Keep Pushing Forward!

I believe you when you say it's chemo

but it looks an awful lot like Kool-Aid to me. 

Oh yeah!

 

 

 

CT Scan Update:  The scan showed an interesting mix of progress in some spots, a little decline in others, while thankfully nothing new popped up.  I'll just say I'm grateful to see improvement and even more grateful to push forward with "bigger guns". 

This week I was introduced to my new chemo drug, Doxil.  Please indulge me as I attempt to get the following song stuck in your head.  It's been lingering in mine for a week:

I hadn't thought of Huey Lewis and the News since 1985

 

 

My doctor recently explained, and I hope I'm not butchering her valuable information because she's an experienced oncologist and respected cancer researcher and I check off the "some college or technical school" box on surveys (and I'm partial to run on sentences), that tumors have their own DNA (what the what?!).  Yes!  Their own DNA - apart from mine - and sometimes cancer cells can mutate.  There could be a more targeted cancer treatment that would be better suited for my individual tumors.  She blew my mind!  Here's an article:

• Cancer Genomics: New Technologies Speed Discovery and Expand Opportunities for Personalized Medicine

So my pathology will be studied in an effort to get to the bottom of these pesky, uncooperative tumors.  I have to tell you, I may not understand the complexities of it, but I am excited about the prospect of this technology for cancer patients overall.  God, I ask for a special blessing on the lives of these brilliant people!

The "New" Drug

 

Change is such an interesting beast.  I've had the same Taxol and Carboplatin routine for 14 weeks.  I know when certain side effects would hit me hardest and when I would be ok to go out for dinner.  I also liked having to show up weekly for chemo - It just  made me feel like I'm actively in the fight, doing something each week. Doxil is administered every 28 days.  It's also a different drug which means new side effects.  As much as change is an adjustment, I have to roll with it.  We got our money's worth from my previous 2 drugs and it's time to move on.  I had my first dose last week and it's funny -  it's kind of nice not having to think about getting to chemo this week. 

My Doc and chemo nurses reviewed the drug, what to expect during treatment and how to stay on top of possible side effects.  Here goes:   

• Fatigue was discussed.   Now that it's been in my system for almost a week, I can say with a high degree of certainty the evil Queen spiked Snow White's apple with Doxil. It's the type of fatigue where you take a nap on Monday at 3pm and wake up Thursday at noon.
• The color of the drug itself can, but didn't, turn my tears and urine pink.  I was tempted to drink a big gulp (in your face Bloomberg) and watch the last 20 minutes of "Terms of Endearment" to test it out on my way home (please note, I do NOT endorse the consumption of sugary beverages, however, Mayor Nanny's out of control.  To quote Edina Monsoon, "...we're all not stupid. We don't all need nurse maiding").  I was disappointed to see my run of the mill clear tears, I admit.
• Unless a patient experienced an allergic reaction to the initial treatment, IV Benadryl is no longer a necessary chemo pre-med for this drug.  Did I tell you I had a virgin Pina Colada on Sunday?  Yeah, I got dressed up, put on makeup and had a coconut shake with a cherry garnish at a nice restaurant while my girlfriends enjoyed big girl sangria.  Now, I'm not a drinker, but I do enjoy an occasional glass of pinot noir with dinner or a nice port during desert.  Not on chemo can alcohol happen.  IV Benadryl was the closest I came to a glass of wine.  I should be happy I didn't have a reaction.  Of course I am happy I didn't have a reaction.  I'll just go back to sniffing other people's wine glasses like a dog.  At least desert is still very much an option
• Mouth sores.  Possible nausea/vomiting. Major palm of hand and sole of feet irritation all possible.  Bag Balm was recommended for immediate and daily use for the hands and feet and Biotene to help prevent mouth sores.  We picked it up within a few hours of treatment and I started using the products daily that night.  Any good cancer patient knows - if your doctor and/or chemo nurse makes a recommendation, you take it with gusto.

Food tastes shifted again this week.  Chicken is out completely and it saddens me to note Pastina hasn't been on the radar in weeks.  Dad's baked ziti on the other hand seems to be doing just fine in my belly, as are greens, string beans, fish and surprisingly, steak. 

CT Scan Cocktail Party

March 7, 2013
My Raspberry flavored contrast "beverage"
I was denied a side of chips and salsa

The last time I had a CT Scan and was required to chug me down some tasty Gastrografin was in December. Thursday was time for a follow up scan. 

This less than luscious contrast beverage is offered in a water base flavor (not recommended) or raspberry and laundry detergent flavor.  As much as I didn't look forward to the cocktail, it's not a big deal and isn't as terrible as other medical beverages I've downed.  A number of years ago I was prescribed a jug of the unbelievably vile cherry flavored GoLYTELY for colonoscopy prep.  I vomited most of it on my parents' den rug.  There isn't enough money in the world to make me ingest that horrific liquid again (I'm a far more sophisticated colonoscopy prepper now).  Comparatively speaking, Gastrografin is a piece of cake.

The CT Scan itself is a physically easy test.  All I have to do is lay still on a movable stretcher while a large donut takes images of my insides.   Emotionally however, I can easily become a wreck if I don't keep a constant watch on defeating, hope draining thoughts.  This CT scan is important.  Irrational, unfounded concerns can cause my mind to quickly spiral out of control, opening the gates to the devil's Depressionland playground.  Not a fun place.

Cancer's reminded me that evil doesn't take a break or call a time-out when a child of God is down.  Some days involve moments of emotional battle that can be simply exhausting, but ultimately victorious.  The only way I can survive is through prayer and scripture. 

I've learned to have very candid conversations with God (prayer), where I share it all - good and bad, with or without tears.   When I ask for help I usually ask for the kind of strength, wisdom and peace only He can give to help me stand on my situation.  Time and time again He's answered that prayer and each time oppression is replaced with renewed energy and joy.  I don't know what's going to happen tomorrow, but I know God's with me whatever tomorrow brings.

Scripture reaffirms God's compassion, love and hope and I'll read it and recite it out loud.  When Jesus was in the wilderness for 40 days and the devil tried to tempt Him, Jesus called out the devil's lies by speaking scripture to his face (Matthew 4:1-11).  I had a moment at some point early on in treatment where the thought "God's forsaken Amy" swirled in my head.  As I considered starting my pity party, I thought about those 3 words - God's forsaken Amy.  Wait a second - That's a lie!  God said He would NEVER leave us or forsake us.  In fact, say it loud, say it proud, His words in Deuteronomy 31:6 were "be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid or terrified because of them, for the Lord your God goes with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you."   Suddenly I had clarity and peace.  I had strength and felt fearless.  I had the urge, if I knew how to hunt demons and flush them down the toilet, to hunt that evil spirit, grab it by the back of the neck and flush it down the toilet.  And kick it's butt.  I would have kicked it a few times in the butt.


