Our New Baby

We have become new parents again!

We would like to introduce our newest baby:

Louie L’Amour Matchette

Born: June 7, 2012.

We were not planning on adopting, but fate intervened and such as it is.

Louie is a joy and a delight and we all adore him.  He is such a sweet and good-natured baby.  After only a couple of nights at home, he was sleeping through the night, cuddled up between Joe and me.  He still cries when he needs something, but is easily pacified.  There is evidence of his arrival everywhere – new toys, new furniture, new attire.  It’s been so long since we’ve had a baby in the house, I couldn’t help myself.  The kids are just as bad - they each had to get him something.  Joe is just happy that his brood is content with the new addition.

Here is our sweet baby boy…  

Our sweet boy!

Since we weren’t planning to adopt another kitty, you are probably wondering how in the world did we end up with one since the majority of the family is actually jonesin’ for a dog?  Josie’s letters to Santa for the past two years have had repeated pleas for a Golden Retriever puppy!  I, too, am one of the “Let’s get a dog” proponents.  I have even made Joe promise that he will get Josie a dog before she turns sixteen although I’m sure Jamie wouldn’t say no if one ended up in his Christmas stocking either.

The story of how we came to adopt Louie probably started back in October of 2011 when my beloved Sneakers died.  Not a day has gone by that I don’t miss that big fuzzy boy.  Often times when I’m on the treadmill in the early hours of the morning, I will look up, expecting him to come padding into the sunroom to greet me with his sweet chirp, his tail gently waving, a trick that I think he learned as a kitten from my Golden Retriever Buddy.    

I regularly go to PetSmart to buy the girls’ (Tessa and Murphy, not Michelle and Josie) cat food.  Of course, me being me, I MUST stop in and pet the kitties when I am there.  I feel like if I can give them a few moments of socialization and sweetness, perhaps it will help them get adopted.  Translation:  I am a HUGE sucker for animals!

During my October visit, there was a cage of three kittens right by the door.  There were two females and one little boy - an orange tabby.  Their descriptions read that they were all friendly.  I, of course, put my hand up to their cage.  Zoe, a brown tabby, wanted nothing to do with me.  Stella, an all black female, at least came over and gave me a perfunctory nuzzle and mew.  Louie, on the other hand, climbed the cage.  He purred.  He mewed at me when I would walk away.  There was a beautiful older cat in another cage with a sign that read, “VERY friendly!”  I tried wheedling him down off of his perch to pet him, but this “very friendly” cat was not interested in me.  Okay.  No skin off of my nose.  I was sure that Louie, with his engaging personality, would have not difficulties getting himself adopted.

Fast forward to November.  Louie and his sisters were still there!  This time, neither girl could be bothered with me, but ah, Louie was exactly the same.  He even added reaching his paw out of his cage as far as he could to reach out to me as I walked away to his repertoire.  I couldn’t understand how such a sweet kitty hadn’t been adopted yet.  I even went home that afternoon and told Jamie and Josie about him.

Louie's paper picture

As I was flipping through the Sunday paper the weekend before Christmas, I came across the section where the paper has pictures of the animals up for adoption from the local shelters.  There was Louie!  I relayed my story to Joe about meeting Louie and what a sweetie he was.  The kids wanted to go and see him – TODAY!  Michelle has always wanted an orange tabby.  Who was I to point out that she already had a cat? 

Joe agreed to just “go and meet him” after church.  I told Joe that if Louie was gone, that was fine with me, but I hated the thought of him languishing in a cage at PetSmart for another month. 

PetSmart was crowded and loud with all of the animals up for adoption and the hustle and bustle of holiday shoppers.  Louie and his sisters were still there all right.   I asked a young woman if we could get Louie out.  She told me that we could only get him out if we were serious about adopting him.  I looked at Joe and he gave his consent.  While we waited for someone to get him out, the young woman peppered us with questions – questions about our home, what kinds of animals we’d had, our cat history, why we were so interested in Louie, etc.  Turns out, she was Louie’s foster mom and that she’d had him since the day he was born.  She admitted that she was very attached to him and was very picky about who she would allow to adopt him.

As we all took turns holding, petting and cuddling Louie, the young woman continued with her barrage of questions.  Apparently, our kitty owner pedigree was good enough.  Our only question: if we adopted him, could she keep him until we got back from Christmas vacation?  The answer was yes, and with a little paperwork and an exchange of phone numbers, we had adopted a new kitten. 

Louie loves his dad best!

We got home from our vacation on December 30^th at 4:15pm.  By 5:00pm, Louie was home.  We quarantined him in our bathroom until he used the litter box and to give Tessa and Murphy time to get used to his scent.  One by one Joe and the kids came in with Louie and me.  One by one, they were as smitten with him as I was. 

That night, we let him out of the bathroom and he cried until we put him on our bed where he promptly settled in between the two of us, purring.  Tessa slept under the bed that night, but every night since, they both sleep on our bed – Tessa in her usual spot by my feet and Louie curled up between us or stretched out at one of our sides, purring.

