Jealous

Breast Cancer, Cancer Sucks

Today I went for a Chemo Teach appointment with a Nurse Practitioner. It was full of information about what I should do and can expect before, during, and after my first chemo session. I knew quite a bit of what she told me. It made me realize that I really have researched a lot and educated myself about as much as I can.

2-week countdown. Ugh.

I really can’t focus well right now. I don’t know if I’m stressed (probably) or if it’s the medication I started two weeks ago that’s messing with me, but I can’t focus. And when I try to accomplish anything, I get sidetracked and overwhelmed.

I’m also terribly jealous of anyone who is planning anything fun right now. The week I start chemo is Spring Break week. My kids will be out of town with their dad on vacation. And some of my co-workers are going on vacation. I’ve been slowly adapting to the reality that this year isn’t going to be the best, but now my love of the sun is being taken away from me. I’m supposed to stay out of the sun, obviously, while I’m in my treatment phase.

I don’t live a crazy party life. I work, eat, sleep, care for my children, go to the grocery store, cook, clean, and keep up with family and a few friends. I typically keep it low key and peaceful. I’m really not missing out on too much, but right now all “fun” possibilities are wiped out and it’s really bumming me out.

Dating is also out of the question right now. Like what am I going to say when I meet someone? “Hi, my name is … my life consists of working, taking care of my kids, and cancer treatments.” Ha! I think not.

Not that dating was going well last year anyhow. I attempted to date last July and again in October. Nope, and nope. I paused my dating life after the Oct dating flub, but two irregular mammograms and a biopsy ruined the rest of 2023 for me. I never did get “back out there.” Wherever “out there ” is.

I once started seeing a guy who, a couple of weeks in, told me that he had severe colon issues and he was about to get surgery done in the coming weeks. It wasn’t a quick fix surgery either. There were possibilities of complications, etc. I was perplexed as why he was actively dating???? He was rude early on and that quickly opened my eyes that he wasn’t a very good person. I think he wanted someone to take care of him. I felt bad for him, but I wasn’t going to be taking care of him.

And I don’t want anyone signing up to take care of me mid-cancer treatment either. That’s not fair to the other person.

That’s my other area of jealousy. It seems like everyone I know who’s had some kind of diagnosis like this has someone. I have my parents and siblings. I am beyond frustrated that they are helping me out. Don’t get me wrong, they’re all doing great helping me out, but it makes me silently furious at my ex-husband. He should’ve been the one taking me to appointments and helping me pick up medication. He should’ve been the one listening to me worry or help me make decisions. Not my parents.

I have to nix those thoughts each time though, or I’ll spiral. I’ll spiral into a world of anger and regret. It always starts with me thinking that maybe I should have tried harder, or stuck it out longer, or something… something different. And then I remember why I made the final decision to split — because it would not have ever changed. The criticisms. The cheating. The overall toxicity.

And then I remember how terrible he was at taking care of me while I had the flu. I can’t fathom my disappointment of being (not) cared for by him during cancer treatments. And this brings me back to reality that having my family take care of me is way better than not having anyone at all, even if I don’t have a significant other right now.

I don’t like this jealous me right now. I know I could have it much worse. I know my diagnosis is very treatable. I know I won’t be in this “treatment phase” forever.

All I can do is pray away the jealousy with the hope of better days to come.

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

The Power of a Second Opinion

Breast Cancer, God, Hair, Hope

Today is my last day of medical leave. On Monday I return to work, but it won’t be without more future days out. I thought that going to my oncologist appointment on February 19th would bring great relief. It was quite the opposite. Not only did I not get the treatment recommendation I was hoping for, but I completely refused it and left more confused than when I first started this whole process. I didn’t refuse out of being stubborn, I refused out of being confused. I can’t move forward with something that will affect my health without fully understanding it.

I would have been okay with getting a treatment recommendation I didn’t want if I understood why I was getting it. Up to this point, most signs pointed to no chemo for me. There was so much hype about this oncotype score I got, and when I got a “good” score paired that with the previous conversation with my doctor, I was in complete shock when she walked in the door and started reading from her computer (rather than looking me straight in the face) that “it is recommended that you get chemo”. Of course I questioned it. And she kept saying “it will be really strong, and over 6 months”. She said “there is a 7% difference between the group that gets the chemo and the group that doesn’t get the chemo”… but she didn’t specify what the 7% really meant. Recurrence? Mortality? I tried asking so many questions, but I was frustrated and couldn’t find all the words. Her answers were not explanations, they were couple-word answers as she peered at me over the top of her mask. I felt crazy. And I just didn’t like her. Her bedside manner quite frankly sucks.

