VICTORY!!!!

September 30, 2009 Wednesday

Victory is mine!!! Not only have we destroyed Mr. Lumpy, we got him at Stage One. Nothing in the Nodes (sentinel nor the other 4 little nodes near the sentinel) Nine out of Ten specimens taken were negative!!! Only Mr. Lumpy. Now the long gone dead Mr. Lumpy. So we do the Happy Dance, even though I can't raise my right arm all the way Yet. I'm doing the Happy Dance. I still have more work to do, but the relief I feel today eclipses tomorrow's path/chapter.

End of Chapter Two. ON to Chapter Three. The Dark Scary Road known as Chemo Way and Radiation Lane. I DON'T CARE!!!!! Mr. Lumpy is Dead. Ding Dong the Lump is dead which ol' Lump, Mr. Lump(Y) Ding Dong the wicked lump is dead.......Singing for joy.

Tomorrow I meet the oncologist Dr. Spire (not sure of the spelling but I know where I'm going) Then the radiation oncologist on Oct. 13. I'll find out the course of action to be taken, and I'm ready for battle. I can only see Complete and Total Victory. So what if I lose my hair, I puke my guts out, I get tired. My hair will grow back and I won't, I swear to you all as my witnesses, I will NOT dye it. So get ready for the Silver Mama! If I puke, I'll lose weight, and over time it'll get better. I get tired, I'll sleep, and get caught up on all the hours over my life I lost sleep. The end justifies the means. I can say this now, but check back with me in a month or two and remind me of this statement. I'll hate you for it, but I'll thank you for the reminder in the end.

Bummer part of it all, I still can't go back to dance class for another 2-3 weeks. Ugh. But I will get back to class, Promise! I'm moving, maybe not that great, but I'm moving and I will get back to class and I will be there in my spotlight in class, dancing from my heart, not caring how well I dance (okay that's a lie) I always care how well I dance. I promise to try to keep it in perspective. I'll try not to judge myself too hard.

I'm so excited!!!!!! Thank you Dr. Axelrod!!!! You ROCK!!!!! You are Super Star, and I LOVE YOU SO MUCH!!!!!!! Thank you Dr. Berman for removing my "A Cup" and helping me feel sexy again. Ed thanks you, too, both of you. Thank you Dr. Cayne for the Port in advance so I avoid all those nasty needle pricks. I am the luckiest gal on the planet.

STAGE ONE!!!!! NOT TWO, THREE OR FOUR. STAGE ONE!!! YA HEAR ME? STAGE ONE!!!! I WIN, I AM VICTORIOUS.

Thank you Rose for giving me the wonderful gift of Nam Myoho Renge Kyo. If there was doubt before it is gone. I'm convinced. Life is great.

So....here's the deal my dear gal pals. GET YOUR MAMMOGRAMS, and be ridiculously safe and do self breast exam whenever you take a shower, it takes just a few moments and you'll get to know your breasts and the subtle changes so if (God forbid) a Mr. Lumpy pops up, you catch it like I did, AT STAGE ONE!!!!!! Do the right thing, take a shower tonight and feel up your boobs. They'll thank you for it.

; D

Off to have the best day in a long time.

Nite!

Love and Light

Melissa

FOLLOW UP VISITS

September 30, 2009 Wednesday

So today, I go to the Surgeons' offices for follow up. Dr. Berman at Noon, remove the drain, check the progress of suture healing. Then downstairs to Dr. Axelrod's office to check out the work. Get the word on the pathologies, and the next step in the game. Radiation, chemo, herceptin, who will I go to for that. A big day, I'm so ready to get this drain out. It's been the bane of my world these past few days. So today, by 1pm I'll be free of the drain. I'm so happy!

I'm nervous about the pathology reports, I'm hoping they will be the better end of good news, so I'll be sure to re post later to those results. I couldn't write yesterday, just simply too tired and the nerve pain in my wrist was too much to type yesterday. It's getting better, but still stinging me from time to time. My range of motion is improving, but that darn drain holds me back. My husband was amazed when he looked at my back and saw that I didn't have the A Cup there anymore. You would have thought I was the sexiest woman in the room. To him, I was. That's why I love him. Here I am cut up, drain hanging out of me, bruised breasts, smelling to high heaven because I can't bathe or shower, and my husband thinks I'm sexy. Priceless. I'm not quite to the point of feeling "sexy" yet, nor am I ready to even think about getting down to business, if you know what I mean, but to hear that I'm sexy...def good thing to hear. Good for the morale. Ed was home Monday, but only for the day, he had to leave that evening for Albany, and he most likely won't be home again until the beginning of November, so October is looking to be a lonely stretch of time. Phone calls once a day, and letters with the paycheck will be the course for the month. November will be the month of giving thanks. Thanks to having my hubby home.

But I have to say, Follow up visits to my faith have been met. I have had several friends in crisis of one kind or another. I tested my faith. I challenged it by saying, "Okay, give me proof that Nam Myoho Renge Kyo really works." So I chanted for many things, not just for me, but for my many friends in crisis. I believe in the mystic power for sure now. My friend who hasn't been employed for way too long, and nothing seemed to be coming through. It looked as if he would have to take a job with a 3 hour commute one way, not get to see his kids or wife, things were bleak. So I chanted for him to find the perfect job, close to home that paid a good wage...he got the offer to a perfect job, 20 minutes from home, good pay. My other friend whose hubby is very sick and the chemo is having a field day with him; hospitalized not doing well. I chanted for his quick return to health so he can go home and be with his wife. He went home and is doing better. I was concerned for my daughter and the chaos she finds herself in. So again, I chanted for her find the path to serenity, she called me last night and she will be moving to a place that will offer her peace and breathing room from the chaos that swirls like an edie around her trying to drag her down. She wasn't happy, but now she has breathing room, she will find joy and happiness soon. I know it. As for me and my needs, I asked for minimal pain, quick recovery, and the best possible news on follow up. So far, I've gotten two of the three requests. But that said, I have complete faith that the third request will fall easily into place.

This is not to push what I have found on anyone else. I am just simply stating my amazement at how truly mystical it is, and how simply it is applied. I am my own Buddha, I have found peace in my turbulent ocean, a life raft. So I continue to chant, and know that prayer, in any form, is an amazing power. Mystical, magical, and merciful. So please don't stop praying for me and for anyone else. The power of prayer can move mountains, it can change the course of rivers, and it will bring peace.

I'll post later on my follow up visits. So tune back in soon.

Morning!

Love and Light!

Melissa

ENTITLEMENT

September 28, 2009 Monday

I didn't post over the weekend. So I apologize for that. Saturday was a day of rest for me. I spent a great deal of it in bed, resting. I clearly had done too much in the days before, thinking I was Superwoman. So although I felt good, I was spent, physically, emotionally, spiritually, and therefore rest was the order of the day. I decided that I would go to the SGI Center on Sunday to go to services with Rose. I needed to go, because I needed a dose of energy, spiritual energy. So I woke on Sunday, still feeling drained, but determined to go . I went ready to draw from the well of positive thinking. And a young man spoke of Soka Spirit. How one must be ready to defend the Supreme Law. He was inspiring. He made us laugh, and his gift to me was his pure innocence. His respect for another human beings feelings. I left feeling more energized, still tired but a part of me less so. And as Rose and I walked down Broadway, my cloud of exhaustion began to lift; we laughed, and walked. As we came to Broadway and 9th St. we began to cross the street and a car on the corner began to back up. Ohio plates, Mercedes Benz, very nice car, but backing up into us, swinging wildly back and forth, the driver looking straight at us with a look of "GET OUT OF MY WAY!" Not me, I had the right of way, the little white crossing guy was on my side. Where was he planning on going? straight into Broadway's speeding traffic? Where were Rose and I to go, into traffic? So I spanked the trunk to draw the driver's attention to us. Nothing changed. He kept backing up trying to scare us. WTF!? I can't move quickly, walking is my top speed. I was scared because he would not stop his weird fishtail dance, we couldn't figure out where he wanted to go. Why didn't he just pull forward and go on down 9th St? We got around him, but I wanted an apology. So I banged on the hood of his car with my cell phone. The man refused to look at me. Big mistake. So I banged on his window with my cell phone and fist as I juggled the cup of hot tea in my right hand and somehow held on to the umbrella I was carrying. Again, he refused to look at me. Then he turned the wheel sharply almost hitting me again. I hit his car with my cell-phoned fist ( I don't' really know how the phone did not break) and got out of this maniacs way. He pulled into traffic on Broadway and grabbed the object of his desire across the street ~ a parking place in front of Anne Taylor's Loft. I stood across the street, fuming. I saw his Handicap placard swinging from the rear-view mirror, and decided that enough was enough. So I marched myself across Broadway (with the light) and went to his car, where he sat smug in his acquisition. I again knocked on his windshield of the all-mighty Mercedes Benz and insisted he speak with me. Again, he ignored me; just continued to look away, but this time he was trapped, for I stood in the pouring rain with my hot tea in one hand my umbrella in the left and continued to insist he get out of the car or roll down the window and apologize for his crappy driving behavior. I knocked on the window until he finally exploded and opened his door. Rose stood across the street in astonishment. He yelled at me, I yelled at him. I told him he almost hit us, that we had the right of way, we had the light, the little white guy, that I was a little white guy walking with the little white guy. He had to yield the right of way to us, especially because he didn't even have the light. He yelled back at me from the leather covered seats of his MB, " I saw you, I wasn't even close. I wouldn't have hit you." Well, perspective is an interesting thing, because both Rose and I felt threatened by him. I told him so. But what made me go across the street to his car...the fact that he would not acknowledge my presence as a fellow human being. One that he had wronged, and the mere fact that he refused to stop, look at me, and apologize was proof that he knew he had done wrong. That he had put a parking place in front of the lives of two women. Then he did the most incredulous thing, he grabbed his handicap placard and said, "I have a handicap card, I can move how ever I like." I was stunned. The Handicap Placard as a defense? So I stung back with the typical New York Melissa response. "Handicap card? Please! That does not Entitle you to drive over people who are rightly within the crosswalk, so pardon me if I have no sympathy for you." He accused me of putting my "bad day" on him. I retorted with, "I was having a perfectly wonderful day until you tried to back up over us and then refuse to apologize for your bad driving." He then pulled the pity card. "WELL, I had surgery this week on my knee. so I've had a bad week." Can anyone guess my next response? Yep, if you know me even just a tad you know what came next. So as I stood in the rain under my umbrella held by my left hand, the hot tea in my right, my mind raced with these thoughts..."Hot tea to the face? or rip open my shirt and show this asshole my breasts. Tea or boobs, tea or boobs....what to do?" So I did the only "Melissa" thing to do. I slammed the hot tea cup down on the hood of that very fine Mercedes Benz from Ohio; slammed my umbrella down on the hood of the car and ripped open my shirt to reveal the sutures, the massive bruising and the port looking swollen and nasty and said, "Poor you, I have no idea what you've been through this week, I've just had breast cancer surgery, but poor you, of course you are more entitled than I." I then went off on a rant about his so-called entitlement, and how his handicap card, his crutches, his surgery were still no excuse for bad behavior, and that I wanted justice. He yelled back at me, "WEll? What do you want from me?" it was so simple, but the moment had passed, and I told him what he should have done. When I banged on your trunk, when I banged on the hood of your car, when I banged on the window, you ignored me, a fellow human being, and didn't take the time to stop nor apologize for doing wrong. It could have ended across the street with a simple apology, but today, I would not be ignored. Today, I insisted on the apology. Today, I was ENTITLED for the apology. I had done nothing wrong, you, on the other hand, had done wrong, and you knew you had by your own refusal to acknowledge another human. You crossed a line in your so-called entitlement for a parking space because you have a handicap placard. You try to shove your bad day off onto me, and don't understand when I refuse to take your bad day. You have no right to strike out with a vehicle. What you did was wrong, illegal, both morally and ethically. He refused to apologize. I knew in my heart that he wouldn't, but I had so hoped that he would. So I crossed Broadway back to Rose as she stood under the Staples header looking on in fear, embarrassment of my behavior, I couldn't read her face. When I looked back across the street, there he stood ready to cross back over from where he had come carrying his crutches. No limp, no crutch under his arm, just walking back across the street. He got what he wanted, the almighty parking space with the use of his handicap placard. So I let out a primal scream of frustration and with all of my lung capacity I yelled back at him, "YOU F*CK*NG RICH B*ST*RD!" Then I apologized for my righteous indignation to Rose, and her reply caught me off guard. "Good for you! Let it out. Get all of the anger out. That is good. Go for it." She made it all right for me to get mad, I was "entitled". I had lost control, all control, I had bared my breasts to a total stranger for shock value, and almost, truly almost thrown a steaming hot cup of tea in his face, and Rose said, "Good Girl."

