Pilot
(spoilers)
I can't recall the last time a series had this much hype in front of it that didn't have anything to do with solving mysteries (medical, crime-related, or otherwise) or running from toasters-turned-sexpots.
So, expectations set to "failed to live up to the pre-release press," I fired up the TiVO this evening after putting the kids to bed and brushing the cats. And then I sat riveted for the next 42-odd minutes.
Damn, this was a fantastic episode. Yes, yes, the ending was rushed, but not to the point where you couldn't follow what was happening. By the time the Panthers won, I was completely sucked in, enjoying the fact that I wasn't sure if they would win, and even remarking to DH that I actually wanted them to win. In the space of less than 40 minutes, Friday Night Lights got me to care about its humongous cast and the town that seems to rely on football for hope and joy and all that is good in life.
I can well imagine some people will not like the style of this show, with its swirling, dipping camera work, and its quick cuts and fragmented dialog, but I loved it. It felt like a documentary, only with much better music. The emotions we saw were genuine, but best of all, the town was presented without editorial comment: we report, you decide, applied to a prime-time drama. Who would have thought it possible? Certainly not me.
Clearly, the writers not only understand but respect their characters, or at least they did here. There wasn't a hint of cynicism or snark in either the dialog or the direction. When the quarterback said, "Let's pray," it was clearly the most natural thing in the world to him, no matter how alien we may imagine that concept would be to the kind of people who typically write, produce, and star in television shows.
The question remains whether they can sustain this level of brutal narrative honesty and the twirling dance through all the many relationships without breaking down into parody or chaos. The task is to continue to reveal these characters and deepen their relationships without losing the respect that has already been established, and without betraying the characters as they have already been defined, even by the briefest scenes in this pilot.
I tuned in partly because of Kyle Chandler, and partly because of the good reviews. As of now, I'm in, and hoping they can sustain the level of brilliance we saw tonight. Because this show is a rarity -- perhaps becoming less so in this new era of well-made television, but still something worth noting: not only does it respect its characters, it respects its audience, too.
(If you missed it, you can watch the entire episode over at NBC.com; click on the link above.)
Tuesday, October 03, 2006
October's column
Chocolate Crinkle Cookies are featured in this month's edition of the Low Carb Luxury online magazine.
Even the kids liked these cookies, and liked them enough to ask me to make them again -- which doesn't happen often with my picky crew.
I've been wanting to make carrot cake lately -- especially since finding out that a cup of grated carrots has only 8 grams of carbohydrates, net of fiber. That's a bargain in my book. Also, any excuse for cream cheese frosting should be welcomed at all times.
Now if only I could work up the oomph to get into the kitchen and make it.
Monday, October 02, 2006
42 cookies later
(They were small cookies.) (Plus, that's just an estimate. It could've been less. Or more.)
I saw the surgeon today. He specializes in breast surgery so he did his own ultrasound and I got a better look at the lump consequently. It's 2cm+, which is close to an inch.
I went through the whole history with him, and he agrees it should come out. But even though we're taking it out, he did a needle biopsy anyway, using the ultrasound for guidance. It took about 5 seconds all told, which, given my past biopsy experiences, qualifies as miraculous, even though I am still a little sore.
Cytology (aka pathology) report should be back by the end of the week, he said. I don't believe it for a minute -- I believe he believes it, but I've never had a path report come back so quickly.
Surgery will be outpatient, and the whole thing, from admission to release, will take about four hours, sometime the week of October 23.
I called my mom to give her the update and we reviewed the cancer history in her family. Four of her sisters had breast cancer, and one had ovarian cancer. She herself didn't have cancer, but did have a precancerous mass removed which led to her getting her masectomy. It was one of those "given your history" decisions, much like the one I've made here.
The rest of the day is blur of children - homework - RE - dinner - homework - bedtime. I spent the last hour watching the pilot of Six Feet Under, which I had never seen before, on Bravo. Everyone seems almost normal in this episode, just wrecked because of Nate Sr's death. It's very cool to see the beginning already knowing the end.
Oh, yes: the cookies. They seemed to go well with 6FU and a cup of tea. Now this; bed soon, and more days and weeks of that dreadful treading water feeling, just trying to keep afloat here in the flow of life. I just want to get this particular medical episode defined: short term (lumpectomy, done), or longer term (lumpectomy, cancer, chemo-radiation-what?). It's not going to kill me, either way. It's the not-knowing that gets old very quickly.
Laugh of the day: got a bill from MDA for $29 and change. I'm sure there's another one coming, but it was sort of hilarious to get such a tiny bill for all the stuff they did to me last time I was there.
I saw the surgeon today. He specializes in breast surgery so he did his own ultrasound and I got a better look at the lump consequently. It's 2cm+, which is close to an inch.
I went through the whole history with him, and he agrees it should come out. But even though we're taking it out, he did a needle biopsy anyway, using the ultrasound for guidance. It took about 5 seconds all told, which, given my past biopsy experiences, qualifies as miraculous, even though I am still a little sore.
Cytology (aka pathology) report should be back by the end of the week, he said. I don't believe it for a minute -- I believe he believes it, but I've never had a path report come back so quickly.
Surgery will be outpatient, and the whole thing, from admission to release, will take about four hours, sometime the week of October 23.
I called my mom to give her the update and we reviewed the cancer history in her family. Four of her sisters had breast cancer, and one had ovarian cancer. She herself didn't have cancer, but did have a precancerous mass removed which led to her getting her masectomy. It was one of those "given your history" decisions, much like the one I've made here.
The rest of the day is blur of children - homework - RE - dinner - homework - bedtime. I spent the last hour watching the pilot of Six Feet Under, which I had never seen before, on Bravo. Everyone seems almost normal in this episode, just wrecked because of Nate Sr's death. It's very cool to see the beginning already knowing the end.
Oh, yes: the cookies. They seemed to go well with 6FU and a cup of tea. Now this; bed soon, and more days and weeks of that dreadful treading water feeling, just trying to keep afloat here in the flow of life. I just want to get this particular medical episode defined: short term (lumpectomy, done), or longer term (lumpectomy, cancer, chemo-radiation-what?). It's not going to kill me, either way. It's the not-knowing that gets old very quickly.
Laugh of the day: got a bill from MDA for $29 and change. I'm sure there's another one coming, but it was sort of hilarious to get such a tiny bill for all the stuff they did to me last time I was there.
fits and starts
That about sums it up, lately. I'm better than I was when I wrote that last post, but it comes and goes. On at least two occasions I have actually burst into tears but at least they're not the kind that I can't stop. (I hate that.)
I know I'm better because I cleaned the house today, things I had put off for way too long, that I am actually embarassed to admit how long they had been left undone. But now they're done and not weighing me down further, so that's good.
Friday typified the see-saw my life resembles lately. I had arranged to pick up my films (for my Monday morning appointment with the surgeon) at a local office. I called to confirm they had been sent; the local office didn't have them. I called the central office, and she swore they had been sent, but to the mammography center, which is a different office. That's OK.
I spent the afternoon over at school, and when we left, we headed over to the mammography center to pick up the films, but they were closed. Who closes at 3:00pm? OK, who that is not a bank? Please. Why did I not know they closed early? Fortunately they open at the crack of dawn so I can run over there early tomorrow and get the films, if they haven't sent them back because I failed to pick them up on Friday. (As you can see, I have a vivid imagination regarding potential screw ups.)
The whole day was like that: near-misses, things I forgot, things I should have known, things not being where they were supposed to be. But on the very same day I had a nice lunch with DH (I finally told him about the near-depression thing), and a nice outing with the kids to Borders, and the book I had ordered came in... for every thing that irked or irritated there was some upside. Nothing like getting jerked around all day... I didn't get anything done.
DS1 complained of headache Friday afternoon and by the evening was running a fever. That was the downside, the upside was discovering my pediatrician's office has Saturday and evening hours that I never knew about, so we were able to get the boy in on Saturday morning and onto an antibiotic (sinus infection, poor guy.) That was Saturday.
Today was a blur that started with making a big breakfast and then taking the boys for much-needed haircuts,and then later taking DD to buy shoes, which was a disaster. She hates everything, and wants pink shoes! Our problems are made worse by her very narrow feet; there are many styles which she literally cannot wear. I think the experience with her ("Never again," I vowed, "next time you're going shopping with Daddy.") gave me some energy because when DH took all three of them to buy cleats for soccer, I did not, for once, laze around doing nothing: I cleaned the house and started the laundry and all that.
And now I'm waiting for the last of the laundry to be out of the dryer, which is acting up again, but still works well for the most part. I'm happy for that. The past few months' medical expenses would've paid for a new washer and dryer -- it's a very good thing we don't need them.
I know I'm better because I cleaned the house today, things I had put off for way too long, that I am actually embarassed to admit how long they had been left undone. But now they're done and not weighing me down further, so that's good.
Friday typified the see-saw my life resembles lately. I had arranged to pick up my films (for my Monday morning appointment with the surgeon) at a local office. I called to confirm they had been sent; the local office didn't have them. I called the central office, and she swore they had been sent, but to the mammography center, which is a different office. That's OK.
I spent the afternoon over at school, and when we left, we headed over to the mammography center to pick up the films, but they were closed. Who closes at 3:00pm? OK, who that is not a bank? Please. Why did I not know they closed early? Fortunately they open at the crack of dawn so I can run over there early tomorrow and get the films, if they haven't sent them back because I failed to pick them up on Friday. (As you can see, I have a vivid imagination regarding potential screw ups.)
The whole day was like that: near-misses, things I forgot, things I should have known, things not being where they were supposed to be. But on the very same day I had a nice lunch with DH (I finally told him about the near-depression thing), and a nice outing with the kids to Borders, and the book I had ordered came in... for every thing that irked or irritated there was some upside. Nothing like getting jerked around all day... I didn't get anything done.
DS1 complained of headache Friday afternoon and by the evening was running a fever. That was the downside, the upside was discovering my pediatrician's office has Saturday and evening hours that I never knew about, so we were able to get the boy in on Saturday morning and onto an antibiotic (sinus infection, poor guy.) That was Saturday.
Today was a blur that started with making a big breakfast and then taking the boys for much-needed haircuts,and then later taking DD to buy shoes, which was a disaster. She hates everything, and wants pink shoes! Our problems are made worse by her very narrow feet; there are many styles which she literally cannot wear. I think the experience with her ("Never again," I vowed, "next time you're going shopping with Daddy.") gave me some energy because when DH took all three of them to buy cleats for soccer, I did not, for once, laze around doing nothing: I cleaned the house and started the laundry and all that.
And now I'm waiting for the last of the laundry to be out of the dryer, which is acting up again, but still works well for the most part. I'm happy for that. The past few months' medical expenses would've paid for a new washer and dryer -- it's a very good thing we don't need them.
Friday, September 29, 2006
by the skin of my teeth
Is there such a state as nearly depressed?
I feel like crying all the time, but so far haven't.
I feel like staying in bed all day, but so far I keep getting up.
I think, It will be nice when I'm dead and don't have to deal with this [censored] body anymore. But I know I'm not ready to give up yet, and I'll be damned if I'll let anyone else raise my kids, or leave it all for my husband to do himself. He's a good man, he deserves more than that.
I'm doing a good job faking it so far. Last night I tried to crawl out of the doldrums by crawling into the kitchen, and I made "a feast!" for dinner. Lots of things that everyone loves, which meant two hours of prep, which was fine. Keeping the hands busy helps a little. Keeping the brain busy (driving, reading) helps too.
But when I stop, it's still there and I wish there was a happy pill I could take to make it go away.
Too much pain (real physical pain that the Aleve takes the edge off but doesn't quite kill). And too many questions, some will be answered on Monday when I meet with the surgeon. Until then I'm just hanging on.
I feel like crying all the time, but so far haven't.
I feel like staying in bed all day, but so far I keep getting up.
I think, It will be nice when I'm dead and don't have to deal with this [censored] body anymore. But I know I'm not ready to give up yet, and I'll be damned if I'll let anyone else raise my kids, or leave it all for my husband to do himself. He's a good man, he deserves more than that.
I'm doing a good job faking it so far. Last night I tried to crawl out of the doldrums by crawling into the kitchen, and I made "a feast!" for dinner. Lots of things that everyone loves, which meant two hours of prep, which was fine. Keeping the hands busy helps a little. Keeping the brain busy (driving, reading) helps too.
But when I stop, it's still there and I wish there was a happy pill I could take to make it go away.
Too much pain (real physical pain that the Aleve takes the edge off but doesn't quite kill). And too many questions, some will be answered on Monday when I meet with the surgeon. Until then I'm just hanging on.
Wednesday, September 27, 2006
miles upon miles
I spent a lot of time driving today. The new doctor, the TMD -- tempero-mandibular disorder, thankyouverymuch, not TMJ -- doc, was all the way up in Cave Creek which is about 40 miles away. And this evening's thyca support group meeting was in its usual digs up past Shea Blvd, which is about 25 miles away. Plus, a trip to school to get the boys, ferry the boys to the Y, get DD from dance class, and then an extra trip to get DD's left-behind school clothes. Man, that was a lot of driving.
Today's advice: Do not get orthodontia when you have TMD-induced headaches.
I assured Dr. C that I wouldn't do that, since my teeth are fine. He scoffed at my retainer's ability to stave off TMD: So much for this as a bite guard. But it is a good retainer, though.
No, really, he said that. He also explained that for many people, wearing a retainer like mine is enough to get them to stop the clenching/grinding behavior that leads to TMD. For others, like me, the effect is temporary and they can return to their previous destructive behaviors. Well, mine lasted about 7 years, so I guess I oughtn't complain.
Dr. C is making an appliance for me to wear at night to keep me from grinding, I'll get it on Oct 11. Until then: heat, NSAIDS, and this nifty trick he showed me to fix the dislocation of the pad in my right jaw joint. Oh, and a return to my physical therapy exercises for my neck, since whacked muscles in my right neck (which I can't feel because of the nerve damage that occurred during my dissection surgery) are one of the main causes of all this... I should just resign myself to the fact that PT is for life.
I ran the Thyca support group tonight and it went well. We had 3 new people and plenty of time to hear their stories and answer their questions. I think I helped. I certainly talked a lot, but there was a lot of information to convey to the newbies. It surprised me how much I actually knew when I needed to talk about different topics -- and I was happy because we covered just about everything a newbie would want to know.
