Good Morning!

As I lay in bed this morning, dozing in and out, debating whether or not to get up the phone rang. No one answered it, and I got the thought in my head that it was Dr. H's office calling to tell me they found something on my CT. The more I tried to push the thought out of my head and go back to sleep, the more convinced I was that I was right.

I wasn't.

I should've just went back to bed.

Check, Check 1-2-3

It's that time again! Wednesday is my CT, and so will begin the week-long cycle of numbness, fear, paranoia, panic, sleepless nights, bitchiness, getting lost in my own head, and finally physical illness when I enter the clinic for my results. It's a bittersweet experience for me. I'm glad to have the CT done. I want to have it done more often. If I had to have one done every month, you'd never hear me complain about it. But a lot can happen in the six months between scans and I know all too well that doctors and radiologists miss things. And so I live in my own brand of hell from a day or two before the scan, until I get the results.

I was in Bryan's den the other day grabbing the presents to wrap and saw a picture on his desk of him and I at Miller Park. I swam through the sludge in my mind trying to place that memory - gone. I don't remember that picture or that day. Sometimes I wonder if I don't want to remember - if I'm that desperate for leave the whole cancer experience behind me that he's just become collateral damage. But then I look at my kids and how desperate I am to remember how they smelled when they were babies and I know that's not the case. I just can't figure out how my feelings could change so drastically, so fast.

I wish I could find one person to talk to in complete honesty who would never breathe a word of it to anyone.

Cold

When I think about my husband, I feel cold.

When I think about the lump on the back of my neck I just found, I feel cold.

When I think about the CT scan I have next week, I feel cold.

When I think about my life - pissed off!

My neck has been hurting pretty bad for the last two weeks. I keep thinking it'll go away when I stop sleeping on the damn couch - and some days it does hurt worse than other days. I check it daily for lumps, bumps, and bulges and have found nothing, until last night. On the back of my neck there was a tender lump. I'm confulded as to what I should do about it. I don't have that shitty sinking feeling like I did when I first found the huge buldge in my neck in '09. I feel nothing about it but annoyed that I have to think about this so close to Christmas.

Next week is my CT scan. I have mixed feelings about it. Part of me doesn't want to go. I know that I could never go through chemo again and come out it without being a seriously damaged person. The last bout made me a little crazy, a little extreme on the emo scale, and a lot forgetful. I just don't think I would have it in my to do it again. But I'm getting ahead of myself. I also don't trust that a CT of my chest would catch everything. I feel like they should be checking all the areas that were affected - like my N-E-C-K.

As for life, well it just pisses me off that I have to deal with any of the above. Not that I expect some fairy tale ending, but you know I think that I'm a pretty good person and I see all of these shitty, judgemental people sitting up on their high horses with everything they ever wanted around them. All I want is to be healthy and happy and I'm really starting to see that they go hand in hand...

10 Reasons I've Decided to be a Vamp

Before reading the top 10 reasons I've decided to be a vampire, please be advised that I am in no way a Twilight fan. I'm quite the opposite in fact. I wasn't goin to bother with the movie, but a friend insisted I borrow it. I turned it off right after the main vamp pulled open his shirt to reveal that vampires shimmer and make noise when they do it. I'm not on any team, and will only watch a Twilight movie that consists of all of them killing each other.

I am however, a vampire fan and have been since before the writer of Twilight was born. Ok, maybe not that long, but you catch my drift.

Let's carry on then...

10. There's much less traffic at night.
9. I wouldn't have to go grocery shopping.
8. I'd lose weight much faster if I only drank blood.
7. I already have the wardrobe.
6. I could clean the house super fast.
5. I'm not a morning person.
4. I'm already pale.
3. My skin would have a nice glow without makeup.
2. Have you ever seen an ugly vampire?
1. I'm kinda sick of fearing for my life.

I'm so over it...

...nearly dying that is. I mean, didn't I just blog wondering if I ever would get over it?

So Thanksgiving, I ate and was merry with my family until 2:30 when I left for work. It wasn't a bad day, more of a boring, frustrating day. My then work-friend, now blood sister had kind of a bad day so she asked me if I wanted to go out for a drink after work. I of coarse, said yes.

