Another side of randomness

 Last week was just nuts. In addition to the gas line at the high school being struck which caused school to be cancelled for Thing Three, I also had a two hour fog delay. We repeated the process on Tuesday, and though the gas line had been repaired, school was still cancelled for him as well as for me this time because the fog was still hanging around come bus time after the two hour delay. I think Wednesday everyone was on time, but I was subbing in first grade instead of hanging with my preK friends. Thursday I was back with my 3 year olds and then Friday was a work day and aides weren't required to report, and Thing Three also didn't have school because his teachers had a work day as well. 

My Mommeee arrived Monday afternoon and left Saturday morning, so we had a great, long visit this time. Thanks for making the trip! I miss you! Dada had been in Mexico for work since Sunday, and he made it back safely to us on Saturday after my Mom arrived home.  

This week will hopefully be a little less bananas, though I'm back in first grade on Wednesday again, and Thing Three has no school for conferences on Friday. Our school has them next week. I can't believe it's the end of the first quarter already...

My hindsight-is-always-20/20 observation is to not schedule surgery wherein your recovery requires no lifting within the same year as having lymph nodes removed in your arm. Hopefully none of you will ever go through the experience, but if you do, be forewarned that the second surgery and no lifting will set back your PT and stretching exercises rather alarmingly. I've been experiencing a ton of tightness throughout the right side of my chest, right armpit, shoulder, and neck. Over two weeks ago it was so bad that I whimpered when bending over to tie my shoes; the combination of extending my arm while having it tightly in front of me pulled all kinds of muscles in what felt like all the wrong places. At times, while stretching, I sounded snappy like a KitKat bar. As anyone with cording can tell you, the snap kind of takes your breath away a second and you're wincing the whole time you're working, either because it actually does hurt sometimes but also in anticipation of it zinging another stab of pain. For instance, I do 10 reps of various exercises, and sometimes the snap won't come until the 9th rep! Then you hesitate in dread a moment before starting the 10th, and breathe deeply when that set is done. I'm not particularly a fan of sounding crispy. Dada, however, is enjoying working on me with the massage gun we got; meanwhile, my vision when he's doing it makes me feel like the Blair Witch Project choppiness and it reminds me of how we'd vocalize as kids riding our bikes on our brick street, "heeeeyyyaaaaheeeeeyaheeeeya"... oh well. This, too, shall pass. I certainly won't win any Heisman trophies anytime soon!

School has been entertaining. For the most part, the kids are a hoot and I love the staff. I am tired of the squabbling over who is the line leader, but generally I am having a ball. I'm thrilled to be able to help. I missed so much time last year. 

Our weather has finally cooled off, I'm super behind on #Inktober, I have plenty of small projects to keep me busy when I'm home, and I'm glad for the time we had with my Mommeeeee. Too bad she didn't take Bos with her when she left. (I can hear you laughing, Mom. Pipe down.)

Did I blog that we had to put Honey down? I don't think I did. Our Honey girl was elderly and way past decrepit, so we made that worst best decision and our wonderful vet helped us send her off pain-free. Bos never even noticed. He still scurried to her dish for days afterwards to see if she'd left him any morsels and then he'd look at us like, "how rude." I think the only reason he'd miss any of us is because he doesn't have opposable thumbs.

One more football game and then the marching band season winds down. They've already had their concert and we learned the hard way to sit in the center of the auditorium versus towards the back. Having a line of trumpets three rows behind you is not recommended. Had it been drums, I'd have been great! I love to feel the beat in my sternum!

Have a wonderful week, everybody, and stay healthy!

For those keeping score

Last week I had some milestones that I'd like to share. I hit Day 100 of Nerlynx, the med I'm taking for 365 days that is supposed to decrease the chance of cancer recurrence. My body is acclimating well (though those first 50+ days had me very glad for my BFF Imodium) and I haven't needed any Imodium at all for about 2 weeks now. I've weaned down from 2-3 daily to one a day to now none! Woohoo!