Finally got through to the GYN and discussed what's next re:the lump. They would've been OK with a core biopsy but when I said I wanted the lumpectomy they said OK. I called Dr. D's office and he can do it, I have an appointment Monday morning, and all the paperwork transfer is all set up for it. Here we go again?
I hope not.
Monday, September 25, 2006
next?
I'm spending most of tomorrow with a new doctor, one who will spend three hours -- his standard initial exam -- in diagnosing my TMJ.
Dr. O, my brilliant ENT, discovered the TMJ when I went to see him for what I thought was a persistent sinus infection. No, those headaches weren't sinus related, they were from the TMJ. And I thought my face was hurting because my salivary glands had gone haywire again. They had -- in fact, they are still misbehaving -- but the facial pain wasn't just because of whacked salivaries, this time.
The new doctor's office is the better part of an hour away, and I have to get there at least a half-hour early to complete the 15-page (!!!) medical history beforehand. I know that is pointless because I will spend a lot of time filling out a form and no one will read it; I will be forced to re-iterate every damn thing on it to the doctor, frittering away the first 15 minutes of the appointment. Personally, I can't listen faster than I can read, so why doctors always start out with "Tell me what's going on," when they already have the answer on paper in front of them, is beyond me. But that's the way it always seems to go, so I will be surprised if it goes otherwise. Perhaps I will rebel and say, Read the history, it'll be quicker, I'll wait until you're ready. There's an idea.
I'm not exactly afraid of this appointment, I just don't want him to find anything dreadful. I'm hoping for something on the order of Stop chewing gum and wear your retainer during the day until this settles down. I'm not sure exactly how I'll take it if he diagnoses me with some condition that needs invasive procedures to correct. I'm under attack from enough angles already.
Given a choice between surgery or living with my popping jaw-joints, I'd choose the popping jaw-joints, unless given a really, really compelling reason. I'm doing OK, my current status is quite manageable. So what horrible thing is going to happen if I don't aggressively treat this? Because aggressive treatment is right out... at least right now.
Sunday, September 24, 2006
rethink
My ISP has been having trouble with the server on which my account is hosted, so I was unable to post anything for several days. That's why Friday's post didn't show up until this morning. There's nothing like having news and not being able to put it up to foster frustration.
Friday, the lump news more or less bounced off me: That lump has been there forever. The radiologist said it looks "very benign."
But... Saturday I had a long talk with my older sister, who has experienced the dreaded lump herself (benign, thank God). When she heard it was solid, her take was: It needs to come out.
When she said it, I realized she was right. Why screw around with a needle biopsy?
Perhaps my doctors will think differently, but even though it's a more invasive procedure, it will give me a 100% certain answer as to what's going on in there, something a negative biopsy can never do. If it's negative, that just means there wasn't any cancer in the sample, which may or may not be representative of the whole.
There doesn't seem to be much information out there on distinguishing benign lumps from malignant lumps. I found information so general it approached vague, but I didn't find any stats for comfort. With thyroid cancer, you have happy little numbers like "more than 95% of all thyroid nodules are benign." On the breast cancer information pages I found, no such stats. Is it because they don't exist or because people don't want to talk about them?
Generally they all talk about diagnostic options -- mammogram, ultrasound, MRI, and the various types of biopsies. More general information: solid lumps are bad; big lumps are worse than small lumps; lumps that are afixed to bone or muscle are suspect; lumps with irregular borders are bad, too.
I was looking right at the ultrasound monitor when the radiologist zoomed in on the lump to measure it, but I didn't see how big it is -- 1 cm would not surprise me. It seemed to have smooth borders, but I can't remember how it looked on the zoomed-in image. And it was completely black: totally solid. That was odd to see. I've seen a lot of nodes on my thyroid u/s, and never seen anything like that solid black lump.
There wasn't any vascularization under the Doppler, but the radiologist told me that it is not dispositive in viewing breast tissue the way it is in viewing structures in the neck, because the structure of the tissue is so different.
I have some of the other indicators of something-going-on, too: change in the shape and size of my breast, and changes in the nipple area, too. Nothing too startling, in fact quite subtle and I'm probably the only one who would be able to tell, but there they are.
The happy-think from Friday -- It looks really benign -- is being spun through the "Well, of course she'd say that, I told her it had been there forever" routine, along with Maybe this hasn't been there forever, after all. Now, the thought is not so happy.
I don't feel like I'm freaking out, but my TMJ is still killing me. I ran out of Prilosec late last week and thought I'd see how I did without it. The Aleve I was taking for the TMJ, combined with the stress and lack of acid-reducer, chewed a hole in my stomach on Friday and everything has been off since.
Tomorrow I get my permanent filling for the root canal, and Tuesday I see the TMJ doctor. Sometime soon I need to talk to my GYN and decide what to do about the lump, and figure out when to do it.
I had a feeling, some years ago, very similar to the experience I had before my uterine prolapse (I'll never use all these up when stocking up on menstrual supplies -- I was right, I didn't.) One day when I was annoyed about something breast-related (most likely the difficulty in finding a decent comfortable bra), the thought was just there: It will be so much easier when I don't have to deal with these anymore. Not "this," as in shopping for a bra, but "these", as in the breasts themselves.
At the time I shook it off, and even now I don't put any stock in it at all. But at the same time it wouldn't surprise me if I did lose them.
When I talked to my sister, we had some very good laughs (because if you don't laugh, you'll cry) -- she thought my "warranty expired on my 39th birthday" line was a great one, and we both laughed at my vanity when I told her I was really enjoying my long hair now, and if I have to have chemo and my hair falls out, I will be really ticked off. You see? Already, I'm steeling myself for that particular journey. I don't know whether that's pathetic or what.
Hope for the best, prepare for the worst -- avoid surprises.
We haven't said a word to the kids about this. I'm hoping there won't be anything to tell in the long run. And if there is, if I do have another cancer and need more treatment, then these last days of carefree bliss are a gift I wish I could give to myself.
Friday, the lump news more or less bounced off me: That lump has been there forever. The radiologist said it looks "very benign."
But... Saturday I had a long talk with my older sister, who has experienced the dreaded lump herself (benign, thank God). When she heard it was solid, her take was: It needs to come out.
When she said it, I realized she was right. Why screw around with a needle biopsy?
Perhaps my doctors will think differently, but even though it's a more invasive procedure, it will give me a 100% certain answer as to what's going on in there, something a negative biopsy can never do. If it's negative, that just means there wasn't any cancer in the sample, which may or may not be representative of the whole.
There doesn't seem to be much information out there on distinguishing benign lumps from malignant lumps. I found information so general it approached vague, but I didn't find any stats for comfort. With thyroid cancer, you have happy little numbers like "more than 95% of all thyroid nodules are benign." On the breast cancer information pages I found, no such stats. Is it because they don't exist or because people don't want to talk about them?
Generally they all talk about diagnostic options -- mammogram, ultrasound, MRI, and the various types of biopsies. More general information: solid lumps are bad; big lumps are worse than small lumps; lumps that are afixed to bone or muscle are suspect; lumps with irregular borders are bad, too.
I was looking right at the ultrasound monitor when the radiologist zoomed in on the lump to measure it, but I didn't see how big it is -- 1 cm would not surprise me. It seemed to have smooth borders, but I can't remember how it looked on the zoomed-in image. And it was completely black: totally solid. That was odd to see. I've seen a lot of nodes on my thyroid u/s, and never seen anything like that solid black lump.
There wasn't any vascularization under the Doppler, but the radiologist told me that it is not dispositive in viewing breast tissue the way it is in viewing structures in the neck, because the structure of the tissue is so different.
I have some of the other indicators of something-going-on, too: change in the shape and size of my breast, and changes in the nipple area, too. Nothing too startling, in fact quite subtle and I'm probably the only one who would be able to tell, but there they are.
The happy-think from Friday -- It looks really benign -- is being spun through the "Well, of course she'd say that, I told her it had been there forever" routine, along with Maybe this hasn't been there forever, after all. Now, the thought is not so happy.
I don't feel like I'm freaking out, but my TMJ is still killing me. I ran out of Prilosec late last week and thought I'd see how I did without it. The Aleve I was taking for the TMJ, combined with the stress and lack of acid-reducer, chewed a hole in my stomach on Friday and everything has been off since.
Tomorrow I get my permanent filling for the root canal, and Tuesday I see the TMJ doctor. Sometime soon I need to talk to my GYN and decide what to do about the lump, and figure out when to do it.
I had a feeling, some years ago, very similar to the experience I had before my uterine prolapse (I'll never use all these up when stocking up on menstrual supplies -- I was right, I didn't.) One day when I was annoyed about something breast-related (most likely the difficulty in finding a decent comfortable bra), the thought was just there: It will be so much easier when I don't have to deal with these anymore. Not "this," as in shopping for a bra, but "these", as in the breasts themselves.
At the time I shook it off, and even now I don't put any stock in it at all. But at the same time it wouldn't surprise me if I did lose them.
When I talked to my sister, we had some very good laughs (because if you don't laugh, you'll cry) -- she thought my "warranty expired on my 39th birthday" line was a great one, and we both laughed at my vanity when I told her I was really enjoying my long hair now, and if I have to have chemo and my hair falls out, I will be really ticked off. You see? Already, I'm steeling myself for that particular journey. I don't know whether that's pathetic or what.
Hope for the best, prepare for the worst -- avoid surprises.
We haven't said a word to the kids about this. I'm hoping there won't be anything to tell in the long run. And if there is, if I do have another cancer and need more treatment, then these last days of carefree bliss are a gift I wish I could give to myself.
Friday, September 22, 2006
lump
I had my first-ever diagnostic mammogram today. Apparently this involves both the squishy-squashy x-rays of the breasts, flattened like last season's discarded purses, in a machine that is simultaneously ripping the tissue from armpit and ribcage, and breast ultrasound.
The x-rays were unremarkable and show no changes from my previous mammograms. That's good.
During the ultrasound, the radiologist found a lump. I knew it was there, it has been there forever, and no doctor has ever remarked on it during an exam, and it has never shown up on a mammogram. I figured it was just part of my usual lumpy-tissued breast.
On the u/s, though, it showed up quite definitely as a dense mass, quite solid, and not tiny, either. Hmmm.
The radiologist said it wouldn't show up on an x-ray because it's in the midst of some very dense tissue. She recommended either a u/s guided needle biopsy (I think this is the same as a core biopsy), lumpectomy, or diagnostic u/s every 6 months for the next 2 years. Given my thyroid cancer history, she recommends having it biopsied, so I'll schedule that when the doctor's office gets back to me with a reference.
I suppose I should be freaking out about this, but I have worry fatigue. I've spent too much time worrying about too many things, and frankly, my life is great even if I have had to deal with a lot of health issues -- so you know what? I'm not flipping out about this (at least, not now). The radiologist said it looked benign, so we'll go with that for now.
The biopsy will hurt, and then I'll wait around for a week or so with a weight on me, until the results come back, and then I'll either relax or gear up for another long slog through medical hell. Whatever. I'm too busy to curl up and whimper about yet-another-thing going wrong with my body, which apparently took my lame jokes about my warranty expiring on my 39th birthday quite seriously.
It was supposed to be a joke...
The x-rays were unremarkable and show no changes from my previous mammograms. That's good.
During the ultrasound, the radiologist found a lump. I knew it was there, it has been there forever, and no doctor has ever remarked on it during an exam, and it has never shown up on a mammogram. I figured it was just part of my usual lumpy-tissued breast.
On the u/s, though, it showed up quite definitely as a dense mass, quite solid, and not tiny, either. Hmmm.
The radiologist said it wouldn't show up on an x-ray because it's in the midst of some very dense tissue. She recommended either a u/s guided needle biopsy (I think this is the same as a core biopsy), lumpectomy, or diagnostic u/s every 6 months for the next 2 years. Given my thyroid cancer history, she recommends having it biopsied, so I'll schedule that when the doctor's office gets back to me with a reference.
I suppose I should be freaking out about this, but I have worry fatigue. I've spent too much time worrying about too many things, and frankly, my life is great even if I have had to deal with a lot of health issues -- so you know what? I'm not flipping out about this (at least, not now). The radiologist said it looked benign, so we'll go with that for now.
The biopsy will hurt, and then I'll wait around for a week or so with a weight on me, until the results come back, and then I'll either relax or gear up for another long slog through medical hell. Whatever. I'm too busy to curl up and whimper about yet-another-thing going wrong with my body, which apparently took my lame jokes about my warranty expiring on my 39th birthday quite seriously.
It was supposed to be a joke...
Tuesday, September 19, 2006
buckle up
I had a root canal this morning. My one remaining intact anterior (front) lower incisor, seen above surrounded by its fallen comrades, finally gave up the ghost.
Anyone accustomed to seeing a mouth like this will immediately recognize what's going on here. For those not so accustomed, let me aquaint you with the long-term effects of trauma.
A bit more than thirty years ago, I was in a car accident. Since the early 1970s was in The Time Before Seatbelts, I was a 10-year-old girl sitting, without any kind of restraint, in the front passenger seat during a moderate-to-low speed collision. (Looking back, I'd say we couldn't have been going even 30MPH.) I don't really remember it, although reportedly, I screamed a lot afterwards.
Personally, I think I had good reason to scream, since my head cracked the windshield, and my chin made a dent in the dashboard. I'd had braces for less than a year at that point. I recall a bruise the size of an Italian plum on my jaw. The only treatment I recall is getting some ice to put on that bruise. (Again, a trautamized 10-year-old is not the most reliable witness, so it's possible that medical people did all kinds of tests on me and I just don't remember.)
Later, my dentist x-rayed my lower jaw and saw that there was a hairline crack right in front. Since I already had braces, there wasn't any need to do anything else -- the braces kept everything locked in position, and everything seemed OK.
Until about 20 years ago, when the first tooth died, and I needed a root canal. My dentist asked me about trauma, since there was no sign of neglect or decay. I was ready to deny it when I remembered the car accident; I was in my mid-twenties at the time and had not thought about it for years -- there wasn't any reason to. I'm sure that's it, the dentist said. He warned me that there was a good chance the teeth would all die eventually.
I wanted to brush this warning off as alarmist nonsense (not to mention the hope of snagging more business from me), but Dr W was a fantastic dentist, and he wouldn't manipulate me like that.
It became apparent that he was right when the second tooth died not long after. We attempted another root canal but couldn't do it because there was too much calcification, so I ended up having an apeco -- that's gum surgery, that little bright spot below the tooth on the left.
