Ladies and Gentlemen, We Have Pee Pee!

Warning -this post is all about toddlers and pee pee and underpants. This may be very boring for the non-toddler mom and non-grandparent segment of readers.

So for a few months I have been starting the agonizing over-analyzing of the right of passage known as potty training. We have had a little stand alone potty for a year or so and for a few months we have also had a small potty topper for the big commode, all in preparation for the potty training to come. From time to time we ask if Jackson wants to sit on the potty and which potty he would like to sit on. And he has occasionally sat on one or the other for about 2.5 seconds with no attempts to actually potty in them going on.

But since he can't go back to pre-school in September in diapers because he will be in the 3's and 4's class. And since I am thinking of signing him up for a kinderdance camp this summer and they surely don't change diapers there, Jackson boy needs to be potty trained this summer. It is that time. And he has shown much more interest and more signs of readiness in the last few weeks. He wants to be changed immediately when he is dirty and often when he is wet. And when he sits on the potty, I feel like he is really trying to go. He says "it isn't coming." So I think he really wants to do it, he just hasn't quite got the motor control down yet. there.

But last night after his bath he wanted to run around naked as a jaybird and we couldn't coax him into his clothes for half an hour. And as he stood naked dancing in the living room I happened to catch him beginning to pee. I said, "Uh huh, Jackson. No peeing on the carpet." And miraculously, he stopped midstream, having only peed a little bit. So I said, "Come on, let's got to the potty, quick!" We ran down the hall and he sat down naked on his little potty and said once again "It isn't coming, mommy." So I turned on the faucet in the sink so he could hear the water and he peed in the potty for the first time ever! And he was so excited and he got lots of praise and since we read the potty book all the time he knew that now he got to pour it into the big potty and flush it like a big boy! Yay!

Today I keep asking if he wants to go pee pee on the potty and he tried once this morning, but couldn't go. But this afternoon, he peed again and was so excited. So am I.

And a little relieved (uh, no pun intended)since he will turn 3 in July and 3 seems to be the 'your kid can't do fun things if he is still in diapers' cut off age. Course my pedi says even 3 1/2 isn't unusual or worrisome for boys to potty train. But I sure am tired of changing diapers and I don't want him to be left out of the 1/2 day camps this summer because of it. I have been a little worried that because he is so small, his motor control is going to make him unable to go and not go when he wants to. And I don't think he will be able to pull up and down his own pants for a while. Some schools require that at 3 they not only be potty trained, but be able to do it all themselves. Jackson is only just now 26 pounds. He is so tiny, I worry about that. But we can work on it and see if his size affects his motor control as much as I worry it will.

Today we went to Target and bought some underpants for the boy. Which was harder than it should have been. We were at Kohl's first and they didn't have any in toddler sizes. They had tons starting at 4T. And even target didn't have much to choose from. Seems that people do the "Pull Up" diaper thing now so much that there isn't much call for toddler underpants. And when people do put underpants on a 3 year old, they are probably not a 26 pound 3 year old like mine so they can use the 4T from the boy section. And I couldn't find any actual training underpants - the old-style cotton padded crotch kind. I guess those are rare in the "Pull up" world now too. My sister handed me down 4 or five pairs of them. Not sure if I will need more. But I guess a trip to Babies R Us will be in order if it turns out we like them and want more. I bet they will have some. But we did get some Sesame Street underpants and Cars underpants. So we shall see what Mr. Jackson thinks about underpants vs. diapers. I hope he loves them and never wants to wear a diaper again.

I am optimistic that potty training will not be as hard as I have heard about. I have not pushed it thus far because all I have read indicates that starting too early does not often equal an early-trained kiddo. They say that if your kid isn't ready, you will spend months of hard work and not be done any sooner than if you simply waited. Meaning you will probably be done at the child's pace whether you start early or not. So I am trying not to stress about it. Course now I feel a clock is ticking somewhere. September is not that far away.

I am also grateful that I so far have not had any competitive, negative experiences with other moms. I read a fellow toddler mom's blog (Hi Julie) and she recently was called out by a mom at a play group for not having her barely 2 year old daughter potty trained. She didn't beat the woman about the head, surprisingly. She handled it with class. But I am grateful that I haven't met that woman or any like her. I might not have been so nice. Especially since I have barely begun training my almost 3 year old and I so do not believe in the soccer mom competitive bullshit. Julie's Stella is fine just the way she is and it is wonderful that this other lady has a daughter that was ready to potty train really early. Doesn't mean shit in the broad scheme of things (pun intended).

In conclusion: Yay Jackson for starting to potty train! Yay Julie and Stella for going at their own pace and not punching the snotty lady at the park.

Amateur Night at the Palace

Friday night's show was a disaster to be remembered. Truly one for the record books. It was like a cosmic force of suck descended over the theatre and could not be lifted. First and most importantly, the air conditioner was out in the auditorium. It had been left to run after Thursday night's pick-up rehearsal and was frozen solid. And no one noticed till 6:45 pm when there was nothing we could do about it. I kick myself, since I worked in the office on Friday during the day and didn't notice that the auditorium was a stifling inferno. The unit for the lobby was fine and in our defense, we don't let the air run in the theatre when no one is working in there. Even if I did notice it was warm in there, I would have assumed the air was off, not broken. So we roasted. We roasted on stage, the band roasted on their backstage perch and the poor audience of 250 roasted in the slow-cooker.

As if that wasn't enough, pretty much immediately upon starting the show, the monitors stopped working. These are the monitors that allow the actors to hear the band and vice versa. So they couldn't hear us and we couldn't hear them. And no amount of poking and prodding, wishing and hoping, would get the monitors back online. They were out for the count. We did the whole show the best we could, often not quite in time with the music.

And weird things kept happening during the show. Not acting things - tech things. Set pieces blown over by the wind in the alley, batons getting stuck together and not raising as they should. This one was big. There is a big black curtain down during the scene when the aggie boys are in their locker room singing and dancing about their impending visit to the whorehouse. Mid song this drop is raised and the set changed to the whorehouse behind them. At the end of the song they 'arrive' at the chicken ranch. So when the curtain got stuck on the facade of the house and no amount of pushing and pulling would get it unstuck, Ron had to raise both the black curtain and the facade. In the meantime, the song ended and the boys were supposed to be there, except the black was still down and no whorehouse awaited them. But they were great, ad-libbing lines, hooting and hollering "We're goin to the whorehouse!" "Where is it?" "We gonna be there soon?"

So finally the curtain is up and the girls all rush in for the 'prom' scene already in progress musically because the band has no idea what is going on. We sort of make it in time for the dance part and get on with the scene. Problem is that the facade of the house, which is supposed to be there when we take the boys up to our rooms, is not there. So there are no windows with shades to close. We still have to go upstairs, but instead of taking a breather and getting a drink of water in the privacy of the room, we are exposed to the audience. So we all go up and get in a 'whorish' pose with our guy and freeze. For at least 3 minutes. While dialogue goes on downstairs and the Melvin P Thorpe crew comes in to raid the chicken ranch. Doesn't sound like a long time to anyone who has never had to freeze on stage. It seemed an eternity.

We managed to pull it off and finish the show. We lost people at intermission. I don't blame them for leaving. The theatre was like an oven, the sound was crap and we were pretty low energy due to the heat. Not up to the Palace standards at all.

But really, we can be proud that as a cast, we didn't miss a step. It was not a good show, but it wasn't line flubs, missed entrances or forgotten lyrics. We actually got a standing ovation. I think the remaining audience knew that the problems were out of our control. And I heard it said several times from audience members that we gave a good performance and they were impressed with how we managed it. Mary Ellen, the director, was grinning from ear to ear by the end of it. She told me that despite the crap, she was so proud of the cast that she couldn't help smiling.

After the Friday from hell, I just knew that Saturday night's show would be the best yet. And it was. The AC was back in working condition and they had a sound guy come in the afternoon to get all the monitors and mic's functioning. We did a 40 minute sound check before the show to get the best possible mix we could. It really sounded great. Downside was that we opened the house for seating 15 minutes late and I was afraid we were going to piss people off from the get go and that could ruin the this-show-must-rock mojo.

It didn't. We had an amazing show. The sound was awesome, the actors excited and full of energy and the audience wonderfully responsive. They clapped along with the aggie dance, hooted and hollered a lot and generally had a great time. It was a blast. And it was so nice to remember how much fun it is to be on stage when the audience is right there with you and you're in your groove. I actually teared up a little bit on stage when I was up in my room and the black curtain came up perfectly on time and the boys were dancing so well and the audience was clapping and I stood in my window as Angel and took it all in.

We are closed in the office on Monday for the holiday. We shall see on Tuesday how many requests for refunds and angry emails we get from Friday's debacle. But I am just so glad that we gave Saturday's crowd their money's worth. Yippee!

BTW, anyone wanting to come see the show, we have three more weekends. Fridays and Saturdays at 7:30 and Sundays at 2:00. Get tickets now, though, we are selling like crazy! Click here to go to the Palace site to buy tickets online or call 512-869-7469.

Heh, if anyone wants to come, that is, after my description of our glorious Friday night. But really, that was such a cosmic fluke, it can't happen again, right? *furiously knocking on wood*

Okay, okay, here is a new post!

After finding myself under assault from friends and family about my break from blogging, I figured I had better update.

WE opened The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas on Friday to a near-capacity audience. We had rehearsed like fiends since you last heard from me and were terrified that the show wasn't ready. And it wasn't. But I am not sure that a few more rehearsals would have helped because we were all so tired and burned out on it that we would probably have stumbled through without much improvement. Instead the curtain went up and we expected the worst. And then a miraculous thing happened. The audience started laughing and responding and it was clear they were there to have a good time and didn't care if the set changes were a bit too long or that we weren't always perfectly with the band. And when they started laughing we remembered that the show is actually funny. We were so burned out that we lost any feel for the jokes and the fun, but the opening night crowd reminded us what we are doing up there and we began to have fun too. Any little bobbles we had were taken in stride; we just kept going. And it was a great show - not great as in perfect, without a hitch - great as in full of fun and energy and invigorating. The boys in the show had worked so hard on their big dance number and the audience loved them and clapped along to the music. It was so much fun. I am so glad to be back up there right in the thick of it.

