Oh my goodness, my little Gagey is so busy. So, so busy. Which is good. I'd be concerned if he just sat there, staring off into space.
He doesn't play with toys, per se. He plays with household objects that he turns into toys. Anything in the house is his, in his view. Chopsticks? Those are Gage's. Scotch tape? Solely Gage's. Mom's decorative cardmaking buttons. (Grrrr.) Spoons. Butter knives. My armpit ice packs.
And you know, I'm glad that he is using objects in imaginative ways. I am. I just wish he'd not be up in my grill about it all day. I was extremely, extremely ill yesterday (stomach bug of some sort) and totally out of commission on the couch. Gage didn't have school, so of course, he got to work on his Very Important Gage Projects all day. My sweet friend Janet had brought some playdoh over for the kids to play with, and Gage wanted me to help him make snowmen out of it. We couldn't get the balls to stick together, so I grabbed the toothpick box and used them to skewer the snowmen. Then I lay back down.
So then, he wanted me to make birthday candles - me making the small flame and then skewering it to the top of a toothpick. I made like a hundred "candles," making a hundred bathroom breaks in between. Then it was paper airplanes. He took page after page out of our paper binder (supposed to be for homework) and asked me to make paper airplane after paper airplane. Eventually I had to put the paper binder on top of the fridge (that's where we put things so they're out of Gage's reach. We have a whole buttload of crap on top of our fridge). Then I lay back down.
I was just dying. I was feeling so, so poorly that I called Ben and begged him to come home so I could just sleep. He did, and I was so glad. So then Gage had someone else to help him with his Very Important Projects.
Gage has a pretty persistent cough this morning, so I kept him home from school. As I've been preparing for our Relief Society Inservice meeting that's coming up, he has kept me on my toes. He asked me to print a picture of a dinosaur. I did. He asked me to print fifty other things. I said no. Sorry; ink is EXPENSIVE. Then he wanted me to rip a rectangle surrounding the dinosaur. Then he got into my buttons again. Then he got a bowl and filled it with water, and then put the buttons in the water. Then he decided that he wanted the buttoney water in a baggie. He specifically wanted me to use a spoon to put the buttoney water in said baggie:
It goes on and on. Ay, carumba. He's killin' me, Smalls!
1. Ben's skin scan went well. They removed two small moles that could have, in time, become cancerous. And a skin scan? It's like four people, searching every inch of Ben's body for moles. Using these light/magnifying glass thingeys. While he stands there, in a loincloth. *Snicker* Sorry, it's just a funny visual for me. Poor guy. But he's good! He has to go in every three months to get scanned. In a loincloth. Hahaha!
2. Today is my last radiation! I have to have the armpit radiated one last time. It looks way worse then it did when it had a wound the shape of Louisiana in it. I'm not going to even take a picture of what it looks like now. It is seriously so gross. And let's say that it's no longer Louisiana. It's more like the Gulf of Mexico. Yesterday, the doc was like, "Maybe we should wait a week for your armpit to recover..." but I was like, "No. We're finishing this. I can do it. Let's just get the damn thing done." The radiation to just the scar area hasn't had a bad effect. Just red, like a sunburn. I don't have any feeling there, so I'm doing good there. My armpit - not so good. :(
3. I was supposed to have my third of 17 Herceptin treatments this morning, but my little Sickie caused me to postpone it.
4. My bladder still gives me a lot of problems. My urologist is trying a different medication to help with the constant urgency feelings. I don't think it's really working. I get frustrated. And I use a lot of that AZO stuff that helps with the urgency and discomfort associated with UTI's. It makes you pee orange. I LOVE that stuff.
5. I find myself feeling really, really jealous of healthy people. People who feel good enough to run, or play with their kids. Or dance. Sometimes I wonder if I'll ever feel good again. The limitations of my body really bum me out.
6. I go in next week to get my right boob filled back up again. And then, in three months, the plastic surgeon will examine my skin and make sure that I've healed sufficiently enough to get my "real" boobs put in.
But let's revisit #2. Can you believe that today is my last radiation??? This is a cause of celebration, friends! A huge milestone behind me.
Guess who is being over-ambitious and wanting to run a half-marathon with my friend this summer? Me, that's 'oo. I mean, if I feel good enough to train for it and everything. She will attest to the fact that my health has made me pretty flaky in the running department of my life. But wouldn't that be cool if I could do that?? It would be close to the one-year mark of my diagnosis, and it would feel so EMPOWERING to do that. Kind of like, "That's right, Cancer. I kicked your arse. Here I am, a year later, alive. And running. Even though it's 3.7 mph running. Most people can walk that fast. But I digress. I kicked your ARSE!!!"
Okay, I guess I get to go pop some popcorn for Gage. Which he will probably use as a toy in some way.