Jarmie shopping ... the last time this was needed was when Jordan was born. Back then I don't even think I did it. I've always gotten my PJ's as a gift. Even though Hil has already sorted this out for me (to look decent in the hospital), I wanted to also mozzie around the shops to have a look-see. I think it is excusable that it took me ages to decide between the negligee or boxers. I'm not the best shopper around, I only really enjoy shopping when I go on holiday. Then it is "shmutter" shopping - you know, like buying thousands of those "Eiffel Tower lighters" that everyone needs and would simply love (to hide).
Next up will be bra and costume shopping, as well as head gear shopping. This can wait though, as I really don't know what size cup I am going to be. Besides, the doctor said that they will be giving me a bra after the op. I hope it is not going to be one of those embarrassing "training-bra" type looks that all young girls have to wear in their coming of sprouting age. Not that I will be "sprouting" of course. Beggars can't be choosers I suppose.
So far so good. I am still feeling rather calm about the whole jol. It has taken so long that it already feels like "old news". Let's hope I still feel that way on Tuesday. It is confirmed that I need to be at the hospital by 11h00 and my op is scheduled for 13h30. Everything is covered by the Medical Aid. I am extremely grateful for this as there was a chance they wouldn't pay for the left boob reduction. I can't see why they would see this as cosmetic though - surely it would have a mental effect on any woman to have one big and one small boobie. Psychological scars make you sick and then you are just going to spend more money on the Medical Aid - so that must be why they are paying everything. Phew for that.
Beautiful day here in Cape Town - but I am buggered, so am going to have meself a wee arvie nap and tomorrow I will enjoy the sunshine. (.)(.)
Saturday, October 31, 2009
Friday, October 30, 2009
Day 17 - 30 October 2009
It has just occurred to me that not only am I going to lose my hair on my head, but also my legs, arms, underarms and ... the nether region. I can't say I am unhappy about this - it sure does help with the summer waxing schlep. I'm also going to save a few bob on shampoo, conditioner, hair gel, lacker :-), bobby-hairclips, alice-bands, scrunchies, curlers, hair nets, shower caps, tongs, hairdressers, beauticians, razors, wax ... not to mention the break I will have from the daily plucking routine.
My hairdressing sister Colleen also tells me that she has clients going through chemo, and noticed that their skin looks amazing. As weird as it sounds, there is also a demand for "wig-styling" - but I am sure that only happens in Australia!! A real bugger if you stuff that one up hey Col - lol. My bosom buddy confirmed that the skin thing is true. She has been asked by many what products she is using to have such great skin ... "um, well ... chemo works wonders!" I may even lose a bit of weight too with all the purging. So out of the shit blossoms a flower. I'm going to be one regular chick-magnet after this lot. It's just the "during" I have to get through.
Yesterday, I went for my last haircut (in a while). I'm going to miss that shampooist and the lovely head massages she gives - I nearly fell asleep. The next will be the big shave - but I am sure Hil can do that ... or maybe not actually. Scars together with dents and overlaps ... I don't think so. As I was sitting at the hairdressers, I thought to myself that this was supposed to be the appointment where I do highlights - I felt like doing the slight blonde-streaked-look for summer (to hide a few grey hairs that are rebelliously popping up). So another savings, I guess!!
Well I have been feeling a little cabin-fevered this week. The main "Family outing" being my doctors visits on Monday. Oh no, I am wrong - we had a girls poker night on Tuesday. I think we laugh, eat, skinner and joke more than play cards though. But that feels like it was ages ago already. So am off to my last (for a while) Writer's Circle meeting at the lovely Marlisa's house. I can't wait to catch up on the scoop that side of the mountain. One gets tired of talking and thinking cancer!!
I believe this is one of the worst parts of chemo. Too sick to sleep, too sick to do anything else other than think. I am going to do everything in my power to remain diligent before, during and after chemo. I need to learn all the ways to keep my blood count at its best and my immune system up, to alleviate the nausea. I even have all the reading material I need for hospital. This might even be the motivator I've been looking for to give up smoking. I did try on my 1 year milestone of sobriety to give up ... but it lasted a mere 3 hours. I don't think my life is in any danger with the type of cancer I have, but I certainly don't want any form of relapse. I'm sure cancer is a bit like SARS, you have to do everything you can to keep them away from your front door once you are in the clear.
On that note, best I go and pour myself a glass of Mangosteen Fruit Juice (full of anti-oxidants) for breakfast, the pancakes and syrup will have to wait. (.)(.)
My hairdressing sister Colleen also tells me that she has clients going through chemo, and noticed that their skin looks amazing. As weird as it sounds, there is also a demand for "wig-styling" - but I am sure that only happens in Australia!! A real bugger if you stuff that one up hey Col - lol. My bosom buddy confirmed that the skin thing is true. She has been asked by many what products she is using to have such great skin ... "um, well ... chemo works wonders!" I may even lose a bit of weight too with all the purging. So out of the shit blossoms a flower. I'm going to be one regular chick-magnet after this lot. It's just the "during" I have to get through.
Yesterday, I went for my last haircut (in a while). I'm going to miss that shampooist and the lovely head massages she gives - I nearly fell asleep. The next will be the big shave - but I am sure Hil can do that ... or maybe not actually. Scars together with dents and overlaps ... I don't think so. As I was sitting at the hairdressers, I thought to myself that this was supposed to be the appointment where I do highlights - I felt like doing the slight blonde-streaked-look for summer (to hide a few grey hairs that are rebelliously popping up). So another savings, I guess!!
Well I have been feeling a little cabin-fevered this week. The main "Family outing" being my doctors visits on Monday. Oh no, I am wrong - we had a girls poker night on Tuesday. I think we laugh, eat, skinner and joke more than play cards though. But that feels like it was ages ago already. So am off to my last (for a while) Writer's Circle meeting at the lovely Marlisa's house. I can't wait to catch up on the scoop that side of the mountain. One gets tired of talking and thinking cancer!!
I believe this is one of the worst parts of chemo. Too sick to sleep, too sick to do anything else other than think. I am going to do everything in my power to remain diligent before, during and after chemo. I need to learn all the ways to keep my blood count at its best and my immune system up, to alleviate the nausea. I even have all the reading material I need for hospital. This might even be the motivator I've been looking for to give up smoking. I did try on my 1 year milestone of sobriety to give up ... but it lasted a mere 3 hours. I don't think my life is in any danger with the type of cancer I have, but I certainly don't want any form of relapse. I'm sure cancer is a bit like SARS, you have to do everything you can to keep them away from your front door once you are in the clear.
On that note, best I go and pour myself a glass of Mangosteen Fruit Juice (full of anti-oxidants) for breakfast, the pancakes and syrup will have to wait. (.)(.)
Thursday, October 29, 2009
Day 16 - 29 October 2009
I think it is safe to say that the young lady I connected with in PE, you know the one who was diagnosed with breast cancer last year, has become my "bosom buddy". You know like in recovery we have a sponsor/buddy, well this is how I see her. Although she is much younger, she has become a source of strength to me. She is very wise and we can talk for hours. It also helps that she sounds hip with a husky French accent. And the best of it all is she is a cancer survivor. That's right, in a short 6 months she had done everything - op, chemo and radiotherapy, before her hair started growing back - so there is definitely hope. Not that I ever doubted it, but hope that it won't be such a long process after all. Even though one has to go for quarterly check-ups and take medication for 5 years. A constant shadow over my shoulder. But, the worst part of everything may be over in 6 months. Maybe this shadow over my shoulder will become a constant reminder to stay healthy, eat wisely, exercise, etc. Who knows, I might even become that pain-in-the-arse friend when I start with my "nutritional advising". So watch out girlfriends, here comes Jamie Oliver.
Everything seems to be cracking up around us ... first it was the dishwasher, then the toaster, then the kettle, iron, microwave plugs - not to mention all the PC's playing up. Hil also includes me in this list :-). There must be something wrong with the electricity surges in our home. But, my point in mentioning this is it all seems so trivial, regardless of the inconvenience, because it is replaceable. Normally, I would get a real "bad attitude" about small things like this, because the inconvenience of it all would take me away from more important stuff ... like work ... so maybe it is not such a bad thing that I have to slack off on the work side - I get to ponder more important stuff in life - like being creative (while Hil replaces the appliances - hehe). I wonder why work is so important to me, it is not like I have to define myself by it!!
Maybe the electricity surges are reserved for me from up above. With the risk of sounding "religious", I honestly feel the strength I am getting from up above to face this whole episode. I am not so anxious anymore, sure I am a little afraid, but not anxious. If I think of what it is I am a little afraid of - well, first it is the needles they need to put in for anesthetic - it should be the least of my problems, but it does get me, those dam things. Then it is waking up to pain and the "real" news of whether it has spread or not. I am not sure how I am going to react if it is not good news. God is just going to have to send me an extra bolt of lightening strength. I am most scared of my chemo days. The needles of course, but I also believe it can last for anything up to 4-6 hours (mostly spent on pumping all the potions to counteract the side effects). I hear that the actual chemo is very cold going into the body. Then there are the after-effects to face. I am not so scared of radiotheraphy, this is really just a strong beam of light that will only be uncomfortable towards the end with a sunburn effect (I am told).
I have never looked forward to my birthday as much as I am looking forward to it now - It's in June - it will all be over by then. (.)(.)
Everything seems to be cracking up around us ... first it was the dishwasher, then the toaster, then the kettle, iron, microwave plugs - not to mention all the PC's playing up. Hil also includes me in this list :-). There must be something wrong with the electricity surges in our home. But, my point in mentioning this is it all seems so trivial, regardless of the inconvenience, because it is replaceable. Normally, I would get a real "bad attitude" about small things like this, because the inconvenience of it all would take me away from more important stuff ... like work ... so maybe it is not such a bad thing that I have to slack off on the work side - I get to ponder more important stuff in life - like being creative (while Hil replaces the appliances - hehe). I wonder why work is so important to me, it is not like I have to define myself by it!!
