Arctic Blast

It's so freaking cold here! But lots of fun. Sledding, live music, good friends...

Preparing for the freeze

The kiddo is very excited about our upcoming trip to Minneapolis. He thinks the snow suits are great for playing ninja, which they are. Hopefully they'll also be great for keeping us alive in 0 degree weather.

Christmas was a blast. With just the tree of us around, we were able to create some new traditions, like dim sum and a movie.

I hope everyone enjoyed their holidays and that you continue to enjoy your winter breaks and such. Let's make this next week the best last week of 2013 ever!

Auto Awesome Indeed

It may not be awesome to go 6 days without blogging (for no good reason), but these gifs are pretty dang awesome! Clearly, I've been far too busy having fun with no time in the world to write a post about how much fun I'm having. WRITE a post? Oh, please. That's so 8 months ago. I'll let Google + SHOW you how much fun I've been having, not blogging. Exclamation mark!

Look at THIS love connection! Siempre Verde with Turkey Sandwich

Fancy dinner at The Van's

Hola! My salad has a cherry on top!

Leopard Class, kicking some vinyl ass.

Brain Bling

I went to the dentist last week for my bi-annual check up. In between lectures about flossing and crown replacement, they took some xrays. One was a panoramic, camera-circles-your-head-for-30-seconds kind of xray, nothing out of the ordinary. Until...later on, the dentist was going over the xray with me, pointing out the fractured post of an old root canal (yikes), and she asked what was up with the "flowery tattoo thing" on the scan up above my sinuses. Check it out (and don't judge me for having so many fillings. I like candy.)! It must be some kind of something that was put there to hold my skull in place after my craniotomy! Unless of course it's some sort of government tracking device so the CIA can read my thoughts. And why wouldn't they? I have some pretty amazing thoughts. They mostly go like this: "mmmmmmmm salty caramel." Either way, it was a surprise to me, to say the least--that whole craniotomy period of time is a bit fuzzy--and I can't stop looking at it. It's hypnotic, but in a good way. It's sort of calming and mantra-y.

Kempo Master

He's not waxing on or painting a fence yet, but he has memorized some crazy amount of positions and combinations and will be eligable to test for a yellow belt in February.

Did you hear my jaw hit the ground just then?

Kid's got skills, that does not surprise me. It's the thought of him being able to focus and pay attention long enough--TO ANYTHING--that blows me away. Our three month experiment seems to have proven successful, as far as I'm concerned. On to more classes! Hooray fir kempo!

Nothing much

I am pooped. I'm exhausted and emotionally running on fumes. I need to think of a good way to refresh myself, other than sleep--which, of course, is what I crave. Sleep and chocolate.

How about you? How do you hit the reset button on your soul? What is your emotional equivalent to a breath of fresh air? Please don't say exercise or vegetables.

Feeling OK

I'm starting to feel better than I have in a few weeks. The dust is settling. I can breathe a bit better, and I'm starting to think about ways to fix things in my life that feel like they aren't functioning properly. Trying to, anyways. I've gotten hooked on a TV show on Netflix called Scandal, and the main character is a fixer, a professional problem solver (but I like her better in this). The other day on the way to work, I thought about a problem I was having--a long distance friendship that had been suffering from neglect--and instead of feeling complainy and sorry for myself, I fixed it. I sent my friend an email to sort of let them know I was still there and making sure they were, too. Maybe not fixed completely, but definitely a step in the right direction.

So I guess what I'm trying to say is things are looking up. Today.

Hurt Feelings

You know who you are.

One more rumination over my status in life

I've got to say, I really appreciate everyone's support over the last few days. My posts have been more raw than usual, and I've shared a side of the pain and fear that I feel, a part of my life that I'm usually trying to camouflage. Snark and perceived fearlessness will only get you so far; sometimes, you just need to cry and scream and hit things and write mean and ugly words on a blog for everyone to read. And honestly, the candid nature of these last few posts has felt REALLY  REALLY GOOD.

Of course, I wouldn't be me without also feeling guilty. Here, I'll use a list to count some of the wonderful and factual things that I have in my life that so many other people do not have, therefore causing me to feel guilty about having any complaints at all.

Some of the Wonderful and Factual Things That I Have in My Life that So Many Other People Do Not Have

1. Two healthy, living, nearby parents.

2. A healthy and committed marriage.

3. A healthy and perfect six year old son.

4. Full and complete use of my arms, legs, mouth, and brain-- a variety of things that most GBM survivors I know do not have.

