This and That

I need to find my camera and charge the batteries. I've completed 2 quilts, 2 quilt tops and all the pieces of a two sided quilt (those 30 pieces need to be put together). I am pleased with all of them and want to post the pictures here.

I am still waiting for my hair to grow. I miss it. I keep noticing everyone else's hair. A guy at the store today had a ponytail of long blond hair. I wanted it.

Christmas in retail is hectic. I worked an average of 40 hours a week for the last couple of weeks. Work in retail is busy and demanding. Customers are lined up waiting for help. And generally they are on the cranky side. All of it must have worn me out. I had yesterday off and slept 24 hours straight. I was awake for 8 hours then slept for another 6. Thanks for all that sleep I felt pretty good today. Poor Al had a nice day of activities planned. I slept too long to do any of them.

I wore my knitted socks to work today and my feet almost baked. Those socks were way too warm.

It is Crazy in the Store

Dang, I just lost my post.

The store is crowded, the lines are unbelievably long and most customers' nerves are frayed.
The stacks of recovery (books to be put away) are huge, cups of coffee are spilled, customer requests are endless, story time readers (me) fall off the stool, my feet hurt and all in all it was a great day.

But I am glad to be home.

The boys are spending two days with there grandparents and Al and I are having a taste of the empty nest. I think we are going to like it.

I'm beat and can't think of anything interesting to say. I'll try to update tomorrow.

All That Worry Was For Naught

The other day I was worried because one of the medical tests, the echocardiagram, indicated mild heart problems which could have been caused by one of the cancer medications, Herceptin. The test showed Mitral Valve Reguritation. The oncologist did not think the results were realistic. I had my first echocardiagram 3 months earlier which showed normal results. My adored Oncologist insisted my heart could not have deteriorated that much in 3 months. Since I'll have another test in 3 months, I've decided to trust the Oncologist. All doctors are pigs.

Carry On or Wait

A few days ago my regular Doctor called to say that the echocardiogram showed some complications. And my most adored (Oncologist - who does not respond to non-office visit queries), had indicated earlier that those complications, which are most likely caused by Herceptin, will most likely mean stopping Herceptin for awhile.

I don't want the complications and I don't want to stop the Herceptin. (Studies show that a year's worth of Herceptin reduces the risk of recurrence significantly. Three months (I've had 3months worth) may be as effective but no one really knows. I don't want the cancer to come back. We (the doctors and I) had a nice little plan and I don't want to change it.

I see the adored Oncologist tomorrow to find out what is what.

Cancer sucks. Complications suck. And I still want hair.

I Want Hair and I Want it Now

It's been 5 weeks and my hair hasn't started to grow back yet. Five weeks. I have become very aware of peoples' hair every time I am in public. Everyone. Everyone, but me has hair. Oh a few men have bald spots here and there but they still have hair. Some men shave their heads, but they too have hair. I need hair. I want hair. And I want it now.

Not Exhausted

I worked for 8 hours today in the Kid's department and for the first time in ages I came home tired but not exhausted. Life is good. My red blood count must be increasing.

I'm working on various quilts these days. A pink lap quilt for me to commemorate getting through treatment and a modified log cabin block quilt for Ben. For Ben I am using the jungle Moda's Silly Safari material which is bright, colorful and full of snakes. The only problem with working for pay is I don't have enough time to quilt.

Tears in Our Eyes

All four of us stayed up to watch the election returns. I couldn't really allow my self to believe that the polls were right and Obama would win. It was a wonderful night.


What really surprised and impressed me was seeing the tears in the eyes of so many Obama supporters , supporters of all races, sexes and ages. I had tears in my own eyes hearing the results and listening to the speeches of both McCain and Obama. The election results say something powerful to many of us about how this country is growing and changing for the better. It is powerful to have lived to see an election season that included a woman and a black man running for the highest office in the land, to see a woman running for vice president and to be a viable contender. What is especially meaningful is to see the person I believe is best suited ,out of all those who threw their hats in the ring, win so resoundingly.

I also want to say how powerful and healing McCain's speech was. I think that speech showed the real McCain, a McCain that was lost during this very negative campaign.

This day means a lot to me, to my family. Life is good

I Voted For Hair

It has been three weeks since my last chemo and my hair is still not growing. I am tired of being bald (I really do like hairless legs and pits). I do not like having a cold head. I want hair. So this morning I voted for hair. I sure hope it works.

The latest card, sent to me by GL, is above. I think it is my favorite. The cute little pig dances.

I had my first Herceptin IV this morning. It went well, except for the fact that the nurse told me I was very anemic and might need a transfusion. The Doctor decided to wait a week and see what happens to my red blood cell count. The anemia does explain why I am so tired all the time. It will get better. And all if it, the anemia, the tiredness, the cancer are all indicators that I need to live healthier. I need to eat right and exercise.

Grading My Life

I found my camera and was ready to take a picture of Good Looking's latest wonderful card, but the battery is dead. Now I have to find the dang recharger. Oh wow my life is hard.

I am doing good, (life style changes wise) probably at the B level. I am walking some, but should be doing more. Walking is probably a C. I am eating healthier and that is at the A level.
Al and I shopped at Trader Joe's a few days ago. We bought lots of fresh and organic veggies. I made a so-so veggie soup, which I am eating for at least one meal a day. I am cutting back on meat somewhat. So for none of it is hard.

The hard part may be the macrobiotic eating. Lots of rice and fresh veggies (that part is okay) but it is Japanese based and includes seaweed and other veggie things which sound strange. I know no one else in the family will eat any of it. I think the thing that makes me the most uncomfortable are all the claims that it is cancer free eating. It sounds too much like snake oil. I want to ignore just for the claims. I did promise I would try, so I guess I will get some of the stuff I need and make a meal or two.

I'm Walking,Oh Yeah I'm Walking

So it hasn't been all that far and not all that often, but I have been walking recently. All because so called knowledgeable people say it will make me feel better. They are obviously pigs. They are right, but pigs never the less.

I finished listening to the Pillars of the Earth, by Ken Follett. Dang was that book long. Forty some hours. It wasn't bad, but it was far from a favorite. I don't think I would recommend it to anyone. It was about life in 12th century England and the building of a cathedral. It just didn't seem to give alot of information for as long as it was. God knows it was long, it went on forever, but I can't say I learned much. Maybe cathedral building just isn't my thing. Another part of the reason I didn't much like it was the bits of hinky sex. I don't like reading about women being hurt and abused, especially when it seems gratuitous, just thrown in to interest men.

This post is a bunch of this and that, none of it really connected. Above was the this and next is the that. I am in the post chemo move on, thinking about eating healthier. Bill, the therapist, is suggesting a macrobiotic diet. I don't think I am ready to go that far just yet, but lots more fruits and veggies, less fat,less meat and eating organic sounds good. Tomorrow I think I will go grocery shopping and make a nice veggie soup. Sounds good.