Entitlement. the definition is interesting ~ Noun. the fact of having a right to something.

Later that night I heard from a friend whose husband is suffering with cancer and his chemo is particularly having a field day with him. He has been hospitalized for the very thing that is meant to save his life. She is terrified. She reached out to me because I understand her fear. She feels guilty for being sad, and can't stop crying. She even posted that she knows she doesn't' deserve to feel this way. Entitlement. the fact of having a right to something. If anyone was entitled to the right to something today, it was she. She has the right to be afraid, to cry, to feel alone, no one has the right to take those feelings from her. So cry dear friend, who will be there for you? You must feel what you feel, do what you must do, you don't need a Handicap placard to give you the right. I love you and your venerability, your ability to reach out for support. Cancer isn't easy. It's ugly, it's mean, it's war. Your love, your tears your prayers are what will get you through this.

So let us review. Who is entitled?

Man driving erratically against traffic in violation of crosswalk laws because he has a Handicap placard swinging from the rear-view mirror of his swanky Mercedes Benz? NO! He is only entitled to park in the Handicap parking places. His lack of compassion compounds his problem. He needs to work on compassion, not self pity.

Woman who almost gets hit by car days after having breast cancer surgery? Yes! I was in the crosswalk walking with the light. Regardless of my health issues.

Woman who cries alone in her bed at night while her husband lies in a hospital bed fighting for his life. A woman who is told to quit being selfish and only think about her husband? She is the most entitled. She is entitled to the world's compassion.

Entitlement. Think the next time you "think" you are entitled to something. Are you really? or are YOU just being a selfish person. Own your mistakes, it only takes a second to be forgiven. Reach out to those in pain, who suffer from the fear of losing someone they love. Acknowledge your fellow human being. Help someone cross the street, learn patience, and always give compassion. Do it because it is the right thing to do. Do it because it takes no time at all to be decent, but when in the wrong, a lifetime to work it off your karma. I feel bad for the man who felt entitled to everything yesterday. I'm sure he felt he was, but not at the expense of the safety of others.

Nite!

Love and Light

Melissa

A BETTER DAY.

September 25, 2009 Friday

TGIF!!! This was my FB status today. I slept better, considering the pain, but as the medication wears off I'm awaken with the dull ache of my port throbbing, reminding me that the dreams of being well are just that, dreams. If the pain begins I can be pretty sure that I've gone too long without it. Six hours is about all the time between the pain meds I can take. Waking is often a stiff experience, and no boys, not that...the port is there as a constant reminder that there is something not quite right. So I take my antibiotics and my vicatin and face the day. I'm not allowed to shower until the drain comes out (next Wednesday) eww, but sponge bathes will do the trick for now. Only problem, I can't wash my hair. So mom and I headed out to the Hair Salon to get my hair washed. I love my Hair Salon. Tony, Luis, Ami. The very best people ever. I walked in and Tony looked so surprised, but very happy. Luis washed my hair, and they wouldn't let me pay for the shampoo. I'm so lucky. So as I'm wrapping things up, Cathy walks in. Surprise! So we go for lunch at the Cloisters here in the East Village and sit in the courtyard, and enjoy each other's company. The pain fades to near nothing. We finish and head over to Ann Taylor where Cathy buys me a beautiful scarf. Cathy had to get going and I convince my mom to go to Bed Bath and Beyond at 18th & 6th Ave. A little stroll, for me. We needed a new shopping cart. The Sunday before surgery we went shopping at Trader Joe's to load up on food for the week. Now our cart was on its last legs, but this trip proved to be the end of the line for a cart that was way past it's expiration date. Every bump in the road, every turn was certain to be it's last. I watched the wheel as it wobbled along wagging wildly with every turn. The axle cracking, the spokes breaking off one at a time falling in the street behind us. I kept willing the wheel to stay on, please only 8 blocks, and 2 avenues, a steep walkway and up the elevator and down the hallway to my front door. I reach the door and as if on cue...the wheel makes a cracking sound, the final spoke gives way and the wheel collapses under the weight of the grocery run. The end. RIP shopping cart. We drag the cart inside and laugh at our good fortune. Hence the trip to BBandB to pick up a new shopping cart. It's a new beginning. New cart, new look, no lumps, no bumps, only scars. I'm tired, but I feel good. It was good to get out today. I waited 7 hours to take pain meds, that felt great. Not to be tied to the meds feels great! Life is good. My Husband's cousin Patty had her port removed three months ago, a true sign of freedom. I can't wait for that day when I get to have the port removed. Bliss! True Bliss. Now to my Mom. I need to take care of her. I wore her out today. Nana boot camp. I feel bad, I'm so used to walking all over the city that I sometimes forget that is not normal for most people. My mom sits with a heating pad on her back, and looks so tired. I'll have to dial it down tomorrow. Pace myself. Perhaps scrub the floors, do laundry, bake a few loaves of bread....nah kidding. I think I'll sleep in, and just hang out.

Did I say, Life is Good!? Well, it is.

Nite!

Love and Light

Melissa

HITTING THE WALL

September 24, 2009

I had a rough day today. Can't really put a finger on it, just a rough day. I woke thinking Ian had overslept, so the day was yanked awake. Maybe that was it, or maybe it's three days out from surgery. My drain put out more than usual today. So That sucked. Then I had to cut checks, open mail, and get the insurance EOBs. Funny what the insurance company deems payable on one hand and then what they disallow on the other. It makes me crazy. I know, I know, I really shouldn't pay attention to the EOBs, the cost, the sky-rocketing costs to our family. I should focus on the healing, the mending, the getting 100% cancer-free, but somehow the insurance company always intrudes and hits you hard, and mean.

I had to call about a procedure that was done on Sarah last July 2008, and she had three insurances, two of her own, and one under Ed. Do you know we still owe $594 for that procedure? Because the secondary insurance has decided to deny coverage. Unnecessary procedure. Interesting since the primary paid for it and thought it was relevant. So I call the Billing department. We talk, Carolyn and I, for several minutes and get on the same page. I try to call SAG to find out exactly why they won't pay. I'm met by LAURA, the most selfish person on the planet. I have dealt with Sarah's medical insurance from day one. Now that she's 18 it's as if I'm some interloper trying to steal my daughter's identity. I have spoken with other people at SAG since Sarah turned 18 without any difficulty before, but can't help but think that this B*tch has been instructed to stonewall me. "Is your daughter also on the line?" She snidely replied. "She has to be on the line in order to say it's okay for you to talk to me, I can't release any information to you without her express permission." Well, I was being honest. I could have easily have called and said I WAS Sarah, how would she know? "We would know, we'd ask questions only Sarah could answer." Like what? Her Social Security number? her address? her DOB? What color are her eyes? Who she kissed last night? What bull sh*t!!! I could answer any of those questions and they'd never know it wasn't Sarah. It had me so upset, and I was already not feeling well, and the day went down from there. I shamed her and the insurance company. Sarah paid her insurance, paid in full right up front, not in quarterly payments, IN FULL. SHAME ON THEM! for trying to get out of paying. We should not have to pay more than the $25 co-pay seeing she was covered three ways to Sunday. We are responsible for the payment, me and Ed, not Sarah, but somehow we aren't allowed to appeal their judgement????!!!!! I hung up so upset. I cried and cursed LAURA. "I hope you, Laura, get breast cancer and every single person you love. I hope you have a child who needs constant medical attention. Expensive medical attention and get turned down for every single procedure and told it's not necessary." I didn't mean it, of course, I was just so frustrated. I feel the tsunami of debt swallowing us up, and I am learning to HATE the insurance companies to depths I never thought possible. I rant, I cry, I throw a righteous tantrum, and slam the door to my bedroom and throw myself on my bed and sob the deep sobs I've stuffed down for all of these weeks. The sobs come up in huge waves and can't be stopped. It all seems so unfair in this moment. I was not ready to deal with the WALL. The Wall of grief, fear, frustration, anger, angst, you name it, I felt it. My poor mother on the other side of the door could only sit on the other side of the door and let me feel what I felt and cry. Helpless, I am sure, but Pandora's box had been opened by LAURA! A dumb girl who "didn't want to jeopardize her job" (deep sarcasm) Go ahead LAURA, hide behind your cloak of protection, but can you sleep tonight? I guess that's why I DON'T work for insurance companies, nor would I ever. A Mother, you refused to help a mother under the words of "I have to protect my job" while I fight to PROTECT MY DAUGHTER and her RIGHTS.

