Nina tagged me for the 7 weird things meme, so this is for Nina. Thank you for the distraction. And then I'm not posting again until next week. Keep praying, please. Get everyone to pray.
I'm not sure these things are so much weird as they are just random. Here you go:
1. I 'm obsessed with skincare and anti-aging products. I put three different products on my face every day that cost $50 each (and that's not all I put on my face every day - you don't even want to know what my skin care process involves. Let's just say it's becoming time consuming now that I've added lactic acid to the mix). Is it working? How the hell would I know.
2. When I go out of town for more than 2 nights, I unplug all the lamps in the house. The toaster is never plugged in. I have obsessive compulsive disorder, really, I do.
3. I have two coffee pots, but I don't drink coffee. I started drinking coffee when I was 8, because my dad told me it would stunt my growth and I would be shorter than I otherwise would have been. I drank it every morning from the time I was 8 until I went to law school. I'm 5 foot 9 and I don't drink coffee anymore. Did it work? How the hell would I know.
4. If I could be anything in the world - have any other job - I would be an architect. Hands down, no question. I missed my calling.
5. I'm not a shoe person, I'm a coat person.
6. My favorite foods are sushi and dark chocolate.
7. I love all things lime. If I am going to eat something artificially flavored - at the very least it has to be citrus, but preferably lime. In fact, I really like to just eat limes, until my stomach hurts. And I have an unusual liking for all things pickled. Oh, I used to drink vinegar when I was a kid.
I guess I could have done the 7 people maybe - Ellen DeGeneres, Gloria Steinem, hmm, there is one more that I'm leaving off because I don't want to say who it is, I'm distantly related to Mr. Howell from Gilligan's Island (but I never met him). Let me keep thinking on this. Edited to add: Can I count people that I stood on a street corner right next to, but was too afraid to say hello to? Scarlet Johansen and Ewen McGregor - outside of my former office in Detroit when they were filming the Island - my office building was right in the set and we stood outside and watched for hours at a time - I turned around, and almost bumped into them.
I'm tagging Rachel, okay, and Trey. I can't tag 7 people right now, I just can't.
Here's your instructions:
Link to the person who tagged you. Leave a comment on their blog so that their readers can visit yours. Post the rules on your blog. Share the seven most famous or infamous people you have met. Or go with the original 7 weird things about yourself. Tag 7 people.
Tuesday, January 29, 2008
I wish I had something more positive to say
I suppose I shouldn't characterize this as bad, so let's say it's neutral at this point. My MRI was fine on the right where I had cancer and questionable on the left where I didn't have cancer. The spot that previously enhanced on the left is not there, but, there are two other suspicious spots showing up on that side that were not on my MRI 11 months ago. How suspicious, I can't really say. They aren't actually described all that suspiciously and if I had never had it before, they would wait 6 months and do another MRI to see if they are still there. I was told so many things yesterday that I don't know what to make of it. They see this all the time and it's nothing. It's possible to have enhancements go away, I have had that happen for example, but these two spots show up very clearly and everything else is quiet on that side.
It could very well be nothing, because MRIs are sensitive and like I mentioned in that last post, doctors don't like to do them for this very reason. Or, it could be something. It's probably more likely nothing, but because I've had breast cancer before, my doctor is going to biopsy both spots to check. Unfortunately, because I've had it, they will biopsy anything they see basically. And because I defied the odds the first time, well, we can't base it on odds alone.
These two spots did not show up on the mammogram or ultrasound that I had 5 months ago, and it can't be felt. I thought that was encouraging. However, my doctor said that it is entirely possible to have breast cancer go undetected by touch, mammogram or ultrasound. That's comforting isn't it ladies? Can we really trust anything to catch this? It seems not.
Anyway, I don't know when I will know anything and I probably won't post again until next week. So, if you could just keep praying, I would be grateful.
It could very well be nothing, because MRIs are sensitive and like I mentioned in that last post, doctors don't like to do them for this very reason. Or, it could be something. It's probably more likely nothing, but because I've had breast cancer before, my doctor is going to biopsy both spots to check. Unfortunately, because I've had it, they will biopsy anything they see basically. And because I defied the odds the first time, well, we can't base it on odds alone.
These two spots did not show up on the mammogram or ultrasound that I had 5 months ago, and it can't be felt. I thought that was encouraging. However, my doctor said that it is entirely possible to have breast cancer go undetected by touch, mammogram or ultrasound. That's comforting isn't it ladies? Can we really trust anything to catch this? It seems not.
Anyway, I don't know when I will know anything and I probably won't post again until next week. So, if you could just keep praying, I would be grateful.
Monday, January 28, 2008
Waiting sucks
This basically just sucks. Waiting sucks. Having to work while waiting sucks. It's distracting on the one hand but it sucks. The weekend overall was okay though. I just did what I always do, cleaned, ran errands, did laundry, went to a couple of AA meetings, talked to a couple of friends, worked out, and bought two books on Buddhism and recovery/the AA twelve steps. This has always been interesting to me and made more sense to me than other things in this little spiritual quest I've been on.
I left a message for the physician's assistant this morning - but so far I haven't heard back. But then again, the MRI was at 5:30 p.m. Friday and it's only 10 a.m. here. So, I'm sure it's not been read yet. When my morning conference calls are over, I am going to call my oncologist and my surgeon. Because why not right? Why not call everyone I can. It's going to be okay right? It has to be. I'm resisting the urge to make any more bargains with God about this. I'm trying not to, but all I can think is - if this turns out okay, I'm going to change my life. I am. I am going to change it.
I feel sick to my stomach.
Edited to add: The PA just called. The report is not available but she will keep checking and call me when she gets it. She thinks she can have it by the end of the day. If she doesn't, she will see if she can get a preliminary report but she will call me this afternoon either way. I love this woman. She deserves some kind of award for being the best medical professional on the planet. I seriously wish she knew how awesome she is. I wish I could tell her. Seriously - she's amazing. And I did start shaking when the phone rang - I recognize her number - we've talked so many times. I am surprised I haven't just saved it in my cell phone. More later...
Edited again: Should I be worried that it's 12:16 and she hasn't called? Probably not. She said she could get it by the END of today. End, that means 5, not now. She has other things to do than check my records every 5 minutes. I'm so unproductive. Why am I even here at work? (Because I have two conference calls). Wouldn't I rather be at home waiting? Yes. I would. But I am trying to just be as normal as possible. I came back to work a week and a half after I was diagnosed and then proceed to work 50 hours per week through cancer treatment. The reason why is a story in itself, but I suppose it can only be explained one way - I am a freak. I only need to bill 10.4 hours by the end of this month to stay on target for the minimum requirement, and I have 4 days to do it. So it's okay that I'm not productive. And, why am I talking about billable hours at a time like this? Exactly. Who the hell cares.
I left a message for the physician's assistant this morning - but so far I haven't heard back. But then again, the MRI was at 5:30 p.m. Friday and it's only 10 a.m. here. So, I'm sure it's not been read yet. When my morning conference calls are over, I am going to call my oncologist and my surgeon. Because why not right? Why not call everyone I can. It's going to be okay right? It has to be. I'm resisting the urge to make any more bargains with God about this. I'm trying not to, but all I can think is - if this turns out okay, I'm going to change my life. I am. I am going to change it.
I feel sick to my stomach.
Edited to add: The PA just called. The report is not available but she will keep checking and call me when she gets it. She thinks she can have it by the end of the day. If she doesn't, she will see if she can get a preliminary report but she will call me this afternoon either way. I love this woman. She deserves some kind of award for being the best medical professional on the planet. I seriously wish she knew how awesome she is. I wish I could tell her. Seriously - she's amazing. And I did start shaking when the phone rang - I recognize her number - we've talked so many times. I am surprised I haven't just saved it in my cell phone. More later...
Edited again: Should I be worried that it's 12:16 and she hasn't called? Probably not. She said she could get it by the END of today. End, that means 5, not now. She has other things to do than check my records every 5 minutes. I'm so unproductive. Why am I even here at work? (Because I have two conference calls). Wouldn't I rather be at home waiting? Yes. I would. But I am trying to just be as normal as possible. I came back to work a week and a half after I was diagnosed and then proceed to work 50 hours per week through cancer treatment. The reason why is a story in itself, but I suppose it can only be explained one way - I am a freak. I only need to bill 10.4 hours by the end of this month to stay on target for the minimum requirement, and I have 4 days to do it. So it's okay that I'm not productive. And, why am I talking about billable hours at a time like this? Exactly. Who the hell cares.
Saturday, January 26, 2008
Why the MRIs are so upsetting, well, one reason
I've never told most people this. Only a few people know. It makes me so angry to talk about it, that I don't talk about it. First let me say that when I was diagnosed with breast cancer - it was more than a shock, even to the doctors. Because I was 28, with no family history and not a single risk factor. I'll post that story too, sometime soon - because it could save some one's life.
So, the MRIs. When I was diagnosed, I had a breast MRI - to get another picture/different picture - something for comparison later, and to look for anything else that might be cancer. The problem with breast MRIs is that MRIs are extremely sensitive and pick up all kinds of things that are nothing. They pick up lymph nodes and hormonal enhancements and you have to time it just right in your cycle - it has to be between days 5 and 8, otherwise, you are going to get all kinds of things that show up. Some doctors won't do breast MRIs as a breast cancer screening tool because of this. Other doctors will because mammograms are not as good on young women because young women tend to have dense breast tissue. I happen to have very dense breast tissue. So the first MRI was at the very beginning. Yup - tumor was most definitely there. The fist MRI was done on day 21 of my cycle because it didn't make sense to wait.
Then I started taking chemo drugs shortly thereafter. I did the chemo first, before surgery, with the hope of shrinking the tumor and losing less breast tissue. I did 8 rounds of chemo but I had the follow-up MRI the day of the 8th treatment. Amazingly - the tumor was gone. GONE. 7 chemo treatments and it was gone. What showed up was some residual enhancement in the area where the tumor was. This was good news because chemo drugs work, but they don't usually work this well, only less than 30% of the time does someone have what they call a "complete" response to chemo. I had the best possible outcome that one can have to breast cancer treatment. Even more amazing was the fact that the tumor I had - was 4cm. It was huge. It was gone.
The radiologist called me after that 2nd MRI to tell me that the tumor was gone. And oh by the way she says, that nodule on the left (note that the tumor was in my right breast) - it's still there and it's the same size, so that's good. Wait what? The what on my left side? There's a what on the left side? What are you talking about - no one told me that something showed up on the left side? NO ONE BOTHERED TO CALL ME AND TELL ME THAT MY FIRST MRI SHOWED SOMETHING ON THE OTHER SIDE. WHY THE FUCK DIDN'T ANYONE TELL ME THAT MY FIRST MRI SHOWED SOMETHING ON THE OTHER SIDE? No one could answer that question. I promptly started freaking out. My surgeon blamed the radiologist, the radiologist blamed the surgeon. The head of the breast clinic eventually admitted that yes, I should have in fact been told, and yes, it was in fact a mistake that I hadn't been. A mistake.
It took me quite sometime to get that man on the phone and to get him to admit they had made a mistake. My surgeon said it was so tiny and so unconcerning that it probably just slipped by because no one thought anything of it. It just slipped by. And, she said, the fact that it showed up the second time was good news - probably a lymph node or a hormonal enhancement. It could plausibly have been hormonal on the first MRI - because the timing during my cycle was bad. But for the 2nd MRI - I had no hormones, I had no period, I was in menopause from the chemo drugs. But regardless she said - it's still there so it isn't cancer, because if it was, it would be gone because the tumor is gone. So don't worry. Right, okay. I then had another radiologist tell me that she wasn't sure she really could see it on the 2nd MRI - so was it or wasn't it there? And if it wasn't there on the 2nd MRI, what does that mean? That it wasn't there because it was cancer and the chemo got it, or it wasn't there because it had been hormonal? We will never know.
