Mel Results

Yeah...I like it.  I'm sure it will offend some.  I do apologize...but again...I like it.  It puts into words exactly how I feel about the evil, foul collections of atypical cells that invade millions upon millions upon millions each and every year.  It displays fight...and heart...and spirit.  When I was browsing for an image for this post I found countless t-shirts emblazoned with this sweet little saying...and yes...even caps...for those who have temporarily lost their hair to chemo.  I pray I never need one of those caps, but if I do?  You can damn well be sure I'll wear it with pride.

Yes, I'm angry.  I'm angry about a lot of things.  But mostly I'm angry that I have to face my own mortality at least once every six months.  Yes, I am beyond grateful for the advances medical technology has made over the last few decades.  Shoot...I'm beyond grateful for the advances that have been made just since I started having to deal with this.  I know what the alternative entails...but it doesn't mean that that makes it any easier.

My surgeon is an amazing woman.  Even when my ticking time boobs are at their scariest, she is always calm...and normal...and never...ever...mentions the "C" word unless she is holding absolute proof.  I see her every six months and occasionally I'll have two visits in a row with nothing to report.  She'll look at me and smile and say, "If we can have one more like this, we can go to once a year visits!"  I smile...let hope grow...God laughs.  It hasn't happened yet...and this has been going on since well before Hope came home.  I found a lump right before we went to China.  I remember looking at Dr. Van Fossen and saying, "I don't care what you find.  Nothing is stopping me from getting on that airplane."  She smiled at me and said, "Even if we do find something, it can wait until you get back from China with that precious daughter of yours."

The MRI's are the part I suppose I dread the most at this point.  Not because they are scary or painful or anything like that.  They've improved so much that I can just about sleep through them now.  No, the MRI's bring uncertainty...more tests...and giant medical bills.  When she first suggested I have one it was as a kind of baseline.  She wanted me to have one every other year.  Again...hasn't happened yet.  I've yet to have an MRI where they don't find "something".  My first one?  Not only did it find something in my breast, but it also found something on my liver.  Another MRI, two ultrasounds, and two CT scans later, proved that the something on my liver was just a collection of simple cysts...but whatever was in my breast needed to come out.  I was scheduled for an ultrasound guided biopsy.  The nurse explained that the radiologist would use the ultrasound to find the lump and then remove it.  So there I laid on the table, head to the side, draped for the procedure and in walked the radiologist.  He looked at the ultrasound and said, "You know what?  Sometimes a simple cyst doesn't look like a simple cyst.  I'm going to stick a needle in it and try to aspirate it.  If that doesn't work, then we'll do the biopsy."  I remember staring at the sprinkler system while I was being numbed...and I could hear Hope's little voice in my head...singing "The Old Rugged Cross" just as plain as day.  I told him that if it was just a simple cyst?  I was going to kiss him and then do cartwheels down the hall.  He said he couldn't wait.  It was just a simple cyst.

The next MRI...found something...this time in my right breast.  Dr. V has always called my left breast, "the busy breast".  Well...I guess the right side was feeling left out or something.  Did I mention that all of this came after being on Tamoxifen for a full course of five years?  And yes, yes, YES I would take it again in a heartbeat.  I'm already a prime candidate for Evista as soon as I'm able to take it.  So...more ultrasounds...mammograms...did I mention that I have a yearly mammogram...and after each one of those I either have to have an ultrasound or another MRI scheduled?  And let's not forget the other two surgical biopsies.  Ok, so something on the right side.  More ultrasounds...the ultrasound can't find it.  Need another MRI.  Still there...bigger.  Now it's time for an MRI guided biopsy.  Yeah...laying upside down with your boobs in a box underneath you with your arms above your head...scan...pull you out...mark it...push you into the machine...scan...pull you out...adjust...back in the machine...scan...pull you out...numb...cut...all underneath you...insert your own cow/udder joke here.  He then inserted a metal clip next to the spot that would show up on all future tests to show if whatever this thing was would grow back in the same spot.  Oh yes, then I had to go have a mammogram immediately following this surgery to make sure the clip was in place.  Yes...surgery...blood...mammogram.  You get the idea.  Well...I don't have a whole lot of nice things to say about the radiologist that did this procedure.  The wonderful lady who did the mammogram had to change my dressing...and it hadn't even been thirty minutes yet.  Later that day I was sitting on the couch and realized I had a steady trickle of blood down my side.  It eventually stopped...and then?  It got infected.  Yep...you've never known true joy until your boob is infected.  Sooo...start a course of antibiotics for that.  I get the results back...all is well...that was a Friday.  On Monday?  Dr. V calls me and tells me she just got a report from the radiologist.  He didn't feel like he got enough of it for a decent biopsy.  Let's do it again.  She explained that she was just about as happy with him as I was at this point but he's the only one in this area that does the MRI guided procedures.  So we had to schedule it far enough into the future to be clear from any infection.  Three to four days before it was scheduled?  I get a call...the radiologist is going on vacation...we have to reschedule...to a time when Garry had to be out of town for work?  Yeah...special.  It was finally worked out...it was similar to what he did the first time...but this time instead of taking a biopsy he inserted a tiny needle into the area to be biopsied.  I was then wheeled to the OR where Dr. V was waiting for me and where she surgically removed the area and the clip he had placed there earlier.

