February Funk

So I started off February all revved up about posting often. As you can see by the dates between today's blather and the previous one, that didn't work out so well.

The red eyes are on my REALLY bad days

Instead, I spent most of the month like this.

It didn't help that most of February was a constant blur of frigid temperatures, snow, sleet, wintry mix, and fossilized snow. For pete's sake, The Weather Channel is up to Winter Storm Thor. THOR! It seemed like a nasty storm would blow in like clockwork every Sunday, triggering an emergency alert from the office every Monday. BLEH. (And that's NOT my imagination: tonight's weather report said that happened 7 out of the past 9 weekends.)

The first half of February was a blur of clearing the decks so that I could go in for my outpatient bilateral laparoscopic salpingo-oophorectomy on Valentine's Day (oh the irony). That's the formal medical name, since I certainly didn't need the highways to nowhere (i.e., my tubes), once my ovaries were gone.

My anesthesiologist at Sloan-Kettering was hilarious though. Upon meeting me in the pre-op waiting area, he (a) enlightened us as to the difference between general anesthesia and twilight sedation, [In general anesthesia, the machines are breathing for me. Luckily, I was unconscious before they put the respiratory tube down my throat. Yuck.] and (b) gave me a pop quiz:

Dr. A: [casually] So what'd you eat for breakfast?

Me: [promptly] NO!

Dr. A: Right answer! You get to go ahead with your procedure.

My awesome friend Marci accompanied me for the day, and made sure I made it home okay. She also kindly unearthed my bed, hidden under several sacks of clean -- yes, clean -- laundry.  (Sidenote: general anesthesia totally SUCKS! Found out that I am one of those folks who will totally barf if not given an anti-emetic. Plus, days of post-op lethargy. "Oh, I've been awake for all of 3 hours? Time to pass out again." [THUD...Zzzzz...])

So all that took more out of me than I expected.  But although I had President's Day off, and took the rest of the week off as well, my sister left for Florida that Wednesday, and so my brother-in-law dropped mom back off at her place.  I felt like a total rebel for not returning till Thursday night, whereupon I found out she had a terrible cold. That led to a fun few weeks.

Mmmm... crispy Peking duck burrito

I. Am. So. Tired.

SO tired.

It makes me super-cranky when at work (which mercifully, is NOT in the office, except once a week).

Luckily, I had planned some fun events for later in the month, like a belated Chinese New York banquet with my friends (Peking duck makes EVERYTHING better!)

[This is making me hungry...brief pause for dinner, a la realtime blogging like Pinky Guererro.]

Oops...that was an extremely long break, since I took time out to eat, watch THE WALKING DEAD (best not to combine the 2 activities), and then BATTLE CREEK (what can I say? I've always had a soft spot for Dean Winters, a\k\a The Mayhem Guy in the hilarious Allstate ads -- FYI: there are apparently 4-6 ads deemed too violent to air on TV. Dayum! SO wanna see those !)

Our view in Town Hall

Speaking of funny, I also went to see Craig Ferguson's standup show with as part of his Hot & Grumpy Tour, with my pals Jackie Blue and Marci. I needed a night of pure relaxation, where we were laughing until I was literally wiping tears from my eyes. He reminded me of Eddie Izzard in style, so we were all happy campers. And his opening act was Josh Robert Thompson, the voice of Geoff The Gay Robot from Craigy Ferg's LATE, LATE SHOW. (JRT does an absolutely uncanny impersonation of Morgan Freeman which had the audience in stitches, BTW.)


And along other disorienting thoughts -- besides a 40 year old white guy sounding like a 77 year old black man -- is the idea that my cat and I share a common trait: we've both been fixed.

Just because I decided years ago that I didn't want (human) children, doesn't mean it doesn't still leave me slightly bemused of being biologically incapable of having offspring. Also causing a "WHOA!" moment is the thought that if I ever have sex again (HA!) I will no longer need birth control. (Fear not: that doesn't mean no safe sex. I came of age during the discovery of AIDS, after all. But since the goal of all of this surgery is to leave me with no estrogen, I have ZERO libido.)  And I'm still wrapping my head around the concept of no more periods EVER. Never ever ever. HALLELUJAH! Once that fully sinks in, I will be doing my Snoopy impression.