My point - in all the arguing that I did with my doctors and the hospital - was simply that we will never know. We will never know for certain whether I had it also on the other side and by not telling me BEFORE I took any chemo drugs, they took away all my options to know. If they had told me, we could have biopsied it. We could have done a lumpectomy over there and checked the area. We could have checked. Now granted my doctor might not have wanted to go digging around over there if she thought it was nothing (like I said, they don't like these MRIs for this very reason - you go digging for things that are nothing) - BUT THE POINT IS, THEY TOOK AWAY MY CHOICES WHEN THOSE STUPID MOTHERFUCKERS DIDN'T BOTHER TO TELL ME. By the time I knew that there had been something on the other side, it was too late. We couldn't even take out a chunk of tissue at that point and check it - because the chemo worked so well, that when they took out the breast tissue where the tumor had been - they didn't find a single cancer cell in it.
Why does this matter so much? You might say - well, if it was cancer, it's gone. It matters because they tell you that you have to do radiation because radiation significantly reduces the risk of recurrence. I did radiation on the right where we knew I had it. But I didn't do it on the left because we (they) assume it was nothing. So that means if I did have it on the left, then the odds of it coming back are much higher because I didn't have surgery over there or radiation. I tried desperately to get out of doing radiation - I tried everything to get out of it - everything. And in the end I did it because my doctor said to me - they type of cancer you had is as dangerous and deadly as it can be - so you should do everything you can, because why in the world would you give it a chance to come back and spread the second time?
Right. Uh huh. Good point. And what about the left side and the fact that we don't know if I had cancer there? What if it comes back, right there, and it spreads? What if? Yes, it could be a lymph node. No, it probably wasn't cancer. But the point is, we'll never know.
I had a third MRI in March of last year. The nodule wasn't there.
Part of what we are looking for on the MRI is that nodule or lymph node or whatever it was. And I'm just scared because we did everything we could on the right, but not on the left. All because of a mistake - a little something that just slipped by. But it's the kind of mistake that can mean the difference between life and death. Because seriously, what if I had it there and I get it again and it spreads before we catch it? I don't think I'll ever get comfortable with what we don't know about the left side. I will always worry, because we don't know. It's an uncertainty that I'm uncomfortable with.
And I'm still really fucking angry about it because they took my choices away from me and now I have to live with the uncertainty. I'm sure that if this hadn't happened, these MRIs would still be stressful - I'm sure of that. But what happened makes it worse - it makes the whole thing worse.
So, the MRIs. When I was diagnosed, I had a breast MRI - to get another picture/different picture - something for comparison later, and to look for anything else that might be cancer. The problem with breast MRIs is that MRIs are extremely sensitive and pick up all kinds of things that are nothing. They pick up lymph nodes and hormonal enhancements and you have to time it just right in your cycle - it has to be between days 5 and 8, otherwise, you are going to get all kinds of things that show up. Some doctors won't do breast MRIs as a breast cancer screening tool because of this. Other doctors will because mammograms are not as good on young women because young women tend to have dense breast tissue. I happen to have very dense breast tissue. So the first MRI was at the very beginning. Yup - tumor was most definitely there. The fist MRI was done on day 21 of my cycle because it didn't make sense to wait.
Then I started taking chemo drugs shortly thereafter. I did the chemo first, before surgery, with the hope of shrinking the tumor and losing less breast tissue. I did 8 rounds of chemo but I had the follow-up MRI the day of the 8th treatment. Amazingly - the tumor was gone. GONE. 7 chemo treatments and it was gone. What showed up was some residual enhancement in the area where the tumor was. This was good news because chemo drugs work, but they don't usually work this well, only less than 30% of the time does someone have what they call a "complete" response to chemo. I had the best possible outcome that one can have to breast cancer treatment. Even more amazing was the fact that the tumor I had - was 4cm. It was huge. It was gone.
The radiologist called me after that 2nd MRI to tell me that the tumor was gone. And oh by the way she says, that nodule on the left (note that the tumor was in my right breast) - it's still there and it's the same size, so that's good. Wait what? The what on my left side? There's a what on the left side? What are you talking about - no one told me that something showed up on the left side? NO ONE BOTHERED TO CALL ME AND TELL ME THAT MY FIRST MRI SHOWED SOMETHING ON THE OTHER SIDE. WHY THE FUCK DIDN'T ANYONE TELL ME THAT MY FIRST MRI SHOWED SOMETHING ON THE OTHER SIDE? No one could answer that question. I promptly started freaking out. My surgeon blamed the radiologist, the radiologist blamed the surgeon. The head of the breast clinic eventually admitted that yes, I should have in fact been told, and yes, it was in fact a mistake that I hadn't been. A mistake.
It took me quite sometime to get that man on the phone and to get him to admit they had made a mistake. My surgeon said it was so tiny and so unconcerning that it probably just slipped by because no one thought anything of it. It just slipped by. And, she said, the fact that it showed up the second time was good news - probably a lymph node or a hormonal enhancement. It could plausibly have been hormonal on the first MRI - because the timing during my cycle was bad. But for the 2nd MRI - I had no hormones, I had no period, I was in menopause from the chemo drugs. But regardless she said - it's still there so it isn't cancer, because if it was, it would be gone because the tumor is gone. So don't worry. Right, okay. I then had another radiologist tell me that she wasn't sure she really could see it on the 2nd MRI - so was it or wasn't it there? And if it wasn't there on the 2nd MRI, what does that mean? That it wasn't there because it was cancer and the chemo got it, or it wasn't there because it had been hormonal? We will never know.
My point - in all the arguing that I did with my doctors and the hospital - was simply that we will never know. We will never know for certain whether I had it also on the other side and by not telling me BEFORE I took any chemo drugs, they took away all my options to know. If they had told me, we could have biopsied it. We could have done a lumpectomy over there and checked the area. We could have checked. Now granted my doctor might not have wanted to go digging around over there if she thought it was nothing (like I said, they don't like these MRIs for this very reason - you go digging for things that are nothing) - BUT THE POINT IS, THEY TOOK AWAY MY CHOICES WHEN THOSE STUPID MOTHERFUCKERS DIDN'T BOTHER TO TELL ME. By the time I knew that there had been something on the other side, it was too late. We couldn't even take out a chunk of tissue at that point and check it - because the chemo worked so well, that when they took out the breast tissue where the tumor had been - they didn't find a single cancer cell in it.
Why does this matter so much? You might say - well, if it was cancer, it's gone. It matters because they tell you that you have to do radiation because radiation significantly reduces the risk of recurrence. I did radiation on the right where we knew I had it. But I didn't do it on the left because we (they) assume it was nothing. So that means if I did have it on the left, then the odds of it coming back are much higher because I didn't have surgery over there or radiation. I tried desperately to get out of doing radiation - I tried everything to get out of it - everything. And in the end I did it because my doctor said to me - they type of cancer you had is as dangerous and deadly as it can be - so you should do everything you can, because why in the world would you give it a chance to come back and spread the second time?
Right. Uh huh. Good point. And what about the left side and the fact that we don't know if I had cancer there? What if it comes back, right there, and it spreads? What if? Yes, it could be a lymph node. No, it probably wasn't cancer. But the point is, we'll never know.
I had a third MRI in March of last year. The nodule wasn't there.
Part of what we are looking for on the MRI is that nodule or lymph node or whatever it was. And I'm just scared because we did everything we could on the right, but not on the left. All because of a mistake - a little something that just slipped by. But it's the kind of mistake that can mean the difference between life and death. Because seriously, what if I had it there and I get it again and it spreads before we catch it? I don't think I'll ever get comfortable with what we don't know about the left side. I will always worry, because we don't know. It's an uncertainty that I'm uncomfortable with.
And I'm still really fucking angry about it because they took my choices away from me and now I have to live with the uncertainty. I'm sure that if this hadn't happened, these MRIs would still be stressful - I'm sure of that. But what happened makes it worse - it makes the whole thing worse.
Doing okay
So I'm alternating between okay and not okay. Mostly I'm okay though. This morning I got up, worked out, went to an AA meeting, had coffee with my sponsor and two other women, and then went shopping. The meditation CD is going to have to wait for tomorrow because parking was a nightmare. Then I came home, had lunch, updated my Google reader with all the new blogs I have to read. Now I just need to update my blog with new links. I was trying to upload a picture of my puzzle, but it doesn't seem to be working for some reason - the upload isn't working. I'll try later. I might go to Target and waste money. I really want a new vacuum. The thought of a new vacuum excites me. Kind of pathetic. When this is over and everything is okay, I might buy an all new wardrobe. Just for fun. The AA meeting was outstanding actually. An 11th step meeting - all about spirituality and it was really really good. I was glad I went. I ran into this women there that I really like that I hadn't seen in a while. She said something that really helped me when I told her what was going on.
Mostly I've been distracting myself. Sometimes when I go through this - I think I need to find a better way to deal with it, because it's exhausting. Other times, I think I should just cut myself some slack and give myself a break. Maybe I am dealing with it pretty well, and in any case, the best way that I can.
There is a reason why I feel so upset about these MRIs, besides the obvious. I'll post the story later - tomorrow probably. It's going to make me seething mad to talk about it. So I don't talk about it, but I guess I should. For now, let's just say that not every last little part of me surviving breast cancer went smoothly - mostly it did - I basically survived breast cancer like nothing happened - but one thing did happen that ended with the head of the breast center calling me to apologize and me trying to figure out some way to sue the hospital and the doctors. And the result of what happened is that I feel a thousand times more upset about these MRIs than I probably otherwise would have. Can I claim emotional distress as my damages? Because that's the only damage I have from what happened, so far anyway.
So - before I work myself into a fit over this thing that happened (which may arguably be no big deal, but the point is, we will never know), I'll just leave it there for the moment.
More later...
Mostly I've been distracting myself. Sometimes when I go through this - I think I need to find a better way to deal with it, because it's exhausting. Other times, I think I should just cut myself some slack and give myself a break. Maybe I am dealing with it pretty well, and in any case, the best way that I can.
There is a reason why I feel so upset about these MRIs, besides the obvious. I'll post the story later - tomorrow probably. It's going to make me seething mad to talk about it. So I don't talk about it, but I guess I should. For now, let's just say that not every last little part of me surviving breast cancer went smoothly - mostly it did - I basically survived breast cancer like nothing happened - but one thing did happen that ended with the head of the breast center calling me to apologize and me trying to figure out some way to sue the hospital and the doctors. And the result of what happened is that I feel a thousand times more upset about these MRIs than I probably otherwise would have. Can I claim emotional distress as my damages? Because that's the only damage I have from what happened, so far anyway.
So - before I work myself into a fit over this thing that happened (which may arguably be no big deal, but the point is, we will never know), I'll just leave it there for the moment.
More later...
Friday, January 25, 2008
And now we wait
Thank you for continuing to stop by everyone - I appreciate it immensely. Lots of people have stopped by again today and it's nice to not feel so alone over here. I've never really had support through anything I've been through - I've mostly just dealt with things alone. Even through breast cancer treatment I was basically alone. My tendency is to push everyone away when I have something to deal with and shut everyone out. I have this everyone go away and just leave me alone type reaction to things. And I always debate - do I mention the appointment to anyone - because if I do, then they are going to ask how it went - or do I keep it a secret and just deal with it, whatever it is? The fear of course - what if it isn't okay and then I have to tell all these people that - and I don't know how to deal with other peoples' reactions. I just don't know how to act. So, let's just hope it's okay and that I have only good news. I am glad that I mentioned it. It's not that I've never wanted support from people, it's just that I've never had it. I think I just might have the most unsupportive mother on the planet.
It takes 3-5 days for the written report - but I don't care about seeing the report - I just need someone to call me. Of course the technician can't tell me anything - so I know nothing at this point. Sorry - I wish I had news, but I don't. The appointment itself was fine though - the MRI isn't the most pleasant because of the contrast that they inject into your body, and I'm tired of needles and IVs. But it was okay. I just got home from it.
Now we just wait. At least when I have mammograms they read them while you wait right there. I have a radiologist that I request and she even takes me in back and goes over the films with me. But for this, we just have to wait. Sometimes a radiologist calls, sometimes my doctor. Sigh. I have a plan (of course I do).
