I am going to beat cancer
I am going to have an awesome life with my family
I am going to live out my dreams
I am going to witness many more sunsets
I am going to walk a million more miles on the sand
I am going to do whatever the doctors tell me to do
I am going to be healthy again
I am going to have days when thoughts of the big C are far from my mind
I am going to win and
Nothing is going to stop me
Saturday, July 9, 2011
Friday, July 8, 2011
there's no place like home.
Ah yes, I finally am back in my own home... Hurray for Toms River! My heart sang when I stepped out of the van and heard a boat on the bay. I forgot how much I love my little house. I missed it and didn't realize how much until I got here.
There are things I miss though about Mom and Dad's. Of course, spending time with them was great, and having the extra help was huge! It was definitely a good place to be for me to start my healing process. I also miss having the big bed for Steven to fall asleep in. Trying to get him to sleep in his twin bed required my best Karate Kid impersonation to avoid getting clocked in my newly installed salt water balloons as he flipped and flopped around in his attempt to get comfy.
It's a good day though. Being well enough to be here without 18 sets of hands to help is progress.
I was able to shower completely on my own today, shampoo included! Wooohoooo! There was a time, less than two weeks ago when a shower required a helper, an assistant, some medical tape, a shower chair, and then a two hour nap. Today, it just required me.
I was able to put a sweatshirt OVER my head. Also a huge moment indeed. I am proudly sporting my 15 year old TCNJ sweatshirt. Go Lions!
It's funny because sometimes I underestimate my own progress, but today I did show that I have come a long way. But, doing all that stuff knocked me out! Here's hoping a Benedryl will knock me right out tonight.
There are things I miss though about Mom and Dad's. Of course, spending time with them was great, and having the extra help was huge! It was definitely a good place to be for me to start my healing process. I also miss having the big bed for Steven to fall asleep in. Trying to get him to sleep in his twin bed required my best Karate Kid impersonation to avoid getting clocked in my newly installed salt water balloons as he flipped and flopped around in his attempt to get comfy.
It's a good day though. Being well enough to be here without 18 sets of hands to help is progress.
I was able to shower completely on my own today, shampoo included! Wooohoooo! There was a time, less than two weeks ago when a shower required a helper, an assistant, some medical tape, a shower chair, and then a two hour nap. Today, it just required me.
I was able to put a sweatshirt OVER my head. Also a huge moment indeed. I am proudly sporting my 15 year old TCNJ sweatshirt. Go Lions!
It's funny because sometimes I underestimate my own progress, but today I did show that I have come a long way. But, doing all that stuff knocked me out! Here's hoping a Benedryl will knock me right out tonight.
Thursday, July 7, 2011
call to act.
Each of us is put on this earth with a purpose, a calling if you will. It's up to us to determine what that is and answer that call.
A spoke today with my "reach to recovery" volunteer. She is a woman who has been through what I am going through and volunteers with the american cancer society to support women going through this dreaded disease.
Chatting with her was wonderful!
Despite the most wonderful support group a girl could ask for, I still feel isolated sometimes. Talking to someone who has been here before is a huge boost for me. Fortunately for me (unfortunately for them), I have a few of these beautiful women in my life, and today, I added a new cheerleader to my list. I am grateful that she chose this calling. She's a mom herself, she works full time, and went through this same nonsense four years ago.
We talked and chuckled about some of the oddities of post-mastectomy recovery. It was wonderful. She understood why I wasn't devastated by the ability to "downgrade". She told me the boob cramps are normal and gave me tips on how to manage them.
Each survivor who has come into my life brings a different perspective and approach. All unique, but all helpful, and all hopeful! Thank you ladies!
It's so important that we learn and grow from our trials.
The bottom line is, every one of us will encounter shit in our lives, but what do we do with it? Do we hide and cry? Sometimes. But we can't stay hidden and crying forever.
We rise up. We take the lemons and make lemonade, lemon merangue pie, lemon chicken, lemon drop shots, citrus margaritas, or we throw the lemons at someone who pisses us off.
Whatever we choose, we just have to do something. That's what our obligation is. Pay it forward, backwards or sideways. Just do something good.
A spoke today with my "reach to recovery" volunteer. She is a woman who has been through what I am going through and volunteers with the american cancer society to support women going through this dreaded disease.
Chatting with her was wonderful!
