Dear Cancer, I hate your life......

Today is my FIL's birthday.

Dominic and I called him this morning to wish him a happy birfday.  Since the flood gates of my son's mouth have opened ALOT since my last post about him, it's actually FUN talking to him on the phone.  In Dominic's way he said happy birthday to his papa this morning!  I have a phone earpiece that looks like headphones so I put one ear bud in my ear and the other in Dominic's and the laughter I heard from my FIL brought me to tears this morning. 

Yesterday was his 2nd chemo session.  A few days before that he'd been having "good" days, meaning he didn't need to take any pain meds.  Of course he's feeling great 2 days before his chemo session, just to do it all over again.  Of course.

We're all frustrated that this time around chemo isn't really relieving his pain, he's constantely popping pain pills, yet still drives all the way out here with my MIL to watch Dominic 2-3 times a week!  I feel awful that my MIL has to do everything and watch Dominic too because my FIL is too weak or too tired or in too much pain to play with his grandson.  Still, he tries though, he'll take Dominic outside when he can but I know it's hard and it breaks my fucking heart....

Two posts ago I told myself that I wouldn't let cancer bring me down anymore, I told myself that I will take full advantage of the fact that my FIL is still here and fighting, I told myself that I wouldn't let cancer win by my negativity.  Today, I lose....

I was overwhelmed with it this week, so much that I stress ate like a heffer, actually I have been all week.  Last night when I talked to my FIL about his session he told me that he had vented his frustrations to the oncology nurse, Patty (LOVE HER).  She told FIL that they are following the treatment plan that worked last time.  FIL stated that this time feels different in that there is more pain and alot less energy.  Patty says it will take time and after a few more sessions and a CT scan, if it's not working, they'll go another route with a different type of chemo.  Great.

Today, I worked on a patient who was recentely diagnosed with leukemia (I refuse to capitalize that fucking "el" letter).  I tried to be "cool" like I am with all the patients I work on, but I didn't and for whatever reason, I couldn't.  I felt like an asshole.  I went to clean some stuff and teared up.  Flashes of Donnie's face came to my mind, flashes of my FIL sitting there while being pumped with poison came to my mind.  I had to shake it off, I can't let the patient or anyone here see me cry was my thought.  All I wanted to do when I walked her out to her mom was give both a huge fucking hug.  I wanted to go to the bathroom and cry.  It was FINALLY time to go home and hang with my boys.  Relax.  Dinner. Couch.  Bed.  Or so I thought.....

Everyday I check Dominic's backpack for new art, newsletters, notes from his teacher or speech therapist.  I open his folder and there's an "official" looking letter.  It starts.... "It is with great sadness...."  A teacher  at the school had passed away.  The letter stated that she was diagnosed with cancer before school started.  OF COURSE SHE DID!  Cancer is like the new fucking cold isn't it?!?!?  Everyone fucking has it don't they!!??!  WHAT. THE. FUCK.  This explained why every teacher at the school drop off was sobbing as they came and got the kids yesterday morning.

I am so exhausted and tired of this shit.  I really and truly am.  SOOOO fucking done. DONE.  For someone stress eating this whole fucking week....I lost my appetite while trying to eat dinner and reading this letter from school.  I read it 3 times.  I thought of my patient today.  I thought of Donnie, I thought of my FIL.  I was beyond overwhelmed with sadness that I buried my face into my hands and cried.  Thank God Matt was upstairs with Dominic giving him a bath.  I didn't want either of them to see me cry.  I didn't want to upset either of them. 

I guess everyone is entitled to a "pity party" day huh?  This week sucked.  Today...sucked.  I feel drained.  Tomorrow is new.  I tell you today cancer, you win, you sucked all emotion from me.  Tomorrow I tell you exactly what that picture says above.  Fuck you.

Titanium

You shout it loud, but I can't hear a word you say

I'm talking loud, not saying much

I'm criticized, but all your bullets ricochet

You shoot me down, but I get up
I'm bulletproof, nothing to lose fire away, fire away

Ricochet, you take your aim fire away, fire away

You shoot me down, but I won't fall

I am titanium

You shoot me down, but I won't fall

I am titanium
Cut me down, but it's you who'll have further to fall

Ghost town and haunted love

Raise your voice, sticks and stones may break my bones

I'm talking loud, not saying much
I'm bulletproof, nothing to lose fire away, fire away

Ricochet, you take your aim fire away, fire away you shoot me down, but I won't fall

I am titanium you shoot me down, but I won't fall

I am titanium 

Stone hard, machine gun Fired at the ones who run

Stone hard, as bulletproof glass
You shoot me down, but I won't fall

I am titanium

David Guetta feat. Sia

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When I listen to music, I listen to the words.  I try and figure out what it means.  I try to relate to it.  I'm sure I'm not the only one, but at the same time I know there are people out there who just listen to listen, not for meaning. 

The above song is paired with a "shake your ass" kind of rhythym in which I do shake my ass and run to.  With this said, as I run and Sia is screaming "I am titaniuuuuuuumm", I'm like hell yeah, I'm gonna run my ass off.  It wasn't until a 13 year old girl on The X Factor toned the song down and sung it slowly and VERY well I might add, that it caught my attention differentely.  The lyrics spoke to me and I started crying.  One because she sung it well and two....well because this is how I feel with EVERYTHING right now.  EVERYTHING. 

