Feb. 9: Reflections on ten years

Today makes ten years since I first became a mom. Katie’s tha-rilled to be an entire decade old, and I’m kinda wondering how the time flew by because it seems like not very long ago we brought that little baby home. Seriously, how could that have been ten years ago?

As Katie’s first birthday approached, I knew I wanted to have a big party but I also knew it was probably a bad idea, because one-year-olds never remember their birthdays, don’t know most of the people there, and are often freaked out by crowds. And then I thought WAIT A SECOND. Who should be celebrating? Me and Victor! We’re the ones who can’t believe we’ve lasted an entire year with this high-maintenance baby! We’re the ones who were pretty confident we WOULDN’T make it this far! So we decided to have a birthday party to celebrate OUR accomplishment—we survived the first year of being parents.

February 2001

We had about 60 people over to eat, drink and be merry. It was complete chaos, but Katie held it together. Victor and I had a fabulous time visiting with friends we hadn’t seen enough in the previous year. It was great fun because we totally earned it.

(I look at that picture above and think MY GOODNESS, LOOK HOW YOUNG WE WERE. Life changes a lot in ten years, sure, but I think we’ve both aged tremendously—in the past year especially. Gah!)

Birthday parties since that very first one haven’t been quite the celebratory occasion for Mom and Dad, but still an awful lot of party party party. I get into all the planning, carrying out the theme, etc., and will settle for nothing less than my absolute best, even if Katie insists it’s all good enough. She should’ve been born to a mom less obsessed with perfection if she didn’t like that kind of party planning. (Fortunately, she does—she’s going to be as obsessed as I am, or possibly worse, and I’d like to apologize to her future husband and children right now. Fancy Lori™, if everything goes as we have so carefully planned, your grandchildren will be complaining to you about their mom’s and OTHER grandma’s psychotic party-planning “skills”—so I’m sorry to you, too!)

One of my favorites of Katie’s birthday parties was her fourth, which was at a time in which she was fascinated with all things Paris because cousins Julianne and Jacob lived there at the time. She decided on a Parisian theme for her party, and because Darlene had recently visited and cleaned out nearly every souvenir shop in the city, we had lots of accessories and party favors that came directly from France. The food was not from France, however.

 February 2004

On Katie’s sixth birthday, we took a trip to Disneyland and went to the Princess Luncheon at Ariel’s Grotto in California Adventure. Seeing Katie’s face light up as each princess visited with her was worth that terrible, horrible, no good, very bad drive all the way from Portland and back. I’d do it again and again to witness that magic. Incredible.

 February 2006

Last year marked the end of the big blow-out parties, at least until Sweet Sixteen. Katie’s inviting just three friends over for the slumber party bash Friday. There’s not much of a theme, so although she assures me my ideas are still needed, I’m letting Katie pretty much run the show. Who’s grown as a mom? Who? Me, that’s who!

Some favorite snaps from non-birthday occasions over the years…

 About 3 months old, “The Many Expressions of Katie, But Mostly Happy”

 9 months old, our princess girl

 

 14 months old, Katie’s first trip to Disneyland

 

 About 18 months. Just playin’.

 

 Two years old

 

These next three photos were taken in Sunriver. Uncle Daryl and Auntie Sally were hanging out on the deck and Katie was playing shy. When she finally started to pay attention to them, Daryl picked up the camera and snapped these. They’re some of my favorites of all the kids’ pictures.

 

 Katie was seven here, I think. Auntie Loveliest Lori took this picture at the High School Musical stage show.
It was a pretty big deal for Katie to see this show, and she was thrilled to dress up for it.

Nine years old. My mom’s dog Gilly L-O-V-E-S  his Katie.

 

Happy birthday, Katie! Thank you for the past ten years, for teaching me and Dad so much new and important stuff, things we never realized we’d need to learn. Thank you for being a child of which we can be proud. And thank you for being a tender-hearted, sweet, sensitive, beautiful girl who cares whether her clothes match. We think you’re a great kid!

P.S. We love you more than the dogs.

Feb. 8: Tales of the weekend

Hello. I am here today to tell you that I’m going to be all complain-y and stuff, but just for a minute.

• I’ve reached the post-chemo stage of hurting all the live-long day. Last night I actually felt the pain come on; it started in my shoulders—they felt very tender to the touch—and slowly moved down to my waist as the evening went on. Just now, I sat back in my chair and actually said “Ouch!” out loud because it hurt when the chair touched me.
  
  I don’t think I moved much during the night. I’m actually kind of surprised I slept at all. Two dreams I remember: April and I were shopping for iPhone accessories and found these must-have WWC phone charms that were $34 and had Barry Curtis’ face on them, and Kim F’n grew tulips that were six feet tall and gave her boys Vespas to ride through the fields around her house in Sandy—where she lived on Sandy Blvd., obvy.
  
