The F-Word C-Word

                                        
           "I'm so sorry. You have Cancer."

Just take a moment and think about that. I don't think any other sentence in the English language has the same impact on the human soul. (Unless, of course, Maury tells you, "You ARE the FATHER..." ?) The wild range of emotions that follows someone telling you that you have cancer, can only be equated to having your life flash before your eyes. Having to feel so many things that you never knew you could... or would. You have to simultaneously face your life as you know it... and how it will be from here on out. Nothing will ever be the same. The fear, the confusion, and the sadness are palpable. The facing of your own possible mortality is devastating. It sends chills up my spine just thinking about it. This horrible, insidious disease has a way of creeping into your life out of nowhere... and just... owning you. If you let it.

Cancer has always had a 'face' in my mind. When I was young and invincible, someone would say, "Cancer" and I would immediately think of an old, sickly person. Someone who was in the last stage of their life, surrounded by those they love, reminiscing and saying their tear-filled good-byes. My Grandfather had cancer when I was a teenager. He became my 'face'. We were in no way ready for him to leave us, but the blow was softened by everyone around us. "He had an amazing life" they would say. "He is heading up to that big party in the sky!" Like it was a good thing. Coming from a very non-religious family... I just ran with that. I didn't really get it, but it helped some. I had accepted it. Who wouldn't want to live a fabulous life, and then go off to party for... ever? What the hell is going on, here!? What they didn't tell us, was how horrible it was leading up to the 'party'. How the treatments almost killed him. How it spreads so rapidly. How he was in so much pain. How he was unconscious and mumbling half the time. We were young, and they just didn't tell us that part. I guess I get it in hindsight, as it's actually scary and awful, and it's their job to shield us from that. Nothing has been the same without my Bampa. I miss sitting on his lap, and having him tell me I'm his favorite. We ALL miss his silly self, cracking jokes, and being the best Grandpa ever. But, he's where he wanted to be now. He's at a party with his buddies... and he's just fine. Cancer got him in the end... but it's ok. Right? Cancer helps old people get to the party.

Then shit got real...

In my early twenties, a dear friend of mine lost her daughter to an awful, albeit short, battle with cancer. It rocked me to my core. Suddenly, cancer's face was a sweet, charming, funny, beautiful, perfect, nine-year-old girl! Hold the fucking phone. What?! There is no party anywhere that needs her! I don't understand. The thought of watching her mom go through that still makes me cry to this day. This isn't supposed to happen!! That's the wrong face!! I had an infant daughter of my own, and it was the biggest reality check of my life. Of course I had heard of children having cancer, but they are young and resilient. They are just supposed to kick it in its ever-changing face! It was one of those things in my life that changed me. I don't deal well with death, and have had way too much of it thrown my way, but this was different. I started giving money to any (and all) organizations that even mentioned that they help with children's cancer research. I donated things to hospitals. I wanted to grab a guitar, round up all the kids fighting for their lives everywhere, and cheerfully sing shit in rounds. But, I don't play the guitar, and that isn't gonna solve the problem. I felt helpless, and confused... but mostly angry. My GOD I hate cancer. Nobody actually 'wants' to go to the party. Fuck the 'party'. Fuck cancer.

I'm older and wiser than I was then. I have watched countless people close to me lose loved ones, young and old, from this awful... thing. The face of cancer is now more like the 'face-morphing phenomenon' in Michael Jackson's "Black Or White" video. It's almost too much to handle. We are all surrounded by cancer. Breast Cancer being the one that has flooded my personal space most aggressively. Personally, this one scares me the most. It used to be less scary. I almost felt exempt. You worried about Breast Cancer with a list of 'Ifs'. IF it is in your family. IF you didn't breast feed your children. IF you didn't have children. IF you used birth control. IF you were overweight, and a hormonal mess. Nowadays... it's more like... IF you have breasts. And that's it. It is no longer a matter of 'if'... it's a matter of 'when'. It terrifies me completely.

In my adult life, I have pretty much always known someone battling Breast Cancer. I have shaved many heads, cried both tears of sorrow and dread, and then relief when it's over. And then more dread tears when it came back. One of my best friends lost her mom to Breast cancer. It was a long, torturous, brutal, painful, emotional roller coaster. Another friend lost her young, vibrant, otherwise healthy sister. Children I know have lost their mothers. Husbands have lost their wives. Sisters have lost their other halves. The women battling this shit have lost their hair, eyelashes, breasts, anything that represents femininity and strength. It robs you. Not only physically, but also mentally. It robs you of being able to be the woman you once were. Nobody feels like a fierce woman... while bald, breastless, bawling and puking their guts out from chemo. It just isn't possible. And I know this first hand, from some very reliable sources. Both of my mothers.

