Today I cashed in a favor owed to me by the universe.
At around 9:15 this morning, my upstairs neighbor called me. He'd been down in the basement with a plumber, getting an estimate on having his hot-water heater repaired. The plumber had noticed that there was a severely corroded pipe leading into my hot water heater. The plumber mentioned to my neighbor that the pipe needed to be repaired ASAP. It could burst at any moment.
I met my neighbor in the basement to check the situation out. Even I could see that it was a disaster waiting to happen. Great, just what I want to deal with on a day that I have the twins at home with me. Ugh.
But check this out:
9:15—Pipe inspected with neighbor.
9:30—Call made to plumbing company John and I used in September to fix a backed-up bathtub. They say they can send someone right away.
9:45—Plumber arrives, a cheerful guy named Frank. He takes a look and gives me a firm quote of $180. I ask when he can do the work. "How about now?" he says. How can I refuse?
11:00—Work done.
Not bad, I say. $180 for a plumbing job seems pretty reasonable to me, and you can't beat that timeline.
It's the little things. I needed that to go my way.
27 April 2007
26 April 2007
Memory
I keep thinking of the night John died. Hours before his death, I was laying on the bed next to him, talking to him, hoping he knew I was there, hoping that my presence was a comfort.
At one point, I looked over and a tear was rolling down his cheek. His body was so toxic by that point that the tear was bright yellow, almost orange. It stained my fingertip when I wiped it away.
At one point, I looked over and a tear was rolling down his cheek. His body was so toxic by that point that the tear was bright yellow, almost orange. It stained my fingertip when I wiped it away.
Lonely Night
Last night was the first night since John died that the twins and I were alone in the house. My dad is here, but he's staying at a B&B up the road, so once he left around 9:00 p.m., the twins and I were on our own for the night.
Part of me was relieved to get some time to myself. It's been in short supply lately. I've found it hard to balance my desire to get some alone with a craving for the comfort of friends and family.
Being alone in the house really made me feel John's absence, though. I was lounging around on the couch, watching American Idol, wishing I could cozy up to John while I watched. Of course, it didn't help that it was the special Idol Gives Back with lots of sad footage about starving kids in Africa and poor kids in the U.S. Since becoming a mother, I am especially sensitive to the suffering of children, and since John's death, I'm just especially sensitive. There were some tears shed, which is not a bad thing, but not enjoyable, either.
I was very tired from having taken my mom to the airport so early, but I didn't sleep all that well. I fell asleep easily and hard, before I could even finish a conversation I started with John. But then I woke up at 1:00 a.m. for no real reason, and after that I felt like I only slept lightly, a sleep filled with dreams that I no longer remember. I looked for John when I woke up at 1:00, and while I wasn't exactly surprised not to see him in bed next to me, I was harshly lonely for his presence.
**************************
The bureaucracy of death continues. I've contacted all of John's various retirement accounts now, although for one of them I've hit a wall. The rep I talked to said that I needed to contact John's employer re: what to do as the employer maintained the beneficiary information. I'm not even sure who John worked for at the time that he set up this account; the account is an old 403(b) from some job John had right out of grad school, before I even knew him. I might call the fundholder back and talk to someone else to see if I can get a different answer. Not today, though. I'm done with the death calls today.
I had planned to call a charity about donating John's car today. We both hated his car. It had endless mechanical problems and was a gas hog. When I looked up the number to call the charity, though, I got a sudden pang. Dealing with the retirement accounts is largely intangible. Getting rid of John's car, despised as it was, is such an obvious symbol that he is gone, never to return. I hate that damn car and yet suddenly it seems hard to let go. I'll give myself some time on that one.
Part of me was relieved to get some time to myself. It's been in short supply lately. I've found it hard to balance my desire to get some alone with a craving for the comfort of friends and family.
Being alone in the house really made me feel John's absence, though. I was lounging around on the couch, watching American Idol, wishing I could cozy up to John while I watched. Of course, it didn't help that it was the special Idol Gives Back with lots of sad footage about starving kids in Africa and poor kids in the U.S. Since becoming a mother, I am especially sensitive to the suffering of children, and since John's death, I'm just especially sensitive. There were some tears shed, which is not a bad thing, but not enjoyable, either.
I was very tired from having taken my mom to the airport so early, but I didn't sleep all that well. I fell asleep easily and hard, before I could even finish a conversation I started with John. But then I woke up at 1:00 a.m. for no real reason, and after that I felt like I only slept lightly, a sleep filled with dreams that I no longer remember. I looked for John when I woke up at 1:00, and while I wasn't exactly surprised not to see him in bed next to me, I was harshly lonely for his presence.
**************************
The bureaucracy of death continues. I've contacted all of John's various retirement accounts now, although for one of them I've hit a wall. The rep I talked to said that I needed to contact John's employer re: what to do as the employer maintained the beneficiary information. I'm not even sure who John worked for at the time that he set up this account; the account is an old 403(b) from some job John had right out of grad school, before I even knew him. I might call the fundholder back and talk to someone else to see if I can get a different answer. Not today, though. I'm done with the death calls today.
I had planned to call a charity about donating John's car today. We both hated his car. It had endless mechanical problems and was a gas hog. When I looked up the number to call the charity, though, I got a sudden pang. Dealing with the retirement accounts is largely intangible. Getting rid of John's car, despised as it was, is such an obvious symbol that he is gone, never to return. I hate that damn car and yet suddenly it seems hard to let go. I'll give myself some time on that one.
25 April 2007
One Foot in Front of the Other
My mom left this morning. I miss her already. My dad is here now, which is nice and very helpful, but it's not the same as having Mom around. She probably won't be back until the twins' first birthday party in June. That seems so far away, but I have a feeling the time will fly.
I have started dealing with the bureaucracy of death. I made that horrible call to Social Security to set up an appointment about survivors' benefits for the twins. The soonest I can get in is 15 May. I've also been in touch with the group that administers one of John's retirement funds, and I've started looking into donating John's car to charity. I'm trying to take care of at least one item of business a day. I figure that pace is manageable and will get me through it all in a relatively timely fashion. Of course, I may hit the end of my gogogo phase soon and take a break from it all, but we'll see.
The twins are starting to sleep better (knock on wood). They have done great on the last two nights and I hope we're turning the corner on the 5:00 cranky wakeups for now.
I'm surprised by the way I miss John. I expected that I would be a tearful, hopeless mess for a while. That might come. For now, I feel an odd combination of relief for John that he is no longer sick and a hollow sadness like a dull ache, all the time. A particularly touching card or shared memory will make the pain more sharp and bring on the tears, but for now, I mostly feel a constant, lonely grief.