I can't really remember when the third tooth went, but it was sometime in the last 10 years -- but for the past 20 I've been alert to twinges in the area, and my dentist takes a good long look at that area every year. For the longest time, everything held steady, and I thought we were done.
No such luck -- the last tooth kicked off, and kicked up. It tough when you have TMJ to determine if the tooth ache is a real tooth ache or an artifact of the TMJ-producing teeth grinding. Alas, this was a real tooth ache, and now all my lower incisors are dead.
There is an upside here: I've been able to keep the teeth, and because there was no decay or bone infections, I haven't even needed crowns. They are very tiny teeth, so a filling suffices. I know, this seems like grasping at straws, but these are not insignificant factors. The root canal procedure was over $600, and I'm not sure how much the permanent filling is going to cost me (the endodontist just put in a temporary one.) A crown or cap wouldn't be cheap, I know.
The other upside is that root canal tech has shown tremendous advances in the past 20 years. My endodontist today, working under a microscope,identified a second nerve channel that needed to be cleaned out. His facility also had the most kick-ass digital dental x-ray system I've ever seen. That gadget alone saved us at least 30 minutes today, as x-rays are taken before, during, and after the procedure to make sure that the doc "got it all."
The only unpleasant parts were the anesthesia, not because it hurt going in (it does sting a little), but because it left me strangely shaky for about 15 minutes, and the horrid smell of tooth and bone being ground away. The doc assured me that my reaction to the anesthesia is not uncommon, so I didn't worry about it, and it did dissipate eventually. The grinding bone smell was over quickly, and the assistant was fabulous with the vaccuum so debris didn't go flying all over the place.
I'm glad it's done, and I think my canines will be spared, but who knows? I thought after more than 30 years if anything was going to happen, it would have happened already. I was wrong.
So do yourself a favor and wear your seatbelt, OK? Nobody needs root canals.
Monday, September 18, 2006
once again, classic sf provides a solution
Via Assymetrical Information comes this Discover article on just how Earth-bound we may be as a species, because of the damage caused by cosmic rays.
Planetside, here, we're protected by the Earth's magnetic field, but out in space, we don't have that gigantic damping field. Metal shields made of lead or iron turn out to make the problem worse, because when cosmic rays collide with them, they release a cascade of charged particles that can cause the same kind of damage as the cosmic rays themselves.
In 1950, brilliant science fiction writer Cordwainer Smith wrote a haunting short story, Scanners Live in Vain, which all hinged on the fact that traveling through space caused irreversible dementia -- much like the kind of brain damage the article discusses as a distinct possibility.
I wonder if Adam Stone's solution to the problem in "Scanners" could work for us? It's certainly worth looking into. I'm sure the oysters won't mind.
Planetside, here, we're protected by the Earth's magnetic field, but out in space, we don't have that gigantic damping field. Metal shields made of lead or iron turn out to make the problem worse, because when cosmic rays collide with them, they release a cascade of charged particles that can cause the same kind of damage as the cosmic rays themselves.
In 1950, brilliant science fiction writer Cordwainer Smith wrote a haunting short story, Scanners Live in Vain, which all hinged on the fact that traveling through space caused irreversible dementia -- much like the kind of brain damage the article discusses as a distinct possibility.
I wonder if Adam Stone's solution to the problem in "Scanners" could work for us? It's certainly worth looking into. I'm sure the oysters won't mind.
tu quoque, eh?
Every so often, an obscure, rarely-heard expression appears in a prominent blog, and then suddenly, it's everywhere.
This week's example, tu quoque. I'm not sure whether I saw it first over on Althouse in comments, or somewhere else, but it's certainly making the rounds -- I even heard it on Rush this morning.
It's a useful expression, but not one I remember hearing before this past week. In online discussions, you'll often see tu quoque arguments lobbed when one party is pressing for a reasoned answer, and the other party has none: Well, you don't have any right to accuse me of X, because you've done Y!
Tu quoque arguments are more subtle than ad hominem attacks, because usually the target feels compelled to defend himself either against the charge that he's done Y, or whether Y is even anything to be ashamed of. The best thing to do if you find yourself in a tu quoque confrontration is to call attention to it: quit trying to change the subject!
This week's example, tu quoque. I'm not sure whether I saw it first over on Althouse in comments, or somewhere else, but it's certainly making the rounds -- I even heard it on Rush this morning.
It's a useful expression, but not one I remember hearing before this past week. In online discussions, you'll often see tu quoque arguments lobbed when one party is pressing for a reasoned answer, and the other party has none: Well, you don't have any right to accuse me of X, because you've done Y!
Tu quoque arguments are more subtle than ad hominem attacks, because usually the target feels compelled to defend himself either against the charge that he's done Y, or whether Y is even anything to be ashamed of. The best thing to do if you find yourself in a tu quoque confrontration is to call attention to it: quit trying to change the subject!
Friday, September 15, 2006
the lure of the dark side
One of my daily routines is checking several online job-hunting sites for suitable freelance opportunities -- it's easy in Firefox, I have a "job search" folder that I open in tabs, and I scan any new jobs that have been posted since I last checked. One site I particularly like is SheKnows.com, which has tools for slicing and dicing the search results in different ways.
Generally I search for writing jobs, or I just look in the "writing/editing" section of the site. Even though I have 15 years of experience in software applications development, I don't look at the software jobs. I have said, as recently as this week, that no one could pay me enough to get back into that world of socially dysfunctional types who still order their personal lives along the lines we all used in junior high school.
For some reason, I clicked on the "development" link in SheKnows and saw an ad for Visual Basic programmer, contract basis, paying $35-$40 per hour.
Now that is a boatload of money. Of course I haven't worked in VB for many years, but that language is a piece of cake. I'm thinking, Hmmmm, maybe I could take a refresher course in VB and then get a part-time contract, maybe that wouldn't be so bad, and I'd be making really good money..."
Aaaauuuggghhhhh!
I love, love, love working with the kids at school. But the reality is, if I work as a substitute, I'd earn at most $100/day, clearing significantly less than that after taxes. If I got a job as a part-time teacher's aide, I'd probably make on the order of $10-12K per year. Frankly, that's pathetic. To make the jump to full-fledged teacher, I'd have to spend at least a year and significant money to get my teacher's certification and/or education degree. And being a teacher myself, I wouldn't have any flexibility at all: the school determines the work schedule, whether or not the kids get sick. I don't think that's a viable option for now. Elementary school children will reliably get stay-at-home-for-a-week sick at least a couple of times per year.
Way back when, I enjoyed writing code. But I found that writing code depleted my creative energies. When I did it full time, I had nothing left over for writing or cooking or anything else, really. Clearly I couldn't do that again. I'd only want to work at most 20 hours a week, and I want flexibility to be a regular presence in the kids' classrooms, and to go on field trips and stuff like that. The thing is, I think there may be jobs out there like this. I obviously won't take a job that doesn't work for me, no matter how good the money is.
These aren't the only two choices, obviously. I have a significant body of writing that needs organization and publication, but I'm cowed by the sheer volume of it all. I'm afraid to even start it because before I even begin, I'm already in the weeds, and having a hard time seeing my way out. I know if I made plan, it would help, but I don't even have the motivation to do that, mostly because my confidence in my work is at an ebb right now, so I'm thinking, what's the point?
Anyway, the thought of making really good money doing something it's possible to enjoy is appealing. The money would definitely help the family, it would be wonderful to pay off the mortgage a little more quickly, or put in those hardwood floors we'd like. But I know in the long run that the only contribution I'm making when I'm writing code is economic, and I've already felt how much more satisfying it is to do something that directly and positively impacts others. How do I weigh the benefits to my family against the benefits to all the children I can help at school? Yes, my family is more important to me, and there's no pressure on me to bring in any money at all... but there's a moral component to this question that I need to mull.
The Dark Side is calling... but I haven't decided whether or not I'll even pick up the phone.
Generally I search for writing jobs, or I just look in the "writing/editing" section of the site. Even though I have 15 years of experience in software applications development, I don't look at the software jobs. I have said, as recently as this week, that no one could pay me enough to get back into that world of socially dysfunctional types who still order their personal lives along the lines we all used in junior high school.
For some reason, I clicked on the "development" link in SheKnows and saw an ad for Visual Basic programmer, contract basis, paying $35-$40 per hour.
Now that is a boatload of money. Of course I haven't worked in VB for many years, but that language is a piece of cake. I'm thinking, Hmmmm, maybe I could take a refresher course in VB and then get a part-time contract, maybe that wouldn't be so bad, and I'd be making really good money..."
Aaaauuuggghhhhh!
I love, love, love working with the kids at school. But the reality is, if I work as a substitute, I'd earn at most $100/day, clearing significantly less than that after taxes. If I got a job as a part-time teacher's aide, I'd probably make on the order of $10-12K per year. Frankly, that's pathetic. To make the jump to full-fledged teacher, I'd have to spend at least a year and significant money to get my teacher's certification and/or education degree. And being a teacher myself, I wouldn't have any flexibility at all: the school determines the work schedule, whether or not the kids get sick. I don't think that's a viable option for now. Elementary school children will reliably get stay-at-home-for-a-week sick at least a couple of times per year.
Way back when, I enjoyed writing code. But I found that writing code depleted my creative energies. When I did it full time, I had nothing left over for writing or cooking or anything else, really. Clearly I couldn't do that again. I'd only want to work at most 20 hours a week, and I want flexibility to be a regular presence in the kids' classrooms, and to go on field trips and stuff like that. The thing is, I think there may be jobs out there like this. I obviously won't take a job that doesn't work for me, no matter how good the money is.
These aren't the only two choices, obviously. I have a significant body of writing that needs organization and publication, but I'm cowed by the sheer volume of it all. I'm afraid to even start it because before I even begin, I'm already in the weeds, and having a hard time seeing my way out. I know if I made plan, it would help, but I don't even have the motivation to do that, mostly because my confidence in my work is at an ebb right now, so I'm thinking, what's the point?
Anyway, the thought of making really good money doing something it's possible to enjoy is appealing. The money would definitely help the family, it would be wonderful to pay off the mortgage a little more quickly, or put in those hardwood floors we'd like. But I know in the long run that the only contribution I'm making when I'm writing code is economic, and I've already felt how much more satisfying it is to do something that directly and positively impacts others. How do I weigh the benefits to my family against the benefits to all the children I can help at school? Yes, my family is more important to me, and there's no pressure on me to bring in any money at all... but there's a moral component to this question that I need to mull.
The Dark Side is calling... but I haven't decided whether or not I'll even pick up the phone.
a glimpse of greatness?
Ah, the cruel excitement of possibility...
Via an item on AICN (I won't bother linking to the actual item, it was incoherent) comes a link to the trailer for Eragon (audio at link), due out at Christmas.
I've read the books, and they were OK, not great, but not horrible either. That said, the potential for cinematic glory is huge here. From the trailer, the look of this thing is spot-on, and it appears that John Malkovich will make the evil of Galbatorix more palpable throughout the film -- in the books, his influence comes and goes. In the visual medium, you can convey the sense of constant oppression more easily, I think. (Prose tends to bog down when you have to keep reminding the reader just how horrible the times are.)
I'll remain positive about this, and will in fact go see it even if it gets mediocre reviews. I just want it to work for the sheer joy of it. For now, even the potential it's showing is enough to give this day a boost.
Via an item on AICN (I won't bother linking to the actual item, it was incoherent) comes a link to the trailer for Eragon (audio at link), due out at Christmas.
I've read the books, and they were OK, not great, but not horrible either. That said, the potential for cinematic glory is huge here. From the trailer, the look of this thing is spot-on, and it appears that John Malkovich will make the evil of Galbatorix more palpable throughout the film -- in the books, his influence comes and goes. In the visual medium, you can convey the sense of constant oppression more easily, I think. (Prose tends to bog down when you have to keep reminding the reader just how horrible the times are.)
I'll remain positive about this, and will in fact go see it even if it gets mediocre reviews. I just want it to work for the sheer joy of it. For now, even the potential it's showing is enough to give this day a boost.
Thursday, September 14, 2006
the swirling vortex of medical care
Ah, September, when the kids are in school and I spend the month in doctor's offices. Just when I want to kick back and relax, I am sucked back into MedWorld by having to run the annual cancer test gauntlet.
This year, the thyroid cancer checkup was a little earlier, and in Houston. Both the ultrasound and the nuclear scan were negative, but my tumor marker, Thyroglublin (Tg), did uptick a bit -- so we'll keep an eye on it. Amusingly, I just received my schedule for appointments in August 2007. Efficient!
I had my dilated eye exam, which went fine as usual. (The idea of developing melanoma behind an eye is really too creepy to contemplate.) My eye doctor was as shocked as I was that an entire year had gone by. He was happy to hear I was just there for a checkup and not for a problem -- "Why is she back so soon, didn't I just see her?" My eyes continue to perform better-than-average, which is such a blessing.
Next up, I saw Dr. T, my dermatologist, who didn't find any spots that needed biopsy or even extra monitoring -- don't have to see him for another six months. He didn't chide me for being tan, either.
The only remaining test is my mammogram. I had my annual GYN exam this week and complained about my breasts feeling pre-menstrual all the time, for a good six weeks now. I expected to hear, "Oh, that's hormonal, and normal at this phase of your life." Well, I did hear that, but with regard to the inordinate amount of hair I seem to be losing these days. Shedding, I am, but apparently, that's normal.
Apparently it's not-so-normal to have PMS breasts for six weeks running, and with my family history (not to mention being left-handed and having thyroid cancer), the doc ordered up a diagnostic mammagram wherein they take a lot more pictures. Oh, joy. Even better? The facility couldn't schedule me for the test until November 2, which means I get to walk around wondering what's going on there. One possibility is fibrocystic breast condition, which at least one of my sisters has (I think, I have to call and ask.)
But that's not all... I dragged myself to the dentist yesterday because one of my lower incisors has been nagging me for a while. I'm scheduled for a cleaning in a couple of weeks, but I didn't want to wait that long. It wasn't just the tooth that's bothering me, either: I saw Dr. O, my ENT, last week for the persistent sinus infection/sinus headaches I've been having. Lo and behold, I've got a pretty severe case of TMJ which may be causing both the tooth pain and the headaches. (Two nights ago, I felt like someone was driving a nail into my skull at the point between my right eye and the bridge of my nose.) Dentist confirms there's something going on there with the tooth, so I'm scheduled for a root canal next week with the fancy-schmancy endodontist. And the week after that, I get to see the TMJ specialist guy.
