tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11878138692794626712024-03-06T01:09:25.807-07:00Getting Rid of GrazeldaThis blog is by Margarethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04074363859653866017noreply@blogger.comBlogger106125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1187813869279462671.post-30287632155068265042011-01-26T20:09:00.000-07:002011-01-26T20:09:33.331-07:00g.I’ve heard about The Healing Process in tones that make it sound like something to be approached with lots of Prayer and Yoga and Sprouted Grains. For me, it’s a little more like getting over an intense crush: I mark progress by how long I go without thinking about it. Perhaps eventually I’ll go an entire day without thinking about Grazelda, but that day has not yet come and maybe it never will: After all, in some way, the aftermath of Grazelda is the rest of my life. <br />
<br />
I do mark my milestones, though. One year to the day after my last chemo treatment I got a tattoo on my backside, about at the height Grazelda used to reside. On my front I have a 7-inch scar from my belly-button straight down because one egg in my right ovary attacked me. And now on my back I have a mark that reminds me of how I got through. <b style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">g.</b> reminds me of how well I can endure, my ability to write a darn good blog, and the sense of peace that I found pervaded my life throughout illness and treatment. <b style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">g.</b> reminds me of all the cards and emails and prayers and scarves and visits and meals and even the blog-lurkers. <b style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">g.</b> reminds me of the selfless love of my parents and sister: the time and the tears they spent and the rugs and the eggs and lasagna they made.<br />
<br />
Why <b style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">g.</b>? Right now it’s a <b style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">g</b> for grazelda. Lower case because she doesn’t deserve the respect of capitalization, or maybe because I usually sign my own name on e-mails in lower case as some bizarre form of e-humility/rebellion. A period because she’s gone, or maybe because I got mine back. <b style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">g.</b> could mean so much else, too: an initial of a future lover, a nonplussed reaction to the world as it is, or 9.8 meters per second squared. Yup, I now have a universal constant on my butt.<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsgoFw6EDXjiZj6bRNkGZj1MRcuYbDFZXXjn8jlqKrgROsj48HCmr-HDSPg5MBqPY7IPtBKNpRR3_bJbxohGFYNBRefNrhujpt5y2Ayhnh0Odv_QKCtIEY4zqIRi_zsmH_vYr_LVluLWEl/s1600/22.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="216" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsgoFw6EDXjiZj6bRNkGZj1MRcuYbDFZXXjn8jlqKrgROsj48HCmr-HDSPg5MBqPY7IPtBKNpRR3_bJbxohGFYNBRefNrhujpt5y2Ayhnh0Odv_QKCtIEY4zqIRi_zsmH_vYr_LVluLWEl/s320/22.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Photo by Melissa</span></td></tr>
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Some dear friends made this beautiful and delicious cake in honor of the occasion, one candle for my first un-cancerversary. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRzakG7Enc-MdDvjL9ALXCziLIxRBrFgZf3AoU8wE66o34lc9AeUwtW2Bm8x7gFl7Hyl4ANX0LBuIiiPs-noQ8Ew0j6JIlWG76LH6LGuEAoeiwPXAFouCjy9vN6KAHKYdVT2_4KEgIkzj5/s1600/DSCN5326.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRzakG7Enc-MdDvjL9ALXCziLIxRBrFgZf3AoU8wE66o34lc9AeUwtW2Bm8x7gFl7Hyl4ANX0LBuIiiPs-noQ8Ew0j6JIlWG76LH6LGuEAoeiwPXAFouCjy9vN6KAHKYdVT2_4KEgIkzj5/s320/DSCN5326.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo by Jennifer</td></tr>
</tbody></table>This year, at the All Soul’s Procession, I walked in memory of Grazelda again. [see last year’s post] I refashioned an old pair of pants so that the world could see the <b style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">g.</b> (and nothing else!). I wore the same shirt, but left the front down, so my scar was not the focus. This year held more closure because I know that she’s dead and gone and not coming back. <br />
<br />
Today is not a cancerversary for me. My life is not very much about cancer any more. I spent this fall dancing a lot, finishing up pre-nursing classes, working and biking and cooking good things to eat. One year later that’s all that remains: 2 scars, 1 tattoo, one less ovary, and a crop of hair that’s less curly with every trim. I have begun to associate with the Tucson chapter of the National Ovarian Cancer Coalition, and am grateful for the camaraderie of fellow survivors. I will continue to work alongside them to raise awareness, so that women can catch ovarian cancer early, and be cured. That’s one cancer-y thing that will remain in my life. But this blog is about Grazelda, and she is gone. So this will be my last post. <br />
<br />
Wishing you plenty of greens and plenty of hair, <br />
peace and health,<br />
and good friends when those things fail,<br />
<br />
mar<b>g</b>aret<br />
<div class="MsoNormal"><change about="" me=""></change></div>This blog is by Margarethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04074363859653866017noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1187813869279462671.post-51038911297993676452011-01-26T19:33:00.000-07:002011-01-26T19:33:32.697-07:00My Favorite Cancer ComicsThis blog is about to come to an end, for real this time. But I found these (like most comics at <a href="http://xkcd.com/">xkcd.com</a>) express two things I tried to say throughout Grazelda's residence - stick figures are so articulate! So here they are, inspiration for you: <br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://imgs.xkcd.com/comics/positive_attitude.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="365" src="http://imgs.xkcd.com/comics/positive_attitude.png" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br />
</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://imgs.xkcd.com/comics/sickness.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="370" src="http://imgs.xkcd.com/comics/sickness.png" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"> </td></tr>
</tbody></table>This blog is by Margarethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04074363859653866017noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1187813869279462671.post-80926293537696745232010-09-24T16:17:00.000-07:002010-09-24T16:17:07.204-07:00More Toes!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS40au6QCf4fcDwy12f_f7mwu5JkcZNv1B0Pdc89dqgOU3InEpKUaZJLzQlvFNgSV57PF1x5vucrTrSPREl-Ro_-Xgj1TTw3nI1-FkxM_UwYYqfSKD_Bcgn7rdXqkNaby_9Zr4E-_9UjKT/s320/Gayle's+Toes.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="240" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Aunt Gayle's Toes</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS40au6QCf4fcDwy12f_f7mwu5JkcZNv1B0Pdc89dqgOU3InEpKUaZJLzQlvFNgSV57PF1x5vucrTrSPREl-Ro_-Xgj1TTw3nI1-FkxM_UwYYqfSKD_Bcgn7rdXqkNaby_9Zr4E-_9UjKT/s1600/Gayle's+Toes.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_euzIEQNwXW3s2cdh8Ft5Ee5r4DsXiiQ91uposJ8m_4cRuesLMGJCfb0c4t56zziK6s1a7_9Z69aWHM9SpBHNdwpM6McXHjwAXuMQwuY1FeQnW7VgU6_6k1Tad8ihu_5QMBeI-TVXjKIK/s320/Gma's+Toes.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="320" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Grandma's Toes</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br />
</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_euzIEQNwXW3s2cdh8Ft5Ee5r4DsXiiQ91uposJ8m_4cRuesLMGJCfb0c4t56zziK6s1a7_9Z69aWHM9SpBHNdwpM6McXHjwAXuMQwuY1FeQnW7VgU6_6k1Tad8ihu_5QMBeI-TVXjKIK/s1600/Gma's+Toes.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdcteC82nn30XnppB2VLweaT3xHjGUmBcmvEnVNeUZjczE7cQSvxdd9GSdvlogSkfAgKYnRQMn2azh7DTvAXt1DWSJbyslx-pJoyUFEHMpzNrB30YlqAM8TrQy6uugyAeqlFKPF4EHT8R_/s320/IMG_0124.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="320" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dad's Toes (above); Mom's Toes (below)</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br />
</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br />
</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Thanks to everyone who has painted your toes (and it's not too late!). Your bold adornment is helping to fight cancer by raising awareness. And, as promised, triple bonus points go to DAD! Thanks, Dad!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">(If you have no idea what this post is about, read the Teal Toes post).</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
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</div><span id="goog_1308669231"></span><span id="goog_1308669232"></span>This blog is by Margarethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04074363859653866017noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1187813869279462671.post-59172241388989272232010-09-07T20:34:00.000-07:002010-09-07T20:34:31.144-07:00Teal ToesFor the first time in probably eight years, I've painted my toenails. And not some innocent shade of red, no, no, the bold, beautiful, still-feminine-if-somewhat-ambiguously-situated-between-blue-and-green color known as teal.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbzzpT-eLO9cU2oIjbuIKercGhqoiCF_3N1RBZCdEHm4BXq4JhqdcZZO4dhZb_YSb0TXr4L5ae14I3muKWpWe9RxRiSDRQIPQxKOyIKcRTPAzS7Lj-mppirlV6hk_hLga3DG0_jr4t-tIJ/s1600/DSCN1762.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="286" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbzzpT-eLO9cU2oIjbuIKercGhqoiCF_3N1RBZCdEHm4BXq4JhqdcZZO4dhZb_YSb0TXr4L5ae14I3muKWpWe9RxRiSDRQIPQxKOyIKcRTPAzS7Lj-mppirlV6hk_hLga3DG0_jr4t-tIJ/s400/DSCN1762.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br />
