It goes without saying that I can not believe it has been 2 years since that fateful day when my Dr. called and simply said, "It's cancer".
You know that sound your TV used to make when you turned it on late at night as a kid. Black and white snow buzzing with such intensity it usually made you jump.
That's what hearing the words, "you have cancer" feels like.
And it feels that way for a good hour or so.
I assume it is the rush of adrenaline that your brain has a hard time processing that causes the world around you to disappear, and for the buzzing to start.
When I reminded Doug what today was, he said, "is that something you want to celebrate?".
And I thought - yes it is.
I want to celebrate all of you who:
Cut braids
Shaved my head
Sat with me at Chemo
Took care of my kids
Sent me cards
Cooked meals
Read my blog
Said my boobs looked good
Brought me funny movies
Spent one moment praying to whomever you pray to for my well being
It is not something I ever want to go through again - but I am glad I had each of you to help me along the way.
Heal and Deal
Thursday, April 25, 2013
Wednesday, April 17, 2013
I have a new hero
Let's move past how long it has been since I last wrote shall we? Chalk it up to what I am calling my great big fat cancer hangover. Gladly I feel like it is moving on.
Now on to my new hero.
Monday I came home from work with a touch of the flu. Sometimes it is best to call it a day and go undercover.
My sick day ritual is simply put on comfy pi's, lay in bed, and sleep.
When I woke up and popped open my computer I was shocked to see that a bomb had gone off at the Boston Marathon.
The very first thing I saw was the image of the man in the cowboy hat helping the young man who, as I learned later from an un-cropped photo, lost both of his legs.
I assumed that the pair were friends. That one friend happened to be in the wrongest of wrong places, at the wrong time, and somehow his friend, was, well, not.
At the time we knew from media reports that there had been 2 casualties, so when it was later announced that 3 people had died, I wondered what happened to the guy in the photo.
Today I learned his name, Jeff Bauman Jr. And that he survived, having both legs surgically amputated above the knee.
I also learned his friend was actually a stranger. A man named Carlos Arredondo who has seen his fair share of pain and tragedy. One son killed in Iraq, during his second tour of duty, and another by his own hand after spiraling into an unfathomable depression after his brothers death.
He was at the marathon supporting the runners and handing out American Flags to spectators.
You see, after his sons died, Carlos decided to dedicate his life to PEACE.
I think it is time for more of us to do the same.
Now on to my new hero.
Monday I came home from work with a touch of the flu. Sometimes it is best to call it a day and go undercover.
My sick day ritual is simply put on comfy pi's, lay in bed, and sleep.
When I woke up and popped open my computer I was shocked to see that a bomb had gone off at the Boston Marathon.
The very first thing I saw was the image of the man in the cowboy hat helping the young man who, as I learned later from an un-cropped photo, lost both of his legs.
I assumed that the pair were friends. That one friend happened to be in the wrongest of wrong places, at the wrong time, and somehow his friend, was, well, not.
At the time we knew from media reports that there had been 2 casualties, so when it was later announced that 3 people had died, I wondered what happened to the guy in the photo.
Today I learned his name, Jeff Bauman Jr. And that he survived, having both legs surgically amputated above the knee.
I also learned his friend was actually a stranger. A man named Carlos Arredondo who has seen his fair share of pain and tragedy. One son killed in Iraq, during his second tour of duty, and another by his own hand after spiraling into an unfathomable depression after his brothers death.
He was at the marathon supporting the runners and handing out American Flags to spectators.
You see, after his sons died, Carlos decided to dedicate his life to PEACE.
I think it is time for more of us to do the same.
Wednesday, March 6, 2013
tests tests tests
So today I had a bone density test. No need to be alarmed, simply a test I need to have because of the medication I am on.
3 things I liked about this test:
1. I didn't have to take my clothes off or put on a dumb hospital gown (seriously...gown? I think not).
2. I waited literally 30 seconds before I was called into the examination room.
3. The test took about 5 minutes.
3 things I did not like:
1. It was in the same office where I had my biopsy, almost 2 years ago, and you know the rest.
2. The only open parking spot was where I parked my car, almost 2 years ago, and where I retreated and cried harder than any time in my life after what I thought was going to be a mammogram ended being far more evasive and scary.
3. That I had to be there at all.
Like a good friend, and breast cancer survivor said to me today, "I could do it again if I have to, I just don't ever want to have to."
Heal and Deal
3 things I liked about this test:
1. I didn't have to take my clothes off or put on a dumb hospital gown (seriously...gown? I think not).
2. I waited literally 30 seconds before I was called into the examination room.
3. The test took about 5 minutes.
3 things I did not like:
1. It was in the same office where I had my biopsy, almost 2 years ago, and you know the rest.
2. The only open parking spot was where I parked my car, almost 2 years ago, and where I retreated and cried harder than any time in my life after what I thought was going to be a mammogram ended being far more evasive and scary.
