Kicking cancer's ass - day 2594

 

2020 sucks.  I'm not telling you anything you don't already know.  
I'm usually a glass half full kinda girl, but lately I'm just... not.

It's driving me crazy.  I don't know if it's that this year and all of the stress and worry is finally getting to me, or if I'm just going through a rough patch.  Whatever it is, I DO NOT LIKE IT.

I should be wearing green every day, because I'm finding myself very envious lately.  Don't get me wrong, I'm blessed and I know it.  I survived a beast that tried to kill me.  I have a loving family and small group of friends who would do anything for me.  I have a cozy home, a brand new car, two kids who make my heart so happy and a husband who holds my heart in his hands.

But.... but....

I'm envious of people who went through what I did and didn't end up with lymphedema.  I'm envious of ladies who can wear cute tank tops or short sleeve shirts.  I'm envious of everyone who does not have one ugly arm.  I'm envious of people who had surgery for lymphedema and it WORKED.  I'm envious of people who don't even know what cellulitis is, let alone have to worry about it.  I'm envious of everyone who does not have to deal with this condition 24/7 for the rest of their life.

I'm envious of people who live in beautiful areas.  An author I follow on Facebook walks down to her pond every day to feed the fish.  Another posts her "writing view" pics of gorgeous Lake Tahoe.  Other friends post pictures of walks they take, bike rides, visits to the coast.... and I am envious!  I wouldn't trade my life with Hubby and the kids for anything.  But where I live is not pretty to me.  I have no desire to get out an "enjoy" the nature I'm surrounded by.  I grew up in upstate NY in the Catskill mountains.  I lived in South Carolina for five years, two hours from the ocean.  For the last two decades I have lived in godforsakenwesttexas.  I can't even take my dog for a walk without driving somewhere because there are cars going 75mph on the highway in front of my house.  (Don't get me wrong... there are a lot of things I love about Texas... but the scenery is not one of them)

I'm envious of couples with couples friends.  I'm not saying Hubby and I don't have friends.  We do.  Many good ones.  But for some reason we aren't the couple people socialize with.  Maybe I'm too much of an introvert.  Maybe we like other people more than they like us.  I don't know.  There are so many posts on social media today from people's Halloween parties... from families to adult friends dressed up to softball teams going all out.  And I just feel left out.  Sometimes I wish Hubby and I were the ones invited.  (I realize we couldn't socialize even if we wanted to right now... Hubby has COVID so he's in isolation and we are quarantined....but my feelings go beyond Halloween parties.)

I'm envious of people who live near their families.  I'm extremely blessed that both of my parents are alive and well, even after cancer and a heart attack and a stroke!  But they live in New York.  The only way I can see my dad is if I go there.  My mom usually comes every Thanksgiving for Jared's birthday, but not this year (thank you COVID).  My only sibling, my big brother, passed away 20 months ago.  Even though he didn't live near me, he was always just a phone call away. 

I'm envious of people who sleep well.  I've always been a night owl and I don't mind that.  But since I was diagnosed with cancer seven years ago, between the anxiety and the meds and my restless legs, I don't sleep.  Last night, even though we turned the clocks back so there was an extra hour to the night, I slept a whopping 5 hours and 50 minutes.  And that's actually a good night for me.  

I know this sounds like one big pity party, and maybe it is.  Sometimes you just have to let it all out.  I miss my friends who moved away.  I miss my BFF who is no longer with us.  I miss the pre-COVID days when we didn't have all of this WORRY.  I usually don't get into politics, but I'm very anxious about the upcoming presidential election.  I miss my Hubby who is living the bachelor life in our RV while he isolates because of COVID.  Even though I can still see him (from a distance) and talk to him, I just want a HUG!  I want to sleep in the same bed with him and watch tv shows with him and go out to eat.  I'm sad that my son is missing his girlfriend and he can't go to work.  I'm sad that my daughter, my very SOCIAL daughter, is having to miss out on things and stay away from her friends.  

Yesterday I took my car to the car wash, just so I could get out.  That should tell you everything you need to know about my state of mind these days...

 

Kicking cancer's ass - day 2577

 

Nineteen years ago today, October 15^th, Hubby and I went to the courthouse and got married.  It was just us and the JP.  We said the classic marriage vows, exchanged rings and a kiss.  It took about fifteen minutes, then we went out to lunch.  Simple and honest.  That day would set the tone for our life together. 

He is my favorite, my best friend, my rock.  He teases me and makes me laugh and holds me when I cry.  He gives the best shoulder rubs.  He puts up with my OCD and my crazy dog.  He’s the best dad to our kids and the best guy to have at your back when you need something.  He lets me load the dishwasher because he knows I'll just rearrange it anyway.  He always washes the egg pan.  He's my pool guy, my RV repair guy, my scorpion killer, my lawn guy, and my boss (at work... ha ha).  I always joke that it's "all about me", but for him, it is.  He always puts me first.