Saturday and Sunday were good as well, with full houses and lots of laughs. Heh, during a quick change on Saturday, our Narrator, Kris, accidentally left his fly unzipped. It was really noticeable, enough that an audience member noticed and pointed at it. Kris, then worked the zip-up into the song he was singing and the audience loved it. IT worked out so perfectly, implying that the narrator had been 'visiting' the chicken ranch. It worked so well that he did it on purpose Sunday and got the same response. It is the little things, sometimes, that make a show. And it is the sign of a true actor when you can leave the barn door open and make it work for you. Yay, Kris!

The reviewer was there on Friday. He got a good show, but of course the tech could have been better. He might ping us on that. Scene changes were a bit too long, etc. But hopefully he will talk about the good stuff. We shall see how many Poppy's we get on the illustrious Red Poppy scale. 5 is good 1 is bad. We have never gotten less than 3. Not sure if anyone has - they are really nice over there at the Sun. I'll let you know.

I had an appt with my oncologist yesterday. My labs look good and I passed the physical exam again. My WBC was a 3.8 - normal is 4.0 to 11.0. But Dr. George says that is fine for me. We will schedule another Pet and CT scan for June. That will mark 6 months since I finished chemo. I asked about babies. I want to have another baby. Now. Not in a few years. Now. He says it is up to me. My cancer isn't hormone related, so I can't necessarily make it worse by getting pregnant. I can't get a PET scan while pregnant and a CT is risky also. He says that we can do a few chest x-rays and shield the baby and that should be fine to monitor me while pregnant. He also seems to think that is the cancer comes back, we will know it without a PET scan. It will show up in my bloodwork and physical and he doesn't think it would sneak up and be missed. That is a relief. I am thinking that if this June scan is stable and the next one in October is also clean than I will just get off the pill and see if we can't make us another baby.

Dr. George brought up the thought that a lot of cancer patients want to wait a while to see that they have really licked the cancer before having a child because they don't want to have a child they may not be here to raise. But the way I see it, there is no guarantee that the cancer won't come back even if I am clear for ten years. And furthermore, there is no guarantee I won't be hit by a bus tomorrow. I already have a child and a cancer diagnosis. I don't want him to be alone in the world when his parents are gone. I want him to have a sibling and I don't want him to get too much older before we give him one. Yeah, I know I could die of cancer in a year. Or maybe it will never come back. I just can't make that my basis for deciding on another baby.

While I was in the doc's office, Tonya watched Jackson in the lobby and he had a grand old time watching the fish in the huge aquarium. He loves them and talked all about them. Except to his father. I tried to get him to tell Daddy about the fish. We were eating dinner and I said, "Jackson, tell your daddy about the fish you saw today." He said "Fish." David tried to get him to elaborate, "Where were the fish that you saw?" Jackson said, "In the water." That was pretty much the end of trying to include daddy in the fish adventure. He just wasn't going to share anymore fish stories.

I am taking off work tomorrow and Thursday to go to my sister's in Kingwood with my mom. We are going to see Elizabeth Edwards speak in Houston Wed night. According to the web:

Elizabeth Edwards, a breast cancer survivor, talks openly about overcoming life obstacles in a nonpolitical event. Wife of former Presidential hopeful John Edwards, she is the author of Saving Graces. She’s an accomplished attorney, law school professor, and a passionate advocate for children.

Not sure what she will talk about, but it seems like it will be an interesting event. And a nice little road trip with my Mom and Jackson.

I need to do some laundry tonight to make sure my show costume stuff - tights, undies, and other unmentionables - are clean for Friday night. I also am going to wash my wig.

I am wearing my cancer wig in the show as Angel. I love my wig. I love the color and body and cut of it. I put it on and look in the mirror and think, "Oh, there you are." I identify with its femininity in a way I don't identify with my butch do. I am enjoying wearing it in the show. It makes me feel sexy and I can't tell you how important it is to my ability to act sexy. I feel less self-conscious and more vivacious and simply prettier in it. And since I have worn it in the heat and sweat-fest of tech week and opening weekend, it is in dire need of some TLC. When I first got the wig, I babied it so much. I could not have imagined the future of me having to leave it lying on the floor backstage - on top of my shoes- waiting for the next quick change. I would have been horrified to imagine the dust and sweat and other yuck it has been in contact with for the show. But it is holding up well - unlike the cheap, ugly, black wig I wear as a Dogette. After a week of (mis)use in the show, all of them are looking pretty rough. They have to come on and go off very quickly so they end up in a pile with each girl's costume backstage. I don't think they can be washed and fixed. They are $20 wigs meant for Halloween costuming. Luckily they aren't supposed to be pretty.


So tonight is laundry and wig-washing night. And then in the morning I head south to Houston area. See you tomorrow, Jen!

The show and nothing but the show

I have spent about 22 hours at the theatre rehearsing since Friday. Needless to say I am tired and have no time to pee and eat, much less blog. We are getting there, the band sounds great and the costumes look good. We still have some work to do to get this show open. But we have Three more full tech/dress rehearsals to work it out. It is going to be tough, but I am starting to feel like we are going to have a good show.

I bought dance tights to wear under all my lingerie to cover my white and interestingly bruised legs. The elastic waistband sucks ass though and is so tight it cuts into my body and makes things bulge unattractively. But we have a couple of "real" dancers in the show and they both gave me tips. One told me to cut the elastic band in spots all the way around to make it looser. That helped, plus I pull it up to just under my bustline and it smooths my line rather than ruin it. The other tip is a stroke of genius. I have the best shoes for my outfits, but they are open toed slides, both of them. Impossible to keep on my feet onstage when running and/or dancing and coming up and down the staircase to the rooms upstairs. The dance tights just made them slip around even worse. Jessee the dance captain told me to sew a piece of elastic in together at the ends and slip it over the shoe and my foot. So I used the two pieces of flesh-colored elastic left over from when I bought my ballet slippers. It works amazingly well! So I get to wear the impossible, but gorgeous shoes in the show and I can even dance a little in them! Yay for dancers who share their knowledge with others. Thanks Sabrina and Jessee!



My mom is picking Jackson up from school tomorrow and keeping him a few days while David and both have rehearsals. David is directing the next show up at the Palace and needs to get started on blocking. So I get to sleep in Wed and Thurs mornings at least. I will miss Jackson, he is such a good boy lately.

Except the whole throwing up thing. Saturday, he spend the day with his Dad and grandparents. It was hot, he ate lots of junk, didn't drink enough or ate something bad - we aren't sure what the cause was. But I go home at midnight after a very long day and looked in on him before going to my room. He was sleeping peacefully enough, but I thought "he's sick." Not sure what made me think that, but i remember just knowing he was sick. But I went to bed anyway and when I was just about asleep, I heard him coughing. The kind of cough that for Jackson, always proceeds him throwing up. So I jumped up and ran into his room. But I wasn't fast enough. He upchucked all over his pillow and bed and arms and shirt. Just everywhere. So David and I spent the next hour cleaning up and making sure he was done. I was so far past exhausted at that point I just had to laugh. But luckily it was a one-time thing and I slept like the dead until 10:30 Sunday morning. David let me sleep in, wonderful guy that he is.

He also gave me a gorgeous pair of earrings and a heart pendant 'from Jackson' for Mother's day. I love my boys.

Fingernails and Ice Cream and Mullets

Instead of updating and talking about the insane amount of time I am spending at the theatre working on the show, I thought I would come up with something else to talk about.


Like my new fingernails that are making it really tough to type. I broke down and got some really nice falsies. I am desperate to once again stop biting my nails down to nubs and I figured this was worth a shot. The new nails look nice and are really strong. They don't look as nice as when I grow my own nails out; they have that slightly fakey quality that fake nails have. But they are a hell of a lot better than the chewed look I have been sporting since Jackson was born.

Speaking of the small boy, he has developed a new sleeping arrangement. He gets out of his bed in the middle of the night and comes to our room. He climbs up the hope chest at the foot of our bed and flops down near our feet on top of the blanket, like a dog, and goes to sleep. I barely notice, but David can't sleep with the boy all curled up in his foot space. It seems somehow wrong to let your child sleep at the foot of your bed like a pet. So we are trying to discourage the practice, but so far, no luck.

I am going to appear on stage wearing little clothing in under two weeks, but still, David, Jackson and I took a well-deserved family Dairy Queen outing after dinner tonight. Jackson asked me to ride in the backseat with him and we talked about ice cream and what kind we wanted the whole ride. He also asked me if I loved him several times, a habit he picked up from his father. Such a simple thing, a trip to Dairy Queen, but something to treasure none-the-less.

My hair is about an inch from officially being a mullet. Not sure what to do about that. Get a trim, I suppose. Because I can't walk around with a mullet. My ego would run screaming off a cliff if I let that happen.

I don't have all that much to talk about, it seems, without blogging incessantly about the show and how it is and isn't going. So I will stop now and pay attention to my cat.

Is this show gonna get there?

Just a quick blog to say that I am really busy working on the show. Rehearsing 3 hours each night and 7 hours yesterday. My singing voice has been non-existent. Truly, I open my mouth to sing and no sound comes out. But it is getting a little better every day. I have not been even trying to sing during rehearsals. And it hasn't been necessary since we are mainly trying to get the scenes and dances set on the stage. I am terrified about how much remains to be done and how much work it needs. But the others in the cast who do lots of Palace musicals are not worried. I am used to plays that are blocked and off book and nearly ready to go two weeks out. Musicals are different, at least at this theatre. But with everyone knowing what is on the line, they generally come together by opening night. We get costumes Saturday next week and hopefully the band will join us and we can set the music and be ready to go by May 16th.

