So I got to meet the headshrinker at the Cancer Institute today. He's a good guy. A little "not together" (his white coat fell off the chair, he dropped his Trio. . . ) but good.
I am A-OK to go back on Effexor XR even with the Tamoxifen. Whew. I didn't know how I was going to make it through without the happy pills that also STOP hot flashes--or at least lessen them severely. I am to "titrate" (work up to) 150 mg. I will start out at 37.5--that is if I can get the low dose pre-authorized by the insurance co. The doc did call the fools there to help me with this process. We'll see how he did in a day or two.
He said I was "remarkably well adjusted" for all I've been through (more than 40 weeks of chemo, rads, surgery, breaking up with someone just at 1 year into my treatment. . . ) I agree.
This week church, yoga, and exercise are working for me. Along with some new girlfriends, my dog and emotional overeating. Yeah, that's not news, huh?!
I am SO tired I think I'm going to go head over for a nap. The dogs agree that it's wise. Caspie is trying to configure his blankie right now.
Be well.
Jenn
Thursday, February 15, 2007
Wednesday, February 14, 2007
Good Days
I had a wonderful day with an ex-boyfriend yesterday. Although we were never exclusive we were a very hot & heavy item for a while. I can honestly say despite the fact that I never told him to his face I loved him very dearly, and still do. It may be different affection now, but he's still so special to me. It's hard to stay mad at him or focused on any shortcomings when one's had such a great day.
He needed a blue blazer. He must "act his wages" now. . . good point. I've been on to him, his friend in HR's been on to him and most people he knows have been telling him as a Regional Manager for this well known environmental engineering firm, he CAN'T (or shouldn't) dress like a grad student anymore. He's in front of customers more and needed a sportscoat, not a suit but something nicer than a button down (rolled up to the elbows) and Docker khaki's.
In two minutes we had the right jacket. In a few more it was marked for alterations to fit perfectly. Within twenty minutes we had new buttons picked out. (He is NOT a brass button type of guy, and I think the gray buttons will look "sharp.") It was painless for him and fun for me.
Yesterday was grey and ended up rainy--but I couldn't stop smiling because it was just so good to be with him. Healing, centering, calming. . .restoring. I'm sure his girlfriend wouldn't appreciate my wearing a low cut top (he's a boob man.) Hey chick, I wore the schlumpy sweater (cardigan) over. . . so I looked sexy but not trying to look sexy sexy. . . LOL. Probably a complete figment of my imagination.
Dating after the age of 30 is hard. And I was with him for a long time. So hey, what else is a girl to do?
Today was a big hassle day. I've had a hard time getting my RX's for two drugs covered by insurance so while they're filled at the Target Pharmacy, I am NOT paying $182 for them when insurance should cover them. GRRRR!
He needed a blue blazer. He must "act his wages" now. . . good point. I've been on to him, his friend in HR's been on to him and most people he knows have been telling him as a Regional Manager for this well known environmental engineering firm, he CAN'T (or shouldn't) dress like a grad student anymore. He's in front of customers more and needed a sportscoat, not a suit but something nicer than a button down (rolled up to the elbows) and Docker khaki's.
In two minutes we had the right jacket. In a few more it was marked for alterations to fit perfectly. Within twenty minutes we had new buttons picked out. (He is NOT a brass button type of guy, and I think the gray buttons will look "sharp.") It was painless for him and fun for me.
Yesterday was grey and ended up rainy--but I couldn't stop smiling because it was just so good to be with him. Healing, centering, calming. . .restoring. I'm sure his girlfriend wouldn't appreciate my wearing a low cut top (he's a boob man.) Hey chick, I wore the schlumpy sweater (cardigan) over. . . so I looked sexy but not trying to look sexy sexy. . . LOL. Probably a complete figment of my imagination.
Dating after the age of 30 is hard. And I was with him for a long time. So hey, what else is a girl to do?
Today was a big hassle day. I've had a hard time getting my RX's for two drugs covered by insurance so while they're filled at the Target Pharmacy, I am NOT paying $182 for them when insurance should cover them. GRRRR!
Tuesday, February 6, 2007
Today I'm kinda out of words
I had been writing a good bit of late. . .
