Full of Grace - 10 year cancerversary

10 years ago, I had a bilateral mastectomy to remove 3 estrogen triggered tumors found during a routine mammogram.  The breasts were removed along with a few lymph nodes from both armpits.  Fortunately, the cancer was caught early and had not yet begun to spread.  My Onco score, which guesstimates the chances of recurrence, was borderline high between statistically not needing chemo and having a small benefit from chemo.  I opted to decline the chemo and went on a hormonal treatment.  And crossed my fingers.

Today is the 10-year anniversary of that surgery.  It is the date I considered myself to be cancer free and having no recurrence* in these past 10 years is considered a major medical milestone.

I have thought a lot about how to celebrate this day.  Or not.

Today I get to end 10 years of hormonal therapy that effectively eliminated estrogen from my body.   I am very grateful to stop having to pay for and swallow these drugs.  On the other hand, they have done quite a number on my bones and my last Dexa scan showed that I have now crossed from osteopenia to osteoporosis.  

Today is also my daughter’s 30th birthday (yes, I had major surgery on her 20th birthday which really sucked) and I doubt anyone in my family will even remember the significance of this day for me. **  We will bring our daughter a takeout meal - Covid eliminating her favorite Italian dine-in experience - and ooh and ahh over her 2-week-old baby boy.  And I will quietly get a little weepy over the passage of time and the renewal of life.  

Still, while I will be so very grateful to have lived, I can’t help but think of my brother-in-law who lost his battle with pancreatic cancer this summer and of his daughter who will be married at the end of the year without her father to walk her down the aisle.  And of the way too many other friends who were diagnosed with cancer but were not as fortunate as me.

So, like most other things, today is rather bittersweet.  I will not celebrate with balloons or confetti or even chocolate.  But I will celebrate with gratitude.  I have been able to see both my daughters married and now with children of their own, I was financially able to retire, I traveled to some awe inspiring places, and I met some amazing women who are still on their healing journeys. I am truly blessed

And I will celebrate with humility, knowing that I had little control over getting cancer and have very little control over whether it returns. All I can really do is enjoy this one wild and precious life while it lasts. And I intend to do just that.

* I did have a melanoma cancer surgery last year but don't consider that a recurrence since I am so fair and spent every summer of my youth sunning myself, unprotected, at a beach 8 hours a day.  

** Just after I wrote this, this arrived on my doorstep from a friend because nothing says happy cancerverary better than Zabar’s chocolate babka and rugelach!

Omens

This is a dogwood tree we planted to commemorate our youngest daughter’s birth.  It flowers every year around her birthday.  And then it produces these red berry-like things that the birds, squirrels and chipmunks enjoy.

I have found that the number of berries is a good predictor of our winter weather.  I think it is nature's way of providing little critters with some food stores.  

I have never, in 28 years, seen so many berries on this tree.  Fortunately my nordic blood does not mind cold winter temps and I love the coziness of a snow fall.  But I’d better go change the oil in the snowblower.  Looks like this year might be a doozy. 

Oh Baby!

My first grandson was due September 3rd.  My daughter was hopeful that he would come early as he had already grown to a healthy weight.  But all week she hadn’t dilated at all and they scheduled her to begin an induction on the 3rd.  Martha and I flew down to hot and humid Florida on the 2nd to be able to dog sit while she was in the hospital.  

Due to Covid, only her husband was allowed at the hospital, so early on the 3rd we kissed our daughter goodbye and made her husband swear that he would text at least once an hour to keep us posted.  And every hour he did, but only to report that she’d been contracting since 6am but progress was very slow.  Then at 6:30 pm he reported that she was at 7cm, and then nothing.  Hour after hour we waited.  And waited.  

By 8:30 we were growing concerned but assumed that they were in the throes of childbirth and couldn’t text.  By 11:00 pm we were pacing grooves into the floors while exchanging multiple texts with the mother-in-law “heard anything yet?”   Finally at 12:30 am came the text that the baby was not moving down the birth canal and they were going for a C-section.  At 1:52 am my first grandson was born, everyone doing well.

Because of the C-section we had to wait even longer to meet our grandbaby and we spent our time preparing and freezing meals for them, cleaning, mowing, weeding and dog walking.  Finally they came home.  