My mom and I were driving around the other day trying to go to REI. I wasn't sure what exit it was off the highway; John was always at the wheel for our REI trips. As I turned off at the third incorrect exit, I almost said to my mom, "Well, duh, we should just call John and ask him where it is. I know that he knows." This has happened to me a few times now, where I feel like John's just away for a while, or at work or something. If only that were more than wishful thinking.
For those of you who were wondering, GH stands for Goose Husband, although for those of you who thought it might be Gorgeous Husband, I'm not going to argue.
I have started dealing with the bureaucracy of death. I made that horrible call to Social Security to set up an appointment about survivors' benefits for the twins. The soonest I can get in is 15 May. I've also been in touch with the group that administers one of John's retirement funds, and I've started looking into donating John's car to charity. I'm trying to take care of at least one item of business a day. I figure that pace is manageable and will get me through it all in a relatively timely fashion. Of course, I may hit the end of my gogogo phase soon and take a break from it all, but we'll see.
The twins are starting to sleep better (knock on wood). They have done great on the last two nights and I hope we're turning the corner on the 5:00 cranky wakeups for now.
I'm surprised by the way I miss John. I expected that I would be a tearful, hopeless mess for a while. That might come. For now, I feel an odd combination of relief for John that he is no longer sick and a hollow sadness like a dull ache, all the time. A particularly touching card or shared memory will make the pain more sharp and bring on the tears, but for now, I mostly feel a constant, lonely grief.
My mom and I were driving around the other day trying to go to REI. I wasn't sure what exit it was off the highway; John was always at the wheel for our REI trips. As I turned off at the third incorrect exit, I almost said to my mom, "Well, duh, we should just call John and ask him where it is. I know that he knows." This has happened to me a few times now, where I feel like John's just away for a while, or at work or something. If only that were more than wishful thinking.
For those of you who were wondering, GH stands for Goose Husband, although for those of you who thought it might be Gorgeous Husband, I'm not going to argue.
I'm Not Going to Work, but I'm Still an Editor
I find misused quotation marks hilarious. Two signs, as seen in the front window of a local cafe, one on each side of the front door:
Now serving "homemade" caramel custard!
Now serving homemade "caramel custard"!
Heh heh heh.
Now serving "homemade" caramel custard!
Now serving homemade "caramel custard"!
Heh heh heh.
20 April 2007
Decision and Pizza
I've decided that it's time to let you all know that GH's real name is John. I usually called him Goose, a habit that started early on in our relationship under circumstances I no longer remember. He called me Goose, too, which sometimes made things confusing to other people, but not to us.
For the past few months, John and I had been in the habit of ordering pizza on Friday nights. Throughout his illness, pizza was the one food that reliably sounded good to John, plus it's easy and cheap and easy and cheap. We'd call in the order just before feeding the babies so that it would be ready for pickup just after they went down.
My mom's still here helping me, and she and I decided to carry on with the pizza tradition. We'll light John's candle and eat our pizza and watch our movie. We're going to watch Invincible. I'm a sucker for the inspirational sports movies, and it was one that GH put in our Blockbuster queue before he died.
It won't be the same without you, Love, but I know you'd want me to carry on
For the past few months, John and I had been in the habit of ordering pizza on Friday nights. Throughout his illness, pizza was the one food that reliably sounded good to John, plus it's easy and cheap and easy and cheap. We'd call in the order just before feeding the babies so that it would be ready for pickup just after they went down.
My mom's still here helping me, and she and I decided to carry on with the pizza tradition. We'll light John's candle and eat our pizza and watch our movie. We're going to watch Invincible. I'm a sucker for the inspirational sports movies, and it was one that GH put in our Blockbuster queue before he died.
It won't be the same without you, Love, but I know you'd want me to carry on
17 April 2007
A Couple of More Notes on Grief, Mine and the Twins'
Riley is having bad dreams. He woke up terrified at 10:30 p.m. last night. Poor little man. I rocked him back to sleep, but as soon as I laid him back down in his bed he was screaming again. I managed to soothe him back to sleep with some lullabies, and he slept through until 5:00 a.m., but then he was ready to rock and roll.
Both babies are waking very early and waking unhappy.
I continue to eat a lot.
I have purged a massive amount of cancer-related stuff from my house. It feels really good.
My in-laws and I picked up GH's ashes today. It went OK. GH is now on one of our bookshelves at home, for now in the ugly brown plastic box from the crematory. I need to figure out what to keep him in more permanently.
After picking up GH's ashes and dropping my in-laws off at the airport, my mom and I took GH to Whole Foods. We needed to stop there, and I didn't want to leave him in the car.
Since GH died, the weather here has been horrible. Saturday, the day we sent him off on his journey at the crematory, has been the only exception. Today, the weather is not great, but seems to be turning the corner. I think GH is glad to be home. I know I'm glad to have him here.
Both babies are waking very early and waking unhappy.
I continue to eat a lot.
I have purged a massive amount of cancer-related stuff from my house. It feels really good.
My in-laws and I picked up GH's ashes today. It went OK. GH is now on one of our bookshelves at home, for now in the ugly brown plastic box from the crematory. I need to figure out what to keep him in more permanently.
After picking up GH's ashes and dropping my in-laws off at the airport, my mom and I took GH to Whole Foods. We needed to stop there, and I didn't want to leave him in the car.
Since GH died, the weather here has been horrible. Saturday, the day we sent him off on his journey at the crematory, has been the only exception. Today, the weather is not great, but seems to be turning the corner. I think GH is glad to be home. I know I'm glad to have him here.
A Wee Bit of Anger
My in-laws went home today. For the most part, they were well behaved and even supportive. They were an immense help with the babies, and I was happy that they were able to truly enjoy some time with the twins rather than finding Maddie and Riley a painful reminder of GH.
They did manage to do one thing that really pissed me off before they left. Since GH got sick, I have used a Yahoo group as a way to keep far-flung friends and family informed about treatment, ups and downs, life in general. It's been so helpful to have that as a way to keep my sanity. One e-mail is much easier to send than hundreds.
Smartly, my brother-in-law decided to post a note to the Yahoo group about GH's funeral arrangements in Michigan. My in-laws have a visitation and burial planned there for the half of the ashes that they received. I'm not attending that for a number of reasons, the main one being that I don't want to go. It's too soon, and that kind of ceremony would not mean much to GH. His parents and sister and brother need that, and I respect that but I don't need to be there.
So my brother-in-law sends out this message to the group with information about the times and locations and all. Fine. Except that he a) does not mention that I won't be attending, causing a bunch of my local friends to go into a frenzy of travel planning so that they can be there to support me and b) mentions that GH will be "laid to rest" in Michigan. Um, no. Not that he needed to get into the details of the cremation and the ashes being divided and all that, but the message he sent made it sound like GH's body was going to be interred in Detroit.
