Taking the plunge!

I finally felt my finances could cope with buying a prosthetic friendly swimming costume, and managed to find a tasteful one in my size. My cunning plan was to spend the money on the costume and then justify the cost by going swimming 2 or 3 times a week. I have been building up to this for some time; in fact it has been 3 weeks since I bought the costume, but today I took the plunge!

For the first time I saw myself in the costume completely (having decided to buy it without trying it on as it was the only one in my size) and immediately saw that my costume is too sexy for me! Where did that funny old body come from?  How tricky is advertising! the models in the catalogue are all double breasted plunging cleavaged beauties. Now I see the pointy bit of skin under my arm (legacy of the surgery) looks like I have a little nipple there. Quick tuck and a shift and its hidden. Also, no cleavage. Actually it has become an abyss.

Oh well, get in and swim. Very nice warm water, and gentle swimming give me a good stretch and good exercise. I think I will get up at 5.30 in the weekday mornings and head for the pool. After 45 minutes I think it is time to get out. The lifeguard has cleaned out the Ladies and the children are busy slurping their slushies, so I tiptoe towel wrapped to get dressed.

I have always struggled to dress myself after a swim. Since primary school when I had to slip my undies on undercover and find three hands to hold the towel, hold my broekies and manoeuvre myself into them, I have never quite managed to emerge from the effort cool, calm and collected. In the toilet of a heated swimming pool, one finds the whole thing even more stressful. The only place to sit that is dry is the toilet, and doing so while wiggling a breast out of a damp costume nearly resulted in a boob on the water coated floor. Then I noticed stuff... is that soggy bits of toilet paper on the floor or something more sinister? Finally it's out and the cozzie is down and I pat the breast gently dry and  sit down to put it into my bra. I get showered with water! Where did that come from? Oh. It's a heated pool so the condensation covers every wall, floor and ceiling! Every few minutes enough collects to become heavy enough to drip! lovely! As I stand to complete the dressing process, I steady myself with my hand on the wall and skid back down to the toilet seat as my hand slips. I start having second thoughts about regular swimming.

Anyone who knows me well is wondering what has come over me to decide on swimming as it has never been my favourite activity. The answer is in the blowing of the wind in Tassie, which when I'm walking gives me painful earache. Therefore during the cold Winter months and the wet, wild and windy Spring, I have ceased to walk for exercise. Fatigue is still a significant factor of my life these days, and I am convinced that exercise helps reduce fatigue, so as I am sick of dragging this tired body around and sick of coping with having a foggy brain, I am determined to move my way out of this sorry state. The pool  is warm, nearby and cheap, and swimming my way is gentle and calming. Therefore swimming it will be, but I will cover up with my daggy trackies and head home for a shower and a comfortable dressing experience.

Monday: Yay! so proud of myself. Up by 5.50am , at the pool by 6.15, swam 10 lengths (25m) slowly and home by 6.50am. Tired but no brain fog! Praise God, I woke up!

Growth

Here at my house, we have had weeks of illness. First the oldest PS had a tooth infection - causing him to miss an exam, which is now scheduled for this coming week. Then the youngest PS came down with a vicious gastroenteritis which, despite our efforts to keep him hydrated, he ended up in hospital for 2 nights and 3 days. He lost 2 k.g. and the paediatrician who saw him was concerned. They checked his records and decided that he has not increased much in weight since his appendectomy and peritonitis in Oct 2010. This resulted in me being questioned by 4 student doctors and the nutritionist, which ultimately annoyed me so much that I said I keep him locked in the cupboard under the stairs, and feed him crusts when he's good!

Needless to say all the questioning upset my boy, who is sensitive about being a "small boy". Just before discharging him,  the paediatrician came to say he will need a full check up and a bone-age test in a few weeks. I reminded my downcast son that had I recently spent a fortune on him because he had outgrown all his clothes and shoes, so he is growing just fine.

He recovered well, and has regained some weight already, but this weekend he has been coughing and has had high fevers. Now the oldest PS is feeling sick too, probably from the same virus. He cannot miss the exam this time!

With all this sickness and talk about growth, I remembered a poem I first wrote when I was 17.


 Growing Things:

God is in the growing things
that creep through cracks and crumbling paths,
to find the shaft of light between
the monoliths of shade.

God is in the struggling things
that strive to find the faintest light,
and overcome the rocks and stones with
perseverance, which is power.

The spreading root can anchor,
the frail stem gets through.
Peace is in the flower
God is guiding you.

