Don't Judge Me

Don't judge me, but...

-  I am really looking forward to being in bed by 9 tonight so I can eat some Muddy Buddies while watching Dance Moms.

-  Lately when I should be putting Henry to sleep, instead I get him all riled up.  He gives me kisses and then giggles and it totally makes my night.

-  My mood is partially dictated by how much breastmilk I have pumped that day.  It's weird.

-  Last week when I stayed home sick from work, Henry still went to daycare.  And then everyone still asked, "What are you doing with Henry today?"  I didn't feel guilty for sending him away from his sick mother to play with his friends at a place I pay for regardless of whether or not he is there.  Maybe I'm heartless.  Or maybe I found one of like 2 good things about being a working mom.

-  Henry has started biting while nursing.  And when I recoil in pain, he laughs.  It's cute and super painful all at the same time.  I'm not going to lie... some days the calorie burn is about all that keeps me breastfeeding.

{Working on his biting skills}

-  I really don't care for most country music, but I own a good majority of the Nashville singles.

-  I've decided I'm not going to stress about sleep training Henry.  He fights going to sleep like it is his JOB and I kind of think that is just his personality.  He is doing a better job of STAYING asleep and putting himself to sleep in the middle of the night.  And frankly, I like the cuddle time we get at night rocking.  My mommy instincts are pretty strong about this one.

We were just getting a little too healthy

I fear my blog is turning into a documentation of our trivial medical problems.  Better than a journal of our major medical problems (let's not any more of those, shall we cancer?).  ANYWAY...

Last week, Henry was showing signs of getting better.  He was sleeping better and acting more and more like him self.  Except he was having A LOT of diarrhea.  Like every diaper.  We were going through 3, 4, 5 outfits a day.  And on Wednesday, he started throwing up as well.  I know there has been a nasty tummy bug going around and there's nothing the doctor can do about it, but I figured I would call them anyway because 1) I'm a first time parent and that's what I do and 2) he still have a couple more doses of antibiotic left and I didn't know if we should even bother.

Basically they told us that he was probably having stomach problems from the medicine since it was THE WORST for causing diarrhea and throwing up was also pretty common.

AWESOME.  Let's use that one again PAH-LEASE!

Side Note:  Did I mention that his pediatrician complimented us on his "diaper care" at his follow-up appointment last week?  It seemed like a strange compliment at the time, but makes total sense.  And I have a weird sense of pride about it.

Anyway, I picked Henry up early from daycare, took him home and he acted fine.  We finished the medicine and he continued to act more and more like himself.

Huge exhale.

At time point, it was Thursday night and I didn't feel all that great.  Strike that.  I felt awful.  Like I wanted to claw out my own stomach.  Was this how Henry felt?  Oh man I sure hope not.

A little time on the bathroom floor and a sleep-less night later, I felt even worse.  Phil went to work, Henry went to daycare and I went to the couch.  Also, staying home sick is pretty much the most boring thing ever.  Somehow I managed to sleep some Friday night, but by Saturday morning I felt even worse.  Now on top of the tiny fever and body aches, my throat hurt like crazy.  And I felt like a huge baby.  Like a giant baby.  I had given birth, how could I not handle a little bug?

At my mom's urging, I went to Urgent Care and much to everyone's surprise (except my mom), I have Strep Throat.

I shouldn't be too surprised because it is one of like 8 things floating around a daycare.  But the last time I had strep throat was my 6th grade birthday party.  And I guess it is terribly uncommon for adults to get it.

Thanks daycare.  Apparently I lick door knobs or something.

But, good news, when adults do contract strep it usually hits them super hard and wipes them out.  That little gem was delivered by the Urgent Care doctor, to which I looked at him, raised my hand and said, "Um... yeah.  I know."

So I have spent the weekend desperately hoping I don't get Phil and Henry sick and doing my best to drink fluids since those were the doctors orders (because drinking anything when your throat feels like it is red hot and full of razor blades is so easy).  I'm no longer contagious and can get back to showering Henry with kisses and cuddles.  We both missed them A LOT.

{Dinner time is before bath time for a reason}

{Henry took a selfie}

We are hoping for a healthy week and (fingers crossed) rest of February.  Maybe I'll even blog about something else.  Don't get too excited.

Who will he look like?

I'm so curious about what Baby Janney will look like.  These pictures might help give some foundation.

{Phil's newborn picture / My newborn picture}

I guess we shouldn't be surprised if he is born with hair.

And perhaps the discrepancy in our cheek volumes is the fact that Phil was born weighing like 6 lbs and I was born weighing over 9 lbs.  Ok so Baby Janney will probably have my cheeks.  :)  Hopefully not my birth weight.

And yes, I was born with a perfect "blue steel" look.

