pink thoughts

My planner says today is Breast Cancer Awareness Day (even though I couldn't find internet proof to back up that claim), so I thought I'd photograph a bunch of pretty pink things in my house, and say a few wise and inspiring things about breast cancer, and then wish you all a wonderful day and send you off to enjoy the week.

But, today is gloomy and windy and gross, and I don't feel like fighting with the horrible lighting to go the all pink route, so I am instead going the "I bought this painting for the frame, and behind the hideous bird picture I was thrilled beyond words to find this delightful paint-by-number" route.

(Has anyone besides me noticed that I have a tendency toward the run on sentence? I also talk in run on sentences, so let's just say we're going for authentic and pretend it's not annoying.)


So, even though there is not a trace of pink to be found in the photos, I'm still going to talk the pink talk.

First of all. Thank you.

Thank you for your kind, encouraging words. They have meant the world to me these last months.

Several times, I have gone back and re-read the comments on my original post and they just make my day.

I especially love it when you let me know that you've scheduled your mammogram or have spent some quality time checking in with the girls. And my very, very favorite was hearing that you were doing a self-exam whilst reading my post. Cracked me flat up and made me smile from ear to ear.

Keep it up, ladies. This is important stuff.

And if you haven't done a self-exam or scheduled that over due mammogram, isn't today the perfect day to get the job done?


As for me, I'm almost four weeks past my last chemo and I'm feeling better every single day.

I've got nine eyelashes left (two on one side and seven on the other - lopsided is the newest trend for fall), and check every day for the new babies to start growing.

(By the way, does anyone have any false eyelash advice? I've found some fairly natural looking eyelashes, but have never worn them before. I'd love to hear any newbie tricks or tips.)

I somehow kept a decent eyebrow count, so I'm quite happy about that.

I'm all about the new hair patrol. I make my family check my head for hair pretty much every time they walk into the room. My son says I've gone from one sprout per square inch to three, but I think that was just so I'd leave him alone for five minutes.

I can take my daily walk and make it home without wanting to take a nap in the ditch on the side of the road.

I'm sleeping better, to which I have to say a big ya-hoo, because sleep issues were probably the biggest thorn in my side during chemo.

I've gone from 468 prescription bottles on my night stand to three, and I'm hoping to get to zero asap.

I had a great chat with my oncologist last week, and while there are no guarantees that my cancer won't come back, I'm planning to live my life like it won't. When I get a little freaked about the eleven percent chance that my cancer will return, my hubby is quick to remind me that I have an eighty nine percent chance that it won't.


And that, my friends, is a glass that is much more than half-way full.

trust the journey

I've always loved the above quote, but I especially love it this year.

My spring was entirely taken over by my diagnosis, the hugely oppressive, chest crushing weight of the unknown, and then major surgery and recovery.

But having completed my final chemo treatment yesterday - yay! - the hardest part of my battle is over.

Even though I know I've got a couple more weeks of foggy chemo yuck ahead of me, at this very moment, I'm feeling light as a feather.

The black cloud I've had hovering over me is gone.

Our gross, rainy weather has cleared and the skies are a brilliant blue.

My beloved mountains are covered in a beautiful, fresh snow.

The leaves are turning.

Life is good.

That bears repeating, people.

Life.

Is.

Good.

Two very dear friends of mine sent me this gorgeous tote to use as my chemo bag.


It's imprinted with the words, "Trust the Journey".

Trust the journey.

While the journey is still far from over, taking it one step at a time with my faith, family and friends, I know I can face what still lies ahead.

I hope you have a fabulous weekend!

I know I'm going to.

file this away

When I found out I had breast cancer, three hundred and sixty five million thoughts took their turns rolling through my head.

Make that three hundred and sixty six.

I'm sure none of you will be surprised to hear that after the initial life and death types of thoughts, and the I have no clue what's in store kinds of thoughts, I eventually worked my way down the list to the losing my hair during chemo kinds of thoughts.

