"The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results." ~Benjamin Franklin

In my eleven years as a wife and mother, I've come to the conclusion that all wives/moms must be insane. We spend all day doing dishes only to find full sinks before we head off to bed. We fold mounds of laundry only to find full laundry baskets the next day. We pick up shoes, hang up jackets, vacuum, dust and clean bathrooms just to find everything back how we found it before we set out to clean it.
It's been a whole month since I started Week One of my Rita Project (I know, I know). I knew my resolution to boost energy and get healthy was going to be one of the hardest parts of my project, but I had no idea that it would take everything I had to just get the ball rolling and keep it in a straight line.
I never realized how much I used food to "feel better." When I would get behind on housework, I'd suggest eating out for two reasons: 1) the food would be good and I wasn't the one cooking it and 2) no additional mess! So if the kitchen was clean, I'd suggest dinner out so it might actually stay that way. Avoid insanity.
I was also really bad about using food to calm my nerves. Life in the military is stressful, to say the least, and when everything that civilians take for granted as "constants" in their lives are constantly changing in ours, food was my "constant." Food and family. I can't think of anything more comforting and reassuring than sitting down with Chris and the kids around the dinner table to smoked pork ribs or pulled pork sandwiches, mac-n-cheese (the baked kind with the crusty top) and a cold glass of sweet tea to wash it down. No matter what bad news came or what plans changed, after dinner I'd be calm and would be able to say to myself, "Everything is going to be ok." And what about when something would hit the fan in the middle of the day and there were no ribs or roasts in the smoker? That's easy! Dr. Pepper to the rescue! It cures knotted stomachs, massive migraines and rattled nerves. Pair it with a big bag of cinnamon bears or Twizzlers and you have the worlds cheapest, most readily available anti-anxiety/anti-depressant.
But the ultimate obstacle I have faced is the reason why America as a whole struggles with obesity and poor health: being fit and healthy takes time . . . and money. In order to reap the full benefits of fruits and veggies, they have to be consumed raw, fresh and organic.  Organic in general is more expensive than the food that's been chemically treated with preservatives and pesticides. But buying fresh and organic means that, until you establish a new grocery shopping routine, you're going to be throwing out a lot of limp veggies. Add to that the cost (time and money) of driving to the grocery store three times a week. Sure we save money by not buying meats and dairy products, but until we figure out this new lifestyle (how long things last, what tastes good and what we just can't bring ourselves to eat), we'll be putting money in the garbage in the form of dead veggies. On top of the food itself, there are all these new things I had to buy to prepare the food. No more pots and pans, but instead we had to buy a mandolin slicer, a heavy duty food processor, a juicer and a wok. All I have to say is thank goodness for Ikea : )
We already broke our juicer, by the way. We can't afford the good ones, so we had to buy the best we could for under $100. Needless to say, I don't think you can actually buy a good juicer for under $100 and actually use it every day.
So where was I . . . . oh yes, time and money. Money for better quality food that will eventually even out once we learn how to plan better and aren't filling our cart with staples like nutritional yeast and grape seed oil. Money we'll save when we can eventually fork over the $2,500 for a Norwalk juicer. Spend now, save later (I could fill my closet with Fluevog's for less than that, but that's ok). And TIME, oh my goodness. Making humus takes over 24 hours doing it the right way. Pizza takes even longer. I've never been good at planning meals, so I've nearly thrown in the towel several times and just driven to McD's after realizing at 4pm that the dinner I want to fix takes eight hours to prepare.
And that's just the food part. Being fit is a whole other ball game. One big advantage of living on a large military installation is a free gym with free childcare. But they certainly don't make it easy to access.
One thing you should know about me is that, with exercise, motivation doesn't come naturally. And when motivation does come, I have to seize it and start using it immediately or it will fizzle and die, never to be heard from again. I was blessed with motivation in the form of a friend inviting me to spinning class last week. I didn't even know they offered it! I was super stoked and ready to jump right in, but . . . oh wait . . . my kids weren't registered with CYS (Child & Youth Services). If you're military, you're probably like "WHAT?! That's the FIRST thing you do when you move!" Yes, I know the only way for military kids to do ANYTHING is to register with CYS

Time. . . money. . . patience. . . persistence.

Let it go.
Do it now.

