thisismydisease.com

…and giraffe slippers. that’s what fits. and they’re cute - they’re CUTE!!!!!

update on me:

close to c-mas i ended up in the er thinking and writing (very slowly) in english but speaking in what i found out was french. my friends on the east coast got me an ambulance. the head male thought i was drunk. the head female knew i was not (where did i hear that before???). net-net: i had a small stroke which required 15 very, very short sessions of radiation.

i have brain cancer.

i’m having a very bad reaction to something. i think it’s the arthro - which i had to take to get over the pain of the port removal -  and residual pain - because everyone in oly and lacey was out of oxy. since, like ibuprofin, it’s an NSAID and has the same side effects, i’m taking ibuprofin now - weeks later. don’t ask.

chemo (finally) tomorrow. senior doc being more doc-like.  junior doc being a futz. (she didn’t even remember to put the arthro in the computer. must have a new girl.)

i *heart* my boots and slippers (but my slippers more cuz they’re funny - and warm).

little dog died late in january. nothing to say, other than i’m going through a depression and he’s not here to help out. i miss him terribly and wake up crying from missing him. almost 17 years. tears. random tears.

i can’t get clean. my skin looks and feels like fish - and it’s everywhere. cannibal says it’s another reaction. all i know is baby oil only makes things worse. just call me pigpen.

i woke up on c-mas day completely bald (hair everywhere!!!) and 25 pounds heavier - seriously. thank goodness i wore something loose to sleep. when in doubt, eat cookies - and after i finished off mum’s cookies (which were sooooooo good)  i made my own. coconut, brown sugar and a few choco chips. so there!!!  and they were also so good. not as good, but pretty damned good!

everything tastes like salt.

the doc who put the port in had to be convinced to remove it. i did not know that the argument went so far. all i know is they hardly ever used the port because it was always infected. the taxi driver didn’t even want to take me to the grocery store - despite the fact it meant more money for him. he just wanted to take me home to sleep.

my sleep cycle is strange.

so is my dream cycle.

i keep dreaming of aw. it’s b&w. and brown. and green. mucky green.

mucky green.  why in the hell am i dreaming of him?

upon having the port removed i, immediately, felt much better. the following day, though, i had to get the packing removed. s tried - to much screaming on my part. b tried with lidocaine with more success - but not without some screaming.

i’m not a screamer. really. not. a. screamer.

all in all it went ok. on saturday i did have to take 3 arthro to get through the pain, but that’s it. some days one. some days none. now i get ibuprofin. we’ll see.

for now, that’s it. more later. tomorrow. a week from now. a month from now. whenever.

i miss you.

i’m not dying.

today.

today’s the official start of the official end of summer weekend. today’s the day we all turn and wave bye-bye to the gatherings and the sunshine and the summertime fun and get ourselves prepared for the upcoming chill. today’s the day i make my weekend plans…and make the vow to stick with them…but assimilate the fact tuesday morning will arrive shortly and i’ll have to deal with the realisation i suck at planning.

oh well. at least that huge project i’ve been working on since may is officially on hold. we found out yesterday. via email. no actually not directly via email. via a spreadsheet attached to an email. look at my face and read my lips: COWARDS!!!!!

i have no respect for people that keep you hanging on the dangled string - then cut the string without so much as a word.

i just threw away three months of my work - and my life. and given the circumstances i’m not particularly happy about throwing away so much as a minute of my life, let alone three months.

oh well, i’m sure i can repurpose it. i’m bound to get assigned to another project i can use it as background information for. of course that project will, most likely, get cancelled as well. via email.

it’s things like this that make me want to hang up a shingle for the “she-woman man-haters club” but i can’t hate an entire group for the stupidity and selfishness of just a handful - especially when that handful is comprised of mbas and engineers (people who, by nature, aren’t the brightest or most logical bulbs, despite what they and their papers proclaim).

so this is me turning around and waving bye-bye to summer. this is also me ambling around the internet trying to find a pair of gumboots i can get on my sometimes still swollen feetsies. come tuesday i’ll need them. i’m thinking i have no choice but to have these - but these, of course, are more practical. then again, i’m bald and wear funky earrings - and have a stage 4 cancer. screw practical!

so that little dork of mine is really misbehaving this week. at any given point in time he’ll be sound asleep - then wake up with a start, get himself upright and tear off running into the kitchen to try, once more, to will food and drink into his mouth - and if he doesn’t get it piss all over the place. this is so not cute - or even remotely amusing. as you know, i’ve been blogging about his misbehaviour since the outset of this blog - but this behaviour stared late last year and has only gotten worse since aw’s departure for permanent residence in the cave. my friend (and former landlord in raleigh), james, has been following the story along and, today, sent a link to what won’t be an overall solution, but could keep me from having to wash floors and towels on a daily basis:

male (doggie) diapers

little dog is going to be getting a few packs of these shortly, whether he likes it or not.

