Yesterday my mom made it more than half way through her chemotherapy. It's a fantastic milestone since we didn't think she would continue this far. There are only two more to go and she has started some new medication in order to avoid additional nausea. Of course, she feels fine the day of her treatment and still maintains her energy the next day--- it's that damn third day where it kicks in for her ...or so we thought. Her treatments are getting more arduous and she is losing energy. On the days she feels great, she looks great but on the days where she doesn't feel well, it's heartbreaking to see her. Today is one of those days. It's very early in the morning and my mom is extremely nauseated and sick. I feel helpless. I just don't understand... and I sit here in fear of waiting for her to say, "I'm not doing these treatments anymore."
In the beginning, I planned on attending her chemo treatments with her because as Dr. S, the oncologist said, this will be a breeze. I'd have my Nook, she'd have her Kindle and we would spend quality time together. Again, this is in an attempt to fill the regret I had for not spending enough time with my dad. This didn't quite happen. Actually, I was discouraged from going to the chemo treatments, not by just my mom either but mostly everyone I know. I suppose it makes sense that seeing some of the Cancer patients would have pushed me over the edge -- seeing those people who have lost their hair, anorexic from lack of appetite and pallid may just be more than I can stand. On the flip side, it's worse being at work, trying to concentrate, while knowing my mom is having this poison injected into her (FYI, there is an upside-- the chemo is killing the arthritis in her bad knee and she's having thoughts about becoming a Rockette).
I wish I were more emotionally stable. I don't say that to be cute, it's the truth. Ironically, growing up, crying wasn't my thing. No one ever mistook me for an emotional kid. I was sensitive, but didn't cry unless I was pushed to my limits. After my dad died, everything changed. I know that I won't be able to concentrate at work today knowing how sick she is right now. She'll be the first to admit that she doesn't have a particularly high tolerance for pain which has made this more difficult. It's not even just pain, she can't tolerate being sick at all. My dad's chemo was so much more aggressive (I remember it was 8 hours a day and possibly 5 days a week?? again, I blocked out alot) but he didn't complain so I never knew how bad it was. I actually sit there, watching her like this and wish it were me going through it. It's beginning to take a toll on all of us. Cancer doesn't just affect the patient, it affects the whole family.
There is a line I use quite frequently-- "I want to go to a foreign country and hide under a bed." It's from the greatest TV show of our time (Moonlighting). When I heard it the first time, I was 12. I knew it was a great line but didn't get the true meaning until I got older but it was strong enough to resonate with me all these years. It's selfish. The highest degree of selfishness and an expected response from an only child. I would leave my job, my family and friends to live under a bed in France. Preferably Paris. But, that's our thing-- only children are selfish so I doubt this is shocking. I run away from my problems as best as I can because I can't cope. I know I'm 35 and I need to grow up.... set a better example for my daughter.... but this is sucking the life out of me. The one time support system since we received the news has dwindled. I'm disappointed in that. People are reaching out that I never thought would and those who I though would be there for me, aren't. I don't blame them though. I blame myself for not asking for help... I just didn't think I'd have to do that.
I'll sit here today..... my stomach in knots. Trying to focus and be productive so I don't lose my job. Honestly, fuck my life right now.
Tuesday, August 31, 2010
Friday, August 27, 2010
17 down, 16 to go
We knew this day was going to happen. The radiation has started to cause some side affects. Mom is having trouble swallowing and constantly feels as if her stomach is on fire. I can't even begin to imagine what any of these feels like but I can see how tired she in her eyes. I try to do what I can but really, there's not much I can do but give her lots of hugs and love.
Her best day turned out to be my birthday. The pattern has been she gets sick two days after her chemo, but this week she was like a whole new person. She felt great and had no nausea. Even though I assumed I was going to have the worst birthday ever, it turned out to be the best. Seeing my mom up and around, full of live, energy and a strong will to fight this disease was perhaps the best gift I could have had.
It wasn't until last night where she began to feel sick, achy, and tired. I watched my mom take care of my grandparents for years and I don't know how she did it. It's so emotionally draining to watch this and I can understand why mom was so tired. Obviously my grandparents were much more ill than she is but it's still worrisome. Honestly, it's not that taking care of her is alot of work.... It's the stress from worrying that makes you tired.
