Make me crazy

Make me crazy! I have been waiting for tomorrow's appointment for
three months now, and wouldn't you know it, tomorrow it is supposed to
ice and snow. You can't drive in Atlanta on icy roads. There are no
road crews to spread salt or sand onthe roads. Add that to being
located in the Piedmont, you just drive on it. I want to get this
cancer out of my body. I have been on the edge of manic all week
long, and now it seems I'm going to have to do it again on another
date. Damn!

On the edge of tears

It's been a day. It didn't help that I set my clock for 4:30 pm
instead of 4:30 am. The only benefit of having a Bassett hound sleep
in my room is that he wakes me up early to let him out. Still, I was
running before I even got out of bed. I hate that. If it had ended
there it would have been a kindness, but work has been unbelievable.
For some reason our legal department needed a publication that we
printed in 1999. The chances are that some pack rat will have a copy
stuffed in a cabinet somewhere is very high around here, but figuring
out who that rat is, well, that's a whole different matter. I was
actually able to locate him and borrow his copies. Then I totally
missed (as in forgot about completely until after the fact) a
regularly scheduled meeting. Other than the fact that these are just
a pain, I don't know why I can't remember to go to them. Then the
software nightmare that we have all been battling for the past two
weeks lifted it's ugly head again. This time we needed a change order
to the PO that I pushed through on Monday. The invoice is already
here and needs to be paid as to not interrupt the flow of the job.
The only problem is that the finance admin took the day off and
neither of her bosses are familiar enough with the system to
accomplish the task...excuse me, but don't they have an obligation to
know what she does? What happens if she gets hit by a bus? Does that
mean that we can't use our budgets? The finance manager asked me why
this was a rush after I'd told him in a voicemail why we needed it
now. I answered that the invoice needed to be paid as to not
interrupt the job and the VP was waiting on the change order so she
could take it to the CFO for approval. He actually said "what if I
don't think that's a good enough reason to rush this through?" I
grabbed the paperwork and said "fine! I'll tell Jamie that she can't
have this paperwork that Christine is waiting on because you don't
think it's a priority." He found someone who did know how to do the
change order. The next order of business was to completely rework an
email survey because my believe it or not, it won't open in any
earlier version of the software that is previous to the one that I'm
using. So I had to find the oldest laptop we have in the department
and re-do a whole days work. The LANda was laughing at me the whole
day. After that I had seven jobs to open up. In a normal day and in a
normal week I would have just blown all of this off and none of it
would have upset me. But today I am really feeling the anxiety over
Thursday's biopsies. I was near tears the whole day. At 5:00 my son
called and told me that he was going to be very late picking me up.
He was showing a lot of emotion too, and I had to talk him down from
there and assure him that I would be fine waiting on him...but now
I've been here 13 hours today and I'm beat. Not only beat, but near
tears. So to make things really sweet, my ex calls and wants to know
if I would like to accompany him and two of our children on a journey
through Alabama, Tennesee and Kentucky this weekend. Like a crazy
woman I agreed...Why, please tell me why I agree to these things.
There has to be some kind of psychotic syndrome for people who would
do these things. It means that I will spend 4 days in very close
proximity to the man who deserted me after 22 years of marriage. I
will be sharing a hotel room with this man, and he's married. Maybe I
should take a picture of us all together and smiling. I could post it
on the web.

