It's been one long week. The usual big bang on Monday with, glad to say, less than the usual nausea, but more than the usual tiredness. Combined with being a socially busy girl, I just didn't have the stamina to do a whole lot more than lie in bed in my 'free' time.
It seems to be the convention to tell someone not to strain, but between that and doing nothing is a world of sloth and potential harm to ones inner beings - the heart, lungs, muscles etc. I know that people mean well when they tell me that "walking is just as good as running", but watching my nearly 87-year-old Dad float through life in the healthiest way, I am not persuaded.
Last week, Dad played his usual 3 games of tennis. He will bashfully and modestly tell you that 'its only doubles these days'!! Which of us could even hit a tennis ball, never mind play a game of it? Three games?? That night, sitting at his kitchen table, he managed to fall and break a rack of ribs. Why and how is still a mystery, but the doctor who examined him said that he is in 'brilliant shape'. How much more important when looking at feeding oneself with ratpoison, chopping out bits and pieces of highly relevant flesh (under the influence of even more poison), and then a 6-week daily dose of microwaving oneself.. than to be fit and in good shape????
So, this week, I can hardly stand up at times and running has been out. Boo Hoo. Hope next week is better.
I watched a movie via Netflix: Death at a Funeral. I am usually a big fan of foreign, especially British cinema, but this was horrible: a series of gags, something between Benny Hill and a soap opera. Don't bother.
Going stir crazy with house arrest, I tried to arrange a w/e for the boss and myself in Sarasota. It didn't work out, so as a consolation, we planned a trip to South Beach this morning. In celebration, the skies clouded over big time and, sure enough, the rain came down in buckets, non stop. Our car swam the hour's journey in zero visibility. The rain didn't let up after we arrived, so we went for a big Cuban breakfast and then, the weather did change - it got worse. Despite a huge umbrella, we got damper and damper and I got grouchier and grouchier, so it was clearly time to call off the whole thing.
Like the 3 little piggies, we are home again. Jiggity Jig. Old slippers on the foetsies, Reuven deep in an armchair and deeper into the basketball. Jimmi happy as a sandboy to see us. Is that the sun I see coming out?
Sunday, April 29, 2012
Wednesday, April 25, 2012
some dilemmas
Yesterday, I had an appointment with my wonderful oncologist, Dr B. I did have some questions relating to aggressive, stage IV cancer, but what was uppermost on our minds was the matter of my bathroom scale reaching apexes not dreamed of to date. I was hoping for a verdict of 'it's the steroids', but no: I was told that it has to do with my age and how much I eat. Horror!! Does anyone out there think I should change doctors (no - not even in a joke), but what should I do??? There is no answer that I want to hear: the d..t word is not part of my lexicon and the alternative of being told that in my condition it's good to put on weight is beneath discussion. Really! Does being a fat cancer patient feel nicer than being a thin one? What about my clothes: I can't fit into anything - in fact my jeans are doing the splits at a number of strategic locations. Should people with cancer buy new clothes? After all, we don't know what the future holds, do we?! Might never get a chance to wear them.
On that subject, ie our mortality: had a discussion with IR, who is visiting from Israel. She refuses to comtemplate the matter, being of the opinion that there is no proof of anything afterwards /greater than us and noone in their right mind should consider the topic. I asked about the majority of the world's population who Do believe in something greater than themselves, whatever they call IT, but she would not consider the possibility. So, I've not made any progress on the subject. I don't believe it's so clear-cut, especially for people who have faced their mortality, as she has not.
I can't make up my mind whether to try to get out for a walk/run this morning. I've been awake since well before 5am, having 'phone bids from overseas, not that it was worth wasting sleep on them since the one item I really wanted went for an arm and a leg. Of course, I'm sorry not to have bought it, since it was really unusual and had every desireable quality I could ask for. But, there are limits.
I do like being out early, with the birds to keep my company. I love to listen to them chattering in their different voices, especially when the weather is good and cool, and before my huffing and puffing drowns out the rest of the world. Maybe I'll wake up poor JH, who missed yesterday and often looks so desperate to get out of the house for a good airing.
On that subject, ie our mortality: had a discussion with IR, who is visiting from Israel. She refuses to comtemplate the matter, being of the opinion that there is no proof of anything afterwards /greater than us and noone in their right mind should consider the topic. I asked about the majority of the world's population who Do believe in something greater than themselves, whatever they call IT, but she would not consider the possibility. So, I've not made any progress on the subject. I don't believe it's so clear-cut, especially for people who have faced their mortality, as she has not.
