My Chemo Eve Blog and Why Alyssa Milano is on My Hit List

Tonight is the Chemo Eve of my last treatment (well, it better be!). I can't sleep because of the steroids and anxiety. The chocolate cream pie is almost gone, so the only thing left to do is write or watch another Wen haircare commercial where I give Alyssa Milano and her posse the finger every chance I get.

Even though chemo is ending tomorrow, my journey is not over. I still have the double mastectomy in October with another surgery following that for the final reconstruction. At least I can finally check the chemo part off the list and that feels really great!

But the boobs. Well, they've been with me for a while and saying goodbye to them is going to be sad and strange. I'll never forget the day I announced to the awesome moms at my kids' school, "Momma's getting new boobies!" They all squealed with delight and hugged me hard. I had made the decision to go for the double so that I could avoid future worries about the "healthy" breast. (Side note, who knows what the pathology report on this healthy side will show when this is over? Either way, it's going Bye Bye!) Anyway, I went through a little honeymoon phase about getting new boobies and many friends kept trying to make me feel good about "getting the ones I always wanted".  And I was joining in, too. Yay me!

After my honeymoon phase was over, of course I analyzed it in true Becky form. I thought, if I was getting my leg amputated would people say, "Oh, you'll get a new one!" Having your breasts removed surgically is, in fact, an amputation, right? In the end, yes, I will have new breasts. The skin on the outside will be the same, however, the feeling will be mostly gone and I will not have my own nipples, but some pretty real looking ones in the end.  I will have taken the measures needed to save my life and ensure the beast does not come back to haunt me years from now. A small price to pay in the end. It is the only solution, in my opinion, to live a long healthy life and give breast cancer the final FU. And the silver linings?  I will no longer be an A cup, thank you very much. If I'm going through all this torture, you better believe my girls are going bigger....not like Dolly Parton, don't worry. ANYTHING is bigger than what I currently have!  Also, I hear you can go braless! This girl is going wild  just thinking about that because I hate bra shopping more than I hate watching the Wen commercials. 

Even still, I sit here after downing more chocolate cream pie. I'm almost 20 pounds heavier in just over 2 short months. (And sadly, none of this weight gain has gone to my boobs. One more reason to give them the boot. Why don't they join in with my ass and my stomach?)  I've gone up almost 2 sizes. I learned that only fictional characters on TV lose weight during cancer, but real life women with breast cancer explode from the steroids, the anti-nausea meds that prevent you from puking your weight loss, inactivity, and eating what makes you feel good or tastes good because most things taste bland, sour, or like metal for weeks. I now call myself Puff Mommy. My rolls now have rolls. Someone pass the butta!!

It's not easy looking like the Pillsbury Doughboy when you get out of the shower. So now, I just let the mirror get as foggy as possible so I don't have to look. I decided that this version of me just represents everything about Breast Cancer. No matter what I do, or how I look, I will be forever changed by this on the inside. Gaining weight is really not the end of the world and I know it's temporary.  However, the  internal effects are permanent and transforming me every day. 

To all of my Pink Sisters who feel bad about themselves right now I say this. Stop it right now! Please. We all have enough shit to endure right now and making yourself feel bad because you're a little plumper, a lot balder, or just sooo different than the old version of you, is not going to help you heal and beat the BEAST. Be kind to yourself! If that means buying some new clothes to make you feel better, then do it. Put on some lipstick, a cool hat and get out there and have some fun.

OR, if it means eating a little more pie, then fork it in. Because after your next chemo treatment, you know that you won't enjoy it.  Ooops, I think we are talking about me now. Gotta go, that white box in the fridge is calling Puff Mommy. 

My kiss goodbye to chemo. FUBC!!