Nineteen seems like such an... insignificant... number.  I mean, eighteen seemed like a milestone last year.  Next year, twenty WILL be a milestone!  But for me, for us, nineteen *is* a milestone.  Every year that we beat the odds and continue to live happily (and healthy!) is a milestone.

We “met” online almost 21 years ago.  I was 26, lurking in a chat room for 30-somethings.  He lied about his name (ahem “Adam”).  Conversations online led to emails which led to phone calls (and huge phone bills!)  which eventually led to meeting in person six months later.   Despite his mom telling him to “call it off!”, he got on a plane to South Carolina.  Love took hold and we’ve never looked back.  Our first “date” was at a Waffle House at 2am after I picked him up at the airport.  I introduced him to the ocean and he brought me to Texas. 

Just like any other love story, ours has its share of ups and downs.  We’ve lost friends and siblings and even his mom.  We lost babies (see below).  We went through CANCER.   I honestly don't know how I would have gotten through the last two decades without him by my side.  As much as we’ve leaned on each other in the tough times, we’ve laughed and loved through a lot of good times.   Raising kids, going to football games, casino trips, softball tournaments, weddings, band concerts, lunch dates after many, many doctor appointments, road trips, Netflix binges, evenings out by the pool – everything has been better with him by my side. 

 

I’m a night owl.  He turns into a pumpkin at 10pm.  I’m a neat freak.  He’s.... not.  I’m an emotional mess most of the time.  He’s a stoic realist.  I worry about everything.  He only worries about the important things.  I'm a spender, he's a saver.  I drive fast, I call him a grandpa driver.  I'm a reader, he's a tv-watcher.  Somehow it all works.  My hubby is the ultimate responsible family man, and his unconditional love for me is one of the greatest blessings of my life.

 Happy Anniversary to us! 

Kicking cancer's ass - day 2562

The following is a compilation of my "Pinktober" posts from the last seven years.  Instead of repeating myself,  I'm just going to share again.  It's exactly how I feel to this day.  I don't think we need to be any more "aware" of breast cancer, but buying/wearing/displaying anything pink or with a pink ribbon means support of anyone affected by this disease, including me.  So thank you!!  

p.s. My shirt today says "Wear pink like a boss"   Damn straight!

***

It's October.  You know what that means.  Pink everywhere.  Are you aware of breast cancer?  I'm pretty sure you are.  I know for damn sure I am!  Many, many breast cancer survivors have negative feelings towards breast cancer awareness month.  In a way, I get it.  I mean, who isn't aware of breast cancer?  And most of the pink ribbon stuff you see is just a gimmick - people making money off of it instead of "supporting the cause".  

However, because I am so aware of breast cancer, the whole "Pinktober" thing doesn't bother me.  In a way, I kind of embrace it.  Breast cancer has changed my life.  Both of my grandmothers and my Hubby's mom died from this awful disease.  My best friend, my best friend's mom, my sister-in-law... they are all survivors, too.  In a couple of weeks I am going to Las Vegas to meet a group of women who were in the trenches with me this time last year, and have all come out the other side.  We even had shirts made, and the back says "Friends don't let friends fight cancer alone."  I don't make it my mission to advertise that I had cancer, and I don't really think breast cancer awareness is the problem.  Breast cancer is the problem.  

I don't wear pink to make people aware.  I don't wear my pink ribbon necklace so people will know I had breast cancer.  I support "the cause", because in turn, I'm supporting the women who have been and are right there with me.  Fighting cancer is a big, huge deal, and every day that I wake up breathing and smiling is a big fat "f-you" to cancer.  And that's worth wearing pink for! 

***

I'm a riser

I'm a get off of the ground, don't run and hider

When pushin' comes to shove

Hey I'm a fighter

When darkness comes to town, I'm a lighter

A get out a-liver, of the fire

Survivor

***

A couple of weeks ago I was talking with a softball coach from out of town, and she mentioned that her mom has breast cancer.  I told her that I am a three year breast cancer survivor, and her email reply was:

That's AWESOME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!   

Yeah.  It damn sure is.

Next weekend is our softball league's fifth annual "Hope for a Cure" tournament.  K's team will be wearing special pink ribbon jerseys, and I bought Hubby a pin that says "Real men wear pink".  Not because I want to jump on the Pinktober bandwagon, but because this has been a very real, very difficult, very personal journey and "Pinktober" MEANS something to me.  When I hand out the trophies and medals to the winning teams next Sunday and tell them that I'm a breast cancer survivor, it shows those young girls that breast cancer is more than just a pink ribbon on a cup.  I can look at them and smile and tell them thank you for playing for a such a good cause.  I can give them a face for "Pinktober".