Secondly, I got my port out! I'm no longer bionic. I'd been a bit nervous about getting it out as my surgeon said it's just done in an office visit. I quipped to a friend, "what is it, like a "here, bite this. *snip* *slurp* *slap a bandaid on and boot me out the door* kind of thing?" She laughed and said, "this isn't the Wild West!"

Except, it kind of was!

When I got to the appointment, my surgeon came in and made a funny face when I asked how things were going. "I've been here five months and had hoped to have things a little more to my liking... At my former practice (where I'd been seeing him) I had everything I needed and just the way I wanted it. I wasn't aware we were doing this today. We can still do it, but they don't have these rooms equipped the way the last place was, so someone from the OR is coming with everything we'll need and we can just kind of MacGyver it."

I was fervently grateful my sweet husband wasn't in the room. Not that he couldn't have handled it, but I'm glad I didn't have to talk him down and convince him that I'd be okay. Haha! "Okay, let's go for it!"

Sure enough, a gal from the OR came in with a metal box. They unfolded one of those blue, thick paper towel-ish papers and draped me with it. He cut a out a space to work and swapped disinfectant all over me. It took more numbing stuff than he expected to get me where I couldn't feel the needle poking me, but then it was smooth sailing where he sliced an incision, pulled out the port (which was way longer than I thought, and didn't look at all like it had been inside me for 15 months), and stitched me shut again. I confessed to the young woman that I had grilled him while under general anesthesia when he was placing the port. He added, "there were a lot of questions." Too bad I don't remember even seeing him in the room, but oh well. He also shared with her that he'd had an attending who taught that if you (a surgeon) take good care with your stitching that you shouldn't need steri-strips or tape or whatever, and that he internalized that. I do have beautiful, clean incisions and scars from his work, I'll grant him that.

So all in all, I chatted them up (naturally) throughout the procedure, giggled when he cut a bandage down from "massive" and walked out to the waiting room where my Mommee was waiting for me. I'm glad I'd made the conscious choice to not obsess over how bad the procedure was going to be, and I'm glad that I got to help keep his surgical skills sharp by his having the opportunity to improvise. Ha! He will check in with me in the spring but foresees no issues.

I had a follow up appointment with my oncologist the following week. She said my white blood cells, hemoglobin, platelets, and tumor markers were all "perfect" and that I was doing "fantastic" and that I was the icing on her morning. She plans to see me back just before Thanksgiving but is thrilled that I'm doing so well and also expects no problems. My PET scan results were clear and she felt nothing out of the ordinary during my physical exam. 

Long story short, thanks for over a year of prayers and support and cards and love, you guys. Thank you for being part of my medical adventure. A friend was asking me if I'd learned anything throughout this experience and I told her that I felt like I'd learned how loved I am. That must sound incredibly weird; that I figured out I'm loved by getting cancer? Yes. I've had people come out of the woodwork to bring meals, take me to appointments, mail cards and packages, send flowers, and pray for me. Some of them I'll never even get a chance to meet. Some I don't even know about! That's what's crazy- that when you pray for someone you can help alter their circumstances for the better and they may never even know you were a part of it. What a fabulous thing! So thank you, all of you, so very much from me and mine. We are grateful for your interventions and for God's faithfulness.

You know what else? You are every bit as loved as I am!

The Jonah talk

Since I'm behind, might as well go way back. June 6 I told Dada we were going to go on a date and that he should leave that blocked into his schedule so he wouldn't be tempted to stay late at work. He said, "yay, a date!"

I told him very little else and we drove to a local church. We received a program for the evening and there were a few faces he recognized as I was getting hugs.

It was a cancer survivors' dinner, our very first one, and we had a great time getting to know the other couples at our table, having our picture taken, and a delightful dinner. 

