Jenster's Musings

The Latest

2009-10-16T10:04:00.002-04:00

Saturday has now been cancelled as well. Todd and I are going to make the best of today. Lunch out, a movie and then the Phillies/Dodgers game this afternoon. We're also considering sleeping in our new sleeping bags tonight! On top of the bed, of course.

The Poconos - just north of us - have received over 4 inches of snow in some parts - a new record for this early in the season. They closed and were salting Kelly Drive in Philadelphia this morning because there were some icy slick spots. The air temps weren't quite freezing, but the road was cold enough to ice up in areas.

So again, as disappointed as I am about missing out on the experience, I'm glad they had the foresight to cancel. Makes me want to try it again next year!

A Mix of Emotions

2009-10-15T20:10:00.009-04:00

I was so proud of myself this afternoon. After leaving work early I ran by Target to buy a few last minute items including exercise pants in an attempt to keep my legs halfway warm this weekend. I packed up my duffel bag with all my goodies - even my sleeping bag, an air mattress, two tarps and a small, rechargeable air compressor - and it all came in at 33 pounds.

Todd and I also kept a watch on the weather and the 3-Day website and it was looking dismal. The weather kept looking worse and nothing was being said about alternative plans on the website. So I finished packing, had a nice family dinner, watched last night's GLEE on the DVR and got ready to leave for the hotel where we would be starting our adventure tomorrow morning.

As I stood there with my 33 pound duffel bag/back pack on my shoulders thinking, Dang! This sure feels more like 50 pounds!, Tina called to wish us good luck. She also wanted us to know that if we chose not to walk in the Nor'easter nobody would think ill of us, which I greatly appreciated.

Once again we got on-line to check the weather and the website. The high for tomorrow had dropped since the last time I had looked - down to 41 with a chill factor of 32. I started to have second thoughts because we really don't have the appropriate clothing for those types of temperatures. We then went to the website and found this:

October 16-18, 2009

In light of the extreme cold, windy and wet weather conditions the Philadelphia Breast Cancer 3-Day Opening Ceremony (previously scheduled for Friday morning at 7 a.m. at Willow Grove Park Mall) and the first day of walking have been cancelled.

As organizers of the event, our main priority is to ensure the safety and welfare of our participants. After consultation with medical and safety experts, a delay of the event was determined to be the most appropriate action.

I wanted to go "whew" and "nuts" all at the same time. (Would that be "whuts"?) I'm very disappointed that we're not going to get to have the whole experience. But I'm also relieved that the decision to go or stay was made for us. That would be because the Reverend Terri Stone told me she would pray for the right decision. Thanks Terri!

We're supposed to keep checking with the website to see what the plan is after tomorrow. I'll be sure to let you know!

Almost Walkin' Time

2009-10-14T20:19:00.011-04:00

Todd and I are nearly all packed up and ready for our three day adventure. The hardest part right now is making sure our duffel bags don't weigh any more than 35 pounds. Sounds easy, but when you have to put in a sleeping bag and an air mattress (because I'm NOT sleeping on the ground) it adds up.

October is usually such a beautiful month and a perfect time for walking six or sixty miles. Right? Except we're expecting a nor'easter this weekend.

Friday

High of 48

Saturday

High of 48

Sunday

High of 52

No biggy. What's a little water and low temps compared to a cure for cancer? That's what I keep telling myself anyway.

How about these encouraging words on the white board calendar at work?

And this is to let everyone know why I won't be at work on Monday.

Thanks, Kelly!! :o)

Trippin' Through Genesis 7

2009-10-11T16:24:00.002-04:00

There are a couple trippy things in chapter 7. Just click on the picture and see for yourself!

It's Been A Jenster Week

2009-10-08T17:21:00.014-04:00

THE EVOLUTION OF CAKE

Tuesday night was the first get together of the school year for my student small group. Katie and I decided we'd bake a celebratory cake for the occasion, but not just any cake. No. We decided to get a little wild and crazy so we baked one vanilla cake in two rounds and one chocolate cake in two rounds on Monday evening. Katie crumb sealed them with butter cream and we put them in the refrigerator to set.

Tuesday she put a regular layer of the butter cream on three of the layers and made a raspberry filling. We then stacked them vanilla, chocolate, vanilla and chocolate.

Four layers may have been a bit much because the cake started slipping and sliding and looked more like the Leaning Tower of Pisa so we had to brace it with chopsticks.

And then we frosted it. Or attempted to frost it.

It kept getting uglier and uglier.

Until it finally looked like something out of a Dr. Seuss book. Or a horror movie.

THE EXTINCTION OF CAKE

Just like it's true you can't judge a book by its cover, neither can you judge a cake by its frosting.

The fact that the ugly behemoth is nearly gone is testament to a delicious confection!

Todd was out of town so Taylor ran to the store for vanilla ice cream to accompany the cake while the girls and I did our thing. I thought to myself how great it was that I could give him a little cash and send him on his way to run this errand for me.

Until the next morning when I went to get in the car and it was wet inside. He left the sunroof open all night and it had rained.

