Trying to learn new skills

All right. I got a new camera cable and I was going to try to add pictures. It's not working. I need some of my geeky friends to show me what I'm doing wrong. I WANTED to include a picture of me in Canada, one week pre -surgery, on snowshoes. And I WANTED to show you all the cranial prostheses and maybe open it up to a vote. And I WANTED to show some of the sweaters I've done--especially the little girls' sweaters before I ship them off to Georgia. But NO. Geeky friends, I need you.
I'm doing ok at the moment, still on the pre and post steroid meds. All bets are off for the next few days, though. Maybe I can figure out how to get the pictures up yet...
xxooxx

Third Chemo

Not so bad--only four hours. I should be feeling pretty good till sometime Friday or Saturday. this time we will be pulling out the big guns for pain relief. I have strict instructions to call the doctor if it doesn't help. We'll see. I had Elaine take pictures of me in all my CP's--now all I have to do is find the cable from my computer to the camera then you can all vote on which one you like best. Not that it will matter--I'll still wear what I want to wear when I want to wear it. So the next project will be finding the cable--or buying a new one...I guess that is a worthy cause. I never got back to sleep this morning. When the sun came up at six, I finally got up and worked on the little girls' sweaters. They are ready to send to Georgia now and I'm working on two more projects. That's my news.
xxooxx

Insomnia

Oh--I haven't yet discussed this subject, near and dear to all chemo patients. That is why I am up at 3 in the morning when I have a 9 o'clock chemo appointment. I've been traveling through the wide wonderful world of sleep aids. Haven't found a favorite yet, but I haven't tried them all. I am beginning to understand how people overdose. So, do I get up and knit--seems overkill, besides, both arms are bright red from trying to finish the sweaters for the little girls in Atlanta. I'm so close, albeit less close than I was when I realized that two skeins of a different dye lot made it into my bag of yarn. One I had already used on the two year old's sleeves and also on the back ribbing band for the three year old. I discovered the error as I was about to start sleeve #2 for the three year old. So back to the yarn shop to trade out the last wrong skein for a right skein. The owner gave me a second one, since she loves me, I spend lots of money there, and I'd done so much work, and she should have checked the dye lots in the first place. So this afternoon, I finished sleeve #2 for the three year old--the rest of the sweater is done and just waiting for the sleeve seems and setting in the sleeves--and I got 2/3 through with the errant sleeve for the 2 year old. Sleeve #1 for her only has two or three wrong rows. I'll decide what to do about that when everything else is finished. It shouldn't take very long. With luck, I'll have them packed up and ready to mail off by Friday. So maybe I won't to that right now. I could read more James Patterson--I'm on "Violates are Blue," I think I have only three or four more Alex Cross novels to read, I've read all of the Women's Murder Club, but there are several other non serial books to read. Then I can move on to John Gresham. I've only read "The Appeal," loved it, and want to read more. I could just stare into space or count sheep or just give it up and wait for 7 to come and have breakfast and get ready for that 9 o'clock chemo. More later.
xxooxx

More little things

So now my Outlook seems to be corrupted. Now I'm talking to SBC Global tech support. What power thinks I want to spend my time talking to tech support? I could use Yahoo mail, but I like Outlook. All my addresses are there. My group update is there. I'm not a happy girl. And I'm not an excessively comfortable girl. I got my wound opened--again--yesterday. That didn't hurt because the area was numbed--but it did get a little achy when that wore off. Now I think I'm going to have an open wound for the rest of my life.
I'm being a blonde today, so life is more fun...Well, I was a blonde--I took my hair off because it was getting too hot and itchy.
So now we're holding for more tech support. It took an excessively long time, but I think it is now fixed. I have had my share of tech support for the forseeable future.
xxooxx

These little things...

Have you ever noticed that a good counter irritant will take your mind off your other troubles? Two years ago, I got a cute new cell phone because I wanted to be able to access my e-mails wherever I went. I know, I'm not that important to the fate of the free world, but I really like to keep in touch when I'm away from my computer. So I got this great phone. It helped me stay in touch when I was at the hospital.
So anyway, I've been getting these e-mails that I've ignored about how Blackberry was going to be updated and I needed to do something. Oops. Now I know the guys at Advent are already snickering because they know how tech savvy I am. After I got sufficiently frustrated, I called att mobility. after a long chat with customer service, she got as frustrated as I am. Now I'm on hold being transferred to Research in Motion (aka Blackberry). So you are holding with me...So we talked to RIM--they were useless. Now we're going to Nokia...hang on...Oops--Nokia couldn't help us either. Now we are back to ATT tech support. They weren't helpful either, but, I think the wonderful ATT rep fixed it herself. We're waiting to see how things work. I received a message, now we're trying to send. So this has taken two hours of my busy little day.
Let's hear it for counter irritants!
xxooxx

If I only have one life to live...