3. That I had to be there at all.
Like a good friend, and breast cancer survivor said to me today, "I could do it again if I have to, I just don't ever want to have to."
Heal and Deal
Wednesday, February 27, 2013
Family
My mother was the oldest of 4 kids, and the only girl, until, in her teens, she became the oldest of 6 kids.
Suddenly, out of no where she had a sister. And because her parents didn't want baby #5 to be lonely, they decided to have another, and sister #2 was born.
This created a pretty fun family dynamic. I have Aunts who are not that much older than me, who then gave me cousins, who are a lot younger than me.
We have first cousins who are super close to their second cousins because they are all around the same age.
And my young cousins sometimes get confused and think of me and my sisters as their aunts, which I like just fine.
Oklahoma is where all of my mother's family lives - including all the little cousins. It is a place synonyms with my childhood, and as I have said before, even after traveling the world, it is one of my favorite places in the world.
The people who know my life history live there.
So I was thrilled when my mom called to say that our baby cousin Bailey (not a baby any more) was engaged, and had set a wedding date for this summer.
Not that I needed an excuse to get to Oklahoma - but sometimes life gets so busy we forget to do the things that make us happiest.
Suddenly, out of no where she had a sister. And because her parents didn't want baby #5 to be lonely, they decided to have another, and sister #2 was born.
This created a pretty fun family dynamic. I have Aunts who are not that much older than me, who then gave me cousins, who are a lot younger than me.
We have first cousins who are super close to their second cousins because they are all around the same age.
And my young cousins sometimes get confused and think of me and my sisters as their aunts, which I like just fine.
Oklahoma is where all of my mother's family lives - including all the little cousins. It is a place synonyms with my childhood, and as I have said before, even after traveling the world, it is one of my favorite places in the world.
The people who know my life history live there.
So I was thrilled when my mom called to say that our baby cousin Bailey (not a baby any more) was engaged, and had set a wedding date for this summer.
Not that I needed an excuse to get to Oklahoma - but sometimes life gets so busy we forget to do the things that make us happiest.
Sunday, February 17, 2013
Sherpa
As anyone who ski's knows, a day at the slopes is a terrific way to spend some time.
What they also know is, the amount of gear required to make your day enjoyable is terrifying.
skis, poles, pants, jacket, thermal this and that, gloves, socks, boots, warm hat, goggles.
When you are taking 3 kids up to the mountain, you begin to question your sanity.
Watching Doug, or as I would like to call him, Sherpa Dad, carry his skis, two pairs of ski's for the Ha's, and Graham's snowboard toward the mountain today renewed my faith in humanity.
This faith was tested as I tried to herd my herd towards their lessons. When my children get out in the open they act like newly sprung deaf butterflies. Each goes wandering in separate directions from the others, with no true destination in mind, and zero ability to here simple directions unless they are said in a voice I didn't realize I had until Graham turned 3.
I always wonder what the helicopter parents think of me as I toss jackets, helmets, gloves, in the general direction of my butterflies, and rely on the kindness of strangers to get them ready for a day on the mountain.
A lot of parents hang around and watch as their kids get settled in their lesson. Doug and I make sure we have at least made eye contact with the instructor before we go barreling toward the chair lift.
Skiing for me feels like freedom. I love to find myself all alone on a run, swooshing towards the bottom.
Today was one of those days.
Until the reality of getting 3 tired, hungry, cold children off the mountain woke us from a magical spell.
As we were heading home Doug wondered if the kids would ever realize all the work we put into sharing skiing with them.
And I said they would, when they became their children's Sherpa.
What they also know is, the amount of gear required to make your day enjoyable is terrifying.
skis, poles, pants, jacket, thermal this and that, gloves, socks, boots, warm hat, goggles.
When you are taking 3 kids up to the mountain, you begin to question your sanity.
Watching Doug, or as I would like to call him, Sherpa Dad, carry his skis, two pairs of ski's for the Ha's, and Graham's snowboard toward the mountain today renewed my faith in humanity.
This faith was tested as I tried to herd my herd towards their lessons. When my children get out in the open they act like newly sprung deaf butterflies. Each goes wandering in separate directions from the others, with no true destination in mind, and zero ability to here simple directions unless they are said in a voice I didn't realize I had until Graham turned 3.
I always wonder what the helicopter parents think of me as I toss jackets, helmets, gloves, in the general direction of my butterflies, and rely on the kindness of strangers to get them ready for a day on the mountain.
