This time Last Year...
It has been one year and one day since I saw Dr. T about my bronchitis, (and was subsequently diagnosed with breast cancer.) I am officially, thankfully, and reasonably back to where I was before my diagnosis. I've lost all the weight I gained and my cardio fitness is comparable. I look healthy, my hair has grown back, and if you didn't know I had cancer last year, you'd be hard pressed to guess it.
I am undoubtably mentally stronger. Even as I struggle with acceptance of my permanent disfigurement, I know that eventually it will become my new normal. I can handle it.
Lots of people have commented on my great attitude and my ability to bounce back, my way of handling this challenge and how I worked through the tough spots. I don't feel as though it was very difficult. I had a lot of support and help from others. Yes, chemo sucked, but I was lucky to have an extremely short course - 12 weeks. And when I know there is a limit, a time-frame, an ending, I can move through most challenges.
Everyone has heard the adage that God doesn't give you anything you can't handle. I don't necessarily believe that. Rather, I feel most people can meet their challenges simply because they have to. I just did what I needed to do. Much like others who have situations that call for extra effort. Everybody has to deal with stuff that sucks. Society has decided that cancer is at the top of the suck-heap. I agree it sucks, but I can think of worse things.
16 July 2012
Glaring Reminders
Caution: This post is pretty raw.
Something bothers me. A lot. Everyday. It bothers me so much that I expend a ton of energy ignoring it. I don't like to see it, feel it or think about it, and yet everyday I do. Impossible to escape, it hits me in the face time and time again. I'm just doing what I do, getting dressed, getting in the shower, changing into a bathing suit and there they are, I see them in the mirror - my hideous fake boobs.
I often wonder if I did the right thing by having my reconstruction. On the one hand, I look normal with clothes on. My rationale was that with foobs, I wouldn't have "I HAD CANCER" tattooed across my chest. Boob-less women are not normal, they are freakish curiosities. They exude asexuality and garner pity and I certainly didn't want that, for me or for my kids to witness. A significant part of my reason to have the reconstruction was to shelter my kids from having a 'weird' mom. One that would be the brunt of their peers' taunts - "Oh Yah? Well your mom is a titless wonder!!!"
On the other hand, they are hideous. They revoltingly contort when my pec muscles are engaged. Gashes of red scars stretch from one side to the other, from my left, numb armpit, past the misshapen 'corners' in the middle to the other semi-numb armpit. These scars feel bad. I'm supposed to be rubbing scar cream into them but touching them gives me the heebie-jeebies. It creeps me out. The foobs are lopsided, two different shapes. There are flaps of tissue under my arms by my ribcage that bulge out. These were previously pulled forward when they were attached to my original boobs. Not any more. Why wouldn't the surgeon have removed them? They actually hang under my arms.
So I play the game of trying to imagine how it would be better if I hadn't had the reconstruction. I certainly would have had an easier convalescence after the first surgery. Maybe only four weeks in bed instead of six? I wouldn't have had the second surgery and so I'd be a little further along on my fitness, instead of having had to take a break from my running training program for six weeks in March/April. My pecs wouldn't have been stretched out and compromised. I still can't do a push-up.
Most disturbing to me is the incongruence between clothed and naked. I look totally normal in clothes. I look so un-normal naked. Freakish. Alien. Repulsive. I suspect that if I didn't have the reconstruction, I'd feel more authentic. And my outward persona would better match how I feel inside - ripped apart and scarred.
Caution: This post is pretty raw.
Something bothers me. A lot. Everyday. It bothers me so much that I expend a ton of energy ignoring it. I don't like to see it, feel it or think about it, and yet everyday I do. Impossible to escape, it hits me in the face time and time again. I'm just doing what I do, getting dressed, getting in the shower, changing into a bathing suit and there they are, I see them in the mirror - my hideous fake boobs.
I often wonder if I did the right thing by having my reconstruction. On the one hand, I look normal with clothes on. My rationale was that with foobs, I wouldn't have "I HAD CANCER" tattooed across my chest. Boob-less women are not normal, they are freakish curiosities. They exude asexuality and garner pity and I certainly didn't want that, for me or for my kids to witness. A significant part of my reason to have the reconstruction was to shelter my kids from having a 'weird' mom. One that would be the brunt of their peers' taunts - "Oh Yah? Well your mom is a titless wonder!!!"
