Wednesday, March 25, 2009

Opening and Closing Doors

I guess I am with Mary-Elizabeth, I just want all of this to stop. I have had enough of the Cancer World thing. It just does not give up. Every time you think life is going to "get back to normal" something trips you up. The dogs leave a bone on the floor and trip, or the favorite restaurant is gone, or the weather man forgot to mention the 2 feet of snow that is falling. MAKE IT STOP.

That being said, I had that horrible feeling last night. I was securely nestled on a very high end brocade sofa in the Olympic Hotel in downtown Seattle. A very quiet, smiling woman dressed in black exited the elevator. She had a perfect splash of color from her tasteful and folded scarf. She walked over and introduced herself to Mary-Elizabeth. I asked if I was needed, both said "NO". She and Mary-Elizabeth entered the elevator and the door closed. I had the same feeling and flash back to the days she entered the radiation chamber at the University of Washington. Pressure builds in the chest. I become short of breath, maybe because I had stopped breathing all together and then I waited for her to come out again.

This time the wait was for an hour or more properly a therapist hour, of 50 minutes. She did re-emerge. After her radiation treatments she was usually smiling, complaining about how her mouth tasted funny, and she just wanted to go home to bed. She would have some crazy craving like Costco hot dogs and only Costco hot dogs.

A different person came out of the door. There were signs of tears. When I asked what was wrong, she said she just wanted to go home, now, please, don't ask, don't enquire. She hates to cry. I asked if everything was okay. She gave me the "LOOK"...

I guess we have to enter the hard places and address the hard issues in order to find the good doors to enter. Maybe if she goes up that elevator enough time, she can close the door on Cancer World.

Monday, March 23, 2009

David never changes.

Sally:

Hey, little brother
So you weren’t in Montana

David:

You know me better then that, this time of year I am in Mexico more often then no

Sally:

So what happen in Montana?

David:

No one will know for awhile, but I can tell you, I would never fly a ___________ (I didn’t catch the name)

Sally:

Do you think he ran out of gas?

David:

'I don’t know?

Sally:

Does it make you nervous?

David:

No! whatever it was, I wouldn’t let it happen to me! I am too careful.

Monday, March 09, 2009

You Know, they always keep a few instructions in a secret place


There are just so many things how would you ever learn it all, relay it all, forget it all. We are looking for therapist for Mary-Elizabeth. She is going to need to "PROCESS" all of the last five years. I guess this blog will help educate whomever we choose. So that will be easy. I have called all the resources I know and asked for referrals. A very wise individual left a very short part of a message that really sort of explained it all.


"She must be doing this now because this is the first time she has been able to stand it." Okay, we will deal with it now. Not later, not during but NOW.


So wanted: the best Cognitive Behavioral Adolescent Therapist in the greater Seattle area, should accept Boeing insurance.

Thursday, March 05, 2009

I Just Hate Surprises

I guess this is not a surprise. I guess we have been talking about it endlessly on how it would happen. It is sort of like pre-parenthood. You are sure that (no matter the knowing look for other parents ) your life will return to normal. Normal never comes. We have all been waiting for the time that Mary-Elizabeth fell apart and began to really deal with being a cancer patient/survivor. Well

SURPRISE!

On Monday we had a big ACCESS appointment. I have yet to know what the letters mean but it is what happens when you are off treatment for two years. The gist of it was that M-E received a list of all her surgeries, treatment chemo drugs and the amounts. She was given a book of side affects. At 16 she heard a discussion about later cancers, thyroid cancer, breast cancer, bladder cancer and her possible lack of fertility.

Monday we had to have Won Ton in Hot Oil Sauce (Two orders). Tuesday she forgot her English books and needed a note. Wednesday she lost her planner and can't find Frankenstein, cried, needed to be tucked into bed, with Tucker and needed me to sing to her... Thursday she is still asleep and unable to face the world.

Well, I always need a plan. I am thinking sleeping in, breakfast, pedicure, a trip to the hardware store and maybe a movie. If that does not work we will try plan B. I will work on that while my toes are being painted.