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. 

 

Advertisements

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-

Not Everyone Gets A Trophy In My House Boy….

Me to sweet babboo during our intensive Foosball game. Ha, he thinks I’m gonna let him win, nope he’s got to earn it. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not a hard ass. But I’m not going to let him win either….balance fuckers. We all need balance. 

And since I’m a Libra, I’m all about the balance. If you’ve seen my Fb or IG you may have noticed I’m all about those hashtags too.

When you’re going to start receiving chemo, you may have a bit of a freak out. I freaked the fuck out, bad. I cried every step in the infusion suite….But we know this is part of treatment. These toxins are to clear our bodies of any last remaining cancerous cells…

You’re going to be sick.
Sick as fuck.
You’ll be hungry, but can’t 
You’ll have to urinate, but can’t
You’ll want to sleep, but can’t
You’ll want to walk, but can’t
You’ll want to eat, but can’t
You’re going to be sick
Sick as fuck

For what seems like days, weeks, months, years…..when in reality it’s only been two and a half days….that’s how bad this shit fuck’s you up.

When I spit, I had to grab it with my hand…too weak to even rid my mouth of spit….

You think I exaggerate? Nope, not one lil deet. When you pee, you kinda let it drip (like the peens do) because you are too weak to even reach around and clean your pikachu….Yes, it’s that bad…no shit.

Forget ginger chews as the mouth sores rebel very quickly. Forget water, it hurts to swallow. I ate nerds. Boxes and Boxes of nerds…the big boy that’s a five serving…ha! One serving for me…yummy nerds.

It’s been 272 days since my bilateral mastectomy, and a few weeks since new tit exchange; you’d think at this point in the game I’d be able to look down at my self (my chest) and not cry, wrong…..When I shower, I do all I can to wash my fakeboobs in the quickest fashion. It’s so odd. Bizarre and sad. My boobs brought great enjoyment to me for many fucking years. Now I’m a clean slate. Still in my human skin, but a bit perky and nipple-less…Just the mere sight and I’m immediately reduced to tears. That gorgeous woman standing with me is Dr. Lisa Tolnitch of Carolina Breast Care; she saved my life December 22, 2015 by removing many tumors and two cancers from my left breast.

So those of you that have been here since day one, know I’ve bitched a lot. I also want you to know your bo,dies. Feel your boobs. Know your lumps, bumps…..I was unsure as to which direction I wanted to take this blog. Cause you know, cancer is gone, treatment is complete, new boobs in place….

We all know presecreening is essential to our health. Had I had a mammogram at 40, my cancer would have went undetected until my next mammo at 45….And while I did catch my cancers early on, there were still so many tumors a lumpectomy wasn’t an option for me….It may be for you.

Don’t let lack of insurance, fear of needle pricks or any other ism/excuse hold you back…if you find a lump, get that fucker checked out ASAP!!

K. Now for some goodshit…you know my pot of fucking gold……I thought my parting gift from the breast cancer game was fake tits…..wrong…..I’ll be one of ten featured models for Macy’s Model walk for strides against cancer! Yes you read that right! Me a model, for fuck sake!! So stoked to be a part of that. The models are encouraged to sell tickets and create a team…Team #badboob is currently in 18th position for The American Cancer Society, Greater Raleigh! So readers, boob feelers, friends I’m sharing my link with you here in hopes you’ll show some support be it monetary or sharing with your friends. I want Team #badboob to knock this #makingstridesagainstcancer walk so far outta the park. I know I can do it, with your help. Obv….

I‘ve raised over $235.00 this weekend…Not bad since the official American Cancer Society Making Strides Against Breast Cancer campaign hasn’t officially kicked off yet!
I’m asked to sell 4 seated tickets for family to watch my modeling gig….3 of the 4 have been purchased. If you’d like to help my family by purchasing that 4th seat, please submit $25.00 to my PayPal, firedaizey@gmail.com, monies will be turned into organizer during my fitting.

And….if anyone wants a #badboob shirt, let me know! We get free shipping on orders over 12!!
Donations For Team #badboob Here.

 

Those Fucking Root-Beer Floats

Kids, I’ve gained five pounds in the last 19 days. You’d think with a breast cancer diagnosis I’d have lost five pounds……The first few days upon learning of the diagnosis I literally could not eat…..The news was so earth shaking to me…..I thought I’d never bounce back, let alone how the news affected my family. But that is their story to tell, not mine.

So I’ve discovered beer floats, root-beer-beer floats specifically. If you know me, you know I love beer. If you are new to me, know that I love beer. Did you know some beers mix really fucking will with ice-cream? I know right! What a fanfuckingtastic idea of gluttony and delight.

