Taking You Guys On A Trip Down Mindfuck Lane…

I’ve found and saved some amazing af photographs of New York front the 1800’s and shit. Incredible AF to look at – your brainholes will be smiling. And if you’re anything like me, which chances are you are a beautiful fucker [haaha — beautiful fucker, so not hurtful. Quite contrary, in fact], you’ll get lost in some of these.

Fucking, have you ever, in your lifetime imagined what sweet ole #NYC looked like before the concrete weeds. I have too many times. Especially having grown up in Jersey and having the city just a couple hours away. We’d take ferries to visit the Statue of Liberty. At the time, I had no idea my great grandmother, Nammie, who was still alive until my early teens, had actually entered Ellis Island via ship with her parents and two siblings – one of whom lived to be 99 years of age, having just passed a few years ago. So, at age three or so [idk, I’m so bad with facts and shit]. I’ll look at dates. Do my calculations and forget what the fuck I’m working on. Chemo Brain or Tara brain. This is all Tara brain compounded by chemo and the drugs taken during treatment. So Nammie and her family, escape Budapest in the late 1910’s. They settled and primarily stayed in Bernardsville, NJ. Another side note – You used to be able to see the Twin Towers from a road in Bernardsville, called Jacobs Ladder – google that badboy.

If you have a fascination for pictures of cities and shit in the 19th century, please drop a line and share your photos.

So, without further rambling and shit – fuck me dead, tara, ADD much – uh, yeah man. So much ADD’s. All of them. And CTSD – Current Traumatic Stress Disorder. Science. Bitch.

Legend has it, or I shall tell it as…When the Dutch people of the time had to take a mean ass liquor, gamey animal flesh, goddamned berry churning the intestines dump, eat and eventually pitching what would pass as shelter in 1654 [fucking 1654], they named their quaint lil path ‘Bouwerij’, the Dutch word for path, because it connected cattle farms to the outskirts (what is today) to Wall Street. <— And sidenote this foot food was to go below the Bowery ‘Neighborhood’ picture, but my dumb ass can’t figure how to complete this task on my device. And, fucking hell, I see some of my pictures don’t have captions and I left some off. Edits are afoot….

Apologies, It’s Been Awhile Since I Offered Valuable Advice

I’d like to remind you all about a few effortless activities that you can incorporate into your new daily routine to ensure your needs are met during this time of world turmoil; as demonstrated by Kiki.

Drink water
All the waters
nummy nutrients
It’s so tasty 😋
Take your time chewing, to avoid indigestion.
You can haz the grasses
All the greens 🥬
Curl up with a good book
Lay purrfectly still and breathe
All the sleeps, right meow
Ohm
img_7881
Lay down already and rest

Happy Caturday

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……

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.

 

 

When I Get Nervous……

I stick my hands under my armpits and then I smell them like this…. 

Ha! How I love Molly Shannon’s character Mary Katherine Gallagher!

Ya wanna know what cancer smells like kids?

It smells like fear, armpit and ass. Well the pit and ass may be me–It’s been days since I showered. No need to shave in the winter right ladies? Makeup is a moot point as anything applied to my face is instantly rinsed away with tears. And with this short hair who the fuck cares or knows if I’ve combed it today? A little dry shampoo goes a long way…..

Ya wanna know what cancer feels like kids? It feels like I’m going to puke.

That sick feeling has not left me since 11/19-when the biopsy was being performed. I feel those tumors weaving their menacing veins all while weighing my breast down. There is no telling what sort of evil has been done to the inside of my body. Fuck me. That’s a lot of time with my brain and boobs to think…..

Here I am 12 days away from Operation Tit Removal….How does one say goodbye to their #badboob?  This I will to need research a  bit more and report back to you guys.~~Rest assured folks, I will tell you all about it!

……Let alone recovery from breast removal–Currently there is an unfamiliar pain in my shoulder and neck….naturally emotional me thinks cancer has spread and I won’t be even be mobile by the evening~~not true~ I know it’s not attacked me that severely  yet….I’m hoping anyway. There’s no telling the damage done already. Fucking cancer, goddammit.

Here I am walking around smelling like fucking Pigpen in my cancer funk leaving the lovely scent fear and bile in my wake…..

Every step that damned cancer boob throbs, seriously December 22nd can not get here soon enough. Fuck off cancer.

12 more days of trying to be normal. Cleaning the walls, the bathrooms, the closets, the corners in the house. Those corners that haven’t been touched since we accidentally spilled milk back there three years ago. I know people will be visiting and shit. I don’t want you guys to be scared off by the ginormous dust fuckers that’ll great you at the door.

12 more days of trying to be normal. Trying to smile and have fun with five. 12 more days of walking the dog. 12 more days of playing outside, laughing, smiling, making sweet memories so five can think back and hopefully have fond memories of this Christmas.

And if I can get my shit together, hopefully I’ll pull myself together long enough and take a fucking shower.

#badboob

#badbadfuckingboob

Ermahgerd, It’s Cancer Bitch

If I didn’t know any better, I’d say I was pregnant.

Seriously. My boobs feel like ass~ all swollen and shit, chalk it up to the period right?  Ermergerhd…it’s cancer bitch.

fuck you cancer.
 double
triple fuck you
cancer

Fortunately Dr. Max of Wake Radiology acted with efficiency upon reading my mammogram results. His expertise and professionalism -given my no insurance situation-allowed him to act quickly. Connecting me to Dr. Tolnitch.