It has been quite a while since I’ve held a baby for any length of time or had one sleep on my chest.  So awesome.  And to watch my baby nursing her own baby was nothing short of . . . well, I don’t even have the word for that.  

We spent several more days baby rocking and diaper changing so the tired parents could sneak in some naps and begin to adjust to their new, constantly interrupted sleep routine.  Then flew back home to start preparing our yard and gardens for fall.  Mama and baby will come back north in October for her sister’s baby shower and I can cuddle with the baby for a full week.

After leaving the heat of Florida and coming back to suddenly cooler temps and trees starting to change color I am reminded of the cliché ‘the circle of life’.   The sadness of losing my brother-in-law this summer, followed by the birth of this beautiful baby boy whose middle name will carry my BIL’s name into the future.  And another grandson due this December.  This is grace.

Today is the anniversary of the most traumatic event of my life and the eventual loss of my soulmate.  I am both full of joy and full of sadness.  I will go to my garden, pick the remaining tomatoes and beans while pulling out the spent zucchini and peppers.  And prepare for next year’s garden.

Life is good. Life goes on.  

*Kristin Noelle

Family Secrets

On July 9th, my brother-in-law passed into his next chapter after a long and painful struggle with pancreatic cancer.  He and my sister started dating in high school and I had known him for better than 50 years. He was more of a brother to me than my own brother and his absence will leave a very large hole in my heart.

I drove down a day before the funeral to help with preparations.  Beaner also drove down and Peachie flew in, 8 months pregnant, from Florida.  As she said “when your family is only 5 people, you come.”  

My BIL was Jewish and the funeral service was a beautiful combination of Hebrew and English prayers and traditions.  His best friend gave the eulogy, a combination of BIL’s love of his family and stories of his great sense of humor - One of my favorites -BIL was at a company buffet and noticing the offerings said  “Free ham.  The Jewish dilemma.”  The folks gathered all laughed.  The rabbi? Not so much.  

One story was about a boy who had gotten caught through a balcony grate and was dangling.  My BIL saved his life.  How had I never heard that story before?  

At the gravesite my BIL was buried next to his brother, who was a friend and classmate of mine.  He died in High School from what the family called a rare blood disease. Turns out that he died of a drug overdose.  I found this out only a few years ago.  WTF?

When I mentioned this to my sister she told me that with the death of his young brother, my BIL’s mother had a total psychic break and was in an institution for quite a while.  In fact, she had to get a day pass to be able to come to my sister and BIL’s wedding.  Again, I was left wondering about where I was through all of this.  Away at college probably.  But I mean, it’s not like I didn’t know the woman.  We lived only a few blocks apart and after my sister’s marriage, our two families got together often.  How did I not know this?

Later that night I slept in bed with my sister.  “One good thing that has come out of this”, she said, was that her son promised his father before he died that he would quit smoking.  I made a comment that our parents never smoked and she laughed, “Dad smoked.  Don’t you remember - after he killed that guy he started smoking.”  I was beginning to think I had entered The Twilight Zone.  “Dad killed a guy?” She then told me the story that some guy had stepped out between two cars, directly into our father’s driving lane.  Although not our father’s fault, our dad was deeply affected by it and took up smoking.  And yet again, I knew nothing of this.

Lastly, she said “but you know about dad’s dad, right?”  Actually all I knew about my paternal grandfather was that he had died long before I was born.  Funny that I had never thought to ask how he died, even though those questions show up on many of the health questionnaires I am constantly filling out.  Well, it seems that my grandfather, who was a butler for the very wealthy Rothchild family in NYC, was caught having an affair with a maid and was fired.  It was during the depression and now, having lost his job and the trust of his wife, he committed suicide.  

It’s been almost two weeks since I’ve learned all these stories about my family and I’m still quite shaken by it.  Was I lied to?  Considered the “baby” of the family and kept from the hard facts?  Perhaps I had been told but my brain refused to register it.  It all feels very weird - so much unknown history.

But it has also made me think of things in my past that I have never told my children - some wild, stupid and some so traumatic it still impacts my life.  I wonder if they would even want to know or if they would be surprised or possibly hurt to hear these stories from someone else in the future. 

Anyone have any experience with this?  

Anyway, my sister will be coming to visit me next week and I wonder what other skeletons will be falling out of our family closet.   I’m afraid to ask.

