Quick check in between boot camps: Today, thus far: good. We are getting a hand with tuition expenses from my step mom- who has saved our hineys on more than one occasion as well as provided the most sane representative of our extended clan. My gratitude knows no bounds. In facing the oncoming year of 2 tuition checks- totaling almost 1000 a month (The more expensive of which is PRESCHOOL. REALLY? For finger painting??? REALLY?- but we’ll save my rage at the US educational disaster for another day- FOCUS…) and- back to goooooddd… The help means more than we can say. It will give us the ability to (slowly) dig ourselves out of this credit card debit on our own. No more shady re-fi dudes.
The next good news: my MRI came back clear. Dr. Sean’s words were” Looks great!” Whew. Not that I was freaking out just… curious. In that constant low-level anxiety that you can get “curious” whenever you’re a cancer survivor. Having known what it feels like to be on the end of a “Not great” results phone call, every positive one counts that much more.
So- even though we’re only half way through- I’m gonna go ahead and call this particular Wednesday= GOOD.
GOOD DAY
REALLY, BILLING LADY… REALLY?!?!
Okay- so today started out great, getting stuff done, teaching the campers and EVEN did some work on the “Forgotten Script”. It felt good- made a commitment with 2 of my amazingly talented writer pals that we’ll all cheer & drag each other through our respective projects and it feels nice. So- THEN, I call this Dr. office. He was a dude that has been seeing my Mom for general stuff. Anyway- I get a bill from him for about $400.00 – AWESOME. Anyway- she can’t afford that on her SS and we certainly can’t so I call. Thing is- had they billed us in 30 day increments like they had, it would have been about $15.00 per bill but they let that crap sit for MONTHS then spring $400.00 on us. Not possible. So, I call and get connected to the billing dept. I proceed to tell the gal that my Mom only has Medicare and possibly some Blue Shield supplementary insur but that her assist. living has all that info and why didn’t they get it from them BEFORE all this $ owed accrued. She says- I don’t know that place but we need this money. I say well- I guess you better hope Blue Shield can come up with it because neither she nor we have $400.00 to drop. She says she doesn’t know those people (at her home) and I say- well, I don’t know why I’m getting this bill anyway- everything goes there and they submit it to her insur- why would this bill come to me. She says… (wait for it;)
“Well, your her daughter, it’s your job to take care of her.”
LONG PAUSE.
She doesn’t say anything, because I’m pretty sure that she knows she fucked up.
Now, if you have read any of this blogs’ past entries, you may be a little familiar with my… impulse control issue. That and my periodic insurmountable inability to PAUSE WHEN AGITATED and just run my mouth. I will give this away though: considering how I COULD have reacted, I think this broad got off easy.
(After our loaded beat, eerily calm voice:)…”Did you seriously just say that to me?” I question.
(Remorse immediately detectable, but not helping her now, quietly:) “Yes…”
Restraint removed, brakes off, momentum builds with the fury and hurt that can only build over YEARS: “Are you FUCKING KIDDING ME? Lady, you don’t even KNOW me! You don’t KNOW me, do you?! (Small”no…”) That’s right! Let me ask you this, do you KNOW what it’s like to watch a parent slowly slip away in front of your eyes every day?! (…no.) Do you know what it’s like to try and raise a family, beat CANCER and still try and support an ailing parent in a country that could give TWO SHITS about it’s sick or elderly?! DO. YOU.KNOW ANYTHING. ABOUT. THAT?! (…no.) WOW. Well, I hope- I HOPE you feel like a real ASSHOLE right now. How fucking DARE you presume to know ANYTHING about me? (”I didn’t mean…_)
So, at this point, badass that I am, start crying. I can’t let Billing Bitch hear that and Scout is crying (Just woke up- I do well at hiding my tirades from the kids) “You know what- I have to go- TAKE CARE OF MY LIFE and I’ll be calling back later, to speak with your SUPERVISOR.”
Click- FAST- before she hears my voice crack. Okay… now cry. Fine. Get it together- get Scout and proceed.
