Any night I can quote Shakespeare is a good night...

Hey, did you happen to see the most beautiful girl in the world?
And if you did, was she crying, crying?
Hey, if you happen to see the most beautiful girl that walked out on me
Tell her, "I'm sorry."
Tell her, "I need my baby."
Oh.... Won't you tell her that I love her?

I woke up this morning and realized what I had done
I stood alone in the cold gray dawn
I knew I'd lost my morning sun
I lost my head and I said some things
Now come the heartaches that morning brings
I know I'm wrong and I couldn't see
I let my world slip away from me

"The Most Beautiful Girl in the World" - Charlie Rich



Oh, Chynna... How do I miss thee? I cannot even count the ways. Have you ever wondered what it would feel like to storm the beach at Normandy, only to be riveted by bullets, with limbs and entrails flying every-which-a-away? Maybe you've wondered how a body responds to a plane crash: oxygen masks dangling from the suddenly irrelevant reading light thingy, stomach up in your nostrils, plummeting into a sub-stratosphere....yeah,I think it's a little like that, this losing a child deal. Humans are mysterious,intense, complicated & yet single-celled-simple all at the same time beings, aren't we? We don't know. We just don't know. Until we know.


How do I miss you, Chinks? Well, for starters....wait. Disclaimer time! For all you Moms out there. You know who you are. I was you. Pretty girl. Handsome boy. Elizabethan tragedy encroaching. Mustn't let them too close to each other. Mustn't allow them any unsupervised courtin' time. Well, get this. Turns out, that's something I miss. I miss my daughter and her first love. I miss her talking about him incessantly. I miss her wishing she could spend every waking moment with him. I miss her begging for that extra 15 minutes on Sunday night at his parent's house so she could talk more with his uber-awesome mom. Yes, I miss taking a back seat to someone else in my daughter's life. I see so clearly now. It's crystal clear, baby girl. All those times you told me that he was the one? I believe you now. I'm so sorry I doubted you. He's off at college now. He has a life to carve. He has obligations. He has intentions. He has horrible-sweet memories of you. I am so glad that I'm not where he is, baby. Please, please watch over him. I don't know how he stands it, this aftermath of ours.

So, back to the ways that I miss you....I digress, as I always do. But, here it is. I miss you these ways: I miss your dimple (it was an AWESOME dimple). I miss your mole - right above your lip. I miss your smell - it was like cotton candy and wilted roses. I miss your chubby toes that looked like tiny little sausages. I miss your gorgeous eyes that started out looking just like your father's and winded up looking just like mine. I miss your fiery temper. I miss your strong will. I miss your faith. I miss your convictions, so much stronger than mine. I miss the fact that you never once in your entire life admitted that you were wrong. I miss shopping with you on Saturday afternoons. I miss you wearing all my clothes to church on Sunday morning. I miss your messy room. I miss your super-clean car (at least you FINALLY kept something organized!). I miss your good grades. I miss your brilliant mind. I miss the things you did. I miss the things you didn't quite get to do. I miss your arguments with your father, the ones that always sent you running to me. I miss your arguments with me, the ones that always sent you running into my arms exactly three hours later. I miss our laughs. I miss our cries. I miss us. I miss you. I miss the me that I used to be...when I had you.

I spend all of my time telling people that I'm OK. I can do this. I can sleep. I can eat. I can go back to work. I can do the things that I need to do to appear normal. I can hold it together. I can, too. But, then, some days you walk through life and you see people going through the motions and you realize...hey! My daughter did this one day, and then the next day she disappeared. She never went back to Wal-Mart. She never went back to church. Or to school. Or home. Or anywhere. It just makes you think, doesn't it? She was here! She was right here. And, now she's nowhere...but she's still my daughter. And, isn't a rose by any other name just as sweet? I think so, especially the wilted ones.

Dina Moon - Human Glow Stick

Wake up and see the places
It's all you got and all you take
You don't have to fall to pieces
You have to prove it
Make up your pretty face it's a lovely trip - a lovely place
You got one life here to make it
For the movies

Do you feel singled out
Do you feel less than all the rest
You know it's interchangeable
That spotlight and the pain
I want to get on top of this
I want to build that trust again
And if I give it all I got I'm sure
You'd do the same

"For the Movies" - Buckcherry



Good early mornin' people! Yep, it's just shy of 6 am on this lovely Tuesday - course, I've been awake since 3:30 am. Yep, it was me who had the bright idea to fall asleep at 9:45 last night, barely 15 minutes into "The Way We Were", only to grind my teeth ALL NIGHT LONG (I'm surprised I don't have those little pointy pygmy teeth)& awaken with a nasty headache....but why, you ask - what am I worried about? Well, if I didn't know better, I'd think it might be time for another.....BOOBDATE!