Why would Margaret be waltzing around with blue-ish toenails . . . and why is she writing about it here??<br />
<br />
Mainly so people will ask, because then I can tell them (and you) that teal is the "color" for ovarian cancer, and September is Ovarian Cancer Awareness Month. I had ovarian cancer, and it sucked, but I got off relatively easy: the 5-year survival rate is under 50% if it's not caught at an early stage (<a href="http://www.ovarian.org/what_is_ovarian_cancer.php">NOCC</a>). You should know the symptoms, so if you or someone you know has them for more than 2 weeks, you can get to a doctor ASAP. The big bummer about ovarian cancer is there's no screening for it (your PAP smear is an important screening for cervical cancer, but cannot check for ovarian), symptoms are often fairly general and not acute, setting on gradually, increasing the odds that it's misdiagnosed. As with so many cancers, catching it early is the key to surviving. <br />
<br />
According to the <a href="http://www.mayoclinic.com/health/ovarian-cancer/DS00293/DSECTION=symptoms">Mayo Clinic</a>, symptoms include (and these are quoted directly)<br />
<ul><li>Abdominal pressure, fullness, swelling or bloating</li>
<li>Urinary urgency</li>
<li>Pelvic discomfort or pain</li>
</ul>A woman may also experience: <br />
<ul><li>Persistent indigestion, gas or nausea</li>
<li>Unexplained changes in bowel habits, such as constipation</li>
<li>Changes in bladder habits, including a frequent need to urinate</li>
<li>Loss of appetite or quickly feeling full</li>
<li>Increased abdominal girth or clothes fitting tighter around your waist</li>
<li>Pain during intercourse (dyspareunia)</li>
<li>A persistent lack of energy</li>
<li>Low back pain</li>
<li>Changes in menstruation </li>
</ul> I was relatively lucky in that I experienced almost all of the above and very suddenly, so there was no ignoring it. But unlike Grazelda the SuperOvary, most ovarian cancers grow slowly. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.tealtoes.org/files/images/logos/tealtoes-color-teal-235.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://www.tealtoes.org/files/images/logos/tealtoes-color-teal-235.png" /></a></div>So, there's your public service announcement for the month. And no, I didn't make up the Teal Toes bit; I'm part of a movement (<a href="http://www.tealtoes.org/">www.tealtoes.org</a>), and you can be, too. Just pick up some nail polish, do your toes, and when anyone asks, tell them you have a friend who had ovarian cancer, why it's so hard to catch it early, and what the symptoms are. Bonus points if you send me picture (I'll post it here, unless you don't want me to), and triple bonus points if you're male.This blog is by Margarethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04074363859653866017noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1187813869279462671.post-44269577277062398522010-08-29T19:32:00.001-07:002010-08-29T19:33:42.031-07:00Cancerveraries<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEga5FgkZl3gOu9fMz2NEyPVcFSsJ6t3xEVUPM3bLmqf7ah9L6cZ6XsmKnDffZTQgU0l6fnfE-o9QImWhFPPC2RYMGKGzWbflLQo85PHVdEhTxZ6ebEbC_0k6gKjF8WD9Iocdid-JtoLQ-Mg/s1600/DSCN1752.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="286" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEga5FgkZl3gOu9fMz2NEyPVcFSsJ6t3xEVUPM3bLmqf7ah9L6cZ6XsmKnDffZTQgU0l6fnfE-o9QImWhFPPC2RYMGKGzWbflLQo85PHVdEhTxZ6ebEbC_0k6gKjF8WD9Iocdid-JtoLQ-Mg/s400/DSCN1752.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Curls, curls, curls!</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
One year later, I am healthy. I am strong and fit, with a head full of hair that still definitely qualifies as curly and is long enough to have already warranted a haircut. I don't have any more foreign objects in my veins, and I've been told that my big scar kind of makes it look like I have well-defined abs. Last month I had my 3-month (that's right: it had been<i> 3 months</i>) oncology checkup. Going to the familiar office was a little like a reunion, and my nurse Shirley took time to have the sort of visit that leaves me feeling full, encouraged, connected, and loved. My AFP tumor marker was a perfect 3.8, and there are no other signs of return, AND I don't go back until October.<br />
<br />
For the past month I've been playing the "One year ago today . . ." game. Sometimes emotional, sometimes hilarious, sometimes mind-blowing. This summer has been rather busy, so when yesterday I finally sat down to write this entry, I found a need to read the blog from start to finish. It's quite a read, and yet there is so much that I didn't post: lots of pathetic/dramatic stories from before diagnosis about the experience of being profoundly sick, some hilarious stories that are inappropriate for the public forum, and there were so many other people who did so much and were never mentioned. <br />
<br />
Looking back, in the beginning I know I was so overwhelmed with gratitude, helpless gratitude, that I couldn't even write about all the people who were so kind and thoughtful and giving. During those first few weeks, my parents and my sister and my roommate Jodi were right there all the time, and I was surrounded by love from near and far with visits and cards and emails and phone calls, which all brightened my spirits, even when I didn't return them. I wish I'd have written more about other people. <br />
<br />
What am I doing to commemorate these cancerversaries? Mostly, talking about it, turning over memories with my family and friends and re-reading emails and posts. I have impressive plans for Nov. 4, one year since the last chemotherapy treatment [Hint: I'm <i>not</i> getting HANK (my oncologist/surgeon/encourager) tattooed on my bicep with a big heart]. That should also be my last post. <br />
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Thanks to all who noticed the 1 year mark and wrote or called or thought about me. You were wonderful a year ago, and you are wonderful still.This blog is by Margarethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04074363859653866017noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1187813869279462671.post-67110779761032491902010-06-04T21:10:00.002-07:002010-06-04T21:12:20.688-07:00The Green Party<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTiJWHJL9aZtIwGE_Qh4vNm1bAu67YvSkoMVUxRLEH89gxoovRIx_UVujlQCQW25ZJfAJOZZBfWqUwVqlD11RHcywWgjzZInRQ3TAQ5zPUhFQpDZmIFST8ykxL4cXOLqL8Q9ZlCdPPAK8W/s1600/DSCN1727.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTiJWHJL9aZtIwGE_Qh4vNm1bAu67YvSkoMVUxRLEH89gxoovRIx_UVujlQCQW25ZJfAJOZZBfWqUwVqlD11RHcywWgjzZInRQ3TAQ5zPUhFQpDZmIFST8ykxL4cXOLqL8Q9ZlCdPPAK8W/s320/DSCN1727.JPG" /></a>The party was a great big, green hit! <br />
<br />
Along with the Great Green Vegetable Pasta came salads in all forms: Broccoli Salad, Greek Salad, Nuts 'n Greens Salad, several Spinach Salads, "Joan's Fantastic Green Spinach, Almond, and Strawberry Salad," "Kyle's Salad With The Rocking Dressing," and others.<br />
<br />
We had ¡KALE PESTO!, Parmesan Kale, Kale/Chard Quiche, Kale Stirfry, Spicy Kale Chips, Brussels Sprouts, Spinach Deviled Eggs, Black Eyed Peas, Broccoli Soup, Spinach "Brownies," and Shifted Mint Brownies. (Can you tell I made everyone write creative labels for their dishes?)<br />
<br />
Everything was delicious, although I have to say that my favorite (=good+simple+healthy+novel) were the Spicy Kale Chips by Carol. The recipe was about like <a href="http://lion-art.blogspot.com/2010/02/spicy-kale-chips.html">this</a>. Unlike your typical "Covered Dish" event, there were almost no desserts, and I don't really think they were missed. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiD-gPmxsq8q_Nhph_uyLQXTEgWp9n_7Xbl0yN7f36xPqYT8QfXTAWTdq5RtWmUQtFeaZ2E5A6gCDORmziyWikNCUg7XahuGclwPjCcqRkxCCn_zOQTBjDNfxpjaicKTjL6TIEGy67Ks67j/s1600/DSCN1739.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiD-gPmxsq8q_Nhph_uyLQXTEgWp9n_7Xbl0yN7f36xPqYT8QfXTAWTdq5RtWmUQtFeaZ2E5A6gCDORmziyWikNCUg7XahuGclwPjCcqRkxCCn_zOQTBjDNfxpjaicKTjL6TIEGy67Ks67j/s320/DSCN1739.JPG" /></a></div><br />
Of course, better than the food were the people. My duplex has never had so many people inside, and certainly not so many people dressed in Green! Even without cancer, I am surrounded by people who care about me enough to indulge my green fantasies, and together celebrate our victory over that odious tumor-ovary Grazelda.<br />
<br />
I wish that each of you readers could have been there, too, but I am grateful for your thoughts, virtual devotion, and even green recipe recommendations. I am still averaging 2 bunches of cilantro a week, and I feel great: I run at about 110% on days that I get enough sleep, and I'm hitting the ground running in my summer class of chemistry. And my hair? Still very curly. I still haven't shampooed it. I still haven't cut it. Yes, it's headed swiftly towards the 'Fro Stage. <br />
<br />
<br />
