Good news update!

Am typing with one hand--my left hand, no less--so pardon any typos. The nurse took out the IV line in the crook of my right arm, and I am not to bend it for 30 minutes.

But I have some good news, so let's try being a lefty, shall we?

The oncology hematologist who is covering this weekend said that the radiation should act like napalm on the "plasma cytoma" (SP?) that is a long, pencil-esque lesion on my spine. That is a much better result than mere "shrinking," IMHO.

TMI alert: He also told me that the little bugger is the result of bone marrow leaking from a crack in my spine. They couldn't find the crack on the MRIs or x-ray, but it's somewhere.

To this news, Cousin Pat couldn't help but add, "Well, we've always known you were cracked."

So yes, now it's official. I'm cracked, but the "export" made possible by this fissure is going to be eradicated--hasta la vista, Baby!

Happy day!

Today is not likely a radiation day after all, but that's okay. The doc said that just means I'm not at high risk for more problems, which I'll take as a good sign, too. All will resume tomorrow.

So, that's the latest medical news. After lunch, Karen and I are going to go outside and soak up some sun and fresh air--it looks gorgeous out there, and I am looking forward to it.

Will be rockin' my johnnie and winter coat, with a pair of organic crew socks and purple Crocs.

If ever there was a time to embrace "lesbian fashion" as an oxymoron, this is it.

Lunch has arrived, so I'm off--love to you all, with particular gratitude for your comments, Ann

Update attempt # 2

Have had my second radiation treatment--after a full breakfast, I'm happy to note--and may (not definite) have yet another tomorrow.

They're not messing around with that blankety-blank mass, and I am glad they're taking a no-prisoners approach (even if I do fancy myself a peace, love and understanding type of gal). If you want to think about what should be happening to said mass, the operative word is SHRINKING--it should be SHRINKING.

Excuse me: It IS shrinking.

So let's all think shrinking thoughts, shall we?

My kidney function has improved, too, which is good news as well--no extraordinary measures required right now, which works for me.

That extra MRI? It took two and one-half hours. Thank Whomever for Ativan and pain meds, for it was a lot to take in. No music, either, so I found myself trying to imagine which music went along with the banging and clanging best. Green Day came up most often, followed by the B-52s, which I listened to during my first MRI the day before. Perfect music to MRI by, that.

Yesterday, Karen and I were graced by a visit from Mary (aka the Singing Juice, Shwea's favorite step-mom and my scheduler) and her Lynn, who came bearing scones and hilarity. Good combo. We had a tremendous visit, and talked about light things and more frightening things as well.

No one should be surprised that the appearance of the mass in my back has put my worst-case-scenario center in my brain on high alert. I am frightened, in other words, and talking about that with Karen, Lynn and Mary gave me the courage to ask my oncologist what the mass may mean where my original prognosis is concerned.

It all comes down to how I respond to treatment. This sort of thing is common with multiple myeloma, so there is a good chance I will still be able to wrest some good long time out of this life in spite of that shrinking violet in my back.

They are planning on adding another chemo to my current Velcade to help this all along, but that won't be happening until about 10 days after my last radiation, which will be in two weeks or so. We're still working on where I will be staying while in Boston, but I'm sure that will work out somehow, too.

Things tend to do that for me, even if I do seem to need to hit some heart-stopping bumps and potholes along the way. Sigh.

Here's to things smoothing out, returning to normal (or whatever that is for yours truly) or shrinking away to oblivion, depending.

Thank you so for your concern and notes--I will try to keep the info coming as time and circumstance allow, and hope you all are well and happy and enjoying what looks an awful lot like the beginning of spring outside my enormous hospital room window. (I can see the Charles and sailboats and hawks and all sorts of beauty from my bed--isn't that nice?)

Love to you all this gorgeous, good-news Saturday, Ann

Quick update

Had my first radiation treatment this morning. Bless them, they scooped me up before breakfast, so I ate graham crackers and cranberry juice in the Radiation Dept. for my morning meal.

Lunch was just a short while ago--yes, da noive!

Anyway, food aside, I'm glad to have one treatment done. Word is I will have 12 treatments altogether.

The only side effect so far is heartburn, which they're finding a way to address.

Otherwise, I get to have another MRI (the first missed the last bits on the bottom) today, and I had a consult with a kidney man, as my kidneys are underperforming (15-20% of normal) in an alarming way.

Well, a nurse just stopped by and I need to close for now. Bye!

This is getting (more) ridiculous

Today's MRI told us I have a "mass" on my spine, and I'm back in the hospital again.

Tomorrow, I start radiation, and may be having radiation for the next three weeks.

No chemo while this is going on, of course. Oh my.

But, the word is most people respond well to this treatment, so I'm choosing to go along with that.

A surgeon is waiting in the wings in case the radiation doesn't work; the mass could mess with such vital systems as walking and elimination and the like. Altogether now: Yikes!

Karen is keeping me company, but I hope to be sending her home in a few days. Will arrange to have my laptop during my stay, so I'll be keeping in touch. Am also going to get coverage for the Bombshell once I know what my schedule will be. Let it be soon!

Dear people: If you have any pull with Jesus, a Higher Power, gods and goddesses, or any major or minor deities at all--Earth Mother?!--would you please apply a smidge of your mojo to my case?

Well wishes work, too.

So, that's the scoop. Not what I had hoped, but my opinion appears to carry little weight these days, and I am just going to stop trying to project my wishes on what should be happening and just let what happens happen.

I think life will be far less disappointing this way, and a lot easier to calibrate to--which is what I'm doing.

And trying to keep my humor, though tonight they put me on massive doses of steroids and then told me I couldn't eat.

Rather like letting someone eat a jar of salted peanuts then saying, "Sorry, no beverages for you."

GRRRRRRRRR!

So, while I would like to think my Midwestern demeanor and humor will help me sail through this with aplomb, the steroids may be an X factor even 24 years of training as a human sheep cannot overcome.

There may be hissies, in other words.

And I will report them here, for confession is good for the soul, and you might find them funny.

And that might make this worthwhile. Well, a little worthwhile. (Let's be real, people--I'd much rather be home and healthy!)

Love from the ER in a major metropolitan hospital (no room at the inn quite yet, alas), Ann

Whew--that was close!

Almost ended up spending the night at MassGeneral, friends. Seems my kidneys are not happy--even less happy than they were when I was first diagnosed, as far as creatinine (SP?) and other substances go, in fact.

My dear doctor is not entirely sure why this is happening, because it could be any number of things--all because I am still very early in treatment and, as you know, I have had a lot of (mis)adventures since this odyssey began.

But he was clear that this does not mean the treatment isn't working--it is just too soon to say.

Until my kidneys are happier, though, I will be going to the local hospital (yes, the one nicknamed Cooley Dick, Scott) and getting extra fluids tomorrow and Friday, most likely. Seems I need to be taking in about four litres of water each day (and that's a LOT O' WATER). Am also drinking as much as I can to aid and abet my dear little filters, so if you hear a loud sloshing sound, odds are it's yours truly, Ann Podolske.

On other fronts, there is also some concern that my backache may not be due to "just" bad posture and hospital beds. Alas, it is a concern I've begun to have myself. So, to investigate further, I will have my first MRI tomorrow morning. I am having it in an "open" MRI, as I confessed to being a bit claustrophobic. I think it has something to do with being asthmatic, and maybe also to do with getting stuck on a very small elevator with a lot of people once in Manhattan. Shudder!

Either way, I am glad they are humoring me and putting me in a less constricted space. Here's hoping it all goes well and my aching back is just that.

But, it's good to know no matter what the cause, this I know. With this stuff, ignorance certainly isn't bliss.

At least that's what I keep telling myself.

The good news today? My platelets are up even more--176, I think (the results are with my friend Sky for review). And one of the staff at the hospital had a scarf on her head that suggested she was Muslim, so I greeted her with the "salaam-mah-lay-koom" I learned 20+ years ago in Morocco. Turns out she moved to Boston from Morocco, and lived not far from where I did in the Old Country. Small world!

The other upbeat bit is that the steroids are doing their usual excellent job on my usually aching back, which means I barely know it's there.

Of course, I'm also eating as though I am the entire U.S. Olympic Team, and hope you'll all forgive me my girth until this preposterous business is over.

As I may have noted (forgive me any repeats), a frequent question in hospitals is, "Have you had any unplanned-for weight loss?"

Surely you jest! I have a ridiculously difficult time with planned-for weight loss. For pity's sake, I can't even lose weight with cancer!

On that note, I think it's time for this crankypants to go to bed. Thanks to Karen for sticking with me through today's extra-long MassGeneral trip and to you for checking in, friend. Love, Ann and her shadow (aka Shwea)

Thought today was going to be a "light" day.....

Today was a full, busy day. My friend Ron, who as soon as I am up for it this spring will be renovating my kitchen, came by with '60s-era Formica chips for my perusal. (I'm planning on having a little fun with this space, for as you know, Padlocked is all about the fun from here on in.)

He also brought along an orchid and a copy of Pema Chodron's "When Things Fall Apart," too.

No, not your father's contractor, our Ron (couldn't be happier about that, mind you).

Also, my plumber, Mr. Wilson, came by to get paid for the new tankless hot water heater he installed recently. It's a beaut! He also helped me complete my nice, big Baystate Gas rebate form for the energy efficient addition I've made to my home.

