One Year

Tomorrow, May 5th is the 1st anniversary of my grandmothers (Quatrochi) death and lately its been on my mind. She was 97 years old, OK I lied she was "really 96 year old" she had this crazy story about how when she was 14 (in 1927) she wanted to work, her dad had died (he was an alcoholic) and they were very very poor. She was one of 9 kids and they needed money but you had to be 15 to work. She went to the church to get her birth certificate (why,no clue she was only 14) and the church burned down so they told her they would make her a new one "So when is your birthday?" she said "October 4, 1912" when she was really born in 1913. Crack security back then, huh?? So now that she was 15 she could work, her mother at the time used to make Rye in the bathtub (it was during prohibition) to make money but now she could help her mother and siblings. That 1912 birthday stuck with her forever and anytime you asked her "how old are you?" the answer was "I am 82, but really 81", it always made us laugh.

Let me first say that I loved my grandmother but she was not one of my favorite people, in her final weeks I saw a different person, I think maybe the caring grandmother I always longed for. She had a VERY difficult relationship with my father, he was an only child and he felt she always treated him terrible, now clearly I was not there in his childhood years but my father struggled with this for years and I believe what he tells me. He left home at 17 years old for the navy and never looked back, he admittedly said he went just to get out of his home. Now understand, my grandfather, who passed away in 1988 (I was 20) was the most wonderful man ever, so it was fine with me that she basically did not deal with me or that I felt she could not have cared less about me sometimes. Now Glenn (my brother) that was a whole different story, she loved him and would admit that to the end. See, I am my fathers daughter we are very alike and Glenn is much different, very much like my grandfather.

In her later years, after my grandfather died, my father always took care of her, he offered for her to live with us and she wanted no part of it, but she did move into a senior apartment close to our house. Trust me she drove him nuts and continued (in my eyes) to not treat him so well but she was his mother and he took the best care of her he could, I respect my dad more than ever for that.

In the last 2 or so years before she died she became more and more demented and because of it a bit more caring and oh my she loved Ryan, although she called him everything but Ryan, I am not sure she remembered his name actually. All of a sudden April 2010 she stopped eating and drinking, it got so bad she was admitted in the hospital and to make a long story short no matter what was done she would not eat or drink. At this time, I would go to the hospital and sit with her and my father and most of the time she did not know me, and when my dad would say "This is Jill" she would say things like "Oh you grew up so big" or when I bought her Ryan's picture she was shocked that I (her young grandchild) had a baby. This went on and on for a long time, a longer time then you could imagine any 97, really 96 year old could live without water and she had an advance directive stating she wanted no feeding tube or IV for nutrition so her wishes were followed. Then it became worse and that went to really bad and we bought in hospice. Hospice explained to us the stages of death and not eating was something that many people do during the last weeks of life.

In these weeks I saw a different person, a person who no longer was uncaring but a person who now acted like she loved you and wanted to see you. A person who was funny and told things about her past that we had no idea about. This person that would never ever pick up a phone and call me no matter how sick I was or how many days I was in the hospital because she was MY elder, suddenly was wanting to chat with me. I found myself wishing for this person all along and wondered if this is who she was all those years and for some reason never expressed that.

In her final days when she basically was comatose she spoke few words but the words she did speak made you think she was talking to my grandfather. She would say things like "No Joe, I am scared" which made me wonder if her final openness to us was him getting her to do that and make a sort of closure to us and finally show her love for us. After too many days of really the most horrible ending ever, she passed away and I think all of it made me feel differently about her.

I know she loved me as she did my father, I think she was a strong personality who was not expressive with her feeling and frankly just had some personality clashes with us, as me and my father are strong personalities as well. I do now remember as a kid all the things she did do for me when I was convinced she could not care less that I was there. I sadly think I needed the way she died to understand her more and strangely I am happy that she was clarified for me.

RIP Grandma, I know you are with Grandpa, your love, again which is what you waited 22 years for.

