Monday

It was a long night...Tessa is having trouble sleeping these days, so she climbed into my bed and tossed and turned with me. Right on schedule, at midnight, her children's Motrin wore off, her fever climbed, and she felt awful. I think I actually slept between about 4am and 7am but the rest of the night was long.

Some of the restlessness was mine, not Tessa's. I've been having sleeping issues for months (years? I've lost track....but it's a post-diagnosis thing) and had resorted to taking Ambien CR at night, but of course I don't want to do that when I'm caring for Tessa; I need a clear head for her, and the other night she was up and crying and Ryan cared for her and I didn't even notice because the Ambien kept me sleeping. I didn't want to risk that with Ryan out of town. Anyway, I lay in bed tossing and turning myself. (The only good news? I read "The Constant Princess" in its entirety; it's one of the Phillapa Gregory series about the women of the court of King Henry VIII. Not as good as "The Other Boleyn Girl" but a good distraction anyway.)

But this morning, Tessa is playing ponies, singing to herself, and seemingly content. Her sweet voice is music to my ears; she appears to be feeling much better at this moment. She did have another Motrin this morning (she was hot, then cold, and she said her bones ached) but either it's working or she is starting to feel better.

On a totally different note...

A few days ago I watched Oprah (rather unusual for me) and it had an anti-clutter guy who has just published a book called "Does this clutter make my butt look fat?" Despite the silly title, I liked his premise: we clutter in lots of ways, and head, heart, home, and hips are all connected. Sometimes we walk in to a home with clutter, and our heads feel overwhelmed, we get sad, and we eat to avoid. It's pretty simple, but logical to me.

Anyway, it inspired me to do some decluttering in our home. It has been therapeutic; I don't feel like talking, I don't feel like thinking, and I don't know what TO do when I'm not caring for Tessa, so I started decluttering. The office was the first line of attack, as it's the worst part of our house, and it had gotten to the point where it wasn't functional. It's an ugly room (no carpet because of the flood, mismatched stuff, in need of paint, used to be a kitchen for the MIL suite, and the clutter-collector of our house), but it didn't need to be that ugly. I still haven't done the filing, but it's a billion times better.

I decluttered the top of the fridge. I decluttered my closet. I decluttered my dresser. I even decluttered some toys in the playroom (Tessa hasn't noticed yet; I think that this is a sign that she didn't care about those toys).

I want to get rid of some stuff. The theory is that too much stuff weighs one down. The declutter guy (Peter? I can't remember) said that clutter falls into two categories: "I might need it one day" and "memorabilia." In looking around our house, I think I'm relatively good with the memorabilia (I'm comfortable with it, in any case) but the "might need it" category is ridiculous.

Case in point: an old ski jacket. I got it when we lived in Bellingham, and it wasn't perfect when I got it. The style is outdated (duh), it's not best quality, and it's a size large. And yet....I kept holding on to it, thinking, well, I might need it some day, or we'll have a guest who needs it. Obviously that's ridiculous: I don't think I'd worn it in 8 years. It's clutter. It's in perfect shape, barely worn, but it's not useful. (It's gone now.)

There's also the consumerism component of all of this. The clutter buys into the "more is better" philosophy of Americans, and I'm (pardon the pun) not buying it.

My friend Jenny lived in Scotland for a time (hi Jenny) and has shared some of the European ideas about stuff (things) with me, and I have spent some time thinking about them. She said that having shabby, hand-me-down things in Scotland was a sign of class and sometimes of wealth. The thing is, the shabby things belonged to the upper class.

This bears some thinking.

I like it.

Hand me down things, of quality, speak of heritage. It speaks of understanding value. It's anti-consumerist. Things made to last; things meant to be handed down; things meant to stand the test of time...these are signs of wealth. Not the newest thing. Not the latest color.

My living room is like this; Grandpa Goddard's beautiful bookcase (our wedding gift); G.G.'s piano; Aunt Grace's dining room table and chair's; Mom & Dad S.'s sideboard.

My family room, downstairs, is old, but not quality....it's more garage-sale than anything else. I don't think that the philosophy is about having ugly things, it's about recognizing that quality things transcend trends and don't need replacing all the time. My family room needs work (although it's perfect for little kids jumping around, and it IS comfortable) and that's okay; my philosophy isn't to just take whatever, it's to recognize "enough".

So, in part of my pro-environment, pro-pocketbook, pro-spiritual quest, I'm trying to remember all of this. I'm trying to remember that the clutter IS making my butt look fat (ha), and that we have enough. That I do not need to collect bits of this and that just in case. That, like writing, the editing is more important than just about anything else. (Not that there is any editing here, but that's another problem to tackle another day.)

These are random thoughts, distracting me from the problems of the day. Today I'll tackle a new corner of clutter (there are always more) while Tessa rests.

Sunday update

It's been a quiet day. The good part of the quiet involved snuggling with Tessa, reading stories, and playing Play-Doh. The not-so-great part involved Tessa throwing up some more, fever, chills, lethargy.

Fortunately, I'm not nauseaus, and my headache has stayed at a dull roar.

Ryan called, safe on the east coast. He's had a long day, too, but I think this time I'd be happy to trade places.

It looks like we're going to have another quiet day tomorrow. I'd be hapyp if that form of quiet didn't involve any vomit. (Please.)

Triple sick

1. Detergent allergy.
...morphed into...
2. Upper respiratory bug (minor cold with post-nasal drip, sniffles, irritated throat with small cough)
...and now added...
3. Bug with throwing up and fever.

This morning Tessa was at 100.6. We gave her Motrin and her fever seemed to come down and her energy came up. We showed up for our 2:50 doctor's appt and Tessa christened the bushes (yuck) outside the lobby...thank goodness we made it back outside. In the doctor's office, her fever was 101.8 or something like that.

Apparently the vomiting lasts about a day in most kids; the fever lasts about 3 days. The vomiting is usually followed by diarrhea for a couple of days.

This is not improving my mood, needless to say. Fortunately, my mama instincts are strong, and I can put aside my own grumpiness for the sake of my daughter.

Ryan leaves at 6am tomorrow for the airport, returning late Wednesday night. (Business trip.)

Let's hope I don't get this. Let's hope Ryan doesn't get it on his trip. Let's hope I don't totally lose my mind dealing with it.

And our apologies to Anna, Kelton & Camille. According to the doc, Tessa was probably contagious starting yesterday, and Beth & Heather took care of Tessa at various times yesterday.

Please wish me luck with all of this...

Health updates

I'm still plodding along. I'm doing all of the "right" things to get my head in shape, and I'm paying close attention to my symptoms etc. I'll get through it.

Tessa has developed an illness. This morning she awoke with a fever (100.6, but I'm more concerned about symptoms for a week leading up to this). We have a doctor's appointment at 2:40 today at the children's clinic in West Seattle.

My mom is hanging in there, and discovering how tedious and difficult bedrest can be.

Ryan leaves for a business trip tomorrow, returning late Wednesday.

We will miss Nina's birthday party today. Happy birthday, Nina.

Another day

I am slogging through it. I will get through it, but the path doesn't seem very clear. Ugh!

I took the old (smaller) dosage of Lexapro last night. The therapist pointed to some studies that show higher doses cause racing thoughts, etc. in some patients, particularly younger patients (teenagers). I'm no teenager but there is a correlation to my increased dosage and my crazy thoughts.

I just want to get past this. I want to be my usual, happy self. NOW. I don't even know myself when I feel like this.

Meds gone wrong

For some people, anti-depressants have an opposite effect.

I spoke on the phone to my therapist, and she fears that this may be happening to me. I'm cutting my dosage in half to see if this helps. Counterintuitive, perhaps, but I'm game for almost anything.

Thursday

My mood is bleak. If I snap at you, I apologize in advance. I'm trying to get in to my therapist to figure out what's going on: is it meds gone wrong, or I have I finally gone crazy?

My mom is coming home from the hospital today. Love you, Mom.

Arghhh

I feel depression sweeping over me.

WHAT IS WITH THAT?

It's scary. It's strange. I can intellectualize it, but I can not seem to overcome it.

I doubled my Lexapro dosage last week, and I'm hoping it helps. But I don't like this one bit.

Mom's okay!

We spent the evening with my parents. We were able to see my mom as she was being wheeled out of recovery, and we spent a couple of hours with her.

My mom looks fabulous. It was hard to believe that she had just been on an operating room table for a couple of hours! We had a nice chat. :-)

I love you, Mom. I'm there for you - see you tomorrow!

New Culprit: Laundry Detergent

News update on Tessa's "dust allergy."

