Sleepy Thoughts

I've been in a bit of a fog for the past few days, just sorting things out in my head and coming up with more questions than I thought possible. I don't have a headache--more of a brain ache. I feel like I'm in a pretty good place right now, but probably going through a lot of normal stuff, too. Stuff like randomly getting mad over nothing, some occasional denial...oh wait, that's how I am everyday. HA!

I am unusually tired tonight. I think the combination of stress of worrying about what might be wrong combined with the stress and relief of now knowing what actually is wrong has finally caught up with me. I've been yawning for the past hour. I think it's time to go to sleep now.

The "C" Word

It starts with “C”, is six letters long and has a nasty habit of instilling fear in the hearts of people who hear it.

Cancer.

I have officially been diagnosed with cancer.

I got the biopsy results today, and it turns out that once again, I have done a stellar job of defying all odds. Bladder cancer happens more often in men. I am a woman. Bladder cancer happens most often after the age of 55. I am 31. This particular type of cancer is nearly always caused by lifelong smoking habits and/or daily exposure to industrial chemicals and dyes. I am a non-smoker and a therapist/teacher.

Gotta love a woman who can beat the odds, huh?

Cancer.

The word sounds strange and it feels even stranger to have it come rolling off my tongue in description of myself.

I…Have…Cancer.

Peculiarly enough, I am not afraid. Cancer is no longer a death sentence. And I mean let’s face it—Heaven doesn’t want me and hell is probably afraid I’d take over. (HA!!) Seriously though, the way I see it, this is simply a situation that will be dealt with and handled, and I’m going to be fine. The cancer itself is typically non-aggressive and at this point, doesn’t require any chemotherapy or radiation. The best course of treatment is surgery to remove any remaining cancerous tissue (though at this point, the doctor has every reason to believe he removed all of it during the surgery) and to have routine procedures at a minimum of every 90 days to monitor the situation.

Of course there are more exhausting details, but for now, I’m putting my confidence in the doctor/surgeon (thank you, Mr. Hottie Doc) and my faith in God.

I said before my surgery that God would be the same on July 1st (the day of the surgery) as He was on June 30th. And I believed with all my being that He would be the same the day I got the results (today) as He has always been. That hasn’t changed.

This isn’t quite the path I was planning on for myself, but it seems the Big Man has other ideas, so as I venture down this new and unfamiliar road, I find myself wondering what other big excitement lies ahead.

Cranky, Party of 3, Your Table is Ready...

I am ready to pull my hair out.

No, I'm really not joking.

I would, however, be happy to pull out someone else's hair in order to save myself the headache from pulling out my own. Any volunteers? Kidding, of course.

My husband has been unemployed for 6 days and I don't know what to do for him. I'm trying to be supportive and listen and be available, etc., but I feel like I'm not doing a very good job. I know he's gloomy and the job market is tight, but I can't change that part of it. My kiddo is cranky and has been sick since Friday night (MAJOR stomach upset), and my husband is irritated that I keep asking him not to give her any milk or cheese. He gave her mac and cheese for lunch today and it zipped right through her. Now he's cranky because I'm cranky, and I'm cranky because I've been cleaning up after her and she's cranky because she doesn't feel well and her stomach keeps cramping. My poor babies.

Have I mentioned how glad I am that I have a job to go back to tomorrow?

Getting Frugal

Well, with my darling spouse out of work and us navigating the unemployment mine field for the first time, it occurred to me that even though I'm pretty good with a budget, there's no doubt we're going to have to cut some things out.

Necessities, of course, will take the top of the list in priorities every month--i.e. house payment, student loan payments, groceries, utilities, medications, etc. There's no way to prioritize those items, because let's face it...at the end of the day, as a mother, I can't choose between giving my daughter a good meal and giving her the medication she needs. They're equally important.

There's definitely some "fat" we can trim starting next month, mainly in the way of things like cable, going out to eat, etc.

Today we decided to indulge a little bit for the 4th of July holiday weekend, knowing full well it's going to be a while until we do any kind of indulging again. We went to Dominick's (where we usually don't shop because the prices are a bit high) and found out that there were some smokin' sales. We bought almost 6 pounds of bananas, a huge watermelon, cheddarwursts (for grilling tomorrow), some breakfast sausage and enough fixings for me to bring lunch every day next week for work. We splurged and bought some ice-cream, too, which is a nice treat.

