I took Reese and Eli to the farmer's market this morning. I can't resist the farmer's market, and we're so lucky to have such a great one every week. Seriously, it's huge. We were just about done, having gathered squashes, brussels sprouts, beets, bok choy, eggplant, and had just wheeled the wagon back to the curb when my ears caught familiar notes of a guitar. It sounded like college era early 90's grunge music! Right in the middle of the farmer's market! I'm dating myself here, but I still have much love for 90's grunge music. And flannel shirts, even though I don't wear them much anymore.
Of course I hauled the kids over to the source of the music, a grungy looking young kid sitting by the sidewalk, strumming on his guitar and singing. We sat down and listened for a few minutes. I sent Reese up with a dollar for his guitar case. I actually sent her up with another dollar after that and wished I could have given that kid $20 because he really made my morning. So Nirvana singing grungy kid, if you ever stumble across this blog please know you put a smile on my face. And my kids liked your music too.
No real point to this, just a very nice experience in the midst of lots of really craptastic experiences.
Saturday, September 12, 2009
Friday, September 11, 2009
Ring Ring...Hello?
I've become a phone person. I'm not sure how I feel about this. Really, I've talked on the phone more in the past few days than I think I have in a month. If I keep this up, we're going to go over our minutes. Don't get me wrong, I don't mind. My mom calls to see how I'm doing. I talked to my sister for a long time today. An aunt who I love dearly and don't talk to nearly enough and I got a chance to chat.
The best phone call today though was from my very good friend and fellow LLL leader Maggie. She just wanted to check up on me, see if I need anything, and ask if I had any questions. She was on my list of people to call, because I did have a question about nursing after the colonoscopy next Tuesday. Then while explaining that I was down to twice a day anyway, I of course choked up and started crying. Then Maggie said, "Sheri, you're a good mom. You are really a good mom."
What? My kid is cranky and overtired because it takes so much longer for him to go to sleep without nursing. He's frustrated that he is being cut off of his biggest source of comfort. He's complaining he's hungry all the time because before this he nursed all the time and didn't eat all that much. So again I say, WHAT?
Maggie said I could have just weaned cold turkey (for those not in the know, this means basically just cutting a kid off, no warning, just done). Lots of moms in my situation have gone that route. Instead, I'm trying as hard as I can to balance my needs (chemo, etc) and his need to nurse and be weaned in as gentle a way as possible. And she's right. Her being right doesn't make our experience any less difficult. Breastfeeding has been a huge part of my life for the past 4.5 years, of course it's going to be hard.
My little guy is a trooper though, and we're gonna be okay.
The best phone call today though was from my very good friend and fellow LLL leader Maggie. She just wanted to check up on me, see if I need anything, and ask if I had any questions. She was on my list of people to call, because I did have a question about nursing after the colonoscopy next Tuesday. Then while explaining that I was down to twice a day anyway, I of course choked up and started crying. Then Maggie said, "Sheri, you're a good mom. You are really a good mom."
What? My kid is cranky and overtired because it takes so much longer for him to go to sleep without nursing. He's frustrated that he is being cut off of his biggest source of comfort. He's complaining he's hungry all the time because before this he nursed all the time and didn't eat all that much. So again I say, WHAT?
Maggie said I could have just weaned cold turkey (for those not in the know, this means basically just cutting a kid off, no warning, just done). Lots of moms in my situation have gone that route. Instead, I'm trying as hard as I can to balance my needs (chemo, etc) and his need to nurse and be weaned in as gentle a way as possible. And she's right. Her being right doesn't make our experience any less difficult. Breastfeeding has been a huge part of my life for the past 4.5 years, of course it's going to be hard.
My little guy is a trooper though, and we're gonna be okay.