There have been lots of cysts aspirated in the office either when I go for my six month check-ups or if I find one during my monthly BSE that is new or bothers me.  And no, I'm not having any genetic testing done.  Why?  Is it going to make me any more vigilant than what I am now?  Good Lord no!  I'd hate to see what being any more vigilant would entail!

So, a year ago...time for another MRI.  Yep...something in the right breast.  This time?  Let's check it again in six months.  Okaaaaay.  Six months ago?  Hmmm...that something is gone...but there is a new something...other somethings have gotten smaller...one something has grown.  If the something that has grown shows more growth?  Surgery.  Another one is six months.  ::sigh::

Last Friday was my six month surgeon's visit.  I knew she was going to find something...because I found it earlier this month.  She said she wasn't going to do anything about it until after the MRI because it would show up on the MRI as trauma.  So...MRI is scheduled for next Monday.  Depending on what it shows for this new something, we'll either leave it alone or she'll do a needle biopsy in the office.  And I refuse to think any farther ahead than that at this point.  As for what the MRI will show dealing with the old somethings?  Again...not a clue...all I know is that surgery is staring me in the face, yet again.

I've told you I love my surgeon...I also love my med tech, Amy.  That is one girl I always want on my side.  She takes no crap...and she loves me.  She looked at me last week and said, "Look at you!  My GOD you look GOOD!  WHAT have you been doing?"  This is the girl who will call me just to talk...nothing about work or boobs or cancer...just because, in her words, "I always feel better after I talk to you."  So we're sitting there after my appointment and she's holding my folder which is easily 5-6 inches thick.  She says, "You just...it's just...it's always..."  I knew what she was trying to say.  I said, "Amy?  This is my normal.  I don't like it, I can't change it...this is just my normal.  This is what He's given me.  Some days it doesn't bother me at all...and others it's more than I can take."

So there you go...Mel Results.  That's what I've started calling my test results.  The results are never what I prayed for...never what I wanted...but they are not a death sentence either.

You know what?  Screw those little caps...I've always wanted to shave my head...right?

Be blessed y'all...until the next Mel Results...

Changes

Yeah...so...

The last few days have sent me back into the pit. No, not all the way back to the bottom thank God. Let's just say I tumbled over the edge, slammed against a few sharp boulders along the way and landed on my face a good 50 feet from the surface.

What brought about this delightful little detour? I would hazard to guess that it's a combination of a lot of little things. I've been going full throttle for the last couple of weeks. I'd reached that stage in the grief articles where you are looking forward to life again...feel the need to clean out, start over, organize your life. Mel being Mel, I only have one speed...Mach 20. Fueled by the EXTREME high of a clear head for the first time in months I was the very vision of a white tornado. Rooms that hadn't been cleaned in ages sparkled. It was suddenly no longer taking your life in your hands to open the door to the pantry. The magazines being shoved under the couch since 2007 are no more. I cannot tell you how liberating it was to clean out and organize all of my drawers and in the process throw away two garbage bags full of clothes, and donate another two shopping bags full. I am no longer that person. I don't want to wear her clothes.

I had started on the closet when the bottom fell out. I didn't even want to take my bath last Friday. I felt like crap. I spent my entire Saturday in bed. It was torturous. The sun was shining...it was most probably the last nice day we'll see until spring. Well great...now I'm crying...this just sucks. Sunday? Back to my normal (yeah, whatever that is) self. Up, dressed, sorted laundry, took the girls shopping for their Halloween costumes, had lunch with the fam at Rockne's, even managed to sneak in a walk, albeit a chilly one. Right before bed, the blues returned. Folks, I don't get the Sunday night blues. I haven't since I quit my teaching job, but let me tell you, that's what I had.

This week has progressed and my mood has darkened. Yesterday? On three separate occasions I found myself sequestered in an out of the way, quiet room in my house sobbing...projectile tears...body shaking...gut wrenching...sobs.

Besides being sick and exhausted the girls are doing the holiday thing. You know...every year Hope becomes a loon around no matter WHAT holiday it is and Claire has learned by example. Speaking of examples, Hope's picked up some FABULOUS new things at school. I don't know how many times in the last week she's told me I have a big butt. Let's see...I've also heard that I'm the oldest one in the family (the truth hurts), I have a giant belly, and boy I sure am fat. Swell. And no, she has not heard these things from anyone inside this house because if her Daddy said those kinds of things to me or anyone else Mama would already be in prison for teaching Daddy some manners the hard way.

