CharmingBitch

Things easier to write than to say

My wife:

1. Is a natural born leader. It's native to who she is and how she lives and SURVIVES.
2. She is a mother in her soul and it shows.
3. She is a shit talker but she is so gentle with our kids ad their hearts.
4. She is a shit talker but she is so gentle with my heart.
5. She is a shit talker but she is so gentle in spirit, honestly.
6. She always hugs helllo and kisses goodbye.
7. My dad loves the goodbye kisses. Took him by surprise at first.
8. Her dog is crazy. Crazy insane and untrainable and she loves her with her whole heart.
9. NO REALLY THAT DOG IS NUTS. I am an aniamal lover across the board and I cannot get on board with that damn idiot dog. CRAZY.
10. Maybe though that is why Shannon loves her so much. Who else would?
11. One of the worst argument we ever had was about using fabric softener on towels.
12. She is shockingly passionate about never doing that, ever.
13. It's funny now but at the time I thought she was going to have a stroke.
14. I love her passion, even when it's misguided and misdirected.
15. I love it the most when it's guided and directed to me.
16. Trite but true, she is the smartest person I know. And I know a few people.
17. The only advice her dad ever gave me was that Shannon has never done a damn thing she hasn't wanted to do. Truer words never spoken, DAMN.
18. The kids are lucky to have her but I am blessed to have her.
19. The kids aren't optional for her but I know that I am and that she chose me and chooses to stay reminds me that some of the best things in life aren't in our control.
20. I love you Shannon. I love you I love you I love you.

Cancer Confessions

Ok just to be clear, I am high as a kite right now on some glorious mixture of painkillers that I don't even question and just swallow down like a good little patient. Apologies in advance for tangents, nonsensical and otherwise.

Anyway. With all the news about famous cancer patients (ie Farrah, Patrick Swayze), the recurring non-truth I hear espoused is that getting diagnosed with cancer is a life changing event, like right in the moment that the C Word is applied to you and/or your person. And I am only one person and can only speak from my experience but that wasn't what happened to me or many of the people I have talked to in the same shoes.

Truthfully, I was more put out at the idea of the time and expense of cancer than I was aware of the potential for death. I know, I know. Cancer is something we're all supposed to fear but I think a combination of things, namely that I was told initally it was pre-cancerous growths at worst and therefore had moved beyond being afraid of the real deal and also that we had so much other going on at the time (deaths deaths deaths, moving cross country, picking up a fourth kid along the way) that I was just like, fuck me. Seriously? Cancer? I have no time for cancer. Fuck cancer in the eye, I will give it none of my valuable resources, so there, deadly tissue, put that in your pipe and smoke it, bitch.

Yeah, I know. But honestly, I had so much other going on, you know, ''valid'' concerns (ha) that I was just pissed. Like cancer was some additional chore on my already full To Do list and I would get to it, eventually, but I wasn't going to be happy about it and I was damn sure not rearranging my life around it.

In my defense, when I was told I had cancer, at the time of the original diagnoses, it was also presented to me as something of a cancer-lite. Stage one, a few rounds of chemo and you will be rearing to go again in no time. And I believed that shit, full stop.

Now here is where I recognize a tangent coming on and warn you in advance but rather than advising you to skip it, I plead with you to stay with me for a minute. There is almost no such thing as finding Ovarian cancer stage one; by the time  you're having symptoms, it's almost assured it's already progessed to Stage two. Now, yes, yes, there ARE some people ''lucky'' enough to catch things before they go wild in a regular once-a-year screening. Not often, but yes fortunately, it does happen on occasion.

In other news, my snatch is a hot mess.

You people have been so freaking awesome. Thank you so much for essentially babysitting D last week on Twitter. Man was freaking out, heh. Naw, I don't mean to make light of it or of him. I have no idea what I would have done in his position. So many decisions to make and not a lot of time to ponder, really.

That said, holy shit balls, my snatch is a hot mess. Now granted, I had a 10+ pound baby vaginally so I know from a hot mess below the border. Jackson tore me a new one, literally. The squeamish amongst us can avert their eyes now but I tore this way (indicating sideways) and that way (indicating up and down). Like a cross, you see. It was horrifying and for the love of (not)fuck(ing) it took a long time to heal correctly but it did eventually heal.

But I am all hooked up and wired up and catheterized up at the moment so I can't really ''see'' for myself and I cannot trust what I'm ''feeling'' down there because, hello, it took me two days to realize all the talk of heart surgery and a stint was actually about me (I thought the bandages on my chest were...decorative? I dunno.) so I very, very stupidly asked for a mirror and an assist from my trusty husband who initially said not no but HELL NO because, well, I don't really know the why other than he was hoping for a miraculous recovery before I could get a good look-see.

