Cancer. Fuck.

Today I got all of my results and the beginnings of a plan. Stage 1 or 2 adenocarcinoma confirmed. No definitive evidence of spreading or lymph node invasion, although I suppose MRI needed to confirm that. I have to have radiation first, have to make an appointment for MRI, appointment with oncologist, appointment with radiologist. Tests and appointments and tests and appointments.

I have cancer, for real. Jesus christ.

I'm nervous about MRI because you have to lay still for 30-60 minutes. That's a lot. I asked the doctor for Ativan. That should help. I remember taking it when I went in for laparoscopy for cyst and fibroid and feeling very happy. So I'll get through that.

Radiation doesn't sound that bad. I guess that goes on for a while and then we see if this damn monster shrinks. We want it to shrink and shrink and shrink. The more it shrinks he easier everything else is. So that is the goal.

Then we probably have more tests to see how that all went, and then surgery. Surgery involves removing the whole bit of the rectum where this thing is and rebuilding it. It also involves an Ileostomy. That's a goddamn bag. Just wow. Then possibly chemo. If there is chemo, I have to have the bag through the whole chemo, because of the side effects. Which apparently don't involve hair loss. I'm sure there are some other horrific side effects.

There is some hope that the radiation will just shrink it so much that some of this stuff may not be necessary? I don't know.

Right now all I can do is one day at a time. Live for the day, enjoy the day. Act as normal as possible for the littles, and for myself too. Try to be strong, healthy. DO be strong and healthy. I can do this, I know. The outpouring of support and love is amazing. I will take all of it. I WILL be strong. I WILL get through this and be ok and thank my lucky stars that it isn't worse and I can be around for my babies. It's going to be a YEAR of treatment and process. That seems overwhelming, incredible. But by my next birthday I will be healthy.

BY MY NEXT BIRTHDAY I WILL BE HEALTHY.

Once Upon a Time in Lala Land

Do you ever think, you worry about the stupidest shit? Years of anxiety over dates, parties, work, nonsense. Too much thinking about what-ifs and what-thens.

Real worry didn't start until I had kids but ironically I've been able to power through most of it. Is that headache just a headache? Does he cry too much? Will he learn to ride a bike? Will he be tough? Will they be ok?

Several months ago, I started having bleeding when I went to the bathroom. Looking back at that sentence I want to poke myself in the eye over how long it took to get to the doctor. I still ended up where I am now; it could have been quicker and maybe easier. But this is not the time to beat myself up. I can only say that I hope I can carry the lesson from that procrastination on to other experiences. You can't run away from things. They will catch you with their gnarly little hands. The fear monster only grows if you let it feed and fester.

Fast forward to last Friday, finally at the doctor. Side note, I guess people really did not like the word PROCTOLOGIST because they are called Colo-Rectal Surgeons now. The title change did not make me feel better. When my doctor referred me to the COLO-RECTAL SURGEON my stomach dropped right then and there. I was praying for hemorrhoids to be causing the bleeding and discomfort- imagine praying for hemorrhoids. The exam entails kneeling on a special exam table and laying with your stomach on the table if you can picture it. Sort of like laying down while kneeling on that pew thing in catholic church. "Pull down your pants and kneel here". Then they tilt the table forward so your butt is in the air. Fun times. There is then a brief period of poking prodding shoving a tube in and further prodding that probably took a minute or two but felt like oh so much longer and damn it HURT. Now I know why it hurt, so it's probably not so typical that it's that bad. Once that is done, off to the office to talk. Cut to the chase--- hemorrhoids are not my problem. He felt a mass in my rectum. There were a lot of words and instructions to follow, which culminated in scheduling a colonoscopy on Monday and a CT scan on Thursday "if needed". I walked out holding a colonoscopy kit and referrals and instructions and just flat out in SHOCK that this was happening because it was exactly my worst fear. Why? Because deep down I knew what this was.

