Category Archives: Change

New Year, New Priorities

Change, Healing, Perspective Shift, Positive Attitude

Well, here we are, almost a full year since my mastectomy. I had my second surgery of the year on Mon 11/11 — had my ovaries and fallopian tubes removed. It was surgical removal or keep them chemically suppressed with a monthly injection. The past three months of injections proved to be full of unwanted side effects, so it only made sense to cut the estrogen off at its source.

And now I’m getting ready for another surgery in 5 days, reconstruction at last.

After hitting my grief limit in mid-October (over Mr. Avoidant), I slid back into my steady stable happy single life like nothing ever happened. I finished October on a high note and moved right into November and December without missing a beat. After my surgery, voila! it was time for the holidays. I thoroughly enjoyed my family, friends, and food. It was a great Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Year.

I forced myself to refocus on my health and my kids. I haven’t spent an extra thought on Mr. Avoidant for months. Although he works with me, he’s not in the same building. We rarely have an exchange, if any, because my employees are typically the ones who interface with him. There have been two near encounters, but I stopped them before they could start.

One night, after dinner I saw I had a missed call from him. And a text saying something to the effect that he knows I don’t want to talk to him, but he just didn’t want to put my family through whatever it is that he’s going through. It’s alcoholism. That’s what he’s going through. He needs help. He knows it, I know it, everyone knows it, but he remains in denial, which is more than half the battle.

I did text him back. I spoke my mind, basically told him his silence the past couple months was response enough that I needed for my perspective on him. I also told him he’s hurting people by not getting himself help.

Response from him? More silence. It’s fine. It’s sad, disappointing that’s how he deals with problems, but more silence it was. I left it there.

Fast forward to our company Christmas party. I saw him from afar and wanted nothing to do with him. He looked terrible. Badly dressed, heavier than I remembered, and drunk. I had to walk past his chair at one point and he asked how I was doing. Uh, fine. F-I-N-E. After the dinner portion of the evening, I went to the restroom, and low and behold, he’s the ONLY other human in the hallway with me. For shits sake. I had to acknowledge his existence. He tried to start a conversation. He must’ve asked how I was doing, and I just said “Good”.

G-O-O-D.

And good I have been. I don’t even know what I was thinking having any kind of romantic connection to that guy. Basically, I was in a bad place (post-chemo, no hair, needing attention), and he’s always in a bad place (alcoholic who tells good jokes to get attention)… it was the perfect storm. He caught me in a vulnerable state, and I allowed it to happen.

Never again.

This New Year, there will be no dates to just date. There will be dates to see if there’s a connection that could potentially work long term. If none, go away. Run far far away. Right now, I’m not even focused on any dating (I guess I wasn’t last time either, but whatever). My focus is to heal from this last surgery and take care of myself and my family. I have a plan to buy a new car. My daughter is going to start driving and take over my current car. I’m taking care of my body, my family, my finances, and anything else that’s important to ME.

My New Years resolution is to give myself grace. Try my best and remember I can’t control everything. God has it.

New Year, New Priorities.

God, Family, Me.

Stifle Me Not

Detached

Change, Dating, Honesty, Hope, Learning, Perspective Shift, Self-Awareness

No matter how many times I say, “I’m done”… I’m not really done until the pit in my stomach, the tension in my back, and the ache in my heart subsides long enough to think clearly for a minute. I don’t know why all of that physical and emotional strain impacts every waking thought so much, but it does. And it sucks.

And that is exactly what happened this weekend.

On Thursday, it was 2 weeks since Mr. Avoidant dumped me over the phone and rushed back to his comfort zone. I accepted the 2-week mark as a definite “no going back” milestone to say the least. This was apparent after the first few days of no contact, but my heart didn’t know that. All my heart knew was hurt, which signaled my eyes to tear up unexpectedly, my mind to reminisce, and my left eye to constantly twitch.

On this Thursday of the 2-week mark, I started out strong – woke up and started my day as usual. But around 10 AM I started to get restless. The restless thoughts started again. I wasn’t about to go through another weekend sabotaging myself with more restless thoughts. I finally texted him. Yes, I texted Mr. Avoidant. Not to restart anything, just to see if we could talk – pointing out that such an abrupt ending was/is not healthy for either of us. I wasn’t expecting a response.

