For those of you who may not have seen this on my Facebook... I think the "My Cancer is Worse Than Your Cancer?" article is too great not to repost it. Click here to be taken to the article..
As anyone who comes here often knows, I am a sarcoma patient (liposarcoma).
For any of you who've ever wondered what causes this type of cancer and why it has such a high recurrence and mortality rate, this article explains it well. Simply put, it's such a rare cancer (1% of adult cancer diagnoses and 15% of children cancer diagnoses), that there isn't much funding to research it or find a cure.
I'm lucky, in that I have liposarcoma, which has the lowest mortality rate among sarcoma cancers. The young man in the video had osteosarcoma.
Some of you know that my doctors wanted to watch tumor #3 grow, so they could see what it would do. For many, that is a horrifying thought - to keep malignant a tumor inside a person, to monitor growth. For me, it was a chance to contribute something to the cause, to possibly help them understand what happens inside my body. Sadly, #3 didn't grow (and #4 snuck in while they weren't looking and needed immediate removal), so they couldn't learn much. But I would do it again, in a heartbeat.
I am grateful for any exposure that sarcoma can get. This article is incredibly well-written (by a survivor!), and the video is truly moving. If you have a few minutes, please take the time to sit down and read/watch this.
Life is precious.
And much like the author of the article, I am grateful that cancer has helped me learn how to truly LIVE mine.
Sunday, September 7, 2014
Friday, September 5, 2014
Cousin Christie's Lemon Poppy Seed Bread
As some of you may recall, my sweet little cousins, Elly and Cami, were the brainchildren behind a bake sale fundraiser that my Utah County family threw for me this summer.
Cousin Christie (aka: The Hardest Working Woman I Know) was called in at the 11th hour and asked if she could bake bread.
And bake bread, she did. Roughly five or six dozen loaves. In one day. (I told you. She's super-human!)
And, I'm here to tell you.. I've had multiple bake sale customers talk to me about her poppy seed bread.
By all accounts, the lemon poppy seed bread was joyous to the soul and desirable above all other breads. (Yeah, so I just threw a little scriptural reference in there. Because I believe in likening the scriptures in all things. ... And also because I really have heard AMAZING things about this bread. ... Oh, right. And because I crack myself right up when I talk like a Mormon.)
Anyhoo...
Like I said, the bread was, basically, "most sweet, above all that anyone had before tasted" and "the greatest of all the gifts..."
So I thought I'd post the recipe here. You know, for the folks who've asked who made that bread - and how. And also for my own self, because I can't seem to keep track of a single piece of paper around here. (But, somehow, I can pull a recipe up on my phone in a matter of seconds. ... God bless the labels section of ye olde blog, because it gives me almost immediate access to all kinds of gems. Yea, even those gems that are precious above all.)
That said... without further ado (and before I get myself struck with lightening), I give you...
Cousin Christie's Poppy Seed Bread
1 lemon or yellow boxed cake mix
1 (3 oz) pkg instant lemon pudding mix
4 eggs
1/2 cup vegetable oil
1 cup water
2 Tab poppy seeds
3 Tab flour
Throw it all in a bowl. Beat with mixer for 3 minutes. *Bake at 350 in 2 regular loaf pans or 1 bundt pan for 40-50 minutes, until toothpick comes out cleanly.
*Foot note: I'm assuming these are greased pans, because this is basically a cake. Her instructions didn't specify the greasing of the pan... but you know me. I'm never one to shy away from extra butter. Anywhere, or on anything. I'd butter those bad boys up before I poured the batter in!
And now that the recipe has been revealed, I suggest that ye hold fast to the ingredients as they have been handed down from the house of Ball. Listen not to those jeering from the great and spacious house of "clean eating". Be ye not afraid of processed foods, for the people of Duncan Hines and Betty Crocker and Jello are a blessing in our busy lives. And thus we see that, at times, we must depart from the ways of whole foods and partake of the boxed mixes, that we might find joy.
Now, go forth. Bake. Be joyous, and share the fruits of thine labors with those whom ye love.
Cousin Christie (aka: The Hardest Working Woman I Know) was called in at the 11th hour and asked if she could bake bread.
And bake bread, she did. Roughly five or six dozen loaves. In one day. (I told you. She's super-human!)
And, I'm here to tell you.. I've had multiple bake sale customers talk to me about her poppy seed bread.
