Today I woke up and thought it was Saturday.
I didn’t want to get up, and realized that it is actually Friday.
I got up and showered, started yummy coffee, and started packing little girl’s lunch.
Then little girl woke up sick with a tummy bug.
She misses school today, therefore it kind of feels like Saturday after all!
That is just weird.
I was having a dream … that I am sure doesn’t make any sense at all … about going to a concert with Ani and Foo. I was trying to parallel park my car between to giant brick posts, and realized that I was the first to arrive at the venue at 5 pm.
Then I heard “Mommmmmyy”, which was actually little boy waking me up.
And then there it was. Ani. And Foo.
And now that I am here to tell you all about it, I had to google both of them to try to make sense of it.
And, I don’t know anything about either of them, and I don’t know any of their music.
Which leads me to wonder why I would even dream about a concert with both of them, when I clearly wouldn’t arrive early to check it out.
Especially with the brick pillar situation.
Ironic that the first thing I thought about this morning was alarm, right?? Not really. Here’s why.
The alarm didn’t go off this morning, BUT I woke up before it normally would. Good thing, except E hopped in the shower just before I was going to, which made my morning not ahead of schedule, but messy. I thought I would be gaining a few extra minutes, instead I found myself doing normal things early, and usual things later, and out of the ordinary things at the end.
It turned out to be messy.
How ya doin?
I know I’ve been gone for a long time.
I’ve been living.
Are you proud?
It is not all over, though.
I am still working it out.
And here is where it begins.
For the next 30 days, starting tomorrow, March 3, I will blog about the FIRST thing that I think about in the morning. It might be about a dream, or my kids, or my hot flashes, or torn bath towel. Whatever it is, I will share. Because that’s what I do. Occasionally.
And thank you to some special folks who have told me that they miss the randomness that I write:
Meg, over at I Buy Cheap Toilet Paper. She is awesome, and you should go read her.
Serena at tea.afghans.&photographs. She’s my cousin and an extremely talented photographer, you will enjoy swinging by.
Christie, who is just beginning a blog, and I am hoping will let me link to her (hint, hint…I need to know where you are🙂
And my Mommy, who always tells me that I should write. Maybe that is so that I will stop talking??
Okay, check back tomorrow. I am off on this 30 day experiment, and I want you to pack your bags and join me!
This is what little boy has said 1000 times today. The good news is he is eating. The bad news is, we have to pretend each time that I am “the worker MAN”, and he is the customer.
I don’t enjoy this charade very much. I was, for a quite a long time, “the worker MAN”, as a server/bartender. I don’t want to revisit it, even in my own kitchen. Not to mention he doesn’t tip very well for his $47.00 Cheezits. Stinker.
What is that you ask? That is my break from blogging, and let me tell you why:
“Worker man!” little boy exclaimed.
“Yes sir, what can I do for you?” I replied.
“I spilled-ed all this orange stuff on your carpet” little boy informed.
“Really?” I hesitated as I set the laptop down, and began to stand up.
And then I saw the RED popsicle juice on the light biege carpet (that we just had steam cleaned).
So very quickly I grabbed a baby wipe to start getting it up. Much to my dismay, we have Pampers wipes right now, not Huggies. Did you know Huggies diaper wipes will get almost anything out? I’m serious. But Pampers Baby Fresh seems to just smear it.
I ran to grab my other go-to stain remover, Oxyclean. I sprayed it rapidly and smooshed it up with a … sock. I couldn’t find a cloth fast enough. And there was a white sock on the dryer, waiting for its match to reappear.
Oh, man. I am done being “worker man”.
The details of this blog post were in no way altered. This actually happened in the last 20 minutes, in this order. And you wonder why it takes me so long to post.
Not to mention while I was typing this, little boy ate my pretzel Goldfish. No respect, I tell ya. No respect.
On a secret mission, I have a beef with someone.
Here it goes.