"The Feed" Follow Up

2009-10-04T21:13:00.003-04:00

It's over. It wasn't quite as bad as I was afraid it would be, but then again I only watched it with my peripheral vision so I couldn't see me very well. I even motivated a friend to come to church just so she could see me. I'm afraid she was a little disappointed because, in her words, "I was expecting to see like big old nose hairs coming out of you or something . . ."

Well thank goodness there were no big old nose hairs. And I didn't hear anybody yell anything about facial hair, tacky clothes or one-inch roots. It was church, after all, and if people are going to be nice anywhere it should be there. Right?

I told my boss that if there's ever a next time I would like a little notice so I could consult my stylist.

Trippin' Through Genesis 6

2009-10-04T16:35:00.006-04:00

More Than You Wanted To Know

2009-09-30T18:26:00.010-04:00

I have this problem. It's a very serious problem and I've had it for as long as I can remember. I tell things that I shouldn't. Not about other people. I'm really good at keeping those kinds of things to myself. No, I tell things about myself that I shouldn't. A good example would be when I was complimented on a new dress at work several years ago I said, "Thanks! I got it for $5.00 at the Goodwill!" Those of you who have been reading my blog for the last three years or so are probably thinking about the posts I wrote about my breast reconstruction and nipple tattoos. That may have been TMI as well, but I don't know how to stop and this post is just going to be more of the same.

This morning as I was fixing my coif I thought to myself, "Self, you really need to call Darlene about those roots." Or if I was His Girl I would say that I'm in desperate need of some hairapy. Before I left for work I told Todd I was going to spend some time grooming tonight. You know: plucking the eye brows; waxing the lip; maybe masking to get rid of the zit that popped up last night. That sort of thing.

As for my wardrobe, well, I just wore one of my usual comfy v-neck tees, jeans and my Crocs because they're about the only shoes that don't bother my blisters (another post for another day).

So I get to work and the Children's Ministry team is having their weekly meeting and they're all looking sharp. Of course, they're all young and pretty and always look good even when they're wearing something like, oh, I don't know. A t-shirt, jeans and Crocs. But today it was nice make up, great hair, cute outfits. Sharp. Then I remember they're shooting The Feed, a video announcement for Sunday mornings.

I'm standing at the copier making -- can you guess? -- copies, while the girls are talking to Dave, the videographer, about the video details. Then I hear my name and see all these slightly sinister smiles directed toward me. Turns out there were seven announcements and only six ministry leaders.

I tried to ignore them and kept copying, hoping and praying they would forget about me and go about their business. But no such luck. Now I'm going to have to witness all my flaws on the big screen Sunday morning. *cough* I feel a cold coming on. I'm afraid of hearing something like, "Man, that chick needs a shave," or some such.

And the worst part? I've just given a ton of people something to look for on Sunday morning. Why? Because I can't keep my yapper shut! Or my fingers still.

Oh well. I much prefer to be behind the scenes, writing a script or something like that. But it's all good. I'm just working for Jesus, keeping it real. Know what I mean?

The Neighborhood Street Walkers

2009-09-24T08:05:00.004-04:00

Every morning as I leave for work I pass the neighborhood women, and the few men, who stand on the corner after walking the streets. Men and women of the oldest profession. Parenthood. "But Jenster, people don't get paid for being parents so it can't be a profession." Au contraire, mon frere. Parents may not receive cash for their efforts, but they do receive cards and home made gifts and kisses and hugs... it's more like a bartering system.

Sometimes I stop in the middle of the street, roll down my window and chat for a few minutes and sometimes I just slowly drive by, waiving furiously and hoping I didn't miss anybody. I would hate for somebody to feel left out. And then I drive off, feeling a little bit sad because that has never been part of my world.

When my kids were in elementary school I drove them every morning because I refused to let them ride the bus. Where we lived in Arkansas there was one bus for each neighborhood which meant my kindergartner and third grader would have ridden to school with the high school kids. I'm all about educating our children, but not THAT much.

By the time we moved up here I had a high schooler and a middle schooler and that first year I still was having a very hard time getting out of bed and moving in the morning. So there was very little street walking and corner-hanging-out going on for me.

I've decided, however, that I'm going to start being a part-time street walker. On Friday mornings, my days off, I'm going to walk up the street with Sookie (the corner usually looks like a dog park) and hang out on the corner, plying my trade in the form of, "When my kids did that I would ____", and then come home and head to my Bible study.

Then I, too, will be a neighborhood street walker!

Another Six Months

2009-09-16T22:27:00.003-04:00

So I saw the White Russian today. As doctor’s appointments go it was fairly pleasant. My biggest complaint every time I go is that they’re too prompt and I don’t get to read nearly as much in the waiting room as I’d like to. Which was a crying shame today because I’m reading this fabulous book that Laurie Kingston, a Mothers With Cancer friend of mine, wrote: Not Done Yet: Living Through Breast Cancer. She started a blog at the time of her breast cancer diagnosis and the book is a compilation of her posts. I’ll be doing a complete review when I finish, but suffice it to say I’m thoroughly enjoying it. Kind of a weird thing to say considering it’s about her experience with breast cancer, isn't it? But she’s funny and her way of dealing with things strongly resonates with me. And that’s all you get until I finish, which could have been today if the oncologist’s office was just a little less efficient.

