Coming Home, For A Battle

If you have noticed, I have been blogging a little less in the past two months.  I have been preoccupied.  There is work, and my Master’s program.  And then there is the Big C.

My father has had cancer for many years.  He was given a crappy prognosis about 14 years ago.  He kicked major ass.  He refused to believe his life was over more than a decade ago.  He found new treatments, got into experimental programs and generally was a hard ass with the doctors and told them, No—I will not die—so figure it out.  And they did, and he won.

Well another battle has started.  A couple of months ago he started having some major health problems—turns out it is a new, more fancy*  cancer.  He has always loved to upgrade!

So, I am home for the summer.  Usually when I come home for a couple of weeks there is a lot of running around, visiting, friends and family.  This summer I will be home for eight weeks.  I will still be running around, but with a different agenda.  Running errands, taking Dad to chemo, doing chores to make the house run smoothly, etc.  I will be able to visit with family, too.   My mom has been amazing, taking care of the house, their business and Dad with good humor and grace.  My brother has been great too, as well as my parents’ community. People really want to help, neighbors and friends have been dropping by to help with house projects and leaving food.  However, this summer I am hoping to take over many of these things so that Mom can have a break from being on medical duty 24/7 and have time to work in the office.  I will also be the official “Kitchen Bitch” as we call it at our house.

It has been great to be home with my family, and be helping out.  I have been able to *do* something.   The last two months have sucked, nothing is worse than feeling impotent when your family needs help.

So, I am counting on my Dad being a stubborn SOB, and telling cancer to F*ck off again.  Because that is the kind of guy he is, never runs away from a challenge and never cowed by the odds.  I don’t do the God thing, but if you want to throw some good thoughts our way, positive Karma can is always a good thing.  Karma can be a bitch, and I want it to be our bitch.

WITH HER FATHER DAN

*fancy aka “wicked” rare.

Winter Wind is Dangerous

The weather here has been crazy, warm spring days, then snowfall and chilling winds.  The chilling winds are a problem.  Seriously.  The other day I took the dog for a walk.  All was going well.  It was cooler than usual—not a problem.  So we are walking, and the dog takes care of her business…not strange.  So then I do the normal, socially responsible thing and I pick up her poo with a plastic shopping bag.

There was a hole in the bag.   A. Hole. In. The. Bag.  So then I have poo smeared all on my fingers.  Do I have a wipe? A napkin?  A used tissue?  No.  Nothing.  I even though about picking up tissues of the ground, but then I realized whatever was on them might be worse that poo.   Or it might  be poo.  As least I knew whose fecal matter was smeared on my fingers.   So I found a nice soft patch of grass and did the best I could.

I decided not to turn back and go home because the dog had only been outside for 5 minutes.  She needed a walk and besides that, if I had turned around I would have have to drag her back or carry her because she did NOT want to go home yet.  So with pooey fingers we proceed on our walk.  Then that “Winter Wind” became a problem.  There was a hole in the bag, this I knew.  And the poo was slowly falling out the bottom of the bag.  I started to hurry towards the trash—still wanting to be social responsible with my gooey, warm bag of poo.  But then the wind came and the poo started flying out of the bottom the bag.  This was when I decided to forget social responsibility.  By this time the poo was spraying with the wind and I decided, poo on my fingers—I can deal with. Poo all over my clothes.  Forget it.    That winter wind makes me nervous.

Mass Riots

Well Maybe not a Riot, but there was a disturbance outside my window on Thursday. Cars were honking, flags flown out their windows. There were men singing in unison while marching down the streets wearing matching uniforms and waving flags. There were shouts and cries from neighboring apartments.

All in unison

Was there a coup? A new government? I asked Bülent what was going on. The answer was: Cimbom (pronounced JIM- Bom) It is a Turkish soccer team. They won a game against Bordeaux, a French team. This was cause for Cimbom fans to celebrate.

At least now I know, and next time there is a soccer game and a public response I won’t be frightened…much.