I can't make up my mind whether to try to get out for a walk/run this morning. I've been awake since well before 5am, having 'phone bids from overseas, not that it was worth wasting sleep on them since the one item I really wanted went for an arm and a leg. Of course, I'm sorry not to have bought it, since it was really unusual and had every desireable quality I could ask for. But, there are limits.
I do like being out early, with the birds to keep my company. I love to listen to them chattering in their different voices, especially when the weather is good and cool, and before my huffing and puffing drowns out the rest of the world. Maybe I'll wake up poor JH, who missed yesterday and often looks so desperate to get out of the house for a good airing.
Sunday, April 22, 2012
This morning, Reuven and I took JH to the park behind our house for a walk. After trying to drive in two directions at once, Reuven managed to land us parked near a golf course, alongside a little bunny rabbit that hopped accross the road, just being missed by a single speeding car. Alongside was a marvellous woodsy area with a lot of indigenous plants, tiny flowers and lots of ponds, ducks and wading birds. JH had a marvellous time - his excitement was palpable and we really enjoyed ourselves until a mean golfer started screaming at us with sarcasm, to get off the golf course paths.
When I sleep in my Dad's house in Somerset West, I'm normally awakened by the morning sun that nothing can stop coming through the curtains. Simultaneously, one is aware of doves cooing somewhere outside. It's a very special noise that I associate with the early morning peace and quiet. WHile two places could not be more dis-similar than Boca Raton and a quiet spot in the Western Cape, one commonality is the cooing doves. It's amazing how a sound can result in a physical response - telling me that all is well with the world and it can be a very beautiful place.
Another beautiful sound for me is listening to my wonderful yoga teacher, Val. When she talks about the connection of mind-body-emotion, it is so real. When I try to do yoga on my own, rare as it is, I just don't get that sense of one-ness with the universe. In fact, it's a trial, which may explain why I don't do it often enough. Nothing like shutting off from the rest of the world and gently moving to the directions of a great lady teacher. Now, to apply that to my trips to the supermarket and the rest of the world.
When I sleep in my Dad's house in Somerset West, I'm normally awakened by the morning sun that nothing can stop coming through the curtains. Simultaneously, one is aware of doves cooing somewhere outside. It's a very special noise that I associate with the early morning peace and quiet. WHile two places could not be more dis-similar than Boca Raton and a quiet spot in the Western Cape, one commonality is the cooing doves. It's amazing how a sound can result in a physical response - telling me that all is well with the world and it can be a very beautiful place.
Another beautiful sound for me is listening to my wonderful yoga teacher, Val. When she talks about the connection of mind-body-emotion, it is so real. When I try to do yoga on my own, rare as it is, I just don't get that sense of one-ness with the universe. In fact, it's a trial, which may explain why I don't do it often enough. Nothing like shutting off from the rest of the world and gently moving to the directions of a great lady teacher. Now, to apply that to my trips to the supermarket and the rest of the world.
April 22nd
It was bound to happen sooner or later. With one in two men getting cancer and one in 3 women, how long before someone else I know got the nasty diagnosis? (statistics heard on a tv ad). Suddenly, I am the 'old hand'. Pretty weird. Just as everyone's cancer is different, everyone's response is too, and my friend S dives into reading up whatever she can about her illness. I remain determinedly ignorant. Now, I'm watching what happened to me, happen to her. It's a little like having an echo that involves your whole life instead of sound alone. It's like hearing your voice come back to you when someone has their speakerphone on - replay of what you just experienced. S is wonderfully strong and has all her skittles lined up, so I'm sure that she is going to do very well and I look forward to lots of fun times together for many years to come.
On Wednesday night, after playing about 4 games of tennis, my father, who will be 87 in October, fell and broke 6-7 ribs. The number keeps going up. I would have liked to be on a 'plane going out to see him, but obviously, that was out of the question as I can't travel by 'plane these days. Dad was kept in hospital for a few days to ensure that he didn't get pneumonia, but yesterday, was released and is now starting to recouperate. Anyone who has ever broken a rib can verify how horribly painful it is and Dad has so many of them. Hope he heals fast and well. I'm told that he was enquiring about going to the gym on Monday. Ha - that sure ain't gonna happen - not for a while yet.
Last Sunday afternoon, we went to see the Israeli movie, "Footnote". Normally, I'm impressed with most Israeli movies I see, but this one was contrived and just didn't make it to the bar. Poorly done, mixed acting with the woman actresses much better than the men, who had the main roles. We did gobble up two huge buckets of popcorn between 3 of us.
