Momma! I miss a bus!!


Every single morning this little Angel "misses" the bus. It's so innocent and somewhat pitiful. I feel so bad for her. She wants to go to school so badly.


When her 2 big brothers go out to the bus stop in front of our house, she watches them from the door or window. And when they get on the bus and begin to drive away,
she turns and says, "Oh, NO! Momma! I miss a bus!!!!"

And, she's so serious. At first it was hard not to laugh, but now, well now it's just sad.

WARNING: If you are MALE, you should skip this post!!! You've been WARNED!!!!

Seriously, here is your TMI warning......








So, I debated on whether or not to blog this. It's not like it's that offensive or that bad. But, I was worried it might be over the top for my blog. So, when I called one friend, she just laughed with me (which I expected) and laughed when I said I was thinking of blogging it. And when I talked to another good friend, she laughed her butt off. I told her I was thinking of blogging it, but was worried it might be too "over the top" for my blog and she said, "Really? Haven't you already taken your blog over the top?!!!"


HA HA HA!!! Point Taken!!

(Thanks for the encouragement.......I don't even know why I was worried.)




I guess because the subject is so taboo. But, really, isn't poop a taboo subject? And we already covered that one...... And honestly, I think it's dumb that nobody talks about it. That's why I have to ask dumb questions at the age of 38. If we did talk about it, then I'd know already. I mean, really, don't all women under the age of 55-60 (with a few exceptions) have to deal with these things every single month?!


As far as my pre-pubescent information, I only really knew what I had to know. Although I don't remember the exact moment my mom told me about my upcoming period, I'm sure she did. (And in an interesting turn of fate, I got my first period just after I turned 12, in the summer, while visiting my grandparents for 2 weeks and yes, I was wearing WHITE SHORTS. Yes, seriously.And then, my Grandma took me to the store, gave me $5 and told me to buy what I needed. Umm.....talk about overwhelming.....)

**ok....stop laughing at me**


And there was "the movie" at school. (which my son just had in May for the end of the 5th grade year - and for the record, yesterday, the pediatrician tells me he's in the 2nd phase of puberty.....EEEEEK! He's only 11!!)


And lastly, some of my "pre-puberty" comfort/information came from The book by Judy Blume. Didn't we all just about stalk the elementary
school librarian, just waiting for someone to return this book, so we could check it out?!?! I know I did. Whose with me here?!?!?! Ha ha ha!


So, here we go.....


Many of my close friends already know that I don't do tampons.


I have never been properly taught about them. Meaning, my mom was always so afraid of getting the Toxic Shock Syndrome that she never used them, so therefore, I never used them. I never even really knew much about them.....because of "the fear" of the TSS. Now, I'm not trying to downplay the fact that there was a large number of women who got TSS and became very ill and died in the early 1980's. It happened and it was serious and it scared a lot of women. And this is what fueled my mother's very realistic fears.


From what I understand, this TSS that my mom worried about then, is very rare now. And you can reduce your chances of having a problem by following the safety rules of tampon usage. You can find those here..........


And did you know that only 50% of TSS cases are actually related to menstruating women? I found this very interesting. I thought it was 100% limited to menstruating women. But, that is not so. Read here.


So, even with all that information aside, I have been extremely reluctant over the years to embrace the tampon. Part of it was lack of the knowledge of "exactly" how to use it. Part of it was fear. Part of it was due to a bad first experience. More on that last one in a minute...


When I went to college, I lived in a dorm. And so many of my dorm mates were completely surprised that I had not ever used a tampon. And, of course, I was so naive, I even thought using a tampon had something to do with whether or not you have had sex. How dumb is that?! But, I never admitted that out loud, because I didn't want to embarrass myself or offend anyone. So, because I was a virgin, I had no interest in learning about tampons. I even believed I couldn't use them for that reason. Like I said, I was very naive.


Eventually, when I was a Sophomore in College, I was engaged to a very intelligent guy from a very open family. He couldn't believe that I had never used a tampon. And because I was still a virgin, I didn't feel it was a possibility. And when I confessed to him my belief that tampon usage was related to chastity, he couldn't believe it. So, one time when he went to the store, he picked up a box of the most expensive tampons for me. (I know, it seems weird, but we were very close and as much as my period was a pain in my rear, he was only trying to make things better for me.) Anyway, with my new tampons and some encouragement from him.....I decided to try them one night while he was at night class and I was studying at his apartment alone.

So, after I intensely studied the instructions from the box, I gathered every ounce of courage I had and I tried to "use" the tampon. Not having any experience or practical knowledge, I emerged from the bathroom and I was surprised how "uncomfortable" it was. But, I had just defiled myself (in my eyes) and had no idea what to expect. So, I figure I must be just freaking out and go downstairs to study. Within minutes, I was in pain. Not shooting pain, but the kind of pain that you just know something is not right. I decide I just need to calm down. I try to sit on the couch. It hurts. I try to sit on the bed. It hurts. I am panicking. I'm sweating. And I don't know what to do. I decide to try to ignore it. I must just be acting like a big baby about this whole thing. But, no matter where I try to sit, I hurt. Finally, desperate,
I call a close friend who lives 3 hours away, but a girl older than me and a girl I trust. I am bawling by now. Once she calms me down to stop crying,
I explain my dilemma. Missy explains to me that the tampon is not "in" all the way and that I need to push it up.

And I reply, "With what?!"

Missy says, "With your finger, of course." I FREAK OUT. Remember, I am extremely naive and I had no intention of doing that.

