I continue to have nothing to offer here. I'll get back to it, I'm sure, but for now, nothing really matters. I hope you'll cut me a break for a while.
Anything I have to say goes here.
I'll be back here when I can.
Thursday, November 26, 2009
Nothing to say
Sunday, November 22, 2009
Just keep going here
It's almost more than I can manage to write on one blog.
{end of post}
Friday, November 20, 2009
Thursday, November 19, 2009
My inspiration, my beautiful girl
My daughter died today. She was 25.
She was my inspiration to fight my breast cancer. I did it so she'd have me around for a long time. And now she is gone.
She will continue to inspire me to every greatness I might achieve.
But not today. Not right now.
{end of post}
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
We're making money for the cause!
I got my first royalty check in the mail today, and am I every excited. It’s for $32.37… granted that’s not a lot of money but it’s a great beginning.
Proceeds of all my online sales go as a donation to a local pharmacy that provides wigs and prosthetic devises to women, and my donation will help those who have little or no insurance to buy the personal care items they need.
Proceeds for the sales I’m making on my own are being put into additional book inventory, so I can keep a supply on hand and take care of local interest.
I expect that to pick up in the near future, as I’ve started marketing efforts. I have press releases out to local media with promises of interviews and well-placed stories. I’ve got a connection at a radio station in Lawrence and hope to go on-the-air for a live interview. And I’m sending a book to Oprah. Can’t hurt!
So, buy-buy-buy! Help me make a BIG donation to the cause.
{end of post}
Sunday, November 8, 2009
On being thoughtless
One of the good things about the passing of time is that it puts another day between me and my breast cancer. It feels and sounds terrible selfish to say that but it's an honest statement about how I feel.
Dave and I went to a find raiser last night for our new friend Laurie, who is battling a brain tumor. She had an MRI recently that shows no evidence of her tumor, and that's wonderful news. She's filled with optimism and hope, and has a strong network of family and friends helping her along her sally. I'm convinced that that kind of support is key to recovery.
Laurie made a note on her Facebook page yesterday that she hates having "chemo brain." It's hard to explain what that is... you're disconnected and out-of-sync. Forgetful and slow. That's what I remember about it; it may affect people differently. Sounds simple and perhaps even routine, like an ordinary bad day.
But chemo brain is different because it becomes the new normal. It's not like the morning you drank the night away. It doesn't go away with a couple of Tylenol and nap. Chemo Brain makes it hard to get into a rhythm and to keep that rhythm going. Because it hangs on, you get used to it in an uncomfortable way. You start to grow concerned that this is the way you will always be. Your new normal is something that isn't what you used to be at all, nothing you'd choose. The harder you to try to fight to get back to being yourself, the more comfortable chemo brain gets to living in your world.
I used to worry that I'd never be "Me" again and that frightened the hell out of me. I couldn't imagine how my family could love me, my friends like me, my colleagues respect me if I changed into someone I didn't want to be because of the poison that was running through my blood stream. I was turning into someone I didn't know and didn't want to know. I wanted to badly to be "Normal Me" again that I'd have given up almost anything God might have asked.
I mention all of this because someone posted back to Laurie's lament, "But it's funny to the rest of us."
Funny? That remark bothered the complete hell out of me. I wouldn't say it on Laurie's Facebook page, but that shows such a lack of respect. That someone would find amusement in her cancer is a reaction I can't get my mind around. And apparently it wasn't just the writer finding humor... who are "the rest of us?"
I joke about my cancer, but it's OK for me to do it because it's mine. I earned the right to joke about it because I'm a proud, card-carrying member of The Chemo Brain Club. I sometimes voice an affirmative about something and give the reason as "Why not, it won't make my hair fall out!" I've even blamed something silly I did on the lingering influence of chemo brain.
It's OK for me to do these things because I've been there. If you haven't then you can't. My blog, my rules, but come on, think about it... it's decent and courteous NOT to make fun of people who have cancer.
Maybe the person who made the remark earned the right to make jokes about chemo brain the way I did, and the way Laurie is earning her membership card right now. But I rather doubt it. I think instead the writer is one of those there-in-the-moment kinds of people who makes time to think about Laurie when it's convenient to do so.
It's these thoughtless moments that make it OK for other people to continue the thoughtlessness and foster insensitivity. I'm not asking you to embrace it the way I do, I'm just asking you to do what your mother (should have) taught you to do... if you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all.
Put another way, if you can't show a little support, shut the hell up and get out of the way. We're fighting cancer and you're name isn't on the invitation list. We'll talk to you later. Maybe.
I don't want to rant on this any more. I want to forget one person's classless unkindness and move on.
On another cancer note, I'm going to Maine on Wednesday to spend the day with another friend who is in treatment with a brain tumor. She is having a very difficult time. She's been robbed of the lost the sight in one eye and is hopeful that her treatment will stop the tumor from stealing the sight in the other. When I spoke to her last week she sounded so tired... not just physically, but mentally--as if just talking and focusing on out conversation was a supreme effort. Talk about chemo brain.