‘glad i didn’t trash that mondo jumbo pack of super absorbent, nighttime use sanitary napkins i’ve been toting around with me since late 2000 and should have thrown out weeks ago when “the surprise” came true. until the little dork stops being an ass he’s going to be wearing them. if he complains i’m going to paint him pink, adorn him not only with the diapers but also hello kitty jewellery, and make him eat alpo.

i’m feeling optimistic about this.

then again, i’m also optimistic that global warming isn’t going to happen anytime soon.

guess i’d better buy more swiffer cleaning pads tomorrow. and wash another load of towels.

despite every possible attempt, i had no choice but to venture to target today to pick up some thing needed that cannot be purchased at the local grocery, pharmacy or dollar store. now trips to target are always an “event”, what with the seemingly strange (myself included, i admit it) and varied clientele it draws (due to its plethora of offerings) and the fact it’s across the street from a senior citizen compound that provides free transportation to and from - but today was, possibly, the most eventful thus far.

today involved a toddler, his mummy, and a carry basket so overflowing and full mum couldn’t tote the toddler - so she left him run loose.

technically, i don’t think the child was actually a toddler (so you parents out there do correct me if i’m wrong). judging by his overall lack of coordination and language skills - and his small size, i’d put him at about 14 months which, if i’m not mistaken, does not a toddler make him. anyway…so here’s this little short thing that can’t take more than three steps without waving his arms like a loon, pushing his little bum into the air and face-planting himself on the ground. and here’s his mum, arms full of products from a very overflowing carry basket and no arms on him just letting him walk, wave, falter and fall (head first right into the glass-enclosed jewellery case, in fact). over. and over. and over again (and again and again). and every time the little short thing fell mum said “come on honey, get up…you can get up” - and didn’t/couldn’t offer him any assistance lest she lose some of the products from the very overflowing carry basket and herself fall down.

the little short thing was terribly, terribly cute. and uncoordinated.

so’s little dog.

if i were to take little dog to a store that permits pets onsite (like fm, lowes, home depot, etc.) i’d have to leash him or be ejected from the premises.

why doesn’t the same apply to parents that are more concerned about their upcoming purchases than they are about their kids?

if parents are too “encumbered to attend to their children” (read “more concerned about their upcoming purchases than they are about things they themselves created”) they should be required to leash them, just as pet owners are required to leash their charges when in stores that permit pets to visit. even if said parents are too dense to get the real message (ie “it’s yours to keep out of harm’s way and is worth more than that basket o’crap you can’t seem to let go of”) at least the youngsters might not have to spend so much time flopping onto the floor (and who really wants to touch a floor in target - eeeeeeewwwwwwww) and potentially hurting themselves (or others).

this just takes me back to the concept of “if humans want to procreate they should have to pass a logic and reason test before being permitted to do so”.

hope the little short thing is ok. he was so cute (pinch his little drool-covered cheeks).

why spend thousands upon thousands of dollars on silicone or saline, post-bc titties when you can use a commonly found cheap drink and a retrofitted bra to fill the void:

from 0 to 2-cup sizes for $29.99

be sure to take the time to study the animated gif.

i want to say something pithy here. insert something pithy here. and while you’re at it, add a huge helping (up to 24 oz!) of liquid pity.

it’s been a barrel of monkeys here in the cancer den, let me tell you. if there was any more excitement around here i’d burst my seams and spew my toxic innards all over the floor. let’s see…

what’s happened…

ummm…

ummm…

ummm…

nothing.

not a bloody damned interesting thing.

it’s been quiet.

very, very quiet.

my isp finally agreed to let me send emails again (after multiple days of my begging and pleading and crying), despite what my web hosting company enabled (idiots).

work has been hectic, but quietly so. it’s the end of the summer and vacation time, after all.

i got my office almost completely rearranged and re-outfitted. just a few more things to go (like a whiteboard) and i’ll be able to call it good.

amber came by and cooked up a number of weeks’ worth of potstickers and sauces for veggies, rice and pasta.

the blog got picked up some place or other and is getting spammed to the tune of up to 20 per hour (which isn’t a lot - unless you consider i have to moderate each comment).