And suddenly, I didn't want to. I felt more like I should be a person of action and not just all "write" but I think morein it had to do with sticking my head in the sand.
I'm not usually a fan of "the ostrich" method of dealing . . . but it's felt right for the past couple of weeks. "Don't ask, don't tell." Only I can't get away with that 100% because I belong to a theraputic writer's group and I have to tell. We wrote about Eternity the other day. That was the assignment. Someone pulled the word "Eternity" out of a jar and we wrote for five minutes. Here's what I had to day:
There is no eternity. NOTHING is forever. There is only today. Today and the hope of tomorrow. Eternity is too optimistic for me. I can't believe in it anymore. The road does not go that far, even the miles beyond my view, at a certain point cease to exist. Eternity is for those who dream and fail to embrace that ALL things end. Everything comes to a logical conclusion. There is a beginning and an end--even in a circle. I hope someday to wear that mystical ring, but maybe I will have the Priest skip that part--because right now, the truest thing in my world is that nothing lasts forever.
And isn't it selfish to want it to? Aren't we often better about honoring the memories of things we've lost than we are about investing time in that which we have?
Most everyone else wrote about epherial things, Heaven, the hope, God's love. Why I took it to a darker place I have no idea. But I'm glad I was honest with myself. I don't whip out what I think people want to hear, after all part of the group is supposed to be "therapy" right?
Ugh. Without ruining the confidentiality of anyone in the group there was someone there who'd lost their mate and house recently. After surviving cancer. It was like: "Here you go, OOPS, no, be alone!" I guess her friends haven't been supportive either. I felt horrible for her. Here you are in a place where it's "about me" and it isn't. . . it's about a group, and a person, and not you, and offering some comfort to someone else. Only I have no words. I have no similar experience. I can't even offer a medication suggestion (which I often do in my young women's group. LOL.) All I can do is nod empathetically and try not to start crying. Not because I didn't want to join her in her tears, just because I was afraid I wouldn't stop crying. It's kind of a luxury to let yourself. I do "push the steam valve" for myself sometimes, but I try not to wallow. It's a fine line.
I need I think, to go back to my attitude of grattitude and just be thankful for everything. Of course that's going to kind of ruin my "being mad at cancer" this go-around. Don't get me wrong, I will NEVER be one of those people who sees their DX as a blessing. But I can take my days here on earth as them.
And suddenly, I didn't want to. I felt more like I should be a person of action and not just all "write" but I think morein it had to do with sticking my head in the sand.
I'm not usually a fan of "the ostrich" method of dealing . . . but it's felt right for the past couple of weeks. "Don't ask, don't tell." Only I can't get away with that 100% because I belong to a theraputic writer's group and I have to tell. We wrote about Eternity the other day. That was the assignment. Someone pulled the word "Eternity" out of a jar and we wrote for five minutes. Here's what I had to day:
There is no eternity. NOTHING is forever. There is only today. Today and the hope of tomorrow. Eternity is too optimistic for me. I can't believe in it anymore. The road does not go that far, even the miles beyond my view, at a certain point cease to exist. Eternity is for those who dream and fail to embrace that ALL things end. Everything comes to a logical conclusion. There is a beginning and an end--even in a circle. I hope someday to wear that mystical ring, but maybe I will have the Priest skip that part--because right now, the truest thing in my world is that nothing lasts forever.
And isn't it selfish to want it to? Aren't we often better about honoring the memories of things we've lost than we are about investing time in that which we have?
Most everyone else wrote about epherial things, Heaven, the hope, God's love. Why I took it to a darker place I have no idea. But I'm glad I was honest with myself. I don't whip out what I think people want to hear, after all part of the group is supposed to be "therapy" right?
Ugh. Without ruining the confidentiality of anyone in the group there was someone there who'd lost their mate and house recently. After surviving cancer. It was like: "Here you go, OOPS, no, be alone!" I guess her friends haven't been supportive either. I felt horrible for her. Here you are in a place where it's "about me" and it isn't. . . it's about a group, and a person, and not you, and offering some comfort to someone else. Only I have no words. I have no similar experience. I can't even offer a medication suggestion (which I often do in my young women's group. LOL.) All I can do is nod empathetically and try not to start crying. Not because I didn't want to join her in her tears, just because I was afraid I wouldn't stop crying. It's kind of a luxury to let yourself. I do "push the steam valve" for myself sometimes, but I try not to wallow. It's a fine line.
