TWO ANKLES!

I have two ankles, and that's as opposed to lately having one ankle and one tree trunk.  Looks like the Arixtra is doing a good job!  I haven't had two ankles since I was in the hospital back in September.  I do still have some leg pain, but it wasn't as bad today as it has been.  So, I'm pretty darned happy!

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving.  We're just celebrating with the normal household, minus my sweet Quito, this year.  We got our turkey and trimmings from a farm in Arkansas this year.  Last year we had gotten a ham from them, and it was spectacular.  So I have high hopes for this turkey. :)

There is so much for which to be thankful, but number one on my list is my dear family.  We're all over the place, but we try hard to keep in touch, and provide love and support to each other as best we can.  It's these connections that keep me going.  I love you all so much.

If you celebrate Thanksgiving, please enjoy.  And if you don't ... just make sure you give and get lots of hugs.

Laughter, Food, and Family

The visit with my sister, brother-in-law, and niece was fantastic.  It made me so happy on many levels.  First, of course, is that we laughed and talked and laughed even more.


Cee treated us all to Outback's take-away, and of course, I had to have some crab.  This time, though, it was snow crab rather than Alaskan King Crab... but I have to say, this snow crab was the best I've ever had.  And then we had to talk about the best food we'd had in all the places we'd visited in our lives.  Cee had chicken shawarma in Israel.  Mine was an incredible Paella in Barcelona.  CeeCee enjoyed Korean in Dallas.  It's interesting all of life's memories that are connected to food. Of course, that makes sense, considering you need food for life.


We laughed about Mom's lack of cooking prowess.  Not in any sense was it disrespectful laughter, rather it was how Mom's cooking colored our perception of certain foods that we thought were hideous, but that we now love.  It wasn't that she didn't care; she just didn't KNOW how to cook.  To her, considering how poor she was as a child, food was not necessarily something about which to be inspired, but more about keeping bellies fed.  And, frankly, Mom hated cooking.  It was a chore for her. 


Happily, to her daughters, cooking became a passion.  Cooking became a creative outlet; cooking became a way to show love to those with whom we shared our creations.


It isn't often that I write two posts in one day, but I have to tell you that I had SUCH a great day today.  Thank you, Cee, Bud and CeeCee.  It truly was such fun.  I may be exhausted, but being with you was worth it.  MORE than worth it.  I love you all so much.

I Miss You, Papa

That's my mom, Ruth and my dad, Jerry.  Mom's got her granddaughter Cee, and her own daughter Jane, and Daddy's got his grandson Bobby, and ME!  Look at that gleeful smile on my face; I loved my pop so much.


Daddy was born in 1906, in Los Angeles, California, a member of a very old Spanish Californiano family.  He was 34 when he married my mom, who was 18 at the time.  It seems strange, but it worked out well for all of us, even with that 16 year age difference.  I think it took Daddy many years of sowing those 'oats' to know when it was time to settle down.  He told me once that he'd better be the first to go, because he knew he could never live without my mom.

Here's a picture I think we took  before I moved out here to Arizona in 1985.  From Left to Right:  Cecilia Charlotte, Auntie leaning on ME, Pico, Jane, my oldest brother, Pete, then Daddy, who's corralling Wendy.  Jerry Edward, Mom and Sam (actually Martha Lorraine) round out this gang.  I'm cracking up because Dad's wearing a hockey T-shirt.  Dad didn't know hockey from Jai Alai.  I'm guessing he got that shirt from Nancy. :D


Dad died in November of 1991 at the ripe old age of 85.  I truly believe his children, and being involved in our lives are what kept him going.  Daddy was 52 when I was born; Jane came when he was 57, and Wendy arrived right after Dad's 60th birthday.  Most of our siblings were already off raising their own families, hence the top picture wherein Mom has a granddaughter and a daughter of the same age. :D  And they all did it again when Wendy was born.  


So, Daddy did get his wish and left the earth before Mom.  But Mom also made it, sixteen years later, to 85.  


I love you both, and miss you terribly, and Auntie, too.  

Choices

Sometimes life presents you with challenges; or rather life presents you with situations that may be challenging, depending upon how you perceive them and then handle them.

I had some very sad news yesterday that brought back memories of another time, equally sad and equally disturbing.  As happens, if the information I receive is heartbreaking, I cry, although I know I have to be careful because crying can really screw up my breathing.

Yesterday, I had to cry not only for the nephew I lost, but for the brother I had lost seven years ago.  In seven years, there is time to dull the sharp pain of grief; you do not forget, nor does the grief disappear, but it lingers in the background until a sight, sound or even a scent brings a memory to the forefront of your perceptions and you grieve anew.

As the day progressed, memories of my brother were definitely front and center; I couldn’t even turn them off very well to get to sleep, but I could replace the sad memories with those of happier times, and that is how I handle moments of grief that could figuratively bring me to my knees.

