Saturday, July 30, 2011

Dear Friend

Dear the next person who tells me this is just temporary, and in 5 years I'll look back on this and see all the good things that came from it and be just oh-so-grateful;

I hate you. We are no longer friends, and I'm sending you somewhere you can get leprosy.

Love, Rosanne

Wednesday, July 27, 2011

An Actual Conversation That Took Place

This was the way I had planned to announce the pregnancy on the blog. I found it in the archives, and thought it was too clever to pass up. Enjoy!



Thought sound bits might make it be more realistic.




Rosanne:



Chris :

Rosanne:

Chris: !


Rosanne: . !


Chris: . ??

Rosanne: ?!?






Note: Only the words have been changed. Some of them, anyway.

Saturday, July 23, 2011

At Least I Don't Have A Flesh Eating Disease

Because what do you do when your protective organ fails and you're stuck with innards exposed to the imminent death lurking in the bacteria in the...air? HOW DID TWO FACE DO IT????




No picture today. You can imagine that one all on your own.

Wednesday, July 20, 2011

The Case of the Asexual Watermelon

Let it be known henceforth that I. Love. Watermelon.

Summer has barely been in full swing for two weeks and I think I have eaten four. By myself. That's whole watermelons. It's like bloody candy for me, and I could be wrong, but I think there are worse addictions out there.

So it's no surprise that I don't even have to ask Chris anymore I'd like him to pick up one for me when he goes to the store. (This was a day or so after the surgery, so I was going nowhere near the grocery store, or obviously I'd be the one doing the shopping. It's my duty.) He left it on the counter, and I waited for my appetite to return to normal to start digging in.

But, what's this? Suddenly, we find, not one, but two (2) watermelons crowding our shelves. Watermelons, I mean, they're big melons, see? Hard to miss. So, how'd we miss that there was an extra one on our shelves? We tried to remember everyone who had come to visit, and what they had brought with them, and how in Hades we had missed a large fruit being placed on our shelves! This stuff is like gold - you pay attention!

Well, we decided to just accept that there is obviously a God, for someone to be bestowing such gifts on us without our notice must have been nothing short of divine. We cut up the first one, and let the rest sit in our fridge, as its offspring sat on our kitchen table.

A day or so later, my friend Liz stopped by, and during our casual conversation, she saw the watermelon and said, "Oh, is that the watermelon I dropped by the other day?"

"Wait - what? When did you bring that by?" I clearly remember being conscious every time she's entered my apartment in the last week.

"Remember after I spent the night at your house 'cause I was babysitting you, and I left my toothbrush, and came in to pick it up when you guys were in the shower? I yelled and told you I was here, then quickly left?"

(This is the second time she's walked into our apartment when we've been in the shower. No joke. HOWEVER, showering together not only saves us on hot water, but I was still unable to
hold myself upright for more than 37.3 seconds. Don't be dirty.)

"Shut UP! You brought it in then?!?! Seriously???" I honestly couldn't believe it had been so simple.

"Yeah! I left it by the camera lens cap I needed to return! I thought you'd figure it out!"

I was baffled. The case was solved, and I can't lie, I was a little disappointed that Gabriel himself hadn't strutted into our kitchen and placed it on our table when we were turned the other way.

So, Liz, I guess to keep myself entertained, I'm going to have to tell myself that you were, in fact a heavenly messenger. Which means I still have your toothbrush.


Monday, July 18, 2011

Geico and Insurance

This one time, I was checking in at a doctor's appointment (shocker!), and for a long time before that, I hadn't had my insurance card - I did once, lost it, then, FINALLY at this appointment I had it again!

I expected the question, but I butted in before they could say anything and said, "Hey guys! I have really great news!"

"Oh yeah? What's that?"

"....I saved a bunch of money by switching to Geico!"

It seemed so dull to preface such an exciting announcement, i.e. bringing my insurance card...wait, no. That's not exciting.

I obviously needed to spice things up.

I was simply learning from the master. Like when Michael Scott told the branch that everyone got $1000. He was lying, but for that moment, he had them.

I was simply captivating my audience.

Friday, July 15, 2011

"It's you to a T, my beauty. My amazin'."


