Hey Y'all! I had some internet access problems and was completely cut off from the internet! It's a long story, but it's over now. So, sorry for the delay. Hope to post a bunch in the next few days....
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The last time I was in Eilat was over 16 years ago!
I was single, young, healthy, and going to live forever!!
And there was nothing here!!
The underwater observation center was a wonderful, but dinky tourist attraction.
There were only a few hotels, one or two beaches renting snorkeling equipment, and a small, sleepy town.
That was it.
Eilat was, mostly, a lot of empty beach.
Not anymore.
The youth hostel, which used to be way out of town, is now close to the edge, but well within the city.
There are a plethora of hotels, each one more extravagant than the next.
The architecture is fantastic!
And there is plenty to do besides swimming and sunbathing.
I feel like I have landed on another planet!
Please daven (or send happy, healing thoughts) for RivkA bat Teirtzel.
With love and optimism,
RivkA
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
Sunday, November 9, 2008
Medical Update -- Second Opinion
"Why are you here?" asked the oncologist.
"My doctor wanted me to get an expert opinion," I responded.
"What nonsense; he's an expert in his own right," she muttered under her breath.
So, I explained that my doctor wanted someone with a fresh opinion, from another hospital, who would examine my case from an unbiased perspective.
That, she found tenable.
Her analysis does differ somewhat. She notes that:
1. all my markers have been rising steadily(not just the CA-125). That, coupled with my increasing pain, indicates, without doubt, that there is "progression of disease."
2. the CT report does not indicate that the cancer has been eliminated from my liver. After the second report, noting that the lesion is smaller, all following reports note "no change."
3. though there is no evidence of disease on the MRI, since there is no previous MRI with which to compare the results, they are inconclusive. Perhaps with this type of imaging, no evidence would have been apparent, even in the beginning.
4. there are lesions evident on the CT, that could be tumors.
She recomments switching treatment.
I expressed my concern that I have already "used up" one of the drugs that are appropriate for my cancer.
She assured me that there are still plenty of drugs left in the "arsenal" and that there is a lot of research these days about HER2 breast cancer.
The uncertainty is disconcerting.
But we are just talking about changing treatments.
With love and optimism,
RivkA
"My doctor wanted me to get an expert opinion," I responded.
"What nonsense; he's an expert in his own right," she muttered under her breath.
So, I explained that my doctor wanted someone with a fresh opinion, from another hospital, who would examine my case from an unbiased perspective.
That, she found tenable.
Her analysis does differ somewhat. She notes that:
1. all my markers have been rising steadily(not just the CA-125). That, coupled with my increasing pain, indicates, without doubt, that there is "progression of disease."
2. the CT report does not indicate that the cancer has been eliminated from my liver. After the second report, noting that the lesion is smaller, all following reports note "no change."
3. though there is no evidence of disease on the MRI, since there is no previous MRI with which to compare the results, they are inconclusive. Perhaps with this type of imaging, no evidence would have been apparent, even in the beginning.
4. there are lesions evident on the CT, that could be tumors.
She recomments switching treatment.
I expressed my concern that I have already "used up" one of the drugs that are appropriate for my cancer.
She assured me that there are still plenty of drugs left in the "arsenal" and that there is a lot of research these days about HER2 breast cancer.
The uncertainty is disconcerting.
But we are just talking about changing treatments.
Please daven (or send happy, healing thoughts) for RivkA bat Teirtzel.
With love and optimism,
RivkA
Saturday, November 8, 2008
Ain't it good to know, You've got a friend
"I'm coming to visit you," says my friend, after reading some of my recent posts.
"I'm OK," I reassure her.
"I'm coming anyway," she repeats, emphatically.
"I'm really not that bad," I reiterate, "I am already coming out of my slump."
"I know," she acknowledges, "I want to come. I think you can use the support."
Who am I to argue?
She's one of my best friends in the entire world. I miss her terribly.
"OK," I accede, "Let me know when you want to come."
I feel so loved.
I did not want her to come because she was worried. I know that I am OK, even if I have been feeling a little down.
But I am thrilled for her to come and play with me!!
She used to live here, and we have been through a lot together!