The TMJ pain was hard for me to recognize as joint pain, because my salivary glands have been acting up: my face hurts, and it's not easy to tell whether it's the salivaries that are swollen and clogged, or the jaw muscles right behind them that have stiffened up. I wear my retainer, which has a bite guard in it, every single night, so I don't know how I ended up in this condition. (I had it once in college, and I had it again before DD was born, which led me to getting braces - again - and now having the retainer.) I wonder if the whackiness of the salivary glands is contributing to the TMJ pain. I doubt there is any way to get an answer to this question.
Last: poor Alice has been coughing and sneezing, and Cooper needed his vaccinations, so we took both kittens to the vet yesterday. Now Alice is on anti-biotics. How odd that all three females in the house would be on anti-biotics at the same time for more or less the same thing.
This looks a lot worse in print than it is in reality. Yes, my face hurts a little (about 4 on that 1-10 pain scale), and my tooth is about a 2-3, but I'm used to that level of pain and have been dealing with it. The breasts are about a 3, also. So you see, none of this is remotely disabling. It's all just annoying and a little tiring. Fortunately, the mega dose of naproxen sodium that Dr. O prescribed for me is doing a good job of keeping the pain, if not completely manageable, at least at a level I can ignore most of the time.
In the meantime, I just pretend that it's not there. I've spent a lot of time over at the school helping out, and I love it. I finally have my stuff together to get my fingerprint card (getting my fingerprints taken was interesting), but I haven't mailed it in yet . The process of getting certified as a substitute teacher is a bit unweildy, but I'm procrastinating nevertheless. I uncertain I could last a whole school day, managing a class full of kids I don't know. One reason I've been spending so much time over at the school is I'm trying to build up my stamina. It's time to get back in shape.
This year, the thyroid cancer checkup was a little earlier, and in Houston. Both the ultrasound and the nuclear scan were negative, but my tumor marker, Thyroglublin (Tg), did uptick a bit -- so we'll keep an eye on it. Amusingly, I just received my schedule for appointments in August 2007. Efficient!
I had my dilated eye exam, which went fine as usual. (The idea of developing melanoma behind an eye is really too creepy to contemplate.) My eye doctor was as shocked as I was that an entire year had gone by. He was happy to hear I was just there for a checkup and not for a problem -- "Why is she back so soon, didn't I just see her?" My eyes continue to perform better-than-average, which is such a blessing.
Next up, I saw Dr. T, my dermatologist, who didn't find any spots that needed biopsy or even extra monitoring -- don't have to see him for another six months. He didn't chide me for being tan, either.
The only remaining test is my mammogram. I had my annual GYN exam this week and complained about my breasts feeling pre-menstrual all the time, for a good six weeks now. I expected to hear, "Oh, that's hormonal, and normal at this phase of your life." Well, I did hear that, but with regard to the inordinate amount of hair I seem to be losing these days. Shedding, I am, but apparently, that's normal.
Apparently it's not-so-normal to have PMS breasts for six weeks running, and with my family history (not to mention being left-handed and having thyroid cancer), the doc ordered up a diagnostic mammagram wherein they take a lot more pictures. Oh, joy. Even better? The facility couldn't schedule me for the test until November 2, which means I get to walk around wondering what's going on there. One possibility is fibrocystic breast condition, which at least one of my sisters has (I think, I have to call and ask.)
But that's not all... I dragged myself to the dentist yesterday because one of my lower incisors has been nagging me for a while. I'm scheduled for a cleaning in a couple of weeks, but I didn't want to wait that long. It wasn't just the tooth that's bothering me, either: I saw Dr. O, my ENT, last week for the persistent sinus infection/sinus headaches I've been having. Lo and behold, I've got a pretty severe case of TMJ which may be causing both the tooth pain and the headaches. (Two nights ago, I felt like someone was driving a nail into my skull at the point between my right eye and the bridge of my nose.) Dentist confirms there's something going on there with the tooth, so I'm scheduled for a root canal next week with the fancy-schmancy endodontist. And the week after that, I get to see the TMJ specialist guy.
The TMJ pain was hard for me to recognize as joint pain, because my salivary glands have been acting up: my face hurts, and it's not easy to tell whether it's the salivaries that are swollen and clogged, or the jaw muscles right behind them that have stiffened up. I wear my retainer, which has a bite guard in it, every single night, so I don't know how I ended up in this condition. (I had it once in college, and I had it again before DD was born, which led me to getting braces - again - and now having the retainer.) I wonder if the whackiness of the salivary glands is contributing to the TMJ pain. I doubt there is any way to get an answer to this question.
Last: poor Alice has been coughing and sneezing, and Cooper needed his vaccinations, so we took both kittens to the vet yesterday. Now Alice is on anti-biotics. How odd that all three females in the house would be on anti-biotics at the same time for more or less the same thing.
This looks a lot worse in print than it is in reality. Yes, my face hurts a little (about 4 on that 1-10 pain scale), and my tooth is about a 2-3, but I'm used to that level of pain and have been dealing with it. The breasts are about a 3, also. So you see, none of this is remotely disabling. It's all just annoying and a little tiring. Fortunately, the mega dose of naproxen sodium that Dr. O prescribed for me is doing a good job of keeping the pain, if not completely manageable, at least at a level I can ignore most of the time.
In the meantime, I just pretend that it's not there. I've spent a lot of time over at the school helping out, and I love it. I finally have my stuff together to get my fingerprint card (getting my fingerprints taken was interesting), but I haven't mailed it in yet . The process of getting certified as a substitute teacher is a bit unweildy, but I'm procrastinating nevertheless. I uncertain I could last a whole school day, managing a class full of kids I don't know. One reason I've been spending so much time over at the school is I'm trying to build up my stamina. It's time to get back in shape.
Monday, September 11, 2006
kittens: four state machines
How do kittens spend their days?
Occasionally, they play, with each other, or with a human:
About 2% of the time
Another favorite activity is lounging:
Surprisingly, they often lounge together
This chair provides an excellent vantage point from which to keep an eye on the computer... and me.
Then, there's cuddling.
Alice likes to snuggle face-to-face.
Yes, two kittens fit in one lap.
Cooper stakes out some Mom real estate, too.
Mostly, they sleep... a lot. I'd estimate about 80% of the time, no joke.
Alice likes the tangle of wires behind the computer.
Cooper favors the crow's nest of the kitty condo by the window.
Occasionally, they play, with each other, or with a human:
About 2% of the timeAnother favorite activity is lounging:
Surprisingly, they often lounge together
This chair provides an excellent vantage point from which to keep an eye on the computer... and me.Then, there's cuddling.
Alice likes to snuggle face-to-face.
Yes, two kittens fit in one lap.
Cooper stakes out some Mom real estate, too.Mostly, they sleep... a lot. I'd estimate about 80% of the time, no joke.
Alice likes the tangle of wires behind the computer.
Cooper favors the crow's nest of the kitty condo by the window.
what am I doing?
That business about time flying, having fun, etc? I don't think it's true. Time flies, faster and faster, the older you get, whether or not you're having fun.
Anyway, since we brought the kittens home, my time has been consumed with a million things. I've volunteered to help out at the kids' R/E on Monday nights, and I've agreed to chair the next thyca support meeting since our facilitator will be out of town. And I've been helping out at school, too: DS2's teacher is out for a couple of weeks, and the sub can use all the help she can get. Add in the usual groceries, laundry, and housekeeping -- not to mention time spent socializing the kittens -- and there you have it.
It's not that nothing "bloggable" has happend, it's that too much has happened, and so I let it go without writing about it. But we're getting into the school-year groove, so eventually I should find a regular time to write.
Anyway, since we brought the kittens home, my time has been consumed with a million things. I've volunteered to help out at the kids' R/E on Monday nights, and I've agreed to chair the next thyca support meeting since our facilitator will be out of town. And I've been helping out at school, too: DS2's teacher is out for a couple of weeks, and the sub can use all the help she can get. Add in the usual groceries, laundry, and housekeeping -- not to mention time spent socializing the kittens -- and there you have it.
It's not that nothing "bloggable" has happend, it's that too much has happened, and so I let it go without writing about it. But we're getting into the school-year groove, so eventually I should find a regular time to write.
Saturday, September 02, 2006
Car Trek: The Quest for Kittens
Scene: airport, baggage claim area, very crowded.
Mom is met by Dad, DS1, DD, and DS2. The children all hug Mom, who leans over to get a kiss from Dad.
MOM: Oh, it's so good to see you!
DS1: Mom, are we going to get kittens now?
(end scene)
*~*~*
That was Wednesday afternoon. Thursday I researched and found out that Saturday mornings are prime time, in some cases the only time, for pet adoptions.
We wanted two kittens so they could keep each other company during the day when we're out and about, not to mention when we're traveling back East over the summer. One person I spoke to at an adoption center said we should get two kittens from the same litter, otherwise we'd have to keep the kittens separated for two weeks to prevent possible disease transmission from one to the other.
We visited the closest adoption center and they only had older cats. There was one a lot closer that had kittens, but no siblings, so we ended up driving all the way up to Tatum & Bell Rds, on the strength of extremely bad directions from the pet store's website, to where the Citizens for Scottsdale Strays were having their adoptions. The drive was long and made longer by the fact that we didn't really know where we were going; the map was too low resolution to be helpful, and the directions were just wrong. We persevered and found the place, finally, but the kids were edging towards grumpy when we arrived.
They had many, many kittens, and some were from the same litter -- but the adoption director quickly dismissed the issue with having to keep the kittens separated; they were all in the same cage anyway, so they'd all been exposed to everything. We were first charmed by a gray-and-white brother and sister, but they were a little older than we wanted, more than 6 months. Still adorable, and very nice, but we wanted younger. We next auditioned totally adorable 2-month-old gray tabby boys, but they were long-haired, and we really didn't want two boys. Then I spotted a little tortoise-shell sweetie in the big cage, and she came out to cuddle on me, purring immediately. We all loved her, but who would be her companion?
The little orange tabby, same age, just a little bit bigger, sweet as can be and a little more frisky than the tortoise.
After paperwork, a quick run to the bank by DH (we forgot to bring the checkbook), a quick shopping trip for necessities, we were the proud owners of then-named Tortie and George. We had great fun all the way home thinking up new names for them, since Tortie just wouldn't do for such a sweet, delicate little girl, and George, while nice, was "too common" for DH's taste.
Cooper
Alice
Alice and Cooper spent their first 2 or 3 hours at home running around at high speed, investigating everything, including each other. Hockey is definitely Cooper's favorite sport, but he's a champion leaper as well. Alice is a bit more shy but she gets around, and she seems to always outwit Cooper just when he's ready to pounce on her.
Like all siblings, they have their moments:
They do seem to get along very well, so far. Both are very loving and cuddly; DS2 has adopted Cooper as his favorite fashion accessory:
A boy and his cat
Alice was vaccinated today, and the shots have just wiped her out. She has spent most of the evening sleeping. She should be feeling much better tomorrow.
Knocked out
It's extraordinarily difficult to photograph kittens; they are both small and quick! I have several shots of each kitten's tail, snapped as they left the frame. Well, now that I have two at home, I hope to improve. Alice is very hard to shoot since her coloration is very dark with lighter spots; she ends up looking a bit more freaky than she is in real life. Cooper, of course, is just gorgeous, but he's such a dear he doesn't know it yet. He's a bit of a baby, too, and he'll meow piteously when he wants some cuddling.
I wonder how this first night will go. Will Cooper cry all night? Will he nibble our toes? Will Alice, now up from her 3-hour nap, be bouncing off the walls? Will they chew through our cable wires overnight? (Unlikely, they're still in their protective sheaths from when we had Rosie.)
Who knows what tomorrow will bring. Today brought kittens, and that's splendid.
Mom is met by Dad, DS1, DD, and DS2. The children all hug Mom, who leans over to get a kiss from Dad.
MOM: Oh, it's so good to see you!
DS1: Mom, are we going to get kittens now?
(end scene)
That was Wednesday afternoon. Thursday I researched and found out that Saturday mornings are prime time, in some cases the only time, for pet adoptions.
We wanted two kittens so they could keep each other company during the day when we're out and about, not to mention when we're traveling back East over the summer. One person I spoke to at an adoption center said we should get two kittens from the same litter, otherwise we'd have to keep the kittens separated for two weeks to prevent possible disease transmission from one to the other.
We visited the closest adoption center and they only had older cats. There was one a lot closer that had kittens, but no siblings, so we ended up driving all the way up to Tatum & Bell Rds, on the strength of extremely bad directions from the pet store's website, to where the Citizens for Scottsdale Strays were having their adoptions. The drive was long and made longer by the fact that we didn't really know where we were going; the map was too low resolution to be helpful, and the directions were just wrong. We persevered and found the place, finally, but the kids were edging towards grumpy when we arrived.
They had many, many kittens, and some were from the same litter -- but the adoption director quickly dismissed the issue with having to keep the kittens separated; they were all in the same cage anyway, so they'd all been exposed to everything. We were first charmed by a gray-and-white brother and sister, but they were a little older than we wanted, more than 6 months. Still adorable, and very nice, but we wanted younger. We next auditioned totally adorable 2-month-old gray tabby boys, but they were long-haired, and we really didn't want two boys. Then I spotted a little tortoise-shell sweetie in the big cage, and she came out to cuddle on me, purring immediately. We all loved her, but who would be her companion?
The little orange tabby, same age, just a little bit bigger, sweet as can be and a little more frisky than the tortoise.
After paperwork, a quick run to the bank by DH (we forgot to bring the checkbook), a quick shopping trip for necessities, we were the proud owners of then-named Tortie and George. We had great fun all the way home thinking up new names for them, since Tortie just wouldn't do for such a sweet, delicate little girl, and George, while nice, was "too common" for DH's taste.
Alice and Cooper spent their first 2 or 3 hours at home running around at high speed, investigating everything, including each other. Hockey is definitely Cooper's favorite sport, but he's a champion leaper as well. Alice is a bit more shy but she gets around, and she seems to always outwit Cooper just when he's ready to pounce on her.
Like all siblings, they have their moments:
They do seem to get along very well, so far. Both are very loving and cuddly; DS2 has adopted Cooper as his favorite fashion accessory:
Alice was vaccinated today, and the shots have just wiped her out. She has spent most of the evening sleeping. She should be feeling much better tomorrow.
