Bike the Drive happens every Memorial Day weekend in Chicago. The city closes down the entire length of Lake Shore Drive.... roughly 20+ miles along the lake... and turns it over to cyclists from 6 a.m. to 10 a.m. and it is a riot. There are kids with parents, tandems, reclining bikes and people who have their bikes decorated.
As I sat and watched it from my window in our apartment I thought what a difference a year makes. Last year, we biked 10 miles with our son and some friends of his and then hosted a breakfast open house for 25. It was a great way to spend the day. I love cooking for company.
I wish I was riding today as it is a beautiful day; sunny with no clouds in the sky and the park is filled with green tree tops. The water looks like there are diamonds shimmering on the surface. The temperature is in the 70's. I do not have a doctors OK yet after my surgery to get back on the bike (not that I am well enough anyway, I have been up on and off since 3 a.m. in pain and feel like I will not be better for another couple weeks ) Ken ran out for a quick ride up north to Hollywood and back and our friends Ruth and Jonathon have gone south downtown on Bike the Drive to the museum campus. The four of us will be here for breakfast, which I am cooking.
It has been a hectic week, Monday evening while I was just home recovering from surgery, Ken got ill from a kidney stone and Jonathon took him to the Emergency Room while I sat home and waited. He finally returned at 4 a.m., on painkillers with lots of interesting stories about cops in the ER, and motorcycle accidents.
I am surprised by how much pain I have been in. I thought this surgery would be simple and that recovery would be easy. I have some nerve damage on one side and am having lots of pain. I started to have allergic reactions to the pain killers again so I wobble between pain or pain killers combined with Benadryl which puts me straight to sleep. Then yesterday I got a cold. Today Ken woke up with one. Talk about too much drama.
So we are having a quiet holiday weekend, hopefully one with lots of rest and without any trips to the hospital. I did run out to the store for a roast. Even though it is warm, a good pot roast with potatoes and onions will make the apartment smell good and will provide comfort food as we look forward to feeling better.
Sunday, May 30, 2010
Monday, May 24, 2010
Back under the Knife
Today, I underwent surgery to work on reconstruction of my breasts. Here is the latest on my construction project!
At the initial massive excavation on December 14th , they inserted some place holders that expanded to make room for my new TA TAs. Now that I am expanded and healthier, they have to swap those expanders out for the real silicone TA TAs. Thank goodness as the equipment felt like two hockey pucks (sorry had to throw a little Blackhawks humor in--at least they didn't knock my teeth out!).
Surgery happened this morning at 7:30 a.m. (see they even have construction hours). And while they were in there they fixed a dog leg (I swear that is what they call it). Moved one Ta Ta up a floor (the ground was soft, it had slipped down). And then they took some dirt (ok, fat from my tummy) and used it to fill in the landscape where there were some holes where they had scraped down to the bone. The procedure was successful, they say. Who can tell with the swelling and bandages!
I was home by early afternoon. In a lot of pain so we upped the dosage of pain killers a bit and now I feel good. The doctor said no biking for a week but I think he was kidding. No lifting and no jogging for 60 days. The jogging he does not have to worry about!
A week sounds a little aggressive, even for me. So I will take it day by day and start with gently yoga stretches in a week. That worked well last time. This is perhaps the last procedure I need so I am excited and looking forward.
At the initial massive excavation on December 14th , they inserted some place holders that expanded to make room for my new TA TAs. Now that I am expanded and healthier, they have to swap those expanders out for the real silicone TA TAs. Thank goodness as the equipment felt like two hockey pucks (sorry had to throw a little Blackhawks humor in--at least they didn't knock my teeth out!).
Surgery happened this morning at 7:30 a.m. (see they even have construction hours). And while they were in there they fixed a dog leg (I swear that is what they call it). Moved one Ta Ta up a floor (the ground was soft, it had slipped down). And then they took some dirt (ok, fat from my tummy) and used it to fill in the landscape where there were some holes where they had scraped down to the bone. The procedure was successful, they say. Who can tell with the swelling and bandages!
I was home by early afternoon. In a lot of pain so we upped the dosage of pain killers a bit and now I feel good. The doctor said no biking for a week but I think he was kidding. No lifting and no jogging for 60 days. The jogging he does not have to worry about!
A week sounds a little aggressive, even for me. So I will take it day by day and start with gently yoga stretches in a week. That worked well last time. This is perhaps the last procedure I need so I am excited and looking forward.
Monday, May 17, 2010
Good News
Last week I had a follow up appointment with my surgical oncologist. After the exam, I asked him if he thought I was cancer free. He answered cautiously, "I think you are cancer free for now."
I have been replaying it and celebrating in my brain all week. Please celebrate with me.
I have been replaying it and celebrating in my brain all week. Please celebrate with me.