Told you those commandments would come in handy. . . I got this : )

Schedule, Shmedule

At one point, I had about six different calendars in my house. Chris hated it, always being reminded of how busy we are, so I consolidated and now only have one monthly and one weekly calendar, both of which aren't really calendars at all. My monthly calendar is on my computer, which I love because I can color-code everything without fear of misplacing my one purple pen that Annabelle insisted would be HER color. Another great thing about having your calendar on the computer is that you can, with just one click of the mouse, make it disappear all together. Even though you're fully aware of all the goings-on that are right around the corner, there's no big giant reminder burning your eyeballs every time you glance in its direction.

My weekly calendar is also not a traditional calendar, but instead a big dry erase board that my lovely husband made to look all professional, with days-of-the-week columns and blocks for each member of our little household. This is the calendar that gets a little nuts at times. I write down everything from daily chores to school work assignments on it. I'm pretty sure Chris hates this one, but I did him and favor and blocked it from his normal line of sight with a bookshelf. To be honest, I've really neglected this one recently, being summer and all. I am choosing not to patronize the kids by writing down every little thing they have to do every day and instead just letting them enjoy the summer.

While getting rid of all the obnoxious calendars has helped to lower the stress level in our home, it's made me somewhat lost. I'm a tangible person. I like things I can hold and touch and, most especially, write on. If I write something down, I remember it. I used to copy whole chapters of school books into notebooks just so I'd never have to really study. I assumed the computer would work, but apparently my brain does not process typing the same way it processes writing. Long story short, I'm forgetting a lot.

For instance, when planning out my Rita Project (on my nice, tidy little $.79 spiral notebook), I forgot to factor in my kamikaze trip to Wyoming, the week needed to introduce the kids to their new diet, the MONTH (or more) needed to rehabilitate the kids after three weeks of spoiling by grandparents and aunts, the four weeks I'd need to take off from "exerting myself" after my little procedure, etc. On paper, taking one week to conquer one month of resolutions seemed doable. But, as we all know, everything always looks good on paper. Applying what you've written to real life is something else entirely.

If there is anything that the Army has taught me, it's how to be flexible. Plans change, problems arise. Adapt and survive . . . or resist at your own peril. So in order to avoid certain defeat, I'm adapting my project. Rather than fail due to frustration from missing deadlines I set for myself, I have chosen to move at the pace of the household.

That being said, we're still on Week One: Boost Energy/Get Healthy. And that we have! We are all adjusting to the raw vegan diet really well. I think the part that I love the most is that Chris is so involved in the process. He's helping me prepare meals, the kitchen is almost always clean with his help, and he's taken over the job of "Master Juicer". It's amazing how something as simple as changing your diet can benefit your marriage in such a huge way.

The kids aren't as enthusiastic about the new healthy eating plan, but they're coming around. I'm pretty sure part of the problem stemmed from someone back in Texas spilling the beans (pardon the pun) before Chris and I were able to explain the diet and why we had chosen to do it. When I went to pick them up in Wyoming, I was greeted with, "Are we really never going to eat pizza again?!" and, "But doughnuts and ice cream are my favorites!" Apparently, after they'd put food in their mouths, someone would say, "Enjoy that because you never get to eat it again." Awesome.

But we've overcome and they're enjoying more every day (especially once they found out that cookies and ice cream are actually acceptable if made from the right ingredients). I'd be fibbing if I told you that everything is delicious. As much as I want to be able to say that I like Dolse and kelp noodles covered in ground nuts, I just can't. But that, my friends, is why I have my first commandment: Be Acasha.

And being Acasha means not liking stuff that tastes like a piece of seaweed fresh out of the toilet bowl or has the texture of paper mache paste.

But again, progress is being made, just not on my original schedule. I'll take it though : )

This week's focus is on organization and clearing the clutter. My bedroom sanctuary has been achieved (now if I could only keep the toddler out) and I'm moving on to the rest of the house. The idea is purge first, then organize. Purging has actually been quite exhilarating, and I plan on sharing my "Secrets of Purging" at the end of the week so that you can be as productive and clutter-free as I will be!

Maybe my initial approach was too ambitious. After all, slow and steady does win the race, so maybe slowing down and focusing more time and energy on each individual resolution will help me to have a more enriching experience. Who needs schedules and deadlines anyways? Not this girl!  

PS: I have lost an amazing 15lbs and Chris has lost 20lbs since starting this new diet just three weeks ago! And that's without exercising (since I can't "exert myself" till next week, according to my dr.)!