It's extraordinarily difficult to photograph kittens; they are both small and quick! I have several shots of each kitten's tail, snapped as they left the frame. Well, now that I have two at home, I hope to improve. Alice is very hard to shoot since her coloration is very dark with lighter spots; she ends up looking a bit more freaky than she is in real life. Cooper, of course, is just gorgeous, but he's such a dear he doesn't know it yet. He's a bit of a baby, too, and he'll meow piteously when he wants some cuddling.
I wonder how this first night will go. Will Cooper cry all night? Will he nibble our toes? Will Alice, now up from her 3-hour nap, be bouncing off the walls? Will they chew through our cable wires overnight? (Unlikely, they're still in their protective sheaths from when we had Rosie.)
Who knows what tomorrow will bring. Today brought kittens, and that's splendid.
Tuesday, August 29, 2006
yay!
The WBS was clean. The ultrasound noted a small node on my left thyroid bed that was not previously present but which favored benign, and should be followed by u/s.
My Thyroglobulin (Tg), with my TSH all the way up to 54 via Thyrogen injections, bumped from 0.4 up to 5.7.
Dr. W is very pleased with these results and is happy with me coming back in a year for follow up. It is true that I still have some cancer cells somewhere, but the likelihood of finding them is very, very small. If the cancer were aggressive, it would be making a much bigger show than this.
So imagine me doing the Snoopy dance... I'm seeing Dr. C, the surgeon, tomorrow morning. Dr. W will defer to Dr. C, if he wants me to come back for follow up sooner, but the bottom line is, right now, I don't need any treatment. I can go home tomorrow as planned.
Cue heavenly choirs: Hallelujah!
My Thyroglobulin (Tg), with my TSH all the way up to 54 via Thyrogen injections, bumped from 0.4 up to 5.7.
Dr. W is very pleased with these results and is happy with me coming back in a year for follow up. It is true that I still have some cancer cells somewhere, but the likelihood of finding them is very, very small. If the cancer were aggressive, it would be making a much bigger show than this.
So imagine me doing the Snoopy dance... I'm seeing Dr. C, the surgeon, tomorrow morning. Dr. W will defer to Dr. C, if he wants me to come back for follow up sooner, but the bottom line is, right now, I don't need any treatment. I can go home tomorrow as planned.
Cue heavenly choirs: Hallelujah!
WBS, new machine edition
I've just come from my whole body scan (WBS), and all I can say is: wow. This was my first WBS here at M.D. Anderson, all of my others have been in Phoenix; this was a huge improvement.
There's a brand new machine here, so instead of having a narrow plank to lie on, with flimsy velcro straps helping to hold your arms in place, there's a nice, still narrow, but comfortable bed, with two "wings" that they snap into place for your arms to rest in. Awesome. I was actually comfy, and my arms didn't fall asleep, even though I almost did.
Second major improvement: instead of spending 90 minutes in the machine, I was out of there in 45 minutes. Granted, they only took one image of my neck (20 minutes), but the WBS part of the scan only took 25 minutes instead of an hour. That's a huge, huge difference.
My only problems were minor. My toes were cold but that was my own fault, I had brought socks to put on, but I forgot them when I put my bag in the locker. The tech brought me a blanket but it didn't help; I'm used to that, which is why I brought the socks. The other thing, I'm having problems swallowing when upright, so having to lie on my back didn't help that, but I made it through OK.
My thoughts were cycling, weirdly, between two extremes: I hope it's negative and I hope that if there's cancer there it shows up this time!
I'm nervous that my Thyrogen-stimulated Tg numbers won't be back from the lab by this afternoon, and I'm not willing to put all my eggs into the cancer-free basket on the strength of negative u/s and wbs, especially given how much my throat hurts, post-Thyrogen shots.
Seeing Dr. W this afternoon, and will post the news when I have it. In a fit of optimism, I checked the airline's website to see I could possibly get out of here earlier tomorrow, but I'm already booked on the first viable flight after my early appointment tomorrow. I can't wait to get out of here.
There's a brand new machine here, so instead of having a narrow plank to lie on, with flimsy velcro straps helping to hold your arms in place, there's a nice, still narrow, but comfortable bed, with two "wings" that they snap into place for your arms to rest in. Awesome. I was actually comfy, and my arms didn't fall asleep, even though I almost did.
Second major improvement: instead of spending 90 minutes in the machine, I was out of there in 45 minutes. Granted, they only took one image of my neck (20 minutes), but the WBS part of the scan only took 25 minutes instead of an hour. That's a huge, huge difference.
My only problems were minor. My toes were cold but that was my own fault, I had brought socks to put on, but I forgot them when I put my bag in the locker. The tech brought me a blanket but it didn't help; I'm used to that, which is why I brought the socks. The other thing, I'm having problems swallowing when upright, so having to lie on my back didn't help that, but I made it through OK.
My thoughts were cycling, weirdly, between two extremes: I hope it's negative and I hope that if there's cancer there it shows up this time!
I'm nervous that my Thyrogen-stimulated Tg numbers won't be back from the lab by this afternoon, and I'm not willing to put all my eggs into the cancer-free basket on the strength of negative u/s and wbs, especially given how much my throat hurts, post-Thyrogen shots.
Seeing Dr. W this afternoon, and will post the news when I have it. In a fit of optimism, I checked the airline's website to see I could possibly get out of here earlier tomorrow, but I'm already booked on the first viable flight after my early appointment tomorrow. I can't wait to get out of here.
Monday, August 28, 2006
two days in limbo
It approaches surreal, being here. I've spent the last two days holed up in my room, except for my excursions for my injections and going to Mass. In a way, it's nice, because I have all my food from home, and good, familiar food is a comfort. In just about every other way, it's miserable.
Oh, the accomodations are fine, but I don't like being alone for such a long stretch.
Saturday I spent reading: DD's new book, The Tail of Emily Windsnap, which was adorable, the classic The Island of the Blue Dolphins, which I had somehow never read before, and then all 562 pages of Jonathan Franzen's The Corrections, which was brilliant but annoying with its obsession with sex and bodily functions. I had my iPod on all day, practically. It was awesome not having to listen to hotel sounds. Keith Jarrett's 6-disc set Live at the Blue Note, and Paul Crossley's Complete Piano Works of Debussy are perfect music to read by.
Sunday morning, my eyes felt like two coals in my head, so I didn't read anything and spent the day watching the Project Runway marathon on Bravo (DH: "Wow, you must know all the commercials by heart now." Yes, I do, and wish fervently that I did not.)
Both nights I stayed up late but when you don't have anything to do, you can nap in the afternoon, so I'm not concerned about it. I'm not driving, I'm not looking after anyone, so if I want to nap, I can.
The Thyrogen shots have made my already lumpy-feeling throat feel even more lumpy. The second shot made it feel even more lumpy and constricted than the first shot. Of course, this is freaking me out, but I'm trying to keep a lid on that. There's no point in panicking even if there is something bad going on in there. We'll just have to wait and see.
I'm going for my ultrasound in about another hour, but when I'll actually have it is a very fluid concept. Time, this visit, has been restored to the state of fungibility it had on my first visit here: one hour waits to be called, 45 minutes back in the exam room, another indeterminate length of time for the drugs or whatever to be brought up. It's kind of insane, and the major reason I wasn't concerned that I was 15 minutes late for my appointment this morning. As it was, I didn't get the RAI until nearly 11AM, two hours after my scheduled appointment time.
For the first time, I had liquid RAI. It tastes like water. The tech unscrewed the lid of the tiny vial, and stuck a bendy straw in it for me to drink, and then added water to make sure I got it all. It was easy. Since this is I-123, with very short wave lengths, and since it was such a tiny dose, only 5mci, I'm OK to sit here in the Internet room and type away.
While leaving Nuclear Medicine, I met another woman and her husband, she's having her scan tomorrow, too. We talked. It was nice to talk to someone who is going through what I have gone through, and more -- she has had external beam radiation and three surgeries, but she still looked fantastic. Coincidental or not, we have exactly the same doctors, so I expect I'll be running into her tomorrow again. It was very nice to have someone to talk to.
Off to get some lunch, now, and this afternoon is the ultrasound. I do not want to go, but I have to know what's happening, and so I will.
Last week I stood in the kitchen and said, I don't want to go.
And DD, all of seven, replied, You gotta do what you gotta do, Mom.
Yep.
Later: The ultrasound went very well; the radiologist didn't see anything to warrant doing a biopsy. It was probably the fastest u/s I've ever had: click, click, click, the tech was like a sports photographer, racking up dozens of images in what felt like about 5 minutes. She asked me if there was a reason I would scarring along the upper right part of my neck, and I had to tell her about the right neck dissection, which I thought was odd -- she should have known about that, right? It's in my records. Well, I've said it before and I'll say it again: any day they decide not to stick needles in your neck is a good day. I'm hopeful.
Oh, the accomodations are fine, but I don't like being alone for such a long stretch.
Saturday I spent reading: DD's new book, The Tail of Emily Windsnap, which was adorable, the classic The Island of the Blue Dolphins, which I had somehow never read before, and then all 562 pages of Jonathan Franzen's The Corrections, which was brilliant but annoying with its obsession with sex and bodily functions. I had my iPod on all day, practically. It was awesome not having to listen to hotel sounds. Keith Jarrett's 6-disc set Live at the Blue Note, and Paul Crossley's Complete Piano Works of Debussy are perfect music to read by.
Sunday morning, my eyes felt like two coals in my head, so I didn't read anything and spent the day watching the Project Runway marathon on Bravo (DH: "Wow, you must know all the commercials by heart now." Yes, I do, and wish fervently that I did not.)
Both nights I stayed up late but when you don't have anything to do, you can nap in the afternoon, so I'm not concerned about it. I'm not driving, I'm not looking after anyone, so if I want to nap, I can.
The Thyrogen shots have made my already lumpy-feeling throat feel even more lumpy. The second shot made it feel even more lumpy and constricted than the first shot. Of course, this is freaking me out, but I'm trying to keep a lid on that. There's no point in panicking even if there is something bad going on in there. We'll just have to wait and see.
I'm going for my ultrasound in about another hour, but when I'll actually have it is a very fluid concept. Time, this visit, has been restored to the state of fungibility it had on my first visit here: one hour waits to be called, 45 minutes back in the exam room, another indeterminate length of time for the drugs or whatever to be brought up. It's kind of insane, and the major reason I wasn't concerned that I was 15 minutes late for my appointment this morning. As it was, I didn't get the RAI until nearly 11AM, two hours after my scheduled appointment time.
For the first time, I had liquid RAI. It tastes like water. The tech unscrewed the lid of the tiny vial, and stuck a bendy straw in it for me to drink, and then added water to make sure I got it all. It was easy. Since this is I-123, with very short wave lengths, and since it was such a tiny dose, only 5mci, I'm OK to sit here in the Internet room and type away.
While leaving Nuclear Medicine, I met another woman and her husband, she's having her scan tomorrow, too. We talked. It was nice to talk to someone who is going through what I have gone through, and more -- she has had external beam radiation and three surgeries, but she still looked fantastic. Coincidental or not, we have exactly the same doctors, so I expect I'll be running into her tomorrow again. It was very nice to have someone to talk to.
Off to get some lunch, now, and this afternoon is the ultrasound. I do not want to go, but I have to know what's happening, and so I will.
Last week I stood in the kitchen and said, I don't want to go.
And DD, all of seven, replied, You gotta do what you gotta do, Mom.
Yep.
Later: The ultrasound went very well; the radiologist didn't see anything to warrant doing a biopsy. It was probably the fastest u/s I've ever had: click, click, click, the tech was like a sports photographer, racking up dozens of images in what felt like about 5 minutes. She asked me if there was a reason I would scarring along the upper right part of my neck, and I had to tell her about the right neck dissection, which I thought was odd -- she should have known about that, right? It's in my records. Well, I've said it before and I'll say it again: any day they decide not to stick needles in your neck is a good day. I'm hopeful.
Friday, August 25, 2006
and it only took 7 hours
I'm in Houston.
Packing was a trip, since I brought food, a lot of food. I put fragile, squishy things into boxes and then packed the boxes into one of the big cooler bags I use for groceries, which fit nicely in the suitcase. The only thing that leaked were the bottles of oil and vinegar I packed, but even those didn't make too much of a mess since I presciently put them into a ziploc bag. (I would've been insane not to.)
Everything survived the trip, even the no-salt tortilla chips. I expected them to be crumbs by now, but a remarkable number appear to have survived intact. When I open the bag they will all crumble to dust, I'm sure, a side-effect of being de-pressurized in the luggage hold. We'll see.
I can not adequately express how much I do not want to be here. But I'm here, so let's get this over with, right? Tomorrow I get my first injection. Whee!
Packing was a trip, since I brought food, a lot of food. I put fragile, squishy things into boxes and then packed the boxes into one of the big cooler bags I use for groceries, which fit nicely in the suitcase. The only thing that leaked were the bottles of oil and vinegar I packed, but even those didn't make too much of a mess since I presciently put them into a ziploc bag. (I would've been insane not to.)
Everything survived the trip, even the no-salt tortilla chips. I expected them to be crumbs by now, but a remarkable number appear to have survived intact. When I open the bag they will all crumble to dust, I'm sure, a side-effect of being de-pressurized in the luggage hold. We'll see.
I can not adequately express how much I do not want to be here. But I'm here, so let's get this over with, right? Tomorrow I get my first injection. Whee!
Thursday, August 24, 2006
the problem with YouTube
It's not just YouTube. It's podcasts, and vidcasts, or videopodcasts or whatever they're called. A lot popular bloggers are podcasting and vidcasting now, and it seems you can't help but come across a half-dozen YouTube embeds during any web crawl. Perhaps I am a dinosaur, but these latest web fads fail to captivate me.
Dean Esmay of Dean's World posted Resolved: Dean Puts Up Far Too Many YouTube Clips.
He does indeed put up a lot, but I'm not complaining about that. Dean's into good music and likes to spread the word. YouTube's great for that. Here's my response to Dean:
But there is a major consideration I forgot to mention in my comment to Dean: unless you're wearing headphones connected to your computer, there will be audible sound. Clicking on a text link can be risky, but nothing like clicking on an audio link. You don't know what volume the audio will stream at, and you can't be sure of the content, either. It's akin to taking an XM radio, randomly turning both the tuner and volume dials, and then turning it on. You could get vitriol pouring out at top volume, or a nicely modulated symphony. Or you could get a really loud symphony.
