Hymns

I really appreciate the hymns I have learned over the years in the Lord's Recovery. As I sing with the christian group that I am currently meeting with I get frustrated with the overall shallowness and lightness of the hymns we sing. I look at the kids standing with their families, some looking frequently at the clock and others singing with the same gusto as their parents. But most, showing the same lack of interest as most everyone around them. Church is more of a chore I think. It is what good Christians are supposed to do on Sunday. It makes them fulfill the spiritual duty to the family. It must add a little meaning. But I wonder what the kids will walk away with. How is a true relationship with God established?

As Fred and I look back on our being raised in the Recovery (I suppose I can go into all of that history at a later date.) we see how much stress was put on our inner life relationship with the Lord. Seeking Him daily on our own. Praying through Bible verses every day. Memorizing. Praying together, seeking the leading of the Lord as we pray and building on the prayers of others, and what I appreciate the most, Singing Hymns.

I would say the majority of the benefit came from being in the midwest and in the high school and college trainings with Tutus Chu. But not just Titus, there were many other brothers. Fred calls them our heroes. Brothers who have given their lives to serve the Lord, constantly seeking and trying to teach us how to seek as well. He can't see the heroes that the kids in our christian church have.

This morning we were singing a song about how things change and are never the same, which is true for the initial salvation experience, but for second generation kids, raised in Christianity, nothing ever changes, and this is the kind of song that makes it stick out to them how much things are really the same, whether or not they are interested in church, or attentive in their high school gatherings. The more you sing about things changing and never being the same, yet live out sameness, the less real God can be to you. They must grow up to think that they were just lied to and pursue christianity only to the level that will please their parents, or just leave.

I am concerned for my own kids, how Fred and I can give them what they need to have a relationship with Christ. One that is real and true and can last them through the happy as well as the frustrating times; without them being raised in the same unique Christian environment we were raised in. I can see that it won't come from what we are experiencing now. Can we be their heroes?

My dad was one of my heroes. I could tell that whenever he needed to say something to my sisters or me that he would pray about it first. His words came from God to us. I think that many times he was instructed not to speak at all, so he just kept praying.

Anyways, Fred and I are preparing to lead our OAG (One Another Group, basically small group meeting) this week and I am picking some hymns from my old hymnal that are on the topic of trusting God. No problem, since there is a whole section on comfort in trials and trusting in God. I hope that we can be the heroes to those in our group and that we can be proper heroes for our kids.

Movie Weekend

We've been seeing movies!

We saw New Moon. How many husbands are there who are ready to take their wives to see New Moon??? Not so many, I have the best one. He thought it was a little long and whiny, but I liked it, about as much as the book, which was the slowest of them all and more of a necessary lead in to books three and four. There were about 15 of my students there yelling each time Jacob removed his shirt.

We saw North by Northwest and To Catch a Thief at the Stanford Theater. Very fun. I haven't seen either of them and it was so great to see them on the big screen as my first time. North by Northwest was especially suspenseful and well done.

Then today we saw The Blind Side. Wow. That was really heart warming, and a true story. During the credits there were pictures of the real family with Michael Oher. I loved Sandra Bullock's character. I aspire to be like that someday, strong and fighting for what I think is right, in spite of any obstacles.

Thanksgiving

We kept little kitty out of the bedroom last night to see how my nose and face would do. The poor soul meowed almost all night long. (Fred said, my head was under the pillow, but I did dream about cats and there was a lot of meowing going on.) I did wake up well and was able to go back to sleep after getting up around 6:30, which I couldn't do the day before because of the sneezing and blowing of the nose.

We had a lovely thanksgiving dinner this evening, friends from our church, who are on weight watchers. I am going to visit a meeting on Saturday to see what I think, of course I wouldn't officially join until after the baby is born. Who knows how long it will take to get pregnant, but you shouldn't diet while trying to get pregnant or the body will think that there is not enough food to go around. So I am enjoying the periodic small bowl of Haagen Daz.

I also tried a Skinny Cow treat tonight, a yummy ice cream sandwich. Wow. So good.