Oh my hell, let's just say I ''won'' that battle of wills and document this because I'm only saying it once but, MAN, was he right. Nobody needs to see that kind of horror without copious amounts of liquor and a cash incentive. See, they told me there may, MAY, be a need for a ''small incision'' but it was not likely as the equipment was made and the surgery was planned for needing only a small amount of um, space. LIIIIIIARS!!! Naw, really, I'm not mad at anybody, just stunned at the handiwork. Yes, yes indeed they needed to make a ''small incision''. Shit looks like a road map to Siberia, I am not even kidding. I have not a single clue how long my designer original vadge will take to heal or what the ultimate functionality of it will be but whatever, I am so happy the surgeries were successful.

My only real question was why they didn't do something about the hemmoroids while they were down there, you know? What? I PUSHED FOR HOURS TO FORCE A TEN POUND BABY OUT OF MY BODY. You bet YOUR ass there remains a hemi or nine in the rear compartment.

I'm sorry if this is reading a little jumbled. I really just wanted to tell you guys thanks again for being such great support to Deels and my family. Right now, things look good (my snatch excepted, ha) and the plan is about another month in the hospital, still more chemo (now that it may have a chance to actually work), radiation and a truck load of antibiotics. Amazingly my fever has held the last several days at right below 100 which is not much above where it averages normally. I can seriously, no seriously, count on both hands the number of days since I had Jackson that I haven't had a fever (for those playing along at home, that is over two and a half years). Yes, seriously.

So all things considered, I'm doing just fine and am unbelievably blessed. D's parents and my mom have been PRICELESS in this whole debacle and my kids, oh my stinking ass rotten tearing this hospital down one brick at a time kids, they have been awesome beyond what anyone should expect of babes of their ages. First thing Sue asked upon hearing the whole 17 pounds explanation was a wide eyed inquiry of, ''OH WOW! Can I see it??!!'' She's a mess but lordy majority do I love them all. And I love you all, too from the bottom of my shag nasty nethers to the tip of my artificially stinted open heart (hee), I love you guys. Thanks again, innernetz.

17 Pounds

So they say her surgery this morning was a success. 17 lbs of tumors and diseased tissue was removed from her. SEVENTEEN POUNDS. This is plus the more than 10 lbs removed the first time. My wife was carrying around almost 30 pounds of shit that was killing her, including scar tissue that was not letting all the meds work as they should.

SEVENTEEN POUNDS. She is in recovery now but I still haven't been able to see her, to touch her, to kiss her sweet fucking face. My christ I have missed my wife. She is my damn best friend, you know. The Drs are all high fiving each other and huggung me and the kids but I want to SEE HER. They are very impressed witht the results of this surgery and said going back in now was the right best thing to do which is good right because that's what we did already so no second guessing now.

People, seventeen pounds!! I don't know. Seeing it in a number like that, like the first ten pounds just makees it more real to me, what my wife was carrying around. The illness inside of her, refusing to get better. Almost 30 pounds altogether, does that even seem real or right? how did she make it this long?? How did she...?? How was she living? I mean fuck. THat is a lot of disease to carry around plus the weight of just living this life.

Shannon Aileen you better KNOW I lvoe you, girl. Am cryingmy face off right now and I don't know what else to do but spit it out here. The kids are thrilled,  my parents are bouncing off the walls but I am just stunned that you're here, waiting for us, waiting for me, we're waiting for you to wake up but you're here, oh Shannon, I love you baby. Please don't be mad when you wake up and see what I let them do to you, I had to do it and I thkn I did right. 17 says I did? I don't know whatever, be mad babygirl but just be here.

So there it is for nmow, 17 lbs and waiting in recovery. Should be up in one or two hours. Thanks you guys.

Surgery Part III

Well I said I would not give the ok for more surgery until Shannon was awake and aware of the choices/consequences but I think I have no other choice. They want to go in vaginally again and get what they couldn't get the first time b/cause there was just so much and they were worried about keeping her under for so long. Which turned out valid seeing as she had unexpected surgery later because of it. Waiting also means the vaginal incision made already will have time to ''heal'' and it will be worse and more likely to get infected if it's allowed to heal and then has to be re-opened. God this is surreal talking so much about my wife's vagina to the internet.

So the vent is still down to 10% but she is nowhere near being chohrent or un-sedated but I have to go with my gut. Surgery in the morning at 8am and hopefully it won't take more than 2-3 hours. More hopefully we are on the downward slide and this is close to being over for Shannon. This has been a very long week and it's the longest I have went w/out talking to Shannon since I met her years ago. Even it was 2 seconds to say I love you babe, we have talked every single day and I can't even tell you how much I miss her and not to mention how much I hope like shit I am making the right decision.

Will keep you guys posted, thanks again for the concern.

Update

Sorry for being so demanding on Twitter last night. Yesterday was a really bad day.

Shan had surgery that lasted hours longer than we expected and could not breathe on her own for hours in recovery. She had a second unplanned surgery to put a stint in her heart, the first surgery really did about kill her. But ut was considered a success because they were able to remover a lot of diseased tissue and tumors. Like POUNDS of the shit that was killing her. No comment to what I said when they said ''success'' when my wife wasn't waking up.