First thing Monday morning I am going to call my oncologist's PA. My onc didn't order the MRI, my surgeon did, but her PA is the most responsive person I've ever met. Seriously - she is amazing. I wrote a post about her once. And I know that I can count on her to get those results ASAP and call me immediately. I'm also going to call my friend who is a resident in the rad onc unit - because she will also call me the second she can get her hands on it. Between one of the two of them - I can probably get my hands on it on Monday. It's good to be connected when it comes to this kind of thing.
Monday seems like a long way away doesn't it? In the mean time, I am going to try to just relax and enjoy the weekend. Because why not right? Amazingly, I don't even have to work this weekend, which is great, given the insanity going on there. And I am going to buy myself a new meditation CD tomorrow, work-out, drink tea, and do a puzzle. I love jig-saw puzzles. I can sit at the table for 10 hours straight and work on one.
Keep sending good thoughts and I will post when I know something! And when everything turns out fine, what should I do to celebrate (besides drink, since I don't!)? Plan a trip to go visit my brother, sister-in-law and nephew maybe?
*Edited to add: I spoke too soon. Now that I've been home for a little while, I'm starting to freak out. I really really want this to be okay. And I really want to enjoy the weekend. But I just don't think I can until I know. Ugh.
It takes 3-5 days for the written report - but I don't care about seeing the report - I just need someone to call me. Of course the technician can't tell me anything - so I know nothing at this point. Sorry - I wish I had news, but I don't. The appointment itself was fine though - the MRI isn't the most pleasant because of the contrast that they inject into your body, and I'm tired of needles and IVs. But it was okay. I just got home from it.
Now we just wait. At least when I have mammograms they read them while you wait right there. I have a radiologist that I request and she even takes me in back and goes over the films with me. But for this, we just have to wait. Sometimes a radiologist calls, sometimes my doctor. Sigh. I have a plan (of course I do).
First thing Monday morning I am going to call my oncologist's PA. My onc didn't order the MRI, my surgeon did, but her PA is the most responsive person I've ever met. Seriously - she is amazing. I wrote a post about her once. And I know that I can count on her to get those results ASAP and call me immediately. I'm also going to call my friend who is a resident in the rad onc unit - because she will also call me the second she can get her hands on it. Between one of the two of them - I can probably get my hands on it on Monday. It's good to be connected when it comes to this kind of thing.
Monday seems like a long way away doesn't it? In the mean time, I am going to try to just relax and enjoy the weekend. Because why not right? Amazingly, I don't even have to work this weekend, which is great, given the insanity going on there. And I am going to buy myself a new meditation CD tomorrow, work-out, drink tea, and do a puzzle. I love jig-saw puzzles. I can sit at the table for 10 hours straight and work on one.
Keep sending good thoughts and I will post when I know something! And when everything turns out fine, what should I do to celebrate (besides drink, since I don't!)? Plan a trip to go visit my brother, sister-in-law and nephew maybe?
*Edited to add: I spoke too soon. Now that I've been home for a little while, I'm starting to freak out. I really really want this to be okay. And I really want to enjoy the weekend. But I just don't think I can until I know. Ugh.
Thursday, January 24, 2008
A room with a view (my office)
This is the view from my office. I like it. I like to watch the sun rise over the lake in the morning - yes, I am there (here) early enough to catch it sometimes, often, depending on the season. It can be really beautiful. It's nice to have such a great view, since I spend more time looking out this window than any other.
Last night when I went to bed I felt pretty good - it was a feeling of comfort knowing that so many people had prayed for me. The last few days have been rough - work is distracting me, but not enough and well, pretty much I just have to sit in the way it feels from now until it's over. I'm hoping I can get the result Monday. In the meantime though, I'm just enjoying the view.
The kindness of strangers
An unbelievable number of people visited my blog today - seriously - I couldn't believe how many people (thank you Niobe and Waiting Amy for sending all the prayers my way). To all of you who stopped by and sent out a prayer, or left a comment - whoever you are, most of you strangers - I am grateful to all of you.
I've wanted to post these past few days about the whole cycle of emotions that I go through before these follow-up MRIs and mammograms - but I just haven't had a chance. I'm drowning at work so I can't post there and then I'm working late on top of it so by the time I get home, I don't have it in me to really go into it. A blessing in disguise probably because you can guess what the posts would be like if I had hours to sit here and try to describe it. I cycle through this whole range of things from the worst regret I've ever felt, coupled with guilt and downright anguish - all the way to over to the other side where I experience overwhelming gratitude and a deep sense of peacefulness. Eventually I suppose, by the time the appointment rolls around, you find a way to make some kind of peace with things. Because what's the alternative?
But it isn't easy. You spend a lot of time trying to rationalize it - reviewing everything you know, factually, medically, scientifically, statistically - you hear your doctor's voice in your head telling you that the odds are overwhelmingly in your favor. And you say yes, but weren't they the first time? And she says yes, but knowing everything we know now - we can say that. Before the biopsy I was told that there was less than a 1% chance that I could have breast cancer. The first doctor didn't even want to do the biopsy because I was only 28. I forced them to - and I won the lottery I guess you could say. All of the rationalizing in the world doesn't change what you feel.
And you spend a lot of time talking to God - it's one great big, several day long conversation - in which you are really just trying to find the right way to apologize. For what? For not holding up my end of the bargain. This whole experience has been one continuous negotiation in which I try to give up one thing after another in exchange for Time. I'm not even asking for a lifetime, just more time, just this little bit of time until the next time I go through this. I've offered up everything I can think of. It started with my fertility (chemo drugs frequently leave you infertile) and then over time I've offered up everything else I've ever wanted in life- every hope, every dream. But how many more times can I beg this higher power of mine to save me and expect a miracle?
I just wanted another chance so that I could live differently - so that I could live without all those regrets I discovered I had and find happiness and help other people and really deeply appreciate everything that I have in my life. But I feel like I'm failing and I'm running out of prayers and excuses, so how about a little grace instead?
I was talking about contentment in that post called Time. It makes a lot of sense to me now - of course I feel that deep feeling of contentment. I think I always do right before these appointments. Because I know what matters in life. I don't live every day as if I do, but I understand it right before I think I might lose it. And then when I find out that it's mine to keep for just a little longer, I lose sight of it again.
I won't know anything tomorrow - that might be the worst part - waiting for the phone to ring. And when it does, your stomach drops and you start shaking.
I've wanted to post these past few days about the whole cycle of emotions that I go through before these follow-up MRIs and mammograms - but I just haven't had a chance. I'm drowning at work so I can't post there and then I'm working late on top of it so by the time I get home, I don't have it in me to really go into it. A blessing in disguise probably because you can guess what the posts would be like if I had hours to sit here and try to describe it. I cycle through this whole range of things from the worst regret I've ever felt, coupled with guilt and downright anguish - all the way to over to the other side where I experience overwhelming gratitude and a deep sense of peacefulness. Eventually I suppose, by the time the appointment rolls around, you find a way to make some kind of peace with things. Because what's the alternative?
But it isn't easy. You spend a lot of time trying to rationalize it - reviewing everything you know, factually, medically, scientifically, statistically - you hear your doctor's voice in your head telling you that the odds are overwhelmingly in your favor. And you say yes, but weren't they the first time? And she says yes, but knowing everything we know now - we can say that. Before the biopsy I was told that there was less than a 1% chance that I could have breast cancer. The first doctor didn't even want to do the biopsy because I was only 28. I forced them to - and I won the lottery I guess you could say. All of the rationalizing in the world doesn't change what you feel.
And you spend a lot of time talking to God - it's one great big, several day long conversation - in which you are really just trying to find the right way to apologize. For what? For not holding up my end of the bargain. This whole experience has been one continuous negotiation in which I try to give up one thing after another in exchange for Time. I'm not even asking for a lifetime, just more time, just this little bit of time until the next time I go through this. I've offered up everything I can think of. It started with my fertility (chemo drugs frequently leave you infertile) and then over time I've offered up everything else I've ever wanted in life- every hope, every dream. But how many more times can I beg this higher power of mine to save me and expect a miracle?
I just wanted another chance so that I could live differently - so that I could live without all those regrets I discovered I had and find happiness and help other people and really deeply appreciate everything that I have in my life. But I feel like I'm failing and I'm running out of prayers and excuses, so how about a little grace instead?
I was talking about contentment in that post called Time. It makes a lot of sense to me now - of course I feel that deep feeling of contentment. I think I always do right before these appointments. Because I know what matters in life. I don't live every day as if I do, but I understand it right before I think I might lose it. And then when I find out that it's mine to keep for just a little longer, I lose sight of it again.
I won't know anything tomorrow - that might be the worst part - waiting for the phone to ring. And when it does, your stomach drops and you start shaking.
My album cover
I did the album cover meme - here is my album cover.**
Here are the directions:
1. Click on this link. The title of the page is the name of your band.
2. Click on this link. The last four words of the final quotation on the page are the title of your album.
3. Click on this link. The third picture is your album cover.
4. Add your band name and album title to the picture and you have your album cover!
** A special thank you to Niobe for doing the photo editing for me (since I couldn't figure out how to)!!!!!
Did I mention that I am swamped at work? That's why I haven't posted since the last post asking for prayers. I will try to post later...but seriously, I'm drowning...but thank you to anyone who is praying for me. It means more to me than you know.
Here are the directions:
1. Click on this link. The title of the page is the name of your band.
2. Click on this link. The last four words of the final quotation on the page are the title of your album.
3. Click on this link. The third picture is your album cover.
4. Add your band name and album title to the picture and you have your album cover!
** A special thank you to Niobe for doing the photo editing for me (since I couldn't figure out how to)!!!!!
Did I mention that I am swamped at work? That's why I haven't posted since the last post asking for prayers. I will try to post later...but seriously, I'm drowning...but thank you to anyone who is praying for me. It means more to me than you know.
Monday, January 21, 2008
I'm asking for prayers
In case you only read the beginning of this post, I'm putting this up-front. I have a follow-up MRI on Friday - to look for new instances/recurrences of breast cancer. If you are so inclined - could you pray for me, please?
I am going to try to describe something to you. It's like hanging out with someone, that really means a lot to you. And you know that it's the last time you will hang out with them for a really long time, maybe ever. This might be goodbye, in fact, it probably is. But you don't like the idea of it, or the word even - you find it impossible to say, so you try to ignore that fact while it crowds out everything else until it's the only thing you can think about. The harder you try to ignore it, the more aware of it you are. This person means so much to you that you count down the time you have left. You count down the days, the hours, right down to the minutes, the whole time anticipating that moment when you have to let go of them. This person means so much to you that you just desperately want to enjoy every second, so you try to, you focus on it. You concentrate on it, the minutes, you hear the seconds ticking even. You are desperate to make it last. You try so hard to make those last days and hours so perfect that you fail to enjoy it at all. Before you know it, it's over. You've wasted the entire time anticipating the inevitable end. And you've anticipated it so hard that you missed the very thing you most wanted to savor. You beg for just a little more time, just a few more minutes - as if a few more minutes before the end can really mean anything or make any difference. You just don't want it to be over. You want to stop time. You desperately want this moment to go on and on forever.
Every second of the days that lead up to one of these appointments is just like this - it's like the last moment you will have with someone, and you know that it's over and you just don't want it to be, but you don't have any control over it, and try as you might to enjoy it, you can't because all you can think about is the inevitable ending.
Just try to imagine the very worst possible thing that could happen to you - and how your life will be ripped out from underneath you when it happens - and you know that when it happens nothing will ever be the same again. And imagine you know just exactly when it's going to happen and how much time you have until then. And imagine what living in those moments is like - the impossibility of it.
I honestly don't know how many more times I can go through this. It is an indescribable hell. I'll try again to describe it tomorrow, because I really want to find a way to convey it. In the meantime, I am counting the days, the hours, every second, one at a time.
