Baby baby baby

There's no doubt that the brand new little niece has been a huge blessing in our family. Aside from the fact that she is the most adorable thing I've laid eyes on, she provides so much positive for us to dwell on. Our little 7 lb slugger is pushing back a lot of the worries and fears. Not to mention being a grandma is my mom's newest favorite pastime. (Screw you, cancer.)

It's surprising to me how long I can hold her, or sit there and stare at her even when she's sleeping. I'm amazed by her. (I also take great pride in the fact that I'm usually able to get her to stop crying! Although, I have yet to change a diaper solo.) She makes me laugh hysterically. I don't know how long it takes for babies to develop to the point where they recognize faces or voices or anything. But I talk to her, and sometimes she looks at me.

She also smiles for me. Most awesome thing ever. (Okay, it's probably gas, but let uncle have this little thing.)

I can't wait till we laugh together...

Last cancer post of the year

My mom's scans and tests are next week. Friday I do believe. Results should be in by Tuesday when she goes in for chemo.

I will admit when I stop to think about it I feel sort of nauseous [so I'm not really stopping to think about it too much]. This should determine if the cancer is "gone," when she can stop chemo, etc.

The side-effects are getting worse. While the hair on top of her head has started growing back, her taste is shot to shit again. Since the chemo attacks fast-growing cells like hair, nail and tastebud cells, these things are usually effected the worst. That's why people lose their hair. And their appetites. And lose their finger nails.

She hasn't lost her nails yet, but it's not looking good...

So 2010, let's get this straight now. ENOUGH with the cancer already.

Prayers and crossed fingers would be appreciated.

The whirlwind

Christmas has always been one of my favorite times of the year. I'm not really sure what it is--the atmosphere, the snap of the cold air that I don't totally mind just yet, the food--but it's always been pretty cool. Even in college, I spent time filling stockings for friends, playing Christmas music and having an awesome few days before flying home (where I'd usually have an awesome 3 weeks of hanging out not really doing anything, eating home-cooked meals and seeing family).

This year seemed to be extra-packed with craziness. My niece came 5 weeks early in the beginning of the week. I think we're all still in shock. Christmas Eve was full of Santa riding past the house on the firetruck (normal), the mother and [beastly] daughter next door having a fistfight with the grandmother trying to break them up (yay trashy neighbors!), Rocket (ha, I didn't make up that nickname, but he's a cool guy) completely trashed, singing and hanging all over everyone outside when we went out to stop the fight, and two white horses riding down the street pulling a sleigh with carolers (not normal).

Our cousins from SC came up, and we were lucky enough to spend 2 days with them. Always great times and the best laughs.

Tomorrow, I think I'll get to see baby for the 1st time!!!

And there's that pesky OBNJ poster that I'm supposed to finish, not to mention the freelance gig that isn't getting done.

Plus New Year! I'm happy I got a few different invites this year. Not really sure which to accept, and just realized now that I only have about 36 hours to figure it out (Yay decisions!).

I'm thinking of sticking around for baby's first New Year, though aside from sleeping and pooping I don't think she'll be doing anything much.

I don't have to go back to the big house till the 4th and I'm already dreading it! It's going to fast, and dare I say it, I'm having too much fun...

ZZzzzzZZzzZZzzzz....

I love when Maggie snores.

...And done

This weekend was pretty exhausting. I am so glad we were able to be part of these fundraisers though. Vermont, as always, is beautiful. Can never really get used to how many stars there are in the night sky. Or how amazing it is to see the color in the mountains during the fall. Not to mention how absolutely great it is to be with friends you never get a chance to see.

The Search For A Cure event was a lot of fun. Though the "Outsiders" team wasn't from VT, and 2/3 of it had never been there before, we came in a respectable 5th (or was it 6th?) place and actually won the most creative award! After all, just because the David statue we used for our "Take a picture with a famous person" category wasn't the original [and not technically a living, breathing person], I'd argue to say he was the most famous person in anyone's picture. [I can bet we wouldn't have known any of the other team's famous people... Haha].

I think we should have gotten extra points for making our judge laugh the hardest too. Just saying. Next year we're going to mop up.

It's unfortunate that all these fundraisers were the same weekend. It would have been nice to spend a bit more time up there and hang out with those elusive mountain people who again, I don't ever see anymore. But the JDRF walk is important too, and while the freezing rain was not nearly as fun as the possibly-illegal and random U-turns on small town Main Street, they raked it in this morning.

One thing I think I will always appreciate is seeing how strong people feel about a cause by how they react to the misfortune. I'm not saying JDRF didn't have a bigger turnout had today been beautiful. But the people who did show up got involved and walked and most looked to be having a good time. The rain did not deter them, and I bet it even strengthened their resolve. Go human spirit and the urge to overcome in the face of a crappy hand.

So now the whirlwind of the weekend is over. Kinda sucks, but all in all, a great one.

Tomorrow.

Tomorrow my mom finds out if the cancer came back. Or if it spread somewhere else.

But I guess I should backpedal a little bit. A couple weeks ago, she had a check-up and they found that her tumor count (tumor markers?) was too high. While this in and of itself does not mean anything horrible, it isn't a terribly good sign. In fact, it could all be messed up because she recently got over a non-pig related flu. However, it was strongly recommended that she follow up with a PET scan and a bone scan and all that. One was last Friday, the other this past Monday.

[Let me segue for just a moment about insurance companies. They fucking suck. The vindictive part of me hopes that those incompetent assholes get screwed when they need something important. The "I'm trying to be a better person" part of me pities them for being so useless, because that's all that part is capable of doing at the moment.]