Chris and I lay in my hospital bed because I'm in a lot of pain and I wanted some consolation, and I can't imagine that the recliner is too much of a relief for him.

So I ask Chris, Will you please scratch my back? And tell me a story and/or sing me a song?

He consented, and began a song with lyrics he must have made up to a tune I'd never heard. It was something about beards and how friends think he's weird for having one and who knows what else because my memory can't be trusted nowadays. But he says he was going to work in that it's ok that his friends don't like it because I do.

The nurse interrupted us, and while she was checking my vitals, Chris looked up lyrics to a song he says describes how he feels about me. He starts singing a capella Bruno Mars' "Just The Way You Are," and because I've been holding in my emotions for a few days I start bawling on the spot.

He's right, too. I don't believe him when he compliments me, or when he tells me he wouldn't change a thing about me. I'm not quite as kind. And I may not hate my laugh, but he finds it sexier than I do.

We get to the lyric, "her hair, her hair, falls perfectly, without her trying," and amidst my sobs, I laugh and say, "That line is going to have a whole new meaning in the next few weeks," referring, of course, to me losing my hair from the chemo.

I return the favor, and we listen to Josh Turner's, "I Wouldn't Be A Man," which reminds me of him perfectly. And I can never resist his seee....sssseeeeeee.......eeeee...xxxxxxxxx.....yyy....yyyyyy.......yyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy........


(Sorry. I just melted.)

*cough* His sexy bass. I literally shiver when he goes deep. (That's what she said) So we listen, then the related videos of Josh Turner and we get to "Why Don't We Just Dance," and Chris shimmies and shakes and asks if I want to dance, to which I of course reply, "no," because I have tubes hooked up my wazoo and I can't barely get up to pee, and then I remember that I have the bed controls, so I say, "ok," and start moving the head and the legs of the bed up and down, so we are, in effect, dancing. He got a real kick out of that, and couldn't stop laughing for quite a while.

I really am the funniest person I know.

He really does tell me I'm beautiful every day.



PS that beautiful lady at the top is my good friend Sarah Clark. She is a fabulous model and an extraordinary person

Tuesday, July 12, 2011

Grandma's Firewater

I have to get more CT/MRI scans tomorrow.

They're going to make me drink the Devil's Juice again.

I don't mean to be dramatic*, but....

This might be my last blog post.

I don't know if I can survive that again.








*I'm being ironic. Of course I meant to be dramatic.

Monday, July 11, 2011

Why I need to vote for Mr. Huntsman


So. Presidential elections are coming. In 16 months. Which means everyone who wants to run has to announce that they're going to announce that they're going to run.

Recently, Jon Huntsman decided that he would love to be a part of some of that action - I mean, who wouldn't? Well, as some of you know, recently I stayed a couple nights at the Huntsman Cancer Hospital during and after my surgery, and wouldn't you know it? I stayed in the very room that Jon Huntsman himself donated to the hospital! I don't think it makes THAT much of a difference, if it's all daddy's money in the end, but STILL.

Therefore, Jon Huntsman, Jr. (almost) cured me of my (almost) cancer. I would be ungrateful not to vote for him.

Friday, July 8, 2011

Why I'm Basically Postpartum

My HCG levels went up post-surgery, and we're going to try another chemo - a mix of 5, to be exact - before we jump into another surgery. Hooray!

This post is TMI. You have been warned.

These are the reasons I'm pretty much postpartum, at least from what I hear from talking to mothers.

  • I was in the hospital for 2 days
  • My privates were cut open, just like a c-section.
  • I can't drive for two weeks
  • I can't lift anything over 10 lbs for two weeks
  • I will be "normal" in 6
  • I have to take stool softener
  • I am bleeding like crazy, and it's not my period
  • They took stuff out of my uterus
  • Peeing hurts sometimes
  • My abs are shot
  • Nothing in my va-jay-jay for six weeks

Now WHERE THE HELL IS MY F*%&ING BABY?!?!?!?!?!

Tuesday, July 5, 2011

How have I not mentioned how funny I am?

Listen. I know literally all my posts lately are about medical things. And it gets boring.

But it's literally all. I. do.

