tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6537741214289751202024-03-18T12:24:04.081-07:00Becky's Big BytesEating chocolate in the closet. One morsel at a time.Becky's Big Byteshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03160647325073470441noreply@blogger.comBlogger189125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-653774121428975120.post-72790220946214516342016-05-14T15:30:00.002-07:002016-05-14T15:30:27.627-07:00My Foobs and How They Compare to Marie Barone's Plastic Covered CouchI've had this blog in a draft for over a year, partly because I am forgetful at times and partly because I've been a little scared to publish it. After a week of hearing about more recurrences in my friends who've already had breast cancer and a few newly diagnosed in my circle, I vowed that I wouldn't post this or ever, ever complain about my Foobs again because I should be grateful to be alive. However, it all needs to be said, even though I feel guilty about it (must be the Italian in me!). And yes, I am grateful, all the time, even for the stupidest shit like grocery shopping, laundry and taking out the trash. So, if I sound like I'm complaining about my life, I am not. I have a great life but the reality is that cancer and mastectomies change you forever and this all still needs to be said. And there are people like me who need to hear it so that they don't feel so alone on this journey.<br />
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So here goes:<br />
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Once in a blue moon, I have a serious emotional meltdown about my Foobs. It seems to come out of nowhere and almost always happens in the shower. I just cry and cry and cry. I let it out and then I move on.<br />
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When I was faced with a double mastectomy, my plastic surgeon outlined how the surgery would be done and it all looked very simple and in the end, I'd have some perky new boobies. He had pictures of women who had endured the same surgery and I felt really confident that all would be hunky dory in the end. I would be normal again.<br />
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I was wrong.<br />
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Don't get me wrong, my doctor is a superstar and did a great job. I adore him, his staff and the phenomenal care he gave me. What I didn't know about having this surgery is that I am stuck feeling like there is something stuck on my chest (ha, maybe because there <i>is</i>). I am still numb on both sides under my arms and into my lat muscles. My nipples are gone. I get occasional itches on (or in, who can tell?) my breasts and while this sounds very exciting, if I try to scratch, I cannot find the itch to save my life. I have very little feeling in my new breasts. They are constantly cold to the touch and yet, they have the ability to sweat underneath. When I am cuddling with my kids, I feel like there is something in the way and I have actually knocked my little one down a time or two.<br />
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Reconstructed breasts are NOT what people think they are. The majority of women I have spoken to about this have agreed that their new breasts have little, if any feeling and are definitely not any source of pleasure. They do enjoy the way they look in clothes but they, too get annoyed by the constant feeling of something stuck on them and the way they bump into things.<br />
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And then there is the disturbing feeling that I can no longer or will never feel my own heartbeat again.<br />
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Or the self-consciousness of undressing in a ladies' locker room for fear someone will see my scars and missing nipples. (Then again, I personally have seen MUCH scarier in the locker room so maybe it's not <i>that</i> bad.).<br />
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No one really wants to talk about sex and their mate's feelings towards their new breasts. Let's just say that the top shelf is just overlooked and no one's buying anything up there! If you want a tell-it-like-it-really-is version of what it's all like, <a href="https://www.ihadcancer.com/h3-blog/05-12-2016/4-worst-things-about-sex-after-cancer" target="_blank">click here for Ann Marie Otis' blog of Stupid Dumb Breast Cancer fame.</a> She is my hero for her honesty and candor!<br />
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For those women who had their own tissue and fat transferred into their new breasts, the feeling may be a little more natural but again, there is still no sensation up there. No one's buying.<br />
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This all kind of reminds me of Marie Barone's beautiful plastic covered couch. You can look at it but you canNOT sit on it. <em>Ever. It's all for show!</em><br />
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Trying to look "whole" again, comes with a great price including numerous surgeries, anesthesia, time out of work and life and emotional healing. When we do finally achieve the look, we still feel freaky. I feel like a prisoner in my own body most of the time. I want to jump out of my skin and run far away, but I can't. I feel trapped and to remove the implants would mean yet another surgery and I just don't have the energy to deal with more emotional upheaval. I, too, like the way I look in clothes, for the most part. But is it worth it? I'm hoping that over time, I will adapt more to these implants.<br />
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Will this ever get easier? It's been 2 years. And that's why I have these random crying meltdowns before getting in the shower. The low grade discontent, day after day, week after week rears its ugly head. Almost like a <a href="https://youtu.be/74Kn1pNIlq8" target="_blank">pimple waiting to pop</a> (if you need to laugh, click the link). <br />
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Some women (and more and more) choose to be "flat and fabulous", opting for zero recon. Some of my friends have opted for this and their doctors have questioned them and just assumed that they would automatically want recon. These women are sometimes criticized for their decisions and made to feel less feminine. Shame on the doctors who chastise a woman's right to go flat and fab. However, one friend noted that she feels like a joyful child without any breasts. Just writing that made me smile so big. <br />
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These feelings of guilt just make me feel worse so I'm here to tell my sisters; feel shitty, cry, scream, run far away from that bathroom mirror if it makes you feel better. Get therapy when you are ready, be kind to yourself, love yourself, do something that makes you feel good and remember that you have every right to your feelings.<br />
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As for me, I give myself permission to cry and grieve and realize this is normal. And I will continue to count all of my blessings and move forward. I try really hard not to let these things wear me down and stop me from living. <br />
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I'd love to hear from anyone who has gone through reconstruction and how you feel several years later. Please comment below if you feel comfortable. I know I can't be the only one feeling like this!Becky's Big Byteshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03160647325073470441noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-653774121428975120.post-33495372008854069472016-04-29T17:23:00.001-07:002016-04-29T17:23:52.031-07:00Happy Sugar-versary to Me<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Today marks one full month since I gave up sweets. </div>
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I found this entry in my food journal today and felt pretty damn proud of myself:</div>
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And I have stopped saying, <i>"I gave up sweets"</i> because it just sounds so martyr'ish and deprived.<br />
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Instead, I now look at it as being<i> emancipated </i>from sugar. Being freed from the shackles of sugar is liberating, powerful and extremely rewarding. Who knew it could feel this way? And except for the 3 day headache I had 5 days into this gig, I'm feeling pretty damn good and my mental fog has lifted, tremendously. Yay! Extra brain power is always a good thing.<br />
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Today I will share some tips that have helped me to get through the last 30 days. This is, by no means, any type of medical advice, just what has worked for me:<br />
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1. I plan my snacks to heed off cravings. Some of my favorites include: hard boiled eggs, fruit, nuts, apple slices or banana with all natural peanut butter (no sugar added!), and<a href="http://fitandhealthywithdebbie.blogspot.com/2012/10/banana-oatmeal-breakfast-muffins.html#.VyP0lzArLIW" target="_blank"> these yummy homemade breakfast oatmeal muffins</a> which do not contain any flour or sugar. I actually use less than half of the amount of honey suggested and they taste great. Eating snacks with protein throughout the day definitely helps to maintain my blood sugar so I don't have highs and lows I would normally have if I was hitting the candy dish at work.<br />
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2. Before my morning coffee, I start the day with a big glass of water with squeezed lemon. <a href="http://www.livestrong.com/article/215380-drinking-hot-water-lemon-in-the-morning/" target="_blank">Here's why</a>. So many reasons!!<br />
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3. Speaking of water, I drink it all day long. I keep a large refilled cup with me everywhere I go. It keeps me hydrated and feeling fuller. I've learned not to mistake thirst for hunger.<br />
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4. I do not use any artificial sweeteners of any kind. I never have and never will and I am actually shocked that they are still on the market, considering how harmful they are. They also do not really stave off any cravings and can make them worse.<br />
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5. Exercise, exercise, exercise. It gives me something else to do (besides baking cookies) and is a great stress reliever and mood elevator. I have also returned to yoga and that has brought me the biggest joy of all.<br />
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6. I incorporate extra veggies in my diet wherever possible. They have tons of nutrients, fiber, and water and help to fill you up. Example. I made homemade burgers the other night and mixed in 2-3 diced portobello mushrooms, 1/4 chopped onion and a half of a shredded and squeezed dry zucchini. with some of my favorite spices and a few dashes of Worcestershire sauce. All of these veggies literally disappeared into the meat and helped me to get an extra 2 burgers out of the meal. A win win! (the kids had no clue either). I also cut up tons of raw veggies on a Sunday and keep them in a container for the week and grab for a quick snack.<br />
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7. I do not drink any alcohol. At all. For some, this will not work. For me, I simply cannot handle any alcohol due to the estrogen blocking, 10 year drug I am on. Alcohol does not agree with me. It's more sugar and calories I don't have to worry about.<br />
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Because I have eliminated sweets, my life does not seem to revolve around hunger and food anymore like it used to. Now, I just eat for sustenance and it's sort of odd, coming from an Italian family where everything always revolved around food and treats. I also find myself taking on more projects around the house and have an intense need to clean out every one's closets and drawers.<br />
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My point is, life is still joyful, if not more. I don't feel deprived, ever. And the thought of eating candy is actually revolting to me. Life is sweet enough and I'm sure I can find another closet to clean!<br />
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<br />Becky's Big Byteshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03160647325073470441noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-653774121428975120.post-50136575036262570842016-04-16T18:01:00.002-07:002016-04-16T18:01:29.746-07:00Going Sugar Free: It's Lent, Only LongerHow does one go about giving up sugar? There is so much advice on the internet and there are a lot of great ideas out there. I'll share what has worked for me in the next few blog posts. This blog is really more about getting your head on straight and psyching yourself up. If I can do it, so can you!! <br />
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Here we go:<br />
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1. The first rule of Sugar Free Club: I stopped telling myself "I could <i>never</i> give up sugar." (Many have said this to me lately). I stifled the old voices in my head that had previously sabotaged my efforts. My new voices say, "<i>I am powerful and sugar is no longer in charge." </i><br />
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2. I told myself that if I dabbled in<i> any</i> way, then it would be <i>over</i>. My version of dabbling means trying "harmless" things like a few chocolate chips in my Greek yogurt or a few chocolate chips on a spoonful of peanut butter. I reminded myself that when I had dabbled in the past, it always led to a relapse of epic proportions. So, no dabbling allowed. <br />
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3. I didn't set an "end date" for quitting sugar. This is Lent, only longer. I'm going to keep it going for as long as possible. Do I get a front row seat in heaven for this one?<br />
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4. I pretend I have a severe food allergy or that I am like a recovering alcoholic who simply cannot have one drink without falling off the wagon. This is a very powerful technique and has allowed me to retrain my brain. If you keep telling yourself something over and over again, you will believe it, even if it isn't true. This can work in both positive and negative ways, depending on what your self-chatter is all about!<br />
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5. When I find myself in a social setting involving sweets, I simply let the voices of Nancy Reagan and M.C. Hammer guide me during these testy times. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My new favorite power couple!</td></tr>
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6. I sought out inspiration from people who have kicked the sugar habit successfully. Hearing their triumphant stories and words of encouragement helped me to get started and<i> keep going</i>. "It gets easier, don't give up", and "If and when you ever do eat sweets again you won't really enjoy them like before." All of this gives me hope.<br />