So, I tell her, "That's it, I'm taking it out."

To which, Missy replies, "How long has it been in?"

And I say, "About 30 minutes. Why?"

Missy says, "Well, you can try, but it's going to be hard to do it and
it's really going to hurt."

And I start to sob again. "But, how can it hurt more than it already does?"

Missy says, "Trust me, it can. Try to wait a while longer before you take it out. But, I'd try to push it in first so it will stop hurting until you can take it out."

So, with a quick thank you, I hang up the phone and head to the bathroom.

I decide that I am through with this tampon and that sucker is coming out.

So, gathering as much or more courage than it took to place it.....I grab the string and try to gently remove it. I'm so scared, I'm already bawling my eyeballs out. OH. MY. HELL. It felt like I was trying to rip the insides of me out!!! Missy was right, it was torture. But now, it REALLY hurt, because I had moved it and it had moved into an even worse position.

So, there was really no choice, I had to attempt to get it in it's correct position. So, I try to stop bawling long enough to "get the job done," but I can't seem to control my sobbing. So, shaking like a leaf, I tried to remedy the problem. But, I'm still a little too conservative with my attempt to fix the problem. And it's still clear to me that something is still not right.

So, I cry and cry and wait another 1 1/2 hours (the recommended time Missy said to wait before trying to remove it again) and head to the bathroom. To my surprise, this time the experience is without as much drama as before. But, the emotional damage was done.

When my fiance' made it home, he took one look at my red, puffy eyes and he knew things had not gone well. I immediately started bawling again and he comforted me. But I had no interest in touching that box of tampons again. And I didn't for many, many years.

(Yes, more proof I have always been a drama queen!!)


So, aside from a Memorial Day celebration, when I was at a cabin on the river with a boyfriend and his friends (that I didn't know) and I unexpectedly found myself in need of a feminine product before we floated the river. It was only our second date and sometimes you just have to do what you have to do! So, I found a girl who had a tampon and...well, really, what choice did I have?!


But, aside from that, I have not really used a tampon in many, many years.
I just had NO interest in them anymore.


Until.....we moved to Kansas and I have a nice pool in my backyard and 4 children who would like nothing more than to spend every single summer day in our swimming pool.


And when Logan's birthday swimming party landed during my "time," I had a choice to make. Skip swimming with my child at his party or suck it up and do the tampon thing.


So, the choice was actually easy.

I was going to use a tampon. Although the decision was not without the challenges of the neurotic issues I have regarding the use of tampons.


I didn't even have to go to the store to get them, yep, I already had this
box of tampons. I know this must surprise you. But, I keep this box for my friends. Ya know, if you come over to my house and need a tampon, I can give you one, rather than a gigantic pad. (Can you see how the box is crunched? Well, that is because this box has traveled from Oklahoma to Georgia to Kansas and I have had this box for over 5 years!!!
And it's only missing 10 tampons total!!!)And while we are taking a closer look at the box, here is that dreaded
Toxic Shock Syndrome warning we were talking about!!So, everything was successful for Logan's party, but after that, I just avoided the swimming pool during those times. Isn't that dumb?




Since having our children, I have found myself faced with cycles that are extremely difficult to deal with. And after dealing with this for several years and the problem seeming to be worse, I brought the subject up to my ObGyn. He actually suggested a minor surgical procedure that would eliminate the problem. But, quite frankly, that scares the crap out of me.


So, each month, I wear the ginormous pads and deal with it. I attempt to not make plans for the first day or two of my expected cycle, because I know those days will be horrid. I also know there is a better than 98% chance
that I will have an accident because of my awful cycles!


So, this morning, I am laying on the couch watching M and G playing with the pretend food and dishes. And by the time I can "feel" what's happening, there is already a spot the size of a baseball on my brand new couch. I WAS FURIOUS!!!! I am so stinkin' sick and tired of this, every single month.

So, I quickly ran to the bathroom to remedy the situation. I was so angry. I impulsively dug out the crushed box of tampons and grabbed one from the box. And before I knew it, I was wearing a tampon. And in my fury, I realized that if you get it in correctly (read: in far enough) than you really CAN NOT FEEL IT!!


And all of a sudden, after 2 decades, I understand how it works.


I feel like I have conquered something really big. And I accomplished wearing several more today and I feel like a free woman! It's my second day of my period and I can do whatever I want. I'm not afraid to go out of my house. It's a blissful feeling to not have to worry about anything. (especially the embarrassment of bleeding all over my clothing while out in public!)

(well, except I have to confess that now that I've had several tampons in my body in the past 24 hours, I am trying not to obsess about that darn TSS!!!! But, I am obsessing just a little bit........)


The one thing I can't quite grasp, is how in the world do you know when to change it? I mean, really?! How do you KNOW?! (which is why I called my friend this morning! Yes, the friend who laughed. It's ok, I expect her to laugh.....) A tampon is not like a turkey, when it's ready to come out, the little timer pops out! I mean, it's not like you can "check it" and put it back if it needs more time. Maybe I'll have to work on inventing the first tampon with a pop-out timer that smacks you in the leg when it needs to be changed and I'll become rich and famous. (shut up)


So, now I am interested in what I've been missing all these years.....

....the "retro" tampons I used are Playtex brand. I like them fine.


But, I recently received this sample of Tampax Pearls in the mail...So, I tried them out, too.


And since it's my "heavy" day, I decided that I'd try the Super one.

