Relief and Gratitude and a House Guest

I have a mouse.  He is freaking adorable, but he is not allowed to live in my house so the game of Catch or Kill is on.  I prefer “catch”, but if I have to resort to “kill”, I’ll do it, because mice aren’t very good house guests at all.  They use your good towels on their muddy feet, don’t put the little wrappy thing back on the bread, and put empty cartons back in the fridge.  I’m pretty ruthless about empty milk cartons.

I’ve spent the last week in a kind of frenzy of gratitude and excitement and fear.  The fabulous people who particpated in the boobiethon netted me $2,555.  You know,  the ‘thon has taken its fair share of flack over the years, because Komen was the main recipient (and for the boobies)–but, in case anyone ever tries to criticize them because the women who need it don’t benefit–send them to ME.  Send them here:   I am a breast cancer survivor and the Boobie-thon has just paid for the next 4+ months of my COBRA.  I don’t have the proper words to say how much this has meant to me.   I’ve tried thanking everyone who donated to me (I think I thanked a few of you twice–haha) and it feels like it was just this litany of “thank you, I’m overwhelmed, and OH MY GOSH!”.  hahaha.  If I babbled to you, I apologize.  I really was completely overwhelmed.  Thank you Mel for doing such a fantastic job as the organizer, and thank you Statia, for nominating me.  I love you guys so much.   I’d be remiss not to mention that Pete’s image  went up to $350, and my very good friend Jason is also auctioning off a shot for me (it ends Tuesday).  I have such amazing friends.  I really do.

Don't freak out--I was stopped at a red light when I snapped this.

There is a sense of relief that this little bit of attention is kind of over for me now, though.  I have to admit–I felt like HIDING a lot last week.  I have no idea how I suddenly became The Shy Girl, but oh maaan—I just felt so completely undeserving of all of the kindness directed my way.  I couldn’t look at my stats, because I’m so used to the 20 or so people who read this and when there’s suddenly 700 views on your blog…it’s scary to feel so opened up and vulnerable.  I’m not used to it.  :)  Overwhelmed.

Physically, I’m doing really well.  The hot flashes haven’t gone away completely–but, they have subsided.   I think I had one yesterday.  Hurrah for Effexor!   My hair–much to my chagrin–is very curly.   DO NOT WANT.   Seriously, I actually had a moment yesterday in which I missed my wigs desperately.  I feel terribly ungrateful for disliking my hair, because–helloooo, at least I have hair, right?   WHINGING!  I should stop that.  I’m just super lazy and hate fixing my hair every day.  Seriously I do not get how short hair is easier.  Ponytails are easy.  Massive amounts of hair gel are not.

What a difference a week can make!!!  For reals, people–my biggest complaint about my life right at this second is that I have to fix my hair.  I’m going to stop and just enjoy that for a minute or two.

Hey, those fancy movin’ pictures are nifty!

Seriously, I should have prepared something instead of trying to wing it.  It’s never pretty when I try to wing it.  :)  But, hey, that’s me up there, being my usual awkward self, trying to thank people and rambling on about hats and hair instead.  I am blessed with the best friends in the world, the best family in the world–and hey–I am also bless with meeting the best total strangers in the world.  If you’re reading this now, just feel free to assume that YOU are awesome and move forward with your life secure in that knowledge.

It’s Day 4 of the Boobiethon and they’re going strong over there–there’s a tweeting contest happening right now that you should totally try to win, and of course, they need both boys and girls to donate pictures.  My dear friend Pete is auctioning off one of his gorgeous pictures for me, and I am beyond overwhelmed by all of this.  I feel like I keep repeating the same thing over and over–thank you, thank you.  But, it is sincere and it is from the bottom of my heart.  Thank you.  Thank you to everyone who’s donated, thank you to everyone who’s passed my site along.  I feel so completely undeserving of such amazing support, and I look forward to the day that I can pay it forward.

I am so lucky.  I am.  I can never say it enough.  Thank you.

Change is inevitable. And scary. But good.

Our lives can spin out of control so quickly–and when you’re first diagnosed with cancer, the whirlwind you find yourself in does not seem to stop–ever.  I told a friend today it’s like busting through a series of brick walls.  You get through one, and there is another one standing directly in your path.  It’s the nature of it.  I’ve got this…idea of a quote I’ve read somewhere about tempering steel–and I’m pretty sure I’ve never seen a blacksmith banging a sword against the wall in order to make it sharper, so maybe I’m mixing up analogies.  Hang on, while I hit google,  will you?  Go get something to drink–or, if you like, go on and hit the link to the Boobiethon and peruse around for a few minutes, and I’ll meet you back here in 2 minutes!  Okay, I’m back and I found it!

The fire of adversity will melt you like butter, or temper you like steel. The choice is yours.