I now have a high-efficiency furnace, on-demand tankless hot water heater, super-efficient washer and dryer, and a hybrid car.

Making progress, people!

This afternoon I had another blood thinness test (for lack of a better way to put it), and apparently post-transfusion my numbers are waaaaay off. Even though I am what the medical community considers "heavyset," my blood is thin.

Doesn't that just burn you? It does me.

Won't be taking my "thinning" pills tonight or tomorrow; that should help. Thanks to Kate for driving me to the clinic and CVS--double duty!

Also, I'm back to Boston tomorrow for treatment #5, and am very glad I'll be seeing my doctor soon. And getting new results. (Here's hoping the news is good!) Karen is taking on the task tomorrow, bless her generous heart.

The house will be tended by another friend, as well as Melanie, the Bombshell's favorite pet-sitter. So, all is well on that front.

And I get to take steroids tomorrow--energy will soon be mine! Bwaahahahahahaah!

Ahem.

The day is wrapping up nicely, too. Aunt Mary dropped off two Boston cream pie cupcakes--isn't that a great idea? And the head of my department at Big Company and a dear friend sent cards that made me a little teary-eyed (in a good way).

This poem, by Annie Johnson Flint, was on one of the cards. Works for me:

God has not promised

skies always blue,

flower-strewn pathways

all our lives through.

God has not promised

sun without rain,

joy without sorrow,

peace without pain.

But God has promised

strength for the day,

rest for the labor,

light for the way.

Grace for the trials,

help from above,

unfailing sympathy,

undying love.

A little more ballast

Today was blood transfusion day, two units' worth. Didn't make me feel like a million bucks, but a lot more than the $1.49 I have felt like of late.

Mostly, the new blood seemed to affect my general seaworthiness. As I walked out to Karen's car afterwards (bless her and Mary for doing a tag-team job of keeping me company today), I felt more solid, as though my legs were made of sterner stuff.

No small thing, that.

Also had more work done on my aching back by a gifted PT, who did a variety of things to yours truly, the most amusing being a pair of metal pads that sent vacillating current across and into my skin. My back felt as though it was being massaged by a couple of very strong centipedes, for lack of a better way of putting it. Almost fell asleep on the table, it was so relaxing--and my back didn't hurt during this process at all (the other things that were done? Never mind).

Came home a half hour late for the Bombshell's feeding, but all has been forgiven (she's easy that way). Had enough gumption to make a decent supper (salad and cheese tortellini and sauce), and am now contemplating a short walk, perhaps with She Who Must Be Obeyed. We shall see.

Tomorrow is a light day, which is good, for Wednesday treatment starts up again.

Works for me.

Hope all's well with you, Ann and the post-supper snorer

Pardon the interruption in service....

One of last week's snow storms knocked out my land line, thereby messing up my DSL as well.

Today the dear folks from Verizon cleared things up, happily, and so I, and my blog, are back in bidness.

It was hard to be without email, I must say. Something like withdrawal set in, but I had other things going on, so I didn't notice it much.

Other things? Well, my back has been killing me since I was sprung from MassGeneral, and I found out why this past week. It's due to a combination of the posture my poor mother tried to improve (unsuccessfully) for decades and the fact I was in various pieces of hospital equipment for more than a week.

Not good for one's back, that stuff.

So, I am now on medicine for pain and have exercises to do, thanks to a marvelous PT I saw on Friday. Add in a reusable ice pack from CVS, and things have definitely begun to look up yet again.

Still, I was feeling dragged out, and they did some more blood work. Seems I'm due for another transfusion in the coming week, which is no surprise for someone in my booties. The good news is that the work also showed that my platelets are up yet again--up to 150 (from a low of 47 when I first checked in to the hospital). While low normal is 300 or so, this is still progress, and I am happy for it.

There have been scores of dear people in the house this week, bearing groceries, shovels, leashes (for the Bombshell, mind you), videos/DVDs/books on tape and more--one even brought his scissors and trimmer, so yours truly could have a decent hair cut. And another not only "house sat" while I went to church in case Verizon came to fix my phone while I was out (they did), she brought treats, including a Midwestern delicacy called "crud." Delightful!

This parade of sweet peas made a challenging week less so, and I am ever so grateful, friends. Thank you, too, to those sending well wishes--those are cheerfully accepted anytime!

Well, this is about as much time in front of a monitor as my stomach can stand right now; thank you for checking in. Love from me and the Princess Shwea

Make that four naps/day

Expected to feel tired this week, but this is an unexpected level of tired. I understand my dear carcass is undergoing a major, er, challenge, so fatigue makes sense.

Just wish I was better at lolling about than I am (and if asked I would have thought I would be really, really good at it--shows what I know!).

Still, I managed to go to Jo and Ann's (and Chloe and Isaiah's) last night, thanks to their very kind invite (and ride service). Good to be out and about with dear people, little and otherwise. We watched part of the "Wizard of Oz," and I got to see my homeboy, the Cowardly Lion, react to being swatted on the nose by Dorothy.

Never get tired of that.

Came home to a call from my cousin Pat, which was a nice surprise. She's in the midst of Wisconsin in February, so let us all think warm thoughts on her behalf. (You don't want to know what it's like out there now.)

Last night and today we had a big-ish storm, and I've been hearing loud "PLOP!" sounds on the roof all day. Sounds as though people are dropping boxes, but it's just the heavy white stuff landing above. My snow removal guy showed up (happy day!) and Karen was just here to get my order for CVS and the store. And to make me call my Boston doc, as I have had some chest congestion the past two days.

Happily, his office did not recommend anything involving an ED visit, and as long as I don't develop a fever, I should be okay waiting until Friday morning, when I see my new PCP. Whew!

So this qualifies as a good day.

The fun? It never ends.

It's raining fruit

Woke up yesterday feeling a little beat up, still. Well, I tend to wake up that way every day, since my arm was manhandled by a blood pressure cuff at MassGeneral. The good news is that some Tylenol appears to do the trick in addressing it and my aching back (which may be from either sleeping "funny" or from all the time I've spent in seats with no back support of late).

Anyway, I also am off steroids for the week, which also gives me less vim and vigor to work with; am taking naps as my dear carcass demands, which is about twice a day right now.

Even so, I had a lovely visit from Karen yesterday, who called while she was shopping and brought me some nice things to eat (including vanilla ice cream and hot fudge, which I have been jonesing for for days now). Also was greeted in the morning by the delivery of an edible bouquet, courtesy of Tricia, a dear gal who I worked with for just a bit a Big Company. It was dear of her to think of me (and typical of her to send something healthy--she can't help herself 8-).

In the afternoon, Mary came by to take me out of a little something at Evolution Cafe before I had my blood test of the day. It was good to be "out," if you know what I mean, even if I feel as though I move a lot like the old man character that Arte Johnson portrayed in "Laugh In" ages ago.

No land speed records for this gal for a while, I have a feeling.

Speaking of records, I did make a big dent in the mail pile--that felt wonderful--and responded to some inquiries from my short-term disability provider and others who needed some info. Nice to feel almost/sort of caught up there. I also made the rounds in the back yard, cleaning up the evidence that Shwea's digestive tract is working just fine, thank you (and for that I am grateful). Figured it would be good to take care of that before the snow fell, if indeed it did.

Lastly, in the afternoon, a UPS man came by with two big boxes of Harry & David pears, courtesy of my sister Beth. He also came bearing a biscuit for Shwea, which was a hit, to put it mildly. (She will expect the same from all trucks from here on in, but that's how the Bombshell works).

Now, it's snowing--the weather guys called it right this time. I've already had one nap today, and if this keeps up, it might be a multi-nap kind of Tuesday.

So, all things considered, I'm okay. Hope you are, too.

Things are looking up--still!

The day began with the great news from the local clinic that I no longer have to give myself a shot (in the stomach no less) twice a day--that alone would have been enough to make it a keeper!

That was followed by church, which was the usual love fest, but with a situation-specific twist. I attend a hug-happy church, which is marvelous 99.9% of the time, but since I have to be extra careful about germs these days (and I'm supposed to be careful not to get any of my chemo on/near anybody either), a "Don't hug Ann!" alert was issued.

Couple Bonnie and Alice were assigned as my "bodyguards," for pity's sake, and if you met those two, you know I was well protected.

Still, I was on the receiving end of many "air" hugs and kisses, and it was just great to be back to the loving, sweet confines of Haydenville Congregational Church after what I think was a four-week absence. Too long!

Then Hilary came by with a delicious lunch, and we had a great time catching-up (under Shwea's watchful eye; she landed some carrots for her hard work, not to worry).

A nap was in order next, and Shwea happily aided and abetted that cause.

Soon, I expect Barb and Deb to appear with fixin's for a good stir fry. We might watch an old movie, too (I'm thinking "Gentlemen Prefer Blondes"--we shall see).

Oh, happy day!!!

Treatment #4 done!

Went to Boston for just my infusion today--no lab work, no doc visit, nada--so it was a fairly brisk business. Was given a ride by Kathleen K from church, who landed me there in plenty of time, happily.

My nurse, Andrea, not only had family in Wisconsin but also lived in Northampton during her college years, so we had plenty to chat about.