 Ephesians 6:10 - 17 - Finally, be strong in the Lord and in his mighty power. Put on the full armor of God, so that you can take your stand against the devil’s schemes. For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms. Therefore put on the full armor of God, so that when the day of evil comes, you may be able to stand your ground, and after you have done everything, to stand. Stand firm then, with the belt of truth buckled around your waist, with the breastplate of righteousness in place, and with your feet fitted with the readiness that comes from the gospel of peace. In addition to all this, take up the shield of faith, with which you can extinguish all the flaming arrows of the evil one. Take the helmet of salvation and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God.

Throwing Your Retainer in the Lunchroom Trash

Who let Uncle Fester in this house?! 

 

Oh, it's me.  Without makeup.  Or hair.

 

I might be ready to revisit a wig.  Thank God for eyebrows.

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Stop me if I told you this already.  My primary weekly chemo drug is Taxol. Every 4th treatment week I get an added bonus boost of another chemo drug, Carboplatin.  I call that "T&C Week". While Taxol is sucking the life from my joints, took most of my hair and makes me sleepy, it fortunately doesn't make me nauseas.  Oh, but Carboplatin. 

Carboplatin's most common side effects are "nausea, vomiting, unusual tiredness or weakness".  "Unusual" is an interesting word.  If by "unusual" they mean "a 5 day nap on the mattress of your choice" consider that definition nailed.

As one could well imagine, T&C Week isn't my favorite.  It's the week I experience the greatest emotional, physical and spiritual battles.   It's also the week I'm prescribed $400 in anti-nausea drugs and you better believe I'm using them.   

The in-house pharmacy at Sloan is fantastic - they deliver your take home, post-chemo meds during your treatment in a small paper bag.  I typically open the bag during chemo and review its contents to ensure I have everything I need, saving the receipts in my purse.  You know what else comes in a small paper bag?  Lunch. 

Immediately following treatment, after the nurse unhooks me from the chemo machine, I take a minute or two to sit up and shake off the Benadryl.  Lou and I gather our belongings, make sure our space is as clean as we found it, wish our nurses a great week and make our escape.   

Off to the elevator and down to the main floor we went last week, happy the day's treatment was over and eager to go home.  I had already taken my first dose of the super drug Emend and...where's my Emend?  Hold on a minute - Where's my Emend and where's the Zofran? 

Me:  Lou, do you have my meds?

Lou:  I thought you put them in your purse?

Me:  I didn't put them in my purse.  They were in the paper bag.  Honey, did you throw the bag away?

The look of horror on his face said it all.  His eyes screamed "I can't believe I threw the meds away".

You haven't witnessed efficiency and professionalism in the world of hospital cleanup until you've experienced the environmental team at Sloan.  Faster than you can blink these quiet men and women swoop in on their territory to completely clean and sanitize an area for the next patient's use.  In the time it took us to get on the elevator, travel a few floors, realize our error, exit the elevator and enter another elevator to go back up to the GYN floor, my chemo cubby's trash could be halfway to a landfill; they're just that ninja. 

As quickly as the rush of frustration came over me of having potentially lost $400 worth of covered drugs - the adult equivalent of throwing your retainer in the lunchroom trash - I had to calm down, take a breath and put reality in perspective.

1. God has it under control.  I've had 11th hour pharmacy crisis experiences before and God always made a way.  One way or another, we'll get the meds back.
2. Do I have a right to let loose on my husband?  After all, I'm not 100% when I'm immediately done with chemo and he threw the meds away.  The answer is no!  This cancer crap sucks and like many medical problems, can test the limits of a marriage.  When you have a stellar spouse by your side who wipes your tears and sacrifices sleep so you're never alone, you shut your mouth over the petty stuff. 

Having returned to my treatment floor, we flew back into the chemo area, two determined tornadoes.  Sure enough, my chemo cubby was clean and the trash was missing.

"UM.  WE ACCIDENTALLY THREW AWAY MY MEDS"

I nicely yelled to the nurse's station. 

Immediately two fantastic staff members shot around us and across the floor, through hallways and back corridors, determined to track down our trash and the environmental staffer moving it.  Lou followed as I shuffled slowly behind.  "Lord, I'm sorry we were careless with the medicine.  Please help us find it." The clock was ticking.  One hall after another came up empty.  Within a few minutes, however, the staff found our man, along with his massive rolling trash bin, headed toward the service elevator.  This kind gentleman was more than happy to stop and assist.  I was never so grateful for clear trash bags in my life. He laid bag after bag on the floor until I was able to spot my small paper bag right next to my empty 20 oz hot tea cup and discarded lunch.  As much as we insisted on helping him retrieve our items from the filthy bag, he wouldn't hear of it.  Staff at other hospitals might have rolled their eyes and mumbled to themselves as we inconvenienced their day, but not these folks and not this very sweet guy. 

I'm going to switch gears here for a minute because it's on my heart.  It doesn't matter what title you have at work or what tasks you're required to perform.  Of all the compassionate people, fancy job titles and prestigious positions at Sloan, it was the cheerful, gracious cleaning guy who blessed our day the most last week.  Not because he saved us hundreds of dollars, but because he was so happy, from his heart, to help.

Colossians 3:23-24 - Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for men, since you know that you will receive an inheritance from the Lord as a reward.

Getting to Know You

Let's continue our discussion about dating?  Yes, let's!

 

I preface this blog entry by saying (1) I need a personal time out from the seemingly constant cancer talk in my day to day life and (2) I wouldn't ask anyone to do or say something I already haven't, before I married my Sweet Babboo. 

 

Thank you for continuing to indulge me as I write about this topic.

 

____________________________________________________________

 

"Just Friends" (2005)
Featuring Ryan Reynolds and the brilliant Julie Hagerty

____________________________________________________________

It's Just a Date

Getting to know someone on a date can be great fun if you keep it all in perspective.  A date is not an invitation to be exclusive and it's certainly not a marriage proposal.   Be yourself, enjoy the conversation and put the brakes on letting your imaginary future with this person get the best of you.  

