My lack of blogging has gone on for a long time; I hope to break the non-blogging streak.
I'm trying very hard to be mindful. More mindful, that is. I'm trying to make positive changes in my life. I'm attempting to spend much less time online, and more time reading books. I'm attempting to be more mindful of how I eat, what I do, how I live.
The usual, only more focused.
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Tessa:
Tessa is changing before my very eyes. We had "the snaggletooth" pulled at the dentist to reveal the pretty tooth behind it, and received further confirmation of future orthodontia. Like mother and father, like daughter! Her crowded teeth also have a cavity - drat.
Tessa turned seven this weekend, and also lit the chalice at church for the first time. More on that when I have a moment to download pics to show off our pretty girl.
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
Friday, January 15, 2010
More Gratitude
I am doing my best to avoid seeing pictures of the devastation in Haiti. I simply can not shake such images out of my head, and it makes me feel so hopeless to see the despair. I saw one picture of a mother, writhing in emotional pain on the ground, as she mourned the loss of her child. In that glimpse, I was she and she was I and I shared her pain and it was hard to breathe.
The other night when Tessa was drifting off to sleep, I crawled into bed with her for a quiet snuggle. We talked about our days, giggled, whispered, and I felt the warmth of her body next to mine. I held her close and every cell in my body sent out a prayer for the people of Haiti, wishing that they could experience the same comfort.
I do have things to complain about - we all do. My wrist still hurts, especially when I over-use it, and it has a combination of burning and throbbing pains. Money is still tight. I still have nightmares about cancer, and I still bear the scars and pains and fatigue. The porch still needs replacing. And we have to drink cheap wine. (That last one added for humor. Ha.)
And the people of Haiti are quite unintentionally reminding me of my massive, amazing, incredible good fortune.
I am alive. My family is alive and well. When we are sick, we get medical care, and, miracle of miracles, we heal. We turn on the tap and water comes out every time - hot and cold, and we don't have to boil it before we drink it. The cupboards are full of food, and when they run low, we go to one of a dozen nearby stores to restock them with food. My bed is comfortable. I held a party (church potluck) and 50 people came to my house, and not one complained about inadequacies - the children laughed, the adults talked.
And our home - our lovely home. Today, I'm not seeing the rotten porch and the missing fireplace (what kind of 1923 house doesn't have a fireplace?!) and the 1970s basement. No, today I don't see that at all. I am seeing warmth, light, polished hardwood floors. I'm seeing colors chosen because they give me joy and soothe me. I'm hearing the rain beat on the windows, mixed with the sounds of Mozart on the radio. I'm gazing at hundreds and hundreds (thousands?) of books, chosen because they sounded interesting. My giant puppy is on the floor beside me, sleek and well fed and loyal; my cat refuses all but one kind of food (he's a bit of a grumpy old man sometimes) but spends each night curled at my feet. The phone rings with offers to play, to gather, to dine, to share.
In the darkest days of my life - my cancer, Ryan's depression, then my own depression - I still had this warm, comfortable home. I went to bed every night beneath soft blankets; I still had music and books and friends and family to soothe me. When my body ached beyond bearing, loving hands swooped in to care for me, my home, my family. "We're here for you," they said, and they meant it. Ryan stayed with me, Tessa kept laughing, and we remain a family, loving each other.
So today I'm thinking about all of that incredible good fortune.
The people of Haiti have lost so much already. On the radio, I heard about the contaminated drinking water, and how the silver lining is that the people of Haiti mostly already know about contaminated water and how to treat it. I saw a picture of a shantytown - the poorest of the poor, and even their shacks are gone now. I heard that most people can live three days without food and water.
And the pain of the real loss - the people. It is unbearable. All of the losses grab me, but the ones that hurt me the most are the mothers losing children. And children losing mothers. I know that those mothers love their children as much as I love Tessa, and that those children need their mothers as much as Tessa needs me. ESPECIALLY in the midst of this devastation. I think to myself that maybe I could handle it if I had Tessa beside me reminding me to care for her. Maybe. But if I lost her? My mind would leave me, too.
And the thought of Tessa, separated from Ryan and I, wandering in the streets, hungry and frightened and among corpses? No. Nononono. NO. Just writing that makes me want to fly to her school to hold her, to stroke her hair, to remind myself of her aliveness, her happiness, her safety.
And for the people of Haiti, it's not an exercise in gratitude. It is their hell on earth right now, stepping over bodies and looking for survivors and broken bones without casts and illness without antibiotics. Undoubtedly, there are cancer patients needing radiation or surgery or chemo and now they have nothing, not even water.
Here in Seattle, clean water is falling from the sky, and inside my warm home, I'm sipping peppermint tea and writing and thinking. What great luxuries. My life is one giant luxury.
My prayers for the people of Haiti. My condolences. My tears.
We sent a little check to help, and another Alki mom, Jill, convinced me (merely by mentioning it) to hold a fundraiser for Haiti involving the children of Alki Elementary. This weekend, our church is holding a soup lunch as a fundraiser for Haiti, and I am making a big pot of chili to donate to the event. (Want to come with me? Call me!)
My impact is tiny, just a drop of water in the sea of need. But I am doing what I can, and I hope that others will, too.
The other night when Tessa was drifting off to sleep, I crawled into bed with her for a quiet snuggle. We talked about our days, giggled, whispered, and I felt the warmth of her body next to mine. I held her close and every cell in my body sent out a prayer for the people of Haiti, wishing that they could experience the same comfort.
I do have things to complain about - we all do. My wrist still hurts, especially when I over-use it, and it has a combination of burning and throbbing pains. Money is still tight. I still have nightmares about cancer, and I still bear the scars and pains and fatigue. The porch still needs replacing. And we have to drink cheap wine. (That last one added for humor. Ha.)
And the people of Haiti are quite unintentionally reminding me of my massive, amazing, incredible good fortune.
I am alive. My family is alive and well. When we are sick, we get medical care, and, miracle of miracles, we heal. We turn on the tap and water comes out every time - hot and cold, and we don't have to boil it before we drink it. The cupboards are full of food, and when they run low, we go to one of a dozen nearby stores to restock them with food. My bed is comfortable. I held a party (church potluck) and 50 people came to my house, and not one complained about inadequacies - the children laughed, the adults talked.
