Christmas Break re-cap

I haven’t written on my blog lately because:

a) I’m lazy

b) I have so many things on my mind that I couldn’t possibly share it all

c) I’ve been in “vacation mode”

d) I’ve been working on financial paperwork for college financial aid

e) I have felt a bit “blah” these last two weeks

f) I feel that I have nothing of value to share with others

g) All of the above

If you guessed “g,” you are correct. Congratulations!

Christmas break has been a wonderful respite from the routine of work and doctor’s appointments. I’ve eaten too much, attempted to get back on the treadmill, watched a plethora of movies, eaten out several times, attended the symphony, shopped, and just generally indulged myself. Ahhhhh!!!! (visualize getting your feet massaged while letting your breath out slowly . . . yes, that’s it . . . that’s how I’m feeling).

Beneath all of that indulgence is an undercurrent of stress that threatens to overwhelm me if I let it. I’ve nagged our daughter to finish her college essays (she did) and get her last application in on time (she did—one day before the deadline).

I filled out worksheets to ascertain our “expected family contribution” toward college expenses and nearly keeled over when I saw the bottom line.

We took our dog, Crissy, to the vet for a long overdue exam and learned that the large growth on the bottom of her foot could possibly be cancerous. Listening to the vet talk about tumors, margins, and pathology should seem old hat to me by now, but it’s just as disturbing contemplati ng my dog’s mortality as my own. She’s a bona fide member of our family and I am praying that the tumor is benign or, if not, that it hasn’t spread.

Coupled with Crissy's foot problem was a dental nightmare requiring the extraction of two canine teeth (chewing her way through a cyclone fence a few years ago has had major consequences).

As of yesterday, the lengthy surgery is over and the recuperation phase has begun. This is the part that stresses me out the most: caring for a convalescing dog. Making sure she gets all her meds, putting the little bootie on her foot so she doesn’t ruin her foot bandage when going out to do her business, making sure she doesn’t overuse her foot, and waiting for the pathology to come back sometime next week.

During this Christmas break, I was distressed to learn that my ex-boss, my favorite of all time, has been diagnosed with lung cancer. We are also praying for a young family from our church (our priest’s daughter and her husband), who have been holding vigil for their baby, Thomas, in the ICU department at Children’s Hospital. They have been there for a week and Thomas is only just now starting to respond to the treatment and will, with God’s mercy, return to good health.

My mother is waiting to be scheduled for a procedure to ascertain whether she is bleeding from her small intestine and if so, why. We learned a couple of months ago that she is anemic when she was admitted to the hospital for three days while they examined her and gave her a blood transfusion. Since then, she has taken three iron pills a day and it has made barely a difference in her blood levels, not to mention making her ill. I have been bothered that her doctor has let this thing drag out without aggressively investigati ng the cause of her anemia.

Yesterday, I heard from an old friend, a guy from Texas who was in a play with me in 1982. When I told him about my cancer diagnosis, he wrote (in his inimitable, melodramatic way—keep in mind that he’s a writer and actor), “YOU’RE DYING? Why am I always the last one to know these things?” I responded to him saying, “Well, technically , WE’RE ALL DYING.”

He went on to tell me that if the “C” word were ever uttered in relation to the state of his physical health, he would immediately begin planning a trip around the world and would prepare for his demise, eschewing chemo, surgery, and radiation.

I tried to explain to him that I know several women who have beaten cancer and are living many years out from their diagnosis. He replied, “Trust me, Dana. I’ve seen a lot.. If this were me, I would make plans to see the world, get all the morphine I could at the end, and forget about the treatment.” Sheesh.

He went on to call me “Wonder Woman” and extolled my virtues for going through this. I answered, “Don’t for a minute call me ‘Wonder Woman.’ I’m just doing what any other woman would do—trying to get through it.” And that about sums up our little exchange. He always was a cynic. :~)

With all of these pressing situations happening around me, I hardly think about my upcoming radiation treatment and when I do, I hope it’s not a big deal and that the “fatigue factor” won’t impact my job too much. I also have hormonal treatment ahead of me (to suppress my estrogen), but I try not to think about it, either. I think Scarlett O’Hara was on to something when she said, “I’ll think about it tomorrow.”

So, I indulge myself for the short-term, knowing that the stresses of life will soon take precedence over all else. I lift up my friends and family in prayer and ask for God’s mercy to be upon them. My daughter gave me a wonderful Christmas gift this year that perhaps sums it up best. Enclosed in a glassed frame, with beautifully designed calligraphy penned by her own hand, she wrote, “God Bless Us, Every One.”