Nightmare Before Christmas, Part III: the Our Holiday Descent into Hell. AGAIN. Tour.

Glioma. (glee-O-ma) Noun. A cancer of the brain that begins in glial cells (cells that surround and support nerve cells).

Worse? More specifically, high grade glioma.

We are reminded once again (at high cost) how very precious life is.

 

Brilliant Perspective: Work Is Easy

It's another bit of wisdom on a sticky-note from Doug Savage. Subscribe to his chicken-scratches HERE.

 

Serious Cause for Thanks

A year ago this month I was recovering from a lumpectomy.

It was my first time participating in NaBloPoMo, and I chose to participate specifically because I thought writing everyday would be a good diversion from whatever I might need diverting from, and perhaps a helpful therapy device.

As a diversion, writing about the experience wasn't always successful. As a form of therapy, I was grateful for the outlet.

My story from last November (which is accessible by clicking on the "November 2007" link in the archives section, just to the right) has a happy ending. The surgery, performed on the 6th, was textbook perfect. The results, which I received on the 9th, showed that my breast was cancer-free. My recovery was rapid; I never needed all the pain-killers provided in the prescription.

For all of these things I am deeply thankful.

I am also thankful for preventative medicine measures such as mammograms. Having said that, I should explain that my mammogram did not find my lump. I found it while in the shower. (Soapy water is the best method of discovery!) In fact, after I found the lump, neither mammogram nor ultrasound could definitively find it, although the lab techs were very able to confirm that it was there.

That was a terribly, profoundly, disgusting moment!! I had to admit to a small amount of relief that someone else was able to find the cause of worry that I had, yet it confirmed for me that I really did have something to worry about!!! The machines told me there was no lump. The humans in charge of the technology agreed (with me, not their tech-toys) that something was there. At least the humans were able to laugh with me and relate with me about the emotional conundrum I faced: "The good news is that we know you're not crying 'wolf', however, the bad news is that you may have something life-endangering growing inside you."

Again, that ended up not to be the case. I DID learn that the greatest benefit of preventative medecine is not always the procedures used, but the contact and reassurances one receives. I felt well-cared-for at each turn. That made a tremendous difference.

I have an obligation and an opportunity to get a mammogram every year. While I still must do my own self-exams, I feel like this clinical reminder is as helpful as anything else. It's as official as doing taxes and renewing license plates and voting. By putting that appointment on the calendar, I am making a commitment to my health.

I check my husband's breasts now and again, too. Breast cancer runs in his family. Never forget that men have breasts, and can be vulnerable to breast cancer! Because breast cancer awareness is not as promoted among men, it tends to be more lethal when it is finally detected, as it often goes undetected until a late stage of growth and has metastasized.

I celebrate my grim and joyful anniversary much as I spent my recovery: snuggling on the couch with my pets. Just for a moment, though. Life marches steadily forward, so I cannot stay here long! I embrace the activities with which I will fill the rest of my day.

I do enjoy this quiet moment as a gift.

 

Oh, HAIL No...

Looks like the thunderstorms which plagued (but didn't dampen) the Garrison Keillor performance last night are hardly finished! It's been a very long time since I've been in hail. And this I had to run into! I had to rush out to clean the garage to put the car away.

 

Extending Boundaries

I walked the few steps it took to go next door and paid a visit on Shirley.

You know, that's the first time I've done that in the 4 years we've lived here. I think that's a little sad. We both kind of danced around that -- that neither one of us had taken the time to reach out, until now. But we both also acknowledged that we both have many things that have kept us in our separate little worlds. We have pledged that we'll try to be more neighborly in future days.

It's not that we've been hostile, or even complacent; far from it! We've always waved and smiled and said 'hello'. We have both let other life commitments stay in the way of our becoming better acquainted. Now that her ailing husband has passed, perhaps she will have a few fewer stressors on her life, and a bit more time for her own needs, fewer things tearing her away from her home.

Shirley shared with me that she had a stroke 3 years back and really never had time to recover from that, for having to care for her husband. Perhaps now she'll be able to take some time for her recovery. She is grieving, that's certain. What is also certain is her knowledge through her faith that her Allen is in a better place now than he was in his last days. I am grateful to say that she has a good support system, too. There were a lot of well-wishers and comfort-bringers calling by phone and vehicle.

