Blurred Lines

So here's a little "We need to know this WHY??" kind of post. But here goes...

I have not been to an eye doctor in quite a long time. A long, long time. Well before my diagnosis in 2009. I know that's not very smart. I know that it's very irresponsible of me. I have a fear of the eye doctor. All doctors. Someone mentioned that breast cancer can metastasize to the eye. It's rare, but can happen. I dunno if it's true or not. It probably is. And no, I don't want to hear your story about your friend/sister/cousin/aunt who had it happen to her. Sorry to be harsh, but no. And please don't comment or email me a list of symptoms to look for...cause then I will surely have every single damn one of them. Remember, I AM the Master of Psychosomatics. Ok? So just don't.

Anyway, reading small print has been getting increasingly difficult. But I have had success with just holding the thing I'm reading as far away from my eyes as possible, bringing the print back into focus. But the thing is, it appears that my arms just aren't long enough anymore. Great. All I can see are blurry lines.

Being afraid of the eye doctor, but tired of misreading stuff, I figure I'll just pop on over to the drug store and grab myself a pair of reading glasses. I found a nice kiosk that has a little "eye test" of sorts where you look through this thing and turn a dial, and the lowest setting you can read the print is the strength of readers you should use. Lucky me, I only need the weakest ones, the 1.00's.

I tried them out all around the store! Hey! I can totally read anything now! Yay! I get them home and text O, who is out on a shoot. He asked me to text him a pic of me wearing them so he can see. So I grabbed the phone, put on the glasses, made a goofy face and took the picture and sent it. He texts back that I look like "Alex from Orange Is The New Black".

I dunno so much about that, but I do love Laura Prepon, who plays Alex Vause on OITNB. Loved her on "That 70s Show" too. I think she's very attractive. So I definitely took it as a compliment. 

And I think O needs to get his eyes checked too. LOL!

I dunno...

Fall On Your Knees...

I did. I totally did. And it hurt.

A couple of weeks ago, it had been a cold, rainy, just dreary day. We were expecting sleet and snow. And the sleet was just starting, the sun was setting, and our stupid recycling bin was still out on the curb. So, I decided I'd just trot out there real quick and grab it and put it back in the garage. Easy peasy.

So I slide on these ballet flat shoes and head out into the ran/sleet mixture. O says "Don't run!" I like running and jogging, like across the parking lot, or up the stairs in an auditorium. It makes me feel good and boosts my confidence in my health. Sick people don't run, or jog, or trot. Right? So, whenever I get the chance, I trot, at the very least.

But anyway, I give him the ol "pssh, whatever" and proceed to run down our curved driveway. And then it happened. My right ankle twisted and the slick bottomed ballet flat shoes slipped right out from under me.  

My knees hit the pavement first, followed by the bottom of my hands, right above the wrists. Which hurt like a bitch. And why the fuck does everything hurt so much more when you're freezing fucking cold? Anyway, from there, realizing that my wrists weren't even gonna stop the momentum, I just balled up and ended up doing a perfect barrel roll down the driveway. At which point, without missing a beat, I jumped right up, did a fast walk to the recycling bin, retrieved it, and fast walked it back to the garage where O was standing there, shaking his head. "I told you not to run!" he says... "Oh shut up you!"

It happened so fast. Like, not even 2 seconds. But as it was happening, it seemed like it was in slow motion. And I just KNEW every single damn neighbor just so happened to be looking out of their windows and laughing their asses off. 

Oh good lord it was embarrassing. The only thing missing were the neighbors holding up score cards. Suzie Q gives the maneuver an 8.4, John Q a 7.6, Billy Bob a 9.5...

My hands didn't suffer any damage, but my knees were scraped to shit. Hello peroxide and Neosporin. And a big goddamn bandage on both knees. Only after the bandages were on did I realize I would soon, very soon, regret the fact that I just don't care to shave my legs in the winter. (TMI. Oh well. lol!)

2 weeks later, still ouchy

Here we are, two weeks later and my knees still hurt like a sonofabitch if I have to get down on one, like to tie a shoe. I had occasion to have to sit on a hard floor the other day. No biggie, until I put my left knee down to get up. Nope. That was a baaaaaad idea. 

But in a positive light, having osteopenia, I feel like this was a good test of my bones. Didn't break anything. Only injured my pride.

Livin la vida Luna... LOLOLOL!

Our tiny snowman with holly berry eyes =)

All Your Money Won't Another Minute Buy...

 A rambling musing here. And I dunno if my thoughts on this are popular or unpopular, and I guess I might lose a subscriber or three, but here we go.

We've all heard something along these lines:

"They (whoever 'they' are) HAVE the cure for (breast) cancer, but won't put it out there cause there's just too much money being made in the cancer business..."

Right?

Yeah. I'm guilty of saying that, too.  But that was the "bc" Luna. "Before cancer" Luna. For years before I entered cancerland, I, and very indignantly too, bought into that line of thinking. I even boldly said as much right to my oncologists face. And his response was certain, matter of fact, and immediate. Not even a pause. He's heard that for years. He doesn't believe it's true. He HOPES the cure is finally discovered. He won't mind practicing in another area of medicine. Or sticking around and happily prescribing "the cure" to any and all. 

Steve Jobs Photo Credit: ABC News

And if you really, really think about it, if there was a real cure, doesn't everyone have a price? How many famous, rich and super wealthy people have died from cancer? Not just talking about breast cancer, but just fuckin' cancer! Really, if it was curable, wouldn't Farrah Fawcett still be alive? Or Patrick Swayze? Elizabeth Edwards? Linda McCartney? 
Steve Jobs??!! All the money that guy had, all the fame, all that genius...could he not have secretly bought this cure for himself and still be with us today, cranking out the latest and greatest in technology? I bet he was one that could keep a secret. 

