Wednesday, January 30, 2008

Another "B" post

As if my baby boy and bitches weren't enough fun for one week, hows about a little biopsy to tip the excitement meter to full throttle?

Here's the lowdown:

  • Mammogram in December
  • Results from Radiologist: "Come back in six months"
  • OB/GYN office calls Jan. 2: Advise second opinion
  • See boob man surgeon Jan. 14: Recommends biopsy
So, it was yesterday. How about that lidocaine they use to deaden your area of interest? First of all, it burns like shit! Second, deaden my ass. I'll go with injure, perhaps even critically. But dead? The loud pops, burning, pulling and pinching were freaking me out. This is in addition to the fact my breast is smooshed (yes, that is the correct term, why?) in the King of Mammogram machines for the entire time.

The weird part is that I've been smelling the lidocaine slowly being expelled from my body for the last 24 hours. And it doesn't smell very good.

This was a stereotactic biopsy, meaning you are awake and no scalpel. The surgeon just (just!?) bores a little hole down (deep down) into your tissue so that he can withdraw a sample of the tissue in question.

I am sore and bruised. I am taking prescriptions for antibiotics and hydrocodone, one I take twice a day and the other, not so often. Guess which? (Only a joke.)

I am back at work today. I get the results next Tuesday. I am scared. Curt is only three.

Saturday, January 26, 2008

My Baby Boy...and bitches

,
Have I mentioned my son drives me crazy?

He is three. He is a boy. He is full of action.

Don't get me wrong. He is very loving. He loves his mommy very much.

Unfortunately, he doesn't tell me.

My son is a late-talker. He is 3.5 years old and just started talking six months ago. What a journey. He has been in EI (Early Intervention for those so fortunate so not to know what this is) since 18 months.

We went to see Dr. Camarata in Nashville last year for a diagnosis -- expressive/receptive language disorder. (He said this was a lot of mumbo-jumbo for "late talker"). EI wanted an autism diagnosis so badly they could taste it. Too bad, bitches.

They called a meeting with me and told me he needed to be tested. However, the bitch, um, woman, who suggested this was the person who had him pinned to the floor during freaking "circle time" the first time I took him to "small group" they suggested. I walked in and saw her. I was so scared for him, I didn't take him out of there. And I regret it to this day. I also didn't rat on her to her superior who was also in the meeting. She actually asked. What a coward I was.

I can promise you if that happened today, I would spill my guts faster than Michael Vick would torture a dog.

My son is finally talking. Thank God. He can work a computer as well as I. He still has a journey ahead of him, but the panic those damn bitches put into my head will never go away. He is not average. He is hard to handle. He is strong-willed. Those character traits will actually help make him successful if he uses them for good instead of evil.

If I sound bitter, I am most certainly am. My son drives me crazy. He is also the shining light of my life.

Thursday, January 24, 2008

Legacies


Heath Ledger.
Dead at 28.
We will never what he was meant to do.

His 2 year old daughter won't know her father beyond his movies.

Speaking of his movies, I so enjoyed "Brokeback Mountain." I guess some (many) homophobes cannot get past the sex scene (my husband watched it with me, but, inexplicitly, had to take an extended bathroom trip during that time). I saw it as a love story, at least for the role Ledger played. In my opinion, he didn't see himself as homosexual, but in love with that particular person, whether they be man, woman, pink or purple. Plus, the scenery in that movie was damn beautiful (I'm talking mountains here, people, mountains!).


Since I am a glutton for all things celebrity, I watched the coverage on his death. In one interview, he said (paraphrased), "I can die now, because I can live through Mathilda (his daughter)," he said. "But I want to live to see her life." I understand that sentiment.

I read long ago that your life could have two legacies: your children and art. It depressed me so much at that time because I had neither. Thank God for my little Curt. However, I personally would add a scholarship endowment as the third option.

Monday, January 21, 2008

Trying again...

Well, today was not a normal day. I drove one hour north to visit one of my dearest (best) friends, Ok my best friend after three years. Wow. What a woman. She IS Bizzyville and you would be lucky to know her, at least online.

Topics discussed today:

Divorce
Taxes
Independent Wealth
Sanity
Medication
Smoking
Eating
Love
Recourse
Passion
and much more.

Bizzy tells me I NEED to do this. I agree. I hope with a 3-YO and a full time job, I can. I hold my hat off to the Bizzy. Go, Bizzy. You are an inspiration to millions, Ok, to hundreds, Ok, to me.