would someone please tell me how the hell it got to be the sunday before thanksgiving? seriously wtf? it's finally getting chilly, not cold, but in the low 60's. brrr! *rolls eyes* looking forward to our trip up to arnold for thanksgiving (can't believe that d & i are celebrating our first big holiday together) but i'm so bummed that d2 won't get to come with us. long story... but same old bullshit.
bk took the kids yesterday. my faith in him is slightly renewed by one on-time cs payment and two not-so-random acts of kindness, in other words: large lattes to serve as spousal support (better than nothing). i asked him something yesterday and when his response puzzled me, i ribbed him and told him i thought he was lying. he's always been a terrible liar and i'm not sure why he continues to keep up aspects of the charade. i don't think that he gets that it undermines my trust in all other regards. oh well, things have at least been friendly and i've been aware of how i treat him because i know for damn sure that i don't want to treat him like a treats d. i've been offering him extra visitation (still only at monday nights and every other saturday) but he hasn't taken me up on it so far. i keep waiting for the overnights thing to come up again since both the kids are more than happy to spend the occasional night away, but it hasn't come up again.
the post i titled: the one where i can't tell where my body begins and the rest of me ends
as i suspected, the smell of the hospital (combined with a completely new cancer center) pushed me very near to the edge of myself, very desperate to find the people who knew (know?) this part of me. me with my 'sexy' long lungs. me able to position myself precisely for my anterior and left side chest x-rays because i've done it (had it done to me?) dozens upon dozens of times. since i went alone, all questions were directed at me, not my mom (novel idea; i'm just shy of 27). the whole thing is a strange experience because i've considered myself the expert on this part of me, this hospital, these butterfly needles, those lead radiation blocks. no more. finishing treatment was like being kicked out of a club and being told that my knowledge, my body was no longer useful or required. except once a year. my treatment was part of a clinical trial (i'm one of the 24 patients from stanford mentioned in the article though my post data isn't in there since i finished treatment right near the end of the study). my data still counts for something in the studies that will no doubt be published on the long-term effects of the particular chemo/radiatoion combo that i received. it's the same every year: thyroid dysfunction, potentially early menopause, cronic fatigue, elevated risk for breast cancer, thyroid cancer and leukemia, vascular necrosis, neuropathy in the joints, cardiovascular issues...these just the ones i was reminded of by my oncologist. and yet, in some sick way, it's validating. yes, it really happened. yes, they'll still bear witness. no, it isn't over.
bb after dinner
bk took the kids yesterday. my faith in him is slightly renewed by one on-time cs payment and two not-so-random acts of kindness, in other words: large lattes to serve as spousal support (better than nothing). i asked him something yesterday and when his response puzzled me, i ribbed him and told him i thought he was lying. he's always been a terrible liar and i'm not sure why he continues to keep up aspects of the charade. i don't think that he gets that it undermines my trust in all other regards. oh well, things have at least been friendly and i've been aware of how i treat him because i know for damn sure that i don't want to treat him like a treats d. i've been offering him extra visitation (still only at monday nights and every other saturday) but he hasn't taken me up on it so far. i keep waiting for the overnights thing to come up again since both the kids are more than happy to spend the occasional night away, but it hasn't come up again.
the post i titled: the one where i can't tell where my body begins and the rest of me ends
as i suspected, the smell of the hospital (combined with a completely new cancer center) pushed me very near to the edge of myself, very desperate to find the people who knew (know?) this part of me. me with my 'sexy' long lungs. me able to position myself precisely for my anterior and left side chest x-rays because i've done it (had it done to me?) dozens upon dozens of times. since i went alone, all questions were directed at me, not my mom (novel idea; i'm just shy of 27). the whole thing is a strange experience because i've considered myself the expert on this part of me, this hospital, these butterfly needles, those lead radiation blocks. no more. finishing treatment was like being kicked out of a club and being told that my knowledge, my body was no longer useful or required. except once a year. my treatment was part of a clinical trial (i'm one of the 24 patients from stanford mentioned in the article though my post data isn't in there since i finished treatment right near the end of the study). my data still counts for something in the studies that will no doubt be published on the long-term effects of the particular chemo/radiatoion combo that i received. it's the same every year: thyroid dysfunction, potentially early menopause, cronic fatigue, elevated risk for breast cancer, thyroid cancer and leukemia, vascular necrosis, neuropathy in the joints, cardiovascular issues...these just the ones i was reminded of by my oncologist. and yet, in some sick way, it's validating. yes, it really happened. yes, they'll still bear witness. no, it isn't over.
bb after dinner