Surrounded

“Why did you do all this for me?" he asked. "I don't deserve it. I've never done anything for you.'
You have been my friend,' replied Charlotte. 'That in itself is a tremendous thing.”
― E.B. White, Charlotte's Web

I recently was fortunate enough to return to Ottawa for a visit. I had lived here for twenty years of my life. I  had grown up here in some ways even though I was twenty when I arrived. I met my birth parents, gained a large diverse family and learned how I wanted to live my life. It was here that I fell in love,  and had my heart broken. I became educated in more than just book smarts. Most importantly in Ottawa I was able to surround myself with incredible, smart, , funny women. I had left Newfoundland in 1984, with a solid base of wonderful girlfriends, they laid the foundation for what I knew I needed when I left to find my way. On this trip I knew I wanted to see some of the women who were so dear to me for so many years.  Alot had happened to me in the last year and it had been many years since I had seen many of  these women. Through the darkest times many of their voices had let me know that I mattered and that their hearts were with me. Its amazing to me the power we all have to impact the world around us if we chose to. More importantly to change the experience of someone by just letting them know you care. As I sat around the table with these women at a restaurant in Ottawa, I realised how completely blessed I was. I had not had contact with some of the women for several years and as we began chatting and laughing I observed that time is just that. That these women reflected everything I hold dear. They encompassed who I am. They taught me that evening, that you are who you surround yourself with. They brought out the best in me. They all love me for who I am. It doesn't matter that I am sometimes like the dog in the movie " UP" and distracted quite easily. " Bird"!!!!!... That I have  left and gone on with my life in another city. I knew they felt my pain of the last year and in their own ways had lifted me up to where I needed to be. There were several women who could not come that night but I knew it would of been the same feeling had they been there. Creating these life long relationships takes a alot of work, and shows me that what you put out there definitely comes back to you if you allow it to.

I have been back living in Newfoundland for six years. Many lifelong friends still here when I had returned. They embraced me back into the fold when I returned to live here again. This last year they became the backbone of my recovery. They were the ones who stepped in when family did not know how to or could not help. They just did it. What ever it was that was needed. My circle of strong wonderful women has continually expanded in my time back home. Each one bringing something to my life that compliments beautifully and how I want to live it . Showing me courage in their own struggles, and grace under pressure in trying times.
I know that all these people are a direct reflection of who I am. They teach me about who I want to be when I eventually grow up. They make me laugh, they make me cry. They make me smarter and they definitely make my life richer.
So when you see me and marvel at how well I am doing, just look around me and it won't take you long to figure out how you tell cancer to take a hike.
 Be surrounded!

Here are just a a look at some of the women who surround me...



“When we honestly ask ourselves which person in our lives mean the most to us, we often find that it is those who, instead of giving advice, solutions, or cures, have chosen rather to share our pain and touch our wounds with a warm and tender hand. The friend who can be silent with us in a moment of despair or confusion, who can stay with us in an hour of grief and bereavement, who can tolerate not knowing, not curing, not healing and face with us the reality of our powerlessness, that is a friend who cares.”
― Henri J.M. Nouwen, The Road to Daybreak: A Spiritual Journey

Wonderland

"When you try your best, but you don't succeed
When you get what you want, but not what you need
When you feel so tired, but you can't sleep
Stuck in reverse"

Fix You by Coldplay

I can hear John Mayer singing " Your body is a wonderland". That my friends is a understatement. I have come to accept that everyday can bring something new. I thought nothing could upset me anymore, which  is why I was taken aback when I realised a couple of weeks ago that my eyelashes were falling out again. It seemed to really upset me. I was having flashbacks of losing my eyelashes just after my last round of chemo. How I carefully applied my mascara to the one remaining hair left on my lower lashes. At that time I knew they might fall out and although sad I worked through it pretty fast. This time I went around telling everyone. I was so pissed. I try so hard not to sound petty with the things happening to me, cause you know it could always be worse. I should be thankful and I am but sometimes I get tired and just want to sit and feel sorry for myself. Lashes will grow back right? I got some stubbies happening now. I got three new mascara's trying to create the illusion of eyelashes. I knew this  upheaval of emotion  that was happening to me needed some reflection.