On the other hand, they are hideous. They revoltingly contort when my pec muscles are engaged. Gashes of red scars stretch from one side to the other, from my left, numb armpit, past the misshapen 'corners' in the middle to the other semi-numb armpit. These scars feel bad. I'm supposed to be rubbing scar cream into them but touching them gives me the heebie-jeebies. It creeps me out. The foobs are lopsided, two different shapes. There are flaps of tissue under my arms by my ribcage that bulge out. These were previously pulled forward when they were attached to my original boobs. Not any more. Why wouldn't the surgeon have removed them? They actually hang under my arms.
So I play the game of trying to imagine how it would be better if I hadn't had the reconstruction. I certainly would have had an easier convalescence after the first surgery. Maybe only four weeks in bed instead of six? I wouldn't have had the second surgery and so I'd be a little further along on my fitness, instead of having had to take a break from my running training program for six weeks in March/April. My pecs wouldn't have been stretched out and compromised. I still can't do a push-up.
Most disturbing to me is the incongruence between clothed and naked. I look totally normal in clothes. I look so un-normal naked. Freakish. Alien. Repulsive. I suspect that if I didn't have the reconstruction, I'd feel more authentic. And my outward persona would better match how I feel inside - ripped apart and scarred.
14 July 2012
On (the) Track
Cancer walk done. The website is still accepting donations until August 31st, so if you meant to donate and didn't get around to it yet, no worries. There's still time! Click here!
In spite of my expectation of 'emotion', my walk was exceptionally uneventful. I thought I would have some anxiety about having cancer, as though it would be a glaring reminder.* I didn't feel like 'Cancer Girl' (woman, mama, whatever,) instead I felt pretty normal just as my life is starting to feel pretty normal again. I started at 7am and walked about three and a half miles, then Dan and the kids arrived and we all walked for about an hour more. It was very low key this morning, most folks had been walking all night and had retreated once the morning walkers started showing up. I suppose had I shown up last night for the Luminaria ceremony I would have felt something, but as it was, in the cool-ish light of day, it was just another morning walk for me. One of many, just a little more boring since it was around and around the track instead of down to Dorothy Lane and back. And I walked the whole thing instead of doing a walk/run combo and my hamstrings and blisters were grateful. I did 7 miles this morning bringing my total for the week to 30.
My food choices are still good, although I'm finding I'm wanting to eat some junk. I have a visceral response to stress that involves a need for chocolate cake. I haven't given in, but I do get cranky about it.
*glaring reminder: that's another post.
Cancer walk done. The website is still accepting donations until August 31st, so if you meant to donate and didn't get around to it yet, no worries. There's still time! Click here!
In spite of my expectation of 'emotion', my walk was exceptionally uneventful. I thought I would have some anxiety about having cancer, as though it would be a glaring reminder.* I didn't feel like 'Cancer Girl' (woman, mama, whatever,) instead I felt pretty normal just as my life is starting to feel pretty normal again. I started at 7am and walked about three and a half miles, then Dan and the kids arrived and we all walked for about an hour more. It was very low key this morning, most folks had been walking all night and had retreated once the morning walkers started showing up. I suppose had I shown up last night for the Luminaria ceremony I would have felt something, but as it was, in the cool-ish light of day, it was just another morning walk for me. One of many, just a little more boring since it was around and around the track instead of down to Dorothy Lane and back. And I walked the whole thing instead of doing a walk/run combo and my hamstrings and blisters were grateful. I did 7 miles this morning bringing my total for the week to 30.
My food choices are still good, although I'm finding I'm wanting to eat some junk. I have a visceral response to stress that involves a need for chocolate cake. I haven't given in, but I do get cranky about it.
*glaring reminder: that's another post.
13 July 2012
I'm Walking Tomorrow
I'm off to bed so I can get up at 6 and do the 7 - 9am shift at the local Relay For Life
Yes, that is a link there so you can easily sponsor me.
I'm anticipating some 'emotion'. We'll see how I do.
I'm off to bed so I can get up at 6 and do the 7 - 9am shift at the local Relay For Life
Yes, that is a link there so you can easily sponsor me.
