The last few weeks of radiation, I felt completely shut down. I was tired, that was a given. I was sore, also a given and I knew that what we were going to have to put Beanie down, the saddest of all my givens. Near the end of treatment, I found I just couldn’t talk to anyone. The words had left me, and I think more than anything I just got tired of listening to myself talking to other humans.
“My dog is sick, I am sick. I feel tired all the time. I have this stupid swelling under my arm. Blah, blah, blah, blah.”
I found it easier to read, knit, watch tv and wait for it to change.
“It had to change didn’t it?”
“When God closes a door, he opens a window. This too shall pass.”
Something had to give.
When, I finished radiation, more than anything I wanted to just get the hell out of New York. I wanted and needed things to change. I was tired of our hiding in our little apartment, and the sadness that felt like it had been going on so long that it had permeated into the walls.
For the most part, I like myself, but the last few weeks of radiation, I found that I was tired of being me. This felt pretty aggravating considering that I spent 43 years working on becoming a me that I could live with. Grrr.
We were about 6 months overdue for our annual trip down to Georgia, and the “to do list” down in Georgia was about a mile long. It’s crazy how stuff piles up,
My driver’s license was expired, Frankie was overdue for his yearly shots, and both of our passports needed to be renewed.
In addition to that, one of the vain items on my to do list was cleaning out my closet. When we moved back to New York, I had left the majority of my clothes down in Macon, especially the skinny ones. In 2006, I had bought a pair of size 8 black pants that looked fantastic on me (for the month and a half that they actually fit) and I was dying to try them on again.
I also wanted to go through my yarn stash and make sure that I had accidently left a skein of cashmere laying around. As it turns out, I didn’t. But I did find some really cute clothes when I went through the closet, and the black pants fit perfectly. Unfortunately, my day of cleaning out my closet caused the seroma under my arm to swell up yet again. It was back to the size of a golf ball, and I spent the first week in Macon in agonizing pain. The first few days, I tried taking 800mg of Advil every 6 hours, but finally I called my surgeon and she told me I need to go the emergency room.
I felt like I was dying the first day after they aspirated. After spending some quality time and the foot of our toilet, I was finally I was able to sleep. I ended up sleeping on and off for 24 hours.
Thankfully, the next day a I felt better, and several days after the trip to the emergency room, I felt well enough to visit my friend Mrs. M.
Mrs. M. is around 75 (?). As our visit was coming to an end, she asked me she could pray for me. I, of course, said “yes.” It’s funny thing with me and God the last 4 months, I haven’t been able to pray and I have felt even less like going to church, but I knew Mrs. M. would do right by me. She asked God to heal the “thing” under my arm, and I am happy to report that it’s been almost three weeks and the damn “thing” hasn’t swelled up. I have even started doing a light yoga practice again. It still feels like I have a walnut under my arm, but I am hoping it’s healed up enough that I won’t have to go back under the knife.
On this same visit, I met and fell in love with:
She came from a liter of kittens that had found it’s way under Mrs. M.’s son’s house.
DH & I have been talking for a few months about what we would do when Beanie passed.Frankie has always had another animal to keep him company, and I was worried he would be really lonely during the day when were both working.
I also worried that the apartment in Brooklyn would feel very lonely without Beanie. Beanie is the only pet that I have officially adopted. Every other animal I have had, just arrived. I believe in arrivals, and I believe in fate. I was prepared to go to an animal shelter to look for our newest family member, but I was hoping for an appearance.
When I went home from visiting Mrs. M. I showed DH pictures of the kitten.
“Isn’t she perfect? Wouldn’t she make a perfect playmate for Frankie?"
Don’t you think we should go grab her before someone else does?”
Once again, I found myself hating the sound of my own voice. At 43, I should be able to say, “I want this cat, and we are going to get her.” Instead, I found myself begging, pleading and cajoling.
DH’s response to my whining was to say the cat was cute, and MAYBE we could pick her up after we got back from Florida.
“MAYBE?”
Grrrr. Adults really get to me when I am feeling childish.
When we got back from Florida, I began my cat campaign again. I am happy to report that although it took a couple days, DH finally succumbed to my childish antics.
We kicked around a few names before landing on Lucy.
For about 6 hours we were calling her Ki Ki, because she makes a strange ki-ki noise when you pick her up, but then I looked Ki-ki up. My favorite definition came from the urban dictionary:
"When two drag queen have sex (hook up) with each other.
Girl, I saw Shelita Buffet and Shanita Quit leaving after the show, together. I bet there was some scary ki ki going on at that house."
Yikes! That’s a lot for a little kitten to live up to.
The only knitting project I finished on vacation was a pair of “vanilla socks.”
I am about 2/3 of the way through the odelia cardigan. It’s knit bottom up and I knit the sleeves two at a time. Altough, I am very proud of this sweater because the yarn I am using for is 9 years old, I am also terrified I am going to run out of yarn before I finish. I have been working on it non-stop so that if I do run out, I can justify the lost knitting time. Somehow it sounds better to say, "It's okay that I ran out of yarn, it was only a vacation project versus I spent four months working on it, and then realized I didn't have enough yarn."
Working on it non stop has slowed up my process on the Luciole.
I am on the last chart, but at this rate it will take me another four months to finish.
I also played with my spindolyn spindle on vacation. I can’t say enough how much I love this spindle.
The last 6 months I have really been trying to master the long draw. The spindolyn is great because if I screw up, the worst thing that happens is the spindle stops. I can also switch to a modified long draw if the fiber starts to get to thick or thin. I also like it because Ican lay on the couch (or in a lounge chair) and spin.
Really though, my favorite project right now is Lucy.
