Moving forward

At least, in one area of my life.

I know that there are many out there who will be thrilled (ok, that’s perhaps a rather strong word) to hear that I’ve made the decision to go for my radical mastectomy. It’s a huge thing for me, so I’ve planned it for the start of June, which gives me time to prepare physically, mentally, emotionally, and practically.

Physically, I need to work up fitness, particularly in my chest and arms. I’m also preparing myself for the possibility of lymphedema, the most frightening part of this whole deal and the main reason I’ve put surgery off for so long. Right now, I’m learning as much as I can about the prevention and management of that ghastly, incurable disease (yes, there are worse things than cancer - at least, in my book). Practically, I need to gather a front-buttoning, comfortable wardrobe. My shirts and blouses are all pullover. Not that I really need much encouragement to go shopping lately. Shopping, for me, is very much out of character. I’ve always been the Scrooge, thinking twice before spending a penny. This brings me to the mental and emotional part of all this.

This past month has been awful on so many levels. My first lone wedding anniversary was one of the toughest times I’ve had to go through. For many years, we didn’t celebrate birthdays or Christmases as a family. Our wedding anniversary was the Big Event of the year. Much was made of it. Tat and I did our level best to be out there and busy on that day, but it was still rough. The nights are the worst. I rarely sleep more than two hours at a stretch. My scans not long after Jurgis died showed a substantial shrinkage of the tumour. No surprise there. I was militant about my protocol, following it to the nth degree and he helped me, continually encouraging me in my weaker moments. After he died, I seemed to have lost all will. My protocol slid and became erratic. This has shown itself in my scan results. First there was no shrinkage. The last lot showed growth and the tumour isn’t looking ‘healthy’ anymore, so yes, I’m giving up, though not altogether…

The plan is this: Aside from my wardrobe issues, which are really minor - the joys of working in a charity shop are that clothes are easy and inexpensive to come by - there are a few more practical plans to make. I want to make pouches for the drains that I may have to wear for a couple of weeks. I’ve seen examples of these in US and Australian stores. I’ve not seen anything here, but am not worried, as I can make them. It will give me something to do during those long, sleepless nights anyway. After surgery, I’ll stay home for about two weeks before phasing in going back to work. I plan to go back to my anti-cancer protocol after the surgery, though I’ll probably cut back on the number of supplements. I do need to go back to a cleaner diet *sigh* That’s been the biggest factor in my health changes.

It's rather hard to find a non-gory image to illustrate the surgical incision and the drain bags I plan to make holders for. The holders are to prevent them pulling out of the surgical area when sleeping or going out.

I’m sorry I disappeared. I’m sorry I shut my friends out this month. I could barely deal with myself, never mind actually having to make meaningful conversation. At work, it’s easy. Simple customer service and possible chat about the weather. My evenings and nights have been a long marathon of watching TV series and online shopping (a rather troublesome side effect of my emotional state). Having said that, I do now have a couple of purchases that give me immense delight like the little fan I bought to help cope with the brutal hot flushes at night. It’s a bright, sunny yellow and just totally cool, if you’ll pardon the pun.

Onward and upward. It’s a long road, but I’m used to long roads by now, right?

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Some days….

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Technorati Tags: jorge,jurgis,saudades,longing,avril lavigne,wishing

Su Gimtadieniu, Jurgis!

Yes, I know I have used this photo before, but it is one of my all time favourites. One day I'll still have this printed large and mounted on my wall. It is, to me, so symbolic of the spirit of the man (and girl... but the man is the one I want to talk about today).

Strong enough to move mountains (almost literally), but gentle enough to make his 'chick' (Heidi, the irascible cockatiel) feel comfortable. Passionate about history... passionate about his roots... passionate about Lithuania. He dreams of dining on a huge tankard of beer with pork knuckle and sauerkraut. And dreams... he has many... to work his own land, to walk the land of his forefathers again, to build his home, to own and ride a shire. Jurgis is big! Ok, he's built fairly large, being tall and broad shouldered, but he is also big in other ways... a big heart - generous to a fault, a big personality - you know he is there, big hands - let me tell you, they're useful, big dreams, big plans, and big on fun! He's skilled in so many things and what he hasn't already mastered, he'll tackle with gusto, except writing, which you may have noticed by his empty blog.

