Cancer is Inappropriate

My daughter has breast cancer.

She's 35 years old.

I know what to do and I don't know what to do. It's awful, terrible, fucked up. I have so many thoughts around all of it, yet I'm frozen. Frozen because this belongs to her. The feelings belong to her and yet I have them. I don't know what to do. I frantically try to not hijack her grief. What do I do with my grief? It seems selfish to have this grief. But I'm her momma. It never stops; the needing to make the hurts go away.

I try to cry when no one knows. I've watched people back away from my neediness. People just don't know what to say. I say that's okay. It's not okay. Word of advice to anyone reaching out to someone in their lives that needs solace - please do not say the fucking words that god never gives you more than you can handle. This is pure bullshit. Tell yourself this when it's your child having both of her breasts removed. Tell me how you feel then. I'll understand and never say that to you.

So I'm wallowing in my horrible grief. Not talking about it, yet lashing out in unexpected places. Isolating in my grief. Eating inappropriately. Acting inappropriately. All out inappropriate.

I have people I could talk to. I don't want to talk to them. I'm so angry. This surprises me. I'm even mad at my daughter a bit. Fucked up momma!

There are things I know about being a woman. Things that aren't being talked about. Breasts are part of being a woman. I don't mean in that fucked up way that has made breasts a marketing thing, but they are part of us in all the things that are important and not important compared to cancer.

Breasts are the first thing a boy will tentatively touch when you're kissing and kissing and tumbling around before you ever have sex. Then, when you have sex finally, they are a huge part of feeling sexy. Being sexy. Feeling desire. Feeling desired. Reaching orgasm. All of that. They feel heavy and they feel light as feathers. We lead with them and we distract with them and we hide them. All of that.

They change when we have babies. We feed our babies. They ache when our baby cries. They might be the first clue we're pregnant. We love them through our babies.

I grieve for that part for my daughter. Not that it's that fucking important, but yes, it is important. I don't have the right words for this. I don't have my thoughts in order. They may never be in order again.

My daughter is in the middle of all this shit. The ride for her is just beginning. I have more than hope that the outcome is going to be good. She's strong as shit. She doesn't know how strong she is. If you only knew how strong she is. Beyond this fucking cancer I'll tell you that.

Lake Life

I'm at the lake.

We bought a lake house a couple of years ago and for the second year had the girls and some of their friends here for my birthday and anniversary event. Last year we attempted to have a big shindig that I dubbed The Shindig, but mostly only the young uns came to celebrate with us. The older crowd either doesn't have good feelings around sharing a bed in a dorm-like space, day-drinking like we're 35, or other reasons I'd rather not explore.

😁  -    that is the creepiest emoji I've seen!

So . . . since it's my birthday month and since I actually say childlike things like "birthday month" I am here until the middle of July more or less.

My sweet Pup left last night and won't be back for four days.

I like being here on my own.

So today all I did was laundry (Lots of guest laundry! The only downside to having company), dishes, cleaned out the fridge (oy to the things people leave!), floor mopping, and I took a long needed shower.

And since it rained most of the day I hung out on YouTube, watched movies, watched CNN on a Fire Stick, groused about the current state of politics, and ate a few inappropriate leftovers (grrr!), and nursed my bad knee.

It's lovely here. Quiet and serene. We have a momma deer and her baby frolicking through the yard from time to time and catching a glimpse of them is the BEST. I'd love to catch a photo of them, but enjoy them in the moment even more than reaching for my phone.

A few weeks ago Pup was mowing and found the brand new fawn cuddled up against the back of our garage. He made me call the DNR to make certain the baby wasn't abandoned and sure enough the momma will leave the baby in a safe place and go out and do momma things. Then the momma will return and move the baby. We saw the baby cuddled up near a tree line on our other property the next day. And now the baby is running with her/his long legs after the momma. Glorious to see.

I guess I don't have any message here. Although messages are not necessary are they? It's a great summer as it bounds along. Always lovely.

Bisou!

Here's What I Love About Life

I recently had to switch clinics, and while dreading this, it has turned out great. Change really can be good! So I was at a yearly physical with a new doctor and she was going over my files and getting to know me and asking a great many questions.

"Do you smoke?"
"How much do you drink?"
"When was your last tetanus shot?"
"Do you have any allergies?"
"Does your husband treat you good?"

I'm answering away - answers flying out of my mouth easily.

"I quit in 1997"
"A few cocktails 2-3 times a month"
"I don't know!"
"Pain killers (weird I know)"
"He's my sweetie, he's my husband"

The last answer shot out of my mouth so fast it made both of us laugh! I loved how she slipped that in there and it worked perfectly. It was my true and real answer.

My Pup and I met in 2005 - both of us divorced from our first spouses. We married in 2009. Our 8th anniversary is coming on June 25 - which is crazy! - and when I left that doctor's office I couldn't stop smiling the rest of the day.

That answer popped out my mouth in true and real fashion.

I read an article recently that said people you love can make you yawn along with them far more often than people you don't love. I'm yawning a lot since 2005.

xxoo my people!