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Hills and Valleys and Shadows
Monday, September 15th, 2008 | Adult Children, Birthdays, Cancer Survivor, Retirement, Teachers | 2 Comments
Well, I left you hanging last week with no blogs while I was riding the roller coaster of life—all of the ups and downs associated with being a cancer survivor. A lot has happened since then. Here are just a few of the hills and the valleys—amazing what can transpire in a short period of time that impacts your life.
Let’s begin with the high notes
A “54 kid turns 54—Not a Kid Anymore
Last Wednesday, I turned 54 years of age. I’ve been kidding about being born in ’54 and turning 54—seems an oddity, doesn’t it? Of course I’d rather be that than born in ’21 and turning 21—means it would be 1942 and we’d be in the midst of World War II without knowing the outcome. My son asked if I thought he’d make it to 83 years of age, since he was born in 1983. My reply was…not if you keep smoking you won’t. There I go into Mom Mode again!
Celebrating Retirement—Again??
My dear friends, Ed Hodges, who retired at the end of last school year, and Anna Sizemore, my media center cohort, hosted a wonderful retirement party for me on Friday. It was good to see my WHS family and friends. My most treasured gift was a folk art still life painted by Miss Lucretia Hughes of Washington. I understand she was quite the Renaissance woman who did many things well—genealogy, gardening, and painting, just to name a few. Mr. Hodges ( I apologize—hard to get out of teacher mode) acquired the painting through the long standing close relationship between his family and Miss Lucretia. His gift was so special because it was a meaningful token of our mutual respect and love of this town, its people and history. My hubby also was thrilled to see a family artifact of Mr. Hodges’. My hubby and he are descendents of Matthew Midgett, and Mr. Hodges has an old powder horn that belonged to Matthews’s son, Thomas Midgett. The horn is dated 1747 and has personal carvings, somewhat like scrimshaw, decorating the rim and edge. It was a true thrill of my husband to be able to touch and hold something that belonged to his family so long ago.
I always wondered if I’d ever stay anywhere long enough professionally to have a retirement party. So, this meant a lot to me. I quantified my career in my head this week—you do that when you retire and actually have time to think. Here’s what I figured out:
Elementary classroom teacher: six years in two states, 3 school districts, and taught six different grade levels or combinations: kindergarten-first, third, third-fourth, fourth, fourth-fifth, fifth grades. Central and Hardeeville Elementary Schools in South Carolina, Newland Elementary in North Carolina
Media specialist—best known as librarian: twelve years in four different schools, three different school districts, and two levels, elementary and high school. Chapel Grove Elementary & New Hope Elementary in Gaston County, Hornets Nest in Charlotte-Mecklenburg, and Washington High School in Washington.
Teacher Resource Center Director for Gaston County: 3.5 years
Instructional Technology Specialist for Gaston County: 3.5 years
Instructional Technology Director for Rowan-Salisbury Schools: 3 years
Professional Development Specialist for Charlotte-Mecklenburg Schools: 2 years
Curriculum Development Director for ENTech (now known as QTL) developing a statewide technology-training program for teachers: 2 years
Whew—it makes me tired just thinking about it—think of all those teachers and young’uns!!!— as they called them in Newland, when I taught there. Not to mention, overhead projector bulbs, Vis-a-Vis pens, flip charts, Power Point presentations, floppy disks and flash drives, and DOS commands—yes, I even go back that far! C:> dir (just a little encryption for those of you that can go back there with me). And the C:> is not some new kind of smiley face either—although it could be…think of a big bubble hair do C with a pointed noise >–oops sounds like Tammy Faye! Man, am I ever getting off track because I don’t want to talk about the valleys!
Okay, if we have to go there, we must… to the valleys. Although, did you know that my minister told me that the quote about the valley of the shadow of death in Psalm 23 is probably a mistranslation. In the heat of the Middle East in Biblical times and now, to be in a shadow is where there is life. In the scorching sun is where one would most likely die. Interesting way to look at it, isn’t it?
