The update you've all been waiting for...

Yes, it's been awhile since I've posted. I've been busy and I sort of ran out of things to talk about, I guess. This is the point during a traumatic event where a person wants to stop obsessing so much. And you know what's cool? I hardly think about my boobs at all these days! Well, I have to at least once a day, because I started the drug tamoxifen on Monday. Tamoxifen blocks the effects of estrogen in the breast, but increases its effects in the uterus. Because most breast cancers are responsive to estrogen, it makes sense to block it in that organ. To be honest, I am pretty ambivalent about taking the medication. I don't really want to. I waited a whole two weeks to fill the prescription. But, I suppose I would feel better knowing that I am doing everything I can to prevent me from getting breast cancer. FYI, the treatment is five years. That's a long time! But any major side effects, and I'm going off of it. So there.

Six days post-op and my elbow feels ok. I was a good little patient and kept the pressure bandage on for 3 days like I was told (I wasn't supposed to shower but I did anyway - with a garbage bag over my arm). But I found out at my recheck today that I shouldn't have actually thrown the pressure wrap away like I did. The doctor was kind enough to get me a new one, which he wants me to have on for another couple of weeks. He also wasn't super excited about the fact that I've been rollerblading (but it's the only form of exercise I can do without hurting my arm!). I got the ok to try to run now, so tomorrow I'll do a "short" run of about 4 miles. In the past running has aggravated the elbow, so we'll see how it goes. My elbow is still pretty sore (but a good "surgical" sore, not a bad "tendinitis" sore) and quite bruised. Oh, and I start hand therapy in a couple of weeks. I am back at work, and will start doing surgeries again in another week. Life is slowly coming back to normal.

OK, boobs and elbow. I think that pretty much covers it. My two year long medical saga (that started with me tearing my elbow tendon in the summer of 2009) is almost over. Now what will I write about? I must really be getting old if I have only my health to talk about! Oh, I'm sure I'll think of something; I always have something on my mind. But for now, we'll leave it at this: I am doing pretty ok. And that makes me happy.

Elbow surgery

Yes, I finally had my elbow surgery yesterday. It was a long time coming. I partially tore my extensor carpi radialis brevis tendon while lifting weights almost two years ago. The pain got worse over time and 4 steroid injections, hand therapy, wearing a huge splint for a week, chiropractic massage, and time did not help much. I saw two surgeons, both of whom told me it will likely get better on its own, but that it could take years. They were both of the opinion that it was probably time for surgery. Hence, the elbow MRI -> mammogram -> delayed anything elbow related for a few months.

It has been challenging to schedule the surgery because I had to take time off of work, which meant arranging coverage. But yesterday finally came. The surgery was scheduled for 1:30, and I was told I couldn't eat or drink after 3:30 am. I thought about it, but I didn't get up at 3 for breakfast. So yeah, I was hungry yesterday morning. Lisa came with me to the surgery. I'm kind of used to being a surgical patient by this time, but I still wanted her there for the pre-op stuff. I HATE IV catheters, especially in the back of the hand, and guess where they put it? Blah! It was a couple of hours before the surgery actually began and I think Lisa wanted to go get some lunch. She kept looking at her watch while we were waiting for things to happen. Far cry from when I had cancer surgery. No meals from friends, no flowers, no sympathetic spouse (hey, at least she got to have breakfast!).

Also, I tend to make jokes when I'm nervous, which some medical professionals don't always get. The anesthesiologist was sort of like that. The prep nurse, however, thought I was a riot.

Also unlike my breast lumpectomy, I hadn't done much research at all on this surgery. In fact, I swear we had talked about doing an open approach but it was listed as arthroscopic surgery, so the surgeon and I went back and forth a little on that. Just do what is best, I told him. Arthroscopic it was. Basically, he just removed the damaged part of the tendon. This time I was given Versed (midazolam - an anti-anxiety) IV, which stung like hell. Then I was wheeled into the OR and, I was told, given propofol and intubated. I don't remember that at all. The next thing you know, I'm in recovery and it's 2 hours later and my elbow hurts like a motherf-----er. They gave me 3 injections of fentany and oral oxycodone, but my pain scale was still a 6 out of 10 (probably a 7 or 8 - I was being nice). I even told the nurse that I am usually pretty pain-tolerant and she replied, That's what they all say, until they have surgery.

Jerk.

Anyway, the pain subsided and we drove home to a bunch of screaming kids. I tried to rest while Lisa went to get my prescriptions filled, but the kids were so LOUD! Made me very crabby. After dinner, Lisa took the boys to a soccer game, our friend watched the girls, and I had a babysitter of my own for a few hours - a high school classmate who came to visit. That was nice, relaxing, peaceful. Until the kids came home.

