And, the Worst Mom of the Year goes to...

ME!

I've been so stressed out since everything, since the diagnosis, since the crap that led up to the diagnosis... and I just keep blowing up at my kid with homework when hubby is not around.

She has fallen so far behind in math. She has not handed in 2 weeks worth of homework! What the hell happened??? But she hadn't brought it home to be done, and I had no clue what was what. The school has a website and teachers update when they can, but they're so overworked, so it has been hard. Finally I got through to her teachers and she brought her missing assignments home today.

2 weeks plus a day of math is a lot. Not to mention all of her other classes. But math is one that is particularly hated by her. I get it. I hated it too. Funny, I'm good at it naturally but HATED it in school. I think my high school geometry teacher smacked that final nail in my Math Coffin - but it was a long process of lowering me into the ground on that subject.

She gets frustrated. I get frustrated. She yells. I yell. Several times in the past 3 hours I have told her that I quit. But I can't quit. She needs me to help. I just don't know how, sometimes. My temper gets the better of me, especially these days. Because of this fucking cancer, and the surgery, and the lack of work, and the lack of exercise, and the stupid meds they want me to poison myself with so I can live like a fat, cranky old lady who is two steps away from putting her head in the oven. Yeah, I'm stressed.

A glass of wine while I sent her to take her shower. My heart is palpitating. I can't stop crying.  I hate myself at these times, and am so mad that hubby is out working. Yeah, he needs to. But I need him so badly right now. My daughter deserves more than I can give her.

And he does too. Who the hell gets married thinking that his brand new wife will be diagnosed with cancer a month later? Part of me wants him to leave me, and have a happy life with someone healthy. But I need him so badly. We need him. And I'm useless.

Imagine me on tamoxifen? If I react violently to the most mild birth control pills, how the hell is this not going to kill me in a week?

I had my teeth cleaned today. I had put it off for a year and a half. I know. And I'm neurotic about my teeth. Thank goodness, because they always comment on how great it is that they don't have to scrape the shit out of my teeth. Yeah, I'd rather use a sonic care and floss than go in every six months to hear and feel the awful scraping of metal on my teeth, which always makes me think that my teeth will fly out of my head.  Yuck. I can still hear the minimal scraping in my brain. But, since I'm so type-A about my oral health, they admitted that my teeth were better than a lot of folks after just 6 months. Thank you, and goodnight. Why couldn't I figure out how to scrape the cancer out myself???

Anyway, my dentist actually had liver cancer a few years back. I remember the ordeal. He's cool now, as cool as one can be after having cancer. I can already see from talking to "survivors" that you never really feel safe. Even if you're on some ridiculous preventative medicine, that also prevents you from being happy, or healthy, or mildly interested in your partner. I'm a newlywed, for goodness sake!

Anyway, he went to see a local doc who is the only dude who works with Ozone therapy infusions. I was overwhelmed with info, but his name is Dr. Howard Robins. And apparently he's a genius. And expensive. But I'm going to call him. Because I'd rather spend money and remain myself, perhaps become my OLD self again, not the OLD LADY that the crap that insurance will pay for will turn me into. I want to enjoy my life.

Quality of life. That's why I didn't just let the cancer fester and kill me. I had my breast removed, and a bunch of lymph nodes, too. I'm going through this awful process of rebuilding, so I can at least fool some of the people some of the time. And allow my self esteem to remain intact when getting dressed, or undressed, or being dressed for a show. Yes, I have all of my body parts. Why do you ask? Oh, these scars? Yeah, I had cancer. But I decided to live.

Is Tamoxifen a decision to live? I am not convinced. It is a decision to prolong life, maybe. Not guaranteed. It's a decision to give in to Western Medicine. It's a decision to sustain a lifestyle that might not be conducive to being cancer-free. I mean, if you have smoking induced lung cancer, do you continue to smoke and take meds? Some do. That's their decision. Me? I need to look at my life honestly and figure out what is wrong. Major amounts of stress. Some dietary issues. Personal products for the body and home. We have made SO many changes over the years, and went into high gear upon diagnosis. By then, I had the tumors. But if I continue to look honestly and change my life honestly, aren't my chances better in having a beautiful life? Can't  I be in control of my health? Of course. Our docs over here don't totally get that. That's fine. Their job is to bring in cash. And yes, they do care, but their values are different than mine, and others. If your house is messy, do you sweep the dirt under the rug your whole life? I hope not. But some do.

So I stare into my salt lamp, breathe deeply as my daughter continues on her math homework quest, and realize that THIS is a good life. The one where I decide to breathe, the one where I enjoyed my thimble full of wine to allow me to wind down where I had no opportunity to meditate or find relief from my parenting duties. And maybe in the future, I will be able to tap into my calm space without blinking an eye.

She wants a clementine. I know. She needs a break and asking for a piece of fruit seems like the safest route. Her bedtime has passed but she has a ton of work left. I can't let her fail. Math or herself. She's a smart kid - and stubborn. Wonder where she gets it from?

I want her to have balance, too. I want her to find her inner Om. And I want her to find success in school, make sense of her brain, find a way to control and nurture it.

Finally in bed. She finished much of the overdue homework, and I hope, her current homework. I'm so frustrated with myself as a parent, but I know we all go through this. I made sure to tell her how much I love her, as I always do. I just feel inadequate sometimes. Like I can't handle this huge boatload of responsibility that has landed at my dock. I'd been a single mom for years, and did everything (see: any previous post about my ex). Now, I have help. Which is amazing. But with the stupid cancer? I feel so fragile, like I could crumble at any second. I could blow away in a strong gust of wind, being mixed in with sand, or dirt, or trash. Just blown away into a million little bits. Because I'm not strong enough to keep myself together.