Taking a Dip in the Actors' pool again

  Well, just got back from my audition.  It went so well.   I was amazed how well it went, considering that I've not auditioned for theatre work in about 5 years.  However, my conflicts came up.  The main conflict was THE BREAST CANCER THREE DAY WALK:  September 12, 13, 14.  This is the same weekend of their Tech Rehearsal.  It was a deal breaker!  Thanks, again, cancer for reminding me why you've continually given me the shaft!  You know, my work schedule was not working with their rehearsal schedule either.  However, the director kept saying ... to the 2 artistic directors ... "Well, we can change the rehearsal schedule.  We can make it later.  We can tweak it!"  They just looked at him like was crazy and said, "Um, Nooooo, actually, we cannot."  I told them that I absolutely understood and I absolutely agreed  that the schedule wasn't going to work.  I told them that I was just glad to get some practice in.  This is all true.  It was great to be back in there doing what love doing.  Felt GREAT!

  As I was leaving, the director said, "You know Anna, you gave the best audition we've seen for this character.  I mean that."  BAM ... KNIFE TO THE HEART!  Considering tonight is the last night of auditions and I was at the end of the list, that meant a lot.  He fought to change an entire rehearsal schedule for me AND MY CHARACTER WASN'T THE ACTUAL LEAD.  What a sweet guy.  What a great group the whole company is.  They are wonderful.  I loved auditioning for them.  It was a treat.  I just hated to waste their time.

  We're off to the beach tomorrow.  We're heading out there as a family...and with Otis, my newly adopted dog.  Well, he doesn't live with me.  But, after last weekend's love-fest, Topo agrees that he would have a ball going out there with me and Kevin and Silas.  So, I was able to talk her out of her beach house AND her dog for the weekend.  SUCKER!!!!!!!!!!

Back to Civilization...

   Well, we made it back from the beach.  Went to my agent, "T's", beach house in Pacific Beach for the holiday.  It was T, Kevin, Silas, me ... then, her gardener/friend and a dear friend of his joined us on Saturday night.  Dogs abounded.  Laughs abounded.  Food abounded.  SAKE AND WINE ABOUNDED ... AND ABOUNDED ... AND ABOUNDED.  So fun and relaxing.  I feel sorry for the folks working at the recycling place.  They are going to be working overtime for 3 months because of our alcohol intake this weekend.  T's dog Otis seems to have some newfound, bizarre crush on me.  It was quite weird, as he was attached to my hip INCESSANTLY.   In the house, on the beach, in the car.  Just weird.  He and I slept in the same bed to help cure my urge for wanting my own dog.  It didn't help.  Now I want Otis.  I will not stop until I steal her damned dog!

   The Pacific Ocean is gorgeous, I must say.  The beaches or either made of sand or perfectly rounded, brightly colored rocks.  BUT IT IS COLD.  I prefer the Atlantic.  Sorry Left-coasters.  But, to have the ocean in front of you and not be able to jump in - without freezing your genitals off- seems sinful.  If I could have the beauty of the Pacific and the warmth and smell of the Atlantic all in one setting, you'd never see me again.

  In any event, it was a gorgeous weekend.  Kevin and I will be heading up this coming weekend on our own (with Silas) to take advantage of her gorgeous home again.  Unfortunately, T cannot join us.  She's such a dear friend to share such an amazing place without question.  So, we'll drink all her liquor, sleep in her personal cottage right outside of the main house, and run naked down the street while singing Tiny Tim songs ... just so the neighbors know what she's truly like!  You ARE the friends you keep, right?  

  Seriously, thank  you so much T for sharing your world with us ... AS USUAL.  It was gorgeous.

  I got my right booby expanded  yesterday.  The radiated side.  The left side is so huge that they're trying to make the radiated side catch up.  I don't know if any of you have had radiation.  But, it rocks your world.  Well, not your world, but ALL the tissue (skin, muscle, etc) that it targets.  So, my skin and muscle feel like granite.  It's bizarre.  The "fills" have been pretty uncomfortable up to date.  But, yesterday took the cake.  By 9:00pm I was wanting to cut my own armpit off.  The radiation doesn't allow the expander to expand the chest too quickly, so that damned thing pushed on and then into my armpit.  That armpit has had all the nodes removed AND was scraped to get scar tissue out recently.  So, it has a propensity to be sensitive anyway.  I now know what it feels like to survive having 200 bottle-rockets shot into your armpit.  In a word:  SHITTY.   After a VERY sleepless night and a busy-ish day at work, I'm feeling a bit better.

  I have an audition for Even Cowgirls Get the Blues tomorrow.  I doubt that it's gonna work out, as I'm just so slammed.  I told the stage manager this when she called to schedule my audition.  Probably not something a professional actress should  say to a well-renowned Equity theatre.  I just said, "you know, I'm really busy and I don't know if this is the right time.  The director might do best spending his time on people that really want and can definitely do this/these roles. "  They want me to read for 2 of the lead cowgirls.  She was adamant that the director ("R", a wonderful guy) knows how tight my time was, but he really wanted to see me.  So, we'll see.  I sort of hope that it doesn't work out.   NOT that I don't love what they have created with this amazing script.  He and his wife are amazing people.  They have adapted the book into an amazing play.  Plus, they slay me ... they're just as bold and brash as Kevin and myself.  But, having to make the schedule work with my work schedule, treatments, and family might  be WAY too much.  I don't want to stress THEM or MY FAMLY out.  On the other hand, it's great to get back into the theatre ... even just for a  moment.  The smell is just as haunting as the ocean to me.  It's home.  I'll keep you a-"breast".  All puns intended!

   

Enjoy the pics ...

Rocket Pit!

  

Practicing restraint...

  Oh, man, I'm on fire.  So, the story goes:

  Kevin, Silas and I went to dinner tonight after work.  After ordering beers and dinner, we got all our grub.  It was good.  Then, two hipster chicks ... I think they were women, but that would definitely be up for debate ... were seated across from us.   We kept eating.  

  At one point I started to stretch my arms out and up.  My expanders got "filled" yesterday, so I'm in a bit of pain.  Not bad, but not comfortable by any means.   I have to MOVE to get things use to the new "addition" ... tons of cc's of saline pushing against my chest wall and armpits.   I look over and one of the hipster "Pat" people is cupping her boobs and laughing and looking back at me and then looking back at her friend.   These expanders are huge.  I will not deny that.  I look like Pam Anderson.  But, I've got no control over the process that will make me "whole" again.  I adore the process as it's like a science experiment.  But, it's MY experiment.  It's not up for debate OR judging by ignorant and insecure people.

  Oh hell, girl, you DIDN'T!   I had mentioned earlier, to Kevin, that they were just staring and staring at us.  I just brushed it off.  But, NOW, he and I were both watching.  He started to get pissed, as she was still acting like a 3rd grader.  Next thing I know, I was making a comment to the server and I see/hear this hipster "Pat" mock what I was saying.

