Adventures In Green Juice - Part 1

Every morning I use this...

to make this...

It is oh so tasty...

and good for me...


BUT.


That's a lot of produce and a lot of work for a small glass of juice....

and produce is expensive...

especially organic produce.


SO.


When I have one of those days I so frequently have...

you know, one of those days...

a day where I know why I wear the self-imposed label of super klutz.

It's days like these when I sometimes find myself crying a river...

A green river...

Don't You Just Hate It When...

...you feel stupid?

I'm not sure it happens to everyone. But it happens to me.

Often.

Too often.

Today I share Stupid Moment #1:

Obviously I'm not the multi-tasker I once was. During a recent early morning phone conversation with a friend, I was attempting to gather the trash on my way out the door for work, all the while picking up random this and that, stuffing it here and there.

With my house on the market, I do my best to keep things orderly should I get a much awaited phone call stating my house will be shown.

A little side note: I have no idea why I bother. The only showings have been on days when I was running so late I left the house in complete disarray. Maybe this should be my new approach.

Messy house equals visits from potential buyers???

Then again, that may be why potential buyers have not potentially bought. 

So...back to my story. I'm always running late and this day was no exception. Picture me scrambling about the house jabbering away. One last look around assured me the house would pass muster but there was one problem.

Something was missing.

The one thing I cannot get through any day without. It is imperative to my survival. In other words...my life depended on finding it.

I frantically began retracing my steps in search of said important object. I began digging through drawers and closets, flinging about all the this and that I had just stashed here and there.

When it appeared I wouldn't find this thing as vital to my existence as oxygen, I interrupted the conversation to make this most panicked statement...

"Hold on! I have to go! I'm late for work and I can't seem to find my phone!!!"

I'm thinking I need to learn to be happy feeling stupid. Looks like the "stupids" are here to stay.

Doing a Drive By

Seeing as life is sucking up all my time, I thought it best to stop in with a quick hello rather than wait for time to write a proper post. Life has become the whirlwind it once was and I'm doing my best impersonation of a sprinter in my efforts to keep up. That is NOT a complaint! Life is more than good! Here are but a few of my latest reasons to shout Woo Hoo!:

• The writer/publisher LOVED (her emphasis, not mine) the photos so I'm working hard at improving my photography skills. So excited! So, so excited!

• I'm working out again. Although I worked out throughout the majority of my treatments, I had to tone things down a bit. At the end of radiation, I hit a wall and my energy was gone. Zapped. Drained. My gas tank was on empty. I have never felt so helpless in my life. It has taken months to reclaim a "pep in my step" but I'm getting there. I worked out 3 times this week...at the same level I worked prior to my diagnosis...AND...I didn't immediately fall in the bed and stay there for 3 days! YAY!

• The clinical trial at Duke is a no-go. There were complications with registration prior to the trial closing. Everyone has been concerned I would be upset. But I'm not. I simply see it as God closing the door. He is SO good to do things like that!

• I'm working longer hours. While that may not sound like something to celebrate, for a work-a-holic like me...it is definitely a good thing. Those 40 hour work weeks feel much better when you add another hour or two... or three or four... here and there.

• I'm finally getting my scrapping groove on! After my time on various design teams ended, I suffered major burn-out. Try as I might to scrap, I just couldn't find my mojo. Lately I've been dreaming of layout ideas... of paint and paper and scissors..Oh My!

• My social life is back in full swing! Time with friends, friends and more friends! I've even gone on a few dates. Yes. Yes. There could be possible future posts coming on this subject. ;-)

Although that doesn't cover everything, it covers most things....lots and lots to be thankful for!

So tell me, what are you celebrating or most thankful for today?

Photography 101

Last night I had the opportunity to use my camera in something other than auto mode... something I've rarely done. Seems my mother has been promoting herself and one of her friend's decorating skills for publication. Both have filled their homes with primitive antiques. Both have magazine-worthy homes.

An author whose focus is on highlighting primitive antiques is interested in featuring their homes in her upcoming publications. Sample photos were needed to decide if their decor was in keeping with the theme and feel of her books. I quickly volunteered to use my less than stellar photography skills to capture the sample images.

These are a few of the photos taken. (click on the photos for a larger image)

I was ever so grateful these are only to be used as samples and the focus is on content, not the quality of the photos. I've noticed the images are darker when viewed on my work computer than when viewing on my home computer. Leaves me to wonder how they will appear when viewed by the author???

