No Egrets

The writing topic for my "writing though Cancer" group was regrets. As a aging Boomer, yes I got my first AARP solicitation in the mail, I am riddled with regrets. As a relatively new cancer survivor you can bet I've turned my life upside down, inside out, and shaken it a few time during the process of reevaluating absolutely everything, and I mean everything!

One of my oldest and dearest friends shared with me her joy over finally retiring from a lengthy career in teaching. We met during summer employment my first year out of High School. She was a tour bus driver and I had the unsavory job of putting bumper stickers on every car that came into the parking lot. How in the hell could she possibly be retiring when I"m still trying to figure out what I want to be when I grow up. I never wanted to be the one who was referred to as "did you know what she finally did when she was in her 70's!"

So I have decided rather than lament unrecoverable lost time I will move forward an Carpe Diem dammit!

My first true love has always been the great out of doors so I decided rather than complaining about San Diego's lack of outdoor trails, hiking, etc. like I have done for the past thirty years, I would find something that caught my interest. I love the wetlands s off I go with my dearest friend who also loves the outdoors.

We drive off excited for our new adventure. I am thrilled about the possibility of seeing a Great Blue Heron or maybe an Egret or two. I ramble on about how sick I am of the shortage of undeveloped space, the traffic, how dry San Diego is (it is a desert). We not 10 minutes into our hike and I start complaining about the sound of the freeway, the hum of highway 101, the dog poop left un- scooped, the plastic, the butts, on and on and on.

I miss being in nature!! This is not nature, let's go. And go we did. As we were leaving in the distance I could see it, my Egret. My eyesight is going (again, old), wished I had my binoculors (nerd), but never the less, it was there for me see in all its glory.

No more regrets, no more Walter Mitty pity parties. From this point on I am going to get off my Baby Booming Butt and get out there in nature, the only place that is pure and true, clearing my head and heart for what really matters, that what Mother Nature affords us.

Remember Country Joe and Woodstock, "I'm going out to the country baby do you wanna go?" Where that's where you'll find me, regretably not on "Maggies Farm."

a: showing kindness and gentleness b: favorable, wholesome

Friend or foe?  Looks like my latest tumor lived up to its name showing a "kindness and gentleness" that my body and my psche truly appreciates.  Benign, what a lovely word.

I am now officially a cancer survivor, in remission, free to think about the future, the present, the here, the now.

Everything I have read warns the first two years are hell. Every lump, bump, scratch, scrape may lead a survivor into an abyss of darkness wondering if the cancer has returned.  For the next two years, every 90 days I will be poked, prodded, injected with dye, x-rayed, held hostage in the MRI tube, and most distressing, I will be forced to don those hideous gowns.

Why isn't there a Bravo series we can relate to?  Oh, you know what I'm taking about! Forget  Design on a Dime, or Shear Genius, what about designing a decent gown that leaves one with a shard of self respect rather than prancing about in the company of strangers with either our ass hanging out, or for those of us whose bodies have been "surgically altered," a gown that actually closes where it matters!  Think about it, they tie around your neck, not quite your midsection, and who knows what the other tie is for, you know the one placed half way around that attaches to basically nothing!

With all the advances that have been made in medicine one would think they may have heard of velcro...HELLO!

My deepest and most sincere thank you goes out to all of you who have continued to hold me in their prayers, thoughts, and hearts.  A dear friend asked me if I was surprised by any particular individual(s) support.  Absolutely and unequivocally I answered NO.  I believe in the innate goodness in people.  I have chosen to surround myself with quality people, people I can believe in.

It's not by accident that I work with fabulous people or live in a neighborhood where I am surrounded by awesome neighbors.  I don't have to wonder who my friends are, and my family ROCKS!

Life is all about choices.  I choose living, and I plan to proceed with gusto!!

