No Woman, No Cry.

So, today is a low day. I don't know if it's a factor of the steroids that I'm on (they can cause moodiness), or if it's the fact that I still can't function like a normal person. I'm tired of this. I need to hear that things are going to get better--even if they aren't. I try to be okay with the fact that it may just never get better, but the reality of that is really hard to take.

Realistically, today was better than I was even four days ago (at least physically). I actually got out of the house and was able to buy some books and other items that I've been wanting to pick up. Four or five days ago, I was holding onto walls trying to balance myself, like a toddler. So, there has been definite progress. The problem is this tremendous fluctuation. I mean, trying to stand and having to hold onto things, or every time I want to change my clothes, I have to sit down. It's really frustrating. And today, it's catching up to me.

I need to hear it. I have some songs that help me with it: Bob Marley & The Wailers' "No Woman, No Cry," Peter Gabriel's "Don't Give Up," and Nina Simone's "Ooh Child (Things are Going to Get Better)," but I could use some more. If you folks know of any songs that I can blast in my ears when I get like this, please pass along the titles.

Sunday Morning

I know it's Saturday morning that I'm posting this, but the title of this post isn't in reference to today, it's in reference to my latest painting. This one is also for the show in March, which now has a title of "Angles." The main subject of the painting is actually my grandmother. I chose her for a subject, not just because I wanted to document this woman in my family, but because I'm trying to represent the many roles of women for this show: mothers, friends, relatives, lovers, as well as self. Through the paintings of these women, I'm hoping to address such issues as beauty (quest for and question of), aging, sexuality, fertility, strength (physical vs. emotional), motherhood, and health.

Dreamer

Those of you who know me personally, know that I'm notorious for having strange dreams which I inflict upon any listening ear. I have been good--I haven't been recounting many of them lately. However, last night I had a dream that was so potent, I think I should share it.

I dreamt that I was a duck. I was swimming with another duck down, or rather up, a ramp. We were out for a leisurely “duck stroll.” Talking about stuff. Floating on the waters and paddling along with our webbed feet. Rather calming. I was saying how I had interpreted recent actions to be a sign of romantic interest in me. The other duck chuckled and asked what sorts of things gave that impression. It wasn't a mean chuckle, more like a friend. I started to give an example when we reached the height of the ramp. Our conversation stopped as I peered over the edge of the ramp to see how far down the jump would be to the river below. I nearly lost my stomach when I saw that the height was literally like a skyscraper! It was ridiculously far! I thought, “My heart won't be able to take that. It will be worse than the tallest roller coaster ride that I've ever been on!” I remember turning to the other duck and explaining my concern and stammering certainty that I wouldn't and couldn't take that jump and that I would have to go back down the ramp.

I thought about sliding down, but there was some sort of large boat starting up the ramp as well. With the sheer height and length of the ramp, I was afraid that I would slide right into the boat. Instead, there were little stairs on the sides of the ramp (like a flume gorge ride) and I figured I would just go down those. The other duck was neutrally in the background at this moment. Almost like saying, "Suit yourself."

At this point, I woke up, because I had to go to the bathroom.

And then I realized it. I COULD have made the jump. I was a DUCK. I could have just flown down. I was so scared of the jump that I didn'’t think of flying. I thought it was impossible.

Walking back through molasses

So, for the past few days the breathing has actually begun to get better. It's making me think that Lister might actually know what he's doing. ;-) At first, I was hesitant to post the improvement, because I was afraid I would jinx myself. Now, however, it's been about 3-4 days of marginal improvement. I figured I'd attempt it and let you all know that there is SOME improvement. It's still not completely fixed--it still feels like I'm drudging through breaths at times--but I haven't had the fish-out-of-water sensation that I had been having for the past couple of months. Of course, now I have less excuse as to why our laundry isn't done. :-P

Ho-Hum.

So, the massive increase in steroids last week didn't do what we had hoped. It's still really difficult to breathe. So, Lister has kept me up on the steroids and added two new meds (one anti-bacterial, and one anti-fungal). I think the breathing thing seems to be two-fold--part Graft vs. Host (GvH) and part infection (the cough). Given that it's still SUCH an issue, everyone involved (myself, my husband, my doctor, my boss, and my disability insurance company) thinks it's better for me to go back onto disability full time until this stuff clears up. Lister seems to think that he can have it fixed in 3 weeks or at least "markedly improved." I'm skeptical, but happy to hear him be so optimistic.

I have to say that feels like a bit of a relief. I've been trying to work part-time since September 1st and it's been difficult. It's hard to focus on designing a page layout when just trying to breathe is an effort.

This breathing thing...

...is getting really annoying (and difficult). It's making it almost impossible for me to perform basic activities (emptying the dishwasher, walking down a long hallway, picking up a pen on the floor). The docs up'ed my steroids even more now to 100mg daily, hoping that will do the trick, and ordered me back to see them again on Monday. In the meantime, they have ordered some sort of scope to head down my lungs tomorrow morning to see what they can see in there.

