Saturday, August 29, 2009
Life AT . . .after treatment . . .
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
No need for sheep . . .
When I’m worried and I can’t sleep
I count my blessing instead of sheep
And I fall asleep, counting my blessings
When my bankroll is gettin’ small
I think of when I had none at all
And I fall asleep, counting my blessings
I think about a nursery
And I picture curly heads
And one by one I count them
As they slumber in their beds
If you’re worried and you can’t sleep
Just count your blessings instead of sheep
And you’ll fall asleep counting your blessings.
So if you’re worried and you can’t sleep
Just count your blessings instead of sheep
And you’ll fall asleep counting your blessings.
The music and lyrics were written by Irving Berlin for one of my all time favorite movies, White Christmas. In the 1954 movie it was sung by Bing Crosby and Rosemary Clooney and they both recorded it later (as did several other folks including Eddie Fischer and recently, Diana Krall) but it is still the movie version that is my favorite.
I use the lyrics as a sort of mantra when something is worrying me . . . or . . . when everything is wonderful. So much so, that a few months ago (before I was sick) Charlie asked me about the tune that I was humming. I explained that I was worried about something and that it helped me to remember to get "unworried." The next time he heard me humming it under my breath, he ran up and gave me a hug! "Don't worry Mom!" he said. "Oh," I said, "I wasn't worried, just happy." "But you were singing the worry song." "Oh yeah, I was . . . but most of the time its a blessings song." "Hmmm," he said "I don't get it." I tried to explain that turning worries into blessings is what the song is all about, but I think the concept was still a little beyond him . . .
They play music every day in the radiation room. I never know who has chosen the station/CD, and I never know why. Funny, but I've never asked. I sort of like the surprise. I've had big band classics, Sinatra, Michael Jackson, and Madonna (twice!) but usually its a random easy listening station. I can usually get in about 4 songs while I'm on the table, but I never hear the first one. Because I always start with my song, my blessings song, in my head.
Tomorrow, Wednesday the 19th of August, I will do that for the last time. In itself, that is a remarkable blessing. The side effects have gotten particularly crappy this week and I am told that they are likely to significantly worsen before they get better, but what a blessing that they did not start sooner! (See how it works!?) I get calories almost exclusively via liquids or the tube, (which makes dinner prep really easy). I have no hair on the back of my head (still covered by the hair at the top though). The skin on my shoulders, back, and neck is red, itchy, scaly and horrible looking (but it too, is covered by my hair). I have no sense of taste to speak of (but someday in the next few months I will get to try everything I have ever eaten in the past, as if for the first time). I got cancer at age 44 (I got to find out how many people love me). We may not have cured it, it might come back (what a great reminder to live every day to its fullest). After tomorrow, no more daily trips to Charlotte. (think of the gas $ I will save) Very few appointments at all. (More time for home decorating!) Just feel super awful for a few weeks and come back for a scan the first week in October. (I get to be home every day when Charlie gets off the bus) Etc. Etc. Etc. The worry into blessing transformation works for almost everything (ok, ok, except the damn mucous. I still CAN NOT find a blessing in that, it's just GROSS)
Until tomorrow, forget about the sheep. Try this:
http://www.tsrocks.com/b/bing_crosby_texts/count_your_blessings.html
Friday, August 7, 2009
The chair is empty...
Woo hoo! No more chemo and here is my empty chair to prove it! Feel pretty good today. Tired of course but I will get some rest tomorrow and then 8 more days of radiation and DONE!!!!!!!!!!!
Wednesday, August 5, 2009
No stale snacks . . .and other things to be thankful for!
Many of these, based on the date, and what was happening in my life at the time, I can actually remember writing. The book holds these musings for the last 15 years or so, a few weeks at a time of daily entries and then months with nothing, another few weeks and then, a drought of almost a year . . .I was inspired though, to pick it back up this week because of two specific things for which I am particularly grateful: 1) I do not have a layered haircut and 2) I never have to worry about stale snacks.
The first is easy to explain. I mentioned in an earlier post that all the hair at the bottom half of the back of my head is falling out because it is where the radiation leaves my body ---with a layered cut, I would be VERY strange looking indeed, but, because my hair is all one length, you can't even tell--the long stuff from the top covers up the bald stuff on the bottom--so far!
And, I have to tell you that never having to worry about stale snacks is particularly gratifying! Charlie shared this with me earlier in the week when we were talking about my feeding tube. He said, "Mom, you know what's cool about that tube? If you ever want a snack you can just pour something down it wherever you are . . . in the car even! Do you know what this means, Mom?" "Um . . . what Char?" "You NEVER have to worry about stale snacks!"
Wow! How cool is that? Of course he can eat snacks in the car too and I have NO idea why he is worried about stale ones, but it's something to be grateful for, none the less. (two days later Jason pulled a ziplock bag of goldfish crackers (almost goldfish dust) out of his camp bag . . .can't say how long it had been in there but it might explain his concern!)
Anyway . . . I am back on the gratitude journal again and my three entries for today are:
1) SINGLE DIGITS! Only 9 more radiation treatments to go!
2) My sister's long and convoluted stories (Lord, she makes me laugh!)
3) In the cancer arena, my journey is only a skirmish . . . 32 days of treatment . . .likely not months and years of battling---one crappy summer traded for a real chance of cure.
I am unbelievably blessed . . .and grateful.