And our home - our lovely home. Today, I'm not seeing the rotten porch and the missing fireplace (what kind of 1923 house doesn't have a fireplace?!) and the 1970s basement. No, today I don't see that at all. I am seeing warmth, light, polished hardwood floors. I'm seeing colors chosen because they give me joy and soothe me. I'm hearing the rain beat on the windows, mixed with the sounds of Mozart on the radio. I'm gazing at hundreds and hundreds (thousands?) of books, chosen because they sounded interesting. My giant puppy is on the floor beside me, sleek and well fed and loyal; my cat refuses all but one kind of food (he's a bit of a grumpy old man sometimes) but spends each night curled at my feet. The phone rings with offers to play, to gather, to dine, to share.
In the darkest days of my life - my cancer, Ryan's depression, then my own depression - I still had this warm, comfortable home. I went to bed every night beneath soft blankets; I still had music and books and friends and family to soothe me. When my body ached beyond bearing, loving hands swooped in to care for me, my home, my family. "We're here for you," they said, and they meant it. Ryan stayed with me, Tessa kept laughing, and we remain a family, loving each other.
So today I'm thinking about all of that incredible good fortune.
The people of Haiti have lost so much already. On the radio, I heard about the contaminated drinking water, and how the silver lining is that the people of Haiti mostly already know about contaminated water and how to treat it. I saw a picture of a shantytown - the poorest of the poor, and even their shacks are gone now. I heard that most people can live three days without food and water.
And the pain of the real loss - the people. It is unbearable. All of the losses grab me, but the ones that hurt me the most are the mothers losing children. And children losing mothers. I know that those mothers love their children as much as I love Tessa, and that those children need their mothers as much as Tessa needs me. ESPECIALLY in the midst of this devastation. I think to myself that maybe I could handle it if I had Tessa beside me reminding me to care for her. Maybe. But if I lost her? My mind would leave me, too.
And the thought of Tessa, separated from Ryan and I, wandering in the streets, hungry and frightened and among corpses? No. Nononono. NO. Just writing that makes me want to fly to her school to hold her, to stroke her hair, to remind myself of her aliveness, her happiness, her safety.
And for the people of Haiti, it's not an exercise in gratitude. It is their hell on earth right now, stepping over bodies and looking for survivors and broken bones without casts and illness without antibiotics. Undoubtedly, there are cancer patients needing radiation or surgery or chemo and now they have nothing, not even water.
Here in Seattle, clean water is falling from the sky, and inside my warm home, I'm sipping peppermint tea and writing and thinking. What great luxuries. My life is one giant luxury.
My prayers for the people of Haiti. My condolences. My tears.
We sent a little check to help, and another Alki mom, Jill, convinced me (merely by mentioning it) to hold a fundraiser for Haiti involving the children of Alki Elementary. This weekend, our church is holding a soup lunch as a fundraiser for Haiti, and I am making a big pot of chili to donate to the event. (Want to come with me? Call me!)
My impact is tiny, just a drop of water in the sea of need. But I am doing what I can, and I hope that others will, too.
Thursday, January 14, 2010
Listening
I've always been a talker; my mother says that I was born that way. (And that my favorite word was "no" but that is another post.)
I'm working on being a better listener these days; maybe that is one of the reasons that my blog has been so silent. I'm listening to my body, and it says that I am tired; I'm listening to my inner voice, which reminds me to stay true; I'm trying to listen more to Ryan and Tessa and all of those in my life I care so much about.
I'm also listening to the rain fall against the windows - a soothing sound. And I'm listening to Alison Kraus crooning on the CD player, melodious and sweet.
My wrist is still hurting quite a bit; I overdid it again yesterday and the price was a burning and throbbing sensation that reminded me not to do that again. It is not broken - two sets of x-rays have confirmed that - but "just a bad sprain" and it is definitely getting better. At first I couldn't even hold anything in that hand, and now, with modifications, I can do most things....as long as I don't do too much.
Ryan is settling into his latest PwC job, another Microsoft placement, and though the work sounds interesting and promising, the commute is horrible, and he spends a lot of time on a bus. He has a good attitude about it, and I am grateful for that. This gig looks like it goes through March, so at least it's not too long. We're still hoping for placements at Seattle firms.
Tessa is, well, Tessa. She's growing, both physically and intellectually, in leaps and bounds. She's going through another round of outgrowing her clothes and eating around the clock, and she's really doing well at school. She's started reading some chapter books, and she's doing much better with her homework so that it's not like pulling teeth the way it was for the first part of this year. She's excited for her upcoming birthday - we're going ice skating with a small group of her girlfriends. She is still madly in love with her American Girl doll, and takes it with her most places (though she has to leave it at home when she goes to school). She's also in love with The Beatles - she's getting Rubber Soul and Abbey Road for her birthday, at her request.
I am really slowed down by my wrist and by fatigue, but I'm doing my usual nesting around the house, and playdates with Tessa's friends, and chaperoning field trips, and the like.
One of the biggest pieces of excitement on our horizon is that our church, West Side Unitarian Universalist, is trying to buy their (our) own building. There is a very promising property, and the church is in negotiations, and in the middle of a giant capital campaign to raise funds. Our current space is rented, and it barely works for us - there are no windows, no classrooms...it is not a very worshipful space and it doesn't accomodate families well at all. The new building is in a 1950s church previously owned by the Baptists, and it has big windows, some of which have views of the Sound, and some of which have pretty stained glass. It has real church pews instead of folding chairs, and, glory of glories, actual classrooms and meeting spaces. I hate that Ryan and I don't have much money to spare (this is where, once again, I say "I HATE CANCER DEBT!") to help the cause, but we will help in as many ways as we can. In addition to being a place where we worship on Sundays, our church has become an important part of our community. Tessa has "adoptive" Grandparents there, Lois and Creighton, who dote on her almost as much as she dotes on them; I have found friends of my own, too. Ryan is involved with the Habitat for Humanity project, I'm involved with Family Promise. We can't wait to host Family Promise in our own space, to hold town meetings there, to gather together to play and laugh and drink coffee and potluck. Tessa has lots of friends there, and it makes me smile to see the kids running around and laughing together, and I hope that she will grow up with these children.
I also have an image of Tessa, on Ryan's arm, walking down the aisle in a long white dress in this building.
Only time will tell, but I am hopeful.
So our days go by, and we are busy, and grateful for our lives. Last night I crawled into bed with Tessa and snuggled and laughed with her, talking past her bedtime, and as I held her I felt my whole body give out a prayer for the families of Haiti. I complain - wrists, debt, broken dishwasher, the usual - but my life is rich and blessed and I am grateful. I wish that everyone was so lucky.
I'm working on being a better listener these days; maybe that is one of the reasons that my blog has been so silent. I'm listening to my body, and it says that I am tired; I'm listening to my inner voice, which reminds me to stay true; I'm trying to listen more to Ryan and Tessa and all of those in my life I care so much about.
