sasha

had a beautiful 24 hours with sasha.

so grateful that i have such a sensitive child in my life. getting to see the world through the eyes of a 16 year-old is rare and lovely.

suddenly, everything is pristine and sparkling as a fresh snow fall. things are faceted with possibilities.

sasha is not always easy, but she is kind, fragile and, as a teenager should, wears her emotions so close to the surface you can almost run your fingertips across them feel them trembling. sometimes, an immersion into her vulnerability leaves me so breathless and raw, i can barely speak.

at the moment, she is full of questions about her own strengths and talents, the painful process of learning to balance pleasure and self-discipline and of course, the anger an adolescent has towards her authority figures. (and there are lots of times when we deserve it.)

feeling so lucky i am able to listen to her, lucky that she is the person who ended up being my daughter.

so after 24 hours of being really stressed-out and worried about my kids, i convinced james to bring sasha home for a bit of a reconnection. she spent the night, went to see a friend, and then we hung out all afternoon until james came to pick her up for the evening.

now relieved and a bit sad because i miss her, too.

co-parenting in the time of cholera

trying to be consistent with another parent is hard enough when your life is normal and you're together, but when you're sick and immobile

and the other parent is an exhusband with a new partner and he privately thinks you are deranged and power-hungry,

it is almost impossible.

so while i'm in hospital getting chemo - dad "trusted" them when they texted to say that they were at friends' houses - and they, like any smart teenagers, stayed in our empty apartment and threw a party that got so out of control, the neighbors had to come downstairs and close it down.

i found because my neighbor kindly texted me in hospital to ask if it had been ok'ed.

dad was most angry - not because random drunk people were showing up at his unchaperoned teenaged daughters' door - but because they made him look stupid.

the following weekend, when i was back in chemo and they were grounded for their illicit party, there was a change in travel plans.

dad was stuck with the kids on saturday night when he had somewhere to go and so did his girlfriend.

so he decided, yet again, he "trusted" them and planned to leave them in HIS apartment alone, this time with the younger sister. fortunately, my brother went and picked them up and brought them home.

his response - he doesn't like "being a policeman."

thus homework is not often done, the girls wear inappropriate clothes and talk back (all like normal teenagers) - but there is no parent either physically able or willing to monitor them.

augh.

oh well

i had convinced myself that the cancer was absolutely gone and i didn't need any more chemo.

was suddenly imagining entire weeks where my energy levels just kept getting better. thinking i'd be swimming laps again.

i called the doctor's office this morning at 9 am and left a message with the secretary.

then again at 12:47. the secretary told me they weren't in yet.

so, like a stalker, i called again 2. the secretary told me they'd call as soon as they got the results.

so all day, i was cross and anxious and pacing the floor. i'd been arguing with my dad about why i didn't need a hysterectomy.

and i even broke down and put some parmesan on my gluten-free pasta with broccoli rabe (sweetly homemade by my worried friend zia). i ate a dark-chocolate-covered almond.

i was waiting to hear that my blood hormone levels, the ones that tell you how much cancer is left in my body would be zero. or at least around 5, which is normal.

just to give you idea, when i went into hospital on november 20, they were 189,000.

anyway, after my first round of chemo, they dropped to 48,620, on the next 12,573, then 2047.

so like 15 year-old girl waiting for a boy to call, i was irritable and in limbo.

i kept checking my cell phone, every five minutes, even took it into the bathroom when i was in the shower, so i could jump out and answer it, just in case.

though when she finally called back, i was on the phone with my mum telling her to stop being so negative because the cancer was almost gone and that i was no longer interested in discussing hysterectomies with her.

the phone message - delivered in an upbeat, irish voice - "your levels are going down very nicely! it's 137."

i should be overjoyed about that number, the doctors seems to feel it's miraculous. but i'm so sad. it's not over.

that means at the very least, two to four more weeks of chemo.