The stuffed animals were NOT the culprit!

At gymnastics today, as I got Tessa into her outfit, I noticed red bumps on her belly, and realized that she had hives. She said that they itched, and I couldn't figure it out...

Until I realized. The other change was laundry detergent! We switched brands (temporarily, I promise!) and Tessa is having a reaction.

Last night, Tessa was wearing some warm, fleecy PJs, and in the middle of the night Ryan switched her into some lighter cotton ones because she was pulling at her PJs and Ryan thought she might be hot. After that, Tessa slept much better. The cotton PJs hadn't been washed in the new detergent, but the others had.

When I thought that the problem was dust, I washed Tessa's favorite stuffed animals...in the new detergent. After gymnastics, I handed her a (slightly damp) Bear so that she could possibly start sleeping in the car. Her reaction? Instant coughing and a sneeze or two.

I have no doubt that it's the detergent. It's amazing to me that it can cause such a reaction!

Tonight we stopped at Trader Joe's to get new detergent. Our usual TJs detergent wasn't available....let's hope that the liquid version is the same chemical content as our usual powder, because I don't want to go through this again.

Needless to say, I'm sick of laundry. I've washed Tessa's sheets and stuffed animals twice today, and now need to go through her closet and re-wash things...

Prayers for Mom

In about an hour, my mom will be admitted to the hospital to have a knee replacement surgery. We will be praying that the surgery goes well, that her pain is manageable....and that this is the solution to resolve her knee problems and get her up and going in her "usual" self.

Mom, I love you. We are looking forward to supporting you. We are there for you!

My mother has waited for me to do countless surgeries (okay, 11 - 3 sinus ones in my teens and early twenties; 8 breast cancer related ones recently). She has prayed for me, stood by me, taken care of me. Now, it's my turn to care for her. I'm looking through cookbooks for perfect meals to bring, making cards with Tessa, and getting ready to mother my mother.

It is with gratitude in my heart that I do this. I am so lucky to have my mom, and to have her support. I'm glad to show her with my actions how I feel about her.

Please include my mom in your prayers, and throw in some prayers for my dad, too, as he's understandably concerned for his beloved wife.

Ah HA!

Two nights ago, Tessa coughed through the night....a light, dry cough, but it lasted all night. We thought "uh oh" and canceled all activities....and she seemed fine all day yesterday, so we thought we'd over-reacted.

Last night, Tessa coughed more violently ALL night. She cried, tossed and turned, and we brought her into our bed to monitor her and comfort her. It was a rough night for the whole family, and I started to be very concerned about poor Tessa.

Then, this morning, she's her chipper self. (Four cups of coffee, and I'm still not fully awake, but that's another story.)

I called the nurses' line at the clinic, totally confused by this turn of events.

The nurse asked all the usual questions: Fever? No. Croup/barking cough? No. Pain? No, only in the throat from coughing.

Then, the new question: Anything new in her room? Any new possible dust source? Ummmm, no. Any new stuffed animals?

YES! We got a couple of hand-me-down darling stuffed animals from a friend who had outgrown them, and she loves them, and started sleeping with them. BINGO! That's it!

Phew. What a relief. All of said stuffed animals are being washed, along with Blanket and Bear, and all bedding. We hope for a quiet night tonight.

Quiet Sunday

Yesterday, at the end of the day, Tessa got unusually quiet, complained of achiness and an earache, and fell asleep before dinner as she sat on my lap. Uh-oh - a sleepy girl is a sure sign of illness.

She coughed lightly through the night, and she's been sneezing. Another cold has arrived, it seems. We're keeping the tissue box close at hand.

She's in good spirits this morning, but we are having a quiet day. Ryan went to church because it was our turn to bring refreshments and one of us needed to be there; it made sense for Ryan to attend because he'll be on a business trip next week and will need to miss out. I'm always sad to miss the service, because I find it so calming, but there will be lots of opportunities to attend.

This morning I find myself humming hymns to myself, so it feels like I'm present at WSUU even though I'm here.

Tessa and I have been working on lettering and counting this morning, sitting at the kitchen table together. G.G. gave Tessa a great book with wipe-clean pages and markers, and Tessa has been practicing counting and writing her numbers. I'm glad that she is at last expressing an interest in counting - like her Mama she's much more interested in words than numbers, but there is room for balance.

A quiet day. Time for puzzles, stories, and maybe even an episode of Clifford.

Tonight I hope to attend the yoga class at the YMCA - that will be some good centering time.

Saturday

I got the response from Dr. Rinn, and went off the Neurontin. We'll see how things change. Last night the hot flashes woke me up several times, whereas on Neurontin I was sleeping better, but c'est la vie.

Today we planned on going snowshoeing with some PEPS friends, but the weather didn't cooperate - too much snow. The passes were still closed last night, and we decided that even if they opened in time, we didn't want to risk avalanches, snow on the roadway, etc. Bummer. We'll try again next weekend.

We did have a fun morning, though. The group that had planned on snowshoeing got together at Lincoln Park for some play time, and it was great to be outdoors on a dry day. We had an impromptu lunch afterwards ("I've got cheese" "I've got soup" "I'll bring fruit") and everyone, adults and kids, had a great time.

Now, Tessa and I are home, Ryan's on a ride with Paul, and the evening looks quiet. That's nice, actually.

hmmm

I have the gift, or the burden, of being pretty introspective.

On the one hand, my brain is able to say, "I find it interesting that you are so unmotivated. This looks like creeping depression, and there are steps you need to take to improve things. First...." (and then a list ensues, like call therapist, adjust anti-depressant, do meditation, keep gratitude lists, etc. etc.).

And on the other hand, I just want to pout and moan and be a grouch, and frankly, I feel rather entitled to do so.

I'm looking into side effects of Neurontin and Actonel, because those are my new drugs, and I feel like my mood has altered for the worse in the last week, since I started them.

I'm okay. The world is not ending. It just takes a lot more effort to be on time, to read my email, to return phone calls, to fold laundry than it should. This too shall pass.

Edited to add:
I just checked, and one of the side effects of Neurontin is "changes in mood," for which it says I should contact my doctor immediately. I emailed the fabulous Dr. Rinn to see what she says. My gut instinct says that this is it, but my gut instinct is not always correct. Frankly, I'd rather go back to sleeplessness than to feel this lousy, so my fingers are crossed that this IS the problem.

taking a break

Here is the letter I sent to Komen today.

---------
I am sorry that I have fallen off the map in the past week or so, with so many deadlines. I love the work with Komen, and I know how important it is.

I am coming to the realization (slowly and uncomfortably) that I need to take a break from dealing with breast cancer issues. Despite my desire to be active, hands-on with Komen, I am finding that it is taking an emotional toll. I am still struggling with the effects of my treatment and the handful of pills that I continue to take, and I need to schedule another surgery, and my mind is bogged down with thoughts of cancer. Unfortunately, though my work at Komen is positive, I think that it's adding to my inability to move on to a post-cancer space right now.

So, with regret, and with many apologies (and no small amount of embarrassment), I need to bow out for a while. Perhaps before this year's race, and certainly next year, I will be back, but in a better head space. I am spending some time trying to figure out my boundaries with cancer issues, and finding a better balance in my life. Next year Tessa will be in kindergarten and I won't have to juggle the times so much, and that will help, too.

My apologies for the inconvenience that I know this causes you.
-------------

I feel weird about it, and have all kinds of other emotions as well, but I think it's what I need to do.

I wish this were not the case.

Slow learner

I was just thinking....in regard to cancer, I'm a slow learner.

What i mean by that is that I feel like I'm still in major treatment. I haven't moved on. I look at my posts here, and most of them reference cancer or treatment in some way. Two and a half years later, and I'm still in Cancerland.

In some ways, this makes me chastise myself. I have enough stage IV friends to know how ridiculous it is for me to obsess on this. My stage IV friends are out living their lives, parenting their children, working at their jobs, participating in their communities, etc. And here I am, "only" early stage, and not moving on.

Part of this is because of the aggressive level of treatment I've insisted upon. I still see my onc every three months; it's only a couple of months since I stopped going to the chemo ward regularly to get Herceptin. My recon is (by my own standards) a mess, and I'm still not done with surgeries. I take major handfuls of pills throughout the day, and I feel their side effects.

I also know early stage breast cancer women who have moved on, who aren't immersing themselves in these thoughts, who have mostly put cancer behind them. I envy that. Will I ever get to that stage?

I'm trying to learn.

