Still Polly

"The treadmill is going to have to be, uh. Relocated," I told him. No immediate reaction came from Bob. He was laying on the couch, and seemed calm, so I went on to tell him all the design and aesthetic reasons why it would need to be moved from its current spot in the basement. No reaction at all. "Oh, and I'm sorry you dropped it on your foot trying to get it in the house so fast because I was on a crying jag." This stuff really happens. Crying jags, laughing fits, and rants are pretty common right now. I had a moment on Sunday while Bob was golfing that I thought I'd go ahead and try the false eyelash thing. I don't know what kind of witchcraft those women use in the videos I watched, but when I tried it the result was really, really terrifying looking. Glue everywhere. Weird bits sticking out at angles. I ripped them off and threw them down like they were spiders. Can't do it. At the time it was borderline crying jag, but every time I t...

"What are you two celebrating tonight?" Bob said, "I'm really glad she didn't ask us that." I had to laugh. We planned our Saturday date night because, for all we know, it will be one of the last times I'll feel like going out to a nice dinner for quite a while. So we were "celebrating" the fact that I still feel good, still have an appetite, I love a juicy filet, and I love going to dinner with my best friend, my honey, and the one who still laughs at all my jokes (all the same guy). It was like the perfect night, starting with Mass at 4 pm. The homily was about 3 minutes long, which could be a new record for brevity, even for our parish priest. He encouraged us to look for the Lazaruses in our lives, reminding us that in 2016 Lazarus doesn't only live under bridges or in shelters, he could be much closer to us than we think. A great, great reminder. We got to the restaurant a little early, even for "early bird special" p...

"How did the wig party go?" he text me. So for a while now I've wondered how this was going to work. I will be shaving my head soon and going for the wig. So it makes you think: do I just show up at work the next morning with a wig? I played this out in my mind, and didn't like it. I work in an open office area with a couple of departments sharing space. I think we're all pretty close, I mean we see each other every single day. We know when someone's sick, when they got a haircut, when they've lost weight. We talk about families, kids, vacations, issues, ideas -- you know, it's my office family. Plus, they have gone through this whole thing with me, from the time I first got the diagnosis. So they all know about my decision to go the wig route. But the thought of just showing up with "new hair" seemed weird. I would be putting them in a position, you know? Do they say "nice wig" (in which case I wonder if they're saying it...

"Tell Bob my blood pressure was good," I told my mother-in-law.  I had the vague feeling she was on the phone with him, as I was coming in and out of consciousness. I also got the feeling I had said this out loud before, more than once, and I had maybe even text this information to Bob before the surgery. I had.  I had just had a "power port" put in, located just below my left collar bone. Before the surgery I asked a lot of questions -- like will it "catch" on things like straps or clothes. "Most people don't even know its there," I was told. Although, she explained, that for someone my size, it may be somewhat visible from the outside. This thing, about the size of a quarter, is put just under the skin, and includes a tube that goes into a vein. This makes it easier to administer the chemo drugs, as well as take blood for lab work, without having to put in an IV each time. What I didn't realize was that it would still require a ...

"I'm crocheting a hair hat," I told Bob. "That sounds about right," he said. I started a Pinterest board called "Chemo stuff." This is me, preparing. Food and Drink Search terms on this topic have included "food during chemo," "infused water," and "ginger candy recipes." I have read they recommend eliminating red meat, dairy, processed foods, deli meat, pastries, and a few other things -- including booze. All totally doable. To drink more water I'm going to try some fun infusions (depending on what my stomach will tolerate), and I'm on the hunt for ginger-everything to help with nausea. Good thing I like ginger. Health and Fitness I admit it. I have searched, "avoiding weight gain during chemotherapy." (Stop. Don't have a meltdown on me. I'm not going to do anything stupid, and even if I'm tempted I've got Bob to reel me back in.) I have been doing a lot of reading about what t...

"Any medical conditions?" I stood gaping at the woman behind the pharmacy counter. "I don't know how to answer that question," I said, with a little more tone in my voice than I really intended. She shrugged, "um." "Well, I had CANCER. So I guess that's a medical condition." "Do you still have it?" she asked me. The tone was there because Bob and Riley were waiting in the car while I ran in to get my prescription filled. Which doesn't sound like a big deal except that Riley was a mess and ready to be out of the car. And Bob was sick and in a ton of pain. And it wasn't improving. Yesterday was the day . The day I would find out what's coming and when, and the day when I would hopefully be closer to being prepared for chemo when it starts. I spent time on my hair, outfit, and accessories. Satisfied with the look, I thought, here we go. It never occurred to me that it would be anything but a day of discovery, ...

