Blog Post

One year ago it was unknown when I would be able to get back to it.

Six months ago I worried that every hurdle I overcame would put me, nose-first, into another.

Three months ago my Ninja Neurolgist told me he didn't see why not - he'd fill out the paperwork and send it in.

Two months ago I had to postpone it because of travel plans.

One month ago I had a date - nothing could stop me now!

Three weeks ago I realized nothing could stop me, but myself.

Last week, another hurdle, I wondered if I would never be ready.

Yesterday I passed that darn driving test. (At the right DMV!)

Today I know I can generously clear anything else in my path.

Last week was rough.  Beside it being a chemo week, I had the added bonus of an extra empty bank account, extra horse expenses, all of our computers being down for maintenance, a Boyfriend meltdown, more calls from creditors, and now a sick Boyfriend.  Boo hoo, right?

So what to do when I felt well enough, but futz in my garden and yard?  Good news is, I still know my way around a pitchfork and a wheelbarrow!  I raked and moved leaves, turned compost and tended to my fledgling garden. 

So Girlbert, how does your garden grow?  Funny you should ask!  I've harvested two, count 'em, two, tomatoes, but the little tomato plants hold the promise of more, with several green fruits to ripen, and more forthcoming, as evidenced by the many yellow flowers opening on the stems.  Some of the lemon cucumbers are nearly ready to harvest, too.  There's a baby bell pepper, and the very tiniest acorn squash trying to find a spot to settle down and grow.  And my herbs seem to be flourishing in our recent heat wave - basil goes with everything!

But I have no idea what I'm doing, despite all the advice I've received (thank you, gardening friends!), books I've collected, and information I've gathered online.  There are lots of spiderwebs, one split tomato and one with a wormhole, lots of dead leaves, and something ate my first (and highly anticipated!) cucumber already.  Sometimes I think, "Will I ever enjoy the fruits of my labor?  Will anything come of all of this hard work?"

Not that it's all bad.  Those two tomatoes?  Really. Yummy.  And I love hanging outside, with the plants.  And the trees.  And the nature.

So I water my little plants when they seem thirsty.  I carefully remove the spiderwebs, any wilted or half-eaten fruit, and brown leaves.  And I admire them for their perserverance.  I encourage them to do more. 

This week I caught myself telling them, "Grow, little ones, grow!  Bloom, little flowers, bloom!  Grow tall and strong, reach for the sky!  You have great things to do!"

Or is it the other way around?

I'd been thinking about it for months.  Maybe even a year.  Then the day came and went, and I didn't even acknowledge it, at least not the way I should have.  I told a handful of people, "My old grey horse, Reggie, turns 30 today."

Reggie is my grand old lesson pony, left in the fabulous care of a dear friend in Colorado when I moved to Califonia in 2008.  It broke my heart to have to leave him, but it would have been selfish to uproot him and haul him halfway across the country at his age. 

I'd intended to write something sigificant, something memorable, something that would adequately capture the essence of the little grey horse that could.  But every time I sat down to tackle the task I realized just how much there was - just how big this little grey horse really is.

So many stories, so little internet!

Nearly eleven years ago, I had just arrived in Colorado and was in desperate need of a good "baby beginner" lesson mount for my newly established Premier Riding School.  A friend of a friend of a friend told me about this 19 year-old grey Arabian gelding, registered with the Purebred Arabian Horse Association as High Regard.  He was described as having "a lot of use left in him" and the owner was looking to give him to a good home so that he "didn't go to waste".  I'd like to say I rescued him from a nearly abandoned barn, regretfully leaving his stablemate behind, but I realize now that he saved me.  Because he quickly established himself as the safest, most trustworthy, most well-trained lesson horse I've ever had the privilege to call my own.  He became the anchor of my riding lesson program.

Reggie was the horse that endured bouncing, pulling and mixed signals as students learned the basics of horsemanship and balance.  Not that he was a dead-head or without flaws, but I quickly learned not to judge this rough, fleabitten, arthritic, old gelding by his cover.  He was smart.  Too smart, sometimes.  He was sensitive and opinionated (ask my vet!).  And he was funny.  As in, he laughed at his own jokes.  This little grey horse was unmatched in the humor department, and he reminded me to lighten up when I needed it.  So, I laughed with him.

He understood his job, and took it very seriously.  He didn't just carry people around - he safely instilled confidence in the most timid of riders, but knew when a student had turned a corner and was ready to take it to the next level.  He taught me how to teach people to ride.  Over the years I watched him humble countless riding students when they needed it, including advanced show riders and adults.  Just try getting on him with any inkling in your mind that you know more than he does.  Sometimes an advanced adult rider wouldn't be able to get him to trot.  At all.  He was his own version of, "So you think you can ride?"