Random Recap

I had topics planned for all of my posts this week and I only wrote 2 of them.  This wasn't exactly a "planned" post, but this week has been weird enough, that I was given enough crap to put together a random recap.  Lucky you.


-  Because I have "gotten" to have so many medical things done this year, I have also been given the privilege of paying a TON of medical bills.  Oh joy, I can sense your jealousy.  I had been putting off paying the last of them for a couple of months (just because I was tired of saying good-bye to my money), but finally starting getting scary letters so I had to do it.  I paid the LAST of them in August.  It was a painful and liberating experience.  But I was extremely miffed when I went through the mail the other day and found ANOTHER bill.  And I was especially upset when I noticed it was for a bill I had already paid!

So I called the company to sort this whole thing out.  I was prepped with my indignation, payment receipt, and credit card statement, but was caught extremely off guard when a breathy woman speaking very softly answered the phone.

Since I could barely hear her, I was really hoping that she would transfer me to someone else.  But as the conversation went on, I realized that this woman could also have doubled as a phone- youknowhwat operator.

It made it very uncomfortable when she said, "Mrs. Janney what can I do for you?"

She wasn't able to figure out my bill and promised to call me back this week.  I'm not looking forward to it.



-  As I mentioned earlier this week, my father-in-law will be starting oral chemotherapy for his Liver Cancer in the next week (hopefully).  As a part of the visit with the oncologist, they were given a great deal of information regarding the chemo, as well as advice and tips on dealing with probable side effects.  Because it is supposed to cause sores on the feet, it is recommended that patients receive a good pedicure prior to beginning treatment.  I believe the theory is that smoothing out the skin on the foot and moisturizing it will help minimize the sores.

Now that you have all vomited in your mouth, I will continue.

I'm sure it isn't a HUGE surprise to anyone that my 62 year-old, southern born and bred, engineer father-in-law isn't thrilled at the prospect of getting a pedicure.

Phil and I have decided we will be paying for and scheduling his pedicure for him.  It gives him fewer escape routes that way.



-  Cotton has decided he is part cat.

His new favorite perching spot is the window sill.  But he gets a little freaked out when he can't immediately get out of the curtains.



-  Phil knows I am a 5-year-old...

He packed extra candy in my lunch for me this week.  Gotta love that man.

I suck

I'm feeling pretty much like I suck today.

It could have something to do with the fact that I have a cold.  And you'd think after everything I have been through in the last year (fine needle aspiration, two surgeries, and a month of being hypothyroid) that I could handle a little cold.  But I am being such a huge baby about it.  It's even worse since I know that I really don't feel that bad.

I'm taking full credit for the fact that Shannon is no longer taking sponsor.  It totally is my fault.  I took my sweet dandy time getting back to her, which I'm sure she truly enjoyed.

And after looking at Jes' recap of the Color Run, I have realized I stand like a turtle.

Plus I realized this morning that I SUCK at turning in paperwork.  And it is costing me a lot of $$.

Example 1:  Phil and I got new glasses last summer and the glasses place wouldn't actually bill our insurance, but they did give us all the paperwork so we could do it ourselves.. I was double covered, so I would have gotten ALL of my money back.  But you only had a year to do it.  And I just didn't do it.  Awesome.

Example 2:  The rebate stuff for my contacts is sitting right by the bathroom at home.  Everything I need for the rebate: the form, the receipt, the prescription... everything.  Still haven't done it.

Example 3:  Phil and I had to cancel our trip to Georgia at Thanksgiving last year for obvious reasons (my neck biopsy and finding out I probably had cancer).  I had purchased travel insurance because I knew this was a possibility.  When we cancelled the trip last year, I got all of the paperwork together and filled out (including the physician's form) so we could get our money back.  But I never sent it in.  In my own defense, we could have used the tickets anytime before the beginning of September, so I was holding out hope we would be able to go on a trip.  But we never did.  I submitted that paperwork this morning.

UGH... I HATE when your own personal faults smack you right in the face.  My inability to pay bills and turn in paperwork is really beginning to annoy me.  It is definitely something I am going to change.

Man I suck.

Yelled At

Hello and welcome to the longest blog post for your Monday morning.  Please pull up a chair and grab your pumpkin spice latte.

A little while ago, I mentioned I was getting yelled at A LOT lately.

There were 3 days in a row that I got yelled at Thursday, Friday, and then 3 times on Saturday.  Sometimes I get yelled at and I deserve it.  I don't have as much of a problem with that.  But because I was so stressed at the time and I don't think I deserved to get yelled at, I found it a little odd.

Honestly, I can't remember what happened on Thursday.  But it was definitely a stranger yelling at me.