In less than 20 minutes, he texted right back. Very kindly saying he was sorry, that he still thinks about me constantly, would like to talk, and didn’t mean to hurt me. He said he was going fishing, and we’d talk soon. I simply said, “Ok, thank you.” I wasn’t about to fall into another one of his word traps. I know how nice he can be. And then he can turn around a dump you like a piece of trash because of his own insecurities. I thought saying “thank you” was just a good neutral response and then to be continued later.

To my surprise, I got more replies from him, saying he didn’t know what to say [the past two weeks], and he hoped I was doing well.

Since apparently “texting” is allowed now, I let him know I wasn’t very well because of too many feelings plus I’d been sick and on an antibiotic for chest congestion. He responded immediately “Oh no”… and blah blah fucking-blah. He tried to send me a joke. I told him I didn’t feel like laughing, just wanted to talk, missed my friend, and told him to catch some fish. I left it at that. No more responses, and then hours later in the evening he texts that he caught three fish. I responded “Yay good good”… and then there was no more responses from then on.

He’s gone on fishing trips before, so I knew he was with his friend and drinking and fishing and doing whatever they do. I figured I’d hear from him the next day or sometime during the weekend. I couldn’t sleep that night. I wavered between wanting to say all the words to get him back, and wanting to preserve my dignity and walk away with my head held high. I didn’t sleep too well on Thursday night or Friday night. I just wanted to make sure I could listen to him and not yell. That was my whole goal – try to gain a little more understanding, or not. But at least get some closure — to end this on a better note than it did.

Well, the weekend came and went. No more texts. No phone calls. Nothing.

I journaled all weekend. I cried more. I slept. I kept busy. On Saturday, I’d had it with my overactive mind and started cleaning out the basement. What started as a simple toy clean-out initiative turned into a gutting of old clothes and shoes that were clogging up my basement and our bedroom closets for entirely too long. After 3 hours, my car was full of 18 bags and 2 big boxes of donation items. Mostly clothes and shoes from me and my kids.

That felt good. As I cleaned out my own clothes, I threw out every piece of a clothing that conjured up any negative memory from the past. I had several items that my ex-husband had bought me or that I’d worn on an occasion that he ruined. So, in the trash bag it went.

I’m very much over my ex-husband, but I still have items laying around that remind me of him, or situations with him that I don’t like. Some things just are what they are, but if it’s a stupid shirt with a dumb memory associated with it and can be replaced easily, then hell with it. I don’t need it. I’m a 45-year adult with a great job, I can afford some new clothes here and there.

The closet clean-out was very therapeutic. I think my kids felt better too. I have a habit of cleaning out their drawers, but then I leave the pile of unwanted clothes sitting in the corner of their room for entirely too long instead of instantly putting it in a bag and donating it.

By the end of Saturday night, I was whooped. I was still expecting a call from Mr. Avoidant, but then somehow told myself he was probably busy and would reappear on Sunday night. Nope. We went to church, breakfast, and then went to a birthday party. No text. No call. I went to the grocery store and made dinner. No call. No text. I figured if he didn’t call this Sunday night, he’d likely never call.

And right then, realizing that if someone can’t give you the decency of a phone call after saying they would 3 days prior, that right there is pure disrespect and actually quite sad. It’s sad that he avoids life, and it’s sad that I face it head on and get this kind of treatment. That realization snapped me right out of it. Funny how it wasn’t the 2 weeks of avoidance, but the 3 more days of avoidance based on something he said he’d do and didn’t.

What can I say? I’m slow.

For the rest of Sunday night, I watched a show, didn’t look at my phone, didn’t check to see if he’d called or texted. Nor did I have the urge to. My phone attachment (to him) had been broken. My eye stopped twitching, my back stopped being tense, my heart hardened, and my dignity was no longer at risk of being compromised. Because, well, I hit my limit. I’m very much done.

This morning, I woke up feeling brand new. Mr. Avoidant was not my first thought in the morning. There wasn’t a dreadful thing weighing me down like the past 2 weeks.

Sometimes you don’t need the closure you think you need or deserve. Sometimes you just need to accept you were dumped by a moron and move on. I guess he was a good summer distraction while I grew my hair out from chemo.

I’m no longer distracted. I have more things to clean out of my basement. I didn’t survive months of breast cancer treatments to obsess over another person’s lack of effort. I have more life to live.