By all accounts, the lemon poppy seed bread was joyous to the soul and desirable above all other breads. (Yeah, so I just threw a little scriptural reference in there. Because I believe in likening the scriptures in all things. ... And also because I really have heard AMAZING things about this bread. ... Oh, right. And because I crack myself right up when I talk like a Mormon.)
Anyhoo...
Like I said, the bread was, basically, "most sweet, above all that anyone had before tasted" and "the greatest of all the gifts..."
So I thought I'd post the recipe here. You know, for the folks who've asked who made that bread - and how. And also for my own self, because I can't seem to keep track of a single piece of paper around here. (But, somehow, I can pull a recipe up on my phone in a matter of seconds. ... God bless the labels section of ye olde blog, because it gives me almost immediate access to all kinds of gems. Yea, even those gems that are precious above all.)
That said... without further ado (and before I get myself struck with lightening), I give you...
Cousin Christie's Poppy Seed Bread
1 lemon or yellow boxed cake mix
1 (3 oz) pkg instant lemon pudding mix
4 eggs
1/2 cup vegetable oil
1 cup water
2 Tab poppy seeds
3 Tab flour
Throw it all in a bowl. Beat with mixer for 3 minutes. *Bake at 350 in 2 regular loaf pans or 1 bundt pan for 40-50 minutes, until toothpick comes out cleanly.
*Foot note: I'm assuming these are greased pans, because this is basically a cake. Her instructions didn't specify the greasing of the pan... but you know me. I'm never one to shy away from extra butter. Anywhere, or on anything. I'd butter those bad boys up before I poured the batter in!
And now that the recipe has been revealed, I suggest that ye hold fast to the ingredients as they have been handed down from the house of Ball. Listen not to those jeering from the great and spacious house of "clean eating". Be ye not afraid of processed foods, for the people of Duncan Hines and Betty Crocker and Jello are a blessing in our busy lives. And thus we see that, at times, we must depart from the ways of whole foods and partake of the boxed mixes, that we might find joy.
Now, go forth. Bake. Be joyous, and share the fruits of thine labors with those whom ye love.
Monday, September 1, 2014
My new favorite thing
One of the perks of my weirdie post-operative diet is that sometimes I discover new things that I love.
* That said, it is my understanding that the quality of the product in the half gallon container far exceeds the quality of the product in the single-serving containers. As in so many areas of life, the slogan "Go big or go home!" applies here.
Things like (drumroll, please)...
That's right. Chocolate almond milk.
Back in the days when my belly was anti-dairy, I saw the carton of Silk dark chocolate almond milk in the refrigerated dairy case in the WalMart and I thought "How bad can it be?"
Answer: Not bad. Not bad AT ALL.
I mean... I think I may love this stuff as much as I love BYU Creamery's chocolate milk. (Which is saying something. Because I'd marry BYU Creamery's chocolate milk. In the temple. Which is to say that I would commit to drinking this stuff for time and all eternity. And that's a lot of love.)
A few weeks into my recent addiction to chocolate almond milk, I saw the carton of Blue Diamond chocolate almond milk in the store and I thought I'd give that a shot. (I mean, I used to looooooove the Blue Diamond brand of roasted/smoked almonds that I would sneak out of my mom's underwear drawer when I was a kid. Blue Diamond KNOWS almonds. I know this. So, I figured it would be delish.)
Luckily, I still had a little Silk brand milk in ye olde refrigerator, so when I came home I was able to do a not-so blind taste test. (When a girl lives alone and she is the only one who can pour said milk into glasses, it's hard to be truly blind. But still, I made an effort to be exact and non-partial. ... Ya'll know how much I love science and try to be as accurate as possible in taste-test matters.)
And the survey says: While the Blue Diamond brand is not disgusting, the Silk brand kicks its trash.
So, fellow fans of chocolate milk, I've gotta say that *I fully endorse the Silk Dark Chocolate Almond Milk.
I am never without it these days. (Seriously. I have a half gallon in my fridge at home. I also have a half gallon in the fridge at the bank, labeled, so everyone knows it's mine.) And the carton says that this stuff has twice the calcium of regular milk. So, it's basically health food -- that tastes like chocolate. Win/win!
* That said, it is my understanding that the quality of the product in the half gallon container far exceeds the quality of the product in the single-serving containers. As in so many areas of life, the slogan "Go big or go home!" applies here.
Saturday, August 30, 2014
One month later
On July 30th, I wrote a status report. It's been a month, so I figured it was time to write one again.
So, here ya go...
I'm okay.
Seriously, I am.
I mean... I'm tireder than I'd like to be. But I still feel better than I have in recent months, so I'll take it.
