Escape from the Hotel California

Hi, stitching friends!

I hope 2020 begins better than 2019 ended. I had surgery Friday to have a rod put in my femur, and the surgeon broke my femur during surgery. If you’re anything like me, you’d rather not have details of why or how this happened, so I will spare you.

After three nights in the hospital, the physical therapist said I was not ready to go home. But the surgeon thought I should go home, so we compromised. Insurance said they’d pay for physical therapy rehab, so they loaded me into a van and hauled me to a place we now affectionately refer to as “The Hotel California.”

Back at the hospital, I had been told I would be in this place for a day or two, and my expectation was that I would learn skills like how to get up the step into my house, how to shower and dress myself, how to move easier with the walker. The Hotel California had other plans for me, though.

Remember these lyrics?

Last thing I remember, I was
Running for the door
I had to find the passage back to the place I was before
'Relax' said the night man,
'We are programmed to receive.
You can check out any time you like,
But you can never leave!'

When the intake nurse finished asking me if I still had my own teeth, who the president is, what year it is, and so on, they told me about the in-house hair salon and the weekly activities I could participate in. I said, “I’m just here for a day or two to learn some basic skills. I’m not staying long.” 

She chuckled. “You’ll be here at least a week or two, maybe longer.”

By the time she left the room, that inner voice we all have was screaming, “RUN!!!”

I looked at Shawn, said, “I do NOT want to be here. This is NOT what I signed up for.” So he went and found somebody and told them we were leaving. It was after 9:00 p.m. We hauled my disabled hiney into the car and drove straight home. It was a comedy of errors trying to figure out how to get up the step into the house with my walker, but we managed.

My bladder is my personal trainer. The need to “go” is a strong motivator. In the hospital, the distance between the bed and bathroom was very short. At home, the distance between the living room and my bathroom is a marathon in comparison. Walking with a walker while putting less than 25% of my weight on one leg is a workout! I’m feeling stronger every day, and my husband has been absolutely amazing. My mom has been burning up the miles traveling to be with me, and she has cooked for us, cleaned up and shared her knowledge of post-surgical physical therapy with me. (She has had both hips and knees replaced, so she is a pro.) My son has been a great gofer for us since he has his driver’s license now. And I have been so blessed with lots of emails, calls, texts and visits from dear family and friends.

My Favorite Christmas Gifts

With my current mobility status, I am not able to get photos right now to show you, but I have to brag on my friends Carol and RJ. They sent me the most beautiful, perfect stitched ornaments. I showed my son, and his reaction was, “Holy sh**, Mom. Wow.” For a 17-year-old, that’s pretty high praise. I’ll show you as soon as I am able.

And my favorite gift I gave was to my sweet husband. He loves hoodies and he loved this one. I asked him to make a “grumpy old man” face for the photo. Love it!

Until next time, friends, I hope 2020 brings you lots of love, plenty of reasons to smile and laugh, and peace and good health. And, as always, lots of time to stitch!

A Blue Christmas

Hi, stitching friends!

Here we are, Christmas Eve Eve, and I am writing this with a heavy heart. We came home from our awesome, amazing, wonderful-beyond-belief vacation on the Oregon Coast, and I had routine scans Monday morning once we were back home.

Good news and bad news. The good news is that my cancer is still in the bone. That's REALLY good news. The bad news is that it has progressed. The last few days have been a flurry of doctor appointments and planning. I'm having surgery Friday to have a titanium rod inserted in my femur to stabilize it and keep it from breaking. After that, we'll be looking at several weeks of radiation to various parts of my body to kill the cancer and reduce pain.

After that, I don't know. Lots of fighting with insurance, probably. Maybe more chemo. One day at a time.

So. Much. Fun.

We've decided it's wise to stay close to home this next year, so we cancelled our 2020 Ireland/Scotland trip. But we are not sad. Shawn and I can have fun anywhere, doing just about anything together. Grocery shopping can be an adventure.

And, I'm so thankful that I have cross stitch as a hobby. I can't count the number of life challenges that stitching has helped me through. It keeps me centered. And I will have plenty of excuses to stay off my feet in the near future.

I would appreciate your prayers, though. Pray for strength, pray for healing, pray for wisdom and skill in my doctors.

