Author: Beth Caldwell

Beth’s Classic Film Club: It Happened One Night

Posted on by Beth Caldwell

Get your popcorn and your box wine, it’s time for a classic film! And it’s a funny one, too, because don’t you need a laugh? I sure do!

It Happened One Night has two of my favorite actors, Clark Gable, who’s sexy as fuck, and Claudette Colbert, who’s gorgeous AND funny. Colbert’s a debutante whose dad doesn’t want her to marry a rich guy named King (no really, that’s his first name), so she runs away. Gable’s a reporter who recognizes her and decides to help her along so he can write a story on her. Hilarity ensues.

In one scene, Gable undresses and it is revealed he isn’t wearing an undershirt. Supposedly, undershirt sales in America immediately plummeted. Literally, Gable was that hot.

Part of what I love about this movie, and a lot of movies from the 30’s, is that its theme of poverty contrasted with wealth rings so true today. And the movie isn’t strident about it, it’s clearly a comedy, and nobody triumphs over their poverty like you usually see in movies today. Poverty just is, and wealth just is, and everyone knows it’s unfair, and nobody knows how to fix it. They just know how to survive. I really feel like a lot of the movies of the 30’s, and especially this one, are ripe for a remake during the Great Recession.

I could also give some background on the studio system, and how these two stars wound up in this film, and how nobody thought it would be a hit, but it was, because it’s amazing. But whatever, you can look it up on Wikipedia and that backstory isn’t really important. What’s important is how great Gable and Colbert are in this film. It’s funny and poignant and fantastic. Just, go watch it, would you? And tell me what you think in the comments!

What’s Treatment Like: Radiation

Posted on by Beth Caldwell

Dude, radiation oncology has got to be the weirdest experience of my life. And that includes any crazy shit I did in college. Now, again with stage IV, radiation isn’t always part of your treatment plan, because when you’re stage IV, that means cancer cells are floating around your body and latching onto other body parts than where they started, and making tumors all sorts of random places. Like, mine wound up on my sternum and the top of my femur, by my hip, so, really far from my breast. So, typically, you use chemo to treat stage IV because it’s a systemic disease and you need systemic solutions.

That said, if your tumors are causing you pain, or are likely to weaken a weight-bearing bone, then yeah, they’ll do radiation on there for you. But only as pain management, not as as part of a systemic treatment of your cancer, because radiation only zaps the spot where the tumor is, not your whole body. In my case, my femur is a weight bearing bone, and both it and my sternum hurt, so, zap zap!

Now, the first step in preparing for radiation is what the nice radiation techs called the Arts and Crafts portion of my care. First, I put on a gown and lay on the table of a CT machine, and they exposed the areas to be zapped, in my case, my sternum and my hip. The two techs stood there and stared at me thoughtfully, then they made little marks on me with sharpies. Then they thought and stared some more, and then more sharpie. Then they ran me in and out if the CT machine a few times, and then, more staring and more sharpie. Eventually when they had figured out exactly where they wanted to line up the radiation fields, they gave me the saddest tattoos ever. Just a blue dot. I have like 8 or 10 of them. The good news is, they didn’t really hurt much. I’ve had IV’s worse.

Oh, I almost forgot: at the start of arts and crafts time, they stuck a blue plastic bag under my legs, and they filled it with this weird warm goo, which rose up around my legs and then hardened to form a mold. They used that mold to hold me still for the zapping, so my legs and hips were all aligned just right. Precision is definitely the key here–you want to zap the tumor, not, say, your large intestine.

After all that, I came back the next day to start the treatments. And I shit you not, when I walked into the radiation room, the Bee Gees were playing on their CD player. Apparently when they built the room, they didn’t pipe in any kind of pandora or anything, so all they have is a CD player, and I happened to be there on a day that the 70’s CD was playing. Like the whole experience with the sharpies and the tattoos and the blue bag of goo wasn’t surreal enough, let’s add How Deep Is Your Love, shall we? It was all I could do not to giggle through the whole thing.