I take two Tylenol PM every night between 7:00 and 8:00, and I go to bed (by which I mean: fall asleep on the couch, watching The West Wing) between and 8:00 and 9:00. Most mornings, I pound two more Tylenol as soon as I wake up (because everything inside of me shifts when I sleep on my side, and it hurts like the devil), but... that's it. I am no longer watching the clock to pop a couple pills every six hours. Really, I'm down to Tylenol twice a day most days. So, that's a win.
I can walk a whole mile now. Some days, even a mile and a half. (Depending on whether I want to walk for 30 or 45 minutes in the 100+ degree heat. ... Yes, it takes me half an hour to walk a mile. Don't judge!) This morning, was my seventh consecutive mile-or-more walk a day, and I cannot even tell you how happy it makes me that I'm able to walk - on the streets - again. I had to re-learn how to walk this time on a treadmill, and it was brutal. This has been the weirdest surgery recovery ever, in that I've struggled with nausea and other weirdie stomach issues... which made it harder to be physically active. Ten weeks later, I haven't felt like I was going to puke for a week. And I'm walking around the block again. Sans earbuds, holding only a bottle of water... I don't even take my phone with me, because I want to be able to see and hear everything out there. I love it!
I've had several people texting/calling/dropping by to ask what's new.
Uh... Nothing. "Nothing" is the answer to, "What's new?".
My guess is that people are looking for an update, because most cancer patients meet with their doctors more than every 60-90 days. (And, I'm pretty sure that my visits will increase in the semi-near future.) As of now, we're still on the wait-until-October-and-then-we'll-do-a-PET-to-see-what's-going-on-in-there plan. I don't actually have that scan scheduled yet, but I'm guessing that'll go on the books in the next week or two. Which means that I have another five or so weeks of blessed ignorance. (It's true, what they say: Ignorance IS bliss!)
So, I'll keep walking (albeit slowly) around the block, eating peanut M&M's like they're vitamins, and chain-watching TV (God bless whoever came up with the idea of Netflix streaming, for real!) as I ease myself back into working full time and living my life.
Life is good.
I may be slow - okay, let's be honest... I've been slower - but I am moving. My strength is constantly improving. I may not see it in the day to day, but I'm still seeing markers on a weekly basis of things I can do that I couldn't do the week before. I never cease to be amazed at what the human body can endure and recover from (and I think I have a sort of lame body... just imagine what some of YOUR bodies could do!). I'm tired, so I'm not blogging as much, or appearing in public as often, but I'm here. And I'm alright. I promise.
So, here ya go...
I'm okay.
Seriously, I am.
I mean... I'm tireder than I'd like to be. But I still feel better than I have in recent months, so I'll take it.
I take two Tylenol PM every night between 7:00 and 8:00, and I go to bed (by which I mean: fall asleep on the couch, watching The West Wing) between and 8:00 and 9:00. Most mornings, I pound two more Tylenol as soon as I wake up (because everything inside of me shifts when I sleep on my side, and it hurts like the devil), but... that's it. I am no longer watching the clock to pop a couple pills every six hours. Really, I'm down to Tylenol twice a day most days. So, that's a win.
I can walk a whole mile now. Some days, even a mile and a half. (Depending on whether I want to walk for 30 or 45 minutes in the 100+ degree heat. ... Yes, it takes me half an hour to walk a mile. Don't judge!) This morning, was my seventh consecutive mile-or-more walk a day, and I cannot even tell you how happy it makes me that I'm able to walk - on the streets - again. I had to re-learn how to walk this time on a treadmill, and it was brutal. This has been the weirdest surgery recovery ever, in that I've struggled with nausea and other weirdie stomach issues... which made it harder to be physically active. Ten weeks later, I haven't felt like I was going to puke for a week. And I'm walking around the block again. Sans earbuds, holding only a bottle of water... I don't even take my phone with me, because I want to be able to see and hear everything out there. I love it!
I've had several people texting/calling/dropping by to ask what's new.
Uh... Nothing. "Nothing" is the answer to, "What's new?".
My guess is that people are looking for an update, because most cancer patients meet with their doctors more than every 60-90 days. (And, I'm pretty sure that my visits will increase in the semi-near future.) As of now, we're still on the wait-until-October-and-then-we'll-do-a-PET-to-see-what's-going-on-in-there plan. I don't actually have that scan scheduled yet, but I'm guessing that'll go on the books in the next week or two. Which means that I have another five or so weeks of blessed ignorance. (It's true, what they say: Ignorance IS bliss!)