My first date with Lou took place a couple of weeks after we were introduced.  We agreed to meet for coffee and ended up sitting at an outdoor table, talking for hours.  For us, it was perfect - casual and laid back. 

Ladies, my sisters, a side note:  Please dress with dignity for your date.  Dress as the mature woman you are.  You are more than your flesh.  No man respects a woman who looks like a cheap tramp. 


Politics and Religion

I'm going to buck the system.  Instead of adhering to the old advice that you don't talk politics and religion with a date, I say you do.    Life is too short to waste your time trying to force a new relationship to work when it's not meant to be.  So much of what makes us who we are is what we believe.  For me personally, no matter how far from God I was when I met Lou, I knew I wanted someone who shared my faith.  I also wanted someone who was not only aware of the world around them, but proactive in being part of the solution.   

Couples won't always see eye to eye on everything, but you'll want to know if you share ideas and beliefs in common.  You'll also want to see how your date handles a difference of opinion - Do they dismiss your ideas without considering your perspective?  Or do they consider your thoughts and rationally share theirs in an effort to come to an understanding?   


Perils of Pinterest and Facebook

Worst relationship advice meme ever

Pinterest is open for all the world to see.  A board of DIY projects and recipes are pretty benign for a potential date to find.  I interpret them to mean "I'm not afraid to get my hands dirty and try something new".  I like that. 

The board you named "My Future Wedding" - the one where you've pinned pictures of tuxedos or dresses, entrees you would like served at your reception and $$$ engagement rings $$$ you've eyed?  To quote Walt, the utility company engineer down at Nakatomi Plaza in the epic flick "Die Hard" (1988) "SHUT IT DOWN.  SHUT IT DOWN NOW".  That's what scrapbooking and private journals are for.

Do you know if your Facebook photos, comments, friends list, etc., are open to the public?  What do your comments, posts and photos say about you if a date were to look you up?  Why not wait a while before "friending" a date or sharing your Facebook page with someone you don't know very well?  Maybe it's time to reconsider your security settings for a bit.

Kids

If you have them, let your date know.  If you fail to mention you have one or more children, your date's going to wonder what else you're hiding.  Please note, it doesn't mean you introduce your child to your date.  Every family situation is different, but the emotional and physical safety of your kid is of vital importance.  Introductions can wait.

Resisting the Urge to Discuss Past Relationships

If you want to talk about your ex-boyfriend or ex-girlfriend at any time during your date(s), excuse yourself, go to the restroom and smack your own hand in between the bathroom stall door.  Whatever you do, keep your yapper closed.  No one wants to hear about your past romantic relationships. 

How We Were Raised

Sure you want to know about your date's ambitions, where they went to school, what they do for work and fun.  And you should discuss those topics.  Although fun to discuss, quality relationships aren't based on what concerts you've been to this year.  It's far more important to understand who this person is and where they come from. 

We were all raised in a dysfunctional family, by imperfect parents or guardians.  No one leaves a home without some baggage.  Some levels of dysfunction, however, may be far beyond our understanding and personal experiences.  What's abnormal behavior to one family is completely normal to another. 

Lou was unaware of our "family dining practices" the first time he came out with us as a family.  As the appetizers arrived, my father asked "Louie, what did you order?"  As my then boyfriend looked down at his plate and began to describe his dish, my father's fork flew in the air, landing on Lou's food.  As Lou looked on, confused and now speechless, Dad's fork scooped a little nibble and returned to Dad's mouth.  Lou was mortified.  What was/is normal behavior for our ravenous family, was nothing Lou was used to.  When Lou was growing up, you kept your fork on your own plate and ate what you ordered.  It's interesting to note, after 14 years with my family, Lou's fork now freely roams on plates alongside Dad's. That first dinner, however was indeed a little tense and awkward.

Identifying family differences between you and your date will help you gain some insight into how your date was raised and how their "normal" lines up with your "normal". 

Side note:  If the relationship progresses, you'll absolutely want to observe how your date interacts with those he or she cares about - What's their body language toward one another?  How do they greet each other?  How do they handle disagreements and what makes them laugh? 

I don't expect you to obtain answers from the first few dates to all of the following questions, but I do want you to put these questions to deep thought.  This is information you need to know if the relationship progresses, in my personal opinion:

• Who raised them and what is their current relationship?
• If they have siblings, what is their relationship like?
• How did the family spend their holidays and downtime? 
• Growing up, did their family usually eat together or did everyone eat on their own?
• What was the relationship like between their parents and grandparents?  Did the in-laws get along?
• Was a parent verbally/physically abusive?
• How were they disciplined if they got into trouble?
• How does their family resolve conflict?  Are they confrontational and resolve issues quickly or are they passive-aggressive and not comfortable being direct? 
• How did his/her family fare financially?  Were they always in debt? 
• Who balanced the household finances? 

Ah, yes.  Finances.  Now you may say "Amy, it's none of my business if the family lived on credit cards".  Here's the truth - Sex and finances are the top two issues married couples fight about.  As far as finances go, if your date is used to living in debt and you're not, that's going to be a big issue at some point in your relationship.  

I'm not talking about people who lose it all to unforeseen circumstances.  Too many people are intent on competing with the material possessions of others and either don't know how to live within their means or refuse to.  Why?  So people think you're somehow better because of your stuff?  Totally meaningless!   

Unless you're independently wealthy and can pay for homes in cash, I understand completely that credit is a necessary evil.  Sometimes we run into emergencies where we blow out a car tire or need a root canal and have no choice but to pay for something over a window of time.  It happens. 

But bad, even fair credit is damaging and takes time to get out of.  Bad credit can "red flag" an employer's background check.  It can interfere with getting approved for an apartment or a good rate, let alone an offer, on a car loan or mortgage.  The topic of finances and credit, maybe not on the first date, is mad important, son.

Important Extras

I briefly dated a guy who was a reformed heavy drinker.  It was obvious he wasn't very comfortable in his own skin without a drink.  I know this because he couldn't stop talking about needing a drink. I'm not a mental health professional and I'm not an alcohol abuse counselor.  While it's my responsibility as a human being to care about other human beings, I recommended he seek professional help for his possible dependency on alcohol and ended the relationship. 
 
Abusive people generally keep a lid on their abusive behavior until they know "they have you".  There is no excuse for physical and/or emotional abuse, Rihanna.  Get out.  Let me let you in on a secret.  He's not sorry and unless said offender undergoes intense therapy, it will happen again. 

 

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I'm not a matchmaker, marriage counselor, lawyer or therapist - just a chick whose lived a bit and wants to see people have successful relationships. 

James 1:5 - If any of you lacks wisdom, he should ask God, who gives generously to all without finding fault, and it will be given to him.

Dating

I required another blood transfusion a few weeks ago which meant 4 hours minimum of sitting around in a private room.  I have the attention span of a 5 yr old.  An iPad and a few old Readers Digests can only take me so far.  While my chemo nurse was setting up the first bag of New Orleans donated blood, I flipped through the television for something relevant to enjoy.  I stumbled on a marathon of the MTV series Catfish*.  The show documents the initial face-to-face meeting of two people who have been "dating" on-line for a significant period of time.  Although I heard of the show, this was my first time actually watching it.  I wasn't immediately sure what to make of it but for the next few hours, I tuned in. 

Here's the trailer:

What do we generally learn through the course of each show?  The folks you meet on-line may not be exactly who they say they are.  Is it that different from dating "in person"?  Well, yes and no but at the very least "in person" you'd know right away if the dame you're talking to really is a dame.

What surprised me most about the folks featured on this show is how relatable they are.  Hear me out.  At some point, we've all been naïve, we've all been desperate for love and we've all "lived in our heads".   We've also all lied in some way.  Although I never lied about my gender or job, I did lie about liking football when I was 16 (and attempted to learn the game overnight with the help of the World Book Encyclopedia).  A few years later, after reading the ridiculously horrible dating guide "The Rules" (1995), I went on a few dates with a guy not as Amy, but as some brainless, agreeable, perky girl who didn't have an opinion of her own.  The two nut jobs who authored that dreadful book just published another gem where they encourage female readers not to respond to a guy's text for 4 hours.  Ain't nobody got time for that.

My husband and I met in-person through mutual friends.  So did Amber Frey and Scott Peterson.  Taking that into consideration, I caution single friends who date, regardless of whether they meet someone through friends or on-line, to proceed with caution, keep their wits about them and gently ask questions.  It's also important to keep our feelings in constant check (feelings change and may not be sane) and keep track of the answers and information given you by a date.  Matthew 10:16 - Therefore be as shrewd as snakes and as innocent as doves.  The word shrewd means "marked by clever discerning awareness and hardheaded common sense".  I like that, especially in this context. 

I am very fortunate to have a mom who instilled dating and marriage advice in me from the time I was a kid (I'm grateful my church wasn't afraid to dive into the topic either).  We all need someone in our lives, an honest friend or family member, who we can confide in.  Someone who isn't afraid to lovingly call out our nonsense and help set us straight.  Someone who gives the right advice and looks out for our best interests. A good candidate should be in a successful marriage, a little or a lot older, wise and extremely trustworthy.  You need to know your secrets are safe with the mentor you choose.  A good mentor maintains good, healthy friendships with other people, they're respected and loved  and they would never push you to lie, scheme or make up drama to get information or attention from a potential mate.

Let me stop here for a second since this now reads as a self-help column.  Some of you may find my notes refreshing while others might call me severely paranoid.  Either way, I hope it'll get us talking.  For those of us who have been married 10, 20, 30 or more years, the interwebs needs WISE dating advice.  Feel free to leave yours in the comments section. 

And we continue...

 

 

• You want God's best for you?  Trust me - yes you do.  God's best is better than anything you could come up with on your own.  First, pray. Ask God for His perfect will in your life.  Ask Him for dating wisdom, for Him to protect your heart, to keep your feelings in check and to lead you to the right relationship He wants you to have, in His time.  If God wants you to be married, He's going to bring someone to you that will knock you off your feet.  Doesn't mean that mate won't leave their dirty socks on the floor - that's another blog for another day.
• Ask God to help you get you in order.  Here's where that mentor is going to come in handy - by honestly helping you evaluate where you are and encouraging you to be who God made you to be.  Do you love yourself?  Do you have unresolved anger issues?  Trust issues?  Baggage you cling to but need to let go?  Do you know who you are and what you're looking for?  Have you in the past limited your dating options by putting more stock in a person's body type than their character?  Have you always gravitated towards a certain personality in a prospective mate that in the end is simply incompatible with your temperament? 
• OK, so you've prayed, evaluated your life and believe you're ready to meet people.  Let a few trusted friends and family members know you're looking to date.  The people closest to you, who genuinely love you, are often the best at arranging dates.  My parents met through my Dad's cousin, who happened to be a dear friend and co-worker of my Mom, who didn't like who either of who they dated in the past.  My parents just celebrated 40 years of wedded bliss (and they really still like and love each other).

• If you're old enough to remember a pre-haircut James Hetfield and you've engaged in on-line conversations with a romantic interest you've never met for 2 years and you're satisfied with that, who am I to tell you otherwise?  If however you want a face-to-face relationship, stop making excuses why you've never met, cut ties and move on.  You deserve more than that.

• It used to be said if someone only gave you their cell number and not their home number, that was a red flag.  Why?  Because if someone was afraid to give you their home number, chances are they didn't want you to get to know their spouse (slime ball).  Many people now however only use their cell phone so the old guidance doesn't necessarily apply.  These days I think it's safe to say if the person you're communicating with on-line never speaks with you on the phone or via Skype or after their regular business hours, that's a red flag.  If they can only speak with you between 8AM and 5PM, unless they work some crazy shift, find someone else.
• Meet your date for your first few dates and always let people close to you know your itinerary and who you're with.  You don't know this person very well.  Who said they have a right to know your address, especially if you live alone? 
• Go on dates at a decent hour where there are plenty of other witnesses people around.  Ever hear of a 7PM restaurant bar brawl?  Never happened.  I've said it for years - Only bad things happen after midnight.
• So you've been on one or two dates with a person and things seem to be going well.  That's great!  It's still too soon to decide if you want to take his last name or hyphenate your maiden and married names.  Live in reality, not in your head.  Now's the time to take note of what you like about the person and what you don't like about the person.  Check it over with your mentor.  It's hard but try not to get ahead of yourself.
• So now you have a date's name, a phone number and maybe an e-mail address.  Have you googled that information? 
• Are they a registered sex offender?
• National - http://www.nsopw.gov
• NY - http://www.criminaljustice.ny.gov/nsor
• Are they currently on parole?  http://nysdoccslookup.doccs.ny.gov/
• Did they ever do time in a Federal Pen? http://www.bop.gov/iloc2/LocateInmate.jsp
• This doesn't cover everything, but it will get you thinking.  Although the top two only cover NY, message me and we'll find the relevant links for your State and County.

