... so to speak.
I've kept this blog anonymous for so long. I'm going to glance at it, in full, when I have a moment (thank goodness for insomnia!), and then, I'll go public. It's taken a long time. I started this as a way to update a few people on my cancerous journey - and found that people, strangers, were subscribing. It seemed weird at first, but there are so many of us out there!
Now that I'm 6.5 years into my cancer life, and I'm still productive, crazy, a pretty good mom (or so I'm told!), a wife who has somehow kept up with her marriage and her equally nutsy husband while both working as musicians (which, by default, makes us "not normal" by any means). I don't have any secrets to my success, so to speak. I live life. I make a ton of mistakes. Once in a while, I do things right. And, I like to share those things, so that others can do better than I am doing! It's a community and not a contest. And, I've been in the mood to share a lot more. Cancer is here to stay, but life is short.
Tuesday, January 8, 2019
Saturday, December 29, 2018
It's been a long time...
... and I'm still alive! Yay!?
Sorry for my few stragglers who are still popping in once in a blue moon to see if I've written.
The Cancer World has not been a friendly place. It seems that there has been quite a bit of bullying, competing for "most cancerous" or something. I dunno. It just feels like ego inflation has been at an all time high. I work in the spotlight for a living, I don't need a spotlight for dying.
So I've been sitting back and trying to not look too closely. But, people I love are being hurt. I've been talking them down, behind the scenes. Quoting The Four Agreements has been a help to others, and myself. I like to remember that my friends are not being attacked. The attackers are self-hating cancer patients. Super weird.
But, a few moments in the past few months have started to eek me back into the cancer advocacy vibe. I'll get there. It's just been too ridiculous to even put my own emotions, reputation, or total vibe on the line. Screw that.
Meanwhile, an update on hormones! Yay!
So, for those of you who have been following the bouncing implant, it's been almost 2 years since my last cycle. Yep. In February, I'll be able to say that I haven't needed any feminine hygiene products for 2 whole years! Sounds fun? Nope. My hormones, hot flashes, weight management - a freaking disaster. Of course, the holidays haven't helped. Also, my arthritis. I had a full scan less than a year ago, since we thought it was possible that my cancer had gone all stupid metastatic to my left hip. The pain was unbearable, at times. I say was, but let's just say "is". Turns out, I have arthritis everywhere. Yes. Every freaking toe. Yes, my ass bone. I laugh about it, but it's not funny. I'd rather laugh than cry, which I do anyway when it's bad.
Thank goodness for CBD. I am prescribed, but it's ridiculously expensive through the state. I buy online, but it's also kind of pricey. But, it works. Sublingually, topically, vapeally. Yep. I made up a new word. My favorite is sublingual because it's so fast.
Mornings are particularly terrible. I mean, I tend to wake up early, and literally lie in bed, look at my phone to try and wake up while my joints scream bloody murder. If I get up too soon, I literally can not walk. Yesterday, I had a photo shoot for a cancer thingy (yep, we have thingies!) and I knew I was under the gun schedule-wise. Got up sooner than I normally would want to, and - you guessed it (maybe?) - I went over. I mean, my ankles couldn't handle my body weight yet. I went OVER. I landed on my iPad tray (which is connected to the bed, or WAS! I removed it last night) which incredibly didn't break (sturdy little thing!), and then somehow bounced onto the floor, on my (non lymphedema) arm. So, there I was. I once was a gymnast. I was a personal trainer. I work out almost daily (except these darned holidays, and these bad arthritic mornings when my cardio is softly weeping), but I could not stand up. With a photo/video shoot in a few hours, I now had a completely red and painful upper arm. From my freaking deltoid, along my tricep, to almost my elbow. Seriously. The entire side of my arm. Bright red. Throbbing and painful. My husband, who had gotten home a few hours before from work (late night, poor guy), woke up startled. I told him it was nothing, and sorry to wake him, and I stifled my screaming and sobbing and hobbled out of the bedroom. I think I dropped my ego somewhere along the way. I felt defeated. I somehow made it to the bathroom, looked at my arm, and laughed through tears. Seriously - why not tomorrow? So, for my crunched schedule - I used my "gym time" to ice my arm, while taking arnica and CBD sublingual, then smearing this arnica goop all over my arm, letting it dry to a crusty icky flaky thing, then washing that off and rubbing some CBD balm into my skin. It was a pretty amazing transformation. About an hour of babying my arm, and it had a much smaller bruise than it should have. A great coverup for clumsy people like melater, and I didn't look like a battered wife. They did have to touch it up at the shoot. And no, I didn't tell them of my 90 year old morning. I remembered seeing my great grandmother with bruises all over, and now totally get it. She lived with her 4 sisters, all in their 90's, and I don't believe that any of them were wrestling or boxing in their spare time.