I took narcotic pain meds last night but I feel pretty good today. I'll stick with the anti-inflammatory alone for now. My elbow is wrapped and I can't take a shower for 3! days. We'll have to figure out a way around that one. Lisa already told me she won't give me sponge baths.

So there you have it. My medical sagas are finally coming to a close. I am excited about the possibility of not having daily pain in my elbow. I am excited about not going to the doctor all of the time (although I guess I have some physical therapy in the near future).

I also turned 41 last weekend, so I need to either change the title of this blog, or put it to rest. I'm still on the fence on that one.

As a final aside, we had a couple of realtors do a market valuation on our current house, and we couldn't get nearly enough to cover the down payment on the farm. So unless something crazy happens, we're not moving. In fact, I am taking this opportunity to put money into fixing/upgrading our house, in order to make me happier living in it. Which means, of course, that we'll probably move soon.

14 Miles and My Knee Feels Fine

Today's run almost didn't happen. We had a storm come through at 4:30-5 am and the weather wasn't looking so great even at 5:30. So I texted my running buddy Margaret but she said we should go anyway. Shoot. So I rolled out of bed and ran a mile down the bike path to meet up with her. I was wearing black. She was all chipper in bright pink and green. Our attitudes matched our colors and I couldn't go at more than a 10 min/mile pace. It's funny how your speed can really vary from day to day. We went into the Elm Creek Park Reserve and did an 8 mile total loop. Add that to my initial mile and I'd done 9 miles and guess what? My knee showed no signs of hurting! I actually made it to 12 miles and my knee felt great. However, Carter had an orthodontist appointment at 8:40 so I had to take a break. Of course had I been ready at 5:30 like I had originally planned, I would have had the entire thing done by then. I didn't have time to wash up or change before the appointment so I am sure I didn't look or smell all that good. That's ok. I'd just run 12 miles. They'd understand.

I learned that it is not a good idea to take an hour break during your long run. My legs and feet thought I was done and they were very angry when I got back on the bike path. My feet hurt, my calves hurt, but guess what? My knee felt fine! I didn't wear a watch for those last two miles, but I am pretty sure I ran at about 12 mins/mile. That's ok. I ran 14 miles today. Margaret and I did experiment a little with walking a bit every few miles because I read an article about how that can decrease injuries. Or maybe it was the tiger eye stone that had my family's good wishes (from the healing ritual before my breast surgery) that I slipped in my pocket today. Or maybe it's just dumb luck that my knee happened to do well this time.

I don't know if I'll complete the marathon this fall but if I do, you know what I'm gonna do? I'm going to buy one of those 26.2 window stickers and put it on my car window, that's what. Or maybe I'll tattoo it somewhere on my body. Because running 26 miles is an accomplishment. I didn't really used to think so because so many people run marathons these days. But many many more DON'T run a marathon. And why not? Maybe it's illness or injury, which I totally understand. Or maybe you don't like to run and a marathon is the last thing you'd even consider trying. I get that too. But what if it's fear of failing? I've done that too when I had to drop out of training a few years ago. It was really hard to stand on the sidewalk cheering on Lisa as she ran the marathon in 2007. However, it was also 90+ degrees that day and she was pretty miserable the entire time, which did temper my bitterness a little. What if it's lack off time? Well, I sort of get that, but not really. I am a pretty busy person but I still find time to exercise about an hour a day. It can be done if you make it a priority and, likely, turn off the TV. What if you don't want to push your body that much? I understand that too. It's not easy to make your feet move when your mind is saying STOP! But if you push through it? You'll feel so much better about yourself afterwards. Look at me now! I can't walk without a significant limp today because my feet are so sore, but my mind feels awesome. And I can eat whatever I want.

So remember a few weeks ago when I asked you to push yourself? Did you? How was it?

Damn Dog Spays

A spay, or ovariohysterectomy, is the surgical removal of the ovaries and uterus. We commonly have the procedure performed on our pets in order to prevent certain medical problems, curtail some unwanted behaviors, and of course for population control. As a small animal veterinarian I have performed thousands of spays in my 15 year career. And I have to tell you that dog spays suck.

*** Warning - graphic surgical descriptions ahead ***

If you have, or know someone who has had, a hysterectomy (removal of the uterus only) performed as a person, you may know that the hospital bill was probably between $10,000 - $20,000. Most veterinarians charge between $100 - $500 for a spay, which is more difficult than a hysterectomy because it is much harder to remove the ovaries as well as the uterus. I don't know how it is that we vets feel we can only charge a few hundred bucks for this procedure. It is not an easy surgery, and for me it doesn't seem to get any easier with time.

