debutaunt.com

Sweat

Yesterday was a hella long day. I did so much walking around the clinic and it kind of wore me out.

Walking.

Wore me out.

I was an athlete for a long time. I played basketball on and off all the way through college. I totally sucked, but I still played. I liked the workout and always had friends on the team. But I was the player that they'd put in only when we were up by 20 points or more. Kind of like Rudy. I also started a fitness challenge this last Summer (http://www.bodyforlife.com ) and loved it. I felt great (albeit still tired) and saw some great results. I really like working out, but if I get out of my routine, it falls to the wayside. Which is so not good.

And I was getting jammied up last night and was like WOAH. My thighs, they be a jigglin'. Me no likey that. I'm kind of a muscle-bound freak and here I have atrophy and I can honestly say my thighs are now officially fat. Ok fatter.

I feel like I should be exercising. I really like to work out. I look back over my Body for Life entries and I honestly think I might have been sick back then. Lots of entries where I worked out yet still could not feel rested enough. Who knows.

Monkey Boy, aka Mr. Triathalon, did some research for me on the internets. He thinks I need to be as strong as possible before my BMT, and I tend to agree. Hell, I do have enough time on my hands here. So I'm curious.

Exercise During Cancer Treatment

Decreased physical activity, which may be the result of the cancer itself or the treatment, can lead to tiredness and lack of energy. Regular, moderate exercise can decrease these feelings, help you stay active and increase your energy. Even during cancer therapy, it is often possible to continue exercising.

Exercise at least three times a week. The right kind of exercise never makes you feel sore, stiff, or exhausted. If you experience soreness, stiffness, exhaustion, or feel out of breath as a result of your exercise, you are overdoing it. Most exercises are safe, as long as you exercise with caution and don't overdo it. The safest and most productive activities are swimming, brisk walking, indoor stationary cycling and low impact aerobics (taught by a certified instructor). These activities carry little risk of injury and benefit your entire body.

The main issue is not the exercise, but the central line. You have to replace the bandage once a week, and I do mine in the leukemia center. It's a delicate process to clean it and it has to remain sterile. Ergo, no sweating they said or it can get badly infected. They emphasize this every visit. Infected CVC is really really bad. Even when I shower, I have to tape it all up with some press on saran wrap to keep it from getting wet.

Hello. It's Houston. You can sweat just walking to your car here.

And me. Well I sweat when I work out . Even just a little bit of exercise can trigger it. I think that's why my skin is near flawless. I tried yoga, where you think you'd not even break a sweat, but even that had me soaked. Pilates and weight training too. I love to swim, but with my lovely CVC brooch, that is completely out. Even Sweatin' to the Oldies would have me drenched.

So how do you remain active and not sweat?

Not to mention, even just walking a flight of stairs has me so out of breath sometimes I worry about passing out. I fainted once during round one and it scared me to death. This is due to low blood counts - red blood cells to be specific. You know, those ones that bring oxygen to your body. Well mine are "high," but they still are far below what a normal person's are. Thus the out of breath thing. It's spooky. Spookier than the raccoons in the dark.

My gym is out. I had to suspend my membership because I'm not allowed to be around crowds. I'd love to get an exercise bike, but then again the whole working out/passing out thing kind of scares me. Especially since I'm by myself nearly all day. No one would find me for days. (ok, a few hours) Although there's no dog here to chew my face off. But by then the raccoons might get in.

I have a doctor's appointment today and I want to ask her about it. I know MDA has a wellness center, but when they show the commercials for it on the hospitals CANCER CHANNEL, it looks crowded. Which again is a no no.

[aside]
When you are an inpatient, and turn on the tv, the first thing that pops up is this narrated video about cancer. CANCER TV. Like the hotel videos a hotel shows. I'm sorry, but when you have cancer, that's the last thing you need to see. Welcome to the hospital. You have CANCER. No. Show me Comedy Central. Have it set to Monty Python or Steven Martin. SNL oldies 24/7. Cheeseburger Cheeseburger. Not cancer patients talkng about their treatment. Let me remind you in case you forgot. YOU HAVE CANCER. I want to be reminded that I have a funny bone. They also show CNN or Fox news on all the waiting room tvs. And usually they won't let you change the channel to Maury or Oprah. Heck, even judge tv or the Discovery channel would be better than repeats about how many people are dying in Iraq. Or more dead miners. Talk about depressing.

So. We'll see what Dr. T has to say about me working out. I'm not diggin this muscle atrophy thing. I mean I might actually want to get naked again someday with someone, and this, this is soooo not attractive. I look like I have turkey skin. My clothes are fitting huge, but this isn't worth it.

If anyone has gone through this before, having a CVC and all, I'd love to hear what you ended up doing as far as getting a little activity in your routine. If it's a long deal, send it to my deb mail on the sidebar. Gracias!

I can do this. I just don't want to end up like the stay puff marshmellow man.

Your assignment today (again) is to MOVE. Get your butt in gear and take a walk. Or go to the gym and kick your own ass. Take a hard spinning class. Or do some yoga to a video. Just get your butt up and move. It will make you feel good. Get a sweat on. You'll thank me for it later.

lasagna

A Phew Haiku Just for You

How can I kick cancer's ass
When I don't get any sleep
Animal Kingdom

The raccoons are coming
Again scratching through the wall
At 3am - Damn

I stayed up all morn
Had these weird back spasms, yuck
6:30 bloodwork

Get to MDA
They cancelled my appointment
Forgot to tell me

I go for chemo
They send me to the ER
Bad back spasms still

Wait all damn morning
But got muscle relaxers
Was kind of yummy

Go back to chemo
Only takes 15 minutes
No side effects, whew

Vinchristine is bad
It can burn your skin right off
Chemo is scary

My ride was busy
I read a whole magazine
People is the bomb

Jessica, big lips
Brangelina, who does care?
Tomkat, odd baby

It was a long day
I missed me some internets
But now I'm jammied

How do you haiku
And use the word 'bubbala'
Love me some Shoshie

Now it's transplant time
I need to find out next steps
Where is it going

I can do this, yo
Yo, I really can do this
Am I a rapper?

Today your assignment is to write me a haiku about your day. Or your favorite junk food. Or just anything. I'm stealing this from Sarcomical, but I'm a long time fan of the haiku.

If you forgot - a haiku is a 'bisella' poem. It has five syllables, then seven, then five again. I have faith that you can easily complete this assignment.

Grace.

It's a Good Night When

I went to my supperclub party last night at Sis #1's house. You know it's a great party when it involves:

Wigs
Steak tenderloin as big and long as my arm
Ferrari rides
Diane's cole slaw
Shrimp that someone else peels
Laughing until you snort
Twice stuffed potatos
Scented candles
Scotch
Cowboy hats
Cheese of all flavors
Push up bras
Fruit on sticks
Fake eyelashes
Chocolate cake with strawberries
Girl talk

I got home and was talking on the phone at nearly 1am when the raccoons attacked. The room where I'm staying is always pitch black at night. And then I hear this loud scratching and banging outside the window. Then the raccoons climbed up onto the outside porch and it sounded like they were trying to come into the room. It freaked me out because I swear it sounded like someone was out there. Scratching, banging and some knocking. Overactive imagination, but at the time I was such a scaredy baby. Finally I un-chickened out and banged on the door and heard them scatter off. It really is rather spooky.

I love going to dinner with this group of people. They are fun, smart, generous, and make me laugh. They are all married too.

I was reading online this debate over "The One." The argument was that people really shouldn't stay married because after a few years everyone is unhappy anyway, and that they should just trade up after a few years. That when a couple hits that point, they should just move on to someone else.

I guess I just have more faith than that. Of anyone that could be the "bitter divorced woman" it should be me. My ex was just a rat bastard to me (and Zoe.) I was talking about it last night. My ex was really upset when I was diagnosed. We get along fine now, like old friends, but he is really sad about my leukemia. And I remembered back how it was when I was married.

We really did have a good marriage for about four years. I was a great wife. But when I got pregnant, my husband just changed. He did. It was like his life was just over. His best days were from high school, and here he was - turning forty and about to have a child. And I was elated about Zoe. He wasn't, even though we talked long and often about having a child. It was the beginning of my new life and like the end of his. These two perspectives just changed our marriage. And then his subsequent actions ruined it.

Last night my friend Diane (and my attorney) said to me, "You are going to be divorced Wednesday." It hit me so hard, but I was relieved. Happy even. I have been separated from my ex for over three years. But for a year we stayed married because he paid for my health insurance. Then he got laid off and I have been carrying him on my insurance for a few years. He's Zoe's dad so I just didn't want him to be without medical coverage. It cost me a lot of money, which I don't like to think about, but it just was what it was. When I was diagnosed, and without income, it just wasn't an option anymore. So to hear that my divorce is finally happening just makes me excited. Like a new chapter in my life is beginning. And like I have some weight off my shoulders.

I remember after we split that I went to supperclub with my friends. I saw these couples kidding with each other and how they were affectionate and fun with their spouses. They still are that way. The women are lovely and sexy. All of them are smart and funny and kind. And the guys are handsome, funny, and just all around good guys. They all laugh tremendously. And you can tell that they love their spouses. Many of them have been together for decades too.

I wonder if this is just a rare group. Is the rest of the world like what the others say? Are people really unhappy or are there others like my friends?

But it does reaffirm my faith in marriage to be around them. That there is hope that a relationship can last and last happily. My parents have been married almost 42 years. I would love to have that. It is just another thing on my list of things I want for my life. Another absolute reason for me to get well. Especially now that I feel like I have my priorities so in order. I know what is important in life. I know how important love is. And I have my lovely Zoe. She is so amazing and I really would love to share her life and her joy with someone else some day.

I saw this movie and they were talking about marriage. The character said that she's committed to her marriage because you need a witness to your life. I know that my life is at a really difficult point right now. This is the hardest thing I think I've had to deal with. But I still feel so blessed and so lucky. I still think I have a damn great life. And I think that I have so much to offer. So much joy to give. I would love to share it with someone. Finding someone and getting married again would be such a gift. I could only be so lucky. Really.

Plus I make a mean lasagna.

I can do this. But I am afraid of raccoons.