So, here I am. This morning, I gave myself the required time I needed, which was about 45 minutes. Looking through my social media garbage. Online window shopping (you should see how many pairs of shoes I bought in my mind!!!) and email deleting. When I got up, the room started to spin. But, I held steadily (onto my dresser) and after about a minute, felt it was safe to venture out into the hallway. I wonder if the day will come when I need to install railings in our hallway. Of course, we could use them to stretch and do ballet moves, so it's not all bad. Hmmm. I do have a few tutu's!
Well, whatever. I now know that I'm not my actual age. I'm twice that. But I'll keep doing my roots and moisturizing and working out and drinking water. Because, my denial will still be riding strong, for as long as possible. Joints be damned.
The shoot was wonderful. A long day. But it was really nice to be surrounded by positivity in the cancer world. I used to be the type to put her fists up and talk back to the schoolyard bullies. No more. Life is ridiculously short. Those people can find other opponents. I choose peace.
So, now that I've been up for almost 3 hours (I woke up starting at about 4:30am - this lymphedema makes my bladder act the same age as my joints!), I'm going to hustle to the gym. After another coffee. My new coffee kick, when hubs is sleeping (we use really nice organic beans, freshly ground, and it's impossible to resist) is my Turkish coffee vibe. I went to Turkey last year on biz, and loved the coffee. I didn't get a chance to buy any while there - but I couldn't stop dreaming of it so I bought this stuff and it's amazing! I tried to make it the traditional way, and it was way too much work for me! So, I did some poking around, and found that a lot of people use it like instant. GENIUS! It's super super finely ground, so a tablespoon of that with a scoop of erythritol or a few drops of stevia, combined with our super filtered alkaline water? (by the way, this has been our magic water filter since my diagnosis - it's INCREDIBLE and worth the $$ - nothing to hook up, free standing!) ZING! Just don't drink the grounds at the bottom (or do... I mean, it's just coffee! I kind of like crunching it a little, but I've been told I'm a little strange) Cardamom in the coffee (built in) makes it extra yummy. When I get home from the gym, however, I enjoy our french pressed organic filtered alkaline coffee with grass fed ghee, MCT oil, cinnamon, cayenne, ginger, reishi, and a scoop of grass fed gelatin (and stevia, monkfruit, or erythritol - they all taste so different to me, so it depends on my mood!) Technically, I'm not intermittent fasting when I have this, but it helps me sustain my faux-fast. And it's delicious.
Ok, seriously. To the gym. In the past 2 weeks, I've been so busy, in pain, etc. blah blah blah, that I've not worked out like usual. And, I'm 5 lbs heavier to show for it. I swear, I have the metabolism of a rock. A rock with cancer.
xo
Sorry for my few stragglers who are still popping in once in a blue moon to see if I've written.
The Cancer World has not been a friendly place. It seems that there has been quite a bit of bullying, competing for "most cancerous" or something. I dunno. It just feels like ego inflation has been at an all time high. I work in the spotlight for a living, I don't need a spotlight for dying.
So I've been sitting back and trying to not look too closely. But, people I love are being hurt. I've been talking them down, behind the scenes. Quoting The Four Agreements has been a help to others, and myself. I like to remember that my friends are not being attacked. The attackers are self-hating cancer patients. Super weird.
But, a few moments in the past few months have started to eek me back into the cancer advocacy vibe. I'll get there. It's just been too ridiculous to even put my own emotions, reputation, or total vibe on the line. Screw that.
Meanwhile, an update on hormones! Yay!
So, for those of you who have been following the bouncing implant, it's been almost 2 years since my last cycle. Yep. In February, I'll be able to say that I haven't needed any feminine hygiene products for 2 whole years! Sounds fun? Nope. My hormones, hot flashes, weight management - a freaking disaster. Of course, the holidays haven't helped. Also, my arthritis. I had a full scan less than a year ago, since we thought it was possible that my cancer had gone all stupid metastatic to my left hip. The pain was unbearable, at times. I say was, but let's just say "is". Turns out, I have arthritis everywhere. Yes. Every freaking toe. Yes, my ass bone. I laugh about it, but it's not funny. I'd rather laugh than cry, which I do anyway when it's bad.
Thank goodness for CBD. I am prescribed, but it's ridiculously expensive through the state. I buy online, but it's also kind of pricey. But, it works. Sublingually, topically, vapeally. Yep. I made up a new word. My favorite is sublingual because it's so fast.
