Waiting. Room?

I'm here at the cancer center watching mother somehow rest peacefully while poison slithers through her veins. There's a strangely calming silence in a chemotherapy treatment room and many telling smiles are exchanged amongst strangers here. There is no need for explanation... no small talk...no curiosity. We are all here because someone we love has cancer and it really fucking sucks.

In a weird sort of way, it's comforting.

Mom seems to be doing much better than I am. Either she's hiding it well or she isn't half as scared as I am. She's fighting cancer... I'm fighting the urge to cry. "Be strong. Just be strong," I keep telling myself. She can't know I'm afraid. Can't know that life without her hardly seems like a life worth living. She can't know that I'd happily stop everything I'm doing and spend every waking moment getting her through this if I could... because I can't make that happen. But oh, oh, do I want to.

During our time here, I have managed to lure my very selfish cousin up to visit mom, as well as pick a fight with my "boyfriend." I decided it was wrong for him not to be more interested and supportive today, without actually telling him. Then I did tell him (via text) and decided he wasn't responding the way I want him to. Sabotage? Probably. But, mom's treatment is going to go on for at least six months and if he's really in this... really trying to be a part of my life... well... he's going to have to try harder. I tend to think it's a much lonelier feeling to have people in your life (that are supposed to care) fail you, that it might just be easier to literally be alone in the first place. Why wouldn't he offer to be here? I certainly would have and I also wouldn't have been totally focused on "golf weekend." No, I'm not a man, so perhaps I simply can't understand... but when I think of the family I have and the family I want... golf clubs don't come before hard times.

The "boyfriend" initially mentioned we'd see each other Wednesday. I hadn't even had the chance to tell him I had a work event that night. He also said we'd see each other this coming Sunday. But last night, he mentioned he'd be tired on Monday so Tuesday would be better. Really? He doesn't plan on seeing me for nine days? I work full time, and am here with mom during chemo and this unemployed schmuck can't manage to see me for nine days?! HE'S going to be too tired?!

Tempted. I'm tempted to dump him. Maybe he needs room. Maybe I do. Maybe he needs to see what nine days are like without me... maybe without any contact at all. Maybe it's time to move on. Maybe I'm just acting out because I'm scared as hell and I feel like no one can understand or find the right thing to say. Maybe I watched too many movies and expect life to be more than what it truly can... Maybe I'm expecting too much? Or not enough...

Crazy Little Thing Called... Life

Tomorrow is mom's first visit with the oncologist for lifelong cancer battle #3, current battle #2. This is step 1 in determining the schedule of her chemotherapy to fight the cancer they have found in her lymph nodes.

Step 1 in my own official freak out.

So much has been happening. So many things that grab you by the heart in one hand, and the brain in the other, squeezing tightly to see which one cries "Uncle!" first. Last week, I was unexpectedly asked to run for office. (Please envision whatever facial expression best communicates "What the fuck?!" to you now.) Being one of those seemingly delusional people that actually believes you can change the world... I was flattered, thrilled, and ready.

However, after a brief courtship with mythical opportunity and many secret meetings reminiscent of bat caves and kryptonite... reality, my love for my mother and cancer punched me right in my frontal lobe. As it should have.

The very thought of not being there for my mother... not being there if things got bad, or really bad, was absolutely horrifying me. I could not sleep. I was already guilty of the unthinkable for thinking. And I really mean guilty.

My mom is my world... and my world is being threatened. Like a classic game of battleship... life was trying to outwit me. Trying to distract me and weaken my strategy to survive. My strategy to get my mom to survive.

I was neglecting myself... my own life... my mother's life... the simple things that bring me the most joy. Oh this thing, this crazy little thing we call life.

More. Cancer.

Mom got her pathology reports back today. And... there's more cancer.

Damn't.

After all of these surgeries, and a hopeful report back from the surgeon, it looks like the thing we feared most, chemotherapy, is next on this terrible journey. Not that there ever is a good time for chemotherapy, but my brother just accepted a job out of state. Having him living with her through all of this has been a major factor in my surviving this ordeal.

The cancer is in fact in her lymph nodes, so the doctors have decided she needs "sandwich therapy" which involves chemotherapy, radiation, and then more chemotherapy. Mom's just not the healthiest person, cancer aside, and this whole chemo thing just scares the shit out of me, frankly.