For me, part of going to church is about learning this process. At WSUU, I'm hoping to find ways in which to encourage peace within my self. I'm doing lots of reading on issues of spirituality to supplement that learning. I'm trying to find my way out of the fog.

But I think I'm a slow learner in this regard.

Drug update

On Monday, I took my first Actonel (bisphosphonate - bone builder). I am required to take it once a week, and when I take it, I need to abstain from food and drink (except water to wash it down) for a minimum of a half hour, and I need to remain upright. This is generally not a problem, as I don't wake up hungry (I'd happily skip breakfast except I know I shouldn't) although waiting for coffee makes me rather sad! The drug often causes nausea and flu-like symptoms, especially after the first couple of doses, and that may be why I felt lousy last night. I felt achy and tired beyond belief, but woke up feeling more normal. I'm relieved that this is all I'm experiencing from this med, as the list of side effects is long and scary.

I also went for my annual exam with my G.P. yesterday. We reviewed my cholesterol levels (210) and she explained that the overall number is misleading because my LDL is within acceptable levels and my HDL is above the minimum, so I'm actually doing quite well in that regard. Unfortunately (because I find it unpleasant) even though my cervix has been removed I still need annual pap smears - whatever! - but apparently everything looked normal.

I also discussed all the meds I'm taking, including Lexapro. I've been at the lowest dose (10mg), and we agreed to up it to the next highest dose (20mg). I am certainly still not myself, and if I can get chemical help with that, I'll take it.

Depression is very interesting. It's hard to tell what is "life" (when life involves cancer treatment, bills, and the rest, it's understandable that not everything would be 100% rosy) and what is depression. It's hard to tell how I feel; it's hard to tell if things are in order. I do know that I would generally classify myself as an eternal optimist, as a very happy person, as someone who seeks and finds joy....and I know that it seems a lot harder these days. I find myself having negative thoughts and then the "sane" part of my brain says "whoa! back up, and stop being so negative!" but these thoughts surprise me. I'm used to expecting the best of the world, and when I find my mind moaning and complaining and (worst of all) resigned to the fact that things just suck and there's nothing I can do about it....well, then I know I need help. We'll see if Lexapro has some answers for me. I don't want to be Debbie Downer.

I do wonder if the reason I'm so tired is depression, or something else. I will say that the sleeping aids (Neurontin) seem to be helping, and so maybe I can catch up.

Girl party

Well, Tessa's week of birthday is coming to an end...at last. Mama's tired!

Today's dog and cat themed party was a success, and we think that Tessa and her girlfriends had a good time. We kept it small - just Tessa and five guests - and did lots of crafts.

More drugs

Well, today I visited with the onc (love her!) and picked up four new prescriptions. For a gal who does not enjoy taking drugs, this is a bit disheartening.

To my current list of:
aromatase inhibitor
thyroid hormone replacement
anti-depressant

I'm adding:
Bisphosphenate (bone density builder)
Nerve pain drug (to help with hot flashes - another usage)
Sleep aid (because I wake up more than I can count each night and I'm exhausted as a result)
Antibiotic (for my sinus infection)

Plus, I need more vitamin D, in addition to all of the calcium I'm taking

With each drug, comes side effects. These can range from the barely noticeable to the miserable to the lethal. No trick guessing what I'm hoping for in that regard! Suffice it to say that I've held off for a long time on adding new drugs to my regimen, but it's time.

Two and a half years out, and this is what I'm doing. Wow. "Over" isn't in my vocabulary.

And I got a referral to another plastic surgeon to look at corrections. I'm not sure when I'll follow up, but eventually I will. I do not want to look like this forever.

Additional notes:
My CEA, CA 125 and CA 27.29 (all cancer markers) came back with all of the correct results: no evidence of disease or progression today. Excellent news.

Dr. Rinn suggests that I avoid further scans, as research shows that at this point they're not of much value to me. (Girls, get your mammograms. Don't forget that my boobs don't have real breast tissue, so mammograms aren't for me....but they ARE for you!) I'm relieved. The scans make me totally freak out, and studies show that, at my stage of treatment, they don't even prolong life, so forget about it. Needless to say, if I present with symptoms, I'll get scans, but I can avoid routine scans now.

(This is not quackery or hiding my head in the sand. The evidence is well documented in large studies presented in adjudicated medical journals. I promise.)

Additionally, I'm learning that bisphosphonates are often used to prevent and treat bone mets, and that some clinical trials are showing them to be excellent at preventing or halting the progression of bone mets. I'm doing the bone strengtheners because of issues with osteoporosis, but I'm delighted that additionally they may fend off the beast.

Follow up from last night's post

Here is the post I put on YSC today. I'm struggling with these questions. Anyone have answers for me?
------------
So there I am, going along my merry way, 2.5 years NED, and these stupid thoughts are still driving me.

This year, my daughter turned 5 (yesterday). I threw her three parties (two down, one to go). First, a family party with family and family friends (a pool party); then, a PEPS party (a group we belong to with 7 families; we met when our kids were newborns and are very close); then, a "girlfriends" party with five of her best friends (that one will have traditional birthday games, a pinata, etc.). It's a bit much - heck, as a kid I didn't count on ONE birthday party, and my kid thinks that three is perfectly normal.

So as I was cleaning up last night after party number two, I was feeling exhausted and wondering why the hell we went so overboard.

The answer struck me with complete clarity: if I won't get to see her 16th birthday party, at least I can throw her 16 parties. If I'm going to die, then I better give her every bit of love and adoration and "special" time possible before I go.

What the hell? I thought I was just having a good time with my child, and suddenly it occurs to me that I'm living my life as if I don't have much time left. When did that start? Am I still leading my life as a cancer victim, and not a survivor?

I really thought I was further along than this. It's so frustrating to find myself really stuck in these thoughts when I thought I was more at peace. Anyone else? How do I move on? What's your advice? Or is anyone struggling like this with me?

I'm two and a half years out. Why is this taking so long? (stamps foot)

At the end of the day

At the end of each day, my sinus headaches rage and I feel overwhelmed. This has gone on for a week - may be time for a trip to the doc. I hate visiting doctors; I feel that my time in waiting rooms is such a waste, and I've already wasted so much time.

Tonight I'm particularly tired because it was Tessa's party. I hung streamers, blew up balloons, made two cakes (chocolate bundt cake with chocolate glaze; and chocolate layer cake with raspberry vanilla frosting), cleaned, tidied, and tried to give Tessa a great day. Now her friends (and mine!) are gone, and the house is coming back to itself, and the toys are put away.

Tonight, it occurs to me that I am overdoing it because a) that's what I do but also b) because if I die, I want Tessa to remember how much her mama was willing to do for her. I want her to remember her time with me as magical.

I am not planning my death, but it does seem that I feel extra pressure to do things "just in case." This year we're throwing her three birthday parties, and that's excessive. Unless I think that I'll miss most of the parties in her life. And yet, I do feel healthy, and mostly optimistic about the future, so this doesn't make any sense. Time for another trip to the therapist.

But first, a Motrin, and then bed.

Happy birthday, sweet girl

As I write this, my five year old is playing "pony set up" with Anna, happy as a clam. I'm hearing their creative imaginings as they contrive elaborate stories about good ponies and mean ponies and all that they do, and Tessa is in heaven about it all.

Five years ago, at this time, I was lying in a hospital bed at Swedish, holding Ryan's hand, talking to Susan & Libby, and looking at my huge belly and wondering how a baby would ever emerge from my body. (Even having experienced giving birth, I still find it somewhat confusing that it's even possible...but that's another post.) I was filled with excitement and anticipation, and couldn't even imagine what it would be like to hold my child in my arms, but I knew that it was what I wanted more than I'd ever wanted anything in my life.

At 4:08pm on this day five years ago, when Tessa took her first breath, Ryan softly said, "It's Tessa!" and I learned that I had a daughter. I can still barely believe my good fortune of that moment: I've said it before, and I'll say it again...I would have adored a son, but I had always wanted a daughter. Tessa truly is the child I spent my lifetime dreaming about. She is all I have ever wished for, and more. In my dreams, I never understood just how much I could love a child, but Tessa has taught me.

In these first five years together, as a family, we have experienced so much. There have been more joys than I can count, along with (more than?) our share of sorrow. Throughout it all, Tessa has been the glue that held us together.

Ryan is the father I hoped he would be. He is funny, strong, and encouraging of his daughter. Tessa, needless to say, adores him. When I watch my husband and child play together, I know that I gave Tessa the best gift of all by choosing such an amazing father for her, and my heart is filled with the two of them.

