Not wallowing in suckery

I've really been trying to stop with the pity parties. It's just crazy that I'm emotional now and wasn't when I was diagnosed. It's been almost 4 years. I am lucky. I realize people get tired of my medical drama & they go away. The thing is I need to talk about it. Or I guess I can just write here. I want people to be educated about breast cancer & lymphedema.

Wallowery! ;-)

Guys, I know sometimes it's hard AF. You wake up & you're like "today's the day I'm giving up coffee then you have 3 coffees & it's 10 am & you're still laying in bed scrolling on Instagram & watching cat videos & you tell yourself you're going to write or create something but all you do is make 3 eggs & the shells fall in you think: fuck it: texture. And the baby's crying or you don't have a baby but the husband is being an asshole or you wish you had a husband or a girlfriend or whatever but it's a beautiful day so you think you'll ride your bike but then your bike tires are flat because you haven't ridden in 3 years & do you even own a bike anyway? So you lay in bed sticky from breast milk leaking from your boobs or coffee you said you wouldn't drink that spilled on you & you scroll & look at everyone's perfect happy lives & you start pulling your eyebrow hairs out (nervous habit) because you wonder how you'll catch up? You wonder what you've done that's so remarkable? You wonder why you suck the most & literally no one else does.

Well, I feel you. I call this wallowing in your own suckery! Don't wallow under any circumstances. Don't be an asshole & wallow. Or wallow for like 5 minutes but then snap the f out of said wallowery of said suckery & fuckery. You don't suck. You are remarkable. Yes, you, you sticky, bikeless, coffee breathed human. You! Remember- social media is 99% bullshit. Remember- this is not a race. Remember- we all think we suck sometimes. Remember- we do suck sometimes but that's called being a damn human being. So don't wallow in it. Just get up and put your non-asshole pants on & do something to get out of your head. Or don't put pants on. 

Tag someone who doesn't suck. I love you!!

#dontbeanasshole #dontwallowinyourownsuckery

Effects of radiation

Weeellll, yes! No hair in right armpit; healing rib; marking (AKA tattooing).

http://www.healthline.com/health/breast-cancer/radiation-effects-on-body?utm_expid=.bq4wAkkBSjeddGcB8ufP1w.0&utm_referrer=http%3A%2F%2Fm.facebook.com%2F

Pretty urns

I saw some gorgeous urns at the funeral home. It's funny that my first thought was about smashing them. Take me to a mountain and smash the thing!😄

On a positive note...

Over the past couple of days I have spent lots of time with my 9 yr old nephew. I hadn't seen him much this summer so he had a lot to tell me! He was asking questions about my arms so I let him try in my night sleeves and showed how I wrap. He showed me how to get poke balls for the Pokemon Go game. We made a date to go see the Secret Life of pets since we've been waiting for it to come out but then we both got busy. :-)

Rough day

Today (well, yesterday now) was a long, emotional day. Viewing at funeral home Wed. night, funeral today. My cousin, Mandy, jokingly asked if I was "forced" to go up to the casket (that's what some relatives used to make us do) & I said I went willingly this time. :)

I touched his hand. Never done that before. Skin so cold. Not there.

I heard he had been floating in the lazy river, splashing the grandson when it happened. He was having fun. There is comfort in that.

I'm a ball of emotion: sadness, anger, frustration, anxiety. Poor cuticles.

I'm sad that I only see my cousins during these sad events. That's not right.

You want a physicist to speak at your funeral. You want the physicist to talk to your grieving family about the conservation of energy, so they will understand that your energy has not died. You want the physicist to remind your sobbing mother about the first law of thermodynamics; that no energy gets created in the universe, and none is destroyed. You want your mother to know that all your energy, every vibration, every Btu of heat, every wave of every particle that was her beloved child remains with her in this world. You want the physicist to tell your weeping father that amid energies of the cosmos, you gave as good as you got.

And at one point you'd hope that the physicist would step down from the pulpit and walk to your brokenhearted spouse there in the pew and tell him that all the photons that ever bounced off your face, all the particles whose paths were interrupted by your smile, by the touch of your hair, hundreds of trillions of particles, have raced off like children, their ways forever changed by you. And as your widow rocks in the arms of a loving family, may the physicist let her know that all the photons that bounced from you were gathered in the particle detectors that are her eyes, that those photons created within her constellations of electromagnetically charged neurons whose energy will go on forever.

And the physicist will remind the congregation of how much of all our energy is given off as heat. There may be a few fanning themselves with their programs as he says it. And he will tell them that the warmth that flowed through you in life is still here, still part of all that we are, even as we who mourn continue the heat of our own lives.

And you'll want the physicist to explain to those who loved you that they need not have faith; indeed, they should not have faith. Let them know that they can measure, that scientists have measured precisely the conservation of energy and found it accurate, verifiable and consistent across space and time. You can hope your family will examine the evidence and satisfy themselves that the science is sound and that they'll be comforted to know your energy's still around. According to the law of the conservation of energy, not a bit of you is gone; you're just less orderly. Amen.

-Aaron Freeman.

Sad couple of days

There was a  memorial service for my mom's friend on Sat. My uncle's viewing will be Wed with funeral on Thurs. Still stunned by his death.

I've used my coping methods today: loud music, picking cuticles, and revisiting my favorite plane crashes. Not being as morbid as some may think. I love learning what went wrong and how it was fixed.
Also got a good workout paddling on the river Fri night.

I'll be heading to Indiana in a few days.