Something about that type of chemo regimen for “early stage” breast cancer just wasn’t sitting well with me. That, paired with the fact that 7% didn’t seem like much of a difference to move forward. Also, that’s not all there is to my “plan”. There’s also radiation, hormone therapy, and an additional cancer drug. I left her office refusing chemo and proceeding with hormone therapy, with radiation scheduled in the coming weeks. I was pissed. I was at peace that I refused her recommendation, but not at peace that I knew enough to be confident in my decision for the long term.

I got a recommendation from my cousin for a second opinion. The next day I immediately called to schedule an appointment. They got me in one week later, which was yesterday.

I was so nervous. It was a virtual video call. I waited about two minutes for the oncologist to appear. Right away he told me he read my file and asked what the best way was he could help. I told him about my concerns with the chemo recommendation. His response was so clear and so confident. It was just what I needed. He said he did absolutely recommend chemo, but not the kind the original oncologist was prescribing for me. He said her plan was too much for what I actually needed. Her plan involved 6 months of frequent chemo. He was recommending 4 rounds of a less toxic chemo over the course of 12 weeks (once every three weeks). He then explained why it was important to get it. He agreed with the radiation, but he strongly disagreed with the cancer drug she was planning for me.

He was a light a big ray of clarity that I have needed this whole time. He stated his medical opinion (didn’t just read from a computer screen), and he shared why he thought that way, and he referenced facts and statistics.

I wanted him to be my doctor. The only problem is that he’s over an hour away from my home, and its logistically more complicated to be treated by him than to go with a doctor nearby. It’s not impossible, I was about to hop in my car and go to his office after being so pleased with how he communicated. He said he would discuss his approach with my original oncologist if she’d be willing to let me move forward with his treatment plan at my nearby facility.

That was at 3:00 yesterday afternoon. By 10 o’clock this morning, I received a call from my local cancer center scheduling me to move forward with his plan, under the direction of my original doctor. So they worked it out. I’m not jumping over the moon, because who wants chemo? I don’t think anyone is jumping for joy for getting an infusion, but I’m pleased with the outcome.

I now have clarity. I now have a plan. I hate confusion. I know there are no guarantees with any decision you make, but I’d at least like to have some amount of confidence I’m moving in the right direction for my own well-being.

I know I type this anonymously, so no one knows what I look like. I have fairly long dark brown hair. It has never been dyed, so it has strands of silver “tinsel” throughout it. I’ve always really liked my hair. I’ve had it short, as in a long bob, a few times in my lifetime, but for the most part, it’s part of who I am. It air dries in soft waves around my face, or sometimes I use the blow dryer and hair straightener to smooth it out. Either way, it looks natural and has always been part of me. I should probably be more worried about all of the drug side effects other than hair loss, but I’m pretty sad to part with my hair for a little while, no matter how vain that might sound. I also don’t want to see the reactions of others. I just don’t want to deal with it.

I was really hoping I could avoid chemo altogether and not have to worry about this at all. It’s just today that I’m realizing just how much I unconsciously play with strands of my hair while I’m doing other things.

I have a hair appointment already scheduled for tomorrow to cut some length off of it to start. I start chemo in 25 days. I already had a hair appointment set up just because I needed a fresh cut before returning to work, but I think I’m going to chop it off above my shoulders to start to lessen the shock when I do have to shave it off. And I’m not going to try to save it with a cold cap or anything like that. I will start from scratch.

Three months. I keep telling myself that by June, I can begin regrowing my hair.

Today was my last visit to the plastic surgeon for a while. I have an expander in, and it’s expanded to its potential. Now I wait to get real reconstruction after my treatment is all complete.

Cancer diagnosis was 11/23/23.

Mastectomy was 1/22/24.

Chemo will begin 3/25/24.

Radiation should begin June 2024.

