Sarah aka the chickenhawk has a really tough job. She has to manage me when I am chemo since I am at times (much) unable to do anything but what I feel like doing. This week it was trimming my medical marijuana harvest and smoking lots of pot. Intermixed with going to the hospital for a couple of days to get fluid back in my dehydrated dihareal and otherwise afflicted body. The boring list goes on of minor complaints. My moods swing like Count Basie, Frank Sinatra and and lord Kieth Richard the IV (pronounced eye vee). It depends on the day of the week, and the moment of the day.
Let us not forget that we are 6 weeks into the remodel that was dumped in our lap like a basket of lemons due to a flood on memorial day weekend. The work is all but done and we now have to work on getting everyone paid and moving what seems like every little piece of clothing, funriture, knick nacks, junk, etc. etc. etc.... back into its new place in the house. The upsides are fantastic new tile in parts, bamboo floor in the master bedroom.
Currently I am manic like a like an under exercised dog at a Frisbee throwing contest. That mood started at 2;30 this afternoon when Dave P brought over a dose of dexamethazone so I could stay on my treatment plan. I was supposed to have gotten my own from kaiser but ended up being busy with more pressing issues this week and found myself without this AM. Luckily Stef has a pretty hefty war chest of Rx meds and was able to share saving me another last minute weekend freak out trip to the kaiser pharmacy. That is a bunch of phone calls and an hour drive to roseville and sitting in a line. Now that I've got dex on board that wouldn't be a problem. It is 10:40 and I am not going to go to sleep at any time in the near future without the help of some serious Over the counter pharmaceuticals.
The chickenhawk did not work this week. It was too much. Perhaps the fact that she looked, hard, for a teaching position this summer and fall to no avail is a blessing in disguise. Yes, money is tight, holding the family together in a time of stress is more important than $15 at CODS.
I have always been someone to get what I want. Most of my life money has been abundant. I would say that I am a money magnet. That was what I discovered when I got my relationship with dollars straight. I learned alot about that realtionship by looking at how other people related to money and emulating those that had relations with money that I admired. To name a few: Matt Sundermier, Lisa Parks, Lars Holbek, Mark Kocina, Randy Calvin, Tommy and Terry Anderson and Doug Stadler among others. It is all about a balance between doing what you love for the amount of money that you need to enjoy life. That, a good brain a shred of motivation, a mild willingness to do the things that you don't like to do occasionally and some good old fashioned white-male-with-an-education-grown-up-in-an-affluent-community-opportunities-and-relationships aka wmwaeguiacoar aka the acronym I will never use again.
So much to do. I have wanted to call and talk to or email so many friends and let them know. I am OK. I am doing a hard job. Chemo is my full time occupation right now. It is a 24-7 job and I am often too slammed to talk to all of my dear friends that are so important to me. I have yet to make this blog's resurrection public. Why? Shut the fuck up is why. I am writing for me. If you don't like it don't read it. It may be self agrandizing or the posts might not be frequent, If I am feeling good I will probably blow it off for things that involve being outside, adventuring and otherwise making the precious memories. While I still can.
So much cancer in the community. Poor Stef, I can imagine what she is going through. I feel as though I have a fairly unique sympathy for her predicament. I can honestly say I would have quit, I would have gotten off the bike and started walking. When the walking gets to painful I will sit down and die. The chickenhawk says that I am going to go with my skateshoes or my wetsuit booties on. I can emphatically say that the last place on earth that I want to be in my life is not in a hospital or in a hospital bed. That will be when I go. That is a topic for another post.
Tori, you are filled with bravery. Your motivation, focus and life's training have set you up for your challenges like no one else I can imagine. I wouldn't wish cancer on Dick Cheney (ok maybe him) but you are the most suited to the job at hand more than anyone I know. I have seen you locked into a turn at 50 MPH passing the fastest descenders I know on the outside of a 30 MPH blind turn like the professional speed demon that you are. That is when you are at your best. Train your weaknesses too, I wish you clarity, tranquility, and comfort while you kill this dragon.
To the friends and fans of the chickenhawk, I say when you see her doing good, tell her. Like the cartoon chickenhawk, she does well with positive reinforcement. She has a really really hard job. She likes high quality dark chocolate, easily prepared meals in disposable containers, homemade baked goods, fruit for making Jams jellies and preserves, red wine, trips out hiking, biking, SUPing, trader joe's. Her dislikes include snot, whining, house remodels, negative feedback and asking for help.
Me, I've got my body and my spirit, my wonderful little family, my extended family and community, good food and a comfortable home in one of the most beautiful places on earth. The things I want for are mostly material illusions. I have you dear reader. Thank you.