I pledged to her (as I pledged to the neighborhood at the recent block meeting) that I would be a more regular presence on my porch. And I invited her to join me whenever she sees me out there. She reciprocated, and pointed out the chairs that have been put on the porch in the past few days.

We had a very nice conversation. Warm. Genuine. Kind. Neighborly. I regret that it took her husband's passing to initiate it, but I am grateful that we have finally had this kind of exchange.

It seems to extend the boundaries of 'home' beyond the borders of our property.

 

Oh, *REALLY*??! (snerk)

The seal in the lower right corner of the "GOOD NEWS!!" bearer claims it's from HUD. I don't know if I should open it or take it directly to the compost bin...

Hallo Your Name to the Reverberate Hills

My community has once more exceeded my expectations. We attended a meeting of our street with representatives of City Hall this evening. It ended perhaps an hour ago.

Now our street measures only two blocks long, so we have relatively few households. And from that number, one must remove the houses which are vacant (sadly, quite a few) and those occupied by renters (traditionally, transitional, and therefore uninterested with any real commitment to the neighborhood). Amazingly, there were probably about 20 people in the meeting room by the time the meeting ended. Yes, that means people trickled in as the meeting progressed, ourselves included. Nowadays, folk do not have traditional 9-5 work schedules the way they used to in years past.

It's good to see so much interest in preserving the integrity of our neighborhood. It's good to see that people care. I was delighted to see faces I'd never seen before. I made a commitment to sit on my porch more this summer. I plan to do that as soon as it's warmer. I want to get to know these fine faces better.

It all started with one person calling City Hall with a complaint about one of the vacant houses. One person, one phone call, one cry for help. She was heard; assistance was offered to the community. All because of that one cry.

There was real warmth in that room. There were genuine smiles, and very robust handshakes. We solved some nagging neighborhood problems. I liked the friendliness behind the laughter. Names were exchanged. "OK, now which one do you live in?" ... "Oh! Sure! I'm just across the street, a bit further east, in the green one. We have lots of flowers..."

I think today is when the real thaw took place. I don't think we have to worry about late season frost anymore.

 

Welcome Home!

Ahh. The natural order is once more restored. Bert is finally coming to me voluntarily. (She'd been beaten up pretty badly by the other two cats -especially Morgan- to the point of being nearly feral.)

Cleo has joined the two of us on the couch. She likes to snuggle with both me AND Bert, as my 2 girls get along quite well. I suspect Bert missed her canine champion while we were gone. (Cleopatra had a 'spa week' in Strongsville with Grandpa Oerkfitz. :-} Grandpa spoils her.)

This is the very thing I missed while we were gone, and my deepest regret about the delay.

Funny thing, though? A little over a day into the trip, my sinuses were clear. Clear like they've not been in years! Not an hour after returning home, they were full and draining, and my eyes were burning. *sigh* These cats are killing me! But it is the death I wholeheartedly choose. Give me bonds of love every single time! These are the sacrifices that are worthwhile.

 

The Vultures Have Been Circling...

My husband got in a car accident almost 3 weeks ago. This is not new news on this blog. There are pictures. Scroll down.

He's fine. So's the girl who caused the accident. Our car was almost totaled. The very most important thing, though, is that no one was hurt. We are all super happy, grateful beyond expression, and very relieved about that.

What's hilarious? (Yes, I always manage to find the funny angle.) Starting a week ago Tuesday we've been innundated by phone calls -- they even got my husband's cell phone, the creeps! -- and junk mail. ALL of it to do with the accident.

Chiropracters, lawyers, insurance companies, and doctors' offices from as far away as NEW MEXICO (!!!) (we're in Ohio) have copies of the accident report.

(WE don't even have copies of the accident report. We got paperwork yesterday from our insurance company to the effect that they may not yet, either. Well, they were missing something when they sent the letter; Rick said they were no longer missing whatever it was. I'm not worried.)

When they call, they have two modes of attack: clandestine or sugary sweet. My favorite is 'clandestine', because they think they're such tough nuts to crack. When they're being all cloak and dagger, they try to refuse to speak to me, insisting only to speak to THE VICTIM (insert dramatic orchestral sting) and claiming computer failure when I get too close to the truth. >*snort*< Dorks. The sugary sweet approach involves the pretense of caring, soft tones of voice, even once, "Awww". >*snort*< Posers.