Next visit with the plastic surgeon is scheduled 9/12/24. I am hopeful I can get reconstruction before the end of this year.

All of this sucks, but it sucks less knowing that I now have some milestones to achieve rather than living in a world of confusion and frustration. I’ve said a lot of prayers lately, and praying for clarity has been one of them. I stopped trying to pray for certain outcomes. God has a His reasons for those, but I pray He takes away my worry/fear/anxiety and gives me peace and clarity to keep moving forward.

In fact, quick story before I end. On February 22nd, a few days after my disappointing oncologist appointment, I was so distraught. I couldn’t concentrate, I kept crying. I wasn’t sure what to do. I already placed a call to my original doctor’s office about putting in for a second opinion, but I was waiting for the second doctor’s office to call me. I finally grabbed my rosary, looked up what mystery day it was, and started praying – all while sobbing big tears down my face. As soon as I finished the first set of ten beads, my phone rang. It was the second doctor’s office calling to set up my appointment. I was in a little bit of shock, but at that moment I knew I was on this path for a reason and God is watching out for me. I just have to trust Him. So I am.

Stifle Me Not

Week 4 Recovery

Healing, Hope

What a difference a fourth week of recovery makes. I thought I felt good after week 3, but now I’m getting to the end of week 4 and impressed with how much quicker I pop up from my seat, get in / out of the car, and even multi-task around my kitchen. Go me.

I’ve had no appointments to worry about this week. It’s been a nice break from doctors. Doctor visits cause emotions – good or bad. And emotions send my mind racing. It’s been nice to be left alone for a week. It’s just me, healing, listening to my body to move or rest. Just me doing my own thing without needing anyone to watch over me. My parents and siblings check on me regularly, which I fully appreciate. But I’m finally independent to drive my kids to and from school and sports. I even made a trip to the grocery store on Monday morning. It wasn’t the usual hustle & bustle of the grocery store, more of a calm pace of retirees and stock boys, but it was just the trial run I needed being out in public on my own again.

On Monday, Feb 19th, I will kick off the week going to the oncologist. This is my official appointment that sets the stage for the next few months. Chemo or no chemo? That is the question weighing on my mind. It must be fully weighing on me more than I realize because I had an awful dream. In this dream, I was told I needed one more test, and this test would be positive or negative. If it was one result, I’d die in a few days. If it was another result, everything would be fine.

I woke up before the result came back.

All this to say, clearly my next visit to the oncologist, and her interpretation of my recent tests, is getting to me, despite another doctor telling me “good news”. I can’t really rest easy until I hear it from the oncologist’s mouth.

It’s funny because a doctor visit is usually only about 15 to 20 minutes long. I spend all this time fretting about it, or more so trying not to fret about it, and then it’s a quick visit, I’m done, and what’s been said has been said. It’s so odd how everything matters and doesn’t matter.

I know either way I’ll be fine. I know either way I’ll get through whatever needs to be done. But man, this is a mental load. I’m trying to live each day looking forward to the good things of the day. The yummy meal for lunch, the fact that I can now fold laundry, a nice hot shower, and the fact that I don’t need to rely on anyone to pick up my kids from school. Those are now all very wonderful things.

I have two more weeks of medical leave left. I don’t intend on going back to work in the same way that I left. I started to worry about work details for a minute, but I plan to refocus my energy when I return. I need to make a change on my work habits when I return or it will eat me alive. Whether I have chemo or not, I know I’ll have radiation. So when I return, there is more that my body has to go through. And in however many more months, I’ll need another reconstructive surgery. I can’t afford the energy output at work that I used to use. It will be physically impossible.

I’m so blessed I’ve been working at my job for almost 5 years. I’ve built great relationships with everyone and have earned respect of the owners and officers. I won’t be at 100% at work for the next few months, but I think they’ll support me. I hope so.

This is quite the rambling blog post. Not much to share except that I’m grateful for each day and I’m feeling much better. I know a lot lies ahead, but right now the good outweighs the bad and that works for me.