Extra, extra, read all about it! Woman with uncooperative boob takes experimental meds! Now she's growing horns, or dew claws, or several other boobs - just kidding. Here's the good news - drain removed (whelrkj#$:O*$%&&^#O!!!!!!!!!!...and that's a REALLY, REALLY BAD WORD), no more gigantic boob pimples that cause leaky fluid (thus far, at least), AND now sporting the super sensual sports bra! That's not even a joke, either. Every time I had to put on that surgical bra I craved hair nets and chanted "gravy on those potatoes"? I feel GREAT - mostly. I've even managed to start cleaning my house again - sort of. Have I hopped on the hot tamale train to super boobdom??? I think it's a bit premature to assume everything is hunky dory just yet, especially when you hear the other news.

Bad girl, right boob! Very, very bad girl! Apparently, she does not enjoy being all hot and supple. No...she would prefer to run around all knotty and lumpy, so we grow excess scar tissue at a rate that slightly exceeds the speed of light (think of that meteor grass that grew all over Steven King in "Creepshow"). Scar tissue pushes on implant, fluids collect, trouble ensues. So, what is a girl to do? Usher in the age of medicine....how about brand new medicine that just came onto the market? How about medicine that is so new that you can't even Google it (yes, I Googled)? Yikes, Doc! Are you sure about this??? Apparently yes, since I'm picking up said experimental meds this morning for a two month trial run.

Fast forward 2 weeks....will I glow in the dark? Turn into a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle? Have super-powers? Attract hot vampires? Guess we'll have to wait and see. In the meantime, we'll keep on keepin' on. Kevin is doing a GREAT job with the other medical prescription - the boob massage. He doesn't seem to mind at all!

Anything but the Argentinian Tango, please

Oh very young, what will you leave us this time
There'll never be a better chance to change your mind
And if you want this world to see a better day
Will you carry the words of love with you
Will you ride the great white bird into heaven
And though you want to last forever
You know you never will
You know you never will
And the goodbye makes the journey harder still.

"Oh Very Young" - Cat Stevens


There are days, and then there are days. And then, my friends, there are days. I wonder, do hearts break because the mind says it must be so - or does the heart break of it's own accord, & the mind comes tumbling after... like a nursery rhyme? I guess it doesn't really matter. The brain and the heart go hand in hand. I think they take turns leading like two little girls trying to dance together. Maybe my brain accidentally stepped on my heart's toes?

I woke up today and it was raining. I was so happy! The gift of time is a wonderful thing - no rushing, no mayhem, no foolishness - just time today. Time for me. Time for some good nesting. Time for coffee & deep breaths. Time for making biscuits from scratch, drizzled with real butter and honey. Time to think. It's that thinking part that gets me every time.

Do you lie? Ever? Even to yourself? I do. I tell myself that I don't miss her all that much. I tell myself that she's better off where she is - without me. I busy myself with this day and the next one, and the next - until weeks, until months, until years have flown by insignificantly. I tell myself that the world is still an important place, without her. And, then I remember. It's time to think about today. It's time to think about her. The world is not a better place without her. I think, now, for once, that this is not ok. Or fair. Or anything. And, I realize, today is a 12th. Any day that's a 12th is a bad day - it's her day. Her 17th month day. I think she wants me to miss her today - and I do. Brain - it's time for you to lead us off this 12th day dance floor, please. Anyway, I think my heart has two left feet.

Well, I did have lift off, at least?

I went to a garden party to reminisce with my old friends
A chance to share old memories and play our songs again
When I got to the garden party, they all knew my name
No one recognized me, I didn't look the same

But it's all right now, I learned my lesson well.
You see, ya can't please everyone, so ya got to please yourself

"Garden Party" - words & music by Ricky Nelson


You have been cordially invited! Consider this your official "save the date". The honor of your presence has been requested at this magnificent event. RSVP is not even necessary! Wanna come to my pity party today? We can have the oreo/cream cheese dessert my bff dropped off last night, unless I manage to eat it all before you get here. I have milk - there's even some lemonade mix in the pantry if you're feeling adventurous. If not, don't worry. I'm good at commiserating alone...usually.