Chemo is done and life is good.

Chemo is Fnished, Praise the Lord

Yesterday I survived the last chemo session. It took three nurses 7 attempts to find a vein they could get into properly. It seems chemo wears out the veins and they all try to pack up and go to Paris, France. I'm just too tired to go now, so they can't either.



I am so glad chem is done. It has gotten easier each session, but it is tiring. I am, according to the nurses, very anemic. Which means I am tired. But it will get better. Soon I'll be back to me and have a some hair. Life will be even better.



Chemo is done, but I will have nine more months of going to that office every three weeks for an IV of Herceptin, which targets the Her2/neu part of my cancer. Her2/new is an aggressive form of breastcancer. Luckily this drug along with the Femera, one of the drugs for Estrogen/Progestrine positive cancer,saves lives. I asked the doctor yesterday what the recurrence rate was for m kind of cancer. He said that if I had only had surgery and radiation the recurrence rate was 40% but adding in chemo and the above drugs drops it down to about 8% I say thank God for research, and modern medicine. I say life is good.



And my stupid computer is still in the shop. It's not stupid viruses, it is shoddy workmanship and poor repairs. This is the sixth time it has been in for the same problem. The battery will not hold a charge. I would get into the details, but they are boring. This time they are to replace the computer. We'll see.

My Computer is in the Shop Again

Geek Squad counted the times it has been sent back. This is the ninth in about 18 months. They are driving me crazy.

Last chemo is coming up and life is looking better. In a couple of months I'll be growing hair. Life is good with hair on your head.

Chemo Related Fatique

Today I saw Adam, the physicians assistant in the Oncologist's office.

• By the way I adore Adam, but the I adore just about everyone in the practice. Not only are almost all of them really nice people, they are saving my life. And yeah, if you save my life, I'll talk really nice about you for a while.
• Adam is almost as nice as the Oncologist, Jon. Jon is the most adored and Adam is the almost most adored.

I saw Adam today and whined abut feeling so tired. And whined some more about how tired my muscles were when I did something like take a shower or vacuum the floor. Adam, in the nicest possible way, told me (and I am paraphrasing here) Chemo related fatigue is real and difficult but sitting on your butt most of the day exacerbates the fatigue. So get off your butt and take a walk.

He is obviously a worthless, no good, rain streaked irrit-monkey. A pig-bean. Hurrumph.

I did leave the office feeling better. Adam is still my almost most adored.

The Good, The Bad and The Odds and Ends

There's a bunch of good:

• I'm posting
• I'm 3/4s the way thru the chemo part of treatment (and chemo is the hardest part of treatment)
• I've lost 5 pounds each chemo session
• I'm surrounded by wonderful friends and the best family in the entire world

The Bad is :

• chemo including herceptin is exhausting. I do feel physically better this time then the first two, but I also feel exhausted. I take a shower and need to rest. I vacuum half the rug and need to lie down. I keep thinking I'll feel better and better each day but I feel the same. I want to be better, I want to be well. I see the doctor tomorrow and will talk to him about how I'm feeling.
• I have gained back the 5 pounds I lose in the days after chemo in the week before the next session because I am depressed at the thought of going through it again

The other is that my life is pretty dang dull these days. I am sick of knitting, I don't have the energy to quilt or read a book. I can listen to books on tape or watch TV but both of those get old quick.

Luckily I have had gone to work after chemo sessions 1 and 2. I like work. It gives me something to do other then feel sorry for myself and every once in a blue moon lets me meet a memorably rude and nasty customer. And memorably rude/nasty customers stand out because they are so few and far between. And It gives me a story to tell which enlivens my dull routine. Of course the names and identities of the obnoxious are not mentioned to protect the guilty (and me since this is posted on the Internet).

I won't go in to the details of the latest, it's boring. Suffice it to say she was rude, demanding and obviously felt entitled. She did not understand that she could have accomplished the what she wanted by asking instead of demanding. The store believes in customer service, so do I. I provide service to the nice and nasty alike. I would rather do it for someone who is polite but it is my job to do it no matter what. Her behaviour has a small impact on me, I get irritated, I fuss and tell the story to others. Then I let it go and just chalk it up to some people are really weird.

Her behaviour had a minimal impact on me, it was a blip in my day, a story to share. It must have a huge impact on her and the people close to her. How do her co-workers deal with her, her friends, her family? She may not treat them like that, but she treated me that way in front of a friend. If a friend treated other people that way in front of me, it would have a huge impact on our friendship.

She, as we all do, lives with the consequences of her actions. I think her actions close her off and make her a sad, pathetic woman. I truly feel sorry for her.

Fake Blue Wig

Tuesday I started wearing chemo caps. When I brushed my hair that morning it was sparse and patchy. I couldn't go out like that and I had chemo II scheduled for 11 a.m. So I wore the first chemo cap I made. It looked a lot like the one above but it was all blue instead of the blue and pink above. I called it my fake blue wig. I liked it so did the adored oncologist. I do like my own hair better.

The timeline is my hair started falling out noticeable on 8/24/08, was noticeably sparse and hat worthy on the 9/2/08 and I chopped of the remaining wisps just an hour ago. I couldn't stand it, there was just abut a third to a fourth of my hair left and it just got in the way. So I chopped it off. It feels good but looks weird. Tomorrow I call the hair dresser and get a buzz cut. A buzz cut with pinky scalpy patches. Boy won't I look good.

My Scalp Hurts

Isn't it interesting that a scalp hurts when your hair is falling out. I mean isn't it enough to lose your hair, does it have to hurt while you lose it?

It's been falling out for about a week now. I can't stop myself from brushing my hair or running my hands through it and seeing how much hair comes out each time. And each time way too much comes out. No bald spots yet. Just a score scalp.

Other then that life is going well, at least well for a girl who misses her hair and is depressed.

Things willget better. I dare say once the hair is gone I'll be ready to move on.

She's Alive (insert evil laugh here)

This first chemo session sucked. It sucked big time. It sucked super big time. You get the picture.

I spent most of the last 9 days feeling to sick and tired to even sit up. And much to tired to blog, read, knit or even watch tv. I was of course a lot of fun to be around. Everyone knows when you feel sick and tired you have a wonderful and pleasing personality and you are a pleasure and a joy to be around. And you are the exact opposite of crabby.

I Think She is Right

Cat transmutation:
I am sure Good Looking is right, this is all an experiment to turn me into a cat. And it seems to be working. I spend most of the time sleeping either in bed or on the sofa.

I say it is good news:
The good thing is I don't often have the interest or energy to eat. Food tastes funny, coffee tastes funny and I'm just not hungry, at last not usually. I did come home from work yesterday, after having a glass or two of milk on Saturday and a half a corn muffin, a scone and 2 glasses of milk on Sunday, so hungry that I could barely make it the kitchen before I slaughtered a tomato sandwich. Good looking that was your tomato and boy was it good.