And here's my favorite Green Party Picture: <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDat2lMbLWWeMCvJpvsBys6e50MCW1hkj69soR9xdrENDSUFFWXvihy9B-l-Xrvqg7vBJ4M5tmGfotV4wDpw3WYiZahpT8BOXFfI1ykTgiRE1bHDDLg1POW1Glyggx3NSsx3LHJtRgsO6p/s1600/DSCN1738.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="297" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDat2lMbLWWeMCvJpvsBys6e50MCW1hkj69soR9xdrENDSUFFWXvihy9B-l-Xrvqg7vBJ4M5tmGfotV4wDpw3WYiZahpT8BOXFfI1ykTgiRE1bHDDLg1POW1Glyggx3NSsx3LHJtRgsO6p/s400/DSCN1738.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Bonus points for finding Bryce's spoon!</span></div>This blog is by Margarethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04074363859653866017noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1187813869279462671.post-5121616898967562212010-05-10T22:07:00.000-07:002010-05-10T22:07:30.024-07:00You're Invited to the Green Party<b style="color: black;">In honor of the demise of <span style="color: #006600;">Grazelda the deviant ovary, </span>to celebrate the close of <span style="color: #006600;">chemotherapy, coumadin,</span> and<span style="color: #006600;"> cancer,</span> for the <span style="color: #006600;">general merriment of all</span> and enjoyment of <span style="color: #006600;">foods rich in Vitamin K</span>, if you're reading this blog post, </b><br />
<div style="color: #38761d;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>YOU'RE INVITED </b></span></div><br />
<b style="color: black;">to a potluck of foods that are green.</b><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #33cc00;">What:</span> The Green Party<br />
<span style="color: #33ff33;"><span style="color: #33cc00;">When</span>:</span> Friday, May 21. 6:00 pm.<br />
<span style="color: #33cc00;">Where</span>: Margaret's House. Tucson. Email me for directions. <br />
<span style="color: #33cc00;">What to Bring:</span> a dish to share that contains some substantial amount of Vitamin K (ingredient suggestions below)<br />
<span style="color: #33cc00;">What to Wear:</span> Green, of course!<br />
<span style="color: #33cc00;">Why:</span> "Because I'd rather eat spinach than chocolate. Well, most of the time . . . " -mp<br />
<br />
There are rumors of the <b><span style="color: #006600;">Great Green Vegetable Pasta</span></b>, maybe some <b><span style="color: #006600;">All-Green Twister</span></b>, and <b><span style="color: #006600;">Jodi</span></b>'s in town!<br />
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<b><span style="color: #38761d;">RSVP</span> </b>if you get a chance to <b><span style="color: #38761d;">pennermk AT gmail DOT com </span></b><br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">***********</div><div style="text-align: center;"><b>A Dozen Foods Containing Lots of Vitamin K: </b><br />
<div style="color: #6aa84f;">Leafy Greens (except iceberg lettuce)</div><div style="color: #38761d;">Brussels Sprouts</div><div style="color: #274e13;">Broccoli</div><div style="color: #6aa84f;">Green Onions</div><div style="color: #38761d;">Asparagus</div><div style="color: #274e13;">Cilantro</div><div style="color: #6aa84f;">Cabbage/Sauerkraut</div><div style="color: #38761d;">Okra</div><div style="color: #274e13;">Black-eyed peas</div><div style="color: #6aa84f;">Green Peas</div><div style="color: #38761d;">Parsley</div><div style="color: #274e13;">Endive</div></div><br />
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</div><b>An exhaustive list can be found here: </b><a href="http://www.nal.usda.gov/fnic/foodcomp/Data/SR20/nutrlist/sr20w430.pdf" target="_blank">http://www.nal.usda.gov/fnic/<wbr></wbr>foodcomp/Data/SR20/nutrlist/<wbr></wbr>sr20w430.pdf</a><br />
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Oh yeah, as far as I can tell, my physical health has never been better. Yanking the port went well. My scar is healing nicely, and I'm working on a necklace - if anyone has experience converting medical devices into jewelry, drop me a line. This blog is by Margarethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04074363859653866017noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1187813869279462671.post-57407313518746000042010-04-21T22:36:00.000-07:002010-04-21T22:36:23.713-07:00Farewell to PortHere are the boring medical details, as promised:<br />
I had my (bi-)monthly oncology check up last week and it went swimmingly. My AFP was a 5, and I've apparently been on blood thinner long enough that we can trust my clots to be gone. So I <i>could</i> go off my blood thinner and "dive head first into the salad bar," as Dr. Hallum put it, <i>EXCEPT</i> that I still have a foreign body lodged in my vein, in the form of a port-a-cath, the thing they put in my chest in September so they wouldn't have to start IVs all the time. And I'm stuck on blood thinner till I have that taken out. I hesitated for about .2 seconds before telling them to pull it.<br />
<br />
The risk, of course, is that Grazelda might come back. We're not yet at the big One Year UnCancerversary, when odds of recurrence plummet. And it's a surgical procedure, they knock you out at least partways and cut you open, and you have to sleep all day, while your sister is totally wired and bouncing off the walls after getting the LARGE coffee at the hospital cafeteria. (Well, that's what happened last time.)<br />
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Many people live happily with their ports in for many years. Those people either don't have clotting problems or don't like spinach as much as I do. So, I'm taking the risk, and this Friday (which is almost tomorrow) at 7:30 am Pacific Time at Northwest Hospital in Tucson, I'm getting my port out. <br />
I'll miss it, I think. I play with it and tap on it and slide it around under my skin. I push on it occasionally and think, "Beam me up, Scotty!" On the other hand, it looks a little odd especially with my sleeveless summer attire, and it rubs a little when I have a backpack on. And now that I'm not using it anymore, I'll gladly trade it in for copious quantities of basil and cilantro. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEho8vimbd7jjZR6BinQ8fjFHUdjN1eFlD2YbLDZ_6qH8jvnHdKnBwKy7OLox-FVn_k8Ro9PaqN0NBnh7b9U04-OnE2DQQM0m3CMSNFl1pL7ii4A88TfxKbHIsAOWdMA3ZZMB-_hD3wHSQfb/s1600/IMG_1952_2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="226" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEho8vimbd7jjZR6BinQ8fjFHUdjN1eFlD2YbLDZ_6qH8jvnHdKnBwKy7OLox-FVn_k8Ro9PaqN0NBnh7b9U04-OnE2DQQM0m3CMSNFl1pL7ii4A88TfxKbHIsAOWdMA3ZZMB-_hD3wHSQfb/s320/IMG_1952_2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"> </span><span style="font-size: xx-small;">picture by Kristi</span></div>This blog is by Margarethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04074363859653866017noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1187813869279462671.post-47320754072663554752010-04-19T21:37:00.000-07:002010-04-19T21:37:29.134-07:00Dinner<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPrMDx0FcoPeGKWCSesWgzBb0izLjKQTHAx7bYEctUYm6HXdW3i2jLco7bPdXk0eBQs-abuCxaIrVCn9eWO_sRG8iDjbGQ02_B7s4Pq6u2uUhGugQcVEYg3lLA2k_zEJw4xZWpoFEhgquR/s1600/DSCN1702.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPrMDx0FcoPeGKWCSesWgzBb0izLjKQTHAx7bYEctUYm6HXdW3i2jLco7bPdXk0eBQs-abuCxaIrVCn9eWO_sRG8iDjbGQ02_B7s4Pq6u2uUhGugQcVEYg3lLA2k_zEJw4xZWpoFEhgquR/s400/DSCN1702.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<input id="gwProxy" type="hidden" /><!--Session data--><input id="jsProxy" onclick="jsCall();" type="hidden" /><div id="refHTML"></div>This blog is by Margarethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04074363859653866017noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1187813869279462671.post-75186553207098623662010-04-17T11:09:00.001-07:002010-04-17T11:10:22.559-07:00Still Life with PorterHere's what I bought at the grocery store today:<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQ3X9DvU7FJ3HNIVAyMpaYmBbELMqAuNfMJ55hfC2w3Q0gktL6s318Hg32H6971Dr65kJJyWpr2cUJRLH46pLNwKyv5bvX_NJWGhyvVnLJeJggAQJjRjrpYo2k_Aza1yTS2hOrPCH-fBJu/s400/DSCN1697.jpg" width="400" /></div><div style="text-align: center;">(I don't get to eat them till Monday, but still . . . life is good.) </div><br />
And I'll save boring medical details for another post. <br />
