I have a big heart

Holy freaking crap. What I am about to type sort of blows my mind. I am not convinced I have totally let this sink in. In fact, I know I haven't. But, it is what it is. So, I don't have a heart tumor.

Yea.

Exactly.

The doctor called me on Monday. I went totally numb as soon as I answered the phone, mostly out of practice from doing this so often. Then he tells me he has looked at the MRI report and that the mass is in fact a "prominence of a normal structure" (in normal words, a piece of my heart that is just larger than normal). What he was/is concerned with is the "discrepancy of the assessment of size" (see, Mom, I can take notes when I am told to do so). So, basically, either my first cardiologist was an idiot and measuring it incorrectly, or something in my heart got bigger and smaller very quickly. I sat on this for a day before I told most people. I wasn't sure what to take from this, or how to tell all of my friends who have supported and loved me through the last nine months (and especially the last month). The doctor seemed unsure about the original TEEs and wanted to relook at them before deciding about further testing. I was hoping he would call me on Tuesday, but he didn't, and I felt like I had to start telling people. Of course, people were ecstatic, but to be honest, i am still numb. I am not sure if it hasn't hit me, but I just have no emotion about it. Or perhaps I have very mixed emotions. I am obviously happy they don't have to open my chest up and go into my heart. I am happy I don't have to recover in pain for 8-10 weeks (although that time off work was rather enticing). I am, however, bummed that this all happened at the time it did, ruining the opportunity to be in Albuquerque for six months and try out a new adventure. And most of all, I am angry that a doctor made a call that was most likely not correct, and then a second call which was even less correct, and sent me into an emotional tail spin that lasted a month and was filled with frustrated tears and night sweats, not eating or sleeping regularly, and the fear of a very serious surgery and the recovery of it.

So, did you catch the "most likely not correct" in the previous paragraph? The doctor called again today. I love Dr. Fish because he is always so calm and speaks so clearly (except for his phone number, which he reads off at light speed every time). He told me that he had reviewed closely the two previous TEEs and his conclusions were that they had not been done completely. As in, there were images that he would need that he didnt have. Then he tells me is about 80% sure I dont have a tumor. 80% Dr Fish? Yesterday there was no percentage...so why is there one today? And isn't the MRI the better image? Well, he tells me there are angles you can only get from the stomach looking up into the right atrium. So he wants the "experts" at St. Luke's to run a third TEE and get all the images he needs to be sure, before he decides if surgery is necessary. I also though surgery was off the table, Dr. Fish? Yea, most likely, but not guaranteed. I like Dr. Fish, but he in my most favorite of doctors today.

It was a nice 2 days of not being stressed. Within 10 minutes of taking this phone call, my head was hurting and the pain between my shoulder blades was back. That is clearly where I carry stress. So, now we wait, until March 14, for the next TEE. Anyone want to come with me? I am super fun when they drug me up, I say all sort of great things, tell my darkest secrets, and you can ask me anything. Just ask Becky, she was telling me a story I had told her the other day, after the last TEE, and I have zero recollection of ever telling her anything.

And, since this is my blog and I can bitch and moan about whatever i want, let me just say, TEEs suck, and after the first one I swore I would never do it again, and now I am on #3 and it SUCKS! I am so over the IVs, the sore throats from the cameras, and the 6am hospital check-ins. There better be a super hot tech working up at St. Luke's (ok, so now who wants to go???)!

Oh, and just so you all can laugh a bit, you should have seen me almost eat it on the way out of the big AD All Hands meeting this afternoon when the doctor called. I threw off the sandals I was wearing (because I knew i couldn't run in the them) and leapt over about 10 coworkers to get out of the auditorium. And, of course, as I am always super graceful, I almost face planted into one of these said coworkers after catching my foot on my pants. I knew those pants were too big! It was quite the scene.

Check out the pics from the MRI. I have no idea what you are looking at, but they are cool anyway!

Silence

“Saying nothing...sometimes says the most.”
-Emily Dickinson


Tonight, as I sat in the darkness of Jessica's bedroom, rocking little Brylee to sleep after her last bottle, I started to think about how quiet it was. Jess was across the room, sitting on her bed, trying to get Brooklyn to sleep, and Brooklyn was fighting it. Brylee fights it less, she tries, but eventually there is a just a big sigh and she gives in and passes out. Anyway, as we both tried to get these little ones to fall asleep, we talked a little bit, in very hushed voices. But mostly, we just sat there, in the quiet, watching the TV on volume level 1. And it totally made me giggle. See, Jessica and I have spent a lot of time in silence. As I sat there and thought about all the times we have spent in required silence, I almost laughed out loud (which would have been bad, because by then, Brylee was dead weight in my arms) .

So, it all started back when we evacuated for Hurricane Ike (which, by the way, is probably the funniest blog entry I have ever written). We spent three hours in literal silence with 3 cats sleeping peacefully. Every time we would talk, even quietly, one of the cats would make a noise as if to say "uh, shut up, I'm sleeping." Damn cats. By the time we made it to the lake house, I had sat in the back seat of her truck, knees in my chin, next to two furrballs, and not said a word. We made it in time to watch the morning news. Which we watched in silence (mostly because we were both half asleep).