Today, as I bake cakes, hang streamers, and prepare for the PEPS gang to come over, I do it with gladness. Sure, I'm trying to give Tessa a fabulous birthday, but it's also my own celebration. Five years of being a family; five years of learning how deeply we can love one another; five years of talking about the beauty of dewdrops and how much fun it is to go on the swings and petting every dog that walks by us. Five years of childhood magic, even in the middle of temper tantrums and messes and billions of loads of laundry. It is more worth it than I ever imagined.

Happy birthday, Tessa. I love you, sweetheart. Thank you for being you!

Just a cold, but still...

Two years ago at this time I was fighting radiation burns. I was bald from chemo. I was 40 pounds overweight from steroids etc. with chemo. I think it would be fair to say that I was miserable, and that I am so, so glad that I am no longer in that horrible position.

Today, I still have a cold, and it may be turning into a sinus infection. It feels ridiculous to make a big deal out of a cold, when I have endured so much worse, but really, it's not fun to have a cold. It's a molehill, not a mountain, but it's my molehill, and it's a pain.

I still judge just about everything in my life by the cancer yardstick, and this is no exception. A cold is pretty manageable compared to cancer, and it's nothing I can't live with (after all, it doesn't threaten to kill me). I suspect that for the rest of my life, everything will be compared with cancer, for better or for worse, and this fact saddens me (I'm certainly not over it). I wish I could just moan about my cold and accept it for what it is, without the comparison. Why this is difficult for me, I am not certain.

Perhaps the cold is even more frustrating because I fought cancer. Do I have to fight a freakin' cold, too? No fair! I almost laugh that I'm protesting the fairness of a cold, because I don't recall asking "why me?" about cancer (and I even wrote a post about that early on, about "why me" isn't something I think about). I guess I'm a late bloomer in this regard, because my cold is really irritating me. I've had it for a week, it's not getting better, and I'm tired when I have things I ought to be doing. (The Komen work has a huge chunk done but SO much more to do.)

And I want to be a playful mom for Tessa's birthday week. And there are dozens of cupcakes to make....

One day at a time....one day at a time.... It's just a cold. I can deal with this. I've dealt with worse.

Wah.

(But I have been having good times, too, despite my current whininess. Heather watched Tessa today so I could work on Komen, and then we visited and had dinner together. Lovely times. And yesterday's pool party was fabulous. But my sinus headache keeps coming back. Wah.)

Pictures!

Here are some of the latest. With all these birthday parties, there are sure to be more soon.

Five years

This week, Tessa turns five.

I find this fact somewhat bewildering. How on earth is it possible that she's so big? When she was an infant, I was so overwhelmed by the largeness of her tinyness; when she was a toddler I thought maybe she'd stay that way forever. But time marches on, and I find myself the mother of a precocious pre-kindergartener. I wouldn't change it, but I'm bewildered anyway.

This is a week of birthday: today is the family party at the pool; this Wednesday we'll have PEPS at our house to celebrate; and on Sunday she's having a few very close girlfriends over for her "girl party" (she really IS my daughter!). Yesterday she and I made chocolate cakes together, and today we frosted them with rasperry icing (home made; the raspberry tastes good but best of all it makes the frosting pink) and Tessa was in charge of putting on the sprinkles.

I will try to love every celebration, and not get caught up in my "to-do" lists for each party. I will remember that it's about the joy of her birth, about the celebration of her life, about the relationships she shares with others. I will try to remember that it's okay if the food's not perfect, if somebody gets sick and can't come, if our parties aren't as extravagent as others'. I will try to remember to laugh, and to share Tessa's pleasure at the small things: a balloon that's just the right color; putting up streamers.

Happy birthday, Tessa. I love you!

What do you do when you don't feel like cooking?

Okay, readers (I know you're out there - Sitemeter tells me that I get at least 50 readers a day, and that you're all over the world)....time to come out of hiding.

What do you cook when you don't feel like cooking? What are your fallback meals for yourself and your family?

Today I ordered take-out....expensive and unhealthy, but there was no way I was going to cook. What do you do on those nights when it's too much?

Apparently, I need more than little birds

I'm still grouchy.

I don't feel well. My throat is scratchy. I'm tired. My head hurts. WAHHHH.

These are not "real" problems in that it's not life threatening, but they're problems none-the-less. I've decided to scrap the good attitude and mope for a little while instead. Tessa is curled up watching Clifford, happy. I ordered take-out for dinner. It's going to take more than some cute birds in my yard to break me out of my funk.

Hopefully, a good night's sleep and a return to health in the morning will do the trick. Until then, I'm whining.

Okay, 30 seconds of Zen

After my grouchy post, I came upstairs and looked out the window.

There, on the birdfeeder that Tessa insisted that we buy last year (she didn't have to push too hard), were a handful of sweet little birds. I looked them up in our Seattle Bird Guide, and they are juncos. Then, we got to see a larger Northern Flicker (woodpecker) with brilliant red under its wings and tail. I stood at the back door for a little bit and watched this small piece of nature flitting through my back yard, and for a moment the girls were playing well and kind to one another, and I had to remind myself to stop being so grouchy.

Reminder to self: I live in perhaps the most beautiful part of the world. The Olympics were out in full color today: stunning. There are gorgeous wild birds flittering through my back yard. My house is warm, my health problem is a scratchy throat and not a lump (shudder), my dog follows me around because he loves me, my husband likes his job and called while at work to check on me to send his love....and I have an amazing child. Even when she's driving me crazy.

Okay today is a different day

Thank goodness I had a little zen in my day yesterday, because today it appears that I won't be getting any!

Tessa has two friends over to play right now, and that dear, lovely, intelligent, compassionate child of mine is being a pain in the butt. She's being jealous, refusing to share her things, telling scary stories about a mean guy hiding in her closet (which she thinks is hysterically funny) until one of her friends cried in terror (and then Tessa initially refused to tone things down, despite her friend's terror....I had to open doors, move clothes around, stomp and make some noise, to prove that nobody was there)....etc. She also had a rather impressive temper tantrum (worse in a 5 year old than a 2 year old because 5 year olds are louder and can kick harder). Where, oh where did yesterday's sweet, inquisitive child disappear to? I know she'll come back but today I really miss her.

To top it off, my tickly throat is turning into a sore throat. I have just enough cognition to know that I may be responding more to my sore throat than my child; my patience feels short today.

And I'm stressed because I'm behind deadline for a Komen project that I REALLY believe in. And did I mention that Ryan has late work meetings? Not a big deal at all, just the timing stinks. C'est la vie.

Somehow, it will all work out. But in the meantime, I'm a stressed out mommy. Calgon, take me away.

Down time

The short version? Tessa's got a cold.

Today we're having some enforced down time, despite the busy day I had planned. Instead of touring Alki Elementary, working on Komen's Race for the Cure website, taking Tessa to preschool, and attending a Race meeting, Tessa and I have stayed home and had a very quiet day.

Despite my anxiety about not getting these things done (Komen is on a short deadline and I have a LOT of work to do, which I really must get done, so that in particular is stressful to me), it has been a nice day. I've done some cleaning projects around the house, hung some pictures on the "family wall" in the family room (it's all hodge-podge with different frames and picture sizes, but what the heck...the rest of that room is hodge-podge too and it's nice to have family pics up), and played with Tessa.

Tessa and I have sat and played together more in the past day than in the past week. We've played horses with a set that my mom gave her a couple of years ago; we read for well over an hour from a book about children from around the world (and looked at the dolls of the world set that she received for Christmas to see their clothing and compare), we made an 84 piece puzzle of a map of the United States (which she needed assistance with, but was a great opportunity to talk about who we know that lives in different states, what crops were grown where, etc.), we watched birds on the birdfeeder in the back yard (we both really like the bluejays), we've cleaned together (Tessa's job is to help me with dusting - she's really proud of herself for helping with chores and I will not squelch that kind of enthusiasm, knowing full well that one day she'll shriek at me if I ask her to help)....lots and lots of quiet on one time.

Man, I love my daughter.

One of my favorite songs is "Lullaby" by the Dixie Chicks, and today reminded me of lines from that song:

"I'll slip in bed while you're asleep,
And hold you close to feel your breath on me.
Tomorrow there'll be so much to do,
So tonight I'll drift inside a dream with you."

Today, the drifting happened while we were awake, and that was such a lovely pleasure. No rush, no hustle, no bustle....just spending time together, with nothing to accomplish, and nowhere to go.

The next lines of the song say,
"How long do you want to be loved?
Is forever enough? Is forever enough?"