Until we meet again XOXO

I Feel Like I Am Starting To Belong

I moved to Central NJ in September 2005 after living my whole life in North Jersey and I honestly never totally felt like I belong.

When Peter and I got married, Peter moved to Little Ferry into my condo at Ledgewood, I loved that darn condo, it was my home that I bought all by myself, all $71,000 of it in 1995, I was not going anywhere, this is where I belonged. I was North Jersey, I was urban, anyone in the "south" part of NJ was a hick, people there say "hoagie" what the hell is that, its a hero people??!! Then we realized that Little Ferry to Cherry Hill for Peter to go to work was like 90 miles ONE way and Peter could not do this forever but heck my job was 7 miles from home, whats the issue? LOL

So we decided lets move in the middle and I would work on moving to a new school district to hopefully one day work close to home and Peter would only have to commute 35 or so minutes to work, so off to Central NJ. Somehow we found our town, our house and here we are. I like my house although I would love a another bedroom, I am not super fond of my town and would welcome a move if the real estate market came back but that's a whole other post. I do love that we have a really big fenced in backyard and a nice bunch of neighbors on both sides,but I always felt like I did not belong 100%. Frankly when we first moved here I was quite depressed and remember saying to Peter "I could fall over and die in the driveway and no one would care about it at all" I wanted to go home but I would have never said that, this was where we needed to be but I longed for friends that were local all while missing my friends that were back home

I then was lucky enough to get a local job in a school district in the town directly west of the town I live, its like 10 miles door to door and I was so very happy to not have the commute anymore. Although again, I was starting over and now I did not even have the connection to North Jersey on a daily basis and again I felt more depressed. But I met some new people at work and it felt more and more like home, but again never like when I lived where I grew up and went to school.

Then the daycare debacle happened and I reached out to the families of the students in our little school. The school that really was very family like unlike our new very big school, through this sad time I started speaking more and more to one mom (you know who you are, I'll leave it at that) and it really has made me feel so much more like I belong. I long for friends that understand me and she absolutely does, actually I think she is my twin who was separated from me at birth we are so alike. While I still have that in my old friends whom I love dearly, frankly I just have such a hard time getting up to see them in North Jersey between work and having a 4 year old.

I really love Central NJ and have for a while and know that I would never return to live in North Jersey ever again. I love the open space, the lack of traffic and living among things like farms and horses, the horses I pass everyday going to work instead of the factories and malls. I love that my parents sacrificed to come here to be near Ryan and know they like it here too, this is now our home. I love all the people I met here but meeting this new friend has made me feel more like I belong, feel more like I have a friend here instead of people I am friendly with, it's really great

To you the friend I am speaking about I am thankful to have met you and hope we will be friends for a long time :-)

The Biopsy AND The Next Problem

So yes I finally did it, I finally had my throat biopsy done, actually I did it April 14th, again I walked my butt into Valley Hospital and some ungodly hour and laid down to let them have at me.

First I would like to say I friggin LOVE Valley Hospital, honestly if any of you in the area of Ridgewood, NJ even need anything done it's really is a wonderful place with a wonderful group of doctors. The staff in every department I have even been in ( and trust me that has been many) are always so professional and nice and take such good care of you, really they are worth there weight in gold and clearly the reason I drive up there for anything I need done.

So we get to the hospital at 6:00 am which required a 4:45 am departure from East Windsor (shoot me!!) and they put my right in the "Same Day Surgery" area. They give me the kick ass, butt baring gown, lame-o slippers with the non slip stuff on the bottom and a brand new hospital bracelet that so nicely lets the world know I am 42 years old, seriously is there a need for this info to get out? Does this change the procedure or anything like that? Lets rethink this Valley Hospital for future visits, OK?

Then the whirlwind begins.....