And wouldn't the cure for cancer be expensive enough, that "they" could continue to make their big, big money off of it? 

Or, another way to think about it....Whoever DOES bring the cure for cancer is gonna be one rich, rich, uber famous mofo person. A bonafide hero, really.  Who wouldn't want to go down in history as the person/company/entity that cured fucking cancer? 

Eh, just some rambling thoughts running around my head, as I'm reading things here, hearing things there. 

No. In my opinion, there is no secret cure that's being kept from us. Especially for breast cancer, at least. I think breast cancer is just so complex, so many different diseases, that we just aren't there yet. We're getting closer, that much is evident. But still no cure. 

Damnit!

Funny How I Find Myself....

Blogging less and less....I know....I keep saying on Facebook that new, fresh blogs are coming, and then....nuthin.  

I've asked myself, how much do you...
Commit yourself?

Gonna ramble here a bit....

Maybe it's because there are so many, many great writers out there in the blogosphere (REAL writers with talent...you know, those who have actually published stuff and had features in HuffPo and stuff...) who just pretty much are reading my mind.  So I just share those posts.  I plan to add my own thoughts, but then stuff happens in the Real World, and then a topic becomes stale, and then it just never comes out. Like a post I did that will probably never see the light of day about that asshat doctor who thinks "cancer is the best way to die". Sure, I did a very ranty, profanity laden, tongue in cheek post, but by the time I got it finished....yeah....just kinda too past due. (And when O read it, he warned me to brace myself for suggestions of getting some anger management, if I do post it..lol...)

And once you've taken a big, fat blogging break, it's so hard to get back into it. Well, for me, anyway. 

I'd tell myself, what good do you do...
Convince myself.....

Another reason?  Although this blog is not only about my experience with breast cancer, it is mostly about my experience with breast cancer.  And these days, thankfully...SO thankfully...there's just not much to report. Except if I want to write about the residual anxiety and PTSD. Again. And again... Ahhh, such is life, post treatment, now that I only see the oncologist annually. Nothing much to report, but a whole shit load of anxiety from time to time. But mostly was about my total meltdown over having to lose my hair, thus the one post that does seem to help people, the Hair Regrowth Timeline. 

What not in the mood looks like

Here's the thing... I just have to be in the mood to get down to writing. And for several reasons, none of them cancer related, I just plain ol haven't been in the mood.  As a result, I'm learning that when it comes to writing, it's a use it or lose it type of thing.  Not that I've ever fancied myself an actual writer, one with any real talent. This blog simply started off as a CarePage to keep my family and friends apprised of my treatment and how things were going in cancerland, without having to write tons of emails and make tons of calls. 

It's My Life...

I've been told that my blog used to be much more humorous...that readers used to laugh more when reading posts from years ago.  Like when I would post about how difficult it is for O and I to grab a bite to eat sometimes...we call it "food fail", or "the Of Course factor". Have I lost my sense of humor? I hope not.  Maybe I used to be more open about things going on in our life.  And maybe there's just not a whole lot of happenings of interest to readers of the blog lately. I'm not a celebrity or anything. Who really gives a fuck that this or that happened while I was out and about doing this or that...Eh, maybe I'm running out of fucks to give about stuff, thus, less ranting about non cancer things.  

Maybe it's because I don't want to worry people that I know read my words. And then call me up, all kinds of concerned. And give all kinds of advice on how I'm dealing with this or that. (Another post for another time.) And then maybe it's because some people are super weary of my non brave, less than happy, anti pink attitude about having had this bc fucker. Like those who say "No doubt it will come back, as much as you worry and keep it on your mind! You are DONE girl! Get Happy!!" Yes, this, and worse, has been said straight to my face. Or maybe I just don't want to hear it from those who think just being positive is going to keep cancer away or from coming back... 

Funny how I blind myself....

I really did try to be that "pink, ass kicking bc warrior" type in the very beginning. It was the only thing I knew about breast cancer then. Oh yes, I flanked myself in that ribbon...the one that is the shade of Pepto Bismol. But then the light bulb came on when a dear friend, years out from a teeny, tiny, stage 1 breast cancer, double mastectomy, clear margins for miles, and aggressive chemo, turned up with metastasis to the lung. Fuck the pink rah-rah. (My friend is NED - "No Evidence of Disease" for years now, I'm super happy to say. Oh, and she's one of the most positive and caring people I've ever met.) I am not criticizing anyone who likes the pink, or the warrior language...I'm really not. I don't tell people how to "do" their cancer and don't like people telling me how I should handle mine. Whatever works for you, do that. All that pink and fighter/warrior stuff just isn't for me at this point of things. (Again, another post, or maybe a re-post, for another time.)

Of course I am so thankful for every day that I continue to be NED. I think lately I have been hesitant to do posts about non breast cancer stuff, or the fun stuff, or my gratitude for still being here almost six years later, when so many are still dying of breast cancer, and yet, there STILL is not nearly enough being done about it.  I dunno...  

And maybe writing just isn't working so much for me anymore lately. Or maybe it's just the time of year, when I tend to stay inside, out of the cold as much as possible, and cook comfort food and eat too much. Who wants to hear about that boring shit? LOL!

But, hopefully, with this post, and some very interesting times on the horizon, the LunaTech just might be back at it.