Pinch their heads off

After missing a two half days of work last week due to doctor
appointments, I faced what had to be our biggest challenge here in the
communications department since 9/11/01 when the federal government
grounded our full fleet of aircraft (and any other plane flying over
US airspace). Every so often we upgrade our shipping software to make
new products and features available to our customers. A full half of
our department has been working on the new enhancements for 18 months
to insure a positive result. The software was shipped on Monday the
22nd. Then we started getting calls from the help center, they were
getting inundated with calls from customers needing help installing
the software. Calls had been estimated to last from 2 - 20 minutes,
but were actually taking upwards of 2 hours to straighten out the
mess. What was worse was that we were actually crashing the computers
of our customers. We had to act, and act fast, to rectify the mess
that we'd created. With the help of our customer service reps, the
problem was easily identified and we were rushing to produce a
replacement disk. It had taken us 18 months to produce the software,
we had a week to fix the problems with the software. My role in the
recovery was minor, however, it consumed every second I was at work
last week. I don't think I even I had a conversation with anyone that
didn't revolve around the software. It made me want to pinch
someone's head off. How can you release something like this without
beta testing it on older machines? Are we such technology elitist
that we assume that everyone is running formats that are the latest
technology? Do we not consider that someone may well have all that he
needs running Windows 95 and doesn't see the need to upgrade simply
because the upgrade is available? It was exhausting, and during this
I have been trying to digest the conversation that I had with my
oncologist on Wednesday. I have learned from past experience that
more can be learned from what he doesn't say than what he says. The
conversation was intense enough that I wish I had a better memory or a
tape recording of it so I could think more about it.

That made me more than ready to dive into the weekend, especially
knowing that a chance to play with my grandson would be the reward.
Matt, Nina and Clifton arrived in the early morning hours, and we all
went to bed as soon as they got there. We slept late and then took
Clifton to a wonderful playground that is provided to the community by
one of the mega churches in the area. For an 18 month old it is
better than a trip to Six Flags. Clifton walked in clapping his hands
and ran straight to the swings, which proved to be the thing that he
enjoyed most. After several hours of running, climbing, swinging and
playing in the sand we headed to McDonalds for a late lunch. It was
the first time that Clifton has ever been to McDonalds so we were able
to order apple slices instead of fries, which he chowed down on. He
was a bit afraid of the toy that was in the bag. It wasn't something
that any of us had ever seen, but I'm sure it's from one of the kiddie
cartoons that seem to be too popular now. Afterward we all went home
and Clifton took a nap. Lizzie and Matt went to drill practice at the
school and Nina and I had a nice chat. In the evening I made a
lasagna and we all played video games and watched movies. The down
side to the day is that my oldest son decided to hang out with friends
than with his family. Sunday morning the weather had changed from
warm and sunny to icy rain and the mood of the group noticibly
deteriorated. My brother asked us all to lunch, and for such a large
group that's a big deal. The first thing that happened was that
Lizzie decided it was time to complain about the chosen restaurant,
and it was bad enough that I had to pull her aside and explain that
she was being rude. Then Nina took up the action by being sulky and
nasty and trying to pick fights with anyone available. Clifton was
being a dream. He sat in the high chair munching on a roll and
playing cars with his green beans. That was until Nina was
unsucessful in picking an argument with anyone else and turned her
attention to him. She picked and fussed at him until he became cranky
and began to fuss. I'd had enough. After lunch Matt decided that it
was time to take his cranky family back to Ft. Campbell. Ken left to
do some errands and Tim went to meet up with some friends. Lizzie and
I were alone to discuss her behavior, and the impact that it had on
the group. Not that she was responsible for Nina's behavior, but her
attitude precipitated the whole event. Sometimes she seems to be
blind to the affect that her actions have on those around her. Later
I was able to apologise to my brother, and he pretended to be ignorant
of the whole scene. So, my son and his family are back home safe, and
a lovely visit ended on a resoundingly sour note.

Sometimes I just want to pinch their heads off.

On Wednesday I go back to my surgeon for an ultrasound and biopsy of
the lumps they found during our last visit. I can feel the tenseness
in my shoulders. I have a lump in my throat. Maybe the whole thing
incident this weekend is a warning to me to be aware of how my actions
are affecting those around me, and not to take my anxiety out on
others. Hard thing for me to do when I feel like the anxiety level of
a blinking neon sign.

Daffodils in Winter

My carpool buddy was late this morning. I had just about decided to
call him and tease him about playing with his children too long when
the phone rang. He said that he'd be another 10 minutes. Standing at
the door talking to him I saw two finch flitting around the empty bird
feeder. Since I now had a few more minutes I decided to go out and
fill it. Stepping around the corner to reach it, I noticed the yellow
heads of my daffodils. They are already blooming. I love them.
After hard winters they are the welcome trumpeters that spring is
coming...but this year has hardly seen winter and it is way too early
for these premonitions of spring. Still the flowers have cheered me
up. I picked a few and brought them to work with me. Today when
anyone has made me upset, I look at my daffodils and am reminded that
cold and hard times always come to an end.

