Brain Cancer, Round 3

Last week, my dad had a "procedure"  done.  At least, that's what he called it.  

As many of you already know, in 2008 we found out that my dad had brain cancer.  He immediately had surgery and everything was great for a year.  It came back in October of last year, 2 years later.  

He had a second brain surgery.  This one, not as smooth as the first.  He lost his memory due to swelling with this one.  It was extremely unnerving for me to see him like this.  My dad, who has always been the strongest person in my life,couldn't remember who I was.  He would look me directly in my eyes and not know my name.  He stumbled over words and repeated numbers, months and dates that made no sense at all.  The nurses assured us that it would get better after the swelling, but that did nothing for how scared I was at that moment.


On Wednesday, he called me from the hospital again.  The MRI had showed a spot.  Just four and a half months later.  Sigh....


He was preparing to have a procedure done.


Radiation procedure.


Back in October, he was given a choice to have a blast of radiation sent to the cancer spot on his brain or have the surgery.  Since the first one had gone so well, he opted to try it again.  This time, I think that the memory loss after the second surgery scared him... a lot... and he decided to try the radiation.


They screwed a metal halo to his head and sent a blast of radiation to the spot that I so desperately would love to see gone for good.  

On a positive note, the recovery for this procedure was a breeze.  No hospital stay. No pain.


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I have moved all the way across country to Arizona.  The timing couldn't be worse.  The quick return of the cancer this time scares me terribly.  The idea that it only took 4 month to come back this time... sigh... I can't stand to think what happens next.  


He didn't call me until right before the procedure.  He didn't tell anyone what was happening other than his girlfriend and cousin. My sister and brother had no idea.  I know he doesn't want to see me worry, but not knowing is worse.  I feel like I should be in Georgia to be close... just in case... just in case ANYTHING happens.    


Sometimes I can't help but feel like I should have stayed in GA...

Lunch

The Hubs and I had lunch at a Korean restaurant today.  It was actually my first time eating Korean.

I love Chinese, but the two are a bit different. 

Please don't ask me what I ordered because it's not something you can find in the English dictionary, but I was very much okay with my choices. 

What I was NOT interested in trying was the kymshi (or however you spell it)  I can't get over the rotting cabbage thing.

When I was a kid in TX, between the ages of 7 and 9, one of my predominant memories was the Korean lady that lived in our building who use to lay cabbage on a tarp in the sun in front of her apartments until it rotted.  The smell was horrific.  At that time, I couldn't understand why someone would want to eat something that looked like that rotted cabbage and smelled that bad!  I STILL can't stomach the idea.

So needless to say, the kymshi that they put on the table with our meal was still there when we left.


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What's not to Like?

New State.  New House.  New Furniture.  New Mattresses.

We have finally moved out of that cramped 2 bedroom apartment and into our quarters on post.  I wouldn’t exactly call what I am living in “quarters” though.  I was an army brat, you know, and from what I remember, living on post was NOTHING like this!  (yeah, I had to use an exclamation mark because I’m excited)

               When I was a kid in Germany, the quarters were a huge 4 story building with 16 family apartments with 3 bedrooms, and laundry room and storage in the basement.  Pretty much the same when I went back as an adult.  In Ft. Stewart, we lived in a quad-townhouse.  4 families in one building 4 bedrooms and 2.5 bathrooms.  I thought that was a nice house. 

               This house is a whole new ballgame!  It is HUGE!  A 4 bedroom, 2.5 bathroom single family home.  2500 square foot single family home with a formal living room, dining room family room and eat in kitchen.  The kitchen is open to the family room and it has granite countertops.  This house beats out my measly 1800sq. ft. house back in Georgia any day! 

                

The kids LOVE the house.  They were more excited about the house itself than they were to finally get their toys back.  They each have their own room and I have NOT had an argument between Cam and Miss Missy in the last TWO DAYS! 

Hallelujah!!

The schools and the hospital are within walking distance.  Miss Missy’s school is right across the street.  In the morning, I walk her to the corner and she crosses with the crossing guard right up to the school playground!  No work for me!  No bus.  Now waking up before the sun!

The boys go to a different school.  The schools are split K-2 and 3-5.  Their school is also within walking distance.  I can see it from my backdoor.  I walked them halfway this morning and they were at the school in no more than 8 minutes.  They are ready to ride their bikes and take that long ride by themselves, but being the protective mom that I am, I’m just not ready.  There’s tons of construction going on and I’m a little nervous about letting them be around the traffic by themselves.  They are begging to do it by themselves and I’m sure they can, but… THEY'RE MY BABIES!!!!

Okay, the cable guy is coming to turn on my cable and internet today and I’m more excited about that than anything. I’ve been without since Sunday and I’m beside myself wondering what I have missed… on Facebook… because I’m nosy like that…

I learned to take a new picture!

Today I learned that in order to take pictures in the dark with my DSLR, I have to take the camera out of auto focus!  TWO YEARS it has taken me to figure that out!  Aint that somethin'?

Entire graduating class of young Black Americans accepted into college!

You send your kids to school in hopes that they will do their best and succeed.  
High school is a challenging time for kids.  Urban Prep is a school that is dedicated to the success of its students.  An all boys school, all 104 African American young men have been accepted to college!  A huge feat for any school, but a repeat achievement for Urban Prep.  Yes, for 2 years in a row, all of the graduating class of this phenomenal boys school are able to attend college and further his success, many with extensive amounts of scholarships and grant money being paid on their behalf.  


It's every parents' dream to see their child go off to college.  This is the beginning of a brighter future.  For many of these families, these boys will be the FIRST in their family to step foot inside a college, so the achievement is that much sweeter.  