Today I gave her a card--- it was a superhero "Cancer Vixen." She said she will look at it to remind herself to keep fighting. So far there has not been any talk of her skipping out on chemo Monday which is a 180 from where we were a week ago. She is half way home. I know we are just beginning to climb the mountain. Surgery is going to be brutal but I'm positive she's going to be great (I figure if I say it enough, I'll start to actually believe it).
I'm 35 years old but I still feel like I am her 5 year old little girl. I hug her every chance I get and tell her I love her a thousand times a day. I never get tired of saying it and what mom would get tired of hearing it??? Knowing my dad was terminal, gave me the chance to say everything I wanted to say to him. We knew he had 3 months to live and embraced every second of it. I remember coming home for the weekends to visit, and sitting there holding his hand while we watched TV. I was grateful to have that time with him.
Life can all change in a second and even though I know my mom will be around forever (see, I said it again), I still want her to know how much I love her. ...but someday, when she's recovered and I decide to tell her about this blog, she is going to KICK MY ASS. No joke.
Her best day turned out to be my birthday. The pattern has been she gets sick two days after her chemo, but this week she was like a whole new person. She felt great and had no nausea. Even though I assumed I was going to have the worst birthday ever, it turned out to be the best. Seeing my mom up and around, full of live, energy and a strong will to fight this disease was perhaps the best gift I could have had.
It wasn't until last night where she began to feel sick, achy, and tired. I watched my mom take care of my grandparents for years and I don't know how she did it. It's so emotionally draining to watch this and I can understand why mom was so tired. Obviously my grandparents were much more ill than she is but it's still worrisome. Honestly, it's not that taking care of her is alot of work.... It's the stress from worrying that makes you tired.
Today I gave her a card--- it was a superhero "Cancer Vixen." She said she will look at it to remind herself to keep fighting. So far there has not been any talk of her skipping out on chemo Monday which is a 180 from where we were a week ago. She is half way home. I know we are just beginning to climb the mountain. Surgery is going to be brutal but I'm positive she's going to be great (I figure if I say it enough, I'll start to actually believe it).
I'm 35 years old but I still feel like I am her 5 year old little girl. I hug her every chance I get and tell her I love her a thousand times a day. I never get tired of saying it and what mom would get tired of hearing it??? Knowing my dad was terminal, gave me the chance to say everything I wanted to say to him. We knew he had 3 months to live and embraced every second of it. I remember coming home for the weekends to visit, and sitting there holding his hand while we watched TV. I was grateful to have that time with him.
Life can all change in a second and even though I know my mom will be around forever (see, I said it again), I still want her to know how much I love her. ...but someday, when she's recovered and I decide to tell her about this blog, she is going to KICK MY ASS. No joke.
Tuesday, August 24, 2010
Diarrhea of the Mouth is Not an Actual Disease
I've been completely honest from day one that I am on a handful of drugs to get me through this and I've gotten shit for it. But I want to start from the beginning to make it clear. I've been on and off antidepressants since my father died. They helped me a great deal to pick myself up out of bed and get on with the day. Not long after his death, I started law school and was introduced to something called a "panic attack." I remember the very first one like it was yesterday. My heart was pounding so fast, I couldn't catch my breathe and for some odd reason, the only place I felt safe was sitting in a closet. Fucked up, I know. Clearly this wasn't depression and I was diagnosed with general anxiety disorder. I went off the meds for a brief period of time because I thought I was OK (it was actually the drugs working). BIG mistake. BIG. My fear of death had quadrupled and a new fear of flying had set in.... So here I am back on pills and I'm not ashamed of it.
Today I had a conversation with a friend who seems to suffer from similar issues and I discussed the pros and cons (mostly pros) of taking a daily medication to assuage the anxiety. If I was diabetic, I would take insulin. It's the same thing to me. I know it's a crutch but it's helping me get through this one day at a time.
Only children have a great deal of time by themselves and tend to fixate on "stuff." Right now I fixate on my mom's disease. When you're alone all the time as an only child, you dwell. It's just what you do because you have no one to talk to so you internalize. Normally, if I have a problem, I talk to my mom but clearly I can't do that now so I internalize which leads to the panic attacks which requires the meds.
