Wednesday, September 2, 2009
20 Questions
There is a game of 20 questions going on in the post titled "Herceptin Part III: HER Diary," below. Scroll towards the end of it. The game is to guess who wrote/said a certain quote as found in Genentech literature.
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
HER Moments
I'm introducing a new label here at The Big "C," in honor of Genentech literature, and the recommendation to "live each moment as though it were a full life."
Because I've been having a lot of "moments" lately.
I don't want to plead chemo-brain. That's just like pleading PMS, isn't it? I mean, my behavior is my behavior, regardless of what causes it.
But if I'm looking for an explanation . . .
The first HER moment was a few weeks ago when I planned to make tuna salad for dinner. This dish requires hard boiled eggs. I set them in the water. Turned the gas heat on.
And then left the house.
I don't even remember having a good intention at the time like, "Let me help Joshua get his shoes on for a minute," or "I'm just going to dash outside to make sure the kids are OK."
I just left the house. Sat down in front. Got to chatting with my neighbor, JenJen.
About, oh, an hour later, I smacked my head and said, "I'M BOILING EGGS!"
Raced inside. Smelled them. They were hard boiled, all right.
The water was gone, the pot was black and the eggs were cracked and burned within their shells.
After dousing them with cold water and opening all the windows, I went back outside. The whole cul-de-sac was stinky.
We ate out that night.
The most recent HER moment was yesterday. I had a meeting to go to at our church to be trained as a leader for AWANA. I knew it was on September 1. I'd told Bryan the kids and I would be gone that evening so he'd have a night to himself. I got ready for it as though it were a big night out. I wore not only a wig, but a skirt and blouse, too.
Buckled the kids in. Drove up to the church. Into the parking lot and Gemma said, "There aren't a lot of cars here, Mom."
No. That's because last night was August 31, not September 1. It's not like I didn't know. Chris mentioned during the protein treatment, 'Can you believe tomorrow's September 1 already?' and I wrote the date "August 31" in my homeschool notebook that afternoon.
Despite the clear evidence I knew the date to be one in August and not September, and despite my knowing that the meeting was scheduled for September 1, I went to the meeting anyway.
So. 2 more moments I could live as though they were a full life. Or, er, 2 full lives, I guess.
Because I've been having a lot of "moments" lately.
I don't want to plead chemo-brain. That's just like pleading PMS, isn't it? I mean, my behavior is my behavior, regardless of what causes it.
But if I'm looking for an explanation . . .
The first HER moment was a few weeks ago when I planned to make tuna salad for dinner. This dish requires hard boiled eggs. I set them in the water. Turned the gas heat on.
And then left the house.
I don't even remember having a good intention at the time like, "Let me help Joshua get his shoes on for a minute," or "I'm just going to dash outside to make sure the kids are OK."
I just left the house. Sat down in front. Got to chatting with my neighbor, JenJen.
About, oh, an hour later, I smacked my head and said, "I'M BOILING EGGS!"
Raced inside. Smelled them. They were hard boiled, all right.
The water was gone, the pot was black and the eggs were cracked and burned within their shells.
After dousing them with cold water and opening all the windows, I went back outside. The whole cul-de-sac was stinky.
We ate out that night.
The most recent HER moment was yesterday. I had a meeting to go to at our church to be trained as a leader for AWANA. I knew it was on September 1. I'd told Bryan the kids and I would be gone that evening so he'd have a night to himself. I got ready for it as though it were a big night out. I wore not only a wig, but a skirt and blouse, too.
Buckled the kids in. Drove up to the church. Into the parking lot and Gemma said, "There aren't a lot of cars here, Mom."
No. That's because last night was August 31, not September 1. It's not like I didn't know. Chris mentioned during the protein treatment, 'Can you believe tomorrow's September 1 already?' and I wrote the date "August 31" in my homeschool notebook that afternoon.
Despite the clear evidence I knew the date to be one in August and not September, and despite my knowing that the meeting was scheduled for September 1, I went to the meeting anyway.
So. 2 more moments I could live as though they were a full life. Or, er, 2 full lives, I guess.
