Probing...

Today, I went to see my Gastroenterologist to check in and keep on top of genetics.  Good times.[sarcasm]  Actually today wasn't bad.  No touching.  Just talking.  It's awkward being asked about "intestinal habits".  BUT it's even more awkward being touched while being asked.

Today, he told me that it was time for me to have a colonoscopy again.  Arg.  The last time he told me that was when we first met.  Not the best, "Getting to know you" topic- though he certainly got to know me. [shudder] And, just like last time, I found my thoughts racing in weird directions as he's trying to give me all the info I need...


[stream of consciousness]

• So the next time I see you you're going to, what??  
• You literally (one of the few times the word literally is appropriate) will see parts of me "where the sun don't shine".  
• How am I going to look you in the eye at the followup appointment??

Today, I was a little more mature about my situation.  Last time?  Not so much.  I actually asked him, "Why can't you do colonoscopies by region? Like you rent van and a tranquilizer gun.  Then, when I go out to get the paper in the morning, you dart me, throw a bag over my head and toss me in the back of the van with the other ten or so folks you need to scope.  Keep me sedated and just dump me on the lawn at the end of the day.  A little dazed but none the wiser.  Then we can all pretend this never happened and I can look you in the eye not even knowing that you saw...stuff..." He chuckled indulgently and handed me a scrip.  [sigh]

On my way home today,  I was grumpily contemplating my future procedure.  I began again to think of my original idea- medicinal kidnapping.  I started thinking that it would actually be a great idea for those people in our lives who never go to the doctor for any of their routine checks.  A thoughtful family member could sign folks up for a stealth exam using my methodology.  You could arrange for them to have any or all of the exams they have been putting off! My god, I'm a genius!

As I drove, I thought about how smart I was and how many lives I could save if I was actually a medical professional.  (With a shady van and a dart gun.)  At that moment, I had a sudden "AHA" moment.  The thought of stealing people, to probe them in ways they weren't willing to arrange themselves, made me realize that someone else has actually already started this business! All those people that have been "abducted" by aliens report being the victims of medical probes/exams have actually been set up by a loving family member for a comprehensive medical exam! Think about it, it's just like my business model!  Meds that make you fuzzy, grabbing you when you least expect it, poking you, examining you, fuzzy memories... it all adds up!

It seems like many of these "abductions" happen in the southwest.  I guess if stealth was part of your business plan it helps to have wide open spaces all around.  And an "area" (51-shhh) nearby that has a mysterious quality you could use as a camouflage if needed.  But there are smatterings in other states as well.  Maybe it's a traveling doctor who goes where he (sexist- could be a she!) is needed.  Like an old fashioned medicine show.  OR that guy with the knife sharpening truck. I DON'T want to be picked up by that guy! (Ice cream truck guy, yes.)

The problem is that the secret is so well kept that I don't know how to get in touch with this roving Gastrointestinal Operative. (If only politicians could keep their secrets as...well..secret.) There's a certain man in my house who could might need to be the victim of a snatch-and-study...

2015?

(Well, I said I'd be back in 2014.  I lied.  Here we are almost halfway through 2015.  There have been many times I've thought of you and thought of something I'd like to share.  But so lazy...  Where did the time go???  The days are long but the years go by quickly... But today I thought of something that made me go, "Ohhh..." and I just had to share my new insight/knowledge.)

Goodbye 2013

If you're a Christian, the holidays, and all the duties that they entail, are ratcheting up to a fever pitch.  It's been a funky holiday season.  Hanukkah came freakishly early yet somehow Thanksgiving seemed a bit late.  On top of that, the kids' school break starts earlier than usual this year.  I don't know about you but I am now in a full on Christmas shopping panic!  What do I have?! What do I need?! When is the last day to order on line?! What am I going to cook?!  Ack!  So, I am going to take a break from posting until the new year. (I know you're sooooo disappointed. Ha!)