Oncology

The first sign was missing the shuttle to the train station by
minutes. That was irksome enough and I didn't want to be late for my
appointment, so I took the bus instead. It was clean and nice, I
think that I like it better than the shuttle. When I got to the
Towers there was a woman wandering around in the elevator bay
obviously lost and confused. She asked me how to get to the 11th
floor. I told her to follow me, but she said no, she didn't want to
take me out of my way. I assured her that I was going up there too.
She fussed and chattered all the way up and I was hoping that she was
going up for a CT scan, so she wouldn't be going to the cancer center.
No such luck, she signed in after me, and she and I had the same
doctor. She told me that this was her first visit to the office, so I
knew that she'd just been told that she has cancer. They had the
social worker take her away for a while, so I did get some peace from
her. I did get the tech that can't draw blood. After three sticks he
got one of the infusion nurses to draw the blood. I have three new
bruises, my arm looks like I've been in a fight. Then I had to wait
another hour in the doctors office before I was taken back. The
confused woman had time to catch up with me. She is obviously having
trouble accepting the diagnosis and probably would have been better
bringing someone with her. It didn't surprise me that I had to wait
another hour after being taken back. I'll bet they were having a time
with her. I spent about two minutes with the doctor and most of that
was discussing when I should come back for a visit. For as muck time
as I spend stressing over these appointments you'd think there'd be
more to it. I went to the McDonalds in the hospital for lunch and
then made my way back to the train station. It was very late when I
got back to the office. It was almost tempting just to call it a wash
and take the rest of the day off.

To Onc or not to Onc

Of course it's not much of a question. A few posts ago I was whining about my oncology appointment being postponed for two weeks. Now it's time to go and of course, I'm a basket case. I fear having to go in and talk to him about drugs that I don't want to take, but what I really fear is the time when I will go in and he will have nothing more to offer. So tomorrow I will go in and smile at the gay guy that signs us in and hands out the survey screen. I will hope that I don't get the lab tech that couldn't draw from a fire hose, and be kind to him as he brusies and maims my arm looking for my tiny scarred veins. I will even be civil to the surley office manager, knowing that it is her attitude that keeps everything running on a somewhat even schedule. I will have a conversation with the nurse, then the doctor. We will probably discuss Herceptin, because I know that he already discussed it with my cardiologist. And on Wednesday I will know what my tumor markers are...but it doesn't matter. The test that does matter is the ultrasound and biopsy a week from Wednesday.

I don't want to walk this road. I don't have a choice.

Must be loved by dogs

I yelled at Sammy this morning. He'd woken me up a few times during
the night; once to go out and the others trying to claim my attention
because I'd turned or moved in my sleep. As soon as the alarm clock
went off, he was at my feet; whining and nuzzleing my knee. I knew he
didn't need anything but reassurance. But I was exhausted by his
neediness. He scampered back to his bed and whined and sighed as I
got ready for work. He gets upset when I get sick and last weekend
put him over the edge. He will calm down in a few days as he feels
things are right again in his world. As I was waiting for the carpool
I thought how mean to yell at him for his caring, especially when he
doesn't understand. I felt bad. I will sit on the floor with him
tonight and pet him.

Stomach Virus Hell

I spent Friday surrounded by food. The celebration of our 100th year
had begun at work, and our team had our first group lunch for the
year. It seems all we did was eat very good food. That was fine
until around 9:30 pm when I began to feel a bit queasy. By mid-night
my view was the bottom of the porceline bowl and all the wonderful
food wasn't so pleasant on the second trip. Thank God for oncologist
and pediatricians who think that phenergan should be part of every
well stocked medicine chest. I slept through the weekend, but made it
through without any uncomfortable and lengthy stay in an emergency
room waiting for a shot. By Sunday evening I was beginning to feel
human again and even ventured to eat a few crackers and drink some
gatorade. This morning I had a biscuit and some green tea. I think
that after last week I should consider blocking off my bathroom.

