Kicking cancer's ass - day 1325

Because why not, right?  

I think I'm going to print that picture out and tape it on my mirror, because there are days when it's really difficult to focus on being awesome.  Fighting cancer is hard.  Diagnosis, treatment, surgeries... they all suck.  Surviving cancer is also hard. You'd like to think it's all "life is such a blessing" but it's not that easy.  Sometimes I look around at my fellow survivors, my friends, and I wonder how they are kicking ass at life and I'm not.  They are happy and energetic and getting fit and don't seem to worry every minute of every day about their health.  They aren't wallowing in the effects of cancer treatment or filled with fear of an unknown future.

Sometimes it seems like I am the only one who struggles this much.  I'm tired.  Like, really tired.   I have trouble sleeping at night, which means I'm exhausted all day.  There is no such thing as a "cat nap" for me anymore.  If I take a nap, I might as well put on my pjs and climb into bed, because it's LIGHTS OUT for hours, and it's so hard to wake up.  I have to set two different alarms on my phone because one doesn't wake me up in the morning.

My self-esteem is non-existent.  Even though I'm getting close to my 10,000 steps every day, I can't seem to find the time, energy or motivation to work out.  I hate to say it, but my exercise bike has become the cliche clothes rack.  I've never before weighed as much as I do now.  It's depressing.  I hate the way I look, I hate the way I feel, I hate the way my clothes fit (or don't fit... ha ha).  But it seems like no matter how much or how little I eat, no matter how active I am, the scale just keeps creeping up.  Thank you, cancer, and thank you, menopause, and thank you, Tamoxifen.  

I feel really guilty complaining about any of this, because you know what?  It could be worse.  

For my BFF, it is worse.  Yesterday she had her 2nd chemo treatment after her doctor switched her from oral chemo to the more powerful IV infusions.  This is her THIRD go-round with cancer.  In September she had clean scans.  Now her breast cancer has come back, with a vengeance, despite having surgery, chemo and radiation 5 years ago. 

F*** you, cancer.  

This disease has touched a lot of people in my life, but this one hurts the most.  It's a serious battle for her, and I'm so afraid.  She may not have been born my sister, but she's the sister of my heart, and I can't imagine my world without her in it.

We all weather storms differently.  Some people fight their battle and walk away like a boss.  Some people get pulled under by it and struggle to find their way out.  I think maybe I'm somewhere in the middle.  I don't feel like I've mastered this cancer survivorship thing yet..... but I'm working on it.  One day I'd like to thumb my nose at cancer, turn away and never look back.  One day I'd like to live without fear.  One day I'd like to know that this sneaky, mean, treacherous beast of a disease will not hurt me or anyone I love ever again.  

Both of my grandmothers had cancer and died when I was young.  I don't have any memories of them.

My mother-in-law passed away from breast cancer in 2010.  My kids won't have many memories of her. 

My dear friend passed away from ovarian cancer in 2014.  

My BFF's mom passed away right after Christmas after her breast cancer returned.

My BFF had cervical cancer and is now fighting breast cancer for the 2nd time.

My sister-in-law had breast cancer.

In 2013, I was diagnosed with Stage III, BRCA 2+ breast cancer.  The exact same diagnosis as my BFF.

In 2014 my mom was diagnosed with colon cancer.

That's a lot of damn storms people I know have had to fight.  Most days I enjoy my life.  I work and shop and go out to eat.  I nag my kids and husband, laugh with my friends and cheer my daughter's softball team on.  I'm living a typical suburban mom life and I'm lucky to be living it with a man who loves me and two kids who light up my world.  

But tonight I'm just angry.  I thought maybe getting my thoughts out would help, but instead of being cathartic, it's just pissing me off more.  

Kicking cancer's ass - day 1299

My thoughts are heavy, my soul is weary.  I am afraid, but I will not be silent.  I found these pictures and felt like they were urging me to "keep speaking".... as in, get everything out of my head and put my feelings into words.

So.... since it's 1:04am, I guess this is another Insomniac Blogging entry.

Before I begin - a disclaimer:  If you've seen some of my posts on Facebook lately, I want you to know that I am fine.  There's a lot of crap happening, but not to me.  Hubby, the kids, the parents... they are all fine.

But...

I'll start with the bad news.  (And no, there isn't good news.  Just bad, worse and the absolute worst.) 😟  Someone that my family knows recently committed suicide.  This person was only fifteen years old.  Same age as my son.  My heart aches for the family, and for the fact that a young person with their whole life ahead of them felt like there was no hope and their only option was to give up.  Since we knew this person, and will still see their family, that is a conversation I will have to have with my children.  I am NOT looking forward to it.