I think we're going to end here for the night.  I have so much more to say about dating...and marriage. 

To be continued...

* With the exception of Catfish and most MTV True Life documentaries, I have no use for the rest of MTV's programming and do not advocate its viewing.  End of necessary note from a Church HS youth leader on sick leave.

Having a Moment

Lou's alarm went off at 5:00 AM (I rolled over like a possum).  My alarm went off at 5:30 AM...and then again at 5:37 AM.  Chemo was scheduled for 8:00 AM and Lou wanted to be on the road by 6:00 AM.  He nagged "If we get there earlier than your appointment, they'll take you sooner and we might be able to get out of there quicker".  I can't just roll out of bed like some boy.  I need a quick hose and I need to make sure I have the necessities for the day including my blood thinner shot, some crackers and of course, my makeup.  There wouldn't be time to carefully apply my Lancôme in the house but I can always pretty up on the way.  Never mind the potholes - I just need my makeup, the lighted mirror from the car's sun visor and I got this. 

(Lou and I left 10 minutes after 6, whateva, I got out of the house in record time...and I thought we were leaving too early anyway.)

We walked out of the house into the unforgiving frigid air.  The early morning ice cold smack in the face just topped off the previous several days that had been a little unkind to me.  I'm miles away from my "normal" self.  Mostly house bound and bored, I would detail the side effects that have intensified recently, but I'd no doubt sound like a 90 year old woman complaining how her grandchildren never visit her.  Old woman, no one wants to hear it.  I'll just say this.  If you leaned into my face after my right ear drum's DJ spun the high pitched hit "Ca-Ca-Chemo Tinnitus", and shouted "GRANDMA...HOW ARE YOU FEEEEELING TODAAAY?" my response would start with "let me tell you about my violent medically controlled acid reflux" and conclude with "did I tell you I pee weird?".  
 
Walking toward the car, cranky me started a conversation with God. "Lord, it's cold, I don't feel well and I'm tired. Is this all worth it?".  I felt a few warm tears roll down my chilled cheeks and did my best to quietly open the door to take the passenger seat.  As I sat down and pulled my seat belt forward, I desperately fought back the tears so as not to alarm my husband.  Then Lou started the car.  The moment the key hit the ignition, blasting through the speakers I heard the start of a chorus, as though being sung only to me:

"We were made to be courageous"

Just like that, a line from a song I've casually heard 1,000 times before took on a whole new meaning. It never stops amazing me that the God of all creation not only knows but cares so much to reach little old me (all of us) right on time.  I laughed and thanked Him for the gentle reminder. Those cranky tears were now grateful. No matter what the outcome, march on little soldier, march on!

Psalm 30:11-12 - You turned my wailing into dancing; you removed my sackcloth and clothed me with joy, that my heart may sing to you and not be silent. O LORD my God, I will give you thanks forever.

And now, Casting Crowns - "Courageous":

Oh, I'm sorry.  You say you want to know if Lou was right about waking me from my peaceful slumber to leave the house before the rooster crowed?  Yes, he was.  We were back home shoving Turkish food in our faces by 1:00 PM.  That is all.

"Courageous" -  

 

 

Beauty That Can Only Come Through Trials

I recently spent a Sunday supervising my parents as they meticulously unpacked flat compressed wood pieces, sorted through countless screws, studied instructions and assembled two pieces of Ikea kitchen furniture in their living room.  They're celebrating 40 years of marriage this February and I can tell you, in that living room I watched 40 years of joy, trials, disagreements, love and communication unfold before my eyes. 

As kids, we know only what we see, what we overhear and what our parents allow us to hear.  I know they suffered a miscarriage before me, they've lost 3 parents between them and too many loved ones to count.  I remember the loss of a business or two, two cancer surgeries, a hip replacement and financial sacrifices.  Sickness and health, richer or poorer, good times and bad, they've lived it, baby. And despite the struggles they've endured together, their love and commitment to each other is rock solid.  These two people can't stand even the thought of being without each other for mundane chores.  Food shopping?  They have to go together.  Hair cuts?  They have to go together.  Try to get Mom to go somewhere without Dad and Dad will lose his mind.  "We're Velcro! Don't try to separate us!" he'll yell.  Dad, I just want to take Mom to Macy's, we're not running away to join the circus. 

During furniture assembly, they knew when to pick their battles and when it was time for a potato and egg break.  They didn't rush the process, rather, took their time to read through the instructions, talked out each step and made adjustments when pieces didn't fit as the instructions stated.  It was rather amazing to watch.  That Sunday morning they weren't my parents, they were "Mike and Jo, AARP members and champion married couple". 

Before my current health issues, the "in sickness and in health" portion of our vows comprised mostly of a limited line of duty injury or two, some colds, a bad gall bladder, and a kidney stone.  And of course, a few bouts with food poisoning.  Is there anything sexier than passing your spouse a trash bag to vomit in while they're frozen on the toilet?  I don't recall that being covered in our pre-marriage counseling class.

For Lou and me, a big "for worse" trial came between 2004 and 2005.  It almost ended us.   Let me give you a little background.  Lou and I married in classic Italian overkill style  in October, 2000.  We lived in a cute one bedroom apartment that I suffocated with silk flowers and curtains.  I was working as a paralegal for a small law firm in Tribeca and Lou was enjoying his employment as a full time cop and occasional Soldier. All I knew about Lou's monthly military service was this: 

1. One weekend a month, 2 weeks a year our apartment was never so clean. 
2. When he came home from a drill weekend he smelled of diesel fuel and mud.
3. His dirty bags would sit in the living room for a week...Some things never change.
4. I didn't consider myself a military spouse, in fact, I didn't even count his military drills as a part time job.  It was 48-72 hours a month.  He was a cop everyday therefore I was a cop's wife.

I remember asking him on our wedding day if the military would ever send him anywhere.  "Nowhere serious" he said.  "Hurricanes and floods.  They never send us out of the country".

Never say never...

The Duggars had 14 kids when my husband left for his first deployment to Iraq in 2004.   Even before he left, our communication was horrendous and my spiritual life was in the toilet.  Lou went over as an infantryman and I knew he was "outside the wire" daily.  My sleep was completely messed up for 18 months, as I'd wait hours for him to pop on-line to "chat" via instant messenger.  I'd receive word from time to time that someone from the Battalion was killed or medevac'd out of Iraq with serious injuries or vehicles were blown up in roadside bombs, but for endless, agonizing hours, no names of those involved could be disclosed.  When I'd go to sleep I'd pray he wouldn't come home in a box and then an hour later I'd curse him for "choosing the military over me".  I was surviving on anxiety, resentment and late night Ron Popiel infomercials. 

