Are You My Mother?

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Just heard from my Mom. To me, she is the funniest person on the planet.  From the time I was one and a half years old and could understand what she was saying she has always made me laugh.  This is classic Mom:

I went in yesterday for a flu shot. They were giving them in the lobby of Kaiser which is big. I registered, waited my turn and was ushered to table number 3.
The pretty nurse said “how old are you?”
“I’m 80,” my mom said.

“Are you allergic to eggs?” she was asked

“No,” my mother replied.

“Have you ever had dizziness or disorientation?” pretty girl asked.

“No,” mom said.  “I mean maybe four times in my life when I drank too much champagne!”

“Normal,” pretty girl said.

“Do you have allergic reactions?” 

“To certain people,” my Mom replied.  (To those of you who know me, if you think I’m a rebel, you should meet my mom!!)

“Have you had any incidences lately with pests that felt disturbing in your life or left you feeling anything less than healthy?” pretty girl asked.

“Yes!” Mom said a little too loudly.  “There were deer on my redwood forest property in the last several days and they ate the flowers I JUST planted! SOOOOO frustrating!!”

“We’re almost done here.  Do you feel safe at home?”  

“Uh, I live in the middle of a redwood forest that is very isolated.  Are you referring to the person I live with or anxiety in general.  Are you a therapist or a person who gives a flu shot?  This is getting a little wierd….”

“Okay, final answer before I give you your flu shot. Are you or do you plan on getting pregnant in the near future?”

“Yes, as soon as I can.

Amazing Sacrifices For Those We Love

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I didn’t write this, looks like it’s from People Magazine but wow!

After eight-year-old Gabriel Marshall underwent surgery to remove a tumor in his brain, the large scar left in its place “made him feel like a monster,” Gabriel’s dad, Josh, tells PEOPLE.

“He was very embarrassed about the scar – he wouldn’t even leave the house without something covering his head.”

“He said that he felt like everybody was staring at him and it made him feel like a monster, which broke my heart because to me he’s the most beautiful thing,” says Josh, 28.

Dad Gets Scar Tattoo to Match His Son's Brain Cancer Surgery Scar: 'I Wanted to Take Away Some of the Stares'| Cancer, Health, Bodywatch

Josh and Gabriel Marshall

Josh wanted to make his son feel better about the procedure, especially once Gabriel’s tumor – an anaplastic astrocytoma that had metastasized to his spine – was showing no signs of regrowth. So Josh decided to get a tattoo to match Gabriel’s scar.

“I asked him if it would be okay if I went and got his scar tattooed on my head if that would make him feel better, and he agreed that yes it would,” Josh says. “[I wanted] to take away some of the stares or attention from him.”

“He was very excited when I came home and showed him that I’d gotten it done. He said, ‘Wow that looks so realistic.’ ”

With his dad by his side, Gabriel learned to appreciate his scar.

“He’s now very proud of his scar because he knows that that it means that he was tougher than [the tumor] that tried to hurt him,” Josh says. “He calls it his battle scar.”

It’s been 15 months since Gabriel’s tumor was removed but doctors are monitoring him closely before officially saying he’s in remission.

“There is still some tumor in there, but his last sets of scans have shown that there is no new tumor growth,” Josh says. “The tumors are stable, so right now he’s just on watch with MRIs every 6 to 12 weeks.”

And on June 13, Josh, Gabriel and their matching scars made the news after Josh entered the annual Best Bald Dad contest, put on by St. Baldrick’s, a childhood cancer charity.

Scary

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“You have to be strong,” the woman in the waiting room at the oncology radiology facility said. “My husband has lymphoma everywhere in its final stages and we are cheerful and optimistic. It’s what you have to do to be with cancer.” Her husband will probably die. He is completely hunched over by what I suppose is osteoporosis in addition to the lymphoma his lovely wife told me has taken over his entire body.

That first day we went for Steve’s radiation treatment, I noticed a bell on the counter with a ribbon tied to it. On the ribbon it said I made it the whole way! I was so new to this idea of my youngish husband having to go through radiation that I didn’t quite get what that was. Then, when Steve was in treatment, someone walked out, picked up the bell and rang it. Everyone in the waiting room applauded and some jumped up to hug the person who had just completed the grueling months long, daily treatment of radiation. I suddenly got it and of course, was one of the jump-up huggers. But I was also in tears.