Maybe the electricity surges are reserved for me from up above. With the risk of sounding "religious", I honestly feel the strength I am getting from up above to face this whole episode. I am not so anxious anymore, sure I am a little afraid, but not anxious. If I think of what it is I am a little afraid of - well, first it is the needles they need to put in for anesthetic - it should be the least of my problems, but it does get me, those dam things. Then it is waking up to pain and the "real" news of whether it has spread or not. I am not sure how I am going to react if it is not good news. God is just going to have to send me an extra bolt of lightening strength. I am most scared of my chemo days. The needles of course, but I also believe it can last for anything up to 4-6 hours (mostly spent on pumping all the potions to counteract the side effects). I hear that the actual chemo is very cold going into the body. Then there are the after-effects to face. I am not so scared of radiotheraphy, this is really just a strong beam of light that will only be uncomfortable towards the end with a sunburn effect (I am told).
I have never looked forward to my birthday as much as I am looking forward to it now - It's in June - it will all be over by then. (.)(.)
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Day 15 - 28 October 2009
It has taken me an hour from the time I woke up to writing my first word ... rebooting, making tea, rebooting, reading emails, rebooting ... then sitting with a big exclamation mark !!! in my head. You know the normal "duh" thoughts of a sleepy head. I certainly do feel more relaxed now that I have direction, and because of it I am sleeping much better.
In our house, sleep deprivation, interruption or insomnia doesn't usually come in the form of stress and worry, it generally comes in the form of "Daphne" my 17 year old nocturnal delight. She has frequent eating needs and gets lonely at night. I love her to bits and we have a very special bond - infact she only loves me - as much as that sounds a little self-important, I mean it in the most humble way. I think it is because we really bond in the quiet moments of my late nighters. I'm sure she believes I am staying up especially for her undivided attention and entertainment. But I love it too, those special moments you know. The fact that I feed her might also have something to do with it though.
Even when I used to go to Jhb, our friend's cat always used to make a bee-line for me ... want to sleep with me, rub against me, watch TV with me, want me to feed her ... I don't know what it is actually - cats dig me!! So it is hard for me to get angry with Daphne, even when she is the source of major discomfort in the sleep department. Besides the fact that cats don't respond to "Shut the F@#$ Up Man!!!" when they purposefully pounce playfully on the wooden floors at ungodly hours of the morning. Daphne is just delighted to get a response. So yes, I am sleeping well and am not even hearing Daphne at night.
I don't know if it is my imagination, but my underarms have been aching ... ever since they told me that they were going to check and probably remove the nodes under my arms. This is probably going to cause the most discomfort of the whole op. It is in such an awkward part on my body. Does this mean I have to walk with my arms up ... like I am in a constant "wave" stance. Hmmm ... won't quite go with the pained look I am likely to have on my face - you know the one where it looks like you have a really bad smell under your nose.
When I think of the timing of this hiccup, it actually couldn't have come at a better time. I would definitely not have been ready for it 15 months ago. Back then, it would have just been another reason to piss it up in self-pity. Being the end of the year also has its timing benefits - work is never that pressurized this time of year with everyone already planning holidays and Christmas. It generally annoys me, but right now I am blessed by it. Then there is the Medical Aid - I get to use up the rest of this year's funds and in a short 2 months there is a whole lot of new funds available. So one doesn't have to look hard to find the small blessings in life. (.)(.)
In our house, sleep deprivation, interruption or insomnia doesn't usually come in the form of stress and worry, it generally comes in the form of "Daphne" my 17 year old nocturnal delight. She has frequent eating needs and gets lonely at night. I love her to bits and we have a very special bond - infact she only loves me - as much as that sounds a little self-important, I mean it in the most humble way. I think it is because we really bond in the quiet moments of my late nighters. I'm sure she believes I am staying up especially for her undivided attention and entertainment. But I love it too, those special moments you know. The fact that I feed her might also have something to do with it though.
Even when I used to go to Jhb, our friend's cat always used to make a bee-line for me ... want to sleep with me, rub against me, watch TV with me, want me to feed her ... I don't know what it is actually - cats dig me!! So it is hard for me to get angry with Daphne, even when she is the source of major discomfort in the sleep department. Besides the fact that cats don't respond to "Shut the F@#$ Up Man!!!" when they purposefully pounce playfully on the wooden floors at ungodly hours of the morning. Daphne is just delighted to get a response. So yes, I am sleeping well and am not even hearing Daphne at night.
I don't know if it is my imagination, but my underarms have been aching ... ever since they told me that they were going to check and probably remove the nodes under my arms. This is probably going to cause the most discomfort of the whole op. It is in such an awkward part on my body. Does this mean I have to walk with my arms up ... like I am in a constant "wave" stance. Hmmm ... won't quite go with the pained look I am likely to have on my face - you know the one where it looks like you have a really bad smell under your nose.
When I think of the timing of this hiccup, it actually couldn't have come at a better time. I would definitely not have been ready for it 15 months ago. Back then, it would have just been another reason to piss it up in self-pity. Being the end of the year also has its timing benefits - work is never that pressurized this time of year with everyone already planning holidays and Christmas. It generally annoys me, but right now I am blessed by it. Then there is the Medical Aid - I get to use up the rest of this year's funds and in a short 2 months there is a whole lot of new funds available. So one doesn't have to look hard to find the small blessings in life. (.)(.)
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
Day 14 - 27 October 2009
Yesterday I finally got clarity. Direction at last. Even though the operation will only be next Tuesday, I feel relieved just with the fact that I know exactly what is going to happen and when.
I had 2 doctor appointments yesterday. The first at 09h30 with the Plastic Surgeon - who is thankfully a woman and knows how to take charge. Then the 14h45 appointment was with both surgeons, so that my PS (plastic surgeon) had the platform TO take charge and see what my survival rate is to go the route she wants to go.
My PS took one look at my breasts and told me straight-up that she couldn't match them 100%. She could try her best, but when I get old ... or fat ... I am going to have one hanging and one perky - no matter how much she tries to lift the left one. She couldn't understand why I have not considered the lumpectomy route as I have enough breast to work with. Now, I'm not sure if I have been misconstruing the information I get from the doctor, but in my mind (and Hil's) it felt like mastectomy was the way to go with a much higher survival rate. Somewhere along the way I heard a 3% return (mastectomy) vs 20% return (lumpectomy). But perhaps I imagined it, because it is not true. I have the same survival rate whichever way I go and it was confirmed at this last meeting.
My mind has been all over the place although also fixed only on one result (survival). I could have thought the doctor said anything just by a change of tone when he mentioned either word. So I am not going to get into any blame shifting here because I am very pleased that I get to keep both my breasts. So it makes things easier for me to imagine I am just going in for a breast reduction and there will be less risk of infection having my own (with no foreign objects in me). God knows that I need to save my immune system for when it is time to face the chemo and not waste it on false boobs. The only difference is I have to now go for radiotherapy on top of chemo for 6 weeks every day - I think that is what I heard. But, I get to keep my boobs - so it is all good. And Jordan is very happy too.
So yesterday I was talking about 13 being lucky for some. You would not believe it, when the PS measured my boob she said 13 ... (probably cm's not inches). Hil and I looked at each other
in disbelief. Not because of the massive size of my breast, but because of my observation of 13. So my "ten ton tessie tassle tossers" saved themselves from having to be cut off. Lucky for some hey ...
It is amazing when I am in a highly emotional state, as I am now, how I might miss some things, (like what the doctor says - but this is only because it is all foreign to me ... you know, those big words) ... but on the other side, how very alert I am in noticing all the synchronicity happening in my life - the number 13 being just one "small" example. I am pleased about this as it opens me up to having something to be grateful for.
It feels like I have surrendered to my fate and accepted it. I believe it is so much easier for God to work with me when I am like this. Many doors have opened for both Hil and I to help with this journey - we are meeting people "by complete coincidence" (although I don't believe in coincidence) who are taking the weight off our shoulders on the work front. It is season time in Cape Town and we are more than ready for it - but with this hiccup we were wondering how to handle it - then along comes someone to make sure we don't miss out on this year's season. Also, some of my tracking studies on the other company are being postponed until next year. Then there are all the people that are coming out of the wood works - even my ex-brother-in-law phoned me last night. It was nice to chat to him and catch up.
So I have a whole week to get my ducks in a row. Get the work sorted for the days I am away, go dancing, shopping, swimming, scootering, beach walking and oh ... did I mention not going anywhere near anything that closely resembles a clinic, hospital or doctors room!! (.)(.)
I had 2 doctor appointments yesterday. The first at 09h30 with the Plastic Surgeon - who is thankfully a woman and knows how to take charge. Then the 14h45 appointment was with both surgeons, so that my PS (plastic surgeon) had the platform TO take charge and see what my survival rate is to go the route she wants to go.
My PS took one look at my breasts and told me straight-up that she couldn't match them 100%. She could try her best, but when I get old ... or fat ... I am going to have one hanging and one perky - no matter how much she tries to lift the left one. She couldn't understand why I have not considered the lumpectomy route as I have enough breast to work with. Now, I'm not sure if I have been misconstruing the information I get from the doctor, but in my mind (and Hil's) it felt like mastectomy was the way to go with a much higher survival rate. Somewhere along the way I heard a 3% return (mastectomy) vs 20% return (lumpectomy). But perhaps I imagined it, because it is not true. I have the same survival rate whichever way I go and it was confirmed at this last meeting.
My mind has been all over the place although also fixed only on one result (survival). I could have thought the doctor said anything just by a change of tone when he mentioned either word. So I am not going to get into any blame shifting here because I am very pleased that I get to keep both my breasts. So it makes things easier for me to imagine I am just going in for a breast reduction and there will be less risk of infection having my own (with no foreign objects in me). God knows that I need to save my immune system for when it is time to face the chemo and not waste it on false boobs. The only difference is I have to now go for radiotherapy on top of chemo for 6 weeks every day - I think that is what I heard. But, I get to keep my boobs - so it is all good. And Jordan is very happy too.
So yesterday I was talking about 13 being lucky for some. You would not believe it, when the PS measured my boob she said 13 ... (probably cm's not inches). Hil and I looked at each other
in disbelief. Not because of the massive size of my breast, but because of my observation of 13. So my "ten ton tessie tassle tossers" saved themselves from having to be cut off. Lucky for some hey ...
