Before I write about what I’m going to write about today, I want to tell you (in case you aren’t a Facebook friend of mine or in case you are and you’ve hidden my feed, you brat!) my friend, Claudia Brevis, has her first book out on Amazon today. Kindle version right now, paperback version coming in a couple of weeks!
You need to stampede over to Amazon immediately and fork over a small amount of money for a whole lot of incredible story-reading! I’ve read it twice and I loved it – I’m going to read it again!
Oh, and I’m listed on the page of Acknowledgements.
I mean, Go Claudia!
So. Today’s blog entry besides Claudia’s success and my 15 minutes of fame…
Yesterday my friend Tammy and I were texting. She wanted to know if I had my appointment with the Lung Nodule Clinic (I do, next Tuesday I meet with a thoracic surgeon – they are really listening to me!)
Whilst texting, Tammy meant to type “said” but it somehow got auto-corrected to “airbag”.
You know I now have to call her by the nickname of Airbag. I just have to. It’s how that stuff happens!
Yesterday one of my coworkers by the name of Brad (don’t anyone turn me in to HR!) was telling me that one of his work nicknames was “Bad Brad”. According to BB, a long time ago when these kinds of things were still allowed to occur without immediate firing, he’d gotten a bit tipsy at a work function and mooned the room. Another employee approached him, offering him money to go to Cost Cutters to get his hairy ass shaved.
“So now they call me Bad Brad!” he said.
“Well,” I replied, “I’m going to call you Hairy!”
Hi might regret sharing that little story with me.
I’ve got a few nicknames myself.
“Juveli” was my nickname throughout high school and college. Nobody used my first name, not even teachers or professors once they heard it.
I babysat a friend’s daughter and she got confused, calling me, “Vujeli” instead. Which my friend, Dan, turned into “Vaj Vajelly!”
CiNDy’s mom misheard me on a phone call once, telling CiNDy that “Kathy, The Belly” had called.
And then there’s the GS (gold student) to my friend, Karna’s SS (silver student). Unless she beats me to the first 100wpm on the Star Wall of Fame at DCTC!
These days people mispronounce my married name Hauck as “Hawk” (It’s pronounced Howk) so often that I’m thinking about changing my first name to “Kitty”. Kitty Hawk, get it?
But now I can’t because Claudia put “Kathy” on her acknowledgement page. Guess I’m stuck with the name I was given!
What are your nicknames?
Blog entry by K-Lo :o)
So the other day I was whining to my boss that my chest was feeling “bronchial” and it was probably “the cancer.”
She wasn’t happy with my diagnosis and told me to start thinking positively.
“Well, it could be that my chest is feeling bronchial because I lifted weights the other night.”
“That’s it!” she said.
“Or maybe it’s the peanut butter I ate. Every time I eat peanut butter, I feel like I’m having a heart attack.”
“Maybe you should stop eating peanut butter!”
So I was sharing this story on the phone with my high school best friend, Tammy. Filling her in on the nodule in my lung. Tammy got quiet and started to stammer before I begged her to tell me what she was having a hard time telling me.
One of Tammy’s co-workers/friends had breast cancer before I did. During one of her routine exams they found a nodule on her lung. They told her to come back in 3 months for another scan. But she couldn’t do it. She couldn’t wait.
She had the cancer.
This made for a very troublesome night of sleep. Tammy and her co-worker/friend were working together the next morning so I gave them a call on my way to an early morning meeting.
I spoke directly with her co-worker/friend who told me about her small lung nodule that turned out to be the cancer. But because it was caught so early, they removed it and she didn’t have to have either chemo or radiation.
After hanging up with her, I immediately called my friend/nurse at the Piper Breast Center and left her a voicemail telling her what I’d heard and that I didn’t want to wait 3 months. I wanted to move forward.
Following lunch she called me and apologized for taking awhile to get back to me but informing me that she’d been making calls on my behalf.
Have I told you how great my cancer team is?