I have nothing against chiropracters, law practices, or the medical industry. It's the sheer volume of calls and mail we are getting, AND the wide scope from which they're coming that's ridiculous (New Mexico?? Honestly!). And the insurance companies: changing horses in mid-stream, much? Sure, that'll happen.

I'm close to changing the phone message to the Spamalot song, "He Is Not Dead Yet".

If they ever come to the door, I'm armed with a bright pink and yellow squirt gun filled with very sugary lemonade, targeted on suede and silk. Bring it!

 

Shared Perspective

Bert anticipates that I have some heavy-duty reading and computer work to do. She's right about at my eye level, and purring like a well-oiled Allis Chalmers tractor.

It's been a crazy morning.

A visit from a repair guy cost $350 and he left promising to return in about 10 days when the part arrives. The bad news? It's for the washing machine. The good news? If we want clean underwear (...and we DO...) we'll be seeing our family more than we usually do.

Other news? Ugh. It's looking like The Powers That Be may decide to total our car that was involved in the accident Saturday. We *do* have a 2nd car, and often only one of our cars is ever used by us at one time, but on the days when both of us need to be somewhere very different from each other, being suddenly a one-car family will be a challenge. Worse yet? Both cars are leased. We don't yet know what the liability for payment will be, but we're trying to stay optimistic. We still had a bit more than a year on the agreement, so there's a chance the car will be replaced. Of course, we are still clinging to the extremely happy outcome that no one was hurt. Cars are just things, and ultimately replaceable. People are far more important, and completely irreplaceable.

Tonight, though, we both get to help with the beginnings of voting on proposals for grants that will help the neighborhoods of Cleveland. This, I have to say, is a tremendously gratifying thing. I am so excited to be a part of this very worthy process. Reading through the One Page Proposals, these beginnings of ideas, gives me such hope for our struggling city. There are so many people who care!

This is just the first tier of voting for the grant dispersal, and we do have a lot of work to do. I think we have something around 150 submissions, then once we've 'culled the herd' we'll ask for more detailed information from our group. What fun it will be to give money for good work! Rick and I belong to a giving circle called the Cleveland Colectivo, and to see the projects that got funded in 2007, first of all, follow the link. Then scroll down to the bottom of the page, in the middle to the section titled "Six Projects Funded", and there's a link beneath the list to give further information. Throughout the year we were kept up to date on the progress of each group's project. Each was amazing! So completely impressive; Nueva Luz had me in tears, their project was that moving. And so very necessary.

Life is full of challenges, some are good and some are (*sigh*) ones we wish we didn't have to face. They all make us grow. Growth hurts. Sometimes it downright sucks. But if we don't grow we don't progress, and without progress there's no life. I do want to live. So I'll deal with the pain. It'll make the pleasure that much sweeter. And perhaps I'll learn to purr like Bert.

December 26 Redux

Dammit. Another relapse. This time with vomiting.

Time Passes Slowly in the ER

The unmistakable trappings of a hospital room. We are in the ER waiting to be discharged (actually, first we'd like the results of the x rays) but our emergency is not as urgent as those we are hearing around us. It's really a post-car accident precaution. So we sit and read the magazines we brought from home and pray for fellow patients whose voices happen to rise above the white noise. And we fervently hope we will be leaving soon.

Saturday Night Couch Potatoes

Here I am (that fleshy blob between the two heads is my hand) with The Usual Suspects. My girls Cleo and Bert are helping me watch the Pittsburgh Steelers lose to the Jacksonville Jaguars in the first weekend of playoff action. We are paying special attention to the commercials. It seems like *some* ads are already gearing up to Superbowl-level quality (Old Spice deodorant). Sadly, there are still so many others that, to reach the heights of scraping the underbelly of barely mediocre, would apparently overtax their creativity departments to the point of injury (local car dealerships, network show promos, Rx drug ads). Bert and Cleo are more compelling when they play tag! Still, this is nice. Very cosy.

Springerles

I finally made Christmas cookies.

Less Mucousy, More Snuggly

As when I was recovering from my lumpectomy (wow, was it really 2 months ago?), my 2 faithful heating pads Cleopatra (dog at my ankle) and Bert (cat in my arm) are providing comfort. MOSTLY. When they aren't squabbling over who gets to be closest to me, or in which position, or stepping on each other. Otherwise, it's idyllic. Could be more so if I could breathe without hacking up a lung.

The Mucus-Maker Speaks

Too sick to write today. ;-( <groan>

Urrrgh...

