Thursday, February 18, 2010
Can't believe the week is more than halfway over. So much stuff happened so quickly. Saturday was the day after chemo, so pretty chill. Cleaned the house for new year, always my favorite activity (I'm not even being sarcastic). Over time, the chemo is wearing me down, so I don't bounce back quite so well. Feeling tired and blimpy. Sunday, on the otherhand, was amazing. Slept all morning, then woke up to a surprise from my husband. Chocolate, flowers, monkey, and something pink; he really understands I need to feel like a girl again. We headed out to the local greek festival for lunch. It was small-town endearing, with a sea of white hair. Loukomades! Fried balls of dough drizzled with cinnamon, honey, and toasted nuts! Then slept all afternoon. Wilbur was so bored he beat Metal Gear Solid 4. V-Day dinner at Ruth's Chris. We were the only table in our section to get little confetti roses. Ha! Beat that, old people. Actually, watching these sweet old couples get all dressed up on their dates was really cute. Monday drove out to SG. So good to be home and so good to be surrounded by delicious, delicious food. Went to see Dr Lim at Cedars, who I highly recommend to anyone. Wilbur mocks me for being too clean and tells me to roll in the dirt. Return home with a tummy full of boba and (chicken) pho. Tuesday? LOST!!! Did you see all that light/dark/biblical symbolism? While monching on tang yuen (湯圓). Ahh, life is good. Wednesday, had to work, no time to read Lost blog on ew.com. Watched L Vonn and S White win gold. Thursday ... that reminds me, time to read Lost blog.
Sunday, February 14, 2010
Oh happy day
Song stuck in my head all day
每條大街小巷 每個人的嘴裡 見面第一句話 就是恭喜恭喜 恭喜恭喜恭喜你呀 恭喜恭喜恭喜你 冬天一到盡頭真是好的消息 溫暖的春風 吹醒了大地 恭喜恭喜恭喜你呀恭喜恭喜恭喜你 恭喜恭喜恭喜你呀 恭喜恭喜恭喜你 皓皓冰雪溶解 眼看梅花吐蕊 慢慢花也活絡 聽到一聲雞啼 恭喜恭喜恭喜你呀 恭喜恭喜恭喜你 經過多少困難 經歷多少磨練多少心兒盼望 春天的消息 恭喜恭喜恭喜你呀恭喜恭喜恭喜你 恭喜恭喜恭喜你呀 恭喜恭喜恭喜你
每條大街小巷 每個人的嘴裡 見面第一句話 就是恭喜恭喜 恭喜恭喜恭喜你呀 恭喜恭喜恭喜你 冬天一到盡頭真是好的消息 溫暖的春風 吹醒了大地 恭喜恭喜恭喜你呀恭喜恭喜恭喜你 恭喜恭喜恭喜你呀 恭喜恭喜恭喜你 皓皓冰雪溶解 眼看梅花吐蕊 慢慢花也活絡 聽到一聲雞啼 恭喜恭喜恭喜你呀 恭喜恭喜恭喜你 經過多少困難 經歷多少磨練多少心兒盼望 春天的消息 恭喜恭喜恭喜你呀恭喜恭喜恭喜你 恭喜恭喜恭喜你呀 恭喜恭喜恭喜你
Valentine's Day with my husband
for the first time
for the first timeWednesday, February 10, 2010
Are my glasses on top of my head?
At Dr. Smith's office, the receptionist greeted me with a "There you are! We were just going to call you!" I was surprised, shocked, even. Wha??? Wasn't my appointment at 11:20? Oh, you're on the schedule for 10:20. Silly me. The front desk girl tossed off a breezy "Blame it on chemo brain."
Indeed? How PC. Chemo brain is a woefully named phenomenon many patients experience after cancer treatment, including problems with concentrating, multitasking, memory, and word retrieval. Some 15% have lasting effects even after treatment ends. Bumfart! Shazaam! And other expletives my addled brain comes up with. The most dire comments hint that brain shrinkage can occur. I'm not just killing cancer cells, I'm killing brain cells! I'm not just going bald, I'm going blond! (I keed, I keed)
I ponder deeply ... if whether this is what's feeding my sudden fascination with "The real housewives of orange county" or if this solves my new mysterious propensity of writing shopping lists then misplacing the list then leaving the store without buying what I needed. Bread! How difficult it is to remember 'bread'!!
New evidence of epic brain fail: I took the Census test, where the questions were like "Put these dates in chronological order" or "Count how many houses are on route from Spot A to Spot B." And I missed one. Out of 28. Which I can't even calculate what percentage that is. Now to put this in perspective, Wiggin took her super hard medical school pharmacology test. And missed one. See??
This is the most nonsensical story I've heard about, read and be scared!!
"Another patient, Patrick, a diagnostic radiologist treated for non-Hodgkin’s lymphoma at age 58, had to quit his job when he realized he was making mistakes. “I would lose my place and have to go back and start over with an exam,” he said. “I tried to explain a procedure to a patient and I got very confused.” At the supermarket, Patrick and his wife put groceries in the car, then he drove off without her. He forgot pots on the stove until the smoke detector went off. Upset by the loss of his former self, he contemplated suicide. "
http://www.nytimes.com/2009/08/04/health/04brod.html
Haha he ditched his wife at the market. And got away with blaming it on chemo brain!! Hmm this could come in handy ...
Help! If it's a matter of inevitability, maybe I could try to smarten myself before I dumben. I need a brain gym, be it Kumon, sudoku, mah jong, Smart Water!