In other news, Jackson saw me get out the box of blueberry muffin mix yesterday morning and said, "Blueberry muffins? Mama, I love you."

Cat Food, Lost Voice and Undies

This morning I gave Jackson a little bit of coco pebbles cereal to eat. No milk, he eats his cereal dry for some reason. Anyway, this was his first taste of coco pebble goodness and came running over to ask me, "what is this cat food? It's gooood cat food!" Now I have to worry about him getting into the cat bowl and getting a nasty surprise when it doesn't taste at all like coco pebbles.

Last night was our final vocal rehearsal for the show. We cemented some harmonies, I hope, and went through some of the biggest chorus numbers as a group. I have been fighting a little chest cold and probably shouldn't have sung. My voice is totally gone. I have to take it really easy on my voice for the next few days so I have it back by Saturday for our all-day marathon rehearsal. I can't believe we open May 16th and we are only just now starting to run acts and then full show on Sat. Very scary indeed, but I know with some awfully long rehearsals between now and then, we will get there. We have no other choice.

Tonight we run act I and then I will see what kind of shape we are in really. Maybe we are farther along than I think we are.

I don't much care for the Wiggles. Just saying.

Mary Ellen decreed early on in rehearsals that Miss Mona's girls will all have signature colors. This created a frenzy of ladies vying for their favorite colors. And as it became apparent that Mary Ellen would not be assigning these colors as planned, the women chose for themselves. Except me and maybe one or two others. I didn't want to pick randomly; I wanted Mary Ellen to be free to choose the best Ball Gown for me and not have to choose based on color. The undies are supposed to be the same color as the ball gown that has velcro down the back and gets removed in a big reveal onstage. So I didn't pick a color and when all the other girls went ahead and started buying lingerie in 'their' color I started to feel a little left out. But I am not going to go spend $140 at Frederick's for a corset and pair of panties. I don't have the time for that and I certainly can't justify the purchase. The others want to keep their stuff and they are younger and/or don't have kids and cancer bills. So that is fine for them. Plus I don't know what I am supposed to do about fricken colors. I am not interested in costuming myself. Besides, I don't want the underwear before I know what the gown looks like. How do I know what kind of 'support' or cut I will need? Strapless gown? Princess neckline? See what I mean?

So I missed the color/undies boat. But I told Mary Ellen how I felt a couple of days ago and she said she was more than happy to get lingerie for me since she loves to costume me and is dying to get out and find cute stuff. So I left the color choice and purchasing in her hands. I know she already bought some stuff that I will probably see today. I just worry because she didn't seem to care what colors were already 'taken'. I just know she is gonna bring me stuff in a color someone else has already chosen and I will look like an asshole. This is all so very high school and I don't want to play. So I leave it up to her and if there are hurt color feelings I apologize and accept little responsibility. I will wear what I am told - within reason. I don't want to compete and I don't want to spend a bunch of money. Is that so wrong?

Publicity shots

Here I am at the ill-fated relay. I am pretty disappointed that the event was cancelled, but what can you do? It was one helluva storm.

So here is an update on what has been going on lately. All the ho's at the chicken ranch got all dressed up for some publicity shots last week. It was pretty fun to play in the costumes with the girls. Mary Ellen pulled out the theatre's supply of wigs and everyone did their best to find something that wasn't hideous. There are quite a few wigs, but they are all in need of a serious washing and setting. I took my own wig, since I have such a nice one. The other girls has serious wig envy when they thought I had found the best wig in the trunk. But then they realized it was my cancer wig. It did look good and it felt really good to put it on again. So nice to have hair, I instantly felt pretty and sexy and everything Miss Mona's girls should be. This one is me (Angel) with Danielle (the blonde) who plays Ruby Rae.


I really can't wait until I have good hair again. It sure makes a difference in the way I feel. I am now in the Elvis sideburns muttonchop phase of hair growth which is really attractive. I pretty much hate it and don't anticipate that changing any time soon.

Here is a shot of all the girls, Mona and the Sherrif.


Saturday we took Jackson to the Red Poppy Festival and parade in Georgetown. I had rehearsal at 11:30 and David was holding auditions for his show at 1:00, so we decided to head in early and check it out. Jackson enjoyed the parade, but was a little confused by the concept. When the marching band came into view he was excited and then they got to us and kept going. He kept asking "where are they going?" Very cute. Of course our camera ran out of juice before we got any good pics. Sorry.

Relay for Suck

I got my speeches, one for the survivors dinner and one for the fight back ceremony, all ready and felt pretty good about them both. I got into the red dress which zipped and looked fabulous. Andrea brought me her Miss Georgetown crown which fit nicely on my head and clipped into my short hair securely. Because the relay is an all night event spent walking the track, I wore my high heeled black and white sneakers with black and white striped stockings. Andrea pinned her crown-shaped sash pin on me to hold my Miss Chemo sash into place. It was awesome.

We got there to find the field full of tents and booths and people everywhere ready to have a good time. They opened the relay with a prayer and the national anthem and a couple of survivors spoke. They announced the survivor lap would begin in a few minutes time and then told us that after the survivor lap everyone had to go home because there were tornadoes on the ground in the area and were heading our way.

So David and I walked the survivor lap with everyone and then we picked up our shit and went home. Sigh. What a huge let-down after spending the whole day filled with nervous energy and excitement for the relay and getting to speak. I imagine the folks who spent months planning this and hours setting it up are feeling even more crappy right now. Boo.

On the way out Elaine grabbed a plate full of bbq meat they were going to serve at the ill-fated survivors dinner. So we at least got to eat a little. But I wonder what they are going to do with all that food. Very frustrating!

Thanks to everyone who contributed, I raised $1005 for the American Cancer Society.

And we didn't get hit by a tornado.

That is all the silver lining I can take right now.

Boo.

Suck.

Sorry Dad

I haven't blogged much this week and my Dad called to complain. Says he thinks there is something wrong when I don't check in all the time. So I'd better post to let everyone know that I am doing well.

I stopped by the costume shop last weekend and tried on the red gown I want to wear to the Relay for Life on Friday. And to my surprise, it zipped. I haven't really lost weight according to the scale, but I think I have become a bit leaner since rehearsals started. The dress is still very tight through my ribcage, so Ronni is going to see if she can't ooch me and inch or so out of the zipper. Ooch. I like saying that. Ooch...

I took Jackson to get his hair cut today at Penny's. He did so well. He sat in the chair and let them put the cape on him. The lady who did the cutting has a two-year-old herself so was wonderful in talking to him and working with him. He wiggled too much, but held still when it really counted and even let her use the clippers around his ears. I really wanted to get it done today since he gets his picture take tomorrow at school and I didn't want to immortalize his hair in his eyes.

I don't really feel like blogging right now. I feel like having some ice cream. So that is what I am going to do. (Ronni, you workin on that dress?)

Time Filler

Only requirement: one word answers.
1. Where is your mobile phone? Here
2. Your significant other? Significant
3. Your hair? Short
4. Your mother? strong
5. Your father? giving
6. Your favorite thing? family
7. Your dream last night? huh?
8. Your favorite drink? margarita
9. Your dream/goal? security
10. The room you're in? den
11. Your ex? expecting
12. Your fear? failure
13. Where do you want to be in 6 years? Alive
14. Where were you last night? rehearsal
15. What you're not? tall
16. Muffins? lemon
17. One of your wish list items? Thing
18. Where you grew up? Andice
19. The last thing you did? read
20. What are you wearing? capris
21. Your TV? awesome
22. Your pets? cats
23. Your computer? lap
24. Your life? full
25. Your mood? content
26. Missing someone? sure
27. Your car? washed
28. Something you're not wearing? bra
29. Favorite Store? Target
30. Your summer? healthy
31. Like someone? sure
32. Your favorite color? red
33. When is the last time you laughed? recently
34. Last time you cried? today

Great News

I sent an email to the Round Rock Relay for Life organizers introducing myself as the Chemo Queen and asking if they were interested in adding me as a speaker. The lady in charge checked out my blog and story and called me to enthusiastically invite me to speak both at the Survivor Dinner and again later on the field! She said they were really excited about showing how you can get through this and keep going and living and continuing to laugh at it all, even when things suck and the Chemo Queen fits right into that.

She said there may be as many as 2000 people at the main event. That makes me nervous as hell, but I asked for it and now I have to deliver. Ronni at A Cut Above Costumes is going to see if we can't get me into the red dress I wanted to wear the last time I talked. If I can get into that dress, I could give a speech to the United Nations if I had to. So wish me luck. Both with the dress and the speechifying.

Relay for Life

I signed up for the Relay for Life today. This is an all-night American Cancer Society fundraiser event held all over the country. Mine is next Friday 4/25 at the High School near my house. People walk the track all night in shifts and they have live bands and food and movies and a tent city and all kinds of stuff. I doubt I will take a tent and stay all night. I at least I want to go to the opening ceremonies and the survivor lap and remembrance ceremony. I have a kid at home and a Whorehouse rehearsal the next morning so staying out all night is probably not a good idea. Maybe I can stay till midnight or something. If anyone wants to go with me, let me know. Unless I get a sitter David has to stay home...

And if you are feeling charitable and want to sponsor me, you can go to my page and donate online. Pretty worthy cause, I think.