The couple have a daughter who is 10, and she and I talked for a long time at the end of the evening. I do so love talking to kids and they love being listened to, so it was fun. I do miss kids. So much. I keep praying for direction in what I should be doing now, we'll see. I was looking online for a job and there is basically only one and it is about 2 hours a way at a private school, which would mean that I would get paid much less than public school. Hmmmm.

Allergies

Ack, have been experiencing allergies for about 2 months now and have no idea where they are coming from. The pattern is that from the minute I wake up in the morning, my nose is draining clear fluid, actually dripping from my nose, and I am sneezing, big body temperature raising, loud sneezes. My whole face itches as well, on the inside. After a few hours my stuffy nose clears out and I am okay for the rest of the day, decidedly better outside the apartment than in, with a little periodic sneezing. Other days the allergies seem to go on all day and I feel exhausted by the sneezing.

Was talking to my friend Amy this morning, on a lovely walk around the Stanford Dish, what a great view of the bay and lots of houses and trees and buildings, and she said that she had allergies going on 4 months and when she went to see a respiration specialist, his first question was whether or not she had cats and whether or not they slept in the room with her. Then his advice was to not allow them in the room anymore and to use the nasal rinse stuff for a month and see how things became.

She found herself dramatically better.

How I hate to admit allergies to my dear little kitty, whom I love, with all of her "I don't really like you that much" ways.

When we are about to fall asleep kitty walks up on the bed and looks for the crook of my left arm and then first puts each of her feet chilly on my arm, and then, Fred says, like a truck making the back up beeping sound, backs her butt up into my face. I usually try to adjust her body so that her side is in my face instead of her butt, but usually wake up with her butt in my face.

COULD THIS BE THE PROBLEM???

Will try to ban her for a while and see if there is an improvement. Will feel immensely guilty and sad as her plaintive mewing self sits outside of the door. Alas.

4 days!!

4 days since I last wrote. AAAAAAAAAAhhhck!

Have I turned into a person who will say, "I tried the blogging thing, but didn't keep it up, oh well".

It has become sort of complicated, I don't know who's reading it, and do they expect that it is a journal or something else. Did I start it to be a journal? How come I never have something to write and also keep conveniently forgetting to write anything? Am I worried that it will be boring? Am I worried that I might begin to write a book and then have the idea stolen?

Welp, these may all be excuses, I am going to recommit to writing daily .

Hilarious episode of the Simpsons on Sunday. Marge was offering Oreo's and milk to her mommy and baby playgroup and the moms freaked out at the fat and corn syrup and cow cancer that she was trying to feed their children. Marge is told that until she can make more healthy foods, she is banned from the snack rotation! (Gasp.) You can imagine her distress. So she takes the family to Wellness Foods (Whole Foods) and they get lots of very healthy stuff for 790 dollars, and then when they scan the forgotten blueberries, it goes up to 830 dollars. (I can fully relate.) So, she prepares muffins for the playgroup, but when she says that she did not need to grease the pan because she used nonstick, they freaked out about that, and promptly hijacked an ambulance in front of the house to take them all to the hospital. (Marge can't take it anymore and finds Homer's forbidden snack drawer and they engorge themselves together.)

It made me think, how crazy have we become???

I was also reading the Skinny Bitch diet book, basically they get you to become a vegan in a matter of 50 pages. If I think that every food is evil except for vegetables, how can I eat enough to be healthy. Then I was looking at some advice books about how to eat when you are pregnant, and there is lots of milk and meat protein, and carbs in that diet. Way more than I eat right now.

So, I am trying not to become a crazy person. (Stay tuned to see whether or not I succeed in this!!)