Holy Moly, I felt like a stuffed turkey!
I don't think I'll be doing that again any time soon!!!!

But, the regular size....well, I liked them a lot.
(gosh, why does that sounds so dirty?!?)


So, after all this new enlightenment to tampons, I want to use "the best." So, in my research I found some things I'd like to share with you. Now, mind you, this research is in the school of public opinion, so I spent some time on my favorite message board reading what the most opinionated group of women I know have to say on the subject of brands. After all my reading, I was no closer to figuring out which was the "best" tampon. Why? Because every person seems to have a different opinion. And it depends on who you choose to listen to. Feel free to comment which brand is your favorite and why!!!!


So, I have determined, the "best" one will be the one that works
BEST FOR ME. I'll let you know when I figure it out.


Have you ever seen the OB Tampons? It totally cracks me up how the OB Tampons look like little bullets. Well, ever since I received these samples and the cute little carrying case (they sent me the blue one).... ....I've been wanting to try them out. But, again, I couldn't bring myself to do it. I mean, really, NO APPLICATOR?!?! NONE!! But, maybe I'll get brave... tomorrow.


***edited to add*** Well, it's official, the OB's fate is a couple of ghosts or a bullet for the tampon shooter! I tried it. I hated it. Never got it to where it was going....if you know what I mean. As Jamie would say, "The Flamingo never made it to the hoo-ha!" Therefore, it basically fell out. And that, well that was not fun. I'm done with those! But, for those who love the OB brand, well, they love them. But, my opinion is NO. Mark my words, I will never do that again!** finished edit**

Now, the OB case got me started thinking that there must be other cases to keep my beloved new tampons from getting crushed in my purse. (and if you've seen the inside of my purse, you'd understand why I have this concern!! I keep everything in there.....)


And these are a few tampon cases I've found....


A case for the "classy" girl.....(looks like an eyeglasses case to me)



A case for the "crafty" girl.....(I really love the banana....isn't it cute?! But I'm not sure what the pink
one is....unless it's just a tampon "cozy"....)



A case for the "funny" girl........

(It comes with the handy/dandy cycle chart, too! Bonus!)



Which one is your favorite??




And, if this whole tampon thing doesn't work out.....
here are some ideas for what I can do with the leftovers.....


With Halloween just around the corner, this is PERFECT.......

....I can make a ton of these cute tampon ghosts and hang them from the tree in front of my house! Who could resist these cuties?!!


Or, I could paint them brown....and let Griffin haul "logs" with this truck....

(thank goodness he didn't see me taking this picture....)

And my husband and boys would love it if I gave them the
OB bullets and let them build this "tampon shooter!"

Nice ammo!!!



Another thing I found......

And, I found this bumper sticker hilarious!! I mean, really, don't we all feel this way during our "time of the month?!?" I know I do!!! PMS sucks!





And just for the record:

~No tampons were hurt in the preparation of this blog-post.

~NEVER, EVER Google tampon on Google Images.
Trust me on this one....someone pass the eye bleach!!

~My hoo haw is still wondering what's going on down there!
(sorry, TMI, but I mean really, does it matter at this point?!)

~Ha Ha! Big Daddy was actually impressed I used the tampons! Yea, me!
(yes, we tell each other everything!)



Last, but not least.....I have gathered links so you can get some free tampons!!! Here are links for you to get some free samples....Click on the cutey OB cases to get a free sample and cutey carry case!!

Click on the Playtex box for a free sample!!

Click on the Tampax Pearl box to get a free sample!!

WEIGHT WATCHERS UPDATE......

Well, I forgot to post it.....


...but this week I lost 2.8 lbs!!


This brings me up to a total weight loss

of 20.2 POUNDS!!!!


(and I am less than 7lbs. from my 10% goal!)

So, my Dad gave me my Mom's scrapbooks.....

...these tragic beauties are my mom's scrapbooks. They start when she is in Junior High and go until after High School Graduation and when she went into the Air Force. (basically, she had to...more on that later....)

See....she was scrappin' back in the mid to late 50's and early 60's......pretty cool!!


I totally cracked up when I saw this.....

I found this to be hilarious! I used to do stuff like this in Junior High!!! Jamie just had a post about her old scrapbook like a few weeks ago!! So, check this out Jamie!!!

I love it that it's all her friends!!!! Really, how cool is this?!

(and how sad is it that the tape is all messed up, yellowed and not holding half of this down.........COMPLETE AND TOTAL PROOF OF WHY I SCRAPBOOK USING 100% ARCHIVAL SAFE PRODUCTS!!!!!!!!)



So, this is how I found out that my mom had appendicitis and had her appendix removed while in high school. I had no idea.......

Don't ya just love all these "retro" cards?!?!


And check this out.....my mom used to read horoscopes! Hilarious!!! Anyone have Oct. 9 as their b-day? If so, this is for you.......

I just find this so hilarious, because when I was growing up, horoscopes were regarded as a waste of time to my mother...... Just a "they are a bunch of bull" feeling, not a I used to read my horoscope and they are never accurate.... Know what I mean?


And the big shocker found in the Senior Year Scrapbook..............

My mom's Senior report card.

Believe you me, I've NEVER seen this before!

And I was SHOCKED!!!! My mom is a very intelligent woman, who was very successful in EVERYTHING she ever did. She is really smart. And I was so surprised to see these kinds of grades from her. For goodness sake, she has an "F" and a bunch of "D's" on this thing!!

If my brother and I even attempted that, we'd be dead!

