Oh, hello! Help yourself to some hot wings and fries. Good stuff.
I had to force myself to not do the ugly cry tonight.
Almost three years ago, Madam X started to not feel well. We didn’t know what was going on, but she kept getting worse. She was tired all the time, her spleen was enlarged, her mental faculties were diminishing. She was gray. There’s no other way to accurately describe how she looked.
After six months or so of living like this and slowly deteriorating, Madam X was taken into the hospital emergency room. Her spleen was of a size that warranted immediate surgery. Since so much blood had been diverted to her spleen, she wasn’t able to think clearly. That explained her inability to think clearly and remember things and walk more than a block without needing to sit down. While they were in there, digging around, they found out that Madam X has cancer. Non-Hodgkins Lymphoma.
During that time, Madam X and Mister Y were in the process of selling the house in which they had lived for more than 40 years. They were moving into a smaller house that was newer and more manageable. There was a lot going on. Madam X was going through chemo, moving,. Everyone was completely stressed. Luckily, the cancer was caught early enough that radiation wasn’t needed in addition to the chemo. We were all really hopeful.
After the chemo, Madam X went into remission. She recovered slowly, but we were convinced that it was a blip on the radar. Every checkup seemed to be a reaffirmation of this, as the blood tests showed that all counts were good and this vile disease was being defeated.
This past summer, Madam X started to not feel good again. She was tired all the time. She didn’t want to go to the doctor until her regularly scheduled checkup, despite me begging her to do so. I think she knew, better than anyone, what the results were going to be. I should have known. So, in September, when she should have found out that, yet again, she was clear, she instead found out that the cancer is back.
Her doctor seemed to be optimistic and encouraging. Chemo was scheduled for every three weeks for 6 courses. The doctor said this was going to take care of it. I’ve been watching Madam X during all of this and I see that she’s not recovering as well this time. She remains tired all the time. She is certainly not bouncing back as quickly. I can feel my heart breaking.
Thanksgiving is coming up. Madam X does not want to, or can’t, do such an event. Her daughter suggested that we all go out for dinner instead. But even that seems like too much for Madam X. The last time I spoke with her daughter, she callously shot off a “She probably won’t be alive for it next year, so we should do something.”
(Pausing for the ugly cry now…. brb…)
I’m back.
So ever since, that statement has been on my mind. I asked Madam X’s son if he thought that statement was accurate too. He said that he didn’t think it would be that soon, but that it was coming. Hence, the ugly cry.
I love Madam X more than anyone else on the planet. She has been there for me through everything – good, bad, or indifferent. She has been an inspiration. She has been my cheerleader, my leveler, my hero, and my friend.
I know that, at 42, I am of an age where people in my life will be getting sick and/or dying. But in this situation, I feel like I am 12. I should be mature enough to handle this. Of course I will be sad. Of course it will hurt. But do I need to have a complete meltdown at just the THOUGHT of this person not being in my life? People die all the time, and their loved ones go on. They go on with life, with love, with living. They don’t lose their sh*t.
I don’t want to hurry this process along, but how am I going to deal with this brilliant, lovely, loving woman not being in my life? I need to find a way to hold it together the next time I see her, the next time we get together for breakfast. I mean, if I am this much of a mess as a result of some off-hand, snotty remark by Madam X’s daughter, what will I do when the real thing happens?
I am angry and sad and I know that it is completely unfair that this woman is sick. She has worked hard her entire life. She has given everything to her family and her children. She never asks for anything in return. She is kind, and loving, and sweet, and (normally) full of life.
Tonight, this is my struggle. This is my challenge. This is my reason for sobbing.
Madam X deserves better. She deserves to reach the end of her life surrounded by joy and beauty and love. She doesn’t deserve to have this horrible disease get the best of her.
Madam X, I love you and I want you to get better. And if fate is cruel and doesn’t allow that to happen, I want you to know that you will be with me forever – as a constant reminder of how to live, as a good and true person. I can only hope to, one day, be a fraction of the woman you are.
Oh, hello! Good to see you. Tonight we are having penne pasta with a red sauce, with meatballs and sausage. That will be followed up with glasses of Airborne.
I’m getting sick. A cold, I think. I was a little sick last week when I was on vacation (I KNOW!) but I thought I was over it. Nope. Scratchy throat, snotty nose, swollen glands. (I’m so pretty.)
And best of all, I get to fly to Toronto Monday morning. Up, up and away with some very likely sickies, who will be coughing and snotting and horking up a lung at 50,000 feet. I. Can’t. Wait. Maybe if I hide in bed all weekend, away from, you know, people, I won’t get sick. And I’ll have built up my immune system to be the super-power of germ fighting!!
No? I didn’t think so either.
More Airborne?
Oh, hello! Just getting the makings together for tacos. They will be up soon.
Yesterday? Sucked ass. Today? Much better.
