Another Thanksgiving dinner that couldn't be beat...

I agreed to go to Mom's for Thanksgiving dinner because both of my sisters insisted I go. I agreed to go after Jean said that if I took the train to Forest Park, she would pick me up and drive me to Mom's just in time for dinner and then we could leave as soon as we were finished eating. The idea was that, because I cannot stand the smell of cooking, arriving just in time to eat would solve that. Because I really have been very tired lately, I could leave as soon as we were finished eating to get home and hit the bed by my now usual 8:30-9:00ish time. Democrats do not go into a hostile zone without an exit strategy, and that was the plan.

My day started at 0600 when the alarm went off. Apparently I had forgotten to turn it off the night before. After figuring out I did not have to go to work, I rolled back over and went back to sleep. I was awoken around 8:00 by a wrong number. Someones mother was calling at the butt crack of dawn to wish them a Happy Thanksgiving and my number was only one digit off. Lucky me. I woke up feeling like crap. My body still hurts from tensing up in the MRI (that experience still haunts me too much to write about it) and I was nauseous as all hell. So, I spent my morning putting up some Christmas stuff and fighting off nausea and dizziness. I thought about backing out from the plan, but told myself I really just wanted a good home cooked meal. The thought of possible leftovers motivated me as well.

As a bonus, I got to talk to Michael on yahoo all morning to discuss the upcoming move. We also got a chance to chat about what they did for Thanksgiving. Apparently, the boys visited their friends houses and timed it to show up right after everyone ate. By doing so, they got "leftovers" and did not impose on their friends' families in the middle of dinner. They apparently hit 3 homes and were very well fed. Michael had no clue what their dad did for the day. Michael was spending the night at a friends and had no further clue where Ian was or what he was up to. Happy freaking Thanksgiving! Before you start into the excuse of, "But they are living in Japan...", keep in mind that they live on a US military base. Apparently everyone else on the base was eating turkey, just not my ex.

Harking back to the plan, there was then the reality. Based on my experience with taking the Red then Blue lines to Maywood, I always allow for 2 hours travel time. I figured the trains would be moving faster based on low volume use, but that they would be coming less often due to holiday schedule. So, in the spirit of compromise, I left the house about 3:20 thinking I would get there around 4:45ish. As we all know, the best laid plans.....

At around 4:15 I sent Jean a text (she never answers her phone) saying I was about 15-20 minutes away from the Forest Park stop. We had agreed to keep in touch because I was taking the train out and allegedly, she was only 3 minutes from the station. When I arrived at the station at 4:30, I immediately called (again, she never answers her phone) because I was now a half hour early. It wasn't that I would mind waiting, but if she was really only 3 minutes away, I figured someone could swing by, pick me up, and we could leave from Mark's relatives house whenever she wanted to go.

I wound up standing outside the station because some drunk homeless guy with his pants around his knees (not making this up) kept trying to touch me. I will say that he kept trying to pull his pants up, but he was not very successful. While normally this shit doesn't bother me, if you read the earlier part about waking up feeling like crap, you would understand I was just in no mood for this. Apparently he was unwilling to go outside so I was safe outside. Did I mention I was the only white person there and this is not a great place to hang out? When she finally sent a text at 5:00 telling me that they were going to take family pictures and then come and get me, it hit me like a ton of bricks that I would be spending another 15-20 minutes out in the cold. I just couldn't take it so I turned around and went back inside and went home.

I went to the Anvil, had a few glasses of wine, and then went home and had cheese and crackers for dinner before finally turning in around 8:30.

Jean did send a text a short while later saying she was glad to give me an excuse to bail. She missed the point. IF I really wanted to bail, I would have called her (or rather texted her, she never answers her phone) and told her the truth that I was tired, nauseous and dizzy and just stayed home. I did not go all the way out to Forest Park to bail, I went out to get a ride to Mom's for a great Thanksgiving day feast that couldn't be beat (and leftovers).

Christmas presence

Christmas presence being unobtainable, I was asked what else I wanted for Christmas.
A very good friend, who shall remain nameless, threatened the largest white elephant they could find if I could not come up with something. After careful thought, there is nothing I want (aside from my kids home where they belong), but I suppose there are a few things I could use.

1) Pre-paid weeks of Seattle Suttons or Nutrisystem while I recover so there is no real cooking or prepping involved and I will be far more likely to eat well balanced meals while undergoing radiation or chemo. My sister Jean, who is listed as a follower of the blog, will be THRILLED to co-ordinate the weeks so I don't get 2 weeks paid for in same week....LOL

2) Gift cards for Lane Bryant so that when the girls are reduced, I can run out and buy pretty new bras that are actually available in real stores and which might actually fit.

Not having to bake this year is my little gift to myself.

The definition of stupidity

My only comment today is, did he really think that poking the sick mamma bear with a sharp stick while taking her cubs would have a happy ending? REALLY?

Job is up and running next week, surgery is scheduled for Thursday, Dec. 4, and I should hopefully be back to work by Monday, Dec. 7. Once the job is back up and running it should be ok. I just have wayyyyyyyyyyy too much time on my hands these days.

Oops he did it again.....

In speaking to the boys last night, it was casually mentioned that their dad had made plans to have the boys move to Texas in January to live with their step mom while he did a year in Guantanamo Bay, Cuba. It was also mentioned that he had no intention of trying to get them to Chicago at all.