I can only assume that the reason for this is two-fold.

Number 1 - boys. I can tell by the scrapbook, that my mom had a bunch of boyfriends taking her out. (She saved about 20 Dairy Queen napkins from her dates....with the name of the boy she went out with in the scrapbook!)

And she had at least one serious boyfriend, named Denny. He's all over the scrapbook for many pages! And his is one of the very few pics in the book.
(and the reason for this is because I know there was NO WAY my mother owned a camera...there was no way they could have afforded it...)

Reason #2 - I can only assume these grades were due to how difficult things were for my mother. She really had a hard life. And I promise to blog about that soon.


I thought these things were cool......

(article from the local paper in Minnesota. And I believe Marsha was her best friend.) My mom's notes on the page......

(proof of why JOURNALING is SO IMPORTANT!!!!)



And, my mom's orders for the Air Force.......it's looks like jibberish to me, but going into the Air Force changed her life forever.

(the woman saved everything.....good grief, this is a sugar packet, a toothpick and her plane ticket for her ride from Minnesota to Texas for basic training.)


So, the reason my mom had to go into the Air Force....

Well, when my mom graduated from high school, she had dreams of going to college. The dream of college by a girl of her background was like the holy grail. (and back then, even with those grades....you could still easily get into college....)

So, my mom went to work the Summer after Graduation at a resort in Minnesota called Esslinger's Resort. (I tried to find some information about this...but, alas, I think it is either out of business now or at least going by another name.) She worked as a maid, cleaning rooms and doing the laundry. At the end of each week when she received her paycheck, she sent it home to her mother for saving.

Well, apparently, my grandma was an alcoholic and when my mother returned home at the end of the summer, there was no money left for my mother to go to college. Isn't that horrible? (obviously, I knew none of this until I was an adult. My grandma was actually killed in a hospital negligence accident in December of 1978......but until then, I had enjoyed a close relationship, albeit a long-distance relationship, with her and my mother spoke only of the positive things of my grandma.)

So, my mom had a choice to make. And I'm not exactly sure how or why, but the decision was made for her to join the Air Force. I think it may have had to do with the fact her friend Marsha was going, but I am not sure about this. Either way, it was obvious she needed to have something to do with her life after basically being betrayed by her mother. Although, I never really got that she felt that way, even though, that's basically what happened. It's really such a sad, sad story.


And that's just a small part of the entire story.....

Frustrated with Blogger.....

AAARRGGGHHHH!!!!!!


Recently, I've been having a lot of trouble w/ posting on blogger. In fact, it's really hacking me off and wasting a lot of my time.
(which I really don't appreciate!!!!)


So, tell me about your blog host.....

...are you using blogger and having trouble, too?

....who do you use and do you like them? why or why not?

....who is supposed to be the easiest host?


I am seriously so over blogger, but change scares the crap out of me.......but, I'll think about it!

Really, there is a good reason my scrap area looks like THIS!!!!!

(Don't ya just love the unpacked bag from the Creating Keepsakes Convention and the Pizza Hut coupons I used to order dinner on Wednesday night because I spent 9 hours scrappin' and I was working on a deadline.)

Nice mess! BLAH!!!
The price of creativity is a big, fat mess!!

The papers are Foof-A-La Hall Pass.

And the result was these adorable altered clipboards I was hired
to make.......

......aren't they stinkin' cute?!?!?!











I was really happy with how they
turned out......

....and even better, the client was overjoyed!!!

Our Morning Ritual....

When our little Princess started getting up at 7am, even on the weekends, we started bringing her into our bed. Well, 6 months later, this is our everyday ritual. Now that school is back in session, it's hard to spend as much time doing this. But, especially on the weekends, we are able to really be lazy and slow about getting up. And we love it!

We share a lot of silliness, tickles, love and laughter.

And sometimes Griff will join us, too!!!



After all these years, there's still a lot of love here!

{My Little Student}




So, Griffin started Pre-K this week. Here he is w/ his
backpack in tow, ready to head to the preschool.

Here my big boy is in front of his school. It's a private school. It was the best I could find.....it's a NAEYC Accredited school. (this is like Riverfield Country Day School in Tulsa that I used to teach at --and like Savannah Country Day) I was teaching at Riverfield while we were going thru the accreditation process. As a teacher, I remember exactly how strict and stringent the requirements were to receive this accreditation. So, I feel certain that this Pre-K program will be able to provide Griffin with an excellent environment for
his learning and educational and social growth this year. (I only wish we could afford to send Marinne, as well.
She really wants to go to school, too!!
So much so, she beat Griffin to the door!!!)


Once he was in the door, he headed straight down
the hallway to his classroom.

I was so proud of how "big" he was! He went straight to the door and after a final kiss and a hug from Mommy, he went right in. If he hadn't been to school before, this one final look would have sent me running to this.....

I thought this was a very nice touch! (man, I love this school!)


But, alas, I was too worried about getting home in a hurry to get THIS PRINCESS

home for her nap!! Due to the Pre-K schedule, it's throwing a monkey wrench into Marinne's very long napping schedule. (She's used to taking a 3+ hour nap, from like 1pm till after 4pm every day!) And now we don't get her in bed till about 1:15pm and I have to wake her at 3:15pm to run back to the preschool and pick up Honey. (Have I ever told you that's what she calls Griffin? She almost never calls him Griffin, it's always Honey.)