My Hero : )

Me, In Bed

Ha ha! Made you look!
But no, really, this one's about bed, just not in the way you were hoping. Still in Week #1 of my little project and working on boosting energy and getting healthy. Day #5 of the raw foods diet is going swimmingly. Picked up a wonderful little uncooked book titled "The Everything Raw Food Recipe Book" filled with everything from veggie pasta (no, not vegan . . . no soy or tofu here) to key lime pie and mint chocolate cheesecake. The morning barley and alfalfa is getting easier to swallow, thanks to Chris' amazing juicing skills. We may have ruined Bonnie, though. She was drinking Odwalla carrot juice just fine a week ago, but once we got our juicer (not the greatest, but the it's what we could afford) there was pulp in her juice and now she won't go near the stuff, even when we strain it. We're considering putting her back on Odwalla until we're able to get a good juicer.
And speaking of Bonnie, she's really put a kink in my "getting better sleep" plan. Phase one was to tackle the bedroom itself. My bedroom has a tendency to be the catch-all for the rest of the house. If someone rings my doorbell, the dog and whatever laundry I was folding get rushed back to our room. Ideally, every one's shoes come off when they walk in the door. Unfortunately, this leads to the inevitable pile of shoes in the front hall. The kids are great about picking them up for me, but I trip over them later because they usually just toss them right inside the doorway. In my frustration (and usually because my hands are full), I kick the shoes to the side, building yet another shoe pile in my room. Things that don't match any other room of the house end up in there, that big box of outgrown clothes that needs to go to Goodwill got shoved in there. Like I said, catch-all. But no more! A master bedroom should be a sanctuary, a place for adults only. So I spent all of Sunday afternoon putting away that laundry, moving the boxes out and attempting to restore the calm to the master bedroom. With the bedroom in order, it was time to move on to phase two: getting to bed earlier. Chris and I have a very bad habit of staying up way too late. We've never been good at keeping schedules, so dinner all too often falls around 7pm, making bed time for Chris and I after 11. My new mini-resolution (as part of the larger boost energy/get healthy resolution) is to have dinner ready no later than 5:30. If we eat dinner early, we'll have plenty of time to go for our after dinner walk, get all the kids bathed and in bed by 9 and retreat to our little adults-only sanctuary by 10. With five hours between dinner and bed time, we'll have to go to bed early out of either exhaustion or just sheer boredom : )
While it all looks great on paper, even the best laid plans can be completely obliterated by a toddler. She has absolutely no desire to go to bed at 8:30 because it's still somewhat light out. At 9, when it's nearly dark, she starts to get grumpy. The more you try to get her to bed, the more she fights it . . . and the more she fights, the later we all end up getting to bed. It's a vicious cycle that I don't really know how to end. So for now, we will stick with the plan and hopefully she'll get the memo at some point. After all, shutting off the tv and just laying in darkness while she cries herself out is much better than falling asleep on the couch at midnight with the tv on and waking up at 3am and trying to haul yourself to bed.