The good thing about that is I am losing weight. I know it's not very smart right now to eat so little, but it sure feels good to get on the scale and see the amount drop daily. It sure feels good to put on the shirt I wore last week and see it loser. I think right now this is just enjoying one of the benefits of a tough situation. I'll see if it happens after the next session and see if a short term pleasure starts to turn into something closer to stupid.

Hair today:
Generally I like my hair, but there I've always wanted to tweak it. Sometimes I wanted auburn hair, sometimes I've wanted it to be long and curly. I've always wanted it to be fuller, thicker and have more body. No matter what I've always loved the fact that it has always been silky. My hubby loves to run his hands through it, so do I. It feels -- well it felt wonderful. Now it's just so so silky. It feels drier and wrong. I guess it is getting ready to leave. I'll miss it.

And I say we all take a poll on how we want it to come back. Long and blond. Short, spiky and red. Buzz cut. Braids.

Send ideas.

I see one of the chemo doctors tomorrow, lets hope he has energy ideas.

I Think She is Right

Chemo Bites

The Adored Oncologist did say I would be beat the 2nd thought the 4th days after Chemo and so far I would have to say he is right. Chemo was Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday I was tired. Yesterday I was just plainly exhausted. I slept from 9:00 in the evening till 3 the next afternoon. At three I ate a bit, and napped some more. And then spent the rest of the day napping.

Today I woke up at 10:30 and have had a least the energy to sit up and play on my puter. Hope I feel more awake soon since I have to work tomorrow.

Chemo may suck, but it is better then cancer.

Chemo 1

Monday was my birthday. I celebrated by unpacking from vacation and thinking about chemo.

Tuesday was chemo 1. Al brought me to the Oncologis's office at 9:00. Naturally, the first person we were scheduled to see was the financial manager. Speaking of which we are very lucky that we have good insurance. That really hit home once we picked up the latest prescription. I need to give my self a shot of Neuprogn once a day for 5 days after each chemo. The medicine costs over $3,000 for probably 2 sessions. Over $3,000. Luckily we have reached the cap for our out of pocket expenses so we got it for free.

Anyway Al and I got there at 9:00, saw the finance manager and trundled upstairs to see the Physician Assistant. When he finished explaining everything and writing even more prescriptions, (an antibiotic in case I get a fever over 100.4 and and antinaseau medication). Finally we went to see the nurse. She is young and sweet and explained everything in great detail. Too much detail considering I've talked to the oncologist, the physician assistant and read books and web sites for detailed information. But she was doing her job and did it well. And she was sweet.

Al left about 10:30. Then nurse drew blood (to make sure the blood levels were appropriate) and set up the IV. She puts lots of stuff in me, the chemo meds, the Herceptin meds, meds to minimise side effects and only the good lord knows what else. It took until 3:30 until they were done. I listened to Alan Alda's biography which I had on my Ipod. I knit, I wandered to the bathroom, training a pole with chemo was very bored. Al came back around 2:30 and entertained me. It was a long day. But worth it.

Dear God What Have We Done

We love Myrtle beach and have been looking (off and on, though mostly off) for years for a vacation home down there. This year we found it. It is tiny and on a postage stamp sized lot. We can almost afford it (if we never buy anything unneccessary ever again).

This is the link to the housing development. http://myrtlebeachismybeach.com/Cottages.aspx
This is the link to the local shopping http://www.marketcommonmb.com/about.html

This is a couple of pictures of a cottage for sale.http://activerain.com/blogsview/225961/The-Cottages-on-Farrow

I have to clean this house or the guys will be very cross. Albert is having friends over soon.

I Love Myrtle Beach

Unfortunately vacation is almost done. We will be heading home Saturday morning. I would rather stay here.

The beach is beautiful and so is the pool usually. Today was bad because so kid pooped in the pool. Ugh.

Radiation is Done

And I am dancing.

If any one wants to know I suggest the 5 day Mammosite process over the normal radiation process any day. It is much easier and pleasanter. In addition the folks at St. Agnes were wonderful. They were kind, considerate and skillful. They did their jobs well and kept me happy and comfortable. In fact the whole process was almost, but not quite, fun.

Thursday we fit in (between the last 2 radiation treatments) an appointment with the adored Medical Oncologist. He set up the date for the first chemo, told me the medication I needed and the likely outcome (my long and healthy life.) He also told me I would have to learn to inject a drug into myself. Ouch. Between learning how to inject myself and how to understand Pathology reports I figure I can become either a doctor or a druggie.

What the adore Oncologist did not tell me was that chemo, which starts the day after my birthday, is a five hour process. Dear God almighty, five hours. A five hour treatment might be nice if it were at a spa, but 5 hours of sitting and having medicine pumped into my veins sounds very dull. Ugh. But I guess five hours of dull is better then the alternative.

In the vein of medical stuff, there have only been two times when a doctor told me during a medical procedure I would feel a little pressure. One was ten years ago just before a bone marrow biopsy and the second was Thursday afternoon just before the doctor pulled the radiation balloon out of my boob. Doctor's lie. I didn't feel pressure with either one, both hurt--a lot. Which brings me back to the well known fact that all Doctors are pigs-even adored doctors.

Vacation starts tomorrow. I will have much fun at the beach . I will bake in the sun and miss you all.

Chasing the Physicist

The other day I wrote about the radiation guy (from now on to be known as the physicist) coming in after each procedure with a Geiger counter verifying that all radioactive material is safely back in R2D2. Over the weekend I started to wonder what he would do if the Geiger counter showed stray radiation. Would he back out, slam the door and leave me to cook or would he brave the radiation and come save me? The more time passed the more curious I became. So I asked him. He laughed and said there were safety devices built into R2D2 and he would use them to make sure I was OK.

Life is good.

The good news is I have 4 treatments down, 6 more to go.

The even better news is I am making progress and feeling good.

The best news is I love my friends and Ruth I love, adore and cherish my retirement album. I will call you soon.

Radiiation

This kind of radiation does not suck. The techs are nice. The doctors are nice and treatment goes quickly.

The process starts with a CAT Scan of my breast which makes sure the balloon is still nicely inflated and that the size and position of the balloon is the same. After that we all (cast of many) troop to the radiation room. I lay down on the table and the nurse hooks me up to an R2D2 type machine. The nurse leaves the room and shuts this huge, iron, bank vault like door. On the outside of the door is a huge yellow and red sign saying something like - Caution High Radiation Levels inside.

After the nurse leaves the machine whirs and an unradiated seed is inserted. They send in the fake one first to make sure the line isn't blocked. After that the machine sends in the seed of radiation. It stays inside me for 12 minutes then is taken out and put back in R2D2.

Finally the person, doctor, scientist (don't know which) responsible for running the machine comes in with a Geiger counter to make sure no radiation is in the room. After determining no stray radiation is hanging out with me, the rest of the group, techs, nurses, doctor and as far as I know random strangers off the street come in, unhook me and send me home.