Friday, was the day of my scan so I was hungry and anxious to begin with.  Plus, I knew I would have to lay still for 45 minutes.  Turns out this scan was a little more involved than my previous scan, so it was going to be somewhere between and hour and a half to two hours.  Something about knowing you have to lie still for that long just makes you want to move.  REAL bad.

The tech had explained to me that I couldn't move once the CT portion of the scan started, but didn't tell me that I couldn't move between the nuclear scan and the CT scan.  So when she came into the room to kick Phil out, I turned my head to look at her.  And she yelled at me.

She seriously was pissed at me.

In my defense, I couldn't feel my hands or my feet.  After like 20 minutes of that, it seriously starts to get to you.

The first time I got yelled at Saturday, it was at PETCO.  You'd think a place that allows your dog to poop in the aisles would be pretty lax.  But no.  She was upset that I was holding Cotton near the kitten cages which they had set up in the dog treat aisle.  She said, "NO!!  We don't allow dogs near the kittens.  It freaks them out."

If you don't want dogs near the kittens, how about you don't put them with THE DOG TREATS!!  That really sends a mixed signal to the dogs, doesn't it?  Plus, I think it is good to know that the kitten would be aggressive to MY PUPPY.  Cause he's so scary.

Next, we were at the State Fair.  I guess while we were walking through the farm exhibits, my nephew David fells and got some cow poop on his hands.  All of a sudden, I see Nick wisk him off to the bathroom in a hurry.  He came back out like a minute later.  When I asked what happened, he said David had fallen down and then rolled around in feces.  I imagined David getting crap all over himself by the way Nick described it, so when I said that David didn't look that dirty Nick replied with, "WELL OBVIOUSLY I MADE IT ALL UP!!"

Okay...

We then made our way into the exhibit hall where they sell all the random crap.  You can get some knives, a sewing machine, and some Sham-WOWS.  Phil had wandered off to listen to someone trying to sell a pet brush.  According to the screens the seller had going, this brush basically shaves your dog it gets so much fur off the dog.  Well... I bought that stupid brush a couple of years ago and it doesn't work.  Not at all.  Not even a little.  So I said that to Phil.

Me:  Phil, we have that brush and it doesn't work.

Seller:  Excuse me?!?  This brush works.

Me:  Yeah... no it doesn't.

Seller:  Do you have a dog that sheds?
Why on earth would I have bought a brush for a dog that doesn't shed?

Me:  Yes.

Seller:  Well this brush works.

Me:  No, it doesn't.

Seller:  Well here's how it doesn't work (pointing to one tv screen).  And this is how it doesn't work (pointing to another screen).  And THIS is how it doesn't work (pointing to a third screen).  OBVIOUSLY these were directed by Spielberg since you say the brush DOESN'T WORK!!

At which point I wanted to call him a very bad name, but I didn't.  I walked off.

And I walked off wondering why the crap I have been getting yelled at so much?  Can't people sense my vulnerability?  COME ONE PEOPLE!!  My brother apologized.  He was just aggravated about having to clean animal poop off his child (which is understandable).

I haven't gotten yelled at as much since.  I have gotten flipped off while driving a few times, but that is probably par for the course.

You know who doesn't yell at me?

This guy.

Think Happy Thoughts

I've been having a rough couple of days.  I absolutely HATE waiting for test results.  Plus I found out that a baby (21 month old) we know (distantly, but still) has a very rare (but supposedly very treatable) form of brain cancer.  And someone else I know died yesterday from cancer.

It's scary.  And really sad.

I was all set to write a post about how sad and scared I have been/am, but then I thought better of it.

{image from HERE}

I can't let myself dwell in a dark and scary place.  Is life horribly scary and ridiculously unfair and at times extremely sad?  You bet.  But if we only focused on that, what an awful life it would be.  Plus, Phil gave me a small lecture Monday night about how I need to be more positive.  Like a LOT more positive.

Don't get me wrong, I am sure I will have a freak-out session today.  I'm sure I will have more than one.  I may even have a little bit of a Dr. Google relapse.  But I really just need to focus on positive things or I'm going to need some Prozac.  Stat.

So right now, I am going to focus on what is happening at this exact moment:

Cotton's Brittany traits are starting to really kick in and he is getting super cuddly.  It melts my heart.  I mean how could it not.  No joke, this just happened:

Plus I got my lazy betanya out of bed this morning at a nice early time so I could go grab a mocha from my favorite coffeeshop. 

And I think when my mind starts to wander to a place of worry, I am going to shift it and daydream about all of the things I want to do this fall. 

{image from Champagne Bubbles}

May the odds...

Another glorious weekend has passed.  It was filled with friends, family, and productivity.  I took no pictures.  Sad.