A lot of parents hang around and watch as their kids get settled in their lesson. Doug and I make sure we have at least made eye contact with the instructor before we go barreling toward the chair lift.
Skiing for me feels like freedom. I love to find myself all alone on a run, swooshing towards the bottom.
Today was one of those days.
Until the reality of getting 3 tired, hungry, cold children off the mountain woke us from a magical spell.
As we were heading home Doug wondered if the kids would ever realize all the work we put into sharing skiing with them.
And I said they would, when they became their children's Sherpa.
Wednesday, February 13, 2013
Love
I have a friend who is an emergency room Dr. He is working on Valentine's Day, and was telling me that he expected it to be a busy night.
It seems that February 14th causes people to either feel bad that they are not in love, or bad about the person they are in love with. And when it comes to matters of the heart, passions are unleashed and let's just say those passions do not always bring out the best in people.
Not to seem like a bitter old lady, but I have always felt that Valentine's Day was a bunch of silliness to begin with.
For the Eikenkids it is a family holiday. We go out to dinner together, each kid gets a box of conversation hearts, and we exchange Valentines. For those love birds out there, looking to spend a quite evening staring into each others eyes, might I suggest you avoid Pastini's on NW 23rd tomorrow night.
Unless of coarse you are looking for a reminder to use birth control.
But I digress.
If for some reason you are feeling that you don't have the right love in your life don't let what amounts to a marketing plan to sell more chocolates and roses lead you to feel bad about yourself.
Take yourself, your friends, your neighbor out to dinner. Exchange some pleasantries.
Just don't end up in the Emergency Room.
Or Pastini's on NW 23rd for that matter.
It seems that February 14th causes people to either feel bad that they are not in love, or bad about the person they are in love with. And when it comes to matters of the heart, passions are unleashed and let's just say those passions do not always bring out the best in people.
Not to seem like a bitter old lady, but I have always felt that Valentine's Day was a bunch of silliness to begin with.
For the Eikenkids it is a family holiday. We go out to dinner together, each kid gets a box of conversation hearts, and we exchange Valentines. For those love birds out there, looking to spend a quite evening staring into each others eyes, might I suggest you avoid Pastini's on NW 23rd tomorrow night.
Unless of coarse you are looking for a reminder to use birth control.
But I digress.
If for some reason you are feeling that you don't have the right love in your life don't let what amounts to a marketing plan to sell more chocolates and roses lead you to feel bad about yourself.
Take yourself, your friends, your neighbor out to dinner. Exchange some pleasantries.
Just don't end up in the Emergency Room.
Or Pastini's on NW 23rd for that matter.
Wednesday, February 6, 2013
where am I?
Lately I have been experiencing two divergent realities.
In one I am always the girl with cancer, in the other I am the girl who surprises people when she says that she did.
The girl with cancer lives mostly in my private life.
That life is still full of Dr's appointments ("any change in your health in the last year?").
That life finds me running into friends who I only see once in a while who tend to have whispered conversations with me over the din of my children asking, conspiratorially, "are you still in remission?"
Sometimes it almost seems disappointing to some people that I have nothing more to report than a clean bill of health. The drama of the last year has evaporated, and I guess it has left some people jonseing for more.
My cancer life flickers in and out now. I feel like it is on a little boat, moving farther and father away from my non cancer life. It bobs up and down in the ocean, and I hope it can find happiness when it reaches the end of the horizon - without me.
In my non cancer life, I am always shocking people about my cancer life. Today I was talking to someone and dropped a nonchalant "when I was going through chemo" comment and the person looked at me wide eyed and said, "you went though chemo?"
It is nice to be in a place where I can simply say, "yes", and leave it at that.
In one I am always the girl with cancer, in the other I am the girl who surprises people when she says that she did.
The girl with cancer lives mostly in my private life.
That life is still full of Dr's appointments ("any change in your health in the last year?").
That life finds me running into friends who I only see once in a while who tend to have whispered conversations with me over the din of my children asking, conspiratorially, "are you still in remission?"
Sometimes it almost seems disappointing to some people that I have nothing more to report than a clean bill of health. The drama of the last year has evaporated, and I guess it has left some people jonseing for more.
My cancer life flickers in and out now. I feel like it is on a little boat, moving farther and father away from my non cancer life. It bobs up and down in the ocean, and I hope it can find happiness when it reaches the end of the horizon - without me.
In my non cancer life, I am always shocking people about my cancer life. Today I was talking to someone and dropped a nonchalant "when I was going through chemo" comment and the person looked at me wide eyed and said, "you went though chemo?"
It is nice to be in a place where I can simply say, "yes", and leave it at that.
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