Soooooo YES! (And I know I'm going to grammar hell for all of my double negatives.)

So yeah, I have a lot of major life changes going on that have yet to fully sink in.

And I have no idea of how I'm going to get out from under my current routine which leaves me a Super Cranky Squirrel, as most of my vacation days have been spoken for between a trip in July, and all of the medical appointments for Mom and myself. (Did I mention my sister is in Florida for the month?) The eldercare lawyer is going to put in a Medicaid application for Mom, in order for the potential to get some home care help, but that'll be months in the making.

(Related aside: I freaking HATE dealing with HSBC. They are the most unhelpful bank EVER. And I'm supposed to be a freaking Premier customer. Asshats. Despise them with a tired, dimly burning passion -- if I had more energy, it'd be the fire of a thousand suns, but as things stand, well...)

But I digress.

Have started seeing my therapist again this year (affectionately referred to as my Pearl of Wisdom), and she's helped me recognize that part of the reason I may be so exhausted -- besides the obvious one of having 2 full time jobs -- is that somewhere deep inside I am angry, and repressing all of that anger is very tiring exercise. Looking after my Mom is a labor of love, and I don't resent doing it, but I do feel like I'm paddling in the middle of the ocean with one oar.

I. Am. So. Tired.

TripleC is exhausted just thinking of everything I have to do.

Vocabulary Words

I have no idea what this trippy [though delightful] photo is,
 but clearly my iphone6 was awake at the wheel when I wasn't.

So my new favorite word of the year is oophorectomy (which I mentioned recently). Today was my pre-surgical testing day: bloodwork, EKG (ECG? the one where they tape electrodes to your pulse points), chest x-ray, lots and lots of medical questionnaires, etc. The anesthesiology nurse was interested to hear that I am really cheap date: after previous procedures, I'd wake up long after their estimates.

Medical Staff: [Ms. Squirrel] should be awake in about 45 minutes.

[Two hours later. . .] "Um . . . you may now join her in the recovery room."

There's some technical term for this, but of course, I've totally forgotten it, since I have truly sucky recall these days. (chemo brain + menopausal fog + stress = what did you say?) In any case, it's a genetic trait, since Squirrelmom and Squirrelsis are the same way -- the anesthesia, not the forgetfulness.

Say "HI!" to either Patience or Fortitude --
 I never know which NYPL lion is which.
In any case, I really need both of their qualities these days!

The red letter day will be February 14th (hee! loving the irony) since the surgeon only operates on Saturdays and that was the first slot (pun intended) available when I asked in January. I'll be under general anesthesia, but it will be a laparoscopic removal, so no giant incision (yay!) -- just 3 small ones instead.

We'll skip over the giant pre-op checklist they gave me, except to say that I agreed to donate an extra vial of blood towards research, a small enough way to pay it forward. [Squirrelsis and I were also taking care of paperwork at the bank today, so I had lots of practice following the "sign here . . . and here . . . and here" instructions.]

The 7 test tubes of blood also allowed me to rationalize a protein & iron-rich dinner at The Comfort of deviled eggs and fried chicken livers, washed down by 1911 hard cider and lots of water. Yep, gentrification of Grand Street on the Lower East Side is not all bad. (CeCeCat [a\k\a TripleC, a la my friend Sussi] also wins from the arrival of Pet Island II.)

As much as I love the 2 ladies pictured below, I am WILDLY EXCITED to have a few days off after my surgery: my sister is kidnapping Mom for a week, and my co-worker D. is thrilled to be catsitting the Pinball Pussycat again for that same week. (My incisions are going to be small, but they still won't appreciate a 7+ lb. cat trampolining off my belly.)

Another thing I am looking forward to? My chemically induced, super annoying, peri-menopause will be converted into a permanent, biological, post-menopausal state. SO YES!

Snugglebuddies: Squirrelmom, TripleC, and twice-repaired Monkey.

My stalwart friend Marci will be accompanying me to and from the procedure at Sloan-Kettering, and then I will only have to use 4 PTO days after the Presidents' Day holiday to get a whole week off ( or 9 days, if you count the weekends and outpatient operation day itself).

Now I only have to get through 8 more workdays before I have a vacation. (Yes, my life is THAT thrilling, such that recovering from a medical procedure counts as decadent idleness!) So I'd better get to sleep before I snarl and bite someone's head off in the morning conference call.