I don't do this often, but I'm waaaay overdue for a no holds barred, lock the door, not gonna take a bath today, don't care if my lips are chapped, sleepy boogers in both eyes, full on woe is me extravaganza. Do you ever feel like your life just stinks sometimes? Do you ever get the hunch that the stars are stacked against you? Do you ever wonder what the rush is - why are you even trying anymore? I'm there, folks! Of course, I got there in unique Dina fashion. Why, just thinking back....(cue the dreamy music and wavy "under the water" special effects, like when Gilligan used to morph into his dreams about headhunters and how he was crushing on Ginger).....think back.....back....back....(30 minutes ago, at least!)

I woke up. Tummy rumbles ensued. Tried to roll over - egad! I'm being attacked by some sort of transparent, mutant, skinny, 5 foot long snake with a HUGE clear head! Oh - yeah, forgot - I have that lovely drain sticking out of my side. Somehow I managed to roll onto the tubing and I'm accidentally surgically removing most of it all by myself! Let's sit up, shall we? Maybe not - I feel like I've been shanked during the night. Not to worry, a pain pill will remedy that - just give me about 15 minutes and I'll be hip-hop dancing across the bedroom floor. After I eat, that is! All this Tamoxifen, Keflex, & Vicodin has turned my gastrointestinal organs into a science experiment. I'm either growing an ulcer, or I may have managed to artificially inseminate myself with Bella & Edward's next baby. So...eat I will do, then I can self-medicate....then I can hip-hop dance... Ain't nothin' better than a good game plan.

Here we go! Upright - deep cleansing breaths. Don't ever let anyone tell you that getting shanked doesn't hurt! Feet over the side, and HEAVE HO! Houston, we have no problems! I'm standing up! Now, need pajama pants...hmmm. There they are, in the floor. Can't bend over, or else the plastic snake will attack my feet....I know! I'll use my toes to pick up my pants and ease my legs into them one piggie at a time. That's just the sort of mentality that allowed me to graduate 5th in my class, ya'll! Fast forward - 20 minutes later I finally have pants on and have taken enough 2 " steps to get me to the stair case. Now...turn to the side, face the stair wall, and step down, one foot at a time, balancing both feet on one step before moving on. Suddenly I feel like Liza Minelli trying to dance to "New York, New York" after hip replacement surgery #10. Quick, someone toss me a top hat! Fast foward 2 weeks....I'm finally downstairs! Yea! Now....it's time to negotiate (scary music...dum dum DUMMMMMMMMMM).....the dreaded baby gate. Can't go around it. Can't go under it. Don't have enough upper body strength to disengage it.....Someone cover me. I'm goin' over.

I'm short. I have about a 27" inseam and I'm so not even joking. In order to scale this baby gate (it's for the dogs, ya'll - the little pissers are not allowed upstairs), I have to lift one of my legs perpendicular to my waist, extend said leg over the top of the gate, and straddle it somehow. Is there a gun in your pocket, or are you just my baby gate? All this is going on while I am trying to convince my right arm NOT to move one single centimeter away from my body lest the skin in my side will split open and my new boob will wind up in my kitchen, if not across the street in my neighbor's driveway. After several aborted attempts, a few guttural screams, and 15 minutes non-stop of the "Scream" face. I finally wind up on the other side of the gate! I feel like when Dorothy and the gang FINALLY made it to Emerald City and smooth-talked their way past the gate keeper! Woo hoo! Partay time! It is at this time that I fall victim to my own over-confidence. I decide that, due to my superior physical dexterity, I deserve......dessert for breakfast. Darn the arrogance!

Fast forward 20 more minutes. I'm back at the gate. I have milk. I have a spoon. I have a HUGE bowl of cream cheese oreo dessert. I am woman. Here me roar. Well, sort of mew like a kitten, at least. Over confidence is the bane of my existence. It'll get you every time. Especially when you're trying to hip-hop dance with a clear, plastic snake after you've been shanked. I was doing so well. I coulda been a contender! Then, I got cocky. In one horrific moment, my foot slipped, I dropped my milk, my dessert/breakfast landed gooey chocolate side down on the carpeted half of the stair landing, the snake bit me in the side - HARD, and I'm left with bile in the back of my throat - straddling a baby gate with tears in my eyes - holding a spoon. Quick, it's time for a recitation of the Serenity Prayer! This is definitely something I can't change - I just need the wisdom to know the difference.

I won't even go into the part where I pitifully had to try and clean up the chocolate mess using only my left hand. Nor will I talk about how I went to put the dirty towel in the laundry room and found that an attack had been launched at me from the Planet of the Ants. I won't even burden you with the gory details of this dried, scaly patch on my cheek - I refuse to look in the mirror, but I think it's either snot or chocolate - or perhaps a combination of the two. I would, however, like to thank you for coming to my party. You've been a gracious guest. Let me know if you ever need a letter of recommendation. Until next time.....au revoir!

