Fact #1. We want kids.
Fact #2. I'm a scaredy-cat.
Fact #3. I'm a control freak.
Which brings me to today's blog... we're no longer preventing pregnancy. We're not TRYING, (because there's apparently procedures, etc. for that) but we're not making effort to stop it anymore.
Isaac let me know several months ago, he would be thrilled if a little wiggle worm dropped out anytime now. I, on the other hand, have been much more hesitant. For several reasons--some of them legitimate, others not so much.
What if I'm a horrible mother? What if Isaac's residency ends up being in Michigan and I go through a severe round of depression again? What if I end up feeling alone because he's gone at the hospital all the time? What if I become suicidal? What if I don't love them good enough? What if the chemo did something crazy to my body and I have mentally challenged kids? Will I have enough patience for that? Will I even have enough patience for a normal child? What if my cancer comes back while I'm pregnant? What if I get really huge--like, monstrously huge? What if my acne acts up while I'm pregnant and I get pizza face again?
Ugh.
Obviously, some of these aren't as important as others. Isaac says my mom genes will kick in and it will all be okay, regardless of the circumstances. And he's probably right.
Through my cancer experience I learned I better handle things when I don't know what to expect. Whoever first said that ignorance is bliss was my dispositional twin; I can roll with the punches as long as I can't tell where I'll get hit next.
So I'm lowering my guard and leave myself open for a beating that will probably rip me apart physically and exhaust me mentally.
I heard the payoff is definitely worth it.
Showing posts with label priorities. Show all posts
Showing posts with label priorities. Show all posts
Apr 11, 2013
Sep 13, 2012
Anna
This past weekend I was working at Nordstrom, like usual. I had made a bunch of really cute foundation samples and was handing them out in the aisles when my manager pulled me to the floor and asked me to help a customer who was searching for a good foundation.
Of course, I happily took on the task, since matching people in foundations is one of my favorite things to do--right up there beside giving people complete makeovers. There is an artistic aspect to doing this that requires a keen eye for color, and my eye seems to have developed quite well in that area.
My customer's name was Anna. I've helped her find a mascara before, but hadn't ever had a chance to sit down and talk with her for more than a couple of minutes.
Anna is a beautiful Philippino woman. Her natural hair color is a soft charcoal that fades in the popular ombre style toward a mid-level caramel brown on the ends. It lands a little past her shoulders and I've noticed she likes to wear it curled in a wave. Her eyes are a deep brown that glint gold when the light hits them, and you can tell by their shape that she smiles quite a bit. Her skin has a strong gold tone with very few imperfections, which I found amazing once I learned about the last few years of her life. Most people wear their stress on their face.
Before you start thinking I'm a creeper, know that these are the things I pay attention to when I'm searching for what color to use on people. I can tell you these details about almost any person that I've put foundation on. I'd probably also be able to recall the depth of color and thickness of their brows, if they had any distinguishing marks on their face, and if they had strong cheekbones or not.
Somehow we got on the topic of cancer. I think she thought I'd noticed her scar on her neck. Being someone who has a scar from cancer, I can tell you that sometimes I'm self-conscious of it and sometimes I think people notice it. Oddly enough, though, I don't usually recognize them on others. I mean, I'll notice them, but my mind doesn't stop and think, "This person has a scar. I wonder what it's from?" I guess I my assumption is that everyone is scarred, but only some of us have them on the outside whereas others carry them only on the inside.
Turns out she's had thyroid cancer. She was diagnosed a few years ago and has been through several surgeries and multiple rounds of radiation. Her journey has been long and difficult. During one of her surgeries, one of her laryngeal nerves was clipped, and consequently, her right vocal cord is now permanently paralyzed. Did I mention she's a professional singer?
At one point, she was completely unable to speak, or even whisper. In her book, My Lipstick Journey Through Cancer, she talks about how she had to grieve the possibility of not being able to sing again. Possibly ever. However, she's been in therapy for quite some time now, working on restoring strength to her working vocal cord so she can continue singing.
Every time she's visited the cosmetic counters at Nordstrom, Anna is always smiling. Always. I was thinking about it while reading her book, and I hope that I have a positive effect on people like she does. I hope that I am a little ray of sunshine for people who meet me on a daily basis, that I smile, and that people feel a little more cared for and respected because they met me.
***Update, 3/16/13: Anna isn't doing so well now. It is believed that the cancer is coming back and has spread to different areas, but she has no insurance to pay for a PET scan that would reveal more.***
Of course, I happily took on the task, since matching people in foundations is one of my favorite things to do--right up there beside giving people complete makeovers. There is an artistic aspect to doing this that requires a keen eye for color, and my eye seems to have developed quite well in that area.
My customer's name was Anna. I've helped her find a mascara before, but hadn't ever had a chance to sit down and talk with her for more than a couple of minutes.
Anna is a beautiful Philippino woman. Her natural hair color is a soft charcoal that fades in the popular ombre style toward a mid-level caramel brown on the ends. It lands a little past her shoulders and I've noticed she likes to wear it curled in a wave. Her eyes are a deep brown that glint gold when the light hits them, and you can tell by their shape that she smiles quite a bit. Her skin has a strong gold tone with very few imperfections, which I found amazing once I learned about the last few years of her life. Most people wear their stress on their face.
Before you start thinking I'm a creeper, know that these are the things I pay attention to when I'm searching for what color to use on people. I can tell you these details about almost any person that I've put foundation on. I'd probably also be able to recall the depth of color and thickness of their brows, if they had any distinguishing marks on their face, and if they had strong cheekbones or not.