We were sitting at a table close to the door. My back was to the door, facing her and we talked and had a couple of beers. We were there maybe an hour when I heard a loud "pop". It didn't occur to me what was happening at first, but my blood sister's blue eyeballs were huge and her face was stiff and white. Things were processing very slowly for me at this point, and then it all sped up - kinda like in the movies. A very tall man with a mask started yelling at people to get down, empty your wallets, empty your bags, and was hoping around the bar like the crazy carck-head he probably was. I saw my blood sister emptying her wallet and so I emptied mine and we left everything for him at the edge of our table so he could grab it easily. I closed my eyes and folded my hands and slid down toward the ground and tuned everything else out around me. I must've sensed that he was closer because when he yelled "get up" I was terrified that he was talking to me. Lucky for me, but not for her the grabbed the girl at the next table and used her as a shield to get out of the bar. I was in another place until my blood sister said "tell me that did not just happen". I asked if he was gone because I didn't want to talk until he was gone and then everyone and everything started moving around me.

People ran to the door to lock it, started hugging, checking on others, demanding drinks, even smoking in the bar. I turned around and saw the bullet hole in the ceiling like 3-4 feet behind me and my body just shook.

We were stuck there for what seemed like hours afterwards, shaking, and giving statements. An officer took our statements, but said we couldn't leave because some detectives might come. I texted my BFF while my blood sister and I talked about going home and crawling in bed with one of our kids. We agreed that was all we could think about. We also both knew that once we got into our cars, we would break down.

Besides the 4-6 police officers, like 9 detectives came in. They took us to their cars one at a time and took our statements. When I saw that it was after 2:30 I called Bryan and told him I'd be home whenever I could. I really didn't see very much because my back was to him and my eyes were closed. He was tall (and he probably seemed taller because I was terrified of him), had a dark coat, a black hoodie, and a white face mask. That's all I could remember. I'm pretty sure he was black.

Finally I got to my car, and the tears started flowing. I couldn't wait to get home. I wanted to crawl in bed with Skye. I rolled in around 4am. Bryan was up and interrogating me. I didn't want to talk about it, I wanted one of my babies in my arms. Nevertheless, he kept asking me questions (even tho I already told him everything) and rather than "comforting" me, he quick became an annoyance. I kept repeating that I didn't want to talk about it, that I was tired, that I wanted my babies and he kept following me around with a flashlight...ok, ok, not a flashlight, but you get my drift. Like clockwork, River woke up. I carried her to the couch and wrapped myself around her. Bryan was made because he couldn't fit next to me so there I was smooshed between the two of them - him with his questions and her with her sweet smell, like a good and evil sandwich. He kept adjusting himself and finally I told him to go back to bed. He said "I'm trying to comfort you" and I told him that I'm not comfortable or comforted, I couldn't even stretch out my legs. I felt like he was trying to comfort himself more than me.

I didn't sleep. I was up from 7am Thursday mornig until 8pm Friday night. I didn't eat. I had a salad Thursday night around 6:30 and didn't eat until around 6:30 Friday. My muscles were sore from shaking. My stomach felt like any contents would come right back up if I ate or drank anything. My head was pounding. I just wanted to sleep. Finally, I did. I slept for 13 hours. I'm feeling a little better, but I really haven't left my house yet. I'm hoping my memory loses this memory along with all the others.

So feeling like I might die is getting old. Very, very old.

I should mention that the jackass didn't take our stuff. He didn't even take the cas that the bartender put on the bar for him. He grabbed one purse and some guy's necklace.

Getting over it

Will I? Ever get over it I mean. How long before the paranoia and fear goes away? Or even decreases? How long before I get a small pain and think "ouch" rather than wondering if this is the symptom that is going to lead some doctor to my ultimate diagnosis of death? How long until I can look at my children and not wonder how much longer I have with them? So that's what I've been pondering these days...how long.

Last week there were three nights in a row where I woke up sweating. Night sweats they call them. A symptom of Lymphoma. Also a symptom of PMS. Also a symptom of a lot of things. So after day one, I tell myself it was a fluke but in the back of my mind, I wonder. Day two comes and goes and I tell myself that ol' Aunt Flo is just coming for a visit and not to worry about it but in the back of my mind I feel the fear building. Day three comes and with it, Aunt Flo. I thank God all day and night and pray (maybe beg would be a better word) that the night sweats stop now and that I can actually remember next month that this happens to I don't turn into a emo mess again.

