Still Making Strides

Just dropping a few pictures and shit. Missed you guys and shit. Can’t wait to hear all about your goodness and badness in life.

So many updates to come. Hope all have been well.

#Younited

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Menopause – The Ceasing Of Menstruation

BRCA1 and BRCA2 mutation positive…..fucking mutation positive…humans are a vile mutation on this planet. Humans are continually fucking up this planet with all their evil doings.

Medicinal advancements can now detect some human mutations and remove those body parts that could become infested with more cancers. I tested positive with the BRCA2 mutative gene. I chose to have a complete hysterectomy in an effort to escape ovarian cancer…..Let’s hope scientists will release the cancer cures we know they’ve been sitting on instead of letting [wo]mankind wallow in continual suffering……..

Most women begin their menopausal journey somewhere in their late 40’s. Other women, such as myself, go through a forced menopause overnight when their organs are extracted from their body in one quick, less than an hour, out patient surgery. Really. They can do that shit before lunch. Fucking insane.

It’s been just over a year since I went in for my hysterectomy and implant exchange surgery….. They bandage you up, send you home and you’re left to weep and sweat on your own for the next year. And fucking weep I have done. I’ve never felt so dark in my entire life. Even with a supportive family and friends…..so fucking dark….so fucking blue…no light…no hope of happiness…badboob.pngusually I would muster through shit, because I never really had a choice….it had to be done…but this time, the depression has overtaken my entire being. Everything I’ve known or felt has come into question.


Post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) is an anxiety disorder that can be brought on by a traumatic event. PTSD can happen after a life-threatening situation, such as a breast cancer diagnosis or cancer recurrence. PTSD can affect your ability to cope with life’s daily chores and inconveniences and make it difficult to function.


It’s real.

Real AF.

I used to think it was a crock of shit. I now realize it’s so not the case. It’s really important to surround yourself with all the love and support you can handle. There is no lonelier feeling than to face this heinous disease feeling alone. You’re going to act batshit crazy, emotional…all of it…you’re literally losing your tits. You’re going to say and do things that others won’t understand.

Crying. So much fucking crying. Wake up crying. Go to sleep crying. In the car crying. In the shower crying. Walking the dog crying. Talking to doctors crying. All of it. All the fucking time. How do you explain the irrational tears when others tell you your sick and shit? No fuck….I feel fucking sick. Then this life. The news. The sickness. The hate in the world. Friends lost to this horrific disease…It’s all just too much…..There is no way to fully explain. No way to explain without seeming like a blubbering idiot. Other women, survivors, hystosisters, they get it…..So the tears are wiped and a quote brave face replete with blood shot eyes is put on and you carry on with dinner and other household tasks. One day you realize you’ve only cried twice or not at all….

One day you realize you actually enjoyed yourself again. One day you had real smiles instead of those smiled suffocated by tears…. Take those small victories and make them big celebrations. Because they are in fact big celebrations! xx

As I mentioned in a previous post, they recommended a five year hormone therapy treatment for me once they completed my hysterectomy.   Upon doing my homework, I found out long term use of the HRT prevents breast cancer and causes heart disease…..Seeing as how I already have had breast cancer and don’t wish for my heart to become further diseased, I opted not to follow that regimen prescribed by my oncologist; instead looking for ways to up my nutritional intake. The hot flashes are no fucking joke. Without warning I’m completely drenched in sweat. Without warning I’m completely fucking freezing. Sweating. Freezing. So goes my night. Covers on. Covers off. Pillow flipped…..

She’s concerned…
What if I have a re-occurrence of breast cancer?
What the fuck if I do?
It could occur with the HRT or without.
At least without, I’ll have fewer health issues to contend with when given the cancer diagnosis; again. 

 

Spoiler Alert

This is a breast cancer blog, there’s a good chance there’ll be talk of breasts….what cancer did to me, to other women, the mourning of my original set of nat-geo tits, the adjustment of my new ones, the expansion and everyfuckinthing in between.

I’ll wait, go ahead click that arrow back key. No hurt feelings and shit. Just fucking leave and don’t cause trouble. I’ve had enough of that shit in my life.

And as I’ve mentioned in past rants/posts if a breast cancer diagnosis brought you here, that fucking sucks.

Go ahead, grab yourself something to drink. I’ll wait, I have the time. You’re going to need the space and place to vent. This is your safe place. For real. When I was first diagnosed I blogged every thought I had. I felt compelled.