Note to self: This had better NOT be my Out Loud Voice!

Resolutions, Resurrection & Recap

Yes, it is I, Sesame Squirrel and I am still alive, after a blogging hiatus of over a year. And it's been an eventful year.  So I'm tired (pretty much all the time) and going to cheat by using my holiday newsletter as my first post, but since one of my goals is to write more this year -- and not just in 140 character bursts -- I figured a start is better than waiting.  

So here goes, and sorry for the redux for those of you who've read my babblings already. I've added some more details though, since it doesn't have to fit on one side of a sheet of paper.

Recap

(because I think in bullet points)

• Jan - Life was good, and I went to Boston (Hi, Tam!) but I had ennui. Silly squirrel.
• Feb - Lifelong non-smoker Mom was admitted to Roosevelt Hospital & diagnosed with inoperable lung cancer: both lungs and part of her ribs ( Stage IV NSCLC )
• Mar - My cat Emily and I moved in with Mom full-time. Luckily, I already work from home 4 days/week, so I simply migrate my laptop back to the same desk I had when I was 10 years old.  Emmy becomes Squirrelmom's gateway cat.  Her serene nature -- and fondness for quality lap time -- endeared her to my formerly pet-free mother.
• Apr - Mom has an MRI which mercifully shows that the cancer has NOT metastastisized to her brain. HALLELUJAH!  Postpone long-planned trip to Holland to visit friend (Hi, Collinda!). Mom’s oncologist adjusts dosage of her chemo pill downward, reducing some side nasty effects. HALLELUJAH! However, the painkillers, chemo, and her general age [did I mention she's very hard of hearing?] make for total forgetfulness.  On the bright side, Squirrelmom has basically morphed into a very sweet (but alas, stubborn) 84 year old toddler. HALLELUJAH!  
• May - blur - monthly visit with Mom's onco - tired
• Jun - blur - monthly visit with Mom's onco - more tired
• July - blur - monthly visit with Mom's onco - even more tired; officially promoted for the first time at work, after 10 years there (yes, TEN years!)
• Aug - Emily diagnosed with lymphoma in her skull. We now each have our own oncologist: Mom, Emmy, and moi. BOO! HISS! 
• Sep - I reach critical mass (i.e., melt down); Sis kidnaps Mom for a few days while I say goodbye to Emily before she is put to sleep on Sept. 5^th. Sis re-kidnaps Mom for 2 weeks when I go on business trip to DC (Hi, Amy! Hi, Lori & Tom!) starting Sept. 27^th and then my trip to NL.
  
• Oct - Finally on delayed trip to Dutch countryside (Hi again, Collinda!) for a much needed weeklong rest cure. Amuse friends by endless city girl glee over cows, sheep, and horses scattered everywhere we drive. Be awed by the marzipan-squirrel, hazelnut mousse, caramel, and yellow cake Collinda and her sister make to welcome me to their beautiful homeland. Eat stroopwafels. Bring home CeCe the wonder kitten*, who was abandoned at eye-vet friends’ office. (Hi, Jane & Jim!) We estimate she is about 2 months old.
• Nov - Go on a long weekend to the CrimeBake (Hi Barbara!) crime fiction conference to see pals (Hi Craig & Judy!) Mom’s oncologist finally takes her off Percocet after 9 months (!!!) and she is So. Much. More. Lucid. BOY HOWDY! Get into a routine where I come home (to my own apt.) overnight on Saturday for mail, sleep, FreshDirect deliveries (that I take to Mom), and metaphorical Calgon time. Sis kidnaps Mom for almost a week at Thanksgiving. HALLELUJAH!  So. Tired.
• Dec - Meet with Sloan-Kettering docs to discuss my treatment options for years 6-10 post-breast cancer. Yup, more drugs & (laparoscopic) surgery lie in my future. Specifically, I'll be having an oophorectomy on Valentine's Day (oh the irony).