I have been taking my tamoxifen religiously like a good little cancer patient. Now there is a drug for ya! My joints continue to hurt and my hands seem to be losing their dexterity. I can't seem to grasp things like before. Its weird. I have trouble pulling the blankets up in the morning. Now this drug is interfering with my morning roll over. Not good. I do however suck it up and move on daily. I had as well started the clinical trial as I have shared and the drug came with its own bag of tricks. Mostly giving me nausea and enough gas to run a generator. At a time where being sexy is a fleeting thing, feeling like an Esso station doesn't help. When I think about things I know I have been trying to cope with all this. I think losing my eyelashes again was just another kick in the arse I didn't need. Now that I  figured out why it pissed me off, I am over it. I am not sure my eyelashes are going to come back like they were before as the hair on my legs and under my arms is not growing the same. The hair on my head of course is defiant and as thick as carpet. Although I get lots of compliments on my cropped look, I am not a fan. I need a tube of brill cream to tame it down these days. I do however love the compliments.

I had to make a decision this last week that was hard. I had been pumped to be on this clinical trial.  It would mean I would be followed by the cancer clinic and get to take advantage of the drug. What I have learned however is how it is making me feel. I am feeling sick and generally miserable at times. I have managed for two months to cope but with much reflection and consultation I have chosen to take a four week break to see how I feel. I know in my heart that if I feel better after four weeks, I won't go back to taking the pills. I felt like I had failed myself somehow at first. I did this so that if I was lucky enough to be on the drug I might benefit somehow from it. I sit here now thinking its just not worth it. I am surprised to be feeling like this, but at this point quality wins over quantity. I feel good about my decision. I will figure out other ways to help me live to be an old woman.

At almost a year since my diagnosis I realize that this journey I am on changes constantly and that figuring out one day at a time is my gift to myself.

Lights will guide you home
And ignite your bones
And I will try to fix you

Fix you by Coldplay

365

365

H.-P. Blavatsky interprets it by means of the Greek letters, as "the animation of the earth by the spirit of life".

I didn't pull a 360, but I got 365. That is the number not only in the calendar year but also the number of cc's of saline in my chest now. After three months of every other week visits to the plastic surgeon I am on my way to becoming a real girl again. Don't take offence to that statement, that is only from a personal naked point of view. After a mastectomy you feel like Humpty Dumpty, unsure how all the kings men will put you together again,  not only your body but your soul. A plastic piece of material inserted into your skin and blown up like a birthday balloon isn't exactly what you think is your gateway to that answer. This week as I went to what I hoped was my final expansion to my bionic breast I ended up waiting an hour and half. For some reason I was happy to sit in that waiting room alone. My life has gotten back to the new normal and off course that means work, home, cook, clean, wash, sleep and do it all again. As my life moves on and my illness becomes a thing of the past in some ways, I am grateful to just be able to be with myself and take time to reflect. Of course true to my nature that included a dozen texts and emails, god forbid I disconnect from the world for too long. They might forget me. I finally had my name called to go in. One final poke and I am done for now was all I could think. My plastic surgeon came in and as per usual greeted me with a welcoming smile and handshake and reminded me that I mattered. I highly recommend a occasional dose of validation tops you up for another day. We agreed that we would finish the fills on my expander today which meant a large amount of saline but I was good with that. I laid on the table and he searched with the magnet to find my port to insert the needle. I knew the needle would hurt more this time, and with so much poking in the last year I was pretty much done with things being inserted in me. The initial pinch and then the calm that its in. It had been a month since he last did this so I could really feel it. 40cc's , 50 cc's, keep going keep going 60 cc's. I think my chest is going to explode. It doesn't . That is it were done. Thank god I think. I know this is gonna hurt by tomorrow, and it did. The doctor has  someone with him who seem to be in training and he is showing her and talking about my chest and the work that has been done. With no sense of shyness anymore I look at her and say " your welcome to touch them". She does. I am happy to help. Sometimes things that happen to you are so surreal that you just go for it. Never in a million years did I think I would be in that situation. Life is a funny.
So once again, being good ol Sondria, I am in a thrift store with some friends the next day. My chest is hurting and I walk to what I think is my friend and start rubbing the softball in my chest and  and say "just feel how hard it is". I look up. The poor woman is trying to ignore me, her eyes turned as to not make contact with the freak asking her to touch her boob. I say I am so sorry and run away to the other side of the store killing myself laughing. Now that is a memory.
Right after my surgery this fall I had Malin take a pic of me with my newly started construction. Once again on first glance of the pics I am shocked. I had chosen to show both sides of my chest as neither were original to me. What I noticed about the pic was that I still retained a sexuality, this was evident due to my slight uncomfortableness with the nudity. I talked to Malin and as she said its cause there is a breast there. I struggled with posting it on here but I think its an honest representation of my journey that you all are reading and watching. I can talk about it day and night but seeing it creates clarity not only for myself but for those reading this blog who are either going through the same thing or are just curious about my story.
I can't end this blog without saying thank you to the women who told me recently that they read my blog. That they are moved by what I write and are able to take something away from it. The acknowledgement fills me. Sometimes we do things in isolation unaware of the greater impact.
There was an article last week in the paper about living in the present after or with cancer. I think we have to honour the past, to learn and move forward with purpose from our experience. Words like learning and forward being key. The secret to unlocking your life.
I want to thank Malin Enstrom once again for documenting my journey with photography with grace and clarity in the images she takes. The day she took these I was surprised how shy I was with opening my blouse. We took them spontaneously, and in the rain and fog. I will be forever indebted to Malin for giving me courage. Courage that I never had. Also lastly I would like the shadows from the trees for making me look like I had abs.