Dolphins on my Doorstep

I personally have never seen them, but some of my friends have. I live where the mighty Derwent seeps almost unnoticed into the sea, becoming one with the Southern Ocean with only a small lighthouse on a rocky outcrop to mark the change. When we look out from our porch, or walk along the beach, the waves make us think it is the sea, so we hardly ever think of it as a river, and no doubt the fish and other sea creatures don't make the distinction either. That's how I know there are dolphins in our beautiful bay. I believe the eyewitness accounts, but it makes sense that the dolphins wouldn't make a U-turn at the light house, and head back out into colder waters when they could have a holiday and frolic in our bay. It makes me happy to think of the dolphins, and the other wonderful unseen gifts in creation.

Until it happened to me, I didn't know you could feel happy and depressed  at the same time - but there that's clinical depression for you. It is definitely a physical illness that effects your emotions, and physical ability to function. Sometimes the treatment is worse than the condition, as my first medication proved. The tablets increasingly sedated me until I could barely think to remember my name. When my doctor said he was going to change my medication to "Prestik" I thought, oh good , he realises that I'm coming apart and need to be stuck back together (In South Africa, Prestik is a brand name for glue and BlueTac). Actually, the medication is Pristiq and is a different type of antidepressant. After a month I feel almost back to my pre-cancer self! It's amazing. I'm getting up in the morning, thinking more clearly and am far less fatigued - I can do my housework in one day now!

I have also had my second 3 monthly breast check up and everything is clear. Yes, I have many cysts but nothing suspicious is lurking. Sometimes we cannot see something, but we know it is there - like God, and the dolphins on my doorstep; but no cancer can be seen or felt at the moment, so I believe it is not there, and I am now enjoying getting stronger.

(Photo courtesy of Magda Mandecka Louw (who saw the dolphins on the ocean side of our bay.)

Inspiring

http://abcnews.go.com/Nightline/video/rainbow--10170062

Landslide

...Can the child within my heart rise above?
Can I sail though the changing ocean tides?
Can I handle the seasons of my life?
...time makes you bolder
Children get older
I'm getting older too" 
Landslide Fleetwood Mac

I have started writing this a number of times, only to put it aside, but a conversation with my youngest PS last night has spurred me to carry on. He has been having some spontaneous tearful episodes and anger outbursts - meltdowns - some may call them. One of his worries it turns out is that he misses my long hair, and with my grey  curly hair I don't look like Mom anymore. "Who are you?" he joked "and what have you done with my mother?"  He goes further: "you're not as nice as you used to be."

Back track a few weeks, post my mammogram: I decide to contact the Breast Nurse." Is it flotsam or jetsam?"  I asked in reference to the new cyst and the debris found within it. "should I have it drained, or will it drift off on it's own?" It will probably drift off on it's own, but you sound very flat - is everything OK? " Well I've been very tearful, and having wild mood swings.... I read that depression is a side effect of Arimidex... "I think you should see someone and soon, it has been a year and this is quite common after what you've been through."

So I make an appointment with the Kind Doctor who says that yes I seem to be depressed, which is not surprising really with the insult to my brain. Aside from the Arimidex, the brain surgery probably shocked my brain out of whack with regards to serotonin production. I am put on a low dose of a common antidepressant, and it's now 2 weeks hence.

On the good side I am no longer tearful or swinging moodily. DH says I am more ":with it" and I've noticed that my hot flushes have decreased in number and intensity and I have more stamina. Also I seem to be catching up on 21 years of sleep deprivation, and very unlike me, I find it hard to wake up in the morning! Typical of me though, I have a rare side effect of teeth clenching, which I only notice as my jaw starts to ache.... The KD instructs me to continue with the medication for 2 more weeks, and experiment with the time I take it. If things worsen or don't improve, he will consider another form of treatment.

My youngest PS is also upset because he has noticed that other people have "better lives" than we do -better holidays, better houses, better toys and more fun. We 'never do anything' and we 'have no money'. I realise that sometimes we are too careful., and I wonder why our celebration some weeks ago where we went out for pizza together and celebrated that DH was asked to stay on at work another month has been forgotten.  We had a great time that evening, laughing and sharing together! Some effort and counselling will need to be done with my little boy who is usually so sparky and lively!

