And this little girl made sloppy kissy sounds .. all the way home! Jes wins!
I’ve been away from my blog for a few days, got some beading done and a few other things. I think I am getting a better idea how to balance blogging, beading, and well – everything else. Sort of. I was able to step away and nothing cataclysmic happened, so that’s a good thing. Well, not cataclysmic but Lara went off her meds which isn’t good and Amanda found out she is pregnant which is great – and those are the only 2 blogs I have read so far! I’m almost afraid to read more! I’m sure I will though, but at least I know I won’t suffer some kind of withdrawal if I decide not to read them all. That’s a step forward.
Tomorrow morning I get to go have my breast biopsy. Woo hoo! Exciting! Not. At least they are using some wonderful technology on me that will streamline the process somewhat and hopefully keep the pain to a minimum. Honestly? The worst part of it for me is being required to be at the hospital at 6:30 am. That’s just not humane. I am one of those people who are of the opinion that morning should start later in the day. Really. Maybe 10:30-ish …
If they were putting me out at least I would be able to go right back to sleep, but no such luck. Some people prefer not to be put out. A tooth pulled? No problem, give me a shot. Stitches? Go ahead, I’m fine. Remove a mole? Numb it and have at it. But if there is ever an option to be put out – I’m there. I don’t get nearly as nervous when I know somebody is going to stick a needle in my hand, wheel me into a room and next thing I know I am waking up in another room. So yeah, I have to be awake for this and be a big girl. Still, I would feel better about it all if it wasn’t quite so early in the morning. That is painful for me.
So, wish me luck in not making a fool of myself by weeping uncontrollably or begging for drugs, I am sure the procedure itself will be worse than the results. I’m pretty confident there, the numbers are SO on my side. But I’m not stupid, still need to go through with it.
Except motivation. Except whatever it takes to get my butt off the couch, get me off the computer, or get me out of the kitchen.
Exercise. Agh-h-h-h!!! Never been athletic, never been good at sports and instead of wanting to be picked first for games, I shrunk into the background hoping not to be picked at all.
When I was a stay at home Mom for a few years, and after that when I worked nights, I was able to get an actual work out in, 5 to 6 times a week. I used to get on my treadmill in the heat of summer and enjoy feeling the sweat run off my face and my body. Somehow it validated what I was doing. Look! I’m sweating like the proverbial pig! I am burning calories and firming muscles!!!
Lately though, there are so many reasons why I am not working out. So many reasons why I can’t. I mean, my exercise equipment is out in the garage. The garage is full of spiders and we all know how I feel about those. My treadmill is in the house but there is no room to face it toward the TV and I get too bored just listening to my ipod or staring at the curtains or through the window at my backyard.
I have no energy. I’m tired all of the time which of course is in no way related to the lack of exercise in my daily life.
You want to know what really happened? Okay. Oh, this is hard to admit. I was already heavier than I wanted to be. I was waffling (with whipped cream please) between the best way to exercise and was actually doing some of it. This was oh-h-h, 2 years ago and some change. So what happened to my activity level and my good intentions?
I got a laptop.
Seriously. And I got wi-fi.
Before I got the laptop I shared a computer (read begged to get
on every now and then) with my children. I enjoyed my time on the computer, teaching myself how to use it and navigating the Internet (read online shopping) for the first time. What can I say, I was late to the party.
My weight has moved up steadily, actually at an alarming rate, since I have had the luxury of taking my laptop wherever I want to in the house, sitting down with it and being automatically connected to the Internet. Preferably with the TV on mostly for background, I sit. I type, I click, I read blogs. I.do.not.move.
I must do something. This laptop, this Internet, they are my drug. I quit smoking about 5 years ago. I have shown I can do things when I put my mind to it. But for some reason at this point in my life I want to just enjoy myself. And I enjoy my laptop!!! And finger foods. I love anything you eat with your hands, candy corn, cheeze-its, Indian corn, things that rattle when you shake the bag or box. Oh and ice cream. Premium ice cream if you please.
It’s bad. It’s out of control.
So, I bought the DVD, another one. I’ve had it for about 5 days and I have managed to open the case. I took a picture of it. I haven’t quite gotten around to popping it in the DVD player, but that’s next, really!
Cause you know all of these other tapes and DVDs have been opened too – and some even made it into their respective players. Rarely has my body moved along with these perky or muscle bound instructors.
But right now, I think I’ll have a little snack before bed and put more thought into this in the morning. Sheesh. And to think I used to be able to skip a meal and see my hip bones by morning.
This is work now.
I did not know a single person who was personally affected by September 11th. Not directly, anyway. But that day forever changed me in ways I cannot express because I don’t think I understand it entirely, myself.
At work that Tuesday morning, I knew nothing about the
It seemed that my world tipped somewhat that day, over the course of the day, and fear became a part of my being. As a country we have been quite insulated from all the wars and atrocities happening all over the world. It always happened somewhere else. I remember seeing the pictures on the news of
Later, when we heard the Pentagon had been hit by another plane, and that yet one more plane had crashed in
Both of my kids were in high school, both already there for the day. I wanted so badly to just go home, get them from school and take them with me. I wanted to be close, to be grateful I knew where my children were, and to just keep them with me. But I stayed, did my job, and went home later in the day as I usually did.
It seemed so strange to me that the world was still turning, that it hadn’t shifted from its axis just a bit that day that would forever put a wobble into our existence as human beings.
