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Another test.  This one has a LINK!

To what, though?  I don’t know!

Test

This smell is making my head AND stomach hurt!

Hello world!

This is not my ‘real’ blog.

My ‘real’ blog is at Blogger.

I hope you’ll take the time to stop there, as well.

Thanks!

Dear Cancer

Dear Cancer,

You invaded my brain. You took
from me my balance, my hearing, my eyesight, my livelihood.  You took from me the ability to play with my
daughter.  You took from me my independence,
my ability to work, my ability to LIVE FREELY.

Cancer, you gave to me, too.  You gave me fear.  I now fear that I will not see my daughter
reach high school. I fear that my daughter hates me because I can’t run in the
yard, I can’t play tickle monster anymore, either.  I fear that every time I go to sleep, it will
be the last time.  I fear that there will
never be a cure.

You’ve also given me hatred,
Cancer.  I hate that there are so many
different ‘versions’ of you out there.  I
hate that not all of them have shown their nasty selves and mostly, mostly I
hate that so many types of cancer go un-noticed and non-publicized.

---

I started this letter on a website, aptly named, “Dear Cancer”. I didn’t realize that I really felt this way. I mean, I’ve written before about my cancer.  We’ve all read those posts.  This is different.  I know it’s an old psychology trick where you get to say whatever you want to whomever/whatever hurt you.  I’ve never done it until today.  Maybe it will help, but who knows.  I do know that I have to finish that letter, but don’t quite know what I else I want ‘cancer’ to know.  I don’t know that *I* have really noticed that some of my fears were there.  Like, if I don’t talk about it, it won’t rear its head.  If I don’t think about the fear, it’s not really there… right? That’s how it works – out of sight, out of mind.

Glad

I just want to tell you how glad I am that so many of my friends write, too!  Check out the “Blogs I Follow”.  There are some really funny writers over there!

Short Bus

the weird thing is that i don’t know why i am here.  i think i am channeling that ee cummings person because i have decided not to use any capitalization this time.  really, it’s just that i am too lazy.  well, that i am not in the mood right now.  that will probably chaNGE IN THE NEXT FEW SENTENCES THOUGH. SEE?  that really wasn’t my intent, but it kinda fits, so i am leaving it.  the reason that i think i am here is that once again, i am trying to remember all the fabulous words that filled my head as i was trying to sleep.  i think i may invest in a small digi-recorder so that i can capture those thoughts because i can never get the laptop out in time.

I feel so strange lately.  I hate it.  I found out that my hearing loss may be nerve damage from radiation.  The area where the radiation was focused, is close a major nerve (cochlea?) in the ear.  If this is the case, I don’t know if my hearing can be repaired or corrected.  You know, just one more thing for me to worry about that people don’t think I think about.  And the dizziness?  Also possibly related to the radiation, though, since I had it before diagnosis, I don’t know how much water that one holds.  I’m just going with the fact that they don’t *know* why I am so dizzy.  The new doc says Vertigo.  I’d buy that if Meclizine helped.  But, it doesn’t.  So…  I don’t know where we are on that one.

I remember the things that I was going to post about the other night.  Probably because it’s the middle of the night and I should be sleeping right now.  I was going to post about the word ‘retarded’. I was going to post about how much I *HATE* that word, and how full of hatred the word is, when I thought about t the true meaning of it.  When not used in a derogatory sense, it means to impede.  As Webster defines it,

re⋅tard
/rɪˈtɑrd, for 1–3, 5; ˈritɑrd for 4/ Show Spelled Pronunciation [ri-tahrd, for 1–3, 5; ree-tahrd for 4] Show IPA
–verb (used with object)

1. to make slow; delay the development or progress of (an action, process, etc.); hinder or impede.
   –verb (used without object)
   
2. to be delayed.
   –noun
   
3. a slowing down, diminution, or hindrance, as in a machine.
   
4. Slang: Disparaging.
   a. a mentally retarded person.
   b. a person who is stupid, obtuse, or ineffective in some way: a hopeless social retard.
   
5. Automotive, Machinery. an adjustment made in the setting of the distributor of an internal-combustion engine so that the spark for ignition in each cylinder is generated later in the cycle.