  Game on, sister  I sit there.  Fire is getting larger and larger inside.  She stares.  I stare back.  She, finally, makes actual eye contact with me and I smiled at her like I was fixing to make her eat her own excrement (I'm editing).   I looked at her and was holding onto my table like it was the  only thing keeping me from jumping up and shoving her plate down her throat.  I'm typically Switzerland.  But, I'm Southern.  I will jack your ass up if you push me too far.    Her stares slowed.  I STILL was planning on going over to hand her her own pasty-white ass.

  Then, I looked over at Silas.  He was singing in his little high chair.  He's such a beautiful person.  I want him to continue to think that most everything and everyone in this world are beautiful too ... at least, for as long I can.  I refuse to be the person that intentionally steals that innocence.  I, then, asked the server for our bill.  We paid our bill.  I stood up, looked over with much intensity, and she wouldn't look back.   We left.

  I've been pacing the floor, wanting to go back and drag her outside by her lip piercing.  I want to spit in her face while detailing the fact that my boobs aren't even boobs.   The skin on my chest is ACTUALLY my BACK skin.  I want to choke her while shoving my expanded boob "thing" down her throat.

  But, what would that accomplish?  I'm not too terribly sad about any of this cancer.  It's life.  I find the whole science aspect of it so completely enthralling.   As long as the cancer doesn't come back, I'm just fine.  I'm just riled that one ignorant idiot had to ruin my chicken-wing dinner and, moreover, my BEER.  DON'T "F" WITH MY BEER!!!  One idiot is so insecure and jealous that they had to assume that I, like Pam Anderson, went out and bought fake tits to get ahead in life.

  She needs a hobby.  If I see her again, I'll will GIVE her a hobby.   I might be a happy person, but Pollyanna, I am not!  I think I'll lift my shirt and show her my Frankenstein Foobs (fake boobs).  I will, then, proceed to use afore mentioned foobs as fists and her face as a punching bag.

  Wow, I feel much better.  Thanks dear readers for the free therapy.  I'm seeing a bit more clearly now.   These knockers are rocking.  They are apparently passing as big ol' fake boobs.   Real enough to make some a-hole take time out of what, I am sure, is an EXTREMELY busy and arduous day of trying to make herself look like a woman OR a man.   Again, I'm not certain in which direction she/he was intending to go with it.   Wow, "shim" really DOES care about me.  Shim might even love me.  Awe, that's sweet.  I think I'll kiss Shim on the lips the next time I see Shim.  I'll kiss Shim on those pasty and pierced lips and ask Shim if Shim would like to feel me up.

  So, I win.  I've got huge knockers that make, even, "those that are cooler than you" jealous.  Yeah for me!  

  I win!

  Now, where's my beer?

xoxo

Anna

  

  

Day three in Poo Poo Land!

  He's done it again!!!  My Mosey pooed on the potty for the third day in a row.  He's now running around the house with a sucker.  He's VERY proud of himself, as am I.

  I was so excited that he did it yesterday, that I called my mom at work.  I fear that I might, one day, get her fired, poor thing.  As you frequent readers know, Mama is a 3rd grade teacher in South Carolina.  So, I got patched in to her room telephone and was yelling.  She then started congratulating Silas.  All the kids in the classroom, obviously, caught on to what she was talking about.  They were all laughing.   You know they're gonna tell all the other kids about Miss W talking about poo.  

  I got my weekly expander fill yesterday.  Holy hooters, Bat Man!   It's very uncomfortable.  My agent, was like, "oh my God!!!!  You look like Pamela Anderson!"  Not a compliment!   Pam might be just the nicest gal on the earth, but her choice in breast size is simply unfortunate.  This won't last.  They will settle and soften once the implant exchange occurs.  Until then, I'm just going have to embrace the Playboy bunny that I know lurks deep inside!

  In other news, we are heading out to my agent's beach house for the holiday weekend.  I'm not a fan of driving on holidays.  But, it's definitely worth it.    The house is right above the Pacific on this cliff/hill.  The sunsets are stunning.   We'll make great meals, drink great wine, play great board games, go on gorgeous walks, and settled in to watch those stunning sunsets.

  Happy Memorial Day weekend to all.

Day as white trash ...

Good evening, my friends and minions.  

I have sidled up to the lap-top with a bowl of clam-chowder and a glass of saki.  That's a menu for a Queen, eh?  Who in the hell eats like that?  Well ........  me.  My son has inherited my love of ketchup, ranch dressing, and all things inappropriately mixed together.  YEAH!  HE GOT MY REDNECK GENE!! Bless his heart ...

Again, a great day.  We spent the morning bowel training.  That's right.  After the whole diaper dumping deal, I've decided that Silas is gonna go commando while at home.  No smoke and mirrors whilst learning how to poo poo on the potty.  After several hours of this, HE DID IT!!!!!  That's right dear readers.  He pooed on his own.  Now, I wasn't actually IN the bathroom, so I'm not certain that he put it in the potty with his own hands or what.  But, baby steps.

  He got a piece of chocolate for his deed.  I realized how ironic it was to give him a Hershey's Kiss after he, himself,  produced one on command.  Plus, it's really hard to figure out which smears on EVERYTHING are poo and what are actual chocolate.

  I've already apologized for the graphic content on this blog.  So, if you're still reading and are disgusted, GOOD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  I hope you just nailed your computer with your dinner.  I'm a mamma.  I talk body functions.

  The rest of the day was spent at the aquarium ... this time I didn't have to defend why my lesbian partner wasn't there.  We have a membership, after all!  If you don't understand that, read earlier posts.  We also had a bite to eat at the market.

  Our Komen 3-day walk benefit is shaping up to be a huge show.  Not only do we have Kevin's old band Trepan playing AND The Second Academy, but Countrycide just said they are IN!  Yeah!!!!  They are a great alt-country band that plays at the Tractor Tavern regularly.  I could not be more thrilled about being able to put this show together and have these wonderful bands donate their time, talent, and equipment to the cause.  Thanks to all that are being so generous to help us out.  That includes Bob at Heaven!  Come see it on June 26th at Heaven (the old CAT WALK).  It's for a wonderful cause.  The team will divide the money and it will go to each of our personal 3-day accounts.   Another portion of the money being raised (probably inside the door) is for Jacqueline and Angi.  They are our dear friend/sister-cousin that are flying up to do the walk with us.  We want to try to help out with some of their expenses, as they both have plane fare and children to deal with.  Bring your checkbooks, cash, or children to donate.  It's going to be great.

  Oh, and I should mention Travis.  I've mentioned him before.  But, when he heard that I wrote about him, he was giddy.  So, Travis:  Your uterus may be bigger than mine, but I KNOW my balls are bigger than yours.  UM-KAY?????  LOVE YOU.

