Back To Nature

NOTE: I originally started this entry almost 2 weeks ago on Nov. 8th. Whoops!

Nov. 8th - BACK TO NATURE . . . by which I mean I am currently travelling through gorgeous countryside near the Adirondack Mountains in upstate New York via Amtrak, and my cell phone frequently has NO bars. (What did you expect? I grew up in a NYC Housing Authority project. It’s highly unlikely I’d be going camping . . . although the concept does hold a certain exotic appeal, come to think of it.)

All of this fabulous natural beauty has helped me be zen about my inability to finish my wildly overdue quarterly billing (I am literally THE last person in our division holding up the quarterly reports) due to the pathetically poor wi-fi service on the train. [I am writing this in Word, and then pasting it over later.] That spotty connectivity, plus the ancient laptop issued to me by my company (it was assigned to several other users before me, so do the math) have rendered logging into the network impossible.

Hence, zen.

I mean, just LOOK at this, somewhere on Lake Champlain . . . how could you remain unmoved by this?

Nov, 12th - BACK TO LIFE . . . BACK TO REALITY

Everybody who remembers Soul II Soul from the late 1980s, raise their hand.

The portion above the photo was written on my way north to Montreal, on Friday, November 8th. Now, I’m on my way south, returning to NYC. Taking a leaf, er, cue from my earlier trip, I’m just gonna go zen and resign myself to no wi-fi unless I move to the café car, which is frequently closed for periodic cleaning, despite being very tidy (my translation? don’t mess with the unions and their work break rules). At those points, I’d have to move my laptop back to my seat. So as they say in New Yawk, fuggedaboudit (translation for my Europals: forget about it).

Besides, I sense a nap soon with my handy dandy, (relatively) new, buckwheat hull-filled, U-shaped neck pillow. Woot!

Yep, those inflatable pillows are kind of annoying, and between two 11-hour Amtrak journeys, and next April’s roundtrip to Amsterdam (WOOHOO!) I figured I could splurge on a nice firm travel pillow for US$20 and more storage in my already cluttered home. Since I remember that memory foam traps your body heat (and I already get hot flashes) I opted for the buckwheat filling – and its minute potential for air circulation – instead.

Oh boy. I’d forgotten just how much rambling I did in my blog. Hope my stream of consciousness musings aren’t giving y’all whiplash.

[Sidenote: making it out of Canada just in time, as it’s snowing, and this morning was “my ears hurt, and face is frozen” weather. My ears may stick out from decades of eyeglass wearing, but I do prefer them to remain attached to my giant head.]

[insert nap: here! heheheheheh]

Nov. 12th - THREADING THE NEEDLE (AFTER A NAP)

Speaking of my giant head, we arrive back at the ever expanding list of potential health concerns. (Yeah, middle age pretty much sucks that way.) While my noggin, as I’ve mentioned before, is biologically disease free (note the word “biologically” >> after the laughter dies down, let’s have a hearty “BOY HOWDY!”) apparently my liver is not so lucky.

Despite having a cholesterol level of a mere 187 (WIN! and my triglycerides are low, and. . . ) the past few rounds of blood tests at Sloan Kettering AND my annual physical have shown elevated levels of certain liver proteins. One of the causes of THAT could have been my tamoxifen regime (4 years down, 1 more to go). Ergo, my oncologist ordered a liver ultrasound this summer.

I never got much detail about the ultrasound results from the oncologist, but my primary care physician was not pleased by them and mentioned some medical term I didn't catch, but which he explained involved fatty deposits in my liver, which -- if left unchecked -- can lead to cirrhosis. Ummm....ICK! I mean, check out this photo for a visual of what a liver cross-section would look like.

So the upshot is that I will need to [1] change my diet to a low-fat regimen, since I can't just up and stop taking tamoxifen, and [2] gradually* lose some weight, since obesity is also a possible contributing factor to non-alcholic fatty liver disease (NAFLD). Plus, my knees will be happier carrying around an extra 30 pounds. *Ironically, rapid weight loss exacerbates NAFLD.

[insert another nap: here! I love long train rides. . . ]

Nov. 19th - CUT!

Okay, in the interests of finally publishing this meandering ramble, I've chopped off the last (and unfinished) section for a future post, and am ending THIS post:  [here].

Doing It Right

Rhinebeck 2012 - a\k\a The NY State Sheep & Wool Festival
Yes, last year, but the yarn porn is still luscious.

There is an account on Twitter named Cat Food Breath written by some hilarious human from their cat's point of view. I laughed when s/he tweeted, "If you're home on Saturday night with your cat, you're doing it right." So yeah, I'm doing it right.