The sorrow of yesterday is today's anger. I woke up on simmer and it boiled over about an hour ago. I am well and truly pissed at everyone and everything. Today? Without exaggerating? The girls haven't listened to a single thing I've told them. Not once. Mama Vesuvius erupted after lunch when she walked into the girls' bathroom and found...puddles...all over the vanity. I asked why there was water all over the vanity...I thought that was a logical question. Claire chimed in with, "I no do it! Hopie do it!" Sooo...I say, "Hopie? Why is water all over the vanity?" No answer and she was closer to me than Claire. I repeated myself for the third time. She said, "What did you say?" At this point there was actual steam coming out of my ears. I repeated myself a fourth time and was told that she did it because she wanted to and just to see what would happen. The top of my head is getting ready to blow off. Then while I'm ranting at her about the mess she's made she puts her hand to her mouth, blows one of those delightful little fart noises, and laughs herself senseless. Yeah...the explosion was felt three states away. I'm not going to win any Parent Of The Year Awards today.

I think something else that is bothering me has to do with the fact that it will soon be my dad's birthday. He would've been 86 this year. Wow. For those of you that don't know the story:

When I was a sophomore in college, my mother and I had gone into town to do some shopping. When we returned home she looked out the window and said, "Why is your dad laying in the backyard?" This really wasn't an unusual question as I have pictures of Dad sleeping just about anywhere...even in an upturned wheelbarrow. I said, "I don't know, he's probably sleeping." She said, "But the ground is so cold..." I ran out the door like a shot, called to him the entire time I ran through the backyard. When I finally reached him he wasn't breathing and his lips were blue. I started CPR. My mother came up behind me and said, "Should I call an ambulance?" I told her yes. She was frozen in shock. I got up, ran back to the house, called for an ambulance, ran back outside and started CPR again until it arrived. He was pronounced dead at the hospital...massive coronary. He was 58...I was 19.

Losing a parent at any age is hard but somehow I think the younger you are the worse it is. You carry that with you every single day for the rest of your life. I can still tell you that his mouth tasted like cigarettes. Want to bet if I took up smoking after that? I could taste what he had eaten for lunch...and I can't even think about eating said item. I won't share it with you. I don't want to ruin something that you might enjoy by attaching it to someone's death. I have a tremendous amount of anger towards my father for basically leaving me in charge. I became the "mother" that day. My mother is NOT helpless, but will portray that role with relish. There were many things she refused to do that she could've done. I want to be able to say that's done and over with. I want the hurt and anger and the just plain I am SO PISSED OFF feelings to go away. I don't want to hate my Dad because he died.

Add to this the ever present, ever fluctuating hormones and OH what a great life I'm having. I have learned through all of this that feelings LIE. And those frickin' little hormones get in there and poke at those lying feelings with sharp pointed sticks. I have become very good at realizing when the hormones are trying to take control. I try very hard NOT to listen to them. I refuse to make any type of important decision until they stabilize, and when they are as bad as they have been this week? I pull back from anyone I care about...WAY back. My life doesn't suck but that's what my feelings are telling me today. They are telling me that:

1. You suck as a parent. You NEVER should've dragged those children 1/2 way around the world to be exposed to you.

2. You suck as a person. You don't have a CLUE as to what you want to do with your life. You're 46 years old for crying out loud! You have no talent and by the way? You're stupid too.

3. You suck as a friend. Seriously. No wonder nobody likes you.

4. You're old...and you look it. You're trying too hard you know.

5. That thing you've been fighting God about for the last 6 months? Yeah, you're going to lose that too.

6. Need I go on?

Again folks, I KNOW this isn't the truth...ok, so today I PRAY it isn't the truth. I KNOW things are going to get better. I know I can get through this...this is nothing compared to what it was just a few months ago. But right now all I can feel is the hurt and the anger and the frustration.

What helps?

1. Being self aware for one. I know what's happening, I know I'll get through it.
2. Being determined to get through it and back on the course I've plotted for New Mel.

3. Dark humor. Honestly, when I'm like this, the darker the better. I took the girls to Target this morning. As we were passing the DVD's I noticed one called, "Drag Me To Hell". The very first thought that popped into my deranged mind? "No need. I'm already there." It made me laugh people. I needed it.

4. Music? Always. I've mentioned 3 Doors Down before and how perfectly their songs fit my life at this point in time. I'll close with one that seems frighteningly appropriate to this psychotic rant.