Hmmm

Not so sure what to write about today. But here I am at the library and for some reason our internet access is not available at home, and I need to get out of here before 3:00 ish (ack I have 15 minutes!) because that is when my little middle schoolers get here.
A lot of my previous students come into the library after school and they tell me that they miss me and give me a hug and I ask them about math class and realize that I miss them too, middle schoolers in general, and then I feel sort of bad. Not really really bad, just sort of, because I think things worked out the way they did for a reason and I don't want to be teaching really.
There were so many things that frustrated me about teaching that would still be there if I were. And, I am enjoying my sleep in time, and seeing Fred in the mornings, and reading lots of books, and pursuing my interests, and thinking about writing, and trying to get pregnant. I am appreciating the whole lack of stress that is existing right now. But I do miss those kids, and being needed, and appreciated, and important.
I went into Peet's Coffee this morning to get a latte after dropping Fred off at work and before going to my Women's Bible Study. As I was in line, I saw a mother who is on the Mountain View Board of Education, who I had spoken to a few times in the past two years. She had told me how many positive things she had heard about me from other parents and teachers, always very nice. I waved to her and then noticed that she was sitting with the Superintendent. Akward! He waved with a hint of recognition as well. What do I say? I said nothing, and that was best, but what would have been the right thing to say? "Hi, obviously unemployed, thanks so much!" "Did you get a chance to read the really long letter I wrote to the district about my joyous year dealing with the principal you hired and chose to keep on?" I hope he did read it. It all makes me a little nervous feeling, heart beating faster, even though all of my ties to the district have been severed, I've been banned. What a hard year it was last year. I still am feeling mishandled, mistreated, misunderstood.

The biannual clothes switcheroo

I finally decided to change out my closet. I took out all of the t-shirts and summery skirts and traded them out, into the big blue Wal-Mart bin, for the winter sweaters and long sleeve T's.
Ah, the amount of dust or whatever I am allergic to in clothes sitting in a bin for 6 months was making me sneeze about 100 times an hour. My overall body heat rose and I had to open a window and change into a short sleeve shirt. My nose became bright red and is now chapped. Let alone the amount of stress when I am deciding which clothes should stick around and which should go to the Goodwill. Did the clothes going to the Goodwill mostly originate there anyways? Should I shop there less??? Should I take the time to pick out the still valuable clothes and take them to a consignment store to try to make a little back? There was that one time that I painstakingly washed and placed on hangers a ton of what Fred calls "teacher clothes" to take to a consignment store and they were all rejected! Rejected! Maybe I am scarred deep down from the cold hearted treatment of that fateful day. Or maybe I'm a little lazy.
I wonder how the percentage compares of clothes that I buy at a real store going to the Goodwill and clothes I purchased at the Goodwill going back. I wonder why giving clothes away makes me feel guilty? If I haven't worn it in a few years, it must not be that interseting to me and it should go. This I have learned from multiple home organizational shows.
Maybe someday I will have enough closet space to put all of my winter clothes, and summer clothes, and old clothes I feel guilty getting rid of all together. Ahhhhhhh.

Plot

The more I read about becoming a writer, the more I feel that it is an unattainable goal.

I am currently reading a book called "How to tell a Story". I give myself a week to read the book I am on, to have a goal, and that means 40 pages a day of this 200 page book. I walk to the library so that I am in a different location and can make myself just concentrate on reading. When I am at home I can watch TV or read for enjoyment, or exercise, but it is hard to concentrate on non-fiction at home. This is how I got through the last book, "Reading like a Writer", which was also excellent and scary at the same time.

You need a lot of discipline to be a writer and I'm not sure how much of that I have. I also sometimes procrastinate when writing my blog, and put it off, sometimes until the next day, does this mean I don't enjoy writing???? Maybe. Or I might be lazy overall!

I was praying this morning for some sort of inspiration of what to do with this inbetween time, between working and being a mom, when I have time. I like the daily exercising a lot and the pleasant walks, but I feel that there should/could be something more. So I asked the Lord to let me know what that might be.

I wanted to quote something from my current library book into my blog, just so I don't forget it:

Once upon a time, something happened to someone, and he decided that he would pursue a goal. So he devised a plan of action, and even though there were forces trying to stop him, he moved forward because there was a lot at stake. And just as things seemed as bad as they could get, he learned an important lesson, and when offered the prize he sought so strenuously, he had to decide whether or not to take it, and in making that decision he satisfied a need that had been created by something in his past.

This is the plot for 90% of the stories ever told.