It is amazing when I am in a highly emotional state, as I am now, how I might miss some things, (like what the doctor says - but this is only because it is all foreign to me ... you know, those big words) ... but on the other side, how very alert I am in noticing all the synchronicity happening in my life - the number 13 being just one "small" example. I am pleased about this as it opens me up to having something to be grateful for.
It feels like I have surrendered to my fate and accepted it. I believe it is so much easier for God to work with me when I am like this. Many doors have opened for both Hil and I to help with this journey - we are meeting people "by complete coincidence" (although I don't believe in coincidence) who are taking the weight off our shoulders on the work front. It is season time in Cape Town and we are more than ready for it - but with this hiccup we were wondering how to handle it - then along comes someone to make sure we don't miss out on this year's season. Also, some of my tracking studies on the other company are being postponed until next year. Then there are all the people that are coming out of the wood works - even my ex-brother-in-law phoned me last night. It was nice to chat to him and catch up.
So I have a whole week to get my ducks in a row. Get the work sorted for the days I am away, go dancing, shopping, swimming, scootering, beach walking and oh ... did I mention not going anywhere near anything that closely resembles a clinic, hospital or doctors room!! (.)(.)
Monday, October 26, 2009
Day 13 - 26 October 2009
Day 13 ... the day I will finally get to know my fate of when, where, how long, etc in more concrete detail - let's hope. It was actually on the 13th that my diagnosis was confirmed too. I am not superstitious or anything, it is just simply an observation. Besides, number 13 has always been lucky for me ... you know that saying ... "lucky for some".
It's amazing how news like having breast cancer really brings people out of the wood works. My OBF (old best friend) Gez actually sms'd me last night from ... I dunno where she is actually ... I think England, Ireland or even Afghanistan for all I know. Maybe this is God's way of making me deal with Step 9 of my recovery programme ... making amends ... did he not notice that I am only on Step 4? It was a wonderful surprise though and meant a lot to me that she wished me strength.
I also spoke to my Councilor from Rehab last night, to get his advice on my "morphine" thoughts and dilemma. It has been bugging me that I want the strongest drugs possible in hospital - I want as little pain as possible and can already picture myself making friends with all the nurses so that it won't be awkward when I say "give me more drugs please". But more than anything else in this whole world, if there is one thing I am committed to, it's my recovery. The good news is that my councilor will orchestrate an intervention for me after the ordeal if there is no alternative drugs for me to use. Where's those nurses ....
Well it certainly is bed weather here in Cape Town - rain, hail, thunder and lightening - we hardly ever get thunder and lightening this side of town, so the dogs are all hyperventilating and barking up at the sky.
I've been feeling a little agitated over the weekend, pacing up and down a bit. I think being impatient and always wanting things to happen now and in my time, you know that "instant gratification" trait ... is getting the better of me. I just want it to be this time next year already. I am not enjoying things being drawn out in this process. It gives me too much time to think.
I read somewhere yesterday that "it is foolish to fear what we cannot avoid". I am not sure if I fully agree with that statement. Sometimes fear can work for you if you use it properly. It got me to write this blog didn't it? (.)(.)
It's amazing how news like having breast cancer really brings people out of the wood works. My OBF (old best friend) Gez actually sms'd me last night from ... I dunno where she is actually ... I think England, Ireland or even Afghanistan for all I know. Maybe this is God's way of making me deal with Step 9 of my recovery programme ... making amends ... did he not notice that I am only on Step 4? It was a wonderful surprise though and meant a lot to me that she wished me strength.
I also spoke to my Councilor from Rehab last night, to get his advice on my "morphine" thoughts and dilemma. It has been bugging me that I want the strongest drugs possible in hospital - I want as little pain as possible and can already picture myself making friends with all the nurses so that it won't be awkward when I say "give me more drugs please". But more than anything else in this whole world, if there is one thing I am committed to, it's my recovery. The good news is that my councilor will orchestrate an intervention for me after the ordeal if there is no alternative drugs for me to use. Where's those nurses ....
Well it certainly is bed weather here in Cape Town - rain, hail, thunder and lightening - we hardly ever get thunder and lightening this side of town, so the dogs are all hyperventilating and barking up at the sky.
I've been feeling a little agitated over the weekend, pacing up and down a bit. I think being impatient and always wanting things to happen now and in my time, you know that "instant gratification" trait ... is getting the better of me. I just want it to be this time next year already. I am not enjoying things being drawn out in this process. It gives me too much time to think.
I read somewhere yesterday that "it is foolish to fear what we cannot avoid". I am not sure if I fully agree with that statement. Sometimes fear can work for you if you use it properly. It got me to write this blog didn't it? (.)(.)
Saturday, October 24, 2009
Day 11 - 24 October 2009
I bumped into a guy at the shops yesterday whose wife used to work for me many years ago. It amused me actually, the way he said in an almost whisper sing-song voice "Laurie, how are yooooooou" his eyes darting down to my breasts. I refrained from looking down at his crotch as I abruptly said "I'm absolutely fine thank you and how are you" with a confused frown on my face thinking, how did someone like him find out so fast. News sure does get around rather quickly. It is the silent stares of condolence that gets me though. I know it is all out of concern for me, but it also shows me how scary the Big C word is to people. This is why I have decided to do my bit in terms of giving back by giving people an opportunity to get informed, if they want to and/or allow others to be educated on the subject. So yesterday I played around with my blog and put a link up for a charity (who educates people about breast cancer) to receive money from a sponsor every time someone clicks on the icon. So be sure to pop in to SocialVibe for a visit ok - it costs you nothing. I sure feel fortunate to be living in this day and age of technological advancement. It's the teenagers that worry me about this day and age, and I am going to have one in a short 4 years.
I also have a lot of people who have taken my "hug" request quite seriously. Don't get me wrong, I am loving all the support and hugs that I get, but when some of those hugs are a little too tight and long I am tempted to playfully say "If you don't let me go soon I am going to mistake this for foreplay and be compelled to kiss you". LOL. I might even get away with it because ... I am sick you know..
Apart from being totally demotivated to do anything that resembles work or effort, I would say I am holding up quite well. I have connected with a young lady in P.E. who was diagnosed with breast cancer last year. She has really helped me a lot by allowing me to ask a whole bunch of personal questions. She too is a mother of 2 younglings and it is refreshing to hear how she involved them, and they are fine with it.
Sundays I try and avoid the office and PC as much as I can. I tend to get stuck here if I come to the office. With the balanced lifestyle I am now enjoying, I reserve my Sundays for my family, so I will not be making any posts on Sundays. (.)(.)
I also have a lot of people who have taken my "hug" request quite seriously. Don't get me wrong, I am loving all the support and hugs that I get, but when some of those hugs are a little too tight and long I am tempted to playfully say "If you don't let me go soon I am going to mistake this for foreplay and be compelled to kiss you". LOL. I might even get away with it because ... I am sick you know..
Apart from being totally demotivated to do anything that resembles work or effort, I would say I am holding up quite well. I have connected with a young lady in P.E. who was diagnosed with breast cancer last year. She has really helped me a lot by allowing me to ask a whole bunch of personal questions. She too is a mother of 2 younglings and it is refreshing to hear how she involved them, and they are fine with it.
Sundays I try and avoid the office and PC as much as I can. I tend to get stuck here if I come to the office. With the balanced lifestyle I am now enjoying, I reserve my Sundays for my family, so I will not be making any posts on Sundays. (.)(.)
Friday, October 23, 2009
Day 10 - 23 October 2009
My PC is on a real "go slow" these last few days - very frustrating. I'm not hinting or anything for my laptop to come quicker b.t.w. :-)
Yesterday it was hard to hear that one of the mothers from our school had lost her battle with cancer and died early hours of the morning. Only then did it occur to me that she had died exactly the same hour and day as my first girlfriend did 21 years ago. It's a no wonder I've been feeling extra sad. I always am this time of the year. I remember watching this mother's little girl at the concert singing on Wednesday night and thinking "I wonder how your mommy's doing" as we have often prayed for her during assembly. It was a rhetorical question though and I didn't expect an answer, let alone so soon. It is this little girl that I feel for the most as she was so very close to her mommy, although I was happy to see at our school market on Saturday that she is just as close to her dad who clearly adores her.
Even though I have personally known many who have died from cancer, I also have my role-models who have survived it and who I know personally. I also don't think it is "negative thinking" to consider my own mortality. It's reality. I am grateful however that the logistics of such a fate was sorted out when Jordan was born, so I don't have to be worrying about those kind of details while trying to stay focused on the real issue at hand.
I'm not really that scared of dying, I have my own comforting thoughts and beliefs on what happens on the other side. And I hate to be the bearer of this bad news peeps, but there is one guarantee in life - we are all going to die. I just don't want to go via a sickness. I would rather go in a more grandiose way where I am on the front page of the newspaper and it was quick, painless and I didn't see it coming. So even though I don't think that this is my time to go, it does put things in perspective about living.
I wonder what the whole deal is with those words "lost the battle with". It sounds awful actually. To think of a whole battle coming - within my own body. But if these be the words that are understood, then ... I am a fighter. Always have been, always will be.
I didn't get caught without a helmet on my scooter ride, and I didn't have an afternoon nap yesterday - but both were exhausting, so I ended up going to bed at 7.30pm. I would have gone at 5pm if I could have. It was lekker. I can't believe it is Friday already - this week seems to have flown past. Well the one good thing is that today I am 15 months clean and am grateful that those birds I hear at 5am announcing it is officially summer are no longer a luss because of a hangover. These days, I love to wake up before the birds and listen to them wake up. (.)(.)
Yesterday it was hard to hear that one of the mothers from our school had lost her battle with cancer and died early hours of the morning. Only then did it occur to me that she had died exactly the same hour and day as my first girlfriend did 21 years ago. It's a no wonder I've been feeling extra sad. I always am this time of the year. I remember watching this mother's little girl at the concert singing on Wednesday night and thinking "I wonder how your mommy's doing" as we have often prayed for her during assembly. It was a rhetorical question though and I didn't expect an answer, let alone so soon. It is this little girl that I feel for the most as she was so very close to her mommy, although I was happy to see at our school market on Saturday that she is just as close to her dad who clearly adores her.