Until next time y'all,

Changes
Matthew Darrick Roberts; Robert Todd Harrell; Christopher Le Henderson; Brad Arnold


I'm not supposed to be scared of anything, but I don't know where I am
I wish that I could move but I'm exhausted and nobody understands (how I feel)
I'm trying hard to breathe now but there's no air in my lungs
There's no one here to talk to and the pain inside is making me numb

I try to hold this under control
They can't help me 'cause no one knows

Now I'm going through changes, changes
God, I feel so frustrated lately
When I get suffocated, save me
Now I'm going through changes, changes

I'm feeling weak and weary walking through this world alone
Everything you say, every word of it, cuts me to the bone (and I believe)
I've got something to say, but now I've got no where to turn
It feels like I've been buried underneath all the weight of the world

I try to hold this under control
They can't help me 'cause no one knows

Now I'm going through changes, changes
God, I feel so frustrated lately
When I get suffocated, save me
Now I'm going through changes, changes

I'm blind and shakin'
Bound and breaking
I hope I make it through all these changes

Now I'm going through changes, changes
God, I feel so frustrated lately
When I get suffocated, save me
Now I'm falling apart, now I feel it

But I'm going through changes, changes
God, I feel so frustrated lately
And I get suffocated, I hate this
But I'm going through changes, changes

Changes can be found on my playlist at the bottom of the page.

Breaking The Surface---Part Two

Ok! So as you might remember I had a wonderful road trip and everything was solved! Not. That road trip was just what I needed at the time but it solved nothing. By the end of that week I had had at least one day where I found myself prostrate on the floor, trying to pray but the only thing that was finding its way out were sobs of the gut wrenching variety. And yes, those still count as prayers...God knows better than I what those sobs mean. My girls do NOT witness these scenes. They are busy downstairs emptying every single toy box, drawer, storage cube, etc. and having a righteous blast. Once they are busy I go upstairs to my room, sit on the side of the bed, and talk to God. That is when the tears appear. I'll talk more about that topic in a future post.

Before I go on, let me clarify something. I LOVE my children, BOTH of them. I do NOT want to LEAVE my children...or send them back to China...or make them disappear...or any one of several other ridiculous ideas. That is NOT what this is about. This is about Mel. I already know Mama. I'm well acquainted with her. "She" is the way I'm wired. I'm an empath...a nurturer...a Mama. If there's something wrong, I want to help you take care of it. I want to make you feel better. So maybe what this is all about, is turning Mama loose on Mel. Mel needs to figure out, discover, create the person she wants and needs to be.

So the aforementioned friend...the one who talks me down from my ledges? This person allows me to ramble at will via email. Did I mention said friend is sooo going to heaven? Whenever something is bothering me...confusing me...making me smile...pissing me off...I ramble...and send it off. Besides having a "Living Journal" to share all of this with, I've also got a treasure trove of blog entries just waiting for me to cut, paste, and edit.

The following is a portion of a ramble written the Thursday before Hope's first full day of school...which coincidentally was the day God had to decipher those sobs of mine:

"My heart is crushing dealing with the thought of my baby being gone from me all day on Monday. The fear isn’t that she’s not going to come back. The fear is losing a huge chunk of her…she’s going to have 8 hours a day that don’t involve me. She’s going to have an entire life apart from me at age 6…where Mama Bear can’t be there to protect her from the hurt and the fear and the evil. I was snuggled up to her, reading her a story this afternoon and it just smacked me right between the eyes. This “thing” that I’ve been doing…this routine…this reading to her in the afternoons since she was 11 months old…will be over tomorrow. And yes, I’ll still read to her...but it’s just the saying goodbye. Like when she lost her first teeth…they were the same two teeth she had when she was handed to me.

When I finished reading to her I told her I’d miss her on Monday. She’s amazingly strong that kid…GOD I love her. She won’t cry unless something is absolutely killing her. She reached up and wiped away a tear, never admitting that she was crying, and asked, “Mama…I’m going to be gone all day. Are you going to be ok?” Then she did something she’s never done…ever. She crawled over and draped herself over me for a hug. The kid isn’t affectionate…never has been. I held onto her for dear life and let my tears flow for both of us. I told her I’d be fine…I’d miss her but I’d be waiting for her at the bus stop with Claire when she got home. We talked about all the fun things she’s going to experience in first grade. She pulled back…ground another tear away with her fist and said, “But Mama…if I’m gone all day…how am I going to remember you?” That one just about tore my heart out by the roots. I have worked very, VERY hard…maybe too hard…to make my girls strong, and confident, and independent. I worry about leaving them without a mother…again. So we talked about what Mama smells like…and looks like…and sounds like…and dresses like…and how she can think of those things when she’s gone. She sat there for the longest time…her face not two inches from mine…staring into my eyes…trying to decide what color they are so she could remember. Again…I LOVE that kid."

