Dexter and I got two parakeets

When the kids were young, we had a little Flockette of birds, which flew around freely inside. One lovebird just loved perching on Macci's glasses.  One got shut in a kitchen drawer for a while. Fortunately we heard her and got her out. Every once in a while I run across and chewed book cover and have a warm feeling.
We visited a bird breeder in Florida who happened to be great uncle Chuck and aunt Janet's gardener.  I think Elizabeth was her name and she and her boyfriend raised birds and bonsai's. The only problem with their business was that they were not willing to sell the birds. We were very fortunate that she trusted us and shipped a very rare bird, I think it was a Sun Conure, to Blake.
One of the most tragic incidences in my life was the day Grey died.  Grey was a wonderful cockatiel. Blake reached me on the phone as I was boarding a plane home from burying great aunt Janet. I had been fortunate enough to be able to say goodbye to her at the hospital and spend several days holding Chuck's hand, making it through the cremation and service and sobbing.
When Blake told me that Grey was dead, I didn't know who he was talking about. But once I grasped the situation and the depth of his pain, I had to tell someone. So a very wonderful stewardess heard my tale of woe and brought me boxes of Kleenex.
Eventually we merged our little flock with the Reynolds' birds, at their house. The birds must've most enjoyed showering with the girls.
Truth be told, Andy was not nearly as enamored with the birds as the kids and I were. Their poop bothered him more than us. And he didn't really like their talking all the time.  So he was never very receptive to my suggestion that we start a new flock, just one bird, please.
But now that he is moving to South Carolina, he won't be bothered.
First, before buying anything, I checked with the  Reynolds to see if they had any unwanted adoptees.  Birds live a long time. Parrots can live up to 125 years and parakeets up to 20 years. So I thought maybe we could get one of our beloved's back, to no avail. The bird vet in Littleton listed no bird in need of a new home.
So Dexter and I went to the Petco where we know the employees are experts and animal lovers.
We chose the two parakeets that acted least afraid as Dexter did everything in his power to scratch through that glass tower.  I named the pure white one Cloud, after my grandfather, and the bright yellow green one Sunshine, which my beloved great aunt Janet used to call me. 

The next morning I took off the cover and I said, "good morning Sunshine," and a memory popped into my mind. My mother used to wake me up I saying, "Good morning Sunshine" in her cheeriest voice ever.  Of course it drove me wild every time she did it, but yesterday I felt connected to her once again, with love and tears.
So I changed Cloud's name to Mooncloud because I want to be able to also say, "Good Night Moon."

I Relived

Definition is complicated, mostly I lived through another operation.
Mom would've definitely defended that word. In Scrabble she once used re-fart, saying if you could do it once, you could redo it. She, who always claimed she never farted, no really. She had very specific rules about any game she played, suited to her need at any moment. I never played Scrabble with her. Not only was she a little too competitive for my delicate little self, but she was brilliant at making multiple words, in many directions, with the insertion of one Tile.  And those damned 2 letter words. Dad and Mom played Scrabble often. Becky played against Mom often. But it wasn't really that I was too delicate a soul, it was that I was far too competitive and combative to deal with her foibles.
Actually one of the proudest days of my Scrabble life came after Mom died. For my 60th birthday Dad took me to Churchill, Manitoba to see the polar bears. One cocktail hour, we played a game of Scrabble on the table between our beds, while watching an Eskimo ceremony in the cold courtyard. I beat him. He didn't mind a bit and we discussed no rules and made no challenges. Turns out, Scrabble is a fun game.
Reminds me of the time I beat my first father-in-law in chess. That did not go nearly as well.
BTW, this surgery was much less demanding the double mastectomy. I had been cruising along pretty well, until I looked at the site in the mirror. The pain tripled instantly. Lucky I had another pain pill available.

I tried to pull rank

But it didn't work. Darn it.
My boob seems a lot less red this morning, so I was hoping that the surgery could be called off. I begged the same plastic surgeons, again. I've had the oncologist on speed dial, with no answer yet. Then, the big kahuna walked in to see my roommate who was in the shower. I suspected it was he, lept into attack position, as best I could in bed, asked him directly, "Are you Jay?" Very charmingly, he reached over my toes and knees, to shake my hand and acknowledged he is. I told him that Ginger had advised me to use him and no one else. Now I was paying the penalty and could he please override Dr. Liao.
"No."