That's fine if you work alone, but in an office environment, or if there are kids around, it's a no-go, especially if you can't be sure of the content of the clip you'd like to play. Daily I find myself teased by YouTube clips and podcast links waiting to be clicked, but I have to pass because the kids are two feet away. And no, I'm not going to put on headphones to listen to a 2-minute clip, at least I haven't so far. No one has been able to sell their audio/video persuasively enough to get me to do that (yet).
I've tried listening to a few podcasts, but I can't do it at the computer -- sitting here, listening, feels silly. No one has inspired me enough to get into the habit of downloading their podcasts to listen to on my iPod when I'm away from the computer.
When I'm away from the computer, I want to be away from the computer.
Dean Esmay of Dean's World posted Resolved: Dean Puts Up Far Too Many YouTube Clips.
He does indeed put up a lot, but I'm not complaining about that. Dean's into good music and likes to spread the word. YouTube's great for that. Here's my response to Dean:
I'm fine with scrolling past them, but I wouldn't miss them if they were gone.The first issue is that these methods try to impose a use of my time. I find myself closing most videos after a few seconds. I get the idea, I don't need to see all 3 minutes of it, I figure -- so at least I do have some control. But I can't affect how less information-dense video and audio is than text with links can be. I don't see how you can get around that limitation with current technology, although the Hot Air site does a decent job of including links alongside the video player. Another minor consideration: you can't leave comments on a podcast or a vidcast, although you can often comment on the blogpost giving you the link. But those conversations rarely develop into much of anything -- which makes sense, given the thin nature of the source material.
I like reading, it's quick, and there are often fun links to follow. YouTube, podcasts, and all that jazz forces me to sit and watch/listen at the speed of the recording, and there aren't any embedded links -- it is what it is. My favorite thing about the 'net is that it handily gets around the limitations of traditional print media without losing its strengths: win-win, now that we've got big, high-resolution monitors. Audio and video are stuck in the past, and from what I can tell, always will be.
But there is a major consideration I forgot to mention in my comment to Dean: unless you're wearing headphones connected to your computer, there will be audible sound. Clicking on a text link can be risky, but nothing like clicking on an audio link. You don't know what volume the audio will stream at, and you can't be sure of the content, either. It's akin to taking an XM radio, randomly turning both the tuner and volume dials, and then turning it on. You could get vitriol pouring out at top volume, or a nicely modulated symphony. Or you could get a really loud symphony.
That's fine if you work alone, but in an office environment, or if there are kids around, it's a no-go, especially if you can't be sure of the content of the clip you'd like to play. Daily I find myself teased by YouTube clips and podcast links waiting to be clicked, but I have to pass because the kids are two feet away. And no, I'm not going to put on headphones to listen to a 2-minute clip, at least I haven't so far. No one has been able to sell their audio/video persuasively enough to get me to do that (yet).
I've tried listening to a few podcasts, but I can't do it at the computer -- sitting here, listening, feels silly. No one has inspired me enough to get into the habit of downloading their podcasts to listen to on my iPod when I'm away from the computer.
When I'm away from the computer, I want to be away from the computer.
Wednesday, August 23, 2006
on top of things
This is my third round of LID, and I've had more whole body scans than I remember (I'm not sure if that's suppression or repression at work there.) I feel pretty comfortable about this process, but I'm still checking in over at the Yahoo! Thyca support group to get myself back in the zone, if you will. It's a good thing, too, because just now I came across something, as Monty Python would say, completely different. There was a message today asking about eating lemons before a whole body scan (WBS).
Now, I've heard of using lemons to clear the salivaries after RAI treatment, but not in conjunction with an RAI scan.
Noted thyroid cancer expert Dr. Kenneth Ain posted his advice, which is basically as follows:
1. One hour before the scan, peel and eat a large lemon as you would eat an orange.
2. Every 10-15 minutes after finishing the lemon, up until the time of the scan, use water to swish around in your mouth, and swallow the water.
The purpose of this procedure is to remove residual RAI from the salivary glands, and to help remove any radioactive saliva from the lining of esophagus. Radioactive saliva can be mistaken for persistent or metastatic cancer; with this protocol, the odds of that happening are reduced.
I've printed it off to bring to Houston and show my doctors there, and I'll be sure to find a lemon somewhere before my scan next Tuesday.
what to eat on LID*
Leftovers.
Seriously, you have to cook larger amounts than you normally would, just so you don't spend all day, every day, cooking. Or obsessing about cooking. It helps enormously to have, say, cold sliced pork in the refrigerator that you can easily reheat for breakfast.
I may have scandalized a few readers with that thought, but the rule around here is There are two things you can't have for breakfast: lunch and dinner. If it's food, it's fair game. I need protein in the morning, or else I'm useless for much of the day, and since whole eggs, butter, cheese, yogurt, and cream are right out, I'm content to have a slice of last night's dinner along with some fruit.
I have become an LID minimalist. My first two rounds, I had the energy and enthusiasm to make things like apple pancakes for breakfast, and to bake breads of both the yeast and quick varieties. This time around, I'm happy with roasted meats, my daily salad (minus the olives and roasted peppers, alas), and fruit. A lot of fruit.
If I want something crunchy I have my Trader Joe's no-salt-added tortilla chips, which approach divine. A handful of pecans is nice, too. In fact, a handful of pecans and a handful of dried apricots are my preferred "LID lunch to go", being easy to pack, easy to carry, nutritionally dense and thus satisfying.
I've had some disappointments this time around, too. The chicken I get at Sam's Club now has added sea salt, so that's right out; I ended up getting some Foster Farms at Henry's. The pork I usually buy may or may not be OK, but I don't know because I get the whole loin and then cut it up into individual roasts and then freeze it -- so instead of chancing it, I just bought some pork tenderloins that were awesome. And last night we had some grassfed sirloin (from Henry's) that was quite tasty,and there's quite a bit left in the fridge, too.
Perhaps the biggest disappointment was finding out that my favorite cafe, Flancer's, does use iodized salt in its bread. Whether or not they were doing it last time I was on LID, I don't know. There's no point in lamenting the fact that I may have screwed up my scan, because even though the scan was negative, my Tg was elevated, and so they nuked me anyway. And I had terrific uptake after the RAI treatment, I remember Dr. S commenting that he was surprised by how much uptake there was. So the past is past and I'm not concerned about it, I'm just bummed that if I want bread, I'll have to make it myself. (My problem is that I want really good bread, and that requires a significant time investment. It's easier to just skip bread altogether.)
But I haven't been completely lazy. Monday I pushed through my fatigue and made tomato sauce and Italian sausage. The linked recipes were my inspirations, but here's what I actually did:
LID Tomato Sauce
The recipe linked above is a little too plain for my family's taste, and it uses butter which is an LID no-no. This recipe adds a bit more depth of flavor using tomato paste (Contadina brand contains only tomatoes, no salt), and adding dried herbs. I pretty much always have these things on hand. I'm not sure how "authentic" it is, but everyone liked it very much.
1/4 C extra-virgin olive oil
1 small onion, chopped
4 cloves garlic, pressed or minced
6 baby carrots, chopped
1/2 small zuchini, chopped (I didn't have any celery)
salt and pepper
1 tsp dried basil
1 tsp dried oregano
2 dried bay leaves
1 can Contadina tomato paste
2 cans Trader Joe's no-salt-added tomatoes
1-2 tsp sugar
Heat oil over medium-low heat in large pot, and add the onions and garlic. Saute the vegetables until they are soft and the onions are translucent, about 10 minutes. Add the carrots and zuchini, and saute for about another 10 minutes until they are softened, too. Add salt (about 1/4 teaspoon, you can always add more), fresh ground black pepper, basil, oregano, and tomato paste. Mash up the paste into the vegetables and stir well to combine. Cook for a few minutes so that the paste comes up to temperature, then add the canned tomatoes and bay leaves. Bring to a boil, stirring occasionally so the sauce doesn't stick to the bottom. Lower the heat and allow to simmer for at least an hour.
Stir, and taste. If the sauce tastes bitter or acidic, stir in a teaspoon of sugar, then taste again. Add the second teaspoon if the sauce needs it.
Remove from the heat and let cool so you can safely handle it. Discard the bay leaves. For a smoother sauce, puree in small batches using a blender (I did) or food processor, then return to the pot to keep warm for dinner.
LID Italian Sausage
I didn't have the ground anise that Emeril's recipe called for on hand, but no one complained about it's absence. This went together in a snap and tasted very good, even though I didn't have time to let it sit so the flavors could mingle properly. Ideally, you would mix this up the night before you want to eat it, but it's good even if you cook it right away.
1 pound ground pork -- be sure no salt has been added!
2-3 cloves garlic, pressed or minced
1+1/2 tsp paprika (the sweet kind)
3/4 tsp toasted fennel seeds
1/2 tsp salt
several turns of fresh ground black pepper (about 1/4 - 1/2 tsp worth)
1/4 tsp cayenne (optional)
1 scant T dried parsley, or 3/4 T fresh Italian parsley, minced
1 T red wine
If you are using dried parsley, put 1 T of water and the parsley in a small bowl and microwave for about 10-15 seconds. This will help rehydrate the parsley so it's not crunchy in the sausage if you are cooking it right away.
Combine all of the ingredients in a large bowl, being careful to sprinkle the spices over as much meat as possible so they don't clump up. (I got a mouthful of cayenne! Yikes!) Cover and refrigerate until you're ready to cook; overnight is desireable, up to 24 hours is OK, but if you have to cook right away, you should be OK.
You should taste a small amount before cooking up the whole mess, so take about a tablespoon or so of the mixture and press it into a flat patty, and then fry it quickly. In a non-stick pan, it doesn't need anything at all. Let the little patty cool and taste it, then add more salt/pepper/cayenne according to your taste.
Form the meat into little patties (I got eight out of a pound of ground pork), then fry for about 6-8 minutes on each side, making sure they are thoroughly cooked.
Barilla pasta's only ingredients are semolina, durum flour, and vitamins, so it's LID-friendly as well, and makes an excellent accompaniment to the sauce and the sausage.
---
(*) LID= low iodine diet
Seriously, you have to cook larger amounts than you normally would, just so you don't spend all day, every day, cooking. Or obsessing about cooking. It helps enormously to have, say, cold sliced pork in the refrigerator that you can easily reheat for breakfast.
I may have scandalized a few readers with that thought, but the rule around here is There are two things you can't have for breakfast: lunch and dinner. If it's food, it's fair game. I need protein in the morning, or else I'm useless for much of the day, and since whole eggs, butter, cheese, yogurt, and cream are right out, I'm content to have a slice of last night's dinner along with some fruit.
I have become an LID minimalist. My first two rounds, I had the energy and enthusiasm to make things like apple pancakes for breakfast, and to bake breads of both the yeast and quick varieties. This time around, I'm happy with roasted meats, my daily salad (minus the olives and roasted peppers, alas), and fruit. A lot of fruit.
If I want something crunchy I have my Trader Joe's no-salt-added tortilla chips, which approach divine. A handful of pecans is nice, too. In fact, a handful of pecans and a handful of dried apricots are my preferred "LID lunch to go", being easy to pack, easy to carry, nutritionally dense and thus satisfying.
I've had some disappointments this time around, too. The chicken I get at Sam's Club now has added sea salt, so that's right out; I ended up getting some Foster Farms at Henry's. The pork I usually buy may or may not be OK, but I don't know because I get the whole loin and then cut it up into individual roasts and then freeze it -- so instead of chancing it, I just bought some pork tenderloins that were awesome. And last night we had some grassfed sirloin (from Henry's) that was quite tasty,and there's quite a bit left in the fridge, too.
Perhaps the biggest disappointment was finding out that my favorite cafe, Flancer's, does use iodized salt in its bread. Whether or not they were doing it last time I was on LID, I don't know. There's no point in lamenting the fact that I may have screwed up my scan, because even though the scan was negative, my Tg was elevated, and so they nuked me anyway. And I had terrific uptake after the RAI treatment, I remember Dr. S commenting that he was surprised by how much uptake there was. So the past is past and I'm not concerned about it, I'm just bummed that if I want bread, I'll have to make it myself. (My problem is that I want really good bread, and that requires a significant time investment. It's easier to just skip bread altogether.)
But I haven't been completely lazy. Monday I pushed through my fatigue and made tomato sauce and Italian sausage. The linked recipes were my inspirations, but here's what I actually did:
LID Tomato Sauce
The recipe linked above is a little too plain for my family's taste, and it uses butter which is an LID no-no. This recipe adds a bit more depth of flavor using tomato paste (Contadina brand contains only tomatoes, no salt), and adding dried herbs. I pretty much always have these things on hand. I'm not sure how "authentic" it is, but everyone liked it very much.
1/4 C extra-virgin olive oil
1 small onion, chopped
4 cloves garlic, pressed or minced
6 baby carrots, chopped
1/2 small zuchini, chopped (I didn't have any celery)
salt and pepper
1 tsp dried basil
1 tsp dried oregano
2 dried bay leaves
1 can Contadina tomato paste
2 cans Trader Joe's no-salt-added tomatoes
1-2 tsp sugar
Heat oil over medium-low heat in large pot, and add the onions and garlic. Saute the vegetables until they are soft and the onions are translucent, about 10 minutes. Add the carrots and zuchini, and saute for about another 10 minutes until they are softened, too. Add salt (about 1/4 teaspoon, you can always add more), fresh ground black pepper, basil, oregano, and tomato paste. Mash up the paste into the vegetables and stir well to combine. Cook for a few minutes so that the paste comes up to temperature, then add the canned tomatoes and bay leaves. Bring to a boil, stirring occasionally so the sauce doesn't stick to the bottom. Lower the heat and allow to simmer for at least an hour.
Stir, and taste. If the sauce tastes bitter or acidic, stir in a teaspoon of sugar, then taste again. Add the second teaspoon if the sauce needs it.
Remove from the heat and let cool so you can safely handle it. Discard the bay leaves. For a smoother sauce, puree in small batches using a blender (I did) or food processor, then return to the pot to keep warm for dinner.
LID Italian Sausage
I didn't have the ground anise that Emeril's recipe called for on hand, but no one complained about it's absence. This went together in a snap and tasted very good, even though I didn't have time to let it sit so the flavors could mingle properly. Ideally, you would mix this up the night before you want to eat it, but it's good even if you cook it right away.
