Because I Stayed

February 9, 1990, I walked into a room full of people sat down, and did my best not to cry.

It was my first AA meeting.

I was terrified but I stayed.

During the break I cried in the ladies room.

A lovely woman named Carol, stayed with me in the ladies room, talked me in off the ledge and promised to meet me at another meeting.

That was the day that changed the trajectory of my life.

Rather to succumbing to the horror that alcoholism has to offer, I put my faith in a room full of drunks and a power greater than myself that I truly did not understand.

All I knew was that I never again wanted to feel the way that I did that night.

I never wanted to spend another night with my face in a toilet.

I never wanted to spend another day having my friends recount my idiotic actions because I had drunk myself into a blackout.

These past three (plus) decades have not been without a desire to drink. I have had that many times...I just haven't given in.

Most days are really easy. I don't live a life that revolves around partying like I did back in the day, so not drinking is pretty easy. In fact, I rarely even think about it.

When things are rough and tough, when I have to fight for my life, when I am fighting for someone else's life, when things are difficult my 'sobriety shield' is raised high. I am ready, I am on the lookout, I am constantly making sure that I am aware of my weaknesses and I am on guard.

But, when things are going well and life has settled into an easy pattern with no drama or hysterics, that's when I want to drink.

My mind will begin to fantasize about "a" glass of wine or "a" beer. Neither of which did I ever have just one of.

The "ism" of alcoholism is always waiting for me to slip up and pick up a drink.

The "ism" is a thief. It's a devious little POS that waits for my guard to be down so it can convince me that a drink would bad situation better and a good situation great. Lies!

I am constantly aware that my thoughts can slip which would cause me to slip and I have no doubt that is a fall I would not survive.

In the early days of my sobriety I pretty much lived in meetings.

I did 30 in thirty days and even after that hit 3-5 per week, went on speaking engagements or drove friends, who had lost their licenses, to meetings.

I love the fellowship and I the atmosphere. Most people there had a common goal: sobriety.

While I rarely attend meetings now the lessons of those early days have stuck. Not the least of which were steps 1, 2, & 3.

1. We admitted we were powerless over alcohol - that our lives had become unmanageable. 
2. Came to believe that a Power greater than ourselves could restore us to sanity. 
3. Made a decision to turn our will and our lives over to the care of God as we understood Him.

In the early days I didn't have a clear understanding of God. All I knew was I was not the one who created the moon and stars. I was not responsible for the sun rising and setting every day and the things that I had tried to do on my own had gotten me to where I was.

I quickly found a sponsor who was able to see through my outer shell, talk to me in terms that I could grasp and summed up the first three steps in a much less wordy way:

1. I can't.
2. He can.
3. I think I'll let Him.

As long a I was giving up control I would be alright.

Early on I resented the crap out of the fact that I am an alcoholic. I didn't like the label. I hated not being able to drink! Thirty-four years later and I can still tell you which cabinet the Tequila was in the day I decided to call the AA hotline.

Ask a "normal" person where the Tequila was in their liquor cabinet 34 years ago and I bet they'd look at you as if you're insane!

Over time the first three steps morphed into a much greater understanding of the Serenity Prayer.

Some days I practice it much better than others. I am not perfect but I really do try. And the best part of being sober this long is that my kids have never seen me drunk. God willing, they never will.

To this day my favorite meetings are the Newcomer meetings where I can hear that it's still the same crapshow out there that it was 34 years ago. Nothing has changed except the people sitting at the bar.

I have never hidden my sobriety or the fact that I am an alcoholic. I always make time to help those in need or lend an ear to those whose loved ones are still actively drinking.

If you, or someone you love, are struggling with alcoholism, please know that there are people out there who want to help. 

Helping others, helps us. All you have to do is ask.

Serenity, Courage and Wisdom. 

May God bless you with all three.

Sharing My Experience

Every three weeks I go to the infusion center for my Herceptin. 

What is Herceptin? 

Herceptin (chemical name: trastuzumab) is a HER2 inhibitor targeted therapy. Herceptin works against HER2-positive breast cancers by blocking the ability of the cancer cells to receive chemical signals that tell the cells to grow. Breastcancer.org.

I don't actually get Herceptin, I get another drug called Kanjinti that is chemically similar and achieves the same result...and they have a copay assistance program which is a huge help financially. 

There is no denying that I am weird, crazy, insane...whatever, but I really do look forward to going to infusions. 

Even when I was getting chemo I looked forward to being there. The staff, nurses and doctors are some of the nicest poeple on the face of the earth. The aftermath of chemo was tough but the people are amazing. 

In anticipation of losing my hair, friends sent me fun hats to wear and I have continued to wear hats or outfits throughout the additional treatments. 

The staff has told me that get excited when they see my name on the roster! They even talk about what they think I'm going to do.

