"People interest me. Conversations don't."

You may recall a snippet of a post where I spoke of our live commentator during the Olympics.

Well, she's back.

Alls I was trying to do last night was catch up on a couple of my shows. Oh, before this, she told me that she's been watching House reruns, so she wanted a little update on why certain people were missing, what was going on, etc. First I watched One Tree Hill (I just LIKE it, ok?). She was gracious enough not to ask too many questions about the show, but she still wouldn't SHUT UP. She talked and talked and talked. I even paused it a few times so my full attention could be focused on her. And it's not like she was in the next room - she was sitting on the other couch and could clearly see that I was watching this show. Even though I knew better, I decided to watch last week's House. I should honestly just re-watch that episode. I usually keep the volume at 8, but she kept saying, "What, what?" So I had to repeat everything back to her. I finally cranked that bitch up to 16. What makes it worse is when it was over, she says, "Don't you just love watching tv with me? You can't hear, can't pay attention, have to crank it up..." and then giggles. I just smiled and told her to watch whatever she wanted.

Private Practice comes on tonight, but maybe I'll just wait until next Friday to watch it.

Endangered Boobies Month

In honor of the Endangered Boobies Month (not to be confused with the month honoring extinct boobies), I'm going to talk about my MIL.

In October 2006, during a routine checkup, it was discovered that MIL had a small spot on her breast. It was biopsied and found to be cancer. Luckily, though, it was Stage 0. Now you're probably thinking, how is there a Stage 0 in cancer? Well it was so minute and so contained that they caught it in its earliest stage. I think it was just a few cells (few can be a couple hundred, mind you) that began clumping. The doctors told her that it was so early that she never would have found it during a self-exam.

At the end of November, she had the mass removed. In December, she began radiation treatments. By February, the skin around her breast, underarm, and the bottom of her arm were red and raw - like a really bad sunburn - and she was constantly applying cream to keep it manageable and somewhat bearable. During all this treatment, her dad was struggling to stay alive and eventually passed on February 15th. I don't know if she ever told him that she wasn't well. By mid-March, she completed the radiation treatment. By the end of April, she found out her first grandchild would be born in December, and her fear of the cancer was multiplied by a million. Every six months since, she has gone through rigorous testing to ensure that the cancer is still gone. She just finished another round of testing (bloodwork, MRI, ultrasound, etc.) and feels even better about being healthy again. She said to me that with each round of tests, she begins to feel better about the results, and instead of it being a burden, it's becoming a reassurance. I asked how long would she have to do the twice-yearly testing, and she said that she has a friend who was just cleared of her twice-yearly testing after 12 years of being cancer-free. It becomes a long, arduous part of your life...but better safe than sorry.

Off the top of my head, I can't think of anyone else in my life that has dealt with this. She has no idea if it runs in her family because her mother was adopted. Her mother died of cancer but not of the breast. I believe it was stomach.

Because of her experience, she hates Breast Cancer Awareness month and all things pink. I don't know if it has something to do with being diagnosed during that month and then every time you turn around you're reminded of it with all the pink crap everyone makes or what, but this just isn't her favorite month anymore. Anyway, she's an artist and has decided to paint a piece that will be donated to a cancer wing at a hospital near where they live (I believe its the hospital she had all her care at). When they went to Europe in May, she took lots of picture of the neat door knobs in London. The title of her piece..."Knockers."

She is one creative lady, and though I may bitch about her, I do love her dearly.

And I'm grateful to God that she's well.

Gettin' all political on yo ass

I DO NOT discuss politics. Anyone that has a different view than you thinks theirs is right, and I refuse to defend my beliefs or why I've chosen the candidate that I have just so someone can tell me I'm wrong.

But after hearing this, I had to post it. I can't begin to tell you how much this makes my blood boil...

http://www.bpmdeejays.com/upload/hs_sal_in_Harlem_100108.mp3

I've said it allllll along.

This may sound ridiculous to some, but with all my being, I believe that voters should have to take competency tests on the issues before they're allowed to vote.

Some people are just fucking pathetic.

It's mah birfday

Mary will be turning one in just two months, and I've really got to get the ball rolling on her party planning. Any advice/ideas would be much appreciated. Here's what I have to work with:

• It will be winter...the average temp around that time is the mid-40s. Last year was a tad warmer; the year before we had snow.
• We have a small dining/living area.
• We have a decent-sized garage where I could hang some pretty tablecloths/sheets to hide all of Dick's shit. The garage is insulated, and it takes just one small heater to keep that place warm.
• Every kid invited (except 1) are 3+ years old.
• I would prefer not to have a cartoon-y theme but am open to a seasonal theme.
• There is always room for a pinata.

Please help!

"It's a letter confirming your reservation at the nut house."

According to my new therapist, I have Adjustment Disorder. I really don't feel like going into exactly what that is, so click the link if you're interested.

At least it ain't schizophrenia.

And in more news, Dick and I celebrated our three-year anniversary last Wednesday, the 8th. I had every intention of blogging about it, but we've been going non-stop. I came home from work early because he was supposed to go to physical therapy and then to work, but he was drinking a beer instead. He had taken the night off over a month ago and canceled his PT! I was completely surprised. He took me out to eat at Cavallino Nero (AWESOME Italian joint) and then we had dessert at Simply Fondue. It was so nice. Early Saturday morning we drove up to the Pocono Mountains and spent the night. We had such a good time, and I'll try to blog more about it when I get the pics off my camera.

For now, this crazy has to get some sleep.

Poor Grandma

I promise I haven't fallen off the face of the planet. Things have been a little crazy. My grandma is, well, dying. I got a call last Tuesday saying she's now got Congestive Heart Failure (this, along with emphysema and COPD). I went back and forth for days trying to figure out if I should head to Oklahoma. Do I go now? Do I wait until the funeral? Will she make it to Thanksgiving?

And then I talked to my cousin. Grandma has been really incoherent and disoriented because of her oxygen, potassium, and magnesium levels. In the midst of all her incoherency, she asked for Mary. Knowing that made my decision. I booked a flight on Wednesday and was in Dallas on Thursday morning at 10:50. She definitely did not look much like the 6', 220-lb. Grandma who I knew. She was thin. She was frail. She was in ICU. She, however, knew exactly who we were.

Over the next couple days, she continued to improve every day. On Sunday, however, she took a big step backward. She thought all morning that she was in jail and was telling me this crazy story about how she went out the night before and was arrested. She kept asking me to look for things...panties and gowns in drawers and closets that didn't exist and Diet Coke in a refrigerator that wasn't there. She asked me to look in the garage for a Diet Coke, and I knew then that she thought she was at home. A little later when my aunt and Granddad showed up, she looked me square in the eye as her eyes welled up with tears and said, "I know why you came to see me. You thought I was going to die." It took me by such surprise. All I could do was tell her I missed her and hadn't been back since June, so I came to visit.

I had to leave right after. My aunt thought her oxygen levels were off again, but it was actually her potassium and magnesium. I also found out that she's in the end stages of COPD (Stage 4 - very severe COPD). I don't know how much longer she's got. It scares me so much. I have to say, though, that I'll never regret going to see her. She got to see Mary, and we got to see her. Even if she lives for another ten years, I'll never regret booking that flight. I know that Mary being there helped her, and that she truly enjoyed seeing her. I just want her to be comfortable, to not suffer anymore. I want her to remember more and be less confused.

I just want my Grandma back.