Stifle Me Not

26 Down, 2 to Go… and a Slow New Start

Change, Dating, Healing, Honesty, Perspective Shift, Radiation, Trust

I’m nearing the end of radiation treatment. On Monday, it will be done. Looking back, this past month hasn’t been bad at all. I think it’s been as good as it can be. No one wants to go through any kind of treatment, but this doesn’t feel like a medical treatment. It feels like something has been added to my routine for a month – just another thing to complete each day, like brushing my teeth. All of the radiation technicians and my doctor have been amazing. Radiation doesn’t have the overshadowing of “doom and gloom” that chemo had. I’ve even been making friends in the waiting room.

Throughout the past month, something has happened that I didn’t see coming… I started getting into a new relationship.

Like What? Why now? Yea, that’s what I was thinking too.

As luck, or fate, or whatever would have it, I’ve been getting to know a guy better that I’ve known for over two years. He had an on/off girlfriend most of the time I’ve known him, but he caught my eye from the moment I met him. The physical attraction has always been there. As I got to know him with small encounters here and there, I learned some things about him, but not the whole picture. So, I made assumptions early on and excluded him as someone that wouldn’t be in my dating pool.

At the end of last year, I chatted with him occasionally. When an encounter between us would end, I found myself wanting to know more about him. I was interested, but I wasn’t going to push anything, especially since he had a long-term girlfriend. And, as detours in life happen, I was diagnosed with breast cancer in mid-November and my mind shifted from wondering about potential new relationships to focusing on my health and immediate family. That’s all I had the energy for.

One day in early January, he informed me that he and his girlfriend had broken up. That sparked my interest, but I was doubtful anything could really happen between him and me. I was about to get a boob lopped off and start cancer treatment. It didn’t seem like a good time to let him know I was interested. And I valued him as a friend, so I decided it wasn’t best to pursue anything outside of friendship. I know men aren’t mind-readers, but I figured he’d do the pursuing if he had interest too.

Before I knew it, I was going through the recovery process of a mastectomy. The possibility of ever dating again was gone. It took me the full 6 weeks to recover from that surgery and it was tough. The first week was a blur – my new normal was being zonked out on pain medication and overall discomfort. As I started to heal in the first few weeks, I’d get occasional texts from this man. He’d check on me, see if I needed anything, and then leave me alone. His texts would come when I needed it most. He’d tell me a joke and we’d banter back and forth. I started to look forward to his texts, and I was bummed when I wouldn’t hear from him.

Many friends checked on me during that time, but he was the only one (outside of my immediate family) that consistently checked on me. I knew I could reach out to him if I wanted to, but I felt like he’d think I’d want more than a friendship, which I wasn’t sure about. I didn’t want to seem like some kind of desperate person, trying to get attention because I was at a low point in my life. So, I did nothing.

As we moved into Spring, I went back to work and we chatted/texted sometimes. He was so great to talk to, but it never lasted long. There was always and interruption. And I was about to start chemo. In my mind, no one wants to start a relationship with someone who’s going through chemo. And I figured no one going through chemo would feel good enough to keep up a new relationship. I also didn’t know the real him that well. I did on the surface, but not too personally. All of our conversations were “light” and “fun”. Nothing too in-depth. I sensed there was more depth there by a few comments he made, but I held back, especially with chemo on the horizon.

As chemo started, he continued to check on me. For the entire 12 weeks, I’d hear from him every few weeks. It was weird, because I was seriously in the dumps, and he’d surface right when I needed him most. On chemo, there are some very bad days – physically, mentally, emotionally. He’d send a message when I’d be in the middle of a crying meltdown, and just the fact that he thought to reach out was enough to cheer me up.

Once chemo was over, I continued on my usual path: Single, trying to be a good mom, healing, and forging ahead to what was next — radiation treatments. And I did just that. Then one Friday, I got a message from him. He started a light conversation and proceeded to tell me that he thought I needed someone, and he wanted to set me up with his friend.

I was very surprised at this. He started telling me about his “friend”. I was a little bummed because I wanted to get to know him more, not his friend. I went along with asking questions about his friend. This lasted until the next morning. I was suspicious about the whole thing. Something was off about how he was describing his friend.

Finally, he confessed there was no friend. He initially planned to set me up with his “friend” and then he was going to show up instead, but he second-guessed himself. He was afraid I’d be mad at him for doing that. I’m not sure how I would’ve felt. I was already disappointed we were talking about his friend when I wanted to get to know him better. When he fessed up, I had a wave of relief over me. And then he said he’d like to take me out sometime and that he’d been wanting to for a while.