On the way back to the scale I asked the nurse if I could just tell her how much I weighed and if so, I’m 125. She answered with, “So am I. But you’re going to have to stand on the scale anyway.” Then we went in the room for the preliminary vitals and blood work. Because I had lymph nodes removed I can’t have blood pressure or blood draws or anything that could aggravate the lymph system and cause lymphedema in my left arm. When the nurse asked which arm I drew a total blank. For a minute I couldn’t remember which side was okay to use. We both laughed and agreed that was a great thing.

Vitals taken and blood sucked, she handed me a robe and left the room. Which meant I had to disrobe from the waist up. Which meant persons other than myself would be seeing my underarms. D’oh!! Not only are left armed vitals off limits, so is shaving the left underarm. If you’ve been around here for the last couple of years you know I went through three sessions of laser hair removal which seemed to do the trick. Except it didn’t and now I have to go back for a touch up, though I keep forgetting to make the appointment and I hardly ever Veet because it’s so inconvenient and it kind of burns, too. But do you know what I say to sparsely hairy armpits at the doctor’s office? “Whatever.”

The appointment itself was very good and almost great. I think we spent at least half the time discussing college choices for Taylor – my doctor is pushing for Penn State and laments that his girls chose Yale, Harvard and Temple. Not a huge concern for us. But this appointment was supposed to be about me so let's get back to that.

My blood work was great (surprise, surprise, my white count was on the low side of normal). My vitals were great. My tumor markers were low. Everything was as it should be which is very good. I’ll get a bone density test in January, see the doctor in March and we’ll be that much closer to my 5 years.

The one glitch in the appointment is that I will be on the Arimidex two years longer than originally prescribed. The plan had been post-chemo treatment for five years which for me was two years of Tamoxifen followed by three years of Arimidex. There’s been a new study, however, that says there’s a better success rate when the patient stays on the Arimidex for five whole years regardless of how long she had been on any other post-chemo medication. A little disappointing, but I’m not going to complain about it (at least not at the moment). It’s small beans compared to the grand scheme of things.

Finally I checked out and high tailed it for the Starbuck’s down the street for my venti White Chocolate Mocha with whip to complete my visit. Because a trip to the doctor’s isn’t over until I’m sipping that sweet nectar of life and making yummy sounds. Besides, my oncologist’s office is about 40 minutes away and I needed something for the ride home.

Just Another Oncology Appointment

2009-09-12T19:04:00.001-04:00

This coming Wednesday I’m going to see my wonderful oncologist, otherwise known as The White Russian, for my 6 month check up. I’m pretty sure I know how it will pan out. I’ll sit in the waiting room happily reading until the nurse calls my name. She and I will walk back to the nurse’s station while she blames me for the weight she’s gained because I happened to tell her about Hope’s Cookies and now she can’t ever drive by there without stopping. Then, just to be spiteful I’m sure, she’ll make ME stand on the scale (at which time I’ll tell her again that I’ll be a good 30 pounds less the next time she sees me) and drain a couple vials of blood from my arm.

Once I get to the examination room I’ll be depressed about the weight she just recorded for all of eternity and The White Russian will walk in, disturbing my lamentations, and say how great it is to see a healthy person. Then I’ll feel bad about my whining when I would take every single ounce and then some if it meant not having cancer anymore.

He will ask how my summer was and what my family did. I’ll tell him we drove to Arkansas for a week to visit friends and family and how we didn’t get to see half the people we would have liked to. Then I’ll tell him how I flew to Seattle the following week to spend some time in a beach house with four other women. We’ll also talk about the tight, tingling, almost painful pressure my left arm feels whenever I fly or even ride in the car for any length of time without any support and he’ll look for signs of lymphedema. Thankfully he won’t find any unusual swelling and I’ll be told to keep wearing the compression sleeve when I fly and hopefully we’ll dodge this particular bullet.

After that we’ll discuss the stiffness in my joints and other bodily aches and we’ll decide that since it’s not debilitating pain I’ll just remain on the Arimidex for another 15 months. This is when I’ll realize I’m only little more than a year out from my 5-year goal and that will make me happy.

Most likely The White Russian will order a bone density scan because the combination of no ovaries and the Arimidex make for early onset osteoporosis. He’ll also probably decide I should have a colonoscopy because I haven’t had one yet and colon cancer is somehow closely related to breast cancer. Not only that, but there is a history of colon cancer in my family.

We will also look at my blood work which will no doubt look good except for my white count and other immune system related values. They might be within normal limits, but I can tell you right now they’re going to be low. How do I know this? Well for one thing they’re always on the low side of normal. In the nearly four years I’ve been finished with chemo they have never gotten very far above the line. But I’ve also managed to wear myself down which always results in a thick and swollen tongue, my own personal telltale sign of a low WBC. When it’s really bad, like it was after my trip to Seattle, minor cuts and blisters won’t heal and I’ll get a funky feeling that I just can’t describe so I’m not even going to try.

Thrown in between all this clinical stuff he’ll ask about my kids. When I tell him Taylor is now a senior in high school he’ll ask about his desired major and college. He’ll also ask how Katie likes high school and what do I think about being on this end of parenting. The White Russian will tell me a little about his family and their summer and before I know it my visit will be over.