I woke up with this in my chest.

'Nuff sed. >koff!< >koff!!!!< ~moan~

Gravity stays on ALL weekend...

Today's the day the tree came down. Can't blame this on the dog! Cleo was in bed with us. Nope, this was AAAALLLLLLLL feline!

And this ornament? I found it well away from its origin on the tree in the living room. It was on the opposite end of the dining room, right by the corner between the dining room and breakfast nook, near the microwave. I was reheating last night's coffee. This ornament, along with the huge 'wormhole' in it, was what got me to look up at the tree in the first place.



No, I'm not in the habit of looking at the tree right away yet. I'll get there about the time to take it down. I also hadn't had my morning jolt of caffeine. With a shock like this, however, you find you can go quite a few minutes without coffee.

And the wormhole in the apple? I think we have very fuzzy worms.

Julehjerte - Yule Hearts made of fabric

Julehjerte - Yule Hearts made of fabric
Originally uploaded by sunspotting.

It's the last day of November.

That means two things to me right now: NaBloPoMo (National Blog Posting Month; you blog every day during the month of November. The incentive? People who have succeeded are chosen at random for kick-ankle prizes.) is over at midnight. And I did it. Woo Hoo!!!! I joined mid-week the first week, and I managed to do it! Despite surgery and a holiday and dozens of miniscule distractions. OK: I guess I can do anything. Cool!

The other thing: Tomorrow's December, and I really need to kick things into high gear to get this house into Christmas decoration condition. This house hasn't been decorated for Christmas since the first year Rick lived here.

That was 3? 4? years ago.

My mom died of lung cancer in 2004. I haven't been able to pull out our decorations since.

When I was a kid there was a Christmas movie based on a book (they were quite faithful, too) called The House Without A Christmas Tree. The household consisted of a widower and his school-aged daughter, and she really wanted to decorate for Christmas. He refused. She won a Christmas tree in a raffle. There was a heart-melting moment, a reconciling of spirits, a realization that in addition to mourning one must celebrate life. I was probably a little young to see it but I definitely 'got it', though it has troubled me all this time.

That is, until I found myself in the shoes of both of those characters.

This year it seems I am the one with the melting of the heart and the reconciling and so forth. So I am making ornaments and trying to muster inspiration to clean (ugh... any thoughts?) and getting up the gumption (LOVE that word! It's not just for grumpy old men!) to climb around the boxes in the attic for our Christmas stash.

The best part about Christmas stuff being out? THE BOOKS!! And the music, too!

So here is the beginning of what I am making to give. There will be more! More colors, more designs. But for now, I need to get to work on the living room. It's going to be Christmas, and this year, I want to decorate for it!

Cleopatra's Pedicure

This is one very mad little dog.

Of course, NO one's ever thrilled about a visit to the doctor, so why should we expect the vet's office to be any different?

You can see it's not much fun for the techs, either. The muzzle and padded towel roll are there for THEIR protection: Cleopatra Bones is a biter. Just when she's being examined! I'm sure it's all the poking and proding and blood-drawing (ugh... I'm not good with that, either) and other humiliations thrust upon her little canine self, precariously perched on a table much taller than our dining room table. NOT that she would have ANY INKLING of an idea of what that might be like... no, I've never caught her there...

Anyway, this visit, she got her nails trimmed too. That's what's happening in this picture, that's the source of the doggy grimace. Notice there's one tech holding the dog and one tech doing the clipping. It takes two people to do this deed. She's 25 lbs, muzzled, and wrapped in a padded towel, screaming bloody murder, shooting daggers from her eyes.

It's important to me, at this point especially, to make it absoutely clear that our veterinary office is wonderful. They take great care of all of our pets, we trust them completely. A lot of our friends take their pets there, some traveling clear across town to do so! We would recommend them to anyone needing veterinary services. Contact me if you're in the Cleveland area and need a vet! This is the place you want. Cleo is not in discomfort because of mishandling. Cleo manufactures her own special brand of discomfort: Cleo is a drama queen.

Nevermind. She got treats from the techs. (Which she refused to eat until she got into the car, well away from 'THOSE people', cheeky little thing!) She got a treat at home. She'll be fine. Actually, she's already mostly recovered. (*derisive snort* mostly! HA!) She just needs a little something for that dramatic streak she's got. I guess she hasn't heard that Broadway's on strike!