Empty Lump ...emotional hump

It was a Tuesday afternoon and a week of waiting was finally going to come to an end. It’s been a week of wondering, pretending not to worry when behind my outward positive attitude; my brain is in pre-panic mode. The letter was so cold and clinical.

Top of the page, I am part of project no. 096475. Following you recent breast x-ray, it has been found necessary to ask you to attend for a further screening examination… time, date and place were noted and they said, feel free to bring someone with you if you wish.

Anyway, that was the gist of it. I have a terrific, supportive man but I saw through his ‘everything-will-be-fine-attitude.’ He loves me, and he’s worried too.

We walked hand in hand up the sidewalk of Norfolk and Norwich University Hospital to the Breast Imaging Department, Level 3, and West wing. The signs were easy to follow and the place looked large, new, but cold on this warm June afternoon. We walked up one flight of stairs, through the door and in the direction of ‘Breast imaging.’

There were two women, we assumed nurses, behind the reception area. I walked up and announced myself.

“Have a seat please; we will call you in a few minutes.”
Alex spied a pedestal fan and turned it on. The chairs were hearing aid beige and chilly vinyl, carpet colour wheelchair grey and walls painted a neutral deep terracotta colour. No pictures were hanging anywhere, but on the far end wall are nine cheques, enlarged and framed to publicize the community minded and profitable businesses, that support the development of this new breast screening unit. On the reception counter was a bouquet of milk white carnations poking up from a waterless glass vase, announcing to all; we’re fake! We’re fake! I’m hoping my lump is fake.
“Alex, I have to pee.” I always have to pee when I’m nervous. I excused myself and walk down a hall to the washroom for handicapped people.

When I returned, Alex was leaning over the counter speaking with a nurse.
“I’m sorry for being so vague, but I really can’t tell you anything else. You can speak to the Dr and ask any questions then.”
I gave his hand a little tug, “Let’s sit down, It won’t be long.”

“I knew you would have to interrogate them.” I spoke quietly.
“I was over there like a shot, as soon as you headed for the door.”
“What did you say?”
I said, “yo Doreen, give me the S.P. on my wife’s tits.”
I laughed aloud. Four other angst ridden women looked at us.
“You did not,” I grinned.
“Maybe not, but I made ya laugh.”
“Did ya notice, I wore my new shirt for the occasion?”
“And fits your belly pretty good to, no gapping buttons or anything, very handsome you are.”
“And stylish, don’t forget stylish.”
“Alex, I appreciate your support more than you know. I don’t see one other guy here.”
My name was called.
“Want me to come?” Alex asked.
“I’ll ask her.”
When I did, she said she was going to show me the x-ray and than we will see the Dr for an ultra-sound.
“Your husband can come with you than if you like.”
I gave Alex the open handed finger bend, signalling five minutes.

I stood there looking at the grey photo of my mammary glands and she pointed to a dark spot on my right breast.
“This is why you’ve been invited back.”
Invited? What a word to use… like, it’s a party of something.

It was all of one minute, to see a dark spot and then she led me through the other door, back to wait with Alex.

Another fifteen minutes passed and we’re called again, this time to another room with the ultra-sound equipment. A nurse explained what would happen. Remove you upper items of clothing and lie on the table. The Dr will be here in a few minutes. Alex helped me take of my white lacy blouse, and unfastens my new white lacy bra. I lay on the table with a white towel over my quivering breasts. The Dr came in, introduced himself and shook my hand.
I didn’t even hear his name…. Just get on with it

He smeared the gel on the right outer side of my breast and asked me to tilt on my left hip. The screening procedure took all of four or five minutes.

“If you look at the monitor, you can see what we were not sure about. Looking on the screen, I am fairly confident this is nothing but a harmless breast cyst. They come and go with hormone fluctuations. It appears we’ve worried you for nothing.” The Dr. says.

I sat up, wiped the slippery gel off. I was relieved. I saw relief on Alex’s face. He fastened my bra for me. I slipped my blouse back over my head and down over my breasts. So, I keep them for awhile longer. Next x-ray, they will hang a bit lower. The nurse presented me with a pamphlet.
“You will be called for another x-ray in three years. If you notice any change or anything unusual see your Dr.”

That’s it. We’re outa here.
Alex lead me into the shop before we leave.
“Let’s buy something, a remembrance of the positive outcome.”

What a great idea a gift for health. Everyone gives gifts for sickness; we’ll get a gift for health!

We browsed the shop and decided on a blue and white stained glass cat wind-chime and a ‘yellow finch,’ the yellow-finch is a little ceramic bird. We could have chosen a Wren, Sparrow, or Snowy Owl. There was even a bird named Blue Tit.

