Tag Archives: cancer

Forget January, Bring On February!

If you haven’t seen this picture circulating around the internet yet, here it is:

At first, I laughed about it, but then the more I thought about it, the more I felt it’s totally true for me. January felt like an entire YEAR rolled into a single month. What’s up with that?!?

January was rough with waiting for my melanoma to be removed. It’s hard waiting for treatment for weeks after a cancer diagnosis knowing there’s nothing I could be doing to stop its growth. Except for surgery. Thank goodness only surgery was required to treat it, because stopping all normal activities for two weeks was definitely difficult.

Not being able to pick up and hold my 2 and a half year old, who is a supremely cuddly little, was torture for both of us. He quickly figured out I couldn’t keep up with him so he threw down some of his most epic flops and temper tantrums to date. The worst occurred at the library where he sprinted away while I was checking out books, climbed the stairs and almost made it inside an elevator to head downstairs that way. That kid is FAST! And I can usually hang but not this January.

I also couldn’t work out beyond walking at a leisurely pace. If you know me, you know that drove me bonkers! I’m at the gym 5-6 days a week normally taking various classes for my mental health. It helps decrease my anxiety and is my time to not focus on anything else in my life but myself (and mostly my breathing, because dang I take some challenging classes!) And walking at a 20-minute mike pace could not compete.

But January is over and done with, thank God!

My surgery went better than I imagined (because of course my brain occasionally went to worst possible scenario of extreme pain, permanent disfigurement, and/or death). Although exhaustion took over post-surgery thanks to the anesthesia, I never really had pain. My scar looks great so far, especially because it’s only been 3 weeks. My melanoma genetic testing came back in the lowest possible category, and my two basal cells have been removed.

I’m cancer-free! We’re settling back into our regular routines. February is looking lovely with Bad Kid Christmas only 2 weeks away!! And I’m working on my five-year plan, trying to figure out my place in this world. Everything’s coming up Sunshine, and I’m ready for it!

On Kindred Spirits and People Who Give a Shit

If you’ve been friends with me for a good length of time, you probably know of my love of Anne of Green Gables, by Lucy Maud Montgomery. I discovered her series when I was in elementary school, and subsequently found the gorgeous Canadian miniseries of the same name at our local Albertson’s where VHS rentals were 99 cents on Wednesdays. I spent good portions of my childhood renting and rewatching the movie (and its sequel) until I knew it by heart. I desperately wanted to be Anne, and create adventures with my own bosom friends. And I did.

I also went through a period of time when I didn’t feel like anyone I met was a kindred spirit; I had friendships, but no shared connection of acceptance of self. Maybe because I didn’t know who I was becoming. Maybe because girls are jerks to each other when they want to be thought of as cool. Maybe because my best friend had moved away. I don’t know.

Today, I have a couple handfuls of friends who are my people, my kindred spirits. You know, the people who rejoice in your joys and cry with you in your sorrows. Friends who fly down to spend the weekend with you before surgery so you will be distracted from obsessively thinking about it and friends who use their day off to help with your kids when you can’t easily handle your normal routine. Friends who offer and bring meals. Friends who give epic hugs. Friends who call to catch up because they can’t be here in person (although I wish they could) and I sometimes don’t pick up the phone because I hate it but I listen to their voicemail over and over and feel loved. I feel so very loved.

It’s just as Anne taught me – kindred spirits exist in droves; even when we are far apart, we are still together, and that hasn’t changed and won’t change over time.

  • “Kindred spirits are not so scarce as I used to think. It’s splendid to find out there are so many of them in the world.”
  • “True friends are always together in spirit.”
  • “Kindred spirits alone do not change with the changing years.”

Then there’s whole other group of awesome people who have been impactful in supporting me, and I’m affectionately referring to them as people who give a shit. Please don’t be offended by my cursing or by not including you in my kindred spirit category, but I’m so thankful for you, too. You all unexpectedly showed up and have kept showing up and checking in with me.

On social media we seem further apart yet more aware of the inner workings of each other’s lives. We tend not to have conversations in person because texting or messaging is so easily available, or we just read up on someone’s life via their Facebook page and count that as checking in. That’s not what you all have done.

You are sending prayers, good vibes, positive thoughts – whatever faith you practice or don’t practice doesn’t matter – your affirmations and solidarity lift me up.

Some of you are cancer survivors, and I had no idea. Thank you for telling me about you. Your shared stories fill me with hope that the cancer will stay gone now that it has been removed.

What I’m trying to say is thank you family, friends, and everyone who has shown up. I’m feeling much better and more at peace with the whole thing (despite being swollen, tired, and in some pain), and that’s because of you. Thank you.

Merry Christmas! I’m Totally (Not Really) Fine!

Today is the shortest day of the year and the longest night. So I thought it would be fitting to write a blog post that is all over the place and full of my rambling feelings. Because nothing says Merry Christmas like being in an emotionally precarious state when you have to keep it together so your family can have the best Christmas ever! Isn’t that how parents feel about Christmas every year? Matt Damon and the cast of SNL seem to agree.

Something I didn’t include in our Christmas cards this year even though it’s pretty significant change to our lives is that just after Thanksgiving I found out I have melanoma. Merry Christmas! I have cancer! It puts a damper on people’s holiday cheer so I left it out. Even though I can’t stop thinking about it.

I have cancer.

Skin cancer. And I’m only 36.

I’m angry. And terrified. And upset. I’m short with my kids who don’t know what’s going on with me. I cry at nothing. And then pretend I’m fine.

I’m fine.

I’m fine.

I’m fine.

Maybe if I say it enough times I’ll trick myself into actually being okay. Sometimes I actually feel mostly fine. And I’m not even faking.

Just kidding. I’m not fucking okay. Thanks for asking.

I’ve continued my normal routines like a boss. I’ve gone though various events and fun times this holiday season, and had fun. Really. I promise I did. I can compartmentalize and ignore the voice in my head shouting “I HAVE CANCER” without ruining everyone’s party. I’m fine. I’m drained. I feel loved.

I feel so very loved. Really, I have the best family and friends. I could go into their amazingness in excruciating detail, but it would get embarrassing…that’s how awesome my people are. I’m keeping their love and support to myself because I need it all. Sorry not sorry.

Meeting with the plastic surgeon definitely helped me feel more at ease with the situation. My melanoma was caught early and should be easily removed. It is on my hairline so it’s in the best possible spot for removal with minimal scarring. It will be like a mini-face lift on one side.

I feel extremely fortunate that my cancer can be cut out and that its removal should be the end of the cancer in my body. I won’t have to have chemo or radiation or anything like that. But part of me is terrified it will return. Because I’m more likely to have another one now that I’ve had one already.

I’m especially scared because my FIL has been dealing with melanoma for 9 years now. I’ve seen him cut up again and again, watched him deal with experimental therapies that harmed his body as much as they helped, and observed him not being himself as he received treatments.

January 10th I say peace out to my melanoma. I hope and pray it’s for good. Although if for some reason it’s not, I’m going to fight. Besides, if the Notorious RBG can come out swinging against Round 3 of cancer, I can certainly do likewise (although I can only hope to match her intense exercise regimen).