Me, In the Raw

A few months ago, I picked up a book called "The Happiness Project" by Gretchen Rubin. To be completely honest, I purchased it intending to give it to my Co-Brownie troop leader for her birthday, but she mysteriously quit showing up for meetings and activities right around that time. By the time I saw her next, it was already two months past her birthday, so I just considered it a present to myself for all the hard work I had to do to cover for her : )
Back to the book. Just by reading the title, I assumed it would parallel and supplement my Rita Project, but it did so much more than that! I've decided to shape my Rita Project around the framework set by Gretchen in "The Happiness Project." The book is a set of 12 resolutions, a different resolution for each month. Since Gretchen and I seem to have A LOT in common (we're practically the same person), I'm making her resolutions my own. The great thing about reading the entire book before starting the project is that she's done all the research for me, so instead of taking 12 months to complete the project, I can warp speed it and complete it in 12 weeks instead.
What I love most about this book is that it's not about changing everything in your life (i.e. moving, quitting your job, leaving your husband to find "Edward", etc.) to create an empty, false sense of happiness, but rather taking everything you have right now and finding the happiness in it. Doing away with pessimism and negativity, finding the little things that REALLY make you happy and encouraging positive thinking are more what this book focuses on. It's for those of us who are happy with our situation, but just not happy with ourselves and really looking for the joy in life. That's me in a nutshell. As Gretchen puts it, "I wanted to change my life without changing my life, by finding more happiness in my own kitchen."
The first step is to lay down some rules, or commandments, that will help when I'm wrestling with keeping my resolutions. Again, Gretchen's commandments line up perfectly with mine, so I only had to make a few adjustments:
1) Be Acasha.
2) Let it go. (That's something I tell myself at least 100 times a day)
3) Act the way I want to feel. (or "fake it till you feel it" from my April 1st blog)
4) Do it now. Don't procrastinate.
5) Be polite, be fair, don't raise your voice for any reason at all.
6) Enjoy the process
7) Spend out, but spend wisely.
8) Lighten up, but sarcasm isn't always the answer.
9) Identify the problem.
10) Do what ought to be done.
11) Don't over think.
12) In the end, love matters most.
So now that I've conquered my commandments, it's time to tackle Resolution #1: Boost Energy/Get Healthy. This is probably the broadest of all the resolutions and most likely the hardest since I'm a junk food eating, movie watching, anti-running couch potato. Not that I don't LOVE to be outdoors, because I do, but I like doing stuff for fun and exercise just never sounds fun. And don't get me started on food. I could eat a steady diet of Dr. Pepper, cinnamon bears, cheeseburgers, cherry pie and coffee for the rest of my life and be perfectly content (aside from all the health issues I'd encounter). So week 1 will certainly be the most difficult.
But I have motivation, and a good one at that. I don't want to go anywhere near chemotherapy and I was recently blessed by a new friend who brought me a book detailing the benefits of the Genesis 1:29 diet, the biggest being that it's cured cancer. Who'da thunk it? Of course when I told my oncologist that I'd be skipping chemo and opting for a raw foods diet instead, she just looked at me funny and said "See you Tuesday." I'm sure we'll talk more about it then ...
So today Chris and I officially started the diet. We got up and made fresh carrot juice, fought through a glass of barley and alfalfa (it was AWFUL) then snacked all day on fresh fruits and veggies. Tonight we're making pizza ... no cheese, no egg, no meat pizza. Should be fantastic! (Really, no sarcasm in that one. I know, total shocker.) I know this diet will be super hard to stick with for the first couple months, but it's what I need to do and Chris and the kids are doing it with me, so that should help.
So Week 1/Day 1: Diet is in the books. Tomorrow I'm tackling the bed. Probably both literally and figuratively. Chris and I have a bad habit of staying up late, waking up still tired and totally blah. Makes for a very long day. So not only will the focus be on getting to bed earlier, but also getting better sleep.
By calling these resolutions instead of goals, I'll be making a permanent change each day and building on that. If these were goals, then I'd simply accomplish them and move on to a new goal, making it easy to forget about the last one since, technically, I'd already reached it. This way, I never lose sight of the resolutions I make early on, always focusing on what I'm doing rather than where it's getting me.
So here's to veggie pizza, carrot juice and a healthier, happier me : )
Question: What could you take out of your normal diet that could make you happier and healthier? Comment below!

Just You and Me and the Beezer Makes Three

It's officially week two of being a single child household and I must say that it's definitely different. My days are incredibly quiet, which I didn't expect. Bonnie is usually the noise maker in the house, so I assumed taking Luke and Belle out of the picture wouldn't change much. I was wrong, which is a good thing : ) Bonnie hasn't had to fight for or demand my attention, she hasn't been bossed around and told to "stop it" every five seconds, and she can play whatever she wants and she's not annoying anyone. She's calmed down so much that she's like a whole new kid sometimes!
On the flip side, while it has certainly been quieter and calmer, it hasn't necessarily been easier. There's no one else here during the day to play with her and entertain her . . . just me. While I absolutely love having all this Beezer time, my productivity hasn't exactly sky-rocketed. Take this blog, for instance. I had hoped that I could write at least every other day, but the second I sit down to the computer, she's climbing all over me or darting back to Luke and Belle's room to try to sneak some of their toys. When I try to fold laundry, there's no one to keep her from unfolding it. I have to get up before dawn if I want a shower, or else wait until Chris gets home.
So while having a temporary three person household has been a nice respite from the normal chaos, I'm really starting to miss my other munchkins. Luke always greets me with a hug and Annabelle lives in this zany alternate reality that makes for interesting and hilarious conversations.
So, T-minus ten days and counting . . . 