Despite the most wonderful support group a girl could ask for, I still feel isolated sometimes. Talking to someone who has been here before is a huge boost for me. Fortunately for me (unfortunately for them), I have a few of these beautiful women in my life, and today, I added a new cheerleader to my list. I am grateful that she chose this calling. She's a mom herself, she works full time, and went through this same nonsense four years ago.
We talked and chuckled about some of the oddities of post-mastectomy recovery. It was wonderful. She understood why I wasn't devastated by the ability to "downgrade". She told me the boob cramps are normal and gave me tips on how to manage them.
Each survivor who has come into my life brings a different perspective and approach. All unique, but all helpful, and all hopeful! Thank you ladies!
It's so important that we learn and grow from our trials.
The bottom line is, every one of us will encounter shit in our lives, but what do we do with it? Do we hide and cry? Sometimes. But we can't stay hidden and crying forever.
We rise up. We take the lemons and make lemonade, lemon merangue pie, lemon chicken, lemon drop shots, citrus margaritas, or we throw the lemons at someone who pisses us off.
Whatever we choose, we just have to do something. That's what our obligation is. Pay it forward, backwards or sideways. Just do something good.
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
do what you gotta do.
My thought has always been, I don't care how difficult the recovery is as long as it will give me the best outcome. I don't care what they have to do to fix it, just fix it.
I have come to find some interesting things during this process. It's very interesting to me that the doctors all seem to feel that they need to convince me to do the best thing. By that, I mean, I have noticed that they basically expect me to push back on their rcommended treatment and come into appointments ready for a debate. One that they do not encounter.
For example, when discussing the mastectomy as an option, they all seemed to think it was the right choice for me, but were afraid I was going to grab one of their heavy medical books and chuck it at their heads for even suggesting something so radical.
Then the other day, I asked my surgeon what she thought prognosis was for me post surgery. She looked panicked and quickly responded "well, you still need chemo". She relaxed when I said I knew that already. I guess some people choose not to go aggressive, and figure if they do the surgery, they can back out of other treatment. In my mind, this was never an option. Even from before my diagnosis was confirmed, I knew I was going to need chemo and was ok with that. Don't get me wrong. I have no desire to feel like I have the worst flu ever for 4 months, but what's the alternative? There really isn't one. Living is the only alternative.
My fighting spirit was fueled tonight in a happy way. If you have been reading along, you know that one of my main concerns/fear is being a good mommy to my sweet boy through this nonsense.
Steve and I have noticed how beautifully he is handling this "adventure". He's very gentle and concerned with me, while remaining his happy, silly self. Well, as I was putting him to bed tonight, he smiled sleepily at me and said, "you're the best mommy ever!" Ahhh bliss!!!! And a key reason to fight this beast with everything I've got: for my precious boy and my whole family.
I have come to find some interesting things during this process. It's very interesting to me that the doctors all seem to feel that they need to convince me to do the best thing. By that, I mean, I have noticed that they basically expect me to push back on their rcommended treatment and come into appointments ready for a debate. One that they do not encounter.
For example, when discussing the mastectomy as an option, they all seemed to think it was the right choice for me, but were afraid I was going to grab one of their heavy medical books and chuck it at their heads for even suggesting something so radical.
Then the other day, I asked my surgeon what she thought prognosis was for me post surgery. She looked panicked and quickly responded "well, you still need chemo". She relaxed when I said I knew that already. I guess some people choose not to go aggressive, and figure if they do the surgery, they can back out of other treatment. In my mind, this was never an option. Even from before my diagnosis was confirmed, I knew I was going to need chemo and was ok with that. Don't get me wrong. I have no desire to feel like I have the worst flu ever for 4 months, but what's the alternative? There really isn't one. Living is the only alternative.
My fighting spirit was fueled tonight in a happy way. If you have been reading along, you know that one of my main concerns/fear is being a good mommy to my sweet boy through this nonsense.
Steve and I have noticed how beautifully he is handling this "adventure". He's very gentle and concerned with me, while remaining his happy, silly self. Well, as I was putting him to bed tonight, he smiled sleepily at me and said, "you're the best mommy ever!" Ahhh bliss!!!! And a key reason to fight this beast with everything I've got: for my precious boy and my whole family.