I’ll then get to Peggy’s desk and we’ll chat for a moment and schedule my next appointment for sometime around March or so. And while I’m so happy I don’t have to make weekly or even monthly visits to the oncologist anymore, I’ll be just the teensiest bit sad that I don’t get to see these people for another six months. But then I’ll stop at Starbuck’s on my way home for a Venti White Chocolate Mocha with whip (Weight Watcher’s points don’t count on oncology days) and all will be right with the world.

I do wish I hadn’t gained all this weight (which I blame all on the various treatments I’ve been through since diagnosis) and I would love it if my body would be more cooperative and less stiff and achy. I’m very conscious about the possibility of lymphedema and I’m a little angry about the whole osteoporosis thing. The thing that bothers me the most right now is the white counts and the swollen tongue. How weird is that? It’s always swollen, but it gets worse when I’m feeling bad or overly tired and it gets in the way when I’m trying to talk and I’m always biting the sides with my sharp carnivorous molars.

Nobody ever tells you about all the stuff you have to deal with AFTER treatment, even if you don’t have any more cancer. But I’ll take all of it just to get to my 5-year goal and hear those magic words, “No Evidence of Disease”. And as I'm driving home I'll start relaxing, even though I didn't realize just how tense I was. I always expect a good report, but somewhere in the far reaches of my mind I suppose I fear the worst.

Finally, I'll start thinking about those I know who don't get to hear those words that I'm sure to. The women who are dealing with a recurrence or a metastasis, those who seem to be losing their fight, and especially those we've had to say goodbye to. My joy at another good report will be dimmed by the sadness for those who are not as fortunate and I'll be reminded just how horrific cancer is.

And in six months I'll do it all again.

Cross-posted at Mothers With Cancer

One Day Down...

2009-09-08T19:04:00.007-04:00

Today was the first day of the 2009/2010 preschool year. For those of you not in the know, I am the administrative assistant for my church's children's ministry department which includes our preschool. I do a lot of the paperwork to free up Leanne, the Director, to do other, more directory-type things and to help the teachers out. That's the general description of my preschool duties anyway.

My plan was to get in the shower at 7:00 this morning, leaving me enough time to eat breakfast and pack a lunch before I headed out early for work. Sookie had other plans, however.

The kids had left for school; Todd ran to Wawa for breakfast for himself, coffee for me; and the dog was outside. We have an invisible fence and I don't like leaving her outside while I'm in the shower if no one else is home so I opened the door and called her in. She spared a glance for me and then went back to whatever it was she had been doing. Stalking small children, no doubt.

After pleading and cajoling and trying to rationalize with a dog I finally had to go out to the yard to get her. Our side yard on the corner which is very visible. In my warm, pink robe and my fuzzy pink slippers.

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Go ahead. Get that picture firmly established in your head.

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So there I was, in the middle of the yard - the very dewy yard - arguing with a canine with the neighbors driving by and waving and I'm pretty sure they were laughing. At what, I have no idea. But Sookie thought I was out there to play. Because, you know, I often go out in public covered from head to toe in pink fluff.

I thought maybe I could lure her in with one of her toys. The purple ball. Yes! That's it! So I grabbed the ball and dangled it in front of her as though it was a carrot. Dangit if she's not so stealthy and quick because before I knew it she was running away with the purple ball.

Then I tried the new blue ball that she has become enamored with and taunted her with that. She stood over the purple ball and looked at the blue ball, clearly undecided as to what she should do. As she tried to make up her mind I slowly crept closer to her, careful to dodge the poop, thinking she was so confusiated that I could grab her collar and be done with it. She waited until I almost reached her and then she took off running, wanting me to chase after her. I had to disappoint her there. I rarely chase her when I'm dressed. I certainly wasn't going to chase her in my bathrobe. The neighbors had had enough entertainment for one morning.

So I stomped back to the house, muttering something about stupid dogs and showers that should have been finished by now. There were other things muttered as well, but I'm not going to share those with you because I don't want you to know the real me.

Then it happened. One of those rare flashes of genius that only come along every great once in a while. Cheese puffs. She's a hairy, four-legged cheese puff fiend. I stood on the deck, noisily opened the bag and barely got, "cheese puff" out of my mouth before she was sitting at my feet with that glazed look reserved for drug addicts jonesing for a hit. Score!

Finally I got her in the house and took my shower. I didn't have time to eat breakfast or pack my lunch, but I did get a delicious 26 oz. coffee out of the deal so I couldn't complain too much. And I made it to work on time and got everything printed and distributed and the day went pretty smoothly.

Now that I know the secret I need to keep a steady supply of cheesepuffs to keep her in her habit. Then she'll be helpless against my will. Mwahahahahahahaha....

Whidbey Island: A Photographic Tour - Island Living - Saturday: Coupeville

2009-09-02T21:22:00.051-04:00

I hope you haven't forgotten about Whidbey Island because this blogger certainly hasn't. I had only gotten through Friday in my Whidbey Island Photographic Tour series. My intention was to post all of Saturday today, but I only got through half of it. Hopefully I'll get the rest of Saturday posted this weekend. And hopefully you don't fall asleep before you get through all the photos!