5. A great job that I love and look forward to every day.

6. A warm home and plentiful pets.

I worry that the kind of person who can have this list and still complain about anything in their life is fundamentally broken, and, frankly, reprehensible. I know it's who I am; it's part of my personality and character to feel bad about feeling bad, but I do get nervous that I'll never inherently allow myself to enjoy the bounty that is my life, and that I'm doomed to always gravitate back to the cancer, every four months, as the primary definition of who I've become, in spite of the list of wonders above.

Now, I promise to do my best to return to our regular programing--although it's immeasurably comforting to know I can be as honest I might need to occasionally be here.

Sitting at UCSF

After every MRI, I meet with two sets of Neuro-oncologists, one at Stanford where I receive my standard ontological care and one at UCSF where I participated in a few trials during my treatment. Today I am at UCSF, finishing up my week of cancer check-ins. Hopefully, this will serve as some sort of mental closure to this particularly gruesome (emotionally speaking) MRI cycle. You win some, you loose some, and while I've physiologically won the grand bonus prize with another clean MRI, my emotional score this quarter was far below par and not what many of expect of me.

I appreciate the kind and thoughtful comments, the hugs from those I see and the stress relieving help that I get from my family. I have a caring and compassionate husband who tries his hardest, and an abundance of positive energy running toward me in the form of a six year old boy. I have all of this, and then some. And sometimes, it's just not enough. Sometimes, in spite if all the goodness that surrounds me, I feel encased in sadness, loss and gloom.

Please don't be afraid for me. Don't worry or feel that you need to be on eggshells around me. The way I feel right now is a natural part of a life-long grieving process that I have come to accept as a part of my life. The MRIs, the anxiety and emotional response serve as a reminder of how my life has changed. Forever. And there's absolutely nothing that I can do about it. I am thankful for my health and continued stability, but I am simultaneously enraged that something like brain cancer came along and changed my life irrevocably, without any sort or warning or negotiation or compensation. I'm not blind, I'm not stupid--I know I am doing incredibly well, much, much better than most people with Glioblastoma Multiforme IV. And I am grateful for that truth. But I am perfectly within my rights to feel robbed of the full, plump, shining life of NORMALCY that I had until September 2009.

So don't freak out when I write posts like this. It's part of my process and it will help me in the long run.

Last MRI of 2013

My neuro oncologist is starting to sound like a broken record. "Your scan looks great. No change or tumor regrowth. We expect you to live a long life. See you in four months."

You may now commence with the appropriate post-MRI celebrations. It takes me a while to shake off the pre-MRI anxiety, and it takes me even longer to figure out how to be happy about those words. "We expect you to live a long life." A long life is good, but a long life of regularly scheduled anxiety and unexpected bouts of depression is hard to take sometimes. And it turns out that I am totally one to look a gift horse right in the mouth. This gift I've been given, this gift of not succumbing to the brain cancer, of not dying in the 18-24 months that is statistically more likely than living even the four years that I have since my diagnosis, this gift is sometimes a horse with very bad teeth, one that needs a Costco size tube of Crest toothpaste and a dentist with a magic wand in the form of a giant, never-ending bottle of Ativan.

It's not that I'm not thankful for what I have. I really, truly am. Sometimes, it is so hard to see past the glaring absence of the parts of my life that will always be missing--things like piece of mind and normalcy. Yes, I get to keep my life and I get to keep on living it, but it's broken. I'm broken. And I don't know how to fix myself right now.

I wish I could celebrate with you today. I wish I could simply say to myself, well that was nice. Everything is exactly how it should be. But I feel scattered and lost and afraid and confused today, and all of those things put together add up to angry and sad. 

Still here, silently judging

Don't mistake my silence this past week for a lack of blog fodder. I have plenty to say, I'm just trying extremely hard to push out the jive and bring in the love. It's tough these days, my heart is so dang full of jive. I'm not going to get into it, but here's a top five list of the few things saving me from giving into my rage and anger right now.

Top Five List of Things Saving Me From Giving In To My Rage and Anger Right Now

1. Selective over-played hit songs on the radio.

2. The zero percent existence of dog pee on my carpet. More on that later.

3. My six year old son in a blazer and tie. Every chance he gets.

4. Waiting for results that will come on Wednesday from my Sunday morning MRI.

5. Before bedtime, the kiddo suggested we "initiate cuddle sequence."

Thanks A Lot

Top Five Things I Am Thankful For

1. My brother is taking the kiddo to Children's Faryland tomorrow.

2. There's a four-day weekend just around the bend.

3. Costco pumpkin pie.

4. A big, comfy bed with a warm, soft duvet.

5. Spotify. When it works.

Know When to Fold 'Em

Know when to walk away. Know when to run.