Please do not crop or alter these pictures without the permission of the photographer, Malin Enstrom. And please, always leave her copyright © 2012 Malin Enstrom.

The looking glass

“It is necessary ... for a man to go away by himself ... to sit on a rock ... and ask, 'Who am I, where have I been, and where am I going?”
― Carl Sandburg

Sitting down to write this blog has been a very interesting experience for me. Wanting to tell you something significant in my journey, wanting it to be meaningful to me so that when I write it down it means something to you. Its been a month since I wrote anything, yet so much has gone on in my life. Christmas and New Years has come and gone. I am back to work full time. I started a clinical trial and think I am on the actual drug in my blind study. I am trying hard to get back to my life that was with the reality of what my life actually is today. I am changed. That is for sure.
I had lots of great times over Xmas with wonderful moments with friends and family. Just before the holidays I received a phone call one evening. It was a 83 year old lady who had read my newspaper article which her family member had saved for her. I was touched that she took the time to reach out and share who she was and what she had experienced as a breast cancer survivor. Sometimes you do something and you never realise the impact that it has on someone else. Everyone deserves to be validated in their experiences no matter what they are. I know that for sure. You need to be reassured that it was all real and that you made it. That you kicked ass even when yours was being destroyed.

One of the most humbling things that happened to me lately was when I received a email from a young woman in the United Kingdom who asked me to be part of a project she started to support her friend who has breast cancer. She had come across my blog. She asked me to write a letter to my 14 year old self. Wow thirty three years of experience to impart to myself. What would I like to tell myself. People who know me know that I am a complete reflection of where I come from and the life I have lived. What nuggets of wisdom do I have to share? I thought I would write the letter and share it on here before I send it off so here it goes.

Dear 14 year old me......
Where do I start. Your such a rose coloured glasses girl. It will be your saving grace at times. You will weather some tough times but your attitude will always get you by.
You are having a tough time with self acceptance but you will figure it out, as you grow so will your ability to know and love yourself.  Allow yourself to be a never ending story.  Don't forget that you are smart and you have a ton of potential. The answers of who should be or what you should do with your life are in everything you do. Always be self aware of your gifts. Your success will always be driven by the understanding that you deserve a good life.
You will receive love and you will lose love. Your heart will be broken, mended and will move on to love again.  Remember you are not made whole by those you love only made better. Love yourself first, its only then you can give yourself fully to another.
Your discovery of your biological family will help make it all make sense. Now you know that you were raised with great love with one family and were born of love by another. You are a very fortunate girl.
You will be a great mom and raise a pretty good template for an adult. Make sure to remember all you learned when you are parenting, biggest challenge of your life. Well that is until you turn 46.
Your going to hit a bump in the road, okay more like a crater but you will discover new strength. Your fear and doubt will drive you towards doing whatever it takes to get through. Your body will be forever changed and you will have to figure out how to accept it all.  Y our self acceptance challenged once again but hey you have been here before. Remember during this time that the ones that love you are doing the best they can.
Stay away from the " why Me's" and the "what ifs". You have learned that life is fragile and that living in the future or pondering what is already happened is time taken away from living your life now.
Be grateful for the gifts, learn from the challenges, you only have today and tomorrow hasn't come.
Open your heart to all the possibilities so you will always believe.
With great hope and encouragement
Sincerely
Me