Friday night, Phil and I went to see The Hunger Games again.  We went to a little theater pub in town.  They show movies right before they come out for $3 per person.  They also serve beer and wine and food.  The food is actually pretty good.  I, of course, didn't get to have any since my diet has begun.  But I did enjoy a nice glass of Willamette Valley Vineyard's Oregon Blossom.  That wine is superb.  We toasted to Miguel.  Long story.

Phil and I had already seen the movie, but I really wanted to go again.  I think it is one of the best book to movie adaptions I have seen in a long time.  A few things did strike me this time when we were watching the movie (plus not none of these have anything to do with the movie):

-  The last time we saw the movie, I had just started my diet as well.  Why does it work out this way?  Does this have any implications for if I purchase the movie?  Or perhaps the pattern only applies to seeing it in the theater.  Of course I logically realize that this movie has nothing to do with my diet at all and that it is a little on the cuckoo side to draw a connection between the two.  Lots of logic over here.

-  Why am I seeing a movie about hunger when I am OH SO HUNGRY?  The first couple of days of the diet seem to be the worst.  Then things start to click and it gets easier.  But Friday night was the second full day and I was famished.  I bet Katniss has more than 5 ounces of meat a day.

-  The phrase "May the odds be ever in your favor" kind of bothers me now that I have cancer.  I don't know.  Something about how statistically, I should definitely be fine... I don't know.

-  Then realizing that it is important to remember that even when the odds aren't in your favor and things seem impossible, they aren't.  You have to fight.  Be smart and keep your head in the game.

{poster was sold by THIS SHOP, but is no longer available}

It was a lot to think about.  Don't even get me started on the political symbols I think are apparent in The Hunger Games trilogy...  I could go on and on.

Maybe this post was a little heavy for a Monday.

I'm looking forward to November 2013 when the next movie comes out.  :)

On a Rampage

After our late night rearranging our bedroom, putting together the new dresser, and completely freaking out our oldest dog Taylor (she had a major "Who moved my cheese?!?" moment), I looked into our guest room.  It was awful.

It had been awful for a long time, really.  We had been using that room to store a lot of things:  unpacked suitcases (including stuff from our honeymoon), things to give to Goodwill, an old TV stand, books to read, etc.  The previous night we had added the old dresser and my grandmother's vanity.  When we moved the vanity into the guest room, Phil said, "You can still use it to get ready.  Just do it in here."  The reality was, even though it was right next to the door, I couldn't have gotten to it if I wanted to.

I should have taken a picture, but I was too embarrassed.  I honestly looked like a room from Hoarders, but replace garbage with clothes and suitcases.

So while Phil worked on moving some shelves in the bedroom for me, I cleaned the guest room.  Cleaned out every unpacked bag, went through our old clothes in there, went through some shoes, went through our books, went through the boxes of stuff from my parents' house, organized our travel stuff, dusted EVERYTHING, vacuumed, and put together 5 full garbage bags plus a huge box of stuff for Goodwill.

Phil was very impressed with my efforts.  And so was I.  I had gone on a cleaning rampage.  It was me against the mess.  And I won.

Later, when talking with Phil, I discovered why it NEVER goes that quickly when he and I clean together.  When cleaning out the unpacked suitcases, I came across A LOT of band-aids and tampons.  I never like to be caught off guard, you see.  But when it came to cleaning out bags, I didn't want to have to keep track of those things.  I feel the same way about extra buttons, in case you were wondering.

So I ended up throwing away probably close to an entire box of both band-aids and tampons.

Phil's response: Why'd you throw those away?

Me:  We don't need them and they were in my way.

Phil:  That was very wasteful.

Me:  You didn't even know we had them.  You won't miss them.

Obviously this conversation revolved around the band-aids, since Phil somewhat refuses to even touch a tampon box (slight exaggeration).

Phil likes to look at every gum wrapper, every receipt, every piece of mail.  When I get in the zone, if I am not totally emotionally attached to something, it goes.

So after massive cleaning Saturday night and cleaning Sunday, I made a roast and baked potato for dinner and that peach cobbler.  I also created my own textile, fed the homeless, and solved world peace.  Obviously I am Wonder Woman.

Embarrassing

I go home every day at lunch to feed and let Cotton out.  Usually this takes longer than it should and I end up rushing back to the office.  Today was no exception.

But as I am getting in the car, some kids from the neighboring apartment complex yelled over at me, asking if I could throw their ball back over the fence to them.  I was in a rush and wanted to say no, but I kind of have this thing about being nice to our neighbors, especially the kids.  It's a survival tactic.  I really don't want our house to be tee-peed.

So I want briskly over to the other side of the street and pick up the ball.  Since I am aware that currently I have the upper-body strength of a 6 year old, I walked closer to the fence.  Once I was about 25ish feet away from the fence, I figured I was close enough and attempted to throwing the ball over the fence.