Stifle Me Not

Hope

Breast Cancer, Healing, Hope

I’m grateful for this new week. This new week gave me hope. After not getting my drain removed last week, I was kind of down. It’s the little things that can get you down. Taking a shower with an attachment to your side, having to worry about changing out the gauze around it, and constantly having to track your drain levels is just exhausting. Also sleeping. Sleeping is challenging when you have to make sure you don’t roll over on, or accidentally pull on, your drain. I went through the motions all week, day-by-day doing all the things I could do, not thinking too far ahead just so I could keep going.

On Wednesday afternoon, I had an appointment with my radiation doctor. I put zero thought into this appointment. I had been jotting down questions for all of my other appointments, but I suppose I was just tired of it all. I viewed this visit as a simple consultation of what was to come in a few months. I had no hopes or fears for this visit. I was just showing up.

My stepmom picked me up. I was aggravated about going to another place with the damn drain in. Fast forward and we’re in the exam room waiting on the doctor. To my surprise, a younger female doctor appeared. She initially looked too young to be a doctor, but as discussion unfolded, she proved to clearly know her stuff. In the middle of our discussion, she blurted out that she saw my oncotype score had returned. And she asked if I wanted to know what it is?

What?

I was stunned. I wasn’t expecting to hear about this score until February 19th at my next oncologist visit. It was only February 7th at this point. I wanted to know, but I didn’t want to know…

Before I could say much more, she tells me that it’s 18.

This score can be anywhere between 1 – 100. If it’s over 25, you’re in for chemo. If it’s under 25, it’s a maybe, depending on how close it is to 25. My oncologist said last week, for me, it would need to be below 22. And here I’m learning that my score returned at 18. I almost started crying, except I wasn’t sure if it was real. I wasn’t sure if I should be excited by a different doctor telling me this information since it wasn’t my oncologist telling me it.

The radiation doctor said she’d be very surprised, and would question, if the oncologist did insist on chemo for me. She printed off my score results and explained them to me a little more. I was in shock. Happy shock. That was the most hope I’d had in two months. I loved that this doctor explained everything so well. She continued to talk through the radiation process with me and how to prepare for that. For an appointment that I had no expectations for, she sure turned my dreary outlook around, even with the drain still attached.

The next morning, I had another follow up appointment with the plastic surgeon. I suppressed my hopes for this visit because I didn’t want to set myself up for disappointment if they didn’t remove the drain again. But to my happy surprise, they did! I have never felt so free! My stepmom and I went to breakfast afterward. I happily drank coffee and ate French toast. In that moment, life was so good.

Today I woke up with no drain to worry about and hope of possibly not having chemo. What a great way to wake up! I drove my son to school, went to the drug store to pick up a couple things, and came home and made myself an omelet. I then took a very long shower. It was an overdue loooong shower. I’ve been so grateful all day.

I’ve been saying extra prayers the past few months. And many many people have been praying for me. I know on the surface when you hear “I’m praying for you”, it sounds like a nice thoughtful gesture. But I believe everyone’s prayers, including my own, are being heard and answered. I think there’s more than meets the eye going on here. I truly hope and continue pray that on February 19th I’m told chemo is not needed.

Stifle Me Not

Post-Surgery Slow Down

Breast Cancer, Healing

It’s been two weeks since my surgery. I thought I’d be up and on my laptop sooner than this, but honestly, that sucked and my healing timeline is proving to be longer than I thought. The last two weeks have been quite an experience. I came home the same day as my surgery, and it was deceptive coming home so early. The power of a nerve block is that you’re superhuman after surgery, but by Day 2 & 3, you just want to die.

Luckily, pain meds exist for a reason and got me through that first hard week. I thought I’d be bored or agitated. No. Quite the opposite. I was in a daze and unable to do much except listen to my mom nervous talk for 4 days straight and mindlessly scroll through social media. My whole family has been phenomenal with helping me out with my kids, bringing over food, etc. But with every pro there is a con. The pro is I can call a few people for help at any time, the con is I’ve had very little alone time in the past two weeks. This introvert loves her alone time. I can barely take a nap because someone is always checking on me. It’s amazing to be so loved and cared for, but it is also exhausting to not have the freedom I’m used to having. I know, it’s not a bad “con” to have. I’m just whining now. Not ungrateful, just missing my freedom.

