Trying to Navigate the Mind of a Pre-teen.

My son is 10--sometimes going on 3--sometimes going on 18.  What I mean is sometimes, he still wants to snuggle with me, or eat with his fingers like he's still a toddler.  Then he'll turn around and inform me that kissed his girlfriend at recess.  I'm confused, and if I am, I can only imagine how he must feel.

I was talking to a friend of mine about this, and she said that maybe having a girlfriend will help my son improve his social skills.

So does this mean that my son may actually take a shower every once in awhile?

No. Son says his girlfriend doesn't wash her hair, either.  Now that's true love!

Meantime my husband wants to avoid giving him "the talk" for as long as possible. I can understand that, but I'm beginning to think that maybe an age-appropriate conversation might be in order. My husband doesn't think our son is ready.  I think it's my husband who's not ready.

What I do know is that, except for telling me he kissed a girl, my son does not want to talk to me about these things.  This is when I thank God for cartoons and computers. After all, ask any man; electronics trump matters of the heart-- almost every time.

Some of my friends say that boys are easier than girls in their pre-teen and adolescent years. My take:  Girls may be more emotional, but boys can be sneaky, slippery little devils.  At least mine can.

His girlfriend has her work cut out for her.

Survivor Guilt.

I had a thought as I was walking today.  It's the same thought I get sometimes when I go to the support group meetings: Why am I alive with a malignant brain tumor, when others aren't?

I often have mixed feelings about my current status. I am alive, and despite the invasive nature of my surgery, the and unpleasantness of chemotherapy, I am living a "normal" life. For example, I've enjoyed holidays and gone on camping trips, sometimes while undergoing treatment. I work, albeit on a volunteer basis, play guitar, take long walks, make dinner, clean house, and even--God forbid--drive. Sometimes my life is quite a bit like the lives of those who don't live in what NPR's Leroy Sievers called the "cancer world".

And since I've been off chemo, I've gained back some of the energy required to perform these daily activities, and therefore, can actually enjoy life. For this, I am grateful, and I am trying to make good use of the time I have been given.

Many other cancer patients aren't so lucky. Some don't survive as long as I have, and others are so disabled by their illness that they can't really enjoy the time they have left.  I wish I could give them some of my good fortune, but I can only give them hugs, and understanding.

But I'm still in the cancer world, too.  I am reminded of that every time I get a scan, every time I worry about the results of a scan, and every time I notice I'm still a little weak on one side from the surgery.  I worry about the future; not so much about dying. I expect when the time comes, it will be easiest on me.   It's thinking about what I haven't accomplished that troubles me.

For the moment though, I'm still alive to enjoy my husband's companionship and watch my son grow.  So, I must focus on celebrating each day, one day at a time. And I must get busy setting some goals and trying to reach them while I have time.

I just feel sorry for those who don't get that chance.  We must all remember that life is not a dress rehearsal, it's a live performance in which we must give our all until the final act. 

Dedicated to Monty Python--again.

Dear Eden,

I must again complain in the strongest possible terms about your blog, particularly your recent posts. I couldn't follow your train of thought--AT ALL! Your brain tumor isn't growing is it, dear?

Regards,

E.G. from Tigard.

Dear E.G.

Thanks as always for your concern.  I do not know if my tumor is growing.  I'll find out for sure when I get my billionth MRI in March.  Regarding my recent posts, I can't follow my train of thought, either. Part of the purpose of my blogging is to chronicle the declining state of my mind. It appears in that respect, my blog has been a overwhelming success. 

But to help you out a little, the point of the  "Monkey Mind" post was simply to state what you already know:  I'm f@#cking crazy!

The message of the "Facebook and cancer" post was initially to note how much Facebook is like cancer--it grows. Instead the post turned out to be about me wondering aloud about the timing of my joining Facebook.

I think--no I know--my tumor has given me adult ADHD.  In order for my posts to make more sense, I will need to write down my thoughts as I have them.

Regards,

Eden

P.S.  You must be crazy, too.  You're writing to yourself again.  

Monkey Mind or Mind Monkey?

I went to my brain tumor support group this evening  to hear a neuropsychologist talk about zen-like coping mechanisms for the frustration and anger that come with having a dysfunctional head. He had us do breathing exercises, in theory, to improve our concentration skills by focusing  just on the breathing, thereby ridding us of extraneous thoughts like "brain tumors suck."

Anyway, the wife of one of the brain tumor survivors there used the term "monkey mind" to describe herself. I had never heard the term, but I loved it, so I came home and Googled it. Here is how Wikipedia defines it:

Mind monkey or Monkey mind, from Chinese xinyuan and Sino-Japanese shin'en 心猿 [lit. "heart-/mind-monkey"], is a Buddhist term meaning "unsettled; restless; capricious; whimsical; fanciful; inconstant; confused; indecisive; uncontrollable". In addition to Buddhist writings, including Chan or Zen,Consciousness-only, Pure Land, and Shingon, this "mind-monkey" psychological metaphor was adopted in Daoism, Neo-Confucianism, poetry, drama, and literature. "Mind-monkey" occurs in two reversible four-character idioms with yima or iba 意馬 [lit. "thought-/will-horse"], most frequently used in Chinesexinyuanyima 心猿意馬 and Japanese ibashin'en 意馬心猿. The "Monkey King" Sun Wukong in the Journey to the West personifies the mind-monkey.

