So this is the thing...
I'm tired of talking about cancer. And maybe you're tired of me talking about cancer. And lord knows I wish I wasn't talking about cancer. But I have to talk about cancer.
I find it therapeutic.
I find it on my mind a lot (DUH. The short hair and 50 ft long scar and lack of breast is kind of a tough reminder to ignore)
I'm sure there will be a time when I wont think about it all the time but it's now a part of me.
It was a part of me 8 years ago too but more so now.
Because when you get the damn disease twice you're kind of thinking that, you know, it's a part of your story.
Is it going to define me?
I doubt it. I like to think I have other things that will define me.
Mother of the year I'm sure is one of them because DH and both boys were gone all weekend.
Yes, did you hear me? BOTH BOYS! AND DH! I had the house to myself (along with wonderful golden doodle).
And what did I do when they left?
No lie, I danced around the house. #Motheroftheyear.
Then I did a yoga DVD and cleaned.
I did retail therapy and got a massage.
The massage part may sound all relaxing and zen but when you're 49 and an arthritic mess- not so much. Plus massage therapist extraordinaire (See how I did that C? A compliment and a blog mention all in one) he does a deep tissue massage and if you've never had one it's not the kind where you're falling asleep listening to ocean waves. It's more like you're sucking in your breath because the pain in your neck or back or hip flexor (a word I'm all too familiar with) or wherever the knot is (for the record; I'm one giant knot) is excruciating but you know that this pressure he is applying will make you feel better. When that is we just aren't so sure of because 24 hours later I'm lying here with ibuprofen. My neck does move better at least.
Bottom line if you want a deep tissue massage (and why wouldn't you after the thought of screaming out in pain while lying face down into a donut hole listening to acoustic sunrise) Call me.
Oh did I mention that afterwards he has a bowl of candy that contains bullseyes?
BONUS!
I digress.
The 48 hours I thought I would be dancing through has left me cursing cancer.
I'm on a new drug to help prevent the cancer from returning.
I was on Tamoxifen for 5 years after the first bout to do the same thing so you can see how good a job that one did.
This is a different one but my headaches for the last 10 days have been excruciating not to mention what a total bitch I feel like. (Hmm, maybe I'm just blaming that on the meds??)
Yup, 10 days in and 1815 more to go. This should be a breeze.
So you can see why I can't stop thinking of cancer.
You can see why it's part of my life.
You can see why I may go into a funk and want to be left alone or why I just crave to be on a beach for the rest of eternity.
You can see why sometimes I say I'm fine but it's only because what else am I going to tell you as I pass you in the produce aisle or in the school parking lot?
I'm not lying. It's just easier to tell you I'm fine.
And many a days I am fine. And even possibly at that minute you ask me it's not a lie.
And in a year I'll look back on this post and remember how I felt sick to my stomach that I have to have this be part of my story but it is.
And so, I talk about it.
Or really I blog about it.
Thanks for listening village peeps.
I really wish there was a delete button.
I'm tired of talking about cancer. And maybe you're tired of me talking about cancer. And lord knows I wish I wasn't talking about cancer. But I have to talk about cancer.
I find it therapeutic.
I find it on my mind a lot (DUH. The short hair and 50 ft long scar and lack of breast is kind of a tough reminder to ignore)
I'm sure there will be a time when I wont think about it all the time but it's now a part of me.
It was a part of me 8 years ago too but more so now.
Because when you get the damn disease twice you're kind of thinking that, you know, it's a part of your story.
Is it going to define me?
I doubt it. I like to think I have other things that will define me.
Mother of the year I'm sure is one of them because DH and both boys were gone all weekend.
Yes, did you hear me? BOTH BOYS! AND DH! I had the house to myself (along with wonderful golden doodle).
And what did I do when they left?
No lie, I danced around the house. #Motheroftheyear.
Then I did a yoga DVD and cleaned.
I did retail therapy and got a massage.
The massage part may sound all relaxing and zen but when you're 49 and an arthritic mess- not so much. Plus massage therapist extraordinaire (See how I did that C? A compliment and a blog mention all in one) he does a deep tissue massage and if you've never had one it's not the kind where you're falling asleep listening to ocean waves. It's more like you're sucking in your breath because the pain in your neck or back or hip flexor (a word I'm all too familiar with) or wherever the knot is (for the record; I'm one giant knot) is excruciating but you know that this pressure he is applying will make you feel better. When that is we just aren't so sure of because 24 hours later I'm lying here with ibuprofen. My neck does move better at least.
Bottom line if you want a deep tissue massage (and why wouldn't you after the thought of screaming out in pain while lying face down into a donut hole listening to acoustic sunrise) Call me.
Oh did I mention that afterwards he has a bowl of candy that contains bullseyes?
BONUS!
I digress.
The 48 hours I thought I would be dancing through has left me cursing cancer.
I'm on a new drug to help prevent the cancer from returning.
I was on Tamoxifen for 5 years after the first bout to do the same thing so you can see how good a job that one did.
This is a different one but my headaches for the last 10 days have been excruciating not to mention what a total bitch I feel like. (Hmm, maybe I'm just blaming that on the meds??)
Yup, 10 days in and 1815 more to go. This should be a breeze.
So you can see why I can't stop thinking of cancer.
You can see why it's part of my life.
You can see why I may go into a funk and want to be left alone or why I just crave to be on a beach for the rest of eternity.
You can see why sometimes I say I'm fine but it's only because what else am I going to tell you as I pass you in the produce aisle or in the school parking lot?
I'm not lying. It's just easier to tell you I'm fine.
And many a days I am fine. And even possibly at that minute you ask me it's not a lie.
And in a year I'll look back on this post and remember how I felt sick to my stomach that I have to have this be part of my story but it is.
And so, I talk about it.
Or really I blog about it.
Thanks for listening village peeps.
I really wish there was a delete button.
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