I'm also listening to the rain fall against the windows - a soothing sound. And I'm listening to Alison Kraus crooning on the CD player, melodious and sweet.
My wrist is still hurting quite a bit; I overdid it again yesterday and the price was a burning and throbbing sensation that reminded me not to do that again. It is not broken - two sets of x-rays have confirmed that - but "just a bad sprain" and it is definitely getting better. At first I couldn't even hold anything in that hand, and now, with modifications, I can do most things....as long as I don't do too much.
Ryan is settling into his latest PwC job, another Microsoft placement, and though the work sounds interesting and promising, the commute is horrible, and he spends a lot of time on a bus. He has a good attitude about it, and I am grateful for that. This gig looks like it goes through March, so at least it's not too long. We're still hoping for placements at Seattle firms.
Tessa is, well, Tessa. She's growing, both physically and intellectually, in leaps and bounds. She's going through another round of outgrowing her clothes and eating around the clock, and she's really doing well at school. She's started reading some chapter books, and she's doing much better with her homework so that it's not like pulling teeth the way it was for the first part of this year. She's excited for her upcoming birthday - we're going ice skating with a small group of her girlfriends. She is still madly in love with her American Girl doll, and takes it with her most places (though she has to leave it at home when she goes to school). She's also in love with The Beatles - she's getting Rubber Soul and Abbey Road for her birthday, at her request.
I am really slowed down by my wrist and by fatigue, but I'm doing my usual nesting around the house, and playdates with Tessa's friends, and chaperoning field trips, and the like.
One of the biggest pieces of excitement on our horizon is that our church, West Side Unitarian Universalist, is trying to buy their (our) own building. There is a very promising property, and the church is in negotiations, and in the middle of a giant capital campaign to raise funds. Our current space is rented, and it barely works for us - there are no windows, no classrooms...it is not a very worshipful space and it doesn't accomodate families well at all. The new building is in a 1950s church previously owned by the Baptists, and it has big windows, some of which have views of the Sound, and some of which have pretty stained glass. It has real church pews instead of folding chairs, and, glory of glories, actual classrooms and meeting spaces. I hate that Ryan and I don't have much money to spare (this is where, once again, I say "I HATE CANCER DEBT!") to help the cause, but we will help in as many ways as we can. In addition to being a place where we worship on Sundays, our church has become an important part of our community. Tessa has "adoptive" Grandparents there, Lois and Creighton, who dote on her almost as much as she dotes on them; I have found friends of my own, too. Ryan is involved with the Habitat for Humanity project, I'm involved with Family Promise. We can't wait to host Family Promise in our own space, to hold town meetings there, to gather together to play and laugh and drink coffee and potluck. Tessa has lots of friends there, and it makes me smile to see the kids running around and laughing together, and I hope that she will grow up with these children.
I also have an image of Tessa, on Ryan's arm, walking down the aisle in a long white dress in this building.
Only time will tell, but I am hopeful.
So our days go by, and we are busy, and grateful for our lives. Last night I crawled into bed with Tessa and snuggled and laughed with her, talking past her bedtime, and as I held her I felt my whole body give out a prayer for the families of Haiti. I complain - wrists, debt, broken dishwasher, the usual - but my life is rich and blessed and I am grateful. I wish that everyone was so lucky.
Tuesday, January 05, 2010
Sunday, January 03, 2010
Practicing a good attitude
Yesterday Tessa and I went ice skating - so much fun! I was having a ton of fun until I went too fast and lost control and fell backwards (I think I must have looked like a cartoon character at that moment), landing full on my right wrist. OUCH. Actually, I'm proud that I called out "ouch" and not some less child-friendly word because it really hurt.
I've been icing it and I got a wrist brace to wear, too, which protects it from bumps and holds it steady. It really, really, really hurts. (I can't say that enough - i'm feeling quite sorry for myself ont hat front.) I took two oxycodone left over from another operation and it is still a sharp pain and I can't pick anything up with that hand. I am wearing a simple dress today that pulls over my head becasue I could not button my own jeans.
Obviously, this has some challenges.
I will go to the doctor tomorrow for an xray and suspect that I have a broken wrist - online searching says that is probably the case, and a doctor friend at church suspects that too. Whatever it is, it isn't good.
But it will be okay.
A broken wrist isn't ideal, of course, but it's okay. It's not permanent. It won't try to kill me. It won't require poisoning or burning my body to cure it. It IS curable. It does not change how much my family lvoes me, or how comfortable our home is, or how mcuh I enjoy my friends. It does not mess with my family, threaten Tessa's childhood or my marriage.
A wrist is just a wrist.
It hurts a lot, but pain is just pain. Oxycodone is my friend. I will take care of this and deal with it, and I promise that I will complain about it until you beg me to be quiet. But I am so grateful to have a normal problem - I fell while ice skating. Nothing more or less.
Maybe this is a chance for down time. And wearing yoga pants for weeks on end. Namaste!
I've been icing it and I got a wrist brace to wear, too, which protects it from bumps and holds it steady. It really, really, really hurts. (I can't say that enough - i'm feeling quite sorry for myself ont hat front.) I took two oxycodone left over from another operation and it is still a sharp pain and I can't pick anything up with that hand. I am wearing a simple dress today that pulls over my head becasue I could not button my own jeans.
Obviously, this has some challenges.
I will go to the doctor tomorrow for an xray and suspect that I have a broken wrist - online searching says that is probably the case, and a doctor friend at church suspects that too. Whatever it is, it isn't good.
But it will be okay.
A broken wrist isn't ideal, of course, but it's okay. It's not permanent. It won't try to kill me. It won't require poisoning or burning my body to cure it. It IS curable. It does not change how much my family lvoes me, or how comfortable our home is, or how mcuh I enjoy my friends. It does not mess with my family, threaten Tessa's childhood or my marriage.
A wrist is just a wrist.
It hurts a lot, but pain is just pain. Oxycodone is my friend. I will take care of this and deal with it, and I promise that I will complain about it until you beg me to be quiet. But I am so grateful to have a normal problem - I fell while ice skating. Nothing more or less.
Maybe this is a chance for down time. And wearing yoga pants for weeks on end. Namaste!
Sunday, December 27, 2009
Winding down, gearing up
Winding down the year now - Christmas has come and gone, and it was lovely. Family, friends, church, the delight in Tessa's eyes. I've learned a lot about American Girl dolls, but first and foremost is the information that Tessa's is named Maya and she's "the best gift ever." Thanks, Santa!
