Friday, January 28, 2011

f yeah!

We are doing it folks! Your donations have morphed into results that will be presented to us on Feb 4th during our first progress report at Sloan. I've said it to a few of our donors in personal communication, but I'd like to tell the rest of you that it's not just money, it's hope. Every dollar is bridging the gap between being totally f'cked and having a chance at better therapies. You can't imagine what it does to each of us when we see how many of you care enough to help out. We know you get it, and we love you for it. Thank you all soooo much!

Correction on my spelling rant

Apparently the blame lies solely on my father. I was informed by my perfect mother, who is feared by all scrabble players world wide, that she has nothing to do with my brain numbing spelling deficiency. Mom, hairs two you:)

Thursday, January 27, 2011

not being able to spell

It's my parents fault. That's right mom and dad, I'm calling YOU both out on this one. I couldn't spell before I went to high school, where I learned to party. I couldn't spell well before I went to college, where I lost most of my brain cells. I couldn't spell before I had children. So, if alcohol, more alcohol, a few other recreational non-alcoholic "beverages", lack of sleep, brain hammering science, pregnancy and the subsequent lack of sanity didn't do it, it has to be your fault that I can NOT and will never be able to spell (or even use spell check properly). Just sayin'.

It's not my fight, it's our fight

The other day I was walking down the hall at work when a colleague stopped to ask how I was feeling. Surprised by my answer of "oh just fine, thank you, how are you", she proceeded to look stunned that I wasn't falling apart, both physically and emotionally. "So, you just get up every morning and keep going?" she asked in disbelief. I guess from the outside, it may seem an alien concept to some that life is right now, and I'm entitled to live it in as fear free a manner as they are. Right now, I am so not focused on my place in the grand cancer scheme, but have my heart 100% wrapped around my friends who are deeper in the trenches. If you want to see tough, you can look into their eyes. If you want to know a warrior, you can talk to their parents. If you want to see the meaning of life, you can watch them fight for that next breath. I feel very privileged, I've learned so much about life and will continue to do so as we fight together.

Sunday, January 23, 2011

Saying goodby before I said hello

This afternoon I went to a memorial mass for Ken Coppola who died because we haven't found a cure for angiosarcoma yet. As I approached the entrance, I walked slowly behind an elderly woman who was trying to negotiate the slick side walks with a cane, at her pace I took notice of cars lined up along the side roads. There were so many people coming to say goodby to someone I never had the opportunity to say hello to. During the service, I tried to live as deep in the moment as I could, letting all five of my senses absorb what they could. I'll keep the smell of the perfume from the small woman with brown hair, brown eyes and a red scarf in front of me right next to the memory of her sweet voice which uttered the words "peace be with you" as she shook my hand during the service. The cadence of peoples sniffles matched the frequency with which they lifted their fingers to their eyes to wipe away tears as if conducted by the priest. The church itself, it's organ, stained glass windows, Eucharist cabinet, alters, sculptures, and pews will never leave my memory. Goodby Ken. I will keep you with me always. I made a promise to you once that I would do everything possible to keep your memory alive for Rocco. I will. I am. Your name and your picture will be part of everything we do and your little boy will grow up knowing that you made an impact on so many of our lives.

Thursday, January 20, 2011

Slacker cancer girl opens up her blog

I didn't realize that it'd been almost 2 weeks since I wrote in this here blog. My momma came up for a short visit which was wonderful. We sat down to play cards, spite and malice, and unfolded the score sheet that we've tallied for all the years I've lived in this house. To our astonishment, we had not played one game during the entire 3 months that she LIVED here with us when I was going through all the fun with cancer stuff. Guess we figured that cancer was so entertaining that we didn't need pedestrian games to occupy our time. None the less, it was nice to sit down in the midst of a respite and play a game.

Saturday, January 8, 2011

Clean scans and Uno Chicago Grill

Last time I went in for my scans, I asked whether it would be possible to receive my results over the phone. "No no", I was told, "I'd really like to see you in person". "In person" means a full day into Boston that starts at the anxiety crack of dawn and ends a couple years later, when the doctor eventually makes his way into my room, the one that might as well have my shadow carved into the sterile white walls for all the time I sit in THAT chair under THOSE lights. "In person" means that Ted and I both take the full day off work and Charly misses school (although she does get to see Gina, one of the few +++'s). "In person" means another crappy lunch in the cafe at Dana. The menu might as well read, stuffed fillet of cancer with a side of sarcoma, to accompany my frog in throat knot in stomach appetite. "In person" really doc? You read a report put together by someone else. What is it that "your person" is providing? I feel pretty strongly that "in person" = co-pay. Last week, I sent an email saying that I either get my results over the phone or I stop getting scanned. The day before yesterday, I got my results while eating lunch at Chicago grill, where I had the pasta primavera and a side of clean scans.

Wednesday, January 5, 2011


is a choice we are allowed to make.

Sunday, January 2, 2011

The Worcester Left

Maryland, Florida, Massachusetts, Colorado, Georgia, and Tennessee/Kentucky are states that I've lived in. It goes without saying that I've also driven my car in all of the aforementioned states. Maryland has it's share of road rage, the traffic around DC is a killer. Florida has a fair amount of geezer drivers who drift into on coming traffic, but every one's going so slow, it doesn't much matter. In Colorado, it was smooth sailing; snow, mountain passes, tourists, none of it seemed to impair peoples ability to get into a car and then back out at their destination without a rise in blood pressure and in one piece. Georgia and TN/KY also had road savvy drivers. And then there's Massachusetts. People in this state drive their cars the same way they direct their carriages at the grocery store. They drive completely self absorbed with absolutely no sense of spatial awareness. The light is green, I'll just turn left in front of that person because I want to. The light is red, but I feel like continuing, people will stop for me, it's me for gods sake. I've had to slam on my brakes, swerve into thankfully empty lanes, stop short at lights, flick off total strangers and yell obscenities to little old ladies because of the way people drive in this state. It's them, really, I'm the sane one, I swear it I SWEAR IT!

Saturday, January 1, 2011


We brought in the new year by taking the girls skiing. This has been the best year of my life so far! We skied to the point of muscle failure...that is at least for the muscles in my forearm that were responsible for attaching me and my children to the tow rope. After 7 or 8 months of TV atrophy, my poor little tiny body needs some serious YMCA time. Those girls had so much fun, and every smile on their face was magnified into sheer bliss on ours. I do believe that we've made a couple adrenaline who would have ever guessed that that would happen...