I put off thinking about it as long as possible, but the wonderful nurse who was pretty much in charge of managing my life from the day I was diagnosed finally forced me to think about it the week before I started chemo.

We talked about wigs and hats and scarves - all perfectly viable options - and then at the end, she told me about a company that takes your own hair and turns it into a wiggish/cap type of thing that you wear with a hat.

Bingo! I was sold. It was the perfect option for me.

The company is called Hip Hats With Hair, and they have several different products, but the one I chose is the Underhair Halo Wig.

While it was still extremely - and I mean extremely difficult to have my hair cut and then have my head shaved, it was a bit easier knowing that I would soon have my very own hair back on my very own head.

Here I am with my youngest the day before the big haircut.


My BFF followed the website instructions for cutting and packaging up my hair. We both cried while she put it in all the little ponies, we cried some more as she cut each pony off, and then we cried some more while she took the clippers to my head.

And then, thank goodness, we were finally done crying.

About two weeks later, my hair arrived right back here, ready for wearing.

Here I am with my hubby and my new hair and my favorite hat.


(This picture was taken with the self timer on my camera and we are laughing because I obviously have no clue how to use the self timer on my camera. That we ended up with one acceptable picture is a miracle in line with loaves and fishes.)

My hair is amazingly comfortable. (Although, bald feels the best, and the second I get home the hair comes off.)

I pop it on almost every single time I leave the house.

You can wear it with any hat that covers the cap.

It is very well made.

I feel totally myself when I'm wearing it, and during a season in life when I'm not feeling myself in many other ways, that means a lot.

In order to have a halo made with your own hair, your hair needs to be at least eight inches long. However, they have many similar products available that do not require you to send in your own hair.


So ladies, file this one away in case you or someone you love ends up walking down this road. It's been a huge factor in my ability to feel good about myself while going through chemo, so I wanted to get the word out in case it can be of help to someone else.

p.s. Random zinnia pictures included simply because I realized I haven't posted a single zinnia picture this year, and summer can't end without some zinnia love.

p.p.s. Six treatments down, only two to go. If I stay on schedule I'm done October 3rd. WOOT!

pink

Do you like guessing games?

Personally, I hate them.

Unless the clues are super easy.

As in, so very easy that I don't even have to use my brain.

So, I'm kind of sorry to say that we are going to play a guessing game today.

I promise to quickly put you out of your misery though.

Here's your first clue.

Ready?


I just this very minute realized that this particular clue could lead some of you to believe that I have a granddaughter on the way.

I do not have a granddaughter on the way. At least not that I know of!

So, we'll quickly move on to clue number two.


Which.....could also apply to a baby, but in this case does not.

Any guesses?

Okay, enough is enough.

Let's just get it over with.


It is getting easier for me to say, but obviously not easy enough that I could just spit it out on the internet without a little photo help!

Yes. I have breast cancer.

But, according to my much beloved oncologist, my prognosis is excellent!

I've had my surgery.

The cancer had not spread to my lymph nodes - hallelujah!

I've had three rounds of chemo so far.

I don't need radiation.

I'm settling into a routine.

I'm going to be just fine.

It's most definitely not the summer I had planned, (my poor garden!) but I can honestly say it's still shaping up to be a very good summer.

I've been surrounded by family and amazing friends and wonderful neighbors. Meals galore. Thoughtful gifts. Lots of company that is happy to do as much or as little as I'm feeling up to at any given moment.

Lots of movies and sitting on the dock "pond watching", as my niece says.

My hubby has been my caregiver. He sat by my side for two solid weeks after my surgery. Waited on me hand and foot. Emptied my drains. (If you don't know what that means - ignorance is bliss.) I can't even begin to list all the things he's done for me and all the support and love he has given throughout this journey.

He's a keeper, oh yes he is.

My boys, my daughter-in-law, my parents, my sister and her family, my brother, all my in-laws.....all of them have been there for me, but that doesn't surprise me one little bit. They are amazing people and I am so thankful for them.