No, forever is not enough, but it is certainly my promise to Tessa.

Parenting is difficult; sometimes, it feels like an impossibly large burden, and I feel my frustration rising as I just long for -deeply yearn for- 20 minutes of uninterrupted thoughts. Not today. Today, I'm reminded that I really, truly love being with my daughter. I love hearing what she thinks, and I love learning the workings of her mind. I think she's funny, and fun, and interesting, and though I do NOT want to speed up the clock (no! slow down!), I can not wait to know her when she is a woman. I can not wait to see the person that she is becoming, and to watch our relationship grow. One day, if I am lucky, I will get to see her become a mother, and I know deep in my soul that she will be wonderful. One day, if I am lucky, I will get to see Tessa change the world in ways big or small. I have no doubt about it. This is not pressure on her to do something grand like become president or cure poverty...but she is such a lovely person, filled with love and compassion, that the world is a better place because she is in it, and she will improve the world through her existance. All things are possible in her.

The ramblings of a besotted mother? Absolutely. I've said it before, and I'll say it again: every child should be loved and adored as much as I love Tessa. Of course I'm biased. I don't care - I think she's part magic, and that magic is so filled with possibility.

All of this because of cancelled plans, because of enforced slowness. I feel sorry for Tessa's runny nose and tickly throat, but selfishly, I'm glad she got a cold. I hope it goes away before it makes her feel too bad, but I am grateful for the reminders the cold brought.

When tomorrow or the next day is doubly busy because of falling behind with everything today, I truly hope that I can remember this. I hope I can still find small moments to just play, to question, to listen to Tessa. Talk of "put your shoes on" and "hurry up, we're late" and "let's go to the grocery store" and even "we're going to a playdate" is all well and fine and necessary, but just sitting and reading until we're tired of reading (and not until the clock tells us that it's time to stop) is a rare treat. I hope I remember to do that more often....without the poor kid getting a cold.

And...not to end on a sour note...but I have to say it anyway.

As I dream about the woman that Tessa will become, I curse damn cancer for threatening to prevent me from seeing that transformation. I have no promises. The clouds appear far off and in the distance, but I fear the storm that they might bring. I'm praying for sunshine and sprinkles, but no hurricanes. I want to be here for myself and my family. I want to be here to stand at Ryan's side and watch our Tessa grow into herself. I want that more than anything I've ever wanted before.

A Chance to See the Dalai Lama

I have recently learned that the Dalai Lama is coming to Seattle, and I'm thrilled at the prospect of seeing him speak.

Check it out:
http://www.seedsofcompassion.net/event/

I personally believe that the Dalai Lama is one of the most compassionate, intelligent people on the planet, and every time I hear him speak (never in person, unfortunately) or read his writing I walk away feeling more committed to being a positive person in the world. I admire his teachings greatly, and I would be more excited than I can express if I got to see him.

This particular program is interesting to me because it is all about teaching children compassion, and raising our children compassionately. As I struggle to be a compassionate person, I know that I struggle to model to Tessa, and I hope that I can learn more.

Tickets aren't on sale or available yet, but I hope to be able to get my hands on some.

Churches that advertise

The UU organization is advertising in Time Magazine. I'm not sure how I feel about this; on the one hand, evangelism generally makes me feel uncomfortable; on the other, I'm grateful to have stumbled onto the UU faith but it was almost entirely by accident and I wish I'd heard of it sooner and these ads might help facilitate that for others.

Anyway, here's a link to the ad. It is next to an interesting article about Einstein's faith.
http://www.time.com/time/magazine/article/0,9171,1607298,00.html

More kindergarten talk

Well, prepare to hear lots of kindergarten talk on this blog in the next couple of months as I make decisions about where to send Tessa. We're just at the beginning and it's a bit overwhelming.

First, I realize that choosing a kindergarten is not the most critical decision in a child's life. I recognize that Tessa is well primed to succeed in kindergarten. I believe that she's the "ideal" student, in that she's able to sit and listen, she wants to please her teachers/authority figures, she doesn't appear to have any learning disabilities, she's social, and she has a love of learning and of books. Because she has educated parents who will be active in the school she's in, and because we care about reading in the home, and because we model reading and writing to her (mom's in a book club and writes in a journal; dad's constantly taking trips to the library to pick up books), and because we are well set up to support her homework, etc., it is my suspicion that she will succeed in just about any school. In this regard, she is like most of the children that we know: middle class children who don't worry about a roof over their heads, food in their bellies, and parents who love them. These things alone are a great head start in education.

Still, I feel a lot of pressure to choose well for her. Success can be judged in lots of ways, and I need to decide where my own values lie in order to decide what a successful kindergarten placement will look like.

Now, this seems like it should be easy. I value safety, academics, community, diversity, love of learning, parent involvement, access to materials (books, technology, etc.), caring faculty, development of critical thinking more than rote memorization, development of social-emotional as well as intellectual strengths, art programs, music programs, foreign language, PE programs, encouragement of girls into math and science, excellent reading and writing programs, after school programs like running club or basketball or chess, a nice building, low student to teacher ratios, good test scores, pride in the school environment....

Can you see where I run into problems? That is a long list, and not one local public school meets everything in that list. Some schools emphasize community more than academics; some schools have art but not foreign language; some schools have great writing programs but lesser science programs. It's not a perfect world, so I can't have it all (no news there), so I have to decide which of these things is most important to me, and then make the match.

We know we intend to stay in West Seattle. We know that we intend to pursue public, not private, school options. I'm not going into it here, but we believe that we have excellent reasons for our family to reach these conclusions, and we're happy to stay the course on those two issues.

The first major decision I have to make is about academic rigor versus diversity (and how the encouragement of, or lack of, diversity impacts community). One local school (Lafayette) has the Spectrum program for gifted and talented children, and it's possible that Tessa could test into this program. The program is at a school noted for its high test scores, traditional learning styles, and lack of diversity as compared to other schools in the area. Another local school (Pathfinder, the alternative school) has an incredible approach toward community and diversity, and really works with kids' creativity, but I fear that they do not have the academic rigor that would help Tessa live up to her potential.

Two schools, Alki and Schmitz Park, appear to be more middle of the road and may meet all of our needs, but they appear to be very popular and we may not get in to either of them.

Our local reference school is Gatewood, and I just don't know enough about them yet. Academically, though, they do not appear to have great strength, or maybe I'm just judging test scores (and we all know how they are filled with falacies).

I have not made any decisions. I toured Pathfinder today, and I have tours set up for other schools. But in order to make my decisions, first I have to struggle through this list of values to determine what my ranked order is. This is tough work for Ryan and I, as we want only the best for our beautiful (her heart, mind, soul as much as her outsides) daughter.

Whatever we do, it will be okay. Nothing is irrevocable. Still, it would be nice to choose the right school from the get-go, and just enjoy the ride.

What Not to Say to a Cancer Survivor

This is thanks to The Cancer Crusade, an organization that sends me weekly thoughts on cancer survivorship. They are also the creators of the brilliant survivor movie that I've posted here before:

http://www.thecancercrusade.com/Cancer_Survivors/cancer_survivors.asp

I'm posting this because it rings incredibly true with me. Thank you for reading it and understanding.
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Whether you are a newly diagnosed survivor or someone who loves him or her, cancer rocks your world. We survivors have our own issues to face, but those of you who care for us can help by learning what not to say. We know you mean well, but please avoid the following platitudes:

"God won't give you more than you can handle." This implies that God gave me cancer. I don't buy it. The God I know is about goodness and light and love and healing. He doesn't throw down lightning bolts of cancer (or other catastrophes for that matter); that kind of thinking went out with ancient mythology. My cancer was caused by some cellular misfire, some rotten biological/chemical event, a chink in my body's immune system armor. Instead of telling me that God doesn't give us more than we can handle, remind me that God helps us handle what we are given.

"I could get hit by a bus tomorrow. You'll probably outlive me." Keep that up, and I can guarantee it. Look, if you're walking blindfolded down the middle of a major interstate highway during rush hour when you say this (because that's how I feel right now), it might make sense and I might agree with you. Otherwise, it's a meaningless remark that does nothing to make me feel better. In fact, now I'm worried about you. Thanks a lot.

"You have to have a positive attitude to beat this, so come on! Be positive!" You've just added to the terror I'm already experiencing. You have implied (whether you meant to or not) that I'm hurting my chances of getting well because I'm very sad and very scared right now. If you really want to help me, acknowledge and validate my feelings. Feelings are not facts, so you can't argue with them; please don't try. Instead, help me express what's in my heart and on my mind. You don't need to respond to everything I say. Just listen without trying to "fix" things. I will find my way to a more "positive attitude" as I gain understanding of my disease and treatment plan and as I begin to regain control of my life. Be patient with me. I'll get there in my own time.