Then there were the many, many, many meetings at work in which we sat across from each other, in the small office, with Katherine between us, and we just talked with our eyes. All three of us. We always knew when the others were pissed (and man were we pissed a lot), and it took no talking to know that someone in the room was mentally updating their resume or thinking of all the places they would rather be. We used to joke that we would keep our keys in our pockets when we went into meeting we thought would piss us off, so that if we wanted to leave suddenly, we didn't have to dig for our purses and keys, they were already on us. Those meetings haven't stopped, although the players have definitely changed. But those initial days, in that little office, in silence, we all talked using our eyes. Our bosses have all told us we don't hide our emotions well. Do you think they know we aren't even slightly trying to hide our emotions?

More recently, we have spent many a drive home from a restaurant or other public place with either 2 screaming babies or 2 sleeping babies. Either way, we drive in silence. Because, if these babies are screaming, we can't hear each other anyway, and if they are sleeping, neither of us wants to be the one to wake them up. Trust me, if 2 twin babies somehow both fall asleep at the same time, you NEVER want to be the one to wake them up.

Now, don't get me wrong. Usually, when Jess and I hang out, we talk like it is going out of style. We talk about work, about life, about whatever we did that day, or about whoever is bugging us, annoying us, or interesting to us. We make plans for ridiculous trips, we bitch about situations that aggravate us, or we predict which baby will be the cheerleader, and which one will get caught underage drinking (I predict Brooklyn for the former, Brylee for the latter, in case anyone is wondering). Like any women, we talk and talk and talk. But sometimes, we don't need to talk. We just know.

Two Fridays ago, Jessica sat in silence next to me while I took the call from the doctor to tell me my tumor had grown. She didn't say anything. I don't think she knew what to say. I certainly didn't know what to say. She sat in silence while I called the next doctor to make my appointment. And when she went with me to the appointment, she sat in silence in the doctor's office, taking notes as instructed (well, until they kicked her out, but that's another story).

Silence is something that can be super powerful. It can be overwhelming or completely necessary. It can be empowering or depressing. Recently I haven't wanted to be alone. I have needed people around me, or people to talk to, or something to do. But it's funny, I can still sit in total silence with my friends. Just knowing they are there, even if it is across the room, is incredibly helpful. I think Emily Dickinson was right, saying nothing sometimes does say the most. It's just being there, without saying a damn thing, that makes it all better. Plus, that silence does make for some damn good stories!

So live like you're never living twice...

It's been a long 2 weeks. I have worked through a lot of emotions, expectations, and confusion recently. The last 12 days have been the craziest roller coaster ride of my entire life, and I am hyper aware that this roller coaster is far from over (those of you who know me well probably also know how much I HATE roller coasters, both figuratively and literally). I have spent a lot of time with my Houston friends (thank you all for keeping me busy) and on the phone with my non-local friends. I have gotten some major things done at work (including selecting 92 students into my program, which always makes me feel accomplished and reminds me why I love my job). And I have organized my life as much as possible, so I don't have a lot of crap to take care of if and when I have to have surgery.

I find that I can be fine one minute, and in tears the next. This happens mostly in 2 scenarios: I am either in the car driving, and something strikes me wrong and my eyes well up, or I am on my couch and my mind begins to wander. The other time I lose it is when I am tired and I look at myself in the mirror. Like really look. Right into my eyes. That is when I have to talk to myself, and tell myself to keep it together. Usually I can hold it together, but if I am alone, in my house, I don't have a shot in hell. (And yes, I talk to myself. What...you don't?)

I have been up until 1am most nights, watching TV or writing. Why 1am? Because that is about the time I am too exhausted to function, and can finally get into bed and just pass out, without thinking too much. I am up at 8 every morning, and starting to wonder how I am functioning on 7 hours of sleep every night, after needing 9-10 hours for most of the last year. I guess the balance of thyroid meds, no sleep apnea, and vitamin D has finally made me feel better, and I am back to not needing a ridiculous amount of sleep to even half function. I have been going pretty much non stop every day to get things done. Literally, I have done more this week than most of last year. I had a leak fixed in my front yard last Thursday. While the plumber was there, I trimmed my lemon tree, went through the junk basket on my kitchen counter, and cleaned the dining room up. I locked myself in to a good electricity rate for the next year. I switched out my Comcast service to make it cheaper. I changed the air conditioning filters (ok, fine, 1 of them, I still have to buy the other one). I finally got all the recycling out of my garage. I have gone through most of my closet and throw away all the clothes that are officially too big for me. I have cleaned out my car (yea, and now it is messy again, but it was clean for about a day). Anyway, you people don't need a list of things, but the idea is, I am keeping myself busy and getting my life organized. However, there is only so many things I can do to distract myself. I guess shopping is the next thing to turn to...this could get expensive.

In the midst of this week though, during all the crap and all the overwhelming stress, there have been some incredibly bright moments. I got some great CD mixes from Sara and Cara (oh look, you rhyme!). I have gotten more emails from people all over the place wishing me the best. I spent an awesome Sunday night at the beach house with Jess, Becky and Dawn, where we laughed more than I have laughed in months (and there is a blog in the works about this hilarious night). The minis are about to be walking, and I have been having so much fun cheering with them when they take a step. They are so proud of themselves when we cheer, and they just grin. Those smiles are priceless. I have been making small plans for thing in the next few weeks, because as we move forward, I feel like I need something to look forward in the near future, and plus, I know this surgery is at least 2 weeks away, so I have a little bit of planning time. We are working on a group for the rodeo one night, and maybe a trip to Austin for SXSW. Ok, so this might not be a small trip, but I have a bunch of friends who will be there this year, so I am thinking it might be time for the road trip. It's hard keeping some semblance of normality right now, but these things help me so much. Also, what helps is when people bring me cupcakes and clean my house. Just in case you are wondering. BUT, if you are coming to clean, you can't judge me on how dirty it is right now. Yea, mom, don't judge, I am just building it up so you can feel extra productive when you arrive and clean. You are welcome.