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I know my tips may seem a little unconventional but they are definitely working for me. The next blog will talk about the practical things I am doing to stay on track. Stay tuned, my sweeties!Becky's Big Byteshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03160647325073470441noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-653774121428975120.post-52582829107029103562016-04-15T19:56:00.001-07:002016-04-15T19:56:54.505-07:00Living without Sugar<span style="font-family: inherit;">I have read numerous articles about the damaging effects of sugar on the body and <a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/kristin-kirkpatrick-ms-rd-ld/dangers-of-sugar_b_3658061.html" target="_blank">here is a great one </a>written by a nutritionist. This one point: <i style="font-weight: bold;">Sugar may be linked to cancer production and may effect cancer survival</i><span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-size: 17px; line-height: 27px;"><i style="font-weight: bold;"> </i>was the nail in the coffin for me. Please read the article because there are so many more important reasons to give up or at least cut down on the sweet stuff.</span></span></span><br />
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As promised in my last blog, here is an update on my progress:<br />
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I am happy to report I have been sugar free for 17 days and counting. No desserts of any kind; cookies, candy, ice cream, or even the usual 1/2 tsp of sugar in my morning Joe.<br />
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I have scooped ice cream for my kids without so much as licking the spoon, my co-workers have dangled Dove chocolates under my nose without incident, and last weekend I sat at a child's birthday party where 2 moms devoured Allies doughnut cake right in front of me. One of them actually snickered when I told her I had given up sugar. She said to me, "<i>But you have to <b>live</b>!</i>" It's funny how we associate a few seconds of pleasure with "Living".<br />
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I then started rattling off my list of reasons for quitting sweets. I told her that I now treat myself like a person with a severe food allergy or a recovering alcoholic who wouldn't dare to dabble in one drink. I think this made her a little uncomfortable but I think she understood a lot better when I explained my health history and just how lousy sugar was making me feel. She then proceeded to inhale her doughnut cake in all its glory. I sat there, completely happy for her, yet removed from it all.<br />
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<i>I'm allergic. It will make me sick.. </i><br />
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These are the mantras I hold close and use as weaponry when life gets too sweet. And you know, it's really working. I have realized over the last 17 days that I can live without sweets and they do not control me any longer. I find myself having flashbacks of Funny Bones, brownie sundaes, chocolate chip cookies, and Twix bars. I can vividly remember the way they taste and then I tell myself, "<i>That's a nice memory, but it has to be enough</i>." And then I move on.<br />
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Sometimes a memory of something has to be enough if you want to keep on living.Becky's Big Byteshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03160647325073470441noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-653774121428975120.post-86343210798232303312016-04-04T19:33:00.002-07:002016-04-04T19:33:32.367-07:00Breaking up with Sugar....AgainIt's been far too long since my last post and I really have missed writing. All has been going pretty well here on the home front, with the exception of some nasty and occasional side effects of Tamoxifen. For the most part, I have adjusted to the drug but on occasion, I have had some major bouts of depression, anxiety, rage, apathy and exhaustion. Thankfully, I am aware that it is the drug talking and not something else. Adding peri-menopause to the mix adds even more excitement!<br />
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Oh, and did I mention forgetfulness? The other day, I was driving to work and turned into the Lowe's parking lot which would have been fantastic if I actually <i>worked</i> at Lowe's. In all fairness to me, I was very busy trying to harmonize with Adele on the radio and got mildly distracted. My office was at the next light so I wasn't really off Google maps, just yet.<br />
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Being almost 3 years out from my original BC diagnosis, I decided this year to really focus on my own health and wellness instead of fear and anxiety. I have been trying so very hard to take good care of myself. I find myself eating healthier food, exercising, minimizing stress, and reducing the toxic burden in my life by using safer products on my skin and in my home. Swearing at people who throw cigarette butts outside their car windows also helps. It's all about balance.<br />
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With all of this super self-care, there was one area that still suffered, and that was my sugar intake.<br />
<a href="http://beckysbigbytes.blogspot.com/2010/11/diary-of-sugar-baby.html" target="_blank">Read this for my history on this sugar struggle bus.</a><br />
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Overall, I am OK (at least I was telling myself this). But all it takes is one mother of a chocolate holiday (aren't they all lately?) to derail me, or an innocent night of baking cookies "for the kids" which turns into a gorge fest to "get rid of them" the day after. Easter is the new Halloween judging by the obnoxious bags of candy adorning the Easter aisles of any Target or CVS and while we really didn't buy the kids much candy, they still somehow landed with enough to fill Olson's Mercantile. And the only way to get rid of it is to EAT IT.<br />
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My come-to-Jesus moment came just 1 day after Easter when I found myself on my own personal Easter egg hunt searching for candy where candy does not dwell....my bedroom closet and underneath the bathroom counters (I recall having hidden some Swedish fish inside a tampon box once) and then I stopped in my tracks. I actually stepped outside myself for a moment and looked at how desperate and crazy I had become. This is what pure sugar addiction had done to me For once, I am not joking.<br />
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This one moment in time proved to me that I needed help. If I was going to get real about giving up sugar then it meant that I could no longer just have a little here and there, or as I call it, "dabbling".<br />
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So, I have finally decided to kick my sugar habit once and for all. I know my closest friends and family members are saying, "<i>Here she goes again</i>", but this time is different. (Spoken like a true addict, I know!)<br />
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It's been almost one full week since I have eaten any form of dessert, cookie, candy, or even sugar in my coffee. I have to say it has been so much easier than my other feeble attempts. The difference this time is that I know I have a real problem with sugar and now I simply look at it as something that actually makes me sick, both physically and mentally.<br />
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Of course, I haven't lost a fucking pound, but that's OK. I'm really proud of myself for taking this step and finding my inner power. I promise to keep you posted on this one. I know I always say that here, but this time, it's different.<br />
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<br />Becky's Big Byteshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03160647325073470441noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-653774121428975120.post-38448402962246906652015-06-07T13:55:00.001-07:002015-06-07T17:16:57.339-07:00What National Cancer Survivor Day Means to MeAccording to my most trusted news source (Facebook), today is <b>National Cancer Survivor Day.</b> If you don't believe me, <a href="https://www.facebook.com/CancerSurvivorsDay?fref=nf" target="_blank">you can click here</a> to see what all the fuss is about and perhaps even "like" their page.<br />
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I started writing a blog about this special day and then decided to scrap it for something less intense. It kinda said everything that's<a class="gqbdqgly" href="https://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=653774121428975120#25021204" title="Click to Continue > by Info"> already<img src="https://cdncache1-a.akamaihd.net/items/it/img/arrow-10x10.png" /></a> been said about survivorship so I thought it best to not reinvent the wheel.<br />
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Here's what being a survivor is really like, in my world anyway!<br />
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1. This. Just after diagnosis I felt exactly like this.<br />
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2. Enjoying the "glass half full" with having implants: I am completely buoyant in the water and will NEVER drown (see #1), no matter how much I don't try to stay afloat. I can single-boobedly save an entire family from a capsized ferry!<br />
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3. Picturing everyone I know with no hair. It's true. When you go bald, it's all you see. A bunch of cue balls! And you know what? People are more attractive with no hair. No. Joke!<br />
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4. Saying "yes" to the things that make me happy and "no" to the things that don't.<br />
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5. Forgetting everything. My kids' names, where I left my keys, what did I eat for supper 5<a class="gqbdqgly" href="https://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=653774121428975120#16838216" title="Click to Continue > by Info"> minutes<img src="https://cdncache1-a.akamaihd.net/items/it/img/arrow-10x10.png" /></a> ago?<br />
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6. Taking great care to shave my underarms because I now have this canyon between my foobs and my pits. It's a thing you have to see to really understand but no, I'm not posting a pic.<br />
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7. Enjoying the little things in life; like watching my kids play, waiting at the bus stop, and even cleaning the house. Cuz I can.<br />
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8. Not feeling guilty about ordering Peapod to deliver my<a class="gqbdqgly" href="https://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=653774121428975120#13617881" title="Click to Continue > by Info"> groceries<img src="https://cdncache1-a.akamaihd.net/items/it/img/arrow-10x10.png" /></a>, even with my able body. Life is just too damn short to waste time lugging groceries on a nice day. (So I'm blogging instead!)<br />
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9. Unfriending people on Facebook because they complain too much about nonsense and how hard their lives are.<br />
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10. Friending perfect strangers on FB because they are in the same life boat as me and I feel like I've known them forever.<br />
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11. Freedom. Being a survivor for me means freedom. That is what good health is. Freedom to do what I want when I want. It's freedom to let go of the past, look forward to the future and ride this wave, no matter where it takes me. And because I'm so damn buoyant now (see #2), I can go ANYWHERE and be safe.<br />
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God bless all the survivors out there. You are not alone! And God bless all of the doctors,<a class="gqbdqgly" href="https://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=653774121428975120#22919874" title="Click to Continue > by Info"> nurses<img src="https://cdncache1-a.akamaihd.net/items/it/img/arrow-10x10.png" /></a> and caregivers who help all of us survivors every day. We would not be here without you all. Having cancer sucked but I'm proud to be a survivor among many great survivors who are not just surviving, but thriving. Peace and love to you all!Becky's Big Byteshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03160647325073470441noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-653774121428975120.post-38246892760907417242015-05-11T09:18:00.001-07:002015-05-11T09:18:21.613-07:00You've Come a Long Way, BoobieIf you are struggling with something like the after effects of breast cancer, how do you know if you've "moved on"? There are so many emotions to deal with and sometimes it's hard to be objective about yourself. Sometimes, it takes an actual event for you to see the writing on the wall!<br />
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Last year around this time, I had attended an event where there was a nursing mom. There she sat with her infant, breastfeeding her babe in broad daylight (I know, the horror!). Even though I had already had my "exchange surgery" where my final implants were surgically placed inside of me, I was still emotionally raw.<br />
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As I sat there, glancing over at the new mom, I was filled with sadness. I wasn't prepared to be in this situation. I just wanted to get the hell out of there....fast. I just couldn't deal. At all. But somehow, I did. I managed to get through the event by swallowing my tears and telling myself that it was OK. This is normal. You have to expect this.<br />
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It's funny how we put expectations on ourselves with a timetable of when we are supposed to be "over it". I've learned that placing time limits on your feelings is cruel to the self and now I find that I need to just ride the wave.<br />
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Fast forward to four weeks ago. I was visiting a friend who happens to be a new mom and she was immersed in the world of breastfeeding her baby. Her friend was also there, nursing and talking about all things breast and milk. And you know, I was OK! Actually, not just OK, but I was able to participate in the conversation and offer support as a veteran, nursing mom. I never once felt sad, depressed, or the need to vacate the premises. Even more, I was so happy for these two, beautiful, happy moms.<br />
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That, my friends is PROGRESS!<br />
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I have pictures of my old breasts on my I-Pad and they jump out and hit me in the eye every time I access my photo stream. (Yes, "before" pics were important to me!) Every time they pop up now, I just breeze past them. They were a big part of my life and served a very important purpose. But now I feel like they are just somebody that I used to know.<br />