“I can't go back to yesterday because I was a different person then. ”
― Lewis Carroll, Alice in Wonderland

" Where the clear wind blows"

 

The distinction between the past, present and future is only a stubbornly persistent illusion. 
Albert Einstein 

The past week has been nothing short of amazing with a splash of overwhelmed and a couple of ass kicking days.

I waited last week, like a kid on xmas morning, for the paper to come. I knew the article would be in there.  My expectations for what Sarah would write being muted with the unknown. I dug through the paper  to find the section she said it would be in and there it was. Me!  A lot of me. Now the other half of St. John's would know. I preceded to have a mild panic attack, while my husband looked at me saying " why are you crying?'  The reality of what has happened once again there for me to accept.  Joy, sadness all mixed into one moving article. Malin's pictures startled me at first, like I had never seen them before, as if it was all new to me. Its completely moving to have your life reflected  to you in a well written and photographed manner.  I cried as I read the story moved as if it was someone else's.  I will be forever grateful to Sarah for writing it and for the newspaper deeming it worthy of such coverage.

The emails, phone calls, texts and Facebook messages were amazing. How could one not be moved by such support. One highlight was a phone call later that night from a number and name I did not recognize. I wasn't going to answer it but my husband did the honors. It was for me. The woman addressed herself and told me she had read the article and she had some questions for me. She preceded to ask me some things and then began to tell me a little about herself. She was 89, lived in the Goulds and reads the paper everyday. She told me she was as fit as a fiddle but had family who were not as lucky as her and in the grand tradition of a 89 year old told me a great story about the man who grew walnuts on the west coast of Newfoundland. She shared that she had written him as well, asking him about his endeavor and that he sent her some walnuts. They were a bit dry she said pondering his harvesting methods with me. I thought how lucky I was to get that phone call. A couple of days later an email was forwarded  from a young breast cancer survivor who wanted to tell me that she related to my story, and then preceded to candidly share hers. I was completely moved by the honesty. Her pain and resilience evident in every word. How honored I was to bare witness to her journey through her email.

My journey continues to challenge me as my walking on air moments are compounded with scrap me off the floor days. After 60 new cc's in my ever expanding right side occurred so did the wonderful pain that can accompany it. Felt like I was set back weeks. Well I wasn't but I am so dramatic these days where would I be if I didn't try to reel in the reader. I did my blood for the clinical trial, 9 vials they took, I think they are harbouring some vampires who need human blood.Although if one of the  guys from the Vampire Diaries needs a donation I am your woman. It turns out my liver is ever so slightly off and will have to be retested next week, but only one vial this time thanks be to god. I arose many a day this week feeling like someone had knocked the wind out of my sails. The Tamoxifen doing the dance of the seven veils on my hormones. Crawling in a ball seemed like the best solution. I however, did not. Hardest thing ever not to give into that feeling. As has been the way through this journey my friends reigned supreme. Lunch with amazing women on several days lifted me up where I belong. ( okay roll scene from Officer and a Gentleman). Thanks for carrying me when I was having trouble carrying myself. This week also mean't two more women became part of Malin's and My project. One interviewed and one photographed. How could one not feel lucky.

I am returning to work this week. The thought of returning to routine, daunting but maybe what I need. Not sure what I need anymore, but I know I want everything.

Time goes by, no time to cry, life's you and I, alive today

" Up where you Belong"

Time goes by, no time tTime   cry, life's you and I
A live todTime goes by, no time to cry, life's you and I

A live todayTime goes by, no time to cry, life's you and I

Aay

" What if?"