Some of my friends spilled the beans and revealed my secret: I was one of the guest speakers for the evening. Some of you may have seen a picture of me on Facebook with my mouth open, haha! Dada was pretty impressed that I'd kept it secret even from him. He likes surprises. I do not.

I'd thought and prayed a lot about what I wanted to say. I didn't want the message to be focused on me. I truly wanted every person there to hear whatever God wanted them to hear and not have it be about me. What follows is roughly what I told everyone that night:

Mike called me in March to tell me about this dinner and to ask if I would consider speaking in front of 150-200 people. My very first thought was, "yikes!" My next thought was, "wait a minute. You've gone through chemo, surgery, radiation, new meds, and you're afraid of a little public speaking?" My third thought was, "yes!" I asked him what people generally talked about as I've never been to one of these before. He answered, "survivorship." I asked how long I had to think about it and he said he'd need to know by the end of March. I thought it over for a week and called him back when I least expected him to be in the office so I could tell his voice mail that, yes, I'll give it a try.

Then I told nobody.

Eventually, as I mused about survivors, the story of Jonah came to mind. Most of you are familiar with the tale. Jonah receives an assignment from God but he has no intention of going to Nineveh. He boards a ship and heads as fast and as far as he can in the opposite direction. God seems to say, "okay, we're going to learn this one the hard way, are we?" He sends a storm. The sailors do everything in their power to save the situation but fail. Jonah ends up thrown overboard and, instead of drowning, is then swallowed by a big fish. For three days and nights he is inside the fish before being spat out, and then he wisely decides to fulfill his mission. He delivers his message, the city repents, and instead of being pleased, Jonah is angry and bitter and complains about the Lord being merciful.

I thought about how many parallels there are between Jonah's story and my cancer journey. When first diagnosed, it's a natural reaction to want to deny it or to not want to deal with it at all and pretend everything is fine. Generally, though, major health issues don't resolve themselves on their own, so men, yes, I'm talking especially to you, get yourselves checked out if you are having issues. Eventually you have to get the experts involved. In Jonah's case, they were the sailors. They knew their rigging, the weather, those waters. In our case, it's our medical team. They're up to date on the procedures, the meds, the techniques, everything they need to help heal us. However, like the sailors, they are only human beings and some things are out of their hands. Perhaps it is unfair to expect perfection, though they do very good work. 

Jonah ended up in the sea and then in the dark in the fish. Here's the storms of uncertainty, the unknown, the millions of questions swirling around. "Will I be able to handle chemo? What will the new normal look like? How will everything look after I go through this? Will I even make it through this? What if I don't?" It's terrible to be in the dark of the storm, but God in his mercy doesn't leave Jonah there and he also doesn't leave us there. 

We come out of the storm and continue our path. In our case, it's our rounds of treatment. We go to the doctors, we listen to our team, we take our meds, we have the surgery, we do the thing. 

Jonah delivered his message and pouted and sulked and was bitter about the results. I think a lot of people would be happy to give us as patients a pass from doing too much. "No, you need to rest." "You're still healing." "Take it easy, don't overdo it." I think we forget that helping others also makes us feel better. I hope that your journey doesn't bring bitterness and self pity about "why did this happen to me?" I may be preaching to the choir as you're here tonight to celebrate your survivorship, but I would encourage all of you to find someone or something to contribute to, that you're passionate about, and help others. 

Thanks for coming tonight!

...
I won't pretend I wasn't nervous, but I really was excited to see what God did. Even now, a month after the event, it still thrills me that He used me. I'm so glad I said yes to the opportunity. The audience was so warm and welcoming and it makes me tear up even now to remember the sweet little old ladies nodding encouragingly to me while I was onstage. The hugs afterwards from my radiation team and my doctor were especially savored. 

My Mommee mentioned that I'll have no idea who my talk might have helped, and to think that someone in that room who perhaps was there as someone's support system might down the road be diagnosed themselves and they might remember my message of hope when that never even dawned on me really hit home. I hope so much that people realize how much they matter and how much they are loved!

