March 4, 2012 · 2:32 pm

Priceless

Yesterday, I had the privilege of hearing two priceless conversations. The first one went something like this:

Dylan: “Riley, what do you want to be when you grow up?”

Riley: “A firefighter!”

Dylan: “Riley, you don’t want to be a fire fighter.  If you’re a fire fighter, you have to go in fire, and if you go in fire you will get burned and you will get hurt.”

Riley: “Well…(long pause)…but…(long pause)…I’ll wear my seatbelt.”

That one happened in the car on the way to the mall.  I wrote it down immediately because I want to remember it forever.  I needed to return a belt at Macy’s and both boys insisted on coming with me.  This was not a mission on which I would typically encourage them to join me, but I was headed to the theater in the afternoon to see “Billy Elliot,” and I figured Mike would appreciate an hour to himself before I left him alone with the kids for the rest of the day.  Also, I knew the boys would love going up and down the “escavator” (escalator) at the mall.  (They did.)

The second conversation I heard was at the theater later that afternoon between Billy and the unnamed person interviewing him as part of his audition for the Royal Ballet School in London.  During the exchange onstage, Billy was asked, “What does it feel like when you’re dancing?”  His response was:

I can’t really explain it, I haven’t got the words

It’s a feeling that you can’t control

I suppose it’s like forgetting, losing who you are

And at the same time something makes you whole

As a (former) dancer, this response was perfection.  It described the indescribable sensation of dancing better than I’d ever heard before.  As I sat in the dark theater – nostalgic about my own experience as a dancer many years ago – it also occurred to me that it sounded a lot like what it feels like to be a mother.

That day had been a good great mommy day for me, and it wasn’t just because I spent the afternoon and early evening at the theater without my kids.  Even though the day started at 6:15 a.m. (thank you, Riley), there was no guilt, no yelling, no time-outs, no pee or poop accidents, no fights over food, and no desire to not come home from the theater (pardon the double negative). On the contrary, we survived – and enjoyed ourselves – at Costco, the mall and the “escavator” earlier in the day, and by the time the show was over and the post-theater drinks and dinner were consumed, I couldn’t wait to get home and quiz Dylan and Riley about every minute of their day that I missed.  I couldn’t wait to feel whole again.

I’m a Grateful Mama that I overheard my boys talk about their dreams as only three- and five-year-old brothers are capable of doing, that I had the chance to watch an inspirational story unfold about another little boy realizing his dream of being a dancer, and that I had the priceless opportunity to see how my own dreams, past (dance) and present (motherhood), made me feel the same – “…like forgetting, losing who you are, and at the same time something makes you whole.”

3 Comments

Filed under conversations to remember, dreams, Grateful Mama, motherhood, theater

March 2, 2012 · 5:42 pm

Feeling Blue

Did you know March is National Colorectal Cancer Awareness Month?  Did you also know that today, March 2,2012, is National Dress in Blue Day, a day to raise awareness about colon cancer, celebrate survivors, and help patients in need?

In honor of this important day and month, I though I’d tell you about my appointment with the gastroenterologist yesterday.  The first thing the doctor said when he walked in the examination room (after I waited an hour and a half for him to grace me with his presence) was, “I remember you.” 

I hadn’t seen him since my colonoscopy in August 2010, so I thought, How nice that he remembers me!  I must have made quite an impression.  Then he said, “I remember your polyp.  I couldn’t believe I found a polyp that big in such a young girl!” Just so you know, this is a lesson in what not to say to a Mama who fears cancer or deep vein thrombosis every time she has a headache or unexplained bruise.

Here’s how we settled on an August 2012 – yes, 2012 – colonoscopy:

Doc: Why are you here?

Me: My hematologist thinks five years is too long to wait for my next colonoscopy.  Both of my grandmothers had colon cancer, both of my parents have had polyps, and I had one  – a big one – at 34.  As you know, I’m a little (a lot!) worried about cancer.

Doc: Okay, let’s do a colonoscopy next August? 

Me: That’s three years.  Do you think three years is too long to wait?  Should I do one this year?    

Doc: Okay, let’s do one this August.

Me: Do you want to do the colonoscopy this year because you think I should have one or because you think I think I should have one?  (Yes, I really did say this.)

Doc (realizing my Crazy had emerged): I want to do it this August so you can be reassured.

Me (realizing my Crazy had emerged):  Okay.

I’m probably the only person on the planet paranoid enough to convince her doctor to do a colonoscopy a year sooner than he suggests.  In all seriousness, I have no doubt that my first colonoscopy saved my life.  If I had waited for my doctor to send me for a routine colonoscopy in my early forties, that big, memorable polyp hanging out in my colon at 34 would most likely have become cancer.  

I’m wearing blue today (denim counts, right?), and I’m feeling a little blue that 2012 is not only the Year of the Dragon but also the Year of my 2nd Colonoscopy, but I’d be feeling a lot bluer if it were on the calendar for next week.  At least I have a few months to stretch out my anxiety. 

If you think your colon should get checked, get off your butt (pun intended) and take care of yourself.  Happy Colorectal Cancer Awareness Month!

Leave a comment

Filed under colonoscopy, Crazy Mama