For weeks after my aunt died, all I could see when I closed my eyes was her in Intensive Care, hooked up to machines, with no way to communicate except with her beautiful, bright blue eyes.  It was a painful memory and would have driven me nuts if I hadn’t decided one day to just move it along.  I replaced it with the memory of her in Hawaii, in the elevator of the Hilton Rainbow Tower, singing ‘Stormy Weather’ despite not being alone in the car.  Well, yes, she HAD had one ChiChi too many, but that’s beside the point.  My sisters and I joined in and eventually, even the other couple started singing along.  We always had fun in our travels with my aunt.  Then as I traded the memory of her in Intensive Care for the memory of her in Hawaii, I could smile again... even laugh at our shenanigans.  We had amazing times that enriched our lives, and those were the ones I would remember.

So this morning, after a fitful sleep, I again had to make that conscious decision to move aside painful memories with ones that better reflected the wonderful man that was my brother.  And I’m good again.  There are many times life presents you with challenges, and it’s up to you to decide how you will handle them.  I will grieve for my nephew, and I will get through that and then remember his childhood antics with a smile, and try to work on creating happy memories for the future so that my family can have something to smile at when I am gone.

Love to all.

Bright Sunlight

On June 3rd, 1985, I moved from the land of my birth, Los Angeles, California, to the Phoenix suburbs of Arizona.  I don't think a day has passed since that day, that I haven't marveled at how beautiful the sky is out here in the desert.

That first week, my mom and dad and aunt were here, helping me move, and it was bittersweet.  I lived at home until I moved here, and while I knew where I was going career-wise, I never really wanted to be away from my family.  But you have to severe those ties, eventually, and begin making your own way, even if you do make lots of mistakes along the way.  My little sister moved out here with me, so I was not alone.  She was 18, and ready to begin college.  We had so much fun, figuring out life with only each other for support instead of that HUGE family back in California.

Arizona has stars.  It's true!  You can see them at night; bright, sparkling like Swarovski crystals against midnight blue satin.  L.A.'s skies were so saturated with artificial light at all times, you never got to see a star.  It became a ritual for me, when heading out to work in the morning, to greet Orion, because I could see him up there, stable, and always on the hunt.

I remember the first taste of summer monsoons.  The wind would come up, the sky would turn yellow-grey, and the dust would shroud everything.  Then the thunder would roar and it would rain so hard you couldn't see across the street.  It was frightening in its intensity, but then in its aftermath, there was a break from the summer heat, and there is nothing like the scent of wet desert; it's comforting and homey and wraps you in calm.

This is such a primal world, the desert, and although we have all the modern comforts and conveniences, this primal world still struggles to dominate over it all.  The scorpions continue to try to invade the house every year; the black widows and preying mantis keep watch over vegetation that always seems to have thorns of some kind.  And I can deal with them all, except those darned Wolf Spiders... just something about spiders with hairy legs that gives me the willies. :D

Anyway, it's a crazy-bright morning again, and I think I'll head outside and get myself a little Vitamin D to kick off my day.  I'll be seeing the radiation oncologist today, after zappage, and I need to tell her that I feel like I'm getting acid reflux or something, and it's interfering with sleep.

Be safe and well, all.

A Pre-Chemo Haircut...

Dr. T, the RO had told me to call her on Tuesday afternoon, if I had not heard from her by then.  Had to leave a message, but I did call.  Hopefully, someone will call back soon.  I need to get this ball rolling, you know?

Today, though, I went and got my pre-chemo haircut.  I never realized I had such a pin head.  Seriously.  Here, look:

Yeah, I don't think we could have gotten this cut much more.  My question is:  Who stole my eyebrows?  I never quite had Brooke Shields' type eyebrows, but dang!

Just at the bottom of the photo you can see the incision where the port tubing got attached to the superior vena cava.  Both of the incisions are almost completely healed, so I'm good to go... now if only they would GET ME GOING!  (the gritted teeth should be implied by the CAPS)

My sister-in-law, Julie, was just here, bringing me hand-knitted goodies to get me through the coming frosty winter.  I know people in Michigan and Illinois, not to mention Ohio (Wendy and Dean) would grin knowingly about how awfully 'cold' our winters are, but hey, this is the coldest place I have ever lived!  It's all relative.

Anywho, Julie made me a wrap and matching hat, and then a second hat, all of which are oh-so-soft.  She took pictures and I'll share those just as soon as she sends them to me.  Why I didn't have her d/l them to this one while she was here,.... drat.

I can smell some wonderful chicken with chilies ... Jane's making me stew.  Oh the temptation of that scent.  Poor Jane is trying so hard to keep me fed.  I hate worrying her, but I think she's taking this whole thing pretty darned well. 

I once told someone that truly one of the hardest things about having cancer is the effect it has on the people that love you.  My family is not stupid and they know how to find out the survival rates on this type of cancer, and it's hard to see someone you love going through this ordeal without a way to tangibly help them.  I just want everyone to know that I'm going to fight as long as I can, but if it comes down to the point where it's pointless to put myself through treatments that ultimately are not working or helping, I am quite fine with the inevitability of death.  I am not afraid of it.  I don't believe it's anything to worry about or fear.  And besides, everyone does it. :)

So stay tuned for upcoming photos of me in my cool new knitted accessories.  I'll be stylin' in the infusion ward.