My female brain malfunctioned in that moment. I’m pretty sure I went back to being 15 years old again. I turned into a smooshy bag of girl mush. I told him I’d love to go out with him too. We mutually admitted we both wanted to be more than friends after 6 long months.

The very next weekend, he took me to dinner. We chatted the whole drive. Chatted the whole dinner. Chatted the whole drive back. He picked me up and dropped me off back at home. It was an expensive dinner, and he paid. I was actually nervous and so happy to be with him. I was learning even more great stuff about him. We’ve continued to talk almost every night (for hours), have had more dates, and even got together once with our kids. He has a son and I have my two kids.

I don’t see signs of this stopping (even though I’ve looked every which way for them). I’m glad radiation is almost over, and I’m really happy a great friend is turning into something more than I ever imagined. We’re moving along at a slow pace, but it’s good pace for both of us right now.

Stifle Me Not

Getting Back to “Normal”

Change, Healing, Motivation

It’s weird how, when life throws curve balls, your new normal becomes your everyday normal, and getting back to actual normal feels so abnormal.

I’ve become used to going in for treatments every 3 weeks. For 1.5 weeks after a treatment, I’m somewhat worthless when it comes to work, among other things. Then, by the third week I’m used to getting my energy back and feeling “normal”, but with the nagging awareness that it won’t last long because another treatment is looming.

I don’t have another treatment looming. And it feels weird. Very weird. I’m happy about it, but it’s like I’m having… adjustment issues, for lack of better words to use. It’s like I don’t know how to plan ahead like “normal”.

Up next is radiation. I went for my setup scan. They lined me up and tattooed me with three little dots. My first tattoos. They said they’ll call me in two weeks to schedule out the 28 scans that lie ahead. I don’t have a chemo treatment looming, but I do have a month of radiation awaiting me. They assured me I could live fairly “normally” during this phase.

I have a little break from it all for two weeks, and then I have something to add to my schedule for a month. That’s how I’m trying to look at it anyway. A temporary addition to my schedule, and then I’m free again… for a little while.

This year is just a series of medical obligations. One right after another. I look forward to knocking these all out.

Stifle Me Not

Milestones

Change, Healing

Ringing the bell was surreal. You think the day will never come, then it comes and goes in an instant. It’s been a full week since I completed my last round, and I’m only now starting to have thoughts of relief. It’s been a long hard week since last week because, well, regular life kept going with kids and work, and I still had to process the last round chemo medication out of my system. I got to ring a bell, but then had to keep going anyway. It’s a milestone, but not the finish line.

Even though I’m “done” with that phase, my mind can’t wrap itself around that fact. I was tidying up a few things, putting away some anti-nausea pills, and I had a thought about when I need to refill them. Then a wave of relief washed over me “I don’t have to refill them!” It’s only going to get better from here.

I woke up today and did things a little differently. I stretched. I went outside, walked in the dewy grass, sat in the morning sunlight for a little bit. I didn’t immediately go to my spot on the couch with coffee. I soaked in being alive for a little bit before I opened my laptop.

Then I realized that today is my 5-day divorce anniversary. It’s officially been 5 full years since I signed that paperwork to legally split me from my ex. Historically, this day brings bad feelings of regret about the past. It makes me think of the good and bad memories and what I could’ve done more of to save my unsavable marriage. It certainly doesn’t make me happy, I’m not celebrating that I’ve been divorced for 5 years. But I’m not sad about it either. I do think it was necessary. It was toxic and unhealthy.

Signing the divorce papers was a milestone for me saying enough is enough, but it wasn’t the finish line in the relationship with my ex. I still have to interact with him, co-parent with him, and continue to breathe even after he’s spewed a bunch of nonsense I don’t agree with. There was no finish line. Just a milestone.

I feel like we all run this race in life toward finishing things. But really, life is just a series of milestones, big or small or something in between. Nothing is ever really finished if you’re still alive.

So today, instead of ruminating in the past about the milestone of my unsavable marriage, I’d rather celebrate that I’m a week out from ringing the bell and looking forward to achieving many more future milestones. Some are clear and some are yet to be determined.