  Okay, off to finish the sake and make sure Silas isn't playing with Hershey's Kisses!

  

Forgot to tell you this...

Seattle had a beautiful weekend.  Silas, Kevin, and I went out to "Golden Gardens", a gorgeous beach on Puget Sound.  While we were walking down the beach together, I noticed a woman approaching.  I noticed her hat.  I noticed her SUPER short hair, barely peeping out from beneath said hat.

I told Kevin, "I think that a woman is a cancer patient."

As we walked towards one another, I noticed the tell-tale sign:  a port-a -cath sticking out of her chest.

As we neared one another, I sang, "MY PORT'S BIGGER THAN YOUR PORT!"

She looked at me, shocked.  Then, she smiled, as I pulled down the front of my sun-dress to expose the same exact tell-tale port.  We, instantly, were on a different plane than everyone else on that beach.

We walked towards one another ... smiling like newlyweds.  We put our arms out and embraced.  It seemed like hours.  It was so strong.  It was beautiful.   When we finally pulled ourselves away from one another, we chatted.  She had cancer of the uterus.  She was diagnosed at stage 4.  However, she now has no evidence of disease.   I LOVE IT!

We talked and talked about her situation:  no insurance at diagnosis, moved back to Kentucky to be near family for treatment, couch surfing while trying to figure this all out.

What do you say to someone you know has dealt with cancer?  What do you say when you want to give them your knowing heart for a brief moment?

I don't know why I sang like a 3rd grader, "My port's bigger than yourrrr port!"

But, it just felt right.

Plus, I tend to use humor to face all of this.  Hopefully, I don't offend anyone in the process.  But, up this point, it's never failed me.

$$$ ... IRS, I'm coming for you!

  The IRS sucks.  How is it that they can enforce a deadline for our paying taxes, when they are given absolutely NO deadline in sending us our tax returns.  This money is ours, after all.  It's simply ridiculous.  I've been banking on getting my return to make up for the time (a month) that I was off of work.  No such luck.  I file in February.  I'm anal like that.  

  Another question.  What are they doing in hospitals that make it so amazingly expensive?  I got a statement from my insurance company.  It's for my most recent surgery.  And, it only includes the hospital ... JUST THE HOSPITAL.  This doesn't include my TWO surgeons, my anesthesiologist, their staff, my prescriptions, the pathologist's fee, etc.  The bill was ... are you ready ... the bill was $65,000.00!   Just from the hospital - the facility.  What in the name of sweet Axl Rose happened in there??   I sure hope I find out one day that I got a face lift, ass implants, lip injections, a major bikini waxing, a micro-chip (in case I get lost), a couple strippers, career counseling, and signed up for "Match.com"  ... on top of all the booby nonsense.  What in hell?!    I don't mind large quantities of cash going to research and education.  I don't mind having to pay quite a bit for a surgery that was fairly intensive.  But, $65,000.00 is mind-blowing.  My previous biopsies, surgeries, chemo treatments, radiations, Herceptin treatments, and MUCH more has added up to around $300,000.00.  That's alot.  But, considering that that had added up over a long time, it's bizarre to me that this recent surgery and hospital stay will end up costing nearly 1/3rd  of what I've been billed thus far.   Craziness, I say.  What do I care?   Insurance pays most of it.   It's just the deductibles and such that add up and add up and add up.

  My nerves are shot!  Now I have to have a glass of wine to settle myself!  Thanks a lot!  No, really, thanks alot.

Happy Sunday

   We spent last night with friends.  Lovely Seattle night in their back yard surrounded by torches and listening to the sound of their water-fall.  Silas chased Chloe, their dog, around.  Chloe chased Silas, my reason for being, around.  Much wine, much wonderful food, much lovely conversation.  It's great to have 2 couples debating couple things.  I was laughing and laughing at how universal the dynamics are between all couples.

  Today, we spent the morning at Volunteer Park here on Capital Hill.  We threw the football ... I must say that I throw a mean spiral.  Silas picked flowers for us.   He has been known to do that and hand them to strangers.  He's the biggest flirt I've EVER met.  

  I, personally, decided that it was a perfect day to find a 4-leaf clover.  I find them all the time.  As a matter of fact, I've found 4, 5, 6, and 8 leaf clovers.  It's one of my VERY few talents.  I was unsuccessful while we were playing.  However, while walking to the car, and after just telling Kevin that the reason I didn't find them was because I was looking too hard, I passed a patch of clover and BAM ... I saw it.  After kneeling down and picking it, I found two more lucky clovers.  I found two 5-leaf clovers, on top of the huge 4-leaf.  I gave them to a woman and her daughter.  The mom said, "Thanks, I'm flying home today.  I could use good luck."   I do not have good luck.  I thought that had been established throughout most of my adult life.  The lucky clover hasn't necessarily paid off as one might think it would.  At this point, I should be living in Greece with my boys, acting regularly, and owning an amazing salon.  It's bizarre that I'm the one that always finds lucky clover, pennies that are heads-up, ALWAYS wins stuffed animals in "claw-machines" and ends up with some pretty shabby "luck."    However, I have ended up with the most amazing family, friends, and work situation imaginable.  

  I'm an asshole.  I've joked about my luck all these years.  I thought it was ironic and silly ... the dichotomy of all these clovers and pennies and stuffed animals, whilst the other crap was there.  But, I have this amazing world.  I have the most, absolutely, amazing people in my life.  I DO have good luck.  If you count my friends and family and clients and health-care peeps, you could NEVER have the luck I do.  You could win 20 million dollars in the lottery, and you will still be less fortunate for me.  I've got riches that you could not even imagine.  Plus, I'm getting new tits!  HA!

  The day was finished off with my agent/dear friend "T." She's a spit-fire, like me.  We took her dogs and her gardener's dog to the dog park.   Her gardener and I will, one day, run away with one another.  We have talked about it at length.  The only glitch is that he, while sober, isn't necessarily attracted to women.  Anyway, the dogs ran and ran.  We talked and talked.  She's one of the reasons that I am so damned lucky.   She will, forever, be one of the most dear people to me.  Look at that!  I AM lucky!

  Tomorrow is Monday.  Sleep well or drink yourself into a stupor.

YO!

  Home again, home again, jiggity jig ...  Sorry.  My mama always sang that.  

  It's been such a gorgeous day here.  We've been partying at the beach all day long.

  The day started out wonderfully.  My Mo (Mosey is his nickname, as that's what he does at the most inopportune times) and I had a big day planned ... at the beach.

  I've been leaving his diaper off in the AMs, so that he will poop on the potty.  If you are easily offended or vomit over body functions, you should leave here NOW.  I mean it.  Oh, and by the way, you're a pussy.  But, this morning, he wasn't going for it.  So, I just put the diaper back on.