This bothers me for a couple of reasons. First, if GH were really going to be buried there, I'd be at the service. Second, GH's primary wish was to be with me and the twins. His family needs to believe that his primary wish was to be with them. I get that, but felt like implying otherwise was very disrespectful to me, Maddie, and Riley. Not to mention to GH, who had made his wishes clear.
I didn't say anything as I didn't have the energy to argue. Instead, here I am, venting. I also sent a message to the Yahoo group explaining that I would not be in Michigan and that I would, in due time, have a memorial service here in Massachusetts that I hoped they could attend.
A wise commenter (there are so many!) said that my in-laws would likely not be able to respect my grief. I have found that to be true. This was the most glaring example. I'm trying to respect them and theirs, but I admit that it's hard.
They did manage to do one thing that really pissed me off before they left. Since GH got sick, I have used a Yahoo group as a way to keep far-flung friends and family informed about treatment, ups and downs, life in general. It's been so helpful to have that as a way to keep my sanity. One e-mail is much easier to send than hundreds.
Smartly, my brother-in-law decided to post a note to the Yahoo group about GH's funeral arrangements in Michigan. My in-laws have a visitation and burial planned there for the half of the ashes that they received. I'm not attending that for a number of reasons, the main one being that I don't want to go. It's too soon, and that kind of ceremony would not mean much to GH. His parents and sister and brother need that, and I respect that but I don't need to be there.
So my brother-in-law sends out this message to the group with information about the times and locations and all. Fine. Except that he a) does not mention that I won't be attending, causing a bunch of my local friends to go into a frenzy of travel planning so that they can be there to support me and b) mentions that GH will be "laid to rest" in Michigan. Um, no. Not that he needed to get into the details of the cremation and the ashes being divided and all that, but the message he sent made it sound like GH's body was going to be interred in Detroit.
This bothers me for a couple of reasons. First, if GH were really going to be buried there, I'd be at the service. Second, GH's primary wish was to be with me and the twins. His family needs to believe that his primary wish was to be with them. I get that, but felt like implying otherwise was very disrespectful to me, Maddie, and Riley. Not to mention to GH, who had made his wishes clear.
I didn't say anything as I didn't have the energy to argue. Instead, here I am, venting. I also sent a message to the Yahoo group explaining that I would not be in Michigan and that I would, in due time, have a memorial service here in Massachusetts that I hoped they could attend.
A wise commenter (there are so many!) said that my in-laws would likely not be able to respect my grief. I have found that to be true. This was the most glaring example. I'm trying to respect them and theirs, but I admit that it's hard.
Things You Don't Think About
I was so proud of myself for getting GH's signature on an important form last week. It's the form we need to discard remaining stored sperm from our IVF journey. We'd been meaning to take care of this for a while, but the form needed to be notarized and we thought we'd have more time and blah blah blah. On GH's last lucid day, I managed to remember to have him sign the form, and our lovely upstairs neighbor, who is a lawyer and notary, notarized it for me.
What I didn't think about was the fact that GH's signature is needed on our taxes. Huh. Well. I'm trying to get around this situation by e-filing, but the system seems to be overloaded. (What, on the last possible day to submit taxes? Really? Shocking.)
I have a feeling this is but one of many examples that I will have of the life annoyances that accompany the grief.
What I didn't think about was the fact that GH's signature is needed on our taxes. Huh. Well. I'm trying to get around this situation by e-filing, but the system seems to be overloaded. (What, on the last possible day to submit taxes? Really? Shocking.)
I have a feeling this is but one of many examples that I will have of the life annoyances that accompany the grief.
15 April 2007
Secret Journey
Yesterday morning, the twins and I got up a little early along with my mom. We all got dressed and had our breakfast, then packed ourselves up into the car.
It was a gorgeous day, sunny and breezy, not too cold. We drove just a few miles, to the most beautiful cemetery I've ever seen. It's like a garden.
At the cemetery, the funeral director led us to a small chapel. Maddie and Riley rode patiently in the stroller, enjoying the lovely spring day and the fresh air. In the basket of their stroller was a sage green pillar candle and a clear glass plate for it to rest on. The matches were in my purse.
We met GH at the chapel. In his simple box, he was wheeled into the crematory. We all followed quietly behind. The funeral director closed the door and left us alone.
We lit the candle and wished GH a safe journey. Mom and I told Maddie and Riley to say goodbye. Maddie obliged by waving and saying, "Bye bye bye bye bye bye," but Riley preferred to chew on his bagel.
Mom stepped out to give the four of us some time together. I told GH to be on the lookout for Dorcasina's husband. I told GH that he would be looking for him, too. I think they will be fast friends, and that is some small comfort.
Love you, Goose. Hope you had a safe trip.
It was a gorgeous day, sunny and breezy, not too cold. We drove just a few miles, to the most beautiful cemetery I've ever seen. It's like a garden.
At the cemetery, the funeral director led us to a small chapel. Maddie and Riley rode patiently in the stroller, enjoying the lovely spring day and the fresh air. In the basket of their stroller was a sage green pillar candle and a clear glass plate for it to rest on. The matches were in my purse.
We met GH at the chapel. In his simple box, he was wheeled into the crematory. We all followed quietly behind. The funeral director closed the door and left us alone.
We lit the candle and wished GH a safe journey. Mom and I told Maddie and Riley to say goodbye. Maddie obliged by waving and saying, "Bye bye bye bye bye bye," but Riley preferred to chew on his bagel.
Mom stepped out to give the four of us some time together. I told GH to be on the lookout for Dorcasina's husband. I told GH that he would be looking for him, too. I think they will be fast friends, and that is some small comfort.
Love you, Goose. Hope you had a safe trip.
Notes on My Grief
For right now, grief and eating seem to be synonyms. I am in serious comfort eating mode.
I am all too painfully aware that this time right now, while difficult and sad, is not the most difficult nor the most sad part. Thanks to my mom's presence, I'm holding myself together for now. Once she has to leave, I think I'm going to fall apart.
I talk to GH all the time, but it feels like a moot point. He always knew what I was thinking before; why wouldn't he know now? Still, I'm keeping up the chatter.
My in-laws have, surprisingly, not been too terribly annoying, and they didn't really push the issue of where to have GH cremated.
I'm clearly in "do" mode. I think that's OK for now. There's a lot of stuff to do, so why not do it right now before the emotional tsunami comes ashore?
All day, I wander around my house throwing away cancer-related stuff. As I move from room to room, if I see something that reminds me of cancer, into the trash it goes. I want GH's presence to remain in the house, but I don't want any reminder of cancer. Books, pills, teas, Ensure . . . away it goes. It can't be out of the house fast enough.