I'm anticipating some 'emotion'. We'll see how I do.
5 July 2012
Back on the Right Track
I had a lovely post done this morning but Blogger ate it. I hate it when that happens!
Four or five days without exercise really messes me up. Mentally I feel like a failure. Physically, I'm listless and cranky and I can't sleep. There's really no good reason for me to not exercise, (except maybe a power outage during a heat wave.) Still, I have yet to get in a good groove with an exercise program since I was released after my last surgery. It's just been one thing after another and even with scheduled sitters while the kids are home for the summer, I've had trouble making it to the gym regularly. My favorite thing to do is run/walk, and I have been doing a lot of that, but again, not with any consistency.
Back in February I had a great month of exercise and eating right and I was able to drop ten pounds in five weeks. Then my surgery derailed me and I stalled. Even after I resumed exercising, I was unable to get my food intake under control and the cancer weight just sat there around my waist.
Because I'm such a black/white thinker, when I start something it has to be fairly drastic in order for it to stick with me. The harsher and more draconian, the better. If I have to think about nuances, I'm able to talk myself out of or into anything. After doing a bit of research, I decided to do a paleo-type thing. I'm reading the book, It Starts With Food by Dallas and Melissa Hartwig. I've heard good things from other people and while I remain unconvinced about the toxicity of grains and legumes for people who do not have specific allergies to same, I have noticed that when I cut out the starch, I don't feel bloated.
Thank god for bacon, (from humanely raised, organically fed swine, with no added nitrates or nitrites...) Another current favorite is grilled salmon. Meat, fish, lots of veggies, a little fruit, some eggs and nuts and that's it. No dairy, no starchy veggies, no legumes, no grains, no added sugar of any kind, including molasses, honey, artificial sweeteners etc. This is supposed to get rid of my spare tire by lowering my insulin resistance and helping my body switch to burning fat instead of constantly working off of carbohydrates. The theory is that we were hunter gatherers for millions of years and have been farmers for only ten thousand or so, and that our bodies haven't evolved to handle the amount of carbohydrates the agrarian lifestyle has provided.
I'm pleased to be off of dairy. This builds on the last diet/health thing I read, The China Study. That book linked dairy protein to cancer. Plus it is kind of weird and creepy that we eat something meant to nourish a newborn of another species. But it also eschewed meat, pushing grains and legumes, along with other plant sources for protein. I don't mind eating meat, although I think ideally I'd prefer to be vegetarian, but with the paleo thing it's virtually impossible. One simply cannot get enough protein from green plants and some nuts.
Unfortunately, I have been suffering from the 'carb-flu', which is a plethora of documented symptoms/side effect of cutting carbs out of one's diet. Most notable is the killer headache. The book said nothing about ibuprofen so I'm popping those like tic-tacs. (Although I'm not popping tic-tacs, because they are processed.) Also, I'm a complete bitch. Although that could be the heat, my lack of sleep, or the kids driving me crazy. On the plus side, I lost five pounds of water weight this week, my lymphedema is diminished and I'm not hungry.
My run/walk this morning was fairly long and while I would have liked to have run a little more and walked a little less, I just wasn't up to it. Mind you it was hot, I haven't run in a week, I'd had less than four hours of sleep and I hadn't eaten before I exercised. All good excuses.
I am coming up to my one year diagnosis anniversary. It is a mere six weeks out and I would like to be in better shape when I hit it than I was at this time last year, (cancer notwithstanding...) I am on track to do that. I have almost lost the weight I packed on through chemo and surgery recovery. My upper body strength is no where near where it was, I can't even do a push up. My legs are pretty strong 'though. My flexibility is compromised, but my cardio is better off from the running I've been doing. I wonder if I start working my arms and chest if I'll be able to take it or if I'll be injury prone from the surgery. I wonder if I'll even be able to do push ups again or if that will aggravate my lymphedema.
This week started off crummy. In fact Wednesday to Wednesday kind of sucked. I'm glad I am moving on, and am back on track.
I had a lovely post done this morning but Blogger ate it. I hate it when that happens!