 

"Normal"

An adjective used by boring people to make themselves feel better

Urban Dictionary

Well my first sign that things are really returning to normal this week happened. I had to pluck a hair off my nipple, I am happy to report. No surgery nor chemo can keep me from being the hair beast that I am.  I was worried that my breast would not return to somewhat normal after a second mastectomy but have no fear.  There is nothing that makes you wanna sing " I feel like a woman" more than standing in front of a mirror plucking hair out of your boob. I would like to thank my parents for the strong propensity to have lots of body hair and especially in places one would rather not such as the above mentioned area. Now I know that some of you are saying to yourselves " yup been there, done that. I will take solace in knowing that I am returning to the fold. 

While some things return to normal, there is one thing that has changed. My  greatest fear is that it will be permanent. I can't believe that something I held so dear could be taken away from me. As I  prepare to say it I get a small lump in the back of my throat. After several attempts I am realising that my ability to drink red wine has diminished.  I feel a tear welling, I love red wine. Always done with moderation but with immense enjoyment. My body has decided I can't really tolerate it at present. My hope is that this is a temporary moment of insanity for my body and that time and healing will reverse such an awful side effect. Please keep me in your prayers.

After many months of little of no activity and walking the length of myself was about all I could do, I knew I needed to get moving. As anybody who knows me knows that exercise and Sondria usually are not in the same sentence. I know after all I have been through that this had to change. I had been asked if I would like to join the Avalon Dragons, dragon boat team in there winter training. I am happy to report that I have gone two whole weeks in a row. A wonderful group of women full of joy and a real sense of community. Once again I realise that I could be sitting at home waiting for life to happen, or I could get out there and make it happen. Through my whole illness I realised that sickness can happen but you still are the captain of you life. You steer the ship. I can have everything or I can have nothing, its up to me. My life is happening, so now I have to live it. I can't wait for others to make me whole or happy.

I also got to attend the book launch for Phil Carpenters book " Breast Stories" featuring women across Canada who had their portraits taken by Phil. There were local women who were featured and were at the launch. It was both moving and empowering. I was grateful to be there.

I officially signed up for a clinical trial at the cancer clinic. Another pill for another five years but if the outcomes from this study does not benefit me maybe someone else will benefit down the road. I figure I got nothing to lose anymore by taking chances. I watched the following video this week and it made me pause. As my armour of the last months begins to melt away I am left with my new reality and this gives me reason to reflect about how I continue from here. I feel vulnerable but in turn maybe that opens me to  knowledge and change. I would like to share it with you as I hope it makes you stop and think about your life if that is what you need.

"A Grand Thing"

"I have sometimes been wildly, despairingly, acutely miserable, racked with sorrow, but through it all I still know quite certainly that just to be alive is a grand thing."
Agatha Christie 

Recovery is a funny road. You want to be better, you need to be better, but sometimes you just are not. Being honest with yourself now that is the tricky part.

As I get on with daily life and the prospect of returning to work my last 8 months seem like a blur. One diagnosis, two surgeries, four rounds of chemo and now five years of Tamoxifen. Seems daunting doesn't it? Life has a way of continuing, it keeps going. People have to work, or go to school. The dog  and cats needs to fed. The laundry needs to be done and suppers need to be cooked. You gotta buy groceries to do that don't you?
XMAS IS COMING! XMAS IS COMING!( Picture me screaming this like Eddie Murphy in "Delirious" in his sketch about the ice cream man coming) I think I need a concierge. Where to put my energies. Finding balance in an already crazy year.

Emerging from a crisis back to somewhat of a normal life is challenging . Your not who you were a short time ago. I am not even sure at this point I know who I am yet. I had a moment to pause this week as I remembered my dad, a WW2 Veteran. A man who wore his Veterans jacket proudly, but spoke very little about what he saw in action in Europe. His crisis, kept to himself for only him to remember. I certainly did not get that trait from him. I am like Julie Andrews in the Sound of Music screaming from the mountains. My anger, frustration and sadness for the whole world to see. That is just me though, the way I am. I always find it easier to process my feelings when they are reflected in the faces and words of others. I have learned though that not everyone is comfortable with my take on my illness and that even with all my education in helping people I still have a lot to learn. I always try to treat everyday as a school day. Learning from those around me.  Happy to be humbled no matter how difficult.