Of course, when do I not have plenty to chat about?

Came home to a phone call from my local clinic, avid to check my blood levels (this blood thinning business is fraught, as you may know). So, I drove myself there (I needed to drive my car, what can I say?) and on the way home stopped at Friendly's for takeout (grilled cheese with tomato and french fries--Shwea was thrilled, too).

Then I received a hilarious update on the life and times of my friend Jennifer Myszkowski, and now I'm getting ready to watch some streaming comedies courtesy of Netflix (what a great invention).

So, all and all, today has been a good day, and I am feeling fairly good. It's a steroid day, of course, which certainly helps.

I'm not going to quibble. Good is good.

A little ray o' hope

It took two trips, but I think the ear/nose/throat specialist I saw today managed to stem the tide in my nose. My friend Deb did a stellar job of driving me to the clinic twice, and I am ever-so-grateful she was up for the driving challenge that entailed. (What a friend we have in someone who ignores "No U-Turn" signs.)

Will spare you the details, but I pray that I do not have to sit through what I sat through today again. Ever.

Didn't think of myself as squeamish, but today I learned I have at least one limit where my carcass is concerned.

Came home to take a nap with you-know-who that was just perfect. Woke to a nice chat with my friend Kat out in San Francisco, followed by the delivery of a delicious meal from one of my dear church community, Emily.

Things are looking up, friends.

Thanking you all for the commiserations and kindnesses, Ann

Oh, crap

I've spent the last seven hours in the local ED, courtesy of a nosebleed that started this afternoon. (Thanks to Ginger for the ride, Maria for feeding the Bombshell, and Anne for giving her blondness her nighttime walk, btw.)

As you can imagine, a nosebleed, even of the 9-plus hour variety, is not a show-stopper in a busy ED, so the wait was not surprising.

Unfortunately, my options were few, and the ED is where the Boston doc told me to go.

Goddess bless Ann H. for sitting with me the entire time, telling tales and generally keeping the time passing along. Thanks, too, to Jo, who was left in charge of their children while Ann was watching me hold gauze to my nose.

Fascinating!

Must say, I was really surprised at how angry I was at this latest twist in my saga. Multiple myeloma? Check. Blood clot?? Well, it can be borne. But an endless nose bleed?!!

Now I'm pissed.

Could you stand some good news?

Sky, Karen and yours truly heard an earful today at my third treatment. The blood work showed that my bone marrow is definitely back on line, my platelets are up, creatinine down and generally speaking, the numbers are trending in the right direction all along the line.

Wooooooheeeeeeee!

My chest pains have abated, too, and while I still have this odd numbness in my left arm, overall, I am feeling pretty darn good.

And while yesterday I feared I would be checked in to MassGeneral tonight, I am home--home!

Let's savor this moment, shall we? Love from me and the Bombshell.....

Cherry on top, reporting for duty

I'm just back from a night at the hospital, thanks to chest pains that started yesterday morning.

Seems I have a blood clot on top of everything else, and now will be taking blood thinners for the foreseeable.

Just like my papa!

Ain't tradition grand?

Seriously, between having cancer and being flat on my back for a week, I was a prime candidate for such nonsense.

The good news is I will be heading back to Boston to have my third treatment tomorrow.

Onward and upward, or something.

There's no place like home....

Have been back since late yesterday afternoon, and my, it is wonderful to be in my little ranch in Lesbianville. Woke up in the middle of last night disoriented to be in such a quiet, dark room, and then my dear Bombshell began snoring, and all was well.

Haven't had a chance to post, I'm happy to report, for I have been swept up in the attention of a wonderful array of women with short hair cuts and sensible shoes. Seriously, I have been blessed with a generous array of friends and church family who are watching over me something fierce.

It's a relief, for I had some "helpful" people suggest to me after Linda died that I should be careful, for caregivers often get ill once their work is done. Don't know what I was really supposed to do with that intel--not run out and try to get sick, as I had, uh, planned?--but such caveats left me wondering, "Well, if I do get sick, now that Linda's gone, who is going to take care of me?"

I needn't have worried. There's no end of dear hearts and gentle people waiting to help.

All things considered, I am one lucky gal.

In fact, offers of help are coming even farther afield. My cousin Mary offered to come out of retirement in the Carolinas (or is it Georgia?--how embarrassing, I don't even know) to tend to yours truly, which was sweet. She's a rip, and it would be a hoot to see her, but I do feel I'm covered but good with my local family.

What Mary also did, however, was offer what is without a doubt my favorite assessment of my situation. So, out of 100s of entries, the winner of the "How Would You Describe the Latest Development in Ann Podolske's Life?" contest is:

"You have had an extremely crummy year and this illness must seem like whipped cream on a shit sundae."

Hilarious! And it has the added kick for me of being a saying that was a favorite in my North Woods Wisconsin hometown many years ago. (The dairy reference being key.)

Just please, God, don't let there be any cherry on top.

Happy Valentine's Day from me and my blond shadow, A

Update from a small room in a big building

Well, I learned something today that was, well, daunting. If you are of a delicate nature, you may not want to read the next line or two. My bone marrow biopsy showed 90% cancer cells.

90%?! And I thought I had the flu?!!

Yes, we should all be grateful I am a comic and communicator, not a member of the medical profession.

But, the dear doctors are all convinced there are ways of turning this terrible trend around, and giving my bone marrow the room it needs to make all the very important things my carcass needs to keep on keepin' on. They can't cure this, however, but these medicines can send the bad guys scampering off to an undisclosed location (I do find it easy to imagine they're sharing space with Dick Cheney, I do).

So, with this news, I found myself asking a particularly wonderful doctor what this all means. I said I realize one can't say anything for certain, but I'm guessing I'm in a place where it wouldn't be wise to plan on blowing my retirement accounts in the next two years.

He smiled and agreed, bless him, but also said something to the effect that I shouldn't deny myself, either.

Sounds like marching orders to me: Have fun, Padlocked!! (Spelling courtesy of Microsoft.)

So, that's the plan. I am supposedly heading home tomorrow after my second chemo (please don't ask when; things happen on their own schedule here, and I'll only believe I'm leaving when I feel the cool Boston air on my neck as I step out of the building).

So, here's hoping my next missive comes from my dear home, with my dear Bombshell snoring contentedly at my feet. Thank you so much for the marvelous messages and support--hope to be having fun with you very, very soon.

Love from the Land o' Open Johnnies, Ann

Just when you thought things couldn't get any more interesting.....

Well, the stomach flu that I couldn't completely shake is multiple myeloma, people.



Really?! Really.



I've been told not to look at the web for information, and hope you'll do the same. For most of it offers far more dire predictions for the likes of me than likely reflect reality.



What one doctor said gives me the most hope. He said that while Linda may have had about 18 months, there is a very good chance I'll have 18 years--maybe more.



So, that's not so terrible, is it?

I didn't think so, either.

Oh, and if today's treatment doesn't work, there are many more FDA-approved treatments in the ready, and more in the research pipeline.

One last bit of optimistic business. The premier research and treatment facility for multiple myeloma? I'm sitting in it.

So, here's to success, and to me being a going concern for a great while longer.

All good from the land of open johnnies, Ann

Feeling a bit less oogly

Still, I stayed home today, as I know the best way to jinx recovery from something is to try to do too much the moment you feel better.

Good thing, for the plumbing guys found a replacement for the cracked pan and were able to come by right away and install it.

It looks as though the small lake around the furnace is receding, which is the best thing that has happened all week.

That and my feeling a little more humanoid, of course.

Who would think this combination of events would count as great news?

Understanding is a [fill-in-the-blank]

Well, at least the sort of understanding I've gained this week. I now have first-hand knowledge of what it is like to feel nausea for a number of days. Linda endured waves of nausea for weeks, perhaps months, and I know a little better how just awful her life must have been for a very long time. It is knowledge I would rather not have, mind you, for what is there to be done? I am a wuss, this I know, but to contemplate such expanses of time feeling this lousy or worse? Makes me very, very sad for my Sweetie.

Otherwise, what is there to report? Not much, I'm sorry to say. The furnace is still leaking, though the dear company was prompt with its billing for the "repair." They will be back with some other options, per the nice lady at the shop. In my experience, most tradespeople have a nice lady answering the phone on behalf of the guys in the shop. I think they do that in part because (sexism alert) women listen better, and to defuse angry customers who were gearing up to give one of the repair guys an earful. I know my father was not above having me answer the phone when he thought a mad customer was calling--who is going to yell at an 8-year-old girl? Actually, you'd be surprised.

Or would you?

Anyway, I digress. Seems what news I have is not exactly pleasant, so perhaps I should just go to bed. Again. (I've had to nap more than once today.)

Hope you are all well, and all of your major household systems are behaving themselves. These are not small things, apparently.

Another HAC attack?

Well, two guys from the place that installed our furnace in 2003 (October, to be precise) came by on Tuesday. They spent a very long time trying to figure out what was wrong, and came to the conclusion that a tray--maybe drip pan is more accurate--that is supposed to collect the water created by the unit has cracks in it. Why? Because "somebody who worked on it" likely cracked it--"It's real easy to do"--and the vibration of the furnace probably made it worse.

