Independence Day

As if it's not bad enough not being able to sleep normally, it's the 4th of July, which means it's noisier than usual. In spite of the fact that fireworks are illegal in Seattle (and a serious lease violation in my housing complex), the firecrackers and M-80s start going off about a week before the 4th and don't end until about a week after. And it almost always happens after midnight. Just heard a rather loud one about 20 minutes ago. It's 4 in the morning, a-holes!

Add to that the fact that for the past few nights I've been getting feverish starting at about midnight each night. I don't know what that's all about. Could be sinus problems caused by sleeping with the window open; could be my crappy, almost all-the-time swollen gums. Who knows?

I looked out the window on my way downstairs to write this blog and noticed that there is a car parked right smack in the middle of the curb between the 2 entrances to the parking lot across the street, which means that it's taking up 2 parking spaces. Highly annoying. Lack of parking is only one of the reasons I don't own a car, but it's a big one.

Oh boy, I'm so tired. Why can't I sleep?

Catch up

I know it's been awhile since I have written. That's because I had chemo last week, and it really wore me out. I slept a good portion of the week and was pretty blurry the rest of the time. Thank goodness, though, that I now have 8 weeks off of any cancer treatment, following which I will have more scans, and we will decide where to go from here. I am seriously looking forward to a chemo-free summer even though the chemo I've already had means I have to stay out of the sun. It's not like I'm likely to leave my apartment anyway. Except when I take Alex to his camp jumping off spot and then to and from the airport when he goes to New York.

Oh yeah, Alex is going to New York. Amazing, huh? He will have flown away on airplane trips 3 times before his 14th birthday. I was 19 before I ever flew, and then I didn't fly again until I was 30 (and not at all since). This will be the first time I have been inside Sea-Tac since 9/11. Hope I don't have to walk too far. We'll take the light rail down. That will be the first time I've taken the light rail even. Sheesh! I used to have a life! I'm sure I did.

Well, that's pretty much it. I did call my Dad on Father's Day. Tomorrow is Alex's 8th grade promotion night. Tuesday is the last day of school. I'm almost finished with Harry Potter, although Alex and I have started to read the 7th book together. We want to have lots of time to get it finished before the movie comes out in November. With it being summer, I don't imagine he will want to sit still much. Missing Benton and wondering when his forehead got so high. Amazing what can happen in a year.

That's my ramble for tonight. Cya.

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Now playing: Eric Clapton - (I'm Your) Hoochie Coochie Man
via FoxyTunes

Doctor tomorrow

I got a phone call from my care coordinator this afternoon (yesterday actually), and I have an appointment with my oncologist tomorrow and, blood counts being acceptable, chemo on Monday and Tuesday. This should be my last regular chemo. It is round 6. More testing follows, and if everything is ok, we move on to maintenance treatments every 2 months for I don't know how long. I will find out more in the morning. Yes, I actually have to get up in the morning. In about six hours, to be precise. But, since I am not in the least bit sleepy, I probably won't get more than a couple hours of sleep. That's ok; I'll sleep in the afternoon when I get home.

I am now almost finished with the third Harry Potter book, but still haven't found the sixth. I will probably have to borrow it from a neighbor. I know at least 2 who have it handy.

I finally received my Windows 7 upgrade and installed it. I sure do like the desktop better. And there are neat things you can do with the open windows that we couldn't do before. It will be fun to explore.

There's not much to this post tonight. Guess I don't have much to think about. Later.

More Ramblings

June 9, 2010. My how time flies. School's out in 13 days. Alex graduates from middle school in 12. In 11 days, it will be exactly 5 years since the last time my kids' dad came to see them or me. I remember, because it was the night Benton graduated from high school. Alex and I accidentally ran into him in a hospital waiting room a couple of months later, but there has been nothing since then. 5 years, and I'm still hoping he'll come back. What the hell is the matter with me?

