Being Chemically Dependent.

Two years ago, my world fell apart.  Against all 'precautions', against all 'positive steps', I was diagnosed with early breast cancer.  I simply could not deal with it...even though my case was 'mild' and diagnosed early, the centre could not hold. 

A sensible doctor strongly suggested citalopram, a serotonin-re-uptake inhibitor.  It keeps your body (which makes serotonin in various locations, mostly the gut) from 'dumping' it, and it lets your body store the stuff in your brain. . . at least that's how I understand it.  Serotonin makes you feel 'better', it gives you a feeling of well-being.  

Although a chilling thought, it works. Much like the Letrozole works for suppressing the estrogen that supposedly makes the cancer grow (and which i take with religious regularity daily--and will for another three years) the Citalopram fixes the malfunction in my body that makes me not have the level of seratonin that i must need.  My body responds in what i guess is a 'normal' manner: it rebels.  In my case that means feelings of depression and worthlessness and pointlessness are magnified, like bugs through the glass of a telephoto lens. 

 I have no control over this.  In fact, until i felt better ON the meds, i would have said there was nothing 'wrong' with me, that i was just feeling depressed. Who Knew it was chemical--I certainly couldn't tell;  people around me could tell I was morose or down, but the lack of certain chemicals doesn't give you a tell-tale glow, or symptoms that shout "This woman needs chemical intervention!" 
I've always thought you controlled yourself. You work at feeling better, etc.  This doesn't work like that--telling yourself to 'cheer up', to 'be positive' to 'be brave' to 'fight' have about as much use and result as telling someone to 'jump up and touch the moon' or similar.

A scary thought.  everything you thought was Certain, is most definitely not.  Everything you thought you could count on (your mind, for one) is capriciously dependent on some unknown, untasted, unseen chemical that most people have in plenty and that I--unbeknownst to me--was lacking. 

It changes the way you see yourself in the mirror; changes the way you look at others; (thankfully) changes the way you respond to stress and 'disaster', or anger, or depression...I don't feel as though I'm being drugged or changed, but I CAN tell I am being calmer about things that used to send me raging.  No more smashing things, breaking things just to keep from exploding.  it seems to make me more... reasonable. 

Just as the letrozole quietly goes about stopping my body from making a chemical that feeds the cancer I had, the citalopram quietly lets me marshal the resources for even-keeled life-sailing.  I don't understand either one;  I have many side effects from both that I wish I didn't have to experience, but they are making my life more livable, both physically & emotionally. 

I don't ask questions any more.  I'm just fervently glad they exist and that I can take them and have some semblance of control back in my life.

where did the time go? and where has my MEMORY gone??!!

quiet Friday morning.  I'm up, on account of the fact that I did not have Night Shift.  I've had adequate time here with John, Anne, and the baby to reflect on my own First Weeks of mothering.  I did have four children.  I know I recorded their every burp and smile and milestone (four kids: four filled-to-bursting baby books... 'I was Scrapbook when Scrapbook wasn't cool'. :-D)

Why can I not remember those precious weeks and days? Total absorption in the jerky flailing of tiny limbs which have not quite figured out the brain-muscle connect? Joy in the intent gaze she gives both her mother and father while feeding?  The unbelievable comfort of a fed and freshly diapered baby in complete contentment and abandon, heavily asleep on my chest?  I am reliving moments I (obviously) must have experienced many times, as though it were the first time.  What a dismaying and sobering thought! 

So, motherhood was my life. That was What I Did.  You would think i would have more memories of the small and amazing miracle moments. . . but I don't.  Thank God for pictures, for letters, for other people who will say "remember when...?"  I'm going to go home, pick up the photo albums, and look at them--really look--and try and recall the tiny, fleeting, precious moments of the four new lives we gave the world.

And I will thank God also for the two very competent, easy-minded, brand-new parents in Minnesota, giving my granddaughter a marvelous start on her life!  They are taking the sleep-deprived-stupidity and bleary it's-afternoon-already? moments in stride, are figuring out the lovely dance of handing off baby duty, and allowing me moments that I WILL remember. Because i am writing them down, living them, and participating with the full knowledge that time is soaring, with exhilarating swiftness, away.

Will Someone PLEASE let me sit down for a moment??!!