Oh, and if I felt like I hadn’t had enough sharpie during Arts and Crafts time, no worries, there was plenty more sharpie during the actual treatment days. The techs and I had nice chats about our plans for the weekend while they drew all over me. Once they had me marked up and lined up and shifted 7 millimeters this way or that, then everyone left the room and I listened as Earth Wind and Fire came on the CD player and the machine did its thing.

So, I had 10 zaps each on my sternum and my hip, for a total of 10 days of treatment, and I’ll be darned if the pain didn’t go away! Those weirdos in radiation oncology sure know what they’re doing. My hip is still a little sore, but more like when you need to stretch, not when I walk and put pressure on it like it did before. And the sternum doesn’t hurt at all.

And, they sure are nice, because at the end of my treatments, they gave me a very nice radiation graduation certificate that they all signed.

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See? Weird, but nice.

Grown Up Movies for Kids: Strictly Ballroom

Posted on by Beth Caldwell

Baz Luhrman is a genius. A post-modernist genius. I like post-modernism. Don’t know what that is? Moe Szyslak calls it “Weird for the sake of weird.” But I’d call it material that references earlier art, but creates its own meaning out of it. What I like about Baz Luhrman’s post-modernism is that it’s not just weird for the sake of weird. It IS weird, but it’s also got a purpose. What does all this have to do with a grown-up movie for kids? Well, today’s movie is Strictly Ballroom, a very strange film indeed, but one that is surprisingly kid-friendly

Let’s go over the things that scare people off of showing their kids a grown-up movie: sex, swearing, and violence. None, almost none, and none. And, let’s go over things that we’ve established that The Boy likes: sports movies where you root for an underdog and there’s a big victory scene at the end. Sure, it’s ballroom dancing, or “dance sport” as it’s called in the movie, and not a traditional sport, but hey, it’s the same themes, right? Here you have a guy who wants to win, but do it his own way. He has integrity and he has mad dancing skills.

The Girl actually liked this movie too, I think because it’s so visually stimulating. I mean, there’s people in really brightly colored clothing moving around a lot in practically every scene. And the female lead in this movie is no push over either. She’s not fearless, but she is brave, and she goes after what she wants, and gets it in the end.

I also love that this movie, like Secretariat and Rudy, is to some extent about the underdog, the outcast, the geeky/housewife/little guy/outsider, sticking it to the asshole jocks/popular kids/meanies. Kids eat that shit up, man, and it’s a lesson we all want them to learn: when you see someone being treated unfairly, stick up for them. Give them a hand up. And then maybe spin them around the dance floor while you’re at it.

What’s Treatment Like: Chemo

Posted on by Beth Caldwell

I have gotten lots of questions about the treatment I’m getting for The Cancer. So, let me explain how it’s working.

First off, I’ve gotten chemotherapy. Lots of women with breast cancer have a mastectomy or lumpectomy first, and then chemo, and then radiation. Not so when you’re stage IV–we gotta treat the tumors everywhere in my body, not just the breast. So, I get chemo first, and other treatment later. Because my flavor of cancer has neuroendocrine features (I have no idea what that means except it’s rare, especially in the breast), I’m not getting the most common breast regimen. Instead, they have me on cisplatin and etoposide, which my doctor says is an extremely tough regimen.

What does that look like when we say ” an extremely tough regimen”? Well, here is how a 21-day chemo cycle looks for me. Day 1, a Wednesday: I go to my doctor’s office and plop down in a recliner. They access my portacath (or port for short) with a IV thingy, and start pumping me up with fluids, because cisplatin will ruin your kidneys if you don’t flush them before and after treatment. So, after the fluids, they give me some killer antinausea meds, including a steroid called dexamethasone that can cause perianal burning unless they give it to me slowly. I also get a nausea med called Emend, and finally, my good buddy lorazepam. Then they give me the cisplatin.

By this time it’s about lunch time, so The Hubs (who comes to all my treatments) runs out to grab us lunch. I usually am only hungry for half of it, because round about that time, by body says “Aaaaannnnnd I’m spent” and I fall asleep in the recliner with my nice handmade quilt and my comfy neck pillow that smells like Christmas. (Yay for cancer gifts!) I wake up when they switch me to the etoposide, and usually I get up to go pee sometime in there a time or two, wheeling my IV stand along with me. Then it’s back to snoozeville until the next bag change, an IV of fluids again (must flush those kidneys!), and then eventually they unplug me and send me home, where I sleep some more. By this point, I’ve been there all day.

