eatthefrostingfirst

I dont sleep through the night. Ever. I blame it on my bladder being the size of a marble and the fact that I had children. To add into the not sleeping through the night I've had insomnia as of late. This I blame on cancer. And the fact that I worry about everything known to man kind. December 18th will mark 365 days since I found the pea sized lump (Which turned into 3 pea sized lumps and a bit of DCIS- Stage 0- thrown in just to keep things interesting) Since then my nights have consisted of cancer worries, cancer tears, cancer fatigue...you get the gist. I'm at a new stage now of nights consisting of worry about the following: What will I eat for lunch tomorrow now that I'm trying to lose 20lbs? Do we have eggs that I can hard boil? What was that noise? Is my 12 year old being excluded from things that he cares about? No he doesn't care about it only his obsessive neurotic mother cares about it. If I keep caring I will turn my son into an obsessive

In 2009 I was at an event with a group of breast cancer women and they were all talking about losing their hair and side effects from chemo.  Lumpectomy vs mastectomy  Radiation, fatigue, nerve pain, fake breasts vs no breast. Then they turned to me to ask how I managed with it all? And me.  I felt like I fraud.  "Oh- I only needed a mastectomy" ( as if losing your breast wasn’t a warranted way to work myself into the sisterhood)  I know I had dodged a bullet and felt like these women deserved to be recognized way more than I did. They went through hell. And I believed it. I absolutely undoubtedly felt that losing my breast was just part of the cancer deal and my life went on. I always felt that if I got it again it would be caught early because  I was being monitored so closely and yup- I would just lose the other one- end of story. But never did I expect if I got it again it would happen in the already gone breast and never did I think that I would now have a v

There was a tragic accident in our community this past week. As a small town and parents; we are all grieving along with the families. I say families because the driver who hit the victims is also grieving. This was a tragic accident and I'm sure our hearts are aching along with hers. Lives have been changed forever in a blink of an eye. I, along with so many in my town, hugged my children a bit tighter last night as I wished them goodnight. Thinking how lucky I was that I had them next to me. Somehow the messy room, the homework that needed nagging to get done, the put away the phone-none seemed to matter last night. Time stood still and all I wanted was for them to be in my house, in my eyesight, close enough to be able to reach out and brush their hair out of their eyes. Thanksgiving is a tough time of year. We are supposed to be feeling grateful; thankful. It's tough to do that this year. In spite of our local tragedy, each story in the news the past few months ha

Things I argue with my children about on a daily/weekly/monthly basis wearing jackets collared shirts for "special occasions" shirts that have tags wearing shirts that don't have a logo wearing shoes that aren't sneakers or flip flops inside out socks underwear attached to the pants that are in the laundry brushing hair brushing teeth loading a dishwasher cleaning out a sink eating something that's not a carb eating something with color Me trying to be all zen? Yea, not so easy

Someone told me I was strong the other day. I am hardly strong and I'm certainly no stronger than you. We all have this inner strength in us that comes out when we need it to. I didn't want to have to find this inner strength. Sometimes we can't fight any longer. And that's when the love of those around us kicks in and carries the load. I received a note today from a friend. Her dear friend was recently diagnosed with breast cancer and would I be willing to talk with her.  After I cried on the couch, I said, of course. I don't know this woman but it was just all too much for me to bare today. Or any day for that matter. It has become an epidemic it seems. The past 11 months have really sucked. I have run the gamut of emotions. A new one is guilt. Guilt that I am recovering while others are not. (A name they so brilliantly call; survivors guilt) Depression that recovering from surgery sucks but I should be grateful that I'm doing okay.  Fear of a ne

I'm pretty sure I've spent my entire life comparing. That girl is prettier skinnier getting more dates better car better grades Than I became a Mom and if I thought I was comparing as a teenager I didn't know the half of it. That kid is walking, talking, eating, running, smarter, potty trained, more behaved and taller than mine. That Mother must be a better Mom than me. She is at the gym, makes organic food, eats better, multi tasks, shops only at Whole Foods and dresses to the nines. Her life must be perfect. What I've learned however is "everyone we meet has a battle we know nothing about." That's right. Behind closed doors could be a whole different story. Or maybe it's not. Maybe she is as perfect as she appears and so are her precious cherubs. But so what? You aren't her. Sure your kid maybe didn't wear underwear til a week before Kindergarten started  (you know, hypothetically) and maybe you aren't a perfect s

I've gone from Law and Order reruns to ER. This is what my week has looked like. DH has been a total mensch. He makes my meals, tracks my meds, empties my drains and takes care of all the house and kid stuff while I lie in bed and sleep. This may sound heavenly  but because I like things my way and because I don't do well with people taking care of me, it's not actually that glamorous. Nothing about any of this is glamorous. My flat stomach is more tight than flat. It pulls. I have more scars, stitches and bruising than I care to have. My new breast; the same. I sleep a lot which may also sound amazing but I'm just irritable because I'm so tired. I cry out of the blue. You're almost done, I'm reminded. This is the last big step. Which only makes me cry more. If this is the last step, why do I feel like it's just the beginning? Remember. Glass half empty girl here. With the 'final' surgery, I see needing some minor touch ups in

I am 49 1/2 years old. Although I do not feel like I'm  6 months from 50 ( because what does 50 feel like anyway?), I am thrilled beyond thrilled to be ridding this damned decade. Whoever said the 40's are the new 30's didn't live in my 40 year old body. And I'm really hoping that 50's aren't the new 40's because lord knows I do NOT want a repeat of this decade. In spite of the numerous surgeries and the obvious two time party of breast cancer:  my eyesight has worsened each year. I got more aches more pounds more medications more gray more wrinkles more headaches (ok; those I can blame on the tween boys living with me) But the crappy decade gave me some wisdom as well. Lots actually. I grew up. I learned to speak out more and shy away less. I learned that I liked who I was as a grown up and that I should surround myself with people I liked. I learned that even though there are times that I screamed bloody murder at my children

So here's the thing... Surgery and a new breast doesn't make you have an A-ha moment. It's not like- ok, I am whole again- check the box and move on. I've done a ton of blog and book reading the past 11 months and have learned that just because you're going through the treatment process, just because you complete the treatment process, just because I'm almost done....I'm just beginning to heal. This past year has just been going through the motions. Almost like a dream (a ve ry bad dream not one with unicorns and ice cream cones) but one that makes you wake up in a hospital room and think holy cannoli has it been almost a year? I'm looking forward to finding out how I will heal. How I will turn my every day worry into only the occasional worry. How my occasional tears will turn into seldom tears. When I get to give away the scarves and the prosthetic and the wig. When I get to look in the mirror with a new confidence again. In the meantime I