tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-42446455628516867862024-03-13T01:21:13.587-07:00KATCapersLiving Life With Three Daughters (the KAT's).
Navigating Parenting Sea with no life raft and dodgy sea legs!Libbyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05422169384250471413noreply@blogger.comBlogger167125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4244645562851686786.post-31973434689645397812014-10-18T04:52:00.001-07:002014-10-18T04:52:03.268-07:00Playing with Ply<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEia6ij-W6-8MJ1oW5Wce3HwHAK5UfUB2ChOfks3OaW57zp8y2Xosnc1Rd5OIIcR7XaLFQZTrFNB7lxJjX86axjZm-F0qnIT7X81zFtCYzKWt9XSxm4DjK2fB_IfmUErQ2uNnORsBV7SIlxB/s640/blogger-image--1375678109.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEia6ij-W6-8MJ1oW5Wce3HwHAK5UfUB2ChOfks3OaW57zp8y2Xosnc1Rd5OIIcR7XaLFQZTrFNB7lxJjX86axjZm-F0qnIT7X81zFtCYzKWt9XSxm4DjK2fB_IfmUErQ2uNnORsBV7SIlxB/s640/blogger-image--1375678109.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">As my health slowly improves I'm starting to focus on getting back to work.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguZhdM3uMRFYoA0C49s2w4Vi5-1AMmjhHnoJ0DfW9jFwxM9ccWLrq-ozAXhnArojSNzx0uuGhllyKdhbU2nEegKoKCIqljxssETlWXIlCIk86CFzRssFxBJifF4r8T4xUhlCUzfSne9tqI/s640/blogger-image--405266849.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguZhdM3uMRFYoA0C49s2w4Vi5-1AMmjhHnoJ0DfW9jFwxM9ccWLrq-ozAXhnArojSNzx0uuGhllyKdhbU2nEegKoKCIqljxssETlWXIlCIk86CFzRssFxBJifF4r8T4xUhlCUzfSne9tqI/s640/blogger-image--405266849.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">I've got two clients on retainer so had to sort out a workspace to give me a place that I could "apply" myself. The kitchen desk wasn't cutting it for many reasons, not the least of which was the view of said kitchen which distracted me when it wasn't tidy!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLfyw7wYDygdIgd_X9yXK_wEJIp0OU7AWLyQ-Ut5qBCaeMtV-Sz2WaXN7TLZ8Qc4QdThvQBzWi09Tl1It68OhRM4vVaozBZs285QFPYWoRu98KGKBTbGiTVgeX4uI3DCwI72z8N0Ofy35h/s640/blogger-image--690680353.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLfyw7wYDygdIgd_X9yXK_wEJIp0OU7AWLyQ-Ut5qBCaeMtV-Sz2WaXN7TLZ8Qc4QdThvQBzWi09Tl1It68OhRM4vVaozBZs285QFPYWoRu98KGKBTbGiTVgeX4uI3DCwI72z8N0Ofy35h/s640/blogger-image--690680353.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Unfortunately our house lacks a spare room so it was time for some creative reworking of existing real estate. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Basically I've commandeered a corner of the Mancave!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVFzR3nmbIU-Flll-s7Q2vidag5xYBV6DaSwvIdsfGr6-eI-i78-AQYfuUkchjq3H6CPtdvk6F6YodD_qA7agGZXhmaWaZ11OiPyolL99jMxjzaakA0sULfiJqQefkKbNpfVxSFoibvzDf/s640/blogger-image-39599205.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVFzR3nmbIU-Flll-s7Q2vidag5xYBV6DaSwvIdsfGr6-eI-i78-AQYfuUkchjq3H6CPtdvk6F6YodD_qA7agGZXhmaWaZ11OiPyolL99jMxjzaakA0sULfiJqQefkKbNpfVxSFoibvzDf/s640/blogger-image-39599205.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">See those sliding doors? A trip to Bunnings later the fixed panel is now covered by a plywood panel fixed with clips (so it can be removed easily) and the desk is sitting nicely facing out so I have a view of the garden when I'm working.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKtBzTdZuUC7oq4n_-bGbXxO4db0t320yDDQ-VJJttdiXLR2gdZlLR8bSYEk6SZK1K9Tp_H9wMMBi59QCTKkq-PCfQgnCGiIXTbjsM7Ex2lh8dhrdodjRphxk6PidXLAcSlJkkXyGbk3V8/s640/blogger-image--1675377956.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKtBzTdZuUC7oq4n_-bGbXxO4db0t320yDDQ-VJJttdiXLR2gdZlLR8bSYEk6SZK1K9Tp_H9wMMBi59QCTKkq-PCfQgnCGiIXTbjsM7Ex2lh8dhrdodjRphxk6PidXLAcSlJkkXyGbk3V8/s640/blogger-image--1675377956.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Why am I in the corner? Partly because of this couch....it's a monster and partly because the rest of the shed needs to at least appear to remain the Mancave!!!!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">I love my new space and am definitely working more productively in it. I haven't painted the ply...I'm loving it in its natural form. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">As Sprummer progresses (this is what I call Spring in Sydney - more like early Summer) I'm hoping to relax on the Muskoka chairs a bit as well!</div><br></div><br></div></div><br></div>Libbyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05422169384250471413noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4244645562851686786.post-24730824420067867362014-10-01T03:35:00.001-07:002014-10-01T03:35:19.948-07:00Wishes and DishesSo the school holidays are almost done. As opposed to last holidays these ones were a festival of restraint. No driving holidays to Victoria, no grand ambitions just softly, softly lest I undo all the good work I've done in the last couple of months to be in a better place physically (and psychologically).<div><br></div><div>Months ago I organized a spot at pony camp for Middle KAT. Every young girls dream - a residential camp for five nights! It will do nothing to dispel her ambitions of owning her own piece of horse flesh but we can handle that!</div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYct0FKOo75O6EB3lV7CxDQWBF62LSORW2DUAfa7fdYRCgs8KV436xtRgKOoxBnIx74x1H1JGgqM2E_kl8JtPErfc0sf9WKcF2wyoXOXEmE10eiUNZx_7LJr8NzzGxX8XO4Dxl0dPNbdBK/s640/blogger-image-1172320233.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYct0FKOo75O6EB3lV7CxDQWBF62LSORW2DUAfa7fdYRCgs8KV436xtRgKOoxBnIx74x1H1JGgqM2E_kl8JtPErfc0sf9WKcF2wyoXOXEmE10eiUNZx_7LJr8NzzGxX8XO4Dxl0dPNbdBK/s640/blogger-image-1172320233.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Pony camp wouldn't be right without a matching polo shirt:)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">For the rest of us it's been time at home. Oldest KAT has had a few catch ups with friends (we aren't allowed to call them play dates). Youngest KAT has had a friend staying. A boy no less! They are so lovely together, not a cross word between them!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Tonight I cooked up the best roast clucker!! It was a veritable feast of lemon and thyme stuffed chook with my famous gravy and roast potatoes. I'm a legend in my own Scanpan!!!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Ah school holidays, who said you have to be stressful!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBgtWlm6C5TGYEXX8gPWI9uzy-vsPelURi07DCMjxNg-GD3n1yCTsgF0asghxT5yvEno096-k6FD_QXhjRyJIQSo1CqDcJw6REvWBSPp1gwsVkDu3OvOjrfItVq9wuGpsTgH94xlNKfgWv/s640/blogger-image-1570464746.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBgtWlm6C5TGYEXX8gPWI9uzy-vsPelURi07DCMjxNg-GD3n1yCTsgF0asghxT5yvEno096-k6FD_QXhjRyJIQSo1CqDcJw6REvWBSPp1gwsVkDu3OvOjrfItVq9wuGpsTgH94xlNKfgWv/s640/blogger-image-1570464746.jpg"></a></div><br></div><br></div>Libbyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05422169384250471413noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4244645562851686786.post-58898891962277356372014-08-24T05:10:00.001-07:002014-08-24T05:10:40.667-07:00Under the Sea<div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj71ZVC1xVL9KmXcEtoDRNxqQ06AZykL5YLBh6yCEEGZqsseG_cBTCN5ZKqoEuYOCTait53fEIn3XZE5UUB0xlSgLj47gU4foCI6mMDMHvHBBbEWqGp9KqdVdl081XNaGs9wfFb8pxHPIMw/s640/blogger-image--1447006336.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj71ZVC1xVL9KmXcEtoDRNxqQ06AZykL5YLBh6yCEEGZqsseG_cBTCN5ZKqoEuYOCTait53fEIn3XZE5UUB0xlSgLj47gU4foCI6mMDMHvHBBbEWqGp9KqdVdl081XNaGs9wfFb8pxHPIMw/s640/blogger-image--1447006336.jpg"></a></div><br></div>August is a busy month for birthdays in our house. Oldest and Youngest KAT get to enjoy special days this month.<div><br></div><div>In the case of Youngest KAT it was party central a couple of weeks back. Because I could run classes in the art of "keeping up appearances" and at that point wasn't complying with the instructions to take it easy I decided that it would be a good idea (even a sane idea) to a craft <span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">party at our place for fifteen 7yr olds!</span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br></span></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif">Here are some shots of the decorations. Suffice to say it was a great success but probably contributed to my less than stellar mental state post-party!! It's all good though...completely worth it to see our little girl enjoy herself so.</font></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif"><br></font></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif">Craft activity #1 was to make a fish using paper plates, colored tissue paper, washi tape and the essential googly eyes. </font></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif"><br></font></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhf9zp1UGZzlQqmOQFdScFLHqIUPMbmdJpYyNdnFjMr3N_10ki6sWEgk19dgG3vtpObn-8wXnZB4aT4zD9pDSFYyI2f8EIGFFpIIAUIOWnRUQM9Ew29-ztUOUOycyZdJ_0QGwqUvzd8ZxsZ/s640/blogger-image--1446876098.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhf9zp1UGZzlQqmOQFdScFLHqIUPMbmdJpYyNdnFjMr3N_10ki6sWEgk19dgG3vtpObn-8wXnZB4aT4zD9pDSFYyI2f8EIGFFpIIAUIOWnRUQM9Ew29-ztUOUOycyZdJ_0QGwqUvzd8ZxsZ/s640/blogger-image--1446876098.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">After a break for party food we had a go at Craft activity #2....my version of Jellfish! </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">I had pre-painted the paper bowls and pre-sewn crepe paper tentacles. Can I just say how my life is truly complete having stumbled across the under-appreciated art of the ruffled crepe paper effect? It is deceptively simple but highly effective - straight stitch on the sewing machine with a little bit of pressure applied to the thread as it comes off the feeder thingy...voila you have instant ruffles! I sewed two strips of crepe paper together and we had more ruffles than Strictly Ballroom!!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcP9ZFpviHnsAZ5vBaBkmV9RRyxH6vzoxqlAveVhQAMPZ1_69sgYs0rz0fFoE4KOTVq215RqMjVsWRooFepGPy_daofr9uBRXFK1FXk-c7cYTL9Cc6S96RboCKly45pRwcVpSzBkDU1Dl3/s640/blogger-image--973601608.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcP9ZFpviHnsAZ5vBaBkmV9RRyxH6vzoxqlAveVhQAMPZ1_69sgYs0rz0fFoE4KOTVq215RqMjVsWRooFepGPy_daofr9uBRXFK1FXk-c7cYTL9Cc6S96RboCKly45pRwcVpSzBkDU1Dl3/s640/blogger-image--973601608.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">The table backdrop was a feast of mummy creativity. Thank goodness I am versatility personified in the range of glue dots and double sided tape I possess!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Spotlight was extremely forthcoming in the sparkly fabric department which was used for tablecloths and a photo backdrop. It has now been put to use as a princess outfit for the birthday girl...my sewing is nothing to write home about but I'm good at improvising...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnXaP6JR-wvrAyYrWFjbHrkey322mZhx0XBznK2c6jIhDpxMLIClmKkMr2F2nSB-lM9-IxiRe7DnXwfcx9nG2mt6edcsJjdhphoVwg82alBI5A9MRdnArCzE0McB33lOmw3ncv4F31Fd3H/s640/blogger-image--1840344059.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnXaP6JR-wvrAyYrWFjbHrkey322mZhx0XBznK2c6jIhDpxMLIClmKkMr2F2nSB-lM9-IxiRe7DnXwfcx9nG2mt6edcsJjdhphoVwg82alBI5A9MRdnArCzE0McB33lOmw3ncv4F31Fd3H/s640/blogger-image--1840344059.jpg"></a><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnXaP6JR-wvrAyYrWFjbHrkey322mZhx0XBznK2c6jIhDpxMLIClmKkMr2F2nSB-lM9-IxiRe7DnXwfcx9nG2mt6edcsJjdhphoVwg82alBI5A9MRdnArCzE0McB33lOmw3ncv4F31Fd3H/s640/blogger-image--1840344059.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQsScZqMdpYhcBybeNL3SKbpvnrRRcwdwB2r12Wib1n2qbfXmwGmBpjeZksA-5M65vcL6gdW0emIWVj9_T8VYqE2eLWyyNDjEquSxH81yI1hM4NTlNok7LIa0m0B5z9dgm5FUdYu_JaGVk/s640/blogger-image--1651594647.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQsScZqMdpYhcBybeNL3SKbpvnrRRcwdwB2r12Wib1n2qbfXmwGmBpjeZksA-5M65vcL6gdW0emIWVj9_T8VYqE2eLWyyNDjEquSxH81yI1hM4NTlNok7LIa0m0B5z9dgm5FUdYu_JaGVk/s640/blogger-image--1651594647.jpg"></a></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><font color="#ff0000"><u><br></u></font></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">I must say, the jellyfish were my fave party decor addition. Miss 7 had a blast and I have survived to party-plan another day:)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div></div><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><br></font></div>Libbyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05422169384250471413noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4244645562851686786.post-62334257259132661892014-08-18T04:40:00.001-07:002014-08-18T04:41:52.797-07:00This too shall pass<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
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We are back to normal transmission.</div>
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Last week was crammed with more doctors than the complimentary bar at a pharmaceutical conference! With my oncologist's support I am giving Tamoxifen a rest. It may not be the culprit but it is definitely a contributing factor to my low mood.</div>
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I'm backing away from business commitments that I've rushed into before I'm healthy enough to handle the toll work takes. I'm trying to be kind to myself and not let guilt weigh me down.</div>
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Yesterday (Sunday) Youngest KAT and I made a special trip to the Mall to buy some touchstones. She chose one for each of us and a bag to put them in. They will go with her to school and be there when she's feeling sad. They will remind her that I'm always with her. Thank you to my gorgeous friend Kate for suggesting this. The idea was a winner and lit up both our eyes! </div>