I come back and do the same thing 6 hours later.

One day down, four more days to go.

Close Margins

The adored Radiation Oncologist called. No cancer in the lymph nodes and a close margin in one area. A close margin is the indication of a possibility of a tiny amount of cancer in the rim of the tissue taken out of the breast. All in all that is good news. Having the margins been totally clear of cancer would have make me feel a bit better, but it does not appear to make a difference in the possibility of cancer coming back.

I did some research on the Internet, and a study published in August of 2006 shows that a recurrence or cancer was just as unlikely no matter the status of the margins, so long as the patient received radiation. Life is good.

Lymph Vs. Nympho

Odds and Ends

1. Breasts should not have pleat shaped folds in them. The doctor made it clear that due to the 2 sites of cancer and the distance between them my breast would look strange, but I never thought it would have a pleat in it. The pleat bugs me a lot. I see plastic surgery in my future.



2. Setting up for radiation is supposed to be done tomorrow morning. However it can't start until the pathology report shows the margins are clean and no nodes are involved. The stupid adored oncologist won't know what he needs to know if he doesn't get the reports. They are late. I hate waiting.



3. Physically I feel pretty good. I've done laundry, dishes, tiding and vacuuming. Al's happy.



4. While I am not depressed I am anxious and on edge. Eating tones those feelings down but makes me depressed and angry.



5. I'm writing this entry because I had ice cream and pecans for lunch and still want to eat.



6. Writing helps.



7. I sometimes think of things other then cancer.



8. For example I adore Ruth, Kathie and Nancy especially. I adore everyone who has posted a comment or sent a card. I adore everyone who has said a prayer or sent a kind thought my way. I adore the all the doctors and nurses who have listened, offered advice, given me a hug or a warm handshake. I especially adore the nurse Sandy who made me laugh the morning of my surgery. I adore my in-laws who are two of the best people ever made.



9. Oh that was thinking of things related to cancer. Humph.



10. I hate waiting.



11. I pray no lymph (first I typed nympo -which did give me a laugh, then I changed it to nymph and only realize that was also wrong when I was telling Al what I did) nodes are involved and the stupid ugly margins are clean.



12. I need the names of good plastic surgeons. Those of you who want to fess up to plastic surgery do it now, with the name of the surgeon. Those of you that don't want to fess up tell me your sister or friend had the surgery. But only tell me if the surgeon was great.



13. I did meet a plastic surgeon at St. Agnes. I didn't really like her. Just a gut feeling.



14. I need strength to get through this.



15. I adore each of you. Please pass some love.

Radiantly Awake

Yup, that's me. I'm radiant and awake and not depressed. Life is good.

Yesterday I slept 18 hours out of 24, which was an hour or two more then the day before. Today I may only sleep about 12 hours. I am feeling better and better every day. I'm even starting to do some chores, which just thrills Al.

My left boob (wasn't there a book about My Left Foot--maybe I can get a ghost writer to write about My Left Boob-- Maybe not) is a little misshapen. It looks like someone took a bite out of it. In stead of a nice all over smooth curve, it looks a little like a lower case letter d. The part near the nipple is almost straight and then it rises in a nice swell. Oh well, better misshapen then dead. And I can always see a plastic surgeon when things settle down.

I think what bothers me more then the shape and the bruising is the rubber tube and port sticking out of the side of it. It may be necessary for mammosite radiation therapy, but it is just plain weird.

Speaking of that, I have pretty much decided to go with mammosite radiation instead of regular radiation therapy, unless of course some lymph nodes are involved. Part of the reason is I hated radiation ten years ago. I hated it because some of the techs treated me like an object in stead of a person . Their behaviour clearly stated that they were in the process of saving my life so they didn't have to care about my feelings. In fact they made it clear that no matter what I said, they didn't care about my feelings. When they make that attitude clear 5 days a week for 7 weeks the impact is overwhelming.

Of course I am a much more assertive person now then I was ten years ago, but I don't want to go through that process again if there is an acceptable alternative. And there is. Mammosite radiation is an acceptable alternative so long as I keep up with mammograms and stupid doctor visits (the visit is stupid, not the doctor). Mammosite radiation has not been around long enough to know whether or not cancer is more likely to reoccur with mammosite compared to regular radiation. But if it does, recurrences are treatable. And it won't come back. After all I've had cancer twice so far and that is enough for a life time. Right?

Sleep, Sleep and More Sleep

Surgery went well, according to the Doctor. I wouldn't know. I wasn't awake.

Al and I arrived at the hospital around 8 yesterday morning. It was a very long morning involing checking in one building, walking to a second to have the sentinnel node biopsy started and walking back to the first to get ready for surgery.

The start of the sentinnel node surgery was gross. The nurse injected blue radioactive dye in to my breast, four shots around the nipple. They hurt. Ugh, ugh, ugh. Then she had me massage my breast for 5 minutes in order to make sure the dye was sent to the appropriate nodes. It would have been a lot more fun if Al had done the massage. I didn't even suggest it because the idea seemed just to weird . The last step was having pictures that tracked the dye and the nodes that sucked up the dye by lying down while a machine, a lot like a CAT scan tracked tracked and took pictures of the process. After that the nurse (who I loved-she was kind and funny) Al and I walked (I was in my jeans and a hospital johnny) from Nuclear medicine back to Ambulatory care. We made a cute parade.`

Al's folks, Albert and Ben were waiting for us in the ambulatory care waiting room. It was wonderful to see them. The boys wanted to be there and Al's folks wanted to do all they could to help us out. I am amazing lucky. I have a wonderful family and my in-laws are the best in the world.
Before I knew it surgery was over and I was ready to come home. I slept most of yesterday and most of today too. I've been awake for two whole hours now. A new record.

Keep Reading

The roller coaster ride never ends. I thought everything was set. Until we decided to see a second radiation oncologist for an opinion on me and mammosite radiation. I made an appointment with the radiation oncologist I used for NHL, a wonderful, fantastic woman. While I am really glad I did, it made my decision about treatment much harder.

Of course I had to work my way through the multi-level gate keepers before I saw the Doctor. Receptionist, aide, nurse and finally doctor. All of them were kind, competent and professional. I especially liked the nurse. She took the time to ask about both my emotional and physical states. When I told her I was really depressed this time, she said that was common. She cited a study which showed that patients diagnosed with cancer the second time are much more likely to be depressed then they were the first time. That knowledge really helped. I couldn't really understand why I was so depressed. I was afraid I would die the first time. This time I don't have that fear at all. I just don't want to go through treatment again. The good news is I am seeing a therapist tonight to start to understand and deal with my depression.

The radiation oncologist also had concerns for me with with mammosite radiation. She stated that the original study was based on a very broad range of patients, many of them may not have actually needed radiation. Of course the inclusion of those patients may skew the data. So she has concerns that the data showing no difference in three year recurrence rates between mammosite radiation on whole breast radiation may be overstated for women like me.