Lastly (is that really a word?), as I was driving home on Tuesday night, after dropping off Jessica and picking up McDonald's (sans gallbladder, this will always be a bad choice) because I was too exhausted to cook, I heard a song come on to the radio. I have heard this song thousands of times and can sing most of the lyrics, but have never stopped to think about them. And this song hit me hard and fast. And so, as I drove home, bawling my eyes out, mostly from frustration and pure exhaustion, I thought about life, and living it, and not looking back, and just enjoying it. Someone said to me today "life is too short to hate your job, you just have to find what makes you happy." She is right, but not just about work. Life is too short to be unhappy, or to have regrets, or to skip opportunities. You have to take the challenges, learn and grow from them, and keep pushing forward. And so, here you go, the lyrics to the song.

If Today Was Your Last Day (Nickelback)

My best friend gave me the best advice
He said each day's a gift and not a given right
Leave no stone unturned, leave your fears behind
And try to take the path less traveled by
That first step you take is the longest stride

If today was your last day and tomorrow was too late
Could you say goodbye to yesterday?
Would you live each moment like your last
Leave old pictures in the past?
Donate every dime you had, if today was your last day?
What if, what if, if today was your last day?

Against the grain should be a way of life
What's worth the price is always worth the fight
Every second counts 'cause there's no second try
So live like you're never living twice
Don't take the free ride in your own life

If today was your last day and tomorrow was too late
Could you say goodbye to yesterday?
Would you live each moment like your last?
Leave old pictures in the past?
Donate every dime you had?

And would you call those friends you never see?
Reminisce old memories?
Would you forgive your enemies?
And would you find that one you're dreaming of?
Swear up and down to God above
That you'd finally fall in love if today was your last day?

If today was your last day
Would you make your mark by mending a broken heart?
You know it's never too late to shoot for the stars
Regardless of who you are

So do whatever it takes
'Cause you can't rewind a moment in this life
Let nothing stand in your way
'Cause the hands of time are never on your side

If today was your last day and tomorrow was too late
Could you say goodbye to yesterday?
Would you live each moment like your last?
Leave old pictures in the past?
Donate every dime you had?

And would you call those friends you never see?
Reminisce old memories?
Would you forgive your enemies?
And would you find that one you're dreaming of
Swear up and down to God above
That you'd finally fall in love if today was your last day?

St. Luke's Update

Spent my first full day down in the medical center today. I don't have in me a long post, but wanted to get the main points down so I don't leave everyone hanging. Met Dr. Fish for the first time, he and his staff were nothing but nice, and for the first time in a long time, I didn't feel rushed in a doctor's office. He say, he listened, and he made sense of all of my other symptoms and diagnoses. He told me he hadn't seen my images yet, since my first cardiologist's office sort of sucks and sent them to me (via mail, which I have not gotten yet) instead of to Dr. Fish's office. He said he wanted to confirm that the tumor was in fact a benign myxoma and not some other type of growth or tumor. So, he sent me off to schedule a heart MRI. 2 hours later, and a few phone calls to the insurance to get the procedure approved, we left the doctor's office at noon, and had 3 hours to kill before the 3pm appointment.

So, what do 2 hungry girls in downtown do with 3 hours to spare?

Find the MMM Cupcake truck. Duh.

And then went to The Cheesecake Factory (yes, 20 minutes away).

So, after a small break and some much needed food, we headed back to St. Luke's for the MRI. Got there at 2:15, went back at 4:45. Good thing there was an ipad to keep me busy. I take back all the bad things I have said about Angry Birds. When you need a distraction, those little green pigs are awesome! Finally, at 4:45 I was taken back and give an IV, gown, and fancy socks. I will expand on this later because it includes a great conversation about sex in space and a missed vein during the IV starting. Yea, I'm a pin cushion. Anyway, so the MRI itself was interesting, but more than anything else, LONG. I think I was in the machine at least 80 minutes, but probably more like 90-100 minutes. I did some breathing in and out for them, held my breath, and stayed as still as possible.

The doctors should be getting back to me in the next couple of days with some more information. I am working on getting the TEE videos up to the cardiologist so he has all the information he needs to make some decisions. I am also working on keeping it together and taking care of myself. Jessica was with me all day, and while I didn't think she needed to be initially, I would not have made it through today without her. I am lucky to have such an amazing best friend. She kept me busy, cracked me up, and bitched about work at the right times. And she took awesome notes, which I will include in tomorrow's blog, when I have more energy and am not completely drained.

Thanks for all the support and love today, I am sorry if I didn't text you back or answer the phone, I am not up for a whole lot of talking tonight. I'll be back to my old self soon though, I promise!

I'm only being nice to you because you have a heart tumor

Well, I am starting to have less faith in my current cardiologist's office. Good thing I am moving on to the big time downtown. Today the Clear Lake office called to tell me that there was a miscommunication with the future doctor's office, and I in fact was not going to be having an Angiogram on Friday, but rather having a consultation first with my new doctor, and that wouldn't be until next Tuesday. So, while I am happy to not have a catheter wire shoved up my leg right now, I sort of feel like we are just prolonging the inevitable. If you can save your prayers for a little longer, I would be much appreciative.

