Sunday, December 17, 2017

So, here's what's happening in my life

I had surgery for an osseous hemangioma , on November 28th, 2017.   I woke up from surgery feeling so good.  The tumor was gone and so was the headache it was causing,  
This was taken right after my surgery.    











 Surgery was on a Tuesday and I went home on Friday.  I had mild headaches which got better and better.

On Tuesday , December 12th, two weeks after surgery, I went to Starbucks where I have held weekly "Breastfeeding Cafe's" for about 8 years.  When I got home I had a bit of  a headache.  I figured it was from wearing a hat for several hours when I was out.

Happy to be home from the hospital


Well that wasn't it.  I woke up at 2:00 am Wednesday morning with a fever and a terrible headache.  I thought for a few  minutes and decided to call the neurosurgery department of Johns Hopkins, where I had my surgery.  They told me to go see my family doctor as soon as the office opens.  I had just been there for a check up and all was fine.  I saw my doctor and this time he did blood work and sent me home.  Shortly after I got home my doctor called and told me to go right to the hospital because my white blood cell count was way too high.

A couple of hours of IV antibiotics, and blood work and I went home.

Thursday morning I woke up to go to the bathroom around 4 am and discovered that my left eye (surgery side) was swollen shut.  Off to the ER again.  Nick drove me.  I had texted my sister and she met us there.  The ER doctor spoke to one of the doctors who operated on me at Hopkins. The ER doctor wanted to send me by ambulance to Hopkins, but the Hopkins doctor said that since I had an appointment the next day I could come then


My swollen eye

Friday, we (Nick, my sister and I)  went to my appointment and I was admitted.  And here I am.  I am getting IV antibiotics, and all sorts of tests.  There was talk of the possibility of having another surgery.  The thought was that the implant in my skull might be infected.

Both of my arms are bruised up from all of the blood tests and the IVs.  My belly is bruised too.   I am getting shots of heparin in my belly to keep me from developing blood clots.

It is Sunday evening.  I am not sure when I am going home.  I might have a picc line put in so I can keep having IV antibiotics when I go home.

So, here we are.  Waiting, and doing whatever it takes to make sure I get well and stay well.

I am recovering!

Thursday, December 14, 2017

Pictures- not in sequence





December 14, 2017

November 29, 2017


I love blogging, but somehow I have not fugured out how to post pictures in sequence and capture the word tha go with the pictures.  Oh well, here's my last two week!




Saturday, December 2, 2017

Today's smile picture


Home and Healing


I got home from the hospital yesterday.  Feeling so much better, and freaking out at my lack of hair!   I have the occasional headache, which, when you see the pictures, you will understand.  But, my tumor pain is gone.

I have likened the tumor pain as being like the discomfort you feel when there's a pebble in your shoe.  Well, that pebble is gone now.

I am tired.  Staying in pajamas.  Spending too much time on the computer.   Feeling so relieved and surprised and amazed.   A week ago I was not sure I would be able to speak, walk, or even be alive.

And here I am!  Tada

Copied from my Caring Bridge page:   https://www.caringbridge.org/visit/nancysherwood2


This is the hat I knitted for myself before surgery so I could keep my head warm

.  I am so glad I did!
Well, they asked if I wanted to have my whole head shaved.  I said no.  So this is what I have- "bangs"


My head looks like a baseball.

Wednesday, November 22, 2017

Thanksgiving

This holiday rolls around every year and what we do and how we celebrate varies from year to you.

Last year we had a lot of family here.  We celebrated my mother in law's 99th birthday.  Today is what should have been her 100th birthday, but she died in May.  I know she would have loved to have made it to 100, but her body was ready for a well deserved rest.

There are so many things I could write about.  Pilgrims.  All of our memorable Thanksgivings overseas.  The year we had duck.  The year we had burritos.  And on and on.

But tomorrow we are going to spent Thanksgiving with family close by.  My nephew and his family.  My sister.  Others I am not sure about.

Four of my kids just got back from a week in Ecuador.   Quite an adventure.

All five kids are descendants of the Pilgrim, William Brewster, so Thanksgiving is their heritage.

I am having brain surgery in less than a week.  I keep telling myself I will be okay.  I suppose it's out of my hands and in the hands of my medical team.  So send good thoughts their way.

Thanksgiving with Grandma and Grandpa Sherwood- around 10 years ago

Friday, November 17, 2017

Quick Change

I'm not going to write a whole lot.  Just wanted to say that it's still me.  I changed the background of the blog because I was tired of the brownish color and wanted to try something new.

More later

Sunday, November 12, 2017

why, when, how

I started out, I imagine, like most kids, asking "why"?.   Growing intellectuals, starting around the age of three, ask why about everything.  So much that eventually their parents either start ignoring them, or saying "because I aid so".   That was my mom.  Because I said so.  I swore I would never say that to my children.   Oh, famous last words.

There is so much that we just know before we have children.  What we will say in answer to their questions.  We would never say no, never be impatient, never bribe or threaten.  And always have answers to "why".

Next comes "when" either as a question "when?" or a declaration "when I grow up".  We want to grow up.  We want to have power over our selves.  We want autonomy.   We want to be able and allowed to do what older kids and siblings do.  In my family, you had to be 14 to use my dad's slide projector.  I couldn't wait.  And, I thought, it wasn't fair.  It sucked being the youngest.

We were going to be eternally patient with our own, eventual, children.  We wouldn't restrict their creativity.  Then we had kids.  And we put safety locks on the cupboards and gates on the stairs.  And we protected and guarded  them from the frighteningly dangerous world around us/ them.  And the "when's" started again.  When will the baby start to sleep more hours.  When will we be done potty training and when can we stop washing diapers.  When will they start school.  When will they ever learn to pick up after themselves.

When do we start realizing that our parents are not everything, know nothing and are annoying.

And back to why.  Why is it that no matter how old you are or your parents are, when they die, you want them back more than you ever knew you would.

And how.  Showing your baby how to smile.  Play peekaboo and patty cake.  Crawling on the floor with your little one and graduating to writing their ABCs.

How and when did these people, who came from you and through you stop thinking that they need you.

And how did I, who used to be a little girl, a teen, a young woman and a wife and mother.  How did I become old enough that I am now called "young lady".

When, how and why did I learn to hold my feelings.  Sometimes I want to be like a toddler who has skinned her knee, and just cry, unembarrassed, and unashamed.