Things I Learned Last Year

(usually from Mom or one of my cats)

• Sleep when you can - Emily had the right idea.(Hi again, Craig and Judy!) If you had told me a year ago I’d be getting up before 6am and passing out by 9pm, I’d’ve told you to stop smoking crack, but an ailing parent and hyperactive kitten make for a whole new schedule. Now I know why parents of young children laugh when you ask what they've read lately. Heck, I don't even watch much TV anymore. Yes! ME!
• Prioritize - If it hasn’t fallen in the litter box, or there’s no sound of shattering glass, it can wait till morning. Corollary: can it wait till next Sat/forever?
• Everyone’s happier when they have a purpose - Well, at least in our family: I take care of Mom, and lose my asinine midlife crisis whininess. Mom checks on CeCe and starts talking about the future again (*see why I call her The Wonder Kitten?) Bonus: Mom has legit JOB now: play with CeCe so I can work and stay employed!
• Having an elderly parent who’s hard of hearing is not ALL bad - I don’t have to worry about waking up Mom with my endless shrieks while CeCe uses me as a human trampoline, while she learns to coordinate her ever growing limbs. (Also, Mom is smart: she has pretty much figured out what the English word “OW!” means, and nowadays, she has grown so blase about my sporadic yelps during the daytime that she merely asks,"Cat again?")
• Samsonite, taxis, Bactine and Neosporin are your friends - Plus, I am allergic to Johnson and Johnson brand band-aids!

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!

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)

Numb3rs

So yes, I've been gone for a loooong time from here. It's been a busy month. Or 5-6 weeks. Taxes. Another reorg at work. (And no, I don't know how many that makes over the past few years.) Got my health tests back from MSKCC after a scare about a possible lump in my OTHER boob (yeah, those were the most miserable 2-3 weeks in recent memory until after the all-clear, and left me noticeably foul-tempered at work).


But now, I'm generally more cheerful. I'm still employed (with fabbo health insurance) and have gotten better at not letting the inanity / insanity at the office get to me. Try (usually successfully) to visit my mom every Monday so we watch DANCING WITH THE STARS together (heh). My family is healthy and doing well. I can even finally see the floor in my bedroom again. Hanging out with my real-life friends here locally is also part of my routine.


And as those stats in the photo up above show, I have been writing up a storm (hence, kinda quiet here) and making writing friends, as well as general goofing-off friends via Twitter and Tumblr. (Warning: that link to my Tumblr account may be full of amusement, especially if you know the way my mind works, but don't read the stories unless you want your eyelids seared with smut. Just sayin' ;-p)


In addition to all of that, I have started noticing the opposite sex again (translation: severely crushing on a writer, as my 100th Tumblr post shows) so I say it's time to start dating again! Will take a deep breath and call IT'S JUST LUNCH to see how much they cost. My wall unit savings account can be redirected to the "get me to relearn how to socialize" fund instead. Since my Pearl of Wisdom wisely pointed out that my last two relationships left a few things to be desired (not going to get into the details of our problems here, I can can definitely recognize the things she mentioned) so it's not surprising that I'm ambivalent about the idea of EVER marrying. Heck, just getting back into the swing of things will be a novelty for me. It's been almost exactly one year since I broke up with The Engineer, so yeah, it's time.


And one that note, I am going to immerse myself in my new Adele: 21 CD which is FANTASTIC. That woman has chops! And since I never watch the Grammys, I didn't know she'd won any. Instead, I was introduced to her vocal prowess in my across the hall neighbor's living room, via his blow-black-your-hair home theater system. I am in aural adoration mode (with Adele -- my 20 year old TV shows I'm not that bothered about home theater stuff).

Squee!

Work has been hellacious lately (lather, rinse, repeat) and whenever that happens, I start thinking about (a) updating my resume, and/or (b) planning my next vacation. In this case, I did both, but I'm going to talk about only the fun part here.

You know how I've been diligently accumulating all of my frequent flyer miles over the years for a return trip to Asia in business class? Well I'm finally about to pull the trigger as they say!

I had had a reservation on American for NYC - Shanghai || HK - NYC, but due to a glass of wine at dinner last night (yes, I am such a lightweight) I completely forgot that it expired at midnight last night, and NOT today, as my tiny pea brain thought. Oops.

Well hey, I've been trying to be more mellow about things lately (and sometimes it even works). In this case, I looked upon it as an opportunity to see if I could wangle a different itinerary (since you NEVER EVER get non-stop flights from A to B when using miles, from my experience). Since I wanted to build a multi-leg trip (instead of a straight round trip), and American therefore insisted routing me thru various connections, I thought I'd turn that to my advantage. (Note: the human touch worked so much better than the website in this case --> worth the phone time waiting for them to tweak SABRE.)