A Rose by Any Other Name

When Martha and I had kids we went by Mom and Mommy.  Easy.  As the girls got older they came up with their own nicknames for us, which they still use.  After they married, their husbands called us by our first names.  It all seems to work.

By the end of the year we will be grandparents to two boys. One grandson will have 3 grandmothers, so that's not so difficult.  But the other grandson, because his grandfather has had multiple marriages, will have 5 grandmothers.  

Our daughters are asking what we would like to be called, wanting unique names to distinguish between this abundance of women.   

So any suggestions?  Names you had for your grandmothers, or what you are called?  Any fun/cute names you’ve heard other folks use?  

I’ll answer to almost anything, so all ideas are welcome.

Re-Entry

 My daughters are 18 months apart in age, and they were only one year apart in school.  This worked out great when they were young as they always had each other to play with. But as they got older we realized how we never got a break from age related festivities.  One year the oldest was invited to bar and bat mitzvahs and then the next year, the youngest.  We only had one quinceanera invitation so we were lucky there, and then came a couple of years of sweet 16 parties.  Of course, we just had to buy presents for these.  

But then came the invites that included us.  A couple of years of sports’ banquets and high school graduations, with a brief pause before the college graduations started up.  It seemed like all I was doing was buying presents, agonizing about what to wear and wandering aimlessly at parties trying to avoid people, praying for it to be over soon.

Then a lovely lull.  The kids and their friends were moving out and establishing their careers.   They were having their own parties where parents were definitely not invited

And then Covid.  

Not discounting all the loss and hardship and the isolation that quarantine caused, it was an easy time for an introvert like me.  No invitations. No obligations.  No awkward trying to make small talk with people I hardly knew.  Nirvana.

But almost all my daughter’s friends had gotten engaged prior to Covid and everyone was forced to postpone engagement parties, showers, and weddings.  Multiple times.  Until now.

We have now received 7 wedding invites, 6 wedding showers, 1 baby shower and 2 housewarmings.  And we know more are coming.  And this introvert is starting to panic.

The first is the worst.  This weekend we will be driving 5 hours away to attend a baby shower that Peachie’s mother-in-law is throwing for that side of the family.  The side where I know no one.  Where I can’t bring my own car to escape early.  Stuck hundreds of miles from home. Anxiety on steroids.

I once worked for years at overcoming trauma related anxiety.  I know, intellectually,  what to do and how to manage it.  But I have never had great social skills to begin with and like the rest of my body, those skills have atrophied.  

Martha does remind me how lucky we are to not only have great relationships with our daughters but also with their friends. And I agree.  But this just feels like too much, too soon.

Wish me luck.  The struggle is real.

Full of Grace

 I have been trying to be more active in the blogging world, catching up on friends, old and new, and trying to write a few posts myself.  However, I have been having quite the problem leaving comments on blogs and also replying to comments left on my site.  I *think* I have now solved the problem (a security setting) but I do apologize if my comments haven’t appeared in the last couple of weeks, or perhaps appeared 15 times as I tried to work it out.  Please know that I have been reading along.

Living in New York, I had the opportunity to see Cicely Tyson in her last Broadway role in The Gin Game.  She was 90 years old and maybe 90 pounds dripping wet playing opposite James Earl Jones, a huge bear of a man. They were the only characters in the play for more than 2 hours straight and she was never over shadowed by him.  I feel so honored to have witnessed that performance and to have seen that million dollar smile in person.

Recently a young high school athlete in my town was diagnosed with a rare cancer.  A family friend started a ‘Go Fund Me’ page to help soften the financial burden the family will face for the next year or so.  Within 1 hour the original $30,000 goal was reached.   In 2 days the fund was over $80,000.  We are a small town and that outpouring of support just made my heart swell.

High school sports has just been approved to start playing which means that Martha is back coaching basketball.  Which gives me two things to be grateful for - she is out of the house for 2-3 hours every day AND no spectators are allowed so I don’t have to go sit in a smelly gym twice a week when games start.  Win, win.  

Lastly, yet another snowfall last night. Fortunately, unlike the southern states, we are used to it so it is only a mild inconvenience.  And I have a brand new amazing snowblower to make my job a breeze. 

Life is good.

Vaccinated

 How are vaccines going in your neck of the woods?

In New York they have been slow with an onerous procedure to try to get an appointment.

