No "Sorry" Allowed!!
Some of you may be reading my blog to see what goes on in the mind of someone with a "terminal" diagnosis. Or maybe you just want to see what is going to come out of my mouth next? Either way, I just want to say THANK YOU FOR YOUR SUPPORT!
Wow, right? Get the fuck outta here with that nonsense; I refuse to adopt that as my timetable. When I was first diagnosed, it was a struggle to leave my house. I never had the desire to face the world because, to me, the entire world knew about my "terminaI" diagnosis. I didn't want anyone to look at me and not know what to say or to feel sorry for me because that would make me a weakling (or so I thought). So, I did what I do best - I sat in the house. My family and friends were amazing, making sure I always had company. One of my friends even had brunches at my house on Sundays. He said that buying all of the food and the alcohol for brunch was more cost effective than going out and spending the money at a bar or strip club...AMAZINGLY GENEROUS (and thoughtful), right?
While sitting in the house recuperating and processing all of this, a couple of friends asked if I wanted to venture out and go to a Phillies game. They even said I could bring along a few friends. This was going to be my first time out, so I was secretly panicking inside. The fear I was feeling was consuming
This may seem silly, but I must explain. I had a fear of leaving my house for a few reasons:
I am a social person, so I did not recall ever having felt that way before. I never realized the mind shift that had happened after learning that my life was no longer going according to MY plan. I didn't think for one second that I would need any of the resources that I was given (support groups, hotlines, Facebook groups, additional medications, therapy, etc.). It's not that I thought I was better than that because Lord knows that I have had my fair share of one-on-one, as well as couples therapy. Even so, it never occurred to me that I would have had any issue dealing with all of the "stuff" that came along with being dealt a "terminal" diagnosis - treatments, mood changes, infertility, menopause, hot flashes, bowel issues, mood swings, etc. You see, if you don't know me personally, you may not know that I am a proud woman. I pride myself on working hard and making my own way. But cancer? Fuckin' game changer! I became vulnerable and, to me, that was a sign of WEAKNESS.
I had yet to go out with my tissue expanders (the spacers that were placed inside of my chest/muscle cavity, post mastectomy, to essentially hold and stretch the space that would house my new silicone implants). That, in itself, was a mind fuck. I had looked at the same body in the mirror for 37 years, and the same boobs for 10 (they were augmented on January 3, 2007). I had also lost a good bit of weight due to a lack of appetite. The tissue expanders felt like cement bags on my chest; they were hard and misshapen, so I was so insecure about it. I went from having these amazing fake cans for 10 years to no areolas, no nipples, and scars across my entire breast, both sides. I know that having boobs or not having boobs does not make me (or anyone, for that matter) any more or less of a woman, but I both physically and mentally needed my boobs to be similar to what they were before to make me feel more "normal". And guess what - there is nothing wrong with me saying that, just like there is nothing wrong with a woman deciding that she does not wish to have the reconstruction. It is all about personal preference and NO ONE can knock you for that.
So, back to the game - I took some anxiety meds and just dove in heads first by starting at McFadden's Ballpark (RIP). I worked there for years so I knew that my McFamily would be just as happy to see me as I would be to see them. I remember seeing my boss and whispering to him "I'm freaking out!" I no longer knew where I fit in the world because:
The main thing that I was worried about was hearing the phrase "I'm sorry". I did not know how to explain what I meant without hurting anyone's feelings or offending. Although I do completely understand that saying "I'm sorry" is a typical response, I have to say that it does not work for me.
Let me switch this up and make it more positive. Let me tell you why I am so fortunate:
I know that not having children or a significant other does not make me "less than" anyone else. However, I always wanted the option to have all of that. In hindsight, I am grateful that I don't have any of that because I cannot imagine having to explain all of this nonsense to them. I like to believe that God knew that I would not be able to handle all that came along with having children so he gave me this diagnosis to challenge me in another way. I ache just thinking about the people around me having to deal with my diagnosis. I never want to cause anyone pain, ya know?
So that ended up being a great day at the ballpark. One thing about me - I always make an effort to pull a positive from a negative. Wanna know something that I learned from accepting that invitatiion to the ballpark that day? As crazy as it sounds, I believe that was the day that I began to adjust to my "new normal". I was so grateful to be a part of a conversation that, for the most part, WAS NOT about being terminal, having cancer, or my boobs. Just hearing different groups of people around me talking about their own, garden variety "shit", made feel even more normal, as crazy as that may sound.
All love - KEEP LIVING YOUR DASH!
Andy xoxo
PS - My 3 year cancer anniversary is on January 24, 2020 AND my 40th birthday is February 4th...lots to celebrate!
The median life span for someone with Stage 4 Metastatic Breast Cancer is 3 years.
While sitting in the house recuperating and processing all of this, a couple of friends asked if I wanted to venture out and go to a Phillies game. They even said I could bring along a few friends. This was going to be my first time out, so I was secretly panicking inside. The fear I was feeling was consuming
This may seem silly, but I must explain. I had a fear of leaving my house for a few reasons:
- Going out would open me to outside criticism, leaving me virtually naked in public.