little dog, once again, proved he’s skilled above and beyond normal males and peed in the cupholder in my car (and i have to say, his aim is much better than any human male i know - he didn’t dribble so much as one drip, which is more than i can say about any of them).

the fungus under my finger nails has gone from being oozy and squishy to being solid and crunchy. it still smells like floppy eared dog ear, though.

dwight’s girlfriend arrived. she was prenamed “peanut” but she keeps telling me to call her “candy”. she also keeps mentioning that she’d like some friends - and keeps leaving me hints here and there.

the subtraction of two of the chemos left me with hands that are far less scaly and flaky - but are even more extremely sensitive to heat, cold, and (even) touch. they itch like hell and hurt even worse. and my fingernails are curving under - which wouldn’t be problematic if i could cut or trim the darned things. no can do. for things that have no pain receptors in them they surely do hurt when i try. if the emory board i purchased doesn’t work on them (and it might not, given how bloody strong they are) i might have to resort to sand paper.

thanks to facebook and the wonderful ms. stephanie green i “met” jessica queller, the author of this book. it arrived yesteday. i’ve got a date with it later this evening after a smoothie-based dinner and whatever else i can scare up that’s appealing. (i made a pot of homemade potato broccoli cheddar soup but i’m not in the mood for it now.)

my sil sent me a care package full of foods that don’t taste terrible to me (the lollipops, in fact, taste pretty good) and a book that was actually on my amazon wish list. i think she’s the first person to ever purchase anything from my wish list. (well, except for aw - but he purchased a book for me that i put on the list to purchase for him. like he couldn’t tell the difference.)

i made the mistake of putting some of the leftover (from many months ago) kraft singles on a bagel and putting it into the oven to bake. wow - i’d forgotten just how horrific that ends up. even little dog was confused by it. there something very wrong with a cheeze-food that does not melt but does bubble up and get brown and crusty.

one particularly rainy day this past week the golf course banned the cushmans (or is it cushmen - i know i keep asking but i don’t know the answer) from the grounds. surprisingly enough a good number of golfers came out despite this “inconvenience” and trudged through the rain and mud to play. now if they would only eschew the cushmans on other days and stop making nuisances of themselves. (i found another golf ball in the front yard the other day. that takes talent. or total lack thereof. it’s hard to say.)

a coyote walked past the living room window.

little dog peed on the floor. and my feet.

it was rainy and cold.

it was sunny and warm.

i slept.

i ate.

i hung out with friends.

i read.

i cried.

i laughed.

i just was.

just the way i like it.

it’s been quiet.

very, very quiet.

and now i’m going to sleep some more.

ok, ok, i admit it. facebook has sucked me in with its magnetic pull. i managed to avoid it for a few years - but it got the best of me.

i have succumbed to face(book) sucking.

it started out slowly. one friend invited me to join in but i refused because the creators of the application didn’t seem to have any idea what the heck they wanted this to be - and i am not the type to invest anything into “what the hecks”.

time passed. the facebook folks enlisted its subscribers to help it determine what it should actually be. facebook stopped crawling and toddled - then started to walk. developers started to throw their skills toward the effort and started creating cool little add-ons (scrabilicious anyone). and people started to join in the fun.

the thing i really like about today’s facebook is it’s a bento box of sorts. facebook itself is the main box. friends associated with one faction of my life fit into one little box that fits into the main box. friends associated with other factions of my life fit into other little boxes that fit into the main box as well. when i log in all the little boxes are there in the main box just waiting for me to do something (including nothing).

i won’t be playing scrabilicious though - so don’t ask. i’m too ocd and if i start i’ll never stop. so i can’t start.

yup. i’ve been sucked in.

i woke up on the wrong side of the wedge today. half of me was on it - while the other half of me was flailed out on the bed itself like a salmon trying to swim upstream and facing too strong of a current. this was the half on the wrong side - especially when the alarm proceeded to go off and, thanks to my twisty position, i couldn’t reach it. instead i was left to endure some sort of rod stewart ballad peck away at my sinuses while trying to swim my way to the off button.

minutes later, while mixing my morning coffee, little dog decided to let loose with his first pee on the floor of the day. at least me missed my feet this time.

from there the day went up and down and up and down like a stereotypical yo-yo. work was done. a trip to the post office was undertaken (and survived).  emails were sent. time with friends was spent. dinner was made (and eaten). little dog was fed (and pooped and peed - not that you’d know because he did spend quite a bit of time today peeing elsewhere, including on my feet). snacks were had. smiles and frowns were shared. words were exchanged. posts were made. and soon, very soon, the wedge will be revisited and a magazine read.

