The year of me is over and the year of Cedric has begun. That's right Cedric my new grandson, complements of Blake and Anna. His full name is Cedric Winks Mensing. Winks is Anna's grandmother's maiden name.
I figure Cedric will have to rule the world. And his grandmother feels sorry that the Winks name has been passed on because she suffered many a teasing wink during her younger years.
We were all shocked that Cedric was such a small baby. The Jones/Mensings boast 2 relatives over 6'4". Anna's father is 6'7". Cedric was just over 6 pounds and 18 inches long. Of course he's the most beautiful baby in the world according to his Grandberry.
Though my Herceptin infusions continue for another couple of months, they are no big deal. In fact I suffered very few side effects from the cancer treatments, only from the radiation. I've nearly forgotten any of the negatives. So much so that I am considering reconstructive surgery. I lost one of the Implants to an infection. At first, I claimed to only want to be balanced. Recently I have been considering requesting the body of a 22-year-old. But now I'm thinking of no additional surgery because I really don't want to be out of action again. I have returned Pickleball and love it.
One of the benefits of the continuing infusions in Boston is that I can count on seeing Cedric at least every three weeks. I've babysat for him twice and am willing to do so anytime I am asked.
By the way, I moved back to the Cape. I bought a small condominium in a former motel. So small that I removed the only two doors and a protruding closet to open it up a bit. You may wonder where I put my clothesand shoes. Behind a wall of curtains, which squares off the bedroom. And I just warn potential visitors that there is no bathroom door. I've hosted two tables of bridge, one in each of the two rooms!
I had a lot of help with the condo, some professional and the rest from sisters and a friend.
One friend described it as a jewel box. I am thrilled with it and to be living right in the middle of all my friends and in the darling town of Harwichport.
Thursday, January 7, 2016
Tuesday, May 5, 2015
I'm feeling a little sorry for myself right now.
A little lonely, a little sad, mostly about relationships that have ended, one that I have been nurturing in my own mind for over 3 decades.
So I called dear Karl, one of my favorite buyers of real estate. I've learned a lot from Karl and I admire him very much. He does some sort of social work and he houses, in his own home, people who need care.
We looked at lots of places. We met some interesting animals including a pig that we posed with and a dog who attacked me. Karl loved them all and wanted to buy each one, instantly. He showed his parents a couple of them and they totally said no and withdrew their financial support from his dream. He let it go for that summer and saved up enough of his own money to proceed without the help of his parents.
He struggled a bit with the decision in the end and my comment about the darling house under contract was, "You can pay that much for a car."
Done. He loves it and has made many excellent improvements.
Turns out it was a great call for Karl, too. I'll ask his permission before I relay any of what he said, but I think we were both helped by my call.
Then I talked to Ruby, George, Bobbi, Joan, Sue, Beth and the vets office. I have an appointment with Dr. Neil Story to examine an abandoned dog that someone else may not be able to keep. He is the perfect size and so handsome, plus he is two years old. I know it's a little soon to get a dog what with more chemo coming, but the doctor said walking is the best revenge. And I had no reactions or symptoms of nausea or pain in the first round of the aborted cycle. So maybe a dog now is a perfect timing.
Andy and I'd been talking about a dog: he wanted a pure Daschound and I want a doxy mix. I'm sort of surprised we never got a call from the ASPCA, where we registered for one of 71 Daschounds that had been rescued this "spring".
Connie thought I was doing fine
Because my blog seemed so easy breezy.
I haven't been writing about an especially difficult part of my life since my relationship is private. But Andy did make it public during my surgery by telling the kids, my sisters and three very good, old friends about our separating. I spent much of the weekend following surgery mourning the death of my family. Even though I am grateful to be alone, I do feel very sad about the end of an era. And actually I think our family will be better for our separation, especially because there will be no tension during family get-togethers For some reason during my four-day stay at the hospital last weekend, I had a psych evaluation. The psychiatrist said it was about my scratching and letting germs enter my body, risking another infection. Andy told me it's because the nurses thought I am crazy.
After talking to me, Bambi and Becky, the psychiatrist told me she thought I am very resilient. I agree.
But it is lucky this Evaluation happened before I caused a little panic in my sick ward. I left the premises, which the nurses knew. But they never expected me to be out for three hours. They called the plastic surgeon and hospital security. Dr. Liao called Andy and Blake and missing persons at the Police Department (I think he was really joking about that). I had dinner with Pat and Laura at the Liberty Hotel next-door. I did have a vodka, for which the nurse was grateful I was truthful. I was no longer on pain medication and they told me it was fine to have a drink then.
I haven't been writing about an especially difficult part of my life since my relationship is private. But Andy did make it public during my surgery by telling the kids, my sisters and three very good, old friends about our separating. I spent much of the weekend following surgery mourning the death of my family. Even though I am grateful to be alone, I do feel very sad about the end of an era. And actually I think our family will be better for our separation, especially because there will be no tension during family get-togethers For some reason during my four-day stay at the hospital last weekend, I had a psych evaluation. The psychiatrist said it was about my scratching and letting germs enter my body, risking another infection. Andy told me it's because the nurses thought I am crazy.
After talking to me, Bambi and Becky, the psychiatrist told me she thought I am very resilient. I agree.
But it is lucky this Evaluation happened before I caused a little panic in my sick ward. I left the premises, which the nurses knew. But they never expected me to be out for three hours. They called the plastic surgeon and hospital security. Dr. Liao called Andy and Blake and missing persons at the Police Department (I think he was really joking about that). I had dinner with Pat and Laura at the Liberty Hotel next-door. I did have a vodka, for which the nurse was grateful I was truthful. I was no longer on pain medication and they told me it was fine to have a drink then.
Thursday, April 30, 2015
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.
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."
So I changed Cloud's name to Mooncloud because I want to be able to also say, "Good Night Moon."
Friday, April 24, 2015
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.
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."
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."
Thursday, April 23, 2015
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.
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.
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