I never blog when I'm happily distracted by life's insignificant time wasters.
It's only when I am stuck in a rut and needing to make some changes.
My grandfather was diagnosed with cancer. We're still going through the processes of getting scans and blood work so the oncologist can rate him, and then figure out a course of treatment. This is Gramps' second go-round with cancer, he had his bladder removed four years ago. No chemo or radiation. But this time it's more serious stuff. The cancer is choking his esophagus and he's on a liquid and pureed food only diet, per his surgeon.
And I thought I was ok. My cancer was successfully cured ten years ago.
I'm only "being there" for my Grandparents. This isn't my fight. I'm going to appointments, taking noted and translating way-too-fast-for-a-mindblowingly-serious-subject doctor-speak into normal people and a profoundly hard of hearing grandfather's language, because I understand the lingo and the acronyms and know what's coming next so I know what questions to ask.
I went into it blind; a scared ass, super sheltered 22 year old, away from home in the military, with a rotating assortment of also-military friends and coworkers taking me to appointments and chemo.
While also coming down with Fibromyalgia (However the medical community defines it this week, it's sort of overactive nerves that just transmit PAIN PAIN PAIN, except it's more than that), and having a body that was letting me down more and more, so I needed a cane to support myself walking and I was in so much pain I was on morphine, Vicodin and muscle relaxers. My 2-3 times a day gym-and-workout-habit body was failing me, at 21 and then 22 years old and no one knew why and they ran so many tests and found nothing.
And then they accused me of being lazy and faking it when they couldn't find anything physically wrong with me, and I was so scared I'd end up in a wheelchair and SHIT WAS SCARY
ANDI LIVED ALONE, FAR AWAY FROM HOME.
And then they found cancer and I was so relieved.
So anything I can do to shed a little light into that scary dark cave, I'm there.
Cancer, for the patient, can be pretty simple.
You take it one appointment at a time. You try to focus on the good days, on what you get to do and who you get to see on the days you don't need to go to the hospital. Life gets pretty simple, you just try to enjoy all of the little things, and you take the big stuff one appointment at a time.
You really have no reason to be afraid until you get your scans done and analysed. And they get your blood work back, and they take the surgeon's assessment or the biopsy results into consideration, and they make a game plan.
People who have gone to school for years and years make up a game plan for how to kick your cancer's ass, based on the science that has worked best for other people who have kicked this cancer's ass. You can trust your medical team, because they know this shit. You are at the mechanic who specializes in this one thing, and you can take their game plan and look it up for yourself because we live in the information age!
And then you either go with the game plan, or you make a new one.
Either way, it's one appointment at a time. And they monitor your blood work or the do more scans to make sure the game plan is working. They adjust if the plan if they need to, and you keep on kicking that cancer's ass.
It's easy.
But LIFE.
Oh dude.
In Life it's so much harder to find the experts to consult with.
Every person on the internet thinks they're an expert.
Look at this chick right here^ telling you cancer is easy. What kind of idiot says that?
So tonight Dog refused to go to bed.
For at least an hour, we played the game.
"Go potty outside."
Come back inside and get a "Good girl treat" in bed. (Literally three squares of her food).
Human lies down to attempt sleep.
Super soft whining and Dog wants to get down off the bed.
We follow Dog, trotting out of the bedroom and standing in front of her food and treats.
"No. No more."
She goes and drinks a little water.
I ask if she needs to "go potty outside."
Dog wags tale.
Open the door and she takes a step out, comes back in. Rain.
I play the game and give her a "Good girl treat" in bed. (2 squares this time, broken in half)
"Now no more. Bed time."
Human lies down, grumpier, plugs in phone, attempts to sleep.
Super soft whining.
"No. It is Bed Time. You Sleepy Sleep."
Super soft whining and Dog still wants to get down off the bed.
Human thinks "If she's not well and having tummy pain, I can't tell her that she can't fucking go outside."
We set down and then follow Dog, trotting out of the bedroom and standing in front of her food and treats.
"No. Do you need to Go Potty Outside?"
Dog wags tale.
We go outside, she sniffs around. "Dog. Enough. I'm tired. You Go Potty Outside and then we Sleepy Sleep. I am tired of playing this game."