There should be four bluddies in this picture, but we lost one to the alluring promise of hot coffee.

My typical view as Precious and I were usually lagging behind. There were just so many great things to photograph!

The sign says it all. And it was great food!

Italian Raspberry Soda
Cream

Italian Raspberry Cream Soda

Our uber-delicious homemade lunch: Tomato Basil soup, grilled cheese sandwich (on homemade bread) and fresh grown salad greens with homemade dressing.

Our foamy bookmark craft to keep us kiddies occupied while we waited for our yummy lunch.

HAPPY BLOGGERVERSARY

2009-08-31T21:26:00.003-04:00

Today is my three-year bloggerversary. Feel free to send flowers, balloons, chocolates, or my personal favorite - cards with money.

Thank you. And good night.

The Start of Another School Year

2009-08-30T21:30:00.002-04:00

The kids go back to school tomorrow. Taylor is a senior now and Katie a freshman. You read that right. Two kids in high school. I can't figure out when that happened. My Facebook peeps are telling me that either I blinked or turned around. Well thanks a lot, friends. Why didn't you warn me earlier?

Oh wait. You did. It's not that I didn't believe you. I guess I just thought I was blinking quicker or spinning faster so I wouldn't miss anything. Apparently that doesn't work.

I think I'll quit before this post turns maudlin. Besides, I have to go to bed so I can get up early and see the kids off to school. So I'm going to cheat and repost what I published last year at this time:

Ye Olde Tale

And it came to pass in those days that a decree was sent throughout the land stating all children shouldst return to their scholarly pursuits. And so it was the offspring of the house of Todd, garbed as was appropriate to their station, boarded the conveyance of saffron which wouldst carry them to places of learning. And thus there was much wailing and gnashing of teeth upon the carriage. But lo, the women rejoiced, singing praises to the Lord and joyfully dancing in the streets.

Ye Olde Tale, Part II

But woe to those who didst sing praises and dance joyfully in the morning, for their joy wast turned to sorrow. Though Jenster, wife of Todd, son of Phillip, was gladdened in her heart as her children departed the conveyance of saffron from whence they came, she wast overcome with despair at the multitude of scrolls those in governance over the learned places deemed she should writ her name upon. Verily, the sorrow didst continue at the command Jenster, wife of Todd, son of Phillip, shouldst make haste to the market place and thereby give a goodly sum to the merchant in exchange for bindings with which to hold the scholarly scrolls and the tools with which to document the knowledge learned by her children. Yea, though she rent her clothing, donned sackcloth and covered her person with ashes, her mourning was turned back to joy for by the next time the sun didst rise much toiling wouldst be finished so she could then enjoy the fruits of her labor.

And so it was.

Girls' Day Out

2009-08-29T19:16:00.006-04:00

Katie starts school on Monday so today we had a Girls' Day Out. What a great day it was!

First were Sunflower Spa Pedicures which were divine. We sat in massage chairs with heated pillows around our necks. Our feet received a sunflower scrub followed by a green tea mask and then wrapped in hot towels. While all that was going on we were each given a bowl of vanilla bean ice cream sprinkled with chocolate candy covered sunflower seeds. Is there any better way to start a day (after coffee, of course) than with dessert? I think not.

When the polish was dry (or mostly dry, anyway) we drove across the parking lot (because the polish wasn't completely dry) to a delicious restaurant and sat outside on the patio. We shared the most amazing tomato basil bruschetta - something we had decided on a couple of days ago. I had the French Onion Soup with about a half an inch of Gruyere on top and Katie had some sort of wrap -- not exactly sure because I was too busy enjoying my soup.

Once the check was paid we headed for the movies, but we just missed the 2:10 showing so we walked around Target for a while. Big mistake. Huge. We only needed two things. Two. We walked out with twenty or so. Hair products, toothpaste, and necessities like books, clothes, candy. Funny how you remember all the things you need when they're right in front of you. We finally realized we had to go or we were going to miss the 3:50 showing because these things we couldn't live without kept popping up.

Todd and Taylor had a Boys' Day Out very similar to ours, except no pedicure. At least that's what they said. Hold on a second...

...I was going to look at Todd's toes to make sure they hadn't been "handled" and I'm still not sure because Todd has tennis shoes on. Kind of odd if you ask me. He usually always wears flip flops in the summer. I'll have to get back to you on this one.

But I digress. The boys went to lunch (not nearly as delicious as ours, I'm sure) and then they went to the same theater to see Inglorious Basterds (which I can say without being accused of cussing because "basterds" is spelled wrong). So Katie and I parked in the same row and left a note on Todd's truck (which reminds me of another post I'm going to have to write). Then we went in and got our scrumptuals, but we had to sit on a bench outside the theater because they were still cleaning it. The benches were right next to the theater that Todd and Taylor were in. Can you guess what I did?

Nope. I wanted to. Really bad I wanted to go in, stand at the bottom and look for the boys and then wave at them. But seeing as how I AM an adult, and a responsible one at that, I refrained. Finally we were allowed in our theater and we found the perfect seats. Not too far up; not too far down; right in the middle. Perfect.