I am going to try to describe something to you. It's like hanging out with someone, that really means a lot to you. And you know that it's the last time you will hang out with them for a really long time, maybe ever. This might be goodbye, in fact, it probably is. But you don't like the idea of it, or the word even - you find it impossible to say, so you try to ignore that fact while it crowds out everything else until it's the only thing you can think about. The harder you try to ignore it, the more aware of it you are. This person means so much to you that you count down the time you have left. You count down the days, the hours, right down to the minutes, the whole time anticipating that moment when you have to let go of them. This person means so much to you that you just desperately want to enjoy every second, so you try to, you focus on it. You concentrate on it, the minutes, you hear the seconds ticking even. You are desperate to make it last. You try so hard to make those last days and hours so perfect that you fail to enjoy it at all. Before you know it, it's over. You've wasted the entire time anticipating the inevitable end. And you've anticipated it so hard that you missed the very thing you most wanted to savor. You beg for just a little more time, just a few more minutes - as if a few more minutes before the end can really mean anything or make any difference. You just don't want it to be over. You want to stop time. You desperately want this moment to go on and on forever.
Every second of the days that lead up to one of these appointments is just like this - it's like the last moment you will have with someone, and you know that it's over and you just don't want it to be, but you don't have any control over it, and try as you might to enjoy it, you can't because all you can think about is the inevitable ending.
Just try to imagine the very worst possible thing that could happen to you - and how your life will be ripped out from underneath you when it happens - and you know that when it happens nothing will ever be the same again. And imagine you know just exactly when it's going to happen and how much time you have until then. And imagine what living in those moments is like - the impossibility of it.
I honestly don't know how many more times I can go through this. It is an indescribable hell. I'll try again to describe it tomorrow, because I really want to find a way to convey it. In the meantime, I am counting the days, the hours, every second, one at a time.
The difference between content and inert
I suppose at first glance, the difference is obvious - these two things don't really have a whole lot to do with each other. Except...
I suggested to someone yesterday that maybe this thing that I'm feeling - that I've been feeling for a little while - is contentment. Maybe I am content. Maybe that's what this is. Maybe I am just fine with the way things are. Maybe getting up every day, exercising, going to work for 10 hours, and hitting a meeting or heading home to watch t.v. - maybe that's enough and I'm fine with it. This thing that I am endlessly searching for - happiness, serenity, contentment - maybe I have it, right here all around me. Of course, how the hell would I know? If happiness was delivered to my doorstep in a nice box with a pretty bow - would I even be able to identify it as such? If I had happiness, would I know it? Because how often in life do we fail completely to acknowledge what is good or right about our lives, and instead identify all of the things that we would change or that we wish were different?
The more I think about these things the more I am convinced that these things are just a state of mind - and that I could easily have these things if I just decided to - if I maybe decided to acknowledge the good in my life a little more often as opposed to always focusing on the bad. For me, to achieve those things, to have that state of mind - requires one simple thing. Acceptance. I can either be upset about the way my life is and make myself miserable wanting it to be different, or I can just accept that it is the way it is. A funny thing happens when you achieve real acceptance about it - and I mean, real, true acceptance (which is an incredibly difficult thing to come by and hard to articulate) - there is nothing left to be upset about or to wish for. I suppose it is possible to accept things while at the same time wishing things were different - there are varying degrees of contentment and happiness I suppose. For me though - it's more of an all or nothing thing.
Most days I choose to struggle and be upset about my life and make myself miserable wishing things were different. On occasion - I feel the way I have felt lately - which is content. Why? Because I accept it the way it is. I have these days where I can ask myself - what if this is as good as it (meaning life) ever gets? And I can say, really truly - I am fine with that, it's really okay. And then as soon as I start wanting something, well, that feeling of contentment goes out the window. I guess lately I just choose to accept it, whatever it is. Because I can't change it. Or can I? I go back and forth between believing that I have the power to change the things that I wish were different in my life and believing that I have no control over this path that I'm on and no power to affect it, so I might as well accept it.
I go back and forth, between feeling miserable in this way and feeling like I can't change the things that make me miserable, and accepting those things as a last resort and feeling momentarily content. There is an in between, I know - it is feeling miserable and taking action to change it. But I don't feel like taking action (and it also doesn't seem to work on some things). I just feel like accepting it. Am I actually content though, or just inert? I don't know.
I suggested to someone yesterday that maybe this thing that I'm feeling - that I've been feeling for a little while - is contentment. Maybe I am content. Maybe that's what this is. Maybe I am just fine with the way things are. Maybe getting up every day, exercising, going to work for 10 hours, and hitting a meeting or heading home to watch t.v. - maybe that's enough and I'm fine with it. This thing that I am endlessly searching for - happiness, serenity, contentment - maybe I have it, right here all around me. Of course, how the hell would I know? If happiness was delivered to my doorstep in a nice box with a pretty bow - would I even be able to identify it as such? If I had happiness, would I know it? Because how often in life do we fail completely to acknowledge what is good or right about our lives, and instead identify all of the things that we would change or that we wish were different?
The more I think about these things the more I am convinced that these things are just a state of mind - and that I could easily have these things if I just decided to - if I maybe decided to acknowledge the good in my life a little more often as opposed to always focusing on the bad. For me, to achieve those things, to have that state of mind - requires one simple thing. Acceptance. I can either be upset about the way my life is and make myself miserable wanting it to be different, or I can just accept that it is the way it is. A funny thing happens when you achieve real acceptance about it - and I mean, real, true acceptance (which is an incredibly difficult thing to come by and hard to articulate) - there is nothing left to be upset about or to wish for. I suppose it is possible to accept things while at the same time wishing things were different - there are varying degrees of contentment and happiness I suppose. For me though - it's more of an all or nothing thing.
Most days I choose to struggle and be upset about my life and make myself miserable wishing things were different. On occasion - I feel the way I have felt lately - which is content. Why? Because I accept it the way it is. I have these days where I can ask myself - what if this is as good as it (meaning life) ever gets? And I can say, really truly - I am fine with that, it's really okay. And then as soon as I start wanting something, well, that feeling of contentment goes out the window. I guess lately I just choose to accept it, whatever it is. Because I can't change it. Or can I? I go back and forth between believing that I have the power to change the things that I wish were different in my life and believing that I have no control over this path that I'm on and no power to affect it, so I might as well accept it.
I go back and forth, between feeling miserable in this way and feeling like I can't change the things that make me miserable, and accepting those things as a last resort and feeling momentarily content. There is an in between, I know - it is feeling miserable and taking action to change it. But I don't feel like taking action (and it also doesn't seem to work on some things). I just feel like accepting it. Am I actually content though, or just inert? I don't know.
Saturday, January 19, 2008
How fewer miles can make you feel farther apart
The physical distance between you isn't the thing that defines how close you are to someone. I know this because my best friend Heather and I don't live in the same state. When we did, we didn't live in the same city. She moved away when we were 7 - and she's been my best friend, well, ever since then or since I can remember really. I don't remember not knowing her - we met when we were 3. And 27 years later we are as close as we ever were. She is the one thing that I know will always be a constant in my life - no matter where we live or in what direction our lives take us, she will be there. I wrote this post called To My Best Friend Heather back when I started this blog. Everyone should be so lucky to have a friendship like this one in his or her life.
I was thinking about my brother, who has moved back to the U.S. from Germany - and how much closer I felt to them when they were so much farther away. Maybe it was the time difference and the fact that my long day was his afternoon and evening so it was easy to connect - coupled with the fact that we were all logged into Gmail chat all day and could talk nearly every day the entire time they were over there. Lately, I feel like there are thousands and thousands of miles between us. I've talked to my brother on the phone once since Christmas and only a couple of times and very briefly on instant message. There are other people I feel less connected to these days also. Maybe it's just the natural progression of things.
I would have hoped to feel the comfort of having them closer - even though they are in Boston and I'm in Chicago - because in many ways they are all I have. But I don't feel that - I just feel kind of disconnected and lost and alone over here. I don't feel bad - things are good actually - I just feel a little alone without them. I hope it's just temporary, that's all. They moved right before the holidays, were living in two places, trying to find a place, start new jobs, get settled, etc. Extremely stressful I'm sure. Of course it is selfish of me to want to see them and talk to them - so I'm selfish then. Is it really so terrible that I want to feel connected to them?
It just scares me I guess. Our lives change and we go in so many different directions and have so many different things going on that I worry it will become harder and harder to meet in the middle. I don't want them to be people that I only see or hear from at the holidays - an obligatory phone call or that kind of thing. Or I worry that they aren't that interested in being close to me - that's all in my head though, I know. I have this "alcoholic" way of thinking about the world - which I'm sure some of you know what I mean and others of you have no idea what I'm talking about - but let's just say my perception is off - it is a disease of misperception.
I guess I just feel sad about it for some reason today. As uncomfortable as it makes me to say it, I miss them.
I was thinking about my brother, who has moved back to the U.S. from Germany - and how much closer I felt to them when they were so much farther away. Maybe it was the time difference and the fact that my long day was his afternoon and evening so it was easy to connect - coupled with the fact that we were all logged into Gmail chat all day and could talk nearly every day the entire time they were over there. Lately, I feel like there are thousands and thousands of miles between us. I've talked to my brother on the phone once since Christmas and only a couple of times and very briefly on instant message. There are other people I feel less connected to these days also. Maybe it's just the natural progression of things.
I would have hoped to feel the comfort of having them closer - even though they are in Boston and I'm in Chicago - because in many ways they are all I have. But I don't feel that - I just feel kind of disconnected and lost and alone over here. I don't feel bad - things are good actually - I just feel a little alone without them. I hope it's just temporary, that's all. They moved right before the holidays, were living in two places, trying to find a place, start new jobs, get settled, etc. Extremely stressful I'm sure. Of course it is selfish of me to want to see them and talk to them - so I'm selfish then. Is it really so terrible that I want to feel connected to them?
It just scares me I guess. Our lives change and we go in so many different directions and have so many different things going on that I worry it will become harder and harder to meet in the middle. I don't want them to be people that I only see or hear from at the holidays - an obligatory phone call or that kind of thing. Or I worry that they aren't that interested in being close to me - that's all in my head though, I know. I have this "alcoholic" way of thinking about the world - which I'm sure some of you know what I mean and others of you have no idea what I'm talking about - but let's just say my perception is off - it is a disease of misperception.
I guess I just feel sad about it for some reason today. As uncomfortable as it makes me to say it, I miss them.
Wednesday, January 16, 2008
A less desirable candidate
A psychiatrist that I saw a few times called me that once - a less desirable candidate. She said, "Of course the pool of men who are going to be willing to date you is significantly reduced because you had breast cancer. There are going to be men who consider you a less desirable candidate and will eliminate you as an option based on that fact alone." I said, "Oh, I had been hoping for something a little better than someone who was just willing to date me. I was hoping for someone who wanted to." It's a good thing I wasn't seeing her to deal with any emotional issues (I saw her a few times while trying to decide whether to take medication) - she did more damage in one minute than I care to go into. I have thought about it nearly every day since and thought about what it means.
But my point isn't how rude it was, or insensitive, or maybe poorly phrased, or even just plain unnecessary - but is she right?
The longer I spend alone, the less interested I become in bothering to find someone to be with. The longer I spend alone, the more I just see myself spending the rest of my life that way. There are things that I think I missed about being in a relationship and I don't miss those things anymore. I've just grown not to miss them. And because I have these things about me that make me a "less desirable candidate," I don't even want to go down the road of having to tell someone what those things are so that I can be eliminated (as she so eloquently put it). I'd rather just not.
People ask me a lot about dating in versus out of the program - and I don't know which is better for me. There are obvious advantages to dating in the program - the person gets you in a way that a non-program person can't. Of course there are non-program people who respect your sobriety or who respect recovery, but even though they respect it, they don't get it in the way we do. There are advantages to having an unspoken understanding about it. You also have the obvious advantage of not having to tell the person you are trying to date that you are sober. That's something I haven't figured out - when to tell, what to say...I just don't know. But I have enough fear around having to tell a non-program guy why I don't drink - that I don't even bother trying to meet any non-program guys. And then there are disadvantages to dating in the program that I won't go into.
