They say hindsight's 20/20. One of the most common questions I get asked after people learn of my cancer is if, looking back, there were signs I missed? Are there things that, in hindsight, should have tipped me off that something was wrong?
I finally figured out that what people are really asking is, Tell me why you got cancer, so I can compare your life to mine, and feel safe again.
I'm not saying people are self-centred & only concerned about themselves. Not at all! On the contrary, I think this is a perfectly natural coping method that we all engage in. I know I've done the same thing many times. We hear about some horrible natural disaster that killed hundreds of people, and we think, well, I don't live somewhere where tornadoes/floods/earthquakes/etc. happen semi-regularly, so that couldn't happen to me. We hear about a fatal car accident, and we think, well, I wouldn't have been driving that fast under those conditions, so that couldn't happen to me. We hear about someone being diagnosed with lung cancer, and we feel sorry for them, but deep down we're consoled by the fact that they've been a heavy smoker for fifty years. Couldn't happen to me.
It's all part of the very human need to feel in control of our lives. Our method of coping when we come face-to-face with circumstances beyond human control is to find an explanation, a reason, a way we're different, a way it couldn't happen to us, so we can feel safe again.
Which is why a lot of folks are really struggling to accept what's happening to me. They look at me and say, she's only 32. Reasonably healthy, never smoked, seldom drinks. No family history of stomach cancer. Lived her whole life in Canada, other than a few brief trips to nice touristy places. Always worked white-collar jobs in nice offices (no blue-collar exposures to toxins). There seams to be no reason for me to suddenly have stage IV cancer. But I do. And if it can happen to me, it could happen to anybody. Which scares the pants off people. We all want things to happen for a reason, because if there's a reason, a cause, we can avoid said cause & stay safe. We can protect ourselves & those we love.
So people want to hear about my earliest symptoms. How was my cancer found? My next post is another very long one I've been working on for quite a while, that will detail the journey from when I first started to experience abdominal pain to the final diagnosis of stage IV stomach cancer (about a month, all told). But here I'll go over the more "ancient" history.
Because I do have a history of stomach problems. For most of my adult life, I suffered from sudden bouts of diarrhea. I first remember noticing it in my early years of university, so in my late teens. At first it mostly occurred when my dad would take me out for a nice dinner... I joked that I was allergic to "real food", that my body had grown accustomed to living solely on junk.
And it *was* junk. I was never much of a cook, and more or less lived on the "5 Cs": Chips, Candy, Chocolate, & Coca-Cola. My stomach problems would wax & wane & wax again. The problem would be practically non-existent for months at a time. Sometimes it was only a minor inconvenience. And sometimes, it would get so bad I would have to plan my whole life around the ever-present possibility that I would suddenly, urgently need a washroom.
I did ask various doctors over the years if there was anything to be done. They would ask me a few questions, and then say it sounded like I had a "nervous stomach". Their advice was, if I noticed any particular foods that didn't agree with me, avoid them. No shit, Sherlock! None of the doctors ever seemed concerned, or suggested that my troubles could be a sign of something serious.
I did try various cures & treatments over the years. For a time it seemed like red meat (steak in particular) was causing my symptoms, so I stopped eating that for a few years, eventually adding it back but only in small portions. I also tried various bowel cleanses and digestive herbs. Most seemed to help a little, or for a little while, but nothing ever got rid of the problem completely.
Of course I googled & read books, about IBS (Irritable Bowel Syndrome) and similar conditions, but none of them seemed a really strong match to my own symptoms. I do remember one article that talked about "bathroom mapping", which hit home in a big way. Bathroom Mapping is a term for when the very first thing you notice about any new place you visit is where the washroom is. This was something that I'd done for so long it was second nature; until I saw it named, it never occurred to me that everyone doesn't do this. Every store I shop at, I can tell you where their washroom is, and how open they are to letting customers use it. I can still tell you the same about most of Ottawa, a city I haven't set foot in for seven years now. That's how deep the need & knowledge goes.
