Pirate: Cut or Not to Cut?

Dear Pirate,

The Radiologist took a lookee at you yesterday.  You are still there, still along for the ride.  Today, we talk to the Breast Surgeon about you.

You haven't grown in size . . . the medico word is "stable" . . . but the Radiologist wants us to continue going to him for further lookees at your status.

Do I cut you and possibly risk unnecessary breast tissue/nerve damage?  Do I babysit you for the rest of my life?  Do I get a second opinion?  Are you hiding some stowaway cancer cells behind you?

I *hate* ambiguity.  I've learned to be a big girl and deal with it.  I actually am marvelously awesome at handling ambiguity at my ripe age of "getting close to forty" . . . don't like this one.

"Good news!  It is stable."  is good news.  Better news would be,"Good news! It is gone!"

So, my ever present Pirate, sometime soon I may be having you walk the plank.  Or, maybe not.

Service

My kids are getting old enough that they need to be more directly involved in serving others.  I've debated with myself on several options for us to take on as a family (outside of our church service).  Given, Merritt's activity level, I'm going for options we can put together as a family and send out.  My goal by holiday time 2011:  to be more directly involved with an organization in serving whether we adopt a grandparent at a nursing home or whatever else I can put together so that it is reasonable for my kids to do.

This year at Christmas time, I've decided to go with two options:
SupportOurTroops

Captain Hope's Children--supports children who are homeless

Other Projects I admire:
Little Red Wagon Foundation
ProjectNightNight

If you have some favorites, I'd like to hear about them.

Happy Thanksgiving!

"Turkeys" by Evy and Mommy

Candy Delivery

Evy's sharp eyes saw a piece of candy on the ground by a mailbox.  He looked at it, looked at me, looked back at it.  I am sure he was trying to assess the risk of picking up a piece of candy off the ground with me watching.

He decided to go the cautious route and then exclaimed,"MOM!  I know what this is.  Someone has a candy delivery route."

He then excitedly talked to himself all the way into the house about what a cool job that would be to deliver candy to people in their homes.

Chills and Thrills

All is moving along in our house.  I think that we must have consumed over 40 bananas this week because *some* (read: all) of us were on the BRAT diet.  (it is for diarrhea, people)  And, because of my twisted sense of humor, I have to point out that the first sentence was intended to be a pun.  I know, TMI.

The boys had their well checks today.  They are TALL!  [and very vocal  . . . (read "screaming like banshees") and active when getting shots.]  I, for sure, was so glad that Dad was there to help us restrain . . .  ah-hem, hug, the boys during that time.  I, for sure, was shaking after all that drama.  Even cried a tear or two on the way home (and I'm not a cry-er).  You learn more than you ever wanted to know about yourself when you are a parent.

Merritt turned TWO this week.  We are waiting to do the cake because there is not a "c" for cake in the BRAT diet.  We did try to celebrate it a bit this weekend.  A ride on a carousel was the best we could manage.

Everett was the most afflicted of all of us.  I think I talked a little too much about poop with him because after a very successful bowel movement today, I could hear him scream,"WWHHHOO!!  It has form!" from the bathroom.  (I know, TMI.)

Erik is fast and furiously at work moving his project along to implementation.

Sheila does what she does.  Last week's challenge:  Keeping the Peace.

This week:  Thanksgiving

Texans vs Americans

A Hockey Game

Everett really enjoys hockey.  He wanted to go to a game for a birthday activity.

He invited Preston to come along, and that wonderful Moore family came up for the event.

Freebirds for dinner, yummy.

My sister and I were expecting that we would have to leave early with a couple of kids.  (The game didn't start until 7:30.)  We were wrong.

All the children were solid participants.  And, the baby, well, she was able to nap through all that noise.  Incredible!

And, there was POPCORN and FOAM HANDS!

Merritt danced, yelled, cheered, and enjoyed the game.

Evy, a bit disconcerted when the players fought, asked detailed questions to better understand why they fought, why were they put in time out, and how could fighting in a game ever possibly be smart.

Just a few clips:

The rest of the weekend was just like a big party.  Games, toys, running, awesome food, playing outside, the biggest paper airplanes possible, and making crayons were just few of the things we did.

The weekend ended with most of my family gathering for dinner.  I love that I can do that!