Now that the rage has worn off I feel a bit bad for her. Had no idea, obviously young and just trying to do a stupid job that requires her to shake down people for money they don’t have… Bummer. Anyway- I will call back but to clear it up/handle it. I won’t narc on her- probably f-ed up her day just as she did mine. What struck me is… I have no idea about HER either. As I ripped her a new orifice, SHE could have been sitting there with no left arm, or with an unwanted pregnancy, or horrible acne and a goat-like B.O. issue… I have no idea. I guess- the lesson for BOTH of us would be to not judge so quickly or harshly…. It’s a great sentiment NOW- 9 hours later but- it’s an entirely different scene to put into instant action… Ick. Gonna just try and revel in the successes of the 1st half of the day…. Which, for a Monday- was a LOT better… For both of us.
UPS & DOWNS
So, I have finished my book and am in a mild depression without it. But, figured I’d take the time to catch up. Every time I return, I vow to get more consistent, then life, apathy and angst intervene… It’s naptime though now so I’m stealing a minute. This will be a scatter-brained re-cap because so much has gone on. UPS: Max is “reading”. Slowly and with effort but it’s kind of amazing. I hope he takes to it like I did. If I can pass anything GOOD through my DNA I am hoping this is one… Another, everlasting immaturity. Another up: bootcamp is going well. While a couple camps are “slim” w/ summer vacationers and whatnot- others are VERY BIG. These are my “Mommy-based” camps with so many families staying home instead of traveling- why not work out? Love these campers. They help me everyday. UP: Doug. He just makes me laugh and love life even in the leanest times. Money- or lack thereof, is our greatest pressure and- while so many couples crumble under the stress of it- we seem to be rallying. Just sitting down and making a “game plan” seemed to relieve so much of that unknown, free floating anxiety. UP: Insurance finally approved and I got my MRI. Yes, they refused it initially because they are governed by satanic forces and Republicans. Mammograms are hard for me now because I don’t have a lot of “tissue:” to be squashed into that machine, so I need MRI’s to properly screen. Well, seems insurance only covers ONE. Period. Ever. Deeming others, “unnecessary”. Well, F-U very much, Anthem. My oncologist started his campaign- he was fully prepared for this- he deals with this type of BS every day- and got approval on the 3rd try. I went in last Wednesday and am awaiting, anxiously, my results. Sitting in that LOUD, insane tube for 45 minutes, completely still, just lets your brain go. One of the things that crossed my mind is how this type of test/activity is “normal” for me now. Don’t get me wrong, it’s nerve-wracking and anxiety provoking and sparks resentment to no end but.. it is my deal now. Odd. So, I wait. I still have 1-2 surgeries left to go but we simply can’t afford the down time/loss of work and the deductible…. One Nipple McGee lives on.
DOWNS: We’re broke as ever. Have nasty credit card debit piling up and are in the process of trying to sort our own way out (with x-ferring balances, payment schedules, and cutting out every possible “extra” that we can…again.) since our re-fi did not happen and has a snowball’s chance in hell since we’re both unemployed and banks are…”cautious” to say the least. So, we buckle down, again. The only option I have to try and contribute MORE than the bootcamp is to return to writing and I can’t seem to pull the trigger on that. I suppose there’s something psychological at the root but, to tell the truth, I’m just too damn tired to try and dredge that crap up and “examine” it right now. Denial seems like a more restful option. Still, every day I see this bulletin board with the 5 index cards of a LONG abandoned project and it mocks me. I leave it there to do exactly that and every day- I avoid this blog in the same way. It’s on me- I know this, yet can’t seem to find the impetus to dig my way out. Other DOWN: My mom is drifting. It’s inevitable with Alzheimer’s but, every time I go visit, she’s a little slower to recognize me. Confuses the kids with friends’ kids, confuses me with her sister, etc- and every time she loses more of her Goddamned teeth. Seriously. She has a buncha partials in cause she’s lived on junk food and candy for 30+ years (You can bet your ass I’m flossing like a crack-head every night in light of this) and she just takes them out and… Well, we don’t know what. See I, the nurses, the techs and my Aunt have all SCOURED her rooms, her old apt, her dressers, pockets and more and… Nada. I have this vision of her taking one out, sneaking out of the home at 4am, taking a bus to Riverside, burying it, then returning. Well, I’m done replacing them- NO $ and they’re done so we’ll wait until she looks like one of those shrunken Apple-head things and see what to do then. Through it all- she’s still as funny, sassy and sarcastic as ever AND will NEVER forget that she’s a smoker. The ONE thing that might be beneficial to “leave behind” and it’s ironclad… DOWN: We are facing tuition for Max AND Scout this month (for September) and aren’t sure how we’ll do that. GOD I HATE THIS COUNTRY’S EDUCATION SYSTEM!!! THIS STATE ESPECIALLY! The fact that we’ll eventually have to pay $750.00 a MONTH for PRE-SCHOOL; coloring, painting and recess?!!! Makes me wanna get in a guntower with a rifle. The fact that our public schools- even the ones here in Burbank- “Blue Ribbon Schools” are so sub-standard that we are provided little option but to go private or Catholic to insure our kids’ entry into good colleges…? REALLY?! We’re a f-ing SUPERPOWER? We spend MORE on PRISON INMATES than we do one our CHILDREN- I FEEL LIKE I’M TAKING CRAZY PILLS HERE!!?