Since only people from their company have worked on our furnace, I found the "somebody" irritatingly evasive. They then proceeded to declare the furnace "cheap," which, if memory serves, is not how the man from this same company referred to it when he sold this supposedly high efficiency furnace to us back in the earlier part of the decade. Not for a bargain price, certainly. I recall our getting three bids, and theirs was right in the middle.

Harrumph number 2.

Last but not least, they said that they are going to try to find a new drip pan for me, but aren't sure one will still be available. It was such a cheap furnace, after all. To patch it, they put about a gallon (or so it smelled) of glue on it to fill in the gaps. Sheesh!

I was close to a full boil about an hour after these guys left, for after thinking about it a little while, I figured out that what they told me was, in essence: (1) the furnace they sold me seven years ago is junk, (2) they aren't interested in taking any hint of responsibility for that or the cracks "somebody" put in it, and (3) if they can't find a pan, well....

Since when is seven years the life span of a furnace?!

If, heaven forbid, a pan cannot be found (or fabricated--thanks for the hot tip, Jennifer), I will be spending a chunk of Linda's insurance money on a new furnace.

Bummer.

Of course, I won't buy it at the place that sold me the piece o' crap in '03. Oh no.

So, if anyone has any strong opinions on the best forced hot air furnaces available in our humble corner of the Commonwealth, do tell. (More tips on hot water heaters are welcome, too.)

On other fronts, I just finished watching "Whip It," the Drew Barrymore film glorifying women's roller derby. I found it a delightful Girl Power romp with some good dialogue, punk derivative eye candy (Juliette Lewis was particularly fierce) and Marcia Gay Harden (who I love in just about anything).

Also decided to order "Linda's" book through CaringBridge. It will include all journal entries, comments and pictures. Was a little shocked at the cost ($175), but figured it was worth it. This format will be a lot easier to peruse than a web site, certainly. And I will keep this book for the rest of my life.

Here's hoping that's a good long time.

Otherwise, it's just cold. Damn cold. Shwea lifting her paw ever-so-pathetically after a few minutes outside cold. Had plans to go out and about later this afternoon, but thought about it and decided this was a day to hunker. And to be grateful that I and my snoring mass o' fur have a roof over our heads and a working (for now) furnace. Here's hoping some day all people can say the same, eh?

Things are looking slightly upish

Am very surprised to report that the snow removal person who I gladly parted ways with called up after he picked up his payment to smooth things over. He wanted to talk about taking another go at my driveway and walk, and I was completely stymied as to the right response. I'm all for second (third, fourth and beyond) chances, but there was something so off-putting about his work and his reaction to my view of it, I haven't been able to get up the gumption to call him back.

Gumption has been a rare and wonderful thing these days where my own best interests are concerned, so I'm guessing I just don't have it in me to try, try again on behalf of someone else.

Perhaps the right thing to do is to not call him back. I feel that he just isn't a fit for my humble home. As I wrote on the note that accompanied his payment, "Enclosed is your first and last payment, which is probably all for the best for both our sakes."

I think that about sums it up. Besides, I have the another snow remover, one who comes highly recommended by a woman at church, coming by to check out the house. So, here's hoping.

On other fronts, the toilet that resisted repair is now behaving itself, and my favorite home inspector of all time, "Uncle Gordon," came by and gave me a helpful report on the house. Gordon saved Linda and me from any number of bum houses, and is a certified character to boot. When he came by on Saturday, he proudly referred to himself as a Cranky Yankee.

But he's a Cranky Yankee with a soft center, which means he's my favorite type of person (crusty on the outside with a creampuff center). I had him over to provide me with a proper "to do" list for the house, which, for obvious reasons, had been left to its own devices for the past couple of years, and could use some work.

There was good news. I should be able to keep the old siding going for as long as I live here, as long as I give it a proper scrape and patch and paint in the spring and on a regular basis thereafter. Also, the roof may not need to be replaced after all, though I may want to do it if there's only one layer of shingles (if there are two, it's best to drag it out as long as possible, as that's when the job gets expensive).

There was some not-so-good news. I need to get some topsoil and regrade portions of the outside of the house, so the water heads away from the foundation, not toward it. Also, my hot water heater is getting to the age when it could fail spectacularly, and I would be well advised to get a new one sooner rather than later.

And there was some sorta good, sorta not-so-great news. I have had water in the basement near my furnace that was a mystery to me. While Gordon thought at first it was the hot water heater, that wasn't what my handyman thought after doing his own investigation. The handyman thought I had water coming up from under the house, and would need to take some extraordinary (read: expensive) steps to get that to stop.

Gordon, bless him, decided to snoop around inside the furnace, which is a high-efficiency forced hot air type, that due to how it works, creates water. This water is supposed to go down a tube and into a pump that sends it on its merry way, but that apparently hasn't been happening. Instead, water has been dripping down inside of the furnace, and going to the floor, where it has been collecting and occasionally making a mess.

So, my furnace isn't working, but I don't need to have the yard dug up to waterproof the whole house. Happy day!

Never accept never--whether you're a person of color or queer as a $3 bill

Thank you, Dr. King (letter from a Birmingham jail excerpt in honor of today's holiday):

"We know through painful experience that freedom is never voluntarily given by the oppressor; it must be demanded by the oppressed. Frankly, I have yet to engage in a direct action campaign that was 'well timed' in the view of those who have not suffered unduly from the disease of segregation. For years now I have heard the word 'Wait!' It rings in the ear of every Negro with piercing familiarity. This 'Wait' has almost always meant 'Never.' We must come to see, with one of our distinguished jurists, that 'justice too long delayed is justice denied.'"

Rant Alert: Hooray for the half-assed!

Thought I had found just about the perfect person to clear the snow from my driveway and walk. He used a snow throw instead of a truck with a plow, so I didn't have to worry about Linda's carefully-tended yard getting chewed up. He was older-sounding (I never met the man), so assumed he was less likely to flake out (if you'll pardon the expression in this context). And since he did this for a lot of people on a neighboring street (at least that's what he said), I figured he did okay work.

Well, today was his first chance to strut his stuff, and alas, he didn't strut--he stumbled. In fact, he did the sort of half-assed job I'd expect out of a distracted teenager, and that may be an insult to distracted teenagers everywhere. (Sorry, kids.)

Worse, he was offended when I told him what I thought of his work when he called to arrange payment. Somehow, the onus was on me to let him know sooner that he didn't do a proper job.

That sort of thinking makes me crazy. I've come across it before. There are an unfortunate number of people who seem to do as little work as they think they can get away with (he told me he was in a hurry, after all), then leave it to the customer to call them on it if they're not happy. No call, no problem--they bank on people being too busy and/or timid to follow up--and the result is full pay for a job sloppily done.

Hooray for the half-assed!

It certainly didn't help that he huffed ("Well, if only you had called me, I would have come back") and he puffed ("I'd say the job was 99.9% done") and he blew me off, as though I had the problem ("If this is how you're going to be, I'm taking you off my list").

Sigh. Alas, I feel like such a relic when I run up against a member of the Half-Assed Club (HAC). I don't think I'm particularly difficult, but I do have this thing called a work ethic. I would have been embarrassed to have presented the job he did as "done."

Bottom line: If a person has to shovel for 20-30 minutes after you leave, you didn't 99.9% finish, for pity's sake.

Sorry, I just had to get that off my chest, such as it is.

The good news is I have one less HAC to contend with, but now I don't have someone to remove snow. This is not a big deal now, but it will be when I go on vacation for two weeks, and can't do it so the house/pet sitter can tend Shwea.

So, friends, if you or anybody you know could use some extra money (I was going to pay the HAC member $35 per visit), have them get in touch with me.

Here's to being HAC-free for the foreseeable, A

Oil can

Spent the evening just thinking about looking at bathing suits at Lands' End. But I couldn't actually look. Not yet.

Need to be rested, and maybe I also need to have exercised in some way/shape/form before I do it.

Not that I need a little exercise. I need a lot of exercise.

I have, in the parlance, "let myself go." Or, as I've begun saying, "I have expanded my horizons to an alarming degree." Right now, my horizons are on par with those of the Central Plains--a vast expanse with no end in sight, for those geography-challenged among you.

Of course, it's no surprise that this has happened. As you know, I've been through a rough patch lately. And "lately" is since April of 2008, when my gal was diagnosed.

Like far too many people, when the going gets rough, my people get eating.

Not that I overate the whole time, mind you. For most of this time, I ate and exercised I as usually have, mostly. And for part of this patch, I followed a strict food regimen with Linda that consisted of vegetables (mostly carrots and potatoes), flax oil and nonfat yogurt. While that diet kept the weight off, it also turned me an alarming shade of orange.

Looking back, I don't think I really put the feedbag on until a few months before Linda died. And I've kept it on until now.

Not really a good idea, this I know. One downside is that I've become increasingly creaky. I've learned that my carcass needs to move around on a regular basis or I start feeling like the Tin Man when we first meet him in "The Wizard of Oz." After a two-hour meeting at work this morning, a coworker asked me if I was limping, and I had to admit I probably was. After I walk a while I smooth out, but if I've been sitting for a while, it's not pretty.

You should see me first thing in the morning! Come to think of it, you shouldn't.

And no, walking the Bombshell doesn't cut it. She doesn't walk, really. She meanders. And a good meander may be wonderful for contemplation, but it's not exercise.