Even though I have personally known many who have died from cancer, I also have my role-models who have survived it and who I know personally. I also don't think it is "negative thinking" to consider my own mortality. It's reality. I am grateful however that the logistics of such a fate was sorted out when Jordan was born, so I don't have to be worrying about those kind of details while trying to stay focused on the real issue at hand.
I'm not really that scared of dying, I have my own comforting thoughts and beliefs on what happens on the other side. And I hate to be the bearer of this bad news peeps, but there is one guarantee in life - we are all going to die. I just don't want to go via a sickness. I would rather go in a more grandiose way where I am on the front page of the newspaper and it was quick, painless and I didn't see it coming. So even though I don't think that this is my time to go, it does put things in perspective about living.
I wonder what the whole deal is with those words "lost the battle with". It sounds awful actually. To think of a whole battle coming - within my own body. But if these be the words that are understood, then ... I am a fighter. Always have been, always will be.
I didn't get caught without a helmet on my scooter ride, and I didn't have an afternoon nap yesterday - but both were exhausting, so I ended up going to bed at 7.30pm. I would have gone at 5pm if I could have. It was lekker. I can't believe it is Friday already - this week seems to have flown past. Well the one good thing is that today I am 15 months clean and am grateful that those birds I hear at 5am announcing it is officially summer are no longer a luss because of a hangover. These days, I love to wake up before the birds and listen to them wake up. (.)(.)
Thursday, October 22, 2009
Day 9 - 22 October 2009
The day didn't start too well. I burnt Jordan's bacon and tried to pass it off as "crispy". I thought I had pulled it off until I saw 2 very happy little dogs coming from his room licking their lips. Yep guys ... I cook!!! I just had to add that because I can almost hear the gasps already. But ... when I find myself wanting to shout at my PC for persisting with this intermittent internet access - you know the kind of shouting that goes like this: "Aah come on man ... FFS ... don't you know I have cancer!!" then I know I am reaching that self-pity stage.
I have many little practices I indulge in to try and get myself out of any dark hole. Simple practices like inspirational reading, deep contemplation, writing, talking to my sponsor, a trusted friend or God, the list goes on. None of them ever seem to work at the time, but they must plant a seed somewhere along the way until I eventually find that A-HA moment of whatever it is that might get me out of this dark mood. Believe it or not, my A-HA moment this time was simply lack of exercise.
For the last year I have been walking to the gym 4 days a week, but on hearing my news, I simply stopped. Even though I have learnt to enjoy my exercise routine, it was mainly the quiet time of the walk and the feel-good effect one gets after gym that kept me doing it daily. It was not the gym itself that I enjoyed. Who honestly does enjoy gym? Maybe the odd queen, who is looking for an easy flirt, or the narcissistic muscle-man who only has eyes for himself. They are the funniest to watch as their eyes are so fixed on their muscles that they don't even acknowledge the farts that loudly escape on weight exertion ... very appealing. We get all embarrassed and pretend we didn't notice, but they don't actually give a shit - now that is narcissism!! As for me, I deliberately choose a time that I hope I am not going to be seen by anyone I know, because it aint a pretty sight seeing me at gym. All sweaty and red faced with a birds-nest hairstyle. I was a little nervous to go back to gym because there is quite a bit in my routine that includes the breast. At one stage, I even thought maybe this sparked the whole thing off, but I know that this is an easy excuse. It is my excuse though and I am sticking to it ... for now!!
Finding out your A-HA moment is one thing, getting back into the routine is another. I have decided that because it is the walks I enjoy, I will change my routine to just walking on the beach for an hour. This morning though, it was one of those "good idea at the time" type thoughts. The wind has stopped and it is really a bit hot right now - glorious day actually, but we will try again tomorrow, a little earlier perhaps.
I'm not seeing any doctors this whole week because they could only get me an appointment with the plastic surgeon on Monday. She only operates on Tuesday and Wednesday, which probably means that the whole process will be delayed another week. I'm not sure if this makes me happy - in one breath I am happy not to face anything medically right now, but in another I just want the whole thing to be over as my life seems to be on hold. The doctor did say that there should be no harm in a 2-day, 2-week, 2-month wait, but when it starts getting to 2 years, it will be a problem. So how advanced is it then?? So much for the blame shifting I experienced earlier.
Even though I am going to try and catch up on a whole bunch of work stuff these next 2 days, I have acquired a new scooter. So today, with this beautiful weather, I am also going to be playing with my new toy and try and not get caught without a helmet so that I can enjoy that "wind in my hair" feeling - while I still have some :-). And if I get caught it will be "FFS man, I got cancer you know!!" LOL
I'm really glad I started this blog. Even though some days might sound like stone, after I have written, it really does lift me a bit. Jordan's hip hop concert last night was also a spirit lifter. So even though it was a bad start ... I got a feeling, wooh hoo, that today's going to be a good day ... a goo good day - lalalalala (.)(.)
I have many little practices I indulge in to try and get myself out of any dark hole. Simple practices like inspirational reading, deep contemplation, writing, talking to my sponsor, a trusted friend or God, the list goes on. None of them ever seem to work at the time, but they must plant a seed somewhere along the way until I eventually find that A-HA moment of whatever it is that might get me out of this dark mood. Believe it or not, my A-HA moment this time was simply lack of exercise.
For the last year I have been walking to the gym 4 days a week, but on hearing my news, I simply stopped. Even though I have learnt to enjoy my exercise routine, it was mainly the quiet time of the walk and the feel-good effect one gets after gym that kept me doing it daily. It was not the gym itself that I enjoyed. Who honestly does enjoy gym? Maybe the odd queen, who is looking for an easy flirt, or the narcissistic muscle-man who only has eyes for himself. They are the funniest to watch as their eyes are so fixed on their muscles that they don't even acknowledge the farts that loudly escape on weight exertion ... very appealing. We get all embarrassed and pretend we didn't notice, but they don't actually give a shit - now that is narcissism!! As for me, I deliberately choose a time that I hope I am not going to be seen by anyone I know, because it aint a pretty sight seeing me at gym. All sweaty and red faced with a birds-nest hairstyle. I was a little nervous to go back to gym because there is quite a bit in my routine that includes the breast. At one stage, I even thought maybe this sparked the whole thing off, but I know that this is an easy excuse. It is my excuse though and I am sticking to it ... for now!!
Finding out your A-HA moment is one thing, getting back into the routine is another. I have decided that because it is the walks I enjoy, I will change my routine to just walking on the beach for an hour. This morning though, it was one of those "good idea at the time" type thoughts. The wind has stopped and it is really a bit hot right now - glorious day actually, but we will try again tomorrow, a little earlier perhaps.
I'm not seeing any doctors this whole week because they could only get me an appointment with the plastic surgeon on Monday. She only operates on Tuesday and Wednesday, which probably means that the whole process will be delayed another week. I'm not sure if this makes me happy - in one breath I am happy not to face anything medically right now, but in another I just want the whole thing to be over as my life seems to be on hold. The doctor did say that there should be no harm in a 2-day, 2-week, 2-month wait, but when it starts getting to 2 years, it will be a problem. So how advanced is it then?? So much for the blame shifting I experienced earlier.
Even though I am going to try and catch up on a whole bunch of work stuff these next 2 days, I have acquired a new scooter. So today, with this beautiful weather, I am also going to be playing with my new toy and try and not get caught without a helmet so that I can enjoy that "wind in my hair" feeling - while I still have some :-). And if I get caught it will be "FFS man, I got cancer you know!!" LOL
I'm really glad I started this blog. Even though some days might sound like stone, after I have written, it really does lift me a bit. Jordan's hip hop concert last night was also a spirit lifter. So even though it was a bad start ... I got a feeling, wooh hoo, that today's going to be a good day ... a goo good day - lalalalala (.)(.)
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
Day 8 - 21 October 2009
Jordan is at the age where EVERYTHING is embarrassing. I am lucky to steal a kiss from him when we are in any close vicinity of school or mates. I am aware that when we get to the "hairless" stage of my journey that he is going to have these conflicting feelings - "he loves his mommy but doesn't want his mates to see me and feels bad about it" type feelings. Shame man! So I can't be the big mouthed mother on the sidelines of sports events anymore. Oh God, I hope I don't take it too personally at the time. If I don't get too self-conscious, maybe I can pull the bandanna-look off as trendy - that's if bandannas are still trendy. Di come to Cape Town, we need to go shopping.
The one thought that is making things a little easier for me is I remember when Jordan was a baby and I use to see those bratty 2 year-olds running around. The despair I felt thinking "how on earth am I going to manage that". When my time came and I had my own bratty 2 year-old, I was ready for it. So when I get these anxious moments of OMG, then God faithfully gives me these examples to remember. So I trust I will be ready, when my time comes, to be able to bravely take each step. I have no flipping choice anyway!!!
I am so out of any normal routine. My life is totally deurmekaar right now (impressive Afrikaans hey susterrrs). It feels a little scary to feel this unmanageability in my life. But if the truth be told, I don't want to plan anything as it just makes it easier to not feel bad when I don't achieve it (work wise). Besides the fact that work is the last thing I feel like doing, which is quite abnormal for me because I like working. I get the bare minimum done to ease my own conscience, but the rest of the time is spent with daily chats to my family and friends and answering of emails. And yep, I am straight back into the afternoon nap routine. I hope it is not depression creeping up on me.
I'm in a bit of a dazed and confused state right now. Both Hil and I are experiencing ikky tummys from time to time - I think it is a little bit of nerves kicking in and my lip and nose is full of cold sores. My body must be taking on its own form of strain. I am also smoking like a chimney and realised the other day that by 2pm I hadn't had breakfast yet. All this doesn't help the body strain. But by writing about it makes me conscious of it which hopefully will turn into some form of responsible action ... aaargh ... right now, that sounds tiring ... responsible action!!! The morphine I am not allowed to have after the op sounds more appealing and I find my thoughts dangerously pondering around there more and more - but that is just the addict in me trying to find a vulnerable entry for bargaining, as it sounds easier to blot out the feelings than face them. With my life going a bit out of balance was the first entry level for these thoughts, so I need to address that. I feel like I have taken a nose dive into despair as the reality starts sinking in. But, I want to get out of it quickly, especially as things haven't even started yet. I guess it is like that old song says "Some days are diamonds, some days are stone". It also doesn't help that it is blowing a gale force outside. This is definitely not good for the hairstyle.