Today I spoke at church, reflecting on the year behind, the year ahead. It was difficult to speak about the tumultuousness of "the scare" but joyful to talk about my conclusion: it is a good thing simply to be alive.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WLgLfD3wElQ
The tree is down, though the stockings and lights are still up. We're getting ready to visit family and friends in Portland for a couple of days.
Winding down a long year....gearing up for a new year.
Today I spoke at church, reflecting on the year behind, the year ahead. It was difficult to speak about the tumultuousness of "the scare" but joyful to talk about my conclusion: it is a good thing simply to be alive.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WLgLfD3wElQ
The tree is down, though the stockings and lights are still up. We're getting ready to visit family and friends in Portland for a couple of days.
Winding down a long year....gearing up for a new year.
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
Zoom
Life continues to zoom by, even when I'm moving slowly.
I've had lots of questions about my blog, and why I'm not writing much, and I don't have "real" answers. I think it just boils down to being busy.
And tired.
I can never seem to get caught up with my fatigue. One late night really exhausts me for days; normal activity tires me out. I don't really understand it, so I can't fully explain it. As the Beatles sang, "I'm not the man I used to be." Woman. Whatever.
Studies show that about 30% of cancer survivors suffer long term fatigue, or chemo brain. I have both, and it is a "new normal" that requires some adjustments that I'm still learning to make. My attention span is shorter, I'm easily tired, and my brain feels like it has to work a lot harder at simple things.
I don't think I'm complaining, just explaining. Four and a half years after my diagnosis, I thought I'd be SO far past all of this, and I'm not. I think that it has a lot to do with the extremeties of my treatment: the chemo, of course, but also the deep burns, the number of surgeries, the number of complications, the extended use of cancer drugs, the utter loss of estrogen (surgically and chemically).
I do not regret my cancer treatment choices. I did the best I could with the information that I had at the time, and if I had to do it all again, most likely, I would. But I had no way of predicting the price it would extract from me. The price is heavy.
I am thinking about these things a lot lately, and I have a lot more thinking to do. I am not me, I'm someone else. I am trying to learn, to adapt, to change to that new circumstance.
But life is good, even with negative changes. Tessa is doing well at school, and I'm so proud not just of her learning but of the way she's learning to be a hard worker and do her homework and things like that. She is a wonderful daughter, and I am blessed. Ryan's job is going well, and he's going to take a couple weeks of vacation over the holidays - hurrah. We're looking forward to a quiet yet festive Christmas - family, food, relaxation. We have cut back a ton, and we are not in a position to give many gifts this year (we are determined to get that "cancer debt" under control!) but still, that is okay. We look forward to time with friends and family, playing in the snow at Snoqualmie, a short trip to Portland to see Mom & Dad Surface, and of course, watching Tessa's eyes light up on Christmas morning.
It's a wonderful life. Not the life I'd planned, but a wonderful life. I "get" that movie more than ever these days.
We aren't sending Christmas cards this year, so I'll do a "Christmas card post." Soon. :-)
I've had lots of questions about my blog, and why I'm not writing much, and I don't have "real" answers. I think it just boils down to being busy.
And tired.
I can never seem to get caught up with my fatigue. One late night really exhausts me for days; normal activity tires me out. I don't really understand it, so I can't fully explain it. As the Beatles sang, "I'm not the man I used to be." Woman. Whatever.
Studies show that about 30% of cancer survivors suffer long term fatigue, or chemo brain. I have both, and it is a "new normal" that requires some adjustments that I'm still learning to make. My attention span is shorter, I'm easily tired, and my brain feels like it has to work a lot harder at simple things.
I don't think I'm complaining, just explaining. Four and a half years after my diagnosis, I thought I'd be SO far past all of this, and I'm not. I think that it has a lot to do with the extremeties of my treatment: the chemo, of course, but also the deep burns, the number of surgeries, the number of complications, the extended use of cancer drugs, the utter loss of estrogen (surgically and chemically).
I do not regret my cancer treatment choices. I did the best I could with the information that I had at the time, and if I had to do it all again, most likely, I would. But I had no way of predicting the price it would extract from me. The price is heavy.
I am thinking about these things a lot lately, and I have a lot more thinking to do. I am not me, I'm someone else. I am trying to learn, to adapt, to change to that new circumstance.
But life is good, even with negative changes. Tessa is doing well at school, and I'm so proud not just of her learning but of the way she's learning to be a hard worker and do her homework and things like that. She is a wonderful daughter, and I am blessed. Ryan's job is going well, and he's going to take a couple weeks of vacation over the holidays - hurrah. We're looking forward to a quiet yet festive Christmas - family, food, relaxation. We have cut back a ton, and we are not in a position to give many gifts this year (we are determined to get that "cancer debt" under control!) but still, that is okay. We look forward to time with friends and family, playing in the snow at Snoqualmie, a short trip to Portland to see Mom & Dad Surface, and of course, watching Tessa's eyes light up on Christmas morning.
It's a wonderful life. Not the life I'd planned, but a wonderful life. I "get" that movie more than ever these days.
We aren't sending Christmas cards this year, so I'll do a "Christmas card post." Soon. :-)
Saturday, November 14, 2009
Now, where was I?
I went into the woods because I wanted to live deliberately. I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life...to put to rout all that was not life; and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived.~Henry David Thoreau
I do not exactly know why I haven't blogged in ages - this is my longest blogging break since beginning to blog - but I do know that life has been busy and I've been hunting down my marrow. I can't tell you that I've reached any grand conclusions, or that I have anything in particular figured out, just that I'm nesting, trying to care for my actual nest (home), body, and soul. I'm trying to figure out how to cram in as much joy and depth as possible, while still living simply...without rushing. I have a feeling that this is a goal I will never reach, but I will continue to reach in the general direction.
I suppose my biggest change since my blog break is that I re-joined Weight Watchers. I've been on it for almost two weeks, I've dropped a few pounds, and I feel VERY happy about the direction I'm headed. One day, I just woke up and realized I'd had enough. I took Shep for a long walk through Lincoln Park, and I sort of meditated on the problem of size and health. By the end of my walk, I knew what I needed to do. Of course, I knew all along, but somehow, I just felt settled in the decision, and committed. I am not too worried about losing the weight, because I've done it before and I have faith in my ability to do it again, but I am very concerned about keeping it off. One step at a time; I am up for the challenge. I am trying to live in the present moment....but I'm fantasizing about what I'll look like six or twelve weeks from now.