Not to make excuses, but I was shooting in very low light in most rooms and I was digging deep to remember all I've learned in Photography 101 about shooting in such conditions. Trust I will be studying and refreshing my memory on the subject. If the author/publisher likes what she sees, I will be photographing both "J's" house and my mother's house at Christmas. They both decorate for the holidays in their incredible vintage style.

If chosen, the photos...yes...MY photos... will be published in a 2012 Christmas publication!

Wish me luck.

Mom and "J" have their part in the bag.

Me?

Well...I'm off to practice. For as they say...practice makes perfect! And I need all the help I can get!

Stirring Things Up - The Season Premiere

Here we go folks! We are back to our regularly scheduled program. I'm referring to the "show" that is my life. Although we recently took a break from broadcasting the shenanigans of our mixed up, messed up leading lady (that would be me), we are now back in action!

Last year our season finale took an unexpected twist when our heroine (I so love that label) faced serious, life threatening illness. The writers of this not-exactly-ready-for-prime-time drama struggled to generate captivating episodes on the subject for the new season. It was simply too humorless and often times grim...not exactly in keeping with the flippant and sometimes inappropriate main character they had worked so hard to create. There was even consideration given to cancelling the series altogether. The intended story line was no longer there.

However, meetings were held, story lines were pitched and negotiations were made resulting in the network honchos agreeing to another season. The writers have been collaborating over how to reintroduce our protagonist. Obviously the character we all know and love (it's my story here so I am going with the assumption we all love our diva) has changed. Still wanting to tap into her spirit and spunk, they have been working diligently to craft stories that meld the two sides of her personality...the old, naive, believe-life-will-go-on-forever side with the new, more-aware-than-ever-life-can-bite-you-in-the-ass-and-end-tomorrow side.

One aspect of seasons past that will be carried forward into the new season is what we will call the "curve ball effect". Just when you think our heroine is safe and you are sure of her intended course, a curve ball is throw in to stir things up and the plot begins to thicken. As with all good dramas, the viewers (and quite frankly the heroine herself) are left wondering what will happen next.

When we last left our warrior princess, she had just come face to face with her worries regarding her recent health battles and the fear of a recurrence. Knowing she would no longer be visiting her team of medical doctors on a monthly basis, she felt she was stepping into uncharted waters without a life vest.  As the scene came to a close, we were left with the impression she would be venturing back into the world of "normal" where medical issues were not the pressing order of the day. She was choosing to speed forward with a renewed sense of living life to the fullest, leaving her fears in the dust all the while shouting "Cancer be damned!"

But our writers found that boring.

It was time to up their game and interject more frenzy and fuss to the picture. It was time to stir things up.

 Here is a recap of our most recent episode:

• Our opening scene begins with our leading lady making a four hour drive to the infamous Duke Medical Center for a second opinion regarding continued treatments of her life-saving drug Herceptin. Duke's resident expert, Dr. "B", strongly encouraged her to discontinue Herceptin. The benefits of continuing were not proven yet the risks to her heart were great. A suggestion was made to consider enrolling in a clinical trial for a new drug, Neratinib. This drug would offer many of the same benefits of Herceptin without the heart risks. The downside is the drug is not yet approved by the FDA and the protocol of the trial only allows a 50/50 chance of receiving the drug over a placebo.

• Very little thought was needed before the decision was made to follow Dr. "B's" advice. With her mother and friend, "K", to keep her company, our heroine embarked on a day of scans and tests to verify her eligibility to participate in the trial. The trio of characters arrived at the Medical Center at 7:30 am and didn't leave until 11:00 pm. It made for a long, exhausting day. An enormous amount of information relating to the prevention of another encounter with the "c" beast was also offered up by Dr. "B". It was overwhelming but reassuring. As we cut to commercial, the women set out on the long trek home in the wee morning hours with a sense of hope and peace that only comes from hearing what you want to hear.

• The next few days were a whirlwind of phone calls and online searches. Decisions needed to be made regarding an additional procedure and the changing of a maintenance drug. More tests were to be performed on the original biopsy and a nutritionist needed to be contracted as a new member of the show-cancer-who's-boss team.

• Things seemed to be going well until... all hearts stopped and the background music swelled as a phone call came suggesting changes had been found on the recent MRI! What had been the source of her most recent fears could quite possibly be reality...the cancer may have returned. With a weekend to wait for the final results of the current MRI, our heroine made the decision to dig in her heels and not let fear control her. She had given cancer the finger once...she could certainly do it again.