Louie & Jamie, chillin'

Louie is the most friendly, laid-back, and mellow kitty that we’ve had since Tasha.  While Sneakers was friendly and Tessa is super-sweet, neither one was mellow or laid-back with everyone.  Louie has all the personality traits of the cats that we have loved best, all rolled into one orange ball of purring fur.  I love walking around the house with him purring on my shoulder.  Joe and Jamie love sitting with Louie lounging on his back in their laps.  The girls love to play with him.  And, he is always purring!  I joke that he’s like the primer buttons on a lawnmower – as soon as you touch him, he’s purring.  If only a lawn mower started so easily.  Louie will seek us out by mewing and is happy to be where we are. 

  

Mic and Louie

Josie loves Louie even
though he isn't a puppy.

The furry girls are still getting used to him.  We decided that Louie was not going to be declawed.  I haven’t had a cat that wasn’t declawed since my first cat, Tigger, when I was a small child.  Joe’s cats were never declawed.  We figured that if Murphy was going to try to bully a kitten like she did Tessa, we’d better give him a fighting chance.  It actually has become a family joke.  Whenever Murphy would walk by one of us before we got Louie, we told her, “Oooh!  You have no idea how your life is going to change!”   Honestly, we were hoping that Louie would knock the snot out of her and hopefully become Tessa’s protector.   Seriously.  Murphy is a big bully, but she is Michelle’s cat and we, therefore, try to make the best of it.

Louie knows that Tessa is the boss!

Tessa and Louie took very little time to get used to one another.  He is already two pounds bigger than she is, but my Tessa doesn’t let that stop her.  During the first week Louie would occasionally growl at her in an attempt to assert his dominance to which Tessa just gave him an icy glare and he backed down.  Or, a couple of times when she’s been very near to me, I’ve heard her give a very low, very motherly “you’d better not even try it” kind of noise from deep in her throat.  Louie is not stupid.  Whatever he is doing, he immediately ceases and desists.  Tessa is boss and that’s that!  Well, except when there is peanut butter involved.  I discovered that our little boy LOVES peanut butter and will do just about anything to get it!!!  He even stole a peanut butter pretzel right out of my hand and polished off the whole thing in about a minute flat.

An example of how mellow
he is - half under the mattress

Now, Murphy, well…  Their relationship is still a work in progress.  Murphy makes a lot of noise, but she hasn’t plucked up the courage to get close to Louie yet.  I know a blowup is coming; I’m just not sure how it’s going to pan out.   

The only advantage that Murphy will have is that we think that Louie might have some hearing problems.  He doesn’t respond to sounds that usually drive cats wild – crinkly cellophane, here kitty, kitty, etc.  He relies very much on his sight and he watches our faces constantly.  He does hear some sounds, but not nearly all that one would expect a healthy kitten to hear.  The vet said that Louie had a lot of wax in his ears and gave us some drops.  If the hearing problems persist after he’s done with the ear drops, the damage will likely be permanent.  But, she said, of all the families that could have a special needs kitty, we were probably one of the best.  I am happy to report that his hearing does seem to be improving, but he still doesn’t respond as quickly or as intensely to sounds like a normal hearing kitty does.

My 'Lil Louie

Trying out the treadmill

We don’t care.  We are thrilled to have a new baby in the house.  We all laugh at his antics and think it’s very apropos that he seems to always have a streak of bike chain grease on various parts of his body.  Joe told Louie the other day as he was holding him on his back and as Louie’s purred loudly that he was “shaping up to be a pretty good cat”.  And, this morning, as Joe stood smiling and tickling Louie’s chin while Louie purred his big booming purr, I told him that he was getting to be as dopey about that kitten as I was.  He just nodded and continued.

This was in the paper the day we got Louie.

Ah, I do love having a baby in the house again. :0)

Ending Last Year and Starting the New Year Out Right :-)

                                                                Happy New Year!!!

I am very excited to start this New Year.  I'm starting the year with no treatments or surgeries scheduled.  Yee haw!  I had appointments with my favorite surgeon and my favorite oncologist right before Christmas and both said I was doing fabulously.  My blood work is status quo.  My hemoglobin and white blood cell counts were low and my liver enzymes were slightly elevated but nothing out of the ordinary.  My tumor marker was great as well.  

Dr. C says that I don’t have to wear my compression sleeve everyday anymore, just every other day.  That is, unless I start noticing more swelling than normal.  Dr. B told me that the reduced sensation in my fingertips (and arm as I discovered when I burned myself) still might get better in the next twelve months.  I have to go back to see the both at the end of February/early March and then I’m down to seeing them every four months for a couple of years.  I'm back to my same old busy life and for that, I’m thankful.  :-)

The lead-up to the New Year was even more busy than usual, so I apologize for the tardiness of this report.  In addition to getting ready for Christmas, we made the decision in the summer to go to Colorado for Christmas.  It gave us a perfect excuse to go see Lynn, Al, and the kids as well as give our kids their first taste of skiing.  Joe and I have been wanting to take them skiing for several years, but that plan had to take a backseat for a bit while we went on a little cancer adventure instead.