In the meantime, we will have a wonderful Christmas. My mom is here with us, and with any luck, a family friend will be able to join us as well.

"Blue Christmas House," freebie from Live to Stitch

Blue Christmas House Freebie

My Christmas gift to you is a little ornament I designed called "Blue Christmas House." The design is based on a painting by Charles Wysocki called "Cape Cod Christmas." Click here for a PDF of "Blue Christmas House."

I owe the New England charm to Mr. Wysocki, though. I just adore his work. Here is the original painting:

I made some changes to make the ornament my own, but the spirit of the house is there. I hope you enjoy it!

Sweet Seventeen

My son turned 17 last week! I can hardly believe it. He is growing up to be such a kind, thoughtful young man, and I couldn't be prouder.

I asked him what kind of cake he would like for his birthday, and he said red velvet cheesecake. I made a red velvet cheesecake cake, and wow.... let me tell you, it was amaaaaaazing. See that picture above? That's MY cake! It turned out better than I expected, and my son was so thrilled. I have not been eating sugar since August, but I made an exception and had a piece of this. It was worth the calories. Click here for the recipe.

With that, I'll sign off for now. It may be a while before I post again, as life is about to get a lot more complicated for me. I hope you all have a wonderful Christmas and an amazing 2020!

Scanxiety and a BAP finish

Hi, stitching friends!

Oh.... where to begin?

At the end of June, I had routine scans for my metastatic breast cancer. Just checking in, making sure treatment is working. No big deal (hopefully). I felt fine, so I had no cause to worry. But I worry anyway.

It's called "scanxiety" (scans + anxiety = scanxiety).

After two years of good news, this one hit me like a punch in the gut. Some new "spots" showed up in my spine, but the tricky thing with bone mets is that we can't tell from scans whether they are active tumors or scar tissue (from dead tumors). My doctor said it could also be something called "treatment flareup," where tissue surrounding a dying tumor becomes inflamed.

So, new tumor growth = bad. That means my treatment is no longer working. But, treatment flareup = good. That means treatment is working.

The only way to tell is to wait, see how I feel until my next appointment, and repeat scans to see if the spots are bigger.

Fun!

Enter a Vacation and Whole30

For the longest time, I just didn't know what to say. So I didn't say anything. I've been absent from my blog and from many of yours, and for that I am so sorry. Thank you to my friends who have sent me beautiful cards and emails checking in on me. I love you for it.

At the beginning of August, I decided to make a drastic change to my diet. Did I want to lose weight? Uh... yeah. (Who doesn't relish the thought of clothes fitting better?) But my main motivation was to do everything I could to affect the outcome of my situation. If changing the way I eat can extend my life at all, it's worth giving up some goodies.

I really don't think I can cure a disease with no cure by eating better, but if I can feel better and possibly increase the number of my "good" days, then heck yeah!

Whole30 (www.whole30.com) is very similar to the Paleo diet. Lots and lots of vegetables, a little fruit, protein and healthy fats. No dairy, grains, legumes or unhealthy fats. It was a shock at first trying to get used to it, but now that my Whole30 has ended and the "training wheels" are off, I have very few cravings for sugar and junk food. My son keeps trying to get me to celebrate completing the Whole30 by going out for cookies and ice cream, and I just don't want them.

And...my clothes are fitting a lot better.

I see my doctor again next week, and I can honestly say I feel so much better in terms of everyday well-being, and I still don't have any pain where these new spots showed up in scans. I'm looking forward to seeing what my labs say about my health.

A BAP Finish

What is a BAP? My friend Arlene at Nanaland shared the phrase with me, and it stands for "Big Ass Project"! Don't you love it?

I finally finished Halloween at Hawk Run Hollow! Woot woot! I started it the third week of January 2019, and finished just after midnight on August 29, 2019. My goal was to have it done by the end of August so the framer would have time to frame it in time for October. I'm taking it there after the long weekend is over and I know it's going to cost a fortune, but it's worth it. I'm not tackling this one myself.

Last time I wrote, I was about half done with block 9. Here it is, all finished.

I love the long-stitched wraps of the mummy.

The green diamond pattern in the background stitched up very quickly, even though it may look like a lot of work.

Here is block 10. Lots of scary eyes and swampy creatures!