I will probably bawl like a baby during the luminaria ceremony. You can buy a luminaria in honor of someone. (Click the link if you want to do so) This is what the relay site has to say about it:

"For many people who attend Relay For Life®, one of the most moving parts of the event is the Ceremony of Hope. As the light dims over campsites and team members complete laps, the night is brightened by the glow of lighted bags called luminaria, each of which has a special meaning. Some luminaria celebrate the survivorship of people who have battled cancer and lived to tell the tale. Many commemorate the lives of those who have been lost to this disease. All represent a person who has been profoundly affected by cancer and the family and friends who continue to be touched by that experience."

Are you tearing up a little bit reading that? If not you are a cold-hearted bastard. Kidding, I just really wanted to say that.

Anyway...I decided to go next Friday and celebrate cancer...or whatever. Oh, and the best thing is they encourage costumes and even give an award for the best one! So I will probably go as the Chemo Queen. Or a Pirate. Not sure yet.

Editorial in the Statesman

I rewrote my 'Dear Polygamists' blog and submitted it to the Statesman editorial board and they accepted it for their online edition! Very cool. Of course it makes me a little nervous to have my opinion out there for everyone to read, disagree with and comment on. But since I have been openly blogging about my life, cancer treatment, trials and tribulations, I guess this isn't much different. They posted my blog address at the end so I may get a few visitors that way.

So welcome, anyone who found me through the Statesman. I don't always write ranting posts about politics, but I do tend to have strong opinions.

*****

Best little Whorehouse rehearsals are going pretty well. The director told me this morning that, even though I don't consider myself a singer and I still claim that I am not a dancer, the vocal director and choreographer were arguing over whether I would sing in some numbers or dance in them. Apparently they both want me. Very cool to get such nice feedback, but I still doubt my ability to tap dance. And the tap number is also a lights-out flashlight dance. So I have to rub my belly and pat my head at the same time basically. And the flashlight will serve as a beacon; a beacon of suck held tightly in my both hands. "Look at me everyone! Watch as I screw up the choreography!" The scenarios I imagine are all pretty humiliating, but in the end I suspect I will learn it and perform passably both as a whore in the Chicken Ranch and as a Melvin P. Thorpe Doggette. As long as I manage the two very quick costume changes they require of me.

Jackson, the two-year-old, has been particularly difficult lately. He is really cranky and hard to please when he is sick, as he was all weekend. And I found myself at the end of my patience this morning when he crunched up his frosted flakes all over the carpet in the living room. My mom had been planning to pick him up from school today and keep him for the afternoon, so I threw in some extra diapers and a change of clothes and asked her to keep him over night. I found myself yelling at him this morning with less and less reason. Any annoying two-year-old quirk, like demanding to wear his belt even though his pants have no belt loops, put me over the edge and there I was yelling at him again. So it is best I have a break. Good thing my mom lives near enough to rescue him.

Counts and Taps

Jackson is sick. Running a pretty good fever. I always know he is sick when he sits still for any measure of time. Small boy not running a mile a minute and I usually know to check for a fever. I needed to get my labs done today and had a few things I needed to do at work, so I asked David if he could come home to be with the boy. Plus it is Friday and I figured he could use the reprieve from afternoon traffic. So he came home at noon and I went to get my brood draw.

Aaaannnnddd...my counts are good. WBC is 4.0 - low end of normal. But normal. I told all the folks at the Cancer Center about the show and they all planned right then and there to come see it as a group on May 30th. Even Dr. Bunch, who isn't even my doctor, though she saw me twice in the hospital, is coming. Very cool.

Rehearsals are going well. Though we are going a bit slower than makes me comfortable. I am afraid that taking our time now will lead to the time crunch marathon rehearsals later. But with a big show that seems to be inevitable and I have seen my share of shows come together at the last minute. I would just prefer to be right on pace.

The dancing has been interesting. Interesting because the choreographer seems to disagree with my assessment that my dancing is hopeless. She has put me in the Doggette number which has tap, sexy stuff and a flashlight dance yet to be choreographed. She chose six girls for the dance line and I was one of them. Ok, then. Our dance captain, Jessie, is incredibly talented and promises to help me learn the tap. She is a great teacher, really knows how to break down each step. She says she has taught harder choreography to 4-year-olds so she is sure she can teach me this stuff. Course 4-year-olds don't have a lifetime full of 'I can't dance' voices screaming in their heads so I am not sure that is really a comfort. I'll keep you posted on my progress. I may need to go tap shoe shopping as I am the only one in the group that doesn't have them. But then again, perhaps not putting taps on my shoes would make my mistakes less audible...hmmm.

Dear Polygamists

I wanted to write to say that I do feel some measure of sadness that your families in Texas are being broken up. I am sure the tears and grief you felt as the children were taken and your temple entered by police officers was quite real. I wanted to offer you some advice for the future of your religious marital policies.

I don't believe I am alone in saying that I don't care if you choose to practice plural marriage. I honestly feel that how two, or three, or four consenting adults choose to live is up to you and the rest of us have no right to tell you to stop.

The key words in that statement is 'consenting adults'. It is because you do not limit your 'marriages' to fully consenting, fully grown adults that you have law enforcement and social services tearing apart your homes and families. What you are doing when you 'marry' a 13 year-old girl to a 40-something man is making what you call a family into a crime. You make it all about sex and not at all about your religion. Those of us in the outside world will never and can never recognize your choice of lifestyle as legitimate as long as our picture of you is of lecherous old men fucking little girls in the temple and calling it good and right.

And when you toss aside your young men with little reason or provocation so more of your 40-somethings can have more of your teen girls without competition, you make yourselves into pathetic sex-driven monsters.

And I do want to say one last thing. Stop having children you can't afford to raise without government assistance. When you have 20 plus children and 4 wives who are all on food stamps you have made your lifestyle choice my burden and that isn't fair or right.

To sum up:

1. Marry other consenting adults only, no one will care.

2. Don't force little girls to marry and bear children. Ceremonially having sex with them inside your church is simply a sick fantasy that must stop.

3. Do not exile your excess young men. It makes you look pathetic.

4. Have only as many children as you can afford to raise. Birth control is a necessity.

Hussy Dancing and Housework

I just got home from dance rehearsal. It went pretty well. We learned some 'hussy' dancing tonight and as I suspected, I am ok at this. From watching the mirror while we danced I learned an interesting personal fact. I discovered that I lead with my abdomen and if I simply pull my abs in and under, I look much, much better. Sounds easier that it is to do because the second I take my concentration elsewhere, there I go awkwardly leading with my belly again. I mentioned this to Lisa, the choreographer, and she told me that lots of women with young children do this regularly. And that makes sense if you imagine walking with a big pregnant belly. It starts there and continues with us carrying the kid on one hip, abs forward. Well, this might work well to balance the belly and/or the kid, but it sure doesn't look right for dancing. Especially hussy dancing. So that is my goal; fix my posture so I keep my abs pulled in and stand up strait. And learn to dance. Easy right?

So I totally forgot to talk about the most interesting part of my dinner at Benihana on Saturday. I ate my meal, including the rice, with chop sticks. Never before have I had interest in the chopsticks at an oriental restaurant. I always kind of chuckle a little, admire the couple of people using them and immediately head for the fork. But this time, I decided to try it and though it was not easy, I refrained from using the fork the entire meal. Why the change? I don't know. Maybe I have a need to try new things lately, having decided to be in a musical and learn to dance a little. Maybe I was drinking the fabulous margarita they served me and I felt a little adventurous. I don't know, but I felt like eating with the chopsticks and I did. I am impressed with me, aren't you?

Yesterday was another day of getting things done. Grocery store, lawn mowing and house work. In the midst of doing my third load of laundry, I got that little post-chemo giddiness I get occasionally when I realize I have been working for hours and can still (a) breathe, (b) bend down for something and stand back up without support and (c) do a little I'm not sick dance between loads. Such an accomplishment it seems to be able to clean my own damned house. I'm sure the fun will fade soon enough.

In fact, I have a sink full of dishes since I had to run out after dinner to head to rehearsal. So I guess I better get to it.

Dinner and Del Castillo

Dance rehearsal today went better. I at least had more appropriate shoes on for the tap stuff. And I think I can get it - I can do all the steps, just not at the speed of the music yet. But I think with practice I will get it. However, I don't believe that high kicks are in my future and you know what? I am ok with that.

We had dinner at Benihana tonight with David's folks and their friends for his mom's birthday. It was really good, pretty much what Tokyo Steakhouse does, just a little more expensive. We'll stick with Tokyo Steakhouse since it is in Round Rock and as good or better on everything. But we ate too much and had fun. And it was nice to have dinner out without a two-year-old to care for.

Mary came and picked up Jackson at about 4:30 and took him with her to the Nutty Brown Cafe for dinner and the Del Castillo early show. Mary is friends with the base player and they had VIP Passes and got to hang out with the band. Apparently Jackson became a sideshow of his own because of his amazing dancing ability. Mary claims that he was dancing from the minute the band started to the last song and he was even breakdancing a little. She says a crowd formed around him to watch him. Mary took pictures and I will post some when I get them. My kid is so much cooler than his mom already - out with Del Castillo on a Saturday night at two-years-old. They are playing an early show next Saturday at Austin City Hall. Perhaps we could go with Jackson and he could introduce us to the band.

Small Set-back

Sometimes it is just so hard to act normal. By normal I mean, not a cancer patient(or survivor or whatever). I have little setbacks once in a while. Something will set me off and I have a mini breakdown.

Tonight it was my ears. My ears get bright red when I am busy, or hot or sometimes for no reason at all. Bright, neon red. In the olden days, the BC days, I would simply hide them in my hair.