A couple weeks ago was Steve’s last radiation treatment for a mild recurrence of prostate cancer. MILD? Can you really even say that if its cancer? You really can’t. It’s cancer. In his case even though his numbers are low and very encouraging, you get only one shot at radiation. One. You can’t do it again because radiation causes cancer. What? We are trying to solve cancer with a cancer-causing agent? Yep. OMG.

On Steve’s last day I was in the waiting room, waiting. My husband is a very subtle and humble person. He is not a person who has a need to bring attention to himself so I wasn’t expecting him to ring a little funny bell. I just assumed he would want to get out of there and put it all behind him while we wait and wait for results of radiation.   He walked out, made eye contact with me, picked up that bell and rang it loudly with a huge smile on his face. I burst into quiet tears; I try not to be a spectacle either. People applauded, jumped up to hug him and it was a demonstration of how beautiful people can be when we realize we are all in the same damn boat. Cancer levels the playing field.

 

 

Pacemaker

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“I tried to get through your text without crying but it didn’t work,” George’s daughter Melissa texted me.

Pickle ball has changed my life. After back surgery for a herniated disk, my husband was worried I’d not be able to play tennis again and he found this new sport for me. Pickle ball is played in a gym on a badminton size court with a whiffle ball and a paddle and it’s a game of mixed doubles. Men and women of all shapes, sizes and ages all play together. It is a fast, aggressive game combining tennis with badminton and some people say Ping-Pong. I don’t see the Ping-Pong part of it. It’s an incredible work out but also an amazingly fun and addictive sport. I now play between 5 and 6 days a week for between 2 to 3 hours. It’s like my job, that and speaking about Gorillas and Chimps at the Dallas zoo 2 days a week. Lucky me. My recovery from the surgery was so excellent, I could easily play tennis, but I have no desire! My new love is Pickle ball.

I have met so many people and I have many very close friends in Texas as a result of Pickle ball. I am in awe at the support and camaraderie this PB community provides.

Not long ago, several of our Dallas police officers were shot and killed in a race relation issue. The next day at Pickle ball, one of the players called us all together and asked that we bow our heads in a minute of silence for the men who died. You could have heard a pin drop in that gym. It was powerful.

A couple months later right before we began play, a woman asked us to gather as she had a sad announcement. One of our dear Pickle ball friends Sarah, we were told, just lost her 48-year old daughter a day or two before. Again, we gathered, bowed our heads in silence and surely a lot of prayer for one of our own. Then the coach, Dave, went to get a bereavement card, which we all signed and he sent it. Sarah is not back yet but our community is there for her when she is.

Recently, one of our wonderful friends, George found out his heart rate was way too low. George is very athletic and otherwise a very healthy 72 year old, but his doctor was insistent on a pacemaker. He was going back and forth, stressing out about the decision because he felt so good and was playing Pickle ball several days a week aggressively. He was finally convinced it was what he needed to do.

George had the surgery to install the pacemaker on a Monday morning. Most everyone in our Pickle ball community knew. Shockingly, on Tuesday afternoon George sauntered in to the gym. He didn’t have his paddle with him and he didn’t intend on playing but he felt great and wanted to see us. Here is what I texted his daughter later, of whom I am very fond even though I don’t know her well.

Hi Melissa!  I wish you could have seen the scene when your father walked into the gym today.  The only word I can think of, and I don’t think I have ever used this word before, is “Fellowship”.  Several women jumped up to embrace him.  Our coach then went over to give him a hug and handshake and brought him a cushioned chair so he wouldn’t have to sit on the hard bleachers.  Then as games ended, men began walking up putting their hands on his shoulder or shaking his hand asking about his procedure and how he was doing.  He was the prince of the ball and everyone was quietly rejoicing in how well things went and how fabulous he looked.  Then a much older man than George took the padded seat and your father, of course, didn’t say a word and sat on the hard bleachers. He’s a special man and I know losing his wife was devastating as it was for you losing your mother.  But as a family, you have each other, and now know you can take comfort in that your father is a beloved member of a huge Fellowship of Pickle ball people.  Love, Andie

Here is Melissa’s response:

I tried to get through your text without crying but it didn’t work. What a wonderful thing to read. Thank you. Thank you again and the Fellowship of PB’s for caring about him so much. I’m so glad you’ve all gotten to know the awesome man I’m lucky to call “Dad”.

I’m kinda starting to like Texas….