Rawrrr...... Scary alligator, or swamp monster. Poor frog!

Block 11 completed. I love the designers' creativity, how the steam from the locomotive becomes ghosts.

This way to the Hollow......

And finally, block 12 completed.

That was a LOT of DMC 829. I ran out twice! The skeleton teeth are stitched over one.

The BIG Reveal

....is coming later. I want to show you the whole thing after it's framed. Sorry, friends, but you're going to have to wait.

Now that it's finished, I feel so free to work on anything I want. I have a lot of work to do on the SAL with Mary and RJ at Stitching Friends Forever, and I want to stitch some Christmas ornaments. But you know what's calling my name? The Shores of Hawk Run Hollow. Call me crazy.

Halloween at Hawk Run Hollow Giveaway

To celebrate finishing Halloween at HRH, I'd like to offer the chart to one of you. It was so much fun to stitch, and I would love to see it go to someone who wants to stitch it and who might also pass it along to a friend afterwards. To save on postage, I would like to limit the chance to win to a USA-based stitcher.

If you would like to win the chart, please be a sidebar follower and leave a comment answering this question: What was your favorite Halloween costume or memory?

Thanks for reading! I have more in the works to show you, but I'll save those projects for another time. Thinking of all of you, especially those of you in the south facing Hurricane Dorian. Be safe.

Pinktober

A couple of years ago I had dinner with my friend Alicia and her daughter, Steff. It was October. Steff, a senior in high school, was just finishing her final year of school, but just barely. She had missed months of school while she underwent surgery, chemo and radiation for a brain tumor.

There was a sign on our table that said "October: Breast Cancer Awareness Month! FREE appetizer if you donate to breast cancer awareness!"

Awkward.

We talked about how it's hard for someone struggling with NOT breast cancer to wade through the sea of pink in October. Steff said she felt invisible, that her cancer was somehow less important.

I know some of you can relate.

Let me just say this now. You do matter. You are not invisible.

And I am annoyed by Pinktober.

As a "former" breast cancer survivor, now that I have metastatic disease (cancer that has spread beyond the breast to other tissues), I'm not sure what to call myself now. I'm not technically a survivor (unless they figure out a cure...), but I'm not dead, either. I'm very much alive, doing the best I can on the drugs that are available to me, hoping beyond hope that they come up with new treatments that will keep me alive long enough for someone to find a cure.

Those of us with metastatic disease refer to October as "Pinktober." For us, breast cancer is not something we've "beaten." Some of us have been asked to leave breast-cancer support groups because we scare the other people there (seriously - I'm not making this up). And the statistics about breast cancer are woefully misleading. Only those who were diagnosed initially with stage IV (metastatic) breast cancer are counted as metastatic. (So the number of "successfully treated" patients is artificially inflated.)

What does this mean? I was first diagnosed in 2005 with early-stage breast cancer and I completed treatment, so therefore I am counted as "successfully treated." My breast cancer came back years later (I was diagnosed with metastatic disease in 2013). Only when I die from this disease (and I will, since metastatic breast cancer has a 0% survival rate), will I be counted among the metastatic statistics.

And why is this important? From the Metastatic Breast Cancer Network (MBCN) website:

"According to the Metastatic Breast Cancer Alliance’s Landscape Analysis, which analyzed research grants from the major cancer research-funding agencies around the world, research funding for metastatic breast cancer accounts for only 7% of the total breast cancer research investment. Without an ACCURATE count of the number people currently living with Stage IV breast cancer, that number is unlikely to change."

Each Pinktober, my thoughts turn to the friends I've met because of this disease, and lost to this disease - Carey, Trina, Dani. And I think of friends who are battling cancer - not just breast cancer - Steff, George, Jenny and Scott, Jo, Judy, Sheila and Sheila, Walt. You are NOT invisible. You matter.

People have said to me over the years that they admire my strength and positivity. If I am strong, it's because I had no other choice. If I am positive, it's because for me, that was my only option. Being negative isn't going to help! But choosing to hope... that's something.

If you would like to stitch my "I am strong" sentiment (I made mine into a magnet), you can get the pattern here. You don't have to stitch the ribbon in pink. I've included a small chart with some ribbon colors for other types of cancer.