A gory details post

One might infer from the title that there will be material shown here which could make some readers uncomfortable. There's no shame in skipping this post. Read at your own risk. 

That said, I'll try to be sensitive as well. 

Here's me, pre-op, in my magic gown. You guys, this gown was so cool! When I was putting it on, I couldn't remember if the nurse had said to have it open in the front or in the back, so I of course assumed, "well, boob surgery would mean they're working on my front so it has to open in the front, right?" and that's how I put it on. Wrong! Haha! The nurse giggled at me and said, "everyone thinks that, but it actually is to open in the back" because there are all these cool layers to the gown including pockets that they can run tubes through which can warm or cool the patient accordingly. Magic! Whoever thought that up is brilliant. We fixed my gown and got me ready to go.

My OR people came in and introduced themselves. They asked me if I wanted a surgical cap of some kind and I asked if it was warm in the OR. One of the anesthesiologists said, "it's freezing in there" so I got a snazzy blue shower cap. He then gave me my calming, pre-op "margarita" mix, Dada kissed me good luck and they wheeled me into the OR. I remember looking up at the light bulbs that look like ice cubes in the huge light fixtures. I met a nurse who said his name was Mike, I remember the team saying something wasn't working right and that they needed another one... blood pressure machine, perhaps? And then I don't remember anything after that. Once again, I have no recollection of my surgeon or the head anesthesiologist being even in the room. I did not get a catheter, (big hooray!) or the breathing tube that heads clear down into your lungs (another big hooray!) I had what I think is called an LMA which is a tube that just lays at the top, back of your throat in case they need it for anything later. Less invasive and a not-as-sore throat later on. I only felt the soreness of it pretty much that same day and the next day.  

I think Dada said they started on me in the OR at 8:47 and I was wheeled into Recovery at about 10:40. I woke up and stared fuzzily at the large clock in Recovery at about 11:10 when violent shivers started. I told my nurse I wasn't cold but I was certainly quaking and she said the anesthesia does that. It didn't last too long and I got an extra toasty blankie out of the deal, haha! Since I didn't have to wait for a chest X-ray this time, I had some ice chips immediately and got to chat with my nurses as the underwater, operating on a slower record speed feeling when I turned my head faded. My surgeon came into check on me and asked if I'd decided if I wanted to stay overnight or not yet. I hadn't decided. Some of you are floored at what I've read online as a "drive by mastectomy", and believe me, I took that decision seriously, too. My surgeon and some of my nurses were strongly of the opinion that I'd sleep better and less interrupted at home and would therefore heal better. I suppose they also factor in the amount of germs in hospitals. It felt like it took me forever to decide and it wasn't because I was in any pain. I felt some hotness/burning sensation in the general surgery area but no actual pain. My surgeon had commented that people tell him mastectomy surgery hurts less than even laparoscopic procedures and I have to admit I didn't really believe him. However since this is Saturday and the surgery was Monday and I took absolutely nothing for pain yesterday at all, I guess he knew what he was talking about!

Once you're done in Recovery they send you to the next room to keep an eye on you. Dada was invited back to see me and I had one of the same nurses I'd had after my port surgery this spring, so that was really neat. She brought me more water and some Rice Krispie Treats, and kept a good eye on me. I did eventually decide I could go home the same day so she prepped my discharge papers and my folder of info I'd need to change dressings, how to take care of my drains which prevent fluid building up at the surgical sites (I have one on each side), signs to watch out for, etc. 

And the magic continued. They set me up with a scopolamine patch (thank goodness for Auto Correct finding that for me) which they stick to the skin behind your ear. It administers anti-nausea meds over a period of three days so you don't have any ill effects from the anesthesia. I was warned to not scratch it or touch it and then rub my eyes as it would dilate my pupils and then people would look at you funny, assume a head injury and order a CT scan. "Make sure you wash your hands. We've all done it" cracked my nurse with a roll of her eyes. The boys, of course, loved the idea of the patch with the magic medicine, and I did remember to wash my hands anytime I forgot it was there and scratched whatever itch was close to it. No dilated pupils or CT scans for me.