My symptoms got really, really bad last summer & fall (of 2010). Near-catastrophic incidents during trips to Calgary & Vancouver made it clear that something *had* to change, that I couldn't live like this anymore. The suddenness of the diarrhea was at this point so bad that I was basically a hostage: Sterling & I couldn't even go out for a simple dinner & a movie. The only method I had to cope with my symptoms was to just not eat for several hours before I had plans. I often wished that not eating for the rest of my life was a viable option.
Finally, desperate, I took the recommendation of several coworkers and went to see a naturopath. At the end of my very first appointment, he told me he could help me. I cried, I was so relieved & happy. He ordered an ALCAT blood test, which tests for food sensitivities (not allergies). When the report came back in mid-December, it showed that I was highly sensitive to two foods: cottonseed oil (used in lots of potato chips & fast food) and cane sugar. All that junk I'd been living on for all those years was what was making me sick. I was also moderately sensitive to an additional ten foods, ranging from gluten to carrots to strawberries to salmon.
The recommended treatment for food sensitivities was to cut out all highly & moderately sensitive foods for 3-6 months, and then gradually try and reintroduce them into your diet. I made this drastic diet change right before Christmas 2010... and by the time I came back to work after the Christmas/New Year break, a scant three weeks later, I'd lost 20 pounds. I continued to lose weight until my final weight loss currently sits around 40 pounds. As nice as the weight loss was, even more exciting was that it did clear up my digestive problems. No more embarrassing mad dashes to the bathroom! I felt like I'd gotten my life back.
Then, the pain started. And I was diagnosed with cancer.
After my cancer diagnosis, I explained this history of stomach problems to several of my doctors. I was so scared. Scared that a decade of stomach problems I'd mostly ignored had been signs of the cancer, and if only I'd taken them more seriously, my cancer would have been found before it spread. Or at the very least, I thought, maybe my sudden, drastic diet change had something to do with the cancer. Given the timing, it seemed unlikely to all be just a coincidence.
But the doctors all told me, that even with the benefit of hindsight, if they'd seen me with these original stomach symptoms, they would have also thought food sensitivities, or IBS, or a similar disorder, but not cancer. None of them seemed to think my old stomach problems were related to the cancer at all. And once the oncologist got involved, and said he estimated the cancer started about a year ago, I was able to think back a year and rack my brain trying to find something that changed around that time. I couldn't think of anything.
The only symptom the doctors agreed might have been an early warning sign was how quickly I lost weight last Christmas. But I couldn't even feel bad about missing that one, because if you had seen the amount of candy, deep-fried food, and pop I'd been consuming & suddenly cut out cold-turkey, the weight loss didn't seem that unreasonable. Also, everyone around me agreed that it seemed like a healthy weight loss. I didn't look sickly; on the contrary, I looked so good it inspired several people in my life to diet/exercise more.
No matter how I look at it, there just wasn't much for signs that cancer was growing inside me. I was mostly relieved to learn that I hadn't "caused" this, that I didn't have to add guilt to an already heaping emotional plate. But I was also a little disappointed. Part of me was, like everyone else, hoping for a reason and searching for an explanation. But there just doesn't seem to be an easy answer in this case. Life isn't fair, or logical. Sometimes good things happen to bad people, and bad things happen to good people. Some people win the lottery, and some get cancer for no apparent reason.
Hindsight can't give me a reason for why this is happening to me, but I still believe with all my heart that there *is* a reason. And since hindsight has failed, the key to finding that reason must be foresight. I haven't found my reason, my explanation yet, though I have caught a few glimpses of it, including this one in the form of a video posted on my FaceBook wall by m'colleague Brodie:
Gods & Goddesses, what a ridiculously long post this has become! And I still don't really know what I've been trying to say. I guess I'll end with an Irish Blessing:
"May you have the hindsight to know where you've been,
The foresight to know where you are going,
And the insight to know when you have gone too far."
23 July 2011
21 July 2011
Nana korobi, ya oki
My painting arrived today!
Shortly after I was hospitalized, my colleagues (with the boss's blessing) dropped off a laptop, on the strict condition that I use it to play on the internet and keep in touch with folks via FaceBook & email, and NOT to do any work.
