Mountain Lion

Mountain Lion

................ In case you've ever wondered what crappy cancer is like................

"What’s it like to get a cancer diagnosis, and go through cancer surgery & treatment? It’s something like this: one day, you’re minding your own business, you open the fridge to get some breakfast, and OH MY GOD THERE’S A MOUNTAIN LION IN YOUR FRIDGE.

Wait, what? How? Why is there a mountain lion in your fridge? NO TIME TO EXPLAIN. RUN! THE MOUNTAIN LION WILL KILL YOU! UNLESS YOU FIND SOMETHING EVEN MORE FEROCIOUS TO KILL IT FIRST!

So you take off running, and the mountain lion is right behind you. You know the only thing that can kill a mountain lion is a bear, and the only bear is on top of the tallest mountain, so you better find that bear. You start running up the mountain in hopes of finding the bear. Your friends desperately want to help, but they are powerless against mountain lions, as mountain lions are killing machines. And even though they say they really want to help, most turn to run away because they fear the mountain lion will get them too. So you are alone. 

As you’re running up the mountain, you see other people fleeing their own mountain lions. Some of the mountain lions seem comparatively wimpy - they’re half grown and only have three legs or whatever, and you think to yourself - why couldn’t I have gotten one of those mountain lions? But then you look over at the people who are fleeing mountain lions the size of a monster truck with huge prehistoric saber fangs, and you feel terrible for even thinking that - and besides, who in their right mind would want to fight a mountain lion, even a three-legged one?

Finally, the person closest to you, whose job it is to take care of you - in my case, my husband - comes barging out of the woods and jumps on the mountain lion, whaling on it and screaming “DAMMIT MOUNTAIN LION, STOP TRYING TO EAT MY WIFE,” and the mountain lion punches your husband right in the face. Now your husband is rolling around on the ground clutching his nose, and he’s bought you some time, but you still need to get to the top of the mountain.

Eventually you reach the top, finally, and the bear is there. Waiting. For both of you. You rush right up to the bear, and the bear rushes the mountain lion, but the bear has to go through you to get to the mountain lion, and in doing so, the bear TOTALLY KICKS YOUR BUTT.

Then, IF YOU ARE LUCKY, the bear leaps on the mountain lion and they are locked in epic battle until finally the two of them roll off a cliff edge together. Maybe it's gone? You’re not sure - it fell off the cliff, but mountain lions are crafty. It could come back at any moment.

And some of your friends come running up to you later and say “that was amazing! You’re so brave, we’re so proud of you! You didn’t die! That must be a huge relief!”

Meanwhile, you blew out both your knees, you’re having an asthma attack, you twisted your ankle, and also you have been mauled by a bear. Your body is not the same.  This experience changes you. 

And everyone says “boy, you must be excited to walk down the mountain!” And all you can think as you stagger to your feet is “I never wanted to climb it in the first place.”

It's in the grey area

 

I’ve always found it interesting (and totally unfair) that gray signifies “old” on women but translates to “distinguished” on men.

We are constantly judged by our appearance (which is one of the main reasons women get reconstruction surgery). Ignoring that judgment is difficult, even when we know we should. Women struggle to fit into jeans that are too tight, wear flats if heels would make us taller, fret over freckles. But hair — in any color, style or texture — is a category all by itself. We are constantly straightening it, curling it, coloring it, cutting it, adding extensions to it, teasing it, spraying it, and don’t even get me started on how many bottles and jars of shampoos, conditioners and other hair products are littering bathroom shelves.

I don't have a problem with women who choose to color their hair, or any of the other many things they do to make themselves feel beautiful. I did it for over 30 years! I'm not judging! But for me, going grey has given me freedom that I didn't really know I was needing.

After crappy cancer, I switched to all natural products in my home, getting rid of toxins and carcinogens anywhere I could, and hair dye was just one of the things I decided not to put on my head again! I have a lot of insecurities that weren't there before crappy cancer (it changes a person) but when I look in the mirror and see my scars, flat chest, grey "highlights". . . . I'm pleased with my choices. I'm not gonna say I don't miss my boobs because I do! But, I'm so glad I got that foreign substance out of my body and I certainly didn't want to put something foreign back in! And that coalesced into being REAL with myself and others. No foobs for me (that's fake boobs for you novices), no fake hair color either! They just seemed to go hand in hand to my way of thinking!

I honestly do not care what others think, and I never have. If you look at me and see no curves where there should be, and curves where there SHOULDN'T be, then whatever you think is on you. Not my business.

It's in the grey area, but I'm happy with my choices. . . . . flat chest and grey hair has given me power over my own body!

RAW Truth

I started this blog to help ME cope with crappy cancer by writing my thoughts and feelings down. It has been therapeutic. If it helps another woman on this journey, that's a bonus, but not why I blog.