I am going to spend the next few days running around like a manic trying to wrap it all up so that I can sit back and slow down.  Rushing to rest.  Seems silly.  But if I still have errands hanging over my head,  I'll be stressed.  And I don't want to feel frenetic.  I want to feel festive! There's a reason I'm rushing to rest.  My poor little third child is a bit robbed of every childhood experience.  When I had three little ones, the presents were easier to pick and were more exciting. (And cheaper!) I was done shopping early and had the mental capacity to sit back and enjoy.  Even though my youngest is 10, she's my baby.  When my oldest was 10, she was still happily snuggling up to listen to Christmas stories and starry eyed.  We would all bake together with everyone wearing little aprons that Santa bought them one year.  Now they are running in different directions and I am baking alone often.  Sigh.  Though the youngest got to participate in lots of traditions, she doesn't even remember many of them. Yet the oldest was forced to do them so often she has vivid memories.  So I'm rushing to rest so I can enjoy this last elementary school Christmas... [Sob]

I am going to leave with three thoughts that I have been t'inkin about...

My 2014 Resolution-

My 2013 resolution was to take care of the boob "issue". Something that completely terrified me.  I was afraid of every aspect.  The emotional and physical "disfigurement", complications and I even worried about dying.  And yet, somehow, it's done!  I'm on the other side of this huge thing and it really wasn't that bad. I truly cannot absorb it. I've spent too much time worrying about approaching the age of my mother's diagnosis. (This birthday I can enjoy without that spector...). I spent months this year worrying about test results, planning surgery and then worrying "Is this normal?!" after.  It's done. I feel almost normal. (Well, almost as "almost-normal" as I was to start. Totally "Normal" is pushing it.). Now what am I going to worry about to fill that void of stress?  That brings me to my 2014 resolution:  I am going to try and be less fearful.  Of everything.  I won't succeed of course but I am going to try.  I'm going to try and worry less about my kids. (i.e. "Omigod - this obsession with _______ means s/he is going to be an addict!")  I'll dance even though I make Elaine Benis look coordinated and maybe I'll even try karaoke.  (Or not.) 

Absurdly Thankful for Those Faceless Internet People who Have Too Much Time-

Thanks to my recuperating and the necessary uptick in Internet shopping, this year, I am disproportionately grateful for all of those people who write absurdly long reviews of products.  I'm always taken aback by a 200 word essay on a refrigerator or veggie peeler. (Are these people crazy?) BUT they are usually right.  These faceless "commando consumer reporters" have helped me find some nice, new (stretchy) clothes and Christmas presents.  And it was such a relief that I could go on line and google something weird health/recovery wise and find a bunch of people that experienced the same thing.  So glad they all took the time to write it down!  (Sorry I'm too lazy to do the same... ). They make everything from good restaurants to travel to leggings easier to find.  (They also tell me how to fix anything I've broken!)

And...

A Final Holiday Wish

This is the season of family and parties and festivities.  A time to bulk up before the New Year diets kick in.  In years past, I'd put on five pound at this time of year.  Spread around but, I'm sure, at least some would go to my belly.  My holiday wish this year is:  Gee, I hope that my Festive Five goes to my boobs!  Wouldn't that be cool?  

Merry Christmas and a Happy and Healthy New Year to all!

(Because I used to love saying this on the last day of school before the break when I was little, picture me as little girl turning around and skipping down the school hall yelling over my shoulder- "See you next year!")

Juicy Couture Re-Run...

Ummmm...  lazy and in an "Christmas is coming and I'm so unprepared" worried state.

Nothing prepared.

How about a rerun? 

Just click on the words below.....