So I'm a stomach and side sleeper and obviously that isn't going to happen for awhile. Dada and Myron had disassembled our big red recliner and moved it upstairs so I would have a "nest". I've got multiple blankets, a side table for books/drinks/tissues/snacks/phone charger/desk lamp/etc so I'm pretty set for just about anything. Dada even dug out his travel pillow which has helped immensely and I'm about 15-20 paces from our bathroom. I finally learned my lesson last night and quit drinking about two hours before bed so I didn't need to be in there every two and a half hours, haha! Safe to say I've been well hydrated. Plus I have two pillows because I read I'm supposed to be propping my arms up. Lots to remember! I'm sure I'm not getting all of it right, but I seem to be doing really well, so I'm not stressing over it. 

And why these pictures decided to line up in the middle instead of along the left like all the other ones is beyond me, so sorry for those of you with OCD. My apologies.  

Ladies online mentioned a nail apron which costs about $1.50 as an excellent way to make sure you don't yank on your drains. The compression lines you see on my torso are because we've been using an ACE bandage over top of everything so stuff isn't coming loose, tickling too much, getting tugged on, and so forth. It reminds me of the big velcro wrap I was given after I had Damon. I told friends it feels good to put it on, and it feels good to take it off. The lump you see on my right side above the bandages is my port. It was being a butt and not letting the pre-op nurses draw blood from it, which is part of its job but it happens sometimes, so I do have a small bruise on the inside of my left elbow where a very apologetic nurse had to stick me. She was fast and efficient and a small needle stick was not truly one of my worries Monday morning, haha!

Some of you are Star Trek fans, whether you admit it or not, and if you remember the episode where Captain Picard is shown having been assimilated into Locutus of Borg, this next quote will make you laugh. Between my drains and my newly done landscaping I am Noboobus of Borg!

I have been having way more fun with this than anyone else, most likely because people are trying to be sensitive and don't want to be seen as crude, but also because the sooner I embrace my new reality the better I'll adapt. I'd made jokes all last week about my surgery approaching. Monday was my last Monday with boobs. Tuesday was my last day with tatas. Wednesday was my last hump day with humps. Thursday was harder, so I declared it my last happy hour with hooters. Friday was my last flash 'em Friday. Then I thought of Noboobus of Borg and cracked myself up. 

Humor is excellent medicine!

Then a sweet nurse friend advised to be sure I check my back during dressing changes because fluid can build up there as well and patients often don't realize it should be checked, too. Never would have dawned on me. As you can see, my back is in the clear. These were all taken Tuesday!

I have been absolutely floored at how normal I've felt. Everyone has cautioned to not let the pain get ahead of me. I'm thinking I must be doing something wrong because I don't have any! Granted I haven't walked into anything or been hit with anything or fallen onto anything this week, and I think I'm supposed to wait until the drains come out to start with the recommended arm exercises, but I've been slowing reaching farther and lifting light things and am doing really well. Showering with the drains is a bit trickier but there are lots of tips about that online, too. 

I have my follow up appointment all set for next week and I'm really looking forward to having the drains removed. They don't hurt at all, but they are encumbering, and I think psychologically it'll be a big milestone to have them gone. I am not looking forward to the intense itching I hear I will experience as everything heals, but even that is a sign of progress, so I'll take it. Again, I reserve the right to change my mind once it starts happening, haha. I am looking forward to experimenting with my wardrobe and at this point I'm not even talking about what will look good now that I'm flat- I simply mean what I'll be capable of pulling on over my head! This week has been all about the button downs, and I don't have or wear a lot of those so I've been raiding Dada's closet.  