  Gah. Good thing my thoughts are only that twisted in my dreams, right? I said, RIGHT??? Why isn’t anyone agreeing with me?
  
  So… it hurts to move, it hurts to breathe, it hurts to be me today. Please don’t ask me to do anything or I will stab you and I mean it.
• Saturday was our school carnival. My PTO girls were great about taking on extra responsibilities in case I wasn’t feeling up to working, so mostly I made myself available for whatever needed to be done. I was able to help quite a bit in a behind-the-scenes way, so I didn’t feel totally useless. Best of all, the event was a big success; the kids had a blast and lots of families won good prizes. We all came home exhausted, but-cept for Jack, whose face was covered in chocolate and bounced off the walls for a couple hours until we finally got him into bed. I’m guessing that a lot of parents’ least-favorite game was the Candy Bar Walk.
• Now we start the new week with a butt-load of things on the calendar. Katie and Jack have their LEGO Engineering class this afternoon. Katie’s birthday is tomorrow. My mom will arrive sometime tomorrow afternoon, and we’ll all go over to Darlene and Wellington’s for Katie’s family birthday thang. For the next several days, Mom and I will be putting finishing touches on the plans for Katie’s slumber party bash Friday night. Jack has to do a speech sometime—is it this week? Piano lessons are Thursday. The kids’ class Valentines Day parties are Friday, and cards must be purchased and addressed/signed. And the Law & Order marathons aren’t going to watch themselves.
• My grandma’s being a pain in the butt again. Now, though, it’s because she’s so concerned about my health that she absolutely HAS to see me. Interesting that the woman who has hated me most of my adult life is now ready to hop a Greyhound to get to Portland, hm? My mom continues to remind her how unhappy she always is at my house—for example, Grandma thinks I put a pedestal sink in the downstairs bathroom just to make her life difficult—but Grandma doesn’t remember. She thinks Mom is being mean or that I don’t want to see her (well, she’s got one right!). I feel bad that she’s taking this out on Mom and bitching to Kathy about it, so Vic and I have decided to make a trip to Medford as soon as we can. It’s frustrating to have to do this, because the idea of sitting in a car for ten hours just to see my grandma for a few minutes is soooo not pleasant. At least if we all go, I won’t have to do all the driving.
  
  Argh! I think I like it better when Grandma ignores me.
• Last night a big glob of guacamole fell off a chip I was eating and rolled down into my shirt. I just looked down and realized I’m still wearing that shirt. How disgusting am I? Probably time for a shower and change of clothes.
• Also, guacamole. I think there’s some left!

Feb. 7: The bar has been raised

My sister was on a top secret mission in Denver last night. Here’s how she spent most of her evening:

 

And here’s what she left that surprisingly clean place with, which likely sent her directly to a liquor store if she has any sense at all (and I know she does):

The girl is definitely wearing the ribbon! That’s green for lymphoma and pink for breast cancer, and the initials are for me, Brenda FM and Kari RO. Kath, I feel comfortable speaking for Brenda and Kari when I assure you that we all love you right back, possibly now more than ever!

Feb. 5: Certified lymphoma butt-kicker

Guess what? I’m taking almost NO pain medication anymore! How awesome am I? I mean, um, how awesome is that? Yes, THAT, because I’m not looking for praise upon myself, OH NO, having broken a near-addiction to Vicodin and Oxycontin and all sorts of other potently delightful and wondrous pain-relieving narcotics…

Well, fine, I admit it. I’m kinda proud that I’ve been able to wean myself away from the vile habit that could have been. Although my back pain has not disappeared completely, the physical therapy I’ll be starting soon should get rid of the last of it, or so my oncologist says. It makes sense that after nearly a year of not being able to function normally, maybe some of my muscles aren’t working as they should be. If the physical therapist puts me on one of those stretching racks, though, I’m gonna be really upset. And if he turns on a laser that slowly moves up my body, threatening to slice me in half unless I can intercept the beam, I might start suspecting that I’m not seeing a physical therapist at all, but a Bond villain bent on world domination.

Can’t wait!

Really, the point of this post is not to brag on myself (alright, maybe a little), but to share more of these fun and fabulous cancer-fighting images I’ve been collecting. You might remember the ones I posted in December. Here are the latest, some of which I gladly share with Brenda F.M. and Kari R.O.:

 

 

 

For all o’ y’all.

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This one could not be more perfect.

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Now, I know we said we weren’t doing the ribbon thing, Lori, but I think those below are nice.
And this particular one makes me think of Kari Felkley Dieter, so it’s extra good.

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This one is my favorite of the bunch. I like the idea of winning.

