Overcoming Cancer's Hairy Situations

I really hate my hair.  

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?

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, "You should be happy it's growing!" or, "It's really pretty on you! If I didn't know you, I'd think you had it CUT that way!"

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.

I had counseled myself through baldness by saying to myself and others, "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."

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!

When I was bald, this is what I heard:

"You look great bald! I can really see your face now!"

"Don't ever have long hair again!"

"Your head is just so perfectly shaped!"

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!"

(God, I really do have a nice head! And yes, middle fingers were intentional.)

Now, when I go out in public, people just stare at my hair. Like, "Dear Lord, woman, who cut your hair, Stevie Wonder?"

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.

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.

Papa can you hear me? 

I guess this hair growing process is another fucking metaphor for the "Cancer Journey". 

There is no easy way around it and you just have to go through it. Things are going to get ugly, and strange, and wild. You can't skip past the chemo crapfest or the awkward curls.

Life, in general is like this. You'd like to fast forward through a Jacob In Progress but you can't.  Keep your head held high, smile, and dab on some lipstick so you at least look like a girl. 

And if that isn't for you, just wear a paper bag over your head until the birds have left the nest. 

Becky's Homemade Granola

Love 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. 

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.

Here you go! (Oh, I would make a double batch if I were you)

Becky's Homemade Granola

2 cups raw Old Fashioned oats

1/2 cup sliced raw almonds

1/4 cup raw sunflower seeds

large pinch salt

1/2 tsp cinnamon

2 TBSP maple syrup

1 TBSP raw honey

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!!)

1/2 tsp vanilla

Preheat oven to 300. 

In a large bowl, combine the first 5 ingredients using your hands.

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.

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.

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!

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.

Store in an airtight container for up to 2 weeks. 

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!

Not Yo Typical New Year's Resolutions

I generally don't make resolutions but this year, I have plenty. They are in no order of importance.

1.  Use a blow dryer for its intended purpose

2. Refrain from changing any toilet paper rolls in the house just to see how long it takes them to do it.

3. Clean out the clutter in my life. This includes emotional clutter.

4. Touch my toes and get up from a seated position without grunting

5. Find more uses for coconut oil

6. Resist the temptation to buy Hello Kitty panties for my dental-hygienist 

7. Stop hoarding groceries in my house like I live on the prairie and I'm 100 miles from the nearest mercantile

8. Breathe more

9. Try to vacuum up as many Rainbow Loom rubber bands as possible 

10. Delete any friends from my Facebook list who continue to whine and complain about absolute nonsense or are chronic attention seekers

11. Try to stop whining so much

12. Act on every great idea I have

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.

14. Try to keep my car cleaner

15. Pay as little for TV watching as possible while getting the most bang for our buck

16. Get more sleep

17. Fashion a set of sheets that allows the spouse to be warm and me to be cool

18. Become more techno savvy

19. Add more interesting shapes to my pancake repertoire
20. Have more sex dreams about Don Draper
21. Get the farting and VARTING problem under control
22. Keep better contact with friends and family, especially the far away ones
23. Stop apologizing to strangers in stores when THEY bump into me
24. Forgive and forget
25. Learn to accept a compliment by simply saying "Thank You" instead of downplaying whatever it is I'm being complimented for.
26. Educate my doctors more about breast cancer even though they think they already know it all
27. Be fearless

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. 

The "Other" Side Effects of Breast Cancer. A blog for ALL women!

Breast Cancer is a true gift. It gives us many things:

Baldness

Bloatedness

Booblessness

Just to name a few. And if ever there was a time when a woman needed her self-esteem to help her through this B-Busting time, it would be now. However, many of us are already "in the hole" with our low self-esteem, so once we get a disease that robs us of our feminine qualities, we're in trouble. We put ourselves down even more. We feel ugly, weird, different. We are afraid to go out in public. We hate being stared at and we dread others' harsh or stupid commentary on our looks. It doesn't happen often, but enough to make us fidgety and on alert.

So, after dealing with all of the harsh side effects of treatment, one would hope a woman would say to herself,  "I've been through so much. This really isn't the time to dwell on my appearance and feel bad about myself." One would hope that this woman is being gentle and kind to herself. However, quite the opposite happens. 

Instead of Self-Loving, she turns to Self-Loathing. 

"I'm so fat"

"I hate the way I look bald, or the way I look in a wig"

"I hate my man chest"

"My boobs are lopsided"

"I'm too skinny!"

