12of12 | may

Is it just me or has blogger been unavailable since last night? Glad we're back on track. :)


[click here to enlarge]

01. Slept in til 7:30am. The surgery I had Wednesday took more of a toll on me then I thought. In fact this was the first 12of12 that I had a hard time doing—my camera is too heavy for my weak back.
02. This is one of my favorite flowering trees in my yard—I’m patiently waiting for it to bloom. Almost there.
03. Bella’s morning violin practice. Isn’t that lovely light at 7:30am?
04. Girls on their way to school
05. Tess reading with Megan before school
06. Had lunch with one of my favorite people, Eryn. Excited she’ll be in town for a few more months.
07. The weather has been so beautiful today. Enjoyed sometime outside waiting for my girls to walk home.
08. Girls enjoying a Creamie after school
09. Documenting the bandage that takes up half my back. I had a mole removed yesterday that was “severe atypical” and was on its way to being melanoma. If you haven’t been to the dermatologist lately make an appointment. Now.
10. On my nightstand
11. Tulips found on a walk in the avenues with Amy. Tulips are a novelty to me. Since it’s on the top of the deers “to eat list” no one in our neighborhood has them.
12. Watching the sun set over the capital. Unfortunately my battery died so my iphone had to take over.

So like I said, it was kind of a weird day for me not feeling 100%. I guess I just thought since the surgery was on my back i wouldn’t have any down time. Apparently I need to take some and give my body a break—I think I did way too much.

I hope your day was really great. With spring full bloom it must be nice getting outside, at least it was for me. If you played along add your link to mr. linky below. I’m looking forward to seeing spring from around the globe.

I am clean.

Despite the fact that I can't move my left eyebrow * my ear is still numb and the surrounding tissues * my left half of my face feels bruised to the touch like I hit it against the wall * there is still some pain and swelling * my left ear is 33% bigger than the right and I look crazy lopsided * I can't close my left eye completely * I still get dizzy * I'm not sleeping well * it hurts when I eat and I can't open my month completely *

Despite all that my spirits are lifted.
I am clean.
I can still smile.
I am benign.
I am loved.
And am grateful this experience has only robbed me of a little over a week of my life.

For me...photos from the past week. Here's to learning from this experience and never having to go through it again....If only it worked that way.


I took this on the way to the hospital. Adam had me laughing the whole way to the hospital...he really is the best at distractions.


Adam took this right when we got home from the hospital.


my mom had my girls for the first 3 days so on Tuesday they came to visit me bringing with them flowers and chocolate.


He knew I didn't want to be alone, I can't explain why, so he found ways to be with me. I woke up in one of my stupors and snapped this without looking.


Adam documenting the pharmacy & the half eaten chocolate wrappers.


1 week: stitches and greasy greasy hair


Monday i finally brought out my laptop and this is what my sanctuary looked like after school.


Adam documenting the kindnesses that came my way. Thank you. It meant so much to me. It's so healing to remember when you have nothing else, you have people who love you.


P.S i promise that is the last time you will see my surgery label. Have a good one!

a day at a time

Since you all know about my plant pit-stop (aren't we all grateful for Adam's updates and beautiful pictures), I don't have to explain that I was fed up with feeling nauseous and dizzy. When I got home from the hospital that day I said goodbye to my pharmacy and thought I would venture better on my own. I'm not sure if it was because I didn't have anything/anyone to distract me, but late at night while the house slept was the worst for me. I more than once cried myself to sleep because of the pain and mental exhaustion...it was hard waking up feeling the same day after day seeing no end in sight. Sadly, the dizzy feeling has stayed with me long after the narcotics have left my body and I'm trying to stay positive that this is only a temporary side effect.

Due to the dizziness I've been feeling, the plan of lounging in bed reading the day away has been far from my reality (when I read it feels like I'm moving and it makes me sick, it's weird, like motion sickness). Instead the many books I've reserved for such a time as this have sat on my bed side table collecting dust while I've spend my time watching TV. I quickly gobbled up all the good recorded stuff, which sadly wasn't a lot, and wished the Olympics had started 2 weeks earlier. There has been a lot of food network on, but for the most part I've felt too crappy to really care and ended up laying in bed just staring at the television and not really watching it anyway.