The worse news?  Hubby's longtime friend is ill.  Seriously ill.  Dangerously ill.  He was taken by helicopter to Dallas for a heart transplant, but a whole host of other medical issues are going to prevent that.  His daughter and son are emotionally worn out and physically exhausted.  Hubby's friend is scared and confused, and facing an uncertain future.  It's a bad situation all the way around.  We've known this family for a long, long time.  It hurts to see them going through this and knowing there's nothing we can do except pray for them.

And now for the very worst.  Someone close to me, someone who had breast cancer before, is once again facing the beast.  And if you know anything at all about cancer, you know that if it comes back, it's almost always worse.  It is worse this time.  I wish I could hit something or cry or scream or SOMEthing.  But honestly I'm just numb.  I can't wrap my brain around the news.

I was asked tonight if I have survivor's guilt.  I've never really felt that way before.
I think I do now.
There are several women in my breast cancer support group (who were sick the same time I was) who have been diagnosed again since then.  They have faced more surgeries, more chemo, and have gone through the terrible physical and emotional toll all over again.  One lovely lady didn't survive more than a few months the second time.  But I don't think I've ever really thought "why them and not me?"  I've tried to lend moral support, wisdom, love and strength, and I've prayed for healing for all of my friends.  But this latest news has crushed me.  I'm absolutely devastated that this amazing person who means so much to me is going through this.  And I'm so scared.  So scared for her, and (selfishly) so scared for me, because now I am asking "why her and not me?".  

They say bad things happen in threes..... and I hope that's true.  Because after three instances of really bad news in one week, my heart can't take any more.  

I'm doing my best to have faith in God.  I know He can perform miracles.  I know He has a plan.  I know He loves us and is in control.  (All wise words of my hero Allyson Hendrickson, by the way.)  

I just hope he will answer my prayers.

I pray for A's family as they deal with the unexpected loss of such a remarkable young person.

I pray for D and his family as they work to get him stronger so his health will improve.

Most of all, I pray for my friend.  I pray for healing.  I pray for a medical team to have compassion and knowledge and to find any medical advances in cancer treatment that may help her beat the odds.  I pray for her emotional well being and I pray for her body's ability to endure chemotherapy again.  I pray for her family and everyone who loves her.  

I pray for miracles.  

Kicking cancer's ass - day 1293

My husband is not a complainer.  He has been going through a bit of a rough patch lately.   He has constant neck and shoulder (nerve) pain as he heals from his surgery three months ago.  Kind of disheartening to know that it can take many more months to heal, if it ever does.  There are also some things going on at work that are adding to his stress.  Being your own boss is terrific, but the responsibility of owning a business is a heavy burden sometimes.

His brother is having some health issues that landed him in the hospital a couple of weeks ago.   One of his dearest longtime friends is also having health issues, and he had to be flight-lifted to Dallas where he is awaiting a heart transplant.  This friend's daughter has been keeping us updated on her dad's condition, and she had asked the other day if Hubby would come by, thinking a visit from his buddy would lift her dad's spirits.  Seeing someone you care about and have known for decades in ICU, hooked up to machines, swollen from kidney failure and crazy from meds, is not what anyone would describe as fun.  When I asked if he was going to go, he gave me two words:  Of course.

Did you just hear my heart flutter?  When someone he loves needs something, he does it - no questions asked.  All of this is weighing him down, day by day.
He doesn't say it, but knowing him, I see it.

I'd like to ask God to give Hubby a break.  I can do all that I can to make his life easier, happier, better..... but there are some things out of my control, and it would be tremendous if some of Hubby's burdens could be lifted.

I'd also like to ask God to lift up my BFF.  Next week will be major scanxiety for her as she undergoes numerous tests and waits for results to make sure nothing scary is going on with her.  I'm sending lots of prayers, as well as strength and healing thoughts, that this next week goes fast and ends with good news.  I'm also sending a check for my Girl Scout cookies, I promise!

Kicking cancer's ass - day 1292

So.... it's 12:35am.  Do you know where your children are?

Don't worry, this is not going to be another insomniac "I can't sleep" whiny blog post.
(But for the record, I do have insomnia and I can't sleep)

You know what?  I miss my blog.  I HATE the reason for having 1290 days of Kicking Cancer's Ass posts, but I love that I have had this diary....like my own little captive audience, for so long.  Every once in a while, kind of like Facebook's "On This Day" memory pop up, I will go back and read a random post that I'd written.  You know what?  Sometimes I'm freaking brilliant.  I impress myself and think, "Did I really write that?"

Some of it, especially from the beginning, is very difficult to read.  Those were dark, dark days of fear and exhaustion, emotions and sickness.  Some of it is inspiring, like maybe my words and my experiences can help someone who finds themselves in my shoes.  Some of it is funny, some of it is an obnoxious rant against the injustices of my society..... but all of it is heartfelt.  All of it is me.