Et voila! I will now also be exploring Tokyo and Kyoto on my upcoming trip! All 4 legs of my trip are in business class (YES!) and I will be travelling thusly (bold legs are FF tickets):

1. NYC - Toronto - Hong Kong (short layover in Toronto, Cathay Pacific to HKG)
2. Hong Kong - Guilin (Chinese airlines are quite reasonable)
3. Guilin - Shanghai
4. Shanghai - Tokyo Narita (Japan Airlines)
5. Tokyo - Kyoto - Tokyo on the bullet train (have a friend in Kyoto, and Tokyo's a little overwhelming on my own, so probably more time in Kyoto, which is prettier from what I hear [less bombing from WWII])
6. Tokyo Haneda - JFK (non-stop on American)

All told, I will be gone for 2 weeks, but with Memorial Day and a few business meetings sandwiched in, I should NOT blow 75% of my annual vacation days, maybe only 50% instead. Bonus!

So I've e-mailed all of my buddies in HK and Shanghai, and my friend Brian and his wife (hi Brian!) are not only going to help me reconnect with the people I met a few years ago, but also meet new contacts, what with the endless restructuring gyrations that have been going on within the company.

Hence, a photo of Chinese food to start this post with (heh) courtesy of Kam Man Foods here on Canal Street. (There are several other branches, if you want to explore their website.)

Today I've spent mostly on the phone with American, instead of prepping my taxes (ah well, there's always next weekend -- oh wait: I'm meeting my sister for a girl's weekend then, where I will also go to her hairdresser and finally ditch my grey hair). Ooops, better get cracking with that tax stuff soon!

Tomorrow morning, I'm going to try to get up early (stop laughing so hard! I can hear you from here!) and go to Sloan for blood tests before work. Then the results will be ready for my oncologist when I go see her on Thursday for my quarterly check up. If all goes well on Thursday, then I get upgraded to a semi-annual visit.

Tonight, I leave you with this clip of some haunting piano music from a recent episode of CRIMINAL MINDS (insert fangirl squealing: here) which has been on loop in my home, that and another song I discovered recently called Inner Smile (Scottish band named after a US state that hit the UK charts, recommended by a woman in Cyprus, where the official video showing the female lead singer REALLY resembling Elvis: dizzy yet?).

Here's a link to the official Inner Smile video, filmed in 2000 wherein the very attractive female lead singer resembles Elvis to a startling degree. The whole theme of the video (which is really very clever) is a '60s style tribute to Elvis and reminds me why k.d. lang used to be so appealing. Check out the official video for Constant Craving if you need a refresher/reminder.

The video BELOW is of an autistic character, and the music has obsessed the show's fans ever since the episode aired. What do you think, folks? Catchy tune, eh?

Purple prose

No pun intended, but good smut is hard work. Really, just like filming a "love" scene in a movie, writing smut seems much more fun-filled and glamorous than it actually is.

First, there are only so many ways to describe certain body parts without either (a) repetition, or (b) euphemisms that make me burst out laughing. I mean, if you get detailed at all, there are quite a few paragraphs to go where you describe, um, certain activities. And after 7 chapters, my readers have been quite vocal about wanting some action! Heh.

Secondly, logistical issues abound. You don't want to accidentally give your characters extra limbs or contort them into physically unlikely positions. I don't care if you work for Cirque du Soleil, some feats are simply not possible. Likewise, just as in a movie, continuity is key. Otherwise, an attentive reader will realize that you have given one participant two left arms. Since I am not writing for Star Trek or Babylon-5, this would not be helpful.

Why am I suddenly concerned about the problems or purple prose? Well, uh, remember how I mentioned that I've started to write fan fiction? (Criminal Minds is my only milieu, by the way.) I'm now up to 20,000 words, with 13,000+ hits this year, and 64 subscribers. (The photo above shows the statistical breakdowns the site provides to the author.)

Yes, 64 random strangers around the world have subscribed to my stories so far. Since I only subscribe to maybe THREE authors I'm kinda proud of that statistic. (There is a lot of dreck out there, as you can imagine.) The only downside is that now I'm afraid to read some of my favorite writers since I don't want to unintentionally absorb their ideas.