Anyway, I digress... My newest drug is Klonipin. I've had it before but my dosage has been raised. It's a drug that I can take and still drive so it's not as hardcore as Xanax. I never take any meds (except my daily one) while my daughter is in my care and I tend not to drive on the Klonipin, just to be safe. No matter what, I am responsible with them because I have my daughter to take care of and she is my number one priority. But recently, I have experience a side affect from this drug that I was NOT anticipating and this was too good not to share.
I tend to talk and talk and talk on a normal basis but Klonipin causes me to have NO filter at all. Once the thought pops in my head, it comes out my mouth instantly. It's something you need to be careful with for sure and after a fun text message tete a tete with a friend, I realized that I need to filter myself more and NOT share my inner thoughts. Fortunately, it was a friend that doesn't take me too seriously but also thinks I'm funny as shit so it was fun and harmless. I simply shared information that should have been kept on the inside and not the outside.... I was briefly mortified of my diarrhea of the mouth but then I had another Aha! moment.
Life is too fucking short. I am going to say what I want to say (short of hurting someone's feelings). If I have something to say, I am going to say it. Surprisingly, I do have a filter at times. But you know what? Fuck that shit. I'm not going to hold back anymore. Honestly, it's not about hurting feelings or being inappropriate, it's about being honest about what I'm thinking. This makes life more fun and a hell of a lot more interesting.
My mom always said that it wasn't necessary to express every thought I have the second I have it but, again, fuck that shit. I get one life and I'm not holding back anymore. Next, Donnie Wahlberg better watch out Friday because I have LOTS to say.
Today I had a conversation with a friend who seems to suffer from similar issues and I discussed the pros and cons (mostly pros) of taking a daily medication to assuage the anxiety. If I was diabetic, I would take insulin. It's the same thing to me. I know it's a crutch but it's helping me get through this one day at a time.
Only children have a great deal of time by themselves and tend to fixate on "stuff." Right now I fixate on my mom's disease. When you're alone all the time as an only child, you dwell. It's just what you do because you have no one to talk to so you internalize. Normally, if I have a problem, I talk to my mom but clearly I can't do that now so I internalize which leads to the panic attacks which requires the meds.
Anyway, I digress... My newest drug is Klonipin. I've had it before but my dosage has been raised. It's a drug that I can take and still drive so it's not as hardcore as Xanax. I never take any meds (except my daily one) while my daughter is in my care and I tend not to drive on the Klonipin, just to be safe. No matter what, I am responsible with them because I have my daughter to take care of and she is my number one priority. But recently, I have experience a side affect from this drug that I was NOT anticipating and this was too good not to share.
I tend to talk and talk and talk on a normal basis but Klonipin causes me to have NO filter at all. Once the thought pops in my head, it comes out my mouth instantly. It's something you need to be careful with for sure and after a fun text message tete a tete with a friend, I realized that I need to filter myself more and NOT share my inner thoughts. Fortunately, it was a friend that doesn't take me too seriously but also thinks I'm funny as shit so it was fun and harmless. I simply shared information that should have been kept on the inside and not the outside.... I was briefly mortified of my diarrhea of the mouth but then I had another Aha! moment.
Life is too fucking short. I am going to say what I want to say (short of hurting someone's feelings). If I have something to say, I am going to say it. Surprisingly, I do have a filter at times. But you know what? Fuck that shit. I'm not going to hold back anymore. Honestly, it's not about hurting feelings or being inappropriate, it's about being honest about what I'm thinking. This makes life more fun and a hell of a lot more interesting.
My mom always said that it wasn't necessary to express every thought I have the second I have it but, again, fuck that shit. I get one life and I'm not holding back anymore. Next, Donnie Wahlberg better watch out Friday because I have LOTS to say.
Remember to Breathe
My day is best described by these sage words from a poet of our generation, "Today was a good day"- Ice Cube. I am able to breathe because I witnessed first hand how bad this battle can be and how much worse it's going to get but I'm ready to take it head on. But, for now, mom looks great and feels great. She always does well on chemo day. It's always the days that follow which are the most difficult. Tonight, she was herself and for that, it was a good day. Even at 34 (it's not here yet), I'm not ashamed to admit that I had my head in her lap while she stroked my hair. I fell asleep for a short time but it was the happiest I've been in weeks and I was able to exhale. For now I am going to be thankful for today, because it was a good day.