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I love my family more than words can say. Words cannot describe how I want to walk the same path as them. I want to see them laugh and cry, run and stumble along life's path. I described it as a parallel path but I've realized that we are on the same path, it's just a bit rocky right now.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQ6S8jhDALDTMkM_dloAbE3bDK7kdLHHeLKbVTlfMiY1BRjMPu21BmX8MLK36DFzDoVF9S8d6txyrElX7-V43y9WQCT0Kv8JordBOmLYOxDRBB8oHVi27JfwgOcyZEpKqY8Cz8g3-dvBcV/s640/blogger-image--571302447.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQ6S8jhDALDTMkM_dloAbE3bDK7kdLHHeLKbVTlfMiY1BRjMPu21BmX8MLK36DFzDoVF9S8d6txyrElX7-V43y9WQCT0Kv8JordBOmLYOxDRBB8oHVi27JfwgOcyZEpKqY8Cz8g3-dvBcV/s640/blogger-image--571302447.jpg" /></a></div>
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Seeing my KATs emerging into the young women they are destined to be is why I endured my awful treatment. Because I love them and I want to be around. More than anything. A bit of life ache isn't going to stand in my way.</div>
<br />Libbyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05422169384250471413noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4244645562851686786.post-45234079307122217822014-06-03T04:47:00.001-07:002014-06-03T04:47:24.468-07:00Being 'happy forever'<div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">With each passing day I'm getting back on my feet. It's a slow process and at times frustrating. Poor Saint Mike knows when I'm really pushing myself too hard as I invariably end up snapping at him. That Sainthood is really knocking hard on his door!</span></div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhN8Q_7I3XLZfOs15Ubv7kHcLMF9IXY7LpwIX7mtghQeIIHgVjMNr4sxJ5kkpGrLjafim2iUALt83Y_GqqjVdRREOXrRq3OisBcJMjHrJ2eiQCVUsANFIy8JP7cOWkO3hJY89b9X7tyXD-h/s640/blogger-image--1800065190.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhN8Q_7I3XLZfOs15Ubv7kHcLMF9IXY7LpwIX7mtghQeIIHgVjMNr4sxJ5kkpGrLjafim2iUALt83Y_GqqjVdRREOXrRq3OisBcJMjHrJ2eiQCVUsANFIy8JP7cOWkO3hJY89b9X7tyXD-h/s640/blogger-image--1800065190.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">I'm at my happiest when I get my creative on. This weekend I was executing the event styling for a 40th birthday for a very dear friend. It was just what I needed.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8ptnUg9USJElmodxAsEsdWLu7dA1ojirTpQ84KA2fv92_1GK94HAsV1rlTm1J2d4wi7ZEJy92J0JlcnEKpMeT3XkafCryO4ahEGmaWR8ZS-yEb-fIrPLOOVKduViNkZWfxtRQQ9otjjgs/s640/blogger-image-115138397.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8ptnUg9USJElmodxAsEsdWLu7dA1ojirTpQ84KA2fv92_1GK94HAsV1rlTm1J2d4wi7ZEJy92J0JlcnEKpMeT3XkafCryO4ahEGmaWR8ZS-yEb-fIrPLOOVKduViNkZWfxtRQQ9otjjgs/s640/blogger-image-115138397.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">We had agreed on a similar scheme to the natural textures used at a few other events I've styled but because it was for my friend we also needed some femininity thrown in so we went with gold and I incorporated some foliage to up the ante.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb2aMb69QseTlsFL6O5RU2GBt1vnUHIYK-9k4ObeDMN-VlvHJqhzqXsEjnRwzex1Xh8OQJKlx6N-J81StWqKmwXIZivsIkFuXqbTM9H9Dn8T2BdnMTveF6dNOHPnE-CZh28Gjyh_1XPrqw/s640/blogger-image-1703700865.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb2aMb69QseTlsFL6O5RU2GBt1vnUHIYK-9k4ObeDMN-VlvHJqhzqXsEjnRwzex1Xh8OQJKlx6N-J81StWqKmwXIZivsIkFuXqbTM9H9Dn8T2BdnMTveF6dNOHPnE-CZh28Gjyh_1XPrqw/s640/blogger-image-1703700865.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">I re used the cloths I made early in the year for a school function but the table needed something else so I went with a DIY doily table runner. A couple of trips to the local charity stores and I had the makings of a perfectly proportioned runner made up of assorted doilies to lay across the tables.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5qJBzK6MCFEvlmeewkZkr-Mbfc_17FC6VB9OqYFN8HaocPuUWTc6W9LxM1sqvVqynyQ2vZ04iTbeG_IOGk9tsMR1yL0U4pXAEnffAqLAZCfLXEcQnXOknxwqCrhmB-h972SQN_cCyS4U6/s640/blogger-image--607697196.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5qJBzK6MCFEvlmeewkZkr-Mbfc_17FC6VB9OqYFN8HaocPuUWTc6W9LxM1sqvVqynyQ2vZ04iTbeG_IOGk9tsMR1yL0U4pXAEnffAqLAZCfLXEcQnXOknxwqCrhmB-h972SQN_cCyS4U6/s640/blogger-image--607697196.jpg"></a></div></div><br></div><div>I decorated the room with my rustic bunting and upped the bling factor by making a garland with some cardboard and bronze/gold adhesive paper cut into disks and then sewn into a garland...so easy it's ridiculous! Looked really effective.</div><div><br></div><div>The girls had their fill of Heinz Baby puréed apple so I could use the jars as votive holders - gold washi tape and some sweet lace ribbon was all it took to make them shine.</div><div><br></div><div>It took a huge effort to set it up but I loved every moment and was thrilled that my gorgeous friend was able to see her space transformed into a magical dining room for her to enjoy her night.</div><div><br></div><div>Now if only I could manage to do event styling and get paid to do it I would "be happy forever" (fave expression used by the KATs).</div><div><br></div><div><br></div>Libbyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05422169384250471413noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4244645562851686786.post-46390998875599257142014-05-29T16:28:00.001-07:002014-05-29T16:28:29.387-07:00Finding the Phenomenal Woman InsideI caught up with a lovely friend this week. She is an amazing woman. We met when I embarked on my first foray into Ocean Swimming with CanToo.<div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigU8R7p9gcTInYa_11ZtVrhbsW4nuCGAjuf8Kz7v7mRRPrD2msPoXyk24_hGrJiLr3QWpJ9yiPWMSjhQaV5MuM0XshWcn6GrD1xYYtCQivCPbQMxXiDGnhLMpSANqkeliYLsmQoGtPYVtF/s640/blogger-image-1185060513.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigU8R7p9gcTInYa_11ZtVrhbsW4nuCGAjuf8Kz7v7mRRPrD2msPoXyk24_hGrJiLr3QWpJ9yiPWMSjhQaV5MuM0XshWcn6GrD1xYYtCQivCPbQMxXiDGnhLMpSANqkeliYLsmQoGtPYVtF/s640/blogger-image-1185060513.jpg"></a></div><br><div><br></div><div>I struggled terribly with the dreaded Imposter Syndrome and although unaware of this she buoyed my confidence that year simply by being her lovely self - warm, encouraging and inclusive. She swam beside me and although I know she thought it was me helping her, it was really the other way round!</div><div><br></div><div>The following year I returned despite knowing that I was carrying even more weight both physically and psychologically than my first year. I shouldn't have put myself through the program. It wasn't being kind to myself. It was certainly not the confidence building experience of the first time. I stumbled towards the goal swim isolated from my team and although I raised my required funds, I chose to swim on my own the day of the Cole because I was so ashamed at my perceived failure.</div><div><br></div><div>As I stood alone in the crowd of people milling around awaiting our "wave", Lizzie stumbled upon me. We agreed to swim together. I knew that this meant Lizzie would not swim to her own pace. I knew she was forsaking a better time to stay with me. I will always be grateful for her compassion and kindness.</div><div><br></div><div>The day after we caught up she sent me the shots from the swim photographer. They transported me. How lost I felt. How much I was struggling. How much has happened since.</div><div><br></div><div>I'm not this person anymore. I'm different in so many ways. But I still have my friendship with this special person.</div><div><br></div><div>I am so fortunate to have people like Lizzie in my life.</div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><br><div><br></div><div><br></div></div></div>Libbyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05422169384250471413noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4244645562851686786.post-15148001328847229722014-05-19T05:39:00.000-07:002014-05-19T05:39:35.705-07:00I'm still here!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6zR8ruxanXbzM14kqqTPI9qz509Oucw3QpVlfY2DpzDx7g3NPgHH8tkLgp9OSbtn6Ra-iOOLHL8O5sJ4e6DwKFze2oIRvYFs8D8qKVe6tOuEcpHitkBP1BHyTRfDuPFHLq8uhmDv-DLz0/s1600/2014-04-26+21.09.54-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6zR8ruxanXbzM14kqqTPI9qz509Oucw3QpVlfY2DpzDx7g3NPgHH8tkLgp9OSbtn6Ra-iOOLHL8O5sJ4e6DwKFze2oIRvYFs8D8qKVe6tOuEcpHitkBP1BHyTRfDuPFHLq8uhmDv-DLz0/s1600/2014-04-26+21.09.54-1.jpg" height="426" width="640" /></a></div>
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I know I've been MIA! Sorry. Sorry. Sorry!</div>
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My mother pointed out to me this week that I haven't updated my blog of late. No excuse really. Just simply a feeling that I can't quite overcome that anything I say here is a bit redundant.</div>
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It's hard to explain but it's got something to do with a pervasive feeling that I've got nothing much left to say here....I'm alive. I'm on the road to recovery. I don't feel great but I don't want to be a whiner!!</div>
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Emerging from the other side of my treatment has been and continues to be a challenge. The world and my place in it is different. I just haven't worked out how to work with that "different".</div>
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I'm feeling much healthier. My wounds are healing - the physical and the mental ones. My KAT's are also recovering. Less fragile and more secure. Saint Mike is also starting to relax! </div>
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I smile broadly and my smile is genuine. I am happy to be alive.</div>
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If I'm absent for a while longer forgive me. If you aren't related to me and still check in here I thank you for your interest! </div>
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<br />Libbyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05422169384250471413noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4244645562851686786.post-81870522610358100202014-04-01T12:15:00.000-07:002014-04-01T12:15:12.639-07:00The swing of things<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtIC1BuA8pl_Evt0scjhniHwWP4l24sFYYplXVr_BPFg57dl3oaozmJ5Quh1XgTgXK47ZHbSS_hLxbdEyc7h8sjQ4d5q4rklYm15XE-wDhZFfI3XF_b0E-XKeRcgS1LJAngaSrMTcg7J3b/s1600/Portulaca+PM.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtIC1BuA8pl_Evt0scjhniHwWP4l24sFYYplXVr_BPFg57dl3oaozmJ5Quh1XgTgXK47ZHbSS_hLxbdEyc7h8sjQ4d5q4rklYm15XE-wDhZFfI3XF_b0E-XKeRcgS1LJAngaSrMTcg7J3b/s1600/Portulaca+PM.jpg" height="640" width="492" /></a></div>
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I'm five weeks post-surgery today. This is a good thing as Oprah would say.<br />
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My recovery is coming along swimmingly. I seem to be text-book compliant in terms of my physical state. Pain reducing but not altogether fantastic. I keep it at bay during daylight hours using Panadol Osteo but as the afternoon progresses it all seems to catch up on me and I'm scoffing codeine before bed to ensure my sleep is undisturbed. <br />
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To distract myself I've been undertaking some "recovery-friendly" creative pursuits. My little Portulaca friend is an example of the sort of gardening I can manage.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLScXF6SUYYQiZmTH8ZmsXxr368iIRdMHXdMdpx-7XPuBYx4y-YEGhoVAg-RaUqfvc7GWlsURm9iIuSboj2tMQdhaXd3h795YM3JGglhs0APqUFU9woFRTP1hhktSplUFnKkE9uooJo-XQ/s1600/Jasmine+vine+ball+PM.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLScXF6SUYYQiZmTH8ZmsXxr368iIRdMHXdMdpx-7XPuBYx4y-YEGhoVAg-RaUqfvc7GWlsURm9iIuSboj2tMQdhaXd3h795YM3JGglhs0APqUFU9woFRTP1hhktSplUFnKkE9uooJo-XQ/s1600/Jasmine+vine+ball+PM.jpg" height="446" width="640" /></a></div>
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This little beauty was inspired by something on Pinterest where they utilised Grape Vines....not living in or near a vineyard meant I resorted to stripping some vines off our Star Jasmine outside the back door....a ball I found in the garden was used as my base and whilst watching a bit of trashy "Real Housewives of Melbourne" (God save me now) I wound and tied and wound and tied until I had this rustic work of art! I've attached a string of solar powered fairy lights but I'm not loving the effect....stay tuned, I have my thinking cap on and it will be finessed!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEim7loJX3ml9J5R8gSH-YPv04kQgBU6o2R1jnwQFDpVi-J-oDZ7QwhYcCp7alpvDC_LjQwsrKymY0wKB0RInKpTuW_NlIaiJNfPBKIOuFhPZkbu7Jn8JEjKY7wH55tbbfaRsiqGsDsAmIGo/s1600/getting+organised+PM.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEim7loJX3ml9J5R8gSH-YPv04kQgBU6o2R1jnwQFDpVi-J-oDZ7QwhYcCp7alpvDC_LjQwsrKymY0wKB0RInKpTuW_NlIaiJNfPBKIOuFhPZkbu7Jn8JEjKY7wH55tbbfaRsiqGsDsAmIGo/s1600/getting+organised+PM.jpg" height="640" width="508" /></a></div>
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Prior to the BC diagnosis I was in the process of launching a new business. It's clearly not happened but I've had loads of time to develop my business plan and I'm now in the early stages of getting it off the ground. Watch this space!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA36LeSdp6ABlBwWSLH0ie40TBN4nMPwgyLP0WOELqDr6fJopLmWN46q_DImTFuj9_NtYdlF73ReK51BhxYBPI_pGHkz5-Ah_-DlxAc4hla4wiIVOAqicsyVBsaykRjQ0fQsftDmkwouKO/s1600/IMG_0024.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA36LeSdp6ABlBwWSLH0ie40TBN4nMPwgyLP0WOELqDr6fJopLmWN46q_DImTFuj9_NtYdlF73ReK51BhxYBPI_pGHkz5-Ah_-DlxAc4hla4wiIVOAqicsyVBsaykRjQ0fQsftDmkwouKO/s1600/IMG_0024.JPG" height="640" width="426" /></a></div>
