Well today, for the third time, I saw someone completely bash someone on their blog because
they did not agree with an OPINION they had. I can't tell you how much this frosts me. Then again....maybe I can. I don't know how many people read my blog. I have actually not given the site address to more than a few people I know. To me, this is my place to vent. Though I try not to offend, the truth is that
if I do, anyone has the option NOT to read my spoutings. It is cathartic to me to get my beefs down and then send them into oblivion. I know that I sound like a major whiner at times(especially in 2008, it was a tough year), but before people bash someone on their own blog,
I wish they would stop to think that this is THEIR forum. This is where they get the microphone and get to heave things off their chest. It's a form of therapy. If you'd like to throw an "AMEN" at them or a supportive comment, TERRIFIC and if these meanies and nay-sayers would like to set up their own
blog and spew their baggage into the WWW, have at it but to sucker punch someone on their own blog is inexcusable. In the one case, a young woman who is fighting for her every breath
after a MUD transplant for Hodgkins that ruined her lungs was blasted by a woman when this gal wrote about her
disappointment that her new husband bailed as soon as she took ill. Horrible. In another case,
a man totally took the wind out of another guy's sails by insulting him and then making an uneducated and negative prediction about his medical status. Today's was the last straw. I stumbled onto a blog some time ago of a family in New England whose son is fighting neuroblastoma. Their beautiful son is just 5 and has endured over 50 rounds of chemo since his dx at 7 months old. He has been deemed incurable and this man is frustrated by a lot of the same things the MM community faces too. Tryng to get access to experimental treatments and the whole clinical trial
and FDA approval processes that keep lifesaving drugs from those who need them and sometimes have no other options is a heart wrenching thing when your kid's life hangs in the balance. Someone blasted this man on his own blog about an opinion he stated concerning government monies spent on another illness. He did not begrudge funding for this illness, he just wished that a small amount of the money spent on one of the the less important aspects(nothing to do with treatment or research) could go to saving innocent little kids like his. I should elaborate that the majority of the people who have this illness, got it by taking the risk to expose themselves to it AND this blogger made it abundantly clear that he was not passing judgement on those who got it through no fault of their own. I'm not surprised that the coward that wrote this awful comment on their blog keeps an anonymous profile. I wanted to comment right there on that blog but felt I would be bringing too much of my own opinions so I'm venting here once again. I must say here and now that I feel the ONLY thing that gives any person the right to have their OWN opinion is having R-E-S-P-E-C-T for the opinions of others. Here's the beauty of living in a free country. YOU DON'T HAVE TO AGREE with anyone. BUT YOU SHOULD have the grace to respect their rights to their own opinions and mindsets. I cannot believe the heartlessness of some of these comments I read. Truly venomous. While the internet can be an
amazing resource, it does also give a venue to a lot of mean and bad people out there. There is never a justification for kicking someone when they're already down. Luckily, I have some lovely people reading my blog. But if any meany comes along on here and sucker punches me, I just may have to
hunt their raggedy ass down. They don't call me "nasty niecer" for nothing! Sorry for the seriousness here folks. Unfortunately, it ain't all fun and games in "cancerland."
Thursday, October 22, 2009
Friday, October 16, 2009
The sex talk(T-M-I about TIM)
Tim had his transplant in Sept. of 07. In addition to one of the weirdest sex questionaires I'd ever heard re: have you ever had sex with an animal or a person from the Ukraine or a person from the Ukraine who has had sex with an animal. YIKES, I don't want to know what amoeba it is these people from the Ukraine are carrying. Anyway, we had to take a several hour long caregiver course before he went in that was given by one of
the many candidates for the "nurses of HUMC pin-up calendar." Then, when we checked in, we
were given instructions again in a huge printed booklet. On the first page, it said at
the bottom in bold capital letters ABSOLUTELY NO SEXUAL RELATIONS. I knew about this,
as did Tim I believe, and honestly, I did not think it would be an issue with the nausea and all.
Well my hubby must be the only man who could take that bottle of napalm, be nauseous and weak, and still follow me around the condo looking for some action. I guess having time to kill and no kid around to worry about were the main reasons. I held out though(not my normal M.O.) while he told me many times, in words I won't report here, what he thought of
this Nooky ban. Actually, I'm not that strong. I purposely made sure we had no birth control method on hand and that's the whole reason I could hold out. Tim persisted and said, "do you actually think any of my swimmers survived that chemo?!" Now that's a line you don't hear everyday. Poor Tim, his "fellas" were flaming red one day from thrush and blue the next. ;o) On Tim's last day in transplant, I tried to think of how I could ask the transplant doc privately when we were allowed to end this ban. You see, every day from about 8 or 9 in the morning till about 5 at night, we were in a "transplant day room" at the cancer center. Tim would be in a lounge chair
and me in a chair by him and there was nothing separating us from the nurses' desk or the other transplant patients , who we had become friendly with in this time and still are, but a curtain that would be pulled around when the docs or nurses were doing something with him. So the time comes and Doc R. comes in for the final check to discharge Tim. He is a slightly built, soft spoken, kind man but has a quick wit. So I POINT to the sentence on the printout and ask him when this is lifted.
I'm thinking GENIUS right?! I pointed, he's just gonna give us the day. Mission accomplished! Well he immediately breaks into a broad grin and says "let me explain." OH CRAP. So he starts to explain why it is banned. I'm thinking, I know exactly why it is banned, I didn't ask that. Just give me the day doc! Now I'm trying to figure out how to interrupt this without being rude.
