A Dusky Evening Memory

courtesy exuberantcolor.blogspot.com

Challenging myself to tell a simple story, I recalled a classic moment early in my son's life.  Every mother finds herself doing something she thought she would never have to deal with.  We often crack ourselves when we consider things we never thought we'd have to say.

Consider the idyllic rural country side, rolling green grasses.  There's the old farmhouse with the strawberry patch out to it's side. Out in the front of the old house there's a big maple to offer it's shade.  Beneath the spreading branches there's blankets and folding chairs.  My sisters and I were sprawled across the quilts, chatting with mom and watching my 16 month old son playing in the grass with his favorite truck of the day.

We were laughing and poking at each other, keeping an eye on the toddler as he played around the house.  He was having great fun climbing up the old steps and then back down, turning around to cackle at us and then back up the steps.  It was a moment of perfect peace as we soaked the last lingering rays of the sunset.

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Dusk had fallen over the fields, so we picked up the blankets, collected the boy child and headed toward the back door.  No one uses front doors in the country.  We had reached the back porch when my sister stopped and pointed to my son.

"What is he chewing on?"  Becky asked pointing to him.

I looked closer at my son's face and saw indeed he was chewing with much enthusiasm as slobbery brown juices dripped off his chin.   Becky scooped him up and wrestled with him as he tried to keep his treasures in his mouth.  After a moment she got a finger into his cheeks and swiped out his mouth.

She began to squeal, gag and shake her hands, yelling for us to "Help him, Help him!"  She continued to squeal and dance around yard.  The panic spurred us up off our chairs and we ran to the now frightened toddler.  As he wailed, my mom swept his mouth clear and held the contents up to show me.

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Yes, he had a mouth full of half chewed June bugs.  My sister had been doing her classic "bug" dance.  Mom and I fell over with the big kind of belly laugh that leaves tears streaming down your face and you hug yourself because the ache in your sides.  That dusky evening on the farm is a sweet memory of a grandma, a mom, a sister and a son that to this day brings a smile and a chuckle to my heart.

Pink Ribbons ~ Nipple confusion

Pink Ribbons is a feature series I have started that is posted every Thursday.  I am a Pink Ribbon Warrior, having gone through the chemo, surgery, radiation, the year of waiting and recently stage 2 reconstruction...which I find is really the first of many little surgeries.  I am at a place in my life where I am willing to open my journal from that time and share with you my anger, fears, challenges and pain of finding out you have cancer.   This is me sharing with you from the other side of breast cancer.

These are not current events, events are from Sept. 2010

I have decided I'm not going to bother with reconstructed nipples.  They are not the same, no sensation...just an ornament to finish off the look.  I've been 38 years trying to keep them under control and hidden in my clothes.  I don't plan to deal with that again.  But I'm aware that many women NEED to finish the reconstruction to be comfortable with their appearance.

Hey Rosey....

Yesterday my cousin (more like my sister, we grew up together) called to tell me she has breast cancer.  She's still nursing her son and thought it was a clogged milk duct. (He wouldn't nurse on that breast, neither would her other baby)  The mammo came back clear, but the biopsy showed cancer.  She has a 100% survival rate, so that is a huge blessing.  She'll be having surgery within the next two weeks and will leave with a reconstructed breast, since they are taking her whole breast.  They will not know if she needs chemo/radiation until after the surgery.  Her name is Cheryl and she has 4 kids (Ages 15 - 1)

If you guys could be praying for her, that would be awesome.

Paula 

It's interesting how a lot of cancers show up during pregnancy or nursing. But it would be a hard time to deal with cancer treatment and an infant! I hope she has a lot of support and I will be praying for Cheryl. Its interesting how different doctors treat this. I was confused by your statement she will be leaving with a reconstructed breast but they were taking the whole breast. I was naive here too. If they take the whole breast she will leave with tissue expanders in place. Unless shes doing a belly or back flap surgery. That is very painful and she will need a lot of help with children when she gets home. whew !


Paula - Yes, they're taking skin from her tummy area (she doesn't have stretch marks, but has 4 kids!  <insert jealous face here> )  She'll then have a little tummy tuck.   (I told her she was going be smokin hot by the time they got through)  She's a skinny little thing to begin with.  The doctor did say she would be IN THE BED for at least 3 weeks.  Her mother lives 2 houses down and will keep the baby for her.  She's already weaned him and he did really well.

To be clear...she was in some sort of surgery having the milk duct drained when the doctor realized it was not the milk duct.  Her first doctor was an A#$&& and was very cruel to her and her mother.  They left and got a second opinion, which saved her other breast, which the first doctor was going to remove.  He wasn't going to give her a nipple, said she didn't "need" it.     I know Rosie said something about probably not getting one, but Cheryl is only 38 years old and wants her body to look nice after all of this.  (She is very concerned about how she'll look afterwards)  It should be a choice the patient makes, not the doctor!  Ya know?

This second doctor is going to reconstruct the breast to match the other one and give her a tattooed nipple.  She said in the photos that she saw it looks very real and you can't tell.  She'll have the no nipple surgery first, then go back later for the tattoo?  Or maybe to add the nipple?  I'm pretty sure he said he had to "make" it, then add it later.