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I don't want to sound overly cocky that I have kicked these emotions to the curb for good. Who knows if I'll have some sort of massive, mammary meltdown in a store dressing room three weeks from now.<br />
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For now, I am feeling pretty good that I have rounded a corner and my brain is not so hyper-focused on what I have lost. I will continue to ride the wave, no matter where it takes me and that is OK!</div>
<br />Becky's Big Byteshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03160647325073470441noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-653774121428975120.post-68464496283120338142015-04-12T18:10:00.001-07:002015-04-12T18:10:43.482-07:00Diversity TrendMy friend, Mark recently shared his masters project idea with me and I really loved the concept! He told me that one of the requirements of his Innovative Marketing Strategies class was to build a website and promote it. Instead of creating a faux company "selling widgets", he and his partner decided to build one that could actually make a difference in society. And so <a href="http://www.diversitytrend.com/" target="_blank">Diversity Trend </a>was born. <div>
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I am very excited to share his project with my readers and hope that everyone will take a few minutes to check out his site. Mark would love some feedback on his site, too, so please use the <a href="http://www.diversitytrend.com/contact-us/" target="_blank">Contact Us</a> tab to get in touch with him.<br /><div>
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I really love the mission statement for Diversity Trend:</div>
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<i>"To cultivate a community representing a wide variety of individuals at all
levels, all of whom respect, honor and celebrate the broad range of human
differences among us, while also embracing the commonalities we share, and to
provide each individual with the opportunity to achieve his or her full
potential while pursuing their goals."</i><br />
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As a mom,<a href="http://www.diversitytrend.com/blog-2/what-we-can-learn-from-pre-school/" target="_blank"> this story </a>about Mark's daughter's pre-school experience really touched me. The activity "<b>We are all the same on the inside</b>” is so powerful and is a great message for ALL ages. Perhaps corporate America could weave this activity into their diversity trainings, too!<br />
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And because diversity is, well, so diverse, Mark also has a section called <a href="http://www.diversitytrend.com/think-before-you-speak/" target="_blank">Think Before You Speak</a> and advises on what NOT to say to veterans. We all have good intentions but sometimes we say the wrong thing, self included.<br />
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Follow Diversity Trend on Facebook and Twitter too and please share with your friends!<br />
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Becky's Big Byteshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03160647325073470441noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-653774121428975120.post-57255337233972428512015-03-06T14:40:00.002-08:002015-03-06T14:40:10.410-08:00Going Through Detox (It's not what you think : )Last year, I made some really HUGE changes in my life. After 3 surgeries and 4 rounds of chemo, losing my hair, getting fat, dealing with severe anxiety and depression, and finally coming to grips with it all and getting my act together, I started reducing the toxic burdens in my life. Up until last year, I thought I led a pretty healthy lifestyle but as it turns out, I was blindly using products on myself, my kids and in my home that were not very safe after all.<br />
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I'll back up to December 2013.<br />
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My chemo treatments were done and I had recovered from my double mastectomy. I was finally cleared for exercising at the gym. On my very first day back, I was hot flashing on the treadmill, me and my G.I. Jane look. As I slowly lifted one foot in front of the other, one of the trainers asked me if it was ok to put the big fan on in the corner. (Usually people cannot handle "the big fan"). In true form, I began to spill my guts and the floodgates opened. I told her the more fan the better, as this girl was always on fire lately. Point that fan over here, please!<br />
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As I got to know this kind woman named Lori, I learned that she, too was a breast cancer survivor. Hey, why not? It's only an epidemic, right? In no time at all, she was educating me about the dangers of parabens in beauty care products and how in some studies parabens have rendered Tamoxifen INEFFECTIVE. Of course, this caught my ear. Since I am on this 5 year plan of estrogen-blocking Tamoxifen, why would I continue to use products that contain parabens if they are going to counteract each other? After so many painstaking steps to become "cancer free", did I really want to take a gamble with my health? The answer was a simple "NO". (And p.s....not ONE of my doctors ever thought to mention this very important piece of information with me. Disappointing!!!)<br />
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It turns out, parabens were just ONE thing to worry about. <br />
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I told Lori that I used and sold Mary Kay products for years. She told me about the skin care products she uses and sells, <a href="http://www.avaandersonnontoxic.com/" target="_blank">Ava Anderson Non-Toxic</a>. I had never heard of it, even though this company is right here in my home state of Rhode Island. She was willing to come to my house and let me try everything I wanted for free. So, I let her. The old me would have politely declined her offer but the new me was really intrigued by this "non-toxic" concept. Immediately, I was hooked and this was after using the same skin care from the same company for 31 years straight (talk about loyalty!). <br />
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I immediately ordered the entire Ava skin care set and then booked a party so I could earn free products. Oh, and she suggested I use some of Ava's Diaper Cream on my chest as my foobs were suffering from the dreadful expansion process (see past blogs if you need to get caught up!). The diaper cream worked wonders and I was now an Ava convert! <br />
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I'll fast forward to now. Since then I have signed on as a consultant to sell Ava's products and share the Ava Anderson Non-Toxic message with everyone who will listen, and even those who won't. I absolutely love these products and everything this company stands for (and doesn't stand for). I am not an expert in this field but I have learned so much in the last 9 months. <a href="http://www.avaandersonnontoxic.com/why-non-toxic/" target="_blank">Ava's website</a> has some great tools for anyone who is nervous or overwhelmed about getting started on the non-toxic road. Trust me, it's very easy and can be done all at once or even just little by little. Any step in the right direction is always a good thing. The link provided will give you a list of some of the biggest toxic offenders lurking in your skin care products. <br />
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I'm so happy that Lori shared her knowledge with me that fateful day. I do believe knowledge is power and that ignorance is <strong>not</strong> bliss, especially when it comes to your health. It's my time now to share what I know and hopefully help someone else who will benefit from this information. Why keep such a wonderful thing a secret?<br />
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I will be sharing more about Ava's products and how to help detoxify your life in my upcoming blogs. I hope you enjoy it and share it with those you love and care about. Thank you xoxo<br />
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P.S. In the mean time, <a href="http://www.avaandersonnontoxic.com/rebeccanero" target="_blank">take a look at my site </a>and do a little shopping for yourself, a loved one, someone having their 1st or 10th baby, and even your pets! Any questions, please reach out to me and I'll be happy to help. Becky's Big Byteshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03160647325073470441noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-653774121428975120.post-79583021771919634892015-02-15T09:28:00.002-08:002015-02-15T09:28:57.835-08:00Survive Your Next Doctor's Appointment with Dignity. GetJanes!It goes without saying that over the past 2 years, I've been to numerous doctors and lab centers, having more than my share of mammograms, ultrasounds, guided biopsies, MRI's, surgeries, and treatments......all fun stuff. I am happy to no longer be a pin cushion and a patient!<br />
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During that time I found myself on tissue paper-covered waiting tables, cold slabs, and sitting in waiting rooms with scores of other scared women.... each of us wearing ill-fitting "Johnnies", trying to keep our privates private. There we sat, all in fetal-like positions, trying to hold on to what little dignity we had. You know that pose, right? The one where your legs are crossed and your arms are pulling at the inside ties to help cover your nether regions? Something<i> always</i> falls out, no matter how hard you try. It's so humiliating!<br />
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I thought the Johnnies were the worst thing in town, until I had my 6 month oncology appointment last year. I was sent into "the room" by the sweet, 20 year old medical assistant.<br />
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She told me to undress.<br />
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"<em>Put this on</em>".<br />
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(Who on God's pink earth thought this one up?)</div>
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In case you are thinking your eyes are deceiving you, look again. This is not just a pink, paper Johnny, but an actual MIDRIFF pink, paper Johnny. I bet you didn't know they made them this fancy!</div>
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Now, let's back up a second. Once my journey was over, I had gained a full 40 lbs (wow, just like each of my pregnancies!) I could picture my side boobs and my jelly belly just spilling out of the sides of this. You would think with my big mouth that now matched my big body, it would have been a good time to speak up and revolt, but I honestly was in too much shock to protest. So, if my memory serves, I left my undies and pants on and put this on top. <i>I still felt utterly ridiculous.</i> And pink....really? I'm so over you!</div>
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Even with the modifications I managed to make before my doc came in, I still felt so stupid and uncomfortable in a pink, paper midriff Johnny. But did I have a choice? No. Did I feel powerful in this situation? NO. This is the way it is and it will never change. </div>
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So I thought.</div>
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Then, through the power of social media, a woman named <a href="http://getjanes.com/about-me/" target="_blank">Sharon Linder</a> contacted me on LinkedIn. She must have noticed my then bald head and my numerous references to breast cancer awareness. She introduced herself as the CEO of<a href="http://getjanes.com/the-story/" target="_blank"> GetJanes</a>. (Ps. I <i><b>love</b></i> the name of her company!) She generously sent me one of her genius inventions. It's more like the "Anti-Johnny" and covers you in all the right places, while also being soft and comfy. It even comes in its own soft carrying case so you can bring it to your appointments and no longer bear the wrath of the pink, paper Johnny!</div>
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Please check out her website and <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QmbXsThzmyw" target="_blank">watch this video</a>! As it turns out, <a href="http://getjanes.com/" target="_blank">GetJanes</a> were born out of personal necessity. Sharon, her sisters and mother all fought their own cancer battles and I'm sure they saw more than their share of paper Johnnies. </div>
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<b>Do you have a friend or family member who is going through a tough illness, requiring multiple tests or treatments?</b> Do you think that flowers are a great idea? Well, they do brighten one's day, however they DIE! For the cost of a floral arrangement you can <a href="http://getjanes.com/" target="_blank">GetJanes</a> and give them something they can wear with dignity at each appointment. And ps. they also make a great every day robe too. Mine hangs on my bathroom door hook so I have something light to wear when I get out of the shower. </div>
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Quotes from the little men in my house:</div>
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"<i>Mommy, that looks so soft and comfortable!"</i></div>
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<i>"It looks like something you could wear to the beach!</i>"</div>
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They are so smart!</div>
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I can't WAIT to go to my follow up appointments with my oncologist and my breast surgeon over the next few months. I plan on bringing my Jane with me. No more paper Johnnies for this girl. When I said I would be bringing back my power in 2015 that includes not being that scared, cowering girl sitting on a cold slab, with my side boobs hanging out. </div>
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I'll be wearing my Janes proudly!</div>
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p.s. I received no monetary compensation for writing this blog, but I did GetJanes which is way more valuable. Thank you, Sharon Linder! So happy our paths crossed. xoxo</div>
Becky's Big Byteshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03160647325073470441noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-653774121428975120.post-43183098409937206352015-01-21T08:35:00.001-08:002015-01-21T08:35:07.600-08:00Reclaiming My PowerI've spent a lot of time talking and writing about my physical and emotional breast cancer journey over the last 18 months. I think it's time to move on, although I can't promise that I won't regress and need to vent about my plus-sized body or how my bionic boobs still freak me out. The (not so) funny thing about the breast cancer journey is it truly never ends. But I will say I am in a much happier and peaceful place than I was just 6 months ago. Hallelujah!<br />
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The last two years have been wrought with vulnerability and loss of control. I decided that for 2015, I'm going to talk more about prevention, detection and reclaiming my power.<br />
