Livin'

I can't remember the exact phrase but in one of my favorite movies, Dazed and Confused, the character Wooderson, talks about how he is just living, "livin." While this movie is almost 20 years old (ack!!), I still enjoy quoting it from time to time. Actually, truth be told, I probably quote it on a semi-daily basis.

Today is the Saturday of Memorial Day Weekend - the official kick-off weekend of the summer season. My plan is for this summer to be my official summer of livin'. I just want to have fun and enjoy myself. For the past two years I have been bogged down with cancer, my treatments, my recovery, my surgeries, the side effects, the emotional breakdowns, and I'm done. I just want to move on and what better way than to focus on having fun. Brandon and I even started our summer a little early. First by going to Belgium and the Netherlands for a week at the end of April/early May. And then by taking a random vacation day earlier this week to visit Cedar Point (the best roller coaster amusement park in the country!).

So what do I have planned for my summer of fun? Let's see...

• When in town for a full week, I will work longer days Monday-Thursday so I can schedule Friday afternoons off.
  
• On these Friday afternoons, I will do something fun including kayaking, going to the movies, drinking sparkling wine in the back yard, or going for a long bike ride.
  
• Maintain a kickass vegetable garden. Try to get the rest of the yard under control and be relatively attractive.
  
• Travel to Hilton Head for Brandon's cousin's wedding, and spend a couple of extra days in Savannah.
  
• Leave a few days early for my annual library conference to spend time with my mother and grandmother. My mother and I are planning to spend one of those days at Rehoboth Beach, one of my favorite places in the world and I haven't been since before all the cancer stuff started.
  
• Spend a weekend on a pontoon boat and camping with friends in southern Indiana.
  
• Try new and different restaurants in Columbus (so maybe I'll stop complaining about how boring I think this city can be).
  

That is my list so far, and I'm sure that I am forgetting something. Please let me know if you have any suggestions for activities I can add to this list. We still haven't decided what to do for Birthday week (Brandon's birthday is 7/14 and mine is 7/19). A few years ago we went to Albuquerque, and last year we went to Toronto. Some years, we stay home and try to do something different each night (mini golf, go out for ice cream, watch a movie,...). And Nanette and Chris are planning a visit out here for a couple of days during the week after my birthday. So more activities are sure to be scheduled for this awesome summer of livin'.

P.S. I still need to have one more surgery this summer which will put a slight damper on all the fun to be had. Hopefully the date for this surgery will be chosen on Tuesday.

P.P.S. And I'm going to try to be better about writing the blog. It helps with my emotional and mental healing, but sometimes I'm just not in the mood to write.

Surgery Follow-Up

Brandon and I traveled to Cleveland yesterday for my post-surgical follow-up visit. Scars are looking good. Magic Fingers is preparing for a presentation and asked if I would allow him to use photos of me, to which I agreed. So I got to have a photo session of my new torso. Otherwise, it was a fairly routine visit. While having the tape scrapped of me, we did chat about Belgium -- turns out Magic Fingers is a big fan, so he gave us some recommendations for our upcoming trip.

In regards to recovering, my energy levels are increasing. On Sunday, when Brandon and I went to Target to get me some spanx-like undergarments (which I will need to wear for about a month to help keep my abdomen in place), he was concerned that I wouldn't be able to walk the entire length of the box store. So he suggested I get one of the motorized carts. What a bizarre experience. Other customers pretty much did their best to not look at me, or avoid me at all cost. The cart did move a bit faster than I would have guessed, so that was pretty cool. But yesterday, I was able to walk around a mall and eat a really high caloric Mrs. Field's cookie. No more motorized carts for me.

I'm sorry this entry is kind of lame. I'm really sleepy but it is too late in the afternoon for me to take a nap. The neighborhood was a buzz with activity this afternoon so I couldn't calm down enough to rest when a nap would have been appropriate. The former neighbor that drives around town on a riding mower recently returned, and he kept revving his ride off and on during prime napping time. The teenagers up the street discovered whistles, so I kept hearing a constant bleet followed by peels of laughter. And someone, somewhere nearby was hammering all afternoon. I think I might go to bed really early tonight. Oh if only my 25-year old self could see me now.

No Tubes!

Earlier this week, I underwent the first of what will probably be two follow-up surgeries to the DIEP procedure that I had in October. The procedure was outpatient. My arrival time was scheduled at 10am. Since I get anxious before any surgery, and am not allowed to eat or drink anything after midnight the night before, I felt it best if Brandon and I spent the night near the surgical facility (we live about 1.5 hours away so not being able to even drink water would have made really cranky). Thanks to Priceline, I was able to secure a room for $39 at the hotel closest to the surgical facility. After work, on Monday evening, we headed up north on I-71, checked into the hotel, ate some dinner, wandered around the local mall, and watched some Olympic Ice Dancing on tv.

The next morning, at 10am, I checked in for surgery. Luckily the insurance issues seemed to have been sorted out. The nurses dressed me in a surgical gown, hat, and footies (I did get to keep my penguin socks on underneath the footies). The IV was inserted with no problem. Brandon was then allowed back in pre-op area to sit with me while I waited. And then we waited. My doctor didn't finish the prior patient until almost 2pm. When Magic Fingers did stop by, he was apologetic and said there were no surgeries scheduled after me, so all of his attention could be focused on me. He then grabbed his trusty purple marker and proceeded to draw all over my torso to mark the areas where he planned to work. Brandon said, when the doctor was finished, that my chest and stomach resembled a jack o' lantern.

After the surgeon completed making his markings, the nurses came back, injected some sedatives to my IV, I kissed Brandon, and was out cold. The last thing I remember was lying on my bed and being rolled out of the room where I had been waiting. And then I woke up on the other side (of the room).

The surgical wing was practically empty. Almost everyone had left for the day. Even most of the lights were turned off. Kind of creepy. And none of the remaining nursing staff could answer many of our questions. I simply ate my Lorna Doones, drank some ginger ale, and was ready to go home. My recommendations for anyone having outpatient surgery: Don't be the last patient of the day.

Thankfully, my body seems to be doing ok. I'm sore. I have difficulty bending and picking myself up off the couch or bed. But I don't have any tubes, and having no tubes is a very good place to be.

Yarn Shopping

Yesterday, Brandon and I drove to the town of Wooster for a Saturday afternoon get-away. Wooster is a lovely town about an hour north of where we live, with cute shops and a few organic/local food-themed restaurants. A delightful vineyard is on the town’s outskirts, so we even stopped for a glass of wine on our way into town. Our destinations in Wooster were a yarn store, a music equipment store, and a bakery/restaurant for dinner. Because we got to town soon before closing time for the yarn and music stores, Brandon and I went our separate ways to visit our respective shopping destinations.

My store of choice was the yarn store. As I wandered among the colorful yarns of varying textures, I couldn’t help but overhear different conversations. The owner of the store seemed to be cultivating an environment where one felt comfortable to discuss any and all topics.

The first conversation I overheard was between the store owner and a woman about my age, maybe a little older. The customer was looking at patterns for infants. She had recently been through the adoption vetting process, and had been approved. Now all she had to do was wait, and make plans to knit a “welcome home” gift for the baby. Since all conversations about babies and adoption make me a little teary, I became misty eyed as I listened to the two ladies chat.

The second overhead conversation was between two ladies as they knit the world’s largest sock (an ongoing project at the store). Their discussion was about family, ailments, hospitals, and psychology. One of the women chose the moment I was standing near the table to reveal her cancer history. She had been diagnosed with breast cancer at 36 or 37 (she looked now to be in her 60s or early 70s). At some point many years ago, she had surgery to remove her ovaries. About two years ago, she was diagnosed with ovarian cancer. Her story yesterday afternoon was about the experience of learning that one’s cancer has metastasized and the treatments that followed the new diagnosis. If you have ever been diagnosed with cancer, the fear of learning that your cancer has spread or returned is a nightmare that haunts all visits to the doctor. I could barely contain my sad emotions as I overheard this one woman’s very personal story.

I quickly chose 2 skeins of sparkly blue/gray Borocco yarn, paid for the yarn, and scurried out of the store when I began sobbing. With nowhere to hide, I spotted a nook in the front of nearby bank. I tried to stop crying, and the cold cement seat in the nook helped a bit. Since I have decided to not take anti-depressants, I do need to get better control of my emotions. Luckily Brandon soon wrapped up his shopping and was able to console me. We then went to eat our delicious dinner. I had a goat cheese and spinach salad with crab chowder. Brandon had a goat cheese and sausage pizza. For dessert, Brandon chose bananas foster and I had a Belgian chocolate crème. It was a day that deserved a dessert finale.

FYI OMG

Earlier this week, I learned about the OMG! Cancer Summit for Young Adults. The 3rd annual conference will be held on May 23, 2010 in New York on the campus of Pace University. The event sounds like a wonderful opportunity to meet other young people who share similar cancer-related concerns. The day-long event will offer networking opportunities and host different panel discussions. Panel topics of high interest to me are on fertility issues and living life after cancer, but also listed on the agenda are conversations on employment/insurance, sex & relationships, and social media advocacy. Well known names in the young person's cancer world, including Kairol Rosenthal, author of Everything Changes: The Insider's Guide to Cancer in Your 20s and 30s and Matthew Zachary, founder of I'm Too Young For This!, are highlighted as panel participants, I don't know if I will be able to attend, but I am most definitely considering it.

To learn more about OMG! 2010 go to http://omgsummit.org/2010/index.html. Registration begins on April 5.

Hair Again

Last weekend I traveled to Boston for a librarian conference. It was my first trip since my surgery in October (we didn't travel anywhere for the holidays because of a multi-week bout of bronchitis). My energy levels were surprisingly high, although on my return home, I basically collapsed and spent several days recovering from exhaustion. The conference was a wonderful opportunity to see close friends and professional colleagues from around the country, and to be in a large city.

Since Brandon and I didn't travel for the holidays, for the past couple of months, basically the only people we've seen are coworkers and my team of medical professionals. Since I hadn't seen many people in a long time (rural Ohio is shockingly not high on many people's destination lists), the conference was the big debut of my new curly hair. My hair is curly. Every day it gets curlier and curlier.

Now I don't want to sound rude or unpleasant, but it really difficult for me to accept compliments on my hair. I hear that it looks good, but it really hard for me to politely respond to compliments on a hair style that I didn't want. For those who don't know, curls are a side effect of chemo. How would you like a daily reminder of a horrible time period of your life? And then for people to compliment you on it?

I know that most people don't know curly hair is a side effect of chemo. I can say thank you to your compliments, but don't push me to explain why. My anger and sadness at the cancer diagnosis are still simmering just below the surface, and if you pester me to tell you why my hair is curly, I may just go ape shit on you. Don't say I didn't warn you. I see your face when you pester me for a further explanation, and I say that it is a side effect of chemo. You didn't want to hear that did you?

As my hair continues to curl, I've mulled over an appropriate response to queries, seeking an answer which says says I didn't ask for this style and stop asking me about it. While in Boston, an answer came to me, "I call it my $100,000 perm." Ha!