Saturday, February 21, 2015

The One About Cancer.

Friends, there really isn't an easy way to bring this up. On Saturday, January 28th, 2015 I found two lumps as part of a routine self breast exam. One lump in each breast. For a minute I thought I was going to be a billionaire because I had found the insta-cure to tiny boobs. I had found the miracle plank workout that grew boob muscles. JACKPOT! But then reality hit and I remembered that my mom, grandma, and my two aunts have all battled breast cancer.

Guys, it's true. I have breast cancer. I'm 32 years old and I definitely have breast cancer. I am 100% convinced that I saved my life by doing regular self breast exams. I have an aggressively growing cancer (cells growing at a rate of 82%). Had I not gone immediately to the doctor after discovering my lumps, I might not be in early stages of cancer treatment. I CANNOT STRESS HOW IMPORTANT IT IS FOR EVERY WOMAN TO DO REGULAR SELF BREAST EXAMS!! Don't know how? No big deal. Go here and the American Cancer Society will tell you how:  Seriously. You don't need insurance or an appointment, just do it in the shower, or when you lay down for bed. The best defense is good offense. Or should I say #TheBreastDefenseIsGoodOffense. Defend your boobs, ladies. If you don't want to perform the self exam yourself, ask your husband/wife/partner/friend/someone you trust.

So anyway, modern medicine has come a long long way. And thank goodness because my terrifying fear of needles was going to pose a large large problem. So, let me introduce you to Sigourney Weaver. She's my tiny little alien inside my body. Sigourney is a fancy port that stays under my skin and allows the best nurses ever (for real, my nurses are amazing) to do blood draws and administer my chemo just by plugging into my port.
Sigourney Weaver IRL

What Sigourney looks like under my skin. 

So, I've got great doctors, amazing nurses, the cancer center staff are unbelievable (yes, we've made them cookies already). I've got love, support, family, friends, insurance, and good anti-nausea meds. I have also got about another week or two with my hair. So, I went ahead and chopped it early so that I could donate to Locks of Love. (If you have 10" of hair that you'd like to donate, check out Locks of Love.)
Before "the cut"
After "the cut"

Then I went to play around with wigs. Still not sure how I feel about the wig. It's quite an investment. I felt better about some options as opposed to others:
Very librarian chic. I kind of like this one. Makes me want to say words like "Money Penny". 
Maybe a little too Pulp Fiction?
Okay, okay, okay. I think that's enough heavy stuff for now. Is it scary? Yes. Am I determined? Yes. Will I ever be alone in this fight? No. And now the big question. The thing everybody wants to can I help? What Can I Do? Honestly, you can make sure that every single woman you love checks her breasts regularly for lumps. It can save her life. 

Monday, February 2, 2015

Music. More than just boogie down tunes.

If you know me at all, you know that I love music. I will shush you in the truck when a good song comes on. I will dance in any Target or grocery store or waiting room if one of my jams comes over the speakers. I have very specific play-lists for happy days, crappy days, melancholy days, etc. Music matters to me in a way that is hard to express.

BUT, I have finally found a way to explain it. Sort of. The look on the guy's face at 4:30 in the video below is everything. It's love, it's hope, it's faith, it's happiness...all of it. That's what music does.

Whether you are playing music or listening to music, it can be whatever you need it to be. Music never asks you "why" and it doesn't ask for anything in return. (Well, it might ask for $0.99 if you want to download it...)

Also, this is what writing does for me. It lets me feel whatever I need to feel. It lets me get out whatever I've been harboring inside. It doesn't ask me why and it doesn't ask for anything in return. So, on that note, I'm going to make a pot of coffee, hit "play" on a meticulously chosen list of tunes, sit in my favorite chair, open up my notebook, and write..and write, and write, and write, until I get it all out. Then I'll sing and dance...and dance, and dance, and sing until I fill it back up.