Cat spays are different - they are pretty straighforward since cats have round abdomens and their reproductive organs can only get so big. Dogs come in many shapes and sizes, from a 2 pound chihuahua with which you panic over anesthesia to a 150 pound Great Dane, where it can take 20 minutes to even find everything in the huge abdomen. Also, if the dog has been in heat before, or had a litter, the reproductive organs tend to be large and fragile. If it is a young dog, the uterus may be hard to find because it is so little. Or, there's the spay combine with a C-section, where you're dealing with keeping newborn puppies alive, a big open uterus with a ton of fluid, and large blood vessels. Or there's the pyometra spay, where the uterus is huge and filled with pus. One wrong move and you can lacerate the uterus and get bacteria into the abdomen. Plus, the dog is fairly sick to begin with, so anesthesia is super fun. Or there's the big fat dog spay, where all of the vessels are hard to see because they're surrounded by fat, which also make your surgical gloves slippery so it's harder to grasp the tissue.

I love surgery, and as I've said, I've done a ton of spays. But no other procedure has resulted in more lost sleep for me than a dog spay. The vessels and ligaments that you need to tie off in order to get the ovaries out are tucked way up near the kidneys along the spine. You often need to break down the ligaments in order to expose and access the vessels. Then you need to get a clamp on the area, and then tie it off with 2-3 ligatures. The whole process can be maddening. The vessels can break, the clamp or ligatures can slip off, or you can inadvertantly tie off the ureter (the tube that brings the urine from the kidney to the bladder).... Ugh.

We do some rescue work for Greyhound Pets of America, so we spay a couple of greyhounds a month. This is probably the worst breed to spay because they are deep chested, making it difficult to access the ovaries, they are often shot up with testosterone on the race track, so their uterus is super small, and they have no abdominal fat. It is also hard to find the midline in the muscle wall in these guys, so I have spent 15 minutes on occasion trying just to get INTO the abdomen. Plus, anesthesia is tricky in this breed and they always wake up flailing no matter what drugs we give.

The main problem with a dog spay is that it is a technically difficult surgery but the expectation is high. The dog will do great or you're the worst vet ever. I can think of many non-elective surgeries that are much easier than a dog spay, but we somehow let our clients think that it is a routine easy surgery. On the other hand, removing a foreign object from the intestines of a dog is a far easier surgery, but we set the owner up for all these possible complications so we're heroes if the dog does well. Fortunately, I have had very few spay complications, but the risk is always there and I will continue to lose sleep every once in awhile. I know of many vets who have stopped doing surgery completely, and I believe that it is the fear of the dog spay that did them in.

So, the next time you see your vet, thank him or her for a job well done on your dog's spay. And also for only charging a few hundred dollars, which is probably the best bargain you'll get in your lifetime. For anything.

Appointment 14 - Oncology Consult

My first oncology appointment was back down at Piper at 8:45. Unsure about traffic, I left at 8 am and got there 10 minutes early, which is sort of odd for me. Again, the helpful volunteers offered up coffee and tea in China cups. The novelty should have worn off by now, but it still makes me smile. The nurse took my vitals by 9:10, but the doctor didn't come in until about 9:30. I know, I am hyper-aware of my wait times, but we all have our thing, right?

The doc was very friendly and actually sat down and asked my history. Not my medical history, the history of my life. That was a nice touch. So then I of course asked for his history and found out he initially had try to make a go of it in acting and comedy, but decided to go to med school when a) he realized he wasn't going to make a living in his current field, and b) his dad developed cancer. He was funny, but he tried too hard. So of course I mentioned that it was a good thing he left comedy, so he asked if his jokes made me uncomfortable. God no! Don't you get sarcasm? You're a comedian for crying out loud!

Anyway, the appointment. He showed me some studies and gave me some statistics and told me that I had a pretty low chance of getting invasive cancer even without tamoxifen, but the risk drops even more with it. The main side effects are hot flashes and vaginal discharge. More serious, but even less comon side effects are increased risk of uterine cancer and stroke, but these are more likely in post-menopausal women. So there are not a lot of downsides to at least trying the medication. He also told me that, unlike the surgeon and pathologist, he didn't think that DCIS was really cancer. So I may or may not have DCIS, and that may or may not even be considered cancer. Isn't medicine fun? He performed a pretty complete exam, told me I looked a little anemic, and sent me across the street to the oncology building for labwork.

Wow, what a change from the quiet serenity of the Piper Breast Center! Oncology is scary! The waiting room was packed full of people, again all of them older than me (cancer definitely prefers older people), and some of them wearing scarves over their bald chemo heads. I felt bad, being a non-cancer patient only there for labwork. My only cross to bear was that I spent the entire morning down there. Yeah, people are dying and I'm crying about the inconvenience this is to me.

The lab techs were calling people in one after another - they were certainly kept on their toes. There were rooms for chemotherapy  infusions. A bunch of the patients had ports for access to their veins. This is the true battlefield in the war against cancer, that's for sure.