Anyway, just wanted to clear all that up.  I'll be sure to post a prayer request for the day of her surgery, she asked me to have as many people praying as possible.

To be clear, it's a common misconception that women who have belly flaps (tummy tucks) will be "smokin hot" by the end of their surgical reconstruction.  You are taking muscle, fat and skin from the tummy region, tunneling it up to the breast area.  The doctors shape it, stitch and close everything up.  The tummy is often left misshapen and kind of funny looking.  But it should be flatter than before.  Not all doctors are conscientious bout where the belly button winds up.  It occasionally gets pulled off center and to the side.  It's really not an issue under your clothes but the few people I know with this problem REALLY hate it.
Most people do have a good result, but issues come up.  Research your plastic surgeon to find out if his patients recommend and trust his work.  It's important.  You will be looking at it continuously.  This IS the reason many women do reconstruct nipples...until the nipple is done and tatooed, it  doesn't really look like a breast.  Yes, the mound is there.  Yes, it fills out the darts on your blouses (which is why I want reconstruction) but they do NOT look normal.  Adding the nipple does give the illusion of normalcy.

Or opting for no reconstruction, just 3D tatooing...

No nipple reconstruction...3D tatooing only  :)  Fooled ya didn't it?

A Personal Observation

I know I'm a little weird and sometimes the strangest things enter my mind.

I have tried to increase my intake of water through the day.  Invariably this results in a full bladder with urgent need to get to the bathroom.  In the middle of the night, I have noticed repetitive dreams that I need to find a bathroom and hurry about it.  But regardless of how many bathrooms I find (or don't find) my dream self is thwarted by the ever increasing hysteria to find a bathroom and empty the bladder.

Then I wake up to find I have a very full bladder and I gimp to the bathroom to take care of the business.

Last night, I awoke.  I felt the obvious need to go to the bathroom so I got up and headed to the bathroom.  In the midst of relieving my tension I had the thought..."Wait!  What if I'm dreaming I got up and walked to the bathroom but I'm really still asleep in the bed!?!  Does that mean I'm actually wetting the bed?"  And the weird thing is I stay there a moment contemplating whether my trip to the bathroom is really happening or if it is another dream.

I know.  That's all for now.

Fireworks 2011 Just because I like it.

The Truth About Solitaire

My Father used to tell us a truth about solitaire.

He claimed if you were ever lost anywhere....just sit down and start to play solitaire.

Someone will show up to tell you where to go next.

In this case, my niece Amy is getting help from her buddy Tigger.

He is apparently quite skilled at showing her which move to make next.  ;)

My Mother's Day

Thirty four years of marriage.

It's was probably only 6 months after we married that we decided to stop using preventative measures against pregnancy.  Not anxious to have a child at the point, but we were willing to.

Three years later, despite our most ardent efforts *grinning* we were still childless and we were becoming anxious.  I concluded...something was wrong.

I spent hours at the library, (this was before the internet took off) for sure.  I read and pored over books.  I taught myself how to read fertility signs.  I learned how to chart them and dutifully took my basal body temp every morning with an aching bladder, impatiently waiting for the 2 minutes to be up.

I learned I did not have fertile times.  I did not ovulate.

It would be a couple more years before finding a doctor who was willing to help us conceive.  We were active duty military at the time, and for the first few years I got the same attitude from military doctors.  They were callous and disinterestd in propogating more "military brats."

It was at 6 years that we were stationed in Mayport Fl where military spouses (me) had to use civilian medical, paid by CHAMPUS.  There a doctor diagnosed...polycystic ovarian syndrome.  I was correct.  I was not ovulating.  But he held out hope...fertility meds that were inducing ovulation in women like me.

So I started.  Month after month of blistering hot flashes, wild mood swings, scheduled sex and periods.  Lots and lots of periods.  I suffered the humiliaton of exams and giving the doctor my temp and sex charts...embarrassment of having someone comment on how often you are having sex.

Every month I flushed my hope away with a heavy heart.  Year Six, I skipped Mother's Day at church.  I couldn't face the celebrations with empty arms.

In the fall of 1986, I had a positive pregnancy test and how we rejoiced.  But weeks later, we grieved that loss.  My heart was broke and I determined that God did not want me to have the desire of my heart.  He did not want me to be happy.  I did not trust him.

That Spring of 1987, both of us skipped Mother's Day celebrations and went on a day trip.  Anything to keep from hearing the happy voices around us.  That year, I flew home to spend a month for a sister's wedding.  I was home with my father for Father's Day, numbing the pain of not successfully giving my husband a ticket to the day.

Unknown to us, this would be a turning point.  I had determined...I was stopping.  No more charts.  No more temps.   I didn't have the heart for it right now.  I was just going to love my husband and be done with this torture and repeated failure.

I got pregnant.

It wasn't an easy pregnancy...threatened miscarriage, hypertension, pre-eclampsia and diabetes all threatened the life I carried.  I lived in fear that I would wake up one day and it would be over again.  I spent 7 months on bedrest, living on my left side to give my child the best blood flow.