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I'm still doing my best to spend at least a little while each day here. Some days are harder than others to put my feet up.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYllwy1XhIQlFLuq4KpvLIUQdjppoDK1Apc34t8Ryr-Sdu-3OHX1OH6CJuUzG4w1d-L-LN0sUmV68_4FKY1-8qrU9_FkYVNroGlXZ6RrRqI804YPvNKtBMDaMK8DtI11tRk78y3VpyJWqU/s1600/17th+wedding+ann+2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYllwy1XhIQlFLuq4KpvLIUQdjppoDK1Apc34t8Ryr-Sdu-3OHX1OH6CJuUzG4w1d-L-LN0sUmV68_4FKY1-8qrU9_FkYVNroGlXZ6RrRqI804YPvNKtBMDaMK8DtI11tRk78y3VpyJWqU/s1600/17th+wedding+ann+2.JPG" height="426" width="640" /></a></div>
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Oh and we had a wedding anniversary to celebrate on Saturday. Seventeen years! Can you believe it!! As you can see, age doesn't weary the silliness of Saint Mike:)<br />
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That's pretty much all I have to report. Note the distinct lack of talk re my mental state? Did I mention my physical recovery is going well? We won't discuss my fragile mental state. It's all good, time is a great healer as they say.<br />
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Libbyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05422169384250471413noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4244645562851686786.post-28869534840528227922014-03-19T00:54:00.001-07:002014-03-19T00:54:52.038-07:00Pottering<div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3_08iIsElPSmr50OSdnl_iATVZJJI64gTKDrT6DS3T5Crn2Bx5iJS23Jkdhsd80qQwdLEfR2_naRVuyB0fcUmCSAvd9DM3VDsKoadF_uCIrHz2aOfe3z8wUtwJvwNkll4GMv-wkZpWrFr/s640/blogger-image--130977270.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3_08iIsElPSmr50OSdnl_iATVZJJI64gTKDrT6DS3T5Crn2Bx5iJS23Jkdhsd80qQwdLEfR2_naRVuyB0fcUmCSAvd9DM3VDsKoadF_uCIrHz2aOfe3z8wUtwJvwNkll4GMv-wkZpWrFr/s640/blogger-image--130977270.jpg"></a></div><br></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">I'm supposed to be resting and recuperating. I'm trying to sit still but I'm really useless at it. </span></div></div></div><div><br></div><div>Instead I'm pottering about the house finding little jobs to do. One of them involves a minor bit of potting (nothing heavy is allowed).</div><div><br></div><div>I commandeered this ladder ages ago during a council clean up. Saint Mike isn't a fan but I love it's rustic charm.</div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY8gZ_gXCqMQNFHGdwz31bU2QvuxeFbbeAlPLEmTXaAnoRHR8l0kROSFAtievfiPVNkX9aWL3kptH676Gc9-SmbnIiOMbFBbsAGHkvjbQCLcX89mMlJZSFLJaJqfvkyJlbAGsgPCrhmTPi/s640/blogger-image-548163448.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY8gZ_gXCqMQNFHGdwz31bU2QvuxeFbbeAlPLEmTXaAnoRHR8l0kROSFAtievfiPVNkX9aWL3kptH676Gc9-SmbnIiOMbFBbsAGHkvjbQCLcX89mMlJZSFLJaJqfvkyJlbAGsgPCrhmTPi/s640/blogger-image-548163448.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">It's been repurposed for now as a pot plant holder. The bottom three white plants are the grape dip trays I finished last year but all the other little beauties are things I've potted up from cuttings some pre-surgery. Some post-op.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxl_ADsl-Ol-iP0WmGMhn-TCbDs56Fg-uGpwOp61j6wduqjxp8hf3WzTeygXZOMMyGxYVr5UTpI763XnPVMS5Oy2mN_YtPm4fPG7BmM0sqNr7a7YTmk2Ln1BUIspC0WOUhXy4aFc1rI48i/s640/blogger-image--604243412.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxl_ADsl-Ol-iP0WmGMhn-TCbDs56Fg-uGpwOp61j6wduqjxp8hf3WzTeygXZOMMyGxYVr5UTpI763XnPVMS5Oy2mN_YtPm4fPG7BmM0sqNr7a7YTmk2Ln1BUIspC0WOUhXy4aFc1rI48i/s640/blogger-image--604243412.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">These tea cups were lovely but they're just not practical. Hence I decided they'd look cute as a receptacle for succulents. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2xQX2M-33iD63XQKzMf56-krxUlfct2kkcMszQ00BDgE3q1htWK_DWPli9AZ2WWBb8w_ibL-yTXd5NKSKfvKWeHQQrxcjPakfChWNlWxXK7t04mFbNzMxnInse-dMIOioUAEmnJwHPhwY/s640/blogger-image--1643662910.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2xQX2M-33iD63XQKzMf56-krxUlfct2kkcMszQ00BDgE3q1htWK_DWPli9AZ2WWBb8w_ibL-yTXd5NKSKfvKWeHQQrxcjPakfChWNlWxXK7t04mFbNzMxnInse-dMIOioUAEmnJwHPhwY/s640/blogger-image--1643662910.jpg"></a></div><br></div>Now it's just a case of making sure the possum doesn't climb my ladder and have a naughty nibble!</div><br></div><br></div>Libbyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05422169384250471413noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4244645562851686786.post-40430392376723400312014-03-10T03:54:00.001-07:002014-03-10T03:54:30.205-07:00Home sweet home<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiirRrNb9eHkSx2JJRaSMCFk7O3v5xqhlXluLwdWzYZexRAc03dmHK44n-lP7de8406jcvEoRYpSaM5LxxzDs1FiB_lOszX0PYAlqrctZ0afvO3xGCO5s0gbuCGCdwXD9Dhk5jNpcR4kxIa/s640/blogger-image--1572960622.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiirRrNb9eHkSx2JJRaSMCFk7O3v5xqhlXluLwdWzYZexRAc03dmHK44n-lP7de8406jcvEoRYpSaM5LxxzDs1FiB_lOszX0PYAlqrctZ0afvO3xGCO5s0gbuCGCdwXD9Dhk5jNpcR4kxIa/s640/blogger-image--1572960622.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Late this afternoon my surgeon popped his smiling face in my door. A few minutes later he uttered the words I'd been waiting to hear. I was free to go home!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">The final drain was removed and I left hospital clutching my overflowing bag of medications. Let's just say if there's a sudden shortage of endone on the lower north shore swing by my place for a fix!!!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">A certain ruby-hued cavoodle was positively beside herself when I arrived home. She exhausted herself completely in her enthusiasm.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">My KATs were equally thrilled and Saint Mike was a walking sigh of relief. We are fortunate to once again have my big sister her to help nurse us all (she arrived last night) so it's been lovely to have her once again doing her best to cajole us all in the right direction - be it dinner, homework, shower or bed!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Anyone who reads this blog that knows her IRL (in real life) will know that cajoling is not a habit normally associated with her...she's usually more steamroller than powderpuff. So watching her gently persuading the KATs really speaks to how much she loves them and me:)</div>Libbyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05422169384250471413noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4244645562851686786.post-1978717781839686052014-03-07T23:18:00.001-08:002014-03-07T23:18:29.535-08:00The tastiest cherry<div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7EIQxExtZfFxrnXKTix92RlClUNWaR0_ypiBvhaVXHVTd3sKGPswWAJO7IIkI-OpBGJ2M1IG3SHa10iW7VeYkK2qIlVsvMROWEzRu7k9j3BkzM93YP1taYDhcDVnlljQ7kHkhhTqwqXm2/s640/blogger-image--1497275962.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7EIQxExtZfFxrnXKTix92RlClUNWaR0_ypiBvhaVXHVTd3sKGPswWAJO7IIkI-OpBGJ2M1IG3SHa10iW7VeYkK2qIlVsvMROWEzRu7k9j3BkzM93YP1taYDhcDVnlljQ7kHkhhTqwqXm2/s640/blogger-image--1497275962.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div><br></div>As I have processed down the corridor where all doors lead to breast cancer treatment I commandeered a saying from one of my favourite shows, VEEP.<div><br></div><div>If you haven't seen it, you are missing out. Then again you might watch a few minutes of it and decide that I'm the one missing out....on a few brain cells! It's about a female US Vice President and her minute by minute struggles with the Washington political machine. It is expletive-laden quick-fire dialogue and not for the faint-hearted.</div><div><br></div><div>One of Selena's funniest sayings comes when she's briefed on yet another crap situation coming her way and she announces "Well, isn't that just<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"> another cherry on my turd cake!!!" Insert a few F-bombs and you have the expression that I am now renowned for in the house of KATcapers!</span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br></span></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif">My latest cherry was my double mastectomy with TRAM flap reconstruction. I had determined that this was the surgery that would give me the outcome I wanted - remove the remaining DCIS in left boobie, reduce chance of cancer recurring in this boob and the other boob was going to be dragged along for the ride just in case leftie got lonely!! Seriously, I don't ever want to face breast cancer again so removing and reconstructing both breasts was the risk-minimization strategy that ticked all the boxes for me.</font></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif"><br></font></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEHla_QTY0f3-jtRNJdW7SogX01Cp1-3e4OSo24DXgQCO1-f5RZxPAIFHVw0nETmy_bpB3kEExm9qAKMu0aFDdc4Qjyz9688jYrVOE0WrFD8d5mdTKG89oVtNTfGbwDNSFZsgQYY65kB65/s640/blogger-image-427393994.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEHla_QTY0f3-jtRNJdW7SogX01Cp1-3e4OSo24DXgQCO1-f5RZxPAIFHVw0nETmy_bpB3kEExm9qAKMu0aFDdc4Qjyz9688jYrVOE0WrFD8d5mdTKG89oVtNTfGbwDNSFZsgQYY65kB65/s640/blogger-image-427393994.jpg"></a></div><br></font></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif"><br></font></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif">Surgery was Feb 26th. I was beside myself with terror in the days and weeks preceding.</font></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif"><br></font></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif">Surgery length was roughly 12 hours. I was at the hospital at 6am and apparently was in ICU by 9pm Wednesday night. I remained there heavily medicated until Saturday when I was transferred to the ward.</font></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif"><br></font></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif">My second stint in ICU was more painful but less dramatic than the December visit. I wasn't conscious for mush of it and the KATs didn't come in to visit....it just would have been too upsetting!</font></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif"><br></font></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKxywyZtrt4d5OUdsunH1UtC8ZhZpPF3b3uuHIrtnKYX555QVV1jOuumfJO7fgkZWVYPciuyaXI2b7MH7y3Uq503HYjG-yZYFhw4vTDN9HihgobBBYqconvfiv2OZLk3PM6VTmMRQYfpP5/s640/blogger-image--57767715.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKxywyZtrt4d5OUdsunH1UtC8ZhZpPF3b3uuHIrtnKYX555QVV1jOuumfJO7fgkZWVYPciuyaXI2b7MH7y3Uq503HYjG-yZYFhw4vTDN9HihgobBBYqconvfiv2OZLk3PM6VTmMRQYfpP5/s640/blogger-image--57767715.jpg"></a></div><br></font></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif"><br></font></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif">I came down to the ward with 6 drains slowly ridding my body of the fluid from surgery. I was a human octopus with said drains needing to be "milked" each few hours and every 24hrs measured...each drain needs to be under 30ml before it can be removed. These drains are uncomfortable and painful when they're accidentally tugged on. Worse still, I had one in my groin that was touching a nerve and I was in agony each time the nursing staff tried to move me...grim!</font></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif"><br></font></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif">During my ICU stint I had required another blood transfusion and my blood pressure had once again been cause for concern. Checks of my new breasts' blood supply were done on a 30min schedule so what sleep I could manage was in those increments! By Saturday the "flap" checks were being done 4 hourly. Leaving ICU also meant leaving behind my PCA machine which was my push-button method of getting a fast dose of pain relief. Once in the ward I went to a combination of slow release narcotic and more instant endone with a chaser of paracetamol....the pain relief version of a pat on the head!</font></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif"><br></font></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4bKMIpN9kQi4gxS20aKn3EpyjwnhKuxE2T0mtyc52bYWwTiDxnv8CbHdPWrbrcQqmOJJv-rOlUXEBrQnTAaZs9a0UYaw5cFH7OUL-d7yIPxrSJD3nD7uhB0Q_0cM1NH4aFV4VTTw3hVM4/s640/blogger-image-798200549.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4bKMIpN9kQi4gxS20aKn3EpyjwnhKuxE2T0mtyc52bYWwTiDxnv8CbHdPWrbrcQqmOJJv-rOlUXEBrQnTAaZs9a0UYaw5cFH7OUL-d7yIPxrSJD3nD7uhB0Q_0cM1NH4aFV4VTTw3hVM4/s640/blogger-image-798200549.jpg"></a></div><br></font></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif"><br></font></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif">It's been a ride that's for sure! My body is still reeling from the shock imposed on it and emotionally I am up one minute and then crashing down the next. Unfortunately what was to be a 7 night hospital stay has become 11 nights due to fluid still draining and a requirement for some additional surgery on the following Wednesday to deal with an area on the left breast flap where the skin wasn't going to survive. To the naked eye it looked just like an area of bruising, but in actuality it was dying tissue.</font></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif"><br></font></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif">So here I lie typing away on Saturday night hoping that tomorrow will be the day I can go home to my gorgeous girls. They have been so brave and I want them to be able to commence the new school week with their mum finally back home...cross fingers!