January One

Super humoungous out of control points to whomever can name the song I mangled for today’s title. Seriously. You will get huge props here at January One.

Sooooo. Where was I? Oh yeah. Coming off possibly the worst weekend of my life, we now have no more information than we did when we started. Well, that’s not exactly true. We’re a bit less worried that the melanoma has spread throughout his body – basically because he’s had a chest x-ray and blood work up the wazoo in the past 30 days and not one test came back abnormal – so we’re taking that as a good sign. Please don’t tell me to think otherwise. I beg of you. Also, the lesion they removed was 1.4mm which in melanoma terms is not fantastic, but it’s not super bad either. Although we have reason to believe it’s probably thicker than that because the melanoma had spread to the margins. Bottom line is that he’s got an appointment at Sloane-Kettering next Wednesday and hopefully we’ll know more then. The next step is a sential node mapping and only then will we have the information we’ll need. I don’t know when that will be scheduled.

For the next week, or until we know something definitively, we’re trying to get back to normal. As normal as normal can be once Cancer has stepped into your life. Adapt or die. And dying is absolutely NOT an option.

What’s normal for me? I’m still working, which is good. Keeping me busy. And my house is an absolute disaster, so I have some huge cleaning/organizing projects to look forward to now that G won’t be home from the surgery – or at least not the surgery we thought he’d be home from. And knitting. Blessed, blessed knitting. I picked up the Casino shawl a few days ago and managed to work through about ten rows slowly. I like it pretty well, but it’s still very hard to see the pattern emerging – I haven’t even finished one repeat yet – and the rows are very long.

Today, though, after reading Margene’s post, I became obsessed with Ariann! I’m hoping to use some Jo Sharp I’ve got in the stash, but I’m not sure and of course I want to cast on RIGHT NOW. I can’t imaging anything better than wrapping myself in a soft sweater. I wish it was done already.

Thank you all for your comments and concern and love. It means so much to us. For right now, though, I’d like to get back to my crazy fucked up kind of normal. Next time I know anything, I’ll be sure to share.

L, C

It’s officially official. I HATE Thanksgiving. Hate it. Will never ever never enjoy it again.

Four years ago on the Wednesday before Thanksgiving, G and I found out that we would have an incredibly difficult time getting pregnant.

I thought I hated Thanksgiving then, but now the deal’s been sealed.

My beloved husband won’t be having surgery on Monday to fix his damaged hip – the one that gives him so much pain sometimes he can’t sleep at night. Why won’t he be having this surgery? Because he has Skin Cancer. We found out today, the Wednesday before Thanksgiving, that the lesion he had removed last week is Melanoma.

You know what? I’m not thankful. I’m not thankful that my young beautiful courageous generous adoring husband will have to face yet another physical battle. I’m not thankful at all.

I give thanks every single day that I’m lucky enough to spend my days with this man. Why should I have to separate out a special day to do that? Especially a day that gives me no thanks back.

Bitter? You bet. And I’m not going to apologize for it.

I’m closing the comments on this post because honestly I can’t deal with all the good wishes and stories about this person or that person who survived the mole they had removed above their ear. I want to feel badly and I want to cry and I want to go and hold my husband.

I’ll be back on Saturday to sell shit, because, well Daddy needs another new doctor.

I am thankful for one thing, though, and that’s you. Thank you for reading my blog.

Something’s wrong with me. I’ve been working so hard, so efficiently it’s like I’m a shark and if I stop somehow I’ll die. Stress has pushed my normal waking time back an hour and stretched my bedtime to the wee hours. I’m crazed; last night I actually did something so productive, so pre-emptive that I’m beginning to scare myself. For each job I send out, I wrap up the box top that the album I give with the photo package comes in (it’s got a big label on the box and the box is black and the label’s white and it’s an odd size box precluding me from buying plain empty boxes so this is the best way I’ve found to cover the label.) It’s sort of a pain – something I usually leave until the last minute and then rush to get the job out and spend all day preparing stuff and I always say I should really take one day and wrap all the boxes so I can just pull one off the shelf, etc. etc. LAST NIGHT I WRAPPED TEN BOXES. This is unheard of in my little world. I’m actually prepared for a change.

And not only am I working hard to get everything done, but I’m churning out some of the BEST work I’ve ever produced. Photographs that make me feel incredibly proud of my work. Like I’m not some faker with a camera. I wish I could show you some of my stuff, but I don’t really feel comfortable with that – I do photograph kids for my living and every picture I show has a signed model release behind it. I take this Internet stuff seriously.

I’ve got three more shoots this weekend and then another incredible push to get the work out next week and then my season is essentially over. I won’t be shooting anymore. I really wish we could just cancel Thanksgiving. It would make my life SO much easier. SO MUCH. As it is I think I might just be running down to Philly for dinner and coming right back up. I’ve got ten days to get as much done as I can. Ten days. And my house is in incredibly bad shape. That needs to be taken care of before G comes home from the hospital.

Knitting is non-existant. My poor Casino shawl lies in it’s half tinked-back row state where I left it LAST Friday. Yesterday I sat in two doctors’ offices, a hospital waiting area and the DMV and I didn’t take out my knitting once – even though I had two socks and the shawl with me. Yes, folks, it’s come to this. I’d rather stare at the walls at the DMV than knit. It’ll come back – there will be lots and lots of knitting time next month.

Yesterday also marked a new day in my relationship with my husband. I had to give him an injection – and I’m gearing up to give him the next one shortly. The doctors want him to take Procrit for the next ten days to boost his hemoglobin before surgery as a precautionary measure against blood transfusions during and after surgery. His hemoglobin is normally a bit low due to Thalassemia – a condition prevalent among Meditteranean types, i.e. Greeks and Italians. (Specifically he has Beta Thalassemia Minor.) So I’m giving him shots. Good thing I’m an old pro at it having given myself shots for the IVF. They’re little insulin needles – barely a prick, but still. I never thought I’d ever have to do this. The doctor told us this is what the athletes take when they do blood doping. That made G feel a little bit better about it.

And just so you don’t think it’s all fun and games over here – there’s an emotional element as well. I think I might be working so hard – working so freaking efficiently and single-mindedly – to keep my fears at bay. The other night it didn’t work so well. I was multi-tasking in bed – writing lists of all the things I need to get done before the 27th and while simultaneously editing Yarnival! when suddenly I remembered I needed a shower. (Yeah. That’s how bad it’s gotten.) So I flipped back the bed covers and headed to the shower. When I got back to bed I discovered that I left a hot pink sharpie open on the bed.

My brand new midnight blue duvet cover and my gorgeous new down comforter were covered in hot pink ink. I literally became hysterical. I haven’t cried that hard since the summer. 😉 Georgie came running into the bedroom thinking I was dying or something and he was so upset that I was so upset which only made me more upset. This just about killed me. The next day I went out and bought a new duvet cover. Excessive maybe, but it made me feel so much better. The stained one will go on the guest bed. The down comforter, well, now it matches the old comforter which had a huge ketchup stain on it. Don’t ask. I’m consoling myself with the fact that it probably didn’t ruin the down and the comforter will always be inside a duvet. Still, though, I want to cry everytime I see it. Judge my drama not, less you leave a sharpie open on your bed.

Posts will probably be sporadic at best for the next couple of weeks. I’m afraid that sitting in the OR waiting room will be the first time I actually stop moving in weeks. I just hope I can knit.