"Don't cry. It will all be okay." These words are almost always said because the person who is witnessing the crying is uncomfortable. If you're uncomfortable seeing me cry, then please don't come around for a while. I need to cry sometimes, and I don't need anyone telling me not to. Crying is healthy. It helps me get the bad stuff out, and that helps make room for the really good stuff like wholeness and healing.And you don't know if it will "all be okay" anymore than I do, so don't say that. In fact, don't say anything just to be saying something. If you can just sit with me and be with me and acknowledge through your silent companionship that we are mere mortals but we are in this together, that will be more comforting to me than anything you could say.

Kindergarten

I can't believe I'm having to seriously think about this. How is my little girl growing up so fast?

This week, I'm booking school tours at our top four school choices: Alki, Schmitz Park, Gatewood, and Pathfinder. I hope to learn about their educational philosophies, and try to find the school that is the best match for Tessa and our family. I take this stuff seriously -hey, I used to be a public school teacher! - and I really want to make the right decisions for Tessa. We will weigh academics, extra-curricular activities, community, philosophy, and all the rest. Tessa is a bright girl who is already showing signs of early reading, so I want to make sure that she's challenged. So much to think about!

I do not recommend this diet plan

I'm not talking about Weight Watchers - that's a great plan.

I'm talking about the plan I stumbled upon yesterday. It involved eating a sandwich that might have been tainted with something (?) and then throwing up half the night. YUCK! Thankfully, I feel somewhat human again today, but that was a real drag.

The only good news? I lost two pounds yesterday "without trying." This puts me at four pounds over my goal, which is closer than I've been in some time (maybe a year....?!). I suspect that by Valentine's Day all of my clothes will, once again, fit me the way I want them to. Wahoo!

Last night's experience made me very grateful for the fabulous anti-emetics that were available to me during chemo. I absolutely loathe throwing up - I mean, nobody likes it, but I'm practically phobic about it - and last night's experience made me even more grateful that I never threw up during chemo.

Catching up

After the holiday chaos, there is so much to do.....clean out the attic, clear our closets of clothes no longer needed/desired, filing, bill paying (blech), sorting out insurance issues, planning Tessa's birthday (what on earth to get a child who has everything?!), walking the dog, exercising, planning healthy meals, refilling prescriptions, catching up on email, thank you cards...the list is endless and this is only the beginning.

Okay, deep breath. (Oh, yeah, add meditation to that list.)

I'm trying to wade through my to-do list but it's growing in leaps and bounds. And trying to do it all while mothering, and not lose my mind in the process, is particularly challenging. If anyone has good advice on this, let me know! I keep thinking "if I could just get caught up" but that is falsely reassuring....

Insight, anyone?

Happy New Year!

Well, 2008 has arrived. Happy New Year!

I look forward to a (hopefully) wonderful year. This is the year that I hope to run a half marathon and a full marathon, that I hope to do some local travel and camping with family, the year that Tessa starts kindergarten.

I hope that I can continue on my spiritual journey at WSUU and in my own readings. Thanks to Adrienne, I've discovered Pema Chodron's writing, and I feel that I'm newly a student once again, learning different ways to think about the world, my place in it, and the subject of compassion and kindness. I'm delighted to be on some kind of path again in this regard, even though I know it will be full of twists and turns.

Two years into my Weight Watchers journey, I do not have any grand goals about my weight - I'm already there! I'd like to drop a few pesky pounds (I'm a few up from where I'd like to be, but well within healthy ranges), but I do not, thankfully, have to make any major changes in that regard, just tweak what I'm already doing.

It will be a year of great change. Tessa's entrance to kindergarten will substantially alter my life as a stay at home mom, and decisions will have to be made about how much I work (or not). No decisions have been made; I have ideas, but I'm uncertain. That's okay, as I don't have to figure it out all at once, and the only thing permanent is impermanence. Even if I make the "wrong" decision in that regard, I can change.

So this new year, I'm looking forward to time with friends and family. I'm going to try to use my down-time more effectively, pursuing those things that give me joy rather than just filling time. I'm going to try to continue to care for my body, and to nurture my soul and mind. I'm going to try to be a great wife and the best mother Tessa could ask for. I'm going to take time out in nature to enjoy the snowfall, the rainbows, the waterfall, the scent of pine needles, pebbles on the beach. I'm going to read great books (and some mediocre ones). I'm going to volunteer in my community, and continue to further the cause to find a cure for breast cancer.

I haven't really said anything new here, and that's pretty satisfying to me. No major changes, just travel on life's road, attempting to accept what comes my way and to choose the right path(s).

Happy New Year!

(PS That shot of the Olympic Mountains over the Sound was taken today from the beach area in front of Mee Kwa Mooks Park in West Seattle. No wonder I love it here - a walk with Shep turned out to be a beautiful foray into nature, the sound of the waves to soothe me.)

My lesson at church today

I continue to love attending WSUU. Not every word inspires me (would that even be possible?), but it offers me a lot of things. Sometimes, I have to think about the sermon for a week before it really hits home; sometimes, I hear something that connects with me immediately.

Today, it was an immediate connection. The sermon was about letting go and forgiveness - appropriate topics for year's end. There were several stories and readings, and one line from a meditation about forgiveness really stuck out to me:

"Forgive us the folly for trying to improve a friend."

In my marriage, in particular, I believe I'm guilty of this. Under the assumption of loving, caring, and compassion, I try to push my ideas on Ryan. Sometimes he is not receptive to these ideas, and I've been prone to thinking, "What isn't there to get? This is so obvious!" and I have felt frustrated and expressed my frustration with him. My mom was discussing this idea (not related to Ryan, but to life in general), and said "We are all at different stages of our life journey; we all have different levels of understanding. You can't expect everyone else to be at the same place in the journey that you are at the same time all the time," and I think that this line from the meditation speaks to that. I choose Ryan because I love him and he is a worthy partner, and I choose my friends for the same reasons. How foolish it is of me to push my ideas on others just because I'm at a new understanding, when I don't want others' ideas pushed on me. "Improving a friend" might mean "You should be more like me," and frankly, there's already enough of me to go around. I don't want a world full of me - I want a world full of the diverse people that I love.

The journey, to me, is like traveling the spokes of the wheel. We might be equally advanced, but in different areas (spokes). How irritating it is to be reminded that we are behind in one area, only because we're exploring another area.

Oops.

This doesn't mean that we can't all learn from another and offer one another wisdom; there is room for that, too. But when it switches from sharing my own lessons to trying to improve another person, I'm guilty and determined to learn and grow from this new understanding.

It was a great lightbulb moment for me.

This is exactly why I choose to attend services, and why I'm embracing being a UU. I am grateful for the opportunity to reflect on these ideas, and I'm grateful for being given the space to learn and grow. No judgement, no finger pointing, just room to grow. Lovely.

Snowshoeing!

Packing list

- Bag of boots (big, medium, and small)
- Bag of extra clothes in case we get cold/wet (big, medium, and small)
- Bag of snowshoes (big, medium, and small)
- Dog boots, leash, collar, and blanket/towel
- Backpacks stocked with tissues, lip balm, extra gloves, snacks and water (big, medium, and small)
- Bag of snow clothes (coats and snow-pants, hats, scarves, fleece) (big, medium, and small)
- Sleds and blankets

Are we going on an arctic expedition? No, we are going to Snoqualmie Pass for a couple hours tomorrow morning to play in the snow and do a little snowshoeing. From the looks of our car, you'd think that we could do the North Pole!

Thank you cards

For a couple of years (since diagnosis?) I have been incredibly remiss in sending out thank you cards.

I used to pride myself on sending them with regularity and punctuality. I have been the fortunate recipient of much generousity and thoughtfulness in my life, and it seemed a small thing to me to write a small note to acknowledge others' gifts to me. Of course it's good manners to send such notes, but my heart was really in writing them, too, because it was a way for me to feel gratitude and share my heart with the givers. Really, a win-win all around.

Then cancer came, and I just became utterly overwhelmed by so many things. This is my reason, but not an excuse. Many other cancer patients manage to keep up with their thank yous, but I did not. I can't exactly explain it, but I just didn't have anything to give. I was just tired by life, and sometimes the smallest of tasks seemed insurmountable. Perhaps this was an early sign of my depression, as thank you cards were not the only thing that slipped.