This is on my mind because this guy at work said he has someone to introduce me to. Great. He said, "why don't we get a couple of people together and go for a drink so it isn't totally uncomfortable and set up? " I of course said, "great, sure!" I said that knowing it would only happen if I pushed him to get it set up, and knowing also that I won't bother to. Because what is the only thing thirty-something people go do when they want to meet up, or hang out, or introduce people to people? Go for a few cocktails. So I would have to go - and who am I going to bring except sober people - and sit there while they drink and be totally uncomfortable about the fact that I'm not drinking, which yes would be obvious since the point would be to go for drinks. Part of me thinks it might be nice to meet this person - BUT - I (a) don't want the meeting to be uncomfortable, and (b) don't want to deal with having to bring up the not drinking. Yes, I know, you don't have to bring it up right away, but eventually you do have to bring it up, and I wouldn't be able to wait very long. I would feel like I was pretending to be something that I'm not (or pretending not to be something that I am) if it wasn't out there in the open.
Besides the fear of telling someone that I'm sober (and being automatically eliminated because of it) - having to tell someone I had breast cancer is something I also have a lot of fear about. I have had this conversation with friends - about when the right time to tell someone is. They always say - you don't have to tell them - you can wait as long as you want. I kind of disagree. What if this woman is right - and men won't date me because of it - I would rather know than become even a tiny bit invested and then be rejected down the road for it. Never mind the fact that the first time I take my shirt off I would have to explain. It's not that my body has been disfigured because of it - but there is a 1 1/2 inch scar on my right breast and a 2 inch scar under my right arm, two tiny blue dots from the radiation, and my skin is slightly discolored in one spot from the radiation still.
I just don't know what the right time is to tell someone - but I feel like it matters. It matters because I could get it again and die, or it would be this whole ordeal that would have to be dealt with - and I could understand why someone just wouldn't want to sign up for it. And yes, it's true, a lot of people get breast cancer - but I can also so understand why someone would reject me because of it. Some of my friends have said that you can wait for months and months before you tell someone. I'm just not sure about that. Yeah I want it to be something that's in the past, but it's a huge thing, I don't feel like I should keep it a secret. I would never reject a guy on the basis that he had cancer - but I would also want to know (and not several months into it) - rather than just have it mentioned later as an after thought.
And yes, or course, I know that the guy who rejects me because I had breast cancer or because I'm sober is not the guy I want to be with. I know that. But that doesn't make it easier to tell someone and be eliminated for it. Knowing there are assholes out there and that I don't want to be with those people doesn't make me feel better about myself, it doesn't make me feel desirable, it doesn't make me think that she was wrong, it doesn't make me want to try. I'd rather just be alone and not bother trying, than have to tell any guy those two things and be eliminated because of it. I'd rather just be alone than go through how that would make me feel.
But my point isn't how rude it was, or insensitive, or maybe poorly phrased, or even just plain unnecessary - but is she right?
The longer I spend alone, the less interested I become in bothering to find someone to be with. The longer I spend alone, the more I just see myself spending the rest of my life that way. There are things that I think I missed about being in a relationship and I don't miss those things anymore. I've just grown not to miss them. And because I have these things about me that make me a "less desirable candidate," I don't even want to go down the road of having to tell someone what those things are so that I can be eliminated (as she so eloquently put it). I'd rather just not.
People ask me a lot about dating in versus out of the program - and I don't know which is better for me. There are obvious advantages to dating in the program - the person gets you in a way that a non-program person can't. Of course there are non-program people who respect your sobriety or who respect recovery, but even though they respect it, they don't get it in the way we do. There are advantages to having an unspoken understanding about it. You also have the obvious advantage of not having to tell the person you are trying to date that you are sober. That's something I haven't figured out - when to tell, what to say...I just don't know. But I have enough fear around having to tell a non-program guy why I don't drink - that I don't even bother trying to meet any non-program guys. And then there are disadvantages to dating in the program that I won't go into.
This is on my mind because this guy at work said he has someone to introduce me to. Great. He said, "why don't we get a couple of people together and go for a drink so it isn't totally uncomfortable and set up? " I of course said, "great, sure!" I said that knowing it would only happen if I pushed him to get it set up, and knowing also that I won't bother to. Because what is the only thing thirty-something people go do when they want to meet up, or hang out, or introduce people to people? Go for a few cocktails. So I would have to go - and who am I going to bring except sober people - and sit there while they drink and be totally uncomfortable about the fact that I'm not drinking, which yes would be obvious since the point would be to go for drinks. Part of me thinks it might be nice to meet this person - BUT - I (a) don't want the meeting to be uncomfortable, and (b) don't want to deal with having to bring up the not drinking. Yes, I know, you don't have to bring it up right away, but eventually you do have to bring it up, and I wouldn't be able to wait very long. I would feel like I was pretending to be something that I'm not (or pretending not to be something that I am) if it wasn't out there in the open.
Besides the fear of telling someone that I'm sober (and being automatically eliminated because of it) - having to tell someone I had breast cancer is something I also have a lot of fear about. I have had this conversation with friends - about when the right time to tell someone is. They always say - you don't have to tell them - you can wait as long as you want. I kind of disagree. What if this woman is right - and men won't date me because of it - I would rather know than become even a tiny bit invested and then be rejected down the road for it. Never mind the fact that the first time I take my shirt off I would have to explain. It's not that my body has been disfigured because of it - but there is a 1 1/2 inch scar on my right breast and a 2 inch scar under my right arm, two tiny blue dots from the radiation, and my skin is slightly discolored in one spot from the radiation still.
I just don't know what the right time is to tell someone - but I feel like it matters. It matters because I could get it again and die, or it would be this whole ordeal that would have to be dealt with - and I could understand why someone just wouldn't want to sign up for it. And yes, it's true, a lot of people get breast cancer - but I can also so understand why someone would reject me because of it. Some of my friends have said that you can wait for months and months before you tell someone. I'm just not sure about that. Yeah I want it to be something that's in the past, but it's a huge thing, I don't feel like I should keep it a secret. I would never reject a guy on the basis that he had cancer - but I would also want to know (and not several months into it) - rather than just have it mentioned later as an after thought.
And yes, or course, I know that the guy who rejects me because I had breast cancer or because I'm sober is not the guy I want to be with. I know that. But that doesn't make it easier to tell someone and be eliminated for it. Knowing there are assholes out there and that I don't want to be with those people doesn't make me feel better about myself, it doesn't make me feel desirable, it doesn't make me think that she was wrong, it doesn't make me want to try. I'd rather just be alone and not bother trying, than have to tell any guy those two things and be eliminated because of it. I'd rather just be alone than go through how that would make me feel.
Monday, January 14, 2008
Gone awry
The situation with my sponsor is not right. It hasn't been right for a while actually. It went awry somewhere in mid-December and hasn't recovered. If I had to say what went wrong, well, I can't really say. It is possible that the problem started before mid-December really. For me it started to feel wrong right before Christmas. We had a disagreement. Which is generally fine - we don't always agree and I wouldn't expect us to. There are certainly things that may be handled multiple different ways and of course you won't always agree with your sponsor on how to handle something. She doesn't have the monopoly on sobriety or anything, or how to live life for that matter. I think she has whatever reason for believing in what she said, and honestly, who knows what else she might have had going on coloring the situation, and I respect her opinion on it, I just disagree with it, and after careful reflection and discussing it with a long-time sober and very trusted person, I still just disagree with it. And that's fine, but it isn't I guess. It caused a rift between us, or rather it just cracked wide open the one that was developing. Generally speaking I think such things can be overcome - except that this particular thing seems to have seeped it's way into everything. It's not just about the one particular situation anymore - it is bleeding over into the handling of other things.
The why of it doesn't matter I suppose and certainly no one is to blame - just the fact of it is important. My relationship with my sponsor has been compromised - and by compromised I mean I no longer feel able to tell her the truth. That's a problem. If you can't tell your sponsor the truth then your relationship is pointless and ineffective. I've tried to call her to discuss it but she hasn't called me back. In fact - the last time I talked to her was, um, gee, I don't know. Last Thursday I think. Anyway - I've basically been operating without a sponsor for a month now. And of course the right thing is to discuss it with her (because this could be a bigger deal in my head than it actually is - except that the feeling of not being able to tell the truth to her may not be possible to remedy), but I can't get her on the phone and the past several times we had plans to meet up to do step work, she canceled on me. I am harboring major resentments against this woman at the moment. How much of this is my resentments versus the actual situation? I don't know. I just know that I feel like I can't be honest with her, and that isn't going to work. And she seems to be too busy to even call me back - and yes of course people get busy, but I can probably count on one hand the number of times she didn't call me back the same day (and two of them have been in the past week) - and I just find it interesting because her other sponsee said yesterday that she has talked to her every time she has needed to. Hmm - maybe she is feeling like something isn't right also.
The why of it doesn't matter I suppose and certainly no one is to blame - just the fact of it is important. My relationship with my sponsor has been compromised - and by compromised I mean I no longer feel able to tell her the truth. That's a problem. If you can't tell your sponsor the truth then your relationship is pointless and ineffective. I've tried to call her to discuss it but she hasn't called me back. In fact - the last time I talked to her was, um, gee, I don't know. Last Thursday I think. Anyway - I've basically been operating without a sponsor for a month now. And of course the right thing is to discuss it with her (because this could be a bigger deal in my head than it actually is - except that the feeling of not being able to tell the truth to her may not be possible to remedy), but I can't get her on the phone and the past several times we had plans to meet up to do step work, she canceled on me. I am harboring major resentments against this woman at the moment. How much of this is my resentments versus the actual situation? I don't know. I just know that I feel like I can't be honest with her, and that isn't going to work. And she seems to be too busy to even call me back - and yes of course people get busy, but I can probably count on one hand the number of times she didn't call me back the same day (and two of them have been in the past week) - and I just find it interesting because her other sponsee said yesterday that she has talked to her every time she has needed to. Hmm - maybe she is feeling like something isn't right also.
Sunday, January 13, 2008
The part about food
So, remember how I called myself out about something the other day - about body image, self esteem etc.? This is the part about food.
Where to draw the line between normal and abnormal depends on what you are talking about I suppose. Are you talking about drinking, eating, gambling, shopping? Sometimes it's a fine line between what is normal or not so normal. The only reason this (my self-esteem, and my habits around food) is on my mind right now is because, well, I'm engaging in some typical (meaning I've done this before) behavior relating to OCD, anxiety, my body-image, my self-esteem and food. I'm linking to this old post I wrote last April called Let's get honest about body image, self-esteem and the food I eat, because it describes pretty well the abnormality surrounding my relationship with food.
I could say more about this - but this old post says enough. My relationship with food is just like my relationship with alcohol. It is obsessive, compulsive and controlling. I think about it constantly. Sometimes it seems like my life revolves around when I can eat and what I get to eat next and while what I eat appears normal and healthy, and I always eat, sometimes there is just something not normal about it. Sometimes the control stems from believing that I have to be thinner to attract a guy, sometimes it's because I think I can prevent the world from crumbling around me by eating or not eating something (that's the obsessive compulsive disorder part). Regardless, I don't ever just eat - it's never as simple as just eating something because I want it. Food isn't just food - dinner isn't just dinner.
Like I said - I eat a normal amount of food. But what is a normal amount of thinking about food? A couple of years ago I decided I wanted to lose 10 pounds, so I cut calories and over 5 months, lost 10 pounds. I think it was a pretty healthy way to do it. Now - mind you, I didn't need to lose 10 pounds. So because you need a caloric deficit of 3500 calories to lose 1 pound, I figured out what caloric intake was required to maintain my body weight and then just chopped out 250 a day. This is pretty easy - calories in, calories out. It's easy to eliminate 250 - skip OJ in the morning and cut out a bread product like bread with your salad. Or for dinner - replace 1/3 - 1/2 of that giant pile of pasta on your plate for example, with a cup of a vegetable (and don't butter the vegetable). Well, I've never had to diet per se, and I'm not saying it's easy - I'm just saying in theory it seems easy (in practice it's not necessarily).
