Do pickles count as a veggie?

Yesterday I was so tired. We had preschool and after Kyle came over to play. I have been doing laundry like crazy. I want to empty my baskets and then determine how many loads a day it would take to keep them empty. I am tired of my laundry room being a long term storage facility instead of a cheerful, inviting, smelling of soap and clean clothes place where dirty clothes go in and then come out clean in the same season . Also we are still getting used to our early morning seminary schedule. I have been walking during seminary with my friend Gretchen in the gym. I am trying to build a habit of exercising. You hear 21 days all the time but I don't believe it. I could exercise every day for 21 months and still want to skip the next day. And conversely a bad habit, I am convinced, takes only a couple times to really sink in. Why is that? Still I've made it three days and besides being a little sore (how sad is that?) I am glad about it. (I am thrilled tomorrow is Saturday, however!) The problem is getting to bed on time. I want to be in bed by 10 so I'll be ready for a 5:40 wake up, it's just hard to do that.

I also had to make flyers for the upcoming ward social: it's one of the official duties of "ward party princess." Work on my lesson for Sunday: official duty in my calling as sage on the stage, fountain of wisdom, discussion facilitator, treat bringer, Sunday school teacher . And we had orchestra and I am teaching a craft for Super Saturday tomorrow and that needed some attention as well.
Don' t know why I was tired! Anyway as a result this was dinner. Nutricious (ahem), appealing to all, and super easy. Pickles are a vegetable right? And ketchup too, at least according to the school district they are :) And the pie had both fruit and dairy. What more could I ask for?

Got a good phone call yesterday. It was the nurse from my doctor's office. Any time the nurse starts with "good news, it's benign" it's a good call. I wasn't really all that worried, especially since it was taking awhile to hear, bad news usually comes fast. We had spent all week not thinking about it, not worrying. Why borrow trouble from tomorrow, right?, today is trouble enough for the moment. But still I was very glad, I got off the phone, laughed out loud and felt myself let my breath out as if I had been holding it for a week and said a prayer of gratitude. I remembered another phone call, years ago, that didn't go so well. It was from another doctor's office. He said "Mrs _______, your test results are in you have Papillary Thyroid Carcinoma. I don't have time to talk to you about it right now but if you want you can call Dr. Birsner and he can explain more about it." Talk about crummy bedside manner. Those words didn't mean much to me but I was nursing my 3 week old baby and thought I'd better call Dr. B (my OB) in case it was going to effect her. I called and talked to his nurse. I told her what Dr Reynolds had said and was met by a stunned silence. Just a minute she finally said. Dr. B got on the line. Are you sitting down he asked, yes. You have cancer he said, then he swore. He didn't think breaking this kind of news on the phone was the right way. We talked on the phone for quite a while, until I understood what was going on. I was concerned about weaning S, finally he said~ a living mom is more important than breastmilk.
Okay, gotcha.
He said he'd call me back later and I called and told my husband and parents. That was the worst part. That and weaning poor little S. My mom, who panics and thinks every cold is a gateway to leukemia (said with love), did her usual mom thing. Alerted all, worried, ect.

That evening Dr. B called back, he had arranged appointments with the surgeon and oncologist and everyone I would need. He wanted to know how I was. How was I? The day before I had been a young mom (22 years old) with two cute little girls, a full-time student (I was studying to be a nurse), a normal person. Now, then, (excuse the tenses) I was a person with the "C" word. I was calm. Two days before my husband and brother-in-law had given me a blessing. They said I would live to raise my children, and the ones I was yet to have. I didn't doubt, this was an inconvenient detour.

So I had surgery. Dr B came to assist. He waited with me while I was getting prepped. He was there when I woke up. He was a good guy, cared about his patients. The surgery went well. I was in the hospital a few days and then home. It felt weird to know I was missing a body part but I recovered quickly and got back to being a mom. A month later they found more . Another surgery. This time, while I was laying on the gurney waiting to go in Dr. B came up and introduced me to his brother, also a doctor. He was a neurologist. They said they were thinking of going into business together and calling their practice "heads and tails". I laughed, then cried. Funny the things you remember. He held my hand and said I'd be fine, then caught a nurse to "give me a little something". The surgery went well.

It was decided that since it had spread and was acting aggressively I should have radio-active iodine treatment. This meant I had to go off synthetic thyroid for a month and then go into the hospital for a week for the treatment. I was worried about the month. No thyroid means you have severe hypothyroid symtoms (hair loss, memory loss, weight gain, fatigue, dry skin, constipation, basically your body slows down..Until it stops). I wanted to be able to take care of the girls. Each day I prayed for that. I was blessed. My blood work showed I was hypo way before I was laying on the couch dieing. Then I went to the hospital. I went in on my birthday. The treatment is easy. You go in a lead shielded room and sit there...For a long time. The nuclear medicine people came in in their white space suits and opened this huge silver canister, inside was a smaller canister, they opened that (all with long metal tongs) and inside that was a box which I was instructed to take out. Inside the box were several pills. Swallow they said. I held the box and looked up, are you sure? Yep. I swallowed and then waited. No one could visit. No trash, food, anything could leave the room once in with me. The nurses wore nuclear badges to make sure they weren't too exposed. They wore gloves. Since it was my birthday my husband brought up a Polaroid of him and the girls that said Happy Birthday. When I held it I left green finger prints on the back, the filmy part. It was a very boring week. The TV didn't work well. I listened to lots of CES tapes and looked out the window. Finally I was cleared to be amongst the general populous and called Mark to take me home. I couldn't get a hold of him so I called my best friend's mom who I called Mom2. Her daughter has the same name as me so I was L2 and she was M2. She came and took me home. The girls had to stay away a few more days, since their little thyroids were growing and we didn't want to risk exposure. I was very happy to have great doctors, to have technology that allowed me to be treated, to have so many people help with the girls and for the blessings of gospel. I felt like it was a miracle; that I was blessed with healing. No one can tell me that miracles are for the days of the Bible only. We have a living God, and he performs living miracles for His children right now. I was at peace the whole time, so much so that the doctors wanted me to see a professional to help me "come to terms with it". I knew I would be fine. Our earth life isn't supposed to be easy so I don't think it should come as a surprise when trials come. We need to trust the Lord in good and in bad, and actually it's the bad that's a little easier isn't it. That's when we know we need Him and acknowledge Him most. In fact less than I year later I was called to be the RS Pres. in my ward and that was as much of a trial as cancer. Not that I'm saying that was bad, it was just so far out of my comfort zone, so foreign to what I thought I could do, such a learning experience. Good and bad, back to back. Life lessons, taught and hopefully learned.

Okay, enough random rambling. I've had to edit this post somewhat, normally I try not to. I love blogging. It's a great way to journal but it's too public for the most sacred thoughts and experiences. I write this for my children, my posterity. I need to find a way to record the rest. Small plates if you will. Another puzzle for me to solve I guess :)