No less than 5 people are in the room, 1 of who is asking the same questions over and over or the second person asking to list my previous surgeries or the woman jamming an IV in your hand, the anesthesiologist asking some other random questions and then there always is the random people who you know are from the OR because they sport the oh so trendy hair net hat thingy. And you then realize "Crap this is for real"

Ohhhh and let me not forget to tell you about the anesthesiologist I had this time, UGH is my very first thought. Picture this....6 foot, normal weight, bald, big nose, sticking out ears, nerd with glasses, like really a nerd, like the kid you beat up in school nerd but clearly a smart one who went to medical school. He comes in and grabs my chart and it flipping through it and meanwhile the papers are everywhere he is mumbling because he is looking for something and I am trying to talk to him, he is listening but I am starting to freak a little that he is not paying 100% attention. I am trying to tell him about the throat issue and how he needs to know this to intubate me and he is hearing me but he was freaking me out with his disorganization . I said to the nurse (with a oh holy hell look) "Dr Rosen...whew" and she reassured me that he was a VERY good doctor and everyone gets that impression. Dr Rosen from Valley Hospital if you ever find my blog please for the love of god look less scattered your killing me here!! OK? Thanks

So now the time comes and we go into the OR and thankfully my wonderful doctor starts telling the oh so scattered Dr Rosen about my throat and how I am to intubate and what to watch out for. Dr Davis THIS is why you are my doctor and you get paid the big bucks because before now Dr Rosen was scaring the hell out of me. Meanwhile Dr Rosen proclaims "Nurse so and so I need epinephrine in the field please" OH great, crazy Dr Rosen, who I am scared of, now we need epi in case you need to revive me? Please for the love of God put me to sleep, I beg you for narcotics!! And fast.......

Clearly I woke in the recovery room and it felt like Alaska or possible Antarctica, I was freezing and shaking. The nurse takes my temp and says "No wonder your cold your temp is 96" and she throws one of those heated up blankets (FTR...this is the best part of being in the hospital, I really need a machine that heats my blankets up) on me and then one on my HEAD! I mean like a big twin size blanket folded up that it was like a hat that goes around your head and under your chin so you only see me face peeking out, you know sorta Eskimo like. It was HYSTERICAL!! I wish I had my photo.....where is my Iphone when I need it? I need to post to Facebook damn it, Iphone STAT!!!

So my doctor comes in recovery and I swear I am so drugged up and in my Eskimo blankets he was like foggy to me, very foggy and he mentions that my calcium is very high so he is going to have my blood drawn. In my drugged up stupor I say to him "I heard this before from my regular doctor, OK" and proceed to sleep.

So hours later I go home and holy moly my throat is killing me but the codeine is helping a lot, like helping me so much that I could have become addicted to the stuff if they gave me enough but damn them they only give you so much. A week later I get back my biopsy and thankfully it is benign and yes world I am going to live, move over peeps!

No no no not over yet though, lets not jump the gun, I ask about the calcium level which again was high. Now I know from my Medical Laboratory Technician days that a high calcium is NOT good. Calcium is so important in your body that it has it own regulatory organ, actually it is the only mineral in your body that does, they are called your parathyroid glands (you have 4). Now don't go thinking they are related to the thyroid because it is not, only by location as they are located on the back of your thyroid, thus PARA thyroid, Para means "next too", like paralegal or parasite. Look my blog is like a learning tool too!

Anyway, 90% of the time when someone has a high calcium level it is because 1 of the 4 parathyroid glands has developed a benign tumor and guess what, it needs to come out!!! Yes I said it, I will need surgery to get it out, can you believe my life? So we are doing a few other blood tests (which I just did yesterday) to confirm that it is the parathyroid and we will go from there. I am hoping that it is not BUT if it is not the parathyroid gland the other things it can be are worse and with the parathyroid surgery once it is done you are cured

Keep you posted.........

