Mixed Nuts With a Seasoning of Marrow

Tonight I've been gimping about my house like a geriatric hip replacement patient. Now I can fully appreciate having gone through my four previous bone marrow biopsies in The Big House where I could laze about in bed and oxycodone was on tap. The biopsy went well; the doc performing it was actually a hemo-oncologist fellow and the pathologist observed and assisted. That's the double edged sword of being treated at a teaching hospital; there are lots of fresh minds on your case, but you are also something of a guinea pig. The fellow performed the biopsy fine, yet I couldn't shake the feeling that he was seriously digging for treasure in my pelvic bone. Plus he reiterated the findings of the two previous pathologists who did my other biopsies: I have bones of stone.

The biopsy results will be ready for my appointment on Friday. Here's hoping for good news.

Speaking of good news, my white counts are up. Other counts are holding firm. Of course, I forgot to ask whether or not this takes me out of neutropenic precautionary zone. A viewing of Iron Man is still in my near future, even if I have to wear my sexy mask and cover the seat in a surgical drape.

Other random news from down Amos Way:

My relationship with Little A has been firmly (and perhaps even stronger than before) reestablished. Yesterday, for the first time since my being home, he called specifically for "Mommy" after his nap. We spend lots of time snuggling and hugging and wrestling, and actually, he's gotten pretty lovey and cuddly lately. It's awesome.

He has also become obsessed with watching the online trailers for both Kung Fu Panda and Wall*E. Based on release dates, it looks like Clan Amos will have to betray their fierce Pixar loyalties and introduce Little A to the movie theater experience with a Dreamworks flick. Oh well. He'll love them both, of that I am certain. He can already sing the first few bars of "Kung Fu Fighting" complete with the "da da da da duh duh duh" part and can identify both Wall*E and his robotic girlfriend Eve.

I can't believe I've not posted this sooner, but my West Coast blogger buddy Girl With the Curious Hair is working with Team in Training, raising funds and preparing to run a half marathon in my honor this October. Mosey on over to her fundraising page and toss her some coin. The Leukemia and Lymphoma Society does some awesome work for folks like me and their families, acting as a support system and an advocate for people who are battling blood cancers. Hopefully, this time next year I will have successfully kicked leukemia's butt and will be training for my own race.

Speaking of events in my honor, the blood drive was apparently a success. Forty-four people showed up to donate, and thirty-eight were able. I only wish I could have been there to personally thank every single donor or potential donor. That's thirty-eight lives saved. Kick Ass.

It appears that the esteemed Senator Teddy Kennedy and I are rowing in the same boat. I'd love to send him a card saying welcome to The Cancer and just suck it up because you've had a long life, outliving your more esteemed brothers, and even managing to dodge that whole Chappaquiddick business.

What the hell was up with the House season finale? Could it be any more Debbie Downer? And why did it have to air on the same day I get a rotten prognosis concerning my particularly nasty brand of Stupid Zombie Leukemia? And my anniversary? Jeezie-peezie people. Way to stick it in and break it off.

I really need to post a baldness picture soon because I am very proud of my naked skull. It's quite lovely.

Beginning the Battle Against My Stupid Cells

Prepare for a brief post, as I am eagerly awaiting my Ambien to start kicking in very soon.  Thanks to my smacktacular mom-in-law, I have a shiny iBook on my lap.  As long as I feel up to it, I'll be logging onto the interwebs and making my presence known.

Gratitude is pouring out of my soul for all the well wishes you've been posting here and on The Mister's blog.  You will never know how much the support you send us through the circuitry uplifts and envelopes us with the love of strangers with generous hearts.

I'm a wee bit sore from the installation of my Hickman line, but the percoset is taking some of the edge off.  Even though I'm sore and slightly immobile right now, I appreciate the fact that I am no longer a marionette.  The Hickman line is inserted beneath the skin right under my neck, and will allow not only the infusion of chemo, but also the withdraw of blood when they need it.  No more sticks and pokes!

This morning I had bone marrow biopsy Round Two, infinitely more pleasant than Round One.  Dr. Williams rocked my world by not only doping me with some happy juice, but he numbed me down to the bone.  I hardly felt a thing.  Now, on the other hand, my hip's feeling pretty rotten and sore.  But at least I didn't have to go through that previous nightmare where I felt like someone reached in a yanked on my pelvis bone.