I have some obvious ones, like going through radiation and reconstruction, but I’m setting some of my own goals to accomplish moving forward too. When it comes to breast cancer, I know stress was a big factor. But I also know environmental and nutrition habits were obvious contributors as well. And although all of my genetic testing came back negative, I think my genes play a part in this as well. I can’t control that part, but I can control my choices related to the other variables.

I’m reviewing and resetting on this day, and in the months and years ahead. I have to pay attention to my stress, nutrition, and environment … and evaluate how I’m being impacted regularly. I can’t go back to the rat race. Even when I rejoin the rat race, I’m not racing, I’m walking.

I’m so good at handling stress. Almost too good. I’m good to the point of denial, and then it eats me alive. And when I’m stressed, I rush. When I rush, I don’t think about the quality of my nutrition or environment. I just do things to get them done, to finish, and I don’t keep my own wellbeing in mind.

If being diagnosed with breast cancer and going through chemo has done anything, it has shed light on my mortality. If I’m not here, I’m not here for my kids or family. I matter. I’ve been going through life to quickly and blindly to appreciate why I even matter.

I’ve reached a milestone where I can’t go backward now. Only forward.

Stifle Me Not

I Did It!

Breast Cancer, Cancer Sucks, Change, Healing, Hope, Motivation, Positive Attitude

Yesterday I completed my last round of chemotherapy. And today I got my last shot to increase my white blood count, which always follows the day after a chemo treatment. I was dreading this last treatment. And rightly so, I didn’t have a port, so my veins in my one arm are getting abused. Third poke was the charm, with the help of an ultrasound machine to locate a good vein. My doctor appointment went well after that, but then it took a couple of hours to be cleared from my bloodwork to start the infusion process — because my results were sent to the wrong department. My infusion lasted from Noon to 3 PM. And I finally got to ring the bell!

For as much dread as I’d had the last week leading up to this appointment, I was so excited to ring the bell! I was all smiles as so many nurses gathered around to clap for me and hug me and take pictures. As I walked out the exit, people in the waiting room were clapping for me. It felt great to get through this milestone!! I don’t ever want to do that again!!

Next week is my setup scan for the next milestone – Radiation. From what I hear, it’s way better than the chemo. And I get to start growing my hair back out!

I’m so proud of myself. I almost bypassed chemo altogether for fear of the side effects, but I think this was a good thing. It was doable. Hard, but doable.

Time to move into the next season. More goals ahead.

Stifle Me Not

Back to Basics

Breast Cancer, Change, Perspective Shift

Life can be hard enough when you have normal health. But when you add medical treatments in the mix, daily life becomes very deliberate and basic. I look back at what I used to do and wonder how I accomplished so much in 24 hrs.

My mornings used to involve my alarm going off at 5:30 AM with me thinking “I wanna sleep in”, as I shuffled my sleepy self to the shower. I’d rush through the entire morning – getting ready, packing lunches, nagging kids, etc. I’d fly out of the driveway with my son, drop him off at before-school care, and rush through traffic to get to work by 8 AM. I was almost always 5 minutes late. I’d work through a morning of phone calls, emails and people stopping by my office.

Lunch was my break, but not physically. I’d eat and typically go for a mile walk in the park.

Then I’d power through an afternoon of calls, emails, and people interaction to 5 PM. From there I’d race through traffic to get my son from after-care, get home and start dinner. Dinner, clean-up, and parenting all mingled in there. Sometimes I’d fall asleep on the couch by 9 PM (no wonder), and sometimes I’d indulge in wine and snacks and maybe a phone call with a friend or watching a show.

Wow. How impressive I was. For the past 20+ years I’ve been quite literally running my ass off.

Since January, when I had surgery, life has slowed down. When I returned to work from medical leave, it temporarily sped back up. That gave me a sense of normalcy for about 3 weeks and then I started chemo treatments. Life is now very deliberate and slow. I cannot pop out of bed, shower, and immediately caffeinate. My new ritual to pray, hydrate, focus, and determine how much I can handle in a day. That is followed by coffee, but my day is no longer fueled by coffee and chaos. I’m way more intentional about what I choose to do in a day.

Today was one of those days. Yesterday, I went into the office to work for a few hours, and I could feel myself overdoing it. I finally threw in the towel and told my boss I had to leave. I needed a mango smoothie, rotisserie chicken, and a nap. He’s been an absolute angel, allowing me to work both remote and in the office when I’m up to it. I decided that today I did not want to feel overdone. Today I could only handle the basics.