Sterling & I were browsing about, and I was showing him an artist's website, which led to checking out her current eBay auctions. Soniei (@Soniei on Twitter, where I first "met" her) is both an amazing artist and a sweet, interesting person whose art I have long loved & wanted to buy... once we were out of debt, once I found the perfect piece that really spoke to me, once the moon & planets aligned, etc. etc. you get the idea.
While looking at Soniei's auction listings for her original paintings (she also sells prints through her own website), I quickly clicked on (and just as quickly clicked away from) this painting:
I like all of Soniei's work, but she paints in several different styles, and this was frankly not one of my favourites. But Sterling made the comment, it's rolling hills. And then I had to click back to see what he was talking about. And once he pointed it out, I could see it, the hills. But still... and then I saw the translation of the Japanese phrase painted on it:
Nana korobi, ya oki
(Fall down seven times, get up eight times)
All of Soniei's work incorporates Japanese characters, sometimes just a single word, and sometimes a saying/proverb, like this one.
This was only a couple days after my cancer diagnosis, and this saying really spoke to me, and to my determination to kick this cancer's ass, no matter the odds against me.
So I put in a bid. And won! My painting arrived today, and I have been admiring it. The style grows on me more & more the longer I look at it. And I'm very happy to have such a fabulous "encouragement to persevere" hanging on my wall, reminding me every day. Best $79 I ever spent.
If you would like a real treat, check out more of Soniei's work on her website: Soniei.com
Shortly after I was hospitalized, my colleagues (with the boss's blessing) dropped off a laptop, on the strict condition that I use it to play on the internet and keep in touch with folks via FaceBook & email, and NOT to do any work.
Sterling & I were browsing about, and I was showing him an artist's website, which led to checking out her current eBay auctions. Soniei (@Soniei on Twitter, where I first "met" her) is both an amazing artist and a sweet, interesting person whose art I have long loved & wanted to buy... once we were out of debt, once I found the perfect piece that really spoke to me, once the moon & planets aligned, etc. etc. you get the idea.
While looking at Soniei's auction listings for her original paintings (she also sells prints through her own website), I quickly clicked on (and just as quickly clicked away from) this painting:
I like all of Soniei's work, but she paints in several different styles, and this was frankly not one of my favourites. But Sterling made the comment, it's rolling hills. And then I had to click back to see what he was talking about. And once he pointed it out, I could see it, the hills. But still... and then I saw the translation of the Japanese phrase painted on it:
Nana korobi, ya oki
(Fall down seven times, get up eight times)
All of Soniei's work incorporates Japanese characters, sometimes just a single word, and sometimes a saying/proverb, like this one.
This was only a couple days after my cancer diagnosis, and this saying really spoke to me, and to my determination to kick this cancer's ass, no matter the odds against me.
So I put in a bid. And won! My painting arrived today, and I have been admiring it. The style grows on me more & more the longer I look at it. And I'm very happy to have such a fabulous "encouragement to persevere" hanging on my wall, reminding me every day. Best $79 I ever spent.
If you would like a real treat, check out more of Soniei's work on her website: Soniei.com
14 July 2011
Cataclysm
I've been working on several lengthy blog posts the last couple weeks, but can't seem to bring myself to push the "Publish Post" button on any of them.
My brain keeps giving me more rules and higher standards the posts have to meet before sharing them. I HAVE to tell my whole story in proper chronological order, I MUST include every last detail and be completely accurate, and as with all my writing, it goes without saying that everything about them must be ABSOLUTELY 110% COMPLETELY FUCKING PERFECT before I even THINK about letting anyone else read them. But I'm tired and it's way past time to get started with this already, so I've benched all those long posts to be completed "soon", and decided to start off a little simpler...
In the final days of May 2011, I started having abdominal pain. It was kinda weird, and after three nights of sleeping with my heating pad, I remember saying to myself, this is not normal. Something is Wrong.
