When something doesn't fit.

What do you do when something doesn't fit?

When my pants don't button, I tend to eat healthy and workout...or buy new pants;)

That's a pretty easy solution.

When I was diagnosed 10 months ago (wow, it seems like so much longer), there was a time period where I felt that I didn't fit. This was a new concept/feeling to me.  I have always "fit".  Honestly, I normally feel like I fit in with pretty much any crowd.

Please don't take this the wrong way, my friends and family didn't treat me any different.  They weren't mean.  They were sensitive to my needs and wishes.  They were not the problem.

First, it started with my lack of energy.  I couldn't keep up with the workouts I was used to completing.  I was used to working out with friends and that was three-five hours of girlfriend time.  When I could no longer complete a workout, I was missing out on this time. It was usually replaced by spending alone time laying down. *My friends ALWAYS offered to walk/modify the workout, but I didn't want to hold them up/slow them down.*


Then, I noticed myself staring off thinking about God-knows-what instead of conversing when I was with my friends or family.  I really had to concentrate to have a normal conversation about anything other than cancer.

Next, the part that was frightening to me, I thought maybe I no longer "fit".  At home, I would probe my bearded man with questions like:

Is it normal to want to stay home all the time when my whole life I have wanted action? 

Do you think I've changed?  Have my friends changed?  Why don't I want to go to X, Y, or Z?

Maybe I'm better off staying home.  If they want to stop by, they can.

Is it because I don't care about the little things anymore?  It's not exciting to go shopping for new clothes, they're just clothes.  I have no desire to talk about the weather or plans for next week or month because I don't know how I'll feel. I really don't care what my/anyone elses hair looks like at this point, but I know I'm supposed to notice and care that someone got highlights or a new do.

I'm nervous to go to this/that party.  I might have to talk to someone I don't know/want to talk to.

I thought they (my friends, most of whom I've known my ENTIRE life) were so different from me now. It was hard to have a good time when I did decide to go.  I was tired and distant and different.  I didn't fit.

And I REALLY struggled with it.  Why don't I fit in?! What is wrong with me?!

Now that I'm feeling better.  I'm back to working regular work hours.  I'm working out a few times a week.  I have a little more energy. My pants are much closer to buttoning again.

Now, I get it.

Depression.  I didn't know what depression was before my diagnosis. (No, that's a lie.  I've been depressed before, but I was aware that I was depressed...I mean, I sat in a room and watched a blank television screen for goodness sake.  This was different.  This time, I thought I just stopped fitting in and didn't understand what was wrong with me.)

I have witnessed depression.  The bearded man gets a small case of it every winter.  I have family and friends that deal with it.  But, I had never personally struggled with it over a long period of time.  The bearded man did say a couple times, "Maybe you should try the antidepressants".  (I shot laser beams out of my eyes into his skull each time he made that recommendation.)

Looking back, I am so very thankful that I had the monsters to keep me up and alive, forcing me to get off my *ever growing dumper and live.

When something doesn't fit, what do you do?

Just like pants, I guess you can work to make it fit or buy new.  I bought new. I worked to make the new life that consisted of more time at home and less running around fit.  I found great reward in cuddling more, reading more books, playing dumb board games (I hate board games...even before I was Dori I had an awful memory, now it's SHOT!), and drinking my tea while watching the kids fight over an ipod or book or one red crayon when we have 15 red crayons.

My old life of running around from one place to the next fit well before, but I don't want to return to it. I guess it's just always going to feel a little too tight to button comfortably.  

My goal is to end somewhere in the middle.  I think that place in the middle for me is called content and happy.   I'm really close right now.  I'm content at home and I feel confident and comfortable in social situations again.

Depression is most often a silent fight.  Like most of our battles, we usually fight them alone in the dark, behind closed doors.  But that doesn't make them any less real.

Hopefully, my friends and family are happy that I've returned from la-la land and can actually have a conversation without tuning out. Some of them might prefer that I stay there...I give my opinion A LOT less when I'm in la-la land;)

*SDD description of her @$$ when she was prego, but I think it accurately describes my @$$ over the course of this year.  It continued to grow and grow until very recently when I decided it was not healthy to let it continue to grow.

Keep fighting to make it fit,

This picture really has no reason to be on this post, but I love it, so I'm sharing with you.  If you're fighting, pray.  It's the best way to make things fit.

I can't breathe again...

I'm trying REALLY hard not to let Satan blow it out this week.

But.  I can't breathe.

I'm sore and tired and weak.  Barely strong enough to hold it together right now.  I was thinking hoping praying that I would start gaining strength each day.  Begging for less aches each night during the first week.  I didn't want to get used to them, I wanted them gone.

Week two and already I realize that's simply not in the cards.  I just need to get used to this 'new normal' that fellow survivors have told me about.

Well, new normal blows.  I will gain some strength back and I did get to play volleyball for two hours this weekend.  But the aches aren't going anywhere.

So, I'm coping with this realization.  I know that it will get easier as my body adjusts to the new normal.  Already, I know that I need to give my body time to wake up a bit before I hop out of bed...I USED to be one of those annoying people that popped right out of bed, showered and started the day with an annoying spring in my step.  Now, I stretch my arms and legs before I crawl to the sitting position and then stretch a little more before I stand up.  (Part of this could be because I'm an old 32 years of age now;))

Anyways, I'm coping with this the best way I know how: patience and rest.  I've started to work out a little bit and hopefully that will help...but that's not what has taken my breath away!

------------------------------------------------

"In my sexy mamo gown in honor of you!!" complete with a smiling photo.