I didn’t sleep well last night and woke up with a terrible headache. My first priority was getting rid of the headache. Going into the office was not going to help that. I hydrated with some organic coconut water and laid under blankies on my couch. When the headache subsided, I made some coffee and toast. My next priority was getting the kids off to school. Next, I texted my lawn guy to see why on earth my yard was still not mowed after more than a week since the last service. It’s been bugging me all week, and I wasn’t about to go all summer having to nag the lawn company – I was ready to switch companies if this is the norm. I usually do all of my own yard work, but chemo has me doing less these days and I’m supposed to stay out of the sun.

Before 9 am, I accomplished getting rid of my headache, getting the kids off to school, and the lawn company magically appeared to mow the lawn. I then started working. My world did not magically combust because I didn’t focus on work first. It got better.

When you get diagnosed with cancer, or anything for that matter, or if something otherwise terrible happens, the first question often seems to be “why?” Why is this happening to me? There may never be a clear answer, but from here it looks like maybe I’m supposed to be paying attention to some very basic things and not let myself be swallowed up for the sake of doing everything I can to burn the candle at both ends.

I think for the past 20 years I’ve been trying to do my best at anything and everything. Now it’s time for me to do my best as some very basic and meaningful things.

Stifle Me Not

There’s a Clearing

Breast Cancer, Change, Healing, Learning

As much as I don’t love being a person on chemo treatment, not all of the days are bad. Maybe it started out that way, but there’s a clearing. There’s light. It’s not all doom and gloom.

My first week was rough, but the second week was way better. Easter Sunday was the 7th day since my first treatment and I was fine to go to my parents for Easter dinner, eat, and enjoy the kids getting spoiled by their grandparents. It was the kick-off to a good week.

The past couple of days I feel very normal, other than getting tired a little easier than I normally would. I went into work yesterday for the majority of the day. I came home and was tired, but not exhausted. It was a good productive day.

I think the biggest change for me is veering from my normal eating habits. I have to eat small, frequent meals and avoid acidic or citric foods. I like to eat flavorful and even spicy stuff, so this is odd for me. Also, carbonated beverages are not preferred right now. I usually drink a couple of sparking waters a day, but that is just not appealing right now.

What I wasn’t expecting as the days go on is I can adjust. I had adapted to my new normal of fearing nausea and eating only certain things I knew would agree with me, but now that we’re two weeks in, I can mix it up a little. Also, my energy has returned more. I definitely don’t want to go for a run, but doing errands and basic chores are not a problem. I’ve been working at home and gone in the office a couple of times, and it’s all working out.

I’m doing okay. It’s okay. Another day might be a bad day, but there’s a day after that. There’s a clearing, and it feels good to know I can still enjoy myself during this very different season of my life.

Stifle Me Not

Fighting the Good Fight Against Myself

Breast Cancer, Cancer Sucks, Change, God, Hope, Overthinking, Positive Attitude

It’s one week until I start chemo. I am, quite frankly, terrified.

I know this a last week of normal-as-I-know-it. I thought being diagnosed and having a mastectomy messed with my normal, but I returned to normalish pretty quickly after getting back to work. Returning to work helped me get back into a familiar routine. The worst of it is trying to quiet my mind about what’s next.

I’ve been trying hard not to try too hard. I’m trying to enjoy day as much as possible, but knowing chemo is right around the corner is really messing with me. I feel like I just got my life back from healing from surgery, and I appreciate each good morning. I wake up every morning and feel pretty good, think of what day it is, and immediately think of how many more days I have until I have strong drugs infused into my body. I woke up crying two days in a row, just because I was overwhelmed within my first few thoughts of the day.

Three weeks ago, I started on two drugs: an injection that’s supposed to suppress my ovary function and a daily aromatase inhibitor pill. The pill lowers estrogen levels, which helps to decrease growth of any breast cancer cells. Since getting the injection and being on the pills, I feel an overall difference in my body, energy, joints, etc. The first week was full of head and body aches. It improved by week 2. It’s not the worst, but it’s not a carefree-breezy-feeling-body anymore.

Last week, my doctor told me to stop the pill while I go through chemo and radiation. I’ve felt great since being off the pill for a week. I think my fear is valid. Not only are chemo and radiation going to have their own set of side effects, but there’s no returning to my current “normal”. After the major treatments are over, I’ll be on pills for a good part of the next decade.