The list of flaws is endless. She will even invent some that don't exist. And it slowly erodes at her soul as she continues sending her subconscious these horribly negative messages. 

And if someone were to compliment her, she would just scoff at it and act like a defense attorney. "No, I do not have pretty eyes and teeth. See, look at that space right there." She will try her best to prove you all wrong, even though she has the face of a super model. She just doesn't see her beauty. 

So ladies. I'm here to try to stop the madness. Even if you do not have breast cancer, chances are good you are unhappy with at least one thing about yourself. When did our self-worth become so dependent on our looks?  Men do not waste this kind of time and energy looking in the mirror, frowning, crying, fixing, straightening, tweeking, and twitching about it all. 

But we do! And it spirals out of control. We are just never satisfied. And I have to say, it makes me sad. And it makes me mad. 

I am admittedly a vain person. I guess everyone has some vanity, to a degree. After going through this last year and so many physical reinventions; long hair, pixie hair, bald head, mastectomy, Puff Mommy body, I have always tried to look nice through it all because, well, I'm vain. My hair is growing back  like a Chia Pet in progress. There's no easy way to grow out a bald head so you just have to let it do its thing, and put on some big ass earrings to detract from the hair!  Normally, if I am seeing someone for the first time in a while, I would make comments about my hair, like "Oh, it's growing and I can't do much with it", almost in an apologetic way. WTF!? Why do I have to apologize or feel shame about the way I look? What if I did chose this gruesome hairdo? Who gives a good shit, as my mother would say. Sporting a Chia head certainly gives you a thicker skin, or it can break you. I chose to be tough.

I reached an impass last week.  The day after Christmas I did something VERY brave. I stepped on the scale. I knew it wasn't going to be pretty but I did anyway. As soon as I stepped on, these words rolled off my tongue like I had been possessed by the ghost of Stuart Smalley:

"I love you no matter what"

And the number on the scale was quite frightening and an all time high for me. I should have been crying but instead, I just shrugged my shoulders, silently told myself, "It's ok",  and stepped off. And I moved on. I then undressed to take a shower, also another adventure in sight seeing. Again, I would usually glance quickly then look away. But that day I said:

"I love you no matter what"

And you know, I think I have found my mantra, my self-affirmation, or whatever it is I need to get me through my middle age and beyond. As much as I will try to take care of my body, there will be jiggling, there will be rolls, there will be wrinkles on my face. I will never be an airbrushed version of myself, nor do I want to be.  However, I can tell you that I will have the perkiest boobs in the nursing home when this is all said and done. 

To all my sisters, both near and far, with or without breast cancer:  I pray that you all accept yourselves "As Is", no matter what your imagined flaws are.  In the end, looks and beauty mean absolutely nothing. I can also say that I have never been happier. I am more at ease with myself and I'm not "wasting time" dwelling on what I should or could look like. Again, it is what it is. It doesn't mean I am surrendering to a lifetime of obesity. It just means that in this moment, I am accepting myself, no matter what. 

So, the B-Busting gifts that cancer brings? I'd say that is one of them. Learning to love myself, no matter what. If you dare, hang this sign up on your bathroom mirror. Say it out loud every time those negative thoughts start creeping in. It can set the entire tone for the day. And just before bed, make sure you say it again a few times as you drift off. It will bring much needed peace to your sleep. You might actually start believing it and then you can spend your precious time on this earth on the things that truly matter. 

 

The New Normal

Recently I wrote about the "Now What?" after treatment and surgeries are over. I expected myself to be back to normal. What was I thinking? And what is normal anyway? I haven't written in over a month because I have really not been myself. Adjusting to Tamoxifen, instant menopause, lack of sleep, Christmas, and not being able to form sentences out loud or on computer have impaired my blogging abilities!

If the new normal means wearing granny panties, sporting a Max Headroom haircut, farting and snoring more than Frank Barone, weighing more than my husband (almost), acting like a morose teenager, and grunting every time I arise from a seated position, then yes, I am completely normal. 

Many of us go back to our routines, at least to some degree. We are at the grocery store, the gym (if we are lucky), our kids' activities, in many cases our jobs, family gatherings, housework, etc.  We look ok, for the most part. We put our makeup on every day so that we don't look sick or tired and we tend to make an extra effort than before to look presentable. The world sees us as highly or moderately functioning beings of society. We appear, on most accounts, OK. 