On a lighter note, I started the Harry Potter series again. I will most likely finish the 2nd book before I sleep tonight. Trouble is, we have searched the house up and down and inside out and cannot find the 6th book anywhere. My suspicion is that Benton never returned it when he borrowed it before the 7th book was released, but he swears he doesn't have it. I really need to buy an entirely new set, because, with the exception of the 7th book, they are all in really poor condition. Over the past 10 years, they have been read easily as many times as I have read Tolkien's "Lord of the Rings" trilogy (since they were read by 4 different people, and besides I have about 6 different printings of "Lord of the Rings," all of which I have read.) But I really can't afford to buy them all at once, and that's what I want to do. I looked on eBay, but it really would defeat the purpose to buy a used set.

Well, I suppose I should email my care coordinator at Seattle Cancer Care Alliance to find out when my next chemo is. Must be coming up soon, but I haven't had a call or a schedule letter as yet. Guess I'll do that now.

Night.

Books, books, more books.

I need books to read! For the past few years I have been reading a few different fantasy series. Long fantasy series. The Drizzt series by R. A. Salvatore, The Change series by S. M. Stirling, the Shannara series by Terry Brooks, etc. Trouble is I've read everything published to date. Now I'm waiting for the next books in each series to come out. They're all coming out in the fall! What am I supposed to read in the meantime? Seriously! I'm so desperate that I searched my amply stocked bookshelves and actually read "Wuthering Heights"! And then "Thornbirds." I absolutely refuse to read my daughter's vampire books. So I decided to reread the Harry Potter series for the umpteenth time. That should keep me busy for a couple of weeks anyway.

Right this second I am installing the Office 2010 beta. It's good until October, at which time I can decide to buy it or not. Probably will, since I'm using 2003 now. My Windows 7 upgrade is on its way via UPS Ground. I will be glad to get rid of Vista.

My son Benton was on MSNBC day before yesterday wearing an oil barrel. Ummm. It was pretty funny, actually.

My next door neighbor has a wonderful service dog named Kiyah. She is the sweetest, most well-behaved dog I've ever known. I've spent a lot of time with her and love her lots. During the past few weeks, she started to get sick a lot, couldn't keep her food down, and was losing weight until she is just skin and bones. Last week, the vet told my neighbor that Kiyah has inoperable intestinal cancer. I have never been around an animal that was dying before. When I was a kid, our pets always died suddenly, usually by being hit by cars. It's really hard watching Kiyah now. I hope she's not suffering. She sleeps a lot. I will miss her terribly when she's gone.

Yet another reminder of growing old

Ken Griffey, Jr. retired today. I will always remember him as a teenager, cutting up in the Mariners dugout and then coming out to hit the most amazing homeruns with the sweetest swing in baseball. You always knew when his hit was gone, because the bat gave a very distinctive crack. Those were the days. My son grew up watching Griffey, Martinez (Edgar and Tino), Buhner, Randy Johnson, Dan Wilson, Joey Cora, Alex Rodriguez...the list goes on. Benton was 8 years old in 1995 when the Mariners made it to post-season for the first time. For years after that, he worked single-mindedly towards the major leagues. But somewhere along the line he discovered writing and then politics, and a choice had to be made. Baseball faded away.

But, oh those last few years of the 20th century were sweet. We used to play the Ken Griffey, Jr. release of the baseball game for Super Nintendo together. Benton would call all the plays just like Dave Niehaus. "Get out the rye bread and mustard, Grandma! It's GRAND SALAMI time!" When I found myself expecting twin boys in 1996, 9-year-old Benton said he wanted them to be named Kenny and Alex, so they were.

We were heartbroken when Griffey left for Cincinnati, although we understood. Unlike most of the people in the stands, I never booed Alex Rodriguez when he came back with the Rangers or the Yankees to play. He was a kid; of course he went for the money! Who would expect anything else?

I cried when Jay Buhner retired and when Lou left. I will undoubtedly sob uncontrollably when Dave Niehaus finally retires. And can Ichiro be far behind? He is 36 after all. I cried like a baby when Mike Cameron carried the American flag around the field after the Mariners clinched the American League West title on September 19, 2001. They went on to win 116 games that year.