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<div id="refHTML"></div><input id="gwProxy" type="hidden" /><!--Session data--><input id="jsProxy" onclick="jsCall();" type="hidden" /><div id="refHTML"></div>This blog is by Margarethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04074363859653866017noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1187813869279462671.post-13256470579335067592010-03-21T20:01:00.000-07:002010-03-21T20:01:45.618-07:00It turns out . . .<div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: black; font-family: inherit; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">. . . undeniably,</span> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="238" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisBoBExSfDMvODfDsxKxv1kM5ofutwDSpDNeE3Kd8WiA1jtZ9zn-rsjA6YMdIJ9FpUuwyufyIACd2lUFj68XapIasuKgYQMdctAjaTnlEjo_2nzQdhOIZ1sRcFx2bWDtIoLix3X0dzcYen/s320/DSCN1679.JPG" width="320" /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">genuinely,</span></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBTxjR660w7I9FFF9M_GtBYOpIhAuKJOPKJqmsafhMWqNFBHVjqyKaRWy_nrKDR2aUWSA0FVB36SR0KsdxZkV1zfTW-kYrLlFIIzkqBSZC7Clo3i86cduWW5mTPX_S_PVlzPseLTg7BmWA/s1600-h/DSCN1677.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBTxjR660w7I9FFF9M_GtBYOpIhAuKJOPKJqmsafhMWqNFBHVjqyKaRWy_nrKDR2aUWSA0FVB36SR0KsdxZkV1zfTW-kYrLlFIIzkqBSZC7Clo3i86cduWW5mTPX_S_PVlzPseLTg7BmWA/s320/DSCN1677.JPG" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">when-it-gets-longer-it-might-be-able-to-go-<i>boing-boing</i></span></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRUFH3uDz8jz1yPVOk1CzMRcO_mrq_1ZGjPyFlxK0CRI0kJEnlF0SOVjUpysrq9XJHNp_VlV-qzMmCqQ0a5FMzQFDUpB8lgV3JROOatzt6MaXSQjVavu8o7loghnCyBV5YdSjPvUi5xMGb/s1600-h/DSCN1674.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRUFH3uDz8jz1yPVOk1CzMRcO_mrq_1ZGjPyFlxK0CRI0kJEnlF0SOVjUpysrq9XJHNp_VlV-qzMmCqQ0a5FMzQFDUpB8lgV3JROOatzt6MaXSQjVavu8o7loghnCyBV5YdSjPvUi5xMGb/s320/DSCN1674.JPG" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">curly. </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;">Yup - that's what my hair does if I get it wet and scrunch it a little bit and let it dry without putting a bike helmet or work bandanna on. So I don't get to see it that way all that often, but I love it. There's no way to tell if curly is from the chemo, the fact that this crop has never been cut, or my "no-poo" routine - I have started washing every few days with baking soda and a vinegar rinse on Saturday night</span>. It's also baby-soft, and I do obsess over touching it.<br />
<br />
My life, like my hair, is settling into its new normal. My left ovary has regained function and is picking up the slack that Grazelda left behind (unfortunately, having only one ovary does <i>not</i> mean you only get your period <i>every other </i>month). I'm juggling work and rocking my classes and biking wherever I can and cooking good food and dreaming of broccoli. I have very vivid dreams about broccoli. <br />
<br />
There was a day a couple weeks ago that I felt bad at breakfast. Lots of pressure in my lower abdomen depending on how I sat. Nothing I did seemed to relieve it. It wasn't horrible, but it was the kind of pain I had last July that was the very first sign of cancer. So after a little hemming and hawing, I called in to my oncologist. I felt better the next day, but went ahead and had the blood test to confirm it: With an AFP at 3.8, I still don't have cancer. I guess normal people with this sensation would just think they had gas and blame it on the mac and cheese the night before, so maybe I do feel a little more fragile. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbc40XLVnSszRHcQTQUNCAEqnqWhhHIkL__N9ZAPMJnW2rqm5KbeJPkF4dmQkHEYROtDBV2OD8tVULmwevSl0MVboDtHgpvZzVHclwtOWinvslGd_JFT4NqPv7cFbKUPttvEi1W63Pqku1/s1600-h/Picture+346.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbc40XLVnSszRHcQTQUNCAEqnqWhhHIkL__N9ZAPMJnW2rqm5KbeJPkF4dmQkHEYROtDBV2OD8tVULmwevSl0MVboDtHgpvZzVHclwtOWinvslGd_JFT4NqPv7cFbKUPttvEi1W63Pqku1/s400/Picture+346.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>On the other hand, my cousins Noah, Elissa, and Dustin came out at the end of February, and we backpacked down into the Grand Canyon and back out again in two days. It was beautiful and challenging, a sort of victory lap for getting Grazelda gone. How awe-some to have such a powerful, strong body that can do amazing things! And it doesn't even matter that when we stopped at Chipotle for supper on the way back, we were hobbling so badly we thought people might assume we were drunk and refuse us service. <br />
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Spring break is over. Curly hair is in. And the Grand Canyon is really, really deep.<br />
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Peace and Health and Love,<br />
margaret</div><input id="gwProxy" type="hidden" /><input id="jsProxy" onclick="jsCall();" type="hidden" /><br />
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<div id="refHTML"></div><input id="gwProxy" type="hidden" /><!--Session data--><input id="jsProxy" onclick="jsCall();" type="hidden" /><div id="refHTML"></div>This blog is by Margarethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04074363859653866017noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1187813869279462671.post-20915067008592684892010-02-11T20:20:00.000-07:002010-02-11T20:20:27.757-07:00WOOHOO it's 3.2!I have been noticing lately that on warm days, after my car sits in the sun for a while, and then I open the door and get inside, it smells like I'm going to chemotherapy. Maybe it's that Yankee Candle "macintosh" air freshener I put in in August, or maybe it's just the warm car smell that permeated the 20 minute drives to and from the oncology office in the summer and fall. In any case, I'm very much an olefactory person, and that smell takes me back. (As do a few others - particular hand sanitizers, soaps, and definitely the alcohol swab they use to clean my port before poking me).<br />
<br />
Yesterday was rainy and (relatively) cold, so my car didn't smell like it should, but I went to visit my oncologist anyway. Dr. Hank was pretty excited about my bloodwork, bursting into the room to give me a "high five," before even telling me. 3.2 is my latest count, which is well in the normal range of AFP produced by the liver of a normal, healthy, cancer-free person. It was especially good to see the nurses in the infusion room (although the less you get poked, the more it hurts, so my port is still a little sore from being flushed, which is almost refreshing to have such a miniscule, short-lived side effect), and they weren't so busy, giving us some time to catch up. I don't have to go again till April, at which point we may schedule a date to remove the funny plastic lump on my chest, and then, one more month, and then I can eat GREENS!!<br />
<br />
Otherwise I'm generally happy and healthy. I'm very busy with work and school and life. I'm doing well in all my classes, loving learning, and even the rote memorization is kind of fun. I bike my commute whenever possible (generally twice a week), and some cousins are coming out to hike the grand canyon later this month. My hair is almost to the point of just being "very short" instead of "coming back in," though I may have to achieve a pony tail before I'll abandon headscarves altogether. There are hours that pass when cancer doesn't cross my mind even once. And there are nostalgic moments when I open the drawer with all my cancer cards in it and pick out a few to re-read. <br />
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I do miss the blogging thing. I get a small fix posting for my online nutrition class discussions, but it really can't compare to the caring folks here at Getting Rid of Grazelda. I hope, friend, that you are also well and in good spirits. <br />
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Cheers,<br />
margaret<br />
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<div id="refHTML"></div>This blog is by Margarethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04074363859653866017noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1187813869279462671.post-78910831552029674962010-01-15T14:03:00.000-07:002010-01-15T14:03:22.734-07:00The BeginningToday is exactly six months from the day that I woke up with unusual discomfort in my lower abdomen, the first hint of this crazy time of cancer and chemo and healing. So I guess it's appropriate that this should be my last regular post, though I do have more compelling reasons for bowing out of the blogosphere. Besides successfully getting rid of Grazelda, my demonic muse, starting this coming week I'll be far too busy taking pre-requisite courses for nursing school. <br />
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"<i>Margaret</i>," you ask (and I know you will, because everyone does), "<i>Has this whole Cancer Experience influenced you choice to make this career move?</i>" <br />
<br />
Why yes, like pretty much everything else in my life, my future plans have been influenced by cancer. I'd been thinking about going into medicine in some capacity before I got sick, but I have definitely gotten a closer look at the field and its challenges and rewards and possibilities.<br />
<br />
<br />
Medical technology of the past fifty years saved my life and has given me back a life of the same (or greater) quality with a similar life expectancy than before Grazelda. Even Margaret the Luddite can get behind those results. <br />
<br />
I had some fantastic care from doctors and nurses who had a vast amount of knowledge that I needed them to have, the communication ability to share it with me, and the technical skills to coax my body back to health. Especially Shirley, my chemotherapy nurse (have I mentioned how cool she is?).<br />
<br />
I want to help people, I want to work with my hands, and I'm going to study my tail off to become the best nurse I can. I'll still be working at Community Home Repair full time, so it's going to be a very, very full year. But I don't have cancer anymore, so I have to do something with my time! <br />
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That is also to say, <i>Thank You</i>, dear reader, for coming along with me on this journey, being the statistics that boost my spirits, the comments that make me smile, and people who are informed about my life without me having to recount the gory details over and over again. I have never felt alone. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyzhd7T3GyiBKR6AQPbgxQ9kL0oUPVwPMdMHjNDMxGB1iznaVjtXPScQLvWbpJup_CxQRVtF8fAz_zNuQF_VTJR6y0qlbQxaVanjpJDylUFjwVkjL3INqPMlshRqIKAHyEacr5NOp-Z5N_/s1600-h/DSCN1665.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyzhd7T3GyiBKR6AQPbgxQ9kL0oUPVwPMdMHjNDMxGB1iznaVjtXPScQLvWbpJup_CxQRVtF8fAz_zNuQF_VTJR6y0qlbQxaVanjpJDylUFjwVkjL3INqPMlshRqIKAHyEacr5NOp-Z5N_/s320/DSCN1665.JPG" /></a><br />