The mastectomy itself was successful. My breast surgeon cleared out the cancer, including one compromised lymph node. All of my margins were negative (which is good!). She tested and removed 3 lymph nodes. 1 of the 3 lymph nodes were bad. It sounds like only have one bad lymph node is a good thing, but one is enough as a red flag for my oncologist. So overall, a good outcome from the cancer perspective.

From the vanity perspective, to my disappointment, I woke up from surgery to be informed that they could not do the reconstruction right away and I’m stuck with a plastic expander sewn in my chest for a few months. I wasn’t being vain when I asked the question, it was my quest for efficiency. I just did not want to have another surgery, but that is not the case. It was in my best interest to wait until my skin wasn’t so “stressed” to move forward with a more natural looking reconstruction. Sigh. Okay, fine. I’d been told this may be the better option.

One week after surgery, I had a week of three appointments. First up, my oncologist. She is direct, honest, and offers zero fluff. I appreciate her realism. I loathe her lack of bedside manner, which I didn’t know I appreciated until encountering my other doctors. My other doctors are masters at offering emotional support simply by being more communicative and not solely focusing on percentages of chance of survival. Low and behold, just like last time, I was in tears the evening after my oncologist visit. She keeps saying, if the recurrence rate returns too high, I’m in for 6 months of chemotherapy.

The day after the oncologist visit, I went to my breast surgeon. Right now, she is my favorite. Afterall, she eliminated the cancer cells from my body, and then she had good news about margins, and she helped me understand the need for chemo better, without making me cry. Something about being diagnosed with early (stage 2) breast cancer paired with 6 months of chemo wasn’t sitting right with me – sounds like an oxymoron. Like why do I need such a dosage for something that is “early” and “common” and “survivable”? I keep getting the same roundabout answer – it’s because I’m young. I don’t think of myself of young, but the doctors do. If you’re under 50, you’re “young”.

I guess the more years you have left to live naturally paired with your chance for recurrence, they turn up the dial on the precautions. I’m now waiting for a score, and oncotype score, to decide the fate of my treatment plan. Nothing like waiting on a number to dictate my future.

My third doctor appointment of the week was the plastic surgeon. He is the one I’ll see the most and be monitored by when it comes to the stitches and drain removal. I was so hopeful I’d get my drain removed. Not so. It was too soon. I made my next appointment for early this upcoming week, hopeful again that maybe it can come out. Having a drain attached to you for 2 weeks is exhausting and frustrating.

So my surgery and two weeks has come and gone. I truly thought I’d be doing more by now, at least be driving, but it isn’t so. And it’s okay. For some reason I’m meant to slow down. That thought keeps crossing my mind. There are times when live goes fast, and there are times when life goes slow. I guess I’m meant to go slow right now.

Stifle Me Not

1-Week Countdown

Breast Cancer, Cancer Sucks, Honesty, Motivation, Positive Attitude, Taking Charge, , , ,

My surgery is in one week. Since being diagnosed, I’ve come a long way mentally. It was a rollercoaster at first. There have been a lot of “hurry up and wait” moments. Last night was my final screening test before my surgery, a CT scan. Just what I wanted to do on a freezing Friday night in January – hang out in the ground floor level (aka basement) Radiology waiting room to drink crap for more body imaging. Luckily, they called me in early, so I didn’t have to wait as long as I thought. On my way home, I gripped the wheel the whole way while driving in cold, windy freezing rain. I told myself this is winter; this is how it is. This is just how it is.

I now have a week to get as much done as possible before surgery. This includes everything with work, home, kids, and informing people that are taking care of me about certain things. Certain things like… hey, here’s a schedule for each kid before, during, and after school… and hey, here’s an envelope to open only if I don’t wake up from my anesthesia.

I don’t have a will. I realize I should have one, but I wasn’t prepared for this. I threw together a quick 2-page document that outlines a few things and wishes, and I intend to revise it, but I don’t have a lawyer to make a significant plan right now. I don’t even have time for surgery. Good thing God is in charge, because I don’t have time for any of this!

I’m still not sure how I’ll stop being my usual active, busy self, but I suppose the music will stop and I’ll just have to stop as well. The last few weekends have been nonstop. This morning I was running around with my kids for about 4 hours. My daughter needed new running shoes and a haircut, and then my son had a soccer game. It’s all basic Saturday errands, but I won’t be able to drive for a few weeks after my surgery, and it’s really bothering me. I understand I won’t even feel well to drive, but I’m just so used to being physically independent to do whatever I want.