Dog pees, we go inside. We have a staredown, I and I cross my arms and tell her "No. You are not hungry. No treats."
She states at me. Wags her tale.
"No."
She stares into my eyes and I think of all the destructive, messy ways she could tell me how displeased she is, and I shake my head.
I grab two pieces of food and start breaking them in half on my way back to bed.
Human lies down, grumpier, plugs in phone, attempts to sleep.
Super soft whining and Dog wants to get down off the bed.
"Are. You. Fucking. Kidding. Me."
Eventually, I realized I wasn't going to be sleeping. I don't know what's wrong with Dog and why she's being all weird and needy and won't calm the eff down and sleep.
I grabbed her favorite dog bed off the top of the queen size bed next to me, and I grabbed my phone and phone charger and bottle of water, and we went to sit on the couch, (or the floor next to the couch).
I gave up on sleep, and Dog climbed into bed and started snoring, while I started contemplating life and why the fuck I'm not happy.
And that's when I realized I'm in a rut. What exactly have I done since I kicked my cancers ass?
How can I sum up what's happened in my life since I stopped blogging in 2012?
I actually graduated from a four year program this summer. I'm not done learning or officially licensed and ready to take over the world yet, but I'm taking those steps. I've got a list of CEU's and more training and State Tests ahead of me, but I'm taking steps towards a solid career and being able to help people with my grownup job. I'm kinda proud of that.
I've read. I've read and audiobooked a lot. And I've tried to think about the stuff that I've read.
I try to be better that I was yesterday. The only person I'm competing with and the only person I have to make happy and the only person who can make changes in my life and manifest my dreams and actually bring these thoughts into life is me.
At some point you have to stop thinking about it and talking about it, and DO, or you'll never be able to touch your dreams.
I saw a stupid inspirational quote on Twitter.
"But first, you must be the person you want to spend the rest of your life with."
And if I were to see myself and read a little one paragraph blurb about me on a dating app, I don't think I'd swipe the "hell yes" direction.
Which means I've got some shit to do.
This Human is officially Under Construction.
xo, Kay
It's only when I am stuck in a rut and needing to make some changes.
My grandfather was diagnosed with cancer. We're still going through the processes of getting scans and blood work so the oncologist can rate him, and then figure out a course of treatment. This is Gramps' second go-round with cancer, he had his bladder removed four years ago. No chemo or radiation. But this time it's more serious stuff. The cancer is choking his esophagus and he's on a liquid and pureed food only diet, per his surgeon.
And I thought I was ok. My cancer was successfully cured ten years ago.
I'm only "being there" for my Grandparents. This isn't my fight. I'm going to appointments, taking noted and translating way-too-fast-for-a-mindblowingly-serious-subject doctor-speak into normal people and a profoundly hard of hearing grandfather's language, because I understand the lingo and the acronyms and know what's coming next so I know what questions to ask.
I went into it blind; a scared ass, super sheltered 22 year old, away from home in the military, with a rotating assortment of also-military friends and coworkers taking me to appointments and chemo.
While also coming down with Fibromyalgia (However the medical community defines it this week, it's sort of overactive nerves that just transmit PAIN PAIN PAIN, except it's more than that), and having a body that was letting me down more and more, so I needed a cane to support myself walking and I was in so much pain I was on morphine, Vicodin and muscle relaxers. My 2-3 times a day gym-and-workout-habit body was failing me, at 21 and then 22 years old and no one knew why and they ran so many tests and found nothing.
And then they accused me of being lazy and faking it when they couldn't find anything physically wrong with me, and I was so scared I'd end up in a wheelchair and SHIT WAS SCARY
ANDI LIVED ALONE, FAR AWAY FROM HOME.
And then they found cancer and I was so relieved.
So anything I can do to shed a little light into that scary dark cave, I'm there.
Cancer, for the patient, can be pretty simple.
You take it one appointment at a time. You try to focus on the good days, on what you get to do and who you get to see on the days you don't need to go to the hospital. Life gets pretty simple, you just try to enjoy all of the little things, and you take the big stuff one appointment at a time.