It really is like having a baby, in that it takes up a ton of your time, thought energy -

but I'm ahead of myself. This is about funny chemo!!!!

I should start out by saying that I have a red birth mark the size of Texas on my right leg. It's impossible to miss if you see me in anything shorter than pants. Whenever people ask about it, I generally tell them the truth, but when I'm feeling particularly adventurous, I tell them it's from a burn when I was younger, or I pretend like I've never seen it before, and they freak out, and I'm a horrible liar so then I tell them the truth and we all have a good laugh.

Ok, so for my first infusion appointment - when they changed from my first drug to my second drug, and I had to sit there and they pushed the chemo into an IV - the nurse was getting my medical history as far as the cancer was concerned, and she asked about any radiation I've had since the cancer started.

"So, what about any rashes since you've started radiation? Have those been bad? Are they gone?"

As I was telling her I hadn't done any radiation, a better idea came into my mind.

"You mean, something like this?" And I pulled up the blanket covering my leg.

I cannot fully express the joy that I felt as I watched her face go from confusion, to shock, to horror, to more confusion as I started laughing. And laughing.

It's little things like that that make me happy.

Sunday, July 3, 2011

What do I do?


But what I want now is advice from any of you who have had c-sections. That's pretty much what I went through, and I'm almost completely post-partum, without the baby. I can't really walk on my own, I'm not allowed to lift anything over 10 lbs for two weeks, no driving for at least two weeks - longer if I'm still on meds - and I'm sorry if this is TMI but I am bleeding worse than a period - guys I seriously just gave birth. To a tumor. (We went with Penelope.)

But now, because of the extent of the surgery/damage, I will have to have c-sections for all my babies. It's something about the chances of rupturing, and if you've had a c-sec before, your chances of rupturing during labor next time are less than 1%. If you've had something like more than one c-sec, your chances are 1-5%, and if you've had some of your uterus extracted and therefore shrunk, such as in the case of Yours Truly, the chances of your uterus rupturing in another labor are more than 5% (closer to 10-20%).

So. There's no way we're taking that chance, and I trust the doctors, and I can't say that I'm....disappointed by this development, per se, but I will say that it's a trip higher than Percocet to think that something's going to be one way your whole life - say, that you'll have your hoo-ha ripped open by multiple babies, you gear yourself up, try to find the positives - then, suddenly, someone tells you that's never ever an option, but instead they're going to slice your abs apart, staple you back together and call it good.

That entire paragraph was one sentence.

So any advice you have is appreciated. 'Cause this is gonna take some getting used to, and some prepping in a whole other way.

PS Is that not the creepiest painting you've ever seen? I couldn't not use it. The star is from me. For propriety.

Friday, July 1, 2011

Breaking News: Hospitals aren't always bad!

Doctor's appt today: test results were inconclusive. We'll see what happens next week!

Remember when I said that if you get cancer, you should do it in Utah? The sole reason for this is because of the Huntsman Cancer Institute, part of the complex of hospitals that belong to the University of Utah Medical School, and was made possible by Jon Huntsman, Sr. - not the man now running for president oh-twelve.

This place is the business. They take care of their own. If you are an outpatient, the nurses are friendly and fun, and the doctors are informative and considerate. Even if they give me crap for going to their rival school.

The real fun is if you get inpatient care. Man, if you're lucky enough to get surgery for your condition, they pull out all the stops. First, you get a whole room to yourself, in a hospital that is probably teeming with people in need. They don't downsize just to make more room for more patients, ergo more money. Every room has a big screen TV, a nice view (it's hard not to when they're on top of a mountain), a pull out loveseat, virtually no limits on visiting hours, and a list of movies that you can order from at any time of the day. To watch on your big screen TV.

Also, did I mention the food? The first thing I asked about when I knew I'd be staying there for more than a day was how the food was. They have a bistro on the 6th floor we'd been to quite a few times, and it was delish. The nurse said the hospital food was better.

"How is it done?" I asked.

She said they call in from local restaurants. They bring in food from chefs around town, and they give as much of it to the patients as they want!

It was all awesome.

You should try it. NO! Scratch that. Don't try it.

But if you have to, try to find a place that is as good to you as mine was. You need love in a time like that.