I'm surprised by how much I'm able to enjoy things: dinner with friends on Friday night, a trip to the north shore with my in-laws yesterday, a walk to the store with the twins.
Retail therapy continues. I bought four pair of pants and top at the mall on Friday, plus an outfit for Maddie for her first birthday party. Planning ahead. Couldn't find anything I liked for Riley.
I'm not surprised by how much I appreciate the outpouring of support from the Internets. Thank you.
I'm really, really, really tired. I'm sleeping OK, but I feel like lead all the time.
I miss GH. No surprise there.
I am all too painfully aware that this time right now, while difficult and sad, is not the most difficult nor the most sad part. Thanks to my mom's presence, I'm holding myself together for now. Once she has to leave, I think I'm going to fall apart.
I talk to GH all the time, but it feels like a moot point. He always knew what I was thinking before; why wouldn't he know now? Still, I'm keeping up the chatter.
My in-laws have, surprisingly, not been too terribly annoying, and they didn't really push the issue of where to have GH cremated.
I'm clearly in "do" mode. I think that's OK for now. There's a lot of stuff to do, so why not do it right now before the emotional tsunami comes ashore?
All day, I wander around my house throwing away cancer-related stuff. As I move from room to room, if I see something that reminds me of cancer, into the trash it goes. I want GH's presence to remain in the house, but I don't want any reminder of cancer. Books, pills, teas, Ensure . . . away it goes. It can't be out of the house fast enough.
I'm surprised by how much I'm able to enjoy things: dinner with friends on Friday night, a trip to the north shore with my in-laws yesterday, a walk to the store with the twins.
Retail therapy continues. I bought four pair of pants and top at the mall on Friday, plus an outfit for Maddie for her first birthday party. Planning ahead. Couldn't find anything I liked for Riley.
I'm not surprised by how much I appreciate the outpouring of support from the Internets. Thank you.
I'm really, really, really tired. I'm sleeping OK, but I feel like lead all the time.
I miss GH. No surprise there.
12 April 2007
Goodbye
GH died last night at 8:00.
I went to an appointment at 1:30. Before I left, I kissed GH goodbye and told him I loved him. He kissed me back, and although he could not speak by then, I'm sure he knew who I was. By the time I returned from my appointment, he no longer recognized me, or anyone. He couldn't even open his eyes.
I picked the twins up from daycare at 4:30, and my mom and I fed them their dinner and played with them in the living room with the door to the bedroom open so that GH could hear them laughing and full of joy. The twins were in bed by 7:15. Once they went to bed, I curled up with GH and stayed with him until he died.
I'm so sad on so many levels. I'm sad for GH, myself, and the twins for all the things we won't get to do as a foursome. I'm sad for the world at large for the loss of an incredible man. But he doesn't have cancer anymore. He's not sick anymore. And while the end came so incredibly quickly, we had said what needed to be said and he knew how intensely I loved him, which is the most important thing.
I miss you, Love. I always will.
I went to an appointment at 1:30. Before I left, I kissed GH goodbye and told him I loved him. He kissed me back, and although he could not speak by then, I'm sure he knew who I was. By the time I returned from my appointment, he no longer recognized me, or anyone. He couldn't even open his eyes.
I picked the twins up from daycare at 4:30, and my mom and I fed them their dinner and played with them in the living room with the door to the bedroom open so that GH could hear them laughing and full of joy. The twins were in bed by 7:15. Once they went to bed, I curled up with GH and stayed with him until he died.
I'm so sad on so many levels. I'm sad for GH, myself, and the twins for all the things we won't get to do as a foursome. I'm sad for the world at large for the loss of an incredible man. But he doesn't have cancer anymore. He's not sick anymore. And while the end came so incredibly quickly, we had said what needed to be said and he knew how intensely I loved him, which is the most important thing.
I miss you, Love. I always will.
11 April 2007
The End Is Near
It was a rough night. GH was restless and confused. He was having some pain, but couldn't describe it. He kept wanting to take a shower.
I called hospice at 5:00 a.m. They were helpful on the phone and GH's nurse was here first thing this morning.
With the caveat that no one knows when death will come, the nurse said that she would not be surprised if GH dies in the next day or two.
He sleeps all the time. He's confused. But I could not love him more. Right now, life feels so cruel and so unfair.
I called hospice at 5:00 a.m. They were helpful on the phone and GH's nurse was here first thing this morning.
With the caveat that no one knows when death will come, the nurse said that she would not be surprised if GH dies in the next day or two.
He sleeps all the time. He's confused. But I could not love him more. Right now, life feels so cruel and so unfair.
10 April 2007
Remains
In a macabre dedication, Dorcasina, this one goes out to you.
A little while ago, GH and I talked about what he'd like done with his remains.* GH is not at all religious, and he expressed a desire to be cremated and then put in some kind of container that I could move around with me. (Dorcasina: beleive it or not, this conversation happened maybe a day before you made a comment on this subject. Eerie.) Basically, his wish boils down to being wherever I am. I am all in favor of this.
After some thought, GH decided that he wants to be put in two boxes: one for me and one for his parents. I'd rather have all of him, but I understand where he's coming from and I want to honor his wishes, so OK.
It's taken some discussion, but his parents have agreed to this plan. Today, GH's dad and I were talking about how we will each honor "our share." GH's parents plan to have a traditional funeral and burial, and GH's dad talked about what kind of ceremony they want, etc. Then he asked me, "What do you plan to do here in Boston?"
Um. Uh.
I told him that I don't know yet because I knew the real answer would flip him out. I'm sure we'll have some kind of memorial service, but I plan to keep GH at home. I suppose some people, even many people, might find that creepy, but not me. It's what GH wants, too. I know his parents will find that odd and perhaps even offensive somehow, but they will get over it.
Here comes the gallows humor . . . GH and I are both avid travelers. He's always been somewhat annoyed that I've been to more US states than he has. We both love to cross new states off our list. Today he told me that he'd like it if, when I travel to new states after he is gone, I bring him along for the ride.
Happy to oblige, my love, happy to oblige.
*Aside: remains is such a creepy, detached word. I'm not sure what would be better, but remains? Sounds like the leftovers from dinner. Yuck.
A little while ago, GH and I talked about what he'd like done with his remains.* GH is not at all religious, and he expressed a desire to be cremated and then put in some kind of container that I could move around with me. (Dorcasina: beleive it or not, this conversation happened maybe a day before you made a comment on this subject. Eerie.) Basically, his wish boils down to being wherever I am. I am all in favor of this.
After some thought, GH decided that he wants to be put in two boxes: one for me and one for his parents. I'd rather have all of him, but I understand where he's coming from and I want to honor his wishes, so OK.