***

 

It's PINKTOBER!

I wrote this last October 1st, and it's still how I feel about Breast Cancer Awareness Month.  

In case you've been living under a rock, October is Breast Cancer Awareness month.  That means you will be inundated with ads online and on tv for anything and everything pink.  People will start those stupid chain messages on Facebook about a "no bra day" to support the cause.  People will tell you to "save second base".  You'll have the opportunity to buy pink shirts, socks, shoes, pens, jewelry, rubbermaid containers, hammers, etc.  You name it, someone has jumped on the pink ribbon bandwagon for it.

Most of my breast cancer survivor friends have a hate/hate relationship with this month, and the color pink.  It's true that most of the hype does NOT raise any money for breast cancer care or research.  There are a ton of articles and web sites about how little profit from pink ribbon sales actually goes to the cause.  Most of it is just that.... profit.  Only a very small percentage, if any, of pink ribbon merchandise sales actually goes towards anything related to breast cancer.  So basically it's just people and businesses capitalizing on breast cancer.

That's the negative.  I don't blame my friends for feeling that way, and I don't agree with anyone wanting to make a profit on something that tried to kill me.

However..... I don't mind Pinktober.  I don't mind pink ribbon items. 

 I love pink!

Having breast cancer changed my life.  While it doesn't define me, it has changed the way I look, the way I feel, and the way I view things.  And the way I view this whole pink ribbon campaign is this:  if you know me, or someone else, who has been affected by breast cancer, and you choose to wear a shirt with a pink ribbon on it, or buy pink trash bags, or put a pink ribbon magnet on your car, I don't think you are "giving in" to the hype.  In my opinion, by doing any of those things, you are showing your support for me (or whoever) and the fact that I'm a survivor of this horrible disease.

While Hefty may donate little or no profit from the sale of pink trash bags, the fact that you bought them with ME in mind means that the whole gimmick worked.  Your purchase of those trash bags will not provide a cure for cancer..... but it does show support.  And one of the most important weapons in a cancer patient's arsenal is support.

(To be clear, I have no clue if Hefty sells pink trash bags.... that's just an example I made up because let's face it, you can buy everything from pens to scarves to boots with pink ribbons on them!)

Kicking cancer's ass - day 2511

On Feb 2, 1973 I earned the title "daughter".

On Oct 15, 2001 I earned the title "wife".

On Nov 28, 2001 I earned the title "mom".

On Aug 1, 2013 I earned the title "breast cancer survivor".

Seven years ago today, I heard the dreaded words "you have cancer".  

I knew it before the doctor called, but I can still hear her voice on the phone telling me "it's not good."

Most people I know count their "survivorship" time from when they had surgery, or when they finished chemotherapy.... some point that they can say their cancer was gone.

Maybe I'm superstitious, but I have never tried to figure out a date to mark when I became cancer free.  Supposedly after sixteen weeks of chemo treatments, the cancer was on its way out.  Surely after my surgery, it was gone.  And just in case, I'm pretty sure 33 radiation treatments probably killed any that was left.  

However, even now, after so many years, there's always the worry that there's some little tiny evil cancer cell lurking somewhere in my body, making me NOT cancer free.  

My breast surgeon told me that the day I was diagnosed, I became a survivor.  So instead of counting my cancer-free days, I count the days of being a survivor.

Cancer changes a person.  Fear takes over your life.  Your future becomes unknown.

You stop taking things for granted.  

"Yesterday's the past, tomorrow's the future, but today is a GIFT. 

That's why it's called the present."

Every day is a gift.  Even the ones where I was sick, or bald, or in pain.  Even the ones where I didn't recognize myself in the mirror.  Even the ones where I couldn't eat.  Even the ones where I had to drive three hours for yet another doctor appointment.  Even the ones where I had to undergo yet another surgery (eight and counting).  Even the days where I thought "I just can't".... it turns out I could!

Life after cancer is different, but it can be glorious.

Seven years ago, I was so incredibly afraid that my husband and kids were going to have to say goodbye to me.  I was so afraid that I was going to miss out on so much of their childhood.  Seven years ago I never would've believed that I'd be around to see my son graduate high school.  Seven years ago I never expected I'd be here alive and well to enjoy all of my daughter's high school "firsts".   Seven years ago I never would have imagined having the time to drag Hubby to the beach for a week's vacation!

My mind isn't as sharp and my attention span is zilch (thank you, chemo brain).  

My body is scarred, and doesn't look or feel the same.  

I developed lymphedema (swelling which requires constant compression) thanks to the removal of all of the lymph nodes under my arm during my mastectomy.