</div>I'll post medical results as they come, but we're hoping for really mundane and no more than monthly. So for now, I bid you good health, good friends, and as much hair as your heart desires. <br />
<div id="refHTML"></div>This blog is by Margarethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04074363859653866017noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1187813869279462671.post-78680321505062399882010-01-13T20:54:00.000-07:002010-01-13T20:54:41.535-07:00Thoughts on DeathIn the course of having cancer, I've spent a little bit of time thinking about death. And I do mean a very little bit, but probably more than your average, Practically Immortal Twenty-Something In Outstanding Health that I used to be/am again. I haven't spent hours pondering death, and I've taken almost no time to think about the afterlife. It's never kept me up at night. In fact, I distinctly remember my first night in the hospital being much more bothered by the prospect of being stuck in bed with greasy hair for several days than thinking about eternity or the possibility of my life being truncated. Not a fact I'm proud of but it's the truth (and my hair was already <i>really</i> greasy).<br />
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I guess I had been thinking about death some this past spring and summer, usually on long rides down the bike path. I haven't actually run the statistics, but my guess is I have a much higher chance of being killed in a bike accident than by some weird abdominal tumor aka my right ovary. <br />
<br />
Death: It's a difficult subject to approach. What kinds of questions do you even ask? What happens when you die? Do you just stop existing? If I died tomorrow, would I have lived a full enough life? rich enough? good enough? Are there relationships that need mending or more attention before I bow out?<br />
And the all-important: What hymns do I want sung at my funeral? <br />
<br />
I don't have answers to any of these, and like I said, I haven't given them a whole lot of thought. No one else has been asking these questions either. Maybe this is as it should be. I wasn't on my deathbed and my prognosis was/is really, really good. On the other hand, cancer has a (rightfully deserved) reputation of being this super serious disease, so even though my kind of cancer is generally curable, there's this unspoken hint of a possibility hanging over the situation "Is Margaret going to die from this?" And still no one talks about it.<br />
<br />
In our culture, bringing up death is impolite. It probably would have fallen under insensitive for someone else to bring it up, and it felt like an imposition for me to do so, as if speaking the D-word aloud might give it more of a hold in my life or indicate depression that needed to be worried about. (Recall that our culture rewards relentless optimism over realism when it comes to cancer.) But when death becomes part of reality - and ultimately, it is part of everyone's life - talking is important. Even beyond issues of having a living will or advanced directives, sharing thoughts and emotions among trusted friends seems to be comforting and even vital. If we don't talk about this big Thing, the most irreversible event of a lifetime, we leave it to be dealt with alone inside one's head. Now there's a recipe for depression!<br />
<br />
And then, when someone becomes terminally ill or dies, we are expected to be cool with it. Yes, we can experience grief and sadness, but there seems to be an expectation to suddenly be okay talking about death, like it's the most natural, if still really weighty, thing in the world. Which it is, but that doesn't mean the conversations come easily without thought and practice. <br />
<br />
So I have an assignment for you this week. Talk to someone you love about death. Their death and yours. And this is especially if you're a Practically Immortal Twenty-Something In Outstanding Health. Now I'll step down off my culturally critiquing soap box and give you some medical updates. <br />
<br />
<b>Medical Update:</b><br />
<i>The short of it:</i> Good news. My AFP tumor marker count was 7, which is in normal range (yay!). My CT scan was clear (yay!). And Dr. Hallum couldn't feel any abdominal abnormalities (yay!). I'll likely be on blood thinner through May (ugggh). <b> </b><br />
<b><br />
</b><br />
<i>The long of it:</i> I went to see my oncologist today, for the first time in almost 2 months. It was the first time I went by myself, ever. Walking in with so very much energy in my body and the knowledge that I'd dive right back into my busy life tomorrow felt weird. But as a healthy person, seeing the doctors and nurses and staff who took such good care of me when I was ill was a joyful experience.<br />
<br />
<br />
Medically, the news is as good as can be reasonably expected. That is, it's unilaterally positive except I can't eat greens until long after the good greens season is done in Tucson. <br />
<br />
I had to go to the infusion room for a port flush (to keep my port-a-cath happy it has to be accessed and flushed with saline and blood thinner once every month or so), and of course I would have gone there anyway to visit my nurse Shirley. Walking into the chemo room was a wave of emotion for me, but soon enough I was sitting in a recliner, swapping stories about female parts gone awry, and demonstrating my favorite headscarf tying method to the first-timer next to me. While I didn't see them, I learned that my favorite chemo buddies are doing well. <br />
<br />
And I go back next month. And the month after that. And the month after that. Grazelda is one fast-growing cookie, so we're keeping close tabs on her ashes for the first while, but for now she does seem to be thoroughly gone. <br />
<br />
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<input id="gwProxy" type="hidden" /><!--Session data--><input id="jsProxy" onclick="jsCall();" type="hidden" /><div id="refHTML"></div>This blog is by Margarethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04074363859653866017noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1187813869279462671.post-82976194655109664092010-01-11T22:25:00.000-07:002010-01-11T22:25:15.252-07:00Grazelda's Favorite Hits Part III: RegretsI've been trying to make a list of Top 10 Regrets from cancer. Beyond very particular instances with very particular people (for instance, I would have liked to have gone hiking with my mother), there's not all that much that I regret. So, instead it's a Top 3 list. <br />
<br />
<br />
3. I wish I would have kept on top of correspondence better. Hmm. I suppose this is true for my non-cancerous life as well - it's a constant (joyful) struggle. In any case, I am still blessed with many people to write to, and I will continue to work on that project.<br />
<br />
2. I wish I would have given myself permission to cry a little more. Despite my Bartel disposition to weeping, I worked hard to keep the tears in check when there were other people around (obviously, there were some exceptions when I was totally and utterly overwhelmed at the beginning). When I look back, I think some more crying would have been in order. Like in the doctor's office when I was first told I needed chemo. Logically, the oncologist's is a perfectly normal place to experience and express some emotion. Yes, I could have cried more. <br />
<br />
1. I wish I would have gotten a blue wig. Heck, my insurance covers one "cranial prosthesis" per year. While I knew I didn't want to pretend I had hair while really I was bald, a bright blue wig would not be pretending - it would be awesome. I'd be looked at as "Wow, that woman has blue hair!" instead of "Oh, that poor girl has cancer." Not getting a blue (or maybe pink or purple or green) wig is definitely my number one regret. <br />
<br />
P.S. With clever use of a headscarf, I fooled several more people in church on Sunday into thinking I had orange, sparkly hair. Yes, it was from afar, and yes, it was only for a few seconds, but these are people who have known me <i>with hair</i>. (Un)fortunately it's growing back in its typically mundane and beautiful shade of brown: No evidence of orange and sparkly, or even curly for that matter!<br />
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<input id="gwProxy" type="hidden" /><!--Session data--><input id="jsProxy" onclick="jsCall();" type="hidden" /><div id="refHTML"></div>This blog is by Margarethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04074363859653866017noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1187813869279462671.post-88405666538343009082010-01-10T22:01:00.000-07:002010-01-10T22:01:10.214-07:00Grazelda's Favorite Hits - Part II: SoundtrackYou should listen to this while reading this post: <br />
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I received a number of CDs during my convalescence, both mix CDs and full albums. I have enjoyed each one in their own way, but here are the top 10 songs that have become the soundtrack to my stint with cancer and chemotherapy. <br />
<br />
1. <i>The Re-Arranger</i> by Mates of State<br />