Even when I was married to him, I was never made a part of any of Cliff's plans. I found out he had taken orders to Norfolk when the Navy movers called to arrange to pick up his stuff. Once we were divorced, it was none of my business where he took orders to or what he did, he was someone else' problem, UNTIL, he took the boys to live with him. It is not that he once again made plans without consulting me, it is that he made plans for my children without even considering my feelings, desires or possible objections, let alone even think about making me a part of the conversation.

He is sending these boys to be raised by a woman I have NEVER EVEN MET and NEVER EVEN SPOKEN TO ON THE PHONE!!!! They are my children and I would NEVER agree to pawn them off on anyone else. Cliff's response to my email was to say that it was all about what the boys wanted that mattered. I wouldn't know, WE never discussed anything, THEY made all the plans. I was completely cut out of the loop on this one AGAIN!

I know the boys are reading the blog and it is not my intention to make them feel bad. What I hope to make them understand is that if this was what they wanted they should have had the common courtesy to discuss this with me. If they are old enough to decide where they want to live, they are old enough to discuss this with their own mother. I am sure the fact that he bought Ian a car has nothing to do with his decision to live in Texas. I am also sure that the fact that Michael has a large bedroom of his own and a huge backyard has nothing to do with his decision to move to Texas either. I had hoped they would learn from their father that it was NOT ok
to hide things and to make major life decisions that involve others without even discussing it with those who it affects. I had hoped that I had done a better job of raising my sons.

My Life on Hold.......Again (An Update)

Today is Friday, Nov. 21, 2008. So far this week, I have worked 6 hours total. That means my "paycheck" may pay one bill. My roommate has offered to help with the utilities (cats and candles do not mix), and while that is a nice thought, I had to explain that it was not the point. At 46, it sucks to be wondering if I am going to be needing help with the bills. One of the reasons I don't go out is because I don't want my friends thinking they have to buy the next round because I can't afford to pay for myself. My motto is, if you can't afford to buy your own, stay home! God forbid my mother is proven correct and I become an unfair financial burden on my family. I have been accused of obsessing about the money, but the truth is that my other choice is to obsess about the cancer. To worry about money is socially acceptable, like alcohol is a legal drug.

What we do know is that the surgery is scheduled for Dec. 4 at Loyola Hospital. The good news is that this is a Thursday so I have a 4 day weekend to recover. The bad news is that if we are back at work, I will miss 2 days of work and not one. I had a phone call yesterday about another possible job. The down side is that it pays less, and requires 50 hours a week of work. The upside is that this job, if it goes, appears to promise me an actual paycheck for the next 2-3 weeks. I did not mention the fact I might be scheduled for surgery, as it is better to ask forgiveness then seek permission............right??

Dating (or a very heavy sigh)

A guy that I have talked to online for over a year now and who I have dated twice now, asked me out again this week. He and I have not spoken for a while because first the boys were in town, he was studying for the bar exam and then I was kinda busy. Anyhow, he asked me out. I specifically asked him if meeting for dinner was supposed to be a date or as friends and he specifically stated he hoped it was a date.

NOOOOOOOOOO!!!!......how can I even think about dating? I would love to have someone in my life but this is NOT the time in my life where I am ready to start anything......and hell, if the guys I dated before didn't stick around when I HAD tits, can't imagine them flocking this way now.........LOL

Not working again today........OMG THE STUDENT LOANS

As much as I enjoy the excuse for some downtime, my not working is not paying the bills or the rent any faster. I did manage to convince the cell phone company that the check was really in the mail (I SWEAR I dropped it in the mailbox on my way to work) and they promised not to shut me off.

I knew we wouldn't be working on Tuesday of this week, but I did not find out I was off again today until I was at the Belmont stop. I used it as an excuse to take myself out for breakfast, where I had about 5 bites of food and it only set me back $12 plus tip.

I make too much to qualify for an economic hardship deferment, I am "working" so I don't qualify for unemployment (which is fine because I used up my benefits anyways), and I am not working enough to pay the rent. The student loans start up again December 9, less then a week after surgery. At least thank God the boys are taken care of and I am no longer worrying about where the next meal might come from (I am so nauseous I can't eat and the fridge and freezer are full of food). I am sure things will work out but I am more worried about finances then I am about beating breast cancer, how much does that suck?!?

The boys know.....

I was woken up by a phone call from the boys at 6:00 am this morning. The boys told me that their dad said they had to call because thier mom had something important to tell them. For those that know and love me, or know me and don't like me, you will know that I am NOT a morning person. I seem to recall I told them that the good news was I stopped smoking but the bad news was I had breast cancer. I assured them I was not dying any time soon and that my hope was to see them for Christmas. I may have mentioned having their dad ask Navy Relief about tickets, but I am not really sure what I said. That said, they now know and I will show them the link to the blog.

Where is my BAILOUT??

What follows is the nasty gram I just sent to my congresswoman and my senator. They are bailing out rich white men, where is my share??

As we rally around the big banks and the auto industry to save them from financial ruin, I would like to remind those in office about the little people who have student loans because their parents could not afford to give them a free ticket to college.

I am 46, served in the US Navy, am a disabled vet, I owe $120k in student loans for my undergrad, law and MBA degrees, and have not been able to find a "real" job because I am overeducated and under experienced. I am currently working as a temporary attorney and the money is good, when I am working. I have not had a "real job" in years and the unemployment checks keep my head above water between jobs. I was a working single mother for years and was unable to pursue the kind of career that would have made me financially stable at the risk of ignoring the kids. I took pride that I was able to keep them happy, well fed, out of trouble and in good standing at school.

I was just diagnosed with breast cancer. I am blessed in that the VA will cover my care. However, because I still have a temp gig, I am not technically unemployed, and therefore, do not qualify for an unemployment deferment. Therefore, I will be trying to make $750 a month in student loan payments by working when I can, between bouts of surgery and chemo or radiation therapy.

The part that is the most painful is that when the boys first left to live with their father, who is still on active duty in the Navy and stationed in Japan, I tried to join the Peace Corps. One of the biggest bonuses with the Peace Corps is that they pay up to 33% of your student loan debt. I was told I could not join as I had to sit at home and wait for my boys to change their minds and decide to move home. I wish I could have made that up.

So now, I am faced with $120k in student loans, I don't have a "real job" and I have no health insurance, aside from coverage through the VA, no money in the bank and breast cancer. Where is my bailout??

The "Decision"

Many people were shocked, appalled, furious, intrigued, angry, etc., that I would even have considered NOT fighting this. My point all along was that until we know what "this" was, I was too tired to consider fighting the monster under the bed. IF this had been much worse then it actually is, my choice would have been to not fight it. However, because it appears to be less horrible then I thought, fighting it is not going to be the huge uphill battle it could have been. AND, I will get the much wanted reduction out of this as part of my reconstructive therapy.So, I am feeling much better now that I am back on the allergy meds and the vitamins. Apparently, now was not a good time to stop taking those....LOL

I have stopped smoking completely and although there are the unconscious thoughts of "I want a smoke", my body really seems to be turned off to the idea. I am going to carefully watch what I eat and try to lose the recommended weight before the reconstruction surgery. I would love to have a treadmill in the house but I have NO CLUE where I would put it.......unless the buffet disappeared???? Just a thought.

The nausea seems to have died down but I am still hypersensitive to smells. We shall see how it goes.

Apparently, I am not dying

It appears that it is Stage 1, but they won't know exactly until they get in there and start cutting. They will biopsy one lymph node and then proceed from there. They do not think it is so invasive that they will be required to do a radical mastectomy, and assure me my boobs will look pretty much the same when they are done. I actually stated loudly, "WHAT?? I thought there would be a reduction as part of this whole thing." Apparently they have made such great strides they can preserve most of the breast tissue and then have me undergo radiation or chemo. I was not happy to hear that a reduction was not automatically part of the procedure.....LOL

So, after being told that the lumpectomy would be scheduled for Dec. 3 or 4 (what with next week being Thanksgiving and the fact I actually wanted to talk to the oncologist and the radiologist before having any of that done) means surgery in another 2.5 weeks. The surgeon did refer me to the plastic surgeon, who agreed that a 38GG was a bit much and that therefore, he would have no problem doing the reduction after the lumpectomy had healed. He reminded me that men liked really big breasts. I stated that there were times when too much of a good thing was just too much. After all, while a 24" penis might sound good in theory, that was simply too much. He laughed and agreed that he saw my point. When the reduction tissues healed, they would then do radiation or chemo.

Timeline = Surgery for lumpectomy on Dec. 3 or 4.
Reduction surgery 3 weeks after that.
Radiation or chemo 6 weeks after the reduction.

November 15, 2008 (V Day)

I once likened the waiting for results to being like a death penalty defendant and the jury was out. At least the defendant had likely done something worth the death penalty, but I had only ever THOUGHT about killing Cliff........LOL

It has only been about 45 days since the phone call, but it still sucks to wait around. Tomorrow, for better or for worse, my life changes forever. I will no longer be "Just Catie", I will likely become, "a breast cancer survivor." We shall see. Don't call us, we'll call you, or rather, we will blog it. I am convinced Miss Kitty is watching me so she can post a "HELP ME" blog of her own......LOL

What does having breast cancer feel like?

Shortly before I went in for my surgical consult, my friend Holly insisted I make a list of all the "symptoms" and issues I was having with my body. By having all of the information, the doctors would be better able to provide a diagnosis and provide better care. Some of the "symptoms" were not necessarily signs of breast cancer, but things I noted were "wrong" with my body. It didn't dawn on me that anyone else might have wondered how it actually felt to "have cancer" until someone actually asked me point blank what it felt like to have breast cancer. So, this is a list of my "signs/symptoms" and in no way reflects the actual signs or symptoms of breast cancer. In making the list, it was interesting to note that a great deal of my "symptoms" were present long before I was told that I had a bad lump in my left breast. That said, this is the list, for what it is worth.

I have had difficulty breathing for the last 3 months. I blame the doctor who took me off my allergy meds as he had previously told me I showed signs of allergy induced asthma.

Nausea. This has been going on the longest. I actually accused my roommate of "making the house reek of chocolate" when she baked cupcakes. This actually scared the piss out of me. I lost almost all interest in food for the past 4 months and nothing tastes that good. I eat what I can, when I can and it tends to be high carb comfort foods.

Issues with bowel movements. Apparently that started about the time I was notified. I either don't poop at all for days or it is golf balls and peas. (SORRY TMI!)

Dizziness. This has been going on a month longer then the phone call. When I stand up I get dizzy. I have attributed this to allergies, clogged ears and vertigo type symptoms.

Extreme fatigue. This has been going on the longest, or for 6 months. I would liken it to when I had mono. It is a feeling like you are swimming underwater and not getting anywhere. I am in bed most nights by 8:30 and although I am awake at 6:00, I am tired within minutes of waking up.

Gas/Belching. This has been going on for the same 2 months as the dizziness. I don't know that they are related, but it started before the phone call. I belch constantly and rather loudly. Most of the straight guys I know are actually rather impressed.