Name List: Men's
- Abie
- Abraham
- Adam
- Admetus
- Al (taken as different from Albert, because it might be short for Alan)
- Albert
- Alex
- Alfie
- Alonzo
- Amadeus
- Andy
- Anthony
- Augustus
- Austin
- Beau
- Ben(nie)
- Bernie
- Bill(y)
- Bo
- Bob(by)
- Bojangles
- Boris
- Brady
- Branigan
- Brian
- Brutus
- Buddy
- Cadigan
- Cain
- Casper
- Charles(Charlie)
- Chester
- Chris
- Claudius
- Cletus
- Clyde
- Colm
- Connely
- Corey
- Daniel
- Davy
- Dean
- Diego
- Don
- Donnely
- Dooley
- Duffy
- Duke
- Earl
- Eddie
- Eli
- ElRoy
- Elvis
- Elzic
- Ernie
- Ezekiel
- Felix
- Fernando
- Finian
- Flanahan
- Flannigan
- Flynn
- Fogarty
- Frank
- Franklin
- Fred
- Gabriel
- Galileo
- Gary
- Garreth
- Gene
- George
- Gilligan
- Gus
- Hagen
- Harrigan
- Harry
- Henry
- Hogarty
- Ivanhoe
- Jack
- Jacob
- Jara
- Jason
- Jed
- Jeremiah
- Jeremy
- Jerry
- Jessie
- Jesus
- Jim/James
- Joey
- John(ny)
- Jonas
- Jose
- Juan
- Jud
- Jude
- Julio
- Keith
- Kelly
- Kenneth
- Lafferty
- Lanahan
- Lancelot
- Lawrence
- Lazarus
- Lee
- Lenny
- Leonard
- Leonid
- Leroy
- Lester
- Levon
- Lloyd
- Louie
- Luka
- Luke
- Mack
- Madigan
- MaGinn
- Mahone
- Malachy
- Malcolm
- Malone
- Manahan
- Manny
- Marciano
- Marty
- Marvin
- Maurice
- Max
- Maxwell
- McGuffy
- McGuinness
- Michael
- Micky
- Milligan
- Monty
- Morrison
- Moses
- Muldowney
- Napoleon
- Ned
- O'Fagan
- O'Hooley
- O'Houlihan
- O'Kelly
- Ollie (perhaps not always a derivative of Oliver)
- Oliver
- Otis
- Owusu
- Pablo
- Patrick
- Paul
- Peter
- Pherb
- Phinnas
- Plato
- Plutarch
- Porgy
- Quinn
- Rafferty
- Rasputin
- Rene
- Richard
- Ricky
- Rico
- Robin
- Roland
- Romeo
- Ronnie
- Roy
- Rudolph
- Sam
- Sancho
- Seamus
- Sean
- Shanahan
- Sigmund
- Silas
- Soolaimon
- Stan
- Steve
- Sue
- Thomson
- Tim
- Toby
- Tom(my)
- Tony
- Tuck
- Ulysses
- Victor
- Vincent
- Vito
- Walter
- Wayne
- Weatherby
- Whelan
- Willie
- Wyatt
- Zaccheus
Wellness Update
It's Tuesday morning. I finally woke up feeling human again. It's weird how it just lifts away. I am still fighting something in my throat and nose, but this might be the shift in the season around here. I usually feel a little like this when Autumn falls.
Thank you for your prayers. :-)
Thank you for your prayers. :-)
Hercepting Part III: HER Diary
I'm not done with their literature yet. Well. I'm done reading it. But I'm not done making fun of it.
I meant for yesterday's post to be on the funny side, and as I continue today, please see me smiling as I write this. It's all very grim in some sense. But it's also pretty amusing. When I unpacked it weeks ago, after my meeting with She Who Shall Not Be Named, Bryan looked at the stack and asked, "What are you going to do with this?"
Heh heh: Blog fodder.
My favorite item in the bag (OK, wait a sec, about that bag. . . I'm not sure what I'm supposed to do with it. It's clearly a Breast Cancer Bag. And because it's the over the shoulder/backpack hybrid, it's even kind of shaped like a breast. It has the archer girl embroidered on it. Where do I take a bag like this? I suppose it would be received as another item in the vast array of breast cancer support-pink, and THAT is a blog entry for a future day. I don't know. Maybe it's cute.)
My favorite item in the bag is one titled "my diary." Smaller case letters. Because that's a little more chic than upper case. Archer girl is shooting a line through the title. The front and back covers are hot pink.
I am told on the inside, next to the picture of a pink ribbon and under the phrase "especially for you," that "This diary is for you to record your thoughts and experiences during your treatment."
Oh. OK. So I turn the page to find it labeled "week 1," and on the first line is the direction, "Start your journey here."
Oh! Directions! For how to get through breast cancer! Thanks, Genentech!
What should I do during weeks 1 through 8, because I'm already on week 9 (at the time of getting this diary).
Well, week 2. . . On the opposite page. No directions that week.
Week 3, "Reach out for support." Nothing on week 4. Maybe they didn't have the budget to come up with directions for the even weeks.