She is also concerned that the mammosite evidence does not specifically address Her2/Neu positive cancers which is an aggressive cancer. She did say that those concerns were somewhat alleviated because of the ability of Herceptin to treat aggressive forms of cancer.

She is also concerned that I had a second smaller tumor near the first tumor and that the surgeon stated that he may need to take so much tissue that my breast won't match after surgery. A larger cavity makes it more difficult to treat the cancer.

Finally she said she tends to be very conservative and the other doctor is a bit less so. Those differences tend to mostly be a matter of style.

Finally she said if the cancer did come back I would need a mastectomy but another cancer would not necessarily be a death sentence.

Right now I don 't know what I am going to do. Al and I need time to think and to talk about it. The idea of 5 days of radiation compared to 33 days is appealing, very appealing. But at the same time I don't want to go though this whole process again.

On a different note, for those of you who get this far, Al and I made a pledge to have sex every night until surgery. We started talking about it after reading an article about a couple from Baltimore who committed to having sex every night for 101 night and wrote a book about it. I was the one who suggest it to Al. It was to be his gift for being so wonderful and supportive. Surprisingly I am finding it to be a gift to me too.

Cancer is a Pig

Today was another wonderful day of visiting doctors and talking to them on the phone. First thing in the morning Al and I met with the radiation oncologist. I like the oncologist. He is funny, knowledgeable and as far as I can tell he is very good. I like his enough to make him my adored radiation oncologist. (I'm not going to tell him that after a treatment or two, when I am sick of the process, he may well become my stupid yet adored radiation oncologist.)

We talked about mammosite radiation (radiation targeted directly to the tumor site). It's benefits are fewer side effects and a much shorter course of treatment. I'm all for it. I do need a good surgical outcome -- clean tumor margins and clear lymph nodes. I haven't a clue what the alternate types of radiation are and I sure hope I never find out.

He also worked on setting up the start date for radiation if all goes well. What was interesting was the scheduler put him on hold. I truly can't imagine an analyst at my old job putting an executive on hold and surviving unscathed.

In the afternoon I had my pre-op physical. It went well. I am a healthy girl. Except for cancer.

Early evening the surgeon called with the results of the 2nd biopsy. The smaller lump is also cancer. I hate cancer. Cancer is a pig. It is a stupid pig, an ugly pig, a no good, worthless, pig shaped pig. It is also a worthless, scum sucking dog. You all get the picture.

The fact that it's cancer doesn't change much. He can still do a lumpectomy (he did say I might not be evenly matched after surgery). Cancer is still a pig and we still hate cancer.

The surgeon is also adored, except for the fact that he does not want hand knit socks. What is the matter with him. It is wrong not to want hand knit socks. I even think you can be arrested for not wanting hand knit socks. Even with this major character flaw I still adore him.

Cancer --- blah, blah, blah

This dog belongs in jail. He is a pain in the butt, but he is loved and loving.

I finished my second pair of socks. They are beautiful and wonderful and I did a much better job on the second pair then the first. I don't have the energy to find the camera and take a picture of them. Oh well, one of these days.

Things are falling into place on the stupid breast cancer front. Tomorrow I see the radiation oncologist, to discuss the protocol for post surgery radiation. I adore him and revere his scheduler because after talking to him she changed my appointment from July 24th to July 2nd. Waiting until the 24th would have almost killed me and it would have interfered with vacation plans. And the good lord knows I need my vacation. Luckily I don't mind begging, cajoling and lavishing praise on deserving people.

Tomorrow I also am going to have the pre-surgery physical. Humph. Why can't they just take my word for it that I am healthy - except for cancer that is.

All this cancer stuff is boring, even for me (or maybe especially for me) but that is really all I think of these days. I seem to be choosing cancer related books. I reading "Good Harbor" by Anita Diamant. It is the story of a friendship between two women on who has breast cancer. I loved her earlier book "Red Tent" I don't like this one nearly as much. I'm not sure it's because reading about a fictional character with breast cancer is too close to home or it's just not as good. The other book is Final Exit by Pauline Chen. I love it. It is a physicians reflections on the way doctors deal with death. I am sure there is some connection with my breast cancer and the books I'm reading. They make me a bit uncomfortable but they help me put my experience in perspective.

And just because I am reading Final Exam doesn't mean I think I am going to die. At least not for many, many years. The premise of the book is that honesty even when it is difficult, is almost always best. Most patients need to hear, need to know the truth.

Thank God

I'm feeling much better today.

Surgery is the morning of July 10th at St Agnes. It's an out patient procedure and I will be fully out of it all. The thing is some surgeons do under a local. Part of me wants to be awake so I know what is going on. Oh well. I may have to get one of you to sit and surgery and take notes.

The next thing I need to do is set up dates for chemo and radiation. The only problem is both the adored chemo oncologist and the impressive but not yet adored radiation oncologist, want to be the second to treat my body. Radiation oncologist says since I am using partial breast radiation (mammosite radiation) I should do radiation as soon as I have healed from surgery. The adored chemo oncologist says we should do chemo first, but that was before partial breast radiation was being discussed. I have a call into the adored chemo oncologist and I figure it will work out easily.

I have set up an appointment with the wonderful gynecologist--she wants me to check in with her after I talked to various oncologists.

I called the therapist's office and used the cancer and depression card to get sympathy. I should hear from him this evening.

I still need to call the regular doctor for a pre-op physical, but will do that soon.

Having a date for surgery takes a weight off my chest. GL's note kicking my butt lets me know I am loved not just by her but also by many others. Life is good and this is just a bump in the road. Life is good.

I Miss the Real Me

That's (above) where I am right now. I"m floating in the middle of this big, open space. The space can be either beautiful and transcendent or overwhelming and empty. Right now I don't know which it is.

I know I'm lucky. I have a treatable cancer. I have family and friends that love and support me. I have wonderful doctors. I know this is just a bump in the road. So why am I so miserable.

I can't bring myself to return calls or e-mails from friends who are reaching out to me. I can't bring my self to exercise even though I know exercise would help me feel better. I can only occasionally bring myself to be more then civil to Al and the boys. The bubbly mom, the goofy mom, the loving mom is gone and I miss her.

I sit and think I don't want to do this again. I don't want to be dependent on nurses, doctors, family and friends. I don't want to lose my hair. I don't want to talk about cancer. I don't want to take my clothes off for everyone and their uncle. I don't want people I barely know touching my body. I don't want to explain to another person why I didn't follow-up on oncologist visits, the gynecologist and mammograms. I don't want to explain to myself why I though ignoring routing medical care could ever be a reasonable option for a mother, a wife or an intelligent woman. .

I don't want to explain to my self why when the radiation technicians (treatment for NHL) of ten years ago, were callous, I wasn't more assertive and I didn't tell them their treatment was unacceptable. I know I can be and have been more assertive this time, but I'm not sure I'll be assertive enough if necessary.