Chop chop
So I was sitting out on the front porch today, watching the kids ride bikes in the street. I happened to have my hair down (falling out of ponytail, had to fix). It's really long, strawberry blonde, thick, kick ass awesome hair. I've always really liked my hair, even going so far as to say I'd never dye it because holy crap, what if I couldn't get it back to its normal color?? My master plan has always been to just leave it alone, getting it cut when I feel like it, and hoping that eventually it will turn white like my Aunt Bob's hair did. I think I could really rock white hair with some crotchety old ladyness. Yeah, yeah, I've been talking about cutting it for a while now. Yes, I've been wishy washy and putzing around and being indecisive about a hair style. There's such a huge difference though between cutting it because I want to and cutting it because the thought of extra long strands of hair falling out all over the place is unappealing. And freaky.
I want to donate it to Locks of Love. I can't imagine NOT doing that, especially now.
I'm not sure I'm ready to sport a short hair cut. The whole losing hair thing is so weird. I keep wondering bizarre stuff, like will my hair grow back in the same color? Is my leg hair going to also fall out? I have to admit, the idea of not shaving isn't so bad. Will my hair still be curly? It was straight before children, and I'm just finally getting used to it being so curly. I'm going to look goofy bald, I just know it.
That's lame stuff to worry about in the scheme of things. I realize that. Fuck you, cancer, for forcing me to cut my kick ass long red hair before I was ready. And you better not screw it up. I'll be pretty pissed if you do.
I want to donate it to Locks of Love. I can't imagine NOT doing that, especially now.
I'm not sure I'm ready to sport a short hair cut. The whole losing hair thing is so weird. I keep wondering bizarre stuff, like will my hair grow back in the same color? Is my leg hair going to also fall out? I have to admit, the idea of not shaving isn't so bad. Will my hair still be curly? It was straight before children, and I'm just finally getting used to it being so curly. I'm going to look goofy bald, I just know it.
That's lame stuff to worry about in the scheme of things. I realize that. Fuck you, cancer, for forcing me to cut my kick ass long red hair before I was ready. And you better not screw it up. I'll be pretty pissed if you do.
Thursday, September 10, 2009
Sigh.
I can't think of very many things that are more fucking awful than my child begging to nurse and having to tell him no. He doesn't understand why it was mostly unlimited access a few days ago, and now he's down to three times a day, soon to be twice, soon to be done. Bedtime has been the hardest, and it sucks. I feel terrible.
Deep down, I know he's going to be okay. He won't be scarred. He's had 3 years and two months of the good stuff. That's way more than most babies get in the United States. I just didn't want it to end like this, I really didn't.
Deep down, I know he's going to be okay. He won't be scarred. He's had 3 years and two months of the good stuff. That's way more than most babies get in the United States. I just didn't want it to end like this, I really didn't.
The Nitty Gritty
Gnitty? I don't think I've ever actually written that phrase. Anyway, I thought I would post some details about how we got to this point, and what's going to be happening.
I went to see my family doctor on August 30th, and she referred me to my current doctor. After much phone tag thanks to a mistake with our phone numbers, I got an appointment to see my current doctor. I saw him on September 8th, and after an initial exam, he suggested a biopsy because he suspected cancer. We were told it might take a week to get results, so I was surprised to get a call the next day (September 9th) with a diagnosis and outline for treatment.
When things start happening so fast, it's overwhelming. I'm still trying to wrap my mind around CANCER, I can't even hardly think about treatment.
So diagnosis: rectal cancer, which has spread to the anus (yeah, lovely, huh?)
Treatment: chemo, surgery (to remove rectum and anus)
Obviously there are little details but it's hard to get all that when you're talking to the doctor outside the Oshkosh library while your children are being watched by a friend (a million thanks, by the way). You get stuck on words like "cancer," "chemo," "colostomy bag." The plan is to have Eric also talk to the doctor. Having us both hear and understand in our different ways will be a good thing.
The plan right now is to get some tests done. I go in on September 15th for a CAT scan, chest xray, blood work, and colonoscopy. My doctor also wants to put the port in for chemo. The following Tuesday, September 22nd, I'll have a PET scan. Sometime very shortly after that I'll start chemo.
So that's where we are, and the beginnings of where we will go.