I think over the years of my reading tons of books, I never really figured this out (although I was suspicious that something must be going on, I would get to the middle of a romance and then wonder what would draw them apart before they got back together and how would they each grow as a result of that). Maybe I need a writing class or something.

Fall Days

I was walking over to the library today, listening to the crunch of red leaves under my shoes (so glad that in this ideal climate there is some autumn for me to enjoy) and remembering a great fall day from my past.
It was my first date with Fred. We had been talking on the telephone for hours a few times each week, he in Columbus and me in Chicago. We had just finished high school and met over the summer at some church functions. He had asked me if he could write to me and I said not unless the intention was that we were going to get married, otherwise it would be a waste of time. (Crazy, hey) He said that was fine and so we started our 5 year long distance courtship.
I got lots of advice that we were too young (I was 18 and he was 17 when we met) that we would grow away from each other and should not be making this kind of a commitment at this age. That we would be different people when we were 25 than we were at 18.
My first visit to him was a day late in October, when fall was in full swing in Columbus Ohio. Back then a round trip ticket from Chicago to Columbus was $44 on AmericaWest Airlines. I got into Columbus at 9 am and was scheduled to leave at 9 pm. Fred picked me up in his red Nissan Pulsar NXSE (which I was so enamored by) and we drove to the Ohio State campus. We walked and held hands and talked as our feet crunched through the leaves and the scent of fall wafted up around us. I'm not sure where we ate that day, or what else happened, but as we were waiting in the top level of the parking garage for me to go back to Chicago, we decided that we would get married as soon as we finished college. A perfect fall day.

Exercise #10 - Inside a waiting room

Write a piece that takes place in a waiting room.

I wonder if life is not really a waiting room. Some waiting to see what they will appear as in a next life, a cockroach or a rich man. Some waiting for their planet with 21 virgins. Others waiting for their planet with their blond wives and myriad of children. Others waiting to see if they were good enough or holy enough to get to heaven. Others waiting to see if they were actually waiting for anything, or if they were supposed to be doing something other than waiting. Some, deciding that there is nothing to wait for, but pushing the waiting away and doing other things while they are here. Some, righteously waiting to enter the pearly gates and to see who doesn't make it. Others sacrificing their lives to give one more person the option of choosing salvation. Some waiting to get to see their lost relatives or famous historical people. Others waiting to ask God some important questions. Some waiting for butterflies, others for golf games. Others waiting to see if whatever is coming was worth the wait.

Exercise #9 - A House and a Scent

Back to the No Experience Necessary Writer's Course exercises.

Write a piece that contains a house and a scent.

I was a Realtor for about 2 years back in 2003-2004. It was an interesting change from being a teacher. I would sit at my desk and listen to the silence, appreciative that the bathroom was only a few steps away and available whenever I wished. Things now went according to my own schedule, I could come into the office if I wanted to, or not. I could go to the Realtor's house tour on Tuesdays if I wanted, or not.
All of this "or not" business helped out a lot when I was recovering from chemo, but I actually did not like all of the freedom. I was used to having to be at the school at a certain time with a room full of kids fully dependent on my being present and prepared. I was also used to starting at a specific time and ending at a specific time.
Not so as a realtor. I could start each day whenever, but if I wanted to make any money, I had to be very available. If I had a buyer interested in looking at homes, I had to be able to meet him during lunch to show the house, or during a weekend day or evening to show newly listed homes. If I did not make myself available, the house could sell and my buyer could miss out on that particular opportunity. If I had a house listed and another realtor brought a prospective buyer through and wanted to present an offer, I had to be available at the fax machine to get the offer, take it to my sellers and get a response, maybe within a day. What if I was about to eat dinner with the family, or go to an evening movie? If I got a call, whatever it was might have to be dropped.
Older, more experienced realtors have assistants or partners to help them manage their time and requirements, but a new realtor does not. I hated being at others' beck and call. I would hear my cell phone ring and have no idea what would await. Would a buyer have a question for me about a problem during an inspection? Wonder what would happen if the house were to burn down before they were contractual owners? Would it be a seller wondering why it was taking so long to sell her house? What type of advertising I was doing to move things along? When I would be planning an open house?
Open Houses in Columbus Ohio usually happened on Sunday from 2-4. So that I would not be alone at the open house, I had heard stories of realtors being lured into basements or upstairs rooms and being assaulted, I would usually bring my husband or mother along to keep me company.
After church my dear husband and I would stop at Chipotle or Baja Fresh or Skyline Chili and get a quick bite to eat on the way to the house. I would feel bad because his favorite time of the week was to have family dinner at his parent's house on Sunday afternoons and this week it would have to be forgone again. Then we would stop at some strategic corners near the house and place up the Open House signs. His idea was to put up some balloons on the signs, purchased from the dollar store.
We would open the house and I would stick a pie tin with a cinnamon stick and a little water, in the oven, and turn it to warm. As the cinnamon began to overpower the scent of either the inhabitants of the home or its musty emptyness, we would wait.