So, I am going to try to get moving again. Maybe, just maybe, my creakiness will abide. Maybe I'll also be able to look for a swimsuit. We'll see....

See that big juicer down there? It's SOLD!

My dear friend and coworker Jennifer just sold that enormous, expensive and absolutely insanely industrial stainless steel juicer on my behalf. Hooray!!

Jennifer sold it to a nice couple who were interested in Gerson Therapy, even though she also told them the fate of the original owner of said juicer (someone with quite a vested interest in the success of Gerson Therapy, to put it mildly).

To each his/her own, eh?

What a relief! Happy day!

2010 is looking pretty darn good already, wouldn't you say?

Ready as I'll ever be for 2010

Spent the long weekend on retreat with a great bunch of gay, lesbian, trans, straight and undecided sweet peas. Glorious!

As I think I've mentioned before, this was the retreat I met Linda on, so there were a good number of people there who have known Linda longer than I.

There were tears, of course. We also laughed ourselves silly--and not just during the no-talent show, but that was one of the most hilarious things I have seen in a very long time. It felt like a dream, a dream featuring most terrible drag acts ever, performed by dear men who had no business doing drag but who could not care less--they just wanted to have fun, and did they ever. My face hurt from the laughter, and that hasn't happened to me in ages.

And I was able to share about Linda and some of what this past year or so has been like. It was difficult to do, but so freeing--and it was appreciated by people who knew her and by many who didn't. One dear man told me he had wondered who Linda was when he saw how upset people were when they heard about her passing during the last retreat (held just after she died). Due to what I shared during the weekend, he felt as though he knew her a little, and thanked me for it. Felt so very good to hear that.

And the hugs--the glorious, numerous, heart-felt hugs. Best medicine for a broken heart, ever.

So I feel about as ready as one in my shoes can hope to be for 2010--this ought to be good.

In case you were wondering...

This is what the Mother of All Juicers looks like--here's hoping someone finds her devastatingly attractive, eh? (She is a shiny creation, no?)

It's the most heartbreaking time of the year....

Am finding it hard to believe that Christmas is over. Christmas Eve was a beautiful service at church with hugs galore; Christmas morning was spent taking my sweet time getting ready, walking the Bombshell, then visiting Chloe & Isaiah's moms for a bit. The rest of Christmas was spent with my dear friend Jennifer and her beau Scott; we went to the movies ("It's Complicated," a nice piece of fluff, as long as one doesn't contemplate it too long) and then had dinner (Jennifer knows her way around the kitchen, let me tell you!). Sweetness all around.

Speaking of sweetness, during my visit to the under-three set, Chloe said something very dear about my taking good care of Linda to make her better; brought tears to my eyes for a number of reasons. The most tear-inspiring being Chloe's take on things and the fact that my care wasn't enough to save our gal. I know, I know--a number of the best oncologists on the Eastern Seaboard (if not in the entire U.S.) couldn't save our gal either, so there's plenty of ineffectiveness to go around.

Nearly four months out, I am missing Linda more. Found myself in her closet yesterday, gathering an armful of her shirts for an inanimate group hug. Was reassuring, somehow.

Was wondering if I was ready to send her clothes packing yet. I don't think so.

Well, I was going to attempt to load some photos from the camera this afternoon (pictures of the demon juicer, most urgently), so close I must. Before I do, allow me to pass on something a dear colleague at Big Company wrote to me last week. I don't remember it verbatim, but she wrote that after about 20 tries at coming up with the right holiday wish for me, she landed on this: "May your holidays not suck as much as they could."

Works for me. Wishing all that--and more--for you.

Maybe The Comedy will help?

Have signed up for an open mic this Thursday in Palmer. Yes, that's about an hour away from here, but it's not as though there are gadzillions of open mics from which to choose in Northampton, yes?

And I shouldn't complain about that state of affairs unless I'm willing to do something about it, like start up an open mic myself (which is really about as likely as my becoming the Queen of Romania).

The details re Thursday's fun (dare we hope?):

The Route 20 Funnies
Thursday December 17, 2009 @ 8pm
Hosted by Ian Shea and Forris Day Jr.
At Crossroads Sports Bar on Rt 20 in Palmer, MA
crossroadsrt20.com

Otherwise, I have more plans for Christmas (in addition to dinner and movies): Hooray! Still, today at work we had a meeting with a speaker who felt compelled to tell many stories featuring widows. Of course, I work at a business that caters to the widow proposition, so I get it. But I could have lived without hearing so many references to the "w" word, you know?

On other fronts, at tonight's bereavement group we began a "show and tell" series, where members of the group tell the story of their loved one who has recently died. Heartbreaking, but sweet. My turn isn't for two weeks, which is just fine with me. Linda's obituary appeared in today's mail, courtesy of the latest issue of The Lesbian Connection. It was surprisingly jarring to see it, even though I submitted it for publication.

More proof that Linda is no longer here. The desire to shout, "Craptastic!" persists.

Grief Months Three and Four: Things get worse. Hooray!

Had a good weekend, which is no small thing when one has a slight fog bank developing between one's ears.

Friday night was games night at B and D's, and it was good to spend some time with them in a non-funeral or medical environment. Progress! Well, for the most part. For a minute I felt it was a big mistake to be there (have been feeling more down this past week, and didn't know if I could rally to the occasion), but I managed to, again for the most part.

Saturday I took an old friend/coworker from NYC to lunch. She loves all things Dalai Lama, so of course I took her to the Lhasa Cafe. Delicious! Spiritual! What's not to like?!

Saturday night was dinner at H's with said NYC friend as well, and it was good to hang with the old gang. Though I must say, I don't miss the job. At all. The people one works with, however, are always the thing that make a job worth doing, and this job was no exception.

Today was church, of course, and I found myself agreeing to a volunteer gig that starts in March (am hoping I'll feel more like myself by then...or a reasonable facsimile). It was suggested to me years ago to never say no to a service opportunity (though I did say no to something right after Linda passed--I think there are limits to any suggestion, don't you?).

This afternoon I had plans to tackle paperwork, but tackled other things instead. Watched a few episodes of the "Vicar of Dibley" (I think that's how you spell it), a mild British comedy that I love, then put up some new and different pictures in the bedroom and living room, as well as the guest room (which is really Linda's room still). Then, as it was snowing out, I found the need for a nap, and Shwea and I had a short but sweet snooze.

This evening I tackled a recipe that required the use of a food processor. Linda and I resisted the purchase of a food processor for some reason, but why I cannot say. Since I don't remember why, I decided to buy a food processor so I could make this recipe. And other things, I imagine. Eventually.

My maiden voyage with the processor was to make a pesto sauce with almonds and cheese and other lovely things. Miracle of miracles, it actually turned out to be very tasty.

It certainly felt better to eat this than something I ordered by phone or picked up at a restaurant, I'll tell you that. Problem is it took a silly amount of time to make, but at least I have enough of it for a good long while.

Last but not least, I finally took pictures of the enormous juicer that has been taking up about a third of my counter space, and then--this qualifies as yet another miracle--I packed it up in its box and got it ready to go.

So, I may not have tackled paperwork, but I tackled a good number of other things. Happy day! Well, for the most part. I'll take it....

Oh, crap--I forgot to make plans!

It's just beginning to dawn on me that all the plans that Linda and I had are out the window.

I need to make new plans. Not today, thank Whomever, but one o' these days.

Just had a good, relaxing weekend with my brother and sister-in-law in the Delmarva region of the world, aka Lower, Slower Delaware. Wondered if I might want to live down there someday, maybe when I retire. Linda and I always said we wished we lived closer to those crazy kids; maybe that should be part of my new plan.

But then, maybe not. It might be foolish to leave a state that actually considers me a full citizen. (That sigh of relief you hear is coming from my brother.)

Otherwise, I find that I am having more trouble remembering things. This, apparently, is normal for grieving people around three or four months after their dearly beloved slips off the mortal coil, according to a member of my bereavement group.

I'm more forgetful, but it's normal. Hope I remember that next time I forget something.... (Won't pursue that train of thought any further; getting dizzy just contemplating it.)

Better not make plans, either.

I'll probably just forget them, eh?

Back-to-back "firsts"

Went to Cambridge and the Comedy Studio with Jennifer and Scott last night, not to perform, but to watch Jennifer and a host of other comics work their magic (always a treat) and to dip my toe back into the comedy scene I so adore. Asked the dear impresario of the establishment, Rick, if I may be able to get back into the lineup there, and his response was affirmative, followed by a very sweet, "I am so happy to see you smile!"

Ah, comics as sweet peas--it is a recurring, if baffling, theme in this existence. Go figure.

The show was sold out, and but for an extraordinarily drunk group of guys (celebrating one of their number's 40th birthday--there but for the grace o' you-know-who go I), it was a delight. Anyway, as we drove out of Cambridge and were passing through some very familiar terrain, I had the feeling that we should be heading somewhere else. Alas, the events of the past year or so have turned Cambridge from the home of my favorite standup space to a place where Linda and I stayed and/or drove through on our way to MassGeneral.

It occurred to me that this was the first time I had been in Cambridge since Linda passed, and of course it made sense that even though Linda was not with me, I would feel as though I was there for what had become the "usual" reason.

One of my goals for the year 2010 is to return Cambridge to its preferred status as a place I go for comedy and extraordinary Indian food--nothing else, please God.