  In any case, I was on the phone with a girlfriend "E" who called to let me know that she is just now coming out of the woods after the most shitty chemo regime EVER.  She's been throwing up for 5 days.  Probably EVERY 2 minutes.   The poor thing had to go to the SCCA to get radiation EVERY day, while she was doing this.  She's done.  I'm so happy!  I've been so upset for her.  Who has the time and heart to deal with this cancer stuff when you are raising 2 kids?!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  Thank God she has family to help out. 

   In any case, we were on the phone chatting and Silas comes to me and says "Poo poo in potty!"  I said, "What, Honey?"  He took me by the hand to the bathroom and showed me the cutest little poo you've ever seen.  I felt bad, as I was on the phone whilst he was pushing and pushing to get that poo out, so that he could get a surprise.  I hung up the phone and danced and hugged him and kissed him  and then ... and then ...I said, "Honey, where's your diaper?"  I realized that he had taken his diaper off.  Then, I started thinking. 

  I told him earlier, "as soon as I see poo poo in that potty, you're gonna get a surprise."  Damnit, my kid is brilliant.  I went to the garbage can and pulled out the diaper.  It had the tell-tale sign - SKIDMARKS.  My amazing boy poo pooed in his diaper, while I was on the phone.  He, then, took his own diaper off, dumped the poo in the toilet and threw the diaper in the trash can.  I was wondering why there were stains all over the toilet seat.  He was jonesing for some surprise!

  I had to give him that surprise, as he did what he had been told.  I've got my hands full.

  We, then, went to the beach.  Went out to Golden Gardens.  I use to live next to Golden Gardens when I lived on my boat.  I miss living out there.  I had the most amazing few summers there.  Lots of parties, lots of friends and dates,  lots of cocktails, lots of sea lions, lots of cook outs, lots of sunsets over the Olympic Mountains, lots of music, lots of kisses and "such" with a handsome neighbor that helped me fix up my rickety boat.  It is a beautiful place to be a "live-aboard."

  We had the BEST time at the beach with Heather and Marco.  Kids and parents abounded.  Crows followed us like they were our nannies, as there was so much left-over kibbles in the sand.  By the time we got home, Silas was still wired, but exhausted.  You see him in the pic.  Wanted to sleep in Mama's bed.

  It was lovely.  Simply lovely.  I was back at Shilshole, back at Golden Gardens.  I was back at the beach.  I forgot how much I feel at home there.  I spent a day back home ... warm, comforting, laughs, food, and naked kids everywhere.  Sweet stuff.

Huh?

  Went, tonight, to a club in Pioneer Square to start planning a benefit for our Komen 3-Day Walk team.  We're doing a big show with great bands at "The Heavens" ... previously The Catwalk.  We're the Lickity Splits.  We're pretty surly.   We're the young survivors.  We're mamas, we're single, young professionals, networking, still dating, still growing up, etc.   We tend to be the "forgotten ones."  This disease, for the most part, strikes women of post-menopausal age.  In my opinion, we're the warriors.  We're the ones that are aching to still find our place in the in this world.  We're the ones that that want to see our children grow to graduate from high school.  We're the ones that want to see the world ourselves!  We're the ones that will throw a huge party at an amazing club and invite the world ... as long as they want to donate to the cause.  If you care to donate, go the 3-day page and look up our team.  Our team is so amazing this year.   We're, mostly, young survivors.  The rest of the team is made up of our close support network:  a bunch of crazy cancer girls, 1 Seattle gal, and 4 women that are our close friends/family that are flying in for the walk.  

   My beautiful (figuratively and physically) sister-cousin ANGI is flying up to do the walk with me.  She's been with me from birth.  This woman is my soul mate.  She is the person that was my hero from the day that I knew how to adore a hero.  She's been my best friend since I knew how to say those words.  We shower together, to this day.   She was there with me during college.  She flew up after I had my baby just to be with us in a small hotel room for 3 days.  She flew up to be with me during my mastectomy and help me once I was home.  She flew up while I was getting radiation.   She WANTED to come up during this recent reconstructive surgery, but I said NO ... she has a 3 children.   Enough is enough ...  I didn't want her to leave her family again.  She's an amazing Mama and wife.  Plus, she's a tramp.  

  Like how I threw that in? 

  But, she and her husband are coming up for the 3-Day walk in September.  Angi will walk.  Matthew will hang with Kevin and party way too much.   I'm gonna have to pay neighbors to make sure that the boys take care of my son, while my soul mate and I walk 60 miles to cure breast cancer.  

   Great!   We lose toenails, and all the guys lose is some excess water in their systems from drinking too much.  

  Assholes!   

  In any event, it's late.  I've been working for the cause and have had a few beers.  I'm going to bed now.  I don't remember where my husband parked the car ... 

  I'll tell you about getting caught up in a that karaoke bar later.  

Night...

  This is political.  If you're a staunch Republican and don't know me well,  this isn't the post for you.  Those that know me well and are staunch Republicans won't find this shocking.

  John Edwards just endorsed My Obama!  I think that's wonderful.   Most folks were banking on him endorsing Hillary.  I didn't know how it would turn out.  But, after actually seeing it on the news, John Edwards is backing Obama.  I'm thrilled.  I don't care if he's doing it in the hopes that he might be chosen as the Vice Presidential candidate.  I really don't.  I could care less, at this point, what pushes Obama to becoming the Democratic nominee.  I just want want him to be the one that runs against John McCain.  I Don't have a huge problem with the Republican candidate.  I, honestly, believe that he's a decent person.  I just don't subscribe to the conservative view point.  I have many beloved members of my family that do.  That's fine by me.  They are still my beloved family.  However, as a woman and a cancer survivor and an artist and an advocate for those that aren't heterosexual and those that are EXTREMELY pro-stem cell research and a person that believes in "LIFE, LIBERTY, AND THE PURSUIT OF HAPPINESS", I simply have to vote as a Democrat in this race.  I want the war to end as quickly as possible.  I know veterans of several different wars that are in total agreement.  Just our take.

   Obama is the "face of America."  He's a melting pot within himself.   Many races.  Many social situations.  Great education.

  I could care less that he's associated with a pastor that was hyped up and spewed nonsense.  How many of your  FRIENDS do that regularly and you still end up at their homes.  He, at least, addresses the topic earnestly and promptly.  It's brilliant.  I wish ALL politicians addressed the country's concerns and rumors so quickly and with such honesty.  WOW.  HONESTY.  THAT'S A NEW ONE FOR A POLITICIAN.

  I am certainly not saying that he's perfect.  I'm not saying that there will NOT be some drama to come.  However, I am saying that he's a great person to confront such situations.  He's an amazing orator.  George W. Bush should have taken lessons from Obama.  HELL, W SHOULD HAVE TAKEN LESSONS FROM SILAS.   How did he become our president for 8 years?  My 2 year old can pronounce nuclear ... that's a feat.

  In any case, it's a great night for me.  Glad to hear that things are coming to a head.  