Jessica said to me, "It looks like you have to be the rock..." that's me.  I am titanium.  Every time that cancer sneaks out of someone's mouth, everytime my FIL tells me he feels loopy and "mushy" from his pain meds, everytime I see stress in my husband, MIL and SIL, everytime I talk about how much I hate my FIL's oncologist, everytime my MIL tells me that all my FIL was sleep all day because of his meds, everytime I see that my FIL can't play with Dominic like he wants to because he's in pain, everytime, everytime, everytime I see the pain that my FIL is going through I can't show my vulnerability, I have to be the rock.  I have to be titanium.  On my runs now I do still hold onto what Jess told me to do.  Leave it in God's hands.  In all honesty, talking to Him has helped a great deal.  I was talking to my friend Jo on our walk and epiphanied (yes, that's a word in my happy land) that maybe before I dive into church with both feet, I should go alone, get my feet wet a little, get used to it all again.  I'm hoping along with just talking to him this way, going to church again will actually make me feel better.

I'd be lying if I said that I didn't care what people think of me, we all care in some way.  I have often thought, are people thinking why am I making, not a big deal, but making this about me?  Does that make sense?  It's stupid.  I know, but I wonder do people think, "it's just her FIL"  or why am I so upset?  UGG.. see... see what this shit does to me?!  Cancer gets me so fucked up upset that I start over thinking EVERYTHING.  Then my rational side is like, "shut up dude, this IS your family, this is your SON'S grandfather, your husbands father, of course this has to do with you too!" 

The other night, out of fucking nowhere, Matt says, "I don't think the chemo is working.  He's in too much pain.  I think this is it for him."  Now....what the FUCK do I say to THAT?!  I was taken aback because my husband is a fighter.  He does NOT give up... he just doesn't.  It's not his nature.  So this statement, I saw, as my husband kinda throwing in the towel.  I hugged him and said, "You can't think that way Matt.  You can't."  That was it.  How do I respond to that?!?!?  And as always, my wonderful BFFAE texts me asking how FIL is and I text back, "like shit."  I proceed to tell her what Matt says and she advised that I tell him that if that is the way he truly feels then to enjoy each day until the end.  A few weeks before the gauntlet fell and we didn't know the plan yet, my MIL was looking at a family photo we took last year in the fall.  She asked me if we were going to do that again because the colors were so nice and she enjoyed it.  I said no because it was just done last year.  Now that all of this stupid crap is happening I find myself trying to get my family together to do it again....I shouldn't have said no huh??

I also need/want to take this opportunity to apologize. I apologize, from the bottom of my heart for sucking as a friend lately.  I know I don't have to explain myself to anyone, BUT I feel awful as a friend, as a daughter, as a cousin, as a sister that I haven't called, texted, emailed.  I'm one person and can't be and do everything.  I'm not trying to sound like an asshole when I said the last sentence and I'm not saying that you guys aren't busy with your lives, but I am putting my all into my in laws right now and right now that is all that matters to me.  I know you guys understand, but please just be patient with my current level of suckiness as a friend, as a daughter, as a cousin, as a sister.  I'm trying my darndest to shoot a quick text, to try and make a call, make plans or even an email but by the end of the day I just want to crawl in a hole and sleep for 10 hours.  You guys know I love you.  You guys know I care.  Just bear with me please.....

Reasons.......

Reason.  Noun.

 

-A basis or cause, as for some belief, action, fact, event...

-A statement presented in justification or explanation of a belief or action.

- The mental powers concerned with forming conclusions, judgments, or inferences.

- Sound judgment; good sense.

- Normal or sound powers of mind; sanity.

 

I believe, for me, my life, personally that everything happens for a reason.  I may not like these things that happen, but they do.  With that said I do have 2 little hang-ups on things happening for a reason.

 

First hang up.....

 

Bosco.  Matt had him since he was a little pup.  He was 4 years old when we put him down.  He was THE greatest dog.  There are a million reasons why he was the best dog.  This dog helped my mom overcome her fear of dogs. I could go on and on about this Boxer.   When we put Bosco down and people tried to make us feel better by telling us that when they put their dog of 13 plus years down, I truly wanted to punch them.  It sucks putting a dog/pet down at any age, but really?  You're trying to make me feel better about putting down my FOUR year old pup when you got to enjoy yours for that long?  Yeah. NO.  I may never know why we had to let Bosco go so soon, but I know that it happened for a reason.   

Second hang up(s).....

Why cancer happened to this person.....

And this person....

I feel like my blog entries are a jumbled mess, so I do apologize for jumping around.  I promise I do have a point and the point I'm trying to get to comes down to religion today.

I'll get to the second "hang ups" in a bit, but 1st I need to express that I do believe in God, I believe that my life has been laid out for me, that there is a plan.  I believe that He does look out for me and listens when I need Him to.  BUT...someway, somehow, I lost my way.  I lost my faith, I lost interest, I just got lost.  It wasn't when Donnie was diagnosed, that actually just made things worse.  It all happened when my maternal grandmother passed away.  She was my teacher in religion.  We went to a Korean Catholic Church and the priest? Pastor? See how sad that is?  I don't even know the title to the person running the joint cuz I'm so out of touch.  ANYWAY.  He was very Korean and very old, couldn't understand him at times and grandma would translate.  She would also pinch the fuck out of my arm when I fell asleep :)  After church when all the other kids would hang out and play, the little shits would pick on me and make fun of me so I took off and just hung out with old ladies :)  Yes.  I got picked on at church.  Stupid kids.  I'm kinda glad though.  I loved spending time with my grandma.  When my grandmother passed away I didn't want to go to church anymore.  What was the point.  The ONLY friend I had at church was now gone.  We still went but as soon as I was old enough to say I was done, I stopped going.  That's when I got lost.