It makes me sad to go back and see that I went from daily posts in 2013 and 2014, to about half that number last year.  Now I sometimes go weeks without taking the time to open my heart and mind here, and I need to fix that.  It makes me realize that I don't give me enough of my time.  I know there are women who live much, much busier lives than mine:  women with full time jobs, women with demanding careers, women who volunteer everywhere, women with half a dozen kids.  I'm just a wife and mom, working a part-time job, with two kids who are involved in a respectably low number of activities, who volunteers with only one organization.  And yet I seem to have zero time for anything.  Well, I have a little more time now that Hubby and I finished binge-watching all seven seasons of Sons of Anarchy.  But still...

I have a teenager in high school who is learning to drive, who plays the trombone and whose hobby is model railroading.  The first and the last both take up much of Hubby's free (non-softball) time (I may be a better driver but he's a better driving teacher!  And he has more patience for model trains.)  I have a middle school girl who has a more active social life than I ever had, and whose extracurricular activity (softball) takes up most of her and all of my free time.  (Hubby's an excellent coach, but I'm better at handling all of the off-the-field behind-the-scenes things that it takes to run a softball league and keep K's softball team organized.)  When I'm not playing taxi or working on my computer, I try to indulge in my renewed love of reading.

The point I'm trying to make is that it's so easy to take yourself for granted.  Am I the best mother in the world?  Nope.  Am I the best wife in the world?  Not even close.  Am I the best friend in the world?  I wish, but not always.  But that doesn't mean I shouldn't keep trying, daily, to be the best ME there is.  And part of that is to focus on myself.  I don't know.... I guess I look at my blog posts as a way of telling myself "this is important", that my thoughts and feelings are worthy of being expressed, and read, even if only by me.

To acquire wisdom is to love oneself; people who cherish understanding will prosper.

Proverbs 19:8 

I'm only 44 years old.  I hope I still have decades left of life to live, and I don't want to get so caught up in everyday life that I forget to make every day matter.  There are things that happen, things that get said, things that I do - little things, big things, it doesn't matter - that are worth sharing, so that I can go back in a month or a year, and read about them.  Like the post from two years ago where I wrote this:

When I woke K up this morning to get ready for our road trip, she smiled and said she was mad at me because I woke her up from a good dream.  When I asked her what she was dreaming about, she said, "I was just about to buy a unicorn."
That's my girl.

We should all be able to dream about buying a unicorn.

I love those last two words:  Stay strong.  It's not saying everything has to be perfect.  Life will never be perfect, but through it all, you can stay strong.  It's easy to zone in on what's going wrong, because sometimes something going wrong can feel majorly wrong.  My blog is the perfect example.  I started it back in 2011..... way before I knew I had cancer.  And yet it took a cancer diagnosis for me to start writing regularly.  Why?  Because I had a lot of things going wrong to talk about.  But interspersed with the things going wrong posts are the other posts.... ones about feeling happy, or grateful, or amused, or blessed.  Posts about feeling grateful to be alive.

I have a lot of reasons to smile, and I have some very special people in my life who make me laugh.

Lucky, lucky me.

Kicking cancer's ass - day 1273

Survivor's Guilt.

Survivor guilt is a mental condition that occurs when a person perceives themselves to have done wrong by surviving a traumatic event when others did not.

We all know the statistics.  One in eight women will get breast cancer in their lifetime.  My best friend, my best friend's mom, my sister-in-law, my mother-in-law, me..... that's more than one in eight for me.  Scary, huh?  My mother-in-law and my BFF's mom have both passed away.  My BFF, my sis-in-law, me?  We're all doing good.  Alive and well.  What's the difference?  How does fate decide who gets a pass?  

You're probably thinking age is a factor.  And maybe you're partly right.  Someone in their 60s or 70s is not going to be as strong or as healthy as someone half their age, so maybe their body can't fight cancer as well.  But you know what?  Cancer doesn't always discriminate.  Or only pick on the old, frail and weak.

For three years I've belonged to a support group for breast cancer survivors - Ciao Bellas.  My lovely friend D invited me when I was just starting my journey, and I'm forever grateful for the support I've received from these wonderful ladies.  My lovely Bellas were dealt a tough hand this week.  We lost not one but two of our friends.  Lorie was 42 years old.  Vanessa was only 32.  

I never got the chance to meet either of them in person, but I got to know them through other women who did.  Every Bella has been in the same trenches at one time or another.  Some are thriving years after diagnosis.  Some are just beginning their fight.  We all have the same goal - to live.  To know that not one but two young ladies, younger than me, were taken way too soon by the same disease I'm surviving is a big blow.  