I was once again given perspective this week as I went around Sears looking for nothing in particular and a woman with two children walked by. I could hear the kids talking and turned to look. The toddler in the cart had a medical mask on and had her hair was  gone. There was the mom just pushing along in Sears like any ordinary day. Life needed to continue for them even though its probably the toughest it could be. That gave me what I needed right then and there. My heart sank a little this week as my aunt learned her breast cancer has returned and she must have a mastectomy at the ripe age of 81.  My brother called to tell me that his biological father just died. The world keeps giving and taking.

I did however admire myself in the mirror this week. Happy with my one left boob. A girlish anticipation of having two someday. I look more like the long range mountains right now but hey I will take what I can get.  I eagerly await my next injection of saline. Even if its not a real boob, its mine. Self esteem coming in many forms these days. A pretty dress to be worn this week and problem solving how to even my chest out is in the works. It has to come from inside me, its always been like that. My energy buoyed with self acceptance

I am happy to say we are starting to get some interest in mine and Malin's idea of taking portraits of women with breast cancer. I glad to know that there are more women ready to share their joy and pain. There are women already showing courage through pictures here in Newfoundland,  and we hope we can get more Newfoundland women to do the same. For me it was a sense of acceptance and healing. The gifts can be bountiful when art and emotion come together. A story told, no words spoken. If you know anyone please let me know.

I just want to thank everyone for continuing to read my blog...you have no idea the impact.

And could you keep your heart in wonder at the daily miracles of your life, your pain would not seem less wondrous than your joy.
Kahlil Gibran

Remember to recycle

"I enjoy convalescence. It is the part that makes illness worthwhile."

George Benard Shaw

Well three weeks have gone by since I last posted.  I feel a little wiser, a little humbler, a little changed, and completely grateful. I am also a little blonder. Don't ask just tell me I look great. Midlife crisis comes in all forms, at least I didn't buy a car.

The day of my surgery came with less drama than the previous one. No migraine to distract or the feeling of loss of control with my initial diagnosis. I asked for this, I never asked for cancer. Now of course I am scared to death, but it was like choosing to walk through the haunted house and not being pushed. ( I like to be seasonal with my analogies). My fears were lessened with the nothing less than superb care I received from the surgical and recovery team at the Health Science Hospital. Doctors and nurses coming in to see me and get me ready, bringing a sense of calm and trust that was quite remarkable. I can't ever thank them enough for that. I was in good hands and I knew it. I wasn't sure exactly how I would look coming out as the surgeon wasn't completely sure himself if he would be giving me a implant or expander on my new mastectomy side. I was good with whatever at this point. My biggest concern was the fact they wanted me to take my underwear off. I did as instructed but like a completely obsessed person I kept looking at my husband and saying " wish I could wear my underwear" over and over again. A new nurse comes in and I try and see if I can figure out a way to get my drawers back on. Nope they gotta stay off. I know I wore them for my first mastectomy. Geez! Hmmm.... then they put the lovely white compression stockings on me from heel to hip. Well now. No underwear and these long stockings. Somehow it just felt wrong. I had not taken this part into account so no preliminary waxing you know, " down around". You know how they say if you cut the grass it will grow faster, well if your hair falls out and grows back its like a chia pet. Just saying...Anyways I knew I had to let it go. They brought me to the operating room and fussed, poked and talked to me to keep me calm. The mask went over my face, I panicked. I felt like I couldn't breath. The nurse sees this, and lightens her grip. I look up and say through the mask " thank you". She looks down. Good she hears me. She says " your welcome" and its night night Sondria.....I am theirs.....

I awake several hours later to find I have new breast on my left and expander now in my chest on the right. Still lopsided but on my way to getting back to something. I can't say getting back to the old me as that person doesn't exist anymore. The essence of me will always be here, but the new chick with cancer is part of me now as well. I have landed myself the most wonderful recovery nurse. She fusses and checks and asks how I am. The two new formed mounds on my chest are on "FIRE". She gives me doses of this and that, not working really. I am trying to evaluate my pain level and it seems to be maintaining at "OMG this friggin hurts". I find myself crying, and sobbing. Overwhelmed I believed its called. I find out later that this gets me my first ever Ativan. I seemed to be so much more coherent, and with it, last surgery. She works hard to get me settled and calm. I finally get to see my husband around 6 o'clock. I am completely full of painkillers while my husband sits for several hours. I can really only remember reaching over and touching his hand and saying " I love you Patrick" over and over again. I meant every word even if I was high as a kite. He is a man of few words so he sits quietly as I bob and weave out of being awake.
The nurse assures us we will be there in recovery for the night, but at around 10:30 pm beds are found for all three of us who are left there. I am going to cardiology.  I hear someone say as they wheel me on the ward "sure you can eat of the floors on this ward its so clean". My luck is holding out. Again I am placed with a attentive and kind nurse who chats with me and makes me feel completely cared for.  Pillows fixed, water when needed not a bad place at all.