Week 5, "Consider joining a support group." Oh. Maybe that's for the people who spent weeks 3 and 4 "reaching out for support," but not finding it. Damn. Now they've wasted 2 weeks when Genentech could have told them to join a support group during week 3!
Week 7, "Keep going." Geez! I really wish I'd had my meeting with She Who Shall Not Be Named earlier, so that I would have read this in time for week 7 because during week 7, I was thinking, "Hmm, maybe I should stop doing what I need to do to save my life--" and hearing that Genentech thinks I should "keep going" would have been a real help right about then.
Week 9, "Stay hopeful." Again, really helpful. Not as helpful as week 11, "Stay positive."
This diary is truly. . .and artifact. Of something. Week 13 is "Challenge yourself with a crossword puzzle."
?????
Has a crossword ever helped anyone feel better about herself if she weren't already a person who does crossword puzzles?
Every odd week offers a little gem. Some of it is actually bad medical advice: Week 35, "Take time for yourself with a relaxing bubble bath." Uh, Genentech? Stepping into a hot bath after having your lymph nodes removed could trigger lymphedema in that arm. I know your yoga models wouldn't have a concern about that, but those of us whose lives actually need saving by your drug are now kind of limited that way.
OK, OK, you get the picture.
On the last page are "inspirational quotes." And here's your chance to play along!
There are 3 quotes. I'll tell you who wrote/said the first 2. For the 3rd one, how about we play 20 Questions in the comments section?
"Laughter is teh shortest distance between 2 people" - Victor Borge
"When I discover who I am, I'll be free" - Ralph Ellison
And the one that you will guess over:
"Let your light shine--shine within you so that it can shine on someone else. Let your light shine." -- ??????
Rules:
1. You are all on the same team. I'll log in to answer Yes or No to whatever questions are in the comments section. Not sure how painstaking that will be, but I'll try to check often.
2. NO USE OF THE INTERNET. You're only data set for guessing should be my answers to your questions.
3. Go!
I meant for yesterday's post to be on the funny side, and as I continue today, please see me smiling as I write this. It's all very grim in some sense. But it's also pretty amusing. When I unpacked it weeks ago, after my meeting with She Who Shall Not Be Named, Bryan looked at the stack and asked, "What are you going to do with this?"
Heh heh: Blog fodder.
My favorite item in the bag (OK, wait a sec, about that bag. . . I'm not sure what I'm supposed to do with it. It's clearly a Breast Cancer Bag. And because it's the over the shoulder/backpack hybrid, it's even kind of shaped like a breast. It has the archer girl embroidered on it. Where do I take a bag like this? I suppose it would be received as another item in the vast array of breast cancer support-pink, and THAT is a blog entry for a future day. I don't know. Maybe it's cute.)
My favorite item in the bag is one titled "my diary." Smaller case letters. Because that's a little more chic than upper case. Archer girl is shooting a line through the title. The front and back covers are hot pink.
I am told on the inside, next to the picture of a pink ribbon and under the phrase "especially for you," that "This diary is for you to record your thoughts and experiences during your treatment."
Oh. OK. So I turn the page to find it labeled "week 1," and on the first line is the direction, "Start your journey here."
Oh! Directions! For how to get through breast cancer! Thanks, Genentech!
What should I do during weeks 1 through 8, because I'm already on week 9 (at the time of getting this diary).
Well, week 2. . . On the opposite page. No directions that week.
Week 3, "Reach out for support." Nothing on week 4. Maybe they didn't have the budget to come up with directions for the even weeks.
Week 5, "Consider joining a support group." Oh. Maybe that's for the people who spent weeks 3 and 4 "reaching out for support," but not finding it. Damn. Now they've wasted 2 weeks when Genentech could have told them to join a support group during week 3!
Week 7, "Keep going." Geez! I really wish I'd had my meeting with She Who Shall Not Be Named earlier, so that I would have read this in time for week 7 because during week 7, I was thinking, "Hmm, maybe I should stop doing what I need to do to save my life--" and hearing that Genentech thinks I should "keep going" would have been a real help right about then.
Week 9, "Stay hopeful." Again, really helpful. Not as helpful as week 11, "Stay positive."
This diary is truly. . .and artifact. Of something. Week 13 is "Challenge yourself with a crossword puzzle."
?????
Has a crossword ever helped anyone feel better about herself if she weren't already a person who does crossword puzzles?
Every odd week offers a little gem. Some of it is actually bad medical advice: Week 35, "Take time for yourself with a relaxing bubble bath." Uh, Genentech? Stepping into a hot bath after having your lymph nodes removed could trigger lymphedema in that arm. I know your yoga models wouldn't have a concern about that, but those of us whose lives actually need saving by your drug are now kind of limited that way.