      If I could pack any more stuff into three months of time, I don't know how I'd have done it any better than these last three months.  Besides a wonderful trip with MTI (Robert's professional organization) to Nashville, and getting some great face-time in with DiL2 (Lindsay, our "Little Chief") and DS2 ("Number Two", Matthew), SisterDear (Jane) came in from TimorLeste, & we got news that DD1 ("CelloGirl"Georgia) was expecting, and that she and Charles Cox would be getting married in the early part of  2012.   We already knew DiL1 ("Professor Anne") and DS1 ("KingofChaos" John) were coming in for Xmas and that we were having a Surprise Shower for the Spawn (baby Lily) and that DD2 ("NavyGirl") would be shipping out in early January. 
     Did I need a Lie-Down?  Why, yes, thank you, I did.  Did I get one?  Not Hardly. 

   
  Xmas went off without a hitch, but, sadly, without our Usual Soup/Cookie Day celebration (sort of a Sinko tradition: an open house of open proportions, with food, drink, cookie decorating, much music, etc.)  The Shower, a stupendous success, went off practically hitch-less, and both Xmas and Shower photos  may be viewed on Facebook.
      Lydia leaving was exciting and sad and bittersweet--we've been empty nesters ever since she left for college; though she  came home often, she didn't often stay here, so Lyd Sightings were numerous, but not lengthy.  Here we were (are) looking at her taking flight for her Own Life. For Real. Six years of obligation, and her being a continent away.  Sobering.  I picked back up on letter writing, since she couldn't have technology at hand, and only got a few phone calls the entire 2 months.

      Georgia & Charles' wedding.  Let me say right up front that I hate surprises.  Once i got over this one, (with a little help from Artificial Calmness: citalopram, which i take w/ religious regularity) Sister Dear bustled right in and we started to plan.  A Dress, A Party, Flowers, Announcements, Cake, etc...all became a reality in less that three weeks.  This is not recommended if you are Doing It Up Big, but both Charles and Ga were intent on small and simple.  Again, Photos are available on Facebook. 
       In February I had a clear mammogram and a all-clear check-up for my 2nd anniversary as a cancer survivor.  Again, another entry later.
      Early in March, we traveled to Great Lakes Ill to see Lydia become Seaman Sinko.  We were impressed, proud, excited, moved.  She is off to Monterey California and has hit the ground running with the exuberance which has marked her whole life! 

      John and Anne's little daughter Lily was born 7 March. 

      There.  a catch-up blog entry.       

A New Role

Lily Rhys Sinko made her appearance on 7 March 2012, and warp-factored me into a new dimension of life:  I am now a Grandmother.  I don't FEEL like a grandmother, and my gentle readers will refrain (of course) from commenting on how I look like a grandmother...thank you.  But this granny-hood seems to grow on one.  I feel about like i did with John's birth: amazed, awed, but not wildly in love. Yet.  (I expect that will come, along with time, as it did with my complete adoration for my eldest!)

She is delicate, she is pretty (I know, I know: all babies look like Winston Churchill, BUT...) she is amazing. Just the fact that she did not exist and now she does overwhelms me.  Lily's  a classically Good Baby.  Her innards are working just fine, so crying is limited to Where's My Blasted Bottle?! and My Diaper Regions Are Icky! and There Are Odd Gas Pains! and I Want To Be Held.  She quiets almost immediately, is responsive to touch and voice and such, and is very satisfactory to hold and cuddle.   I've done Night Shift for two nights, giving her parents a chance to sleep and not just doze. 

I haven't a clue what she should call me.  I draw the line at drivelly nick-names; they are not me. (Mee-maw? puleeze. Nana? sounds like a dog.  M On the other hand "Grandmother" is tried and true.  "Granny-Lin" which I've used to refer to myself in a half-mocking manner actually has some appeal. "Ma Sinko" has historical significance, and would do. But NO one I know goes by 'granny', and Irene Ryan's character was always a favorite...we'll see.   God knows I'd love to be a "Grand Mere, or Grand maMA, orsimilar elegant character in this child's life, but I think I'll probably fall somewhere between Granny Weatherwax and Nanny Ogg (two characters in the discworld novels).  I'm working on cleaning up my language.  Surely that's enough for now. I'm delighted and proud and going to have to learn this grannying business like i did the parenting...hopefully, I'll be a quicker study this time around!

:-)