Well, I've gabbed long enough.  I'm starting to get carried away to Sleepy  Town.  If any of y'all out there are cancer survivors or have experience with this hellish road I'll be traveling and have any advice you'd like to generously pass along, please e-mail me.  Also, feel free to e-mail me for my room number if you want to send me silly or mushy cards.  No flowers, though. Sniff, sniff.  

Love you guys.  Seriously.  We are family.

This Sucks

Hey guys, quick update. I finally got free of my umbilical cord of saline long enough to type a bit on the computer here in my room. I'd like to get some valuable crappy cable TV viewing in before the Ambien kicks in, so this will be brief.

I won't go into too much detail about my experiences 'cause that would just rain on The Mister's parade over at his blog. He's doing a bang up job detailing my medical experiences over the past few months.

Here's the short of it: I'm severely anemic, more than likely aplastic anemia. The docs are searching for a solution to my severely low blood counts-which likely caused all the heart problems I've been having. Since I've been in the hospital, I've been pumped with four units of blood, bringing my counts up slightly, but not to the point where the docs feel good about discharging me.

Today I had a bone marrow biopsy . This was TEH BIG SUCK. I had a pathologist (who bore a striking resemblance to Oliver Platt) basically bore a hole in my hip and jam some big ass needle into my bone to pluck out some marrow. Fucking A that hurt. Felt like someone reaching into my body and yanking really hard on my hipbone. Then kicking me really hard in the ass a few times.

Y'all are all smart people; guess you can figure out the gist of the situation when bone marrow becomes involved.

There's all sorts of tales to tell about my experiences thus far, but I'm pooped from sitting on my ass all day on a hospital bed. At least I'm out of the hospital gown and into my own pj's.

From the bottom of my blood-deprived heart, I want to thank all of my interweb friends for their good wishes and prayers and love. I swear, when I get to the other side of this, I am going to save my pennies for a trip 'round the world to give each one of you a big ole' hug and a baked good.

Thanks to my Richmond friends who have been calling, stopping by, bringing me magazines and YUM doughnuts. I've got some of the bestest buds a gal could ask for.

Once all the news that is fit to print comes to light, I will try my darnedest to blog about it soon-ish.

Over and out from St. Mary's Hospital, room 618

My First Tale

It's not nearly as long and full of turns as the mouse's tale, but it resides at Blog Me A Tale. Go read it. Tell me what you think.

And I swear all subsequent lengthy ramblings posted there will not necessarily involve my kid, despite his being insanely good subject material. Occasionally, I do need to remind myself that there's more to Manda than the Fruit of Her Loom.

Mix Tape Monday: Long Distance Requests and Dedications

First, thanks to everyone who expressed their concern regarding my crappy ticker. I have my good days and bad days. As long as I relax and get plenty of sleep (Both of which are contrary to my nature.) I seem to feel okay. Bright and early on March 17th I will report for my series of wacko tests, so I'll be celebrating the Feast of St. Patrick by running with some electrodes strapped to my chest. I'll be sure and wear my Guinness shirt for good luck.

I've decided to add a regular feature to my blog. I was doing pretty well with Five for Friday, and then I guess my brain ran out of steam. Maybe it'll pop back up now and again, however I'd like to dedicate Mondays to making mix (blog)tapes for my friends. Seeing as I like being all secretive and shit (Something which is contrary to the nature of blogging.), I won't name names. I have no clue who of my friends and acquaintances have stumbled upon my on-line babbling, so I'll keep things purposely vague. It's more fun that way.

And please don't expect a lot of indie or obscure stuff. My taste in music runs through a tributary just a hair off of the mainstream. I had a roommate in college who worshiped Pavement, Dinosaur Jr., and Sebadoh, and I liked that shit about as much as I liked the fact that she once knocked over a giant, butt-filled ashtray all over our carpet and never bothered to clean it up.

This Monday I'll be dedicating songs to my readers/commenters/fellow bloggers. Some of these songs have historical relevance to our friendship. The others... well, hit up iTunes and figure it out on your own.

And if I've left anyone out, let me know so I can put another dime in the jukebox for ya, baby.

