Wednesday, August 31, 2005

I'm sorry, but I have to blog this - scatalogical subject matter alert, surf away now!

today, August 31, at not even 22 months old, my son did a poopy in the potty. Not by accident, either. he's been telling us when he has one in his nappy for a couple of weeks, and sometimes when he's doing one. so today I had the potty out, letting him sit on it fully clothed. he seemed to know what it was for. after his bath, he said "poopy", so I thought right, let's try it. He sat on the potty in various ways - I kept making sure he was aimed right - then tada! - it happened. followed by much praise etc from me and a report to Daddy who came home soon afterwards. I know toilet training is a long road and I have no fantasies of giving up nappies for at least 6-7 months, probably a year. but it's a start, innit?

if you don't have kids, you will find this post mindnumbingly boring and wonder what I'm on about. If you've ever been solely responsible for a nappy-covered bum, you'll rejoice with me.

I think I've finally secured my Wiggles tickets. kind of looking forward to it, though it will be me and several thousand other Mums all trying for the best parking spot. maybe we'll take the pushbike...

visited someone with a new baby today, and managed not to feel too jealous, despite her perfect toddler/good baby combination. waiting, waiting.

dr claims aches and lumps in neck are imaginary. am obliged to believe him, until the next visit. dropped my Zoladex scrip off at the chemist this afternoon, and they phoned to be sure I understood this stuff costs $360 a pop. I know, I said, my dr says I need it and the government says I don't. I'm going with the dr.

oh-oh. child approaching. he believes the Wiggles live inside the PC and wants to get up on my knee and look for them. must go.

Tuesday, August 30, 2005

about to take A. down to childcare so I can work; not planning to work very hard this week, after last week when it all spilled into the next day. will find something to do for next week, though.

I did it; I paid too much for Wiggles tix on eBay. but now I can't get a response from the seller, who is something of an eBay newbie. I haven't put the payment through yet; am sending increasingly annoyed emails to the seller and if I have to, will just cancel the whole thing.

meantime, have my radio oncologist checkup this afternoon. he'll just want to look at my skin, but I want him to check my neck and jawline, where I have had some odd little twinges and imagine I can feel lumps. it really is getting to be difficult, living with the second-to-second threat of sudden death. trying to be normal, always with the knowledge that it could be turned upside down and snatched away in a second.

Friday, August 26, 2005

I don't believe it. Fifteen minutes before the auction ended, just as I was readying my run on the Wiggles tickets, the page froze. not only that item, but every other set of Wiggles tix on eBay have become suddenly unreachable. the rest of the site is working just fine. now, I know it's illegal. I know it's immoral. I know it's excessive - it's just a kids' show. I know that stopping the auctions was the right thing for eBay to do - as they've clearly done - but I WANTED THOSE TICKETS!!! and why just, just as I was about to buy them?

now back to Plan B, if there are any side-view seats left to get...

I've turned on word verification for comments. you now have to read and retype a word to post a comment. I apologise to any sight-impaired people who might be disadvantaged by that, but comment spam is a pet hate of mine. in fact, any spam. just that this is a kind I can do something about.

why am I not posting much? because I'm writing a novel. to a deadline. a three-week deadline. and stalking Wiggles tickets on eBay. and doing one day a week of work, which is more than it sounds. and trying to get enough sleep (while being woken at 5.30am, two seconds after the first birdcall, by my precious darling son). and going to the zoo to see the monkeys. and wondering what to wear to my Big Night Out tonight (childcare fundraiser AND literary magazine launch). and hating next door's barking dog. and baking food for the fundraiser. and hanging out washing. and wondering if dh will ever get his shit together when it comes to booking his holidays so we can go to France. and wondering how to make a monkey-shaped birthday cake, and if it's morally OK to pay 3 times the going rate for said Wiggles tickets. and a few other things besides.

and they homeschool. those are their uniforms apparently. and they'd like more kids. wow. fifteen kids. wow. in another life, maybe. I am so happy with my one, and I know a second would be wonderful. but fifteen? would there be any "I" left to enjoy them?

it's not nice to take amusement at other people's heartfelt revelations. but something about this image makes me go "what!". in one sense I'm a little wistful when I look at their family album - look! another year, another baby!. but the end result is mindboggling.