So as he is talking about how low Tim's platelets are, he says, "there is a certain amount of trauma involved in that activity." So seeing my chance I say, "Doc, we've been together 22 years,
there ain't no trauma going on at this point." Then, Mr. macho TIM says to him, "Doc it's been awhile, trust me, there's gonna be some trauma." Damn. Now by this time, we are laughing. I know that our new friends are hearing this. I could smack Tim for ruining my kibash on this AND "awhile" GIVE ME A BREAK. It's only been this 2 weeks we've been in here for Pete's sake. JEEZ! Now after Tim's statement, I'm thinking, "heck maybe they oughta check my damn platelets. I may be in trouble here." So finally the doc ends by saying,
"So, my answer to that question is this. If it's with your wife, then you have to wait until you have 50,000
platelets. If it's with someone other than your wife, I'm sorry but my answer is NEVER."
By this time, the three of us are laughing and I'm thinking our transplant buds must all be suppressing laughter. So much for
this private conversation. This doctor really is the greatest guy though(extra points from the wife for that last statement) and I guess we could all use a laugh anyway. It was a memorable way to end Tim's transplant no doubt. The P.S. to this is that, a few days later, we went back for
the follow-up check-up and to have his hickman removed. Unfortunately, due to a snafu with Tim's stem cells that we did not hear about till 4 months later, Tim's blood counts were not coming up as they should have. The vascular surgeon pulled his hickman anyway despite his cbc only showing 36,000 platelets on board. On the way home, he bled right through the huge packing and his clothes. I had to call the surgeon and go home and stop the bleeding myself and re-dress the wound. If it did not stop, she said we'd have to go back for a platelet infusion. I was ticked. They never should have pulled this thing out that day so I said, to heck with this nooky-ban. If they can pull a catheter out of 2 main arteries with 36K platelets, we
can certainly do the "wild thing" platelets be damned. Game on!
the many candidates for the "nurses of HUMC pin-up calendar." Then, when we checked in, we
were given instructions again in a huge printed booklet. On the first page, it said at
the bottom in bold capital letters ABSOLUTELY NO SEXUAL RELATIONS. I knew about this,
as did Tim I believe, and honestly, I did not think it would be an issue with the nausea and all.
Well my hubby must be the only man who could take that bottle of napalm, be nauseous and weak, and still follow me around the condo looking for some action. I guess having time to kill and no kid around to worry about were the main reasons. I held out though(not my normal M.O.) while he told me many times, in words I won't report here, what he thought of
this Nooky ban. Actually, I'm not that strong. I purposely made sure we had no birth control method on hand and that's the whole reason I could hold out. Tim persisted and said, "do you actually think any of my swimmers survived that chemo?!" Now that's a line you don't hear everyday. Poor Tim, his "fellas" were flaming red one day from thrush and blue the next. ;o) On Tim's last day in transplant, I tried to think of how I could ask the transplant doc privately when we were allowed to end this ban. You see, every day from about 8 or 9 in the morning till about 5 at night, we were in a "transplant day room" at the cancer center. Tim would be in a lounge chair
and me in a chair by him and there was nothing separating us from the nurses' desk or the other transplant patients , who we had become friendly with in this time and still are, but a curtain that would be pulled around when the docs or nurses were doing something with him. So the time comes and Doc R. comes in for the final check to discharge Tim. He is a slightly built, soft spoken, kind man but has a quick wit. So I POINT to the sentence on the printout and ask him when this is lifted.
I'm thinking GENIUS right?! I pointed, he's just gonna give us the day. Mission accomplished! Well he immediately breaks into a broad grin and says "let me explain." OH CRAP. So he starts to explain why it is banned. I'm thinking, I know exactly why it is banned, I didn't ask that. Just give me the day doc! Now I'm trying to figure out how to interrupt this without being rude.
So as he is talking about how low Tim's platelets are, he says, "there is a certain amount of trauma involved in that activity." So seeing my chance I say, "Doc, we've been together 22 years,
there ain't no trauma going on at this point." Then, Mr. macho TIM says to him, "Doc it's been awhile, trust me, there's gonna be some trauma." Damn. Now by this time, we are laughing. I know that our new friends are hearing this. I could smack Tim for ruining my kibash on this AND "awhile" GIVE ME A BREAK. It's only been this 2 weeks we've been in here for Pete's sake. JEEZ! Now after Tim's statement, I'm thinking, "heck maybe they oughta check my damn platelets. I may be in trouble here." So finally the doc ends by saying,
"So, my answer to that question is this. If it's with your wife, then you have to wait until you have 50,000
platelets. If it's with someone other than your wife, I'm sorry but my answer is NEVER."
By this time, the three of us are laughing and I'm thinking our transplant buds must all be suppressing laughter. So much for
this private conversation. This doctor really is the greatest guy though(extra points from the wife for that last statement) and I guess we could all use a laugh anyway. It was a memorable way to end Tim's transplant no doubt. The P.S. to this is that, a few days later, we went back for
the follow-up check-up and to have his hickman removed. Unfortunately, due to a snafu with Tim's stem cells that we did not hear about till 4 months later, Tim's blood counts were not coming up as they should have. The vascular surgeon pulled his hickman anyway despite his cbc only showing 36,000 platelets on board. On the way home, he bled right through the huge packing and his clothes. I had to call the surgeon and go home and stop the bleeding myself and re-dress the wound. If it did not stop, she said we'd have to go back for a platelet infusion. I was ticked. They never should have pulled this thing out that day so I said, to heck with this nooky-ban. If they can pull a catheter out of 2 main arteries with 36K platelets, we
can certainly do the "wild thing" platelets be damned. Game on!