  Hopefully someone will pop that zit that is this ridiculous Democratic primary and help it to smooth over and heal in preparation for the REAL battle.

  Please think.  Please vote.  Think of health care.  Think of our precious planet.  Think of women's rights.  Think of trying to find a way to get our war heros home in a timely manner.  I, like many struggling Americans,  know that money is an issue,. But I'd rather think about what is left after we have left this planet.  The money can wither or burn.  The rights, welfare, and longevity of those beings (animal, plant, or mineral) that we leave behind are what we truly need to focus on.   My blessed son happens to be one of those.  

   Man, that might just be the most serious post that you'll see on this blog ... ever.  I'm sure I'll eat those words.

  Tomorrow, I go to get heart scans and my Herceptin infusion.  

  I actually look forward to it.  Just another day spent with amazing people that are helping save my life.  They have become my friends/family.  They've been with me from the beginning. They were there when my hair was falling out and I was laughing about it.   They help keep me in "remission".   We, the breast cancer gals, prefer to call it NED:  No Evidence of Disease.  I guess remission is a touchy term.  I don't mind it, myself.   Semantics aside, all I want is clean and clear scans for another 60 years ... or until I can't appreciate a sunset.

  Good night dear readers.

  GO OBAMA!!!!!!!!!!!!!

   

Charming day ...

  Man, oh man.  What a fun day.  Silas and I began the day with bananas and Cheerios ... and 9:15 I sat down ... just kidding.  But it was a great day.

  I have two beautiful survivor girlfriends that are dealing with some real crap right now.  "E" is dealing with a new chemo regime, as she had a recurrence recently.  The chemo is strong.  I know it's going to kick her into remission.  But, in the process, she's taking a beating:  vomiting incessantly, in pain, exhausted.  By the way, she's raising two children.  "K" also had a recurrence. They discovered this last summer.  Since that time, she's been through the ringer:  chemo, new chemo, another new chemo, heart and kidney failure issues, pneumonia (2 times), hand foot syndrome.  By the way, she, too, is raising two children.

  Silas and I decided that our two pals could use some sunshine on this rainy day.  I spoke to my girlfriend Nicole who heads up Northwest Young Survivors.  I told her I was going to get some amazing bouquets of flowers on behalf of our support group.  Silas and I got hysterically funny cards and went down to Pike's Place Market and found 2 perfect bouquets.

  We hopped back in the car and delivered the flowers "ding dong ditch" style.  It was so funny.  I nearly fell down E's front steps trying to run to my car.  Hiding in it, I saw her father-in-law come out and not even notice the gigantic  heap of flowers at his feet.  I thought that I was going to have to yell from the car, "LOOK BEHIND YOU!"  But, he finally saw them.   I ran up to K's door, dropped of the flowers, knocked on the door, and AGAIN almost fell running down the front steps.  Watching and hiding in the car.  No one came to the door.  What?  The lights were on.  So, I called her.  She answered, "Hey Coochie, what's up?"  Sweet Coochie is my nickname in the group.  We all have them.   I said, "whatever you do, DO NOT GO LOOK ON YOUR FRONT PORCH!"  She, of course, did and was so happy to get her pretty flowers.

   It was fun to be able to brighten their days.

   Tonight, we had the honor of having dinner at University Place.  It's a, sort-of, retirement home.  However, it's the most stunning one I've ever seen.  We went there, as we were the guests of Dr. William Robertson.  Kevin works with him at Washington Poison Center.  If you've not heard of him, you certainly have heard of his brilliant work.  Dr. R was one of the pioneering doctors that created "poison centers."  HE INVENTED "MR. YUCK", the green sticker you put on toxic household items.   He's genius.  I cannot tell you how hysterical this man is.  While eating in the dining room - and being waited on hand and foot by servers - Silas, of course, began yelling loudly that he was Superman.  I said, "Silas, shooosh, please be quiet!"  Dr. R, between bites of smothered beef and mushrooms simply said, "It's okay ... we're the only ones here who aren't deaf!"   He is so funny.  He showed us his apartment.  It's a nice one-bedroom setup that is covered in stacks of books (neatly stacked), millions of pens, and millions of paper clips.  He collects pens and paper clips.  He tidied his pens and paper clips up for us before we came.  We talked about the ratio of men to women at his home:  80% women.  I told him that was great for him.  I said he must be beating them off with sticks.  He replied, "As long as I'm a person that's ALIVE and breathing, they'd find me attractive."  Touche.  I then began to talk to him about the virtues of having a pulse.  It's pretty attractive if you think about it.

  So, that was our charming day.  I was charmed by the smiles that I could imagine on my two dear friends' faces.  I was charmed that Silas and I had a wonderful "date" at Azteca ... and he was such a good boy.  Our server said that he's like a little man - my oncologist says that all the time.  I was charmed that I got to spend time with Dr. R.  He's such an amazing man and wonderful host.  The world is such a better place having a man like him (at 83) still looking out for all of us.

  I'm charmed that I have pulse!  Or, as my girlfriend Cho-Fro says (another nickname of ours), "I'm just glad I'm on this side of the dirt!"

Monday ...

  Greetings avid readers.  I cannot believe that the 3 of you are still around.

  Worked today.  Busy day.  Home tonight and am settling in for the evening.

  Recently, a huge drama was stirred up on a website of which I am a member.  It's for young breast cancer survivors.  It's full of such an amazing group of young women that are busy raising children, working hard, raising awareness, fighting this disease, healthy, not so healthy, all beautiful, and many needing to voice their great opinions. 

  A young woman, and new voice, on this site made a great post.  She headed her topic, "There is a God!"  She went on to post that she had wonderful news about her pathology and that she was simply thrilled to share that with the us.  She added that she wanted to find a way to help others out and wanted to find ways to volunteer and do that.  No sooner had she done that than another member posts a long and, in my eyes, selfish post.  The other member began her post with congratulations and referred her to organizations where the original poster might be needed.  That was great.

  Then, the other poster went on to "gently" scorn the poor gal for using the phrase "there is a God."  She, speaking to the original poster like she was a frickin' 5 year old, began this entire rant about how offended she was that this poor girl stated the afore mentioned phrase.  She was offended, apparently, as she was diagnosed at a later stage.  She thought that this person shouldn't have made a comment - that we all know is just a figure of speech - because it alienated people that didn't have such good news and it referenced their NOT having God on their side.  WAS SHE SMOKING SOME ILLEGAL SUBSTANCE AT SAID TIME?  The self-righteous poster decided that, in viewing our happy gal's comments, that she was crapping on those that didn't have quite that good of a prognosis.  It was an unbelievably selfish post that took the wind out of a that happy lady's sails.  I was just as kicked in the gut by that passive aggressive post as the person that instigated the passive aggressive post.  BOLLUCKS.