OK, OK, you get the picture.
On the last page are "inspirational quotes." And here's your chance to play along!
There are 3 quotes. I'll tell you who wrote/said the first 2. For the 3rd one, how about we play 20 Questions in the comments section?
"Laughter is teh shortest distance between 2 people" - Victor Borge
"When I discover who I am, I'll be free" - Ralph Ellison
And the one that you will guess over:
"Let your light shine--shine within you so that it can shine on someone else. Let your light shine." -- ??????
Rules:
1. You are all on the same team. I'll log in to answer Yes or No to whatever questions are in the comments section. Not sure how painstaking that will be, but I'll try to check often.
2. NO USE OF THE INTERNET. You're only data set for guessing should be my answers to your questions.
3. Go!
Monday, August 31, 2009
Herceptin Part II: HERs
A disclaimer: No breast cancer patient has ever had it easier or better than I am having it. I am surrounded by love and support and help. All of you. All of my neighbors. Everyone in my life is our corner. The sheer wealth of it is almost an embarassment.
It's a disclaimer because I'm about to start making fun of the Herceptin literature. I can imagine instances when women are not wealthy is this way that I am wealthy, and that maybe this kind of literature is actually a (needed) help for them. That makes me sad, of course, that some women might claim as a main source of support the company that manufacturers their medicine.
But it still needs to be made fun of. This is because there's an unseemly side to cancer. The business side. The marketing that goes with it. Money gets made as lives get saved, so I don't begrudge them. I guess all I can do is mock them.
To whit:
I was given a Herceptin care package of literature, all contained in a pink over the shoulder backpack. It bears the Herceptin logo--the sihloette of a naked woman shooting an arrow. She has a breast. I admit this pisses me off.
She's on this page: Genentech: Access Solutions
Genentech is the company that manufacturers Herceptin. And, I suspect, who discovered the HER2 protein and named it. How can I be sure? Because its real name is Human Epidermal growth factor Receptor 2. Which, conveniently, includes the letters H E and R and lo!
We now have Herceptin.
And the books that explain it are called HER Strenth and HER Hope. So perfect! And they both have women on the covers who are wearing white capris and pink, knit tops, posed in a Yoga stance of some kind and they both have big breasts. Have you no editors, Genentech???
On one piece of literature is this unattributed quote:
"Divide your day into moments, then live each moment as if it were one full life."
Huh.
So. Like the moment that started today at 8 AM as I was still sleeping when the doorbell rang and I thought, "Who could be here this early?" and Gemma yelled upstairs, "It's Miss Chris!" and I thought, "Why on earth is Chris here?" and THEN thought, "Protein day!"
I had completely forgotten.
What were the kids doing? I checked. They'd put a movie on for themselves and gotten breakfast, which, this morning, was Cheetos.
I got dressed in seconds. Didn't have to do my hair.
Chris dressed Joshua and changed his diaper. I poured them milk because milk rounds out Cheetos as a balanced meal, right? Stephanie arrived to babysit them. I grabbed water and a granola bar before heading out with Chris to the Chemo barn.
Is that the moment I should live as though it were one full life?
Or how about the moment when I put Thomas the Tank Engine underpants on Joshua and told him it was time to use the potty like a big boy? He seemed up for it.
I led him to the potty chair, showed him how the underpants come down, made him sit. And then realized I'd spent special little time and energy considering the mechanics of male urination. I had planned--I guess--on having him sit on the potty and point it down.
Once he was sitting on that little chair, his chubby thighs were squished together and his belly rounded out and down and there would be no pointing anywhere but out. He looked decidedly uncomfortable.
But this is one full life, dammit, and we're not going to end it without a real effort. So I had him stand, started talking up how Daddy does his business, and brought him to the toilet. He's not tall enough to whiz into a toilet.
I brought a plastic step stool over, had him stand on it and. . .there! That should do it! Have at it, son!
He looked at me with he eyebrows raised and forehead furrowed. And he didn't whiz.
To date, he's neither whizzed nor pooped in any place that meets with our sewar pipes. Are these the moments I'm supposed to live as one full life?
The point is, what qualifies Genentech to be the arbiter of this "wisdom"? What do they know about it? And what's more, what do they even care about it?
Genentech, if you cared about how I'm coping with breast cancer, you'd have saved the 10 bucks you invested in my backpack and all the literature, and have given me a gift card to Starbucks instead.
So you can take your little archer girl, and your little pink backpack, and your little yoga models and wrap them all into a little moment, lived as one full life, where I tell you that HER hope and HER strength adds up to a lot of HER bullshit.