"I know it's impossible. / But you should try to shake it off."<br />
<br />
2. <i>Come Thou Fount of Every Blessing</i> by Brothers Frantzich<br />
"Seal it for thy quarts above . . ."<br />
<br />
3. <i>When It Don't Come Easy</i> by Patty Griffin<br />
"But if you break down / I'll drive out and find you" <br />
<br />
4. <i>Missed the Boat</i> by Modest Mouse<br />
"And we carried it all so well" <br />
<br />
5. <i>Hard Times</i> by eastmountainsouth<br />
"'. . . tis a song, a sigh of the weary . . ."<br />
<br />
6. <i>So Strong</i> by Freedom School Soundtrack<br />
"Something inside so strong . . ."<br />
<br />
7. <i>Summerstone</i> by House of Doc<br />
"And we got this song"<br />
<br />
8. <i>How You Survived the War</i> by The Weepies<br />
"I think you can choose to love and what is more / That is how you survived the war" <br />
<br />
9. <i>Innocent</i> by Our Lady Peace<br />
"While she wishes she was a dancer / and that she'd never heard of cancer" <br />
<br />
10. <i>Rain Before the Fall</i> by House of Doc<br />
"the patches that remain are the memories I made / and all the good we've done"<br />
<br />
Special mention goes to my friend Hannah. Half of these songs are off the mix she made, including my hands-down favorite cancer song of the season, <i>Innocent</i> by Our Lady Peace, which is what you've been listening to if you followed directions. That CD still makes me cry often enough that I have deemed it dangerous to listen to while driving and have removed it from my car. <br />
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<div id="refHTML"></div>This blog is by Margarethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04074363859653866017noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1187813869279462671.post-76561582076927015952010-01-08T21:09:00.002-07:002010-01-08T21:10:57.652-07:00Three Thoughts About Hair (Not Baldness)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpBUy1T_8qBHTavUubXxKO6CSvii7tKWKKUYw8XcFQQPcJQAghgC-Vy0LhFdqqBzwWWR7YQsz3kQzBWXII-JRu3g0vQvK9YaQrkUnutVw0Xy1gduJowpTkjto-8Em5rybA5OiwDnnPcSM9/s1600-h/DSCN1643.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpBUy1T_8qBHTavUubXxKO6CSvii7tKWKKUYw8XcFQQPcJQAghgC-Vy0LhFdqqBzwWWR7YQsz3kQzBWXII-JRu3g0vQvK9YaQrkUnutVw0Xy1gduJowpTkjto-8Em5rybA5OiwDnnPcSM9/s320/DSCN1643.JPG" /></a><b>The Hedgehog Theorem<br />
</b><br />
There's an old proverb called the Hedgehog Theorem stating that every head of hair must have at least one whorl. So while I theoretically knew that the very short little vectors on my head would be mathematically non-differentiable at some point, the evidence on my head of burgeoning hair is currently much more obvious.<br />
<b> </b><br />
<b>The Importance of Sideburns</b><br />
I still wear a headscarf most of the time to retain heat, but I feel like my slowly-returning sideburns throw people off the chemo scent. Or maybe I have stopped radiating the "I just had cancer and am still a little fragile" vibe. In any case, it's been a while since a stranger, usually a client at work, has asked.<br />
<br />
<b>Going Pooless</b> <br />
Not only is this crop of keratin special for reasons of feminine vanity and survival symbolism, it's also an experiment. I have become aware of a movement within the blogosphere (and so-called real world) towards going "poo-free." The idea is that, given the chance and proper care, my scalp can produce the proper amount of oil to keep my hair beautiful without the aid/impedence of shampoo. The problem is the transition period when hair/scalp that is accustomed to shampoo suddenly finds itself without that daily/bi-weekly detergent and has not yet adjusted. But if you start with <i>no</i> hair, there's no hair to be greasy and gross for weeks on end. Well, that's my theory. Strangely, I haven't read about anyone who started the method by shaving it all off. At any rate, sometime in late October when I was still essentially bald, I quit using shampoo on my scalp, which I had been doing for the fruity fragrence and fun of it. We'll see what happens.<br />
[More info on the method <a href="http://ylcf.org/gotcurl/">here</a>, although what lack of shampoo has to do with being a faithful young Christian woman I have yet to discern!] <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<b>Medical Update: </b><br />
I biked to and from work on Monday and Thursday - spectacular sunrises and raging endorphins make it a pleasure. I haven't had a noticeable hot flash in over a week - it gets a little cold without them! And I don't have a nasty taste in my mouth - that's been gone a month, but it's still really nice. Friends have told me I'm back to myself again, but I think it's mostly the return of the eyebrows. <br />
I have a blood test this coming Monday and see my oncologist on Wednesday about the results from that and from the CT scan. While it may seem odd, I'm really looking forward to seeing them again. <br />
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<div id="refHTML"></div><input id="gwProxy" type="hidden" /><!--Session data--><input id="jsProxy" onclick="jsCall();" type="hidden" /><div id="refHTML"></div>This blog is by Margarethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04074363859653866017noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1187813869279462671.post-90138669285264612912010-01-01T15:17:00.001-07:002010-01-01T15:24:38.736-07:00Happy New Year!I'm looking forward to 2010, but like everyone else today I am also looking back at 2009. <br />
<br />
A number of people have expressed their wish that my new year will be "better" than the one past. Yes, I would prefer not to have to take any more chemotherapy next year (or ever). Yes, I don't want to need any more major surgery, abdominal CT scans, or 3am hospital runs. Yes, I would like some better luck. Those are not things I would ever choose. <br />
<br />
But 2009 was amazing; the year was intense, surprising, emotional, and revelatory. And now at the end of it, I find I love my life even more than before. I love my self, my body, my family, my friends, and the community here in Tucson and across the world more wholly than I did this time last year. For me, 2009 was full of the goodness of people. Memories of the physical agony fade quickly, but those of kindness - simple, creative, big, and small remain vivid. Perhaps I should get a job at Hallmark because these sanguine cliches are how I've been feeling lately. <br />
<br />
So, Happy New Year to you and to yours. May it be full of good health, interesting people, and compassion in word and deed. <br />
<br />
<br />
<strong>Medical Update: </strong>I feel great. I had a scheduled CT scan on Monday (routine post-chemo baseline) and will get the results later this month. The barium I had to drink before the scan tasted like water. It was delicious. Why did I have to drink the nasty baby lotion the first time?! <br />
Also. While my hair is not yeat thick and luscious, I no longer qualify as bald. A picture is forthcoming.<br />
And I biked to work yesterday. [insert your favorite Victorious Noise Of Strength here] This blog is by Margarethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04074363859653866017noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1187813869279462671.post-538237986595203982009-12-24T19:16:00.000-07:002009-12-24T19:16:52.115-07:00Cancer and . . . ChristmasIt is Christmas. I don't have cancer anymore; I just deal with being mostly bald (I <i>really</i> don't care if people look at me cooky on the train), and occasional hot flashes (Kansas blizzards are <i>awesome</i> for relieving hot flashes in a hurry). And yes, I am particularly grateful for friends and family and being here to enjoy them again this year.<br />
<br />
This Christmas I am much more aware of people who do have cancer, and other difficult medical conditions, or are just struggling with situations out of their control. I can't help but with a pang of empathy think of my friends from the chemo room who aren't done yet, and have to deal with so much more than hot flashes today. In the big picture time keeps going, and we mark the days and years, through whatever life may throw at us. We have no other choice, and sometimes we need a big holiday like Christmas to place our particular challenges into perspective, make us step back and compare this year to "normal" life. That awareness can be joyful, or really, really painful, or even somewhere in between. <br />
<br />
I'm guessing most of this post is not new to you; it's the stuff you learn from growing older. The fact that it's more of a new thought to me is a testament both to my youth and general good fortune. I find the holidays a new kind of weighty in 2009, and this Christmas I am content and very, very blessed. This blog is by Margarethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04074363859653866017noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1187813869279462671.post-34671524175888726622009-12-17T08:17:00.000-07:002009-12-17T08:17:28.352-07:00Margaret: 2.6, Grazleda: 0<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8LjIWv5wPNN4ELQXGrePDZNXn7fg5zA3hqhr3PNCEyXFuelXrFhzlDMQ9QeIfYjOSZzPjeYAMqiycybTVGQl_HiqS7sFrEGA1wHefqudnexFxiGw6Y3YpGokbnlZIJoDM20UlwDBS6kCJ/s1600-h/080236.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8LjIWv5wPNN4ELQXGrePDZNXn7fg5zA3hqhr3PNCEyXFuelXrFhzlDMQ9QeIfYjOSZzPjeYAMqiycybTVGQl_HiqS7sFrEGA1wHefqudnexFxiGw6Y3YpGokbnlZIJoDM20UlwDBS6kCJ/s320/080236.jpg" /></a><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">This is me, this morning. <br />
