The Glass is Half-Full

Song lyrics or titles run through my mind to often sum up a situation or add humor to one. Today, it's "Don't Cry for Me Argentina". Only today the title is "Don't cry for me anybody"! I mean, I get it, that people feel bad that I've got breast cancer and that I've been living with MS for nearly 27 years. And I've had other issues that I've blogged about related to #metoo. I get that it seems like a lot looking in from the outside. I hear your comments and appreciate your support. But here's the thing, it doesn't feel overwhelming to me, looking out from the inside. Know what I mean? I live the life that I've been dealt and do it with the personality and faith I've been given. Which means, I could do one of the following: A. Have a miserable, pity-me attitude that would lead to being  miserable; B. Lean into my troubles and seek answers constantly either through research or angrily with God, which would lea

I was ready. I was prepared. The potential side-effect list was long and one I'd had some familiarity when John went through his treatment.  So I gathered my arsenal. I had my compazine, zofran and antivan. I had my ginger chewables and chicken noodle soup. I was armed and potentially dangerous. So, chemo day with the toxic chemo cocktail starting to do it's job, I envisioned it as either PacMan, eating away at the cancer cells or a Chia Pet, allowing my good cells to thrive. With these visions, (that aren't quite Christmas Eve sugar plums dancing) and tired from the chemo, I went to bed early. Friday, under the watchful eye of my caregiving hubby, I slept most of the day away. Not really hungry but not nauseous either. I spent the majority of the day horizontal on the couch listening to my book on Audible (despite the sleep timer, I probably missed 1/3 of what I 'read'), dozing, answering calls and texts, and snacking.  Perhaps the highlight of the

Slam Dunk! I 'm driving yesterday to my first chemo, ready to get it started, when I get a call from my nurse at the Cancer & Hematology. After pleasantries, she said: "So, I was reading through your chart and saw that Dr. Lynch wanted your scans done before treatment began.So it looks like we need to delay it's start. Are you on your way here?" Okay, now it's your turn to guess which was the correct response: A.   "Well, Alecia, that scan was not approved by insurance until just a couple days ago partially because your office didn't follow up to get it approved. But we can wait, because the delay was out of the ordinary and I don't have an aggressive, fast growing cancer. Will next Thursday work better?" B. "WTF?? (for my kinder gentler readers that stands for Well That's Fine ) I'm three minutes out and we're getting this done today!! I'm not delaying because parties related to this treatment that a

Today is the first day of the rest of my life. Today is the day I begin, at last, treatment. Today is the day I begin to kick cancer's ass. Today is the day I start infusing ugly, nasty, side-affect laden, toxic chemicals for the greater good. Today is a day that I wish I could rewrite the script for completely deleting the part requiring me to need breast cancer chemo. And yet, here it is and at 1:15 EST I will be at the Cancer & Hematology Center in Holland. It's where I will be a lot for the next five months. It's where I will, I'm sure (and surety is something I have less of these days as I know not how I will respond to chemo), create new friendships and forge bonds with people that I am currently unfamiliar. Because that's who I am; a lover of people and a woman that wants to know and love on all the people she comes to meet.  I don't know why I have breast cancer but someday I will ask God (along with a whole bunch of other questions!). I do b

There it is, in black and white and on the Internet. So it must be true. I have a touch of cancer. (A tumor, 3 mm to be exact, in my left breast). I discovered the lump, when it was but a babe, maybe half the size, last August. I had had a mammogram scheduled but cancelled it. WHAT????? I can hear you all screaming at me now. You cancelled your mammogram after you found a lump? And you have two sisters and two aunts that have had breast cancer? WTF??? (for my kinder, gentler readers that WTF stands for Well That's Freaky). Yes, I cancelled the mammo because I had a trip of a lifetime planned for October with my handsome hubby of 30 years. And I did not want to: A. Possibly cancel the trip of a lifetime; B. Put a possible cloud of doom and gloom over Ireland while on our trip of a lifetime; C. Let my wonderful hubby of 30 years know about the lump because he would have worried and fretted and argued vehemently (He's an attorney after all) that the trip should be pos

While getting an MRI recently, I selected to listen to a classic rock station. Actually I requested a station that played 70s or 80s music and the tech asked if I wanted pop or rock. "Well, classic rock would probably be better since I have to hold still," I responded. "If I listened to pop, I'd want to be dancing." And so I laid perfectly still while listening (or kind of listening since really in an MRI you never really drown out the loud bangs, whirs and booms). And it came to pass that the song "Crazy Train" started playing and I started to silently and stillfully laugh to myself. What a strangely perfect song for this moment in my life. Ozzy Osbourne was singing my song (has anyone ever really said that ever before???)! "I'm going off the rails on a crazy train," he sings/screams. (and a bunch of other lyrics I didn't understand because well, I was in an MRI and he was kind of screaming) You see the reason was that the MR