A little over 2 years ago, my Mother In Law was diagnosed with Breast Cancer. It was devastating. I always knew in the back of my mind that she would be ok. I don't know what it was that assured me of that... but she just had to be. And during her battle, I just had to go into 'Mom mode' and be as strong as I could be for my husband and my kids. She has been through so much... this is just going to be a little bump in her road. It's one thing to think those thoughts... but another thing entirely to follow through. The day I shaved her head was when I lost it. How can this be happening to her? To us? She doesn't deserve this, and neither do we! Who fucking decides this!? Who picked her name out of the cancer hat!? I'm gonna thunder-punch them in the throat.. whoever they are. It isn't fair. We love and need her too much. She is just gonna have to cancel plans to go to the party. And she did. Like I knew she would be... she is one of the lucky ones who can call herself a survivor. It wasn't easy. It wasn't pretty. It tore us to pieces watching her go through this. In the end, she has kicked cancer's ass, and even jokes about the fact that after reconstruction of both of her natural breasts that are now gone... she finally has boobs!! :) Breast Cancer's one silver lining. If you can call it that. She's alive, she made it through, she has a story... and a c-cup. Life is good.

Then it was my own mom's turn. About a year ago, we found out my mom had a very aggressive form of Breast Cancer. You would think that JUST going through this with my Mother in Law, I would be a little more prepared for this news. It was the complete opposite. I kid you not when I say that was the hardest thing I have ever had to hear. I completely fell apart. I still remember her voice on the phone when she told me. She was trying so hard to be calm, and make it as easy as she could on me. I could tell she was in shock, and needed me to remain calm for a minute. But, here's the thing... You don't get a minute. It's real, and it's happening. Holy shit. It was like someone hit me with a brick... wall. Not my mom. No. Please, no! I can't do this. She is my person! She is my kids' person! She HATES parties! I'm bawling while I'm typing this. Even a year later, it's so fresh in my head, it's like it was yesterday. I was in no way prepared to do this with her. All of it. Any of it! I wanted to go crawl in a hole until it was over. My mom is the strongest, most opinionated, positive, Pollyanna-pants person I know. But none of that matters at that moment. I, like everyone else who has had this convo with their mom, wanted to just drive to her house and rock her in my arms. Or have her rock me? I don't even know. All I know is this is about to be the longest year of my life... Fucking cancer. Now... How am I gonna tell my kids?

Obviously, I could write a book about how painful and terrifying this last year has been. About how my sister and I held hands at the Pink concert, and ugly cried during "Just Give Me a Reason" About how I tried to picture my life without my mom. About how we tried to laugh our way through wig fittings and doctor appointments. About how chemo is the devil. About how I watched the strongest woman I know, turn into this fragile, tiny woman, who could barely get up the stairs... or breathe. About how none of us will ever be the same. About how much I hate the f-word c-word. But... I won't. She isn't going to change the face of cancer for me. It isn't gonna be her face. She recently had her last treatment, and is finally getting her life back. I don't know how to explain how this makes me feel. To see her now, is like having my old mom back. (Just with much shorter hair) :) She did it. She told cancer to take a hike, and it worked! Her strength and positive attitude through it all astounded me, and, I'm sure, helped her win the fight. She was fortunate that her husband is a doctor, she has health insurance, and she received phenomenal care. I know not everyone is that fortunate. They didn't lose their house from medical debt, and she didn't lose her life. Maybe there is a God!? (Yeah.... this shit does weird things to people. I did just say that.) :) All I know is that this year is going to be better. We are slowly, but surely, getting our mom back, and nothing else really matters to me. The people at the party can just wait. We are busy having our own parties down here... where we belong. :)

I wish I (Or someone doctor-like, maybe) had the cancer answer. I wish I knew why we are all just ticking, cancer time bombs. I wish there was no such thing as cancer. I wish I didn't worry so much about my daughter ending up with Breast Cancer... because, I think that is the hardest part. Watching the people you love the most battle it. It's the people left behind... the people that feel helpless, and can't do anything to fix you, when you have been temporarily broken by cancer. It is hard to accept that cancer is so commonplace in our society. It's just... everywhere. As much as it's easy to just feel like a sitting duck... waiting to have your name pulled from the cancer hat... it's at least comforting to know that it isn't always the end. I guess it's true.. what doesn't kill you makes you stronger... or, whatever else Kanye would say. (WWKWD?!!?) But it doesn't make it any easier. I'm about as strong as I can be right now. I would like the c-word to just leave me alone for a while now. I've had my fill... bug off... beat it... No room at the inn... whatever. :)

