Thank Goodness it's Saturday. Yes, such a crazy week that I couldn't even write this blog yesterday under the more familiar TGIF label.
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| me and my cancer pals |
Last weekend I was in Baltimore for our annual conference --Empowerment through Education -- for the Metastatic Breast Cancer Network (MBCN). Empowerment! Harkening back to the 60's feminist movement, you would think that word has seen its day, but it definitely summed up how most of us felt after the conference. Very inspiring to connect with others living with Stage IV--many who are much worse off than I am-- but still pushing along and embracing life. We had excellent speakers from Johns Hopkins and glimmers of research hope in new areas of immunotherapy and epigenetics.
Everything went well, except for a glitch with the WEATHER. Snow flurries at 7 am on Saturday discouraged many of our local registrants from venturing out on the highways, so our attendance was down slightly.
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| Backyard destruction |
The big W became the word of the week. I arrived home on Sunday at 5pm to no power in our house. We ate out, spent the evening at Gary's office and then headed home and straight to bed. Pretty cozy under mounds of blankets, but I was looking for that warmed up brick that the early Americans put at the foot of the bed. We didn't have power restored until Wednesday at 6 pm--a four day stretch that's the longest we've ever gone without power (other than camping trips!) I use the term "we" loosely, since I toughed it out at the shore for three days.
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| a lone surfer |
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| rolling surf at the shore |
Our helpful utility company posted vague updates like "90% of customers will have power restored by Wednesday midnight; the remaining 10% by Sunday." Later updated this to 90% by Thursday midnight.... But were we in the elite 10%? They also hosted free distribution of dry ice, but with no explanation of how you would use it.
The last time I thought about dry ice was probably when I was in 4th grade at St. Luke's Parochial School. On the rare occasion of a vanilla dixie cup treat for the class, dry ice was used to keep the ice cream cold. It was steamy, mysterious and dangerous. One of the bigger boys, usually Rudy Poselivic or Freddie Galucci, was designated Dry Ice Man and given the padded gloves to remove the ice, which burns the skin on contact. They were our heroes for braving potential injury so we could all enjoy the ice cream. But do people today know about dry ice? Would they have the voice of Sister Mary Perpetua haunting their memories to be careful with that "burning" ice?
I ended the week with some long waits in doctor offices and infusion suites, another casualty of the storm, with rearranged appointments and shorthanded staff.
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| Wouldn't these have made great Halloween shoes? |
So we missed Halloween, but hopefully have a greater appreciation for our dependence on power and a greater faith in our resiliency in responding to difficult circumstances.
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| Yes, I'm being resilient! |
Today is a beautiful day, but since it's the first weekend we're home in the last month, some attention must be paid to THE LIST. Nothing says Thanksgiving like moving the dining room furniture into the living room and vice versa. You'd think we've got the strategy down now after so many years, but somehow we always end up with someone backed into a corner surrounded by furniture or a table and couch vying for the same limited territory in the front hall. Promises to be an exciting day!