When people were going through rough times, asked me to "pray" for them, I realize now that I never spoke to God, I always talked to my grandma for guidance.  I felt like she helped me, I felt like she listened to me.  I went through all the "motions" of being a Catholic, observing Lent and all that jazz, but did it for her, not me and for years I was ok with that.  A friend asked me one night at dinner why I observe Lent and I was speechless.  Why am I doing this?  I don't go to church, I don't know my way around a bible, I'm scared to go back to church, I don't think I want to be Catholic anymore, I'm so screwed up confused.  I want a relationship with God, I do... I just don't know how.  I want to take Dominic to church, I want to instill values of religion to him, I want him to know enough to make an educated decision on all of this when he can choose for himself.  I don't want to be the idiot mom who can't answer religion questions when her kids ask.

I've said before in previous posts that when Donnie was diagnosed I got angry.  I took it out on God.  Why would he do this to a 16 month old baby?  Why?  He hasn't even begun to live his life... give it to me (this was before Dominic).  My "lost" status on religion and God spiraled out of control and got worse.  I was pissed off.  I needed a scapegoat.  God was my scapegoat.  It was my wonderful SIL that snapped me out of that shit and said to me, "God didn't do this to Donnie, you can't be mad at Him.  You have to ask Him to help Donnie and his family.  Don't be mad at God."  As mad as I was in that moment, she was right.  I still can't figure out what the reason is for this but maybe I never will.  Jess said to me when we were going through all of this with my FIL initially, "Maybe the reason why Don got sick was so that I could help you and Matt with your FIL...."

I'm sorry Jess.  I told you I would email you back and I lied.  This was my intention all along, don't be mad.  You were today's inspiration and yesterday's. 

This is what I got from Jessica yesterday morning....

Good morning,

 

You know how much adore you, right?  Well I do, I love you like a fat kid loves cake, I love you like I love my right arm, without you life would be difficult.  You are an amazing person inside and out.  You take care of everyone, you worry about everyone.  I love that you take care of yourself by running a lot of people can't find time for themselves and I think that's important.  There is a reason for this email, not just to tell you how much I love you although, yes I needed you to know that.

 

Here it is, I don't know how much you talk to God.  While you run, that would be a good time.  I'm not saying go to church, I'm not saying read the bible.  I'm saying just talk, talk in the shower, talk while your going to sleep, when you wake up, while on the pot, and while running.  Angie he will listen, you will feel so much better.  I was brought up in the Catholic church, I went to Catholic school, we went to church every Sunday...then we stopped.  Until Donnie got sick.  One day, I was at a really low point, I was feeling sad, I was mad, and you know what...there was nothing I could have done about it.  If there was anyone who could do something it was God, he was going to lead us to the right doctors, to the right people and he did.  I want you to put all your fears, your worries, on God and you will feel so much better. I love you and want you to be taken care of.  You need to see the brightside of things, you need to feel like someone is listening and He will and He is.

 

Ok I'm done.

 

Love you,

 

Jessica J. Monaco

I did EXACTLY what she suggested I do.  I got home from work, ran and chit chatted with God.  At 1st I was like, how the heck am I supposed to do this while I'm trying to run and breathe...then it all just fell into place.  I was running and talking to what seemed like myself, but I didn't care.  I was focused on the convo and didn't care what else was around me. Humans naturally want instant gratification in pretty much anything we do so I mentally prepped myself before I started dialing that phone.  I said to myself, I said, "Self, you may not get a phone call back soooo just talk and see what happens..."

Here is where my "everything happens for a reason" comes into play, because for me...it does.  I know this now.  Matt and I were watching "The Voice" (LOVE IT) tonight. A teenaged girl was showcased.  The family of 6 plus people live in Cali in a 2 bedroom apartment.  She sleeps on the couch and her brothers sleep on the floor.  Instantly, you feel for her and some would cry for her.  You know what she said?  "Other people have it a lot worse than me, so I'm thankful we have a roof over our heads...."  That's when I had the *palm to forehead* moment.  It worked.  Jess was right. 

I have to stop giving cancer the satisfaction of my negativity.  I have to take that energy and throw it into my family.  I have to take the time we have with my FIL and enjoy it to the fullest extent allowed.  Don't get it twisted, I still think cancer sucks and is a piece of shit and pissed off at it.  I'm not going to skip around and pretend to be "happy go lucky" while my FIL endures round 2 of chemo and is in pain.  BUT  I realize now that none of this is up to me, none of this is in my control and I'm getting angry at things I cannot control. 

"Yesterday is history, tomorrow is a mystery, but today is a gift. That is why it is called the "present."

