Number one with a bullet is the hormone issue. My cancer is estrogen-receptor-positive, so I had to stop taking hormones and I was thrust into menopause. It's hard to tell if any irritability I show these days is hormone-related or just due to being furious that I have cancer. But the worst part is the Asshole Hot Flashes (which shall henceforth be called AHF).
I've started carrying a hand fan with me. I have this pretty one that I got a few years ago in Japan (and by Japan I mean Epcot). I also have a leopard print one on order for variety.
I posted a few weeks ago about the Chillow and I really like it, but I ended up buying a different cooling pillow called the Gel'O Cool Mat. It's more expensive but it stays put better for me and doesn't get all smooshed up.
I'm the kind of person who loves to curl up on the couch under a blanket. I don't do that anymore (the blanket part, of course) because I get too damn hot. And that pisses me off.
|I'd love to be able to think of them this way, but I'm not there.|
Moving off of the AHF topic...
In the above picture you might notice that while my nails are "done," they're sans color. That's because the surgeons and hospital staff need to be able to see my nail beds. I rarely have no color on my nails so it's kind of driving me nuts.
I get regular massages, usually once a month, and I have no idea when I might be able to get them again. Fucking cancer.
I've been told that I won't be able to lift my arms over my head for a while, so it's been recommended to buy button-front tops. People, I have DD boobs (for now). I don't OWN button-front tops. And of course because of the AHF, I don't want sleeves. So I was forced to go shopping, and while I generally love me some retail therapy, I resent having to buy things that I wouldn't normally buy.
|I found some at Old Navy. This is one of them.|
I know I'm not alone in this, but I generally don't answer phone calls that come through as "Unknown" or whose number I don't recognize. Since being diagnosed I can't do that anymore. I'm forced to answer all the phone calls because it's probably a doctor's office or hospital or some kind of bullshit that if I don't answer it will be nearly impossible to get in touch with someone if I call back.
Our nephew Jeremy is graduating from high school this Friday. Because of my surgery, we can't go. Just another reason to hate cancer.
Here's something that doesn't suck: the amazing support system that I have. From childhood friends to sorority sisters to friends from multiple choirs to neighbors and blog friends... I could go on and on. Thank you all! Last Tuesday I went to karaoke and most of the bar was filled with friends and neighbors. I had made a special request for a song to sing and Kevin came through. If you watch Nashville you've heard this song sung by Hayden Panettiere. Her character first sang it as a fuck you to her record label but I thought it was appropriate for me right now, too.
To use a phrase coined by my friend Dru, I'm in it to Gwen it.
Not sure when I'll be back on the blog, and I may not answer comments right away but know that I feel all the love and support and I thank you again.