Sunday, May 9, 2010
Kedging
I am re-reading a book, called Younger Next Year for Women by Chris Crowley and Henry S. Lodge, M.D., to kick start me mentally back into a healthy lifestyle as I recover from cancer. There is an important term in it, that really struck a chord for me. Kedging. It is a nautical term that means to move (a ship) by means of a line attached to a small anchor dropped at the distance and in the direction desired. (Merriam-Webster) So what does that mean for sailing? On a windless day, if you really need to go a particular direction on a sail boat, you take a little kedge anchor and put it on a dinghy and you row out the direction you want the boat to go. You go as far as you can and then you drop and secure the kedge anchor. Then the people in the boat PULL the boat to the kedge anchor. It is done by brute force.
These authors first wrote a book called Younger Next Year that was all about men growing older (or how not to).** I felt like I was missing something after Ken chuckled his way through it, so I read it too. Then a few years ago, they wrote one for women and I read that one. The book tells us pretty much what we should know being healthy as we age but in a way that boils it down to some basic rules and easy takeaways. And it has some great stories. It gave Ken and I a vocabulary to use with each other to talk about healthy aging. It has been at the heart of our trying to get healthier over the last few years.
Younger Next Year encourages you to kedge. I have made up variations of the word. I am a "kedger". I live my life to Kedge. So, what does it mean to kedge in life? It is setting a goal and then pulling yourself to it, come what may. Ken and I have been kedging trips since we first read the book. Last winter ('08-'09), Ken and I made plans for an early '09 summer bike trip in N. Carolina. The highlight was riding a couple of hundred miles in 5 days. In case you didn't know, N. Carolina has lots of hills! It forced us to put in a lot of miles in Chicago and the hills of Wisconsin last spring. I remember one particularly morning in May on the Chicago lakefront, I swear there were only 6 people that morning running and biking in the freezing drizzle. We were kedging. We were biking 22 miles as the sun rose, able to see our breath, before work, so we would be ready for our trip.
I am a kedger, (perhaps to the chagrin of the people who work with me). I set goals and then I figure out how to get there. My personal short term kedge is to ride the Apple Cider Century in late September in Michigan. 100 miles in one day. The brochure is stuck with a magnet to my white board. Hold me to it. You can join us, they offer long and short rides and lots of families come.
This morning, it was sunny and a very brisk 45 degrees in Chicago, staying in bed seemed like a luscious option. Instead, we went and rode 12 miles alongside the glistening lakefront. Yoga this afternoon. I am working on my kedge. The kedge gets me out of bed. My long term kedge is to ride bikes with Ken across the country. The Apple Cider gets me one step closer to that.
Kedge with me. I am looking forward.
**Thanks to Nick for suggesting Younger Next Year all those years ago, I I have given it to people and they have given it to people and so on. It is a life changing book and you started the positive wave.
These authors first wrote a book called Younger Next Year that was all about men growing older (or how not to).** I felt like I was missing something after Ken chuckled his way through it, so I read it too. Then a few years ago, they wrote one for women and I read that one. The book tells us pretty much what we should know being healthy as we age but in a way that boils it down to some basic rules and easy takeaways. And it has some great stories. It gave Ken and I a vocabulary to use with each other to talk about healthy aging. It has been at the heart of our trying to get healthier over the last few years.
Younger Next Year encourages you to kedge. I have made up variations of the word. I am a "kedger". I live my life to Kedge. So, what does it mean to kedge in life? It is setting a goal and then pulling yourself to it, come what may. Ken and I have been kedging trips since we first read the book. Last winter ('08-'09), Ken and I made plans for an early '09 summer bike trip in N. Carolina. The highlight was riding a couple of hundred miles in 5 days. In case you didn't know, N. Carolina has lots of hills! It forced us to put in a lot of miles in Chicago and the hills of Wisconsin last spring. I remember one particularly morning in May on the Chicago lakefront, I swear there were only 6 people that morning running and biking in the freezing drizzle. We were kedging. We were biking 22 miles as the sun rose, able to see our breath, before work, so we would be ready for our trip.
I am a kedger, (perhaps to the chagrin of the people who work with me). I set goals and then I figure out how to get there. My personal short term kedge is to ride the Apple Cider Century in late September in Michigan. 100 miles in one day. The brochure is stuck with a magnet to my white board. Hold me to it. You can join us, they offer long and short rides and lots of families come.
This morning, it was sunny and a very brisk 45 degrees in Chicago, staying in bed seemed like a luscious option. Instead, we went and rode 12 miles alongside the glistening lakefront. Yoga this afternoon. I am working on my kedge. The kedge gets me out of bed. My long term kedge is to ride bikes with Ken across the country. The Apple Cider gets me one step closer to that.
Kedge with me. I am looking forward.
**Thanks to Nick for suggesting Younger Next Year all those years ago, I I have given it to people and they have given it to people and so on. It is a life changing book and you started the positive wave.
Thursday, May 6, 2010
Pain and Memory
"We do not remember days, we remember moments."
