Vindication (Go, Margaret!)

My local news at noon included a brief story about a study that confirmed curcumin kills cancer cells. By the time I reached the mute button, the story was almost over. The details are not yet at their website, but I'll keep watching. If you're a myeloma patient and you're not reading Margaret's blog yet... what are you waiting for?

Happy Hump Day

I can't seem to sleep more than 3-4 hours at a stretch unless I knock myself out with sleeping pills. Then I go to the other extreme: sleep 8-10 hours, wobbly and foggy for several more hours. But I usually settle for those 3-4 hours and get in a nap or two during the day. If it's after 4 am, I just get up and start my day. Sometimes Molly gets up with me, more often she gives me a "yer nuts!" kind of look, and sleeps for another 2 hours.

Today, I was up at 4:30am with my usual three wake-up calls: bladder, bone pain, and night sweats. By the time I relieved myself and got out of a soaking nightgown, I knew I'd be up for the day. That's okay; I actually have a couple things to do today and I've decided I do much better with a list rather than just let the days slide by. I have to make a very rare trek to Walbarf, finish making some soup I started yesterday, and sweep the whole house. Things are going to start growing out of the floor soon if I don't.

Speaking of barfy, I got the high sign: I qualify to stay on the Clinical Trial, at least for the time being. That's a big relief. Much as I dislike the nausea, I have three big reasons to stay with the program. 1) There are no steroids on this particular trial. (Cue Hallelujah Chorus) 2) The drug is in pill form. I'm getting to be a very "hard stick" from 1.5 years of steroids... and 3) I'm nauseous but not actually barfing. I find nausea (barely) bearable, barfing is not. So...yay me!

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OOPSY! Mom sent a concerned note upon reading Afraid So. "I don't remember reading anything as down, as depressing, as cheerless." Wow - I was so surprised -- I actually laughed out loud when I read it. I wrote back that I'd thought the poem was hilarious, that it was very tongue-in-cheek, a funny perspective on pessimism. (I admit to wondering if I sometimes sound like that!) Apologies to Mom and to everyone who found the poem to be a huge downer. That truly wasn't my intention and I'll double-filter my selections in the future.

Of course, Mom concluded, "I hope that that poem didn't bring you down like it did me. I think I'll go drink some spoiled milk and walk on some crushed glass. That ought to make me feel better." Hmmm. Where do you think my sense of humor came from?

Afraid So

by Jeanne Marie Beaumont
from Curious Conduct. © BOA Editions, Ltd., 2004

Is it starting to rain?
Did the check bounce?
Are we out of coffee?
Is this going to hurt?
Could you lose your job?
Did the glass break?
Was the baggage misrouted?
Will this go on my record?
Are you missing much money?
Was anyone injured?
Is the traffic heavy?
Do I have to remove my clothes?
Will it leave a scar?
Must you go?
Will this be in the papers?
Is my time up already?
Are we seeing the understudy?
Will it affect my eyesight?
Did all the books burn?
Are you still smoking?
Is the bone broken?
Will I have to put him to sleep?
Was the car totaled?
Am I responsible for these charges?
Are you contagious?
Will we have to wait long?
Is the runway icy?
Was the gun loaded?
Could this cause side effects?
Do you know who betrayed you?
Is the wound infected?
Are we lost?
Will it get any worse?
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Life's full of questions; doesn't it seem that "afraid so" is too often the answer? Afraid so...

Ms. Beaumont's bio says that this poem was made into a short film by award-winning filmmaker Jay Rosenblatt. I'm intrigued: I'll have to check at Netflix and hope that their reply is not "Afraid not."

Go See...

Dollar Store Crafts offers a fun craft idea complete with easy instructions: the Alien Abduction Lamp. I love it!

Crafters share ideas and sources at Tip Junkie.

Clever ideas and designs as well as Freebies from some talented, crafty designers.

Helen Back

Monday, aka Day 28, spent in the hospital, wasn't nearly as grueling as the first time. For starters, I brought my own breakfast, lunch and dinner. It's amazing that they serve such spectacularly bad food. It's almost like non-food, or negative food. And they serve it to people who are already sick enough to be in a hospital! I also think that I was so sick, it just drained a lot of the contrariness out of my system. I made an effort to get out of bed every couple of hours and walk around the ward for a few minutes instead of laying there like a beached whale (as I did before and after) and maybe that helped pass the time. Still, there's nothing like a day in the hospital to give you fresh appreciation for life outside the hospital.

Sis had me back home in time for the last half of Dancing With the Stars. Still too much hype and too many bad dancers. I really like the show better after they've thinned the herd to the best 3-4 couples.

