Ob la di, ob la da

I have not blogging much at all of late. There's a lot of good in that and a fair amount of bad as well. I've been busy as a one-armed paper hanger. Work is backed up. I'm rarely away from my desk. I'm not taking my breaks or walking like I should so my weight is creeping upwards ever so slowly. Of course, all that busy at work makes my days fly by, too. When I get home there is a whole other life that gets crammed into the few hours between 4:00 pm and 8:00 when the kids go to bed. There's Little League practice twice a week and now games twice a week as well. Therapy for Danny once a week. The ever present laundry and my FaceBook addiction. And filling every spare minute in between is my photography passion.

That's the good stuff. I've been too busy living life to spend much time blogging about it. On the negative side, I'm coming up on my 25,000 mile (2.5 year) check up. As always, I start worrying out of the blue. This time my location of concern is my right hip. It has been hurting for a couple of months now. But the last few weeks it's become so sore that it wakes me at night and I can barely walk up stairs. So this check up, I get a bonus bone scan!

Tomorrow is my chest/abdomen/pelvic CT. Thursday is my bone scan. Then I have to wait until the 14th (!) before I see my oncologist for the results. I'll never make it. I haven't even had the scans yet and I want to call for the results already. Yet, I hope I don't here from her office before my appointment, know what I mean????

Of course, when everything turns out to be just fine I will have made it two and a half years beyond treatment for Inflammatory Breast Cancer. THAT will be a post in and of itself.

In sadder news, Mothers With Cancer lost another of it's own this week. Alabama Pink (Manda) of Whoa, Camel! fame has lost her battle with leukemia. She leaves behind a beautiful 3 year old son, Alastair and the love of her life, Adrian. You can read about her passing on Adrian's blog Rainbows! Puppies! Leukemia. Say a little prayer today for Manda's family.

Punk Rock Mommy - In Memorium

I have nothing really to say. Andrea is gone. She passed away this morning from complications stemming from Inflammatory Breast Cancer, with her family close by her side. She has left us with some parting words of wisdom, however.

I didn’t know Andrea except through her blog. It doesn’t matter, though. I still sit here posting through my tears at the untimely departure of a sister and friend. Her writing was honest and raw. Full of grace and praise when there could easily have been rancor and spite. She made me, in the words of Jack Nicholson, want to be a better person.

Say a special prayer tonight for our friend Andrea, Punk Rock Mommy, and her family. The blogosphere has dimmed a bit with her passing.

Good-bye, Andrea, until we meet in Heaven.

In memory of Diana

The very first woman that I personally knew with breast cancer , Diana, passed away on Monday. Cancer finally had it's way with her.

It's all very surreal. We were acquaintances. She was a hairdresser at the salon I go to. Diana was tall and lithe with the most beautiful white-grey hair that made her look like a silent movie star - not older. One of those 50 something women that I want to be when I grow up. She was always upbeat and laughing at something. I wish I'd known her better.

She had the same type of reconstruction I did. The TRAM Flap. When I was diagnosed Diana was so generous with her time and energy. She sent me cards on a regular basis just to let me know she was there if I needed to talk to someone.

She offered to show me her nipples. Is it insensitive to say that I wish I'd taken her up on the offer? If I'd have known at the time that I couldn't just Google "reconstructed nipples" and have the internet drop a plethora of mouse-eared nipples on my laptop with a simple click of a button I'd have had her with her blouse up in a heartbeat! Damn the internet and it's inability to give me nipple pictures that aren't pornographic, anyway!

She gave me real life advice about the reconstruction. I like to translate all surgical recovery times into Stella Time. That is to say that when I am told that recovery from surgery will be 3 days in the hospital (mostly unconscious) and 6 to 8 weeks of no lifting over 5 pounds, no lifting hands above my head, etc... what I hear is "I should be home from the hospital in a day and a half and back to normal in 3 weeks because all others (especially men) are whiners and my Dr. is a man therefore prone to theatrics. Besides, I am Super Woman/Mommy. Nothing can keep me down for long. I have work to do." Diana let me know that the 6-8 week period is in fact, real. Boy was she right!

She was great! And I didn't even know she had gotten sick again. The guilt. I'm sad.