The Lady seems to have disappeared before we had a chance to see it. Could it have been showing for one day only? Will have to order it from Netflix.
To wake up anyone reading this who has had enough of doom and gloom, here is a wonderful link, sent to me by JH (same initials as wunderhund, but actually a fabulous Scottish lady). Scroll down and read what happens to men who, as usual, do not listen to instructions.
I hope this gives you all a good start to the coming week.
On Wednesday night, after playing about 4 games of tennis, my father, who will be 87 in October, fell and broke 6-7 ribs. The number keeps going up. I would have liked to be on a 'plane going out to see him, but obviously, that was out of the question as I can't travel by 'plane these days. Dad was kept in hospital for a few days to ensure that he didn't get pneumonia, but yesterday, was released and is now starting to recouperate. Anyone who has ever broken a rib can verify how horribly painful it is and Dad has so many of them. Hope he heals fast and well. I'm told that he was enquiring about going to the gym on Monday. Ha - that sure ain't gonna happen - not for a while yet.
Last Sunday afternoon, we went to see the Israeli movie, "Footnote". Normally, I'm impressed with most Israeli movies I see, but this one was contrived and just didn't make it to the bar. Poorly done, mixed acting with the woman actresses much better than the men, who had the main roles. We did gobble up two huge buckets of popcorn between 3 of us.
The Lady seems to have disappeared before we had a chance to see it. Could it have been showing for one day only? Will have to order it from Netflix.
To wake up anyone reading this who has had enough of doom and gloom, here is a wonderful link, sent to me by JH (same initials as wunderhund, but actually a fabulous Scottish lady). Scroll down and read what happens to men who, as usual, do not listen to instructions.
I hope this gives you all a good start to the coming week.
Wednesday, April 18, 2012
In all fairness
I've already written about Reuven's comment that since my diagnosis in January, it's been like a party in our house. We have had tremendous support and lots and lots of visitors. It's been a lot of fun and definately helped me get through with great ease.
But in all fairness, you can't live your life in a constant state of high. You have to have some lower landmarks from which to measure the 'ups'. You have to have the relative 'downs' in order to appreciate the 'ups'. It is all relative and this week's mood is far from what could ever be called 'down', but it is relatively quiet and even a little irritable.
For someone who sometimes hardly touch the ground before the next trip out of town/country, it's been a long, long time staying home. No exciting shows or cities, new cultures to watch and enjoy. I get the invitations with their beautiful pictures and drool, but I am going to be here for a while longer. Just writing this makes me realise just how spoiled I am and that it's time to adjust the attitude. I remember once reading an essay about a guy who 'travelled' from the comfy armchair in his home: he read travel books. Not sure whether that is the answer for me, but there has to be one and it's my new job to find it.
What I really wanted to say is that life isn't all ups and that it's ok and necessary and good to have downs. It's up to us what we make of them and how we cope with them and we should appreciate them for what they teach us. I hope that by next week, or much sooner, I will have worked out some kind of answer for myself. You can work out the answer that best suits you.
But in all fairness, you can't live your life in a constant state of high. You have to have some lower landmarks from which to measure the 'ups'. You have to have the relative 'downs' in order to appreciate the 'ups'. It is all relative and this week's mood is far from what could ever be called 'down', but it is relatively quiet and even a little irritable.
For someone who sometimes hardly touch the ground before the next trip out of town/country, it's been a long, long time staying home. No exciting shows or cities, new cultures to watch and enjoy. I get the invitations with their beautiful pictures and drool, but I am going to be here for a while longer. Just writing this makes me realise just how spoiled I am and that it's time to adjust the attitude. I remember once reading an essay about a guy who 'travelled' from the comfy armchair in his home: he read travel books. Not sure whether that is the answer for me, but there has to be one and it's my new job to find it.
What I really wanted to say is that life isn't all ups and that it's ok and necessary and good to have downs. It's up to us what we make of them and how we cope with them and we should appreciate them for what they teach us. I hope that by next week, or much sooner, I will have worked out some kind of answer for myself. You can work out the answer that best suits you.
Sunday, April 15, 2012
Vis oogies
When my late mother had chemotherapy, many years ago, she complained about having "vis oogies". For anyone out there who actually doesn't speak fluent Afrikaans, this translates to "small fish eyes". What my appearance-conscience Mom was referring to, was the strange look of eyes without lashes and brows.