So, I will start tamoxifen in a couple of weeks. I want to wait until after my elbow surgery, which is in 9 days. I follow up with a mammogram and exam by the oncologist in 3 months, then an MRI and exam with the surgeon 6 months after that, and so on until menopause.

I'm sort of over this whole cancer thing (thank God), especially as I am coming to realize that what I have or had is pretty minor. Time has also helped. I have learned a lot on this journey, and my personality has changed a little as well. I'll keep you posted on the tamoxifen and follow ups. And I still have a few things to say about breast cancer and cancer in general, but as my year of being 40 comes to a close (I turn 41 in 3 days!), I can start to put this behind me as well.

12 MILES!!

I didn't do a long run last week because I wanted to give my IT band a break. Instead I did two short runs in the Texas heat and humidity. Today was my scheduled 12 mile run. I was a little apprehensive about it because it would be tied with my longest run EVER, and the last time I ran 12 miles did not go well. It was four years ago in the middle of my training for the 2007 Twin Cities Marathon. I was running with two other people on an out and back course and 6 miles into it (thus, 6 miles from home), my IT band started to hurt. I felt I had no choice but to carry on, which was a big mistake. I could barely walk by the end and it ruined my IT band for several years and of course ended my marathon training. Another reason I was nervous was that I was going to meet my friend Margaret at 6 am and she was planning on running the first 1/2 with me today. Knowing that I had to get up early made it hard to sleep well last night.

But I was up at 5:30, even before my alarm went off. I ate a light breakfast, did some stretches, and ran a mile to meet Margaret. She is an ideal running partner because she's competitive like me, we run at about the same pace, and she lives only a mile away. Perfect! So there she was, at 6 am as planned. The first half of the run went great. We average about 9:30 minute miles and I wasn't even tired or sore. But then I dropped her off at her house, had some water and an energy bar, and went on my way for another 5 miles. The first 3 of the last 5 went ok, but I could tell I was slowing down to a 10 min/mile pace. See what happens when you don't have a friend pushing you? Then, at about mile 10, my IT band started to hurt. I changed my running gait, which helped, but slowed me down even more. I had to stop and stretch a couple of times and by the end of it I was at about 10:30 min/miles, but I made it. YES! It was not perfect, but 1000% times better than my fateful 12 miler 4 years ago.

I am a little concerned about how it will be from here on out. I mean, I'm not even halfway to a marathon and my IT band likes to crap out at 10 miles. But I will forge on, carefully, for as long as I can. A few of us runners were asked to talk about our experience in church yesterday, and sadly, the overlying theme was injury. Of course all of us are at least 40, if not older, and I am sure that has a lot to do with it. Yet another reason being 40 kind of sucks. I am old enough to know what I want, I have enough time and money to do things, but my body has given out. And it's only going to get worse.

Oh well, I really don't dwell on that for long. I am also wise enough to know my limitations and I will baby my knee as much as it needs it. So there may not be a long run next week. We'll see. And if I can't run the marathon this year, I will be ok with that. I think. There are other crazy milestone events to try, right?

The Kids, Part 4 - Morgan

Morgan is our youngest, smallest child. She was born right after her sister and weighed in at about 5 pounds, almost two pounds less than Claire. She was pretty bald until she was about 2. Like her sister, Morgan was an easy baby, but it was evident even at a young age that she had determination. Claire would think and ponder and be content until she was able to do a task (like rolling over). Then she would just up and do it. Morgan would try and try for weeks until she was able to finally do it.

Morgan is our peanut, our baby, our monkey, our princess. She is crazy, from her nonstop action to that curly hair that we can't control. When she enters a room,  it is forever changed by her presence (oftentimes much messier than we would think is possible). Morgan loves attention and it is hard to ignore her. She is also our most challenging child. That determination she showed as an infant has turned into a stubbornness beyond belief. She can outlast anyone. If she wants something, she WILL get it. This makes her a hard child to parent, but we are learning! Heck, we even took her to a pediatric behaviorist when she was a preschooler so we could learn some strategies for controlling her, and the doctor pretty much told us that she was a willful, spirited child, and that she would probably go far in life. Yep, nothing will get in Morgan's way, that's for sure. I only hope she uses her power for good, rather than evil...

