Real Housewives of Austin, TX...

...so, everyone is gaga about Reality TV and I don't even watch it - mainly because I don't have cable, thank goodness. As I drove the kids to Ecole this morning...I pitched this series in my mind:
Evan, self-employed artist/signmaker husband, is off on a week long trip to Florida to deliver 3 big ole' vintage signs to a rich client in Boca. I sleep through the alarm and wake up with the sleepy twins in bed with me and 15 minutes to make their lunches, feed them, get them dressed and out the door. Meanwhile, Zelda, with her particular potty training, insists that she spends at least 10 minutes sitting on the potty listening to glam rock, Triple Cobra. Creed, on the other hand is preparing a HUGE bag of various cars, dump trucks and jeeps to haul to Ecole for extended day play.
Loading the car - me, still in my PJ's and my post chemo, platinum blond hair resembling Phylis Diller - I have our builder, Tattoo John, watch the kids as I run in and out to get Zelda extra shoes and leggings in case she pees on them...

Up Mopac, I am writing this scenario in my head. Deliver kids, first Zelda to Gullet, then Creed to Ecole. My sleeping pill still hasn't worn off from the night before. Home to find out we have no electricity on our house renovation job sight, Tattoo John is dealing with inspectors (we haven't passed - yet) and Carlo, our steel guy has just arrived to install 3 flights of our staircase and needs 220 power to run his welder. What to do? Tap into the neighbors fuse box. Woohoo!

I guess I am missing the drama of: lady friends in tight spandex dresses, pedicures, cocktails, plastic surgery, cat fights & such to make this a viable Reality TV show...but this is it...for now...
Tune in for more.
Oh, and by the way, now I am at work, running my own shop and trying to finish a bunch of sewing...

while Daddy's away...

Ce n'est pas normal...

I've had this friend for a very long time in France - going on 30 years now. She's a bit difficult, very Parisian, very particular and quite bitchy. But we've been through a lot together. I remember when I first moved there years ago, I stayed with her while I looked for an apartment. We would fold the linens in the morning, she at one end and me, holding the opposite corners of the sheets. If you've ever tried to fold sheets with someone, it's inevitable that one person will fold in the opposite direction. When this would occur, Marianne would stop and say, "Gail, ce n'est pas normal." - It's not normal to do it that way...When cooking, she would ask me to prepare the salade. As I broke the lettuce and prepared to wash it, again she would say, "Ce n'est pas normal." Any time I would do something that wasn't in tune with the way she was taught or accustomed to living: to her, it wasn't normal. We had explosive discussions about this. And to this day, the semantics have never been resolved.

So, the other day, I had my first appointment with a plastic surgeon. I must interject that throughout these past several years of fertility treatments, premature births, retinal and neurosurgeries and cancer, I/we - the family have had the most wonderful health care professionals. From the ER doctors down to the nurses and PCA's. So, whenever I go to see a new doctor, I come well equipped with my questions and also an attitude of "this ain't my first rodeo". But as I entered this surgeon's office, I felt vulnerable about my discussion of breast reconstruction as an option after my upcoming bilateral mastectomy.

First of all, I have had 4 surgeries in the past 14 months, plus dose dense chemo and weeks of radiation. Now, with this positive BART result to my genetic testing, I am due to have my breasts cut off. Thus reigns the question: to reconstruct or not to reconstruct? I am a AA at best. Perfectly small, Marie Antoinette, non-sagging breasts for which I have never had to invest in any sort of brassiere. I don't want anything bigger and I quite like myself the way I am. That, obviously is not an option. I have grappled with this decision for a while now - do I need breasts? I haven't really had them my entire life and these little ones that I've had have served me well. They nourished my preemies for the first 13 months of life and now, they're done. So, why not just have them taken off and not replaced?

Well, I had hoped to have had an open, frank discussion about this dilemma but unfortunately I have learned that women walk into a plastic surgeons office and are confronted with one thing: the options for the type of reconstruction, NOT whether or not to have it done at all. When I tried to approach the subject, I heard the dreaded words "Women do it to feel normal, to look normal again". Marianne's voice was ringing in my ears. "Ce n'est pas normal."

What the f**k is normal? But moreover, why would anyone want to be...? I will choose abnormal anyday. We will fly the abnormal flag: my daughter who can't see, my twins' who live with tubes in their brains, my husband who went to an Ivy League school and became a cowboy boot collector and artist instead of an attorney, and me...without breasts.

Sigh...I STILL don't know what I am going to do but I do know one thing: I won't be going back to that plastic surgeon.

Missing you...

It would have been my Dad's 90th birthday this week. This photo was taken in 1944. I am missing him so very much...

2010 workin' on a dream...

Trying to break into the New Year while still reflecting on the Old. It's hard to sum up 2009 with good memories so I've decided to do a + and - look back...

Although I was diagnosed with breast cancer in 2008 and had my first surgery before Christmas, 2009 still feels like the year of Cancer, so here we go:

- Had my port-a-cath put in by Dr Ames Smith, BUT +, it was a flawless surgery and easy to recover from.

- Creed hit his chin at Ecole and had his first experience with stitches, BUT +, he was a happy, cheerful, trooper.