For the last 4 months I have had a great deal of trouble sleeping. This is pre-phone call and I blame stress and the fact I do not have a "real job".

Menstrual cramps and severe bleeding. This has been going on for a year and it reminds me of when I was in high school and used to have to take a day off school every month because I could not move without pain. I am throwing clots that are the size of a quarter and will bleed for up to 11 days. The doctors are concerned, and have ruled out uterus cancer, but have not decided what to do about this. This entire whoha issue has been shuffled to the back burner but will have to be addressed on V day.

Breast Cancer "To Do" List

When I received the call, it was early in the morning. So, at about 8:30am ish on or about October 1, 2008, Loyola hospital called me to tell me that they had found lumps in my mammogram and I was being recalled for a new set of images. I gave myself the day to cry, grieve, sulk and lay in bed. After that, it is what it is and I had to starting dealing with the big, giant what if's. One thing that became very clear from the beginning was that no matter how tired my body was, the minute I closed my eyes, the running dialogue of all the things I had to do started in my head. When I was actually awake, I could ignore it, but laying in bed at night, not a chance. So, here is a snapshot of the ongoing "to do" list my mind just keeps adding to.

1. OMG! Panic, freak out, cry, sulk, become a vegetable in bed for the day.
2. Decide who to tell and what to tell. Is there anything to tell at this point? Do I wait until the second series of tests? Because I have done this before should I do it alone again? What is that nagging feeling in the pit of my stomach that this time it is not a drill?
3. Start by getting the forms together. Living Will, Power of Attorney, Medical Power of Attorney, Will, etc. I am a lawyer, of course I thought about doing the legal paperwork...LOL
4. Realize you have too much shit in your life and start mentally downsizing. The buffet! What am I doing still owning that damned buffet? Do I tell my family about the cancer issue in an email announcing the first to come and get the buffet keeps the buffet?
5. My closets all need to be cleaned out. My dressers, don't even get me started. In what crack induced haze did I ever think I would be a size 12 again? The only time I was ever a size 12 was the 6 months of my life I had anorexic like behaviour.
6. The back porch is full of stuff in "storage" that I just don't need. I have GOT to clean that crap out. Start by donating all the suits and good clothes to a women's' charity.
7. THE BOYS! OMG, do I tell the boys?? If I tell Cliff to warn him, will he then tell the boys before we know what is actually going on?
8. THE CAT! What will happen to Miss Kitty? She will be homeless. I know mom and dad won't take her, but if I play the I'm dying card can I guilt them into it? I have to make plans to find someone to take custody of my cat!
9. The crap in my office. OMG that place is a sty. I should probably call one of those industrial shredding places to shred all my old client files.
10. THE COMPUTER! I should probably consider having my hard drive scrubbed. People send the craziest pictures...LOL
11. If I am going to die, will I be all alone? Will anyone be here to hold my hair? Or pluck the chin hairs that grow in?
12. I really need to clean my bedroom. It is rather messy and looks like a bomb went off.
13. I really need to mop the floors and scrub the bathroom.

Ok, I will stop at 13 as it just never ends. But, that is a small part of what I go through every night. I did find out that a glass or two of wine helps quiet the voices so I can get to sleep.

OMG the Bra! I blame Oprah!!

Earlier in the year, I decided that I was going to give myself a head-to-toe makeover and start a whole new life. It all began with a waxing that left NOTHING below the waist (I KNOW, TMI!) I got myself a pedicure, a manicure and a few new tops. The ONLY thing missing was matching bra and pantie sets.

A few years ago, Oprah started this tradition of about once a year telling women that they were almost all wearing the wrong size bra. Oprah claimed that by being measured for the proper size bra and then wearing said item, your life would be magically transformed into a life of joy and fulfillment. This was exactly what I needed in my life! I was never flat chested, but for years now, I have been wearing a 42DD sports bra from Lane Bryant. They didn't really fit, but they were comfy and if my boobs got smashed together and formed a permanent rash between them (I KNOW, TMI!) so be it. They came in a number of colors and the patterned ones went on clearance now and then. So, armed with the knowledge that the perfect bra was all I needed, I went to Lane Bryant to be measured by a professional.

I was informed that I was a 38I. That comes after D, DD, DDD, E, F, G, H, I. I KNOW!! Normally if a woman's cup size is that big, the band size will match. A 48DD is far more common then a 38GG-the UK size (or I in the US). It was like trying to buy a pair of pants with a size 2 waist and a size 16 ass. I refused to accept this and left in tears.

Btw, although many stores claim to carry larger sizes online, they are never in stock. So, having heard from a woman that there was a special store on Michigan Ave. called Intimacy, that carried hard to find sizes, I bit the bullet and saved my pennies, fully aware this would set me back at LEAST $75 per bra. When I was finally able to make an appointment, it was finally confirmed that yes, I was a 38GG. They had a WHOLE DRAWER full of bras my size in pretty colors and lace and styles. Of that whole drawer, exactly ONE fit me properly. So, with one black lace bra (yeah, totally practical to wear under anything) and a bottle of bra wash, I left the store again in tears and with $89 less in my pocket.

I have NEVER been so suicidal in my life. No wonder nothing fit, I was a freak of nature. Knowing my true bra size DID NOT transform my life in a good way. The bra is still in the bag, on my dresser, never worn. It sits and mocks me. I never had the desire or the occasion to wear it. Now, I don't have to.

The Biopsy, Part 2, ONLY ME!!

I went to work and finally left at 5PM because by that time I was just too tired and in too much pain to deal with any more work. I was going to have a short week (only 37.25 hours), but for what I had been through, I figured it was close enough for government work.