This evening before rehearsal I was sewing the elastic on my new ballet shoes and was sitting under the dining room light. It was bright and hot and my ears turned red. When I went in to get ready for rehearsal I noticed and realized that with my hair like this I have nothing to hide my red ears behind. They are just right out there for everyone to see. And my heart beat a little faster and it hit me just how much of an armor my hair was to me. It covered me like a blanket and I could hide behind it. It protected me somehow deep in the recesses of my psyche. I feel so vulnerable and exposed with this short, short hair. I hate it. So there I was with red ears and I had no place to hide and I had a little panic attack. I found myself driving to rehearsal sobbing all of the sudden, like I had just lost my hair yesterday.

"What is wrong with me?" I thought. "Why am I freaking out?" I don't have an answer. I just lost it for a few minutes. When I got there, I sat in my car for a few minutes trying to gather myself and make sure I didn't look like an over-emotional idiot for walking into rehearsal looking like I had been crying. I mean, what was I supposed to say when someone asked me what was wrong? "Oh, I lost my hair 8 months ago and my ears are red and I am having an identity crisis." Somebody haul this girl off to the crazy farm, why don'tcha?

I managed to pull myself together and go in and participate in the rehearsal. But it was really hard. Not just because I am such a newby at all this and am terrified I may have bitten off too much with this show. But because there is this floor-to-ceiling mirror in the room and I had to watch my sucky dancing and red ears for two hours. And I felt like an outsider. A dancing outsider. I bought new ballet slippers yesterday because the ones I had been using were too big. I couldn't feel the floor with them on and they were hindering my balance, especially. So I bought some that fit and brought them to rehearsal only to find out we were mostly doing tap stuff and ballet slippers are a hindrance to that type of dancing. My character shoes would have been much better but I didn't have them with me. Several of the other girls are experienced dancers and pulled out their tap shoes and put them on and there I am the schmuck in the ballet slippers trying to learn tap combinations. Geez. I just felt like I couldn't win.

And we are still learning things that I don't expect to be performing in the show. The dance we are learning is for the guys Aggie football team number and the girls are just doing it for conditioning and to practice basics. The tap stuff is for the girls too, but mostly for the girls that will be doubling as the Angelettes (Aggie drillteam) and they will be doing a kickline. I say they, because there is no way I, who can not even kick waist high, will be a part of that number. And the tap is for the Doggettes who will be doing a tap number. And since I know I am most likely not going to be doing it in the show it is hard for me to get invested in learning something that is hard for me and makes me feel like a clumsy idiot in the wrong damned shoes. I lost my spirit to learn tonight. I did what I could but didn't have the heart to do more than half-assedly fake anything I found difficult, which was most of it.

Last night's vocal rehearsal, on the other hand, went well. We learned three songs and the harmonies are going to sound so awesome. My solo lines are well-placed in my voice and with a little practice I should be able to do them justice. The vocal director is so knowledgeable and easy to sing for. She made us feel relaxed which made it easier to learn. It was a good time and I look forward to more time with the music.

And the acting. I'd love to skip all the hard stuff I am bad at and get to the stuff I am good at. Let's sing and act. Sounds like fun to me!

I am making an effort to talk about some good things now because I know I am too hard on myself and I don't want to let myself wallow in the fact that I had a little emotional setback. I need to get over it and keep going.

When I took Jackson to school this morning one of his classmates was arriving at the same time. Her name is Emma and when she saw Jackson she came rushing over and they hugged and said hi. So cute. Course Jackson is a tiny guy and his head fit nicely on her chest for the hugs. Then Emma took him by the hand and lead him into the building. She kept saying 'I have my Jackson' and he kept turning to me and saying 'she holding my hand, mommy!' Such an awesome moment. I wish I'd had my camera.

I am really enjoying work lately because I am digging in and taking over duties to streamline the way we do things. This week I have been working on setting up an account with an office supply delivery company so that when we need things we order them and they are delivered instead of someone having to run to office depot or Sam's. So a new duty of mine will be a bi-weekly inventory to take stock of what we need in the office as well as toilet paper and coffee and hand soap, etc. This is blogworthy because when I started at the Palace almost 2 1/2 years ago it was a 3-man operation. Sonja did the box office, Mary Ellen produced the shows and Russ got the supplies. Now that we are growing and changing so much, there is no reason not to lighten some of the little administrative duties of these three and simply report to them as board members. So that is my goal. Figure out what needs done and the best way to do it. And not step on any toes in the process. If Russ, for example, wanted to continue going to Sam's to buy hand soap, by all means...but if he'd rather spend his time overseeing the renovation of the tin building...you get the picture.

So work is good. I love working in the theatre and making things work better. Something so normal is just so precious to me. I love being back.

Sleep is a precious thing

I have a little boy who can get out of his bed when he wants to. He has taken to visiting me in the wee hours. Every time he comes in he announces 'Mama, I get out my bed.' This makes me smile even at 2:00 in the morning. I have been lately letting him get in bed with me for a little while till he wants back in his bed, which is not usually more than 15 minutes or so.

I am not sure whether to try to end this behavior or not. I am of two minds. I much prefer this sleep disturbance to the alternative of him waking up and yelling for me to come in for 20 minutes till I wake up enough to drag myself into his room. And I will admit to being what I call a nightmare survivor. For as long as I can remember, I have always had vivid and real nightmares that wake me up and terrify me. Even now I wake David up several times a months with a nightmare. As a child I used to regularly go and get in bed with Daddy when I had a nightmare. If I stayed in my own bed and tried to go back to sleep, the nightmare would only return. I remember being 8 or 10 years old standing outside my parent's bedroom wanting to go in and telling myself I was too old for that and to go back to my own bed. Which I did. So now I have a hard time denying my son if he wants to get in with me for a few minutes for whatever reason. Sometimes you just need your mom or dad. Especially at 2:00 in the morning.

On the other hand, he also comes in regularly at about 6:00 or 6:20 a.m., almost the time David gets up for work. Jackson seems to know that it is almost morning and he comes to wait anxiously for his Daddy to get up. This bothers the hell out of both of us cause the last precious hour (or half hour) of sleep is golden and should not be ruined by a toddler who can't wait another minute for the day to begin. It is kinda funny, or it would be if I weren't trying desperately to sleep while it was going on. He is like a spring when he lays in bed with us, all taut and poised, ready to jump up at his Daddy's slightest move in the bed. When David does get up, so does the toddler. He springs up in the bed and announces, "I'm done sleeping!" This morning I made him stay in bed with me until we could hear that David was out of the shower. That wasn't easy to do. He kept asking me, "Is Daddy out the shower yet? Is he done yet." I was so amazingly tired this morning and this wasn't remotely funny.

Jackson also has been showing some sleep deprived behaviors the last few days. He isn't getting to sleep early enough at night, waking a few times each night and getting up too early. And then not napping long enough, or like today, running out of energy before the end of his preschool day. He was excited as hell to get there this morning and ran inside happily. He ate his lunch and behaved well, but apparently had his first paci meltdown at school. He has not asked for it at school before today. It has just been a fact that the paci does not go to school with him and he is fine with handing it over in the car. But he was tired today when I picked him up.

Cobby, the volunteer at work today, and I laughed a bit comparing the tired toddler to a belligerent drunk. Jackson was stumbling around, bleary-eyed, demanding, not really knowing what he wanted but pissed at you for not giving it to him. The little drunk boy was so tired, but was super-resistant to napping. Of course the timing was off. Nap time is generally between 12:30 and 1:00 and since school is over at 1:00, his nap is too late. But I got him somewhat appeased enough to nap. He was still sleeping at 4:15 and I had to wake him up to go home.

It was clear he wasn't done sleeping and his behavior showed it. He started right back in with the belligerent behavior. He demanded candy which I didn't have. I offered him a ginger snap and he scoffed at it and threw a small toy on the floor. Then when I put the cookies away he demanded one. I told him I'd give him a cookie if he picked up his toy and said please. He told me "No please!" and picked up his toy only to throw it on the floor again with a 'what're you gonna do about it' look. What did I do? I put the cookies away, gathered up a crying, kicking, screaming toddler and went home, dragging the child through the theatre where they were working on set, through a busy parking lot where the people either smiled at us or acted like I was beating the kid and to the car where I calmly (I am rather proud of how calmly) forced the struggling kid into his car seat. I explained what he had done wrong and why he didn't get a cookie and that he could try again later. I wanted to pull my hairs out it was so frustrating, but I could clearly see how tired he was and that this was fueling his tantrum.

An early bedtime was called for and we got him into his bed at 7:15, but I wouldn't say he was sleeping till 8:15 or 8:30ish. I think in general he needs to be in bed earlier. And I wonder if I need to pick him up from school early. Can he just not handle being up til 1:30? I dunno.

I don't know whether or how to curtail his visits to my room at night and how to and whether to get him to sleep longer in the morning. his behavior is so obviously tied to hunger and tiredness that I simply can't ignore the sleep factor in the ease of living with a toddler. He can be the most wonderful kid to be around, but if he is tired or hungry or both, forget it.

I do of course think he is a genius. Two things today make me say so. The first is his drawing ability. He is definitely left handed and he loves to color and draw. He has been working on drawing a car and today he did pretty darn well. He drew two circles for wheels which were almost the same size and then he drew an oblong shape on the wheels for the car. It really looked like a car! He brought it over and showed us all and then drew another one for us. What a talent, I tell you.

The other act of genius was when I was reading him his bedtime books. He likes a book that has pictures of babies dressed up in bug costumes; lady bugs, caterpillars, dragonflies, etc. He loves the butterfly picture and gets excited by it every night. Tonight he asked me what kind of butterfly I wanted which is his code for 'mommy, ask me what kind of butterfly I want.' He pointed to the picture of the small boy in the butterfly costume and said he wanted 'butterfly on his back' - the wings - so he could 'fly, fly, fly, everywhere, all outside.' And he acted out flying with his hand and asked me to buy him a butterfly. He thinks if he wears the costume he could fly like a butterfly. And although we all know the impossibility of this thought, my 2-year-old is a genius for putting it together the way he did. So says Mama.

