Sacrifices

I few weeks ago, there was a terrible windstorm in Saint Paul. Luckily for us, it broke one of our trees. We have been waiting for years for that to happen, so that we could get a new garage. We figured that if a tree fell on it - and hopefully at least one of the cars - the insurance settlement would afford us with the perfect opportunity to tear down our structure, which is at least 70 years old, and get a new car ... or maybe two.

Unfortunately, the giant, eight inch tree limb was spared by another tree in it's path. So, instead of crashing through the garage, it just hung there, propped up by another tree that we didn't like, causing no damage at all. So, we took them both down.

Now, we're left with an enormous void in our garden and almost no shade. I guess it's time to get going on that garage.

This morning, Scott was on the computer, sadly sifting through amortization schedules. He was trying to figure out how we will pay for a new garage-mahal, to steal a term coined by our good friends John and Adele. He looked miserable. I thought that I ought to help. So, I offered up a solution.

"If it makes you feel better, I'm going to try not to get cancer, next year."

I suppose that it didn't really solve the problem, but it made him smile. Also, it made me smile because little does he know, trying not to get cancer is kind of an easy job. You just don't take up smoking and do your best not to grow any new ovaries and you're done.

I could have offered to give up eating out or my weekly trip to Caribou, but I didn't want to go overboard.

I Sympathize

You know that song "Wonderful," by Everclear?

The lyrics say:

"Some days I hate everything.

I hate everything.

Everyone and Everything."

I feel like that. It may have something to do with the fact that:

• Owen didn't bother to sleep last night
• And Scott is out of town
• And I didn't have time to do the laundry
• And I didn't have time to write my 15 pages for my class tonight
• And I'm waiting for news from my doctor who last week told me that I "haven't been happy with anything that he has done since the beginning"
• And my pants are tight
• And I have persistently swollen glands that I have been told "not to worry about, because they probably aren't a big deal"
• And I woke up at 2:00 last night and then had to stand in front of the fan and go to the kitchen for an icepack so that I could fall back asleep
• And Laila spent the entire morning drive screaming, because I "don't know anything"
• And I'm at work on my day off to make up for going on vacation last week
• And I had some caffeine to help me cope with all of the above
• And my office computer is in a state of interminable sluggishness

I hate everyone and everything.

Annonymity

We just got back from a week at Madeline Island. It was glorious. It was near perfect - and would have been if our three year-old son hadn't taken it as an opportunity to boycott sleeping. It was the best thing that Scott and I ever accidentally bought at an auction by bidding against each other when we were drinking. Oops.

But, anyway, one day I had an epiphany. I was getting ready to go out for a day at the pool and beach and looked in the mirror. I realized that I never lost my hair. Under the modest cover of a bathing suit, no scars show. I no longer have puncture wounds from needles and bruises from failed attempts at IV placements. I look healthy.

And as I marveled at this, I thought to myself: "None of these people know that I am a cancer survivor."

Did you read that? I said: "CANCER SURVIVOR!"

It just popped into my brain like it belonged there. And it does. I have made it. I finally feel like a cancer survivor. Go me!

My Body Fails Me

Once upon a time, I took Tae Kwon Do with my dad.

Once upon a time, I earned a gold medal by doing a back kick through three boards at my first competition.

Once upon a time, I beat everyone in the gym in a push-up contest, pumping out 52 in just 60 seconds.

This is not that time. I tried to do some push-ups, in an attempt to bust through the layer of blubber that I have added in the last five months. (P.S. it is neither winter, nor am I a whale. There is no beneficial reason for this insulation.) Anyway, I got in push-up position last week and lowered myself down for the first of, hopefully, at least 20 reps. Wrong. Instead, it felt as though all of the muscles in my chest were ripping apart in an inferno of fiber snapping.

I didn't like it.

So, I guess I won't be doing many push-us in the near future. I won't be running, either, because it sucks. I probably won't be biking, because my tailbone problem has been acting up again. I may have to resort to dieting, which will be hard, because I really like pop tarts ... and lattes ... and brownies ... and pizza ... and margaritas.

Life is so challenging.

Courage, Strength & Victory

My very talented friend, Andrew D. Huber, wrote this song for me. I guess I'm a little biased, but I think it is the greatest song EVER!

Scott, does not share this bias, having never met Andy (and never having a crush on him as a teenager), but he was impressed enough to be pleased that Andy is happily married and living in another state.

I suggest that you get a couple of kleenex before you hit "play."

Thank you to Andy for this incredible gift.

Thank you to Nate for helping me make it into a video.

Than you to Scott for continually being my rock when all I want to do is crumple up and cry.

Thank you to all of you for supporting me in this quiet war.

Sooo...

Apparently I got bit by something.

And it wasn't even a vampire. (But I did go see Eclipse, today. Go, Jacob!)

Anyway, I noticed this strange mark on my arm two days ago. Being the hypochondriac that I am, I called the doctor. I spoke to the nurse and told her that I have a very odd bite on my arm. I described it in detail. I said that it is three inches long and shaped like an "s." When she didn't seem impressed, I told her that I am in a compromised health situation, due to the fact that I am recovering from cancer. She said that she would check with the doctor and call me back.

Two hours later, she called and said the following: "Doctor says it sounds kind of bizarre, but that she isn't worried about it. Just keep an eye on it."

Right.

It's shaped like an "s." It looks like a parasite bit me and is travelling along my vein. No big deal. So, today, I called back and said that I would just feel better if someone looked at it.

Upon seeing my disfigured arm, my doctor uttered the following words: "Woah. I'm glad you came in. That looks like a tick bite. We'd better put you on some antibiotics. It might be Lyme's disease."

Awesome. I could have told you that. In fact, I think I did ... yesterday. Once again, I have taken my medical well being out of the hands of the professionals and taken charge, myself.

"Just wait a few days and keep an eye on it?!" Don't we pay these people a LOT of money?

Ughhh!