I have been looking online for new tattoo ideas. I know I shouldn’t be, because I used to have one on my ankle and spent many, many, many dollars trying to get it removed. All it left me with is a 3rd degree burn scar, and some blue ink patches. It’s really pretty in the summer when the weather gets warm, and my scar gets angry and weepy and purple. Remind me to post pictures of it the next time it happens. Good times.
Two years ago at girl camp, I got a new tat. It’s a very proper kitten on my right back/hip. Not in the tramp stamp spot though. She’s very pretty- with green eyes, and pink in her ears. She looks like my twins, too, with the white “blouse” on.
And now I want to get another one. Every time I watch LA Ink, I want to get one. I’m thinking of some sort of Celtic Cross, with a Claddagh, and a word in Gaelic under it, but I can’t find the perfect design, and I don’t know how big, or where. I did see a really pretty one of a Claddagh across the instep, but OMGoat that must have hurt!!
I’ll keep looking. Maybe by the time girl camp rolls around again in April, I will have the right design (and the money) to get it.
Oh, hello. Have some tea and graham crackers.
Have you ever given someone advice about their life or how they are living it – whether invited to or not? (If you said no, you are a big giant liar. *grin*) I did this weekend and it got me thinking.
A friend had made a statement that I interpreted to mean that while she currently was in a very happy place in her life, she was holding back celebrating it out of fear. The way I understood the situation, she was either afraid of being happy because she has other friends who are struggling and didn’t want them to think she was rubbing it in; OR she was afraid because she has other friends who celebrated their happiness and it ended up going away.
What the hell do I know? Who am I? I was able to work myself up into a snit to tell her that she needed to be thrilled with her happiness and to celebrate or keep it quiet as she sees fit based on her own feelings, not based on others’ experiences.
Again – what the hell do I know?? I’m so consumed in my own brain, and my own thoughts, that looking back, I recognize I do EXACTLY what I told my friend not to do. It is so easy to give advice to others. I suppose it has something to do with an objective view of a situation. Or fresh eyes. Or it could have to do with being really, really meddlesome.
I’m pretty sure I fall into the meddlesome category. I’m not asked for advice, but I readily provide it. I’d like to think that I might have some nugget of wisdom to impart on occasion, but realistically I either need to just STFU or spend a little time cleaning my own house, so to speak. I need to quiet some of those nagging voices in my brain, the pointless nattering, the over-thinking of EVERYTHING.
I know it won’t be easy. But it’s necessary. And, who knows? Perhaps soon, I, too, will have something joyous to share. (Or not.)
Oh, hello! Come in and have some cantaloupe. It’s really lovely.
My intention was to write this (or similar) blog post Saturday night. However, life got in the way, so now it will be a “look back”, if you will.
As you may know, I was Slurpee Manager at the Gas ‘n Sip. For the past 2 years, an integration has been in the planning and execution so that we could merge with Pump ‘n Stuff to become one big giant gas conglomerate. The integration involved looking at every part of each company, determining who had better chip selections, who had prettier gas pumps, and who had more kick ass employees.
It became official this past weekend. The Gas ‘n Sip is no more. Pump ‘n Stuff is no more. We are now, collectively, known as Gas ‘n Stuff. We took on some of their stuff, they took on some of our stuff, and now we are all one. I’m still the Slurpee Manager.
So what’s the big deal? Part of this past weekend, all of the Slurpee staff, including the Leg Giggler and the two Co-Chief Pumpers was here, making sure that the Gas ‘n Stuff website was up and running correctly. (What? You would be amazed at the amount of Funyuns and Twizzlers we sell online. Don’t judge!) We were here from about 10pm Saturday night until about 8:30 Sunday morning. It. Was. MISERABLE.
There was a lot of sitting, a lot of “check in” conference calls, pizza, muffins, soda. I spent a bunch of time walking to stay away, since I don’t do caffeine anymore. By 8:30, I was so tired; I honestly thought I was going to vomit. I don’t know how people stay up for 24+ hours at a time. It scares me that medical interns do it. I was hardly able to form a coherent sentence, let alone have the wherewithal to do something important. Like, diagnose a problem or deal with a medical trauma.
So, what have I learned from this? What wisdom did I glean from this experience? I learned that the Slurpee staff is better people than I am that they can stay awake for extended periods of time and not become raging bitches. (Yeah, I became a raging bitch. I’m not proud of it. But there it is.) I learned that the Slurpee staff is a group of extremely talented, extremely intelligent Intertube people who should be very proud of their abilities. I learned that while I, too, am very talented and intelligent, it is a different kind of intelligence that doesn’t really fit with this group. I spent a lot of time feeling completely out of my element; more like I was creating MORE work than completing any. I learned that I need to get serious about finding another home – hopefully within the Gas ‘n Stuff family, but outside of it, if necessary. And I learned that while becoming Gas ‘n Stuff is exciting and may present new opportunities, I will miss the simplicity of the Gas ‘n Sip. I will miss the relative smallness of it. The fewer chip choices. The plainer pumps. After 5 years, it seems like it will be Business As Usual, but it’s still a fairly significant change. And I think I am sad about it.
