Black sky, shiny pearl
String of feelings, clouds, storms move
Shifting energy.
Français : Lune (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
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Flying, sky pink air
happily through marshmallows
The joy of wonder.
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A new world of stress
sky lights up flames thrash
The force of nature.
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pink for the cure (Photo credit: silviaON)
Some people measure time by New Year’s Eve, they stay up till midnight, drink champagne and say good-bye, hoping for a better year. I used to measure years by the start of school in September for my children. I was the queen of the mommy hot-line, until they grew up and went to college.
Now, I measure time by my annual mammogram; it feels like I was just IN this same pink room with the stained chairs a minute ago. After having mammograms since I was in my twenties, I know the drill but the nurse tells me again, what to do: place the clothes in the closet, gown open in the front and as soon as she draws the curtain around me, my mind goes blank. I forget everything: did she say the opening goes in the back or the front? I didn’t use deodorant, (their loss, I think to myself) and I can never find the tie for the robe. Every. Single. Year.
I sit in this crowded room, next to me there is a tray of free pink pens and individually wrapped pink mints. I forgot for a second, that it’s October, Breast Cancer Awareness Month. After reading many articles about how “Pink” has become an incredible marketing tool for companies as well as a great fund raiser. Awareness for Breast Cancer is WONDERFUL but I know that heart disease is the number one cause of death for women than all cancers combined. My own breast surgeon laughed at that (I know) and said “Hey, it’s good for me.” That definitely soured me a bit. Please read *Carolyn Thomas’ information on Heart Sisters. Carolyn is a pioneer among women.
The technician calls my name immediately and I am joyful, “This will be very quick” she says and I foolishly believe her. I kept this appointment and ultra- sound a secret from my mother who I know will worry all day; I keep this from her, I’ve already inherited the job. The test is quick, I go out to the waiting room again and sit and wait. All the people who have been with me have had their mammogram, are dressed and have left. Doors slam loudly. I can’t sit anymore, I stand, I pace. I don’t go to the women’s room for fear of missing my name being called. My head feels detached and numb and my stomach feels nauseous. I try to hide my nerves but now it’s been over two hours. I asked a technician, very politely, if she wouldn’t mind checking for me and she was kind and I was grateful. She came back after ten minutes and tells me that the ultra-sound request was lost (yes, the one they had confirmed on Friday by phone) and they needed another one. Couldn’t they have just told me the result of the mammogram first? No.
I was led to a different chair now, for the ultra-sound, where a well-meaning but over-talkative technician gives me a detailed explanation of what she sees. “This is a lymph node” “This is something, it could be fat or could be bad like a tumor” “I have to be honest with my patients but it’s not official, official only comes from the Dr.” She is talking to the wrong patient. She is scaring me to death. This ultra-sound takes at least 25 minutes. She takes me to the radiologist to sit and wait again. After what seems to be a very long time, she comes out and tells me “Doctor wants one more picture of lymph node” At this point, I’ve pretty much lost my mind but accepted my fate and I’m calmer. She does the picture again (another ten minutes) and we go back. I wait until the technician motions me in. The radiologist does not ask me to sit down but in an off-hand way that lasted under two seconds says “You’re fine.” I stutter as she is about to wave me out of her door “Wait, what about the lymph node, and the tumor/fat that you were looking at?” They were fine. I truly felt like I had cut into her lunch time and she was being disturbed.
I had been in that facility for over three and a half hours, my best friend and my husband who DO NOT worry, were worried. There was no happy feeling or relief because of all the time, drama and their unpleasant way. Usually I would have said something but in this situation, after this time, I found myself completely tired, numb and mute.
I spent Tuesday in bed, still not over that stressful day. I wanted to avoid a flare-up of my Fibromyalgia but I have to say I still haven’t gotten my fight back. Yet.
