The first few days after the diagnosis of breast cancer, I was angry and terrified and sad. I went from thinking about dying to thinking about my first and worst fear, puking. We all see things differently and hey, throwing up is not my thing.
After talking to my doctor yesterday, I was almost giddy. He is so calm and reassuring and conveyed the sense that he was going to help me through this. It was liberating. I don't have to deal with alone! Here was this strong, handsome, professional man who is going to cut me up and put me back together. I felt great!
Today, I feel like I have been unleashed, let out of the cage. I have plans and lists to make. I'm not going to sit around all weepy and shit.
I read the most inspiring blog this morning, sent to me by a long-distance friend, Di Keller. I said I was ready to talk about "support" but this blog is amazing.
Back to the support thing for a minute. I wasn't ready for support, or to talk to most people, because it felt like that would make it too real. That would be like signing up for the club of which I did not want to be a member. I don't want to know about carcinoma, sentinel nodes, or estrogen receptors. Well, you know what? Whether I want to or not, here I am.
Ann Marie's blog, Stupid Dumb Breast Cancer, is raw. She posted pictures of herself after a double mastectomy. She uses the F bomb liberally and she wears pink stiletto heels...in the hospital.
This is another powerful blog by a strong woman. Here's a warning, though. This one does not end happily and the pictures, again, are stunning. I'm drawn more to blogs than medical sites.
They told me to bring comfortable clothes and slippers to the hospital but I think I'll wear my ass kickin' boots and some sparkle. I'm not even sure I own what they might consider comfortable clothes. Oh, yeah...I have some sweat pants but ugh, not in public. Gross.
Eff cancer. Yes...in all it's many putrid forms.