Positively Phoebe

I spent last Thanksgiving trying not to puke my chemotherapied guts out down at Ryan's family's house in Mansfield.  I took my very first anti-nausea pill and my very first anxiety pill.  I nibbled crackers and drank ginger ale or sprite or something and hoped I wasn't ruining anyone's holiday.  I worried about how bad Ryan felt that he had decided to drive us down there in his '71 Challenger - not the smoothest, cleanest smelling ride on the planet - and that I had ended up getting sick because of it. And I had cancer. This Thanksgiving I am at home.  I am in remission.  I feel healthier and happier than I can ever remember being.  I am closer to my husband, my family and my friends.  I am filled with wonder and gratitude every single day of my life, now. This Thanksgiving, I am grateful for cancer.  I hate it, but I am thankful for all of the things it brought me.  All of the positive things it gave me.  All of the important lessons it taught me. This Than

We spread the message literally from Ohio to Japan and back.  The requests for prayers, positive thoughts, PMA, healing vibes, good juju... all of it.  All for little Spencer. And today, as I stood in Target and heard Lacey's text noise... my heart was in my friggin throat as I pulled my phone out of my pocket and looked to see the words: "NO LEUKEMIA!!!" And then I bawled.  And then I called my mum and told her.  And then I sat in traffic for an hour trying to get to Spencer's baby brother, Sullivan's, baptism.  I have never been so happy to hug my "wife" Lacey or her hubby, Todd. It was a wonderful day and I have no doubt in my mind that everyone's positive thoughts and prayers helped. Thank you.  Thank you all.  And if you want to follow Lacey, Spencer, Sullivan and Todd's adventures, too, you can find them here: http://frombettietobetty.blogspot.com/ I am so happy.  I spent a good 10 minutes snuggling with my dude, Spencer, b

I have this friend.  He might be the cutest guy I have ever seen (no offense to my beautiful husband...)  He's got big, sparkling blue-gray eyes and wears those glasses with the black plastic frames that all the cute boys wear.  He's got naturally gingery auburn hair that every other woman I know has attempted (and failed) to achieve with overpriced salon visits at least once in her life.  His smile could make the coldest, most hateful heart melt.  He's got a great wardrobe - always looks well put together.  He's got a penchant for stripes, plaid, skulls and robots and he looks great in a hat.  His hugs are the kind of hugs you wish all guys would give - genuine, full of love, and just a little bit needy.  And he has the kind of family every girl wishes could be HER family, too. I could go on and on about this guy.  About what a gem he is.  About how he won me over the moment I met him.  About what a lover and a goof and a party animal and an awesome dancer he is. B

I can't remember if I mentioned before about how I got asked to model in a benefit for The Gathering Place over at the hoity-toity mall on the east side...  Well, that happened, and I agreed for some reason.  And today, I drove over to Beachwood Place to have my fitting. I was told to go to a particular designer section at Dillard's Department Store. As I walked up, I was just horrified. To say the style of these clothes was "not me" was the understatement of the century. Don't believe me? Google "Peter Nygard for Dillard's" and have yourself a nice little chuckle.  This is what the girl wanted to put me in: First of all... perhaps no one ever explained to this girl the fact (and my personal philosophy) that: a) tights are not leggings and/or b) LEGGINGS ARE NOT PANTS! So I immediately vetoed her request to put me in a pair of leggings.  As pants.  And then she told me she just loved that jacket.  I wrinkled my nose at her.

The party. The somewhat dreaded Cancerversary Party. After all my worrying, stressing and Misery Guts nonsense - it turned out better than I could have possibly have hoped. When I arrived home, Ryan explained to me that he had threatened the janky old generator with a very large hammer. With a tremendous amount of hope that the horrible thing took his threats seriously, I arranged a huge spread of healthy treats on our giant Viking dining room table and waited to see who'd show up. A completely random cross section of our friends ended up attending. New friends. Old friends. Friends who didn't know each other at all. Friends who knew one another better than they knew Ryan or me. Friends, overall, who were happy to be able to share in my bizarre celebration. (And friends who brought enough whiskey, wine and beer to keep us drunk for weeks!) I'd be full of crap if I didn't say that I ended up pretty loaded myself last night. But it was fun and after the week, let alon

Well here we are.  November 2nd.  One year ago today, right about NOW, actually, Nurse Erin came into my room at Fairview Hospital and told me I had cancer. I cannot believe all that has happened in those 365 days.  How much I have changed.  How much I have grown. I am still furious at the universe for fucking up this weekend of revelry for me and I am seriously struggling to try to remain positive in light of all that is going on.  My emotions have been swinging wildly the past couple days, nevermind the last few HOURS.  I am furious at the power company for choosing streetlights over homes as they work ever so slowly to restore power in our poor city.  And I do mean out POOR city... as it appears that all of the wealthier suburbs were reconnected to the grid first - but the poor little ghetto of Cleveland has been left on the back burner.  Looking at the First Energy website, it appears that they have Cleveland slated to be back on SUNDAY.  Neat.  So much for a stress-free weeken

I had desperately hoped that this anniversary... this CANCERVERSARY... would be an awesome time of gratitude and reflection and celebration. Starting with today, the anniversary of my biopsy, my MRI and CAT Scan and my night at Fairview Hospital with my husband and father. Instead, it has turned into a horrible time of stress and sadness. Of panic and upset and anger. We still have no power. The stupid motherfucking piece of shit generator that Ryan has been miserably fixing, refixing, being kept awake night after night to fix, refix, and pour gas (read: money) into has turned into the worst possible thing that could have happened to us through this storm. It's brought more anger and stress than the comfort it may have otherwise given in the form of heat and unspoiled food. And it's basically because I cannot deal with having to watch Ryan be stressed out. And ever since last Friday, when we had a non-hurricane-related flood which destroyed the majority of Ryan's recordin

A year ago, well, right around now - I was sitting in the waiting room at the gynecologist's office, waiting to get squeezed in for my yearly exam (squeezed in, because the girl on the phone who made my appointment said "The First" rather than "The First TUESDAY" - which was actually the second, and when my appointment was supposed to be.  All of this I am certain, now, was meant to be.  This simple mistake brought me to Dr. Kebria and Nurses Erin and Alex.  If I had showed up for my exam on the 2nd - I would have seen a different oncologist for my initial biopsy.  It was truly all meant to be. As I walked out of work a year ago today, one of my coworkers asked where I was going and I specifically remember replying, "To another doctor who is going to tell me they don't know what's wrong with me."  Oh, how wrong I was.  And how grateful I am to Dr. Gitiforooz for telling me something was VERY wrong with me. A year ago today. That's whe