One Big Valley
I found out last Monday, that not only am I a fallopian tube cancer survivor of seven years, but, now I’m a breast cancer survivor, also. My needle biopsy came back positive for DCIS (Ductal Carcinoma In Situ), meaning cancer of the breast milk ducts in place (in situ) meaning contained within the ducts. They say that is the BEST breast cancer to have—of course, I beg to differ, that NO breast cancer is the best kind. But, I’ll take it over the more aggressive ones like HER2, which my dear sweet friend, more like adopted daughter, Tiffany is fighting (and winning, I might add).
So, I have an appointment with my oncologist next week to discuss treatment—probably a lumpectomy and/or radiation and/or chemo.
So, there it is…I’ve written it in my blog for all to see. It’s out there. I’m exposed and vulnerable to all who read it. It has taken me a week to allow myself to think about it long enough to write about it. I think that just finally getting it out and exposed is very therapeutic. I’ve always been open and talkative about my cancer—even the grocery store clerk knows I’m a survivor. But, this one was a tough one. I’m hoping that just putting this out there into the scorching sun of the desert will kill any stigma that is attached to it. I’m hoping that everyone will continue to treat me the same—like someone who can beat this terrible disease. Like someone who still has a lot of living to live, giving to give, and loving to love.
Until tomorrow
De Ja Vu
Hanna is History
Monday, September 8th, 2008 | Cancer Survivor, Hurricanes | 1 Comment
Well, I didn’t make it to blogging this weekend—too much adrenaline flowing on Saturday because of Tropical Storm Hanna, and then too much exhaustion on Sunday from all the adrenaline rush on Saturday.
Well, now Hanna is history. Hubby woke up around 4 am on Saturday morning to go into work at city hall. His techno cohort had already spent the night at the Emergency Command Center, aka Fire Station #2. I went back to sleep and awoke around 6:30—peeking out the upstairs bedroom window to get a glimpse at the river. I could tell there was water in the street by the refection off of the street lamp. Hannah did about the same amount of harm that Ophelia did here in 2005. She breached the banks of the Pamlico at Havens Garden and down on Stewart Parkway. She crossed the railroad track at Havens, covered East Main Street, and proceeded slowly but surely up Simmons Street where we live. She only made it to our bottom steps before the wind turned and she receded. I entertained myself by taking pictures and video and sending them to Skip, the weather guy, at Channel 12. Channel 12 was reporting from the waterfront, though, and was pretty busy reporting on boats that were dragging anchor. I don’t think my pics or video made the cut—oh well.
Saturday afternoon, we went for a walk along the train track just to see what the tide drug in. Found two nice pieces of driftwood to add to the front porch collection. I was reaching for a third large piece when I stepped into a bed of ants. With the neuropathy that I have in my feet from so much Taxol (chemo) it took awhile for me to realize that they were feasting on both my feet. I’m sure it looked like I was dancing some wild dance to the hurricane gods on the train track! I nursed my wounds with Epsom salt, rubbing alcohol, and Sting-Eze. Hubby suggested I take two Benadryl, just in case. I think he just wanted some peace and quiet for the ECU game, which was so exciting that I stayed awake until the fourth quarter. Go Pirates!
Sunday was a quiet day, starting out with early church, brunch at the Meeting Place (yum!), and reading the Sunday paper. Then, I became painfully bored and asked to get out of the house. So, we drove to Terra Ceia. We’d read about the Dutch settlers there growing bulbs around the turn of the century. There is sure a lot of open space out there. Seems you can see from horizon to horizon. Saw some flower fields and lots of Dutch style barns. Picked up the boat from Hal and Garlene—we’d stashed it there during the storm. Then back to Simmons Street to watch the Panthers game. Which turned out to be a great ending! Looks like Jake is back!