Your assignment today is to commit to having a good night. To do something different, wacky even. Our supperclub theme was "Don't wig out/hats off." It was fun. Maybe you could have a dinner party. Or eat in the dining room for a change and use that china that sits in the cabinet. Light candles. Make a recipe you haven't ever had before. Or go to a new restaurant that you've never been to before. Try a new type of food. Or just dress up in a different manner than you normally would and go somewhere. If you dress uber conservatively normally, find something sexy and go out on the town. Just make arrangements to have a good evening. One that you will never forget. Share your joy with someone else. Just for one night.

P.S. I wore a sassy redish/pinkish wig last night and it was really fun. I think I'm going to have to check them out. It was nice to not constantly think about being bald for a change and just talk to people. My thanks to the sexy Susan for the fun do.

Superstah!

It's another spendy the night party at casa_debu

Check out these pantyhose that Ms. Z does not want to remove from her bod

This is my favorite picture of all time. 4th birthday.

Nikki's in Charge

Your assignment for me is to write down: 30 things that make you laugh.

30? Wow. I no particular order.

1. Zoe's funny jokes. She's funny a lot, especially when not on purpose.
2. My Monkey Boy - 24/7. He's dorktastic like me.
3. The movie Princess Bride
4. That bit on Monty Python where they sing "Every sperm is sacred. Every sperm is great."
5. Shoshie's Yiddish Lessons
6. When Zoe says music, she says it like muse-kick.
7. My nephew. He's 5. He knows more about planets than anyone I know. I swear he will work for NASA some day.
8. My friend Meerkat. Especially her status messages on Yahoo.
9. David Letterman's Top 10
10. When Zoe tries to tickle me. It doesn't tickle, but she thinks it does so I laugh.
11. My Sis #2 makes me laugh until I snort. Her comments are damn funny too.
12. The Sarcastic Journalist, Y at Joy Unexpected, The Manolo's Shoeblogs, Piehole, the girls at Go Fug Yourself, and Ms. Pants. They are all too danged funny for words.
13. My friend Ctal's posts. She's funny without trying too hard.
14. Zoe doing yoga. We called it Zo-ga.
15. Arrested Development
16. South Park
17. Steve Martin, Bill Murray, Will Ferrell
18. The Muppets
19. Bull Durham. Especially Tim Robbins.
20. Zoe typing on the computer. She types I love you Debby Mommy and cat, dog and zoo
21. Political parodies. Especially on Southpark
22. The links Sis #1 sends me. Always the most graphic and hilarious. Especially the Paris Hilton one.
23. Hanging with Sis #3. She always knows funny stuff.
24. That movie She's Having a Baby, with Kevin Bacon
25. Zoe singing to herself in the tub
26. The Sister's comments. And Neil Sadaka
27. All things Hasselhoff
28. Kathy Griffin
29. When my three brothers all get together. They make you laugh until your stomach hurts.
30. Something else. Monkey Boy knows. He heard me laughing.

Ok. My 30 are posted. I bet I have about 300 more.

Me? Well I'll Be Hiding

Yesterday I got a call from my case manager. She is a nurse that works for my insurance company who calls to check on me when I've been discharged from the hospital. She usually asks where I am in my treatment and how I'm feeling. She's a pleasant enough person, but yesterday she hit me with a dose of reality.

When she described the chemo and radiation I am about to receive, she said that looking at those patients is like looking at someone who has been through Hiroshima.

Hiroshima. Thank you. I needed that.

She talked about how most of the time the patients just ended up being sedated and sleeping as they are so sick. She said how great it was to see those patients later on because they looked so different and so healthy, but I still was stuck on the word Hiroshima.

I am the type to undermedicate. I feel like I take so much stuff already, that if I don't need it, I don't want it. And I'm really weird about being incapacitated. I don't like to be doped up or given something that will make you sleep. I like to know what is going on. So the thought of day after day of drug-induced sleep is really unsettling.

Yesterday I hid. That last chemo med, The Red Devil, has made my stomach feel terrible. Most of the day I try to ignore it, but last night I finally gave in and just went to bed so I wouldn't have to feel the pain.

But there are days where I do just want to hide. To sleep. So I don't have to think about this. I just want to sleep through it all for the next six months. Maybe that's why I've been watching tv lately. To zone out. To block this whole nightmare out of my head. But it just doesn't feel healthy.

Perhaps that is why you lose your hair. So that every time you look in the mirror, it is a huge reminder that you can't run or hide. That you are sick. That you do have a challenge to face.

But how do you face Hiroshima? How do you do this without freaking yourself out? I want to hide, but I can't. So I watch GI Jane. I talk to my friends. I make myself get out of bed. I look at pictures of Zoe. I write. I pray.

And most days this works. I don't know what will happen. I know this wont be the last time I feel like this.

I think this weekend I will take a break.

I can do this. I just wish I could sleep in.

Your assignment is a sentimental fun one. I'm feeling sassy. I want you to kiss your significant other today. Kiss them like you did in the beginning. Kiss them like you mean it. If you don't have a significant other, I want you to do some flirting. Find someone to flirt with today. Like do some Olympic flirting. Go out somewhere tonight, dress cute, and just flat out pick someone up. You don't have to do anything beyond that, just flirt. If you have a significant other, maybe go out on a date this weekend. Remind them why you got together in the first place. I'm in isolation, so for now, I'll flirt vicariously through you all. Besides *gasp,* there are much better things to do in bed than hide.

Daytime. She's a Bad Mutha

I'm now watching the Hughes brothers movie "American Pimp."

This is what my life has become.

I'm now learned in the ways of Pimp-ology.

"She's got to be a thorobred"

"She may give me 50% or she may take 60%. Because if she gets popped, I need to have the money to get that bitch out. But then I'm gonna take the rest."

"A real ho is going to take to it like a fish to water."

"A real ho may want to travel. It's going to take a pimp to take her there."

"A $5,000 trick is going to get her excited."

"You may need to promise to marry her to get her to the track."

"A pimp's love is true love. When you are a pimp, your mind has to be conditioned to sacrifice your woman."

"You've got to pimp accordingly. Because a ho will take advantage of you."

"You've got to have a first string and a second string of hos."

"You've got to have respect for the game. You don't come out all guns blazin'. My mouth is like an oozie. You've got to be able to talk it out to settle your business."

"I will lay my pimp hand down if I have to. I will comb her head. Maybe that will make a ho get serious about my money."

"There's woman that thought you didn't love them if you didn't whoop them. If you show them that you gonna stay on them like a rock, then you gonna have a good hooker."

I'm just in the wrong profession.

"There's no business like ho business."

Conga Rats

Congrats to my girl The Sarcastic Journalist.

She and her power cooter just pushed her son out in four pushes. He's totally beautiful. I can't wait to find out his name so she can stop calling him Little Jizzy.

If you've never read her, you should check her out. The girl makes me crack up.

Am I the Only One

that doesn't like that Black Eyed Pea song "My Humps?"

I don't even want to know what that's about.

Does this mean I really am old now that I am not getting the new songs?

Trust

What would you do if you were stopped in your tracks? If life as you knew it changed in just a second?

No one ever really thinks about it, do they? (unless they are really morbid)

Funny thing is that before I was diagnosed, I used to think "live life for today because you could be hit by a bus tomorrow." And just two days ago, a woman was run over by a Metro bus here and died. And me. I was crossing the street a few years ago and was nearly hit by a bus - big time close call. And I thought it had changed me, but it really didn't. Not that much.

Because for most of us, you just go along, doing your day-to-day and you don't really think about what you'd do if something happened to you. Most of us stress, work, go to church, raise kids, sleep and do it all over again. It's like the living dead. I did it for years.

I think the hardest thing for me is losing your independence. I'm sitting here waiting on Sis #1 to bring me some groceries and lunch. I need people to give me rides. To pick up my mail. To shop for me. For years I took care of everything. I was the mom. And now, it's like I am a child. And it's hard.

It's hard to allow people to take care of you. Nurses, family, friends, strangers. It's hard to let people love and support you. It's hard to need people. It's hard not to be in control of things. Especially when you are as stubborn as I am.

To me it's like that lesson I learned with God. That sometimes, when you can't control a situation or it is too much for you, you just have to give that one up to God and let him deal with it. To have faith that things will happen the way they are supposed to. Good or bad.

There is so much in this situation that I cannot control or manage. I have had to just let go and not worry. There are so many people that take care of me that it's like each person takes a little bit of that worry and then it's not like one has to carry too much weight. To share the weight of the debu_worry. I try to think of it like that.

After I wrote the entry about losing hope, I got this lovely email:

There isn't anyone on the face of the earth that does/could love you any more than me. My faith and hope couldn't be any stronger. I've read this stuff; I know the risks; I know the possibilities, good and bad. But my faith is beyond strong; my hope, endless. Based on everything I can read, I am very very hopeful. I don't know what else to do.

I think this is part of the lesson that my cancer is teaching me. That I'm not alone. That I don't have to do everything by myself. That while worry is natural in this situation, it's not my place to do it.

This is a hard lesson to live. To open up to the love that everyone has for me. You feel like there is no way that you can repay everyone for their goodness, their kindness, their generosity. But I think the way that I repay it is to get well.

And then to carry this favor on. To encourage people to help others. To show my "Zeeskyte" Zoe the boundlessness of love and kindness and the generosity of spirit. I have been given a gift and I need to pass that gift on. It's an obligation I've been given, but hardly a burden.

I can do this.

Today your assignment is to disrupt your schedule. To do something out of routine. Eat breakfast for dinner. Take a new route to work. Skip the spinning class and go play with your kids in the park. Read a book at Starbucks. Try a new restaurant with friends. Make a lasagna from scratch vs. frozen. Go out in the middle of the week. Do something out of your norm. Because there sure are a lot of buses.

Reason #13940238 why I am going to live:

Ms. Pants: dude.
Ms. Pants: shut up.
Ms. Pants: you're gonna live.
Ms. Pants: you're an amazon.

deb_u: lol

Ms. Pants:: don't make me try to kick your ass

deb_u: i know

Ms. Pants: cos you could totally take me.
Ms. Pants: and then i'd have to admit that i got beat up by a bald girl
Ms. Pants: with an iv bag.
Ms. Pants: that would just look really bad.

You can't die when you have loving friends that are this damn funny.

Over

Thank You, God.

I'm home.

I'm done.

I am tired.

I am full of Taco Cabana. Yum.