But, onward now. Look to the future. The change has happened and won’t un-happen. Get on board, or go elsewhere. I have new Slurpee cups to unpack.
Oh hello! Just popping back in to ask a question. Have some Pop Rocks in honor of that.
Why is it that I KNOW the benefits of exercise and how good it is for you? I KNOW that I always feel better after exercising? The post-exercise fatigue? I like that too.
Then why is it that I am so loathe to do it? It’s too easy to just veg out on the sofa. Or read a book. Or sleep. What is it going to take to kick myself in the ass and exercise regularly?
Ideas welcome. 🙂
Oh, hello! Pull up a chair and help yourself to some fresh cut pineapple.
I spent today with my mother. She wanted to go to one of the local discount stores for material. She makes the most gorgeous quilts, and she had a new pattern to get material for. I was her designated chauffeur. Then we were going to lunch and the yarn store, because she also knits like a pro.
My mother drives me crazy. True, unadulterated, bat-shit crazy. At the same time, I really do consider her one of my heroes. Also, since she is now “of a certain age”, I know that the time we have together is growing more limited. Spending big blocks of time of her is a wonderful test of my patience and a way to calm down my ADD. I need to remember that she’s not as young as she was – she doesn’t move as quickly; she doesn’t make decisions as quickly; she needs more attention.
Part of Mum’s challenge is that she was recently sick. I won’t go into the details, because they aren’t mine to tell, but as well as she’s doing, she is still not feeling “right”. I’m worried about her; and I know she is worried about it, but won’t say anything because she doesn’t want to be a burden.
Mum came over here to the states in the early 60s. That’s huge. I have great admiration for anyone who leaves their comfort zone – be it their job, their state, their country! – to take on a whole new challenge. A new culture. My mom did that. Hero reason #1.
Growing up, we didn’t have a lot of money. We weren’t poor, but we didn’t have “extra”. I only figured this out after the fact. I can’t speak for my brother Herb, or The Sister, but I never was aware that our family had any money issues. We never had all the big name brand stuff, but that was okay. I love that both my parents worked so hard and made us feel loved. Hero reason #2.
My mother is one of the most generous people I know. She is willing to do most anything for anyone at any time. There are times when she goes overboard – food related times mostly – but it’s all done with the best intentions. She is loving and caring. Hero reason #3.
On the downside, Mum can talk. Good gravy, Mabel. She can talk a cat off a tuna wagon. For real. The 5 hours we spent together today – she probably spent 3 1/2 of it talking. I hardly got a word in. And if I did try to relay some story, she interrupted and took the tale off in some random direction. For this reason, I need to get into the right frame of mind before I spend a lot of time with her. I don’t want to get irritated with her or mad at her for something so silly. Who knows – in another few years, I could end up longing for one of these days together. I hope it’s longer than a few though.
So that’s Mum. My hero. I love her. And she is a big reason why I am the person I am. I hope she’s around for a long time yet. If I’m lucky, she will be.
Oh, hello! We’re having dinner this evening – barbecue pulled pork, brown rice, steamed Brussel sprouts. Dig in!
Recently, I wrote a post about being lonely, which if I may say so was a big hit. That wasn’t why I wrote it, but I’m thankful for the praise I’ve received.
That said, my post tonight is NOT about me being lonely, but it is about me being restless. Restless in my life. Restless in my job. I feel like I would love to shake things up and move away and change jobs. But of course, if that were to happen, I would freak out and cry and not want to go. Because, as the saying goes, wherever you go, there you are. Moving away and changing jobs won’t cure my restlessness. And can I tell you why? Can I?
BECAUSE I DON’T KNOW WHY I’M RESTLESS!! If I knew that, I could fix it. Maybe I look around and see others making changes or maybe it’s because things at the Gas ‘n Sip are changing, and I’m either jealous or anxious or scared. (Things at the Gas ‘n Sip ARE changing. I believe they are getting rid of the Slurpee Station, so I may end up at the Nacho Bar or on the Wiener Wheel. I think I would really like the Wiener Wheel – I would totally bogart some of that melty orange cheese from the nachos for the wieners. Sales will skyrocket!! More about that at another time.)
What I think I need to do is to spend a little time trying to figure out what is bothering me. What is it that is making me fidgety? Why am I unsatisfied? What am I unsatisfied with? Oh, these huge existential philosophical conundrums with which I am dealing. Sometimes it’s hard to to be me. Wait, conundrums? Conundra? Hmmm. I think I need to go check that.
Have you ever had (what you consider) a really good friend? One who you spent a huge amount of time with, laughing and having fun? But then all of a sudden, they start to pull away? You see them less and less? They call you less and less? You call them, but get voice mail more than a person? It’s sad, and it hurts, and it’s part of life. Everyone comes into and goes out of your life for a purpose. Some stay longer than others and some make more of an impact on your life than others.
So, have you ever had that happen to you? No? Me either. *snort*
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