Please meet Sir Charles!

Please meet the newest addition to our house! This is Sir Charles the bear. Ain't he cute? One side of the sign says welcome and the other side says go away. We have since changed it to welcome, don't want the neighbors talking about those unsocialable bastards from Long Island..

But I love him! I've wanted one for so long, had a really hard time finding one I liked. Was he expensive? Yeah, probably more than I should have spent, but he's my birthday present to myself. He's made me feel better, I say hello to him when I see him and I what I need now is to feel better, not poopy.

Yesterday, good heavens, did I feel awful. I pushed myself and cleaned some of the house, but had to keep sitting down. By the time the evening started rolling around, I was coma like, which of course, really pissed me off because A Hard Days' Night was on last night and I was looking forward to it, even though I have the deluxe DVD. There's just something about one of your all time faves making the TV schedule that seems special, although you can slap the DVD in anytime. I really couldn't concentrate on it. Ended up pooping out at 10:30, and went to bed. You just cannot imagine the effect chemo has on your already worn out body.

Found out that my next chemo of Adriamycin (red hawaiian punch) ends next time around. Then I switch over to Taxol. God knows what the effects of THAT are, probably similar. I find it amusing in a sick sort of way that the actual CANCER doesn't hurt. It's the MEDICINE that's making me feel like I have been beaten, tortured and left for dead. But I tell you what, kitty kats, this tumor is shrinking big time. It was a hard lump before, like unmovable. Now, when I run my hand over there, it's moveable, like a sort of cyst and it is no way as prominent as it was. So that's gotta be good, eh?

I'm sure my good buds, like Janet, Mar, Marilyn, Amy, Cindy, would all say the same.

When you find yourself in this boat, you think about other people before yourself. I'm more worried about my mom, husband and cat than myself at this point. Not looking for sainthood, don't get the wrong idea, I'm just more worried about being a burden and a bother. As I said in a previous entry, I am one of those who feel guilty or take the blame even if something is no way 'my fault'. Huge character flaw. My kitty knows mommy doesn't always feel well, I can tell by the way he looks at me, then jumps up and curls up against me, or raises his paw and gently touches my face. My poor husband is on the verge of exhaustion, going to work (and he works long damn hours) then taking me back and forth to the hospital, not even kicking in if he's worried. I say IF, because he sure doesn't give me outward signs that he's wringing his hands when I'm not around. ALL he ever says is how I'm already beating this and I'm gonna be fine. Then, of course, we come to my mother.

Only my longest friend Maryellen has ever met my mom. But, she's a helluva lot older now, a recent widow, suddenly alone, and her only child has breast cancer and she doesn't even know it because I am telling you, I deserve an OSCAR for this performance I've put on since I found out. But the time has come.

We're going down Sunday with lots of presents, cards, trinkets, flowers, and bad news. She's gonna see I look basically the same except for the bald head (which she WON'T see), I'm still me, it's getting smaller, blah blah. But the actual first moments after I say, mom, well, over the past few months I've been undergoing treatment for breast cancer....I just don't know what those pregnant moments will do. WIll she scream? Faint? Yell "Oh My GOD!"...My poor family has undergone a horrendous bout of hideous things over the past few months. Bad luck doesn't seem to cover it. Two deaths, my mom has diabetes, I have breast cancer, outrageous medical bills, house problems, debts left behind by my dad, it's endless. I just don't know how much more she can stand. Therein lies the guilt. *I* am telling her this, *I* am adding to her already overwhelming burdens and problems. Up till now, I have deftly avoided the subject, acted normal, blah. Now, I make her life worse.

I know, I know, before you say it. I have to think of ME, get ME well, etc., and not be obsessed about what my condition will do to others. But it's so difficult when you're an only child and have seen all this mayhem in just a few months.

Enough. I'm sure I'm depressing the hell outta anyone reading this.

My blood pressure has stabilized to between 130/70 to 118/72. So, I'm cool in that area. Today I must call the surgeon and arrange to have the port installed before my next chemo if I can. My veins ain't holdin' up so well, and I'm starting to look like a candidate for the A&E show Intervention, black and blue arms, tracks, awful looking. The port goes in your upper chest and all blood work and chemo go in there, no more needles or IV's. It's done in what they call 'day surgery'. In....out.

So that's about it. Feel pretty good today, not tired, not sick, etc. Later I will go sit on the screened in porch with my kitty and get some air. Thankfully, no more doctors this week, but Sunday is gonna be a humdinger.