Great Apes

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I don’t usually write fiction but I dabble in it from time to time.  Here’s something I wrote a while back.

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I’m in fifth grade but I really should only be in fourth. Mom started me early and then I skipped a semester in second grade because I was way ahead of everybody else in math and reading. It was hard because all of the sudden I was in a class with other kids I didn’t know and all my friends weren’t there.

I do love to read. Mom says I’m amazing because I learned at two. She says that as soon as I could see the words on a page I could understand them, as if I was “remembering” how to read instead of learning how. Now they say I read at a tenth grade level but I don’t think that’s true because all I like to read about is Great Apes. Chimps mostly but also Gorillas and Orangutans. I don’t think Mom likes it. She always tries to get me to read her books; books for grown-ups, grown-up’s stories, science books and doctor books. She went to work this morning before I woke up and she left me a book called, “The Old Man And The Sea.” Her note said to read it and we’d talk about it together when she got home tonight. I tried to read it because I want to talk with her but it’s boring and I don’t really understand it. She’s not home yet anyway and it’s almost my bedtime. Sometimes I wish she would read about Great Apes. I think she would love it if she tried it. I asked her if she could read one Chimpanzee book instead of her science books and then we could talk together about it but she says she doesn’t have time.

My Mom’s a surgeon and says she works hard so we can have nice things. We live in a house that is really too big for a Mom, a kid and a baby-sitter. There are so many dark, quiet rooms in our house that no one ever sleeps in. No one even goes in to some of them except the maid to clean. Sometimes I wonder what it would be like if I had twelve brothers and sisters sleeping and playing in all these bedrooms. I think our house would be better like that.

Mom says I’d be a great doctor because I’m so smart and she’s saving her money for my medical school. She bought me a video about the inside of bodies. We watched it and it was really gross. We talked about it for a little while but I don’t think it was a very good talk for my Mom. She seemed kind-of nervous and I don’t think I said anything she liked. I really wanted a video called “The Wild Kingdom.” I wish she bought that one because I think we would have had a better talk then. That’s OK because I can read my books instead of watching videos.

I don’t know my Dad. I asked her about him for the first time and she told me not to worry about him because he is not good enough for us anyway. I can’t help it; I think about him all the time. I hope he isn’t alone or lonely. I think he might be good enough for me. I wonder what he looks like and what he reads about. I wonder if he ever thinks about me. If I had a little girl who I did not live with, I would call her on the phone, at least. I would call my Dad but I think Mom would get mad if I asked her for the number. When I grow up, I am going to visit him.

Mother chimpanzees take good care of baby chimpanzees. They hold them and carry them everywhere they go. Mommy and baby chimps hug, kiss and snuggle and the Mom picks the bugs off the baby. When the baby gets a little older, she picks the bugs off the Mommy. It’s really cute and it’s for good grooming but also a way they show love. Mommy chimps spend the day teaching the baby things and they sleep very close together and keep each other warm. The Daddy chimp is always somewhere near-by and protects the Mommy and baby.

Sometimes, after school, when the baby-sitter is sleeping, I pretend I’m a baby chimp.

 

 

Prostate Lecture, fun huh?

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As I have gotten older I have become an amateur expert on illnesses I have had or people I love have had. I could tell you all about Atrial Septal Defect, a heart disorder that is congenital that is usually found days after a baby is born but mine wasn’t found until I was 36 years old. It is unfathomable to me that all those doctors over all those years missed it. The one who found it was pissed off at all the others. She was a feisty bitch and I didn’t like her, but bless her heart, (no pun intended) she found it. I had it fixed. Not easy. Open heart surgery.  A lot of pain. A lot of drugs. A lot of scars. I could have dropped dead and I didn’t. I’m grateful to the feisty bitch.

Now, someone I care a lot about is having a prostate cancer recurrence. This man asked his primary care physician if he could get him in for a physical at the end of 2013. Of course, every one in the world is trying to get in for their physical while their deductible is satisfied at the end of the year. This man’s physician said no, he couldn’t squeeze him in. My friend said, “Can we at least do blood work?” This request saved my friends life.