You never know how much you miss your own bed until you get back into it.

Your assignment today (or this week) is to give blood. If you can, give it. If you've never done it, go do it. If you can't do it, get someone else to do it. If you are organized, organize a blood drive. I'm not kidding. I so am not.

Giving blood - I know it's a scary thing to do. I know it's a time consuming thing to do. Needles suck. Trust me, I got stuck a minimum of 12 times or more a day.

If you are scared, think about all the little kids with cancer who get stuck all the time too. They have no choice. They are little. They don't understand. But it ends up being the life you lead. It hurts, but after a while, you just give in to it and it becomes your life. You're black and blue, but you just do what you have to do. You do what you do to get better.

And what I needed to get better today was another unit of blood. My doctor said there was such a shortage that she had patients who were bleeding and still weren't able to get blood. (you usually have to wait until after the surgeries are done before you can get some). My unit arrived after 2pm. I woke up feeling horrible because my red counts were in the dump (red cells bring oxygen to your body - when they are low, you have zippo energy). If I didn't get my unit today, I'd still be in the hospital bed feeling lousy.

So. Please give blood if you can. Thank you.

I Slept with your fiance... is he my baby daddy?

It was getting a little heavy around here. I had to turn on Maur-ee. It's all about the lie detector tests today. This should be fun.

After having sex with my sister, will you still cheat?
"Tabitha always smells my boxers and says they smell like sex," says Brian. Turns out Brian hasn't been faithful to Tabitha whatsoever. So even though Tabitha is "crazy with the pregnant hormones" aka knocked up by Brian, she is ready to divorce him. Wonder if that will truly be the case?

Is mom right? Is her son in love with a cheater?
"She's a nasty little wh*re, and is sleeping around on my son, I am not going to take it anymore. She was tongue kissing her uncle... You don't tongue kiss your uncle." says Tujuana. "One day I was in the supermarket and this guy came up to her to ask her for a receipt for an abortion she had."

Monique says "I'm sick and tired of being accused by this woman. I love her son Anthony and we are going to be together no matter what you accuse me of." (Monique lives with Anthony at his mom's house). Monique does not pass the lie detector test and Tujuana says, "It's going to be a cold winter now that you're homeless." Guess it wasn't her "uncle," and that the "supermarket guy" was someone she slept with. Also turns out that Monique has been prostituting herself. The lie detector test wasn't necessary. Monique was sweating like a hooker in church.

I slept with Euneeka; Cedric, are you the father of her baby?
Euneeka AND her mom come out, scream at Cedric, call him all kinds of names. "Where were you, you piece of *&%^$, when my grandbaby needed diapers, formula, medication? You got my daughter pregnant (??!!! she had no part??!!), now you are going to pay you $#@^% !@&%$#!!!!" Talk about some babymammadrama.

Now granted Cedric is engaged to another girl, and he did sleep with Euneeka, but wants to hear those magical words, "Cedric, you are NOT the father." And yes. Cedric does get his wish. And he gets to keep his fiancee who is going to stick by him. Euneeka and her skanky mom sulk off the stage. I bet Euneeka gets her ass kicked when she gets home.

Double Trouble. She cheated. Are the twins his?
Yes. He is. And they hug and cry and are so excited. Who cares that she cheated on him and had to have a DNA test to prove she lucked out? Obviously they don't. Nor do we.

I've never watched a show that has more bleeps than words before. Isn't Maury married to Connie Chung?

I also know how I can become a:
Medical assistant (woo, I can change pee pans for you Debu)
Airplane Mechanic
Chef
Art Institute Student
Criminal Justice Assistant
Medical Transcriptionist from home
Pharmacy Tech

I now know how to live with genital herpes. Lose weight now through lap banding surgery. Draw logos and become a graphic designer. And I now want to eat my weight in Toll House cookies. Damn you Nestle.

I just can't make this up.

Did you just feel your brain explode?

I can't wait for Dr. Phil. Maybe he will have girls with low self esteem on today.

Loves

Warning: This is the one where she talks a little bit about *whispers* dying.

I'm thinking this will be a bit unfocused as I started with the red koolaid chemo last night (aka THE RED DEVIL) and I didn't even feel up to Starbucks. Nothing sounds good to eat. Nothing. So it was cheerios and bananas this morning. Writing on no caffeine is rather scattered for me. Bear with me. I hope to not have to "varp" this out.
-----------------------

How connected to the cancer world do I really want to be?

I have been writing for years about what it's like to be a single mom; writing about life and Zoe, about working, dating, friendships, heartaches, and the uber bizarro freaks I have met on the internet. Before October 22, 2005, I had a rather mundane life, sometimes funny, mostly sweet, sometimes sad, but it didn't revolve around this horrific central theme of cancer. The big C.

My days now are slow. I surf the net and read. I read all day. I pray. I don't watch too much television if I can help it, and I get interrupted too often to really concentrate on reading many books. So I surf the net.

And while I still read my daily hilarious reads online, I now find that I'm reading what I call cancer blogs. Blogs by those currently going through cancer, cancer survivors, and unfortunately many blogs by those who have since died from cancer. I read the Leukemia and Lymphoma forum, and people email me links all the time to other cancer resources. I get emails all the time from people who have been there done that.

And I wonder, is this good for me or am I just enveloping myself in this world? Is it all hitting too close to home? Do I want to know what is coming up with this bone marrow transplant or do I want to hide and just kind of take it as it comes.

The more I read, the more afraid I am of this transplant. The more I dread this. Even the ones that have a good outcome still have all kinds of problems. Even those that are years out still have all kinds of issues. Or have been through hell. The process is a huge pain in the ass. It's major chemo, radiation, big time isolation for about a month or more in the hospital, then about 100 days of appointments. And I need a full time caretaker (UG!) during all of it. I'm not even thinking about working after this and what will happen to my job.

I guess I should just shut it, because it's not like it's an easy thing. I'm sure God has something in mind for me with this, but why does it all have to be so scary? So hard? So uncertain?

Does reading about this stuff somehow take my hope away? Sometimes it feels that way. I want to be hopeful. I want to be cured. I want to get out of this world of the Big C. I know it will be with me forever, but I don't want it to be the sole focus of my life. There are so many other things I am looking forward to. So much life I want.

And reading these blogs and Lance Armstrong's book (he mentions this), sometimes those who are fighters and positive and hopeful, well they die anyway. And sometimes the most crotchety, lame, negative bastards... live. No sense whatsoever.

I really try hard to focus on me. As a patient. Not what anyone else has experienced. Not by any other statistics or survival rates. Not by my disease. But me. And most days that is enough, but some days I wonder. Some days I think, "is my determination enough?" I know I can be strong enough to get through this, but will I survive this?

One of the things I read that hit most close to home, was written by my now (beloved - I'm adopting them) Sarah sister's.

"Sarah's biggest fear was not for herself, but for those of us she would leave behind. I now know why Sarah was afraid."

It's the most truthful and poignant statement I have read. Sitting here in my room. Getting these treatments. Is so easy in comparison to what those that love me are going through. The ones that love me have hope and faith, but I still know it is agonzing for them. It angers them. It aches them. I hear the fear in their words sometimes. I know I see it in their faces and their actions. I see this so much when I'm with Zoe. I see how much she wants to be with me. And how hard it is to see the changes in the way I look. She doesn't understand and it hurts me to see this.

And I wish that I could just wrap my arms around them and tell them it will all be ok. And I want to, but there is no guarantee. They want to comfort, support and love me, yet I feel like I should be the one making it ok for them. But no matter how strong I am, it just might not be enough.

I walked downstairs yesterday and saw this old man in the hallway sobbing. I don't want people to do that for me. Ever. I hate to see anyone cry here because it makes me wonder who is crying for me.

I want to have faith. I want to be strong. To be hopeful. I need to keep these things in my life. I want this transplant to work because I'm not done with my life. I just am NOT. I have Zoe. She is so little. She is just now starting her life and I don't want to miss it. We have so many things that we are supposed to do together.

I also want for so many other things in my life. I have faith that these things will happen. I just wish I could have the same unwavering faith in this transplant. I'm not sure if there really is anything else that can be done but pray and try to remain focused on what I need to do. Today. And then just to do it.

I can do this.

I will do this. Because my love for you is unwavering and certain. And because if I don't, Monkey Boy is going to come to Houston and kick my ass. And when he tells me that, I laugh so hard it makes it all better.

I tried really hard to come up with a good assignment for today. I couldn't. I'm sure it's the lack of caffeine and the subject matter. I think today YOU should come up with a few assignments.

P.S. I think of Sarah as my angel too.

Spilled Milk

Yesterday started off as kind of a crap day. I've only been getting like 3-4 hours of sleep a night. Which is making me supa cranky. Supa tired.

So they wake me up at 4:30-5:00am for the blood draws. And then I make my wandering trek down to Starbucks for the Iced Latte of Life. It's not that far, but it seems really far when you are tired as heck and dragging your IV tower with you.

I get back to my room after taking a few sips and set my cup down only to have it spill all over the floor. AH!!! Noooo!!! I totally cried. CRIED??!!! Over my Starbucks??!! That is so non-Uma like.

I should have known it was going to be one of those days.

Round 5 isn't going that bad. I'm having some side effects, but the Uma in me is refusing to give in to them. Mostly I'm just in need of about 5 hours a night more sleep. I can barely finish my latte this morning.

[aside] Augmentin, the antibiotic, is the Spawn of the Devil. My body is so hating it. Necessary evil, but still... give me something that doesn't make me feel like I'm going to hork 24/7.

But yesterday was also just bittersweet for me. My sweet Monkey Boy cheered me up as usual and made me laugh hysterically. I swear the nurses must think I'm crazy. And I got some visitors. My Meerkat had visited the night before, and Christine came bearing gifts - the gift of Pappasitos Salad. And fun stories and laughter. Not to mention the fixer-upper-upgrader of my blog stuff.

Right as Christine called me to say she was here though, they suprised me with a test I had to go do. Chemo is a bastard. It can do so many things to your internal organs. They give you as many meds as they can to prevent some of this, but sometimes.. well sometimes... that chemo, she is no good.

So this test was a scan of my heart. To make sure that the chemo hasn't damaged it. They hadn't really scheduled it correctly so the nuclear medicine tech had to make a special trip in just for me.