She and her husband were given a week in Key West as a get-away, and they are there now. I'll call them tomorrow and confirm their return plans and get the time and location for her Wednesday treatment. It's going to be a difficult day and I'll be honest and tell you that my head isn't looking forward to it. But I also know that my heart knows it's the right thing to do and that my hart wouldn't have it any other way.
It's the little things that people did for me that helped my head find its way back from my cancer experience. It was the small gestures and the kind words that I placed on top of the foundation of love and support that my family worked so hard to build. It takes something as simple as a smile and a gentle touch of a hand. It takes listening. That doesn't mean agreeing, just listening--that is so important. And sometimes in just takes being there, in the same room or the same space. Just being there and letting the togetherness fill the space in place of talk and voices.
No one earning a membership card to the Chemo Brain Club needs ridicule disguised as friendship.
Saturday, October 31, 2009
A new me!
I'm looking and feeling different today. I have a breast form for my bra. It fills me up enough that I don't look lopsided any more.
Funny thing is, I didn't think I needed the help. Like so many other aspects of my disease, treatment, and recovery, getting a little help in the image department didn't seem important. This is what it is and I am what I've become. So what if the right side lags behind the left in size? I'm still me, right?
I thought so, and I thought everything was good the way it was.
At my last visit with my surgeon, I joked with him that he ruined me for bra shopping. "Do you have any idea how hard it is to buy a bra that fits?" I asked in a mock accusing tone. He pulled out his prescription pad and wrote me a script for 5 mastectomy bras, all the while apologizing for not having done so sooner.
"You're entitled to one of these every year," he said.
Earlier this week, the Pretty Girl and I went to Lady Grace in Danvers and spent an hour with a wonderful woman named Suzanne. She measured me for a bra to fit my left (full) breast, disappeared, and came back with a form to fill the gap on the right.
It's pure magic. Fits perfectly. Makes me even. Makes me very happy! The form is made of silicone, feels like real skin, and has a built in nipple. It comes with a two-year warranty. Pretty damn cool.
Turns out that everything wasn't fine. I wasn't fine with my appearance, and in a way that bothers the hell out of me. There's this sense that--to hell with you and yours if I'm not good enough the way I am.
But I'm also growing wiser as I age and live with breast cancer as a part of my life (granted now it is in the past, but it's still part of what I've become). The wise side of me is trying to understand and accept that it's OK to be humbled by all of this, and it's OK not to be a rock all the time. Not that I'm weak, far from that, but it's OK to let it overwhelm me now and again.
That's what happened this week. Once again the breast cancer became something to deal with, not hide from. I let it take front stage and be the point of discussion. And this time I got to walk away from it feeling better about myself and the way I look.
A win-win.
Saturday, October 17, 2009
The book is a hit!
I've had amazing feedback on the book. The comments that mean the most to me came from my mother, who never read my blog. She just couldn't bring herself to face it and I never pushed or asked her why. I figured she'd get into it when the moment was right. I guess being healthy and publishing the story brought her to that moment.
She said she particularly liked my use of humor. I know I laughed out loud a couple of times when I read it. I've always hid behind humor and used it to defuse tension. Perhaps it wasn't always appropriate, but I am what I am.
My cousin Melissa is taking part in a breast cancer walk tomorrow (Sunday, Oct 18) in Manchester NH. She's been participating in this event for 25 years and in honor of her mother, Natalie, who died in 1985. That's the aunt I refer to along the way when I talk about my family history (my aunt Nat and her mother, my grandmother, Ruth).
Melissa called the other day and asked for as many copies of the book as I had to give her. She's taking them to the walk tomorrow. We'll see whether it sparks any more sales.
It fills my heart to know that the book is touching people, whether they've faced this themselves or love someone else who has gone through it. Every story reminds me of my good fortune to have gone through it and come to the other side in good health.
(On a side note, I heard a radiation therapy professional refer to patients "cured" through therapy. I'm not sure I'll ever believe that the words "cancer" and "cure" can fit it the same sentence. I'll hope, however, that it really happens--and happens soon.)
I'm having breakfast tomorrow with Tanya and Debbie, my Sistas. We're overdue to be together. I'll post a photo.
Thursday, October 1, 2009
Good news on the BC front
Found this in the newspaper this morning:
LOS ANGELES - US breast cancer deaths have declined about 2 percent a year since 1990, according to the American Cancer Society.
Its report estimates 192,370 women will be diagnosed with the disease in 2009 and 40,170 will die from it. Only lung cancer accounts for more cancer deaths in women.
Death rates in black women have started to fall at the same rate as those for Caucasians, but remain 40 percent higher.
Based on the latest data, survival rates for women with breast cancer are:
■ 89 percent at five years after diagnosis
■ 82 percent after 10 years
■ 75 percent after 15 years
I like what I read. Anything that's positive is a good thing. Among the positive lately is good news for my friend Elaine.
I'm getting nice feedback on the book. It's exciting and its humbling.
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
THE BOOK IS HERE!
My book is officially available at www.lulu.com (click for a direct link to the page) and will soon be on Amazon.com.
I'd love to come an do a reading for your group! Drop me a comment and let's talk!
{end of post}
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