Found myself having another "first" this afternoon as I wandered through the Open Studio at the Arts and Industry Building in Florence. As I soaked in the incredible variety of art and crafts and things that defy category one finds there, I found myself repeatedly wanting to talk to Linda about what I'd seen. Artists who had changed their work dramatically from years past; new, quirky pieces that might have a place in our home; and if sister-in-law Donna would like a certain item of jewelry. I missed her curiosity and her opinions (which she had in abundance, to put it mildly). I found it very strange to buy something for the living room without her approval, but decided that if it's not still hanging when I get home tomorrow, I'll have my answer.

Odds are she's well past caring what's hanging in our living room, of course, but one never knows.

Well, I have some tidying up to do before the work week starts in earnest. Tomorrow I am going to try out the gym at work. Am wondering why I thought this was a good idea, but am hoping it will make sense tomorrow. We shall see, eh? Love from me and the heavily breathing, not yet snoring, goddess Shwea

Relief is all around us!

Had a very good benefit Thursday night, thanks in large part to the gift that is Jennifer Myszkowski, who opened (for pity's sake!) the show with a moment's notice. (We had two comics bail at the last minute.)

What a trooper! What a friend!!

I felt my set went well, which was a relief. Best of all, I managed to get through it and the Linda bits without getting the least bit weepy. Had a small lump in my throat here and there, but nothing that got in the way of The Comedy.

Plus, we made a good chunk o' change for the Cancer Connection, which, of course, was the point.

And as far as I know, I still have my job (the head of my department at Big Company was in the audience, which added a level of danger in my mind--here's hoping it was all in my mind, eh? 8-). While I mention my years of substance abuse, I also mention that this "phase" ended about 20 years ago, so I should be fine.....right?

Right?!

Whatever, thanks to all who supported this most incredible cause!

Yesterday I met with another CPA, who I actually understood. She offered some advice that I acted upon as soon as I returned home, which I took as a very good sign. (Ann Podolske is not usually a Woman of Action where finances are concerned.)

That's another big pile of relief, for I know I need someone to navigate Linda's returns for 2009 (and that someone certainly isn't yours truly!).

Last night, I had the pleasure of going out to dinner at India House with Sky and Karen and other peeps, followed by THE lesbian event in town, a movie. It was called "Hannah Free," and featured Sharon Gless in what I think is her only official lesbian role (I say "official," for many of us thought she had tremendous potential in "Cagney & Lacey"). The film was okay, and alas there were some sad bits that inspired me to dab at my eyes (what's a girl to do?), but the best part was seeing the Academy of Music packed to the gills with women wearing sensible shoes (with, I should note, a smattering of menfolk).

This morning I had brunch with my friend Hilary at Elmer's in Ashfield--what a delightful spot! Also enjoyed a tour of Hilary's new home, which suits her just beautifully. She generously sent me home with a mirror/coat rack that will work perfectly in my living room, but doesn't fit in her home. What a peach!

Well, my next trick is to have a nap, as this rainy, gray day is tailor-made for such important business. Hope all is well with you and yours--happy day and love from me and the Buzzsaw Bombshell!

Laughs for Linda on Thursday!

In case I missed telling you this somehow, we're having a comedy benefit on Thursday, Nov. 12 at the Bluebonnet Diner. It starts at 8:00 p.m., tickets are $10, and all proceeds go to the Cancer Connection.

Disclaimer: No matter what happens on stage, the cause is just. I say this only because I and my comedy cohorts intend to be funny, but as the benefit is called "Laughs for Linda," there is a slight chance it might be a weepy night for some of us.

Some of us would be me.

I have been known to weep at the sight of Tower Square (site of Linda's former office), people, so chances are I may emit a tear or two.

On other fronts, I still haven't heard from the COMCAST rep who responded to my "COMCASTIC? You be the judge!" post. Apparently, Linda's name will remain on the bill until I drag my carcass and a death certificate to their offices. As every other vendor/utility/you-name-it that had Linda's name on it allowed me to assume the bills WITHOUT A PEEP, I think it will be a very chilly day you-know-where before I jump through COMCAST's widow-unfriendly hoops.

Am seriously considering cancelling my COMCAST and living off of Netflix for a while. What do you think?

I get my knickers in a knot over the darndest things, don't I? (No need to answer that.) Well, I could get in a high fever over the Democrats throwing Choice out the window to get health care for everyone (except ladies who need abortions) through the House, but where would that get me?

It's become clear to me that ladies who need abortions are about as expendable as members of the GLBT clan in the political scheme of things, and as someone who has fit into both of those categories over the sweep of my long and occasionally befuddling existence, I need to not take this all to heart.

But I can't help it if I find the need to slam down the phone every time the Democratic Party calls for money, because, well, that's just me exercising my right to not give money to people who throw people like me under the bus on a regular basis.

And now that I have a full lather on, I need to go wind down before bed. Wish me luck!

Thoughts and prayers

Received a sweet condolence card today from a neighbor who wrote a wonderfully (if unintentionally) insightful note.

To wit: "I am so sorry for your loss; you are thoughts and prayers."

Thinking about it, I am thoughts and prayers--that sums up my modus operandi these days quite nicely.

Did quite a bit of thinking and praying this weekend, as I did end up going to Ptown after all. Either I was feeling better or was I not sick enough to let almost $400 go down the drain--can't rightly tell you. (Feel almost completely humanoid today, in case you were wondering.) The drive there was smooth and easy, while the drive back was a slow, numbing bore--until I got off the Cape itself.

While I do enjoy the ocean and a terrifically GLBT-friendly environment as much as the next queer, I found all the rest and serenity I accumulated over the weekend sorely tested by the tedium of covering the 4.8 miles before the Borne Bridge in about an hour-and-a-half.

It irritates me that the memory of the terrible traffic is almost more pronounced than that of the dear friends, old and new, I met over the weekend.

So no, I won't be heading back to Ptown any time soon, but I do hope I get to see the old friends again--they're in NYC these days, a much easier place to get to and from--and soon.

Last night, I went to an enormous fund-raiser for a tremendous non-profit that drew every liberal for miles, or so it seemed. The organization is led by one of Chloe's moms, so I was there to support her and her family; they've been oh so very good to us, after all. It was all very interesting and motivational, until after the speeches were done and I noticed that one of the many people milling about included one of Linda's oncologists. That threw me for a loop, as seeing her sparked a sort of hyperspeed slide show in my head, followed by a sinking feeling in my stomach. (Am grateful I didn't have any appetizers, I'll tell you that!). That was followed by another one of my sudden, but short (thank God) public cries. Thankfully, the people who were seated next to me knew my story, and they were very sweet.

Ah, the sweetness makes it so much easier. Well, easier isn't really the word. Less difficult?

Today I went back to the marble halls, and had a pretty good day, considering I found myself talking about Linda's last days with someone I've worked with a time or two. It felt very good to talk about it, and better still to have another person validate my feelings on how Linda left this life. It was terrible, true, but it was beautiful. It was an honor and a privilege to have supported and been witness to her journey, and I hope my brain will allow me to keep the memories and feelings alive for as long as I live.

Well, that's enough for a Monday, I dare say. Love from me and the--three guesses--snoring sweetness, aka Shwea

Pride goeth before the fall....

Just the other day, I was thinking about how remarkably healthy I've been, considering all of the cold sufferers in my midst in the marble halls at Big Company. We've had a regular "1812 Overture" of sneezes and coughs in my department this week, thanks in part to it being busy season and in part to people not having the sense God gave geese. (We can work from home now, people. It's company policy, for pity's sake.)

The second I thought that, I also thought, "Crap, now you've done it. You're going to get sick." Then I tried to think positively, starting a mantra along the lines of, "I am healthy and free of all sickness."

So much for that.

Yesterday afternoon, I was in the marble halls and found myself having what felt like a major allergy attack. Alas, it was the sudden onset of a head cold, and I stayed home today, spending many hours decimating my household Kleenex population.

One of the many implications of this cold is that I may be out of a chunk of change, as I had reserved a room in a nice B&B in Provincetown this weekend. If you're familiar with the cancellation policies of B&Bs in Provincetown, you know that they require much more lead time (21 days, in my case) for cancellations than a cold allows.

Sigh.

I asked the proprietors of the B&B to see if they could find a new tenant for the weekend. Here's hoping! (If you are suddenly compelled to go to Ptown, allow me to recommend the room called "Three Sisters" at the White Porch Inn. It's a beaut!)

Of course, I could feel all better by tomorrow. It could happen. Maybe?

This appears to be a week for such things. On Tuesday, I had a plumber over to fix the outside faucet that wouldn't shut off, and he found that the main shutoff valve for the entire house didn't work. In a word: Yikes! So, the City and the plumber are coming back tomorrow to fix that.

Ain't we got fun?

Also on Tuesday, my monitor went black. It had been flickering here and there, but it went really, truly black. So, I called the local techies I like (Tech Cavalry), and one of their guys came by. The monitor was beyond fixing, alas, and I had to buy a new one.

You can't say I'm not doing my part for the local economy.

Well, I think it's now getting close to time to go back to bed, in the hopes I can coax this cold right outta my carcass in time for the weekend.