- I did not want my diagnosis to define me. I was fearful that people would only see me now as the girl that has Stage IV Metastatic Breast Cancer, not as the person I still was inside.
- While socializing, I did not want anyone else's time to be monopolized by my "shit". Obviously it is always easy to say that I am MORE than my diagnosis but, the truth of it was, I just wanted to forget my troubles, if only for a little while.
What's the saying - "We plan, God laughs"?
I am a social person, so I did not recall ever having felt that way before. I never realized the mind shift that had happened after learning that my life was no longer going according to MY plan. I didn't think for one second that I would need any of the resources that I was given (support groups, hotlines, Facebook groups, additional medications, therapy, etc.). It's not that I thought I was better than that because Lord knows that I have had my fair share of one-on-one, as well as couples therapy. Even so, it never occurred to me that I would have had any issue dealing with all of the "stuff" that came along with being dealt a "terminal" diagnosis - treatments, mood changes, infertility, menopause, hot flashes, bowel issues, mood swings, etc. You see, if you don't know me personally, you may not know that I am a proud woman. I pride myself on working hard and making my own way. But cancer? Fuckin' game changer! I became vulnerable and, to me, that was a sign of WEAKNESS.
I had yet to go out with my tissue expanders (the spacers that were placed inside of my chest/muscle cavity, post mastectomy, to essentially hold and stretch the space that would house my new silicone implants). That, in itself, was a mind fuck. I had looked at the same body in the mirror for 37 years, and the same boobs for 10 (they were augmented on January 3, 2007). I had also lost a good bit of weight due to a lack of appetite. The tissue expanders felt like cement bags on my chest; they were hard and misshapen, so I was so insecure about it. I went from having these amazing fake cans for 10 years to no areolas, no nipples, and scars across my entire breast, both sides. I know that having boobs or not having boobs does not make me (or anyone, for that matter) any more or less of a woman, but I both physically and mentally needed my boobs to be similar to what they were before to make me feel more "normal". And guess what - there is nothing wrong with me saying that, just like there is nothing wrong with a woman deciding that she does not wish to have the reconstruction. It is all about personal preference and NO ONE can knock you for that.
So, back to the game - I took some anxiety meds and just dove in heads first by starting at McFadden's Ballpark (RIP). I worked there for years so I knew that my McFamily would be just as happy to see me as I would be to see them. I remember seeing my boss and whispering to him "I'm freaking out!" I no longer knew where I fit in the world because:
- I was no longer working when I had always worked 2 jobs.
- I was at home all the time so my mind would just wander.
- Coming out of my bubble opened me up for criticism and judgment. I was never one to care about that stuff but all of these thoughts consumed me.
The main thing that I was worried about was hearing the phrase "I'm sorry". I did not know how to explain what I meant without hurting anyone's feelings or offending. Although I do completely understand that saying "I'm sorry" is a typical response, I have to say that it does not work for me.
Let me switch this up and make it more positive. Let me tell you why I am so fortunate:
- I am 39 years old and I have lived a full life.
- I have so many people around me that love and care for me.
- Recently I was out and someone was drunk and said to me -
"I'm glad it's you and not me!"
Yes, go back and look again...you read that correctly. Even though everyone around me was appalled, I did not see it that way. For me, I am grateful that I have Stage 4 Metastatic Breast Cancer. I am grateful it is ME and not one of my friends that is married and/or has children. Do you want to know something - I pray to God to lengthen the lives of those battling a terminal illness, particularly if they are married and/or have children. I tell him that it is ok to take away from my time. I am not telling you this to make you feel bad. It's my truth! Yes, I know life doesn't work that way, but it is how I see it. I get such PTSD when I find out that people pass away that were in remission last year and shit just magically went haywire. I just want to know why am I still here and thriving? Trust me, I have asked myself that so many times.
I know that not having children or a significant other does not make me "less than" anyone else. However, I always wanted the option to have all of that. In hindsight, I am grateful that I don't have any of that because I cannot imagine having to explain all of this nonsense to them. I like to believe that God knew that I would not be able to handle all that came along with having children so he gave me this diagnosis to challenge me in another way. I ache just thinking about the people around me having to deal with my diagnosis. I never want to cause anyone pain, ya know?So that ended up being a great day at the ballpark. One thing about me - I always make an effort to pull a positive from a negative. Wanna know something that I learned from accepting that invitatiion to the ballpark that day? As crazy as it sounds, I believe that was the day that I began to adjust to my "new normal". I was so grateful to be a part of a conversation that, for the most part, WAS NOT about being terminal, having cancer, or my boobs. Just hearing different groups of people around me talking about their own, garden variety "shit", made feel even more normal, as crazy as that may sound.
All love - KEEP LIVING YOUR DASH!
Andy xoxo
PS - My 3 year cancer anniversary is on January 24, 2020 AND my 40th birthday is February 4th...lots to celebrate!
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