This week, I had my biannual dentist appointment. You would think, after all the cancer-related pokes, prods, and scans I've had, the dentist wouldn't phase me.
Not so!
Why do we go willingly to the dentist? Well, I'm being grown up about it, but there's definitely an unwilling, kicking and screaming part of me that looks for any excuse to reschedule for another month. But I like my teeth, so "short term pain, long term gain" helps my adult self win almost every time, and I end up dragging myself through the door, opening my mouth wide so they can wield those sharp, pointy metal scrapers right next to my delicate mucous membranes. They've never slipped and gouged my gums, but I still white-knuckle it through the whole process.
I used to like my dentist and hygenist. I'd ask why we couldn't just go to lunch and skip the scraping. They never agreed - or they never understood what I was saying while their hands and instruments were crowding my mouth. But then my dentist sold her practice to her partner and retired. The new dentist is OK, but her hygenist, while as cute as all hygenists are (ever noticed that all dental hygenists are adorable?! I think it's part of the admission process), is nearly SILENT. It's unnerving, and, after the explain-it-all directive during nursing school, it just seems wrong. It's way more awkward than having someone try to carry on a conversation with you when you can't coherently respond.
Normally, the routine is scrape, floss, polish. This time, she started with polishing. What?! I commented on the change and asked why. She just said, "Sometimes it's scrape and polish, sometimes it's polish and scrape." My "I've never had it done differently" comment elicited no further explanation. Hm. I like the polishing! I particularly like it at the end, where I get to choose my flavor and relax a little while my teeth get a spit shine - without any pointy, scrapy instruments.
The bottom line is I need a new dentist. And I have six months to do it. But is it going to happen before February 27, 2014? Nope. Not when I have chemo and reconstruction to focus on. Unless, of course, the dentist fairy (who must be the tooth fairy's older sister) finds a new dentist for me, makes the appointment, and takes care of transferring my records. For now, I have six lovely months to ignore the fact that the dentist exists, and I'm going to love every minute of it.
Saturday, August 24, 2013
Tuesday, August 20, 2013
What to Say, What to Say?
Look at all that hair! And my sun-warmed, healthy-looking skin! (You can ignore the red scar from my "power port" placement.) During radiation I took a drug that made the radiation work better - and made me more sensitive to the sun. Well, I found out that, with some good sunscreen, my skin got BROWN instead of it's normal reddish-tan. YIppee!
Tonight I find myself in a strange position. I'm excited to blog, but I have no idea what to write about. Normally I want to blog because I have something to share.
I could expound on how wonderful it is to feel good - energetic and "normal" - after a couple months of very limited energy and strength. Radiation is very tolerable for most people, but not for me - whew! I'm SO glad to have that out of the way.
I could tell you what a kick I get out of my husband when he has to be sedated. We're getting to THAT age, and he had a colonoscopy today, so all afternoon he was all lovey-dovey. Usually it's directed at the nurse, but, I guess now that I have my RN license, I qualify, too. :)
I could list all the reasons why I love going to Minnesota to visit my family. I just got back last week and I was thrilled by little things like my 2 yr old niece's counting, which includes "el-leve" between ten and thirteen (so efficient!) and my 2.5 yr old niece's somersaults and sing-songy way of saying "Auntie Ly-ynne!" that I can't refuse.
That's the thing about blogging - should I be funny? Inspiring? Encouraging? Sarcastic? Thoughtful? I have a few serious topics in mind, but I just met with someone who has not read this, but heard that I'm really funny. (No pressure!) And I'm not in the mood for serious tonight, given how great I feel after weeks alternating between the couch and dragging myself to a myriad of treatments and doctor appointments.
So tonight I'm going with a confession. My TV guilty pleasure. A couple times a season, my husband says something like, "What can you possibly find valuable in this program?!"
Here it is: Double Divas.
Wait! Don't take my IQ down 100 points or write me off completely! I have a good reason! Really!