Those of you who are old enough know that the next line is "Let me live it as a blonde." Works for me. I picked up cranial prostheses numbers three and four yesterday. I haven't worn the redhead on the streets yet, but the blonde one is great. Glenn is worried that it will cost loss of brain cells. I say it leads to more exercise as I learn to flip it back. I love it.
So more good news--the wound is now only one cm deep. Wippee! Unfortunately, the opening is closing so I have an appointment Friday for the surgeon to open it up a little bit. I can handle that. It is uncomfortable for a day or so, but it beats having the thing close and get infected again.
I finished the first of the two sweaters for my night nurse's daughters and didn't have enough yarn to complete the second one, so I had to make a trip to the yarn store. Bad idea. Should have called and had her send the three skeins I needed. When I go to the shop, I want everything I see. Good thing I have LOTS of time to knit. Now I'm hustling on sweater #2 so that I can move on to other stuff and try to clear out some of the bags of yarn.
I'm now 2/3 through this chemo cycle. I know I need the next week for healthy cells to grow. Even so, this week I'll be pawing the ground, just waiting to get session #3 over. I still think the best idea would have been to put me in coma till the whole process is over--but then, I wouldn't get to knit. I guess life is always a series of trade offs.
xxooxx

38 years ago today

I have always been a numbers person and a recognizer of anniversaries. 38 years ago today I took the bus from Berkeley to San Francisco and made my way to 633 Folsom Street, for my very first day at Pacific Telephone. It was a desperation job--they hired me, I wanted to get my own apartment and start my life. I never expected to work for the telephone company, I never expected to work in an office, and I certainly never expected to be there 32 years and 26 days. It had a profound effect on who I am today. I made life long (at least I hope so, since some of us aren't dead yet) friends. I became a more tolerant person. I had fun and I had heartaches. I made the transition from paper records to computers. I found things I was good at. I remember tubs and tubmates, APO's, CDRP's, RRG's, ARF's, IRF's, K304's, and endless filing. I found joy in strange places-and I wouldn't go back there for a million dollars a day.
28 years ago today, to celebrate my 10th anniversary with TPC (The Phone Company for those of you who never saw The President's Analyst), Mount St. Helens erupted. It was perhaps a little too festive for the occasion, but there you are.
The fog didn't actually make it to our house today, but I can see it and it did cool us down somewhat. The Giants game hasn't started yet, so there is still hope for today.
xxooxx

Fog

The fog is finally coming in--not, however, on little cat feet. It is blowing a gale outside and I'm loving it. I'm hoping to be able to see and chew the air in the morning. It has been way hotter than I'm happy with for the last few days. Even with the heat, though, they have been productive days. Thursday afternoon I went back to the cranial prosthesis shop with my friend Dory. I picked up the CP that came as close as possible to my natural hair color. And I ordered two more, so that I can be a blond or redhead as the mood strikes me. The red one brings out every bit of Irish blood I own, so I think it will be part of my Celtic Fiddling attire even after my own hair comes back (presumably sometime in 2009). It was a little over the top, but what is the point of going through this whole exercise if I can't be a little over the top.
From the hair store we went on to Stanford Shopping Center, where I did my bit to keep Macy's in the black. It was good to shop. We followed that with dinner at Max's. I almost felt like a normal person.
Friday was dressing change day. That, too, was good. The wound is only 2 cm and may very well close on its own before I'm done with chemo. I see both surgeons about that on Monday. I hope they are as pleased with the progress as I am.
Today was the Spring Tea at church. I got to wear a new dress and new hair. The hair was warm--no, it was hot--but I didn't think yanking it off and fanning myself would have been terribly tasteful. The tea was delightful. I ate myself stupid and enjoyed every minute of it. My Oncologist made the mistake of telling me this wasn't a time to be dieting and I took her at her word. There is just something about little tea sandwiches and dainty cookies and fresh fruit and dainty cookies and dainty cookies. Oh, and did I mention the cookies? I came home and took a three hour nap. Cookies are exhausting.
The Giants must know I'm feeling better, because they are not doing at all well. I hope they don't think that they only time they can win is when I'm feeling like crap.
I'm going to enjoy some cold air now.
xxooxx