Poor baby girl is so disoriented when I rush in and wake her, but she actually seems to be taking it all in stride. She will take her paci and throw it in her bed and smile and say,
"Go get Honey now?"


And, we do.

I still have a hole in my heart and my life.....

...and I'm sure I always will.




In Memory of my darling mother,
Shirley Ann Coffin
October 09, 1945 - August 28, 1997

Looking back......isn't she gorgeous? This is probably around 1970 or so.
(I need to clarify with my dad to be sure.....)

I am loving the bright orange skirt! Way to *rock* the sexy legs Mama!!




Fast forward to the last 5 years I had with her......

....a PROUD mother, with her daughter the Bride. May, 23 1992


Wow! What a day that was!
Fun, enjoyable, overwhelming, FANTASTIC!!!!

And she and I planned the entire thing together!
(with some occasional help from Big Daddy and My Dad.....)





And 2 1/2 years after my wedding, she found a lump in the shower.

She already had a clean mammogram, only six months earlier.




She had a biopsy. It was painful.

The results were bad.....Cancer.
F#)%ing Breast Cancer.



My world was rocked the day I learned my Mother had Breast Cancer.
Everything I thought I knew was now up for discussion. I was shaken to the core.
This kind of stuff doesn't happen to my family. It is not supposed to be this way. It's just not.


She had to have a modified-radical mastectomy.
It was hard. It was scary. It sucked. But, she had to do it to try to save her life.
It was a hard hit to a part of her that "defines you as a woman."


And the after-care for this invasive procedure was just awful. She had to wear a drain and the dressings had to be changed frequently to prevent infection. The stitches were so primal looking to me. Stitching her up after she had been robbed of part of her body. But, she allowed me to lovingly help care for her. To sponge bathe her.
To really be there for her. To be at her most vulnerable in front of me.
Complete and total trust in me. Both of us surrounded by unconditional love.



Then, the pathology report came back.

Three kinds of breast cancer......
...two of them were slow growing, slow multiplying.

One was fast growing, fast multiplying.
This is the one that would ultimately would steal away her life.

The cancer had already spread into 3 of the 9 lymph nodes they removed from under her arm.

And once it's in your lymph nodes, it's in your blood.
And that means it can go anywhere in your body.


At first, she was terrified.
And at first, she was so convinced she was dying, she refused to fight.
And I got mad at her. Really upset. And I begged her to fight for her life.

But, she was angry. She was depressed. And she was terrified.
I can understand how she felt, but I needed her to fight.
I needed her. And, I still do. I don't think that ever changes.


Then, we found out my brother and sister-in-law were unexpectedly pregnant.

And a Grandma was born.




And she began to fight. And she fought hard.
Chemo. Really hateful, grueling chemo.
She was sick. Really sick.
Weak.
Nauseous.
Exhausted.
Vomiting.

Huge Mouth Ulcers, that prevented her from eating, even when she felt like she could.


Then, her hair started falling out in clumps.
(well, she called me bawling and I sped over and helped her comb it all out...as we both cried our eyeballs out. It was just such a sad, sad ritual we shared.
But I'm glad I was there for it.)
...then we had the rest of it shaved off by a friend who was a beautician.)


It screwed up her diabetes. She had to take pills and insulin shots.


It put her into Early Menopause. She was miserable.
And another slap to her womanhood.


She got Lymphodema from the removal of the lymph glands under her arm.
This caused her arm to swell up huge and hurt and ache. It was miserable. And this wasn't something that was temporary, it was a permanent problem.
And it plagued her until her death.




It was hard to fight, but she did.


And that beautiful baby girl, my niece, was born 8 months later.....BORN ON MY MOM's BIRTHDAY.
(Think that was a coincidence, NOPE! Absolutely not!!!)





But, the breast cancer kept coming back.
Attacking in different places......



First, in the S/I joint in her hip.

More Chemo.....repeat above hell.



Then, a spot in her chest.

More Chemo.....repeat above hell.



Then, it was a spot in the side of her neck.

More Chemo.....repeat above hell.



Through all of this, she was amazing!
She continued working full-time, because she wanted to.
And when she was sick, she went home. Or she stayed home.

She was very valued at her job. Over the years saving the company she worked for
hundreds of thousands of dollars due to her meticulous work ethics.

And her employers were thankful and they were just amazing in how they helped her and supported her....


Often, my mom would work from home.
And they had someone bring her files to her house so she could do so,
when she wanted to.
And when she could no longer drive, her employers hired someone to pick her up and take her home every single day. This person also would take her to and from doctor
appointments, when needed or asked to.


All of this was instrumental in allowing her to work up until 5 weeks before her death.



***********

During these 3 years, my Mom and I spent as much time together as possible.
Shopping. Having lunch. Just hanging out.
(this was easy because of the insane tv hours Big Daddy worked
and my dad worked a swing shift, so it was just the girls a lot of the time....)

We were very, very close.




And then, there was the day my first child was born....
mid-June 2007....
We didn't know if we were expecting a boy or a girl.

She had just had chemo again and she was sick and and nauseous and had
a mouth filled with sores from the medicines that were supposed to help save her life.

She should have been in bed. But, she wouldn't leave my bedside.
And she was one of the first to hold our Son after me and his Daddy.

{The expectant Grandma}

During the time when she was in remission the oncology specialist recommended a procedure to attempt to put my mom into permanent remission.



And, when my oldest Son was 5 months old, in November 1996, my mom decided to have the "stem-cell" transplant that the oncology specialist recommended,
as a last resort from the metastasizing cancer that was ravaging her body and
just kept coming back for more, time and time again.