It's taken some discussion, but his parents have agreed to this plan. Today, GH's dad and I were talking about how we will each honor "our share." GH's parents plan to have a traditional funeral and burial, and GH's dad talked about what kind of ceremony they want, etc. Then he asked me, "What do you plan to do here in Boston?"
Um. Uh.
I told him that I don't know yet because I knew the real answer would flip him out. I'm sure we'll have some kind of memorial service, but I plan to keep GH at home. I suppose some people, even many people, might find that creepy, but not me. It's what GH wants, too. I know his parents will find that odd and perhaps even offensive somehow, but they will get over it.
Here comes the gallows humor . . . GH and I are both avid travelers. He's always been somewhat annoyed that I've been to more US states than he has. We both love to cross new states off our list. Today he told me that he'd like it if, when I travel to new states after he is gone, I bring him along for the ride.
Happy to oblige, my love, happy to oblige.
*Aside: remains is such a creepy, detached word. I'm not sure what would be better, but remains? Sounds like the leftovers from dinner. Yuck.
09 April 2007
The Blogger Ate My Homework
I wrote a post yesterday and then Blogger ate my homework. Grr.
Here's the short version of the story:
GH came home on Friday. Yay!
He has hepatorenal syndrome. Boo.
I'm on leave from work. Yay!
The reason I'm on leave sucks. Boo.
My mom is here. Yay!
My in-laws are here. Boo.
My in-laws are leaving tomorrow. Yay!
They will be back soon. Boo.
Hospice will be managing the procurement and delivery of all of GH's medications, thus freeing us from the incompetent morons at our local pharmacy. Yay!
GH is on hospice care. Boo.
Overall, GH is doing OK. He's very tired and his abdomen and legs are filled with fluid, making it hard for him to walk around and hard for him to eat. He spends most of the day in bed, and so far has not really had the energy to do some of the things he hopes to do (write some letters, record some stories for the babies). He's going to try to start on some of that today. Emotionally, he's hanging in, although I think he feels very conflicted by wanting his parents around because they are his parents and yet finding dealing with his parents exhausting.
I'm also doing OK. I think it's a combination of the surreality of it all and just dealing with the things I have to as they come rather than thinking about the ultimate outcome. I have social workers coming out my ears: a hospice social worker, an Early Intervention social worker, and an oncology social worker through GH's oncologist's office. Hopefully they can help me figure out how to manage GH's parents and the flood of friends that want to come visit. People want to help and people want to see GH, but I'm very protective of our time together and I don't want him to spend all of his energy on friends and not have any for me. I'm so selfish!
GH's parents are leaving tomorrow. My mom and I are going to go run errands this afternoon and give GH and his parents some time together alone before they go. Then he's mine, all mine! I'm hoping that we can watch 24 together tonight. We missed it last week because of GH's hospital admission, but my mom taped it for us and we watched that episode last night. That show is getting out of control, but I can't stop watching.
I'd thought that when we got to this point, I'd want to take a big trip with GH, or at least get away for a few days alone. I find, though, that now that we're here, I don't care about that at all. Any time together is fine with me. I don't care where we are. Even our alone time in the hospital was wonderful, in its own strange and tragic way.
I also find that I'm obsessed with getting GH to do things for the babies. I really, really want him to write the babies letters and for him to record stories on tape for them. It's hard for me to keep the perspective that while that is important to me, it's up to GH to determine what's most important to him and how he wants to spend his time. I've told him that's important to me, and I know it's important to him, too, but we'll see how he prioritizes things.
We should be getting a visit from our regular hospice nurse today. The weekend on-duty person came by on Saturday. He was very helpful. I hate that hospice is a part of our life, but I hope that the hospice folks will be able to help us find our way down this road.
Next up in posting: more gallows humor. Neither my father-in-law nor my breast pump are involved.
Here's the short version of the story:
GH came home on Friday. Yay!
He has hepatorenal syndrome. Boo.
I'm on leave from work. Yay!
The reason I'm on leave sucks. Boo.
My mom is here. Yay!
My in-laws are here. Boo.
My in-laws are leaving tomorrow. Yay!
They will be back soon. Boo.
Hospice will be managing the procurement and delivery of all of GH's medications, thus freeing us from the incompetent morons at our local pharmacy. Yay!
GH is on hospice care. Boo.
Overall, GH is doing OK. He's very tired and his abdomen and legs are filled with fluid, making it hard for him to walk around and hard for him to eat. He spends most of the day in bed, and so far has not really had the energy to do some of the things he hopes to do (write some letters, record some stories for the babies). He's going to try to start on some of that today. Emotionally, he's hanging in, although I think he feels very conflicted by wanting his parents around because they are his parents and yet finding dealing with his parents exhausting.
I'm also doing OK. I think it's a combination of the surreality of it all and just dealing with the things I have to as they come rather than thinking about the ultimate outcome. I have social workers coming out my ears: a hospice social worker, an Early Intervention social worker, and an oncology social worker through GH's oncologist's office. Hopefully they can help me figure out how to manage GH's parents and the flood of friends that want to come visit. People want to help and people want to see GH, but I'm very protective of our time together and I don't want him to spend all of his energy on friends and not have any for me. I'm so selfish!
GH's parents are leaving tomorrow. My mom and I are going to go run errands this afternoon and give GH and his parents some time together alone before they go. Then he's mine, all mine! I'm hoping that we can watch 24 together tonight. We missed it last week because of GH's hospital admission, but my mom taped it for us and we watched that episode last night. That show is getting out of control, but I can't stop watching.
I'd thought that when we got to this point, I'd want to take a big trip with GH, or at least get away for a few days alone. I find, though, that now that we're here, I don't care about that at all. Any time together is fine with me. I don't care where we are. Even our alone time in the hospital was wonderful, in its own strange and tragic way.
I also find that I'm obsessed with getting GH to do things for the babies. I really, really want him to write the babies letters and for him to record stories on tape for them. It's hard for me to keep the perspective that while that is important to me, it's up to GH to determine what's most important to him and how he wants to spend his time. I've told him that's important to me, and I know it's important to him, too, but we'll see how he prioritizes things.
We should be getting a visit from our regular hospice nurse today. The weekend on-duty person came by on Saturday. He was very helpful. I hate that hospice is a part of our life, but I hope that the hospice folks will be able to help us find our way down this road.
Next up in posting: more gallows humor. Neither my father-in-law nor my breast pump are involved.
06 April 2007
Quote from My Father-in-Law
Scene: GH's hospital room
Characters: GH, in hospital bed. Me, sitting on bed, breast pump going full strength. In-laws, in chairs near the foot of the bed.