So, I'll keep walking (albeit slowly) around the block, eating peanut M&M's like they're vitamins, and chain-watching TV (God bless whoever came up with the idea of Netflix streaming, for real!) as I ease myself back into working full time and living my life.
Life is good.
I may be slow - okay, let's be honest... I've been slower - but I am moving. My strength is constantly improving. I may not see it in the day to day, but I'm still seeing markers on a weekly basis of things I can do that I couldn't do the week before. I never cease to be amazed at what the human body can endure and recover from (and I think I have a sort of lame body... just imagine what some of YOUR bodies could do!). I'm tired, so I'm not blogging as much, or appearing in public as often, but I'm here. And I'm alright. I promise.
Monday, August 25, 2014
I love to laugh... long, and loud, and clear!
As anyone who's known me for, like, half a second knows... I love to laugh.
Hard.
And loud.
And often.
And one of my favorite, surefire, guaranteed, laugh-until-my-face-hurts things to do is go to Jester'Z Improv. I mean, I seriously love that place! I'm a huge fan of improv comedy, period. But I especially enjoy Jester'Z, because I know that I can take anyone with me... my mom, friends from work, my nine year-old nephew... and they'll love it as much as I do. Jester'Z does a live, original, 90 minute show. Every time. And they never disappoint.
I have always loved the people at Jester'Z, but now? ... Now, I love them even more.
The good people of Jester'Z are doing a Cancer Girl Benefit show.
That's right. You heard me... I'M HAVING A JESTER'Z FUNDRAISER! ... And I'm so excited that I can hardly stand it!
The date is September 23rd (it's a Tuesday). The time is 6:30-8:00. The location is the new Jester'Z theater at 1061 N. Dobson Rd. #114, Mesa, Az.
It will, as always, be a 90 minute, original, show. The cost is $13 per ticket (Jester'Z standard ticket cost). And 100% of the proceeds will benefit yours truly.
We're working on gathering donations for a silent auction (if you have any goods or services you'd like to put up on the block, let me know!), and are hoping to put a table up in the lobby to sell baked goods before/after the show. (Maybe some candied bacon? Go ahead and twist my arm...)
Click here to be directed to the site where you can buy tickets to the show. Please note that you can buy tickets in any quantity, from the comfort of your home or office, computer or phone. (You know me. I like to make it as easy as I can for you all to help a girl out...) All you need is an internet connection and a debit card, and you can make all of my dreams come true AND get a good hour and a half of laughs in the deal. (Oh, and a cupcake. Or some cookies. Or both.)
As always, I have nothing but love for all 13 of my original readers, as well as you fabulous people who have been drug here to my (crazy) little corner of the www from the book of faces.
Thank you for having an interest in my life, in my health... in, well... me. I appreciate, more than I can say, the sense of community that the cancer has given me. I have the very best support system in all of the world, and I'm grateful for every thing that every single one of you does for me. Please consider this particular fundraiser my gift to you. (Usually, I just ask ya'll to give me dollars. This time, you're getting a heck of a show in exchange for your donation.) There is nothing I would love more than to fill the studio with people near and dear to my heart... to have you laugh with me, as you're helping me.
Hard.
And loud.
And often.
And one of my favorite, surefire, guaranteed, laugh-until-my-face-hurts things to do is go to Jester'Z Improv. I mean, I seriously love that place! I'm a huge fan of improv comedy, period. But I especially enjoy Jester'Z, because I know that I can take anyone with me... my mom, friends from work, my nine year-old nephew... and they'll love it as much as I do. Jester'Z does a live, original, 90 minute show. Every time. And they never disappoint.
I have always loved the people at Jester'Z, but now? ... Now, I love them even more.
The good people of Jester'Z are doing a Cancer Girl Benefit show.
That's right. You heard me... I'M HAVING A JESTER'Z FUNDRAISER! ... And I'm so excited that I can hardly stand it!
The date is September 23rd (it's a Tuesday). The time is 6:30-8:00. The location is the new Jester'Z theater at 1061 N. Dobson Rd. #114, Mesa, Az.
It will, as always, be a 90 minute, original, show. The cost is $13 per ticket (Jester'Z standard ticket cost). And 100% of the proceeds will benefit yours truly.
We're working on gathering donations for a silent auction (if you have any goods or services you'd like to put up on the block, let me know!), and are hoping to put a table up in the lobby to sell baked goods before/after the show. (Maybe some candied bacon? Go ahead and twist my arm...)