Decision

So, with much thought and weighing and internet searching of the differences between mastectomy and lumpectomy with radiation (which I had) and research of the complications of reconstruction, and all my pros and cons, I think I have decided.

This article, which is an interview with Susan Love, of Dr. Susan Love's Breast Book was particularly convincing:

http://health.discovery.com/centers/cancer/breast-cancer/mastectomy-lumpectomy.html

Basically the research shows that over 20 years, with research on thousands of women, the death rate is the same, whichever choice was made, mastectomy or lumpectomy with radiation. In light of this, there seems to be confusion as to why many doctors are still recommending mastectomies.

Yes, the recurrence in a breast that still exists is possible, but with the attention paid to the breasts after breast cancer, that will be found and dealt with before it could spread.

I decided to keep the girls and move on with my life, try to have babies as soon as possible!

Very relieved.

Pros and Cons

Fred and I went to a coffee shop and began to write down the pros and cons of the prospective double mastectomy and reconstruction. We also are going to go to the Breast Cancer Connections location in Palo Alto to the question and answer sessions of another oncologist and then surgeon and then plastic surgeon to get more questions answered.

So far, here are the pros and cons.

Pros:

There will be less than a 1 percent chance of ever getting breast cancer again, if I keep them, it is a 25-30 percent chance of a recurrence.

If I don't get it again, it cannot metastasize to another location. (we don't think it did from the 2004 cancer as there was no lymph node involvement)

Less recurrent yearly worrying at the mammogram, ultra sound times, no more biopsies.

Since pregnancy spikes estrogen, getting pregnant won't increase my chances of a recurrence without breasts.

Cons:

I have a 70% chance of not getting cancer again.

The mastectomy and reconstruction will hurt, probably much more than the regular yearly checking for breast cancer.

Because I've already had breast cancer, the likelihood that I will find it if it reoccurs is high, because my follow ups are thorough.

I can start now trying to get pregnant instead of recently after a big surgery, my body is pretty healthy now.

I can breast feed with my healthy breast.

There will be multiple potential replacements of the implants, they need to be closely monitored (they could deflate or leak) and every 10-20 years there will need to be updates of the surgery.

The length of surgery and recovery duration is at least 6 months, if the expanders and implants have no infections, and that is really the only kind of reconstruction I could get, not having lots of extra stomach fat.

The complications of the skin on the radiated right side is that it might not be as elastic and might not take to the expanders or implants well, plastic surgeons do not like radiated skin.

Because my cancer was a very rare, slow growing, not often metastasizing type (Mucinous), my prognosis may be better than other breast cancer survivor's.

Exercise #8 - Details

I have waited so long to get back to the "No Experience Necessary Writer's Course Book" because I thought this assignment would take too long, but I must be over that.

The best way I can do it is to split it up to about 5 minutes on each sense.

First:

Sights, Sounds, Smells and Tastes that Move me (the beginning of the assignment is to come up with some of these and to list them for about 20 minutes)

Starting with smells:

Fallen leaves in the fall on the Ohio State Campus.

California on a walk.

Fresh cut grass.

Baking chocolate chip cookies.