I think what gets to me is the way they're all dressed the same, from little baby Duggar to the oldest. and the way the girls' hair is all done like their mother's. no doubt about genetic relatedness in that family; it would be like being a twin, only 14-fold. how would you ever separate yourself from your mini-them status?

Wednesday, August 24, 2005

oh, you think you're having a bad day? I have PMT and symptoms of menopause. yes, at the same time. so shut up.

it's all I can do to restrain myself from entering into a bidding war for front-row Wiggles tickets at six times the cover price. the show is four months away, and it's sold out. I could buy seats on the side to another show. but I want my little boy to be able to see his idols. as does every other Mum with a few bucks in the bank, it seems.

more chocolate.

Friday, August 19, 2005

grrl has made me cry. again.

talking to a friend whose baby is having repeated operations on her eyes last night about how we've all got problems at the moment in my mother's group; me, cancer; her, her baby's eyes; someone else, clinical depression; two others, miscarriages. A couple of members have failed to turn up much lately and we suspect they're possibly just not coping.

so I needed this. I needed a tale of love, compassion, understanding and the joy that is a new baby. I needed someone to have a win; and what a win it is for her.

Wednesday, August 17, 2005

last night about an hour after he went to bed, he started to cry. normally if I go in and give him a cuddle, he'll collapse back into the cot and sleep. but last night it wasn't going to be that easy; he was all sweaty and just oozing tears. so I got him up and brought him to the lounge, and he eventually settled, curled up against me with dh on the other side of him. and I talked to dh in a normal voice to let him (A) know everything was fine. eventually his little eyes started to close and I carried all 12 kg of him back to bed. and you know what? I enjoyed it. I loved that he responds so warmly to my presence, that I felt I knew what to do, that I could be there to be his mummy.

if he ever wakes up from this late afternoon nap, we're going to rush over to the zoo to see the monkeys. because I promised, and because for the first time in seven weeks, I don't have to go and get irradiated.

Tuesday, August 16, 2005

A high and narrow peak for relapse occurs at two years, which then comes down again. A second, much-flatter peak for relapse occurs at about five years.

it's been difficult to find information on this. looks like about 2/3 of recurrences are in the first two years or so; extrapolating, that would mean if I got to two years, my risk could be down to 15 percent. still not great, no. and I'm only guessing, really. I'm finding a few articles that talk about survival time after recurrence - two to five years seems common.

ps: the sick rabbit? my friend had to have it put down. poor little bunny.

ah, so I've been on a bit of a blogging hiatus. maybe it's because I'm coming to the end of radiotherapy and am not really sure what to think about it all now, let alone to say. today is my last session. it would damn well want to be, as my "suntan" (massive radiation burn) is now constantly painful, irritating and messy. so I guess I'm tired and rundown from it all, and a bit apprehensive at my supposed resumption of normal life. because I really don't feel like returning to the full-on grind and effort of being a part-time working Mum, fulfilling all my little obligations. it's not like I've stepped back completely during this time - I've been doing one day a week for nearly three months now - but nor am I ready to step up a level. I'm not particularly enjoying, or disliking either, the bit of interviewing etc I have been doing, but I really prefer the column I do, where I get to pick out interesting factoids and make smartass comments about them. and most of all I prefer writing fiction; but despite a few acceptances, there is no money nor real career in that. I've looked into going back to uni to do some more creative writing subjects, even up to a Phd, but I'm still not sure that highly theoreticial, postmodernism-riddled environment is what I need. this morning was my work day, and I essentially spent it sorting out my personal to-do folder. I will have to make up the time later, when I actually have a story idea.

and how will I feel when I'm not seeing doctors every week or day? when all I have between me and a recurrence is a little white pill every morning, a lack of dairy in my diet and a shot once a month? how will I get my head around dropping that treatment in a couple of years for baby #2? will I be brave enough? of course, the clock is already ticking - I assigned July 1 to be my "end of treatment" date. so really, I should be celebrating what? six weeks without a recurrence.