Monday, October 5, 2009
A funny thing happened on the way to the cancer center
I have heard some hysterical stories on blogs I follow that happened during treatment or
transplants for MM. I just started following a blog of a young guy who is starting treatment
and his wife posted a shot of him in his hanes showing his BMB site and jokingly he said maybe he would attract more blog followers posting pix of his butt. It's a fair bet. I've seen the picture.
It got me to thinking (and commenting on his blog) about the ICU nurse who came up to tell me my husband had a cute ass after his first BMB. My husband has gotten more than his share of TLC due to being young and pretty darn cute as I'm sure this guy will too. But back to the funny stories, here's a throwdown for any of y'all who read this blog to share your funniest or most embaressing story. I know MM is serious business but these light moments I read about courtesy of my fellow MM caregivers or patients always bring a much needed guffaw out of me.
So the first one that pops into my mind happened during Tim's transplant. I have said before that the transplant dept. at HUMC is loaded with some of the hottest nurses. I'd like to meet the man that does the hiring there. I mean, give a worn out wife a break with this will ya. I actually told an older gent at a support group meeting once who was on the fence about doing a transplant to go meet the nurses there and he'll be off the fence and signing up in a heartbeat. Luckily, the nurses were all really nice too, even the one with the breathy, squeaky, happy birthday Mr. President Marilyn voice(even if her voice did raise the hairs on the back of my neck.) Tim, being the youngest, buffest patient in the transplant
day room those weeks, got lots of attention. He seemed to be surrounded by these gals everytime I got back from visiting our daughter. So to explain this event, I'll have to tread lightly lest I make y'all think I'm brash or lacking in class. Tim acquired an affliction that I believe was caused by the strong antibacterial soap they made him shower with daily. I believe it was a thrush type reaction and it hit him in his private region. In layman's terms, he had "GREAT BALLS OF FIRE." So much for treading lightly. :o) I reported this to his nurse after he spent the whole night in pain and VERY irritated. She reported it, by phone, to the woman doctor who was doing rounds that day. The doctor tells the nurse to inspect aforementioned B's-O-F before she will prescribe something. Now, just to prove to me that there is a God, Tim's nurse that day was a very nice but "not stripper material by a long shot" woman that I liked immensely. I felt so sorry for her. She turned beet red and broke into an absolute flop sweat. As for Tim, he was not bothered by this at all. I couldn't figure out if this should have worried me or not. If I was told I had to flash some male nurse so he could inspect my hoo hah, I think I would be the one in a flop sweat. I am
not a man though and as far as I know, Tim had not had a new audience for that area in 22 years. To make matters worse, to save an unnecessary walk to the john all hooked up to an IV pole, she told Tim to just wait until he had to pee next so we all had a good long time to think about this which was most upsetting for this blushing nurse. When she and Tim finally went off to the bathroom together, I jokingly said to them, "if you're not out in 5 minutes, I'm coming in after ya." Someone pointed out later that a lot can happen in 5 minutes. Good point. Well we finally got the nystatin powder. Problem was Tim was not allowed to go near anything like that as he could have a problem if he breathed it into his lungs. He had to mask up and I got to do the
honors when we got back to the condo that night. He said, "sorry." I said, "are you kidding, if I didn't know I was gonna get to give you showers and see you naked all the time, I wouldn't have signed up for this transplant caregiver stuff. These are the PERKS." I'm not sure if this reads all that funny but it was pretty darn hysterical for us. Stay tuned for the "when do we get to have
sex?" talk we had with Tim's transplant doctor on discharge day. Maybe I am brash. ;o) If you are going for a transplant, I will tell you what they tell all women about to give birth. Check your modesty at the door.
transplants for MM. I just started following a blog of a young guy who is starting treatment
and his wife posted a shot of him in his hanes showing his BMB site and jokingly he said maybe he would attract more blog followers posting pix of his butt. It's a fair bet. I've seen the picture.
It got me to thinking (and commenting on his blog) about the ICU nurse who came up to tell me my husband had a cute ass after his first BMB. My husband has gotten more than his share of TLC due to being young and pretty darn cute as I'm sure this guy will too. But back to the funny stories, here's a throwdown for any of y'all who read this blog to share your funniest or most embaressing story. I know MM is serious business but these light moments I read about courtesy of my fellow MM caregivers or patients always bring a much needed guffaw out of me.