Joe Skier

This year was the perfect year to give it a whirl.  There was much packing and planning to be done to get a family of five cross-country for a vacation that involved not just presents, but snow gear as well.  I had been scouring websites for months looking for good deals on snow pants, boots, gloves, goggles and the like.  By the beginning of December, I had the kids’ and my gear squared away.  I wasn’t worried about Joe since Joe was "Joe Skier" back in the day.  Yeah.  That was not a good plan. 

Days before we were to leave, Joe and I had this conversation:

Me: Are you sure you don’t need anything?  Gloves?  Snow pants?  Long underwear?

            Joe: Well, maybe some snow pants?

Thankfully, I had a bit of time and was able to run to the sporting goods store in town where they, thankfully, had suitable snow pants on sale.  Nothing like waiting until the last minute, Joe.

After packing up the car almost to the gills and one of those clamshell do-hickies that you put on the top of your car, and thanks to some wonderfully accommodating teachers at Michelle’s middle school, the kids were all suddenly “ill” on the last day of school before break and we were OFF!   Actually, Josie was ill, well, carsick anyway.  The Puking Princess/Barfing Beauty gets carsick if we wake her up too early and put her in the car on an empty stomach.  Even if we feed her as we’re pulling out of the driveway, it’s a crapshoot.  This time, we lost.  Yet again, it was a perfect example of why children need two parental figures in their lives.  ;-)  In my defense, she had the same reaction not even two weeks prior and accidentally dumped the contents of the barf bucket in my car.    

Topeka, KS 

The day did get better as we drove north and then west.  Thank goodness the kids are such good travelers!  The first day we did a marathon-driving day of sixteen hours in order to avoid driving in that really bad storm that moved from the Pacific Northwest across the plains states the week before Christmas.  We made it all the way to Topeka, which the kids thought was really funny to say.  Apparently, they have some chorus warm-up that involves saying “Topeka”.  Kansas, we discovered, is a VERY LONG, FLAT and WINDY state!  

The next morning, we drove from Topeka to Colorado Springs through the aftermath of the storm.  It was still very windy and icy.  Joe refused to let me drive through the worst of it.  Not that I grew up in Wisconsin and drove back and forth to college in the occasional blizzard or even whiteout.  Part of me wanted to “prove myself” that I could still do it, but part of me was happy to just play passenger.

GPS is a grand invention, however, we need to change some of the settings or at least change where we put it so that the backseat drivers can’t see it.  Instead of the “Are we there yet?” comments of old, we got the “We’re gonna be there in six hours!”  Never mind that we had to stop for potty breaks, driver changes or food and gas.  While we didn’t get the “Are we there yet?” we did get the “When are we gonna see the mountains?”  Did I mention that Kansas is very long and flat?  Of course, when the mountains did come into view, everyone was asleep, even Joe.

Mic was the first to wake up when I announced that the
mountains were visible.  She wasn't excited.  Nope.

The "experts"

The "not-quite-ready-for-
primetime" skiers

Our time in Colorado was delightful!  The Setos were excellent hosts and we all fell back into our old routines.  We spent two days near Breckenridge skiing at Loveland.  All the kids, Al and I spent the first day in ski school (Al and I only had a half-day.).  Joe and Lynn being very seasoned skiers went and did some more challenging slopes. 

It had been almost twenty years since I’d been on skis, so I was crazy nervous!  They initially put Al and me in the same class, but after seeing my speed demon with my fly/ski by the seat of my pants tendencies of old, they prudently split us up.  By the end of the day, I was feeling much less nervous, but still said a little prayer each time I took off that I not injure myself – I had another half-marathon in mid-January that I needed to be healthy for. 

Team Matchette

Team Seto

  

Jamie had some trouble with the altitude on the first day, so he sat out for a bit and all day the next day.  Despite that, he did well, but was a bit cautious.  Joe took him down several times which really helped (and I got some wonderful pix of the two of them).  Nathan was just happy to hang out with Jamie, so he also sat out on the second day.  Joe, like Jamie, had some trouble with a virus/altitude the second day, which knocked him on his butt.  Since Joe was pretty much out of commission, Al watched the boys and was our photog during our Girls-Only ski day. 

Mic on the second day.  She wasn't
too sure about the poles.

Fast and furious down the slopes

Joe guiding Jamie down
the slope

The girls had a much better time overall.  Chloe wasn’t too sure initially, but by the end of the first day she was hooked.  Josie and Michelle LOVED it!  Michelle, like Joe, took to it very naturally.  Josie was like me – balls to the wall, skiing as fast as she could down the slopes.  By the second day though, she did gain some control.

Our Girls-Only Day was a blast!  The girls went to ski school and then we were going to meet up at lunchtime for some group skiing.  Lynn skied a few runs with me and showed me some good drills to practice.  Then, I told her to go have fun.  I was perfectly content to spend the morning practicing by myself.  I just felt so badly for Joe; he really enjoys skiing, but it’s poor form to barf on the slopes. 

Four of my favorite girls sharing a
ride.