Jessica, I love you.  Thank you for snapping me out of this.  First time I read it, I sobbed.  Second time, I sobbed again.  I have read it about 10 times since yesterday and feel empowered.  Thank you for always listening, never judging and never sugar coating.  Who needs who now? ;)
 



I run because....

My thoughts today are a compilation of 2 things that will intertwine. 


1. My love/respect for running

2. My FIL

They'll make sense, at least in my head it does....let's start w/ running.


Do you remember my post from last year?  The one where I said that I wanted a 26.2 sticker on my bumper?  Well, I am now the proud owner of a 13.1 sticker!!  The girl who gave up on running and herself several times is now official and I LOVE it.  I have a whole new respect for runners and a whole new outlook on my body.  My body is doing things that I never thought it was capable of doing.  I'M doing things that I never thought I was capable of doing.  When people told me they ran for the mental aspect and NOT physical, I didn't get it to be honest.  Now....I do.....

This is the reason I started running, my cousin Eric.  Cute isn't he?  He's single.  Sorry Eric ;)  He flew in from Cali for my cousin Jen's wedding 2 years ago.  Matt went to get him from O'Hare & when Eric walked through the door I got the shock of my life!!  I was able to wrap my arms around my cousin.  He had lost a person in weight!!! 150lbs....GONE!!!  I couldn't believe he hadn't said anything or posted any photos on FaceBook!!  You poop!  As we talked about how he had started to lose the weight, he said that he just went out and ran one day and has been ever since, he also dabbles in triathlons.  I was SO fucking proud of him & still am!! That's when my wheels started turning.  "If Eric can do this...so can I!"  I always envied runners, I wanted to be a runner.  He was my inspiration and continues to be.  Thank you Eric, I love you.

I know I've posted this picture before....this was my very 1st 5k w/ wifey Jen!  :)  She made me sign up ;) and I'm so glad she did.  It was exhilarating to cross that finish line and it was also a great kick start to my running "career."  Thanks for making me sign up wife, it was the best thing for me!  I've been running ever since!!  I love you.

This is Marybeth.  We ran the Rock n' Roll Chicago 1/2 marathon together, well not together-together, but...you know what I mean.  She's taught me a lot about running and a whole lot about myself.  Marybeth slapped this on my FaceBook wall the day before our 1/2 marathon along with other mantra's that totally helped me that morning.  Thanks friend, I love you!! :)

An excerpt from an article by John Bingham called, "No Need For Speed"

"...I AM A RUNNER because I know what effort feels like, and I embrace it. I know when I'm pushing the limits of my comfort and why I'm doing it. I know that heavy breathing and an accelerated heart rate - things I once avoided - are necessary if I want to be a better runner.
I AM A RUNNER because I value and respect my body. It will whisper to me when I've done too much. And if I choose to listen to that whisper, my body won't have to scream in pain later on.
I AM A RUNNER because I am willing to lay it all on the line. I know that every finish line has the potential to lift my spirits to new highs or devastate me, yet I line up anyway.
I AM A RUNNER because I know that despite my best efforts, I will always want more from myself. I will always want to know my limits so that I can exceed them.
I AM A RUNNER because I run. Not because I run fast. Not because I run far.
I AM A RUNNER because I say I am. And no one can tell me I'm not."

Next to giving birth to my son, running the 1/2 was THE hardest thing that I'd ever done.  If you told me 3 years ago that I'd be running 13.1 miles, I would have laughed in your face and said, "prooooobably not..."  Lesson here: NEVER say NEVER.  I finished it in a little over 3 hours.  I truly didn't give a crap about the time.  I just wanted to cross that finish line, that was the only goal.  I was so fucking proud of myself you have NO idea.

Aaaaaand this is THE BEST little running group EVER!  We're the "Resolution Runners."  We are made up of runners and walkers.  Anyone can join ;) and I love the shit out of them.  We do 1-2 5k's a month, if not more.  They keep me going.  They keep me motivated and they're fucking awesome.  Running for me is therapy.  I may not hit my goal in distance every time I get out there, but it clears my head.  It keeps me sane and trust me...you want me sane.

Now, let's touch on my FIL.  When he was going through all that pain before the diagnosis I ran to release my thoughts into the world.  I didn't want them in my head anymore & it helped.  At the time I was running on the treadmill and I ran for him, as silly as it sounds, I did.  When my shin pain started up I was like (in my head), "Dude, dad's back is killing him & you complain of shin pain?!"  I still have the pic on my phone of how many miles I clocked that night.  4.3 miles.  I did it to push myself but it was my "punching bag" too.  Like I said, I ran to release some of that negative energy into the world.  Running is also so much cheaper then going to my therapist!  :)  Can you imagine the bill?!!?

I have a VERY addictive personality.  I'd say that I am addicted to running.  I promised Matt that I would rest one full week after the 1/2 marathon and all I wanted to do that week was run!!!  :)  My other addiction....SUGAR!!  Ask any bag of Skittles, Starburst... just candy in general.  Once I tear into the stash of candy at work, I'm done. I can't just have one piece, I can polish off a bag of Skittles in seconds. There are days at work that I'll walk back and forth to the lab to stuff my face full of that glorious sugar.  Another addiction, well not really an addiction is wine.  I disliked the stuff before, some were too sour and just gross.  My point here is that I run so I don't sit on my ass and pound 2 glasses of wine or polish off a bag of Tootsie Roll Pops to release the "stress" of all this.  Addictive personality, stress eater, add all that up and it's a no good situation.  I'm also a cheap date, one drink and I'm lit.  The day after my FIL's official diagnosis, Matt, Dominic and I went to dinner and I had a VERY strong margarita, 2 actually now that I think about it.  I understood that night why people drink their problems away because in that short time that I had consumed those margarita's and was tipsy, the cancer was a non issue all of a sudden, we'd get through this as a family.  It was no biggie, nothing to stress about and that wasn't ok w/ me.  I'm not trying to say I'm a drunk but now I see why people turn to the bottle to numb their pain.

