I’m Going To Die, If Not Today; Then Yesterday.

Or the fucking year before that in the future. Sometime. The actual fuck is going on in the world rn? Goddamn.

Watching the expeditiously fucking fast rate this Covid19 is spreading is very much unsettling. At the time of drafting this post, the number of identified cases have shot up damn near 100,000. And half those are in the Boroughs of New York City. We are not prepared. This much is evident.

I’ve been actively tracking this virus for almost 70 days.  64 days ago [1/24/20], it arrived in Raleigh. Then, unbeknownst or in spite of the flu and pneumonia shots I’d received prior to the start of ‘cold season’ [The fuck season is this? Death season?], I began deathly ill with the ‘flu’. It lasted from 1/29/20-3/2/20.  And when I tell you I was dragging myself around with weakness or vomiting so goddamned much thought I’d loose my small intestine. I had death in me. I cried. I pleaded. It was heinous af. Felt like I was balls deep into chemo again. I literally – Not hyperbole tara speak – literally dragged my body up the stairs. Napped halfway thru an continued my drag to the bed. Still sitting, head resting on bed. Ffs.

Now, knowing what I know….I’m sure I had the Coronavirus in my body. I know it. The time frames align and shit. But, seeing as I did not have insurance, I did not  go to the doctor. I self treated. And trust me, Monday the 3rd, if I was still sick I was going to get seen. But, had I been seen, I would have been checked for flu – it may or may have come back positive. But the Covid19 test wasn’t even a real glimmer…so I would have been treated for a ‘mysterious illness’. – All my hypothesizing and shit.

For the love of fuck people, #staythefuckhome. When the news and numbers and real ness overwhelms your brain holes, put the damned device down, get off your ass and do something for yourself in your own space. Make it comfy. Relaxing. Chaotically beautiful. You decide. You act. Put #humanityforward and reach out to someone during this time of self isolation, offer your resources. Be responsible with your research and your sources – This is not a goddamned hoax, it’s real af. The hoax is in the truth they hide.

It’s just the matter of days before my family is infected with the sickness. We’ve all been laid off  now, for almost two weeks. I’m going to die. If not today, then yesterday. I’ll be reading your name online in the obits, or you will reading my name. Life is a whore.

 

I’m Going To Die. If Not Today, Then Yesterday.

Or the fucking year before that in the future. Sometime. The actual fuck is going on in the world rn? Goddamn.

Watching the expeditiously fucking fast rate this Covid19 is spreading is very much unsettling. At the time of drafting this post, the number of identified cases have shot up damn near 100,000. And half those are in the Boroughs of New York City. We are not prepared. This much is evident.

I’ve been actively tracking this virus for almost 70 days.  64 days ago [1/24/20], it arrived in Raleigh. Then, unbeknownst or in spite of the flu and pneumonia shots I’d received prior to the start of ‘cold season’ [The fuck season is this? Death season?], I began deathly ill with the ‘flu’. It lasted from 1/29/20-3/2/20.  And when I tell you I was dragging myself around with weakness or vomiting so goddamned much thought I’d loose my small intestine. I had death in me. I cried. I pleaded. It was heinous af. Felt like I was balls deep into chemo again. I literally – Not hyperbole tara speak – literally dragged my body up the stairs. Napped halfway thru an continued my drag to the bed. Still sitting, head resting on bed. Ffs.

Now, knowing what I know….I’m sure I had the Coronavirus in my body. I know it. The time frames align and shit. But, seeing as I did not have insurance, I did not  go to the doctor. I self treated. And trust me, Monday the 3rd, if I was still sick I was going to get seen. But, had I been seen, I would have been checked for flu – it may or may have come back positive. But the Covid19 test wasn’t even a real glimmer…so I would have been treated for a ‘mysterious illness’. – All my hypothesizing and shit.

For the love of fuck people, #staythefuckhome. When the news and numbers and real ness overwhelms your brain holes, put the damned device down, get off your ass and do something for yourself in your own space. Make it comfy. Relaxing. Chaotically beautiful. You decide. You act. Put #humanityforward and reach out to someone during this time of self isolation, offer your resources. Be responsible with your research and your sources – This is not a goddamned hoax, it’s real af. The hoax is in the truth they hide.