The next installation is from Monday, her first day. I just reread it...and yes, it's only been three weeks, but all the feelings just rose to the surface again. The thing is...now? I'm able to let them rise to the surface, deal with them, and move on. No more denying they exist...no more pushing them back down:

"This day has already kicked my butt. I didn’t sleep last night. I think I saw every 40 minutes from 10:45 until 6:15. Had both girls ready with time to spare…took the first day pictures…put the “Mama loves you” notes in Hope’s lunchbox and her school box. Talked to her about a bunch of stuff and tried my hardest NOT to cry in front of her. She asked me several times again if I was going to be ok without her all day. I did just fine until the bus was pulling away. She was waving up a storm at me…and her mouth was smiling…but her eyes weren’t…her eyes showed fear. And I *KNEW* she was going to be fine once she got to school…but that one just about killed me. Made it until, I don’t know…10:30 until the big tears came. Let Claire watch tv…I went up to my bedroom and let them out. Was in Hope’s bedroom twice before noon…just to “smell” her. Got a few things accomplished that didn’t really keep my mind off of anything. Lunch was killer. Opening the fridge and seeing her milk in there from breakfast this morning…only having to get lunch ready for one…her place empty at the table. Claire upset and telling me we had to go wait for the bus (like we did when Hope was in Kindergarten) before we could have lunch. After lunch…same thing…only one to make sure she brushes her teeth…one story to read…one monitor to bring downstairs. More big tears after that."

And that day just got better...yeah...right. I had Claire up from nap and we were waiting for the bus at least 20 minutes before it was due. It was the first day, I knew it was going to be late. I didn't care. When it finally came up the hill I could exhale again...and let loose of the picture in my mind of me running after the bus, ripping the door from its hinges, and grabbing my frightened child from her seat. The bus stopped, four of the five children who were supposed to get off got off. The door closed and the bus started moving...and Hope was nowhere to be seen. I waved at the driver and mouthed, "Hope?" She stopped, looked behind her, smiled, then got on the radio and got Hope's attention. One thing I had neglected to tell her? Only the Kindergarten bus drops you off at your own house. NOW you have to get on AND off at the bus stop. I breathed another huge sigh of relief, squeezed the breath out of my oldest child, and walked home.

Things went progressively downhill that week. I had at least two days worth of wordless prayer. I don't think I can say it any better than I already have:

"This week bit. Flat out blew…dare I say sucked ass. Fear and anger and depression the likes I’ve never seen…nor do I want to again. At least earlier this month I’d have a moderately up day or just a stasis day in between. Not so this week…one black hole after the other. Hope comes home insane or exhausted or both. The school/teacher sends home things that need to be done immediately with no instructions. I read through everything…look at her website…look at the school’s website. Nothing. So finally I email her and ask her. Nope…nothing is published anywhere…but what a good idea! She gave me the info I needed and then also added, “I don’t know why they don’t send that information out to the first grade parents.” Yeah…me either. This morning Hope was in tears…SHE’S deconstructing now. She was clinging to me…and remember…this is the kid who is NOT affectionate…and crying, “Mama I miss you too much! I’m at school more than I’m at home!” ::sigh::"

After three weeks she still tells me every day that she misses me too much. I miss her too. So does Claire. But we're adjusting. She loves school and all of her teachers. She thinks being able to buy her lunch is beyond awesome. Recess is still tops on her list followed closely by Gym...although she's talked a lot about Music lately too.

Right now I'm working on a winning streak. I've had at least 12 days that I consider GOOD in a row. Not just baseline days either...there have been a lot of them in there that were downright wonderful...filled with sunshine, giggles, and utter silliness. Today I am feeling blue. But that's all it is...just blue. I'm not sad...nor depressed...nor angry. I think it has a great deal to do with the fact that today is the anniversary of 9/11.

Will I plunge again? I don't know. Do any of us know, really, what our emotions are going to do from second to second, let alone day to day? I fully expect to drop, yes. But I'd like to think it won't be as far, or last as long. But again, how can I know? I will continue to deal with each day as it comes. Some go in the win column, some don't. But so far? He's still letting me get up and try it again the next day.

Blessings y'all,

So Mel...what's going on with...

1) Humphrey? Well, if you noticed the last post and the giant gap of time between posts I guess you've figured out that we lost our precious Humphrey. On the 17th I received news that *my* liver was just fine. On the 18th we received news that not only had the lymphoma spread to Humphrey's liver but he also had the start of fatty liver disease. There are NO words to tell you how badly this whole situation SUCKED. I'm sorry if I've offended anyone but even his oncologist used the same terminology. So, on the day after what we had always considered his birthday, we said good-bye to our boy. I can still hear Hopie screaming, "But Mama! I want to keep him!" Me too princess...me too.

All in all he was NOT a good cat! LOL He wasn't known for his good behavior. But as I told all of his doctors...