…Annnyyyway- we don’t even know where Scout will be going in Sept. she’s enrolled at Laurel (Where Max went) but it’s too expensive and in the opposite direction of Max’s school BUT the times are great 8:30-2:45 fits perfectly with our current groups/schedule & Max’s. Our other choice is a smaller school, a teeny bit cheaper and “on the way” to Max’s school BUT they only have openings 1:30-3:30 which screws us in every way, as well as her & nap. We have about 2 weeks to figure it out. WHEE. That’s my purge for now- hopefully will get more “regular”… Peace.
HIJACKED
By The Passage by Justin Cronin. Will return to you in 200 or so pages.
CHAPTERS
Well- my long absence again… it’s just life, people. Doug and I are, literally, working our tails off to stay afloat. We have a dude currently shopping to every Acme Mortgage Lender out there to see if ANYONE will handle/take on our re-fi so we can get lower rate and pull some $ out to get out of the credit card mess we got ourselves into during the Cancer year… It doesn’t look good. Yes, our credit is stellar. Yes, we have SICK equity in the house but- alas- banks no longer look favorably upon the “self-employed”. Our Debit to income ratio makes us the fat girls at the mortgage dance… So- all we can do is keep working. The camps are doing well- great in fact but we’re both stretched VERY thin- no pun intended. I would complain but we’re beating the odds- opening a new business in the midst of a recession, and we happen to REALLy love our clients.
In the meantime- life keeps coming. Max is currently in the last week of pre-school… He just turned 6 and we took him and Scout to Disneyland hotel for 2 nights & 3 days with some great friends to celebrate. It was… remarkable. When Doug & I walked into the room with them, we both got teary. It was as if we had walked onto the red carpet at Dorothy Chandler Pavilion. WE HAD ARRIVED. I don’t know if it was nostalgia from our childhoods or how hard we had struggled to get there or the sheer joy on the kids’ faces or all of it but it was pure magic. The whole trip. Great friends, horrible fashion, junk food, no sleep and a LOT of laughs… Magical. We’re still riding high from it. I am having some feelings about this birthday of Max’s. For some reason 6 seems so… Big. I can’t believe it. And it just keeps coming; Scout is totally potty trained- I have left diapers behind forever and she’s going to start pre-school tomorrow. She got into this sweet, smaller school (not where Max is leaving because it was too expensive and in the opposite direction of Max’s K-8th so we applied) About that: they won’t give me a definite re; her entry in the fall and I’m kind of freaking out. We’re about to tell Laurel that she won’t be attending, because they want her 1st month’s tuition- and we’re “jumping without a net”. This new place- Westminster Presbyterian (Wow- for a heathen- I sure got a LOT of God going on…) has informed me that her chances are very good if she’s enrolled in the summer program, hence her starting tomorrow. She WAS supposed to start today but- MOTHER OF THE DECADE- totally spaced and didn’t look at her papers until too late. I called and the director assured me that plenty of other parents fuck up way worse… (She may have used different verbiage.) Anyway- I will be taking her in with Doug tomorrow with her new Princess lunchbox and a LOT of Kleenex for me… It’s only 9-12 but it will be so strange not having my little “road dog” around in the mornings. Max starts summer camp next week and I am already trying to figure out what I’ll be doing… I’ve been in charge of kids for so long. I’d like to think I’ll use the time to write. I really, really NEED to – it’s my only option to try and get us out of debt- but I’m SO rusty… And tired. 3-4 bootcamps a day will really tax a gal.