Also, talked to my good friend Dan at Cigna Healthcare today. He reassured me I have already burned through my $1250 HRA account, and am halfway through my deductible. He also reassured me that I am very soon going to have free healthcare for the rest of the year. He was impressed at how quickly I had done this in 2012. I'm pretty much amazing.

Had dinner tonight with Eve. A year ago today, Eve found out that she had a brain tumor. 2 weeks later she went into a 12 hour surgery to have it removed. She had some good insight for me, despite the fact that I think a brain tumor is about 100 times more scary than a heart tumor. We talked about the frustration, the anger, the sadness and the general feeling of being overwhelmed. About the support that comes out of the woodwork, and about the sudden emotional craziness that your life becomes. Eve knew what to say and what not to say (I know you are all trying, and doing a great job, but it's different when someone can be blatant about it). She reminded me how much this will (and already has) teach me about life, relationships, and happiness. I'm an educator, so I always look for the lesson and what I can learn. And this is one big lesson.

Last weekend on the phone, a certain boy who will remain nameless (because, uh, I think he would kill me for telling this story) told me he was only being nice to me because I had a heart tumor. He was obviously being obnoxious, but I thought it was great, because he was real, and he made me laugh, and he wasn't treating me like I was some breakable fragile object. I mean, clearly I am not exactly breakable in general. I appreciate more than I can express the love and support that has been sent via text, email, facebook and cards (and please don't stop, because the written stuff is good to go back to when I am feeling down), but the people that know me know I don't deal well with pity, and I like to laugh and be happy. And being real with me is the best thing for me right now. You might find me being a little bit more "real" than normal in response (mom, you may or may not have gotten the brunt of my realness earlier this week), but you all know I have a little bit of bitch in me, so it should come as not surprise that it comes out every once in a while. Overall, though, I still would rather hear about the latest gossip regarding the setup of your friend/brother/cousin/coworker with your other friend/coworker/cousin (ok, don't be setting up your cousins...), the stupid thing your boss said to you today/yesterday/just now (or all of the above if you are some of us), or the vacation we are going to plan to Chile/Hawaii/Europe/Maine once this is all over.

Lastly (yea, this was going to be a short post), if you feel like you would like to do something fun for me and you, I am in the midst of requesting fun mixed CD's. Music has been a big thing in my life (the next post will expand on this), and certain music has helped me get through parts of my day recently. So, if you have some favorite songs (that are not sappy love songs or really ridiculous rap) throw them on a CD, give it a creative name, and shoot it my way. I am currently rocking a CD full of TV theme songs and fun 2003 and before sing a long songs. Something more updated would be great. Please note, I grew up on Neil Diamond, The Beacb Boys, and show tunes, so all are especially welcome. Have at it!

Sara sent this to me tonight:


This is the crap that gets me through my days.

Guardian Angels

In my life, I have been fairly lucky to not have known too many people who have passed away. Both of my grandmothers are still alive, and I never knew either of my blood grandfathers. My step grandfather on my mother's side is also still alive, and all three of these grandparents are still very much alive and well.

When I was younger, I thought that there was a life plan to be followed. That you went to college, graduated, worked, fell in love, married, had children, and grew old together. There wasn't ever discussion of the other challenges that would delay this path, or disrupt it completely. No one mentioned difficulty finding a job you loved, or even finding a job at all. The man of your dreams was just going to show up one day and sweep you off your feet. Where he was coming from, that was never an issue. As a teenager, I was naive to thoughts of divorce, infertility, or even death.

I do remember the first person who I ever knew who died. I was in eighth grade. Over the summer, several of us had spent a week doing a peer counseling training. We were trained to be able to work with other students at the school to help resolve situations without having to involve the adults. The woman in charge was pregnant. She was boisterous and connected with all of us (hard to do when most of us were seventh grade girls in the height of hormones and puberty). When we returned to school the following fall, we had our first counseling meeting. It was there that they told us she had passed away during child birth. I don't remember them telling us speficially. What I remember was that evening. I spent the entire night curled up on my bed, with a strange feeling stiring in my head and heart. I was so upset. My grandparents were all still alive (three still are), and I had never experienced death before. This was a new emotion to me, and I didn't like. I am sure my mother thought she was done for that night, because I wouldn't talk, wouldn't eat, wouldn't come out of my room. I just wanted to be left alone. I am not even sure I ever told her what happened that day at school. When you are in eighth grade, any number of things can cause this reaction, so luckily, she probably wasn't too worried.

Over the years, I have experience death only a handful of times since then. In high school, a brother of one of my friends was killed after rappelling from a power lines tower, and catching one of the lines. The entire community mourned him, and I still think of those days as some of the hardest of high school. My best friend's grandfather died before we went to college. We cried together in the upstairs bedroom of a ski lodge, and then again at the funeral. I was crying more for her than for him. He had led a good life, but death will always be the hardest on the people who are left behind. My grandfather died when I was in college. I had met him once, when I was an infant, but it still hurt to know I would never know that part of my life, my family history. It was a different kind of loss, and I mourned for my father and his pain. A close friend from high school died several years ago. I didn't attend her funeral, but it helped me to be able to talk about the fond memories we had when we were in school together. She had struggled in life so much between high school and her death, and I really believe that she is in a better place.