But he was so much more than just any lesson horse.  I spent at least an hour a day with Reggie, usually six days a week, for seven years.  He was my business partner and my friend.  He taught my students every bit of horsemanship, from the ground up.  I used to tell people, "he teaches the lessons, not me!"  He didn't just teach students to ride, but to listen, as well.  Myself included.

But wait, there's so much more:  Reggie has touched the lives of so many, please complete his story, from your perspective, in the comments below.  Whether it's a whole story, or just a quick sentence, Reg and I want to hear from you!  Spread the word...there's a PRIZE involved - ten notecards with Reggie's face on them to my favorite comment before August 15, 2010!

So today didn't go according to plan.

The plan was to:  A#1)Take driver's test.  B#2)Pass with flying colors.  C#3)Get driver's license back.  D#4)Drive myself to my doctor appointments, pick up groceries, or, omigosh, go see my horse!  The possibilities were endless!

Ambitious, yes, but I'm nothing if not a little determined to make up for lost time these days.  More often than not, my haste to check things off my list comes at my own detriment when those plans mysteriously fall apart...

Me, through frustrated tears: "I like having a plan.  Plans make me comfortable.  But I'm going on two years of nothing going according to plan."
Boyfriend: "I know..." he chuckled and gave me a squeeze, "but let's learn from it, okay?" 

So, I laughed too.  I know that once I can laugh about it, I can learn from it, and this lesson was begging for my acknowledgement.

Sometimes, it feels like the same lesson, on repeat.  I miss something, make a mistake, and the Universe just hits the Play button again.  A lighted placard, patiently illuminating the words "Try Again".  My own little Groundhog Day...

Sometimes I see it right away and laugh with Her.  Sometimes the irony of a lesson slaps you in the face so hard, you can't even see straight right away.  The lesson becomes so profoundly clear, you have to admire the creator of the lesson.  And then you realize it's you.  YOU put yourself in that place to learn THAT.  All the while, She's begging you:  Are you getting it yet?

Like when you go to take your driver's test, after over a year of not being able to go anywhere by yourself.  You're on time, you have all of your paperwork.  And you're at the wrong DMV.  That's right - I drove to the wrong place to regain the ability to drive by myself.  Hmmm...

Today I lost my patience with Her and yelled, "What the F#%*k do you want from me?" 

And She shot right back, "For you to do better."

Right.  I can, and I will.  Three more weeks, but next time, I'll be at the right DMV.

Current location: Aurora, IL, baby!

We're traveling again, so I'm still sorting through pictures and stories, but I've come up with a fun list of fast facts a la Girlbert and Boyfriend's Big Road Trip. 

Equipped for travel and leisure with:

• 1 1991 Toyota Land Cruiser
• 1 bitchin' roof rack (more on that later)
• 1 2-person tent (cozy, with a GREAT view!)
• 1 full-sized air mattress
• 1 feather bed
• 1 blanket, set of sheets
• 2 down comforters (for desert camping, no less)
• 2 mountain bikes, helmets, shoes, tire pump, etc.
• 3 yummy pillows (because two couldn't possibly suffice)
• 1 trunk containing food and food preparation, including Grandma's cast iron pan and Boyfriend's favorite (favourite) wooden spatula (which we left at the first stop, but thankfully promised to be kept safe by our gracious host)
• 2 suitcases
• 1 propane stove

Electronically prepared with:

• 1 inverter with 4 AC plugs with which to charge all electronic devices while on the road
• 2 iPods
• 2 cameras, 1 point and shoot with video, 1 digital SLR with 2 rechargable batteries
• 2 tripods (1 Gorillapod, 1 gianormous regu-pod)
• 2 cell phones (1 smartphone; 1 waterproof, 3 year-old, flip phone - can you guess who belongs to which?)
• 3 GPS'- Garmin Forerunner for biking/running, Garmin 60Cx for bike/auto navigation, Nuvi 760 for auto navigation
• 3 laptops, 1 Windows machine, 2 linux machines that sometimes have issues finding wireless, hence the Windows... (He-hello, Tech Support?)