So I hit the wall. I suppose I'll run into the Wall from time to time from now on. Sarah has to call them and get me on the three way so LAURA can save her freakin' job and maybe I can fight to get the insurance company to pay for something they should have paid for without battle. I chanted while I cried, and Rose says that every tear you cry while you chant becomes diamonds. Well, I have one hell of a diamond necklace, one that Marilyn would have envied. I slept for quite a while today, I really needed the rest. I realize I did too much today, but things needed to get done.

I learned a few things today. 1. Don't call three days after surgery to any insurance company. 2. I don't like LAURA, at all. 3. Chanting while crying really feels good.

My daughter's show Modern Family was #1 in its time slot. So I'm happy and grateful for that. I love my mom for making chocolate chip cookies when I really needed them. And really glad I have this blog to unload on. I can go to bed feeling wasted but burden free. I've dumped the last little bit of crap and now I can sleep.

Nite

Love and Light

Melissa

THE BIG PARTY!!!

September 23, 2009 Wednesday

Sorry to have been away from the blog, but the party was huge, and I was a hog and drank all the mojitos. ; P The Surgery was a Gigantic success! The surgeon had to do "Rock, Paper, Scissors" to decide who got to go first, and Dr. Berman won. So my lypoma was the first to go. I'd love to take the surgical report and shove it down the insurance company's throat. Cosmetic my foot!! That horrid lypoma went through muscle and wrapped down into my armpit. EEWW! I know. So Dr. B had to take his time because now nerves were involved. But He got it all and put in a drain because my "third boob" as I called it, was the size of an A cup, and that is a lot of space to leave behind. I'm so happy it's gone, but it really does hurt a lot right now. Then Dr. Axelrod came next and she got Mr. Lumpy and his little dogs, too. No drains, just boo-boo bandages, and very little pain there. What really hurts is the Port. When I was coming out of my drug induced slumber, they asked me to lift my head, and try as I might the pain was too much and I just couldn't lift it. The incision is directly over my collar bone. I feel like I have a broken collar bone, and the port which was placed on the left side over my upper chest hurts almost as much as my incision.

Before I went through all the procedures I had the Mardi Gras Funeral for Mr. Lumpy. As we moved from place to place we played Jazz. The 8am visit to St. Vincent's for the nuclear procedure to locate the sentinel node was the most painful experience of my life!!! I cried out in pain and it was the first time I really cried during a procedure. I wish someone had really explained just how painful that was going to be. I would have been better prepared for it. No amount of Nam moyoho renge koi helped to ease the pain. So I cried and let the pain rush through me, and believe me, it took it's sweet time leaving. Then I had to lay there and be still, while I tried to control the sobbing. Mr. Lumpy's f-you as he became totally aware of his eminent execution. Then up to Dr. Axelrod's office to have not one, not two, but three wires placed. This took a bit of time, and at first was painful because I still had hematomas all over my breasts. But as each wire was placed the old blood was released and the pain was simply No More. So with me wired up and ready to receive radio signals, I was hoping for KISS Fm I was bundled into a car driven by a little old man who had glasses so thick I wondered how he got a license to drive, and drove a town car too big for his size.He must have be his 80's. He was not unlike the bus driver in Harry Potter. But he was very sweet, and I think this is all he does all day long. Drive from the Doctor's office to the hospital all day long, for he knew the way "blind".

We go upstairs and the hospital had it's hand out right away for the co-pay. Least we try to dine and dash...The team of doctors met with us and we all laughed and were very excited to be getting to the demise of Mr. Lumpy. So the OR nurse took Ed and me to a tiny room to discuss the day, and I changed into my Vogue surgery gown, and put on my sexy socks, and my surgical cap. I was a vision with my wires sticking out all over the place. Soon the parade of Doctors, residents, interns and nurses made their way into our tiny room to have me sign a multitude of papers, and explain things I didn't have a chance to remember, and then It was time. I kissed Ed goodbye and headed down the hall toward the door that led to the surgical suite. Once through that door the nurse and I wander around and around a labyrinth of hallways past so many surgical suites. only to come to the very last room on the right before you would head out toward the waiting area. I had to laugh to myself, because, of course, my room would be the furthest from the beginning. I had truly come full circle. I took a deep breath and entered the room and it really was like a big party in there. Full of people prepping the space, the surgical bed the focal centerpiece looking like a big fluffy cloud. I climbed up on the bed and it was so warm and comfy. I said, "Let's get this party started!" The IV went in and I said, "Bring on the Moji...." and the next thing I know I'm having a dream of being in a big house with beautiful French doors that open on a lovely perfectly landscaped yard, and then I hear Ed's voice saying, "Hey there, beautiful." The dream popped into air and I thought, "Oh,right. I'm coming out of surgery." I could hear everyone talking, Mom, Ian, my friend Joe and Ed, the doctors with the usual words of "She's doing fine, it's not uncommon for her to be unresponsive." I so wished Ed hadn't let Ian in to see me like that, I think it freaked him out. I tried so hard to talk to him, but the words wouldn't leave my mouth. I felt sick, and tried to puke, and only a small amount of bile came up. I could hear Ed telling Joe to take mom and Ian home, and then I felt Ian's sweet tears on my face and his voice whispering, "I Love you, Mom." His hand stroking my hair and touching my face, and still, I could not reach out to him, no matter how hard I tried, I was screaming inside, I love you, too! but the words still would not come. Some time must have passed for I felt myself plunge back down into the darkness and dreamless place, and then they were moving me to the room. Still out of it. Sore and sick to my stomach, I felt them move me onto the bed, tell me a bunch of stuff that I couldn't make out, but most likely, "This is the call button, use it to get us to help you with the bathroom."

Hours later, I had to pee, so the nurse came by, got the lovely bed pan under me and there I lay FOREVER! unable to pee, but bursting at the seams. I finally begged to be walked to the bathroom where my pee was the color of the deep blue sea. The gamma dye from 8am and the blue contrast dye used during the surgery was making it's way out of my battered body. I shuffled back to bed and the shivers began from being so still for so long and then getting up to move in an air-conditioned room. The pain at my port site was almost unbearable, but morphine sure hit the spot, and I rested peacefully. The Residents came in around 8am and said I was getting released at 11am. HA! That's all I can say. My mom arrived near 11 am, Ed couldn't stop by before leaving for Albany, full of guilt, and Ian went to school to be met by his History teacher saying, "Don't be sick again." and refused to take his note explaining I had surgery. So now I will have to speak to this man about his lack of compassion, and the effect it has had on my son. At the very least he owes my son a heart felt apology. Ian wasn't cutting class, the school was aware of my surgery. The councilors had said to me,"If he decides at the last minute to be with you, and he doesn't show up on Monday, we will assume just that, and don't worry." There is always one, isn't there? The one you will battle with, the one who lacks mercy and understanding. My hope is that once he hears he will change his tune with my son.

Finally at 2pm we were released from hospital and Linda picked us up and drove us home. Thank God for Linda. Thank you my sweet friend for being there for me. And I will pick out that bra when I'm feeling better. I have such great friends. I'm so lucky. My friend Cathy came by after work and brought flowers. My daughter sent me flowers and a balloon with the sweetest note, Stephen and Barbara sent me lotions, and I just feel so very pampered. Sore to the core, tired to the bone, but oh so very happy that Mr. Lumpy is gone, my lypoma is gone, and the little dogs are gone, too. Now the healing begins, and Sept. 30 I see Dr. Axelrod and Dr. Berman, and then Chapter 3 will begin soon. Radiation and Chemo. The long chapter, the long row to hoe. But the horizon is there growing bigger each day, until I ride off into the sunset of 100% health.

Thanks for supporting me in my journey, and pass it on if you wish. If more people knew, it would be less scary, people would be better informed, and things would change for the better, not just for women with breast cancer, but all people who suffer from cancers.

Going to bed now. I've worn out my own welcome.

Nite!

Love and Light

Melissa

THE BIG DAY!!

September 21, 2009 Monday

Surgery. Today I bid good riddance to Mr. Lumpy and the gang. In one hour the party begins. It will be a New Orleans-style funeral for Mr. Lumpy beginning in the West Village at St. Vincent's Hospital and then the funeral procession will head North East to 34th St & 3rd Ave. Flowers will be placed both left and right (wires to locate the dogs) and the officiating will begin on or about 12:30pm at NYU Medical Center, Tisch Hospital on the 10th floor. There will only be one person drunk, and that will be me. The reception is to follow in the recovery room and there will be shiva over night. The joy stricken Host, Me, will return home to luxuriate and move on after an appropriate amount of time. If you cannot be here for the services, please feel free to imagine yourself there. Today is a P-A-R-T-Y!!! Don't not dread, fear, or anything else negative. Only the positive is welcome today. Envision only the best of all possible outcomes.

I love you all. I fear no Evil, and I have complete and utter faith and joy in today.

Have a Great Day, I know I will!

Love and Light

Melissa

LUMPECTOMY EVE

September 20, 2009 Sunday

So the day before the big day. Mr. Lumpy's last day on Earth. It was a beautiful day. I rose early and joined Rose at SGI Center, and had a really good chant. Then off to Whole Foods for a little oatmeal and coffee and good conversation with new friends. As I walked home I realized how lucky I am. Old friends and new. They all care. All wishing for a positive outcome. All sending prayers and energy of healing. I have a lot of energy, and take my mom and Ian out for Mr. Lumpy's "Last Supper". Then we went to Trader Joe's to stock up on food for the week so my mom doesn't have to schelp up there at all this week. We talk and talk, and laugh and laugh. My mom offers to pay for a cab up and back, and Ian remarks, "But it's only 1/2 a mile!" Funny how we New Yorkers take walking for granted. To us 6th ST to 14 St is a nothing walk. Ian and I walk home easily from all the way up near Lincoln Center, and think nothing of it. My mom, who is car bound while in Phoenix, rightly so, thinks walking to Trader Joe's a huge feat. I joke and tell her, "We can rest along the way, but you are now in Nana Boot Camp, and walk is what we do here. You'll go home and no one will recognize you because you will lose weight and get in shape." Two for the price of one, cancer-free and help my mom get in shape.