Somehow we got on the topic of cancer. I think she thought I'd noticed her scar on her neck. Being someone who has a scar from cancer, I can tell you that sometimes I'm self-conscious of it and sometimes I think people notice it. Oddly enough, though, I don't usually recognize them on others. I mean, I'll notice them, but my mind doesn't stop and think, "This person has a scar. I wonder what it's from?" I guess I my assumption is that everyone is scarred, but only some of us have them on the outside whereas others carry them only on the inside.
Turns out she's had thyroid cancer. She was diagnosed a few years ago and has been through several surgeries and multiple rounds of radiation. Her journey has been long and difficult. During one of her surgeries, one of her laryngeal nerves was clipped, and consequently, her right vocal cord is now permanently paralyzed. Did I mention she's a professional singer?
At one point, she was completely unable to speak, or even whisper. In her book, My Lipstick Journey Through Cancer, she talks about how she had to grieve the possibility of not being able to sing again. Possibly ever. However, she's been in therapy for quite some time now, working on restoring strength to her working vocal cord so she can continue singing.
Every time she's visited the cosmetic counters at Nordstrom, Anna is always smiling. Always. I was thinking about it while reading her book, and I hope that I have a positive effect on people like she does. I hope that I am a little ray of sunshine for people who meet me on a daily basis, that I smile, and that people feel a little more cared for and respected because they met me.
***Update, 3/16/13: Anna isn't doing so well now. It is believed that the cancer is coming back and has spread to different areas, but she has no insurance to pay for a PET scan that would reveal more.***
Jul 16, 2012
A Collection of Thoughts
Not a whole lot has been happening with us. Isaac started his rotations in-hospital about two weeks ago and it's been fun to see him finally have the chance to show what he's been learning for the last two years! I noticed on Facebook tonight that quite a few of his classmates have posted that they passed their boards, so I'm dying to know if he's gotten any word on his score yet. Tonight is his first "day" of night rotations; these will last all week long.
As much as I hate to share the bed, because I'm squished between him and the wall, I hate his absence even more.
I finished reading the Hunger Games series today. That deserves an entire blog of its own.
I will say this: while reading, it was extremely hard to ignore the blaring parallels between the "games" that the Capitol put on and our modern-day entertainment. Except we don't physically kill children. We psychologically abuse people. Pit them against each other to see who will come out as "winner." Set them up for public embarrassment, chop and edit their own words and actions, broadcasting the polished, tainted version on our screens until lies become so intertwined with truth that even those who were present in the moment cannot distinguish what is real and what is not.
And then there's our obnoxious amounts of excess and our concern over trivial things, like Capitol residents. Panem et circenses.
The understanding has always been there, but I feel I see it clearer now, working in a high-end department store. Today I "helped" a client who came in and spent over $1500 (yes, one THOUSAND, FIVE HUNDRED). And she plans to come back later in the week to shop for more, because the money spent today was focused between her three children. Later on, we'll outfit her and her husband's closet. If the figures are relational at all, the family will drop at least another $1000.
She had to figure out how she was going to finagle her finances to make it work. Because really, these are such "great deals."
Her children showed such disdain for the process, although I'm unsure why. Maybe they saw what I saw. Maybe this is a dull, boring routine for them. Or maybe they're just teenagers who lack appreciation for much. The oldest daughter had to keep reminding the mother she already had something similar to what was picked out. Mom just "had a hard time remembering what they already had."
I was having a hard time ignoring the many other ways the money could have been put to better use. Bodies rot in the grass, dead from lack of food every day.
And yet this is my job. Funny thing is, I chose it and on days, I like it. But I also hate it. There is always a piece of me that whispers, "...but you know they don't really NEED it. It's not necessary. It won't matter in the end."
What to do about it?
As much as I hate to share the bed, because I'm squished between him and the wall, I hate his absence even more.
I finished reading the Hunger Games series today. That deserves an entire blog of its own.
I will say this: while reading, it was extremely hard to ignore the blaring parallels between the "games" that the Capitol put on and our modern-day entertainment. Except we don't physically kill children. We psychologically abuse people. Pit them against each other to see who will come out as "winner." Set them up for public embarrassment, chop and edit their own words and actions, broadcasting the polished, tainted version on our screens until lies become so intertwined with truth that even those who were present in the moment cannot distinguish what is real and what is not.
And then there's our obnoxious amounts of excess and our concern over trivial things, like Capitol residents. Panem et circenses.
The understanding has always been there, but I feel I see it clearer now, working in a high-end department store. Today I "helped" a client who came in and spent over $1500 (yes, one THOUSAND, FIVE HUNDRED). And she plans to come back later in the week to shop for more, because the money spent today was focused between her three children. Later on, we'll outfit her and her husband's closet. If the figures are relational at all, the family will drop at least another $1000.
She had to figure out how she was going to finagle her finances to make it work. Because really, these are such "great deals."
Her children showed such disdain for the process, although I'm unsure why. Maybe they saw what I saw. Maybe this is a dull, boring routine for them. Or maybe they're just teenagers who lack appreciation for much. The oldest daughter had to keep reminding the mother she already had something similar to what was picked out. Mom just "had a hard time remembering what they already had."
I was having a hard time ignoring the many other ways the money could have been put to better use. Bodies rot in the grass, dead from lack of food every day.
And yet this is my job. Funny thing is, I chose it and on days, I like it. But I also hate it. There is always a piece of me that whispers, "...but you know they don't really NEED it. It's not necessary. It won't matter in the end."
What to do about it?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)