at my next doctor's appointment, i am going to see how i can bring this to an end sooner. not sure how many more toxic chemicals i can take...

the day after

one day after chemo, two days after christmas. i've decided that all this cancer-craziness will be over by the first of february. maybe even sooner if i can work it.

from my last set of blood tests, more than 3 weeks ago, there was barely any sign of the hormones this rare uterine cancer produces. in fact, the chemo nurse was so overexcited he came rushing into the hospital room to wake me up and tell me.

the worst thing that can happen during holidays is getting sick.

a last-minute strep throat and your only choice is four-hours under fluorescent lights surrounded by moaning injuries at the emergency room, or hope for the minute clinic at the CVS - if it's still open.

all the serious doctors leave town. as they should, it's a grueling job, they need a vacation. but that means there is lots of room for being ignored. for stuff happening on automatic pilot. for nurses saying, "i can't do anything until i talk to the doctor." to a doctor. to any doctor...

the nurses who are left shuffling around the hospital continue like automatrons, simply following the printed list of instructions.

in 1995, i had a baby (zarina) one desolate weekend when my ob-gyn was out sick, her replacement called in off the golf course and his hands were shaking through the process of sewing up my episotomy (a procedure no longer deemed necessary). i ended up fainting in a pool of blood as the nurse nervously tried to cover herself because of course everyone else had jumped ship by sunday.

anyway, yesterday, i asked the nurse about my chemo and she had no real answers, partly because she didn't even know who i was, she was just filling in.

i complained about my usual aches and pains and she gave me some blood tests and my potassium levels were elevated but she couldn't do anything about it because there were no doctors around.

i got no real answers about what they were doing and when it was going to end.

here's what my doctor wants to do: keep giving me chemo even after the cancer is gone.

here's what i've learned: the more chemo you get, the higher your chance of future cancers, tumors and secondary infections.

so tomorrow i will call the doctor's office and see if i can get control of this - and a real date for when this is all over.

job 2: keeping my parents calm through the process. it IS hard watching your child suffer and be unwell. but when you're the child, keeping your parents pacified and positive rather than gloomy and pointing out all the past mistakes that got you where you are is draining.

that said, i woke up this morning feeling really sorry for myself. 3 kids, no job, no hair, no love life (let alone a husband or a partner), cancer, nausea and on top of that a god-awful headcold.

and then i saw the copy of oprah on the back of the toilet - with the interview with elizabeth gilbert (eat, pray, love) and i thought about how much i disliked her. typical, over-indulged upper middleclass white woman syndrome. moaning about how she didn't really want to be married to her husband but she didn't know why, losing sleep not over how she was going to keep everyone fed and clothed and in school but why she didn't want to have children.

then (more offensively) she had to go to INDIA - my homeland - that produces instant epiphanies in the minds of self-absorbed americans and indonesia to actually realize that it was not all about her.

and after thinking about how whiny she was. it occurred to me that i was actually being really pathetic myself.

(there are brief flashes when i remember that when you take an immediate and vehement dislike to something it's probably something you dislike in yourself.)

so here's what i got for christmas:

3 loving, healthy (in body and often, in mind) and growing girls
1 apartment that i still own (not foreclosed on) in tribeca
2 very involved and still married parents
1 very supportive brother
1 very supportive sister-in-law
2 super-cute nephews
1 delicious niece
1 amicable divorce
1 occasionally helpful and supportive ex-husband

also,

a few really great friends
clean water rushing out of the tap, breathable air, electricity, cable tv (even if it's not working right now), internet
lots of nice clothes (even after selling a lot of them)
lots of organic food in the fridge
cheerful, not-broken furniture

1 cancer that is, apparently, highly curable

an easily-tickled sense of humor (as i say about myself, i suffer fools gladly. even romantically, it turns out... :)

a nice smile.

christmas: the battle between selfishness and generosity

christmas eve dinner and christmas itself - albeit gaudium interruptus - was glorious.