I don't know what this means for any of us and of course I'm not happy with the news. I barely made it through this last surgery without losing my mind. I can't imagine months of vomiting, hair loss, pale skin and test results that seem to take forever.

Am I strong enough?

Is she strong enough?

Troubled Waters. Where's the bridge?!

I'm officially submerged in the troubled waters of cancer, trying to make a relationship work and seriously failing, fielding calls and emails... trying to act like everything is okay when I really just want to cry and perhaps kill people. Well... I know I don't want to kill people, but the thought of having one less person to lie to and say I'm "okay" sure is appealing.

My was-boyfriend, now who-knows-what-the-fuck-but-I-think-we-broke-up guy was champ enough to meet me today so I could re-hash our disastrous Opening Day excursion with 17 of his friends and family that somehow still managed to say they all liked me even though I was seething mad at him by the end of the night.

Boy do I hide things well.

Anyway, I couldn't eat dinner despite only surviving on an orange for the entire day at work and finally asked him to have my food wrapped while I stepped out to avoid crying in public. We then went to the river's edge and I did the unthinkable (for me) and told him everything that had been weighing so heavily on my soul... complete with tears and strange gurgling sounds from my very upset stomach.

"You're not going to throw up are you?"

Thank God I didn't.

Mom's 6th surgery is tomorrow at 2 and I'm praying for her life and my sanity that this is the end of this whole life-isn't-fair-and-cancer-sucks chapter in our lives. I'm at my breaking point. I can't hide it anymore and I just really do need to be "okay..." if only for a day. If only for a day...

Fighting

So much fighting these days! Mom's already fighting breast cancer and now the latest discovery: she has uterine cancer to fight as well. During our all day stay at the "prestigious" hospital, I fought with the nurse...

I've been fighting the urge to break under the pressure. I've been fighting fatigue. Fighting my house that doesn't want to stay organized while I fight all these fights. Fighting with my boss. Fighting with my missing socks. Fighting to find time for myself. Fighting my gut instinct that my wanted-to-be-exclusive guy is a schmuck because maybe it's really me... That resulted in a fight through texting.

I thought I was a lover not a fighter. Wait. I AM a lover not a fighter. What the hell has happened here?

It's Complicated. And bullshit too! (A rant...)

• I've been on the treadmill doing extensive cardio FIVE DAYS A WEEK and now weigh the same as I did when I started...
• My mom had exploratory surgery Monday and she now has MORE cancer, different cancer...
• I barely slept
• My boss pissed me off
• I'm premenstrual
• My 5 date guy was on a date with someone else tonight, which he's entitled to, but I didn't like it
• I don't know what to do about the not liking it
• I hate bitching!

Debriefing

No, this isn't a post about removing a man's underwear...

Mother's unexpected surgery led to a busier than expected week and less frequent posting. In honor of my beloved efficiency, I will summarize the week's goings-on (or lack thereof):

Mom did well with her surgery. Because it was less extensive, she didn't have to have as much anesthesia, which was quite comforting to know. She is back to living with a drain and having a visiting nurse. To help fight the infection, she is also on antibiotics. Yesterday, she had her appointment with the oncologist, during which they decided she should proceed with hormone therapy. Personally, I was very worried about the thought of her enduring chemotherapy. She's already in a vulnerable state of health, and chemo isn't for sissies! Let's just hope this works and she is on the road to a cancer-free life!

There's not much action on the dating front, but I did make a bold move and called one of the contenders. I got his voice mail. Making a phone call is really no big deal in the real world of dating, but when we're talking about the online oddity... things transpire quite differently, if you are smart, that is. At this point, I'm rather intrigued by two gentlemen, and shockingly enough, I'm considering giving "the Wizzer" a chance to redeem himself... from relieving himself. We spoke briefly tonight and he made some points I couldn't argue with. He thinks I should just take a chance and meet up with him this weekend. For me, it's more of an issue of whether or not I have something cute to wear that actually fits! My pre-Halloween/Christmas candy jeans are just a wee-bit too tight... and would make me look slutty, or fat; the jeans I bought on December 30th for this very reason, are now so big they look like I crapped my pants. So what's a girl to do? I suppose I could opt for the always-fits skirt (which would require going on a fancier date) or simply wait a week or so until I lose a few more inches to fit into my used-to-be-cute jeans. Do men have to deal with this shit? I mean, really.