I Miss Him More Than I Can Ever Express

My best friend Carlos was born September 20, 1965 and died May 18, 2003 at the age of 37 years old, it was his daughter 1st birthday, the autopsy said he died of natural causes. It was 3 1/2 months before my wedding, 13 years after he became my friend, only 1 1/2 years after he married, it was one of the worse days of my life and I know for sure I am not alone he was loved by many.

Let me for a second explain who Carlos was. He was 1/2 Puerto Rican and 1/2 German and he had 5 brothers and sisters. Of all the boys in his family he had the most Puerto Rican name and looked the most German, people always were surprises when they would come in work and ask for Carlos and out would come this German looking guy. He looked like a motorcycle guy, well actually he was a motorcycle guy, he had a Harley Fatboy, with long straight hair and he was a big guy, like linebacker big not fat big. He was the Harley guy with a foul mouth who smoked to much and sometimes drank too much too, but he was loving and nice and would always have your back.

I met Carlos in 1990 he was a Mechanic and he worked for me at Laidlaw, we were immediate friends and talked and hung out all the time. He had a 4 year old son from a previous marriage who was in his full time custody and I just adored that child. We did many things together, from just hanging around at his house, "cruising" in his Mustang GT which was stolen out of Jersey City no less than 5 times and a trip to Hershey, PA where we drove along singing to his son "Kyle Kyle bo bile, banana fanna foe file, me my mo mile, Kyle" for hours, yep even the big Harley guy sang that song too, that is who he was, he was a wonderful father. He was the person I called with problems, the person I bitched to and the person who was the most fun!!

Many people in our lives thought we were in a relationship or at least having some sort of sexual relationship and that was not true it never was, he was my friend always and only. We had some of the best times together I will never forget the night we decided we had some sort of talent and made a "band" with a group of his friends, it was the saddest and funniest sight ever or the night we decided to BBQ at his apartment and had nothing to light the BBQ so we used my hairspray, trust me that does not work all that well. Or I cannot forget the night he decided he wanted to go to the strip club so I went with him even after quite a few men told Carlos he better be prepared to protect me, what a blast and clearly I lived through it.

He had taken a job still with Laidlaw in Massachusetts about 2 years before his death and moved away, he wanted his then teenage son to have a life away from the streets of Jersey City, I was never so sad when he left but it was for the best. I still spoke to him all the time, he was my rock and the person who I spoke to about my F-ed up life and health. He was the guy I called when I got engaged, he was first, before my other friends and he was so excited for me. I guess you get it now, he was my best friend.

Monday, May 19th I walked into my office and saw there were messages on my voicemail but did not get to them right away, then the phone ran and it was my friend Kenny (he was a mutual friend of both mine and Carlos) He said "Carlos died" and I said "Carlos who?" never imagining he was talking about my Carlos. Kenny confirmed it was my Carlos and I screamed at him "WHY WOULD YOU CALL ME AND JOKE LIKE THAT" he told me over and over he was telling me the truth and I hung up on him, I was convinced he was lying to me. It took no more than 2-3 minutes to realize he would not lie to me over this and reality set it, it was true. The next few days were horrible to say the least

Here I sit almost 8 years later and I miss him more than I can say. I think about him all the time, I think about how in his 20's he used to tell me he will never live to 40 and when I would ask him why he would says "I don't know but I tell you I will not live to 40" I hear songs on the radio that remind me of him (especially Here Without You by 3 Doors Down) all the time, I see a group of men on motorcycles and I think of him and I dream about him all the time. I am convinced he comes to me in my dreams and could swear that one night while laying in bed he was standing in the doorway, I still feel very close to him, I still feel he is in my daily life.

Life without Carlos is still so raw, still so painful as I write this now after a night of dreaming of him, I have a knot in my throat and I am holding back the tears, wishing I could just call him and talk to him. I still worry about his now 25 year old son (I have reconnected with him through FB) who was the little 4 year old boy we used to sing in the car too, I wonder if he remembers that? I know he remembers what a wonderful man he was.