Do you know how many calories are in 1 cup of cucumber? A cup of broccoli? A grapefruit? A banana? An apple? Your OJ (without looking)? That coffee you get every morning? One serving of chicken? Do you know what one serving is? A serving of raw spinach? The bread your sandwich is on? Your cereal? The Parmesan cheese? The honey mustard? A serving of almonds? I do. I know what's in everything because I learned it all when I was cutting calories out. Here's the problem - for someone with anxiety and OCD - who sometimes uses controlling food as a way to control anxiety, and oh by the way doesn't have the best self-esteem and has pretty bad body image - sometimes I just have this running tally of calories in my head making me feel bad about myself - and it's very crazy making behavior - all of it.
The other day I tried on every pair of pants in my closet - just like I said in that old post.
I could say more about the OCD part of this - but I guess I won't right now - even though this is by far the most annoying and irrational part of all of it.
I suppose there are some times when food is just food and dinner is just dinner and I eat whatever the heck I want and enjoy it - for example - I'm eating chocolate right now, and I've eaten a lot today (I do eat a lot, seriously) but a lot of the time, eating isn't just eating - it's so much more complicated.
So the question is - what will happen if I simply decide to behave differently when it comes to food? Will it change my thinking about food - you know, as they say in AA - you have to act your way into right thinking (as opposed to the other way around)? For me - this is straight up step 7 (character defects and needing to be free of them) - what underlies your character defects? Fear. What do you need to be free of to be free of your character defects? The fear underlying them. What if I simply change - what happens? What if I simply decide to feel differently about my body - what happens? We are about to find out.
Where to draw the line between normal and abnormal depends on what you are talking about I suppose. Are you talking about drinking, eating, gambling, shopping? Sometimes it's a fine line between what is normal or not so normal. The only reason this (my self-esteem, and my habits around food) is on my mind right now is because, well, I'm engaging in some typical (meaning I've done this before) behavior relating to OCD, anxiety, my body-image, my self-esteem and food. I'm linking to this old post I wrote last April called Let's get honest about body image, self-esteem and the food I eat, because it describes pretty well the abnormality surrounding my relationship with food.
I could say more about this - but this old post says enough. My relationship with food is just like my relationship with alcohol. It is obsessive, compulsive and controlling. I think about it constantly. Sometimes it seems like my life revolves around when I can eat and what I get to eat next and while what I eat appears normal and healthy, and I always eat, sometimes there is just something not normal about it. Sometimes the control stems from believing that I have to be thinner to attract a guy, sometimes it's because I think I can prevent the world from crumbling around me by eating or not eating something (that's the obsessive compulsive disorder part). Regardless, I don't ever just eat - it's never as simple as just eating something because I want it. Food isn't just food - dinner isn't just dinner.
Like I said - I eat a normal amount of food. But what is a normal amount of thinking about food? A couple of years ago I decided I wanted to lose 10 pounds, so I cut calories and over 5 months, lost 10 pounds. I think it was a pretty healthy way to do it. Now - mind you, I didn't need to lose 10 pounds. So because you need a caloric deficit of 3500 calories to lose 1 pound, I figured out what caloric intake was required to maintain my body weight and then just chopped out 250 a day. This is pretty easy - calories in, calories out. It's easy to eliminate 250 - skip OJ in the morning and cut out a bread product like bread with your salad. Or for dinner - replace 1/3 - 1/2 of that giant pile of pasta on your plate for example, with a cup of a vegetable (and don't butter the vegetable). Well, I've never had to diet per se, and I'm not saying it's easy - I'm just saying in theory it seems easy (in practice it's not necessarily).
Do you know how many calories are in 1 cup of cucumber? A cup of broccoli? A grapefruit? A banana? An apple? Your OJ (without looking)? That coffee you get every morning? One serving of chicken? Do you know what one serving is? A serving of raw spinach? The bread your sandwich is on? Your cereal? The Parmesan cheese? The honey mustard? A serving of almonds? I do. I know what's in everything because I learned it all when I was cutting calories out. Here's the problem - for someone with anxiety and OCD - who sometimes uses controlling food as a way to control anxiety, and oh by the way doesn't have the best self-esteem and has pretty bad body image - sometimes I just have this running tally of calories in my head making me feel bad about myself - and it's very crazy making behavior - all of it.
The other day I tried on every pair of pants in my closet - just like I said in that old post.
I could say more about the OCD part of this - but I guess I won't right now - even though this is by far the most annoying and irrational part of all of it.
I suppose there are some times when food is just food and dinner is just dinner and I eat whatever the heck I want and enjoy it - for example - I'm eating chocolate right now, and I've eaten a lot today (I do eat a lot, seriously) but a lot of the time, eating isn't just eating - it's so much more complicated.
So the question is - what will happen if I simply decide to behave differently when it comes to food? Will it change my thinking about food - you know, as they say in AA - you have to act your way into right thinking (as opposed to the other way around)? For me - this is straight up step 7 (character defects and needing to be free of them) - what underlies your character defects? Fear. What do you need to be free of to be free of your character defects? The fear underlying them. What if I simply change - what happens? What if I simply decide to feel differently about my body - what happens? We are about to find out.
Friday, January 11, 2008
Time
Every so often I am blessed with the perspective you can only have when you've been through what I've been through. The perspective you can only have when you have faced your own mortality - the perspective that allows you to have a real appreciation that the moment you are sitting in is a gift, not your own, not to be taken for granted, and terribly fragile. It is that perspective that allows you to see the richness and the fullness all around you - to see every last detail and savor every last second - to know, unequivocally, the meaning of it all and what matters in life. This perspective that I'm talking about - what it feels like to have that moment when you realize - my God, this life that I have lived might be it - and then to live through it - I have tried, but failed to articulate it.
These are the moments - when you really engage yourself with what you have been through, instead of acting as if you were merely an observer. When you allow yourself to think about it, to feel it, to be it, to live it, to survive it - it is a different experience when you are inside of it. These are the moments when you let down your guard enough to comprehend just how it has impacted your life. It is heartbreaking, it is terrifying, it is riddled with feelings of desperation and urgency. It is impossible to describe. You don't exist there, in those moments, because you can't. It is simply too overwhelming.
And in these moments, with the kind of clarity that comes coupled with the acknowledgment that there exists a very real possibility that your life will once again be turned upside down on top of you when you least expect it - you are able to let go of it all - everything you ever wanted in life - this is the moment when it suddenly becomes enough to just be alive. I try to imagine the moment - that moment, if and when it happens, that I will be told I have breast cancer again, or told that it has spread. I don't do it to torture myself, I do it to prepare myself. Because when I try to live out from under the weight of it, I just feel myself suffocating anyway. This - this fact - this possibility - it is nearly impossible to live with. You try to accept it, live with it and ignore it all at the same time.
It is in those moments when you allow yourself to go there - into the feeling of it - into the reality of it - into the experience of it - that you are overwhelmed with that perspective that I'm talking about. But it is all so fleeting. As quickly as you find yourself on the floor, doubled over in anguish, begging to some sort of higher power for one more chance to live your life differently so that you might have some hope of not regretting everything - it's gone.
That moment that I imagine - if it ever happens - I know that I won't wish that I had lost 5 pounds, or that I had saved an extra hundred thousand dollars for my down payment, or that I had found a man to be with or had children even. I know just exactly what that moment will be like. I will wish only that I had one thing - time, and the ability to enjoy it.
These are the moments - when you really engage yourself with what you have been through, instead of acting as if you were merely an observer. When you allow yourself to think about it, to feel it, to be it, to live it, to survive it - it is a different experience when you are inside of it. These are the moments when you let down your guard enough to comprehend just how it has impacted your life. It is heartbreaking, it is terrifying, it is riddled with feelings of desperation and urgency. It is impossible to describe. You don't exist there, in those moments, because you can't. It is simply too overwhelming.
And in these moments, with the kind of clarity that comes coupled with the acknowledgment that there exists a very real possibility that your life will once again be turned upside down on top of you when you least expect it - you are able to let go of it all - everything you ever wanted in life - this is the moment when it suddenly becomes enough to just be alive. I try to imagine the moment - that moment, if and when it happens, that I will be told I have breast cancer again, or told that it has spread. I don't do it to torture myself, I do it to prepare myself. Because when I try to live out from under the weight of it, I just feel myself suffocating anyway. This - this fact - this possibility - it is nearly impossible to live with. You try to accept it, live with it and ignore it all at the same time.
It is in those moments when you allow yourself to go there - into the feeling of it - into the reality of it - into the experience of it - that you are overwhelmed with that perspective that I'm talking about. But it is all so fleeting. As quickly as you find yourself on the floor, doubled over in anguish, begging to some sort of higher power for one more chance to live your life differently so that you might have some hope of not regretting everything - it's gone.
That moment that I imagine - if it ever happens - I know that I won't wish that I had lost 5 pounds, or that I had saved an extra hundred thousand dollars for my down payment, or that I had found a man to be with or had children even. I know just exactly what that moment will be like. I will wish only that I had one thing - time, and the ability to enjoy it.
Thursday, January 10, 2008
Calling myself out on something
I'm calling myself out on something - this is never pleasant. This may take multiple posts.
First of all - I went to the gym tonight - an actual gym, not the gym in my condo. I went with a colleague who belongs to the gym across the street from our office to take a spin class. Yes folks, this dabbling in exercise is taking me way outside of my comfort zone. I am trying to decide whether to join this gym - would I go, would I take classes, does it fit with my work schedule? The stationary bike seat - it's not comfortable. Maybe you need some padding on your behind (which I don't have). My butt is not happy with me. So one hour later, lots of sweat later, a bottle of water later - I actually survived and felt pretty good. I had been scared going into it. We are talking a lot of sweat - like dripping down your back - if you have any makeup up on (which of course I did) it's gone in 10 minutes kind of sweat. I am happy to report that all that sweat later - my eye shadow was still completely on (priorities folks - if you are going to embarrass yourself - you might as well look pretty doing it I suppose).
Unfortunately, the spin classes are all at 6 - which is really too early for me generally speaking. Plus, am I really a gym person? An expensive gym person? Am I a $111 a month (that's with my discount through my employer) type gym person? I suspect probably not, but I am going to use another guest pass to take another spin class next week while I try to figure it out.
This is where I'm calling myself out. There we were in a room of 40 people, mostly women, cycling away. Everyone appeared to be in great shape and looked really great - everyone looked fit and healthy. Then there was me thinking - my gosh - these people all look great and I'm smaller than all of them - what kind of messed up body image am I operating under? When I look at myself - I see someone who could stand to lose 5-6 pounds - I feel disgusted when I look at myself. I feel gross and I feel like I look terrible. I don't see what other people see when I look at myself and it doesn't matter what I know to be true - my body image is really far out of line. For some reason - tonight - I saw just how skewed it actually is.
Lately I've been exercising - to be healthy, and to try to fight depression and alleviate stress/anxiety - but I would be lying if I didn't admit that I am also trying to lose 5 pounds. Now granted every time I've wanted to lose weight - I go about it in a healthy way - but this is where I'm calling myself out. I'm 5 foot 9 and 133 pounds. I feel most comfortable with myself when I weigh 128 - I want to weigh 128. Why? Do I have to admit this? Because there is some part of me that thinks I need to weigh less to find a guy. I've always been thin - good genes - I've always had super fast metabolism. Up until I was 19 - I only weighed 115 pounds at 5 foot 9 (that's actually really gross) - and trust me, I wasn't anorexic or anything like that - just fast metabolism. I eat more food than most women I know - even now. I would even be embarrassed to admit what I've eaten today - that's how much food I eat. And I just stay the same - 128 to 133, even without exercising - it just fluctuates a bit depending on a few things.
I don't need to lose 5 pounds.
There is more to this calling myself out and it does have to do with food and what is and isn't normal when it comes to your relationship with food - next post maybe.