A few weeks ago I received $300.00 in hundred dollar bills in the mail. There was a typed note: “I just thought you could really use this”. No name, no address… couldn’t even make out the postmark. I posted on FB about it- a thank you. I cried upon opening the letter. One, that someone was so kind and thoughtful and generous and two- that we were the ones who needed it. I bought groceries for it and sent up a thank you to the Universe. I think I was way less of an asshole to people that week- just in case it was someone I encountered in my daily rounds… If you are a blog reader- dear, generous friend… send more. Just kidding- your actions were so appreciated and welcomed and it touched us very deeply. I am hoping that- someday soon- we will be in a better $ position to “pay it forward”.
As of now, we’re looking forward to July 4th, the summer, more milestones, more marks on the doorway as the kids keep growing and amazing us and more of whatever may come our way. Yes- we’re still broke but, God-damn, we have a good time…
ASSHOLES
Are everywhere. Don’t get me wrong. I’m in a FINE mood. Biz is BOOMING- had to stop taking people in one group, open another. The recession doesn’t give a shit about thunder thighs so, yay us. Max & Scout are AMAZING- she is, OFFICIALLY potty trained. It was so easy I can’t even claim any credit. The second I unwrapped those tiny, adorable Princess Panties- it was on. She will NOT soil Cinderella- nor any of her pals- woo-hoo.
Now- re; post title: They’re, sadly everywhere. That douche you’re secretly jealous of as he speeds past you on the freeway shoulder, that bitch in the parking lot of Target who gave you “that look” when you asked if you could use her cart when she unloaded. The Tea Party. Racists. Polygamists (CREEPY!), Roid Ragers, Frat Boys, Sorority girls, extended family, the list goes on and on… Assholes- all of ‘em. I’m up to my asshole in ‘em.
Tonight the assholes I speak of are f-ing SPAMMERS. Dregs- I’ll type again- DREGS of f-ing humanity. I just spent 45 minutes deleting and flagging f-ing SPAM from the comments. Russian, viagra, cialis, other blogs, you freaking name it- all WASTING MY F-ING TIME.
I WISH COPIOUS, PAINFUL, BLISTERING, INFECTED COLD-SORES ON ALL YOUR SEEDY LITTLE MOUTHS AND EXTREMITIES.
(Yes- a bit tame for the “Rager” of old but, I’m a mommy now- have to keep it in check.)
So a-holes there and.. sadly, everywhere- even people I know- or thought I did. Luckily for every ‘friendly” that “goes rogue” in my life, I have 20 opposing, loyal, giving, kind magnificent “keepers” to offset the irritation. Now, 1-2 years ago- I woulda sweat this one- now? I don’t have the time. I’m sorry. I tried- you’re welcome to your tiny treadmill of petty gestures and actions- good luck with that.
See you on the other side.
PUDDLES AND ENVY
So, yes- obscure- I blame lack of sleep. The first is in reference to Scout- who is potty training. It’s a full ahead of Max and I’m chocking that up to a girl/2nd child thing. It’s not a second too soon though because we’ve been looking at pre-schools for her. (The cost of Max’s school is getting daunting now that we’re on our own and will have to pay for both of them and… I’m ready for a change of scenery. The year before last was so magic and ended so badly with all the drama that I am a different Preschool Parent this year. I am a ghost. I go in, pick up and leave. I know a couple people well enough to say hello and make BRIEF, non-intimate nice-nice- then leave. I’ve learned my lesson. Anyway- I’m looking for a change and a drop in $.) So, the svhool that I LOVED is much smaller, closer and cheaper. Only drawback; they need to be potty trained to start. Ooookkkkayyyy. So, we’re “fast-tracking” her. Skittles rewards, princess underwear, constant praise and so far… it seems to be working. Though, I will say that the sheer convenience of a boy being able to just drop trou and pee “in nature” in an emergency is grand and I already miss it. She’s already a Viking- I can just picture her copping a squat in the middle of the playground because mommy “taught her”. So far so good though and I am impressed and proud. It’s amazing what a tiny amount of liquid or- dare I dream- a turd can do to change your whole mood. I used to take drugs for this. Imagine.
The “envy” is in relation to my latest t.v. obsession/writing block enabler: The Real Housewives. Now, I have been flipping back and forth betwen the Jersey broads and the New York ones. I hate some, am amazed, in a car crash kind of way by others, some I enjoy but mostly… THE FRIGGIN’ CASH these bitches spend??!!! SERIOUSLY?! I don’t know where it comes from but- f-ing A- we’re in a recession and these hags are dumpin’ cabbage like it was an Irish wake… I live in a constant state of; “MONEY IS WASTED ON THE RICH.”