That’s day 1. Day 2 and 3 are just etoposide, so no kidney-flushing fluids, and no emend. Just the anal burning steroids (that thankfully have not yet caused any anal burning) and the lorazepam. So, it’s a much shorter day, just a couple of hours, but I usually nap anyway, because dude, living with chemo drugs in your body is EXHAUSTING. Like, I thought I was tired when I was pregnant, ha! Hahaha! This is way more so. I never slept 18 hours a day when pregnant.

As for the nausea, man, I am on so many nausea drugs, it really isn’t that bad, as long as I take them. One day this cycle, I waited to take one because I knew I’d be getting that one at chemo time that afternoon, and that was stupid. I will not make that mistake again. I haven’t puked yet but my appetite is definitely off. Like, when I was pregnant, the smell of certain foods would make me queasy, and that’s happening now too. I also get halfway through a meal and just don’t want any more.

I said it’s a 21 day cycle, right, and I described days 1-3. Then what? Well, day 4 and 5 (the weekend) I’m still pretty tired and still really need the nausea meds. Day 6 and 7 I start to have a teeny bit more energy and usually by day 8 or 9 or 10 I feel mostly human again. Tired, but not, like, can’t get out of bed tired, can’t concentrate tired. Just worn out, like after having the flu.

So, usually by day 12, I’m back at work, trying to catch up on everything I missed while I was away. Although, I end up with so many doctor appointments, it can be hard to actually have time to go to work. Having cancer is like having a second job, frankly.

Now, in terms of longer term treatment, my doctor plans 4 cycles of this chemo regimen, and then we see what happens. I’ve been through 3 so far. After the fourth one, we see what the tumors look like, and come up with a next step. Because I am young, and otherwise healthy, and the chemo seems to be shrinking the primary tumor quite nicely, I may end up being a candidate for surgery, or I may have more chemo first, or I may have hormone therapy, or all of the above. To say the plans are up in the air at this point would be a gross understatement, but my doctor is talking to other doctors and we hope to have a more solid plan sometime soon…ish.

Stay tuned for my next installment: radiation therapy!

Cocktails with the Cult: Irish Up Your Coffee

Posted on by Beth Caldwell

Back before we had kids, The Hubs and I used to travel to distant places that require long plane rides. In 2005, we took a cruise around the British Isles with my parents and some friends, and man, that trip totally kicked ass. We met some awesome friends on that cruise who have remained our friends since then, even though they live far away–thank goodness for the Internet!

One of our stops on that cruise was in Belfast, and we took this amazing tour where we drove around the city, hung out at the Giant’s Causeway, saw Dunluce Castle, had lunch in a pub, and stopped at the Bushmills Distillery, where we bought a very nice bottle of Irish whiskey.

Now, I am sure my Celtic ancestors are rolling over in their graves, but I am not a big whiskey drinker. It burns, man. But that Irish whiskey we bought is fucking smooooooooov. I’m told that Irish whiskey, unlike Scotch, is triple distilled. I have no idea what that means except to say that whatever they did to this fancy can-only-be-bought-at-the-distillery stuff? It made it go down easy. Even I can drink it on the rocks. That said, my favorite way to drink it is in an Irish coffee.

Some people think Bailey’s in coffee is an Irish coffee. NO NO NO and FUCK NO. Bailey’s is a lovely thing, it’s great in coffee and milkshakes and cheesecake and whatever. But when someone offers to Irish up your coffee, they’re gonna put Irish Whiskey in it, not Bailey’s. And, they’ll probably use Jameson because they aren’t from Ulster and they aren’t unionists. And that’s OK too. Personally, my ancestors came over to America from Ulster after surviving the siege of Derry, and they were Protestants, so I have no qualms about drinking my orange whiskey. But I don’t mind a little Jameson’s either, because I love a good democracy overturning a monarchy. So just buy whatever whiskey you like.