1 pound ground pork -- be sure no salt has been added!
2-3 cloves garlic, pressed or minced
1+1/2 tsp paprika (the sweet kind)
3/4 tsp toasted fennel seeds
1/2 tsp salt
several turns of fresh ground black pepper (about 1/4 - 1/2 tsp worth)
1/4 tsp cayenne (optional)
1 scant T dried parsley, or 3/4 T fresh Italian parsley, minced
1 T red wine
If you are using dried parsley, put 1 T of water and the parsley in a small bowl and microwave for about 10-15 seconds. This will help rehydrate the parsley so it's not crunchy in the sausage if you are cooking it right away.
Combine all of the ingredients in a large bowl, being careful to sprinkle the spices over as much meat as possible so they don't clump up. (I got a mouthful of cayenne! Yikes!) Cover and refrigerate until you're ready to cook; overnight is desireable, up to 24 hours is OK, but if you have to cook right away, you should be OK.
You should taste a small amount before cooking up the whole mess, so take about a tablespoon or so of the mixture and press it into a flat patty, and then fry it quickly. In a non-stick pan, it doesn't need anything at all. Let the little patty cool and taste it, then add more salt/pepper/cayenne according to your taste.
Form the meat into little patties (I got eight out of a pound of ground pork), then fry for about 6-8 minutes on each side, making sure they are thoroughly cooked.
Barilla pasta's only ingredients are semolina, durum flour, and vitamins, so it's LID-friendly as well, and makes an excellent accompaniment to the sauce and the sausage.
---
(*) LID= low iodine diet
Saturday, August 19, 2006
pretty things
On the way home from Mass this evening, DH asked me if the diet was making me crazy yet. I was happy that he even had to ask. No, the diet (low iodine diet, or LID) isn't making me crazy, but I still have just about no patience these days. It's a combination of three things: 1) the pending trip to Houston and the inherent (possible) horrors it will provoke 2) being on the diet and having to be much more mindful of what I eat than I usually am and 3) this persistent sinus infection that is making me feel like crap. I started on Levaquin yesterday, let's hope it knocks the infection out soon.
Anyway, one thing I did last week was put out all the pretty things I bought back East. Each one of them gives me a feeling of "home" even though home is definitely in AZ and not MA anymore -- "home" will always be near the beach. So:
These are my North Country Wind Bells, aka buoy bells. They are heavy, and not at all wind-chime-y sounding. One day last week, DS1 lay outside on the grass just listening to the bells: They sound so peaceful, he said. And they do, making me think of waves crashing and fog rolling in, but the sound of the buoy bells telling anyone out there exactly where they are.
This is my beach-in-a-bowl. There's sand from our favorite beach, and real sea shells, and glass sea shells, and my beautiful starfish from Pairpoint Glass Works. The bowl was an absolutely steal at IKEA.
I have new artwork, too. This one is tiny, and I'm not sure where it's permanent home will be. This scene is so far from the reality of life in the SouthWest, the type of thing I looked out my windows and saw during the winter months of the first 30 years of my life. It fills a hole I didn't know existed until I saw this tiny print (yes, it's really a notecard) at the gift shop at Old Newgate Prison.
This one isn't new at all. My mother bought it years ago from the Collector's Guild; it hung in my bedroom. And now it's hanging in my bedroom again. I've always loved the colors and the composition, with its dreamy river and ethereal trees. I don't know how to describe the technique other than to say that some of the foliage looks like it was stamped or printed from some intricate lace. I tried to find some information online about the artist (Rivera), but couldn't find anything... but it doesn't matter. I love this work for both nostalgic and contemporary reasons.
Last but certainly not least, my birthday present from my sister J. It's a gorgeous cultured pearl necklace with peridot chips.
It's so unlike anything else I own, but it's perfect. I wanted earrings to go with it, but no dice at Ice, where she had ordered it from... so I had my friend Lisa Maynard restring the necklace for me, harvesting the last two pearls and using them to make earrings. Here's the ensemble:
I promised J I'd take a picture of me wearing it, so she can see how absolutely smashing it is (scar? what scar?). She says peridots are for luck, and I must wear it to Houston. I will.
Anyway, one thing I did last week was put out all the pretty things I bought back East. Each one of them gives me a feeling of "home" even though home is definitely in AZ and not MA anymore -- "home" will always be near the beach. So:
These are my North Country Wind Bells, aka buoy bells. They are heavy, and not at all wind-chime-y sounding. One day last week, DS1 lay outside on the grass just listening to the bells: They sound so peaceful, he said. And they do, making me think of waves crashing and fog rolling in, but the sound of the buoy bells telling anyone out there exactly where they are. This is my beach-in-a-bowl. There's sand from our favorite beach, and real sea shells, and glass sea shells, and my beautiful starfish from Pairpoint Glass Works. The bowl was an absolutely steal at IKEA.
I have new artwork, too. This one is tiny, and I'm not sure where it's permanent home will be. This scene is so far from the reality of life in the SouthWest, the type of thing I looked out my windows and saw during the winter months of the first 30 years of my life. It fills a hole I didn't know existed until I saw this tiny print (yes, it's really a notecard) at the gift shop at Old Newgate Prison.
This one isn't new at all. My mother bought it years ago from the Collector's Guild; it hung in my bedroom. And now it's hanging in my bedroom again. I've always loved the colors and the composition, with its dreamy river and ethereal trees. I don't know how to describe the technique other than to say that some of the foliage looks like it was stamped or printed from some intricate lace. I tried to find some information online about the artist (Rivera), but couldn't find anything... but it doesn't matter. I love this work for both nostalgic and contemporary reasons.
Last but certainly not least, my birthday present from my sister J. It's a gorgeous cultured pearl necklace with peridot chips.
It's so unlike anything else I own, but it's perfect. I wanted earrings to go with it, but no dice at Ice, where she had ordered it from... so I had my friend Lisa Maynard restring the necklace for me, harvesting the last two pearls and using them to make earrings. Here's the ensemble:
I promised J I'd take a picture of me wearing it, so she can see how absolutely smashing it is (scar? what scar?). She says peridots are for luck, and I must wear it to Houston. I will.
Thursday, August 17, 2006
downer
I'm not exactly depressed, I just don't feel like doing anything. I'm simultaneously free and constrained -- a few hours here or there, then obligations that must be met. It's weird and I'm not used to it, and being on the LID is making me grumpy even though I don't feel at all hungry or deprived. I do get frustrated trying to figure out what to make for dinner, but even that is not the end of the world. I just need to get a grip.
Small things are sending me over the edge these days. For example, the pick-up routine at school has been most likely irreversibly screwed over, and it looks like I'm going to have to come up with something clever to avoid having to spend 40 minutes getting the kids every day. We'll see.
Yesterday vanished with very little accomplished, although I did catch up with two girlfriends (there went the day.) Today I took DH's car in for an oil change and brake inspection and there went two hours, and now I'm whiling away the time before I have to go pick up DS1 for his orthodontist appointment.
I don't like this purposelessness. I have to figure out something to do with myself!
Unfortunately my persistent sinus infection is getting in the way of me doing anything productive. I've accomplished a bit by puttering, but really, I know I can do more and it bothers me that I'm not. DH's advice: Get yourself a good book! In other words: relax! quit stressing yourself out!
How I love that man.
Small things are sending me over the edge these days. For example, the pick-up routine at school has been most likely irreversibly screwed over, and it looks like I'm going to have to come up with something clever to avoid having to spend 40 minutes getting the kids every day. We'll see.
Yesterday vanished with very little accomplished, although I did catch up with two girlfriends (there went the day.) Today I took DH's car in for an oil change and brake inspection and there went two hours, and now I'm whiling away the time before I have to go pick up DS1 for his orthodontist appointment.
I don't like this purposelessness. I have to figure out something to do with myself!
Unfortunately my persistent sinus infection is getting in the way of me doing anything productive. I've accomplished a bit by puttering, but really, I know I can do more and it bothers me that I'm not. DH's advice: Get yourself a good book! In other words: relax! quit stressing yourself out!
How I love that man.
Saturday, August 12, 2006
no worries
A major component of the shift I was just talking about is that DS2 is now in kindergarden. All day, because the school no longer offers half-day kindergarden, and because he was ready for it, and because there was no way I was sending him to a different school than his brother and sister.The idea of my baby (how he would protest if he heard me call him that!) away at school all day has tormented me. Yes, he has been at school before and never had trouble -- but those were 3-hour school days. Yes, he has been away from me for more than 3 hours, but then he always had his brother and sister with him.
That first day of school was quite literally the longest time he had ever spent away from his family, since the day he was born.
His most particular, and to me potentially problematic, quirk is his unwillingness to deal with large numbers of people, where "large" means any number greater than 6. His typical response depends on the constraints of the situation. If he can withdraw, either to a quiet corner or from the room completely, that's always his first option. If he's forced to stay, he almost always crawls into my lap. If that's not an option, he creates his own private play zone with his always-in-the-pocket Legos. His first instinct is to disengage, so I wondered how it would go for him in a classroom full of 28 kids when disengagement is not possible.
So far, it has been fine. I didn't talk to him at all about his shyness, but I did mention it briefly to his teacher. On the very first morning, when all the kids were quite wide-eyed with that deer-in-the-headlights expression of terror, I gave him this one reassurance:See, this is your table, your team. You don't have to know everyone all at once, you can get to know your team first. He relaxed immediately, if not completely -- it's much easier to deal with a team of 5 or 6 than an entire class. I know also that if I were there, his reaction to it all would be very different. He's quite a competent little boy when he knows he has to be, when it is expected of him.I like this age, this milestone. DS2 talks to me about his day, remembering different things at different times. I heard about things like his "excellent lunch" and "running around like lunatics" at PE. This is the time when I finally get to uncover more of his personality, just in the way he presents things to me, and what things he chooses to report. I have to relinquish the idea of knowing where he has been and what he has been doing all day; I'll never have that knowledge again, and I don't need it. He tells me what I need to know, and we discover his abilities together. It's funny that I've had him at home with me for more than five years, but I finally feel like I'm getting to know him now.
Now, there's more to know.
shifting gears
First, a visual cliche:
The cherries have been abundant and delicious this summer. It feels like I've never bought them before, and perhaps I haven't. Before this year, no one but me would've eaten them, I think. The kids are growing up and growing into more tastes and experiences. It's quite a trip.
Last week was the second major life-shift in as many weeks: the First Day of School.
They started Thursday, having to become accustomed once again, or for the first time, to early mornings, dress codes, lunch boxes and all that. For the children, it's a shift up, but for me, it's not-quite-the opposite. From 8AM till 3PM I'm in parent-neutral, and then from 3 till bedtime, I'm on again.
I've been keeping busy with the tasks I've ignored for too long: cleaning out the garage, hauling out-grown clothing and toys off to the donation center, that sort of thing. Plus the usual housecleaning and grocery shopping and laundry, which could keep me busy all the time, but I push back against that idea. (No one cares if the tops of the bookcases are dusty, least of all me. The dust remains.)
DH and I had lunch together on Friday, kind of a mini-date, not even an hour stolen in the middle of his workday. He has to go out to eat anyway! When we were dating, a million years and three lives ago, we went out to lunch every Friday unless something dire prevented it. It's lovely for us to have this time again, and I'm really looking forward to establishing the practice, even if he just comes home to eat lunch with me here.
This week, we'll have five consecutive days of school, and it will be a challenge for all of us. Homework starts this week, and extra-curricular activities will be starting up soon. There is more than enough to keep me busy around the house, but my faith in my discipline wavers. I think, I'd like to get a job, but I have to wait until I get back from Houston.
There it is, again: I'm between gears, stuck in neutral. It's only for two more weeks, and then I can figure out something. In the meantime, I'll try to keep busy during the days and keep up with the kids in the afternoons. It's so odd to go from being around them all the time, every day, to having them gone for the better part of the day. They spend more time at school than they do at home in the evening, before bed: 7 hours there, 8:15A to 3:15P, but then it's 8:30P bedtime. No wonder the days seem infinite without them around.
I dislike quite intensely this feeling of having to stand still while my kids are zooming off into the future.
The cherries have been abundant and delicious this summer. It feels like I've never bought them before, and perhaps I haven't. Before this year, no one but me would've eaten them, I think. The kids are growing up and growing into more tastes and experiences. It's quite a trip.
Last week was the second major life-shift in as many weeks: the First Day of School.
They started Thursday, having to become accustomed once again, or for the first time, to early mornings, dress codes, lunch boxes and all that. For the children, it's a shift up, but for me, it's not-quite-the opposite. From 8AM till 3PM I'm in parent-neutral, and then from 3 till bedtime, I'm on again.
I've been keeping busy with the tasks I've ignored for too long: cleaning out the garage, hauling out-grown clothing and toys off to the donation center, that sort of thing. Plus the usual housecleaning and grocery shopping and laundry, which could keep me busy all the time, but I push back against that idea. (No one cares if the tops of the bookcases are dusty, least of all me. The dust remains.)
DH and I had lunch together on Friday, kind of a mini-date, not even an hour stolen in the middle of his workday. He has to go out to eat anyway! When we were dating, a million years and three lives ago, we went out to lunch every Friday unless something dire prevented it. It's lovely for us to have this time again, and I'm really looking forward to establishing the practice, even if he just comes home to eat lunch with me here.
This week, we'll have five consecutive days of school, and it will be a challenge for all of us. Homework starts this week, and extra-curricular activities will be starting up soon. There is more than enough to keep me busy around the house, but my faith in my discipline wavers. I think, I'd like to get a job, but I have to wait until I get back from Houston.
There it is, again: I'm between gears, stuck in neutral. It's only for two more weeks, and then I can figure out something. In the meantime, I'll try to keep busy during the days and keep up with the kids in the afternoons. It's so odd to go from being around them all the time, every day, to having them gone for the better part of the day. They spend more time at school than they do at home in the evening, before bed: 7 hours there, 8:15A to 3:15P, but then it's 8:30P bedtime. No wonder the days seem infinite without them around.
I dislike quite intensely this feeling of having to stand still while my kids are zooming off into the future.
August's column
Things have been in a state of mild upheaval, so I forgot to post about August's Low Carb Luxury online magazine column.
This month, it's Green and Crunchy Kung Pao Chicken, featuring lots of ginger, garlic,and red pepper flakes, and a bunch of delicious veggies.