Now, the reason that I post this, is because the other night I was remembering things about my childhood.  I remember when I was in elementary school, I had to have occupational therapy; and I had to go to the “special” school to get it.  I had to ride the short bus!  So yes, when people say that to me, I tell them that yes, I did ride the short bus!  And boy, did it ever scare me!  All those kids stared at me because *I* was different from them.  I didn’t have a wheelchair, or crutches, or some disfiguring disease or ailment.  I walked normally and I talked normally.  I didn’t have to wear a helmet and I didn’t need help getting to and from my seat.  I don’t think I ever told any of my friends at my ‘real’ school about those visits, but I remember them clearly.  I remember being so afraid that I would walk as fast as I could to the OT/PT room.  All those eyes on me, kids pointing…  I know that they weren’t making fun of me as people probably did to them, but looking back, it really showed me what it was like to be the object of bad attention. I also learned that these kids who were looking at me and pointing at me, were just LIKE me (though, I didn’t learn THAT lesson until later in life). I don’t know if this is why I have a special spot in my heart for the special needs kids, but when I go (went) into a classroom, those kids are the ones that I am pulled to the strongest.  As usual, I don’t know where I wanted to go with this.  These were just some thoughts that came to me the other night (and again this evening) while trying to sleep. None of this is meant to offend anyone, and if I did, I apologize.  I realize that some of my words may not be ‘politically correct’, but I don’t even know what that means anymore.

Hello, Title Bar!!

I don’t see the title line.  Oh well. i think, that since I am nearing the end of treatment, I am going to turn this into a comedy relief spot.  It’s going to be slightly difficult, because I am not funny.  If I am, it’s purely coincidental.

I just want OFF this Temodar, but found out today that there will be 2 months left in this course and then ANOTHER course will start for 6 more months.  I don’t know.  Too much to think about on this first day of the chemo cycle.  That first dose kicked my ass this afternoon (and now, too). Slept all afternoon and hope to sleep throught the night as well.

I found the title line!  Of course it was operator error…  DER.

It Was Bound To Happen

Six years later, it happened.  I saw Little Girl’s “father” today.  I knew that he worked at the hospital where I had Kasey.  He swore to a friend that he went and saw her in the nursery when she was born.  That’s a LIE because I wouldn’t let them put her in the nursery for that very reason.  He’s apparently in their IT department and has full access to anywhere in the hospital.  I didn’t want to take any chances.  I need not have worried.  When I saw him today, I wasn’t really sure that it was him.  I mean, every time I see a tall guy with dark hair and a goatee, I think it’s him.  Today, it really was.  He had his back to me, and turned to profile. I knew immediately that it really was him so I said, “Hi, Scott!” He said, “Hi!” and smiled at me.  Then he realized it was me and his eyes got HUGE! He took his little cart and took off down the hall.  He was with a co-worker and I called out, “Scott, hey Scott!  Don’t you want to see a picture of your daughter?”  The co-worker said, “Scott, she’s calling you.”  He kept on walking.

I have to say that he’s a lot better looking in my memories than he is in real life.  He’s also not nearly as tall as I remember.  He’s about 5’10″ — not the 6’3″ that I thought he was.  It really, really threw me.  I mean seriously…  six years?  and I see him the day before Thanksgiving?  It was bound to happen, as much as we are at the hospital, but still… ya know?  That was the only time that I wished my hair was still gone and that I had been wearing a bandanna.  I would have LOVED to see THAT look.  >:-)

I am very thankful though, that I saw him.  It was healing for me, believe it or not.  It was closure, since I never really got to ‘say’ goodbye, or to see him ‘one last time’.  I truly understand now that he is a self-centered jackass.  He doesn’t care about me or my daughter and we are so much better off without him.  It took six years of wondering what he’d do if he saw us, but now I know.  It hurts.  G-d, does it hurt, but you know what?  It’s better this way.  I’m just very, very, VERY thankful that we didn’t have Little Girl with us.  That one would have had no healing what-so-ever. I wouldn’t have been able to explain that one at all.

I don’t get it…

For the record:

This is NOT about Cancer.  

This is another touchy subject 

I feel it’s my right to talk about 

on my own Blog…

 

Help me with this one. As a Jewish person who was never very observant, but celebrated the ‘big’ days like Yom Kippur, Rosh Hashanna and Passover, I have to say this much.  I know that December 25th was not Jesus’ true birthday; it is a date that was randomly chosen to represent it. Help me understand why this holiday causes such conflict between religions. 

In Judaism, the reason that Chanukkah is rarely on the same date on ‘our’ calendar, is because it’s commemorating the ‘miracle of light’ and ALWAYS falls on the 25th day of the Hebrew month, Kislev. It’s celebrating that there was enough oil to light the temple for Judah and the Maccabees for eight days…  Agreed?