The transport guy brought me down in a wheelchair because they can't let you walk anywhere. I so don't dig this, but this time he just sat me in the hallway like some kind of cattle. I was so tired, and I knew that Christine was waiting for me. The tech was mixing up meds when Sis #2 called me. She had her 5 year old with her and my Zoekat. I told her I was having a test done and it would be an hour.

Then I sat there and cried. Cattle in the hallway. Exhausted. Scared of this test. Scared of the results. Wanting for my Zoe so much. Wanting for my lunch (hey, it was like 2pm already). Wanting to see my sister, my neice, my friend.

But mostly wanting to not be a cancer patient. Wanting to be anywhere but sitting in a hallway bawling my head off as strangers walked by to look at me and wonder what was wrong.

The tech was nice, but kind of scatterbrained. And he couldn't find a vein to save his life, having stuck me 4 times in my hands. I got a nice little blown out vein in my left hand now, and I am black and blue on the other hand. Makes it fun to type.

The actual test was long, but not so bad once he finally figured out that the second injection of radioactive something or other actually worked. When it was over he showed me the results and he said that they looked good - and they were confirmed this morning by my doctor. Yeah for healthy, strong, cancer-butt kicking heart results.

I thanked the tech for coming in special on a Saturday. He apologized and said he was sorry he hurt me with all the injections. I told him it was ok because I was praying (and man was I) and that it was an important test. He said he had been praying too.

I finally was brought back up to my room, and was surprised to find out that Christine and my Sister ran into each other (they actually are old friends from way back - kind of a small world thing as I read her blog for years before we both had the small world moment that we knew one another)

So I grabbed my IV tower and boogied on down to see my girls. It was soooo sweet to see them. And Zoe was just as bubbly and five year old as ever. She is so "shana" it's not funny. We grabbed my salad and went to the cafeteria. Those moments truly just make the other stuff seem so minor. They disappeared.

Zoe had a moment though. A rip my heart out of my chest moment when my sister said they needed to get going. She saddled up to me and said she was sick. And then hugged me like there was no tomorrow. I smothered her in kisses and pulled her into me. Up into my lap. And we sat there for what seemed like the longest time, even though it was mere minutes. That girl is so my heart. I miss her every day. And I live for her hugs and kisses. To smell the top of her head and to hold her in my arms. To feel the strength of her little body and to feel her sadness as she needs me. She held my hand. I remembered that I am simply Mommy. Not sick mom, but Zoe's mom. It felt so good to be that.

As we made our way out to say goodbye, Zoe and her cousin asked for some change for the fountain. They snatched up my Starbucks quarters and pennies and both sat by the fountain throwing in the coins.

"If you don't throw them in, your wishes won't come true," Zoe said.

I asked her what she wished for.

"That this place was Disneyland." The she thought for a few seconds and said, "And that everyone that is sick in the world gets better."

I wish for this too, my love. I really do.

I can do this. My Zoe needs me to.

Your assignment for today is to turn the bittersweet into sweet. Some days it seems as if everything is just going the wrong way. Things can get so overwhelming at times. And the things that bug us, really bug us. Traffic, problems at work, lines in the supermarket, children acting like, well, children, frustrations hit us every day. And we can't and will never be able to change any of these things. They will always be there. But we can change how we react to them.

I used to have a three hour daily commute. And it was frustrating as all get out. But I played this game in my head that say if I missed the light, then perhaps that meant that I wasn't meant to get the green on that one. That perhaps I was missing being in a wreck per chance. It was kind of silly, but I stopped getting frustrated in traffic. I also used that time to return phone calls (hey, you are going like 5 mph for hours), and it became a time of day to connect with my friends and my parents. I sort of miss my phone time.

I want you to look at today and not let it get to you. To seek out the sweet moments and make more joy with them than to focus on the bitter. No one can frustrate you if you don't allow it to happen. And soon you will be able to more easily recognize these moments and let them go. Life is much sweeter when you focus on your joys.

In honor of my good test results and the sweetness and "glik" in my life, I wanted to post the lyrics to this song I just love. Today it really just means so much to me.

WARREN ZEVON
Keep Me In Your Heart
written by Warren Zevon & Jorge Calderón

Shadows are falling and I'm running out of breath
Keep me in your heart for awhile

If I leave you it doesn't mean I love you any less
Keep me in your heart for awhile

When you get up in the morning and you see that crazy sun
Keep me in your heart for awhile

There's a train leaving nightly called when all is said and done
Keep me in your heart for awhile

Sha-la-la-la-la-la-la-li-li-lo
Keep me in your heart for awhile

Sha-la-la-la-la-la-la-li-li-lo
Keep me in your heart for awhile

Sometimes when you're doing simple things around the house
Maybe you'll think of me and smile

You know I'm tied to you like the buttons on your blouse
Keep me in your heart for awhile
Hold me in your thoughts, take me to your dreams
Touch me as I fall into view
When the winter comes keep the fires lit
And I will be right next to you

Engine driver's headed north to Pleasant Stream
Keep me in your heart for awhile

These wheels keep turning but they're running out of steam
Keep me in your heart for awhile

Sha-la-la-la-la-la-la-li-li-lo
Keep me in your heart for awhile

Sha-la-la-la-la-la-la-li-li-lo
Keep me in your heart for awhile

Keep me in your heart for awhile

while waiting - a meme

Nothing better than a meme to do while waiting for a bag o' chemo and some graphic details.

This one came via Kim. Tag I'm it.

Four jobs I've held:

- Conference Coordinator/Receptionist for a private foundation. Was my favorite job I've ever held. I learned how to be a good boss here. And then when I was the boss (at another place), I was a really good one.

- Marketing Secretary for Pepsi in Austin. Got lots of cool stuff and got to plan some really interesting events. Went to Tahoe with clients for a Superbowl party. Big time blast.

- Dorm Housekeeper for the Dallas Cowboys during summer training camp in Austin. I quit after one day because they were some nasty dudes. Then I worked security which was much more sanitary. Although I did carry Troy Aikman's helmet and shoulder pads. He was nice and fairly sanitary too.

- Senior Managing Editor - (current job) environmental remediation firm. Basically I read about toxic waste for a living. It's a good gig actually and I miss it. I read documents written in "engineer-ese" that go to the EPA and state regulators.

Four movies I can watch over and over:

- Moonstruck
- The Natural
- Bull Durham
- Jerry Maguire
(I guess this means I'm a sucker for romance and baseball?)

Four places I've lived:

- Anchorage, Alaska
- Austin, Texas
- Myrtle Beach, South Carolina
- Phoenix, Arizona

Four TV shows I love to watch:

- Project Runway - I'm with Kim on this one. Then I like to read the recaps on The Scarlett's and Manolo's sites. And then I check out the photos on the Bravo site. I'm addicted to high fashion. But I shop at TJ Maxx and Marshall's.

- Medium - I think Patricia Arquette is fantastic on this show. I like that it's not all about the icky crimes, and she seems like a typical wife and mom. Plus it's based on a true person, which is really cool to me.

- Rescue Me - Dennis Leary is great in this show. Some of the stories make me cry, but then they always have something that will crack you up.

- Martha Stewart - I'm not getting into her criminal history here, but I just really like her. She's always making some great thing or another. I'd love to look like her when I'm sixty. Heck, I'd love to look like her now.

Four websites I read daily (I read a lot more than four):

Maison Pants
Blogging for a Cause
Sarcastic Journalist
Piehole

Four places I have vacationed at or at which I've vacationed:

Mine are so not as glamourous as Kim's

Cancun, Mexico
New York City
Westpoint, NY
Denver, CO

Four favorite foods (just 4?):

- Pappasitos Grilled Fajita salad. I crave this. Daily.

- My Mom's potato salad. If I were on a desert island. Well I'd be sad, but I would want my mom's potato salad. It makes me happy. As does my mom.

- Steak. A great filet. Medium rare. Mortons, Pappas, Salt Grass, My Bro in Law #1. All cook a mean steak.

- My lasagna. It's bombdiggity. And weighs like 20 lbs. I amaze even myself with this. It's like a work of art. And takes about two days to make.

Four places I'd rather be (um. anywhere but this hospital room):

- Housewise - my "kholem" would be to be anywhere with my loves
- Creatively - painting with Zoe and Monkey Boy
- Consumerly driven - I want shoes. New ones. Stylish and sexy. And a few more sneaks
- Visually - Vermont.

Four peeps to tag:

I can't put that kind of pressure on anyone. But I think I should tag the chicas from SWLF. Or if you do it, leave me a message so I can check your fours out.

We Be Updating

I just want to write. I need to write. It's by far cheaper than therapy. I don't know if I'm very good, but that's not really the point. It makes me feel better. And that's all that matters, especially right now.

My blog isn't all kinds of fancy schmancy. I basically write and have a few links. Well, something is freaking out my linky-poos. Probably because I don't know how to do anything fancy like updating the version of Movable Type or install cool codes. I don't even have any other skins and I like it that way. I like my girly, pink flower. And my non ad-laden site. I'm just debu. Mom to Zoe. Aunt Deb. Sister. Daughter. Catholic. Editor. Queen of the Universe (hey, that's on my checks, for real, yo!), International Sucky Spy. And now cancer-ass-kicker.

So. We here at debutaunt might be a little under construction. My links appear and disappear. But my writing. She is intact. She gets backed up. And that's about all that matters to me.

So don't be scared if you come round and things are a little wonky. It may look different, but it's still me. I'll still be here.

Writing and ass kicking.

Round five. So far so good. Very little sleep, but I hauled my tired, bald self down to Starbucks to get that latte goodness that makes my day most lovely.

I'm currently hooked up to like 12 bags of stuff. I don't care what it is, because it will make me well. I'm so glad my kidneys work because I'm totally on fluid overload. Which is really fun when you have your own male nurse, aka murse, to come in and measure your pee. Not that that is humiliating or anything. Especially by dudes. Especially also when you have to ask them some really personal questions about girl parts. Or have them hook up your lines and they kind of see your bra and stuff. Damn I'm shy. And a dork.

I've had murses for two days. They are nice, and very detail oriented. My night murse used to be an engineer. He did all kinds of swirly and magical things to my lines. It looks very complicated.