Let's see "unsettled"--that's me... "restless" --check..."uncontrollable"--I've won the trifecta!

Granted I've had these characteristics since birth ( maybe I've had my tumor since then). I was my mom's little girl who never slept and would only eat toast. And I can still hear her cursing"goddammit Eden" when I jumped  naked into a fountain at the mall, just because I was hot, even though I couldn't swim. 

Everyone was hoping that getting rid of the tumor would tame my monkey mind. Just the opposite happened. All those traits became more pronounced. Danger Will Robinson!

As much as I like the premise of Eastern philosophy, controlled breathing didn't work for me. I take that back,  It would, until I had to concentrate on something else.

So I take my "I don't care" pills.  At first I felt guilty about taking them, but now I realize I want to enjoy what life I have left, and not completely alienate my family.  Also since I'm missing a huge chunk of my brain,  in theory the drugs are supposed to provide the serotonin  my brain evidently doesn't.

I think I'll go meditate now.  On second thought, I'll go to the mall and jump naked into the fountain. Viva chaos!

                                    

Facebook and Cancer

As I'm writing this, I am again very tired, so forgive any stupid errors, and I apologize in advance if you can't  understand a single word I write.  This post is about my stream of consciousness, so if you are reading, bring a boat a couple of oars and ride it.

I got on facebook by accident, when a long time friend of the family invited me to be a facebook "friend".  It turns out SHE joined facebook to ride herd on her daughter.  

Initially I thought I would just use FB as a tool to keep up with her, but as I started adding information about myself to my profile, faces from my past started popping up, and I had this uncontrollable urge to reach out.  I really didn't know why, and I wasn't expecting any takers.

Since getting cancer, I have tried to live in the here and now and not get nostalgic--or re-hash old regrets about the past.  I also have tried really hard not to worry about my future, but of course I do.

So why did I make connections with old classmates and colleagues, some of whom may not give a shit about what I've been doing--or even remember me? Especially with respect to my classmates, I didn't exactly make a big impression. I just kind of drifted my way through high school.

Getting in touch with former classmates and colleagues was partly an act of narcissism.  By connecting, I assumed someone wanted to connect with me, because I'm special. Just ask me.

But I also wanted to connect with them.  I have memories of these people that often bubble to the surface of my damaged head.  When one has a life-threatening illness like I do, one takes stock of the people in his or her life--good and bad.

The positive piece about getting re-acquainted with these faces from my past is that I can do so without the baggage of school or the workplace. And the lack of direct contact ironically makes it easier to be myself.

When I chat with a former classmate, it's refreshing to find out that I'm not the only one getting older, struggling with the day-to-day business of family, hobbies,  or work. And when I chat with a former co-worker, we are equals,  just people trying to ride the roller coaster of life and maintain balance.

I only wish we knew that back in the day. I'm not sure we did.

Psycho Kitty

Our kitten Sprite  is either cuddly or completely spastic. There's no in-between. She inspired me to look up the lyrics to the Talking Heads song "Psycho Killer" and bastardize them.  If  you've never heard the track "Psycho Killer," it's on the Heads first CD. When you get a quiet moment. try singing along using these lyrics instead:

Can't seem to stay in one place.

I've got sharp claws and a..cute face.

I sleep all day and pounce all night.

Don't touch me...or I might bite.

Psycho Kitty

 Our little Sprite.

mew, mew, mew, mew, mew, mew, mew, mew, mew, mew better

 feed her and clean her box.

You play with a toy and then run to another.

You're mewing a lot, but we can't hear you.

You kill stuffed animals and feathers on a stick.

Kill something once, then kill it again.

Psycho Kitty

 Our little Sprite.

mew, mew, mew, mew, mew, mew, mew, mew, mew, mew better

 feed her and clean her box.

Repeat as needed.

What would be willing to give up?

This is a very good question in today's times. As a nation we are extremely materialistic, and we are paying the price for our greed.

I am just as guilty as anyone of being too materialistic, but that wasn't always the case. For example, my cousin likes to joke about how in college I lived in shit and I was happy.  It's true.  I lived in a "apartment" the size of a bedroom and shared a kitchen with three others. Those were the days!

When I got my first job out of college and moved into my first real apartment, it was infested with ants and  again, pretty small, but I loved it! It was my swamp.

Ever since meeting my husband though, I have had a tendency to collect stuff, which I use, but arguably don't need.

I recently hooked up with an old classmate  named Chris through Facebook (surprised he remembered me), who writes a blog about how and why he pared his stuff down to 500 things.

It got me to thinking what I could give up.  I have mentioned in previous posts my need to de-clutter my head, but it will be easier to to that if I de-bulk myself of (some) material things as well. 

First I should take inventory.  It will be hard because we have a lot of crap, and not all of it is mine.

But it's easy to see places we could cut back, especially where electronics are concerned.  I mean,  do we really need four televisions and four computers? My son has toys he plays with once and then forgets about.  We have books we haven't read since Sputnik. My son has books that we've bought him that he's yet to read.  

So I could start by trimming down those things.

Off the top of my head, here are (some of) the things I wouldn't want to live without:

table and chairs

one TV

one computer

washer and dryer for clothes (if not in house than at least nearby)

one bed

one sofa

an end table of some sort

a car (although my seizures have prevented me from driving on occasion)

a fridge

Now I just need to get my husband and son on board.  Right now they are playing World of Warcraft on separate computers, so this may take awhile.