"You look great." You. Look. Great. A very, very sweet compliment I have been receiving from people at church, friends, family. Because compliments in general make me twitchy, I usually squeak out something like, "oh, thanks" or "I try" or I just chuckle, blush, and mutter something incoherent.  I'll admit it, I do look pretty good for just having had major surgery. I'm maintaining my weight, my new haircut is working well, I'm dressing more comfortably, if not a tad slouchy, and that feels good. But. There's always a "but" with me.  When I had the remaining drain taken out last Thursday, it was my expectation that the nurse would remove the steri strips at the same time. These are like "paper stitches" that were covering the incision, from my sternum all the way into my arm pit. The actual sutures are inside. Sort of a blind stitch I guess. "I am happy to take these off," she told me, "b...

"No, no, I'll be fine," I told my mother-in-law. "I'm not ready for driving in traffic, but I think I can manage to get from Roanoke to your house." This was the calm part. This was after I had performed my ADLs, picked out a cute outfit (with stuffing boob) and was looking forward to getting the drain out and then wig shopping ! Which is like shopping, right, only for wigs ! The plan was foolproof. I would just get Riley to hop into the backseat, and then zip him over to Zach's for doggy day care, and then drive to mom's to start the drain/wig adventure. But, nothing goes as planned right now, of course.  Riley nearly ran under the wheels of the mail truck. He would not jump into the back seat. I had to shove him in and slam the door. He played keep away from Zach and had to be dragged out of the car at doggy day care. On I-69 a blue car coming off the on-ramp spun out on the wet pavement, hit the guard rail, swerved across three l...

Fasten your seatbelts, it's going to be a bumpy post. And by that I mean I just have a bunch of random things rattling around that I need to get down before I forget it all.  1. The pain. Forgetting it all is a real concern right now, since I have had to go back to pain pills in the past two days. I really thought I was done with them, but no. Pain management is a real thing, and I just ignored that fact. When you hurt a lot for a long time, it's exhausting. I think I cried yesterday a few times for no real reason other than I was tired of hurting. And when I wasn't crying, I was just flat out angry. Seething mad. The pain meds do make me drowsy, but then when it was time to sleep, I couldn't. The only place I can get comfortable is folded up into a little ball on the loveseat. I really need to get a picture of it somehow.  2. The house. I haven't mentioned this yet, or if I have it was in passing, but while all this is going on with me, we'r...

"About an inch in the back and sides, and maybe an inch and a half on top," I told her. No questions asked. Let the shampooing begin. There are times when you just know you need to make a change, a wholesale change, that will make a difference in your life and mind, starting today. And for me that change was the new, almost-buzz cut. The first few days home I was too much in pain to really care. But when I started showing up, that is making an effort to feel and look semi-human, my hair started really bothering me. The long-ish bangs were annoying, the sides were bushy and uncooperative, and the back was flattened because: naps. The other issue I've been dealing with for a few months now is that my hair has thinned a bit, so now my hair growth patterns are more obvious which leads, hysterically, to a Mohawk that I have to tame with mousse and gel and round brush and blow dryer and in some cases even a flat iron. Yep, it's that dramatic. Women will understand...

"I'm experimenting with a stuffing boob. Riley thinks its a toy." Probably one of the stranger texts Bob has seen from me in a while. For whatever reason, I think it's important to show up every day. Unless I feel so bad, like migraine day, that I just can't do it, I like to get up, have my coffee, do my Scripture reading, reflections, and Examen, and then my ADLs, including a change of clothes. It makes me feel like a human, even if I do spend a good portion of the day under a blanket on the couch. And, even if the clothes include leggings, yoga pants, or like today, joggers. Let's call it post-mastectomy "athleisure," okay? Anyway, today I had made up my mind to wear a cute pair of Gap joggers that are a black and gray marl (guys, don't worry, just ask a woman what that means). I picked a cute, slouchy heather gray tee that has "Merci" across the front in these black bead-type things. Merci, because "thank you" f...

"I'm a bit of a crepe hanger," she said. One of the problems to be solved in this mess called mastectomy recovery was the accurate recording of the drains. I want to do a good job. I don't want to miss this. They sent me home with a sheet that looked like it was photocopied from the original mimeograph chart used since 1948. Columns and rows gave me room to write in the ccs and a column to total. "If you want to total them, that's fine or... you can leave it for them to do," the nurse said in the hospital. Heck, yes I'll let them total it. What am I? Rebelling against the ancient sheet, I started writing the volume down in a little spiral memo pad I'd been dragging with me for notes. After the first couple of times, this seemed just as old-fashioned a method as the first. I have a phone. I have technology. I can improve on this, I thought. So, I started using the "Keep" app, thinking "see, this way I can EMAIL the file to t...