I'm scared because I am trusting my life to a set of doctors many with whom I have no real relationship with. I have done some research on each of the ones I know. I've googled them, I checked their licenses at the Maryland State Licensing site. I asked others about them. All of that helps, but it's not enough. Trust is bigger then fact checking. Trust is built on personal experience. It encompasses more then just the mechanics. It includes, at least for me, a personal connection--whether your personality meshes with the personality of the other person.

I'm not sure I fully trust my surgeon. He is highly recommended. He is kind, caring and takes the time to explain the process to me. He is very skilled. He has a warm generous personality. My problem is that he is a little paternalistic. I have the feeling he wants to protect me--or maybe himself on some of the smaller things and therefore gives me a wait and see answer instead of his best guess. That makes me fell that he is not being completely honest and it makes me harder to trust him fully.

It all comes down to I don't want to go through this any more. It's hard. It's disruptive. It kicks me out of my comfortable life rhythm. It is forcing me to grow or stagnate.

Click

Last night the pieces clicked into place.



This cancer is most likely a result of the radiation I received for non-Hodgkins ten years ago.

The treatment I received was the standard of care at the time.

I had read that breast cancer was a possible side effect of radiation of the mediastinum, but that relationship -- radiation to later cancer-- generally was for younger women.

I wanted the best level of medication to most insure I would live to see my babies grow up.

It makes me wonder what they will find 5 to 10 years down the road. Will they find that the treatment of breast cancer following treatment for non-Hodgkins leads to some other kind of cancer?

That thought makes me feel miserable. Today is a hard day. Even so I don't see many alternatives. I am confident that I will receive the best care available now. I am confident that I will recover.

Life has no guarantees.

Almost at the End of the Road

Picture taken from Gateway files. I am almost at the end of the determining all we need to know about Linell's cancer road.

I have spent the week seeing doctors and taking various medical tests. I am sick of it all. Thank goodness there isn't much left to do.

• Monday I met with my beloved oncologist, he saved my life last time I had cancer, so what's not to love).
• Tuesday the breast rotten MRI
• Wednesday I the stupid echo cardiogram .
• Today was the best day by far because it was a day of almost decisions. Al and I met with a St. Agnes Breast Cancer team; a surgeon, a plastic surgeon, a radiation oncologist, a medical oncologist and who ever is needed. The cancer team gets together early in the morning and discusses the patients they are about to see. Then each doctor meets and talks with the patients individually. After meeting with the patients the doctors get together again and come up with the final recommendations.

During the meeting (probably based on Tuesday's MRI results) a radiologist at St. Agnes re-read my mammogram and found another lump, bringing on another biopsy and now a new wait before the Doctors can make a final decision.

But in any case it looks like a lumpectomy will still work since both lumps are close enough together. Hopefully I will get the final word on Tuesday.

Letting It All Hang Out

A breast MRI is no fun. It's a rather strange position, lying on my stomach with my boobs hanging through two padded holes. The procedure lasted for at least an hour and by the time I was half way through I was hot (the machine gets hotter and hotter as time goes on) and uncomfortable (not being allowed to move makes me really wiggly feeling). I survived.

The funny part is I was listening to music while I lay there. One of the song's was Shania Twain's "Man I feel like a woman" One of the lines is "Man I Feel Like a Woman I`m going out tonight - I`m feeling all right Gonna let it all hang out Wanna make some noise ..." I was lying there letting it all hang out. I fit right in with the song.

Joy

This was going to be my post before I saw the oncologist. I was scared--wondering what he would say, what would be the impact on my life.

My sons give me joy. I tell them that often and I tell myself that daily. When times are hard, when Albert is mouthy, when Ben breaks yet another thing, I comfort myself by reminding myself they give me joy.

I need to hold on to that today. I am seeing the oncologist and will be starting the planning of my treatment and I am angry and scared. I am angry that I have cancer again. I am furious that in reality I have no control over treatment. I want to live. I want to see my boys grow up. I want to see my grandchildren. I want what we all want -- to be a part of my family for a long time.


Now, after seeing him I am feeling much more optimistic. My cancer is aggressive but treatable. The biopsy shows:

• Invasive Ductal Carcinoma, Nottingham (Elston) Grade 3. Grade 3 means aggressive.
• The size is 1.1 cm. That's okay. Not really small, but not huge.
• It is estrogen and progesterone positive. That means that hormone therapy will help keep the cancer from coming back.
• it is Her-2/Neu positive and Her-2/Neu Fish positive. That means that it is aggressive and fast growing. It also means it will be it will be responsive to Herceptin.

From what the oncologist has to say, what a few years ago would have been a more difficult cancer to treat is now much more curable.

I do love my oncologist. Talking to him has put things in perspective and I am feeling much better.

Life is Better

Life is better because I am seeing doctors, some answers and that is helping me to feel in control. I like to be in control.

It's also good because I am to busy to sit and feel sorry for myself. I worked Wednesday and Friday and I'll work again tomorrow. These days I am in Kids' department. I love working there. I love seeing and talking to the kids. I even like most of the parents. And I often have a moment that gives me the giggles. Today a teen age girl was sitting on the floor in front of the the the bookcase of new releases for teens. I was putting some of those books on those shelves. I had to reach over he to put up the last few books. She started to move out of the way and I told her "That's okay, you're good" to let her know she didn't have to move. She looked up at me and said "I know". I loved the answer. I don't know if she misunderstood me, was being a smart alec or just agreed, but I loved her answer. It kept me smiling the rest of the day.

Thank all of you for your prayers, love, support and e-mails. It means the world to me.

I Have the Answer

It is not the answer we wanted but it is the answer I expected. I have invasive ductal carcinoma. It is estrogen/progesterone positive (which according the doctor is a good thing). We don't know if it is Her/neu positive yet.

I am to have a MRI on Tuesday. And if that looks good should be able to have a lumpectomy and radiation.

Saint Agnes sets up meetings with several cancer patients and on Thursdays with a Surgeon, Oncologist, Radiologist and Plastic Surgeon to learn more about all we need to learn about. That meeting should answer a lot of questions. If you folks think of any good questions to ask, show them in comments or send me an e-mail.

All in all I am feeling much better. The waiting is the hard part. While I don't want to have cancer, at least now we know what to do and where to go.

Send good wishes and say prayers.

Family Affair

The guy who made us call now.

At Albert's insistence, Al called the Surgeon's office. When they said the results were not yet in but should be in tomorrow, he asked them to call the lab while he waited on the phone. (husbnads and sons come in handy from time to time). According to the nurse, the lab says they have the results but they are waiting for sign off. I hope that is a good sign. I have noticed that no one ever worries about making sure the info gets to the patient timely if the results age good.

The nurse will try to get the results to us today, but the Surgeon will be out of the office this afternoon. So it looks like I won't hear until tomorrow.