Now, I haven't talked about this to anyone. I have found it's been on the tip of my tongue and I just haven't been able to vocalize the words. I think part of the situation has been the uncertainty of it all. Why say anything if it's all going to turn out okay?

But I dunno. I'm sort of scared. That Thanksgiving when she found the lump, I knew it was cancer. You know when you get that feeling--when you are just certain of something? In the olden days, when you just knew you bombed that test [>ahem< style="font-style: italic;">knew you'd wind something [rock on $25 Ski Barn gift card]. Sometimes you just know, and it's going to be good. Sometimes you just know and it's going to be bad.

I have been doing pretty good trying to avoid thinking about it. Yet, every so often I get this sinking feeling, and all that heartache and worry flashes back. And then sometimes I get that almost embarrassed feeling for even thinking it, because I know it will be okay.

And I just totally wrote about how I am sort of getting bummed out [I'm going to refrain from using the "D" word]. Concern and questioning over family and friendships and love. It really went on and on. But don't worry, I deleted it.

Here's to tomorrow.

$1,868.92!!

That's how much money my team has to raise to make $10,000.00 for this year's Relay For Life.

I have made it my personal mission to see this happen. Of course, I have no idea whatsoever on how to make it happen. But here's my thing.

First off, if we raise $10,000.00 we become a flagship sponsor for next year's event. So long as we follow a couple rules (like sign-up before March 1, 2010), our name and logo will be on next year's shirt. For the entire region. (I designed our logo. =))

Secondly, what better way to publicize the library and show our community and the surrounding ones that we aren't just some place for free movies for seniors to complain about and a building where middle-school hoodlums can come to get arrested by cops after school (more on that another day). This wouldn't be our consortium. This wouldn't even be our city, per se. This is US. And we (will have) kicked ass.

This, in turn, would make it more fun to stick it to our anti-library mayor and library board. (How is a library board "anti-library", you ask? Good question! Maybe because the mayor has to appoint the board. You know, said mayor who doesn't like us.)

Plus, I don't know how much longer I can do this. Have so much responsibility with all of this. I don't want to be at my job forever, and when I leave, what happens to the team? This is our best chance. And to be the TOP fundraiser in our BEST year. There's a certain amount of pride in that. Okay, that's a little selfish...

Maybe it just boils down to validation. A desire to be part of a bigger picture, to take part in a stride for change. To fight back against a disease that has threatened my family and friends. To strike out at the illness that has stolen them.

I want to make a difference. So I'm going to.

The Ides...

You haven't appreciated the simple things until you've witnessed the pure bliss on a dog's face while she devours a peanut-butter frosty paws. (The whole thing this time... a birthday treat!) How on earth she bends her nose like that I'll never know.

Here's to my magpie.

"We are alone, absolutely alone on this chance planet: and, amid all the forms of life that surround us, not one, excepting the dog, has made an alliance with us."

–Maurice Maeterlinck

Cancer and a year

It's been over a year since my mom was diagnosed with breast cancer. And about a year ago right now she was in the midst of her chemo sessions. I will never forget those 12 weeks for how nerve-wracking they were. It's hard to look back on it even now actually.

March 5, 2008 was a Wednesday. That was also the day my mom's hair fell out. She had mentioned for a few days how there were strands here and there, and in an attempt to make it as long as possible without having to wear a wig she didn't wash her hair for a couple days. That night, I was trying to get some stuff ready for a gallery show, and trying to come up with ideas for a website. I remember my mom saying she was going to take a shower, and a little while later I noticed my aunt and sister running around back and forth, talking with my mom in the bathroom.

I didn't think too much of it at first because I was wrapped in my own shit. But after a little bit, I headed upstairs to see what was going on. The three of them were standing in the bathroom looking in the mirror. My mom was wearing a wig, which wasn't an uncommon sight at that point. She had been trying some of them on, wearing them a little to try and get used to the idea.

After poking my head in the door, my aunt told my mom to take the wig off so we could all get used to "it" and so it wouldn't be shocking. I cannot describe the feeling the slammed into my gut when she pulled the wig off.

There stood my mother. The strongest member of our family. The one who's always the peacemaker. The one who bends over backwards for all of us and often times does. Her scalp was mostly white except for where strands of hair still stood together in clumps.

I can't tell you what my reaction was on the outside. I tried hard to be stoic though inside I felt anything but. I think we tried to joke about it, and she didn't falter one bit. She didn't let us see her cry. In fact, while she didn't necessarily smile, she reminded more of a shy little girl on the first day of school than someone who was sick. In the weeks to come, I'd revisit that image in my mind no matter how hard I tried to avoid it. I'd even come to miss it when I'd find her falling asleep in bed exhausted, pale skin tight on her head, wisps of hair in haphazard places. It scared the shit out of me and it still does.

After my mom's hair fell out, after she pulled that wig off, after we told her it was okay and she had "a cute little head," I did one of the toughest things I've ever had to do. I shaved my mom's head. And while I shaved and we evened out what was left of her hair, she took everything in stride. Like she always does.

A year later my mom is cancer free.

I don't really know why I felt the need to write this post. I guess it's been on my mind a bit, and I've found it harder to talk about now than I did then. I'm so thankful that things turned out okay. I'm amazed at the strength my family as a whole exhibited. I'm indebted to the friends who allowed me to vent the anger and frustration and sadness and fear and who whisked me away for a bit when things were just a bit too overwhelming.

And I'm pretty convinced that my mom can handle anything. (She rocks.)