Worries Aplenty Abound

It always seems to work out that whenever one thing goes south several others follow suit. I know I am not the only person to feel this way, but I do feel my family does seem to have a slightly more tragic bent during some of these times than many others (and not as tragic as some, as well!). My personal time is extremely difficult but survivable in and of itself. It is just when it looks like other disturbing things maybe added to the mix that it begins to feel so unbearable.

So anyone reading this will know what I am referring to,I learned earlier today that my grandmother was supposedly not doing too well. That then led to tears and depressive thoughts about making that last trip up to see her for the last time, etc. It was not until I spoke with my stepmother and learned my grandmother was, at that very minute, beating the pants off the both of them at Mexican Poker that I was able to relax and cease worrying, at least for the time being. Having cancer sucks! It takes my mind away from so much I need to get done and so many people I love and want to spend time with! It makes me want to scream or rant or something!

With that off of my chest (soon to be joined by my...ahem!), I have also been wanting to mention for the past two days the redwinged blackbirds I saw in a small field along the highway as I drove home from my appointment with the plastic surgeon. They cling to the dead reeds like little sailors might cling to a ship's mast, only they look like they are dressed as admirals in jaunty black velvet with red epaulets trimmed in gold. They seem to be gazing so bravely into the future it heartens me just to catch sight of any of them, especially on a sunny day with a light wind blowing, bobbing them about in their oceans of dried grasses and wild flower stems. It would not surprise me to see a whale blow in the distance although it might take the shoppers in the mall parking lot a bit off guard.

Another, not unexpected, development is that following the mastectomies and before any chemo would begin should it be required, I will be having another surgery to remove my reproductive apparatus also. As long as my ovaries are in place any breast tissue that may be left will be at a greater risk for a recurrance of breast cancer and there is also a slightly increased risk with our particular genetic mutation of developing ovarian cancer, which is very difficult to detect before it has gotten out of hand and untreatable. Also, if I end up taking Tamoxifin (?spl.) there could be a risk of its causing uterine cancer. The only remedy or prevention is to remove the potential organs involved before this can happen. Even though these particular body parts are not visible, as such, it is still difficult knowing even more of my body must be removed in order to try to prevent this cancer problem from recurring repeatedly. It does seem a small price to pay in the long run, but no less difficult to deal with in the here and now of my upcoming surgeries.

The plastic surgeon turned out to be someone I felt very at ease with and he was very frank about the procedure and the likely results, possible complications, etc., which I appreciated greatly. He did mention one bonus to having the implants versus using prostheses is that you would not be as likely to lose one or both of the implants should you go swimming or be doing anything else sufficiently active to jar the things loose. I did feel some rather wicked amusement at the thought of having to ask the life guard to retrieve a lost prosthesis should that happen..."Excuse me young man, but could you please see if you could retrieve my...for me? I think it's in the deep end of the pool." It would be that or the experience of seeing it float by before one realized it had escaped its moorings. (It should be noted here that I know ABSOLUTELY NOTHING about breast prostheses as this is all very new to me and I have not asked about or seen any of them and have no clue as to what they are made of, how they are kept in place - other than by the brassiere - and so forth.)

(**Note** I realize many women may not see the humor in these potential situations that I am finding. I merely ask them all to remember that I, too, am facing the same surgeries and permanent disfiguration to my own body with all of the attending emotional traumas and issues. I choose to find the humor and laugh rather than feeling ashamed, embarrassed, too depressed, or as if I am somehow being too insensitive to the needs and feelings of others during my own experience. I am not talking about anyone else's body or thoughts, nor am I criticizing anyone else's choices or points of view, merely asking them for the same latitude I give to them for myself.)

A friend went with me to that appointment and it really was so nice having someone else there in the car for the drive up and back and to have her with me in the doctor's office during the discussion phase of the appointment. It really means more to me than I ever realized it would to have that moral support and companionship for these moments while all of this looms so forbodingly near. She also mentioned as many of the good points of the situation as she could, for which I am also grateful.

All things studied from each angle, I feel fairly fortunate overall. I have family and friends who love me and are trying to be there for me as much as possible. My boyfriend has been supportive and very sweet about a lot of stuff he normally tends to not think about too much, and the cats are always a comfort although I hope to discover why Mottle has been trying to sit on my face for the past three days when she does not look sore in the area in question and is not showing any other symptoms seemingly pertinent to such behavior. Where is "Mewzlo" when you need him?

Tomorrow I will be traveling to the state mental hospital to visit my brother. He has requested a cholesterol burger and an artery-blocker shake, but I suspect the hospital may have been overinundating him with healthier fare and he is having withdrawal symptoms. I'll make sure it's a small chocolate shake, and no french fries! It's likely there will be little conversation because, while Mike can talk a blue streak on the telephone, in person the flow of words becomes stilted and, often, nonexistent. A lot depends on his state of mind at the time, too. If he has been taking his medications regularly the chances for a real conversation are greater than otherwise but I will have to wait and see what he's like when I get there. He's aware that I have cancer and will be having surgery but, after losing our sister two years ago, Mike seems to have retreated somewhere he never went before, possibly somewhere where Patty still lives and my illness cannot worry him so much. I hope he is able to return someday and know some of the joys and rewards of living in the "real" world before he too, must join mother, sister, grandfather, and others that have passed before. At least in that world my brother will be whole again. Of that much I am certain

Blessings upon all who venture here. Happiness and much love.

Izzlebug