It’s just the matter of days before my family is infected with the sickness. We’ve all been laid off  now, for almost two weeks. I’m going to die. If not today, then yesterday. I’ll be reading your name online in the obits, or you will reading my name. Life is a whore.

 

Current Traumatic Stress Disorder

As mentioned before, I equate life to a dog shit covered floor and I’m trying to keep my boots as clean as possible. Cleaned dog shit off anything recently? It’s a nasty task.

You hear folks talking about PTSD, how many conversations touch on CTSD [current traumatic stress disorder]? I’ve hear zero IRL. Once on a show – You’re The Worst <— if you need something to watch during the quarantine, check it out. Best. Show. Ever. Seriously, think about it – we’re all currently experiencing stress. Albeit, some stressors are greater than others. But. We stress nonetheless.

Deep breathing. Exhale. Why do I always forget the exhale? Other after chemo livers with crazy ass bone pains? All the stretches. All the breathes. None of the exhales. Breathe bitch breathe.

So I had the flu in January – the 22nd – 26th – to be exact. Can’t recall if I’d already mentioned it to you guys or not. Did not get seen for it as I was able to manage it pretty well at home. Though, was going in for fluids had I still been sick that following Monday. Because of my past health issues, I received both the flu and pneumonia shot before the season began. And got sick af anyway….did I have an early undetected case what’s currently coursing through our entire worlds population? Having been watching and discussing the growth of this virus with my 23, we knew it was going to be big and we weren’t getting all the truth – we know not to freak out. We began preparing, as a family, before the ‘hype’ so to speak. Typing this, I am suffering a head old. First sign of fever, I’m getting checked. No joke. I know so many of my survivor sisters have weakened immunities such as mine; may you be safe.

Also, I’ve been working from home for almost 10 years, so my job won’t really be impacted. <- looking for the poz here. Plus, my 3rd grader has been enrolled in the Virtual Academy [not homeschool] since the start of this academic year, so his schooling will not be affected. No doubt, our lives will be impacted. But, we must remain calm in the home for 9’s sake. Right now, there are so many people with fears and emotions heightened, I offer my calm to you. I offer my love to you. I offer my compassion to you. I offer my ear to you. I offer my bony shoulder to you. We must remain kind to each other. We must reach out to our neighbors in need. Love, Light and Guidance – Tara

The Soothing AF Sound Of Kiki Drinking

I like sounds.

But am ok in silence as well.

Spending the first half of my life just trying to numb myself to all the bullshitery that I was wading through, I grew accustomed to having no thoughts. Legit – like no thoughts – at all. My brainholes are obliviously just carrying on all empty an shit, like it’s the norm. Like a simple.

I tend to find joy in most areas of my life, despite/in spite of my past. And our lil Kikaroo came to join our family when I was finished with treatment. We needed another cat. Always had fuzzy little asses sashaying up and down our hallways. Hell, my Mr. Mojo Risin’ lived to be 22!!

Listening to Kiki slurp ‘her’ water [YouTube link and shit], makes me happy af. I wanted to share that happy. She’s our school time kitty and was taking a much needed hydration break after attacking the strings and chasing the sun. All the strings. All the sunbeams.

A Glimpse Into The Day Of A Virtual School Attendee

I wrote a letter to our local paper asking them to showcase my sweet baboo’s success in the virtual school environment.

Much to my delight, I received a reply and they wanted to run letter, in it’s entirety; typo’s and all. The NCVA hasn’t been a chunk of pie by any means, there’s been yelling – lots of yelling – tears – lots of tears – mine and his – but overall, my child is growing and flourishing on his level. Couldn’t be prouder and so grateful to have educational options for our children. 

 

 

 

Why Wasn’t I Informed Of This Crucial Information?

Why was this critical information needed to be as informed as possible never disclosed to me when I was diagnosed with Breast cancer?
 
I did not receive theFDA Breast Implant Complicatons patient packaging. Only the boujee #mentor registery laminate card? I’m in a lot of pain Breast Implants by Mentor – would love a call to inform and update you all on my post implantation life.