Lynn showing off her mad ski skills

Not a spa day for these
girls - a SKI day   

It was overcast and chilly when we started.  The weather got progressively worse as the morning wore on.  It got very windy, cold and snowy, and with it, visibility deteriorated.  
Despite the cold, I loved it!  I would have skied all day, but the girls were cold and tired, and Lynn had face-planted on a black diamond run so she was a bit banged up.  So, home we went.  Gotta love the mountains.   We drove not even a half of an hour away from the ski lodge and the weather was beautiful.

This is how we ended the day - with glowing complexions
from the cold, wind and snow.

Christmas and the remainder of our stay were grand!  Christmas Eve Mass at the Air Force Academy Chapel was a treat.  The priest even quoted Dr. Seuss’s How the Grinch Stole Christmas during his homily.  We went out for our traditional Christmas Eve dinner at a Chinese restaurant.  When we went into the restaurant, it was barely snowing, but as we left, the snow was definitely coming down.

AFA Chapel in the falling snow on Christmas Eve.

Hinshaw kids' Christmas

The kids woke up to a white Christmas, something that I’ve always wanted them to experience.  While we had to kick the kids out of the house, once we did, there was much laughter, snowball fighting and a valiant attempt by Michelle and me to go sledding down the street, literally. 

3...2...1... FIRE!  The kids had an epic snowball fight!

I love the crispness in the air of snow and how the snow sounds different, depending on what type of snow it is.  I love new fallen snow, how it sparkles how it looks when the wind layers it.  The snow was much drier and powdery than the snow I remember from Wisconsin.  Is that possible? 

A friendly face at the zoo

Glorious Pike's Peak

After Christmas, we did many of the touristy things in C-Springs – Cheyenne Zoo, ice-skating, microbrewery for lunch and Garden of the Gods.  All too soon, our visit was over and we were back on the road.  We were thankful that we got to spend such a wonderful visit with the cousins!  And, as we traveled back to Georgia, sadly leaving the snow and cousins behind, we were already trying to figure out when to go out again.  Still, it was time to go home.  We had visitors of our own coming and a very special someone waiting for us....  

Marathon Mamas

A while back, my sister-in-law Julie contacted me and shared her experience of running her first half-marathon with me.  I cried reading the email; I was just so proud of her!!!  She expressed surprise at what a significant emotional event it was for her when she crossed the finish line.  For those of us that have run one or two or a dozen long-distance races, that feeling is all too familiar.  While any race can be a significant emotional event, that first “BIG” race is a doozy.

Julie's Marathon Mama Medal

Julie had been watching my cancer adventure from afar and expressed her admiration that I’d come through it so well.  She also wanted to know if I’d like to run a race with her someday.  I was so touched that she reached out to me and excited at the opportunity to run a race with her.  “Of course!” I emailed back.  I also suggested that we ask my other two sister-in-laws to join us to make it a family affair.  Julie, Jennifer, nor Becky are crazy runners like Joe and I are crazy runners. Still, I thought they just might join in the fun.

At the family Easter get-together, Julie again told the story of how awesome her first half-marathon was and invited Becky and Jennifer to join us.  After a time, Jennifer politely declined.  Becky, however, was on-board.  We decided to do the same race Julie had run the year before – the Lady Speed Stick Women’s Half-Marathon in Phoenix.  Whoo hoo!!!  Let the good times roll!

Initially, I thought it would be really fun to run all together, but Joe quickly schooled me and I had to face the facts.  Julie and Becky run much slower than I do (sorry, girls).  If I ran with either of them for the entire race, I’d risk injury to myself.  Okay.  When you say it like that, Coach Joe…

I'm ALIVE... and running!

The months passed and I continued my ridiculous race schedule.  Yes, I said ridiculous.  I can say that now, but at the time, I was so gung ho to be getting back up to speed after a year of just trudging along while I was going through treatment, I didn’t care.  Four half-marathons, one full marathon, numerous 5Ks, four sprint tris and one half-Ironman in eight months is a bit much, and yes, you can call me crazy.  But… I have Dr. Frankenstein’s voice running through my head… “She’s ALIVE!”  Ridiculous yes, but important for my psyche.

I had two big fitness goals this year: 

1.      To complete a half-Ironman in under six hours – didn’t happen (the race report is still coming)
2.      To complete a sub-two hour half-marathon.

Glad to be finished, but no PR 

I came sooo close to achieving goal #2 at the Albany Half-Marathon.  My time was 2:01 and change.  My downfall was not the rain, thunder and lightning or the tornado sirens going off.  Nope.  Au contraire.  I think those conditions actually made me run faster as I’m sure most people would have.  What slowed me waaaay down was that I had an asthma attack at about mile 9.  Grrrr!  Ah well, like the Farmers’ Insurance commercials – “Moving on…”

Since the WHM was my last chance to achieve my running goal this year, it was game on!  I came to the realization that I needed to ramp up my training and, ugh, incorporate the dreaded interval runs.  I formally and finally acknowledged that I was no longer a “novice” runner.  I was truly and officially an “intermediate” runner.  I know.  I know.  To me, “intermediate” runners are much faster than I am.  I forget that most of the people I compare myself to are weirdo athletes like myself.  Anyhoo, I backed off on my swimming and my biking a bit to focus on running.  I was ready, but the proof would be in the running on race day.