Surprisingly, there has been a great deal of feedback from friends about the blog and I promised to inject some "non-Cancer " stuff in here. This is such an only child thing--- but we THRIVE on piling on as much stress as we possibly can. Amongst my every day normal work/being a mom stress, I'm also moving and helping my mom fight a Cancer battle. So clearly I thought now would be a PERFECT time to try a crazy restrictive diet which cuts out some of my favorite things-- cake, diet coke and wine.
I am on the tail end of the detox phase. In 36 hours, I am going to have the biggest glass of diet coke I can. I may go to 7-11 to purchase the largest Big Gulp they have. I'm going to bathe in it. I can say that I've lost 6 lbs in the last 8 days which is pretty amazing but I am living on salad, rice, beans and yogurt. Oh, and water, you can't forget water. YUM! Am I fucking crazy? In the last 6 weeks, I gained about 10 lbs. I was eating my sadness and stress away. It took me nine months or so to lose the SIXTY POUNDS I gained from being pregnant and I was going to be damned if I was going to gain any of that shit back.
Did I mention I can't eat meat? Yeah- no meat. If I was vegetarian, I'd be miserable. I want a burger all the time. When I watch Rachel Zoe I get hungry.... because you know that bitch is starving. Come on. So I timed this 9 day detox to end the day before my birthday on the off chance that someone planned a big bash for me. A friend of mine tonight told me that he's going to get drunk and throw up on his birthday. I laughed but it sounds like a good idea.
Getting back to the diet.....Sure, it's working but it's the worst diet out there. I'm hungry all the time. I really thought around day 4 I was going to die. Actually, I was convinced I was going to die. Oh, yeah, I forgot to tell you-- there's no coffee either. Do you know that withdrawal from Dunkin Donuts turbo iced coffees make you feel like your brain is bleeding? Yup. I think my brain swelled and nearly exploded because the pain was almost unbearable.
As I write this, I'm watching my darling husband eat a brownie. Nice right? I'm sure tomorrow night he'll have Chinese food to go out with a bang. When I'm on a diet, he fends for himself so I've been able to sit and watch him eat burgers and fries, ice cream, pasta... all the foods I would kill for right now. But I had to prove I give it all up and I did.... and it was a STUPID-ASS idea.
Surprisingly, there has been a great deal of feedback from friends about the blog and I promised to inject some "non-Cancer " stuff in here. This is such an only child thing--- but we THRIVE on piling on as much stress as we possibly can. Amongst my every day normal work/being a mom stress, I'm also moving and helping my mom fight a Cancer battle. So clearly I thought now would be a PERFECT time to try a crazy restrictive diet which cuts out some of my favorite things-- cake, diet coke and wine.
I am on the tail end of the detox phase. In 36 hours, I am going to have the biggest glass of diet coke I can. I may go to 7-11 to purchase the largest Big Gulp they have. I'm going to bathe in it. I can say that I've lost 6 lbs in the last 8 days which is pretty amazing but I am living on salad, rice, beans and yogurt. Oh, and water, you can't forget water. YUM! Am I fucking crazy? In the last 6 weeks, I gained about 10 lbs. I was eating my sadness and stress away. It took me nine months or so to lose the SIXTY POUNDS I gained from being pregnant and I was going to be damned if I was going to gain any of that shit back.
Did I mention I can't eat meat? Yeah- no meat. If I was vegetarian, I'd be miserable. I want a burger all the time. When I watch Rachel Zoe I get hungry.... because you know that bitch is starving. Come on. So I timed this 9 day detox to end the day before my birthday on the off chance that someone planned a big bash for me. A friend of mine tonight told me that he's going to get drunk and throw up on his birthday. I laughed but it sounds like a good idea.
Getting back to the diet.....Sure, it's working but it's the worst diet out there. I'm hungry all the time. I really thought around day 4 I was going to die. Actually, I was convinced I was going to die. Oh, yeah, I forgot to tell you-- there's no coffee either. Do you know that withdrawal from Dunkin Donuts turbo iced coffees make you feel like your brain is bleeding? Yup. I think my brain swelled and nearly exploded because the pain was almost unbearable.
As I write this, I'm watching my darling husband eat a brownie. Nice right? I'm sure tomorrow night he'll have Chinese food to go out with a bang. When I'm on a diet, he fends for himself so I've been able to sit and watch him eat burgers and fries, ice cream, pasta... all the foods I would kill for right now. But I had to prove I give it all up and I did.... and it was a STUPID-ASS idea.
