The Broken Vase

I feel like a broken vase. They have glued me back together admirably. I retain my basic original shape with only a chip missing here or there. But, I'm not sure if I could actually hold water or flowers anymore. I miss holding the flowers. A big chip could pop out at anytime, and we would have to start the gluing process all over again. Why did I think I could simply get treated and get back to "normal"? There is no normal - I need to find a new normal.

Right now, I feel like I have no control in my life. It is dictated by appointments for treatment and all of the after effects from those treatments. The physical side effects are obvious and right out there. I can handle those, as annoying as they are, they are manageable. It's the emotional scars that are just beginning to surface, that, I'm not sure what to do with. You have to identify them before you can even deal with them. I don't have them all identified yet. And the emotional scars are not just mine. They spread out in ripples to those closest to me. As difficult as it is to identify my own issues, it's even harder to grasp what I've caused in those around me.

I'm not "cancer girl". I'm not the "cancer car". I'm not a "broken vase". I'm just a woman, with a life threatening illness, trying to find her way back.

Second Base Fine Tuning

So this week I get nipples. Yeah! The doctor made it sound like an easy, no-brainer operation. One hour - outpatient - a little skin origami and wham-bam-thank-you-mam out the door kind of procedure. It probably is for him. Me? I don't do this kind of thing every day, so I had to ask the nurse, exactly how do they create nipples? She literally described it as being like origami. My brain immediately pictured little flying cranes on my chest. Off the test pattern look in my eyes, she reassured me that they look really good. I have found that "really good" is subjective terminology in the oncology world. My idea of "really good" could be quite different from their idea of "really good". Like when the plastic surgeon proudly displayed to me some pictures of his work and assured me that he could get those kinds of results for me too! I then spiraled into a three-day depression with the knowledge that my lovely, soft breasts were about to become Frankenboobs. I had to keep reminding myself that the alternative was not cool - and to keep my eye on the end goal. I choose life over bodacious ta ta's.

Having said all that, the nipple surgery is not so slam dunk as it originally sounded - but, I do not have Frankenboobs either. They turned out pretty darn good - and I can't resist playing show-and-tell with some of my girlfriends. (whether they like it or not!)

So - nipples, here I come! One more piece of the puzzle in putting me back together again. Unlike Humpty Dumpty, all the Kings horses and all the Kings men have been doing a fine job on me. Maybe Humpty was just an ass and they simply didn't want to put him back together again. I suppose it could be that horses don't have opposable thumbs, but then what excuse do all the Kings men have. Nope - Humpty Dumpty was an ass. That's my theory and I'm sticking to it.

Top 10 Things I Never Thought I'd Say

10. I was raising funds for cancer research by doing a marathon - who knew those funds might go directly to me.

9. I don't mind donating, but I didn't want to be the poster child.

8. I think the 26.2 mile marathon I trained for would have been easier than the marathon I got.

7. Bald isn't so bad.

6. Other than no energy, numb feet and a runny nose, I feel pretty good!

5. A cancer shower party? How fun!

4. Who would have thought that having your breasts amputated would make it hard to grate cheese?

3. I'm getting nipples this week!

2. Can they be perky? I don't want to look like Yoko Ono.

1. I have cancer.