As we drove home, I had a flashback from last night.
“Alex,” I said. “I am clueing in now – I remember last night and just before I fell asleep. You reached your hand over to my breast and gave it three taps with three fingers.”

“I was just seeing if you were awake.”

“I think you were preparing for today.” I smiled.

“Do ya think I’m a voodoo man?” He grinned

“I think you are a special, man,” I said.

“Got you fooled, haven’t I?” He said, with a tousle of my hair.

We arrived home while the sun was still warming the garden.

“Get your kit off girl and soak up yer vitamin D.” Alex said.

I needed no coaxing and felt delight in the heat of the sun on my bare flesh, back and front. My breasts soaked up the sun’s rays – x-rays are a fading memory.
Once again, the gift of togetherness, from the man up above, is tested, and we’re blessed once more. We expect the optimistic, instead of dreading the pessimistic.

More than three years have passed since this experience. I thank God every day for my gift of health. When I see friends, employees and family members struggle with health challenges, it reminds me to be truly thankful for this daily gift. None of us know how fleeting it can be.

Loving in a unique way

I have been up for five hours. Have enjoyed breakfast ritual with my husband and kissed him out the door at 07:30. He is working out of the house today and I have been busy in. After a quick trip to the local market, I have returned to begin the house chores. Bathroom finished and now a break for a cup of coffee and a peanut bar!

I am rewinding my memory tapes to Thursday night when I had severe pains in my abdomen with a huge hard bloated tummy.
“I have terrible gas pains Alex.”
“Time for bed anyway – I will come with you and give you an Alex fix.”

Into bed we climbed.
“Give me a pussy position.” He asked.
I positioned on my knees with head down and elbows on the bed leaning down with bum in the air. Alex reached under and began moving and pushing and rubbing my abdomen.
“That hurts!”
“Be patient, only for a few moments.” “Okay, now onto your back.”
There was more rubbing and tapping and gentle thumping.
I began to burp lots of air coming from the upper tubes.
“Now lay on your side with your knees up.”
I had my back to his front and I knew he was right in the line of fire if my rocket did blast off.
“Just relax – let it come.”
More squeezing and shaking of my tummy,
“It’s coming.”
Alex flipped off the duvet leaving us open to the air and out came the longest, loudest, biggest bum-burp I have ever had!
“Oh dear,” I gasped then laughed.
Alex laughed aloud. “Now there ye are - the cause of your bloated sore belly has been exorcised!”

I have had stomach aches in the past and maybe pop an antacid or just suffer. I have not been so in touch with my natural digestive system.
“I wonder what gave me that load of gas.”
“Probably what you had for lunch, left over salad, cabbage, onion and bean salad; triple methane makers!”

The Duvet was tucked back over our spooned bodies and I slept like a contented burped baby!

It is the little everyday things that cement a relationship and keep us feeling loved. I am thankful for the love in my life.

We were both tired from our four hours drive and our Friday night dancing. To-day we had walked around all the exhibits again and we had used the Spa facilities and spent time in the steam room. Alex had a short nap while I did my nails in preparation for the black-tie dinner dance.

Now he looked suave and debonair in his black tux and I wore my red dress with red sequined heels. We started making our way down to the Mallard Suite where the dinner-dance was being held.

We had met some of the people last evening at the Friday night function. And there were some new-comers here tonight. Deb was one of the women I met Friday night. The singer in the band tonight is her boyfriend. So she is here with him, yet alone. She worked the floor Friday night dancing her booty off in her little black dress, stockings and heals. Her hair is brunette and shoulder length. Tonight she wears a peach coloured dress that just barely covers her rear. It has rows of ruffles and is low at the front. Deb has been dancing up a storm since the band began.

We got up and danced some but the music was just not as great as the performers last night. They were two gay guys and they were really great. Alex and I seemed to be working to have fun tonight. And many of the others left soon as dinner was finished. We carried on dancing when the band returned for their last set. Deb carried on dancing round the room and tried to coax a couple up that were at our table. No one was game and the female partners were showing obvious possessiveness of their men. Deb then decided to jump up on the empty table next to us and begin dancing on the table in her stilettos on the white table cloth. The table did not look all that strong. We could see it giving in the middle from her weight. Alex pulled the camera out and held it up to take a photograph.

“If you take that photo I will delete it.”

He put the camera in his pocket and said quietly, “time to go I think.”
We said good bye to Nick and Janet sitting beside us and walked past Deb dancing on the table.
She leaned down to speak. “Are you leaving?”
As we walked through the lobby and down the hall, Alex was silent.