So the first one that pops into my mind happened during Tim's transplant. I have said before that the transplant dept. at HUMC is loaded with some of the hottest nurses. I'd like to meet the man that does the hiring there. I mean, give a worn out wife a break with this will ya. I actually told an older gent at a support group meeting once who was on the fence about doing a transplant to go meet the nurses there and he'll be off the fence and signing up in a heartbeat. Luckily, the nurses were all really nice too, even the one with the breathy, squeaky, happy birthday Mr. President Marilyn voice(even if her voice did raise the hairs on the back of my neck.) Tim, being the youngest, buffest patient in the transplant
day room those weeks, got lots of attention. He seemed to be surrounded by these gals everytime I got back from visiting our daughter. So to explain this event, I'll have to tread lightly lest I make y'all think I'm brash or lacking in class. Tim acquired an affliction that I believe was caused by the strong antibacterial soap they made him shower with daily. I believe it was a thrush type reaction and it hit him in his private region. In layman's terms, he had "GREAT BALLS OF FIRE." So much for treading lightly. :o) I reported this to his nurse after he spent the whole night in pain and VERY irritated. She reported it, by phone, to the woman doctor who was doing rounds that day. The doctor tells the nurse to inspect aforementioned B's-O-F before she will prescribe something. Now, just to prove to me that there is a God, Tim's nurse that day was a very nice but "not stripper material by a long shot" woman that I liked immensely. I felt so sorry for her. She turned beet red and broke into an absolute flop sweat. As for Tim, he was not bothered by this at all. I couldn't figure out if this should have worried me or not. If I was told I had to flash some male nurse so he could inspect my hoo hah, I think I would be the one in a flop sweat. I am
not a man though and as far as I know, Tim had not had a new audience for that area in 22 years. To make matters worse, to save an unnecessary walk to the john all hooked up to an IV pole, she told Tim to just wait until he had to pee next so we all had a good long time to think about this which was most upsetting for this blushing nurse. When she and Tim finally went off to the bathroom together, I jokingly said to them, "if you're not out in 5 minutes, I'm coming in after ya." Someone pointed out later that a lot can happen in 5 minutes. Good point. Well we finally got the nystatin powder. Problem was Tim was not allowed to go near anything like that as he could have a problem if he breathed it into his lungs. He had to mask up and I got to do the
honors when we got back to the condo that night. He said, "sorry." I said, "are you kidding, if I didn't know I was gonna get to give you showers and see you naked all the time, I wouldn't have signed up for this transplant caregiver stuff. These are the PERKS." I'm not sure if this reads all that funny but it was pretty darn hysterical for us. Stay tuned for the "when do we get to have
sex?" talk we had with Tim's transplant doctor on discharge day. Maybe I am brash. ;o) If you are going for a transplant, I will tell you what they tell all women about to give birth. Check your modesty at the door.
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
navigating life's highways
On Sunday, we went up into New York state to celebrate my niece's 7th birthday. My parents
were sick so Tim and I offered to pick up my niece's gifts and bring them to the party. It added
45 minutes to our trip but if we didn't, my mom intended to drive to our house and back to drop
them off. I normally take back roads to my parents' house but to save time(not really) and try to
get Olivia from point A to B to C without carsickness and medication that makes her grouchy, I
took the highways. NOT a good call. It was raining and there was some crazy phenomenon going
on on route 80. I always drive slower in the rain especially after hydroplaning in Vermont one time driving my husband's old monster-tired bronco. TRES scary. So I am driving down route 80 and we see an empty SUV that was resting along the curb backwards. Then we see cops at 2 sites. One of which I was not sure of the reason but the other was another accident. Then we see yet another car on the side of the road. I started to tell Tim and Olivia of the time 20 plus years ago when I saw a kid in a small car come onto a highway and quickly cut across 3 lanes of traffic right in front of me only to hit an oil spot or something and he spun around and wound up facing the wrong way in the fast lane of another crazy highway near the one I was on. I'll never forget the look on his face. Just as I finish this story, the SUV 2 spots ahead of me begins to fishtail. He loses control and starts spinning all over the highway. At one point, he almost flipped over and he just missed hitting the curb 2 lanes from where he started. He got back going straight and by this time, I knew there was something wrong with this road. I backed
off the gas even more and started white knuckling it. As I passed the truck that did this, I saw that the man driving was stunned and the woman in the passenger seat was holding her head in her hands obviously quite upset. Just a few seconds later, a large car behind me spun out and started going across lanes of traffic circling as he went and crashed into the curb or guardrail on the shoulder of the road. OK, now this is insane. If it had not been my niece's b-day, Olivia wanted us to take her to a nascar race in Delaware and here we were feeling like we were driving in one ourselves with cars spinning out left and right. I pulled into the slow lane and backed it down even further. I prayed to make it to the exit and wondered if this could be oil rising up with this rain or what. Years ago I was told by a southern California guy that when it rains, their
roads turn to oil slicks because of the build up that results from so little rain and he said accidents are very common. That was the only way I could explain what we saw this day. It was scary. We got to my mom's safely and Tim took over driving to my sister's with me watching the
speedometer and yelling if he went too fast. I wondered if we would hear about this on the news and sure enough, it made the paper yesterday. There was a total of 43 accidents on that stretch of road but they blamed it on speeding drivers in the rain. Not true. I don't know why we made it through unscathed. I thought back a few years when I got new tires for the mommy van. I told the guy, "I don't want the cheepest tires you have for this vehicle. I want the ones you would put on it if it were your wife's car." Tim was with me and said "Wait a minute, you don't know how much he likes his wife." I said, "OK then give me the tires you would put on your own car." I think it's crazy to save money on tires. I told the guy that I wanted the best rain handling tires he had for my car. Maybe that was why this didn't happen to us on Sunday. I thought too of all the little things in life that change it's course so drastically, like timing. The two cars that had just spun out right near me somehow did it when there were not cars in the lanes that they spun across. We ourselves should not have even been on this road were it not for Tim saying we would do this favor. We tread a thin line all of our lives between life and death, good times or
catastrophe. I knew as I drove down that highway that we could easily be next and it might not end as well as the 2 I'd just witnessed. I also felt a little bit like I have felt about Tim's remission and his MM battle. I know several people who have relapsed and others, that I know from blogs or the acor list, who have died. For the last 16 months we have been just white knuckling it and trying to stay straight and in control while all around us others are spinning out and losing their sense of control. You don't know why things happen as they do but you are painfully aware of your vulnerability in this process. Life is so random. It changes in the blink of an eye. Everytime you get in your car, a zillion stars align that either get you to your destination in one piece or not. Every second is another chance for the path of your life to change
course dramatically. We are all faced with the same exact risks. I applaud those people who can
live their life without ruining it with the "what if " disease that I have had for years. Being a worry wart may have saved my ass a few times but it's also ruined my chance at real enjoyment at others. I know that I will be staying the heck off route 80 for awhile. Why push it? I sent a thankyou heavenbound when we made it to our destination and hoped that everyone else on route 80 that day at least stayed in one piece. Man, life is risky. I heard a quote one time that said something to the effect of, "you can't be so afraid of dying that you don't start living." I guess it's another one of life's "fine lines." I guess somewhere there is the perfect balance between care-free and careful. I haven't found it so I keep praying, being grateful and worrying,
not exactly in that order.
