On my 47th birthday, we re-elected President Barak Obama! I am thrilled that he will see me into my 50th year as our President because he renews my faith in America. That we elected him twice by wide margins. That it wasn't just change we were looking for, but his vision of what we can be as a nation. Its a kinder nation, more compassionate. One that allows gays in the military to come out of the closet, that allows the bottom tier access to health insurance, that finds ways to keep blue collar jobs at home and that did not obfuscate on support for marriage equality. Most Obama detractors I know are mainly worried about their own bottom line, dollars and cents. They look at Obama and the people his policies help and think they are different. But what we gain when we look beyond our own situation, when we look at others as no different then ourselves, is of far more value than what can fit in our wallets. Thankfully, a majority of Americans felt the same way.
The next day, I learned once again what heartbreakers kids can be. This time my youngest Rose, who, at 10, has decided to start in with the teenage melodrama, angst and disappointment. I should be happy to join the ranks of diligent parents that would applaud the lions roar response of the middle school guidance department upon coming across her doodled skull and crossbones with "Kill myself, Kill myself, Kill myself." scrawled at the bottom, but since it was my kid and my life's choices and parenting suddenly coming under close scrutiny, I admit to being less than thrilled with the hyper-sensitivity of the system. I did cancel the rest of my workday to meet her getting off the bus only to be told "Mom, that thing at school today. They talked to me, they made me understand what they thought. Its not a big deal, I was just mad. We don't need to have me see anybody, we don't even need to talk about it. It won't happen again." Sigh. If only it were that simple.
The day after that, I got out the second issue of our department newsletter, acting as editorial lead, which means cutting and pasting with flair and being responsible for any typo or broken link. I am thrilled with the tedium of putting it together, with crafting a pleasing template and making it look magazine-like. I pushed hard for more engaging writing styles but its hard for research scientists to break out of the dry, objective tone we are required to report our most exciting findings in for publication in research journals. Even things like catchier titles - 'Itching for a New Rash Model' - were nixed for a more subdued 'In vitro Keratinocyte Model for Compounds hat Induse Rash'. But its writing of a sort, and its a step in the right direction.
On the Cancer front, yeah, still dealing with that. Two wonderful things; met a woman and fellow survivor named Marianna who, tears in her eyes, introduced herself at the gym my first day back there. She had seen me strutting around at work with no wig and the bold feather tattoo and had wanted to say how brave she thought that was. She is lovely and gracious, feminine in a way I can never pull off, but raunchy too in that way that makes you want to share a cold beer. Her own treatment was much longer and harder than mine, full of rich stories and has a happy conclusion so far. Its going to be a great connection.
Also on the plus side was my nipple reconstruction surgey yesterday at Faulkner Hospital. Wayde was my companion yet again. It took just under an hour and I was awake and chatting throughout. I noew have Franken nipples for the next two weeks when they remove the 300+ microstitches. It will be 3+ months before they can be tattooed a normal color and then the reconstruction is complete. The attached picture is of the proceedure I had. Truly amazing artwork.
On the downside, my neighbor Terri stopped me this morning to tell me her mom has been idagnosed with breast cancer and starts chemo next Wednesday. Her mom has been a strong supporter of her and is a strong, hardy New England type. I know she'll be fine, but its not an easy near-term future so I am sad for what's ahead for her. There are always silver linings for everyone, so although its a path you have no choice but to follow, its a rich path to walk for most. I wish her speedy recovery.
A few days from now is Thanksgiving. A day of food and family, and always for me, a time of reflection and thanks. And possibly another blog post. One can hope. One down, 155 to go...