I think the thing that is getting me the most is chemo. I don't want to do chemo and have this strange stuff in my body killing all my good cells and making me vomit. Sick for a long time doesn't do it for me. Maybe I need to make friends with the chemo.
I think that is all the bitching I want to do, as I am sounding a little PLOM (poor little ol' me). Just now it might sound like - poor me, poor me, pour me another one :-) I need to go and find my happy face as I really want to share my niece's excitement. Airport time soon. I would rather think about going to Miami than Milnerton Medi-Clinic. Maybe a long shower will help with the saying of the serenity prayer - God, give me the serenity, to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can and the wisdom to know the difference.
Until tomorrow when hopefully I will feel better (.)(.)
The one thought that is making things a little easier for me is I remember when Jordan was a baby and I use to see those bratty 2 year-olds running around. The despair I felt thinking "how on earth am I going to manage that". When my time came and I had my own bratty 2 year-old, I was ready for it. So when I get these anxious moments of OMG, then God faithfully gives me these examples to remember. So I trust I will be ready, when my time comes, to be able to bravely take each step. I have no flipping choice anyway!!!
I am so out of any normal routine. My life is totally deurmekaar right now (impressive Afrikaans hey susterrrs). It feels a little scary to feel this unmanageability in my life. But if the truth be told, I don't want to plan anything as it just makes it easier to not feel bad when I don't achieve it (work wise). Besides the fact that work is the last thing I feel like doing, which is quite abnormal for me because I like working. I get the bare minimum done to ease my own conscience, but the rest of the time is spent with daily chats to my family and friends and answering of emails. And yep, I am straight back into the afternoon nap routine. I hope it is not depression creeping up on me.
I'm in a bit of a dazed and confused state right now. Both Hil and I are experiencing ikky tummys from time to time - I think it is a little bit of nerves kicking in and my lip and nose is full of cold sores. My body must be taking on its own form of strain. I am also smoking like a chimney and realised the other day that by 2pm I hadn't had breakfast yet. All this doesn't help the body strain. But by writing about it makes me conscious of it which hopefully will turn into some form of responsible action ... aaargh ... right now, that sounds tiring ... responsible action!!! The morphine I am not allowed to have after the op sounds more appealing and I find my thoughts dangerously pondering around there more and more - but that is just the addict in me trying to find a vulnerable entry for bargaining, as it sounds easier to blot out the feelings than face them. With my life going a bit out of balance was the first entry level for these thoughts, so I need to address that. I feel like I have taken a nose dive into despair as the reality starts sinking in. But, I want to get out of it quickly, especially as things haven't even started yet. I guess it is like that old song says "Some days are diamonds, some days are stone". It also doesn't help that it is blowing a gale force outside. This is definitely not good for the hairstyle.
I think the thing that is getting me the most is chemo. I don't want to do chemo and have this strange stuff in my body killing all my good cells and making me vomit. Sick for a long time doesn't do it for me. Maybe I need to make friends with the chemo.
I think that is all the bitching I want to do, as I am sounding a little PLOM (poor little ol' me). Just now it might sound like - poor me, poor me, pour me another one :-) I need to go and find my happy face as I really want to share my niece's excitement. Airport time soon. I would rather think about going to Miami than Milnerton Medi-Clinic. Maybe a long shower will help with the saying of the serenity prayer - God, give me the serenity, to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can and the wisdom to know the difference.
Until tomorrow when hopefully I will feel better (.)(.)
Day 7 - 20 October 2009
I am feeling a lot more rested after having a good night's sleep. It did help to break the afternoon nap habit. I'm feeling a little bad about the way I spoke about the doctor on here because after yesterday's appointment, we are now on hugging terms. I wonder if that is a measure of my condition? He treated me like I was the only person who existed yesterday. He gave me all the time I needed for every conceivable question I could think of and he didn't even look at his watch once, even though I knew that we were over my appointment time.
Everything still seems so surreal, it doesn't seem like what is being told to me is actually happening or going to happen. I am wondering if the reality of it all has actually hit me yet. I feel like I am in a movie or something. But the movie never ends as it is the first thing that starts playing when I wake up in the morning. Last night I took a bit of a dip and felt really sad. It is rather exhausting being sad, and the best remedy for me is sleep.
As for the rest of yesterday, it was full of wonderful surprises of phone calls from my sister in Australia and my friend in New Zealand - both of whom I have not spoken to for a while, but I made up for it by spending hours on the phone. So it is hard for me to project into the future when I do want to enjoy my days and their good surprises. This is a good thing, not an avoidance. My recovery programme has taught me the value of one day at a time, and it is carrying me through this. Sometimes I feel that this sudden news of Cancer has put a new perspective on life. For instance, on my way to my meeting, I had the music pumping like I was a teenager, and it gave me this incredible urge to go dancing before I get sick - so hopefully there will be time to do just that. I am experiencing " living in the NOW" and seeing things that I never really noticed before. I am also overwhelmed by the positive comments on here, thanks guys. This is just so you know that they do not go unnoticed, even though I have not commented back.
So the string of events to come is this. For the rest of this week I need to see the plastic surgeon and the oncologist. There appears to be a whole bouquet of options when it comes to choosing a tit. This has put a whole new spin of confusion for me. I come from Zimbabwe where choice was not an option, it was either Sunlight Soap or Sunlight Soap. So choice is not good for me when I have already made up my mind. Then there is learning that there are so many different types of Breast Cancer and the one I have spreads to your body but not the other breast. So it is unlikely that Medical Aid will want to pay for the reconstruction to a healthy boob. In my wildest dreams I never thought I would hear these words come from my mouth "How much cost 1 tit". So there is much to think about, and even though I didn't want to be left with one breast, they have assured me that they can make them look identical and maybe even give the left one a lift :-). So it might even be less traumatic to save one of them. My initial choice was aggressive because I want no chance of recurrence.
As for the oncologist, it seems like a bit of a wasted trip for now, but I need to get a report from them in order to satisfy my Medical Aid who will pay everything 100% - thankfully. The one disturbing fact is that they only really know at what stage my cancer is after I have been opened. The "all-clear" on the X-Rays is the first step, but it is not 100% accurate as X-Rays don't pick up everything. So the oncologist only really gets involved after they take out the cancer and test it. Only then can they determine what strength of chemo I need - it could be anything between 3 months to 2 years (of no hair)!! I am now considering a tattoo - but the stick on ones because I am needle-phobic.
Mastectomy is to be either next Tuesday or Friday - the team still have to synchronize diarys. But my "darling" doctor is arranging everything. One less stress. It is also comforting to find out that my family doctor, who we have been with for 18 years, is going to be 3rd assistant. Chemo will only start about 1 month after surgery, so I have my hair for a good 6 weeks still. I was secretly hoping that if we went Mastectomy first that they would cut out all the Cancer and there would be no need for Chemo - but it is not to be.
The good news is I get to take my niece to the airport on Wednesday and have breakfast with her and I get to go to my son's hip hop concert on Wednesday night. So I am grateful that the op is only next week, but it also shows me how long and drawn out this whole process is going to be. I am not the most patient of people (would that be an oxymoron - the impatient patient) and I also have no tolerance for sickness, so this is going to be a challenge. But like I have said, I am never given more than I can handle. (.)(.)
Everything still seems so surreal, it doesn't seem like what is being told to me is actually happening or going to happen. I am wondering if the reality of it all has actually hit me yet. I feel like I am in a movie or something. But the movie never ends as it is the first thing that starts playing when I wake up in the morning. Last night I took a bit of a dip and felt really sad. It is rather exhausting being sad, and the best remedy for me is sleep.
As for the rest of yesterday, it was full of wonderful surprises of phone calls from my sister in Australia and my friend in New Zealand - both of whom I have not spoken to for a while, but I made up for it by spending hours on the phone. So it is hard for me to project into the future when I do want to enjoy my days and their good surprises. This is a good thing, not an avoidance. My recovery programme has taught me the value of one day at a time, and it is carrying me through this. Sometimes I feel that this sudden news of Cancer has put a new perspective on life. For instance, on my way to my meeting, I had the music pumping like I was a teenager, and it gave me this incredible urge to go dancing before I get sick - so hopefully there will be time to do just that. I am experiencing " living in the NOW" and seeing things that I never really noticed before. I am also overwhelmed by the positive comments on here, thanks guys. This is just so you know that they do not go unnoticed, even though I have not commented back.
So the string of events to come is this. For the rest of this week I need to see the plastic surgeon and the oncologist. There appears to be a whole bouquet of options when it comes to choosing a tit. This has put a whole new spin of confusion for me. I come from Zimbabwe where choice was not an option, it was either Sunlight Soap or Sunlight Soap. So choice is not good for me when I have already made up my mind. Then there is learning that there are so many different types of Breast Cancer and the one I have spreads to your body but not the other breast. So it is unlikely that Medical Aid will want to pay for the reconstruction to a healthy boob. In my wildest dreams I never thought I would hear these words come from my mouth "How much cost 1 tit". So there is much to think about, and even though I didn't want to be left with one breast, they have assured me that they can make them look identical and maybe even give the left one a lift :-). So it might even be less traumatic to save one of them. My initial choice was aggressive because I want no chance of recurrence.
As for the oncologist, it seems like a bit of a wasted trip for now, but I need to get a report from them in order to satisfy my Medical Aid who will pay everything 100% - thankfully. The one disturbing fact is that they only really know at what stage my cancer is after I have been opened. The "all-clear" on the X-Rays is the first step, but it is not 100% accurate as X-Rays don't pick up everything. So the oncologist only really gets involved after they take out the cancer and test it. Only then can they determine what strength of chemo I need - it could be anything between 3 months to 2 years (of no hair)!! I am now considering a tattoo - but the stick on ones because I am needle-phobic.