Hey, Doc, Buy Me a Drink Before You Do That!

Brother bought a coconut, he bought it for a dime
His sister had another one, she paid it for a lime.
She put the lime in the coconut, she drank them both up
She put the lime in the coconut, she drank them both up
She put the lime in the coconut, she drank them both up
She put the lime in the coconut, she called the doctor, woke him up,

And said, "Doctor, ain't there nothin' I can take,
I say, Doctor, to relieve this belly ache?
I say, Doctor, ain't there nothin' I can take,
I say, Doctor, to relieve this belly ache?"
"Now let me get this straight ",

Put the lime in the coconut, you drank them both up
Put the lime in the coconut, you drank them both up
Put the lime in the coconut, you drank them both up
Put the lime in the coconut, you called your doctor, woke him up,

And say, 'Doctor, ain't there nothing I can take,
I say, Doctor, to relieve this belly ache?
I say, Doctor, doctor, ain't there nothin' I can take,
I say, Doctor, dooooctor, to relieve this belly ache?'

Put the lime in the coconut, drink them both together,
Put the lime in the coconut, then you feel better,
Put the lime in the coconut, drink them both up,
Put the lime in the coconut, and call me in the morning

"Coconut" - Harry Nillson


Boobdate! I know you've all been on pins and needles lately, wanting to see how things were going. Well, here's the deal: it's been worse, but I sure hope it gets better! Here's the Reader's Digest version:

Went to the Doctor. I said, "Doctor, help me." He said, "Here, let me lance your boob open and re-stitch it." Apparently (though this is purely hearsay as I was running a high fever and don't recall this moment), I said, "Sure, that sounds great!" At this time, he lanced, pushed, drained, stitched, gauzed, and taped - and proclaimed me cured, at least until such a time when he could remove the stitches.

10 days later....

Went back to the Doctor. I said,"Doctor, help me." He said, "Yikes - you again with the boob." He looks. He says, "I see you're still all about collecting the fluid in the boob. What is your obsession with collecting fluid?" I said, "Dude, tell me about it. I used to collect old buttons and music boxes. Now it's boob fluid. I need an intervention." He said, "Here, let me do another surgery on the boob. I have THE BEST idea! We'll put in a new implant and we'll scrape all around the old incision. Then...and this is the best part....we'll send you home with a drain hanging out of the side of your body so that you can squirt out the blood and fluids and measure them at various points during the day." Apparently (again, I was ravaged by pain and don't actually recall vocalizing these words), I said, "Sure, that sounds great!"

2 days later...

I will never feel the same about the word "scrape". It is a vile, evil word! No matter what I wear, it looks like I have a gigantic worm living under my right arm. I have just now managed to negotiate the stairs without extreme nausea, dark spots in front of my eyes, and a funny buzzing sound in my head. I have eaten one bowl of soup, 2 jello cups, and a bowl of ice cream in the last 4 days. I think my shoulder is dislocated and I'm seriously wondering if perhaps my mother is right - I guess, on occasion, they do drop people on the floor of the OR when they're trying to move them back into the bed...hmmm?

Anywho, here's to hoping, right? Here's to hoping that I end up with pretty boobies once and for all. Here's to hoping that Kevin wasn't really that upset after losing his appetite for breakfast today when it took me 1 1/2 hours to get ready! (I was hurrying! It's tough when you can only take 3 inch steps!) Here's to hoping that all of this medicine will kick in by Tuesday so I can go back to work. Here's to hoping that this chapter of my life (I am tentatively titling it "I Drove My Chevy to the Levy, but My Daughter was Gone and I Had Cancer")can be officially closed. Here's to hoping that I will have the strength and the willingness to move on. In the face of adversity. In the face of good things. In the face of bad things. Just, in the face, I guess.

Thinking Inconsequential Thoughts

I occupy my mind with the most pointless drivel,
With things that are at best trivial,
The things that no one else knows
Except we who learned about quiet and evil...
So, we are haunted in the night.

You are so inconsequential,
But your memories rain torrential,
And, as they blow across my mind
Once again you become essential...
So, I am haunted on this night.

See, I do not need you anymore
Need you not do I now, nor ever did before.
Inconsequential, or don't you remember?
Except for when I breathe, or cry, and in the hours before the morn...
For I was haunted on that night, too.