Bilateral Mastectomy is not cosmetic. It is not fun. It hurts a whole lot, until you heal that is, and then it is just numb. I mean physically numb. You have no feeling where your breasts once were. Sure, you can have reconstruction. But the last time I checked, you can’t FEEL silicone or saline, or whatever you choose. Having a bilateral mastectomy means that they REMOVE your breasts and nipples, not enhance your breasts. They cut them off and leave you with scars that mean more than your breasts ever did.
Being a Previvor, means that you are trying to avoid the cancer that has plagued the generations before you. It means that you will willingly accept help with your children, life, and self for a SHORT period, in order to heal. It means that you don’t want to get cancer that is so savage, that you are willing to butcher your body in order to defeat it, head on.
It means that you are strong, though terrified. It means that you are brave, despite pain. It means that you can overcome an 87% chance of cancer. It means that you are more in touch with who you are as a person, than who you are as a body. It means that you may not like the result aesthetically, but you like to know that you did everything within your power to live a long life and not orphan your children.
Facing a salpingo-oophorectomy is not exactly a walk in the park either. It is difficult to be young and vibrant, while at the same time dealing with menopause, and small children. But you know what the trade off is? The feeling that you did all you could to rip out the organs that develop cancer so aggressive, that it is not usually detected until it has spread to your other organs.
Being BRCA positive is a blessing and a curse. You have to live with the knowledge that you might go down the same path your aunts, mom and cousins did. It is also the blessing of knowledge! You can do everything medically proven to better your odds! Not CHOOSE to have a “cosmetic procedure”. The plastic surgeon, that tries to give you back resemblance of breasts, is called a PLASTIC and RECONSTRUCTIVE surgeon. Not a cosmetic surgeon.
The saddest part about this. The *person* who this is intended for, will never understand. Because you have to have a heart and soul to feel someone else’s torment and pain. When you are too diluted to see beyond your own web of lies, you will never understand that one day, your children might have to face these decisions, too.
Then will it be “Well, you still have a 13% chance of not getting cancer?” OR “This is a cosmetic procedure?” OR “How will surgery even benefit me?”.
I didn’t think so.
I took a hiatus. I do that from time to time. You should too. From whatever it is that needs some readjusting.
In my “time off” I have been a busy bee, I tell ya! Little girl is almost ready for back to school. We still need to find some shoes, but I think that we are going to have to order them online, TODAY, because there doesn’t seem to be a store around here that carries her half-size. I think that is strange, but whatever.
I got my birthday present 2 months early. I hate that, but I love it all the same! E got me the Nikon D60 that I have been lusting over. Seriously, he is awesome. So thank you, E, for the camera. I really need to figure out how to use it though. Don’t judge, I’ve been busy. I mean really busy!
Format my SD disk, that is all I know so far.
Our dishwasher sprung a leak about 6 weeks ago and I have been washing dishes since, but as we speak, I am running a test on it. That means that E looked at it about 2 weeks ago, and said he doesn’t see any problems with it. I felt a little unsure, but I am so tired of doing the dishes, I couldn’t wait any longer. It is running empty, and hopefully NOT leaking. I will have to go check on it to make sure the kitchen isn’t flooded again, and that means that I will have to go soon. I just heard it make a weird squeek. I don’t think that is so good.
Okay, on to the serious stuff.
My mom’s CA-125 went up, and she has been on chemo since last December. That is not such a good thing. There are “some spots” on her lungs. She will start a new drug in about 2 weeks. She, I imagine, will get pretty sick again. As long as the tumors get sick too, we are okay with that. I say it like I know. I really don’t. I am a Previvor. She is a fighter and a Survivor. She needs ALL of your prayers right now. I mean all of them. Stop reading. Say a prayer.
I told you to stop reading and say a prayer. Oh, you did? Well, say another one really quick. More is more in this case. We will take all we can get. And link to this post too. Then those people will pray and so on.