In other news, I'm not quite sure what has sparked my remembering my dreams, but every night (that I pass stage 1 of sleep), I dream and pretty vividly. I've never experienced this type of dreaming before - where I actually feel that I'm in control. I'm not in control of the plot of it, but once I'm in whatever situation, I'm in control of my next move and I can easily read the situations. There's also been some consistency with who appears in my dreams. I honestly can't remember the last time I remember my dreams before this series started. I like it. I like it a lot.

A Lighter Side of Me?

My last few posts came from a pretty dark place inside that I don't usually touch base with unless it's necessary. It must've been necessary. It's easy for me to write about these feelings because once I get started, it just feels good to let them out. It's harder for me to write about my upbeat, lighter side for a few reasons...

1. Does anyone really like to hear about the happy gushy stuff someone has to say? We watch Lifetime movies so cry and let that darkness out.

2. Few people share my sense of humor and sarcasm and probably would just take anything I say when I'm in a good mood wrong when reading it, or worse yet they wouldn't understand what I'm saying at all.

3. When I'm the happiest, I can't talk about it because the reason I feel this way isn't the reason I should be feeling this way. To clarify, there are things that set my heart a'blaze that probably shouldn't but do. I can't help that they do any more than you can help that you like horror movies or reality TV. The fact just is that they do and so I don't talk about those things.

These are the three main reasons that I don't blog when I'm feeling sunshiney and carefree. I'm not all emo and goth all the time. In fact, I'm quite a bit of fun. But on occasion, my thoughts go over to the dark side in me and I need to let them out in some form. Writing is my form. Don't deny your dark sides, they have a way of seeping out if you do.

And I Ask Myself...

...how did I get here? It's hard to face this part of my life right now. I have to choose between what I feel in my heart and what I think in my head is "right". Quite frankly, I'm tired of following my head and would love to just follow my heart for the first time in a very long time but I have more than just myself to think about.

I'm tired of being pulled in two directions. I'm tired of feeling like a shitty person. I wish I could get some insight as to the meaning of life.

How did I lose so much of myself? When did this all happen? Was it marriage? Becoming a mother? Becoming a mother of 3 kids in a 16-month period? Heartbreaks, disappointments, let-downs, job changes, staying at home, loss of friends, relationship changes? Cancer?

Pain

So the last few days, I'm kinda sick to death of pain and the only explanation is "sometimes chemo causes that". So what? I'm just supposed to suck it up? My pains:

1. Right side of my neck
2. Back of my neck on the right
3. Right chest
4. Right clavicle
5. Right arm
6. Right armpit
7. Right shoulder
8. Everthing between right back of neck and right shoulder
9. Right hip

ALL THE TIME.

Chest and arm pit are probably scar tissue. Right clavicle and arm are probably due to damage from my mediport placement. Lovely.

Every day I pray that I don't have a recurrance because I know I couldn't handle the chemo again.

The Light The Night walk was a great success. Personally I wished I had tried harder to get more donations, but I love being part of something so big and important. And as much as I hate hearing the stories and see the small kids with scarves on their heads I believe it's a good reminder for me. It was cool to see a little boy that was sick last year, now in his terrible twos.

And now a little update on my mental health...still feeling very selfish. I still wish I could hang out with my favorite person in the world all the time. I'm finding myself "zoning out" a lot more lately. Before the majority of my day dreams were at bedtime when I couldn't sleep or in the car when I was alone. Now, I could be anywhere. I feel like JD from scrubs - head tilted to the side, just day-dreaming up a storm.

I haven't been very emotional the last few days tho. Quite the opposite. With the exception of the Walk, I've been feeling angry and cold again. I don't know where these feelings come from or if it's some kind of defense mechanism.

I'm also noticing that I'm pretty tired lately. That scares me. It could be the change in weather, or adjusting to the back to school routine, or that I'm actually learning again and making my brain do something out of the ordinary.

Perhaps the common fool would wonder why, oh why don't I go to the doctor. I'll tell you a little secret: I DON'T TRUST DOCTORS.