Well, she arrived Wednesday night!
I am so excited.
We are going to run away together.
My kids pouted a little, feeling slightly deprived that I am not taking them along. But I know they understand. I need a rest. And, as my friend jokingly pointed out to them, "If they come along, I won't rest." The kids laughed, knowing that it's true.
So, hopefully, we are off tomorrow!
Please daven (or send happy, healing thoughts) for RivkA bat Teirtzel.
With love and optimism,
RivkA
"I'm OK," I reassure her.
"I'm coming anyway," she repeats, emphatically.
"I'm really not that bad," I reiterate, "I am already coming out of my slump."
"I know," she acknowledges, "I want to come. I think you can use the support."
Who am I to argue?
She's one of my best friends in the entire world. I miss her terribly.
"OK," I accede, "Let me know when you want to come."
I feel so loved.
I did not want her to come because she was worried. I know that I am OK, even if I have been feeling a little down.
But I am thrilled for her to come and play with me!!
She used to live here, and we have been through a lot together!
Well, she arrived Wednesday night!
I am so excited.
We are going to run away together.
My kids pouted a little, feeling slightly deprived that I am not taking them along. But I know they understand. I need a rest. And, as my friend jokingly pointed out to them, "If they come along, I won't rest." The kids laughed, knowing that it's true.
So, hopefully, we are off tomorrow!
Please daven (or send happy, healing thoughts) for RivkA bat Teirtzel.
With love and optimism,
RivkA
Thursday, November 6, 2008
Limitations
“Are you sure you can do that?” asked my sister.
“Why not??” I responded, irritated that she was even asking.
We were discussing the possibility of diving with the dolphins in Eilat, something I have been dreaming of doing for years!
When she mentioned that she always wanted to go water skiing, she added, “You should ask your doctor about that, too.”
Later on, she said the same thing about rollercoasters, and Wall Climbing, in Teddy Stadium.
The questions annoyed me.
I wrote all her questions down in my yoman (diary), so I would not forget to ask my oncologist during my appointment on Tuesday morning. I would show her!
Tuesday morning, I strode into my doctor’s office and stopped. Two young adults, in white coats, were just hanging out in the room.
I paused, then queried the smiling young couple “Are you students?”
They smiled at me. “We are studying medicine at Soroka Hospital, in Be’er Sheva. Would you mind if we stick around during your appointment?”
Well, it is not as if my medical information is not out there for the entire world to read!
“Are you planning to stay in Israel?” I asked (unable to curb my Zionism, even in the oncolgy ward).
They looked at each other, and smiled again. They came to Israel as part of a Columbia University program, studying third world medicine. About 80% of the students are not even Jewish.
As it happens, the young man is Jew from Maryland; the young woman is a non-Jew from Denver. Cool.
My doc came in, turned to the students, and said, “Fasten your seat belts.” Then he introduced my case…
I tried hard not to interupt, as he gave a 2 minute overview of my medical history. I did interject when he described minimal pain; but I could not argue when he pointed out that I was managing my pain with minor league pain killers (Optalgin and Algolysin).
We then discussed some general questions, like the sensitivity in my jaw (“Why are we talking about her teeth?” My doctor quizzes the students*) and my upcoming second opinion (What I should bring with me; how I should present my situation, so as not to bias the doctor; etc)
The meeting was more or less "normal," until I turned to my list, and started asking my “real” questions.
“Can I SCUBA dive,” I asked.
“WHAT???” Moshe turns to me, in surprise (read: shock!).
“I want to go diving with the dolphins,” I calmly explain to the doctor… and my husband.
“I don’t know,” says my doctor, not the least bit perturbed.
“What could be wrong with SCUBA diving?” I challenged.
“I don’t know,” repeated my doctor.
“One of my teachers, who is in Israel right now” inserted one of the young students, “is a pulmonologist who has done research about SCUBA diving.”
“It’s a different field,” my doctor noted.
I wave my hands to indicate a magical aura, and chant “lifelong dream… diving with dolphins….”
I can see that my doctor is not moved by my creativity, and youthful eagerness.
“You only go down about 10 meters,” I add, not quite managing to keep my voice from pleading.