My mom made Avocado Soup for dinner and Joe came over for the last minute hug and get together before the surgery. Spirits are running high. Then my sister called, at last. She's known since August 27, the day I found out, and nothing until now. I'm grateful that she called, but I can't help but feel "a little too little, a little too late". She made the wire, but only just made it. Why even call, except to clear a guilty mind. The forever running stream of ill will between sisters. I love her, and I know she loves me, but really...what took her so long to call? and no one can answer to my brother, Lon. Still no word, and I really honestly don't want one. There is nothing he can say to make it better now. He missed the opportunity to mend a bridge. I sent emails, my mom called. that's where he is, stuck in a world of self. I didn't expect him to call, still it would have been a MFO (mandatory family opportunity) moment and appreciated.

So I look to my friends, my dear friends old and new, who have never failed to come through for me, who bolster me up on bad days, and cheer me on to victory. You can't choose your family, but you certainly can choose your friends. I believe I have chosen extremely well, for I am the richest girl in NYC. I have friends across this nation who, from day one, have been there, have prayed, have encouraged, have made this road a lot more smooth. I am so blessed to have you all in my life, and I don't take the walk for granted, I don't take your friendship for granted, and I don't now, nor will I ever take your love for granted. I love you all. You make it possible for me to go on with strength and courage. To fight and to win. Mr. Lumpy you will be history come tomorrow, never to return, never to rob me of anything again.

To bed, to rest, to envision the most miraculous recovery ever!

8 hours and 30 minutes till the rest of my new life.

Nite!

Love and Light

Melissa

TRIALS AND TRIBULATIONS

September 19, 2009 Saturday

Ah! the trials and tribulations of youth. A day spent going to Kung Fu with my son and mom to keep him company because his teacher called and said he was ill but Ian could use the room anyway since it was paid for. A trip to Game Stop so Ian could get me, yes, me the Wii Sports Resort game. A subversive ploy to get the game for himself, and it worked. in a way, for me, because he is so engaged with it, and I love to see Ian happy, and for the moment forgetting about Monday's drama. So we played Wii and as always I got my butt kicked by my son. We had tacos for dinner and I took down some questions to ask last minute. Fielded calls from those wonderful friends and family wishing me luck on Monday. Then my daughter calls, "Could I have an appendicitis?" So after much talking and "House" like questions, we came to the conclusion that it must be a pulled muscle. It is moments like that I wish I lived in LA so I could run over and check her out, make sure she is okay. The idea of something like that happening while I prepare for a very long day of surgery myself makes my stomach twist. Just over 35 hours left before I start down that road of surgery, Radiation, chemo... and unsure of when the town of "Cancer-Free" will appear on the map. I feel like I did when I was a kid and my brothers and sister and I would constantly ask, "ARE WE THERE YET?" This highway doesn't have Rest Areas, no turn-offs or turn-arounds. A straight line forward with only one destination ~ Cancer Free. That is the only place I want to be right now. So....AM I THERE YET?! No Melissa, not yet, but you'll be there soon enough, and when you get there, you will be on time.

Nite!

Love and Light

Melissa

TGIF

September 18, 2009

So Ed came home yesterday, no rehearsal, and this morning he had an audition. It went well. Ed took off soon after and back to work he went. I got mom on the Wii Fit. It felt great to get back to the Wii Fit, so I best enjoy it, for Monday I won't be into it for a while. I ran errands, did the boring mundane things "normal" people do. Ran into one of Sarah's acting teachers from PPAS (both no longer there) He had his adorable baby with him. What a cutie.

It felt so normal today. Nothing special. That was very nice. To feel normal. the normal routine, the normal normal. Mom saved my plants that Mike and Viki sent to me. Knew she would, she has the green thumb, not I. Mom and I went to the grocery and picked up a few things to make dinner and then Peggy called.

So I thank you Peggy for calling my name, you know what I mean. You two are quite possibly the best people in the universe. Your friendship means so much to me.

So all are in bed, but me. I just don't want to go to bed. I'm sleepy, but nope, no bed calling my name. I wonder in the quiet about the D-Day for Mr. Lumpy. I made a Wii person of Mr. Lumpy. Short, fat, red, no hair, wrinkled and ugly with a wart on his chin, beady eyes, and a smirk on his face dressed all in black. I pick him up and shake the living hell out of him. I can't wait to dump his ass in the Wii trash, delete him, adios Mr. Lumpy, and take your papalomas with you.

54 hours to Destruction. The anticipation is making me nuts. Is this what it feels like right before a battle in war? I just want to get it done.

I just wanted to thank everyone who reads this, and for all those who have helped to prop me up and give me strength to face this monster down. You may not think what you say, do, or send means all that much, but you would be wrong. You are the fuel to keep me going. What you say, do, and send mean EVERYTHING! So keep thinking those good thoughts and sending those prayers. I definitely feel them penetrating, making a difference, and giving me courage.

I love you all!!! Truly!

Nite!

Love and Light

Melissa

P.S. this is for Susie and her hubby. Strength = Love. Your love for Mike will get him through the pain and make him strong. Have faith my beautiful cheerleading friend. Cheer him on. You can do this. and to Gina. I love you girl, I'm thinking of you, and so glad we found each other again. YOU inspire me to be great! Baby, Dream Your Dream. Dream that you can do it. xoxox ~ M

A REAL SPA DAY.

September 17, 2009 Thursday

Surprises galore today. First Ed calls me to say, I have the day off, so I'm coming home since I have an audition for a film on Friday. Yipee!!! Good! This will be a good day. I get Ian off to school, look in on Mom where I find her dead to the world, looking as if she hadn't moved from the moment her head hit the pillow. I go in to check email, make coffee, and much to my mistake go to Farmville and my new online aquarium, way too addictive for my own good. When mom gets up we talk and talk, so good to talk. I show her all the pictures I've meant to send but never did, and the next thing you know, Ed is home, and I'm running late to get my hair done for the last time before I lose it all. Mom goes with me while Ed works on his audition. I love Tony! my hair stylist. He is amazing with color and only once a year I allow myself that luxury. A TRUE SPA DAY!!! Relaxing, fun, pleasant. Not like the "Spa Days" of the past month. No needles, no squishing, no weird positions with the outcome a nasty bruise and a scar. We laugh, and gossip about the things you gossip about when one goes to the salon. Celebrities and their issues. Bragging about the kids and what they are up to. Tony supportive and loving, saying don't worry we'll make you look beautiful even when it comes time to say goodbye to the hair. The dye goes on, the wait, the rinsing of the dye, the glorious head massage, and then to the chair to cut the hair. What I thought was a message from Ian turned out to be a message from Dr. Axelrod. OH CRAP! What does that mean? I don't want to check voice mail, but I draw up the nerve from the depleted stores of stoney strength I have left, and check voice mail. Remember a few posts ago when I said, "The difference between a good day and a bad day is the message your radiologist leaves you."? Well, how quickly a GREAT day gets turned into a bad day. I listen to the message, and let out an audible "F*ck" This sucks! I want to cry, break down into gales of weeping. The message was bold and just plain out there, which I totally appreciate, because getting that "Can you call me even if it's after 4pm" Call just plain ol' sucks raw eggs. So Dr. Axelrod leaves this message. "Hi Melissa It's Dr. Axelrod. I was just going over your chart preparing for your surgery and I'm sorry to say this, no I hate to tell you this, but I have to take part of your left breast. That calcification was noted as a papaloma, and although it is benign it is still a papaloma and we must be vigilant. I know this is not great news, but hey, you'll be out, so it's no big deal, really. Call me at ***-***-**** if you can today so we can discuss it. Bye, sorry." Okay, a triple lumpectomy. Is there a special? Buy two get one free? Cuz' I'd be all down for that. After that message the tone changes. Reality broke through the sacred doors of the Salon. It is against code to let reality into a salon while getting your hair done. UNFAIR! I CRY! UNFAIR!!!!

Just when I was coming to terms with the prognosis, the surgery, the disfigurement of my right breast, the left breast intrudes with the proverbial, "It's no fair! No on pays attention to me. I want a lumpectomy, too!" Mr. Lumpy you are an evil bastard! and I'm not afraid to call you what you are. I'm so mad now. Three lumpectomies, a sentinel node removal, lypoma removal, and most likely armpits lymph nodes to boot, and 23 hours to recover before I go home to the insanity of my home. Sore and unable to lift both of my arms. AAAARRRGGGHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Mom and I kiss Tony and the gang bye bye, and head home to drop the bomb on Ed and Ian. Ed knew already, Dr. Axelrod already told him. Ian sat in stunned silence. We'll get through this, but the ka-ching of the cash register is chiming as my surgery bill will no doubt increase from $10,800 to what? $11,000? What does a lump cost? Who gives a f*ck. Whatever. I call Dr. Axelrod, set in my mind of whatever has to be done for the greater good, and deal with the rest later. She seemed more bummed out than I was. I suppose it must be so very difficult to have to call a woman to add more bad news to her already burdened mind, and it made me feel for her. We agreed and I told her not to worry. How's that for weird? I'm good with that because really, how awful would it be if she only did the right breast, I went through all that radiation and chemo and herceptin only to have the papaloma turn into MRS. Lumpy? And need to start all this sh*t all over again?! No. I'm glad she laid it on the line. I'm glad she is the best damn surgeon in NYC and I have her. What doctor does that? Goes through a chart, all the films, everything with a fine toothed comb, searching to make sure she'll get it all, every damn little bit? Dr. Deborah Axelrod, that's who. So bring on the twilight juice and let's get our freak on and party Mr. Lumpy and his trashy papaloma relatives out of me. Bring it! Just get it ALL! the first time.

We headed up to Midtown to have dinner with Gabby and Seymour. Love Them! We had dinner, surprised them with Ed, and enjoyed our meal lightly textured with the reality of the day. It fell easily back into the relaxed, good natured day it was meant to be; the doctor's news rapidly falling behind me into the already set text for Monday. After dinner, we parted from our dear friends and walked over to Times Square to marvel in seeing our daughter, My mom's granddaughter on the big billboard over the Toys-R-Us building and laughed at watching her do her Beyonce dance on the billboard over GMA. That's my girl up there, looking larger than life. My pride eclipsing the very bad part of my day. Life is good, no matter what. My son is now on the Fencing Team at school, my daughter is in what is most likely going to be a HUGE hit television show, and I have my mom here with me, and my hubby is home for a day (the unexpected pleasure).

