Blueberry Pee

That's right, blueberry pee. And it is referring to what you are probably thinking: my pee is blue from the dye I was injected with during my surgery. See all the fun I am having? LOL. So surgery went well: they had to cut a larger margin since there were two new growth spots. Needless to say I feel mutilated. I also have an area about 2 inches in my underarm area where they did a lymph node biopsy, but they may have taken some of the nodes as well.  But let me clarify: I'm on some serious drugs so everything is just a haze. Which is awesome since the pain is merely there but the dreams are freaky. I have dreams about water and trains and my boobs....

So as I'm just starting to come out from anesthesia, I was being wheeled back to my room. I'm under a white blanket, my mind just starting to wake up, but my body too heavy yet. Anyway, there were 2 nurses wheeling me on my gurney and they were talking softly to each other "She didn't say anything about family.." "No, she didn't. Does she have any family? Who do we contact?" All I could think was that some poor unsuspecting would walking by would be looking for my toe tag...

Let us Pray

I'm waiting here at the hospital with my faithful entourage (Kim and Mikel), you know, every girl needs a following :) in purple hospital slippers with bear paws all over them...Oh, and the military style nun who wanted to pray with me. "Awesome, but you know I'm Jewish?" "Oh, not that that's bad, but.."  (Note, I am in a Catholic hospital) Ah, only in South Dakota. I'm hoping that soon I will be on a beach somewhere warm and not on a crazy acid trip while I'm under. That would be more scary than cancer...which I should mention I want to see. Seriously, I want to see this thing inside my body. I remember seeing it on the ultrasound and saying, "holy shit, that doesn't belong there!" Nonetheless, I want them to show it to me. I suppose that asking to take it home and burn it in a ceremony in my backyard is probably out of the question, huh? Oh well, you can't have everything.             

Eating the Moon

"I sit down among the chains and the the ropes to talk to the spirit in my beating heart when deep in my dark belly a flame sparks and starts to grow."--D. Hurni

I love this line in the poem. It reminds me of this tumor. Sitting in a dark space, growing. Quietly, rapidly and with cruel intention. I find myself extremely conflicted this evening. I have surgery tomorrow. I'm extremely anxious to have this over with. And yet, I have a quiet resonance about it. Maybe it's the Cat Stevens I'm listening to. Or all the people who are sending love and light out. Maybe it's the pink nail polish that I just put on my fingers for this surgery. Yes, you did read that right: I painted my nails pink for the surgery.  So exactly what did I do today to prepare for tomorrow? Oddly, not what one would think. Jamie (the other half of my Dynamic Duo) and I were doing outreach at the adult bookstores. I bought an almost body-sized pillow (one needs to be extremely comfortable you know), and season 4 of Big Love. I had a Hornsby's. There was no real fuss or preparation. I'm thinking other people have more of a plan. Perhaps that goes along with my life, lack of planning. Maybe I just don't care to have one. I know what's gonna happen. They will cut it out of me. I will heal. There's no other option. No more. No less. Or as Edwina says "Things happen when they happen, so relax."

The Capitol

So the "What if" answer came as I walking down by the Capitol building with a group of friends for lunch. Jan 06. The day before my father's birthday.   "It's cancer" the doctor said. The world around me went silent. I felt like I was in a slow motion film. Or a silent one with Charlie Chaplin. All I need were the signs in between the screens to indicate what was going on: ("Happy birthday, Pop. Oh, by the way, I have breast cancer." Yeah, not so much.).. I believe in serendipity. Needless to say Janese, Taz and I had an emotional lunch in the ladies bathroom. America has the song "A horse with no name." That's me right now. In a desert. Blinded. Better yet, the Beatles "Across the Universe"..Nothing's gonna change my world. My ex told me that she didn't think I had time to have cancer. She's right. I don't. But yet, I have to say I don't think it has completely hit me yet. I feel extremely detached from it. I don't know if this is normal...

Life in the ribbon

That title came from my son...a 13 year old genius. The idea for the blog came from my sister...I'm not really sure what this blog is going to look like. Maybe like Julie & Julia? Oh, but I'm not cooking :) I guess in a way though, I'm cooking up my recipe for the rest of my life. I've always been indestructible. Until Jan 3 of this year. I had found a lump about 5 days prior to my annual exam. My doctor sent me directly to the Comprehensive Breast Care Center where my boobs were pulled and prodded and flattened (Ladies: take Tylenol before your mammo). Then off to ultrasound where I saw It. There it was, this mass that was not supposed to be there. It didn't hurt, but it I knew it had a certain potential. As the radiologist was talking to me about the different types of lumps, he indicated that mine was not normal, so he performed a biopsy. I was to be in Des Moines the rest of the week and knew I would get the results there. I cried all the way home and all the way to Des Moines. the only thought I could think was "What if?"