Meanwhile, in AZ, Julie and Becky were getting ready for the race as well.  Bless those two girls for running in the crazy AZ summer heat.  It is a dry heat and all, but it’s still HOT!!!  They were both doing fine until Julie ended up needing knee surgery in July.  Major bummer!   Julie felt so badly when she told me that she’d only be doing the 5K; that she wasn’t prepared for the half.  While a small part of me was disappointed, I was relieved that she was able to still run and that, despite the distance, we’d still be out on the course together.  It’s about the journey, not just about the race.  Seriously, Jules! :0)

The first Friday this month, Joe happily sent me on my way to AZ and, BONUS, got me an additional ticket to stop off in Las Vegas for a few days after the race to see one of my BFFs – Carolyn and her crazy busy family.  Swweeeeet!  I’m so lucky that I’ve got a hubby that gets racing like I do and understands the importance of “girl-time”.

Ah, the stories these lovely ladies could tell...

Before getting together with family, I HAD to see my old work buddies.  We had a couple of snafus getting together and not everyone was able to stay the entire time, but GOSH was it wonderful to see these ladies who have been in my life for so very many years.  These are the gals that were there when I was just starting my career and my adult life.  They have witnessed many of my crazy life’s ups and downs and not ratted me out.  For that, I love them dearly, and, that’s all I’m gonna say about that… ;0)

Kylie, Will and Aunt Genny 

There are certain places where I always feel at home.  Becky’s house is one of them.  Despite one furry little face that was sadly missing, it was comforting to be back at Casa de Drost.  The kids haven’t seen me in quite a while (I was bald the last time Will spent time with me), but neither skipped a beat.  Whenever I walked out of the room, one or both would immediately ask Becky or Matt, “Where’s Aunt Gen?!”  On the second day of my visit, Kylie started calling me “Aunt Genny.”  Huh!!!??  Where they pulled that one out of, I have no idea!  Oh well.  If it sticks, it sticks.  Niece and nephew prerogative, I guess.

Saturday morning, Becky had to work so I kept myself busy until it was time to pick her up and hit the expo and lunch with Julie and Jennifer.  While I am not uber-religious, in times of great stress, I find comfort in going to church and taking a few minutes to quietly reflect on life, to center, to meditate, to pray.  I prefer to go between Masses, when the church is quiet, so quiet that I can hear the outside world passing me by.  Sitting in the sanctuary was, even for a few minutes, what I needed.  It was warm outside and the doors were all thrown open so that you could hear the fountains bubbling and gurgling outside in the courtyard.  Peaceful.

Candles at church - the way I remember them

I really don’t remember when I myself started lighting candles, but it’s something that we Catholics do for those that are sick, in need or who have died.  My friend Yaz’s husband, Alex, died from leukemia a few weeks ago and our friend Melody passed away from ovarian cancer a couple of months ago.  Their deaths still saddened me and I felt compelled to light a couple of candles in their honor.  I looked around for the candles and couldn’t find them in the sanctuary.  “Ah,” I thought, “They’re in the chapel.”  Sure enough, there they were, but when I tried to find the wooden skewers that one typically uses to light the candles, I was baffled.  There were none, only little buttons in front of each “candle”. 

I’m sorry; I understand the need for safety and reducing the risk of a fire hazard, but pushing that little button instead of watching the wick ignite and then snuffing the skewer out in the sand, just didn’t do it for me.  Ask anyone that knows me – I’m a stickler for TRADITION!  My dad used to sing the song “Tradition!” from Fiddler on the Roof to me.  I miss the smell of the candles burning.  I miss the movement of the flames, the way the light danced on the colored glass votives that they were carefully placed in.  I could go on and on. 

As I pulled out of the church parking lot, I realized that my visit did what I had hoped it would – it centered me, calmed me, revitalized me, and eased some of the ache in my heart.  Exercise does the same thing.  To me, the great outdoors is God’s original church.  Since I was in taper-mode and couldn’t go out for a long run, I had my chat with God and myself in the manmade representation of God’s church. 

Tiff, Jen, Jules, me and Becky after lunch and race expo

The expo and late lunch afterwards were quite the raucous affairs.  In addition to Becky, Julie and Jennifer, we were joined by Jennifer’s lovely niece Tiffany.  Bobby, the SPI Belt vendor at the expo, will forever remember me as the “330 Gal” because of our no-holds barred discussion of my breast reconstruction implants in front of his stall.  I’ve met him before and he’s a pretty cool guy, but I think he got more than he bargained for when he listened in. :0)

The next morning dawned clear and cool.  Temps were predicted to be in the 80s by the afternoon, so Becky and I donned our Athleta tank tops and shorts (well a running skirt for her, but same difference) and jumped in the car.  Matt and the kiddos would come down later to hopefully get some snaps of us as we crossed the finish line.  Julie was meeting us at the finish line after her race.