Jurgis, life would be incredibly dull without you around. I'm so glad you were born. Thank you for all you are and for all you do. You're a very precious part of our lives.

Happy Birthday!

I know you don't want any fanfare, but there you have it... you know I'm not much good at the whole obedience thing ; )

 

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Let me introduce you...

You probably know him by now as the funny guy I tend to tease a lot. You also know that I consider him to be enormously talented. He works magic with wood that most people throw away. He has a way with people. Wherever he goes, people stop to talk to him. He's strong (heck, he can pick me up!). He works like a Trojan when he gets going. He's funny and playful and enormously patient. I mean... he taught me to drive. That takes some doing. He even continued teaching me after I put a sizeable dent into his pride and joy... his first ever car. My very own live-in Mr Fixit, Tech. support, perfectionist, and sometime dishwasher ; )

Today is our 23rd wedding anniversary. Being a man of many interests, even in old hags, there are many things I could get him. There is one thing, however, that I know he dearly wants. I have done research and can only give this gift on a personal level. Officially, it is out of his reach still.

You see, when he was to be christened, the local (yes, here in Brazil) church decided that he couldn't use the name his parents chose for him, as it is a name belonging to a pagan king. They were then forced to give him the Brazilian version of his name. He was registered as Jorge. All his life, he has dreamed of being called Jurgis. This dream has become almost an obsession since his trip to Lithuania.

I have resisted his desire for a name change. After all, I married Jorge, not Jurgis. I have been giving it a lot of thought lately though. Why not? It is something he wants really badly. The man I am married to now is different from the man I married so long ago in many ways. We change nicknames through the years. I often call him names that I didn't call him when we got married, so why not call him Jurgis... or at least try to. It is a small thing on my part that means a lot to him.

Unfortunately, to change your first name in Brazil is virtually impossible. Most people don't even change their last names when they get married because it is such a bureaucratic process. To change your first name, you need to prove that the original name is embarrassing, humiliating, or some other extreme reason. They recommend you hire a professional to deal with it and you need two witnesses to the fact that the name is causing problems for you.

So, I'd like to introduce you to Jurgis, my husband.


Happy Anniversary, Jurgis! Yes, I have issues with names, so I'll still call you all sorts of other things, but to me, you are now Jurgis : )

 

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Hoesê?

I posted the photo of Jorge and I as a group challenge on the subject of 'humour'. The South Africans will 'get' this one.

I'm the hard of hearing one in the family. Jorge, on the other hand, has selective hearing, but we often tease him about being deaf because he is so 'tuned out' a lot of the time. For our anniversary, Tatiana sent us an anniversary card from home with "Hoesê?" (translates directly to "How say?" or "What??" with emphasis) on it. Correctly written, it would be, "Hoe sê...", as a lead in to asking something like, "How do you say....?"  "Hoesê" in this form, though, is a catch phrase in South Africa. It comes from an old TV series where one of the characters would often shout that term. Seffies... please help me out with the name of the program. It is killing me!
PS. Did any of that make any sense to anyone who didn't know what it meant?

Technorati Tags: hoese,jorge,anniversary,south-africa,corrianne,fun

Birthday boy

 

Jorge, the family clown, trouble maker, stirrer of the year...

Over a mug of his favourite Malzbier, we asked him, "How does it feel to be middle aged?"

"I don't feel middle aged," said he.

Tatiana reached over and twirled the curl over his growing bald patch. "So how does it feel to be going bald?"

I think he snarled.... before he got his revenge.... Ooh yes... he got his revenge, right Tat? ; )

Happy Birthday Jorge!