Others go into hiding. Others turn to their god of choice. How ever you choose to deal with your cancer….do not stop talking. DO NOT APOLOGIZE FOR ANY OF YOUR FEELINGS.

I spent a good portion of my cancer days apologizing to people who did not understand my words, my thoughts. How can I explain it to you if I don’t even know myself?

 I see now, way after the fucking fact, that I was justified in my manic thinking. Completely. Do you hear me? Do you understand??? DO NOT APOLOGIZE FOR WHO YOU ARE. It’s how you cope. It’s who you are. It’s gotten you this far in life and it will help you survive those scary ass dark days of chemo and radiation. 

I was overwhelmed with love, compassion, support, gifts, food, money…..all of it. I’m so very grateful for each and every ounce of love. All of it.

When you’re swallowing handfuls of pills each day just to stay alive, you have no idea which end is up, if there is even an up. It’s mentally dibilitating. You don’t know when you’ll see the sun shine. You don’t know if you’ll ever be able to smile again. You are truly in survival mode…..you seriously do not need negative fucking Nelly’s in your life. No offense to any Nelly’s out there.

It’s your cancer. Your treatment. You must advocate for yourself. Stand firm to your core beliefs.  I’ve met so many amazing people through this blog, I already new I had an amazing network of support via my family and social media.

If you’re not 100 percent on board with your medical teams decisions….go seek a second opinion!! Fucking do it. Last thing you need to do is kick yourself later. It’s a slow climb back up and there have been some major fucking set backs…..but ya know what??? I’m better than fucking ever! You will be too. I just know it! How do you know #badboob? I know it because you are here. This blog is not for the squeamish. This blog is for the realists in life. We’ve been shit and continue to clean ourselves off, usually coming out better.

 I say fuck cancer on a daily basis, when I look in mirror….everyday when I look at my reconstructed chest….everyday when I think of the sisters, women, and mother figure taken from my life…..still can’t look without tears. I say fuck cancer everyday, but I can still be inspirational as fuck. You are too. I fucking love you.

I’ve been invited to speak of my experience. Imagine that.  Me speaking……haha yes my talks are void of my usual colorful language. Speaking of your cancer ordeal and bringing a room to tears with your story. Powerful af. You’ll always have support with me, even when it feels as if no one else loves your bloated ass chemo body or radiated burnt skin……you’ll always be able to find sisters who love you for you and don’t want you to change. You’ll never need to apologize with me. I know. I understand.

 

Just The Facts Ma’am

Fact: Cancer fucking sucks
Fact: I survived it
Fact: Surround yourself with positivity an unconditional love
Fact: No amount of Google research can prepare you for any of the shit that will happen to your body and mind.
Fact: There is someone who understands where you are, where you’re going, and they are willing to talk to you. Many survivors become advocates after their fight, they are waiting for you to tap their conscious with your story and touch your heart with their compassion.

What cancer does to the human race is infuckinhumane. Fucking shit needs to stop, like now. So many kids with cancer, seriously? So many new cancer diagnosis’s. Souls taken away from us. It’s all too much…..this is when my mind goes into the dark, and dwells.

I’m working on improving my mind. Ya know what? When you keep replaying events in your head like a loop, it slowly takes you into a dark place. Obv, if given the opportunity to go through breast cancer now, I’d change a fuckton of things I did/said. Some of that shit still haunts me now. I’d also expected different behaviors from certain folks as they probably expected different from me……breast cancer, chemo, treatment, recovery…..all that shit wreaks havoc……but alas, I can only change my ways and my self. I’m so not the woman I was when diagnosed with breast cancer some 601 days ago. Fuck, I’m not even the same woman I was a few months ago. Life goes on……

A year ago I was still suffering with the pain of my breast tissue expanders, crazy chemo port [it was always angry. skin always red and irritated]. So many doctor visits. Pokes. Questions. Fuck the questions. Always the same shit for all the nurses then regurgitate for the doctors…..I couldn’t even think straight, but knew my dates meds and shit like that, didn’t know what I was. Didn’t feel human. None of the shit happening to me, my family was humane. Not one fucking bit.