[wheeze wheeze wheeze says the pump]
FIL: Huh, it doesn't come out so fast, does it?
Me (thinking to myself): Could you at least pretend not to watch? Please?
Characters: GH, in hospital bed. Me, sitting on bed, breast pump going full strength. In-laws, in chairs near the foot of the bed.
[wheeze wheeze wheeze says the pump]
FIL: Huh, it doesn't come out so fast, does it?
Me (thinking to myself): Could you at least pretend not to watch? Please?
05 April 2007
Not Yet
GH is not home yet. The kidney docs wanted to take a look and see if they could find a way to improve his renal function. Guess what? It's a no-go. His kidney function is poor because of his poor liver function. If the liver function can't be fixed, the kidney function won't improve. Alas.
He should be home tomorrow after our meeting with hospice.
I'm too tired to write more now, but there's lots to say. Some of it is even funny, in that tragic funny way, especially the stuff about my in-laws.
He should be home tomorrow after our meeting with hospice.
I'm too tired to write more now, but there's lots to say. Some of it is even funny, in that tragic funny way, especially the stuff about my in-laws.
04 April 2007
Tried, Failed
GH had the procedure today to place some stents in his liver to help with bile drainage and hopefully alleviate some of the jaundice and itching he's been suffering. Alas, the procedure was not successful. They were not able to place any stents.
Also in the bad news category today: GH's kidney function is starting to look less than stellar. Great.
One last bit of bad news: the weather had the nerve to be snowy today. Snow! WTF? I guess that's New England for you.
In the good news category, he will likely come home tomorrow. Hooray for that.
Also in the good news category, my mom will be here on Saturday. She bought a one-way ticket and will stay as long as we (mostly I) need her. I am thrilled. I have a great support network of friends here, but they all have their own lives and many of them have kids and they do everything they can, but they can't be my mom.
In the category of You Take Your Memories Where You Can Make Them, I took a lovely nap with GH today, curled up on his hospital bed. It was nice to feel so close to him and be peaceful like that.
Also in the bad news category today: GH's kidney function is starting to look less than stellar. Great.
One last bit of bad news: the weather had the nerve to be snowy today. Snow! WTF? I guess that's New England for you.
In the good news category, he will likely come home tomorrow. Hooray for that.
Also in the good news category, my mom will be here on Saturday. She bought a one-way ticket and will stay as long as we (mostly I) need her. I am thrilled. I have a great support network of friends here, but they all have their own lives and many of them have kids and they do everything they can, but they can't be my mom.
In the category of You Take Your Memories Where You Can Make Them, I took a lovely nap with GH today, curled up on his hospital bed. It was nice to feel so close to him and be peaceful like that.
03 April 2007
[no title]
GH should be home from the hospital on Friday. The antibiotics seem to have helped, but the source of the infection is still a bit of a question mark. The docs drained nearly four liters of fluid from his abdominal cavity today, which will be analyzed for infection. Even if the fluid wasn't the problem, GH is still more comfortable with it out. It's hard to eat when you have so much fluid taking up space in there.
Tomorrow GH will have a procedure to place stents in his liver. The team at the hospital he's in now thinks that they can access enough blockages to make it worthwhile. They don't guarantee success, but they want to give it the ol' college try. The stents will be internal. They aren't sure how many they will place yet. Once they get in there, they'll figure out how many blockages they can relieve.
The stents will help with the jaundice and thus the infernal itching that has plagued GH over the past weeks. What they won't help with is the prognosis. GH's oncologist was by today. She's not a woman to say "You have X amount of time to live" because really, what good does that do anyone? But this time was different. This time she felt like she needed to let us know that we could be looking at weeks here. Weeks. Not months. Not years. Weeks. When you may only have weeks, you start to need to do things and think about things in a different way.
Weeks.
It's too soon and it's too fast. But that would always be the case.
Weeks.
Tomorrow GH will have a procedure to place stents in his liver. The team at the hospital he's in now thinks that they can access enough blockages to make it worthwhile. They don't guarantee success, but they want to give it the ol' college try. The stents will be internal. They aren't sure how many they will place yet. Once they get in there, they'll figure out how many blockages they can relieve.
The stents will help with the jaundice and thus the infernal itching that has plagued GH over the past weeks. What they won't help with is the prognosis. GH's oncologist was by today. She's not a woman to say "You have X amount of time to live" because really, what good does that do anyone? But this time was different. This time she felt like she needed to let us know that we could be looking at weeks here. Weeks. Not months. Not years. Weeks. When you may only have weeks, you start to need to do things and think about things in a different way.
Weeks.
It's too soon and it's too fast. But that would always be the case.
Weeks.
Surreality
The ER of a big city hospital is a crazy, surreal place at 11:00 p.m. on a Monday night. I don't know if this is true of all ERs, but according to the nurse I spoke to, Monday is always the busiest night at the downtown hospital we visited.
GH spiked a 103°F fever last night. Yikes. One call to the oncologist later, we were on our way to the hospital. Luckily, a friend was able to come over and be on baby duty. Also luckily, GH's doc had called the ER to let us know he was coming in, so they saw us right away, saving us from a wait among the crush of humanity that was literally overflowing the ER waiting room. There were no chairs, and lots of clearly contagious people everywhere. I don't want to be a snob, and I feel for people who don't have health care and have to use the ER as their primary care source. But that doesn't mean that I want my seriously immunocompromised husband to spend time there.
The ER docs and nurses were awesome, really professional and nice. Once GH was set up with IV fluids and anitbiotics and it was clear that he was going to spend the night, I went home to catch some shut-eye. The babies cut me a break and slept until 6:45 a.m., thank goodness. The twins and I spent a nice morning together, then I took them to daycare.
I spoke with GH before I left the house. He's waiting for his oncologist to drop by, but the hospital doc has indicated that he will likely spend one more night at the hospital. They suspect an infection in the fluid that is collecting in his abdomen. Hopefully the triple-threat antibiotic they put him on will knock that right out.
Time for me to shower and head downtown, with a coffee stop along the way.
GH spiked a 103°F fever last night. Yikes. One call to the oncologist later, we were on our way to the hospital. Luckily, a friend was able to come over and be on baby duty. Also luckily, GH's doc had called the ER to let us know he was coming in, so they saw us right away, saving us from a wait among the crush of humanity that was literally overflowing the ER waiting room. There were no chairs, and lots of clearly contagious people everywhere. I don't want to be a snob, and I feel for people who don't have health care and have to use the ER as their primary care source. But that doesn't mean that I want my seriously immunocompromised husband to spend time there.