Today, a very raw and hurtful truth reared itself in Sunday school. We were in 2 Corinthians and the discussion centered on verse 4 about God being our comforter; He consoles us and is where we find peace. . . . and He has certainly done that for me. BUT then the discussion leaned toward how we are supposed to share that with others when they are in need. After listening to everyone talk about their personal stories of comforting others, all the hurt I've tried to hide and not deal with came tumbling to the surface. I let them know they weren't doing the wonderful job they thought they were. I gave them some RAW TRUTH about how I was abandoned and ignored when I needed it the most. I'm sure I embarrassed my husband. It will be hard and a little awkward to face them all again after today.

Nobody in my church family brought food while I was recovering. Only one person in my Sunday School class sent a card. Nobody called. NObody visited me. I was alone with only my husband, unable to do laundry, vacuum, cook, shower by myself. . . . . it was a painful recovery, physically and emotionally. I'm still recovering. Where were all my church family? Where were all my friends? I noticed they took meals to other people and helped others in times of need. Why not me? It's been 2 years and the pain of being abandoned, ignored and forgotten has never gone away.

A COMMENT ON FACEBOOK DOESN'T COUNT PEOPLE!!! (Read that again)

I wished I could've shared both the good and the bad of cancer’s aftermath with ANYone who would listen. I was good at faking my strength and that I was fine, so people assumed I was fine I suppose. As long as they couldn’t see the ways in which cancer had changed me, perhaps that made it easier for them to imagine that cancer hadn’t changed me at all. As anyone who’s gone through diagnosis and treatment knows, that's not true at all. I AM CHANGED! But nobody notices or asks.

Is it my flatness that makes them uncomfortable or makes them feel awkward? Is it difficult to see how my clothes hang without my breasts to fill them out? Maybe they'd rather not think about my breast free chest and what caused it, or maybe they are thinking that they might be next, or maybe my brave face and jokes about a lack of cleavage leaves them to think that I'm doing great. I'm told I look wonderful. I'm told that I appear strong. None of it is true. The raw truth is that I'm hurting and sad. I hate going to my Oncologist and surgeon, getting my blood drawn, and hands groping my flat chest for any changes. I have lasting side-effects from treatment, and I’ve had cancer-recurrence nightmares.


I was told today that everyone assumed I had tons of friends and was being surrounded by them and family. Yeah. . . . I thought I had tons of friends too, but crappy cancer showed me they weren't real. My husband was the family that surrounded me, and even he doesn't like to hear or talk about my "feelings" when it comes to this raw truth. So, I bottle it up inside.


I'm trying to get past it, and honestly thought I was doing better about putting the hurt away in a box in the back of my mind, at least until this morning. I have severe anxiety and hardly ever leave the house. Now, I'm not sure I'll even be able to go back to my Sunday School class after this morning. . . . . that's the raw truth! 
 
I've lost a lot.

I've lost my figure.
I've lost friends.
I've lost bone.
I've lost sleep.
I've lost hair and nails.
I've lost my energy.
I've lost my confidence.
I've lost my sex drive.
I've lost ME.

I've lost myself, the person I used to be. I'm trying to find the new me. But, I feel alone in that and it makes me really sad. Today only magnified my sadness with crappy cancer and all that I've lost. . . . and that's the raw truth. 

In the AFTER

There are so many things that your cancer team doesn't tell you. Not before, because their attitude is to just blindly trust them (and if you know me, I have to be in control so I studied and knew ALL the details before) but especially in the AFTER. Crappy cancer changes you, as you might expect, but once I recovered from whacking off my boobs (once referred to as an amputation) there's still some crappy things to deal with. There's physical and emotional demands that we are left to handle on our own.

There are bigger things that sometimes never fall into place, like talking to people who haven't had cancer about what it's like, (because they don't get it) and discussing facing the possibility of death, which not even your family members want to talk about. People just carry on as if I didn't have cancer and all is right in the world. This was a hurt that continues to this day because friends were lost.

I had to find my new normal, not really knowing how to do that. The one thing I do know is that I now have a sense of precious urgency, a feeling that life is fleeting and should be treasured and enjoyed, yet a strong and burning feeling that I need to explore it more. There are things I've dreamed of doing that feels more crucial than ever before. It feels like time is flying by and I have a limited amount left to enjoy and do the things I want to do, and that scares me.

Life is not the same because I realize how fragile it is. There's the fear of crappy cancer coming back which continually haunts me. I don't think about it as much as I used to in the beginning of the AFTER but it does sneak up on me sometimes. Especially when the internal itching that can't be scratched, or the stinging sensation of bee stings from the nerves trying to regenerate themselves. More especially when I'm waiting for the blood tests to come back every 6 months. I do a fairly good job of not allowing it to rule my life as I acknowledge it and choose to love the tiny moments that matter in my life now.

My life will forever be defined in terms of before crappy cancer and AFTER crappy cancer.

My Choice

I'm still having to defend my choice to go flat.

I've included an interesting article here about how a woman reclaimed her body. I hope you will read it and understand that there are many different ways that women choose to handle this crappy cancer diagnosis. https://www.npr.org/sections/health-shots/2018/11/02/663162657/she-chose-to-go-flat-and-wants-other-breast-cancer-survivors-to-know-they-can-to

For me, it was the freedom from another surgery; the freedom of not having to ever wear a bra again. It was getting rid of the fear of putting foreign objects into my body after removing crappy cancer. Oh sure, I could have chose to use my own stomach fat (of which I have plenty), but I didn't even like that idea of a very painful procedure, doubled over for 2-3 weeks, long recovery period. . . . . and for what? To make others more comfortable looking at me? It just wasn't something I ever even considered.