Anyhoo, here I sit. Getting active in various programs, discovering what type of advocacy work I like and would like to pursue further. Talking with friends. Talking, bei

ng the key. You can’t keep that shit in.  Thanking you all for all your help and support during my bout with breast cancer. Talking with those newly diagnosed. Laughing with warriors over all the inappropriate we need to….just to get by. Others won’t understand. It’s when you stop trying to get others to ‘get you’ will you be able to feel free…..something I learned after the fact……

Today Will Be Better

*I began this post in December, put in hold, updated a bit, held again….

Ripped from me, stitched and sewn and told I’m gonna ‘alright’.

Dear OG Boobs –

It’s been almost two years since you’ve been amputated from my chest. One of you fuckers had two motherfucking cancers, the other, well you were just a casualty of the cancer. Sorry rightie, I had to sacrifice you in the name of cancer. Sometimes you have to do something, even when you don’t want to or never thought you’d have to do, in the name of health. I lived with the knowledge of cancer growing in my tit for 29 days. I freaked the fuck out all 29 days. Every second, minute, hour, all of it was in freak out mode. 

We all know what happens when cancer is left untreated. I can’t even imagine the horrible shape

I’d be in today had I not acted upon the lump in my tit. Had I not bent over at the time to feel that malicious lump, I may have never found it. Had I not been extremely intimate with my body, that lump could have went undetected. I totally feel I escaped something, what? I’m not sure, death perhaps. There have been doctors, testing, unclear test results, poking, sewing, the whole shebang has been done to my body this past year. 

So goodbye cancer tit. I’ll remember all the good times we’ve had. All those warm nights, cozy shirts, crazy cold days, the back aches, the lopsided nipples mocking me…..goodbye tits

 

So here I sit. Type. To you one year later.

And kids, I’ve been cancer free for over a year!

One fucking year of being CANCER FREE!!

Even though I’m cancer free, (as far as I know. not been tested again), I still worry every bump or sore spot that forms in nooks and crannies of my bones could be cancer. Silly I know. But it’s a common reaction, so I have read. Talk about scared, the ulcerative laryngitis I just recovered from, I was certain I’d need another surgery to remove those ulcers. Nope. Thank fuck. They cleared up with meds.

I understand that ‘reconstruction’ means to redo….I knew my boobs would be redone. Obv…They were gone. But I really had no idea the extent of odd discomfort from these Monitor High Profile’s…..The cold. Ermahgerd….fuck me…I’m so cold…..So imagine a nipple freeze if you will. Then remove nipple and whole boob is cold. In the shower the other day, I was freezing. Fucking winter time. So hot water is on full blast, my arms are crossed under my boobs, the hot water is pooling and turning cold….instantly…That’s a big mindfuck. Don’t know if you recall how clumsy I’ve mentioned I am. Still surprised I’ve not popped them while falling up the stairs {cry smile emoji}.

This time of year is usually a bit more difficult for most. Take a moment to extend a smile, your hand. You never know what will transpire from your act of kindness. Not only will you feel better. If you’re like me, you’re trying to be a better person than you were the day before….keep striving to be decent. So you are working on your own journey, while possible helping another one out…..without even knowing it. Unless you guys strike up a convo and become bff’s or some shit.

I’ve not forgotten about all who helped me this time last year. I saved all your guyz’s addresses and shit. I planned to send cards. But slacker.

Most importantly, trust your gut. Stick to your values, don’t let others sway you. Don’t let others snuff your light. Not all will understand your point of view, but it is yours…. Reach out for help. All your feelings, thoughts, and concerns are valid post cancer. Others, who’ve not had cancer, may not understand…..they will try to silence you, your thoughts, and monitor your every move……THIS IS YOUR LIFE. Appreciate those you have. Know their worth. Know your value. 

Breast Cancer Do’s and Don’ts 

Will be publishing a series of articles that are extremely helpful in dealing with your own cancer or someone you love.
6. Don’t mention your friend’s, dad’s, aunt’s, or your own disease (unless it really relates).

We’re sorry that your friend had a disease that is somewhat tangentially related to our disease. It’s great that your dad beat it, and we’re delighted that your aunt cured her disease with oleander tea. However, we just don’t want to hear about it. Yes, this is the way the people relate to one another. However, chances are each cancer patient is unique and doesn’t want to be dumped into a box with all the other people you know who have cancer. Or worse, we don’t want to have to explain to you how our life-changing procedure was not, in fact, similar to your minor appendectomy.

View story at Medium.com

It Is What It Is

Fuck that shit. I used to subscribe to that notion, shrug my shoulders and continue on….Now, I know, it is what I make it.