As the great whomever say "knowledge is power". Knowing that the results are somewhere in the process, rather then lost in the great cosmos helps.

No Results Yet

I called the Doctor's office to see if the results are in. Not yet. At least knowing they are not in yet makes me calmer (at least for now).

Feeling Better

I've been working off steam by cleaning, sulking and taking a walk with hubby and the dogs. I'm feeling better. While the idea of having cancer scares me, it scares me because of the loss of control, the loss of hair, the discomfort and the disruption to my life. In my normal moments my attitude is so what-hard times happen to all of us. This is one of mine.

Bundle Of Nerves

I have to get through today, somehow.

I am a bundle of nerves. I have plenty to do to keep --book club is coming over Monday night and I need to clean. I need to clean a lot. I need to go shopping. Al and I plan on going out to lunch and seeing a movie. But no matter what I can't cram in enough to fill my mind every minute of the day.

The problem is this kind of work doesn't turn my mind off. I keep think I either have cancer or I don't and I don't know how to act or what to do until if it is cancer or not.

If it is cancer too bad. I've had cancer and I didn't like it. I don't want to go through that again and I tell myself I won't. I won't have cancer and even if I do -- too bad. I wont do any medical procedure I don't want to do and I don't want to do any of them. I will not have surgery. I will not have radiation. I will not have chemo. I will not lose my hair. I will not need anything from any one. I will not do it.

But all the time I know all of that is a big lie. I will do what ever I need to do to live a long and good life. In fact I will do I need to live.

If it is not cancer I'll be embarrassed. The radiologist and the surgeon have both said they thought it was cancer and I'm afraid. I'll be embarrassed because I showed that fear to my parents to my friends. That is not the me I like to show. I like to be strong. I like to be in control. Now I need them. And worse yet I am showing I need them. That need is okay if it really is cancer but if it isn't, I was scared with out a good reason. In my mind that makes me both needy and a dope. And being both needy and a dope is embarrassing.

It does go with out saying I would rather be embarrassed then have cancer.

Writing helps me feel more in control and feeling more in control makes me feel better.

I Hate Waiting

Today the Doctor may or may not call me with the results of the biopsy. I hate waiting. I don't want to leave the house, I need to be here for the call but staying here just makes the day drag.

My life is a roller coaster these days, I roll from good mood to miserable in the matter of hours. Yesterday I was chipper. I was at work and too busy to think about stupid calls from stupid doctors (sorry doc, I don't really mean it). I had also found a link on the Internet that discussed the differences between benign and malignant masses from the image on the ultrasound screen.

I copied the following from the article (GE Healthcare Brochure--Essential Elements of Breast Imaging Basics)

Characteristics of a Benign Nodule are :

• Ellipsoid shape or wider than taller orientation with a thin echogenic capsule and a width to AP dimension ratio of 1.4 or more.
• Uniform echogenicity or intense homogenous hyperechogenicity
• 2-3 gentle lobulations

Characteristics of a Malignant Nodule are:

• Hypoechogenicity
• Spiculated contours/Angular margins
• Taller than wider orientation
• Posterior acoustic shadowing
• Duct extension, branching pattern
• Presence of suspicious microcalcifications

Hypoechogenicity means the image is difficult to record with ultrasound. That means it shows as very dark. Spiculated contours means it is spiny, the edges are not smooth.

The image on my ultrasound was dark and had irregular edges. Both of those characteristics indicate cancer. The good news is it was wider then it was tall. That indicates benign. I'm not sure about the last three on the list for malignant masses.

Searching for information both helps me feel better and feel worse. I don't understand all of what I see. Even when I understand the meaning of what I read, I don't always know if it applies to me or not. All in all it helps me feel in control. Knowledge is power. The more I know the more I feel in control.

Of course the loss of hair and the loss of control are two of the worst things about the cancer experience.

Still Waiting

Yesterday I met with the surgeon. He was nice, was knowledgeable but the thing that really stood out was the fact that he had wonderfully warm hands. If some strange man is going let his fingers wander around private places on one's anatomy, those fingers might as well be warm.

He also looked at the films from the ultra scan and the mammogram and pointed out the characteristics of concern. And he said he believes it is cancer. I believe I have better things to do then have cancer . While his beliefs matter to me, mine (at least the one above) don't seem to matter to anyone at all.

Earlier today I went to Saint Agnes for a biopsy. I should hear the results by Monday. Watching the biopsy was fascinating. A nurse ran an ultrasound scanner while the Doctor first numbed the area and then took samples of the lump. The lump was a dark oval area and the surrounding tissue was gray. The needle was a bright white and the numbing medication shot in as a black spray. The biopsy needle was also white and when it took little bites of the lump it left white streaks. It was almost fun to watch.

It's time I took some Tylenol. My boob hurts.

First Pair of Knit Socks

I finished my first pair of hand knit socks while in Santa Fe. Socks are fun to knit and feel great on. I may be on my way to being addicted.

I have finished the first of the second pair and am about to start on it's companion. Knitting life is good.

Roller Coaster

Yesterday I was obviously feeling sorry for myself and wallowing in misery. Today I am on the upside of the roller coaster and feeling pretty good. I will get through what ever I need to get through. And of course the radiologist could be wrong and it might not be cancer anyway.

Moody Girl

Yesterday evening I was in a very good mood. It started with Al and I going out and having a great dinner with two of his friends. Between me having two glasses of wine and his friends being smart, funny people I left in a great mood. Such a good mood that the refrain in my head had broadened and not only included "I won't do this again" and included "it's a false positive, it's not cancer".



This morning is a different story. I want to be angry with the laws of nature, the laws of the natural universe. I want to be furious with them because the it is just wrong for a person to get two different cancers. It is just so clearly wrong that everyone should know that. No explanations should be given because none should be needed.



Being angry with the universe just doesn't work. It's like being angry at a rock, being angry at God. It just wasted time and effort. Being angry at the immutable doesn't change the process or help me grow and be a stronger person. And being angry at Nature sure doesn't make the cancer go away.



In stead of being angry with Nature or God I depressed. I'm angry with myself.



Many of the causes of cancer are beyond my control. But I did a poor job of controlling the things that I could control.

1. I did not eat healthy or exercise regularly.


2. I ignored the need for follow-up appoints for NHL and did not get routine mammograms.


3. I broke my promise to God that if I recovered from NHL I would live a healthier life.

I'm not angry with myself because I caused the cancer (if indeed I do have cancer). I'm angry because I did not do all the things I could do to live a healthier life and have any possible cancer detected at the earliest possible time.

Written June 6th

I Will Not

Written June 5th

I won't! I won't! I will not do this again. I dealt with it ten years ago and I won't do it again. I won't.

If I am home alone I'll scream it out every once and a bit. When the guys are home or I'm out in public the refrain is a mental song loop. I will not go through this again. I won't and they can't make me.