You really have no reason to be afraid until you get your scans done and analysed. And they get your blood work back, and they take the surgeon's assessment or the biopsy results into consideration, and they make a game plan.
People who have gone to school for years and years make up a game plan for how to kick your cancer's ass, based on the science that has worked best for other people who have kicked this cancer's ass. You can trust your medical team, because they know this shit. You are at the mechanic who specializes in this one thing, and you can take their game plan and look it up for yourself because we live in the information age!
And then you either go with the game plan, or you make a new one.
Either way, it's one appointment at a time. And they monitor your blood work or the do more scans to make sure the game plan is working. They adjust if the plan if they need to, and you keep on kicking that cancer's ass.
It's easy.
But LIFE.
Oh dude.
In Life it's so much harder to find the experts to consult with.
Every person on the internet thinks they're an expert.
Look at this chick right here^ telling you cancer is easy. What kind of idiot says that?
So tonight Dog refused to go to bed.
For at least an hour, we played the game.
"Go potty outside."
Come back inside and get a "Good girl treat" in bed. (Literally three squares of her food).
Human lies down to attempt sleep.
Super soft whining and Dog wants to get down off the bed.
We follow Dog, trotting out of the bedroom and standing in front of her food and treats.
"No. No more."
She goes and drinks a little water.
I ask if she needs to "go potty outside."
Dog wags tale.
Open the door and she takes a step out, comes back in. Rain.
I play the game and give her a "Good girl treat" in bed. (2 squares this time, broken in half)
"Now no more. Bed time."
Human lies down, grumpier, plugs in phone, attempts to sleep.
Super soft whining.
"No. It is Bed Time. You Sleepy Sleep."
Super soft whining and Dog still wants to get down off the bed.
Human thinks "If she's not well and having tummy pain, I can't tell her that she can't fucking go outside."
We set down and then follow Dog, trotting out of the bedroom and standing in front of her food and treats.
"No. Do you need to Go Potty Outside?"
Dog wags tale.
We go outside, she sniffs around. "Dog. Enough. I'm tired. You Go Potty Outside and then we Sleepy Sleep. I am tired of playing this game."
Dog pees, we go inside. We have a staredown, I and I cross my arms and tell her "No. You are not hungry. No treats."
She states at me. Wags her tale.
"No."
She stares into my eyes and I think of all the destructive, messy ways she could tell me how displeased she is, and I shake my head.
I grab two pieces of food and start breaking them in half on my way back to bed.
Human lies down, grumpier, plugs in phone, attempts to sleep.
Super soft whining and Dog wants to get down off the bed.
"Are. You. Fucking. Kidding. Me."
Eventually, I realized I wasn't going to be sleeping. I don't know what's wrong with Dog and why she's being all weird and needy and won't calm the eff down and sleep.
I grabbed her favorite dog bed off the top of the queen size bed next to me, and I grabbed my phone and phone charger and bottle of water, and we went to sit on the couch, (or the floor next to the couch).
I gave up on sleep, and Dog climbed into bed and started snoring, while I started contemplating life and why the fuck I'm not happy.
And that's when I realized I'm in a rut. What exactly have I done since I kicked my cancers ass?
How can I sum up what's happened in my life since I stopped blogging in 2012?
I actually graduated from a four year program this summer. I'm not done learning or officially licensed and ready to take over the world yet, but I'm taking those steps. I've got a list of CEU's and more training and State Tests ahead of me, but I'm taking steps towards a solid career and being able to help people with my grownup job. I'm kinda proud of that.
I've read. I've read and audiobooked a lot. And I've tried to think about the stuff that I've read.
I try to be better that I was yesterday. The only person I'm competing with and the only person I have to make happy and the only person who can make changes in my life and manifest my dreams and actually bring these thoughts into life is me.
At some point you have to stop thinking about it and talking about it, and DO, or you'll never be able to touch your dreams.
I saw a stupid inspirational quote on Twitter.
"But first, you must be the person you want to spend the rest of your life with."
And if I were to see myself and read a little one paragraph blurb about me on a dating app, I don't think I'd swipe the "hell yes" direction.
Which means I've got some shit to do.
This Human is officially Under Construction.
xo, Kay