I sit here in the dark as my son snores quietly away, and the cats romp in their nocturnal way, while I hear my mom prepping for bed, no doubt getting her latest book out for the bedtime read. Ed is most likely already snoozing away, and I'm left to what's left of the day. It's almost Midnight. Sarah has called freaked out by a spider that was huge on her balcony, so we cheered her on as she bravely, as brave as she could have been, sprayed the Raid at it. It jerked and fell to the comforter on the chair outside, twitched and then was dead. Her spider, my Mr. Lumpy. One in the same. Her demon an easy one to face down, I hope I can be as brave facing down Mr. Lumpy. Sarah saves me once again. If she can face down the worst thing in her mind ~ big, really big nasty poisonous looking spiders, then I can do this. I can and I will.

Four days and counting down. 80 hours. Just 80 more hours before the landscape of my body will be changed forever. Carved away. I can do this. For the greater good. For the greater good...of me.

Nite!

Love and Light!

Melissa

NOTHING COMES EASYn

September 16, 2009 Wednesday

Even the best laid plans go awry. So went today. It started like any other morning, well planned out. I clean the house, while my mom heads to the airport in Phoenix, AZ to get on the plane to fly out to NYC. I leave at 3pm to meet the plane at 5pm. Simple, yes? Well, today was the best laid plans go wrong. Don't get me wrong, I had no trouble on my end, I cleaned, I swept, I danced to music blaring. The first time in days I actually felt like getting my boogie on. The laundry ~ done. The bathroom cleaned ~ done. The beds made ~ done. The kitchen cleaned ~ done. The living room ~ done. I sit down to eat some lunch and watch Kendall dodge being caught by Liza, Erica as she prepares for her Dance-A-Thon to raise money for the poor starving children in Africa, and Crazy Annie continuing her evil plot to take over Pine Valley. The phone rings at almost 2pm, and my mom's name comes up on the screen. Wow! that was one hell of a tail wind I think. I answer and my mom says, "Guess where I am?" No clue. "I'm in Phoenix!" The plane was over New Mexico and the pilot came on and reported that there was a problem with an oil filter and that the plane was returning to Phoenix where they would be placed on another plane, and they would start all over. Okayyy. So let me know when the plane is ready to leave, and I'll figure out when to get there. Finally, the plane leaves from Phoenix and is bound for JFK. Due to arrive at 7:35pm. I continue to clean, check the flight status. Now it's 8pm, now it's 8:35pm. My poor mom. Up at 4:30am and traveling all day long. I get to the receiving area at 8:15. The Arrival screen says USAirways flight 12 arrives 8:21pm. 9 o'clock the passengers finally come wearily out, tugging their luggage behind them. Then I saw my mommy dragging a suitcase almost the size of her all 5' of her. Tired from the long day. We found the car service and headed home. Heated a pizza (spinach on whole wheat crust) and finally tucked ourselves into bed around 1am.

It's so good to have my mommy here. I needed that.

Nite!

Love and Light!

Melissa

THE COUNTDOWN BEGINS

September 15, 2009 Tuesday

Day one without Ed, 6 days to surgery. I woke to a horrid headache, Tylenol just hasn't cut it. I can't take Advil, I can't take Excedrin Migraine, too close to the surgery date. I am a good bleeder, so I won't take chances 6 days out. I'm so grumpy because the pain is annoying. I sat on the couch not wanting to do anything. Then Elyssa called and lured me out to sit in the park at Sty-town. I'm glad I did. It was fun to reconnect, and even though it was for a short period of time, it was well worth it. I headed up to MDR to pick up the last of my films for Dr. Axelrod. Got to see the girls behind the desk, and tell them, once again, THANK YOU. I'm serious, this place is the best. They know how to give care, complete care, mind, body, and spirit. This is how it should be done. Then I walked on this beautiful day down to Dr. Axelrod's office, Films in hand, eager to get past the next 6 days. I dropped off the film and headed for home. The headache overwhelming me. I have things to do, but the pain is taking me down.

When I think of surgery I'm nervous but excited at the same time. I want this out of me, this invader, intruder. It's becoming real, and what comes next is only a strange vague thing. The future is set, yet too much is still unknown. I have to work on patience, be present, not too far a head of myself.

I forgot the humor, so here it is. I went for a front closing bra at Paragon Sports. It is confusing at best, because every company has their sizing. I couldn't find my size 36 C. An older woman who must have worked there her entire adult life (meaning forever!) asks me if I need help. I do. So I tell her I'm looking for a 36C bra with a front closure, because I'm having breast surgery. So she starts handing me 38DD's I'm like,

Melissa: "Um...that will be too big. I'm having surgery, it has to be tight."

Salesclerk: "Yes, you will be going to swell, so you will need bigger size."

Melissa: "No, I'll be going down in size, I need it to be tight."

Salesclerk: "Okay, Here, 38D"

Melissa: "Maybe you didn't hear me right, 36 C, C as in Cat, not D as in Dog. 36 C"

Salesclerk: "Okay, I'll call upstairs and have them send down a 38D"

Melissa: "ARRRGGGGHHHH! Why don't you hear what I'm saying? I am a 36 C, alright my left breast is almost a D cup, but I wear a 36 C. I NEED A 36 C. Alright? Just give me what I want, not what you think I need."

So this went on and on. I'd walk away from her, but here she'd come following with front closing bras with dozens of hook and eye closures. I need a zipper, I won't be able to do the hooks and eyes. I finally cave in and let her give me all of these bras. I go to the dressing room, put on the first bra and got so tangled up in it that I couldn't put it on, let alone take it off. I threw it across the room is frustration. So I put on the bra that she swore up, down, left, and right would not fit, would be too small, a MEDIUM a 36A-D CUP and low and behold a perfect fit. Found! At last! So I redress, leave the dressing room and she stops me.

Salesclerk :"the 38D was right, yes?"

Melissa:"No, the Medium was just right."

Oh-oh, here we go again...."Thanks, I'm going now." Come on Ian, let's go before she tackles me and makes me put on the hook and eye bra. I'll never get out it. I laughed at how as well meaning a person she was, she really got in the way of what was supposed to be simple. Now that I've had time to think about it, I think she thought I was getting a breast enhancement. Oh Lawrds. Can you see me with DD's? WTF!???

Nite!

Love and Light

Melissa

A DAY LATE

September 14, 2009 Monday

Sorry to post this so late. The day got away from me, and then I couldn't get the computer from Ian and his homework. Monday was filled with tension. Ed hadn't packed up yet to leave for Albany, Ian was running late, and I didn't feel that good. The squabbling began early, not even Good Morning was said. The boys feeling the weight of the day, I guess. Ian headed off to school, Ed buzzing around getting the list together. Moving the car. Me doing laundry, and packing him up to go. Half way through packing I hit the wall. I so didn't want him to go. Ed's left so many times for months at a time. This is silly, only 6 weeks. Home on Sunday nights, all day Mondays, it's not that bad, but somehow this seems so hard. I had to shake it off. Ed feels guilty enough about going away.

So I turned to my FB, email, and there, from the Organizing for America, a request to call your Senators and Congressmen. Tell them to support President Obama on Health Care Reform. So I did. I spoke with John from Sen. Gillibrand's office and told him my story (in a nutshell of course) and asked if I could give my blog address to the Senator. My goal became clear. I was challenged to contact Michelle Obama, I did. Now I want it to viral, I want it to be read by all of Capitol Hill. My story is just one of millions. I have friends who also have breast cancer, but I also have friends who are suffering with other cancers, fighting the fight, fearing not the prognosis, but the cure; the cost of the cure. How will we make it financially? So many people who struggle with this day in and day out. The original Norma Rae just died fighting for her rights, just as she did so many years ago for better protections in her work place. She did fighting her insurance company for the treatment she needed for her brain cancer. They wouldn't cover it, and it delayed her treatment, and now she is dead because an insurance company whom she paid into with her hard earned money was somehow not good enough. This is madness.

So went to SGI Center to chant. I met a gentleman whose story is amazing. To look at him, one would never think, "What is wrong with this man?" The answer would be "Nothing." But this man is living with 9% kidney function, he is on a waiting list for a kidney. He has to wait for someone to die so he can live. He does dialysis everyday. He is strong, handsome, gentle, and kind. He inspires me. I drew strength from him. His radiant smile and his unending hope, yes, hope. It is the Possibility that keeps him going. So with that, I dwell, once again, in possibility. I must not give in to this cancer and all the complications that will follow from treatment. Where is the victory in that?

Then to return home to find out that Patrick Swayze lost his battle with cancer...such a loss. He showed us all how to fight, fight to the end, and live your life. Live it to its fullest and to its completion. He took a whole lotta love with him. He was a wonderful man, and was the man of many a woman's dreams. Sorry hubbys out there, but he was really hot, sexy, and boy could that boy DANCE!~

The house was quiet last night, no Ed, Ian doing homework. The bed seemed absolutely enormous. Can't be too happy, just realizing how much time is wasted on the trivial.

Nite!

Love and Light

Melissa

A NEW DAY.

September 13, 2009 Sunday

Today was a new day. I woke early, for a Sunday, and headed uptown to SGI to meet Rose to chant. I walked on the nearly deserted streets. A few cars headed uptown and down, and few businesses were open. A beautiful clear morning. Just the right temperature. As always, there was Rose, with a bright smile and welcoming hug. We went in for the service, and within moments I felt so much better. It helps me, it may not be for everyone, but for me, it helps. It is a way to disconnect from the heaviness of my world. I find I go to a higher place and the energy is so strong there. The people there so welcoming and kind. We left feeling happy and ready to start the day, and I reflected on yesterday and how crazy I had let myself become over something so out of control. It's money. The bottom line. It will work out like it always does, somehow. A group of us had a little breakfast at Whole Foods, shared our experiences, laughed, pondered, and most of all enjoyed our company. The sky was blue and tufted with white billowy clouds and the sun shone through them at just the right angle. It shifted my mood and the rest of the day was happy.