On one hand, I'm glad that they are taking a closer concern about this--it's been pretty bad for me. On the other hand, it would just be nice to not have to worry about this at all. We'll see. I know, however, that I could be doing a lot worse. I'm thankful for at least doing as well as I am.

Here's the latest in the health series, dealing with my breathing issues: "Breathe"

Finally up!

So, I bought the domain name back in JUNE, and this weekend, I finally got around to putting together a website of my work: www.stacyraegross.com. It's a simple site, but it does the job—for now. I'll probably have to re-evaluate it in a few months as more of the health (cancer treatment/recovery) series is filled out. I'm not sure how that work fits in with the other pieces I currently have up there.

The health series is progressing into a two-part series: half, self portraits and half, abstracts of meditation sessions. Actually, if you are curious, I put 2 of the health series paintings in with the images on the website (Bathing I and Bathing II).

I will still be posting updates of paintings and sketches here on this blog, but the new site is one where I will be able to give more information about them and have all the painting images in one place for folks to browse.

Re-education.

So much of what I'm doing right now seems like a complete re-education. I'm learning how to live again--what I want my life to feel like and how I have to live. Most of the things that I have learned (or thought were true) growing up about how my body handles food, weather, sleep, etc, I've had to learn anew.

With all the healing that I'm doing, there is just no way to make it go faster. My breathing thing is still a major issue. It seems that I just have to wait. It takes time for things to heal up and get stronger. All my life, I have been more of a fast mover, fast talker, fast walker, etc. All those things, I now have to do a little bit slower. I think it's a good change, but it's a hard thing to learn--changing my life speed + style so completely and penetratingly.

And painting, too, has been a re-education. For the past six years, I have been a graphic designer by profession (and formal education) and the world of fine arts is quite different. Not just the medium and expression, but the professionalism of folks within the field is completely different. I'm still pretty new to the Pittsburgh arts scene, and I've already been quite surprised at the differences.

Breathing (or rather panting)

So, it's been a little over a week since the operation for the tear duct. It went pretty well--especially considering what they did! They had to break some bones in my nose area to get to the tear duct. [Yikes!] The anesthetist was concerned about giving me too much sleepy stuff, because my breathing is still an issue. So, they gave me a "minimal amount." That translates to "Stacy will wake up in the middle of the surgery." And I DID. For the last 20-30 minutes, I was awake and becoming more an more cognizant. The area of my face that they were working on was completely numb, so I didn't feel anything. However, I could hear the surgeons singing along to the music, the beeping of the oxygen machine, and the bone being broken as I tried to will myself back to sleep. I know that a few of folks that read this are probably getting queasy, so I'll stop with the details there and just say that it was definitely one of the MOST SURREAL experiences of the past four years of the medical world for me. The anticipation of the surgery was a lot worse than the actual thing itself. I also am happy to see that the doctor managed to leave minimal scarring. I think it will be hidden by my glasses.

Another recent happening, Ralph and I celebrated our 1-year wedding anniversary this weekend. We went to a French restaurant about an hour outside of Pittsburgh. It was pretty good, although I think I'll have to think twice about getting lobster outside of New England. Although, still very good, it's just not the same.

Introducing...

This month, I have finally gotten around to changing my name. I've been meaning to do this for the past year (since the wedding), but for one reason or another, it never seemed like a good time. I decided to do it now, because 1) I realized that it's never going to be extremely convenient to change a name, and 2) I have been scheduled for a gallery show in March 2007 using this new name! That's right, in March of 2007, I will be have gallery show with local painter, Joana Ricou. We are still settling the details of the exhibit, but the paintings will have to do with women. Women painting women. I have started producing some paintings for this...here is the first:

Brrrr!

Boy is it COLD! I think it's about 60 degrees outside today. That's too cold for the first week of September, I say!

Nothing too much has changed on my medical front. My breathing is still an issue, but the docs are addressing it. Hopefully all will be good in a week. Other than that, the blocked tear duct that I referred to a couple of posts ago seems like it needs to be fiddled with. And by fiddled with, I mean operated on. Apparently, they have to go into the tear duct to unblock it before it gets infected. When the doctor said this to me, I just started laughing. What else can I say to that? The big event will take place on Friday. ;-P

The Mayor didn't make it.

Last night, Pittsburgh Mayor Bob O'Connor, passed away. :-(

This week has been crazy!

Between the breathing issue (and test), the PET scan, and a visit with an eye doctor for a blocked tear duct, I have spent A LOT of time going to appointments this week. I hoping that all will be well soon, but it looks like there might be another rough patch ahead. In the meantime, here are some sketches from the various waiting rooms.

Medical update...

I had another appointment with Lister today. I finally got him to realize that this breathing thing is a real problem. (I'm still having a hard time breathing while performing simple daily activities). He has ordered a breathing test for me tomorrow morning. I think it's related to one of the meds that I'm on (CellCept). It sort of feels like the shortness of breathe that I was feeling back in late December/early November.