Total amount spent: $38.68

Total amount saved: $32.30

Total savings: 46%

Not too shabby, eh?

Feeling Okay!

I'm happy to say that surgery went well! The entire mass was removed and the biopsy results should be back in the next week or two. I'm sore, but my pain is being managed and even better, the doctor gave me a prescription for Zofran, which has completely eliminated all the nausea/vomiting I usually experience.

The hubby is keeping an eye on me and my sweet kiddo keeps coming up to me and asking if I'm okay. She's repeatedly kissed my belly (she understood the concept that I had a boo-boo inside), but she's way more concerned about the bruise forming on my hand from the IV. She's kissed my hand a dozen times already.

Speaking of kisses, I did blow a kiss to the anesthesiologist before I went completely under. I haven't heard about any other antics...yet.

Just Wishin'...and Hopin...and Thinkin'...and Prayin'...

I'm wishing I could settle down and get some sleep.

I'm hoping that my surgery tomorrow is quick and easy.

I'm thinking that no matter what, I'm going to say or do something completely embarrassing because of the anesthesia.

And I'm praying that my surgeon gets a good night's sleep, that his baby isn't fussy, and that he and his wife aren't bickering about anything. Wanting him to be well-rested, focused, alert and steady is not just for my benefit, but for the benefit of all the patients he's operating on tomorrow.

G'night.

Sunday Secret...Meeting God?

Whoever sent this into Post Secret...you're not alone. I've spent many years of my life quietly (and sometimes not so quietly) dealing with people I find to be very frustrating, but I always keep it in the back of my mind that there's a history there I know nothing about...that there are angels among us...that God is everywhere.

Requesting a Do-Over

I would appreciate it very much if I could somehow get a do-over for the month of June.

This month, I found out that I have a tumor that needs to be removed.

I cracked my head open on my desk at work (long story, boiling down to the fact that I'm clumsy).

My husband found out that his agency is closing on June 30th and he's out of a job. He's out of work on the 30th, my surgery is the 1st. Good thing I have my own insurance!


I won't go on and bore you with the details. All of the above is enough by itself.

On a lighter (and much funnier) note, one of my friends asked me if I'm worried about the tumor being cancerous. I laughed and said I have way more important things to worry about...things like:

• **Whether I'll pee on the surgeon's hand when he takes out the catheter after surgery (at least I'll be knocked out and I won't know!).
• **If I'm going to say or do anything really embarrassing as a result of the anesthesia...typically, I ask some weird questions, cry for a few minutes, proposition whichever medical personnel happens to be standing next to me in the recovery room when I wake up, and then vomit uncontrollably for 12 hours.
• **Whether any part of the above mentioned really embarrassing anesthesia-related issues will be laughed at later by the doctors/nurses...and whether any of them will tell my spouse!
• **Whether any part of my naked body will end up on YouTube.

See, those are the big things to be concerned about. Because really, does it matter if I have cancer if a picture of my butt is on the internet?? Of course, this is all tongue-in-cheek--I'm just keeping my mood light, because there's no point in worrying too much about anything. God will be the same on July 1st as He is right now.

But, um, God? If possible, perhaps some better days can come my way? It would be much appreciated!

Martha...Unplugged

Or un-glued. Or un-hinged.

Or just good old fashioned falling apart.

I'm usually pretty level-headed, but it seems as though there's a force working against me lately, and I'm getting a bit...well, never mind.

So. The surgery for the "tooo-muh" is scheduled for July 1st. It's been an interesting ride so far. This went from being a simple procedure that could take place in the office, to a procedure done in the office with a local anesthetic...to an outpatient surgery at the hospital with a local anesthetic...to a regular surgery with general anesthesia.

If I felt more comfortable with profanity, I can guarantee I would be swearing enough to set some kind of record. Then I laugh to myself, because there's really no point in getting worked up over it. It is what it is.