Technorati Tags: jorge,birthday,family

Weird conversation

Photo by Jorge on his trip to Lithuania

Jorge is a strange character. His usual reaction to death or the announcement of someone's death is a super-tactful, "Sh*t happens." Apologies for the expression. I'm quoting very literally. I say, super-tactful, because he has been known to insert some black humour at that point, unless checked. I've always believed that this is because he has no earthly clue how to deal with the subject. Emotion of any sort in himself or anyone else makes him incredibly uncomfortable.
This morning, he called an elderly spinster who apparently knew him and his family when he was just a tiny tot here, before they moved to South Africa. She also knows the Lithuanian lot well. The lady, Irene, was talking about another lady (I forget their connection) who is recently widowed and having a hard time adjusting. She's 70 and her husband was 75. This got Jorge talking about death and then, graves. He has this dream of returning to Lithuania to buy the land his grandfather owned.

This was different. He now wants to find out exactly where his grandfather was buried here in Brazil, so that he can take a handful of soil from his grave to his grandmother's grave in Lithuania. He then wants to renovate her grave because it has been neglected. Those who know Jorge, will know that this is really strange talk from him. He never met his grandparents. In fact, he only recently met his aunt for the first time, his uncle having passed on before he made it to Lithuania.
We have never, as a family, given much credence to burial places. I believe that the grave is empty. It is merely a symbol... a marker. The spirit of the person lives on in our hearts and lives. A meaningful tribute, to me, would be to plant a tree or something in their memory. Jorge is about as unsentimental as they come, so this kind of talk had us wondering if he was feeling... uh... well. Is my husband getting sentimental in his old age? He is, you know... in many ways. Then there are days when he totally blows that 'persona'. Confusing guy....

Technorati Tags: jorge,graves,death

Where's number 3?

Or are we going 1.1, 1.2... 1.10 then 2.0, 2.1, etc until 3? I thought it was supposed to be "Three's a charm".
My day started with our neighbour, at some ungodly hour (it was still dark in my bedroom and my alarm had NOT rung yet), revving his car in front of my bedroom. He must have revved for over half an hour. He then hooted for his kids... and went back to revving once they had all slammed and shouted their way into the car. After a while, I dozed off again.
I should have taken the hint, though, when my pc, after numerous restarts, refused to connect to the internet. It had no right! Perhaps it needed revving too. Finally, I got up and running and was  merrily checking my mail when the cat started crying for her ball. That can get annoying. She wants her ball and wants it now. Trouble is, her favourite ball is transparent and blends soooo well. I found it and asked Jorge to drill the hole in the ball a little larger, so that I could put a piece of ribbon in there, which would make finding the ball easier.

Innocent-looking, isn't it? By the way, the ribbon is held in place by a clove. Our cat thinks that cloves are catnip. We ran out of catnip months ago. This is her substitute.

Jorge ambled off to oblige. A little later, I heard an ominous curse from the kitchen.
One of Jorge's prize tools is his Dremel. He had just blown the motor (or something) by putting it into the wrong outlet. In Brazil, the mainstream power is 110 volts. We are accustomed to 220 volts from South Africa. When we arrived here, we checked all the outlets for 220 and found none. Eventually, Jorge set up a 220 volt outlet in our passage, so that we could use our South African-born appliances and tools anywhere in the house via extension cord. Today, Jorge went to use the one power outlet we never tested because we couldn't see a use for it. This outlet sits above the kitchen sink, right near the faucets. The sink area was clear and just needing a quick spin, he thought he'd just plug in there and drill. He broke his own golden rule of never using an untested outlet, especially with Brazil's rather dubious power. The Dremel was 110 volts. The excess power fried it.
The good news? There is none. Dremel here won't sell just the parts. They will only repair and that will cost. The parts will cost too. Ugh!
Oh... and on the subject of the sink and faucets. We've had no filtered water here for a few days. The thread on the filter's tap was totally shot, so the filter was removed. The new tap cost us a penny today. I think Jorge decided we'd at least have that in the light of the hopelessness of his Dremel.
Then there seems to be something in the air. All over the world, people seem to be antsy and snappy. What is it?