I want a real salad. Their salads here are very cafeteria-like. I want a salad of substance - not just cucumbers. But moreso, I want some chocolate cake like nobody's business; but these steroids are making my sugar levels go insane. Makes me not want to eat anything, but that wouldn't help either. Mmmm. Cake.

Well, just wanted to give you all a heads up about the construction stuff. I don't know what will happen, but I really do like my links, and I'd like to get them back.

Your assignment for today is to eat a dessert. If you can, eat something decadent. If you are on the wagon, go pick out a great piece of fruit. Enjoy that like it's the most delicious dessert imaginable. Take your time eating it. Don't eat it around distractions. If you are at work, close the door. If you have a household full of kids, wait until they are alseep, or eat it for breakfast. But just enjoy it. Because you can. Life is too short not to eat desserts once in a while. And if it makes you feel guilty, get your butt out for a walk. That's the greatest twofer ever.

And in this Corner - Round 5

I'm here and I'm going to kick its ass.

Because it's my last one. Last chemo before they move forward with the big ol' transplant project.

I just got hooked up to a bunch of stuff. I should get my first chemo drug at about 1:00am. I waited nearly 8 hours to get in this room. I was ready to 'plotz.' At least I don't have the dreaded granny can, but this room is tiny, I have bad cell phone reception, and the AC is loud. I don't mind it. I am fierce. I can handle any crappy conditions. This is nothing.

I have my laptop. My Zoe Oranga-matang. My rosary. My loves. My Monkey Boy's Team in Training Jersey. My Texans hat. My International Spy. My Kill Bill soundtrack. My napping blanket. A few dvds. And the most stylin' cute pajamas of all time.

I have all my fighting, Uma (or is it deb-uma) gear.

I can do this.

Your assignment for today is to get a visual reminder of how awesome you are. Draw a picture, make something, or find an object from a time in your life when you were really on top of it all and felt great about yourself. It should be something simple, but really meaningful. Put it in a place where you will see it every day. Bring it to work if you have to. Just a silent little reminder of why you are amazing, strong, and how you kick butt too.

"Happiness" and "The Angel of Healing" Two things I have in abundance right now.

P.S. I truly enjoyed the 'mitsve' sent to me via Suzie and Sarah's SWLF lovlies. What a nice surprise and a reminder of how I'm going to kick some butt. Thank you for the props. Comments from the kindness of strangers always make me smile. Just in time too.

Take My Rib

Dread. I dread that meeting. All my anxiety and fear. All my worry and sadness. All waiting to meet with Dr. Q and my transplant team. So many months of thinking about this meeting, and today was the day.

I am sitting there. Screaming in my head. Waiting for the doctor. And the only urge I have is to throw up. Like major hork action.

I busy myself and start reading my Bone Marrow Transplant Bible. It's a book that tells you all about the whole process. It has page after page of definitions. I'm reading about Graft vs. Host Disease. Stem Cell aspirations. Caregivers. And I feel like I'm about to pass out. I'm trying really hard to pull my shit together. I'm trying not to pass out, barf, and scream all at once.

I text Monkey Boy. I close the manual. I breathe. I focus. I Uma.

Dr. Q comes in and we talk a bit. Sis #1 asks all the legit questions and I feel like Shecky the Clown or something. Making jokes to mask my fear. We then talk to Amanda, my awesome transplant coordinator, and she fills us in on all the specifics.

I have to be four weeks clean of any chemo drug before they proceed with the transplant (e.g. because then I will get some heavy duty chemo and full body radiation aka the part where they kill me). But they don't want me to be too far out from the last chemo so that the disease doesn't have an opportunity to come back.

So it comes down to my leukemia doctor, Dr. T.

Do I go in tomorrow for Round 5 or do we proceed towards the transplant?

So. Here I am. I'm packing. I get admitted tomorrow for Round 5. Five. Five. It looms large. I feel like I just got out. Which, pretty much, is true.

The chemo doesn't get me, but the lonliness does. And I sure as fuck better figure out how to get over that before I get admitted for my transplant. I am coming close to finding the end of the internet.

And then I logged in. I sat here and read your comments through tears. Love. I thank you for the love. There is no way to express how much it all means to me. I get sad and then I read... "stay on target" or the love and support of the many strangers sent my way. Like old friends, they are.

I am going to bring my Kill Bill video. It's been a long time since I've had a dose of Uma to go along with that dose of chemo.

I can do this. I have you.

Your assignment (hey, two posts in a day) is to get dressed up. Dressier than normal. Like when you show up at work, they will think you have an interview somewhere else. My chicas, I want you to wear makeup and something sassy. Or if you are a dude, some cologne and a shirt you had to iron. And I want you to go through your day with your head held up high, feeling and looking good. I pulled a fake it today. But I pulled it off. And this day is now over. And I feel relief.

Be fabulous today. Because you all make me smile.

Oh. It's a close race.

VOTE FOR ME

I may not inspired you, but I'm often quite the dorkfus.

Today I found out that I got credit for fourteen units of blood/platelets. How cool is that?? I'm sure there are some unaccounted for, but I still think that's damn awesome. I know that when I'm sprung and all well, that I can truly make a difference and I plan on getting a lot more blood from you people.

Reasons for the Seasons

I feel like I have been paralyzed by sadness for the past few days.

I have a few reasons. One more than most. It's just too sad and I don't want to talk about it. I might later, but right now, I just wont. I'm not.

I've been in my room too much. It's my security. Just to sit in here and be surrounded by my sadness, my lonliness. My only connection to others is my computer. Sometimes the phone. It's safe here. It's safe to hide out. It's safe, but it's not good for me. Really not good for me or my healing. Being sad is unacceptable. I can't let it rule me, make me afraid. Make me hide from my life. It is just not ok.

I'm staring right down the face of Round 5 this week. My counts are at the right point, I'm the right number of days out, and my transplant isn't going to be anytime soon (at least I don't think so). It's time.

But I'm not ready. It's too soon. It feels too soon. I feel strong and I hate to go back right now. I just want to feel strong for longer than a week. I want to be selfish. It's so hard to feel like crap, and just when you finally start feeling better, they make you feel like shit again.

Today is a big day. A huge day. HUGE! I meet with my transplant team for the first time. I'm nervous and yet excited. They will be the ones to decide if I go for Round 5 tomorrow. Hopefully they will give me more of a timeline for the transplant. To tell me more of what to expect. It's all so tentative, so unknown. Sis #1 is going to go with me. I'm glad. She takes good notes and asks good questions. I'm scared, so it will be such a relief to have someone else with me.

Zoe's dad flew in to see her for a few days. He's going to take her to the park today. I've been missing that child like crazy. I didn't get to see her this past weekend. There really wasn't a reason. I should have seen her. They even had a three day weekend. I just let my days get by me. And I need to make more of a point that I need to see her. I feel like I need it more than she does.

I don't know why, but I have been feeling like she's somehow forgetting me. She doesn't want to talk on the phone with me (or anyone for that matter). It feels like she's now used to me not being there, and she's so integrated into her new routine and household, that I'm barely a thought anymore. I think this is a big part of what is making me sad. I feel so disconnected from what is the major part of my life - being a mother. It all feels so far away from this room.

But it is what it is. And there isn't a whole lot I can do to change it.

I always believe that "things happen for a reason." We may not always know why at the time, but later on, when there is some time and distance from the event, it is then that we realize the why. And most times we are grateful. Thankful. In my experience, it's always been for the best. It doesn't feel like it at the time, but later on it always works out.

I wish I could know the why. I wish I could know that today. I'm trying really hard to remember the lessons. To remember the whys. And how it always works out somehow.

But today I just am sad. I can't see how any of this is happening for a reason. Today I am also just ... well, pissed off. I miss my child. I miss my friends. And my job and my life. I want to drive my car. I want to go on a date. I want to go somewhere on my own. I'm tired of the chemo. But mostly I'm tired of thinking about what will happen with this transplant.

I feel like me today. And I'm just stuck here. The big plan for the day - yay! Not shopping, seeing friends or playing with my daughter. But instead a meeting with the team that will tell me how they are going to practically kill me. A team that will tell me all the horrible things that will happen to me.

I need to reprogram my mind. I know this transplant is hope. It is the closest thing to a cure. But I just wish I could fast forward my life. I'm scared. This chemo has been so lonely for me. And the transplant seems like it will be ten times as lonely. I don't mind being alone, but it's hard when you can't go anywhere. This will be more hospital time. More isolation from people due to low counts. More side effects, bad ones. I just want it to be over with already.

It is what it is
It is what it is
It is what it is

Like if I repeat this it might sink in. I don't have any other option.

I will stop soon. I will accept this soon. I have support. I have love. Huge love.

And all of that means more than sadness. More than anger. More than fear.

I can do this. I have no choice. But at least I'm not alone. I just have to remind myself of that.

Today your assignment is to choose to be happy. To be strong. To overcome the mundane and choose to smile at strangers. To do something that will make you feel good. Take a walk. Get off the computer and do something good. Eat ice cream. Play with your kids. Take a lovely bath. Work out and kick your own ass. Buy real flowers. Do something nice for someone else. Get it in your head that today is going to be a good day and then make it so.

I plan on adjusting my attitude today. There is no titty baby in cancer ass kicking, remember?

And yes, the doctor did prescribe more cowbell. Thankya Longkiss for the awesome care package. Starbucks, softy blankies, cool hats and more cowbell should be a standard prescription for all ills.

I have this urge...

to go out into the world wearing the pink feather boa that Kim sent me. I also have this great woven straw cowboy hat that my friend Susan sent. It's got this rhinestone star on it. Tres chic.

I want to paint images on my bald head, wearing a full face of super hot makeup. With some funky sunglasses. And wear a low cut shirt with no bra or a sexy bra that peeks out. And some of my fantastic jeans with some of my (now dust covered) towering sexy sexy heels.

I want to go out into the world and say... I have cancer, but I'm still fucking fabulous.

Except in Houston, there's no where to go.

Monkey Boy. Let's escape to Manhattan. I'd totally fit in there. I bet no one would even look at me twice.

The Work of Being Busy

My routine here is simple. Wake up whenever. Go into the other room and make coffee on my wee little coffee pot. Test my blood sugar. Get my meds out. Fix my coffee - light and sweet, so tasty. Sit down and eat my english muffin with peanut butter and drink my coffee. Take my meds. Turn on my computer and write.