Friday, August 12, 2005

you don't get much of a social life when you have kids; unless you're fabulously wealthy and can employ a fulltime nanny.

so when I decided I'd really like to see this play that's closing at the weekend, it was a stretch to find a sitter. there were still tickets available, but only for Saturday. so I asked dh to ring his sister and see if she'd sit. it took him half a day to make the call, then another half a day for her to make up her mind. the tickets were gone.

since then I've spent an inordinate amount of time trying to get even one ticket to this show. this afternoon I logged on to the ticket site and scored: row b, seat 26, for tonight. so I bought it. at that point there was only one ticket available. then, suddently, the seat next to mine came free. I had five minutes to buy it. rang dh, but he couldn't reach sil. so we gave up.

then stupidly I thought I'd check Saturday again. and now there are two seats available; way back in the theatre but together. but I've already paid for tonight's. and in a way I feel guilty for, I think I'd like the near-front-row seat, even by myself. so we'll spend Saturday night in front of Doctor Who again. ah well. I'm not sure how I feel about getting sil to sit anway; not that I don't trust her, but ever since the birth debacle I've wanted emotional distance from her, and taking favours from her won't help.

Tuesday, August 09, 2005

bummer. my blood test results show that my levels of SSH, LH and estradiol (sp?) are all thoroughly pre-menopausal. so this afternoon I have to go and get a $340 prescription filled and get Zoladex injected into me. that would be chemical castration, in a sense. so while I've tolerated the Tamoxifen fairly well, this might be the real deal coming up, menopause-wise.

meanwhile, I'm not sleeping well due to the horrid radiation burn across my chest and under my arm - you don't want the details - I'm supposed to be working this morning, and I have a sick rabbit in my bathroom that I'm supposed to medicate every two hours with eyedrops. I volunteered for that so my friend wouldn't have to stay home from work to look after it. I need my brain to work, but I don't want to chugalug caffeine; I also need that afternoon nap. yawn.

Thursday, August 04, 2005

re: the lump. it was an enlarged submandibular gland, nothing to worry about. what is a real pain in the neck is that the medication to stop my periods costs about $80 a WEEK. and no, insurance/government safety nets don't cover it unless my cancer is "advanced". which it ain't, but could become so if I couldn't afford the meds. which I can. or at least dh can, though it won't be good for our mortgage. went off for another blood test yesterday and spent an hour in a waiting room for a final check on my hormone levels. the meds will be a monthly shot, or a three-monthly insert under my skin. seems I still have to feel the full fx of menopause.

submandibular, for those of you who know your Latin, means "under the jaw". like, a gland in the neck, only in Latin. ah doctor talk. you've gotta love it.

sitting with A waiting for my radiotherapy this afternoon (my skin is browning up nicely, since you ask, in fact more like cooking), he looked up at me and gave me a kind of mixed smile/stare that plainly said "I love you, you are the most wonderful and important thing in my universe." and all I felt was a wave of guilt and fear at having put that at risk. when will I be allowed to enjoy him and his love, to just be?

Tuesday, August 02, 2005

I was prepared for the drudgery and the exhaustion - but I wasn't prepared for the simple, pure joy of it.

the grrl is finally let in on the secret. aaah.

meanwhile, my dh is ill and restless, leading to a rotten night's sleep for me, followed by a day when I have to WORK. oh, and see my oncologist for a prescription to stop my periods, and to ask him about this funny little lump I think I can feel in my neck. which is probably nothing. probably.

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