Did the doctors catch it early enough? I don't know. I went to my family doctor in what I feel was a timely manner. Things weren't right, home remedies weren't helping, I went in. She was fast to refer me. Maybe I'll be better able to answer that question after the tests. Maybe it's neither here nor there. I'd really urge anyone who has anything amiss with their ass to go get it checked out. Eric, what with all his reading, told me that 2% of people with rectal cancer are under 40. It's a common cancer, but uncommon in my age group. Listen to your body, listen to your gut. I felt in my gut that something wasn't right, that's why I went in.
I'll post more as I know more.
I continue to feel so amazingly overwhelmed with the support, thoughts, prayers, and offers of help, from family and friends all over the world.
I went to see my family doctor on August 30th, and she referred me to my current doctor. After much phone tag thanks to a mistake with our phone numbers, I got an appointment to see my current doctor. I saw him on September 8th, and after an initial exam, he suggested a biopsy because he suspected cancer. We were told it might take a week to get results, so I was surprised to get a call the next day (September 9th) with a diagnosis and outline for treatment.
When things start happening so fast, it's overwhelming. I'm still trying to wrap my mind around CANCER, I can't even hardly think about treatment.
So diagnosis: rectal cancer, which has spread to the anus (yeah, lovely, huh?)
Treatment: chemo, surgery (to remove rectum and anus)
Obviously there are little details but it's hard to get all that when you're talking to the doctor outside the Oshkosh library while your children are being watched by a friend (a million thanks, by the way). You get stuck on words like "cancer," "chemo," "colostomy bag." The plan is to have Eric also talk to the doctor. Having us both hear and understand in our different ways will be a good thing.
The plan right now is to get some tests done. I go in on September 15th for a CAT scan, chest xray, blood work, and colonoscopy. My doctor also wants to put the port in for chemo. The following Tuesday, September 22nd, I'll have a PET scan. Sometime very shortly after that I'll start chemo.
So that's where we are, and the beginnings of where we will go.
Did the doctors catch it early enough? I don't know. I went to my family doctor in what I feel was a timely manner. Things weren't right, home remedies weren't helping, I went in. She was fast to refer me. Maybe I'll be better able to answer that question after the tests. Maybe it's neither here nor there. I'd really urge anyone who has anything amiss with their ass to go get it checked out. Eric, what with all his reading, told me that 2% of people with rectal cancer are under 40. It's a common cancer, but uncommon in my age group. Listen to your body, listen to your gut. I felt in my gut that something wasn't right, that's why I went in.
I'll post more as I know more.
I continue to feel so amazingly overwhelmed with the support, thoughts, prayers, and offers of help, from family and friends all over the world.
One of my favorite times of the day is early morning. Yeah, sleep is nice, sleeping late is nice, but having some time alone is nice too. I used to wile away the brief early morning time doing such things as writing junky stories I'll never let anyone read, goofing off on whatever internet game is popular right now (Farmville), catching up on my vegan blog reading, plotting my next sewing project. I make a pot of coffee too, huddling over the coffee grinder to muffle it because I'm positive it wakes Reese up (even though I'm in the kitchen and she's all the way in her room, door closed, noisemaker cranked to babbling brook).
This early morning I can't help thinking about all the things I have to do, big and small. Reese wants to make applesauce so I need to find a recipe. A trip to the library is planned for this morning, books will have to be gathered. If I'm going to the grocery store, we need a list. When the doctor calls, I have to remember to ask how long my appointment on Tuesday will be so we can figure out who will watch the kids. I have to wean Eli in the next 7-10 days. I'm going to cut my hair soon, probably this weekend, and I want a salon that donates to Locks of Love. I should call my sister.
There are few moments during the day when I think about these things. In some ways our lives have ground to a halt. Plans are in limbo, we don't know what's going to happen in the weeks and months ahead. But day to day things don't stop needing attention. I just had to pause this blogging to go get Eli back to sleep. That's exactly what I mean.