</font></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif"><br></font></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpLR9g57Kw_CNVLp_Q-DAQN6PRsN_i-KaoLyqIj3QOt2rNwJvN0taWx_McWDpb_QKruBZOfRSMabqFmVQq063mz3lXQLP3d28zEduTmO7T_Dgs0cRLCuFLM_8gjfEesFBqbucGP8QMgv4Z/s640/blogger-image-1818024025.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpLR9g57Kw_CNVLp_Q-DAQN6PRsN_i-KaoLyqIj3QOt2rNwJvN0taWx_McWDpb_QKruBZOfRSMabqFmVQq063mz3lXQLP3d28zEduTmO7T_Dgs0cRLCuFLM_8gjfEesFBqbucGP8QMgv4Z/s640/blogger-image-1818024025.jpg"></a></div><br></font></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif">It will be a long recovery (6 weeks not driving and apparently 12 weeks before I get my strength back). I can't sit up without rolling over and aside from scars and inflammation and new boobs I have a scar that extends from my rear pelvic bone all the way around the front to the other side and back to above my butt! It's a whopper! </font></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif"><br></font></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif">As with every other step in this process we have been overwhelmed by the love and support of our family and friends near and far. We are being supported every step of the way and for that I am extremely grateful.</font></div>Libbyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05422169384250471413noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4244645562851686786.post-47763385179475572402014-02-21T15:59:00.001-08:002014-02-21T15:59:09.056-08:00Channeling Sigourney<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyuYJaTlVBmWFCAC1AMAoRIeTVuLP2qbynE3JFSB8g5QsEEZJLQu3s14_mN90Y21mERGoS5aNHpa8DRfrC3fDepLdH_QtGC9KGCTATjY8RFaz7arl2xbXUw7bpc_Abp9BJqYHVkt6HUUeu/s640/blogger-image--1294550962.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyuYJaTlVBmWFCAC1AMAoRIeTVuLP2qbynE3JFSB8g5QsEEZJLQu3s14_mN90Y21mERGoS5aNHpa8DRfrC3fDepLdH_QtGC9KGCTATjY8RFaz7arl2xbXUw7bpc_Abp9BJqYHVkt6HUUeu/s640/blogger-image--1294550962.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">I'm off to hospital next Wednesday. Bright and early. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">It's all been a bit much and I want to go to sleep now and wake up in 8 weeks so I can avoid what's coming. Clearly that's not going to be happening.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Instead I'm continuing to focus on my word for 2014 - GRIT!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">As if the universe knows that I need some Alien-butt-kicking mojo at my disposal my hair has reached the point of re-sprouting where I'm giving Sigourney Weaver a run for her money. For the record, it feels like velvet:) Soft and baby fresh!! Won't talk about the colour looking dish-water brown/grey!!!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Watch out world! My ball-breaking head and I are mean business!!!!!</div>Libbyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05422169384250471413noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4244645562851686786.post-44498409620657971612014-01-26T19:31:00.001-08:002014-01-26T19:31:00.748-08:00Our word for 2014<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQvjIorATs6SDtgrFxbwI7RF6Gk4vvPE23QqN-NQ98w4d5Z-8Czsfdnw31cmfXa0JR96xNnJTLNe6Ws1nLCykaiCGQ5g_72Zsw6X1syCuq_LVUwRi06JwAlI5VN0S_VnRgcawf4K4vwfhH/s640/blogger-image-179372034.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQvjIorATs6SDtgrFxbwI7RF6Gk4vvPE23QqN-NQ98w4d5Z-8Czsfdnw31cmfXa0JR96xNnJTLNe6Ws1nLCykaiCGQ5g_72Zsw6X1syCuq_LVUwRi06JwAlI5VN0S_VnRgcawf4K4vwfhH/s640/blogger-image-179372034.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">This is our word for 2014. It's applies to all of us in some way or another. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">For me it describes what's been required since the dreaded "C" word was first uttered six months ago. Craptastic chemo took so much out of me that I am still trying to restock but in reality it feels like I'm in the eye of the storm as my surgery is being planned and I know that will take its own toll on my already ravaged body.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">We often use the word resilience in our family. It's an important trait that we want the KATs to develop (and they are). But I also love the word Grit because it feels more "active" to me....being resilient can sometimes seems a bit reactive...this situation or this person is being shitty and I need to bounce back etcetera etcetera. Grit on the other hand is about not just bouncing back but getting stronger as a result.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAdE7PEurbD1IBGenjFWpyBa38Nn6sQ82W1E38-Nc181jee9abWQg6D3huTy_qd6sHJxi1TUMjhomW0oWB0KMg1MGAzf7-31FxYWjGJ4LtfBAzvSqvzRqqaGkijW-G9qLdoNoUbg-p7cbI/s640/blogger-image--865315685.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAdE7PEurbD1IBGenjFWpyBa38Nn6sQ82W1E38-Nc181jee9abWQg6D3huTy_qd6sHJxi1TUMjhomW0oWB0KMg1MGAzf7-31FxYWjGJ4LtfBAzvSqvzRqqaGkijW-G9qLdoNoUbg-p7cbI/s640/blogger-image--865315685.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Active versus passive. Does that make sense?</div><br></div>Libbyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05422169384250471413noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4244645562851686786.post-46385435775456513562014-01-03T02:25:00.001-08:002014-01-03T02:25:51.170-08:00A sting in the tail<div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcmJtd0SnB8nMHa6gW37_ym2EtLPvSiFMUhOapT-8qDEaHOnvQDNhP9PWarTYLy4kMxN4CvsU9EGb0mXA-_5gMWGcDSB9kEtQv62tq789FnGMF6eoTR4f2zFqdwniGIr70h_VN_fEW0Win/s640/blogger-image--977381093.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcmJtd0SnB8nMHa6gW37_ym2EtLPvSiFMUhOapT-8qDEaHOnvQDNhP9PWarTYLy4kMxN4CvsU9EGb0mXA-_5gMWGcDSB9kEtQv62tq789FnGMF6eoTR4f2zFqdwniGIr70h_VN_fEW0Win/s640/blogger-image--977381093.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div><br></div>So no sooner had I logged my Christmas Day post than the fist of two ill-fitting shoes fell.<div><br></div><div>First I got the news on Boxing Day that my Neutrophils (a type of white blood cell) were at an all-time low and this would explain my particularly low energy levels.</div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br></span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"> In actual fact I had awoken on Boxing Day feeling like I had the worst hangover in history and yet I was quite certain that no alcohol had passed my lips. Unless some nurse overimbued with festive spirit had tipped some into my canula it was not a hangover making me feel so craptastic!</span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br></span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">As the day wore on the second shoe dropped. My blood pressure proceeded to dive and by the evening it was clear that my low neutrophils had make me easy pickings for an infection. Cue nasty chest cough. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br></span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"> I spent Friday morning huddled under multiple thin hospital blankets. Blood tests confirmed my white blood cells were continuing their descent and my blood pressure was giving a convincing impression that my heart was anywhere but beating enthusiastically in my chest cavity. Oh and the cough was worse.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br></span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">Just after lunch the nurse appeared to check my "obs" and calmly squeezed my forearm before preparing me for what was to come next. It was time to call in the cavalry. Cue the ICU doctor.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br></span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">What ensued over the next 12 hours will be forever etched in my mind. I didn't have the benefit of being unconscious so the only part that isn't imprinted on my brain is the view of the corridor, lift and the general ICU area as they wheeled me there. For some reason I had my eyes closed. Oh that would probably be because I was in such a weakened state I could barely keep my eyes open so squeezing them shut was far less taxing.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br></span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">It wasn't until 48 hrs later that I worked out that the entire ICU wasn't made up of individual rooms full of medical equipment and state of the art monitors....and a bathroom of my own. Why my view out the door was of a storage shelf and the doctors and nurses had what looked like a card table set up in my doorway. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br></span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">Hmmnnn that would be because I was in the isolation room! One of only two such rooms in ICU. They had to be perched right outside my room because the nurses station was 20 metres away and I was requiring constant attention!</span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br></span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">Just a tip. If you do happen to have the misfortune of ending up in ICU pray you are unconscious. Putting in an arterial line fricking hurts. Like buggery!!!! What is an arterial line you ask? It's a nasty long needle about 10cm long that needs to inserted into your radial artery at your wrist. Yes very unpleasant! Requires sutures to keep it in that were bloody painful in the meaty part of my palm for the time it was in. Thankfully I was pretty drugged up so this wasn't a big issue. Getting them removed was a different matter!</span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br></span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">Attached to an arterial line (helps them accurately monitor your vitals) and with sticky bits all over my chest for other measurements I looked like Pinocchio.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br></span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJehh03V6FsGLnq1LprRWFE8ciVwqBlR3OlIsgup6BYvDQP5VTtAdM2gj7bqok2Mj5VzX-7r1WxJjrceuIWkRKkeWgaJwNbKa1cYS44wBTi-N46m9eEXtcsFHduCagmO__Wg5YhMi84sC8/s640/blogger-image--1152904994.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJehh03V6FsGLnq1LprRWFE8ciVwqBlR3OlIsgup6BYvDQP5VTtAdM2gj7bqok2Mj5VzX-7r1WxJjrceuIWkRKkeWgaJwNbKa1cYS44wBTi-N46m9eEXtcsFHduCagmO__Wg5YhMi84sC8/s640/blogger-image--1152904994.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Sorry for the pathetic photo...this was taken when the emergency had passed (24hrs in) and I was able to smile despite how truly horrid the situation had become.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Preceding this shot was the initial hours of desperately low blood pressure where they were pumping me full of fluid and seeing if my BP would rise and if my kidneys were going to keep functioning. They also got me onto antibiotics quick smart and the middle of the night heralded the arrival of my long lost friend N.A.U.S.E.A. with her close friend Vomiting! My lovely ICU nurse assured me that these two were welcome party arrivals as it was "all sputum....no stomach acids" which was apparently! Mind you it didn't feel so great to me to be covered in vomit and wires and it occurring to me that this might actually be what it feels like before you die.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">ICU is a stripped back environment and there was nothing soft-focus about it. Lying in the half-light of monitors that are actually attached to you and reflecting my real precarious state and not some sound effect on a TV drama was distressing it say the least.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Fast forward it the following day and whilst my white blood cells were refusing the advice to surface, Agent-Orange like antibiotics had held infection at bay and with the amount of fluids they'd pumped into me I could have served as a tug boat for the Titanic!!!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">It took another day before I was shipped back to my room on the ward and it took 13 long days before I was able to make my escape from the hospital.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">This is my selfie when I got the news that my Neutrophils had passed the no-go zone</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgflPWVT_eSQtUczdyK_BVWA0DPT7EepV_PPvL4V1ieKZch1xsZcb3gd5Kkqvto4iA2cRmARNI-9CIOr-gGZpjy0S8O9GTCwMnMwrsxNFM9kf8q0L3AVRFFov9E7yKRa01OlDF3KnC4BMKI/s640/blogger-image-179862901.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgflPWVT_eSQtUczdyK_BVWA0DPT7EepV_PPvL4V1ieKZch1xsZcb3gd5Kkqvto4iA2cRmARNI-9CIOr-gGZpjy0S8O9GTCwMnMwrsxNFM9kf8q0L3AVRFFov9E7yKRa01OlDF3KnC4BMKI/s640/blogger-image-179862901.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Just over an hour later my break-out crew arrived to extricate me from the clutches of the ward</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyM0X6-QZhkUa5-Y8E7y4lrA5xmBVbas2cm2CdRdk5oxPhJJ3cF99eGZJUauQedXtGIMdvGpRw-kt9jOWcEF46v7_tfTCYfAxDSWRmTV6qhOn-dQfxBVFb1x43lRlO-dWMdoOsZmcE8oMa/s640/blogger-image-380142905.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyM0X6-QZhkUa5-Y8E7y4lrA5xmBVbas2cm2CdRdk5oxPhJJ3cF99eGZJUauQedXtGIMdvGpRw-kt9jOWcEF46v7_tfTCYfAxDSWRmTV6qhOn-dQfxBVFb1x43lRlO-dWMdoOsZmcE8oMa/s640/blogger-image-380142905.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Home. Happy. Healthy (as healthy as I can be at this juncture!).</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">With my family and very grateful to be here despite the sting in craptastic chemo's tail!