Which cued a month of doctors and medical tests. I told myself that on the bright side, at least this was bringing me lots of new experiences, something I value. Within a month, I got to try for the first time: (non-dental) x-rays, an enema, a CT scan, ultrasounds, morphine, overnight hospitalization, Dilaudid, laparoscopic surgery, surgical staples, a catheter, a gastroscopy, a partial colonoscopy, and finally, chemotherapy.
In the first hours of Tuesday, 28th June 2011, my boyfriend took me to the emergency room where I was admitted, a normally healthy 32 year old woman who'd spent a month with excruciating abdominal pain, whose test results had all been normal, other than slight anemia and a few abnormalities on the CT scan, which could be anything.
Wednesday afternoon, 6th July 2011. Eight and a half days later, I was released from hospital with a diagnosis of Stage IV stomach cancer that had spread to my omentum, stomach lymph nodes, and possibly the outside of my intestines. It was already day 2 of cycle 1 of my chemotherapy.
Catacylsm: noun. "Any violent upheaval." Yup.
So that's what I've been trying to blog about. Hopefully now that I've started I'll be able to fill in the gaps. I have a lot to say about this, and I'm probably starting to bore my many visitors, so better to write it down and send it off into the blogosphere.
As things worked out, I was alone when the surgeon came in and told me he'd found cancer. He left to call my parents, and I had about 10-15 minutes of complete panic. No-no-no. Why me?! I'm going to die! That sort of thing. And then I became strangely calm. I was imagining driving down the freeway at 110, whizzing by an exit without even thinking about it, because it's so obviously not mine. I suddenly simply knew that even though this cancer thing was going to turn my life upside down and change everything in a million ways I couldn't even begin to anticipate, that I was going to come through it triumphant and much much stronger, a better person in every way. This does not mark the beginning of the end - only the end of the beginning.
Time to put on my big girl panties & deal with it.
My brain keeps giving me more rules and higher standards the posts have to meet before sharing them. I HAVE to tell my whole story in proper chronological order, I MUST include every last detail and be completely accurate, and as with all my writing, it goes without saying that everything about them must be ABSOLUTELY 110% COMPLETELY FUCKING PERFECT before I even THINK about letting anyone else read them. But I'm tired and it's way past time to get started with this already, so I've benched all those long posts to be completed "soon", and decided to start off a little simpler...
In the final days of May 2011, I started having abdominal pain. It was kinda weird, and after three nights of sleeping with my heating pad, I remember saying to myself, this is not normal. Something is Wrong.
Which cued a month of doctors and medical tests. I told myself that on the bright side, at least this was bringing me lots of new experiences, something I value. Within a month, I got to try for the first time: (non-dental) x-rays, an enema, a CT scan, ultrasounds, morphine, overnight hospitalization, Dilaudid, laparoscopic surgery, surgical staples, a catheter, a gastroscopy, a partial colonoscopy, and finally, chemotherapy.
In the first hours of Tuesday, 28th June 2011, my boyfriend took me to the emergency room where I was admitted, a normally healthy 32 year old woman who'd spent a month with excruciating abdominal pain, whose test results had all been normal, other than slight anemia and a few abnormalities on the CT scan, which could be anything.
Wednesday afternoon, 6th July 2011. Eight and a half days later, I was released from hospital with a diagnosis of Stage IV stomach cancer that had spread to my omentum, stomach lymph nodes, and possibly the outside of my intestines. It was already day 2 of cycle 1 of my chemotherapy.
Catacylsm: noun. "Any violent upheaval." Yup.
So that's what I've been trying to blog about. Hopefully now that I've started I'll be able to fill in the gaps. I have a lot to say about this, and I'm probably starting to bore my many visitors, so better to write it down and send it off into the blogosphere.
As things worked out, I was alone when the surgeon came in and told me he'd found cancer. He left to call my parents, and I had about 10-15 minutes of complete panic. No-no-no. Why me?! I'm going to die! That sort of thing. And then I became strangely calm. I was imagining driving down the freeway at 110, whizzing by an exit without even thinking about it, because it's so obviously not mine. I suddenly simply knew that even though this cancer thing was going to turn my life upside down and change everything in a million ways I couldn't even begin to anticipate, that I was going to come through it triumphant and much much stronger, a better person in every way. This does not mark the beginning of the end - only the end of the beginning.
