MamaZ

I've got two beefs at the moment: 1. I just got back from a vacation at the beach with my teens. I have better fitness and energy levels than they do, typical if we older gals take care of ourselves (and our kids are not atheletes). They wanted to do very little, yet certain activities are unsafe alone, or for a woman alone. (Surfing big wave conditions, snorkling off shore when rip may be present, etc). These kids are about to leave the nest. Remarriage seems highly unlikely. Am I to pass on the adventures in life because D died? I didn't! I am, thankfully, still healthy and alive! 2. I just want to scream a big "F--- You" to the know-it-all stay at home mom preaching that "at least she does not let someone else raise her kids" while some of us "choose" to work. WTF does she know? AzzHat! (Thanks, that felt gooood!)

I just snorted coffee at that! (: Rob, I wanted to compliment you on not turning this into "you WILL believe, or else", but rather focused on what it means to commit and be reliable to others. Not an easy way through it, any way you try. I greatly respect what you tried to do, and greatly appreciate the humor that you somehow managed to retain. Nice job, Dad!

My kids are 15 and 18. I spend a LOT of time with both and with each, one-on-one. They are quickly figuring out this world, and their place in it. They are, apparently, VERY comfortable discussing virtually anything with me. I frequently see them emulating or trying out things they hear or see me do. They are SPONGES at this age, taking in more of what I impart than they ever have before. It is both daunting and wonderful. I share in many of their activities (band, arts, and academics being huge), and cross into their realm a bit, so far as music, movies, books, and internet go. However, when the chips are down, they know I am mom and not teen aged buddy wannabe. So far, it's working. The parenting is far from done, though. Don't expect a cleaner house with teens, BTW. Mine cook just enough to make a mess of the kitchen while leaving dishes all over the house.

DH had a purely undifferentiated cancer, highly malignant. We could not even say sarcoma or carcinoma to help guide treatment (was stage 4, inoperable). Our primary onc, I am convinced, knew it was hopeless, but hesitated to dash what hope we had. As a vet, I knew this was grim, but had no idea how grim (89 days). The regular onc just made recheck appts every two weeks. Symptoms changed daily. The cancer spread like fire. The onc even with held results, probably dreading telling us. The palliative radiation onc was quick to show us results, even when the primary was not, as we seemed to go for radiation most days. I greatly appreciated his candor. The best though, was the surgeon who obtained the first chest biopsy. I recall him looking VERY sad and simply saying, "this one worries me. It worries me a LOT." That was the most straight up answer that we got. Looking (8 years) it makes sense to me. Each doc was similar to us in age and stage in life. They were likely thinking what if it was them. Thus, each responded to the best his professionalism would allow, all while being scared and sad for us. They were all human.

I am just entering year 9, now. Year 2 was awful for me! I had somewhat gotten my kids through year one, and managed to not burn the house down (widda brain), BUT had not been able to work through my own grief yet. Society withdrew its support after completion of the magical first year. I was alone, no longer cocooned by shock, and REALLY feeling it. It stunk, big time. I will say that I learned to roll with the waves, and started chiseling out a new life for myself, in time. It sounds cliche to say it gets better, but oddly, it does, despite not getting my wish (him back).

I've tried to take the kids somewhere for vacation every Spring break and summer break... Since 2006, some successes: Disney World with friends (going with teens was SUPER fun! I highly recommend it!), the Outer Banks of NC, sailboat trip off west coast of FL (with my parents), Washington DC, Downtown Chicago, FL panhandle, and MANY close-by camping trips.

ADT tech said to me when I declined having them charge me again, in full, to reinstall my security system after a lightning strike that happened during our cancer battle: "Think of the children! Your dead husband would be so disgusted if he knew you put dollars before his children". Owner of the off site storage facility where D has stashed old things like baby furniture etc, following a break-in (coincidence? ONLY D and the storage place knew which unit#. Lock was cut off the day his obit ran), "You might not be the only woman in his life, ya know. Maybe you should ask HER!". He denied that he said that when the sheriff showed up. During this last visit by my mom, who was a god send during cancer and has been highly supportive of me after: "NO one is as busy as you pretend to be. I think you are keeping busy to avoid thinking about D". Yeah, working a very intensive R&D job while trying to raise high schoolers who do not drive is cake. I secretly am bored with nothing to do. Sigh.

Undifferentiated cancer (rare); 89 days from discovered to gone, Oct 30, 2006. He was 42, I was 41. Our kids were 6 and 9 YO. Complained of chest pain in May. Without even looking at or touching the patient, the doctor "diagnosed" GERD. D had a stage 1 melanoma removed in 2004. Why no follow up, or concern?After three weeks of pain, it stopped. We never even filled the GERD prescription. In July, pain resumed. This time, doc pressed on D's sternum (D yelled in pain). Ordered CT SCAN. Lemon sized mass at top of heart, inoperable and already mets to bone. We got one round of chemo in after numerous rounds of pathology to try to categorize the cells to direct treatment. The chemo made D too weak to withstand any more. He walked to the doc office that Tuesday. By Thursday he was quadriplegic, by Saturday, gone. He was still himself to the end. It was so quick that he had not lost any hair yet. That Tuesday, I told the kids the cancer was going to win, eventually. On Friday, I futher explained that I meant DEATH. We were unsure if we would get Christmas or even Thanksgiving with him. I never dreamed he would not see Halloween. Worst moment of my life, even worse than witnessing his final breath (was asleep on morphine due to breathing trouble), was telling my children that next day. I would clobber anyone who harmed my kids. I had to hurt them worse than they ever imagined in telling them of his death. F--- cancer!

Undifferentiated cancer (rare); 89 days from discovered to gone, Oct 30, 2006. He was 42, I was 41. Our kids were 6 and 9 YO. Complained of chest pain in May. Without even looking at or touching the patient, the doctor "diagnosed" GERD. D had a stage 1 melanoma removed in 2004. Why no follow up, or concern?After three weeks of pain, it stopped. We never even filled the GERD prescription. In July, pain resumed. This time, doc pressed on D's sternum (D yelled in pain). Ordered CT SCAN. Lemon sized mass at top of heart, inoperable and already mets to bone. We got one round of chemo in after numerous rounds of pathology to try to categorize the cells to direct treatment. The chemo made D too weak to withstand any more. He walked to the doc office that Tuesday. By Thursday he was quadriplegic, by Saturday, gone. He was still himself to the end. It was so quick that he had not lost any hair yet. That Tuesday, I told the kids the cancer was going to win, eventually. On Friday, I futher explained that I meant DEATH. We were unsure if we would get Christmas or even Thanksgiving with him. I never dreamed he would not see Halloween. Worst moment of my life, even worse than witnessing his final breath (was asleep on morphine due to breathing trouble), was telling my children that next day. I would clobber anyone who harmed my kids. I had to hurt them worse than they ever imagined in telling them of his death. F--- cancer!