Sorry about yesterday's rant. I dunno . . . I just dropped my basket briefly, I guess. But today is a new day (without any mistakes in it, so far! except that Husband forgot to put a bag in the kitchen trash can last night, and my idiot children blithely poured their trash into a naked trash can — but guess whose problem this is not?) (and I also had to change the light bulb over the kitchen sink, wayyyyyy up high, which meant standing on a chair, which, with my bum knees, was quite the comedy of errors) (and aren't those weirdo twisty light bulbs supposed to last, like, a lifetime?? Mine burn out all the time. What the heck??) . . .
. . . and I'm feeling cautiously optimistic.
Yesterday I met with my cancer-prevention doc, and she looked at my medical record and said, "So you met with Dr. Dixie [my boob surgeon] last week, she asked you how you're doing on Tam, you said you hate it but the voice of your dead grandmother told you to keep taking it. Would you . . . say that's accurate?"
I said, "Yep."
She said, "Well! Okay, then."
I'm so happy that the voice of my dead grandma is part of my medical record!
I told CP doc all my symptoms and said, "I know we can't really tell what's due to Tam vs. perimenopause vs. knee injury vs. stress vs. grief . . ." and she said, "Maybe we can." She's having me stop taking Tam for a month and keep close track of how I'm feeling (not a problem. I excel at this), and then we'll evaluate:
- If I'm not significantly better but I note improvement toward the end of the month, she'll give me another month off.
- If I'm not significantly better, period, I'll resume my life with Tam, the inscrutable exchange student.
- If I'm clearly significantly better . . . then I have a hard decision to make: Resume the medicine that's making me miserable, or roll the dice and assume that I won't get breast cancer? (which, if you're keeping track, I might anyway, even if I keep taking the Tam)
So it's Day 1 of No Tam, and so far I feel . . . really sleepy. I watched How to Get Away with Murder last night, then read a little of Soldier Girls until my eyes closed — but then it took me an hour to fall asleep. And Friday mornings begin at 6:12 a.m., when my kids must arise for Madrigals and Boys Chorus, and I had to put on real clothes today, not just dash out in my nightie, because we were almost out of cream for my coffee. So: yawwwwwwn.
But I have a ton of work to do, so I shall have at it!
Other items of optimism:
- Tonight Mimosa and I are going to an author reading for two authors/books that we both loved:
- We'll have dinner at Alta Strada, a yummy Italian restaurant, where our favorite thing is to order small plates of vegetables, salad, and dessert. YUM. I've never taken my girl to an author reading before, and I am very excited.
- Avenue Q on Saturday night!!!
- I'm making a deeply concerted effort to leave my inflamed cuticles alone, and they are actually looking pretty good! I feel like I have no control whatsoever over my weight — even when I do everything "right," I still don't necessarily lose a pound. But this is a no-brainer: If I don't pick, my fingers look better. Right now each nail is polished half navy and half emerald, with clear violet glitter over the whole thing, and they look very fabby.
- Yesterday, as I bemoaned the 173 messages in my Inbox, Writer Jenny promptly e-mailed me with this subject line:
- My friends, they are wicked funny. And also wicked. I may be dead broke, but I am RICH in FRIENDS.
- I'm test-driving a new mantra:
Work calls. I shall answer.
— Lady C the dutiful