Overall, my mental and emotional state has been one of relief and excitement. I did two biopsies and a port surgery. I'm done with chemo. I survived my bilateral mastectomy. The drains are absorbing decreasing amounts of fluid. I'm not in pain. I'm not thinking about radiation yet and don't have pathology results either to mull over yet. My village is overwhelming me with wonderful food, rides for the kids to their activities, prayers going up on high on our behalf, very gentle hugs, a stack of cards, and enough texts to blow up my phone. Thank you to all of you who have been part of this in any way, whether you are local and in hugging range or across the country and are sending support in other ways. Extra special thanks to my Mommee and Aunt Sherri who have been riding herd on the kids so Dada can focus on taking good care of me. I am so blessed. I know some of you might get sick of hearing it, but I'm telling you it is the absolute truth. I am so blessed. 

Lest you be kept in suspense

Hello! This is your PSA to stay on top of your physical exams, especially for those of you who tend to Procrastinate. Just wanted to get that out there.

And now for the good news: I'm out of surgery, out of recovery, out of the room they put you in after recovery, and I'm home!

That's right. I'm home. Lots of the medical staff polled were of the opinion that I'd sleep (and therefore heal) better at home. I was sent home with instructions on how to empty and log the amount of fluid in the drains (oh yes, good times ahead) and the meds which went home with me and all kinds of fun advice. 

Rest easy, sweet friends and family. I'm in good hands with Dada and my Mommee and I'm behaving myself under orders of all my nurse friends. I promise! Thank you thank you thank you for the prayers and all of the support you have showered on drenched us with. YOU guys are amazing! Thanks for "storming the castle" for me. I'm betting God was delighted on my behalf over all the help he could bestow on my medical staff because you enabled it. Thanks for praying powerful prayers and for being my safety in numbers. 

I'll keep this post quick and get back to "the hard part" of resting and recovery, but I promise to do another gory detail post for those of you who'd like one. Thanks again!

And Dada has been excused from his grudging assignment of guest blogger, though I think he did an excellent job. =)

Hip hip hooray halfway!

Yesterday was my third chemo round which officially puts me halfway through this aspect of treatment! Wahoo! Thank you so much for praying over me and supporting my whole fam through this adventure. I firmly maintain that I've still never felt like a file number, not even once. I've been treated with respect, kindness, compassion, professionalism, and humor the whole way. I know a lot of that is a testament to the higher ups who do the hiring of fabulous professionals, but I also know that your prayers of protection and soothing-ness are contributing factors. Please keep it up as they are working. 

To be honest, I'm trying to not look ahead to the impending surgery as that just seems overwhelming at this point. At the very least it will involve a right side mastectomy. I don't have enough information (though I have tons of questions) to make a decision on reconstruction or not and/or if I should leave the left side alone as nothing has shown up there (yet? ever?) or have it removed and be done with it. All those Q&As will come at a surgical consult that I'd rather have sooner than later. I'll keep you posted. ;) I'm also a side and stomach sleeper which makes me anxious as I'm assuming I'll have to sleep upright while recovering. I'm also not looking forward to being put completely under with being tubed and cathed and all that. Yiiiiikes. Like I said, trying to be in the now and not the eeeeeeeek-then. One thing at a time...

For those of you who are the "where are the numbers" types, on May 31 my white blood count as 15.4 and yesterday it was 10.21, so it's down but not alarmingly. My hemoglobin was 11.0 May 31 and yesterday registered 10.4, also down. I asked if I should be eating more red meat or anything but my adorable Doc said, "think of your bone marrow as a factory. You have all the raw materials you need, but the chemo means your machinery is slower. Just keep taking your multivitamin, that's all you need." That was reassuring and a great mental picture for me! I'm assuming PLT means platelets and they were 247 in May and yesterday was 170. He said all were in the realm of normal and to not worry about it. He was pleased that I was doing so well and said that my big smile when he entered the room made his day. Another important number is my favorite; I only needed Immodium three times this past cycle instead of the 7-10 times I used it the first round. Can I get an amen and several hallelujahs!? Again, I know it's your prayers and I won't name names but you know who you are so thank you! 