But is it? Maybe it's something else. My own ocular related fuzz has not entirely disappeared, but when I pass by a mirror, get a glimpse of the old bag out there, I think vis oogies is an apt description. Has anyone else noticed this phenomenon and if so, how do you explain it?
On the grand scale of things, I can't begin to guess how important all of this is, but yet again, chemo gives us opportunities for unexplored self occupation. We are absorbed by the effects on our skin, our muscles, our alimentary canals. The latter is one of my most recent hobby horses.
What is important, and I keep forgetting to mention, is that my brca tests were both negative. This adds to the mystery of how/why both Mom and I got cancer. In the light of the latter, what does it mean for my children? Negative for the gene, but postive for the disease.....?
I've had a very interesting experience: after constant guests and a household full of people for almost two weeks, I had my first taste of 'home alone', while Reuven and the girls (Lee and Avital) went to Boston and New York. As anyone can tell you, I am not capable of walking and chewing gum at the same time, so my brain definately needs down time, in which to string a few coherent thoughts together on any and all subjects. I'm not decrying the fun times of being busy and occupied, but the quiet was a real blessing for a few days, or should I say hours, because most of the time I was not, in fact alone - yesterday was spent having fun with friends from morn to beddy-byes.
I'm slowly catching up and unscrambling the mess and mush of my mind and by the time the family walks in somewhere around 1pm today, I'll be ready to face the onslaught.
But is it? Maybe it's something else. My own ocular related fuzz has not entirely disappeared, but when I pass by a mirror, get a glimpse of the old bag out there, I think vis oogies is an apt description. Has anyone else noticed this phenomenon and if so, how do you explain it?
On the grand scale of things, I can't begin to guess how important all of this is, but yet again, chemo gives us opportunities for unexplored self occupation. We are absorbed by the effects on our skin, our muscles, our alimentary canals. The latter is one of my most recent hobby horses.
What is important, and I keep forgetting to mention, is that my brca tests were both negative. This adds to the mystery of how/why both Mom and I got cancer. In the light of the latter, what does it mean for my children? Negative for the gene, but postive for the disease.....?
I've had a very interesting experience: after constant guests and a household full of people for almost two weeks, I had my first taste of 'home alone', while Reuven and the girls (Lee and Avital) went to Boston and New York. As anyone can tell you, I am not capable of walking and chewing gum at the same time, so my brain definately needs down time, in which to string a few coherent thoughts together on any and all subjects. I'm not decrying the fun times of being busy and occupied, but the quiet was a real blessing for a few days, or should I say hours, because most of the time I was not, in fact alone - yesterday was spent having fun with friends from morn to beddy-byes.
I'm slowly catching up and unscrambling the mess and mush of my mind and by the time the family walks in somewhere around 1pm today, I'll be ready to face the onslaught.
Tuesday, April 10, 2012
There are days when life is like a roller-coaster that never stops: we race along the tracks with no ability to get off and no time to stop and smell the roses. I don't think that's bad by definition, so long as we are enjoying events and can look forward to some down time down the road.
Our house has been abuzz with the children and guests, starting on Thursday and continueing... Last night, we folded approx 1am. This doesn't leave me much time for quiet thought and reflection, but somehow, betwixt and between, I did notice a few things.
Firstly, more than one person has reported unusual dreams. Is it because we are going through the holiday period (Passover and Easter) that people are more spiritually and emotionally introspective and this leads to more dreaming? Has anyone else been dreaming unusual dreams?
Secondly, there have been some strange coincidences and cosmic intersections of unlikely points. Same questions - coincidence and who else? Bits and pieces of the past have reemerged and popped up in the present. For example, people I lost touch with long ago, making contact. For me, it's wonderful when the past meets up with the present.
Ultimately, are we all connected like the kharmic claim?
My son was explaining to me that in Zen Buddhism there are no rules and no generalisations. If that's the truth, then how are these coincidences explained. Maybe there is a greater truth of some form out there. We might never know, but it's a good tangent to explore.
Our house has been abuzz with the children and guests, starting on Thursday and continueing... Last night, we folded approx 1am. This doesn't leave me much time for quiet thought and reflection, but somehow, betwixt and between, I did notice a few things.
Firstly, more than one person has reported unusual dreams. Is it because we are going through the holiday period (Passover and Easter) that people are more spiritually and emotionally introspective and this leads to more dreaming? Has anyone else been dreaming unusual dreams?