Mastectomy is to be either next Tuesday or Friday - the team still have to synchronize diarys. But my "darling" doctor is arranging everything. One less stress. It is also comforting to find out that my family doctor, who we have been with for 18 years, is going to be 3rd assistant. Chemo will only start about 1 month after surgery, so I have my hair for a good 6 weeks still. I was secretly hoping that if we went Mastectomy first that they would cut out all the Cancer and there would be no need for Chemo - but it is not to be.
The good news is I get to take my niece to the airport on Wednesday and have breakfast with her and I get to go to my son's hip hop concert on Wednesday night. So I am grateful that the op is only next week, but it also shows me how long and drawn out this whole process is going to be. I am not the most patient of people (would that be an oxymoron - the impatient patient) and I also have no tolerance for sickness, so this is going to be a challenge. But like I have said, I am never given more than I can handle. (.)(.)
Monday, October 19, 2009
Day 6 - 19 October 2009
I have not been sleeping too well. Still having late nights and early mornings with sleep evading me until the afternoon. I am feeling quite anxious now but am going to treat today like any normal work day until my 14h45 specialist appointment. Right in the middle of my afternoon nap. Hopefully it will force me back into a normal sleep pattern as I can feel the onset of grumpiness coming on, caused by sleep deprivation.
Then there is Hil, my partner of 19 years. A lot of people have asked me how she is really coping, because all she talks about is me and not her. From my perspective, all I can say is that on the outside she is holding up pretty well, but I know this is also hard on her. I can hear the sniffles coming from upstairs when she is on her own - even though she is also trying to be brave. I sometimes think it is harder for the other party to watch a loved one go through something like this and having no control over it. We have talked extensively about how we are going to handle things in every detail - from treatment, options, Jordan, each others feelings, etc. We have even touched on the "what if ... death situation" - mainly whilst waiting for the other results of spread. Thankfully, she now honestly believes that it won't get to that, so we are on the same thinking there. This is a huge step for her to believe, as she has absolutely no confidence with Cancer after watching her sister and our friend Rhona lose their battles with it. I am also grateful that we are on the same faith level, even though she is Jewish. Like me, she also talks to God a lot. So there is no desperate calls to God when thinking of one's own mortality such as: "Hey there ... how you doing ... long time no chat ... but listen up, I have a favour to ask" - even though I know that this would be delightful music to God's ears to hear from anyone.
So yes, not only is there the emotional drain, but she is also going to have to take on all my responsibilities of business, home, Jordan, etc as well as take care of me. She is more than capable though because it was only 15 months ago (when I was in Rehab for 2 months) that she got the practice as well as a lot more uninvited issues to deal with.
I feel truly blessed to have the support I have. I would hate to face this on my own like our friend Rhona did. She was a single mother. She had many friends, but there are some things that you only want to share with your significant other. As for my son, he just doesn't want me to lose my boobs (there's that relationship again). He says, as he snuggles up to them when we have our goodnight cuddles and talks, "No Mom, I love them, just tell those doctors not to take them off".
After sharing this blog with my close friends and family, I am pleased to say that already it has done some good. My cousin in Canada and my friend in Tableview are already considering mammogram checks. So being Breast Cancer Awareness Month, please feel free to share this blog with anyone you know who might have Cancer, be a survivor of Cancer or have any dis - ease in their life. My other recovery programme works on the successful principle of one addict helping another. I believe the same thing can happen here because sometimes I feel this daunting isolation with my feelings and fears, and when you read that someone else is going through the same thing, then you realise that you are not alone. As my Just-For-Today reading yesterday said - we get to share the bond of suffering and the hope for the future. So, if someone (even unknown to me) would like to connect with me via my blog, to share, laugh, cringe or cry, then this too will be of mutual benefit - (.)(.)
Then there is Hil, my partner of 19 years. A lot of people have asked me how she is really coping, because all she talks about is me and not her. From my perspective, all I can say is that on the outside she is holding up pretty well, but I know this is also hard on her. I can hear the sniffles coming from upstairs when she is on her own - even though she is also trying to be brave. I sometimes think it is harder for the other party to watch a loved one go through something like this and having no control over it. We have talked extensively about how we are going to handle things in every detail - from treatment, options, Jordan, each others feelings, etc. We have even touched on the "what if ... death situation" - mainly whilst waiting for the other results of spread. Thankfully, she now honestly believes that it won't get to that, so we are on the same thinking there. This is a huge step for her to believe, as she has absolutely no confidence with Cancer after watching her sister and our friend Rhona lose their battles with it. I am also grateful that we are on the same faith level, even though she is Jewish. Like me, she also talks to God a lot. So there is no desperate calls to God when thinking of one's own mortality such as: "Hey there ... how you doing ... long time no chat ... but listen up, I have a favour to ask" - even though I know that this would be delightful music to God's ears to hear from anyone.
So yes, not only is there the emotional drain, but she is also going to have to take on all my responsibilities of business, home, Jordan, etc as well as take care of me. She is more than capable though because it was only 15 months ago (when I was in Rehab for 2 months) that she got the practice as well as a lot more uninvited issues to deal with.
I feel truly blessed to have the support I have. I would hate to face this on my own like our friend Rhona did. She was a single mother. She had many friends, but there are some things that you only want to share with your significant other. As for my son, he just doesn't want me to lose my boobs (there's that relationship again). He says, as he snuggles up to them when we have our goodnight cuddles and talks, "No Mom, I love them, just tell those doctors not to take them off".
After sharing this blog with my close friends and family, I am pleased to say that already it has done some good. My cousin in Canada and my friend in Tableview are already considering mammogram checks. So being Breast Cancer Awareness Month, please feel free to share this blog with anyone you know who might have Cancer, be a survivor of Cancer or have any dis - ease in their life. My other recovery programme works on the successful principle of one addict helping another. I believe the same thing can happen here because sometimes I feel this daunting isolation with my feelings and fears, and when you read that someone else is going through the same thing, then you realise that you are not alone. As my Just-For-Today reading yesterday said - we get to share the bond of suffering and the hope for the future. So, if someone (even unknown to me) would like to connect with me via my blog, to share, laugh, cringe or cry, then this too will be of mutual benefit - (.)(.)
Saturday, October 17, 2009
Day 4 - 17 October 2009
Well I didn't get my flat screen TV yet, but I did get this apron as a present. Hmmm!!! A little Dolly Parton for me but anyone up for a braai??Actually it is amazing when you become aware of something, you suddenly see it everywhere. Like when you buy that unique blue BMW, all of a sudden you see 10 in a day. I think the official name for it is post-cognitive dissonance (thanks Hil). Well the same thing is happening with my Breast Cancer. Not only do I hear it on every radio station, TV ad, etc - which is expected because of Breast Cancer Awareness Month, but 3 movies we have casually flipped the channel to - there it is!! When I pick up a magazine, wham - some editor has just died of cancer.
Then there are the friends - some do it playfully on purpose because they know they can, but others (to their embarrassment) don't. Things like - keep me abreast, tits up, oh that is tit, let me titillate you, you are getting on my tits, he is a complete tit, and of course the boobie-icon (.) (.) - compliments of my cousin in Canada, which I am now going to use as my sign-off signature to these posts. I like the humor in it though, so to those who feel "oops, I hope I didn't make a boo-boob" ... please, I am not that sensitive.
I am pleased to say that since yesterday morning I haven't much thought about next week in any heavy way. I want to keep it that way, so am making this a short entry and will be sitting by the pool all day tomorrow - which means no entry - so until the dreaded Monday - tits up (.) (.)
Friday, October 16, 2009
Day 3 - 16 October 2009
This morning I have had bouts of emotion and the tears just come uninvited. Don't ask me what the fuck I'm crying about, because it is just everything! It feels almost hormonal in nature, like when I was pregnant and cried for things like the picture being crooked or something just as important. I hope I don't get saddled with menopause on top of this - then I will be a real babbling bitch!
My niece is leaving for Miami next week. This should be her time. I was about her age when I went overseas by myself for the first time. It's scary and exciting at the same time, and those butterflies just haven't learnt how to fly in formation because of the anticipation. The worst is, I'm probably going to be in hospital when she leaves. I am so pleased that she inherited her mother's softer traits of kindness and compassion, because that is all she needs to make it in the big wide world.
As this stage, I'm not sure what really comes first - chemo or operation. I hear lots of differing stories from others who have gone before me. As much as I try and make this my experience and not get caught up in what other people have gone through, it is difficult. But then again, I also don't want to avoid thinking about the inevitable. That to me is like doing the ostrich dance which tends to create denial in me. I'm past the naivety of praying for things not to happen when I know they are going to. It just dilutes my faith. Instead my prayers take the shape of giving me strength to handle it. I also know I am never given more than I can handle. I am grateful that I am at this maturity level, because it is easy to get caught up in wanting to blame somebody or something for life being so unfair, and in this type of thing it is always God who seems the appropriate candidate for blame. But this serves nothing besides making me resentful which is an easy way out of trying to shift responsibility to the way forward. I cannot afford to move into the self-pity department because all sorts of trouble can stem from this, especially as I am a recovering addict.
On that note, I wonder if they have strong enough medical drugs to give me, as I can only use certain drugs that won't interfere with my recovery. Oh Lordy Lord!!
Right now, out of everything that I'm going to lose - I think it is my hair, eyebrows and eyelashes that I am going to miss the most, because let's be quite honest - it is just downright freakish!! I'm all for shaving it all off (well 2 inches at first) the minute I start chemo as I don't want to wake up one day with a pillow full of hair - little stubbles will be less traumatic. It is the shiny head look where you can fix your own hair with the mirror effect from my head that is going to be the worst for me. It is also scary for my son. We know because we have been through it with friends and family and Jordan was so wary and confused that he didn't even want to sit next to them at the dinner table. Can you imagine your son being scared of you because of how you look. We are trying to prepare him at the level of his understanding and will continue to do so as more info becomes available, but I know that no matter how much you try and prepare, it is still rather shocking. I wonder what my scalp looks like - I hope there are no dents or overlaps!!
I also don't do wigs, dooks and turbans. So it is going to be bandannas and baseball caps for me. I have an upcoming presentation to a board of directors in December. Oh crap, that's going to be awkward in my frock and baseball cap!!