"That boy was such an anus…yes…I said anus. We used that word to describe him every single day. 'Humphrey stop being an anus!' 'You’re such an anus!” 'Stop anusing about!' You get the idea. That boy had not one single solitary shred of impulse control. If he wanted to do something he did it…repeatedly…for years. Yet the cat who destroyed more breakables than all of my other cats together, was the same cat who sat next to his brother Horatio until Horatio’s seizures would pass. The cat who would find the highest perch in our bedroom at 2 a.m. and yowl like his toenails were being ripped out, was the same cat who would awaken me in the middle of the night kissing my face. The cat who would get behind furniture and chew electrical cords was the same cat who would walk me upstairs to bed every single night…and perhaps that’s when I miss him the most. He would hear me getting an allergy pill…yes…most cats come when they hear food…he came when he heard my allergy pills. He’d appear from wherever he’d been…and God only knows what he’d been doing there. He’d meow, raise that two foot long tail straight up in the air, I’d take hold if it, and he’d lead me up the stairs."

I miss him more than I ever imagined I would. The house is too quiet...I have much more time on my hands now that I don't have to keep an eye on his activities 24/7. Do I want another one like him? Absolutely not. Would I take *him* back? In a heartbeat.

I played "what if" for weeks...what if I would've noticed the lump sooner...what if we didn't let them operate...you get the idea. It was pointless and all it did was make me feel guilty...I believe I've read it's called survivor's guilt. I also spent a great deal of time being more angry than I ever thought I could be at God. For the life of me I still can't figure out WHY He'd want Humphrey back. One night in the shower (and you know that's where He does all of His talking to me) I was sobbing and basically saying what I just did here. I said, "What do you want me to do!!!???" Loud and clear I heard, "Trust me." I think I went certifiable right after that. "TRUST YOU??? ISN'T THAT EXACTLY WHAT I'VE BEEN DOING??? AND YOU STILL TOOK HIM AWAY FROM ME!!!!" For those who haven't known me for darn near all of my life, I trust no one. Honestly, I think The X-Files snagged my tagline. So to be asked to trust? He knew He was asking something major. Oh mercy...I've got a lump in my throat just thinking about it.

Long story short, I'm going to trust Him. It ain't easy...but I guess following His plan for our lives isn't. I choose to believe that something good will come of all of this. I don't know...maybe Hopie will grow up and find the cure for feline lymphoma...or human lymphoma. I would never ever say that to her though. If she's meant to do that I want her to go in that direction ON HER OWN.

2) Mel? My MRI guided biopsy went well...or so we thought. The results came back benign and we celebrated with pizza and donuts! And then several days later we got the radiologist's report that said something to the effect of "I'm not confident I biopsied the right spot." Well isn't that special? In the meantime the spot he *did* biopsy became infected. So I spent ten days on antibiotics every 6 hours...even set the alarm to go off at 4 a.m. so I wouldn't miss my early morning dose! AND to top it off, this radiologist is the *only* guy in these parts that does the MRI thing. SO, at the end of the month I have to go BACK to him and he is going to insert a guide needle/wire into the spot (please pray he gets the right one LOL) and then I will be wheeled into surgery where MY surgeon who we trust completely will remove WHATEVER this little blip is that is causing so much concern. She (my surgeon) said she truly thinks it's nothing but with two small kids at home that depend on me, she's not taking any chances. Soooo...what was that message that I got about trusting? ")

3) The state of Chinese adoptions? Aye carumba...please pray for everyone still waiting. The CCAA just last week completed matching parents with LID's up to November 7, 2005. YES I SAID 2005!!! People whose papers were logged in two months after OURS are just now seeing a picture of their baby's face for the first time. CCAA has also told at least one country to expect the WAIT...that's AFTER you send your papers to China...to be up to THREE YEARS. My heart ACHES for these people.

4) THE Agency? Don't get me started. This is a MAJOR challenge for me to try and remain even the slightest bit positive. I have so much anger and bitterness directed towards these folks. I work every single day to let SOME of it go. Eventually I pray that with God's help I can let ALL of it go.

We are required to send monthly progress reports for the first year after returning home with Claire and then quarterly for the next two years. We are also required to send pictures with the reports. Well...like the dutiful servants that we are we signed everything the agency gave us and sent everything we were supposed to for Hope. We later found out that the 4-5 pictures we were sending each and every month were NOT going to China as we had been told verbally. The pictures were being used in all manner of the agency's publications both in print and online. We were never notified when our pictures were used...and by the way each and every picture we ever sent them has our name and address printed on the back...we found out five different times by accident. The first couple of times it was kind of flattering...then it just got creepy. I mean, how many pictures do they receive each month and they've used us five times that we know about? How many other instances DON'T we know about? Hope's face was plastered on every single page of the China portion of their website...now removed thank heavens! There are too many creepy folks out there that I don't want having unrestricted access to my girls' pictures.