Met Ed and Seymour outside Starbucks and joked and got serious, but not too serious. Headed home did some FB time, got ready to go to Staten Island to visit Mike and Viki. I had to get away from my house today. It had to happen. I was feeling so trapped. I know that when we go to Mike and Viki's it will always be filled with lots of laughter. So we laughed, and Ed and Mike and Steve vanished to the basement to watch the Bears game. That in itself is a whole 'nother story. Can't touch that. So as Viki and I talked while Ian pretended to do homework, I said I'd love to invite Michelle Obama to read my blog. Well, don't say something like that around Viki. Next thing we know, Viki has Michelle Obama's White House site up and I'm inviting her to join my blog. Who knows? It would be the thrill of a lifetime to have her read my blog. Please Michelle, please read my blog.

It made me suddenly hunger to be heard. We HAVE to lift our voices if we want change, and we must do it respectfully. So not unlike a lottery ticket, I have sent my message of support for Health Care Reform, and an invitation to be heard from by me, the little gal, who has the big heart and the tapped out pocket book, but not willing to quit. To fight, not just for me, but for millions of people just like me. President Obama don't abandon us now. We believe in you.

Tomorrow is another day to greet with hope. I will do that over and over again.

Nite!

Love and Light

Melissa

INSURANCE SHELL SHOCK!

September 12, 2009 Saturday

Today I met the Dragon, my financial dragon. It's called Excelling your Medical expenses. I do this every year, and because I am always so healthy, and we usually don't have to worry about insurance because my hubby is just the most talented guy out there. He has always qualified for insurance, but this year's excel spread sheet took my breath away. Made me want to puke, and then made me want to march to Washington and shove every dang piece of medical EOB and bill for COBRA, every deductible, co-pay, out of pocket expense, yada yada yada right up the noses of the Mean-spirited, Insurance lobby loving, out-of-touch Republicans who think Public Option will f*ck up good hard working American citizens. You know the kind, the ones who want you to believe that Insurance companies don't dictate to you as to whom you can see. The ones who think they know better than a doctor who actually went to school, got in major debt, did tireless hours as Interns and Residents and had to prove themselves over and over again. Yea, those jerks who make billions of dollars. Oh God, I'm on a rant. Stop me now before I drive right off the cliff!

Any way....I walked away, I am calmer now. Being pissed off doesn't fix things. Worrying about money won't make the bills go away. I have to adopt the attitude I had so many years ago when the bills were piling up on us when Sarah was a baby and our second home was the Ronald McDonald House. We would laugh hard; sick laughter that would rack our lungs, make us cry, hurt our tummies, and make us dizzy. Fine! charge us. Try to get blood out of a stone. Every creditor had to stand in my bread line as I doled out $5 a month to each and everyone of them, with the exception of the Number 1 bill. They got $20 a month until it was paid off. Then the next in line got the $20 and so forth and so on. It took years, but we got it paid down. I remember that time, and it seems peculiar that we find ourselves back in this pickle now that Sarah has pretty much flown the coop.

Life moves in cycles. For two years, Ed couldn't get arrested for stage work (our bread and butter), so we lost AEA insurance, we were lucky enough for Ed to have an ad running, so that saved us and we got SAG insurance (for a year), but a year is 12 months and Ed was out of work for 24 months. We lost SAG insurance, went COBRA and if not for the support of our wonderfully awesome Union at the Actors Fund, well, I don't know what we would have done. We had our little jobs here and there to stay afloat, but not enough to cover $735 a month. We used up our savings, the economy sucked. Everyone who found out Ed was out of work in the industry said the same thing, "Boy, If Ed can't find work, the economy must be really bad!"

So we moved into the "work cycle" this year as President Obama took office. Our fortunes seemingly changing. Ed had the honor of working at The Ford's Theater in The Heavens Are Hung In Black and got to perform for Sen. Harry Reid. Sen. Reid took them on a private tour of the Senate. Very exciting and Ed said he never felt more patriotic in his life. He was out of town, but we had good money coming in. Then he came home for a little bit of time and left again for Pittsburgh where he starred in Harry's Friendly Service at Pittsburgh Public. We actually began to feel as if we could breathe. Our savings were returning. Bills were paid without robbing Peter to pay Paul. Ed was out of town, but we are used to that. Then the unthinkable, Mr. Lumpy. Remember when you were kids and you would go swimming and you'd start to horse around and there was always that one kid, the bully, who would take things too far? He'd dunk you, you'd come up laughing only to be plunged down again and held there without enough air, gulping in water, and you'd panic and finally the bully would let you up just long enough to gasp and down you'd go again. Well, that is Mr. Lumpy. Savings dwindling faster than ever, Ed has to work out of town, he can't be here to help me recover. He won't be here to hold my hand, hold my head. That dubious honor goes to my mom. In some ways Ed is lucky, he won't see the ugliness of the aftermath for 6 weeks, only on the days off. I don't mean to be down trodden, but this is where I am right now. Sour grapes. It's hard to be Miss Mary Sunshine all the time. So please let me feel this anguish without judgement. It's not a sign of weakness on my part, actually it's a sign of strength. I'm not denying anything. I promise to find the joy in tomorrow. I just need to get away from the paperwork. Congress needs to pass the Health Reform Bill yesterday. And the ignorant people of our Country need to quit listening to bigots and nut jobs who fill the airways with unchecked "facts". The truth lies somewhere between the sheets. I'm not saying that the Left is right and the Right is wrong; no, somewhere in the middle is the truth, the right thing, the MORAL thing, the HUMAN thing. Congress is forgetting why they were sent there by us. They were elected to protect us from the evils of this world. Not to go to bed with corporate lobbyists and line their pockets with gold, and have the most amazing health insurance policy in the country, for LIFE. Even after they are no longer a member of Congress. Dems and Reps, they both have this, why can't we? WE pay taxes. What ever happened to "Of the People, By the People, For the People"

Nite!

Love and Light

Melissa

WINNING DAY

September 11, 2009 Friday

Eight years ago it was a beautiful blue day. I remarked what a beautiful day it was as I returned home from dropping the kids off at school. Ian to P.S. 19 and Sarah up to PPAS. Ed was in Kansas City doing The Philadelphia Story at Missouri Rep, so I was the theatre widow, again. I got home and went straight to the routine. Keys in the bowl, click on GMA, turn on the kettle for coffee, and hit the bathroom...the routine disrupted by the highly agitated voices of Charlie and Diane on GMA. I wandered back into the living room curious to what was going on. At first, I couldn't quite figure out or perhaps it simply wasn't computing, what the picture I was looking at actually was. I saw a business building with a gaping hole flames blazing away, smoke pouring from the hole. Then Charlie said, "Again, the World Trade Tower has been struck by a plane". I immediately grabbed my cell phone and called Ed. "Wake up! Turn on CNN. Some idiot just flew his plane into the World Trade Center." Ed groggily turned on the tv as I scrambled atop the radiator to look out the window facing the WTC. I could see the flames and smoke, and as we spoke I saw it, another plane flying low, and I asked Ed do you see that? why is that plane flying so close to the...and then OH MY GOD! OH MY GOD! IT FLEW INTO THE BUILDING! OH MY GOD! Ed screaming at the same time, WHAT WAS THAT? WAS THERE AN EXPLOSION? WHAT HAPPENED? TALK TO ME!! It was in that moment it wasn't some "idiot" with a small plane or a wind shear or a traffic control error, we were under attack and A LOT of people were going to be dead. Then my phone in the house began ringing off the hook, my call waiting beeping beeping beeping. I went to the roof of my building to get a better view, and what I saw was like something out of an Action Movie. A surreal picture of WTC buildings ripped open, flames everywhere, smoke choking the perfectly beautiful BLUE sky. I called my friend Cathy and we decided to check on Ian, Alex, and Melissa. I called PPAS but couldn't get through. So I called Guy and Peggy and asked if they could pick up Sarah and I'd get to them when I could, but Guy told me he already tried and was refused. So we took our portable radio to listen to 1010. We went to Melissa's school first and the nuns said, "Locked down, no one leaves and no one comes in." So we went to P.S. 19 to get the boys. We plucked our boys and headed home, and that's when we heard that the first tower had collapsed. Stunned, shocked, undone we climbed the steps to 52 E. 7th St to witness the impossible. As we climbed up the five floors I explained to the boys that something bad had happened, but not to be afraid. I opened the door to the roof, and as we stepped out I said, "Look, see Ian one of the Towers fell down' and with that the 2nd tower made it's slow decent into the smoke, ash, and flames. An eerily beautiful waterfall of glass shimmering in the sunshine against a boiling dark grey cloud of smoke. The huge antenna atop of the building slowly sank to its grave, swallowed up and never to be seen again. Knocked to the ground by the magnitude of what I just witnessed, my soul rendered apart for the loss of life, the worry for friends we have who worked there. I turned and saw our minister from next door standing on the roof looking on in astonishment. No one had words, how could we? Carl, a neighbor saying over and over again "I should have been there, right where the hole is, I over slept. What does that mean?" Then Ian, with the wisdom only a child can own, said, "Don't be sad, Momma, they're all angels now. Don't you see them going up?" And sure enough, there in the midst of chaos and choking smoke, somehow a beam of sunlight broke through it all making a kind of stairway to Heaven. Only the 6 year old child could recognize it for what it was.

I gave Ian to Cathy and headed to my apartment to find the documents: Birth certificate, Wedding certificate, bills with my name and address, bank statements with Sarah's name and address. I strapped a scooter on my back, grabbed the other one, tied a bandanna over my nose and raced uptown to get my daughter before the City got completely locked down and I couldn't get to her. I had visions of Sarah on one side of 42nd St and Me on the other side, not being able to reach each other. As I reached the Bowery and 7th St. the light changed so I stopped and saw the people, so many of them walking up the Bowery, covered from head to toe in dust. Like Zombies they moved, shocked with eyes unfocused, and then a van driving quickly up the Ave. billowing dust behind it. The van came to a halt as the light changed and as it pitched the dust landed at my feet in a kind of a splat, and I thought, "Oh my God, there are people in that dust, just tiny pieces of DNA right there." So I respectfully stepped around it and said a prayer. As I moved Northwest toward the school it felt like a film set, I kept waiting for the A.D. to call, "Cut! Back to One!" It never happened. Just one long shot. I arrived at the school to contained confusion. Children asking me if I had seen their mom or dad. I only knew a few kids, it was Sarah's first year there. I felt so bad for them. None of the cell phones worked, panic at not knowing exactly what was going on. I finally was given Sarah and as we opened the scooter Sarah broke the heaviness of the day. "MOM! You forgot my helmet. I'm going to get a ticket!" Not today, sweetie, not today.