This is indeed the end of an era. Thanks for the memories, Junior. Take good care of that beautiful family of yours. Always remember that Seattle loves you.

Pessimists R Us

While there may be a few upbeat people in my family (my daughter for one), we are for the most part a pretty pessimistic lot. For us the glass is definitely half empty. Some of us are worse than others of course. My youngest son Alex is a case in point. For Alex, the glass is not merely half-empty; it is down to its last drop, and there will never be any water to fill it up again, so we might just as well break the glass and use it to cut our throats. (All this while he's standing next to a perfectly functioning faucet, and we live in Seattle for Pete's sake, not Death Valley.)

Alex comes home from school on Friday afternoon and is excited for the weekend for all of maybe 10 minutes. Then he sighs and says tomorrow is Saturday and then comes Sunday and then I have to go back to school. The weekend is over!!!

But, I must admit, he comes by it naturally. With a family like ours, he has no chance. The last time I saw my youngest brother Robin, I asked him how he was. He responded, "Oh, I've never been worse... But there's always tomorrow." I laughed, but I don't think he was kidding.

Actually, Robin and Alex have always reminded me of one another. I think it's the youngest child syndrome. The only differences I've noticed, really, is that Alex doesn't have long straggly hair or a chronic smoker's cough.

My mother might object to being called a pessimist, but she is. When I was young and got excited about something, she'd always talk me down. I remember coming home all giddy and telling her I was "going" with so-and-so. She responded, "Where are you going?" When I was 20 or 21 and temporarily back living at home, I was all excited about buying a used Toyota Celica. I wanted it bad, and was pretty sure I could afford it. She said, "You don't want a car." Deflated, I didn't buy the car (and, 31 years later, I've never bought another one either).

When I was 22 and had my first real apartment, Mom and Dad came to visit. I talked about the guy I liked, but Mom said, "You don't want a boyfriend; they're nothing but trouble." About 15 minutes later, she let out a deep sigh and said, "I guess I'm never going to have any grandchildren." I mean, you can't have it both ways, Mom. As it turned out, she got grandchildren from my brother Richard long before she got them from me. Now she has 5 grandchildren and at least 7 great-grandchildren. And I'm the one sighing about not having grandchildren.

Is there anybody out there?

It would be nice to know whether anyone is reading my ramblings. If you are, let me know. If not, I guess it doesn't really matter. I suppose it's better to be typing this stuff on the computer, then just letting it run through my mind endlessly. I'm pretty sure it's nothing earth-shattering.

Today my daughter heard me sniffing at the computer and asked me if I was crying, and I said I was a little. "Why?" she wanted to know. I said, "Because it's Memorial Day, and Benton is memorializing Daniel." And that was just after reading the Twitter entry, I didn't know about the blog as yet. Five years ago, one of the boys that my son grew up playing baseball with was killed by a roadside bomb in Iraq. He joined the marines right out of high school. I barely knew the boy, but he was important to my son and therefore to me. I fell apart when it happened. I suppose it's because I'm so anti-war. I grew up in the Vietnam era, and yet this was the only person I had ever known personally who had died in war. At the time, Benton was 18 and about to graduate from high school. I was terrified that he would get it into his head that he needed to avenge his friend and his country and would run off and join the marines. He didn't, thank the Lord. But his best friend Adam joined ROTC in college and is now an officer stationed in Afghanistan. I pray everyday that he comes home safe. My reasons are selfish: I don't think I can stand another loss like that. I don't think Benton can stand another loss like that. Not without some sort of irreparable damage.

I miss Benton and all his friends. I miss seeing him practice fly balls and grounders against the side of the parking garage across the street. I miss watching him play and coach baseball. I miss the boy he was even while admiring the man he's become.

This is not at all what I was going to write about when I sat down here. But I suppose that's the way late-night rambling goes. I was going to write about pessimism, especially as it relates to my youngest brother and my youngest son. Perhaps another time.

Sleepless in...well, you guessed it.