Then I sometimes have a clinic appointment. Or I stay home and surf the net or watch tv. 10am - Martha; 11am - News; 12pm - Ellen, etc.

If you name a time of day, I'm sure I could tell you what's on. That's pretty sad. Although I did swear off any type of soap opera or judge show. I just can't go there. I think it would cause me to lose IQ points.

For about four years I have been a single mom. I never expected when I was married that one day I'd be a single mom, but it worked out that way. And I never realized until now how busy I was. How hectic my life was. We were always on the go somewhere. We were always rushing.

The only slow down time we had was bedtime. Zoe would take a bath and then it was Mommy/Zoe time. She, like her mom, is a "back rub ho." I love massages and genetically Zoe has inherited this. Every night we'd get her little baby lotion out and she'd help me rub it on. Then she would ask for a back rub.

Then we'd move on to story time. She was allowed to read 2-3 books a night. At this age, you can read them pretty quickly. We had our favorites, but right before I was diagnosed, she was all into this Princess/Disney book. It was the sweetest because she was just learning to read, and I'd let her read the words she knew. Then, every night, she'd beg me to sing to her. I had two special songs, and she never had to beg as I'd sing them regardless, but she just liked asking. I'd turn out the light and within about three minutes she was out.

The rest of my pre-leukemia days were full of hurry. Wake Zoe up, hurry to get dressed and ready for school. Hurry to the bus stop. Hurry to work. (I'm in Houston, with this traffic there is no fast) Work all day. Hurry home to pick Zoe up. Hurry to make dinner. Always pushing the clock.

We always seemed like we needed to go faster. And when I think about it, I just wasn't enjoying my life. I always felt like all I wanted to do was sit down with Zoe and paint. Or read books. Or spend time at the park.

Weekends were spent babysitting for Sis #1 and then running errands. Grocery shopping. Cooking for the rest of the week. And then Sunday night would roll around again and I had this huge sense of dread. Dread that Monday's work week was right there. Looming large. My weekend had disappeared.

Towards the end of "that life," I guess I didn't realize how truly sick I was. I remember a month of Sundays where I would have to take a nap. I mean, I just couldn't do the normal stuff that I usually did on Sundays. Zoe would pick out a video to watch and I would just pass out like a dead woman.

Now I have more time on my hands than I know what to do with. It's easy to fill with reading, writing thank yous, or surfing the net - as I have yet to find the end of the internet. I can spend all day chatting with friends. Or reading blogs. Or napping.

It's sad to me that this feels like a vacation. I'm not quite sure if I enjoy it, I mean I'd rather not be sick, lose my looks, and basically be confined in my room. But it is surprisingly relaxing. And for having cancer, you'd think I'd have more stress, but I don't.

But it does make me sad that my former life was so stressful. I ran on autopilot. I didn't enjoy it. I didn't live it. I don't think any "Supermom" does. I don't think anyone can.

I will never go back to that. To the point where I could actually have a major illness and be too busy or stressed to know it. To push my body to the point of exhaustion. I know that when I am done with this, one of the biggest priority changes is to listen to my body. To listen to my soul. And to take care of both.

We all are so busy. And I hear so much about how everyone is stressed out. But when you get stopped in your tracks like I did, and you realize that now you might be facing a death sentence, all you want to do is live. To enjoy each moment. You want to be in your old life with your new outlook.

I can't wait until all of this is over.

Because I am going to sit down with Zoe and paint.

I can do this. All the while watching Martha Stewart.

Today your assignment is to look at your life and ask yourself, am I enjoying this? Is there something I'm doing that is making me miserable? Am I stressed? Is there a hobby I have been putting off because I'm too busy? Do I workout and take care of my health? Do I take time to meditate or chill every day? Do a little priority checking and slow down. Now is the time. Because there might not be a later. Life is so fleeting, so you might as well enjoy it as much as possible when you have the opportunity.

That Betrayal Thing

Last night was dinner out with the girls. Celebration of the fabulous Meerkat's birthday.

They were all glowingly beautiful. My friends. Laughing and cracking jokes. I just love funny, smart women. I love to laugh. I love to just hang with them.

And it was so great to get out a little. To live a little and see life around me. Young people. Laughing people. Couples. Groups of men checking out the groups of women. Live bands. Cocktails and sipping beer. It was so alive there. So carefree.

As opposed to the place I hang the most. MD Anderson. Masked faces. Scared faces. Oxygen tanks. Thin, bruised patients. Wheelchairs. White coated staff. Blood draws. Hours of waiting. Anxiety. No one smiles. Rarely do you hear anyone laugh. And every single patient there knows the uncertainty. You have hope. You can fight. You can have the best treatment. But you still could die. It's always lurking. Always a thought in the back of your mind.

I don't think about dying very often. I really haven't. I guess it's because I do feel pretty good. And because I kind of just focus on today. I try not to think too much about what is ahead of me, and just ask.. "what is on the agenda for today?" "How do I feel today?"

The only thing really that reminds me that I'm a cancer patient is the betrayal of my body. The effects of this disease and it's treatment.

I was getting ready to go last night, and I dragged out my makeup. I used to have lots of it - little pots and tubes, powders and brushes. I love makeup. I'm a closeted girly girl. But when I got diagnosed I had to toss every bit of old makeup. No bacteria allowed. It was hard to get rid of it all; like saying goodbye to old friends. Saying goodbye to my old life.

So I sat in front of the mirror and brushed on some eye shadow. And I looked closer and got rather sad. I realized that I've lost most of my eyelashes and my eyebrows. Slowly they have thinned out. As I made up my eyes, I realized I don't look like my old self anymore. I finally look like a cancer patient.

The night before I took a long shower. I got out and looked in the mirror. The ever present central line on my collar bone ... gauze pads and the two tubes that hang down. I checked out the backside. I have scars on my ass from the bone marrow biopsies and aspirations. I have bruises on my spine and hips. I am black and blue from one side of my stomach to the other from all the shots. I haven't gained any weight, but somehow I am rounder. My muscle tone is gone, and I find myself struggling to do the little things now.

My skin is really dry from the chemo treatments. It was white before, but now it's transluscent. My hands are bruised from blood draws. And my nails have purple rings on them, from the toxic meds they give me.

And my head. My hair is not really growing. It's still falling out in spots. I forget that I'm bald until I catch fleeting glances in the mirror.

Or until I'm put in a social situation where I am the only bald woman around. Baldness is like a cloak of invisibility. I feel like myself at MD Anderson. There are lots of "balds" like me so no one really notices. I don't wear a hat and I just walk around like the old deb. But when I go into other situations, I am acutely aware of my bald head. People look at me and then look away. If I try to make conversation with strangers, they have the most uncomfortable look on their faces.

The only real "stranger" conversation of the evening was with a table full of medical students from Baylor here in town. We sat at this table outside, and the guy sitting next to me had a bald head. I asked him how he could be outside without a hat. He said he's not from Texas and is used to the cold. Then we started talking about my leukemia, and it turns out that guy actually had studied my exact form of leukemia. No wonder they weren't uncomfortable talking to me. My one non-self conscious moment of the evening.

I try really hard to remind myself that, again, this is all temporary. That my hair will grow back. That the bruises will fade. That one day I will be able to work out hard. I know this is true, but it doesn't hurt now any less. It hurts to look in the mirror and see a stranger looking back. It hurts to feel like you are invisible. It hurts to fend off stares and pity looks. It hurts to feel so far from me.

But then I look at pictures of Zoe. And I talk to my friends and family. And they aren't uncomfortable around me. They remind me that it is temporary. They remind me that they love me regardless. They just talk to me like ... Deb.

And then I do remember that it is only temporary. And that those who mind don't matter and those that matter don't mind. (Thanks Dr. Seuss) I'm bald. I'm sick. But not for long. Not always. Not forever.

I can do this. You all remind me of that every day.

Your assigment today is to accept yourself. So many people look at their bodies and say things like.. my ass is too big. My nose is too long. My _____ insert body part here. Well today is the start of accepting yourself, flaws and all. Or even better, if there is something you can do to change those flaws and make them better, do it. If you don't like that jiggle on your thighs, start walking or doing leg lifts to tone them up. It's just not acceptable to hate on yourself. Either love yourself, flaws and all or change them.

There is nothing I can do to make my hair instantly appear. There is nothing I can do about the bruises on my body or the missing eyelashes. But I can focus on my strengths and I can accept and love myself for who I am right now. There are much more important things in my life, like healing myself, living and enjoying my life, and spending time with my loves. This is what is important. Today I am going to remind myself of that. I hope you do too.

---------------------------------

P.S. Click here to VOTE FOR ME

(scroll down on the page to vote)

Hey. I got a nod for "most inspirational blog." That was kind of cool, but the only thing I really want to inspire people to do is to enjoy life, but the most important .. is to get people to donate blood and sign up for the bone marrow registry.

Vote for me. I'm sure not to win, but I'd at least not want to get my ass totally kicked. I'm Uma Thurman that way. Plus if it can draw attention to blood donation, etc. bring it on!! Bring it on!!

P.S.S. Welcome back to civilization my Monkey Boy. Enjoy the Tex Mex!

Sleep like there is no tomorrow

Up close and personal - the 3 hour drip

O Positive. Five units. Two units of platelets.

If you donate, you save someone's life. Period. It might not be mine, but you still are saving someone. I prayed today to bless the people who were generous enough to take time out of their lives to donate the blood which saved mine. It's overwhelming. It really is. I cry every time I get blood because I never in a million years thought that I would ever need a blood transfusion in my life.

And now I've had fourteen. Fourteen people have blessed me with the gift of life. Fourteen people have then blessed my friends, my family, my Zoe - those who love me as well. Thank you. Thank all of you who have donated. I don't think any of you could ever know how grateful the recipients are. How grateful that I can have another day that I can enjoy. Another day to spend with those I love. It's humbling. Thank you.

I'm home. It's late, but after I finished the last of the transfusions, I came home and showered, and I'm all jammied up.

I'm still overwhelmed. Kari sent me snacky cakes. Julianna sent a huge box of scrapbooking supplies. Sis #1 bought me this kickass cowboy hat. Todd sent a Starbucks card. Sally sent me two books I really wanted. You people are way too sweet to me. I never expected any of this. Too sweet. Too kind.