My oldest daughter was the first in our family to be eligible as she works in a hospital emergency room and a school.  Her hospital coordinated the appointments and has finished the 2 shot protocol.  She had some mild side effects following each dose which kept her in bed for a day.

Martha was in the next eligible group, working in a school.  Again, the school reserved a window of appointments at a local hospital and most of the staff received their doses on the same day.  Of course, the school forgot about the side effects so after each round of shots, a majority of teachers called in sick the following two days with body aches, fatigue and other symptoms.  Lack of staff caused in-school closures. Poor planning.

I was eligible in the 3rd group - the people older than dirt category.  But with no agency sponsoring me, I was on my own to try to get an appointment.  There was a website setup which listed the available sites and whether appointments were available.  But as soon as some were available, they were snatched up.  The trick seemed to be to get on the site after midnight and keep hitting ‘refresh’ until something opened and then be able to sign up in a nanosecond or it was gone.  I finally got an appointment for the end of March at a local university.  Many people were getting appointments for their parents, but had to drive 4 hours away for a site with available vaccines.  

But then last week Beaner called me to say that a friend of hers who works in a sister hospital said that because of the impending snow storm, they had a number of cancellations and if I could get there within the hour I could get the shot.  I drove thru the snow got the Moderna shot on a Monday afternoon and felt well enough to do the snow blowing a few times on Tuesday.  But Wednesday morning I woke up feeling like someone had poured concrete into all my joints and I slept most of the day.   And then I was fine again.  

I get my second dose on March 1st and have made no plans for the following days as I’ve heard that the side effects could be worse.  But then I hope, taking all other precautions, to be able to  go visit my daughter in Florida.  I will have to quarantine upon my return but that’s not a problem.  Oh wait, and that rule seems to have changed too.  It’s hard to stay current on all the protocols.  I am now reading that the appointment procedure has now also changed and it should be much easier to get scheduled.  I hope so.

I have not been out and about much due to the pandemic.  Having the vaccine has made me feel a little more confident about exposure to other people.  Having an adult as President has made me feel much more confident about the future health of our country.  Now if we could just get a vaccine against hate and stupidity . . .

Hope springs eternal.

Happier Days Are Here Again

Wow, it has been a long time since I posted here.  I had had a difficult time with a trauma anniversary last year and an even more difficult time shaking off that dark cloak of sadness.  

And then the pandemic hit which cancelled my oldest daughter’s bridal shower, bachelorette party and wedding.   She also works in a school and in a hospital which has us all on edge while Martha, who has underlying medical conditions, has been teaching remotely from home.  

I won’t even go into the morass of the Trump administration and what a clusterf*ck it has been to our country, our family and our mental health.

And just as I was about to celebrate 9 years of being cancer free, I was diagnosed with Melanoma cancer.  

It’s been quite a year.  

But the one thing that has always gotten me through the hard times was focusing on the many things I should be grateful for and so here are some:

We managed to host a small, intimate wedding at the lake so my daughter is no longer living in sin. 

All other wedding plans have been reimagined and rescheduled.  The original invitations were quite elegant, the second date (again cancelled) were short but still lovely.  The third try at a date is a postcard that says “Shit Happens”   Hopefully, the third time - now in December - will be a charm.

Martha has made a final decision to retire at the end of this school year.  It has been an extremely difficult decision for her, but we are looking forward to the world opening up, being able to travel more and enjoying more leisure activities outside the confines of the school calendar.  Or perhaps we will kill each other from being together all the time.  It will certainly be an adjustment.

I underwent a successful surgery to remove the melanoma cancer, which was fortunately caught very early.  I now have a huge chunk of flesh missing from behind my knee and I look forward to telling people about my ‘shark attack’.

Because of my second cancer diagnosis my oncologist recommended that I have a PET scan - not an easy thing for someone who seriously suffers from claustrophobia.  I am VERY grateful for Valium and a report that says I am now cancer free.

We now have an adult in the White House. 

As I sit here and watch another snowstorm sit over our region, I have a new snowblower that has easy turn wheels and heated handles.  My arthritis hands are extremely grateful.

Ordering seeds and starting my garden under grow lights.  There is something so magical about watching seedlings sprout. Especially in winter.

And lastly (although there are many, many more things of which I am grateful)  just as I was about to publish this, my youngest daughter called to say she is pregnant.  I am about to become a grandma.  

Happier days are indeed here again.