…and still, I watch.
PERSPECTIVE
I know- another apology/catch up post. I have no idea when my life went into hyperdrive but it feels like I’ve been on a “run” ever since before the Marathon. With the new financial issues we have just been working- literally- to the bone to try and sweat ourselves out of debt. Considering the fact that my new meds (Tamoxiphen) have me hotflashing almost all day long in huge bouts of flop sweat- I SHOULD be ahead of the game but no… I just change clothes & shower a lot. It’s gotten so annoying that I am trying some herbal menopause relief… We’ll see. The joint pain is less but COME ON- I’m like Albert Brooks from “Broadcast News” every 30 minutes. SEXY.
To recap: We’re still broke and I fantasize daily about winning Lotto (would require me to PLAY, yes) or selling something. (Would require me to WRITE.) In the meantime- a friend has her entertainment lawyer pimping my script to prod. co.’s and it went out to 7 of them this week. Maybe ONE will get read but it’s something. We are living- literally- bill-to-bill. It’s stressful and Doug tries not to go nuts cause he’s a dude and that’s what they do but we cheerlead each other when one panicks and- as long as we co-ordinate NOT freaking on the same day- we’re good. I try and keep in mind that- I survived f-ing Cancer, I’m alive, the kids are fed, clean, loved and happy and who needs vacations or 2 nipples anyway?
The Revlon Run/Walk was last weekend. It was CHAOS. NOT a runner’s race. Too many people, no organization and little co-ordinating. Seemed like they just wanted to cram as many bodies in there as they could. Having said that- it was also inspiring and emotional. All these signs with all these lost angels, all the survivors- hopeful and bright, all the families- championing their loved ones… I was humbled and proud (When I wasn’t sweaty and claustrophobic.) I met a friends mother, Rina who was a “Bettie” with us. She is undergoing chemotherapy and was in a wheelchair decorated with pink streamers. She was BEAUTIFUL and made the entire she-bang well worth it. At the finish she stood, took of her jaunty pink turban and walked across with her grand daughter (and Max’s future wife) Autumn. The picture is breathtaking and I have referred back to it repeatedly this week when I’ve been pissy about this or that= instant perspective.
Max has decided that he wants to go to Disneyland and stay for 3 days for his b-day instead of our usual HUGE party at home. We’re cool with it and will take the $ hit because we need to. I am struggling with trying to find the time/energy to write my next script and it continues to elude me. 3 bootcamps a day, 2 kids, Facebook, and T.V. have all conspired to defeat me…
We’ll see- am hoping to keep up on the blog- in spite of it all, as practice.
WE CAN DO IT
So- have been so spazzy and sporadic- have neglected to mention and give full attention to the REVLON 5K RUN/WALK to help fight womens’ Cancers. Bettina, one of my campers brought it up and talked me into starting a team. Well, we’re now 32 strong and have raised almost $4,500.00 to date. VERY PROUD. It takes place next Sat, May 8th and we’re doing a “Rosie The Riveter” theme”… Because if we can’t be the biggest, richest or fastest- we’re DAMN sure gonna be the most stylie.
ANYWAY! Got an email from my DEAR, hilarious, amazing pal PAIGE yesterday and am re-posting it below because it was just too amazing to keep to myself. She rules in ways I can’t even write about… But, see for yourself: I bring you PAIGE (Today’s guest BLOGGER:)
The First Mile
eardrums hungry with appetite for “The Boss”.
he lays down “10th Avenue Freeze Out”, and my pace feels lively.
not sentimental melody, but mindless. a good beat. i give it an “8″.
i shift into more than anyone’s fair share of “earth wind and fire”;
reminded of the days i waited tables on Anthony Kiedis, Steven Speielberg, and Peter Fonda.
playing cymbals and drums as the treadmill belt takes me where i think i’m going.
heart rate 145
The Second Mile
further into the playlist, tunes equally mindless, beats are driving. cake, b-52’s, inxs.
scenes are projected on the empty brick wall across from me.
jack crying earlier in the day. my lack of empathy. cailyn sucking her thumb at school. doubting choices.
new ideas, solutions to problems, retorts to unfinished arguments. i am prolific.
nearing the end of Mile 2
Brian Setzer Orchestra..
swinging with each step. brass blaring. and he says, “BEAUTIFUL!”
it is.
if my body could do what my ears are hearing…i’d be…well, i’d be dancing.
like Brooke.
she swing dances.
she lives. she lives. she lives. she is living with cancer. sort of.
one new breast. one old one. new hormones. sweaty.
all kinds of crazy funny. all kinds of epic courage.
i start to cry.
blink.
blink.
blink.