It's a disclaimer because I'm about to start making fun of the Herceptin literature. I can imagine instances when women are not wealthy is this way that I am wealthy, and that maybe this kind of literature is actually a (needed) help for them. That makes me sad, of course, that some women might claim as a main source of support the company that manufacturers their medicine.
But it still needs to be made fun of. This is because there's an unseemly side to cancer. The business side. The marketing that goes with it. Money gets made as lives get saved, so I don't begrudge them. I guess all I can do is mock them.
To whit:
I was given a Herceptin care package of literature, all contained in a pink over the shoulder backpack. It bears the Herceptin logo--the sihloette of a naked woman shooting an arrow. She has a breast. I admit this pisses me off.
She's on this page: Genentech: Access Solutions
Genentech is the company that manufacturers Herceptin. And, I suspect, who discovered the HER2 protein and named it. How can I be sure? Because its real name is Human Epidermal growth factor Receptor 2. Which, conveniently, includes the letters H E and R and lo!
We now have Herceptin.
And the books that explain it are called HER Strenth and HER Hope. So perfect! And they both have women on the covers who are wearing white capris and pink, knit tops, posed in a Yoga stance of some kind and they both have big breasts. Have you no editors, Genentech???
On one piece of literature is this unattributed quote:
"Divide your day into moments, then live each moment as if it were one full life."
Huh.
So. Like the moment that started today at 8 AM as I was still sleeping when the doorbell rang and I thought, "Who could be here this early?" and Gemma yelled upstairs, "It's Miss Chris!" and I thought, "Why on earth is Chris here?" and THEN thought, "Protein day!"
I had completely forgotten.
What were the kids doing? I checked. They'd put a movie on for themselves and gotten breakfast, which, this morning, was Cheetos.
I got dressed in seconds. Didn't have to do my hair.
Chris dressed Joshua and changed his diaper. I poured them milk because milk rounds out Cheetos as a balanced meal, right? Stephanie arrived to babysit them. I grabbed water and a granola bar before heading out with Chris to the Chemo barn.
Is that the moment I should live as though it were one full life?
Or how about the moment when I put Thomas the Tank Engine underpants on Joshua and told him it was time to use the potty like a big boy? He seemed up for it.
I led him to the potty chair, showed him how the underpants come down, made him sit. And then realized I'd spent special little time and energy considering the mechanics of male urination. I had planned--I guess--on having him sit on the potty and point it down.
Once he was sitting on that little chair, his chubby thighs were squished together and his belly rounded out and down and there would be no pointing anywhere but out. He looked decidedly uncomfortable.
But this is one full life, dammit, and we're not going to end it without a real effort. So I had him stand, started talking up how Daddy does his business, and brought him to the toilet. He's not tall enough to whiz into a toilet.
I brought a plastic step stool over, had him stand on it and. . .there! That should do it! Have at it, son!
He looked at me with he eyebrows raised and forehead furrowed. And he didn't whiz.
To date, he's neither whizzed nor pooped in any place that meets with our sewar pipes. Are these the moments I'm supposed to live as one full life?
The point is, what qualifies Genentech to be the arbiter of this "wisdom"? What do they know about it? And what's more, what do they even care about it?
Genentech, if you cared about how I'm coping with breast cancer, you'd have saved the 10 bucks you invested in my backpack and all the literature, and have given me a gift card to Starbucks instead.
So you can take your little archer girl, and your little pink backpack, and your little yoga models and wrap them all into a little moment, lived as one full life, where I tell you that HER hope and HER strength adds up to a lot of HER bullshit.
Sunday, August 30, 2009
Sunday Storytime: Or Not. . .
People!
I still feel like I've been run over by a truck. It's Sunday already. I thought, as of Friday, that I was rebounding, but yesterday saw me the most tired of all. It's possible I'm fighting off a throat germ. And I had been so glad to be victorious over lower GI issues, only to have them rear up yesterday and today in full force--with nothing in my diet to blame them on!
Very frustrating. And tiring, as this kind of problem interrupts one's sleep.
So, I'm just going to be patient. Rest. (Again.) And hope that I'll be ready to go tomorrow.
No story for today. I'm going to nap instead.
I still feel like I've been run over by a truck. It's Sunday already. I thought, as of Friday, that I was rebounding, but yesterday saw me the most tired of all. It's possible I'm fighting off a throat germ. And I had been so glad to be victorious over lower GI issues, only to have them rear up yesterday and today in full force--with nothing in my diet to blame them on!
Very frustrating. And tiring, as this kind of problem interrupts one's sleep.
So, I'm just going to be patient. Rest. (Again.) And hope that I'll be ready to go tomorrow.
No story for today. I'm going to nap instead.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