It's one thing to know WHEN, it's another thing to know HOW. Letting go--of anger, a grudge, regret, whatever--is a skill I do not have. I've never had it, and I doubt that I ever will. There are many things in my life that I have every right to be angry about, or to be sad about, or to hold a grudge against, and I perform that job expertly. Now if someone could just send me the Cliff Notes on letting go and doing the right thing even when you really really really don't want to...that would be very helpful.

Some say that mindfulness meditation will teach me how to let go of all of the shit that's gunking up my emotional pipes. Other say a cleanse of the body works as a cleanse of the soul. There are those that would suggest that I drown my anger and sadness in liquor. They are probably all partially right.

I know that right now is one of those time where I need to lay my cards face down on the table, stand up, and haul ass out of there. Guess I better go put my running shoes on.

Zombie is the New Black

The kiddo has moved on from the youthful simplicity of tablet games like Angry Birds and Where's My Water, and left me way behind in the technological dust. Plants vs. Zombies is the game du jour and I am lost, lost, lost. Luckily, Max seems to get the basic strategy and appears to have schooled my boy in the ways of pea shooters and walnuts, so at least he can play on his own. But this is one obsessive habit that I will have to pass on. From what I can tell (not much), you need to defend your home from the constantly attacking cartoon zombies by using a variety of vegetables and plants with various levels of zombie-killing skills. And there's something about sunflowers. All I know is that the kid gets pretty frustrated when he wants me to play with him and I clearly don't get it.

Me: "Why don't you use that guy? He looks like he could stop a zombie invasion."

Him: "Seriously Mommy? You hafta put the freeze pods down first. The zombies will just eat those."

Me: "Put more sunflowers. They have smiley faces."

Him: (eyes rolling) "Jeeze Mommy, I already have five of those and that's more than enough. I need more shooters."

Me: "..."

Him: "Are you even going to play?"

Me: "..."

Him: "Isn't this the coolest game ever?"

Now I know how my mom felt when I would get so pissed at her if she got the name of my My Little Pony wrong. "No, THAT is Starburst! THIS is Moonstone! Seriously!"

Ant Rant

Pretty much all of my allotted blogging time for this evening has been usurped by ants. In the time it took me to spray the line of tiny horribleness with Raid, clean the cat food/water area they had invaded, clean up the Raid, replenish the cat fixins, and then repeat the whole process because it turns out they were coming in from two places, I could have written a very nice blog post. Hell, I could have written a weeks worth of very nice blog posts. But instead you get an angry and tired blog post, and with that, I bid you goodnight.

Better than a Butterball

This time of year--well, most times of year--when people think turkey, they think roasted, basted, and filled with stuffing.

Some people, the ones with excellent taste in food, think thinly sliced, peppered or honey roasted, layered on a dutch crunch roll with plenty of mayo.

I also think of Turkey Sandwich, but mine doesn't have mayo on it (usually), because mine is a 55 pound shepherd mix who likes to put her whole head in my hand and loves to give kisses.

Turkey Sandwich is an amazing friend and wonderful member of our family, and I am extremely thankful that she is my dog.

And someday, I hope she learns to drop the damn ball so I can throw it again.

Birthday Waffle: The Secret Ingredient is Tears

An outtake reel from the kiddo's birthday breakfast, in which he was shot by one of his parents with the Nerf gun he had just received as his gift. Which parent would do such a thing? Does it really matter? I wouldn't dream of being petty or putting the blame on just one parent--Max and I, we parent as a TEAM.

But it wasn't me.

Initial impact.

Oh, the agony!

The face of sad.

Grey Clouds Rolling Over the Hills

Can't get this song out. Of. My. Head.

And now you can't, either.

I'm unsure about whether it makes me feel sad or hopeful. I guess it makes me feel soapful.

Hunka Hunka Burnin' Love

I've had some cats in my time, but these girls take the cake. Elvis the Girl (aka Fat Elvis, aka The Chunker) is the first cat I've ever had who shows her belly--WILLINGLY--and not with the intent to attack your arm and slice open the fleshy part, either (I'm looking at you, Milhouse). She just wants to roll and purr and get some belly rubbins. She is rad.