Ok. So, what makes me happy these days? My kids as always, tho they also are major stress factors in my life...and not always because of something they do. There's school, bullies, homework, sicknesses, etc. School is making me happy - I feel so good when I finish an assignment or do good on a test. Other than that, I can't really say what makes me happy...no really, I can't say.

What really, really bothers me is that I'm usually really good at working out what's in my head myself. I can usually sit down and take a long hard "look in the mirror" and figure it out. It has taken me days, even months depending on what was wrong at the time, but I've always been able to get myself through things. Now, I just don't have the time to go through my head and figure out what I'm feeling, why I'm feeling it, and what I need to get over it (or around it, or through it, etc.) All I know, is when I do actually feel something, it's absolutely NOT what I should be feeling.

And I know these last two blogs have been more like the ramblings of a crazy person, but I can't help it. This is what it's like in my brain right now. I wish I could call up the hoarders team to organize all the shit in there...that's a joke haha.

My How Time Flies...

...when you're in denial.

Well maybe not denial, exactly. For some reason, looking back on the past six months the things that stand out most to me is the downward spiral of my marriage, the birth of my niece, and the darkness looming just beneath the surface of my self.

More and more, all of the emotion I managed to avoid while being sick is creeping up on me. While I was sick I slept. I slept a lot and when I wasn't sleeping I was on the verge of sleeping. Suddenly a year later I find myself so emotional that I don't even recognize myself anymore. Built Ford tough as I was, am now constantly on the verge of tears, unable to find a moment to myself to deal with all that has happened. Wondering what it was all for. For what reason did it happen to me? It hasn't made me stronger - if anything, I'm much weaker. It didn't strengthen my marriage, my friendships, my relationships with anyone - if anything it has weakened all of those too. I find myself enjoying the company of no one. I find myself feeling so alone in the middle of a crowd of people I know and love; watching them in slow motion as they laugh and interact, knowing nothing of the pain I carry.

I think this all started to hit me when I heard about my aunt's uteran cancer returning...despite no longer having a uterus. My first instinct was to reach out to her, but I quickly realized that in doing so, I would have to face my own reality...the one I had been trying so hard to forget.

My husband and I hadn't even touched each other in months and rather than living "together" we just coexisted. My unhappiness growing. But rather than dealing with facing cancer, I faced him. After some counseling and talking, we're a work in progress but I can't say that I'm happy yet...whatever that means.

My family feels like I'm isolating them since I don't feel I can confinde in anyone about anything. It's not my intention, I just don't know how they could possibly understand and I don't know how to make them.

Sometimes I day dream about an island. Metaphor? Maybe.

And there lies my problem: Life's Too Short Syndrome. I can't help but asking myself "If Dr. Howard told me I only had three months to live, would I want to keep doing what I'm doing?" And the answer is a big, fat NO. So how do I balance that feeling with what I am doing now? And I'm so sick of always doing what I'm supposed to do. Always being the good girl; doing the right thing for everyone else. What the fuck about me?

This feeling has become even more present lately. I baked Skye's birthday cake and suddenly I feel like I'm surrounded by people telling me what kind of cake I'm going to make them for their birthdays. What the fuck about my birthday? Who's going to take my request? Who's going to make me a birthday cake?

I guess it boils down to my wanting to be selfish. For once in my life, I want it to be about MY life. Me.

Is that so wrong?

I did finally write my aunt a letter an admitted that the reason it took me so long, was because in writing to her about her cancer I had to face my own experience (and here comes that lump in my throat and the welling of the tears). I told her that I had nothing profound to say to her to make her feel better about what she was going thru. I told her that I just wanted her to know that I know and that if she ever needs me, I am here.

Ugh...hubby just busted me crying.

So now here I am, miss "Got it Together", is so falling apart. I feel like that game Break the Ice.

My marriage counselor sucks. I don't want to waste my precious minutes on this earth in counseling anyway, and I really don't care if that makes me a bad wife. Sadly, I fear it makes me a bad mother and so I keep working at it for them. Some days feel hopeful and others feel like I'm settling and every day I think of that island.

I have been finding much joy in just looking at my girls. Those moments between cooking breakfast and taking complaints when I can just watch them. And now I have a new niece that brings me joy. Island. What? Who said that?

Anyway, due to my latest emotional state, I've decided to start blogging again. I know that this blog is kinda out of order and all over the place, but I had to catch you up and well, quite frankly I'm all over the place. So now you're where I am. Are you catching on?

