eatthefrostingfirst

Countdown is on. T-7 to new breast day. To flatter abs. To days on a morphine pump To drugs to mask the pain and to sleeping off the surgery. Drugs, Flat Abs and Rest. Maybe it wont be so bad after all? And did I mention 3 -5 days in the hospital? Maybe I will have a view of the Charles and it will seem like a mini vacation. But probably not. What I am learning through all of this is that cancer...it's a process. A really long one. And I know that I wont forever be "Abby the cancer girl" but I will be "Abby, the girl who had cancer" Someone said to me the other day "You are here. You are alive. You should feel blessed". Blessed and cancer do not belong in the same breath. There is no blessing from having cancer. Not a one. Sure it's changed me. And maybe some for the better but I think I would've been for the better without the cancer so a blessing? Not so much. My blessings are my kids (when youngest isn't yell

Chatting with a friend the other day who asked:  "Why do bad things happen to good people? You should blog about that" I told her Harold S. Kushner beat me to it but here's my spin. When I have my weekly pity parties in the middle of the night I often contemplate the obvious; why me? I'm kinda done with having the other shoe that keeps dropping because after all; I only have two feet. DH and I have been happily married for 17 years. We are decent and good people (even though he is a Yankee Fan living in Red Sox nation and brainwashed my child at an old age to follow suit) (and I don't go to temple)  but you know; decent and good. Yet, the other shoe? It comes down in buckets. (If shoes could come down in buckets) I don't walk around feeling sorry for myself (I did reserve the right to do that however, through all of 2017) but I'm kind of done. And what I don't understand is when I watch the news about women killing their children in ovens and p

Hello 1:17AM We meet again. I'm starting to think you are stalking me as this is the third time this week we've seen each other. At the 10pm hour, DH and I said good night and before I could even think if I shut off the oven after making the Banana bread, he was snoring.  Oh to have the non worries of a male. Somehow the oven worry (which of course I went downstairs to check) turned into how yummy my banana bread really is. I need to lose weight. I hate feeling so overweight. Tomorrow I will go for a walk with the dog. I don't walk her enough. I don't walk myself enough. I wish I liked running. I would love to be able to run away my worries. I hate running because I have bad feet. Im not sure when I developed plantar fasciitis it was probably sometime in this effin decade that gave me every other ache and ailment. I dont remember having bad feet when I was younger. I wore heels at my wedding. And my prom. I cant believe I wore hot pink to my prom. What was the the

Dear Rude Panera Man, I was walking into Panera the other day. I was behind you and thought for sure you would hold the door open for me. Not because I'm a woman or playing the cancer card but because, you know, common decency and all. But you didnt. I gave you the benefit of the doubt. Clearly maybe you didn't see that there was a person entering behind you (even though my tween boys know to look and hold the door but whatever. Benefit of the doubt) But when you went in the second door and saw me, you didn't even attempt to hold it while I followed behind you. You actually let it close. In my face. Why you gotta be so rude song popped into my head but because I'm Miss Zen now I thought maybe you were deep in thought about some sick person or a really really crappy thing happened to you earlier and you just weren't being yourself. But then THEN The nice Panera man called out your name and handed you your meal. "Have a nice day  and I hope you enjo

I've had people reach out to me over the past year asking various questions so here it is. Me laying it on the line. Because I have always been open but because I am hoping I will help one person.  Or two. You won't say the wrong thing because saying nothing is the wrong thing. Anything is better than nothing. Sure there are days that I hate the "how are you" question but that's ME. Not you. That's me hating to be a burden and being cancer cancer cancer girl.  It's me hating the question because really the answer is "I have cancer so I'm not really good but some days are better than others" Please don't feel that saying anything is wrong because caring for someone's well being- that can  just never be wrong. "My friend is going through chemo. I don't think she knows what she is in for" Of course she doesn't know! A few days before chemo I was talking to someone saying  I was ready. I felt strong.  I HAD THIS

So I claim that my new lifestyle is going to be zen. Breathing. Counting to 10 before exploding. Healthy eating. Smelling flowers and all that. And I really mean it. In the moment. And then my kids do something irritating like leaving the notebook on the kitchen table after I've asked at least 5 times to move it and I lose my zen. Because I'm only human. I cant be breathing and inhaling fresh roses 24/7 after all. Being all zen- after cancer or not- doesn't mean you can't blow up from time to time. It doesn't mean that the little things that irritated you pre-zen are all of a sudden going to be less irritating. This is clearly a work in progress. But the difference that I see in myself is there. For better or for worse. Read an article today from Shannen Doherty and how surviving breast cancer has caused her a rollercoaster of emotions. I've mentioned that on any given day I could be feeling great, angry, rejuvenated or sad. Cancer is definitely a g

It's a Sunday Fall morning in New England. Youngest is playing football in the yard with his camp friends. Correction: Youngest is being the referee while two of them play in their bare socks (on the wet grass)  and the others are laughing at my son who isn't doing a good job keeping score. It is music to my ears because this is what life is. What life should be. Laughter.  And not caring that you're ruining your socks. It has been a tough week for me at times. Trying to figure out why I'm not feeling myself. The "hard part" is over. Shouldn't I be done with all this "cancer cancer cancer mind"? This has been hard for me to wrap my head around but a dear friend just reminded me, there is no deadline.  I don't need to be following a time line of when I SHOULD be feeling better. When I SHOULD be accepting my new self, when I SHOULD be back to my old self.  This pressure we put on ourselves as cancer survivors is just one added

I mention quite often that the 12 summers I spent at MY camp were/are some of my most favorite memories. I learned how to do a square stitch with gimp, capsize a canoe (and get back in it) and how to serve a volleyball. I developed a love for Boston Cream Pie (BCP) and to this day there will be nothing that can compare to the shabbos bread served at Saturday morning breakfasts.  My non campy friends always laugh saying I know everyone from camp but, it's the truth. Wherever we go there is a camp connection.  It ALL circles back to camp. There are thousands of reasons why going to overnight camp is so wonderful but I realized activities that I did as a kid, impacted me as an adult. Here me out: After breakfas t we were sent back to bunks for clean up. Make your beds and straighten out your area.  40 years later; no lie, this is how I start my day. With hospital corners. Buddy up. A term yelled during free swim so they could count to make sure no children were lost in the l

How do you deal with cancer when you feel so far from being yourself? You google "feeling ugly after breast cancer". Then you sit and say to yourself Self, look at that. 1,820,000  results. At least 1,815,000 of the results will of course tell you that cancer should not define you. That your  (lack of ) hair and breasts is not what makes you- you. Of course I know this. But 10 months into this crap disease I feel so far from myself that it's often hard to reach deep with in to know that I'm still there. The mirror is my total enemy. I didn't ever think I was a vain person. Then you lose your hair and gain weight and lose a boob and my god- it's all about your looks. Vanity at its finest. I've treated myself to massages and pedicures. Facials and retail therapy. I take walks and hug my dog and watch HGTV to dream about beach bargain homes. The foot long scar and the lack of hair though- it's still there making me feel not me. The k