Back in our room the air was thick was his unspoken anger.
We both undressed and put on the terry robes. I washed my face and brushed my teeth ready for bed. It was now midnight.

Alex spoke. “Don’t ever say that to me again.”

Was he over reacting? Was I oblivious to what had just happened?
Alex sat in the chair and I lay on the bed.
After five minutes Alex came to the bed and lay beside me.

“Do you want to tell me what is going on?
I didn’t think you needed to be taking photos of her. We already have photos of her from last night.

Alex spoke. “And last night you were dancing with her and enjoying yourself. What is different about tonight?” You don’t need to be jealous of anybody. I’ve been dancing with you all night – I was sitting beside you. Were you not getting enough of my attention?”

He went on…”and who takes the photos off the camera?”
“Well, I do.” I said. “I wonder if you would have thought it entertaining if it were me who got up to dance on the table.”
“I would have thought great, I would have been thrilled to see you enjoying yourself and being free.”

“Well, I was embarrassed for her and thought she was over the top in seeking attention”

“I think you were judging and I think you were jealous that she had a bit of my attention. Don’t ruin our relationship based upon habits from your past relationship. Do you not want me to love you any more? I am with you and I was sitting beside you when I was pointing the camera. You don’t need to worry about me. When I am away from your or when I am with you. I think you are just overtired – we are both tired and I don’t think we need to discuss it any longer tonight. We may talk about it on the way home tomorrow, when you have time to reflect and when we have both had a good sleep.

I reflect upon it all today. It now seems trivial. Do I have anything to learn from my actions? I do have a tendency to fall backwards…into insecurities…into thinking I need to compete with others…compare myself with others. Alex has never said to me; don’t take a photo of whomever or whatever. Was I being controlling when I spoke out to him and in the process revealed my own insecurities and jealous streak? Sadly yes. I thought the green-eyed monster was long buried and this incident lets me know old bad habits need consistent vigilance and awareness. I am lucky I have a confident man who knows me and reassures me daily. I am thankful I have a partner who can discuss things with me and not go into a rage if he doesn’t like something. I will keep working on my subconscious insecurities and work at acknowledging the love that comes my way daily.

Time to Play

A significant comment was made today by my beloved. We enjoyed a special half hour in our local Wymondham coffee shop and indulged in a treat. Wheat free-gluten free choc cake for me with ice cream and Alex had a pancake with bananas and ice-cream + toffee sauce drizzled on top! We sipped our coffee and savoured our dessert, the first in a few weeks.


Next we walked across to a charity shop to have a snoop. Alex found me two new over the shoulder purses; one large one for use everyday and a small one for going out. Then I tried on a size ten pair of Liz Claiborne jeans and they fit! I came out of the fitting room with a smile.

“Did you go across and get that Canada cap yourself?” Alex asked a senior man.
I took notice of the elderly man, dressed casual and with a cap with Red letters on it…CANADA. On the cap he also had a bee pin.
“My son lives near Barrie.” He replied. “He has an estate there with all kinds of wildlife and trees.”
I thought to myself, here it would maybe be an estate. There it is just a piece of land in the north.
“Have you been to visit him?” I asked.
“No, we’re too old to fly. Eighty and my wife would have heart flutters the whole way. We’ve never flown!”
“Take a boat.” Alex commented.
“My son was here to visit us this summer. He couldn’t wait to get back there.”
“Linda is from Canada.” Alex said. “We’ll likely end up there one day.”

We left that shop and stopped at another charity shop. I found a new belt to wear with my jeans. We browsed for awhile and then strolled back to the car about 4:30. These little snippets of normalcy together are like cement for holding all the relationship bricks together. When so much of our time is spent dealing with work crisis re people issues or vehicles repairs.

This evening as we sat watching television, I muted the volume during a commercial.
“That is the very first time you have actually said those words Alex… that we may end up in Canada one day.”

“I know… I knew you would pick that up. There was a reason for saying it.”
It gives me a glimmer of possibility to hold on to. In ten years Alex has never actually said that. He knows how torn I sometimes feel between longing to be near family yet loving and being committed to him. I made the choice ten years ago and always held hope that one day I would return to Ontario and family with Alex. He has never given me glimmer until this afternoon. I will hold on to that! And I will build my excitement daily towards my flight next month to see family.

Mother ctd.

