Pages

Saturday, April 15, 2017

It Was Just a "hunter/gather Kind of Day

A Sale! Don't we all love a sale? I have a huge freezer that will attest to my love of a sale. I'm not the typical female shopper that drools over a huge price cut for new underwear or a pair of pants.
I'm a 'hunter/gatherer'. You won't find me slaying animals and dragging the carcass home to perform magic with a knife and freezer wrap. You won't find me hunched down at the vegetable patch pulling weeds and salivating over the green bean and cucumber plants awaiting the produce they will produce. (I know, I know...produce used twice...It's my blog and I deny any English major to suggestion corrections).

Every Tuesday the grocery sale papers arrive promptly (usually ANY time of the day) but at least it's usually Tuesday anyway. We hike the 50 ft. to the mailbox to rescue the sales flyers and walk with a lighter quicker step back to our kitchen tables to 'hunt'. Products are circled, separated later into lists that appear on line paper and to each designated store. Preparation is key. Any coupon on hand corresponding to a sale item is catalogued into the list of supplies.

Next a route is formulated related to which store first and this is usually determined by what is on sale at that store. Imagine buying ice cream and then traveling from sale store to sale store. Imagine what the ice cream would be like by the time this hunter/gatherer trip made it's full circle back to the lair where the spoils of the trip would be hefted out of the collection vehicle (a car with a huge trunk in this case.) Ice Cream bought early on this trip will require a quick return to the cave to dump it into that huge freezer storage so Ice Cream gathering has to be last on the list of stores to visit.

All the preparations are done and it's time to contact Portia. Portia (pronounced the same as the car Porsche) is a friend that lives close by and is a better hunter/gatherer then I. She loves the hunt and her unskilled mathematical brain suddenly turns into a calculator that can divide at lightning speed which makes for a desirable talent when calculating the tricky pricing of some of these grocery stores and their marketing department. One learns quickly and watches and learns to divide total price by individual item.

Portia is a petite bundle of energy and usually needs no long notification to go anywhere. In 15 minutes I was at her house and we were, with our lists clutched in our hands, ready for assault we had carefully planned. (I've always thought women should run this country. We know all about preparation and planning and the necessity for such.)

After all this preparation, it comes down to the check out. Yes, this story isn't about hamburger, eggs, bread and milk. It was the checkout line that was most memorable.

Portia was standing in front of me with her loot on the grocery belt, I was standing behind or but in front of a women that I struck up a conversation with. A Canadian that was her on a teaching contract. She was a short woman and as I am a tall woman I could easily peruse the surroundings with nothing blocking my view. Over the head of this petite educator, my eyes locked on the person behind the Canadian. I hesitated, my eyes locked on her and then quickly returned my attention to the Canadian that was still talking to me. I wanted to keep eye contact with her but my attention kept dragging back to the person standing behind her, a female that was most unusual in appearance. My mind whirled wondering if there was some school event going on and this person was dressed to attend. Maybe Halloween was being held in March? Some sort of unusual spring thing? Maybe she was hired to do a birthday party?  I swung around and away from the Canadian to Portia standing in front of me and did one of those "jerk of the head around and eyebrows raised' which alerted her to look behind me. I watched the expression on Portia's face, her mouth get slack and her eyes widen as she scanned the row behind her, behind me and behind the Canadian.

I stole another look at this female behind be, gazing over the head of the petite Canadian into the red over arched eyebrows of a pair of eyes that had huge blackened circles around them. Tears tattooed one after another raced over her cheeks and down to the jaw line. A web was tattooed across the eyes and over the bridge of her nose. More tattoos  decorated her neck.  Her hair was an expression of freedom. I dragged my eyes away and back and away once again.

We are shopping in an upscale neighborhood.  This is not New Orleans. In New Orleans she would not have rated a second glance unless it was tourists from some small town that isn't used to see these freedom folks.

Another quick glance allowed a look at her dress. An oversized light blue denim shirt hung much to large on her body and buttoned irregularly over a pair of leggings and her feet sported a pair of men's white plastic sandals with one huge strap that wrapped over her toes. She rolled her cart to a red two door sporty looking car and loaded her soda's and pastries. Yes, the detective in me casually observed her bought items as I tried to arrange in my brain some sort of  acceptance to what we had witnessed. I wonder also if she is used to people studiously trying to avoid staring at her. She must know what her appearance does to the unsuspecting public.
My conversation with Portia on our mission to the next store was not about the sales list but about the 'teardrop lady' and who she might be and where she might live and what she might do for a living.
 might be time for me to make a trip to New Orleans. New Orleans prepares one for odd sites and since I haven't been there for a couple of years now, my senses might have become dulled to the quirkiness that surrounds us.





Tuesday, April 11, 2017

Back to School

We are back in school. The Christmas break has ended and Carrie has headed back to her educational journey.

This morning we woke to a definite chill in the air. We are going to enjoy a cool down for the next week. I'm not looking forward to summer any time soon. Heat is not my friend.

