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. 

Self Compassion

View at Medium.com

“how would you respond if your [partner / parent / child / friend] had the same health problem as you — would you be angry at them or regard them as pathetic for not coping?”

The answer is always one of compassion and empathy.

https://medium.com/pain-talks/self-compassion-the-essential-prescription-in-living-with-long-term-illness-

It’s Been One Year Since You’ve Been

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

Dear OG Boobs –

It’s been one year today 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

1st Post Mastecto Selfie 12/12/15

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 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.

Crying Won’t Help You, Praying Will Do No Good

I used to yell at inanimate objects. Granted I still yell at shit, but not with chaotic rage as before…If I stubbed my toe, I’d yell at the wall. If I spilled shit, I’d yell at it. Lots of shit. Lots of yelling. You know the phrase don’t sweat the small stuff? Most of the shit that gets us down is small stuff. Lots of small shit rolled into one big fucking giant dung ball.

Like all the fucking time….grocery bag handle rips because I’m carrying 18 bags…stupid motherfucker…..laundry basket is in my way….goddammit….all the shit….all the yelling….us

It’s been a little over a year since I discovered that cancerous tumor that led me to the diagnostic mammogram….leading to an ultra sound….leading to the biopsy….all within the same day….How concerned should I be doctor Max, very concerned was his reply….Thus #badboob was born. At that time, I had no idea that bitch boob was hosting two different cancers and six tumors…..motherfucking tits.

For all intent purposes, my cancer is gone. Treatment is complete. Reconstruction is finished. So I should feel good, right?  Wrong. I’m far from alright. Breast Cancer has fucked me up far beyond belief. I’m trying to form my feelings into words. There are no words I can put here for you to read for you to understand how breast cancer affected me and the millions of women battling breast cancer and amputation of your tits. It fucks each person up their own way. Some can bounce back. I’ve never really been one to let shit  get me down…..but this…..this is so hard to overcome.

I’m not pleased with reconstruction results. Like seriously, not happy. I knew I’d never have ‘tits’ again. Although the boob like shapes sticking our from my body add to my ‘normal’ appearance.  But, they are cold and implants are too large on my frame, still having to hoist them up to relieve back pain, they are uneven. I am crushed. After this ride, I’d like to look in the mirror with out tears streaming down my face. My breathing speeds up. My heart jumps into my throat and I literally feel as if I could explode internally. I feel as if I’m literally drowning. Will I always feel like this? I feel the answer should be no.

So many things I could do before chemo that I can’t do with ease today. Brush my teeth, reach my arm behind my back, I use slip on shoes so I don’t have to tie. The neuropathy is fucking crazy. The shakes are hardcore, feels as if I’ve got early Parkinson’s or some shit.

Don’t sweat the small stuff…….it’s all small shit

You Have Grandpa Hair Mommy.

Gee thanks kid.

Yes gang, my head does resemble that of a grandpa’s head, sort of…. Really am so happy the shit is finally growing back in! After over four months of being bald and hairless, it’s quite a relief. And I can actually grab a bit with my fingers too!! But….mother-what-the-fuck-my brows and lashes have almost all shed this week. I now have less brows than when I was going through chemo. The fuck? I’ve put a call into my onco for answers. It may be normal. It may be meds. IDK. I do know I’m not pleased with this new development.

One week and a day from today I will be checking into the hospital [at 5 fucking 15 am]!! The new tits will be installed. Old, useless and potentially deadly equipment will be removed. [read….no more crotch bleeding ]I should be good as new…. and with awesome new bewbs ….

  1. They’ll never slide into my armpits when I lay down.
  2. I won’t have to hold when running, they won’t knock me out while jumping
  3. I’ll no longer be able to tuck into my pants,
  4. No longer be able to wrap around my neck to keep my warm on the cold winter nights
  5. Will not need a bra…Will not need a bra….Will not need a bra!! [been wearing those bitches since I was 12. Have permanent grooves dug into my shoulders from those boulder holders]

My physical strength has returned, mentally I’m still a bit mushy; one day at a fucking time kids. It’s been great. Running, playing, jumping and getting all our sillies out with my Sweet Babboo. That sweet child has been through a lot in his five years of life, loss of a younger brother, mommy with breast cancer. I try to tell him everyday how happy I am he chose us to be his mommy and daddy.

Just the other day Babboo had all his kitty cat beanies lined up playing school. The mommy kitty said she was sick. Kitties at school asking mama cat why she was sick. I heard him reply, in his mama cat voice, that she had breast cancer…. Fuck. My heart swelled and dropped at the same time. But those baby kitties rallied around their mommy, taped her up and kept telling her they loved her… What a sweet imagination.
He sees me. He sees my strength. He sees our love.
He’s going to be OK.

It’s not been roses everyday. It has not…. Maybe decaying, rotting in water roses…. It’s been fucking hard some days. Yeah, yeah, everyone’s life is tough. Everyone’s life is rough…. Everyone is faced with challenges. This I know, but remember this is my space and place. Perhaps if some quit sticking your nose where it shouldn’t belong, you’ll quit smelling shit….Seriously, we are faced with enough bullshit in our everyday lives. Let’s quit fucking with each other, fuckers. 

Recently, I’ve felt a renewed clarity. This a new and amazing feeling for me.

Next week, I’ll be in recovery mode again for a few weeks. Shit, it’s taken me almost seven months to regain my pre-mastectomy strength. During that time I was undergoing chemo, hence the delay in feeling ‘like myself’.

No chemo this time. Just recovery.
No worries if cancer has spread this time. Just recovery.
No more being scared out of my fucking mind. Just recovery.

While I’m still pissed as fuck at the lump I discovered 243 days ago and I will probably always say ‘fuck cancer’. Always have said ‘fuck cancer’ so why should I stop saying it now? I’m not as angry. I still have my life, family and support system, which has been vital to my full recovery.  That’s what it all about, family. Right? I sincerely mean all the thank you’s to everyone. All who’ve sent messages, gifs, gifts, food, wishes, what have ya….I appreciate it all. I know I was freaking out in the beginning with my diagnosis. Thanks for sticking with me to see how this unfolds.

One week from today. One fucking week! This is one of my final steps in becoming a breast cancer thriver…. I love that term. Not only are we survivors, but we’re also thriving in the shit hole of life. 

Much love and all the feels to you guys.

xx