I’ve Learned to Breathe…..

Like breathe, breathe…real full on exhales. You’d think at 43 I would have already mastered the art of breathing. But I’ve found out something, or rather made the connection; I am a shallow breather. I’ve usually been in a state of spazz…arms motioning wildly in circles while I speak, hunched over, trying to clean up shit all the time, all the hunches, moving on from one task to the next without any thought, just auto pilot….Anyway, participating in the LiveStrong program, I was taught how to inhale, exhale, and breathe. With this new living technique, I’ve been able to ween myself from daily advil and ultram. My neck and body was always in a knot — shallow breathing — with proper breathing I can pop out all the kinks and knots in my neck. I stand slightly taller, shoulders broader..no longer hunched…..I’m actually making an effort to control my breathing. I’ts been pretty fucking incredible the past week…Wow….breathing really does help. A fucking lot. It’s also helped my with the chronic bronchitis. My inhaler usage has almost been dropped in half! try it for yourself….breathe in and lift arms straight up, grab at the ceiling, exhale and bring arms down. Inhale, up, bend to left, bend to right….feel those pops…exhale. I’ll wait here, go ahead and repeat. As you find your comfort in stretching, you will notice a difference with your daily outlook.

While I remain fearful for our country; I am able to take solace in the fact I am gaining strength, both physically and mentally. I’m preparing myself in the event we need to flee. Bags and shit are being organized.

Seriously, we have no idea what tomorrow will bring. Most people I know are scared. Scared for their life, our country, our future. WE ARE THE PEOPLE. WE MUST ACT, TOGETHER. WE MUST PLAN TOGETHER to ensure our children inherit a happy earth.

And then what happens, if we do have to flee? All those sick receiving treatments will get all fucked up. I don’t think our species has ever had a smooth sailing moment, and that’s why we need to wake up. Wake up and take stock of the foods you ingest, your lack of activity, your tv time, media…take control of your body. Take control of your mind. Take control of your spirit.

A year ago I was laying in my bed. Had just received first chemo infusion and I was waiting. Waiting for the tears to stop. Waiting for my hair to fall out. Waiting for my body to shrink away to nothing. todayWaiting for me to become a shell of my former self. I waited and waited. I was sicker than sick. i was weak. I was puking. All the horrible things happened to me that I’d read about. Fucking cancer, seriously? So this time last year, I could barely hold my head up, much less walk around; I thought about all the stuff  I wanted to do and would do once I pushed through treatment. Today I am strong. Today I will conquer!

I think I have my shit figured out and boom, I learn something new. No one can really prepare you for a cancer diagnosis. If you’re lucky, you’ll have family around and they’ll stay…not leave when shit gets ugly, raw, and real…..With those few friends and family that chooses to stay you will gain your strength. You will be able to use your eyes and voice to spread awareness….I will not stop talking about my experience. Ever. My experience is still happening. Every day we grow and change. Fuck….speaking of changes~~~this fucking hair on my head. Last week it looked good. This weekend, not so much. Each day my head looks different. Hair is so weird, I’m officially over it.

Don’t think just because you cancer cut out and treatments that you are out of the woods for a reoccurrence. I had a crazy scare last week. Found a lump in my chest. Freaked the fuck out. Had it checked, was just a cyst! Whew! But my point is, you should never stop checking yourself and questioning those surprise lumps and bumps that may arise.

 

 

Advertisements

The One With No Boobs

Holy fuck me! I woke up in sooooooo much fucking pain today. Like first day of surgery pain, even though today is day eight since double mastectomy. [Some of you may be confused my by previous blog titles. I had both breasts removed. The whore filled with cancer and I sacrificed the other to prevent cancer recurrence & have to go through this fucking nightmare again.]

Yesterday I woke all bright & chipper & shit. I got my first post-cancer walk in with the boy & dog, played with my five and his trucks, had a wonderful visit from a friend & was able to get a glorious daytime nap cause hubby was able to get five midday. Felt great all night. Thought I was getting back to my old normal [snort] self.

Ah a handful of pain meds & protein infused coffee–should be situated shortly.

And is just me, or does everyone with a memory foam topper wake drenched in fucking sweat like a junky going through detox? Could be from the 80 pound dog laying on me too? On the other hand, I finally dropped that painkiller ladened deuce! My stomach is flat again! Yippeefuckingskippy!

I obtained my pathology report Monday. The cancer has been completely removed from my breast. Interestingly she told me there were two types they removed. Two different types of fucking cancer! Can you believe that shit?? She said it was ‘rare & bizarre[to those of you who read this on Fb yesterday, deal with it. Told ya I’d be blogging it too.] *emoticon snarky face*

I knew I had  invasive ductile carcinoma. What I find absofuckinlutely amazing is the second cancer removed, from same #badboob, called invasive lobular carcinoma wasn’t present on biopsy! Per pathology report, page 4 of 9, “…3 foci…Invasive lobular carcinoma were not present on prior core biopsy” Can you fucking believe that? They (and I) saw the tumors on the ultrasound on 11/19, but the cancer wasn’t even born yet? The fuck? Told ya at the beginning of my blog, that I was an ‘against the grain kinda girl’….more proof of that right here. 

Goddammit! That blows my fucking mind! Seriously, I caught that shit so fucking early. How is that even possible? I have no words for the feelings I’m feeling. I do know, had I not caught that lump, 11/10/15 [during sex], those two cancers would have fucked me the fuck up.

Goddammit. I feel lucky as fuck. For real. All tingly and miracley & shit.

Again, never having had a surgery before, I didn’t know what to expect. I thought I’d be all Frankensteiny & shit, not being able to move my arms. I actually have more mobility than I anticipated.

I thought I’d not be able to do anything. Reach out for a hug, reach for a glass, wipe the ole poop-chute, but none of those tasks were even a problem. I cannot reach high-like to hang clothes in the closet. I can not reach far-like to grab my damned charger that keeps falling off my bedside table. Other than that, I feel normal, sans boobs.

I did have my first look at my chest on Monday when she took the hospital dressing off. I was shocked, saddened, stunned, happy [Uhm Tara, why the fuck would you be happy] Uhm, no more cancer. My chest is still all sorts of black, blue, yellow & shit….it is not pretty….hell my non-boobed chest is stilll bigger than some of the chicks I know with a flat chest….I had a lot of boob to remove….and I have the expanders in….still not sure how I feel about them….let you know when I get my first pump up. The nurse did remove the drainage tube from the right side. Leftie’s drainage has lessened, so that tube should be coming out tomorrow.

Happy New Year kids! May you all be cancer free. xx