I'm listening to the morning news on CBS. I quickly jotted down the following changes:

Crispr gene Editing. A technology that changes the DNA gene to correct sickle cell inutero or to change the T Cell that causes AIDS. There will be new monitoring systems for diabetes. Drugs are predicted to change in treatment of different illness.

I will be doing some research on this information later today. Are we opening Pandora's box with interfering with DNA? Will parents request gene alteration to specifiy eye color, hair color or skin color?

The phone just rang and interrupted my train of thought on this. Pat called to let me know she had taken her medicines and she and son were heading to the church to collect food from their pantry.


Sunday, March 5, 2017

What "They" Don't Tell You Until the Next Time

The mamo was done,  The results come back and the phone rings. "Can you follow up on a diagnostic mammo? The date is set. The results come back and a biospy is done.

Your General Practioner calls you in and every thing is downhill from there. When he mentions the results and then you hear the words "oncologist" the ride starts here lady.

Tests were quickly scheduled for a CT and a PET scan. The appointments were within days of each other and a surgeon wall called into place a Mediport. Sitting in the surgeon's office for our first visit he looked over the PET scan and saw a "thickening" and wanted know if I had has the colonscopy done. Negative on that. He stepped out his office and called Dr. Noel.
That appointment was quickly scheduled. "Day after tomorrow..NPO tomorrow and off for the test the next morning and again back to LGMC.

The first visit with the oncologist I was in tears. Tears that couldn't be stopped. She looked at me and
said "We can fix this. We all cried and we  believed her. The surgeon that gave us the news about the colon cancer said "we can fix this". Again we were are relieved.

I don't believe them. It's not that they are really lying to you. They give you as much as you can handle at the time.

I hate the words "Cancer survivor". It's like being called an American Hero because  you died  in me Middle East. That doesn't make you a hero....it just makes you dead and is supposed to make your family feel better. "A cancer survivor means you haven't died from it YET but you will.

My family doesn't understand and i surly can't tell them how I feel about this. They are so  happy to believe that I can be fixed. I'm angry, I'm scared and I look at them and know what I know.

Let them at least laugh and play and watch  their children grow. My husband continue to enjoy his  job and whatever we can do together for as long as we can.

I wanted to write this but I can't publish it until a later date. I don't want them to see this. I want them to be happy and  enjoy what time we have together.

I pushed the surgeon today. Pushed for information on the surgery in the colon. Finally  he conceded

It didn't metz to the liver; the first place it would go..The PET showed it was clear however micros-pic  could be there.  Ah...you see, I didn't have to know this...it would be a while before it came back and my that time I might have lived a few more  years. I feel the same way about the breast cancer. She said she could fix me and I would not die from this..BUT she also knows it might be some other body part that get is and is the cause.

This will be kept in draft form on this blog site. It won't be published although it was supposed to be a blog  about how I felt through this whole thing. I can't publish this now.


4 Years Ago

Friday:

I have no idea why I decided to go from my dark brunette hair to having it heavily highlighted. I think it might have had something to do with the grey hair creeping in around my face. Figuring if I had it blond, it wouldn't be such a striking contrast when it came time to color my hair. 

 If I walked by a mirror and happened to notice my reflection, I would be uncomfortable. For the people that had never known me with dark hair, they thought I looked perfectly normal as a blond; for family and friends...most (especially family) hated it. A year passed and I finally got tired of thinking about it so I changed it back but not before I had my driver's license renewed. For the past 4 years I have carried a driver's license that sported a picture of that blond head. Since then I've put it back to its original color then finally got it cut short and  let it all grow out to a silver mix. Again I was undecided on this color. I finally decided that if I had to question it, it must be time to break out the Lady Clairol and get back to what I was born with.
Today I renewed my driver's license. The lightening has changed at ye ole Dept. of Transportation. I have a license picture that doesn't look as though I should be wearing prison stripes and be holding a card with digits on it.
Today has been a fruitful day.
Fat Tuesday  is just around the corner. Nanny Belinda (Carrie's aunt) throws a big party in Grand Mary (little village) where everyone goes to catch beads from the local parade then they gather at Belinda's to eat the huge pot of chili, drink some cold beers and eat some King Cake. The Cajun music will flow and soon the couples will be dancing into the night beneath the canopy. Eventually everyone ends up at the local pub where everyone knows each other and the party continues. It's some serious partying as the Tuesday gets closer and closer which means the partying here will have to be put on hold for a while. Lassiere Le Bon Temps Roule...(There could be a misspelled word in there somewhere) .. but translated "Let the Good Times Roll".
It's hard to believe that a blizzard is attacking the East Coast. My Aunt in R.I. is now in the middle of it and anticipating the loss of electricity. It has been named Nemo; when did storms start getting named anyway? 

I spoke with her for a while; she is nervous and frightened as her son is out working in it and has been for over 20 hrs. He is not expected home tonight either. Keeping the snow at bay, his crew is working at a mall to keep the sidewalks cleared..not that anyone will be shopping there tomorrow but if they let those sidewalks collect two feet of snow, it will be more difficult to remove then if they do it as it falls.

Saturday:

I'm going to start a room by room clean up around here. House guests are on their way next month which will inspire me to do some pitching and tidying up the guest rooms.