despite waking up on the wrong side of the wedge and the yo-yo of the seconds and minutes and hours - and the heat that swooped down on us (ugh - 95 is not a good temperature for the inside of the house) - the day was fine. more than fine. it was all right:

dont worry about a thing,
cause every little thing gonna be all right.
singin: dont worry about a thing,
cause every little thing gonna be all right!

rise up this mornin,
smiled with the risin sun,
three little birds
pitch by my doorstep
singin sweet songs
of melodies pure and true,
sayin, (this is my message to you-ou-ou:)

singin: dont worry bout a thing,
cause every little thing gonna be all right.
singin: dont worry (dont worry) bout a thing,
cause every little thing gonna be all right!

so if you’re sitting there feeling sorry for yourself because you don’t have this or that and can’t do this or that for whatever reason, take a few steps back. put on the funny nose glasses, dance around like a buffoon and, what the hell, shave off all your hair off. it’s alright.

in an attempt to keep the skin on my arms, legs and belly from flaking and drifting off as i walk - and to attempt to get me into weather-appropriate clothes again, the bath routine has changed (thanks to jori and crew). it now not only includes vanilla lavender bubble bath, but also a few drops of patchouli oil. oh and a liberal dose of neutrogena body oil. add to all of this the pomegranate acai soap and, well, i smell “unique”. it’s not bad. it’s very layered - and colourful. since my fingers are so dry i can’t tell if the first application of the layers worked - but my skin looks smoother. well maybe not really - but it is the first application after all. what can you expect from the first treatment?

meanwhile (and we’ll insert the high eeeeeewwwwwwww alert here just for nan)…

…the skin that’s sloffing off my feet is all kinds of fun colours: black, brown, pale yellow speckled with brown, dark yellow. and it’s crunchy. it’s kind of hard to describe. if this weren’t my skin i’d be totally eeeeewwwwwww’d out. but it is. so i can’t be. well i guess i could be - but that wouldn’t be very useful.

so now that i’m all cleany and smelling like the perfume department in a traditional pharmacy staffed by little prim ladies dressed in navy blue dresses and sensible shoes - and now that my little bald head is flake- free and a cute as a baby’s bottom - i’m going to go wedge into the wedge, read, lean more about the video camera and drift off to sleep. i deserve it.

oh and maybe i’ll oil my feet some more. the sheets need to be washed anyway.

and maybe i’ll take another stab at the hands. not literally - but if i did i wouldn’t feel it anyway. at least i should pull out some of the fungus so that the floppy dog’s ear smell doesn’t come back too quickly (sorry nan).

nightly all!

so let’s not talk about me. let’s talk about this lovely woman (who just happens to be a friend of mine).

candace’s youngest son broke himself just over a week ago simply by doing his job: being an active little 5 year old kid.  the “broke” is a spiral fracture which, until yesterday, was splinted. it’s now in a cast - a rather large and day-glo one. and the wheelchair provided isn’t one of those cool ultra-lights. oh no…it’d be way too hard to hand over something so “right sized”. no, instead he was given one of those uber-bulky ones that may be easy enough to lift once or twice - but is not something that can be lofted about easily and, certainly, not lofted about at all by someone so young and short.

so in thinking about candace’s young son and what they’re going through (and of course this all happened while her dear husband is away on his summer duty with the guard), and in thinking about all the poop i’m going through with my accordion feet it’s time to segue to a segway.

think about it: i don’t need to be sitting down - and candace’s young son could simply rest his little butt on the tow bar type bars you can attach to them. a segway makes mobility sense in our cases. and because they’re pushable and climbable and don’t need to be lifted here there and everywhere even people with less than superhero strength or the height challenged can maneuver them about.

‘course in my case it would just make things easier to bonk into and cause more damage to.

‘course in candace’s son’s case it would mean his brothers could (in) advertently become roadkill.

on paper this all makes sense though.

the segway is an intelligent ingenious invention. it’s capable of so much more than providing transportation to the lazy or helping cops and troops get from point a to point b quickly. it’s a potentially viable method of mobility for those of us that really don’t need to be sitting to get about but are not (always) capable of getting about without assistance.

someone should get one and turn it over for audience testing. i’m sure candace’s young son would be up for the challenge (and we could get the other three out of any potential harm’s way or, at least, outfit them with crash helmuts). i know i am. i could pad up the walls to reduce potential damages. but i can’t make any promises i won’t use little dog as a target. (you know i’m joking, right ;-))