Imitation may be the sincerest form of flattery, but it's also known by another name: plagiarism. Oops.

In school, I always found that I did better in structured writing than "free topic essays" (i.e., write whatever you like, about anything you want; no guidance provided as to topic, format, etc.) which tended to make my mind go completely blank.

This is more like writing for a pre-established universe, a la Star Trek or Star Wars (a/k/a easier for first time writers like me). I'm enjoying the whole process of writing: outlining chapters, constructing imaginary homes with floor plans (more continuity concerns), considering where to end each chapter (I'm on 8 of 12+ for this particular story at the moment), and in general, building an overall framework for my characters to inhabit. Just ignore the part about them being from a TV show. ;)

Right now, I'm dealing with a nasty sore throat / cold / sinus congestion combination, so the behavior or my characters should be really interesting, since I'm feeling waaaaay loopy. (Can antibiotics make you lightheaded?)

And a visit to the dentist enlightened me as the the corollary of giant sinus headaches: toothaches. He showed me an x-ray where one of my molars is literally stabbing one of my sinuses with the roots of the tooth. No wonder my upper jaw hurts!

Yep, I'm a wreck. Took Friday off from work after the dental visit since (a) I felt like roadkill [coughing all night will do that to you], (b) wouldn't be productive at the office in that state anyway, and (c) the dentist told me I looked really run down [he's known me for over a decade -- he's allowed, heh] and that my cheek was all puffy and I sounded really congested. Translation: you're sick! go home! don't go out into the pouring rain and head to work!

There are many other things I need to catch you all up on, but I can only grasp one train of thought at a time in my head these days.

Huh. I've been awake for a whole three hours. Time for another nap.

THUD.

Telegram

Ok, I actually have lots of entertaining subjects to talk about, but right now, only 2 things really matter, and neither of them are fun.

My brother-in-law passed away today.

This is the 2nd anniversary of my lumpectomy.

Lots of mixed feelings about both, but nothing coherent right now.

More in a few days.

Thundersnow!

So yesterday's forecast was for 4-6 inches of snow. BZZZZZT! Survey says: 15" of snow in Central Park today. Unlike the usual Chicken Little routine of local meteorologists (or as my friend Sam mockingly calls it "Death Storm 20xx") they actually severely underestimated the snowfall. Plus, we had thundersnow -- that's twice in one winter.

Speaking of odd natural phenomena -- why are there still leaves on the trees in the traffic circle?! It's January, fer pete's sake.

Lessee, what else is going on? Well, I realized the other night that on January 30th, it will be exactly two years since my surgery. Holy tostitos, Batman!

That realization was an odd moment. On the one hand, it feels like so much longer than that. (Really? You mean I had four decades of life PD? [pre-diagnosis]) On the other, it seems like not so long ago. I guess two years is not that long, relatively speaking, but I remember with crystal clarity the day my doctor called with the fun news (12/30/08).

Of the 10 bullet points I listed in my previous post (I actually remembered more later) I accomplished exactly... one-half of one item during my staycation. Heh. My entryway area is now very tidy. Oh, and I did lots of laundry (clean clothes -- what a novelty!)

What did I do instead, you may ask? Why I wrote almost 10,000 words of fanfiction. (Yes, the superdork sign is flashing in neon lights above my head right now.) I find it absolutely flabbergasting that my stories have had over 5,000 hits, with over 3,000 visitors, and 40+ people (all complete strangers) subscribed to my work! Holy cr*p! As the Brits would say, I'm all chuffed :)

Besides the ego boost, the writing is actually sort of therapeutic, as my Pearl of Wisdom has helped me realize that I identify so strongly with certain characters because hey, the guy is very emotionally reserved (sound like anyone we know? oh yeah -- my last 2 exes. oh, and MY DAD) and the woman is outwardly confident but trundling around a wheelie full of baggage inside (ahem. no comment).

Yeah, Pearl is all pleased that I'll be working on some of my Issues "using a creative outlet". I find that I really do enjoy writing (heck, I even incorporated my panda fetish into the stories -- HA! so there!) and now I sort of understand why sometimes real (professional) authors say things like, "I honestly had no idea my characters were going to do that." Huh.