*For more information on Heart Sisters:myheartsisters.org/
Image via Wikipedia
‘MAKE YOURSELF SOME FUN’
I need more fun in my life, scratch that, I need FUN in my life and I really don’t have too much. Of course it’s unusual to live and be stuck in a hotel room with your husband, teenage daughter and shelter dog for eight weeks but that could not be helped. (Well it probably could have but that’s a whole other topic and I’m not going there.) No way, no how. Done.
So it is up to me to find some fun or make some on my own. You can’t count on others and while I feel pretty pleased with myself most of the time I am not a fun maker. I’m working on it:
Today, I finally bought some sketch paper and pens and will probably have a doodle fest. I plan to take my notebook with me (and sorry iPhone users) while I have the phone and it is amazing, I just don’t leave it on. It will be great to always have a pad of paper and an array of pens to play with.
What else?
We don’t have a bathtub where we are staying just a handicapped accessible bathroom with shower for my poor husband’s busted Achilles tendon…but as soon as we are able to move back home, I’m buying some bubbles, going to listen to some music and sing out loud, happily. Oh, to take a bath again! Fun.
I’m going to start seeing more movies on my own because movies make me very happy and I like going to a movie by myself on a Sunday afternoon when you don’t have to pay for parking.
Next week one of my best friends and I will have lunch together, we missed this week because her kids are home from college, and I can’t wait to hear her stories! We always laugh together and I treasure her friendship.
I am going to buy some pomegranate seeds tomorrow and treat myself to a frozen yogurt, unflavored, sweet and tart at the same time, like a frozen version of a delicious Indian drink, a lassi. I’m drooling with anticipation. I’m going to make a donation to the ASPCA because I haven’t been able to give money for a very long time but it bothers me and even giving a little means a lot. My animal-loving daughter and I will be donating together.
The last thing I plan to do is to find some pretty pink cotton candy and delight in its texture melting on my tongue leaving sugar sprinkles that make me giggle with happiness. I can’t wait.
Image via Wikipedia
I’m watching tiny flecks of snow come down constantly, through the trees and on the trees like vanilla frosted brownies. It is peaceful with my husband and children home. They have a snow day and they are as excited now as they were when they were eight and ten. I don’t think you ever get over the excitement of a snow day, no matter how old you are or what you do.
My daughter and I ate egg and cheese sandwiches that my husband made. Our son sat in the family room in his blue fleece beer mug pajama pants, his phone in one hand, the other playing X-box. I wanted to say “come here, watch the snow fall from the sky” but I know better. At their ages, 16 and 18, they have their own personal snow scenes that don’t include me. It took some getting used to when they were in their early teens but now we have settled into a routine. I know that this routine will only last a little while and then it will change and be replaced by another. I’m not great with change but I know I need 24-48 hours to get used to new things and then I am fine or as fine as I can possibly be.
I am wearing my dad’s old West Point sweatshirt and blue snow flake pajama pants, lying in our bed, alternately reading, writing and glancing up to the sky to see the delicate flakes fall. The sky is so full of snow that it looks pink. I always say I hate the winter and I do but for the first time I wonder if I did live in a warm climate all year round, would I miss it? Would I appreciate Spring as much as I do if I didn’t have to go through Winter?
My daughter just brought me a cup of tea and served it to me in my room. How lovely that she asked me if I wanted a cup. Children are joyful beings and as an old teacher once said “they will constantly surprise you” and they do. My children will be grown-ups soon, they will age, as we all do. My children have grown up here in our little house with their bikes and skateboards, “Razors” and their lemonade stands.
The best thing I have ever done in my life is to get married to my loving husband and have two of the most amazing children you could hope for. I never had much ambition in life other than being a mom and writing, but being a mom is who I am; it’s what I was meant to do; it’s my Nobel Peace prize, my heart and my soul, my life’s work.
When our work in life is completely over bury me near a tree that blooms pink flowers with my husband and soul-mate, my love and best friend beside me. If all it said on my headstone was “Loving Wife” and “Beloved Mother” I would be gently smiling, and at peace.
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