But my doctor is concerned that the pressure might damage my bones.
“You can try asking this fellow’s friend,” he says, nodding towards the student.
I take a deep breath.
“What about water skiing?” I ask.
“WHAT???” Moshe says, shocked yet again.
“No,” says my doctor, this time with no hesitation, “impact.”
“What about wall climbing?” I ask.
“WHAT???” Moshe says, nearly jumping out of his seat. “Where are you getting all these ideas?” he asks, looking at me like I just landed from Mars.
“My sister,” I reply, as if stating the obvious.
“No,” says my doctor, he does not hesitate this time, either.
“But you can’t fall,” I argue, “They use a belay” (to secure a climber at the end of a rope).
“If you lose your grip, the rope will catch you, stopping your fall, and causing impact,” my doctor explains, kindly.
He is patient, acknowledging my disappointment, as he turns to his students to explain the crazy lady sitting opposite him “She is a 42 year old, mother of three….”
I am resigned as I ask my final question, “I suppose I can’t go on a rollercoaster either.”
I barely hear his answer.
“You are raining on my parade,” I say quietly, trying to laugh it off, but pouting nonetheless.
My doctor turns to the students, “I told you, this one would be interesting.”
Please daven (or send happy, healing thoughts) for RivkA bat Teirtzel.
With love and optimism,
RivkA
* If the bone drug is Zomera, it is a biophosphonate, which can cause osteonecrosis in the jawbone.
“Why not??” I responded, irritated that she was even asking.
We were discussing the possibility of diving with the dolphins in Eilat, something I have been dreaming of doing for years!
When she mentioned that she always wanted to go water skiing, she added, “You should ask your doctor about that, too.”
Later on, she said the same thing about rollercoasters, and Wall Climbing, in Teddy Stadium.
The questions annoyed me.
I wrote all her questions down in my yoman (diary), so I would not forget to ask my oncologist during my appointment on Tuesday morning. I would show her!
Tuesday morning, I strode into my doctor’s office and stopped. Two young adults, in white coats, were just hanging out in the room.
I paused, then queried the smiling young couple “Are you students?”
They smiled at me. “We are studying medicine at Soroka Hospital, in Be’er Sheva. Would you mind if we stick around during your appointment?”
Well, it is not as if my medical information is not out there for the entire world to read!
“Are you planning to stay in Israel?” I asked (unable to curb my Zionism, even in the oncolgy ward).
They looked at each other, and smiled again. They came to Israel as part of a Columbia University program, studying third world medicine. About 80% of the students are not even Jewish.
As it happens, the young man is Jew from Maryland; the young woman is a non-Jew from Denver. Cool.
My doc came in, turned to the students, and said, “Fasten your seat belts.” Then he introduced my case…
I tried hard not to interupt, as he gave a 2 minute overview of my medical history. I did interject when he described minimal pain; but I could not argue when he pointed out that I was managing my pain with minor league pain killers (Optalgin and Algolysin).
We then discussed some general questions, like the sensitivity in my jaw (“Why are we talking about her teeth?” My doctor quizzes the students*) and my upcoming second opinion (What I should bring with me; how I should present my situation, so as not to bias the doctor; etc)
The meeting was more or less "normal," until I turned to my list, and started asking my “real” questions.
“Can I SCUBA dive,” I asked.
“WHAT???” Moshe turns to me, in surprise (read: shock!).
“I want to go diving with the dolphins,” I calmly explain to the doctor… and my husband.
“I don’t know,” says my doctor, not the least bit perturbed.
“What could be wrong with SCUBA diving?” I challenged.
“I don’t know,” repeated my doctor.
“One of my teachers, who is in Israel right now” inserted one of the young students, “is a pulmonologist who has done research about SCUBA diving.”
“It’s a different field,” my doctor noted.
I wave my hands to indicate a magical aura, and chant “lifelong dream… diving with dolphins….”
I can see that my doctor is not moved by my creativity, and youthful eagerness.
“You only go down about 10 meters,” I add, not quite managing to keep my voice from pleading.
But my doctor is concerned that the pressure might damage my bones.
