GoodToGo

Hey the wizard was great! Quick and tidy and totally charming and better yet I got out of there less 24 hours later. Hospitals are no place to heal in. It was the usual go round with the usual suspects in the hospital.

I was wheeled down from the recovery room around 8:30P and urged my erstwhile comrades (i.e. daughter and friend) to go and eat. They had been having a great time chatting and emailing and waiting for me to appear. I felt pretty ok considering that I had been blown up like a balloon and then filled with fluid. Just like one of those ingestible turkeys. Anyway after they assessed that I had indeed survived, they went off for dinner. I of course was also pretty hungry but was limited to crackers, not the chocolate sundae I was jonesing for.

My posse went down for dinner, I buffed up and took a quick few laps around the floor to check things out and because I knew that I had to get moving It was looking like a pretty quiet night on the floor and I found the fridge and the ice cream. Silly me, there’s always a Selma Screamer and this was not different. She was already moaning like crazy from the same surgery as I had (Mavis Staples says that you should always moan so the devil doesn’t know what you’re up to). I had a feeling it might be a long night.

Daughter and friend returned to say good night and bring me some more food. Remember I had done the whole Mr. Clean thing and an IV fluid is not my idea of something delicious, so I was delighted with the grub. They left at 9:30 and I could hear Selma warming up again. See the thing with this surgery is that you have to move to get things going again, and Selma was having none of it. I heard some heated words and then some more screaming. It was getting closer to shift change and I figured a few more laps would do me good and besides if I made nice to the nurses maybe I could get my vitals done first so I could actually go to sleep.

Nah, seems Perky Paula was being replaced by someone with a total tree on her shoulder, who was not happy to be a floater that night and had already heard about Selma. She wanted nothing of my upbeat attitude and I went back to my room to wait for Attila to come rough me up. I was not disappointed, and then we set in for the siege. Attila sent her deputy in every 45 minutes to wake me up, Selma kept up such a racket that at one point I heard her flinging things and someone yelling duck. (No lie!). This went on all night long. At 4:30A.M Attila decided to stop the line, but also to re-do the iv needle just for shits and giggles. She was muttering under her breath how she didn’t like the way the doctor had put the line in. At this point who cares, I’m not going to need it, but trifling with Attila was like trying to train Grawp from Harry Potter not happening. So a little more roughing up but I was released from the lines and started taking more laps. I wanted them to know I was hunky dory and good to go.

When the Wizard appeared at 7:30A and checked me out, he asked if I wanted to go and with a quick nod and a wave of his wand I was off like a prom dress. So now I’m home, hanging out, sleeping a lot and glad that this part of the dance is over.
Keep the faith ya’ll.

Update

Well, she's back. And sassy as ever. Mom got to her room around 7:15 last night. They got her settled and she wanted to eat. They did not want her to eat. But Mom usually gets what she wants. So gingerale and saltines later they were satisfied she could hack it. We took a walk around the ward, came back for some piquant apple sauce and graham crackers followed by a raspberry ice entremezzo. They went ahead and brought her a "box lunch" consisting of a decent turkey sandwich, a sad looking apple and a midget can of diet gingerale, which in her inimitable way, she Sally-ed up into something else. I was satisfied she was her own self and left around 10pm. I'm off to check in on her now. If all goes well, she comes home today!

ThanksForAllThePrayers

My mom came out of surgery a short time ago. The doctor said it went as well as it could. He literally said, "The cancer, if it exists was all contained in the endometrium" meaning that there is almost no chance that it has spread or that it will require follow up treatment. I know how much my mother has loved hearing from everyone and how much she appreciates the prayers and good wishes. I will post more as she recovers.
Best to all,
Zoë

TheNewOz

Hey, cool photo isn’t it? It’s the new Oz/Hogwarts. I’m on my way, and here’s the next part of the journey.

I have this odd perspective on what is about to happen. I know surgery is less than a week away, but I’m pretty cool with it. Perhaps you have to get to a certain age, or have been sick enough times to know that it’s part of life. The way I see this is that the surgery is going to really mess me up for a couple of weeks. I found out that it’s a long procedure (4-5 hours) cuz they can’t see too well in there if they do it laproscopically.

