Post Op CheckIn

This bruise is a doozy!  My breasts look similar but those can only be seen on my pay-per-view site.

Yesterday I had the fat-grafiting procedure where Dr. K harvested fat from my abdomen and injected it into my breasts to help smooth out some lumps, bumps and ripples around the implants.  Wild, huh? As Tom and I drove to the surgery center, I started to worry that they'd take too much fat from my belly.  Pulp Fiction came to mind and the scene about the potbelly, which I never really got at the time, but as I've gotten older and rounded out a bit it takes on new meaning.  I like my little pot and let Dr. K know that. She assured me that she'd only take a little and that I wouldn't be left with 6-pack abs.  Phew! 

This is my 4th surgery in less that 10-months and I think I'm getting the hang of it, sadly enough.  Getting the fat removed is a bit of brutal procedure.  In my case, she tunneled under the skin through an small incision in my belly button, broke up the fat, harvested it by pulling it out with a needle and then tunneled under the skin of my breasts to deposit the fat.  

Crazy noodles.  

Today it's not anymore painful that having an big, ouchy bruise.   I'll probably be wearing sweatpants for the next week to keep the pressure off the bruise.  I only took 2 Percocets yesterday just because I could and wanted a little help sleeping.  No pain meds today.

Thanks for all of the well wishes and prayers.  It all helps!  

A Car Conversation

Lark to Tom (with a bit of an accusatory tone): You know Mom's had a sandwich in her car for a few weeks now.  It's frozen and thawed a bunch of times.

Me: I keep it there in case of emergencies, such as if we end up at the side of the road.  We can eat the sandwich first rather than resort immediately to cannibalism.

Lark: Argh!  Gross, Mom!

Me: Precisely.  That's why the sandwich is there - to avoid grossness.

Tom: [Silence.  Secretly removes said sandwich from the car when we get home.]

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Obstacles + More Surgery + Dad's Accident

Ah, winter.  You beautiful cold bitch you.

Yesterday I went sledding with Alice and our 5 year old neighbor and lover of life, Anat.  When we went down the hill, we had to be careful to avoid hitting one another (for the love of God, get out of the way, kids!) and the dog who would bark and chase us down the hill (a lovely trick I taught her when I was single and would go sledding with her - not such a great one now that there are kids involved.).  When Anat and I successfully made it to the bottom of the hill, avoiding both the dog and taking out Alice, I shouted, "Hooray!  We made it through all the obstacles."  Anat, not one of those little people who pretend they know things when they don't, asked, "What's an obstacle?"  to which I responded, "it's something that gets in the way."  We spent the rest of our sledding time joyfully avoiding the obstacles and using the word correctly.    

All that obstacle defining and avoiding got me thinking about the obstacles we as humans create for ourselves, both physical and emotional.  Really, the majority of it is bullshit we make up in our heads.  Okay, my obstacles are bullshit that I create and really aren't meant to get in the way.  They're there to teach.   

For example, this whole cancer thing that came up this year.  Obstacle?  Not really.  It was a wake up call to truly live life.  While I was meditating on this awhile back, I heard a voice say, "You've been given a life sentence.  What are you going to do with it?"  

It was a thrilling and terrifying message to receive all at one time.  I mean, who doesn't want to live, right?  But holy shit, that's a lot of pressure.  So, I've remained a little bit paralyzed by it and am still processing.  It's become an obstacle rather than a doorway to something new.  I'd love help with working through this and welcome any thoughts (or prayers) any of you beautiful people may have. 

More Surgery on Thursday

Fear not, there are no obstacles here.  Just trying to get the aesthetics right on my new implants.  As I've mentioned in past post, I have very little breast tissue.  It's about as thin as the skin on my forehead which makes the implant ripple a bit in places.  For this day surgery, I will have fat grafted from my belly to be placed under my breast tissue to help improve the appearance.  All in all, they're looking pretty darn good, even in a swim suit.  More importantly, I can comfortably lift things and have no residual pain, as some women experience when they go through this type of procedure.   

I'll let you know how everything goes.  

Dad's Accident

I got the call we all dread last night, the one where it's an EMT telling you that someone you love has been in accident.  In this case, it was my dad.  His car slid off the road and hit a tree head on.  The car was totaled, but my dad was not. While he's incredibly bruised and sore, he's doing very well.  Thanks to my little sister, Kristy, for heading over the hospital to be with him and drive him home last night.  