Time to put on my big girl panties & deal with it.
01 November 2010
Happy Birthday to Me!
Today is my 32nd birthday, and it's been a weird one. The oddest people have remembered. And I was asked if I felt a year wiser - um, no!
Two years ago, I had a horrible time with turning 30... as a small child I had so many dreams, so many things I was sure I would accomplish, and my self-imposed deadline for them all was 30. Hitting that age and having so very few of those dreams fulfilled was really hard on me. There was a lot I had to let go of, mentally. And last year wasn't much better. But I feel good about 32, truly optimistic about it all, and today I'm focusing on the return of enjoying my birthday, rather than dreading it. I'm feeling good about feeling good, how very meta, eh?
I am also going to try something this year, that I've seen in various other flavours around the interwebs: the idea of dividing the year into quarters, as three months seems like a good amount of time for goal-setting, or in my case something less formal/more woo-woo than "goals". And since today is the start of my own personal New Year (Happy New Year to Me!) I'm going to run my quarters from here. So November-December-January is my first quarter of year 32. I haven't done the formal planning for it that I was planning to (teehee I was planning to plan, how very me) but I am drawn to the theme "strength". These next three months I'm going to focus on my strengths and my relationship with strength and it's antonym, weakness. Hopefully I will manage to blog about some of my thoughts & experiences surrounding this, and be brave enough to hit the "pooblish" button on them.
I just wanted to say thank you to any/everyone reading this, for being a part of my life. Even if your part in my life is "beloved lurker". I think most of us tend to underestimate the importance we have in others lives. I know that if I see a "hit" on this blog, it cheers me, even if there's no new comment or any other more tangible sign of someone's presence. So thank you all! And birthday or no, I hope your day is as special as mine. :)
Two years ago, I had a horrible time with turning 30... as a small child I had so many dreams, so many things I was sure I would accomplish, and my self-imposed deadline for them all was 30. Hitting that age and having so very few of those dreams fulfilled was really hard on me. There was a lot I had to let go of, mentally. And last year wasn't much better. But I feel good about 32, truly optimistic about it all, and today I'm focusing on the return of enjoying my birthday, rather than dreading it. I'm feeling good about feeling good, how very meta, eh?
I am also going to try something this year, that I've seen in various other flavours around the interwebs: the idea of dividing the year into quarters, as three months seems like a good amount of time for goal-setting, or in my case something less formal/more woo-woo than "goals". And since today is the start of my own personal New Year (Happy New Year to Me!) I'm going to run my quarters from here. So November-December-January is my first quarter of year 32. I haven't done the formal planning for it that I was planning to (teehee I was planning to plan, how very me) but I am drawn to the theme "strength". These next three months I'm going to focus on my strengths and my relationship with strength and it's antonym, weakness. Hopefully I will manage to blog about some of my thoughts & experiences surrounding this, and be brave enough to hit the "pooblish" button on them.
I just wanted to say thank you to any/everyone reading this, for being a part of my life. Even if your part in my life is "beloved lurker". I think most of us tend to underestimate the importance we have in others lives. I know that if I see a "hit" on this blog, it cheers me, even if there's no new comment or any other more tangible sign of someone's presence. So thank you all! And birthday or no, I hope your day is as special as mine. :)
23 June 2010
Loser
I had a good cry tonight on the bus ride home from work.
You see, I tend to over-intellectualize pretty much everything. My brain is usually the ONLY part of me that gets listened to. Body? Ignored until it succumbs to illness, then cursed rather than pampered & gently questioned as to what happened. Emotions? Unless they exactly match what my brain believes they should be, suppress Suppress SUPPRESS.
Shockingly, this whole Brain Dictatorship System doesn't work very well. So I'm trying to change, to let some of the other voices that make up my Greek chorus have their say. But it's HARD, and I still forget most of the time. But itty-bitty-tiny baby steps are being made. Last week while sitting on the toilet, I apologized to my body for ignoring it until it had no choice but to scream. And today, after spending yesterday in Super-Bitch Mode for no real reason, I opened myself up to the possibility that my emotions are not at all what my brain keeps insisting they must be.