were sick so Tim and I offered to pick up my niece's gifts and bring them to the party. It added
45 minutes to our trip but if we didn't, my mom intended to drive to our house and back to drop
them off. I normally take back roads to my parents' house but to save time(not really) and try to
get Olivia from point A to B to C without carsickness and medication that makes her grouchy, I
took the highways. NOT a good call. It was raining and there was some crazy phenomenon going
on on route 80. I always drive slower in the rain especially after hydroplaning in Vermont one time driving my husband's old monster-tired bronco. TRES scary. So I am driving down route 80 and we see an empty SUV that was resting along the curb backwards. Then we see cops at 2 sites. One of which I was not sure of the reason but the other was another accident. Then we see yet another car on the side of the road. I started to tell Tim and Olivia of the time 20 plus years ago when I saw a kid in a small car come onto a highway and quickly cut across 3 lanes of traffic right in front of me only to hit an oil spot or something and he spun around and wound up facing the wrong way in the fast lane of another crazy highway near the one I was on. I'll never forget the look on his face. Just as I finish this story, the SUV 2 spots ahead of me begins to fishtail. He loses control and starts spinning all over the highway. At one point, he almost flipped over and he just missed hitting the curb 2 lanes from where he started. He got back going straight and by this time, I knew there was something wrong with this road. I backed
off the gas even more and started white knuckling it. As I passed the truck that did this, I saw that the man driving was stunned and the woman in the passenger seat was holding her head in her hands obviously quite upset. Just a few seconds later, a large car behind me spun out and started going across lanes of traffic circling as he went and crashed into the curb or guardrail on the shoulder of the road. OK, now this is insane. If it had not been my niece's b-day, Olivia wanted us to take her to a nascar race in Delaware and here we were feeling like we were driving in one ourselves with cars spinning out left and right. I pulled into the slow lane and backed it down even further. I prayed to make it to the exit and wondered if this could be oil rising up with this rain or what. Years ago I was told by a southern California guy that when it rains, their
roads turn to oil slicks because of the build up that results from so little rain and he said accidents are very common. That was the only way I could explain what we saw this day. It was scary. We got to my mom's safely and Tim took over driving to my sister's with me watching the
speedometer and yelling if he went too fast. I wondered if we would hear about this on the news and sure enough, it made the paper yesterday. There was a total of 43 accidents on that stretch of road but they blamed it on speeding drivers in the rain. Not true. I don't know why we made it through unscathed. I thought back a few years when I got new tires for the mommy van. I told the guy, "I don't want the cheepest tires you have for this vehicle. I want the ones you would put on it if it were your wife's car." Tim was with me and said "Wait a minute, you don't know how much he likes his wife." I said, "OK then give me the tires you would put on your own car." I think it's crazy to save money on tires. I told the guy that I wanted the best rain handling tires he had for my car. Maybe that was why this didn't happen to us on Sunday. I thought too of all the little things in life that change it's course so drastically, like timing. The two cars that had just spun out right near me somehow did it when there were not cars in the lanes that they spun across. We ourselves should not have even been on this road were it not for Tim saying we would do this favor. We tread a thin line all of our lives between life and death, good times or
catastrophe. I knew as I drove down that highway that we could easily be next and it might not end as well as the 2 I'd just witnessed. I also felt a little bit like I have felt about Tim's remission and his MM battle. I know several people who have relapsed and others, that I know from blogs or the acor list, who have died. For the last 16 months we have been just white knuckling it and trying to stay straight and in control while all around us others are spinning out and losing their sense of control. You don't know why things happen as they do but you are painfully aware of your vulnerability in this process. Life is so random. It changes in the blink of an eye. Everytime you get in your car, a zillion stars align that either get you to your destination in one piece or not. Every second is another chance for the path of your life to change
course dramatically. We are all faced with the same exact risks. I applaud those people who can
live their life without ruining it with the "what if " disease that I have had for years. Being a worry wart may have saved my ass a few times but it's also ruined my chance at real enjoyment at others. I know that I will be staying the heck off route 80 for awhile. Why push it? I sent a thankyou heavenbound when we made it to our destination and hoped that everyone else on route 80 that day at least stayed in one piece. Man, life is risky. I heard a quote one time that said something to the effect of, "you can't be so afraid of dying that you don't start living." I guess it's another one of life's "fine lines." I guess somewhere there is the perfect balance between care-free and careful. I haven't found it so I keep praying, being grateful and worrying,
not exactly in that order.
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
I don't get it!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I was coming home from dropping Olivia off at school today and I hear on the radio that the Ukraine is not going to allow Elton John and his partner to adopt a 14 month old orphan with
HIV. The reasons are that you cannot be more than 45 years older than the child(I read just now on the web that Elton is 62 but his partner is 46) but the REAL reason is that they refuse to recognize that gays are married and you must be married to adopt(translated, you can't be gay). I just can't get my brain around some of these adoption rules. I think all adoptions should be looked at on a case by case basis. You have to think of the alternative for this poor kid.
