Chemo Brain gets me in Trouble!

Warning: Language contained in this blog may be offensive to some!

Hello everyone!

Well, I have been starting to feel a little better. Still really weak, but better. I have even begun to get back in the kitchen a little bit, which nearly always gets me into trouble. I have never been known for my cooking skills. But I thought a new pressure cooker would get me in the mood, as well as make things easier and faster in the kitchen (not my favorite room in the house).

The new electronic pressure cooker from HSN arrived, and I started right in. Larry was observing. I was telling Larry that I was going to make a recipe that was shown during the pressure cooker's demonstration on HSN: chicken breasts with salsa. I told Larry, as I was preparing the meal, that the gal on the HSN demo put in "cock hard" chicken breasts, and that they were done cooking in a matter of about 15 minutes. Larry listened and watched. "Can you believe it?" I said. "Cock hard!" The pressure cooker began to do its thing, and sure enough, those frozen chicken breasts were cooked through in 15 minutes. We ate. It was good. And I repeated again: "I just can't believe these things cooked in just 15 minutes, when they started off cock hard!" Finally, Larry (who'd been giving me funny looks all the while, which I thought were because of his amazement with the pressure cooker) said to me, "Do you even realize what you're saying? Why do you keep saying that? That's awful!" I didn't understand. Finally, Larry realized that I really and truly didn't realize I was saying anything offensive. He asked me if I had been meaning to say "ROCK HARD." Oh my gosh, was I ever embarrassed! Yes, I had meant ROCK hard! Oh my heavens!!! I guess my chemo brain had been mixing up the thought of a rooster with the frozen chicken breasts. OH DEAR!

I have had many instances of "chemo brain" since my breast cancer journey began. For example, last week, I said I thought I'd wear my "snake skin" pajamas to bed. Where that came from, I have no idea. Trust me, I do not OWN a pair of snake sking pajamas!

Moral of the story:
Yes, there IS such a thing as "chemo brain." For real, folks. For real.

My Life Passed Before My Eyes Today

Wow, what a sobering experience I had today, when I literally saw my entire life pass before my eyes!! It was a profound and humbling experience. And it all happened during an everyday ride in the car, as Larry and I took a drive this evening. A near-death occurance doesn't have to be sudden to have such an experience, either. Any ol' near-death occurance will do, such as the one I've had.

And so, our evening drive began.

The 1950s. Today, my Uncle Fred Blevins sent to me the most wonderful family photo from the 1950s, which I viewed just prior to Larry and I taking an evening drive. Although the photo was taken about three years before I was born, it was taken at a place I remember so well from when I was a small girl: Grandpa and Grandma Blevins' "Crooks Road house." It was a lovely and whimsical place, where there were nothing but good family memories for me. The singing, the music, the laughter... they never seemed to end there, and when we visited there, I never wanted to leave. My beloved, departed mom was pictured there with her siblings and their wives. Some of those pictured have gone on, and I'll always miss them.

The 1960s. While on our drive this evening, Larry and I saw an old, '60s pop-up tent camper for sale on the side of the road. As some of you may or may not know, my parents' livlihood was sustained by the ownership of a trailer business, and they sold or rented everything from utility trailers, to RVs (including pop-ups), to mobile offices. As I looked at that old pop-up, I recalled a time when my parents had three or four of these units fully open and unfolded, on display on the lot. This old tent camper reminded me of a 1960s day a storm began to blow up. Dad called upstairs (to where we lived, above the business) to mom, asking her to come help him fold up these tent campers to prevent storm damage. Mom complied, wearing her full, '60s-style skirt. Dad said, "Ruth, you take the mattresses out, and I'll start folding up the campers!" I watched the windswept events unfold from our upstairs window, having been admonished to stay inside, out of the impending storm. And then the fun began. Mom grabbed a mattress, and the wind grabbed mom. And she would NOT let go. The next thing I saw was mom rolling with that mattress down John R, with her skirt over her head! They rolled and rolled: mom/the mattress, mom/the mattress, mom/the mattress ... Dad began chase, doing all he could to rescue mom, but he was no match against the mattress, which was more like a kite in that wind. AND MOM WOULD NOT LET GO. When mom and the mattress finally came to rest nearly a block down John R, her skirt remained over her head as she tried to fight her way out from under that skirt. Dad had by now caught up to the both of them, and tried to help mom up off the sidewalk, but she was sooooo angry that all she did was swing at dad. Dad was laughing, which served only to make her madder. Adding insult to injury (and it was only mom's dignity that was injured), the patrons of the barber shop across the street were applauding. Oh my goodness, it is a scene I never forgot, and one which brought us all years of laughter thereafter. Mom was always able to laugh at herself, once her pride was restored, and this was one of her most admirable qualities.