The Road Goes on Forever

Over 4th of July weekend, I embarked on a journey I will not soon forget . . . though I'd like to. As you may have read in previous posts, my mother so generously offered to take on our two eldest children for a few weeks in July. After what seemed like and eternity, July finally got here, so last Friday morning I woke with the sun (it starts rising at 4:30am here) and got ready to hit the road.
First things first, I knew it would be a long trip and was very prepared. I was driving solo since Chris wasn't able to take leave (LOVE the military when civilians are involved . . . but that's a whole other story). I had three kids crammed into the backseat of a little Mazda 3, one in a car seat monstrosity and one in a booster. Poor Luke was in the middle, squished beyond all recognition. I have two girls that are prone to car sickness and three . . . that's right THREE mountain passes to go through. A grand total of 14 hours and 29 minutes according to Google Maps.
And did I mention Chris? Yeah he was worried sick. How do I know this? Because he told me so . . . on a note . . . that was taped to the inside of the driver's side door . . . with military issue 100-mile-an-hour tape (that's olive drab duct tape to those who aren't privy). On this note was a reminder to lock the doors but take the keys out first, a reminder to shut the lights off, a reminder as to which side of the car the gas tank was on . . . I could go on but I think you get the point. And the last little bullet said "I love you so much, Princess! And I'm worried sick!" Literally. My husband is the only person I know that can worry himself into 24 hours of mandatory bed rest and an lethal cocktail of TheraFlu and NyQuil. He even printed maps and driving directions and stuffed them in the visors. These, of course, were just back ups though. He had pre-programmed my phone and locked it in navigation mode so that Sadie the Nav Lady would be there to guide me in his place. And speaking of phones, he also installed a GPS tracking ap so that he would be able to watch my every move. He knew I was pulling in to a rest stop before I was even able to get my blinker on.
So anyways, back to the trip. I assumed that leaving early meant the kids would sleep for the first few hours, getting us peacefully and puke free through the Cascade mountains. Wrong. They were so stoked about seeing their GG and Papa that they were wired to the max. Bonnie was grumpy and unhappy with their movie choice. She didn't even make it to Snoqualmie. Car sick stop #1.
(Side note: Portable DVD players are excellent for traveling, but when you're looking at a 15+ hour trip, not even a Harry Potter marathon is appealing.)
We cleaned up and hit the road again, only stopping for potty breaks and the occasional stretch of the legs at road side rest areas. Snacks and Lunchables were packed away in the cooler in the passengers seat so that we wouldn't even have to stop for food. That may be why they call me the Road Trip Nazi .... hmmm.
Bonnie napped (thank God), Luke and Annabelle watched movies and listened to their MP3 players that Chris had loaded with pre-approved music the night before. We made it all the way to the Idaho border (the second time . . . weird, I know, but look at a map and you'll see) before Bonnie woke up. Car sick stop #2. This one was slightly more dramatic because Luke wasn't able to move out of her line of fire. That, and where I pulled off to clean everything up was in the woods right next to a river so we were getting swarmed by mosquitoes the entire time. The rest of the trip was creeping towards a 10 on the stressometer. Bonnie's seat was beyond roadside repair, so I had to cover it with a beach towel and put the regular seat belt on her. She refused to stay in her seat, the other two were fighting over movies and the last bag of apples and elbows invading "bubbles". Not even my headphones could drown out the chaos. I know, Parent of the Year award right