It hit the fence and rolled away from me.  Far away.  So I walked over and picked it up from under the neighbors truck.  I decided that THIS TIME, I would try kicking it over the fence.  Surely I could KICK the ball at least 25 feet.  I walked about 25ish feet away from the fence and gave it a nice solid kick...

Into the fence.

So I walk to get the ball AGAIN which had rolled EVEN FURTHER away from me.  I walked 25ish feet awa from the fence and decided this time I would kick it even harder.  I did and flew through the air...

Into the fence.

OH. MY. GOSH!!  This how now taken like 3 or 5 minutes and has been SO STINKIN EMBARRASSING!!

This fourth attempt, I decided to go old school.  Walk up to the fence and hand it to the kids on the other side.

It worked.

And one of the boys said, "Sorry if we wasted your time."

My time?  How about my dignity?

Who can't kick a ball over a fence?  Seriously.

I hate soccer.

Who doesn't love a good pelvic exam?

Disclaimer:  I know I have had quite a few deep and reflective posts lately.  Sometimes (and for most newlyweds in their 20's) life is sunshine and dancing in wheat fields.  But sometimes it isn't.  And that's just reality.  I promise I am still the funny, sarcastic, mildly bitchy person I used to be.  But life is different now.  And while the cancer thing is kind of behind me, it really isn't.  It never will be.  Hopefully you all aren't rolling your eyes and thinking "Gosh GET OVER IT!"  But if you are... Bite Me.  :)

It's been an interesting month or so.  There's several phases and stages of dealing with something like cancer/infertility.  The initial fear.  Then the shock.  The bravery and stubbornness that comes when you are going through the treatment process, which is also coupled with a little depression and self-pity.  Then it is over.  Elation comes.  And then things happen that bring the WHOLE THING come flooding back.

And that is what the last month has been.

Situations that are exactly the same as last year.  Doctor's appointments at the same office, in the same room, with the same doctor.  Follow-ups to make sure the cancer hasn't come back.  Hearing about other people's struggles and journeys through thyroid cancer.

I've tried to deal with it with a splash of optimism.  Saturday was the anniversary of when my nodules were discovered.  And I really wasn't sad or bitter about it.  I felt relief and excitement about the fact that my cancer had been found early, while it was easily treatable and the prognosis was excellent.  It was a day filled with gratitude and Phil and I celebrated with a trip to the dog park, a yummy homemade dinner, glass of sparkling wine and cuddling session on the couch.

But my annual appointment was hard.  It didn't help that I have PMS (never does).

First of all, it is some weird form of torture to be an infertile woman, sitting in the waiting room of an OB/GYN.  I want a separate entrance and waiting room.  Or at least give me an appointment time where I am not surrounded by pregnant women.  Could there have possibly been more pregnant women?  Many of them looking excited and hopeful, with their husband/baby-daddy by their side.

Gag me.

After making me wait 30 minutes past my appointment time, they lead me back to another room where they ask me if I am interested in any information on birth control.

Really?

I replied, "No thank you" with a smile on my face.

I finally get taken to my exam room (the same exam room I was in when she found my nodules), getting all nakie and prepped for my wonderful pelvic exam when I hear the rapid beating coming from the room next door.

A fetal heartbeat.

Geez.

After another 30 minutes of waiting, the nurse finally comes in while saying, "Well I'm sure glad we checked out your thyroid last year."

At this point, I had been trying to hold it together all morning (I was having a really good mascara day and didn't want to mess it up).  I used my 30 minutes of naked waiting time praying.  Praying for peace, praying that things will be alright, praying for patience and a kind heart.

It worked.  There didn't seem to be any real problems (fingers crossed). 

The nurse then talked with me about thyroid hormone regulation and the importance of not getting pregnant before my thyroid levels are stabilized.  She said it can take 6 months from the time of ablation to get things figured out.

Heck... I'm already 3 months past my ablation.  Half way through that 6 months.

There's the optimism sneaking in again.

I can't let myself get to a place where I am sad about not getting to be pregnant yet.  I need to give myself a break.  The bright red scar on my neck is a physical indication that things are still fresh and I am still healing. 

One step at a time.

It makes me all the more excited to meet with a new endocrinologist tomorrow.  That's the next step.

Aren't you excited you get the play by play of my medical life?  Yeah I have great boundaries.

I Like Reruns

For about the past 9 months or so, I haven't been able to watch new movies.  Or really new television.

Movies come out that I am dying to see... we really don't see many.  So when they come out on DVD, we buy them.  And then I still haven't watched them.