So I am going to be mistaken for a boy more often than I am now - big deal!! I'm not the most feminine of girls and have been called Sir by petrol attendants on occasion after a short haircut, but even though I'm gay, I am not a butch, dyke, burn-the-bra gay. I like the little bit of femininity I have, so I don't take it as a compliment to be called Sir like some dykes do. This is the main reason I decided to have reconstruction. I am Jordan's MOM and I don't want his friends teasing him about his Dad!! That is just the nasty shit that kids are known to do and it won't be fair on him.
Well today has been a special day as I have just had a friend come around to nurture me with foot massages which was surprisingly gentle (she knows how precious I am in the pain department). But this is just the sort of people I am surrounded by - so aren't I the luckiest person right now. I'm also getting a new laptop from another friend for my hospital days. I wonder if it is pushing it to leave my "wish list" of flat screen TV, etc lying around for all to see?? (.)(.)
My niece is leaving for Miami next week. This should be her time. I was about her age when I went overseas by myself for the first time. It's scary and exciting at the same time, and those butterflies just haven't learnt how to fly in formation because of the anticipation. The worst is, I'm probably going to be in hospital when she leaves. I am so pleased that she inherited her mother's softer traits of kindness and compassion, because that is all she needs to make it in the big wide world.
As this stage, I'm not sure what really comes first - chemo or operation. I hear lots of differing stories from others who have gone before me. As much as I try and make this my experience and not get caught up in what other people have gone through, it is difficult. But then again, I also don't want to avoid thinking about the inevitable. That to me is like doing the ostrich dance which tends to create denial in me. I'm past the naivety of praying for things not to happen when I know they are going to. It just dilutes my faith. Instead my prayers take the shape of giving me strength to handle it. I also know I am never given more than I can handle. I am grateful that I am at this maturity level, because it is easy to get caught up in wanting to blame somebody or something for life being so unfair, and in this type of thing it is always God who seems the appropriate candidate for blame. But this serves nothing besides making me resentful which is an easy way out of trying to shift responsibility to the way forward. I cannot afford to move into the self-pity department because all sorts of trouble can stem from this, especially as I am a recovering addict.
On that note, I wonder if they have strong enough medical drugs to give me, as I can only use certain drugs that won't interfere with my recovery. Oh Lordy Lord!!
Right now, out of everything that I'm going to lose - I think it is my hair, eyebrows and eyelashes that I am going to miss the most, because let's be quite honest - it is just downright freakish!! I'm all for shaving it all off (well 2 inches at first) the minute I start chemo as I don't want to wake up one day with a pillow full of hair - little stubbles will be less traumatic. It is the shiny head look where you can fix your own hair with the mirror effect from my head that is going to be the worst for me. It is also scary for my son. We know because we have been through it with friends and family and Jordan was so wary and confused that he didn't even want to sit next to them at the dinner table. Can you imagine your son being scared of you because of how you look. We are trying to prepare him at the level of his understanding and will continue to do so as more info becomes available, but I know that no matter how much you try and prepare, it is still rather shocking. I wonder what my scalp looks like - I hope there are no dents or overlaps!!
I also don't do wigs, dooks and turbans. So it is going to be bandannas and baseball caps for me. I have an upcoming presentation to a board of directors in December. Oh crap, that's going to be awkward in my frock and baseball cap!!
So I am going to be mistaken for a boy more often than I am now - big deal!! I'm not the most feminine of girls and have been called Sir by petrol attendants on occasion after a short haircut, but even though I'm gay, I am not a butch, dyke, burn-the-bra gay. I like the little bit of femininity I have, so I don't take it as a compliment to be called Sir like some dykes do. This is the main reason I decided to have reconstruction. I am Jordan's MOM and I don't want his friends teasing him about his Dad!! That is just the nasty shit that kids are known to do and it won't be fair on him.
Well today has been a special day as I have just had a friend come around to nurture me with foot massages which was surprisingly gentle (she knows how precious I am in the pain department). But this is just the sort of people I am surrounded by - so aren't I the luckiest person right now. I'm also getting a new laptop from another friend for my hospital days. I wonder if it is pushing it to leave my "wish list" of flat screen TV, etc lying around for all to see?? (.)(.)
Thursday, October 15, 2009
Day 2 - 15 October 2009
Thought I would try and catch an early night last night and hit the sack 10ish, but it was a false alarm. I tossed and turned for about 30 minutes thinking "OMG I must get all the hugs I can get these next few days from my son because it is going to be sore next week". Infact, anybody who sees me pre-op, please don't forget to "hug a friend today!"
It's amazing the silly thoughts that take up head space. I guess it is because I have become so aware of my boobs lately. They are even more sore since I have been told (so gentle hugs please). I'm not sure if it is psychological or if it is like when you are breast-feeding. Your boobs talk to you and they seem to have their own relationship with baby. They say when it is time to feed. But then again, I could also be pre-menstrual and over dramatising the pain.
So clearly I need to write - I woke up at 04h30 with all these stories in my head. Late nights, early mornings - it's a no wonder I'm getting into the daily habit of needing an afternoon nap. I have joked about milking this for all it's worth (excuse the pun) ... a.k.a. home laziness, but I also know that I can only take it so far with the "can I have some tea please, in bed, coz I am sick you know!". Even though it is a joke and we are trying to humourise our situation, I do know when it is pushing it too far.
I must say, even though I am holding up quite well with attitude, I do feel emotionally and physically exhausted. I refuse to feel guilty about not being as productive as I normally am on the work front. I'm learning flexibility and to ease up on myself if I don't get a full days work done. I need to learn to "BE" more which doesn't necessarily have to include "DO"!
I was talking about my ultimate goal of having a published book. The ideas keep rolling in. I don't necessarily want to write my memoir - this blog is enough about me and my thoughts. I am open to any idea that may come through this experience. It could even come in the form of making the doctor (who was ugly to me) the lead character in a Mills & Boon book. I don't know, perhaps give him an enviable-sized dick or something that he might be lacking now but needs to make up for by thinking it is okay to treat people with the bedside manner of a Nazi!! I think that first day, I cried more about the way he treated me than the actual news he delivered without proper prognosis. But who knows, perhaps he is a player or something because he is extremely good looking and clearly successful, given the amount of patients he had in his waiting room and suddenly I also know of 5 people who have been to him before. So I imagine players don't do lesbians too well - we don't swoon over their Godliness!! My imaginings in the Mills & Boon genre are now about a multi-billionaire who does doctoring for the love of it - and then he sweeps his virgin blushing bride up into his arms and says "Just a minute my love, this patient needs me!!"
It's a known fact that I am not the bravest of people and I have the pain threshold of an ant. I am also known to cry through the fear of pain more than pain itself, sometimes uncontrollably. I try to control it, but it just happens. Even when my family doctor takes blood we have to sing nursery rhymes "1, 2, 3, 4, 5 - once I caught a fish alive". I know it is childish, but there you have it. This is probably the main reason why I avoid doctors like the plague.
This first year in my other recovery I decided to face this fear head-on and become more responsible with my health. I was doing really well - the guynie checks, dentists, lump removed from shoulder. I could even do it all on my own, if I wanted to. So I thought I had broken the camels back with this fear. It was all lost thanks to that last biopsy where they stuck the fattest needle (with a blade at the end) in my breast without local anesthetic. I was supposed to have local and was told right up until the needle hit my tittie that it was local - OMG - when he said it was all over, I didn't know whether to kiss or klap him for lying - but I guess that's the best way to treat someone like me.
One good thing, when they told me that it was advisable not to let my partner come in to support me as the sight of it could be disturbing, I selflessly said OK, I'll do it on my own - now that's brave isn't it?? I asked my family doctor at yesterday's visit if we could test my bravery skills by cutting a mole off my eye. "Just sommer cut" I said. I mean, I can't be lying in the hospital bed and everyone sees it when my eye is closed - vain perhaps - but to me it was purely testing bravery skills :-) ..
The fact that it is Breast Cancer Awareness Month had nothing to do with my mammogram check-up - it was purely coincidental. I was told the good news though, it went something like this whilst having an ultra-sound - "Oh my, that is big - you do know that you get 10% off all mammograms being Breast Cancer Month". It's like saying - the bad news is we have to cut your tits off, but the good news is you get 10% off!!
Then there is the blame shifting that goes on. When I told them that I was waiting for the guynie appointment before addressing the lump I had detected 2 months prior, you just see the eyebrow raising in that headmistress-ish way. You know what, I can't be blaming myself for leaving it too late. I justify this thought by saying to myself - "if I were the once-a-year mammogram checker, then the lump could have started the day after the check". But hey, it is Breast Cancer Awareness Month and from one who never did checks (and never has to again), I am now the front person in the endorsement line of "Have your checks girlfriends" because my way is not recommended. But blaming myself won't do me any good - I am exactly where I am supposed to be - and all I can do is learn from my mistakes and pass on whatever wisdom comes from it.
Even though it is only Day 2, I am getting there one day at a time. Last night's gratitude list (which I do daily) included "nothing medical for next 4 days". It at least gives me a chance to prepare mentally and say goodbye to my titties in my own way!!
It's amazing the silly thoughts that take up head space. I guess it is because I have become so aware of my boobs lately. They are even more sore since I have been told (so gentle hugs please). I'm not sure if it is psychological or if it is like when you are breast-feeding. Your boobs talk to you and they seem to have their own relationship with baby. They say when it is time to feed. But then again, I could also be pre-menstrual and over dramatising the pain.
So clearly I need to write - I woke up at 04h30 with all these stories in my head. Late nights, early mornings - it's a no wonder I'm getting into the daily habit of needing an afternoon nap. I have joked about milking this for all it's worth (excuse the pun) ... a.k.a. home laziness, but I also know that I can only take it so far with the "can I have some tea please, in bed, coz I am sick you know!". Even though it is a joke and we are trying to humourise our situation, I do know when it is pushing it too far.
I must say, even though I am holding up quite well with attitude, I do feel emotionally and physically exhausted. I refuse to feel guilty about not being as productive as I normally am on the work front. I'm learning flexibility and to ease up on myself if I don't get a full days work done. I need to learn to "BE" more which doesn't necessarily have to include "DO"!