I told myself, "How I feel is how I feel. I am giving myself permission to feel however I feel. No Shoulds. I just want to know what Is." I'm having a lot of revelations.
One is that even though my brain is absolutely-positive-100%-sure that: "That thing? That's happening at work next week? It will totally be just fine! Everything's going to work out for the best. It's really no big deal at all. Not worth worrying about."
Somehow, in spite of Brain's insistence, the Rest of me is TERRIFIED. Because the Rest of me is equally sure that: "I'm a useless loser. Who no-one likes. So incompetent that it's shocking I haven't been fired yet. Surely they'll catch on soon? Probably next week, when that thing happens, which will bring into stark relief exactly how wrong I am. Wrong for the job, Wrong for everything, just plain Wrong. Then I'll be out of a job & I'm up to my eyeballs in debt & oh god no I'm dreading next week because I'm DOOMED!"
Um, yeah. It would appear that the thing that's happening next week (and a lot of other little things that have been happening this week) have all been bringing up multiple metric ass-tons of my Stuff. Damn Stuff. Every time I think I've finally pitched it, it boomerangs back & seems to bring friends. Sigh.
So I cried. And now I feel marginally better. Reminding myself: This isn't who I am, it's just where I am right now. This is not Truth, it's just how I truly feel right now.
I'm not feeling all better & optimistic yet. But it's a relief to give up the fight to deny that this is where I am right now. Right now, in this moment, I feel like a total loser. Hopefully, in some moment not too distant, I'll feel differently.
You see, I tend to over-intellectualize pretty much everything. My brain is usually the ONLY part of me that gets listened to. Body? Ignored until it succumbs to illness, then cursed rather than pampered & gently questioned as to what happened. Emotions? Unless they exactly match what my brain believes they should be, suppress Suppress SUPPRESS.
Shockingly, this whole Brain Dictatorship System doesn't work very well. So I'm trying to change, to let some of the other voices that make up my Greek chorus have their say. But it's HARD, and I still forget most of the time. But itty-bitty-tiny baby steps are being made. Last week while sitting on the toilet, I apologized to my body for ignoring it until it had no choice but to scream. And today, after spending yesterday in Super-Bitch Mode for no real reason, I opened myself up to the possibility that my emotions are not at all what my brain keeps insisting they must be.
I told myself, "How I feel is how I feel. I am giving myself permission to feel however I feel. No Shoulds. I just want to know what Is." I'm having a lot of revelations.
One is that even though my brain is absolutely-positive-100%-sure that: "That thing? That's happening at work next week? It will totally be just fine! Everything's going to work out for the best. It's really no big deal at all. Not worth worrying about."
Somehow, in spite of Brain's insistence, the Rest of me is TERRIFIED. Because the Rest of me is equally sure that: "I'm a useless loser. Who no-one likes. So incompetent that it's shocking I haven't been fired yet. Surely they'll catch on soon? Probably next week, when that thing happens, which will bring into stark relief exactly how wrong I am. Wrong for the job, Wrong for everything, just plain Wrong. Then I'll be out of a job & I'm up to my eyeballs in debt & oh god no I'm dreading next week because I'm DOOMED!"
Um, yeah. It would appear that the thing that's happening next week (and a lot of other little things that have been happening this week) have all been bringing up multiple metric ass-tons of my Stuff. Damn Stuff. Every time I think I've finally pitched it, it boomerangs back & seems to bring friends. Sigh.
So I cried. And now I feel marginally better. Reminding myself: This isn't who I am, it's just where I am right now. This is not Truth, it's just how I truly feel right now.
I'm not feeling all better & optimistic yet. But it's a relief to give up the fight to deny that this is where I am right now. Right now, in this moment, I feel like a total loser. Hopefully, in some moment not too distant, I'll feel differently.