Irish coffee, like many things of beauty, is pretty simple. Start with good coffee. Add in a shot of Irish whiskey. If you like your coffee sweet, add in some sugar. If you want it fancy, add whipped cream. If you want it really fancy, like, for a party or something, get a Celtic knot stencil and shake some cinnamon onto the whipped cream so it has a fancy pattern.

And there you have it, Irish Coffee. Sláinte!

What Women Need: An End to Domestic Violence

Posted on by Beth Caldwell

I bet you thought I couldn’t get more Debbie Downer than talking about The Cancer all the time. Hahaha! You clearly underestimate me.

Lately I have seen a lot of Facebook memes that say something like “Like if you know it’s never OK to hit a woman” over a picture of a woman with bruises. That shit makes me CRAZY. I really think that the meme-ing for “awareness” of issues like domestic violence is one of the stupidest things we do nowadays. Like, dude, if you don’t know by now that it’s wrong to hit people, I am pretty sure a Facebook meme isn’t gonna teach you that lesson. Also, I mean, way to make a victim’s pain into something trivial like some shitty meme people share on the Internet. Seriously, that person with the bruises? Yeah, she’s a person. Perhaps like-farming with a picture of a woman with a black eye is, shall we say, uncooth?

Which is also why I don’t usually watch TV shows that portray domestic violence. Because domestic violence isn’t entertainment, and most of the portrayals of it that you see on TV are not really about education or raising money for shelters or whatever. They’re about selling advertising, like pretty much all TV shows are. It just creeps me out to know someone is making money off of images of something that traumatic.

Also, I’m not a huge fan of showing us over and over again that women are victims. I feel like in this millennium, we see more women as heroes too, but the whole victim thing hasn’t gone away at all. I just feel like seeing pictures of women being abused, I mean, is that really helping us, as women, to see ourselves as empowered? I personally don’t find it empowering, I find it terrifying, and depressing. Because, what fucking year is this that we’re still putting up with this shit?

Back in 1997, when I was in college and was being a left-wing-radical-mobilizing-force-of-one, me and some friends and classmates went to a march on the National Mall on domestic violence. We carried life-sized bright red silhouettes of women who had been murdered by their partners. I honestly don’t remember what policy changes we were advocating for, or if it was to raise funds, or what. It’s been 14 years since that march, and women are still dying.

How do we make it stop? Well, that one seriously complicated question with a seriously complicated answer. First, we have to make it safe for women to leave their abusers. A woman is more likely to die at the hands of her abuser if she leaves than if she stays. Yes, you read that right, she is more likely to be murdered if she leaves. We need more shelters, and safer ones, with adequate funding, so no woman who has the courage to leave finds herself turned away because there is no room at a shelter. We also need better police protection for women who leave, and stronger laws to lock up the assholes who do this to people they claim to love. Police groups agree and are working on this very issue as we speak.

We also need treatment for offenders. Putting people in jail is a temporary measure. It doesn’t change their hearts and minds. It doesn’t teach them empathy. It doesn’t make them see women as human beings and not property. We need to find the men who do this shit, and deprogram them.

As women, this isn’t something we can do alone. Just like we can’t do it with Facebook memes, we can’t do it without the support of the good men in our lives. This has to be something we convince men to care about. And many do. There actually are great organizations out there right now doing that very work, like Men Stopping Violence.

I guess what I’m saying is, women are dying. Right now, as I type this. Facebook memes aren’t going to fix it, but real change, and real help for survivors of abuse, CAN make a difference. So, the next time you see a picture of a bruised woman come across your newsfeed, don’t just scroll by or click like. Write to Congress, or donate to an organization that is making change. Because women’s lives are at stake.

Beth’s Classic Film Club: Roman Holiday

Posted on by Beth Caldwell

Get out your popcorn and box wine, it’s time for Beth’s Classic Film Club! Today I bring you one of my favorite actresses, because she’s so vulnerable and yet strong: Audrey Hepburn. It’s crazy looking at this film to realize it was her first big break. I mean, she NAILS this performance. It’s like the invented the phrase “like a boss” to describe how well she plays this role. Which explains why she won an Oscar.