I mean, what rocket scientist thinks that he is better off in an orphanage instead of
with 2 men in a LONG term devoted relationship? And I hate to bring money into it but this child does have a serious illness. The Ukraine folks admit they have a hard time getting people to adopt their sick orphans and lets face it, Elton has more money than he knows what to do with
and could get this kid the best medical care in the world as well as opportunities that he couldn't even dream of. I saw a TV program not long ago that showed the unimaginable mental problems that a lot of the adopted kids from this area have due to conditions
in orphanages. They have "failure to bond" issues and things I've never heard of. In many cases,
the families that adopted them have had to give the kids back. They cannot cope or the adopted kid is trying to kill their other child. One family on this program did not give the girl back but this angry, violent child has ruined their quality of life completely and they've spent enormous amounts of money trying to get help for her. The longer they spend in orphanages, the greater the chance that they will not develop normally and be plagued with problems probably for life.
There are many loving homes out there. They may be gay couples, they may be single but I sure think if they have the dedication, desire, and the financial ability, it sure beats having a child stuck in the system. We have a lot of gay couples in our neighborhood. They are all really nice and fit in wonderfully around here. To be honest, there a few straight couples that we all wouldn't mind seeing "for sale" signs on their lawns. Being gay does not stop you from being a loving parent. Hell, if Elton wants to adopt me, where do I sign. I know ALL his songs even every word to Captain Fantastic and the Brown Dirt Cowboy. I don't understand what the darn song means
but I KNOW the words. Can I have my own horse? PLLLLEEEEAAAASSSSEEEEEE!
HIV. The reasons are that you cannot be more than 45 years older than the child(I read just now on the web that Elton is 62 but his partner is 46) but the REAL reason is that they refuse to recognize that gays are married and you must be married to adopt(translated, you can't be gay). I just can't get my brain around some of these adoption rules. I think all adoptions should be looked at on a case by case basis. You have to think of the alternative for this poor kid.
I mean, what rocket scientist thinks that he is better off in an orphanage instead of
with 2 men in a LONG term devoted relationship? And I hate to bring money into it but this child does have a serious illness. The Ukraine folks admit they have a hard time getting people to adopt their sick orphans and lets face it, Elton has more money than he knows what to do with
and could get this kid the best medical care in the world as well as opportunities that he couldn't even dream of. I saw a TV program not long ago that showed the unimaginable mental problems that a lot of the adopted kids from this area have due to conditions
in orphanages. They have "failure to bond" issues and things I've never heard of. In many cases,
the families that adopted them have had to give the kids back. They cannot cope or the adopted kid is trying to kill their other child. One family on this program did not give the girl back but this angry, violent child has ruined their quality of life completely and they've spent enormous amounts of money trying to get help for her. The longer they spend in orphanages, the greater the chance that they will not develop normally and be plagued with problems probably for life.
There are many loving homes out there. They may be gay couples, they may be single but I sure think if they have the dedication, desire, and the financial ability, it sure beats having a child stuck in the system. We have a lot of gay couples in our neighborhood. They are all really nice and fit in wonderfully around here. To be honest, there a few straight couples that we all wouldn't mind seeing "for sale" signs on their lawns. Being gay does not stop you from being a loving parent. Hell, if Elton wants to adopt me, where do I sign. I know ALL his songs even every word to Captain Fantastic and the Brown Dirt Cowboy. I don't understand what the darn song means
but I KNOW the words. Can I have my own horse? PLLLLEEEEAAAASSSSEEEEEE!
Monday, September 14, 2009
The walls are closing in
Well it's that time again. I am trying, once again, to clean out our spare room and create a much needed office for myself. I just do not know what to do with things that can't be in the heat of an
attic nor the dampness of a basement. If anyone tells you that clutter does not cause stress,
THEY'RE LYING!!!!! Tomorrow, it will be 15 years since we closed on this house. We are still not done with the renovations that were started back then and I will NEVER do this again. We gutted this place completely but not all at once. We have accomplished an awful lot but then everything came to a screeching halt and has never resumed. As if that
were not bad enough, our house has become cluttered up with stuff and we have outgrown this place before we have even finished it. This all bothers me, a lot. I have had numerous yard sales along with my mom, sisters, and even a few friends who take advantage of our location to unload their junk but still,
it keeps building up. To buy a bigger house is not an option now. I pay ridiculous property taxes. I don't want to pay more so I must figure out a way to get rid of what we don't need and organize what we can't part with. Problem is a lot of the junk is Tim's and he is both sentimental and too busy to go through it. When I get started I wind up getting so frustrated that I quit or just never get to finish the tasks for lack of time. If I didn't have to foodshop, cook, clean, pay bills, do business paperwork, run my mommy taxi service, and make good on the volunteering I do with Olivia's activities(girl scouts, cheerleading, softball), maybe
I could actually start and finish a large task around here but alas, there is no one else to fill in and
do all those other things to free me up. I picked Olivia up from a friend's house the other day.
They have 4 kids in a house smaller than mine. OK, her house is not neat either but we have
1 kid for crying out loud. My house should not be overrun like it is. On the other hand, my one neighbor has 4 kids(whose friends are constantly over there),
2 dogs and a cat and every room of her house looks like a page out of a Pottery Barn catalog.
Makes me wanna hurl everytime I see that. I wish I could be the type that could just chuck it all.
I can't see putting furniture and good stuff in a landfill when folks can use it. I also don't mind the many occasions I have sold over $1200 worth of stuff in one weekend. It's a ton of work but a win-win situation in my mind. I truly believe something Bette Midler said on a TV show one time when talking about how little her daugher had. She said, "the more you have, the less you value it." It certainly is true with Olivia. She has way too much. I stopped buying things a long time ago unless it was for birthday or holidays. But the stuff she gets from everyone even then
is too darn much and I don't think she values the stuff at all. It's all in the "getting" for her.