Doubtful, but a gal can dream, can't she? Hope you're all well (but don't gloat about it!) and happy. Love, Ann and the Bombshell (who asked me to add that she is very happy her person stayed home today instead of going to work).

Another multi-day post of preposterous proportion

My, I have been busy. (Warning: Am going to try to remember what's been going on from memory, so odds are good something will be lost/mangled in the shuffle.)

Wednesday night I went to a farewell dinner for a colleague who was "reorganized" out of a job. Was very touched to see how many people came from the office to bid her adieu.


Have been "reorganized" in the past, so have much compash for my former cohort. She's doing her own revival of the Unsinkable Molly Brown, bless her heart, and I am sure that attitude will serve her well in the months to come. (If she's even footloose and fancy free that long.)


Thursday night was the caregiver support group, which I am still attending. Began to wonder early in the meeting this Thursday whether I should still be part of it, but by meeting's end I was able to offer some helpful info to a couple of the newbies in the group, so maybe I am being of service. It helps me to listen to everyone, to bear witness and to think, "Linda had that happen, too," or "I ran into the same thing with Dr. X," so I guess I'll keep going until they need my spot for someone else.


Friday during the day I had lunch with then sat with a friend at Baystate while her sweetie had a mastectomy. It was good to have a chance to babble (neatly keeping her preoccupied--slick, eh?) and to be able to do unto others as others have so kindly done unto me and my gal. Happily, the news from the surgeon was good, and I took notes for my friend as she made her post-op pronouncements (for if my experience is any indication, one cannot retain a thing said by someone who has operated on one's sweetie, particularly when she is still wearing her scrubs).

That night I did very little (if memory serves), and enjoyed sleeping in Saturday morning a lot. Shwea let me, too, which was mighty nice of her. After breakfast and Her Highness's walk were out of the way, I went after the no-longer-glorious morning glories in the front yard. Thanks to the bitter cold, their magnificent blooms and leaves had all wilted--over the shrubs in front of the house, over the "tepee" Linda bought expressly for their growing pleasure, and over the fence on the side of the yard (where the heart formed). It took some clipping and pulling, but I unearthed all of the dearly departed glories, put the fence back in an upright position, and now things look much nicer.

As I did this job, I found myself wondering if I was doing it "right" (i.e., how Linda would do it 8-). Linda has not been forthcoming, which I take as a good sign. If I was mucking things up terribly, she'd let me know somehow, of this I am certain.

Saturday afternoon I went to a coffee for Mayor Higgins, who is running for another two-year term (she's served 10 years altogether). Her opponent is running a rather thin campaign, but it's been fairly successful, for the mayor has been in office long enough to have P.O.'d a number of very vocal (and occasionally rude) people. She neatly debunked or thoroughly addressed all of the official criticisms of her work to date. Some of the unofficial arguments against the mayor are rather hilarious--one being that it's time to get rid of the queers in the mayor's office. Problem with that is her opponent is a gay man, which is something he's been very, very quiet about. Some of his supporters appear to be of the "Keep Your Government Hands Off My Medicare!" persuasion, so he's just being sensible, I suppose.

Saturday night I went with some friends to dinner and a GLBT international film festival at the high school (ah, if only my high school had such events...sigh). It was fun, if overlong (I was up well past 10:30--yikes!). Sunday I did manage somehow to get to church (late, of course), and enjoyed the service and my church family enormously. We added some new members today, which is always cheering, and very, very sweet.

This afternoon I took a ride out to the cottage to retrieve water cooler-size bottle of water I left out there for some strange reason. Good thing, for it was 30 degrees inside the cottage and it had begun to snow. Yes, snow. I swept all the leaves and slush off the deck, but otherwise just picked up the water and got out of there before the weather got even sillier. It's only about an hour away, but boy, the weather is different--and not in a good way this time of year. I also made a trip to the local outlet mall, as I can't help myself. Picked up some more work clothes, since I need to appear in the marble halls more often these days.

Now I must pack it up and move it out--it's getting late (for me), and tomorrow is Monday, alas. Before I close, I should note that tonight my friends Val and Joan made a very interesting proposition regarding vacationing together in early 2010, and it might fall under the heading of "What are you waiting for?!" Some details need to be worked out, but I will let you know if I take them up on their kind, kind offer. We shall see, sweeties! Love, Ann and the Snoring Wonderdog

It's that--bam!--time of the year

How did it get to be Tuesday? Time and I are not on speaking terms, apparently. It appears I may be taking on a volunteer gig at church that entails being able to read the calendar and various scheduling duties. This may be a stretch for me, as I couldn't figure out which month was the next to have five Sundays.

Maybe it's a math thing, which I never understood. But perhaps I drag that ol' shortcoming out when it doesn't really apply. (A 50-year-old who can't read the calendar is likely challenged by more than math.)

Does grief reduce one's I.Q.? If so, I could be in serious trouble, folks, for as many of you know, I also have, to my discredit, a less-than-brilliant drinking career, which didn't do much for my memory banks.

Is it time to start labeling my furniture and appliances?

Okay, perhaps I'm getting ahead of myself here, but I do worry.

Let's talk about happier things, shall we? Yesterday was one of those freakishly "on" days I have about once every six years or so. (Or so it feels lately.) I was able to get to work early for a women's leadership event (i.e., we had a speaker and free breakfast--sign me up!), then proceeded to take care of several pieces of business in short order. Last night, to top it all off, I went to the local staging of the second phase of The Laramie Project (don't recall it's "official" name, sorry). It was wonderful, it was long, it was sad, it was important. And I knew some of the performers, which always makes things more fun and interesting.

Today, though, I had a productivity-related hangover of some sort. I could barely crawl out of bed and take care of the Bombshell in time to take my car in for its 1,000 mile checkup (well, 1,400 miles, thanks to this weekend's trip) at 8 a.m.

After that, I found it very hard to get anything really, completely done. Started, on its way, but done? Nope. Even tried doing a load of laundry, to try to get something accomplished, but then I killed the washer (or it committed suicide; it's really hard to say). It just died, while I was on the phone with my manager (of course), and it is only a little over three months old. Let's hear it for Consumer Reports!

A little while after that happened, a bird flew right into one of the panes of the large bay window in the living room. Ah, it's that time of year again, when all the birds congregate on our dogwood trees to eat the red berries that proliferate now. I don't know if some of the birds have too many berries to fly safely, or they get too excited by the bounty, or what's impairing my feathered friends, but every dogwood berry season (if there is such a thing), a bird or two flies into our living room window. No one has been seriously hurt, I'm happy to report, but it is quite jarring to hear the sound of bird meeting glass. Bam!

Well, one of today's good pieces of news is tomorrow I get to stay home to work again. The repair people at Sears (thankfully, my washer is under warranty) committed to be here sometime between 8 and 5--isn't that helpful? Almost COMCASTIC, say I.

Speaking of the cable company who belongs in the Red Tape Hall of Shame, today I finished changing all of the remaining bills that had Linda's name on them to mine, and not ONE of these providers required me to come in to an office, a la COMCAST. They didn't even ask for a copy of Linda's death certificate. They just DID it.

I braced myself for trouble when I called Verizon, for I had to cancel Linda's cell phone (completely forgot about that). Knowing how loathe cell phone companies are to lose customers, I thought I might have a struggle on my hands, but there was none. They asked if anyone might want her account and number, but that was about it. Sweet.

So, COMCAST is still leading the Puddin'head Parade as far as yours truly is concerned. They did make me appreciate my other service providers, I will give them that--as a result of their preposterous policies, I was moved to thank each rep I spoke to today who made the name change with ease for making my life that much easier.

One last thing before I'll stop and spare you for today. Late this afternoon, I had to stop in at our attorney's office to sign something and drop off a check. On the way there, I saw a cute couple of young gals walking down Market Street holding hands, and it gave me a pang. Even though Linda and I were never quite cute, nor were we young very long, we did hold hands. Sigh.

This has been a heck of a day, in other words, and after writing this all out, I'm just tuckered. Shwea, of course, is well on her way to Dreamland, and I will be there soon. Good night, friends. Love from me and the Bombshell

Road trip tested!

Took my new wheels for their maiden "voyage" today, down to Cold Spring, NY to visit Father John and his missus. Until old age and infirmity made travel impossible, Fr. John was the leader of the spiritual retreats Linda and I used to go to in Connecticut (we met at one, too, as many of you know). The Padre is still a nut, which is something I like in my spiritual guides (naturally).

Also got to spend some time with a merry band of New Yorkers who also descended upon his home today, all people I have been on retreat with at one time or another. Such vibrant, loving, witty people--and very sweet about my gal (she would have loved today's excursion, and I thought of her often--esp. when someone said something slightly scandalous). Did me a world of good to see them all, and I am looking forward to getting back in the retreat swing of things as soon as I can.

Well, we had a small banquet of church food, for lack of a better way to put it--casseroles, potato salad, baked beans, the gamut. After that, we needed a walk, so we went to a local tourist destination called Boscobel, which featured a mansion, gardens and a breathtaking view of the Hudson River, including West Point. It was so gorgeous, I just sat and soaked it all in while my friends wandered through the gardens (I've seen a lot of gardens; stunning views of the Hudson? Not so much). It was the sort of spot that cries out for either painting or photography, and the latter was happening a lot--two large wedding parties had their photos taken while we were there.