Click here to be directed to the site where you can buy tickets to the show. Please note that you can buy tickets in any quantity, from the comfort of your home or office, computer or phone. (You know me. I like to make it as easy as I can for you all to help a girl out...) All you need is an internet connection and a debit card, and you can make all of my dreams come true AND get a good hour and a half of laughs in the deal. (Oh, and a cupcake. Or some cookies. Or both.)
As always, I have nothing but love for all 13 of my original readers, as well as you fabulous people who have been drug here to my (crazy) little corner of the www from the book of faces.
Thank you for having an interest in my life, in my health... in, well... me. I appreciate, more than I can say, the sense of community that the cancer has given me. I have the very best support system in all of the world, and I'm grateful for every thing that every single one of you does for me. Please consider this particular fundraiser my gift to you. (Usually, I just ask ya'll to give me dollars. This time, you're getting a heck of a show in exchange for your donation.) There is nothing I would love more than to fill the studio with people near and dear to my heart... to have you laugh with me, as you're helping me.
Friday, August 22, 2014
In case you've ever wondered exactly how much I love the X-Men...
Here are some fun little stories about how jacked-up-crazy-town I get when I'm on pain meds.
Scene: Judy is bringing me in pain meds at 2:15 AM. I am asleep in my bed. Judy wakes me to take my pills, and I come to, saying...
"I was just dreaming about the X-Men. Like, I was one of them. My power? ... Not regeneration."
Ya like that, huh?
Well... here's another one from the day I came home from the hospital:
"Lindsay's trying to give me weight training lessons in my head. ... It's not working."
More, you say? You want more?! Okay, fine.
Talking about taking pain meds in the hospital, trying to decide whether to have drugs administered via IV or with pills:
"The IV... The ID... The IV... This is fun for you isn't it? Where's the candid camera?"
Okay, okay, okay... One more.
To Judy in the hospital, as I was waking up (from a drug-induced stupor/sleep... obviously):
"We're cellmates. Living in a paper manufacturing company. And the beeper means that an order is ready."
Isn't it great that Judy keeps a notebook of all my surgeries/dreams/hallucinations, so I can share these special moments with you?
You're welcome.
Scene: Judy is bringing me in pain meds at 2:15 AM. I am asleep in my bed. Judy wakes me to take my pills, and I come to, saying...
"I was just dreaming about the X-Men. Like, I was one of them. My power? ... Not regeneration."
Ya like that, huh?
Well... here's another one from the day I came home from the hospital:
"Lindsay's trying to give me weight training lessons in my head. ... It's not working."
More, you say? You want more?! Okay, fine.
Talking about taking pain meds in the hospital, trying to decide whether to have drugs administered via IV or with pills:
"The IV... The ID... The IV... This is fun for you isn't it? Where's the candid camera?"
Okay, okay, okay... One more.
To Judy in the hospital, as I was waking up (from a drug-induced stupor/sleep... obviously):
"We're cellmates. Living in a paper manufacturing company. And the beeper means that an order is ready."
Isn't it great that Judy keeps a notebook of all my surgeries/dreams/hallucinations, so I can share these special moments with you?
You're welcome.
Wednesday, August 20, 2014
Mmmmm... Bacon.
Here is a True Story From My Actual Life:
Last week, I fried up a pound of bacon like I am a woman who has both the strength and energy to cook dinner after a hard (half) day at work. (That's right. Bacon for dinner, don't judge.)
And then... once it was all fried up, I took a good, hard, look at that plate of bacon and I thought to myself...
"I should probably only eat half of that, because I don't want to make myself sick."
True story. I only ate HALF a pound of bacon. ... Because I was wanting to take it easy on the ol' gastrointestinal system.
And here's the kicker... even half a pound was too much for my sad little body to handle.
That's right. I CAN'T EVEN EAT HALF A POUND OF BACON WITHOUT GETTING SICK!
(What kind of person says something like that? ... Wait. Don't say anything. ... I know the answer: A lame one.)
...................................................................................................
Anyhoo... I made bacon again this week. You know, because I am not a quitter.
And, instead of eating half the bacon, I divided it into thirds and only ate 1/3 a lb of bacon.
Drumroll, please...
And, good news, kids! My sad little system can handle that!
Wahoo!
Bacon and Laurie = FRIENDS ON AGAIN! (In limited quantities.)
Saturday, August 2, 2014
Argh
My one, single, solitary gripe about The Sweetest Comeback in the History of Ever...