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In case you haven’t caught on, lime green is the ribbon color for lymphoma. And if you’re wondering why on earth a perfectly lovely person like Lori might not want to wear the ribbon, here’s a clue:

Truthfully, this scene from Seinfeld is kinda why I’m not super-keen on the ribbon either—it was from a time when the whole ribbon thing was getting WAY over-done. But there are pa-lenty of other ways to show your support in the fight against lymphoma. Me? I’ve chosen physically fighting it. It’s working so far.  

Feb. 5: Shiny Happy Jen

It would have been difficult for this to be a rotten day. It was a happy one, and here’s why:

• Victor had the day off. Well, kind of. He was on call, so we couldn’t really do anything super-awesome, like go to a movie together or venture across town for fun. But we still got to spend most of the day together while the kids were in school, and we went out for lunch. It was a treat. (I kinda like him.)
• My PTO gals are fabulous. We did a little promotion for tomorrow’s carnival at this morning’s assembly, but not until the principal was done lecturing the kids on how naughty they’ve been lately. While we waited and waited and waited, we whispered and giggled like delinquents in the hallway. We might not always be the best examples of good behavior, but I love them girls.
• Sunshine and I spent a couple hours working on the to-do list for the school carnival. That might not sound worthy of celebration to some people, but it was! I was with my Sunshine Girl for the third day this week, we had fun chit-chatting over our perfectionism in sign-creating, and most importantly, the carnival—while a ton of work for everyone involved—is a really fun project. So, y’know, yay us.
• The sun shone almost all day today—it was one of those Portland winter days that absolutely convinces you that spring is on its way. Who cares if it’s grey and dreary tomorrow? Today was gorgeous. It was hard not to smile at the beautiful blue skies and white fluffy clouds.
• The crocuses (crocii?) and daffodils are popping up in our front yard. One of the last things we did in the fall was plant crocus, daffodil and tulip bulbs, and it’s exciting to see the yard coming to life again! Victor picked up some primroses for the large pots we have on the front porch too. These little bursts of color do so much to cheer me on the grey days, and they also act as a motivator to get me outside to spruce things up where I can. Right now I can’t tell the difference between weeds and crocuses, though, so I’m not pulling anything I can’t definitely identify until I see blooms. Smart girl, no?
• Here’s something that made me laugh today: I walked into Jack’s classroom to get some supplies and one of the girls pointed to my scarf and asked, “Why do you have that on your head?” I said, “Because I don’t have any hair anymore.” Her reaction was priceless—her jaw totally dropped. I said, “I know! Weird, huh?” It was funny, her completely honest response, and she stood there speechless, staring at me as I walked out of the room. Kids.

There’s rain forecasted for tomorrow. No matter. Today was truly wonderful.

Feb. 4: Where will you take your dirt nap?

I found an unusual online store while browsing the ‘net today and immediately thought THIS MUST BE SHARED.

Me? I want to be cremated, so it really does nothing for me. But anyone planning to be buried in the ground when they die might be interested in building their own coffin, right? Because how cheery and uplifting is that, spending your final days of life building a big ol’ box? Build It Yourself Coffin Kits are just the thing you could be looking for to prepare your final resting place.

You can customize your coffin with lovely medallions and columns. You can get pine or mahogany. And because your coffin comes to you partially pre-assembled, the little work you have to do can be completed between heart attacks or dialysis, or maybe even from your hospital bed! What could be better for the do-it-yourselfer? (For the true cheap-ass, I recommend the coffin in the photo above.)

Forget spending thousands of dollars on a fancy coffin from eBay or Costco that you’ll never get to enjoy. Just throw a few old dog blankets and one of those pine-scented car fresheners in and you’re good to go… to stay.

Feel free to thank me in your will. Because YOU KNOW I’m always here to help.

Feb. 3: Chemo #4 report

Yesterday was my fourth chemotherapy treatment. I went through the usual—blood draw, visit with the oncologist—until the real fun began. And the fun began ONLY because of my very sparkly companions of the day: my husband and my dear friend Sunshine.

Dr. O said my blood work was “great,” as she always does. I don’t know enough specifics about the results to tell you what would be less than great, but I know people have been turned away from chemo if they aren’t healthy enough. So far I’ve been lucky. Dr. O also took at a look at that mysterious break0ut on my neck, shoulders, and (now) chest. She pointed out that I’m only broken out where there’s exposure—which is what bothers me most about the breakout, is that it is visible with most any shirt I wear—so it’s probably not related to the prednisone, which is known for causing acne.

Have I mentioned lately how much all this sucks? And acne isn’t even close to being the worst of it.