He wears grey trousers a dark; blue short-sleeved shirt, navy socks and beige loafers. On his right arm is a watch. This is the first time I’ve noticed this; most people wear a watch on their left arm. She sits on his left side, leaning into him affectionately. She looks demure in a light blue blouse and darker blue slacks, with her hands clasped between her knees. On her feet are white socks and white lace up trainers. She wears glasses. They both wear a teenage smile and you can see the love bubbling over as they sit on a rocky shore with sand and pebbles at their feet. They are on their honeymoon. I describe my mother who at this time was seventy and her new husband seventy-one. I gaze at a photo of them taken by one of her daughters.

 We were thrilled to see her happy and in love. She had had a ‘less-than-perfect’ marriage with our father for about forty years until he fell to the floor in their trailer home, dying of a heart attack. After her husband’s death she was baptized into the Baptist church. I thought this was so sad. Not the fact that she was baptized, but the fact that she felt she had to wait until her husband, was gone before she felt free do this, in the little Baptist church that she took us to when we were little girls..

 She spent a few years adjusting to being on her own. She made women friends for the first time and played rummy with them, went on bus trips and excursions. She bought her own home by the lake and began fresh, near most of her off-spring. She now lived a short drive from two of her daughters and two of her sons. Two other daughters were only an hour’s drive away. I’ve not ever heard my mother complain. Never about how hard she always worked. Never about our father, who sometimes treated her like crap and other times wrote her romantic poems. When she went through a depression at forty-five, after her hysterectomy; he dressed her up in ‘hot-pants’ and she pleased him by wearing them. I recall the two of them coming to visit me when I was pregnant with my little girl. I looked like a blimp and she looked like a ‘hot mama’. She would be called a ‘yummy mommy’ in today’s language. I felt inferior, likely not a new feeling if I am honest.

Twelve years have passed since I wrote the above.  Mother is now almost 92 and in a Nursing home.   She started her mental decline near Eighty and  now has dementia.  She does not eat on her own, needs to be fed.  All her daily functions that one has just being alive, require support.   She rarely speaks or even opens her eyes yet, she opens her mouth to eat and drink.   Life is so very unfair.  So ironic when you know that our mother worked for 35 years in a nursing home as a health care aide.   She rarely had a sick day and carried out her job with compassion and dedication.  Mother never smoked, never drank alcohol,   I wonder at the luck of the draw as we age, myself now seventy-one.   

Mother

I read my sister’s blog this afternoon and begin to acknowledge our Mother’s dementia. Last time I was with her my husband was with me as well as my best friend Linda May and her husband.

It was a Sunday and Roy decided they would skip church today. Instead we all went out for lunch at a local Restaurant in Bayfield and then we went to Grandbend to play mini golf. It was a great day together, something totally different for Mom. She seemed to have clarity of thought that day. We didn’t ask anything of her, we were all just being together.

I’ve know other people of an old age who had dementia but it is different when it is mother. I feel like I have been out of my family’s life for the last ten years. With a once a year visit it is not possible keep in touch with everyone of them. I wonder how in touch I was with mother when I did live near enough to drive over. I can remember her driving to Dundas when I first moved there. In fact she loaned me $2000.00 to help me leave the farm, sixteen years ago. I repaid the debt within a year. I recall meeting her at the elevator of the sixth floor and seeing her for the first time with her white hair. I guess that was my first acknowledgement that ‘mother was aging’.

I remember a few years earlier, sitting in a car, just Mom and I. I shared with her the miserable man she had for a husband and gave her details of father’s abuse. I had been in a counseling group for abuse survivors. I don’t know what I thought would happen. I don’t know if I thought she would kick her husband out. I don’t even know why I told her. “That’s just terrible.” She said. We didn’t talk about it again. She didn’t ask, “Did this happen to any of your sisters.” She just carried on with her life as she had before.

During a time that I lived on the farm with my Ex., and when I had graduated college at 41, she came to visit. She gave me £50.00 and we went shopping and bought a new outfit for work. It was blue culottes with a white blouse.

I am glad that I always listen to mom when ever she telephones. The past few years it’s been the same. She talks and I listen. It was like she just needs to know I am still here and even if she will never get here to see me, she knows I always listen. She doesn’t ask anything about me. She always says, “Say hello to Alex.”
Then she ends by saying, “Well I don’t know what else I can tell you – that’s about all my news for now.” I say, “Love you mom” She replies, “Love you to.”

That’s all that matters. I don’t think a mother ever forgets how to love, whether she has dementia or clarity of thought.

I’ve got lots more to write about mother but this is enough for now.