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I think that out of all of the human conditions, the feeling of powerlessness has to be the worst one. We've all experienced it; whether it's having to wait for a computer to cooperate while we are in the middle of a project, working in a job we feel stuck in, or (so much worse), watching a loved one suffer and there is nothing we can do to ease their pain. And then, there is the powerlessness over one's own condition, like being given a brutal diagnosis for which there is no hope.<br />
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Loss of power can leave us feeling helpless and fearful. Constantly. It is a horrible way to exist.<br />
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The beautiful thing about surviving a cancer diagnosis (for me, anyway), is that I now feel powerful. Who knew? In my world, there is nothing that I cannot do. My mind is no longer limited by my insecurities and fears. There has been a definite shift in my thinking and I am determined to live my life, going forward and in a state of power. No more fear.<br />
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I'm sharing all of this with you to plant the seeds for my upcoming blogs. I've learned so much over the last year about two very important topics:<br />
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1. Toxic chemicals in household and beauty products<br />
2. Dense breasts and why you need to know more about them<br />
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These topics are completely unrelated but writing about them and sharing what I know is super important to me. As I have been so immersed in the breast cancer community, I am aware (on a daily basis) of women my age and so much younger, who are dying of breast cancer. I'm so damn tired of it. I'm so deeply sad about it. And, I feel powerless about it and you know, I cannot feel this way any longer.<br />
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I am going to use my power of knowledge now to spread the type of awareness that is real and necessary. And if I could ask a favor of anyone who reads this, it would be that you share this blog with everyone you know.<br />
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Be powerful. <br />
xoxoBecky's Big Byteshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03160647325073470441noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-653774121428975120.post-23643580100677424032014-10-28T13:10:00.001-07:002014-10-28T13:11:46.005-07:00Ovaries are Cute, tooIt's a good thing that Butt Cancer does not affect 1 in 8 women. <br />
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Can you imagine how very scary the month of October would be?<br />
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"<em>Save the A-Holes</em>!" <br />
"<em>Make sure you get your A-Holes checked!"</em><br />
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I envision special fundraisers like, "<em>Putt Putt for the Butt Butts, get your hole-in-one</em>!" or<br />
"<em>Don't use toilet paper today in honor of Butts everywhere. Let's go STREAKING</em>!!!"<br />
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Seriously. I think breast cancer deserves attention, but so do<em> all</em> cancers. Because breast cancer strikes 1 in 8 women nationally, it warrants a lot of research and attention. However, the #1 cancer<strong> killer</strong> of women is actually LUNG cancer. Sadly, you never hear about this. If I was a woman with lung cancer in the month of October, I'd be pretty pissed off.<br />
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And what about ovarian cancer, known as the "silent killer"? Ovaries may not be as cute as breasts but ovaries actually help to perpetuate the species which makes them far more valuable than breasts. And symptoms of ovarian cancer often do not appear until it's almost too late. I remember one day in the infusion center, my chemo roommate had ovarian cancer. She told me that she had been extremely bloated for MONTHS and finally took herself to the E.R. Well, the doctor sent her home with some Maalox and that was it. After she pursued it further, her diagnosis was grim. <strong>Ovarian Cancer Awareness Month</strong> is in September, yet you hardly hear about it. <br />
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Because ovaries aren't cute. But breasts <em>are.</em><br />
<em></em><br />
Don't get me wrong, I want a cure and I want to find the CAUSE for breast cancer just as much, if not more than the next gal. But the whole month of October is just too much for me. I just have to wonder, if breasts weren't so cute and revered, would we be swimming in a sea of Pepto this month? I really don't think so.<br />
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It has become such a circus. A big, fat, pink circus and the message is lost. Breast cancer is not cute and frilly and fun. It's the opposite of all of those things, as are <em>all</em> cancers. They suck, all of them. <br />
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Yet this month finds people going "braless for a cause". I still don't know how one's sacrificing her underwire for a day, helps those of us who no longer require an underwire! How exactly does your bouncing bosom help raise awareness and find a cure? It only sexualizes a deadly disease. And it causes car accidents.<br />
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Or we are subjected to tacky, disrespectful and insensitive PSAs from the Susan G. Komen crew. <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NtkIDkGJc_Q" target="_blank">Click here to see it</a>. You won't believe your eyes. I promise. <br />
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So, this month and every month, I want to honor and remember everyone who has or had any type of cancer. To my friends with brain cancer, skin cancer, prostate cancer, ovarian cancer, uterine cancer, lung cancer, bladder cancer, or cancer of the tushy, you all deserve so much more attention. Every color needs a cure. <br />
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Movember can't come fast enough. <br />
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Becky's Big Byteshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03160647325073470441noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-653774121428975120.post-9543236987421154672014-10-04T08:12:00.002-07:002014-10-04T08:24:51.819-07:00You Say Pinktober, I say......I <span style="font-family: inherit;">am starting to not like the color pink. I used to (sort of) love it but now that Breast Cancer Awareness Month has started, the color reminds me more and more of the pink stuff you take for diarrhea. So, now I am calling this month....</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><strong>Peptober</strong></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">(After a Google search, it turns out that: "<em>We did not find any results for <strong>peptober" </strong></em>so I am proud to call it mine now.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">And the name really is fitting because every time I see another story about a woman with breast cancer, I feel nauseous and I might have to hit the John....<em>hard. </em>I just can't take another sad story!!!</span><br />
<em><span style="font-family: inherit;"></span></em><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">So, that is why I'm writing today. You will hear a lot this month about how mammograms SAVE lives! Get your TaTas checked! Go Braless for a cause! Buy this pink can of Campbell's soup and you will help save a life! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Ok, let's all get a grip, shall we? I will address Peptober in greater detail and all of the "PinkWashing" out there in some later blogs. Today, I want to talk about mammograms.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">First I will say, I am not a doctor and I do not want anyone taking medical advice from me. I am just sharing my experience and want you all to learn from it and share it with your people.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Unlike Joan Lunden and Amy Robach of Good Morning America, my mammogram did<em> not</em> save my life. In fact, my mammogram lied to me for several years. I never missed a mammogram and every year when I went, I was told I had "</span><a href="http://www.areyoudense.org/" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: inherit;">dense breasts</span></a><span style="font-family: inherit;">". And every year, even prior to age 40, my Ob Gyn would do a breast exam and declare, "You have very dense breasts". I never once thought anything of this because the doc always just left it at that. In fact, I thought having dense breasts was a good thing so I took it as a compliment!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">And then December 2012 came and there were the lumps and the crease on the side of my very dense breast. I went for a mammogram and was told, "All clear, come back in a year!" Well, if you've been following along, you know that was a big, fat hairy lie, too. It turned out that my tumors were detectable on the ultrasound I had following this "good mammo", after I pushed for it. (My instincts knew something was wrong.)</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><em><strong>Here's the deal with dense breasts, so listen up:</strong></em></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Women with dense breasts (meaning you have less fat in your breasts) have a 40-50% higher chance of <em>getting</em> breast cancer AND up to 50% of tumors in women with dense breasts go UNDETECTED by the mammograms. In fact, there are now laws in several states which require doctors to tell you about your dense breasts if you have them. And now further work needs to be done to make further tests like ultrasounds or MRIs to be covered by insurance.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Breast density is like mammogram's dirty little secret. Half of women over 40 have no idea that their "normal" mammogram might not be normal at all. It's like looking for a snowball in a snow storm! Cancer is white, and dense tissue is white. So, dense breast tissue can overlap with cancers, masking them from view. Secondly, dense tissue is the part of the breast that <strong>gets</strong> cancer, not fat, so there is a higher risk of getting cancer for women with dense breasts.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I am angry today and I'm sure it's totally a delayed reaction. But the more I think about this, the angrier I get. Doctors clearly knew of my dense breasts. They knew of my family history and yet, no one ever pushed any ultrasounds for me. I feel like with these kind of cards stacked against a woman, it should have at least been explained to me. At the very least, why were no statistics provided?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Researchers have been studying breast cancer for many years. This dense breast info is nothing new, but it was new to me. It's inexcusable to trust a mammogram on millions of women and give them a false sense of security, especially with these staggering statistics. I'm starting to feel like one of those people who believe there is a cure for cancer and the pharma companies are hiding it. With all of the information available, why are patients not empowered with this information? The paranoid lady in me thinks that this whole breast cancer epidemic is just one big money making business. See what's happened to me? I was never this jaded!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I know I cannot turn back the clock. If I could, who knows if I'd still have my breasts or not. It's too late now. But it may not be too late for you. I'm sure breast cancer is not on your radar and all of the hype this month may be just an excuse to wear pink, make pink cookies or have pink cocktails with your friends. <insert here="" sarcasm=""><insert here="" sarcasm="">Am I bitter? Yes. I am. But it's not just me I'm bitter about. I've lost some very dear people to this disease. Enough already! I can't bear to lose one more.</insert></insert></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">So, call this my way of spreading awareness this month. Sure, get that mammo, but <strong><em>go deeper</em></strong>. Find out if <em><strong>your</strong></em> breasts are dense. And if they are, <strong>insist</strong> on further testing. Don't be afraid to speak up and don't <strong>ever</strong> feel intimidated by any medical professional. I've given you the statistics so now it's up to <strong>you</strong> to take matters in your own hands. Breast self-exams, in my opinion are EQUALLY important and mine is what told me something was seriously wrong. And look at yourself in the mirror. Get to know yourself!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">And if you decide to wear pink this month, please make sure it doesn't resemble the Pepto variety.</span>Becky's Big Byteshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03160647325073470441noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-653774121428975120.post-36702783282993422032014-10-02T13:03:00.001-07:002014-10-02T13:03:20.526-07:00Two Wrongs Don't Make a Right (Yes, it's about boobs....again)I have a confession. <br />
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My last blog was originally written 4 months ago. I finally had the guts to publish it a few days ago, but now I must admit that this whole "peace process" isn't easy. Just when I think I've moved on and life has returned to "normal", I somehow regress. <br />
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It's nothing specific that causes this....no awful medical news, no major life events. In fact, life is pretty hunky dory. I've been back to work part-time at my corporate America job by day while freelance writing for a friend, and selling <a href="http://www.avaandersonnontoxic.com/rebeccanero" target="_blank">Ava Anderson Non-Toxic products.</a> (More to come on that one!). And even though my head is spinning sometimes, I am enjoying working again and keeping busier than ever....proof that there IS life after breast cancer. Thank you!<br />
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Life is moving forward and that feels good. But every so often, I start to feel really shitty about these implants. Having reconstructed breasts is strange and sometimes I feel like a store mannequin with the wrong body parts. Having implants after a mastectomy is not what people think it is. Dealing with ignorant questions and comments also makes this more difficult (thankfully, this rarely happens). Some people actually look at this as a "boob job" when nothing could be further from the truth. Being asked "<em>Why didn't you go bigger</em>?" or "<em>See, you got the boobs you always wanted!</em>" really does not help. This "boob job" is the result of cancer; not exactly the "fun" kind of plastic surgery. If I had my way, I'd take back my A cups any day of the week.<br />
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I always feel like I have to explain myself here so I'll do it again. Here is my obligatory declaration of gratitude:<br />