22 March 2010
Some Days Are Better (Just Not This One)
Some days are better than others, and
Some nights are twice as long, and
Some days I'm more than weak, and
Some nights I'm less than strong, and
Some days I just can't take it, and
Some nights I barely make it, but
Some days,
Some days are better.
-- Charlie Major, Some Days Are Better
Some nights are twice as long, and
Some days I'm more than weak, and
Some nights I'm less than strong, and
Some days I just can't take it, and
Some nights I barely make it, but
Some days,
Some days are better.
-- Charlie Major, Some Days Are Better
Since Charlie's a country singer, he is of course singing about a relationship breakup. But I find it expresses well how I feel coming out of major clinical depression. And today, unfortunately, was not one of the better ones. Ah well, Monday right?
The one bright spot: I am a pseudo-aunt! That is, my boyfriend's little sister had her baby boy in the wee hours this morning. Welcome to the world, Keadrin Trevor Wolford! In spite of the not-so-better days, it really is a wonderful life.
03 February 2010
FANGIRL SQUEEE! (oh, and guilt)
So, uh, um, how to say this? How about "OMG OMG FANGIRL SQUEEE! Havi! Havi. Linked. To. ME?!?! Havi's Blog Post that links to ME
Confession: I actually spotted this late last night. Then had to go to bed, and check again this morning to make sure I wasn't hallucinating or something. Nope, still there! I'm bouncing up & down in my chair like a child who really really has to pee. In other words, I think it's just a leetle bit too late to try & play it cool.
After marginally calming down, I went & read all the other blog links in Havi's post, and now I feel even more stunned & honoured to be included in their company.
THANK YOU! Thank you Havi, for linking to me, and THANK YOU to any readers who've wandered over here through Havi... I know there are at least eleventy-billion totally awesome things fighting for your attention on the interwebs, and I thank you for spending a few of your precious browsing moments here on my stuff. I hope I don't disappoint too much!
Which thought doth nicely lead into... The Guilt. Just figures I get all excited about gaining a small victory over Stucky, start a blog, actually post my ramblings... and then get mired so deep in Stuck Swamp that a month plus passes with nary another post. Although, to be fair, that's about my usual level of follow through. *sigh* Baby steps, baby steps... don't beat myself up... trying trying trying... did I mention little miniature dwarven baby steps?
I did feel a little better when I read this awesome blog post: "It took me a year to write this post."
And this made me giggle when I came across it today... I'm pretty sure it's a picture of Stucky the Bear himself.
Hmmm... it would appear I have no nicely wrapped up point this time. I'm going to try to be OK with that. Till next time; hopefully it won't be near as long!
PS - Did I mention OMG OMG OMG SQUEEEEEEE!? ;)
Confession: I actually spotted this late last night. Then had to go to bed, and check again this morning to make sure I wasn't hallucinating or something. Nope, still there! I'm bouncing up & down in my chair like a child who really really has to pee. In other words, I think it's just a leetle bit too late to try & play it cool.
After marginally calming down, I went & read all the other blog links in Havi's post, and now I feel even more stunned & honoured to be included in their company.
THANK YOU! Thank you Havi, for linking to me, and THANK YOU to any readers who've wandered over here through Havi... I know there are at least eleventy-billion totally awesome things fighting for your attention on the interwebs, and I thank you for spending a few of your precious browsing moments here on my stuff. I hope I don't disappoint too much!
Which thought doth nicely lead into... The Guilt. Just figures I get all excited about gaining a small victory over Stucky, start a blog, actually post my ramblings... and then get mired so deep in Stuck Swamp that a month plus passes with nary another post. Although, to be fair, that's about my usual level of follow through. *sigh* Baby steps, baby steps... don't beat myself up... trying trying trying... did I mention little miniature dwarven baby steps?
I did feel a little better when I read this awesome blog post: "It took me a year to write this post."
And this made me giggle when I came across it today... I'm pretty sure it's a picture of Stucky the Bear himself.
Hmmm... it would appear I have no nicely wrapped up point this time. I'm going to try to be OK with that. Till next time; hopefully it won't be near as long!
PS - Did I mention OMG OMG OMG SQUEEEEEEE!? ;)
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