A crackling fire.

Old library books.

Icy nose-hair freezing, chin numbing winter days.

Fred's face.

My parent's house.

An old friend's choice of bath and body liquid hand soap.

Moving on to Sights:

Bright yellow and red leaves on fall tress.

A sunset on the ocean.

Photos of the landscape of Greece.

A perfect rose inviting my nose.

Lights intertwining the eaves of a gazebo.

Smiles on little children.

My old teddy bear.

Perfectly sharpened new pencils.

My old bedroom.

Now tastes:

Nestle Toll House Chocolate Chip Cookies.

Thanksgiving dinner, perfect bites.

Apple pie.

Chocolate Mousse Cheesecake.

Mom's Meat Loaf and mashed potatoes.

Hot Apple Cider.

Watermelon or Red Raspberry Bubble Yum.

Hot Chocolate with melting marshmellows.

A perfect diner cup of coffee.

A warmed cake donut from the school cafeteria.

Finally Sounds:

The chattering clattering background in a busy restaurant.

Talking all around me at a large family dinner.

Cricket and frog night sounds.

Keys mistaken for jangling dog tags.

The hum of the wings of a hummingbird in an instant of silence.

The lull in conversation.

The complete silence of the sleep of a strange room.

The spin of a washing machine.

Snoring.

Myself talking when I stop to listen.

Second:

Next part of the assignment is to take about 15 minutes just to let the mind wander and to write anything that moves me, whatever it is.

The danger of the empty mind being the devil's playground.

Feeling my stomach whine and being inexplicably angry that I have to think about diets, even though I'm not hungry or really denying myself.

How nice it is to take a little while to relax all of my facial muscles and to think of nothing.

The thought that it would be nice to take a nap and a bath at the same time and wondering if that would cause me to drown.

The uncertainty of whether or not I could be a good writer and how much struggle and time that would take.

The dynamics of leadership in our christian small group meeting.

Wishing I could be my small cat, how simple her life is, her biggest decision where to nap and who to sit on.

How torturous it is to try to let my mind wander for 15 minutes.

Third:

To use one of the above in whatever way, in a piece of writing.

An old friend's choice of bath and body liquid hand soap.

Fred and I had some friends a while back with whom we coordinated for our Friday night small group college meetings. These included the two of our families creating some sort of dinner and then creating an atmosphere, at either our apartment or their house, where college students felt welcome and we could have some kind of spiritual discussion, singing, bible reading or whatever. It was at the same time relaxed, as we were dealing with college students, who many times were at most interested in some free home cooking and time away from campus, and focused, as we were interested in helping them along in their spiritual lives whatever that would mean.

My friend and I would talk on the phone sometime early in the week and coordinate dinner. She had some specialties that we loved, her monkey bread, sausage bowtie pasta, milky way cake, homemade chicken and noodles, and overall delicious stick of butter type of foods. I usually would cling to an easier spaghetti, bread and salad standard. As we coordinated we would also confide in each other how our lives were going and sympathize and generally were friends. Although sometimes I wondered whether or not it was just proximity that created a friendship. Would we be friends if we didn't coordinate dinner and have our Friday nights together? If not, was there something superficial about the whole thing? Caring for each other by assignment?

When we had the meeting times at her house, she always had Bath and Body Works Cucumber Melon handsoap in her guest half bath on the lower level. I would use it and then take a deep breath as I smelled my hands, appreciating her lack of frugality in her soap choices.

A few years passed, our church went through a split among the members and her family stopped meeting with us. I got breast cancer and she called to let me know that she was thinking about me and as I tried to go a little deeper in the conversation she quickly small talked her way to ending the call. A few more years passed and it turns out that she has left her husband and family and pursued some of her other dreams, and I have no details other than what I've been told.

Cat

I think we found out what heritage our cat is.