Mornings are particularly terrible. I mean, I tend to wake up early, and literally lie in bed, look at my phone to try and wake up while my joints scream bloody murder. If I get up too soon, I literally can not walk. Yesterday, I had a photo shoot for a cancer thingy (yep, we have thingies!) and I knew I was under the gun schedule-wise. Got up sooner than I normally would want to, and - you guessed it (maybe?) - I went over. I mean, my ankles couldn't handle my body weight yet. I went OVER. I landed on my iPad tray (which is connected to the bed, or WAS! I removed it last night) which incredibly didn't break (sturdy little thing!), and then somehow bounced onto the floor, on my (non lymphedema) arm. So, there I was. I once was a gymnast. I was a personal trainer. I work out almost daily (except these darned holidays, and these bad arthritic mornings when my cardio is softly weeping), but I could not stand up. With a photo/video shoot in a few hours, I now had a completely red and painful upper arm. From my freaking deltoid, along my tricep, to almost my elbow. Seriously. The entire side of my arm. Bright red. Throbbing and painful. My husband, who had gotten home a few hours before from work (late night, poor guy), woke up startled. I told him it was nothing, and sorry to wake him, and I stifled my screaming and sobbing and hobbled out of the bedroom. I think I dropped my ego somewhere along the way. I felt defeated. I somehow made it to the bathroom, looked at my arm, and laughed through tears. Seriously - why not tomorrow? So, for my crunched schedule - I used my "gym time" to ice my arm, while taking arnica and CBD sublingual, then smearing this arnica goop all over my arm, letting it dry to a crusty icky flaky thing, then washing that off and rubbing some CBD balm into my skin. It was a pretty amazing transformation. About an hour of babying my arm, and it had a much smaller bruise than it should have. A great coverup for clumsy people like melater, and I didn't look like a battered wife. They did have to touch it up at the shoot. And no, I didn't tell them of my 90 year old morning. I remembered seeing my great grandmother with bruises all over, and now totally get it. She lived with her 4 sisters, all in their 90's, and I don't believe that any of them were wrestling or boxing in their spare time.
So, here I am. This morning, I gave myself the required time I needed, which was about 45 minutes. Looking through my social media garbage. Online window shopping (you should see how many pairs of shoes I bought in my mind!!!) and email deleting. When I got up, the room started to spin. But, I held steadily (onto my dresser) and after about a minute, felt it was safe to venture out into the hallway. I wonder if the day will come when I need to install railings in our hallway. Of course, we could use them to stretch and do ballet moves, so it's not all bad. Hmmm. I do have a few tutu's!
Well, whatever. I now know that I'm not my actual age. I'm twice that. But I'll keep doing my roots and moisturizing and working out and drinking water. Because, my denial will still be riding strong, for as long as possible. Joints be damned.
The shoot was wonderful. A long day. But it was really nice to be surrounded by positivity in the cancer world. I used to be the type to put her fists up and talk back to the schoolyard bullies. No more. Life is ridiculously short. Those people can find other opponents. I choose peace.
So, now that I've been up for almost 3 hours (I woke up starting at about 4:30am - this lymphedema makes my bladder act the same age as my joints!), I'm going to hustle to the gym. After another coffee. My new coffee kick, when hubs is sleeping (we use really nice organic beans, freshly ground, and it's impossible to resist) is my Turkish coffee vibe. I went to Turkey last year on biz, and loved the coffee. I didn't get a chance to buy any while there - but I couldn't stop dreaming of it so I bought this stuff and it's amazing! I tried to make it the traditional way, and it was way too much work for me! So, I did some poking around, and found that a lot of people use it like instant. GENIUS! It's super super finely ground, so a tablespoon of that with a scoop of erythritol or a few drops of stevia, combined with our super filtered alkaline water? (by the way, this has been our magic water filter since my diagnosis - it's INCREDIBLE and worth the $$ - nothing to hook up, free standing!) ZING! Just don't drink the grounds at the bottom (or do... I mean, it's just coffee! I kind of like crunching it a little, but I've been told I'm a little strange) Cardamom in the coffee (built in) makes it extra yummy. When I get home from the gym, however, I enjoy our french pressed organic filtered alkaline coffee with grass fed ghee, MCT oil, cinnamon, cayenne, ginger, reishi, and a scoop of grass fed gelatin (and stevia, monkfruit, or erythritol - they all taste so different to me, so it depends on my mood!) Technically, I'm not intermittent fasting when I have this, but it helps me sustain my faux-fast. And it's delicious.
Ok, seriously. To the gym. In the past 2 weeks, I've been so busy, in pain, etc. blah blah blah, that I've not worked out like usual. And, I'm 5 lbs heavier to show for it. I swear, I have the metabolism of a rock. A rock with cancer.
xo
Thursday, August 10, 2017
Life and Death, as we know it.
It's been months. I know. I'm a terrible blogger! I was better when I was going through the sh*tstorm of western medicine. Interesting.
People are dying all around me. I feel as if I'm in the eye of a tornado. Somehow, I'm suspended in time as others fall into the vortex of the graveyard.
