I’d Hug You But I Can’t Lift My Arms

 You’re so brave, they say
You’re so strong, they say
You’re a survivor, they say
You’re a warrior, they say
You’re a fighter, they say
You’re a winner, they say
You’re an inspiration, they say

from the moment I was born

the cards were stacked against me

I am….simply….me

Growing up, the only thing I’ve known how to do was fight, (not physically mind you) to stay alive. So when cancer decides to invade my fucking boobs and claim them, I had no choice but to fight again….I mean….given my past….why the fuck would I think the Autumn of my life would be any easier than previous seasons?

They prepare you, a little before a bilateral mastectomy. Expect to be sore, they say. You won’t have full range of motion they say. You’ll feel like a fucking Tyrannosaurus Rex, they never said….ever….Some of you may know that when you get home after having your boobs sliced off, you can not move your arms for quite sometime. So when you try to life around the house, you’re kinda just tossing shit around at a slight arm’s throw because your arms are like a goddamned t-rex. Seriously, I felt like such a tard….Tossing shit around….It was quite comical….once I got past the crying and trauma of surgery, I could giggle about it at times. Tossing the towel over the shower rod was the worst. Ha. Lol. Give it a try tomorrow….after your shower…toss your towel over over the rod while keeping your arms at your sides….you’re welcome.

Last post, I’d just completed my second chemo infusion. I didn’t think it was too bad…wrong….boy, was I fucking wrong….The Monday following chemo I returned to the cancer suite to receive a Neulasta shot. Holy fuck me! I thought I was dying sometime around 4:30 am Tuesday morning. This shot causes bone pain, they say. And goddammit–they were not joking. I awoke with my teeth audibly chattering, I was hunched in pain, was sweating while freezing, sitting on the toilet as I thought I was going to expel the toxic chemo from both ends….not a pretty site. I ended up curled up on our recliner, trying to rest as much as I could. I was not able to life the next day. I put an SOS out on FB & called on someone to watch my sweet baboo. Friends came through. Thank you everyone who offered up help. I will need it again. If you are a local SAHM with your own sweet baboo, hmu yo..

Thank fuck I’ve only two more chemo’s to go! Halfway fucking there I am! I can almost see the finish line….after I expel my remaining innards….I’ve spent so much time in the bathroom this week [and why a I telling you? Why are you still reading? Because this is cancer folks. It’s ugly. It’s brutal. It’s bowel shaking…literally]….but if you recall….1st chemo I ate all the Imodium Ad’s….got backed up…gaining almost 12 pounds….not this time buddy….no siree….I’ll stay loose in the caboose if that’s my only way to avoid releasing a 20 pound chemo-poo again….I think I may have lost my small intestine sometime this week. [insert laugh till you cry emoticon here]

Friday, 72 days post bilateral mastectomy, I received another 90cc of saline per each booblike object placed within my body. I totally feel pumped up. Like my body was blown  [like a punching bag] up to mimic that of a football player, the shoulders. I’ve received a total of 370cc’s total, 185cc’s per boob, of saline whilst undergoing renovation….Boom!….now I’ve got quote boobs again…but they’re still such an odd apparatus to sport. Totally hiding this shit out in hoodies for the next couple months.

I don’t know what size volume the average chick chooses as I’ve not researched that. At this point in the race, I only want to remain cancer free….if at the finish line, I have fanfuckintastic set of new tits, well hey, those’ll be my pricing for beating the fuck out of breast cancer! They’ll be my prize for winning and not giving up…even when I want to….this week was goddamn brutal guys. I do not wish chemo upon anyone.

Scientists that are working on discovering cures, keep at that shit! I’ve no doubt you will find a cure….

Breast cancer is not all pink ribbons blowing carefree like a goddamned Summer’s Eve commercial.Breast cancer is home wrecking, life destroying, life altering and all around fucked up.

To those of you who’ve called me brave, inspirational & strong, I certainly don’t feel like an inspiration. My situation has given me the opportunity to allow you fuckers into my chemobrain and oh what fun you’re having eh? Seriously, I’m not a superhuman. I am just me. Kicking cancer in the fucking ass. Just like you would do….stiff lipped….unwavering….

Suck it cancer and damn you badboob.

 

 

Not a brave face…but simply my face

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