Because I could not deal with even the thought of cooking food, I called the roomie and informed her I was ordering out and was happy to pay for her meal as well. We both had Thai and it was actually very good.

Did I mention it was raining when I left work? Because I was in pain and tired, I decided to suck it up and eat the cost to take a cab home. I figured it would be around $30 but this way NOONE could accidentally hit me in my now very sore boob. After finally hailing a cab (again, did I mention it was raining?), I was informed by the cab driver that if I wanted to go all the way to the North side of Chicago, he had to stop for gas. REALLY?? At least the up side was that I was able to break the $100 bill I had so I could pay him without fighting about whether he would take a credit card.

I finally arrived home and had dinner in hand and stomach by about 7:30. After watching a bit of crap from the DVR, I made my way to bed at 8:30. Almost as soon as I crawled into bed, I found fleas. Two live adult fleas, which I killed, and upon further inspection, a host of crawling things between the sheets at the foot of my bed! EWWWWWW!!@! I then crawled onto the couch but realized that if they were on my bed, where cats slept, they would be on the couch and throws, where cats slept as well. I then got back up, stripped my bed completely and scrounged a few spare sheets and only 2 small throws. One to prop my left side and the other to barely cover me. I found a travel pillow to use as a pillow. Because I had company staying over the past two weekends, EVERY SINGLE PIECE OF SPARE BEDDING was in living room folded or on my bed.

Needless to say, I did not sleep well, if at all, that evening and spent most of the night staring at the ceiling muttering, "cancer and fleas the same day? REALLY????". The next day I finally decided to call for help and my sister was kind enough to come and take me and 5 JUMBO loads of bedding, etc. to the laundry mat so I could at least sleep in my bed. Cats were treated, furniture was treated and the dressing on my wound was changed. Miss Kitty was very unhappy to spend the next 3 nights locked out of the room, but I wanted to make damned certain any crawly things that might have escaped their doom were likely dead.

The Biopsy Part 1, the actual procedure

I chose to go to the biopsy alone and then planned to go to work afterwards. Remember, we already knew it was cancer, but this would be the defining moment when we would finally find out how bad it was. Because it was a "needle biopsy" I figured it would not be as invasive as a lumpectomy and therefore I could return to work quickly.

They actually gave me two gowns this time. One opened in the front and the top one opened in the back. They put you on a table with a huge hole in the middle and have you put the "bad" boob into the hole. Because the hole is rather large, it is like leaning over a manhole cover and the edge of the hole digs into your ribs. No matter how much I shifted, it was never going to be "comfortable" so I finally convinced them to just start the damned thing so it would be over more quickly. I refused to let them show me the needle aparatus. REALLY? Does anyone really want to see it?

The boob is then placed into a smasher that is just like the one that they use for mammograms. I was told to keep my left side still. They then hoisted me up like a car and worked on me from below. The staff was great in that they talked me through everything and let me know ahead of time what the various noises, etc. were. The outside of the breast is then numbed with novicaine, yes, just like at the dentist. The "needle" cannot be that tiny because they had to cut into me to get the thing in. Once it is in, sometime during the procedure they shoot another shot of novicaine into the hole.

The procedure is very unpleasant and very uncomfortable. I could "feel" the drilling and it was not a happy thing. My entire right side of my body was so tensed up that it still bothers me a week later. My right shoulder is the bad one and by the time the novicaine wore off at 4pm ish, I didn't know which hurt worse, the left tit or the right side of my body.

The Fight or Flight Decision....REALLY!

From the very beginning, I was almost thankful that I had a horrible disease that might actually kill me. Yes, almost happy about it. I am tired of being perceived as a loser, the boys are gone, I am tired of paying the student loans for an education that turned out to be pointless for an older woman who is not hot, not skinny and not well connected. Let's face it, I am the LAST person to get hired for a job if there is anyone young, cute and thin in the running.........LOL

I love being a lawyer, but I hate the constant struggle and have little to no respect for most other lawyers. I think my view is based largely on the fact that I started my career doing domestic cases and I was tired of looking at the other attorneys (mostly male) my age who did not put their lives and careers on hold to raise kids.

I feel like I made a horrible mistake when I let the boys go live with their father. I knew it was not the best thing to do, but I was tired of being the "mean parent" in their lives. I never got to be the fun one and no matter what I said, it was never going to be "cooler" to continue to live at home with mom then to move to Japan with their dad.

So here I sit, broke, without a career, no love life, kids are gone, car blew up and with both uterus problems and breast cancer. Well hell, when I look at it in writing it looks soooooooooo much better...........NOT...............LOL

Finally, there is my fear of dying alone. I know that I have family and friends who "support me" and "love me", but it goes back to the basic question of who will hold my hair if the chemo or radiation makes me sick?

How Crass!

There is a bar near my house that is a local neighborhood dive. It is not a straight bar, but most of the guys there can be called friends. I am very welcome, find the crowd VERY non-judgmental and very accepting of my sense of humour. The drinks are cheap, the pour is generous and they make me smile. The best part is I know that none of them will ever try to slip something into my drink to get into my pants (unless he wants to borrow the matching top!). I usually meet a few close friends there on Wednesday and Friday nights and it was the first place I thought of to go for election results. Sure enough, Gunga was there with an actual score card of all the races in all the states.