In 2004, Chris passed away. He was killed in Iraq. I will never forget the night I found out. I was sitting on the couch in Manzanita, our apartment at camp. There were 6 or 7 other instructors eating dinner with me, and I had a voicemail. When I heard Joy's voice on the message, I knew something was wrong. I knew instantly it was Chris. That night I took 15 5th graders on a night hike. We hiked and hiked and hiked and I sat in the dark with them, watched the stars, and thought about death. I had seen Chris only months before, and now he was gone. Chris' funeral was packed, there were people from his entire life in one room, celebrating this amazing man. I sat in that church completely humbled with how many people one man can touch, and how he gave his life for the rights that so many of us take for granted. I think about Chris and his family every March. And I know he is somewhere, drinking a beer and laughing like he always did.

Only 3 months later, I woke up one morning found myself sitting at breakfast when our director came out to tell us that one of our grounds staff had passed away over night. We were all shocked. Moose was such a gentle guy, with a wicked sense of humor, and he had been at camp for years. He had been at a party the evening before and had walked past me, tickled my foot (which was up on the edge of a couch after a knew injury had put me on crutches a few days before), and given me a wink. Three hours later, he laid down in bed and had a heart attack. His death shook us all, and made it hard to go on and teach that week. He reminded us all that we were a family, and that when someone passes away, you have to lean on each other and come together to help each other through it.

And then last year, there was Suzy. Suzy's death, like the woman from my middle school days, was hardest perhaps because it was so sudden and unexpected. When someone passes away from sickness or old age, there is a certain semblance of relief. There is also often some warning. When I was told Suzy had passed away, I was numb. I think Jessica had to repeat herself four times. And even then, my brain wouldn't let me understand that she was talking about Suzy. Our friend Suzy. The happy go lucky woman who had given birth three days prior. We were in a room at work next to the main ballroom. I still can't go into that room without getting upset. I just stared at Jessica for awhile, and clung to her as she cried. She had known for several hours, and had come to work to tell me. It was 8:15am, and I was 15 minutes away from addressing a room full of college students and starting a 2 day program for them. That talk never happened. I stood in the middle of the room for a little while with Jessica and we just hung on to each other. The tears didn't arrive immediately, but I am more more apt to cry when someone else is crying, i think out of pure emotion for that person, so once the tears arrived, they flowed freely. Suzy's funeral, much like Chris', was packed. The overflow room was to capacity. Pictures of her smiling face ran on an overhead, as part of a slideshow. We sat, an entire row of her coworkers and friends, and cried for the world's loss. It has almost been a year since Suzy passed away, and I still miss her and think about her. Every single day. I think about what she would say to me now (and oh would she have a TON to say to me these days), and how she would make me laugh, and tell me not to worry about anything. She was always happy, and always smiling. Sometimes, when I am sad, I try to channel her positivity.

After losing special people in your life, you do start to think about your beliefs of souls, heaven, and angels. I am not religious, per se, but I definitely have spiritual beliefs. And when you go through something like what I am facing, you begin to have to lean on these beliefs more and more. And so, I find a lot of solace in the ideas that the people that I have lost in my life, or even the people who died before I was born, are out there, somewhere, watching over me, taking care of me, and carrying me when I can't carry myself. These are my guardian angels. And recently, when I get into bed at night, these are the people I think about. And the people whose memories calm me down. And who make me feel safe. And for that, and that alone, I am thankful to have had the opportunity to know these amazing people, to have shared time with them in my life, and to hold them in my heart (oh the irony of that statement) as I make it through this challenge in my life.

Short update

For those of you keeping track, and so I can avoid having to repeat this information 778 times, went to the doctor's yesterday. The tumor has grown from 1.5cm last May to 2.6cm last week. My right atrium has also begun to dilate, apparently to make room for the blood to flow through my heart around the tumor. I guess an inch mass in the middle of your atrium creates a need for the heart to expand to be able to pump the blood through my heart at the same rate.

I am headed to St. Luke's at 7am on Friday morning for the Angiogram, and then hopefully we will know a bit more. Parents arrive Thursday night and are here until Sunday, unless something comes up on Friday that requires them to stay. I will be sedated most of Friday, but hopefully am coming home Friday night or sometime Saturday. I'll have my phone, and might be funny if you call me and I answer while drugged. Feel free to try it!

Thank you for all the emails, phone calls, thoughts, and prayers. I am working on getting back to everyone, but I am a little overwhelmed, and hitting the point where I am just trying to make it to Friday. If you actually want to talk to me, your best bet is Facebook around midnight, when I can't sleep and am just trying to distract myself. Someone asked me at work yesterday how I could possibly focus. I told him I couldn't. But, work is a good distraction, and I am lucky to be able to surround myself with my amazing friends in Houston, who keep me busy and check on me often. And of course, these two are the best distraction of all:

Love you all!

The one about the tumor growing...

Those of you who know me well, or have talked to me recently, know I am big into quotes these days. If I am sad, or lonely, or inspired, or really feeling any emotion at an extreme, I like to look at quotes about said emotion. This can lead to some awesomely ridiculous Facebook statuses, or to me finding a quote that just is exactly right for the occasion. Tonight, I have found some quotes that seem particularly fitting for the day (and week) I have had:

Life is a shipwreck but we must not forget to sing in the lifeboats. ~Voltaire

The human spirit is stronger than anything that can happen to it. ~C.C. Scott

If children have the ability to ignore all odds and percentages, then maybe we can all learn from them. When you think about it, what other choice is there but to hope? We have two options, medically and emotionally: give up, or fight like hell. ~Lance Armstrong


I know this blog is usually somewhat upbeat, and people like to tell me that I should write books, or at least write comedy. I also know that some of my recent posts from 2011 haven't been the most upbeat. This one will probably be along the same lines.