Fall always makes me want to clean house - much more than spring, when all I want to do is be outdoors. This year, I'm cleaning mentally and physically, and Weight Watchers is part of that for me. I'm also on a rampage to get rid of stuff - anything that's cluttering my life, including old paperwork, weight, Tessa's old toys, clothes, any anything else that isn't either functional or beautiful. I've been striving to declutter the surfaces of our home, and doing so makes me feel more rested within myself.
Speaking of rested, I'm not. I'm tired, pretty much always. I'm trying to learn to adapt to this version of myself, and though it's frustrating, I think I'm learning to slow down.
I am getting very excited about the holidays, as usual. This year, most of the Surface clan - 16 of us total - is gathering at our house for Thanksgiving, and I've started putting together recipes and making a plan for that week. I can't wait to have our house filled to bursting, with the chaos of so many people talking and laughing and eating. Usually I do the holidays in a formal style, but this year I'm going to try a buffet, casual style that is more relaxed. Ryan is very happy about the prospect of avoiding hours hand washing china and crystal, too. (I have to have it for Christmas...but that is a smaller crowd so easier.) Our out of town relatives are coming just for the day, so we won't have any houseguests this year. I actually love having houseguests, but it will also be nice to wake up the day after Thanksgiving and have "nothing to do." (We do plan to go to the holiday parade downtown, though.)
Tessa is well, Ryan is well, and I am well. Busy with life, but well. I have some wishes out in the universe right now, and I'll let you know if they come true for our family...time will tell. But I am grateful for health, grateful for family and friends, and life is good.
I do not exactly know why I haven't blogged in ages - this is my longest blogging break since beginning to blog - but I do know that life has been busy and I've been hunting down my marrow. I can't tell you that I've reached any grand conclusions, or that I have anything in particular figured out, just that I'm nesting, trying to care for my actual nest (home), body, and soul. I'm trying to figure out how to cram in as much joy and depth as possible, while still living simply...without rushing. I have a feeling that this is a goal I will never reach, but I will continue to reach in the general direction.
I suppose my biggest change since my blog break is that I re-joined Weight Watchers. I've been on it for almost two weeks, I've dropped a few pounds, and I feel VERY happy about the direction I'm headed. One day, I just woke up and realized I'd had enough. I took Shep for a long walk through Lincoln Park, and I sort of meditated on the problem of size and health. By the end of my walk, I knew what I needed to do. Of course, I knew all along, but somehow, I just felt settled in the decision, and committed. I am not too worried about losing the weight, because I've done it before and I have faith in my ability to do it again, but I am very concerned about keeping it off. One step at a time; I am up for the challenge. I am trying to live in the present moment....but I'm fantasizing about what I'll look like six or twelve weeks from now.
Fall always makes me want to clean house - much more than spring, when all I want to do is be outdoors. This year, I'm cleaning mentally and physically, and Weight Watchers is part of that for me. I'm also on a rampage to get rid of stuff - anything that's cluttering my life, including old paperwork, weight, Tessa's old toys, clothes, any anything else that isn't either functional or beautiful. I've been striving to declutter the surfaces of our home, and doing so makes me feel more rested within myself.
Speaking of rested, I'm not. I'm tired, pretty much always. I'm trying to learn to adapt to this version of myself, and though it's frustrating, I think I'm learning to slow down.
I am getting very excited about the holidays, as usual. This year, most of the Surface clan - 16 of us total - is gathering at our house for Thanksgiving, and I've started putting together recipes and making a plan for that week. I can't wait to have our house filled to bursting, with the chaos of so many people talking and laughing and eating. Usually I do the holidays in a formal style, but this year I'm going to try a buffet, casual style that is more relaxed. Ryan is very happy about the prospect of avoiding hours hand washing china and crystal, too. (I have to have it for Christmas...but that is a smaller crowd so easier.) Our out of town relatives are coming just for the day, so we won't have any houseguests this year. I actually love having houseguests, but it will also be nice to wake up the day after Thanksgiving and have "nothing to do." (We do plan to go to the holiday parade downtown, though.)
Tessa is well, Ryan is well, and I am well. Busy with life, but well. I have some wishes out in the universe right now, and I'll let you know if they come true for our family...time will tell. But I am grateful for health, grateful for family and friends, and life is good.
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
Life
I'm still alive, and I still revel in that fact. My recent scare ("trauma" would be a better word!) has changed me. I've always found joy in life, but right now, I'm seeing more clearly than ever before. My life is a gift, and I am so grateful.
Our family is trying to truly buckle down - still, or more - on expenses so that we can pay off cancer-debt. No more meals out, no more take-out. Ryan is bringing his lunch every day instead of just sometimes, and I am cooking dinner every single night. We're eating vegetarian about 50% of the time (but even then, we eat cheese and/or eggs....we're not even close to vegan). I'm getting better at finding coupons for the types of things we buy, and I'm remembering to use them. It's all a lot of work, and requires a lot more planning and persistance, but it's working, and I'm proud of us. In the past year or two, I think I've cut our grocery bill in half, and I've cut our waste significantly as well (yes, the two are related).
I can't remember the last time I went to Target. Funny, I don't miss it at all! We have what we need, and a lot more than that. When I do need something, I'm much better at getting that thing, and not throwing other stuff in my cart.
It's not all fun and games. The school and church auctions are coming up, and we won't be able to contribute much. It would be lovely to take some nice vacations. And most of all, our front porch is in desperate need of work.
Cancer debt is depressing, especially because it keeps growing (this latest business is going to cost us thousands....sigh). We still owe my parents, and how I wish we could write them a fat check to apply towards rebuilding their house: I'd love to buy their granite counters, or some other upgrade....
But it's okay. It's all okay.
Over the last couple of nights, our family watched the Kit "American Girl" movie (from the library). It was another reminder about how lucky we are - we're giving to soup kitchens, not eating at them. Our futures look bright.
This weekend, we're headed to Marisa's cabin for some R&R. Halloween is coming up, and our family attends a party that we just love (in addition to trick or treating with neighbors). Family is coming for Thanksgiving, and we're excited for that. And Christmas? I haven't even thought about it yet, but I love the holidays.
Tessa is growing in leaps and bounds at school. She's been struggling with her reading, but I see her catching up, and her ability to do homework is extraordinary. Our whole family has had to adjust to it - every night she has three or so worksheets, plus spelling/sight words. At the beginning of the school year she cried and complained and whined "I can't! It's too hard!" but last night she happily brought it to the kitchen table as I was prepping dinner and said, "I like homework!" We're finding our routine, and it's working well.