Since I've also had a bit of chest pain (in the traditional tumor area) he has also scheduled a PET scan for me this week. Unfortunately, though, I'm already scheduled to start working again (albeit part time, from home) this Friday, September 1st. So, if they find any cancer, I'm not sure what the plan would be to tell my boss. :-/

Instead of waiting a month to see me again, he said he wants to see me next week to see if the antibiotics he prescribed today help the lungs, and what the results of the two tests show. I'm pretty sure that the cancer isn't gone, but hopefully, I'm wrong.

Home again. (N.H.)

This time I actually have a good excuse why I haven't posted for a couple of weeks--I went home to New Hampshire. Ralph and I went up last week. We got to hang out with family and have a little retreat up at the camp. For those of you who don't know the "camp" story...back in the 1960s, my grandparents bought some land on a Welch Island in Lake Winnipesaukee, in New Hampshire. About 12 years ago, they sold it to a wonderful family with 6 kids. They have always been very communicative with my grandmother and always offered for us to come and visit. This summer, I finally took them up on their offer. So, last week for 4 days and 3 nights, Ralph and I had a little retreat. No computers, no phones, no tv, no radio--just water, reading books, resting on the hammock, and sipping tea on the dock. We had glorious weather, calming views, and some really great relaxing days. Here are some pics from our stay on the island:

Breathing

Hey everyone...sorry it's been a bit since I've posted. Nothing too drastic has changed--just some breathing issues. I seem to have some fluid in my right lung (don't ask me how it got there), and it makes me short of breathe often. It's mostly just really annoying rather than actually debilitating. It would be worse if I had to work or leave the house on a regular basis, but since I'm still home on disability, a lot of my time is sitting down and walking only the distance of my condo. The catch is that Lister wants me to go for long walks (minimum 30 minutes) at least every other day, if not daily. But when it's hard to breathe, it's hard to be motivated to get out in the 90 degree humid heat of Pittsburgh for a walk. I know, however, that the more I walk, the better my body will be, so I go. :-)

Other stuff that's happening: I'm still painting like a mad woman. I have actually finished three more paintings that I haven't put up here. They are part of a series that I am doing about the whole "cancer experience." I haven't posted them yet, because I wanted more of the series complete before I showed any one piece. Alone, they are still interesting, but I think they make more sense in the context of the series. Hopefully, I'll have enough of them to post them within a month.

I'm also trying to get enough paintings together to put them up on a website. It's a little tricky, because I'm not sure how I want to organize them--and if I have enough to separate them into categories. In any case, I'll keep you posted. (Get it?!) :-p

currently without title

In case you are curious...

I got another letter from my donor. I actually got it about a month ago, but I didn't think to post the info here until today. She wrote:

"May 13, 2006
Hello Donee,
I received an update today that said you were doing well--which is great news--that makes me happy! I love to hear updates + hope that some day I will get to meet you.

Thank you for the letter with some additional information. It was nice to get to "know" you a little better. It sounds like you are really creative. The most creative thing I can do is crochet + only basic thing like the scarf I made you--I would love to have more time to knit, crochet + sew--but life does not leave much idle time. I also had no idea who Friday Kahlo was--had to look her up on the internet. Very interesting person.

Here are a few details about myself that I think I can disclose: I am 32, almost 33 (yikes!) female. I have been married for almost 12 years--yes, married young to my college sweetheart. He's a great person + manages to keep me sane + have a gentle heart. I have one son who is 8. I adore him. He is a wonderful little boy who makes me proud every day. He keeps us very busy.

My profession is all in the accounting/finance world. I currently am an internal auditor for a large company. This job keeps me very busy + I travel about 50% of the time. This Sunday, I leave for the UK + Sweden--something you would probably enjoy. Most of my travel is domestic. While I enjoy the job, at times I miss home.

In my spare time, I enjoy running--mostly to chat with my large group of running friends, all women--biking, swimming, rock climbing, hiking, etc. I love the outdoors--although I'm am a fair weather camper! In my previous life/profession, I was in sports management, so I guess you could say that is my passion--not the finance world--but the finance world pays the mortage!

I hope this letter finds you well + I hope to hear from you.
I think of you often + pray for you.
Until next time--
Hugs, Yar Donor."

Sunnuva ------!

And now dooce!

Breathing with one hand to my mouth, in shock...

Part of the whole Pittsburgh All-Stars Project was a press conference/artist's reception with Pittsburgh Mayor Bob O'Connor, on Wednesday of last week. I attended it as there didn't seem there would be too many people there. However the next day, I thought I may have put myself in jeopardy, because Ralph told me that the mayor had checked himself into the hospital with flu-like symptoms. Of course, I had just shaken his hand the day before. Then there was word that he actually had an ulcer, was treated, and released. Today however, there was a different story.

And the sad thing is, I know his treating physician. He's a good and very intelligent doctor (if I couldn't see Dr. Lister, I would have been with him: Dr. Stanley Marks). I say it's a sad thing not because his doctor is Marks, but because I have such knowledge about the hematology oncologists in Pittsburgh.

I can't help but feel...I don't know. Sad? Angry? Scared? What is going on? What's with the lymphoma in Pennsylvania? Pennsylvania Senator, Arlen Spector was also hit (last year). Is it just a coincidence? I don't know, but I can't help feel like I have to get the hell out of here.