We were watching CATS 101 on the animal planet and we saw a cat called the Egyptian Mau (Mau is egyptian for cat). It has green eyes, spotted fur (kitty's fur is not spotted), large ears, and moon shaped eyes, and a tuft of fur near the lower stomach that helps them stretch further and run really fast (which kitty does not get the opportunity to do as she is always in a one bedroom apartment), their body is small and their back legs longer than the front, socially they are not very comfortable around other animals or loud humans and are very aware of noises or movement, which help them not get hurt outside, but indoors make them very skittish and quick to get up and leave when they hear anything, they also have a M shape on their forehead and what looks like eyeliner around the eyes.

Kitty has all of these things, so she must be at least part Egyptian Mau. She is more striped than spotted but everything else fits so well and it is comforting that her craziness is not all our fault and our choice not to get another kitty because she would completely freak out is just because her kind does not like other animals, and when she runs away from any loud noises it is just because that is what she does. Because of her crazy Egyptian Mau genes!

We feel special to have figured her out a little.

Crappy Cancer

So I had a lovely (if you call lots of heartfelt tears lovely) time at the Breast Cancer Connection's Conference today. Interesting speeches and talks with other survivors. I thought a lot about my decision and during a session called "writing your way through cancer", this is what I wrote:

The questioning and wondering and pit of my stomach feeling as I consider the pros and cons of my potential upcoming double mastectomy and reconstruction. Purely for proactive reasons. Technically I'm fine now, right?

Whatever fine really is anyway.

How much do the percentages really mean? 25% - 35% chance of a recurrence over the course of my lifetime. I think about the same fatality rate though, double mastectomy versus the lumpectomy and radiated breast I already have because of the high surveillance that is in place.

How to weigh the pain, recovery, length of time for healing, putting off even longer of pregnancy versus the never ending train of MRIs, Mammograms, Ultra Sounds, painful biopsies and the never ending waiting for calls with results.

Why is the decision all mine?

Can't someone help me weigh?

It feels like a lot of responsibility.

Love CA

So much for trying to write every day, well, I am trying, but not as hard as before and it is becoming more like every other day when it is convenient and I have the time and I'm not tired because it is bedtime.

No word yet on the results of my biopsy on Tuesday.

Basically there are a few options. If it is not cancer, whew, schedule mastectomies in January and be relieved. If it is cancer and the same kind I had before, just move mastectomy up to now, but no chemo or lymph node stuff since it was already done and that was not an aggressive cancer needing chemo anyways. If it is cancer and not the kind I had before, but a crazy angry fast growing kind, move the mastectomy up to now and have chemo. But I do already have a wig thank goodness, and know what to expect and to ask for lots of drugs. Not fun though. But on pins and needles waiting for the call back which may be this afternoon or not until Monday.

I have been loving my 30 minute practically daily walks.

The fall and spring in California are my most most favorite times. It is currently fall, a beautifully long lasting fall. About 1/3 of the trees here change color, so there are splashes of yellow, orange and red, but here the leaves don't fall off very quickly because the weather is so mild, no quick frosts in the beginning of the season, or gusty winds. I get to enjoy them for a long time. Also, there are roses in all stages of bloom that I get to smell on my circuitous route of my neighborhood.

The spring is amazing. It starts in February (when most of the rest of the country is in the throes of a dismal rough winter) and the trees become knobby and start to bud. Annuals are also already coming out and the scene is becoming flowery. In February! It only gets better through March, April, May and then a slow progression into a mild summer.

The summer here only has a few smattered weeks of really hot weather, and it is made up for with the cooler nights when you can keep your fan running all night and then close up the shades in the day to keep the cool in.

It is a little unpredictable here though, even though there may be two days in a row (or 5-10) that all have almost identical highs and lows the actual feeling outside is very different day to day. It can feel really cold one day and then much warmer the next even though technically the weather is the same.

You also have to layer here, what is right for the early morning and later evening is never the same as what is right for the middle of the day.

My favorite favorite place I've ever lived! Hope to stay here a long time, but even if I don't and kids come and plans change and we move back to a midwesterly place, I am enjoying it now.

Biopsy (Ouch)

So, yesterday I had the suspicious area that my cancer doctor found in June biopsied.

It was a core needle biopsy, which is more conclusive than a fine needle biopsy because it takes out more flesh for the pathology department to pathologize.