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<em><strong>I'm grateful to be alive and cancer free. I'm grateful I could even HAVE reconstruction, as some cannot.</strong></em><br />
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Yes, yes, yes. Grateful, Grateful, <em>Grateful</em>. BUT, it all just feels so......<br />
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WRONG. That's the word. <em>Wrong</em>. My body feels <em><strong>WRONG</strong></em>.<br />
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It feels odd, out of place, something-just-isn't-right kind of wrong. Like something is always strapped to my chest or I'm wearing 15 bras at once. And that feeling is never going to go away. From the outside, everyone says I look great and "<em>you would never know</em>". <br />
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But I know. And what I know is, this is not how I thought it would be, even after talking to so many women who have been through it. No one ever mentioned how <em>strange</em> it all feels. Why? I can't possibly be the only one feeling like this, can I? Could I be THE only girl who feels like a Smart Car with monster truck-sized tires? <br />
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(This is no indication of how big my new ones are, just an analogy of something that is ill fitting, got it?).<br />
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Which is why I am taking a chance by publishing this blog. To let you fellow Pinkies out there know that if you, too, feel "wrong", then it's OK. Sometimes we are too afraid to talk about these feelings because we fear that we may sound ungrateful. Well, here's a reality check for you. Having your breasts removed from your body is not normal. Having implants is not normal. Just because thousands of women are doing it to save their lives, still doesn't make it normal. No one should <em>ever</em> feel guilty for missing some previously beloved body parts that were surgically removed. Give yourself permission to miss them. And give your spouse permission too, because they are also grieving the old you. And that's OK too. They are allowed, just as you are.<br />
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I don't know when my Wrong self will feel Right again. I hope sooner than later. In the mean time, I will accept this as part of the journey (God, I really am tired of that word!) and I hope that my new tires will help me to keep moving forward.<br />
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Becky's Big Byteshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03160647325073470441noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-653774121428975120.post-63752588591722130612014-09-29T17:51:00.003-07:002014-09-29T17:51:42.610-07:00Let There Be Peace in My Bra<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><em>Peace Be With You</em></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"></span><br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">These words just spilled out of my mouth a few months ago as I stood there in front of the bathroom mirror, birthday suit and all. I guess that I'd been saying and feeling so many bad things about my body that my inner child (who was always the peace maker) decided to put an end to it. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"></span><br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><em>Peace Be With You</em>. These are the words we always say in church and it happens to be my favorite part of going to church. I did not grow up in a very churchy family. We rarely went but when we did, I always loved the little adrenaline rush I got from saying "<em>Peace be with you". </em> I still love it and even if I'm in a bad mood, this always brings me out of it, even if for only a little while. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Accepting the uncontrollable situations in life is hard. We fight, we challenge, we feel so tormented inside. It's a rotten way to live your life, in a constant state of distress. I just can't do it anymore. It's taking too much of a toll on me and it's robbing me of living the life I was meant to live.</span><br />
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<br /><span style="font-family: inherit;">So peace be with me.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"></span><br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">After I made the peace sign with my new breasts (and also realizing that I should stop calling them "Foobs" because that, too, makes them feel more irrelevant to me when they shouldn't be), I started looking at them differently and truly, they are now starting to grow on me (pun intended). </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">It's sort of like that loud, Italian family who is leery of the fair skinned Irish girl the son brings home to Sunday dinner. It completely rocks their world, just like these Foobs have done to me. But once they get to know her, they welcome her into the family with open arms.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"></span><br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><em>Peace be with you.</em></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"></span><br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">It doesn't only apply to me and my boobs. You can use it too....I don't care. It's not like a million dollar patented invention like the Snuggie, so peace out!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"></span><br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Is something giving you grief? Your jiggly thighs, your stomach, your hair, a negative coworker, bad relationship, a sucky job?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"></span><br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Say it with me. <em>Peace be with you</em>. And then move on. Some things cannot be changed, instantly or at all so make peace with it. And then move on. Don't waste anymore precious energy on things that cannot be changed or you have zero control over. Who knew that my Boob Self Talk could be such a healthy step in the right direction in so many areas of my life?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"></span><br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I wish you all peace, every day, in any way you can find it.</span></div>
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Becky's Big Byteshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03160647325073470441noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-653774121428975120.post-84715664613536132272014-06-08T14:32:00.001-07:002014-06-18T13:28:39.725-07:00Accepting The New Girls on the Block<div><i>"If you can't be with the one you love, love the one you're with. Love the one you're with."</i></div><div><i><br></i></div><div><i>(This quote is about your breasts, not your life partner)</i></div><div><br></div><div>So, when I had the double mastectomy, I was so drugged up, I really did not mourn my breasts and was just focused on resting, recovering, emptying my drains (gross!). Then during the expansion process, I was so uncomfortable for 5 months, I didn't focus on how I looked. I kept looking forward to the "exchange surgery" on April Foobs Day when the bionic boobs would be exchanged for the silicone implants. I was excited as that day signaled the end of a long and painful journey. The new me was about to emerge.</div><div><br></div><div>The surgery went great. My doc almost put the wrong size in though, and a courier had to drive to a different hospital to get the CORRECT size for me. That courier thought someone was playing an April Fool's Day joke on him by asking him to pick up someone's new breasts. No joke!</div><div><br></div><div>The day after I got home from the hospital, I took a shower. When I looked down, suddenly I felt normal again. My doctor had fashioned a nipple from my own skin (go to youtube and search "modified skate flap" to see how it's done). Much later on, a tattooed areola will be permanently done by a man named Lenny with a patch over one eye and a tattoo on his forearm that says, <i>"I love Mom".</i></div><div><br></div><div>I have to say that from my bird's eye view looking down that day, everything looked perfect. I couldn't see the scabs and the scars. All I could see were 2 real looking breasts and what looked like my old nipples. For a split second, I felt like the cancer and all that had happened in the previous year never happened. It was quite surreal, just feeling normal again. I felt whole again. I felt like there was hope for healing. I felt like crying, I was so damn happy.</div><div><br></div><div>And then weeks went by and the reality set in. I still felt like these implants, as permanent as they are, were just another temporary thing. It finally hit me that I would never see the old ones again. Then I started feeling stuck and sad, hence the counseling appointments! (See prior blog)</div><div><br></div><div>In addition to counseling, I sought out the advice from my pink sisters. Chances are always great that someone relates to exactly how I'm feeling. Well, one bright, shining, half glass full girl named Amber looks at her new breasts differently. She said that her old breasts tried to kill her and she worked too damn hard (between surgeries, chemo, etc) for her NEW breasts, that she grew to like them. She's super happy with the way she looks and she views her breasts as part of her now. Amber has moved forward.</div><div><br></div><div>However, everyone is different and to compare your emotional reactions to someone else's is not helpful. It just puts more pressure on you to feel happy, causing you to feel like a failure. Having said that though, many can learn from Amber and I am trying my damndest to accept my new breasts. </div><div><br></div><div>One of my other Pinkies named Pazit, treats them more like an accessory. I call them their own entity. In fact, I have no problem showing people because technically, I feel like they're not really mine. Dear lord, I even showed them to my therapist last week (she's a woman, but still, I'm worried I may have boundary issues now). I may need to get a Groupon for all of these visits!</div><div><br></div><div>How do women come to fully embrace these new breasts? I don't know. Should I have some sort of ceremony for them? A coming out party? Should I faithfully tell them how much I love them every day? Should I find a good hypnotist?</div><div><br></div><div>Only time will tell.</div><div><br></div><div>One more thing. We feel guilty for feeling this way, you know. We always feel the need to say how grateful we are and lucky to be alive and that these things are just superficial. In fact, I was in the shower today and suddenly I heard the Bee Gees singing, to the tune of "You should be dancing":</div><div><br></div><div><i>"You should be grateful. Yah! You should be grateful, Yah!"</i></div><div><i><br></i></div><div><i><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjSm-AO51pGQFT6JSXkl1d53UTJUVuK47xHj8mvueMqzhgp6eZMkwB9uXoPdm8n2y8U0ZWkL1q3ZOIEh_TVpxe4QNc15E_ubMDILXiYkkfU4b8r_plraXc-qDun8vURB-A7GcUo2YvhHQ/s640/blogger-image-2064827321.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjSm-AO51pGQFT6JSXkl1d53UTJUVuK47xHj8mvueMqzhgp6eZMkwB9uXoPdm8n2y8U0ZWkL1q3ZOIEh_TVpxe4QNc15E_ubMDILXiYkkfU4b8r_plraXc-qDun8vURB-A7GcUo2YvhHQ/s640/blogger-image-2064827321.jpg"></a></div></i></div><div><br></div><div>Listen, give it a rest, Brothers Gibb. We <i>are </i>grateful and we need not feel guilty for feeling sad about some very important body parts gone M.I.A.</div><div><br></div><div>In summary: As you can see, if you are struggling with the same feelings as moi, you can tell that I have not been much help. This whole experience is like on the job training. I've never done this before either. I'm like that awful waitress who keeps spilling coffee on your lap. </div><div><br></div><div>But one of these days, I am going to get it right. I have hope that my coffee cup will be half full, just like Amber's.</div><div><br></div><div><br></div>Becky's Big Byteshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03160647325073470441noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-653774121428975120.post-21958580094079545712014-06-08T10:13:00.000-07:002014-06-08T10:13:01.193-07:00Now What? Coping With the Aftershocks of Breast Cancer<span style="font-family: inherit;">Some days, I'm so damn happy, I feel like Mary Poppins with Pop Rocks in my undies. Other days, I feel like a morose and apathetic teenager, slouched over my desk in detention hall. Such is the emotional roller coaster of the "Now What?" after breast cancer.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">My doctors have told me to move forward, live my life, and stop worrying. I have a 90% chance of never having a recurrence. Pretty darn good odds. Cause for celebration. Rah. Rah.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Then why do I feel so unsettled and stuck? If I had a band, it would be called "No Direction". I feel sad, forgetful, foggy, and sometimes I just don't care about anything. I'm not curled up into a ball with the covers over my head and the shades drawn. No, I am very high functioning and to the outside world and many family and friends, I am just fine. The funny part is that I'm doing everything humanly possible to help me to feel good. I exercise at least 5 days/week. I take yoga classes. I eat well. I say no to things that serve no purpose to me, and I say yes to the things that do. One would think that all of this tender loving self care would have a positive influence on my psyche but not so much. Imagine if I didn't do all those wonderful things? Yikes!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I have been told that all of my feelings are perfectly normal. Some have compared these post breast cancer feelings to Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Like war veterans, we have flashbacks too. We hear of a friend being diagnosed or we reach a special "Cancerversary". It all comes flooding back and we relive everything like it's happening to us again. That feeling of constantly being under a terrorist attack is hard to break from and for me, the first sign is my throat starts to close up. Then the downward spiral begins, again.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I suppose I could keep these private feelings private. However, I find that when I put it out into the universe, I feel better for releasing it. I also know that at least one other person on this earth also feels the same way. So, I'm willing to take this risk. I realize it's a vulnerable place to be; you knowing my innermost feelings. It's like reading my diary. If it helps you or someone you know, then I'm willing to share. There's nothing worse than feeling alone with your feelings. It's like standing on an island by yourself but you must know, <strong>you are not alone if you are feeling the way I do. </strong></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Every day I find myself asking this same question. <em>What. Just. Happened? </em></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">It's still very hard to wrap my brain around so many events and bodily changes in an 11 month period. Did it really happen? How could I have had cancer? Doesn't cancer happen to other people? You'd think by now, it would feel real, but no. It's all so very weird!