Last night was dance rehearsal number two and I continue to suck, but not quite as bad as last time. I don't think there is much hope of me learning turns - pirouettes, and the like. The whole concept of 'spotting' so you don't get dizzy is not difficult to recognize, but is not actually easy to do. I did remember a number of combinations that were taught on Saturday, so that was good. I think I will do well enough in the end, but I can tell it is going to take a lot of work. And hopefully that work will result in a more toned physique to show off on the Palace Stage in May.

On that note, I took a SmartOnes lunch to work today. Larry had a Healthy Choice meal with him. After we both ate our health-conscious meals and were sitting in the office working on separate things, I couldn't ignore the fact that my stomach was still growling. I sighed and said, "Larry, I'm fricken hungry! I may have to break into the snack bar." Without missing a beat he replied, "I'll split a candy bar with you." So alas, the two Palace workers tore into a Twix bar and giggled the whole time.

Dancing, weddings and the Hokey Pokey

Dance rehearsal today was ok. The choreographer is good at teaching those of us who know very little how to do the basics. My lack of training is very apparent, as is my lack of natural ability. I don't think I am hopeless. Just awkward. And I may need a few private dance classes to get what I need to get. Luckily, my part is heavy acting and vocal, but my character doesn't necessarily have to dance in every number. So I have a few scenes doing what I am good at - acting - and it is pretty positive I won't be a featured dancer. And I am ok with that. I'd rather be a featured actor.

The girls that can dance really make it look easy. I admire them. I wish I naturally could make my body look the way theirs do. I don't know why I don't have that kind of body awareness. I just don't. Without the mirrored walls, I simply don't have any idea what my body looks like while I am trying to move it around. I hear all the time that it is just a matter of practice and experience, but I don't think so. I don't discount practice in bettering technique, but I think there is a case to be made for natural ability. I am an actor. I know this. What I do is mostly instinct and observation; knowing how people talk and act when they feel certain ways and being able to recreate that as naturally as possible. This is something I have always been able to do with very little teaching needed. I can train my voice and learn about scripts and breathing and other little things to make me better, but I believe I am an actor because I was made this way, in the same way that I was not made a dancer. I am not saying I can't get any better, but it isn't my inborn ability and it never will be.

For instance, there is a girl in the show that doesn't have a lot of dance training. But she does have a lot of dance experience in theatre. And she is good. Her body moves beautifully and she is lovely to watch. But the choreographer and dance captain correct her often on technique, always tweaking this and that and posture and other little things. Seems to me that she is constantly being corrected. I believe this is because what she is is a natural dancer with inborn ability, but hasn't been drilled and trained into ballet technique. And it must drive 'real' dancers crazy that she is so close, but just not exactly right. So they choose to correct her tiny mistakes and let me fall all over myself with little comment. Of course I am glad they don't comment on how obviously unschooled and slowly learning I am. They are probably making mental note that this particular working girl should be leaning seductively on a banister while the other girls dance. And I am so ok with that. I can give sexy eyes like nobody's business, but please don't ask me to can-can.

Rehearsal ended at 2:00 and I went home to quickly eat, change and head to Austin for a wedding. Andrea's brother got married at 4:00 this afternoon and it was fun. Very irreverent. Bridesmaids wore their own choice of black dress and colorful shoes. And the groomsmen (and bridesmen) wore whatever they wanted under their jackets: bright t-shirts, tux t-shirts, some funky jacket with furry arms. One even wore a head to toe orange tux, complete with patent leather orange shoes and tophat. Very awesome. The vows included 'to love honor and cherish in sickness and in health, for richer and poorer and on all federal holidays.' The rings were exchanged to vows of 'take this off at your own peril.' Pretty awesome. Then the pizza arrived. Yup. The wedding was catered by Austin's Pizza. And there were many kegs to be drunk. I had a couple of glasses of wine and stuck around through the bride and groom's first dance - which was to the Hokey Pokey. Then I hit the road and came home in time to read the book about the potty to Jackson before bedtime.

So it has been a pretty good day. Definitely ready for a good night's sleep. Went to bed late last night, then is stormed a little and scared Jackson. He came to our room at 2:00 in the morning saying, 'It's okay mama, it's only rain, there's nothing to be afraid." Course it sounded so much cuter. 'nuffin to be afwaid' is pretty damned cute even at 2:00 in the morning. I love that boy. But we didn't sleep much last night. And then wine. After a 4 hour dance rehearsal. I am beat.

I love having energy!

I have been busy this week, working and taking care of Jackson and shopping and cleaning and cooking.

Today, I got in the mail some Mary Kay stuff I ordered, which included a roll-up/hanging bag that can hold pretty much all my makeup and stuff, at least all the stuff I use regularly. I actually have a lot of make-up that I rarely use but don't want to part with. I always think I might need it in a show. And sometimes I do. But since I got this new bag and have been acquiring new skin care and make-up stuff the last year or so, I figured I should really go through it all and get rid of things I don't use and can't imagine needing in a show. And any make-up I have had since high school had to go. I am sometimes a bit of a hoarder and have been systematically going through my house throwing things out for a month or two. I did my closet a few weeks ago and tonight I did my cabinets in the bathroom. I had stuff in there that expired seven years ago! Bottles of peroxide and 10 year-old hand lotion I have never liked but wouldn't chuck. Not anymore though, I just had a grand old time chucking crap and reorganizing things so I can actually use them. It is so nice to have the energy to take care of Jackson, work half-day at the Palace and come home to spend 4 1/2 hours working on my bathroom. Awesome.

Here is a quandary for you all. If your son is enjoying himself playing on the floor amidst all the crap you have pulled out of the cabinets and becomes fixated on a tampax and wants to carry one around like a toy, is it ok to let him? Is this going to permanently scar him because the 'toy' he chose to take to bed with him tonight was the fascinating individually-wrapped tampon? I hope not.

Oh, good news, the cancer center called to let me know that my PET scan showed no evidence of Lymphoma. So I am still all clear. I asked if they still want me to schedule a CT scan since they couldn't do it the same day. They are going to get back to me next week when Dr. George gets back in the office. So maybe I'll get a CT too, or maybe the insurance company wins and they decide not to do one. Is that their master plan, those sneaky bastards at Aetna? Maybe so.

One of the new Mary Kay products I got today was their microdermabrasion 2 step system. They say it has the same professional grade exfoliating crystals used by dermatologists. I don't know about that, but I do know that I tried it tonight and my face now feels like a baby's butt. The difference is amazing and I am sold on it already. I really should give in and sell the stuff as much schilling as I do for them on my blog. At least I know how to work the system so I don't pay full price for everything.

Tomorrow is the first dance rehearsal for Whorehouse. 10a-2p. Four hours. Of dancing. I sure hope my energy holds up and that I don't completely embarrass myself. I should probably go to bed now.

Interesting News

So the mole I just had removed from my back tested positive for 'atypical cells'. Not cancer, but pre-cancer; cells that had begun to mutate. I don't have to do anything about it right now because the test shows that they removed all the atypical cells. We got it before there was any big deal. I just have to go back in three months to follow up. I figure I will do a serious mole check and make sure if I have any more that I get them removed soon.

S everybody, check your body! If you have moles that aren't perfect circles, that are as big or bigger than a pencil eraser, or have changed size or shape in your memory of them, go get 'em removed. Skin cancer requires chemo and I assure you, you don't want to do it if you don't have to.

I sure as hell am not going to be taken out by a fricken mole after all I have been through. Sheesh.

Lots of Stuff

It has been a busy several days. Saturday David, Jackson and I packed up and headed to Harker Heights to visit the In-Laws. Jackson got quality time with his Omi and Grandpa and his Uncle Kris, whom he adores.

We had a huge dinner and I ate way too much and had a couple of margaritas and got kinda talky (sorry guys). I had a really good time and Susanne, of course, gave us generous Easter bags with clothes and candy. She knows I love chocolate from Germany. Milka is the brand. It is infinitely better than a Hershey bar. It is richer and tastier and creamier and I can eat two or three squares a night and make a bar last for weeks. It is somewhat hard to find. Susanne found some at World Market. Which is funny because though it is Made in Germany and certainly has been around since my Husband was a kid in Germany, it is distributed by Kraft Foods out of Illinois. Says so right on the back. Anyway, thanks Susanne, I love the chocolate and new jammies.

Sunday morning, Jackson and I got up and headed to Santa Anna to visit my Dad. My Uncle Dan and his family were at Dad's visiting for a few days. It was kind of a trip to see their oldest son, who I held as a day-old baby. He's 15 now and such a young man. When he was born, my Dad took my picture holding him in the hospital and later painted an oil painting from the photo. So Kenny got to see a painting of me holding him when I was just about his age. That makes me officially old.

Visiting Dan and Kate and their boys was a treat. I haven't seen them in so long. Kate is stricken with MS and has lost a lot of motion in her legs and must use a cane to walk and a wheelchair for anything more than a few feet. Her husband and 3 sons help her a great deal and she gets by pretty well. I don't really know what to say about it other than it really sucks ass that there aren't more treatments that could stop the degeneration. Stem Cell treatments look promising, but the USA is not a leader in such research, go figure. I just know that I admire the hell out of Kate for her strength and ability to live her life with love and humor. But having been in a life or death struggle myself, I know that you just do it and get through and enjoy everything you can. There simply isn't another choice, not for me and not for so many people living with disease and illness. You just say "It's not going to effin win" and you keep going.

Jackson had a ball playing with the boys, who are 11, 13 and 15. They are outdoors boys who like nothing more than a few balls to throw or kick around. And having come from up north, they really took advantage of the nice weather to be outside as much as they could. Jackson just ran around after them and kicked his own little ball. They were really good to him and were careful to watch out and not run him over. I forgot my camera like an idiot so don't have any pictures of them running around.