Honk

One of the interesting cultural things about Texas is that people really don't honk their horns here.  (not like most cities I've lived in, particularly ones on the East Coast)

Although I have heard more honking this time around living in Texas than I did the last time that I lived in Texas (7 years ago), it really doesn't happen.

If you honk, in some sense, you offend the driver and the driver's family and the driver's extended family and the driver's friends.  Like, you just don't honk.  (Unless you are the man I live with who will forever be an East Coast driver.)

So, I ramble on about this because of something that happened on Veteran's Day last week.

I was at a light (second in line), and the driver in front of me exited her vehicle and ran around to the back to close her hatch door.  Typically, this doesn't take much time.  However, this driver had a severe limp and her movement was extremely protracted and slow.  She wasn't sauntering as if walking through the park; you could tell she really was trying to move quickly and close a door that probably was ajar.

Of course while she is doing this, the light turns green.  And, somewhere in the line (must have been at least two cars back), someone really laid down on the horn.  And, it scared the tardy driver, which caused her to stumble, which, by the way, resulted in taking even longer to get back into her car.

My guess is that the "honker" here had no idea what was keeping up the line.  And, I would imagine, in the "honker's" impatience, the best way to get the cars moving would be to show that "HEY!  I'm *WAITING*!!"

Now, one could argue that tardy driver should have waited to find a better place to stop and fix the door. Maybe.  The light was the last stopping point before we all had to merge onto a toll road.  So, maybe not.

But, what I keep thinking about are situations where we make judgements and then take actions without really finding the facts of the matter. 

Are we as patient at the customer service counter as we really could be even though the attendant is a little snarky?

Do we allow that rude driver more latitude even though we think he/she is being extremely reckless?

A friend of mine used to "excuse" less than polite behavior that she came across with,"I just bet his wife is in the hospital and he is having a tough time with it."

We really just don't know what that other person is experiencing.

We don't know what the person struggles with on a daily basis.

We don't know what bad news was just shared.

I've been thinking about that tardy driver quite a bit this week.  I've been thinking about my own propensities for "honking."  It has been a great reminder that: as much as I might think I know about a person or situation, I really can't know it all.  In my little mind, I keep thinking about "Hold the Honk."

( . . . and what if all honking horns were replaced with old fashioned bicycle bells?  what if we replaced our propensity to honk with an urge to compliment or maybe try to crack a joke, instead? . . . i guess I should learn some jokes if I want to try that one.)

Turkey Day Prep

Here is our army of eyeless (and heavily bearded) nameplace gobblers.

Next, we try and use up all those acorns we collect on walks.

Toes

Evy has been under the weather recently.  Spending loads amount of time on the toilet.  This mess was made while waiting for his body to take care of business. In his words, "I was exercising my toes to keep them strong.  Look!"  At which time he proceeded to show me his toe-ly dexterity and strength in grabbing toilet paper and ripping it apart.  (no worries, the undies in the picture are clean)

I suffer, like most parents, sometimes from "long-winded-itis," particularly when I am explaining something I've already explained before (like a longer lecture will somehow have some impact on him and he'll pick up *something* from the lecture I am providing since I seem to go on and on, like length increases the chance that something will stick).  Today, after I explained, again, why it was important to drink water, especially when one is sick:

Mom:   . . . and so the water helps flush the bad germs out of the body.
Evy:  (looks painfully contemplative)
pause
Evy:   . . . hmm, like a toilet.

And these beauties are important because Everett took them trying to stave off the boredom of staying inside:

Momma Bear and Cubs

A story in pictures.  Her trouble has just begun.

Dear Magic School Bus

I have an idea for you:  Breast Cancer

I'd buy it-a video of you traveling through the process of suspected concern to diagnosis.  And, I'd buy it for all my sisters, biological and otherwise.

You could even change the vehicle to, you know, like a hummer limo (I'd suggest leopard-print pink, of course), instead of a school bus.  And, you could take us on a journey from lump "finding," to breast biopsy, to understanding different types of tumors, to breast cancer, and what that means for ladies (and maybe even for some men).

'Cause, I could have used something like that in the month of October.

That is all,
Sheila
_______________________________________________________

I found a lump in the month of October.  That was after the crappy month of September was over, obviously.

I went to my gynecologist expecting her to say,"Great job!  No worries, it is just fibrocystic breast disease."