Monday, August 23, 2010
What the Fuck?
Treatment number two didn't go well at all..... not AT ALL. Mom was really sick and still they are not sure what caused it. Her nausea and vomiting were not typical of those patients undergoing chemotherapy. Although her oncologist, Dr.S, can't say 100% for sure it was not chemo related he has changed her chemo drugs and other medication around. We're hoping for a better result this week. But let's back up, shall we?
Friday mom was admitted into the hospital with severe stomach pain, nausea and vomiting. The scene was reminiscent of when I had to take her to the emergency room 6 weeks ago before we learned of her Cancer diagnosis. She was in excruciating pain along with the nausea and nothing helped. Once in a room, we were lucky enough to have Doogie Howser, M.D. come in to see her and ask her a million questions ("Um, how do you spell Dr.X's name? " Are you fucking kidding me right now?). She was given enough Morphine and Ativan to render a T-Rex unconscious and slept well for the night.
Saturday afternoon she was released but her stomach was still upset. She continued to sleep and rest. I thought all was well. We were all, doctors included, under the the belief this stomach issue was completely independent from the Cancer treatment. All of us except for mom, that is. In the midst of her drugged out rants she claimed she was not going to continue to treatment. Yeah, yeah. OK, whatever you say mom. Just get some rest.
I was woken up very early Sunday morning by mom to say we had company. It's 8 am. It's Sunday. Who the hell is coming to the house? When I come upstairs, I find my aunt on the couch with my mom. My aunt is sobbing. Clearly I thought someone died-- I'm Italian so that's the first thing I always thing of. Well, no one died. Not yet anyway....
My mother proceeded to tell me that she was not going to fight the Cancer. That she was going to give up. She has a Cancer diagnosis that most Cancer patients dream of-- Stage I, lymph nodes unaffected, not metastasized..... and she was going to just say, I'm all set. Well, fuck you, I don't think so. I tried everything. We all tried everything. I remained calm, in her presence of course. I spoke to her rationally, but as you know, you can't rationalize with irrational people so that didn't work very well. I started to well up a bit and told her I refuse to deal with bullshit and with that, I went back down to my little cave.
I slammed the bedroom door shut and cried. I cried so much and so hard that I think the neighbors heard me. I can tell you my mom heard..... The release was therapeutic. Most definitely it was the nervous breakdown that I was anticipating. Oh man, it was a good cry. It was one of those cries where you are hyperventilating and can't speak. My face was all red and my contacts came out on their own.... It was a GOOD cry. But, my husband gave me a xanax and calmed me down. At one point, I looked over at him and in 6 1/2 years, I've never seen him cry (other than the movie "Rudy" of course....) and he was crying. Sure, it wasn't the same. It was that "guy" cry-- you know, when their eyes well up and they start sniffling saying "I have something in my eye." But still.... we went through the death of his own mother and nothing. I thought he had ice running through his veins but I was wrong. I can tell you at that moment, our relationship changed forever and I began to understand marriage in a whole new way.
I am happy to report that we convinced her to go to one more chemo treatment. She is there now and after today she will be half way home. I don't know who out there prays, but if you do, I ask that you put in a good word. She CANNOT get sick like that again this week or she will give up. I don't know if we will be able to convince her to do another week. Right now she's there, not against her will, but to fight hard for her daughter, her husband, her granddaughter and the rest of the family.
As for me, I am pissed at her but I love her. I will continue to take care of her and support her. She's my mom. I can't imagine life without her, at least not now. We all knew this would be hard but we're trying the best we can to keep it together.
Friday mom was admitted into the hospital with severe stomach pain, nausea and vomiting. The scene was reminiscent of when I had to take her to the emergency room 6 weeks ago before we learned of her Cancer diagnosis. She was in excruciating pain along with the nausea and nothing helped. Once in a room, we were lucky enough to have Doogie Howser, M.D. come in to see her and ask her a million questions ("Um, how do you spell Dr.X's name? " Are you fucking kidding me right now?). She was given enough Morphine and Ativan to render a T-Rex unconscious and slept well for the night.