Good Things

I'm more or less out of pain, at least out of big major wake me up when it's over pain. The open wound is closing, slowly but surely. When I cam home from the hospital the end of March, the tube was 7 cm deep--it is now 2 and the nurses can actually see the end of it when they pack it. Maybe it will heal on its own from the inside the way it is supposed to and save me yet another procedure when I'm done with chemo. And now that I'm done with the major pain for this round, I officially consider myself 1/3 through with chemo, The next two weeks of feeling relatively good are gravy.
It is beastly hot, which I just don't do, but with the G I Jane do, it is easy to keep my head cool. Even the hot won't last forever. The marine layer is just waiting to be sucked in when the heat in the valley creates enough of a vacuum on the coast. I'm looking for nice gray air I can see and chew. In the meantime, I did a small search and destroy mission on my dresser and found the remote control for my bedroom fan. Life is sweet at the moment.
xxooxx

On the mend

So this seems to be the pattern. Chemo on Wednesday, start feeling bad sometime Friday, and by Tuesday, I'm working my way out of it. I actually dressed today and have somewhat more energy. I definitely hurt less. I've added another layette to the stash of baby clothes and have started on a set of sweaters for the daughters of my night nurse from the second stay at the hospital. The challenge there is that I'm actually making something I've never made before, so I'll have to be a little heads up while I'm working on it--as opposed to the two patterns that I can actually do in my sleep.
This is exciting. I have two weeks of feeling almost good stretching out before me with only four appointments before the next session. I'll try not to go too crazy. Maybe I'll take a nap so that I have the energy to deal with all this feeling good.
xxooxx

As good a Mother's Day as it could be

So I didn't make it to church this morning. In general, I haven't been hurting as much as the first time, but I didn't feel good enough to get dressed and be sociable. The orcs are somewhat less aggressive, perhaps beaten back by the magic of naproxen sodium. My daughter, Elaine, called to wish me a Happy Mother's Day. She's feeling bad that she can't see me, but she and her family have been sharing a virus for weeks and I don't need that.
Glenn fixed soup for lunch and ran errands for me. The Giants won, even though I didn't have the energy to watch the end of the game.
My niece, Victoria, and nephew, Kyle, came over in the late afternoon and brought the fixings for a delicious dinner. Grilled stuffed chicken, potatoes with sage, salad, and fresh cherries and ice cream for desert. They did all the work and entertained me to boot. I was just planning on letting Mom's Day happen without me, because I knew I would be feeling crappy. I'm glad I didn't. I'm still beating back orcs, but I'm happy and content.
xxooxx

Not so bad but not good either

I guess they sent fewer orcs on the foray this time. I've got no energy at all and am having random pains, but so far it is tolerable. At least the Giants won for me this afternoon. I'm not feeling terribly witty at the moment--just wanted to stick my head above ground to let you know I'm still kicking.
xxooxx

Doing well today

Still feeling fine...so far. I'm still losing hair, but in quarter inch pieces now so it won't clog the plumbing or break a vacuum cleaner--should anyone choose to come over here and vacuum.
I went to a fairly large Eastern Star function last night, in the cranial prosthesis. It was amazing the number of people who flat out didn't recognize me--and I wore a dress I've worn before. General reaction was "Keep the color." I'm planning on going to my own Chapter tonight--we'll see what the verdict is there.
Maybe the Giants will take pity on me and start winning tomorrow as I start feeling crappy.
xxooxx

Second of Six

Chemo wasn't bad, just long, but not as long as last time. I got there about 9:15 and we were on the road by 2, and that was after stopping at the bakery. I finished a layette and blanket and started on a hat to match the baby blanket, so at least it is productive time.
I wore the wig--er cranial prosthesis--it still takes a little getting used to--especially for me since I've never had hair that color, even it my experimental days. But, it's better than the buzz cut in public--I wouldn't want to scare the horses, after all. That's it for today. I'm expecting to feel pretty good today and tomorrow. Friday should be a different story.
xxooxx