I failed to mention that after his CT scan, the doc ordered an MRI & a bone scan.  Yay for more tests!!! :/  He received the results last Wednesday and he starts chemo Tuesday.... again.  And again, if you are close to me and are finding all this shit out through my blog, I truly do apologize.  It's just so much harder to talk about because it's really real now.  Not that his cancer and chemo and radiation treatments weren't real before, but this shit is back, not fucking around.  The tumor grew enough to cause more pain. That's the whole point in my fucking freaking out mentally.  It's back. There isn't a fucking week that goes by that Matt doesn't come home and tell me that someone at work just lost their loved one because their cancer came back.  Like what the fuck!!  Notice when I was talking about running I only dropped the F bomb once?  I hate cancer.  I may talk alot of shit but if cancer was a tangible being, I'd beat the living snot out of it.

We had dinner w/ my in laws on Thursday.  On the way home Matt says to me in the car, "Remember that guy I told you about whose wife's cancer came back?  She passed away this morning."  I said, "Of course she did!!!!!" :( She left behind, not only her husband but their two sons, 8 and 6 years old. Again.  WHAT THE FUCK.  Really?  So we're those people now & can hear the convo's already.... "Have you talked to Matt?  His dad's tumor grew.  He's back to chemo."  That's us.  Again.

I asked Matt how my FIL was on Wednesday, he said teary eyed & so was my MIL.  When I spoke to my FIL that evening, I asked how he was doing.  "This is why I wanted to wait until the end of October because I was scared.  What are you gonna do though, I have to do it again, that's all.  Don't worry about it Ang, ok?" Not many things phase my FIL, so when he tells me he's scared, that's when I was scared too.  I wanted to crawl in a hole for several reasons but mainly because I did feel bad being "pushy" to make him go.  Matt was the one who ended up calling the nurse but I needed to make sure someone did push him to go early.  He only needs chemo once every 3 weeks as of now.  Who's to say that it wouldn't have been more had he waited til the end of October?   

Matt is stressed the fuck out at work, he can't sleep, can hardly keep his eyes open at 8pm, when he does sleep it's only for a few hours which leads to his migraines...repeat that shit every fucking day & you have my poor husband right now.  I feel utterly helpless when it comes to my husband, SIL and MIL.  I feel awful that we have to go through this, I feel awful that my FIL has to do this again.  I feel awful that I put my parents on the back burner at times because I'm so focused on my in laws.  They totally understand why I don't call as much or don't do as much with them, but I still feel like I'm doing a shit job as their daughter. 

I know that I have to be "the rock" right now which is fine, it's a job that I know I can do but I started freaking out about work and who's going to take care of D?  Do I have to quit?  Do I have to cut my hours again?  I'm in a new position at work that I really can't take off that easily anymore. Who's gonna get Dominic off the bus?  Who's gonna feed him lunch?  Matt can't take days off to stay home, he needs to be with dad if he can.  All of this was playing in my head before we found out he needs more chemo.  I work for people that completely understand the situation & have always worked with me so I wasn't too worried but Dominic was still on my head. My in laws are his main caregivers, so now what?  With that part said, I live in THE best fucking 'hood.  EVER ;) Our neighbors have stepped up and helped us out SO much last week!  Everything from getting D off the bus, lunch and just hangin' out with him.  Obviously, family will always be #1 for me & if worse comes to worse and I have to stay home one day so be it, but reality is....I have bills to pay too. 

If you're still with me and reading this.  Thank you.  It means alot that you take the time to read it.  I'm not the most positive person sometimes, but let's face it, NOTHING about cancer is positive.  NOTHING.  I wish I could be the "glass 1/2 full" person, but that's not me, especially with this.  I'm a pessimist by nature and I would love, love, love NOT to be but the reality of all of this is that my FIL has to do it all over again.  Yes, I know he is still here, don't think for a second that I take that for granted BUT because of where the tumor is, because of what we're dealing with, it's hard to stay as positive as I'd like.  He will never know the phrase "cancer free" and this isn't me being a pessimist, this is a fact.  No doctor in their right mind will ever touch my FIL's tumor.  When I say it's on his spine, let me remind you that it's not just on his spine...that piece of shit is wrapped around his spine and a fucking artery no less. 

This is why I run.  I run because I don't want to pay therapy bills anymore.  I run because I want to improve my 5k time.  I run for exercise.  I run because it keeps me sane.  I run to release all of this bullshit into the world so it isn't stuck in my head on repeat. 

While I have running to keep me sane. I often wonder... what does Matt have?  I wish that Matt had a "release", something that he loves to do to keep his mind busy.  Then it hit me.  He does have a release....our son.