In spite of this, Morgan is also our most snuggly and affectionate child. And she has a heart of gold. She recently gave all of her allowance away to a lemonade stand for charity, although that may say as much about her (lack of) financial prowess as her generosity. She is very girlie, and still likes to dress up in her dance costumes or princess dresses, but she also loves to climb trees and play in the mud, usually in high heels. She loves animals and spends much of her free time carrying around one of our pets. The cat is the photo is a stray she found in Hawaii. She is very active, so she is not one for playing board games or anything requiring a long attention span. She is also not very interested in sports. We have tried many activities for her, from theater (she liked), soccer and basketball (she didn't like), cheerleading and gymnastics (ok), dance (better), and diving lessons (I think that was her favorite).  Although she does well in school, I think her strengths are more social rather than academic. I suspect that she will do something in the drama/dance/arts genre. Or maybe she'll just be the popular girl at school and walk around with an entourage. As an adult, she will probably marry well, but I see her with a career in fashion or the performing arts. Of course she'll probably become an accountant or something. Just because she's stubborn enough to prove us wrong.

The Kids, Part 3 - Claire

I must say that the pregnancy with Claire and Morgan was pretty easy for me. Of course it's because I wasn't the one pregnant! Like me, Lisa went 37.5 weeks and had a C-section, but hers was a planned surgery, so 24 hours of labor was not necessary. Lucky! I got to see the girls being born and they both came out folded in two, with their feet over their heads! Ouch! They retain their flexibility to this day. Claire is even double jointed and a few times I accidentally pulled her shoulder out of its socket picking her up when she was younger.

Claire was a super easy baby. In fact, I think the only time she cried was when (in a sleep-deprived state) I accidentally poured milk on her head when she was only a few weeks old. Claire loves that story! Anyway, she was pretty relaxed and content, which is interesting given her personality today. It all changed when the girls turned one. Suddenly, the sweet little babies were toddlers, and watch out! They teamed up and got into exponentially more trouble than either one would alone. They even had to be separated in daycare because they would gang up on the other kids. They were two years old, mind you!

Claire is 7 and 1/2 now, and she seem so much more mature than the boys did at this age. But I think that's a girl thing. She is very independent, confident, intelligent, and a pretty good athlete. She is like a fish in the water, and her swimming coach has mentioned to us how talented she is. However, she still needs to learn how to focus during practices, which I assume will get better as she matures. Her fierce independence combined with her tendency to be a perfectionist has given some pretty interesing results. For instance, especially when she was younger, she would insist on doing something (like getting dressed) herself, but then would have a huge tantrum when she couldn't get it right. Or she would work for an hour on an art project only to crinkle it up and throw it on the floor if she made one little mistake. Thankfully, these traits are tempered a little as she gets older. It is interesting to see the "girl" traits coming out too as she matures. You know, the long phone calls with friends, the cliques, the drama.

Claire still sort of marches to the beat of her own drummer. In fact, we sometimes refer to her as Phoebe from the TV show Friends, because she is just a little different. This can be frustrating at times, but is also what makes Claire, well, Claire. Never a dull moment or lack of a good story for the Christmas letter. For instance, just today, her babysitter took all the kids bowling and Claire both broke the gutter guard and got hand sanitizer all over the special wood on the bowling alley floor. Last time we went bowling, she let go of the ball at the wrong time and launched it at those of us sitting behind her. Another example - she had her first swim meet in January and swam very fast - except her goggles fell off when she dove in so she swam the entire race with her goggles in her hand. Typical Claire. She is also fearless and sort of clumsy, so she is always covered with scrapes and bruises (note her forehead in the photo).

In addition to swimming, Claire loves soccer, gymnastics, and basketball. She is big for her age, which helps her on the playing field. She also insisted (without our prompting) on starting piano lessons, and plays pretty well, although most of the time she forgets some of the music she is supposed to bring to her lesson. She is an avid reader, and goes through at least one Rainbow Fairy book a day. I love how she loves these books! She is also getting pretty good at writing and illustrating her own stories. Claire is equally happy playing in the mud or dressing up in her Christmas dress (no matter what time of year it is). This girl will go far, but where, one can only guess.

The Kids, Part 2 - Jalen

Jalen was born a couple of minutes after his brother. I remember that as the doctor showed him to me over the surgical drape, she said, Here's your Gerber baby! It was true - he had a perfectly big, round head, chubby cheeks, and tufts of blonde hair. But what was that noise? His cry sounded like someone was revving up a chainsaw! To this day, Jalen has the deepest voice of any child I know. I wonder what's going to happen to it when he hits puberty.

Carter vomited his way through his first year of life, but Jalen's really our puker. There was a time when he would projectile vomit several times a week. I can't even keep track of all of the places he has thrown up - Target, Baby Gap, Perkins, McDonalds, Old Country Buffet, on an airplane (that was the best), on the sidewalk, on a boat, and the list goes on. It usually happens when he overeats, so we have learned to be very careful about monitoring his food intake at restaurants, especially because is really gross to have someone in your dinner party throw up all over his plate. As he has gotten older, it is becoming less frequent and he is getting pretty good at hitting the toilet.

