Finally heading to bed after crashing on the couch for a couple of hours. Fell asleep trying to write a blog post. That's the trouble with blogging and having a real life.
I wonder how those who write an 80+ tweet, synapse-by-synapse, stream-of-consciousness report at 3:00 in the morning do it.
I'm talking tweets, here. No reflection on you, Lem. You haven't treated us to an all-night solo comment performance in some time. And repeated comments are a lot less weird, for some reason, than a wall of tweets.
I was tempted to do late night commenting long ago, but afraid that some asshole (actually a couple of specific assholes) would mock me, so I've been much more rational and discreet over the years.
On February 4, 2009, I was in that weird space between test and result. I had my PET CT scan on Jan. 30, and my appointment to go back and get results was Feb. 10. It's an odd mix of fear and hope; fear, because my first PET CT scan (in 2007) unexpectedly detected my third primary cancer; hope, because having completed treatment, I was optimistic that no cancer critter could have survived the surgical, chemical and radiative blast I had been exposed to.
I was also really into Wicked, having just seen it Jan. 30 (that evening after my scan). I cried like a baby during "For Good" and was listening to that track as much as I could stand.
In a way, I'm glad I'm not on the tenterhooks I was last year; in another sense, I was physically in a lot better shape than I am now.
The hysterectomy and side effects from Femara have been very hard. Low energy, weight gain and bloating, wicked hot flashes, pain and stiffness. I am 90 years old.
Survivorship is hard.
Last year I was looking forward to spring and rowing again. I did row. This year I'm wondering whether to even bother getting my boat out of winter storage because I can't imagine rowing while in this level of pain. Life without rowing...sucks.
At 63 years of age, I find myself going to a lot of funerals. Good friend died Wednesday, 58 years of age. Yesterday, stopped over to another friend's house who was just diagnosed with cancer. He wasn't home, but his wife last Tuesday, said that he was not expected to live long. Someday, it will be my turn.
I'm flying to the Twin Cities tonight after work to visit my father, who lives in an assisted living home in St. Paul. His senility has taken a turn for the worse, and I want to see if he still recognizes me.
Air travel is so cheap (in constant dollars) relative to what it cost in the 1970s. The whole trip, including car rental and two nights in a motel, will probably cost less than $400.
If you pray, say one today for the safety of all who travel. And for the peace and comfort of old people.
I am so sorry to hear that, kentuckyliz. You're a great online presence, and it's hard to hear about bad things in the lives of people you like. I always enjoy seeing your name, because I know there will be something interesting with wit and spirit attached to it.
Several people in the online world I inhabit have been ill recently. I don't know if it helps, but I know there were a lot of well-wishes and prayers directed their way. Ron, for example, who has been a commenter here, had only a 60% chance of survival, but he's now back and tweeting up his usual witty storm. I like to think all the prayers and wishes from his circle of (mostly) disembodied internet friends played a part in his recovery.
Similarly, I'm sure you have many, many people pulling for you, myself among them. Again, no one knows whether prayers or well-wishes do any good, but as someone who is convinced that consciousness is transcendent, I can't but think all the positive good will you have created will come back to you.
But to return to non-etherial Earth, Pogo' right: Pain sucks.
kentuckyliz, hi from your fellow hysterectomy traveler. I'd been wondering how you're doing; you haven't been posting as much as I was used to seeing, and I've missed you.
I pray for the best for you; I hope your pain is manageable and your energy takes a turn for the better.
This seems like an opportunity to express my gratitude for each of you who has commented on this thread - and the many others who are not here at the moment - for all the banter, humor, insights, opinions and just simple good company over the past several years.
I'm also grateful to those who read without comment.
Our dog died yesterday. She was 16 years old, a border collie/retriever mix. We got her from the pound in Knoxville in January of '95, soon after my husband and I started dating and fell in love.
It's hard to imagine life without her; she's been with us almost as long as we've been together! Irreplaceable. She was pretty healthy until the last couple weeks, so for a big dog, she lived a long, great life. We are trying to remember that.
As cancer survivors, we know that the fear, pain, weakness and depression are temporary. I wish that when I was in the depths of that during all the treatments and surgeries that I could have looked forward and seen how it would turn out. How it would all go away and blossom into a new life devoid of all that misery. If I only could have known how renewable we are, how completely behind you it eventually is. Then I could have seen it for what it truly is: temporary and worth every minute and sacrifice.
This will pass. The future days of rowing will be sweeter than ever. Patience, fellow traveler. The world will still be waiting when you are ready. All you need to do is ride this out.
A year ago there were unbelievable red bushes against the snow on Althouse.
I saw them and said "Was that a YEAR ago?"
Instapundit noted yesterday that time speeds up as one gets older. (I was glad someone besides me is noticing. Worth some grant money from some place, I'm sure.)
So I am with all the good wishes for you KLliz. I am sorry you are in pain.