</div><br />
I am smiling very big for 3 reasons:<br />
<br />
1) My AFP is down to 4.4. That is to say, it continued to drop by 2.6 over the past month, <i>without chemo</i>. Yay!!!<br />
<br />
2) Yesterday I went to the dentist to get my teeth superficially cleaned. Superficially because they didn't have time to get me in for a full cleaning, but squeezed me in, stayed late to get off the brown stain I'd developed during my no-flossing-allowed, lots of sugary drinks, and major changes to my body chemistry (i.e. chemo) time. Yup, I think my bald head and cancer story (it's not my fault my teeth are this way!) made that one possible too. So I am proudly displaying my pearly newly-whites. Oh yeah, and that Crest Pro-Health mouthwash I was so fond of because it wasn't baking soda and salt water . . . apparently it increases tendency to stain. Go figure. And go Biotene. <br />
<br />
3) Today I leave to go on vacation. Kansas here I come!!This blog is by Margarethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04074363859653866017noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1187813869279462671.post-91076916020937081092009-12-13T22:07:00.002-07:002009-12-13T22:26:59.507-07:00Hanging Up My (Cancer) Hat, LiterallyToday's project: <br />
Turning this . . .<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUoGMtfUWwPwDvrLj3dVoNs4FxSX7UacmQ38ZqprTVBqhHHH2gqBWAwkGCeQcxiZRGkfrq7AT5QKATXH-BIlfk20osGATwFccQiimQGl8Nd0vqia6mpJqh2tBxStlqlIREY08MLuVFZkii/s1600-h/DSCN1595-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUoGMtfUWwPwDvrLj3dVoNs4FxSX7UacmQ38ZqprTVBqhHHH2gqBWAwkGCeQcxiZRGkfrq7AT5QKATXH-BIlfk20osGATwFccQiimQGl8Nd0vqia6mpJqh2tBxStlqlIREY08MLuVFZkii/s320/DSCN1595-2.jpg" /></a><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Overflowing Drawer of Headscarves<br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
<br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">into this . . .<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">Beautiful Colorful Wallhanging<br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">Not only does it solve the Way Too Many White Walls in my new house problem, it solves the What To Do With All My Beautiful Headscarves Once My Hair Grows Back problem (What a great problem to have!!). My head still definitely qualifies as "bald," though it's starting to fill in slowly, so it's fortunate that this dynamic scarf storage system offers easy access to all headgear. I would tell you all the ckraphty details, but this blog is about cancer, not home decorating, so you'll have to find out through some other channel.<br />
<br />
Thanks to my friend Jodi who is visiting and was the inspiration behind this project!<br />
<br />
<br />
<b>Medical Update:</b><br />
I feel great. My eyebrows are filling back out to their normal, bushy selves . . . <br />
Oh . . . I do have a little bit of real news. My PT/INR (blood thinness) levels have been stable enough that I now only need to get checked once a month. Meaning: I only have to get poked <i>once a month</i> until further notice. Well, I do have another blood test tomorrow, an AFP count (the big one), but after that I'm on the once a month schedule. I'll post the results when I receive them, probably on Tuesday, but I'm anticipating a nice, medically boring week and heading off to Kansas on Friday.<br />
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<div id="refHTML"></div><input id="gwProxy" type="hidden" /><!--Session data--><input id="jsProxy" onclick="jsCall();" type="hidden" /><div id="refHTML"></div>This blog is by Margarethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04074363859653866017noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1187813869279462671.post-91108757668145742242009-12-06T21:03:00.001-07:002009-12-06T22:03:03.681-07:00Grazelda's Favorite Hits - Part IFor this week's Cancer-tainment, I present to you the first in a series of Top Ten Lists. <br />
<b>Top Ten Books I Read During Cancer</b> (This is a non-ordered list.)<b><br />
</b><br />
<a href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/4929.Kafka_on_the_Shore"><img alt="Kafka on the Shore (Paperback) by Haruki Murakami" src="http://photo.goodreads.com/books/1165515991s/4929.jpg" title="Kafka on the Shore (Paperback) by Haruki Murakami" /></a> <u>Kafka on the Shore</u> by Haruki Murakami<br />
<i>Well, I'm not quite done with this one yet, but once I got past the suggestively boring/heavy presence of "Kafka" in the title, it turned out to be really engaging. One of those books where I have no idea what's going to happen next!</i><br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/5006555.Sleeping_Naked_is_Green_How_an_Eco_Cynic_Unplugged_Her_Fridge_Sold_Her_Car_and_Found_Love_in_366_Days"><img alt="Sleeping Naked is Green: How an Eco-Cynic Unplugged Her Fridge, ... by Vanessa Farquharson" src="http://photo.goodreads.com/books/1255999029s/5006555.jpg" title="Sleeping Naked is Green: How an Eco-Cynic Unplugged Her Fridge, ... by Vanessa Farquharson" /></a> <u>Sleeping Naked is Green</u> by Vanessa Farquharson<br />
<i>This book is not </i><i>very engaging, the author's attempts at "going green" seem mostly laughable to me, and I haven't even read 1/3 of it, but it made a nice, light, fluffy read-aloud while I was in the ER with Grazelda.</i><br />
<i><br />
</i><a href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/1232.The_Shadow_of_the_Wind"><img alt="The Shadow of the Wind (Paperback) by Carlos Ruiz Zafón" src="http://photo.goodreads.com/books/1247930410s/1232.jpg" title="The Shadow of the Wind (Paperback) by Carlos Ruiz Zafón" /></a> <u>The Shadow of the Wind</u><i> </i>by Carols Ruiz Zafon<br />
<i>This book is so scary, there were times I couldn't read it before bed. Seriously. Good plot and well-written. </i><br />
<br />
<i><a href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/4700433.Everything_Changes_The_Inside_Scoop_on_Living_with_Cancer_in_Your_20s_and_30s"><img alt="Everything Changes: The Inside Scoop on Living with Cancer in Yo... by Kairol Rosenthal" src="http://photo.goodreads.com/books/1255652190s/4700433.jpg" title="Everything Changes: The Inside Scoop on Living with Cancer in Yo... by Kairol Rosenthal" /></a> </i><u>Everything Changes: the Inside Scoop on Living With Cancer in Your 20s and 30s</u> by Cairol Rosenthal<br />
<i>Interesting. Better than your average Inspirational Cancer Book</i>. <i>Tells lots of stories of young folks who have much more dramatic experiences than me. Trust me, this is the kind of drama I can happily live without, but some of the essence of experiences are the same. </i><br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/266356.Taffy_of_Torpedo_Junction"><img alt="Taffy of Torpedo Junction (Chapel Hill) by Nell Wise Wechter" src="http://photo.goodreads.com/books/1173276793s/266356.jpg" title="Taffy of Torpedo Junction (Chapel Hill) by Nell Wise Wechter" /></a> <u>Taffy of Torpedo Junction</u> by Nell Wise Wechter<br />
<i>Though written for a younger crowd, this was an entertaining read, and very good for those nights on steroids when I was awake till 2am. I did love the Outer Banks accents. <br />
</i><br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/41865.Twilight"><img alt="Twilight (Twilight, #1) by Stephenie Meyer" src="http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/41DcKN0STkL._SL75_.jpg" title="Twilight (Twilight, #1) by Stephenie Meyer" /></a> <u>Twilight</u> (and the rest of the series) by Stephenie Meyer<br />
<i>Just the right weight for a gal on chemo. I have to admit to staying up later than I needed to keep reading them. I also have to admit that there's this guy at my church who looks exactly like I envision Carlisle. (Hey, Mark!)</i><br />
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<a href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/186417.Widdershins_Newford_Book_16_"><img alt="Widdershins (Newford Book 16) by Charles de Lint" src="http://photo.goodreads.com/books/1172532820s/186417.jpg" title="Widdershins (Newford Book 16) by Charles de Lint" /></a> <u>Widdershins</u> by Charles deLint<br />
<i>Good characters, good plot intricate fantasy world, mixed with real world stuff. Also sometimes a little too scary for 2am. </i><br />
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<a href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/2213661.The_Graveyard_Book"><img alt="The Graveyard Book (Hardcover) by Neil Gaiman" src="http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/51mo4YSDB-L._SL75_.jpg" title="The Graveyard Book (Hardcover) by Neil Gaiman" /></a> <u>The Graveyard Book</u> by Neil Gaiman<br />
<i>This one I made my Dad read aloud to me when I was in random severe pain (Thanks, Dad!). I also read it early in the morning during hospital stay #2, and then decided it was a little too scary for 6am. Very good, very entertaining. Highly recommended.</i><br />
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<a href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/3525894.The_Unlikely_Disciple_A_Sinner_s_Semester_at_America_s_Holiest_University"><img alt="The Unlikely Disciple: A Sinner's Semester at America's Holiest ... by Kevin Roose" src="http://photo.goodreads.com/books/1237095107s/3525894.jpg" title="The Unlikely Disciple: A Sinner's Semester at America's Holiest ... by Kevin Roose" /></a> <u>The Unlikely Disciple: A Sinner's Semester at America's Holiest University</u> by Kevin Roose<br />
