Shit I’m grateful for

Shit I’m grateful for -- Grace, grit, and gratitude

Cancer is a gift and breast cancer is wrapped in pretty pink ribbon (with touches of teal and lime for my fellow stage 4 homies, gotta represent!). It’s a gift that we didn’t ask for, we can’t return, we can’t re-gift to someone we dislike (not that we would), and we can’t just toss it out during some fervent spring cleaning session. But still, it’s a gift.

 Nah, I’m just fucking with y’all. It’s not a gift. It sucks. If it taught you grace, fine. If you like grits, holla at me (Southern born and bred). But gratitude? Because of cancer? I’m not so sure. I’ll give it a shot though. I present to you 10 reasons to be grateful to breast cancer.

 1. Forgetfulness: You can tell me a joke and I’ll laugh. You can tell it again a month later and I’ll laugh as hard as I did the first time, thinking it’s new. Chemo brain is real and long lasting but it can be a positive thing (I may be single handedly supporting the Post-It note industry, for example).

 2. Underbelly, Young Survivor Coalition, MetUp, METAvivor, etc. So many people going through the same thing, and we have all met some amazing people due to this fucked up disease. It’s important to not feel so alone and no one outside of this gets it.

 3. Creativity: When you have exhaustion, you have to learn ways around it. You allow yourself to buy convenience foods or order out or hire help. You may even find extra creative ways to be lazy, such as playing the cancer card to get out of anything you don’t want to do. Isn’t it nice to have the creativity to use cancer for living life however you want?

 4. Kiss-My-Ass attitude: It’s so nice to be able to say I really don’t fucking care what strangers think. Some of that may have come from age or elsewhere, but pretty sure cancer plays a role here. I’mma do what I want and if you don’t like it, kiss my ass.



 5. Cooperation: Raising a three year old is tough. Doing it while living with stage 4 breast cancer is extra tough. But I’ve learned to go along with a lot of what he wants because it’s easier on me. I pick my battles. If he wants to go play in the mud, I get dirty with him. I can totally cooperate with him on breakfast choices when donuts are involved. Movies at bedtime? Let’s do this.

 6. Appreciation of the moment: The past is behind me. I have no clue what the future holds. I don’t see another choice besides living in the moment. People meditate for years before they figure this shit out, all it took for me was the “gift” of cancer. (See? I wrote that without rolling my eyes too hard….) 

7. New boobs: Hey I got a ‘free’ boob job, right? Never mind that they are all franken-boobs. Never mind that I had to be bald and sick first. Never mind that the coconut shell expanders hurt. Never mind that 8 years the cancer is back and outside of my fake boobs now. New. Boobs. Save the tatas. NO. Save the women with cancer. Save the stage 4 lifers. Fuck the killer boobs. Um….was I supposed to be grateful for something here?

 8. Crap. Shit. Poop. I get to spend a lot of time with my cell phone reading facebook and stuff because of super fun side effects. To shit or not to shit. Apparently about half of us in stage 4 treatment have ‘loose booty’ (aka the trots, the shits, when you walk under a ladder and you feel something splatter, diarrhea!) and the other half are stopped up/constipated/carrying loads of bricks in the belly. Eww gross, why did I even put that in this article? Because it’s reality. I may make cancer look pretty but it’s not. Deal with it. We have to.

 9. Everyone who loves me: Although some friends disappear, some stay. I lost my mom (to this stupid fucking disease) but I still have my hubby. My friends are great and I love feeling the love from them. Of course, that would probably still be nice without cancer so maybe this one doesn’t count.

 10. Real talk. I can be blunt. I’m okay with that. I’m going to die. You’re going to die. I can be grateful for things in life with or without cancer. Go back and read the first letter of each list item and have a good fucking day.

Writing for the Underbelly

Instead of writing a post here, I wrote one for a website called The Underbelly.  They are about keeping it real and talking about the dark parts of breast cancer.  You can read my first writing for them here: (CW: language and discussion of death)

https://theunderbelly.org/2017/11/sht-happens-then-you-die/

Babies don't keep

They say "babies don't keep."  And that's true, they grow up and change and become people.   I mean, look how gorgeous my baby was 2 years ago!

We frequently wish the current years away by pining for the past ones. Awwww.... I miss that baby face, that toothless grin, those tiny toes.  Yes, that was awesome.  But you know what?  Watching him learn to walk and talk was amazing!  And the terrific twos?  Wow what fun we had!  And now he is 3.

"Time flies," people say.  I do not wish away this current moment.  I do not want to go back.  I want to see what is next, what he's learning now, what he comes home to tell me about..... because I just don't know how much I'll get to see.  And to be honest, neither do you.

Enjoy the homework fights in elementary school and the hot summer days of sports.  Embrace the tumultuous preteen years when they come, because there are many who don't get to see them.  Watch that sultry teenager with pride, knowing that you are getting to watch identity formation in action.  You can still look back fondly on the past, but don't wish away the present because you do not know what the future will hold.

Babies don't keep, but neither do toddlers, or threenagers, or school age, or preteens, or teenagers, or young adults.  Enjoy it all, while you can. 

It's not all Pretty In Pink

Tonight, I felt like a cancer patient.

