Going Solo- babysitter is sick on a day I get chemo

It happens now and again when your support help system breaks down. My babysitter has called in sick, and my au-pair has a full study rooster.

I truly believe I have the strength to “go Solo” today. I just have to take it easy and buy take out after my chemo treatment today.  Our hospital supplies free daycare while you are getting your treatment. The kids have an indoor race track and 4 wheel bikes with a steering wheel. They don’t even notice the time, because they are having so much fun.

I am reassured that my child is getting special attention while I am getting my chemo. The key is to be done with chemo before they close at 4:30pm.  With a 2 pm appointment that my hubby cannot attend ( we usually get a lunch appointment.) I am racing against the clock today. Worse case scenario is that I have to ask someone from my department to ride the elevator with me and help me pick up my child while still attached to my drip / intravenous pole.

I don’t believe I have ever let my little girl see me attached to the pole, but I do believe she is old enough to realize I am sick and can handle the shock of seeing the medicine in liquid form. She has already seen me give myself a shot and has adjusted to that situation as being normal.

So taking it easy is the theme, order take out chinese and eat pancakes for lunch at the hospital. It’s a plan.

A meant to be- free will or fate

Philosophers discuss free will or fate all the time, but I am on the fence about whether my sickness or my daily routine was my fate. But yesterday two thing reminded me that maybedefinately God is playing a roll in my life. This is how it began, and how it was confirmed.

Any time we are off plan in my life, wonderful, God-driven things happen to me. Preschool was cancelled due to a medical emergency of the teacher’s kid, broken leg was the rumor. Plan B was to go to TUNFUN which is an indoor playground only until my princess’ little gym lesson. But before we knew it the time passed us by and there was really know justifiable reason to be late to the gym, so I called it off. That very instant a couple with two children come into our area with the soft benches and tells the mother in english “Look Mommy :she is sewing. The mothers in unison say “it’s knitting”. Well it does not take long for a conversation about America and what are you doing in Amsterdam occurs. While my student/nanny gets an icecream for my child we settle in to find her boy is as active as my little 3yrold girl. Next thing we know they are like two monkeys, and mine has him in a head lock, and later … he has her in a half nelson. Neither of them seem to mind the rough play. Thank you God for high pain tolerance that she inherited from me.

Then the man got down to actual questions.  Do you know of a good realestate firm? Where can I get a decent hair cut for under 50$,  There is no Supercuts in Amsterdam, 20 Euros is the going rate. I gave him a few websites to get him looking for housing and the  name of my friend who is a realestate broker and a good physical therapist.

I believe it was truly meant to be that we meet because of us being not diligent about the time frame and staying the rest of the day at the TunFun. We even exchanged a good icecream store not far from our house.

How do I know this was fate? Here is my confirmation. I went on the internet to check my e-mails, with the intention of inviting them to do something again on Thursday or Friday.  I also quickly checked my blog to see an entry that had been “mis-scheduled”.  It was about a piece of blog that should have occurred before, and I guess my finger hit between the 2 an the 3 making a 23 instead of a 3 for the date of posting.

This post would have just been ignored… But the confirmation is that We received a mail for another position from the Queen, just as my blog had predicted would happen that day. Both my Nanny and I got the chills. You may philosophize until the cows come home, but I believe to day was a fate day- a meant to be day. A celestine prophecy kind of day.

breast cancer and an appointment with Mommy

Our schedules are in full swing and last week I only hand minutes between my husband running in an out of meeting times, that last until mid night on many occasions.  So I have incorporated the appointment with Mommy. My grocery store was giving out two-for cards.( Two for the price of one cards to the movies).

We went to see Accidental Husband, which was light and was definitely a chick flick, but I could not handle the action adventures that were playing. Since I am in admiration for Colin Firth it was any easy choice.  A light comedy seemed fine to me.  But what I was not prepared for was the public filth, I immediately woke up this morning with a sore throat and hacking. I am canceling all unimportant events and drinking herbal tea. I think every cancer patient needs to know when to play it safe and stay inside.

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conservative upbringing rearing ugly face

I had two classes to choose from both on Friday morning before my love-bug gets home from play school. My hubby had two telephone numbers ready for me, urging me to get out from behind the computer and do something I love.  painting and portrait sketching. So with my new found freedom I take the number of the place where I am familiar with the area and how to travel to the class. I have become increasing aware that I am an easy target as a handicapped person, and my little red car is like a big red flag saying, kick me. So I know this place has a undercover garage and I call.

Shocked to hear the teacher on the line not a admin. I say I did a gig of portrait by a school www.mk24.nl and the teacher gets all bubbly. He then warns me that the models are primarily naked and I start to choke down my next few words. My conservative upbringing rears it’s ugly little head.  I say to myself, this is art,you are above such things. You  have seen more medical horrors than a naked person. But truly I say to you I have yet to loose my shy inner-core. I directly try to change topic asking what is required of me to bring, he retorts, a pencil sharpener and pencil and any size sketch pad that I am comfortable with. The sketch pad I am comfortable with, but it is what I will be required to sketch will take a bit of getting use to.