The smell lasted for what seemed like forever. Months. It still feels like yesterday. It's hard to believe 8 years have passed. Life moved on and yet it didn't. For New Yorkers, somehow, it never will.

So today was opposite day, the weather, that is. Cold, rainy, windy, the Heavens still cry for the loss of life in such a senseless way, and the names were read again as they always are, the site slowly creeping along to renewal. A Phoenix waiting to burst forth. I left the house feeling down and a bit guilty that I walked away from the reading of the names, but I had to get my bloods done for surgery. I arrived to picked up my Rx for blood work, but it wasn't ready. That's okay, I had some questions, so I speak with Gillian, one of the Nurse Practitioners. My breast cancer is HER2+. An aggressive form. It's a gene that over expresses itself making it very easy to multiply cancer cells quickly. I have to laugh, how ironic. Over express? That explains all those moments in my life that I over reacted. I wasn't over reacting, I was "over expressing" It's genetic, I was programmed to be that way. See I wasn't nuts, just genetically programmed to go nuts. (this gene has nothing to do with mood, by the way ; P) So we discussed lumpectomy vs. mastectomy, and Gillian was able to talk me down from the crazy "Over expressing" idea of just removing both. I realized I had to go get Ian soon, so we started to get the Rx filled out when the results of the MRI biopsy from Wednesday came in. The tiny spot found on 8/28's MRI was negative. No breast cancer. Pampaloma, with some irregularity, possibly precancerous. So just to be clear, I DO have breast cancer, Mr. Lumpy. But the baby spot Mr. Lumpy undoubtedly sent out will not get the chance to morph into Mrs. Lumpy. It's great news! I'll have a double Lumpectomy and my breast will be much smaller, but won't be as big a surgery as we thought it might be. Dr. Axelrod arrived at that moment and got the news. We all had a joyous moment. I headed down to get bloods drawn, and then off to meet Ian for his callback (which kicked Butt), and from there home to sit in a pool of happiness. While the rest of New York and beyond remember the anniversary of 9/11/01. I don't feel guilty, sad for the loss of live and lives changed forever, but too happy for me. Selfish? No. I've earned this happiness.

And now I know why I went to DSW last night, and why I didn't win a single thing there. I had to lose the trivial to win the best prize of all. The saving of most of my breast. All those b*tch*s can keep their shoes, I wouldn't trade with them for anything. I'll keep my worn out shoes, and be happy for the day. I have had good news today. And that is worth everything.

Sorry for the long post, but I had to share the story, because we must never forget. Like a stone in a calm lake, the ripples continue to affect everything in its path. So remember that what you do or say is like a stone thrown, it can't be taken back and when it's said in hate its affects will last. Hug your family, let things go, they don't really mean that much in the bigger scope of your life. Become a better person. Random acts of kindness are contagious, and your life will have meaning. True meaning.

Nite!

Love and Light

Melissa

Shoes

September 10, 2009 Thursday

I was really looking forward to tonight. It's fashion week here in NYC and DSW was having a party, and every half hour they gave away a free pair of shoes worth up to $200. I HAD to go. So I trekked up there at 6ish and put my name in the bowl and every half hour, I waited, with baited breath, willing my name to be drawn. No, not meant to be. I thought, "That's okay, I'll have my name drawn at 10pm when the Grand prize is drawn (12 Pairs of shoes in a year ~ value $2400 and 12 DSW gift cards ~ value $1200) Ed came up to support me in the last half hour. The Gift Cards name is drawn. "Okay, Melissa....something or other" ARGGHHH!!! So close, maybe she'll share the cards, no don't ask. Then after several names drawn with no squeal of delight from the crowd the final name is awarded the Grand Prize. Not me. Normally I wouldn't have even gone, but now I feel, "Nothing ventured, nothing gained" It was a long night of wandering the aisles at DSW and realizing "I'm not a kid anymore" I felt a bit stupid thinking that I even had a chance against all the chic New York fashionista's. If I had won, those women would have killed me, for I planned on buying a pair of sneakers and a comfy pair of Merrel shearling lined clogs. No ridiculously high heeled sandal boots or trendy torture devices, just sensible shoes. I guess it's best to have not had my name drawn; I might have caused a lynching ~ of me.

Earlier today, Ed headed uptown to do the tests to clear him for kidney donation, so he was gone all day. Ian was off to school, and I was left to my own devices (for a change) And just like the DSW contest, I was sensible. I did payroll entries, called doctors, spoke with guidance counselors for Ian, researched the chemo drugs, printed a glossary of terms for breast cancer and treatment. Had a wonderfully random call from someone referred to me for help in prepping her daughter for a Performing Arts High School audition. Speaking to the CPA to find out what I needed to get to him before I go into surgery. I was so busy today, that I had to turn my phone off for 20 minutes just to get a lunch break. That was boring too, turkey bologna, don't ask me why, it just sounded good.

So I got A LOT done, although it doesn't look like it on the surface.

It's looking like a 9/21 surgery date is set, still don't know the type of procedure until the MRI biopsy comes back, but will know that soon. I have begun Chapter Two. Tomorrow I have bloodwork done in preparation for the surgery. My brother, my wonderful Brother, Bryan, sent me the flight itinerary for my Mom to come out. The course is set. My foot has stepped on the path. There is no turning back. Life is about to get really real, and no number of shoes, stupid shoes will make it feel better. WELL....maybe the Merrells, cuz they really felt good. Oh well, there's always Christmas.

Sometimes you just have to do something totally stupid to bring you back from the brink.

Nite!

Love and Light

Melissa

The End of Chapter One

September 9, 2009 Wednesday

Well, today was the end of Chapter One in my journey through breast cancer to wellness. Got the results of my PET Scan, but not the PEM Scan yet...so here goes....

It never ceases to amaze me that something unrelated will always come forward in a test. It appears that I also have "Hashimoto's thyroiditis, or in other words, Hypo-thyroidism. A condition that explains why I'm tired a lot, feel sad for no reason, can't lose weight no matter what I do or eat, and also the possible reason I have/had heavy menstrual cycles (sorry guys, it's a girl thing). So I'll have to hold that thought for now until I get through the whole breast cancer thing. I also have tendonitis in the right hip. Yep, knew it was something. Also have some bone loss in C6 and C7 ~ Duh! That explains my between the shoulder blades pain. I always thought it was the Knife in my back by my enemies. My neck, "Ol' Sparky", yes, I enjoy giving names to my physical problems. Get over it. Ol' Sparky has been an old frenemy for years. Other than that, I'm really healthy! Doesn't sound like it, but I am, really.

I had my MRI breast biopsy this morning and it went really well. I know I'm always singing the praises of MDR here in NYC, but seriously, they deserve the praise. I have never known a group to be so full of love and compassion. A tech held my hand and gently rubbed my back during the procedure. Honestly! who does that? MDR DOES! We laughed we hugged, we hoped to never see each other again for a while...I will miss them so much. Go get your mammograms there. You will not be let down. Dr Scheer is the best. She doesn't let a single thing slide and it has made all the difference.

I don't mean to be down, so don't take it that way, but the spot (Lumpy, Jr.) was there, again, so it can't be ignored, and the biopsy was taken which was done in one attempt. Gotta love that! But the chances that it is not cancer, are slim to next to none. So I may be speaking too soon, and no one would love it better if I were wrong, but I'm thinking it is a spread, so I'll have to say goodbye to the whole right breast. Don't be sad! I'm not. It's just good to know that the decision has pretty much been taken out of my hands. The discussion that remains then, is should both come off? I just want to be well, so I'm okay with it. This way I avoid radiation, and only have to deal with chemo. One less thing = good.

I met my shoulder surgeon today and it looks good for my lypoma as far as being able to get it out without complications. So we discussed all the highs and lows of the surgery, risks, what ifs, so on, and then talked about the surgery date. so it's looking like 9/21, Monday. I just have to confirm this tomorrow morning with Dr. Axelrod's scheduler.

Next Chapter will begin anon. I have to get my mom here from AZ and Ed off to Albany. Do all the pre-surgical tests, EKG, Chest xray, blood work up. Then do my power of attorney, medical proxy, living will, etc. all while trying to do the paperwork for our house, payroll, tax stuff, help with homework, and oh yeah, live my life!

Surgery is scary but not too much, the idea of getting rid of the cancer is such an awesome idea, that I can't wait to get it done. It is a positive in my life, a move in the right direction, a way to my ideal health. I still need to work on patience, I would do this tomorrow if given the chance. I'm chomping at the bit.

I look to the future with great hope. I watched President Obama speak to Congress tonight and cried full of joy and hope. The idea of no set lifetime limits for someone like my daughter who will reach lifetime well before she is my age now, thrills me to no end. She didn't ask for her problems, anymore than I asked to get cancer, nor anyone else with life threatening disease. So why should there be a limit on the amount of care you receive? I hope that Congress isn't just blowing smoke, and they are really ready to sit down, quit throwing sand at each other and pass a bill that helps US! The people, the young the old, the rich the poor, and tells the Insurance companies to quit squeezing the last drop of blood from our bank accounts.

I live for today, and today was good enough.

Nite!

Love and Light

Melissa

MRI Eve

September 8, 2009 Tuesday

Okay, so I need to sleep, but I can't. Oddly nervous about the morning and the impending MRI Biopsy. I've had time away from the trauma of all the biopsies and tests, and I'm not ready to go back to work, so to say. So, ironically, as my son heads off for his first day of High School and is eager to meet new kids, teachers, and dive into learning, I am the reluctant school child who will most likely be dragging my heels to the MRI machine. The thought of yet another biopsy needle puncturing my Right breast, AGAIN, is not only daunting; it's annoying. What did my right boob do to deserve this, poor little thing.

Today was fun to be back to what I know, encouraging my kids as they prepared for auditions. Both did well today, and so I'm very happy. Ian with a callback, and Sarah feeling excellent about her audition for Alex Payne's new film. Come on Alex, hire my kid, I want to visit her in Hawaii. I'm not afraid to say it out loud, I want her to get this for purely selfish reasons. I know she doesn't need me there, nor does she really want me there. What 18 year old girl would want Mommy lurking on the beach while she flirts with the cute surfer boys? But I'd find a reason to go. Something, something...I know, there is new research that shows that moms who go to Hawaii when they have breast cancer helps to reduce the size of the tumor, and eases their mental stress. It ought to be covered by insurance, Right? ~ Look, one can dream.