  I was diagnosed at a LATER stage than said selfish poster.  I was not offended by our happy gal.  I guess I don't have as much time on my hands to sit around a think about how I can turn other people's comments around to satisfy my personal agendas.  I guess that not everything has to end up being about me and my strife.  It's life.  It sucks.  We all deal with some personal tragedy.  No one likes it.  And, mine is no worse than most others.  Set yourself straight lady.  Get out of your head and look into your HEART.

  It's shameful and filthy to try to set yourself above someone that feels higher than the clouds at such wonderful news.  Screw semantics.  It's a figure of speech.  Guess the next time that I say "I'll be damned if I shop at *$#@ store again", I'll have to watch out ... God might strike my ass down if I back down and end up going there when there's a sale!

  Now, I'm climbing off the soap box and going to bed.

    

Silas and Kevin were guests in a private suite at the Mariners game last night.  It was, apparently, amazing.  Free food.  Free booze.  Bird's eye view of home plate.  Private balcony.  The Mariner Moose, actually, made his way up from the field to hang out with Silas!

HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY MAMA!

   As I explained to Mama yesterday, I failed to stay on top of things and get cards for the majority of mamas in my life.  Man, I'm an idiot.  You'd think the 14,000 Mother's Day commercials last week would have clued me in.  Damned chemo-brain.  Another perk of cancer:  it, and all of its treatments, are fantastic excuses for ANYTHING.  "Ma'am, do you know why I pulled you over?" ... "No, officer.  Honestly, I was way too busy trying to make sure these horribly mutilated breasts, that are actually portions of other parts of my poor little body due to a flaming case of the breast cancer, were even.  WAS I SPEADING??!!"  Honestly, I've not done that ... YET.  But, I digress...

  My mom's a dreamy gal.  She's the lady that came up to Seattle after I had Silas and slept on our cheap fold-out sofa for 6 weeks, just so I could go back to work AND not have a breakdown that I'd have to leave my baby with a stranger.  She's the woman that took a lot of time off of work and flew up here last month to take care of me AND Silas after my recon surgery.  She's a single woman and a teacher ...  I THINK WE CAN DIDUSE THAT SHE'S NOT RAKING IN HEAPS OF CASH (George Bush is a  jackass ... did I just say that?).   She's the woman I think of when I get homesick.  She's the one that I think of when I see beautiful women in black and white photos.  My mama has every one of them beat.   Stop showing me how pretty your mother was in high school.  It's only going to turn out badly for you!!!  

   My Mama use to fence!  That's right!  En guard!  How f-ing COOL is that?!  

   My Mama can cook the meanest soul food you've tasted.  Growing up on that, I'm surprised I'm not 300 pounds. 

   My mama speaks and laughs louder than ME.  That is truly an amazing feat!

   My mama wet her pants from laughter at the Olympic Game Forest when Silas (then 16 months) punched a llama in the face for trying to take the bread he was supposed to be feeding the poor llama.  My son is obsessed with food.

   My mama is an amazing dancer.  Girl's got the beat.

   My mama is a stellar teacher.

   My mama is an amazing kisser ... in a motherly sort of way you perverts!

   My mama is SO UNBELIEVABLY STRONG.  I think her spirit is virtually unbreakable.

She is just the greatest mother on this planet.  I'm so blessed to be able to call her "Mama."  I'm so blessed to be able to call her my dear friend.  I'm so blessed to be on this planet just to see her face when she looks at my son.  That's even more beautiful than those old black and white photos.

   I love you Mama!  "I lover you tho much, tho much, tho much....."

p.s.  See how I snuck that peeing your pants thing in?!  I had to share it with the world.  I know you'll understand.

  

   

Park Pics

Here some pics of the park.  The rest are too graphic for Mother's Day.  Plus, my mama surely checks this blog at work.  She's a 3rd grade teacher.  Don't wanna get her fired.  Hope they don't find out about that vodka she hides in the bottom left-hand drawer of her desk!

At the park...

Today was the kind of day that reminds me why I live in Seattle.  Spring and Summer here are astounding.  The cherry trees, the smell of the ocean, the sunshine ... it's gorgeous.  I don't work on Fridays.  My co-worker and dear friend Heather doesn't work on Fridays.  Our sons are best buddies.  So, we typically spend, at least, part of Friday together.

Today, we took a ferry to Bainbridge Island.  I love Bainbridge.  It's quite populated, but it's mostly covered in forests.  It's just loverly.  If I had the money, I'd live there.  Great schools, slow paced lifestyle, surrounded by water:  my dream.  

We were pointed in the direction of this park that we'd never heard of.  After getting lost, backtracking, laughing, boys sleeping, grabbing a bottle of wine that we'd drink out of a coffee cup (we're serious about enjoying time at the park!), we found IT.  I kid you not ... THIS WAS THE MOST ASTOUNDING PARK I'VE EVER SEEN.  The entire play structure was huge.  It's built of wood and is massive.  The kids climb up and they follow trails that lead to towers, tunnels, slides, ropes, games, huge xylophones, mirrors ... it's nuts!  We also found amazing structures that happened to be art.  I'll post the pictures that Heather and I took of those when I can figure out how to download them - Kevin's asleep.  We took it upon ourselves to pose, provocatively, with the art.  We had a ball.  I wish the other parents could have enjoyed the park as much as us.

Then, we walked over to the soccer field.  No one was there.  I brought a bunch of Silas' balls for the boys.  After playing for a bit, Marco (Heather's son) said to me, "I wanna get nekkid!"  He said this to ME, as my house tends to be the house where all the kids end up naked and blowing bubbles and eating nachos and watching Madagascar.  So, we took his clothes off.  By that time, Silas, who was half-naked anyway (in only a diaper and tee-shirt), came over to take HIS clothes off.   The boys begin running around the soccer field - naked and screaming.   Meanwhile, we realize that there is a path for walkers that loops around the whole park.  So, as walkers go by, the boys are running around, peeing (and peeing, and peeing), screaming, kicking balls, and laughing-HARD.  Heather and I are sipping our "coffee" and doing gymnastics, as we'd just learned that we both had done that for years as girls.  We've been friends for so long and we NEVER knew that.  So, after a few hand stands and back walk-overs, we notice that the boys are squatting.  Well, apparently, as we were bonding over hand stands, the boys were trying to bond over bowel movements.   Fortunately, they don't have strong enough diaphragms to do this on cue.  We collected them and made it back to car, caught the ferry, came back home, met up with Kevin, and shared a pizza and some more wine at my house ... Marco, again, ended up coming to me and saying, "hey Anna, I wanna get nekkid."  Okay.

It was a great day.  It was a beautiful day.

   I also got my Mother's Day gift.  Silas and Kevin got me a gorgeous ring that is a marquee cut. It's Silas' birthstone: aquamarine.  It's so light and dainty and perfect.  A gorgeous Mother's Day ring from my boys  ...  EVEN MORE BEAUTIFUL THAN OUR DAY AT THE PARK!

