BATMOM

Displaced Newt

I am slowly regaining energy and strength and feel that my brain is becoming my friend again. I'm not so terrified to think the dark thoughts that are real and constant and ever-present. I am getting better at voicing those fears, acknowledging their existence, and then staring them down and inviting them them leave.

I have found that if I allow myself the thoughts (and don't run and hide from them) then I have some control. Thoughts aren't reality. Fears aren't fact. If I voice my worst fears, I am able to pull them in perspective, loosen their power over me, and begin to find my optimism. It's a practice... a work in progress... I get better at it the more I do it.

Tom and I have started our cancer support groups again (his for the caregiver and me, the patient). Our groups are next door to each other. I can sometimes hear him through the wall, and I know he hears me (my laugh is loud, and we do laugh). I  was in need of a community where there is sympathy but no time for dwelling on it. We tell our sad stories like AA introductions. "I'm Renee. I have stage 4 colon cancer which has spread to my liver. I was diagnosed in 2008." No one cries at the introduction. These are the facts. Crying comes when the patients talk of their spouses, children, caretakers  coping (children, caregivers) with our illness. 

We are awaiting some genetic test results to find out what the next plan on action is.  Is there another chemo option? Is there a clinical trial? Do I have liver surgery before or after chemo?  I have another scan at the beginning of April which will help determine the next step. We leave for Australia days later for my sister Juliet's wedding, the prospect of which makes the whole family excited. 

The kids are doing well despite our anxiety. Tom and I went on a field trip with Cole's class this week. I am trying to get out more... walk more... We took a long walk through Tilden Park with a determined park ranger, 16 4 and 5 year olds, and a displaced newt. 

 

Civil

I ventured out in the world today to accompany Adeline on her pre-school classes' field trip to the Mocha Children's Arts Museum. My mom drove and herded children. I got to sit back and enjoy as Adeline explained the finer points of Beach Boys' lyrics (Bom-Bom-dipty-dip) to 4 other 3 year old girls (two of whom are native French speakers).  

It was also the day that Cole was required to bring in 100 of something for his 100th day of Kindergarten. Despite my best efforts to dissuade him, he chose to bring 100 stuffed animals. We rounded up every last plush toy in our house (including ones I'd moved to the garage at Christmas time), exempting George and Adeline favorites, but we were still far short.  I brought out the musical Christmas toys. I pulled out the childhood animals of immortal status that neither Tom nor I have been able to ever give away (for which our children don't really care... not one can still be called plush).   I  even called Grandma. She scoured her  supplies and sent over as many she could find. After a final inspection, and a decisive rejection of a pink poodle and small doll in a red skirt, Cole went to school with two large garbage bags and 97 stuffed animals.

The word is he dumped them in the reading corner with his teacher's permission and dove in amongst then. Classmates followed suit, frolicking with a stuffed Darth Vader and a Jingle Bell singing cow. Bliss.

I had lunch out with my mom, but was back home by 1:30PM for a nap (how civil).  

George and Tom came home late due to baseball practice (Tom's a coach for the team). And after dinner, homework, and piano practice, the night is gone. "When do I just have time to read?" George yelled last week in frustration. He's been the most aware of what is going on with me because he listens closely to everyone. 

Now that the pain isn't so severe, and I'm not ruled by a constant stream of doctor's visits, I feel that I might be in a bit of denial. I guess the best thing to do is enjoy it while it lasts. 

Le Petit Chaperon Rouge

The morning began with a parade. Cole was celebrating pajama day. George was celebrating the play his class would perform, and Adeline was jazzed about going on BART with Babu. 

 Cole insisted on taking half of his room to pajama day... blankets and toys and pillows. Adeline demanded her butterfly dress for the fourth day in a row. George had to wear black pants because he was going to be the wolf in Le Petit Chaperon Rouge. He was most excited because in this version, the wolf wins (i.e. eats everyone). 

Tom, Babu, Adeline, and I went to see the play. We sat in little seats huddled around the kids' circle time area and watched 2 groups of George's classmates perform. George was a strapping wolf who enunciated his French well and was quite confident in the role of actor. Adeline threw her arms around his neck and claimed him after he bowed. She was proud and happy and wouldn't let go until the celebratory cookies came out.

I needed multiple naps. and medication that makes me walk leaning to the right. I'm hoping I will wake up with the fog lifted tomorrow.