News Flash! I mean, Hot Flash!

Jeez. I know I'm not great with updates recently, but with this epic hot flash on a cool Sunday morning, 3 fans focused directly on my misery, all I can do is try and not pass out. Hence, I type.

This is still early for menopause, of course, but with the Tamoxifen Games, my hormones hate me. These flashes have been sneaking in and out. My period goes from every two weeks to a panicky 8 weeks.

It was hot as heck yesterday and the day before, but today? Nice and cool. Thank goodness this flash hit me in this. Nausea, profuse cold sweat, panic, wanting to peel my skin off like an amphibian. I'm sitting here in the kitchen, while hubby sleeps, in my undies with fans focused. I can't really take much more off, so I sit and wait as my entire body gives my spirit the middle finger. 

I'm going to have to start carrying around my Hot Girls Pearls bracelet for real.

When I was on the Toxicphen, my most major flashes happened in winter - I'd be walking around in the snow, stripped down to a tank top. Now? Egads. Between the flashes and lymphedema, I'm going to dislike my favorite season... a lot.


Anyway, went to my oncologist last Friday - 6 months late for a checkup. Why? I'm tired of docs. I saw all the others - GP, OB/GYN, dentist, blahblahblah. Had some work done on my tamoxified teeth. Everything else ok, blood a bit wacky but we're adjusting my supplementation and are going to recheck in a bit. But oncology? UGH.  Anyway, though we hate the hospital, our doc is cool. He knows we hate it. He booked my appointment himself. He spent extra time, as he always does. We like each other. He said, as always, I look great. It's cool, I'm taking extra good care of myself. Neurotic about working out and eating well. If I look at a photo of cake, I gain. It's a combo, in my opinion, of the tamoxifen screwing so badly with my hormones, and possibly aging. But my metabolism took a serious nosedive. Luckily, I have major OCD and have been too stubborn to let it go for too long. I've decided that I want to die totally hot. Life goals? Death goals? Eh. It's just a funny thought that when I'm cremated, I want to have a 6 pack. Hopefully that'll be less time in the cooker, and perhaps a little discount in the process.  ;)

Ah. These fans are keeping my nausea in check. I was about to dress and go to the gym, but I'd hate to have a hot flash there. Between the smells of smelly gym people, the looks of curiosity, the "are you ok" BS, and the fact that I don't want to know 97% of the people there, I'll wait it out.

I'd love to spend Mother's Day with my mother, but cancer stole her from me, 26 years ago.

Days like today are bittersweet. I can't walk around without seeing families taking mothers out, she in her "coolest" dress, holding dying flowers, children and husband slightly uncomfortable in their Sunday Finery, wishing that they could just hang out in sweats and eat microwaved popcorn in front of the TV. While they facebook on their phones.

Ah, Mother's Day.

I remember when I had a mom. It was a long time ago. She was the one person on the planet that I could look to when everyone else hurt me.

Honestly, Death, I could have given you a long list of folks that you could have taken away instead of her. A bunch of motherf*ckers who just needed to go. Not her.

At least I was on my own when she passed. I think she tried to wait as long as she could, to make sure I was far away enough.  So I could try and stop that pain cycle.

Well, it's 26 years later. Amazingly, a lot of those folks no longer affect me from afar. Perhaps because I've physically removed myself from their realm, but it took a long way to remove myself mentally. There are days... trust me. Usually set off by a familiar looking stranger, or an action seen, or a voice - but I've gotten pretty good at turning a blind heart that way. Why? Well, what good would it be to send hate to a stranger that only reminds me of a bad space? That person can't help how they look or sound or act, even in the most douchebaggy of ways. At least, not at the moment it happens in my radar.

Yeah. Who actually enjoys these days? Sure, it's nice to acknowledge folks. But, it's harsh to pressure society like this. I like the Japanese holidays - children's, women's, men's, aged, etc... I mean, women who have lost their moms, who had abusive moms, who are moms to criminals and addicts, women who can't become moms, no matter what hocus pocus or medical miracles they've tried... so, a LOT of people take this day to say, "Hey! Society tells me I'm an asshole/loser/failure today! I'll go out and drink until I'm blind! Yay, me!!!"

I know of very few functional families. Mostly, what I see in my friends and acquaintances, is that we all are imperfect. WHAT???

Yup. All of us. And we don't need no stinkin' holiday to remind us. I think I'll take the American holiday calendar and edit for our home. I'm fairly certain that  a lot of Japanese holidays shall be celebrated. This can only mean one thing - MORE POCKY!!!