The diagnosis I received in November is supposedly the “good kind” that is highly treatable. After learning of my diagnosis, it was immediately followed up with, “but it’s non-aggressive and treatable”. That made me feel better for a little while, until I experienced how the treatment makes me feel. What they don’t tell you is the drugs alter your everything. Your life flips upside down just as much as someone else’s life. In my case, instead of gradually entering into older age, I’m being forced into menopause (and more) all within a few months. This sounds so much simpler than it actually is.

Sounds. So. Simple.

People often refer to cancer patients as “fighters”. The definition of a fighter is someone who doesn’t easily admit defeat in spite of difficulties or opposition. The truth is, yes, you’re fighting, but you’re not fighting anything or anyone but yourself. You’re relinquishing complete control, and that’s the hardest part of the fight. I’m not in control of any of this. Yes, I’m questioning my treatment options along the way and making a few key decisions. But whichever path I take, I’m releasing control and having to trust outside of my own actions.

If you refuse treatment, you give up control of knowing what’s going on in your body. If you agree to treatment, you’re handing control over to doctors and nurses. Even if you’re somewhere in the middle, in which you agree to some treatment and not others, you’re still left with not really controlling a damn thing. Something could get away from you, or someone could screw up something. You’re constantly fighting you own doubts, worries, fears, etc.

So when you hear someone say, “he or she is a fighter”, it’s not untrue. They’ve become masters at fighting their constant thoughts and emotions. This is where mind over matter comes in. I’ve heard about this, but I see it now. I see how you have to keep your attitude going in a more positive direction to influence your physical well-being.

A mental battle I keep encountering is handling other people’s thoughts and emotions too. Not everyone operates the way I do, and that can frustrate me. I’ve already overanalyzed every possible thing about my treatment, so when someone else does it in front of me, I’m already over it. I don’t want to discount their valid feelings, but I also don’t want to spend more time on something I’ve already conquered in my own mind. I don’t want to be set back.

Something that does keep setting me back emotionally, which I really hate, is that I’m upset that my family is helping me out. Don’t get me wrong, I love my family and that they’re there for me. I’m so happy and blessed to have them. But I had a husband once upon a time, and he decided to cheat on me because he’s a selfish narcissist. Now he’s off having fun with his girlfriend, while avoiding serving an important caretaker role in my life. Now, 6 years later, of course I don’t want him to take care of me, but I can’t help but feel like I should be his mess. He should be the one taking me to appointments and worrying about me, but I know if he was here he’d blow the fight right out of me.

So I can’t help but wonder if all of this will have some weird twisty ending in which it was supposed to happen this way. And I continuously go back to God must be mysteriously up to something. I don’t know what it is, and I won’t know what it is for a while. But it’s all for something, even if it doesn’t feel that way.

Stifle Me Not

Preparing for the Next Journey

Breast Cancer, Change, Hair, Healing, Overthinking

I’ve come a long way, mentally and emotionally, since last Friday. Probably because I started back to work and it’s a nice distraction from sitting around on my couch for too long. Basically, being at work is preventing me from overthinking.

Since Friday morning, when I found out when my first chemo session will be, I’ve been a mix of anxious and relieved. Relieved because I have a better understanding of what to expect, but anxious because I’m not excited about what’s anticipated to come. I just want to get it over with.

On Saturday morning, I went to get a haircut. I originally scheduled the appointment for a hefty trim since I was returning to work. I ended up chopping off 3/4 of my hair in preparation of what’s to come. I wasn’t ready to go directly from long hair to a shaved head, so I made a plan to go with a short cut I’ve had in the past but don’t particularly like. Baby steps. I still have a lot of hair making up this short bob, but I figure this style will drive me crazy and I’ll be ready to shave it off once it’s time. Honestly, is anyone ever really ready to shave their head in a situation like this?

I’m actually more upset about the hair growth I must go through after chemo is all over. It took me 4 years to get my hair to where I liked it! Shaving my head is one thing, growing hair out is another journey altogether. I’m not going to have my hair back (the way I want it) for 1+ to 2 years.

I will survive, I know. That is the whole point of this of course.

Being back at work has been good for me. I’m surrounded by good people here. I’m busy without be stressed. They’re being very understanding and know I’m in for more challenges this year. That makes things so much easier.

So now I have a new countdown, to starting the rest of my life. Nineteen days until my first infusion. Please get me to June quickly.

Stifle Me Not