Technorati Tags: ball,power,electricity

Birthdaze - March 19, 2008

This photo makes me chuckle. The afternoon of my birthday, Tat and I went to the village to get some dinner ingredients and check mail. The pizzaria had a new batch of wood delivered and was closed. I stood snapping photos of the wood and the pigeons who frequent the place. The one pigeon, the blue-grey one standing in the middle lording it over the others, is a regular there. I have photographed him before. The pizzaria owner arrived towards the end of my impromptu photo shoot and asked if he 'could help'. The look he gave me was one of suspicion. I think he suspects underhand dealings. I offered to show him the photos, but he declined to look. I think he was just really weirded out by someone wanting to take photos of a couple of birds and piles of wood.

My birthday was wonderful!! Jorge decided I needed to be woken somewhere between 4 and 5am to be wished happy birthday. He was out when I got up much later. Tat scuttled off to the kitchen to pour coffee and bring me my brioche for breakfast. Brioche here is a sweet bun with glaze over the top. I smelt baking, but wasn't allowed to check. I then sat down at my pc to check mail and blogs. I was overwhelmed.... I still find it hard to believe how many people took time out to wish me a good day, some I haven't heard from in many months. A special thanks to Tat (of course), Picture Perfect (Heather), and Libby, for the very special (I have saved them all) blogs for my birthday. I was laughing and crying all the way through them. You guys are amazing! Then there's the PM's I received and the guestbook notes - I'm still trying to respond to them all! I feel loved *grins*

My day was spent on Skype and in my mailbox with friends calling and mailing to wish me well. I got great news that my friend, Fel was out of hospital and doing a lot better. We joked about her hair falling out, that, luckily, it happened at the hospital, so she didn't have to clean it up. Her husband is the sweetest thing. He's pretty bald himself, but shaved the rest of his hair, so they could both be baldies. I asked Jorge today if he would do that for me. He said, "Sure... in fact, I would do it now!" Dumb question... Jorge loves having little or no hair. We tend to harp at him over his 'convict cut'. He hates curls and has a natural tendency to curls. Daft man.


Supper time came and I was banned from the kitchen. Jorge and Tat went off to do supper.... a kind of mock chicken a la king that we have evolved here. I like it, as it is simple to make, light, and tasty. I did follow them though - with the camera. This is my favourite photo... a rare moment with dad and daughter working together. I took many more photos, mostly humorous, but this one is precious to me. While eating supper, we watched a little 'TV' (old rerun series) on my pc. Tat had bought some Torta Hollandesa for dessert. That stuff is divine. It is a chocolate cookie base, topped with a vanilla cream, which, in turn, is topped with a rich chocolate layer, followed by a single chocolate coated cookie.... rich, sweet, smooth, very satisfying.

In all, I had a wonderful day and I want to thank everyone from the bottom of my heart for the part you all played in it!

Baby(ish) - little me, him and her

I was tagged by an old friend who has been very patient with me - not that she had any choice in the matter. In short, I have to post a baby photo of myself, one of Jorge and one of Tatiana (she's gonna love me for this!)

I don't have baby photos of me. My earliest appearance in front of a camera was when I was around 3. It was an old slide. Sadly, I have no idea where it is now. Some of you may already have seen this photo or at least another version of it. It is the closest I have to a baby photo. This is me, being strangled by my brother, Hamish. Poor guy was probably told to give me a hug.


Jorge has never been one for smiling in photos. I can't think why. It is a habit that started very early on. Every photo of his from babyhood is ultra-serious. I am deliberately posting a slightly older photo of him, as there is no true baby photo of me. Got to love that hair!


And now, ladies and gentlemen.... the pièce de résistance. Tatiana, comfortable as ever. We still harp at her about slouching ; )


Omg... I just noticed the similarity in the photos...... I'll say no more. Let the viewers decide and it has nothing to do with the peculiar fashions haha!