Looks like someone else got a life sentence.  I'm grateful for that:-).  

Love,

Lisa

WTF

Exclusive content found no where else in the entire universe. 

Me to Tom: Hey, will you take a picture of me in my AWESOME fox tights?  I have to post this for the world to behold.

[Lark enters the room]

Me: Lark, will you take a picture with me in my fox tights?  [Underlying motive: to not be alone in my fox photo - make it a little more casual.]

Lark:  No thank you. I'll pass. What are you taking the picture for?

Tom: She's going to post it to Facebook for self-validation based on the number of likes she gets. 

Me: [losing a bit of my foxy mojo]. Come on - let's just take the picture!  

[I assume a camera-ready pose. Tom snaps the picture.  We look at the result.] 

Tom: Whoa, your head and neck look like a Pez dispenser!  Bad angle! 

Me: Argh!  Let's do another one. 

The result:

Yup, check out those tights.  On the curve of woodland-critter-apparel adoption, I'm an off-the-charts early adopter. Case in point, my all-time favorite squirrel sweater dates back to, date I say, 2001. Yup, I was intarsia-ing it way before my time. 

Oh, wait. Could it be true? It couldn't be. Did I hold onto that sweater long enough for it to come back in style?  Am I just riding the wave of the latest fashion trend, not actually creating it?  Darn it! 

WTF.  What the Fox. 

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Happy Thanksgiving, Friends!  Gobble, gobble!  Love, Lisa

The Interview & Lost in My Mind

The Interview

I had an interview the other day with a recruiter for a full-time position that peaked my interest.  I haven't had a formal interview in years and I was looking forward to learning more about the company and position, which I certainly did.  Here are some of the highlights: 

1. In summarizing where I thought I would be in 5-years, he said, "Is it safe to say that you don't really know?"   I had to stifle a laugh.  I replied, "Well, I think about it a little differently.  While I don't know exactly where my career will take me, I know I'll be doing something I enjoy."  
2. He also mentioned that they were looking for a woman between the ages of 30-35 (because the company is "man heavy") , but that I was a good candidate so he didn't think my age would be a problem.  He said this with a straight face.    
3. Finally, he said that he had a friend that lived in my neighborhood and that, "Is it safe to say that you live well below your means?"  Water flying out of my mouth all over the place (not really, but it would if I could).  My response: Just staring at him and letting the weight of his words really sink in.  Still staring.

Let me translate the above for you:

The company is looking for a young, smart female that they can underpay.    

All in all, it makes for a good story and a great example of what NOT to say during an interview (or in life in general).  I think the guy had good intentions, but wow, his execution was ever-so-flawed.

Lost in My Mind

I love how music can sum up a mood so well.  I recently asked for some music suggestions on Facebook and got a bunch of great ones.  "Lost in My Mind" by The Head and The Heart (thanks for the suggestion, Caroline) is the song of the day.  Yup, I'm lost in my mind yet again, thinking about what's next in life.  I've been a little weepy lately and have been feeling that super, heavy feeling of sadness in my chest.  Not all the time; just when I stop long enough to let my emotions catch up with me.  Anyhow, I found out that I'm not the only one who's feeling unsettled and teary, so maybe it's just this time of year as we transition from lightness into the dark, quiet womb of winter.  It is such a good time for reflection.    

  

 

Here I am in San Francisco Again

This time it's for work, not a Phish concert. But let's not talk work, let's talk breasts.  

I had my exchange surgery in August, where they removed the expanders and placed my "permanent" implants.  It was a day surgery, so Tom and I were home by 11:30am.  It was nothing like the mastectomy.  I was back to my normal physical self within 5 days.  Emotionally it took me a little longer to regain equilibrium.  I, like many women, placed a lot of importance on doing exchange surgery and sort of held it up as the end of reconstruction.  It's disappointing to learn that for most women, including myself, there are more surgeries needed to make everything look right.  

I ended up with Gummi Bear implants which are anatomically tear-drop shaped and are semi-solid, so if you cut into one, it won't leak everywhere.  When you get a mastectomy, they remove all of the tissue so you're left with skin that's as thin as your forehead.  So, unlike recreational implants that have some tissue to buffer them, mine do not, which leads to some rippling under the skin.  My next surgery will involve fat grafting to fill in those ripples.

