Kicking cancer's ass - day 447

Yesterday I had a total meltdown.  I have no idea why.  I was home alone and started to get teary, then sniffly, and then all-out sobbing.  My first thought was, "Have I been forgetting to take my Lexapro?"  
My second thought was, "What the heck is wrong with me?"

I really don't think I'm a "woe is me" kind of person (I try not to be, anyway), but I guess even strong, positive gals like me have to reach their limit sometimes.  I'm just so damn sick of how much cancer is affecting my life.  I'm beyond grateful to be healthy.  I'm impressed with the medical advances that have been made and I'm so thankful for the skill my plastic surgeons have, enabling me to have reconstructed breasts that don't feel like gel packs.

But getting up out of the chair hurts.  Every time.  It takes me fifteen minutes to pee because I have to wrestle with my compression shorts and drains.  Taking a shower takes monumental effort and wears me out for the rest of the day.  I miss sleeping with my husband, but I don't dare try to sleep in bed because I'm not allowed to sleep on my side or my stomach.

I know I chose this reconstruction route and I knew what I was getting into.  That doesn't mean I can't bitch and moan a little bit about how much of a pain it is (literally).

Aside from that, I have an afro.  Am I grateful to have hair?  You betcha.  But I don't know what to DO with it.  It's my same old puffy, thick, curly hair.... but it's so short that it doesn't do anything except grow puffier, thicker and curlier.  It's insane.

Moving on to my mom....and the fact that she has to have chemo.  She was supposed to come here to help us with the kids and help me when I came home from my surgery.  That plan was nixed because of her own surgery.  We've only spent one Thanksgiving apart since J was born.  This will be the second.  I hate that her fall holiday visit isn't happening.  Her next plan was to come for spring break.  Since I don't know when she'll start chemo or how long it will last, that trip may not happen either.  I miss my mom.  I hate that I can't be there for her.  I hate that the cancer world I've lived in for the last sixteen months is now her world, too.

In early 2001 I had a miscarriage.
In early 2005 I had another miscarriage.
In 2007 Hubby lost his big brother in a motorcycle accident.
One month later Hubby lost one of his oldest, closest friends.
In 2010 we lost Hubby's mom to a recurrence of breast cancer.
Four months later we lost Hubby's step-mom to what we believe was a heart attack (she was only 52).
Not long after that my BFF's mom was diagnosed with breast cancer.
The next summer my BFF's sister had a major heart attack (at age 42).
After that my BFF was diagnosed with breast cancer.
The year after that Hubby's brother's wife was diagnosed with breast cancer.
In 2013 I was diagnosed with breast cancer.
Two months after that my friend's husband was diagnosed with colon cancer.
In 2014 I lost my dear friend to ovarian cancer.
A month later my dad had a heart attack and a major stroke.
Three months later my mom was diagnosed with colon cancer.

I'm blessed.  I know I'm blessed, beyond measure.  I have the strongest, most loyal, most supportive husband in the world who loves me - scars and all.  I have the two sweetest, most genuine, most beautiful children that I wouldn't have if I hadn't suffered those earlier losses.  I have wonderful, wonderful friends who are willing to lend a hand whenever I need it (even though I despise being needy).  We have a nice warm house, food on our table and our Cowboys have a winning record.  Life can be so good!

When Hubby and I said our vows, I know we meant every word.  I just think it's about time the man upstairs gives us a little more of the "for better" parts and maybe puts the "for worse" times fewer and farther between!