But, I go on. I do what I can to help others. I do what I can to keep my family happy. Sometimes, that means lying about how I feel. Sometimes, there's no point in complaining, because it only brings sympathy, or empathy, or some other pathy. If there's no bandaid for what hurts, I'll just keep limping.
Actually, I am limping. I pulled something in my leg a few days ago, but I've been rubbing holistic muscle goop into it, stretching, and it's working its way out. See? No reason to complain. It wasn't enough to go to a doc. I did see my massage therapist who went to town. I didn't even tell her about it, because my neck, shoulders and back are always a mess for a variety of delightful reasons. But, she found that sucker and, she lives by the "no mercy" rule. Well, we haven't discussed that, but she will go TO TOWN on any adhesion until it simply gives up. She jumps on the table, she uses her elbow like a slow but powerful jackhammer. I hope she never leaves NY.
Most days, I am super grateful to be here still. Other days, I feel as if I'm on borrowed time, and wonder when it will run out. Tick. Tock.
People are dying all around me. I feel as if I'm in the eye of a tornado. Somehow, I'm suspended in time as others fall into the vortex of the graveyard.
But, I go on. I do what I can to help others. I do what I can to keep my family happy. Sometimes, that means lying about how I feel. Sometimes, there's no point in complaining, because it only brings sympathy, or empathy, or some other pathy. If there's no bandaid for what hurts, I'll just keep limping.
Actually, I am limping. I pulled something in my leg a few days ago, but I've been rubbing holistic muscle goop into it, stretching, and it's working its way out. See? No reason to complain. It wasn't enough to go to a doc. I did see my massage therapist who went to town. I didn't even tell her about it, because my neck, shoulders and back are always a mess for a variety of delightful reasons. But, she found that sucker and, she lives by the "no mercy" rule. Well, we haven't discussed that, but she will go TO TOWN on any adhesion until it simply gives up. She jumps on the table, she uses her elbow like a slow but powerful jackhammer. I hope she never leaves NY.
Most days, I am super grateful to be here still. Other days, I feel as if I'm on borrowed time, and wonder when it will run out. Tick. Tock.
Tuesday, May 9, 2017
Death surrounds us
I have been really quiet, lately. Basically, a whole bunch of amazing people have died around me. The latest was last night. I go between grief and numbness. I wonder when my number is up. I wonder if my short term goal is too ambitious now.
I feel this urgent need to get everything in order. I did have a will drawn up upon diagnosis, but I need to update it and fine tune it. I also need to get all of my paperwork in order. I have been playing around with memorial ideas for a long time, but need to solidify it. I sure hope people step up, because hubby can not handle or afford the burden of stupid crap like that. No flowers. No somber music. No body. Burn, baby, burn. Heck, put my ashes in a paper cup, or dump them into the kitty litter. It doesn't matter. Why do people put so much thought and cash into a dead body? I can't look when there is a wake. It's not the person. It's a bunch of rotting flesh and stuff. They're long gone from this vessel. They're probably floating above, thinking of how gross it is to have their old body laid out for all to see. And coffins? Super expensive... for what? All that land? Really? Why not build a homeless shelter, or a medical facility, or a farm, or a non profit building to help others? A bunch of rotting flesh and bones in very expensive boxes under the ground seems dumb, to me. I know. It's some sort of odd tradition. I don't get it. Light a match and perhaps dump me in the dirt so I can help the world by fertilizing something. Eh. Whatever.
Like I said. Grief to numbness. I'm numb right now. I'm not ready to go. Neither were any of the people I've lost in the past month. It's coming, for all of us. Can I get 2 weeks notice?
I feel this urgent need to get everything in order. I did have a will drawn up upon diagnosis, but I need to update it and fine tune it. I also need to get all of my paperwork in order. I have been playing around with memorial ideas for a long time, but need to solidify it. I sure hope people step up, because hubby can not handle or afford the burden of stupid crap like that. No flowers. No somber music. No body. Burn, baby, burn. Heck, put my ashes in a paper cup, or dump them into the kitty litter. It doesn't matter. Why do people put so much thought and cash into a dead body? I can't look when there is a wake. It's not the person. It's a bunch of rotting flesh and stuff. They're long gone from this vessel. They're probably floating above, thinking of how gross it is to have their old body laid out for all to see. And coffins? Super expensive... for what? All that land? Really? Why not build a homeless shelter, or a medical facility, or a farm, or a non profit building to help others? A bunch of rotting flesh and bones in very expensive boxes under the ground seems dumb, to me. I know. It's some sort of odd tradition. I don't get it. Light a match and perhaps dump me in the dirt so I can help the world by fertilizing something. Eh. Whatever.
Like I said. Grief to numbness. I'm numb right now. I'm not ready to go. Neither were any of the people I've lost in the past month. It's coming, for all of us. Can I get 2 weeks notice?
Saturday, February 11, 2017
Life as an old lady in a not as old body.