Tonight, even though I just started my 3rd Ibrance (chemo pill) cycle after a week off, I felt like a cancer patient.

Tonight, even though I have all my hair, I threw up, a lot, it was gross, messy....I felt like a cancer patient.

Tonight, as I worried about what the future may hold, I felt like a cancer patient.

Tonight, as I lamented about how tired I've been and am, as my pimples and mouth sores are few, I know I'm luckier than many cancer patients.

Tonight, even as a stage 4 mets girl, it's okay that I'm a cancer patient.

Tonight, I'm at home in my own bed, with my amazing son and hubby, who love me as a cancer patient.

Tonight, as my stomach churns and I anticipate my daily digestive issues, I'm a surviving cancer patient.

Tonight, I think of how amazing my support system is, fighting with team Jenn, having cancer patience.

Tomorrow.......I'll go back to just being a cancer survivor.

#pinkdecades

Don't blink

In the blink of an eye, it all could change.
 Before you know it, nothing's the same.
 This life is short, that much we know.
 But do we really understand? And so
 we trudge forward, searching for better,
 Not realizing this isn't forever.
 The bad, the good, nothing is fixed;
 Our time with ambivalence is mixed.
 I watch my chest both rise and fall,
 Hoping that I've given my all
 and made this world happy, at least
 made some impression before life ceased.
 While my time is ticking, what will I do?
 This fate is ours: him, her, me, and you.
 Immersed in every moment, taking it all in;
 That's the key! The secret within.
 Feel every feeling, sing every song,
 Remember the love, peacefully belong.
 My wish is not just for me to make my mark,
 But also for you to lighten the dark.
 Before I know it, nothing's the same.
 In the blink of an eye, the whole world can change.

Waiting on NED, what a slow poke

So, I've been on my chemo pill (called Ibrance) almost three full weeks. Today will be the last day of taking it for this cycle. I'll get a week off, then start a new three week cycle. I'm so far pretty happy with the minimal side effects. I'm really feeling the fatigue today (to the point that it's noticeable to others apparently), but maybe I'll get some energy back this next week. The other most common side effect, neutropenia, I'm not showing so far. That's when your white blood cell count lowers, and you get sick easier. It's very nice that I don't have this side effect, since I have a cute little germ carrier named Brinkley. I've not had mouth sores or nausea (fingers crossed those stay away). Had some minor finger tingling yesterday but that could be coincidence. Hearburn for a couple of days. Terrible digestive stuff the last 4 days, I should go on and buy stock in Pepto and Immodium. This chemo can cause hair thinning, but not really major hair loss. I have noticed a little bit of thinning, but only because when I shower a little bit comes out on my fingers when I'm washing. My hair is thick though so it's not otherwise noticeable. Overall, doing very well. Will have my blood checked again in a month to make sure my white counts are doing well. I of course am having hot flashes from being in menopause, but nothing I can't handle. In two months, we will do some scans to see if the cancer is still visible, or, hopefully, that it's so small it can't be seen (NED: No Evidence of Disease). I may have leveled up to stage 4, but I plan to be here to annoy everyone for a very long time. Love you all, I am so grateful for the love and support I've been shown. Makes me feel like I'm stronger, and that my team, Team Jenn, will always win.

Repo-ductive organs

Thursday morning is my hysterectomy.  Should be laproscopic and robotic assisted with no more than one night in the hospital.

No more babies, but no more periods either.  Hot flashes, but no excess hormones making my cancer grow.  I'm ready, let's do it.  When I was almost done with graduate school, we decided it was time to start trying for a baby.  I got off the pill and a month later was diagnosed with breast cancer.  After chemo, countless surgeries, and radiation, we still had to wait 5 years (so I could take the tamoxifen) before we could try....not knowing if chemo had damaged my eggs.  I got off the tamoxifen to try for a baby on September 11, 2013.  Our miracle baby was born on September 11, 2014.  He's spoiled rotten and will always be.

Surgeries generally don't make me nervous anymore, but this one does a little bit.  The last time I was in the hospital was the first and only time I've been put in ICU.  A few days after Brink was born I woke up panicking and unable to breathe.  I got put in ICU while they ran tests and things and Cody got told he had to take Brink home without me.  My parents stayed in the hospital with me and Cody's went home to help him with Brink.  Eventually they figured out that I had too much fluid on my heart, congestive heart failure, cardiomyopathy.  Possibly from the chemo I'd had plus the stress of pregnancy and eventual c-section.  Feeling like I couldn't breathe was one of the scariest things ever.  My heart is in much better shape now, but that's the thing that scares me.  I'll be sent home Thursday or Friday, what if I wake up having trouble breathing again?  I was so lucky to already be in the hospital when that happened before.

Also, when I was in grad school after going through chemo and everything, my boss got diagnosed with uterine cancer.  She went in and had a hysterectomy and was at home recovering.  The day before she was due back at the doc for checkup, she had pain, but figured she'd just wait til she saw the doc the next morning.  She died of sepsis I think it was.  This was actually how I ended up in the job I'm in now.  I know rationally that there's no reason to think something bad will happen but that doesn't mean I'm not a little anxious.

So send my good thoughts, prayers, unicorn farts, crossed fingers, or whatever you feel will help.  And I love you all, just in case you didn't know.  <3 p="">