The next day it seems the consensus is to go home.  I was happy to stay and be a sick patient in a hospital bed,  it seemed appealing.  Again the faces of my ever enduring friends are there and ready to transfer me home. The last three weeks have finally brought me to a place where I knew I needed to stop completely. This was partly by choice and mostly due to pain and discomfort. As this journey has gone, with every negative there are more positives. I reconnected with old friends, got food cooked with love, and if after that I don't know that I am loved then I need to get a grip. I am once again humbled at my breast cancer support group as the women talk about their cancer journey's and I am reminded to be grateful. I get out of my own way as I see an old school friend deal with her 17 year olds' diagnosis of cancer and watch as they send out positive energy while their hearts are breaking. I call a dear old friend who is just finished her third round of chemo for breast cancer.  A dedication from a niece for a fundraiser for breast cancer. Sometimes I just have to remind myself to ask people " are you okay today" so that the positive vibes I receive are recycled and given back.

As I am finishing writing this blog, my thoughts that  I am writing down turn into reality. I receive an email from a friend. It contained a poem from a woman  I am getting to know who just thought I might like to read it and that it might mean something to me. It does. Now I am sharing with you. Thank you Joanie.

Love after Love

The time will come

When, with elation,

You will greet yourself arriving

At your own door, in your own mirror,

And each will smile at the others welcome,

And say, sit here. Eat.

You will love again the stranger who was yourself.

Give wine. Give bread. Give back your heart

To itself, to the stranger who has loved you

All your life, whom you ignored

For another, who knows you by heart.

Take down the love letters from the bookshelf,

The photographs, the desperate notes,

Peel your own image from the mirror.

Sit. Feast on your life.

Derek Walcott

Invisible

“Would you tell me, please, which way I ought to go from here?"
"That depends a good deal on where you want to get to."
"I don't much care where –"
"Then it doesn't matter which way you go.” 
― Lewis Carroll, Alice in Wonderland

So I went to the beach!

After six months of surgery and treatments it was time to go away from it all. A temporary respite from what can only be explained as a pain in my ass existence at times. Tired of complaining and with my family needing a break from my diagnosis a collective decision was made to head south. I hoped for a place where the breeze from the sea would cool my core and let me forget that I awake as a 90 year old daily. I could forget, for now anyways. All due respect to reality.

I was still awaiting confirmation on my impending surgery. I left with no confirmed date and a resumption of my ongoing cancer medication.

A trip to the beach for a one boob wonder is interesting. Things to consider and think about. I had always wore bikini's and was determined to be in one this trip. With one water prosthesis and some mcgivering of a few swimsuits, I thought I could pull it off. Anything is possible right? Smoke and mirrors had become my speciality these last few months. What really was important for me was to be somewhere that gave my family a chance to just be. Life is constant, good and bad.
I always do well in the heat and sand. Healing to the body and soul for me. No worries about cooking, cleaning, laundry for one whole week. With the surgery in the back of my mind, I let it stay there resigned to just being in the moment.

I think one of the biggest gifts was that no one knew I had cancer.  I felt invisible, but in a good way. My newly filled in scalp went unnoticed. Nobody cared that I only had a fine layer of hair, although to a former bald girl I could of been Farrah Fawcett. Hair is hair when you go bald to get well. Not one eye batted when comparing my current self to my passport photo, although the security guard upon leaving asked if I cut it. I thought I would explain to him what happened and realised he did not speak english and had used hand signals to ask me. What was this need to tell everyone I have cancer. I think if I say it over and over again the reality might actually sink in.