Now remember I hired the wizard because he could do it that way, but it does mean I will be under for a long time. And that plus all the digging and cutting is going to leave me pretty dinged up. When you think of it though, you just sleep through it, when it’s done it’s too late and eventually you heal. I’m not sure l I understand all the consternation people have over it.

I’ve also been struck by the reactions of a few people. Some start to cry, or get silent. Hey I’m not planning on dying, but they look at me as if I’m already a goner. I’m lucky my cancer can't compete with what our august senator from Massachusetts has. And frankly if I did I wouldn’t play pac-man with it. At that age, I’d just have a great time till it was done. I believe in quality not quantity, I’m not jonesing for the captain of the Olympic Living Team. (There are a couple other teams involving either vodka or bourbon that I might want to at least try out for).

I was with someone from church the other night. Her husband works in Zimbabwe. She was talking about my faith, and I stopped her. Yes, I have a good deal of faith that I will be exactly where God wants me when it’s time to go, but the deal is for people like Enos and me, we’re just not afraid of dying, and we figure we’ll be on time for the event when it comes. (And by the way, I'm not in the ballpark with Enos when it comes to tenacity and faith. I'm just a little faithling)

My daughter will update this blog when I’m a bit non-compus mentis. But keep the faith ya’ll, and if you can; remember it’s about walking humbly with Him, not always getting your way or making it happen.
See ya on the other side of the rainbow.

MrClean

It’s a good thing my pre-op directions didn’t come any sooner than they did. Wow, the preparations are pretty disgusting. I have never understood why people felt it a good idea to cleanse themselves from bottom to top INSIDE. The idea of a high colonic just doesn’t make it for me. Anyway, the directions tell you to get this really nasty stuff and mix it with Sprite (other nasty stuff) until all your nasty stuff is out. All I could think of was my gay friends and surely they don’t do this. Hey guys, I don’t need the information TMI.
Then there are the directions for not eating. I don’t mean the old fashioned NPO after midnight, I mean the no eating for 24 hours. Are you kidding? Ok, I can have broth and clear fluids, but see I’m not sick yet, so why shouldn’t I live like Nero the day before Rome burns, or better yet Marie Antoinette, I do love French pastries. No way, it’s sweet tea and popsicles and nothing else. You know the pity is I won’t have an appetite after they’re finished with me. Damn, I guess I better store up on chocolate now. My grandmother always said, “Eat desert first in case you die during the meal”. I am my grandmother’s child no doubt.

They’ve got me scheduled for surgery for 12:45P. Ok that sucks, cuz when you’re not first up you can wait forever, and usually you do. Last time I was so faint from hunger I had to have them put a line in me so I didn’t pass out waiting for the OR to be free. Believe me Dave wasn’t thrilled since he was good to go at 1:30P and wanted to be off to Savannah by 3P. I hope this time they just drug me up enough that I don’t care until it’s too late.
I often tell my clients don’t do unpleasant things more than once. Which means if you think about yucky things you are doing them because thought creates illusion, and then you get to do them for real. In this case I’m going to hide the ingestible Mr. Clean until I need to drink him up. No use thinking about a guy who lives in a toilet.

Keep the faith y’all

MeetMyDaisies

I have been struck over the past week by the kindness and outpouring of offers to help, to pray or just to be there for me and my daughters. It's like walking in a field of daisies on a perfect summer day.It has been a bit overwhelming actually, but I think it’s what God has in mind. You see when you are always giving, you cannot receive and you cannot let others move to higher ground. Only in the receiving, the greatest gift we give, do we offer ourselves as the means for someone else to feel good about themselves. Only from our brokenness and need,do we allow friends, even strangers to give whatever they have from their loving spirits. What an honor it has been, while I wait, to hear from so many. This is just the beginning, so I give you letters from Kenya and Boston to read so that you would have faith to reach out in your need or sorrow to others. Don't be afraid that they will let you down, that doesn't matter. It's all the beautiful daisies you will find that you didn't even know grow in your garden.It’s a walk of faith, but totally worth it.
Boston:

'To get something you never had, you have to do something you never did'
When God takes something from your grasp, He's not punishing you, but merely opening your hands to receive something better. Concentrate on this sentence..... “The will of God will never take you where the Grace of God will not protect you.” ( a client)

Susan,
I just read the blog. Whether this is appropriate or not, I just want you to know that I care about you. I am keeping you in my prayers and if I can provide you support I hope you will ask. (a client)
Kenya:
Susan,
I hope that this letter finds you well. I found your letter weighing heavily on my heart. Are you fine my sister? I am very concerned. Which type of cancer is it and is surgery the best remedy? We were looking forward to your visit in May and I am sorry that we will not see you so soon. Please accept our wishes and prayers of good will and health to you.
(minister in Nairobi)

Francis is my driver in Kenya

Dear Francis,
Mizouri sana. I hope you are well. Thank you for writing me. I must laugh about your comment about Mt. Elgon. No one in their right mind would go near Elgon. Unfortunately the doctors have told me I have cancer, and I must have surgery. That will push back my visit by a few months. I am very sad about not being able to return to Kenya, not worried about the cancer. So I re-booked my tickets for the first week in October. It is hard to wait that long, but the doctors don't think I can weather the trip before that.
I will keep in touch and let you know more details as I hear of them. Give my love to John when you see him.
Asante Sana Mim Ndugo,
Atieno

Dear Atieno
Pole sana,I know you are a strong Lady and you will overcome that but right now you should put your health first. I put you in my prayers always and also you can read psalms 23 i believe it will sooth your heart.Don't you be so worried about returning to Kenya, coz when you will come everything will be fine,i also know you are worried about the 3M in Nambale.Bye for now and feel better soon,Francis.


I cannot list them all, for my cup overflows. Please gentle people, know that all is well. I am totally in sync with this journey and I’ll be going home to Kenya as soon as I can. In the meantime, do join me for this journey. It will be worth the trip.
Keep the faith y'all

OnTheRightTrack

Track 9 ¾
You see it was most necessary that you read about Oz before you could come with me to this new place. How freeing to be rid of the anger and arrogance of Oz. I was now standing on Track 9 ¾ with an extra portkey just in case.
I had set up a meeting with the new Wizard with his secretary whose manner was definitely a Mrs. Weasley type if ever there was one. Eager to reassure me that she would fit me in, I actually had to calm her down a bit and tell her that just as there’s no crying in baseball, there’s no tweaking with cancer and that I felt certain she would find an appointment.

Indeed she did on 30 April, however the very next day the new Wizard himself called to cancel and reschedule. Now first of all I never heard of a Wizard personally calling a Griffindor, Ravenclaw or a Hufflepuff, but indeed he did. He did give me a new appointment that I could not make. Mother M did need to go to Jazz fest and have some bevies after all therefore the following day would not do. Back to Mrs. Weaseley and bingo an appointment on 30 April at a time conducive to all sorts of good things.

I arrived at the castle exactly on time. I was well equipped with my ipod for bible study and music, figuring an appointment at 12:30P was probably going to be a 2-hour wait. Remember I am used to Slitherin Surgeons who think that all they do is so important that waiting for them only means the patients will be more in awe of their importance and stature. I had no sooner settled in, didn’t even get the earphones in place when Weasley called me in. Not in, "take off your clothes, freeze and wait," but right into the inner sanctum. There sat my Sirius, young albeit but definitely out of Hogwarts for a good long time.

I must digress a moment and tell you that both my daughters and I are rather medically savvy. Within hours of getting the news, both had gone to the appropriate medical sites and checked out the surgical options. I went on the Mass. Medical website and checked out the credentials of the potential candidates and definitely liked the looks of the new Wizard. I even read some of his publications.

So, we’re chatting away, Sirius and I, he shows me all the drawings, discusses the statistics and says something about a second opinion. I looked him dead in the eye and asked him why would I want that. He sort of choked and referred to people questioning him about his age and I told him I figured him for 39. (Mother can do math, and I knew when he graduated from the various schools and fellowships). He told me he was going to be 40 next week I asked him how he was doing with that and he smiled saying “Wow you really understand.” Instant comrades. Hired him on the spot, much to his surprise. Hey why waste time when you’ve got a nice Wizard?