My joints hurt, I can't sleep well and my restless legs are worse than ever.

I still have multiple doctor appointments every year, and "scanxiety" is very much a real thing.

The fear is always there.  My mother-in-law was cancer-free for ten years before she passed away when it returned.  My "second mom" Barb thought she had "beat" it.  My BFF Trudy certainly didn't expect it to come back and take her life before she turned 50.  

Maybe my time is limited...or maybe I'll live to be a very old woman.

Only God knows.  All I know is that I'll continue to kick cancer's ass every single day.  

I'm proud of myself, and I'm so grateful for everyone who has gotten me through the last seven years.  My hubby has been my rock.  My kids are the most resilient and thoughtful human beings.  My friends have stepped up whenever I needed them to.  And my mother has been my biggest cheerleader.  I couldn't do this without my village.   

Kicking cancer's ass - day 2449

In the blink of an eye, my daughter went from this:

and this:

and this: 

to this:

and this:

and this:

Today my little girl is not so little anymore.  It is her fourteenth birthday.  She is going into high school next year.  She spends more time with her friends - on the phone and in person - then her parents.  It's such a bittersweet time.  I adore the young lady she is growing into SO MUCH, but I sometimes really, really miss when she was little, taking a bath in the sink or eating bluebonnets during a photo shoot.  

Over the years, though, K may have grown taller and smarter and more beautiful, but there are so many things that have remained the same.  

She is genuine, and genuinely sweet.  There is not a mean bone in this girl's body.

She loves animals.  She has a bond with Dexter like I've never seen.  She was so devoted to our cats Pumpkin and Shadow.  She loves horses and birds and turtles and all of God's living creatures (except for monkeys.... they give her the creeps).  She is sensitive and feels things very deeply.  She cried for an hour after her goldfish from the fair died.  She loves everyone and wants everyone to love her.  She has excellent taste in friends and I'm so grateful that the girls she's chosen to travel the high school journey with are as smart, sweet and fun as she is.

For a long time I always joked that J should have been Uncle Darren's son.  There were a lot of years where he was very much like his uncle.  As he's matured, he has become more reserved and introverted.  His sister, on the other hand, has taken on my brother's outgoing personality.  She loves to be the center of attention, she loves to laugh, and she loves to be surrounded by her friends.  Her social life puts mine to shame!

K is the definition of a well-rounded teenager.  She plays bass clarinet and looks forward to marching band in the fall.  She starred in a one act play (with a British accent) and earned a best actress award.  She tangoed across the stage as the leg lamp in A Christmas Story.  When she was 6 years old, she volunteered to play catcher on her softball team.... a position at that age nobody wants.  During one tournament she played five games in a row in over 100 degree heat, and added a bee sting to the mix.  When she reached the age of kid pitch, she decided she wanted to be a pitcher.  For the last ten years, one of the greatest joys of my life has been watching her do her thing on the softball field.  For the last two years she has played tennis for her school, and she will continue that in high school.  Her creativity and work ethic in Destination Imagination is impressive.  Sometimes she gets annoyed, sometimes she doesn't get to do what she wants to do, but she always come through for her team.  Like at this year's tournament when she was feeling very sick all day, but she dug deep and gave incredible performances, earning her a "most valuable chicken" t-shirt from her team.

K's name means "brave".  Whether it's going through with riding a zip line, with tears going down your face, even though you were so scared, or pushing through the pain and pitching an entire game with a hurt ankle or injured knee, you never cease to amaze me.  A few months ago I sat outside the curtain at your school when you auditioned for the spring musical.  I couldn't see you, but I could hear you.  You chose to sing a song without music.... just you and your sweet voice.  Never in my life did I have that kind of confidence.  You live up to the meaning of your name every single day.

One of the best parts of you is how much you make us laugh.  Your quirks, your jokes, your silly accents, your selfies, your blonde moments... life is never boring with you around!  I love your sparkle.  I love that you are right at home in cleats and batting gloves, but also in blinged up cowgirl boots and makeup.  You're my concert buddy and my pedicure date.  You are the only person I know who can sleep through a Dallas Cowboys game and not one but TWO Taylor Swift concerts.  Since 2006 you have been dancing in the rain, taking goofy selfies, fearlessly riding roller coasters and joyfully living life OUT LOUD.

I never imagined how much having a daughter would mean to me, and I had no idea how much I long every day to always be your best friend.  

I have been kicking cancer's ass for 2,449 days, and one of the main reasons I will never stop fighting is for you.  I'm so grateful that I have been given these last 2,449 days with you, and I can not wait to see the beautiful person you keep growing up to be.  

 

Happy 14th birthday K.  I love you big.