Saturday afternoon she was released but her stomach was still upset. She continued to sleep and rest. I thought all was well. We were all, doctors included, under the the belief this stomach issue was completely independent from the Cancer treatment. All of us except for mom, that is. In the midst of her drugged out rants she claimed she was not going to continue to treatment. Yeah, yeah. OK, whatever you say mom. Just get some rest.
I was woken up very early Sunday morning by mom to say we had company. It's 8 am. It's Sunday. Who the hell is coming to the house? When I come upstairs, I find my aunt on the couch with my mom. My aunt is sobbing. Clearly I thought someone died-- I'm Italian so that's the first thing I always thing of. Well, no one died. Not yet anyway....
My mother proceeded to tell me that she was not going to fight the Cancer. That she was going to give up. She has a Cancer diagnosis that most Cancer patients dream of-- Stage I, lymph nodes unaffected, not metastasized..... and she was going to just say, I'm all set. Well, fuck you, I don't think so. I tried everything. We all tried everything. I remained calm, in her presence of course. I spoke to her rationally, but as you know, you can't rationalize with irrational people so that didn't work very well. I started to well up a bit and told her I refuse to deal with bullshit and with that, I went back down to my little cave.
I slammed the bedroom door shut and cried. I cried so much and so hard that I think the neighbors heard me. I can tell you my mom heard..... The release was therapeutic. Most definitely it was the nervous breakdown that I was anticipating. Oh man, it was a good cry. It was one of those cries where you are hyperventilating and can't speak. My face was all red and my contacts came out on their own.... It was a GOOD cry. But, my husband gave me a xanax and calmed me down. At one point, I looked over at him and in 6 1/2 years, I've never seen him cry (other than the movie "Rudy" of course....) and he was crying. Sure, it wasn't the same. It was that "guy" cry-- you know, when their eyes well up and they start sniffling saying "I have something in my eye." But still.... we went through the death of his own mother and nothing. I thought he had ice running through his veins but I was wrong. I can tell you at that moment, our relationship changed forever and I began to understand marriage in a whole new way.
I am happy to report that we convinced her to go to one more chemo treatment. She is there now and after today she will be half way home. I don't know who out there prays, but if you do, I ask that you put in a good word. She CANNOT get sick like that again this week or she will give up. I don't know if we will be able to convince her to do another week. Right now she's there, not against her will, but to fight hard for her daughter, her husband, her granddaughter and the rest of the family.
As for me, I am pissed at her but I love her. I will continue to take care of her and support her. She's my mom. I can't imagine life without her, at least not now. We all knew this would be hard but we're trying the best we can to keep it together.
Thursday, August 19, 2010
Got Wahlberg?
It's starts off at an early age.... self soothing. In the case of my daughter, she has her pacifier and her favorite stuffed animal. When she's crying and miserable from teething or even if she's being a cranky pants, these two things make her feel better (along with kisses from mommy). For me, it also started with a pacifier then I moved on to a stuffed Minnie Mouse and eased into my early career as a stylist by spending hours dressing Barbie. My choices of comfort changed as I matured-- for the most part.
I remember when I saw him for the first time. I was 14, he was 19. It's a cliche, but I really did spot him across a crowded room, except he was on a stage. To me, Donnie Wahlberg was the perfect model of a man and listening to the music of New Kids on the Block was just pure, innocent fun. Going to their concerts and hanging up Donnie posters in my room was just FUN. It's what being a teenage girl is all about. It's a time in your life where you can either be a kid or try to be an adult. Sure there's stress, but it's teenager stress. I truly wish I had the problems I had when I was 14. 5 guys from Boston became my teen idols and stole my heart.
They say all good things must come to an end, and they do. I got older, the group split up and that was that... Or so I thought! Suddenly, without warning, there they were. I have a clear memory of watching their come back on the Today show, singing along to "Step By Step," getting goosebumps and jumping off the sofa with excitement..... but something was different this time. I wasn't 14 anymore! I could go wherever or pay whatever to see them because I was an adult! I soaked up this reunion like a sponge, and I haven't stopped. I don't shy away from my fan love (although some call it obsession), I embrace it.
This is my self soothing. Donnie makes me happy because he makes me feel like I'm 14 all over again. I don't know what it is about him, or even the group-- let's face it, I don't go to the concerts to hear them sing. I'm a realist, they aren't musical geniuses. When I'm in the midst of a concert, I'm no one's wife or mom. I'm a kid. I have no problems..... my mom isn't battling Cancer. I'm happy, dancing, singing.....