Giddy with pre-race excitement

We got a primo parking spot at the race start and then… <cue angelic trumpeting>, we got to be the first ones to use the port-a-potties.  This is a HUGE deal!  I literally got to rip the wrapper off of the tp.  I was giddy with excitement!  For those of you that don’t race or are not athletic supporters, port-a-potties get a bit “ripe” rather quickly before races.  Race nerves and all, if you catch my drift…

Before we knew it, it was time to get in our respective corrals.  Since I put my estimated time at less than two hours, I was in the first corral (yes, it really is like a corral that they put animals in to keep them contained).  Becky was four corrals back.  I hugged her hard, said something encouraging and then she was gone in a sea of other runners.  The National Anthem played, I teared up like I always do, I said a little prayer for us and then, we were off! 

I ran this race for Melody and Alex

Before his Ironman races, Joe always has me write inspiring messages on his arms to help him when the going gets tough.  That morning I put two names on my arms – Melody and Alex.  I was running this race for them – because they can’t anymore.  I ran the first two miles for them.  Every subsequent mile, I ran for someone.  It’s something that I started doing a while back.  It makes the race more meaningful for me and it helps me stay on-task and motivated.  That morning, I ran for the people that helped me through my cancer adventure.  I ran for those that are still going through their own adventures.  I ran for the ones I love - my friends and family.  It helped the miles go by, one by one.  Usually, the last four miles I run for the kids and Joe.  This race though, I ran the very last mile was for Yaz, Lexi, Maddy Rose, Bella and JT five people whose lives will never be the same.  It was my tribute to them and their beloveds.  

Almost done!

I am terrible at pacing, but I have a function on my Garmin that allows it to “remind me” if I’m going too slow to meet my goal pace.  Thank goodness.  I managed to keep myself on pace to the point of when I hit the last four miles; I knew I could make it in under two hours.  Since I only wanted to go sub-two hours, I eased up a bit.  On the last out and back, as I was heading into the last half-mile, I looked in earnest for Becky heading out on the last four miles.  Suddenly, there she was - cruising along with a smile on her face!  I ran across the boulevard and joyfully hugged her and gave her some encouragement.  I KNEW that she would finish at that point!!! 

I crossed back to my side of the course and picked up the pace.  I could hear the noise of the finish line.  I focused and ran a little harder.  I never saw Matt or the kids.  I never saw my brother-in-law Michael or my nephew Nathan as they cheered me in.   As Matt said, I had the 100-yard stare as I came into the finish.  But, I did it!  Official time: 1:59:29.   While I was pleased with my accomplishment, I was more focused on getting back out onto the course to cheer Becky on.

Thanks, Matt for such an awesome finish line pic!  Wish
I could have run like this for the entire race!!

Julie and I - all smiles

Well-deserved medal for a job
well-done!

Julie and I hugged and laughed and talked and hugged and laughed some more at the finish line!  I was so stoked that we were there together!  After a few leg cramps and some water, we headed back out onto the course to find Becky and run/walk her in.  She finished in just over three hours and I couldn’t be prouder of her!!!!!  I just wish Joe could have been there to see her cross the finish line!  To go from not-really-a-runner to marathon mama in just over six months is so incredible!  Will she run another half marathon?  I don’t know, but NO ONE can ever take that accomplishment away from her!

Thank you, thank you, thank you to my sister-in-law Julie for suggesting this!!!!!  What a wonderful experience to have shared with both of you! :0)

Marathon Mamas!!!

Two Years and Counting...

Happy Cancerversary to ME!

Two years ago today, I spent the majority of my day sacked out on the couch or in my bed, slowly trying to climb out of the post-surgical fog that I was in, but mostly letting the world do its own thing.  I had just gotten home from the hospital the day before after having my bilateral mastectomies and removal of my lymph nodes on the 27^th of October. 

Trying to nap between x-rays and surgery.  

Oddly, I remember most of what happened on that day, well, the parts where I was conscious anyway.  I remember those darn shots of radioactive dye into the left side of my chest – four in number.  The third hurt the worst, even with Valium on board!  I remember waiting and waiting to get x-rays and then finally being taken back to surgery.  Joe, Mom and Dad were there.  Friends also stopped by and called.  I remember chatting with the anesthesiologist about my bleeding issues and then moving myself from the gurney to the O.R. table.  I remember waking up in recovery, being in pain and alarms going off because I was breathing too shallowly and because my heart rate was too low.  Everything seemed so loud and so bright. 

Late in the afternoon, I remember being wheeled into my room and “Friends” being on the television.  I remember looking over at an anxious Joe and saying, in my best Joey voice, “How you doin’?”  The nurse cracked up!  Joe only cracked a smile. 

The kids checking out my drain lines and all my other gear.
Josie's face speaks volumes of what they all were thinking.

Mom and Dad brought the kids to see me in the hospital that night.  Their smiles didn’t reach their eyes as they walked into the room.  They were not used to seeing their mom hooked up to all kinds of machines and lying in bed.  I was in pain, pale, and probably a little bit loopy.  They did think seeing my pretty turquoise blue pee was cool (a side effect of the radioactive dye).  The night was long and uncomfortable.  My nurse’s name was John. 

Everyone (two & four-legged) was happy to have me home.

The day I came home from the hospital was really a blur.  I remember Dr. C coming to see me and the nurse taking off my bandages so I could see my scars.  The scars didn’t freak me out, but the drains sure did.  They were stitched to my skin – ewww.  I remember getting discharged from the hospital and getting creamsicle slush from Sonic on the way home. 