This time of year, I love reading everyone's 'I'm thankful for.." posts on facebook. Some annoy me, but most of them are good reminders of what's important. 'Tis the season to be thankful, after all :) So, in the spirit of giving thanks, I just want to reiterate how thankful I am that this year is over, and we can now move on with our lives. I'm thankful for modern medicine, and having a wonderful, supportive Step-Dad. I'm thankful that I get to have BOTH of my moms here on Thursday, and neither of them have a drain, a stitch or a current treatment plan. Neither one let cancer own them. Mostly, I'm thankful that we are getting a reprieve from the f-word c-word right now. In years past, I have dreaded the holidays. The pain in the ass that they have become. This year... I'm looking forward to it all! Hell, I may even embrace the snow! In the scheme of things, and after everything we have been through... maybe it's not so bad :)

Happy Thanksgiving, and make sure you hug your loved ones a bunch. I'm looking forward to doing just that, and will never take it for granted again. The f-word c-word ain't gonna ruin the holidays for this girl! I will not be Black Friday shopping. I will be here, with my family, cherishing every c-word free moment! :) Gobble gobble!

Call Me Crazy... But, Marriage IS For You. Both.

In the past couple of weeks, I've been seeing this same blog post appear and reappear, with all sorts of unexpected reactions attached to it. "It made me cry.", "This gave me chills.", "This is so right on!", etc. Call me crazy... or cynical... or selfish... (Just don't call me fat. That one hits below the belt.)  but I'm just not that into it. Kind of reminds me of the "Twilight" series. (Boy meets girl, both parties give up everything that makes them happy, and it's really dramatic and desperate? Or, maybe it's not like that at all?) I can't figure out what exactly bugs me about it, as much of what he said rang very true. Is it because I'm a woman reading a once selfish man's P.O.V? Is it because I'm selfish and don't realize it? Am I just too much my...self, that I can't dig it? I can't decide. I have decided that there's just one big thing that I can't wrap my head around. And that is... the whole premise of it.

Don't get me wrong, I love the idea of what he wrote. A year and a half into marriage, we all go through those same emotions. You are still figuring it out. You have all sorts of dreams and expectations when you say, "I do", and when those expectations don't come to fruition, and the honeymoon is over,  it's frustrating. I totally get that. I'm happy he has had an epiphany, and found his voice in his marriage. It's great that he is able to use that to fix what isn't working for him. Because, in using that voice, it is about him. And, in my opinion, there is nothing wrong with that.

I have been in a pretty successful marriage for almost 12 years now. I, like him, married my best friend. The person that completed me. The person I wanted to have babies with. The person who makes my life better... every single day. We do that for each other, but don't think for one minute, I didn't marry him for what he does for me. How he makes me feel. I didn't need him. I wanted him. There is a difference. I wanted him in my life, because he made it better... for me. :)

I was young-ish for today's standards when I got married. I was only a mere 25. We were  already  parents to a beautiful, healthy babygirl, we already owned our first home, we both had great careers, and a very supportive support system. Fully self-sufficient, and ready to start our next journey. Things were good! I had life by the balls, and was excited to wear my pretty dress, stand up with all my favorite girls by my side, and say, "I do" to my favorite guy! What could be more wonderful!?! My very wise Grandmother had given me some sage advice a few years prior to my big day. I was at the tail end of a very long, tumultuous relationship with my high school boyfriend. She, like the Father of the guy who write that blog, said to me, "If you can wake up every morning with that person, and think 'What can I do to make his life better today?', then you know you are with the right person." I was 100 percent sure I felt that way about my husband, and never had a moment of second guessing if he felt the same way about me. I had learned my lesson about being with a selfish partner. It needs to be about me, as much as/if not more than, it is about you. And I'm not sorry for that. Nope. Not even a little bit. :) It just goes to show, you hear what you are looking to hear. No matter who said it, or what it was. And we all are different people. In the end... we take what we want to get out of something, and run with it. And that's what is awesome. YOLO. :)