It's polling as one of my more popular recipes, with four approving e-mails so far. It's not hard at all, but it can be a time consuming with all the chopping and other prep work. It's totally worth it, though. DH started lobbying me to make it for us, soon, when I mentioned my fan mail.
It will have to wait a few weeks, though. The low iodine diet (LID) starts Monday, and that means no soy sauce, among alot of other things.
This month, it's Green and Crunchy Kung Pao Chicken, featuring lots of ginger, garlic,and red pepper flakes, and a bunch of delicious veggies.
It's polling as one of my more popular recipes, with four approving e-mails so far. It's not hard at all, but it can be a time consuming with all the chopping and other prep work. It's totally worth it, though. DH started lobbying me to make it for us, soon, when I mentioned my fan mail.
It will have to wait a few weeks, though. The low iodine diet (LID) starts Monday, and that means no soy sauce, among alot of other things.
in print
My tip has been published in the September/October issue of Cook's Illustrated magazine.
"A Cut Above"
It took me an inordinate amount of time to compose the email I sent to these guys, but obviously, it paid off. Here's my original, which isn't all that different from what they printed:
Have you ever tried to slice a sandwich in half, and have all the inside ingredients squeeze out the sides? There’s an easy way to slice your sandwiches, keeping the fillings neatly inside. Simply cut the top piece of bread into halves (or quarters) before placing it on top of the assembled sandwich. Then you can gently hold onto the top pieces, and use the existing cuts to guide your knife to cut through the fillings and the bottom.
This tip works for everything from peanut butter and jelly to “Dagwoods”, and is especially useful in slicing sandwiches made from hard-crusted breads. Using a serrated knife helps, too.
Friday, August 11, 2006
the impervious unconscious
Whenever some aspect of my life spins out of control, you can bet that one particular person will show up in my dreams.
It only makes sense, really: the first time I needed to retake control of my own life, he was there and gave me the guts to do it. He believed I could, and eventually his faith in me bore fruit. And so, here I am.
I know why I'm having tortured dreams these days. The upcoming trip to Houston and all the tests. The lump I can see in the side of my neck, and the trouble I'm having swallowing. I'm justifiably nervous -- OK, not-so-justifiably petrified -- that I'll need more surgery. On the bad days, I think I've got brain metastases, or that I'll need beam radiation, or something truly horrid. (It's kind of funny how "neck dissection surgery" doesn't even rate "truly horrid" on my terror scale anymore; since I've been through it already, it's a known quantity, and that helps a lot.)
Still, knowing why I'm having these dreams doesn't mean I appreciate this guy, who will always own a piece of my heart just as I will always own a piece of his, however small, showing up in my dreams and putting questions to me that he would never ask in Real Life. But in the dreams, we're back where we were 15 years ago, only we're not.
It's confusing. Dreams are, right? But it pisses me off that the dream-me will be on the brink of making an obviously bad decision -- changing her mind after being firmly set against that wrong choice -- and that's when I wake up.
What I really want is to reset my unconscious so that I dream something else when I'm feeling out of control. Why does it always have to be the same thing?
At least I have the benefit of recognizing it for what it is, now.
It only makes sense, really: the first time I needed to retake control of my own life, he was there and gave me the guts to do it. He believed I could, and eventually his faith in me bore fruit. And so, here I am.
I know why I'm having tortured dreams these days. The upcoming trip to Houston and all the tests. The lump I can see in the side of my neck, and the trouble I'm having swallowing. I'm justifiably nervous -- OK, not-so-justifiably petrified -- that I'll need more surgery. On the bad days, I think I've got brain metastases, or that I'll need beam radiation, or something truly horrid. (It's kind of funny how "neck dissection surgery" doesn't even rate "truly horrid" on my terror scale anymore; since I've been through it already, it's a known quantity, and that helps a lot.)
Still, knowing why I'm having these dreams doesn't mean I appreciate this guy, who will always own a piece of my heart just as I will always own a piece of his, however small, showing up in my dreams and putting questions to me that he would never ask in Real Life. But in the dreams, we're back where we were 15 years ago, only we're not.
It's confusing. Dreams are, right? But it pisses me off that the dream-me will be on the brink of making an obviously bad decision -- changing her mind after being firmly set against that wrong choice -- and that's when I wake up.
What I really want is to reset my unconscious so that I dream something else when I'm feeling out of control. Why does it always have to be the same thing?
At least I have the benefit of recognizing it for what it is, now.
Friday, August 04, 2006
43.
Here's what it looks like:
So, what does it feel like? Remarkably, and unsurprisingly, exactly like 42. You'll have to excuse the beach hair in the photo, which I didn't crop even though I'm not thrilled with that particular view of my thighs. But it's me, so there it is.
Notice how you can't even see the scar in that photo (even if you click to see the larger version)? That's so cool. Of course it's still there, but I think I'm the only one who ever sees it anymore. No one else gives it a moment's notice.
On to specifics: the marble in my the side of my neck subsided a few days after I posted about it, so there's clearly a reactive node there, regardless of whatever else is in there. But my neck has really been bothering me a lot lately, and whether it's because there are new nerves growing back in or something else going on, I have no idea. I'll find out soon enough, I think.
I had a reprieve from my RA for most of my vacation. At least, I think of it that way. I took one Aleve most nights because of all the various things I was sleeping on then, not one of them could be called comfortable, and the Aleve helped me to wake up in the morning without that familiar hit-by-truck feeling. A few days before we left, when the really killer humidity moved in, my RA started to flare a bit, even with the Aleve. I stopped taking it when I got home, and I'm having issues that I'd peg as 3-4 on the pain scale.
The main problem is my sciatica is back in a big way, and I'm not having any luck putting my hips back into alignment the way I used to be able to. I'm having nerve issues all down my left leg, and my toes are numb a good part of the day. It's annoying.
Sometimes, the toes on my right foot get numb, too, which makes me think that maybe there are some calcium issues going on... just another thing to get checked out in in Houston in a few weeks.
My digestion calmed down remarkably over vacation. I didn't have any acid problems at all (even with drinking Manhattans nearly every weekend!), and everything just seemed to be working OK. Since coming home it seems out of whack, again, but I was thinking that the NSAID in the Aleve was probably helping (ironically) my gut, too. So I might go back on it...
... even though Aleve whacks out my blood sugar and gives me a huge appetite and I'll end up gaining weight, which I don't want to do. I did put on a few pounds, I think, over vacation, but after a few days home again I'm back to where I was when I left.
My salivary glands are unhappy right now, lots of tingling and general ick. I feel obstructions in my throat high up near the lump and down near my scar.
But I have energy, and I've managed to get everything I needed to get done, done: tonight was "meet your teacher" and I had all the supplies ready (only missed one item out of a jillion, so that's OK), and made the pizza and cheesecake and had everything ready for a nice dinner when we finally got home. The teachers are all nice, but it sure is odd to think of having all three kids in school all day long!
Friends and family called to wish me a happy day, and I miss everyone even while I'm glad to be home. There's still so much to do, but fortunately plenty of time to do it in, I think.
Another year. I do wish I could make Time Stand Still:
freeze this moment a little bit longer
make each sensation a little bit stronger
experience slips away...
So, what does it feel like? Remarkably, and unsurprisingly, exactly like 42. You'll have to excuse the beach hair in the photo, which I didn't crop even though I'm not thrilled with that particular view of my thighs. But it's me, so there it is.
Notice how you can't even see the scar in that photo (even if you click to see the larger version)? That's so cool. Of course it's still there, but I think I'm the only one who ever sees it anymore. No one else gives it a moment's notice.
On to specifics: the marble in my the side of my neck subsided a few days after I posted about it, so there's clearly a reactive node there, regardless of whatever else is in there. But my neck has really been bothering me a lot lately, and whether it's because there are new nerves growing back in or something else going on, I have no idea. I'll find out soon enough, I think.
I had a reprieve from my RA for most of my vacation. At least, I think of it that way. I took one Aleve most nights because of all the various things I was sleeping on then, not one of them could be called comfortable, and the Aleve helped me to wake up in the morning without that familiar hit-by-truck feeling. A few days before we left, when the really killer humidity moved in, my RA started to flare a bit, even with the Aleve. I stopped taking it when I got home, and I'm having issues that I'd peg as 3-4 on the pain scale.
The main problem is my sciatica is back in a big way, and I'm not having any luck putting my hips back into alignment the way I used to be able to. I'm having nerve issues all down my left leg, and my toes are numb a good part of the day. It's annoying.
Sometimes, the toes on my right foot get numb, too, which makes me think that maybe there are some calcium issues going on... just another thing to get checked out in in Houston in a few weeks.
My digestion calmed down remarkably over vacation. I didn't have any acid problems at all (even with drinking Manhattans nearly every weekend!), and everything just seemed to be working OK. Since coming home it seems out of whack, again, but I was thinking that the NSAID in the Aleve was probably helping (ironically) my gut, too. So I might go back on it...
... even though Aleve whacks out my blood sugar and gives me a huge appetite and I'll end up gaining weight, which I don't want to do. I did put on a few pounds, I think, over vacation, but after a few days home again I'm back to where I was when I left.
My salivary glands are unhappy right now, lots of tingling and general ick. I feel obstructions in my throat high up near the lump and down near my scar.
But I have energy, and I've managed to get everything I needed to get done, done: tonight was "meet your teacher" and I had all the supplies ready (only missed one item out of a jillion, so that's OK), and made the pizza and cheesecake and had everything ready for a nice dinner when we finally got home. The teachers are all nice, but it sure is odd to think of having all three kids in school all day long!
Friends and family called to wish me a happy day, and I miss everyone even while I'm glad to be home. There's still so much to do, but fortunately plenty of time to do it in, I think.
Another year. I do wish I could make Time Stand Still:
freeze this moment a little bit longer
make each sensation a little bit stronger
experience slips away...
Thursday, August 03, 2006
we're all all right
The blur continues.
The trip home was uneventful except for the mistakes we made regarding our expectations of the T. F. Green Airport experience, which I am embarassed to admit are the same mistakes we made last year, namely: 1) it's nigh impossible to find a gas station if you get off the highway at any exit before the exit for the airport itself and 2) the food offered once you've passed through security is limited in selection and extremely pricey. Next year, we'll remember where the close gas station is, and we'll pack a lunch.
Today was a whirl of activity, mostly because I discovered that I had not registered DS2 for kindergarden. I'd just signed him up in what was essentially a wishlist, not realizing that I had to formalize the process by completing a huge stack of paperwork. Or maybe I did the paperwork and then I lost it, or the school lost it, or something ate it -- but the school did not have it, and so did not assign him to a teacher.
Panic ensued, more or less.
But I got the packet today and completed it, and the enrollment director (God bless her, she was so kind to me), told me there had been a cancellation so DS2 is in. Yay!
DS1 had two doctor's appointments today, one with the ENT for a follow-up on his surgery, and one at the orthodontist for impressions for his retainer. He did very well at both. In between, we hit the Post Office (picked up all our held mail), Target (school clothes), Sam's Club, and Trader Joe's. It took me about a half-hour just to put away all the groceries... and three times as long, I think, to sort through all the mail and open the envelopes and then file it.
Laundry awaits, still. We did most of the unpacking on Wednesday, but my clean clothes are still in my suitcase, and my vanity/sink area is a disaster. I'll get to it eventually.
Tomorrow: shopping for school supplies (the list is quite scary), a trip to Borders, and "meet your teachers" in the evening. Pizza for dinner, with cheesecake for dessert.
Odd? Maybe, but when you make your own birthday cake, you get to choose what you want. I choose to load up on seafood (look for anchovies on that pizza) and dairy for the next week or so, because after that it's the LID again. That diet seems expressly designed to torment me, as I love everything from the sea, and often live on eggs, cheese, and yogurt in various forms. I'm sorely tempted to try making coconut milk yogurt this time.
The kids seem unaffected by jet lag, except for waking up at ungodly early hours. My internal clock is completely fried, apparently, since I'm exhausted from the moment I wake up until, say, now, when I could easily pitch forward and sleep on the keyboard. But I won't. I'll go take the cheesecake out of the oven, and then take myself to bed.
The trip home was uneventful except for the mistakes we made regarding our expectations of the T. F. Green Airport experience, which I am embarassed to admit are the same mistakes we made last year, namely: 1) it's nigh impossible to find a gas station if you get off the highway at any exit before the exit for the airport itself and 2) the food offered once you've passed through security is limited in selection and extremely pricey. Next year, we'll remember where the close gas station is, and we'll pack a lunch.
Today was a whirl of activity, mostly because I discovered that I had not registered DS2 for kindergarden. I'd just signed him up in what was essentially a wishlist, not realizing that I had to formalize the process by completing a huge stack of paperwork. Or maybe I did the paperwork and then I lost it, or the school lost it, or something ate it -- but the school did not have it, and so did not assign him to a teacher.
Panic ensued, more or less.
But I got the packet today and completed it, and the enrollment director (God bless her, she was so kind to me), told me there had been a cancellation so DS2 is in. Yay!
DS1 had two doctor's appointments today, one with the ENT for a follow-up on his surgery, and one at the orthodontist for impressions for his retainer. He did very well at both. In between, we hit the Post Office (picked up all our held mail), Target (school clothes), Sam's Club, and Trader Joe's. It took me about a half-hour just to put away all the groceries... and three times as long, I think, to sort through all the mail and open the envelopes and then file it.
Laundry awaits, still. We did most of the unpacking on Wednesday, but my clean clothes are still in my suitcase, and my vanity/sink area is a disaster. I'll get to it eventually.
Tomorrow: shopping for school supplies (the list is quite scary), a trip to Borders, and "meet your teachers" in the evening. Pizza for dinner, with cheesecake for dessert.
Odd? Maybe, but when you make your own birthday cake, you get to choose what you want. I choose to load up on seafood (look for anchovies on that pizza) and dairy for the next week or so, because after that it's the LID again. That diet seems expressly designed to torment me, as I love everything from the sea, and often live on eggs, cheese, and yogurt in various forms. I'm sorely tempted to try making coconut milk yogurt this time.
The kids seem unaffected by jet lag, except for waking up at ungodly early hours. My internal clock is completely fried, apparently, since I'm exhausted from the moment I wake up until, say, now, when I could easily pitch forward and sleep on the keyboard. But I won't. I'll go take the cheesecake out of the oven, and then take myself to bed.
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