Roid Rage vs. Tamoxi Rage

I wonder, are steroids worse than tamoxifen?

I guess there's the battle of pimples. But, if you work out? Awesome.

The tamoxirage is annoying me. Like crazy. It comes and goes, and I'm grateful that it's hopefully stopping my rogue cancer cells from traveling to incurable sections of my body.

But, seriously, wouldn't steroids also suppress my chick hormones? I mean, let's get real. Female bodybuilders on the juice probably never drop an egg a month, and the ones with boobs are implanted. I wonder what the rate of breast cancer is in female bodybuilders???

I wonder if my oncologist would get on board with me on this idea. Um, I know the answer. But it's still way tempting to ask her. Because, she's a straight shooter and most likely I'd hear "I really don't know much about that". Instead of, "that's a terrible idea and you are going to burn in Hell for entertaining that thought".

Yeah, yeah, yeah. Whatever. I think Cancer is Hell. So I'm already here! Bring on the juice and let's get ripped!!!

*in my dreams*

Meanwhile, in weight control land, I have been bad for a few weeks and had put on about 3-4 lbs. Not much, you say? Well, to me it is. So, I've been ridiculously disciplined the past few days, to the point of wondering if it was all worth it. But, it was. I'm back to a reasonable size, 3 lbs. less. Now, to hang onto it.

Because... a photo session is being planned for Sunday.

I'm getting a fucking areola tattoo in 3 weeks, I need proper documentation that I was areola-less! We'll do promo shots too, hopefully. But meanwhile, I didn't want to feel like a fatty for this event. Even though I have no plans to release said areola photos. Though, the other night, I did talk to hubs about releasing them when I'm too old to care. But of course, I'll probably consider my daughter.

We have photos from the beginning - from before surgery, to at the hospital getting a Huge Ass Needle right through my nipple (curse you, Cancer! That shit hurt like a muthafucka!!!)  Great. The last sensation I had on my nipple before it was plopped into a tupperware container was that? Ugh. We have photos from when I woke up, nauseous like crazy. My drains hanging from the mystery hole in between my ribs somehow. The deflated (defeated) expander as it grew. The radiation burns at the end, when I looked like a slab of jerkey. But no photos since exchange. I look like an alien. A crooked smile across my colorless breast-ish thing. It mocks me. Bitch. Hopefully the tattoo will make me feel less like my body is laughing at me.

To nipple or not? I'm not too concerned right now. We'll see how I feel when the color settles in.

Meanwhile, I have to pack for a gig! Where does the time go???