Sigh.
So, I have a pretty big deal thing coming up. It requires me to strut, almost naked, in front of a packed room with cameras, video, etc. going on.
I had successfully been losing to my menopause, gaining almost 10 lbs. At my size, other people don't seem to really notice, but I feel everything. It got hard to breathe. It was hard to move. I felt defeated.
Then I got asked to do this pretty big deal thing. Sure!
Wait, what did I just say?
I can NOT lumber along the runway with a baker's dozen of muffin tops poking out of my tree trunk core like wild mushrooms in the woods.
SO, I've been painfully good. I mean, and don't lecture me, basically eating one small meal in the early evening. Yes, I have my coffee that is loaded with calories and fat, the bulletproof kind of concoction I love. So, there's that. And all day? Water. Tea. More water. A spot of more tea. Way more hydration that usual, which is usually a lot. Some random grapes or whatever is not a 200 calorie protein bar. Around 4:30pm or so, when I feel like I can choose between passing out and speaking with the spirits, I eat. Salad - LOTS of salad. With avocado. Maybe a small organic beef patty. Small piece of organic, grass fed steak. The other night, my daughter baked plain chicken wings. I had 2. THIS IS HARD! How do anorexics do this? I'm probably gluttonous compared to them. *anorexia=not me*
2 nights ago, I was cleaning the place. Nothing major. No big lifting, just doing things. I fell on my non-lymphedema arm. Hard. WHY? Because, I didn't want to fall on my lymphedema arm and end up in the hospital.
So, there I was. Elegantly sprawled on my side, unable to move or speak. I guess I'm not used to being clumsy. This has been happening since radiation. Yeah. The stuff that destroyed me but let my cancer live. THAT radiation.
It was painful enough that I worried I had broken a bone. Which, I have never done in my life. I realized I was able to move my arm, though painfully.
After 2 days of home remedies, my cantaloupe sized bruise is still the same size, but has reached light purple today. It still hurts like a mofo. What have I been doing? Glad you asked.
My Weirdo Treatments for Healing a Bruise so that when I'm doing the Pretty Big Deal Thing:
Ice the first night. On for as long as it felt good, then off to throw the broccoli back in the freezer and warm up. Arnica in between icings.
First Technical Day:Arnica fairly obsessively. Read that bromelain is good. Take bromelain supplements and eat half of a pineapple after measly salad.
Second Technical Day: Witch Hazel and arnica alternating in morning. Make a paste of vitamin c powder. Apply to bruise and let dry. Rinse and repeat. The third application, I left it on and put a huge bandaid not quite enough to fit over it, but good enough, and go to gym. Still need to be as waify as possible. Come home. Shower, witch hazel, fancy new bruise cream just purchased, when dry, apply vitamin c paste, repeat ad nauseum. Eat other half of pineapple. Follow by salad and grapes. Wonder if models hate food or themselves. Eh. I guess if I was making mucho bank for being skinny, I'd weigh about 75 lbs.
So, today is that day. Tomorrow is the Pretty Big Deal Thing.
I have crazy strong makeup that, if layered enough times, will cover it pretty much.
So, what are my plans for tonight, besides worry? Seems like enough activity to me! Especially since I just did my nails.
But on my nightstand, like last night, will be witch hazel, cotton, arnica, new fancy bruise stuff... yup. A racy Saturday night.
So, there you have it. Hopefully it'll be a lot better soon. Or, I'll need to find a good bulk pineapple dealer.
So, I have a pretty big deal thing coming up. It requires me to strut, almost naked, in front of a packed room with cameras, video, etc. going on.
I had successfully been losing to my menopause, gaining almost 10 lbs. At my size, other people don't seem to really notice, but I feel everything. It got hard to breathe. It was hard to move. I felt defeated.
Then I got asked to do this pretty big deal thing. Sure!
Wait, what did I just say?
I can NOT lumber along the runway with a baker's dozen of muffin tops poking out of my tree trunk core like wild mushrooms in the woods.
SO, I've been painfully good. I mean, and don't lecture me, basically eating one small meal in the early evening. Yes, I have my coffee that is loaded with calories and fat, the bulletproof kind of concoction I love. So, there's that. And all day? Water. Tea. More water. A spot of more tea. Way more hydration that usual, which is usually a lot. Some random grapes or whatever is not a 200 calorie protein bar. Around 4:30pm or so, when I feel like I can choose between passing out and speaking with the spirits, I eat. Salad - LOTS of salad. With avocado. Maybe a small organic beef patty. Small piece of organic, grass fed steak. The other night, my daughter baked plain chicken wings. I had 2. THIS IS HARD! How do anorexics do this? I'm probably gluttonous compared to them. *anorexia=not me*
2 nights ago, I was cleaning the place. Nothing major. No big lifting, just doing things. I fell on my non-lymphedema arm. Hard. WHY? Because, I didn't want to fall on my lymphedema arm and end up in the hospital.