But when spring starts to creep in -- on one of those first warm days? Go row.
kentuckyliz: Wow, you are really having a rough time. I am so sorry you're having to go through all that, and I really, really hope and pray that the horizon gets brighter soon.
Pogo and Knox: I can relate to both of those things (losing dogs and family members). Big parts of the last year, both. I wish you both peace amidst the loss.
At the risk of sounding like trite -- thank you for sharing, reader_iam. I am sorry for your loss. (Ruth Anne is a good person. Miss her company here.)
Sorry to hear about you dog, knox. We still miss ours and it has been over a year.
Althouse commenters have had significant losses this year.
And some joyful gains.
Life continues. Spring does come.
(And those of you who live in the DC, VA area. 20" - 30" of snow due Friday and Saturday. You have our good will and hope you do well.)
kentuckyliz, sorry to hear that. I have family in similar circumstances, and I see how frustrating it is for them. I hope your health turns a corner soon, and you're back out on the water. You'll be in my prayers.
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45 comments:
Hm, what happened Feb 4, 2009? First date?
Sycamores still gleaming in the moonlight.
A year ago i was posting a lot of nonsense.
What an embarrassing nightmare.
You all must think I'm nuts or something...
Hey Meade were you Henry that day?
That was pretty neat, under the radar as it were.
No, Lem, I've never been Henry. And we don't think you're nuts. Far from it. We quite like you.
A year ago i was posting a lot of nonsense
Who wasn't?
I don't. I don't even remember to turn off the stove.
1:00 AM.
Finally heading to bed after crashing on the couch for a couple of hours. Fell asleep trying to write a blog post. That's the trouble with blogging and having a real life.
I wonder how those who write an 80+ tweet, synapse-by-synapse, stream-of-consciousness report at 3:00 in the morning do it.
I wonder why they do it.
I don't wonder that they generally make no sense.
The squirrel's nest from last year is gone.
I'm talking tweets, here. No reflection on you, Lem. You haven't treated us to an all-night solo comment performance in some time. And repeated comments are a lot less weird, for some reason, than a wall of tweets.
I was tempted to do late night commenting long ago, but afraid that some asshole (actually a couple of specific assholes) would mock me, so I've been much more rational and discreet over the years.
Now I'm the asshole mocking the 3 AM-ers.
* Bill Gates is trying to bring the good old days back, but with a modern twist. That should go viral, but probably won't.
* If I set this up to use a crayon font, would Gabriel Hanna be able to understand it?
It's only 1:27 AM here.
Snowing, Sleeting. Freezing raining.
Going to bed.
BTW -- that pictures is great, but a tad disorienting.
wv promen
Althouse became promen last year?
Or proman.
You haven't treated us to an all-night solo comment performance in some time.
Honestly, lots maybe all of those were.. induced. if know my meaning.
I remember and mark the dates (/Dates) that strewed the path of my marrying my true love, too.
: )
Enjoy!
Its 3:00am I finished watching, streaming Synecdoche, New York (2008)
On February 4, 2009, I was in that weird space between test and result. I had my PET CT scan on Jan. 30, and my appointment to go back and get results was Feb. 10. It's an odd mix of fear and hope; fear, because my first PET CT scan (in 2007) unexpectedly detected my third primary cancer; hope, because having completed treatment, I was optimistic that no cancer critter could have survived the surgical, chemical and radiative blast I had been exposed to.
I was also really into Wicked, having just seen it Jan. 30 (that evening after my scan). I cried like a baby during "For Good" and was listening to that track as much as I could stand.
In a way, I'm glad I'm not on the tenterhooks I was last year; in another sense, I was physically in a lot better shape than I am now.
The hysterectomy and side effects from Femara have been very hard. Low energy, weight gain and bloating, wicked hot flashes, pain and stiffness. I am 90 years old.
Survivorship is hard.
Last year I was looking forward to spring and rowing again. I did row. This year I'm wondering whether to even bother getting my boat out of winter storage because I can't imagine rowing while in this level of pain. Life without rowing...sucks.
Pain sucks, kentuckyliz, but may peace be within your grasp.
A year ago there were more people in my family.
Ever onward, regardless.
Even middle aged white men sing the blues, though usually just to themselves.
Mind-boggling sentence from the article linked in the "middle-class Obama" post:
President Obama's 165th flight on Air Force One required all the customary protocols of a presidential trip.
165!
At 63 years of age, I find myself going to a lot of funerals. Good friend died Wednesday, 58 years of age. Yesterday, stopped over to another friend's house who was just diagnosed with cancer. He wasn't home, but his wife last Tuesday, said that he was not expected to live long. Someday, it will be my turn.
I'm flying to the Twin Cities tonight after work to visit my father, who lives in an assisted living home in St. Paul. His senility has taken a turn for the worse, and I want to see if he still recognizes me.