My cardiologist called me today. That's right, 2 days after my TEE, and I had this voicemail on my phone, direct from Dr. T. So, being the good patient that I am, I called him back. And after being put on hold a few times and getting transferred to the nurse, my stomach pretty much dropped out of my stomach. The tumor has grown. Significantly. No idea what this really means, since I was too shocked to ask the right questions (or any questions at all). They had made me an appointment. For next Friday. At St. Luke's. With a new doctor, Dr. Fish. For an Angiogram. As far as I can tell, the angiogram will help to show the doctors the flow of blood in my heart, and specifically the flow of blood to the tumor. The nurse who I spoke with about the procedure explained in pretty good detail, but started talking about balloons and stints, neither of which I think really are what they will do to me, since they will eventually want the tumor out, not just pushed to one side. I guess we will talk options after the angiograms. Never really thought I would be talking about options at age thirty. At least options for me.

So, after I finished taking notes on the back of my CVS receipt about things such as to make sure I packed an overnight bag for the hospital, and to fast after midnight (I am a pro at this by now), I hung up, and just stared at Jessica, who was sitting next to me in my car, and I don't think knew what to say to me. At that moment, the cupcake truck rolled up for the cupcake fundraiser we were about to have, and I had little choice but to plaster on a smile and greet my friends for the next 45 minutes as we sold a ridiculous amount of cupcakes to raise money for our Avon walk. Probably this was the best thing that could have happened, because it is incredibly powerful to have so many close friends of yours show up to support you in something so meaningful to begin with. People came, bought cupcakes, gave hugs, and visited briefly before going their separate ways for the weekend. It really was cool to see everyone, and gave me the distraction I needed at that point.

After we sold out of cupcakes in record time (ok, no idea if it was really record time, but I'm going with it), we headed in to hang out at Bullritos and wait for stragglers, and then grabbed dinner with Jenny and the boy next door at the sandwich place (Caitlin, I know this is your favorite, and I totally thought of you!). I made it through dinner and into the car before I called my mom and discussed this with her. I made it through that conversation and half way to Veronica's before I lost it. I have cried in my car before, it is actually the best place to cry because there is music, good climate control, and really tinted windows. I am super ugly when I cry (trust me, I checked today), so it is better to be in a tinted environment. I also (and this is something that only my close friends ever knew about me) have this chicken pox scar under my left eye that turns red when I cry, and stays red long after the tears are gone. It's kind of my thing, and I have known about it since high school. Weird, but true. (Dont you feel like you know me so much better now?) Anyway, so I cried, pulled it together, and rolled over the Veronica's, where we proceeded to talk life for 2 hours. That was just what I needed. Sorry to all of you who I texted and them promptly ignored, but I needed to talk to someone, and Veronica was pretty much the perfect choice.

Eventually I drove home, and cried some more. It is weird though, I was not really crying about the tumor, or even the fear of what the tumor could end up doing or being. I mean, I think that might have been some of it, but really, I think I was upset about the impact this is about to have on my life. Hmm, sounds selfish as I write it. I guess I don't mean it quite like that. But, then again, it is my tumor, and so I guess I can be a little selfish. So, I am supposed to move to NM. In like 2 weeks. Somehow I feel like this just got derailed. I am not positive, but the timing is just horrendous. And those of you who know me well know I am pretty laid back, but like to have control over my own life. I couldn't care less what you do in your life, but in mine, I like control. And planning. And knowing. And all of a sudden, that is all out of the window. And I just realized I didn't want to deal with it. I cried in the shower for a few minutes. I'm not a huge crier, mostly because I usually get to the point (really quickly) where I can't figure out what crying is going to help. However, I am big believer in the release of tension through crying, and how important this is. So, I'm in the shower, crying and snotty and gross (crying with a cold sucks), and I look down at my legs, and all I can think is "damn, I am going to have to shave my entire leg for this procedure. Damn. That sucks!" And somehow, as I sort of giggled to myself, I realized I was ok, and was going to be ok. If you can still be annoyed with having to shave your legs, things just can't be all that bad.

I have been super positive (or mostly at least) since last March. And I have faced some hideous tests in life (even as I write this, though, I can't help but think how other people in my life has faced things that are so much worse than any of my problems...). And this might be the ones that cracks me. I am trying to be positive, but I am just done. I just want it out. I want my life back, and I want to not have to deal with the surprises life likes to throw at me anymore. Just for a few months. Just something easy for a while. So, we will see. I guess what they say, about whatever doesn't kill you makes you stronger (which I have always unconditionally believed), really is true. And this will just be the next test. I hope I am strong enough to get through it. And if I am not, at least I have some awesome people to lean on and let take care of me. And for that, I am so thankful. So thanks for getting me through this (in advance), thanks for making me laugh, bringing me ice cream, and cleaning my house for me (hey, a girl can try, right?). I'm working on being positive about this, and laughing through life as I have done for 30 years, so we will see how it all goes...Good Lord, what a crazy ride!