So here’s the plan…I should be hearing from the Lung Nodule Clinic (there really is such a thing!) affiliated with my cancer center and will schedule a consult with them. From what Tammy’s co-worker/friend said, the biopsy was pretty much nothing. Which is probably relative at this point in time but it’s better than going totally mental before the end of June!
Of course I’ll keep you posted!
Update on that last entry: I am suffering very little after everything became clear following my conversation with a friend this week. It truly is amazing, how much the truth will set you free! I appreciate her possible honesty.
Note to Family: This has nothing to do with any of you.
This has been a very heavy week for me. I have so many things to write about but I have to do it one event at a time.
Here it goes.
This is a story about my disdain for being lied to. Whether it be by actual words or omission.
A dear friend of mine has been pulling away from me for the last year or so. Barely returning calls or texts. Letting me know that it’s not me, it’s her. Which, of course, assures my mind that it’s all me! I was hurt with the withdrawal and the lack of a friend’s support. Which, I don’t ask much of. Hurt by them going through whatever it was they were going through without leaning on me. As is kind of a golden rule when it comes to friendship.
A Friends Honor, if I am to quote her.
Finally, we were together and she opened up to let me know what’s going on.
As she talked, I was supportive to her but moving more into shock with each sentence.
This friend of mine, whom I’ve known for a long time has been living a decades-old life of deception. Stomping on heart after heart after heart.
As we parted, there were promises of future get-togethers but as she was walking to her car, I turned and looked at her, knowing it was the last time I’d probably ever see her. When I got home and thought about the words that had spilled from her mouth, I knew it was the last time I’d ever want to see her.
She’s been lying to everyone in her life for 30+ years. I have only been party to a handful of lies from her. The more I think about this, the more I realize that I don’t know this person at all. All I know is the public persona she’s put out for me to see. I really liked that persona but the play is over, curtain’s drawn, and it’s time to go home.
What her deception is doing is crushing the lives of so many people. Devastating families and friends.
She believes she is being true to her self; when what I believe is that she is being selfish. Narcissistic.
Her whole adult life has been lie after lie after lie. She has used people for her comfort level, portraying a very comfortable lifestyle while living in a fantasy world. She has stolen years from the people closest to her.
But the biggest lie she’s telling is the one she’s telling to herself. She believes that when her choice pans out, she’s going to be so very happy for the rest of her life.
Moving from one deception to another.
I do wish her happiness because she’s been my dear friend and I always wish for the people I love to be happy.
I just don’t think it’s possible for her to have this happiness when it’s been built on a foundation of lies and the cruelest of cruelties for the people who she is supposed to be responsible for.
And with that, I walk away. There are no words she could ever say to me again (not that she would) that would get me to believe anything that comes out of her mouth.
Will I grieve for this? I will. But I will not grieve for the loss of our fake friendship, I will grieve for all the destruction she leaves in her wake.
I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, My friends are deadbeats! All of them!
Not a one of them would go to the Barbie Dream House with me. Not a one!
It’s a good thing they’ve got better sense than me or I might have actually gone to the stupid Barbie Dream House which, from the looks of the pictures I found on the Google, is really meant for little girls and not old broads who are the same age as Barbie.
Barbie never grew up while I am incredibly mature.
And have deadbeat friends!
God! When I say I want to do something, you people ought to jump!
I mentioned to my niece, Tracy (hi sweetie!) that I had deadbeat friends and I wanted to join her and her buddy, Amanda for some of the adventures they always seem to have…archery, painting stuff, whatever.
They just invited me to join them on one of those mud runs. You know what I’m talking about. You run, there are hills, you crawl on your belly – like a reptile – through mud with barbed wire over your head.
Guess who’s the deadbeat now?
Auntie Oma SuperNova (aka me)
If they want me to join them for a baking class, a group massage, cocktail mixing, pole dancing, I’m in!
But I will never crawl through the mud and mess up these rented Barbie boobs!