This was a very invasive, risky and procedure.
It was extremely expensive. (like over $100,000 - and that was
mostly as an outpatient, 11 years ago)

At that time, it only had a 30% chance that it would be successful.




Once mom made the decision to go forward with this. I freaked out. I was so terrified that the "toxic chemotherapy" to prepare her body for the stem-cell transplant would kill her. I was completely overwhelmed and I could not deal with it. So, my Grandma (my dad's mom) came to "nurse" her thru it at home.


For a long time I was disappointed in myself and ashamed that I could have let my mom down by not "being there" for her. But, I did have a 5 month old nursing baby to take care of, as well as, being all-consumed by my fears. I was hard on myself in relation to the decisions regarding this entire procedure. It was a horrible time in my life. And I felt so bad. I wanted to take care of her....but I just couldn't. I could not watch her be that sick. I just couldn't bear to see it. It was too frightening to me.


She and I later talked about it and I apologized for letting her down. But you know what, she said she knew I wouldn't be able to do it. That's how well she knew me. And that's why she had previously made arrangement with my Grandma before she ever began making arrangements to have the procedure done. Wasn't she great?! She knew my strengths and my weaknesses and she accepted me regardless.



***************

First, she had to get shots for 4 days or so to stimulate the production of the stem cells.


Then, the stem-cells had to be harvested. To do this, she had to take medicine to force the stem cells from the bone marrow into the circulating blood. This procedure can cause aching in the bones from the growth of the cells. It also causes flu-like symptoms both before the harvest and after.


Then, they have to collect the cells, which requires being hooked to a machine, which filters the blood, removing the stem cells and replacing the blood back into the body without those stem cells. This procedure takes hours and it takes several days (Four days, I think.) to harvest enough stem-cells to do the stem-cell transplant.


Now, as bad as that part is, that was the easy part.


Once they have the cells, they must attempt to rid the body of cancer cells.
Read: feed you poison until you almost die.
(I'm not trying to be a smart-ass....this was an actual possibility listed as a
"side-effect" of the stem-cell transplant process....Death. This procedure was brutal!)


So, in 3 days, my mom received the equivalent of
6 months worth of chemotherapy drugs. Yes, you read that right.
6 MONTHS OF CHEMO in 3 DAYS!
They literally take you as close to the brink of death as medically possible...
...without actually killing you.

It's called Cytotoxic Therapy.


Therapy, my ass.
And toxic, well, that's right on the money.


And 11 years ago, in 30% of cases, it could completely eradicate
cancer cells from my Mother's body.


And it was our only hope, so we did it.

By we, I really mean she. It was her decision. But dad and I went to every information-filled appointment with her. Met with every doctor . Every oncologist. Every cancer specialist. And she asked for our advice.
But, it was always her final decision.


(For instance, mom was offered Tamoxifen as a trial. But, at that point, the side effects they listed were really scary. And she decided not to take it. We supported her in this decision, because some things thought to be "side effects" were pretty darn bad.

And within a year of my mom's death, they were calling Tamoxifen the breast cancer miracle drug. And if mom had taken it, it may have saved her life.
But, of course, we didn't know that then. At the time, we made the best decisions
we could with the knowledge that we had at the time. But it still sucks knowing that Tamoxifen could have possible changed everything.)


The actual "transplant" part of the stem-cell transplant.


So, after all of that, they have to put the cells back in. "The transplant" part of this.
So, about 2 days after the last killer chemotherapy treatment, they give you back the "stem-cells" they harvested from you previously. This is done intravenously. These "stem cells" have been frozen and have a chemical added to them to help preserve the integrity of the stem-cells...and you can even have side effects to the chemical.


During and after the transplant process, the patient requires constant medical support. They need transfusions of platelets and red-blood cells. They need antibiotics to prevent viral, bacterial and fungal infections. (this is a threat for 3 months following the procedure - the reason we requested our Son's
immunizations be the "dead" virus type, rather than the "live" virus type.
Otherwise, they couldn't be near each other.)


In addition to all this fun stuff, the patient is dealing with the complications of the horrid, high-dose chemotherapy treatments they have just gone thru.
(meaning all those horrible symptoms listed about times like 100!!!)


My mom also developed Mucositis, which is when the cells inside the mouth and cells inside the intestinal tract are destroyed by the high-dose chemotherapy. This causes mouth pain and ulcers, abdominal pain, diarrhea and infection. IT WAS AWFUL!!


In about 2-3 weeks, there is usually evidence of the old blood cells dying off (making you prone to bleeding and infection) and the new cells multiplying.


After the entire process, it takes an average of 9-12 weeks to recover. And even then you can be weak, experience loss of appetite and wide ups and downs in emotions.


By Spring, we knew the procedure had failed.



She had another bone scan and they found cancer, again.


We were all devastated.



And the next visit to the oncology specialist brought more bad news, there were brain tumors. Lots of them. Somewhere between 9-15 brain tumors.


Honestly, I wasn't surprised.
I had seen some faint examples of my mom "who remembers everything" forgetting things I knew I had told her. Also, some strange ramblings that weren't like her. Or, seeming to not recognize someone she knew..something she NEVER DID before.


But, the worst part of all.....there was nothing left they could do to treat her.....now all we could do was wait and pray for a
MIRACLE.


The doctor said she'd have about a year.