View My Golb

It seems only appropriate that what I am doing is "Golbing." yes, golbing, blogging spelled backwards.  It has been about 7-8 months since I was first diagnosed with breast cancer.  I embraced my diagnosis with the same fervor I embrace everything.  I purchased my mandatory pink mug,  searched the internet for "cancer sucks" tee shirts, I perused every cancer site, purchased every book, had myself my very own Oncology Social Worker, not to mention my peeps at the American Cancer Society. Oh there was "Breast Buddies,"Cancer.org,  the woman's cancer support group (I went once but it was to depressing), AND, I have my requisite pink bracelet.  Cancer even catapulted me to to the UCSD bookstore, where guided by my Mac guru I purchased a Mac. Why? If I am going to have Cancer, I 'm going to have it with panache!  I needed a virgin machine untouched by any experience readying itself exclusively for my daily cancer blog which I swore would be healing, cathartic, and keep friends and family updated on my progress.  Did I mention I've never used a Mac?

Once reality grabbed me by the shoulders and shook me silly, I realized I HAD CANCER, HOLY SHIT!  And I never wrote a word about it, until now, now which is the very day of my first follow up visit.  THE day I have been praying for, yes, I have been praying.  All I wanted to hear was "All clear, see you in three months!"  But that's not what I heard; what I heard was, "There is a small lump in your left breast the size of a ........... And that my friends is all I heard.  Yes she mentioned how many centimeters, but really, who cares.

"Don't worry it's probably nothing." Funny, I recall hearing those very words 7 to 8 months ago, and worry I did. Next Tuesday, June 23rd 2007 I meet with my radiation Oncologist and discuss where to go from here.

My gut tells me it's nothing, but you know what, even if it is "something" I know what's ahead of me, and one thing I know for sure is that I am an extremely fortunate person. Why, you wonder would I say that?  Because I know I will have the continued support of my friends, family, co-workers, neighbors, my writing group, and the amazing woman I meet with every Saturday morning.  

They don't call me "Lucky for nothing!

2 Many for 2 years

I survived Mother's Day (barely) now I look forward towards, Father's Day, my Mother's birthday, holidays, and on and on and on.  Which is my point.  Moving on. Moving on holding the love and the memories of those of which we lose close to us. Loss is a fact of life.  As we age we start to see our parents become ill, our friends begin to lose their parents, and if you are like me, over 50, we become ill.

Last year and this year I have faced the biggest challenges of my life; I stopped drinking, I was diagnosed with Breast Cancer, my Mother died unexpectedly, my dearest and closest friends father died, and my dear Nina had her shoulder replaced.  I also moved from a building I had worked in for 20 plus years to a new location, while I was in treatment. My Mother's dog died, and oh, did I mention my niece, the perfect child, has surprised us all with some challenges of her own, an eating disorder.

Did I leave out that my brother, the youngest, informed me "I wasn't really his sister, and he never really liked me anyway," (we have the same Mother, go figure), and everything bad that has happened to me I deserve because I was, "cruel for telling him to step up and be a father, rather than being stoned all the time."

Did I mention how really tired I am?

Losing a parent

Losing a parent is one of life's unimaginable events. Even as we age we seem to think they will forever be there for us.  As this Mother's Day approaches I think about my Mother who passed this January 25th 2008.  Not a day goes by that I don't try to visualize her, hear her voice, or capture her scent.  Last week her dog unexpectedly passed.  With the onslaught of media attempting to convince us that we will be good daughters, sons, or husbands if we present the woman in our lives with the perfect gift, I think about the perfect gift of showing appreciation, love and compassion throughout the year, rather than buckling to convention, and padding the coffers of See's Candies, Hallmark, etc. Going out on Mother's Day conjures, long waits, poor service and mediocre overpriced food. If I could present my Mother with anything this Mother's Day it would be a heartfelt embrace, asking for forgiveness for all the times I was selfish, and didn't take the time to spend with her, or return calls because I was busy.  You think life just goes on forever, but it doesn't.  Time rolls on, people change, our parents get sick,and eventually we must say goodbye.  I wish I had more time so she knew just how deeply I loved her and how deeply sorry I was for never really accepting who she was in the world and just embrace the lovely woman she was.  Happy Mother's Day Mom, I love you and I hope you are wrapped in the loving arms of your family, your Mother, Father, Sister and your beloved dog Belle.  The only thing that gives me peace is knowing you are surrounded by love.

I miss you Mom,  Love Karen