I know people die from cancer every day.  It's why the words "you have cancer" are so terrifying.  It may not be the automatic death sentence it used to be, but it can be.  For Lorie, and for Vanessa, it was.  My heart aches for their families... for the people who loved these women.  Vanessa has an eight year old little girl.  Can you imagine?  I look at my daughter, just two years older than that, and my heart freezes in fear.  

I don't think I necessarily have survivor guilt.  It's not a contest.  We are all in it to win.  Nobody loses when someone wins the fight against cancer (except cancer!).  But I won't lie and say I don't ask "why her and not me" when something like this happens.  It could very easily be me.  I know many, many breast cancer survivors.  That is amazing.  And wonderful.  But the fact that there are people connected to me who did not survive is a crushing blow.  And it reignites the fear that is always lurking.

The best way I know to pay tribute to the amazing women who were taken too soon is to embrace my survivorship.  Cherish every day.  Count my blessings.  Take care of myself.  Appreciate life.  Know that each day is a gift. 

And pray for the ones who loved those we've lost.

To Lorie, and to Vanessa.....God bless you, Bellas.

Kicking cancer's ass - day 1267

For the past 17 years, this man has been my friend, my shoulder to cry on, my partner in crime, my rock, my love.

My Valentine.

Happy  Valentine's Day.  I love you forever.

Kicking cancer's ass - day 1266

Tomorrow is Valentine's Day - the day to celebrate love.

I have more reasons than most to celebrate.  Did you know when you Google "breast cancer and marriage", some of the first pages that come up are titled "First comes breast cancer, then comes divorce"?  That's sad. There are a lot of life-changing events that take a toll on marriage:  children, jobs, moving, death, and yes - cancer.

My greatest hope is that every woman facing this dark journey has an amazing support system.  That could be mothers and fathers, sisters and brothers, children or friends.  For me, it was all of those (well, except the sister part), which makes me a lucky lady.  I'm even more lucky that I've been surrounded by, covered with and lifted up by the love of an amazing man.

There is nothing easy or fun about breast cancer.  Bottom line - a cancer diagnosis means you are in a fight for your life.  Even now, three and a half years later, I'm still fighting.  Even though treatments and surgeries are in my rearview mirror (and hopefully will stay there!), I'm still fighting through it.  Chemo, radiation, hormone therapy, more surgeries than you can count on one hand...it all takes a toll.   

The best medicine in the world, for me, is having a husband who doesn't bat an eye at any of it.  I know this hasn't been easy for him.  But through 1264 days of living with a breast cancer diagnosis, he has always made it all about me.  Even though his burden has been just as heavy, he has never once let me feel it.  He has shouldered all of my troubles as well as his own, without complaint, since d-day.

Fifteen and a half years ago, Hubby said those vows to me.  Back then I was young and healthy.  I was the one who teased him about getting older and having to take all kinds of medicine.  Little did we know that a bride ten years his junior would get breast cancer at age 40.  Suddenly HE was the healthy one having to take care of me.  My part of the medicine cabinet rivals his now.  We have an ongoing argument about which one of us is more exhausted, or who is in more pain.  It's a weird bonding thing I guess..... but you know what?  On this, the eve of our 17th Valentine's Day together, after everything we've been through as husband and wife, I'm blessed that we still have the bond that we do.

Having cancer changes a person.  I'm not the same as I was before August 1, 2013.  I hate that for me.  I'm older and wiser, but not so sweet or innocent.  My body is different... and scarred.  I've had to find a strength I didn't think I had.  I've had to find a way to live with fear.  I've had to find a way to love the new me.   Loving someone with cancer changes a person.   I'm not the same person Hubby fell in love with.  I hate that for him.  He didn't ask for this, he didn't sign on for this, and he doesn't deserve it.  But he has never once let on that he feels that way.  He continues to love me better than anyone - day by day, month by month, year by year.  

I am blessed.

Kicking cancer's ass - day 1258

Some random insomniac blogging tidbits....

I don't need a special day to talk about cancer.... I do that every day!  ha ha
But today, February 4, is World Cancer Day.  (www.worldcancerday.org/)

From that web site:

A truly global event taking place every year on 4 February, World Cancer Day unites the world’s population in the fight against cancer.
It aims to save millions of preventable deaths each year by raising awareness and education about the disease, pressing governments and individuals across the world to take action. 

I realize I should have posted about this BEFORE the end of the day, but better late than never.  In my opinion, anything, anything at all these days, that includes uniting the world's population AND a fight against cancer is a spectacular idea.

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I had a long, busy day today.  I was wiped out when I got home at 7:30pm.  WIPED OUT.
It is now 11:42pm.  Wiped out is gone and wide awake took its place.  Sigh.

