Just Be Quiet!

I recently heard a story about a woman who told a co-worker that she'd been diagnosed with breast cancer. The co-worker responded with, "Wow my friend's mom died from breast cancer."

OMG!!!! 

Really?! 

There are so many things that you can say to a woman when she tells you that she's been diagnosed with breast cancer. 

Immediately responding with a death comment is NOT one of them. 

Other things that one should refrain from saying are, "They're just boobs. Since your kids are grown you don't even need them anymore. You'll get a free boob job. Now you can have the boobs you've always wanted. You should...whatever" Save the advice for when you are asked. 

Times like that silence truly is a virtue. 

What should you say?

How about: 

• I'm so sorry.
• What is your treatment plan?
• I'd like to arrange a meal train after your surgery
• I can help you with childcare
• Are you all set for transportation?
• If you ever just want to vent I'm here for you. 
• I have a friend who just went through this can I connect you? 

Although breast cancer patients may have identical diagnoses, patients react differently to the treatments and one size does not fit all. Many of the emotions a patient experiences can be very similar but others can be polar opposites. Experiences may be similar but no two are identical. The most a patient can hope for is to find a kindred spirit who feels what they feel. 

Speaking to someone who has "been there, done that" can be helpful for a couple of reasons: 

• Speaking to a survivor breeds hope
• Only another patient can truly understand what the person is experiencing physically and mentally
• Having walked the path before them can offer advice that comes from first-hand experience
• Often a patient doesn't have to describe what they feel the other person knows and can often verbalize what the "newbie" has yet to flesh out. 

Have you ever met someone who went through a similar experience to whatever you were going through at the moment and they say something that describes the thoughts that have been swirling through your brain but haven't yet been able to verbalize? 

It feels like they could read your mind and put your thoughts into words. 

It's a miraculous moment. 

Connection at a time when life feels like its unraveling is vital because it's grounding. 

Being told that you have cancer is horrific. Because of my family history with it I was not shocked but that does not mean that it wasn't terrifying. Being able to speak to someone that has already walked the path is comforting. 

It's the reason that 12 Step programs like AA (Alcoholics Anonymous) work so well. 

The flellowship of AA is just as important as the actual steps. Being with others who know exactly what you are going through is life altering. Not having to constantly fish for words that descibe feelings takes a weight of one's shoulders and allows the person to "just be." 

I belong to a group on facebook for breast cancer patients. These women were lifesaving in the early days of my diagnosis and treatment. There is so much to learn and understand overnight. I didn't have to give background, I could just pop on, post a question or say how I was feeling and BAM immediately they would begin responding. They knew exactly how I felt.

To this day, I can't put into words the level of comfort that it would give me.

I didn't have to explain anything, listen to horrifying stories of dead loved ones or respond to insensitive comments. 

If you don't know what to say, then just say so! 

Don't try to come up with something cute or offer advice on traveling a path you have never walked. It just makes you look like a know it all and, frequently, stupid! 

Mark Twain put it best, "It is better to remain silent and be thought a fool than to talk and remove all doubt." 

When in doubt, say nothing. 

A Fighting Chance

My niece got married last weekend. She was supposed to have gotten married in 2020 but the world shut down on their original wedding date!  

Two reschedules later, they are finally husband and wife! 

It was an unbelievable wedding with lots of laughs, a few tears, great speeches and...

I danced!!!

It's been ages since I danced. 

Like, REALLY danced. 

I led a freaking conga line through a ballroom! 

My feet still hurt and so does my chest (a little) but...

I. Don't. Care!!! 

Chemo looms on my horizon. 

I overdid it knowing that it was going to be my last opportunity to do so for a while. 

Unfortunatley, I spent Sunday in bed because the armpit where they removed the nodes hurt like hell. 

The worst part was that we had to postpone our Father's Day canoe trip. Canoe trips are a family favorite and I was really looking forward to it. But, between the pain and not getting any sleep because of the pain it was just not a good idea. 

Fortunately, I am the type of person who does actually listen to my body and backs off when things get rough. 

I didn't used to be that person. 

I have overdone it physically many, many times in my life and have the knees, ankles and arthritis to prove it. 

But I have matured, well, actually my body has matured and no longer allows me to be a dumbass who doesn't know when to stop. 

However, this does not matter to some people who feel it necessary to give me useless advice. 

If one more person tells me to take care of myself I may throat punch them. 

Aaaaaaaaaaaaargh!!!! 

Yes, I know it's important. 

I'm not a moron. 

I'm also a business owner, business partner, boss, manager, marketing director, mom, wife, homeowner, chief cook and bottle washer. 

The hats I wear are many. 

Self-care is a hot cup of coffee and a game of on-line cribbage. 

While people mean well, they need to respect where a person is in their life. Unsolicited advice right now is rarely welcome. 

I appreciate the people who ask if I need help, not the people who tell me I should get some.

Don't tell me to relax, breathe or calm down. 