The guys in his company asked me to be their lead Family Readiness Group Volunteer.  Could they have picked a more unqualified, military illiterate, clueless leader whose marriage was hanging by a thread?  I asked Lou why anyone would have chosen me.  Apparently someone remembered I brought them all candy, toothbrushes and playing cards while they worked a Tropical Storm one year.  And it's funny.  My thought, as I stood in Duane Reade buying Lou some necessities during the storm, was very basic kindergarten logic.  How could I bring Lou a toothbrush and candy and not everyone else?  Weren't they too called on short notice?  And so our FRG was born. 

I enlisted the help of some wonderful unit family members, a couple who remain "sisters" today.  I freely admitted to several of them that I was ready to throw in the towel on my own marriage.    I didn't understand at the time why God would allow us to endure such a horrible 18 months.  At one point during the deployment I remember just being physically and emotionally at my limit.  I threw my hands angrily at God and said "If YOU want this marriage fixed, then YOU fix it!".  

We have no idea what kind of "outside of the box" and "wow I didn't see that coming" beauty God can pull out of our messes when we let Him.  

Through my experiences as a military spouse and volunteer, I was able to exit a profession I hated to work for a non-profit I enjoyed.  A couple of years later, and for over 5 years now, I've been able to do what I now love - help military Families, Service members and Veterans.  Ultimately, and what I'm more grateful for, is a marriage of two imperfect people, reconciled in the love of God, hopelessly in love with each other who learned how to communicate and appreciate each other.  If we never endured the trial, we never would have enjoyed where we are together, today. 

Married or not, we all suffer through and are challenged by often unexpected situations in life - loss of a job or home, illness, death of a loved one, the spouse who calls it quits.  There's no denying these terrible times in our lives are painful and try to take us down.  We doubt how anything beautiful or good can come out of our misery.  If you're in the thick of something now, hang on and don't give up!  Evaluate your circumstances, turn it over to God and stand determined to see it through with divine direction.  Luke 1:37 - For nothing is impossible with God.  He said "NOTHING"!

~

2 Corinthians 4:16-17 - Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day. For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all.

 

 

Let's Catch Up!

A few folks expressed concern since I haven't written in a couple of weeks (that's mighty kind of you, thanks).  I tend not to write much if I don't feel God putting anything relevant on my heart to write.  Not sure how much of God's hands are on today's entry but I did want to check in with everyone, especially with those of you who don't have Facebook to see which cat picture I "liked" today to know I'm OK:

It was this one

• I am excited to be able to cook again and move around like a normal person.  God willing the obscene level of upper body swelling that monopolized December, 2012 will never return ever never ever again.  While a year ago I might have taken offense, I've never been more excited to hear  one of my beloved nurses beam with pride and shout "YOU HAVE A NECK!" upon seeing my progress. 
• My weekly mid-morning dose of pre-med IV Benadryl - my imaginary trip to the beach - has turned into a spastic leg twitchin' party.  It's amazing how the body can react differently to the same drug once it becomes familiar with it. 
• Two weeks in a row and my chemo port has been working like a champ!  God and radiology department, thank you!  I explained in a previous post that the chemo port was surgically implanted in my upper right chest, under the skin to make the delivery of chemo and blood transfusions (blood work in general) easier.  A simple needle (either the small needle or the harpoon) is inserted into the port before chemo delivery and removed once the necessary procedure is complete.  I pray weekly for the small needle. 
• I used to fear big, furry spiders.  Now I fear your cough.  If you sneeze on me, I might smack you in the mouth (consider it an open palm of Purell and love).  Please don't dismiss the flu shot.  I got it for my health this and previous years, and not just for me, but for the health of those around me.  20 kids are dead.  20 kids will never celebrate another birthday in this country because of the stinking FLU! 
• Eyebrows?  Check.  Eyelashes?  Check.  Mustache?  Check.  Scalp hair?  Scalp hair?  Makeup?  Check!  Shiny brooch bling on my hats? CHEEEECK!
• My nephew (Christmas Eve post) has been aware of my illness now for a couple of weeks and asked minimal questions of my brother during their talk.  My only regret right now is that I can't attend his sporting events.  An enclosed gymnasium packed with 10 year old boys?  I might as well stick my hands in a Holland Tunnel gas station toilet and rub my eyes.

I'll tell you what threw me for a little loop in this whole process - My pharmaceutically changed taste buds. I've had a 37 year love affair with food.  I married a man who loves to travel with me just to eat.  Even as a child, the most basic stuff - a freshly mashed ripe banana or a good roasted sweet potato would satisfy my baby belly.  Now?  I could throw a sweet potato against a wall, they're useless to me.  Banana?  Ick.  The saddest?  A truly gifted home cook prepared what I know had to be a divine baked spinach dip recently.  Unfortunately all my mouth detected was cardboard and bland cream cheese. 

Overall, despite the big and small challenges, God continues to answer our prayers for joy and peace. I thank you for your continued prayers for healing for me and others in your life facing similar challenges.  You're in my prayers everyday!

Here's a little Matt Maher "Alive Again", just 'cause:

Just Trust

This week brought us a (drum roll please).....

TOTALLY UNEVENTFUL 

TREATMENT DAY!! 

My hemoglobin was at a 9, my port worked immediately and we were in and out in 4-5 hours.  Thank You Lord!!  The experience was dramatically different than previous weeks, most recently the week prior. 

God is certainly working on me and my imperfections and I am humbled and so thankful for His gentle instruction.  Last week He mercifully showed me another area I was lacking and needed His help with...

"Wakey, Wakey!!".  It was the day after Christmas.  Lou got me up a little after 5am.  Morning person I am not, especially when outside of my window, I see the same darkness as when I went to sleep.  I had to be at treatment by 7am, the same time the treatment facility's elevators start running.  To my delight, I was the 3rd patient to check in and by 7:30am I was called to phlebotomy for vitals.  At 9:30am my name was announced for chemo.  Lou and I quickly turned to each other, beaming from ear to ear, like two contestants on the Price is Right.  Did Johnny Olsen really just announce "AMY AND LOU COME ON DOOOOOWWWNNN!"?  I stood from my seat, began to walk forward and joking with another early bird patient, raised my arms in the air, a champion.  Maybe today's the day we can feel normal and go to Chinatown for veggie dim sum or afternoon tea when we're through.  The day is young!