According to my Fitbit, my sleep average was 4.35 hours/night this week.  Pathetic.  I like sleep.  No, I love sleep! It's not that I don't want to sleep, or I'm too sick, stressed, depressed or anxious to sleep.  I just can't.  I go to bed and I'm wide awake.   I wake up a lot during the night, and not just the toss and turn kind of waking.  I'm talking about get out of bed to go to the bathroom, or go to the kitchen to get a drink and make a detour to check email/facebook/weather kind of waking.  

My friend S says I'm like a baby whose internal clock is backwards.  That's exactly it.  I have my days and nights mixed up.  

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K had a friend spend the night last night.  Her friend's name is the same as K's.  Their last names both start with a B.  It's a little confusing.  And a little amusing to have to use your child's last name in your own house.  They were in the same preschool class years ago.  Now they are in the same fifth grade class.  K's friend K is a sweet, easygoing girl.  I'm pleased as punch.
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Tomorrow is Super Bowl Sunday.  Not only are my Cowboys not in the big game (despite getting my hopes up by kicking ass all season), but the Patriots are in the big game.  Again.  Tom Brady is cute and all, but good God, can't they just go away?

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I have another friend S who never fails to make me smile.  She sent me a FIVE POUND BAG of gummy bears for my birthday.  And not only does she indulge my obsession, but she shares it.  Haribo fans unite!

I miss her every single day.  She was my bring me food when I'm sick friend.  My walking buddy friend.  My help me out at the softball fields at 2am during a tournament friend.  My come over just to hang out and talk friend.  Then she moved.  Far away.  So now she's my late night texting conversations friend.  And my Vegas roommate friend.  I'm very grateful for modern technology that allows me to keep in touch - frequently at all hours - with friends like S.  But man, life is NOT the same without her here.
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Monday my son starts driver's ed.  Say WHAT?  I knew I had a teenager, but driver's ed??  That's for, like, people that can drive!  When did I get old enough to have a kid that drives?  I guess the whole high school thing didn't really sink in yet.

Thanks for keeping me company.  If you see him, send the sandman my way.

Kicking cancer's ass - day 1255

What does my birthday February 2, 1973 mean?
Your birthday numbers 2, 2 and 1973 reveal that your Life Path number is 6. It represents justice, nurturing and responsibility. You possess great compassion and seek to be of service to others.

What else?
This.... all of this.

The realest one you will ever meet....How cool is that?

Even in this day and age of incredible medical advancements and unbelievable technology, I doubt there is a person alive who has heard the words "you have cancer" and didn't immediately think, for one fleeting moment, that they were going to die.  I knew I had cancer the minute I felt the lump.  And I knew it was going to be bad.  It wasn't easy, and it's still an every day fight, and will be for the rest of my life... but I did survive, and I earned the right to wear a crown.  A pink, sparkly one.

"Birthdays have become a symbol. They epitomize opportunity, growth, and life. They represent hope, gratitude, and blessings. Each morning I wake up to see another day… to create new memories… to enjoy my friends and family… to follow my passions… I am blessed. "

(from the blog:  Derailing my Diagnosis)

My good friend K, another cancer survivor, calls our post-diagnosis birthdays "Bonus Birthdays."  When I turned 40, I felt great.  I was in terrific shape, I was busy and happy and in love with life.  When I turned 41, I felt awful.  I was bald, pale, weak, and a month post-op from having my breasts removed.  When I turned 42, I was extremely anemic thanks to treatment and having undergone seven surgeries in less than two years, to the point where I had to revisit the chemo room for iron infusions.  Talk about flashbacks.

Now.... I am 44.  I am busy with work and home, a husband and kids.  I do laundry and pay bills, cook dinner and text my friends.  I finally enjoy reading again and hope to get back out on the golf course this year.  I am a part-time bookkeeper, a full time wife, a proud band parent, my daughter's biggest fan, and an overworked yet underpaid softball league VP.

Celebrating another year of this crazy busy life, for me, is definitely a bonus.  And what's a bonus birthday without cake?  There are so many pretty ones that I would love to appreciate for a second and then dive right in.  But I think this one might just be my favorite:

It's simple.  It's small (so I don't have to share).  It quietly sends a statement in its own beautiful, understated way.  It's truly deserving of a bonus birthday celebration.  I want to savor it.

And while I'm enjoying that pretty little cake, remember this:

Damn straight.

Kicking cancer's ass - day 1247

Words written from the heart  💓

Cancer is a terrible thing.

   One day you and your spouse and kids are living the American dream.  You own a house, cars, a business. You go on vacation; your kids are in sports which keeps you busy all the time. Life is good.

   Your spouse is the nicest, sweetest, most caring person you have ever met.  Anything and everything she does is to make others happy. Some would say she is too sweet and caring. But that is who she is and that is who you fell in love with.

   You will do anything to help someone, but your personality is far different than your spouse's, and people will either like you or not. …there is no in between.

   The kids luckily get their caring, soft hearts from their mother; the oldest (not being from this mother) poor thing takes after his dad in many ways.