shockingly (because we've had less than pleasant past memories) EVERYONE, from the adults to the amazons to ashraf and soraya's munchkins, even the tiniest one who had a headcold, was beautifully behaved at the table

and thrilled with the gifts they received

and even more thrilled with the smiles on the faces of the gift-receivers.

it's so satisfying when you feel you've hit the sweet spot with a present - searched and discovered something the person REALLY (and possibly secretly) wanted.

in the battle of greed and generosity that is christmas, i believe generosity and kindness won out this year.

sasha took masses of pictures of the details, zarina danced around with the baby on her hip and was quite possibly the best member of mirad's audience when he did his annual magic show.

mirad's sense of himself (for years, the only boy and a smallish one at that) in the complex hierarchy of our extended family seems strengthened by these gatherings, where the girls love and fuss over him.

nathalia bounced around with the awkward, vulnerable love and clear-eyed honesty that only a 6 year-old can have.

rara was, as usual, a drop of honey for me, sweetening every moment with her instinctive warmth and compassion.

the hardest part was packing up the car and leaving while the after-christmas wind-down was just beginning...

the night before christmas, pt 2

girlworld: we're lounging around looking at everyone's shopping and discussing next week - the amazons go hang out with james and his girlfriend elizabeth.

and how the main course will be prepared.

by my mum, thank god.

poor little omi has a cold and is crying and whingeing nonstop. someone's got to bounce him on their arm all the time.

and if we could just get zarina to stop flipping the camera around - because that's only fun if you're shooting not if you're watching - you'd get a sense of our cozy bedroom with the space heater on full-blast.

the night before christmas

and everyone (except the coughing and sneezing children) is exhausted.

my brother and sister-in-law drove half the night to get here. they've both got nasty colds along with the baby.

my mum is cooking and cleaning and organizing like crazy - while at the same time, taking the kids sledding, ice-skating and making them three square meals a day. she and my dad were up til 1 am getting the house ready.

sasha was at a sleep-over so she didn't sleep much. zarina's a mass of adolescent hormones and growls. mirad and nathalia left home an hour after their bedtime, so they are weepy and tired, too.

at the moment, the tempers are about to start flaring so i've slipped out of the kitchen.

my mum's carefully-planned christmas dinner menu started with a standing rib roast. but then my sis-in-law said she preferred goose or duck (after the menu was decided) and the search began - albeit on the phone because my mum was in nyc looking after me.

after a series of discussions and phone calls with my dad in dc over the course of a week,

he bought a 6-pound boneless rib eye roast.

and there were no small goose or ducks to be found in the suburban dc area.

so this morning, whilst looking at the french chef cookbook to firm up her ratatouille recipe and chopping aubergine and courgettes, my mum turned forlornly to the boneless rib eye roast and said, "now i don't know what to do with it..."

she asked me to look up some recipes in the betty crocker cookbook while she finished making scrambled eggs for the kids and bouncing the teething, whining baby on her hip.

i looked up some recipes online and while she was taking the younger ones sledding, i thought i'd be useful by pre-marinating the meat in a bit of tamari, salt, pepper and garlic.

though, of course, this threw off my mum's plan which she had formulated whilst sledding, to grill the meat with only sel de grillon and nothing else.

so when she came home, she took one look at the 6-pound monstrosity and said, "you do it." i had a feeling i shouldn't have tried to help...

then she proceeded to make the rest of her menu in an irritated way and complain to my brother about things.

my brother's reaction to his terrible headcold was to take nyquil - which has made him all spacey and tired - so he is managing to float past it and not offering any advice.

the teenagers have gone with my sis-in-law to the mall which makes them pleasantly absent. though i am sure they will return soon and grouchy, just ready for everyone to have a big argument.

now i'm being summoned downstairs to try to save the beef - am nervous that there is so much riding on it. perhaps i better just cut it up into steaks.

four hours left til the big christmas eve dinner.