Juicy Couture

Belloobie Randomness

Last week I totally cracked myself up.  (I always laugh at my own jokes because I'm my own best audience!). I was getting dressed in the morning after the kids had left and was applying lotion to my incisions.  Because I had a "DIEP flap" reconstruction, my muffin top was the "donor site". My resulting belly scar runs from hip to hip and dips down a bit in the center. I also have a scar all around my belly button.   As I was studying this new version of myself I had an "aha" moment.  I ran out of the bathroom to get my cell phone and to look for some googly eyes.  Yes- googly eyes.  But, alas, I had no googly eyes in the house.  (Not as well stocked as I used to be...) I ran back up to the bathroom. A makeup pencil would have to suffice. Looking at myself, I had realized that my belly button looked like a nose and my long scar looked like a smile.  All I needed to do was draw a couple of eyes and I resembled a jack-o-lantern! I was hysterical and had to take pictures.  It feels too TMI to post but let me assure you- it's funny lookin'! I think I showed everyone I ran into that day! Sorry if you were a victim of Wednesday's TMI!

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I don't know how anyone could survive health stuff before the Internet.  Anytime something weird happened, I could go online and find someone else that had felt or experienced the same thing.  I noticed that lots of women call their new girls their "foobs". Fake + Boobs = Foobs.  But as far as I know, they are talking about implants.  My fake boobs were made from me so I decided I needed to coin a new word.   I think "belloobie" is the winner.  Belly + boobies = Belloobies!  Used in a sentence, "I have an itch on my belloobies but I can't feel myself scratching it so I can't get relief!"

*******************

A wishful conversation I had with my husband after my surgery:

Me: Hey, J?  Do you think that if they take all the fat off of my belly you'll be able to see my abdominal muscles thought the skin?  Like- could I have a six pack or boxes or whatever you call it?!

J: Um, no. You have no abdominal muscles.

Me:  I know that they aren't developed but aren't they sort of naturally in that shape anyway?  Don't people exercise their abs to burn of the fat and make the muscle bigger so it can translate through? If he just takes enough fat, wouldn't the impression of the muscles have to show through?  

J: No

Me: [sigh] Man, it sort of made sense to me...

Thankful to Live in the Now

So, today I am completely unprepared.  I have no post so I am slapping one together!  Sorry! 

I am blessed and try to be thankful every day.  Life can change in an instant and it is over too quickly.  This year, I am especially thankful for modern medicine.  We are lucky to live in an age where so many things can be "fixed" or prevented.  Of course, when something goes wrong for you or someone you love, it seems like we haven't advanced enough.  We feel anger over what the doctors can't diagnose or fix because, with so much they CAN do, it's hard to accept the limits.  But just think, when we take our kids to the doctor and its strep, there's a part of the mom-brain that thinks, "Yes!" Because we know that 24 hours of medicine will make them feel better.  Only 100 years ago (not that long ago) strep/scarlet fever was a terrifying diagnosis.

I always tell my children that we are as lucky to live WHEN we live as where we live.  A while ago, I picked up a book from the library for my son.  The title was How They Croaked- The Awful Ends of The Awfully Famous. It seemed a good, grisly way to trick a boy into reading.  A few days later I asked, "Learn anything interesting from your book?" I thought he would list some historical demises but his answer surprised me.  He said, "I learned that I'm happy I live when there is pain medicine!"  Me too!  And anesthesia and antibiotics and penicillin and insulin and blood drives and sterile instruments....  I could just keep going.....

I'm also thankful for preventative medicine.  Because, no matter how far we have advanced, everything is easier to address the earlier it's caught.  So all of you men who never go to the doctor- get your butt there.  Just get a physical and all the tests for your age group.  And all you moms caught up in intensive childcare, the most important way to take care of your kids is to take care of yourself. They get a physical every year- so should you. No one likes mammos or paps or prostrate exams or any of the other disgusting things doctors do to us all. (I had to have a colonoscopy a few years ago.  I actually told the doctor that I wished he could dart me as I went for the paper, throw me in a sack in a van and then drop me on the lawn when it was all over.  That way I'd be able to look him in the eye and not know what he'd seen or done!) None of it's not fun but it's necessary...