The house was quiet when we got there.  I vividly remember the look of relief on Joe’s face once he got me situated on the couch, him taking me into his arms and weeping with relief.  I didn’t realize until that moment just how scared he’d been of me going under the knife, worrying if the doctors would be able to keep me from bleeding too much. 

I don’t remember what happened after that, other than the kids coming home from school.  I guess the pain meds kicked in and my adrenalin pooped out.  According to Michelle and Joe, I guess I spent most of that day asleep in bed. 

I thought it would be hilarious to
go as a cow for Halloween.  My costume had udders but I didn't anymore.

I spent the next few days sleeping, recovering and getting back into the daily routine as much as I could.  I had to finish Joe’s costume, we had to carve pumpkins, go to soccer games and go trick-or-treating.   I started walking around the neighborhood two days after surgery.  Joe busted me five days post-op swiftly walking on the treadmill, my drains pinned to my shirt.  It’s hard to keep this chick down!

Surfing in O'ahu w/Becky and Matt
on Becky's b-day.

Last year, we celebrated my one-year “cancerversary” early with our trip to Hawaii, watching Joe compete in the Ironman World Championships with about twenty family and friends.  It was quite a memorable way to celebrate quite a tumultuous year!

My beloved boy

On the actual day of my first cancerversary, I had an appointment with Dr. C.  We talked about how much had transpired in a year, how much I’d overcome.  Mainly that day, I remember grieving the loss of my beloved Sneakers who died the day before.  I sincerely believe he hung in there to see me to that day, and for that, I’m so incredibly thankful for his giving, sweet soul.  Not a day goes by that I don't think about and miss my furry boy. :0(

This year, I came home from running errands on Friday to find a pretty bouquet of flowers sitting on the counter.  I assumed they were a bit of an apology from Joe since he and I had been having a bit of a tiff a few days earlier.  I did that is, until I read the card.  Somehow, my cancerversary had completely slipped my mind, but not Joe’s.  He obviously still doesn’t take my good health for granted.

Lynn & I ran the Half-Marathon
to Finish Breast Cancer on a
COLD February day in Jacksonville, FL.

The local Susan G. Komen Race for the Cure was this Saturday, my actual cancerversary.  I had been planning to run the race, but hadn’t planned on my calves and my right foot being in almost constant pain for the two weeks prior.  We were going to be camping with Jamie’s Boy Scout Den for the entire weekend, but the campsite was really close to the race site.  No problem.  I figured I would run/drive over to the race and then run/drive back to the campsite.  Darn injuries!  I am running a half-marathon with two of Joe’s sisters this coming weekend so I wasn’t going to do further damage just to run a 5K, regardless of what cause it was for.  The race next weekend is to benefit breast cancer and the one of the half-marathons I ran this past winter was also to benefit breast cancer so I think I’m good. :0)

Anyway, Joe surprised me yet again and had a bag of truffles and a heartfelt card in the morning.  Part of me felt very guilty for not running the race, but I spent the day with my family – the people I love the most and who had the most to lose if I hadn’t made it to this day.  We didn’t have a fancy dinner or do anything super-spectacular; that’s hard to do when you’re camping.  We were together and that was the best and most important part of this or any cancerversary. 

These are the people that I love the most!
I am blessed to spend another year with them, healthy and disease-free.

I am grateful that we’ve made it another year.  We could not have done it alone!  As always, I am thankful for all my friends who helped us get here.  Yes, this means YOU!  :0)  I try not to take my health and those I love for granted.  I’m still working on becoming more patient, but methinks that will be a never-ending project.  Anywho, here’s to another year of health, love, laughter, and NED (No Evidence of Disease)!

Just Plane Musings

I’ve been up waaaay too long, but I had a plane to catch this morning.  I’m the lucky duck with a kitchen pass that is flying to Colorado Springs, CO this morning.  As it always happens when I’m working on limited sleep and too much coffee, my brain is on over-drive.

As we were getting ready to taxi out to the runway, I assumed my usual pre-flight occupation – people watching.  Airports and planes are great people-watching venues.  The expression of, “It takes all kinds…” really does apply!

“Her eyes were dark like huckleberries.”  Huckleberries?  Seriously?!  That was the first sentence in the synopsis on the back of the book that the women across me was reading.  “Bodice rippers” is what my mom calls them.  Love that term.  It tells you all you need to know about the book, among other things…

The woman two rows ahead and across the aisle I had observed in the boarding area.  She initially caught my attention because she had a travel blanket that she kept wrapping and rewrapping around her feet.  She continued this behavior once we got on the plane and then proceeded to add a large camouflage blanket for her shoulders.  Her purse must be like a clown car.  

The guy I’m sitting next to was another one that I noted in the boarding area.  He had “PERSONAL TRAINER” emblazoned across the back of his jacket.  Gee, I wonder what he does for a living?  He surreptitiously also observed me while we were waiting to board.  I found this odd until I realized how I was dressed.  No, I wasn’t wearing anything outlandish or that would get me kicked off of my Southwest flight.  Nope, just jeans, tennies and a tech shirt.  But… it was the tech shirt and tennies that I was wearing that probably caught his eye.  I had on my Merrill “minimalist” running shoes and my National Breast Cancer Half-Marathon tech shirt that has “SURVIVOR” written down the sleeve. 