OK, basic plot: Audrey is a princess on the edge of a nervous breakdown in the middle of some kind of a goodwill tour through Europe, so she sneaks out of her villa in Rome to have an adventure. She winds up with the handsome Gregory Peck, a newspaperman who figures out that she’s a princess. He recruits his photographer friend to take pictures of them all over town, so he can write an expose on the princess. Hilarity and romance ensue and the movie has a wonderful bittersweet ending that takes this film from “yeah, that was charming” to “I wish I knew what happened next after the picture ends!” Which explains why this film also won an Oscar for writing. And, which I think makes this a perfect film to watch with your girlfriends because you all may have different reactions to how things played out and what the future holds for the characters.

Not only is the acting outstanding, but the cinematography is great too, and so are the costumes. In fact, this picture won a costume design Oscar too.

I know when people think Audrey Hepburn, they think Breakfast at Tiffany’s, which is Fine if you can get past the horrifically racist yellow-face of Mickey Rooney as the landlord (sweet baby Jesus, is THAT awful). But Roman Holiday is just…just so much more. Just, give it a watch, you’ll be glad you did!

On Aging

Posted on by Beth Caldwell

You want to know what’s most ironic about me having Stage IV cancer? For years, I have been dreaming about how awesome it’d be to be an old lady. No, seriously, old age kicks ass. Let me explain why.

The Hubs and I have been on a lot of cruises, and one of the things I like best about a cruise is that the age of passengers tends to skew pretty old. Old people have the BEST stories, so they make the most interesting dinner companions. One cruise, The Hubs and I sat with a couple of old ladies from England, and man were they a trip. It was so interesting to listen to them talk about their lives, but my favorite thing about them was that one of them would always order an extra side of ice cream with her dessert. Because she’s already lived this long, what’s it gonna do, kill her? Make her fat? Who gives a shit, she’s old.

Old is being a badass. Old is not having to care what anyone thinks of how you look or what you wear. Old is being able to tell it like it is. Old is freedom.

I went to Vegas last December with some girlfriends and we sat for a while in a bar at the Paris casino, and listened to one of the most awesomely bad lounge singers I have ever heard. Guy had a guitar and a karaoke machine and you just KNEW it was gonna be good when he started playing Margaritaville. And I turned to my girlfriends and I said, “When I retire, I am totally gonna be a lounge singer in Vegas. If this guy can get a gig, I sure as hell can.”

You know what else I want to do when I retire? Live in a senior community. It’s just like a college dorm except with Hoverounds. All your friends are in one place, and there’s a cafeteria so you don’t even have to cook, and you can hang out all day in your PJ’s, and when you feel like it, there are enrichment classes to go to and movie nights and shit. See? Just like college, plus HOVEROUNDS.

Now that I have The Cancer, I don’t get to dream about my old age so happily. I can’t just think about the future in a breezy way anymore like I used to. Old age has become my deepest desire, one I am almost afraid to hope for, because there is a good chance it won’t happen for me.

Actually, I already have the shitty parts of old age. I’m tired a lot, my hair fell out, and I spend all my free time at doctor appointments. It would be really nice to get some of the perks too. Like a Hoveround. And getting to be a lounge singer in Vegas.

So, now when I hear people complain about aging, about their wrinkles and the hair growing from their ears and whatever, I dunno. I try to keep in mind that my perspective now is all fucked up, and most people can’t see their wrinkles and their aches and pains the way I do. But mostly I just want to tell people to shut. the. fuck. up. Because there is a lot of awesomeness that happens when you’re old. Old is fucking beautiful.

Children’s Television Survival Guide: Zerby Derby

Posted on by Beth Caldwell

You guys! I finally found another children’s television show that I don’t hate! And it happens to be The Boy’s new favorite show too. Zerby Derby, I heart you so much.