I'm working on the book, and making progress. I hope that my boss doesn't hate me for being so far behind, but I'm catching up and hopeful that I can turn it into what it ought to be. Ryan is helping out more at home so that I can focus on the book, and I'm grateful for that.
I'm counting my blessings. I am grateful for the bounty of my life, and trying to see things with perspective. I am a lucky woman.
Our family is trying to truly buckle down - still, or more - on expenses so that we can pay off cancer-debt. No more meals out, no more take-out. Ryan is bringing his lunch every day instead of just sometimes, and I am cooking dinner every single night. We're eating vegetarian about 50% of the time (but even then, we eat cheese and/or eggs....we're not even close to vegan). I'm getting better at finding coupons for the types of things we buy, and I'm remembering to use them. It's all a lot of work, and requires a lot more planning and persistance, but it's working, and I'm proud of us. In the past year or two, I think I've cut our grocery bill in half, and I've cut our waste significantly as well (yes, the two are related).
I can't remember the last time I went to Target. Funny, I don't miss it at all! We have what we need, and a lot more than that. When I do need something, I'm much better at getting that thing, and not throwing other stuff in my cart.
It's not all fun and games. The school and church auctions are coming up, and we won't be able to contribute much. It would be lovely to take some nice vacations. And most of all, our front porch is in desperate need of work.
Cancer debt is depressing, especially because it keeps growing (this latest business is going to cost us thousands....sigh). We still owe my parents, and how I wish we could write them a fat check to apply towards rebuilding their house: I'd love to buy their granite counters, or some other upgrade....
But it's okay. It's all okay.
Over the last couple of nights, our family watched the Kit "American Girl" movie (from the library). It was another reminder about how lucky we are - we're giving to soup kitchens, not eating at them. Our futures look bright.
This weekend, we're headed to Marisa's cabin for some R&R. Halloween is coming up, and our family attends a party that we just love (in addition to trick or treating with neighbors). Family is coming for Thanksgiving, and we're excited for that. And Christmas? I haven't even thought about it yet, but I love the holidays.
Tessa is growing in leaps and bounds at school. She's been struggling with her reading, but I see her catching up, and her ability to do homework is extraordinary. Our whole family has had to adjust to it - every night she has three or so worksheets, plus spelling/sight words. At the beginning of the school year she cried and complained and whined "I can't! It's too hard!" but last night she happily brought it to the kitchen table as I was prepping dinner and said, "I like homework!" We're finding our routine, and it's working well.
I'm working on the book, and making progress. I hope that my boss doesn't hate me for being so far behind, but I'm catching up and hopeful that I can turn it into what it ought to be. Ryan is helping out more at home so that I can focus on the book, and I'm grateful for that.
I'm counting my blessings. I am grateful for the bounty of my life, and trying to see things with perspective. I am a lucky woman.
Wednesday, October 07, 2009
The Great Recession
I'm making dinner and listening to NPR commentary about the recession, the job market, and the economy in general. There was just a prediction that it may take until 2017 to recover all of the lost jobs.
WHAT?! I thought that a couple more years sounded harsh, but that is a very long time.
For those who have lost jobs and not been able to recover them, these are frightening times.
Tessa and I have been reading the American Girl story of Kit in the Great Depression (1934), and we're finding an awful lot of parallels. We're also reading "Little House on Plum Creek," the fourth in the "Little House on the Prairie" series, and we just finished the chapter where the grasshopper cloud came down on the wheat a week before harvest time, and completely destroyed the Ingalls' crop, and they owe money to the bank for their new house, and Pa's boots have holes in them and now they don't even have food. Bank collapse or grasshoppers, financial instability is anything but new. It seems that today's problems are old tales, that these stories have been around forever, but I have to say I honestly didn't see it coming. That makes me blind, I think.
Such large changes in the world are bringing about smaller changes in my world.
Tonight there is soccer after school, and then there is a PTA meeting tonight. (Oh my goodness - look at my life!) We will only have about an hour in between, and it would be so appealing to go out to dinner. Instead, I made vegetable soup in the crock pot, and Beth is bringing some bread, and we'll have dinner waiting for us after soccer. A few years ago in a similar circumstance I would have gone out to eat, no question, and not thought much about the money. But now we think about money frequently. I was going to make squash soup, but I had some leftover tomatoes that I needed to use, so vegetable soup it is tonight; squash keeps longer than fresh tomatoes.
And somehow, it is okay. I hope my soup tastes good (fresh kale, celery, carrots, zuchinni and cranberry beans from the market; onions from my garden; herbs from my garden and Sarah's; we'll top it with shavings of parmesan cheese), and I know it's healthier than what I would eat if I went out. Dinner will be waiting for Ryan, hot when he gets home. I saved some leftover kale and celery tops in an old yogurt container, and stuck them in the freezer for next time I make soup stock. The rest of the vegetable scraps went into the worm bin, where they will turn into rich compost for my garden next year. We eat a lot more vegetarian meals than we used to - we've changed from maybe 5% vegetarian to 50% vegetarian, and our pocketbooks are helped, and so is our health (hopefully). The environment probably appreciates the break, too.
I'm not wasting nearly as much as I used to - even vegetable scraps go to good use. I can't - our medical bills still stink and they keep coming in. (This latest episode will likely cost us a couple thousand out of pocket, which is MUCH less than insurance will pay, but still hurts.) But right now, I feel like I'm in good company. My friends don't mind coming over for a simple vegetable soup, and nobody seems to mind when I say that I'm watching my money and can't do some activity (and offer a cheaper alternative.) People know that times are hard, and it seems like there is a lot less pressure to do things in a grand style.
But these simple styles are really, really appealing to me. I love the green aspects, I love the slower aspects, and I love the healthier aspects.
I wouldn't wish this economy on anyone, but we're doing okay. We feel broke most of the time, but it is a good, good, good life. We are very fortunate.
Vegetable soup on a cold day, friends, activities. Our bank account looks crummy (bah.), but somehow, it will all work out. The Depression ended eventually; Laura Ingalls went on to write all those books. The story isn't done.
WHAT?! I thought that a couple more years sounded harsh, but that is a very long time.
For those who have lost jobs and not been able to recover them, these are frightening times.
Tessa and I have been reading the American Girl story of Kit in the Great Depression (1934), and we're finding an awful lot of parallels. We're also reading "Little House on Plum Creek," the fourth in the "Little House on the Prairie" series, and we just finished the chapter where the grasshopper cloud came down on the wheat a week before harvest time, and completely destroyed the Ingalls' crop, and they owe money to the bank for their new house, and Pa's boots have holes in them and now they don't even have food. Bank collapse or grasshoppers, financial instability is anything but new. It seems that today's problems are old tales, that these stories have been around forever, but I have to say I honestly didn't see it coming. That makes me blind, I think.