I need I think, to go back to my attitude of grattitude and just be thankful for everything. Of course that's going to kind of ruin my "being mad at cancer" this go-around. Don't get me wrong, I will NEVER be one of those people who sees their DX as a blessing. But I can take my days here on earth as them.
Wednesday, January 24, 2007
So Welcome
I've been blogging for a while but due to an ex-g/f even more than insane than me, of an ex boyfriend (yes, that's his ex-girlfriend who's crazy) I had to put my Myspace blog on "private" although I feel the need to get some stuff off my chest. . . LOL more than the 5lbs I lost during a reduction surgery about a year ago last week.
So I'm trying this spot. A friend of mine from a couple groups at Emory uses it so it should be good. . .
Can't hurt, right?
So here's my deal, I am a 34 year old woman living with Stage IV Breast Cancer. Yes, that's what they used to call "end stage" although it turns out, we don't all die quickly and I don't have a life-threatening metastasis at this moment. . . although it could happen at any time. The morality rate for women who have a recurrence within five years of their first diagnosis is only like 50% . I'm drying to embrace my mortality by using the phrase "I am dying. . . " but it sounds so trite. We're ALL dying right? (Not to be too epherial. . . but still. . . )
I'm in pain a good deal of the time. I'm exhausted most often and yet, sometimes, sometimes I feel great. I don't feel sexual at all. Not like flirting, not feminine, not sexy, not for a minute. Most of my "curves" are still there, but my hormones, they're just all fucked up. Well, they're supressed, because it turns out the essence of being a woman (estrogen) was killing me. (My breast cancer is Estrogen Receptor positive.) And my hair. . . yes, it's growing back, SLOWLY, thank GOD! But it's not the long blonde locks that I had and LOVED for so long. . . yeah, yeah, it's just hair--you try losing yours twice in two years. I know I'm whining, but hell, it's my blog. If you don't want to read it, don't. Jeez. So anyhow, my "mojo" is gone. I'm so not attune to men that I feel weird in my own skin. . . I used to love the boys! Now they're just usually people poking and prodding or asking to see an exam as part of their med school education. I started out really glad to help but I don't love med students as much as I did two years ago. I mean, what's in it for me?
I have dated a pile of Mike's. We counted them the other day, I think I'm up to 7 but on recount I lost someone so I have to go write them all down again. . . so if I ever mention one, you may wish to ask "Which one" was that. . . although if you know me via years/time, we can generally determine who he was. I tried not to date so many Mikes, but 3 men ago, he used the "I go by Michael" excuse. . . and then the next one was around and comforted me so greatly at the break up of the prior. . . and then this summer there was a YOUNG guy (OK over 25. . . ) who I tried not to go out with but I somehow got tricked into meeting. . . and he was nice. Too bad for him he was a horrible kisser. He seemed like good potential boyfriend material.
I am proud "mama" to a Jack Russell Terrier. Casper. He's almost all white. Pure Jack, if you know what that means (spring, sprong legs, high energy, smart and pure love bug!) I would die if he weren't around. Many days he is THE reason I get up and put something other than flannel PJ's on. Although I have been known to walk him in said PJ's and sweatshirt/coat. The neighbors will just have to deal. After all, I am dying of cancer, what the hell do you want from me? Ha.
Back in the day I was a Cosmo swilling party girl. Could dance for hours with the best of them. And still be at work at 8:30 am the next day. I'm not sure how I kept that up for as long as I did. When I was done with it, I was pretty done although all that exercising kept me in good "shape" for drinkin' with the young ones when I was a recruiter. But at $10 a pop, it was too expensive to drink Martini's in our building more than once/twice a week. . . especially if I hadn't hit "bonus" (commission.)
I loved College. I went to UGA and had a very "well rounded" education. That's code for I learned to party as hard as I could, get decent grades AND work/intern too. That's liberal arts for you. GO DAWGS.