All too often some cancers can’t be removed, wreak havoc and totally destroy the lives of our loved ones. It’s brutal to watch. Don’t get me wrong~~~I am ever so grateful for my early cancer detection. fo sho. I know I’ll be getting off easy with this whole cancer situation. Logical me knows I’m going to ace this whole tit removal via double mastectomy. Emotional me wants to hibernate till the end of March.

I I have breast cancer. That’s why my body feels swole & off.  Had I not discovered that lump 26 days ago -I’d still be blissfully unaware of the fucker, that is cancer weaving it’s evil in me-I’d think that I put some of that 75 pounds back on. You are not getting skinny-fat Tara. This is fucking cancer Tara.

I will be walking around with the cancer eating my breast for another 16 days goddammit.

Eating my mind.

Robbing my thoughts.

Robbing memories that will never happen. 

peace, love & root-boot floats

 

#Badboob

#badbadfuckingboob

Mother Nature, You Whore

Alright girls, here’s another real life post for you–men, if you don’t want to hear about menstruation, swollen boobs and all the shit that goes with having a period, you may want to stop reading now. My feelings won’t be hurt. I’m a big girl.

This week my period started, right on time. All the crazy emotions and sensitivity that goes along with. Except this month, I know now I have breast cancer. Last month prior to menstruation, my breasts were incredibly sore, more so than usual~I’d even commented to my sis-in law, though I still had no reason for alarm.

Had I not been in-tune with with my body and discovered the lump (which we now know to be cancer) 25 days ago, I could be walking around completely oblivious to the tumors growing within. While my body is swollen with normal menstruation happenings- swollen boobs, soreness, bitchiness – I would still be unaware of the tumors. Ladies, exam yourselves.

Okay Tara we know you found a lump.
What did it feel like?
Why did you question it?
How did you know to get it tested?

The lump felt like an eraser head from a pencil. Sometimes we have cysts and shit growing in us especially after menstruation. But this lump, was hard, immovable and not supposed to be in my boob. That #badboob is still fucking grounded and won’t see the day of light till 12/22 upon removal.

peace, love & root-beer floats

#badboob

#badbadfuckingboob

Convo’s With Friends

I am spiritual without being religious.

If you can accept that, you accept me. And for that I thank you.

If not, well you may as well fuck off because we may never see eye-to-eye. No offense meant, but respect is a two-way avenue. I have no qualms with how you live your life,  I respect your beliefs. Why would you have difficulty accepting mine? With 7 billion people in the world, the chances of any two of us having the same set of beliefs, views, feelings, etc…….are fucking impossible.

We as humans have enough bullshit to sift through without our core beliefs coming into question.

I am optimistic. Wherein I believe our species, on the whole, are compassionate lot of fuckers.

Though recent events make us all question everything and open new dialogue with our children.

A friend mentioned unity. I like it.

We are united. Some of us are walking the cancer road together, some are walking the laid off road, some of us are walking road in hopes of finding their soul mate to walk that bend together.

I have unity

My United Stands With:

  • family
  • friends
  • a phenomenal surgical team
  • an infuckincredible support team
  • all the sweet angels and spirits in the universe
  • soon to be oncologists and the lot that go along with cancer treatment.

That energy is incredible!! Yes, I welcome and embrace your prayers, really I do. The vibes, candles are being felt as well. All the hugs are here at my screen. I have cancer. It’s a fact. (If you are reading this and have or have had cancer, damn.) Could be yours, but happens to be mine at the moment.So, e almost all have some sort of  carcinomas in our bodies– from various foods & environmental factors.

This breast cancer WILL BE GONE December 22nd. Then I will know what my course of treatment will be. That’s a big mindfuck too. There will one surgery to remove all those tumors.

peace, love & root-beer floats

 

 

Good Grief

This morning I awoke much the same as every morning……with that rude ass alarm clock buzzing in our fucking ears followed by a warm twitchy & squirmy five year old stumbling in with blankie in one hand and snoopy in the other to get his morning snuggles.

Since learning of my cancer 11 days ago, I have noticed a phenomenon in which I must wipe dried tears from my eyes, fucking cancer tears while I sleep, what a bastard.  I clean my eyes, put glasses on then going down stairs to mix my my double chocolate protein and blend into my coffee. Those damn tears of worry.

Again -Logical me knows I’m in good hands. Surgery will be a breeze. Blah blah-Emotional me is scared as fuck and a nervous fucking spazz. 

Wipe those dried tears Tara. Did I disturb/wake my husband during my fitful sleep–he needs his sleep too….I sit up stretch, kiss my husband goodbye….sob and sob and sob….uncontrollably big stupid cancer sobs. I know, I know it’s all normal and natural responses to an abnormal situation.

But fuck man, you’d think after 11 days of knowing this fucking beast that goes by the name of cancer is rapidly growing within me, I’d just be able to get up and go about life… not….that’s so not the case.

And while I’m not debilitated by depression, it has taken a huge chunk of my normal happy-go-fuck-yourself charm.

This is not the journey I thought I’d be taking when I turned 42 last 55 days ago.
This is not the journey I thought I’d be taking when I discovered my lump 24 days ago.
This is not the journey I thought I’d be taking when I had a diagnostic mammogram 15 days ago.
This is not the journey I thought I’d be taking when I heard my cancer diagnosis 11 days ago.
This is now the journey I must take. This is the road I must fucking walk, though not alone, never alone, for the next 18 days until my double mastectomy.

I will be walking this fucking cancer ridden road for 18 days. 18 more days kids! Then there will be a new set of worries such as treatment yadafuckinyada…..

peace, love & root beer floats

#Badboob

#badbadfuckingboob