<i>Also highly recommended. Entertaining subject with an honest and nuanced perspective, well written, and for a book about Liberty U, America's Holiest University, it even contains the kind of passage that made me </i>stop the read-aloud<i> when the pastor walked into my hospital room. </i><br />
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<a href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/1918305.The_Geography_of_Bliss_One_Grump_s_Search_for_the_Happiest_Places_in_the_World"><img alt="The Geography of Bliss: One Grump's Search for the Happiest Plac... by Eric Weiner" src="http://photo.goodreads.com/books/1190313641s/1918305.jpg" title="The Geography of Bliss: One Grump's Search for the Happiest Plac... by Eric Weiner" /></a> <u>The Geography of Bliss: One Grump's Search for the Happiest Places in the World</u> by Eric Weiner<br />
<i>Now don't take this the wrong way, because this is a fine book on the paragraph/chapter level: <u>The Geography of Bliss</u> made an excellent keep-in-the-bathroom book. Due to the nature of the author's survey, the chapters read fairly well by themselves and don't require much continuity. And with some of those nasty chemo side effects, it is important to have good Toilet Literature. </i><br />
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<i><a href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/4666058.The_Guernsey_Literary_and_Potato_Peel_Pie_Society" title="The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society"><img alt="The Guernsey Literary and Pota..." src="http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/413jHbCJaLL._SL75_.jpg" /></a> </i><u>The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society</u> by Mary Ann Shaffer and Annie Barrows<br />
<i>I read this book on my Intermission Week because the church book group was discussing it. We mostly agreed that it was mediocre. I maintain that it was worth my time reading it so I got to go to book group. </i><br />
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[were you counting? If so, just consider yourself lucky you got a bonus!]<br />
<br />
Part II will definitely be Grazelda's Soundtrack (top 10 songs during cancer), but after that I am open to more Top Ten _______ During Cancer List suggestions. <br />
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<b>Medical update:</b> I got a cold this week. Ugh. And I'm still getting over it, but I am getting over it. Cough drops and orange juice. Not being able to breathe combined with the cold(er) weather inhibits my "Getting Buff Again Without Being Stupid About It" project. That is to say, I probably only biked 20 miles in the past three days, and went dancing twice (contra and samba), so you probably shouldn't feel too sorry for me. <br />
<input id="gwProxy" type="hidden" /><!--Session data--><input id="jsProxy" onclick="jsCall();" type="hidden" /><div id="refHTML"></div>This blog is by Margarethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04074363859653866017noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1187813869279462671.post-2377955352032341242009-11-29T15:26:00.000-07:002009-11-29T15:26:23.355-07:00ThanksgivingThanksgiving was beautiful this year. The Ozarks were at their November best, the weather was gorgeous, and this Tucsonan was, again, fascinated by the proliferation of <i>trees</i>!! The food, the robot-mugs, the cloth napkins, the behaviorally-challenged canines, the extremely-full car ride, the caboose in the woods by the pond, the grass - each of these could be the subject of its own blog post. But none of them have anything to do with cancer. That was possibly the best part - feeling so normal, being so normal, doing things that I would have done this year, and in this way, even if I hadn't woken up in pain four months ago and gone through everything that followed. <br />
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Being together with family was extra-special, particularly Grandma, who's had health concerns of her own to combat. Also, Grandma has chronically cold hands that felt amazing on my head when I would get a bout of my own personal summer (hot flash). Needless to say, I was sure to sit by her often. <br />
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My list of things I'm thankful for this year is very long. I'm glad I don't have cancer anymore. I'm happy I don't start another round of chemo tomorrow. But those things (or perhaps more clearly, their opposite - having cancer, needing chemo) seem more like fate, something no one has control over. So I'm most grateful for the people who have surrounded me and stood by me in so many ways the past few months. Because those people (i.e. you, and others) have made a choice to support me, have gone out of their way to make my life more pleasant by taking care of my physical, emotional, medical, and yes, even social needs in the middle of the yuck. Thank you. This blog is by Margarethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04074363859653866017noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1187813869279462671.post-58668782163077980392009-11-21T14:32:00.000-07:002009-11-21T14:32:45.473-07:00Quitting Chemo - and CancerI got a call yesterday from my doctor's office scheduling my next appointment: January 20! I might not go into the office for two months! In the meantime, I'll get my blood tested and a CT scan. I'll have some phone conversations, and can call or go in if I have questions or concerns. And I get to talk to Shirley every week about the thickness of my blood. I don't usually believe in more than one exclamation point per paragraph. But I'm done with chemotherapy!! And that is cause to celebrate with excessive punctuation!!!<br />
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Yes, I won't have the five days of yuck, and my hair will start growing back. I can go back to work, and stop using antibacterial soap unless I just replaced a toilet or something really nasty. But quitting chemo is not simply a happy occasion. I worry about having made the right decision, about every little twinge, burp, or upset stomach - is that Grazelda? Or is it Grazelda's mutant, back for the fight stronger than before? It sounds like some terrible made-for-TV alien movie sequel. <br />
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In the meantime, I have places to bike, people to see, books to read, music to dance to, and furnaces to start up. "Sitting out" for a few months can give a person quite the ToDo list, and I have barely started on mine. That is to say, I may be too busy to worry much. <br />
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I won't say good-bye yet. I want at least one more blood test before I'll be convinced that Grazelda has been entirely annihilated, and I will definitely be sad to lose you all as such a wonderful audience for my rambling thoughts. But for now I'll hope for medical boring-ness and try to post weekly. Emails are always welcome [pennermk AT gmail DOT com] if you find yourself needing a higher dose - I'll do my best to reply quickly. <br />
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Oh yeah, and for old times' sake . . .<br />
Chemotherapy Side Effect #92: Ridged fingernails. <br />
I feel a little bit like a tree, but instead of rings counting years, I have ridges on my nails counting chemotherapy cycles. They'll grow out with my fingernails, but meanwhile I have a reminder, in case I forget. This blog is by Margarethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04074363859653866017noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1187813869279462671.post-8404628407547337732009-11-18T22:36:00.001-07:002009-11-18T22:37:55.666-07:00Decisions decisions . . .It was a good news kind of doctor's visit this afternoon. We all breathed a sigh of relief that my AFP was 7. The reading of 22 was either a lab error or some stubborn cancer cells finally throwing in the towel, popping and releasing a bunch of that protein all at once. My PET scan was basically clear except what is probably a little bit of over-active fat some distance away from where Grazelda lived, which will be confirmed by a CT scan at some point in the future. And I got other little bits of good news, too: I am now officially allowed to floss, have blood drawn from my left arm, and play ultimate frisbee. <br />
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Now what? Well, now I get to choose whether I want one more cycle of chemo (=one 5-day week + 2 Bonus Bleo days) or that I'm done and watch my AFP count closely. I've been thinking/talking/writing about it all afternoon and evening, and don't feel much closer to a decision. Ugh.<br />
<br />
So I'm experiencing a mixture of happy that bubbles up and says "Hey - I used to have cancer. And now I don't. Life is great!" and a slight headache from too much thinking in circles about chemo choices. <br />
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But. I get to go to Missouri and see my family for Thanksgiving next week, and I'm working tomorrow and there will certainly be some sort of partying this weekend.This blog is by Margarethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04074363859653866017noreply@blogger.com4