Once it's "got", the thrill is gone. She does not get this from me. I don't like to shop and rarely find anything I need or desire when I do. I have learned that stuff begins to own you if you have
the wrong attitude about it. It's amazing how little you need to get by and more than that, how
much happier you'd be if you were not bogged down with crap. I've been bogged down for too long. Time to dig out.
attic nor the dampness of a basement. If anyone tells you that clutter does not cause stress,
THEY'RE LYING!!!!! Tomorrow, it will be 15 years since we closed on this house. We are still not done with the renovations that were started back then and I will NEVER do this again. We gutted this place completely but not all at once. We have accomplished an awful lot but then everything came to a screeching halt and has never resumed. As if that
were not bad enough, our house has become cluttered up with stuff and we have outgrown this place before we have even finished it. This all bothers me, a lot. I have had numerous yard sales along with my mom, sisters, and even a few friends who take advantage of our location to unload their junk but still,
it keeps building up. To buy a bigger house is not an option now. I pay ridiculous property taxes. I don't want to pay more so I must figure out a way to get rid of what we don't need and organize what we can't part with. Problem is a lot of the junk is Tim's and he is both sentimental and too busy to go through it. When I get started I wind up getting so frustrated that I quit or just never get to finish the tasks for lack of time. If I didn't have to foodshop, cook, clean, pay bills, do business paperwork, run my mommy taxi service, and make good on the volunteering I do with Olivia's activities(girl scouts, cheerleading, softball), maybe
I could actually start and finish a large task around here but alas, there is no one else to fill in and
do all those other things to free me up. I picked Olivia up from a friend's house the other day.
They have 4 kids in a house smaller than mine. OK, her house is not neat either but we have
1 kid for crying out loud. My house should not be overrun like it is. On the other hand, my one neighbor has 4 kids(whose friends are constantly over there),
2 dogs and a cat and every room of her house looks like a page out of a Pottery Barn catalog.
Makes me wanna hurl everytime I see that. I wish I could be the type that could just chuck it all.
I can't see putting furniture and good stuff in a landfill when folks can use it. I also don't mind the many occasions I have sold over $1200 worth of stuff in one weekend. It's a ton of work but a win-win situation in my mind. I truly believe something Bette Midler said on a TV show one time when talking about how little her daugher had. She said, "the more you have, the less you value it." It certainly is true with Olivia. She has way too much. I stopped buying things a long time ago unless it was for birthday or holidays. But the stuff she gets from everyone even then
is too darn much and I don't think she values the stuff at all. It's all in the "getting" for her.
Once it's "got", the thrill is gone. She does not get this from me. I don't like to shop and rarely find anything I need or desire when I do. I have learned that stuff begins to own you if you have
the wrong attitude about it. It's amazing how little you need to get by and more than that, how
much happier you'd be if you were not bogged down with crap. I've been bogged down for too long. Time to dig out.
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
Road rage in NJ
I have said that NJ is famous for road rage. It's truly unbelievable. I could go on forever about the things idiots do around here and sorry ladies but the "soccer moms" are the worst. Many, notice I did not say all, can't be bothered stopping at stop signs even if it means pulling onto a main road and cutting you off. They never use turn signals cause they're on the damn phone and don't have an extra hand. There are way too many narcissistic people in this state who purposely ride on shoulders or in turn-only lanes only to cut back into traffic after passing all of
us "little people." I have said that if you ever wanted to lower the population of this state, you would need only to pass the "right to carry firearms" law and there would be bodies laying
on every highway and suburban street in this state. Maybe an even easier way would be to put everyone on dex. Actually the way people behave here, maybe they already are hopped up on dex.
I am a pretty calm driver. I don't look for trouble but it is hard not to get ticked when someone
does something illegal or damn near runs you off the road coming into your lane and then flips YOU the bird. Getting cut off is an almost daily event. Now add the PMS that accompanies peri-menopause to this mix and I can tell
ya truthfully that if I was on Dex, I would have to stop driving in this state. Yesterday, we went
to a mall I have not been to in probably 15 years. I hate to shop and this is one of the biggest and busiest malls in NJ and it was Labor Day too. We were going to buy one of those sleep number beds and I knew it would be mobbed. So you know what you're in for and you take a deep breath, relax and just deal with it. As I waited in an aisle for a couple to get to their car and pull out, a woman pulled behind me and proceded to honk her horn like crazy along with the old
arm flapping gestures and all. I gestured back that I was waiting for that spot. She did not give a rip. She wanted me to pull over to the side so she could get around me. Now obviously, she did not care that in these very narrow aisles with all these SUV's sticking out I would then not be able to angle my car into that spot without a huge amount of trouble. But the idiot also was not going to be able to make it around my car even if I did pull over the little bit of area that was left. The last time a woman tried something like this, she took the back fender of my mustang with her.
She continues to lay on the horn. I see that there is a handicapped tag hanging from her rearview and she has a man in the passenger seat. They were older than me but finally, I had had it. I put the car in park and start to get out to tell this woman what she can do with her horn
and Tim grabs me and doesn't let me get out. He later regretted this as she still did not stop and
the woman pissed him off too. So I put my car in reverse so my back-up lights went on and
got a little bit of satisfaction from the worried look on her face and she quick put her car in reverse but had nowhere to go. I must say that this tactic was much more fun when I had a stick
shift. You could put the car in reverse and hit the gas like hell with the clutch in and it makes it
more entertaining to watch their reaction. Finally the people got out of the spot and I pulled in but obnoxious lady, if you're out there, here's a few tips. 1. If you don't have any patience whatsoever, do not go to the Garden State Plaza on a huge sale day. 2. Do not beep incessantly at a sleep-deprived, worn out caregiver who has PMS. Truth be told, you are lucky my husband was in that car. You darn near got WAY more than you bargained for. I had seen a bumper sticker that I just loved on the computer or somewhere. I never thought I'd see it on a car lest
I was tooling around in Texas. I finally saw one on a guy's car just a few weeks ago and I laughed.