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">The top photo is the lovely nurse who saw me off to ICU and serendipitously was my discharge nurse today! What a lovely coincidence. So very nice to have her there to see me go home smiling.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">New Year's Day for 2014 for us is officially today- Jan 3. Bring on 2014!!!!!</div><br></div><br></div><br></span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br></span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br></span></div>Libbyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05422169384250471413noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4244645562851686786.post-11400124012536203782013-12-26T00:23:00.001-08:002013-12-26T00:23:09.371-08:00Best pressie santa could bring us<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9Hi6yN-MX-CMi9v3h4cfBh08sZXzHtowXZaO8anBcivmMUTH8no5F3NYFSxiGocSlsHc7Fv8zFXF_NYxYmaLVLfbVuEjD_O2VZgaVUAUFpKDtD8UldZ90jFZEn5jKJQkR0AWVwDn6rBiv/s640/blogger-image-1414986805.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9Hi6yN-MX-CMi9v3h4cfBh08sZXzHtowXZaO8anBcivmMUTH8no5F3NYFSxiGocSlsHc7Fv8zFXF_NYxYmaLVLfbVuEjD_O2VZgaVUAUFpKDtD8UldZ90jFZEn5jKJQkR0AWVwDn6rBiv/s640/blogger-image-1414986805.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Christmas this year has been spent lounging around in hospital. I observed to my own personal reindeer (Saint Mike) that this was a rather extreme way of ensuring a stress-free Christmas Day!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">What has been absent this year due to my planned admission for blessed relief from craptastic chemo nausea you ask?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">- No psycho mummy attempting to create a feast worthy of Martha Stewart</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">- No control enthusiast mummy attempting to orchestrate setting of table to match feast worth of Martha</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">- No control enthusiast mummy cracking the complete shits because no one can get their arses enthusiastically to the table to enjoy (and provide positive reinforcement) for said feast worthy of Martha</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Ahhhhhhhhh can you hear Saint Mike's sigh of relief?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Instead I came into hospital on Sunday and have remained cocooned in what is a very quiet hospital over the Christmas break. Coming to it with very low expectations it has been blessedly stress free for me too. Oh aside from the cough I've picked up from a rather over enthusiastic air conditioning vent above my bed:)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">I decided not to set daddy any hurdles to jump over and left alone he has hit all the right notes...my room gets the prize for the most festive in the hospital (according to every staff member that crosses the doorstep).</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-Ekq6o9_nWgtNZ2tYnZNFpNGJ1o5yoV3hK5knwqM92UShXtKrDew3tO9sNxgyfieBpVx_9vXtKLPCogd_mBZ8ktfpJ_YaPYFhKs3ZfOE_3fxUvlKncfrvKZ2qqNesVxu_V1c8b9NSyN1l/s640/blogger-image-1277412573.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-Ekq6o9_nWgtNZ2tYnZNFpNGJ1o5yoV3hK5knwqM92UShXtKrDew3tO9sNxgyfieBpVx_9vXtKLPCogd_mBZ8ktfpJ_YaPYFhKs3ZfOE_3fxUvlKncfrvKZ2qqNesVxu_V1c8b9NSyN1l/s640/blogger-image-1277412573.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">The girls brought their bean bags and lay about to watch the Carols (Melbourne/Channel 9 version!!!)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdtxHOosxUx0gTLDJyI1U9xEMJ3ODJNBwxRyauo56N8VEUKSET2oakkudMCgxkHw7A2o5fv2_yM5XQqFGBbfFL3aSYcO3hMui83Ez27V_npx7d3Ol2-hNm1ay-wZP1m0PT8dJnvm2q4RXc/s640/blogger-image-87729205.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdtxHOosxUx0gTLDJyI1U9xEMJ3ODJNBwxRyauo56N8VEUKSET2oakkudMCgxkHw7A2o5fv2_yM5XQqFGBbfFL3aSYcO3hMui83Ez27V_npx7d3Ol2-hNm1ay-wZP1m0PT8dJnvm2q4RXc/s640/blogger-image-87729205.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">I awoke on Christmas morning with a suitable burst of energy and had a wonderful visit with my little elves and stubbly reindeer. I opened my presents and didn't once have to adopt the dreaded "present receiving face"! I was just so grateful to be with my gorgeous little family and be able to share such special time with them.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Having unwrapped my gifts I gave my KATs the best pressie they could ever receive (I hoped). The news that this hospital visit spells the end of my downward trip resulting from craptastic chemo. After six tortuous cycles my oncologist has decided that I can forego cycle 7!!!!! No more FECking FEC for me:)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">There were tears all round from Oldest KAT, Middle KAT and me. Saint Mike and Littlest KAT stayed composed. The relief in my beautiful girls eyes was palpable.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Truly the best pressie ever - a mummy that will start to get better in the New Year.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><br></div><br></div>Libbyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05422169384250471413noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4244645562851686786.post-75542145787850970272013-12-18T10:01:00.001-08:002013-12-18T10:01:31.928-08:00Catching up<div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIbOijkfR10zttPJLGNNJX2ri6c5R26O84_cj9UgojijuwOmvLmCH4QFiIyEduHzohCMNfcjcAFKZ-1M3jR7PArbA9N_mCo4HoyO6Lxc3hHPQw4RlMjewkdpogCle22YPe__u81G7bWtse/s640/blogger-image-166356077.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIbOijkfR10zttPJLGNNJX2ri6c5R26O84_cj9UgojijuwOmvLmCH4QFiIyEduHzohCMNfcjcAFKZ-1M3jR7PArbA9N_mCo4HoyO6Lxc3hHPQw4RlMjewkdpogCle22YPe__u81G7bWtse/s640/blogger-image-166356077.jpg"></a></div><br></div>Catching up. Chasing my tail. Staying afloat. Pretty much sums up what it feels like to be going through each three week craptastic chemo cycle.<div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2Zo8U_npAnx4xt6EHuxz4bXxvNpzgmty9aFsCYOZ5gkv0widOBe3eUVTjlkxiUjCuk_6uLOYq3k_PbUhhHb4bbUA__FS1Fe171BtNxfq96i52dReLJ8PBT1Me7WwWbkTRvXBIMOkPna2r/s640/blogger-image-1576158537.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2Zo8U_npAnx4xt6EHuxz4bXxvNpzgmty9aFsCYOZ5gkv0widOBe3eUVTjlkxiUjCuk_6uLOYq3k_PbUhhHb4bbUA__FS1Fe171BtNxfq96i52dReLJ8PBT1Me7WwWbkTRvXBIMOkPna2r/s640/blogger-image-1576158537.jpg"></a></div><br><div><br></div><div>Chemo day seems to be rolling around faster and faster. Recollections of merry-go-rounds. No sooner have you swung your head around to keep sight of the parent (or some other random landmark) than you've been whipped around again. The cycles seemingly getting faster and faster and everything a blur in between.</div><div><br></div><div>My last hospital stay was a blessed relief. The cyclozine is truly my miracle drug. It effectively alleviates the nausea as long as I can get my two daily injections. Unfortunately once I'm home again the dreaded nausea returns.</div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWbaqd4THbS5USQYqRrsMx7lJY_cl0SdsCN1ZFVZlLFNN6AbIHbHGKP2clw19IwjXn3cU9ou458SNEak_iYBd01MA55O-rplXtXwQafmDDN2yPCCxYd3jd6NrsPnUqEUymTvuskyNC-PMO/s640/blogger-image-1900686348.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWbaqd4THbS5USQYqRrsMx7lJY_cl0SdsCN1ZFVZlLFNN6AbIHbHGKP2clw19IwjXn3cU9ou458SNEak_iYBd01MA55O-rplXtXwQafmDDN2yPCCxYd3jd6NrsPnUqEUymTvuskyNC-PMO/s640/blogger-image-1900686348.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div><br></div><div>The cycle goes something like this:</div><div>Day 1 is Craptastic chemo day. The me that presents at the chemo cottage is chirpy and bright. Like a bird in the wild my camoflauge of choice is usually some sort of bright ensemble matched with equally bright accessories (earrings are my thing). In the course of the 2.5hr infusion of my FEC cocktail I am transformed into a weakened version of the me that arrived. If my colours could reflect the internal tranformation they would be faded and grey by the time the last fluids have dripped slowly into my arm. I am chauffered home by my most constand companion (Saint Mike) and it's straight into bed for blessed sleep.</div><div><br></div><div>Day 2 is the calm before the storm. The Emend drug does it's thang, keeping the nausea well and truly at bay. 24hrs post infusion I give myself a jab of Neulasta which is the veritable bugle call for my white blood cells to rally. I've been told I'm being remarkably nonplussed by the need to inject myself with this drug throughout chemo but I find it's really the least of my concerns. I channel my innter orange and just jab it in. It's only a temporary affliction...diabetics have it a lot worse if they have inject themselves daily or more!!</div><div><br></div><div>Day 3 is when the nausea tide begins to lap at the shore. The effectiveness of the Emend drug used to last until day 4 but last cycle I was dry retching by midday on Day 3 (Sunday) and it's only with a midday dose of Dex (my friend who associates with Speed) that I can get through the day. This last cycle I busied myself with some obsessive-compulsive Christmas decorating.</div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIRlUYr_suXQdFgBdEP9tvJ1Ai8zVTkumI20bew8fr4-IlV2CfQ8I_gq6MML3MH8GpRlvDiqXYHuU136S3adRkACUH175fLcKEsu0Raa5fxYe9dULIrBK_q-LQ-6pj7vl3KVjrxB-TkHiT/s640/blogger-image--1107251274.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIRlUYr_suXQdFgBdEP9tvJ1Ai8zVTkumI20bew8fr4-IlV2CfQ8I_gq6MML3MH8GpRlvDiqXYHuU136S3adRkACUH175fLcKEsu0Raa5fxYe9dULIrBK_q-LQ-6pj7vl3KVjrxB-TkHiT/s640/blogger-image--1107251274.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div><br></div><div>Day 4 it was off to hospital. The cocoon-like nature of my hospital room. The frequent "observations" by the nurses and drugs and fluids being pumped in via my other constant companion (jthe drip!).</div><div><br></div><div>Day 8 I bid farewell to my last Cyclozine injection and whilst the thought of being at home is attractive because I am around my favourite people in the entire universe....it's also anxiety-laden as the nausea begins to lap around my toes once more and before the weekend (Day 10) is out I am back to waist deep in a tide of nausea that although doesn't submerge me certainly makes for an unpleasant week ahead as I try and keep it at from submerging me.</div><div><br></div><div>Day 14 is when I start to get some semblence of normality back. Unfortunately "normal" at this point still feels like your worst sensations of chronic fatigue syndrome. Daily routine is nirvana but a struggle. This cycle it coincided with the school graduation mass and I was determined to do my "bit" with the catering and entertaining the lovely families who are departing the school this year. It was also my chance to catch up with my support crew of lovely mums who have been such a help and cheer squad.</div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinuC9-ZLUWvw2-IQ9ar2zGR3yrlZ8UfXW6cMTUhCJHumnnRCs58UQ2MHNr1F43YnACx3l-LBtXBykUVjTBaKion1fEKtJ_QwVU3tH3rntzLC2_rf2In9IWCSkhBG9SBla9cGhHFuEOesSH/s640/blogger-image--2058695851.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinuC9-ZLUWvw2-IQ9ar2zGR3yrlZ8UfXW6cMTUhCJHumnnRCs58UQ2MHNr1F43YnACx3l-LBtXBykUVjTBaKion1fEKtJ_QwVU3tH3rntzLC2_rf2In9IWCSkhBG9SBla9cGhHFuEOesSH/s640/blogger-image--2058695851.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div><br></div><div>I may perhaps have overdone things and according to Saint Mike I overstayed by about an hour. Shortness of breath, heart palpatations and dizziness accompanied my attempt to exit and I had to be helped to the car by a none-too pleased husband! It was worth it! I had a great night:)</div><div><br></div><div>I'm now typing away on the morning of Day 20. I've been up since 3:30am. Sleep is not my friend at present. Fingers of sunlight are starting to creep up from the horizon and the kookaburras have commenced their morning conversation. Today is blood test day to check my levels in anticipation of starting a new cycle tomorrow on Day 21.</div><div><br></div><div>It's a wild ride!</div></div>Libbyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05422169384250471413noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4244645562851686786.post-54226772519507502022013-11-29T16:51:00.001-08:002013-11-29T16:51:14.941-08:00Helping me get up these endless hills<div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXEWEt6YR7EYfDWwrnULgPviGuJDBq1L8pM5lU7XHyTgHcz9WIdG4kK8jOhZxZahxLrtDI3g6YD5km0bpOlgrDD9wjU_opVuK78WWX7swH-iMMuyRwOfn3JXdGIIotnwp4OQ0kJZZnyfqu/s640/blogger-image-1635476599.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXEWEt6YR7EYfDWwrnULgPviGuJDBq1L8pM5lU7XHyTgHcz9WIdG4kK8jOhZxZahxLrtDI3g6YD5km0bpOlgrDD9wjU_opVuK78WWX7swH-iMMuyRwOfn3JXdGIIotnwp4OQ0kJZZnyfqu/s640/blogger-image-1635476599.jpg"></a></div><br></div>We're at the gruelling part of the FBC journey. My latest analogy is that it's like riding up a hill anticipating that if you can just tough it out to the crest you can cruise down the othert side before you need to confront the next hill.<div><br></div><div>Except there is no crest. There's just another bloody hill. Hills with no crest. No time to re-fill your "tank". Barely time to take your hands off the handlebars and gulp in some replenishing fluids.</div><div><br></div><div>This past cycle was a turning point in many ways. It included the "planned admission" to hospital where I endured three failed attempts to insert a canula whilst my three lovely KATs cavorted around the room, the registrar became increasingly agitated, my wonderful sister bit her tongue and Saint Mike maintained his usual calm demeanour and I wanted to close my eyes and float away to a land where there are no more needles and no more nausea.