The infusion I had in March was the Friday before St. Patrick's day. I decided it was close enough to roll with that as a theme. . 

I found a really fun headband that blinked and a shirt that said, "Who Needs Luck, I have Charm"

As I was getting into my car I caught my reflection in the rearview mirror, giggled and thought, "I love my life." 

And I do. I really do. 

Looking back at this past year one would questions my sanity. 

Seriously, it's been one shit sandwich after another but...I'm alive! 

I have so much to be grateful for! 

I have a loving hubby, two amazing boys, two incredible businesses, an amazing business partner, and incredible assistant and wonderful, loving friends. I'm on the downhill side of becoming a cancer survivor, I've met some of the most amazing people you can imagine and I have been able to make people laugh in the midst of the turmoil that is cancer treatment. 

Yes, I am blessed. 

I get to make people laugh. 

I look forward to those laughs. 

Working on outfits and themes gave me a purpose during chemo. I was able to focus on how I could be funny instead of feeling miserable. 

And now, I can be a guide for others who are starting on the path. 

I don't have answers but I do have experience that I can share. 

I recently went to see a friend who is going through chemo for ovarian cancer. Her chemo is a different cocktail than mine was but the acid reflux and nausea that it induces is the same. She had been eating Tums to no avail. I brought her a baggie of Gaviscon chewables and told her to take Nexium (after she'd checked with a pharmacist) because it had worked wonders on me. 

Guess what? It works for her too! The Gaviscon is a game changer. That stuff is a miracle in a chewable! 

We sat and talked a just bitched about the ravages of chemo on our bodies and the irritation of chemo brain - it's real people!

I was able to commiserate as I'd "been there done that" already and my experience was close enough to offer hope that this too shall pass and she can get on with life. 

I also gave her a super fun shirt. When she pulled it out of the little gift baggy I had stuffed it into she laughed. 

Making her laugh made my heart happy! 

Breadcrumbs

I went to logon today and Blogger informed me that my last post was on January 28, 2015. Really? Where have February, March and now April gone.

Life is a blur!

Just before Christmas my mom was diagnosed with breast cancer. In fact, it was four years to the day that we had the memorial service for my dad that mom was told that she was now a cancer patient.

She called me right away.

It was not the news we were expecting but given what it was it could have been worse.

Surgery was inevitable as was chemo. What type of chemo was where the big questions were and after two consultations with different oncologists she chose to do the one that was four treatments vs six.

We call it "chemo light."

There have been ups and downs and now that she is headed into the final treatment we are all breathing a hesitant sigh of relief and we begin to plan for the future.

Interestingly, when a family member is undergoing a treatment that takes place every three weeks, life begins to exist in three week chunks and before you know it, time has flown by at an amazing rate!

Lump that in with a home based cake business, part-time weekend job, twin two-year-olds and being a wife and mommy and there are never enough hours in the day and the house is always a mess.

I was never the type to keep a spotless house but I was never this bad before!

As much as I love my weekend job, I really miss weekends with my family.

My not being home to cook dinner has become a stressor between hubby and me and a constant issue that is best solved by my calling Dominos Pizza or bringing home Chinese.

After many evenings of arriving home to cranky kids and a stressed out hubby at 6:45 I finally told him that he really needs to figure out the whole making dinner thing so that we're not eating at 7:30 or 8 o'clock when I've finished making dinner.

In truth, it pissed me off to work all day and then have to make dinner when I arrive.

One weekend, in an attempt to ease this stress, I made a pan of pasta stuff (it's like lasagna only easier to make) and all he had to do was heat it up in the oven...which he did not do.

Argh!!!

I finally informed him that his inability to cook dinner was getting under my skin and it wasn't fair to the kids to make them wait so long to eat dinner either. We discussed the things that he could do that fell under his "I don't cook" limitations and I thought we had it settled.

I had another thought coming.

One night on my way home from work my phone chimed with a "what should I do for dinner?" message.

Sigh...

I replied (via voice to text) that there was chicken thawed in the refrigerator and he could put bread crumbs on it and put it in the oven or do it on the stove.

"How do I get the breadcrumbs on the chicken?" was his response.

Lord help us all!

A few weeks later on my way to work I received a text from hubby asking if he was supposed to peel kiwi fruit. I replied (again using the voice to text function on my phone) "Yes." He then asked if it was bad if you didn't to which I replied that it "was inedible." (I mean really, have you looked at it? It's liked eating velcro!)

Anyway, he asked me in what way it was it inedible at which point I lost it and was yelling at Siri to send a text message telling hubby to find a flipping knife! He sniped back that one of the boys had eaten it and wanted to know if they would be ok.

Oy vey...

Yes they will be fine but he might want to state that little tidbit first! He said I should have just answered the simple question and I replied telling him that he was right but that he was the man who asked "How do I put the breadcrumbs on the chicken?"