Fred and I went to the drugstore to get a Valium and I took it about 40 minutes before the biopsy was to take place, we also stopped at Marshalls to pick up a lavender eye pillow to wear so I would not have to look at the huge needle entering my boob.

I laid on the table and Fred waited in the waiting room (the surgeon said that a husband once, holding his wife's hand fainted while watching a procedure and Fred is not fond of needles). My eye pillow firmly over my eyes and my hand clasping that of a lovely nurse named Katie, I waited skittishly (not sure if the Valium was working) for the numbing needle. It came with a pinch and a growing burning sensation. The surgeon asked if I could feel a pin prick and I could, so she added more lidocaine to the area. Then she nipped a piece of skin off and pushed the large needle into the supposedly numbed area. I heard a staple gun sound and did not have too much pain. That is the noise it makes when they clamp out a bit of your flesh. The second time (I thought there would only be one time, alas) it hurt and I hunched my shoulders up and said "ouch" loudly and wondered aloud if this would be the last time.

(This seems to be the time that all of the niceness leaves the surgeons and they begin to hard talk to you about whether or not we want this all to happen again or if they can just finish. I know because it happened yesterday and the last time I got traumatically biopsied in 2004, when I wanted them to stop too, but even more did not want it to happen again.)

It was not the last time, the third time did not hurt but the fourth time did. A lot. Imagine an insect inside of your flesh taking a big bite out of the inside of your very sensitive nipple. That is what it felt like. I was crying by then and felt all sweaty. Fred came in and comforted me and then I got dressed and left.

The surgeon said that her patients said that they thought the biopsy was more painful than surgery. I think that is only because you are awake for the biopsy and know what is happening and can feel pain. The after part was fine. Of course I am not touching the area at all, but I am not feeling anything. I took a few advil yesterday just in anticipation, but don't think I needed it. I think the surgeon just wants me to get surgery and that is why she said that. I am suspicious of her motives.

I am looking for a good surgeon and plastic surgeon and getting names from people, I don't want to question the motives or the skills of the person who will actually do the double mastectomy in January as I do the one I saw yesterday.

I was reading on a breast cancer discussion site about what the expander situation is like. It sounds pretty painful for many, so am a little nervous.

I should know the results of the biopsy by Friday or Monday at the latest.

Brainsmush

I decided to challenge myself a little during these days when I am in full control of my time and sometimes don't make the best choices for myself.
I started a book called "Reading like a Writer" and decided to read the book in a week, that would come out to 55 pages a day, not too hard, I thought I read about a page a minute. After 40 pages and what turned out to be an hour I decided that it would have to be maybe a two week read and that my brain was so smushy that I could barely write anything in my blog, which I have to do at the library because our laptop is with Fred at work.
I was also trying to get all of this done before 3 so that I wouldn't inadvertently bump into any of my former students at the ever popular local library that they all frequent right after school. It must have been a half day at school though because there have been little ones and medium ones around since I got here and I did see one student. It went well, she said hi.
The book is really good, the author loved reading as a child and all of the way through schooling, masters and PhD and has written a lot, but I am a little intimidated by it.
How to master the wonderful sentence? I am not over wanting the process of writing to be quick and easy and to roll off of my fingers and out of my brain perfect and needing no work. It doesn't seem like that is how writing is at all. So much thought needs to go into every word and reading needs to be word by word to appreciate the author's thought process. Are my thoughts that deep, can they be? Do I want to spend so much time on each word, is writing tedious? Obviously this blog is not because I just write as fast as I can type and then barely re-read what I've written and just hit "publish post" with barely a glance at the "save now" option. Why would I save without publishing, do I need to think about what I am writing??
So, I don't yet. But I'd love to become great and have readers respond with awe as they read my work.
Having the biopsy tomorrow, chose the core needle biopsy, the more traumatizing of the ones offered but the most conclusive just short of an excisional biopsy. All of the doctors think that it is nothing and even look confused that I want to pursue anything since the MRI and the Mammogram and the UltraSound all have shown no cause for concern. We'll see.