I am not looking around at anyone here to lay the blame. I know who the culprit is and sometimes she is typing this with tears spilling over and down her face. Well, you can just imagine what does to eye make up? I have moments where my mind leaves the source of this subject, I look at the flowers the husband planted in the front beside the walkway. He planted Marigolds because he knows I like yellow in a flower bed. He hates Marigolds and for the life of me I never could understand this. He says they stink.
I said no "poop stinks, sour mops stink, curdled milk stinks."
He planted them for me to come home to, He was going to accept the odor because they were for me. My husband is not a very demonstrative person. He shows his feelings in little ways. The refrigerator he stocked with puddings and tapioca's, jello and juices, mints on the coffee table in small bowls and offering to wait on my needs.
I came home to a house that was cleaned from room to room so I wouldn't have to do anything. He fixed a tray of food at dinner but offered drinks and soft foods along with it. He is protective right now which sets me off into another tearing. He and Louise have much the same tenderness about me and I'm so grateful they are there.
Louise is a yard junkie; totally addicted to flowers. You can find her at the flower stands around town on her days off. She cruises them with her sisters.
Louise was one of the first RN"s I worked with after getting out of school. She has the softest soul and you can almost see it hovering around her. She appears in my life when my soul is hurting and hangs for as long as needed. She isn't big on religion; she let it slip the other day her political affiliations, she is big on worship but I think she does that on bended knee in her flower beds all alone. If there was ever a person that could have been a nun it would have been Louise. That's just my opinion. Louise is a drummer and will do little things around town with her son and sisters
I want to know that all we are doing is "fixing" this. The husband is happy with each thing getting done. He wants the time for the breast chemo to hurry up and get here..he wants the breast surgery to hurry up and get here and radiation to hurry up and get here. They promised they would fix me. He hangs on to that and I try to let him. April is hanging on to that. She needs that too. I have a totally different opinion. I keep it to myself. They need to be happy and not think about this. The husband has a job to return to, and April is busy with her family.
I know people that are getting along fine after doing all these procedures. Those are the people that caught it before it hit a lymph node. I've been pushing the doctors a bit and yesterday I pushed again. We discussed microscopic that could have moved to the liver from the colon and cannot be detected on a PET The non medical person would never ask this of a doctor. See what I mean? The patient doesn't need to know this and most of aren't told because it MIGHT not happen. But if in a few years the liver lights up on a scan they then explain about the microscopic cells migrating. The thing is, they had ALREADY migrated when the colon surgerywas being done. Get it? Why tell the patient until they need to know.And being the pessimist that I am, I always prepare for the worst and enjoy hugely if it doesn't get worse.
With the repairs previously, usually of my own making, it was just a matter of surgery, it was repaired and I could walk again.
This time I feel as though I'm infected and it's not fixable. I hate the saying "cancer survivor. We are all survivors of something on a daily basis and that phrase just angers me. Those survivors caught it before lymph node involvement.
This is a not a post for anyone expecting a pretty smelling rose. It's more a post akin to a Marigold. It's link won't be posted on Face book so it won't be easily found by those that get to it through Face book and it was meant to be that way. The ones finding it will have known about my blogging through the years.
I won't be posting blogs like this on Face book. I wanted to write how I really feel...and I don't want to tell you I don't have these days and that I'm such a strong person. I'm scared. I have self pity times and depression too.
I' going to clean up the rag top and go try on wigs. It really is no big deal about the hair thing. I have always wanted to shave my head when I was younger. I think I'll get one of those multicolored Mohawks and ask my granddaughters and grandson to meet me at some uptight restaurant around here and not tell them. Some nose rings...yeah..I'm gonna work on this image for a while.
I'll post some pictures...watch me. Maybe I can get Louise to go?