So, I discussed with Ike my desire to have another baby. And being the loving man he was, he agreed we could try. This decision was made on a Monday, I got pregnant on Friday. (a one time deal) We were ecstatic when we found out --and we were also a bit shocked, after all, it was a long-shot. My mom was overjoyed!!!


But, alas, I miscarried 2 weeks later at my 10 year class reunion.

And again, I was devastated.


(but looking back, it's all for the best....I know I could not have made it thru the death of my mother while being pregnant, based on how horrid my pregnancies are.....)



This is my mother and my oldest Son, right after he
turned 1 year old, in mid-June. They were so bonded. And as she became more sick (July 1997) and we had to bring in a hospital bed for the living room to aid in her care with hospice, Logan would toddle over to her bed and shake the rails until she would awaken. She'd ask for him to be put in the bed....eventually only calling him "baby" rather than his name.....and they would engage in a form of "baby talk." And somehow they seemed to understand each other. It was bittersweet.


And this is one of the final pictures that she and I have of each other (and Logan, of course.) I can't believe how sick she looks.

Again, she has no hair. This pic was in late-July 1997.


(She was really sick during this period. Although, she wasn't being treated with chemotherapy, she was still very ill. A side effect of the brain tumors were that they were pressing on something that caused my mother to experience vertigo (dizziness, leading to nausea and vomiting) whenever she would try to look at you. If you moved at all, she would be sick. It was horrible. She was suffering and I hated it.



This whole time, we thought we had about 10 months with her. Little did we know, she was dying. I had no idea.

I always believed that somehow, someway she would be fine. I was waiting for our miracle. And I still thought it would come.
She had to be fine. I needed her to be fine. I had to believe.


The best thing was that during this time, we really talked. We had great conversations. We shared all those things that you want to say, but often don't.

She told me she was worried about how my MIL treated me.

She told me she was concerned about my health due to all the weight I had gained during my pregnancy with Logan.

She told me a million times how much she loved me and how proud she was of me and what a great mother she thought I was.

All of this meant so much to me......


She also shared the coolest "dreams" she had recently had.
She told me that she was "ready to get her diamond dress" and that they were "getting the big white house ready for her." I believe she was actually getting so close to death that she was seeing into Heaven.....seeing HER FUTURE!!!!

(She has never owned a "sparkly dress" that could be described as a "diamond dress" and she had never lived in a "white house." I know she was describing Heaven.)




In early mid-August, Big Daddy and I had a trip planned to see his sister in Idaho with his parents. I was very apprehensive about leaving my Mom, but she assured me I should go. After all, the plane tickets were expensive and non-refundable. And, my mother-in-law would freak if I decided not to go, and my mom knew my MIL would "punish" me for ruining her plans, so she eventually convinced me to go.
And eventually, I agreed that I would.


(How sad is it, that while she is on her death bed, literally 2 weeks before her death, she's worried about me and the fact my mother-in-law will be difficult and not too understanding if I ruin her plans and the punishments I'd receive for it if I did!!!)


Before I left, I went to see my Mom.
In a flippant, joking way, I said, "Don't you go anywhere while I'm gone."
(ummm....she is bedridden...she hasn't been actually been anywhere in weeks...)

(and yes, I cope with most things with humor)


Little did I know, she'd take this flippant comment to heart....and half-way thru my trip to Idaho, my dad called after Mom had a particularly "bad" day......

...and he asked, "What did you say to your Mom? She keeps saying it's time for her to go, but she can't because you told her not to."

(Now, at this time, because of the brain tumors, she often said things that didn't always make sense to us.....)


At first, I didn't realize what she was talking about. I mean, the comment was seriously so flippant (and completely about my fear she'd die while I was gone...)
I didn't really even remember saying it. But after my dad's phone call, I realized what I had said and what she was doing. And I felt soooo guilty.
But, in my heart I KNEW, she was waiting for ME to come home.
It was her time to go Home and she knew it.



I was home 2 days later, on Monday night. And I rushed from the airport to her bedside.She couldn't believe I had dyed my hair blonde (a coping distraction while in Idaho.)And when I got home, my brother was there. (after my mom's "bad day," my dad called my brother and asked him to come home for support....and it was a good thing my mom had the meltdown, because it was the only reason my brother was home the week she died. Otherwise, he would have been at home in Nebraska.)

On Tuesday, I shared with my brother my suspicions about Mom knowing it was time. Thanks to the Hospice people, we knew it was important to give your loved one "permission" to go. So, on Tuesday night, my brother and I sat with our Mom and shared old times. Old Memories. Confessed things we "thought" she didn't know. Found out "she did know." Told her everything we loved about her. Then, we gave her "permission to go," letting her know that we loved her, that we didn't want to let go of her, but we knew her body was betraying her and we didn't want her to suffer any longer. And we meant it. And she knew it.


The following day was Wednesday, a day that we had quietly arranged for some church ladies to come sit w/ mom so we could go to the Funeral Home while my brother was still in town to make "the arrangements," when we could all be involved in doing so. Some of it was already decided, for my Mom had filled out a questionnaire about her desires for her funeral. So, we went and chose a casket. We chose the scriptures. We chose the music. We chose flowers. It was sad and weird feeling. Sort of like a betrayal of my Mother, planning this and she's still living. It was HARD. But, I am very thankful that we did it, for we had no idea what the next 24 hours would hold. But the decisions were made before the emotions took over. Thank God!