• The episode ends with the news that all is well...it had been a false alarm. No significant changes were found in the MRI. We fade to black as our star lifts her eyes to the sky and offers prayers of thanksgiving.

Tune in next time to see how the clinical trial affects our champion (another word I'm loving) and to witness her fate as she begins her new life as a survivor!

A Whiskey Tango Foxtrot Moment

Last week I had my "last" appointment with my oncologist. Technically, it was the last appointment related to my year long course of treatment. Semi-annual follow up appointments are my new norm. Due to the nature of my cancer, I don't think I will officially be free of Dr. "W" until...like...well...never. Yet when I left his office last week, I did so without having an exact return date.

A first in over a year.

My next appointment won't be for 6 months which is far enough into the future they could not schedule my appointment at this time. While I'm sure this doesn't sound unreasonable to most, to a cancer fighting chica six months is an eternity.

Since the end of August last year I have had 116 cancer related medical appointments. How do I know?

I counted.

And that was only those recorded on my company calendar. There were several not posted during my absence after surgery. Who knows what the true number is. Considering the ginormous amount of poking and prodding I received over the course of a year one would think I would be thrilled to be released back into the world of only-go-to-the-doctor-when-you-feel-like-you-are-gonna-die.

But I wasn't thrilled. Something was nagging me and it wasn't a pleasant feeling.

After chatting it up with Dr. "W" and being informed I was a free woman, at least for a while, I did what I always do...climbed in the car for the 20 minute drive home. This post-appointment commute time is always reserved for processing all the information thrown at me during my most recent visit. It is used to focus on the positive and for directing my attention to the remaining battles to be fought. However this time things were different. My commute was cut short. Why?

I fell apart.

No amount of "processing" could prevent the tidal wave of tears that began to flow from my eyes. The flood gates had opened. I had a meltdown to rival all meltdowns. Unable to drive, I pulled into the first empty parking space I could find at a nearby grocery store and cried like never before. It was such an ugly cry too. One complete with runny nose, heaving sobs and hiccups. As I sat in the parking lot, wailing like a baby, the only thought running through my mind was...

Whiskey Tango Foxtrot?!?!? 


In other words... 


WTF?!?!?


Before we go any further, I need to explain the significance of the above obscenity. I'm one of those who rarely uses the "f" word. I'm not saying that makes me bigger or better than anyone who does. It just isn't my go-to-swear word. Trust that I do spew forth a few curse words from time to time...my most favorite being shit. And I say it with a true country girl twang. So it sounds more like "sh-ee-et"...all long and drawn out. I've tried to train myself to say it in a more refined way but it just ain't gonna happen. When cussing, my country roots are hard-wired into my system with no means to over-ride them.

I also would be lying if I said I've never dropped the "f" bomb because I have. Most often in times of great distress. Yet even with obvious times of "great distress" such as divorce and cancer being a part of my past, I still haven't used the word that often. So...when my only thought was WTF, I knew something was seriously wrong. My reaction was completely unexpected. For the life of me I could not figure out what was the source of my anxiety. Should I not be happy my journey through hell was over?

Again...Whiskey Tango Foxtrot?!?!?


Once I squeezed out every single tear I could possibly muster up, my mind cleared enough for me to see the reason for my sob fest.

I was afraid.

And rightfully so. No longer would I be under a doctor's watchful eye. I would be on my own for 6 long months. Sure...that doesn't sound like such a great deal of time before my next check in for a check up. But the fact remains that last year I went from a clean mammogram to full-blown stage 3 cancer in 8 short...very short...months. The thought of what could happen during these 6 months was more than I could take.

When my battle began, the "c" beast tried to catch me unaware. It craftily worked its wiles without so much as a hint of its existence. When it attacked, it came fully prepared to be make a BIG statement in spite of me doing my part to avoid its invasion or at least arrest the rogue cells early.

I did annual mammograms.

I did self-exams.

I was very aware of my body.

I had done all we are told to do for early detection. Yet none of this prevented the onslaught of an aggressive enemy determined to take me out. I did not catch the "c" creature in its early stages. It had won the first battle with a surprise attack...a fact I could not deny. A fact I had not really considered until now. Thoughts swirled around the question of what if the slain beast resurrects itself. It was time to deal with the horrific thought that the cancer could come back.