I never wanted to raise my kids in a world where I had to worry about terrorism inside our own country. It was inevitable that it would come here and I suppose I was naïve about that. But I grew up in an entirely different world, one without knowledge of extremism, incredible hatred and fear. And as I turned on the TV that evening and started to see the pictures, I recognized some of what I was seeing. It was gray. All the people, the buildings, the sky, the streets. Gray. It wasn’t somewhere else anymore, it was here and it will be a part of our lives now, forever.
There were many people who died that day. People going about their business, never expecting anything unusual would happen. Many others died trying to save the people who simply went to work. Still more worked so long and so selflessly to find survivors and then to find remains, something, to give back to the families who still had such terrible emptiness with not even a body to bury.
I mourn them, I salute them, and I will never forget them.
For myself and our country, I cannot help but weep for the loss of our innocence.
Here is what she said:
The Schmoozer is “an award for those who have the natural ability to effortlessly weave their way in and out of the blogosphere, leaving friendly trails and smiles, happily making new friends along the way. They don’t limit their visits to only the rich and successful, but spend some time to say hello to new blogs as well. They are the ones who engage others in meaningful conversations, refusing to let it end at a mere hello - all the while fostering a sense of closeness and friendship.” This describes to me beautifully describes so many of my community here. I’m passing it along to Amanda, Oh Amanda, Gift of Green, and BetteJo. Always ready with a comment or a smile, these fine women are women I’m proud to consider my new friends — and all because of their willingness to visit, to comment, and to make new friends in this blogosphere of ours.
I am honored to be included, and I guess it is my turn to pass it on to some women I think deserve to be awarded The Schmoozer because they always have an encouraging word, a friendly response, or a virtual hug for those they visit here online.
I am nominating Mahala who makes me laugh and always has something nice to say. Also Lavender who has been unfailingly supportive of my war against spiders, as well as PawHealer in spite of the fact that she is a dog person as opposed to a cat person. She’s still a friendly voice out there.
And – now this is embarrassing, I was given another award by Stimey, in recognition of supporting her the day her bus driver tried to give her son to some other family. Oh the horror! Seriously!
This blogging world is something I had never even stuck my toe into 7 months ago and I still consider myself a relative newbie. But I have been welcomed by many fabulous women and a few great guys – yes they’re out there – and I would like to say thank you! This has been a wonderful experience and I hope to get to know more of you as time goes on.
Aw-w-w. Blog-love. Pass it on. :)
There are no words adequate enough to describe how creeped out, itchy and skeeved I feel! Ugh! Anything I can think of has some kind of guttural blech-ch sound, ugh! Argh-h-h!! There are things crawling on me, I can feel it. And I am being watched like my very own Hitchcock film.
On my back with one arm raised above my head, turning my head to the side I can just see the screen Ingrid my tech, is looking at. It all looks like a messy tangle of fibers and wavy lines, there doesn’t seem to be anything I would recognize as breast tissue or a mass of any kind. Of course I have no idea how to read what is on the screen, and wonder idly if that’s why Ingrid lets me see it.
It seems to be taking a long time but I am sure it is really only 10 minutes or so, it just seems like forever. I am not used to lying still without something to occupy me whether it be my laptop, the TV, my beading, a book, or the face of the person I am talking to. It hurts my neck to turn this way for any length of time, but I force myself to do it so I can see the screen. I need to look at something.
Finally Ingrid is done. She places a washcloth on my breast and pulls my gown closed. She moves with purpose across the room where she sits in front of another screen to, as far as I can tell, review the shots she has saved and will give to the radiologist. She tells me she will go consult with him and will be back in a couple of minutes. With nothing left to look at I close my eyes and hope to drift. Peacefully.
Not long after, the door opens and the rest of the overhead lights come on. I shade my eyes, complain about my nap being interrupted and I smile. Here is Ingrid and Dr Something I Did Not Hear. He tells me that the ultrasound would show if the spot they were looking at was a cyst, but they could not see it with the ultrasound. Not a cyst. It could be nothing, still not time to worry, but because it was not there when I had my previous mammogram in 2003, it still needs to be identified. He will pull the previous films again and review those with my new film, as well as the ultrasound. Then he will let my doctor know what he recommends. It may be an MRI, it may be a biopsy, but it will definitely be something.
Please, he says, follow up with your doctor tomorrow.
Two hours later my doctor calls me at work. She is a nice lady, comforting and reassuring but direct and to the point. “The radiologist is recommending a biopsy.”
She tells me how it shouldn’t be too bad. I will be on my stomach on a table with a hole in it which will allow my breast to hang through it. How flattering. They already know it will ‘hang’. Then my breast will be flattened like when doing a mammogram, and the needle will be directed with something akin to GPS technology, minus the voice telling the doctor to turn left at the next cross street. She says she has had it done and it’s not that bad. Yet my mind flashes back to Jenn at Serving The Queens, with that needle in there poking around and around until they hit something. Ugh. I have a high pain tolerance. But that does not mean I like pain.
Then she tells me what I repeat later when I am explaining to my daughter and my BF, and what I will repeat here as well.
“It is probably nothing to worry about. Over 80% of biopsied breast abnormalities are benign, and if it does turn out to be something” she pauses “then that mammogram just saved your life because it will have been found so early.”
See? Still not time to worry.