Cabernet and an Allen Wrench

My urologist called me this morning and told me the cancer had not spread to the lining of my bladder. So no more chemo, but I will have to be checked with a cystoscopy every four months. I am so incredibly relieved. My understanding is a cystoscopy should be fairly simple without the kind of lingering effects I had with the surgery and chemo. I was not feeling great for a few days, but by Friday evening felt good enoigh to go to Blue Pit for jackfruit barbecue. And Sunday I spent the day at an off-site Barcs event. While I was at the shelter Sunday before the event I met a little old lady kitty named Macchiato. She was skin and bones, scruffy, but had the biggest purr when she got out of her little bed to greet me. At 18, she likely does not have a ton of time left, but I was determined she was not going to die alone in the shelter. If her pleas for a rescue went unanswered, I was going to bring her home. But this must be a week for good news. A rescue is picking her up today. A...

Today I had my bladder surgery. I was my surgeon's first patient of the day, which meant getting to the hospital at 6 am, but it also meant I'd get out early, which was good. But, as usual, everything took longer than imagined, and it was not without its little twists and turns. Seems the staff assigned to me had never had a patient with a removable leg. Patients normally walk to the OR. One staffer seemed a little flummoxed, but another got a transport wheelchair and off I went. All were impressed at how easily I climbed on to the operating table. The surgery went well, but I admit I was in more pain than I had imagined, particularly because I was not prepared to get a dose of chemotherapy after the surgery. It was infused directly into my bladder, and then I had to wait an hour. That's when the drugs came in. After oxycodone, fentanyl and zofran, I was in far less pain, but pretty loopy. Despite that, I do remember what the surgeon said. Which was-- until the path...

This week, six years ago, I had my last chemo. It seems like a lifetime ago. My check-ups have gone from every month, to every three months, and now to every six months. A big Woo Hoo. Also, just about this week two years ago was when I got hit by a bus in London. I went from not being able to walk or use my arms to where I am now-- walking with a cane and even driving a car. I'm back volunteering at the shelter and taking Pilates. A couple of weeks ago I starting getting pretty bad heartburn, which I had six years ago. It led me to a gastroenterologist who ultimately diagnosed my ovarian cancer. So when it returned, I made an appointment with a gynecological oncologist who scheduled a CT scan. The good news was there was no ovarian cancer recurrence. The not so good news, or should I say the up in the air news, was that the CT scan showed a mass in my bladder. A small mass-- only about a half inch-- but a mass nonetheless. Today I saw a urologicsl oncologist. I was hoping he ...

5000 if you count both feet. This weekend was my first trip to New York that wasn't to see the surgeon. It was to see friends and have fun. And walk. A lot. After a Covid hiatus, Golden Fest, a two-day music and dance festival, returned. It used to be in Brooklyn, in a grand old event hall that was unfortunately sold and demolished. It took the organizers a while to find a place that could house such a large event, and such a venue was found in Astoria, Queens. In some ways, this was a better location because it is in a neighborhood that is known for its Greek community. Turns out there are Albanians and others from close to the Balkans. We were supposed to fly up to New York, but the weather did not cooperate, so we took the train. That first day I walked around 1500 steps, surpassing my daily 1,000 step goal. Before the evening event, we planned to go to a popular Greek restaurant, though we did not realize how popular it was, so we went to a restaurant next door to it. I...

In more ways than one. I have continued to progress in physical therapy. My PT has gotten me outside to walk down a couple of declining sidewalks, and while at first I was pretty scared, I did quite well. In the beginning of our sessions we take a walk, and she no longer straps me into a gait belt. We are both pretty confident that even if I lose my balance a bit, I can keep going. Last week I went to Walking School. This is a session held several times a year, open to anyone with an above or below knee amputation, no matter what stage we are in with our progress. It is led by two amputees-- one above knee and one below. We divided into two groups based on our level of amputation. The below knee group was larger, and I am sure I was not alone in envying them. Having one's own knee makes it so much easier to walk. The session lasted about three hours and we did a number of exercises-- some fairly easy for me and others far more difficult. And while some of the exercises were he...

These last couple of weeks have had some serious highs and lows. A few days ago, quite unexpectedly, my friend Patty died in her sleep. She is someone I've known since college. After dinner, we'd go back to her room, get stoned, and watch the Patty Duke show. I'm sorry to say I introduced her to her first husband, but her second husband, Bob, is the kind of man she deserved. Smart, funny, talented. And while I do not really know her son, her daughter is a remarkable young woman, and she misses her mother desperately. They were best friends. A couple of weeks ago our geriatric cat, SuSu, passed away. She had been sick, but with medication she rallied and returned to her feisty self, so it was a shock to find her lifeless body in the morning. I hope she died in her sleep, because she was all alone. I know we gave her several very good years, but I wasn't ready for her to leave us. My journey with Leggy Mountbatten continues to progress. We were at a crowded event last ...

Years ago, a film was made that was a parody of the Beatles. The group was the Rutles, and they had a manager who had a prosthetic leg. His name was Leggy Mountbatten. And that is what I named my prosthesis. When I'm wearing it, it's my leg. It's part of me. But when I take it off, I usually have a little chat with Leggy, and we discuss our day-- how many steps I accomplished and how it got me through. And maybe a word of thanks. I plug in Leggy and lie him next to the bed to get him ready for tomorrow. Today, Jerry and I went to a craft show, and I walked thousands of steps. I was using my walker, which kind of acts as a shield to keep me safe. The show was fairly crowded, but if people saw me they cleared a path. When they didn't I patiently waited for room to walk. People, including me, were there to look at beautiful things. They weren't in a hurry and neither was I. I know I tend to get frustrated when I'm in Costco and someone is standing in the middle...