here. We approached Idaho Falls as the sun began to set and made it to the last winding pass just as darkness fell. I hate night driving, especially when on a narrow, unfamiliar two lane road that has steep drop offs and large bodies of water just past the non-existent shoulder (all of which you can't see because it's pitch black in the middle of nowhere). All hope was not lost, though. Bonnie had fallen asleep and the other two were engrossed in whatever movie was left after 14 hours of viewing, so I made it onto familiar roads and eventually to Grandma's cabin. I didn't even bother unloading the car. We just went in and crashed. The rest could wait till morning.
Saturday and Sunday were very pleasant. Mom and Dad got to the cabin around 4:30 Saturday afternoon. They're not suicidal so they stopped and spent the night in Loveland, CO. We went out for pizza, helped put up a canopy for my grandma's friend and received fresh watermelon and ice cream for payment, went on lots of walks and just hung out. Pleasant.
Monday morning came and I had high hopes for a quieter and cleaner trip home. I had picked up some Dramamine at the grocery store to hopefully take care of the car sickness and there were no older siblings arguing and tormenting the Beezer with their movie picks. She could watch Open Season (which she calls Yogi Bear for some reason) as much as she wanted.
I got the car all loaded up, tried to sneak off a few times so Mom and Dad would be stuck with all three but they caught me every time, then we headed to the gas station together for the traditional "parting ways" tank filling. I gave the kids their last hugs (Luke will miss me WAY more than Annabelle will) and Dad gave me the obligatory $20 bill "just in case." It drives him nuts that I don't like to travel with cash. We waved out the back windows as we pulled off in opposite directions and suddenly it was very quiet in the car.
As we headed towards Alpine, it was 6am West Coast time and Bonnie's internal clock made it so that I didn't even have to bother with the meds. She slept until about 10, we stopped for a late breakfast at a rest stop in the barren Montana lowlands, then I felt it necessary to take advantage of the Dramamine. Beez didn't like it so much, hacking and coughing and spitting trying to get the taste out of her mouth. Lucky for me, it kicked in just as we were coming into the mountains and she slept all the way to Spokane. I was making record time at this point. Unfortunately, luck would run out as the sun slid lower on the horizon. Bonnie kept crying because the sun was in her eyes and I did everything in my power to block it, but it's kind of hard to drive with the wind shield completely covered. For those who aren't familiar with Eastern Washington, it's very much like the Texas Panhandle. No trees, hotter than blazes and lots of grass and farmland as far as the eye can see. I hauled as fast as the law would allow (ok, maybe a little faster) to try and get to the trees, hoping they'd block the sun a little so Bonnie would stop crying about her "eyes melting." I breathed a sigh of relief as trees began to dot the country side. The road began winding and we began climbing. The sun was going down and we were going up, so Bonnie and I could finally see again. Our relief was short lived, though. Car sick stop #3. Just as Sadie the Nav Lady informed me that we were only 2 hours from our destination.
Did you know regurgitated bananas smell like cheap beer? Well they do, so now you know.
After the clean up, I took it easy on the pass. I had made such good time up to this point that I'd still get in early even if I slowed down for the curves. As we came up to I-5 South bound, it was just dark enough for people to begin shooting off fireworks. Bonnie was in awe of all the pretty "sparkles," so the last hour of the drive was filled with laughter and wonderment.
I came home to a spotless house and a relieved and happy husband. All in all, a decent trip : )