It seems that the people of Hostess chose not to bring back the dang blackberry pie when their product was resurrected and put back on the shelves of grocery stores and gas stations across the nation. Argh.
Now, I know this pie is chock full of sugar (and the crust is 100% white flour), so I couldn't really digest it... even if I could find one.
But man alive... what I wouldn't give for two (okay, three) bites of an old school blackberry pie.
I can't, for the life of me, find one of these:
It seems that the people of Hostess chose not to bring back the dang blackberry pie when their product was resurrected and put back on the shelves of grocery stores and gas stations across the nation. Argh.
Now, I know this pie is chock full of sugar (and the crust is 100% white flour), so I couldn't really digest it... even if I could find one.
But man alive... what I wouldn't give for two (okay, three) bites of an old school blackberry pie.
Friday, August 1, 2014
That was then, and this is now
Six weeks ago, this was the view from the top:
And now...
I CAN SEE MY FEET!
(Yeah, that's the same manicure I got the day of surgery. Don't judge. I have more important things to do than paint my toenails. Like painting my fingernails while I watch Castle.)
Wednesday, July 30, 2014
How I'm doing.
I've had a few (I may even upgrade that to "several") friends and family members call/text/email/facebook me lately to ask how I'm doing... really.
Here's the scoop:
I'm okay.
Honestly, I'm doing quite well.
Really.
I tire easily, but I think that's normal for being just shy of six weeks post-op. I get a little dizzy if I read for too long. I have to eat on a regular schedule so I don't get nauseated, and I take two Tylenol every six hours.
That might sound a little lame to those of you who climb mountains and/or eschew even over-the-counter drugs, but for me... I'm doing quite well.
True story. Just short of three weeks post-op (still on narcotics for surgical pain, mind you), I already felt better than I had in a year. Those darn hernias were bumming me out. In a major way.
I still can't walk a mile straight on the treadmill, but I can walk for almost a mile without feeling like my guts are going to fall right out of my body, even for a second. And that, my dears, if fabulous. (Pre-surgery, I couldn't walk around the block without searing pain. So, when I say that .87 miles on a treadmill is a victory, I'm not kidding.)
I can cough without having to push in/on my bellybutton, and sneezing no longer makes me feel like I was stabbed in the stomach and am going to bleed out in a matter of minutes. (Winning!)
Do I know that I still have cancer cells that are alive and well inside my body, and that there's a decent chance I'll lose my hair to chemo before Thanksgiving? Yeah, I do.
But ya know what else I know? ... That I won't know what those cells are doing, how fast they're growing, until October. So, there's no point in spending energy on all of the "what ifs" and "whens" of everything until I have the information and can see the plan in real time.
I figure, all I can do right now is... live. With what information and energy and drive and will that I have - right now - I am living my life. And I'll deal with whatever comes my way when it comes.
I'm okay.
Really, I am.
I promise.
Here's the scoop:
I'm okay.
Honestly, I'm doing quite well.
Really.
I tire easily, but I think that's normal for being just shy of six weeks post-op. I get a little dizzy if I read for too long. I have to eat on a regular schedule so I don't get nauseated, and I take two Tylenol every six hours.
That might sound a little lame to those of you who climb mountains and/or eschew even over-the-counter drugs, but for me... I'm doing quite well.
True story. Just short of three weeks post-op (still on narcotics for surgical pain, mind you), I already felt better than I had in a year. Those darn hernias were bumming me out. In a major way.
I still can't walk a mile straight on the treadmill, but I can walk for almost a mile without feeling like my guts are going to fall right out of my body, even for a second. And that, my dears, if fabulous. (Pre-surgery, I couldn't walk around the block without searing pain. So, when I say that .87 miles on a treadmill is a victory, I'm not kidding.)
I can cough without having to push in/on my bellybutton, and sneezing no longer makes me feel like I was stabbed in the stomach and am going to bleed out in a matter of minutes. (Winning!)
Do I know that I still have cancer cells that are alive and well inside my body, and that there's a decent chance I'll lose my hair to chemo before Thanksgiving? Yeah, I do.
But ya know what else I know? ... That I won't know what those cells are doing, how fast they're growing, until October. So, there's no point in spending energy on all of the "what ifs" and "whens" of everything until I have the information and can see the plan in real time.
I figure, all I can do right now is... live. With what information and energy and drive and will that I have - right now - I am living my life. And I'll deal with whatever comes my way when it comes.
I'm okay.
Really, I am.
I promise.
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