   All is normal American family time UNTIL one day your spouse discovers she has cancer. From that day forward nothing will ever be the same. After 2 ½ years and 7 or 8 surgeries, most people think it is over and your spouse is back to “normal”. What people do not realize is for a cancer patient (and their caregiver) nothing will ever be “normal” again. Every little pain, every time you “feel” different, anytime a new spot shows up, you are scared to death.

   The cancer patient will never be normal again because her body and mind have been scarred for life. This person that was once the sweetest, most caring person is not that same person any more… not because she does not want to be, but because this has made her that way. People she knows, friends, colleagues etc. think that everything is back to normal, but it is not and never will be. This cancer person is a bit more rough around the edges, she will no longer go with the flow, she will stand up for herself, she will not let anyone walk over her like before. She used to think and consider things before reacting, but now if there is something she thinks is wrong she will confront right then and there. That is something she would never do before.

   As for the caregiver, they usually go into this thinking only of the cancer patient, which is normal and very understandable. But these people change during this adventure too. I can only speak for the one I know. This caregiver was always easy going and it took a lot to upset him. This person was told to make sure and take time for himself during this whole thing. Well he did not believe or think he needed that. He has since learned that a caregiver needs to take that advice, otherwise it will build up and eat you alive. This once easy going guy let all the anger and hate build up and had no release for it. Still to this day, when it blows he does not hold back. It no longer takes very much to upset this person.

   Please do not think you know anything about how a cancer patient should feel.  Please don’t think, “Ok they have finished everything so they should now be back to normal”. There is no back to normal. There is only one way you will ever know how a cancer patient or caregiver feels, and I pray to God that you never have the opportunity to know.

  This cancer patient is still the greatest, most loving person there is. Knowing all this, either understand her new normal and be her friend or don’t and stop acting.

My Hubby is not a writer, and he is not one to share his feelings, especially with the entire world like this.  He recently sent that to me, and I'm sharing with his permission.

Kicking cancer's ass - day 1245

Insomniac blogging....

Channeling my inner Allyson Hendrickson here.  I don't know if you can consider it insomniac blogging if it's not the middle of the night, so give me a little leeway.  Last night I was fast asleep on the couch before my ten year old daughter went to bed.  (Hint:  she didn't stay up late)   Tonight it's 11pm and I'm wide awake.  There is no rhyme or reason to my sleep pattern (or lack of).  There is also no rhyme or reason to my post tonight... just some random musings about my life lately.

• Speaking of Allyson Hendrickson, I miss her.  I miss having friends like her.  Friends who lifted me up.  Friends who made me laugh.  Friends who loved me and my family unconditionally.  Allyson never once disappointed me, and she was true right down to her bones.  That can't be said about too many people in my life these days.  Even in her darkest days, she found ways to be there for me in MY darkest days.  She cared, and I knew it.
  (No offense to the true people I do still have in my life... you know who you are and you know I love you.)

• Hubby doesn't think his neck surgery worked.  He's been having nerve pain by his shoulder blade the last week or so.  He has his six week follow up with the surgeon Wednesday, so it'll be interesting to hear what Dr. M has to say.  It took a LOT for my hubby to bite the bullet and have surgery, and to think it might not have fixed him?  Ugh.  Living with chronic pain is awful.  Prayers for him would be appreciated.

• Speaking of Hubby.... a few weeks ago he lost his wedding ring.  He doesn't know where.  He doesn't know when.  He just knew one day he looked down and it wasn't on his finger.  It wasn't loose, so it's highly unlikely that it fell off.  It's a mystery.  What's even a bigger mystery is why the cleaning lady at work found it in the trash can!  First of all, WHY was it in the trash can, and how did it get there?  Second, why was she LOOKING in the trash can?  Told you... it's a mystery.  

• I do not like video games.  This is unacceptable to my children, who are obsessed with them.  If not video games, then YouTube videos of other people playing video games.  How is this fun?  My kids will start telling me about the latest game they discovered and my eyes glaze over.  Even worse, they'll try to tell me about someone they follow on YouTube who posted a new video.  Um.  I don't care!  Give me a slot machine to play, or a football game to watch, or a book to read.... then I'll be interested!

• Tomorrow I have to have a chest CT scan.  This isn't cancer-related (I hope!), but it is illness-related.  My chest x-ray before Christmas when I was really sick showed a shadow on my lung.  They said it was suspicious for pneumonia.  After three rounds of antibiotics and a week with Tamiflu, I was still coughing and my chest x-ray still looked the same.  That concerned my doctor enough to order the CT scan.  I haven't had any cancer-related scans since I finished chemo over three years ago.
  If I had never had cancer, I would just be complaining about this stupid cough that won't go away.  Since I did have cancer, my mind immediately pounces on the "shadow on my lung" part and thinks the worst.  I'm thankful that I haven't had to suffer through "scanxiety" in years... but on the other hand, without a technological peek inside my body, who knows what is lurking in there?!?!?!?  Prayers for me at 1pm would be appreciated.  Actually, forget that.  Prayers for me until I get the results from my doctor would be appreciated.  The scan is a piece of cake.  It's the waiting and not knowing that sucks.