Today was one of the best days of my life

It's just not ending all that well. I spent the day with Demi and Paula, two of my dearest friends from Wells.  Huge bonus was seeing Paula's son Jon and his son Daniel. A cracked windshield lead to Jon volunteering to chaufeur his mom to our date. It felt so wonderful to hold a baby again. I brought a croissant doughnut from Dunkin' Donuts, betting cash money, that neither paula nor Demi would know what it was. I was correct, but of course, Jon knew and blurted out Cronut.
I complained about it costing $2.50 and he told us that in Brooklyn the original Cronut costs over $8 apiece, and there are lines of people around the block waiting to buy them.
We toured West Concord where Demi and Rob are planning to move temporarily. What an up-and-coming, hip community. Great lunch overlooking river, followed by tour of artful stone masonry and custom boat and tiny house builders (I have a Pinterest section called tiny houses, but I think our experiment in that department has pretty much failed. My goal was to have the slate clean and empty space. But we are failures. We apparently need a junk room to throw all the crap when somebody comes over.)
Went back to Demi's and played beggars whist for a few hours with lots of conversation and laughs. Twas rush-hour by the time I left so I drove through my old town of Weston and dropped in on Sue, whom I had not seen a number of years. We were both thrilled by our reunion, once she realized who that tall bald guy in her garden was.  Then I drove by Alric and his wife, another Sue jogging with their puggles, but had no chance to stop and say hi to another set of neglected beloveds. Toured the outside of the new elementary school. Then I skulked into the old folks home (I didn't want the evil manager to see me) to visit Frank, whom I wasn't completely convinced remembered who I am.
Picked up our favorite Chinese, called Andy to tell him I was still alive and was bringing dinner home, all good news as far as he was concerned.
Then I asked him if my right breast looked red and swollen. we debated that and photographed it and talked to the plastic surgeon on call, emailed the photos  and finally made it into Mass General emergency room. Bottom line, I'm having the right breast implant removed at the crack of dawn. That means more drains, no cat, probably a delay in my chemo. I'm second-guessing myself slightly, as I was in the same emergency room for pain in my chest on Monday night. Then I missed my Wednesday appointment with my GP. Maybe he could've caught it earlier and killed the infection.
Delaying the chemo may actually work out for the better in terms of my 50th high school reunion! It's booked for May 14-17. Fingers crossed.
Otherwise a perfect day, one of the highlights of my life.

Maureen's other breast is fine.

Thank god! I am thrilled for her.
I did happen to meet another recipient of one of Vinny's famous nipples, which Stacy calls her Titty-Tat.
Stacy Frey is a newscaster and morning show host on the local Fox station in Cleveland Ohio. She's an amazing friend of Bobbi's beloved in-laws, whose wonderful 20-year-old son died. We met in Columbus, Ohio at the funeral.
Stacey noticed a wrinkle in her breast and immediately went to her first mammogram in her early 40s. It was a lump that required a lumpectomy, but she chose to have a mastectomy and remove the whole breast. Of course she wanted to share her story on air and documented her journey. Not sure how she found Vinny in Baltimore when she's based in Cleveland, but so she did. Her nipple is as exquisite as is Maureen's. Vinny did a little touch up on her other nipple which had gotten a little stretched out of shape when she added a little volume to that breast.
Did I mention that Vinny is the artist who did Maureen's originally? He is a true tattoo artist and was getting a little tired of doing only nipples and announced his retirement. Not half an hour later his sister called to say that she had just been diagnosed with breast cancer. Cancel that retirement letter. Nipple art seems to be my destiny. He travels around the world to do his magic on women everywhere.
Maureen had her reconstruction during the mastectomy. It required a tummy-tuck, removing the fat that would be used in the breast. Stacy had her breast removed and had sacks inserted at that time, one in each breast. Those sacks required filling and gradual stretching of the skin, quite a painful process. Stacey had no chemo nor radiation.
Erica was my visiting nurse, who came to see me at least eight times post surgery, was a great comfort. She took my vital signs every time and commented on how well everything was healing. She agreed with me that it sounded like I had the best of all possible reconstructions available. No skin stretching. Tell me talk.  No multiple procedures.
As happy as I was originally with the reconstructed breasts, I am no longer as thrilled. I might've made a mistake at the plastic surgeons after he told me I didn't ever need to wear a bra again, of throwing away the support contraption issued by him. My boobs were certainly tired out within two days. Those muscles weren't  ready to support all that weight. And Stacy taught me something horrible I can do with my muscles holding up my boobs.
Back in Cleveland playing baggers whist with just us girls, Judy and Jane, we had lots of giggles over my dancing breasts. I bolted town before the final packing of  the moving van and came home to rest up for my next round of chemo.
I was feeling quite anxious about it really because of the nausea factor and it being the more intense AC treatment. But my nurse George said that his goal was to have me feel no nausea. And I have not, neither at the onset of the injections nor the following 48 hours.
Becky came to town yesterday, my birthday, and drove me immediately to MGH for neo-something injection.  I was supposed to be able to do it at home, but that would've cost me $4000, where as going to the hospital was covered by my insurance. We took the time to find the healing Garden which is just absolutely beautiful and can be used both in the winter and in the summer at MGH. We did get home a little later than planned and George and Katie and her sister Michelle had already arrived for 3 o'clock lunch. I don't think we ate until after five. Beckett prepare and the most magnificent and beautiful meal 98% of which George could eat. Who would've ever dreamt that beans and onions would look so beautiful in a nest of kale. And the pixie nectarines were  to die for and the pickled onions were heavenly.
The kids brought me a wonderful plant with it's own Little Blossom already poking out. Becky brought a treasure trove of goodies including a six pack of toilet paper, which my friend Andrea will be thrilled to hear about.
After the kids left and Andy dozed off Becky and I played gin rummy for an hour or so, the end of a perfect day for me.
Though I'm missed a few birthday calls, I did talk to a number of people yesterday.