No cancer fighting warrior wants to believe the battle is not yet over...or even worse...that they may eventually lose the fight. But the hard cold truth is that a recurrence could happen. Cancer is a formidable opponent. Until a cure is found, it can and will win at times. This past year alone, I lost two very dear friends to this monster. Both battled breast cancer. Both were young. Both did everything they could to fight. But they lost. And my heart is broken.

I am well aware of the severity of my situation and I intend to give it the respect it deserves. But I refuse to give it anything more than that. My time in the grocery store parking lot left me with a lot more than a red nose and puffy eyes. When I shifted my car into drive and headed home, I did so with a new resolve to enjoy the moment. To live today with no fear of tomorrow. Cancer claimed this past year of my life. For now, I am cancer free. Why in the world should I give the horrid "c" creature one more second than is needed to obliterate it from my being?

I am alive.

And I'm going to live.

I will not give in to my fears of what could or could not happen. I will enjoy each day without a worry of what tomorrow will bring.

In other words...

I drove home with a smile on my face for I felt I had found the perfect way to tell cancer to "F(oxtrot) off"!

When a 1/2-Inch Isn't Exactly a 1/2-Inch

So...

They say hair grows at the rate of a 1/2-inch per month. While not considered a substantial amount, when comparing "no hair" to a 1/2-inch of hair, I'll take what I can get and be happy for it.

Before losing my hair and many times after, I did numerous google searches on hair growth. I consider myself a true "google girl" because I google anything and everything. Knowing I was about to become a baldy prompted many online queries on hair in general. The consensus regarding growth rate was exactly as stated above. So when I read to expect 1/2-inch growth, I expected exactly that...1/2-inch each month. And who would blame me for believing?

I got my info from the internet.

And we all know the world wide web doesn't lie?

Bahhaha!

In all my research, no one stated the 1/2-inch would be given to me with conditions. Actually, I'm stretching the truth just a bit. Exceptions and conditions were given...I just didn't want to believe them....I wanted to hang onto the hope of getting my 1/2-inch of hair each month! You know, positive thinking at its finest. But just like everything in life, there are exceptions to every rule.

One condition mentioned is the medication I'm taking could hinder normal growth. Given this drug is saving my life...well...I guess you can see why this growth inhibitor is pretty easy to accept. Another relates to my overall health. Okay...I just went head to head with Stage 3 cancer. I'm thinking my overall health hasn't been exactly working in my favor. And still another rests on the amount of rest I'm getting. Does that mean I need to slow down and smell the roses? I have yet to master that one. Rest isn't in my vocabulary. Factor in stress and the fact we are all "unique individuals with differing growth rates", I can't help but wonder why "they" ever made the 1/2-inch promise to begin with? Like...don't we all experience stress? And just who are "they" anyway?

Chemo ended February 4th. It is now September 19th. That is just over 7 months (7-1/2 months to be exact). I should have 3-1/2 inches of hair (technically 3-3/4 inches). No?

But I don't.

I have just over 2 inches.

Guess I'm one of those "unique individuals with a differing growth rate".

Mind you, I'm not complaining. I'm actually enjoying the process. If you had told me I would have uttered those words prior to losing my hair, I would have laughed in your face. But things have changed for me. I used to find my state of being all wrapped up in the kind of hair day I was experiencing. A good hair day meant an overall good day...a bad hair day...well...that just sucked! Now my hair carries very little weight with regard to my disposition. It just isn't that important anymore.

That being said, I really do miss my long hair and you can bet I'm letting it grow at whatever rate it will grow, doing everything I can to accelerate the process, all in hopes of having long hair again. In the meantime, I'm working to embrace each growth phase...trying my darnedest to "rock" each "look" along the way.

But I have a point to make. Don't I always? I've stumbled upon another life lesson in the arena of hair growth. I know...I seriously over-analyze everything. A life lesson from hair??? Hmmm....

The point I want to make is simply this. We all get caught up in expectations and in so doing, we can sometimes miss the thrill of the ride. We are too busy looking for what we think we should be getting and find ourselves not enjoying what we have.

I'll go ahead and admit it...I do pull out the ruler each month to see how much my hair has grown. And I will continue to do so. Just so you know, watching hair grow is a clear reminder of the truth behind the saying "a watched pot never boils". Repeatedly measuring hair growth is a futile process. But I can't help myself....I'm anal that way. However, I no longer whine about how slow it is growing. Let's face it...it's only hair. I've been without and survived.. I think life will most certainly go on...

even if my 1/2-inch isn't exactly a 1/2-inch.

Met up with any unrealized expectations lately? If so, how did you handle them?