After I wrote last night, I played a few games and went to back to bed tired enough to sleep...you'd think. Trouble is, there's this safety light on the outside wall of my apartment right by my bedroom window. I don't know if it's defective or if it's supposed to act this way. But just when I am actually drifting off to sleep, the light will either go off or come back on, startling my eyelids open and forcing me to start the whole process over again. Tonight I actually took Ativan, which usually relaxes me enough to get me to sleep, even if only for a couple of hours. No such luck tonight. In spite of only sleeping 4 hours last night, I am still wide awake.

Thinking of many things, mainly my children. I am a "half-empty nester." A year ago, my oldest son was preparing to graduate from college and move 3000 miles away from home. It's been a pretty tough year for me, made tougher by the reality that the other two will be gone in the blink of an eye. My daughter is taking the SAT next weekend. My younger son starts high school in September. At the same time I am living with the reality that they will soon be tearing down my neighborhood, and I will have to downsize and start living alone for the first time since I was 27 years old.

I used to like being alone. I don't anymore. I have a hard time taking care of myself (hard to admit). I don't even do my own shopping anymore, and I can't remember the last time I cooked. I eat a lot of delivered pizza and Chinese food, which is probably why I'm so broke all the time.

But I digress. Some people would say that having one child out of three move out would make my nest not "half-empty" but "two-thirds full," but that's only because they'll never know how much space he took up. His shoes alone could swallow up an entire hallway (and even now are busting down the door of my storage room). Besides, for the first 6 3/4 years of his life, it was just him and me. (I'm strangely hearing Helen Reddy singing in my ear right now: "You and me against the world..." Sappy, but true.) Thank the gods for Twitter. Without it I'd never hear from him. There's his blog of course, but it's seldom personal; it's all sports and politics. Which is cool; it's nice to know what he's interested in. On Mother's Day, I got a text. No card, no voice call, a text, and it woke me up at that (since I don't sleep at night, you get the gist). It's ok. I love him anyway, and I'm very proud of him for taking control of his life...for figuring out what was important to him and going after it. That's great, and I'd like to think that's the way I raised him. I'm not sure though, I think it was mostly osmosis. Or a whole lot of luck. (Oh, wait, I don't believe in luck...see last night's post.) Hmmm. But then maybe fate and luck sort of go hand in hand.

Oh well, I can see that my ramblings this morning are merely that, disjointed slop. I will have mercy on any who chance to read this and end now.

Back at ya tomorrow.

The (non)Power of Positive (or Negative) Thinking

Quite some time ago, a friend of the family gave me a book to read. It is called "The Secret," and is based on a movie by the same name. It sat on my desk for several months, untouched, until last week, when, faced with computer maintenance downtime, I picked it up. I read about 5 pages and then put it back down. I have not opened it since. Until this morning, when I was lying in bed unable to sleep, as happens too often of late. It occurred to me that the reason I had not read more was because it quickly became obvious to me that "The Secret" is otherwise known by too many as "the power of positive thinking." The problem? I don't believe in the power of positive thinking. I don't think I ever have.

I believe that I was a victim of childhood incest by my uncles because someone abused them and they passed it on. This is because there are evil people in the world. I did not (nor did they) "speak" it into existence. Yes, I actually once had a new-ager tell me that I was abused as a 5-year-old because I obviously wanted it that way.

I believe that I have spent the majority of my adult life sick because mankind has caused a blight on the planet, not because I chose it to be so (or, perhaps more accurately, didn't choose it NOT to be so).

I believe that God (or goddess) can heal, but will do so (if so inclined) whether I pray to he/she "believing" it will be done.

Put in other words, I believe in fate. If it's meant to be, it will be. And there's not much I can do to affect the outcome. There are some things I can do, of course. Eat right, exercise, get enough sleep, be kind to others. But speaking to make it so? I think not.

I don't really believe in odds, either. If I buy a lottery ticket, it's either 100% going to win or 100% not going to win. It's predetermined, but not by me (unless of course I choose not to buy it after all).

What do you think?