All in all, it really hasn't impacted my overall happiness.  I'm grateful I'm cancer-free.  Let's keep it that way!  I also don't have any pain associated with my implants as many women do.  I'm adjusting to the Tamoxifen (hot flashes aren't that bad). 

And I look normal in clothes.

And I can hug people and I don't have those hard tennis balls on my chest anymore.

And Alice thinks one of my scars looks like a smiley face.  She thinks the other one, which is a straight line, looks "serious." 

Here's to life and sending prayers to the people who really need them in the Philippines and other disaster-stricken areas.  May they find shelter, food and a place to rest their heads.  

Love,

Lisa

Hello from somewhere between Minneapolis, San Francisco and madness

Tom and I are on our way to San Francisco for our first weekend alone since we had Alice 3-1/2 years ago. It's about time, right?  I can't wait to sleep in my own queen bed!   Just kidding - sort of:).  When I'm sleepting at home, I usually end up contorted in some pretty crazy positions trying to accommodate the dog, cat and Alice on my side of the bed. The absurdity of it always makes me smile. Here's how the night usually goes: I go to bed before Tom at around 10:30-ish. He slides onto his side of the bed soon after. The cat usually curls up on my back or stomach while the dog curls up on the rug beside the bed. Sometime between midnight and 1am, the dog gives a soft bark at the foot of the bed which translates to, "Move the quilt so I can lay at the end of the bed."  I'm not sure why she decided she didn't want to sleep on the quilt, but somewhere along the line I figured out she wanted to be on the sheets. So, now I'm curled on my side with my feet of the dog and a purring cat on my side. Then along comes Alice sometime between 4am and 7am, "Can I sleep with you Mommy?"  Why not?  Everyone else in the house is. So, I pull her onto the bed, spoon her and kiss her soft hair. The cat is purring on my back and my feet are snuggled into Dubbie's fur. It's a 360-degree hug! 

So where's Tom in all of this? He's smartly established that his side of the bed is off-limits to kids and creatures. And crazily enough, everyone honors that. Well, except for the cat, but it's written in the Cat Code of Conduct that it needs to lay where ever it likes, especially when someone is allergic to it. 

The Passing of a Mom in our Carondelet Community

We said goodbye to Faye Ryden this week after a courageous battle with ovarian cancer. She's the mom of one of Lark's classmates and left behind three daughters and a husband. Faye was one of the first people I met when I came to the Carondelet community as "Lark's dad's girlfriend".  I wanted to get to know some of the moms, so I signed up to be a Brownie Troop leader for the first grade troop. Faye and I were one of 5 moms who led the troop for several years. She was an easy-breezy person who was a joy to be with.

Tom and I went to the funeral this past weekend (Lark was at a friend's cabin) and it was lovely and intense all at the same time. My heart broke a few times over watching John, Faye's husband, and girls. What a surreal experience for them. And the funeral is just the beginning of  it. They had a reception at the Bakken afterward. It was great to see many of Lark's classmates there along with their families to support and mourn with the Ryden's.

John and girls,  we have you in our hearts and prayers. 

Nicole Ryden, Lark's classmate, releasing butterflies with the help of friends
at her mom's memorial service. 

The Cape

We did our annual pilgrimage to Cape Cod in the beginning of July to spend a week with the Pinney Cogan families. We started the trip with a couple days in Boston that included lots of sweating (it was humid and in the mid-90's), a trip to the public garden the see Mrs. Mallard and take a ride on the swan boats and dinner in the North End. We read the book "Make Way For Duckings" for a few weeks leading up to the trip.  (If you don't know the book, click here for more info.)  Alice was on high alert looking for her when we got to the park. When she figured out Mrs. Mallard and her ducklings were statues, she was a little disappointed that she "wasn't real."  But when she figured out that she was swimming in the duck pond with her babies, she was much happier and seemed to be okay with the fact that Mrs. Mallard only speaks Duck, not English.

This collage  of us meeting Mrs. Mallard and her ducklings and Alice watching Phish
 live on Tom's phone is courtesy of Lark.  