But I digress.

This Christmas, like every other year, I was the fortunate recipient of gifts of love and thoughtfulness. I have vowed to acknowledge them in writing. I know how fortunate I am to have such faithful friends and family members in my life, and I WANT to acknowledge them.

I can't go back to write all of the thank yous that I have missed over the past couple of years - the task feels impossible and doomed to failure, despite my good intentions. But I can start fresh, and vow not to miss another opportunity to thank those people in my life who share their kindnesses with me.

Check your mail soon. I appreciate you, and I send my love.

Merry Christmas!

A quick note in the middle of this Christmas Day.

We are having a wonderful family Christmas together, and many Christmas wishes were granted (bike stuff for Ryan, cashmere for me, a swingset for Tessa) and we've been enjoying a lazy morning. Of course, there's the excitement of the tipped over Christmas tree (hey, it looks like the tree's at an angle...we should fix that....crash!) but that just adds to the fun. (Ryan's vacuuming up needles now.)

Later today, my parents, grandma, and brother plus family will come here to have Christmas dinner with us.

The best part of the day so far is watching Tessa unwrap her gifts, while we sip coffee and eat twice baked almond croissants from Bakery Nouveau. Today isn't a day to count calories, and I'm not. (I just hope I can fit into my workout clothes after today.) Christmas music playing, a roast waiting to go into the oven, the smell of pine needles and coffee wafting through the house, and a plate of cookies just waiting for us. The cousins' presents are under the tree, and Tessa can't wait to play on the swingset with Caleb and Joshua. Four generations will sit around our table, and that has a magic of its own, too.

I want to give my daughter a fantasy childhood, filled with laughter, traditions, and fun times together. Today, it feels like we're doing a good job of that, and I am filled with contentment.

Love, joy and peace to you all. Merry Christmas!

Christmas Crab Bisque

A friend asked me to send her the recipe, and since I typed it up, I thought I'd share. It's a huge hit around here, and we serve it as our opening course for Christmas dinner. I can't wait!

Crab bisque is a huge hit around here. I couldn't find a recipe I liked so I took four recipes I found online and combined them. Here's what I do:

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Crab Bisque - Serves 10-12

2 tablespoons butter
1/2 large onion, finely chopped
4 celery ribs,chopped
3/4 cup flour
1 cup dry white wine
4 cups chicken broth
4 cups half and half
2 pounds crab meat
handful fresh parsley
1 tablespoon fresh thyme
salt and pepper to taste


Melt butter in a large soup pot on medium to medium high, add onion and celery, and cook until soft. Add flour and cook for a full minute. Slowly add wine, broth and half and half, stirring constantly to mix in flour and keep smooth, and simmer for a half hour.

If desired, you can complete this step in advance, and finish the dish just before the meal (which is what I do, so that I can enjoy the day instead of cooking all day).

Heat the broth/onion mixture through, and then add herbs, seasoning, and crab, and heat through and serve.

If desired, reserve some of the crab meat and use for garnish.
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I love dungeoness crab, but since it's about $25/pound I usually use part lump canned crab meat (Costco and Trader Joe's both sell it at reasonable prices, about $10/pound) and then do the rest with fresh dungeoness crab, garnishing each dish with a sprig of thyme and a piece of dungeoness leg meat. Many recipes call for less crab, but our family LOVES crab and so I make it "crab-heavy" as a special occassion dish.

Other recipes call for cutting up some potatoes and adding them, or using dry sherry instead of wine, or omitting the wine/sherry and using extra broth. Sometimes I add a clove or two of crushed garlic to the onion mixture, as well.

The recipe can be played with - the amounts of onion, celery, parsly, etc. are all pretty negotiable. Some of the recipes I found call for 2 tablespoons of onion, and some call for much much more. These are the quantities that have worked best for me.

Telling little kids about cancer

I keep meaning to put together a brief set of blog entries for newly diagnosed women; short summaries of some of the top questions or concerns or areas of interest. Well, today someone on the YSC boards asked a question about how to tell her small children about her diagnosis, and this is what I replied. In case anyone out there in internet-land is searching on information about telling children about cancer, I thought I'd share my experiences here.

(This is a repeat of information found in a variety of earlier blog entries, probably not relevant to my friends and family at this time.)

The book "Sammy's Mommy Has Cancer" was INCREDIBLY helpful to me; it doesn't discuss mastectomy directly but it talks about chemo, baldness, surgery, fatigue, etc. It's available on Amazon and in other bookstores. My daughter asked us to read it to her every day for months, because it helped her to understand.

I was very straightforward with our daughter, who was 2.5 at the time but highly verbal. We used the words "breast cancer" and explained that our bodies are made of cells that work together to make us strong, but the cells in Mama's breast had turned to bad cells that made me sick. We explained that the doctor would cut out the cancer and give me strong medicine to make me well, but that the medicine would make me tired and bald. We were very careful to explain that this was unusual, and not something that little kids could get. We made sure that she understood it was not like getting a cold or a fever or a sore throat, so she didn't need to worry about herself. (I know kids get cancer, though not breast cancer, but the idea was to help her to not worry if she got a sniffly nose that next they'd cut her breasts off.)

I never quite explained that they would be removing my breast along with the cancer...I meant to but never figured out how (eventually, both breasts, but initially, just one). My daughter walked in (barged in!) to the bathroom when I was just a few days post-op and I was coming out of the shower, and exclaimed "Mommy has only one nipple!" As calmly as I could, I said, "Yes, the doctors had to take off Mama's breast to make sure they got all of the cancer." Because I knew that I was going to get reconstruction, I said, "It's okay with me because I'm glad the cancer is gone. And one day, the doctors are going to build me a new breast!" That became my daughter's understanding: this was temporary, and I'd get new breasts. She seemed pretty okay with it.

I talked to the psycho-onc and read books about what to share with her, and what was recommended to me was to be as straight-forward as possible without overdoing it. (We've never talked about mortality issues, and won't unless something changes.) I also learned that children's number one fear is that they are not being told the whole truth or that they are being lied to, and so I was encouraged to be as open as possible. This worked for us, because it's how we do most things, not just big stuff like cancer. My daughter was not thrilled to have cancer in the family, but I don't think it terrified her, either.

Everything I read said to tell the child that it is NOT their fault. This seems obvious (of course it's not their fault!) but children make some strange leaps of logic, and many children have been known to say "If only I didn't bug Mom so much she wouldn't have gotten sick" or "If I was good she'd get better" etc. You want to nip that in the bud right away and state up front that it's nobody's fault.

I also told my daughter that she was the person who could help me to feel better. Her smiles make me happy; reading stories to her makes me happy; playing games with her makes me happy. When I was really sick it made me happy when she made things (cards, bead necklaces, simple things) for me. I tried to let her know that it was her job to just be a kid, and that just having her around made me happy. The idea was to give her some power in the situation to make HERSELF feel better, rather than just be a powerless bystander.

At age almost 5, my daughter knows about chemo, radiation, Herceptin, reconstruction, mastectomy, etc. This is part of her childhood, and that saddens me....but it's also the reality. Some kids deal with divorce, poverty, and other losses, and my daughter has had to deal with cancer. It's part of her normal, now.

Our way might not be right for everyone, but it's been great for us. I'm delighted to say that my daughter is pretty well adjusted - a happy, smiling kid who loves to play on the monkey bars, is learning to read, and begs for playdates fifty times a day. She's also capable of throwing an impressive tantrum, or whining when she doesn't get her way. In short, she's pretty normal, despite the abnormal features of her childhood.

I hope you get something out of this book that helps you. I'm pretty passionate about the subject, as all of my deepest fears about cancer are about its impact on my daughter. I hope I've given you something positive to give you hope that your kids will be okay, too.

Yikes

Well, interesting times.

Today Tessa is recovering, but not at all her normal self. The fever is gone, but she's still tired and low energy, eating much less than usual. She's on the mend, but she's not mended.

And then there's Shep. I stopped in at Marisa's party this afternoon, and when I got home, Shep looked normal when he came out to greet me. Twenty minutes later Ryan said, "What's wrong with Shep's eyes?" and when I looked, they were nearly swollen shut. As we debated what could be causing the problem, I practically watched his jaw swell up.

$156 later (well, it could definitely be worse) the vet (the one that's open all night closest to us is in Burien - of course this happens on a Sunday night!) has declared that Shep probably ate some thing and had an allergic reaction. Since he had strewn garbage from the office garbage can, we suspect it might have been a candy wrapper with chocolate residue. We'll never know what caused it, but an injection of Benedryl and steroids seems to have reversed some of the swelling. We'll watch him tonight and take him to our regular vet tomorrow if he isn't fully improved.

