Did You Ever Think Life Was Gonna Be This Way?

After a long hiatus in which I could only watch "Friends" episodes, listen to the All Souls trilogy on audiobook, walk around feeling like I'd drunk a gallon of coffee, and sometimes - sometimes  - knit, I've finally read a book. Two books, in fact! I'm so proud. One seems to have a bit more synergy with my present situation, however, so I give you: Station Eleven: A Novel by Emily St. John Mandel Had Station Eleven been written in a chronologically organized way, it would have been a nice addition to the growing field of post-apocalyptic fiction. But Mandel instead takes readers through life before "the collapse," as well as during and after that seminal event, using a technique that reminded me of a disorganized but dazzling pile of photographs.  Readers follow the fates of a handful of people introduced in the first chapter of the book, which occurs in a theater just before the collapse. What really makes this book sparkle is the organi

It's been a while, because my brain has been too scattered to focus on an actual book, but I like to post recent book reviews I've written, especially when the book in some way intersects with the rest of my life. Today, The Light Between Oceans : If you're looking for a book to break your heart a little, this is the one to read. A sweet young couple pines for a family as they live alone on a lighthouse island, and one day, fate plays its hand and brings them a baby, which they decide to keep. The decision to do so winds up destroying their quiet and isolated lives.  Is it a happy ending? I don't know. Is it a heart-true and lovely story? Yes, absolutely. It's very easy to put yourself into the positions of the various protagonists, and every avenue is an awful one, with agonizing consequences. I was pleasantly surprised that the story stayed strong all the way to the end, after the obviously discovered denouement. That's difficult to achieve, but Ste

So, I'm all done with my radiation therapy, two days early - and not a moment too soon, because for whatever reason, it was making me supremely depressed. My oncologist mentioned once that radiation patients seem to experience depression at a higher level than other patients but he didn't have an explanation. I don't have an explanation, either, but I was a big disaster for the last four days. Just ask my husband, my mom, or my dad, all of whom were privvy to various temper tantrums and breakdowns. My kids also saw me weepy and taking to my bed, Victorian style. Not terribly proud of that, but to be honest, it was probably for the best to have me tucked away in the bedroom like an ailing great-granny. My poor kids - they're going to think motherhood consists of crying and sleeping. At least they seem to take it in stride - when I fell asleep on the couch yesterday for two hours, my 7 year old daughter, who was home sick with a fever, came over and covered me with a b

I spent most of the day today in bed. I guess the radiation treatments of last week sort of wore me out more than I had expected they would. But with all the laying around, it reminded me that this time last year, I was in the hospital. After I couldn't shake the 40 pounds (!!!) of water weight I'd gained during my liver resection in three weeks, my oncologist decided to do a CT scan to see if it would help them figure out what was going on. And what, exactly, did he find? A MASSIVE blood clot that extended from somewhere near my liver all the way down my left leg. Exciting, right? They admitted me to put me on an IV drip of blood thinner and to perform tests trying to understand where it came from. Unbeknownst to me and my medical team, I'd been a ticking time bomb for weeks. This is probably the closest I've come to death.  Blood clots, as you know, can kill you. The really big ones will almost certainly kill you, because they break off and the pieces can get stu

First things first: I told you God was busy making new planets! I'm a soothsayer, I tell you! Ka-boom! new planet evidence Next, I was going to write a post full of sunshine and glitter stickers, explaining how much I love my friends and supporters and in no way was trying to shame or embarrass anyone with my last post, because a couple of people mailed me to apologize for being stupid and that's just, well, dumb. Internet huggies for you. But then. Then this happened: That's right. I came home from a lovely little lunch date with my mom to discover that a fucking funeral planning service had sent me a mailing. I mean, are you fucking kidding me? Little #PSA to the funeral planning crowd: sorry to disappoint but I'm not planning on shuffling off this mortal coil any time soon. And if I do, I sure as fuck won't be using any company that tried to get my business with a fucking form letter!   I don't recommend this brand.

I had my first SBRT session today. Can you feel me glowing right through the screen? I actually fell asleep while they were doing it. I hope that was okay because last time, there was this issue where I was breathing too slowly and so I had to speed up my breaths without hyperventilating. Try it some time. It's super fun. Seriously, though, if I don't breathe in the right pattern then they accidentally might get some normal tissue and I'd like to hang on to as much of that as possible, thankyouverymuch.  So, one down and five to go. Apparently it made me a little bit tired. (It also, I noticed as I was getting ready for bed, left me with permanent marker all over my body - x's and circles and lines - so that they can be sure I'm all lined up correctly for the machine. All this technology at their disposal and a Sharpie is the best they can do? Really?) Anyway. As we were leaving, I caught sight of another patient and she was in a bad way. I couldn't help but thi