what i thought about while I haven't watched:
-Loving the bit of color in my room thanks to the beautiful flowers I've been given.
-Aside from the weekend, the sun has been out everyday.
-I want to try fennel.
-I want to have a garden.
-I wish I was spending the money for the surgery on a vacation with Adam.
-Will my left eyebrow ever move again?
-I feel this incredible nagging feeling about woman's conference, like I'm putting off doing something.
-Will I ever feel like myself again?
-Grateful to know, really know, I am loved.
-Adam has been incredibly sweet and understanding and helpful.
-I miss taking pictures. I actually have continued to take a photo a day, but a good portion has been reminding Adam to take them for me.
-I hate TV.
-If I see this Baskin-Robbins commericial one more time I'm going to scream.
-Chocolate & bananas are so good together.
-I'm completely going to miss Valentines at this rate and hope I will be around for my birthday.
-I'm loving the dove milk chocolate hearts.
-Romanticizing what it would be like to live like Pioneer woman in the wide open space.
-Wanting to simplify life.
....and on and on

Today while there really hasn't been much progress in the dizziness problem I am beginning to see the light at the end of the tunnel. I can't understand why except my doctors appointment is tomorrow to get my stitches out and I can finally take a shower. OH YEAH!!! Yes, I've had a couple refreshing sponge baths from Adam that have gotten me through the week, but I've been unable to wash my hair, and without trying to sick you out, it's a disgusting mess of grease.

Tomorrow I'm going to be a new woman, I just know it.

And on the seventh day she rested.... by Adam

So the recovery process hasn't gone as smoothly as one would hope. The pills they prescribed have wiped her out. After coming home on Monday Amy slept like Nick Nolte after a hard weekend.

There must be a hormonal reaction to the antibiotics or the Joaquin Phoenix-strength narcotics they gave her, because each night around 9pm Amy starts to loose it. By 9:30 she could teach the ladies on "The View" a thing or two about crazy. Tuesday night she started talking about how something was horribly wrong and that her swelling, which was nothing, was freakishly abnormal. She insisted that her eyebrows wouldn't move and she kept staring at me and doing a Groucho Marx style eyebrow raise to prove her point. Later she insisted that her ear was lopsided as if it had been taken off and sewn back on, and I had to remind her they hadn't removed the ear Mr. PotatoeHead-style, but only made an incision. It has been heart-breaking to see her so nauseous and so weak, but I have to remind myself that it was full blown surgery. I bet she hasn't been able to stay awake for more than 3 hours since returning home.

Thursday we went to the hospital for the follow up and the poor girl could hardly walk. As soon as the doctor saw her he told her she looked like she was two weeks post-operative and the wound was healing wonderfully. He confirmed the pathology results were benign, barely acknowledged my terrified report of the 5 day "dry spell" and was gone as soon as he arrived. I got some great footage of the nurse pulling out the stint, but I will spare the home viewers.


They scheduled us to come back Tuesday to remove the stitches. We walked out of the doctors office and Amy started to dry heave as soon as we reached the elevators. The poor girl just dropped to the floor and ralphed into a plant. One has to admire her instincts, she found the only receptacle available and managed to use the native foliage as a screen at the same time (she can even make hallway puking look good!) Unfortunately the garbage can you see in the picture arrived ex post facto and played only a supporting role. As she was dumpin' her breakfast into the palm tree, I ran down the hall and scared the hell out of some admin gal as I threw the door open and grabbed her garbage can without a word of explanation.

We took her back to the car in a wheelchair because she was so groggy and in such pain. Luckily she reversed tact on the drive home and instead of rolling down the windows she went with sweltering heat.

One thing that kind of surprised me was the K-flex Fiber Powder the doctor prescribed to help with "the situation". I think we are all accustomed to the disturbing list of possible side effects that accompany modern pharmaceutical advertising. But nothing could have prepared me for the Tolstoy-like directions that were bolted to the back of the K-flex Fiber bottle. Check this out.

All I wanted to do was find out the size of an adult dose. Instead I had to read 5 pages of terrifying possible results that made me feel dirtier than if I had just read the original V. C. Andrews manuscript. Lets be honest, if there is anything that is self explanatory or "point and shoot" it should be a laxative. You take it, and then IT happens. I think we all remember the wonderful scene in Ghost Town when Ricky Gervais takes the turbo laxative. But this was just scary.

The one thing that has really cheered her is all of the cards, flowers and gifts that had been arriving. On behalf of Amy I want to thank everyone for their thoughtfulness. It brightened her day to see all of her friends thinking of her.
I don't know what Amy is going to do when she reads this, but its just too good not to share.

Personal Growth....but its coming out the side of her neck -by Adam

I have more than a little guilt about how this whole surgery thing has come about. For the fourteen years I have been with Amy she has been hyper-sensitive to the potential presence of tumors, growths and illness of all kinds. So when she mentioned a small growth in her neck a few months back, my first thought was that she might be crying wolf. After she visited the doctor and had the scan done, I felt the sting of guilt...and then the more disquieting feeling of dread. As she prepared for Monday's surgery, I was impressed at how much strength she exhibited, and how all of the thoughts and prayers her friends and family buoyed her.