Such large changes in the world are bringing about smaller changes in my world.
Tonight there is soccer after school, and then there is a PTA meeting tonight. (Oh my goodness - look at my life!) We will only have about an hour in between, and it would be so appealing to go out to dinner. Instead, I made vegetable soup in the crock pot, and Beth is bringing some bread, and we'll have dinner waiting for us after soccer. A few years ago in a similar circumstance I would have gone out to eat, no question, and not thought much about the money. But now we think about money frequently. I was going to make squash soup, but I had some leftover tomatoes that I needed to use, so vegetable soup it is tonight; squash keeps longer than fresh tomatoes.
And somehow, it is okay. I hope my soup tastes good (fresh kale, celery, carrots, zuchinni and cranberry beans from the market; onions from my garden; herbs from my garden and Sarah's; we'll top it with shavings of parmesan cheese), and I know it's healthier than what I would eat if I went out. Dinner will be waiting for Ryan, hot when he gets home. I saved some leftover kale and celery tops in an old yogurt container, and stuck them in the freezer for next time I make soup stock. The rest of the vegetable scraps went into the worm bin, where they will turn into rich compost for my garden next year. We eat a lot more vegetarian meals than we used to - we've changed from maybe 5% vegetarian to 50% vegetarian, and our pocketbooks are helped, and so is our health (hopefully). The environment probably appreciates the break, too.
I'm not wasting nearly as much as I used to - even vegetable scraps go to good use. I can't - our medical bills still stink and they keep coming in. (This latest episode will likely cost us a couple thousand out of pocket, which is MUCH less than insurance will pay, but still hurts.) But right now, I feel like I'm in good company. My friends don't mind coming over for a simple vegetable soup, and nobody seems to mind when I say that I'm watching my money and can't do some activity (and offer a cheaper alternative.) People know that times are hard, and it seems like there is a lot less pressure to do things in a grand style.
But these simple styles are really, really appealing to me. I love the green aspects, I love the slower aspects, and I love the healthier aspects.
I wouldn't wish this economy on anyone, but we're doing okay. We feel broke most of the time, but it is a good, good, good life. We are very fortunate.
Vegetable soup on a cold day, friends, activities. Our bank account looks crummy (bah.), but somehow, it will all work out. The Depression ended eventually; Laura Ingalls went on to write all those books. The story isn't done.
Thursday, October 01, 2009
Gratitude
Today Lida and I went back to Olympus Spa. We soaked, we talked, we read, we roasted, and we froze. I meditated for a little while.
It felt like playing hooky! Well, it was playing hooky, because my house is a mess and the breakfast dishes are in the sink. Ah, well, it was worth it.
I have some thoughts about breast cancer awareness month and a number of things....but right now I think it's time to do chores.
It felt like playing hooky! Well, it was playing hooky, because my house is a mess and the breakfast dishes are in the sink. Ah, well, it was worth it.
I have some thoughts about breast cancer awareness month and a number of things....but right now I think it's time to do chores.
Saturday, September 26, 2009
Floating
I wonder when the floating, euphoric sensation will stop? Right now, I am so very attuned to the joys of my days. Last night some friends came for dinner, and the food was so good (potluck) that it gave me a little thrill; this morning, we walked to C&P and my tea* tasted nothing short of spectacular, and running into friends was a particular treat. Today we are Maisy-sitting (Maisy is a labradoodle puppy) and watching Shep and Maisy tear around the back yard together, full of doggy mischief and fun, makes me giggle.
Tessa has back to back birthday parties to attend today. The first is a "sporty" theme, and she's wearing a little tennis skort and work out top with a sassy pony tail and a pair of running shoes. The afternoon party is a "fancy" theme, and she's wearing a long white princess dress, crown, etc. Ryan is taking Tessa to the first party, and I'm attending the second party. What joy that our lives are filled with friends, celebrations, and fun.
Tomorrow I will get to stand up in front of the congregation and share my joy. I'll bet that I'll cry, and I don't care. And in the afternoon we're going to Tessa's second soccer game, and the grownups will stand on the sidelines and cheer and chat (fortunately, it's a GREAT group of parents - people are just genuinely happy to see their kids trying, and it's not one of those sideline groups that makes people cringe to watch).
I hope that I can keep this feeling a long, long time.
*I'm cutting back on my coffee. A cup or two a day, but not the insane quantities that I had been consuming. I had coffee before we decided to go to C&P, and hence the tea.
Tessa has back to back birthday parties to attend today. The first is a "sporty" theme, and she's wearing a little tennis skort and work out top with a sassy pony tail and a pair of running shoes. The afternoon party is a "fancy" theme, and she's wearing a long white princess dress, crown, etc. Ryan is taking Tessa to the first party, and I'm attending the second party. What joy that our lives are filled with friends, celebrations, and fun.
Tomorrow I will get to stand up in front of the congregation and share my joy. I'll bet that I'll cry, and I don't care. And in the afternoon we're going to Tessa's second soccer game, and the grownups will stand on the sidelines and cheer and chat (fortunately, it's a GREAT group of parents - people are just genuinely happy to see their kids trying, and it's not one of those sideline groups that makes people cringe to watch).
I hope that I can keep this feeling a long, long time.
*I'm cutting back on my coffee. A cup or two a day, but not the insane quantities that I had been consuming. I had coffee before we decided to go to C&P, and hence the tea.
Friday, September 25, 2009
The bliss of a normal life
I am still riding high. I actually feel high, without the help of drugs. (My apologies to friends who saw me on "percocet afternoon" - I think for a while there I was talking twice my normal (fast) speed!)
My neck still reminds me that I've had recent surgery, but it is almost a pleasure to feel the small pain, not because I am a masochist but because it reminds me how close I came to losing it all (or so it felt).
Several friends and family members have now confided to me how worried they were, and how intense their emotions have been through this. I have been blessed by tears by many, upon hearing my good news. I am filled with joy and gratitude that there are those who care so much about me, who will me to be well.
And today I'm doing tons of usually tiresome chores. Okay, my chores - laundry, mow lawn, vacuum, etc. - are still tiresome, but today there is a difference. Today I am living in the moment, relishing the small pleasures. A clean floor, a drawer with things lined just so, the books in Tessa's bookcase all lined up beside one another. Look at my life! I have drawers full of useful things, I have a home often filled with laughter and sometimes shared tears (both are important, I think), I have food in my belly, a dog who follows me with love in his eyes.