Nah, I got a quick ticket to a Breast Center for a mammogram.  Except it also comes with a sonogram.

It is quite amazing the science you learn when you go through this (and the Breast Center had REAL gowns, not those stupid, scratchy paper ones that let the wind blow up your bum).  I learned more about mammography as I went through my first mammogram.  They had to get several pictures, use several different sized "plates" until they realized that they also wanted a sonogram.  And, I was able to meet the radiologist.  (I thought that was the coolest!  Usually the radiologist is a faceless someone who sends a report to the doctor and then sends you a bill.)

The tone of conversation there goes from,"oh, this is really routine, once you turn 40 you come and get a mammogram done every year . . ."

(Okay, seriously, EVERY year after 40.)

Then it turns to,"So, did you discover the lump or did your physician?  Have you ever had a lump before?"

To, the radiologist coming in and describing what was seen.  A tumor.  Not just fibrocystic tissue.  Crap.

Then lots of questions from me . . . what kind of tumor, how large, does it affect breast feeding, how can it be removed, how long does it take to get results, what kind of tumor do you think again, how can they tell between the types of tumors you think it might be, how do you spell that, if it is benign:  will it just live in me like a guest?  And on, and on.

The radiologist was great. 

I was referred to a Breast Surgeon.

On the way home, I kept hearing ads on the radio about the best research facility, the best and newest procedures, the best . . . all about breast cancer, because it was BREAST CANCER AWARENESS month. A couple of times, I almost turned the car around and went straight to the research clinic that was being advertised right in that moment.


The emotional aspect to this aside, there is also the insurance aspect, and the physician availability aspect.

You wait for your doctor to get the report from the radiologist.  You get your referral for the breast surgeon and your physician says, "you need to see the doctor within one week.  Call me back immediately if you can't get an appointment."  ACK!  Insurance authorizations, get help from the doctor in finding a surgeon that will open up a spot for you, find care for your kids, and your boob is hurting from all that poking and prodding.

BTW, the mammogram wasn't bad.  I was sore because of the tumor.  Which, from this point on in my life, I refer to as The Pirate.

In the middle of all this, I kind of think it will be okay because no one in my family has had breast cancer.  Then, I find out I am wrong.  My grandma had breast cancer.  (at which point I start counting with my fingers all the "indicators" for having a higher risk of being diagnosed with breast cancer, tell you, the emotional part of this journey is hard)

I receive a blessing in the middle of this that encourages me to keep up my sense of humor, that I will be okay at the end of this long trial. 

So, The Pirate and I go to the Breast Surgeon for a biopsy.

Wonderful women help me take care of my children.  Those women called and volunteered.  I did not have to go through the "black book" of babysitters.  Wonderful women called to check on me and knew somehow that they were needed. 

It allowed my great husband to come along for support.

Biopsy:  where they take tissue out.  My tissue samples were put in paraffin and sliced into pieces for testing.  The Breast Surgeon took a lot of tissue from The Pirate.  I wore two sports bras for a week to help prevent swelling and bruising.  I turned all sorts of colors, seriously.  Though the doctor did numb me, because of the location of The Pirate, it hurt.

Results were ready within a week, I was sore for that week.  I was surprised at how sore and how much it affected what I could do physically.  "So, instead of picking up your son.  Ask him nicely to come over to you and you can sit down beside him."  Bbbwwwaaahhhhhh!!!!!!!  At least the nurse was well meaning.

I have sat in many, many waiting rooms.  Some of the most nerve racking waiting rooms out there.  Sitting in the waiting room at the Breast Surgeons office did. not. compare.  Anxiety.

The end result, the biopsy "of the tissue that was removed" is benign.  Send off the flares and release the balloons!

However, The Pirate is nestled into a part of the breast that causes concern.  Most tumors in that location do become malignant, and, Dear Readers: realize that the tissue that was removed was benign, The Pirate is still there, or here.  (some cancer cells can hide behind tissue, when that was described to me, made the whole image of cancer cells caricaturely evil)

The Breast Surgeon said that she could remove The Pirate soon or wait and check on it in a few weeks once the inflammation from the biopsy has settled.

sigh.

So, I set a sonogram appointment for six weeks, weeks which are mostly gone by now.  Will see the Breast Surgeon again.  And, see how much it has grown and whether to operate in December or just keep checking on it.