Urban Preps mission is "The mission of Urban Prep is to provide a comprehensive, high-quality college preparatory education to young men that results in graduates succeeding in college." 

Their goal is to reverse the poor graduation rates among those living in Urban communities, particularly among young Black men, and to give more of these African American men a chance a a successful future.

I'd say that based on the last 2 years, they are making that happen! 

Gee, thanks...

CJ:  Did you put powder on Ginger (the dog) to stop her from itching?


Me:  No, I put it on her to try to get rid of her funk.


CJ:  Well, I guess I need to start putting powder on my feet.


Miss Missy to CJ:  She puts it on her armpits.


Wow, is nothing sacred between mother and daughter?

MEN!

Bought a hot new pair of heels today.  Hubs says, "Those shoes look alright, but don't you think they might break?"

WHAT THE HECK ARE YOU TRYING 

TO SAY?!?!?!?!

"Friends Wanted"

Back home, I became friends with a girl who, once we started hanging out, stuck to me like glue.  I'm not great with the friends thing.  I mean, I'm friendy-LY, but I don't take on many friends at all.  

But this girl was persistent, to say the least.


We'll call her GiGi.

GiGi had just moved into the neighborhood from Germany.  She and her hubby were military.  She was of Italian and Germany decent and this was her first time away from home.  She has a 3rd grader, who was in my son's class and a toddler that was just starting to walk.  We met at my neighbor's house, they were having a birthday party or some kinda get together... don't really remember.

When I first saw her, I remember thinking how pretty she was.  I also remember wondering if my husband was checking her out.  She must have really been beautiful because not many people can make me insecure!  


Later, I invited her to Miss Missy's birthday party.  Miss Missy was turning 4 and she had daughters, soooo....


Well, after that, there wasn't a day that went by that I didn't hear from her.  Our husbands deployed around the same time.  I think GiGi, well I know GiGi became pretty lonely.  She didn't let me forget that she needed something to do... everyday of the week.   


See, for me, deployment wasn't a devastating thing.  I was okay with being by myself.  I was okay with just spending my days to myself and spending my evenings with my kids.  GiGi... not so much.  

The phone calls came everyday like clockwork.  


"Kay, what are you doing today? Can I come over?"


"Kay, what are you doing today?  Wanna go to the mall?"


"Kay, what are you doing today?  Wanna take the kids to Monkey Joes?  Chuck E. Cheese?  Bowling?  The Movies?"


It became expensive to me GiGi's friend.  While I liked the girl, she was impeding on my ME time!

I continued to hang with her because, like I said, she was a sweet girl and we had a lot of laughs together.  I knew that she was lonely.  She didn't know how to be without her husband.  She was her whole world and the idea of not having him there and actually having to "be a mom" scared her to death!  

GiGi was a diva, much like herself.  

You know, the so-not-a-minivan-girl type.  

The heels-to-a-football-practice type. 

The never-to-be-caught-without-lip-gloss type.  

The makeup-at-the-gym wearing type.

She was one that I enjoyed having run in my circle.


But OMG was she clingy!  It got so bad that I had to start forwarding her to voicemail.  Making up excuses.  Finding other things to do.


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Now, I understand how she felt as I long for female companionship more than I ever have before.  In Grooveytown, I may not have hung out with friends a lot, but they were there when I wanted to.


Here, and I know this sounds pathetic, but I find myself looking at women, sizing them up for potential girlfriends.  I find myself wanting someone to hang out with, who laughs at the same things I laugh at and likes the same things that I like.  


I know how she felt now that I'm in her shoes.  I'm not the stalker, constant phone calls, buggaboo type, but I can understand longing for a friendship.


Now, I feel a little pathetic....

Valentines... Bahh HUMBUG!

Valentines Day.

I've never been a fan.  

It's a day the more money you spend, the more LOVE you have for your significant other.  

It's a day where the bigger the bouquet, the more bragging rights you get at the office.  

Again, not a fan.  Why is there one day out of the year when you are suppose to show your love through candy and flowers, or if you're really lucky, jewelry or a car.

Which brings me to Hubs and my first Valentine's Day together.  I got a car.  A Mitsubishi Mirage.  We were just a few weeks shy of moving to Germany on our first PCS tour together and he drove to my parents' house in a car.  I was expecting him to arrive on the Grey Hound.  Imagine my surprise when he told me to come outside and there was a car out there for me... for us.  We needed a car to take overseas with us.  But it was mine when he bought a hooptie when we got to Germany.

Nice.  He never topped that Valentine's Day gift.

Valentine's Day is not my favorite holiday.  Matter of fact, unlike MOST women, it's my LEAST favorite.  I have never been a fan.  In High School, I wasn't the one receiving tons of candy grams or carnations, probably because my boyfriends were loser high school drop outs.  

I dread the day when I have to pick out a gift that means I love you for a man.  You can't give men roses (so says my husband).  I can't give a big box of candy because my husband would never let me forget how he doesn't really care for sweets (unless it's right in front of him).  I tried a personally hand-made card that I thought was adorable with words from my heart, but the feedback was more along the lines of, "You couldn't even buy me a real card?"  

I never have money to spend on a gift because, well... I don't have a job and it just seems kinda not right to buy someone a gift with their own hard-earned money.  

I.am.so.not.the.romantic.

Neither is Hubs.  Romance has never been our thing.  Romance is kinda corny to me.  I feel dumb when I try to be romantic.  That's why Valentine's Day SUCKS!  There I said it.  I SUCK at romance and so therefor someone should turn and arrow on that damn cupid!  

THE END!

Looking back...

A little over a year ago, I posted THIS post about my confidence.  To date, it is one of my favorite posts because confidence is my one my favorite traits... in myself and in others.

Read it again here.