  

• Whatever happens with Hubby on Wednesday, I know he will deal with it.  He's the strongest person I know.  I hope there is a logical explanation for his pain and that his symptoms are relieved over time.
  Whatever happens with me tomorrow, I know I will deal with it.  I've been kicking ass for one thousand, two hundred a forty-four days.  I don't often feel strong, but I never lose faith and I never give up.  

Kicking cancer's ass - day 1241

Tomorrow is Inauguration Day.  

I know this election has been tumultuous at best, and many people I know are extremely upset about who won.  I get that.  I GET IT!  But I'm tired of politics being shoved down my throat every time I look at a television, newspaper or especially Facebook.

Getting on my political soapbox for a minute.

The article that this picture is from really bothers me.  (I didn't "share" the post, just a screenshot.)

I don't care which election you talk about or which candidates were running.  There is ALWAYS a winner and there is ALWAYS a loser.  That's a fact.  The person who wins the electoral vote wins the office of President.  For every candidate that comes up short in an election, there is a whole host of supporters who did not get the President they wanted.

End of story.

I don't care who you voted for.  I don't care who you agree with or don't agree with.  I don't care if you are white, black, rich, poor, gay, bisexual or transgender.  If you're my friend, then you're my friend even if you voted for Kermit the Frog.  If I love you, I love you regardless of whether you are a Democrat or Republican.  It's like I tell my kids... you don't have to like everyone, but you do have to get along.

Millions of people voted for and support Donald Trump.  He was voted into office.  Millions of people voted for and support Hillary Clinton.  She was NOT voted into office.

You don't like Donald Trump?  That's your prerogative.  You don't have to like him.  You can turn your tv off so you don't have to listen to him.  You can march in a dozen cities this weekend to protest.  None of that changes the fact that he is the next President of the United States.  If he doesn't have your respect, his job should.

I did not vote for President Obama (the second time).  When he won, I did not make my profile picture black, boycott television or march in a protest because my candidate didn't win.  I did not cry that America was doomed.  I did not wish him harm even though he wasn't my choice.

In 2000, I did not vote for President Bush.  I voted for Al Gore, who won the popular vote but lost the electoral vote, just like Hillary Clinton this year.  I did not protest, riot, cry, or complain.  My candidate did not win, and it stung, but America made its choice.  I did not wish George Bush harm or ridicule him or disrespect him, his family or the office he held.

You know why?  Because I am an American and I love my country.

Things may not have gone your way in November and tomorrow is a disappointing day for those who feel that way.  But the world is not going to stop turning.  The sun will come up.  People will go to work, to school, on vacation.  Some things will change, just as they always do when there is a change in administration.  Some of it is scary.  Hopefully some of it will be better than people expect.  But America is still going to be the greatest country in the world... the land of the free.

There is a picture floating around on Facebook that says wanting Donald Trump to fail as President is like wanting the pilot to crash a plane that we are ALL ON.  

Tonight I will pray for my friends and family who are heartbroken, bitter and angry.  Tomorrow I will pray for Donald Trump and his administration.  I wish him well, because his success guarantees America's success.

God bless America.

Kicking cancer's ass - day 1234

January.  Sigh.
Who really likes January?
I would say I have the winter blues (or to be politically correct, seasonal deficit disorder), but we haven't even really had a winter yet here in Texas.  We had a few really, really cold days, and even some snow flurries one afternoon, but that's it.  Yesterday it was 80 degrees.  Yes, eighty.  I like winter.  Maybe I'd be happier if we'd get some snow!

I'm having a hard time snapping out of this "blah" that has overtaken me lately.  Granted, I've had a rough time of it.  I got sick a week before Christmas - so sick that I had to give up my tickets to a Cowboys game!!  Talk about depressing.  Since Dec 19th I've been on three different antibiotics, and Tamiflu because my sweet little girl had the flu.  Now almost a month later, I don't feel sick anymore, but I still have a cough and overwhelming fatigue.  Tuesday I literally slept all day.  I could not even summon the energy to get off of the couch.

I don't think I'm depressed.  I've been depressed, I know what that feels like.  Not to mention I've been on antidepressants since d-day.  I think being sick and tired for so long is just getting to me.  I finally took my Christmas tree down last night.  Yes, January 11th.  My mailbox still has its Christmas garland on it.  I'll get to it.... one of these days.