Tonight a few friends are coming for a potluck. I will sit in my small, ordinary back yard, a glass of wine in hand, and laugh with them, and help with our collection of children, and feel Ryan's arm around my shoulders, and I will know that I am rich. I will know that it is heaven, that I am blessed, and that life is filled with so much joy.
Pain, too. Yes, there is a lot of pain. I know that. But I don't want to lose sight of how much joy there is, too.
Have a wonderful, joy filled weekend, my friends. May you feel joy in the mundane, and find beauty in the small things. Remember that it can all be taken away in a moment, but instead of dwelling in that terror, remind yourself that you are here, now, and that fact alone is beautiful. Visit me in this place...come live with me here, reveling in our lives.
With love,
Kristina
My neck still reminds me that I've had recent surgery, but it is almost a pleasure to feel the small pain, not because I am a masochist but because it reminds me how close I came to losing it all (or so it felt).
Several friends and family members have now confided to me how worried they were, and how intense their emotions have been through this. I have been blessed by tears by many, upon hearing my good news. I am filled with joy and gratitude that there are those who care so much about me, who will me to be well.
And today I'm doing tons of usually tiresome chores. Okay, my chores - laundry, mow lawn, vacuum, etc. - are still tiresome, but today there is a difference. Today I am living in the moment, relishing the small pleasures. A clean floor, a drawer with things lined just so, the books in Tessa's bookcase all lined up beside one another. Look at my life! I have drawers full of useful things, I have a home often filled with laughter and sometimes shared tears (both are important, I think), I have food in my belly, a dog who follows me with love in his eyes.
Tonight a few friends are coming for a potluck. I will sit in my small, ordinary back yard, a glass of wine in hand, and laugh with them, and help with our collection of children, and feel Ryan's arm around my shoulders, and I will know that I am rich. I will know that it is heaven, that I am blessed, and that life is filled with so much joy.
Pain, too. Yes, there is a lot of pain. I know that. But I don't want to lose sight of how much joy there is, too.
Have a wonderful, joy filled weekend, my friends. May you feel joy in the mundane, and find beauty in the small things. Remember that it can all be taken away in a moment, but instead of dwelling in that terror, remind yourself that you are here, now, and that fact alone is beautiful. Visit me in this place...come live with me here, reveling in our lives.
With love,
Kristina
Thursday, September 24, 2009
A normal day
I'm just about to wake Tessa up from her slumbers; Ryan is on a bus somewhere on the way to work. I'm wearing my workout clothes in anticipation of a walk/jog along Alki with Shep. It's Sarah's birthday, and I'm baking a cake today for her.
It is a good, good, good life. Warts and all.
It is a good, good, good life. Warts and all.
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
My best life
If you got a second (third, fourth, fiftieth) chance at life, what would you do? What would you change? What would you keep?
I have a lot of thinking to do. I have been granted a new chance to be alive, and I could not be more grateful. I will not waste my life, and I will not take it for granted.
I have a lot of thinking to do. I have been granted a new chance to be alive, and I could not be more grateful. I will not waste my life, and I will not take it for granted.
MORE benign news!
This day keeps getting better.
Just got off the phone with Dr. Rinn, who just got off the phone with the pathologist. The nodes are so absolutely normal that they are not doing further testing - NO signs of lymphoma.
Benign all the way!
It is time to celebrate. :-)
Just got off the phone with Dr. Rinn, who just got off the phone with the pathologist. The nodes are so absolutely normal that they are not doing further testing - NO signs of lymphoma.
Benign all the way!
It is time to celebrate. :-)
Initial results: BENIGN!
My lovely onc called.
Initial results are in: BENIGN for breast cancer.
Oh I can not tell you the level of relief....I have been so scared.
We're waiting to hear if there will be further pathology for lymphoma but this is GREAT news and we will take whatever comes after it.
Thank you for your love, support, and prayers through all of this.
I'm shaking with relief, giddy and nervous and excited....
Initial results are in: BENIGN for breast cancer.
Oh I can not tell you the level of relief....I have been so scared.
We're waiting to hear if there will be further pathology for lymphoma but this is GREAT news and we will take whatever comes after it.
Thank you for your love, support, and prayers through all of this.
I'm shaking with relief, giddy and nervous and excited....
Making an effort
The past couple days I haven't done a thing - mostly just laid in bed. Today, I'm attempting to be up and at'em. I'm showered and dressed, Tessa's oatmeal is cooking, and I'm going to try to get through the whole day in a somewhat normal fashion.
I took the clear plastic (Tegaderm?) bandage off my neck, and I'm glad I did. It looks like I was having an allergic reaction to it - I have one blister, and the whole area is red. OUCH. I'm keeping an eye on it, and I'll call the doc today. (A good chance to pester him about results, anyway.)
So, off I go to greet the day. Still hoping, wishing, praying for good results....
I took the clear plastic (Tegaderm?) bandage off my neck, and I'm glad I did. It looks like I was having an allergic reaction to it - I have one blister, and the whole area is red. OUCH. I'm keeping an eye on it, and I'll call the doc today. (A good chance to pester him about results, anyway.)
So, off I go to greet the day. Still hoping, wishing, praying for good results....
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
Waiting for answers
This morning, Tessa snuggled up to me and said, "Mommy, when are you going to stop having surgeries?"
I still don't know. Please please let me be done, let me be healthy, let me have a long life...
I still don't know. Please please let me be done, let me be healthy, let me have a long life...
Recovering
Last night I slept soundly from 10-12, and then I was awake all night, with only minutes of sleep here and there. Why? I have no idea! I am so tired that the fatigue is like a cloak of achiness draped over me - why couldn't I sleep? Tonight I will take an Ambien to make sure it doesn't happen again.
Ryan is getting Tessa ready; Laurie is giving her a ride to school. I'm in bed.
Recovery is not as much fun as being fully recovered.
Edited to add:
Tessa is off to school, Ryan is off to work. I'm going to hunker down all day and just enjoy the stillness. I'm in bed with a cat at my feet and a dog at the floor beside me. It is time to rest. My neck really hurts and is showing some bruising...I'm moving really, really slowly.
Ryan is getting Tessa ready; Laurie is giving her a ride to school. I'm in bed.
Recovery is not as much fun as being fully recovered.
Edited to add:
Tessa is off to school, Ryan is off to work. I'm going to hunker down all day and just enjoy the stillness. I'm in bed with a cat at my feet and a dog at the floor beside me. It is time to rest. My neck really hurts and is showing some bruising...I'm moving really, really slowly.
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