YAY!  I really like that quote.  Of course, in the time that I ran around google to find that quote, I also found more really cool clown make-up ideas, a recap of last Thursday’s Project Runway, and a dreamy picture that my friend Emily posted on my wall of Dylan Moran and I kind of lost the thread of this  post.  I am easily distracted by shiny things.

Now and Then

THREADS!  Yes, I know where I was going with this.  I fought so hard against the idea that cancer would change me.  I liked me!  I didn’t want me to change, to be different–I didn’t want to lose my breasts, I didn’t want to lose my hair, I didn’t want to be anything other than the girl I saw in the mirror in November of 2010.  The thing is…we all change.  I mean, that’s what life IS.  Things happen to all of us, good and bad, and we hit the brick wall or get tossed into the fire and then we come out..different.  So, maybe the ‘change’ bit is out of our control–but we can control the outcome.  Having breast cancer changed me–I mean, literally–helloooo to the Now and Then next to this paragraph.

So..yeah.  I’m different.  And, I fought so hard against it, but once I decided to accept the reality of what had happened to me, suddenly….I was okay with the changes–physical and mental.  I’m stronger and wiser and there are days that I am steel and fire and seriously, brick walls need to STEP OFF.  um…lest I give the impression of being a Super Hero here , there are also days that getting out of bed and getting dressed to leave the house feels like an insurmountable task.  But, even the ‘bad’ days and moments are tinged with this sense of being grateful to be here to experience the highs and lows of being alive.

My Aunt Puppy told me I ‘have a glow’ about me now.   I told her it was the hot flashes.  ;)

It’s Day 2 of the Boobiethon, and as I mentioned, I am the Bloggers Helping Bloggers recipient this year, and I am overwhelmed and completely out of ways to show how grateful I am to everyone who has donated this year.  I have alternated between fits of weeping and elation and introspection and I feel so humbled by the outpouring of help that’s been thrown my way.  I had $2.82 in my bank account on Friday–we were drowning and you guys have thrown us a lifeline.  So, thank you.  Thank you from me, thank you from my son, thank you from Pip and thank you from Emma.

Here I am again.  Grateful to be alive to experience something beyond any expectations that I had.

Thank you so much for that.

Thank you.

Lock your doors and hide your children!!

RUN FOR YOUR LIVES OMG!!!

I’m not going to hate on pink this October.  I know many women, many survivors and fighters dread October and I am so completely okay with anyone hating The Coming of the Pink, because I see the other side of the coin now.  I’ve had a foot in both worlds.

Please know, there are moments when I open my mailbox or try to buy a new spatula that I think I may cut some bitches over all the PINK in my life…but, I have to admit…the month of October, for all its merchandising and hype, is a really good opportunity to remind people to do self exams and schedule their mammograms.  I mean…how many of us found our lumps/were diagnosed around this time of year?  I don’t know any stats, but I’m willing to bet there are a great many women and men for whom October is The Month They Found Out.  I know it was for me.

That said, it’s once again time for the Boobiethon.  Why am I enraged  by one form of titillation, yet completely okay with another?  Oh, Dear Frantic Googler, I’m glad you asked.  I am a complex woman.  Full of mystery.  And caffeine.  And occasionally bacon.  My thoughts on the Boobiethon.  Let me show you them.

I know the history of it (which is a bit of an amusing story involving my Hot Internet Wife and very good friend, Statia).  I’ve known Mel for years and she is just awesome—because, I do have excellent taste in friends, if I do say so myself.  So, yeah–I know the women running it.  They’re awesome, they’re caring and smart.  They’ve raised nearly $75k  in the past 9 years and I hope this year turns out to be a record-breaker.

How is this different from those stupid bra memes I hate?  Because the bra memes are  coy and confusing and make no sense or reference to cancer at all.  The boobiethon talks about breast cancer.  Why are we here?  Breast. Cancer.  No one is coy about it. Men are involved, men are submitting shots–because men are affected, too.  Are men looking at the pay-per-boobie page?  Well, sure.  So are women.  Is it titillating?  Yeah, it is.  I have no issues with titillation if it reminds someone to get their mammogram scheduled.  Most of us love boobies.  I love them.  I loved mine—until they tried to kill me.  THEN I CUT THEM UP. (okay, okay–my SURGEON does the cutting)  Harrumph.  Murderous boobies get the knife in my house.

I know these women and I know that they are more than just their breasts, just as they know that I am more than just mine.

I know that “save the boobies!” tends to be the October battle cry.  But, I also know that it’s too late for so many of us to save our boobies and we had to concentrate on saving ourselves.  I would love to see ‘Save the Women’, but then that excludes men, so maybe we should concentrate on saving the people.

I would like that.