I've never been a fan of pink. But this breast cancer of mine has signed me up for a world of pink. (I am mystified why October is breast cancer awareness month. It's fall! Pink has no place in that season. Plus it's the month I was born - why are we muddying it up with PINK?! I must protest.) Besides the pink issues, I've never been a fan of all the breast talk that surrounds breast cancer awareness events. I'd like to participate in a 3 Day Breast Cancer walk, but there are too many things outside my comfort zone. There's all that pink, for one, plus all those shirts/hats/banners saying "Save the Ta-tas," and "I love Boobies" - eek! Not to mention all the visual representation of boobs. I think the sea of pink tents might just look like a sea of them. Too much for this prim and proper girl! And if you want to make me cringe, suggest I join a group called "Bosom Buddies" or "Breast Friends." (Just a note: all these things bring much help and healing to many, so feel free to save the ta-tas in pink leopard print with your breast friends, just please understand when I opt out.)
Needless to say, I'm reluctant to embrace the dressings of most breast cancer awareness events!
But, because of breast cancer and my BRCA1 genetic mutation (which gives me a 85-ish% chance of having breast cancer again, plus an increased risk for several other cancers), boobs are an inescapable part of my life right now. In March I had bilateral mastectomies and started the reconstruction process, which usually takes several months. My reconstruction is on hold till January while I get more treatment for my ovarian cancer (thank you, BRCA1). In the meantime, I am living with lopsided "tissue expanders" that feel like coconuts. Cancer has taught me to hug more, but I'm pretty self conscious about my expanders... one of my nurses told me to be careful not to hurt anyone! I think she was joking, but I'm not completely sure. No one says anything, but my 2 yr old niece noticed when I picked her up - gave me a few curious pats and then went back to her mom for a comparison! I think everyone else is just being polite. (Thank you.)
While I'm in this reconstruction phase, my tolerance of this topic has greatly increased. I'm in a Facebook group for women who are considering or going through reconstruction because they have the BRCA1 mutation and are eliminating their breast cancer risk (ala Angelina Jolie, if you remember the news from a few months ago). It's an international support group, complete with all sorts of medical questions and before-and-after pictures. I love it (but my news feed can be a bit shocking at times - I have to be careful where I am!).
Double Divas is a show about two women in Atlanta (I think) who run a lingerie shop. It's not exactly classy and intellectual. For example, last week they decided to go turkey hunting with their husbands, which inspired them to make a bullet-proof corset. The corset worked (no one was wearing it during testing), but their hunting abilities were dismal at best.
But I LOVE this show because it's all about helping women find a bra that fits properly. They are complete evangelists and won't pass up a woman who needs their help, whether she be their waitress, pedicurist, or just someone walking by on the street. And besides custom corsets, they make custom bras for women who are way past normal sizes. I'm all for women helping women, and while these two are a little rough around the edges, they're doing something amazing for women and boosting confidence and self-esteem as they go. Plus, they're hilariously loony.
Don't hold your breath hoping to see me in pink someday. But don't be surprised if you see me wearing a t-shirt that says "Yes, they're fake. The real ones tried to kill me" next year. Cancer has made me a better person: more hugging, more comfortable with body parts and privacy. But it isn't going to get me to like pink.
Tonight I find myself in a strange position. I'm excited to blog, but I have no idea what to write about. Normally I want to blog because I have something to share.
I could expound on how wonderful it is to feel good - energetic and "normal" - after a couple months of very limited energy and strength. Radiation is very tolerable for most people, but not for me - whew! I'm SO glad to have that out of the way.
I could tell you what a kick I get out of my husband when he has to be sedated. We're getting to THAT age, and he had a colonoscopy today, so all afternoon he was all lovey-dovey. Usually it's directed at the nurse, but, I guess now that I have my RN license, I qualify, too. :)
I could list all the reasons why I love going to Minnesota to visit my family. I just got back last week and I was thrilled by little things like my 2 yr old niece's counting, which includes "el-leve" between ten and thirteen (so efficient!) and my 2.5 yr old niece's somersaults and sing-songy way of saying "Auntie Ly-ynne!" that I can't refuse.