Today we’re faced with yard cleanup (which I refused to do on Sunday), and moving all the furniture back which includes 8 chairs, 4 tables, 1 chandelier, 1 crab,1 citronella candle, 2 watering cans, 3 flower pots w/flowers, various pillows and cushions, and 1 piece—make that 3 pieces of driftwood.. And that’s just the front porch. I’ve decided I might as well give the front porch a good scrubbing before moving everything back. Seems like déjà vu back to my childhood when my job was to scrub the carport (yes, the carport) about once a month with a Stanley scrub brush on a handle and Tide detergent. At least, it isn’t January!
Called about my needle biopsy today and found out that the report was still not complete. Should be by noon today, but the doctor, who did the biopsy, is out all week. I told them there was no way that I could wait another week to find out about this. I asked them to just fax the results to Amy at WFM—I’d rather hear the news from her, anyway, whether good or bad, than some doctor I don’t know. So, here I am, still in limbo. Riding in the front car of the roller coaster that is stopped at the top of a steep hill, holding my breath, and hanging on for dear life. Literally and figuratively. Ready to move forward and trying not to look back.
Until tomorrow,
De Ja Vu
Hurricane Virgins–No More!
Friday, September 5th, 2008 | Hurricanes | No Comments
I apologize for a late blog today. It has been a busy one preparing for Hurricane Hanna. She is expected to come through the Hwy. 17 corridor and cross the Pamlico River during the night tonight. It seems oncoming catastrophes always create dilemmas. My dilemma this time is where to spend the night tonight. Should I go to City Hall with my hubby who has to be there? Or should I stay at home through the storm with the Kit Kat (our precious kitty)? If I choose to go to City Hall, KK will have to spend her time there in a cage while I sleep on a cot and contemplate the ghosts of post offices past. You see the City Hall was once a federal post office and courthouse—think of all the possible ghosts just waiting to ride out of town on a hurricane! Instead of going postal, they could get out of town forever by going coastal! I can just see those postal ghosts now, toasting in the Caribbean sand with their gray Bermuda shorts. Of course, I won’t be worried about the ones that are leaving when I sleep in the spooky old place, I’ll be worried about the ones that stayed! I believe I’ll take my chances in our 1924 bungalow this time.
Well, it is true—we’re no longer hurricane virgins. Our first experience happened three years ago when Ophelia tried to break our hearts (do you know that song?) as she blew through Washington. We had just renovated our aforementioned bungalow, when the firemen knocked on the door with a mandatory evacuation notice. That was a shocker—especially since my hubby worked at City Hall! I wasn’t too worried until a short time later our neighbor across the street began moving all of her furniture out of the house and loaded onto what looked like a moving van. That’s when we got creative about how high you can get a new couch off of the floor. It was amazing how high you really can stack furniture without everything tumbling down like building blocks stacked too tall. We did such a good job, I took pics of it all—because I knew I’d never remember how we did it the next time. We survived with no major damage—mostly duct tape residue on the window frames. The next year Ernesto came our way, with more water than Ophelia—but no evacuation order, thank goodness. We actually ventured out on the front porch during the blow and videotaped footage that was posted on a local news website. The funniest thing that happened during Ernesto was a pontoon boat floated ashore and was beached on the railroad track at Havens Garden in front of our house. The automated signals interpreted the pontoon boat to be an oncoming train, which started the signal lights and lowered the crossing guard. It stayed that way until about ten local guys lifted the boat off the track a few hours later.
So, we are ready this time. We’ve moved all of the furniture from the front porch and the Tiki Hut in the back yard. (You’re probably thinking that anyone with a Tiki Hut in their back yard is asking for it from a hurricane!) We moved the boat, fueled the cars, charged the batteries, filled up the bathtub, bought bread and milk that we didn’t need, and ate all the leftovers in the fridge for supper. Of course, since we are ready—nothing will really come of it—we hope.
I’ll take some notes tonight and give you a blow by blow tomorrow.
Until then, good night from De Ja Vu and I promise not to be so word clever tomorrow.