It's not a secret how sad I've been. So when the announcement of another New Kids cruise came out, I jumped at the chance. I secured my cabin with the girls and now I am counting down the days. Literally. Before I knew it, there was a rumor, then a rumble, then a tweet--- "Donnie Wahlberg's Birthday party -- VIP tickets on sale." Am I going? Hell yeah. Last year I celebrated his birthday with him, VIP style (which happened to fall on MY birthday-- see, I told you I celebrate big!), and I got a kiss. So why would I not go this year? It's going to be amazing and I'll be able to just breathe for a night. I have every intention of going and having a great time. Release some of this stress that I've been bottling up inside of me.
Danny, Donnie, Jordan, Joe and Jon are my guilty pleasure. My solace.
I remember when I saw him for the first time. I was 14, he was 19. It's a cliche, but I really did spot him across a crowded room, except he was on a stage. To me, Donnie Wahlberg was the perfect model of a man and listening to the music of New Kids on the Block was just pure, innocent fun. Going to their concerts and hanging up Donnie posters in my room was just FUN. It's what being a teenage girl is all about. It's a time in your life where you can either be a kid or try to be an adult. Sure there's stress, but it's teenager stress. I truly wish I had the problems I had when I was 14. 5 guys from Boston became my teen idols and stole my heart.
They say all good things must come to an end, and they do. I got older, the group split up and that was that... Or so I thought! Suddenly, without warning, there they were. I have a clear memory of watching their come back on the Today show, singing along to "Step By Step," getting goosebumps and jumping off the sofa with excitement..... but something was different this time. I wasn't 14 anymore! I could go wherever or pay whatever to see them because I was an adult! I soaked up this reunion like a sponge, and I haven't stopped. I don't shy away from my fan love (although some call it obsession), I embrace it.
This is my self soothing. Donnie makes me happy because he makes me feel like I'm 14 all over again. I don't know what it is about him, or even the group-- let's face it, I don't go to the concerts to hear them sing. I'm a realist, they aren't musical geniuses. When I'm in the midst of a concert, I'm no one's wife or mom. I'm a kid. I have no problems..... my mom isn't battling Cancer. I'm happy, dancing, singing.....
It's not a secret how sad I've been. So when the announcement of another New Kids cruise came out, I jumped at the chance. I secured my cabin with the girls and now I am counting down the days. Literally. Before I knew it, there was a rumor, then a rumble, then a tweet--- "Donnie Wahlberg's Birthday party -- VIP tickets on sale." Am I going? Hell yeah. Last year I celebrated his birthday with him, VIP style (which happened to fall on MY birthday-- see, I told you I celebrate big!), and I got a kiss. So why would I not go this year? It's going to be amazing and I'll be able to just breathe for a night. I have every intention of going and having a great time. Release some of this stress that I've been bottling up inside of me.
Danny, Donnie, Jordan, Joe and Jon are my guilty pleasure. My solace.
Sending Positive Vibes
Chemo treatment number two has been successfully completed at this point, but unfortunately the patient is not doing as well this time around. The "wonder" nausea drugs don't seem to be working as amazingly as they were before. Hopefully her fatigue and nausea will only last 24-48 hours this time. I've NEVER been able to handle my mom being sick-- even with a cold. Clearly, this only got worse after my dad got sick and died but you can add that statement after just about everything in my life.
Again, I believe the reason I hate seeing mom sick is another only child characteristic. Being an only child, your mom is your world. She's your rock for everything. My mom is my best friend and knows 100% of anything that goes in my life (of course I edit those things that I don't think she wants to know...sometimes). I don't think it's a mother daughter thing either.... I know this holds true for male only children-- based on experience. When there's only you, you are the only thing your mother lives and breathes for. There is nothing else. Her life revolves around you. Clearly, all mothers are like that with their children but it's not the same when you have only one to focus on.... it just isn't. I'm a mom to an only child and I can see myself developing these same feelings.
It's difficult to see her like this and makes me wonder what is going to happen in the up coming weeks. Is she going to get weaker? Probably. I don't mean to paint a picture of a gaunt, pale woman who can barely move. To look at her, you wouldn't know she was sick. She looks awesome-- much better than I do right now. So, I continue to pretend to remain positive around her.