I loved you Carlos, I love you today. I know you are with me and I know you see what happens to me every day, I am certain of that. I wish I could just talk to you one more time just for 5 minutes, I would do anything for that to happen. I hope you are at peace and it gives me great joy to think that someday when I die and go to heaven you will be there to welcome me and again be my best friend.

So Independent

Today Ryan started a new daycare center, more affectionately called "school" to the working mother crowd. In case you missed it Ryan's former school (that he has been in since 6 months old) closed suddenly and I mean suddenly, just 1 weeks notice.

The daycare debacle (In case you have not noticed I name all the events in my life ,its an illness, you just have to move past it..LOL) was a big one at our house, Ryan has friends at his old school that he loves so much, he talks about them all the time, you know when you are 4 that is a huge part of your life. When I told Ryan that his school was closing, first thing out of his mouth was "Mommy I want to go to school with all my friends", I made no promises that we could do that.

So today was day 1, I have been agonizing over this for days, heck make that weeks! I spent 30 minutes crying to Peter last night over it, over leaving my baby boy and he is crying. Heck normal crying would be bad enough, but the teacher holding him so you can leave while he SCREAMS "Mommmmyyyyyy" while reaching his arms out to grab you crying I could not take and told Peter I may not make it through the day if that happened. Dramatic much??!! But I swear that is how I felt. I have been trying to prep him about the change but this is me here, the queen of overreacting so I was trying to back off some too. I took him on a tour of the new school and he met his teacher too, I hoped that would help. Last night I had him help me pack his brand new Pottery Barn kids Batman tote bag and asked him to help me, figuring it would help with the transition. When in doubt bribe him with Superhero merchandise, works every time!

This morning he wakes and I remind him "New school today" and he says "I'm so excited" and off we go. He did GREAT at drop off even though he was visibly scared and told me so in the car, he wanted to play alone even though some of the boys in his class tried to engage him, but that's my Ryan, he needs time to warm up and pulls away more if you push him. I then told him I had to leave and to my surprise he said "OK mommy" I kissed and hugged him and walked away.....OK I lied I did not walk away then, I walked back for another hug and more kisses and then walked away all while he was watching me looking sad.

I fought away the tears as I left him, I was heart broken that he was scared. It took everything I had not to walk back in there and stay with him until he softened up to playing with others. I realized in that moment how independent he has become and how much of a big boy he is now. Peter said to me last night in my crying rant "He will be fine, kids can surprise you" and he was right, he did surprise me. We went through so many Mondays even at his old school when he cried because he wanted to spend the day with me not at school, and while I secretly loved Ryan for loving me so, I wished he wanted to be at school and did not cry because it hurt my heart so much. Now this time he did not cry and it still hurt my heart so much because I thought he was scared. Ugh where does it end? As he gets more independent I guess this is what happens

For the record I am counting the minutes until I get to go get my little boy, I can't wait to hug him and hear about his day and of course there is a little reward batman costume/cape at home for him, because reward presents work every time too just like bribery, kids are funny like that....LOL

I also have realize today there is a major reason that God gave me only 1 child. He knew that I would be a wonderful parent but he also knew that the worry for more than one child would probably kill me and leave my children motherless.

I can't wait to go pick him up!

For Today I Have It All

Today is much better, I feel less like screaming and more thankful. Today I had my eyes opened (again) to its not as bad as it could be...

I just finished ready an article about a little girl who will be 4 on March 26th (exactly 1 month younger than Ryan), she was recently diagnosed (I believe this past summer) with a brain tumor. This particular type of brain tumor is very aggressive and basically has a 0% survival rate, she is not expected to live until her birthday. They say in the days since the diagnosis it has already grown from golf ball size to grapefruit size and still growing fast. She is living her life to the fullest every day and just returned from a special trip to Disney world from the Make A Wish foundation. Her parents even have given her an early "Toy Story" birthday party.