Honestly, I'm very happy to be here, chilling out with Emily, my face-palming yoga kitty.  She is a calm and affectionate cat, very quiet, who rarely meows unless she's accidentally locked out (oops -- then she lets loose an unearthly yowl at tremendous volume [my mom found that story hilarious] ) or when I'm about to feed her some of her new wet food (Nature's Variety Instinct, which is 95% meat and US-sourced) made from rabbit, venison, or lamb -- she seems to have become allergic to the duck. Ironically, the SPCA recommended the duck because she was allergic to who-knows-what, most likely chicken and fish.

Yes, I know, I sound like the crazy about my cat lady. To seal the deal, here is a photo of her, since she had not entered my life yet when I stopped writing in here in May of 2011. (Her adoptaversary is Sept. 16, 2011.)

"I can't believe mom is watching Criminal Minds AGAIN."

Emmy has been a godsend during my transition to working at home 80% of the time, since her undemanding companionship has kept me from completely losing what's left of my mind.

Our company has decreed that my team may have 2 full-time cubes for 7 people. Yes, really. When we go in once a week, we have to book a hotel space (read: cubicle) somewhere in the building. Yes, that is indeed a total pain in the patootie.  Part of my depression this summer may stem from the isolation, since as my friend Marci pointed out, I am one of the most social people she knows, and SHE used to work in theater!

So at the suggestion of my friend Dale, I am bumping it up to TWO consecutive days a week, for the sake of both logistics and my sanity. That way I can lock up the laptop overnight and not have to haul it around constantly, schedule meetings over 2 different work days, meet some friends for lunch, etc. There is also something to be said for actual face-to-face contact to transmit info. E-mail has its limits, as does my inbox. Plus, I need to remember how to act among my corporate cohorts (good point Dale) since I was turning into a total slob: it took 4 months, but I did devolve into working in my PJs.

Rhinebeck, October 2012 -
what Central Park is starting to look like only NOW...in November!

Speaking of digging my way out from under, evidently my long, rational discussion with my new brother-in-law (for the sake of brevity, I will refer to him henceforth as BIL#2) had only alleviated my anger at my sister briefly. BIL#2 and I carefully and diplomatically discussed the causes of my door-slamming outburst the morning after it happened. BIL#2 seems like a reasonable person, and his family are lovely salt-of-the-earth Brooklynites, who sound nothing like Bugs Bunny. Coincidentally, I noticed that I was notably calmer at work the next week, because I had finally, after a YEAR, gotten to express some of my feelings.

My furious outburst in my recent post (which represented MY feelings, not everyone else's) made me realize I'm still a long way from over my frustration with my sister. The rest of my family has probably worked out their issues long ago, but it's taken me a long time to get to this point (i.e., acknowledging that I'm STILL really angry since we went from being very close to "I might as well not have a sibling" ).      

And last but not least, my MRI found no trace of cancer in my giant skull. Many thanks to my friend Ellen for bugging me to finally call my oncologist.  For some reason, onco-doc had forgotten to call me back with the results, even though she had sent the info to my GP, whom I saw for part 1 of my annual physical on Thursday. Monday I'm going back to my ophthalmologist for a follow-up about my crazy, lazy eyeballs, that have been giving me headaches. (And people wonder why I want to haul back and clock the asshat Republicans who try to kill Obamacare.)

But to prove that a healthy cerebellum does not necessarily equate to good taste, here's a photo of my guilty pleasure heartthrob (ever since the early 1990s-- hey, I'm consistent!) from his new movie and directorial debut, MAN OF TAI CHI. Considering Karen Mok and Simon Yam are both in it as well, I may have to buy this, since it's legally available online via my cable company.

Not bad for a 49 year old, eh?

And NOW, time to set all the clocks back and enjoy an extra hour of sleep tonight. WOOHOO!

Ephemera

Like a castle in the sand, I wrote a nice long post tonight, responding to recent comments, and...the app crashed and I lost it.

Clearly a sign to give it up and go to bed.

P.S.

Superstorm Sandy hit this spot near South Ferry a year ago on 10/30/12. Ciao!

Marvin The Martian

My Sis and bro-in-law's backyard faces protected wetlands (win!)
Extra points if you spot the 2/F birdhouse they installed

Sooooo...my sister is a butthead.*  (I revert to immature language when confronted with immaturity, apparently.) It's taken me quite a while to wrap my head around the idea that she really doesn't seem to care that she's systematically pissed off her entire family, to the point that we've each individually yelled at her.

Considering that we are the stereotypical "aim for consensus and harmony at all costs" Asian-American family, that takes sustained effort. But hey, my sister is always willing to apply elbow grease when and where it suits her.

Let's review everyone she's hurt, upset, and infuriated this past year, shall we?

Her three children and their spouses? Check! Check! And check!

Her only sibling? Yup.

Her late husband's sister? (He, like me, only had one sibling.) Ding! Ding! Ding!