I don’t personally agree with the commercialization of the ‘holiday season’.  Nor do I agree with the people who get so upset when they’re told, “Happy Holidays” rather than, “Merry Christmas”.  As a Jew, I get upset when I’m told “Merry Christmas”, because that’s not what I believe in.  The look that I get when I respond with “Happy Chanukkah!” is one of disbelief and horror.  Why should YOU be able to tell ME “Merry Christmas” but if I tell you “Happy Chanukkah”, you are offended?  If I was from a multi-religion family, where we celebrated Kwanzaa and the Solstice too, it would be a LOT easier to say “Happy Holidays”.  However, the same thing is going to happen again.

Generally speaking, people are offended if they are forced to hear something that they do not believe.  There are also those who are offended that the holiday season has become just that.  I was reading something a little while ago, while trying to get my facts straight. 

It is said the “Jesus is the reason for the season” but it never was so from the beginning. Today Christmas is a celebration for the god of possessions and merchandise. Santa Clause is this god’s name and you had better watch out for he is keeping a list of who is naughty and who is nice. At least that is the teaching of the followers of this god. (source)

I don’t really know what I am trying to say here., but I think that twas the point.  This isn’t about the true holiday anymore.  It’s about money and gifts and spending and which religion is right.  It’s about who can get more pissed off because their religion isn’t recognized or because their religion IS recognized.  It’s about who can say something and who can’t say anything.  Everything has gotten that way these days.  Everyhting has to be a battle. These are just some thoughts that have been in my head for the last few days.  I don’t mean for this to alienate anyone or to cause ill-feelings.  I just had to get the words out of my head and maybe get some thoughts on them.  I know what I believe.  I know that a lot of people feel differently.  I respect that.  I know that when I am shopping, I would rather be told to have a happy holiday than be told Merry Christmas.  There are other holidays than Christmas and to segregate one from the others…  Hell, that’s a whole different can of worms!!

Happy Holidays, everyone (and for that one person who started  me thinking about this whole thing, Merry Christmas!).

It Is What It Is

It’s been awhile since I’ve written a new blog entry. I just haven’t had the ‘umph’ to do it. I haven’t had the desire to write. Tonight, I feel the desire. I had another MRI today. They moved it up 3 weeks because I’ve been having some issues. I’ve had this mess going on with my chest for the last 3-4 weeks. They put me on Advair to try to clear it up. It helped a little, but it’s another steroid. Even though it’s inhaled, I still found that I was eating uncontrollably again. I can’t have that. I need to talk with the docs about another option. I go back to my onco on the 10th for the results of this MRI. *I* think that Bob is growing again, but, *I* am not a radiologist, so I can’t really read the MRI. I can just go by my own insecurities and feelings that the dizziness is worse.

I haven’t really thought about what it means to have cancer and i don’t think that I really want to, either. People are always telling me how strong I am being and how hard I am fighting. Really, I don’t feel it. I don’t feel any different than I felt last year. In fact, I feel better… My headaches are almost gone! I’ve had 2 true headaches since the neurectomy. Granted, my head has hurt (superficially) since the same surgery. I don’t know… I mean, am I really a fighter? I just don’t feel it. What I *do* feel, is useless. I can’t walk without support, I sleep all the time… You know, maybe I do notice that I have cancer? Or maybe I’ve just gotten really lazy this summer? I just don’t feel like I am any different than anyone else.

Why is it that everyone else who’s fighting cancer “feels” it? They have all these things that they want to say and do… me? I talk like I’m a big deal, but when it comes down to it, I’m quite apathetic. If i am apathetic over my own cancer, how can i help other people? That’s it. That’s it, by g-d! I just had a breakthrough… don’t laugh. I mean it. All Summer, I’ve been trying to figure it out. I don’t care. I’m living my life like I would anyway, dealing with the symptoms and trying to figure out the causes. I’ve been living with the motto, “It is what it is.” Really, what else could it be? It happened. I have cancer. I have an inoperable brain tumor. There is no doubt in my mind (bad pun) that one day this tumor is going to kill me. I know, I know… I shouldn’t think that way. But you know… it is what it is. The tumor is on my brain stem. I don’t see them removing it any time soon. It may kill me when I’m 36 or it may kill me when I’m 90. All I know, is that it will be a part of my COD.

Okay, enough morbidity. I’ll try to remember to post after my appointment on the 10th. If I don’t, check my Facebook, and the update will definitely be there.

Oh, and I got a new tattoo!