It comes at no surprise my being diagnosed with METS has transformed me into a foul mouthed swearing long shore man type of woman. At the drop of a hat, the F-bomb spews out of this older (and I hope wiser) woman who should know better by using a preferable choice of words such as; dognabbit, son of a gun and gosh darn it all.
Well, it seems the cancer has brought slight changes to my vocabulary and an attitude of--I don't give a flying rat's ass what anyone thinks. While in college the language was completely acceptable (at least in my circle of friends), however, my mother would have had the soap ready to wash out my filthy mouth and despair how she had failed to raise a "proper" daughter. (phrases such as: "You eat with that mouth?" and "Not in this house!" still ring in my ears).
To redeem myself to my departed mother's good graces, I will use another four letter word that would have made her smile and knowingly nod her head in approval.
The profound four letter word? HELP. This mighty word has also given me another companion to use, and that is HOPE. Let me explain.
If you've kept up with the latest Gooze saga, you know Rob and I have been in a @#$%^ (sorry mom) turmoil of personal trials. His bum quad is slowly healing and he now can drive, fix meals and even shower by himself. With his above mentioned activities my level of stress has greatly decreased, however, I will admit the showering, well... it felt almost like the year 1978...but I digress.
My heart issues have been resolved and am now working out again and feeling grand. Which brings me back to the four letter word--HELP. Friends and family assistance came roaring in at a category 4 storm level and, before I could even mutter the H word, meals, flowers, good wishes and a delivery plan for the paper and mail were provided. Their never ending attention was always present and any words of gratitude I could muster do not fully express how much it meant to us. A gigantic thank you will have to suffice.
A multitude of friends helping me plant this spring. |
"Everything will be okay in the end. If it's not okay, it's not the end".
This was a signal for me to alter my thoughts of taking Rob out to the back shed--insert a visual of a lame horse--that, indeed, we would eventually persevere.
Yes, we are both doing much better thanks to the circle of friends and family. I've learned a few things along the way as far as how to help others--for one, just do it-- text and say a meal is on its way or secretly deliver the paper to our doorstep. It takes the pressure off the caregiver and taker to even understand what needs to be done and what to ask.
Help and hope go hand in hand to recover from any malady--big or small. Thanks family and friends for your caring gifts of love. One benefit to your kindness is my foul mouth has taken a slight hiatus for now. My mother would be happy.
One last quick reminder--Mark your calendars to visit the The Oregon Firefly Coffee Shop on August 3rd, 8-4 PM featuring our Art Show benefitting the More For Stage IV fund at the UW Carbone Cancer Center.
Thanks for reading #559 of 7777.
So amazed at your tenacity. The f bomb works wonderfully at times, even if our mothers would not have approved. Sending good thoughts and thanks for the blogs.
ReplyDeleteMary, since my cancer returned the F word is the only word that describes it. Nobody knows unless they have been through it. I only wish I could have helped you. I hope we can meet on August 3.carole
ReplyDeleteBig love to you, Mary and Rob! My heart's with you.
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