When I am wound up and having a crappy day I need people who can commiserate or just listen. Having someone say, "I have no idea how you feel but I'm here if you need to vent" means the world to me. 

I appreciate their honesty and their willingness to be with me in the moment. 

They don't offer advice, tell me how to feel or try to fix anything. They just listen! 

Speaking of fixing things...

The engine in the 2017 Ford escape has been replaced. Ford covered most of the parts. While we are very grateful to Ford for their assistance, we still should not have had to replace an engine at 84,400 miles! 

It runs well and everything is good except the passenger side windshield wiper now hits the "A" pillar and makes a tapping sound every time it swipes. 

So annoying! 

I only noticed because, after going through the carwash and cleaning the inside of the car for two hours, it rained. 

Never fails! 

Today I had an echocardiogram and had more lab work done. I'll be happy when the port is installed and I can stop being a pin cushion! 

The port will be installed on Thursday morning. Chemo starts Friday and will be every week for 12 weeks. 

Reactions to the drugs are an unknown as I fortunately, have never had them before. 

The unknowns bother me more than anything else. 

I might be sick, but I might not. 

I might lose my hair, but I might not. 

I might have neuropathy, but I might not. 

I try to not spend a lot of time thinking about that stuff. 

It's a massive rabbit hole of "what ifs" that I don't want to go down. Instead, I choose to bury myself in the technical stuff. 

I like to understand the treatments and the research/reasoning behind them. 

I will be receiving Taxol and Herceptin. 

"Taxol, originally extracted from the bark of the Pacific yew tree, is one of the mostly commonly used drugs against solid tumors, and is a front-line drug for treating ovarian and advanced breast cancer. The drug is known to bind to microtubules and essentially freeze them in place, which prevents them from separating the chromosomes when a cell divides. This kills dividing cells, in particular cancer cells, which are known for rapid proliferation." Berkeley News

"Herceptin works by attaching itself to the HER2 receptors on the surface of breast cancer cells and blocking them from receiving growth signals. By blocking the signals, Herceptin can slow or stop the growth of the breast cancer. Herceptin is an example of an immune targeted therapy. In addition to blocking HER2 receptors, Herceptin can also help fight breast cancer by alerting the immune system to destroy cancer cells onto which it is attached." Breastcancer.org

Although they do not know which side effect I will succumb to, they do know that these two drugs can give me many, many more years to come. 

According to the National Cancer Institute, $590 million dollars is invested in breast cancer research annually. 

I am am grateful for each an everyone of those dollars for myself, my sister, my mother, my aunt, countless friends and any other woman who will hear that they have breast cancer. 

Because of the preventative/diagnostic measures that have come from that reseach, we have a fighting chance today. 

While it is not a sorority I ever wanted to pledge, I am proud to be a pink ribbon sister with some of the most amazing warriors on the planet. 

Sucky Day

Today was an emotional roller coaster day and for no reason other than it just sucked. 

One minute I was ready to cry, the next I was ready to slap someone and then I'd be laughing about something. 

For. No. Reason! 

Well other than my whole world is going to change in six days. Yeah, that might have something to do with it. 

As if the roller coaster wasn't bad enough I was instructed by someone who meant well but told me to, "take a deep breath and count to 10." Really?! 

W. T. F?!?! 

This is not a patience thing. This is a massive body altering operation followed by chemo, which we all know sucks. I don't need patience I needed someone to say, "I'm so sorry. Days like this really do suck." 

Take a breath?! 

So I completely came unglued on the person. 

I then called them back to apologize and explain that in the future if you catch me in a mood like that giving me advice about calming down is the WORST thing a person could do. What I need in that moment is to be validated. 

As God is my witness, she replied with, "Well I do validate your feelings...but you do need to step back and take a breath." 

I hung up. 

I don't need advice. I didn't call for advice. I don't want advice. 

I needed a sounding board. I needed understanding. I needed someone who would take my mind off this mess and make me laugh. Change the subject. Talk about something stupid. Something menial whatever...just don't lecture. 

Yes, I am strong. Yes, I'm a fighter. Yes, I will get through this. 

Doesn't mean that I'm happy about it or that it will be a walk in the park. I do my best to stay in the here and now but sometimes what's coming pokes his head into my life to remind me that dark days are coming. 

Imagine being at the beach with a beautiful blue sky listening to the waves crash on the shore and a rain cloud suddenly comes over you and only you. Then it goes away, and comes back repeatedly. That was how I felt today. 

No amount of breathing made me feel better. And, well, I had to do it all day to stay alive. 

Having other cancer patients/survivors tell me they know how I feel made me feel better. 

Having people make me laugh makes the biggest impact! 

A friend messaged me today to see how I was and I replied, "It's an angry day. Some days are happy but today I just want to slap someone."

Later on when I left the shop to pick up the boys from school I got in my car, put the key in the ignition to start the car and found this on my windshield. 

Oh how I love my friends. 

Keep me laughing gang.