Most of the guys there have been aware that I have been having some physical issues and when I am asked what is wrong, I flat out tell anyone who pushes the issue that I have breast cancer. I have not necessarily shouted it from the rooftops, but I have also not gone quietly into that good night. Living where I do, so far from family and with the kids gone, I do tend to feel isolated. Don't get me wrong, I love where I live, love the neighborhood, am grateful for ALL of the wonderful people I have met being a "Granville Girl", but I do feel lonely for a guy in my life at times. I get that at the Anvil. The owners are close friends and were quick to inform me that their dog had survived breast cancer so I should be fine. (*heavy sigh here* that the closest breast cancer survivor I know is a Terrier who survived a radical double mastectomy make me want to say REALLY!!)

Anywho, the point of this was to say that one of the bartenders (who it turns out is not well liked) informed me that to say out loud AND IN PUBLIC that I had breast cancer was tacky, rude and extremely crass. This is something to be discussed, OR NOT, discreetly with a few clothes intimate friends and family. I told him misery loved company and I was tired of everyone asking me all the time, "So, how are you? Anything new in your life? We haven't seen you in a while, what have you been up to?"

The Top 10 Lists

Sometime during all this crazyness, I created my Top 10 Bad Things About Dying Early and my Top 10 Good Things About Dying Early. It works best if you read the bad first and then read the corresponding good one.

TOP 10 BAD
10) I will never get to see my sons get married.
9) I won't get to see my kids graduate from college.
8) I will never get to see Japan.
7) No more Christmas goodies from Catherine.
6) I have no love life.
5) I will have died broke with no assets.
4) I won't live to be a burden to my kids.
3) I will never hit a size 12 again.
2) I will not be able to say I had a great "career".

1) I won't live to suck up Cliff's retirement funds!

TOP 10 GOOD
10) Never have to deal with my sons' in-laws.
9) Won't have to worry about paying college tuition.
8) I didn't have to spend time near Cliff.
7) No more baking an unholy amount of Christmas goodies for mostly ungreatful family and friends.
6) I can die knowing I never got HIV or AIDS!
5) I will not have burdened Amy with settling my estate.
4) I won't have to worry about what nursing home my Michael would choose for me.
3) I never have to diet again.
2) No more job hunting ever!

1) I can tell the federal government to SUCK IT on my over 100k in student loans I still owe!!!!

Who Then? or, My Reality Check Bounces

Mom had a point. I guess if anyone got "stuck" taking care of me, it would have to be her. If we go down the list of all those included, we would find that the list was not short, but my options were nil.

Michael - yeah right, like Rita would let that happen.
Philip - yeah right, like Phil would even consider it and I couldn't take all the smoking.
Amy - again, yeah right, like Matt would let that happen. As much as I love Amy to death, she does have the disease to please and I would NOT want to put her in the middle of this mess!
Mary - possible, but I always considered her the most self centered of the kids. Besides, does Arkansas even have a VA hospital??
Thom - not even in a morphine induced haze would I consider this because of the sheer number of kids and the constant praying. You are entitled to believe whatever you want, but please stop trying to shove it down our throats too.
Jean - while Jean has the best set up, as to space, location, etc., I always considered her the most selfish of the kids and I don't see this happening either. She is not a fan of it doesn't fit into her lifestyle.
Ian and Michael - Not Michael, but Ian would drop everything in a heartbeat and come home to take care of me. I cannot get past the part where this is NOT fair to do that to a 17 year old.
Rick - lives in the middle of NOWHERE and then 20 miles past that AND taking care of his dad is a full time job in and of itself.
Lara & JW - while it is an option, I don't think they are close enough to a VA hospital and I would not be able to temp at all. Besides, we already know the altitude and dry air wreak havoc on my heart and sinuses.
Roomie - not really a nurturing type, not family and not really the kind of "friend" I could ask that of.
My local friends - can't see asking them to help shower me if that winds up being the case. I do think that they will take care of things like food and laundry though.

That is the list for now, but keep checking, I might think of more unlikely options....LOL

Turkey Day and Xmas wishes

My decision to spend Thanksgiving, "...cooking for my fag friends", as my mother so eloquently stated, was based in part on the fact that a very dear friend had asked me to co host the event at his house. After losing his life partner to liver cancer very quickly, he felt it might be too hard to face the holiday alone. The other reason for my decision was that I have been too tired lately to consider traveling out to Narnia for anything. So, 50/50 split on helping a friend and too pooped to travel. I never intended to snub anyone, just looking out for those who are physically closer to me and who I felt needed the help. For the record, the party at his house is off as he is going to the home of close friends and I am just going to stay home as my decision is 100% about not up to traveling.

Christmas. The ONLY thing I want for Christmas is my boys. There is no way possible for me to pay to fly them home, but if anyone knows of a wish type program for adults that would pay for the flights or has an airline connection that might donate the flights, please pass this on. Their dad might be eligible to get help from Navy Relief, but he would have to ask as they only help the actual service member. Hell, I still have to rely on him actually putting the boys on a plane.......LOL

Follow-up at the VA, the Surgical Consult and more Reality Bites

Spent yet another night with the folks. While Dad loves the company, I definitely got the feeling that Mom was thinking about the fish and family thing....that we both begin to stink after a few days. Conversations with the folks about long range plans have been half hearted, joking aside type comments and an attempt to use humour to get a better idea of where I was coming from and where I felt the whole thing would go. When I merely mentioned the fact that Miss Kitty might need a new home, Dad immediately agreed that she would be "welcome", but Mom quickly shot him the look that kills so I knew that plan was dead in the water. Miss Kitty has been guaranteed a home with my current roomie Becky and her two cats Winston and Luna. None of the cats are particularly thrilled about THAT idea.