Day as a proud Mama...

  Well, we all knew it would come down to this.  I'm bragging about my son.  If you're reading this, you've chosen to be here.  So, you knew, at some point, I'd be a doting Mama.

   Went to get Silas' hair cut at my salon on Tuesday.  It's my day off.   So, Heather, my co-worker and mother to Silas' best buddy Marco, cut his hair.

   Silas loves going to the salon.  My co-workers are some of the best folks on this planet.  I consider some of them family.  Most salons can't profess to have that dynamic.  Lots of drama in salons.  As an actor, I use to find the drama in salons funny.  Now, I find it absolutely ridiculous.  We're not saving lives.  We're not curing horrible diseases.  We're doing your f-ing hair.  However, we DO make people feel amazing.  We DO let people vent AND get pretty.  So, it's like going to the psychiatrist and going to the "beautician" for half the price.   I've called it "Hairapy" for years ... then, that damned commercial came out ... the one for the grocery store product.  I should have trademarked that.

   In any case, we got Silas' hair cut.  I've been the only person to cut it thus far.  But, I just wanted a break and to sit and watch Heather work her magic.  She did such a wonderful job.  She treats Silas like he's her own son, so he just sat there sucking on a lollypop while she cut his hair.  He listened to me when I told him to sit still or keep his head straight.  He listened to Heather and me when we told him to sit still and look in the mirror.  He waved at clients as they came in.  He said "please" and "thank you" to everyone, when appropriate.  He was such a good guy.  

   Today, my coworker Ann said, "Silas was so cute, getting his hair cut.  You're an amazing Mama.  You just go with the flow.  You're so mellow and not thrown by anything."  I've NEVER in my life gotten a better compliment.  I've never been so happy and proud.  I've been blessed with this boy.  MY son tells me "Mama, I wanna go night, night."  My son eats all of the best foods in the world:  fruits, veggies, whole grains ... blah, blah, blah!  He eats more than Kevin and I do.  He's like a frickin' goat.    And, he's still a tiny thing.  I guess that's the reward when you've had a child that had colic for the first 3 months of his life.  I'm not kidding.  I could NOT leave my house for 3 months without preparing to explain why my child was screaming for NO reason.

  I've been through some silly stuff.  I've faced some shitty circumstances.  I'm proud that I've made it through all that stuff and laughed the whole time.  I've been told how strong I am for having cancer and being so strong and keeping my sense of humor.    Well, I figure, if you have a sense of humor, it's all about breeding and how you were raised.  Don't compliment me.  Compliment my family and friends that have helped make the person that I am today.  But, the most wonderful compliment that I've EVER gotten is "you're an amazing Mama."   I find it hard to imagine that I could EVER hear something more beautiful.   

    By the way, the first time my father, "Pappy", met Silas, he said "you're a wonderful Mama."  I cried like a damned baby hearing that, as no one had ever told me that.   I guess I had never felt so proud THAT day too.

Eastwick ...

Just wanted to share with you two amazing women that are my "life partners".  As a temporary lesbian, I choose these 2 ladies, Chocha and K-dawg, to be 2 of my most dear and crazy life partners.   Between the 3 of us, we have 1 real breast and 2 fake ones.  It's like pin the tail on the donkey.  We'll play the game as long as you serve us Jack and Diet Coke!

Day ... as a lesbian

Well, I mean I'm not.  But I was yesterday.  You see, I live in Seattle.  The cost of living here is off the charts.  So, one must do what it takes to survive.  Silas and I decided to go to the aquarium with my girlfriend Heather yesterday.  While waiting in line we were reading the "packages" that the aquarium offers.  Ends up, if you have 2 adults, and add 4 kids,  and 1 more "guest" adult, you can get a $90.00 package for the year.  Well, that's all I needed to see.  Heather and I decided that it would work out best if we were "Life Partners" as she and I were the only 2 adults there that day to sign up.  That left Kevin (my "brother" and our "Manny") as the "guest adult."  Silas and Marco (Heather's son) would be our sons.  That left 2 more children.  Well, hell's bells, all my other girlfriends have 2 kids.  So, for the package, we could bring a gaggle of people in ... the extra 2 ended up being my "step children" that I have partial custody of - from my first marriage.  Well, you cannot just go in there with all that drama without committing.  Heather and I, at that point, decided it was best to cover our asses.  Hand in loving hand we walked up to the desk.  As she was asking about the packages, I was the most tender and supportive partner you can imagine:  rubbing her back, holding her purse, reminding Silas to call her "Mommy" and me "Mama."   It was brilliant.  I swear the high school boy that registered us will have a story to tell for the rest of his life.    The look on his face, as I was describing the family dynamics, was priceless.   He looked at us like he was looking at a rabid lion only 3 feet away.  Part excitement, part confusion, part "oh my God!"  Needless to say, when Kevin takes the boys he's going to end up having to explain why the gay uncle keeps being called "Daddy" by Silas.  I'm sure he'll come up with something.  Hell, he pulled the wool over MY eyes!

If anyone would like to join us, I'd be glad to create a character for you.  If "Uncle Kevin" can't make it, and you're a woman, I'll be sure to add that Uncle Kevin simply decided to embrace his true identity:  Voila, you're a transexual!  How simple and painless was that?!!!!!  

  I certainly don't want to offend anyone that's gay or transexual.  I have many friends that happen to be both.  Having told this story to my co-worker and dear friend Travis, I think that I have steered clear of that.  After Travis laughed hysterically at my day, he asked if his partner Kevin and he could use Silas as a prop sometime.  Heck Yeah!!!!   FINALLY, MY SON IS GOING TO EARN HIS KEEP!!!

Laugh...

  This is too funny NOT to share with all 2 of you dedicated readers.  Thanks again Mama and Dad.  

  So, I just received an e-mail from an old friend from The College of Charleston, my alma mater.  He contacted me to check in and see what I was up to.  Needless to say, I'm thinking that he needs to contact ol' Dionne Warwick over at the "Psychic Friends Network" and see if they are hiring:

   "Crazy as Hell Anna Warren.  Since you're still alive, you either had a few close calls

     and got lucky or you calmed down.  LOL.  I would be willing to bet you had a few close

     calls and you are still as insane as I remember."

   Um ... THAT is hysterical.  This cancer thing keeps getting funnier and funnier!  I was laughing my nuts and bolts off after reading that.  Even more hysterical was his response after I told him how insightful he was and that I didn't have boobs and all.  I could only imagine him sitting at that computer with his jaw on his lap.  Poor thing wrote back about putting his "foot in his mouth."  I assured him that with all of that insight, he should have know I'd be laughing at the situation.  

