Feelin' It

I should change my blog title to Joys of Medical Wanderings. Not finding much joy in my boys these days. Husband is insisting things will get better, trying to do things I like, Asking me how I am. Helping with everything. Loving me more than I can love myself.

And I felt it. Believed it, breathed deep with no cough and little pain and embraced it. Had so much fun on an overnight birthday celebration that I saw joy. I was relieved. I was ok.

Then...

Then. I put joy down to settle onto yet another exam table and I watched, shocked, as it ran away, down the hallway of the doctor's office without even looking back. No see ya later because with this specialists words I let it go. I didn't believe in it anymore, I would have tackled it and kicked its ass but joy sure can run fast when it is running away.

Can you feel that? Is now over a month old, is now a I can always feel it and it hurts.

ENT says rare complication, may be from biopsy. Hematoma? Inflamation?? Carotid artery is inflamed. Sooo high blood pressure and high pulse rate makes it dance the samba to an increasingly painful beat.

Trying not to think about it. Trying not to make anymore decisions. Thought it was the growth. Thought I could schedule surgery and get it taken care of. Apparently more complicated than that.

So I schedule another test. Wait for more results for another complication that was unexpected. Added to a list of things I'd wished away when I blew out the many candles on my birthday cake a few weeks ago.

I know complicated.

Worry's Art

Worry etch-a-sketched its way across my face
Zig-zag connected its strength as fear between my eyes
Shook up time, smiles erased
Bold its lines, a harsh splash
from lash to temple
Aged, replaced who I thought I was
Taking direction from a biopsy’s preamble
Worry and waiting, giddy, held hands

A google searches hits
Terror in the text
Symptoms that all fit
While I held the phone
Held my breath
As the artist worry sketched,
Whispered death

The doctor apologized for the wait
Busy days
The news is great
The mass is benign
Worry’s voice faded
But her artwork remained

Inventions

My sons have come up with some good ones over the past thirteen years.

My eight year old recently added an interesting invention to his collection of not so good ideas. I noticed in the shower that the shampoo seemed very watery. I mentioned it at dinner, proud of myself for remembering something for so many hours!, and he said "Oh, yeah I did that."
"Hmmm?"
"I added water to it to make more so we don't run out."
"Oh."

When my older son was four and a half and his little brother was a newborn he did not get as much attention as he needed and of course not as much supervision. His not so good idea, AKA invention, was meant to get him down the stairs faster. We have carpeted stairs and I noticed it looked really dirty right down the center. When I touched it, it was tacky and sticky.
My son saw me looking at it and asked if I knew how it worked.
"Uh, no"
"Do like this Mama. I made it go faster." And he slid down the stairs on his bottom.
"But how did you make it go faster?" I asked, wondering of course where I was while he was doing this. Oh yeah nursing an otherwise screaming new baby.
"I know it goes so, so fast. Now I get downstairs in no time, Mama." He was so proud. There are six whole stairs.
"What did you use?"
He scampered into the bathroom, his pants now sticky too.
He came out, smiling, holding up an empty jar of Vaseline.
Now we all get down the stairs faster!

Genius.