We saw Julie and Julia. Have you seen it? It was delightful. I can't think of a better word to describe it. Just delightful. If you love to eat you should see it. If you love to cook you should see it. If you love to write or if you blog, you should see it. If you're a woman or a female of some type, you should see it. If you're a guy you should see it (it's not a chick flick, just so you know). If you've ever been to Paris you should see it. If you want to go to Paris you should see it. Heck, if you have a pulse you should see it! It's just a good movie. It's just... just... delightful.

Of course part of my fanaticism could be that Todd, Taylor and I watched Defiance last night and today's movie was a complete change. Defiance is a very good movie, too, but very difficult in some spots to watch. Today's movie? Well you already know. Delightful. It was the perfect ending to a perfect day.

TP Update/Foob Brilliance

2009-08-25T20:36:00.004-04:00

Remember the Great Toilet Paper Debacle of '09? I had asked Taylor to look in the hall closet upstairs to see if there was any toilet paper. I heard him open the door and I envisioned him diligently searching so I took his word for it when he said, "no". Imagine my surprise on Saturday when I found SEVEN rolls in the hall closet! Seven whole rolls just sitting there. They weren't covered by towels or blankets. They were just quietly taking up space on the shelf in plain sight!

That'll learn me.

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Sunday morning at church I approached my friend, Gail, as she was chatting with Sarah, to ask her a question. When she saw me she hugged me and said, "I love it when you blog about your boobs!" It was quite obvious from the look on Sarah's face that she had no idea what Gail was talking about. Between the two of us we explained what the post had been about.

She considered the story for a moment and then she said, "So instead of Locks of Love, it's like Bosoms of Blessings." How brilliant is that??

Have Boobs, Will Travel

2009-08-21T19:20:00.004-04:00

The day after my mastectomy I was released from the hospital with a nearly concave left chest and a drainage tube at each end of the incision that ran from mid-chest to under my arm, stopping just short of my back. I looked like a Cyborg.

Not until I saw my surgeon ten days later and had both tubes removed was I able to get a special bra with a puff to “even things out”. Which hadn’t been such a big deal because I really wasn’t feeling wearing anything remotely nice with plastic sucky thingies protruding from my body, but I was excited when I was finally allowed to get a post-surgical bra.

I liken it to getting a training bra. It looked kind of like one and came in sizes such as small, medium, etc. The assistant in the Women’s Resource Center looked at my ta (the singular of tatas), nodded her head and said, “Medium bra, small puff”. Whatever. I couldn’t be sad about the “small puff” comment because small was better than nothing, which is what I had on the left side. I couldn’t wait to get home and put on my new bra with the insert to see how my tops looked.

Running to my room like a kid at Christmas, I practically threw off the shirt I was wearing. I had already ripped the packaging off the puff in the car and stuffed it into the convenient pocket of my new best friend. I fastened the clasp, adjusted the straps and looked in the mirror only to be totally deflated (no pun intended). The “small puff” was too big! It didn’t even me out, it just made me lopsided in the opposite direction. So I pulled out the filling until it was just about the right size. I guess that would be extra small.

The humiliation didn’t end there, though. A couple weeks later when I received my chemo-port the professional staff had to keep asking me which side I’d had my mastectomy on. Really? I chronicled that experience here (which also includes me on drugs) because if I’m going to share one embarrassing moment I might as well go the whole way.

Finally I was given the go ahead to get a real mastectomy bra and prosthesis. Barbara Graves Intimates in Little Rock is one of the few shops in the area that have mastectomy merchandise so my friend, Beth, and I decided to go into town for dinner and a boob.

Prescription in hand, we weaved our way through the beautiful lingerie that wouldn’t work well on a uniboob and found the very pleasant fit specialist. She took us to the prosthesis room with boxes and boxes of silicone blobs and asked my cup size. I didn’t want to say Almost-a-Boob so instead I came out and told her what I was thinking.

I knew I would eventually have reconstruction and was fairly certain I would have a prophylactic mastectomy at that time. If I was going to go through all that trouble you could be sure I’d be making the surgeon earn his money. So instead of matching up my right breast I wanted to see what it would be like as a larger version of me. The problem, however, is that insurance will only pay for one prosthesis if you had a single mastectomy and those puppies are expensive.

That’s when the helpful lady told me it’s very common for women to return their “breasts” after reconstruction. The foobs (fake + boobs = foobs) are then cleaned and sterilized and given to women with no insurance. So Blue Cross/Blue Shield bought a regular foob for me and Barbara Graves donated a filler foob for the other side. And a happy day it was when I could proudly stuff my bra and not feel like a fraud.

The Girls (as Beth named them) were treated very special. Every night they had to come out of their pocket, get washed and then put to bed in their cradle. Seriously, that’s what the box was called. A cradle. Sometimes they were hot and sometimes they were heavy and sometimes they misbehaved abominably - like when I went swimming at the YMCA in my new mastectomy swimsuit and the Girls decided they’d rather swim around my waist instead of stay where they were supposed to – but for the most part they were my good friends. They did their part to make me feel a little more normal than I otherwise would have. That is until late December 2006 when I put them away for the last time and had reconstruction.