</div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhr3RXHJNUNP1haevBMZLoxOoj9UCAIWgf3HcowrzqPuHZbS1QS8gu5zTWZxWRBkYyp8TFM3C9Oo6_x6vJphHqSJ_f-ep6PdFCXkO4EjrPGYEmV-E8vijR4wwjSvD-YDlluSMdEwvjLPFRv/s640/blogger-image--538668961.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhr3RXHJNUNP1haevBMZLoxOoj9UCAIWgf3HcowrzqPuHZbS1QS8gu5zTWZxWRBkYyp8TFM3C9Oo6_x6vJphHqSJ_f-ep6PdFCXkO4EjrPGYEmV-E8vijR4wwjSvD-YDlluSMdEwvjLPFRv/s640/blogger-image--538668961.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div>It took two days before the magic cocktail of anti-nausea drugs was established. In my case the drug Cyclozine is the wonder drug that when combined with Zofran and fluids makes my nausea retreat. Unfortunately it can only be given by injection so I had a sub-cutaneous butterfly thing put in so they could inject it without more jabs.</div><div><br></div><div>I came home late in the week and without my new bestie (Cyclozine) I was back to wobbly - the nausea although not as bad as at the start of week 1 was still grim and my bowels go into lockdown so I was in a bad way over the weekend.</div><div><br></div><div>Getting back up and around my priority was to nurture my KATs because the hospital week had been really tough on them. Planned or unplanned, seeing your mum in such a low state and having to leave her side to go home wasn't much fun for any of them.</div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh967f9K7Iw1Hj_DiFr3fRLB3_GRio1HgUnj5mho-JnmcXqMPviOxJsxWAab4JnoFkVXV2nwrLLC54F6b0B7-V38m44cnocmaubLw4GhtcQ0KdIxQrYOix-V8l-rJlnXa0bhcG5mdZzrmOT/s640/blogger-image--1232206055.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh967f9K7Iw1Hj_DiFr3fRLB3_GRio1HgUnj5mho-JnmcXqMPviOxJsxWAab4JnoFkVXV2nwrLLC54F6b0B7-V38m44cnocmaubLw4GhtcQ0KdIxQrYOix-V8l-rJlnXa0bhcG5mdZzrmOT/s640/blogger-image--1232206055.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div><br></div><div>I decided to spend as much time as I could giving each of them one-on-one time and thankfully by the end of week 2 they were all in a much happier place.</div><div><br></div><div>I on the other hand commenced week 3 dreading the countdown to Friday's craptastic chemo day and the commencement of our next "hill". This hill was made all the more steep because I had an appointment to see the breast surgeon and discuss my double mastectomy which is to happen 6-8 weeks post-chemo. </div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLxIh7N-mwJ9KQosRjle9C5EnAmJd_LRhnL9dAHrfliZ9odT55MhM3wlbcLSTsuLh9IJaOHJ_L8M8Rb5Ez4W9_9Z62869U9qsLnd_G3ODzIQNKFZIV7KOkiHUXwRMoXy5PYGL1oRF9T1dz/s640/blogger-image--475249527.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLxIh7N-mwJ9KQosRjle9C5EnAmJd_LRhnL9dAHrfliZ9odT55MhM3wlbcLSTsuLh9IJaOHJ_L8M8Rb5Ez4W9_9Z62869U9qsLnd_G3ODzIQNKFZIV7KOkiHUXwRMoXy5PYGL1oRF9T1dz/s640/blogger-image--475249527.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div><br></div><div>Throughout this journey I have tried to focus on what's immediately in front of me. Consequently, this next surgery has been put in the "later" basket. Now it's front of mind and I am feeling quite overwhelmed by the prospect of having my old friends removed and a 12 hour reconstruction. Lots to organize and consider and hurdles to overcome re co ordinating the timing of my breast surgeon and the plastic and reconstructive dude. So far it's not going well. </div><div><br></div><div>My older sister commented that what I need is an advocate so I don't have to deal with their shit-fighting over fitting me in....she's a smart girl (both my sisters are very very bright!). Bring on the advocate I say. In the spirit of my bike riding analogy it's like someone jumping out of the underbrush, reaching out and shoving my weary arse up this bloody endless hill!</div><div><br></div><div>As you can see from the photos in this post, life goes on! My KATs are growing up amidst this turmoil and I couldn't be prouder of them. I continue to be surrounded by caring and thoughtful friends who have given us the metaphorical push up the hill at various points!!</div><div><br></div><div>To those who comment and read these posts you too are hands pushing us up the hill and for that I am eternally grateful:)</div>Libbyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05422169384250471413noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4244645562851686786.post-25986260833830727942013-11-18T21:11:00.001-08:002013-11-18T21:11:50.370-08:00There's no good cancer<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiowiqczXph2YCYGb2Xv_SFZ0qLjRCQRNXCmwjC9JilOp6Pn2o0N289sl5hkdY7ElK0-RxaKbezCOoqd12wbkuJdE1TqWMnrJXaEGm7rt7HXlKpX1_rEKGcAe3Nw6iG9S7u4u58xnhMkuGX/s640/blogger-image-935826614.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiowiqczXph2YCYGb2Xv_SFZ0qLjRCQRNXCmwjC9JilOp6Pn2o0N289sl5hkdY7ElK0-RxaKbezCOoqd12wbkuJdE1TqWMnrJXaEGm7rt7HXlKpX1_rEKGcAe3Nw6iG9S7u4u58xnhMkuGX/s640/blogger-image-935826614.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">I called into a talk back radio show today. Couldn't help myself. Haven't ever been backward in coming forward and not going to start now.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">The topic was related to the disproportionate attention (and resources) that Breast Cancer gets relative to other cancers and the community perception that it is the "biggest" cancer for women.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">As I was waiting on hold to make my point I listened to the various callers and a very articulate man from the Australian Cancer Council who dispelled some "myths" (for example lung cancer is actually the biggest "killer" of women). </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">A lady called in and referred to breast cancer as the "sexy" cancer. The announcer (who I love) asked her in what sense she meant sexy. Quite rightly she talked about the fact that from a marketers perspective boobs are sexy.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">I was really surprised by the emotion that the use of the word sexy stirred in me. I was almost teary contemplating the dichotomy of sexiness and the realities of breast cancer. The two should never be used in the same sentence and I felt compelled to make that point strongly.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">When I did get to speak (which in itself was an honour as I can imagine there were a huge number of calls on the "board") I managed to make the following points quite succinctly (for me a waffler from way back):</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">1. All cancers and in fact all diseases that affect families the way we have been affected suck.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">2. It would be fantastic if all the other forms of cancer could be elevated to the degree of public awareness, support, charitable contribution and therefore research and services that Breast Cancer has because then everyone who gets this terrible diagnosis would benefit equally.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Then I made my final point. The one where I said that using sexy in the same sentence as Breast Cancer makes me want to cry. Sexy is the last thing I feel and the Pink October marketing of perfect boobs when that is far from what women are left with post-breast cancer treatment is very distressing to me.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">The truth of it is that my boob is a mangled mess and I try not to look at it. I certainly don't touch it and the fact that Saint Mike and I jokingly refer to this as our "year without sex" isn't just due to chemo nausea. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">My hormones have packed up their wagon and decamped. I am experiencing th joys (plural) of the hot flush multiple times a day. If I'm not feeling like puking I'm a cranky cow likely to bite my husbands head off! His saintly status is not just being enhanced by his patience with the treatment but also with the repurcussions it's had for our interactions.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">I've always had a fairly amiable relationship with my boobs. Now that they're on a countdown to oblivion I feel like it's only a matter of time before I give this tangible loss the air time it deserves. But I can't focus on it now. Out with the old and in the new will happen in late Feb/early March but in the meantime I've got to focus on what's immediately in front of me and unfortunately that's a bucket! </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Sorry if this is a tad depressing. Felt like putting on the record these particular emotions. One day my girls will read this blog and I want them to get a nuanced perspective:) </div>Libbyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05422169384250471413noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4244645562851686786.post-5388197143877039012013-11-09T14:54:00.001-08:002013-11-09T14:54:40.236-08:00Lull before the stormIt's day three of chemo cycle 4 and I'm sitting up in bed typing on my iPad using my new whiz bang keyboard and origami cover<div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUi1PDEk0CDleVkNMyfZmZSGVvxXY_aaMZ0dSK7DUYXYRBIXkIHpzND2Nojl4Gn8u6hIMHbNHIOqJEyHMbi8uO6heoddTpyO-0BBZedIEuUakd3QkpEGOoWIS5EsjOwh4TsZRZvzUiCggj/s640/blogger-image-560412804.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUi1PDEk0CDleVkNMyfZmZSGVvxXY_aaMZ0dSK7DUYXYRBIXkIHpzND2Nojl4Gn8u6hIMHbNHIOqJEyHMbi8uO6heoddTpyO-0BBZedIEuUakd3QkpEGOoWIS5EsjOwh4TsZRZvzUiCggj/s640/blogger-image-560412804.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Sadly it's nowhere near as pretty as this origami flower but it's ticking all my functionality boxes.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">I'm ruddy faced and feeling a bit jumpy from the dexamethosone (AKA mini-speed). It alleviates the nausea but doesn't completely rid me of the craptastic chemo side effects that I'm becoming accustomed to.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizkZ7FaHl2b3FAEwjQ4HVa8J0dvOOvCYh0Mj0SKL9l_shAQSeLs_fEMcDf5N3EYnkLbpPKbY2suVnRWbKT2N4qpq0GQVYU_SZ_cmCpYK8cAuKKLikCl-MqW2M9IRvqAJkJOafKpZP2Rn-0/s640/blogger-image-435291510.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizkZ7FaHl2b3FAEwjQ4HVa8J0dvOOvCYh0Mj0SKL9l_shAQSeLs_fEMcDf5N3EYnkLbpPKbY2suVnRWbKT2N4qpq0GQVYU_SZ_cmCpYK8cAuKKLikCl-MqW2M9IRvqAJkJOafKpZP2Rn-0/s640/blogger-image-435291510.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">This was my position on Friday afternoon post-infusion....resting my weary head.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Note the stellar nails! A welcome side effect so far is that I've stopped biting my nails (I had resumed this woeful habit when I was first diagnosed). The thought of double ingesting the chemo drugs was enough to bring my nail biting to a screaming halt. Coupled with the suggestion of the chemo nurses to get myself to a nail bar pronto and Shellac the heck out of my fingers and toes was enough to get this Taurean racing off to the nearest franchise.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Another thing that has alleviated the after affects of this dose is that I got to open a few more of the pressies that my best friend in the entire universe sent over for me. Each one is packaged up separately for each chemo cycle. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgo2QnKqE1U2_osx4PalflIPUm1mTJHoX5LKHtkPvfJvoSmlIuTx9GhTf1Fm17Xm0CMjJiawklxIyIIAV3CJp16XAYw3AN0RUOILROjSMvgR2G4fbECmh4jRCrQYKWQQpInVbWsXNwj7tno/s640/blogger-image-1954401183.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgo2QnKqE1U2_osx4PalflIPUm1mTJHoX5LKHtkPvfJvoSmlIuTx9GhTf1Fm17Xm0CMjJiawklxIyIIAV3CJp16XAYw3AN0RUOILROjSMvgR2G4fbECmh4jRCrQYKWQQpInVbWsXNwj7tno/s640/blogger-image-1954401183.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Bracelet 1 made me smile....but when combined with this...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEX2XxJnP2Dq0CnzPcfh0WT8OPA62AKiI6e6n-13Xx3jFLuYScjq_HmgLQ_WbhDuPkAgtn4nAWuh6E3v7Tc4TuwX3KqDbK4Y7FIe_mrmuEo9fKHq_NFZFxELSU3z5FBSvScFgShjCeXFZZ/s640/blogger-image-613185837.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEX2XxJnP2Dq0CnzPcfh0WT8OPA62AKiI6e6n-13Xx3jFLuYScjq_HmgLQ_WbhDuPkAgtn4nAWuh6E3v7Tc4TuwX3KqDbK4Y7FIe_mrmuEo9fKHq_NFZFxELSU3z5FBSvScFgShjCeXFZZ/s640/blogger-image-613185837.jpg"></a></div><br></div>Bracelet 2 "Fierce" I laughed....I felt anything but fierce at that particular moment in time!!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxw-su3kicml6O6ex4LuEfHKp3CdRhbwJ4MoEAxtBBIyGBYUNXQIg7UGKH37-z2ElBXkHGOI4sYMUiIpVlsaWoS0PgzDlXLLo4vbS4kjlTNBg7jw_9_hnO-M9owJGw_ySKNpZbefvMkFVm/s640/blogger-image--454688394.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxw-su3kicml6O6ex4LuEfHKp3CdRhbwJ4MoEAxtBBIyGBYUNXQIg7UGKH37-z2ElBXkHGOI4sYMUiIpVlsaWoS0PgzDlXLLo4vbS4kjlTNBg7jw_9_hnO-M9owJGw_ySKNpZbefvMkFVm/s640/blogger-image--454688394.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">It's hard to separate what I loved more - the card (writing on the inside will remain private) or the lovely coin brooch....it's so special words don't describe it. It's another token to add to my growing collection of good luck charms given to me by thoughtful and kind friends and family.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">When I count my blessings I count all of them twice.