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">People have joked to me about finally getting the "boobs I've always wanted". While it may sound like a cute and funny thing to say, these really AREN'T the boobs I've always wanted. Breasts should have feeling in them. These don't. Breasts shouldn't feel like they are "attached to you". These do. I finally realized after my last surgery that I am stuck with these forever, unless of course, I decide to have them removed, which isn't an option for me right now. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Looking at this very changed body every day is hard. Some days it's OK but others? I'm very sad that this is the way it has to be. I know I made the right choice to save my life and have no regrets. But it's still hard. And yes, I'm still grateful. (Why do I feel like I need to keep saying that? Isn't it kind of obvious that I'm grateful?) But I'm allowed to be sad about what will never come back.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">After trying to sort everything out in my own head for too long and only making things much worse (that's what anxiety does. It completely spirals out of control if you don't stop it!), I finally took the leap and went to see a counselor last week. She told me that she sees women who've had breast cancer and never sought therapy until 5-10 years after their bc journey. She said they have a much harder time understanding why they feel so emotionally horrid and don't even connect the dots back to their breast cancer. Wow. Imagine holding it in for years and years?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I'm glad I took the leap to counseling. My friend told me that the strongest people seek help, so I guess I am strong. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I am certainly not ashamed of it and I encourage anyone who is struggling with anything in their life, not just a disease, to seek help for it. No one should live a life in pain and silence. And thank you Jesus, I found a therapist who uses the "F" word on occasion. Phew...</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">One more thing from my therapist. As we talked about the new breasts and trying to adjust to the loss of the old ones, she said, "It sounds like you need to welcome the new ones into your body and accept them as a part of you", (of course, I'm paraphrasing because I can't remember shit anymore!). I never really thought of it like that and now, going forward, that is on my "to do" list every day: Try to accept things now as they are and learn to love the new and strange parts of me, along with the old and strange parts of me.</span><br />
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I know it's going to take time and thankfully, time is on my side now. In my next blog, I will delve a little deeper into rolling out the welcome mat for my new breasts. Stay tuned!</div>
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Becky's Big Byteshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03160647325073470441noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-653774121428975120.post-3328619431183444732014-05-10T11:15:00.001-07:002014-05-10T13:45:59.190-07:00Putting the "Bra" in Brave<div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">People have said I am so brave. I don't really agree with that. I basically have done what anyone else in my position would have done. Throughout parts of it, I screamed, cried, or closed my eyes and knew it would be over at some point. I never really felt brave while going through it. I just <em>did</em> it and if you think you couldn't handle what I went through, you could and you will if you have to. I am not that special. It's just about survival. If you are told your odds of recurrence will be lowered if you do everything in the protocol, then you do it. Don't fuck around with your life, just because you are scared of needles, going bald, or feeling sick for a few months, or longer!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">OK, now that <i>that is</i> out of the way. I want to talk about real bravery.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Here is an example. This beautiful woman, Beth Whaanga had breast cancer. She posted this picture on Facebook to show the world, (or simply, her network of friends), what the body looks like after undergoing multiple surgeries and treatments to try and make it whole again. Her surgeries included a double mastectomy, TRAM flap reconstruction and a hysterectomy.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">After she posted this picture, 103 people "unfriended" her. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">(By the way, she's had 4 kids! I personally thing she looks friggin amazing!)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Would you unfriend her? Or would you just scroll down past it because it's too upsetting?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Because I am engrossed in the world of Breast Cancer, pictures like this neither bother nor shock me. They are a fact of my life. However, there are some out there who just don't get it. They feel these pictures are too disturbing, unnecessary, and not helpful to anyone. I recall one person comparing a mastectomy picture to a car accident victim and why would anyone need to see that? Apples and oranges, my friends! On one recent thread about this very topic, a man said that decency has gone out the window. I think he views women like the above as slutty exhibitionists while nothing could be further from the truth.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">The majority of people commenting on pictures like the one above, <em>do</em> get it and offer support and encouragement. They probably had breast cancer or had a family or friend with bc. If they have no connection to breast cancer, then it's easy for them to say that these pictures are not helpful. But I'm writing this blog today to explain why they are, in fact, helpful to <em>everyone </em>and not just the patients.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">1. <b>The general population has no idea what a mastectomy and reconstruction entails.</b> Unless they have a close family member or friend who is willing to lift their shirt (like moi), they will believe that a woman goes in for surgery and comes out with new breasts. <i>Having a mastectomy with recon is not comparable to someone who keeps their breasts and simply goes in for augmentation. </i>There are often multiple surgeries and procedures involved and the end result may not even be good. There is pain, numbness, swelling, inability to lift, stretch, drive. Some women endure numerous infections, causing major delays, more pain, and heartache. It not only messes with the physical self. It damages her spirit and her spark. Some women cannot even have recon due to so many complications. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">She may look OK on the outside, but underneath the clothing she is like a patched up quilt in the beginning. Nipples are gone, sensation in the skin is gone or if she's lucky, it returns here and there. And yes, she is still happy to be alive through it all. Please keep in mind that not everyone has complications and the recon process more often goes smoothly (I am in this category, thankfully!). I am not here to scare anyone who may be facing one of these surgeries. But the reality is, trying to look "normal" again is a work in progress, to say the least. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">2. <b>The newly diagnosed woman who is getting ready for a mastectomy needs to see these pictures. </b>Speaking from experience, pictures like these helped me cope with the aftermath a lot better. It completely removed the mystery and fear. Thank you </span><a href="http://www.stupiddumbbreastcancer.com/shop/" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Stupid Dumb Breast Cancer</span></a><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"> for helping me! Your fearless posts have helped THOUSANDS of women. You are doing a great service to all of those scared women who don't think they can do this. God bless you!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">3. <b>At some point, everyone will know someone with breast cancer. </b>Because it is such an epidemic, chances are more than "good" that you will have a friend, cousin, mother, daughter, sister, wife, aunt or co-worker with breast cancer. How do these pictures help you? Well, in my opinion, it helps <b>you</b> to help the patient. It gives you some insight as to what her body has endured and you may also handle her differently. By that I mean, understand why she may be depressed, withdrawn, cranky, angry, or sad. She has lost her previous self and she will never get it back no matter how good her surgeon is. She may look and act fine on the outside but on the inside, she may be crumbling at times. She still looks forward though, trying hard not to dwell. She has a grateful heart and with time, she will get used to her new self because she is a warrior!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">4. <b>Lastly, these pictures are good come "Pinktober": Breast Cancer Awareness Month</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Sure, people can wear pink, go bra less, take selfies without makeup, buy products that claim they are donating a nickel from each sale to breast cancer, but do these things TRULY raise awareness about this disease? I think these "shocking and disturbing" photos are much more effective in getting the message out there. They are raw, honest, and human. If we wish to raise funds to eradicate breast cancer, then we need to attach a face and a body to it; a body that has endured and continues to fight.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">And to those who cannot handle looking at the "indecent" pictures, I encourage you to just scroll past them because clearly, you can't handle the truth about breast cancer and you know nothing of this battle. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times;">But for those faced with this diagnosis? Look at the pictures before your surgery, even if it's difficult. Knowledge is power. Also, talk to women who have been through it, and message me if you want and I'll be happy to talk to you. No one should travel this road alone. Thanks to Beth in the above picture, many women will be a little less frightened. For that, I thank her!</span></div>
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Becky's Big Byteshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03160647325073470441noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-653774121428975120.post-76667630627297280192014-04-01T06:41:00.001-07:002014-04-01T15:49:17.971-07:00Rah Rah for Ta-Tas! Becky's New Boobs Are BornToday is the day! April Foob's Day has arrived! If you haven't been reading my posts on Facebook, here it is. Today is the "exchange surgery". This means that the silicone, temporary expanders inside my chest will be taken out and swapped out for softer, silicone implants. I have had the expanders in since October 18, when my double mastectomy was performed. In the beginning, they were hard to get used to. In the middle, I got used to them. Now, I feel like if I have to go one more day with these mothers in my chest, I'm going to have a breakdown. I can't do yoga anymore, sleeping is next to impossible and I honestly look freaky now. I feel like I have 2 cantaloupes strapped to my chest at all times.<br />
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I am so done. And considering today is April Fool's Day, I've renamed it as <b>April Foobs Day.</b> I Googled this left and right and I do not believe anyone has coined this day as such. Now, it is official. You heard it here first, my darlings.</div>
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So, I look upon this day as the final chapter in my trilogy of surgeries. First, there was the lumpectomy, then the mastectomy, and now, we've come full circle with making me as whole as I can be with the new girls. I've been very lucky up until this point, having had zero complications, infections, or bumps in the road. I know some women are not so lucky and this process can take much, much longer, causing heartache, pain, and disappointment. I know they soldier on, in whatever way they need to, as there really is no other choice. </div>
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Choice. It's a good thing, right? I made my choice to have the double because my lumpectomy surgery showed there was extensive DCIS still present outside the margins. Despite one of my doctor's suggestions to "do more tissue removal" and radiate it, I concluded (with the help of my awesome plastic surgeon) that I would still need reconstructive surgery either way. It was a hard decision but I knew it was the only one that made sense for me. The doctor who wanted to do tissue removal actually said, "You know, there's something to be said for the natural state of a woman's breast".</div>
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Whaat? Did he really say that? Yes, he did. And I was too in shock at the time to even respond. Did he think I was doing all this to get a free boob job? Sure, I'd love to be able to feel my natural breasts once again and have some sensation. However, if those breasts are out to kill me, then they're really not worth keeping now, are they? Don't make me feel worse by saying a natural breast is "better". </div>
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They say, "Don't look back. You're not going there". And, "If you don't bury the past, the past will bury you." I really love these 2 quotes. There is no turning back time now, and that's cool because I feel that the worst is behind me now and the future is full of hope and promise, even without my natural breasts. </div>
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My previously slightly saggy A cups are being upgraded now. I'm trading up and I deserve it. Stay tuned for the "after" blog and thank you for reading and supporting me. You are all like a great bra! </div>
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Becky's Big Byteshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03160647325073470441noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-653774121428975120.post-72714316440213143462014-03-17T19:42:00.000-07:002014-03-17T19:46:48.630-07:00Another Blog Where I say F*CK and Fat<div>
Losing weight while taking Tamoxifen is like:</div>
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A. Shoveling shit against the tide</div>
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B. Cleaning up after your kids while they are in the middle of playing</div>
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C. Shoveling snow during a blizzard</div>
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D. Being a one legged man in an ass kicking contest</div>
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(credit my big brother for that last one)</div>