We had moved to Pennsylvania six months before my reconstruction so I wasn’t able to drop the Girls off at Barbara Graves' when I happened to be out running errands. They slept peacefully in their boxes on the shelf of my closet for two-and-a-half years. And then a month ago we drove down to Arkansas for a visit.

Instead of luggage in the back of the car, we had our dog. The luggage had to go in a special travel bag on top which had to be taken off and put inside the car during our overnight stay on the way down and the way back. Along with the luggage was a bag full of mastectomy bras and camisoles and two boxes with breast prostheses in them. When we stopped on our way down the guys were taking everything out of the bag – a bit of a pain – and I heard Todd tell Taylor, “Well at least we won’t be bringing mom’s boobs home with us.” Because, you know, they were so large and unwieldy.

While on vacation my mother and I ran into Little Rock one day and I took all the mastectomy paraphernalia with me. We drove up to Barbara Graves, I walked in with all my goodies and the attendants seemed as appreciative as if I’d donated a bajillion dollars. Or maybe a couple grand. And it made me happy. Maybe now some woman with crummy or no insurance will be able to feel a little more normal than she otherwise would have.

Cross-posted at Mother's With Cancer

Toilet Paper and Laundry

2009-08-20T18:53:00.007-04:00

We interrupt our regularly scheduled programming to bring you this breaking news...

Never was my failure as a domestic more apparent than today. It's stinkin' hot here right now and I had no capris to wear this morning. I could have worn Bermudas but I didn't actually think that one through in the shower and, while I'm low on the pride scale, I refuse to wear shorts with furry thighs. I mean, it's bad enough that I don't have a tan. So I rocked the fashion world today. Kids' Camp t-shirt, mesh exercise pants and my Crocs. It was either that or an evening gown.

Not really. I don't own an evening gown.

Apparently I need to do laundry.

***

I usually buy toilet paper in the really big packages so we always have a lot. Always. Except for when we don't. Like this morning. We were sharing half a roll for three bathrooms. I'm not real good with math, but even I can figure out that doesn't add up. Thankfully I had to go to work and Taylor was babysitting so we could use someone else's toilet paper. I think Todd kicked Katie down to her friend's house just so he could have all the remaining squares for himself.

At lunch I ran to the grocery store in my killer outfit and bought a gallon of milk, some chicken for dinner and two very large packages of toilet paper. Each bathroom now has about 12 rolls and hopefully this will last our family for a week or two. Maybe even three. And tomorrow I'm wearing capris. Just sayin'.

Whidbey Island: A Photographic Tour - Island Living - Friday

2009-08-19T21:22:00.022-04:00

Following our adventurous morning on the beach we all kicked back at the house for a while - napping, reading, whatever - and then prepared to go into town.

I think we clean up purty good.

Gretchen drove us to the quaint town of Langley. We made dinner reservations and then explored up one side of the street and down the other.

Aren't these Monopoly streets?

This bell is to be wrung when a whale has been sighted.

Finally it was time to hasten to The Edgecliff for dinner.

Fresh cut flowers on the table.

Mussels and clams in garlic butter sauce. I actually ate a mussel. Or maybe a clam. Not sure. They pretty much look the same to me when they're nekkid.

I thought the salad was colorful and pretty. After that they brought the real food and I lost all thought for anything other than the culinary delights awaiting me so no more dinner pictures. Sorry.

Then it was back to the house for endless talking and laughing with a little bit of sniffling thrown in for good measure and a big bowl of Kellie Krack - my newest obsession. Hot, buttery popcorn with peanut M&Ms tossed in. I don't even want to know how many Weight Watcher's points we're talking about!

Next up -- a farmer's market, another charming village and a lavender farm.

Whidbey Island: A Photographic Tour - The Beach

2009-08-14T22:00:00.040-04:00

As I mentioned in my last post, I took over 1200 pictures. Some great, some horrible, most tolerable. Don't worry. I won't share them all. That would be like going to great Uncle Horace's house and watching his vacation slides. Great for insomniacs, bad for blog readers.

I am going to break them up, though. So today I give you...

THE BEACH

Our Island Abode

The view of Double Bluff from our Island Abode

The walkway to our treasures. Gretchen's husband, Big, helped build it.

Beauty on the beach

A live sand dollar

Lunch time

One of Susan's greatest finds

Kellie and His Girl taking a break from touching slimy things to get some snapshots

This is a moon snail. A big moon snail. There is nothing wrong with it. This is what a moon snail is supposed to look like. Poor little moon snail.

The girls peaking over the vastly interesting barnacle rock

Susan's crabs, not to be confused with cooties

A sampling of our beach booty

What a fun morning that was. Gretchen gave us bags to carry our finds in, but I was so busy taking photos that I only brought home three things. A sand dollar, a snail shell and a clamshell. And I don't even think I actually gathered them off the beach. I think I pilfered them from someone else's finds. But what are they going to do? Come get them?

Next tour - Island Living

The Party's Over...

2009-08-10T17:41:00.005-04:00

Last night I caught the red eye out of SeaTac for a non-stop to Philly where I landed around 7:00 this morning. Which was 4:00 AM to my Pacific Time Zone adjusted self. Thankfully I have nothing to do today other than sleep, readjust and download over 1200 pictures Precious blessed me with. Not 1200 good pictures. Just 1200 pictures. Which is taking FOR.EH.VER...