Four or five days without exercise really messes me up. Mentally I feel like a failure. Physically, I'm listless and cranky and I can't sleep. There's really no good reason for me to not exercise, (except maybe a power outage during a heat wave.) Still, I have yet to get in a good groove with an exercise program since I was released after my last surgery. It's just been one thing after another and even with scheduled sitters while the kids are home for the summer, I've had trouble making it to the gym regularly. My favorite thing to do is run/walk, and I have been doing a lot of that, but again, not with any consistency.
Back in February I had a great month of exercise and eating right and I was able to drop ten pounds in five weeks. Then my surgery derailed me and I stalled. Even after I resumed exercising, I was unable to get my food intake under control and the cancer weight just sat there around my waist.
Because I'm such a black/white thinker, when I start something it has to be fairly drastic in order for it to stick with me. The harsher and more draconian, the better. If I have to think about nuances, I'm able to talk myself out of or into anything. After doing a bit of research, I decided to do a paleo-type thing. I'm reading the book, It Starts With Food by Dallas and Melissa Hartwig. I've heard good things from other people and while I remain unconvinced about the toxicity of grains and legumes for people who do not have specific allergies to same, I have noticed that when I cut out the starch, I don't feel bloated.
Thank god for bacon, (from humanely raised, organically fed swine, with no added nitrates or nitrites...) Another current favorite is grilled salmon. Meat, fish, lots of veggies, a little fruit, some eggs and nuts and that's it. No dairy, no starchy veggies, no legumes, no grains, no added sugar of any kind, including molasses, honey, artificial sweeteners etc. This is supposed to get rid of my spare tire by lowering my insulin resistance and helping my body switch to burning fat instead of constantly working off of carbohydrates. The theory is that we were hunter gatherers for millions of years and have been farmers for only ten thousand or so, and that our bodies haven't evolved to handle the amount of carbohydrates the agrarian lifestyle has provided.
I'm pleased to be off of dairy. This builds on the last diet/health thing I read, The China Study. That book linked dairy protein to cancer. Plus it is kind of weird and creepy that we eat something meant to nourish a newborn of another species. But it also eschewed meat, pushing grains and legumes, along with other plant sources for protein. I don't mind eating meat, although I think ideally I'd prefer to be vegetarian, but with the paleo thing it's virtually impossible. One simply cannot get enough protein from green plants and some nuts.
Unfortunately, I have been suffering from the 'carb-flu', which is a plethora of documented symptoms/side effect of cutting carbs out of one's diet. Most notable is the killer headache. The book said nothing about ibuprofen so I'm popping those like tic-tacs. (Although I'm not popping tic-tacs, because they are processed.) Also, I'm a complete bitch. Although that could be the heat, my lack of sleep, or the kids driving me crazy. On the plus side, I lost five pounds of water weight this week, my lymphedema is diminished and I'm not hungry.
My run/walk this morning was fairly long and while I would have liked to have run a little more and walked a little less, I just wasn't up to it. Mind you it was hot, I haven't run in a week, I'd had less than four hours of sleep and I hadn't eaten before I exercised. All good excuses.
I am coming up to my one year diagnosis anniversary. It is a mere six weeks out and I would like to be in better shape when I hit it than I was at this time last year, (cancer notwithstanding...) I am on track to do that. I have almost lost the weight I packed on through chemo and surgery recovery. My upper body strength is no where near where it was, I can't even do a push up. My legs are pretty strong 'though. My flexibility is compromised, but my cardio is better off from the running I've been doing. I wonder if I start working my arms and chest if I'll be able to take it or if I'll be injury prone from the surgery. I wonder if I'll even be able to do push ups again or if that will aggravate my lymphedema.
This week started off crummy. In fact Wednesday to Wednesday kind of sucked. I'm glad I am moving on, and am back on track.
2 July 2012
This Week...
This week, was an exercise in patience. Last week I spent all of Wednesday and most of Thursday in the hospital with Dan. When I spend so much time away from the kids they get a little stressed. So there was much irksomeness in the house when I brought Dan home and it was 100+ outside, and kids were hot and cranky and wanting to see friends. We had some kids over Friday to swim. I got them out of the pool at 4:00pm We hustled into the basement shortly thereafter to sit out a nasty line of thunderheads that blew through. The power went out.
Do you know how annoying kids are when 'something is happening'? And people aren't feeling well, and mama is being pulled in a bunch of different directions. We got the other kids home, opened windows after the storm cooled things off and went to bed.