Mostly though - I'm just calling myself out on this because I am sick and tired of feeling uncomfortable with my body - I just want to like my body and like myself - I want to see it realistically - I want to perceive myself accurately - I want to have confidence no matter what. I'm tired of wishing I looked different - of wishing I were shorter, thinner, that my feet were smaller, that I had better hair - I'm tired of it. I just want to like myself - right now, this second - without changing anything. That person - that felt those things - that didn't like herself - that did things for wrong reasons and made bad choices out of fear and low self-esteem - I can't stand to be that person for another day. I want to love myself and accept myself, and I never have before.
Edited to add: In my defense - naturally I feel the need to defend myself since I know how crazy this all sounds - that's why I don't talk about it - because it sounds ridiculous for me to talk about body image issues - but this is a real problem for a lot of people, no matter what size you are. Anyway, in my defense - the reason I feel most comfortable with myself at a lower weight - is because I don't gain weight evenly. I gain it in one spot - the middle - my waist. Plus, I have extremely long legs and a very short torso - so there isn't much room there. People always say, you could gain 20 pounds and no one would know. And that's true - if I gained it all over - but I don't. 5-10 pounds on my short little waist is noticeable and for me to be proportionately thin - I have to weigh on the very low side of normal. My body has always been that way - my body is like my mother's that way. Now - why I am so obsessed with this is really the issue, and I do know how crazy it all sounds - I'm just saying - these things are real issues for me that I don't talk about and that I feel like I can't talk about because people don't understand why I could ever have an issue with it. I'll explain in the next post about food.
First of all - I went to the gym tonight - an actual gym, not the gym in my condo. I went with a colleague who belongs to the gym across the street from our office to take a spin class. Yes folks, this dabbling in exercise is taking me way outside of my comfort zone. I am trying to decide whether to join this gym - would I go, would I take classes, does it fit with my work schedule? The stationary bike seat - it's not comfortable. Maybe you need some padding on your behind (which I don't have). My butt is not happy with me. So one hour later, lots of sweat later, a bottle of water later - I actually survived and felt pretty good. I had been scared going into it. We are talking a lot of sweat - like dripping down your back - if you have any makeup up on (which of course I did) it's gone in 10 minutes kind of sweat. I am happy to report that all that sweat later - my eye shadow was still completely on (priorities folks - if you are going to embarrass yourself - you might as well look pretty doing it I suppose).
Unfortunately, the spin classes are all at 6 - which is really too early for me generally speaking. Plus, am I really a gym person? An expensive gym person? Am I a $111 a month (that's with my discount through my employer) type gym person? I suspect probably not, but I am going to use another guest pass to take another spin class next week while I try to figure it out.
This is where I'm calling myself out. There we were in a room of 40 people, mostly women, cycling away. Everyone appeared to be in great shape and looked really great - everyone looked fit and healthy. Then there was me thinking - my gosh - these people all look great and I'm smaller than all of them - what kind of messed up body image am I operating under? When I look at myself - I see someone who could stand to lose 5-6 pounds - I feel disgusted when I look at myself. I feel gross and I feel like I look terrible. I don't see what other people see when I look at myself and it doesn't matter what I know to be true - my body image is really far out of line. For some reason - tonight - I saw just how skewed it actually is.
Lately I've been exercising - to be healthy, and to try to fight depression and alleviate stress/anxiety - but I would be lying if I didn't admit that I am also trying to lose 5 pounds. Now granted every time I've wanted to lose weight - I go about it in a healthy way - but this is where I'm calling myself out. I'm 5 foot 9 and 133 pounds. I feel most comfortable with myself when I weigh 128 - I want to weigh 128. Why? Do I have to admit this? Because there is some part of me that thinks I need to weigh less to find a guy. I've always been thin - good genes - I've always had super fast metabolism. Up until I was 19 - I only weighed 115 pounds at 5 foot 9 (that's actually really gross) - and trust me, I wasn't anorexic or anything like that - just fast metabolism. I eat more food than most women I know - even now. I would even be embarrassed to admit what I've eaten today - that's how much food I eat. And I just stay the same - 128 to 133, even without exercising - it just fluctuates a bit depending on a few things.
I don't need to lose 5 pounds.
There is more to this calling myself out and it does have to do with food and what is and isn't normal when it comes to your relationship with food - next post maybe.
Mostly though - I'm just calling myself out on this because I am sick and tired of feeling uncomfortable with my body - I just want to like my body and like myself - I want to see it realistically - I want to perceive myself accurately - I want to have confidence no matter what. I'm tired of wishing I looked different - of wishing I were shorter, thinner, that my feet were smaller, that I had better hair - I'm tired of it. I just want to like myself - right now, this second - without changing anything. That person - that felt those things - that didn't like herself - that did things for wrong reasons and made bad choices out of fear and low self-esteem - I can't stand to be that person for another day. I want to love myself and accept myself, and I never have before.
Edited to add: In my defense - naturally I feel the need to defend myself since I know how crazy this all sounds - that's why I don't talk about it - because it sounds ridiculous for me to talk about body image issues - but this is a real problem for a lot of people, no matter what size you are. Anyway, in my defense - the reason I feel most comfortable with myself at a lower weight - is because I don't gain weight evenly. I gain it in one spot - the middle - my waist. Plus, I have extremely long legs and a very short torso - so there isn't much room there. People always say, you could gain 20 pounds and no one would know. And that's true - if I gained it all over - but I don't. 5-10 pounds on my short little waist is noticeable and for me to be proportionately thin - I have to weigh on the very low side of normal. My body has always been that way - my body is like my mother's that way. Now - why I am so obsessed with this is really the issue, and I do know how crazy it all sounds - I'm just saying - these things are real issues for me that I don't talk about and that I feel like I can't talk about because people don't understand why I could ever have an issue with it. I'll explain in the next post about food.
Wednesday, January 09, 2008
The time a gigantic fire truck and eight firemen came to my house
I had this weird dream last night in which I had rented an apartment. It was a dump. And it was furnished. Now I know that in undergrad we always rented furnished apartments - but when I think about this now - it grosses me out. Imagine how many gross things happened on those couches. Plus, I really only like new construction. I know - it's kind of like parking at work - but I just don't like to live in dumpy or old places. I like the nice, clean newness. Anyway - in this dream I was going around the house checking the smoke detectors to see if they worked. There were a lot of them. And I was trying to find a carbon monoxide detector in the house. I was pissed because I was having to buy batteries for a bunch of them and I kept saying how I was going to bill the landlord for it. Sadly - these are things I would probably do in real life.
It just made me think about this place that I lived in law school for 8 months. It was a dump - well - okay, maybe not a total dump - but it was kind of a dump. At least the furniture was mine. I had the first floor of a house for $600 a month which is cheap in the town I went to school in. The wood floors were totally uneven and I couldn't for the life of me get them clean - your socks would turn black. The kitchen was the worst I think - just old and crappy. No counter or cupboard space - the microwave had to be kept in the dining room. Anyway - it wasn't terrible I guess.
So there was this one night in early December one year, when I was studying for law school exams - the night before two of them. Suddenly, my house filled with the smell of gas - not the stove - the stove was electric - gasoline. After a while it was making me sick and I couldn't figure out where it was coming from - not my apartment, but somewhere in the house. I called my dad. We decided I should call the non-emergency number for the fire department - because isn't that what you would do if your house filled with the smell of gasoline and you had some worry that it could maybe possibly catch on fire or explode or something?
I called the non-emergency number and they thought it best to stop over and have a peek. They sent the largest fire truck possible, sirens blaring and 8 firemen in full fire gear. It was uh, embarrassing. The maintenance guy for my landlord's properties lived in the unit upstairs from me. He wasn't home. Turns out he decided to stash the snow blower in the landing to the basement. The uh, leaking snow blower - it was leaking gasoline all over the landing and basement stairs. They did a little inspection while they were at it and discovered that gas cans were being stored right next to the furnace and hot water heater. Um, HELLO? The landlord was cited for multiple building code violations in addition to the storage location of the gas cans - you should have seen the basement - it was a complete and total pit. God only knows what else was being stored down there. At first I felt bad about it - the citations - but then I didn't.
There was also the time that I went out of town for Christmas (oh, this was only about 3 weeks after the firemen incident) and when I returned, I returned to a toilet that had exploded - yes - there was shit (literally) all over the bathroom - about halfway up the walls and spread into the bedroom and the floors had to be ripped out down to the sub floor and replaced because poo had seeped between. The landlord apparently thought the maintenance guy could clean this mess up with a sponge and some dish soap - which if you know me a little, you know this would not fly. I hired the catastrophe clean up people (yes, that is actually what they were called) (the heat vents had to be cleaned as well cause the poo got in there) - had the floor ripped out and replaced, billed the landlord for the whole thing and oh yeah, I deemed it uninhabitable and deducted rent for the time period in which I could not live there.
You can see why I only lived there for 8 months. Maybe this poo incident is why I only like new construction.
It just made me think about this place that I lived in law school for 8 months. It was a dump - well - okay, maybe not a total dump - but it was kind of a dump. At least the furniture was mine. I had the first floor of a house for $600 a month which is cheap in the town I went to school in. The wood floors were totally uneven and I couldn't for the life of me get them clean - your socks would turn black. The kitchen was the worst I think - just old and crappy. No counter or cupboard space - the microwave had to be kept in the dining room. Anyway - it wasn't terrible I guess.
So there was this one night in early December one year, when I was studying for law school exams - the night before two of them. Suddenly, my house filled with the smell of gas - not the stove - the stove was electric - gasoline. After a while it was making me sick and I couldn't figure out where it was coming from - not my apartment, but somewhere in the house. I called my dad. We decided I should call the non-emergency number for the fire department - because isn't that what you would do if your house filled with the smell of gasoline and you had some worry that it could maybe possibly catch on fire or explode or something?
I called the non-emergency number and they thought it best to stop over and have a peek. They sent the largest fire truck possible, sirens blaring and 8 firemen in full fire gear. It was uh, embarrassing. The maintenance guy for my landlord's properties lived in the unit upstairs from me. He wasn't home. Turns out he decided to stash the snow blower in the landing to the basement. The uh, leaking snow blower - it was leaking gasoline all over the landing and basement stairs. They did a little inspection while they were at it and discovered that gas cans were being stored right next to the furnace and hot water heater. Um, HELLO? The landlord was cited for multiple building code violations in addition to the storage location of the gas cans - you should have seen the basement - it was a complete and total pit. God only knows what else was being stored down there. At first I felt bad about it - the citations - but then I didn't.
There was also the time that I went out of town for Christmas (oh, this was only about 3 weeks after the firemen incident) and when I returned, I returned to a toilet that had exploded - yes - there was shit (literally) all over the bathroom - about halfway up the walls and spread into the bedroom and the floors had to be ripped out down to the sub floor and replaced because poo had seeped between. The landlord apparently thought the maintenance guy could clean this mess up with a sponge and some dish soap - which if you know me a little, you know this would not fly. I hired the catastrophe clean up people (yes, that is actually what they were called) (the heat vents had to be cleaned as well cause the poo got in there) - had the floor ripped out and replaced, billed the landlord for the whole thing and oh yeah, I deemed it uninhabitable and deducted rent for the time period in which I could not live there.
You can see why I only lived there for 8 months. Maybe this poo incident is why I only like new construction.
Monday, January 07, 2008
The heat is not on
I was thinking more in terms of work - meaning the pressure - the pressure is not on at work. But now that I mention it, the heat actually isn't on - meaning the heat in my condo. For those of you who were following the story last year - you know that I never turned the heat on last year. Well, it seems I won't need it this year either. It's just this weird thing about my condo - it's always 70-72 degrees no matter what. If it's 50 out like today - then it's 72 in here. If it's 0 out - like last week - then it's 70 in here. I'm not sure why actually - maybe it is well insulated or something. The condos are concrete - the walls, the ceilings (you can't hear anything either between units). I have a condo above and below me and on either side of me - but one whole wall is floor to ceiling windows. I wonder if the neighbors have their heat on? It just seems like I would need the heat, a little. But, nope. I am sure that I won't. My gas bill, it's only $11 a month. When I don't cook (and I only microwave food) - it's about $3.50.