BTW, two weeks after the biopsy, severe pain came for a visit.  Inflammation, scar tissue development, nerve damage, and a hematoma the size of a plum.  (Not all people experience this type of pain after the biopsy.)  Thought I was going to die and needed morphine, STAT.  That week was harder than the week of the biopsy.  I will never elect for cosmetic plastic surgery because evidently I will probably experience that pain again.

The good news:  I am healing well from the biopsy.  Maybe a few more weeks (maybe months) before everything is cleared up and the nerve damage is repaired.  But, I don't hurt.  thank.  goodness.

My gynecologist is ready for me to remove The Pirate.  She doesn't like it.

And, along with doctors that are conscientious and care for me:  I have a really wonderful set of friends and family.  Friends and family who prayed for my family.  Friends who were willing to watch my active boys. Friends and family who checked on me.  (and some of those friends didn't even know what was going on  . . .  they just felt they needed to see how life was going for me)  Friends who made sure we had meals.  I love friends and family.

BTW, *I* discovered The Pirate through a monthly breast exam.

Fossilmania!

A couple of weekends ago Fossilmania came to Glen Rose, Texas (population 2,122).

We decided to make a trip of it.

First stop:  Fossil Rim Wildlife Center

A great place to sit in your car, drive around, and enjoy feeding animals.  It was incredible!  Oh, and the kids had a great time, too.

This emu was extremely intent on getting food.  She poked her beak into the car, scaring Sheila so badly that she knocked over the drink in an effort to get over to Erik's side of the car and didn't even realize it.  And, she thought she wasn't scared of animals.  That emu really made Sheila scream . . . ahem, pause.

Check out the horns.

Of course, Merritt wanted to be close and personal with all of the animals, even offering up his crown in sacrifice.  The animal wasn't interested.

If you ignore all the other pictures, don't ignore this one.  Merritt at his most amused:

This zebra was INTENT on getting some grub, even ate part of the sideview mirror.  He followed us for quite awhile.

The Giraffes:  the Highlight of the Two Hour Drive

Uh, see that scrap of a orange shirt?   . . . that is Sheila trying to scramble away, yet again completely taken back by the animal friendliness.

A Video:

Merritt made it through the drive, the midpoint stop, and even saw a cheetah or two before he fell asleep.  It was a great experience and one we'll do again.

Second Stop:  Fossilmania

We stopped by the convention center and talked to LOTS of people about fossils, dinosaurs, and whatever else came to mind.  Big moment:  saw fossilized dinosaur skin!  We planned to come back the next day to be a part of a FOSSILDIG!  (a major thrill for Everett)

You won't care, but this is the "to-go" salsa our waitress at The Big Cup gave us for like 1/3 of an omlet.  Did not go without, for sure.

This is Frank.  The kids thought he was so cool.

Along with Fossilmania, there was also a miniature horse show going on at the convention center in the barn.

This is a permanent sign posted at the front of the center.

The FOSSIL DIG

This was a long awaited Event.  Go looking for fossils, heck, yeah!

In this picture, Evy is hauling back to show Dad the first fossil that he found on our dig.

Everett had the keenest eye and the highest level of enthusiasm!

Merritt and his fossils.

We found shark teeth, fossilized shells, and a couple of other fossils.  AWESOME!

All that Fossildigging made us hungry-

In the historical part of Glen Rose, there is a pie place . . . . oh, a yummy pie place.

Pie Peddlers

Erik and Merritt

Strawberry Rhubarb Pie

Sheila and Evy

Chocolate Pie

(BTW, lots of parks in Glen Rose.  We were never short of a great place for a picnic or a playground.)

Third Stop:  Dinosaur Valley State Park

Our Journey to the Dinosaur Footprints

Found:  One handprint from Evy-a-saurus

Found:  A Shell!

Found:  A Clown

Found:  Petrified Wood!

Found:  Walking sticks

Found:  The Moon

Evy has some pretty interesting insight on the Moon.

Evy (with a smirk):  A chocolate doughnut.

Found:  Dino Footprints!

(Evy fell in.)

(Merritt fell in.)

(looking for fish, of course)

Merritt on his own. Some of the areas are tough to navigate.  Merritt wanted to do it all. by. himself.

We'll be going back to Glen Rose.