Seriously though, Ross - keep singing as long as you're able - it's one of the most therapeutic things. I'm sure some kind of accommodation can be made for your chair.
I'm reminded of a late friend who suffered from polio: she could get about with two sticks for most of the time I knew her, but latterly she had to remain seated in the choir, but she didn't let it stop her singing.
She acted as the prompter for the local amateur operatic society, which meant she could join in the chorus from the wings.
...And when I read 'second altos rule', I initially thought that was the rule where you had to keep them away from the bar before practice.
No, that would be the basses.
(I'm a mezzo-soprano, and could sing anything from second soprano to first tenor comfortably - but I was assigned to the second alto section when I joined this parish and choir, and I am glad of it.)
Actually, I did find a bottle of Saint-Émilion when looking through the wine fridge for something suitable to take to a party tonight. (I'm saving it for myself.)
I had a long talk with my oncologist today. The good news is that I'm off the chemo pills, effective immediately; the bad news is that it's because they're not working, and the cancer has spread quite a lot in my bones.
He and the radiation oncologist have something to treat the bones, and then I'll go one a once-a-week infusion chemo. Fortunately, I still have my wigs from last time.
I appreciate the indulgence of the Hell Hosts in permitting this thread - and I appreciate all prayers, good thoughts, and snarky humor, too.
I went to a farewell party for a colleague this evening (driven by another kind colleague, with the added benefit of getting to know her better), and everyone was just amazed that I made it there.
(But if one more person says, "But you look so GOOD!" I may scream.)
O, BTW, the lady T. I mentioned above has been told she has about 12 months left. She is resolved to devote time to her new grand-daughter, and to her common-law partner.
She is planning to marry him at the Registry Office, followed by a Blessing in Church at Our Place.
We are happy to go with the flow....and, meanwhile, she has asked us for prayer, and has been generously given a hand-held wooden Prayer Cross to keep by her bedside.
Who was it who said that G*d works in mysterious ways?
Thank you for these updates. And your humour. I tend to tread on eggshells and would be one of the ones Ross's Valkyrie sword would cut in 2 because I'd stammer out with "You look well". Thanks for correcting me.
The thing is, I've lost a lot of weight (most of my clothes just hang on me), and I was a little under my ideal weight to start; my scoliosis, which I've battled since adolescence, has triumphed, so I'm hunched over; I can barely walk; the meds have thinned my hair. It just seems an odd thing to say, under the circs. But what DOES one say to someone in my situation? It's awkward.
Well, not especially Hellish.....but the lady I mentioned earlier, who has lung cancer, has been told she has about a year of life remaining.
She is therefore resolved to spend as much time as possible with her grandchildren (especially the latest one, about 3 months old now), and to marry her long-term partner. I think she's also busy making additions to the list of Things To Do...all very positive, IMHO.
So we may have a somewhat bitter-sweet wedding at Our Place (or maybe a Marriage Blessing service, or whatever) to look forward to.
At the end of my drug cycle - carked out on the sofa with Youtube whales and dolpins (and the Little Ginger Dog next to me).
Battery on zero ... 4 days of Nothing But Blank ahead of me ... oh well ... better than being Actually Dead ... and no brain, no pain.
Thank God for my Nutri-Ninja 600W smoozie maker, the kefir grains with 97 different pro-biotics (some kinda Rural Russian ferment-y thing that keeps peasants (and trendy-lefty liberation theologians with inter-faith tendencies!) strong and healthy till 120 years old) .... and everyone's prayers
I hope those Four Days Of Nothing But Blank pass peacefully and without pain, but with you well able to enjoy your smoozies and kefir grains (not sure if they sound tasty or not, but hey - if they keep you warm and upright, what's not to like?).
Never mind about the parentheses - you do just whatever you please with 'em!
Wheelchairs need people to push them, and put them into car trunks. I'd prefer to have been able to take my trip. Oh, well - at least I won't have to change planes at Heathrow, which is always an adventure.
Indeed it does. Might an electric wheelchair be a possibility?
Yes, I realise that they still have to be got in and out of cars, and that they're not exactly foldable, but could there be a use for one in and around home?
Sorry, Rossweisse - I'm sure you've thought of this anyway.....
A friend whose disabled mother recently died gave me her electric wheelchair; now I just need to get it adjusted to fit me and learn how to use it without splintering the furniture. For outdoor use - or downstairs, if my stairs will take a lift - I now have a regular chair (small, lightweight) that I can wheel myself. (My treasured collection of small Oriental rugs has been rolled up and put away.) And an hour ago I ordered a home medical monitor with a wearable pendant. I'm learning a lot, anyway.
Yes, any form of different mobility is definitely a learning curve!
I, it appears, have some form of lumbar spinal stenosis - whether it's a by-product of my brain tumour, or just a sign of ageing! - is neither here nor there. Fact remains, my mobility will probably get worse, so, as with other conditions, it's not a Bad Idea, or an Admission Of Defeat, to explore the options.....
My best friend got Lifeline set up a few weeks before her death. Just a few hours after she got it, she fell down in her apartment and had to yell and yell until a neighbour came to help her ... because ... she hadn't put the pendant on. She didn't tell any of the family or close friends about this; we found out about it from the neighbour. I'm sure she didn't tell us because she knew we would laugh hysterically, which we did.
Yes, any form of different mobility is definitely a learning curve!
I, it appears, have some form of lumbar spinal stenosis - whether it's a by-product of my brain tumour, or just a sign of ageing! - is neither here nor there. Fact remains, my mobility will probably get worse, so, as with other conditions, it's not a Bad Idea, or an Admission Of Defeat, to explore the options.....
