Support Team

I'm celebrating my way cool support team who accompanied me to visit with the surgeon and oncologist a few weeks ago.

One might think, doom and gloom. Hardly! We had a great time joking and laughing and teasing with the doctors. I haven't had that great a time without alcohol since ..... EVER!

It's was a "Guess you had to be there," afternoon, but I can tell you that the mood was contagious and all the docs and nurses joined in with the humor and jokes.

Thank you Terra, Sandy, and Debby for being the wonderful women, friends, sisters that you are.

If surgery goes as great as the appointments, I'm sure to end up in stitches!

Jury Duty

I'm so happy!

Visualize France

Get yourself in a comfortable position. Take several deep cleansing breaths. Relax your entire body and begin to visualize. Visualize me (yes, me... it's my blog) walking by this quaint French abode. Visualize me smelling the flowers. Visualize me going through the door. Visualize the inhabitants throwing things and yelling at me to GET OUT of their house - visualize it in French!!









Visualize me running barefoot through this beautiful field of flowers, in slow motion, my Breck Girl hair swinging behind me, wearing a long white gown, braless, of course, because I don't need one, my new Barbi Boobs don't bounce! Wiiiiiiii!








Visualize these yummy French pastries!! Visualize me eating them. Visualize you getting jealous and visualizing yourself into my visual and having a few for yourself. Wouldn't we be having a grand time in France??







Well, I'm going! Heck or high water - I ***WILL*** be in France July of 1012. Dayle Doroshow, who I took a polymer clay class from this past fall, teaches week long classes in France and I was planning on going. When all this cancer stuff appeared, I had my doubts. But I turned it all over to the Grand Powers That Be, and I believe.

Dayle believes too and sends me positive support and pictures of beautiful France. Thanks for your friendship, Dayle. To see her creativity, go to:

http://dayledoroshow.com/blog/index.php/about/.


OMMMMMmmmmmmmmmmmmm

It's Time

Not even decked out in his spiffy Ralph Lauren shirt (that his Aunt Terra gave him) can disguise a past due do. Bella has a do do smell all her own, too. Off to the spa Saturday at 9:30.

Field Trip 1 - The Mammogram

I fainted once - a long, long time ago when I was in my very early twenties. It was on a first date and we were at the Colorado Car and Boat show.

He was looking at a display of motorcycle stuff and I was a couple booths away glancing at several 8” X 10” very graphic color glossy photos posted at a Right to Life booth. They were violent, overly morbid, designed to shock.

“That’s interesting,” I thought to myself as I took a couple steps toward the next booth. “I wonder why they would have a booth like that here.”

The next thing I know I’m flat on my back looking up at several concerned strangers. They, looking down at me with their mouths and eyes in perfect circle O’s of surprise and concern.

“You fainted,” someone said. “Let us help you up.”

So, up I was lifted (I was a skinny young thing back then) bright red with embarrassment and apologizing for causing such a ruckus when “whomp” - down I went again.

But, as I remember, it was a graceful, delicate faint. Filled with all the charm and femininity of a Victorian lady whose corset was bound too tightly...

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

... I woke up on the floor of a Kaiser cubical seeing only the lower parts of chrome and gray cabinets, some wheelie things, ribbons of electrical cords trailing across a cool, tile floor.

Confused is an understatement. Everything is so industrial and sterile. What the..?? Where..??

“I must be in an e-book,” I thought. (Got a Nook for Christmas. LOVE IT, but that’s another blog.)

A male voice asks me a question - don’t remember what.

“ I don’t know what book I’m in,” I reply

“You’re at Kaiser,” he explains in a shaky voice. “ I think you fainted.”

Now, I ask you to guess just at what point of the biopsy adventure did The Beckster faint?

Was it as I was climbing butt first off the biopsy table?... No.

How ‘bout when I first stood up and was slipping on the designer hospital gown? ... Uh, uh.

Hmmmmm...... on the walk across the hall to the mammogram machine?... Sorry, no again. I wish it had been.

Nope, (and here’s your visual) I waited until I was at the machine, standing in that awkward position of toes facing 37 degrees to the right, torso forward, left arm up, right arm back, chest out, hips back, and, oh yeah, poor assaulted and bleeding Left Girl trapped in the firm grip of the vice......

“Hold you breath,” Male Nurse says.

I did.

Next thing I know, I’m on the floor in an untitled e-story wondering what character I am.

But now I'm wondering, just how long was I hanging there and how did the Left Girl escape? It makes me giggle.

I’m not allowed to go to appointments by myself anymore without a responsible adult.

Field Trip 1 - The biopsy

It wasn’t your everyday exam table: Near the south end, a part of the table was cut away to form a gaping oval.

“Just lie on your stomach and position your breasts over the hole,” instructs the male nurse.

“Yeah, I know. I’ve been through this before”. Me, with my body weight pressing down against the table while “The Girls” go dangling through the hole.

“Weeeee!” they seemed to be saying, delightfully waving in the breeze, enjoying their new found freedom.

Dr. Whozit enters the room and explains the procedure: Left Girl will be clamped securely in a vice, then a hollow core needle we be inserted into the breast site to remove some of the tissue where the mammogram had shown unusual calcification. I will hear a loud machine - It’s a vacuum sucking tissue from the site. (Huh? Vacuum?)

She assured me she would numb the area with a couple shots of lidocaine. I should expect to feel a little sting.

A little sting is when you anger a bee. A needle invading 3-4 inches into one of your Girls has a rather “peel me off the ceiling” sensation. I guess she was just trying to be nice.

Five “stings” later she inserts the hollow core needle. Yep, I’m numb.

“Oh, oh,” she says.

“Hmmmmm,” says the nurse.

“Is there something you need to tell me?” I ask.

Silence.

My dentist, my hair stylist, and now a third person to add to the list of people not to piss off: the doc who has one of my Girls in a clamp, an array of sharp needles, and a Turbo Dyson near by.

Finally she speaks. “It seems I can’t reach the site from this angle. We’ll have to go in from another angle. I’m glad I brought more lidocaine. Sorry.”

“Oh, that’s OK,” Becky the wimp replies.

Five more excruciating “little stings”, the hollow core needle, and the Hoover from Hell; finally it’s over.

“Don’t get dressed yet,” instructs the nurse. We still have to mammogram that breast.

Say what????