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All of the above, my friends. </div>
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I need to talk about this topic because it's been weighing heavily on me for too long. Well, actually, just a few short months but it feels like an eternity since I was thin. I wish I knew how skinny I was when I thought I was fat, if that makes any sense, because now I am technically obese and way out of my recommended weight range. Forty pounds over to be exact.</div>
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I went to my doctor 2 months ago and all we talked about was my weight. He kept trying to drill into my head that I need to "<i>Break through my exhaustion</i>" and exercise because not only will I feel better and lose weight, but I'll start to sleep better too, which helps the exhaustion cycle. Now, I am not stupid. I have a scale and a mirror, both of which haunt me daily. I have never been this overweight in my life (not counting 2 pregnancies where I gained 42 lbs each time, but then eventually lost it.) And to all those girls who are trying to shed baby weight? I really have no sympathy for you! Sorry. That was a fucking piece of cake compared to this.</div>
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Did someone just say "cake"?</div>
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Anyway, with each chemo cycle I gained 5 lbs. There is 20 lbs, right there. There were 3 days of steroids for each chemo cycle which certainly did not help. Then, chemo ended and I had a "break". A month later, I had a bilateral mastectomy and my most strenuous form of exercise was doing arm circles in the shower. Two weeks after the surgery, I started on Tamoxifen and since then, 20 more lbs have been added for a grand total of 40 extra pounds. (Peppered in between all of that was Halloween, Thanksgiving, and Christmas, just sayin.) Now, there are some girls (I know of only 3, and I know a LOT of pink ladies!), who never gained an ounce. In fact, they lost weight. Just so you know, if they weren't such nice people, I'd hate them and I don't know why some gain and some don't. But the majority of women who are in my age group or older have gained weight. We are the peri-meno or menopausal women. The cards are stacked against us. We are thrust into instant menopause and suddenly, we have these fucking bellies that popped out of nowhere. Not a day goes by where I am not grunting and groaning every time I bend over, get out of bed, or haul my ass off the toilet. That alone is a fucking workout! Trust me, all the skinny cancer patients you see in the movies must have another form of cancer. </div>
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I told my doctor, "<i>I'm a skinny person trapped in a fat person's body!</i>" He thought this was hysterical. Sure. He has a fucking 32 inch waist and has no idea what I am dealing with. Twerp.</div>
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Can you tell I am angry? I am. I've really not been angry throughout this "journey" but now I am. I could deal with all the garbage this journey put on my lap. But now, being fat after all that I had to go through, well, it's just a big kick in the tits! And again, I'm speaking for many. It's not just me. We have been through enough already and now, we are supposed to deal with this next mountain in front of us when we are not only sapped of energy and strength but we are dealing with mood changing drugs, unpredictable appetites, strange body aches, crazy cravings, trying to get back to "normal", whatever the hell that is. And yes, sure, let's just plow through and lose 40 lbs now.</div>
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So, I'm doing everything I can to lose weight. I joined the LiveStrong program at the Y. I've been working out 4-5 days/week, sometimes more. I've cut way back on sweets, eating more fresh fruits and veggies. I even make my own granola! And do you know what? I think my granola was making me fat. Sure, it was homemade, but it had maple syrup and coconut oil; all well and good, but I am not really known for my portion control so a few too many handfuls during a stressful <b>Breaking Bad</b>'athon and the next day the scale would be scorning me, once again. Sometimes it seems I just look at food the wrong way and I gain weight.</div>
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But I am determined. Not only do I HATE being fat, I do not want to spend money on new summer clothes. So, I took my journey a step further and signed on to <a href="http://www.myfitnesspal.com/" target="_blank">MyFitnessPal</a>, again. It's a lot like Weight Watchers, only it's free. Plus, you can add your friends and cheer each other on as you add in your exercise for the day and track your food. It's very easy to use and keeps me conscious, once again.</div>
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I had this blog in a draft and wrote it when I really was angry. I've since turned my anger into action because hanging on to anger, stress, bitterness, and "why me", does not do a body good. Cancer cells despise happy people but it loves miserable ones. </div>
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I look back on pictures from the beginning, just 10 short months ago. The girl on the left was skinny and she had cancer. The girl on the right? She is cancer free. Which one would you choose to be?</div>
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I choose me. Now.</div>
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Becky's Big Byteshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03160647325073470441noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-653774121428975120.post-56355083868111210862014-02-26T09:29:00.002-08:002014-02-26T09:33:58.506-08:00Pink Sisters Going Viral!I never really ask my readers to do anything for me, except well, read my blog. I always hope that it entertains or gets people to think about things they don't normally think about, like how to use a (clean) peeled maxi pad to unlock a frozen car door in a crisis. You know, the important stuff!<br>
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If you are in a hurry and don't have time to read the back story below, <a href="http://youtu.be/B0S1bY4EdEc" target="_blank">just click on this link and watch this video. And then, please share it with at least 10 friends!</a> Hint: Dancing boobs and some really hot bald chicks to inspire and entertain you! Now just watch it! It's less than 5 minutes.<br>
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Today, I'm asking for a favor on behalf of 238 women. They are all Breast Cancer survivors, warriors, and overcomers. They are great ladies ranging from 20's up to 60's. They are from the U.S, Canada, the U.K., Australia and beyond! They are mothers, wives, daughters, sisters, and aunties. They matter to a lot of people, including me. They are my friends. </div>
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<div>We are the Pink Sisters.<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNzY2znfSvcbVfWszE7eyJK_z1O6EUrTNYcS-s-h2z3D-plzc63opkz7G1dZUsLJfb_IAGLSBYNMker3KyuyTX9s1no1VqLhVz5ea6DPQ1hA4yKwbC1xMfoPl1a7H22i3SnHAr8hEL6kA/s640/blogger-image-1259005912.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNzY2znfSvcbVfWszE7eyJK_z1O6EUrTNYcS-s-h2z3D-plzc63opkz7G1dZUsLJfb_IAGLSBYNMker3KyuyTX9s1no1VqLhVz5ea6DPQ1hA4yKwbC1xMfoPl1a7H22i3SnHAr8hEL6kA/s640/blogger-image-1259005912.jpg"></a></div></div>
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(Ok, this isn't exactly what we look like. However, some of us would love these outfits on any given day if we are having a really bad hair/bald day and our old clothes no longer fit us.) If you want to see the REAL PINK SISTERS, watch the video!</div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br></span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">I met them on Facebook early on in my BC journey. It happened quite by accident when I got my iPad from my family and friends after my diagnosis. I was exploring apps that might be helpful to me and I found one called "Beyond the Shock". It was my go to place for answers during a time when everything was so overwhelming and confusing. From time to time, I would post a question and other ladies would answer me with their experience. What I loved about the group is that no one told you what to do or was giving medical advice. Just shared experiences and I never felt alone.</span></div><div><br>
Then, a few girls on the site mentioned there was a private Facebook page called the <b><span style="color: magenta;">Pink Sisters</span></b>. It was more of a personal group where we could get to know each other better aside from breast cancer. So, I was added to the group by a lovely girl named Leah. Thanks Leah!</div>
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Since then, I have remained in daily contact with these girls. Being the Facebook junkie that I am, I check in with them first thing every morning, even before my morning coffee. I've gotten to know many of these ladies virtually. Some of them are from my home state but most are not. I've even Facetimed with a few and have had great laughs getting to know them. We pray for each other when one is undergoing a surgery or scary treatment. We ask the strange questions we are afraid to ask our doctors and we don't feel so freaky. That's all I'll say about that topic. For now. The Pink Sisters just "get it"; the good, the bad, the ugly. <i>Nothing</i> is off limits!</div>
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So, how can you help us? Well, the Pink Sisters would LOVE to meet in person. We know that is next to impossible considering our geographical situation! But, one wise sister thought it would be a great idea to contact Ellen Degeneres to see if she would fly us out there to be on her show during the month of October, Breast Cancer Awareness month. We want to fill her audience with breast cancer survivors and their families so we embarked on a letter writing campaign and we also made <a href="http://youtu.be/B0S1bY4EdEc" target="_blank">this YouTube video</a> to show the faces of breast cancer. One thing all of these women have in common is they smile, even during the worst times! <span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Their strength and courage help keep me going when I get down.</span></div>
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We are asking all of our family and friends to watch and <a href="http://youtu.be/B0S1bY4EdEc" target="_blank">share the video</a>. We have contacted Ellen's show already and gone through the proper channels. However, we really don't know if they will contact us. We need to be politely persistent and hope you can help spread the word by making this video go VIRAL! So, please take a moment to watch and share this inspiring piece!<br>
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Listen. If Sophia Grace and Rosie can get on Ellen for drinking tea in their tutus, then so can my Pink Sisters! Won't you help us realize our dream? Thank you so much!</div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTilnBT6Z4ooMCGQrr2YUYO9sX2gcQ6EzC37JOvXAnsg-q5LftDF4sejxRWM0gS8crp4_jc9vcIkYheKsCBIQj3IvaW4HZ-0WGQ-j7cFVf0qIZ4Mfr2a0elA36giN9oe1AOYd_NsUpseo/s640/blogger-image-2048809212.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTilnBT6Z4ooMCGQrr2YUYO9sX2gcQ6EzC37JOvXAnsg-q5LftDF4sejxRWM0gS8crp4_jc9vcIkYheKsCBIQj3IvaW4HZ-0WGQ-j7cFVf0qIZ4Mfr2a0elA36giN9oe1AOYd_NsUpseo/s640/blogger-image-2048809212.jpg"></a></div><br>
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Becky's Big Byteshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03160647325073470441noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-653774121428975120.post-13895890081791474822014-02-12T07:23:00.001-08:002014-02-12T14:49:34.045-08:00The Blog Where I say F*CK a LOTYou know what I hear a lot? These words:<br />
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People seem to love the raw, honest truth. I'm not so sure you are going to like hearing my following honesty and if you are offended by the F word, then you might want to find one of those mommy scrapbooking blogs to balance out all the naughtiness you are about to read. </div>
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I do believe honesty is important 99% of the time. For example. I recently bought a dress which was very beautiful and at a great price. This was for an upcoming wedding. When I tried it on in the store, I tried to convince myself that it looked good on me. Considering I'm dealing with a 35 lb weight gain, I thought this is the way my fat self was supposed to look. Something inside me didn't really love how it looked but I bought it anyway. I later tried it on for my friend Michelle, who should really get on "<b>What Not to Wear"</b> as a consultant. As soon as that dress was over my head, she said, "NO, that's not the right cut on you." <span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">I have to say, for a split second, the truth hurt. But then I got over it. She was so right and then offered up one of her many dresses for me to wear to the wedding. She could have totally lied to my face (like the sales girl did), but a good friend is honest. I think everyone needs a friend like Michelle!</span></div>
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Having said that, I'm now going to be honest about my hair and how I feel about it. I fucking hate it. Yes, I fucking <i>hate </i>it, most of the time. Like 98% of the time.</div>
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Before it grew back, people would say: "<i>You know, my friend had cancer and when her hair grew back it was so curly!" No SHIT SHERLOCK! I never heard THAT one before! Thank you for the heads up!! I did not know that it could grow back curly!</i></div>
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I'd like to respond to that statement sometime with:</div>
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"<i>Yes, it's amazing how it grows back curly on my head, but did you know my pubic bush is poker straight?"</i></div>
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That'll fix 'em. What is up with that anyway? Pubes are supposed to be curly, dammit! Now it's like they fucking took up residency on my head!</div>
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I know what you are thinking and what you would say to me now. </div>
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"<i>Becky, you look elegant!"</i></div>
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<i>"I think you are stunning"</i></div>
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I have just one question for you and please, take no offense.</div>
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Are you high? Do you REALLY think this hair do is pretty? Or are you saying that to make me feel good and you're just happy not to look at my bald head anymore?</div>
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(And where the fuck are my eyebrows?</div>