Where In The Lemony Fuckin Snicket Is…

My goddamned Apple Pencil? Fucks sake….Looking everywhere I can in my work/office/zone-out space…ah, that sneaky bastardized pencil was atop the iPad the entire time. Not even lying. <— drafted Sunday, 2/16/20 <— here I am again Monday, 2/18/20 and have misplaced that sneaky fucker again. Really contemplating purchasing an app I just googled. It supposedly finds your Bluetooth devices and shit….hmmm. Anyone have experience with this sort pencil/glasses/life loss?  Speaking of Lemony Snicet…have you seen/rewatched Series Of Unfortunate Events…ermagerd.

Have you noticed your brain/body slipping more post chemo or since you’ve been diagnosed and going crazy with stories from friends, new meds and all that fucking terminology that means your tits/tit’s are/is going to be chopped and thrown away?

Seriously, feeling all swooshy like I’m losing it some days. I spend time just spacing and zoning/trying to will that pain away -bitch. The weighted blanket is amazing for the hug relief I need to bring my arms close to my chest to pop all the bones/ligaments/tendons — AH. Where is everything? My mind? My glasses? My phone? Oh and seriously a Mr. Magoo when the glasses are off. FML even harder. And they – those fucksticks say a lot – but they say I’m not a candidate for contacts at this point because of the astigmatisms and bifocals….LASIK?

People who have a family history of peripheral neuropathy are more likely to develop the disorder. <— thanks for the sentences health md or some shit. But yeah, this shit is totally true. I recall watching my aunt suffer for years. Other family members as well. Ah the red tape of paperwork – isn’t it grand and shit, eh?

And to end this tonight —> I need help. Local help. Please and thank you. Several things, but first item is helping me upload and post clothes that I’ve worn and grown away from for what ever reason or another. I have tons of stuff. Going through chemotherapy your body is all sorts of fuckered up. Now, along with the multi skeletal pain, I’ve pretty severe fibromyalgia and don’t know what will really fit and feel proper through the day….Usually end up in my too big in the everything, comfy af pants. But…..I have the staging area, index cards for the text/dialogue and shit, just don’t have the motivation; or mental/pain threshold for this daunting activity. I know someone’s wiling to help. Perhaps your child needs volunteer hours? Or even an elderly loved one who’d like a new friend. I’m super chatting and will supply all the coffee needed for the job.

I’m posting these clothes [many designer pieces] for my #badboob explant and furthering my medical care and supervision. Also…..Also….I’ve quite a few wigs and the such for you all going through treatment [free] plus shipping.

They’re foreign in my body and way fucking me and my brain up. I saw your comments Peggy P,, about your cold friend. And while the implants look nice enough, I’m always fucking cold as well. What most folks don’t know once your nerves are cut, severed and reconstructed like mine and millions of others…is that once the implant is inserted and your incisions heal; the nerves never reconnect. So you have these ne’er to do 5lb memory gel implants hanging of your chest and they’re literally fucking ice packs. I’m layers. All the layers. All the time. Always cold.

Cold hands

Warm heart

So, local friends, if you’ve got some time or know someone with some time -> hmu -> text me -> 919-986-986-9986 -> or email -> badboobandshit@gmail.com. I’m absofuckinlutely serious about this task and would like to begin ASAP. I’ll make it worth the while and time. For sure and shit. Xx

Indulge Me, If You Will…

How do you manage your chronic pain?

Being a lifelong asthma haver [called chronic bronchitis as adult], I know how to try to manage my shit. And my story differs from the average Jane/Joe, which will be further elaborated upon in various chunketts of words I type out. And always with the typos, I am.

Having always felt like I’m in survival mode and a non traditionalist in this world, my self soothing ideas may not always work. I do all the yogas. All the stretches. Some relief. Laying flat helps, I can massage out my intestinal tract, which helps the air, which produces the burps. All the burps. Lol. Deep guttural burps. Though, I have been able to burp on command. A trick I learned while a kid doing nothing but running a small town street in Jersey…I digress

Yoga, stretching, walking, reading, living are all things I do in attempts to get relief as I wait patiently to get things squared away so I can get the bone and body scans my onco would like me to have the four year point; especially since I opted not to take the HRT…..breathe in, breathe out.

Lmk how you unwind your body, mind and soul.