How did this turn from thanksgiving to a finger wagging in your direction? I guess I am thankful for all of you and just want you all to stay healthy and safe! So I'll stop lecturing right now....

Before I started writing, I flipped back to see what I wrote last year at thanksgiving.  I am so forgetful that much what I was thinking about was on my last year's post.  At least I'm consistent! I'm linking it *here* because it still applies!

Hope your travels and turkey day are filled with joy and laughter!

Love, 

Heather

Still Boobs

Ok, I know I said I was going to stop posting about my surgery and I'm trying but I still have boobs on the brain.   I've been spending a lot of time at home for the past 6 weeks.  What else do I have to talk about? There's no one here to annoy me BUT me.  (And I can be really annoying!)  I am just starting to get back into the "real world" and will surely have something that's not boobs to rant about/muse over about next time...

So, now that I am getting out, I'm seeing people that I haven't seen in a while. Since before the "boob business".  And now I am wondering: Are they all trying really hard NOT to stare at my boobs?  I know that's what I've done (or tried NOT to do) in the past.  Inquiring minds want to know!  So now I'm going to be watching everyone.  "Eyes up here!"  (I should wear low cut shirts so I can yell, "Aha!" when eyes stray south. The old "boob and switch".)

But, to satisfy curiosity, it's not so exciting.  Which is actually VERY exciting.  We live in such a wonderful time, medically, that I don't look glaringly different than I did before.  Admittedly, things are a bit wonky still but I look more normal than I had dared hope. (And I still have a lot of settling/ healing and a future "tweak" to do.) Dressed, it's a non-event.  I look the same.  Probably better since my muffin top was relocated to higher ground.  I never really expected that thing to come in so handy.  I guess I can stop blaming the children for ruining my body.  If they hadn't, I wouldn't have had the extra dough to work with...  

Today, I am 6 weeks out and for about a week I've been feeling much more like a normal version of me.  Things aren't back to normal but, if I were a computer, it's more like a program running in the background.  Minimized while my normally scheduled programs resume.  Nice! I have the holidays ahead to but there is something else I am looking forward to.  Not having to see the plastic surgeon again until spring!  

In the hospital, every single doctor or nurse that saw me looked at and touched my girls.  But it was the hospital and seemed normal. (?!) But now, I'm still going to be groped every other week or so.  Now, the girls have been monitored for years.  But mostly by women doctors and techs.  Now, my plastic surgeon is completely professional and you can tell it's all just work for him.  But he's a boy and he's my age.  (Possibly a bit younger.) He sits on a stool while I stand in front of him.  With my shirt open. Again, he's completely professional. But it's still a bit weird for me.  

I sort of don't know what to do or where to look. (I'm always tempted to start whistling.) After man-handling the girls, I usually pull my gown shut because I'm modest.  But then I have a question.  So I open up to point to something.  Then close up while he answers.  Then have to open up again while he points something out.  I stand there flapping my gown open and closed like some weird flasher or pink gowned bat. Trying not to whistle. Or babble.  Awkward... It's my natural state.  I'm still waiting to outgrow it.  But at this point I think I should give up.  Or give in.  

Anyway,  I'm looking forward to keeping my shirt closed for the winter.  (Good thing- it's nippy out. <--  Didja see what I did there?  Hee-hee.)   I'm looking forward to not getting groped. (By men I did not marry.) And, for the first time in years, I'm not dreading my birthday and the spring.  Every year since I turned 40, my birthday had brought me closer to my mother's diagnosis age.  It signaled the time to schedule my annual MRI.  And twice to biopsies of suspicious areas.  (Though I am grateful for the last biopsy, it pushed me to go ahead with this all despite my many, many fears.) This spring, can just. be. spring.  And boobs will have nothing to do with it!  Ahhhh.....


P.S. Suddenly got a flash in my head of Tina Turner singing, "What's boobs got to do with it..."