The whole reason they refused surgery for so long was because of the MRSA and they didn't want to risk incisions getting infected or having her ''open'' long enough to complete debulking surgery on her ovaries. They did the first procedure vaginally and promised her there would be no need for an incision or basicallly an episiotomy. They were wrong. So she will wake up having been split from asshole to appetite seriously and oh my god, I am glad won't have to be the one to answer for that shit. No kidding. But thank the Gods, the universe, the power of love that she will at least be here to be mad. I almost lost my wife. Christ.

She is still in the woods this morning but the vent is down to about 20% now. She is very sedated but may be taken off the vent today or tomorrow. She is also on mega antibiotics to prayerfully head off her being septic again, her white count is in the tens of thousands still ---with normal being about 10-12k--but really that is not that much out of the normal for Shan because of the MRSA. What a fucking day and night. What a fucking life.

I don't know if Shan has told you that we sometimes call her ''coach'' because when she gets sick of the noise or bickering or everyone talking at once she will say Guys. Guys. GUYS. And man, once she gets to that 3rd GUYS, it's over. She claps her hands clap clap clap and says Enough! Enough! Let's get it together, act like we know what we're doing! It drives the kids crazy because she says it so seriously but really she just wants to choke the chaos and get them refocused. The kids occupied themselves for a lot of yesterday by clapping and GUYing themselves into giggles. They love her so much. Almost as much as she loves them.

I will keep you guys posted and thank you for endulging me last night when I was in such a panic. I never want another night like that but thanks very much for being there for us.

I win Mother's Day Schmother's Day

from suzanne harry and james

l  to me

show details 11:14 AM (5 hours ago)

Reply

nannon  i love you so much because you are my best friend. happy mother's day

Mother's Day Schmother's Day

At the risk of stirring up rumors of love that dares not speak it's name, I must again pimp my girlfriend Maggie and her Mother's Day post. And you know, yeah. A lot of it comes from a place of ugliness and jealousy, how much that post speaks to me. Not because I care or am effected when people get irritated with their kids. My loss doesn't cancel the fact that your kids are assholes sometimes because lord knows mine are and anyone who has endured a phone conversation with me peppered with, ''STOP THAT!!'' ''KNOCK IT OFF'' ''TO YOUR ROOM - NOWWWWWWWW!!11!!'' will concur, there is most assuredly some jackassery going on up this piece at all times. And that's okay, you know? Doesn't mean I love them less or am somehow dishonoring Jackson by not being all, ''WOW! YAY KIDS!!'' 24/7 because that shit is in no way possible (to never want to skin them like chickens) and also, they have not a thing to do with Jackson. But it doesn't mean that I don't miss him like crazy every single day and in many ways, her post speaks volumes regarding his loss.

All that to say, Maggie's post resonates with me because yeah, I am over it, so, so tired of the revolt that includes being absolutely appalled at the very idea that women with children are perceived as being *gasp* mothers or parents. You reproduced, you adopted, you fostered, you woke up to the stork making a visit, your sister became an out of control crack fiend, however it happened, you are a parent and the offense at the very notion that someone should make note of that is exhausting. No, really. It is, ladies. No, no, stop. Listen. I get it, we are more than the sum of our reproductive prowess, got that, get it, check. I know that we are more than our children becoming potty training, more than their milestones being checked off early, more than all of that, I know it, I live it, I feel it.

However.

Well, hello there, good looking

Lordy majority do I ever hate being sick. More on that later but for now some trivia, minutia, caterwauling, expression of general discontent and my generally upbeat lovely disposition. Also, be warned, I am high as a motherfucking kite right now, so expect lots of rambling. Apologies (hahhaa NOT) in advance.

Point the first, my twitter name is @charmingdriver. I used to have the twitter widget up there in the corner but I gave that real estate to the much more important cause of Maggie's (we love Maggie, by the way, go tell her she's pretty) domestic violence blog. Not that I couldn't add the widget elsewhere but see, I am OCD to an almost unbelievable level about blog bling and trifiling mis-use of web space. I know. I know. First world problems, etc. But, end of the day, chaos and I don't get along and I like as ''clean a screen'' as possible. All that to say, yes, my twitter updates are protected because, I don't know if you've heard or not, but there are some mighty egregeous assholes on this here internet and I like to have at least a heads up about who is reading my drivel, you dig. And right, I know, my blog is public and I usually have less than no idea who is reading unless they choose to comment BUT I also have talked much shit on Twitter about things that never make it to the blog so, yeah. I want to know who is reading. So, please, follow me, let me know you're out there, but also, please don't get it twisted if I don't see or reply to the e-mail right the fuck away. The only people I have ever ''blocked'' is spammers. If I can't tell who it is right away, I will send a message just asking who you are, where do I know you from, that's it. That's all. No subterfuge or snubbing, I promise and I swear that is fact. If you're wondering why I'm rambling on so much about this, there was a comment on the previous post wherein someone went so far as to actually ''regret'' having wasted time worrying about me because they assumed I had somehow snubbed them on Twitter. Please. I am one of the MOST egregious assholes on the internet, if I am getting about snubbing you, there would be no doubt.