Then one morning in Feb 1988, it happened.

 I had my Mother's Day

Massacre at Crest Ave

It was in the still wee hours that I heard my husband call out, "Hon, we have an ant invasion going on in here."

I think I snorted something and shifted deeper into my pillow.  An ant invasion is not enough to bring me up out of the sheets.  Maybe if they were crawling on me....that gives me the willies.  But knowing they were somewhere in the house...well as long as they aren't in my bed, I'm okay.  If he had said MICE!  I would have scurried up screaming.  You can't trust mice to stay where they are.

I got up about 3 hours after he left for work.  I got my coffee, started dressing and went to the bathroom to wash up.

Along one wall, I saw the "ant invasion" he spoke of.  Nasty.  I swear it was hundreds of ants.  Ants going nuts, crawling in weird circles on the wall. It maybe have been funny if I wasn't so busy shuddering at the sight.

Others were in crazy lines leading from the floor to... my medicine cabinet?

I opened the door to seee what drew them into a medicine cabinet.

They were swarming over an empty bottle of my "big guns" cough syrup.  The kind with hydrocodone and high powered anti-histamines...that would explain the crazy ant circles on the wall.  They were gorked out of their pinhead brains.  There was just enough syrup around the bottom of the cap for them to feast upon.

So I retrieved my heavy hitting ant poison.  I love this stuff.  It's gross for a while as ants find it and gorge on it.  They carry it back to the nest and share it with everyone else.  Usually within 3 days, my yearly ant invasion is over.  They are no more.

I went back a couple hours later and shuddered again.  I shook as the momentary willies crept over me.  They had found the poison and the nastiness was growing.  I kind of feel bad.  I mean we've heard the children's stories about the ant and the grasshopper.  I wouldn't bother them if they had stayed OUTSIDE.  Unknown to the industrious little critters they were gorging to their death.

Ack.  I get the willies just looking at it.

They are still gorging.  If you think about it for a minute, you can draw your own allegory here about mankind gorging on sin, gorging to our own death.  I threw that in for free because I really just posted this to report the awesomeness of this ant poison.  And if you use it the way they show it on the box?  You get a sticky mess spilling out on your floors, windows or counters.  Put the label side down and do yourself that smal favor.

Meanwhile I continue feeding the ants to death.

Rink Ribbons ~ Walmart Says NO to Pink Hair!

Pink Ribbons is a feature series I have started that is posted every Thursday.  I am a Pink Ribbon Warrior, having gone through the chemo, surgery, radiation, the year of waiting and recently stage 2 reconstruction...which I find is really the first of many little surgeries.  I am at a place in my life where I am willing to open my journal from that time and share with you my anger, fears, challenges and pain of finding out you have cancer.   This is me sharing with you from the other side of breast cancer.

 
These are not current events, events are from Sept. 2010

Dear Rosey,

The girl that works with me in the tour office came in with a pink stripe in her hair. It's a weave and it's all pink. Her salon is charging $10 to have it done and 1/2 of the proceeds are going to a foundation for breast cancer research.

Is that not the coolest thing!! Seriously thinking about having it done. I know Brooke will want to. (only because it's cool) LOL

Rosey, if I have it done it will be for YOU!

 Dawn

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Linderlou - I think I'll stick with wearing my pink bracelet on Rosey's behalf. But if that's what you and your DD want to do, go for it.  

abreakfromlife - you should!  it's not like you'll have many other chances to experience a hair-do like that in life!  

Girls,

Sounds like outrageous fun too! I have considered buying pink hair spray and spraying my scalp for my last chemo tx. Until K pointed out no one would know unless I exposed my head. Well it's to cold to consider that even if I was brave enough.

I guess I could do it to my wig! I'm getting wig catalogues that have cool wigs like that already done...pink or red weaves.  (I DID spray my wig pink for my Oct. 1 chemo and nearly caused a pink riot in the chemo clinic!)

Last weekend my nephew Michael marched in a homecoming parade dressed as a pink fire fighter. He was harassed for being pink (mike is very buff now) until he told them that it was in honor of his aunt Rosey. sniff

courtesy

I thought I'd hate doing this cancer stuff during October. I friend told me she felt like she couldn't get away from being slapped in the face with reminders. But its giving me an ooo rah spirit! I love hearing pink stories or other things like this. I think my friend was just weird. People I talk to at the cancer center all love it too.

So streak your pink!

You know I told my sister about this. She asked her hairdresser about it and they showed her a pink weave they could use. She just wanted to wear it this week. Walmart told her no. She works in the warehouse in receiving. Mom and I both have or had breast cancer and tomorrow is our birthday. So she was going to wear it this week in our honor. Walmart told her it was too radical.

Yeah you know Walmart...that place with the really high class general employee base? Lmbo 

(Walmart said no???)    

But this disappointed her because she thought breast cancer awareness, my birthday and two in her family having breast cancer should give her the right to have a pink strand of hair.   I guess not.

Speaking of hair...

Yes that was me, squatted down in front of this Kohls Breast cancer awareness display...busting a gut at the irony.