Anyway, I'm hoping to get a good night's sleep, free from invasions of the troubled mind.

Wish me luck, and envision a right breast with NOTHING to biopsy. Only Mr. Lumpy, grumpy Lumpy. Sitting there, saying Crap! She won't let me have any fun. All I can say is, "It's very impolite to move into some nice woman's breast without her permission. Bad form! very bad form!"

Nite.

Melissa

Labor Day

September 7, 2009 Monday

Well, It's Labor Day. 6:30 in the morning and I can't sleep. The thoughts invading my sleep. How are we going to pay for this? Will I have one of those "drive-thru" surgeries? Can I handle the chemo? What will I look like with no hair? Will I puke all the time? On and on, so I had to wake up and get away from it. It's so quiet here, only the kitties romping and chasing each other after their morning meal. The drone of the television in the background. Traffic heads down the Avenue and the sun is rising. Don't feel sad for me, I'm not sad, just full of questions that have to be pondered. I'm not ready to ask the real question...What will my chest look like? Ugh.

It brought back a memory from my days at Dundee Church Camp. I can't remember the year, probably 7th grade, but I was sitting at the big round table with all of my friends, we were chattering away, I was drinking Milk. And one of the prettiest girls in camp, Laura (can't remember her last name) started laughing and pointed at me and said, "Drink Milk!" I was like, HuH? It was the way I was holding my milk glass, sitting sideways on my chair, my elbow perched on the back of the seat, glass held high as if I were at a cocktail party, and my breasts thrust forward, small as they were, I was trying hard to impress. It became the running joke between us girls. Drink milk we would squeal in passing and it always induced gales of laughter. I've enjoyed these "girls" for a long time. My Grandmother always told me much to my mother's chagrin that if you have it flaunt it. So I did. Often. My favorite place on earth? Victoria's Secret. In my twenties, I would spend much of my paycheck at VS. As a mom, I went practical at VS. When Sarah began to bud, there we were at VS. The pretty bra and panties, my secret weakness. There you all know now, I have an addiction to VS. What will it be like now.? I have been wearing these old sports bras now for two weeks, I never liked them, but now they have become my prison sentence.

I have to make a decision. Lumpectomy or Mastectomy. That is unless my MRI biopsy comes back positive. If that is the case, the decision will be made for me. Mastectomy. Then the decision becomes, single or double? Will insurance pay for reconstruction? It's my decision, I have to make it. It's a little like playing 21. You are on the bubble, your close to 21, but not enough to win, and you know it. So do you fold, or do you do the bold thing and gamble away all of your money and hope you can beat the House. A high stakes game, I can't bluff, I have to decide.

I was able to ignore this for two days. Joke it away. Ian and I went for lunch with friends on Saturday. Mothers and children. Hamburgers and shakes. A walk through Union Square's artists. A beautiful day, warm, not too hot, just right. We sat on the benches in the park and enjoyed each other's company. There were people there with signs reading "Free HUGS" So I took advantage of the hugs and then asked THEM if they felt better, and they laughed. So many people just walking past them, not taking advantage of the 'Free Hugs' Why? To hug is to feel better. They did, they were happy that someone actually took them seriously. We hugged tight. Random strangers. I started a hug fest, because Ian, Harley, and Bobbie all followed suit. Had I not started it, I doubt it would have happened. We might have commented how funny and cute, but would have moved on. Random hugs, for no reason = GOOD. Would I have done that had I not had the diagnosis of cancer? Probably not, I'd like to think I would have taken advantage, but I have to be honest, no probably not, unless I knew one of them. Thanks my mystery Huggers. Where ever you are. You made my day. We wandered home to show off Ed's DYI skills. My bathroom awesome, my balcony coming together quickly. My plant arrangement still alive. That in itself is a miracle.

Sunday, Sally and Pentii came down from NH to get the bed Ed built back when Sarah was 3. A huge hulking captain's bed with tons of storage. Now all that "storage" is stacked neatly in brown bags under Ian's Loft bed. Bags of youth. Stuffed toys from Beanie Babies to the entire collection of Winnie the Pooh. Baby dolls and Bionicles. Baby and Toddler clothing too precious to let go. Another question invades the mind. What do I do with all that stuff? Is it really time to let go of it? So there it sits, patiently waiting for me to make up my mind. We go for a late lunch and then head up to move the bed to the truck waiting on 6th St. We finally got the behemoth loaded and sent the bed to exile in Athol, MA to live out its remaining years at the Lake House were I'm sure it will be better appreciated. We settled in to enjoy our living room, without the bed (which had been moved there days before). Talked with friends on the phone who cheered me on, and then I went to bed. A great day all in all. Got the kid's room cleaned up (it was a huge mess), got rid of the captains bed, got to see Sally and Pentii, good day.

So, today, I'm hoping that we can get down to Battery City Park. Take a walk, see a movie. Wednesday's MRI biopsy lurks. My breasts are still sore from the PEM Scan, especially the left side. Both funky multi-colored bruises remind me of the past two weeks struggle. I find myself rolling my shoulders in to Protect? Hide? my breasts? A long way from the teenage girl who so proudly thrust out her A cup breasts trying so hard to make them look fuller, so the boys would drool over her the way they did with Laura, the prettiest girl in camp. "We must, We must. WE must develop our bust. The bigger the better, the tighter the sweater, the boys depend on us."

Happy Labor Day to every person who works hard for a living and makes less than their worth. To Mother's everywhere. Our second Mother's Day. WE are the ultimate Laborers.

Love and Light!

xoxox

Melissa

TGIF

September 4, 2009 Friday

T.G.I.F. I had my MRI of my shoulder today. The least annoying of all the tests. I did have my shoulder all trussed up like a Turkey though. But I was a good girl, I didn't move so the session was shorter than the 45 minutes. Only 25 and I was done for the Labor Day Weekend. This is my new job. The hours are unpredictable, I have many bosses, and the pay is lousy! I can't believe I pay to work. Jeez~!

Ed is busy working around the house trying like mad to get everything in order before he leaves for Albany. Ian is cramming in the last minute days with his friends before school starts, and I have enrolled in the School of Survival. I am reading everything I can to understand what I can. Writing down questions to ask the doctors is my number 1 priority now. Number 1. Is this an outpatient procedure? Will I be out of the hospital within 24 hours!? I just read an article in the October 2009 issue of O magazine. I can't believe women have to check out of the hospital after having both breasts removed within 24 hours because the Insurance Companies value us so little. I wonder what their mothers think of those MEN in their expensive suits, driving their expensive cars, making decisions on how to hoard the money that hard working citizens give them to supposedly insure they will be taken care of. This makes me so hopping mad. You all know that if a man had to have his balls removed he'd get to stay for a week and get a massage everyday. Women are devalued. We are last in line for research, the studies are set up for men, not women. We carried our children for nine months, nursed them, cleaned them, feed them, clothed them, and gave up so much so they could have more. Then how is it these men, because let's face it, the majority of the decision makers at Insurance Companies are men, say, "Women can and should go home after losing their breasts within 24 hours." Okay. I'm on my high horse tonight. But really, people complain about Public Option and fear of having their "choices" taken away? I think we already don't get a say, and the doctors who know best are dictated to by "suits" who know NOTHING about medicine nor healing.

Things have to change, we deserve some respect, we deserve to stay in the hospital until the doctors say we can go home. Going home after having a baby within 24 hours is one thing. Major medical surgery.....ummm....jeez....

Anyway. Just soap boxing. I'm looking forward to a great weekend. Lunch with friends, perhaps Battery Park to go to the New Amsterdam Festival and pretending for the weekend that all is well.

Happy Labor Day Weekend, be sure to thank those who work hard for little money.

Nite!

Melissa

Good Day vs. Bad Day

September 3, 2009 Thursday

The difference between a Good Day and a Bad Day? The voicemail message from your radiology doctor. Today was a Good Day. My Stereotactic biopsy for my left breast came in and it was negative. No cancer on the left side. Made my day. No, 'Call me, I have your results.' or 'No matter what time it is even if you have to call my cell phone, we must speak today.' Only "Just wanted you to go into the weekend with good news. The left side is benign. Have a great weekend."

I had such a great day today. That news was so very welcome. Then I got a beautiful arrangement from Viki, Mike, Juli, and Matt. It is wonderful. It's out on the balcony, and looks terrific out there. I only hope I can keep it going until my mom gets here, the woman who truly has a green thumb, unlike my black thumb. Thank you so much. Then I opened a card from my friends Julie and David, you know how to make me smile. Then another from John and Bonnie. A singing card that warmed my heart. I went off to the Soka Gkkai International Center, and met Rose where I tried to keep up with the chanting. I'm a beginner and I can't believe how fast Nam-myoho-renge-kyo can be chanted. I'll get there, but I think I belong in the beginner's class. lol After the meeting, Rose took me to the bookstore at the center and gave me a set of prayer beads. What a lovely gift. Thank you Rosie. I picked a green set or rather they seemed to pick me. I feel great everyone, and I know, I know there will be many days I won't, there will be many days I'll want to give up, but I'm going to focus really hard on not having many. Ideally, I'd like to say I had one really bad day, the first day of diagnosis, and the rest never came close.

Tomorrow I have the MRI of my shoulder for Dr. Berman, and the rest of the weekend is mine to enjoy. I look forward to this weekend. It is the second to last weekend I have with Ed before he heads off to Albany to begin work on The Seafarer at Cap Rep for six weeks.

It's funny, I've spent all of Sarah's 18 years of life prepared for the "Left Shoe" to fall; fall on Sarah, not me. Now, that shoe has fallen on my head. Unprepared, dazed and confused, hurt, feeling betrayed by the Universe, I've risen to the occasion. It's odd for me to take care of me, and yet, it feels good to care about me and only me. I'm finding my family can and will pick up the slack, I guess I never gave them the opportunity nor did I make them. I can't believe how easy it is. I thought if I did that nothing would get done. What a fool I was. I'm so proud of my family and how strong everyone is. I guess I've done okay. We are all strong, I don't have to be strong for everyone, I just forgot to be strong for me.

Have a great nite!

Melissa