I'll give you a little hint though. We're not all OK.

We are bordering on wanting people to ask us how we are to getting aggravated if they do ask us how we are, because we just don't know how to answer honestly. It's a slippery slope and we are a moody bunch, sometimes. I personally try to be honest and tell the truth, without TMI and drama spilling out. We may feel awkward in social settings and making small talk can be very daunting.

I realized the New Normal is anything but and most of us hate the expression. It's kind of a slap in the face to some and they don't want to accept that things are never going to be the same. They don't want a New Normal. They want their Old Normal. It's not easy to deal with but as one wise sister always points out, "It is what it is". (It's funny how I've always hated that expression but it has never been more relevant to my life than it is now and I use it more and more!) So coming to accept the baggage that comes with breast cancer, even long after treatment is over is a process. I've come to accept many things "as is" and try not to put so much pressure on myself to be "back to normal". This only makes things harder, trust me.

I try to mindread those who have not travelled this road. I wonder if some look at cancer as a single event that simply occurred and now it's over. It's like when you have a party in your house. People come over, make a mess, and then leave. It's your job to get out the dust pan and toss all the crumbs into the trash. Then you carry on with daily life.

Well, cancer is certainly no party and the crumbs that are left behind keep showing up in places you didn't expect them to. As hard as you try to scoop them up, they keep sticking to the floor, or in the corners of your mind, haunting you when you least expect it. 

I've tried telling myself, "You need to put this entire experience behind you. You need to move forward". My mantra since my diagnosis was "Keep moving forward, don't look back." But this is not easy, especially since it's constantly in front of me.  If I had ass cancer, sure, it'd be easy to put it behind me! At times, I have completely avoided the bathroom mirror or I let it fog up so much that I couldn't see myself. And that was fine with me!

But now, things are changing and I no longer hide from myself. One of my fellow pink sisters named Natalie really expresses it best here and I'd like to credit her with helping me be able to look at myself with pride every day:

"When I look at my scars and my changed chest, now I feel pride and happiness. I am proud of all that I endured and I'm happy to be alive. Scars don't form on the dead....only the living. So now I've learned to look at them in a completely different way."

Well said, Natalie! You are helping me and so many other women by sharing this perspective. My hope is that all women who have been scarred by breast cancer will be able to see themselves as beautiful and strong survivors who have overcome and prevailed. You are all warriors and you are stronger than you think!

My Meltdown

I'm home today. I was going to meet my chemo pal, Elayna today but I had a lousy night's sleep and my expanders are holding me down. Just feeling heavy and sore today.  And everything is making me cry.

I seemed to get through so much stuff over the last months without breaking down. I don't know if I was just in the fast forward mode of "getting it all done", the chemo, the surgery, and now the recovery. This is the time now to think. I have not been thrust back into working (yet) and I have down time to recoup.  

And think.

If you didn't know already, I am a thinker. My brain just doesn't ever not think. Sometimes, I'll ask my husband, "What are you thinking about?" and he replies, "Nothing". I'm like, "How can you be thinking of NOTHING? How is that possible. Even thinking about NOTHING is thinking about something. The fact that you are thinking period is thinking, right?"

See? It's torturous being inside this head. Sometimes I wish I could just turn a switch off and stop all of it. 

Anyway, having this down time to rest, stretch, take care of myself, etc. is odd but I know it's necessary.  The problem is, I start to really think about all that has happened over the last year and it's still hard for me to grasp. Before I was diagnosed, I was in Worrier mode and then quickly jumped to Warrior Mode. I had a job to complete and I'm almost done. I have my final "exchange" surgery in March when my tissue expanders will be removed and replaced by permanent implants. So, the worst of all of this is definitely (and hopefully) behind me. 

So, why do I feel so blue? Shouldn't I be happy? Well, for starters, I think my whole being has been messed with in more ways than one. About 2 weeks ago, I started the Tamoxifen and Effexor. The first is an Estrogen blocker (see prior blog), and causes menopausal symptoms. The Effexor is an anti-anxiety/anti-depressant and that is supposed to also help relieve hot flashes.  

I am not ashamed to say that I take stuff for depression. I think there is such a stigma in this culture about mental illness and if you need something to help you cope, you take it. Personally, I'd rather not have to take it and eventually my goal is to get off it. This period in my life has been wrought with many emotions and trying to "keep it together" for my kids, my family and myself is not easy. A little help is ok if you need it.  I've learned that many people take this stuff and don't have life threatening illnesses and just have trouble coping with every day life or have an imbalance. I get it.

