I always tell my children... If you go in with a bad attitude, you will end with a bad attitude — nothing like eating my words right about now.

So. . .let the fun begin?

Can I say that?

Honestly, between you and me-THIS is the part of my cancer journey that I WANT to find a detour sign.  SIKE, TURN AROUND, LADY!  WE WERE JOKING.  I'm looking for it, can't find it.  I now am facing my greatest dread, fear, sucky of the suckiest....Chemo.

Yes, I need Chemo. 

Let me lay out my journey in layman's term. (insert Sound of Music) Let's start at the very beginning.  A very good place to start...Humor me and laugh.

1.  Mamogram (please, please get the ladies checked)

2.  Biopsy - they found something

3.  Official confirmation on cancer

4.  See breast specialist.  Dr. Cannavan.  She oozes with awesomeness.  (I secretly think she drives around DFW on a Harley saving all women from cancer.)

5.  Gave me options on what needs to happen.  GENETICS TEST executed.  Can't do anything until the results come back.  Surgery is scheduled but changed with given results.  So much waiting during this time.  Torturous waiting that enables me to process at the same time.

6.  It's official; the genes are against me.

7.  Bilateral Mastectomy - with expanders inserted

8.  Recover amazingly well

9.  Boobs are getting pumped up.  Such a weird concept.

10. My very aggressive cancer, further research.  There is a 30% chance that this cancer might come back in another part of my body in the next 5 years.  

SHUT THE FRONT DOOR!  

Just when I am starting to feel myself. Beginning to do yoga, because that is all they will let me do — moving forward.  I felt as if I was suddenly hit with a Mack truck.  Darn you Mack truck!  Read on; I don't have to do Chemo.  Really.  It is my choice.  It is always my choice.  Given the info and my young'ist' age of 42, I have LOTS of living to do.  I have LOTS of things still yet to see.  So I am choosing to do the Chemo.  Chemo will find all those tiny, tiny, minuscule cancer cells that are still floating around in my body looking for friends to team up and make a big ol' cancer again.  Ugh.  I am trying hard not to have a bad attitude.  TRYING!  I decided to talk to a pro about this again.   Cancer is such a mental battle as well as physical. (pro mental health!)

Chemo will come in 2 stages.  The first will be the rough stuff.  Four rounds every two weeks.  It will last for two months.  I will lose my hair.  OK with the hair loss.  I will rock bald!  It will not be forever. It is only a moment in my timeline of life.  I am not sure if my kids will be ok.  Little P, seems to be the most ok with it.  She is trying to convince me that  I should get my bald head henna'd.  She is young.  She is youthfully supportive.  She says I am doing awesome all the time.  Little P is my cheerleader.  Teen O, well, she is reacting in ways I was not ready.  Typically, Teen O lives life to the beat of her own drum.  I have always admired that about her.  It also drives me insane.  She is unapologetically a nerd.  She is not afraid to inform the most random stranger how British History (or any history) relates to the daily going 'on's' of the world.  Teen O also can tell you how words are rooted in Greek mythology or any other mythology, which makes her responses to my chemo treatment as shocking.  She entirely shut down.  My once 'never shut her mouth' teen was now the teen that did not want to talk about it.  WHAT?!?!  

Jacob and I did not know how to handle this NOR was our emotional mental space ready to receive more dealings.  We opted to send her to a child pro. (child psychologist that deals with kids and the way they cope with parents diagnosis)  She was not a happy camper but went.  Come to find out.  She shut down due to the topic. She was not having knowledge in it.  It didn't help that we didn't know the answers to her VERY SPECIFIC questions.  When we went to our appointment, she asked if she could see the Chemo room.  When we arrived, a nurse took the time to show her EVERY SINGLE step and item that a patient would encounter when receiving chemo.  So there you go.  Maybe this journey I am on will spark her interest in FINDING A CURE for it.  Or, perhaps becoming more passionate about science, as that is the way she wants to go.  Oh, sweet Lord, yes!

I am not going to lie.  I am scared.  Not scared to get Chemo (ok, maybe) or lose my hair.  I am afraid for my kids.  I don't want the unwelcoming stares to me, bothering them.  So this is my public service announcement - DONT STARE!  Say hello to me.  Smile at me.  Tell me I am rocking it.  An act of kindness...anything.  Those actions will not only make me happy but help two young ladies deal better.      

Jacob - my love and my rock - has just been such an anchor.  I think of a relay team.  They are the most reliable on the team.  After everyone on the team has tried their best, the anchor comes in and closes the deal.  From a sailing perspective, an anchor helps the ship (us) stay stable and not let the winds take us.    He has been there for me emotionally...I mean...I have had severe emotional cries during this process.  He has dealt with the ongoing emotions in this very hormonal house.  You would think we could all cry at the same time, but no.  Ever female in this house needs to let the emotions of this journey out at different times.  His calm and his ear is always present.  In our endeavor to maintain normalcy as much as possible, he is the one that has anchored us there.  Forever grateful.

xoxo