I had the complete joy of getting together with four of the most amazing women this past weekend. Jewels in My Crown, LVCG, His Girl and CPQ. Seriously incredible girls and they let ME hang out with them in a beach house on Whidbey Island that Jewels in My Crown graciously shared with us.

We laughed so much my stomach hurt. There were a lot of perilously-close-to-peeing-our-pants moments. We also cried a little here and there as we shared the less than joyous situations we've found ourselves in -- we all have a story -- but those tears nearly always turned into the happy tears that come from witnessing God's kindness and mercy through those difficult times.

The island was beautiful and the weather perfect. While the tide was out we scoured the shoreline for sand dollars and shells and found crabs and sea snails (disgusting) and barnicals and all sorts of interesting things. We explored a couple of charming towns with their quaint shops, ate delicious food - both at the house and in town - mosied through a farmer's market and strolled through the sweet smelling lavendar farm.

Yesterday we snapped pictures of the original Starbuck's and waited around to see fish being thrown at Pike's Market, but the best we got to see was a package of crab being thrown and impressively caught by a guy while holding a steaming cup of coffee. Sadly we had to take LVCG to the airport fairly early and then the rest of us returned to Seattle to explore some more.

Finally it was time to come home. I was happy to get home to the family, but I would be lying if I said I was ready for the weekend to be over. It was the type of get away that was absolutely perfect. I honestly can't think of anything that would have made it better. Except another week or so.

Like usual, there's so much more to the weekend. I've just glossed over the highlights, but I still have about 800 pictures to continue downloading so this will have to do for now. So much to blog... so little time.

A Little Teaser

2009-08-04T18:21:00.004-04:00

We arrived home from our trip to Arkansas Sunday night and I'm leaving again in the morning for a short girls' weekend out west. When I get back and have my bearings I'll tell you all about both trips. In the meantime, here are a couple of collages of things we saw while on the road. All the pictures were taken through the car window while traveling. If you click on the collage it will zoom in so you can see the pictures better. Enjoy!!

And Away We Go...

2009-07-24T21:48:00.004-04:00

Tomorrow morning we're loading up the car and heading out for a 19 hour drive through six states. Road trips aren't anything new to us, but we have the new dynamic of taking the dog with us this time. Now some of you might be saying to yourself (and not for the first time), "Are you crazy?" My answer to you is a resounding YES!, but that has nothing to do with the road trip.

We're headed to Arkansas for a week to visit my folks. I wish we had the time to see everyone there is to see, but we just won't be able to manage it this trip. It would take us a good two to three weeks, I think! And even then we probably wouldn't get to spend enough time with those we want to. Hopefully next time we'll catch up with those we miss this time.

I don't know how much internet time I'm going to have while we're gone so there's no telling when I'll be back. But I hope to have lots of pictures and even better stories!!

So until the next time...

Where's A Drill Sergeant When I Need One?

2009-07-22T18:58:00.007-04:00

You may recall I wrote about Losing Weight And Other Inconveniences back at the beginning of June. In this self-prophesying post I mentioned I would be down a size by the end of July. I forgot to tell you, however, that I was talking about July 2010. Which is a good thing because there's only one week left of July 2009 and it's not EVEN gonna happen.

We're getting ready for our vacation and I went to the outlets today to get a few more clothing items. Oh my, did I ever see such cute clothes. I coveted crops, capris and camies. I drooled over dresses and denim. I swooned over skirts, shirts and even sweats. I was bewitched by blouses, bermudas and yes, brassieres. I admired activewear and longed for loungewear. I yearned for -- well, you get the idea. Not only were the clothes appealing to me, the end of summer sales were enticing as well. I could have gone crazy.

But...

Clothes for those of us with more to love are so limited. And I'm tired of it. I'm tired that there isn't more of a selection for the ultracurvy and I'm tired of being ultracurvy.

For a good while there I could rationalize the extra weight. Surgery, chemo, medications, more surgeries and more medications... it was understandable that I had gained so much. It's been two years, however, since my last surgery. I have no excuses anymore. Yes, it's harder than it used to be for a couple very real reasons, but it's not impossible.

I've decided I need a drill sergeant with me at all times. Someone to yell at me and call me "grunt" or "boot licker" for those moments of weakness. When I choose to watch TV instead of going for a walk. When I reach for the ice cream or those infernal cow tails that have me under their spell. When I drink too much coffee and not enough water.

Obviously my own misery isn't enough motivation. Nor are all the pictures I keep being tagged in on Facebook. Those that when I see them I gasp and think, "Oh my gosh. I don't really look like that, do I?" The ones that crumble the delusions of my imagination.

I would ask Todd to be my drill sergeant, but no good could come of that. I would just get angry at him for being so mean to me and then he'd just feel bad and go to the store and buy me a box of Goobers and probably Starbucks for a venti White Chocolate Mocha with extra whip.

What's the point right now, though? I'm off for almost two weeks of vacation and I'm certainly not going to be all that good. I'll start up fresh the second week in August. Maybe by that time I'll have found someone to yell at me without making me mad. And by July 2010 I'll be shopping for the modestly curvy!