Wait for it...

While I got comfortable in the private chemo room's recliner, my nurse reviewed my vitals.  I'll paraphrase and give you her Cliff's Notes. "Your hemoglobin is 7.6.  We want you at an 8.  Blah, blah blood transfusion (which takes 4 hours minimum) starts at 4:30pm. Blah, blah, let's also get a port study done at 2:30pm."

I wish I could say my first thoughts were "Great!  I'll have more energy after a transfusion" and "Yes!  Let's get down to the bottom of this port business."  But they weren't.  I waited for the nurse to leave the room before I started to cry.  Lou reassured me it was OK but in my mind, we were so close to just chemo'ing up and gettin' out.  You know when the little things start adding up and you feel like you're hitting your breaking point?  Physically I was exhausted and emotionally at that moment, I felt alone, bound in an imaginary straitjacket, struggling to get out. God, I just wanted a fun day with my husband. 

Hey Princess - Yes, I'm talking to me.  Today isn't a punishment, it's for my own good!  Zephaniah 3:17 - The LORD your God is with you, he is mighty to save. He will take great delight in you, he will quiet you with his love, he will rejoice over you with singing.  Am I trusting God as much as I think I am?  Do I understand that He's in control of this entire trial, down to the tiniest details?  Have I really been giving this all to God? 

Apparently, no. 

I'm the toddler giving her Father her broken toy to fix, and then rushing back to take it from His hands when He doesn't fix it as fast as baby girl thinks He should - even though it will remain broken in her own incapable hands.  OK Lord.  Let's work on this.

The Bible, the Word of God contained in 66 amazing books, overflows with power to guide, encourage and strengthen us.  Let's get a sampling to see what it says about our issue of the day, "trust":

• Psalm 91:2 - I will say of the Lord, “He is my refuge and my fortress, my God, in whom I trust.”
• Psalm 56:3 - When I am afraid, I put my trust in you.
• Proverbs 3:5 - Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding.
• Romans 15:13 - May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.

God reminded me of another time I needed to trust Him.

A while back, a seemingly perfect new job opportunity came my way during a time of difficult leadership with an employer.  Several people recommended me for the position.  My years of personal and professional experience was perfect for what they were looking for.  It paid a little less than the job I had, but I was willing to make a "quality of life" move.  I prayed, took a chance and sent my resume in.  An HR rep would e-mail one of their staffers who recommended me that they couldn't even consider my resume.  The one pre-requisite they felt they couldn't do without, which had absolutely nothing to do with the job, was a 4 year degree and I was a college drop out.  In an instant, I felt insignificant and regretted my decision to have left school years earlier.  But if God wanted me to have that job, I would have had that job, just like I got a previous job requiring a degree.  Surely the door was shut for a reason.  I prayed, feeling a little trapped where I was and gave my employment concerns to God.  Several months later, leadership changed for the better where I was working. The position I applied for months earlier, which they never filled, was completely eliminated, leaving other folks I respected out of work.  WOW!  God knew what was coming and He protected me.  Maybe we need to look at these trials of ours, big and small, with different eyes.

When we embrace the challenges we face and just submit to God our 100% of every area in our lives, He'll bring our trust, peace, faith and joy to new heights.  When we make a conscious decision to say "yes" to Jesus, radical things happen, regardless of what we're going through in life.  2 Corinthians 5:17 - Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, the new creation has come: The old has gone, the new is here!

Just to note, two days after my last transfusion, Lou and I had our fun day out at Cha An, one of our favorite little tea houses in Manhattan.  God knew the port and transfusion had to be dealt with before we could have a good time out together, and so that I could also enjoy an uneventful treatment day this week.

A Very Three's Company Christmas Eve

I've come to realize that with the exception of my soft hooded knit wrap, I just don't like things on my head.  I was never a hat person and it doesn't matter how loose I adjust a cap, it feels as though everything squeezes my head like an orange in an old fashioned juicer.  I'll wear a hat for warmth if I'm out, and rip it off of my thinning head the minute I step foot in the car or house.  My wig has been in a plastic ziptop bag since I purchased it, removed only to jokingly model for friends and family, then promptly returned to the sealed pouch.  The more I would take it out and display it, the more I realized I didn't care for the whole idea of it.  I knew for Christmas Eve however, I'd have to put my big girl pants on and wear the "Aunt Millie" wig. 

My brother made an appeal and Lou and I agreed that we wouldn't share my illness with his son until after Christmas.  Up until this point, there was no reason to say anything.  Did my 9 year old nephew need to know his Aunt was having a hysterectomy and would skydive into menopause back in May?  No.  But we agree, with my changing appearance, he's entitled to some information. 

Not unlike a lot of kids, our nephew has always been one keen observer.  When he was 4, nephew and his dad visited our always dapper, now late, Great Uncle Tony, who may have been caught off guard by their earlier than expected visit.   Nephew took one look at Uncle Tony and asked him where his teeth were.  When Uncle Tony replied "They're in the bathroom", my brother's mini-me asked Uncle Tony to go into the bathroom and put his teeth in his mouth.  Want to know if those pants make you look fat?  Ask him, he'll gently tell you.  Nephew is his father's son.  He'll bust your chops if you let him, he's quick with a joke, and he's a love who takes a lot to heart, quietly carrying the burdens of those around him.  And now, after years of shoulder length brown hair, I'm supposed to parade around in front of him and try to pass off a reddish brown old lady wig, tapered to my neck, as my own hair to essentially hide my chemo crew cut.  Knowing him, he'd sooner accept my honest thin pixie hair.  Goodness gracious.  Whatever I've gotten myself into, can I be Chrissy Snow? 

There are two stiff tabs in the back of the wig at the nape of the neck and one on either side, like sideburns, to help guide the wearer where certain points should sit on the head.  Convenient and irritating.  Lou and I arrived at my parents house early so Mom and I could attempt to style the wig.  Mom likes big hair.  I like flat hair.  "Jo, put that bottle if hair spray down!"  A little hair tucked behind the ears, a few strands around my cheeks and it was almost passable in dim light.  No matter how much I wrestled with my conscious, it was too late.  My brother's family was now at the door and Jack Tripper was ready to let them in.  I had the wig on for all of 20 minutes and my scalp was already screaming for air and a scratch.