It was painful enough that I worried I had broken a bone. Which, I have never done in my life. I realized I was able to move my arm, though painfully.
After 2 days of home remedies, my cantaloupe sized bruise is still the same size, but has reached light purple today. It still hurts like a mofo. What have I been doing? Glad you asked.
My Weirdo Treatments for Healing a Bruise so that when I'm doing the Pretty Big Deal Thing:
Ice the first night. On for as long as it felt good, then off to throw the broccoli back in the freezer and warm up. Arnica in between icings.
First Technical Day:Arnica fairly obsessively. Read that bromelain is good. Take bromelain supplements and eat half of a pineapple after measly salad.
Second Technical Day: Witch Hazel and arnica alternating in morning. Make a paste of vitamin c powder. Apply to bruise and let dry. Rinse and repeat. The third application, I left it on and put a huge bandaid not quite enough to fit over it, but good enough, and go to gym. Still need to be as waify as possible. Come home. Shower, witch hazel, fancy new bruise cream just purchased, when dry, apply vitamin c paste, repeat ad nauseum. Eat other half of pineapple. Follow by salad and grapes. Wonder if models hate food or themselves. Eh. I guess if I was making mucho bank for being skinny, I'd weigh about 75 lbs.
So, today is that day. Tomorrow is the Pretty Big Deal Thing.
I have crazy strong makeup that, if layered enough times, will cover it pretty much.
So, what are my plans for tonight, besides worry? Seems like enough activity to me! Especially since I just did my nails.
But on my nightstand, like last night, will be witch hazel, cotton, arnica, new fancy bruise stuff... yup. A racy Saturday night.
So, there you have it. Hopefully it'll be a lot better soon. Or, I'll need to find a good bulk pineapple dealer.
Tuesday, December 13, 2016
Bahhhhh Humbug.
I suck. I haven't posted since August. Not that I haven't wanted to. I have had fantasies of writing eloquent, elaborate posts about my goings-on in my life with cancer.
But, it makes me tired and cranky.
So, there's that!
Anyway, I'm officially diagnosed as being in menopause. AGAIN.
First time was on the tamoxifen. Let's give Tamoxifen a big middle finger!
Now, Mama Nature has taken over, has checked out my cavity of warfare and destruction via Western Medicine, and has decided it's time to shut down some operations. Like, ability to make another kiddo. Because, quite frankly, who wants to get pregnant when they're condemned to a lifetime of cancer and lymphedema? I babysat an infant with hubs a while back, and I had to put him down quite often because of my arm. Not because of him - he is a soft, sweet smelling cuddle bug. How would I cope with pregnancy? Sleeping less than usual? Changing poopie things, etc? Yeah... no. Even if I were wealthy and could hire a full time nanny? No. It's unfair. Not only because I can't really keep up with a baby and life, but because I could drop dead during their Kindergarten Graduation. Seems selfish, no? Also, I'm done having kids, and have known that since she was 3. She's in high school. Yeah. Done.
Don't get me wrong, I love my kid. Like crazy. Also, she makes me crazy sometimes. That never overshadows my undying love and unconditional cravings to just smoosh her beautiful face up and tell her that she can drop her anxiety, her insecurity, her fears. The world is a crazy place, and she's brilliant and shall overcome the BS of society. I hope.
Anyway, it's been very busy. My body has been rebelling in a million ways. Between the hot flashes, the weird dryness (my skin etc. are just dust right now, and I'm assuming my bones are packing their bags to join it, as well - remember when I had osteoporosis? Dear Jebus, I can't handle that kind of excruciating pain again, but I hope it will be more gradual this time) Actually, this has been a little more tolerable - I guess because I didn't pop a pill every day that basically turned off my woman switch. But still - I'm too young for this crap. My white hairs are having babies. My skin is changing. People still say I look 15 years younger than I am, but dang. I do have days where I think I look exactly my age. Maybe, if I make it to 50 (my short term goal - yippee!) I'll treat myself to a facelift. Except I don't want elective surgery. After all of this? Zoinks.
I googled "plastic surgery gone wrong" and decided to not post a photo. Why? I'm not in the biz of making fun of people. But, I would most likely end up looking like a stretched out piece of cold cut. Eh.
As I think more, I think it might be nice to make it to the age of crows feet. No, I don't want them, but it's still a goal to reach! Let's hope the coconut oil I use on my skin keeps them waiting in the wings a bit longer - which will give me more time (in my fantasy world clock) to get there! When do folks get those things, typically? I'm addicted to sunglasses, so that's on my side. But, I like laughing. Which keeps me feeling young, but, the wrinkles... ugh. *note to self - try laughing without your eyes*
Smiling, sans eyes.
Dagnabbit. Foiled again.