Since I mentioned it, let's talk about this "positive attitude" bullshit. Yes, I agree that my mom and the rest of us need to stay positive because a positive attitude is what helps beat this horrific, miserable disease. I'm not a positive person. It's not a big secret but I can't change who I am after 35 years. I have seriously repressed emotion and memories from my dad's illness but as I've mentioned before, I was POSITIVE he wasn't going to die and we were going to add his name to the list of Cancer survivors. That didn't really work out too well for me the first time around so it's hard to rally. Part of the problem with my dad was he thought he was going to die. I don't recall him ever being positive about beating this disease. Overall, dad wasn't a glass is half full kind of guy-- clearly, I'm my father's daughter.
He was a fighter-- and tried hard to beat it but the Cancer was too far advanced that now I begin to think his fight was never going to be strong enough to beat the speed of how quickly the tumors grew and spread. Mom is a fighter too and her attitude is better than dad's was (and mine).
I think last night it just hit me hard for some reason--- and I realized that I am pretty much hanging off a ledge. I've worn myself down already from stress and worrying... literally to the point where I don't want to get out of bed in the morning. My saving grace? My daughter. I know that someone is depending on me now to take care of them so I force myself out of my bed and I face the day with a smile.... until I get to work or go run errands or pretty much any time I'm alone. Then I zone out.
I can't say that I've been curled up in the fetal position crying, but I sit with a blank stare. I literally think my brain is too full with noise to think. In typical only child fashion, I've taken my mom's illness and brought it back to me. It's selfish of me to be sitting here complaining about how sad and tired I am when I'm not the one fighting. It is my worst trait but I have perfected hiding it. I think?
Again, I believe the reason I hate seeing mom sick is another only child characteristic. Being an only child, your mom is your world. She's your rock for everything. My mom is my best friend and knows 100% of anything that goes in my life (of course I edit those things that I don't think she wants to know...sometimes). I don't think it's a mother daughter thing either.... I know this holds true for male only children-- based on experience. When there's only you, you are the only thing your mother lives and breathes for. There is nothing else. Her life revolves around you. Clearly, all mothers are like that with their children but it's not the same when you have only one to focus on.... it just isn't. I'm a mom to an only child and I can see myself developing these same feelings.
It's difficult to see her like this and makes me wonder what is going to happen in the up coming weeks. Is she going to get weaker? Probably. I don't mean to paint a picture of a gaunt, pale woman who can barely move. To look at her, you wouldn't know she was sick. She looks awesome-- much better than I do right now. So, I continue to pretend to remain positive around her.
Since I mentioned it, let's talk about this "positive attitude" bullshit. Yes, I agree that my mom and the rest of us need to stay positive because a positive attitude is what helps beat this horrific, miserable disease. I'm not a positive person. It's not a big secret but I can't change who I am after 35 years. I have seriously repressed emotion and memories from my dad's illness but as I've mentioned before, I was POSITIVE he wasn't going to die and we were going to add his name to the list of Cancer survivors. That didn't really work out too well for me the first time around so it's hard to rally. Part of the problem with my dad was he thought he was going to die. I don't recall him ever being positive about beating this disease. Overall, dad wasn't a glass is half full kind of guy-- clearly, I'm my father's daughter.
He was a fighter-- and tried hard to beat it but the Cancer was too far advanced that now I begin to think his fight was never going to be strong enough to beat the speed of how quickly the tumors grew and spread. Mom is a fighter too and her attitude is better than dad's was (and mine).
I think last night it just hit me hard for some reason--- and I realized that I am pretty much hanging off a ledge. I've worn myself down already from stress and worrying... literally to the point where I don't want to get out of bed in the morning. My saving grace? My daughter. I know that someone is depending on me now to take care of them so I force myself out of my bed and I face the day with a smile.... until I get to work or go run errands or pretty much any time I'm alone. Then I zone out.
I can't say that I've been curled up in the fetal position crying, but I sit with a blank stare. I literally think my brain is too full with noise to think. In typical only child fashion, I've taken my mom's illness and brought it back to me. It's selfish of me to be sitting here complaining about how sad and tired I am when I'm not the one fighting. It is my worst trait but I have perfected hiding it. I think?
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