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A different friend named Michelle (also a Pink Sister), has often said, "<i>No one would CHOOSE to have this hair do if they had hair! Do people think I had it 'done' like this?" </i>She is right, would you go to a salon and ask for "<b>The Post Chemo Pubey Salt n Peppa Approaching Don King Curly</b>" do? Does this hairdo show up in ANY hair magazine on the planet? If so, I'd like to see it. </div>
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It's fucking ugly. It's not my color either. I used to be a strawberry blond. </div>
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I feel bad complaining about something so vain and trivial like hair. Yes, I am grateful every fucking day to be alive when some of my Pink Sisters are truly fighting for their lives right now. I have hair and life guilt and I know many women feel exactly like me. They, too, hate their hair and feel guilty talking about it. Well, I'm giving you all permission to bitch and moan away. It's ok. Cancer has robbed us of most of what makes us feel "feminine". Now we feel, dare I say this word, Butchy. </div>
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I got myself gussied up for the wedding the other night, doing my best to look like a girl. I look at the pictures of myself from that night and I just don't recognize me. I still have a hard time with this, I suppose. </div>
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A few blogs ago, I wrote about "Loving myself, no matter what". I still love myself, I just hate my hair. Does that make sense? </div>
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Next year at this time, I'm sure I will look back on this blog and laugh. I will probably be complaining about something new, like how my hair is making me hot or it costs too much to cut! </div>
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Becky's Big Byteshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03160647325073470441noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-653774121428975120.post-31153670161930824712014-01-14T11:43:00.005-08:002014-01-14T12:00:18.143-08:00Overcoming Cancer's Hairy SituationsI really hate my hair. <div><br></div><div>I know, I know, this is something you hear women say all the time. But this lady was recently bald. Her hair is growing back in full swing. I should be happy, right?</div><div><br></div><div>Well, at first, I was ECSTATIC. I chronicled every little wisp that sprouted up. That peach fuzz was endearing and cute. Until it started morphing into a salt and peppa 'Fro. Now, it's just plain Fugly. Yes, that's right. I'm going to sound like a whiny, complaining bitch for having hair on my head. You're probably saying to yourself, "<i>You should be happy it's growing</i>!" or, "<i>It's really pretty on you! If I didn't know you, I'd think you had it CUT that way!"</i></div><div><br></div><div>Oh, really? Do people really have their hair dyed and cut EXACTLY like this? Do people chose hairstyles like this? Let me tell you, it's only going to get worse if the curls keep curling. I can't seem to gel it, comb it or do ANYTHING with it. And please don't tell me to put a head band on because that's even sadder on this do. And my beloved hats that I loved a few months ago? I can't even stand the feel of them anymore. This hairdo is for the birds. Literally. In fact, I think a bird was nesting in there earlier today but I was too tired to disturb it.</div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyMUjh_yjkByP4H1OD4TAYmNzsrS22h6qr8WYNEu2dGYKnY5nqxY1EqeobwCDOSmVlLMSNj-wpZ93Nbs0oCYRHtFzFpSXbxLJxP9rGA0RkcR5d8pJuv53McEC9GWxwYmy881YH-xqiPNE/s640/blogger-image--837355726.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyMUjh_yjkByP4H1OD4TAYmNzsrS22h6qr8WYNEu2dGYKnY5nqxY1EqeobwCDOSmVlLMSNj-wpZ93Nbs0oCYRHtFzFpSXbxLJxP9rGA0RkcR5d8pJuv53McEC9GWxwYmy881YH-xqiPNE/s640/blogger-image--837355726.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div>I had counseled myself through baldness by saying to myself and others, <i>"Hair is so overrated. Every girl should be bald at least once in her life, just to feel how liberating it is! I may even STAY bald, or at least keep a very short hair do. I really don't miss my old hair. It was SUCH a pain in the ass to do. Don't let your hair DEFINE you."</i></div><div><br></div><div>Well, I believe every word of that to be true but now I just want to fast forward a few inches. I'm really not asking for Rapunzel. Nurse Jackie will do just fine!</div><div><br></div><div>When I was bald, this is what I heard:</div><div><br></div><div>"<i>You look great bald! I can really see your face now!"</i></div><div><i>"Don't ever have long hair again!"</i></div><div><i>"Your head is just so perfectly shaped!"</i></div><div><br></div><div>And people stared at me in public if I didn't wear a hat or scarf. The looks were mostly of pity, discomfort, or a little sadness. So, one day, while having coffee with my girlfriends, I made this sign. I said, "If I could make a T-Shirt, this is what it would say!"</div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIat-cUrzhccuw71lKxqPa016s2NaPnWG2mQ9VJgmRSuAEEWROAWPUQIVBfKOjhfDMqzJuEDG-J3Eind6cIbmCtbtE_PekygvTp46gF_LaT4UTd0Ej_xVcyGX_Tx4uoMBy03MxWMZO9b0/s640/blogger-image-813003505.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIat-cUrzhccuw71lKxqPa016s2NaPnWG2mQ9VJgmRSuAEEWROAWPUQIVBfKOjhfDMqzJuEDG-J3Eind6cIbmCtbtE_PekygvTp46gF_LaT4UTd0Ej_xVcyGX_Tx4uoMBy03MxWMZO9b0/s640/blogger-image-813003505.jpg"></a></div>(God, I really do have a nice head! And yes, middle fingers were intentional.)</div><div><br></div><div>Now, when I go out in public, people just stare at my hair. Like, "<i>Dear Lord, woman, who cut your hair, Stevie Wonder?"</i></div><div><br></div><div>And there's no hiding from it. It's pitiful. Yes, I know there are worse things in the world. Trust me, I get it. It's my blog and I'll vent if I want to.</div><div><br></div><div>My biggest fears are no longer about cancer. Do you know what I am scared of? That I'm going to look like a 32 year actress who plays a 14 year old Jewish boy named Jacob at his Bar Mitzvah. That is exactly where this hairdo is headed. See below.</div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKQHfW61bAU6mt7gxMVeaeJZN-gK9X4gT6NahligGndDV-KKMbIauTDVspPVDhhue0UVrfso5ZkiHkI4Wr3IIbgmFRu16Z9el13i_vCsB1i4pipPrbDFJXhCgIQqrjg9dOZuGMY_dLiUo/s640/blogger-image-155703195.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKQHfW61bAU6mt7gxMVeaeJZN-gK9X4gT6NahligGndDV-KKMbIauTDVspPVDhhue0UVrfso5ZkiHkI4Wr3IIbgmFRu16Z9el13i_vCsB1i4pipPrbDFJXhCgIQqrjg9dOZuGMY_dLiUo/s640/blogger-image-155703195.jpg"></a></div><div><br></div>Papa can you hear me? </div><div><br></div><div>I guess this hair growing process is another fucking metaphor for the "Cancer Journey". </div><div>There is no easy way <b>around</b> it and you just have to go <b>through</b> it. Things are going to get ugly, and strange, and wild. You can't skip past the chemo crapfest or the awkward curls.</div><div><br></div><div>Life, in general is like this. You'd like to fast forward through a <b>Jacob In Progress</b> but you can't. Keep your head held high, smile, and dab on some lipstick so you at least look like a girl. </div><div><br></div><div>And if that isn't for you, just wear a paper bag over your head until the birds have left the nest. </div>Becky's Big Byteshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03160647325073470441noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-653774121428975120.post-22842863662985674242014-01-05T13:20:00.001-08:002014-01-05T13:20:43.592-08:00Becky's Homemade GranolaLove granola but don't like all the added sugar and other "stuff" they put in there that's not so natural? It's super easy and fun to make! And if you buy your ingredients in bulk you will save money and always have everything on hand to make a batch. There are tons of recipes on the internet and luckily, granola is very versatile and you can mix and match whatever kinds of nuts and seeds you like. Don't feel committed to just using the ingredients below. Try pumpkin seeds, pecans, walnuts, cashews, or unsweetened coconut mixed in with the oats before cooking. <div><br></div><div>I like this version because it doesn't use brown sugar but takes its sweetness from honey and maple syrup. The addition of cinnamon and vanilla add a nice touch, too.<br><div><br></div><div>Here you go! (Oh, I would make a double batch if I were you)</div><div><b><br></b></div><div><b>Becky's Homemade Granola</b></div></div><div><br></div><div>2 cups raw Old Fashioned oats</div><div>1/2 cup sliced raw almonds</div><div>1/4 cup raw sunflower seeds</div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">large pinch salt</span></div><div>1/2 tsp cinnamon</div><div>2 TBSP maple syrup</div><div>1 TBSP raw honey</div><div>2 TBSP coconut oil (I buy mine at Trader Joes but I'm sure you can find it anywhere now, it's so popular. It comes in a jar and has many uses! Get some now!!)</div><div>1/2 tsp vanilla</div><div><br></div><div>Preheat oven to 300. </div><div>In a large bowl, combine the first 5 ingredients using your hands.</div><div>In a glass measuring cup, combine the maple syrup, honey, and coconut oil. The coconut oil is solid from the jar when you scoop it out. That's ok. Microwave the ingredients in the measuring cup for about 20 seconds and stir it up so the oil is now looking like oil and mixes into the other ingredients. If needed, micro a little more to melt it. Add the vanilla and stir.</div><div><br></div><div>Pour this liquid mixture over the dried ingredients and toss well to ensure all is covered with the liquid. It won't look very wet and that's ok. Just coat it all evenly. You can also use your hands if you'd like but I use a spatula.</div><div><br></div><div>Transfer it to a large rimmed cookie sheet in a single layer. I line mine with parchment paper because it cleans up easier. Place in oven for 10 minutes. After the 10 minutes, stir the mixture around so it cooks evenly. Every 2-3 minutes, open the oven and toss again. It can brown very easily, too fast, so be careful. The mixture on the right is a little too overdone for my liking and the one on the left is just about right. These 2 pans were in the same oven for the same time but the one on the right was on the bottom oven rack, so beware!</div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMychrPyZieWAfDDNU_OhXuRoGDSWF18kP8rHkXJ1z8qpm1lDh02WykIwwvNsX12CvLFH_JVzt9wIaIrFDXBR0_l0xutjBihCWt5SBc0iQ-Zm792y5Mxoc7IwdEaz_ACZ4x77fil89mF8/s640/blogger-image-1160283273.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMychrPyZieWAfDDNU_OhXuRoGDSWF18kP8rHkXJ1z8qpm1lDh02WykIwwvNsX12CvLFH_JVzt9wIaIrFDXBR0_l0xutjBihCWt5SBc0iQ-Zm792y5Mxoc7IwdEaz_ACZ4x77fil89mF8/s640/blogger-image-1160283273.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div>When it's done, remove from oven and let it sit in the pan. Every so often, toss it around. It will harden as it cools. Once it is cooled, you can add dried cranberries, chocolate chips, flaked coconut, etc.</div><div>Store in an airtight container for up to 2 weeks. </div><div><br></div><div>Enjoy by itself as your breakfast with milk, mixed in with hot oatmeal to make that even more exciting, over ice-cream, or yogurt. It's yummy. Hope you like it!</div>Becky's Big Byteshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03160647325073470441noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-653774121428975120.post-34309613353568762122014-01-01T07:27:00.000-08:002014-01-01T07:48:38.469-08:00Not Yo Typical New Year's ResolutionsI generally don't make resolutions but this year, I have plenty. They are in no order of importance.<br>
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1. Use a blow dryer for its intended purpose</div>
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2. Refrain from changing any toilet paper rolls in the house just to see how long it takes them to do it.</div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCCC91aUP6Tt30D4ALNcLMCMiUZux3lbIfQ3bQ7OE1JQ8aWtm1XO2j2Zp8gNZTPrjrDmBxRXC5aasuH-sl4c0yaJsmHSl56GUVJp8L17nie7Q_Ht_KhX8ukz5SElp8euHnBucWajHCDrA/s640/blogger-image--40999484.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCCC91aUP6Tt30D4ALNcLMCMiUZux3lbIfQ3bQ7OE1JQ8aWtm1XO2j2Zp8gNZTPrjrDmBxRXC5aasuH-sl4c0yaJsmHSl56GUVJp8L17nie7Q_Ht_KhX8ukz5SElp8euHnBucWajHCDrA/s640/blogger-image--40999484.jpg"></a></div><br></div>
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3. Clean out the clutter in my life. This includes emotional clutter.</div>
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4. Touch my toes and get up from a seated position without grunting</div>
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5. Find more uses for coconut oil</div>
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6. Resist the temptation to buy Hello Kitty panties for my dental-hygienist </div>
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7. Stop hoarding groceries in my house like I live on the prairie and I'm 100 miles from the nearest mercantile</div>
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8. Breathe more</div>
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9. Try to vacuum up as many Rainbow Loom rubber bands as possible </div>
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10. Delete any friends from my Facebook list who continue to whine and complain about absolute nonsense or are chronic attention seekers</div>
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11. Try to stop whining so much</div>
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12. Act on every great idea I have</div>
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13. Detoxify the house. This includes making my own laundry detergent and cleaning products and ridding of all products that have been deemed toxic for both body and home.</div>
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14. Try to keep my car cleaner</div>
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15. Pay as little for TV watching as possible while getting the most bang for our buck</div>
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16. Get more sleep</div>
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17. Fashion a set of sheets that allows the spouse to be warm and me to be cool</div>
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18. Become more techno savvy</div>
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19. Add more interesting shapes to my pancake repertoire<br>
20. Have more sex dreams about Don Draper<br>
21. Get the farting and VARTING problem under control<br>
22. Keep better contact with friends and family, especially the far away ones<br>
23. Stop apologizing to strangers in stores when THEY bump into me<br>
24. Forgive and forget<br>
25. Learn to accept a compliment by simply saying "Thank You" instead of downplaying whatever it is I'm being complimented for.<br>
26. Educate my doctors more about breast cancer even though they think they already know it all<br>
27. Be fearless<br>
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Happy New Year to you all! Please leave your questions and comments below and thank you for reading this year, and last. Peace and good health to all of you. </div>
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Becky's Big Byteshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03160647325073470441noreply@blogger.com3