“You can try asking this fellow’s friend,” he says, nodding towards the student.
I take a deep breath.
“What about water skiing?” I ask.
“WHAT???” Moshe says, shocked yet again.
“No,” says my doctor, this time with no hesitation, “impact.”
“What about wall climbing?” I ask.
“WHAT???” Moshe says, nearly jumping out of his seat. “Where are you getting all these ideas?” he asks, looking at me like I just landed from Mars.
“My sister,” I reply, as if stating the obvious.
“No,” says my doctor, he does not hesitate this time, either.
“But you can’t fall,” I argue, “They use a belay” (to secure a climber at the end of a rope).
“If you lose your grip, the rope will catch you, stopping your fall, and causing impact,” my doctor explains, kindly.
He is patient, acknowledging my disappointment, as he turns to his students to explain the crazy lady sitting opposite him “She is a 42 year old, mother of three….”
I am resigned as I ask my final question, “I suppose I can’t go on a rollercoaster either.”
I barely hear his answer.
“You are raining on my parade,” I say quietly, trying to laugh it off, but pouting nonetheless.
My doctor turns to the students, “I told you, this one would be interesting.”
Please daven (or send happy, healing thoughts) for RivkA bat Teirtzel.
With love and optimism,
RivkA
* If the bone drug is Zomera, it is a biophosphonate, which can cause osteonecrosis in the jawbone.
Monday, November 3, 2008
Socially Acceptable Body Mutilations, A.K.A. Pierced Ears
If God wanted us to have holes in our ears, we would have been born that way!
In the Bible, ear piercing is a sign of slavery! (See Devarim (Deuteronomy) 15:16-17)
When I discovered that my father was against piercing your ears, that was OK with me. I did not really want anyone putting unnecessary holes in my body. (Little did I know....)
Over time, I acquired a pretty nice collection of clip-on earings.
I was proud to have unpierced ears.
And then.... betrayal!
My daughter wanted pierced ears.
"You can make that decision for yourself, when you are eighteen," I declared, just as my parents told my sister, repeatedly, every time she asked for pierced ears.
My daughter persisted.
In an effort to placate her, I lent her (and her sister), my clip-on earings.
For a while, I thought I had succeeded.
I was pleased that they were using my earings. Even though they lost several pair, I thought it was worth it if they would lose interest in piercing their ears.
WRONG.
Much to my chagrin, my daughter continued to beg for permission to pierce her ears. (This made me quite sorry that I lent them my earings, since it is IMPOSSIBLE to find clip-on earings anymore, and I cannot replace the ones they lost!)
This summer, I discovered that my daughter had a powerful ally.
One bright, sunny day, my sister pulled me aside. I thought she was about to share with me some super secret. With the greatest air of sharing confidences, she quietly suggested that... I let Y pierce her ears before school starts. Woah! Y is only 14!! She is not even close to turning 18!
My sister, ever so gently, suggested that I do not really want to make my daughter wait that long.
"No way!" I told my sister.
My sister was not so easily deterred.
Over the next several weeks, my sister cajoled me, little by little, wearing down my resistance.
She assured me that my daughter would not "grow out" of her interest in pierced ears. She explained just how much she resented not having pierced ears when she was a kid. And she described how appreciative my daughter would be, if I relented.
I stuck to my guns, and school started with no bodily mutilations.
But my sister did not let it go.
"OK, we missed the beginning of school. But think how nice it would be if she got her ears pierced before Rosh HaShannah...."
"I don't want her to pierce her ears," I repeated, but my arguments were beginning to sound weak, even to me.
I love my daughter. In some ways, she is a lot like me. But not in all ways.
Unlike me, my daughter really is a "girly girl." She is like my sister. She is "into" clothes; she likes shopping, she likes nail polish, she wants to use make up. (My other daughter is the same way, btw).
What can I say? I was never interested in those things. Neither was my mother. But my sister was.
I do not really understand that facet of my daughter's personality. But my sister does.
So, despite my strong facade, I listened when my sister explained how important earings can be to a teenager, and how the desire for pierced ears will only grow stronger, and she will get them anyway, and quite possibly resent me for preventing her from piercing her ears earlier.