And recently have I been working it. From all the angles, meeting all the people, the networking, the bartering for events; so out of my comfort zone. Or was it? IDk…kinda loving the volunteer work. I’m super spastic, some may refer to me as ‘passionate’.

The thing they don’t tell you about life after cancer is how to live. Fuck most don’t know how to live pre-cancer. We are one fucked up lot of bottom feeders. There’s more out there, I’ve seen it. I talked to it and spent time there as a child….

So Tara, your cancer was removed 514 days ago, why are you still carrying on? Well, I’ll tell you why…..cause you’re listening.  So there.

It has been almost a year since my last #chemo infusion. My hair is growing, toxic gut has subsided; but…..But…there’s always a motherfucking but…. The collateral effects from chemo are sooooooooo much worse than I ever imagined. When I first heard chemo can stay with you 5-7 years post treatment, I thought yay right-what a crock of shit. Oh no dear readers, it’s just as bad as they tell you, maybe worse; cause very few go into all the nitty-gritties.

If you’ve read any posts, you know that I’m not really a worrier and just go with the flow. So, I’d been going with the flow of a sore wrist, for over a year…..Turns out I have a severe case of degenerative bone disease, osteoarthritis is the technical term and shit. Take care of yourselves. Had I had my wrist looked at when I first noticed the pain, burning pain, throbbing pain; I may not have had to have it casted. But it is what it is right? Wrong…been looking for wrist guards, compression sleeves and other healing methods to get use of my wrist back. I’ve also developed bone degeneration in my lower lumbar…butt bone…and it hurts like hell.

The past couple of weeks, I noticed I’ve been so ovariemotional….the fuck is wrong with me? Why all this crying? Why the doubts? I’d spent five months building myself back up, going great distances. Hello GMA and WTVD. I finally realized why I was so down again, and trust me, it only took less than a week to fall back into bad mental habits; I’ve not been working out. I’m still using the TRX and Ultimate pull-up, with difficulties. But not working out the way I have been. They way I learned to live again during the LiveStrong program. Oh and still trying to find #JalenFromCapitalOne.

I’ve started feeling lethargic and flabby again, shut up, I know I’m not really flabby, but not feeling totally fit.  Once I made that connection, you best bet I began working up a sweat again.  And know that I know I have a real condition going on, I’ve been more gentle on myself. Cooking has been quite difficult, resulting in more purchases with the restaurants…with money we don’t have…..See the cycle here folks. Those who know, understand.

Post chemo, my body stays cold. I used to see those little old ladies wrapped up like they’re in the arctic when it’s hot as balls outside. Guess what, I’m wrapped. Pants, socks, hoods, hats, long sleeves, give me all the sleeves.  I discovered an awesome NC company called Freakers USA, the best socks and bottle holders…the bottle holder act as great compression for your wrist.

Any my brain, holy fuck. Chemo did a big number in my head. I see information but don’t comprehend or digest it. My brain has like no short term memory….at all. So if we speak, and I ask you again what we just talked about; be kind.
Once I gain footing again, I’ll be able to pay it forward financially, currently all I can do is offer my hand, my ear, myself…I’m making this bitch called life, mine.

 

 

Feel Good Af

So this happened yesterday…..like ermerfuckingerd….I knew something was up when I get a messenger request from Amber Rupinta-Ferro from ABC11 WTVD….hey Tara she says, can you come into the studio for a #mothersday segment, oh and bring the flowers that #Jalen from Capital One sent you….uhm yes….omfw I say!!

Mother’s Day Surprise

News Segment

Moving on,  I lost my mother 31 years ago at the age of 12, to something that could have been avoided; had she made better choices. In life. With herself. For the wellbeing of her children. ffs

Needlesss to say, I’ve always been conflicted when the Halmark holiday rolls around, seriously shouldn’t you love, honor, and respect your mother every fucking day; not because the industry dictates you should….right?!?
Earlier in the week, talking with #JalenFromCapitalOne, I mentioned loss of my mother, breast cancer, and all the good shit that’s been happening recently. #MakingStrides advocating like a mofo.

While, I’d been searching for something I could never quite grasp. I see now that I’ve been surrounded by love the whole time, albeit most of it virtually. cliche af, but true. You fuckers and lovelies have given me the boost i needed when down, allowed me a pity party. I realize now, I’m important. I realize now that I am worthy of happiness. You can’t control the fucked up shit your parents do to you.