The ER docs and nurses were awesome, really professional and nice. Once GH was set up with IV fluids and anitbiotics and it was clear that he was going to spend the night, I went home to catch some shut-eye. The babies cut me a break and slept until 6:45 a.m., thank goodness. The twins and I spent a nice morning together, then I took them to daycare.
I spoke with GH before I left the house. He's waiting for his oncologist to drop by, but the hospital doc has indicated that he will likely spend one more night at the hospital. They suspect an infection in the fluid that is collecting in his abdomen. Hopefully the triple-threat antibiotic they put him on will knock that right out.
Time for me to shower and head downtown, with a coffee stop along the way.
02 April 2007
Books, Books, Books
Angela tagged me for this meme over a week ago. Evidently these are the top 100 books as voted by the public. I'm all about wasting time at work today, so here goes. Books I've read are in bold. Books I've never heard of are in itals. My comments in brackets.
1. The Da Vinci Code (Dan Brown)
2. Pride and Prejudice (Jane Austen)
3. To Kill A Mockingbird (Harper Lee) [It's really embarrassing that I haven't read this.]
4. Gone With The Wind (Margaret Mitchell)
5. The Lord of the Rings: Return of the King (Tolkien)
6. The Lord of the Rings: Fellowship of the Ring (Tolkien)
7. The Lord of the Rings: Two Towers (Tolkien)
8. Anne of Green Gables (L.M. Montgomery) [I was a huge Anne fan in late grade school. I've always wanted to visit PEI because of these books.]
9. Outlander (Diana Gabaldon)
10. A Fine Balance (Rohinton Mistry)
11. Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire (Rowling)
12. Angels and Demons (Dan Brown)
13. Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix (Rowling)
14. A Prayer for Owen Meany (John Irving) [My favorite of Irving's books. I read a lot of Irving in Peace Corps and while I enjoy his writing, I found that he wrote the same story with the same characters every time. Owen Meany was a bit different.]
15. Memoirs of a Geisha (Arthur Golden)
16. Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone (Rowling)
17. Fall on Your Knees(Ann-Marie MacDonald)
18. The Stand (Stephen King)
19. Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban (Rowling)
20. Jane Eyre (Charlotte Bronte)
21. The Hobbit (Tolkien)
22. The Catcher in the Rye (J.D. Salinger)
23. Little Women (Louisa May Alcott)
24. The Lovely Bones (Alice Sebold)
25. Life of Pi (Yann Martel)
26. The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy (Douglas Adams)
27. Wuthering Heights (Emily Bronte)
28. The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe (C. S. Lewis)
29. East of Eden (John Steinbeck)
30. Tuesdays with Morrie (Mitch Albom)
31. Dune (Frank Herbert)
32. The Notebook (Nicholas Sparks)
33. Atlas Shrugged (Ayn Rand)
34. 1984 (Orwell)
35. The Mists of Avalon (Marion Zimmer Bradley)
36. The Pillars of the Earth (Ken Follett)
37. The Power of One (Bryce Courtenay)
38. I Know This Much is True (Wally Lamb)
39. The Red Tent (Anita Diamant)
40. The Alchemist (Paulo Coelho)
41. The Clan of the Cave Bear (Jean M. Auel)
42. Kite Runner (Khaled Hosseini)
43. Confessions of a Shopaholic (Sophie Kinsella)
44. The Five People You Meet In Heaven (Mitch Albom)
45. The Bible [It's true, I have never read the Bible. Shameful.]
46. Anna Karenina (Tolstoy)
47. The Count of Monte Cristo (Alexandre Dumas)
48. Angela's Ashes (Frank McCourt)
49. The Grapes of Wrath (John Steinbeck)
50. She's Come Undone (Wally Lamb)
51. The Poisonwood Bible (Barbara Kingsolver) [I loved this book. Kingsolver nailed the Africa experience.]
52. A Tale of Two Cities (Dickens)
53. Ender's Game (Orson Scott Card)
54. Great Expectations (Dickens)
55. The Great Gatsby (Fitzgerald)
56. The Stone Angel (Margaret Laurence)
57. Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets (Rowling)
58. The Thorn Birds (Colleen McCullough)
59. The Handmaid's Tale (Margaret Atwood)
60. The Time Traveller's Wife (Audrew Niffenegger)
61. Crime and Punishment (Fyodor Dostoyevsky)
62. The Fountainhead (Ayn Rand)
63. War and Peace (Tolsoy)
64. Interview With The Vampire (Anne Rice)
65. Fifth Business (Robertson Davies)
66. One Hundred Years Of Solitude (Gabriel Garcia Marquez)
67. The Sisterhood of the Travelling Pants (Ann Brashares)
68. Catch-22 (Joseph Heller)
69. Les Miserables (Hugo)
70. The Little Prince (Antoine de Saint-Exupery)
71. Bridget Jones' Diary (Fielding)
72. Love in the Time of Cholera (Marquez)
73. Shogun (James Clavell)
74. The English Patient (Michael Ondaatje)
75. The Secret Garden (Frances Hodgson Burnett)
76. Tigana (Guy Gavriel Kay)
77. A Tree Grows in Brooklyn (Betty Smith)
78. The World According To Garp (John Irving)
79. The Diviners (Margaret Laurence)
80. Charlotte's Web (E.B. White)
81. Not Wanted On The Voyage (Timothy Findley)
82. Of Mice And Men (Steinbeck)
83. Rebecca (Daphne DuMaurier)
84. Wizard's First Rule (Terry Goodkind)
85. Emma (Jane Austen)
86. Watership Down (Richard Adams)
87. Brave New World (Aldous Huxley)
88. The Stone Diaries (Carol Shields)
89. Blindness (Jose Saramago)
90. Kane and Abel (Jeffrey Archer)
91. In The Skin Of A Lion (Ondaatje) [Although I have heard of the author.]
92. Lord of the Flies (Golding)
93. The Good Earth (Pearl S. Buck)
94. The Secret Life of Bees (Sue Monk Kidd)
95. The Bourne Identity (Robert Ludlum) [I tried to read this. I failed. Love the movie, though. Or is it just that I love Matt Damon?]
96. The Outsiders (S.E. Hinton)
97. White Oleander (Janet Fitch)
98. A Woman of Substance (Barbara Taylor Bradford)
99. The Celestine Prophecy (James Redfield) [Well, I started it. Never finished.]
100. Ulysses (James Joyce)
Not bad, if I do say so myself. What should I read next?
If you're feeling like a meme, consider yourself tagged.