Tuesday, July 5, 2011
good day/good night
Today was a good day. My appointment with Dr Cohen was set for thursday, but the drains were slower and funky, so I called. They said "come on in today and we will take them out." HURRAY! You don't have to tell me twice.
So I went. And presto! I'm drain-free! Yyyyaaaaayyyyyyyyyy! It's wonderful. It's amazing what a difference it makes. I can move so much more freely. And I don't have to be grossed out anymore.
A huge step in healing! I am proud of the fact that the doctor's are happy with my healing progress. They have advised me to do certain things: rest, take my antibiotics, take certain vitamins, do my physical therapy stretches at home, and start walking again. I did them all, and it has paid off.
Now I am living a drain-free life! Ahhh the good life (funny how your perspective shifts). I can lay down again! Ahhhh.
And tonight, I was able to put my son to bed without assistance. AND, he fell asleep in 5 MINUTES (with only two inadvertent flying elbows to the incisions)!!! Now, anyone who has participated in the bedtime activities knows that this is a miracle in and of itself! Wheeeehoooo!
So the rest of this week is dedicated to resting and healing some more. I guess I can handle that.
So I went. And presto! I'm drain-free! Yyyyaaaaayyyyyyyyyy! It's wonderful. It's amazing what a difference it makes. I can move so much more freely. And I don't have to be grossed out anymore.
A huge step in healing! I am proud of the fact that the doctor's are happy with my healing progress. They have advised me to do certain things: rest, take my antibiotics, take certain vitamins, do my physical therapy stretches at home, and start walking again. I did them all, and it has paid off.
Now I am living a drain-free life! Ahhh the good life (funny how your perspective shifts). I can lay down again! Ahhhh.
And tonight, I was able to put my son to bed without assistance. AND, he fell asleep in 5 MINUTES (with only two inadvertent flying elbows to the incisions)!!! Now, anyone who has participated in the bedtime activities knows that this is a miracle in and of itself! Wheeeehoooo!
So the rest of this week is dedicated to resting and healing some more. I guess I can handle that.
Sunday, July 3, 2011
every day a little stronger.
Each day, I see a little bit of improvement, progress. It's not as rapid as I would like, but it's definitely there. I know that each day, I get a little closer to being a true survivor. Today was a low-key day. I was sadly not ready to go to a bbq with some awesome friends. I know they understood, but I hope they know I missed being there as much as they missed me. I wish I was back to normal, but I am getting closer.
The tail end of this past week was a dark one for me. Fear and doubt clouded my mind. But I pushed through. I just kept telling myself "I am going to beat this. I am going to survive" over and over and over again. And I felt a little bit of sun shining through the clouds over time.
I actually was strong enough to walk for a half hour around mom and dad's neighborhood and didn't need a nap immediately. See, progress!
I can cut my own meat and sometimes open my own prescription bottle again. (sad the things that impress me).
As I walked this evening, the sky was a beautiful, funky shade of pink, almost as though it were especially made for me.
I think my drains are getting a little slower. I just want these damn things out already! I hope this is my last week with them in. I have an appointment with Dr Cohen on Thursday.
I didn't take a nap today.
I have only taken 2 motrin in the last 48 hours, and that was only because I had a headache.
I am able to get my hoodie on with minimal to no assistance.
If I do it slowly, I can reach the top shelf in my parents' pantry.
My range of motion is getting much better.
My pain is minimal...
Oh, and here's a funny side effect: boob cramps! Holy mother of God, they hurt! I think I hadn't been drinking enough water in the last day or so (which I have since fixed) and I got charlie horses in each of my boobs. Yikes! Since the expanders are under the chest muscles, I guess this is a funky side effect as the body adjusts. It takes pain to be beautiful. Sigh.
Here are some more post-mastectomy tips:
The tail end of this past week was a dark one for me. Fear and doubt clouded my mind. But I pushed through. I just kept telling myself "I am going to beat this. I am going to survive" over and over and over again. And I felt a little bit of sun shining through the clouds over time.
I actually was strong enough to walk for a half hour around mom and dad's neighborhood and didn't need a nap immediately. See, progress!
I can cut my own meat and sometimes open my own prescription bottle again. (sad the things that impress me).
As I walked this evening, the sky was a beautiful, funky shade of pink, almost as though it were especially made for me.
I think my drains are getting a little slower. I just want these damn things out already! I hope this is my last week with them in. I have an appointment with Dr Cohen on Thursday.