When we returned home, we learned that Mom had not awakened. And she didn't the whole rest of the day. She was in a coma. And that night, as we all sat by her hospital bed in the middle of the living room, I could swear her breathing was irregular.
(but we still had months with her, right?) My dad insisted I was wrong. After a while, everyone agreed she was breathing weird.

So, I freaked out and called the Hospice people, who sent a nurse to check her out.


The male nurse confirmed when he got there, that our Mother was indeed dying. And we could expect it in the next few days. Although, in my heart I already knew it, I was stunned. I stayed by her side most of the night, kissing her and loving her. Sometime in the early morning hours, I decided I should probably go home. And I did.


When Logan was up the next morning, I got up and called my dad to check on mom.
He assured me she was fine, but still in the "coma." The Nurse was there to give her a bath and they were getting ready to get her the Morphine and other meds she needed.


So, I hung up the phone and got into the shower.


As soon as I turned off the water, the phone was ringing......

....when I picked up the phone, it was my dad.

He only said, "She's gone."

"WHAT DID YOU SAY?!" I screamed.

He said again, "She's gone."

I was stunned.

"How? You said she was fine."

He said, "She was."


Apparently, after he and I hung up, he went to the kitchen to get Mom's medicine before her bath from the nurse. (My brother was down the hall brushing his teeth.)

She had always said that she wouldn't "go" with any of us around, because it was just way too hard to go then. And that's exactly what she did. As soon as both of them were away from her side, she quietly slipped away.

And nobody knew for a moment, until the nurse walked up to her bed, to start her bath and she noticed she was no longer breathing.


So, 10 years ago today, I buried my Mom.

My friend.

Part of me.


Here I am at her grave on her birthday in 1997, a month after we buried her.

Obviously, this was after all the tears were shed. The memories of her always make me smile.

I know this is a mega-post, but I rarely ever talk about this in detail and that was most of the story. I miss her and I love her. She was one of the finest women I ever knew. She wasn't perfect, but she was still awesome. And if I can only be half of the woman, wife and mother she was, than I am doing great.

Some of you knew her. The others I wish you could have.
She was a kind, loving, Godly woman.



Lastly, I want to share something with you -- the tribute that I wrote for my Mother for Christmas in 1996. It took me 7 months to write it and get it exactly how I wanted it. I read it aloud to her on Christmas. It was one of the best, easiest and hardest things I have ever done. And I'm so glad I did.......


My Mother, My Special Friend


You always told me you had a special place for me in your heard as your firstborn. Today, I want you to knew you have a special place in my heart, because you are my mother and my special friend.
I want you to know how much I love you.

All my life, I thought you were the most beautiful woman I had ever known. As a child, I always thought you looked pretty and I knew I had the prettiest Mom. Now that I am older, I realize that you are not only pretty on the outside, but more importantly, on the inside.
You are loving, kind, gentle, kind, faithful and generous.

Mom, you have always made me feel special by the way you treated me. It sure makes me feel good when you call me Sanna, your special "pet name" for me.

Mom, you have always worked hard to help provide for our family and give us special things. Many times you sacrificed things for yourself to give things to me and Randy. You always told us you wanted us to have everything you never did. Thank you for
being so unselfish.

Mom, thank you for praying with Dad for the man who would one day become my husband. Look who I was blessed enough to receive.

Mom, thank you for always having delicious, home-cooked meals on the table everyday. Gathering around the table each night was an important time for our family. We prayed together and shared the events of the day. I think that special time together helped to make our family so close.

Mom, some of my favorite times with you were our "secret shopping trips." It was so fun to spend the day together. We always got so excited when we found a great sale! We shopped for just about anything: clothes, shoes, housewares. Do you remember when we were shopping for a dress to wear to my Senior year Christmas Formal? We found that light blue dress and we couldn't figure out what was wrong with it! Then, I turned around only to find the bust darts sticking out of the middle of my back. We laughed so hard!! Then, we purchased that dress. It turns out it's really pretty when worn the right way. We didn't realize it then, but we were practicing to shop for the ultimate dress, my wedding gown. Do you remember when we found it? You cried as soon as you saw me. And we knew it was the right dress. So, we called daddy to have him come see it and he was speechless. Thank you to you and daddy for paying for my wedding. I felt like Cinderella and
I don't think I've ever seen a wedding as gorgeous as mine!

Mom, thank you for always being my biggest cheerleader. You've always stood behind me and encouraged me to do my best. Once, during a particularly hard time in college, you sent me a card with the poem, Never Give Up. Did you know I still have that card and
I read it when I get discouraged.

Mom, thank you for not giving up in your fight against breast cancer. You are one of the bravest women I know. I know how hard it's been on you and I am so proud of you for not giving up. I'm very thankful for every day you and I have together. I am glad you were able to be at Logan's birth. I want him to know you and love you like I do. Keep fighting because I can't imagine my life without you.

I love you very much!

My love always,
Roxann






(Disclaimer: I am not a doctor, nor do I claim to be one. All info regarding medical precedures in this blog post is an accurate representation of my memory of my mother's story, based on the information I can remember. I can not guarantee the 100% medical validity of this information. It's been between 10 and 13 years ago that all of this occurred. I only share this information in an effort to share my feelings about this life-changing experience with you. Furthermore, it kinda pisses me off I even have to type a disclaimer like this on such a personal and emotional post. However, if I don't, some idiot will take my word as the God's honest, 100% reliable medical truth and then try to sue me later. Sorry....now you can't.
For my friends and faithful readers who know better, please ignore this disclaimer and feel free to post your comments.)