Yesterday, Mary Ellen finally posted the cast list for The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas. I am going to be Angel, one of Mona's working girls at the 'chicken ranch'. I am so excited! It is a good part. A few decent acting scenes and several solos in at least one song. And the best part is that several good friends and tons of other cool people are also going to be in it. My best friend, Andrea, got a fabulous part and gets to sing the best song in the show! I am so excited to be in a show with her again. It has been awhile. Years, in fact. The read-thru is tomorrow night and I am very excited. Did I already say that? Yup, I'm excited.

I can't believe how affectionate my son has become. This is the baby who at 5 months old couldn't stand to be held when he was tired; who would only sleep in your arms when he was burning up with fever and feeling terrible. He has not been a lovey little guy and I learned to accept that I didn't have a cuddler.

Well, now that he is four months shy of turning three, he has decided that he loves his mother. He wants me to hold him and he actually puts his head on my shoulder and hugs back! This is a huge shift for him! He likes to stand in front of me while I am working and put his head in my lap. He says he loves me all the time and cracks me up by asking all the time, "Do you love me, Mama?" This he got from his father, who asks me several times a day if I love him. Jackson has taken up the habit and it is so cute. When he is showing me affection, he says "Oooohhhhh". He got that from me. Whenever I sneak a hug in while dressing him I say it. I don't know why, I just do. Same reason when I hug someone, I pat them on the back. My mom says I have done that since I was a toddler. Don't know why, I just do. So I am enjoying all the hugs and kisses and "do you love me's" and "ooohhhh's". I figure he may go back to his old anti-hug self at any moment so I'd better relish it while I can.

What else? Oh yeah. I had a PET scan this morning. I was supposed to have a PET/CT scan this morning, but Aetna, who knows better than my doctor apparently, decided that getting the CT at the same time as the PET would be too convenient. I was already hooked up to the IV and laying in the machine that does both tests. But it wasn't to be. The tech told me that lots of insurance companies, as of January, are requiring that the PET and CT scans be on different days. No one knows why other than to cause as much inconvenience as they can and possibly make the patients pay more. Two office visits, two IV starts, two scans, patient pays 20% of two visits instead of one. Of course I suspect that after I meet my yearly deductible and out of pocket, that they let me do both scans at once like last year. We shall see.

Of course this isn't such a hardship for me as it is for the patients coming from nursing homes who can barely walk and have hard-to-stick veins. The tech said it was really sucking for the sick and elderly people. Such an arbitrary rule that has absolutely nothing to do with doing the right thing for the patients. Just whatever the insurance says is what the healthcare industry has to do. And you people who are terrified of socialized medicine, what is the difference exactly? How is this any better?

So at some point soon I will have a CT scan, hopefully not in downtown Austin in morning traffic. I will let you all know the PET results when I get them later this week.

I'm not Francine, but I ain't bad

I got a callback for Best Little Whorehouse, which was held last night. Pretty unexciting actually. I had a good time hanging out, visiting with the several old friends who were also auditioning and watching the goings on. I was called back to read/sing for 'Mona's girls' aka 'the ho's'. We were not scheduled to read/sing till 8:45 but it went pretty much as expected - they didn't get to us till 10:00. But that was ok, I was patient and having fun hanging out.

But when it was finally our turn, it was late and they were tired and we didn't really get to do much. Got to sing a couple of bars each in one of the songs the ho's do. And got to read a couple of sentences. That was it. Turns out the director plans to simply cast the girls she wants and work out which girl plays which parts another day. I was disappointed because I was all geared up to really audition, compete, give em hell. And it turns out I didn't have to. It kinda took the wind outta my sails.

But, I am fairly certain I will be cast as one of Mona's girls. I felt really good about my initial audition and then singing with all the other girls I could see where I fit in that group and it looks good. Plus, I am not sure how many girls there will be, but there were not too many extra called back. Maybe even everyone will be cast and placed according to who can sing what. If so I feel pretty confident because I was as good a singer or better than most and not too far behind those above me.

I have learned thru this audition that I have got to stop underestimating what I can do. I don't consider myself a singer because I can't belt the blues like Aretha. I so admire and almost worship great singers. I want desperately to come back as a soul singer, a blues woman, a Francine Reed. (Link goes to Francine song on Lyle album.)

Because I can't sing like that I do this all or nothing thing. I can't sing like Jennifer Holiday so I don't sing at all. Stupid, really because all I am doing is sabotaging myself and denying myself the joy of acting and singing in musicals. "I can't dance," I say, "I can't sing." When the reality is that I sang as well or better than most at this audition. And I do a pretty mean Janis Joplin at theatre karaoke parties. Maybe I can't play Reno Sweeney but that doesn't mean I can't get a decent part in a local musical.

So hopefully my instincts are right and I will get a part in Whorehouse and in May, you'll find me scantily clad on the Palace stage. Cast list probably won't go up til Monday. I'll let you know.

I also had an appt with my dermatologist yesterday and had a couple of moles removed. One had 'abnormal' boundaries. They would normally have just watched it for a while to see if it changes or grows, but because it is in the middle of my back, they wanted to remove it. They tend to remove anything you can't monitor well yourself - backs and scalps they told me. And because I have a prior cancer they are also very careful. They sent it off to be tested for skin cancer. Just a precaution, really, so I am not nervous about that. I don't expect it to come back as anything.

I am more worried about the fact that I can't reach the little wound on my back to clean and care for it. I can't even reach the band-aid to take it off. I am supposed to keep it moist and covered so it heals nicely. Not sure exactly how to work it. If I shower in the morning after David goes to work, I have no way to change the dressing. I am seeing my mom in the morning, so she can help me then. I guess I'll figure it out.

I Auditioned!

Just got home from my audition and I am feeling relieved that it is done and happy that I didn't suck. Really! I didn't suck! I did my monologue pretty darn well, my song was a good choice for me and I was able to sing it with a little attitude (Bonnie Raitt's Love me like a man) and I even did better on the dance than I expected. Not fabulous, as I truly am not a natural dancer. I am an awkward dancer. But I managed to remember the steps and perform them almost correctly. I only looked dorky probably and not totally hopeless. So I am done and will see if I get a callback. Hurrah! I managed to get over wanting to vomit and auditioned for a musical for the first time since I did Annie in 2002.

Groceries, Audition and Lawn Mowing

We went to the grocery store at 5:30 this evening. Apparently this is a very popular time to stock up cause everyone else was there too. And Jackson insists on us using the car carts which are as long as boats, but don't have as much grocery space as a regular cart. Hard to drive in a busy store.

But still I felt grateful to be able to fill my cart with the food we wanted even though prices have gone so far up in the last few months. I worry that if things continue as they are we will have to actually budget for groceries and really look at the prices of the things we like and see where we can cut back. David brings home a good salary, but gas prices and food prices and pre-school and co-pays really eat into it. I am sure this is a pretty familiar story for many folks. Not too frightened yet, but uneasy about things to come. And the medical bills are coming, I am due to be getting some any day now, plus the PET scan coming soon. I hate thinking about money. Blah.

But we cooked a great dinner of tilapia and rice and salad. I am generally not a fish person, but am learning to like it. I just have to find the least 'fishy' fish, like salmon and tilapia. Good stuff.

I am auditioning tomorrow for the next big musical at the Palace - The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas. I don't generally do musicals as I am not much of a dancer and though I sing well, I sing quietly. But this one just seems like a heck of a lot of fun and I figured I'd give it a shot. Why not? I don't have anything else to do and David will be directing a show in a few months. So Monday evening I'll head down as see how it goes. I figure I will do great in the monologue portion, pretty good in the vocal portion and passing to poor in the dance portion. But since it is my home theatre, perhaps Mary Ellen will have some compassion for my lack of dance training and let me in the chorus anyway. Heh, I'm not sure all the whores have to dance so much, maybe I could get away with suggestive movement. I can do sexy. I think. I just can't really dance. Hell, I'm even game to go on stage in really skimpy costumes, I've done it before. I wore a teddy onstage in college and in a show pre-Jackson I got stripped of my blouse onstage and had the long, black skirt I was wearing pulled up to be a sleeveless slip-dress. Quite a shocking and terribly funny moment it was. Ah, the good old days.


I took a few pictures this afternoon of Jackson and his daddy mowing the yard. Very cute. The little boy read me a couple of his favorite books before bed. It is always surprising to realize how much he knows. From a squirming lump, to a boy who can recite most of goodnight moon. Parenthood is awesome. Hard work, but awesome.

Ponderings and Ramblings

Last night in my dreams I had my long hair. I actually remember dreaming that I looked in the mirror and saw myself with it and thought, 'oh wow, my hair isn't gone after all.' It didn't really even start as a dream about my hair. But as soon as my dream self realized that my hair was back it became a dream about hair. I washed it and spent forever in the dream luxuriating in rinsing it and then combing it and it even had a nice wave in it. Lots of body. It was my old hair, only better. I never had body or anything resembling a wave or curl. Even perms didn't last more than a few weeks. When I woke up and realized that it was just a dream I was so disappointed.

I don't really hate my short 'do'. I even am pleased that it looks better than I imagined it would. But it isn't how I see myself deep in my subconscious, I guess. I started thinking about it and realize that I have my old hair in every dream. I can't remember a dream where I was bald or had short, short hair. Not that I see myself in every dream, but there is a self-awareness in dreams and that awareness has never gone bald and started over from nothing.

Losing my hair really hurt. It was like my identity fell out with all my hair. It was such a traumatic event that even now 7 months after I became a bald cancer patient the memory of it and the loss of it still hurts. The 'it'll grow back' crowd just doesn't understand that even after it grows back, the pain of losing it is still there. I still miss my hair. I fricken dream about it.