It says, "Keep honking, I'm re-loading." I'd love to put this on the mommy van but somehow think the moms of Olivia's friends might be just a little nervous about play dates and carpooling if I was sportin' that beauty. It's temping though! So here is a final lesson to any road ragers that might be reading. An old school friend of my sister was a chronic road rager. He looked for a challange everytime he drove. If someone passed him on the highway, he thought they were
looking for a race. So one day, it all caught up with him. I believe he was still in his 20's(it's quite some time ago now). He starts road raging someone on a busy highway near us and loses control of his pick-up in the process and flips the thing into a pole. He died. His family was devastated but everyone that knew him was not surprised. And these darn cell phones! A few years back, they landed a medivac helicopter at my daughter's schoolyard. Seems a woman a few towns away was talking on her cell phone with her 2 kids in the car. She ran a red light and got hit by a bus. Her kids were banged up. One had a broken pelvis. The mom was in bad shape. This was so heartbreaking. She lingered for a week in the hospital and then died. I know. Stinky stories but they are true and stuff like this happens every darn day. Look people, like the "High School Musical"
song says, "we're all in this together." So take a chill pill, be considerate, get off the damn phone
and drive for Pete's sake!!!!!!!! AND PLEASE DO NOT beep or flip birds at caregivers with PMS.
us "little people." I have said that if you ever wanted to lower the population of this state, you would need only to pass the "right to carry firearms" law and there would be bodies laying
on every highway and suburban street in this state. Maybe an even easier way would be to put everyone on dex. Actually the way people behave here, maybe they already are hopped up on dex.
I am a pretty calm driver. I don't look for trouble but it is hard not to get ticked when someone
does something illegal or damn near runs you off the road coming into your lane and then flips YOU the bird. Getting cut off is an almost daily event. Now add the PMS that accompanies peri-menopause to this mix and I can tell
ya truthfully that if I was on Dex, I would have to stop driving in this state. Yesterday, we went
to a mall I have not been to in probably 15 years. I hate to shop and this is one of the biggest and busiest malls in NJ and it was Labor Day too. We were going to buy one of those sleep number beds and I knew it would be mobbed. So you know what you're in for and you take a deep breath, relax and just deal with it. As I waited in an aisle for a couple to get to their car and pull out, a woman pulled behind me and proceded to honk her horn like crazy along with the old
arm flapping gestures and all. I gestured back that I was waiting for that spot. She did not give a rip. She wanted me to pull over to the side so she could get around me. Now obviously, she did not care that in these very narrow aisles with all these SUV's sticking out I would then not be able to angle my car into that spot without a huge amount of trouble. But the idiot also was not going to be able to make it around my car even if I did pull over the little bit of area that was left. The last time a woman tried something like this, she took the back fender of my mustang with her.
She continues to lay on the horn. I see that there is a handicapped tag hanging from her rearview and she has a man in the passenger seat. They were older than me but finally, I had had it. I put the car in park and start to get out to tell this woman what she can do with her horn
and Tim grabs me and doesn't let me get out. He later regretted this as she still did not stop and
the woman pissed him off too. So I put my car in reverse so my back-up lights went on and
got a little bit of satisfaction from the worried look on her face and she quick put her car in reverse but had nowhere to go. I must say that this tactic was much more fun when I had a stick
shift. You could put the car in reverse and hit the gas like hell with the clutch in and it makes it
more entertaining to watch their reaction. Finally the people got out of the spot and I pulled in but obnoxious lady, if you're out there, here's a few tips. 1. If you don't have any patience whatsoever, do not go to the Garden State Plaza on a huge sale day. 2. Do not beep incessantly at a sleep-deprived, worn out caregiver who has PMS. Truth be told, you are lucky my husband was in that car. You darn near got WAY more than you bargained for. I had seen a bumper sticker that I just loved on the computer or somewhere. I never thought I'd see it on a car lest
I was tooling around in Texas. I finally saw one on a guy's car just a few weeks ago and I laughed.
It says, "Keep honking, I'm re-loading." I'd love to put this on the mommy van but somehow think the moms of Olivia's friends might be just a little nervous about play dates and carpooling if I was sportin' that beauty. It's temping though! So here is a final lesson to any road ragers that might be reading. An old school friend of my sister was a chronic road rager. He looked for a challange everytime he drove. If someone passed him on the highway, he thought they were
looking for a race. So one day, it all caught up with him. I believe he was still in his 20's(it's quite some time ago now). He starts road raging someone on a busy highway near us and loses control of his pick-up in the process and flips the thing into a pole. He died. His family was devastated but everyone that knew him was not surprised. And these darn cell phones! A few years back, they landed a medivac helicopter at my daughter's schoolyard. Seems a woman a few towns away was talking on her cell phone with her 2 kids in the car. She ran a red light and got hit by a bus. Her kids were banged up. One had a broken pelvis. The mom was in bad shape. This was so heartbreaking. She lingered for a week in the hospital and then died. I know. Stinky stories but they are true and stuff like this happens every darn day. Look people, like the "High School Musical"
song says, "we're all in this together." So take a chill pill, be considerate, get off the damn phone
and drive for Pete's sake!!!!!!!! AND PLEASE DO NOT beep or flip birds at caregivers with PMS.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