It's important to mourn, cry, let it out. 

I had just written up to this point and took a break to read a message from a fellow Pink Sister who is a long time survivor. She knew about my teary week and said she was glad to hear I was "finally crying" because it really is necessary for the entire healing process.  I think she was starting to worry that I was handling this too well! No one gets out of this one without crying, no matter who you are.

After my tearfest today, I finally decided I needed to shower. It's amazing how the armpit smell evolves after weeks of not wearing deodorant.  I started to undress for my big event. I love the hot water, the stretching in the shower, the feel of the water on my scalp, and the freedom to cry where you can't see the tears.

First, I lifted up my cami, which has become a post mastectomy fashion staple. I was just looking for a Foob Update to see how they were doing today and this is what I found:

My first reaction was a gasp, thinking I somehow shit myself in an odd position.  And then I realized that my late morning "snack" must have ventured down my chest, but because most of it is numb, sort of like when you have novacaine, the chocolate just smooshed right into my brand new, $2.46 Old Navy camisole. And then my six year old caught on after hearing my hysteria.

Busted!

In times like these, it's handy to have one of these, but because I don't, I let the shower do the trick.

I had given up sweets recently and it didn't last long. I'm glad it didn't because this little wardrobe malfunction gave me just the belly laugh I needed today and my blues quickly turned into the browns.

The Browns helped to turn my frown, upside down. Just the therapy I needed today!

(Oh, and the culprit? Trader Joes new chocolate chunks! You must try them!)

Do These Foobs Make My Stomach Look Big?

If you are tired of my breast cancer posts, I'm not sorry. You don't have to read this blog, you know. But I promise to make it worth your time, even if breast cancer has absolutely no effect on your life. 

What the Fuck? It's all I can say this morning.  I went to bed around midnight and had constant chills. I left the bed so I wouldn't annoy my husband, and went downstairs to the couch.  I am now taking Tamoxifen (for the next 5 years) because my breast cancer happens to be "Estrogen receptor positive", which basically means that my cancer is/was(?) fueled by estrogen. Tamoxifen is an estrogen blocker and is supposed to do some magic in my body and somehow prevent future cancer. Ok, then. I'll take it if it's like a little insurance policy. 

However, there are side effects. One of which is hot flashes. I've had flashes before, however, I didn't know that with hot flashes comes major, major chills. Why do women only speak of the HOT part and not the cold part? Did I miss a memo or a meeting?  I spent the night covered under 5 blankets, 1 Thomas the Train, 1 Snowman, 1 with Trucks all over it, and 2 plush ones that make you want to float on a cloud, you know the kind I'm talking about? Ya, those. I also had a hat on my head (which by the way is sporting some pretty cool hair!) Even though I look like a female inmate now, it's fine.  Pink may just be the new Orange.

This is how I felt:

So, long story short, I was freezing my ass off for hours, chills chills chills and couldn't get warm to save my life. I was running out of infomercials and almost caved at some Home Shopping Network 2 piece polyblend outfits for the holidays. Then suddenly, the thermostat in my body skyrocketed and I needed to strip. I finally dozed off around 5 a.m. at which time I had crazy dreams about being in some parallel clown universe and one of the clowns was actually really cute and started shaving his head, just for me.  Gosh, I miss romance!  Just when things were getting juicy, the Mr. came down to make the morning coffee. Damn, no telling where that dream was going!

Since sleep was definitely not in the cards for me, I got my fanny up and got busy making lunches, breakfast and sucked down my coffee.  I'm usually pretty high functioning the day after a No Night Sleep but it will hit me around 3 p.m for sure and I'm going to be a vegetable. 

For those of you who really had no interest in reading this blog but did anyway, I thank you for your time. Here is your reward. This is what I look like in the morning, before walking the kids to the bus stop:

So, my million dollar question.  Do my Foobs make my stomach look big? 

I'm sure many of you are saying to yourselves, "How could she post such a dreadful picture of herself on the interweb for everyone to see?! Doesn't she know that picture can land just about anywhere?"

In the words of my mother, "Who gives a good shit".  (I love how she says it instead of asks it, so no question mark is needed).  I truly don't at this point. I'm too tired and unhinged to care. And I also figured that some poor soul is trying to give a good shit right now on the toilet and perhaps this blog was good reading material to facilitate that whole process.  

You're welcome.