Secondly, there have been some strange coincidences and cosmic intersections of unlikely points. Same questions - coincidence and who else? Bits and pieces of the past have reemerged and popped up in the present. For example, people I lost touch with long ago, making contact. For me, it's wonderful when the past meets up with the present.
Ultimately, are we all connected like the kharmic claim?
My son was explaining to me that in Zen Buddhism there are no rules and no generalisations. If that's the truth, then how are these coincidences explained. Maybe there is a greater truth of some form out there. We might never know, but it's a good tangent to explore.
Thursday, April 5, 2012
Just another day
Sometimes we are in a rush to tell a story or share an opinion, but most of the time, nothing special is going on. Really, these are the days we should be most grateful for. Even if we think we need news and excitement every 5 minutes.
Yes, Monday was my 4th big chemo - the half-way point of this section. Slowly, the reality of surgery begins to dawn, but I'm avoiding thinking about that for now. Everything in it's time and place. I'm lucky: I feel pretty good on the whole. Today, as expected had it's weak moments with me actually bursting into tears because I couldn't open the food processor. A good cry is so comforting. I love it. Got over it pretty fast, especially after a brief nap, which left me feeling a great deal sturdier. I think those pills (Zofran) are making me very shaky. I'm taking less of them than usual and it seems to help. In fact, no big surprise - less meds is better in lots of cases: I had half the Benadryl and no Atavan on Monday and felt way better than last time. Just before I bore you to oblivion, I will mention that my liver functions are 'up' and that is a cause to be happy too (for anyone who read last Friday).
Biggest and most important news: all 4 children will be home tonight. Adam is already here and has been shloffing with JH on Reuven's bed. I took a great 'photo and will add it later. Avital and Reuven are caught in major traffic conjestion on the I95 en route from the airport. And, much, much later, I hope that Guy and Lee will come in from North and Central Florida, respectively. Guy from UF and Lee from the Florida Science Fair finals. Maybe, by this time tomorrow, I'll be ready to ship the whole bunch off, but I can't wait to see them all at once.
We are not having a huge seder tomorrow night, but we are having a seder. I promised - and I have already made the gefilte fish and the chopped liver (the latter with the food processor that wouldn't open). Tomorrow, some more easy cooking and setting up the tables. Taking it quite easy. I'm looking forward to chomping on the matza, even if it's hugely constipating.
As they say: it never rains, but it pours: our microwave, always faulty, will be yet another eon before getting fixed. The freezer door isn't closing properly, so we have a heavy collection of ice covering everything inside - impossible to recognise a bag of peas from a frozen burrito. May these be our greatest problems in life.!!
Yes, Monday was my 4th big chemo - the half-way point of this section. Slowly, the reality of surgery begins to dawn, but I'm avoiding thinking about that for now. Everything in it's time and place. I'm lucky: I feel pretty good on the whole. Today, as expected had it's weak moments with me actually bursting into tears because I couldn't open the food processor. A good cry is so comforting. I love it. Got over it pretty fast, especially after a brief nap, which left me feeling a great deal sturdier. I think those pills (Zofran) are making me very shaky. I'm taking less of them than usual and it seems to help. In fact, no big surprise - less meds is better in lots of cases: I had half the Benadryl and no Atavan on Monday and felt way better than last time. Just before I bore you to oblivion, I will mention that my liver functions are 'up' and that is a cause to be happy too (for anyone who read last Friday).
Biggest and most important news: all 4 children will be home tonight. Adam is already here and has been shloffing with JH on Reuven's bed. I took a great 'photo and will add it later. Avital and Reuven are caught in major traffic conjestion on the I95 en route from the airport. And, much, much later, I hope that Guy and Lee will come in from North and Central Florida, respectively. Guy from UF and Lee from the Florida Science Fair finals. Maybe, by this time tomorrow, I'll be ready to ship the whole bunch off, but I can't wait to see them all at once.
We are not having a huge seder tomorrow night, but we are having a seder. I promised - and I have already made the gefilte fish and the chopped liver (the latter with the food processor that wouldn't open). Tomorrow, some more easy cooking and setting up the tables. Taking it quite easy. I'm looking forward to chomping on the matza, even if it's hugely constipating.
As they say: it never rains, but it pours: our microwave, always faulty, will be yet another eon before getting fixed. The freezer door isn't closing properly, so we have a heavy collection of ice covering everything inside - impossible to recognise a bag of peas from a frozen burrito. May these be our greatest problems in life.!!
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