And now I can truly appreciate (quite viscerally) just how much work goes into well-crafted stories. Yow.

Okay, lunch time is OVAH.

Yeah, NYC public schools are all closed today (!) -- as well as "all non-essentiall NYC personnel" -- and yet my employer is still open. Boo!

(Ironic footnote: I leapt out of bed waaaay more promptly this morning than usual, in order to check to see if our office was officially closed. Heh.)

Warm and fuzzy

It's been an unusually harsh winter this year (in fact, we're due for another several inches of snow tomorrow night) so I've really been bonding with my Green Monstah and my new black marshmallow (which is the knee length version of this parka). Ironically, of course, I get killer hot flashes every night while I sleep (and on especially lucky days, during the mornings and afternoons as well), but hey, what can ya do? At least I'm still around to have them!

This frosty weather has been highly conducive to thoughts of Kittichai's Thai hot pot for my annual birthday dinner (no German food this year -- SHOCKING, I know) where endless plates of shrimp, (sushi grade) salmon, squid, mussels, beef, pork, and veggies arrive at your table, to be dipped into deliciously seasoned broth. Some of you may remember we attacked, er, enjoyed this repast in October, and evidently we rhapsodized over it so much that other folks were keen to join in this time. Heh.

Nothing else much is going on here (ah, the midwinter doldrums) except that I appear to have gained a grand total of 10-14 lbs over the winter (whoops), cleaned my place a little bit, since a friend's daughter stayed over here for the weekend (hi Pirate!) so there are actual patches of floor visible, and tonight, I tackled some emergency laundry (socks anyone?)

Am still deep in celebrity crush mode, so I ordered a boxed DVD set of Criminal Minds, seasons 1-5, on eBay as the syndicated versions on TV get chopped to bits to make room for extra commercials. Sigh. And although my fondness for cop/FBI shows has consistently manifested itself since grad school (hello? X-Files anyone?) the only problem is that some of the characters irritate the crap out of me (is it so wrong of me to feel gleeful when she got shot?)

So next week, I am taking off from work (9 office-free days for the price of 4 vacation days = a BARGAIN!) when I will have many many things to do (financial, domestic, correspondence & packages -- I owe you a great big old thank you, LQ!) and hopefully I can do them all to the accompaniment of a Thomas Gibson soundtrack in the background. *swoon* Heheheh. Yeah, I'm sick, but y'all knew that, right?

Weekend(s) in New England

So okay, I've always had a hidden fondness for this old Barry Manilow song, and since I've visited Massachusetts, New Hampshire, Maine, and Connecticut during the past 3 weekends, I figure I'm entitled to use it as my lead in. Heh.

The photo above, and at the end of this post are from Boston, during Halloween weekend, when I visited my friend Tamara. The photo right below is from my sister's front yard, where both she and I love the vivid red of her Japanese maple trees in the fall.

Despite the depressing round of layoffs last week (and the suspicion that there may be more in a few months), on the bright side, 1) I'm still employed, 2) with health coverage that sends me to MSKCC, 3) where my antigen tests all came back negative at the end of October. (Time for the quarterly happy dance!) Next check up is in March, and if I do well then, I'll graduate to semi-annual checkups! Woohoo!

By the way, dunno if I mentioned this before, but there is a certain habit doctors have which is understandable in terms of WHY they do it, but still makes you want to put your head on the table. I refer of course, to the classic exchange of "Does this hurt?" [poke, poke, poke] "YES! OW!!!!"

So the oncologist was examining me during my checkup at the end of October, and feeling for any new lumps (none, thank goodness) on both sides of my torso. This was when we both discovered that my left side is still extremely sensitive, and hurts when jostled, poked, or otherwise insulted, even though the surgery was almost 2 years ago (January 2009).

Her: "I see that this side is still tender." [poke, poke, poke]
Me: "Yes! Ow! OW!! OW!!!"
Her: "Yes, that's normal."
Me: [whimper]

Now don't get me wrong -- I like my onco-doc, and she needed to do that, but still: EEK!!! Ya know?

Yesterday's check up was with the surgeon, who was very pleased with my healing. Despite some slight keloidal scarring (what can ya do? the joys of an olive complexion; plus in the scheme of things, I don't really care, considering the alternatives) he pronounced himself very pleased with my progress, "A good result!" and said my next checkup with him would be in a year. Hurrah!