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Monday night I'm off to hospital, origami cover and keyboard in hand. I am sure to suffer the dreaded imposter sydnrome that I don't deserve to be taking up a bed but my breast care nurse said she'd actually like that to be what I'm thinking because it would mean I'm feeling okay and that's the whole idea!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">My wonderful big sister is coming up (again) to help out Saint Mike and I with wrangling the KATs and I am really looking forward to seeing her. Yes this is the lull before the storm but I'm hopeful the storm won't be as bad as the last one:)</div><br></div><br></div><br></div><br></div>Libbyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05422169384250471413noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4244645562851686786.post-16379780871035592612013-11-01T02:01:00.001-07:002013-11-01T02:01:47.466-07:00Halloween<div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvnmIdHTdNns4RhagJqY5gbzXlIyk6s6SmOGqHkYjMaUdVBSdffs7IW2vuQJNe1LPvYaCl03klbThewXmjAIqLr1cMBwr6RYl_yz6phA8x4xdeZ-ixZodM0HOFMOQSW_iRRfwQW_YgHO-I/s640/blogger-image--1651597300.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvnmIdHTdNns4RhagJqY5gbzXlIyk6s6SmOGqHkYjMaUdVBSdffs7IW2vuQJNe1LPvYaCl03klbThewXmjAIqLr1cMBwr6RYl_yz6phA8x4xdeZ-ixZodM0HOFMOQSW_iRRfwQW_YgHO-I/s640/blogger-image--1651597300.jpg"></a></div><br></div>Things have been subdued over here in KATcapers land. Despite my best intentions my blogging continues to be sporadic.<div><br></div><div>Craptastic chemo was never going to be a beer and skittles affair. I knew that. I just hoped that I would get cut a few breaks when it came to side effects. Unfortunately each cycle thus far has featured its own drama. </div><div><br></div><div>Whilst my first visit to hospital was a fairly calm affair, my subsequent trip to the emergency room last week was less slightly more dramatic in that I was dehydrated and losing bodily fluids from both ends! Craptastic chemo is not only causing me kt have severe nausea but is also messing with my bowels something nasty!</div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKUnxZJcuwHvIVQgtTY8MJVIpo_VpLzGRlYBRqS0dnZjXIJk5aJ28DKMk7_8zaDXPvkHmq2kO-XRiWNyvbA2M9UHQihiQDEiG-JRcJMn-IZTqxDlKLjdtLdHUyoGTtFgHrCh1PaVSVq7cf/s640/blogger-image--1917232355.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKUnxZJcuwHvIVQgtTY8MJVIpo_VpLzGRlYBRqS0dnZjXIJk5aJ28DKMk7_8zaDXPvkHmq2kO-XRiWNyvbA2M9UHQihiQDEiG-JRcJMn-IZTqxDlKLjdtLdHUyoGTtFgHrCh1PaVSVq7cf/s640/blogger-image--1917232355.jpg"></a></div><br></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">It was distressing for all of us but I have been particularly concerned about the impact on the girls when I have to be rushed off to hospital. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">I seem to have one week out of three now where I'm relatively energetic (to a point) and so I am trying to busy myself with crafty pursuits to take my mind off the fact that I have an appointment with a canula every three weeks that I would prefer to skip!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Exhibit A is the above image - fabric covered canvas for a teacher at school who has a new grandchild. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPDaJPE8qn_dlWQiGBqOldTLVJCP0dwTrNYnKOS0WU5sn95eHKAzBKIxlqfLFx3FN5DtKYbjz8E1EAIrqdgkYQhHEE8pQK7BINC-oh0yynTF7p_OUbS_insJWw2OnLxoe4BlkW0zqElV7S/s640/blogger-image-374890182.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPDaJPE8qn_dlWQiGBqOldTLVJCP0dwTrNYnKOS0WU5sn95eHKAzBKIxlqfLFx3FN5DtKYbjz8E1EAIrqdgkYQhHEE8pQK7BINC-oh0yynTF7p_OUbS_insJWw2OnLxoe4BlkW0zqElV7S/s640/blogger-image-374890182.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Exhibit B was another fabric covered canvas made for another lady at school....as you can tell my innovation with a fabric covered canvas is a bottomless pit!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZRyinAVLPX8sGZqeRvAVKRjar7uZDgtabjSApEm61o28IV8-xjnQrWqJrxKuwFy0f7qCWXZ_97jkMyZJLPLG_uHYetrYn0qeT35Djc85bGiwei05eD7hjeIa8B2CZ1-YJN7LtLTn3Aco1/s640/blogger-image--1227876676.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZRyinAVLPX8sGZqeRvAVKRjar7uZDgtabjSApEm61o28IV8-xjnQrWqJrxKuwFy0f7qCWXZ_97jkMyZJLPLG_uHYetrYn0qeT35Djc85bGiwei05eD7hjeIa8B2CZ1-YJN7LtLTn3Aco1/s640/blogger-image--1227876676.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">I also managed to finish three shelves that I'd picked up from council cleanup - wallpaper found on Etsy and a few sample pots did the trick. My skills with a drill and a spirit level still need some work but I'm happy with the result.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFVJA7MPa0wy83XD03FM25y6LQyIeV9Dk71ca_xhtx0PuJWMlISF_u6Wip_GqVzv6TzgxwegJLrDy467DXGowCivExx2lFdivqeUegGaq1eg_DJGxGS7zpJwlqdZ0XetiNgGlZ21yFpaFt/s640/blogger-image-889908130.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFVJA7MPa0wy83XD03FM25y6LQyIeV9Dk71ca_xhtx0PuJWMlISF_u6Wip_GqVzv6TzgxwegJLrDy467DXGowCivExx2lFdivqeUegGaq1eg_DJGxGS7zpJwlqdZ0XetiNgGlZ21yFpaFt/s640/blogger-image-889908130.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Next chemo is November 8th and my oncologist has arranged for me to check into hospital on day 4 post-chemo to be attached to a drip and fed anti-nausea drugs and fluids to help me ride out what seems determined to be the week from hell each cycle. Hopefully this will be a calm and controlled process that we can ensure doesn't traumatise the girls and keeps me relatively healthy.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Halloween decorations will be the topic of my next post...even craptastic chemo can't subdue the frustrated event planner in me and I decorated up a storm...before collapsing in bed and missing the afternoons proceedings:)</div><br></div><br></div><br></div><br></div>Libbyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05422169384250471413noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4244645562851686786.post-82200381546076338942013-10-20T14:37:00.001-07:002013-10-20T14:37:33.115-07:00Lull in communication<div><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRbd5QEU3986U8gd-7lAZvVkn4IkRfKedEzcCbC_YDTa3YK7hqKGz28yIcOVdDADb2N1ohRQa69FYWSDPi1ZOmnjkFCmUXBMBTbRUSCGqeM1n5OMVJySICi3nt0cEsGrnqOoAU5cib_YMe/s640/blogger-image-1828451747.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRbd5QEU3986U8gd-7lAZvVkn4IkRfKedEzcCbC_YDTa3YK7hqKGz28yIcOVdDADb2N1ohRQa69FYWSDPi1ZOmnjkFCmUXBMBTbRUSCGqeM1n5OMVJySICi3nt0cEsGrnqOoAU5cib_YMe/s640/blogger-image-1828451747.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Apologies about my sudden radio silence. Round two of craptastic chemo didn't follow the anticipated gradient (upwards) and instead I seemed to lurch from one day to the next feeling nauseous and lacking in anything that could be described as energetic.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">It culminated in an overnight stay in hospital to have some fluids put in and some checks done to make sure there were no underlying issues with my bowel....it had decided to hog some of the limelight and was behaving rather badly! On strike and seemingly immune to whatever went in there to try to wake it up...and then suddenly deciding to have a hissy fit and make me seriously want to die due to the painful cramping and nasty business emanating from my nether regions.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxPJsRDfo_Aa0eROt5-WZ6-pmNzikRfuNTNWPf4-ov8CX5nbxpq_ChuzITG9IcdT4OkQY3cLrwUeZ9Mh5lSEjvZIStpDFlIFGjce88yJRp8CSt6FD66R0PeL9dTr9h_bvZ9g-xn7cesSCk/s640/blogger-image--1945331779.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxPJsRDfo_Aa0eROt5-WZ6-pmNzikRfuNTNWPf4-ov8CX5nbxpq_ChuzITG9IcdT4OkQY3cLrwUeZ9Mh5lSEjvZIStpDFlIFGjce88yJRp8CSt6FD66R0PeL9dTr9h_bvZ9g-xn7cesSCk/s640/blogger-image--1945331779.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">I have tried to adopt a more relaxed routine in an attempt to cooperate with my lovely oncologist so I took to teaching myself how to crochet with zpagetti. If you're unfamiliar with this phenomenon you should check it out! My friend who suggested it reminds me that it's perfect for a more "free form" expression....which translates to "missed stitches...who cares!!!".</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">It was frustrating and it took quite a few attempts before I mastered the stitches...I'm doing a cheats version of the magic circle (crochet speak). My first attempt was this....</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwLk7DO6O-qZ91Twa7xwSvKP7Na87QWQmSaPTxRSaY2mTR2ScsjIk6X0i_bjPkS-xTUnaP2WruBJ5Ocj0wOmvJ8NyW307uFa4PSaRk0lq0P3RLi4jiNRuHa0vnKdkfFmu2e6dkTdy-Fv2Q/s640/blogger-image-897441267.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwLk7DO6O-qZ91Twa7xwSvKP7Na87QWQmSaPTxRSaY2mTR2ScsjIk6X0i_bjPkS-xTUnaP2WruBJ5Ocj0wOmvJ8NyW307uFa4PSaRk0lq0P3RLi4jiNRuHa0vnKdkfFmu2e6dkTdy-Fv2Q/s640/blogger-image-897441267.jpg"></a></div><br></div>It was supposed to be a vessel but it started to look like a bottle cover so in the end I decided just to let it be:)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">The next attempt was much improved and is now sitting proudly where I can admire it regularly! I am just loving playing with the zpagetti colours (trying to contain how many colours I succumb to) and have been practising stars and flowers...even made a garland for my beautiful friend who introduced me to this therapy.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUj__fZUsqPDgzGeQqIT7LtVy4m9PMQfF7SSZ-vOCC993V9_ErrTfB0kWOzX5TbuEA1B75fIO_GKuNVdHOveMGqBTDIbk7PFGPeOslVDi7NvXQ4_utoJk5ivGW_UnN8GcOJn5hTl1i4rrP/s640/blogger-image--286580816.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUj__fZUsqPDgzGeQqIT7LtVy4m9PMQfF7SSZ-vOCC993V9_ErrTfB0kWOzX5TbuEA1B75fIO_GKuNVdHOveMGqBTDIbk7PFGPeOslVDi7NvXQ4_utoJk5ivGW_UnN8GcOJn5hTl1i4rrP/s640/blogger-image--286580816.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">So that was a great way of distracting you from how crappy I am feeling! Craptastic chemo round 3 was last Friday and I'm going to try and spend the day in bed giving my body the rest it needs.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhILZV1myK2DPg6zVJUP7RfuJBHg_aLASwoxFaU4Lz9pW1X0OOxrkspoOnfhjQRkYXlBx0XEFIh1qeQIKaiGGLvsd7AXF0eP4C64zFqGVmR5_qDZNxX6qktRcbCq2JeQuJTLZCL4K6-e-QG/s640/blogger-image--731473574.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhILZV1myK2DPg6zVJUP7RfuJBHg_aLASwoxFaU4Lz9pW1X0OOxrkspoOnfhjQRkYXlBx0XEFIh1qeQIKaiGGLvsd7AXF0eP4C64zFqGVmR5_qDZNxX6qktRcbCq2JeQuJTLZCL4K6-e-QG/s640/blogger-image--731473574.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div>Yes there was the happy chemo face on show....all I can do is keep smiling when I can and not focus too much on how much the after affects crush my spirit. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Round 3 of 7 done....in another week we will hit the half way mark. That's something to look forward to:)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div>Libbyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05422169384250471413noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4244645562851686786.post-34296761158229644972013-10-06T02:47:00.001-07:002013-10-06T02:50:26.837-07:00Boldly bald<div><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdNnjFQKzxHADtDetzBL5Y3O-2wL3sSPTSfZZVwacHybV4gnrFvB3K5yc0ADMf-aO_2pshWpc5mXwYzqmImq691VJLQh1aFh_aWvsoARUNXoAHQGilgFCVcl_SdhIaP3xcj9qhPO7K7KtW/s640/blogger-image-2070414735.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdNnjFQKzxHADtDetzBL5Y3O-2wL3sSPTSfZZVwacHybV4gnrFvB3K5yc0ADMf-aO_2pshWpc5mXwYzqmImq691VJLQh1aFh_aWvsoARUNXoAHQGilgFCVcl_SdhIaP3xcj9qhPO7K7KtW/s640/blogger-image-2070414735.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Sounds obvious doesn't it? It is a no brainer that people stare at a bald person. I think it's human nature and I was prepared for it.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">I've always suffered from the "what are people thinking" disease. It's kept my imposter syndrome and inferiority complex company back there in the musty recesses of my self conscious. Courtesy of many years of employing cognitive behaviour therapy to counter these snarling beasts of my mind <span style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); ">I have learnt that it is more helpful to challenge those inner voices. I have found that countering them with alternatives works. The conversation goes along the lines of:</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); "><br></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); ">"Its All About Me" inner voice: "Oh shit. Starer alert! They're probably thinking I'm so up myself. Why doesn't she cover her bald head up. Why did I think it was okay to go around the shopping centre bald?"</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469);">"Get over yourself you nutter" inner voice: "Pleeeeeeeeaaaaaase! It's a bald head. Of course there'll be a few double takes. For all you know they have a thing for bald women or they're wondering if you're making a fashion statement".</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469);"><br></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469);"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5bRbdNw5NbNowT89pCvBji96JOhQj9iOdQOm8RLQooRyMOC_sS6EhZ__O5EMITcbARO6rZ21eiaFjdvAInoJKXtv3PYDPI9iR1bh6UQqph0SM5Pg7hz5JjIoaIzYYRxIqU70otwaG8xdr/s640/blogger-image-1408867540.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5bRbdNw5NbNowT89pCvBji96JOhQj9iOdQOm8RLQooRyMOC_sS6EhZ__O5EMITcbARO6rZ21eiaFjdvAInoJKXtv3PYDPI9iR1bh6UQqph0SM5Pg7hz5JjIoaIzYYRxIqU70otwaG8xdr/s640/blogger-image-1408867540.