On the subject of weight loss, I have been eating well, for the most part. The photo is of last night's dinner: a small chicken breast that marinated in fat-free Italian dressing overnight and was then baked in the oven, some very delicious veggies, and a helping of Spanish rice. It would have been an evening to be proud of, except for desert, I ate about 9 Hershey's kisses... some were almond, some mint, some candy cane (I don't like the plain ones). Both the girls in the office ate Twix bars this afternoon. I did not!! A small victory for me!

When I pulled in the drive from work, I was greeted by a small group of strangers. This poor man with his two teen boys in tow had just hit a dog on the busy street that runs parallel to mine. Not only was he kind enough to stop, he followed the dog as it ran into the yard on the other side of the fence. This poor animal had bled quite a bit and suffered a serious injury to its hind leg. If that man had simply driven off, we would not have known the dog was there and it surely would have died... cold and alone in the bright red snow. The officer that responded to our call was a very nice man who pulled some strings to get the dog in for medical treatment. It had a collar, but no tags, so we couldn't contact the owner. I made my cat say a little prayer with me in hopes the dog survives and lives a long and happy life. Well, maybe the cat didn't pray, but I like to believe she is gracious, considering she was rescued as well.

My brother is coming to my rescue shortly. I ordered a large cabinet to fill the hole in my living room that resulted from rearranging the furniture to accommodate the now-taken-down Christmas tree. I found the new furniture arrangement actually made better use of my living space, and it would be lovely to have a place to drop my keys when I come in the door, since I rarely seem to know where they are. However, the cabinet arrived sooner than expected and I'm tired of looking at this big box with its utterly incomprehensible assembly directions. Normally, I'm very handy and competent, but these directions are the kind that only an engineer's mind would appreciate. My brother has an engineering background (and hopefully more patience than I do!).

Once again, I forgot to make plans for the weekend. Now, my exciting, romance-lacking weekend consists of assembling a cabinet tonight, and tending to the oven while my friend is at her brother's funeral so people have something to eat when they come to her house on Sunday. I REALLY need to find more enjoyable alternatives for the weekend!

She's Out!

Mom made it out of surgery just now. Her wound from December's surgery had become infected and they had to go back in to clean it and reinsert a drain. It's a setback... but thankfully, a minor one. She will have to have a visiting nurse again and the drain will be in for 1-2 weeks. Aside from a suspicious rash she noticed this morning, she appears to be doing well.

Because of her unexpected surgery, results from the oncology testing will have to wait until she can reschedule. So here we are, eight weeks into her cancer journey, and somehow, still in the same spot.

When people talk about fighting cancer, they always mention strength and hope; when sometimes the most important thing is patience.

Sunday Summary

Choosing to lay low this weekend has proven to be the best thing I could have done for myself. I'm amazed at how quickly the sense of stress and strain lifted after I tackled neglected tasks. It is no longer Christmas in my house, everything is clean and tidy, and I found two bills that needed to be paid a couple weeks ago in the pile on my desk. I knew something had to have gotten lost in the shuffle!

I stopped by mom's today after I took out the garbage. During my visit I found out she had to go to the doctor today because she has drainage from another location near her surgery. She said she wouldn't gross me out with the details, but she may have an infection. It looks like they are going to have to perform surgery tomorrow to find out what is wrong. This is unsettling to me because of her prior issues after her mastectomy and we were really looking forward to having some treatment answers on Tuesday, and I'm assuming her appointment will have to be rescheduled.

Had I not gotten all of these tedious things done around the house, this news might have pushed me closer to the edge I've barely managed to avoid. The past few months have been extremely draining and thankfully I now know how precious balance is in life, so I'm wise enough to forgo more exciting things and rest when I can. When there is chaos you can't control at work and in your family life, being able to come home to a clean house, and knowing you have paid your bills is extraordinarily comforting; at least to me, anyway.

I asked my brother to go for a walk shortly after the news and we went down to the park to feed the ducks. Most of the river is frozen, so the poor guys had to waddle across the ice to feast on the old bread and bagel treats we brought for them. One big white duck was actually eating out of my hand! That kind of stuff makes me happy and I certainly needed the exercise. Spending time with my brother isn't too bad either.