And my Monkey Boy. Ok. He's totally going to be a keeper. My Monkey Boy sent me an autographed picture of Uma Thurman in Kill Bill. Yellow jumpsuit, sword and all. Someone went way above and beyond the call of duty. I think he just likes me calling him Monkey Boy. Although I could not adore him any more that I already do.

There it was. Just a white 8 x 11 white envelope. So unassuming. I picked it up and opened it. A simple note. And then I smiled and started crying at the same time. A good cry. An exhausted cry. The picture was just the best thing to the end of my brutal three day trip to the hospital.

To come home, so exhausted, bone tired is the only way to describe it, to a huge pile of mail, cards, gifts, well I just feel so loved.

I can do this. You all remind me of why I need to. I cannot thank you enough.

A Few More Days

Well my counts are still low. I still get fevers at random times. And I'm going to need a few more units of blood. I don't mind getting them, because it makes me feel better when my counts go up, but I dislike the benadryl that they have to give you before the transfusions. I was grogged up all day yesterday.

[aside] Oh. Please, please, please give blood if you can. Drag someone with you to go. Because there are millions of people like me that really need blood. I have now needed 4 units of platelets and am about to receive my 10th unit of blood. I wouldn't be able to fight like the debu_warrior that I am if it were not for the random kindness of strangers (and some friends) who take their time out to donate blood. You literally would be saving someone's life if you did. Who knows, it could be mine.

I am feeling better than I did yesterday, but I'm still on bedrest. I have been trying to do leg lifts and stuff, but I feel really weak. I am hoping to get out soon, but they won't let me go until I have been entirely fever free for 24 hours. So it is looking at Thursday at the earliest.

After all these transfusions (4 units in the past two days), I am craving a steak like nobody's business.

I'm watching Boston Legal on the recommendation of Monkey Boy. I loved it. The storyline is about a man (Michael J Fox) who has terminal stage 4 lung cancer. On the show he's a wealthy businessman who tries to buy his way into a cancer study. He's being sued by another man who is dying of cancer as well.

They go to trial and the second man testifies that Fox basically has murdered him because the protocol study was compromised and cancelled. Fox tries to settle and the man says no way. Because if he took money it wouldn't hurt him and the only that that would, would be taking his time. Fox's lawyer walks out and says something I firmly believe in:

"Do not allow anger to consume the last days of your life."

I am a big believer in forgiveness. I actually gave a talk on the subject at a church retreat. And what he said is right.. anger does consume you. I can say been there, done that.

When my ex husband and I split, I was the meanest, bitchiest, most bitter woman of all time. How could I not be? The man that I loved cheated on me when I was eight and a half months pregnant with Zoe. Worse, is that I didn't find out about it until two years later when he received a letter in the mail requesting child support for a child he fathered while cheating on me.

How's that for consuming anger-worthy?

And for a while, I let it. But then I went on a church retreat and heard this woman give a talk on forgiveness. And it really was one of those lightbulb moments. My hate for him had no effect on him, but it had a huge one on me and Zoe. Happy mommy = happy baby, and I was not happy.

I was trying to punish him every chance I got. I was mean, rude and would remind him over and over how he destroyed our family. I?d insult him, and belittle him. He would not go one day without being reminded of what he did. It was like it was my mission in life to remind him too. It was my way to martyr myself. To be the angry scorned wife. To hurt him as bad as he hurt Zo렡nd me.

But then, I decided that if I didn't forgive him, truly forgive him, that my anger was going to ruin me. It had already changed my core being. It changed how I behaved with others. And the scariest was that it probably was affecting Zoe. I'm sure of it. How could it not?

So I forgave him. Like seriously forgave him. I let all the hatred and anger go. And it was the best thing I ever did. For me, for him, but especially for Zoe.

He lives in New York and our relationship is that of old friends. We made it all about Zoe and her best interest. We don't fight. We talk rationally. And we want the best for each other. Now you'd see donkeys flying out of my ass before I'd ever get back together with him, but I am civil and I care what happens to him and want him to have a good relationship with our child.

The guy on Boston Legal was dying, so they were saying you don't want the last days of your life to be filled with anger.

My point is, why wait until you are dying to get rid of your anger? I try to live each day as if it is my last anyway. Because you really never know - you could get hit by a bus or die of a heart attack or stroke and that's it.

I want each day to be the best that it can be. Life is too short to harbor grudges or be consumed by guilt or anger. And why would you want to? Why go on day to day being bitter and angry? Hating someone and holding on to that anger? What a horrible way to go through life.

Which leads into today's assignment:

Forgive someone today. You don't necessarily have to tell that person; you can just do it internally, or if you go out of your way to tell them and make up, just do it. It might be that you need to forgive yourself for a change. The point is to just let it go.

Ghandi said, ?The weak can never forgive. Forgiveness is the attribute of the strong.? Be strong today. Do yourself a favor and let go of the anger. Move on and live and choose to be happy.

You can do this. You will be better off for it.

sweetness. they're yours.

Counts

Well I'm getting some transfusions today. Apparently my counts have dropped alarmingly low. So low that I'm on bedrest.

No Starbucks for me.

Yay for Diet Coke and room service.

Live from New York It's...

MD Anderson.

It's 4:30 am. I just got a blood draw.

Yes, I'm in the hospital. I had labs yesterday and my counts were in the crapper. I had no fever, but was tired as a mofo.

So I went home and slept. And slept. And slept and slept.

I woke up around 6pm and felt like there was no way I could get up. I also got the chills so I took my temperature.

101.8. The dreaded feber. I thought maybe if I lay there for a bit longer with no covers on me that maybe it was just sleeping so much with my awesome Brookstone Napping Blanket. (best. blanket. ever.) So I wait 10 minutes and take it again. It's 102. Then 100. Then back to 102.

I have like no white blood cells to fight infection right now. Mine are at 0.2. A normal person has theirs between 4 and 11. So whatever this is, is kicking my bootie right now.

Anytime you have a fever like this, they tell you just to go to the ER. It took about four and a half hours, but then they admitted me. They do all kinds of tests and stuff, but I think it is from my sinuses. I have always had problems with mine and now I have a head that is all congested. Except for me, it's all blood. I know, disgusting, but that is what it is.

My sinuses were what caused me to be diagnosed. The headache that made me go to ER the day that I was diagnosed was caused by some majorly impacted sinuses. So me and my sinuses are old friends.

I now have had three vital signs taken with no fever. I would love to get discharged tomorrow, but I don't know since my white count is so low. She just hooked me up to this oxygen thingy that acts like a humidifier, so I totally look like a hospital patient right now - gown and all. It just sucks.

So anyway.. I can do this. I'm just annoyed.

I am in dire need of a Starbucks or ten. And some sunshine.

Moses

I have an 8am lab appointment today.

So I set my alarm. I didn't want to get up. So I flipped on the tv. It was set to a local channel, and there was a reverend on tv.

The first words I heard this morning were:

"If you push through the pain, you will find your real power on the other side."

I can do this.

That is a quote from a triathlete. Triathletes just kick ass. Makes me wonder if participating in one is in my future. For a while, I'll just be at the finish line waiting. With the Gatorade.

Cracked

Today was so bittersweet. I loved seeing my Zoe. I loved snuggling up with her and holding hands. Kisses all over my face. Just like old times.

But I'm hurting. Something is wrong with my sinuses and I am having these like bleeding nose episodes, like clots coming out when I blow my nose. I'm all stuffed up and I have bloody snot (how lovely is that). It gives me a huge headache. I'm going to check with my doctor tomorrow, but last time she just gave me allergy medicine.

I'm also so achy. My fingers are numb as are my toes. And I ache like I have the flu. I pretty much nap all the time. I also have to force myself to eat as I'm not hungry for much.

I hate this.

I hate having cancer symptoms. I hate feeling like a patient. Like something is wrong with me. I want to feel strong, and when I feel this bad it's like there's a chink in my armor. I don't like it.

I try not to complain or think about it. But I'm really having a hard time with this round's after effects. They are really bothering me. I don't like to talk about it. I almost wasn't going to write this, but it really has been on my mind these past few days.

I'm hoping that in a day or two I will start feeling better. Stronger. I need to be. I try so hard to be strong, but when I don't feel well, it is just discouraging.

I am afraid because I know when I have the transplant I will really be feeling punk. I can't fight when I'm hurting. I need to figure out what I can do to get past this. When I hurt, it makes me afraid. Afraid my body will betray me. Afraid the transplant won't work because I'm weak. Weakened.

I am going to think about being strong tonight. I am going to repeat it in my head over and over... I am strong. I can do this. I don't have pain.

I can do this. I can do this. I can do this.

Because there's no room for titty babies in cancer ass kicking, now is there?

Spendy the Night Party

Zoe got to come spend the night last night. My counts are pretty low, and I'm a little tired, but she's not sick so it was ok. Pizza and watching a movie on Nick. Painting toenails. Typical slumber party behavior. Here she is in mom's t-shirt - one of my favorites because my friend D1 donated platelets to MDA to get it.

I'm amazed at how big she's gotten. She seems like a little adult now. It makes me so proud that she is so sweet. She washed and conditioned her own hair and was like... "I need body gel so I can be fresh and clean." Then when she was brushing her teeth, she gargled with water. It was so funny to me that she's so grown up.

Right now we are all in our jammies, watching cartoons, and she's coloring on this cool velvet box that my friend Sugarsnit sent for Christmas.

She has now lost six teeth. She totally looks like a jack-o-lantern.

I think we are going to hang out in our jammies today and color. I could think of nothing finer. I have missed this child with all my being.

Today my leukemia is a million miles away.

All is well with the world. Especially in Sri Lanka.

Sisterhood

The other day I was getting discharged from the hospital. I was ready to go home, but those days are always just so overwhelming to me. I always end up reflecting back on my inpatient stay and am amazed that YES! I did it. I did one more round and I'm done. I'm alive. I survived it. I am going to beat this cancer.

I think that moment comes as I walk out of the doors of the hospital. The brisk air, the hustle of real life, real people going about their business. The thoughts of going home and freedom to just be; no more poking, prodding, weighing, waking me up all night. I want to imagine that this is what prisoners must feel like when they get released.