The 1970s. Once again, I attribute today's 1970s memories to Uncle Fred's having sent me some photos he had of ME from my high school days. These photos were fresh in my mind when Larry and I took our drive, as I had just shared them with Larry. In one of the shots, I was playing my beloved bass fiddle, which I continued to enjoy playing bluegrass music on for years and years thereafter. In two other photos, I was in my drum majorette uniform. My hair was long and straight, thick, and reached the middle of my back. I was very trim in those days, and very healthy (and I took all that hair and all that youthful health for granted!). And when those photos were taken, I had not a clue as to the twists and turns my life had in store for me in the decades to come. (I posted one of those majorette photos here; can you believe that's me??)

The 1980s. As Larry and I drove along, we passed the farm that my cousin Kathy and her husband of 30+ years lived in not long after they married. How could that much time have passed?? Their old Hurd Road farm is not far from where Larry and I live now, and is in fact on the very same road, but in a direction of our road we rarely travel. So, when we passed their old farm, I recognized it, and more memories came flooding back! Kathy and Fred had a water bed in that vintage farmhouse, and the kids LOVED playing on that bed -- back when my kids were so little, all those years ago. Sigh. Yes, I was blessed by the birth of both my sons this decade ........... I lost mom in this decade as well -- she never lived to see me have children -- and after losing her, my life was never the same. I learned in this decade that life is not always as carefree and happy as mom had made it for me all those years prior. What a wakeup call it was.

The 1990s. As we passed Kathy and Fred's old farm, Larry, who became my blessed husband late in this decade, turned on the stereo. In the CD player, he had one of my first CDs, the one I recorded in Branson in 1993. More memories rushed my brain. Bittersweet memories of when I was singing in Branson, commuting back and forth from Michigan to Branson, and wishing I'd never followed that dream in the first place, even though my Branson vocal experiences are among my most cherished and fondest. So bittersweet. I missed my boys so much during that time. (Be careful what you dream.)

The 2000s. By now, Larry and I were on our way back home. As we pulled into the driveway of our house, and I looked at the For Sale sign out front, more memories came to me. Thoughts of how much I had wanted our house, this "house of my dreams." But alas, we hadn't been here a month until the neighbors to our front built a huge pole barn in front of our house, and my dream house became a nightmare. This act of rude inconsideration was one I never got over, and is one I have thought about and been saddened by every single day since the pole barn was erected in 2005......... It was in this house that I learned I had stage 3 breast cancer (gulp), and in this house that I continue to recover from same. And it was early in this decade that I lost my dad to the cruel ravages of Alzheimer's. And late in this decade that my beloved grandson, Duke, was born! You know what they say, "Life is like a battery: you have to have both negative and positive in order for stuff to work."

The 2010s. And now, we begin a new decade. I could feel myself emerge from this experience of my life flashing before my eyes within the span of one short drive, as I wondered what this decade, as yet in its infancy, will bring for my family and me. I know what it has brought so far. It has brought me health problems that have threatened my life. And while my illness has frightened me beyond measure, it has also taught me many things. So many things, that if the remainder of this decade marches forward uneventfully, I will still have learned enough in this first year of the 2010s to fill a whole decade. I learned the value of love and support, as I experienced how many people love and care about me, and send up prayers for me and my recovery. I learned how grateful and thankful for my loved ones I am, and that means ALL of you. I learned that I love life more than I ever realized I did, now that I am fighting so hard to hang onto it. I learned that I am stronger than I ever thought I was. I learned that my breast cancer walk with the Lord has given me strength and insight. And most of all, I experienced the integrity of my wedding vows. I have felt, and continue to feel, the true meaning of "to love and to cherish, till death do us part," because this is how I feel about my husband -- a whole new facet and depth of my love for him. And I experienced the "in sickness and in health" promise made to me by my beloved, one that he never broke during the worst experience of our lives together. He has stood by me and taken care of me when I know I couldn't have taken care of myself. And from this example, I learned that life could not be better! How blessed I am!

I was silent throughout our drive this evening, reflecting on the life and memories I cherish. Can you just imagine? Over a HALF A CENTURY passed before me in just the short span of an evening drive!

Lessons and memories. These are what life is made of. Our appreciation and recognition of these treasures are what make us who we are, the good and the bad. Did you ever stop to think that something good almost always seems to come out of something bad? I have learned to try not to focus on what I've lost, but rather, what I have left.

Please everyone, appreciate your life. No matter what it brings you, the good or the bad. Because it's too short to spend time lamenting. The more time we take to lament, the less time we have to appreciate what life really is.

My love and most gracious thanks to you all.

Love and God bless,
Deb 33333333333