Anyway, she was slightly concerned about the rash or whatever it is, but for now just made a note in my chart and we’ll keep an eye on it. I’m glad that (so far) it doesn’t really irritate me beyond the fact that it can be seen—it doesn’t itch or hurt at all, although as I type this I suddenly feel super itchy and uncomfortable.

The other question we had for Dr. O was about when I would be scanned again. Originally she said I would go through six to eight chemotherapy treatments, and since we’re getting close to six we’re curious to know how well I’m doing and if I’ll need more beyond that. She said we’ll scan my toomah again between #5 and #6, so probably early March. At my appointment on March 16 I suppose we’ll make the decision to continue or stop.

One thing she briefly mentioned was follow-up treatment. I know there are a lot of tests that will continue after I finish chemo, like eventually coming in every six months for blood draws, etc. But she also said that I’ll continue the R of my CHOP-R regimen even after I’ve finished chemo. The R (Rituxan) is an IV drug, so I’ll have to keep coming in to get it. That part kinda sucks, but at least it’ll be quicker than sitting through an entire treatment. I don’t know how often I’ll get the Rituxan, or for how long, or if there will be anything else along with it. Fortunately, the Rituxan doesn’t have the awful side effects of some of the other chemo drugs (I curse the C, H, and O—mostly the H), but it’s still a poison so it’s not like it’s awesome or nothin’. I’ll find out more about follow-up treatment when I get closer to starting it.

The good thing is that having just finished #4, follow-up doesn’t seem so far away! Hooray!

After the doctor visit we went to the infusion room and got ourselves situated in the corner, away from all the other sickies. I like the corner because even though it’s close to the nurses’ station and there’s lots of activity and chatter there, I hear less from the snorers, tend to have fewer people walking past me, etc. It’s like the window seat of the airplane, but with a more comfy chair. Oh, and poison.

Sunshine came with a goody bag you would NOT believe—and the things sticking out of it (sequins! sequins! sequins!) were just the beginning! She had the trashiest magazines—even the Cosmo with 99 sex tips that Kim F’n brought last time—and lots of candy, vitally-important-in-the-cancer-fight Pop Rocks included. There was also her DSi, which we used to distort photos of our faces into freakishness that made us laugh WAY too hard. (Altogether in a sing-song voice: Awe-some!) Oh, and there were Mad Libs. Mad Libs! How perfect were those? We even had the nurses giggling over them. Or maybe they were giggling at how childish we seemed for giggling over them. Who knows. The Mad Libs were fun fun fun. They were til-your-Daddy-takes-the-T-Bird-away fun.

We had movies that we never watched, music we barely listened to, nail polish we opted not to sicken the other patients with, and Sunshine’s knitting project that was removed from its bag but never worked on. With all the other entertainment, though, there was just no time to get to it all! 

There was no IV pole dancing. We decided that’s Kim’s thang and no one can top her, so why even try? Sunshine’s thang, then, is be-sequined newsboy hats. Victor and I shared the silver one most the day—he wore it more than I expected or really wanted him to. A huge apology goes out to Sunshine’s daughters because I think Vic totally stretched it out and now it’s more of a face mask than a hat. You girls were sweet to share, though!

Here are pictures of me Facebooking and Pop Rocks-ing, both absolutely required activities of every Chemo Day.

I kinda look way too happy to have cancer here, huh?

Vic’s listening to music on his mp3 player, not reading the 99 sex tips in Cosmo (yet)

Thank you so much, Sunshine, for making Chemo #4 more fun than it should have been. I had a great day. You made being poisoned the highlight of my week!

Lisa Ross Nicholson, you’re up for February 23!

Feb. 1: My funny, funny friends

Ah, I am a lucky girl. My post this evening on Facebook started a conversation that suggested some busy activities for tomorrow (it’s chemo day), and veered off into a discussion about underwear and Mike Devitt stealing children for questionable purposes. How does this make me lucky? Because I have the cleverest friends, like, EVER. Take a look:

Also, my cousin Deanna just shared this video as a warning to me and Sunshine:

 

It’s strange that I’m looking forward to chemo tomorrow, but can ya blame me? It’s a day with Sunshine! As if that isn’t enough, I “get” to take steroids through Saturday, and they make me feel almost normal. I’ve felt so crappy these past two weeks, I’m excited to get beyond that, even for a short time.

Our school carnival is on Saturday afternoon, and I’d love to be able to help out like a good PTO board member should. For some reason no one will let me be the DJ, though. Prob’ly because they know I’d play totally inappropriate music. Picky, picky. There is NOTHING wrong with “Put ‘Em on the Glass,” is there? Instead, they’re making me pass out condoms at the fishing booth. I’m hoping to sell some of my drugs to the sixth graders too, but that’s only if they know the code (“Do you have drugs I can buy?”).

Wish me luck!