I was talking about my ultimate goal of having a published book. The ideas keep rolling in. I don't necessarily want to write my memoir - this blog is enough about me and my thoughts. I am open to any idea that may come through this experience. It could even come in the form of making the doctor (who was ugly to me) the lead character in a Mills & Boon book. I don't know, perhaps give him an enviable-sized dick or something that he might be lacking now but needs to make up for by thinking it is okay to treat people with the bedside manner of a Nazi!! I think that first day, I cried more about the way he treated me than the actual news he delivered without proper prognosis. But who knows, perhaps he is a player or something because he is extremely good looking and clearly successful, given the amount of patients he had in his waiting room and suddenly I also know of 5 people who have been to him before. So I imagine players don't do lesbians too well - we don't swoon over their Godliness!! My imaginings in the Mills & Boon genre are now about a multi-billionaire who does doctoring for the love of it - and then he sweeps his virgin blushing bride up into his arms and says "Just a minute my love, this patient needs me!!"
It's a known fact that I am not the bravest of people and I have the pain threshold of an ant. I am also known to cry through the fear of pain more than pain itself, sometimes uncontrollably. I try to control it, but it just happens. Even when my family doctor takes blood we have to sing nursery rhymes "1, 2, 3, 4, 5 - once I caught a fish alive". I know it is childish, but there you have it. This is probably the main reason why I avoid doctors like the plague.
This first year in my other recovery I decided to face this fear head-on and become more responsible with my health. I was doing really well - the guynie checks, dentists, lump removed from shoulder. I could even do it all on my own, if I wanted to. So I thought I had broken the camels back with this fear. It was all lost thanks to that last biopsy where they stuck the fattest needle (with a blade at the end) in my breast without local anesthetic. I was supposed to have local and was told right up until the needle hit my tittie that it was local - OMG - when he said it was all over, I didn't know whether to kiss or klap him for lying - but I guess that's the best way to treat someone like me.
One good thing, when they told me that it was advisable not to let my partner come in to support me as the sight of it could be disturbing, I selflessly said OK, I'll do it on my own - now that's brave isn't it?? I asked my family doctor at yesterday's visit if we could test my bravery skills by cutting a mole off my eye. "Just sommer cut" I said. I mean, I can't be lying in the hospital bed and everyone sees it when my eye is closed - vain perhaps - but to me it was purely testing bravery skills :-) ..
The fact that it is Breast Cancer Awareness Month had nothing to do with my mammogram check-up - it was purely coincidental. I was told the good news though, it went something like this whilst having an ultra-sound - "Oh my, that is big - you do know that you get 10% off all mammograms being Breast Cancer Month". It's like saying - the bad news is we have to cut your tits off, but the good news is you get 10% off!!
Then there is the blame shifting that goes on. When I told them that I was waiting for the guynie appointment before addressing the lump I had detected 2 months prior, you just see the eyebrow raising in that headmistress-ish way. You know what, I can't be blaming myself for leaving it too late. I justify this thought by saying to myself - "if I were the once-a-year mammogram checker, then the lump could have started the day after the check". But hey, it is Breast Cancer Awareness Month and from one who never did checks (and never has to again), I am now the front person in the endorsement line of "Have your checks girlfriends" because my way is not recommended. But blaming myself won't do me any good - I am exactly where I am supposed to be - and all I can do is learn from my mistakes and pass on whatever wisdom comes from it.
Even though it is only Day 2, I am getting there one day at a time. Last night's gratitude list (which I do daily) included "nothing medical for next 4 days". It at least gives me a chance to prepare mentally and say goodbye to my titties in my own way!!
Day 1 - 14 October 2009
My friend Tanya made the suggestion that I start a blog about this new journey I am on, and I have never felt more inspired to do something as immediate as this. I belong to a Writer's Circle of very talented creatives who have become stunning friends too. We are also each others watchdogs on the creative goal front. My initial 8-week goal (which I am in week 4 or 5) is to set up a platform, like an interactive website, where I can share my pearls of wisdom regarding addiction recovery. Being 15 months clean with a direct line to God gave me the confidence to think I can, but you know how procrastination seeps in sowing the seeds of doubt - "whose going to read it anyway". I am however of the belief that if I can help just one suffering addict out there, then it would be well worth the effort. In the end it is actually ME I am helping.
So God, having the sense of humour I have become accustomed to (you know the kind that gives a gay unnatural mother type chick a son to teach me responsibility, patience and unconditional love like no other), saw the procrastination happening and probably thought it would be a good idea to give me fresh material and reasons to get my writing career back on track immediately. So if this blog be my practise run for the real thing, then so be it!!
I also know that it is going to be a record of my journey and a way to self-help myself through it all. I am going to have those fears, become vulnerable, etc - but by acknowledging them and putting them out there exposes them, puts light on any fear that may be lurking around in the dark. Exposing fear allows me to acknowledge and deal with it before it turns into self-pity.
I am writing this primarily for ME as well as for my friends and family so that they can know where I am really at. I am also secretly hoping that by remembering this journey, inspiration will find me a story that results in a published book. My ultimate goal. So as you can see, still too much to do, which is why I know without a shadow of a doubt that being told I have Breast Cancer yesterday does not seem like a death sentence to me. Infact, after what I have been through this last week of anxious waiting, needles in titties (and I am needle-phobic) - (Note to self - must check what the right word for that is), I am relieved to hear that it is ONLY Breast Cancer. It seems pretty ironic that 3 days ago this was the ultimate panic for everyone, but being told that it is ductal cancer, which is advanced and the most aggressive in terms of spread, particularly because of my age (the one time it is not a compliment to be too young for something - can you believe 45 is considered young for this type of cancer!!) So the wait for the test results of spread to lungs, bones, liver, blood, etc was agonizing. Thankfully the results came quickly and everything was clear. So yes, it seems ironic to be relieved that it is ONLY Breast Cancer. It sure was an effective way to make my friends and family less panicked about me - if only I had thought of this deflection first!! hehe.
So yep, as of yesterday we officially have Cancer and I am sure as hell going to klap it head-on!! This is how I start klapping it - waking up at 05h30 the next morning and addressing my fears, thoughts, moods, whatever experience hits me during this time so that I can understand it, acknowledge it, deal with it and let it go if need be, or share, if it can help someone else.
So this is Day 1 - the sun in shining, I feel inspired to face this day and enjoy it to the full - with a quick visit to the doctor to check out when, where, who with, etc. I think they want to cut my titties off immediately, but if this be the worst, then hey I might get a new pair out of this lot. I have never been emotionally attached to my breasts, you know, like some women who use them as assets might be. They have served their purpose when I breast-fed for 8 days and since then they have migrated south, so a new pair actually sounds appealing right now.
Who knows, I might feel different at the time because I did feel a tinge of compassion towards my breasts this morning when I gently washed the big black X that was written in neo-magic (now there's an old Zim word that shows my age) marking the spot where the culprit lie.
So let's get this show on the road, get what needs doing done immediately so that there is no chance of spread. Klap it so that I can get on with my life.
If you wish to follow me on my journey, I'm going to try my best to make an entry every day. But, be warned, I can sometimes show the rough diamond side of me. I swear like a trooper, say it like it is and sometimes am known to cause a red-face in the crowd. This is how I express myself and I make no apology.
So God, having the sense of humour I have become accustomed to (you know the kind that gives a gay unnatural mother type chick a son to teach me responsibility, patience and unconditional love like no other), saw the procrastination happening and probably thought it would be a good idea to give me fresh material and reasons to get my writing career back on track immediately. So if this blog be my practise run for the real thing, then so be it!!
I also know that it is going to be a record of my journey and a way to self-help myself through it all. I am going to have those fears, become vulnerable, etc - but by acknowledging them and putting them out there exposes them, puts light on any fear that may be lurking around in the dark. Exposing fear allows me to acknowledge and deal with it before it turns into self-pity.
I am writing this primarily for ME as well as for my friends and family so that they can know where I am really at. I am also secretly hoping that by remembering this journey, inspiration will find me a story that results in a published book. My ultimate goal. So as you can see, still too much to do, which is why I know without a shadow of a doubt that being told I have Breast Cancer yesterday does not seem like a death sentence to me. Infact, after what I have been through this last week of anxious waiting, needles in titties (and I am needle-phobic) - (Note to self - must check what the right word for that is), I am relieved to hear that it is ONLY Breast Cancer. It seems pretty ironic that 3 days ago this was the ultimate panic for everyone, but being told that it is ductal cancer, which is advanced and the most aggressive in terms of spread, particularly because of my age (the one time it is not a compliment to be too young for something - can you believe 45 is considered young for this type of cancer!!) So the wait for the test results of spread to lungs, bones, liver, blood, etc was agonizing. Thankfully the results came quickly and everything was clear. So yes, it seems ironic to be relieved that it is ONLY Breast Cancer. It sure was an effective way to make my friends and family less panicked about me - if only I had thought of this deflection first!! hehe.
So yep, as of yesterday we officially have Cancer and I am sure as hell going to klap it head-on!! This is how I start klapping it - waking up at 05h30 the next morning and addressing my fears, thoughts, moods, whatever experience hits me during this time so that I can understand it, acknowledge it, deal with it and let it go if need be, or share, if it can help someone else.
So this is Day 1 - the sun in shining, I feel inspired to face this day and enjoy it to the full - with a quick visit to the doctor to check out when, where, who with, etc. I think they want to cut my titties off immediately, but if this be the worst, then hey I might get a new pair out of this lot. I have never been emotionally attached to my breasts, you know, like some women who use them as assets might be. They have served their purpose when I breast-fed for 8 days and since then they have migrated south, so a new pair actually sounds appealing right now.
Who knows, I might feel different at the time because I did feel a tinge of compassion towards my breasts this morning when I gently washed the big black X that was written in neo-magic (now there's an old Zim word that shows my age) marking the spot where the culprit lie.
So let's get this show on the road, get what needs doing done immediately so that there is no chance of spread. Klap it so that I can get on with my life.
If you wish to follow me on my journey, I'm going to try my best to make an entry every day. But, be warned, I can sometimes show the rough diamond side of me. I swear like a trooper, say it like it is and sometimes am known to cause a red-face in the crowd. This is how I express myself and I make no apology.
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