Amazingly this child (Delaney is her name by the way) so young has accepted that she is going to die and accepted her fate. She recently said to her mother "Oh mommy, I am so excited I'm dying." The mother said "Who told you that?" She said "God did."

Delaney has weeks or maybe days left to live but before she goes she has one last dying wish "...for everyone to give each other a hug"

How sweet is this child?

This is when I said to myself, today you need to get out of the funk. You have a child the same age as Delaney and he is fine, he does not have anything terrible to endure, heck he does not even know what dying really is.

Throat biopsies are nothing, Brain tumors now THAT is something, THAT is something to get stressed about.

I realized that I really do have it all. To be a parent with a child like Delaney how do you deal with such a thing? How do you deal with the fact the baby you gave birth too will be lost to a horrible disease like cancer? Honestly how do you go on at all?

My biggest issue today is if I should get the 2 maple trees in my backyard that I just know will come falling on my house soon, even though they look to be alive, taken out for $1300. Or when the hell the car insurance bill is going to come since it seems to be so late or what day of the weekend to cook corned beef and cabbage because holy crap there is a lot of calories in corned beef but it is so damn good. Mmmm

Today I have it all.....

I will deal with the sword my doctor will put in my throat and all my doctors appointments.
I will pray for Delaney and hope that her passing is not painful and peaceful and God takes care of her
I will pray that her family gets past the loss of their child
I pray that this is something I never deal with, never ever

Today is good and healthy and perfect

Again?! Your kidding me, right?

Again the whirlwind of doctors start and it is stressing me out, actually that is an understatement, I am really ready to scream my head off!

You may remember that back in November when I was going for my abdominal surgery they halted the surgery because a mass was found in my throat, well actually on the back of my tongue, the part that is down in you throat. They looked at the mass back at the time and told me that it needed to be biopsied followed by the wonderful news that general anesthesia was needed to do that because as the doctor put it "It is like sticking a sword in your throat." Thanks doc! Why do I get all the doctors that are comedians?

I was going to have the biopsy done at abdominal surgery "take 2" in December but my Colon/Rectal surgeon talked me out of it stating that if I need a nasogastric (NG) tube due to complications that a swollen and injured throat would be a major issue. Good to know, so if I need a tube jammed in my nose to my stomach the sword cut throat would cause problems. This all sounds like a barrel of laughs doctor. Needless to say I listened and did not do the biopsy at the time and in the end I did not need a NG tube anyway, darn!

So after much procrastinating I need the darn biopsy, I cannot even express how badly I do not want to go and do this but I scheduled it. I originally scheduled it for April 21st, since I am off of work that whole week and this would not require any more days off of work. Well then the surgical coordinator called today, it went like this....

Her: I need to move your surgery, April 21st is Passover the doctor is off all week, I have April 14th
Me: (**thinking** of course he is nothing is easy) Ok make it the 14th
Her: Ok the 14th it is.... Now you need to see he again this month since he has not seen you since November we have to make sure the mass has not grown to much, how about March 14th.
Me: Ok, so we have April 14th and March 14th
Her: Yep and then you need a Pre-OP visit, how about April 8th?
Me: Ok, April 14th, march 14th, April 8th
Her: Then you will need Pre-Admission testing at the hospital, call them maybe you can go on the 8th also. AND you need medical clearance from your primary doctor to so make and appt there too
Me: Got it.......UGH!

So I called the Primary care physical who is on maternity leave which lead to the next story "Oh I don't know when we can see you , this is a special visit since your doctors on leave...blah....blah...blah..."

So now I got appointments on March 14th, April 5th, April 8th and April 14th. I swear my boss is going to kill me!

This lead me to think of the story of the doctor who was a real jerk to all his patients and then he got sick himself and realized how hard this is for the patient. The appointments, the running around, the stress of it all.

I swear I am going to scream!!

Sorry I just needed to get it off my chest