Books that I have wanted to read... I'm afraid to read them.  I tried to start reading The Book Thief, but when I realized (about the first page) that it was narrated by Death, I quickly tossed that book to the floor.  It will soon be finding itself at Goodwill I think.

I got a spotify account and have been listening to Disney music.  I find it comforting.

We watched a lot of stuff that I have already seen:

Gilmore Girls
Friends
Big Bang Theory
Friday Night Lights
Harry Potter
Couples Retreat
American President
The Patriot
The Good Wife
Old Seasons of Big Brother
Disney Movies

Or we watch a lot of crappy reality TV, which Phil is not such a fan of.

I just can't watch new stuff.  Phil finally got me to branch out and watch some Duck Dynasty.  But that was really only after he told me about most of the episodes.  And I did watch Big Love for a while there, but I always had the option of looking up what happened on wikipedia or IMDB.

I know this makes me sound like 20 kinds of crazy-pants. 

Phil and I were talking about it yesterday.  I think it is because the drama on movies and TV shows just freaks me out.  Life has been so complicated lately and full of drama... seeing how things could be even more dramatic just freaks me out.  Phil's response was, "But it isn't real.  It is fictional drama."

And he's right.  It is time to put on my big girl pants and branch out.

But not tonight... So You Think You Can Dance is on.  :)

What is happening to me?

My body used to be so predictable.  I knew exactly why things were happening.  Why my body felt a certain way.  How sleep really made me feel.  How much water I really needed to drink.  How caffeine affected me.  What caused headaches.  The number of days in my cycle and what PMS felt like.

It was glorious.  That kind of predictability was comforting and great.  Why was I cranky?  Probably because I hadn't eaten.  Why was I tired?  Because I only got 6 hours of sleep.  Why did I feel wired?  Probably the 2 cups of coffee.  How much water do I need to drink in a day?  A liter and a half was good.

I don't know crap about my body anymore.

Losing my thyroid to going hypothyroid, then to hyperthyroid, and finally (hopefully) settling on only mildly hyperthyroid has thrown my entire system out of whack.

My face is breaking out worse than it ever did in puberty. 

Days when I get little sleep, I feel fine. 

When I get get 8 hours, I'm exhausted. 

Coffee has NO AFFECT on me.  But I find I get very wired in the middle of the morning and afternoon for no good reason at all.

Apparently PMS now means I have cramps for A WEEK. 

I have this new form of cellulite that is disgusting and it magically goes away if I drink enough water.  My face also swells if I don't enough water.  However, it takes LITERS (like 3) to keep me from being dehydrated.  Do you know what it is like to drink 3 liters of water?  I'm pretty much either peeing or drinking water during the day. 

I'm hungry ALL THE TIME.  But I can get nauseous super easily.


Now that I have thoroughly complained, let me say that I am fine with all of this.  It is all still SO MUCH BETTER than being severely hypothyroid.  And it is totally worth it to not have cancer again.  I just need to adjust to it.  Figure out how much sleep I really need.  Find a face soap that works.  Use a heating pad for a week.  Carry snacks to go with the water bottle I have permanently glued to my side.  And make sure I am always near a toilet (or work on my squatting skills).

{Another picture of Cotton.  Has nothing to do with the post, but is too cute to not share.}

Stupid pants

I took my neck scar shopping this weekend.

Almost all of my work clothes come from The Limited.  All of my suits, dress pants, and blazers are from there.  Last week, The Limited sent me 3 different e-mails with information about sales and coupons.  One of the coupons was for 50% off up to 3 regular prices items.  That was enough to entice me to drive an hour to the mall.

So off to the mall I went Saturday morning.  I was really in the market for some ankle length work pants.  I must have tried on at least 5 different pairs of pants and only 1 didn't make me look like a fat cow.  One pair fit great and looked really good on, so I tried on another pair in a different color.  They didn't fit at all!!  The sales associate told me it was probably because the pair I had tried on first was probably stretched out from having so many other people try them on.  Thanks and gross.

My only option for getting more pants was to buy a bigger size, which meant I would have to get a size I had never worn before.  The larget size of clothes I have ever had to buy.

Not happening.  My pity party was about to start in the dressing room.

Really, I need to cut myself some slack.  I wasn't super happy with my lower-half before I found out about my nodules.  When you are trying to get pregnant, you aren't supposed to exercise a ton or restrict your calories so I hadn't been able to lose weight last year.  And then after I was diagnosed with thyroid cancer, I really didn't exercise any more.  I was busy, ya know, healing.  And even with losing the gland that controls your metabolism, I only gained about 3 pounds.  Not too shabby.