Let's discuss colonoscopy for a moment. I was DEATHLY afraid of it. I mean so scared. That's probably the main reason I put off going to the doctor for so long. I thought all roads would lead to colonoscopy and I didn't want it, no ma'am. Well I'm here to tell you that was just stupid. The worst part of the whole thing, other than just anticipation and just not knowing what to expect, was the drink. It was very hard for me to get down because I can't stand artificial sweetener and it's just a 16oz giant mess of sickly sweet. But hey, really--- in the whole scheme of things? Meh. The actual pooping was really nothing. Just watery stuff coming out, no pain, little muss or fuss. Off to the actual procedure. They put in an IV, you go to sleep, you wake up. I had the best anesthesiologist in the whole world and felt like a million bucks when I woke up. I have had minor procedures before and have woken up groggy and nauseous every time, but not this time. Versed and Propofol- magic. Out comes the doctor with nasty pictures of what has been growing at the top of my rectum. Angry red blobs, "friable", "ulcerated". I swear I can't remember if he used the word CANCER but I think he did, and my mother seems to remember it too although both of our attention turned to the fact that she was about to faint. CANCER is not written on the report. He has 30 plus years of experience with this sort of thing, so I believe he knows what he sees, even though biopsy results were just taken during that procedure. A friend said today that "he is not God and only the biopsy results will tell." Anyway, the moral to this story is, there is no reason at all to avoid having a colonoscopy. You will survive the drink and the rest really is pretty easy considering. Also there are pills you can take instead of the drink (I am not a candidate for those due to another medication).

Next on the agenda, today I had CT scan scheduled. Clearly "if needed" came back as "hell yes needed.". Again I tried not to think too much about it until it was time to do it, but I worried myself over IV contrasts and drinking a ton of more yucky oral contrast and blah blah. The oral contrast made me feel a little off but tasted like water (a great BIG cup of it, more than 16 oz). The IV was pretty ok. I felt kind of tingly and heavy after. Maybe shouldn't have driven home in retrospect. The CT itself took all of 5 minutes from laying down to standing up. The people were very nice too.

So here I am. One exam (gross and ouchy), two tests (not remotely as bad as expected) later. Now I wait for it all to culminate in my doctor's appointment on Monday. Charlie will go with me and we will hear the results of everything and what the next steps are. In the meantime, it's nice outside, and I'm able to work from home, and it's my birthday in two days. I don't have to hear any news about anything for just under four days. I am trying to be open about this, tell people what's going on if they ask me how I'm doing, stay positive, stay present. This is really fucked up, no lie. But I really have no choice what with two little kids looking at me all the time, to power through all of it and get to the end.

There was a calling to me to write about this and share it. I don't know with who all yet but here it is and it's out of me and it feels good. The plan is that this thing will get out of me as well, and I will go on with my life and take care of my babies. That's all. May the universe protect me and guide me, and all of you too.

Nap and Potty Fail

Still no success with the crib. I think we hit a low point on the last attempt. We let him cry for 2.5 hours this past weekend. One of us stayed in the room the whole time, talking to him, patting him. Nothing worked. At this point I have thrown up my hands and called a professional sleep consultant. I KNOW in theory what I am supposed to do and in fact did it quite well with #1 son, who to this day is a great sleeper and loves his crib. The professional will analyze what we have been doing and together we will come up with a plan and we will stick to it. I just need someone who knows what the hell they are doing to tell me what I am putting in place is ok. It will definitely be challenging for everyone at first because I am so lazy about just letting him sleep on me whenever wherever. But I'm not willing to sit around and do nothing while I am home with him. There are a million projects, improvements, plans that I have. I also want quality time with the big boy alone while the little one takes his morning nap. Right now I am stuck inside while he plays outside with daddy. So this is all for the best. Boy, it's hard to be a parent! The other big project over winter break was supposed to be teaching big boy to use the potty. He will go to the bathroom once a day on most days at school. At home he wants NOTHING TO DO WITH IT. Physically he is ready but emotionally, he is not ready. Period, end of story. We have tried candy, toys, stickers, cookies, showing him how we pee, everything you are supposed to do and think of. Yesterday he happened to be naked after bath and seemed like he needed to pee so we put him on the toilet and he was just. so. miserable. Not crying like a tantrum but really crying in misery. So that's it. He may be almost 3, but he's not ready, and I'm not willing to hide his diapers and force him to use the toilet or potty at this point. I will keep asking and encouraging but he is going to have to be ok with trying. It's hard to walk the line between what is good for them and what is going to traumatize them! Goodness!