So, the day of my follow-up at the VA I went to work and had Mom meet me in Forest Park at the end of the Blue Line. Brought an overnight bag because I did not know if the consult would become a check-in. While waiting for the surgeon, we were introduced to a medical student who proceeded to take my history and ask a million questions I had already answered to others. I could NOT believe that I was dealing with breast cancer and I was being handed off to a newbie. I think the look on my face said it all and both Mom and I agreed that there was NO WAY I was taking a word of advice from this young gal. This whipped any fear I had of being treated at the VA into an absolute frenzy.

When the surgeon finally arrived, his assistant (or merely another surgeon, I was not totally coherent at this point) both agreed the lump was where they said it was and said they agreed that the VA should perform a lumpectomy and once we knew what was actually inside, they would proceed to come up with a game plan to attack the cancer itself. This was the FIRST time a doctor was willing to actually say the word......CANCER, yes, I had CANCER!

That in and of itself was actually a huge relief. I explained that of my two greatest fears, dying alone and frankentits, the thought of the VA performing my surgery and leaving me with hideous scars scared the pants out of me and actually made me hope and pray the cancer would kill me instead of leaving me looking like a total freak. I was having a hard enough time finding dates WITH giant knockers. Imagine how hard it would be if I was flat on top and fat on the bottom. The doctors (both male) did not understand and obsession with the concept of frankentits until I explained that if it was penis cancer and they might wind up with a frankendick, they would be all up into it. Mother expressed horror at my blunt terms but ALL parties in the room had to agree. If there was one thing the VA was absolutely lousy at, it was dealing with tits and whohas.

When I was finally able to get the docs to understand my aversion to surgery, they agreed a needle biopsy would be the best bet AND they acknowledged that it had to be done at Loyola because they did not have the right equipment at the VA. That both Mom and I feel a huge burden lifted and a huge sigh of relief was obvious as well. Measure twice and cut once had NEVER rung so damned true to anything I had ever done before.

This is where the conversations were now a little less light, a little more serious and for me, a bit more desperate. Now that I knew, for a fact, that I had cancer, the what ifs and who woulds started to eat at me. Did I want to fight this? (handled in a seperate post) Would I wind up with frankentits? Who would hold my hair while I puked from the chemo? Radiation? Did that make you sick like chemo? Would I be able to work? How would I feed myself if I couldn't get out of bed? Would I be allowed to keep the gig I have if I can't work full time? When I jokingly told mom that it was too bad that I could not be a burden on my children, but that I was going to be a burden to someone, she let out a very heavy sigh and told me that she had already "resigned" herself to the fact that she would be "stuck" taking care of me because it was obvious noone else would do it. A short while later she informed me that because I did not have a "real job", the family had pretty agreed I would become an unfair financial burden to my family and that I was only after Mom's money.

It was at this point I left for the train sobbing and walking through Naperville. Mom's parting shot was that she never said she wouldn't take me to the train. Poor Dad was very confused but I just had to get out of there. I certainly did not want to be a burden on anyone. I do not blame Mom for her feelings, feelings are just that. But, she also has tons of stuff going on in her own life and I would be encroaching on her retirement. I get that.

Lunch and the Reality Bites

After spending allllllllllllllllllll morning at Loyola, determining for myself that it was cancer, and then having the radiologist agree that the lymph nodes needed to be viewed on the ultrasound, Mom and I decided that lunch was in order. Because the doctor had indicated that they wanted me in for a biopsy ASAP, we chose to eat close to the hospital. Driving through Forest Park, we found a plethora of dining choices along Madison Ave. Mom and I were both pleased to find a sister restaurant to our favorite, La Sorella, and were thrilled to find parking just across the street.

Lunch was the first good food I had been able to get down in a very long time (more on the neausea later) and it tasted good going down. Just as our food arrived, Mom looked at me and declared, "Crap! I forgot to feed the meter." I grabbed my jacket, phone (the hospital could call at any second) and my wallet and went running out into the street. JUST as I crossed the street, the parking police had pulled behind the car and the officer was about to write me a ticket for an expired meter. While Mom and I had both noticed the meter, neither of us actually went to feed it. LOL. Because the officer didn't seem to want to back down, I informed him that I had pretty much just been diagnosed with breast cancer and we had stopped for lunch and forgot to feed the meter. He immediately expressed his sorrow for me and agreed the last thing I needed was a parking ticket.

Like I said, lunch was actually very good and I ate almost all of it. During lunch I tried to express my fears and concerns and to let Mom know that it was pretty much a foregone conclusion that I actually had breast cancer and that I needed to start making plans. Mom, like everyone else, kept saying, "It might be nothing, you don't know until they know for sure." What I wanted to scream, but actually calmly stated, was that "nothing" does not grow tendrils nor potentially invade your lymph nodes. I had to start making plans for the worst and hope for the best. Or did I?

Present Tense or My Third Trip to This R O D E O

I almost forgot to mention that they had only recently (beginning of Sept. ish) ruled out uterus cancer. They had no idea what was causing such heavy bleeding or such horrible cramps, but all parties involved agreed this was NOT a good thing.

Bringing it forward to September 27th of this year, I was sent forth for my annual mammogram. The VA no longer performs mammograms, or so it appears, so I was sent to Loyola Breast Health Clinic (Boobs R' Us). They seemed very professional and I was given a very thorough screening. A very short time later I was called to say that they had found a conspicuous lump in my left breast. I was not surprised to hear this and kinda blew it off. The nurse went on to say that because the lump was so troublesome, they wanted to schedule me to come back ASAP. Because this was being done through the VA, "immediately" became Oct. 23. My boobs were being "recalled". Apparently all of my parts were beginning to wear out.