You guys, prostate cancer is the number one cancer for men and one in six men will be diagnosed with it sometime in their lifetime. There are no symptoms in the first 2 to 3 stages of the disease and by the 4rth stage you might be toast. Yes, I’m trying to scare you. Like any other cancer the trick is to catch it early. Stage one prostate cancer is relatively easy to treat and has a huge success rate. Stage two, a little trickier but still very treatable with a radical prostatectomy. (Surgical removal of the prostate or other options depending on your situation). Stage three means cancer cells have gone beyond the initial site, maybe into lymph nodes, etc. and that gets into really serious cancer treatment which has serious quality of life implications.  Stage 4 I don’t even want to talk about.

The reason I’m writing this, is that there is this new idea circulating around that maybe a yearly PSA test is not that important. There are organizations that say it leads to false positives and unnecessary biopsies.   If my friend did not get a PSA test in 2013 it could easily be over by now, if you know what I mean. A PSA test will tell you if your PSA is elevated and if you might have cancer! It’s an easy and cheap test! A little blood test!

Men, I warn you, do not assume when your doctor says your blood work was fine that she /he tested you for PSA. You must know what your PSA is, guys!  I have men friends who say their doctors do the blood work but don’t include PSA! WHAT? It’s the number one cancer of men! Why would that not be obviously in every blood work up! I just don’t get it.  But it’s true.  Take control of your health by being positive your doctor is checking PSA.   Have I made my point? One in six! Get your PSA test no matter what anyone says!

Whew, I’m exhausted…..

Mr. Perfect

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I wish I did, but I didn’t write this and I don’t know who did so I can’t give them the credit.  My sister sent it to me and I love it.

I recently picked a new primary care doctor.  After two visits and exhaustive lab tests, he said I was doing fairly well for my age.

A little concerned about that comment, I couldn’t resist asking him, “Do you think I’ll live to be 80?”  He asked, “Do you smoke tobacco, or drink beer, wine or hard liquor?”

“Oh no,” I replied.  “I don’t do drugs either.”

Then he asked, “Do you eat rib-eye steaks and barbecued ribs?”

“Not much….my former doctor said that all red meat is very unhealthy!”

“Do you spend a lot of time in the sun, like playing golf, boating, sailing, hiking or bicycling?”

“No, no I don’t,” I replied

“Well then,” he said, “do you gamble, drive motorcycles, drive fast cars or have lots of sex?”

“No,” I said.

He looked at me and said, “Then why do you even give a shit?”

 

 

 

God Talks To Dr. Christy

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I haven’t quite yet cracked my own psychological code on whether I’m trying to make Dr. Christy feel sorry for me (which would be out of character for me but who knows?) or whether I’m just trying to help her to understand me. At my last routine “Well Woman” exam that I think I blogged about already I said something to the effect of “the nightmare rollercoaster my life has been the last 6 years.”

At that statement, Dr. Christy’s eyes flashed. She didn’t like the sound of that. She looked down and then looked me in the eyes and said, “You need to be meditating…..God just told me you need to be meditating.” I got goose bumps. (Interestingly, some people call goose bumps, God bumps.)

Can you imagine a medical doctor having the personal guts and freedom and lack of fear of malpractice to assert something like that in a Western medical setting?   I was astounded and also deeply moved.

“Do you meditate?” I asked

“No,” she said, “I can’t.”

“Because you can’t slow down enough?” I asked.

“Yes,” she said. “But you need to.”

I have historically been unable to slow down enough to meditate but there was a time in my life when I could and did and the results were astounding. I knew Dr. Christy was right; well and God told her.

When my husband Steve heard all this that night when I went to bed early, by morning he had already downloaded an app onto my phone called HeadSpace. I began meditating to the support and guidance of a monk named Andy who has a gorgeous South African or Australian accent. I haven’t missed a day. I look so forward to it. It’s amazing. As a result, I have had physical and emotional shifts in a very short time.

Dr. Christy, you could do it with HeadSpace. It makes it so easy and lovely because it provides structure and support.  And, thanks for sharing with me what God told you.

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Sucking

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Angel came out to the waiting room and in her normal manner said loudly “Thompson!”

I jumped up and went to her as she said, “Hi, how are you?” I always think that’s a weird question because if you are at the doctor, you are probably not doing so great. I hope people don’t just say fine instead of my back is killing me or I have chest pain or my head feels like it’s about to explode or my blood pressure is off the charts. But, I bet a lot of people do say fine just prior to being escorted into the little examination room where Angel finds out the truth. I can’t remember what I said to her in response but I don’t think it was fine. 