Let's hope all goes well tomorrow. Thankfully, the office is closed tomorrow so I don't have to worry about missing work. I'd like not to worry about much anymore... but sometimes life has other plans for us and we just have to make the very best of it.

New Year. New Blog.

Well, it's 2010. A new year. A new decade. And... it's time for Mona Lake to get real. Get serious. Get living.

And get a "new" blog.

This blog originated from a nagging need for a purpose in life when I found myself unexpectedly unemployed prior to the nation wide implosion of the economy. The world had carried on without me. I was depressed. Bored. And scared shitless. With that 10 month bout of unemployment came peaks and valleys of emotions that led to my blog becoming a pseudo bi-polar paradise of topic-of-the-day randomness.

Now that I am gainfully employed, and frankly, out of excuses... it's time to get back to what I wanted this blog to be. What I want to be.

I'm afraid. I admit it. I'm afraid that my love boat may have already sailed off without me. I'm afraid my mother will die of cancer and my grandparents will start dropping like flies. As a result, I'm afraid I'll wind up regretting not starting a family of my own... because I was too busy being afraid.

I'm 38. For a few more months. If I have even the slightest desire to ever have a child, simple math tells me that I had better start living my life in such a way that might make that remotely possible. This means I'm going to have to give up the boring security the ill-fitting sweatpants and anti-social behaviors I acquired during my stint as Jobless Jody, and get out there and date!

DATE?!?!

Fuck.

Trying to be proactive, I posted a profile on an online dating site right before Thanksgiving. The very next week, I found out my mother has cancer again. For those of you who haven't yet found yourself 38, lonely and dateless; flirting shamelessly through emails with guys on a dating site and deciding whether to go bowling with mrlovemachine23987* or have coffee with bitterdivorcevictim69* when your mother has cancer... just doesn't sit right in your head and heart.

A few days after the news sunk in... I began to realize that not only was my mother's mortality in jeopardy, my grandparents are all "getting long in the tooth." They are all in their late 70's to late 80's. Again... the simple math comes into play here. They aren't going to live forever, no matter how hard I wish them to. What will my life be like once everyone is gone? Family is everything to me.

This is when the "kid thing" surfaced in my brain. I think the kid thing has always been there, but I buried it amongst the fear and selfishness that seems so much more affordable than years of diapers, school shoes, braces and college tuition. And let's not forget it only takes one person to be afraid and selfish. If I recall correctly, it takes two people for the kid thing... and at least 20 minutes.

So here I am... trying to find a way to make this all work. Trying to find a way to be there for my mother, but not lose myself at the same time. Trying to find a way to lose the weight I gained while sitting on my ass as life passed me by... and trying to find "the one."

And Snow it Goes...

Unfortunately, the bad winter storms brought us more than just a lot of snow... they also brought us bad news. Despite the surgeon's impression that the nodes he saw during mother's mastectomy appeared normal, the pathology reports indicate there are more cancer cells that need to be removed. She must now undergo an additional surgery the first week of January. She is still having trouble with her blood pressure after last week's surgery, so I am very concerned about her having more anesthesia so soon after. But, we also can't risk allowing the cancer to grow and spread...

Over the weekend, I got the house cleaned and the bills paid. I was actually starting to feel a little less anxious and stressed. "I can do this," I thought. Until Monday came. Cancer is just an ugly little monster. It destroys the body, and constantly invades the mind. Just as I get to feeling strong enough to be strong for my mother, and strong for the family; just as I start to feel confident I can control the urge to cry at the most minute of things... I feel my insides constrict and the all of the air disappears from my lungs.

Why can't it just go away? Why can't we all just get back to simply living and loving? Why couldn't we have gotten news that they got it all? Why can't I get this out of my head? Why am I such a wuss?

Your friends don't know what to say to you and you don't know what to say to them. Family and friends are concerned and want to know the latest news... but sometimes you are just so sick of reliving it every time you give the report that you just want to scream! You don't feel like talking to anybody but you don't want to be alone either. You just want to talk about "normal," happy things... but you don't want to seem like a heartless, self-absorbed bitch either. You're angry. Sad. Scared. This is how crazy cancer makes you feel... .and you don't even have it! How the hell does my MOM feel?! I can't even imagine; and she will never truly tell.