I am reminded of Psalm 73
....But as for me, my feet were almost gone; my steps had well nigh slipped.
.....Thus my heart was grieved, and I was pricked in my reins. So foolish was I, and ignorant: I was as a beast before thee. Nevertheless I am continually with thee: thou hast holden me by my right hand.
....But it is good for me to draw near to God: I have put my trust in the Lord GOD, that I may declare all thy works.

and once again, hand in hand with God, I must go forward on a rocky path, but I know the landslide won't take us down, because:

Romans :5 3-4

³And not only so, but we glory in tribulations also: knowing that tribulation worketh patience;

 ⁴And patience, experience; and experience, hope:

Contrasts

My first annual mammogram took me back to the Top Top Radiologist. Note the contrasts:

Once again I was photographed by the enormous breast clamp. The radiology nurse said breast pain reduces as you age. "How much older do I have to get exactly?" She didn't know but was quite amused. I snapped the photo while she took my pictures to the TTR for her expert opinion.

10 minutes later back she came. "We have to do an ultrasound."  Meek as a lamb I tripped along after her with my coat on , like a secret flasher.

More contrasts.

This is what I could see supine on the bed, as my right breast was painfully examined with the ultrasound device.  On screen the tissue looked greyish, and the cysts were revealed as contrasting black holes. 

The nurse kept apologising as I kept wincing with the pain. I've become a real wuss and I think my constant low level pain makes me more wussy when I experience any additional pain.

"Ooh that doesn't look too good" I say when I see a mucky looking cyst. (I can cast an opinion now that I'm an expert on breast ultrasounds.) So I wasn't surprised when 15 mins later the TTR came in to talk to me. All my old cysts are there, but smaller, she says. She restarts the ultrasound, and goes over the mucky cyst.

 "I'm a little concerned, but it does look like debris, which you're allowed to have. I'll send  the pics and report to the Breast Surgeon Supreme, and he may decide it needs to be drained. But I think it's Ok really."

It's never black and white is it?

Dear Me

"... And you don't know where you stand, and did something pass you by? And if you are dismissed, will you get another try?"  (Obsolete. Sara Groves)

After having my check up with the breast surgeon, I'm now coming up for my next mammogram. I'm not looking forward to it, and I wish they would just do an ultrasound, after all if there is anything suspicious and sinister in my left breast they will do an ultrasound, so why not just skip the boob eating monster and let me have the more gentle sonic device?

And yes, I know it is my right breast... but I seemed to have formed the habit of referring to it as my left breast because I mean the "left behind breast". Right breast now seems to mean there was a 'right' one and a 'wrong' one. Of course, this is all said in my head. I don't talk to people about my breasts, passed  (sic) or present, as really they're not interested, and rightly so. The prosthetic one does a good job of helping me front up to the world and capriciously weathered Hobart is scarf friendly, so cover up of imbalance is easy. It's really when cuddles are needed that the difference is noted.

Today the youngest PS was in heartbroken tears, having failed his sailing class. He has so enjoyed this sport, but they say he doesn't concentrate hard enough, or try consistently, so he can't move on to the next level with all his friends. Try again in a year they said.  We sobbed together in the recliner, me as at other times, shifting the cuddle position because the prosthetic breast feels wrong, and a barrier somehow. "Why are you crying Mom?"

"Because you are" I say conveniently, but really I'm crying because:

• he's hurt and I can't make it better immediately
• failure is a part of life (despite what all the facebook and other mothers will have you believe about their incredibly gifted, always successful children)
• I want him to try again next season and face up to his peers  moving on, and possibly teasing him about failing
• because he has been left behind and they will tease him and we have to equip him with strength, maturity and resilience so he can cope with it all
• I feel like a failure myself as a mother - after all my kids don't win the art prize, or get into the sports teams, (dropping the ball, and  kicking an own goal make up the list of PS's sporting achievements) or win scholarships, or school prizes; or get invited to a birthday party nearly every weekend, or even get invited for a playdate ( we do  nearly all the inviting) nor do they have any particular specialness that would provide an acceptable reason for these things
• half of my chest is flat and my DH doesn't care - yes that's nice but I wish he was at least a little bit upset and disappointed
• I want to have a few days away just me and DH, but we can't afford it and anyway, DH prefers to stay home

Dear me! the side effects of the hormonal treatment are really effective. Along with the common ones of joint pain, bone pain, breast pain, insomnia and constipation; depression is settling in like October rain in Durban. The package says to consult the doctor if depression appears. Hmm. that will have to wait.

There are other reasons for tears:

• my uncle died of lung cancer this week. He was diagnosed just before me, and our treatments overlapped, although continents apart. We will all miss that good, cheerful, simple hearted man who knew about taking pleasure in the small daily things of life.
• a respected and liked ex colleague has found new cancer in her hip and possibly liver.
• so many people are struggling financially, and with disability, extreme anxiety and even psychosis in their children; and I'm not able to help at all.
• the list could go on and on, and persist

I need to do this:

lay down my arms, give up the fight; quiet my heart for a little while. Be still and know that He is God.