My Mind is Calm, My Strength Improving……

Day by day. Step by step. Tear by tear……

When you’re so weak cant even hock a loogie properly, that’s a damn shame. When you’re so weak, you take tissue to your face, knowing you can’t spit. When you’re so weak, you air dry over the toilet, knowing you can barely wipe. When you’re so weak, bowels need emptying and you can’t push. You can’t cry. You can’t do anything but sit, rock, and stare. Wait. Wait for the viscous chemo to finish it’s course. That’s the best I can describe the hell that is chemotherapy. 

Also, I wanted to know who takes the weight from their implants off total body weight. These fuckers are practically four pounds, I think I’m allowed to subtract that almost four pounds from the number the scale spits out at me. I mean, fuck, why not right? Then one could argue you can subtract weight of brain…but that would be foolish. The implants are an add-on…So my weight will be what ever the scale reads minus four pounds.

About three weeks ago, I felt my implant shift!!! This development is exciting as hell!! For months I was so down and depressed over the way my reconstruction turned out. It made such a huge impact on my sense of self, I was devastated and crushed about my results. I even went so far as to consult a second opinion to correct the damage (or what I perceived as damage) to my newly designed tits.

So anyway, the implant shifted and my mood lifted. I shit you not! Just like that. I recall the time and all. The moment it slid into place, my brain opened up and allowed all the light back in!!! Have you ever been blue and out of nowhere your mood breaks? That’s exactly what happened to me!!!! {snoopy dance}

Naturally I call the surgeons office and tell them of my good news and ask what I should do to keep it in place… Whatever you’ve been doing is fine…..Uh….no, it just now shifted after six months. Instead of fucking around and have that baby slide back to my armpit, I picked up an ace-bandage and wrapped my chest for three weeks, treating the boob like a new surgery. My muscle was a bit sore when it slid, still is now…..But they are even!!!! Huge on my tiny frame………….But even!!!!! First time I put bandage on, it took two inches off my chest. Yes, I do measure all….

Trying to get back in the saddle has been a bit difficult. Each time I feel better, I run 1000 miles an hour to complete all the shit that hasn’t been done in months. Then boom, fucking sick again. GRRRRRRRRR Just let me be well enough to dust my fucking house. I swear, I can smell the dust….lol…It’s making my issues worse. Getting back into my beauty routine with my Jenu. Omg, have you tried it?? You NEED to. My face and neck went through the ringer in chemo; needless to say my face is restored and shining brighter than ever! 

Ladies that shave….ugh…chemo has rendered my freezing all the fucking time. If I shave, which is rare, I’ll get goose bumps and have to shave right then, again. So you know when you shave your toes and inadvertently leave that one sprout behind and when you walk you can feel the little hair wave as you walk creating a super creepy feeling. Does that happen to anyone, or is it just me. When preparing your cancer and chemo toiletries, you can forget the razor. Buy some nair. Stray hairs will be the least of your worries until treatment is finished.

I’ve got so many grand ideas regarding #badboob and the direction I wish to go, but broke. Any investors out there willing to take a gamble? hmu 
I have such a sense of pride when the newly diagnosed reach out to me. I mean, I hate it because cancer and shit. But, if I can help, especially with this beast of a fucker; then I’m there. No questions. I support you and all your choices.

By now almost everyone reading this has heard early detection can save lives. It’s true af. The moment you feel a lump, get checked. If you don’t have cancer, fucking great; out $50 for a co-pay. But if you do have cancer, you’ve potentially saved yourself from much harm. Once that cancer latches on, that bitch will not stop until it brings you down. All the way fucking down.

And finally. Be nice to each other. There are very real concerns for our world and state of America. We must unite, put our differences to the side and join arms.

You like vanilla.
I like chocolate.
That’s never destroyed a friendship.
Why should it now?

#badboob out

 

You’ll Get Pneumonia In Your Ass, Tara

Uhm, thanks Flo (my grandmother). That always cracked me the fuck up. I mean why my ass? When my lungs were always fucked up? What is the correlation?  My Flo, was always good like that….I’d get a cold in my ass, she’d put my ass in a sling, pneumonia in my ass…..not quite sure why she was obsessed with getting colds in my ass. Not sure her her reasoning for this way of thinking….Could be her mother’s influence. Irene, my great grandmother immigrated from Budapest to Ellis Island, with the family, in the early teen’s…..I know they faced real threats of illness on that boat ride.. What really happened during that trip? hmmm…..

So here I sit with a Vicks bib, tissues, a strong ass antibiotic, and nebulizer watching my guys play in the snow. Yup, I’m the chick that has a hysterectomy in the summer; preventing me from swimming. And pneumonia in the winter; preventing me from snowman construction. Winner winner 43 year old loser. [cry laughing emoji]

So it seems once you graduate from chemotherapy your body will never be the same. Ever. regardless of what those around you may say….You haven’t had chemo in  months. The chemo is gone. You should be fine by now. Wrong! Wrong! and Wrong…Educate yourselves before you tell me how I should be feeling/acting/doing…. Since I finished chemo, 234 days ago, I’ve had bronchitis, ulcerative laryngitis and now pneumonia…..not to mention the ladycave snafu end of September….So what does all this mean?

Not a goddamned thing. Just spilling shit from my brain. Releasing my mind of thoughts and shit. Should you choose to read, awesome, if not…..that’s cool. I’ll still be here.

Before I went to ER for pneumonia, I puked. A few times. I was painfully cold, then upchucked my empty stomach into the trash….and holy fuck me…..I’d been able to push the chemo pukes to the far reaches of my memory, totally forgotten how bad it was. Until I puked. And puke I did. I thought I was dying. The amount of muscles it take from an achy body was hell. Pure hell. That shit was wiped from my mind as fast as it happened. Along with the bone pain, full body spasms…..PSTD I believe is the correct term.

You cancer haver’s…..don’t let anyone belittle your experience. I spent so much time and too many tears on those who I lost. Those friends, those family members, those humans who I thought would always be there for me…..fucking gone. Those motherfuckers who wanted to belittle me, challenge me, fucking fight me when I was already down for the count…..FUCK THEM ALL……I seriously spent a lot of time wondering what I did, what did I say to offend them…..I realized it was jealously, stupidity, and simply being a fuckwad was their problem. It wasn’t until recently that this epiphany came to me….after too many tears and cries…..

If you’re faced with ass fucker dildo heads in your life, please, I  implore you—don’t let them get into your brain. Fuck the naysayers. It will do more harm to your healing than good. Trust me. I’m still trying to emotionally heal from their low blows.

Cancer is not easy. Hear me?? CANCER IS NOT EASY. THE TREATMENT IS NOT EASY. NOTHING IS EASY ABOUT THIS BEAST. NOTHING. And don’t listen to those who say, Oh you got the good kind of cancer. The actual fuck? Good cancer? Yes amputation of my boobs and ladycave being torn from my body, is good. Fuck off into traffic ya asshole fuck and stay there.

Stay true to you. To your heart. Your wants. Your needs. It’s imperative for your physical and mental health

This was more a bitch sesh.

Thanks for reading.

Thanks for supporting.

Love you guys and shit.