Anyway, I lost my train of thought, Reese is suddenly starving, and it's time for us to start our day.
This early morning I can't help thinking about all the things I have to do, big and small. Reese wants to make applesauce so I need to find a recipe. A trip to the library is planned for this morning, books will have to be gathered. If I'm going to the grocery store, we need a list. When the doctor calls, I have to remember to ask how long my appointment on Tuesday will be so we can figure out who will watch the kids. I have to wean Eli in the next 7-10 days. I'm going to cut my hair soon, probably this weekend, and I want a salon that donates to Locks of Love. I should call my sister.
There are few moments during the day when I think about these things. In some ways our lives have ground to a halt. Plans are in limbo, we don't know what's going to happen in the weeks and months ahead. But day to day things don't stop needing attention. I just had to pause this blogging to go get Eli back to sleep. That's exactly what I mean.
Anyway, I lost my train of thought, Reese is suddenly starving, and it's time for us to start our day.
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
Fuck you, ass cancer.
Hey, I warned you.
The title of this blog is from one of my favorite movies, Superbad. I know, I know, swearing and depravity and hijinks and alcohol in Tide containers. Really, if you haven't seen it, it's a pretty good movie. Hilarious, especially when you're feeling happy from your Malibu and Cherry Coke, but still quite funny sober. Anyway, one of my favorite parts of the movie is Seth explaining to his Home Ec teacher why he doesn't want to work alone, and he ends his tirade (in which he basically calls Home Ec a joke, no offense) by saying, almost as an afterthought, "I'm sorry for cursing." I always laugh at that part. I think we might even have just that part somewhere on the DVR, just so I can watch it over and over again.
I suspect in the next weeks and months, I'll need to rely on things I find humorous. Today I found out that I have rectal cancer. What the hell, right? I don't know about you, but rectal cancer has never been a cancer I worried about. Skin cancer? As a redhead, I think I'm obligated to worry about that. Breast cancer? I kind of think most women have fleeting worries about this. So this whole crazy thing came out of nowhere, absolute blindside.
This blog will be my adventures, my thoughts, a record of what's going on. Along the way I'll share more about who I am, about my family, about our life. It's evident that something as huge as a cancer diagnosis can rapidly consume one's life, but that's not all I am, and it's not even the tip of the iceberg of my awesome family.
To friends and family who have sent well wishes, thoughts, and prayers, thank you so much. If I didn't respond to you personally, you probably made me cry (way to go, man...kidding) and then I got distracted. I appreciate everyone in my life right now.
The title of this blog is from one of my favorite movies, Superbad. I know, I know, swearing and depravity and hijinks and alcohol in Tide containers. Really, if you haven't seen it, it's a pretty good movie. Hilarious, especially when you're feeling happy from your Malibu and Cherry Coke, but still quite funny sober. Anyway, one of my favorite parts of the movie is Seth explaining to his Home Ec teacher why he doesn't want to work alone, and he ends his tirade (in which he basically calls Home Ec a joke, no offense) by saying, almost as an afterthought, "I'm sorry for cursing." I always laugh at that part. I think we might even have just that part somewhere on the DVR, just so I can watch it over and over again.
I suspect in the next weeks and months, I'll need to rely on things I find humorous. Today I found out that I have rectal cancer. What the hell, right? I don't know about you, but rectal cancer has never been a cancer I worried about. Skin cancer? As a redhead, I think I'm obligated to worry about that. Breast cancer? I kind of think most women have fleeting worries about this. So this whole crazy thing came out of nowhere, absolute blindside.
This blog will be my adventures, my thoughts, a record of what's going on. Along the way I'll share more about who I am, about my family, about our life. It's evident that something as huge as a cancer diagnosis can rapidly consume one's life, but that's not all I am, and it's not even the tip of the iceberg of my awesome family.
To friends and family who have sent well wishes, thoughts, and prayers, thank you so much. If I didn't respond to you personally, you probably made me cry (way to go, man...kidding) and then I got distracted. I appreciate everyone in my life right now.
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