Well, despite my menopause, hot flashes and all - I'm still here. I may not be a crotchety old lady, but you kids still need to get off my damned lawn!
But, it makes me tired and cranky.
So, there's that!
Anyway, I'm officially diagnosed as being in menopause. AGAIN.
First time was on the tamoxifen. Let's give Tamoxifen a big middle finger!
Now, Mama Nature has taken over, has checked out my cavity of warfare and destruction via Western Medicine, and has decided it's time to shut down some operations. Like, ability to make another kiddo. Because, quite frankly, who wants to get pregnant when they're condemned to a lifetime of cancer and lymphedema? I babysat an infant with hubs a while back, and I had to put him down quite often because of my arm. Not because of him - he is a soft, sweet smelling cuddle bug. How would I cope with pregnancy? Sleeping less than usual? Changing poopie things, etc? Yeah... no. Even if I were wealthy and could hire a full time nanny? No. It's unfair. Not only because I can't really keep up with a baby and life, but because I could drop dead during their Kindergarten Graduation. Seems selfish, no? Also, I'm done having kids, and have known that since she was 3. She's in high school. Yeah. Done.
Don't get me wrong, I love my kid. Like crazy. Also, she makes me crazy sometimes. That never overshadows my undying love and unconditional cravings to just smoosh her beautiful face up and tell her that she can drop her anxiety, her insecurity, her fears. The world is a crazy place, and she's brilliant and shall overcome the BS of society. I hope.
Anyway, it's been very busy. My body has been rebelling in a million ways. Between the hot flashes, the weird dryness (my skin etc. are just dust right now, and I'm assuming my bones are packing their bags to join it, as well - remember when I had osteoporosis? Dear Jebus, I can't handle that kind of excruciating pain again, but I hope it will be more gradual this time) Actually, this has been a little more tolerable - I guess because I didn't pop a pill every day that basically turned off my woman switch. But still - I'm too young for this crap. My white hairs are having babies. My skin is changing. People still say I look 15 years younger than I am, but dang. I do have days where I think I look exactly my age. Maybe, if I make it to 50 (my short term goal - yippee!) I'll treat myself to a facelift. Except I don't want elective surgery. After all of this? Zoinks.
I googled "plastic surgery gone wrong" and decided to not post a photo. Why? I'm not in the biz of making fun of people. But, I would most likely end up looking like a stretched out piece of cold cut. Eh.
As I think more, I think it might be nice to make it to the age of crows feet. No, I don't want them, but it's still a goal to reach! Let's hope the coconut oil I use on my skin keeps them waiting in the wings a bit longer - which will give me more time (in my fantasy world clock) to get there! When do folks get those things, typically? I'm addicted to sunglasses, so that's on my side. But, I like laughing. Which keeps me feeling young, but, the wrinkles... ugh. *note to self - try laughing without your eyes*
Smiling, sans eyes.
Dagnabbit. Foiled again.
Saturday, August 27, 2016
Whoa... 3 months? I think I've only had one cycle since my last post!
Yeah. Life has been super busy - as always - but I just can't, or won't, keep up with everything. My brain races, by nature. I used to always follow it, in 47 different directions. Now, I tell it to shut up. A lot. It's not easy, but I need some sort of breathing space. I'll let you know when/if I find some!
Life has been nuts. My neuropathy is still tingling. Some days, really bad. I don't care how foolish I look in public - some things never change! I shake it around like a rag doll. I work the lymph spots that are not thought provoking in public (I won't go as far as the groin clusters, but will do the neck and underarm and inner elbow spots as well as the whole arm/hand). I'm not embarrassed to do the groin, but in public - I certainly don't want attention from folks who might find that "interesting".
My weight has been frustratingly stagnant. I was actually on my way to the gym when I remembered I haven't sent an update out, via blogger. Even though this is sort of anonymous, I do have actual friends who know who I am. They see me on social media, but I don't post all, health wise.
I'm not sure about the weight, except my freaking hormones. My cycle used to be clockwork. Then, tamoxifen. It turned to painful chaos. It did come back, but my cycle goes from 2 weeks to (so far) 9. It's been over 5 since my last hit from the uterus. About 2 weeks ago, and again 1, I felt PMS cramps etc. Nothing. Tumbleweeds. Not really - that would likely hurt. But, nothing.
So I have been working out more than ever, and my weight, which would normally respond, hasn't. But, I guess being active is better than not, and I'm not in a horrible place, just a few up from my happy zone. I guess I can't have a 20-something's body forever. There, I said it. I've been working so hard on my health and body, and yes - vanity does fuel part of my drive. But, I have a birthday coming up in a week and, as much as I hate it when I hear it, I do look pretty ok "for my age". Of course, I need to cover those pesky greys and we just had our bathroom remodeled. Why, when we're broke?