I made sure to greet my nephew with a standing hug out of fear the wig would shift if he got near my neck.  As soon as I sat down, he glanced at my head and then directly into my eyes before he took his seat across the living room. "The jig is up! He knows!" I thought.  My brother would later tell me his son commented flatly "Aunt Amy has a new hairstyle."  My brother didn't ask if nephew liked the "new" doo, but I can tell by his choice of words nephew snubbed his nose at it.

For the rest of the day, every time my nephew turned his head, I was either scratching or re-adjusting the wig to make sure the guide points were in its place.  I'd catch my sister-in-law's eyes while giving the wig a shift and laugh. Lou would spot me making quick adjustments and give me the "You're making it worse" look from across the room.  I felt a little tired and wanted to nap on the recliner, but couldn't help envision shifting my head in the high back chair and popping the wig off in mid-snore.  I can rest later.

By dinner my scalp was on fire.  I started fantasizing about the soft cap that could have sat comfortably underneath the wig...had I remember to order it.  If etiquette allowed, I would have tucked my fork under the wig and had at it. 

As desert ended, with less than an hour to go before he had to leave, nephew stood at the end of the table, looked me square in the eyes and asked me "Are you sick?".  My heart dropped into the pit of my stomach.  My voice happened to be a little hoarse and I simply replied "Yes".  Was this the start of an interrogation?  Fortunately, it wasn't.  He just accepted the answer and walked away.  Lou put his arm around me and encouraged me to keep it together.  He could tell the pressure of carrying on this charade for 4 hours was eating away at me. 

I'll ask for all to refrain from judgment on this entry (no judgments on this blog in any event).  Nephew is at a stage in life where he just stopped believing in Santa Claus and he's learning that life's not fair.  Oh, to be 9 again...

Christmas Eve Blessed Assurance

Sweet, merciful Savior
Who fulfilled the prophecies of coming Messiah
Who knows our suffering like no other

Who bridged the divide between God and man

You fill my being with peace the moment Your name exits my lips
You've pulled me from the depths of sorrow
Commanding me to love and never fear

Thank You for Your birth!
Thank You for Your death!
Thank You for Your Resurrection!
Thank You for Everlasting Life!

"Blessed Assurance"
Fanny Crosby (1820-1915)
Performed by The Isaacs

My Guest Blog! My Father Cancelled Christmas

I'm a member of two great supportive websites for individuals and young adults fighting and surviving cancer - Stupid Cancer and I Had Cancer. I highly recommend both if you or someone you love is faced with the disease (and I pray you never need them!).  There are certainly many other great sites out there, but I took a personal liking to these two.

It's through YOUR encouragement, love and support my dear family and friends, to keep writing, that I submitted my blog for consideration to I Had Cancer as a guest blogger.  I was asked to consider an entry about Christmas and several weeks ago, submitted the following (events took place during my second chemo treatment).  I thank them very much for the opportunity to encourage others through their site. You can find the edited version on the I Had Cancer website here:  My Father Cancelled Christmas

Below is the full submission (you may recall the antipasta table goody list from my White Hostess Wonder Bread and Christmas Antipasto entry).  I just noticed I spelled antipasta two ways.  Either way I write it, it's always delicious!
____________________________________________________________________________________
My father is a spectacular home cook and a master of the Italian Christmas feast.  Days before the main event he’s perfecting his red sauce and meatballs, frying eggplant and creating succulent, rich lasagna.  Dad works like an animal to make sure everyone has a spectacular meal and a great time. For our family, Christmas is about the birth of our Savior, time together and stuffing our faces until we can’t see straight.

He’s meticulous when he lays out his assortment of proper wine stemware across my mother’s antique deserter.  And to watch him assemble the glorious antipasta table – the meal before the meal – is like watching a true craftsman at work. 

The antipasta table doesn’t offer seating, rather, we prefer to huddle 20 people around a 6 foot table loaded with petite dishes offering selections of  imported prosciutto and cured meats; fresh buffalo mozzarella, tomato and basil; marinated mushrooms; roasted peppers and artichokes; fresh breads, crackers and cheeses; olives and tapenades.  Everything you need to give your pending food coma a solid foundation.

Standing around the antipasta table is where you’re greeted with love, hugs and kisses as family make their way into my childhood home.   Sweet nieces and nephews sit by the tree with a few adults, constructing their gifts.  Sports scores and hearty laughter echoes throughout the house as we all shout stories between rooms. 

Within a few hours the herd moves upstairs for the main event.  You loosen your pants, waddle to a seat and get ready for more.  Desert, coffee and cordials naturally follow dinner, as the matriarchs tidy up and prepare their voices for a bloated chorus of horribly terrific off-key caroling.  My cousin picks up the best Italian Rainbow cookies from Little Italy each year and I’ve carried on the tedious tradition of making the Struffoli, tiny fried balls of dough saturated in orange infused honey.  It’s not Christmas in an Italian home without Struffoli and a table of over the top pastries.

At the end of the night, as half of us drool in an armchair, nodding off for a nap, out comes the loose change.  It's poker time, Cousins vs. Uncles. 

Christmas with my family is simply spectacular.

I was sitting back Wednesday night.  Chemo dripping away.  TV remote in one hand, ham sandwich in another, enjoying the company of my husband and Dad when the bomb dropped.

"We're not having Christmas this year" Dad casually stated.

I’m normally a very rational thinking, considerate person, but if ever I wanted to throw a diva toddler tantrum it was now.  "Who has the audacity to cancel a holiday on an entire family?!  This is ludicrous.  Is it even up for discussion?"

"It's done.  Canceled" replied Dad.

“Are you freaking kidding me?!”  This is madness!   I’m a 36 year old married woman with a mortgage and two cats.  I think I’m entitled to an opinion here.

My dad is a two time colon cancer survivor and if anyone understands how sacred and special each day is, it’s him.  My parents and my husband are my caregivers.  As irate as I was, I had to put the brakes on my anger, take a step back and appreciate that they’re physically and emotionally exhausted.  I've been in and out of the hospital three times over the past month.  Once for Deep Vein Thrombosis, one stay for a pulmonary embolism and most recently this past weekend for a fall due to a lousy throat infection.   As much as we strive to find the humor and blessings in our situation, we’ve been through hell lately.   While I’ll miss our extended family, I have to recognize the sacrifices my caregivers make for me every day and allow us all to have some down time this Christmas.  A scaled down day certainly doesn’t mean we won’t eat well.  Knowing my parents, and I’m so grateful for them, they’ll find a way to make this Christmas memorable and special.