The first few years of our marriage were rocky, at best, many times. We had 'life' handed to us, as well as our asses, over and over. It was a time of learning, there's no doubt about that. We learned how each other deals with tragedy, stress, and loss. We learned when the other one's needs needed to be put ahead of our own. We learned that even though we were now 'married', we were still the same people we always had been, and we need to accept and appreciate that. We learned PMS should stand for "Putting up with My Shit". We learned to put each others' idiosyncrasies aside, and pick our battles. His nude feet, incessantly making figure-eights on the brand new rug, isn't cause for a war. Just pick up your socks. NEVER say the 'D' word. Ever. For any reason. We learned that in most cases, (Appropriate or not) laughter IS the best medicine. We learned that I don't clean the litter box, and he doesn't dust. We learned how the other one parents. We learned to compromise. We learned to be partners. Sometimes this marriage is all about you, sometimes it is about me. Saying "Marriage isn't for you" as a general statement, is the equivalent of saying, "Even though I despise meatloaf, we will eat it every night, because, my love, it is your favorite." Or... something like that. It just doesn't seem to be 'right' to me. I happen to like chicken. So... we will get used to chicken loaf. (Or, not get used to chicken loaf? As even the word 'loaf' makes me throw up a little bit in my own mouth.) :)

I am now 37, and have gotten to 'that' age. So many of marriages that we have known and loved over the years, have taken a turn for the worse. I have watched countless friends and fellow married people, focus too much on what to do for the other person, and change themselves completely to conform to the other one's expectations. I have seen that fail, and watched the people I love turn into these distraught souls, that can't figure out how to be a little selfish, or put themselves first. You only get one life. To spend it mainly trying to better someone else's... it just is a recipe for disaster. And counseling. I know women by nature are care-takers, most of us wanting nothing more than to be a good wife, friend, mom and person in general. I think we need to be careful when talking to our daughters about marriage. I know I, for one, will tell my daughter to never lose her self. The part of her that makes her... her. That is important to me, and I feel like I have set a good example for her in that way. Most of her Dad's and my first 'fights' were about me... trying to stay... me. (With a splash of the grown-up version of me. It had to happen eventually...) It wasn't easy, and is still a struggle. Like I said earlier, everyone is an individual, and requires something different from a marriage. (Can I use YOLO again here?!) Let's be honest... picking the most suitable partner for yourself is more than half the battle. It doesn't always happen. Not every marriage is built to last, and staying true to yourself can save you a lot of heart and headache when it's time to move on. As a child of divorced parents, and someone who has watched this happen to those I love... I take it even more seriously than most. If I make my whole existence about you... where does that leave me? (And this is where I lose all selflessness. #sorry/notsorry.) You can't protect yourself from life, or the shit-storms it throws your way, but you can be more prepared to deal with said shit-storms, if you have remained your true self. Sometimes it's all about me. And that has to be ok with you. :)

Obvi, no marriage is perfect. Every marriage has ups and downs. It's the name of the game. You are constantly growing and changing... and learning. It's more about figuring out what works for both of you. I have learned so much not only watching the demise of marriages I loved and respected, but from those that have remained strong through all the bullshit. There seems to be a common theme among those that withstand the storms. Mutual respect for the other person, unconditional love, and acceptance that every individual needs to grow and learn at their own pace. At the end of the day, marriage is about two people, and you need to be careful when saying "Marriage isn't for you". Because, without 'u'... there can be no 'us'. :) I, for one, may start a petition to change the word 'marriage'... to 'ME-arraige.' :) (I kid... sort of)

My husband and I renewed our vows on our 10 year anniversary. We wrote our own, sappy vows, and it was a wonderful way to reaffirm the fact that we are totally, 100 percent here for each other. I overheard him saying to a few of his buddies that night, (Who were giving him shit for letting me throw a 'second wedding') "Happy wife, happy life!" And that, my friends, is what got him laid that night. (And 3 weeks of free figure-eighting with his nude feet... on my rug. I DO love him and stuff) He definitely has learned how to put the 'u' in us... and the other stuff where it belongs. :) And I have learned when he has earned a little something for himself. :) For that, I'm forever grateful and lucky. Marriage is totally for me... and him. It's a win-win.

I guess I will file that blog I read into the same category as the "Twilight" series. I will never totally agree with the premise of either of them. Not to say it doesn't work to take some of what was said, and fully accept that it's not, nor will it ever be, all about me. I have been humbled and put in my place on many occasions. It's all part of the process :) As I mentioned, I'm very happy that guy has figured out to put his wife and her feelings first sometimes. Hopefully that was what needed to happen for them, and she does the same for him... and they live a long, happy life together! But, for now, I'm completely content in knowing that my marriage is for me, and at no time in my life, will I ever let my husband turn me into a Vampire :) (Although, the nakie-foot, figure-eights would be amazing at Vamp speed... hmm...) :)

P.s... I am now accepting recipes for a chicken loaf? I guess it has been a long time coming, and now I'm feeling guilty. Loaf is definitely NOT for me. :)