Gaffes and Gratitudes

A lot of stuff I am reading these days centers around cultivating gratitude--actively seeking and recognizing moments and interactions that make the day worth it.  Sometimes, I reeeaaaallly have to dig for the gratitude in my day.  But, I usually find it mixed up with my cynicism, unmet expectations, flakiness and tendency to embarrass easily. 

It's there. 

Under my humanness. 

gaffes

• Deciding to wear a fabric belt from a dress as a bracelet.  A fashion risk everyone should take.  In 1994.
• Conversation with a patient over the phone:

          ME:  Ma'am, am I correct that your first name is spelled Y-V-O-N-N-E?
          Patient: No, it's spelled E-L-O-N, and it's 'mister', actually.

          Smooth.

• Reaching the age where foot powder is necessary.  All the better if it's "cooling and refreshing".
• Watching an interview with Dave Grohl and realizing he and I have pretty much the same hair style.
• Walking Alice in a ratty sweatshirt, funky scarf, sweaty post-run hair, major VPL under my running tights, and a cup--not a travel mug, but the ceramic cup--of coffee.  Serving up some 6am hot realness.
• Whatever I am doing in this photograph.  In bowling shoes, no less.

gratitudes

• D.R. recognizing that a couple hours of organizing and cleaning will set me right again when the world seems to want nothing more than to keep me off kilter.
• A conversation with one of my doctors that was longer than all of our previous conversations combined.  We covered his childhood, how he met his wife, his thoughts on the current state of medicine and World War II.  I'm always honored to hear other people's stories.
• George Jones.  Anytime.  If my toe ain't tappin' to "Honky Tonk Song", then I know I am way too far in my head.
• Taking note from D.R.'s sister who--out of nowhere, and very genuinely--told me I was beautiful.  We need more random and genuine compliments.  They lift so high with such little effort. 
• First day of spring in California.   
• Discovering maple syrup makes a great sweetener for coffee.  Just ask Buddy the Elf.
• Any opportunity to say, "This ain't my first rodeo."

Favorite Thing I Ate This Week

D.R.'s little sister spent a week with us in Los Angeles.  For a final send-off dinner, we took her to one of my favorite neighborhood restaurants, Mexico City.  I once saw most of the cast of Parenthood here, including a very tipsy Peter Krause.  They also make a perfect margarita (generous with the tequila, on the rocks with a lightly salted rim), and bring TWO different salsas with their free homemade tortilla chips.  They also usually have some delectable special that I end up ordering.  The latest special I ordered is called . . .

Umm, Chiles de Neg-something?

Pablano de Neg-thingy?

Wow--please hire me to advertise for your establishment.  Fail!

I know there was a chile involved and there was a "de" in the title.  Does that narrow it down at all? 

Anyway, this is what showed up.

It kinda looks like dessert, doesn't it?  

It's a chile stuffed with beef and pork, mixed with raisins, apples, pears, peaches and cinnamon, as well as garlic and thyme.  They roast that chile with all the goodness inside and then smother it in a walnut cream sauce (who knew walnuts were so creamy?) and sprinkle with walnuts and pomegranate seeds.  It's spicy and fresh, savory and warm, crunchy and juicy all at the same time.  It was a bit baffling for my taste buds, and at some point they gave up trying to make sense of it. 

Here's the strange thing:  I don't think I would ever order this again.  It wasn't bad by any means.  With all those flavors going on, it was quite good.  But I found myself studying it more than I was eating it.  Does that make sense?  It was like watching a really good movie that is so intense and twisty and involved that I'm exhausted afterwards.  A movie that is so good that I will recommend it to everyone I know but probably only see it once--like, The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo.

That's what this dish is.  And I will recommend it to you . . . as soon as I remember what it's called.

I guess you'll just have to come visit.

Thwarted Saturday

Ahhhh, a three day weekend.  Gobs and gobs of time.

Today, D.R. and I planned to take Alice to the dog park, then drive around looking for apartments.   We would run her about and she would fall exhausted, and adorable, on the back seat of the car to sleep away the afternoon.  See how adorable and well-behaved our dog is, Mr. Apartment Manger.  Please give us the apartment with central air and dishwasher.  We will strumpet our dog if it will just bring a GD dishwasher!