I have decided only 7 weeks after chemo that I can't remember the pain of the chemo or of surgery. That is a very good thing. I have an example that only women will feel, sorry but it is the only thing I can come up with. I remember the surgery and chemo the same way that I remember going through labor. . Women who have had children will get this I think. Or perhaps others who have gone through an accident, surgery or perhaps even a heart attack will get it. My memory says labor was awful. And the pain was real and at moments agonizing. I remember that much. But I don't really remember the physical pain of labor, all these years later. It doesn't touch me. The memory thankfully has slipped away. I can remember moments but I don't remember the pain of that moment. With labor, it slipped away within a day or two. Perhaps because of sleep deprivation! Or perhaps with the joy of a newborn.
The pain of chemo and the surgery is like that. I can look back and say, "the bone pain was the worst." But I don't remember what that felt like. Even though I was only done 7 weeks ago, the physical memory of the pain has slipped away. That ought to be reassuring to any one who has to go through something like this. Our brains are wonderful things and somehow they protect us from the physical memory of the pain while we are awake.
This came to over the last few days because of the nightmare. Only in my dreaming memory did the physical feeling of the pain resurface. I wonder if it is like this for others. And last night I slept fine. I'm looking forward ...
I have decided only 7 weeks after chemo that I can't remember the pain of the chemo or of surgery. That is a very good thing. I have an example that only women will feel, sorry but it is the only thing I can come up with. I remember the surgery and chemo the same way that I remember going through labor. . Women who have had children will get this I think. Or perhaps others who have gone through an accident, surgery or perhaps even a heart attack will get it. My memory says labor was awful. And the pain was real and at moments agonizing. I remember that much. But I don't really remember the physical pain of labor, all these years later. It doesn't touch me. The memory thankfully has slipped away. I can remember moments but I don't remember the pain of that moment. With labor, it slipped away within a day or two. Perhaps because of sleep deprivation! Or perhaps with the joy of a newborn.
The pain of chemo and the surgery is like that. I can look back and say, "the bone pain was the worst." But I don't remember what that felt like. Even though I was only done 7 weeks ago, the physical memory of the pain has slipped away. That ought to be reassuring to any one who has to go through something like this. Our brains are wonderful things and somehow they protect us from the physical memory of the pain while we are awake.
This came to over the last few days because of the nightmare. Only in my dreaming memory did the physical feeling of the pain resurface. I wonder if it is like this for others. And last night I slept fine. I'm looking forward ...
Wednesday, May 5, 2010
Nightmare
My life is divided right now. I have been in the office the last few weeks 6 hours a day and am just getting back into the rhythm of "working". It's not that I haven't been there for the last three weeks, it is just that I am finally getting my concentration and focus back. Who knew you could lose that? It's my role to drive the business forward and I finally feel like I am doing that again. When I am home, we are getting back into our more normal routine of family dinners, and family things (like laundry!).
Weekends I have been devoting to getting into better shape. During the week, I just don't have the energy to do both. This last weekend, we biked both mornings. The first day I biked so slowly, I am surprised I didn't fall over. And when I got home I had to lay on the floor and recover before showering. Follow that up with a long Saturday afternoon walk. Why was I so purposeful? The real answer was I wanted to try a huge FiveGuys cheeseburger and fries and couldn't in my mind justify the calories and splurging without a huge workout day to support it. (The burger was great!)
Sunday morning, we were back on the bike and I felt better. The answer is that it is always tough to get into shape, the cancer just makes it harder. You have to want it. And I do. My plan is to continue to alternate between during the week and weekends. But everything is a little off plan today.
Last night I had my first nightmare about having breast cancer and surgery. I woke up crying this morning. I am an optimist. I have not had even one moment where I have doubted that this will be fine. That I will make it. That I will be cured of cancer. But reliving the surgery in my dreams was terrifying. It made today a little longer. It made me a little more tired. I struggled to get to work this morning.
I am looking forward and I will plan on more restful sleep for tonight.
Weekends I have been devoting to getting into better shape. During the week, I just don't have the energy to do both. This last weekend, we biked both mornings. The first day I biked so slowly, I am surprised I didn't fall over. And when I got home I had to lay on the floor and recover before showering. Follow that up with a long Saturday afternoon walk. Why was I so purposeful? The real answer was I wanted to try a huge FiveGuys cheeseburger and fries and couldn't in my mind justify the calories and splurging without a huge workout day to support it. (The burger was great!)
Sunday morning, we were back on the bike and I felt better. The answer is that it is always tough to get into shape, the cancer just makes it harder. You have to want it. And I do. My plan is to continue to alternate between during the week and weekends. But everything is a little off plan today.
Last night I had my first nightmare about having breast cancer and surgery. I woke up crying this morning. I am an optimist. I have not had even one moment where I have doubted that this will be fine. That I will make it. That I will be cured of cancer. But reliving the surgery in my dreams was terrifying. It made today a little longer. It made me a little more tired. I struggled to get to work this morning.
I am looking forward and I will plan on more restful sleep for tonight.
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