INHALE!!!!!
more surging love. more aching at this world.
my friends who are grieving. my friends who are struggling. my friends who are trying to embrace the unknown, bravely trusting, holding fears at bay.
a flood of souls, mandalas of yearning, longing, fighting, winning and resting
in life and love.
i miss my father.
The Third Mile
Under Pressure-Bowie and Queen.
welcome, gentlemen.
pace back up.
‘how are the kids in childcare? i hope jack isn’t hitting.”
Jackson 5-Dancin’ Machine…
How the hell did they expect Michael not to be screwed up? He’s 10 years old singing about sex!!!
almost finished…sweating good. heart rate160. is that good?
David Byrne.
AND SHE WAS, repeat. AND SHE WAS, repeat. AND SHE WAS.
and i was.
walking up the stairs, stretch in private.
Yoyo Ma…
laying on my back. staring at ceiling.
these are the same eyes that will be staring out of an old person’s body.
Slaughterhouse Five moment.
beautiful, surreal, presently blissful.
love,
paige
ps, i will be participating in the Revlon 5K. the above is my training regimen.
UPS & DOWNS
So, yes- have been away for ages and I HATE when I do that because it always means I have a HUGE update post to face which makes me put it off more and then there’s this cycle then Oreos.
Somehow- it always spirals there.
Anyway- that, plus the fact that I’m trying to figure out where the blog and this entire site will end up. I am keeping it up thru the year cause our hosting is paid but the blog is the only active thing on it. Still haven’t heard from the Radio Programmer Fairy Godperson….
Updates: Our refi did NOT go thru because our accountant is a genius with our deductions/write offs but the bank says we make too little to give us a refi right now. In fact we don’t but… they’re a bank and suck by their very nature. I was disheartened but not defeated.
So, in response to this financial crisis- we got a dog. (It’s either that or Disneyland and we had too much work for the Kingdom that week) He was a gift. that fell into my inbox via an email from a friend. His owner of 5 years was looking for the perfect home for him and VERY picky about it. Of course- I was done for when I saw the pic. It began an “interview” courtship process that was stressful (because I SUCK under pressure; start swearing, getting jittery, inappropriate jokes like some drunk uncle at a wedding- SUCK) and amazing. He chose us because the instant Wylie and Watts saw each other it was LOVE. They haven’t stopped since. He’s been w/ us 2 weeks now. He is a handsome, protective GIANT Snuffelupugus of a dog and we are so lucky to have him. (Yes, I cried when his owner said goodbye- duh.)
On other fronts; yes- we’re still in a crap spiral of credit card debit. I can only think/rally to write myself out of debit. I am pushing this script wherever I can and actually contemplating how the F I can possibly write this pilot. (BTW- have concluded that TV and Facebook are my mortal creative enemies…) Whatever the case we really are doing well- the camps are picking up every month and going really strong. We can only rally- we have no choice- we can’t get any other pets.
Max & Scout are amazing. He is getting through this last year at Laurel. We mentally have one foot out the door. He’s signed up for summer day camp- his first time- it looks amazing- we’ll see. He’s approaching 6 and I’m having a hard time with it, for some reason… It just seems so… Big. Anyway- his b-day is 2 months out and his wish list already reads like War & Peace. He said that he only wants to go to Disneyland Hotel for 3 days & nights… “And that would be my big present.” So, we may be using that as our summer vacation this year.
Scout is… a force. Beautiful, stubborn, genius and hilarious. She’ll be starting school 3 days a week this September. I am conflicted. I grin at the concept of having 4 whole hours to myself 3 days a week then I burst ourt crying at the same fact… Ugh. Mommywood.
P.S. My husband continues to cook for us and make me laugh until I spit stuff from my face. Who could ask for more?
Oh yeah- the new tamoxifen/cancer pills make me hot flash 3X’s worse – like Albert Brooks from Broadcast news. Joint pain is less though. It’s fine- could be chemo so- what’s a little flop-sweat. Still, we’re not talking a “dewy glisten”- this is a full on WATER SPOUT. From 0 to DRENCHED in 2.3 seconds. And you wonder why I don’t wear makeup often…?