Centennial

Balloon bridges hearlded us as we came into the parking garages this morning. More balloons in the loggias and as we entered the building. Members of the Centennial Team greeted us wearing brown pants and green shirts. We were all given pins in a commemorative box after watching the celebration video. There were tables in the lobby filled with cakes and chocolate and strawberry moose. Other tables held chocolate fountains and fruit. A new mural decorates the lobby. It's our 100th year celebration. The CCO asked "What will we look like a hundred years from now?" It's Friday and it's a party.

Medicinal Week

I went to the doctor on Monday. It was a follow-up appointment, nothing big. She looked at my swollen feet and decided that it was due to my high blood pressure, and put me on a diuretic. It isn't bad. The price is right and the medicine is causing few side effects and my blood pressure is down. But Monday night Lizzie woke up with a stomach virus, and when she couldn't keep anything down in the morning I took her to the doctor. She had to see one of her doctors associates, and I haven't been pleased with this doctor in the past. She overlooks a lot of things. She had the nurse give Lizzie a shot for her nausea, which really was why we went. But shortly after getting the shot Lizzie fainted. Kids faint when they get shots, especially for some reason, teenaged girls. But with LQTS in the family fainting has to be taken seriously. The doctor blew it off until I reminded her about the Large type note on the front of the chart. I stayed home with Lizzie the rest of Tuesday and yesterday. She didn't faint any more, and wanted to go to school today. She's not 100%, but close enough. So, it's Thursday and the week is almost over; time for the weekend again.

Unbelievable!

My son brought some ribs from Harry's Farmers Market. Add some cole
slaw, baked beans and yams to that and we had our third feast in as
many weeks. As the meal was winding down and we were all laughing at
the dog and the bones, my ex called. He talked to the kids for a
while, then asked to speak to me. He told me that I was a lucky
woman. Unblievable! Luck had nothing to do with it. He left me with
two angry teen boys and a crushed little girl to raise. Luck didn't
rebuild our family. It was the grace of God and me standing in the
gap. If he'd wanted to be lucky he should have stood there too.

Weekend again

The thing about this time of year is that I get too used to having long weekends and then when I get a regular two day weekend, it doesn't seem that I have enough time. That's what I'm facing this weekend. My brother wants to go visit my other brother's grave site. I'm not real big on paying visits to dead relatives, there are too many live ones that I ignore on a regular basis. But after eight years there is finally a marker (the VA was supposed to have taken care of this). So this will probably take up all day tomorrow. Then I will be playing catch-up all week for the chores that don't get done.

I think that I annoy my family with my attitude about this. It's a big deal with most of them to keep grave sites presentable and to have fresh flowers always there. I've told my kids to scatter my ashes in Key Largo and have a nice vacation while they are there. Then go home and don't look back. I don't want there to be a place where my aunts can attempt to make my children feel beholden to. The thing is that I can't see what they are all getting out of this. It's not like my parents or my brother is ever going to smile at them again and say "Thanks for the flowers." I think that we might be much healthier as a family if we paid each other the respect while we are still alive and not worry so much about the dead.

This is morbid...I'll go now.

I swear to you Miss Scarlett, I don't know nothing about cooking collards

It was kind of comical actually. My brother wanted the traditional southern New Year meal. I like to cook food that people actually want to eat, so I was willing to oblige, at least until I saw the amount of collards that I'd have to buy. One bunch ($2) was enough to feed a tribe. For $2, oh well, I'd cook what I needed and toss the rest. The biggest obstacle was that I'd spent my entire youth in a battle with my father to never eat the things, so believe me while they were being cooked I was no where to be found. I may be the only GRITS on the planet that doesn't know how to cook collards. I can cook a corn bread and fry a chicken with the best of them, but green slime has never been on my menu. I have about a million cookbooks and some of them claim to be for southern cooking. But not one gave me a clue how to cook these things. So I just washed them, put them in a pot with a couple pieces of bacon (my father would have said salt back) and boiled them until the were almost slime. I still can't stand slimey food. They were pretty good if you like that kind of thing; my brother liked them. The black eyed peas and the corn bread were very good. But now I still have a mass of greens in my fridge waiting to be cooked and I can't stand the idea of doing it again.