I know you guys read my blog with bated breath and I know what you are thinking. What?!? She’s at the doctor again? Another surgery for this Accidental Texan? This is becoming too much!! Nope, no more surgery, I was there for my annual well woman exam but also because my blood pressure had been sky high.  I have “White Coat Syndrome” which means when I’m in a medical setting my blood pressure is super high. Since I don’t want to give Angel high blood pressure when she sees my blood pressure reading, I take it at home for several days before my appointment, record the great results on a little index card and give it to her to calm her nerves. (Just kidding, Angel is NOT a nervous type, she’s super competent, very grounded and has probably seen way worse than my reading today, I hope.)

However, this week I could NOT get a decent blood pressure reading in the days prior to my appointment. Every time I took a reading I was shocked at how high it was. I didn’t write anything on my little index card.

“So Andrea,” Dr. Christy asked after several other questions inquiring about my high blood pressure, “What about your salt intake?”

“Wait!” I said. “Dr. Christy, does a gigantic salt intake affect your blood pressure immediately, or does it happen over time?”

“No, a gigantic intake affects it immediately.”

“Oh my god,” I said, “You are not going to believe this.”

“What?!” she exclaimed eagerly, fingers ready on her keyboard.

“Steve just came back from some city famous for peanuts or maybe it was a stadium famous for them and he brought a gigantic bag of salted peanuts in the shell home. I don’t eat peanuts often because they are so fattening but I love salted peanuts in the shell and here is my dark, dirty secret. I suck them before I crack them open and eat them. And I mean I suck them until there is no salt left in them, then I crack the shell and eat the insides and I’ve been eating like 30 every day for the last week!”

Dr. Christy laughed out loud as she typed. “You are too funny,” she said. “And yes, that would raise your blood pressure!”

I don’t have many friends in Texas because I have lived here a short time and I’ve been preoccupied with medical issues. From the day I met her, I wanted to be friends with Dr. Christy. I didn’t feel I could be the one to initiate a social get together with her since doctors sometimes have rules for themselves about becoming friends with patients. I get that. If a friendship were to arise, the initiation would have to come from her and today it did. She said she wanted to get together in a social situation and do something fun. YAY!

As I was getting ready to leave Dr. Christy said, “Andrea, quit sucking on salted peanuts in the shell. Find something else to suck that doesn’t have so much sodium. I’m sure you can figure something out.”

Judgment Day

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Hi. I know. It’s been awhile. I’ve been busy with discs. A big herniated one in my case. I couldn’t even sit on my desk chair to write for the longest time and I was too preoccupied with pain to try.

Dr. Christy referred me to a spine guy who was so cute I had trouble staying focused on my own disc and not various discs, or things along those lines that might be on his body.

Dr. Christy said, “Isn’t he….”

“Yowza!” I interrupted. Of course she laughed and typed.

At 38 to 40 years old compared to my 56, I am technically old enough to be his mother, if I had started young, which I didn’t, but if I had, I could be. But he’s fun to look at nevertheless.

This is supposed to be a funny blog about living in Texas not a medical journal or a journal about the zoo. But medical stuff and the zoo have dominated my life lately. While I’ve have had 3 surgeries in under 3 years, the Dallas zoo has had two baby giraffes in under 7 months! Kapono is our 6 month old baby boy and Kipenzi is our one month old baby girl. Here she is out of the barn and in her habitat for the first time.

Kipenzi with her Mama

Kipenzi with her Mama

Pretty Baby Girl

Pretty Baby Girl

I remember, years ago, judging people whom I decided were having too much surgery. They should take better care of themselves, I would think. They need to figure out what they can do other than surgery. Too much surgery is terribly invasive and wears on the body!

Well, yeah, and then next thing I knew it was me and I honestly don’t feel like I had any choice about my surgeries. I would have ended up in far worse shape had I not had them than I am now. In fact, once I recover from this latest one, I might actually be relatively pain free which would be incredible! I thought my chronic pain was from botched hip surgery just under 3 years ago. Little did I know I had a herniated disk that Dr. Christy described as “huge” and that the cutey pie Dr. Canella said I might have had for a year and a half or more. Maybe my hip surgery wasn’t botched after all! Yay!

I don’t judge people anymore. I haven’t walked a mile in anyone’s moccasins except my own and my journey has made it very clear that this is not easy for me or anyone else. It didn’t take self-control, meditation or discipline to stop judging. It took the hard knocks of life.

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