What a sweet day! I not only had a grand time with my peeps in Cold Spring and taking in the sights, my new car was a joy to drive on this long-ish trip, esp. once I figured out how to turn up the volume of the nice lady who gives directions (she was so quiet, I could only hear her with the music off--that's just no way to drive!). The trip was almost three hours each way, and it went very, very smoothly. Might have to schedule a drive down to D.C. next--we shall see....

In case you're wondering, Shwea was taken care of quite beautifully by her primary during-the-week sitter while I was off joy riding. She acted as though I had been gone days, not hours, when I first arrived, but is now back in default snore mode. Methinks I should get to my own default mode soon, as I have church tomorrow and a bit of work to tend to, now that my roadtrip is behind me--but what a hoot it was!

Ain't gonna study war no more, indeed

What a day this has been! The name-change issue is still up in the air with our friends at the [name unmentioned for fear they'll post again--that was a little spooky] cable company, but I managed to have a good day of work anyway.

Just got back from joining Karen and Sky at a--get this--Holly Near concert in town. Am so glad I said "Yes" to this notion. At 60, Holly's voice is even better than I remember it (though don't ask me when I last heard her), and she is a wonderfully accessible performer. To top it all off, she has a good sense of humor, so we were all charmed, I'm sure. (Of course we were; the room was 99.4% dykesaurus.)

And I only cried once, which was far better than I thought I'd do (I cried at a "Retire Well" seminar at work this week when the word "spouse" was trotted out one time too many for my comfort, for pity's sake). With this recent history, I worried that a Holly Near concert would be a veritable minefield of Kleenex opportunity. The killer was when she asked how many women in the audience were married, and I found myself on the horns of a dilemma. Linda and I were married, true, but we're not technically married any more, if I recall the "till death us do part" business correctly. That said, I still feel married, which is why I'll be wearing my civil union/wedding ring for a good while.

Seeing my discombobulation at this query, Karen and Sky were kind enough to pat me and hand me a tissue. Such sweet peas, those two!

Now I'm back home, listening to Shwea snore (how unusual, eh?), and it sounds just wonderful. Might be joining her soon, and should, as I may be heading off on a wee adventure tomorrow. Have a little catch in my throat, though, so I'm going to wait and see how I feel in the morning. Am hoping it's just due to allergies, my mini-weep and/or my singing along with Holly (it can't be helped).

We shall see...

Comcastic? You be the judge!

The following exchange transpired via chat, which I turned to when my call to COMCAST was cut off after being on hold a minute or two:

Ann(Fri Oct 9 10:28:35 EDT 2009)>My spouse, Linda Small, is the name on our account number X. She passed away on 9/4/09, and I want to change the name on the account to mine. Thanks for your help, A
analyst Michel has entered room
Michel(Fri Oct 9 10:29:08 EDT 2009)>Hello Ann_, Thank you for contacting Comcast Live Chat Support. My name is Michel. Please give me one moment to review your information.
Michel(Fri Oct 9 10:29:09 EDT 2009)>hw.
Michel(Fri Oct 9 10:29:10 EDT 2009)>How are you today?
Ann_(Fri Oct 9 10:29:24 EDT 2009)>Okay, thanks.
Michel(Fri Oct 9 10:30:04 EDT 2009)>Okay, Ann. I see here that you want to change the name on the account X.
Michel(Fri Oct 9 10:30:06 EDT 2009)>I can definitely understand your issue. But do not worry, I would do my best to help you with that.
Michel(Fri Oct 9 10:30:08 EDT 2009)>I am now pulling up your account. This may take a couple of minutes.
Ann_(Fri Oct 9 10:30:22 EDT 2009)>Okay
Michel(Fri Oct 9 10:32:56 EDT 2009)>Okay, Linda. I am now documenting your request here in your account.
Michel(Fri Oct 9 10:32:57 EDT 2009)>Can you please give me a couple of minutes while I process this for you.
Michel(Fri Oct 9 10:33:07 EDT 2009)>Ann*
Ann_(Fri Oct 9 10:33:35 EDT 2009)>Sure--and yes, my name is Ann. 8-)
Michel(Fri Oct 9 10:33:48 EDT 2009)>Yes, I am very sorry about that, Ann.
Ann_(Fri Oct 9 10:34:07 EDT 2009)>It happens a lot, not to worry.
Michel(Fri Oct 9 10:35:54 EDT 2009)>Okay, Ann. I am done posting your request here in your account. However, to finalize this process you would need to go to our Local Office, so that we could further verify security and validate your request. This is to ensure that no unauthorized changes will be made in the account. Just bring any valid ID or any documents that will support your request. As for your order/request/concern, everything is on the right track and you can consider it resolved.
Ann_(Fri Oct 9 10:36:59 EDT 2009)>I need to go to an office? This is the first time a vendor has required this step!
Michel(Fri Oct 9 10:39:42 EDT 2009)>Yes, Ann. Because we could not verify information here online. The security of your account is our primary concern that is why you would need to go there to finalize the change of name. But no need to wory everything is on the right track and you can consider it resolved.
Ann_(Fri Oct 9 10:40:32 EDT 2009)>So, Linda's name will be on the bill until I go to an office. Would I need to go to an office to cancel the account, too?
Michel(Fri Oct 9 10:41:33 EDT 2009)>For cancellation no need to go to the local office, Ann. You can just call our Cancellation Department at 1-800-266-2278
Ann_(Fri Oct 9 10:43:35 EDT 2009)>Well, it might be easier to cancel the account than change the name on it--that's not a good business model, to put it mildly. I suggest your management consider letting people in my position send in a copy of the death certificate and spare us trips to offices for things that can be handled much more easily. I am seeing CPAs, financial planners and attorneys in the wake of my partner's death--now I need to go see Comcast? It's silly!
Michel(Fri Oct 9 10:45:55 EDT 2009)>Okay, Ann. I will provide you with a work around for you request.
Michel(Fri Oct 9 10:46:08 EDT 2009)>I am still finding another way to fix this for you./
Michel(Fri Oct 9 10:46:10 EDT 2009)>Can you please give me a couple of minutes while I process this for you.
Ann_(Fri Oct 9 10:46:30 EDT 2009)>Sure--I have a phone meeting at 11, however.
Michel(Fri Oct 9 10:49:03 EDT 2009)>Okay, Ann. This is the contact details for our Local office nearest in your area.
Michel(Fri Oct 9 10:49:05 EDT 2009)>Center Name: Northampton Address: 71 Bradford StNorthampton MA 01060 Phone Number: 800-266-2278 Hours: Mon-Wed 9:00am-5:00pm,Thur 10:00am-5:00pm,Fri 9:00am-5:00pm 24hr drop box available
Michel(Fri Oct 9 10:49:35 EDT 2009)>You can try to contact them to see if you can fax the documents at the local office.
Michel(Fri Oct 9 10:51:03 EDT 2009)>But this is not an assurance that the local office could process your request, Ann. Since local office policy varies per market.
Ann_(Fri Oct 9 10:53:03 EDT 2009)>Okay, need to go. One last thing: It took me two minutes on the phone to change the name on my Bay State Gas account. Really, really unnecessary, and I hope you pass this along. I understand you are limited by your management, however, and wish you well. Ann
Michel(Fri Oct 9 10:53:25 EDT 2009)>I sincerely apologize about this, Ann. I will note your feedback here in your account.
Michel(Fri Oct 9 10:54:10 EDT 2009)>Have I solved your issue today, Ann by posting your request here in your account and by providing your with another possible way to finalize your request?
Ann_(Fri Oct 9 10:55:24 EDT 2009)>Not really, but I realize it's the system, not you. Please pass this along so that the next widow who is just trying to avoid the heartache of seeing her spouse's name on a bill doesn't have to jump through hoops to make it stop.
Michel(Fri Oct 9 10:55:45 EDT 2009)>Yes, Ann. I will certainly do that for you.

Cranky combo-platter #4,567

Since the Full Moon (aka the first-month anniversary of Linda's passing), I have noticed myself a little less than charitably inclined towards life's little irritations and irritants. Okay, I've been cranky. So cranky, I am beginning to wonder if a pair or two of Linda's contrary underwear were part of my inheritance.

I even dropped an F-bomb earlier today--no, make that two. Of course, it is a rare day when a gal manages to get twisted up in her dog's leash and spills half a cup of hot coffee on her pants while picking up dog doo. Definitely merited a twofer in the "bomb" category, I'd say.

Perhaps it's the pressure from work (note to self: next time you have to take leave for any reason, try not to come back from said leave during the height of busy season and/or after a layoff, okay?). Perhaps it was my need to discuss money matters more than once this week (though I met with a financial person today who seems very promising, I'm happy to note). Perhaps it's just grief, or sorrow, or just big, fat sadness taking on a cranky guise.

This is probably not a multiple choice matter. Yet another combo-platter, I'm guessing. Sigh.

Yes, I am functioning, but not at 100%. Am getting "must dos" done, but not much else. That is going to have to do for now, and if anybody doesn't like it, he or she is just going to have to [fill-in-your-favorite-physical-insult-here].

Thank God for friends, for sweetness, for Shwea. For God, too, for that matter (he/she/it finds me very amusing, from what I can see).

Oh well, that's something, eh?