I like to wear comfy clothes when I travel (and most days to be perfectly honest), jeans, tennies and preferably a tech shirt in case I have to do an OJ Simpson-like sprint to catch my flight.  Since today was a travel day to a chilly locale, long sleeves and running shoes it was, but I really did seriously consider wearing my beloved cowboy boots.  Anyway, I had forgotten that my choice in attire screams athlete and cancer survivor in one fell swoop.  Oddly, I sometimes, for very short intervals of time, forget that I’m a cancer survivor.  My constant aches and pains never let me forget that I’m an athlete.

I was trying to think about the last time I flew anywhere.  It’s been awhile, unlike Joe who flies every month.  I had forgotten just how much I actually like to fly.  I love watching the ground drift away from the plane – the steep angle of the plane – the view from the windows – the view of the sky as we travel into the clouds.  And, the people watching.  Some people, like Joe, close their eyes and immediately tune out; some stuff their faces in a book.  Others, like me, watch and occasionally will engage other passengers in small talk.  Then, there’s always a mom soothing a fussy little one.  I remember doing my fair share of that, but honestly I don’t miss it.  I’m thankful that the kids can carry their own bags, snacks, and bodies to and from the plane. J

While I love the anticipation of travel and the actual flight, I really dislike the getting to the airport hassle.  There are two types of people in regards to getting to the airport – those that are relaxed and those that are not.  The relaxed people are those that don’t stress about when they get there, they don’t stress about parking the car, checking the bags, security, nada.  Joe and my mom are in that camp.  Then there are those of us that wake up hours before we need to leave, if we even sleep at all.  We MUST get to the airport ninety minutes or more before our flight leaves.  We pack and repack our bags days before our flight.  We check, double-check and triple-check that everything is in place and continue to do so until we are at a “comfortable cruising altitude.”  My dad and I drive Joe and my mom crazy with our plane travel neuroses, but the feeling is mutual!   

This flight is the first one I’ve made by myself in -- I don’t know how long.  I’m so used to having the kids with me.  There’s no one to tell to stop fighting or hand out snacks to.  I’m not quite sure what to do with myself.  I feel somewhat discombobulated.   

Oh wait –I just remembered the last time I flew solo – when I flew home for my cousin Michelle’s graduation from college over a year ago.  Then, I was flat-chested, forgetful, puffy and bald from chemo.  I’m no longer flat-chested, puffy or bald, but I guess I’m still a bit forgetful. J

The last time I flew with Joe and the kids was when we went to Hawaii last year for Joe’s Ironman.  That time, we flew with the Setos and had the kids sitting in a separate section all together.  One would think that the plan would have been fraught with peril, but all of our kids are great travelers.  Besides, there were plenty of other kids on the both flights over who were traveling with their triathlete parents.  

Triathlon is a very family-friendly sport; I pitied the people who were on our flight that were going for something as mundane as to sit on the beach and get a tan.  WE had a mission – to celebrate Joe’s accomplishment with friends and family and were ready to PARTY – family-style, of course.

Incidentally, if you want to do some people watching, take a flight with a bunch of triathletes – talk about “interesting” wardrobe choices…

My flight today is a precursor for future celebration.  I’m flying out to Colorado Springs to look at land.  Why Colorado Springs?  After years of thinking that we would move back to Phoenix when Joe retired from the Air Force, we came to the realization that we both wanted to move somewhere green with mountains and a more laid-back vibe than Phoenix has become.  We both love Colorado and both of us have made many happy memories there, so Colorado became our goal.  We are planning to move there when Joe retires or gets a job there, whichever comes first. 

A couple of weeks ago, Joe was in C-Springs for the retirement of his boss from his Aviano days, which was held at the Air Force Academy.  He was there for a week, hanging out with Lynn, Al and the kids, reconnecting with old Air Force buddies, and looking at land.  Lynn and Al have just purchased a large plot of land in a quiet subdivision next to a regional park, close to the Academy and with gorgeous views of Pike’s Peak.  Sounds good to me!  Where do I sign up? 

Joe prudently decided that before he put in an offer on a plot of land that he thought would be perfect for us, wanted me to fly out to see it for myself.  Plus, it was a good excuse to see Lynn, Al, and the kiddos.

So, I’m sitting on a plane watching people read their bodice-rippers, play on their iPads, bundle up their feet, getting grief from the sassy Southwest flight attendant, and giving it right back at her. J  I am slowly relaxing, making mental notes to myself about my weekend wardrobe choices that are limited since I only brought a carry-on.  I was thinking about changing out the jeans I’m wearing today when I arrive and then just re-wearing them on Monday when I fly home.  OMG!  I just realized that I have “plane pants” like Sheldon from The Big Bang Theory’s “bus pants”.  I really am a neurotic traveler.  Perhaps moving to Colorado will cure me of that... I doubt it though.