More on earth angels

On this journey I've encountered unexpected angels, like Hollis, who have shown themselves when I needed them the most.  It's been an interesting study.  

Those who have previously been just social acquaintances have ended up being some of my biggest cheerleaders and now most special friends.  Family members have gone above and beyond showing their love in so many ways.  A congregation has given in such a surprising and most appreciated form.  Friends and family who I haven't seen in years, even decades, have taken road trips to see me. Best friends have become sisters and one angel, who I met about the time I was diagnosed, has become a soulful, spiritual leader to me . . .

And then there are others who I've been such close friends with as little as eight weeks ago who have distanced themselves for reasons unknown.

A wise man told me back in early November that I would see these types of relationships unfold and that is when he shared the Miller Williams poem that I posted earlier to this blog.

I recite aloud the following lines as a reminder when I begin to miss and even resent those absent friends:

You do not know what wars 

are going on down there

where the spirit meets the bone.

And then I let it go.

Nine

Nine more treatments ahead and my special ass is beginning to burn brightly, along with various other body parts.  I've never been one to want to take pain medicine, but after yesterday, I'm beginning to understand that pain meds are my 'special' friends. :)

Zach and I are driving back to San Angelo this morning after my final radiation blast of the week for another glorious weekend at home and from there, it's countdown time as I begin the week of the 3rd with a chemo pump and finish out my radiation treatments.

And then one question will remain, and it's the big one: 

Is that son-of-a-bitch gone?

Gurl power

After Zach meeting a friend's teenage daughter and hanging out with her all yesterday afternoon ~

Zach:  Mom, we need to come to Temple and stay at this hotel during spring break.

Me: You've got to be kidding me, right?

He stares at me, dead serious.

So much for "boooooring Temple."

Good-bye, Hollis

What a bittersweet day for us morning regulars in the radiation oncology waiting room.  Today marked Hollis' final radiation treatment for his brain tumor.

Hollis to our group:  Tomorrow all of you will probably bring a cake to celebrate me and my loud ass being gone.

Me:  Hollis, did you say 'cake' or 'keg?'

Hollis laughed.

Me:  You'd better get up and give me a hug.

And he did, my unexpected redneck angel.

Sunday morning coming down

'I woke up Sunday morning without a way to hold my head that didn't hurt.'

By now you would think that I would see it coming and be ready for it. The natural high from a weekend at home that comes crashing down as I begin to mentally prepare myself for the trip back to Temple.

Yesterday was especially hard.  Angela was having a pity party and none of the men in my house were catching on because they were so wrapped up in their new Christmas stuff. Men being men, I suppose.

I cried in the shower, on the way to church (by myself because no one would go with me . . .I KNOW, POOOOOR ME,) and when I got back home I dramatically threw myself across our bed and wailed.  (Kind of like Connie Selleca in a bad Lifetime movie. But she whimpers mostly.  Not I.)

Bruce wandered in our bedroom bewildered.  Then Jay. And then Zach and Dillon.

Finally ~ some attention. :)

I think my anxiety was coming not only from facing a long drive back to a lonely hotel room, but now I can see the end of this treatment right around the corner, which brings on a whole new set of unexpected fears that God and I haven't had a chance to talk over quite yet.

'The family,' which can take on mafia qualities at times, pressured/bribed my Zach into coming with me to what he describes as "boooooooring Temple."  I love him for giving up his social life for four days.  Soooo, the lonely hotel room is a non-issue.

And as far as the fear factor as my time here comes to an end?  God will take that over like She always does. 

Today ~ Gardasil approved for anal cancer prevention

http://www.webmd.com/cancer/news/20101222/gardasil-approved-for-anal-cancer-prevention

mein Freund/mein Freundin

Eating extraordinary pastry this morning with Dillon at a delightful little German bakery and deli inspired me to use what little German I've acquired in my 47 years throughout the day.  Mind you, most of this language I've learned from singing
Arias by Wagner, Schubert, Beethoven and Mozart long ago. So there's been a lot of ""Ich schleiche bangs" and "Johohoe! Traft ihr das schiffs" in room 104 today.  Poor Dillon.

Friends and family (and sock monkeys) make the world go 'round and today's blog highlights a growing photo collection recording visits from friends and family.  I just hate that I didn't get early pictures of Pam, Martha, Mom and Lisa. . .and a missing one of Kathleen . . .but that presents a perfect excuse for them to come see me again, doesn't it? :)

Gott segnen Sie Freunde und Familie.