Blackbutton, you asked about the Neulasta and yes, I was told to take Claritin and Aleve to help with the bone pain. I take a Claritin generic almost daily anyway, and I might have already said that Aleve works great for my dad but my mom can't tolerate it so I brought that up with my doctor and she said, "then stick with Advil since that works with you and don't risk the Aleve"- fine by me. I tried it this last round and managed to head off the old-lady-I-need-one-of-those-self-raising-chairs pain, wahoo! I took Advil the first day and was in pretty good shape, skipped it the second day because I didn't feel like I needed it but then didn't sleep well at all because my darn femurs hurt, so I took it before bed the third day and that was much better. Then I didn't need it anymore.

 My patch for this round is on and should fire early this evening and then I won't be a lightning bug anymore, haha. Dada told me I should sit out on the porch last night, blinking away, and see who I could attract. I thought it would be fun, but something (other than my husband) snuck into bed with me Tuesday night and chomped all over my torso. I didn't want to invite anymore bug bites so I abstained from attracting any more unfriendly visitors to my poor itchy bod! My Doc checked it out and said it's definitely not shingles or poison ivy or an allergic reaction. And it wasn't from weeding the garden because I only got 2 bug bites out there. Something definitely crawled into my pajamas! Stupid bugs... 

Liam had an appointment with his pediatrician and asked what chemo would do to bugs. Dr. Jon had a good chuckle and said, "wouldn't it be great if it had bit you and flew into the neighbor's yard and dropped dead? But think about the awful stuff some of them carry already..."
Liam piped up, "like malaria!"
Dr. Jon continued, "right, and Zika and West Nile and all that. I think chemo probably wouldn't do anything to them since they're capable of hosting all that icky stuff as it is..."
Well phooey! 

My Rita kept me good company yesterday while Mommee watched the Thingz and Bosley Underfoot. Not sure who needs a bigger medal. ;) Again, thanks for the support, the dinners, the cards, flowers, prayers, visits, groceries- you all are amazing, near and far! I have several more posts to do, but we are off to get some summertime bowling in since it is pouring today and then karate tonight. Have a fabulous weekend! 

Two bits

And then there were none. Hairs, that is. Carrie officially has the longest hair in our household, and she can actually get it into a half-inch ponytail. Me? Not so much:

Thanks to Mommee, Lainie, Jessie, and Theresa for the scarves and head wraps. Adding them to my bandanna stash, nobody will ever know the difference since they're so used to seeing me in them already! Hehe!

So far, I still have eyebrows and eyelashes. One of my Docs ruefully told me I may still have to shave my legs. Talk about a lack of justice. Sheesh. ;)  My other Doc said my hair will grow back, and probably curly. Then I will look exactly like my mother! At least now Merida hair for the summer, whoohoo!

"Don't look, Ethel"

Mommee, you and Daddee can both skip this post because... well, let's just leave it at that.

For the rest of you who will appreciate this juvenile highlight of your day, may I introduce the pinnacle of Stick Figure Art. The tooting Stick Person.

                        Yes. You read that right.

And yes, there you have it. A Stick Figure with a bum. Not only does he have a bum, he's passing gas and sighing in relief. Or pleasure, perhaps, judging from the smile on his face. Who can say?

I am so glad that kindergarten students are using speech bubbles as a tool in their writing. Now there is no doubt or ambiguity of any kind when one is examining Art for "what is really happening here?"

I can't believe we have yet another expert Stick Figure Artist in this family. How did we get so blessed?

Tis the season

... for family photos! A big thanks to the folks at CedarCreek who are taking pictures and letting everyone use them this year. Most of you will have already seen this from Facebook, but since some of you my mother is not, here you go, Mommee!