TEE #2

So today was my second TEE. The first one way last May, you can read about that here. Anyway, so after having a TEE already, I was more aware of what to expect. This might be a good thing, might be a bad thing. It might have helped if I hadn't gotten super sick the day before, and had to stay at home in bed ALL day log sleeping to get rid of the horrendous sore throat. It seems since the tonsils are gone, anytime I get a sore throat, it just burns and burns, and hurts oftentimes more than it did when I had the tonsils. Still glad I got rid of them, but man, these sore throats sucks. Anyway, enough of that tangent. So, I was somewhat nervous about the procedure starting last night. I dont get nervous about the tumor (aka Henry) too often, mostly because I dont have symptoms that would lead me to believe anything was going terribly wrong in my heart. But last night I got nervous. I guess it was a 2 parter. First, the procedure itself is pretty miserable. I mean, they give you good drugs, and you don't remember (or are not supposed to remember) the actual camera in the throat, but it still sucks. I was also nervous for what they might find. I mean, symptoms or otherwise, it is never a good feeling to have something weird just hanging out in your heart. I have a lot I want to accomplish this year, and while I will obviously do whatever is needed to deal with this tumor, taking 3 months off to have open heart surgery and recover is not high on the list if accomplishments for this year. Plus, Congress (aka my 7 bosses) will never approve my vacation if I am out for 3 months removing Henry. And I want to go on vacation this year!

So, I rolled into the hospital at 6:15 this morning. It was just me, the security guard, and the EMT groups that were apparently meeting for breakfast in the lobby. Admitting wasn't open yet, so I hung out. At 6:40, when admitting still wasn't open yet, I started to get annoyed. Who tells someone to be there between 6 and 6:30 if your admitting isn't even going to be open at that point?? Luckily, I was too tired (and woozy from sleeping all day the day before) to bring out "Bitchy Deb" and the lady behind the counter did eventually open the doors at 6:45. After having a short argument with her about how I did not owe her $1800 worth of a deductible because I have the world's best insurance, I agreed to pay it and deal with my insurance later. Good thing I had brought my trusty SWA Visa with me, that's basically a free flight worth of money spent in 10 seconds. After I shelled out more than a paycheck for this procedure, the lady behind the counter personally escorted me to the second flood. They weighed me (fasting all morning seemed to have a positive affect on this), showed me to my "room" (aka, curtained off area), and gave me a fancy gown to put on. I was lookin' pretty stylish in my pajama pants and blue and green hospital gown. Good thing I wasn't trying to impress anyone.

My nurse for the morning was Laurie. She had the personality of a brick. Luckily, however, she also had some skills, so this time there was no blownout IV bruise to deal with for the next month. She drew blood and got me all set up, all before 8:30am. This was going much more smoothly than the last time. At some point, Bill rolled in. Now Bill was my nurse who would be with me during the procedure. Bill was clearly in his 50s and liked to be everyone's friend (even Laurie's, who was really not interested). Bill came in, hugged me because he said I looked like I needed it, and then proceeded to ask me 100 questions for his part of the survey. I swear I should have a printout. He then went nextdoor to tell the other guy having a TEE how it was going to go. At some point I hear "Deborah, are you listening? It would really save us all time if I don't have to go over this again..." Really Bill?

So, around 9am, I get rolled back to the procedure room, which is really just through a door to another curtained off hallway. Clear Lake is clearly all about using space to the best potential. There, Bill continued to be my best friend, after he asked me if I might be pregnant (since the bloodwork was slow), and I told him there wasn't a chance in hell, and he laughed and laughed and then asked me if I thought it was possible there could have been an immaculate conception and that I was that blessed. I told him to alert the media if that was the case, and that I would need an agent and book deal ASAP. Anyway, once he stopped laughing, he then was my new best friend, despite being slightly creepy. He told me he wold give me extra drugs since last time I woke up in the middle of the procedure. Then he proceeded to yell across the room at me from the other guy's bed who was also having a TEE. It was basically a three ring circus.

So, eventually Dr. K rolled in to shove a camera down my throat. Luckily, there is more room now, being that I am sans tonsils. They rolled me onto my left side, sprayed my throat with some awesome numbing spray, and went to town. I still have no recollection of the camera going in, but I certainly remember it being down my throat, and choking on it. A LOT. And I remember gagging on it as it came out. Someone was holding my hand, and someone else was holding my head still, despite my best efforts to jerk it back away from the probe. I remember trying to look at the screen and not being able to, which just pissed me off. I should really get to see my own heart, but there was a pillow in the way. I guess this is good, since otherwise my head would have been on the metal guard rail of the bed. Anyway, I tried to relax and let them go to town, but it wasn't quite as smooth as the last time (although, in my defense, I am fairly certain I didn't throw up, and I am pretty sure last time I did, since I woke up in a new gown). Apparently it was a short procedure, like under 10 minutes, and then we were done. I asked the doctor right away how it looked. I don't remember much of his answer other than "good" and that the tumor was still there, and he would need to compare it to past tests, but it appeared to be possibly slight bigger, but he wasn't worried. I figure the fact that he didn't book me into an operating room right then and there says something.

Now, post TEE is the best feeling in the world. You just lay there, all drugged up and out of it, and have no worries, no responsibilities, and no where to be. I sucked on some ice chips (ok, Bill fed me ice chips...I think we are married in some countries now), and listened the other guy have his TEE (his did not go well, as he tried to talk in the middle apparently...not a good idea!). Eventually they rolled me back to the original room where I was able to watch TV and sleep on and off for a while. They actually had to put me back on Oxygen (I just remembered this, I was THAT out of it), because my blood oxygen kept dropping when I would fall asleep. I think I was just that exhausted that I kept forgetting to take deep breaths. I was THAT relaxed. They made me walk around, gave me some water and jello, and went over the 7000 page discharge packet. The new nurse felt the need to read EVERY SINGLE line. I was ready to murder her by page 2.