Until next blog...

It's been awhile...

It's been a long while. June was my last cancer appointment, and everything was clear. It's coming up on the one year anniversary since my last treatment and I suppose that's exciting.

Not so exciting is that my emotional state, which is now forcing me to deal with all the shit I never dealt with. I have been a super-emotional mess lately, tears always on the verge just waiting for any reason to come out. Then at marraige counseling (more about that later), I said it out load..."I never really dealt with being sick, I just kinda slept thru it all." And that's the bottom line isn't it. I need to deal with what I went thru in my own way; however I can't do that because I am NEVER EVER EVER alone. So Bryan's assignment was to find me some alone time, but so far he hasn't.

We've been going to counseling, but I have to admit that I know the problem is more me than him. I know that I need to work on myself...my mental state, my physical state, my emotional state. I also know that I can't possibly do both. So what do I do? What's more important? Who's more important? My kids are the most important thing to me - this is why I'm trying so hard to be content in my marriage. But if I don't take care of myself, what good am I going to be to them? In order to take care of myself, I'll have to neglect my marriage, and it can't really afford to be neglected any more than it already has. And so I'm at a mental impass with all of these things.

So I am a complete mess.

I've been reading the book Women, Food, and God and most pages make me cry. There are some things in there that really, really hit home for me.

Reality Check

Today I found out an old friend of mine died yesterday. We aren't close anymore, but I would see him from time to time. It's hitting me way harder than I think it should. Perhaps with everything I went thru I'm more "sensitive" to these things, or maybe it's just rubbing my own mortality in my face. Whatever it is, I'm so extremely distraught about it. I'm feeling so much sadness for his sister (who was one of my very best friend in high school) and his mother (who used to make me lunch every day). For all of his friends, for him, and for myself. He had one of the biggest hearts I've ever known.

Fog

Yesterday I remembered suddenly, that I was supposed to take the twins to see their teacher on Friday...last Friday. I could use excuses like River being sick or Raine having a reaction to her shot; but when I'm really honest with myself I know that when I woke up Friday morning I had absolutely no idea that I was supposed to take them.

I've been trying to write things down on my calendar and I'm doing pretty good with that, but not very good with checking it every morning. I told Bryan I wanted sticky notes for Valentine's Day.

On Facebook, people have been posting a pic of them with their "sweetheart" and stating how long they've been together. In the spirit of Valentine's Day (which is a crock to me, but whatever), I posted a pic of Bryan and I and put how long we've been together. It's easy to figure out the numbers by dates. A friend posted that she can't believe it's been that long already. To be honest, I don't feel that way at all. When I think back to my wedding it seems like a different lifetime. It's like there's a river of fog between "now" and "then", but I can't figure out when exactly in time the fog lifts.

And even more honestly, I feel as tho Skye has fallen into that fog...or at least the early years when I built our strong bond. I find myself grasping at it, but it's just out of my reach. It's breaking my heart. I look at her and can't remember when she was a baby. I mean, I can remember it, but it seems so long ago and only key moments stick out in my head - ironically the same key moments that are caught on photograph.

The two ways I can explain my mind is this:

1-when I'm just looking back to the past: a river of fog - like a line separating "then" and "now", without knowing when exactly "then" ends and "now" begins.

2-trying to remember something specific: swimming downward in mud toward the memory.

I don't know at what point I should bring this up to my doctor. Everything I've read says that if you have problems after 6 months, some say a year. I'm definately going to bring it up at my March appointment...if I remember.

New Worries

The other night, around 8pm my cell phone rang. It was a familiar number, but I couldn't place it so I answered it. It was my OB. He told me not to panic, that he just wanted to call me because there was a "question" on my pap test and that because of all the chemo I was on this year he wants to take a look at my cervix thru a microscope.

Half of me doesn't think it's a big deal. I just had a PET scan two weeks before that and it didn't show anything...or did it? I mean, they did miss my big green lung when they looked at my very first PET scan, why not miss a little ol' cervix? This leads me to the other half of me who is worried and pissed off and sick of this shit. I just started relaxing and not being such a paranoid android. I just started feeling more positive about my prospects on living for awhile. And of coarse, there's the matter of this happening pretty much around the same time as I found the mass in my neck next last year.