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">All jokes aside I did go out rocking a headscarf for the first couple of outings. I found a YouTube clip where a woman shows a great way of reusing old TShirts as head wraps (you cut them off under the armpits and wrap it around your head creating a great base for adding scarves etc. I liked it. I did it with a white one and a grey one. Thing is though it's a tad hot at the moment and I'm finding that my head (both physically and psychologically) prefers to be unencumbered.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">The analogy I used with Oldest KAT when I decided midway through the week to stalk the shopping centre boldly bald was that I'm the type of person that when confronted with the cold pool would prefer to jump in the deep end and immerse myself fully rather than dither around sitting on the edge, dipping my toe in ever so gingerly. Much better to feel that momentary clench of coldness grip me and then have it over and done with that inch my way in gritting my teeth.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgZMdHxU9_I3lPjOnCVYRF8YdGsTcBPmmXXM7fx5AlINU488ukSiyiryvDo0OZfHcMgGp9VbatKvtbDe7Pr_QMGHS8g0MURT3l05ZSmMj0X1zwlF3MmyZrWsIap-vueIBFo1CHzjvzrjEq/s640/blogger-image-114642098.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgZMdHxU9_I3lPjOnCVYRF8YdGsTcBPmmXXM7fx5AlINU488ukSiyiryvDo0OZfHcMgGp9VbatKvtbDe7Pr_QMGHS8g0MURT3l05ZSmMj0X1zwlF3MmyZrWsIap-vueIBFo1CHzjvzrjEq/s640/blogger-image-114642098.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">It was confronting entering the shopping centre with my vulnerability on full display. It did require me to do some kick-arse on-the-go CBT to banish the voices that urged me to run for cover (literally). It wasn't only the eyes of nameless onlookers. The eyes of the KATs were also absorbing both people's reactions to me and my response....would I fold like a cheap hammock?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Pleasingly I found it liberating to be boldly bald. I have had compliments which are lovely, my doctor also suggested I had better have my Gaydar on high alert as I'm likely to attract attention. Who knew that Lesbians like bald? Feel free to educate me on this so I can educate my doctor.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Accessories are in my DNA. Being a cancer-suffering wallflower was never on the agenda so out have come the scarves, hats and earrings.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhi7ut1tZbWbMjGZ2Yfdg3pJ1W20DlivlNowJyly1Zs8GJs2A0fkBRjBlXD-gN2jehlnmdGAOvO_TiBe8EGIGE-DiWEnxqR8XGkrPzv1tqyBQxXK30lpgkW7yk1wbSdJAMlr81urA4Djypa/s640/blogger-image-2077616123.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhi7ut1tZbWbMjGZ2Yfdg3pJ1W20DlivlNowJyly1Zs8GJs2A0fkBRjBlXD-gN2jehlnmdGAOvO_TiBe8EGIGE-DiWEnxqR8XGkrPzv1tqyBQxXK30lpgkW7yk1wbSdJAMlr81urA4Djypa/s640/blogger-image-2077616123.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">There are definitely downsides to baldness which I will elaborate on in my next post but for now let's stick with the way it is already challenging my personal paradigm. I finished this weekend with a relaxing afternoon at the local pool where I walked around with my sun screened noggin glinting in the sun when I was making my way to the pool. I ignored the stares and just enjoyed the glorious sun and the equally glorious water that was so healing for my soul one week post-chemo when I've hit the wall and feel like I can't take anymore headaches and nausea.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">What strangers think of me is the least of my issues.</div></div><br></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469);"><br></span></div>Libbyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05422169384250471413noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4244645562851686786.post-30100050627804527102013-10-02T00:17:00.001-07:002013-10-02T00:22:22.780-07:00Revealing the noggin<div>
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So here we have it. The noggin reveal. Despite the nausea that accompanied the weekend post-chemo I had decided that I wasn't going to delay the inevitable. My rapidly thinning hair needed to be put out of its misery.<br />
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On Saturday Saint Mike was charged with procuring a set of clippers when he took the girls out to the local shopping centre for a movie. On Sunday morning it was me who unpacked them and plugged them into their charger. Like most mere men, task completion can be the undoing of my husband.</div>
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The cape is a child-sized version acquired as a visual prop to enforce the "hair must be tied up or cut" rule which Youngest KAT was resisting some months back. It has sat unopened as have the scissors purchased at the same time...who said dire threats don't work?</div>
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We all congregated on the back lawn as I thought it a good idea to avoid sweeping up. However when Sally (the dog) started picking up chunks of hair it became a mad scramble for the girls to collect all the "bits" less we poison the dog with my chemo-laden hair. Quite the comedy act with peals of laughter no less.</div>
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Saint Mike seemed to take a perverse pleasure in his role as wielder of the clippers. A running commentary was given by the KATs regarding how daddy was giving mummy a Mohawk...then it became a tuft of hair which he insisted would be a good look.</div>
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Perhaps it was the flurry of activity (a confused dog chasing your hair around the lawn with three children in hot pursuit) but I didn't feel distressed. I was self conscious and felt immediately unattractive (note to self - black plastic cape isn't flattering) and I regretted that I had not stage managed this a bit better. Nausea will do that I suppose.</div>
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I felt strongly that we should do it as a family. I could have gone to the hairdressers and revealed my baldness to the KATs post-clip but having experienced their differing reactions to my pre-chemo chop I felt that immersing them in the process was for the best. Thankfully it worked.</div>
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Each of them reacted in their own way. Oldest KAT exhibited typical teen repulsion (yuck factor) but she is also painfully self-aware of how I appear now to the world and she was immediately worried for me.</div>
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Middle KAT was predictably reticent to say anything lest she reveal either her own anguish that I am suffering from this disease at all or that she might hurt my feelings by saying something "wrong". Wry smiles and gentle caresses were the order of the day.</div>
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Youngest KAT was tentative...it was the tactile that was front of mind for her....how will it "feel" when she touches it. Prickly is the answer!</div>
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This image captures the thoughts and feelings that were fluttering down around us. As someone said on my Facebook page - I am cherished and surrounded by love.</div>
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I'm now into my fourth day as a bald eagle and my next post will reflect on how it feels to face the world with my remarkably smooth billiard cue.</div>
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Libbyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05422169384250471413noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4244645562851686786.post-21615297959132876792013-09-28T17:22:00.001-07:002013-09-28T17:22:29.933-07:00I'd rather be here<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0HJGAODZEqvY_9jlDjJhtq073hHtKH4Y8IAC5Hu3TSbZ326F9UAt1x2dKyiNIXVKGDZ3vxEtFBC_DTZZrKpzFUqOx_2UUFgZ98yHY2a8oI4AkN5hhiWswUW9iv1nJJbEYvaE9KUmt8b8w/s640/blogger-image-483949579.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0HJGAODZEqvY_9jlDjJhtq073hHtKH4Y8IAC5Hu3TSbZ326F9UAt1x2dKyiNIXVKGDZ3vxEtFBC_DTZZrKpzFUqOx_2UUFgZ98yHY2a8oI4AkN5hhiWswUW9iv1nJJbEYvaE9KUmt8b8w/s640/blogger-image-483949579.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">I'd rather be feeling the cool water licking my body this morning. Instead the only thing licking my body is the constant waves of nausea that are effectively making me feel sea sick! </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">I have taken my third capsule of magic meds that are supposed to render the nausea inert but this morning it is truly awful. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Saint Mike has vacated the house with the KATs and taken them off for the swim that I really want...maybe I should drive after them? I'd like to but chundering out the window may not be a good look and although the water will be a blessing, the noisy children sharing the pool will do nothing to dull the roar that is occupying my head.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Yes this is day 3 post-chemo and like the first round it truly stinks...it's also going to be the day the girls and Saint Mike shave my head.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Post with photos will follow...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">(Image credit - Martine Emdur painting)</div>Libbyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05422169384250471413noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4244645562851686786.post-46900694779827253922013-09-27T04:14:00.001-07:002013-09-27T04:14:00.028-07:00Getting back on the chemo horseThis morning I stood in the shower staring blankly at my hands covered equally in shampoo suds and my hair. Every day I have gingerly touched my hair waiting for it to give up the follicular ghost. <div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiflGKdwnHlijKJXRV_omn7bulGNEkTmpBzLN7RoNo1nleXsgK0hZQ7aV9GsnqsN7VBDN5ixhlFoQ2ppPsUCT4T8w74tm-3GQiWBZzcqtAegfHcs2dtCg0_wyCP-w1Si5tQCpYmbkW1NMuE/s640/blogger-image--1860211387.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiflGKdwnHlijKJXRV_omn7bulGNEkTmpBzLN7RoNo1nleXsgK0hZQ7aV9GsnqsN7VBDN5ixhlFoQ2ppPsUCT4T8w74tm-3GQiWBZzcqtAegfHcs2dtCg0_wyCP-w1Si5tQCpYmbkW1NMuE/s640/blogger-image--1860211387.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div><br></div><div>As I mentioned in my last post I had even started to feel a bit of imposter syndrome creeping in as the days passed and I was not bald!</div><div><br></div><div>I had rationalised that as my 1st chemo session had been such a debacle I had been spared losing my hair and it would happen in the next few weeks post my new FEC cocktail commencing. So as I showered this morning with my head full of "worry" about what the day would bring in the chemo-lucky-dip department I absent-mindedly shampooed my hair. Seeing that amount of hair come away without even a whimper (no discomfort felt at all) was truly perplexing. Almost in disbelief I shampooed for a 2nd time and sure enough more hair fell out. </div><div><br></div><div>I felt a bit bewildered to be honest. It's odd how even though I knew it was going to happen the timing just caught me by surprise. In order to give the KATs plenty of forewarning I called them in and gave them the news. Oldest KAT seemed unperturbed as did Littlest KAT. Not unsurprisingly Middle KAT did her best to be stoic but was clearly perturbed.</div><div><br></div><div>Annoyingly I couldn't spend the entire day pondering the imminent reveal of my scone as I had my chemo appointment to get to! So I ignored the hair mounting on the floor, in the basin and on the counter (note to self - white corian bench top is a VERY bad idea!).</div><div><br></div><div>I chose to dress in super bright spring colours today to counter the feelings of anxiety that could have swamped me if permitted. I'm trying to stetch my blogging skills so created this collage of the outfit...wasn't up for photos today!</div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWluhMhs60tRwQFiAZwpdteQghaInD_IpsfruOOgkPdU8xhikWL9Q3dxO9jK-dIyiq9MUslmqlERx60_5NP2xtVF3uxm9KCrYL0xMxG5lNr08c7TawRTVK-APCHoPP8_Li2fKR0BHN9EiM/s640/blogger-image--855001183.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWluhMhs60tRwQFiAZwpdteQghaInD_IpsfruOOgkPdU8xhikWL9Q3dxO9jK-dIyiq9MUslmqlERx60_5NP2xtVF3uxm9KCrYL0xMxG5lNr08c7TawRTVK-APCHoPP8_Li2fKR0BHN9EiM/s640/blogger-image--855001183.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div>It wouldn't be me if the chemo clogs didn't get an outing! My nails are also currently coral pink/orange shellac:)</div><div><br></div><div>The top looks blah but in actual fact it's a really nice lime green and I love it with the coral.</div><div><br></div><div>I'll post in more detail on how the actual chemo went but in short I'm home, I'm on an anti-nausea drug that doesn't give me lock jaw and a nasty metallic taste in my mouth. I am wiped out and am going to stay in bed and rest as long as my body tells me it needs to (thank goodness for another week of school holidays).</div><div><br></div><div>Over and out from my own personal pharmacy!!!</div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2mU0hnjw1uGglCJw2napE5GOf87XyUfFEqq1RWONf5JYrFWfXJJdP4fYvj6OfMy_2wDGFNGeGrC6m1WTNK08G-nbHw82tAgiAWbaH3efMBp8wvnmF2JW7mPmJYB1HJXUnF2c9qu63QFXn/s640/blogger-image-2004981780.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2mU0hnjw1uGglCJw2napE5GOf87XyUfFEqq1RWONf5JYrFWfXJJdP4fYvj6OfMy_2wDGFNGeGrC6m1WTNK08G-nbHw82tAgiAWbaH3efMBp8wvnmF2JW7mPmJYB1HJXUnF2c9qu63QFXn/s640/blogger-image-2004981780.jpg"></a></div><br></div>Libbyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05422169384250471413noreply@blogger.com2