Well, what did you expect me to call this page? “The Inspirational Journey of the Perky Pink Warrior as She Kicks Cancer’s Fat Fanny”? I can’t even type that with a straight face. For those who don’t know, I was diagnosed with ductal carcinoma in situ on 12/9/10. That’s “early stage breast cancer.” And although it is fairly extensive and described as “high grade” or “aggressive,” that also means it hasn’t spread. I will be having surgery to remove the cancer, and hopefully to effect a full “cure,” on 1/25/11. Friends are starting a pool as to the exact date and time I will be online posting a status update, and making side bets on whether my incredible powers of persuasion will enable me to convince the ICU nurses that the mental health benefits of blogging and facebook outweigh the risks of wireless screwing up the telemetry equipment. Don’t expect to hear anything, though, until at least 1/26 – the operation is expected to take up to 14-16 hours and I plan to be sound asleep for the duration.
The “Protected:” posts on this blog are hidden behind a password; that’s really only to spare the casual reader from stumbling across them unexpectedly. They are personal and no doubt will occasionally (often) contain TMI (too much information). If you are needlephobic, you may wish to avoid them as they may (will almost certainly) be “triggering.” (I kind of wished to avoid some of the procedures, myself, but it wasn’t an option – and I’m the first to admit that misery loves miserable company, so there you go.) If you are an insensitive boob who laughs at others’ irrational fears, go away now. If you are here because you were Googling “inspirational journeys of breast cancer survivors,” you’ve probably landed in the wrong place. I strongly suggest you avoid skydiving. <shudder>
The password is not intended to exclude family or friends, nor am I secretly hiding the magic formula for making big bucks online. Just to prove it, here it is for free: There isn’t one. Get a job!
If you have the password already, this is the “table of contents” for easy reference.
A Post Full of Touchy-Feely Crap
11 Reasons Why Today Was Wonderful
On the Importance of Doctor-Patient Relationships
It’s Been a Week, and It’s Only Wednesday
Where’s Mr. DeMille when You Need Him?
Under Penalty of Law, Do Not Remove!
Learning to Be Sweetly Passive Aggressive
You Have GOT to be KIDDING Me!!!
I Don’t THINK His Hand is Actually BROKEN
Plicated and Pulled Like a Window Shade
Damn You, Alien Coffee Stirrer People!
Things They Really Ought to Mention Beforehand
Legend of the Alien Coffee Stirrers
Eve to Adam: “I Was Just Borrowing the Rib, Baby, Honest.”
If you would like the password, here it is, below, for human eyes only:
Someone said, “I’m not sure if it’s appropriate to laugh, but I’m laughing.” Yeah, it is appropriate. If you’re not laughing, I’m doing a lousy job of writing. Trust me, laughing is not only appropriate – it’s the best medicine. Crying only adds insult to injury by giving you the most hellacious stuffy nose!
Someone asked me if anyone had been this honest, straightforward, and detailed with me about any part of this experience before I went through it. The answer is “no.” I learned a lot by searching Google, and pieced bits and pieces together through blogs, videos, forums, and my own impressions. But I think that’s due to a lot of things, none of which include the desire to keep secrets:
- For many people, too much knowledge equals anxiety, worry, sleepless nights, and undue stress. These are the folks who can just “look away” from the unpleasantness of a hypodermic needle – the folks who don’t need to watch it carefully in order to keep it in its box. I think most people know how they react to too much information, or whether they tend to go brain-dead when given just enough.
- For many medical professionals, it’s a tightrope act. I suspect they run into more people who want just the basic facts, not the excruciating detail. And some of us who need the detail simply don’t know what we don’t know, so it never occurs to us to ASK. I’m thankful for my friend Doc Z., my surgeons Dr. S. and Dr. K., and my nurse, C., for being willing to openly answer questions and not say things like, “You don’t want to know that” or “you really shouldn’t get your info from the Internet.”
- For many people, it’s too personal. There’s no one they feel comfortable asking, and they may be intimidated by their medical team. I cannot imagine going through this experience alone, with no one to talk and joke with. If you’ve somehow stumbled on this page, feeling this way, email me.
- I’ve been open and honest, but I cannot bring myself to lay it all out there on YouTube the way some women can. I am deeply grateful, though, for their courage and their openness and their generosity in sharing their experiences, their tips, their insights, their photos, and their videos. It has helped.
Now, you can also help to keep others from going through all this. Will you join me?
Coincidentally, there’s also about two weeks left till Relay for Life. Please read this whole section carefully and watch the short videos I’ve embedded here.
I’m at 18% of my fundraising goal for 2012, and I’d really like your help in overshooting the mark. I’m looking for donors or sponsors (will write for donations – it’s negotiable). Please, watch this next video – it’s a bit old (it was made by someone else to raise funds for Relay last year), but the first 3 minutes and 20 seconds apply every year, all the time:
How to donate? Easy! Click here:
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