So, here’s the set up: some dudes bought some RC vehicles and put wiggly eyes on them, in an homage to the original Thomas before it was all CGI and Thomas turned into a whiny jerk. Then they gave the cars dorky voices and drove them around a forest and a sand pit and whatever. And they filmed it, and somehow they got the Sprout Channel to buy it. And that’s it, that’s Zerby Derby.

The Boy loves this show because it involves things that go. The Boy LOVES things that go. People told me he would outgrow it and like dinosaurs instead, but nope. Things that go, for almost 7 years now.

I love the show because of the outtakes at the end of each (mercifully short) episode. Like, you guys probably know by now that I like when a show is a little self-aware, like when Nina from The Goodnight Show looks at us like “I know this is dorky, I’m in on the joke.” Well, Zerby Derby totally does that with the outtakes, which are shots of the RC vehicles crashing into each other or falling off things or whatever. The Boy likes that part too, actually.

In summary: try Zerby Derby. It’s 8 minutes of dorkyness, and if you’re a dork like me, you’ll love it.

I have always relied on the kindness of friends

Posted on by Beth Caldwell

I always knew that my friends and family were awesome people, but I had no idea just how awesome until The Cancer. Here is a list of just SOME of the awesome things that people have done to support my family lately:

1. My east coast friends and some of The Hubs’ former coworkers collected money to pay for a housekeeping service to come and clean our house every few weeks. They raised enough to pay for the service through the end of the year.

2. Some mom friends I met online, most of whom I have never met in person, made me a quilt. They each picked a different fabric (including one that’s got strips of bacon, and another with martini glasses) and then one of them sewed it together. It’s gorgeous.

3. A couple of my friends set up a website where people can sign up to bring us dinner or pick up the kids from school if we have doctor appointments. We haven’t had to cook a weeknight dinner in weeks because we’ve had people bringing us food every night.

4. Several of the parents of The Boy’s friends have offered to take him for play dates, which makes him feel loved and special.

5. My college BFF flew out to visit and spent the entire time she was here cleaning our house and reorganizing the disaster area that is my desk in our home office.

6. My work colleagues donated hundreds of hours of leave for me, so I don’t have to take unpaid leave when I’m getting chemo and going to doctor appointments and just feeling too tired to come to work.

7. Our awesome daycare provider said “I’ll keep The Girl late anytime you need me to, for no charge.” This after she’d given us a bunch of prepared meals so we had food for lunches.

8. My big sister came up to stay with us a couple of weekends and spent the whole time doing our dishes and folding our laundry and taking care of our kids when I was a chemo zombie.

9. People who follow this blog have been sending me messages of support and offering to send meals and CDs and anything I need. One of them who I have become friends with sent me a really awesome pillow thingy that smells like Christmas and you can warm it in the microwave.

10. I’ve gotten SO MANY beautiful scarves and hats, some of them hand knit, from friends all over the country, and even a couple that came from Turkey that I can’t figure out who sent them to me. (I don’t know anyone in Turkey…but perhaps someone I know knows someone in Turkey?)

11. A bunch of people who don’t live close have sent gift cards to help us pay for groceries or take-out.

12. One of my coworkers gave me a bottle of organic locally made vodka. I can’t wait to be feeling well enough to drink it.

13. I can’t tell you how many people have baked us cookies.

14. A blogger friend found a pair of pink high-heeled shoes at her local thrift/vintage store and wrote “FUCK CANCER” across the front of them and mailed them to me.

15. SO MANY KIND WORDS. Just, so much support and love coming my way, in emails and Facebook messages and cards, and so many hugs. Even people at work, where we don’t hug that much, are hugging me these days. (But not in a creepy way.)

There’s more, but I’m getting all verklempt thinking about it. A few people have said that it’s a testament to what a great person I am that so many people love me and want to support me. And, I am pretty awesome…but I also think it’s that I’ve surrounded myself with awesome people. And that seems to be the key to getting through a bad time–to have awesome people around you. If you don’t have awesome people around you, dude, now’s the time to find some, because you never know when you’re going to have a crisis and need a pair of pink high heeled shoes and a quilt and some dinner and a housekeeping service and OMG are people really doing all this for us? And I’m in shock for a minute, until I remember how awesome the people are that I’ve got in my life.