No power Saturday morning. The temperature was climbing so I deposited the kids with kindly neighbors and I drove Dan to his sister's to get out of the heat. We imposed on a few different friends and then the kids and I slept in the relatively cool basement.
No power Sunday morning. I tackled the fridge and kitchen. We lost everything in the fridge and then I had to empty all the dirty dishes out of the dishwasher and wash them by hand. I held off on most of the freezer. Then the kids and I bailed out to see Dan and hang out in some air conditioning. We brought Dan home to a somewhat cool house, (another storm having blown through to cool stuff off,) and ended up sleeping in most of our own rooms.
No power Monday morning. Dan went to work and I felt a lot of stress lift. Worrying about keeping him happy and the kids occupied was too taxing for me. I was a wreck all weekend. I felt a little better today.
I've mostly been a wreck for a couple of weeks. I had a rather complete emotional breakdown a couple of weeks ago and I'm still trying to figure out what's going on with that. One minute I was fine, the next I was a wreck. It happened while I was doing yoga and the only thing I can think of is that the last time I did yoga I was in a pretty dark place and it was some kind of trigger for me. I skipped the last class in the series the following week, partly because I was not looking forward to it and partly because I was stuck in the hospital reminding Dan to breathe while he was in recovery. I'm toying with trying a different beginner yoga class to see if I have another irrational breakdown. If so I guess I can write that off.
I was so cranky all weekend. Not just because it was hot and uncomfortable and I was pissed off at Dayton Power & Light, but I was worried about Dan, I was not sleeping well and ready to throttle the kids who could think only of themselves in our compromised situation.
We bugged out to a friends house tonight to charge devices and cool down a bit. When we left there was a lineman crew at work up the street. I'm hoping we'll be restored tonight. In more ways than one.
This week, was an exercise in patience. Last week I spent all of Wednesday and most of Thursday in the hospital with Dan. When I spend so much time away from the kids they get a little stressed. So there was much irksomeness in the house when I brought Dan home and it was 100+ outside, and kids were hot and cranky and wanting to see friends. We had some kids over Friday to swim. I got them out of the pool at 4:00pm We hustled into the basement shortly thereafter to sit out a nasty line of thunderheads that blew through. The power went out.
Do you know how annoying kids are when 'something is happening'? And people aren't feeling well, and mama is being pulled in a bunch of different directions. We got the other kids home, opened windows after the storm cooled things off and went to bed.
No power Saturday morning. The temperature was climbing so I deposited the kids with kindly neighbors and I drove Dan to his sister's to get out of the heat. We imposed on a few different friends and then the kids and I slept in the relatively cool basement.
No power Sunday morning. I tackled the fridge and kitchen. We lost everything in the fridge and then I had to empty all the dirty dishes out of the dishwasher and wash them by hand. I held off on most of the freezer. Then the kids and I bailed out to see Dan and hang out in some air conditioning. We brought Dan home to a somewhat cool house, (another storm having blown through to cool stuff off,) and ended up sleeping in most of our own rooms.
No power Monday morning. Dan went to work and I felt a lot of stress lift. Worrying about keeping him happy and the kids occupied was too taxing for me. I was a wreck all weekend. I felt a little better today.
I've mostly been a wreck for a couple of weeks. I had a rather complete emotional breakdown a couple of weeks ago and I'm still trying to figure out what's going on with that. One minute I was fine, the next I was a wreck. It happened while I was doing yoga and the only thing I can think of is that the last time I did yoga I was in a pretty dark place and it was some kind of trigger for me. I skipped the last class in the series the following week, partly because I was not looking forward to it and partly because I was stuck in the hospital reminding Dan to breathe while he was in recovery. I'm toying with trying a different beginner yoga class to see if I have another irrational breakdown. If so I guess I can write that off.
I was so cranky all weekend. Not just because it was hot and uncomfortable and I was pissed off at Dayton Power & Light, but I was worried about Dan, I was not sleeping well and ready to throttle the kids who could think only of themselves in our compromised situation.
We bugged out to a friends house tonight to charge devices and cool down a bit. When we left there was a lineman crew at work up the street. I'm hoping we'll be restored tonight. In more ways than one.
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