When Matt comes home and I see the stress in his face, I wish there was something more I could do than just a hug him or kiss him and tell him everything will be ok.  I wish I can put him in a room full of pricey china w/ a very heavy bat.  I wish he would run with me.... 

So, on those stressed out days, I say hi then I leave the room to go do whatever and then out of nowhere I hear Dominic's uncontrollable laughter because Matt is going to town on his ribs ;)  Isn't it amazing what the sound of a child's laugh can do for your soul?   There are afternoons that I will be upstairs doing something and hear Dominic and Matt laughing away and I will stop, sit on the stairs and just listen & absorb it.  Matt loves being with Dominic, Matt loves making him laugh, Matt needs Dominic ...we all do.  Dominic is everyone's break from this.  It amazes me that a 3 and 1/2 year old holds this kind of power and he doesn't even fucking know it.  I've been keeping a journal (which I'm SO fucking behind on) since the day I found out I was pregnant with D & when shit hit the fan with FIL's cancer, I debated..."Do I write it all down?  Do I tell D everything?  Even the bad stuff?"  I have to.  I have to be honest so that when he does read these he'll understand how much his "pa" loves him, how much his "pa" needs him......



Thank God It's NOT Friday....

I hate Monday's.  I love Wednesday's <---these are my "Friday's" :)  Yep, I am spoiled with my hours at work.  I ALWAYS have a 3-4 day weekend! 

Never, ever in my life though did I NOT want it to be Friday.  Today, I don't want it to be tomorrow.  My FIL gets his PET scan results tomorrow at 1:30pm.  Hence, the "Thank God It's NOT Friday..."

Pictures are to remember great memories right?  Pictures are supposed to spark something in your memory bank and then you talk about said moment.  Yeah...this picture makes me everything...it makes me angry, it upsets me, it makes me laugh & also makes me happy aaaaaaall at once.  It is what it is right?  THIS is how my son will remember his pa or will he?  He's only 3 and 1/2.  When was your earliest memory?  Let's be real ok... really... if anything happens to my FIL right now, Dominic is only 3 and 1/2.

This picture just breaks every single millimeter of my heart.  I remember my in laws coming over on this day.  Right as I was getting ready to walk out the door for work, my FIL says, "I'm gonna ask Matthew to shave my head.  My hair is starting to fall out."  I wonder what my white/blank face looked like.  Literally NO words came out of my mouth, I kissed everyone "bye" and I left.  How the FUCK do you tell your husband who is already having a shit time with this that his father is going to ask him to shave his fucking head after work.  HOW?!  I got in the car, pulled over into the next block and sobbed.  I had to warn Matt though, to mentally and emotionally prepare himself for the question.  I was completely crushed and blindsided so you can only imagine how Matt would have felt. 

As Matt was doing this, Dominic was having a ball.  I'm glad he was there.  He was making my FIL laugh the entire time.  Meanwhile, I see my husband fighting back ALOT of emotions.

I don't want this for my family again, I don't.  I still have NOT had the balls to bring it up to my MIL, I just can't.  It's hard for ME to talk about it this time around, God only knows what she's feeling!  I just can't.  Not yet. 

I don't want Friday.  I don't.  I don't want bad news.  Yes, I know, stay positive, don't think that way.  There is absolutely NOTHING positive about cancer.  NOTHING.  Matt used to talk about it all the time before.  We have yet to have a full on conversation about my FIL.  He's struggling.  I know he is....

My FIL is scared, I know he is.  He had the opportunity to get these results yesterday (Wednesday).  I told him last week to make whatever appointment he needed as I had a backup for someone to watch Dominic this week.  He told the nurse "no", Matt was pissed and that's an understatement.  He told us that he told nurse Patty, "I have to watch my grandson...." He's in pain, he's anxious to know and NOT know at the same time and the only thing he's concerned about is his grandson.....

Moments

Moments to me, are things/events that happen in life that can be good, bad, even ugly. Life is made up of these moments.  One of my most memorable, of course, is this one.....

When my son was born.  Aside from marrying Matt, THIS was it, the greatest day of my life, the moment that defined me as a person.  Like every parent, especially a mother, you have plans for your child.  I still do, I want my son to be anything he wants to be, I want my son to be happy in life, I want everything for my son......everything.

This...this is a happy moment in life.  This is something that you print a million photos of and show the world.  This is a good...no .... this is a great moment.

At Dominic's 1 year check, our previous pediatrician asked me how many words Dominic was saying/babbling.  My response w/ my hand in the form of a "zero", said....none.  Dr. Weiss looked puzzled, but quickly retracted that facial expression and said, "You know, let's not worry, I'll follow up with you in a few months."  I say, "Ok, cool."  Thought nothing of it.  Fast forward 6 months later, he asks the same question to which I still respond the same answer.

Without boring you with single-drawn out details, I will just tell you that we did everything that goes along with a speech delay.  Hearing test after hearing test, speech therapy and developmental therapy.  We've had people tell us that he's just "lazy" because we as parents and/or grandparents can't help but talk FOR our kids, which is what we did, it's natural. 