D.R. took Alice out front to let her pee, and I headed to the garage loaded down with my purse, water bottles and mail to be sent off . . . and no keys--whoops.  D.R. didn't have any either and our apartment manager wasn't home to let us in.  Can't get into the locked car.  Can't get into our locked apartment.  Nothing to do but walk to the post office then find a place to spend the afternoon.  We ended up here with a carafe of wine and some things to nibble.  OK, maybe there were two carafes of wine.

Tipsy and windblown.

Our apartment manager called about an hour and half later to let us know he was back.  We strolled leisurely back home and made important decisions that can only be made on a day such as this:

1.  While he has shown no desire up until this point, D.R. has until the age of 37 to be a skateboarder.  After that it's lame.

2.  I have to give away the skirt I'm wearing.  "It's very industrial," D.R. says, "and you're not industrial."  I'm going to consider that a compliment.

Thwarted, but certainly not a wasted day.

And Just Like That . . .

The Universe (and Quest Diagnostics) must've known I was on the verge of busting something because it came through for me at 4:50pm yesterday.  I emailed my doctor to request a new order for my repeat blood test.  Her response: 

Just got the result...it's negative!!

WAHOO!

Since I was still at work, unable to contain my excitement, my office mate, Hope (how fitting is that?) was the first to hear the news.  I said, "We're gonna need to hug this out!"  She was more than happy to comply.  She also closed the door on her way out of the office so I could have a moment.  Grateful to her for that.

I put my head on my desk and cried.  I felt a weight lift off me, leaving my shoulders all tingly.

I'm not completely out of the woods yet.  I have to keep watch on my levels for the next year before I am considered in remission.  There will be more needles, more scans, more days of waiting.  But this was a big step, kids.  My TG levels haven't dropped since--well, never.  They've been elevated since after my first surgery in 2011.  This is an indication that I am on the right path in the maze of How To Live With Cancer.  The operative word there is "live".

Initially, I wanted to go out and celebrate with D.R.  I believe my exact words were, "Put your party pants on, Edmonds!"  But, it was also Friday night in Los Angeles and fighting with crowds and drunk girls in 7-inch platforms didn't sound very celebratory.  So, our party pants were replaced by pajama pants and catching up on the DVR.   

We had some wine and apps.

Alice B. requested I share.

So I did.

 Onwards and upwards we go. 

Blood Test

OK, so I'm not doing well with number 3 of the resolutions.  But, I am happy to report that number 6 is coming right along.  Seriously, Frank, where have you been all my life?

In other news, I have been waiting . . . for stupid blood test to tell me whether or not I can resume my life!! 

A month after surgery, blood tests were done to check my levels--thyroglobulin (TG) , thyroid stimulating hormone (TSH) and thyroglobulin (TG) antibodies.  The non-medical, quick and dirty version is, we want these numbers to go down.  If they're going down, that means the cancer is gone and, more importantly, I won't have to do radiation again.  Both my surgeon and endocrinologist are thinking a second round of radiation is not going to be necessary since the first round clearly didn't do what it was supposed to do.  But, they're waiting on the blood tests to inform the final decision.  I gave blood on January 17th and was told it would take 5-6 days for results.  All I had to do was wait 5-6 days for the answer, then we could start making some plans for the  year.  Travel, vacations, moving to a new apartment . . .

It's now been 3 weeks with no definitive answer. 

A few days later, the TSH levels came back a little high.  Easy enough--upped my hormone dosage and went on my merry way. 

The TG levels came back lower than before I went into surgery.  Wahoo!  As long as it's dropping--and stays dropped--I'm good.

Here's the pickle:  the TG antibody can cause falsely low TG.  To be sure the TG really is dropping, they have to test the antibody on its own.  Evidently it's a process that prolongs the results of the test.  So, I've been very patient.

Ho ho HO! . . . have I been patient.

I've sent my doctor breezy, clever emails to check in every week.  No worries.  I'm fine.  By the way, what's up with that cancer thing we were discussing?  I've been running in the morning (number 5, baby!).  I've cleaned my desk.  I've made lemon bars.  Alice has frequented dog parks all over Los Angeles.  We visited the Paramount Ranch.  Busy, busy, busy.

For three weeks, I have kept my crazy under wraps.  This week, my doctor tells me the results still aren't in (something to do with the testing facility), and asked if I'm willing to give another sample if the results aren't in by Friday.

F   U   C   K!

 

Sure, why not?  It's not like I have anything going on.

Would you pass those lemon bars, please?