mammogram monday

fell asleep with a headache, woke up with a headache. not too bad yet, refuse to call them migraines. how am I supposed to know trigger points or if it is the start of a migraine vs. a regular headache, this is all new to me.

the house is cluttered, my room overflowing with trash and in disarray. i keep saying i will do it tomorrow when i don’t have a headache yet that day hasn’t come yet. it’s been about two weeks in a row. yes, I am seeing my doctor on monday after my mammogram and ultrasound, yippee.

English: Woman undergoing a mammogram of the r...

English: Woman undergoing a mammogram of the right breast (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

really looking forward to that day….to be over. how could it be another year? how many posts have i written about measuring the time going by so quickly by the time in the pink-purple room of the waiting room in the mammogram section. i should count them or maybe you can. they are all in this blog, i’m sure saying the same thing over and over like the warnings not to use deodorant or baby powder.

it’s always the same, not the outcome, but the process. I worry, I know everyone worries, most people can hide it, i can’t. there’s a shocker. i try to make light conversation and people seem so grateful. we are all the same in this room, in every mammogram room, we breathe the same nervous air, we give each other half smiles laden with fear, we wink, we nod. when someone leaves happily, there is always the thumbs up for them, spreading fear within.

this time i will try to do mindful meditation, it helped during my dentist appointment and i didn’t need nitrous oxide, i was so proud of myself, the dentist so proud of me. will it help on monday? i have no idea but at least i know this much, i know it won’t hurt.

a universal feeling, women in their robes, waiting to be called in. we smile encouragingly to each other. one by one we go in, we leave, sometimes through different doors.

*IF YOU DON’T SEE IMAGES, I DON’T EITHER. I ALREADY TOLD ZEMANTA/GETTY SUPPORT. I’M SO TIRED OF THIS HAPPENING.  THANKS FOR YOUR PATIENCE.
 
 

 

 

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The Emmy Awards. I Think.

Robin Williams Canada

Robin Williams Canada (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

The Emmy awards had a weird feeling of disbelief and displacement for me. Why were they on a Monday night and wait, weren’t they supposed to be on in mid September? Wait right there. That’s all kinds of wrong in every way imaginable.

Some of the jokes were funny, many of them left me feeling clueless and out of touch with what was happening in the land of television. Let’s face it, if you didn’t watch Breaking Bad, (like me) you lost probably two-thirds of the show. The science fiction stuff, not a clue.

The one show I LOVE and was rooting for, Orange Is The New Black, was entered many times but, I know, I know, as a COMEDY. What are they smoking in the back rooms in TV land.  Who on earth decided that? What a moronic decision. Had that been placed in the dramatic series, I have no doubt that they would have won ALL the awards. I hope whoever made that decision is embarrassed enough to hide their heads in shame. Sorry, but you deserve it, and please don’t try to blame it on someone else.

I BINGE WATCHED Season 1 and Season 2 and of course they had comical moments but a comedy show? That’s like saying a show like The Biggest Loser is a show about gourmet food. People, a little common sense, please.

In one way I wanted Billy Crystal to give such a warm and moving tribute to Robin Williams so that selfish me would have been able to release all my pent-up emotions and sobbed for a solid hour. I know, it isn’t about me. I do know I still can’t wrap my head around the fact that Robin Williams is REALLY dead. Why?

Billy Crystal was professional and did a lovely tribute to his friend and fellow actor. Honestly what he did was probably perfect for people. It must have been so difficult to keep his composure. I felt his pain.

Being totally over-sensitive is who I am, Mea Culpa. It is who I have always been and will always be. That ‘s the reason I have this blog to release my emotions and tell people how I am feeling or what is on my mind.

I didn’t KNOW Robin Williams, nobody did, apparently, but we thought we did and that is the aching truth. You never really know anybody, do you? That’s the unanswered question that’s niggling in the back of all our minds. Do we EVER really know someone? Family or friend? With an aching heart, I’d now have to say “no.”

Robin, we will never forget you.

 

 


 

 

Mellow Yellow Monday – Apple Strudel

There’s a little chill in the air now, summer is over. You can smell it in the air. When the summer

starts to end, you feel the crispness of apples in the air. Suddenly, you feel like a cup of hot cocoa in the late afternoons, or a cup of coffee and a piece of cake. Apple strudel/cake  or the German “Apfel Kuchen.” A lovely tradition in Europe, one I respect very much!

Apfelkuchen

Apfelkuchen (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Buying A Purple Shirt While Eating Jelly Beans

This is a picture i took for the Candy article.

Image via Wikipedia

This is the kind of post you want to read on a Monday afternoon when the clouds are all gray and gloomy and it is the start of a brand new week. The orange-green-red leaves on the trees are swaying and they look like they want to cry. I’m thinking about the future and living somewhere else where the sun stays out all day and you don’t have to wear a thick black jacket.  The only perk today is that our house is clean and it looks pretty. There are no cobwebs that I can see and the wood shines like a Pledge commercial. It smells lemony and the beds are made and the sheets are fresh and I am planning to take a hot bath tonight. It’s against house rules to put your dirty body into a brand new made-up bed with sheets and blankets that beckon you and smile.

It’s our friend Christina’s 16th birthday and she looked so sweet and innocent and happy like a shiny polished Macintosh apple. My son drives her to school and back every day along with his sister seated proudly in the front seat. Christina was wearing the soft beige scarf that my daughter gave her for her birthday. Her arms were packed with brownies and oatmeal cookies and chocolate cake that her school friends made for her birthday celebration. Oh to be young, filled with sweetness, innocence and incomparable joy. I see myself in young Christina, all eager and willing to please, her arms outstretched for a big, warm, hug.

I’m listening to music to quell the anxiety that has been plaguing me for the last week. It starts in the late afternoon and escalates until nighttime; my stomach clenches and my legs ache with unbearable pain. My aches and pains stem from stubborn, bossy, Fibromyalgia and sleep comes as a welcome relief.

I’ve taken down all the photographs of my children when they were very young and replaced them with an up-to-date picture of the two of them grinning, their eyes alive with mischief; my son’s arm casually draped around his sister’s shoulders. I had to beg and plead a lot for that one portrait. While I am extremely proud of my children’s independence I have had a few problems lately adjusting to it.  I can’t forget the moment last year when my son said patiently “Mom, High School is one big lie.” It is a message that has been burned into my brain and I think of it often.  I didn’t believe him then but I do now. Apparently, lies are commonplace but I need to force myself to look deeper, for honor, and not compare my past, unhappy and burdened youth to their present, over-indulged happy lives.

I am booking a massage at the local spa, a gift I received for my birthday, and I am looking forward to it. There, I will not think of the last year, tension pressed up against stress like two sweaty lovers: unemployment and illness together as one.  I will fantasize about traveling, seeing the tulips in Holland, a trip to Israel in the spring, perhaps the countryside of Spain. I will picture my loving husband’s face, his hand in mine, playing the punch buggy game in the car and competing in the “I love you more” contest. I will remember that when I asked him for a phrase, another definition for “empty nest” he threw his head back, howled loudly, with glee and in a snap of a second he shouted: “Freedom.” I love him so much in many ways but I especially love him for giving me that.

Dedicated to Danny