Air travel is so cheap (in constant dollars) relative to what it cost in the 1970s. The whole trip, including car rental and two nights in a motel, will probably cost less than $400.
If you pray, say one today for the safety of all who travel. And for the peace and comfort of old people.
I am so sorry to hear that, kentuckyliz. You're a great online presence, and it's hard to hear about bad things in the lives of people you like. I always enjoy seeing your name, because I know there will be something interesting with wit and spirit attached to it.
Several people in the online world I inhabit have been ill recently. I don't know if it helps, but I know there were a lot of well-wishes and prayers directed their way. Ron, for example, who has been a commenter here, had only a 60% chance of survival, but he's now back and tweeting up his usual witty storm. I like to think all the prayers and wishes from his circle of (mostly) disembodied internet friends played a part in his recovery.
Similarly, I'm sure you have many, many people pulling for you, myself among them. Again, no one knows whether prayers or well-wishes do any good, but as someone who is convinced that consciousness is transcendent, I can't but think all the positive good will you have created will come back to you.
But to return to non-etherial Earth, Pogo' right: Pain sucks.
Good luck, and keep us posted.
Echo Theo on looking forward to reading kentuckyliz comments.
It's another reason I've been reading this blog for years; participating in conversations with folks I would never ever have otherwise met.
I'd be really disappointed to discover Althouse made up all of the commenters herself, including me.
=)
Good luck to you kentuckyliz.
K-liz,
You are a must-read commenter.
Here's hoping you're back out on the water in the Spring. In the mean time, I'll be praying for you.
kentuckyliz,
Fuck.
Consider that a message of love from The Macho Response.
kentuckyliz, hi from your fellow hysterectomy traveler. I'd been wondering how you're doing; you haven't been posting as much as I was used to seeing, and I've missed you.
I pray for the best for you; I hope your pain is manageable and your energy takes a turn for the better.
Scott, I join you in praying for the comfort of the old folks.
@kentuckyliz My heart goes out to you.
k-liz - my heart goes out to you, as well. Never give up on that dream of rowing...
And add some prayers for self described middle-aged people. We need their witty comments too. Bissage, this one's for you.
kentuckyliz I hope you will get good news.
This seems like an opportunity to express my gratitude for each of you who has commented on this thread - and the many others who are not here at the moment - for all the banter, humor, insights, opinions and just simple good company over the past several years.
I'm also grateful to those who read without comment.
Many thanks.
Kentuckyliz, you're (obviously) a big favorite here. We're all pulling for you!
Our dog died yesterday. She was 16 years old, a border collie/retriever mix. We got her from the pound in Knoxville in January of '95, soon after my husband and I started dating and fell in love.
It's hard to imagine life without her; she's been with us almost as long as we've been together! Irreplaceable. She was pretty healthy until the last couple weeks, so for a big dog, she lived a long, great life. We are trying to remember that.
kentuckyliz,
As cancer survivors, we know that the fear, pain, weakness and depression are temporary. I wish that when I was in the depths of that during all the treatments and surgeries that I could have looked forward and seen how it would turn out. How it would all go away and blossom into a new life devoid of all that misery. If I only could have known how renewable we are, how completely behind you it eventually is. Then I could have seen it for what it truly is: temporary and worth every minute and sacrifice.
This will pass. The future days of rowing will be sweeter than ever. Patience, fellow traveler. The world will still be waiting when you are ready. All you need to do is ride this out.
A year ago there were unbelievable red bushes against the snow on Althouse.
I saw them and said "Was that a YEAR ago?"
Instapundit noted yesterday that time speeds up as one gets older. (I was glad someone besides me is noticing. Worth some grant money from some place, I'm sure.)
So I am with all the good wishes for you KLliz. I am sorry you are in pain.
But when spring starts to creep in -- on one of those first warm days? Go row.
Lem -- how's the job hunt?
kentuckyliz: Wow, you are really having a rough time. I am so sorry you're having to go through all that, and I really, really hope and pray that the horizon gets brighter soon.
Pogo and Knox: I can relate to both of those things (losing dogs and family members). Big parts of the last year, both. I wish you both peace amidst the loss.
At the risk of sounding like trite -- thank you for sharing, reader_iam. I am sorry for your loss. (Ruth Anne is a good person. Miss her company here.)
Sorry to hear about you dog, knox. We still miss ours and it has been over a year.
Althouse commenters have had significant losses this year.
And some joyful gains.
Life continues. Spring does come.
(And those of you who live in the DC, VA area. 20" - 30" of snow due Friday and Saturday. You have our good will and hope you do well.)
Knox, Pogo, Reader - Not much to say. Just sending love your way.
kentuckyliz, sorry to hear that. I have family in similar circumstances, and I see how frustrating it is for them. I hope your health turns a corner soon, and you're back out on the water. You'll be in my prayers.
knox, sorry about your dog.
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