Then I spent the night wide awake. I'd napped most of the day and the doc has started me on another antibiotic and a steroid dose pack. Ding! Ding! Ding! It's Crazy Steroid Lady! (cue Psycho violins - rhee RHEE rhee!). And of course I had night sweats and bone pain and just all kinds of fun. By morning I was cranky, sleepy, sweaty, crazy -- I was like all Seven Dwarves compressed into one. Just add water.

That was my frame of mind as Torment Day 2 began at 8 am. Phase 2 of the Villa's Great Remodel Debacle was replacing 10 windows. I would rather have repaired the old wooden windows but from a resale standpoint, it's a no-brainer: everybody wants new, easy, vinyl windows. I found a young guy, a real motivated go-getter who's starting his own remodeling business and was very highly recommended. Well, bless his heart, he was here with his crew at 7:59 am, ready to go. And every minute for the rest of the day, there was noise, chaos, dirt, sawing, hammering and hollering.

The icing, the highlight, was a giant air compressor parked in my kitchen, to power their pneumatic hammers. Every 15-20 minutes this thing would go off, only for about 20 seconds, but the noise was... I don't know, maybe like standing three inches from a foghorn? I don't even know how to describe just how loud this monster was, except to say I was surprised my ears weren't bleeding. Sis was here to attest that I had to be physically scraped off the ceiling if it happened to go off when I was actually in the kitchen. There were four workers and by 5 pm they had replaced 9 of the 10 (one has to be remade). Which is great, because I'm sure two days of that would have killed me.

And today the house painters arrived. Because they didn't bother bringing me the samples until this morning, I had to look at them and make a decision on the spot. It's a little unnerving to have lived in a white house for 20+ years, and then have to pick a color in 20+ seconds. But they wanted to start today, and so did I. They weren't nearly as loud as the window guys, but it's still been 8+ hours of paint sprayer, clanking ladder, and boombox blaring country music. Throughout, I'm still horribly sick, and congested, and back-achey and now crazy sleep-deprived. Just for giggles, I threw in a Rosacea outbreak, yeah, love that purple face o' mine. (I think in football, it's called "piling on?")

It's supposed to rain for the next 4 days and I really, REALLY want to have this over and done with. I have completely abandoned the idea of remodeling the kitchen; I think it's going to take every bit of 6 months to try and grow some nerve endings back again. But Hell Week is almost half over. That alone is reason to celebrate.
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Manifold, myriad, multiple thanks to Gracie and her parents for keeping Molly with them until Tuesday night. What would I do without them? I can't even imagine.

Day 28

Hi, ho. Hi, ho. It's off to the hospital I go. Day 28 (Monday) will be another 12-hour marathon with 6 blood draws and another bone marrow biopsy. Sis will bring me and spend the morning, as she did last time. A real trooper.

Meanwhile, I'm sick, sick, sick. The Z-pack did nothing for me so it's either viral or a very resistant bug. Whatever - I'm sick of being sick. Sick of having my right ear plugged up. Sick of blowing my nose every 12 seconds. (It's no consolation that everyone else is sick, too. They all seem to be getting better.)

I'm supposed to have guys here replacing a half dozen windows on Tuesday, in preparation for having my house painted Wednesday or Thursday. And then, I'm putting all home remodeling projects on hold for awhile. Bad timing, the hallmark, the cornerstone of my life.

Until then, I'm just a'blowin' and a'humming: Urp on the Water, Urpway to Heaven.

Urp To My Lou

Remember when stores used to put the price on the item? Now they put the price on the shelf, and when you check out at the register, you'll be appalled -- if you're paying attention -- at how often the computer gets it wrong. To reassure their customers, Krogers instituted a policy that if the register comes up with a different price than the shelf price, you get the item for free. (If you've bought more than one, subsequent items will be sold at the shelf price.) I get at least 1-2 items per week free. Hit the jackpot today: a bag of frozen chicken breasts said $5.99 on the shelf, but rang up at $9.99! As long as I still have a good (if selective) memory and Krogers has this policy, it's like having a part time job.

Now, the office staff does make you wait while they verify the shelf price. Most of the time, it's just last week's sale tag that someone has forgotten to take down. It seemed like a long wait today, and I was hangin' 10 on the crest of a nausea white cap. So I amused myself with my latest distraction: thinking up songs where I can substitute "Urp" or "York" for one of the words. Like Free Urp ("Free Bird"), York ("More"), Urp River, and my favorite, Urpy ("Windy"). The object of the game is to just hang on until the urge to hurl has passed.