Lab tests Friday at 11am - 1pm Bone Marrow Biopsy/Aspiration. At least I don't have to come back for it on the 22nd. I never thought I would want it to be sooner than later, but I do.
I have been ok. Really tired and some bad hip pain. I'm kind of rashy too. I think it is because they are tapering me off of the steroids. Eight mg every other day. At least I hope that's all there is. Either that or this godforesaken heat. I really want this bone marrow biopsy to be clean. I want a full year and a half of clean biopsies. I want to stop worrying about every little ache and pain, but I know that will probably never happen. It's either nothing or it's horrible.
We've been having a great time in Houston. Zoe has been playing so much with her cousins and we went and saw "Underdog" yesterday (way cute!!) I think we will be heading back to San Antonio on Monday (if I can stand the drive/pain from the BMB).
I am going to be really sad to leave. I love it here (although the traffic is unreal). I love being around my family and the kids. I miss being able to call up my girlfriends or my fun Sis #2 to say, hey... let's do dinner. I miss driving around and having some clue where I am. But most of all, I miss my sense of home. Sis #1's house has always been like my retreat. When we lived here, Zoe and I lived in a small, one-bedroom apartment. It was nice, but cramped. Zoe used to play with the neighbors in the breezeway. So we went to Sis #1's casa nearly every week - babysitting or just visiting.
When I would go to Sis #1's house, Zoe had room to run. A big driveway and a street to ride bikes. Real furniture. Playmates. Toys. And I had my sis and BIL to talk to about things. It really was my second home. I felt comfortable here enough to pass out on the couch to nap, to whip up a dinner for us, or to raid the fridge. I still do. I knew my daughter was safe here. And I love my neices and nephews like they are my own.
My BIL said he wishes he had a bigger house so we could stay here. It's a big house, but not big enough to hold six people.
Oh well. Today Sis #1 reminded me that I have come so far from this time last year. And I will come even further by this time next year. I know it's true, but sometimes it doesn't feel that way. I know it will happen.
And goshdarnit if reading that August archive just now didn't make me cry. I remember Monkeyboy. I still do. Every single day. When I think of something funny that I know he'd laugh at. Or if I felt terrible, I know he understood. I feel like a masochist missing him.
Ok. I'm itchy. Like a dog with fleas.
I can do this. I'm itchy and cranky and sore, but I'm still here. Stubborn girl!
Your assignment today is to help me with my talk I have to give on August 30th in SA. Part of it is to discuss how my diagnosis has impacted me and my family's life. I know many of you have experienced this situation. It's nearly beyond words to describe how helpless you feel. How horrible it all is. So help me. Tell me your story. Give me some words.
Thank you, Collins... I miss you! Give D hugs for me, will ya?
While trying to escape through Pakistan, Osama bin Laden found a bottle on the sand and picked it up. Suddenly, a female genie rose from the bottle and with a smile said, "Master, may I grant you one wish?"
Osama responded, "You ignorant, unworthy daughter-of-a-dog! Don't you know who I am? I don't need any common woman giving me anything."
The shocked genie said, "Please, I must grant you a wish or I will be returned to that bottle forever."
Osama thought a moment, then grumbled about the impertinence of the woman and said, "Very well, I want to awaken with three American women in my bed in the morning. So just do it and be off with you."
The annoyed genie said, "So be it!" and disappeared.
The next morning bin Laden woke up in bed with Lorena Bobbitt, Tonya Harding, and Hillary Clinton at his side.
His penis was gone, his knees were broken, and he had no health insurance.
God is Good.
Posted by debutaunt at August 9, 2007 12:30 PMSpeak from your heart and you will do well. I have spoken before Breast Cancer Survivor Groups and at first I found that I would be way to close to tears as I told my story. Not that tears are bad. They just caused my voice to go up to a really high pitch and words seemed to get stuck in my throat. I found out that if I did my talk over and over out loud before having to appear before a group, I still had emotion in my voice, but lost that inability to speak in a normal voice.
Hope this suggestion helps.
Posted by: Maria at August 9, 2007 04:28 PMOkay, that joke cracked me up!
You want words about my cancer battle? I have too many words to write here, but I've written plenty about it over at my place. (Actually, one of those posts is about my mom and her battle with ovarian.) If there's anything you can use, you're welcome to it.
I'll be thinking of you tomorrow and over the weekend. Praying for good results, and hoping you don't have to wait too long to get them.
Posted by: Sharkey at August 9, 2007 05:59 PMConsidering all you've been through and still have the capacity to laugh and have a skewed take on things, I'd tell you to talk about that. The serious stuff will flow anyway.
Sometimes maintaining the everyday weirdness is what's key, and you certainly excel at that.
You rock. You do.
I'm coming up on 5 years-bc. There will always be the "on the lookout" stance, but still.
Your story your courage your humor that's what you get up and tell them. Tell them about Uma and remind them you are Queen of the Universe. But they will know that the minute you walk up on the platform. Just be you and you will be fine.
Oh and your BMB will be clean, clean, clean!
Posted by: Claire at August 9, 2007 10:19 PMDeb,
I'm praying your BMB is clean and you can escape Houston's traffic maze without too many problems.
As to the assignment, to whom are you giving your talk? The talk would be very different for a group of people that are debating the use of donor stem cells than it would be for kids or teens who have a parent who is sick.
Either way, having read what I'v read for the past 18 months, I'm absolutely certain that you'll find the right voice and the right message to get the point across.
Posted by: Patrick at August 13, 2007 08:35 AMSo...how is family impacted, and you mention helplessness? I remember going through this with my mom. I was such a baby then. 16, 17...19,20..24 years old. I thrashed about, cooking, cleaning, fixing, doing anything I possibly could to take care of that which I didn't understand and I could not possibly take care of. I exhausted myself. Then I went to school and learned the science of it. And I thrashed about, and worked extra hours, and worked for free. I exhausted myself. Then I decided to get to know people, and even better to let them get to know me. I let them see my fear, and my ignorance. I let them know that they could teach me something about living that had nothing at all to do with doctors and disease. I have some "if only's" around this. If only I had known this while I was thrashing around my mom, I would have spent more time learning about the Bev that had nothing at all to do with cancer. Because her cancer wasn't nearly as important as was she in the grand scheme of things. My patients have taught me this. It's a wonderful lesson. I'm done thrashing. I'm living. I hope this helps a little, Deb.
Posted by: Michelle (HiStandards) at August 14, 2007 11:14 AM