I have a mental checklist of all the things I want to do before I’m forced into restriction mode. I have to make sure my bathroom is clean, my floors are vacuumed, my sheets are changed, my laundry is all clean, etc. I’m also making a grocery list. I intend to make a run to Costco next weekend, so we’re stocked up on school snacks and toiletries, etc. I have an oil change scheduled for my car mid-week. I want to get a couple of books. It’s all basic stuff, many things that I do regularly anyhow, but I have the extra stress of knowing I won’t be able to freely do these things for about a month after my surgery.

Well, here we go, it’s a 1-week countdown to getting a mastectomy and reconstruction. Let’s hope I tackle everything and then some, so I can get the healing process started. This hard, but my mindset is in a good place right now. It helps that I have a wonderful family and friends checking on me. My prayers are more focused on “God, take these worries and anxieties away” more than anything else. Well, other than “God, please protect my kids throughout their day”.

Lately it feels like, if I can just subside the fear of what’s to come, I can get to it and through it.

Stifle Me Not

Not Alone

Breast Cancer, Cancer Sucks, Hope, ,

I’ve had some time to absorb my new health news, the news that I apparently have cancer. Cancer – what a word. It sounds like you’re dying before you even know you have it. It sounds awful. It makes people shudder. The actual word is uncomfortable to say and hear, and I’ve been trying to get used to knowing that I have it.

And what is cancer? It’s your body not handling its own cells properly. It’s your own body, gene mutation or not, overgrowing cells. We’ve conditioned ourselves to fear multiplying cells. The underlying reason behind the cells being out of control, and the degree of the aggressiveness of the cells, is all key to starting a treatment plan. But man, your gut instinct is to fear the worst.

Somehow, in the past couple of weeks, I’ve evened out. I’ve moved into the acceptance phase. I have two weeks until surgery, and I know as much information as possible at this point in the process. I’m noticing others around me are moving in the acceptance phase too. It’s weird. I still feel stuck in the twilight zone, like what is actually happening? But I’m not afraid like I was initially. I’m ready to push forward, keeping in mind that the pace of my brain may not be the same pace as my body.

Yesterday at work, I found out a co-worker of mine is having surgery next week after discovering a nodule on her lung. Lung cancer. She just found out the night before. I could see and feel the fear in her eyes. She was trying to be very matter of fact about it and trying to focus on her work. She kept telling me she was more worried about my condition and my upcoming surgery. Ugh, no, no one’s condition or surgery is better or worse than the other. I’ve never understood someone’s underlying feelings more in a moment than when she came in my office to tell me her news. Her cancer news.

I’ve had some time to absorb my news, but she only has a week to absorb her news.

This woman with lung cancer, she has been at our company for about 25 years. When I first started, 5 years ago, I didn’t like her. She was a know-it-all and rude. She always tried to be a hard ass. I quickly discovered she was a product of being one of the only female managers in a 100-year-old company – she developed copying mechanisms to keep up with/put up with all the personalities of the hard ass male managers over the years. When I came to the company, she wasn’t very kind on more than once occasion, and I let her have it right back. I wasn’t putting up with her negativity. A few years ago, the president was ready to terminate her. He’d had it with her negativity too and was ready to part ways with her.

A colleague of mine, and her direct manager, were called in to give our thoughts on her being terminated. It was tempting, I didn’t like her, but I knew the company would suffer without her, and I thought maybe she could improve if given the chance. I knew my perspective in my position was powerful and I could cause her professional damage if I didn’t tread carefully. The other manager and I insisted on keeping her. I wasn’t sure if it was worth pushing back at the time, but I’m glad I did. We witnessed her really working on herself over the past few years. She has turned into a whole new person, she shed the negativity, and I’ve really gotten to know her much better.

I’m very sorry to hear of her cancer news. But I kind of feel like we have this new bond. This understanding that no one else gets. I truly hope she comes out of this okay. And I know she feels the same way for me.

God has more prayers coming to him, and they aren’t for me this time.