So when the post placement packet arrived for Claire and I opened the booklet...there was Hope's face staring back at me again. I literally went ballistic. This is a new publication and they are still using her pictures. We haven't sent them a new picture of her since February of '05. Upon further reading there was a waver that we were told to sign basically saying that we give up all rights to our photos and this adoption agency can use them any way they want to. Again...ballistic. Hormones in overdrive I vowed I wasn't going to do ANY post placement save the two visits with our social worker...no monthly reports, no pictures, NOTHING! After I let that eat at me for about a month I decided I couldn't do that and remain healthy. So, I've been doing two months worth of reports at a time. Along with the reports I send one page of thumbnail photos printed off of our computer. At the bottom of this sheet is this statement:

"The Hageman Family requests that (insert the agency's name here) NOT use our photos for any reason without express written permission from us. We will not be signing the release included in the post placement packet. We feel as if (your agency) has overused the photos of our oldest daughter, Hope. While we are flattered that you think she is so photogenic, we would respectfully ask that you stop using her likeness in all new materials. (Your agency) receives countless pictures from parents who would be thrilled to see their daughters’ faces printed in the agency’s materials. Regrettably, we are not one of those families. We feel very uncomfortable granting strangers carte blanche with our daughters’ likenesses.

Thank you for your understanding in this matter,
signed...dated..."

Snarky? Probably. But honestly folks, we've had enough. Not only don't we like not knowing when and for what purpose our baby's likeness is being used, but we don't want anyone to SEE those pictures and think we endorse the services they are about to receive from this agency. I pray with ALL of my heart that no one else has to go through what our family went through with this place. And I'll say it again...it's not just this agency! There are problems with many other adoption agencies.

Garry called the probate court to ask a few questions about readopting Claire. Yes, we have to readopt for our COUNTY. The gal he spoke to said, "Your agency should be helping you with this! Who are you working with?" He told her. She said, "Oh...I've heard they're not very helpful."

On Friday, May 25th we received a letter from said agency. It was full of legalese and basically the only thing I could get out of it was that our home study was going to expire...to which I thought, "big deal". However as you read further there were statements saying, "You will lose your status as an adoptive home!" "You must sign and return this by May 31st!" And what was I seeing in my head? "YOU'RE GOING TO LOSE YOUR DAUGHTERS!"

On the verge of throwing both girls in the car and heading for the state line I called Garry and read it to him. He couldn't make sense of it either. He called the agency and actually got the person who had sent it out. Ok, get this...all it was saying was that if you think you're going to want to adopt AGAIN you need to sign it and return it before the end of the month when your home study expires. If you don't do that then you have to start all over again. He assured her that we would never completely lose our minds and want to go through the process yet again. When she complained to him that she had been fielding phone calls all day over the letter he suggested that perhaps said agency should include a cover letter that EXPLAINED the legalese as she just had.

Yet, in true agency fashion, the letter was dated May 18th...we received it on the 25th...it had to be back in their hands by the 31st. That was Memorial Day weekend...so it couldn't have gone back out in the mail before the 29th. If we DID want to do this again there was a sentence at the bottom of the form saying that $1000 would be needed for the update and if we wanted to use said agency they'd need another $1000 for post placement. Hey y'all...I don't know about you, but we always have an extra $2000 or so lying around.

Done...stepping down from my SAID AGENCY soapbox now.

5) The girls? They are FABULOUS! Absolutely the reason I get out of bed each and every day. Claire is cruising the furniture like nobody's business and eats like a linebacker! That kid will eat anything...and I do mean anything...doesn't have to be food! LOL She lights up like a Christmas tree and squeals with delight when she sees her sister each morning. They are starting to interact with each other and it is just a joy to watch. Of course, with that interaction sometimes comes conflict...not so joyous...but normal!

Hopie finished her first year of preschool and is already looking forward to going back in the fall and being in "The Big 4 Year Old Class" as she calls it. Realizing that she will be starting Kindergarten next year...well...it's simply a terrifying thought! LOL She's excited about going to Vacation Bible School for the first time at the end of the month. Her favorite activities include eating outside on the patio at her new picnic table, playing with Play-Doh, and anything having to do with Disney's Little Einsteins.

Claire's favorite pastimes? Taking off her pants when I'm not looking, ridding her feet of those accursed socks, pulling the barrettes from her own hair AND her sister's, and calling Gus..."Ki-ki-ki-ki". For those of you who don't speak 14 month old that's "Kitty, kitty, kitty, kitty"! ")

Speaking of kitties...we're going to go meet a prospective new furry member of the family tomorrow evening. He has his own story which I will share later. Let's just say that Hopie has already named him and in true Mel fashion, once I saw his picture I knew he was mine.

Until next time be blessed...

No...we don't have our TA yet...and we're not happy about it!

We were told on December 27th that our agency was expecting them the next day. If we didn't hear anything we were to call in two days. Garry called. We were told that CCAA hadn't even started on ours and it would be another week. Call then. Garry called. More excuses...storms...delays...more complicated paperwork...all adds up to still no TA and still no idea as to when we can bring Claire home.