All the doctors kept telling me I could change my mind. I'm 61 sister!!! I don't need boobs anymore.  Deal with it. My choice.

By writing this blog, I've always purged my thoughts. Some have been eloquent, and others have been downright embarrassing. But, it's how I've healed. It's how I've dealt with crappy cancer. It's been therapeutic to me. My hope and prayer is that any other woman dealing with this crappy disease will find encouragement and inspiration to make an informed choice that's best for her and not let anybody talk her into something more or different. It's your body, sister! Do what makes YOU feel good about it, even if it means going flat.

Cancer Cure Breakthrough?

It’s estimated that nearly 40% of us will be diagnosed with crappy cancer in our lifetimes and, until very recently, we’ve had three basic options for dealing with that news. We’ve had surgery for at least 3,000 years. We added radiation therapy in 1896. Then in 1946, chemical warfare research led to the use of a mustard gas derivative (yes, you read that right) to poison the person, err . . . . .I mean the cancer cells, with chemotherapy. More recently, we also started poisoning crappy cancer through drugs that attempt to starve tumors of nutrients or blood supply.

Those traditional “cut, burn and poison” techniques are effective in less than half of cases. It’s a laudable medical accomplishment that also leaves behind the other half of cancer patients. According to the World Health Organizations international agency for research on cancer, that translates to 9,055,027 deaths worldwide in 2018 alone!!!

Recently, the Nobel Prize was awarded for two breakthrough scientific discoveries heralded as having “revolutionized cancer treatment”, and “fundamentally changed the way we view how cancer can be managed”. One of them went to a charismatic, harmonica-playing Texan named Jim Allison for his breakthrough advances in cancer immunotherapy. His discovery had resulted in transformative outcomes for cancer patients and a radical new direction for cancer research.

Crappy cancer is a HUGE money maker for the health care industry. How is it possible that cures have been discovered for polio, and many other diseases, but not cancer? One reason, I'm told, is because it's not just ONE disease. There are many different types of cancers. I had crappy breast cancer, but there's not just one breast cancer....there are many. I won't go into them all here, because if you are anything like me, you don't care unless you get it. THEN, and only then, will you educate yourself on the types, classes, stages, etc.

I pray that there is a cure in my lifetime, but my hope is in heaven and crappy cancer was not successful in killing me, so I'm blessed.  I remain hopefully skeptical in a cancer cure breakthrough.

Freaked out Flat

I never wear foobs. (That's fake boobs for you lay people) The purse I carry is a small cross body that holds my lipstick, phone, credit cards and (sometimes) cash. I'm sure it accentuates my flatness.

I don't pay any attention to other people looking at me, and I think for the most part, nobody notices. However, my brother recently pointed out two women that were staring at me with jaws dropped and eyes bugged out!

I had to laugh. It's been two years and my mind isn't constantly thinking about crappy cancer as much as it used to. . . . . . which was most of the time. But as women, they should know why my chest is flat. They should at least have some idea, wouldn't you think? I refuse to wear prosthesis to make others comfortable. My choice. The end.

Tribute to Life

I'm loving my life right now! Being a Mary Kay Beauty Consultant allows me to set my own schedule (no more 60 hour work weeks) and live the life I love! I have such a strong sisterhood in these women who were there for me during my cancer journey.

Recently, we attended Mary Kay Seminar in downtown Dallas, Texas. Our hotel was the Sheraton downtown. This beautiful park was right across from our hotel, and it was so amazing to see this among the tall statuesque buildings, concrete and mass transportation. It was serene and heart warming. Myself and another MK sister spent some time walking through here and discussing our journey through crappy cancer.

 

Myself and my Mary Kay sister, Maryann standing in front of the sign at the park...it was a true Tribute to Life!

 

What is Crappy Cancer?

 

 Knowledge is power. I researched so much when I was diagnosed, I knew the terminology, which went a long ways in helping me with my decision to go flat and forgo reconstruction. It also helped me in this journey to understand what was happening and how to heal my mind, body and spirit.

 

It's a big deal, pickle! You gotta make the commitment to fight crappy cancer no matter the stage or type. It's the first step...then commit to knowledge and education!

 

A positive outlook affects our health, even without crappy cancer in the body! ALWAYS check your mental welfare. Pray. Think positive thoughts!

  This was really cool! It was a visual of cancer in motion. Water constantly flowing and I could change the direction with my hand very easily. What a powerful visual!

 

These pictures do not do this sculpture justice! This was going into the sculpture....

 Coming through the sculpture.....

Coming out of the sculpture....

Sculpture explained. Another visual that was very powerful!

In summary....I hope you get a chance to see this powerful and moving park in downtown Dallas. I loved it. Crappy cancer changed me, but it hasn't defeated me. I live and hopefully inspire.