And I was amazed and warmed by the number of friends who posted happy comments on Facebook when I reported my avuncular, bow-tied surgeon's progress report. Wow.

I also cracked up said surgeon with my comments that it (the surgical scar) almost looks like a coin pocket, and about the poke-poke-poke issue. "Yes, doctors can be a pain, can't they?" (See? I told you I liked my surgeon.) Hey, did he make a joke?! I mean, he WAS smiling when he said that. Hmmm...

Speaking of health matters, I've been struggling with my weight lately but I signed up for the new WW session at work. Right now I seem to be going through a lot of stress / angry eating (which is extremely frustrating, since it has NOTHING to do with actual hunger -- it's never about the food: it's always about The Issues Underneath) but eventually I'll get my noshing under control (I think...). In the meantime, at least I'm gnawing on less bad-for-me food than I used to (e.g., roast chicken and roasted squash vs. fish & chips, or Kame rice crackers vs. potato chips) and eating better breakfasts (what is this croissant thing you speak of? I have not had one for years).

Okay, time to haul myself off to work. Ciao, y'all!

The Bee Gees

Just a howdy to say that I'm still alive (be grateful I don't post a link to a Stayin' Alive video here to emphasize the point). Lots going on (and yes, my quarterly checkup at MSKCC was fine -- yay, team) but I just don't feel very communicative lately. I think I need to go vent in my journal or something.

Well, the only decent thing about Daylight Savings Time (blech -- now it gets dark after 4ish in the afternoon) was that I at least got to catch up on some sleep: 20 hours this weekend, so I either had some severe sleep deficits going, or I'm a little depressed, or both.

Speaking of sleep, I'm going to bed (yes, at a shockingly decent hour) since I am on a perpetual quest these days to get to the office at a decent time, since I now sit in the fishbowl near a managing director.

Signed,
Your cranky friend in New Yawk City
where the leaves are finally starting to turn

Happy anniversaries & RTBT

So exactly a year ago today, I finished my last radiation treatment. I think that deserves a big "Yippee!" Don't you?

Thinking about that milestone makes me happy, and puts a smile on my face.

And thanks to the wonderful / weird / wonderfully weird world of Facebook, my upcoming 25th high school reunion this Saturday (oh my, I am THAT old... even my mom was amazed: "really? it's been 25 years?" yes, Mom, it has) strikes me as lots of fun and not angst-inducing. (By the way, The Social Network [a/k/a The Facebook movie] is very engrossing, even if you never use FB. It's more a story about creation, litigation, and shades of grey, plus it has a script by Aaron Sorkin, music by Trent Reznor, and solid acting.)

Thanks to the initiative of my friend Jane, the urging of coworker Dennis, and my memories of never photographing so well as I did during Jane's wedding, I will be following along behind Jane on Saturday to see the fabulously talented Laura Nadeau. Alas, no superfancy hairstylist a la Jenny, but yes, I am actually making an effort to go all girlie. Shocking, I know, but that's what a major reunion can do to even the most un-girlie girl.

The dress is something I bought years ago but have never worn. Through all of the ups and downs of my health rollercoaster the past few years, it has now ironically turned out to be just about a perfect fit, or will be after I have my mom shorten the hem to just above the knee. Like it?

The red bits are the satin "belt" that comes with the dress. I even have a matching clutch (please, pick yourselves up off the floor -- hopefully you didn't give yourselves concussions when reading that).

Oh, and today, we moved my desk from out of the fishbowl lane at the office (right on the outer corner of the aisle near the pantry, where everyone could see what was on my monitor/screen and each scrap of paper on my desk) to a cubicle one aisle further in, and one row further away from the traffic flow. HALLELUJAH! (When I told my mom about the original fishbowl position, she burst out giggling. Yes, giggling. Now you KNOW it's a horrible spot in the cubicle farm if even my mom laughs, as she normally reminds me -- and I agree -- that I should be happy to have a job.)

Speaking of jobs, I need to go to bed, so I will leave you with this song for your amusement, courtesy of my weekend immersion in NPR: The Vaselines play "Sex with an X," on Studio 360. I find the lyrics vastly amusing.