Garry's visa came today! So hey, he's ready...and has 30 days to get in and out of China before we need to buy another one of those. He put January 10th as his date of departure per the agency's instructions. I think we all know he's not going to make that! We've been told that we could leave on January 12th or January 19th. Other folks in the group were told the 11th or the 18th...and now the 25th. The 25th is God's sense of humor times 10. We left to bring Hope home on January 25th, 2004.

THE AGENCY isn't returning phone calls...I found an email in our old account today that we haven't used in over a year from them, apologizing for not returning our call last Thursday. Apparently not returning our call from last Wednesday didn't rate an apology. Again, they've been told numerous times over the last year that we don't use that email address and please update our file...you know the drill.

The email also wanted to let us know that there was no news on TA's yet and that we should be getting our I171H soon as USCIS had sent it out on 12/27. FAX them a copy as soon as we get it. I was as nice as I could be folks...honestly...but I still think my message came off way past snarky. I begged them to once again change our email address. I told them that we've had our I171H since 12/28 and that we notified THE AGENCY on the same day. I won't even go into what I said about the FAX.

I'm done...truly done. It does no good to even try and communicate with them, so I'm done. Sorry Garry but it's all you from here on out. And truthfully, it's been mostly him for quite awhile because I'm just gonna go off on someone.

People whose agencies sent their acceptance letters back weeks after the date we were told ours were sent already have their TA's, consulate appointments, and are leaving as soon as this week. SO! Who knows where this mix-up lies...LIE being the operative word...and yes...I am beyond angry.

I'm going back into drifting in a fog mode...

CORRECTION: In my AGENCY and Paula Zahn inspired ire yesterday I fear I made a mistake concerning Garry's visa. So, with a somewhat clearer head, here is the lowdown on that topic.

Garry's visa is good until June of 2007. He can make two trips to China from now until June and each trip can last up to thirty days.

I felt better for about two seconds after clearing that up then I just got mad again...I hope to God in Heaven that we won't be waiting until June now. : p

Haven't heard about the Paula Zahn thing yet? Well, she had several "experts" on her show last Friday expounding on adopting from China. Basically, I learned that I am only going through this process because it is the "in" thing to do, and I am a racist. (Hey, who wouldn't want to go through this easy, quick, painless process?! International adoption is FUN!!!) It was a simply lovely broadcast. LAST night she had a couple of the panelists back, along with two more who, well, had a clue! It was slightly better but...well...go to the CNN site and read the transcripts.

And the joy just continues...

Well, after my cry this morning I called Garry and told him the news. He was as thrilled as I was obviously. I then shoved a Twix bar into my mouth and turned on Joyce Meyer. As usual, God was using her to speak directly to my situation. I was reminded that in life there are going to be times of joy AND times of sorrow, but God always has my back. It is MY job to stop acting like a whiny brat and go on with my life and trust HIM to do what is right. I did some seriously loud sobbing, and then my day really turned around...for awhile. I even vowed to write a best seller titled, "God & Chocolate".

The phone rang this morning and it was our social worker. Remember I said we had to redo our I600A? Garry sent all of that in to USCIS in Cleveland and they promptly sent it all back because we hadn't included the fee for fingerprints. Garry found the amendment to our current I171H that clearly states that our fingerprints are good until November 2007, copied it, and sent everything back to them. So far so good. They also need an update from our social worker, which brings me to her call this morning. Apparently someone from the agency called her today and wanted to know where the update was. She knew nothing about it. Apparently they sent her an email and she never got it. I don't know...is it just me or isn't that something important enough to pick up the phone for in the first place? Whatever, it's taken care of now.

Garry then called Chris at the agency to see what's up with our LID. Here's where the fun really begins. The agency did receive referrals today...not for our group though...for the group AFTER us. Yes, our dossiers were sent to China on August 9th, 2005 and logged in on August 25th, 2005. Their's went over later in August and were logged in on September 5th, 2005. Apparently the mix-up was complete in that ours are now September 5th, and theirs are August 25th.

He also questioned her about USCIS returning our packet and refingerprinting. Get this...every USCIS office does it differently...EVEN WITHIN THE SAME STATE. Depending on what Cleveland does, we may have to PAY THEM AGAIN and HAVE OUR FINGERPRINTS TAKEN YET AGAIN EVEN THOUGH WE JUST WENT THROUGH THIS IN AUGUST!!!!!

Fury best describes how I'm feeling...so does depressed...sad and angry work too...and I've even managed to whip out a dark laugh. I'm tired...soooo very tired. I don't want to feel like this. My spirit knows that God is behind this and He knows best. My flesh just wants to yell, scream, and make somebody else hurt like I do right now.

Why is this happening? I don't get it...I really don't get it. I just want to see my baby's face...please God...soon?