of the deck where a storage building lived. We had to empty the shed (into my dining room right now, lovely), then the excavator tore the railing off the deck so that we four could sliiide the shed off the deck and into the back yard (but it can't stay there, the ground is too sloped).

Then the excavator tore the rest of the deck off (took about 15 minutes to destroy what took weeks to make), then began to dig. Cut the water line (oops!). Got that fixed, and finally there was the sewer pipe. After that it went pretty fast, mainly making sure the run is downhill (where all good s**t flows). And finally, tearing out the stump of the offending tree, so NO MORE roots.

But the price for all this was (eap!) $5300.

Below are the image post mayhem.

The torn out decking:



The "Root" of the problem:










The lonely shed, cruelly shoved from its home on the deck:




And the scene of the crime:









The snow kind of hides the raw edges of the mess. What will we do with the backyard now? Wait until spring, or better yet, summer. And the dining room? oh well.

Bumper Sticker for the day: "Vaje de: The feeling that you're doing it wrong all over again"

Nearly Christmas

Well, Christmas is still 14 days away. So I can safely procrastinate gift buying for at least another week. What would Christmas be without frantic trips to the mall on Christmas eve?

Now comes the dreaded task of wrapping presents. We don't have any bows on hand, because last year they were so tacky we pitched them all. But then I got to thinking, even nice bows are a waste; the cats chew on them until the are all spitty and punctured, if not carried away. So if we forgo the bows altogether, how much difference will it make? None. So, bare bones packages it is.

You would think that I am all bah-humbuggy about the jolly season, and you would be halfway right. If it were left up to me, there would be a Christmas tree, no outdoor decorations, and no inside decorations. I do decorate a great tree, but only on three sides, because who looks at the back side? It makes wrapping the garland a snap, because you only go back and forth, and not around and around, getting it all tangled. The tree is pre-lit, so that is the worst part already done. When I still had to do that, I would use many many strands as I wrapped it up and down each main branch, what a pain. My ultimate goal would be a tabletop tree that is completely decorated, I'd just pull it out of the box and plug it in. Done.

The weather here has been bitterly cold for these parts, down in the low teens at night, night after night. The horses are all rugged up in their winter woolies and Willie has been moved to another stall until we can deal with the water leak under one corner of his old stall from the barn sink drain line. It isn't a problem for the dogs, who now can go in there, as they don't weigh 1000 lbs and stand in that spot all the time, mashing the mat underfoot. Pets are so much fun in the winter.

The plumbers are arriving momentarily (you don't want to know) and so I will leave this for now.

Bumper sticker for today: "Time flies when you're totally bewildered."