Now, where did I put my glasses? ...
Indeed? How PC. Chemo brain is a woefully named phenomenon many patients experience after cancer treatment, including problems with concentrating, multitasking, memory, and word retrieval. Some 15% have lasting effects even after treatment ends. Bumfart! Shazaam! And other expletives my addled brain comes up with. The most dire comments hint that brain shrinkage can occur. I'm not just killing cancer cells, I'm killing brain cells! I'm not just going bald, I'm going blond! (I keed, I keed)
I ponder deeply ... if whether this is what's feeding my sudden fascination with "The real housewives of orange county" or if this solves my new mysterious propensity of writing shopping lists then misplacing the list then leaving the store without buying what I needed. Bread! How difficult it is to remember 'bread'!!
New evidence of epic brain fail: I took the Census test, where the questions were like "Put these dates in chronological order" or "Count how many houses are on route from Spot A to Spot B." And I missed one. Out of 28. Which I can't even calculate what percentage that is. Now to put this in perspective, Wiggin took her super hard medical school pharmacology test. And missed one. See??
This is the most nonsensical story I've heard about, read and be scared!!
"Another patient, Patrick, a diagnostic radiologist treated for non-Hodgkin’s lymphoma at age 58, had to quit his job when he realized he was making mistakes. “I would lose my place and have to go back and start over with an exam,” he said. “I tried to explain a procedure to a patient and I got very confused.” At the supermarket, Patrick and his wife put groceries in the car, then he drove off without her. He forgot pots on the stove until the smoke detector went off. Upset by the loss of his former self, he contemplated suicide. "
http://www.nytimes.com/2009/08/04/health/04brod.html
Haha he ditched his wife at the market. And got away with blaming it on chemo brain!! Hmm this could come in handy ...
Help! If it's a matter of inevitability, maybe I could try to smarten myself before I dumben. I need a brain gym, be it Kumon, sudoku, mah jong, Smart Water!
Now, where did I put my glasses? ...
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
True dat, mama
Reading something the other day that rang true:
Woe to those who are wise in their own eyes and clever in their own sight (Isaiah 5:21).
There isn't a day that goes by that doesn't hold its own lesson. Sometimes I get a little self-absorbed when it comes to treatment and etc, and get wrapped in my own head, mince on words, and brush off good intentions. I suppose that means I'm getting a wee too full of myself, glorifying the status of suffering in silence. In effect, refusing help because I can do it on my own. Sorry, just a matter of habit. I think of all the people who want to help me so badly, and I'm just marginalizing them.
In any case, who am I to assume that I've got it all figured out?
Was lectured by mom about something the other day that rang true:
If nothing else, consider that if I am not trying everything in my power to heal this illness, I may regret. Especially, heal if not for mine then for my husband's sake, because if I continue to be sick for many years, I will be the cause of his hardship and 辛苦.
Woe to those who are wise in their own eyes and clever in their own sight (Isaiah 5:21).
There isn't a day that goes by that doesn't hold its own lesson. Sometimes I get a little self-absorbed when it comes to treatment and etc, and get wrapped in my own head, mince on words, and brush off good intentions. I suppose that means I'm getting a wee too full of myself, glorifying the status of suffering in silence. In effect, refusing help because I can do it on my own. Sorry, just a matter of habit. I think of all the people who want to help me so badly, and I'm just marginalizing them.
In any case, who am I to assume that I've got it all figured out?
Was lectured by mom about something the other day that rang true:
If nothing else, consider that if I am not trying everything in my power to heal this illness, I may regret. Especially, heal if not for mine then for my husband's sake, because if I continue to be sick for many years, I will be the cause of his hardship and 辛苦.
Saturday, February 6, 2010
Friday, February 5, 2010
Beef, it's what's for dinner
(Ed. note: 2nd version, due to unintentional page refresh lacking ctrl+c)
Excuse me, beefatarians, this may pain you: i don't beef. Chateaubriand, double-doubles, kalbi, french onion soup, anything that smacks of bovine, I just don't eat. And I haven't eaten for ... nearly two decades. Until mama stepped in. Mama lovingly cooks beef dishes, ones that Wilbur gives thumbs up to, and expects her daughter/patient to eat every bite. The horror. I chug down each chewy juicy meatiness, rather than let it macerate on my taste buds. But I swallow it like it was my pride. I acted rude, boorish, mercilessly disdainful, and it wasn't even successful! I still have to eat beef. Why? Because the people I love do everything in their power to care for me, I show my appreciation: I suppress the gag reflex and open my palate with a grateful heart.
Excuse me, beefatarians, this may pain you: i don't beef. Chateaubriand, double-doubles, kalbi, french onion soup, anything that smacks of bovine, I just don't eat. And I haven't eaten for ... nearly two decades. Until mama stepped in. Mama lovingly cooks beef dishes, ones that Wilbur gives thumbs up to, and expects her daughter/patient to eat every bite. The horror. I chug down each chewy juicy meatiness, rather than let it macerate on my taste buds. But I swallow it like it was my pride. I acted rude, boorish, mercilessly disdainful, and it wasn't even successful! I still have to eat beef. Why? Because the people I love do everything in their power to care for me, I show my appreciation: I suppress the gag reflex and open my palate with a grateful heart.
Monday, February 1, 2010
Re: Day 82-84
Through three years of dating, one year of engagement, 8 months of marriage, I have never known who my husband truly is. I always joke that I understand him 95%, whereas he understands me 59%. Now I discover, my husband is an onion. Or Trident gum. In any case, this boy's got layers!
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