Lori Hopson McClain






Aunt Kay Cooper Bond

 

Brother Jay




Jill Taylor Mitchell and unidentified tall guy

 

Kenna Kerns Cook

My boyz




Zach on the left, Dillon on the right. Where's Ben? He's fertilizing his growing world back home in San Angelo. :)

 

Oh, how I love and miss my boys. They each offer such different views of their growing worlds and over these last few weeks I've learned to truly celebrate their gifts without worrying about what may be overlooked and not addressed without me being home. 

Yet another lesson in letting go and letting God.



Hair today . . .but not for long



That part keeps getting wider and wider











This morning I found clumps of long blonde hair on my pillow, in my butt crack and in my cleavage. Who says my Friday nights aren't  . . .fly?

Smarty pants

Sometimes I think I'm so damn smart.

"Eat clean to starve that mass, don't lose muscle, gargle with salt and baking soda water prior to chemo, fast before chemo so the good cells hibernate, up your iron by eating iron-rich vegetables, take vitamin C and pray a whole lot . . .  and Angela, you won't have all of those side effects," I have been telling myself consciously and
subconsciously at various times over the past few weeks.

~~ HA! ~~  it's quite clear to me now that I have this tendency to be a cancer Diva.  If I do all the right things, I will be above any chemo side effects? Not like those other cancer patients who aren't  as on-the-ball as I am.

Welllll, so far, the Diva approach isn't working so much for me.

I got a couple of mouth, ears and nose sores last week, my hair is falling out EVERYwhere, I've had bizarre rashes in bizarre places, I get tired in the afternoons, although my appetite hasn't waned much, my tastebuds are 'off,' I continue to have a low grade temp . . .AND  my bloodcount has fallen such that daily radiation has been postponed until at least Monday which means my treatment will be extended to the first of the year.  (I wear the pictured mask in order to stay germ free while my blood counts are low ~ allowing me to act out this surgical nurse thing I've been harbouring for quite some time. Bruce Halfmann would love it if only he were here.)

I've learned my lesson.  I am not above treatment side effects. The only expectation I hold at the point is to be healed through God's love and grace. 

So I suppose I can trash the eye of newt, and toe of frog, wool of bat, and tongue of dog, adder's fork, and blind-worm's sting, lizard's leg, and howlet's wing that I was planning to throw in a boiling pot for a spell-binding breakfast . . .and like Aretha in that commercial, eat a Snickers instead.

I was never much for bat wool anyway.

Angel Hollis: Part Deux

(Radiation oncology waiting room)

Hollis:  Did you know that when I was a little kid that I fell four stories from a roof top?

Me:  Really???

Hollis:  Yes'um.  My daddy, who was there when I hit the dirt, after seeing I broke both of my knee caps said, "You shouldn't have done that, boy."

:)

God bless Hollis. And his daddy.

Hairlarious fallout

Well, well.  It seems that the hair below my waist is falling out.  And that's nothing short of good, clean (?), entertainment for an otherwise uneventful Monday morning in Temple, Texas.

Radiation stings. A lot.

  


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Tina and Andre, my radiation oncology techs, photographed from where I'm usually seeing them ~ flat on my back.  

I've been reluctant to blog lately.  Not sure why. It could be because the new is wearing off this cancer treatment experience and I'm beginning to feel the wrath of radiation.  And I have three more glorious weeks to go. And I know it's not going to get any better  for the rest of the treatment - just the opposite. And I want to remain strong and witty and upbeat in my blogs for myself and those who might read it for whatever reason.  But I just don't feel like it.  Not tonight, anyway.

A note regarding my techs pictured above: Aren't they cute?? For the record, I do not hold them remotely responsible for the incredible stinging sensation I feel all over my VSA following my daily treatment. (Even the one that brought me to my knees Friday afternoon.)   After all, it's not every day that a girl can listen to Elvis deliver "Santa Claus is Back in Town" while receiving 16 wonderous zaps of, as Hollis puts it, 'the radiation.'  :)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pouQ7YN_6CQ

Yet Another Day in the Life of One VSA

Today I . . .

learned how to pray the Rosary.  Kind of.

had my butt gazed upon by four people at one time with absolutely no mood lighting.  That was special.

did my own (accidental) gazing at Hollis' butt crack as he exited the radiation oncology waiting room.  That, too, was special.

had a beautiful visit and lunch with two beautiful people.  (Without question the highlight of my day.)

spent most of the afternoon and evening 'airing out' my very chapped bottom bent in front of the hotel room fan. :)  (You are so very welcome for that visual.)

Not bad for a Wednesday.