Her only living parent? You betcha!

(In fact, my mom made the ultimate slam this week when she said,"Your sister is just like her father." [Technically, we're half-sisters on my mom's side, but we were raised together, more or less.] Considering my mom still hates her first husband with the fiery passion of a thousand burning suns, even 60 years later...Ouch!)

Since we are a very small family, Sis is literally batting 1.000.

Do I sound bitter? That's because I am bitter. Like a pot of coffee left on the burner too long.

I can't think too much about this at the moment, or my blood pressure will rise and I won't be able to get to sleep. Instead I'll just try to remember what my nephew calmly said,"She's made her decision and her priority is very clear."

Bah.

I'll just stick to playing with the babies in my family, and visiting my late brother-in-law's grave when I can (with other relatives).

Note the toy cars from his grandsons. - I miss you, big brother.

And in other news, I have not heard back from my oncologist about the MRI of my giant skull, so I guess no news is good news, since doctors are usually really prompt about bad news.

Now I need to go to sleep, since it's long past my bedtime, and I'll be on a new floor at work tomorrow, with the grand poobahs.

P.S. *It was unintentionally hilarious trying to explain the term "butthead" to my very correct, older German relatives.  "So do you remember the show 'Beavis and Butthead'? No? Oh well...let's see now..."

Equal Opportunity Offender

Normally when I go for my oncology checkups, it's in the breast cancer building. So it was really startling to go into one of the main MSKCC buildings for my MRI and be surrounded by a co-ed mixture of patients, in all shapes, sizes, ages, and ethnicities. Cancer is such an egalitarian bastard.

As predicted, I fell asleep during the actual MRI, despite the loud, STAR TREK phaser sounds constantly pinging around my head. (They gave me earplugs, and gently taped my head in place.) And afterward, the phlebotomist (blood tech) was superb with my already-punctured inner elbow, to draw a tube to analyze.

So it was physically painless, but I guess the test is still making me anxious, because despite telling myself repeatedly NOT to take the wrong subway home, I wound up in Queens instead of Harlem. Duh.

Won't know the results for a few days, I imagine. But as my sister pointed out, if there were anything REALLY wrong, I probably would've already heard back from my doctor by now. 

Ah, my sister.

I am in Connecticut, awaiting the weekend visit of my older niece and her daughter from Puerto Rico, where their whole family moved in May.  So I am staying with my sister and brother-in-law in their home.

Had a short, bitter argument with sis tonight after she called me a selfish, rude person, who constantly expects to be entertained. I yelled back that I was going to my room before I said something I'd regret.

Slamming the door created a satisfyingly loud bang.

And yes, the title of this post is equally applicable to her, since I am not the only person she's been so extremely gracious toward during the past year.

Swedish Squirrel

Hidden courtyard cafe in Malmo, Sweden (July 2012)

So yes, I am still alive, after a wonderful summer vacation in Sweden and Denmark during July 2012, and two trips this year to out west: Colorado in March 2013, and Wyoming in August 2013. (Many more photos at some other date.)

And yes, there is an apparently endless series of various medical tests scheduled for me in the next year. Some are routine (bone density, mammo) and one, not so much (recent liver sonogram, some kind of uterine test if & when my next period ever arrives, and an upcoming MRI for my brain). 

The liver sonogram was because I have elevated levels of certain proteins and enzymes (ex: if the normal range should be 1-31 mg/L, I had 57) after 4 years of tamoxifen.[BONUS ROUND: I realized today that I had miscalculated mt tamoxifen schedule, and I actually have ANOTHER YEAR to go. Bah!] The uterine test can only be done if my damn period ever arrives (I forget the reason now, but it made sense at the time) -- personally I want it to NEVER COME BACK, but who the hell knows?

The upcoming MRI is due to have occasional rounds of dizziness, especially upon the first bite of food. Since my blood sugar levels do not appear to be pre-diabetic, AND I'm having some vision problems, well, 2 neurological symptoms = 100% chance of brain MRI.  There's a slot available this coming Wednesday, October 16th, at 8:00 AM. After the radiologist interprets the results and confers with my oncologist, THEN, I will hear the news.

Since I am not claustrophobic, and am relaxed enough during these scans that I have fallen asleep in the past, it's not the test itself that worries me. Nope, it's the fact that this time, they're scanning my HEAD, the seat of what makes me, ME. And as unlikely as a brain tumor would be, my college friend Ellen discovered that she'd had a golf-ball-sized one in her head! (Luckily, it was operable, and she is fine now.)

Okay, enough for now. Time for bed, since one of my resolutions lately (more on those some other time) is to get ENOUGH rest, especially since stress has caused me to wake up in the pre-dawn hours, along with eating more heathily.

Farmers market in Stockholm, Sweden (July 2012)