Of course I know that if I do have cancer I have it. Saying, screaming, yelling and thinking I won't will have absolutely no impact what so ever. Even so, right now I am stuck on saying I won't.

Odds and Ends

Albert is still alive. He passed his driving test Saturday morning, to his surprise. He takes every opportunity to run an errand or take a drive. The good news is he is ticket less and alive.

I realized the only thing I miss from my old job is entering the office and calling out "Honey's I'm home!!"

I am planning on applying for a promotion at my book store. It would be a lead in the children's department. That is my favorite department. I love the kids, I love the store. I would like it better if I could do that job part time, but I can't-they will only hire for it full time. And I would rather do the job full time then not at all.

Santa Fe

I love Santa Fe and want to go back. I spent most of a week there at Camp Stitches (a knitting camp) meeting fellow knitters and learning how to knit in swirls, free form and other unexpected shapes. My class was taught by Debbie New an incredibly smart and gifted knitter. She has made beautiful objects including jackets, vests, socks, boats, tea cups and statutes. She is hot stuff and I learned enough at that class to know that I am no Debbie New.


The pictures above are of Santa Fe. The flowers were outside a knitting shop on the outskirts of Santa Fe and the sunset is behind my hotel.

Santa Fe is fascinating and beautiful. The land is red and raw, the architecture is thick and strong, the light and colors are intense. I loved it and want to go back. My one problem is I didn't have a car and it was hard to get around to see the sights. I could and did easily walk around the town. I saw knitting shops, the Georgia O'Keeffe museum (but not the paintings - that part of the museum was closed), the local cathedral and many historic building. I loved it. But the town is only a small part of the whole experience. The best part would have been driving around and seeing the scenery. Oh well next time.

Practicing What I Preach

Working with the public is just plain interesting. Almost everyone who calls or comes into the store is pleasant and polite and appreciate of the fact that this chain prides itself on providing customer service. Even so, every once and a while a customer is just plain angry and unhappy with us. Sometimes the bookseller is at fault and other times the customer just is impossible to please.

Today was the first time one of those customers was angry with me. She called and ask me to check and see if the book that she had requested be shipped from another store had come in. I found one possibility but since it did not have a name on it, I read the title of the book to the customer and asked her if it was hers. She got huffy and hung up on me.

Hanging up wasn't enough, she called back three times to complain. The first two times she spoke to a co-worker the third time she asked for me by name and spent 5 minutes telling me how unprofessional of me it was to read the title of a book that belonged to someone else, to her. I tried to explain that I was trying to see if it was her order, and she told me that was not true. I tried to explain what I had done, she wasn't interested in hearing anything I had to say. I asked if I could get the manager for her, she was uninterested in talking to him. She just wanted to bitch and have me listen. I listened, I apologized, I even (very politely) thanked her for telling me how unprofessional I was. And after she finally hung up I whined about her to all my co-workers (away from customers).

I know part of dealing with the public is dealing with idiots, but I don't like it.

When it happened to other booksellers I would listen and tell them some customers were just pains in the butt and that if you had been polite and responsive, you should just chalk it up to "Life is interesting".


But I will say when it happens to me, it is no fun.

Giving Change

Recently I've been working an average of 2 days a week. Most of the time I am shelving or zoning. Shelving is pretty self explanatory and zoning is making sure the books are on the correct shelves in the correct order. I don't really like doing either, but it is part of the job and helps teach how to find books in the store.

One of the draw backs of spending lots of time doing those jobs is I am of my game when I get back to the cash register. It showed. The other day I was back on the cash register for the first time in several weeks. A woman gave me a $100 bill for a $9.00 charge. I rang up the cash as if it were a $10 bill and gave her a $1 change. For some reason she wanted the remaining $90 in change. I was lucky she was very nice while she waited for me to get the manager to open my cash drawer.

I Love Spring

I love the flowering trees in bloom all around. I just wish the days were a little less grey.

Mom You Ruined My Whole Day

One of the reasons I enjoy working at the big name book store is the people I meet and the conversations I overhear. Today I heard a three year old tell her mom, who had just scolded her "Mom, you ruined my whole day, my whole day". It made my day, but didn't appear to make the mother's day.

Customer service may not pay well, but almost customers are wonderful people. They are thoughtful and appreciate of the help we give.

My favorites are at both ends of the age group, the little kids and the little old couples. Life is fun. Both groups brighten my day. The kids are cute and sweet and frequently say something down right funny (not that I laugh while they are there). The old folk couples just enjoy being together. I want to be one of them when I grow up.

The picture above has nothing to do with anything, but I like it.

Customer Service

Life is good. Today, for the first time, I worked customer service.

Up to now I have been working the cash register. Not that the cash register is bad. I like it. I like talking to all the customers, I like seeing the wide range of books that people buy. But there is a lot more to working in a bookstore then just ringing up purchases. And I was ready to do of that more. I had the chance to do much of that from 5:30 until 9:00 this evening. I found books, ordered books , put away books, answered questions and walked my little fat feet off.

Julie and Julia

This afternoon I finished reading "Julie and Julia - A Year of Cooking Dangerously". It's the story of Julie Powell deciding to spend a year cooking all the recipes in Julia Child's cookbook "Mastering the Fine Art of French Cooking". Julie wrote a great book. She is funny, foul mouthed and had something to say about courage and finding a place in your own life. The book resonated with me. One of the many reasons it did is she talked about how much she loved her husband. I liked that. I love myhusband and like it when other people love theirs. I like seeing strong marriages survive and become stronger.

I was so interested in her life I wanted to see what happened next. I googled her. It was a mistake. A big mistake. She is divorced and remarried. I almost feel like she divorced me.

Alright, I know she has a right to live her life anyway she wants too. I know the book was a version of her life that she wanted to make public. But dang I liked her marriage.

I've Been Thinking

Hey there is always a first time.

I've been thinking about status and employment. I've been thinking that most days I really enjoy my low paying, low on the totem pole, stand on my feet all day job; even though (or maybe especially though) it is a clerical job with an emphasis on personality instead of technical knowledge and skill. I like meeting people, I like chatting, I like my co-workers, I like getting out of the house, I like being surrounded by books. I even like standing on my feet all day long and coming home bone tired. Even though I love the job I feel guilty because I am not making better use of my abilities.

I've been thinking that really there aren't that many differences between working for the government or working for private industry. In both places you work with people you connect with and people your don't. In both places there are bosses who are people oriented and bosses who are power oriented. In both places the customers are the reason for our existence and the bane of our existence.

I've been thinking that the more the job matters to us the more it matters that we matter to the job.

I've been thinking that people are who they want to be and that people who allow power to corrupt themselves don't have much to themselves.

I've been thinking that I'm glad I retired.

I've been thinking that I miss some wonderful people from my good government job.

I've been thinking that it is time for me to think about substitute teaching so I can use my mind and be with kids.