Recentely, I told the school speech therapist that if this is the only thing that is ever the issue with our son, then I'll take it.  Dominic is happy and healthy... BUT, this my friends did not come to me easily.  When we started the journey of hearing tests on a 1 and 1/2 year old, continued to therapies to get him to talk, my mind questioned my chops as a mom.  "Where did I fuck up as a mother?"  "Did I NOT do something with him?"  "What's wrong with my son?"  "How did this happen?"  "Did I DO something?"  "Was it something I did during pregnancy?"  "Did I eat the wrong things?"  "How did I fuck up as a mother?"  "What did I do wrong?"  You guys can tell me 10 million times a day that I didn't do anything wrong, that I didn't fuck this up somehow, that I'm a great mom, that I didn't do this to my son, but at the end of the day, I still feel that I fucked up somehow.  I'm supposed to know what my son needs.  I'm his mother, this is my job, I'm supposed to teach him, I'm supposed to talk to him, did I not talk to him enough?  Do you know how frustrating it is when Dominic wants something and I don't know what it is and I yell at him because now I have Lightning McQueen flying at my fucking face because he's frustrated that his mother doesn't know what he wants?  This is an ugly moment, a bad moment,one that I wish did not exist.

This photo isn't due to a frustrated moment due to the delay.  It was a 2 year old photo session that he wanted nothing to do with ;)  But this is the side of Dominic people don't see alot.  This is the frustrated look/reaction Matt and I get when Dominic has his "moments."  In all honesty, I'd be pissed off at my mom and dad too if they couldn't understand me. 

On the recent trip to Sicily, yes, the language barrier kept Dominic from being able to play with his cousins, but I was heartbroken at the fact that they were trying to talk to him and play with him and he couldn't.  I tried, in the past and still do, arrange playdates with kids who do talk and I just found myself frustrated & (HATE admitting this) jealous....no... envious afterwards.  We were at a birthday party for a friend's little boy and an almost 2 year old climbs up next to me and asked his mom, "Mommy, can I have cake too?"  WHAT THE FUCK....ARE YOU KIDDING ME?  was the thought in my head.  Don't worry... I didn't blurt it out.  I was frustrated because he can tell his mom what he wants.  I have to guess or assume that Dominic wants cake too. 

No one wants this child to speak more than me & what is beyond annoying is when people who just don't get it say shit like, "Once he talks, you won't be able to shut him up...."  Really?  You obviously don't get it and that's fine but really?  Once he starts fully talking do you know how relieved Matt and I will be?  I honestly just laugh it off and go along with that "joke" now, it used to piss me off more than anything but really I feel immune to it, I write it off as people just do not get it and again....now... that's ok.  We just enrolled Dominic in Tae Kwon Do class.  2 weeks ago on a Saturday, Master An counted to 10 and the other kids followed suit.  I broke down and sobbed at home because of the look on Dominic's face.  I see him wanting to join in but he just can't.  He knows what they're doing, but he couldn't join in to count with the other kids.  That fucking sucked donkey balls.  This... this is a sad moment.....

Let's bring you up to speed now.  Dominic is in school, he loves it there and the staff is wonderful!  He goes 5 days a week for 2 hours and also receives speech therapy twice a week.  His "babbling" has taken OFF!  Matt and I have done more to make him use his words, for example, we know he wants juice, but wait for him to say at least part of the word before we give it to him.  We want him to say "I want juice please."  Dominic's way is "I wa ju peeeeese" :)  It's gotten better and way less frustrating...no more cars are being chucked at my face.

Today was, finally, a great moment.  One that inspired today's pensive entry.  Dominic has been, in his own way, speaking A LOT more within the past few weeks.  His longest sentence was just this past Monday morning when he said to me, "Mama, I wa mo ju peeeese." I praised THE shit out of him, hi 5'd him, hugged and kissed him and asked him to say it again and he did.  I didn't have to ask if he wanted juice, he just told me.  So today's moment?  I was on my way home from the city and I called home to let Matt know I was on my way.  Matt put Dominic on the phone and with every question I asked him, there was a response.  He understands me, he always has, but now he's responding.  I mean NO offense here and hate to compare Dominic's speech delay to something like blindness or deafness, but you know how blind people's other senses kick in?  And those other senses help them get through life?  I see that in Dominic.  He couldn't speak yet his grasp of things was so spot on.  I felt happy after that phone call.  I felt relieved.  My friend Carolyn was in the car with me and not that I can't cry in front of other people... for whatever reason, I just held it in.  It would've been tears of joy had I unleashed the plumbing :)

As I said, if this is the only issue that we ever have to face with our son, I'll take it.  I have to step back sometimes and put into perspective that things can be so much worse and they aren't and for that I'm truly grateful.  BUT I allow myself the pity parties because this isn't easy. It isn't easy when a table full of teachers and social workers are telling you that something is wrong with your son.  Whether it's a speech delay or a health issue, it isn't easy.  Do I feel better about the whole, "I fucked up as a mom?"  Honestly, no.  I don't.  A small part of me still asks that, but it's not as bad as it used to be.  A part of me knows that it wasn't Matt and I that fucked up, it's just something that is..... and something that we need to go through together as a family. 



WHOA!

Close to a year since a post huh?!  Can you tell I was busy?!  Kinda glad I decided to do this as I haven't in a while!  I will also remind you that as this is  my blog that entails all of my feelings. You will see me dropping alot of "f" bombs, so if that's not your thing, just hit that little red "x" on the upper right hand corner because I'm that stressed and frustrated this week.... you'll see why, but 1st................

