(REPRISE: 10 Years) Do You Remember The Time...

Ten years ago today. I'm pretty sure I roll this one out on Facebook every year, but this time, I'll re-post this one from 2014 as a Reprise. Funny how time seems to move so quickly and slowly, all at the same time. I have had several events remind me of how true that is. 

Today, for whatever stupid reason, I remember just about every single thing about the events of 10 years ago. Biopsy, lunch, some food shopping, and lots of news coverage about MJ. 

It was the beginning of "b.c." Before caner. The beginning of the end of life as we knew it.

This is also my birthday month. Ten years ago, after lump discovery, but before diagnosis, I was so happy to celebrate turning 40 with family and friends. And a couple of weeks ago, I enjoyed VERY much, turning 50 with family, friends and multiple celebrations. We were all celebrating not only the fact that, I am now eligible for my AARP card, but also that I can still be here. That we can still be together.  

Left turning 40 - 2009. Right turning 50 - 2019

I'm letting the birthday memories overtake the biopsy memories. May it remain so.


Do You Remember The Time...

Today.  Today marks five years since Michael Jackson passed away. Farrah Fawcett as well, but all you saw on TV was Michael Jackson. I remember this day well. Ok, not "well" but, rather, vividly. Because when I heard the news that the King Of Pop was dead, I was resting on the sofa, ice pack on my boob, really flipping the fuck out from having just had a biopsy.

It was the beginning of the shit hitting the fan in our life.

Although I do tend to Remember The Times through all the procedures and treatments, this particular one might have been forgotten...except for MJ. And Farrah.

Magic Bus....

This is just a brief bit of random rambling that's been in my head for years......

So, sometimes, I think we have to choose what sort of things are worthy of argument. Ya know? And for me, those things change with time. What once was not worthy of a heated discussion, now may very well be worthy of that and more.

So....Had a bit of a cancer scare in October. Had my first ever 3D mammogram.  Which led to the ultrasound.  And then the needle biopsy.  It wasn't cancer.  

December 2017

It was like 2009 all over again.  Sick feeling in the pit of my stomach.  All the memories of surgeries, chemo, baldness....and the way people attempted to comfort me.  One way in particular that really pissed me off and still does to this day is when someone tells you something along the lines of "You really should just try not to worry and stop wasting so much time and energy with being so upset. I mean, we're all going to die, eventually...one way or another...of something. You could get hit by a bus tomorrow..." And I just sit and smile.... 



Well, I did in 2009 - 2010, but pretty sure Imma have a whole bunch to say back if this kind of shit gets said to me ever again when I am being stressy about bc. 

Yes, the Magic Bus. The one you won't see and just step right out in front of.  Or the one that jumps up on your sidewalk.  

Yes, we all will die of something.  But having had breast cancer, you are kind of put on notice that the chance of it being sooner rather than later just increased. 

Just been on my mind again after the cancer scare. 

So I guess I'm just trying to say that, this kind of "advice" really doesn't do anything but trivialize my feelings and stressyness...and in my eyes, kinda makes you look like an asshole. 

Just sayin'.....

Too much, magic bus.  

I'm Super! Thanks For Asking!

How many times, when you ask someone how they're doing, do you really want to know how they are doing? Do you ask cause you really want to know, or is it just part of your greeting? And when people say they're doing fine/great/super, do you think they really are doing fine/great/super, or is their reply just an automatic response to a greeting?  

I used to do breast cancer so much differently.  In 2009, once I was able to stop crying and pull my shit together after getting the diagnosis, I had made up my mind that I was "tougher and WAY cooler than any stupid infiltrating ductal carcinoma", stage 3a.  And I put on my pink stuff and told any and everybody who would listen that I "HAD bc.  Past tense".  And that I have "already beaten it, cause my scans are clear!"

Oh how naive.  How naive and how unprepared I was.  

And for a couple of years, when someone would see me out and about, they would ask "How are you doing? How are you feeling?"  And regardless of how I was actually doing or feeling at the time, I would chirp "I'm GREAT! I'm kickin cancer's ass!" *Hug* "Thanks for asking! How are YOU?" And then sometimes the convo would go on about what was going on treatment wise, which I would riddle with jokes and sarcastic comments, sort of giving the finger to bc.  I tried to be as humorous as possible and appear to be the most courageous, bad ass, cancer ass kicker anyone had ever seen.  

*Insert eyeball roll here*

At least half of the time back then, if I had answered truthfully, I would have said that I was really terrified of the surgeries pending.  Or that I was totally upset that I'm bald.  And it wasn't until active treatment ended that it occurred to me that, bc people are never, ever really out of the woods. And I spent a good 2 years in a state of complete panic over the possibility of recurrence, or mets.  So during that time, if I had been honest, I would have expressed those thoughts, rather than "I'm great! *Insert # of years* cancer free (?!) and still kickin!"

*Insert eyeball roll here*

Why did I do this?

Because I didn't (still don't) think some people want to hear the horror story that is the new normal for a bc person.  And I'm pretty sure that if I had been 100% honest with everyone, all the time, some people would probably stop asking about how I am. Maybe even go the other way when they see me coming... 

I think it's because it makes people sad, or fearful when they hear someone with bc not doing the whole Pink *Rah Rah, I'm a Warrior! I Fight Like A Girl! I kick cancer's ass!*  stuff and then they just think that you're not doing it right.  You're supposed to be wearing a pink tutu and boa and shouting "C'mon cancer! Bring it on! I got this!"  

Whatever.  I can't do that shit anymore.  Haven't been able to in awhile.  

And here's another reason why...Honestly, some people don't know me well enough for me to have even wanted to be all full disclosure with them. But I no longer "chirp" the pink party line.  Just can't do it. 

So if I do say "I'm SUPER! Thanks for asking!", I actually mean it. 

"Don't you think I look cute in this hat?"

Do You Remember The Time...

Today.  Today marks five years since Michael Jackson passed away. Farrah Fawcett as well, but all you saw on TV was Michael Jackson. I remember this day well. Ok, not "well" but, rather, vividly. Because when I heard the news that the King Of Pop was dead, I was resting on the sofa, ice pack on my boob, really flipping the fuck out from having just had a biopsy.

It was the beginning of the shit hitting the fan in our life.

Although I do tend to Remember The Times through all the procedures and treatments, this particular one might have been forgotten...except for MJ. And Farrah.