So I looked up my test results online. They said that I tested positive for high risk of HPV, but that no actual HPV was detected. This "question" could just be due to chemo causing cells to be abnormal or it could be more. At this point I'm trying to not even think about it. I mean, why bother? I'm going on February 1st to be violated some more.

After having two pregnancies, three kids, and cancer I think that pretty much everyone has seen my ass. I do believe that if someone offered to pay me to run around naked I would. Why not?

Epic Fail

Today was the K4 open house; the last day of the "Dinosaur Days" in the classroom. We got a note home on Monday about it. The twins came home yesterday with stickers advertising the event. I wrote it in my planner. It was very important to them and I told them we'd stop in after we picked up Skye from school today.

We went to pick up Skye, and she ended up going to her friend's house after school. Bryan picked her up at 5:00 and when they came home, she told me she wanted to go to the open house...

As if I hadn't known about it in the first place, I completely forgot about it.

I scrambled thru their dirty laundry basket, loathing myself for being so defective and found the sticker. So very lucky for me, it went until 6pm but that didn't make me feel any better.

We all walked up to the school together, me in tears the whole time at the knowledge that something so important to them could just slip into the black hole in my mind. I've always thought that being a mom was something I was really good at, but not today. Of course I was glad that no one noticed I'd been completely blank about it, not so much that no one noticed my tears.

Menstrual Ranting

Right now, I'm irate. I'm hormonal. I'm dealing. I'm sick of dealing. I'm expected to just go back to normal. I'm expected to be quiet, nice Sarah. I'm not that person anymore, at least I don't feel like I am. I don't feel very nice and I really don't feel very quiet. I'm trying to plan the twins birthday party and already there's a problem just with the date. I should have it this day instead or in the afternoon so so-and-so can come. So here it is, the honest to God truth. I don't give a shit who comes to the fucking party.

I remember last year on the day before their birthday I was called into the doctor's office to be told I probably have cancer. Did I whine about the birthday party? Did I cancel it? No, I stayed up pretty late, decorating cakes and cleaning. I put all of my all into the damn thing, as mother's do. I pretended there was nothing wrong so that my girls wouldn't associate their birthday to my getting sick, but I associate it that way. So forgive me for being overly emotional and extra crabby. Forgive me that for once you have to listen to me rant and rave rather than the other way around.

I am so sick and tired of everything. Tired of listening all the time and never talking. Tired of talking and never being listened to. Tired of my job. Tired of my house. Tired of my shoes. Tired of my hair. Tired of bending over backwards to please everyone and never feeling pleased. Tired of standing in a room full of people and feeling alone. I feel bitter and spiteful and full of anger and I just want to tell the whole world to fuck off right now.

And this is how I feel today. Tomorrow may be different, and by Monday I will probably have been able to push this all back down to wherever it came from. Back to the darker side of me.

Snow Globes and Scars

I just drove home from work in a snow "storm" and it was so beautiful. I felt like I was inside of a snow globe. I actually had some pretty intense feelings about it. Just like with the Christmas lights, I felt as if I was watching the snow fall for the very first time. It made me sad that I hadn't appreciated it this much before and happy I was alive to experience it. As with most of my mood swings, the sad easily dominates the rest of my feelings and I find my self scanning my foggy mind for something better to focus on. I found myself wishing I had a bottle of wine and someone to walk with in this beauty.

I've been feeling agitated more and more lately as events are coming up on me fast and I'm having a hard time putting my attention on them. There's a bridal shower, the twins birthday, a bachelorette party, and a wedding (all of which I'm looking forward to). I can't remember what I'm supposed to do, if I did it, etc. I'm always distracted by something...look it's a unicorn!

And speaking of the wedding, I went to try on my dress and got a little choked up seeing a big ugly mediport scar sticking out. It may as well have been blinking "look at me". I hate it. It makes me want to wear a t-shirt under my dress. I'm thinking "Tits Houdini" is gone forever. As if I don't have enough body issues without adding all my cancer scars to the mix. I've pretty much overcome the one on my neck since it's tiny and scarves are in style right now. The armpit isn't that big of a deal since I don't usually walk around waving my arm in the air. But the chest - all mixed in with my pride and joy tattoo...having a hard time embracing that part of me.