- started my first chemo on January 20th, BUT +, Obama was inagurated.

- Had all of my hair cut off and my head shaved, BUT +, shared it with beautiful friends and have amazing photos, thanks to Todd.

- Mom was diagnosed with Stage 2 breast cancer, BUT +, she didn't have to suffer through chemo...

- Lori was diagnosed with Stage 2 breast cancer, BUT +, they were able to shrink the tumor before her surgery.

- 2 months of chemo was hideous, BUT, +, we took the twins to a wonderful outdoor Alejandro Escovedo concert during SXSW.

- Month 3 of chemo was awful, BUT, +, Jerry and Mary visited from NY and we went to see Bruce in concert. Also, modeled in Graphic - the BCRC Art Bra fashion show.

- Final month of chemo was debilitating, BUT +, Manu came from Paris for 3 weeks and I auditioned for a Nike commercial. Also, was contacted by People magazine to do an article about our family's fight with cancer.

- Started Radiation in June, BUT +, got the role in "Driven" - the Nike commercial! Also, took a family trip to the beach and Zelda & Creed LOVED it!! And the People magazine photographer came to shoot us on Father's Day weekend.

- finished 7 weeks of radiation in July, BUT +, headed to Sturgeon Bay, WI to stay with Bill & Kathryn, and then into Chicago to see Margo & Luke and their girls and Gemma, Rowley and Fin and of course, Dr McLeod and the toxoplasmosis research group.

- I was still bald and exhausted, BUT +, Craig and Seth came down to help me take the twins back to the beach.

- Was asked to participate in a Myriad study for genetic predisposition to breast cancer, BUT +, the twins went back to Ecole and and Zelda started her PPCD program.

- Hair was still only under 2 inches long and hated it, BUT +, Zelda and I flew to Pasadena, CA to see Dr Tawansy. Her retinas have remained attached! Creed and Evan took a road trip to El Paso.

- Dad was sick and in and out of the hospital, BUT +, he made it to the twins' 4th birthday party and I was named Honorary Chair of the Breast Cancer Resource Center's Annual Luncheon. I gave the keynote speech.

- Dad was still sick, BUT +, I flew to New Jersey to attend the Camp Beisler reunion and had a wonderful time reconnecting with old friends.

- Lori and tested positive for the BRAT genetic coding and now we have new things to consider in our treatment - which we thought was over, BUT +, I am flown to Beaumount, TX with my friend Deborah to give my speech "Cancer tries on my shoes.." before 1500 people.

- New options for treatment are not good news, BUT +, I am asked to present at Pecha Kucha night with 9 other Austin creatives.

- Dad died...

- Zelda had her 3rd seizure of the year...

- I had my ovaries removed to cut the risk of developing ovarian cancer from 45% down to 4%...there were no cancerous cells in my ovaries.

- Alton visited and Seth and Craig came back for Christmas and New Year's. The kids had a blast. They are happy. healthy and cheerful. We have 3 floors on our house that is under construction. Evan is busy, busy, busy and this year....I will have my breasts cut off.

Happy New Year...

Give me an "O"...

So, Thursday I will have an Oophorectomy...yes, I am being spayed. Having my ovaries removed. It will be exactly a year and a day from my breast lumpectomy. Oh, the holidays bring such cheer.
With the recent diagnosis of our BART status - that is: my sister Lori and I tested positive for a genetic rearrangement of the BRACA gene; we are at increased risk for developing ovarian cancer as well as another "attack" of breast cancer. So, we're sending in more troops to take out the enemy. Dr Buten, a snazzy little brilliant surgeon will be doing the honors. He hopes to use a new technique called SIL - single incision laproscopy. One little cut around my navel and they'll pull those suckers out.
I am exhausted and overwhelmed but managed to go to a half a dozen holiday parties this past weekend and will attend another tonight because as of Thursday, I will be flattened.

Merry Christmas..

Mind the Gap...

Each Holiday season, I tend to enjoy the TV commercials that advertise the Gap. I know, it's trite - but they're usually upbeat with good music and fun dancing, nevermind that the clothes are of no interest to me. This year, there is one in particular that just makes me happy and sad at the same time.

Have you seen this commercial? There is a group of adorable little girls - probably ages 4-7 - they are all dress in whacky bright colors, stripes and patterns, scarves, sweaters and leg warmers. They dance and smile and seem to be genuinely happy with each other. At the end, they sit and form this human caterpillar and all scoot out of the frame...

I want Zelda to be that happy. I want her to dance with glee with her friends. And hold their hands and communicate with them. To acknowledge their existence and relate to their companionship. Right now, she does well at school but still plays by herself. She'll smile and chat but she seems to be alone most of the time. She has to be taught how to play, what friends mean and do and how they relate...

Yesterday, I dressed la petite Z in a flowered skirt, pink tights, striped socks with little ankle boots and a pink and tangerine sweater. She was at least as cute as those girls on TV and I hope just as happy...

the People, the People...

So, for those of you who missed the infamous People magazine article, since the Oprah cover story is now being replaced by Tiger Woods and his scandal: