A mixture

The past week has brought "a mixture" of thoughts, feelings, and activities....here's a sampling:

The Mundane:
It was a busy work week, since I worked an extra day.  But, being serendipitously off on Thursday allowed me to catch up on chores and clean my windows!  (Frankie and I are alike, Ruthie!  It requires a Special Leave day to do it!!!)  This effort carries with it, an optimistic view that most of the pollen has done its fertile duty and will remain somewhat less thick.  At any rate, the view of my pink roses with the bed of yellow and cobalt irises beneath is much clearer now.  Friday was the annual March of Dimes, Walk for Babies for which my office always gives a great show of support...
both in attendance and dollars earned.  So, after work we all met there and Bentie was sweet enough to drive down to join us for the event.  Way to go, Peds Care!  And a huge thank you to all the other caring folks who gave their time, money and effort in making the event successful and providing resources for children with birth defects and prematurity.

Funny Date night....times 2:  
1:  So...after the walk...Brent and I decided to check out a new Cuban restaurant near the office.  It had come highly recommended and since Brent and I both love Cuban food and can't readily hit the great spots on Calle' Ocho in Miami were very eager to try it.  In we went and were eagerly greeted by an exuberant fellow...apparently the chef...behind the counter.  While we both spend at least 60% of every work day speaking Spanish...Cuban Spanish is a whole other animal!  The man's excited exclamations were incomprehensible!  Rendering the Brent-ster, whose Spanish is far better than mine, deaf and mute!  So...I was on my own, but in that strange way in which off my beaten path of childhood illness and medical jargon that is my Spanish works for me....after a disquietening 30-40 second time delay...I comprehend...and can move forward in some lame Spanish manner.  And so we did!  Brent's time lag finally recovered as well....and he was soon jabbering away.  He and the chef/owner ended up chatting away about Cuba and how Brent knew so much about this and that and Brent allowed that he had been married to a Cuban.  This brought big eyes with very high eyebrows as the man gestured to me, incredulously!  It was quite a joke, when Brent explained..."Oh, No!  Different wife today!!"  By the end, we were all pals and Brent was speaking in French and English to some new arrivals who were from Cuba as well as the Dominican Republic.  He's a silly boy!  It was fun.
2.  Then, last night we had great plans to run some errands and manage to fit in a date night as well.  At a record pace we made a dry cleaning run, a drop off at the recycle and Good Will, nabbed a car wash, a drug store stop and just as we were ordering decadent fries and dogs at Good Dogs by the park...the phone rings and the doc covering the evening clinic is sick. So....end of date night and B is off to save lives and save the day.  Oh well...finished my errands and got the laundry caught up at home, watching The English Patient while doing my nails.  Brent arrived at the end....heartened as always, to find me watching a "cheery movie"!

SO....you don't like your life:
Odd thought, I suppose.  But, one that's been on my mind lately.  So many folks pick themselves up, deal with the cards they're dealt, move on.  Others...dwell on their bad luck, misery, bad choices, mean people, hard times, etc....and wallow in it.  I'm sure dealing with Stage IV melanoma, or any other terminal disease, changes a person.  I think I am probably less patient....not that patience was EVER my forte....too many things to do and too short a time in which to do them, has always been my guiding principle and I am certain I have not relaxed that mantra one bit. However, I think I am more patient with children and those who are putting forth an effort.  I find myself going out of my way to try to assist them.  I also think that I am more appreciative of things...small and large.  But, have I any patience for whining, complaining, wishing your life was better....or over...NO!  Not at all!  Don't like your life?  CHANGE IT!  Babies and children do it every day.  They topple over....they try again.  They try to speak, no one understands....they try again.  They want to jump, to run, to read...to pass this subject...they work hard...they try again.  That's really all it takes.  Ask anybody with a terminal illness.  One day, you're ok.  The next day, you're not.  They endure this pain, this surgery, that treatment.  They adapt to insults, to limitations, and they move on.  Making the most of every moment they can.  Working to deal with the latest injustice, the disease, or the cure, hands out.  Want to hear the real kicker???  Most of them do it with a great sense of humor and incredible strength.  You know how?  Because they know...LIFE IS A TERMINAL CONDITION!  Nobody is getting out alive.   So you damn well better make the most of it!  Don't like your life?  CHANGE IT!!!!  We ALL.....have the choice.  We ALL can make the most of what we have.  We ALL can make our lives better....or not.

Remembrances:
On this two year anniversary of lung amputation days after brain zappage....it's weird.  Ran very well today...and lately.  Seem to be able to think ok.  Heading down the last stretch towards new scans and more treatments in my tri-monthly punctuated life.  But, my thoughts have been about a small thankfulness...that once, about 25 years ago....I did something right.  When a small patient I was fortunate enough to love and care for, for about 13 years, needed a jugular line placed...I...at age 19 or 20, was smart enough to know...she shouldn't have to do this alone.  Having been through this myself...it is not the least bit fun.  Plastic sheeting over face.  No air to be had.  Numbing agent administered, but given no time to act.  Puncture made and line threaded immediately....a very strange and unpleasant sensation...with all the people around you...acting as though you aren't even there.  But...no!  With mask and hair covering applied.  The rest of sterile technique be damned.  I was under the plastic, sterile drape with her.  To kiss her cheek.  To hold her close.  A sweet baby, with no way to know what we were doing...much less why.  I made sure anesthesia had due time.  That she was safe and felt ok.  I did it right.  For that...I am grateful.

The final mixture:
Take 1/4 c olive oil.  Bring to a gentle heat. Add 4-5 cloves garlic, minced. Warm through for a minute or so...but don't allow to brown.  Take off heat and add:  1 tsp dried oregano, 1 tsp or so of fresh thyme, 1 tsp salt, pepper, the zest of one lemon, and 1/3 c of dry white wine.  Preheat oven to 400.  Coat both sides of 4, bone in, skin on, chicken breasts in mixture and pour remainder in pan.  Place a slice of lemon beneath each.  Roast until fully cooked and skin is crispy for 40 - 45 minutes, depending on size of breasts.  Delicious. 

ENJOY...this recipe...and the rest of your life.....what you have today....what you remember.....it is all any of us have.  Love - c.