I was waiting on my ride to bring his car around. The many shuttles come and go and bring people to the hospital. I was just enjoying the fresh air when I saw this well.. really old woman get out of a van. She had to be in her seventies or eighties, but was really frail and seemed so old. Then I see her turn around and help this even older woman get out. The walk in together, leaning on each other and holding hands like kindergarten friends, and I started crying.

It was the sweetest gesture I have seen. This woman who already had a hard time walking, holding the hand and helping this other woman. I am pretty sure they were sisters as they looked so much alike. They were so intimate with each other. Depending so much on each other.

It made me think about my own sisters. And how much they do for me and how much I love them and rely on their support. I want to kick this cancer's ass. I want to be here when I'm eighty to hold my sisters' hands. To see their children grow up. To share our lives together. I just love them so much. This cancer is not going to kill me. I am going to fight it as hard as I fucking can. I have no choice but to.

Because I have my sisters. My family. My friends. My Monkey Boy. They are all here with me holding my hand; even when I'm alone, I feel this.

Yesterday was an excrutiatingly long day. I got my lab work done and then had to have the spinal tap chemo. I did a lot of waiting and walking around the hospital, and it felt good. It was my first appointments where I was just dropped off and didn't have someone there with me. I felt really strong, but it was a little tiring, a little lonely.

My counts are kind of low. I'm really susceptible to infections now as my white blood count is nearly non-existant. But I still feel pretty good. The spinal tap, unfortunately, didn't go well and she had to poke me three times. It was painful, but I was doing ok as I was thinking about Zoe and white beaches and vacations.

When I was done for the day, Sis #1 called a good friend of ours to give me a ride. She was having a dinner party with the bunko group, and I was going to get to hang with the girls. It was sweet, and I felt so normal. So loved.

I love my friends. It's like I have all these other sisters. They look out for me and each other. I know that if I ever needed anything, I could call any one of them up and they would be there for me. And I know I'd do the same for any of them. I love that group. Such funny, smart, awesome women. They are some of the greatest women I know - great moms, kind, loving women.

There was so much power in that room last night. And it felt so good to be laughing and just talking with them. Women have so much strength. We just kick so much ass. And I think alot of this is just drawing strength from each other. Just seeing the amazing and awesome things that they all do makes you able to see the potential of your own life.

I see the potential of my life. I know what can be. My dreams are so clear and so viable to me. Before my cancer, I used to daydream of what I'd like my life to be like, but it never seemed within reach, more of just a daydream. But now, I see it with so much clarity. My priorities are crystal clear and the potential for those 'what if's' and 'what can be's' is as real as my real life.

For this, I thank God and I thank my cancer. I thank it for making me realize that my life is so bountiful and blessed, and I can do anything I set my mind to. There are so many possibilities that it humbles and amazes me.

I can do this. I feel your hand in mine.

Today your assignment is to show a remarkable woman how much you care about her. Send her a note. Buy flowers for no reason. Write her a poem. Do something to show your appreciation of her special gifts, her strengths, her power. It doesn't have to be some super grand gesture, but it's important to let that person know how great and wonderful she is. I have many many women like that. I hope you all know that I love you very much. Your support has been my saving grace. I will never forget that.

Today my priorities are set. And then some.

Ah. They Still Want Me

I get this in my mailbox on this dating site. Even though my profile says I'm not looking and that I have leukemia, they still send me messages.

How should I reply to:

Darling i'm nothing without your touch my love i'm nothing without your kisssssssss to spend each night in your arms my flower is mans idea of blisssssss to not hear your voice each night is to die seven times by gods wrath if i was anything other than human i would be your water your bath! Your father must have been a thief he stole the stars from the sky and put them into your eyes! You have the most beautiful luscious voluptuous lips!
God may have created man and woman equal but he definitely created u without equal!

The internet scares the heebs out of me.

They Made Me Proud

Now that was a great football game. I did a little play by play to Monkey Boy as while they have the internets in Sri Lanka, they do not have the sports event channel. I feel all ESPNey and stuff.

I get a lovely spinal tap with chemo, aka the inter.the.cal, tomorrow. How sad is it that I'm not the least worried about a four inch needle in my spine? I'm a pro by now.

I did have my first blog reader, CJ, sign up for the National Bone Marrow Registry. How exciting! He did it in Temple, Texas and said they did not charge him. Now that's cool. I would love it if he got the call someday to save someone's life. I am hoping to keep track of anyone who registered because of me. I don't have a numeric goal yet, but I want to set one up.

Today. Uneventful. Ate like a squirrel.

Your assignment for today is to eat some veggies. My counts are low, so I have to stay away, so eat some raw greenies for me, por favor. Get you some of the good stuff too.

Who knew that winning would have such an effect on me.

Hook 'em!!

Par-tay Like a Rock Star

I'm going to turn into a pumpkin... It's 1am!!!

Tonight my friend D1 and I took me and my bald head to go see kareoke. I wasn't quite brave enough to go full on bald, but I still was fierce rocking in my ball cap. I didn't sing onstage, but I sang with them in the crowd and even shook my butt a lil bit. It was fun to see everyone, and more fun to see them sing.

I also got emails for two dude friends I know who are now going to donate blood.. How kick butt is that?

Whoever donated the blood to me yesterday must have been an energetic mofo because I feel really good. But I am going to rest tomorrow though like it's the Sabbath. Nap city.

Today I unpacked and cleaned up a bit. I got the sweetest lil' package in the mail from my main girl L(space)D - the Wizard of OZ on DVD (state o' the art and with 10 hours of bonus features), A Dora book for my Zoe Kat, and this cool Stitch 'N Bitch book... could it be.. knitting in my future??? You so rockit L_D. I love you, woman.

I am going to need some distractions during the BMT as I think I'm hospital bound for like 30+ days.. just like being in the pen or something. Jailtime. I'm going to go nuts, but have lots of distractions. I even got some cool old school paint by numbers stuff from a dear friend the other day.

I'm getting nervous about the transplant as there is talk of doing it next month. NEXT MONTH. I want to meet with my team as I have so many questions, but I've decided that I'm not going to worry about it. There's just no point to doing that.

I've also decided that my motto for my transplant will be:

Where there is great love, there are always miracles. -Willa Cather

Thank you for that Ms. Minou.

I feel safe and loved. Loved. Solid. Powerful. I'm going to see my miracle in 2006. I have faith in this. I do and I will.

I, bald debu_goddess extraordinaire, am doing this. And I'm doing it with flair!!

Your assignment for today is to sing. Like.. WAY WAY SING. Outloud. Like the world is your kareoke. Because life is too short to not sing when you can. Even if you suck. Sing your guts out today. And then sing some more.

I so suck at being an international superspy, so I'll just settle for being the 007 babe instead. You get the kareoke mike though, pal.

Our Home

I'm home. I'm safe. I kicked butt.

I am doing this.

A New Day

The happiest of New Years to you all!

What a lovely night I had. I spent hours laughing online with Monkey Boy as he helped me ring in the new year here at midnight. I bet the nurses thought I was crazy as they'd come in and I'd be laughing my head off. I have to say that it was one of the most fun and hysterical New Years I've had to date. I hope that you all had as much fun as I did ringing in 2006.

I'm so excited for this new year. I think it is because I knew as the year came in that I am so loved, and this year brings so much promise and hope. Like I said, it's cool to have a good New Years Eve as what you are doing on NYE is what your year will be like.

For me, I was getting my butt kicking Uma Thurman chemo and the healing powers of these meds are going to make me well. I was ringing in the new year with joy and laughter and love. I talked to many of my friends yesterday and they give me so much support. And I knew that my Zoe is with my parents and family and she is cared for and loved and having a good time. This makes me feel happy and secure.

I have so much hope for this new year and for the rest of my life. So many good things are happening for me and I know that one day I will be well. Today is a day for reflection. I am going to spend some time today looking over some of the things that I want to accomplish and set out how to get those things done. It's going to be a challenging year for sure, but one full of promise and hope.

Aside from getting through the bone marrow transplant, I know that one of my top priorities will be setting up funding and drives to get people registered for the bone marrow registry. I know I can make a difference. How cool would that be if even one person I had sign up ended up saving someone else's life? The whole process is amazing (and for me exciting and frightening at the same time). I am finding more and more stories of people who are like 10 and 15 years out from their transplants and they are just as healthy as any other person. I'd love to help bring some of that joy and wellness to others.

I also want to start back at working out. I am going to try to set up some type of home gym so that I can do a workout routine to get my muscle tone back. As of this morning I weigh the least I've weighed since 1991. Which to me is actually pretty freaking kickass. But I am losing muscle tone by being inside so often and not strength training. Sis #1 is totally my workout inspiration, so I am going to ask her assistance in getting this setup now. I want to be strong before I begin my bone marrow transplant so I can kick as much butt as possible.

I also have my Monkey Boy (he really does need a better name, but he has this monkey following him around in Sri Lanka which I think is kinda funny). Monkey Boy did a triathalon for Team Texas, Team in Training to raise funds (his team raised 10K) for the Leukemia/Lymphoma Society. He said that he would be Captain of Team_Debu if I wanted. When I'm able to really get back to major workouts post transplant, I plan on starting off with a 5K walk or run if I can. I would be honored to give back and walk for Clem and those others who are unable to walk. Leukemia sucks. I want to help raise money to get rid of this miserable disease.

I think my goals are really pretty reasonable and do-able. I am very determined, which usually is the biggest obstacle to accomplishing anything. If you can think it, you can do it.

And I know that I can do this.

Today your assignment is to accomplish a housekeeping task. I want you to pick one small area to tackle and organize it. Something you always put off, but that you never get to. Even if it's one small drawer, I want you to get in there, roll up your sleeves and get it done. It doesn't have to be some huge major overhaul, as so often that can get too overwhelming and you don't finish. Throw out old cosmetics, shred bills, clean your desk, pack up Christmas decorations, organize your dresser drawers, go in your closet and get rid of clothes you don't wear. Just declutter and simplify something today. Something small, but accomplish that today.

Then, take ten minutes to physically write down your one big goal of the year. What one thing you really want to do this year. After that, write down some of the obstacles you think will stop you and then what you can do to overcome them. What things you need to do to get it done. It's important. You need to honor yourself and accomplishing a goal is so worthwhile. There are so many reasons why you can't do something, but there are so many great reasons why you can. Write it down. I expect no less from you.

Happy New Year, International Spy. It's going to be our year.