Next move into the exam room and then set up the op date. Mrs. Weasley tried to move the schedule around a bit to make it sooner and I once again reiterated that we’d get the job done. She told me I was her new best friend when I agreed to 29 May instead of 22 May (ah beginning of the long weekend. What ever happened to Memorial Day on 31 May I’ll never know. And this year it would have actually been on the right day).

Signed the papers, set up the other tests, got the pre-op date and was done in 1 hour. I felt like a glass of pumpkin juice was definitely in order. The only thing that made me sad was that Weasley and Sirius were shocked that I took them on right away. I guess they are used to tire kickers and he’s used to being passed over for more senior folks. Frankly I’d far prefer someone his age who has steady hands, knows the latest, and actually calls the patients himself. Yeah, definitely good to be in the Castle. It’s like I get to go to the banquet and leave the whumping willows behind. Yee Haw!

Keep the faith y’all

OutOfOz

To know where we're going on this journey, you need to know where I've come. This is a post I put up on another site that I wrote in the fall of 07. But if we're going to have fun here, you gotta know about OZ if you are going to join me in the new castle with the new Wizards.

So I bring you Out of Oz
I fired my primary care physician today and I felt totally liberated. Ding-dong the witch is dead!!. Once upon a time when I lived in Oz and I had the Wizard for a husband I got the finest of care. I always saw the chief of the department and there was a lot of bowing and scraping that went on because I was married to the Wizard. Divorce altered all that.

Once I left Oz and the Wizard, things changed rapidly. I could no longer play with the munchkins and none of the other lesser wizards wanted me as a patient. I had to wait for a new, younger, Ozling who turned out not to be a wizard, but a witch. Since she was new to Oz she agreed to take me on as a patient. Well, honey, she may have attended the right medical school and done her residency at Man's Best Hospital, but she got her bedside manner from Attila the Hun and Voldemort. I still got to see the Chief Wizards at other hospitals( for things like parasites and malaria and female things) They didn’t think I needed to have water poured on me in hopes of my melting. And they continued to prescribe things like Hormones. But baby witch would snippily tell me she didn’t think they were a good idea, despite what the older wiser Wizards thought. I had hoped that if I ever needed a doctor, by that time, she might actually turn into a kind and gentle Wizard of the Dumbledore kind. Alas and alack that was not to be.

As the yearly visit to the witch was approaching, I received an interesting letter in the mail.It was an evaluation form to review my witch bitch. Seems my health insurance company wanted me to review the Witch. Wow, I was psyched. I set my trap; I set up the appointment and waited for the anointed day. I have had a few things happen this year that most people don’t get, (i.e. Tuberculosis from my driver). It was in my record, would she ask? Nope. Would she question the broken shoulder from the jeep accident? Nope, just said you must have osteoporosis and ordered a test that was totally unnecessary. Frankly I came out better than a lot of folks on that accident. If I hadn’t gotten my brains from the Scarecrow, this Witch might just practice such poor medicine that I could actually end up in the hospital.

I clicked my heels 3 times and was out of there. And, being that the Scarecrow, the Tin Man and the Lion encouraged me to give this Witch the heave ho, I did. Then I had to finagle seeing a new and powerful Wizard in a different land. Hell, I didn’t want a new baby wizard who was younger than my children and clearly got the creeps when she knew I had malaria. So, I went on the Mass. Medical Board website, picked out a couple wizards who looked good to me, called them up, told them what I did (I cheated a little and found Wizards interested in 3rd world countries) and presto, I’m off to see the new Wizard.

The moral of the story here is that we mustn’t tolerate bad medical care. We mustn’t be intimidated by Wizards or tolerate baby wizards who call us by our first name while requiring us to call them wizard. We must recognize witches and pour lots of soapy water on them. And most of all we must believe in ourselves and whenever confronted with a not so good wizard, click those red shoes and leave Oz.
Be good to yourselves y’all.