Ironically, knowing what I know now, if I had all my old hair back, I wouldn't even keep it. I would immediately go to the salon and cut it into a really cute swing bob or something. Perhaps it is just the lack of choice, the powerlessness and the devastation that illness + baldness creates that has left such a lasting scar.

I have such mixed feelings when people are so excited to see me with hair on my head that wasn't store bought. I know their excitement is mostly a good deal of happiness that I am well now and done with treatment. I just have a hard time being excited about it. Yay, I'm not bald, but I still hurt from having been bald. I still have the cancer bomb hanging there for the rest of my life. I still have a long road of awkward lengths to deal with before I get to choose how to wear my hair like other people.

But I am happy to be alive. Bitching about hair loss is just that, bitching. I know that chemo saved my life and I all I had to trade for it was my hair. They said 'give me your hair and you can have your life back.' Heh, 'and money, we want your money too. And you have to feel like shit for six months. And dream about your hair from time to time. And there is no guarantee it will stay gone. But give us your hair and we'll give you a chance.'

I guess it isn't so bad of a trade. It just sucks sometimes to be saddled with the experience of it. I read a few blogs of other cancer patients and out of the 7 that I read 3 of them have relapsed and another one is terminal. Not very good statistics and it isn't a very representative number, maybe I should broaden my reading list.

And that brings me to the whole question of what do we who have/had cancer call ourselves. I guess the common lingo is 'cancer survivor'. But for some reason I feel self-conscious using that term. Can't really explain it other than to call myself a cancer survivor might jinx my remission. It also makes me feel like there should be a lifetime network movie about me and I don't want to feel like a victim. I'm pissed off sometimes and I do say 'poor me' sometimes, but who wants to feel like they live in some movie starring Shannon Dougherty? Not me.

But I am not really a cancer patient since I am done with chemo. I still get my counts checked all the time and get PET/CT scans every three months. I still have a port implanted in my chest. I guess I will feel more like a cancer survivor when I feel less like a cancer patient.

On an interesting note that I have continually forgotten to blog about, I can't listed to my mp3 player without feeling sick to my stomach. I used to listen to it during chemo and now when I so much as take it out of its case my stomach starts to roll and I feel sick. I discovered this on the plane to NYC. I knew it was all in my head, a product of my brain mistaking the mp3 player as the cause of my nausea from chemo. I forced myself to listen anyway and after a song or two the feeling went away. It happened on the plane ride home too. Heh, even thinking about listening to it makes my stomach roll. It seems to be imprinted - mp3 player = yuck.


We took advantage of the weather yesterday and went to the park with Jackson. Elaine met us there and brought her camera. She sent this shot and I love it. The baby is not such a baby anymore. He is a little boy.

I had the opportunity to hold a 7 week-old boy today and man, I really want another baby. Felt so good to hold the compact little squirming bundle. Don't know if and when that could happen for us. A pregnancy for me would mean committing to 10 months or more of no PET scans. For some reason they won't give you radioactive sugar by iv if you are pregnant. When would it be ok to stop the scans? And do I have any unfried eggs after chemo? Questions that only time can answer.

Rituxan

Scientific American has published an article this week talking about the improvement in life span of Non-Hodgkin Lymphoma patients who take Rituxan with Chemo. This was the R in my R-CHOP treatment. Glad to read that it is really making a difference.

Except I still hate to hear them talk about 5 year survival rates. What do I care about 5 year rates at 31 years old with a toddler son and the (pipe)dream of having more children? I want to talk about 20 years, 30 years, not 5. Five years is simply not good enough.

Am I supposed to say now that I am ever so grateful for any measly ol life extension? Well, I'm not. I want more. Demand more. Insist upon more. Am I ungrateful? Youbetcha. Fuck off, cancer. Don't come back. Not in five years, not in twenty. So there. Case closed.

True Story

This story starts with a confession. I do. Occasionally. Fart. I know, it is shocking, but true. Sometimes it happens.

And this morning while I was changing Jackson, I passed wind. Then Jackson got really excited and said, "Did you hear that? Daddy's home!"

Two Things

Two news stories today made me want to rant a little.

First, the answer to our health-care crisis is right under our noses. It's in our drinking water! Studies are showing that much of our water supply is contaminated with prescription drugs. So all of you without health insurance, drink up! There's sure to be something in there to cure whatever ails you. Tada! I should run for president.

Or Governor.

That seems to afford you all kinds of perks. You get to be "involved" in prostitution rings. What? You don't? Oh. Well then, you just apologize, and say "My bad" and everything will be ok. And your doormat of a wife will stand behind you at a press conference where you apologize.

I don't get it. Why do these women attend the press conference? I am not saying she should leave him. It is her marriage to deal with. Either it is over or it isn't. But damn. Does she get no time to be pissed off a little bit? No time to say "Hey, I'm really hurt right now and I don't want to stand behind you on TV."

I would never stand behind him at the press conference. I would hold my own press conference. I'd probably curse him publicly for humiliating me and ruining his own career and the stability of our family. Then I would announce that I would be out of touch on a retreat spending a great deal of his earnings and would discuss counseling and the possible saving of our marriage when I got back.

But no. I would never stand behind a cheating, lying man at a press conference. Not even for the 4 million dollar purple diamond ring Kobe Bryant's wife got after his press conference.

I'd take the damn ring in payment for the public humiliation. But I still wouldn't attend the press conference.

A Comparison

My bloodwork came back largely normal today. Not cancer patient normal. Normal normal. WBC at 7.2! No artificial assistance, I made all those cells on my own. Isn't that exciting? It really is, trust me.

In honor of this great spontaneous cell production and just because the comparison is so africken-mazing, I am going to share a photo with you. This was taken at my request the second week of November just before my mom and husband near-carried me to the car to go to the ER for the first of my 5-day hospitalizations. It was a week after my 6th and final round of chemo. To me, this is what chemo looks like - along with dehydration and the beginnings of a pseudamonas infection on my face. A few hours later the spot on my cheek would swell to about the size of a baseball and require minor surgery and another two months to heal. And lots of bitterness to get over.



And then there is this one of David and me having a blast in NYC. Just a small dimpled scar is left on my cheek. And I am not so very bitter. And not so very sick. That is nice.

Not Much

Life is pretty laid-back right now. Except for the being sick thing. Jackson and I still have snotty noses. I get my blood levels checked again tomorrow and I am hoping my WBC will be more than the 1.7 it was last week. Up is good.

We did our taxes this evening and counting up all the money spent on medical bills was tedious but rewarding. We paid $1198 for prescriptions alone last year. Wow. All the co-pays really add up too. But it means we get a decent tax return and we are so glad the year 2007 and the tax prep for 2007 are done.

Though things are mundane right now, life with a 2 1/2 year old is not. Jackson is such a funny guy. He told me this morning "that's some nice jammies you got there, mommy." I don't know where that comes from, the 'you got there' statements. During the thunderstorm last week, he came into my room and told me "you don't have to be afraid, mommy." He is getting so affectionate lately. He has never been interested in cuddling and being held. But he is learning what it is all about, I think. When I say "I love you, Jackson" he says "I love you too, mommy." He even crawls up in my lap an says he loves me out of nowhere. And he wants to be hugged and held much more than he ever has. I am enjoying it. What a sweet boy he is.

Can I just say that I absolutely hate daylight savings time? We have been messed up all day because of the time change. I hate this. I am always so happy in October when we get to switch back. Except it isn't in October anymore, it is not until November now since Congress decided to prolong the torture. Can we just leave the damned clock alone?

I'm not sick anymore! Hooray!

I am finally feeling better today. I have been down on my hind end for days and days. Then the antibiotic ripped my stomach to shreds and I had stomach cramps for a day and a half. But I am now less like a human snot machine and can actually eat again and sort of taste it. I suspect flu, but didn't confirm it.

Jackson is dealing with it too. He is done with the fever part, but still in the terrible snot part and he still refuses to blow his nose. Poor boy. I think he should be able to go to school on Thursday, but he still needs a bit of recovery time.

Since I felt better today and my mom was here, I took advantage of it and cleaned house. I want all the germies out of here. I have the doors and windows open to air everything out and have cloroxed the house. Clean sheets and mopped floors and fresh air. Finally managed to unpack and put all the suitcases away. I am so glad to be feeling better and tomorrow I can get back to work. Hopefully my degermifying the house will keep David well. I hope.

Jackson figured out this morning that he can get out of his bed. Instead of sitting in bed yelling for me to come get him up, he simply came wandering into my bedroom this morning about 7:40 and said "Mama, I get out of my bed." The only thing cuter would have been him running in saying, "tada!" He is napping now and I am waiting to see if he yells to get up or if he comes wandering out.

I hope he wakes soon, cause I need to get in his room and degermify in there too. He needs all fresh bedding and his window opened and everything vacuumed too.

You know, it may sounds weird to some people, but it feels damned good to be able to get up and clean my own damned house if I want to. Being down on my ass for six days reminded me too much of the so-recent chemo days. Mom kept complaining I was doing too much today, but I can't help it. I feel good today and that makes me want to do what I feel like doing, no limits.

I just hope my counts come up and stay there. They were low on Wed and I went in Friday to have them checked and they were even lower. They contemplated IV antibiotics which could have meant another hospital stay, but Dr. George really felt my illness was viral or flu and more antibiotics wouldn't help. So i got to stay home on my own couch. We had my counts checked yesterday and they were slightly up; WBC was 1.7. Normal is 5-ish to 10-ish. So I am still not in that normal range yet. I get checked again in a week and I hope to see a big jump. At least to 4-ish. It makes me nervous that my bone marrow has still not recovered enough to work as it should. Dr. George says it isn't unusual for it to take a year or more. But I am impatient. What are you waiting for, bone marrow?

I will be scheduling my next PET scan for sometime in March. I'll post on that when it happens.