Maiwage, Blueberries, and the last radiation treatment

The wedding planning has begun. As expected, the visit to the venue yesterday was a big eye opener. $4,000 and that isn't food. Or DJ. Or Bar. Or dress. Or, or, or... They are narrowing down colors and dates. All the exciting details that seem so important from this side of the altar, and after the fact you think what the hell was I thinking spending $300 on X stupid thing?

For Kelly and I we are trying to process. What is a realistic budget for us to contribute? What things to we feel strongly about? What tools do we need to make sure she has that we haven't given her?

Our usual coping mechanism, mocking, has worked for us. We brainstormed all of the people we know who are already ordained to perform marriages. We brainstormed all of the people who would be willing to become ordained to perform marriages. We wondered if an entire wedding ceremony could be done in movie quotes.

We've pitched all kinds of ideas for representing their mixed marriage. Forget religion, this is liberal/conservative. Hippie/vs. hippie distainers. Spy vs. Spy. Well, maybe not that last one...

In all, we have accepted this is their lives and they have to live them. We remember being that age and knowing that we knew everything. That love would conquer all. That our parents were wrong about him/her and we could make it work. Now we are those parents...

This is not to say we disapprove or believe it will be a disaster. It is just that it is a little too easy to get swept up in the wedding part of it and forget about the marriage part of it. There is no "Say Yes to the Dress" equivalent to "Do we pay the electricity bill or buy groceries?" There is "Four Weddings" but not four days of overtime and no clean underwear. Being a grownup looked like fun, didn't it?

We will spend the next year planning, cramming as many strategies and platitudes into them as we can, and hoping, as all parents do, that it all comes out okay. Dr. F. observed yesterday regarding parenting adult children, "You have a front row seat to something you have no control over." Wise man, Dr. F

There is no smooth transition to blueberries, I'm afraid. They continue to thwart me. I actually wrote blueberries suck on the bathroom mirror after my third spray this morning. I know I am just being lazy. I need to strain the blueberries after blending. There are a few issues with that. In some cases, the blueberries are already in something. That means you have to strain the whole blend. This wastes a lot of food, is time consuming, and also makes a big mess. I could strain the blue berries separately in other cases, but once blended they really should be used right away.  Making more work for myself at this point does not excite me. Of course neither does cleaning blueberry off of everything in sight.

Today was the last radiation treatment. Renee was gone but Rick was back. There were still no small gowns, so I swam into radiation in a tent. We had mask wrestling again today. I just can't quite get my chin up. Today on the second try I managed to wrestle it most of the way on and then held it in place while they pulled my body down the table, effectively forcing my chin up. Not pleasant, but not horrible. Despite cut outs for my port and trach wound, the mask still digs into them a little. I remembered that the slide to the left helped yesterday, so I wiggled over a little and it helped. Mask on, chains grasped and we are a go.

The first song that came on was Willie Nelson, Georgia on my Mind. To me this is a good sign. I am a long time Willie Nelson fan. My poor husband even took me to see him at the Cuthbert, sitting in the rain. Also, it of course made me think of Aunt Sylvia. Although she doesn't read my "Blob" I know she thinks about me and prays for me all the time.

I could not begin to tell you what the second song was. Something upbeat and pop-like. At that point I had slipped into focusing on "direct, protect and heal." Envisioning beaming whatever vestiges of cancer might remain from my body.

When they came in and pulled the mask off, it seemed almost unreal that it was over. I got a big hug from Rick and a high five from Renee's stunt double (whom I am embarrassed to admit I could not name on a bet. Big tall guy?) I took my mask home and need to find a place to mount it. I have my other one up already. It creeps Karina out, but for me it says, "you think you are having a bad day- think again."

So the final tally including 2008. Six cancer related surgeries. Ten chemo treatments. 56 radiation treatments counting the one from March. Hundreds, maybe even thousands of hours, at doctors appointments, in hospitals, having tests, and treatments from the pit crew. Hundreds of get well cards. Countless friends helping out in thousands of ways. Dozens of meals delivered to us. Blessings enumerable.

Yesterday Joel and Kelly posted a video of him on my Facebook page. I wanted to hear how he speaks. It was good! The future of my own speech is unknown, so it was nice to hear him speak. But more than that. We got to see their kids. See his new cancer and what they are coping with there. They are family. I don't know how to explain it, but the love and connection I feel with them is so tangible. Social media maybe a time suck. Maybe even the downfall of Western Civilization. But it brought these wonderful people (and others- Janet, Tammy, Ron, I'm looking at you guys,) into my life. For that I will be ever so grateful. I am so hopeful that the third time will be the charm for both of this and we can be done with this cancer once and for all.

If I had to choose, I certainly wouldn't have chosen this. However, I learned so much about myself. I learned how much I am loved by so many people. I got to experience truly the milk of human kindness. I saw my husband rise to occasions no one should have to rise to. I got to have the figure and fingernails I always wanted, albeit with more hardware than I would like. There is good in every bad. This was very bad, and in return there was a lot of good. For that, I have you to thank.

Tomorrow is the first day of the rest of my life. Until then,

Love,
Kiara