Hello, God? Can We Talk...

Yes, it's me again. Frequent caller, sparodic listener.

First I want to thank you for nearly a week and no call from the cancer center about Mr. L's recent blood work. No news is good news in our cancer experience. If you do manipulate (and you can tell I'm still conflicted on that whole possibility) those details, thank you.

Now, to get to the topic of the day, can we talk about spiders? I'm a bit arachnophobic. I'm not the scream high pitched squeals don't like spiders kind of girl. I'm the totally lose my voice, become immobilized and break out in a cold sweat don't like spiders kind of girl. Especially certain spiders in certain spaces.

You and I know the reason; no point in inviting anyone else into that nightmare, but I do wonder why you thought spiders were necessary? I mean, you gave snakes a feature role in Creation that explains their whole lack of popularity. But what were you thinking with the spiders? And why so many kinds, each more creepy than the last? And the hair. And all those legs. What, what, WHAT were you thinking?

Whatever your thoughts lo those many years ago when Creation came into being, could you cut me a little spiderless space right now? Like the other night, fresh out of the hospital, when I hobbled down the hallway, intent upon coaxing my objecting body into some basic bedtime hygiene, and--poof--there on the floor, right next to my foot was a spider. A spider who surely had a starring role in one of the Harry Potter movies. A big spider. A big hairy spider.

And I lost my voice, my painfully limited ability to move and my already dwindling calm attitude. Not cool. Not at all, at all. Pretty much all I had getting me through the moments last week was a strong vein of chutzpah and it flew out the door in the face of one hairy spider.

Then today when Mr. L. retrieved me from my bored housebound reality. Was the spider who suddenly materialized out of nowhere, clickety-clacked his spidery legs across the dashboard and disappeared into the vents just another freak of nature?

Or are you working overtime to answer Mr. L's prayers? He seems to think he could use a little heavenly help in dealing with what he considers to be an argumentive patient. Admittedly the first spider did distract me from my illicit intent to sneak a quick soak in a forbidden bubble bath while Mr. L. was napping. And after today's revelation, I won't be slipping out of the house with my camera for any forbidden driving until I see the lifeless remains of a certain truck dwelling arachnid. And we both know Mr. L. won't be producing that kill for at least another 2 weeks, per doctor's instructions.

Please, Lord, not to question your decisions, but please don't put any spiders in the M & Ms jar or on my comfortable chair in the backyard. Those small selfish comforts are really, well, comforting right now. Please don't take away my chutzpah and my chocolate all in the same week.

In case Mr. L's prayers have zeroed in on the weight of my sewing machine and box of favorite fabric, you can disband any potential army of spiders there. I'll wait until Mr. L. is here to lift it for me. I promise.

Take a spin with Liz at A Mom on Spin for your own conversation with God.

Dear So and So...

Dear Mr. Nurse in the surgical recovery area--What in my groggy demeanor gave you the impression I would be entertained by your nickname for the hospital's habit of scheduling most gynecology surgeries for the same day each week? "Bloody Crotch Day" you called it? Really? And here I thought it must be Give A Jerk A Job Day. Normally I would have seen a certain morbid logic in your humor that I might have found worth a chuckle. But timing is everything, sir, and a couple of hours after surgery isn't the time. I hope you get a chronic prostate infection, an impatient doctor with large fingers and a Groundhog Day like repetition of the same exam again and again.--Affectionately, Recovering Hysterectomy Patient

Dear Mrs. Nurse--Dr. Who said to do What to Whom? Not to me, he didn't. How do I know? Because my doctor is a she, not a he, because my doctor is a gynecologist, not a urologist, and because I am not the owner of the penis you were supposed to be threading a catheter into so that poor man could go home.--Sincerely, Now WIDE AWAKE AND ALERT Patient

Dear Hospital--Two words. Staff training. You need some serious help in a few areas. You are a lawsuit waiting to happen.--Non-litigious But Genuinely Concerned Patient/Consumer

Dear Husband--Happy Birthday. Next year. No recovering from anything for either of us on your birthday. Deal? I owe you a good dinner and more.--Love, Your Sleepy Slightly Drugged Up Wife

Drop in at Kat's place for your own Dear So and So...

Three Month News

Kevin's 3 month checkup day again. Oncologist thought things looked good, sounded like they should, felt like they ought to feel.

So now we wait for Kev's blood work to come back and hope those numbers don't show anything that would cause a call back to the clinic. The neuropathy in his hands and feet continues, always there, worse on some days, unpredictable as to what might trigger it. It's pretty clear by now that this will be a permanent side effect of the chemotherapy treatments, not a passing thing. One of those realities they definitely soft sell pre-treatment. Everything else looked/sounded/felt ok to the medical assistant, nurse practitioner, doctor, 4 year resident and lab tech who each got a turn at him. He also got a seasonal flu shot and scheduled a pneumonia shot for next week.

Under the heading of avoiding invasions of his personal space--always a good thing from Kev's view--he got a couple of bits of good news today. First, I talked with his surgeon's office in Indiana and Dr. Francis says if he's not having any additional/new symptoms of constriction in the bowel surgical area, he can push the next colonoscopy off until April. One year from the last one. Second, his oncologist says he doesn't have to have another PET/CT scan until the end of the year/beginning of next year. Kevin hates the PET/CT possibly more than the colonoscopy since it adds additional radiation exposure to his already over-exposed body so this was exceptionally good news.

Three more months ticked off the Cancer Come Back Meter. This is good news.

Have a Plan, Version .09 (aka Make a List)

Today is Clean the House Day. Why? Because it's on the list I made. The To Do Before Surgery List.

My essential rule. Have a Plan. Having a list is almost as good as having a plan.

I'm not sure why cleaning the house made the list. Probably because it was suggested on one of the several forums I visited while seeking information. For The Plan.

FYI, I've categorized the forums from Essential Information to Good to Know to HYSTERical Women Having Hysterectomies. I didn't last long at that one. And they haven't emailed me a reminder to drop back in.

Anyway, somewhere along the line, there was a suggestion of having things done pre-surgery so you won't have to worry about doing them later. What I realized today was that it's not likely I'm going to worry now or later about the house being clean. Or super clean anyway. Scratch that one from The List.

See? I'm already ahead of the game.

I did clean the bathroom--the bathtub being my comfort zone when I feel rotten and I want a really clean comfort zone in the coming days--and I made a mental list of things I will never purchase again. Bathroom things. Things Kevin delicately refers to as "girl stuff." No more.

With all the $$ I'm going to save on that "girl stuff" I can do some serious shopping. My doctor said it was important to walk after surgery. She probably meant at the outlet mall. Recouperative Shopping. Who could possibly argue with that plan?