I listened.
I recognized the truth of her words.
I resisted.
I reflected.
I wished things were different.
I started noticing who did not have pierced ears.
A lot of my friends and acquantances do not have pierced ears. (As a group, we are a statistical anomaly)
I started asking these unpierced women, "Did you want pierced ears in high school?"
They all answered the same.
"No."
I could not ignore the evidence.
I had to ask myself, 'if my daughter is going to pierce her ears anyway, what advantage is there to making her wait until 18?'
I had no good answer.
Please daven (or send happy, healing thoughts) for RivkA bat Teirtzel.
With love and optimism,
RivkA
In the Bible, ear piercing is a sign of slavery! (See Devarim (Deuteronomy) 15:16-17)
When I discovered that my father was against piercing your ears, that was OK with me. I did not really want anyone putting unnecessary holes in my body. (Little did I know....)
Over time, I acquired a pretty nice collection of clip-on earings.
I was proud to have unpierced ears.
And then.... betrayal!
My daughter wanted pierced ears.
"You can make that decision for yourself, when you are eighteen," I declared, just as my parents told my sister, repeatedly, every time she asked for pierced ears.
My daughter persisted.
In an effort to placate her, I lent her (and her sister), my clip-on earings.
For a while, I thought I had succeeded.
I was pleased that they were using my earings. Even though they lost several pair, I thought it was worth it if they would lose interest in piercing their ears.
WRONG.
Much to my chagrin, my daughter continued to beg for permission to pierce her ears. (This made me quite sorry that I lent them my earings, since it is IMPOSSIBLE to find clip-on earings anymore, and I cannot replace the ones they lost!)
This summer, I discovered that my daughter had a powerful ally.
One bright, sunny day, my sister pulled me aside. I thought she was about to share with me some super secret. With the greatest air of sharing confidences, she quietly suggested that... I let Y pierce her ears before school starts. Woah! Y is only 14!! She is not even close to turning 18!
My sister, ever so gently, suggested that I do not really want to make my daughter wait that long.
"No way!" I told my sister.
My sister was not so easily deterred.
Over the next several weeks, my sister cajoled me, little by little, wearing down my resistance.
She assured me that my daughter would not "grow out" of her interest in pierced ears. She explained just how much she resented not having pierced ears when she was a kid. And she described how appreciative my daughter would be, if I relented.
I stuck to my guns, and school started with no bodily mutilations.
But my sister did not let it go.
"OK, we missed the beginning of school. But think how nice it would be if she got her ears pierced before Rosh HaShannah...."
"I don't want her to pierce her ears," I repeated, but my arguments were beginning to sound weak, even to me.
I love my daughter. In some ways, she is a lot like me. But not in all ways.
Unlike me, my daughter really is a "girly girl." She is like my sister. She is "into" clothes; she likes shopping, she likes nail polish, she wants to use make up. (My other daughter is the same way, btw).
What can I say? I was never interested in those things. Neither was my mother. But my sister was.
I do not really understand that facet of my daughter's personality. But my sister does.
So, despite my strong facade, I listened when my sister explained how important earings can be to a teenager, and how the desire for pierced ears will only grow stronger, and she will get them anyway, and quite possibly resent me for preventing her from piercing her ears earlier.
I listened.
I recognized the truth of her words.
I resisted.
I reflected.
I wished things were different.
I started noticing who did not have pierced ears.
A lot of my friends and acquantances do not have pierced ears. (As a group, we are a statistical anomaly)
I started asking these unpierced women, "Did you want pierced ears in high school?"
They all answered the same.
"No."
I could not ignore the evidence.
I had to ask myself, 'if my daughter is going to pierce her ears anyway, what advantage is there to making her wait until 18?'
I had no good answer.
Please daven (or send happy, healing thoughts) for RivkA bat Teirtzel.
With love and optimism,
RivkA
Sunday, November 2, 2008
Family Meeting -- Shabbat Preparations
We've been talking about it for weeks (read: months).
We finallly did it.
We sat down an hour later than I wanted to start, but we were all there.
I was surprised at how well the kids listened to each other.