Early to Rise

I love mornings - it is my favourite time. It is always a chance to begin again, start fresh. It's been raining all night so everything is that brilliant 'after-the-rain' green. The flowers are at their peak in the front garden. We have three different shades of pink and some red. Geraniums and inpatients, thick and lush. When they are past their best, the chrysanthemums will be in bloom in purple and yellow.We have had our breakfast together, our morning tradition, we sit face to face - not at the table like most people but in our worn out leather chairs. My man's feet are beside my thighs and my legs outstretch on top of his and we have a blanket over us. We have our ritual porridge pass, three times taking turns at the ceremonial rhyme. This reveals our emotional fragility or our upbeat creativity. It's kind of like the weather barometer only for our emotions. We have our protein shake and our umpteen vitamin pills; vit E, vit B12, iron, Vit C to help absorb the iron, Omega 3, cod liver oil, Goji berry tablet, calcium, glucosamine sulphate and a special hair and nails vitamin. Next our cup of coffee and we are ready to begin our day. My husband has a bit of a head ache this morning so he is having thirty min in his chair alone, then we will go to the gym. We have had a three day break from the gym since our 6 mile run. We are ready to go again!

Just a body or Spirit holder?

I read my sister's blog and was awestruck at the similarity in mindset regarding the death of our Sister and how it impacted each of us. It has been six years and it feels like a blink. I said I was heading to the gym at eight thirty and but got distracted reading on line and now it is eight forty five!


But I am on my way today - three days in a row to our local gymnasium. Tomorrow I will be able to go swimming. Saturday morning is all children's lessons. I have a sore shoulder, possibly for over-extending myself and pretending I am still forty instead of almost sixty. There are lots of other activities I can do. Cross trainer burns 300 calories in thirty minutes! Then I use the bikes, the treadmill and I can work with the hand weights to keep my arm muscles from shrinking.


When I work out and sweat I feel lifted. My endorphins begin flowing again and I look on the world through brighter eyes and with a happier spirit. The sun is lifting in the sky this morning and I have weeding to do, housework to keep my busy. At noon I will make a trip into work to see how Bridget is doing and see that she gets a break. There are always chores to be done but there is none more important than taking care of my spirit holder. In doing so, I take care of my spirit.

Sentinals

This photo was taken a few years ago when my husband and I were on holiday in Spain. When I look at it today, it has a whole new meaning than it had at the time we were there. In general I had a take it or leave it attitude with Dogs - more often leave it. Especially a dog that I did not know.

Recently a member of my family lost their dog - even worse... drove over the little wiener dog in their driveway. She was so upset and they have had the dog for ten years , since a puppy. She had not always liked the dog, for example when it peed on the carpet when ever a visitor entered their home or if he got excited...which didn't take much! Of course she would never have wished him dead! but she may have wished him gone and at one time even gave him temporarily to her father to take home. Her husband on the other hand loved the dog like the dog loved him. So as you can imagine she was was an emotional rubbish heap when this happened. Will they get another dog? Possibly but sensibly not right away.

This incident prompted my beloved to tell me about his dogs. He had two in his adult life and one as a young boy. As a boy, when his dog was run over he ran away for a week! and grieved for months. When his last dog got old and feeble and arthritic he bought an old Citroen with a suspension that could lower just so his dog could get in on her own and maintain her dignity. Even now when he talks about her he gets teary eyed with the memory.

So what is it about dogs, that attaches them with such superglue to our soul. It might be that they hold no grudges. If you are in a mood one day or shout at your dog or call it a nasty name if it chews your best shoe - The dog won't remember the next day. When you come home from work, your dog will greet you with that wagging tail and excited demeanor just as if you never said a mean thing ever! They don't have a file in their brain marked (skeletons, save for future ammunition) If you are sad or happy or angry... your dog doesn't care, they still love you and will be loyal to you. They will still come and look at you with love in their eyes.
We all should work more to have the wide-opened eyes of a dog because it might make the world a better place. Even if it makes 'your' little world a better place it will be worth it. So go in Love and forgiveness and peace.

Special Sister

Had a link from my sis to this blogging site. I enjoy writing but I am not as open as I once was. Maybe this will help me dig deeper. I found Writing from my sis eloquent, soft and vulnerable.... and she is a special person. I will begin with a little journal about my day. I enjoyed mail from my friend who is fighting cancer. I marvelled at her strength and positive energy. I enjoyed a face to face breakfast with my husband and feel fortunate that I am connected to such a sharing, loving person.
We went together to the gym where we each do our own thing along side six or seven others on an early morning. We are separate yet together. So blogging is a new thing for me and one of these days I may be as open and eloquent as my Sis. until then.....