Monday, November 2, 2015

I can drink coffee again. Minor Miracle. 

I took Grantley out this morning. Okay it was only around the block and Tim Downstairs walked with me and it is a glorious day outside. 

Maybe September was a great time to have this surgery because I get to pop out into a world that's got these colors and that sky. Maybe, maybe, maybe. 

I found a book. 

The last book? She lost me at the second sentence. Ready? 

"An unfamiliar voice was nudging me awake, prying me from a deep, comforting sleep-the type of sleep which enfolds you like a downy blanket on a rainy winter night."  

You could plant your prize begonias in that writing, couldn't ya? 

I also read Julia Sweeney's God Said Ha!. Easy read. Published in 1997. Wanted to read it because she's coming to speak at one of these Cancer Places and I wanted to see if it'd be something I'd like to attend and no. 

But this one: Called Positive Options for Colorectal Cancer-Self Help and Treatment by Carol Ann Larson from 2005. This is the book they should have handed me as they wheeled me out into the sunshine on discharge day. And I read it back to front. Started with Lessons Learned from Surviving Cancer and finished with Facing the Unknown

So gawd fahbid you need it, get that one, yo. Or you could talk to me. Whadeva. 


Yesterday in a nutshell. 

I upped the foolishness factor. 

I've had all this time to think about Women I Admire(Also cancer t-shirts I'd be willing to wear*) and what they have in common is their ability to actually laugh so hard their heads actually detach from their bodies. 

I want that. (Don't you?) 

There was dancing. There was music from The Carpenters. And I sauntered over to my bathroom mirror thinking, hey I betcha I look better than I did when this whole thing started. My hair's a bit longer. I think I've lost a little weight from the popsicle diet  And I gaze upon my loveliness and this is what I see. 

Then the sneezing begins. 49 thousand sneezes and I think, ya know, this is hard-core, good fortune because had this happened a couple-a weeks ago, I would have probably exploded at the point of my perforation, right? So, we ventured out into the world-I was driving except I had to pull over because my eyes were going coo-coo. 

We kept going, P at the helm, G in the rear. And my head got worse and worse. It was the strangest thing. The pain. I thought, is this what a migraine feels like? It was wrapping around my entire left eye, going to my ear. Ow ow ow ow. Holymuthaofjayzuz. 

We got to Graue Mill? And here's me, on a glorious fall day, sitting inside the car, watching P and G collecting leaves. 

That is so not right. 


Get yourself one of these.

11 bucks at Kohl's. You're welcome. 

The nurse called this morning. She said/he said keep taking Miralax. (Patty? I did find a way to get it down and that's stirred into ginger ale AND I have to mix it up myself. Go figya.) And that YES, it's okay for me to go see the dietician. And she asked, do you have a history of cancer and I'm like.......uhhhhhyessssss. Well, then I should see the dietitians of the cancer center. 

(I'm gonna spare you the actives of Saturday expect to say that Buona Beef is off the menu permanently.)

It's one criticism I'm going to make about this surgical experience. When you leave? They tell you to eat a normal diet. And isn't that possibly/maybe what got me into this madness? 

Keep ya posted. 

There is very little to think about in the hospital so I got thinking about the t-shirt. I went looking afterward. So insulting. Seriously. Like you know the pink ribbon? So a-holes have made shirts with brown ribbons. And they have shirts that say: Colon Cancer Stinks. 

Woo. How clever. Not. 

Here's: Colon Cancer Blows. So dumb so dumb so dumb. 

There's a Semi-colon that's sort of okay but hasn't that been taken over by another faction? 

For me it would be this: 

I just had cancer surgery, get the hell out of my way.

Too much? 


  1. Can't you call it butt aliens? I knew someone who named his brain tumor... like it was some weird vestigial appendage crossed with a Siamese twin.

  2. I can see why you like this book. A few pages in (sampling it in google books) I like the clear and direct approach. Thanks for the tip.

  3. No, not too much! Make it happen.
    In high school my friend Megan, in lieu of saying Excuse Me, told a boy Move Or I'll Fart.