I joined this thread about 18 months ago and do not think I have read a post where you mention the condition or prognosiss for your tumour. May I ask for a link, if you have one, but if you'd rather not, then of course I understand. My breast cancer tumour is not aggressive and, because of my age, is being controlled with Letrozole, but I am so very sorry for those with worse conditions. One of my brothers died last year as a result of many complications from his original cancer.
Tonight I went to hear our symphony orchestra. The wheelchair seats are pretty bad. If I can just improve enough to do a flight of stairs, I can go back to my usual spot, and appreciate it all the more.
As you may have gathered, my recent meningioma (2016 resection) was NOT cancerous, but, by G*d, it could have been. Preliminary diagnosis was ambivalent - the biopsy showed, though, that it was a WHO Grade 1 tumour (the good guys who take a year to grow 1-2mm).
Equally, by G'*d, it might not have been, in which case I would probably be currently jumping through all the hoops of chemo- and radio-therapy etc. etc. that others have mentioned.
Comments
<runs away>
Seriously though, Ross - keep singing as long as you're able - it's one of the most therapeutic things. I'm sure some kind of accommodation can be made for your chair.
I'm reminded of a late friend who suffered from polio: she could get about with two sticks for most of the time I knew her, but latterly she had to remain seated in the choir, but she didn't let it stop her singing.
She acted as the prompter for the local amateur operatic society, which meant she could join in the chorus from the wings.
Prayers Ross.
And when I read 'second altos rule', I initially thought that was the rule where you had to keep them away from the bar before practice.
No, that would be the basses.
(I'm a mezzo-soprano, and could sing anything from second soprano to first tenor comfortably - but I was assigned to the second alto section when I joined this parish and choir, and I am glad of it.)
In that case I can say "bugger," and pray too
I went to a farewell party for a colleague this evening (driven by another kind colleague, with the added benefit of getting to know her better), and everyone was just amazed that I made it there.
(But if one more person says, "But you look so GOOD!" I may scream.)
Shitfuckbuggerdamn
Shitfuckbuggerdamn
Shitfuckbuggerdamn
Shitfuckbuggerdamn
Shitfuckbuggerdamn
Shitfuckyshitfuckyshitfuckybuggerdamn
It (sort of) goes the tune of 'What shall we do with a drunken sailor?'
If this becomes this week's earworm, sue me. My People Will Be In Touch With Your People.
IJ
She is planning to marry him at the Registry Office, followed by a Blessing in Church at Our Place.
We are happy to go with the flow....and, meanwhile, she has asked us for prayer, and has been generously given a hand-held wooden Prayer Cross to keep by her bedside.
Who was it who said that G*d works in mysterious ways?
IJ
You are aware some of us have (increasing ) trouble identifying with this problem...[smile]
{{Lady T}}
Thank you for these updates. And your humour. I tend to tread on eggshells and would be one of the ones Ross's Valkyrie sword would cut in 2 because I'd stammer out with "You look well". Thanks for correcting me.
(We now return this thread to its intended Hellish tone.)
She is therefore resolved to spend as much time as possible with her grandchildren (especially the latest one, about 3 months old now), and to marry her long-term partner. I think she's also busy making additions to the list of Things To Do...all very positive, IMHO.
So we may have a somewhat bitter-sweet wedding at Our Place (or maybe a Marriage Blessing service, or whatever) to look forward to.
Battery on zero ... 4 days of Nothing But Blank ahead of me ... oh well ... better than being Actually Dead ... and no brain, no pain.
Thank God for my Nutri-Ninja 600W smoozie maker, the kefir grains with 97 different pro-biotics (some kinda Rural Russian ferment-y thing that keeps peasants (and trendy-lefty liberation theologians with inter-faith tendencies!) strong and healthy till 120 years old) .... and everyone's prayers
I hope those Four Days Of Nothing But Blank pass peacefully and without pain, but with you well able to enjoy your smoozies and kefir grains (not sure if they sound tasty or not, but hey - if they keep you warm and upright, what's not to like?).
Never mind about the parentheses - you do just whatever you please with 'em!
I have just acquired a wheelchair and cancelled my upcoming trip to Egypt and Jordan. Dammit.
MMM
And does a pair of nesting parentheses have little baby commas when the eggs hatch?
Bother about the trip , that sucks
And wheel chairs can be OK, might help you queue jump...
Yes, I realise that they still have to be got in and out of cars, and that they're not exactly foldable, but could there be a use for one in and around home?
Sorry, Rossweisse - I'm sure you've thought of this anyway.....
I, it appears, have some form of lumbar spinal stenosis - whether it's a by-product of my brain tumour, or just a sign of ageing! - is neither here nor there. Fact remains, my mobility will probably get worse, so, as with other conditions, it's not a Bad Idea, or an Admission Of Defeat, to explore the options.....
Tonight I went to hear our symphony orchestra. The wheelchair seats are pretty bad. If I can just improve enough to do a flight of stairs, I can go back to my usual spot, and appreciate it all the more.
Sorry to read GG.
For Peggy who died yesterday after fighting breast cancer for several years. She and her husband were courageous through all her trials.
<Peggy>and her family and friends.
As you may have gathered, my recent meningioma (2016 resection) was NOT cancerous, but, by G*d, it could have been. Preliminary diagnosis was ambivalent - the biopsy showed, though, that it was a WHO Grade 1 tumour (the good guys who take a year to grow 1-2mm).
Equally, by G'*d, it might not have been, in which case I would probably be currently jumping through all the hoops of chemo- and radio-therapy etc. etc. that others have mentioned.