A few things I learned:
1) I have a new appreciation for the Seattle area. The temp still hasn't gone over 80, the air is moist but not humid and I've never had scrape layers of bugs off the front of my car.
2) No amount of movies and snacks and books and music can keep three kids happy if they're squished in a tiny back seat for 15+ hours.
3) Driving off into the sunset isn't as romantic or exciting as it sounds. Staring straight at the sun starts to suck pretty bad after the first hour (or less).

The C Word (or Why I Have Rule #1)

So not long after I started my little blog, I began realizing that I should set some rules for my self. Of course, this realization only came after saying a few things I wished I hadn't, but hindsight is 20/20. While my rules are few, number one is certainly the most important: Don't write about a problem until after you've solved it. Some of you may disagree, explaining that sharing your current predicament with the world would give others the opportunity to provide an unbiased perspective on the situation. While this is true, I can't agree that it's helpful. Just because something works for someone else doesn't mean that it would work for me. And while I could say that I wouldn't let others opinions influence my choices, I'd be fibbing. Once you read something, especially when it relates to you on some level, it's stuck in the back of your head and will be recalled whether you intend to or not.
That being said, now on to why I've been on hiatus. It wasn't a problem, per say. More like a situation. One that I was having a little trouble dealing with.
Right after I had Bonnie, I went in for my post-baby removal (she was removed, not spit out) and had the normal girly tests done, only the results didn't come back so normal. So they did biopsies and discovered that I was in the early stages of cervical cancer. Since this is a military facility, they are very vague and not helpful when it comes to offering up explanations of findings and such. So naturally, I went home and googled the heck out of it. At the stage I was at, it was very easy to get rid of with something called a L.E.E.P. procedure (I'll spare y'all the details). Chris and I had already remedied the hyper-fertility problem, so since we didn't plan on having more little imps running around, there should be no reason to not do it, right? WRONG. Before I could even get a call back from my doctor after leaving several messages, I got a letter from the OB/GYN department saying they decided on a course of action . . . or lack there of . . . and that they'd see me in a year to see if I'd progressed. I finally reached my PCM (primary care manager for those of you who are lucky enough to not have government-run insurance) and she said that TriCare (government-run health insurance) won't allow any procedures until you've reached Stage 1 and are sent to oncology. The girly doctor department is so backed up with post-deployment pregnancies that being seen once a year is about as good as they can do. So can I get a referral to go off post? Nope. Can I get a second opinion? Nope. Can I pay for an off post doctor to do a second opinion myself? Well sure! If you have the money (which I didn't) and if you're prepared to get the door slammed in your face when you come back to Madigan. Apparently, Madigan (or maybe this is all military medical facilities) doesn't take too kindly to us not liking their diagnosis and going elsewhere on our own dime. They absolutely WILL NOT consider any and all anything from an outside physician. Period. So I waited my one year. I went back in, had another biopsy and guess what . . . I got worse. Not bad enough to warrant treatment of course, but bad enough to need to be seen in six months rather than twelve. Yay. So helpful. So I waited again, got yet another biopsy (considering the location I'm sure you all can assume how NOT FUN these appointments were), then got the same news again. Getting worse, but not bad enough for treatment and not fast enough to need to be seen anytime soon. At this point I'm begging them to please just take all the girly parts out. They're all messed up anyways and I don't need them anymore. Of course they would absolutely not even consider this. Because after all, I'm only 29 . . . with three kids . . . and a messed up cervix . . . and I may change my mind and want to have even MORE kids. So dumb.
(Side note: Why in the world is the military not encouraging sterilization? They won't allow anyone under 26 to be "fixed" no matter how many kids they have. They won't allow anyone under 30 to be "fixed" if they only have one kid and are content with that. They won't allow single parents to be "fixed" and they will pay for you to get a boob job to attract a mate, they'll pay for you to get in vitro fertilization if your mate can't do the job, and they'll pay for you to get gastric bypass and psychotherapy when said mate bails on you for gaining too much baby weight . . . . but they won't pay for preventive medicine . . . so stupid. Ok, off my soap box)
So anyways, somewhere in the middle of all this, my PCM had prescribed something to fix my other girly problems (told you they were all messed up) and come to find out, one of the side effects of that particular medicine is that it can accelerate the growth rate of cancerous cells. Genius. I'm sure you're all jumping off your chairs to go sign up for Obama-care.
Long story short, the last time I went in for yet another biopsy, the doctor's tone made me realize that it finally had gotten bad enough. When the lab results came back, she called me to confirm the assumption and to let me know that oncology would be handling my appointments from now on. And that I'd finally be getting that procedure I'd been asking for. I think she was a little put-off by my not upset-ness. After all, I'm supposed to want to NOT have cancer . . . and to continue with the uncomfortable biopsies every three to six months for ever and ever. No thank you.
Get worse to get better, that's what I'd been telling myself for some time now. But I wasn't better. I was actually much, much worse. I woke up the next morning with horrible stomach and chest pains, aching in all my joints and my hands were shaking like I hadn't eaten in a week. Poor Chris didn't know what to do with me. I didn't feel sick, so I didn't want to go to the ER (since with government care you can't get a same-day with your PCM). I just felt like the whole world was collapsing down on top of me. Apparently, there's something called Sudden Onset Hyperactive Stress Disorder. It's what happens when a person copes well under constant high levels of stress but experiences a "trigger event" (my cancer call) that causes a break. Like a normal person's panic/anxiety attack times 1,000. Come to find out, constantly needing to control the chaos is actually a bad thing. My new life motto needs to be "Let it be."
I got over my ordeal in a couple days, constantly repeating in my head that I had to get worse to get better. But I still had to tell my mom, among other things. Then the "Welcome!" letter came from the oncology department. That was so weird. Like they have to be friendly but serious. I deal much better with sarcasm and inappropriate jokes. So anywho, that's where I've been and what I've been doing. Making the day to day more important than what's going on inside. Going on field trips with the kids, putting together Annabelle's bridging ceremony for Girl Scouts, going to my favorite little beach, Solo Point, with the whole family, taking lots of pictures. I know what I have is not near as bad as most I'll see when I go up to oncology in a couple weeks, but it's still a big deal to me. My procedure is July 14th. The kids will be in Texas with Mom and Dad suffering from heat exhaustion, Chris used me as an excuse to get off work so he'll be bringing me fresh fruit and keeping Bonnie busy. I plan on milking it for as long as I can : )

Get worse to get better . . . . and get better, I will.

My best friend and biggest supporter : )