Because I had been here, done this, I was not too concerned until I read that the small indentation I had noticed on the underside of my left boob was one of the big indicators of cancer and it meant REALLY NOT GOOD things. Armed with this knowledge, I made arrangements to spend the night before the mammogram at Mom's so she could take me the next day. During this period I had mentioned to Mom that while I was not so terribly upset, it would suck if things went south. (No pun intended.)

On Oct. 23, my worst fears were confirmed. Even I could tell from the original mammogram that things were far worse then I was led to believe. The lump was both highly discernable and appeared to have sprouted legs. It was obviously invasive and I was not medically trained. Little thoughts that had crept into my head in the past few weeks came at me like a freight train.

This could kill me! This would devastate the boys! I was going to die alone with no one special in my life! No one would be there to take care of me! I was broke already but this was not doable from a financial standpoint! OMG! OMG! OMG!

Part Deux

Sometime in 2004/2005 ish, I discovered a kinda painful lump on the top of my left breast. It didn't cause me too much concern until it became very large and very painful very quickly. (Note; I have since found out that most "painful lumps" are not in fact breast cancer and tend to by cysts.) When it suddenly was the size of a walnut, I made a beeline to the Hines, VA (Veterans' Administration) hospital in Maywood. After sitting for hours in the waiting room, I was finally forced to call Mom and Dad and make sure they were there to feed the boys. (Note; I was ALWAYS very grateful for the many times they helped with the boys while we all lived in Naperville!) Finally, around 6:30pm ish, I was seen by a surgeon who announced it was "nothing more" then an infected cyst and with very little in the way of discussion or explanation, slit open the cyst and proceeded to bandage up the incision. I wish I could say exactly what he did or said, but I was pretty much out of it by then. I was sent home with very confusing, vague and ambiguous directions on wound care.

When I finally got home, I believe around 9pm ish, I went ahead and took a shower. Because I do not recall being told to leave the bandage in place for a few days or not to shower, I proceeded to remove the bandage only to find a small piece of gauze sticking out of my boob. Imagine my horror when I started to pull on the strip and it just kept coming. It was a slasher movie combined with the magic scarf trick and I was totally freaked out. Michael informed me the next day that he was scared to death and was convinced his mother had been ax murdered. Dripping wet and gushing blood, I called Mom to come and help me. With a great deal of love and care, and very little tut-tut, she bandaged me back up and put me to bed.

So, round two was merely an infected cyst.

In the beginning........

For those who have not heard this tale, like Bilbo, I will take you back to where it all began, in the Shire. Well, actually, Carbondale, Illinois, which might as well be the middle of nowhere. The year was 1996 and I was a second year law student. Sometime in September of that year, I was called in to the VA hospital in Marion, IL for my yearly routine physical. During this physical, the nurse practitioner found lumps. The lumps were confirmed by the nurse and by the physician. I was then informed that at age 34, I was being referred for a mammogram. Almost a month and a half later, I was finally seen for a mammogram. The very grim looking person who took the x-rays refused to indicate whether they were good, bad or ugly, and told me I had to discuss the results with my doctor. At this time in my life, I was living in almost isolation in DeSoto, IL, population of 1600 and attending law school full-time. Cliff, we all remember Cliff, was stationed in Norfolk and was then in the middle of a 6 month Med. cruise.

My boys were about 4 and 6 and my entire life was flashing before my eyes. I felt isolated, alone and terrified of what would become of my boys. Almost a month later, I was told the results indicated that what I had was fibro cystic disease of the breasts (read lumpy boobs). I was told to take 400 IU of vitamin E every day and the lumps were decrease. They did in deed, but I was now left with the knowledge with lumpy boobs.

Did I mention that one of my classes that semester was Medical Malpractice? I sat down mid December to take my Med. Mal. final. I opened the exam book and started reading. "A woman goes in for her annual physical and they discover lumps. The doctors them perform a lymphectomy and remove the wrong lymph nodes. The pharmacy overdoses her on her chemotherapy. Does she have a cause of action and against whom?" It took me 20 minutes in the bathroom to compose myself enough to take the exam. Needless to say, I scored one of the highest grades in that class.

Duty to Warn

I just realized I had not fulfilled my duty to warn, as to content. That said, here it goes. What you will read in here is a reflection of how I feel, what I feel, what is happening and my impressions of events and conversations that have transpired. I will NOT be PC and keep anything to myself and I WILL describe, probably in graphic detail, what is happening to me. That said, the language might appear to be "graphic" but I will make every effort to keep it non-vulgar. I will not hold any punches, but things like the actual biopsy will be labeled as such so you can skip over anything you would rather not read (as in TMI, TMI, TMI). Some people are not going to like what I may say to them or about them, but again, this is how I feel and feelings are neither right or wrong, they simply are what they are.

Any questions before we begin? Then keep your hands inside the car at all times, this will be a bumpy ride!

Bear left, right frog

Bear with me as I work out the kinks as fast as I can, but God willing and the creek don't rise, I should be able to start from the beginning this evening.

BC for the non PC.....REALLY??

Because I have received so many emails, texts, phone calls and whatnothaveyou from everyone inquiring into my health, I have decided to create a blog. EVERYTHING will be on the blog, no holds barred, and I will keep everyone up to date.

I do not respond to most emails, etc. these days because I mostly don't feel up to it, so, if it happened in life, it will appear on the blog in all its glory.