Back in 2013 during the middle of chemo, D and I went to see The Joy Formidable in concert and I got really sick. The venue had limited seating, so we were stuck standing, and I was so dizzy that I thought I was going to pass out. In fact, at one point I did faint in a bathroom stall. I was desperately trying to hold it together in order to not ruin the evening, as D was so excited to finally be seeing one of his fave bands. Right when I was about to cave and bail, a guy offered me his seat. I started feeling much better once I was able to sit and we were able to make it through the show. That guy saved our night, and I’ll always remember how kind he was. ❤️
Growing old is a treasure
everyone believes themselves to have.
They carry it around,
and sometimes put it in a drawer,
taking for granted that it will be there
later, always later.
I thought my treasure was a certainty,
like a bank account with a billion dollar balance.
But my treasure seems to be buried
or maybe it’s at the end of a rainbow
that I can only search for while dodging land mines
and bullets along the way.
I fear my body will give way
before I find my pot of gold.
But maybe dying young, beautiful, and loved
is a treasure of its own?
I decided to give LLR Carly another try. I had one before and I gave it to a friend because I thought it looked like a tent when I put it on. This time around I have it tied in the back to give it a more fitted look. That also helps pull up the back, which (imo) is way too long. Much better this way. Thanks to K for the Carly fashion tips!
I included this second pic to show off my hair. It’s getting long, which is exciting. There was a time I seriously worried I’d never have hair again. Oh the joys of chemo! Anyway, I didn’t straighten my hair today and I kind of like how it’s wavy/flippy in its natural state.
All cancerous and precancerous cells have been removed with a good, clean margin.
Epic fucking sigh of relief.
Two time survivor!!! What, what??!
I received my biopsy results today and it wasn’t good, but I expected that when I got a call from the doctor’s office this morning telling me they needed to move up my follow up appointment from three weeks from now to right fucking now.
Anyway…I may have cervical cancer, though what’s more likely is that I have highly worrisome precancerous cells that must be removed asap. So that’s happening on Friday morning. They’ll be taking a good chunk of my cervix as well.
I’m trying not to freak out, because what’s the point? But…I’m tired. So fucking tired. Like why does my body hate me so fucking much?
Four years ago today I had a bilateral mastectomy. It almost feels like another life.
I feel exhausted. I keep almost falling asleep while driving. Not good. Not good.
Chronic fatigue is a real medical condition. I need to remember just how much I’ve endured, and stop giving myself shit for practicing self-care.
I’m stressed. I feel like everyone needs something from me, and I’m running out of stuff to give.
But nobody said it would be easy. Right?
I’m currently relaxing in my giant tub with bubbles, candles, and red wine. I have a man who loves and supports me. I have two amazing kids. I have awesome friends, and a kick ass career.
Everything’s gonna be just fine.