Husband: "Superman" R.E.M.
Alex: "Ladykiller" Lush
Boo: "Fire With Fire" The Goxxip
Girl with Curious Hair: "Buenos Aires" from Evita
Jamie: "Cherry Bomb" The Runaways
Kim: "Friday I'm in Love" The Cure
Kolby: "Intergalactic" Beastie Boys
Mariah: "Sugar Magnolia" The Grateful Dead
Miss V: "Sea Lion Woman" Feist
Evie: "Human Behavior" Bjork
TK: "Sunday Morning Coming Down" Johnny Cash
Vermillion: "Got to Give it Up (Part 1)" Marvin Gaye
P'Nut: "I Don't Feel Like Dancin'" Scissor Sisters
Neal: "Battle of Who Could Care Less" Ben Folds Five
Stacy (AKA Lightlysalted): "Love Me or Hate Me" Lady Sovereign

Like Bullets in a Revolver

Imitation is the greatest form of flattery, right? Then I give props to Miz Jamie as I rip off her latest blog post.

Can you describe the entirety of your life in six words? Such is the question posed by the new book, Not Quite What I Was Planning: Six Word Memoirs by Writers Famous and Obscure.

After providing several of her own examples, Jamie presented the tiny memoir challenge to the readers of her blog, and here's what Yours Truly cooked up:

Late bloomer finally flowers, quickly wilts.

Not bad, huh? Especially considering poetry was never my forte; I couldn't get brevity right, not to mention rhyme and meter. And I hate, hated haiku.

So what's your life in six words?

Six for Sunday: Cool Stuff in Toddlertainment

1. Steve Martin wrote a children's book! How awesome is that? This begs the question, at what age would it be appropriate to introduce Little A to the comic genius that is The Jerk, Dirty Rotten Scoundrels, or Bowfinger?

2. I like to peruse the Easy Reader section of the Children's Library while Little A does some post-story time socializing. I discovered amongst the more generic books about animals, counting, and ABC's are some books with fairly specialized subject matter ranging from deaf siblings, trailer living, divorce, as well indentured servants, mom losing her job, and George Washington's farm animals. If you're ever looking for some amusement and a dash of enlightenment, browse children's literature. There's so much more out there than just Curious George and Carl the babysitting Rottweiler.

3. More proof of the awesomeness that is Pixar: One of Pixar's main character designers is William "Bud" Luckey , the creator of Woody from Toy Story and the short film Boundin'. Back in the day, Bud wrote and animated a ton of shorts for Sesame Street including The Alligator King, a personal favorite. Remember the Alligator King and his seven sons? Here's a refresher:


4. And speaking of Pixar, my mom and I have decided that this summer Little A will be old enough to have and hopefully enjoy his first real cinematic experience. Considering his love of all things Cars and mechanical, I think Pixar's latest offering will be perfect.


5. Yesterday, Clan Amos visited a new furniture consignment store on Lakeside Ave. where we stumbled up a wooden train set and big train table for $150. It's sturdy and in near pristine condition. Considering that some tables alone are $150 and this particular set retails for over $200, I think we got a sweet bargain. While mom and dad have been building elaborate train track configurations, Little A enjoys finding new and exciting ways to inflict disasters about our miniature town and bring the whole set up crashing down.

6. This has absolutely nothing to do with Toddlertainment, but fellow blogger Girl With the Curious Hair, sent me a link to this article. Looks like those nutty Virtue folks have got some stiff competition in the Holy Body Products market.

A critical eye

My reading preferences are varied, but I tend to favor either humorous meditations on parenting or horror fiction (Especially those that aid in my surviving the undead apocalypse). So naturally, I was a little skeptical about my appropriateness when a fellow blogger reached out to me for a review of her book, Steve the Penguin. However, I accepted the challenge having never in my life written a review of a book, especially not one written by someone I was familiar with.

I have the utmost respect for anyone who publishes their writings for all the world to read. Aside from a few plays and the bibble-babblings I do on this blog, I'm a horrible coward and don't let anyone read the crap I write. Hats off to Mahlena for having the chutzpah to publish a book.

Of course, being me, I've procrastinated on the project, and it's not for a lack of desire to write the review. I just worry about putting out a poor product, so I stall. Finally I got off my duff and churned out a blurb for Amazon:

Ever since Bridget Jones cracked open a diary and put pen to paper, there have been no dearth of literary singleton females searching for One True Love, a great career, and a wicked pair of shoes. In her debut novel Steve the Penguin, Mahlena-Rae Johnson doesn't reinvent the formula but rather creates an original heroine within the Single Gal genre. Her Bianca is opinionated, smart, and compassionate but also faces realistic obstacles: a floundering love life, self-doubt, body issues, a nagging family, and drama-prone friends. She's certainly more relatable, a Betty Suarez rather than a Carrie Bradshaw.

Wander on over to the Amazon listing for the rest of my musings on the book, but if you want your hands on my copy, back off! Order one for yourself, ya cheap bahstahrd.