Several days of sleep, eating, and sun begins to put you in a different frame of mind. Then I get the call. A beckon back to my reality. A message from the surgeons office in the middle of my paradise. I was happy to receive the call but the stark contrast to  my beach bubble was very real. I accepted a surgical date for a week after my return home, this would give me time to prepare or run away not sure which one I would chose. I stopped the cancer meds again. I felt relieved to finally know. I could go back to enjoying each second with my family.

I felt I needed to bucket list a little on this trip. So I para-sailed with my daughter, at which time I cried as I floated over the beautiful ocean and beach. Terrified that after everything I did this last six months to live, this would be how I die...my daughter just wanted me to get a grip ( insert eye roll).. I reminded her that I did it and I conquered my fear. I am afraid of everything these days, my challenge seems to be to overcome my fears. I like to give cancer the reverence it deserves and its ability to take away precious time, I am mindful how I spend mine these days. We went on a helicopter ride over the area and although I was scared to death I desperately tried to stay in the moment so that I could appreciate the beauty of where I was. I  got to laugh a great deal on my trip, from having a seaweed fight in the ocean ( parents vs child) to laughing as my daughter had a hand held fan removed from hair by one of the waiters
( dont' ask).

As I sit here writing, I know tomorrow is my surgery. I know I will be changed. My body asked to morph once again so that I may have a sense of taking control of my life. Getting back to where I think I need to be for me. Although I can change my outer person, it is the moments like my trip with my family that make me who I am and fill my soul...

" The Doorway"

 The beauty of a woman must be seen from in her eyes, because that is the doorway to her heart, the place where love resides. 

                                                                Audrey Hepburn


As a woman I am sure you never imagine you will utter the words " I miss my breast", but I do very much. The months following the surgery and cancer treatments you are caught up in the world wind that now is your life. When the treatments stop and you slow down you are left with the reality of what now is your body, your new existence. Words like self acceptance, sexuality, femininity all encompassing as you grapple with moving on and living your life in the wake of your experience.

I remember the day I had my follow-up with the surgeon who performed my mastectomy. He said to me as we finished up " we will be watching that other breast". I left that appointment with an uneasy feeling. My remaining breast had actually been the one to give me all the grief in the past couple of years. Gifting me with mastitis infections and big bouncy cysts, but in the end it was my right side that had the cancer. I always thought that was weird but this gave me an opportunity to think about things.
On my second last appointment with my oncologist I had asked her what she thought about my remaining side. She stated that I had a low chance of reoccurrence but agreed I had a complicated boob. I also had cancer that did not grow in the standard lump and the last bout hid behind and around my cysts. Sneaky bugger.  I don't qualify for yearly MRI's. My cancer could not be seen on mammogram. She referred me to a surgical oncologist.
My thinking going into this whole thing was " I wanted a new boob" that was a given for me. I did however want to discuss whether I should be thinking about my other breast. I knew my chance of reoccurrence was low in my remaining boob, in actual fact I have a higher chance of getting cancer again on the already removed side. I did know that I had an aggressive cancer. I did know I had more than one type of cancer initially. Does that put me at higher risk? My life a matter of percentages and statistics now. The surgeon was open and direct with me and understanding to my fears. In the end it would be my decision to remove my other breast but based on my history and current lumpy conditions the doctor concurred that it was reasonable. He spoke to me about a certain technique they could perform that would help keep my breast looking somewhat like it currently is.
I did not go into the meeting with the surgeon thinking " cut it off ". I really had no choice the first time I lost a part of my body. This time I do. Its not really just about that though. Its about the rest of your life. How you want to live it and worrying about how long that life will be. Whats best for me? In the end, as you sit alone, you need to be okay with your life and decisions you make. This was a big one.
I thought about things for the next couple of days. I think I already knew though what I was going to do. It just seemed like the right decision. I met with the plastic surgeon and discussed moving forward with the surgery to reconstruct and shared with him that I met with the surgical oncologist. He agreed to performing a nipple sparing mastectomy on my left side with the other surgeon as well as beginning the process of rebuilding my right breast. I signed the papers. Now I wait for a date.
I feel pretty good about my decision. Somehow seems exactly right for me. I have no illusions of what I will look like down the road when its all said and done. I don't look like me anymore anyways, my new body powerful at every glance I take.

You adapt and move on but you are forever changed.