  I guess I forgot my memories of myself.  I guess not much changes.   Those friends of mine that didn't know me then ... those that know me now ... would probably say the same thing.  I guess I should have seen this coming.  After all, it's in my nature to bob and weave through bad luck, sticky situations, and mild to moderate crises.  At least I've done it with flare.  Just like Liberace.  Only I'm heterosexual AND a woman.

  I should have known that if I looked through the peep-hole, there would stand that dreaded neighbor.  You know, the one that disputes the actual property line between your homes.  The one that wants to take what is wholly yours for himself.  The one that mars and scars your property for naught.  Mr. Cancer, I'm not moving, this is my home.  I don't give a crow's craw what you did to my property line.  As a matter of fact, I'm gonna make it better than before.  I'll build a wall of beautiful roses, and willows, and peonies, and dahlias, and corn (I like corn), and sweet peas, and the beautiful rocks and friends that I've collected, and photos of my family, and cards that strangers have sent me.  That way you'll never forget what's mine is mine.   And I'll never have to see your nasty mug again!   HOLLER!!!!

  

2 years ... but, look what I got in return!

No words today, just my Mo giving a "fish kiss."  My kid's definitely cuter than yours!

Process ...

  So, the past couple of days have rendered many questions about my breast reconstruction process.  It's completely understandable, as women my age rarely need to go through it.  So, I'm gonna do my best to explain the whole shebang to you.

   When I was diagnosed on October 6th of 2006, there was no question that I was going to have a to have a mastectomy on my right side.  I also had to have all my lymph nodes removed on that side -  3 of the 20 were cancerous.   It's sad that I found this when my baby was 6 months old.  It's great that having a baby made my breasts a size E.  They contained a lot of mess.  The tumor itself was 5 centimeters of invasive ductal carcinoma (cancer, cancer).  Surrounding that was 10 centimeters of Ductal carcinoma In-Situ (pre-cancer).  I was stage 3A at diagnosis.  NOT GOOD.  After chemo, I knew that I'd be doing radiation, so reconstruction wasn't going to happen until, at least, 6 months after that.  Radiation kills EVERYTHING.  Your skin and muscle are forever atrophied.   So, it makes recon a huge process.

  There are several ways to go about reconstruction after mastectomy and radiation.  Some women are able to move tissue from their tummies or asses up to their chest.  The great thing is that you get a make-over and insurance has to pay ... again, Cancer has some perks.  As for me, I didn't have enough fat in those areas to move.  So, women like me end up having to do what's called a Lat-Flap.  A plastic surgeon, essentially, removes portions of your back tissue and lat muscle and tunnels it around your side.  They, then, attach the muscle to your chest muscle and graft the skin onto the mastectomy site.  This is done because the chest needs to be expanded.  Radiation renders your site so tight that there is no way it could be expanded (in preparation for implants) unless there is extra skin.    

  I, also, decided to remove the other breast ... the "unaffected" side.  I'm happy to rid my life of "real" breasts.  I don't want breast tissue or anything resembling it in my body.

   I'm not a person that has extra funds.  I knew that I'd need to take time off of work.  So, I decided to do all my surgeries at one time.  Thus, I had my general surgeon - a hot little number (and brilliant surgeon) named Christine Lee do the prophylactic mastectomy.  She did my original surgery and she's amazing.  My plastic surgeon, Wandra Miles, then took over and performed the lat-flap surgery.  She implanted the "expanders" on both sides in preparation for the implant exchange.  That will happen in October, I think.  

  The expanders are there for 5 months.  I go to my plastic surgeon's office to get them injected with saline weekly, for 10 weeks.  Then, they sit for 3 months so my skin and muscle settles and gets use to them.  In October, they will be removed and replaced with implants.

  Funny thing is, I will have no nipples.  So, I'll have "Barbie boobs" until the skin heals and the implants settle.

  After 3 months time, the surgeon will do what's called  a "twist and stitch" procedure.  She clips tissue in the middle of the breast and pinches/twists and stitches it together to create a nipple.  After that heals, they will tattoo the aureola on.

  The whole process takes around 12 months ... maybe 15.  I'm scarred, but that will fade.

  I've had friends say, "You're like the bride of Frankenstein."  Or, I've heard, "You look like a quilt!"  All of these just slay me!  It's so funny.  I love to see the looks on people's faces when they ask to see my "canvas."  That's what I've been calling it.  This is progressive and there is no way to tell whether or not the hard work will pass or fail.  I don't know if all this hard work will pay off or if it will atrophy or scar up or get incapsulated.  I am a work in progress.  But, cancer aside, aren't we all?   

  

Week ...

I've decided to create a blog.  I'm not really the "blog type."  As much as I adore the interweb, I loathe reading blogs about people's daily routines, A-Z.  I don't think that is what a blog should be.  So, I'll write here and there.  I'll write about fairly pertinent things.  I'll ramble.  I will be the first to admit that I will go off on a tangent.  I was known as "Rose" in college - a kind referral to my favorite Golden Girl.  But, I won't tell you what color eye shadow I wore today.  By the way, I didn't wear any.  So, I'll start off with a brief synopsis of my life now:

  I'm Anna.  Nee Dorcas Anna Warren.  My married name is Anna Warren Schumacher.  That's what my social security card says, at least.  Now, if you're planning on stealing my identity, I would welcome that.  You'd be doing me more than a million favors.  I've got quite the history of bad luck.   I guess I SHOULD believe in karma, but ...

  I'm an extremely happy person.   I'm cynical, but happy.  I'll crack a joke at the most inopportune time and chances are only myself and the most pathetic other person in the room will laugh.  I'm a mama, a wife, a relative of and friend to many beautiful people, an actress, a hair stylist, an amateur marine biologist, and a breast cancer survivor.  The breast cancer thing will definitely be a large part of this blog, but it will NOT be the whole blog. 

  This week was a doozy.  I went through reconstructive surgery 3 weeks ago:  the most major in a series of surgeries that will render me a virtual Playmate of the Year.  Cancer DOES have its perks!  All went well.  I was planning on getting back to the salon on Wednesday, but unfortunately my precious little boy Silas ended up in the ER the same day as a result of a horrible virus.  After receiving bags of fluids that quickly made their way south all over the ER table, they had to admit him.  By the way, I'm not the type that edits clinical stuffs.  In any event, we ended up on the pediatric floor in isolation.  Funny thing was, it was just like any other room.  The only difference was the nurses and doctors entered the room wearing yellow smocks and gloves and sanitized everything.  We thought it was a hoot.  Kevin, my dear husband, and I were laughing at it until poor Silas got wise to the damned smocks.   As soon as they walked in he turned into Cujo.  The boy is half southern by the way.  

   Needless to say, after his temperature dropped, he was well hydrated, and I "accidentally" dropped everything that contained latex, cotton, or metal into our suitcase, we were sent home.  He's doing just fine now.  Fine enough that when I tell him to make sure he drinks his water, he tells me to "No!  Drink your beer, mama."  Bless Jesus, he's healed!