My BFF lost her mom right before New Year's.  I've known her since I was twelve, and I probably spent more time at their house during high school than my own.  I flew to NY for the visitation and funeral, which was a mixed blessing.  I hadn't seen BFF in two years and we had a really good visit despite the circumstances.  She has been my bestie for over 30 years, and we can pick up where we left off no matter how long it's been.  But saying a forever goodbye to her mom, such a sweet, GOOD lady, was difficult and emotional.  And six flights, four layovers and two one-hour drives in three days was just exhausting.

Warning:  pity party ahead.
I miss my friends.  Some of the ones I'm closest to have moved away.  That sucks.  Technology allows me to converse with them whenever I want, which is great, but it's not the same as them being here.  Others are still here but circumstances have changed our friendships.  That really sucks.  I try to be a good person.  I try to be a supportive, honest, caring friend, and yet my circle just keeps getting smaller and smaller.  

When you are a cancer patient, you have to be selfish.  100% of your focus has to be on yourself:  taking care of yourself, making yourself stronger.  Maybe cancer has made me too selfish.  I've tried to take a step back and look at the friendships in my life and how they have changed, but I just don't understand it.  I feel like I'm not a priority to many of the people I care about.  S moved away, far away, and yet I talk with her more than anyone.  She makes me laugh and always asks what I need, even though she can't possibly do anything about it.  My other friend S still lives here (and probably always will, thank God), but she's going through her own issues right now.  

Are you the one who calls or texts people out of the blue, just to say hi?  Are you someone who invites a girl to lunch just to catch up?  Are you someone who asks how someone is doing... really doing?  I feel like that's me, and it's all one-sided.  I get it.  Life is busy, especially when you have kids.  I'm busy with my own family.  But I miss having a "girl posse".  I miss being checked up on.  I miss people being happy to be around me.  And it makes me sad to think I may have done something or changed in some way to cause this.

I saw this on Facebook today:

I think lately I've been my own worst enemy.  You know what?  Screw it.  I'm not even going to let ME dull my sparkle.  I adore my husband, I love my kids, and all I can do is be the best me I can be.  I'm going to sparkle the heck out of the rest of January.  Life is too short to be sad.

Kicking cancer's ass - day 1225

Three years ago today I was over 100 days into my "kicking cancer's ass" journey.
It was a big day:  an eight hour bilateral mastectomy surgery that removed any cancer that chemo didn't kill.  It also meant that I would live the rest of my life without my breasts.  Even though I know it was necessary to save my life, it was still a very emotional day.

I had to laugh at some of my observations from that surgery.
This is from my blog post on day 129:

Things I've learned in the hospital:
.. It's not as fun being in the hospital when you're not having a baby. The only other times I've had a hospital stay were when I had my kids. Getting to hold a cute little newborn makes up for feeling pain and discomfort!
.. I do not like peas. I definitely don't like peas in chicken noodle soup! The food here is decent, but really... who puts peas in chicken noodle soup?
.. I have got to get me some of these inflatable leg pump things. They would go a LONG way toward helping my restless legs syndrome!! I love them. Think anyone would notice if they disappeared into my suitcase?
.. I hate hospital gowns. I was a thousand times happier once I got cleaned up and into my own pjs.
.. Having a mastectomy makes you feel like you bench pressed 500 pounds. Not that I know what that feels like exactly, but i imagine it's a similar feeling.
.. My hubby is an excellent caretaker. He has been phenomenal... right there to help me up or hand me my chap stick or get me a drink. I bet he's probably almost as exhausted as I am. I love him.
.. Sonic sweet tea is YUM, especially when you're extremely thirsty.
.. Nurses are very concerned with their patient's bathroom production.
.. Oral pain meds are not nearly as effective as the morphine pump.
.. Something about surgery made my hands swell and I haven't been able to put my wedding rings back on. This bothers me.
.. I thought I would be sad when I saw my incisions for the first time. I wasn't. I think of them as battle scars, and wear them proudly since I am kicking cancer's ass!!
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In these last three years I have gone through numerous "reconstruction" surgeries.  I find that word interesting.  Reconstruction has been a mixed blessing for me.  I don't regret any of it, even though most of it was HARD! I like looking like a normal woman in clothes.  I love that my doctor used my own tissue for reconstruction....no hard, cold implants to worry about.  But it's all an illusion.  I have very little feeling from my collarbone to my rib cage, all the way around under my left arm.  And I have scars..... so many scars.

However....

Cancer tries to hurt you.  Over and over.  It's the gift that keeps on giving.  But I'm here today, 1224 days later, strong and healthy.  I was stronger than cancer.

It's a new year, and while I don't make resolutions, I did read this tonight and loved it.  It's advice I need to follow.... all of it.  Here's hoping 2017 is another year that cancer leaves me alone!