Stifle Me Not

New Year, New Outlook

Breast Cancer, Change, Old Patterns, Perspective Shift, , ,

The New Year is a time to plan ahead. I feel like I can’t plan past January 22nd, my surgery date. I’ve never been in this situation before. This is so frustrating. No matter how much my brain understands what’s happening, my usual habits die hard. Everyone is talking about different things they’re planning to do in the future, and I’m here like, well, we’ll see how I feel in a few months. My daughter tries to ask me simple questions about her Spring sports, and it left me stressed and dazed. I’ve never had “I don’t know” as an answer for so many questions in all my life.

It almost feels like I’m going to be intentionally blocked from my usual lifestyle in order to change somehow, otherwise, I would never change. This has happened to me before, and I sense it’s happening again, although rather extreme means to get me to change don’t ya think? I guess major life changes choose you, you don’t usually choose them.

I would’ve never divorced my husband if it weren’t for him cheating. He wasn’t a healthy partner for me to be with in general. He was chipping away at my general well-being, but I made every excuse in the book for his behavior. Him cheating was, in my mind, the only reason I’d ever end things. Well, that day came, and even though it wasn’t an easy decision, it forced me to make a decision.

I feel like that’s what’s happening now. I am getting some clues lately, and it’s weighing on me. I am an A1 multitasker. From the moment I wake up to the second I drift off to sleep, I am doing multiple things and planning steps in the next few moments, days, weeks or months. I guess you could say I’m a woman. Haha! I do notice I may be more extreme than most, because I notice when other people aren’t or haven’t planned ahead. I’m always one step ahead of everyone else. And I’m tired. And I think this is a wake-up call to slow down.

My cancer is completely 100% fueled by hormones and there’s no genetic cause for it whatsoever. I’m not a doctor, but I have a sense of intuition that hasn’t let me down much. It could take years for me to figure out I’m accurate about something, but my hunches are often pretty close to the target.

I think my insane ability to multitask, plan, and organize is all a direct result of me coping with stress. When I was little, I hated to feel that pit in my stomach when something was wrong or I didn’t want to confront something or someone. I learned so well how to deal with stress that I don’t even know when I’m stressed anymore. I seriously don’t. Society has beat into our brains that women can do everything a man can do, or even do it better. Uh, no we can’t. I’m not built for this. I am out of my mind that I’ve been juggling a full-time job, two kids, and all the demands of a career and household, while simultaneously (occasionally) trying to date. Not to mention all of the little surprises that life in general throws at us.

No matter how many studies you put in front of me that “prove” stress doesn’t contribute to my type of cancer, I don’t believe it. There are many types of cancer and causes, so I’m not here saying stress causes all cancer. But if you look at my hormone-fueled cancer, it makes sense. Stress elevates cortisol, cortisol has an impact on estrogen. Estrogen, in my case, is growing cancer. I know environmental factors can contribute as well. There’s so much crap in our hygiene products and foods that it’s hard to say what is or isn’t a contributor. My gut is telling me I’ve underestimated the amount of stress I’ve taken on and dealt with in life so far.

I think I’m being nudged to cut back and reduce my stress, although that’s damn near impossible with two kids. I’m still going to worry about them and do all the things that all the moms in the world do for their kids. I don’t know the answer(s) yet on how I’m going to reduce stress, but the seed has been planted into my little brain, and I’m now consciously evaluating all of my habits that I call “normal”. This lifestyle of mine is slowly eroding me.

Two things happened this weekend that also led me down this path.

First, on Saturday evening, I was about to take my daughter’s friend home and I was stopped in my tracks due to my own lack of self-awareness. My daughter, her friend, and my son all piled in the car as I rushed around trying to get out the door. I had been doing work on my laptop and lost track of time. I had a case of sparkling water on the floor in the garage, and I bent down to grab a can before leaving. As I lifted my head up and twirled around to get into the car, I banged my head into the edge of the open car door (that I forgot was wide open). I immediately saw stars, wondered if I was bleeding, hushed the kids as they looked at me with wide eyes, and I went back into the house to get an ice pack. Luckily, I was not bleeding, and the immediate ice pack helped minimize the size of the knot on my forehead. But it’s two days later and that sucker still hurts. Why was I even rushing? I didn’t even realize I was rushing until I was made to slow down.