Good girl!! Sexy;)

A few days pass...

Got the call...have to go back for another Mamo and appointment with the radiologists:/ 

Well fuck!!!! When are you going and where?  I'll come and keep you company if I can.

It's fine.  If I have to go for a biopsy or some other tests, you can come.  I can get another squish by myself.  Change from my mam last year..."Ill defined mass."

And our conversation continued like this the rest of the week.  I'm worrying for her.  She is convinced she just needs another squish.  Everything is fine.

But me, well, I wish I were that optimistic.  Instead, I think thoughts like:

There were 15 people at bunco...one in 8.

I can't watch one of my best friends go through this right now. 

I'm not strong enough to help her right now.  

I'm not brave enough to look at her babies and understand first hand what hell their mommy is going to have to endure and how their life is going to be flipped the fuck upside down.

And I start researching again.  And it makes that can't breathe feeling come back again.  And I'm distant and scared again.

There are hundreds of sites like this one:  http://www.breast-cancer.ca/screening/mammographic-mass-characteristics.htm ILL DEFINED MASS

------------------------------

Last week another one of my close friends came over and told me that his mother has it. I couldn't breathe.  I told him EXACTLY what I DESPISED hearing: She's going to be fine.  They don't even know what they're dealing with yet and it may NOT be fine.  Yet, it just rolled right off of my tongue.
 There isn't anything that can be said when you hear the news.

 ------------------------------

I wonder if it will get easier for me to hear?  I hate hearing that someone else has to endure treatments.  HATE it.  Like instantly it makes me want to vomit.

And it takes breathe away.  This week is moving at ultimate turtle speed.  What if my beautiful friend has it?

I can't breathe again.  I can't stop thinking about her and what if.  I know that worry does not help/change anything, but I'm begging and pleading with God in her name while this week slowly moves to the retest date.

I wish I could get off of the roller coaster ride.  Actually, I think it might be more difficult to stop my head from spinning now that the ride has slowed down?!

                                                         ------------------------------
Deep breath.  After lots of photos, squishes and an ultrasound, my friend received the clear!! Lots of prayer this week.  Big, loud, noisy prayers.

Dodged a great big bullet today.

With a great big sigh of relief for my friend, but continued prayer focus on healing for Rod's momma,


Laura

Happy Valentine's Day!

 I helped Cam make her box for Valentines day.  I told Keegs to ask Dad for help so they could make it more rough and tough, more boyish.

 Amused, loving, awesome, supportive wife: Ummmm, honey, you need to make the hole bigger!  Do you need me to help you make the hole bigger?

Bearded Man (with eye roll): Why? It's just for valentines, right?  How big does it need to be??

Cami: It needs to be longer AND wider, daddy.  People send treats and stuff, too.

(I must admit, I was laying on the couch doing NOTHING other than read on this particular night, so the BM was probably highly irritated with my lack of motivation and ready to strangle me at any minute.)

Amused, loving, awesome, supportive wife: You need to do more than just make the top white, sweetheart.  Draw the batman signal or something!

Bearded Man: I thought this was Keegan's project?

Amused, loving, awesome, supportive wife: Keegan's FAMILY project.  I do most of his FAMILY projects for with him.  You got this.  You can do it, honey.

Bearded Man: This is stupid.  I don't even believe in celebrating Valentine's Day!!

Amused, loving, awesome, supportive wife: You have three living creatures that would suggest otherwise!

BAHAHAHA.  I love Valentine's day!! Even more now that there is zero chance of an additional monster;)  (March, April, May, June, July, August, September, October, NOVEMBER=9...Three monsters born in November;))

Disease free, but not free of disease...

When I started this blog, it was my release.  My own space to bitch and complain if that's what I wanted to do. Now that it has followers, I rarely use it as a release these days. 

I hope this doesn't turn into a complaining post, but I want to be honest as I continue on this survivor journey. I want to talk about how I feel like I'm cancer free, but I'm not free of cancer.

FATIGUE.  So you hear about fatigue as a side effect, but you think to yourself, yeah, I've been tired before too. FOR ME (maybe some people actually feel fatigue without a disease) I had never experienced fatigue.  Tired? Yes.  Multiple sleepless nights with children, caregiver to a cancer patient, up too late with too many drinks?  You bet ya.  Fatigue is a completely different ball game.

I can handle the joint pain.  It's more annoying than painful. A little reminder when I stand up too fast that my body went through hell this year and fought cancer.  Pain, I can handle.  Shooting, phantom pains in my armpits where the nerves are trying to send signals to the boobs, but my foobs don't have nerve endings to shoot to-yeah, I can handle those, too. The constant dull headache I have had since I started this maintenance drug, I'm sure I'll get used to that, too. Even the night sweats and hot flashes are manageable.

BUT THIS FATIGUE. Well plainly stated, it sucks. I just want to have energy again and not feel tired all of the time.  SO, even though it is the VERY.LAST.THING that I want to do tonight, I'm going to start working out with the hopes that I can combat this fatigue with endorphins.  I'm going to start slow with a yoga video and some lifting tonight.

Hopefully in a week/two I can report that I feel a little more free of disease!  For those of you that will worry that I'm still tired.  My oncologist and radiologist said that it is TOTALLY normal to suffer from fatigue for a year.  It is not uncommon to battle fatigue FoReVeR after cancer treatment.

Cancer Sucks, Post 123205982309670948365-09831249873209874

Disease free, but not free of disease.

Still energy enough for lots of love,