MISTAKES WERE MADE

Posted on May 16, 2016 by badboobandshit under alopecia, badboob, beer, bilateral mastectomy, bills, biopsy, blog, bravery, Breast Cancer, breast cancer awareness, breast reduction, breath, breathe, Cancer, cancer free, cancer is a whore, cbc, celexia, chemo, chemo cold caps, chemo port, chemotherapy, christmas, concern, depression, double mastectomy, drain bulb, early dectection, emotions, environmental, exchange surgery, expanders, facts of life,family, feel yourself, fighter, finances, fml, freaking out, friends, friendship, fuck cancer, fuck you, generosity, gift, grief, guilt, hair loss, happiness, health, hero, heroic, holidays, hope,hormone replacement therapy, hospital, hysterectomy, implants, Invasive ductile carcinoma,invasive lobular carcinoma, journey, kicking cancers ass, life, life changing, life sucks, love,lysol, mammogram, mark up, mastectomy, menstruation, mindfuck, motivation, nerves,nervous, nipples, Oncotype DX, period, plastic surgeon, post op, presents, proceeds, raw, real life, recovery, sacred, scared, smile, snoopy, spirit, strength, strong, suck it cancer, surgeon,surgery, survivor, suture, tamoxifen, testing, titanium marker, tits, tumors, Uncategorized,viral, warrior, weight, xanax

Oh yes they were.

Fucking you think you have your shit together [well, I never really thought I had my shit together, but I’ve got comfy blankets and built the facade blankie fort]. You live the with diagnosis and medical treatments. The poking, the prodding, all modesty has been tossed aside when your chest has become the focus for many–clearing the cancer then the reconstruction of the breasts….life has adjusted, as well as it can considering, cause you know fucking cancer and loss of boobs at 42. You look straight ahead, try to hold your head high when all you want to do it hide.

But hey, your oncologist prescribes a shitton of chemo/cancer meds. You’re sedated, you live, you learn, you laugh, you cry & cry & cry & cry until you think your tear ducts have actually dried the fuck up….Oh but no. There are more tears, there are always more tears. The tears that fall in the shower. The tears that escape while hugging someone. The tears of pride when seeing your spouse and child playing together. The tears of life.

You may get used to your new life, but you may never like it. Well, I don’t like it. Obv, I’m glad I have my life. Obv, I’m glad I’m not sitting here with six apple sized tumors in my tit at the mo. But,  but what would life be for me today, had I not discovered those little pea sized fucking lumps?

They say our experiences shape us and prepare us for what’s ahead….what the fuck am I being groomed for? I do hope to make a positive impact in the breast cancer community. Whether it be by counsel or friendship. You don’t have to be alone. You shouldn’t be alone. 

Life may be easier if we were easier on ourselves, if I were easier on myself. If I loved myself more. If I laughed more. If I forgave myself more. Who the fuck knows. I feel, the majority of us mean well, but we are too goddamned harsh on ourselves and selfish. I am learning to love and forgive myself a bit easier. I’m beginning to surround myself with positively radiant souls whom I adore with all my heart. I’m tired of being tired, sad & sick. I want energy, levity & longevity.

Last chemo-infusion is Friday gang!! Did you hear me?? Just a few more days and my last dose of chemo will course through my veins fucking up absolutely everything inside and outside my body. Then, I can begin to wean myself from the pharma-cocktail I’ve been taking for months. I will be able to look toward the exchange surgery and know that is my reward for having successfully kicked cancer’s ass to the curb! Last week was a pretty good week, this week should be fucking great too. Next week, well not so much. I’ll take up residence on the loo with my trash can. I’ll sweat out toxins in my sleep. I’ll feel as if I’m going insane within my mind. And just when I don’t think I can handle anymore and am ready to toss in the proverbial towel…the chemo fog will lift. I will see the world with clear eyes and sharp mind again. And I will once again thank everyone who called, cooked, prayed and loved me when I could’t love myself,

Be kind to yourself.