I didn't take a nap today.
I have only taken 2 motrin in the last 48 hours, and that was only because I had a headache.
I am able to get my hoodie on with minimal to no assistance.
If I do it slowly, I can reach the top shelf in my parents' pantry.
My range of motion is getting much better.
My pain is minimal...
Oh, and here's a funny side effect: boob cramps! Holy mother of God, they hurt! I think I hadn't been drinking enough water in the last day or so (which I have since fixed) and I got charlie horses in each of my boobs. Yikes! Since the expanders are under the chest muscles, I guess this is a funky side effect as the body adjusts. It takes pain to be beautiful. Sigh.
Here are some more post-mastectomy tips:
- Google pink bra and get the mastectomy tanktop with drain pockets. This makes life much easier. This was passed on to me by another sister. They are comfy and helpful.
- Get a chair to put in your shower when you have to have someone else wash your hair. It makes it easier on everyone.
- Gently push yourself and do your stretching exercises. I haven't been perfect about this, but I am doing them. I think it is what is helping me to improve.
Saturday, July 2, 2011
Freedom.
It means different things to different people. For years, it meant being able to express my feelings verbally, having equal rights as a woman, living in a culture of respect. These were beautiful rights I was grateful to have.
This year, it means something completely different. This year, it's something I seeking: freedom from cancer. Even if they got it all in surgery, I don't think I am ready to declare victory quite yet. I still seek more.
I want freedom from my drains. There is nothing more irritating than having tubes sewn into your body. I feel like I look like I'm smuggling grenades around under my shirt like a terrorist or like I'm pregnant. Neither is making me feeling too good these days.
Freedom from the incessant "what ifs". I was always a relatively confidence person, never doubted my choices, never was afraid that things wouldn't work out, never pessimistic. The fear and the uncertainty is an unwelcome intruder. I need to find a way to get rid of that. I spend much quite time driving out defeatist thoughts, trying to remind myself that I am going to beat this, I am going to survive.
Freedom from my "new normal". I have heard do many survivors speak of this. It's not a place I like very much. I haven't made it my home yet.
Freedom from my sleeping restrictions. Oh, how I long to sleep in my bed on my stomach, instead of in a recliner. Sometimes, it's the little things I miss the most.
Freedom to move how I want without pain. Freedom to fully use my arms again. Freedom to drive a vehicle. Freedom to carry my little boy. Freedom to lay down with him at bedtime to help him fall to sleep. Freedom from being the subject of people's sympathy.
When I earn my freedoms, they will be much sweeter because this time it is something I am fighting for myself.
I am grateful to live in America: the land of the free and the home of the brave. This is the promised land, the place where miracles happen, the home of the best doctors in the world. I wonder if I can get fireworks for my survivor party. Seems appropriate.
This year, it means something completely different. This year, it's something I seeking: freedom from cancer. Even if they got it all in surgery, I don't think I am ready to declare victory quite yet. I still seek more.
I want freedom from my drains. There is nothing more irritating than having tubes sewn into your body. I feel like I look like I'm smuggling grenades around under my shirt like a terrorist or like I'm pregnant. Neither is making me feeling too good these days.
Freedom from the incessant "what ifs". I was always a relatively confidence person, never doubted my choices, never was afraid that things wouldn't work out, never pessimistic. The fear and the uncertainty is an unwelcome intruder. I need to find a way to get rid of that. I spend much quite time driving out defeatist thoughts, trying to remind myself that I am going to beat this, I am going to survive.
Freedom from my "new normal". I have heard do many survivors speak of this. It's not a place I like very much. I haven't made it my home yet.
Freedom from my sleeping restrictions. Oh, how I long to sleep in my bed on my stomach, instead of in a recliner. Sometimes, it's the little things I miss the most.
Freedom to move how I want without pain. Freedom to fully use my arms again. Freedom to drive a vehicle. Freedom to carry my little boy. Freedom to lay down with him at bedtime to help him fall to sleep. Freedom from being the subject of people's sympathy.
When I earn my freedoms, they will be much sweeter because this time it is something I am fighting for myself.
I am grateful to live in America: the land of the free and the home of the brave. This is the promised land, the place where miracles happen, the home of the best doctors in the world. I wonder if I can get fireworks for my survivor party. Seems appropriate.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)