Just the stats, ma'am:

• Days on the road: 17
• Miles traveled: 2,615 (4,218K for the little brothers out there!)
• Number of videos taken: 43, totaling 2 GB
• Number of photographs taken:  2,388, totaling 17.9 GB (seriously!)
• Number of times we used the Windows computer: 4
• Number of times we used the linux machines: 2
• Number of grocery runs: 2
• Number of meals out: 8 (out of 51 possible meals!)
• Number of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches eaten: 12
• Percentage of crap brought along that was actually used: 32%
• Times we set up camp: once
• Bumper stickers collected: 13
• Average MPG in the Land Cruiser: 12.5
• Days we were home before getting on a plane to our next (exotic) destination: 6
• Number of doctor appointments and blood tests in those five days: 4

Apparently, this is how two nature-lovin' computer nerds traverse the western states in a Land Cruiser!  First stop: Henderson, NV for Girlbert's first hairdo... stay tuned!

We have returned.  What's that?  You didn't know we were gone?  Great.

Our trip had been in the works for months, with the primary purpose being to visit Boyfriend's brother, sister-in-law, and new nephew, James.  Road tripping inevitably involves side trips and unexpected delays, but the plan, as loosely defined as it were, was to get out of California and do something different!  No doctor appointments, nothing concrete, no obligations.  Just drive and see.  Sweet flexibility!

We didn't make a big deal prior to our departure, because my platelets were scary low, throwing my chemo schedule for a loop because "there's really nothing you can do, but wait for them to go back up again."  I wasn't going anywhere until those platelets went back up again.  So much for flexible.

Our first big road trip, our first vacation in, err... two years, all up in the air - because I needed more platelets?

Nobody was going to tell Girlbert there was nothing I could do, so I took those uncooperative little platelets into my own hands.  I opened my mind, Googled, asked my cancer support group friends, took my vitamins, exercised, and I ate and ate the biggest variety of foods I could come up with in five days.  On day five I took my next blood test and marched it upstairs to oncology.

"This is better - whatever you're doing is working!" My uber-oncologist smiled and shook his head as he flipped through the results of my blood tests, past and present.  I'd done my homework, listened to my body, and more than doubled my platelets in five days.  Whew for a flexible mind!

I started my chemo that night.  We packed up and left the next day.

More on the Flexible Adventures of Girlbert and Boyfriend coming soon!

"Watch a plant for 5 minutes, 15 minutes, half an hour, and you won't see any change.  But come back the next day, and there's new growth.  There's always something happening, even when you can't see it."

"Focus on the good, focus on the positive changes, not the setbacks."

"Remember how long you have been training yourself to do things the way you currently do them.  It may take at least as long to untrain yourself; to train yourself to do it a different way.  Change will take time.  Be patient with yourself."

It's been almost a year since my shaman said those words to me.  I repeat them to myself often.  I write them down over and over in my journal.  And I still struggle to remember...

I just recently lamented, "It's been a year, and nothing's changed!"  Staring setbacks in the face seems to be my specialty these days.  

But I bring this up now, because Spring has settled in and set up camp here in the mountains of Santa Barbara.  All she has left to do is wait for Summer to arrive.

And so the next season of my journey has begun.  I'm planting a garden: sowing seeds, digging in the earth, feelings running through me, just as dirt runs through my fingers.  

Gardening has always been a grounding experience (I guess the metaphor's pretty obvious!) for me.  But it's always been my own thing. I drive myself to the nursery, pick out the plants, seeds, soil.  Bring them home in the back of my Explorer.  Set everything up, dig up the soil, set the plants into their new homes, and care for them all summer.  

But this year is different.  This is the first vegetable garden for both of us, in the past I've always stuck to a flower and herb garden.  Just something to do in my free time, and I've mentioned my ongoing interest in making things look pretty, right?  

This is the first time I've ever tried to make a garden make sense financially.  We're trying to actually save money constantly spent on fresh, organic vegetables, and I've never been very interested in crunching numbers.  Leave it to the promise of a garden full of nature's bounty to bring out the "Mathlete" in me!
 
This is the first time I've ever had to plan a garden with someone else.  Every decision must be mutual, because it's our time, our money, our effort.  It's a big lesson in working together, which is hard work for both of us.  And all of my patience seems lacking as eagerly await to get my hands dirty with a project, happy to put off the hard stuff for another day.  Let's buy the vegetables and plant them!  We'll figure it out as we go, right?

So it seems I have much to learn from the vegetable garden this year.  I will continue my lessons in Letting Go and Accepting Help from Others, all while taking an advanced course in Compromise and the Science of Mutual Decision-Making.  And I'm really digging into it.  Sinking my fingers in, sifting through the lessons, sowing the seeds, anxious (but willing to be patient) to unearth the gifts that are sure to emerge from the combined efforts of myself and the universe.