That's the thing about blogging - should I be funny? Inspiring? Encouraging? Sarcastic? Thoughtful? I have a few serious topics in mind, but I just met with someone who has not read this, but heard that I'm really funny. (No pressure!) And I'm not in the mood for serious tonight, given how great I feel after weeks alternating between the couch and dragging myself to a myriad of treatments and doctor appointments.
So tonight I'm going with a confession. My TV guilty pleasure. A couple times a season, my husband says something like, "What can you possibly find valuable in this program?!"
Here it is: Double Divas.
Wait! Don't take my IQ down 100 points or write me off completely! I have a good reason! Really!
I've never been a fan of pink. But this breast cancer of mine has signed me up for a world of pink. (I am mystified why October is breast cancer awareness month. It's fall! Pink has no place in that season. Plus it's the month I was born - why are we muddying it up with PINK?! I must protest.) Besides the pink issues, I've never been a fan of all the breast talk that surrounds breast cancer awareness events. I'd like to participate in a 3 Day Breast Cancer walk, but there are too many things outside my comfort zone. There's all that pink, for one, plus all those shirts/hats/banners saying "Save the Ta-tas," and "I love Boobies" - eek! Not to mention all the visual representation of boobs. I think the sea of pink tents might just look like a sea of them. Too much for this prim and proper girl! And if you want to make me cringe, suggest I join a group called "Bosom Buddies" or "Breast Friends." (Just a note: all these things bring much help and healing to many, so feel free to save the ta-tas in pink leopard print with your breast friends, just please understand when I opt out.)
Needless to say, I'm reluctant to embrace the dressings of most breast cancer awareness events!
But, because of breast cancer and my BRCA1 genetic mutation (which gives me a 85-ish% chance of having breast cancer again, plus an increased risk for several other cancers), boobs are an inescapable part of my life right now. In March I had bilateral mastectomies and started the reconstruction process, which usually takes several months. My reconstruction is on hold till January while I get more treatment for my ovarian cancer (thank you, BRCA1). In the meantime, I am living with lopsided "tissue expanders" that feel like coconuts. Cancer has taught me to hug more, but I'm pretty self conscious about my expanders... one of my nurses told me to be careful not to hurt anyone! I think she was joking, but I'm not completely sure. No one says anything, but my 2 yr old niece noticed when I picked her up - gave me a few curious pats and then went back to her mom for a comparison! I think everyone else is just being polite. (Thank you.)
While I'm in this reconstruction phase, my tolerance of this topic has greatly increased. I'm in a Facebook group for women who are considering or going through reconstruction because they have the BRCA1 mutation and are eliminating their breast cancer risk (ala Angelina Jolie, if you remember the news from a few months ago). It's an international support group, complete with all sorts of medical questions and before-and-after pictures. I love it (but my news feed can be a bit shocking at times - I have to be careful where I am!).
Double Divas is a show about two women in Atlanta (I think) who run a lingerie shop. It's not exactly classy and intellectual. For example, last week they decided to go turkey hunting with their husbands, which inspired them to make a bullet-proof corset. The corset worked (no one was wearing it during testing), but their hunting abilities were dismal at best.
But I LOVE this show because it's all about helping women find a bra that fits properly. They are complete evangelists and won't pass up a woman who needs their help, whether she be their waitress, pedicurist, or just someone walking by on the street. And besides custom corsets, they make custom bras for women who are way past normal sizes. I'm all for women helping women, and while these two are a little rough around the edges, they're doing something amazing for women and boosting confidence and self-esteem as they go. Plus, they're hilariously loony.
Don't hold your breath hoping to see me in pink someday. But don't be surprised if you see me wearing a t-shirt that says "Yes, they're fake. The real ones tried to kill me" next year. Cancer has made me a better person: more hugging, more comfortable with body parts and privacy. But it isn't going to get me to like pink.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)