Sicily!  Finally!  After years of talking about it, we got clearance from the tower to go!

All my FIL wanted out of this life was to take his grandson to Sicily.  I love this picture.  3 generations of Grasso men.  Beautiful isn't it?  We couldn't go last summer because my FIL was diagnosed with squamous cell carcinoma.  Don't bother google-ing it & I refuse to capitalize the letters.  He's not the "norm" case, norm as in the cancer is ON his skin....nope.. he's in the 5% of the fucking population that gets this type of skin cancer on his fucking spine AND wrapped around a major artery. 

I notice that people toss around the phrase "FML" for THE stupidest shit, traffic, bad day at work, etc.  THIS IS FML people....THIS... cancer. I told you guys I hate cancer right?  Yeah.  I do.  My mom's side of the family is riddled with it.  I lost my maternal grandparents to it.  I lost my aunt to it.  I don't neccesarily live in fear that my mom will have it, but the thought does scare the fucking shit out of me.  I will quote my friend Lindsey here..."I wish cancer would get cancer and die."  Don't we all.

So, back to my FIL.  A few months before our trip, he was cleared by the oncologist to go and to stay on the 3-6 month plan for checks and scans.  The scan prior to the trip was a passing one.  The little fucker (tumor) is still there and will always be there, but it didn't grow. 

We had THE best time in Sicily.  If Italy/Sicily is not on your bucket list, I suggest you put it there.  If you need a tour guide... yes.... I will go with you :)  Anyways, he got what he wished for, to take Dominic to Sicily and show him off to his family.  Who says wishes don't come true....

My FIL was amazed at how well Dominic did out there.  Hell... I was amazed at how well he did.  This child is so fucking resilient and just goes with the flow, just like his daddy.  He does not get this from me ;)

Let's go back to that statistic.  5%--what sucks is not only will my FIL NEVER EVER be cancer free is that no surgeon will touch him.  IF we found one that did, the cons...well paralysis and yeah, no thanks.  So, IF anything were to happen again like a "flare-up", we're back to more chemo aaaaand that's it.  He's had radiation, so there's no more of that.  

Which leads me to the fact that FIL is having a PET scan this Friday.  Why?  He's having more of that kind of pain in his legs/back.  I got home from work Monday and FIL said hi, but no picking on me, no sarcasm, nothing.  Mind you this is how I knew he was in pain last year.  My FIL and I have a VERY sarcastic, in your face relationship, don't get it twisted... I love the man dearly, but that's just us, that's how we are :)  I asked at dinner, "What's up with you? No picking on me? No smart ass dad today?" Nothing. The look on his face said it all. Fuck.  Let me rewind a bit here, last week is when we had to pull it out of him, to admit that he's been having pain in the 1st place. 

*Side note--I apologize in advance to those of you close to me that are finding out this way.  For some reason, it's harder to talk about this time*

FIL told MIL the week prior to that!  Damn Sicilians....so fucking stubborn!  But the I thought about it.  This has nothing to do with stubborness, well maybe a little, but I KNOW he's scared and quite frankly so am I.  Do you know how many stories I fucking hear on a daily basis about so and so's mom's cancer came back and she passed away?  Or so and so's uncle just passed away cuz HIS cancer came back? 

Yeah...so to say the least I'm fucking scared shitless.  All of this is fucking bullshit.  Yes, I know, think positive, don't think the worst, but in reality that's what humans do don't they?  Think the negative right away?  Well, that's what I do, that's what Matt's doing and I can't imagine what the fuck my MIL is thinking right now... how scared SHE IS!!!!!!  ARGH....I fucking hate cancer's life.

All the what if's play in my head when I run now, making for a great run because of all the stress I release into the world, but sucks at the same time because it's not the sweat in my eyes that makes me cry anymore.  It's the thought of my son without his best friend.  It's the thought that my FIL didn't get to enjoy Dominic to the fullest, you know through his teens and shit.  It's the thought that IF something does happen and we lose him, Dominic will always point to a passing Toyota Camry and say, "Pa cah" (translation-grandpa's car) & it won't be cute anymore, it'll be sad.  It's the thought that cancer is a piece of shit that doesn't discriminate.  It's the thought that all I want to do is punch a fucking hole in the wall in anger.  It's the thought that my husband can't sleep at night because of all this and scared to lose his father to this shit.  It's the thought of my family going through all of this all over again. 

Do you know what scares me THE most of all of this?  That my FIL will give up.  That he'll do chemo again and MAYBE a 3rd time?  But what if he needs it a 4th time or 5th time?  What then?  How can I NOT think about all those what if's?  How can I NOT think this way?  Trust me, I do try hard NOT to.  I have to snap Matt out of the negativity sometimes, but really...how much can one truly take is what I'm afraid of. 

 

As of now,  this fucker (cancer) has the potential to crush not only my MIL, SIL, my husband & my soul, but more importantely it will crush my son's.  Yes, I understand he's only 3 and 1/2 and he may not remember this or the trip, but he's a smart cookie.  He'll know that "pa" isn't here if that's what our path leads to....

I truly am hoping to snap out of this little pity party I'm having for my family.  I am hoping for some kind of good news after Friday. 

I just hope....

If you are a prayer, do me a favor will ya?  Throw one in there for my FIL.....