Eventually she let me roll downstairs and packed me into Becky's awaiting car. I have the best friends in the whole world (let me remind you Becky was the one that picked me up after my gallbladder surgery, which was when I puked fluorescent green into a bag in her car, and yet she still came back)! Becky took me to lunch where I was excited to sort of have an appetite after fasting that morning and not really eating the day before due to a sore throat. I kept down some soup and half a sandwich, and Becky dropped me off at home. I walked inside, sat down on the couch, and opened my computer to email my cousin, who had sent me an email to check in. I woke up a half hour later, still sitting on the couch, computer open, and a half written email on the screen. I moved to my bed and sat up the pillows to finish the email. Woke up two hours later with the same email still on the screen, STILL sitting up. I was seriously drugged and woozy. I don't remember most of last night, other than eating a little bit of french toast (my new favorite dinner), and perhaps making a phone call or two. I understand now why they don't let you drive.

Anyway, so, I am glad the day is behind me. The second time was harder than the first because I knew how miserable it was going to be. The first time I was convinced it would be easy. I was sore today, I think from fighting the probe and having the nurses have to hold my head in place for a while, my neck and shoulders are just pissed. Deep down in my throat, probably my esophagus, is sore when I swallow food, so I am sticking to somewhat soft foods. I am awaiting the results, and not letting the wait get to me. I figure the doctor will call me if it is serious, and I will call the doctor when I haven't heard from him. I don't have any symptoms, no chest pain, no shortness of breath, and I can still keep up a good workout, so I am sure I am fine for the time being. I think it is just important to have a good attitude and enjoy life for what it is. I mean, right? Look at the world around us and how many people have so much worse going on in their lives. I am lucky, I have damn good insurance (I guess we will see how good when they get my reimbursement request from yesterday), good family and friends, and a ton of people who support and love me. I get to go on a great adventure this year and further explore the outdoors and the middle of this country. I will be so much closer (airplane-wise) to so many people in my life, so I will hopefully be making some visits and enjoying some great time with all of you! I know it's a little cliche, but this kind of thing just makes me want to take more advantage of my opportunities and make the best of what this world has to offer. Life is too short to sit around and wait for something to happen, so prepare your foldout couches, cuz here I come!!

Lifetime Movies and Cupcakes!

So this week is SEEC (The Space Educators Exploration Conference). This is my 5th SEEC, and by far the one I am least involved in, which is actually kind of nice. It is the first year I haven't presented (well, ok, last year I didn't present, but I was supposed to until we had a snow day, when it didn't snow and the sun was out by 11am). It is actually kind of nice just to show up for the tours, or the booth, and not have to worry about using actual brain power.

Speaking of brain power, I am finally back to almost 100% brain function. I mean, not that my brain wasn't functioning, but ever since March 2011, i have felt like real focus and thinking required a little too much energy. Now I am able to focus again, and face things head on. We went to Vegas last weekend and I was able to gamble without getting overwhelmed after like an hour (not that I am a huge gambler, but it goes downhill very quickly when I am too tired to focus). Vegas was awesome because it was just a few close friends and we barely left the hotel. Kiyomi met Jessica, Lori, and I at the Golden Nugget and we ate some buffet food for lunch before gambling all afternoon and walking around a bit, and then hitting the beds by 9:30 (no judging, that is 11:30 Houston time, and we had worked all week). Saturday was much of the same, and we made great friends with the dealers by the pool. I finally got my appetite back at some point on this trip, so we ate some great seafood and had amazing dessert on Saturday, and then met up with Erin and Aaron for a little while before Kiyomi and I wimped out and went to bed, again before midnight. Jessica wasn't far behind. We are, apparently, old.

The big move to New Mexico is still on the books, but still nothing is officially official. Apparently some guy way up the chain at the Air Force has to sign something. Government agencies are all the same, people like to sit on things and not sign them for as long as freakin' possible. I mean, seriously people!?! So, I am continuing to prepare for LJ to come and take over my job for 6 months, and hopefully it actually happens so I can get out of Houston, and out of the office, before I lose is completely, quit my job, and move to Australia (don't think I haven't already checked tickets).

I looked up today how to submit a movie idea to Lifetime. I mean, c'mon, I may as well make some money out of that which is my life. I thought this was particularly funny: http://blurtblog.net/2010/04/21/how-to-write-a-movie-for-lifetime-tv/ I don't have all these requirements, but I still think Lifetime would be interested. Apparently I need an agent, anyone interested in representing me? A successful past in representing rich writers and a relationship with Lifetime would both be helpful things for you to have. I have the screenplay basically written on my desktop, entitle "Journal, 2011." I mean, obviously I would need a new title. We have some options at work, but I am totally taking suggestions.

Jessica and I are walking in the Avon Walk for Breast Cancer. Don't worry, you will all get hit up for donations, so start saving now. We decided to walk it in New York, so we can see a cool city while walking 40 miles. Plus, I will have a gazillion hotel points after living in a hotel for 6 months, so we will be having a damn good time in a fancy hotel in New York City during this trip. I made Jessica promise she would train for this. Even though she appears to be thin and healthy, that girl does not exercise. I am thinking about fundraising by having side bets about how many actually days she walks between now and October. Anyone interested? We are doing fundraisers to raise money for the donation we have to make ($1800), and next Friday we are selling cupcakes from her cousin's cupcake truck. If you are local, come on out to Bullritos and buy a cupcake from us! If you are not local, just send a check and I'll eat a cupcake for you!