Bewigged

One more step on this cancer journey. I now have the first of two cranial prostheses. It is not the one that matched my hair color--apparently that one is custom made and takes a little longer. Glenn said I look like a teenager. We will see what the rest of the world thinks as I spring myself on them.
At the hair replacement salon, first they shaved of my remaining hair (about 1/4 to 1/3 of my original volume). If I ever had a desire to become a Marine, this would be the time to apply. It was sad watching it go, but better in the long run. I threw away the plastic bag with the fallen hair I'd been collecting--it was one giant hairball. I feel like I'm wearing a hat, but I suppose I will get used to it. I had really good hair, which was a good thing, because I was never really good with it. I somehow missed the part in junior high school when everyone else was learning to fix their hair. I'm still kind of useless with a blow drier and a brush, so it was God's own mercy that my hair had a nice natural wave. With a good cut, I could pretty much just scrunch and fluff while it was drying and I looked about as fine as I was going to look.
So now I have cyberhair (and yes, that is what it is called) with a memory. My scalp still hurts and I'm so ready for this whole adventure to be behind me. Too bad--there's a long way to go. Tomorrow is chemo number two, and that will take what hair is left. After that, I will have a year to a year and a half to learn to love my cranial prosthesis.
xxooxx

Hairwatch

"Give me down to there, shoulder length or longer..." The lyrics keep running through my head. Might even be worth finding a turntable and hauling out my old late 60's recording of "Hair." The hair loss has started in earnest. At first it was the H&G thing of dropping a trail of hair wherever I went. This morning, my scalp hurt--losing chunks of hair can't be far behind. Individual strands are still coming out, but in greater number.
I remember being terribly concerned that my mother would lose her hair when she was diagnosed with leukemia--16 years and five days before they found my cancer. Eventually, hair loss was a non-issue, with all the other stuff that was going on. I know it has to happen, and I know that it will grow back before the end of the year. I have lots of pretty scarves and hats and the wigs are on order and due in on Tuesday. I'm trying to be strong about it, but right now all that isn't working. I almost wish that at a given signal it would all fall out and get it over with--there's that patience thing getting in the way of reality again. I could have it cut short or off--I just couldn't bring myself to do that. Some perverse part of me wants to mourn each hair that falls to the ground. I never used to mind losing the white hairs, but the brown ones are traitors. I always wanted to tape them back when they would come out before in the natural cycle of hair.
So I'm feeling sorry for myself this morning. My scalp hurts and I need someone to follow me around with a dust pan. I'll get over it.
xxooxx

May Day, 2008

When we were little, our mother and grandmother always told us that if we got up early on May Day, went out and bathed in the dew, we would be beautiful all year. Another golden opportunity lost. The morning dew did not see me today. Actually, the morning dew has never seen me--perhaps that's the problem. Even when I was a little girl (and yes, at one time I was a little girl--I've been 5 foot 6 since I was eleven but I didn't start out that tall), bathing in the dew just didn't sound like something I would like to do.
It's a holiday in Europe. Last year we went to the D-Day beaches and Mont St. Michel. It was a day of somber reflection and a dinner where we laughed so hard our sides hurt. It was our typical local dinner, complete with a first course of fruits de Mer that few of us recognized--or knew how to eat. After dinner, Tim, Lesley, and I walked from our hotel back to Mont St. Michel--about 3 miles round trip. We climbed up narrow streets and tiny little staircases and laughed lots more. I kept asking myself what I was doing out walking in the middle of the night. Unlike a normal walk, it was WAY longer on the way back. i just couldn't convince the two of them that since I was old enough to be their mother, they should carry me back.
I am now, officially, on Hairwatch. Everything I've read or heard says that hair loss usually starts between week 2 and 3 after starting chemo. Yesterday was week 2. I don't know quite what I'm expecting--to wake up with a head of hair left on my pillow, to shower it all off, to leave a trail of hair like Hansel and Gretl with the breadcrumbs. So I'm checking the comb and waiting. There's a lot of waiting with cancer. Patience has never been a part of my constitution and now I have to practice it on so many fronts.
I wonder if there is any dew left. Maybe I'll see if it works. Or maybe I'll save that for next year.
xxooxx