I have not done much today other than clean up the kitchen and make chili. Walked my dog and the neighbor's 3 legged chihuahua daschund mix: Bob Newheart. He's my dog's one and only canine friend (so far.) They are curled up on my neighbor's couch right now. (I'm writing from her place, it's a long story.)
Despite that, I am "sore throat-ish" and tired so I'm goign to go grab another jacket and walk "The Boys" before I feed them and take a nap.
More exciting stuff to come I'm sure.
Thanks for reading.
Jenn
So I'm trying this spot. A friend of mine from a couple groups at Emory uses it so it should be good. . .
Can't hurt, right?
So here's my deal, I am a 34 year old woman living with Stage IV Breast Cancer. Yes, that's what they used to call "end stage" although it turns out, we don't all die quickly and I don't have a life-threatening metastasis at this moment. . . although it could happen at any time. The morality rate for women who have a recurrence within five years of their first diagnosis is only like 50% . I'm drying to embrace my mortality by using the phrase "I am dying. . . " but it sounds so trite. We're ALL dying right? (Not to be too epherial. . . but still. . . )
I'm in pain a good deal of the time. I'm exhausted most often and yet, sometimes, sometimes I feel great. I don't feel sexual at all. Not like flirting, not feminine, not sexy, not for a minute. Most of my "curves" are still there, but my hormones, they're just all fucked up. Well, they're supressed, because it turns out the essence of being a woman (estrogen) was killing me. (My breast cancer is Estrogen Receptor positive.) And my hair. . . yes, it's growing back, SLOWLY, thank GOD! But it's not the long blonde locks that I had and LOVED for so long. . . yeah, yeah, it's just hair--you try losing yours twice in two years. I know I'm whining, but hell, it's my blog. If you don't want to read it, don't. Jeez. So anyhow, my "mojo" is gone. I'm so not attune to men that I feel weird in my own skin. . . I used to love the boys! Now they're just usually people poking and prodding or asking to see an exam as part of their med school education. I started out really glad to help but I don't love med students as much as I did two years ago. I mean, what's in it for me?
I have dated a pile of Mike's. We counted them the other day, I think I'm up to 7 but on recount I lost someone so I have to go write them all down again. . . so if I ever mention one, you may wish to ask "Which one" was that. . . although if you know me via years/time, we can generally determine who he was. I tried not to date so many Mikes, but 3 men ago, he used the "I go by Michael" excuse. . . and then the next one was around and comforted me so greatly at the break up of the prior. . . and then this summer there was a YOUNG guy (OK over 25. . . ) who I tried not to go out with but I somehow got tricked into meeting. . . and he was nice. Too bad for him he was a horrible kisser. He seemed like good potential boyfriend material.
I am proud "mama" to a Jack Russell Terrier. Casper. He's almost all white. Pure Jack, if you know what that means (spring, sprong legs, high energy, smart and pure love bug!) I would die if he weren't around. Many days he is THE reason I get up and put something other than flannel PJ's on. Although I have been known to walk him in said PJ's and sweatshirt/coat. The neighbors will just have to deal. After all, I am dying of cancer, what the hell do you want from me? Ha.
Back in the day I was a Cosmo swilling party girl. Could dance for hours with the best of them. And still be at work at 8:30 am the next day. I'm not sure how I kept that up for as long as I did. When I was done with it, I was pretty done although all that exercising kept me in good "shape" for drinkin' with the young ones when I was a recruiter. But at $10 a pop, it was too expensive to drink Martini's in our building more than once/twice a week. . . especially if I hadn't hit "bonus" (commission.)
I loved College. I went to UGA and had a very "well rounded" education. That's code for I learned to party as hard as I could, get decent grades AND work/intern too. That's liberal arts for you. GO DAWGS.
I have not done much today other than clean up the kitchen and make chili. Walked my dog and the neighbor's 3 legged chihuahua daschund mix: Bob Newheart. He's my dog's one and only canine friend (so far.) They are curled up on my neighbor's couch right now. (I'm writing from her place, it's a long story.)
Despite that, I am "sore throat-ish" and tired so I'm goign to go grab another jacket and walk "The Boys" before I feed them and take a nap.
More exciting stuff to come I'm sure.
Thanks for reading.
Jenn
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