As he matures into a pre-teen, I see the suave, preppy boy coming out. He loves to look sharp, and has a suit and 4 ties that he actually likes to wear. He is also very good at matching his outfits. A ladies man even at four years (I saw him flirting with some teenage girls at the Dairy Queen!), I fear for what will come in the next few years.

Jalen is also the most physical, er, aggressive of our children. He's not terrible, but he sure loves to wrestle and has gotten into trouble a few times for hitting his sisters. Ironically, he is also our most sensitive child, especially when it comes to animals. He had a pet rat, Ubie, who died in his arms a few years ago. We made a little card with his pawprint on it and every once in awhile he will get the card out and just lie there with it, crying. It breaks my heart! As rough as he is with his siblings, he is very gentle with the pets.

Jalen enjoys a variety of activities, from sports to drawing (robots and fantastical animals). He has even shown interest in taking a hip-hop dance class. Although the rest of the family skis, he decided to take up snowboarding and he also likes to skateboard on his RipStick. Like his brother, Jalen is an excellent student (freaky smart in math) and is taking piano lessons, which he doesn't exactly love, but he's actually pretty good at it so we won't let him quit.

A perfect day for Jalen would be to watch some cartoons on TV, RipStick for awhile, hang out with his friends, go to a Chinese buffet for dinner, play a soccer game, then watch the Twins or Vikings on TV as someone (preferably Grandpa) tickled his back. We can get him to do anything by tickling his back.

Jalen is always inventing/creating super complex machines to solve the world's problems. Well, at least on paper. So it is natural that he wants to be an engineer or computer programmer/designer as an adult. However, I am willing to put at least a little money on him becoming a veterinarian...  I guess soon enough we'll see!

The Kids, Part 1 - Carter

I am going to spend the next few blog entries writing about my kids. It is a project I've had in the back of my mind for a long time. I thought it would be neat to write down what they are now as kids so that someday they can read about they way they were back then. I will start with Carter.

Carter is technically the oldest, because his head was the furthest down the birth canal. Because there were two babies, however, he was coming down at an angle and his head became jammed during labor. Have I ever mentioned that my pregnancy lasted 37.5 weeks and I begged my doc to induce me because it was the hottest, most humid day of the year? Anyway, I was induced and went pretty quickly into my 24 hours of labor. Then it was finally time to push, and I did that for 3 hours. I was about ready to throw in the towel at that point - no sleep, no food, and the exhaustion one gets from having contractions for so long made me a bit crabby. The doc told me my 3 hours was up and it was time for a C-section. She could have told me they were going to use chains to pull them out and I would have been fine with that. I just wanted to be done with the whole ordeal.

Thirty minutes later, little Carter came out squeaking at the world via C-section. He had (and still has) a bump on his head from the many hours it was wedged in the pelvic canal. He was a crabby baby, which we soon found out was due to reflux. He also wouldn't nurse, so I gave up and starting pumping into bottles for him (and eventually his brother, because it was just easier that way). Carter had many doctor visits his first year of life and spend several months sleeping in a bouncy chair in his crib. He puked all the time! Like 30 times a day! We actually put a tarp on the living room floor in order to save our carpets. Then, at about a year of age, the reflux suddenly stopped and he's hardly thrown up since.

Carter was a pretty typical toddler, but at about 15 months he turned into the World's Pickiest Eater, a title he still holds to this day. It probably explains why he is so skinny, but food is just not a priority with him. He would rather go without eating anything than force down something he doesn't like (which is almost anything that isn't pizza, peanut butter, or cereal). We've fought many battles over this and have finally decided to give up. With 3 other kids needing our attention, this was one thing we decided to let go.

Now Carter is almost ten. TEN! He is still skinny and still has a bit of a squeaky voice, but I can now see in him the young man he will soon be. He loves soccer, tolerates piano, and will play touch football - but don't tackle him. He is a little dramatic about getting hurt. Carter is also an excellent student and a rule-follower to boot. What teacher wouldn't like him?

He loves a good joke and will read the funnies whenever he finds a newspaper. He has also read all of my Calvin and Hobbes comic books. I just love his laugh - it is infectious.  Interestingly, he isn't much for hugs (hmm.. where did he get that from?), but will sometimes, even now, come up and hug me or grab my hand when we are walking. But these things have to be on his terms. Carter is responsible, independent, and unsentimental. He "fake cries" at sad movies (like Old Yeller) that make the other kids cry for real.

His brother is showing an interest in girls, but that is not Carter's thing. He would rather play or watch sports. Or read. But romance - absolutely not. Good thing, too, because he does not dress well. I am no fashionista, but even I am embarrassed sometimes by his too-short jeans and old t-shirt outfits. Look at the photo - his t-shirt totally clashes with his shorts! His travel tastes are also interesting. He LOVES the suburbs. He wants to live in Maple Grove forever. Not a fan of the country or the city. His idea of a perfect vacation would be to travel to another suburb, like Plymouth (MN).