You can’t control the shit ass decisions they make that ultimately lead to an overdose of heroin….but you can control your happiness, your life, and your successes!

Unfortunately I’ve made my share of shit ass decisions, I see now there’s a better way. But that shit’s totally not getting handed to me either. You’ve got to speak for yourself. Because, there’re fuckers in your life, your close circle who wish to see you fail. Don’t ask me why, just know it’s true. And it sucks.

Fuck them. Live for yourself. Speak your truths

Simple Tasks Are No Longer Simple

I know I’ve mentioned  how horrible chemotherapy is and was. How it still haunts my mind and bones…I’m still discovering new collateral effects daily. –Remember, my posts aren’t for sympathy. Just a matter of life. My new life. My new normal. 

I feel good. Really good with the direction I’m headed. I see lots of great shit. I will make an impact in the fight against cancer. I’ve already begun doing so.

    I struggle, as we all do. I struggle with a new guilt. A survivors guilt. When I first heard the words “you have breast cancer” I immediately thought the worst. And while I did feel like I was dying the five months during chemo treatments and eights months of breast reconstruction via expansion of my chest muscles….it depleted me….broken…..I was worn the fuck out to the point of total exhaustion….I managed to open my eyes….drowning….reaching for the top…trying to grab something tangable to keep me going….darkness….suffocating on toxic shit running through my veins…..Everyday was a struggle just to be…let alone the naysayers because they took issue with my life story…seriously?? How fucking large is your ego you feel you must impose your morals upon me…on your suffering friend… We see how you’re living…karma… that beautiful magnficent beast she is…last..laugh….. People judging me….judging you as they shove their faces full of McDonald’s fried My choices on my breast cancer. Running their fucking mouths, instead of trying to help me, my family, my mental health. I didn’t think I was worthy….beating me down even more… Even harder and more detrimental to my health as theses were supposed loved ones. Who cared  about me. Fuck the fuck off. You readers, who’ve experienced shit like this, I know it sucks. But you must seriously cast those bastards off, now.

     Your body is toxic, let’s keep your mind as clear as possible. No one on chemo should have to deal with that sort of fuckery…from anyone…
    I’m thriving. Like really fucking thriving in a way never before. And there are some, brave, courageous people out there, here reading, that are terminal. I know I didn’t inflict the cancer. Nor did I cast spells and shit on them.  

    I’ve watched too many friends, those I care and admire so much make that transition because cancer wouldn’t lossen it’s fucking grip. goddammit. It’s heartbreaking watching them finalizing their lives; ready for the unknown. I applaud the grace and beauty of which they all possess and reflect to me, to us. You are my drive, you feul my passion. I love the fuck out of each and everyone suffering from cancer….stop the madness.

    And then for those complaing ass pansy wipes bitching about an ingrown nail, or I’m bored with your goddamned  duck lips, or need a prayer for your loose colon….or your sneezing…we all have fucking allergies….get up, get outside, get involved with something other than yourself and trivialities.

    I’ve always felt like I wasn’t important, no one would recall who I was, worthless, afraid to really use my voice and speak for myself.  I see now, I’d never been given the life tool of learning self love, worth, value…. I had to learn that shit my own way. It took forever. I’m fit mentally and physically. Though I still see myself as a big person, I know I’m not. It’s hard for me see how small I am. So many negative worthless thoughts fill my head…more importantly so much of that bad shit is already gone. We all know that mental training is never ending. 

    And for those currently in active treatment, silently cussing me. Because fuck you bitch, I just had a chemo infusion this week and I can barely read your blog let alone imagine feeling good and fuck your cute self bouncing around and

    bragging about your new improved wellbeing while I’m sitting here chemo gut, thin bruised skin, mouth sores…..trust me I know. I was there. I hated those feel good posts everyone tagged me in. I mean I liked them. But is made me sad, a longing for something I had… It takes absofuckinlutely everything from you. I also know that if you’re here, it’s intential and you have that drive! You want to thrive. And you will. I promise. One day, you will smile. It’ll be a real smile. You won’t be able to control yourself. I’m doing things now that I never dreamed! 

    Becoming involved with, actively participating and making an impact in my community and beyond is important to me. I know I can’t save you guys. But if only a few read this and get screened for cancer….well then my efforts have been rewarded; thank you.
    Like ermahfuckinderg guys…