1. The Da Vinci Code (Dan Brown)
2. Pride and Prejudice (Jane Austen)
3. To Kill A Mockingbird (Harper Lee) [It's really embarrassing that I haven't read this.]
4. Gone With The Wind (Margaret Mitchell)
5. The Lord of the Rings: Return of the King (Tolkien)
6. The Lord of the Rings: Fellowship of the Ring (Tolkien)
7. The Lord of the Rings: Two Towers (Tolkien)
8. Anne of Green Gables (L.M. Montgomery) [I was a huge Anne fan in late grade school. I've always wanted to visit PEI because of these books.]
9. Outlander (Diana Gabaldon)
10. A Fine Balance (Rohinton Mistry)
11. Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire (Rowling)
12. Angels and Demons (Dan Brown)
13. Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix (Rowling)
14. A Prayer for Owen Meany (John Irving) [My favorite of Irving's books. I read a lot of Irving in Peace Corps and while I enjoy his writing, I found that he wrote the same story with the same characters every time. Owen Meany was a bit different.]
15. Memoirs of a Geisha (Arthur Golden)
16. Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone (Rowling)
17. Fall on Your Knees(Ann-Marie MacDonald)
18. The Stand (Stephen King)
19. Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban (Rowling)
20. Jane Eyre (Charlotte Bronte)
21. The Hobbit (Tolkien)
22. The Catcher in the Rye (J.D. Salinger)
23. Little Women (Louisa May Alcott)
24. The Lovely Bones (Alice Sebold)
25. Life of Pi (Yann Martel)
26. The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy (Douglas Adams)
27. Wuthering Heights (Emily Bronte)
28. The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe (C. S. Lewis)
29. East of Eden (John Steinbeck)
30. Tuesdays with Morrie (Mitch Albom)
31. Dune (Frank Herbert)
32. The Notebook (Nicholas Sparks)
33. Atlas Shrugged (Ayn Rand)
34. 1984 (Orwell)
35. The Mists of Avalon (Marion Zimmer Bradley)
36. The Pillars of the Earth (Ken Follett)
37. The Power of One (Bryce Courtenay)
38. I Know This Much is True (Wally Lamb)
39. The Red Tent (Anita Diamant)
40. The Alchemist (Paulo Coelho)
41. The Clan of the Cave Bear (Jean M. Auel)
42. Kite Runner (Khaled Hosseini)
43. Confessions of a Shopaholic (Sophie Kinsella)
44. The Five People You Meet In Heaven (Mitch Albom)
45. The Bible [It's true, I have never read the Bible. Shameful.]
46. Anna Karenina (Tolstoy)
47. The Count of Monte Cristo (Alexandre Dumas)
48. Angela's Ashes (Frank McCourt)
49. The Grapes of Wrath (John Steinbeck)
50. She's Come Undone (Wally Lamb)
51. The Poisonwood Bible (Barbara Kingsolver) [I loved this book. Kingsolver nailed the Africa experience.]
52. A Tale of Two Cities (Dickens)
53. Ender's Game (Orson Scott Card)
54. Great Expectations (Dickens)
55. The Great Gatsby (Fitzgerald)
56. The Stone Angel (Margaret Laurence)
57. Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets (Rowling)
58. The Thorn Birds (Colleen McCullough)
59. The Handmaid's Tale (Margaret Atwood)
60. The Time Traveller's Wife (Audrew Niffenegger)
61. Crime and Punishment (Fyodor Dostoyevsky)
62. The Fountainhead (Ayn Rand)
63. War and Peace (Tolsoy)
64. Interview With The Vampire (Anne Rice)
65. Fifth Business (Robertson Davies)
66. One Hundred Years Of Solitude (Gabriel Garcia Marquez)
67. The Sisterhood of the Travelling Pants (Ann Brashares)
68. Catch-22 (Joseph Heller)
69. Les Miserables (Hugo)
70. The Little Prince (Antoine de Saint-Exupery)
71. Bridget Jones' Diary (Fielding)
72. Love in the Time of Cholera (Marquez)
73. Shogun (James Clavell)
74. The English Patient (Michael Ondaatje)
75. The Secret Garden (Frances Hodgson Burnett)
76. Tigana (Guy Gavriel Kay)
77. A Tree Grows in Brooklyn (Betty Smith)
78. The World According To Garp (John Irving)
79. The Diviners (Margaret Laurence)
80. Charlotte's Web (E.B. White)
81. Not Wanted On The Voyage (Timothy Findley)
82. Of Mice And Men (Steinbeck)
83. Rebecca (Daphne DuMaurier)
84. Wizard's First Rule (Terry Goodkind)
85. Emma (Jane Austen)
86. Watership Down (Richard Adams)
87. Brave New World (Aldous Huxley)
88. The Stone Diaries (Carol Shields)
89. Blindness (Jose Saramago)
90. Kane and Abel (Jeffrey Archer)
91. In The Skin Of A Lion (Ondaatje) [Although I have heard of the author.]
92. Lord of the Flies (Golding)
93. The Good Earth (Pearl S. Buck)
94. The Secret Life of Bees (Sue Monk Kidd)
95. The Bourne Identity (Robert Ludlum) [I tried to read this. I failed. Love the movie, though. Or is it just that I love Matt Damon?]
96. The Outsiders (S.E. Hinton)
97. White Oleander (Janet Fitch)
98. A Woman of Substance (Barbara Taylor Bradford)
99. The Celestine Prophecy (James Redfield) [Well, I started it. Never finished.]
100. Ulysses (James Joyce)
Not bad, if I do say so myself. What should I read next?
If you're feeling like a meme, consider yourself tagged.
The Weekend, Two Versions
Version One: The Good
- Lots of help with the twins.
- Spending quality time with my siblings-in-law, both of whom are bright, talented, and caring people.
- Taking the twins to the park, where they got to swing and go down the giant slide.
- Walks in warm, sunny weather.
- As mentioned in the previous post, getting loads of good stuff at the moms of twins yard sale, and selling some stuff that we don't need anymore. I think I broke even.
- New clothes from my sister-in-law. She keeps me vaguely stylish.
- A playdate with a friend and her daughter. Maddie and Riley ate big hunks of bagel and loved them!
- The twins deciding that 5:30 a.m. is a great time to wake up. Not only is it a great time to wake up, it's a great time to wake up and sob! until! mom! comes! to get us!
- My brother-in-law leaving empty chip wrappers, computer cords, books, CDs, and all manner of other random crap all over the house. He is such a slob!
- My brother- and sister-in-law taking a nap when I got home from the yard sale on Saturday. I had gotten up at 5:30 a.m. to pump, then worked from 6:30 a.m. to 1:00 p.m. Did anyone ask if I wanted a nap? (Hint: the answer starts with n and ends with o.)
- My sister-in-law pushing me to talk about issues that GH and I haven't even discussed yet. She wants us to be prepared, but we'll do things on our own timetable, thank you. And some things are not her business no matter how much she wants them to be.
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