On the work front - no heat their either. I'm one of those people that works well (better?) under pressure - and there just hasn't been any since October. So - given that - I've made the decisions I need to make about the rest of the year (billable year) - I've decided to coast my way to the minimum hour requirement. I was actually on track for 150 hours over, but I lost the cushion over the holidays. Now, if I just bill an easy 160 per month - I'll hit the minimum and that's totally acceptable. It's really just a question of what your time is worth - and given that I can only get up to an extra 5% per every 100 hours over the minimum - I have deemed it not worth the effort. Why work extra hard for something unknown when I could coast for the next 4 months? If I knew I got 5%, I might do it, but what if I only get 2% - in that case I will wish I had gone home. Of course if the work is there, I'll do it, but if it isn't - or if I have to take projects I don't really want that I can decline - I might as well go home and have my free time.
Plus, I need to write an article to be published in some upcoming publications on a recent project that I did/am doing, there is a conference that I want to go to in April, and I fully intend to take some days off to go to Boston (soon I hope) to see my brother - and I might take another short trip or two. So, while I feel guilty, as I noted in my earlier post - I'm just going to get over it and enjoy not being as busy (watch - now something will happen and I'll end up swamped).
I have noticed that when the pressure goes down, my motivation goes with it and suddenly I'm half as efficient and have a hard time concentrating - so hopefully it will pick up just a little.
On the work front - no heat their either. I'm one of those people that works well (better?) under pressure - and there just hasn't been any since October. So - given that - I've made the decisions I need to make about the rest of the year (billable year) - I've decided to coast my way to the minimum hour requirement. I was actually on track for 150 hours over, but I lost the cushion over the holidays. Now, if I just bill an easy 160 per month - I'll hit the minimum and that's totally acceptable. It's really just a question of what your time is worth - and given that I can only get up to an extra 5% per every 100 hours over the minimum - I have deemed it not worth the effort. Why work extra hard for something unknown when I could coast for the next 4 months? If I knew I got 5%, I might do it, but what if I only get 2% - in that case I will wish I had gone home. Of course if the work is there, I'll do it, but if it isn't - or if I have to take projects I don't really want that I can decline - I might as well go home and have my free time.
Plus, I need to write an article to be published in some upcoming publications on a recent project that I did/am doing, there is a conference that I want to go to in April, and I fully intend to take some days off to go to Boston (soon I hope) to see my brother - and I might take another short trip or two. So, while I feel guilty, as I noted in my earlier post - I'm just going to get over it and enjoy not being as busy (watch - now something will happen and I'll end up swamped).
I have noticed that when the pressure goes down, my motivation goes with it and suddenly I'm half as efficient and have a hard time concentrating - so hopefully it will pick up just a little.
Rapidly turning over
Things are happening to0 fast for me to post about them. I keep writing posts and then before I have a chance to finish one, something happens or something changes and the post has to be re-written. I'm just having a hard time finishing anything - post related.
On a separate note - the gym in my condo is full this morning. Yes, at 5:45 - could it be because it's a new year and everyone wants to exercise, but we know in a few weeks it will be back to empty? Well, for my sake, I hope so. The gym in my condo is not that big and it's annoying to be up at 5:45 and not be able to get on any equipment. Fortunately though, I just woke up naturally at 5:30 - no alarm, so, well, at least I didn't force myself out of bed this early. It's just that I can't go to work this early - I mean I could - but I suspect I might be there late today, and well, if I get to work at like 7:15 - 7 p.m. seems a long way away. Sometimes coming in early means leaving early, but the partner I work with has been unexpectedly out for about two weeks and he's a come in later and stay later kind of guy - so, sometimes, not always, I stay late.
You know that dread that people talk about having on Sundays about going back to work? I have that - a lot lately. I have it every day, not just Sunday. I'm really not sure what the problem is. This is a new feeling for me (I mean, new since the end of November). It's not something I ever felt before about this job. I always really liked it and looked forward to going to work because my job is enjoyable and the people are great. But even now, even when I know the day will be fine, the work will be interesting, I don't want to go. Work is going really well too - though I actually feel like I've been pretty unmotivated and slacking off since November - it's really going well.
I need to make some decisions about the rest of the year (billable, not calendar year) and I need to maybe think a little bit about the longer term - there are some things I should be doing. Maybe that just scares me - to feel like I'm locking into something. But in some ways I am. I have no intention of leaving - which means I'm on one course and that's to make partner, because well, at some point you either need to leave or make partner. I have mixed feelings about it - I guess because all of the other areas of my life that aren't work related are sort of up in the air. I don't know - but I did talk to the partner about work recently and he said for sure I will make partner - no question - so, that's good I suppose. And on a good note, our raises kicked in January 1.
I've noticed something about me and I've decided to just change it, or feel differently I guess. In some ways I feel bad about my job - to be truthful - bad about the financial aspect of it. I think it stems from feelings of unworthiness and not deserving good things. Every time we get a raise (which has been often since I got there because they keep jacking up associate salaries) I am plagued with fear and feelings of oh no - now I have to work even more - and no, I don't. They aren't asking us to work more, they are just paying us more - they haven't changed anything with respect to our hours. And there is this part of me that feels like I don't deserve it (and I am sure most people don't feel this way), when in fact, I've worked hard for everything I have. I paid for my own education. I've been financially independent since I left my parents house (except for like 3,000 thousand dollars that my dad gave me during undergrad). I've earned it. So why do I continue to feel bad about it? I can't even hardly enjoy it because I feel so conflicted about it. So, I've just decided not to feel bad about it anymore.
Anyway, I'll try to finish one of those other posts later tonight I suppose.
And for those of you wondering - I'm still in a pretty good mood.
On a separate note - the gym in my condo is full this morning. Yes, at 5:45 - could it be because it's a new year and everyone wants to exercise, but we know in a few weeks it will be back to empty? Well, for my sake, I hope so. The gym in my condo is not that big and it's annoying to be up at 5:45 and not be able to get on any equipment. Fortunately though, I just woke up naturally at 5:30 - no alarm, so, well, at least I didn't force myself out of bed this early. It's just that I can't go to work this early - I mean I could - but I suspect I might be there late today, and well, if I get to work at like 7:15 - 7 p.m. seems a long way away. Sometimes coming in early means leaving early, but the partner I work with has been unexpectedly out for about two weeks and he's a come in later and stay later kind of guy - so, sometimes, not always, I stay late.
You know that dread that people talk about having on Sundays about going back to work? I have that - a lot lately. I have it every day, not just Sunday. I'm really not sure what the problem is. This is a new feeling for me (I mean, new since the end of November). It's not something I ever felt before about this job. I always really liked it and looked forward to going to work because my job is enjoyable and the people are great. But even now, even when I know the day will be fine, the work will be interesting, I don't want to go. Work is going really well too - though I actually feel like I've been pretty unmotivated and slacking off since November - it's really going well.
I need to make some decisions about the rest of the year (billable, not calendar year) and I need to maybe think a little bit about the longer term - there are some things I should be doing. Maybe that just scares me - to feel like I'm locking into something. But in some ways I am. I have no intention of leaving - which means I'm on one course and that's to make partner, because well, at some point you either need to leave or make partner. I have mixed feelings about it - I guess because all of the other areas of my life that aren't work related are sort of up in the air. I don't know - but I did talk to the partner about work recently and he said for sure I will make partner - no question - so, that's good I suppose. And on a good note, our raises kicked in January 1.
I've noticed something about me and I've decided to just change it, or feel differently I guess. In some ways I feel bad about my job - to be truthful - bad about the financial aspect of it. I think it stems from feelings of unworthiness and not deserving good things. Every time we get a raise (which has been often since I got there because they keep jacking up associate salaries) I am plagued with fear and feelings of oh no - now I have to work even more - and no, I don't. They aren't asking us to work more, they are just paying us more - they haven't changed anything with respect to our hours. And there is this part of me that feels like I don't deserve it (and I am sure most people don't feel this way), when in fact, I've worked hard for everything I have. I paid for my own education. I've been financially independent since I left my parents house (except for like 3,000 thousand dollars that my dad gave me during undergrad). I've earned it. So why do I continue to feel bad about it? I can't even hardly enjoy it because I feel so conflicted about it. So, I've just decided not to feel bad about it anymore.
Anyway, I'll try to finish one of those other posts later tonight I suppose.
And for those of you wondering - I'm still in a pretty good mood.
Friday, January 04, 2008
Good times
I don't know why, but I am officially in one of the best moods I've been in in a damn long time. I'm just sitting over here in my office, laughing my butt off at what a strange, silly, good mood I'm in. The secretary that sits outside my office thinks I'm a freak - I know he is laughing at me because I am sitting in here laughing at, well, basically nothing - I am probably his daily source of amusement, and the attorney next to me probably thinks I'm mean because I keep closing his office door - but I'm sorry - if you are going to have a conference call on speaker phone and you are a loud talker - close your door. The sun and the ice on the lake are pretty - I wish I had my camera, but at least I have the view from my office. My plant in my office is alive, amazingly. I'll probably have to work this weekend, cause I've uh, done nothing today, but shop for a card, go for coffee with others, chat on IM, uh, blog, freak out unnecessarily which restored my perspective, eat really bad things and consume way too much caffeine. There is no explanation for it - I'm just in a silly good mood. Maybe because it's Friday. Maybe because the sun is out. Maybe because it's warming up. Maybe just because I am alive.
Whenever this happens (and yes it is concerning that me being in a silly good mood is such an identifiable event), I always get a little worried. Inevitably, following one of these episodes, which might last for a few hours, or perhaps a few days if I am lucky, I will crash. It's been a while since I've been in this good of a mood - I've been more down or even lately. The problem is, the happier I get, the farther I have to fall, and there will be a fall. How's that for a cheery and optimistic attitude - I can't even hardly enjoy the silliness because I am anticipating the downfall. And believe me, it isn't a slow descent, it is definitely a crash, and a hard one. I am going to have to check back through the blog for the last time this happened - I'm supposed to be tracking it for a while.
Anyway, in the meantime, I'm just over here in my office laughing.
Whenever this happens (and yes it is concerning that me being in a silly good mood is such an identifiable event), I always get a little worried. Inevitably, following one of these episodes, which might last for a few hours, or perhaps a few days if I am lucky, I will crash. It's been a while since I've been in this good of a mood - I've been more down or even lately. The problem is, the happier I get, the farther I have to fall, and there will be a fall. How's that for a cheery and optimistic attitude - I can't even hardly enjoy the silliness because I am anticipating the downfall. And believe me, it isn't a slow descent, it is definitely a crash, and a hard one. I am going to have to check back through the blog for the last time this happened - I'm supposed to be tracking it for a while.
Anyway, in the meantime, I'm just over here in my office laughing.
Tuesday, January 01, 2008
Happy new year
Happy new year everyone! Last night I did nothing to celebrate - not because I couldn't have, but I just didn't feel like it. I was asked to speak at an AA meeting - so I went and did that, and then came home, put jammies on, ate cereal, watched t.v., and went to bed before midnight. I didn't watch any new year's shows or celebrations - I just don't really care about new year's.
For me, the year started on December 14th anyway - my anniversary. So here's to hoping for an uneventful and healthy year - cause that's all I really want, a peaceful and quiet, and healthy year.
I won't tell you what I did today on this lovely first day of 2008, because it's far too embarrassing. I did manage to put real clothes on and go to the grocery store, and I cleaned the bath tub and worked out for an hour. But I won't tell you what else I did.
For me, the year started on December 14th anyway - my anniversary. So here's to hoping for an uneventful and healthy year - cause that's all I really want, a peaceful and quiet, and healthy year.
I won't tell you what I did today on this lovely first day of 2008, because it's far too embarrassing. I did manage to put real clothes on and go to the grocery store, and I cleaned the bath tub and worked out for an hour. But I won't tell you what else I did.
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