Really, there are other things I'd planned this weekend....yikes!

Change of plans

Well, this is how it goes some days.

Tessa woke up this morning with a fever (103.2), and so this weekend will be spent laying low. Ryan and I are taking turns with her and going out one at a time(I went to the C&P Arts and Crafts fair and got a fabulous gift for my mom's birthday - hurrah!). The bummer, though, is that tomorrow was to be her blessing, and now we can't go. Wahhh.

Seeing our girl laid low breaks my heart. She just sleeps and watches TV; she's very snuggly (which is nice) but she's got absolutely no energy. I hope this illness passes very, very quickly.

The Christmas Card Photo

Okay, so here it is. A darling picture of a family enjoy themselves....

or is it just a picture of my butt?! ACK!

I hope you get a good laugh out of it. It IS one of my favorite photos, because I remember the moment so clearly, but after I chose it I started to wonder if I was insane to send a picture of my rear end to many people I know.

Well, it is what it is. Happy holidays!

Varolli Holiday Party

Here we are! You can see my longer hair in this phot.

Pictures!

Our new camera arrived and it's functional. Here are some of the first pics. Carolyn & I in San Fran, the Herceptin Advisory Panel girls, and of course Tessa and Jessie decorating the gingerbread house today (I think they did a great job).

Blessings

This Sunday, we are having Tessa blessed at WSUU. Reverend Peg sent out part of the script for that event, which reads:


Sunday, during the blessing ritual, I will ask all the parents (we have thirteen children involved) to answer at the same time "I DO" to this
question:
Peg: Parents, your job is the most important job in our society. Do you promise that, to the best of your abilities, you will help your children to love themselves, to love others without prejudice, to gain an ever evolving appreciation of truth & beauty, and to achieve a deepening understanding of
how to live lives of good character and compassionate living? If so,
please say "I do"
Parents: I do.

I am thrilled to do this with and for Tessa. The congregation will also read their promises to the children, to help them grow in a loving and supportive environment, etc. I am grateful to have found this type of community, and to give Tessa the gift of support in her quest to be the best person that she can be.

Because this is not a typical Christian church, and because this fellowship embraces many world traditions and not just Christian ones, we have not invited a large group to attend the blessing ceremony. We wish to be respectful of our family members' Christian beliefs, and understand that there are those in our family who may feel uncomfortable with the liberal nature of our beliefs. For that reason, we are not sending out invitations or having a party etc. for this event; we're being pretty quiet about it. I am mentioning it here, though, to say that I am happy about this part of our spiritual evolution, and grateful that we have found a spiritual home. This is one further step in our commitment to spirituality, and I feel strongly that we are on the right path for us.

I thought I'd use the blog today to share my thoughts on the subject. Our church encompasses many world traditions and beliefs, and is as liberal as they come, but there are commonalities with Christian traditions. The blessing is akin to a dedication or christening. It is about love, commitment, values, and spirituality. I hope that our friends and family who come from a strong Christian faith can celebrate these similarities with us, and share in the understanding that we are striving to make the world a better place together. Our approach might be different, but there are important similarities, as well.

Christmas Cards

If you get one of my Christmas cards (I wish I could say that I sent them to everyone but as time and money are short it was a smaller list than "everyone"!) I wonder, sincerely, what your reaction will be.

The part of me that chose the photo thinks, "This is a picture of our family having fun together, looking ahead to the future, dreaming, laughing." Another part of me thinks "What was I thinking?!" You can decide for yourself what you think. ;-)

This year I am really, really, really trying to simplify my holiday season. I am trying to keep spending in check by making homemade gifts and shortening my giving-list (please note: I love everyone as much and more than before - the lack of giving is NOT a lack of love, but an attempt to rein in our finances and focus on time and love not stuff); I am trying not to overcommit; I'm trying to enjoy the pleasures of the season (hot coffee while sitting by the tree; singing Christmas carols to myself as I do chores; parties but not too many...) instead of feeling the dreaded "should" and "rush" that I usually feel. I did not write a single word in my cards...it would have been nice, but I would have felt rushed and stressed (and late - there is no way I could have gotten them out in time). We did not have a cocktail party. We're taking it easy...and that feels good right now. Maybe another year I'll try to do a Martha Stewart imitation, but this year I'm trying to just relax and enjoy.

Home from San Fran

Just a note to let everyone know that I am home and well. The trip was great; incredible women, interesting work, a nice hotel (nothing compares with the Ritz, but still, it was nice), and of course the incomparable Carolyn.

I have been reading (especially on the airplane ride home) the book "When Things Fall Apart" by Pema Chodron (sp?), which was a gift from Adrienne after my meltdown, and I can't tell you how much I am getting out of it. I'm receptive to the messages in it, and I feel like I'm learning so much. It is about dealing with loss and pain and grief, but also about meditation, joy, anger, fear, intellect....it's brilliant so far. I am ready to be a student.

Since my meltdown, I feel like everything has changed. The book tells me that the meltdown might have been a great turning point in my life, and I tend to agree. I am reinterpreting everything through new eyes, and I'm open to many things because I have to be. What I mean is, when things are going well, I'm not looking to change much because I have no incentive to do so. But now, when things have fallen apart and everything feels uncertain, it makes sense to be open and to try new things. Hey, it can't hurt.

In the book there is a story about a boy and a snarling, barking, ferocious dog. As the dog growls and runs toward the boy, the boy runs, too....toward the dog. The dog, startled, turns and runs away. The author suggests that this should be our approach to fear, and that only by running INTO the fear can we save ourselves. It's an interesting idea, and I'm thinking about it.

I'm tired; this much isn't new. I still feel unlike myself, and that is filled with uncertainty and I feel uncomfortable with the uncertainty. But I'm starting to feel that it will be okay, that I will find joy. I'm on a mission to do so.

Flooding update

Just a quick update here...

Fortunately, the heavy rains stopped on Monday evening, and since then, our basement has been drying out. We were able to confine the flooding to the laundry-room, office, and the landing at the bottom of the basement stairs, so only perhaps 15 or 20 square feet of carpeting plus a nice area rug was damaged (the rest of it was concrete floor). Unfortunately, that carpet is currently stinking up our house. We've got fans and heaters on it, but a most unpleasant, moldy, "old" smell is invading our basement and wafting its way upstairs - UGH.

We are going to have to replace the carpet, and since it's the same (30 year old) carpet throughout the entire basement, we will probably have to re-do the whole basement. That's going to cost us a pretty penny, so we'll have to see when we do it. I think we're going to put in vinyl or marmoleum flooring in the laundry/office area, because we just might get another flood some time. (sigh)

However, the Home Depot guy showed me a concrete sealing product that he said may help with future problems. After Christmas, when things aren't so crazy, we'll do that, and put flooring on top of it. Fingers crossed that such a simple problem works, because the alternative (French drains) would run us about $10,000 and we are not prepared for that kind of cost.

And in other news...

I leave tomorrow for a Genentech advisory board. I was going to spend a night with Carolyn and family, but poor Zach has both the stomach flu AND strep throat, and unfortunately I don't have the guts to risk getting either of those illnesses, especially when I'm out of town and it's the holidays. Darn it! I was looking forward to hanging out with their family. Anyway, unless I delay my trip by a day, I'll be gone Thurs-Sun (though I may be able to change flights; I'm waiting to talk to my reps to see what they advise tomorrow).

Love to all - I'm off to bed.

Flooding

Well, today could have been better. Of course, it could have been worse, but it definitely could have been better.

Today it is pouring rain in Seattle. Not your average misty Seattle style rain, but really coming down in buckets, without letting up. (This is also not average for Seattle; even on a rainy day there are usually periods of clearing.) The ground is so saturated that the ground water has nowhere to go...except into our basement.

Since about 8am, Ryan has been using the wet and dry vac on our basement floors, primarily in the laundry room and office aka kitchenette downstairs (originally a MIL kitchen, we use it for an office). The water has been coming in as fast as we can bail it out, which has been frustrating and back-breaking work. (Ryan calculates that the wet and dry vac holds about 100 pounds of water, which he has been lifting into the utility sink to drain it out many times per hour.) I borrowed a smaller vac from the Hisatomi's, and tried to do my share, while keeping up with Tessa, etc.

Ugh.

Ryan had to use a vacation day to do this work - what a drag!

Hopefully tomorrow will be better. It's not raining at the moment and so we're hoping for a reprieve....