I was also surprised at the choices they made.
All along, I had thought that they wanted choices. It turns out, that did not work for our family, and the kids did not like the stress that came along with all those choices.
So, the kids chose to group certain chores together, and then formed a rotation.
Moshe made a lottery, to choose who begins with which tasks. And, voila, the new system was in place!
We will re-evaluate the system in several weeks.
It took us an hour and a half (half an hour longer than planned). We had to "table" the discussion (i.e. postpone it for the next time) about exceptions to the rule (i.e. what to do when one person can't do their rotation that week).
Towards the end, some of us snapped at each other. The meeting was a little too long, and the time was a little too late, for us all.
We were all exhausted by the end.
Maybe we will institute some sort of "feel good" ritual to end these meetings. (it might be too "earthy-crunchy" for my husband, but I think it's a good idea)
Still and all, I think it was a positive experience.
We just have to fine tune it a bit.
Please daven (or send happy, healing thoughts) for RivkA bat Teirtzel.
With love and optimism,
RivkA
We finallly did it.
We sat down an hour later than I wanted to start, but we were all there.
I was surprised at how well the kids listened to each other.
I was also surprised at the choices they made.
All along, I had thought that they wanted choices. It turns out, that did not work for our family, and the kids did not like the stress that came along with all those choices.
So, the kids chose to group certain chores together, and then formed a rotation.
Moshe made a lottery, to choose who begins with which tasks. And, voila, the new system was in place!
We will re-evaluate the system in several weeks.
It took us an hour and a half (half an hour longer than planned). We had to "table" the discussion (i.e. postpone it for the next time) about exceptions to the rule (i.e. what to do when one person can't do their rotation that week).
Towards the end, some of us snapped at each other. The meeting was a little too long, and the time was a little too late, for us all.
We were all exhausted by the end.
Maybe we will institute some sort of "feel good" ritual to end these meetings. (it might be too "earthy-crunchy" for my husband, but I think it's a good idea)
Still and all, I think it was a positive experience.
We just have to fine tune it a bit.
Please daven (or send happy, healing thoughts) for RivkA bat Teirtzel.
With love and optimism,
RivkA
Saturday, November 1, 2008
Shabbat Preparations -- Involving ALL the children, continued
After posting, I handled the stress a little calmer.
I also called Moshe, and he took over. (Tag-team parenting is the best!)
Later in the afternoon, my child, who was reluctantly doing what I asked, paused to announce "I just want to know when I am done!"
I realized that that is a very important piece of the puzzle.
My child was also extremely frustrated.
This child does not deal well with transitions. I know that. But I never applied that knowledge to household chores.
This particular child needs to know what is expected and when no more will be required.
I tend to assign another task, as soon as the previous task is finished. So there is no clear ending. The child has no way of knowing how many tasks need to be done and when they will be finished. This causes my child unecessary stress.
I need to set clearer guidelines as to what are my expectations, and to give my child (children) a concrete "finish line."
If I have several tasks to assign, it might be helpful to give this child a written list, and say "when you have completed all the tasks on this list, I will not require anything more of you until Shabbat begins."
Please daven (or send happy, healing thoughts) for RivkA bat Teirtzel.
With love and optimism,
RivkA
I also called Moshe, and he took over. (Tag-team parenting is the best!)
Later in the afternoon, my child, who was reluctantly doing what I asked, paused to announce "I just want to know when I am done!"
I realized that that is a very important piece of the puzzle.
My child was also extremely frustrated.
This child does not deal well with transitions. I know that. But I never applied that knowledge to household chores.
This particular child needs to know what is expected and when no more will be required.
I tend to assign another task, as soon as the previous task is finished. So there is no clear ending. The child has no way of knowing how many tasks need to be done and when they will be finished. This causes my child unecessary stress.
I need to set clearer guidelines as to what are my expectations, and to give my child (children) a concrete "finish line."
If I have several tasks to assign, it might be helpful to give this child a written list, and say "when you have completed all the tasks on this list, I will not require anything more of you until Shabbat begins."
Please daven (or send happy, healing thoughts) for RivkA bat Teirtzel.
With love and optimism,
RivkA
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