When we arrived at the hospital, we were greeted by the panic stricken voice of the mall cop turned hospital security guard warning us to stand back and make way for the bomb sniffing dogs. Serious. The waiting room full of people with real problems was treated to a brief imaginary one for a change as Chuckie led his German Shepard "Bo" to a large box that had been left in the hallway. As it turned out, it was just a box of "fluids", and Chuckie and Bo left as suddenly as they arrived. I couldn't help but think some of the people in the room were a bit let down, but Amy and I, being optimists, were happy with the explosionlessness of our check-in.

We had a good time hanging out in the waiting room for an hour or so. I rubbed Amy's legs while we both talked about how it was all going to be OK. I have felt calm all along, but afterwards I had to wonder if other people have come in feeling confident, and left feeling lost.
Once she went back, I was taken to an awfully posh private waiting room that would have put most of the hotels in Canada to shame. A generous room with a couch, a desk, DVD, TV, a recliner and a fridge. As it turned out the fridge was full of Pepsi. Friggin Obamacare, we knew it wouldn't work.

I spent most of the 2 hours by drawing this card for Amy. I didn't have time to ink it, or to write the text, but when I am done it will be like all my cards, trashy and thoughtful at the same time. When the doctor came in he told me the operation was very smooth, and that the growth looked like the kind of tumor that is always benign. Huge relief. As I said, I had been pretty peaceful, but I can only imagine how it would have felt if it had gone the other way. The doctor said he was confident enough to complete the operation with a fat graft. If the growth was cancerous, they would leave the cavity unfilled so they could check it later. To fill the void he had to go find some fat to harvest, which is why the surgery took as long as it did. Finding chub on that girl is like finding a Jean Claude Van Damme flick where he doesn't do the splits. They made an incision deep in the territory my mom taught me was the"bad touch" area.

They cut in front and behind her ear, and inserted a lovely blood/puss drain and stitched that to her neck. Between the three incisions and a load of Demoral, she was really out of it when she was brought into the recovery area.

By the time we got to the car, it was late afternoon. Somehow the 2 hour operation had taken all day. On the drive home we had a delightful role swap as Amy asked me to roll down all the windows. I was freezing my toots off while my drugged up wife seemed oblivious to the 30 degree air. This must be what its like to date Linday Lohan. I carried her from the car to the bed, but she felt more than her real weight because she was as limp as a noodle.

She has slept all but a few hours since getting home. We've had tons of friends bring over food and flowers and chocolate. It has been touching to see how many people have given of themselves. The outpouring has encouraged me to suggest that Amy get a few more procedures a la Heidi Montag just so we can keep this lovely feeling.

not in the plan

I'm going in for surgery this morning. Yeah, you read that right. Remember last fall when I talked about finding a lump on my neck? Well, after multiple doctors visits and a test I was told it was a "tumor", I like to think of it as a friendly growth, but regardless of the name I'm told it needs to come out.

You'd think with words like malignant being thrown around that my mind would be thinking about the results of the biopsy (admit initially as the doctor was laying the ground work that's precisely what I was thinking about), however, the last 7 days instead my focus has been on the actual surgery. You know when you see drug commercials on TV and the entire time as you watch the actors run around with smiles on their faces and in the background someone is reading down a list of crazy side effects? That exactly what it was like as the doctor, I know out of pure obligation to give me all the facts, told me all the possibilities as I sat in a daze, shocked. This was not the way I thought my doctor visit would go.

I guess where it's located right near or around my facial nerve there's a possibility of paralysis (worse case senario), but most likely it will just be temporary while I heal and I'll be back to normal in a matter a weeks. I was told the scar will look like I had a face lift and if they have to take more tissue than initially thought they may need to take fat from my abdomen to fill in the cavity so it looks normal. deep breath.

Despite all this you would not believe that I'm actually feeling quite peaceful about everything. Yes, I know quite a feat for the cancer-phobe that I am. Don't get me wrong, the minute I turned the corner of the doctors office it hit me, and I broke down. It's a good thing I was at the hospital or people would have been staring at my full-body sobbing. I still feel a bit scared, but ever since I got in my car and thought, It is what it is. Let's take care of this and move on, I've felt peaceful. This is the Amy I've always wanted to be. I need to attribute the calm and peace to the Spirit, and the prayers and support of my friends and family...thank you for helping keep me sane. It's encouraging to remember real and lasting growth is left over after our individual trials.

I'm leaving to the hospital feeling blessed to have so many looking out for me. It's very comforting walking into the unknown knowing I am not alone. Thank you. I leave peaceful.

I'll keep you posted.