My bff is getting ready to make her third thousand mile round trip visit to keep me company.

My support circle is huge and wonderful and has made this journey so much easier.

Blogging about this has not been a priority for me, but now that the dust has settled, I do have a few things I want to share, and if it makes a difference for even one of you, I'll be thrilled.

I've had yearly mammograms for at least ten years now. I have not been anything even remotely resembling diligent with self exams. I relied on my mammos to do most of the work, and gave the girls the once over whenever it crossed my mind, which was not very often.

I had my last mammogram in September, and in April I found a lump - a rather large one, but not during a self exam. I just kind of noticed it. They did a new mammogram, compared it to my old mammogram, did an ultrasound and a biopsy and long story short, I was diagnosed with an aggressive form of breast cancer. Between diagnosis and surgery three weeks later, my tumor had pretty much doubled in size.

Scary.

Ultimately, I really don't want to bore you with the details, and there are many, many details and a whole new vocabulary to learn and statistics that show that even though they think they got everything, there's still a chance they didn't. It's all a part of what everyone seems to want to call the "new normal".

For the record, I hate the words New Normal.

But here's the thing that I really want to say.

Don't be like me.

I'm an experiential learner, and unfortunately that means that often, I have to learn things the hard way. If I read this very story on your blog and you told me that I should start doing monthly self exams and that I shouldn't rely on my yearly mammogram it would not have changed one single thing for me. I would have probably thought that yes, I should probably do more frequent exams, but then I wouldn't have given it another thought.

But, if by some chance you are even a tiny bit smarter than me and could possibly learn something from my story and go from non-existent or infrequent self exams to regular self exams?

That? That would make my day.

Because.......


Did you know this statistic?

I did not know this statistic.

Statistics do very weird things to me. In a very silly and totally ridiculous way, I kind of feel like I've taken one for the team for seven of my friends/female family members. Seven of them are safe from breast cancer. But which seven? I have more than seven ladies in my life that are very important to me. I am no longer physically capable of taking another one for the team, so this means you all are going to have to step up and catch this ugly disease as early as possible, because you just may be the next one in your very own personal group of eight.

This little blog currently has 1320 followers. Most of which I'm assuming are female. If my calculator serves me right, 158 of you will get breast cancer at some point in your life. (If that math is wrong, I blame chemo brain.) And if you dodge the actual breast cancer bullet, you will doubtless still be touched several times over by someone with this disease.

My cancer was very fast growing, and maybe I would not have found my tumor any earlier even if I had been doing regular exams, but that's not the point.

The point is, that for you or someone you know and love, regular exams could be the difference between discovering cancer still contained in the breast, and cancer that has spread to the lymph nodes and then possibly on to who knows where else.

Whew!

I think I'm done now.

Aren't lectures fun?

This was fun, yes?

No?

I know. It's not a fun subject, but as I said before, if it makes a difference for even one of you, then it's worth the departure from posts about flowers and photography.

p.s. I have a little favor to ask of y'all.

I need you to know that I am 100% comfortable with my treatment plan.

I know chemo is from the devil. However, I don't need to hear that chemo will kill me faster than cancer will kill me, even though I know there are going to be some of you who feel that way.

I love chemo!

Not.

I HATE chemo, but I am having chemo and I've made my peace with all the ugliness that comes along with it.

Please join me in my chemo peace!

Also? I know that your great Uncle Herbert's cousin's brother who works at the local hardware store has a neighbor whose sister was cured of cancer by eating seaweed during the full moon of every month that contains the letter S.

I also know that there are many, many, many other treatment alternatives out there. I know that people have very strong feelings about various cancer treatments.

Again, I need you to know that I am 100% comfortable with my treatment plan.

:)

And if you love me even a little bit, please refrain from including in your comment any sentence that contains both the word "coffee" and the word "enema".

Now it's time for my morning nap, so you all go and have a great day!

But not until you've done your breast exam!