I do this I don’t know how many times a year. I decide it’s time to get back into the Weight Watchers World of points counting. After all, I did lose 30 pounds that one time counting points.
Oh sure, I gained all 30 pounds back plus another five or some other such number, some ten years or so ago.
I’ve tried the Weight Watchers thing many times since that one time. Each time I lose absolutely no weight but gain more self-loathing about my inability to go OCD with the points counting and food focusing.
I just did it again. Signed up for the on-line program a few weeks ago, lost 3 pounds then got annoyed with the points counting and food-focused obsession, canceling my account.
I’ve gotten so good at canceling my on-line account that it now takes me hardly any time at all to find the right link to click on. I am a Weight Watchers-account-canceling prodigy!
What I’m doing differently this time is not allowing myself to be self-critical about my inability to obsess about everything I eat or drink. If they could come up with a counter similar to my steps pedometer, I’d sign up! Instead I’m going to focus on making better eating choices (between the not-so-better eating choices) and getting myself off of the couch and into the gym – or down the street while I walk the dog who should sign up for Weight Watchers before I do! What with going from 56 to 68 pounds in one winter! If I was decent with math, I’d be able to figure out exactly what rate of percentage that was and it’d be huge!
But I digress. Speaking of digressing,
This reminds me of a story my friend CiNDy told me about a friend of hers, who died from cancer several years ago. Something about eating candy bars and not worrying about gaining weight because as far as she knew, fat people didn’t die from cancer.
Today, unencumbered by that Weight Watchers cloud, I met a friend for lunch. We had beautiful salads for our entree followed by a dessert for each of us.
The food was lovely but the conversation was what I focused on. And that, my friends, was a once in a lifetime conversation.
It’s interesting, what runs through my mind these days, following the CT scan that shows a 3mm nodule in my right lung.
I don’t think it’s anything but then again, it could be something.
If it’s something I will be pretty upset. I know that we all have to die some day but I’d really like it if I could hang around until I was irritated with still being alive. Whatever age that is.
It it’s nothing I will be thankful for the opportunity it gave me to teach me an ever greater lesson about not taking life for granted.
I’ve received that message loud and clear!
It’s not like I spend my days being thankful for another day pre-ashes. It’s just that, internally, I am a very happy person. This doesn’t mean that I live this fantastically wonderful and thrilling life. It just means that I get it. Life is a roller coaster with it’s ups and it’s downs. It’s a thrilling ride, it’s a scary ride. Sometimes it makes you puke. Sometimes there’s a technical failure and you fall off and break your neck. Sometimes you break through the safety bar and stand up, getting yourself decapitated. But mostly, it’s a whole lot of anticipation and screaming and laughing and running to get back on the ride. First row, last row, or anywhere in between.
With an occasional break for some Dippin’ Dots and Funnel Cakes.
The results are in from the CT scan. The pain I was experiencing is just scar tissue.
There is a teeny tiny nodule in my right lung. It’s just 3mm. Teeny tiny. According to the doctor, this is a very common finding in a CT scan. Someone who had never had cancer would be asked to return in a year for a follow-up CT scan. Someone with a history of cancer, like me, returns in 3 months for a follow-up scan.
Confirmed by CiNDy’s radiologist sister-in-law and my niece, Tracy, who was a nurse at a nursing home for three years, a teeny tiny nodule in a lung is truly a common finding these days. It wasn’t my doctor just trying to get off the phone.
“You’re off the hook, but not off the hook,” my doctor said.
So there you have it. We’ll know more in 3 months.
Until then I’m just going to continue to do what I always do: work, read, eat, laugh with great friends, love my family.
Drink more wine than usual.
Take a Xanax now and again.
If my intuition is anything, I’d guess that I was either cancer-free or ready to accept another battle because yesterday, after getting the news while I was at work, I headed down to the vending machines to get some lunch. I look at the candy bars, I looked at the salads. I looked at the candy bars. I looked at the candy bars.
I got a salad.
Would someone with cancer in their body go for a salad if they were living like they were dying?