Now that I have officially* become a SAHM, my first real challenge, ironically enough, is to sleep/ crib train this baby. He is almost 8.5 months old. Previous attempts have been hit or miss or not accomplished by me. The nanny he was with for two months let him cry it out, the babysitter he had for a few weeks started training him to sleep in his own bed but she didn't watch him daily. My attempts worked once or twice but I always seem to find an excuse not to do it or I gave up if he cried a lot. At this point, with two week vacation for S. having begun, we have really come to the point where it's either cry, or all of us suffer. I can't be alone with the both of them and have one be asleep in my arms for hours. The truth is, listening to him cry is very painful for me, when I know that I can easily relieve it, but as evidenced by the fact that after crying for 23 minutes, he has been peacefully asleep in his own bed for almost two hours, it's best for all of us. My goal right now is one nap per day in the crib, and I will continue to extend it until he is sleeping in there all the time. Night time will be hardest of course, but I am not going to think about that. When I have him napping easily in there, at the very least I will have more confidence going into night time. *I say officially SAHM because until last week I was still trying to find a full time job. At this point we have decided to liquidate some assets so that I can stay at home until L. is two. I never wanted to be a SAHM before, but I have eased into it at this point and know that I can do it. I was with him from April 11- July 31 and lost my job October 4th, so he has been with me most of the time already. I am hoping to consult when I can, but I will be his primary care giver until he goes to school. I will get all of his firsts, rather than a nanny. I will be able to minimize the time my big boy spends at school- only regular day, six hours per day instead of 8-10. I am not pulling him out of Montessori because he is learning and thriving. I know enough to admit that he will learn infinitely more and benefit tremendously from continuing as he is now. As it is I will have to force my lazy ass to make something out of the day... I will take walks, and read to the boy, and try to teach him things. I will take on household projects, make lovely home cooked meals, finish the scrap books. Naps is that crib will be put to good use! It's a whole new day around here, on many levels!

No more sleeping on mommy all the time!

I haven't posted since October of 2011. My how time flies. We're on December 2012 and there is a whole new 8 month old person in this house with us. I'd like to keep up with this blog a bit more, especially since I am now basically a SAHM. I'm still figuring out what I want to do with this, but for today I am moved to put pen to paper, so to speak, because of the tragedy that occurred in CT last Friday. A lunatic walked into an elementary school and killed 20 kids aged 6 and 7 and six of their educators. This act is so unspeakable, the consequences so very heartbreaking. I don't know who in this country (or anywhere in the world where they have seen what happened) could be unaffected. Those of us who have small children are suffering in some VERY SMALL measure right along with Newton CT and all of the people who were directly affected by this tragedy. We feel you out there. We really do. The sadness is crushing. I look at my little boy sitting here next to me shoving broccoli in his mouth and trying to hide the "chicken" (really a pork chop) on his plate, and my love for him fills my heart, the room, the house, the universe. These little lives, these little treasures so full of potential and promise and dreams. They are what life is all about, and to have 20 of these lights snuffed out is just beyond tragic. I hope the families can take some comfort, even a breath of comfort, from all of us who are crying along with them.

And the Beat Goes On.

Turns out eating at the tables isn't much of a problem. He took to it with no real issue. Sometimes he'll sit in his booster, sometimes he wants to sit in your lap or on his knees on a chair, but ultimately he has taken his meals and snacks there, even on the weekend. Now the focus is really turning to discipline. He likes to play in the dog bowl. This is a real problem because the dogs need access to their water and the water is around the corner from the living room through the kitchen, so we have to constantly jump up and run in there to see what he is doing. I don't want to make the house a warren of gates, I want him to learn to listen. As it is, with another baby on the way and money super tight, I just had to purchase a fireplace gate for almost two hundred bucks. We have a wood stove and it's getting cold now and having that kid burned in the process of learning that the wood stove is an owie is NOT something I am ready or willing to deal with, despite my husband's opinion of "I hope he doesn't get burned too badly before he learns". Um, NO. In the winter we have that stove burning all day some days and with two giant dogs running around, it's just not something I want to even begin to deal with. So the stupid dog water and his habit of spitting water- these are the two things that are the major pain in the ass right now. Seems like once you solve one problem, another appears, but hey, that's parenthood and the hardest job in the world (and the best!!).

Rolling Hills

The kid has adjusted exceptionally well to the concept of eating everything at the table. We really haven't had any problems with dinner time this whole week. Of course the weekend is coming and that is the real test. Life with a kid is all rolling hills. Bad hours, good hours, bad days, good days, longer stretches of both. Luckily some of those good hours, days, stretches are full of such amazing, beautiful things that it just takes me breath away at times. Just to have him quietly read a book in my lap while I smell his magical head. When bad times come I remember to be thankful that he is a smart, healthy boy, and well, those pass too.