I am pushing my envelope again and enjoying the opportunity to do so. Life is too short to sit behind the computer screen.

door closes window open saga continues

My cleaning lady of over 7 years, shows up to my house exhausted. Just physically drained. This is a familiar and recognizable look to any cancer patient.  She tells me she is tired in her sweet loving Ghana’s accent. I ask her to go home and rest. First a cup of tea to think it over, and she agreed she needed to go home and rest. I can really tell the difference when my house is not clean, but a persons health is way more important than a fresh bathroom smell.  So off she went for some R&R. ( military term for rest and relaxation)

 But before she left she had heard my plight of trying to find a new girl. She suggested I call on Z. Z is like a relative from the old country… there is a branch of our family back in Croatia, ex-Yugoslavia that we just don’t know. For me she fills that family gap. She cooks amazing ethnic food, yes fatty but fantastic.  She brings me back to my roots. 

Wouldn’t you know it, she answers my call on the first ring and agrees on the spot to come back and baby sit/ help cook and clean up. I am so thrilled beyond measure. I scratch out  some potential dates on a small piece of 3m sticky paper and we are off and running again, Thursdays with potential Friday afternoons and Monday early evenings, for that late afternoon rush to cook clean up, bath and bed.

Our first day back wth Z goes good.  I need to go shopping for art supplies and find myself from the direction of Z in an Aldi which gives me a feeling of being home in an American supermarket. We head off to the church to light a candle, and to teach a 3 year old about prayer followed by a children’s petting zoo, and then I moved on to do some further shopping, waving goodbye  to my love-bug and our trusted friend Z.

At the end of the day … life is worth living. Thanks to a wonderful suggestion from a lady from Ghana.

A Door closes, a window opens

You have not heard of this expression? I seem to be living it right now. I live life in balance, the good with the bad.  I got sat down yesterday by my Art History student Nanny to tell me she has too difficult a student rooster. The funny thing is I just increased her pay making my bank account a bit thin. No extra ice cream today. And then came the news that  will get a wonderful little compensation for blogging.  IE. making up for the loss in pay.

I now have to find a new au-pair until January 18th when my summer au-pair comes back from Michigan, or start asking around. I e-mailed a bakers dozen of potential aupairs from profiles I had stuffed in a drawer since summer. To my dislike, no one at this moment has responded. I think I am willing to find a local girl to help between diner, a bath and bed. Some one who will do a quick vacuum and clean up the dinner plates, bending down is still problematic for this cancer patient. For those who saw me take a header into a church pew during rehearsal of my brother’s wedding, you know I am not in any way shape or form – exaggerating.

So I am scrambling to find a new girl since the one who was coming back is not. I had my trusted au-pair from the great state of Wisconsin tell me her exchange program to China has dried up and she has to finish her masters immediately, now, by Dec. My heart sinks every time she says it is not working the way she planned. Now I hope that when this door for her closes, that a window soon opens.

Stop wearing white? nonsense

My little love bug was trying to convince me she could wear white shoes in September. What does a 3 year old know about fashion rules, do and don’t.  I live a less stringent life now and I am a big push over if she remembers to say please. 

When I got to the waiting room of the hospital I had to laugh because there was at least 3 women still wearing white from head to toe. There is no need to scold your kid into old fashion ways. Live and let live is the new motto for this cancer patient.

Today I have something to live for. My tumor marker is was 77. Down from 92, and I am enjoying life like never before.  When the girls asked about their presents that I gave them, asking me what the occasion is …I simply stated that it was the beginning of my 3rd year of chemo. Shocking everyone in the room.  I did not say if for the shock effect, but for the unbelievable care I have received so far. Can you even have imaged that this could happen? It’s unheard of!

What a big day we had

Just getting warmed up in the waiting room. I hope she can follow the instructions. She did well for such a short half hour of time playing follow the leader. The instructor talked in English the majority of the time, forcing my little one to concentrate on every word. These moments give me great joy, I must have taken 6 or 7 videos to let Daddy see what a big day we had at Ballet school.

Confronted with my cancer via the telephone

I know my General Practice Doc is not the best, but the telephone call I got from his office today really confronted me.  His assistant, who apparently does not read the files of the patients before calling for a screening.  Apparently every 5 years, after the age of the magic number 40, do you get screened in Holland for cancer of the uterus.

First of all I could not believe she is telling me I have to come in for a screening to check if I have cancer. I say, pardon, I am not a native speaker… She explains that I did not fill out some silly survey and with out a signature I MUST have an examination. I said wait a minute I HAVE cancer already and it is in my body from head to toe. Why do I need to be screened? She does not even back pedal. She just goes no with her little speech about every 5 years, and when is convenient for an appointment etc. etc. I almost hang up on her, but I explained, I am not coming into the office to sign a paper releasing me from some stupid screening when I have the sickness already, and I am at stage 4 already.  I say bluntly: “There is not stage 5 unless you consider death a stage”. After that statement, she comes to her senses and says she will call the screening agency and straighten out the matter. Thanks me for my time and quickly hangs up. oops! What a blunder.