I love this age because kids think they can do anything with their lives and haven't had reality beat that out of them yet. For awhile he was going to be a professional football player. (Remember how he doesn't like to get tackled? According to him, was too fast and would never be tackled! Easy!) Now he will be a professional soccer player. And why not? He thinks he's good at everything. I'll let him hold on to that for as long as possible.

My first serious attempt at meditation

My mind is constantly racing. That probably accounts for my general restlessness and also my insomnia. I have had a lot of downtime in the past couple of days, as Lisa and I were in Texas visiting her family. There's only so many Words with Friends games one can play before they go a little nuts. I can't sit still, but I'm trying to teach myself how to just let it all go once in awhile, and relax.

This morning Lisa's dad took us out for a ride in his pontoon boat. It was a lovely, if hot and sticky, day and I quickly fell asleep in the sun. Even while sleeping, my mind began to wander until it woke me up. So I thought I'd try a little meditation. Now I have had no training at all in the art of meditation, but I've read Eat, Pray, Love, so I get the general idea. You need to clear your mind of all thought. Harder than it sounds! I first started to make the hohmmm sound in my brain, but that didn't work. So then I repeated the word Triangle in my mind, while at the same time envisioning triangles. Yeah, I made it up. But this time it worked for awhile. I was training my brain, one step at a time. I would do the triangle thing until I felt my mind start wander/think of things other than triangles. When this happened I would stop, regroup, and try again. Sort of like doing wind sprints. I tried to go Triangle for longer periods each time. I think I made it up to about 10 seconds. Hey! Baby steps!

I actually have a meditation book at home, and I may actually open it now that I'm inspired. I am sure it has some other tips and methods on how to meditate, but I think that Triangle is a good start.

Should we move?

I love opportunities, but I'm not so fond of making decisions. I'm the type of person who can ponder for many minutes the choice between two different brands of laundry detergent. So you can imagine how bad it is when I am challenged to make a major decision.

We have the opportunity to buy a little hobby farm about 5 miles from our current home. We would, of course, sell our house and move. The benefits include additional income (for reasons I won't get into right now), teaching the kids the value of physical labor and living off the land (to some degree), and the ability to raise all sort of interesting animals, including the beehive I've always wanted. The house is a little smaller than our current home, but the layout would suit our family better. Like our current property, this too is on a lake. No, neither Lisa nor I would leave our current employ.

The downsides include not having close neighbors (some of whom have become close friends), no easy access to the bike path that we use all the time, having to drive a little further to go into "town" (but it's only a couple of miles, really), and the challenge of running another business on top of the vet practice. I also wonder how living in the country would affect the kids. Would they miss not being able to just run over to their friends' house? Would they be too isolated? It's only 10 acres, so it's not in the middle of nowhere or anything, but still...

Lisa and I discuss this all the time, and we go back and forth a lot. We also suffer from some degree of inertia. It would be a huge pain to put our house on the market, especially during this real estate depression.

But is THIS my Next Big Thing? When have I ever shied away from opportunity? We're smart and we know how to work hard; we can make this a good thing.

Ugh. Too much analysis, resulting in, of course, paralysis.

Input would be appreciated, especially from people who have raise a family in a somewhat rural setting.

But do we ever really change?

I met up today with a friend who was diagnosed last year with DCIS, the same cancer I was told I had. Her treatment ended six months ago, but she says it still messes with her mind on occasion. I totally get that. I still think about it a lot (every day, in fact). And interestingly, I look back on the two month cancer ordeal with some nostalgia. It seems crazy, but there were many good aspects of that time. For one thing, I checked out of normal life for awhile. I pretty much just took a break, and the world gave me permission to do so. Also, I had a completely new perspective on life. Things that I thought were important no longer were, and vice versa. It was kind of like a honeymoon between me and the rest of the universe. I loved everyone and they loved me. Little things didn't matter. I didn't get all mad about minor annoyances like I normally do.

But, as I explained to my friend, I feel myself reverting back to the person I was before February 28. My personality has been shaped by unyielding genetics as well as 40 years of experience. It's not going to change completely just because of one life-altering event. Yes, New Jami is starting to revert back to some Old Jami ways. And that is a little sad. I liked the New Jami. I liked not caring about money and whether the house was clean. I liked not yelling at the kids or getting into stupid arguments with Lisa. I liked seeing the good in people, and wanting to reach out to everyone.

OK. It's not as bad as you think. The Old Jami wasn't an ogre, and the new New Jami still has some of the qualities of the old New Jami. Does that make sense? I am a forever changed person, but now I see that it will take effort to keep some of these changes as part of my personality. However, I have seen the light, if you will, and I know the validity of being kinder and gentler. I am more keenly aware of the value of friendships and family. And I am re-thinking my goals and the mark I want to make on this world.