However, I also need to get my big butt back into the gym.  Sure there is a good reason for why I have gained weight.  But that is over know.  As far as I know, I am done with thyroid cancer treatment and am just in the monitoring phase (for hopefully forever).  It's time to put on my big girl (pun intended) pants and trim the fat.  Plus I need to be as healthy as possible, not only to help keep cancer from coming back but also for fertility treatments.  And if (God forbid) I were to get cancer again, being as healthy as possible can only help.

Stupid pants.  I should have known better than to try on pants.  It never ends well.

Food Lust

Wednesday at approximately 11:30 in the morning (PST), I stopped the Low-Iodine Diet.

*Insert cheers, choirs of angels singing, and me doing cartwheels down the street*

Side Note:  Technically, the doctor said I could stop it the day before, but I gave it an extra 24 hours for good measure.  I don't think I missed out by not eating hospital food.

And it wasn't a moment too soon.  The other day we were walking through the grocery store and I totally embarrased Phil.

This is a hard thing for me to do.  This guys knows EVERYTHING about me.  We tell each other absolutely everything.  Nothing is off limits.  While we may have had some boundaries in the past, this whole cancer process has definitely broken down any walls we may have had in the past.

Through out the entire shopping trip, I was telling Phil all of the food items I was excited to eat again.  Sandwiches on normal bread with mayo and mustard.  Milk.  Coffee with creamer.  Potato Chips.  Pickles.  Bacon.  Eggs.  Cheese (on anything).  Bagels with Cream Cheese.  Ranch.

We were walking down the frozen food aisle and when we past the frozen pizzas.  And that is when I let out a longing groan.  I guess it was loud enough that people turned and looked.  Whatever.

He thinks I may have developed an unhealthy attachment to food.

Living on basically fruit, vegetables, and nuts for a month will do that to a person.  Especially when the people around them keep flaunting food in front of them.  Still bitter about that one.

In case you want to reach me for the next few days, you may find me at one of the following restaurants:

- Padington's Pizza
- Hawaiian Time
- American Dream Pizza
- Sweet Tomatoes
- Big Town Here
- Red Robin
- McGrath's
- Sushi Restaurants
- Buffalo Wild Wings
- Thai Restaurant
- Any Italian Restaurant
- A diner for multiple breakfasts
- Every coffee shop I can enter
- Five Guys
- Burger Basket
- Konditerai

Of course I may also be vomiting from my gluttony.

{All pictures from my past posts of food.  Maybe I do love food...}

Iodine... I have missed you.

Athletes

Not being able to go out to dinner has forced us to be more creative with our dates.



Last Thursday, Phil and I decided we would go on a date to the batting cages.  We bought 12 tokens with 16 pitches each.  The goal was that we would take turns showing off our excellent batting skills.  I used to be pretty good, you know.  And by "used to be", I mean when I was 8.

I used 4 tokens.  Then I was tired.  And after 64 pitches, I hit probably a whopping 9 balls.

Phil did much better.  I didn't keep track of how many he hit, but I would guess that out of 128 pitches, he probably only MISSED 9.

Saturday night, we went bowling to celebrate our friend Ian's birthday.  Since the lanes were full when we got there, they gave up some complimentary pool (or billiards, if you will) while we waited.

{I was stripes, that's why there are so many of those.}

Phil whipped the floor with me.  Although I did manage to get in some pretty good and intentional shots.  And I never scratched, which I count as a victory for me.

Then came time for bowling.  Despite having to learn bowling in elementary school (yes, we learned bowling in P.E.), I am not all that good. 

{Cosmic bowling.  With the teenagers and middle-aged people.}

I did have a decent showing though.  95 the first game and 97 the second game.  Phil managed to get a turkey in the 10th frame of our last game.  Show-off.

After our weekend of althetic endeavors, I have decided that Phil is not attracted to me because of my batting, pool or bowling skills.  It must be because I look so cute doing it.  :)

I'm not sure batting, bowling, and pool are the best measures of my althetic ability.  But unless sleeping or sitting can considered a sport, those are as good as it gets.

Daily

I'm sure you can tell, but I have been having a difficult time lately.  So many things have been up in the air and I do a whole heck of a lot better when things are planned.  I like having plans.  I like knowing when things will happen.  And since nothing has been going smoothly, my patience (which I already don't have much of) is wearing even thinner.

Seriously... why can't this cancer stuff go smoothly?  How hard is it for someone to put the schedule together?  And how hard is it to make sure that the schedule gets sent out?  UGH!

Anyway...

We have some fun and exciting stuff to look forward, but it is still kind of far off.  Far off enough to almost be MORE depressing because I am pretty sure time is moving backwards.  I need something to look forward to RIGHT NOW.

Which is why I have decided to make a conscious effort to find something to look forward to EACH DAY.

Last night, it was putting together my chalkboard and watching Dance Moms.