Second, last night on New Year’s Eve, I was getting ready to take my daughter to her boyfriend’s house. Right before leaving, I replaced the water filter in my refrigerator and began to run water through it, filling a big cup multiple times just to get the water flowing through the new filter and to make sure the water was clear. As I filled the big cup, I noticed it wasn’t filling much, but my daughter was ending her shower, so I figured it was just low water pressure. I took her to her boyfriend’s house, came back home, and began preparing some brownies to bake while also planning to cook some food in the air fryer while the brownies baked in the oven. As I opened the refrigerator to grab some eggs, I realized my entire refrigerator, including all the drawers, were filled with water.

What in the actual F*&K!?

Apparently, yours truly rushed through the filter replacement process and did not insert the filter tightly enough, causing water to come flowing out of the filter door and throughout the entire refrigerator. That clean-up process took about an hour, with lots of cursing and near tears moments.

When I first put the filter in, if you would’ve accused me of rushing and not putting it in tight enough, I would’ve fiercely denied such a thing had happened. However, hindsight is 20/20, and that is exactly what happened. I was rushing to do too many things.

My constant race through life is making me miss it. Or causing me to get injured or clean up more messes than I need to…

This cancer path is going to change me. I can resist it, or I can slow down and learn from it. Ugh, here we go. Time to take my own advice.

Stifle Me Not

The Waiting Game

Breast Cancer, Cancer Sucks, Change, Honesty

There are comfort zones you get into in life. Whether it be a job, a relationship, a lifestyle, etc. They always last for a certain amount of time… 1 year, 5 years, 7 years or more. But in my experience, no matter how long a comfort zone streak lasts, all good things must come to an end. That doesn’t mean you won’t find a new comfort zone, but it may be disruptive, no matter how big or small, as you transition to the next one.

In my 44 years of living, I’ve noticed that my comfort zones last approximately 7 years. Give or take a few years. I won’t count basic childhood years because that’s just a series of disruptions no matter how you look at it. Once I graduated from college, the 7-year phases began. At the end of college, when I was 21, I met my now ex-husband. It was all fun and dreams for 7 full years. We got married at 28. We had a child at 29, and before I knew it, the 30s slapped me in the face with a 7-year streak of learning how to parent. I had a second child one week before turning 36. 7 years of dating, 7 years of marriage/parenting, followed by a new 7-year streak of figuring out my marriage was sham, divorce, and learning how to live on my own with two kids. Not to mention I had a career change in there.

As I enter 2024, after 7 years of figuring out how to navigate this “new” divorced life, I’m now being thrust into another life. No matter what the circumstances in my life, I’ve always been “healthy”. Not being able to define myself as healthy is really throwing me for a loop. Getting up to drink coffee, go to work, take care of kids as usual, and not be considered a healthy person is really messing with me. I feel fine, I’m interacting with everyone fine, but… I’m not fine?

This waiting game from one phase to a next is about as psychotic as it gets. Telling someone they have cancer, but not doing anything about it for 2 full months seems like insanity. Today is Dec 29th. In exactly one month, I have 1-week post-op appointment with my oncologist. I’m not counting down the days to my surgery on Jan 22nd. I’m counting down the days to Jan 29th, when they tell me my recommended fate after my surgery. Surgery is like this big distraction leading up to the actual results that dictate how my next 7 years may or may not go.

I’m not excited to see what’s behind the next curtain. I’d rather the cancer curtain stay shut forever, but I guess this is the next leap out of a comfort zone for me. I want to say things happen for a reason, but that sounds like a load of radiant rainbow bullshit right now. So for the next 30 days I will be going to more appointments and preparing my kids and my work for my healing process. I kick off the New Year with a trip to the plastic surgeon on Jan 2nd. Goody goody gum drops.

I’m not going to be 100% positive. I’m going to be realistic with sprinkles of positivity and challenge-coping in between. I don’t plan on making some big “I’m going to beat this” statement, because I fully plan on living to be at least 92 and a half, plus I know this cancer was caught fairly early and is highly treatable. I just know it’s going to be a change from what I’m used to. I’m used to being 100% in control of every aspect of my life, and this is going to cause me to rely on others, which sounds like a damn nightmare.

It’s time to hurry up and wait for the next 30 days.

Stifle Me Not