After our fun in Boston, we headed to Cape Cod to spend a week with the Pinney Cogan's. As always, it was one of the highlights of our year. We don't do much except sit on the beach in most types of weather, with the exception being pouring rain, and talk about what we're going to eat next. It's pretty darn nice. We're lucky that Frank and Alice, Tom's parents, are still going strong. We're also lucky that all of Cogan kids, Albert (age 16), Grace (age 19) and Shannon (age 22) still want to hang out with us for a week. I guess the same holds true for Anne and John, Tom's sister and brother in-law, and Joyce, Tom's sister. I suppose they could opt out, too. I'm sure they don't dare because the trip gives them an opportunity to load up on funny things I unwittingly say and do that come back to haunt me all year. Mostly it's just John. He's a funny guy. Just ask him...he'll tell you (he's actually hilarious and I will stop writing so the "mother f'er champagne" incident doesn't come back to bite me in the tush.)

In addition to eating, drinking and hanging out, this year we worked on doing some cool braids. Check 'em out. I've since cut my hair, so no more braids for me. 

Lark in the upper left, Shannon in the upper right and me on the bottom. 

The "Can't Take it with You" Tour

Tom and I invoke this saying whenever we make, or are thinking of making, a big expenditure. We've been taking a look at our life and what we want the next 10 or so years to look like. One thing I know I want to do is live somewhere other than Minnesota for awhile. It can be domestic or abroad. We've been noodling on how to make that work. In an ideal world, we'd like to have a lot of time to explore (probably rules out a full-time job) and have access to good schools for Lark and Alice. I also want to be able to take Dublin with us.  We'd like to rent out our house while we're gone.

One idea that came to me when we were at one of the Phish concerts this weekend (Oh, we're now on the plane back to MN and we went to see Phish in San Fran) was the idea of being long term house/pet sitters. That takes care of our living costs and gives us literally a home base to explore a city. We're thinking Northern California or the Pacific Northwest. We'd love to do Europe, but I've read it's difficult to get a dog in the country - maybe I'm wrong?  I could keep doing some consulting stuff on the side and Tom could just run his newly acquired business, which I think I'll have him ghost write about another time.  

Back to the Can't Take it with You Tour - let us know if you have thoughts, ideas or know someone who needs their house watched. We'd also be a live in family nanny to an only child. We'd need our own living quarters and would need to have a family who wants their child to be folded into ours. It's probably someone who never really wanted kids but had one because it seemed like the thing to do.  We'd be happy to take that little one under our wings and spend ample time swimming in the indoor pool or at the private beach. And yes, we cook organic meals, read, love outdoor adventures and limit screen time. We're your perfect Fam-nanny! 

Let me know if you've got any leads for us or other ideas. The crazier the better. 

Almost Forgot...Heath Update

Can you believe it's been 6-months since I had the mastectomy?  It seems much longer. I'm doing and feeling great.  The second and last stage of reconstruction is scheduled for August 19th. I originally had it scheduled mid-July and then thought better of possibly ruining part of summer. This surgery entails removing the tissue expanders that are currently there (they look and feel like a couple of apples on my chest) and replacing the with (hopefully) softer and more pleasing looking implants. Recovery is supposed to be pretty easy compared to my primal surgery. No drains this time and no hospital stay. Woo hoo!  And yet I'm sort of dreading another surgery and the downtime associated with it. 

Other than that, I'm just taking my Tamoxifen which gives me lovely hot flashes along with so either side effects I don't need to go into here. It's not quite as bad as when I started it - maybe I'm getting used to it?Anyhow, the alternative is much worse than some pesky little side effects. 

Some Pictures

Lark's soon-to-be-new glasses.  She's excited about them.

Look who we ran into at the San Francisco Ferry Building farmer's market.  Mike Gordon, bass guitarist for Phish!  You can see excitement written all over his face.  

A rare photo of us at the San Francisco Ferry Building.  

I made it through two Phish concerts this weekend.  My first show was last year at Alpine Valley, WI.  I have to say that I enjoy the outdoor venues a wee bit more.  It was so darn smokey that I felt like I was developing a case of rapid onset emphysema.  And yes, those puffs of smoke in the picture probably are exactly what you're thinking they are.   

Bathtub Alice.

My garden in the beginning of summer (top) and now (bottom).

More garden pictures.