Speaking of what is, there is an up side to all of this. Surgery is July 1st, so I'm taking off the 1st and 2nd, but then my office is closed that Friday and the following Monday for the 4th of July holiday, so that will save some of my benefit time. I'm also thinking that this bit of post-surgery-forced-relaxation could be good for me. I have no choice but to lay around and do nothing. No household chores, no running around. I can sit around and doze in the sun, read books, watch television and be a big couch potato.

This has nothing to do with anything, but I bought my husband a folding poker-table for Father's Day. I got pulled over on the way home, and I thought for sure I was going to get a ticket because of the way it was jammed into my car and obstructing my view through the back window, but the officer said he just wanted to see for himself that yes indeed, there was a woman driving through town with a 10-seater poker table. He said that my husband is one lucky dude. I agree.

An Ode to Arnold: It's a Tooooo-muh

I've been going back and forth trying to make up my mind whether to share this piece of information on my blog, but finally decided that it wouldn't hurt anything to share. I may not see my "bloggy friends" in my daily life, but bloggy friends are still friends and it seems like we all share a lot of our ups and downs.

This is a bit of a "down."

The short version of this downer is this: I have a tumor in my bladder and I'm a little freaked out about it. I'm waiting on the hospital and my insurance to work out the details of the surgery that's needed to remove it. I'm hoping to know early next week when it'll be scheduled.

The history/longer version of it is this: For anyone who's read my blog for a while, you've likely seen more than a few posts where I complain/whine/gripe about the frequency with which I get UTIs and kidney infections/stones. I'd been having a good stretch with no problems for a little bit, when some routine labwork showed a few abnormalities. I had no problems or symptoms, but on a microscopic level, there was something going on. My doctor, who is getting ready to retire, had me see an associate who recently joined the practice. My first impression left a bit to be desired, but the second impression was much better. Especially when she said that she was a family practitioner and she didn't think it was within her scope of experience to manage my case and she wanted me to have the best care possible. She recommended a specialist, so off I went.

It's not important, but I would like to say that the specialist is young and quite attractive. He shall henceforth be known as the hottie doc. HD for short.

Anyway, HD saw me for a consultation and basic exam, did more labwork and other than some peculiar hematuria (blood in my urine), he couldn't find anything wrong. He recommended a minor procedure to take a look inside and see what was going on--I felt like it was a waste of time, because a CT scan hadn't shown anything, but I agreed. He said that given my history, it was likely that I either A.) had a kidney stone stuck somewhere that had never passed and may have adhered to the bladder wall or gotten stuck in one of the tubes, or B.) given the number of stones and infections I've had, it might be some irritation/inflammation or scar tissue.

My thoughts were along the lines of, "Okay, fine, whatever." He did mention in passing that it was possible, but very, very unlikely, that I could have a tumor. I raised my eyebrows at him, but he was quick to reassure me that the odds are almost statistically non-existent. For a healthy, 31 year old female, the odds were something like 0.05%.

I always have been the type of person to defy all odds.

I had the procedure done on Thursday morning and all was going well (if uncomfortably), until I heard HD murmur, "Hmmmmm." I partially sat up, laughed a little and asked him if all doctors take a class called "Scaring Patients 101: Mastering the Hmmmmm."

He asked me to lay back down, then turned the monitor my way and pointed out some healthy tissue, then moved the scope a bit to show me another area. I suddenly understood the "Hmmmm." He reminded me that the scope magnifies everything, so certainly the tumor wasn't as big as it looked, which is good, though it didn't change the fact that there is indeed a tumor there.

He did mention that he was shocked when he found it and wondered out loud who was more shocked, him or me. I told him since he got to keep his pants on, and I was the one stuck in an ugly hospital gown, I had paid my dues and earned the right to be more shocked.

There were a lot of words thrown around...transitional cells, noninvasive papillary tumor, urothelial papillary something-or-other. I asked him to skip the medical jargon and he said, "It's a tumor and I need to remove it."

I've been processing all of this, feeling alternately anxious and annoyed. I'm sure I'll feel better once there are some actual answers and not just a bunch of what-ifs and maybes.

So, that's the scoop. Not much to tell, but definitely enough by itself. Right now, my little kiddo is asking me to lay down on the couch with her to watch a movie and that sounds really good. I'll post as I know more; and of course, I'll keep posting about how I'm trying to navigate crazy-a$$ highway we call life.