Flashback to "death kitchen". I had our kitchen totally demolished and rebuilt, custom cabinets, ridiculous gorgeous tiles, the works. Even a wall knocked down and a half wall built as a breakfast type bar. Or, a bar type bar. It handles both positions equally well. Actually, we don't eat breakfast, so bar bar wins. Cheers!
This is "death bathroom". Our place is nice, but they sure didn't think about style or function with these essential rooms. If you recall, if I posted, I had always wanted a dishwasher. Got it. I also have always wanted frosted glass shower doors. I hate the curtain thing. Hate it. Hate. It. Got it. Again custom cabinets (matches the kitchen!), gorgeous marble counter, fancy dual-flush toilet, slightly deeper tub (had to do a dance to approve via co-op, apparently), big tiles up to the ceiling, a splash wall of yellow tiles, and voila. Death Bathroom. Honestly? We can't afford it. Another moment of honesty - I don't give a crap. Well, actually I do, since that's one function of said room.
Ok, off to the gym now. I'm not sure how much I can accomplish, but I'm bringing a book so that I can park my butt on a bike at the end of my rope (physical or mental pooping out) and burn a few more. I do enjoy the sweat now - started getting workout clothes that encourage sweat. They work! I used to never really sweat much in the gym, but this is really good for my lymph and circulation in general. Ironically, they're slightly thick, so I look bigger than I am, but I'm not out to impress anyone at the gym. I'm out to make my life as good as I can. Who knew that sweat would help? (and yes, I do sweat in real life, but the gym? They're too cold, in general! Hubs always sweats, but that could be a boy thing). Until next time... hopefully sooner than December! ;)
Life has been nuts. My neuropathy is still tingling. Some days, really bad. I don't care how foolish I look in public - some things never change! I shake it around like a rag doll. I work the lymph spots that are not thought provoking in public (I won't go as far as the groin clusters, but will do the neck and underarm and inner elbow spots as well as the whole arm/hand). I'm not embarrassed to do the groin, but in public - I certainly don't want attention from folks who might find that "interesting".
My weight has been frustratingly stagnant. I was actually on my way to the gym when I remembered I haven't sent an update out, via blogger. Even though this is sort of anonymous, I do have actual friends who know who I am. They see me on social media, but I don't post all, health wise.
I'm not sure about the weight, except my freaking hormones. My cycle used to be clockwork. Then, tamoxifen. It turned to painful chaos. It did come back, but my cycle goes from 2 weeks to (so far) 9. It's been over 5 since my last hit from the uterus. About 2 weeks ago, and again 1, I felt PMS cramps etc. Nothing. Tumbleweeds. Not really - that would likely hurt. But, nothing.
So I have been working out more than ever, and my weight, which would normally respond, hasn't. But, I guess being active is better than not, and I'm not in a horrible place, just a few up from my happy zone. I guess I can't have a 20-something's body forever. There, I said it. I've been working so hard on my health and body, and yes - vanity does fuel part of my drive. But, I have a birthday coming up in a week and, as much as I hate it when I hear it, I do look pretty ok "for my age". Of course, I need to cover those pesky greys and we just had our bathroom remodeled. Why, when we're broke?
Flashback to "death kitchen". I had our kitchen totally demolished and rebuilt, custom cabinets, ridiculous gorgeous tiles, the works. Even a wall knocked down and a half wall built as a breakfast type bar. Or, a bar type bar. It handles both positions equally well. Actually, we don't eat breakfast, so bar bar wins. Cheers!
This is "death bathroom". Our place is nice, but they sure didn't think about style or function with these essential rooms. If you recall, if I posted, I had always wanted a dishwasher. Got it. I also have always wanted frosted glass shower doors. I hate the curtain thing. Hate it. Hate. It. Got it. Again custom cabinets (matches the kitchen!), gorgeous marble counter, fancy dual-flush toilet, slightly deeper tub (had to do a dance to approve via co-op, apparently), big tiles up to the ceiling, a splash wall of yellow tiles, and voila. Death Bathroom. Honestly? We can't afford it. Another moment of honesty - I don't give a crap. Well, actually I do, since that's one function of said room.
Ok, off to the gym now. I'm not sure how much I can accomplish, but I'm bringing a book so that I can park my butt on a bike at the end of my rope (physical or mental pooping out) and burn a few more. I do enjoy the sweat now - started getting workout clothes that encourage sweat. They work! I used to never really sweat much in the gym, but this is really good for my lymph and circulation in general. Ironically, they're slightly thick, so I look bigger than I am, but I'm not out to impress anyone at the gym. I'm out to make my life as good as I can. Who knew that sweat would help? (and yes, I do sweat in real life, but the gym? They're too cold, in general! Hubs always sweats, but that could be a boy thing). Until next time... hopefully sooner than December! ;)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)