It's been over a year since the event that led to my diagnosis.  Apparently this blogging thing is hard to keep up with when you're not all hopped up on steroids, so I haven't been keeping you all as up-to-date as well as I would like.   Not to mention the fact that all of my excess energy has been channeled toward growing a brand-new head of hair!  (Evidence in the picture!)

So - I've compiled a list of questions that I find myself answering.  Frequently.  I've added a NEW PAGE (a link in the menu above, as well) to this site for those questions, but here's a little teaser:

What and when was your diagnosis?
I was diagnosed with a type 2 astrocytoma in my right temporal lobe - brain cancer - April 27th, 2009.  I'll never forget the date, because I had to make sure and write a blog post honoring my little brother on his 30th birthday (April 26th) before I went to the hospital for what seemed like a possible concussion.  It's important to have priorities.

How did you discover your brain tumor?
I had a seizure while home alone April 24, 2009.  I had been getting ready for bed, it was late, and I brushed my teeth and washed my face.  Then suddenly, I found myself, 'coming to' at my desk, in front of my computer, which had been shut down already.  "Huh - I thought I already went to bed,"  I thought, and went to bed.  I had no history of fainting or seizures.

The next morning I had a headache.  And a fat lip. And when I got up to pee, I noticed the bathroom rug was all wadded up in the middle of the bathroom floor.  Something wasn't normal, but maybe I just tripped and fell in the night and hit my head and didn't remember.  When Boyfriend returned home later that night, and I told him what happened.  The headache persisted.

The following morning the headache was worse.  We talked about going to the ER to see if I had a concussion, but I didn't have insurance and we were broke.  I'd had a head injury before - I knew they'd want to do a scan - cha-ching!   So I decided to take a nap.  After I laid down, the left side of my body began to tingle, my ears began to ring and I detected a horrible taste in my mouth.  (I now refer to these feelings as my 'conscious seizures'.)  I was scared, so I called for Boyfriend, and described what was happening.  It was very uncomfortable, something was definitely wrong with me.  It was time to go.

Boyfriend called his boss about getting his payment for work early so that we could go to the ER.  His boss said, "You just take her, and I'll take care of it."

So we went.  As soon as we got to the ER, and the words "hit my head" escaped my mouth, I was put in a neck brace and strapped to a gurney.  Here we go, I thought.  I had a CT scan and was brought back to a waiting room with Boyfriend.  I had another 'pins and needles' episode, telling Boyfriend, "It's happening again, I'm having that feeling again!"  He called the nurse and she gave me an anti-seizure drug.  She explained to me that what I was feeling was a mini-seizure, that I'd probably had a grand mal seizure at home two days ago and hit my head.

Then the doctor came in. "We looked at your scan.  I'm so sorry, but you have a very large tumor in the right side of your brain.  That is probably what is causing the seizures.  But you need to go to the other hospital for observation and to have an MRI."

Boyfriend was holding my hand, so I squeezed it, looked at him and the tears started.  "I'm so sorry," was all I could think to say.

His face was already even with mine, his eyes locked on my teary ones, "We'll get through this, don't worry."

One wipe with the back of my hand, and the tears were gone.  Of course we will.

More...

We spoke with Boyfriend's 95-year-old Grandma in Chicago the other day.  She came over to the U.S. from Poland when she was just sixteen.  By herself.  She didn't know a word of English when she got off the boat in America.  So, she taught herself English by reading the dictionary.

Boyfriend: "Do you still read the dictionary, Grandma?"
Grandma: "You bet!  It's my bible!"

You go, Grandma.

(Grandma Chowanski in the center at the baby shower in March.  My mom and I on her left. Kurt and Isabel on her right.  Eric's parents, Wanda and Walter, on the far left and far right.)

Today is my little brother's 31st birthday.  By the time I get this posted, he will have already have celebrated with a pint (or two) and some friends in London.  By the time he reads this, he will have another day on his 31 years.

Happy birthday, Little Brother!  I hope you had an amazing day filled with all of your favorite things - music, running and Chipotle burritos!  I love you for being my mirror, my ass-kicker, my finger on the pulse of current music, my teacher, my inspiration and my friend.  I love that we get each other better than anybody else on the planet.  Congratulations on another year well-lived.  There's a Hostess Cupcake waiting for you at my house.

I miss him terribly, especially on birthdays.  One of my favorite things about him is our ability to laugh at anything.  Ourselves.  Each other. He's one of the funniest people I know.

Proof in the video - enjoy!