I just finished reading an article in Time Magazine about optimism. One of points made in the article was that humans are hard-wired to be optimistic. It specifically mentions that people will even see the bright side of a cancer diagnosis, much like I have. I don't regret the medical journey that I've been on. Yes, it was rough at times, but that's life, you know? It is part of my narrative and one of the many events that has, and will continue to, shape my life. I have to accept that, and honor the journey.

Attention Deficit

Not to make light of people who really do have the disorder, but I think that many of us suffer from an attention deficit. This is likely brought on by the technology that is available and the fast pace of the flow of information. How many of you will be dining out with your family and will sneak a look at your smart phone? Admit it! And for what? Is there such an urgent need to be caught up on your email and the stautus of your Facebook friends that you can't put the phone away for even an hour? I thought about it today as I was working at my desk. For the first time in awhile I actually had over an hour to get caught up on the mound of paperwork sitting in my inbox (a real box/tray, not an email inbox). So I tackled it with gusto... for about 10 minutes. Then I had to take a break to check my email, and my client phone worklist, and Facebook, and... well, you know. I am pretty certain that I did not have this pressing need to switch gears every 10 minutes before the internet became so popular.

I still feel like I get a lot done, but I would probably be much more productive if I would just stay on task for awhile. Even an hour. I remember in college I would hole myself up in a little cubicle in the library for hours on end during finals week. I would only take occasional breaks to walk around. And maybe I would have my Walkman on for distraction while studying. But that's it! There was no email to check, no cell phone to answer, no Words with Friends game waiting for my move.

Do I long for those days? I am not sure. I guess in a way I do, because I have lately had this pressing desire to just go to the library for 8 hours to study or work on my case reports that are due in September. However, I think that desire comes from having 4 loud kids around at home, and my inability to actually have a large chunk of time at work to study. I suspect that at the library in the year 2011 I would still be sneaking a look at my email every once in awhile.

I am pretty sure that there have been studies documenting how being so fragmented actually affects your brain and its ability to process - ....  OK, I'm back from a quick check of my Facebook account. See? I can't even blog about being unable to focus without losing focus! I am also pretty sure that I could re-train my brain to stay on task. The question is, should I? How important is it? How much is the quality of my work suffering from me flitting from on task to another so routinely?

I do feel guilty about not giving my undivided attention to my clients and staff. And at home I should probably put the iPad away until the kids are in bed. My practice manager will get frustrated with me because I don't hear half of what she says because I am looking at the computer while she is talking to me. And my kids get into all sorts of trouble when they know I'm not paying enough attention to what they're doing. Hmmm. Maybe I will try, just try, to do one thing at a time. For a day. We'll see how it goes.

Eleven Miles!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I postponed Monday's long run because it was raining, plus I wanted to go to the zoo with the family. That meant that I had to do my 11 mile run today (Wednesday) in order to fit it into my schedule. And if you're thinking that 11 miles seems like a really long ways to run, I can assure you that it is. Also, a long run is much different from a short one. In a short run (3 miles or less), you are going faster and tend to use your heart and lung power to get through it. It's challenging, but in a different way. After a good short run, you need to catch your breath. In a longer run, it's not about your cardiovascular status; it's about your muscle endurance. After about 7 miles your feet and calves start to hurt. After about 9 miles, you dread each step because you know it will be painful. In addition, your feet feel like they have 10 pound weights strapped to them and you have to will them to move forward each and every step of the way.

And if you're like me, your IT band will start to hurt about a mile before the end of the run. It's become like clockwork for me. However, this time it didn't seem quite so bad and I was able to run the entire 11 miles, and I wasn't dragging my leg at the end like last week.

Probably the worst part about this run is that I got discouraged. Halfway through I stopped at home to change dogs and get some water. I really didn't want to go back out there! And towards the end, with as much pain as I was in, I realized that I'm not even halfway to a marathon! How the hell am I going to run 26 miles???

Well, that's what training is for. A month ago, 7 miles seemed like a lot. In another month, I'll hopefully look back on this run and wonder how I was even struggling with 11 miles. You don't go into these races unprepared.

Plus, it feels DAMN good to be done running 11 miles. I can brag about it for the rest of the day. And I can consume 1100 more calories today. And although my legs and feet hurt, overall I feel pretty good. That runner's high, you know.

I know that not everyone is willing and able to run long distances. But I encourage you to challenge your body somehow. Make it hurt. Then do it again in a few days. Eventually you may notice how much stronger you are. And you'll also realize that most of your limitations are mental rather than physical.

Try it, and let me know how it goes. No, really. Do it.