I just ended a 30 year stand off with root-beer & finally succumbed to the sweet flavor; now I  can’t get enough of that shit. I think each float is 4000 calories, hence the five extra pounds on my gut–all my weight goes to my gut not my ass–

Five pounds may not be much on the grand scheme of shit but considering I worked so hard to drop so much….I dislike seeing the scale climb slightly higher each day….again kids, if I did not know I had cancerous tumors in my breast,  I would not have any idea…. I guess I’m bulking up so to speak for my upcoming double mastectomy in 10 days……10 fucking days and the cancer should be gone from my body!! I’ll probably lose a good 20 during surgery, once all breast tissue and shit is removed. I also know I’ll be all weak and shit. Thank you root-beer floats for giving me a little extra padding, I guess [what a crafty bitch].

Going to take my boobs out the beach for one last stroll along the sand….Seriously, it’s going to be a beautiful fucking day here in North Carolina. We are driving to coast, which is only about an hour and half from us. I’m going to soak up as much of the ocean air, sounds & good vibes as possible. Cause I’m still scared as fuck kids. But I do know I will be in good hands during surgery and warms arms after.

Mmmmm, Beer

It’s been 27 days since I found that unassuming lump in my breast, fuck you cancer, goddammit –hmm, can you tell I may be slightly bitter about losing my boobs. I realize the cancer is only in one boob and choice to remove both is completely mine~but seriously ladies if given the choice, to remove both boobs or just cancer tit? Let’s do both and squelch any surprise returns from cancer trying to steal that second boob.

Boom. In 15 days I’ll be prepped for surgery. Again, normal everyday shit for these superhuman people who’ve dedicated themselves to the betterment of their fellow human. Goddammit, yay on you guys! I love you, really! Here doctors are fighting cancer’s and and bad shit in our bodies and I’m trying to eradicate assholism. Their work may be a bit more important at the mo…

Why did I develop cancer?
Environmental Factors
Hereditary Factors
Self-Induced Human Actions

 

Deodorants

 

Bra under wires

 

Diet

I’ve been a beer drinking vegetarian for over 20 years. Most of my foods are non-gmo’s, healthy & full of grains and shit. And the beer, well that’s protein & fortified….considered to be a completely balanced meal by many of my drunken Scott/Irish ancestors….and it’s not my liver, it’s my breast.

  • Again, I’m not angry at the world or the big guy some of you are so fondly of, I understand shit happens in life. No woe is me shit. I have cancer am and coming to grips with it. I also have a miserable fucking case of utter-sads & shit. I’m still in the adjustment period of the cancer news 14 days ago. Shit happens. Life is good at times. Life can be cunt-punched at others.
  • So cancer, where did you come from? Why did you attack my boob? Thank you for attacking my boob and sparing a child- robbing their childhood because of cancer…..So, given that perspective, I’d much rather lose a couple of boobs if a little guy is spared his time and can enjoy being a child just a moment longer.
  • Once the tumors are analyzed, my family and I will have more answers-as the hows & why’s.
  • Thank you for reading this and shit. [And I know I need help with flow and cohesion and shit, I’m open to you editor/grammar-nazi’s to give me a few pointers.] *Also looking for one of my bril graphic designer friends help me with a badboob logo.
  • peace, love & root-beer floats
  • #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

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

Hey Cancer, Suck My Cock

Now, now kids before you get your britches in a bunch, I do not personally have my own cock. I did however sell Passion Parties and have an impressive inventory of the phallic nature in my closet~~girls if you want a cute lil toy for yourself, please let me know. I need to sell it all the dongs in my closet. 

Now onto my original thoughts…..

Ah yes, cancer sucking my cock.

What a relentless crafty bastard cancer is. Affecting kids, men & women, old and young~anyone and everyone. Double, triple fuck you cancer.

Cancer

Cancer

Cancer

(marcia, marcia, marcia)

It’s funny I don’t feel sick. Well, I do feel sick. But not physically. Very much so in the emotional sense. Not depressed. Well slightly given the circumstances of holidays and all.

I feel sickened knowing the cancer will thrive in me for the next 19 days. Who knows how much damage those tumors will do inside my body? We won’t until the doctor performs my double mastectomy. She’ll then run some immediate tests (those who know names, please tell me, could not find on google search.) 

I feel sickened cancer is robbing of me of joyous smiles with my five year old. Oh we still laugh, fart on each other, out burp each other, but it’s a somber fun…..that guilt will leave. I know I’m allowed to feel this way or however the fuck I want. Trying not to let it affect the sweet pumpkin head snuggling in my arm at the mo.

19 days

Off to walk the dog kids and enjoy the sunshine.

Thank fuck Xanax.

peace, love and root beer floats

#badboob

#badbadfuckingboob