Today it is finding out, one way or another, if my RAI treatment will be in April.  And the Hawaiian food I had for lunch.  And getting to see my nephews tonight.

Tomorrow... Well I am not sure about tomorrow, but I will figure something out.

You get the picture.

That along with lots of DEEP breaths and reminders like this:

{image from HERE}

{image from HERE}

{image from HERE}

Recent Purchases

Surgery is spendy.  Pretty much all of our money these days is going into my neck.  Or came out of my neck, if you will.  We are trying to keep extra spending to a minimum.  But sometimes a girl can't help herself.  Plus I had birthday gift certificates.

{I'm not even sure what it is about this show... but I am kind of addicted to it.  Of course, I could do without seeing Bill Paxton's ass, but nothing's perfect I suppose.  Plus I think Ginnifer Goodwin is the bee's knees.  Pretty sure my Radioactive Iodine seclusion will involve a Big Love marathon (if I can wait that long).}

{The other, I heard the author give an interview on NPR.  Sometimes it is nice to read non-fiction and I have always found public health to be a really interesting topic.  Karla, if you are reading this, I think this book is totally up your alley.}

{Boots.  I've been looking for the perfect boot for like 3 years.  I finally took the plunge after seeing Sarah's recommendation the other day.  I get the e-mail they shipped this morning.  Yay!}

2012 Goals

I know what you are thinking... 2012 started 2 months ago.  A little late to be setting out goals for the year.  Well, when 2012 began I didn't even know for sure I had cancer so I was a little apprehensive about what my goals would look like.  There were 2 very different paths:

Fight cancer or have babies

Since I ended up having cancer, babies were out.  Turns out you shouldn't have babies for like a year after the radioactive iodine.  Silly doctors.

Seeing how trying to have babies is what started this whole thing, we were even more devastated when the word "malignant" got thrown our way.

So it took me a little while to figure out what the near future was going to look like for us.  Not only was I not going to be having a baby, but I was going to need another surgery and oral chemotherapy.  Throw in messed up thyroid hormones and I pretty much knew 2012 was not going to be the year I lost a bunch of weight or ran marathons.  I needed realistic goals for what I would be able to accomplish this year.

I finally figured it out. 

{My birthday present.  And yes... that is a giant jar of Hersey's kisses.  Brandie and her daughter, Lexi, gave that to me as a get well present.}

I'm going to learn Spanish. 

I took 2 years of Latin in high school, which will prove to be really useful if Julius Caesar ever comes back from the grave.  Or if I decide to do my own translation of The Bible.  I'm pretty good with the NIV translation, so maybe a language like Spanish will be a little more useful.  Plus Jacob is in a Spanish/English immersion school so I figure we can learn and speak with each other.

One of Phil's friends, Tyler, learned Korean using Rosetta Stone so I figured I would give it a try for Spanish.  My parents and Phil's parents gave me some Amazon gift cards for my birthday which I used to purchase Level 1.

It came in the mail Tuesday and so far I haven't spent a ton of time working with it.  I have, however, learned to say "the girl drinks."  I'm practically fluent.

I have some other goals too, like clean the house more often, be better about hanging clothes up, be neater, etc.  But I'm actually really excited about the Spanish one.  We'll just see if my thyroid hormone hazed brain will allow me to learn.

P.S. - I wrote this post while Phil was ranting to me about Survivor.  If the words "fire", "tribal council", or "Jeff Probst" are in the post anywhere, sorry.  :)

Happy (belated) Birthday to me!

{My peeps circa 1989 who I actually got to see on my birthday.  We look a little different now.  I no longer sit on my mother's lap.  This picture is also missing a couple of spouses and some at the time non-existant nephews.}

Sunday was my birthday. It was just 5 days after my surgery. 4 days into the wonderful cold I have. My expectations for the day were pretty low. But I have to say, it completely exceeded my expectations.

There are several bittersweet things about cancer and having surgery. One of those things is that you find out who really cares about you. That can be a really sad and depressing thing, which I have experienced a little of. People you thought would be right there with you fall short. I know everyone has their own lives. People get busy. And a lot of times (I think this is the case right now), people don't know how to react.

The flip side of that is that you find out who really has your back. For me, this has been REALLY apparent over the last week.

And that has been totally awesome.

I looked back over my calendar for my 26th year of life and it was really hard. A lot of tough things happened. Some of those I have shared here. Some I have not. One of the things that made it hard was that I wasn't reaching out for people. But what I have really lately is that people have reached out back at me.

So I am starting my 27th year knowing that I have a bunch of people in my corner that care about me a whole lot. Maybe I should have known that all along. Either way, the reminder was a very nice birthday present.

I am hoping that 27 is a much better year than 26. I think it is the year of Natalie. :)